tation, and forces upon him the unwelcome fear, lest the artist may have trolden too boldly upou sacred ground, and drawn aside with too daring a hand the curtain, that hides the future. The mind, that is habitually impressed with religious awe, is ever filled with apprehension, lest those should go too far, who would profusely decorate with fiction, so solemn a reality.

Thus much of the difficulty, which must attend every extended representation of the final Judgment. The author of the Poem before us,whom we now introduce to our readers with particular pleasure,-was doubtless himself fully sensible of them; and we are free to say that we know of no one, whether in prose or poetry, who has struggled against them with more success, and who has kept more entirely clear of those hidden things, which all should be afraid

to touch.

The time of his Vision is the night after Christmas. The scene is a boundless plain; in the midst of it rises a beauteous mount, upon which the Saviour, with his attendant angels, descends to judge the world. At the sound of the trump, the dead are raised, and the whole human race are assembled to receive their doom. Nearly a third of the poem is taken up in the description of distinguished individuals, placed side by side without regard to age or country. A second summons issues from the trump; at the touch of a seraph's wand the vast throng array themselves on the right and left of the throne, as unerring conscience dictates. Evening arrives; the throne is concealed by clouds; and the Judge and the seven Spirits are, to appearance, sitting in

consultation. Here follow several episodical pages. Then, the sentence is pronounced; the throne rises, together with the blessed, to heaven. After a glimpse of Paradise, the condemned multitude in agonizing despair, await their doom; the fiery tempest, that is to burl the earth into chaos, commences, as the Vision is broken and the dreamer awakes.

So well sustained is the poet's bold and elevated flight, that in our wish to extract a few such passages, as furnish favourable specimens of his style and manner, we are quite at a loss, which to choose. The business of selection is never more difficult, than when all is good, and when every part, as in this instance, bespeaks the presence of a masculine genius and a refined taste.

The sublime picture he has given of the convulsion of nature at the approach of the resurrection, is richly poetical, and would not suffer by a comparison with some of the choisest passages of Milton :

"Sudden, a Seraph that before them flew, Pausing upon bis wide-unfolded plumes, Put to his mouth the likeness of a trump, And toward the four winds four times fiercely breathed.

Rattling along the arch, the mighty peal To Heaven resounded, Hell returned a groan,

And shuddering Earth a moment reeled, confounded,

From her fixed pathway as the staggering ship

Stunn'd by some mountain biow, reels. The isles,

With heaving ocean, rocked: the moun

tains shook

His locks rolled graceful, as they waved, of old,

Upon the mournful breeze of Calvary." pp. 13-14.

The portraits of Joseph, and of the twelve Apostles, are drawn with the most touching tenderness. We extract the latter :

"Beyond the Jewish Ruler, banded close, A company full glorious, I saw

The twelve Apostles stand. O, with what looks

Of ravishment and joy, what rapturous tears,

What hearts of extasy, they gazed again
On their beloved Master! what a tide
Of overwhelming thoughts pressed to their
souls

When now, as he so frequent promised, throned,

And circled by the hosts of Heaven, they traced

The well-known lineaments of him who shared.

Their wants and sufferings here! Full many a day

Of fasting spent with him, and night of prayer

Rushed on their swelling hearts. Before the rest,

Close to the Angelic spears had Peter urged,

Tears in his eye, love throbbing at his breast,

As if to touch his vesture, or to catch The murmur of his voice. On him and them

Jesus beamed down benignant looks of

love."

pp. 24-25.

The various personages introduced, are represented in the attire appropriated to them while on earthcrested helmets, glittering armour, purple robes, plumes, crowns, and diadems. This strikes the mind rather singularly at first, but upon reflection, it is clearly the most natural and forcible mode of representation. With the recollection of those we formerly knew, we involuntarily associate the dress, in which we were accustomed to see them. At all events, this mode of representation admits of greater

led

To their allotted stations on the plain. pp. 33-34.

The allusion to Eve might perhaps, as well have been omitted. The idea of the Consultation is, in our view, an unfortunate one, and out of place.The apostrophe to the Evening Star distracts the attention, and rather diminishes the impression of the deep

*In an antique picture of the General Judgment, belonging to the gallery of Cardinal Fesche, all the individuals introduced are, in like manner, in their appropriate attire. One circumstance, whose existence in a papal country strikes the mind rather singularly, is that among those

plunging down into the abyss of despair on the left hand of the Judge, are some two or three Cardinals. A visitor on seeing them, rather indiscreetly asked "where are the Popes then?" to which the guide der and a wild look of astonishment at the replied by a significant shrug of the shoulstranger's audacity.

ly solemn pages, that precede. It is not objectionable however, as marring the regular order of the poem; for the author is exempted from any censure on this account, when we recollect that his Poem is professedly a Vision. But whatever may be the effect of this passage, it breathes so much genuine poetry, is so replete with touching and delicate feeling, and so rich in terse and finished elegance, that we know not how to spare it, and should be sorry to have it obliterated. Were it not that we have already extracted so largely, we should be glad to give it entire. But our limits permit us to add only one more passage, which is from the close of the poem, and shows that the author is equally capable of pourtraying, and exciting, the deeper emotions of the heart :

"A deep-drawn agonizing groan escaped The hapless Outcasts, when upon the Lord The glowing portals closed. Undone, they

stood

We have, on the whole, been highly interested in the perusal of the poem before us. The sentiments are elevated and appropriate. The author advances with a slow and dignified and even step, which appears to be entirely natural to him. His imagery is happily chosen, and has often an air of freshness about it, which is particularly pleasing. He has some fine classical allusions, while they are not carried so far, nor are they of so frequent recurrence, as to expose him to the charge of pedantry, from which even Milton himself is not exempt. The versification is uncommonly smooth and melodious; an indifferent line rarely occurs. The language is so chaste and pure, that we doubt whether the Poem contains a single word, not sanctioned by the highest authority; there are many grateful specimens of the nicest delicacy of phrase, and the inversions, unavoidable in blank verse, are seldom so great as to injure the perspicuity of his sentences.

The principal defect lies in the feebleness of the impression left on the mind. There are certainly several passages well calculated to take a strong hold of the feelings; but from some cause or other, this is not the effect of the whole. We have been disposed to attribute it, in part at least, to the number of episodical passages in it, and in part to the diffiof which we have already spoken at culties inherent in the subject itself, large. And it may be that something must also be attributed to the restraint,

which to some extent, even blank verse imposes; hence it is perhaps, that we have no developement of strong and hurried and fervid feeling.

We have said nothing of the author's former highly respectable production, and we do not now feel disposed to draw a comparison between

that, and the one we have been considering. They are both excellent in their kind, and either of them is quite sufficient to entitle him to a conspicu

* Especially those to be found between the thirty-sixth and forty-third page.

ous place among the poets of the age. We congratulate our country on the appearance of one, who promises so well; and we are rejoiced to find in him a decided friend to the best interests of man. As his pen has already been employed in the service of truth, we feel a pleasing conviction, that it will not be prostituted to the support of vice or the inculcation of error.

Life of Wesley; and the Rise and Progress of Methodism: By Robert Southey, Esq. New-York, 1820, 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 227, 270.

Memoirs of the Life and Character of the late Rev. George Whitefield, A. M. By Rev. John Gillies, D. D. &c. &c. Fifth Edition, &c. Boston.

The rise and progress of Methodism, its present character and future prospects, cannot fail to be an interesting object of contemplation to every one, who is deeply concerned for the progress of pure and undefiled religion. We should think also that any merely philosophical mind, would feel an unusual interest, in tracing methodism back from its present vigorous and extensive operations, to its commencement in that remarkable man, whose powerful mind gave it existence, and impressed upon it the leading features of his own character. Such an investigation is the more curious, as Methodism does not owe its distinct and separate existence, to those causes which have divided and kept separate other denominations of christians. It has been said, that it is impossible to form and maintain a sect in religion, except by doctrines, or ceremonies. It must be separated from other denominations of Christians by attaching great importance, either to its peculiar doctrines or its peculiar forms. Thus Lutherans, Calvinists and Arminians, are distinguished by their respective doctrines; Presbyterians, Episcopalians and An

abaptists by their peculiar modes of worship, and of administering the ordinances. Even the Unitarians are associated in one body, and apply to themselves a common denomination, not indeed an account of a common faith, but a common denial of the faith of all other christians. Methodism, on the other hand, is not characterized principally by any peculiar doctrines or ceremonies. Wesley himself was regularly ordained,-first as Deacon, and then as Priest, in the Episcopal church; and though he held some peculiar opinions, and deviated in some respects from the practices of his own church, yet he always professed to be a good son of the church, to believe in her articles, and to approve of her liturgy. He even gloried in the singular catholicism of Methodism.

"One circumstance," says he "is quite peculiar to the Methodists: the terms upon which any person may be admitted into their society. They do not impose, in order to their admission, any opinions whatever. Let them hold particular, or general redemption, absolute or conditional decrees; let them be Churchmen, or Dissenters, Presbyterians or Independents, it is no obstacle. Let them choose one mode of worship or another, it is no bar to their admission. The Presbyterian may be a Presbyterian still: the Independent or Anabaptsit may use his own mode of worship; so may the Quaker, and none will contend about it. They think and let think. One condition and one only is required, a real desire to save their souls. Where this is, it is enough; they desire no more. They lay stress on nothing else. They ask only-is thy heart herein as my heart? If it be, give me thy band. Is there any other society in Great-Britain or Ireland, that is so remote from bigotry, that is so truly of a Catholic spirit, &c."

He considered Methodism, as really distinguished by its spirit, its principles of action, and by the peculiar methods in which these principles were exerted. To the very close of his life, he professed to deprecate a separation from the established church, and exhorted all his followers to remain in the respective churches and societies to which they belonged before their conversion,-to attend worship, and to receive the commun

ion there, while they should attend his meetings to keep alive their love and zeal. We remember to have conversed with a pious woman, formerly a member of the Presbyterian church in Ireland, who gave us an account of Methodism in that country, very much resembling this project of Wesley. She remarked that she had great enjoyment in the society of Methodists there, that they did not form a distinct sect, and made no efforts to draw others from their respective churches;-she said it was not considered any mark of defection from her own society to attend the meetings of the Methodists, who were considered simply as an association of pious people of all denominations, who assembled before and after the hours of regular service in their own churches, as well as on weekdays, to enjoy christian fellowship and to warm each others hearts, by exhortation and prayer. We are ourselves inclined to believe that the spirit of Methodism, and its operations,-the organization of the community, and the unceasing and powerful activity which it has always manifested, are reasons sufficient, without adverting to a few peculiarities of opinion, to account for its being viewed, from the beginning, as a distinct society, as well as for its eventual separation into a new sect.

Although Wesley must have apprehended the event which at length made him the founder of a new sect, yet he seems to have desired rather that "the leaven might leaven the whole lump" that the Methodists might become at least the predominant party in the several churches to which they belonged, especially in the Established Church. If this had been the result of his efforts, the society of the Methodists would have had some striking marks of resemblance, to that of the Jesuits. Ignatius Loyola, and John Wesley, resembled each other in being each the founder of a society designed to remain in the church, in which it was formed, imperium in imperio-a so

ciety, in each instance, distinguished, not by its tenets, but by its spiritual separations, and tending, as the founders believed, to the support of the mother church. The nature of that spirit however, and the character of those operations, were as diverse as the churches in which they were formed, or as the personal character of their founders. The Jesuits were undoubtedly a great support to the church of Rome, and Mr. Southey is of opinion, that if Methodism, when still further refined and mellowed by age, were to be reunited to the estab lishment, bringing its own spirit into the national church, J. Wesley "would be ranked, not only among the most remarkable and influential men of his age, but among the great benefactors of his country and his kind."

But without attempting to state exactly how far our sentiments agree with those of this author, or speculating on the probable, or possible, future consequences of Methodism, we may safely agree with Mr. S. that notwithstanding its errors and follies, its "enthusiasm,” “fanaticism" and "extravagances," the general effects; of Methodism viewed in connection with what was the previous state of society where it has chiefly spread, is good; and such as a good man must rejoice in. We might wish indeed that the stupidity and vice which it has removed, had given place to a purer faith, and a better regulated zeal, but as there is no probability that in most instances, this would have been the case, we are bound to rejoice that so much light as Methodism does carry with it, has been carried by its zealous votaries into the dark places of the earth.

The Reformation of Luther, according to Mr. S. was never completed in England. Men of intelligence indeed, had examined the errors and fooleries of Popery, and had learned to despise them. Many had em braced the doctrines of the reformation after investigation and convie