That rises here, and humbly spread the sail;
While less disturbed than in the narrow Vale
Through which with strange vicissitudes he pass'd,
The Wanderer seeks that receptacle vast
Where all his unambitious functions fail.
And may thy Poet, cloud-born Stream! befree,
The sweets of earth contentedly resigned,
And each tumultuous working left behind
At seemly distance, to advance like Thee,
Prepared, in Peace of heart, in calm of mind
And soul, to mingle with Eternity!

I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away.-Vain sympathies !
For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,
I see what was, and is, and will abide!
Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;
The Form remains, the Function never dies;
While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise,
We Men, who in our morn of youth defied
The elements, must vanish :-be it so!
Enough, if something from our hands have power
To live, and act, and serve the future hour;
And if, as tow'rd the silent tomb we go,

Thro' love, thro' hope, and faith's transcendant power,

We feel that we are greater than we know.

To this poem of strung Sonnets, is appended a few notes and a biographical memoir of a Mr. Walker, a lowly but eminently virtuous clergyman. Then follows Vaudracour and Julia, a tale of lawless and hapless love. opening is charming.

O happy time of youthful lovers, (thus
My story may begin) O balmy time,
In which a love-knot on a lady's brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven!
To such inheritance of blessed fancy
(Fancy that sports more desperately with minds
Than ever fortune had been known to do)
The high-born Vaudracour was brought by years
Whose progress had a little overstepped
His strippling prime. A town of small repute,
Among the vine-clad mountains of Auvergne,
Was the Youth's birth-place. There he woo'd a Maid
Who heard the heart-felt music of his suit
With answering vows. Plebeian was the stock,
Plebeian, though ingenuous, the stock,

From which her graces and her honours sprung:
And hence the father of the enamour'd Youth,
With haughty indignation, spurn'd the thought
Of such alliance.-From their cradles up,
With but a step between their several homes,
Twins had they been in pleasure; after strife
And petty quarrels, had grown fond again;
Each other's advocate, each other's stay;
And strangers to content if long apart,
Or more divided than a sportive pair

Of sea-fowl conscious both that they are hovering
Within the eddy of a common blast,
Or hidden only by the concave depth
Of neighbouring billows from each other's sight.
Thus, not without concurrence of an age
Unknown to memory, was an earnest given,
By ready nature, for a live of love,
For endless constancy and placid truth;

But whatsoe'er of such rare treasure lay Reserved, had fate permitted, for support Of their maturer years, his present mind Was under fascination ;-he beheld

A vision, and adored the thing he saw.
Arabian fiction never filled the world
With half the wonders that were wrought for him.
Earth breathed in one great presence of the spring =
Life turn'd the meanest of her implements,
Before his eyes, to price above all gold;
The house she dwelt in was a sainted shrine;
Her chamber window did surpass in glory
The portals of the dawn; all paradise
Could, by the simple opening of a door,
Let itself in upon him; pathways, walks,
Swarm'd with enchantment, till his spirit sank
Surcharged within him,-overblest to move
Beneath a sun that wakes a weary world
To its dull round of ordinary cares:
A man too happy for immortality!

We confess that we know no parallel to this in the whole range of English amatory poetry. The picture is full of living grace,and every heart must feel its magical power. The sequent misfortunes of the lovers gives augmented force and beauty to the delightful simile of the sea fowl sporting unconscious amid blast or billow. Julia becomes a mother ere a wife. Violence separates her from Vaudracour; and a convent encloses her griefs, while imbecile apathy deadens the fiercer sorrows of her beloved. We refrain from dwelling more at length upon the story, in order to find space for examples of the shorter productions, which we can transplant whole into our page. The "Lament of Mary Queen of Scots on the eve of a New Year;" is apt for this purpose.

"Smile of the moon !-for so I name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
From Her whom drooping Captives love;
Or art thou of still higher birth?
Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,
My torpor to reprove!

66 Bright boon of pitying Heaven-alas,
I may not trust thy placid cheer!
Pondering that Time to-night will pass
The threshold of another year;
For years to me are sad and dull;

My very moments are too full
Of hopelessness and fear.

“—And yet, the soul-awakening gleam,
That struck perchance the farthest coné
Of Scotland's rocky wilds, did seem

To visit me, and me alone;
Me, unapproach'd by any friend,
Save those who to my sorrows lend
Tears due unto their own.

"To-night, the church-tower bells shall ring,
Through these wide realins, a festive peal;
To the new year a welcoming ;
A tuneful offering for the weal,
Of happy millions lulled in sleep;
While I am forced to watch and weep,
By wounds that may not heal.

"Born all too high, by wedlock raised
Still higher-to be cast thus low!
Would that mine eyes had never gaz'd
On aught of more ambitious show
Than the sweet flow'rets of the fields !
-It is my royal state that yields
This bitterness of woe.

"Yet how?-for I, if there be truth
In the world's voice, was passing fair;
And beauty, for confiding youth,
Those shocks of passion can prepare
That kill the bloom before its time,
And blanch, without the Owner's crime,
The most resplendent hair.

"Unblest distinctions! showered on me
To bind a lingering life in chains;
All that could quit my grasp or flee,
Is gone;-but not the subtle stains
Fixed in the spirit ;--for even here
Can I be proud that jealous fear
Of what I was remains.

"A woman rules my prison's key;
A sister Queen, against the bent
Of law and holiest sympathy,
Detains me-doubtful of the event;
Great God, who feel'st for my distress,
My thoughts are all that I possess,
O keep them innocent!

"Farewell for ever human aid,
Which abject mortals vainly court!
By friends deceived, by foes betrayed,
Of fears the prey, of hopes the sport,
Nought but the world-redeeming Cross
Is able to supply my loss,
My burthen to support.

"Hark! the death-note of the year,
Sounded by the castle-clock !"--
From her sunk eyes a stagnant tear
Stole forth, unsettled by the shock;
But oft the woods renowned their green,
Ere the tir'd head of Scotland's Queen
Repos'd upon the block!

Lycoris (if such name befit
Thee, thee my life's celestial sign!)
When Nature marks the year's decline,
Be ours to welcome it;

Pleased with the soil's requited cares ;

Pleased with the blue that ether wears ;

Pleased while the sylvan world displays

Its ripeness to the feeding gaze;

Pleased when the sullen winds resound the knell
Of the resplendant miracle.

But something whispers to my heart
That, as we downward tend,
Lycoris! life requires an art
To which our souls must bend;
A skill-to balance and supply;
And, ere the flowing fount be dry,
As soon it must, a sense to sip,
Or drink, with no fastidious lip.
Frank greeting, then, to that blythe Guest
Diffusing smiles o'er land and sea,
To aid the vernal Deity
Whose home is in the breast!
May pensive autumn ne'er present
A claim to her disparagement!
While blossoms and the budding spray
Inspire us in our own decay ;

Still, as we nearer draw to life's dark goal,
Be hopeful Sring the favourite of the soul!

The model of L'Allegro is not far forgotten here; nor in the following felicitous allusions to Ambition, notwithstanding a somewhat of ruggedness in the verse, are we disposed to find a less flattering comparison for the poet.

Enough of climbing toil!-Ambition treads
Here, as in busier scenes, grounds steep and rough,
Oft perilous, always tiresome; and each step,

As we for most uncertain gain ascend

Toward the clouds, dwarfing the world below,
Induces, far its old familiar sights,
Unacceptable feelings of contempt,
With wonder mixed-that man could e'er be tied,
In anxious bondage, to such nice array
And formal fellowship of petty things!
Oh, 'tis the heart that magnifies this life,
Making a truth and beauty of her own!
And moss-grown alleys, circumscribing shades,
And gurgling rills, assist her in the work
More efficaciously than rills outspread,

As in a map, before the adventurer's gaze,

Ocean and earth contending for regard!
Lo! there a dim Egerian grotto fringed

companion.

In youth we love the darksome lawn Brush'd by the owlet's wing;

Then, Twilight is preferred to Dawn, And Autumn to the Spring.

Sad fancies do we then affect,

In luxury of disrespect

To our own prodigal excess
Of too familiar happiness.

2B ATHENEUM VOL. 7.

Dependant,-enter without further aim;
And let me see thee sink into a mood
Of quiet thought-protracted till thine eye
Be calm as water when the winds are gone
And no one can tell whither. Dearest Friend;
We two have known such happy hours together
That, were power granted to replace them (fetched
From out the pensive shadows where they lie)
In the first warmth of their original sunshine,
Loth should I be to use it; passing sweet
Are the domains of tender memory!

The poem written in sight of Wallace's Tower, at Cora Linn, cannot be passed in silence. It speaks in the grandest voice of inspiration.

Lord of the Vale! astounding flood!
The dullest leaf, in this thick wood,
Quakes-conscious of thy power;
The caves reply with hollow moan;
And vibrates to its central stone,
Yon time-cemented Tower!
And yet how fair the rural scene!
For thou, O Clyde, hast ever been
Beneficent and strong;

Pleased in refreshing dews to steep
The little trembling flowers that peep
Thy shelving rocks among.

Hence all who love their country, love
To look on thee-delight to rove
Where they thy voice can hear;
And to the patriot warrior's Shade,
Lord of the Vale! to Heroes laid
In dust, that voice is dear!
Along thy banks, at dead of night,
Sweeps visibly the Wallace Wight;
Or stands, in warlike vest,

Aloft, beneath the moon's pale beam,
A champion worthy of the stream,
Yon grey tower's living crest!

But clouds and envious darkness hide
A Form not doubtfully descried :
Their transient mission o'er,

O say to what blind regions flee
These Shapes of awful phantasy?

To what untrodden shore?

Less than divine command they spurn;
But this we from the mountains learn,
And this the valleys show,

That never will they deign to hold
Communion where the heart is cold
To human weal and woe.

The man of abject soul in vain
Shall walk the Marathonian Plain;
Or thrid the shadowy gloom,
That still invests the guardian Pass
Where stood sublime Leonidas,
Devoted to the tomb.

Nor deem that it can aught avail
For such to glide with oar or sail

Beneath the piny wood,

Where Tell once drew, by Uri's lake, His vengeful shafts-prepared to slake Their thirst in Tyrant's blood!

man sacrifices, and the abolition of slavery are cited as amongst the advantages of Christianity, we are too apt to forget the Slave Trade, and the auto-da-fes of the inquisition; and it may fairly be asked, whether the Druids of Europe and priests of Carthage immolated more victims on the altars of their gods than the churchmen of Castile and Arragon have sacrificed in the name of Heaven. God forbid, however, that we should impute to the Christian religion the crimes of its ministers! in that case, few professions of faith would excite more melancholy reflection than that of the church of Rome, particularly as established in Spain and Italy.

All that history relates of the Neros, Caligulas, and other monsters who ⚫ have at different periods outraged humanity, is far exceeded in atrocity by the annals of the holy office. We have hitherto had but very imperfect notions and incorrect accounts of this too famous tribunal, of which secrecy was the soul; while many have not hesitated to say, that the Inquisition had been

considering the Inquisition, of which he was long the secretary, for ever abolished after the French army entered Spain in 1808, undertook to write its history. All the archives of the supreme council and inferior tribunals were placed at his disposal; from these he extracted two hundred volumes in folio, comprising the correspondence and decrees of the inquisitors, and composed from those rich materials the work recently published. The perusal of the first volume alone is sufficient to make us blush for our species at the enormities into which men are hurried by fanaticism.

Amongst the innumerable blessings to which this country is indebted for the spirit of rational liberty that has always animated the people, the exemption of our ancestors from this revolting institution, is far from being the least important. In France, its origin was not unlike that of the Crusades; and the honour of it is given to St. Louis. The first members were a few monks, who were sent into the southern provinces to convert the Albigeois; they

next passed into Spain, where the Inquisition was finally established, and in the fifteenth century became in full activity.

A million of Jews had just embraced Christianity, to avoid being massacred. They were rich, and large sums were due to them: this was a good reason for suspecting the sincerity of their devotion. Extensive confiscations were, in consequence, pointed out to Ferdinand the Catholic, and Isabella, his Queen, and all the converted Jews of Arragon and Castile were given up to the scrutiny of the Inquisition, which abused its detestable powers in the most flagrant manner. Every converted Israelite who happened to put on a better dress than usual on a Saturday,or who passed a knife over the right thumb nail to examine the fineness of its edge, was charged with relapsing into Judaism.

The office of informer was a duty enjoined in the most peremptory manner to the husband and wife, father and son. That portion of the accused party's property which should be most agreeable to the informant, was promised to him, even before condemnation. The accused never knew by whom he had been denounced. In examining the witnesses, care was taken not to state the ground of accusation. The inquisitors required the accused to declare all they knew; bence resulted a host of incidental charges.

The torture was at hand to assist the memory of the accused; and as it was obtained from the liberality of the pious judges, that a culprit should only be exposed once to the interrogatory, the boly fathers made a point of inserting on the minutes, that the examination was suspended, after which they could renew it without any scruple, as it then became merely a continuation. Whoever happened to be declared a good Catholic, was, nevertheless, obliged to pay for his absolution; but this was so extremely rare, that until the reign of Philip III. we scarcely find a single instance of absolution out of two thousand judgments. In all the other cases, pains and penalties were imposed, more or less severe, according to the real or

imaginary crimes of the accused: any one who at once acknowledged himself guilty of Judaism, and affected repentance, was released on paying a large fine. Those who did not confess their error until after some delay, were condemned to have their property confiscated, and to be imprisoned for life. Whoever refused to become his own accuser was released, that is, given up to the secular branch, and burnt!

If by any accident or discovery, a condemned person was reprieved, he did not hear of it until he arrived at the foot of the scaffold, after having gone through all the dreadful ceremony of preparing for an ignominious death: this pardon generally bereft its objects of their reason. Every bishop had his prison, and each inquisitor possessed one for his own victims. These were soon filled, others were built and also gorged; at length, it became necessary to direct that all those who were condemned to perpetual imprisonment, should remain shut up in their own houses, and not come out under pain of death.

At Seville, were four statues of clay, representing the Prophets, in which heretics who had been condemned to the release were burned by a slow fire; others were put to death gradually, with sharply pointed reeds, and the high roads were often strewed with the members of these ill-fated victims.

A person might be both 'denounced and condemned long after his death: in this case, his bones were disinterred and collected; a son was once obliged to go to Toulouse and dig up the remains of his father, who had been tried in Spain; he was under the necessity of producing an attested paper to prove that the bones did not belong to another corpse. When such cases occurred, the property of the deceased was taken from his heirs, and confiscated as if he himself had been alive; even those who might have purchased it were forced to restore it, and the dowry given to his daughters were reclaimed.

An immense number of families sought their safety by flying into France, Italy, Portugal, and Africa; laws were passed against the fugitives: