vigorous exercise of the nobler functions of our nature, wherein our true existence lies; and, too frequently, that we relapse for a time into a state of somnolency or inanity, which is almost equivalent to spiritual extinction. ---Man here buries all his thoughts, Inters celestial hopes without one sigh! In the school of Pythagoras there was an admirable conceit for reproving this death-like slothfulness. Whenever a disciple abandoned his duties, and sunk into a state of inactivity, he was thenceforth reputed dead; his obsequies were performed, and a tomb erected to his memory. Indeed, there are numbers who virtually depart this life long before their names appear in the obituaries of the newspapers, or the graceful column shoots up from a flower-bed in the cemetery to do them posthumous honour." It is somewhat to be lamented that human beings should ever live as though they were merely confederates with the animal creation, when by descent and position the humblest is entitled to rank amongst all that is honourable and dignified in the universe. If man were, in some respects, a prouder, he would be a better creature. If he gloried in his high prerogatives as he might-as he ought-he would heroically stride over the little molehills of wealth and dignity which are thrust up in society, under the belief that they are towering, "heaven-kissing" Chimborazos, and take his stand upon the far more honourable basis of divine gifts and descent. Is he not by pedigree a prince of creation; by position a member of the great family of intelligences dispersed through the habitable isles of space, but yet associated into one vast hierarchy? He has, in truth, but one Master, to whom he is responsible for his acts and for his life-no viceroys or delegates are permitted to interpose themselves between him and his Sovereign-none cau bear his burden, or deprive him of his reward. He does not receive the bounties of the Deity secondhand; nor need he account to any beside. The position of man is one of commanding eminence, when his glance is directed to the objects which lie scattered about in the habitation where he is reared. He stands at the very verge of terrestrial existence; amongst myriads of creatures chiselled into forms of beauty and strength by the hand of the Deity, he is the noblest and most favoured; to him alone has been granted the free command and exercise of a responsible spirit. It is true that, when his thoughts transport him beyond his own planet, he becomes sensible that in his present form he belongs to an only art of innumerable orders of being; he perceives that he has his place (like the sun in the milky way) in the magnificent galaxy of life which arches the universe; then he perceives How high progressive Life may go, Around how wide; how deep extend below! But though he is thus placed, as it were, " midway between the insect and the Deity," is he not eligible to every rank and dignity above him, except the very highest? May he not be destined to graduate perpetually into spiritual organizations still loftier than his own? Is not the transmigration of souls-from the humbler to the higher-from the more confined to the more comprehensive-possible in this sense? It may be true that there can be no elaboration of the brute into the man-that the instinct of the beaver or elephant can never be sublimated into the intelligence of the mortal, though the much-disputed question, respecting the capacity of animals, has not served to establish such specific differences as would reduce them, according to Descartes, to the condition of mere articles of mechanism. But man has a patent of immortality. He has a whole eternity before him in which to accomplish these changes; in that eternity he cannot be idle or impassive; the germ of spiritual life, which ought to put forth its young shoots in this earth, must then grow and expand beneath those powerful influences which cannot but awaken what is dormant, and evoke what is latent in his nature. Give him but time, and he may get promotion. The future is the true alchemical power, which can transmute the baser fabric of an earth-born mind into the golden texture of a pure aspiring spirit. Indeed, we may say that man is the only thing in this world which does not properly, because not exclusively, appertain to it; he belongs rather to a life of which this is but a mere preliminary experiment. Considered with reference to his future existence, this is but an embryo-state-a place where human spirits are mysteriously warmed into being-where the rude mass should be shaped into form, and joints and sinews fully compacted; and then a blow from Death ruptures the fragile shell of their earthly life, and introduces them to their natural sphere of existence. Yes, truly, if man with his present glorious faculties and lofty endowments with his vast aims and stupendous achievements-with his temples, palaces, pyramids, cities, capitals-with his printing, travelling, creating processeswith his vast and gigantic machinery for the communication of good, or the infliction of evil upon his fellows-and above all, with the command of a spiritual constitution which may fashion itself into such radiant shapes as a Luther or Saint Paul, a Milton or Shakspere-if man, with all these, is yet but in his grub-state, what may not be expected of him in the thousand, thousand years, which still await him? BASIL LINCOLN. TO MY SISTER. I have known many friends-kind friends and true—- As a fair child, or when the fierce winds blew, And Hope's bright eyes dim with vain watchings grew ! As thou, sweet sister mine-my heart's May Queen, And love like ours, dear Mary, cannot die ; Old Time may bring his changes; Death, his tomb: Faith's holy star shines brighter through their gloom- Where Love shall reign when "Time shall be no more!" DELTA. LÜTZEN; A BALLAD. PART II. -THE BATTLE. WAKE, comrades !-from the misty east the sun is redly breaking. To prayer! our chaplain kneels. " O Lord! with whom are power and might, Avenge the slaughter of thy saints, whom these fierce men have slain- They would not bow them down, nor call upon their saints for aid. Rejoice! a breeze springs up, along the fog before it drifting. Dull Holland's heavy cuirassiers, all sheathed in steel, are there, O Lord, hear thou thy servants; arise this day in wrath, How monks, the spawn of cursed Rome, are hurrying to and fro, Hollo! what woman through their ranks is borne in yonder chair? And Friedland ne'er had coped with him could he the stars have read ; He reins his milk-white charger in, that, champing, paws the air, He humbly downwards points his sword-as low he kneels to prayer. Hushed are the shouts by thousands poured-no sound, no voice is heard ; So still it is, the ear will catch our monarch's every word. "Almighty God, disposer of the fate of battles, rise; In pity, we beseech thee, on thy servants turn thine eyes. One bound, he's on his rearing steed; from thousands, hushed till then, He comes-God save the king! our ranks he spurs his charger nigher; Be this day still yourselves-be what you've ever been before→→ Strike home for Germany, for faith, for freedom; and the Lord, But if in flight you forfeit fame, then damning infamy And death, from which you fly in vain, will your sure portion be. But why talk I of what can never be? Defeat and shame Will never blast your glory, or stain your spotless fame. "Germans! Friends! you for whom my Swedes and I have marched from far, Your children, and their children, through all time, will curse the name "Not under me, but with me, friends, you shall fight to-day; Tramp, tramp! Earth trembles 'neath our tread, as on we charging pour. For, far before the foremost, see, Gustavus takes the lead. He spurs his foaming war-horse on-ever that plume of green Or heads the charge, or dancing o'er the thickest fight is seen. On come the foe; down with them, men! Quarter? No; hell-hound, die ! "Say to the Count, I come-My men, follow your king once more. |