A COLLOQUY; OR, THE LAST ARCHERY MEETING. BY R. E. THACKERAY. "Mamma, it is our archery to-morrow; Border'd with Lincoln green; my plume is quite "Well, well, my dear! you'll see what you can do ; The club should build a shelter for mammas ; Men take their flight for some more genial clime, While we mamma's no sons-in-law can show !" LIFE'S MORNING. O! sweet our first moments, unsullied by pain, GEORGE HERBERT. How few in our day have read the pious verses of George Herbert, "the sweet singer of the Temple," as his biographer, old Walton, so loved to call him! Verses overflowing with the sensibilities of a heart consecrated to pious uses all a-glow with love for humanity, and an ardent desire to bring it nearer to Him who so freely gave himself for it. Sweet George Herbert! Who that has ever read the rich outpourings of your warm and pious spirit, but has felt how poor and cold in the comparison were the promptings of his own? Who that has ever pondered over your verse, radiant with the praises of that sanctuary in whose hallowed courts you loved to tread, but has felt the full force of your own sweet words : "A VERSE may find him who a sermon flies, And turn delight into a sacrifice?" George Herbert, the author of "The Temple," a collection of sacred poems, was of a most noble, generous, and ancient family. His brother was the famous Edward Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, who was himself a poet, but attained higher distinction as a statesman and historian, having filled, during the reign of James I., the responsible post of PrivyCouncillor and Ambassador to France. It was while engaged in the duties of this embassy that he composed his famous History of Henry the Eighth, so often quoted and referred to by the modern historian. The subject of our sketch was born at Montgomery Castle, in Wales, about the year 1593. He was educated at Westminster-school, and, being a king's scholar, was elected to Trinity College, Cambridge, about 1608. He took both degrees of the arts, and became a Fellow of the college. In 1619 he was chosen orator for the university, which post he held eight years. This office he filled with great honour to himself and the university. And this was no wonder, for, to use the quaint language of his biographer, old Izaak Walton: "He had acquired great learning, and was blessed with a high fancy, a civil and sharp wit, with a natural elegance both in his behaviour, his tongue, and his pen." When that royal pedant, King James, published his "Basilicon Doren," he sent a copy of it to the University of Cambridge. Herbert, in his capacity of orator, was called upon to acknowledge its receipt on behalf of the institution, which he did in a most elegant manner in a Latin letter. The excellence of its latinity, and the complimentary allusions plentifully sprinkled through it, so pleased the King, that he inquired of the Earl of Pembroke if he knew the learned scholar who penned the epistle. His answer was, that "he knew him very well, and that he was his kinsman; but that he loved him more for his learning and virtue than that he was of his name and family." At which answer the King smiled, and asked of the Earl leave that he might love him too, for he took him to be the jewel of that university. This complimentery remark of the King coming to the ears of Herbert, no doubt first turned his thoughts towards court-preferment; for about this time we find him applying himself to the study of the Italian, French, and Spanish languages, in which he is said to have attained great proficiency; and by means of the attainment of which, to use his own language, "he hoped to secure the place of Secretary of State, as Sir Francis Nethersole had done." This, and the love of court-conversation, with the laudable ambition to be something more than he then was, drew him often from Cambridge to attend his Majesty King James. Shortly after this the King visited Cambridge in state, and was received on behalf of the university by Herbert, in a most elegant oration in Latin, stuffed full, as the manner of the time then was, of the most fulsome adulation. his progress he was attended by the great Sir Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, and by the learned Dr. Andrews, Bishop of Winchester; and Herbert, by his learning and suavity, soon captivated these distinguished men. Bacon seems afterwards to have put such value upon his judgment, that he usually desired his approbation before he would expose any of his books to be printed; and thought him so worthy of his friendship, that, having translated many of the Prophet David's psalms into English verse, he made George Herbert his patron by a public dedication of them to him as the "best judge of divine poetry." In 1620 the King gave Herbert a sinecure, formerly conferred upon Sir Philip Sydney by Queen Elizabeth, worth some twelve hundred pounds per annum. In The His ambitious views of further court-preferment seem never to have been realized. character of his mind, perhaps, did not fit him for the responsible and complicated duties of a statesman, or he might have been deficient in those arts of the courtier so necessary and such ready aids to court-preferment. It may be that he had too independent a spirit, and could not "crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, that thrift might follow fawning." But, he this as it may, we think that in the sentiment contained in some verses written by our poet, about the period of his leaving the court and entering the ministry, we have a readier solution for this sudden relinquishment of his hopes of court-preferment. These verses were written upon the famous saying of Cardinal Wolsey, uttered by that proud churchman when his spirit was crushed, and the fruits of his ambition had turned to ashes on his lips: "Oh that I had served my God with half the zeal with which I have served my king! He would not thus in my old age have placed me in the power of mine enemies." No doubt the wholesome reflections inspired by the contemplation of these touching words awakened the sensitive mind of our poet to a full appreciation of the vanity of all earthly ambition. He discovered in time that pleasures springing from honour and grandeur of condition are soon faded; that the mind nauseates, and soon begins to feel their emptiness. In the words of one of England's most gifted divines: "Those who are so fond of public honour while they pursue it, how little do they taste it when they have it! Like lightning, it only flashes in the face; and it is well if it do not hurt the man." In 1630 he was admitted to the priestly office, and immediately inducted into the rectory of Bemerton, near Salisbury; and here it was, stripping from him the gaudy trappings of a fashionable court, he clothed himself in the better and more enduring robes of humility and meekness. It was here, amid the quiet shades of his peaceful parish, he prepared for his own use, and that of his brethren, a brief manual entitled "The Country Parson," the rich gatherings of his own experience, and the exemplification of his own earnestness and ardour in the performance of the duties of the pastoral office. His sermons, delivered while at Bemerton, are practical in doctrine, forcible in illustration, and make directly to the heart. And there is an eminent union of variety and faithfulness in his sermons; he never loses sight of the Cross as the central light and power in which everything lives aad moves and has its being. They are just such sermons as we should suppose the author of "The Country Parson" must have preached. They are, many of them, explanatory of the forms and services of the Church of England, urging their importance, and the necessity of their being truly understood. Without further speculating as to the reasons that induced our poet to fly from the courtcircles into the quiet retreat of the pastor's life, most certain it is that, about the year 1629, we find him renouncing the pomps and vanities of earthly ambition, and entering into holy orders. Previous to his induction we find him using the following language in a letter to He usually took his text from the Gospel of a friend: "I now look back upon my aspiring the day appointed to be read, and "did explain thoughts, and think myself more happy than if why the church did appoint that portion of I had attained what I then so ambitiously scripture to be that day read ;" and he shortly thirsted for. And now I can behold the court made it appear to them (to use his own words) with an impartial eye, and see that it is made up" that the whole service of the church was a reaof graced titles and flattery, and many other such empty painted pleasures-so empty as not to satisfy when they are enjoyed: but in God and his service is a fulness of all joy and pleasure, but no satiety." Of the fervency of his piety we have a most beautiful exemplification in some of his poems published about this time, especially in that styled "The Odour," in which he seems to rejoice in the thought of the word JESUS, and conceives that the adding the words "My MASTER" to it, "perfumed the mind, and left an oriental fragrance in the very breath." Alluding, in another poem, to his unforced choice to serve at GOD's altars, he says: sonable, and therefore an acceptable sacrifice to God-as, namely, we begin with confession of ourselves to be vile and miserable sinners; and we begin so, because, until we have confessed ourselves to be such, we are not capable of that mercy which we so much need; but having in the prayer of our Lord begged pardon for those sins we have confessed, and hoping by our public confession and real repentance we have obtained that pardon, then we dare and do proceed to beg of the Lord "to open our lips, that our mouths may show forth His praise;" for, till then, we are not able and worthy to praise Him." The fasts and holy-days of the Church, and the benefits to be derived from their observance, "I KNOW the ways of learning, both the heads and were most beautifully illustrated in Herbert's pipes That feed the press, and make it run; I know the ways of honour; what maintains I know the ways of pleasure, the sweet strains, The proposition of hot blood and brains; to THEE." discourses; and we venture to say, that in the sermons of no clergyman of the Church of England, or the Episcopal Church of America, can there be found so practical and beautiful an exemplification of the excellency of the Episcopal Church service. The simple parishioners of Bemerton learned to love the service of their church under the preaching of their sainted pastor, because its practical usefulness, and its adaptation to their every spiritual want, reached the door of their hearts. The form they were taught nothing, save the most fitting vehicle of their thoughts, and spiritual wants and aspirations. In this age, when the cold religion of formality is seen struggling for the mastery oyer that which is ardent was H and spiritual; when "the outward and visible sign" seems to be more thought of than "the inward and spiritual grace;" when the outward adornments of the sanctuary are held almost in as high value, and as necessary to salvation, as the inward adornment of the meek and quiet spirit, it is refreshing to read such sermons as those of Herbert. He was a formalist only so far as form could be made a means to an end; a means to bring man to a closer contemplation of the love and abounding mercies of God; a means through which he could be made to praise him in holiness, beauty, and truth. The form he looked upon as the fitting vehicle, "the silken twist," to lead man's thoughts in fit expression up to the throne of God. The summum bonum, the all-in-all of religion, he still believed, and so most earnestly taught, to consist of the free-will offering of the penitent and pious spirit. This is not the theology of our age, we fear. It has little to do with the faith once delivered to the saints. In our country, man's faith in God seems now made to depend on the fluctuating fortunes of religious parties, on the ingenuity of an advocate, or the decision of a judge. In England it has been said that a good Protestant may now-a-days go to bed in the odour of orthodoxy, and get up spotted with the darkest stains of heresy, Religion has lost its vitality. Its outward and visible sign, the cross, still glitters over its cathedrals and churches; but the essentialsfaith, hope, and charity-have gone, and in their place we have the faith of Christ fought for on the floor of the Court of Arches, instead of on the broad field of the human soul. Controversial diversity has taken the place of "the great laws of life." In his essay "On the Duties of the Country Parson," he enjoins upon the pastor." to be constant in every good work, setting such an example to his flock as they may be glad to follow; and, by so doing, profit thereby to their souls' good." And most diligently (if we are to believe the testimony of his contemporaries) did George Herbert conforin himself to the character so beautifully sketched. In the functions of his humble office, he is said to have led a most pious and blameless life. The priests of the Levitical ministration put on the humerus, blazing with jewels, before they took the breastplate of righteousness and truth; thereby signifying that the priest must be a shining light, resplendent with good works, before he fed the flock with righteousness and truth, the legitimate milk of the Word. And in the daily beauty of his blameless life; in the gentle, dove-like spirit that animated his every motive, his daily charities, and his devout ministerings at the altar, Herbert most beautifully illustrated the doctrines that he preached. His life was indeed a shining light, resplendent with good works; and the flock which he so faithfully tended, found through his guidance spiritual pastures beside the still waters.' Quaint old Jeremy Taylor, alluding to the necessity of the Christian pastor's exemplifying in his daily life the doctrines that he preaches, most beautifully remarks: "Herod's doves could never have invited so many strangers to their dove-cots, if they had not been be-smeared with most fra grant ointment. As said Dydimus: Make your pigeons smell sweet, and they will allure whole flocks. And, Christian pastor, if your life be excellent, your virtues like precious ointment, full of fragrance, you will soon invite your charges to run after your precious odours."" Such in all things was the subject of our sketch. His virtues were the precious ointment, full of fragrance, alluring the quiet flock his MASTER had given him to feed. character than we intended, though perhaps We have said more of Herbert in his pastoral illustration of the beautiful simplicity and pious we have not dwelt upon it too long to give an ardour of the man. It was in the quiet village of Bemerton that called "The Temple," of which it was said by a Herbert composed his little volume of poems, contemporary: "There was in it the picture of a divine soul in every page, and the whole book was such a harmony of holy passions as would enrich the world with pleasure and piety." The We do not claim for these songs any great poetic merit. They abound with faults peculiar to most of the minor poets of that age. versification is often rough and inharmonious, fetched conceits are most plentifully sprinkled the words ill-chosen for the rhyme, while farthrough them. peculiar to the versification of the time in which These, however, are faults our poet flourished. The great merit of these songs, most undoubtedly, consists mainly in that characterize them. The reader is attracted the pious ardour and genuine devotional feeling at once by the deep tone of earnest piety they in the poet's mind to give utterance to his demanifest. There seems to be a constant effort votional feelings in words of earnestness and high and noble theme he had chosen for his power, such words as shall not dishonour the subject. It can readily be discovered that they give utterance to the language of his heart, and that the influence of that heart's holiest affecIf there is any truth in those sweet lines of tions was the happiest inspiration of his verse. Cowper: "The poet's lyre, to fix his fame, then good George Herbert made sure his claim Wherever deep and holy love for sacred Herbert will find many ardent admirers. They things is esteemed, there the verses of George consecrated to pious uses, and attuned to sacred are the pure and free-will offerings of a heart harmonies; the soft breathings of a devotional spirit, that seem too pure for earth. When he sings of the church where he so loved to worship, it is with all the earnest enthusiasm, if not with the inspiration, of that noble song of Solomon's, commencing "Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair. Thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks; thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Mount Gilead. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of pomegranate within thy locks. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot within thee." And Herbert loved the church because it was the fold where he could gather the flock that had been given him to tend. The church on earth was to him an emblem of the spiritual church 'eternal in the heavens.' His gentle spirit seems radiant with love, whenever he sings of its quiet retreats and the rich solemnities of its glorious worship. The poems styled 'The Temple' are preceded by a long poem as a preface, called "The Church Porch,' where he would have the reader linger before entering the sanctuary. Here the poet takes occasion to give sage counsel and most excellent advice, the better to fit the mind for the contemplation of the sacredness of the sanctuary beyond. He would purify the spirit from the dross of earthly vices; he would have it purged of the contaminations of earth, before entering the temple where the Divine Presence loved to dwell. And no one can read the advice embodied in this introductory poem, but must rise from the perusal with the conviction that it contains a most admirable code of morality, enforced by the wisest precepts. Independent of its religious tone, it may be said to contain the choicest principles, enforced by illustrations that carry conviction to the mind at once. In the rude measure of the time, it holds up virtue in all its beauty to our approbation, and lays bare the hideousness of vice. Is last within, polluting, corrupting, and withering the soul, his warning is: Extravagance, the fruitful mother of debt, penury, and want, which, has desolated as many homes, withered as many hearts, and destroyed as many lives as the sword, he thus rebukes: "Never exceed thy income: youth may make Shoots a bow short, and lessens still his stake Even with the year; but age, if it will hit, As the day lessens, and his life with it: The dangers that wait on suretyship, and the madness of yielding to its pressing importuni ties, are thus boldly delineated: "Yet be not surety. If thou be a father, Love is a personal debt. I cannot give My children's right, nor ought he take it; rather Both friends should die, than hinder them to live. Fathers first enter bonds to nature's ends, And are her sureties ere they are friends.” The spirit in which we should enter the hallowed courts of the sanctuary is set forth thus: "When once thy foot enters the church, believe Space will not permit us to make farther extracts from The Porch. Enough has been given to show its tone and character. The poems called "The Temple," thus introduced, are a series of devotional songs upon sacred subjects, overflowing with ardent feeling, and manifesting the existence of a piety, as fervent as it is rare. In his verses on Prayer, we have an apt illustratration of our author's style and devotional Whom God in baptism washed with His own blood: ardour: It blots the lesson written in thy soul; The holy words cannot be understood. How dare those eyes upon a Bible look, "Prayer, the church's banquet, angel's age, God's breath in man returning to his birth, Much less toward God, whose lust is all their book!" The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage, Profanity he rebukes in lines like these: "Take not His name, who made thy mouth, in vain; Remembering in whose sight "lying lips are an abomination," and the sacredness of whose sanctuary is polluted by falsehood, he breaks forth with indignant tone: The Christian's plummet, sounding heaven and earth." the blessings that accompany it, invoke such The quiet stillness of the Sabbath morn, and lines as these: "O day most calm, most bright! The fruit of this, the next world's bud; The endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a Friend, and with his blood; The couch of time; care's balm aud bay; The week were dark, but for thy light; Thy torch doth show the way. |