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and valued, but Milton's Paradise Lost | echoes in his inmost soul, and in the did more than any human work to mould spirit of that young Themistocles who his mind and heart into those noble could not sleep in sight of the field of forms which they ultimately assumed. Marathon and the trophies of Miltiades, Before he was introduced to Milton, he he began to measure his soul severely,' met accidentally with an odd number with bards of honourable name, and of the Spectator, and his remark after search for theme deserving of immortal reading it, displayed much of that verse.' self-reliance to which he was afterwards so much indebted in the prosecution of his great work. After perusing one of the papers with deep attention, he closed the book, and said, "I think I could write like that." Such words as these from the lips of an ordinary boy, would have betrayed nothing but bad discernment and childish conceit. Pollok has since amply vindicated his discernment, in thus cherishing, as we believe every man of genius has done, high expectations of himself. Pope's Essay on Man, at a later period, fell into his hands, and "charmed him with the exquisite harmony of its versification."

"But, soon after, another book fell into his hands, which exerted a far mightier influence over his character, not merely informing him in regard to the structure of poetry, but unveiling to him its essence, and haunting him with thoughts which at length stirred within him, if not an equal, at least a kindred flame. This was 'Milton's Paradise Lost.'

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The various influences adverted to as contributing to expand and modify the genius of Pollok are admirably discussed by Mr Thomson. We confess, we should have liked a paragraph or two of equal sagacity and elegance on the influence of those "hard lessons of adversity" to which he properly observes Pollok was no stranger. It would have been a sacrifice of truth to a very pusillanimous kind of taste, in his brother to have withheld those details in the biography which unfold the hampered pecuniary circumstances of the poet. The most thrilling passages in Pollok's life are those which reveal his combat with poverty. They are unspeakably more honourable to him, than would have been the possession of the amplest estate within the wide limits of his native landscape. We envy not the person who can peruse without emotion the following extract of a letter to his brother, dated June 13, 1820-“To be aiming at literature without adequate "He found a copy of it one day,' assistance, is a hard task; but to be says his brother. among some old books without adequate assistance and stimuon the upper shelf of the wall-press in lating health, is harder still. I have not the kitchen, where it had lain neglected spoken of the state of my health to any for years. Though he had never seen person here, but the lowness of my spirits Paradise Lost before, he had often heard | is no doubt visible. My constitution is of it, and he began to read it immediately. yet strong, and far from being sickly. He was captivated with it at the very Dr Reid, the last time I saw him, said first and, after that, as long as he staid there was no danger whatever, and reat Horsehill, he took it up whenever he commended residing a month or two in had the least opportunity, and read with Arran, and taking occasional sails. The great eagerness. When he was leaving racity of the air in that quarter would the place, his uncle, seeing him so fond probably have a good effect on the mind; of the book, gave it to him in a present, and the sea-beathing, which I never and from that time Milton became his tried, might have an influence of some favourite author, and, I may say, next kind on the body; but to go there and to the bible, his chief companion. be comfortable, requires money, and yon Henceforward, he read more or less of know that is not to be found. Were I him every day, and used often to repeat even to get it here, I know so well their aloud, in bed, immediately before rising inability to assist me, that every shilling in the morning, what was his favourite which I spend tortures my soul. I do passage in Paradise Lost-the apostrophe not write this to hurt your feelings, but to Light in the beginning of the third it gives me some pleasure to combook. From this hour Pollok became municate my own feelings to you; and, the subject of a new impulse. The vow at the same time, to have your advice of self-consecration to poetry was taken in return will afford me satisfaction." not the less solemnly, that as yet it was In transcribing this affecting fragment unbreathed to mortal ear. The strains we think it possible that it may fall of the bard of Paradise found congenial under the eye of some of the more opu3 G

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NO. IX. VOL. III.

lent friends of the Secession church who feel an interest in the rising ministry, who know it is more blessed to give than to receive, and to whom there has been proposed a scheme for the establishment and distribution of bursaries for the benefit of our students, on a system of competition that would greatly benefit the church, while it would encourage and reward true merit in its hard battle with difficulties often almost overwhelming. In Pollok the words of the well-known elegy had almost become verified :"Chill penury repressed his noble rage,

And froze the genial currents of his soul." The very conflict with these difficulties, however, though it ended in victory, left deep wounds on that sensitive spirit; and an early grave instead of a life of ministerial usefulness, high in proportion to its promise, has happened' to Pollok partly as the consequence of his protracted and unaided struggle with adversity. It is not however probably the worse for "The Course of Time," as described by him, that it was seen under the gloomy reflexion of that dark background which encircled his own life. The very cloud that hung so densely over him, spreading its gloom around, tended to his eye to shade and dim the mere tinsel of this world, by which most men are dazzled almost to blindness. No uninspired poet ever more effectually tore the veil from the face of present things, and exhibited them in their naked reality, more visibly, than Robert Pollok. To do this service aright; to go up into that higher place of observation, from which he could look down on "the fashion of this world," with an eye like that of Christ, required that he should know no small measure of adversity, and should thus be made to feel what "this present evil world" is, bereft of its pomp and circumstance. In this way he became naturally fitted for moving along his course as a moral painter, with his pencil in his hand, sketching true pictures, and giving that tinge of awful sadness and solemnity to the moral scenery "of time," with which it really is invested, in the eyes of a competent observer.

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In connexion with these remarks, we might speak of the amazing activity of Pollok's temperament. One or two incidents seem to show that he was the subject of almost spasmodic energy, which though at one time it seemed nearly ungovernable, was ultimately brought under the dominion not only of reason but of religion.

The portraiture of his religious character, Mr Thomson has contrived beautifully to interweave with the entire texture of his narrative. Pollok's character as a christian man is a theme of peculiar interest. He has done what no man but a Christian, would ever have attemptedhe has embodied the substance and spirit of evangelical truth in his immortal poem. The entire work is cast in the mould of a mind familiar with the grand themes of the bible. Pollok's theology is as much superior to Milton's, as Milton's poetry is superior to Pollok's. It embodies a greater mass of saving truth in that fervid form which becomes a poetical production, than any other poem that we know-more than all even of Cowper's poems put together, if we except perhaps his Olney Hymns. He must take a place second not only to Milton but to several of Milton's inferiors in genius, but it is his high distinction, that his poem stands second to none in the service it does to the cause of religion.

One interesting circumstance, we mention here, relating to an early period of his life. When a boy, he was subject to the most violent exasperation. He was passionate with an energy which it was painful to witness. About the age of fifteen, a change took place in his behaviour, in this respect, so entire, as to be visible to all his friends. When questioned afterwards upon the subject, this was his reply: "While perusing the gospels for myself, I was struck with the meekness and calm dignity of the Saviour, under provocation, and I resolved, thenceforward, to command my temper-and since that time, though I may feel and express anger, nothing ever puts me into a passion." Describ ing, several years afterwards, the early life of the father of " the persecuted family," he writes: "The history of our Saviour's life, and sufferings and death, made a most extraordinary impression on his mind, and while he read, and loved and adored, his soul took on the likeness of the great Testator." It seems a prevailing instinct of genius, to prompt its possessors in their works of fiction, insensibly to portray themselves; and we might point to various passages of the Course of Time in proof of this remark. One passage we cannot pass without presenting to our readers. It relates, as Mr Thomson and others we think not without good reason have supposed, to that inward change (or at least to the evidence of his having undergone that change), without

which a man cannot enter into the king-in this borrowed light, these commondom of heaven :

"When thus he lay,
Forlorn of heart, withered and desolate,
As leaf of Autuinn, which the wolfish winds,
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase,
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes,
And leave it there alone, to be forgotten
Eternally, God passed in mercy by-

His praise be ever new !-and on him breathed,
And bade him live, and put into his hands
A holy harp, into his lips a song,
That rolled its numbers down the tide of Time!
Ambitious now but little to be praised
Of men alone; ambitious most to be
Approved of God, the Judge of all; and have
His name recorded in the Book of Life."

The most interesting light which the Tales shed upon their author, is that which they reflect on his religious character. The sentiments to which he has consecrated their pages, are love to liberty, love to souls, love to Christ. They are, we believe, well fitted to impart, in an interesting form, religious instruction to the young, to whose perusal we are free to recommend them. The critic will find in them not a little to blame their want of character, of incident, of action; he will find much less to admire than he would have expected from the man who wrote the Course of Time; but the Christian will find much as illustrative of Pollok's character, for which to thank that God who inspired him not only with genius but with grace.

place productions-so hasty, we might almost say extemporaneous in their execution, are invested with a singular interest from their giving us the means of measuring the incredible advance of Pollok's genius, during the two or three last years of his life.

Much might be said on the claims and merits of the Course of Time. We feel disposed to add nothing to Mr Thomson's able and judicious criticism, which, much against our will, our want of space compels us to exclude. We earnestly join his protest against the disparagement of Pollok by incompetent critics, and against the equally ill-judged exaltation of him to the level of Milton.

The entire sketch we recommend as an able analysis of the mental and religious character of this interesting poet : Our readers, we believe, will, on perusing it, feel gratified, as we have done, to find some proof that there are not wanting among our young ministers, those who have cultivated with a considerable measure of success, the grace of an elegant and yet simple and manly style.

FREE CHURCH MAGAZINE for August.

Edinburgh: J. Johnstone. HAVING at length made up his mind, our cotemporary indites a reply to our article in the July number of this Jour nal, complaining of the unprovoked attack, by the Free Church Magazine of June last, on the Voluntaryism and Voluntaries of Scotland. Regret is expressed that "language fitted to give offence was inadvertently used;" but, on the whole, the tone is rather that of regret that offence should have been taken, than that it should have been given. The article, therefore, wants all the grace and manliness of an act of reparation, and insinuates that the dispute is greatly owing to a misunderstanding of ours, which the editor professes to point out and correct. As the question, What is the meaning of the article complained of? lies at the foundation of the whole affair, we will settle the matter of interpretation first.

As intellectual productions, the Tales must rank with all Pollok's earlier pieces that have since been published, in that place of unquestionable inferiority to himself, in which we are persuaded, he himself would have put them, had he been consulted. We are not aware that the inferiority of his earlier poetical performances has been so strongly represented as the case deserves. In regard to the Tales, it is known that the poet had a strong repugnance to the idea of their being put in any association with the poem; but it is one of the laws of literature, that no man of genius having given a production to the world, can divest it of the interest derived from his name, or renounce the discredit or honour attaching to its authorship. There are two relations in which a work In a way which seems to us rather and its author's name, may stand to one vague and confused, the Free Church another. His work may derive most of Magazine states that the censures comits interest from his name, or his name plained of were directed, not against may derive most of its interest from his voluntaries generally, but had reference work. The Tales of the Covenanters, to those who had joined the Establishand "The Course of Time," stand ment, and to the "political," as distinvery nearly in these antipodal relations guished from the "religious" voluntaries. to each other. Still, though shining A little attention to the language em

ployed will suffice to show that this could tributor and himself. The plain intent not by any possibility be understood as of the writer was:-Some of these inen its meaning. There were two points on have shown that their motives were poliwhich our cotemporary expressed him- tical, and we infer nothing better of the self in condemnatory terms. One was, rest. In the third place, the voluntaries the conduct of those professed volun- spoken of, are those who were actively taries who had joined the Establishment; concerned in the controversy with the and the other was, the conduct and Established Church, one part of the incharacter of the adherents of the volun- dictment being, that they have ceased tary principle, whom he represented as from their efforts. In other words, the "the deadly enemies of evangelical re- advocates of the voluntary controversy, ligion." To these two points our remarks and all represented by them, are, by the corresponded. We had no difference assailant's own account, the parties whom with our cotemporary regarding what he designed to vilify. He gives us to he said of conformers to the Establish- know, as plainly as words can do it, ment. We condemned their con- that he has in view the voluntaries, as duct not less than the Free Church Magazine. It was the other point, and that alone, which constituted the charge we repelled the wrong we complained of. But our cotemporary, in his reply, dwells on the conduct of the deserters: "We still regard the conduct of those Relief and Secession ministers who have We have thought these explanations sought admission to the Establishment, necessary, because our cotemporary disas inconsistent with their former loudly- tinctly accuses us of misapprehending his proclaimed principles, and in this opinion meaning; and we have no regard for that we doubtless have the concurrence of kind of apology which consists in an amthe editor of the United Secession Ma-biguous expression of regret, and which gazine himself," as if so puerile a truism as, that it is inconsistent for men to forsake their principles, were the matter of debate between us.

Our cotemporary farther states, that, in his reference to the friends of the voluntary principle, it was the "political," not the "religious" voluntaries he had in view. We shall show again, that we were not at fault in attaching a more general meaning to his language, and that it could not possibly be understood in the limited sense which he now ascribes to it. For, in the first place, there is, in the article referred to, no mention of any such distinction; there is nothing that implies it, and what else could any man suppose, but that, when our assailant was speaking of voluntaries, without any qualification, he meant us to understand that he was speaking of them generally? But, in the second place, as the reproach of voluntaryism being a merely "political thing," is founded on the conduct of Messrs Pollock, &c., it follows that, when our cotemporary alleges that his strictures were confined to the "political" voluntaries, he reduces himself to the futility of saying, that it now appears the "political" voluntaries are "political," an example of demonstration which we do not suppose the writer of that article intended, however willing the editor may be to throw a broken shield over his con

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represented by their committees and boards, their public men, and public meetings; and we put it to every one in the least acquainted with the state of parties, if such language does not em. brace the great mass of voluntaryism in this part of the kingdom.

then attempts to throw great part of the blame on readiness to take offence by the complaining party. As this is a common shift in controversy, we took special care to protect ourselves against it, by quoting at length, in our July number, the libellous charges, to which our readers, if they think it worth while, may recur for more complete satisfaction.

Our cotemporary, though very fond, as he tells us, of discussing "great principles," condescends to one or two personal allusions, to which we shall be expected to advert. The article, we are told, was "written hurriedly," and we are blamed for not assuming this in our reply, from what we knew, or should have known, of the pacific disposition of the Free Church editor. Now, how could we "assume" any such thing? What could we know of the time the writer of that article took to brood over his ditty; and although, for aught we will undertake to say to the contrary, the editor of the Free Church Magazine may be a very peaceable person, yet it so happens that anything we have had to do with him hitherto has been in the way of repelling gratuitous and unmerited attacks. The truth is, that in cases of this kind a plea of haste does not very much mend the matter. Things done in a heat are sometimes the surest indications of an assailant's temper. He is

other people cause any breach of the peace, not he but they are to be blamed for it.-If he will play the fool, he must lay his account with being sometimes answered according to his folly.

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We do not know that our cotemporary will allow that he has sat for the picture; for he tells us that he has "striven to avoid the lower regions of controversy, where personalities and terms of abuse abound." With a becoming sense of what is due to one who tells us that he sits in the upper regions of his vocation, doubtless enjoying a serene altitude of his own, we would take leave to hint how wofully he must have slid from his editorial sublimities, when he suffered himself to be caught in the veriest slime-pits of vulgar controversy, comparing neighbouring churches to jawholes," and pouring on others, without the slightest provocation, the coarsest terms of abuse which it has been our evil lot to meet with for many a day, in any journal with which we are acquainted. For one whose pages are still wet with some of the lowest examples of pamphleteering scurrility, to talk of his superiority to personal and party warfare, does appear to us a remarkably cool specimen of theological bronze. Perhaps he forgot himself. Be it so. We are told that Homer is not always awake; and it may be that this Jupiter Olympius sometimes nods to keep him company.

off his guard; and out of the abundance | corner, soliloquising on his peaceable of the heart the mouth speaketh. The temper, and comforting himself with anti-voluntary manifesto had, we con- the thought, that if his attacks on fess, some appearance of haste of this kind. The writer seemed to feel what he said. Is this any commendation? A few angry words would have been of comparatively small account; it was the pervading spirit of the article that imparted to it its tone of malignity. But the Free Church editor, it would appear, has done us some kindness of old, which should have kept us quiet; if not satisfied us that his aspersions were fraternal and wellintended:-"Had the editor of the United Secession Magazine remembered our forbearance towards himself on a former occasion, he might, we think, have abstained from the use of such language, as inward canker," &c. Our readers may not at once understand what is meant. Two years ago the Free Church Magazine took part in the atonement controversy-the apparent object being to thrust at the good name of the United Secession. After feeling his way in one or two introductory papers, he thought his way clear for an open attack. To this we replied, pointing out his unfairness, in the view he gave of our Synod's doctrine, and the inconsistency of his own obsequious compromises with Arminianism, while professing orthodox alarms about the state of matters in the Secession body. Truth being on our side, a few words were enough. Our good brother shut his mouth in a moment; and, now that he thinks fit again to open it, it is to take credit to himself for his "forbearance." How particularly obliging!-to remind us of an assailant who is so courageous as to make an attack; and when withstood, he is so "forbearing" as to take the hint and run away. Our cotemporary's "forbearance" does not scruple to libel his unoffending neighbours as guilty of things "deplorably mean and base;" as allied with "open infidels" in "a deadly hatred of evangelical religion;" and as "inspired by enmity to the truth," and "bitter malice" against the Free Church; his "forbearance" is only concerned how to take care of himself when he finds he has got into a quarrel. It is an unhappy temper for a public journalist, when he thus mingles the pragmatical with the pusillanimous :—when he cannot resist a bustling propensity to tilt at other people's reputation, and to tamper in their affairs, and so soon as he gets chastised for his unfair and unprovoked intermeddling, to steal away into his

Our cotemporary, and very possibly others, "cannot help thinking" that we have taken more notice of this affair than it deserves. We should think so ourselves, if it were only the Free Church Magazine that is concerned. But a journal that takes the name of "Free Church," may be presumed to express the sentiments of a large proportion of the members of that body; and when articles are found in it, libelling and lampooning in general terms their voluntary brethren, and the matter is set aside with a paltry attempt, partly to justify and partly to explain it away,the growth of an unsound and uneasy feeling of mutual distrust is the inevitable consequence. And therefore we speak plainly, being willing, as far as lies in us, to counteract the mischief, and to do away with what Dr Chalmers felicitously calls "unexplained grudges." It is not the Secession Church alone that we consider as assailed, nor is it as members of that church we have repelled the aggres

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