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wrung them

Course one another o'er thy silver bosom : Even now our city trembles on the verge
And yet thy flowing is through fields of blood, Of utter ruin. Yet a night or two,
And armed men their hot and weary brows And the fierce stranger in our burning streets
Slake with thy limpid and perennial coolness. Stands conqueror; and how the Roman

Even with such rare and singular purity conquers,
Mov'st thou, oh Miriam, in yon cruel city. Let Gischala, let fallen Jotapata
Men's eyes, o'erwearied with the sights of Tell, if one living man, one innocent child,

Yet wander o'er their cold and scatter'd ashes. Wich tumult and with grief, repose on thee They slew them, Miriam, the old gray man, As on a refuge and a sweet refreshment. Whose blood scarce tinged their swordsThou canst o'erawe, thou in thy gentleness, (nay, turn not from me, A trembling, pale, and melancholy maid, The tears thou sheddest feel as though I The brutal violence of ungodly men. Thou glidest on amid the dark pollution From mine own heart, my life-blood's dear. In modesty unstain'd, and heavenly in- est drops)fluences,

They slew them, Miriam, at the mother's More lovely than the light of star or moon, breast, As though delighted with their own reflection The smiling infants ;- and the tender maid, From spirit so pure, dwell evermore upon The soft, the loving, and the chaste, like thee

thee, Oh! how dost thou, beloved proselyte They slew her not till To the high creed of him who died for men, Mir. Javan, 'tis unkind ! Oh ! how dost thou commend the truths I I have enough at home of thoughts like these, teach thee,

Thoughts horrible, that freeze the blood, By the strong faith and soft humility

and make Wherewith thy soul embraces them! Thou A heavier burthen of this weary life. prayest,

I hop'd with thee t' have passà a tranquil And I, who pray with thee, feel my words hour! wing'd,

A brief, a hurried, yet still tranquil hour ! And holier fervor gushing from my heart, But thou art like them all ! the miserable While heaven seems smiling kind acceptance Have only Heaven, where they can rest in down

peace, On the associate of so pure a worshipper. Without being mock'd and taunted with But ah! why com'st thou not ? these two

their misery long nights

Jav. Thou know'st it is a lover's way. I've watch'd for thee in vain, and have not felt

ward joy The music of thy footsteps on my spirit- To be reproach'd by her he loves, or thus (Voice at a distance.) Javan !

Thou would'st not speak. Jav. It is her voice! the air is fond of it, On her return, the maiden sings a And enviously delays its tender sounds

hymn, of which the following beauFrom the ear that thirsteth for them

tiful verses form a part. They scarceMiriam !

ly shrink from a comparison with the Javan, Miriam.

divine Christmas hymn of MiltonJav. Nay, stand thus in thy timid breath. the lovely melody of which, indeed, lessness,

has evidently been on the ear of the That I may gaze on thee, and thou not author. chide me

For thou wert born of woman ! thou didst Because I gaze too fondly.

come, Mir. Hast thou brought me

Oh Holiest! to this world of sin and gloom, Thy wonted offerings ?

Not in thy dread omnipotent array ; Jav. Dearest, they are here :

And not by thunders strew'd The bursting fig, the cool and ripe pome.

Was thy tempestuous road; granate, The skin all rosy with the emprisoned wine;

Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way,

But thee, a soft and naked child, All I can bear thee, more than thou canst bear

Thy mother undefiled, Home to the city.

In the rude manger laid to rest Mir. Bless thee! Oh my father!

From off her virgin breast. How will thy famish'd and thy toil-bow'd frame

The heavens were not commanded to preResume its native majesty! thy words,

pare When this bright draught hath slak'd thy A gorgeous canopy of golden air ; parched lips,

Nor stoop'd their lamps th' enthroned Flow with their wonted freedom and com. fires on high : mand.

A single silent star Jav. Thy father ! still no thought but of Came wandering from afar, thy father!

Gliding uncheck'd and calm along the lio Nay, Miriam! but thou must hear me now, quid sky; Now ere we part—if we must part again, The Eastern Sages leading on If my sad spirit must be rent from thine.

As at a kingly throne,

To lay their gold and odours sweet as it binds together the whole series of
Before thy infant feet.

events, and places the reader in the The Earth and Ocean were not hush'd to best position to survey the impending hear

burst of ruin. The chamber of AmaBright harmony from every starry sphere; riah is disturbed immediately afterNor at thy presence brake the voice of song wards, by the alarm that the Romans From all the cherub choirs,

have forced the wall, and that the temAnd seraphs' burning lyres Pour'd thro' the host of heaven the charmed The bridegroom rushes forth ;-hav

ple is wrapped in unquenchable flames. clouds along. One angel troop the strain began,

ing ascertained the measure of the Of all the race of man

calamity, he returns only to bury his By simple shepherds heard alone,

sword in the bosom of his bride, as That soft Hosanna's tone.

her sole protection from “ the Gentile

ravisher," and to wash away the pain And when thou didst depart, no car of of the wound with his last burning

flame To bear thee hence in lambent radiance tial veil, and dies in the arms of Mi

tears. Salone comes out in her nupcame; Nor visible Angels mourn'd with droop- riam in the porch ; and ere long the ing plumes :

light of the conflagration shews the halfNor didst thou mount on high armed body of her husband stretched From fatal Calvary

bloody by her side. At the moment With all thine own redeem'd out bursting when nothing seems to be reserved to from their tombs.

save the Christian maiden from the For thou didst bear away from earth But one of human birth,

common ruin, a Gentile soldier apThe dying felon by thy side, to be

proaches her with a demeanour of unIn Paradise with thee.

expected gentleness, and in silence

constrains her to follow him. He Na o'er thy cross the clouds of vengeance leads her, half unconscious whither

brake; A listle while the conscious earth did shake ments of the city on to the rampart,

she is going, over the burning fragAtthat foul deed by her fiercechildren done; A few dim hours of day

and thence down the path, with The world in darkness lay ;

which she had supposed herself alone Then bask'd in bright repose beneath the to be acquainted, to the fountain of cloudless sun;

Siloe. She starts on finding that she While thou didst sleep within the tomb, is once more at that haunted scene; Consenting to thy doom ;

and half suspects that Javan has asa Ere yet the white-robed Angel shone

sumed the disguise of a Roman soldier, Upon the sealed stone.

and braved the dangers of the storm And when thou didst arise, thou didst not as a last effort for her protection. stand

The Fountain of Siloe.-Miriam, the Solo With Devastation in thy red right hand,

dier. Plaguing the guilty city'smurtherous crew; But thou didst haste to meet

Mir. Here, here not here oh! any

where but hereThy mother's coming feet, And bear the words of peace unto the faith. Not toward the fountain, not by this lone ful few.

path. Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise

If thou wilt bear me hence, I'll kiss thy feet, Into thy native skies,

I'll call down blessings, a lost virgin's bless

ings Thy human form dissolved on high In its own radiancy,

Upon thy head. Thou hast hurried me along, In the interval which elapses be- Through darkling street, and over smoking tween the commencement of Salone's And yet there seem'd a soft solicitude, Bridal-song and the final alarm, Mi. And an officious kindness in thy violence riam, who is standing in her father's But I've not heard thy voice. gate, meets with an old Jew, who re

Oh, strangely cruel ! counts to her that he had been pre- And wilt thou make me sit even on this stone, sent when Christ was led to the cross Where I have sate so oft, when the calm -that he had mingled in the fierce moonlight outeries of the Jews against the Mes. Lay in its slumber on the slumbering foun.

tain ? siah-and had heard with his own ears the last prophetic annunciation of Ah! where art thou, thou that wert ever the doom which awaits the city. The Oh Javan ! Javan ! introduction of such a recital at that The Soldier. When was Javan call'd moment, shews great art in the poet, By Miriam, that Javan answer'd not ?

with me,


Forgive me all thy tears, thy agonies. Of the far sanctuary, every portico,
I dar'd not speak to thee, lest the strong joy And every court, at once, concentrated,
Should overpower thee, and thy feeble limbs As though to glorify and not destroy,
Refuse to bear thee in thy flight.

They burn, they blaze-
Mir. What's here?

Look, Miriam, how it stands !
Am I in heaven, and thou forehasted thither Look!
To welcome me? Ah, no! thy warlike garb, Miriam. There are men around us !
And the wild light, that reddens all the air,

Javan. They are friends, Those shrieksand yet this could not be Bound here to meet me,

and behold the last on earth,

Of our devoted city. Look, oh Christians ! The sad, the desolate, the sinful earth. Still the Lord's house survives man's fallen And thou could'st venture amid fire and death, dwellings, Amid thy country's ruins to protect me, And wears its ruin with a majesty Dear Javan!

Peculiar and divine. Still, stil it stands, Jav. 'Tis not now the first time, Miriam, All one wide fire, and yet no stone hath fallen. That I have held my life a worthless sacrifice

Hark-hark !
For thine. Oh ! all these later days of siege The feeble cry of an expiring nation.
I've slept in peril, and I've woke in peril.

Hark-hark !
For every meeting I've defied the cross, The awe-struck shout of the unboasting
On which the Roman, in his merciless scorn, conqueror.
Bound all the sons of Salem. Sweet, I boast

Hark-hark ! not ;

It breaks-it severs-it is on the earth. But to thank rightly our Deliverer, The smother'd fires are quench'd in their We must know all the extent of his deliver.

own ruins :

Like a huge dome, the vast and cloudy Mir. And I can only weep!

smoke Jav. Ay, thou should'st weep,

Hath cover'd all. Lost Zion's daughter.

And it is now no more, Mir. Ah! I thought not then

Nor ever shall be to the end of time, Of my dead sister, and my captive father The Temple of Jerusalem Fall down, Said they not "captive” as we pass'd ?- My brethren, on the dust, and worship here thought not

The mysteries of God's wrath. Of Zion's ruin and the Temple’s waste.

Even so shall perish, Javan, I fear that mine are tears of joy ; In its own ashes, a more glorious Temple, "Tis sinful at such times—but thou art here, Yea, God's own architecture, this vast world, And I am on thy bosom, and I cannot This fated universe the same destroyer, Be, as I ought, entirely miserable.

The same destruction Earth, Earth, Javan. My own beloved ! I dare call Earth, behold! thee mine,

And in that judgment look upon thine own! For Heaven hath given thee to me chosen

The Christian spectators then sing out, As we two are, for solitary blessing,

together the following sublime chorus, While the universal curse is, pour'a around · which, as we have hinted before, com

pletes, in the most felicitous manner, On every head, 'twere cold and barren gra. the whole of the tragic picture, by extitude

tending the interest of the catastrophe, To stifle in our hearts the holy gladness. and carrying on the mind of the readBut, oh Jerusalem! thy rescued children

er to the contemplation of the greatMay not, retir'd within their secret joy, Shut out the mournful sight of thy calami. As a specimen of composition, it is,

er catastrophe which it symbolizes. ties. Oh, beauty of earth's cities ! throned

we think, superior to any thing Mr queen

Milman ever has produced, and inOf thy milk-flowing valleys ! crown'd with deed inferior in very little to any thing glory!

we remember in the poetry either of The envy of the nations ! now no more his English or of his German contemA city-One by one thy palaces poraries. When taken together with Sink into ashes, and the uniform smoke O'er half thy circuit hath brought back the cannot fail to impress our readers with

the passages we have already quoted, it night Which the insulting flames had made give a high sense of the native power of place

this youthful poet, and to fill them To their untimely terrible day. The flames with the brightest hopes concerning That in the Temple, their last proudest con- what he may hereafter aspire and dare quest,

to execute. Now gather all their might, and furiously,

HYMN. Like revellers, hold there exulting triumph. Even thus amid thy pride and luxury, Round every pillar, over all the roof, Oh Earth! shall that last coming burst on On the wide gorgeous front, the holy depth thee,


That secret coming of the Son of Man. Yes, ’mid yon angry and destroying signs, When all the cherub-throning clouds shall O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, shine,

We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam, Irradiate with his bright advancing sign : Almighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem! When that Great Husbandman shall wave

Such is the conclusion of the Fall his fan, Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and

of Jerusalem-by far the most soaring

pomp away :

flight that Mr Milman has ever hithStill to the noontide of that nightless day, erto sustained. As a master of the Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course main- high, serene, antique flow of lyrical tain.

declamation, we are free to say, that Along the busy mart and crowded street, we consider him as far superior to any The buyer and the seller still shall meet, And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain: his past experience, by devoting him,

Jiving poet; and he should profit by Still to the pouring out the Cup of Woe; Til Earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro,

self more to the rare path in which And mountains molten by his burning feet,

nature seems to have offered him sucAnd Heaven his presence own, all red with cess so pre-eminent. With regard to furnace heat.

the drama, much as we admire Mr

Milman's genius, we cannot say that The hundred-gated Cities then,

we entertain for him any so very sanThe Towers and Temples, nam'd of men guine expectations.

He is a poet Eternal, and the Thrones of Kings; The gilded summer Palaces,

highly refined, and sometimes his conThe courtly bowers of love and ease,

ceptions are profound; but he has Where still the Bird of pleasure sings :

not as yet exhibited any proof of that Ask ye the destiny of them ?

noble reliance on the simplicity of naGo gaze on fallen Jerusalem !

tural associations, without which we Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll, cannot hope to see the slumbering 'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is spirit of the British stage bidden from unfurl'd,

its lethargy. Throughout the whole The skies are shrivell'd

like a burning scroll, of his dialogue, the language is rather And one vast common doom ensepulchres elaborately poetical, and artificially the world.

moulded, than inspired by the imme. Oh! who shall then survive ?

diate feelings and impulses of the Oh! who shall stand and live ?

passing scene. To qualify, in some When all that hath been, is no more: measure, these remarks, it should, When for the round earth hung in air, however, be held in remembrance, With all its constellations fair

that the sacredness and dignity of the In the sky's azure canopy; When for the breathing Earth, and spark. the present instance, as a species of

subject may perhaps have acted, in ling Sea, Is but a fiery deluge without shore,

more than common restraint on the Heaving along the abyss profound and dark,

flow of the poet's imagination-still A fiery deluge, and without an Ark. more of his language. With every

deduction the rigour of criticism can Lord of all power, when thou art there alone make, there still remains abundance On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne, of praise, which no one can refuse to That in its high meridian noon

this performance. The highest comNeeds not the perish'd sun nor moon : pliment to the genius of the author is When thou art there in thy presiding state, to be found, not in the admiration exWide-sceptred Monarch o'er the realm of cited by any particular passage, but in

doom : When from the sea-depths, from earth's

the deep gravity and grandeur of the darkest womb,

impression which the whole tenor of The dead of all the ages round thee wait : the poem is calculated to produce. And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn The Terror and the Pity which agiLike forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire: tate the mind throughout the earlier Faithful and True! thou still wilt save parts of the drama are subdued and thine own!

softened, in the closing scene, inThe Saints shall dwell within th' unharme to a profound repose of humility and sing fire,

Christian confidence; and he that Each white robe spotless, blooming every lays down the volume will confess,

palm. Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side, that Mr Milman has, in the first, So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic fruits of his genius, offered a noble Bride,

sacrifice at the altar to whose service Sit on the stormy gulf a halcyon bird of calm. he has devoted his life. Vol. VII.




MR NORTH, From the perusal of " the Monastery," and the gratifying annunciation of an approaching sequel, under the title of “the Abbot," I was lately induced to turn back to a collection of Catholic legends already introduced to your notice the “ Prato Fiorito di varj Esempj"--and have found it to contain (as might be expected) a great number of stories relative to the different monastic orders, calculated not more for the edification of pious believers, than for the amusement of such infidels as may chance to have enrolled themselves among the "lovers of hoar antiquity,” to whom, and to yourself, I shall make no apology for thus briefly introducing a few specimens to their notice.

a practiser also, began to devise means

to secure his allegiance, or at least to « Of the terrible chance that befell one deprive St Anthony of the glory of a

who, with evil design, took upon conquest, by cutting short the days of himself the religious habit."

the sinner before he should have lived Marianus, in his Chronicle of the to extricate himself from the toils of Minorites, relates of a certain sorry hell, in which he had hitherto remainand wicked person, whom we shall ed a willing captive. He, therefore, name Bernardin, that, after having infused into his ears a beginning fasconsumed his substance, and wasted tidiousness of the religious life to which the better years of his life in vain and he had addicted himself, and a conriotous living, immersed in sin and tempt of the instructions to which he iniquity, under the guidance of his had listened till he had almost yielded sovereign lord and master the devil, to the conviction they were calculated he was at length induced, by the sug- to produce; and, having thus infected gestions of the same terrible potentate, his mind with the desire of change, to seek admission into the order of he at last appeared before him one minor friars, for the express purpose day in the likeness of a beautiful of disturbing the peace and contami- horse, ornamented with the fairest pating the morals of that holy brother- trappings, and furnished with every hood. With this view he addressed accoutrement necessary to the equipa himself to St Anthony, who was then ment of an honourable cavalier, which, preaching at Padua, and who, having when the false novice saw, as he issued examined him touching his preten- forth from his cell to cross & meadow sions, and finding him (as he thought) that lay between it and the refectory sufficiently apt for the sacred func- of his monastery, he cast thereon an tions of the profession, received him admiring and covetous eye, accounting accordingly, and afterwards perceiving it the best and most gallant steed that him to have some knowledge of human it had ever fallen to his lot to behold. sciences, constituted him a clerk, and Accordingly, finding himself alone and took upon himself the charge of pre- unobserved, he went up to the noble paring him, by his efficacious instruc- animal and began to caress him, from tion and exhortation, to become a whence he fell to examine his harness shining light among those of the order and accoutrements, when, in a porte to which he had thus been admitted. manteau which was appended to the Bernardin, on his part, pushed his saddle, he discovered a complete suit dissimulation to the utmost extremity, of armour, with rich vestments, suited in the semblance of devout humility to a person of honour-and hard by a with which he listened to the saint's purse full of golden coin. Bernardin teaching, while he secretly plotted the marvelled greatly at the sight, and bedestruction of that religion to which gan to conjecture who might be the he appeared to be so zealous a convert; fortunate possessor of such treasure, but Satan, whose jealousy is ever ao whom he imagined, without doubt, to wake, and who began to entertain be some one among the honourable serious apprehensions lest the lessons knights of the vicinage. He did not, to which he was a daily listener might, however, stop long in thinking about in the end, prevail with him to become it, but soon threw off the religious

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