THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 EVENINGS 
 
 BY 
 
 EDEN-SIDE, 
 
 OR 
 
 ESSAYS AND POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE PEARSON. 
 
 Ev'n then a wish, (I mind its power) 
 A wish that to my latest hour 
 
 Shall strongly heave my breast ; 
 That I for my dear Country's sake 
 Some useful plan, or book could make, 
 
 Or sing a song at least 
 
 Burns' " Early dayiS 
 
 KENDAL: 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 
 
 BY M. AND R. BRANTHWAITE. 
 
 MDCCCXXXII.
 
 IXTERED AT STATIONERS HALL.
 
 "PB32e 
 
 TO 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ., 
 
 POET LAUREATE, 
 
 &C.j &c, &c, 
 THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE INSCRIBED, 
 
 AS 
 
 AN HUMBLE BUT SINCERE TRIBUTE 
 
 OF 
 
 ADMIRATION AND RESPECT, 
 
 BY HIS OBLIGED 
 
 AND OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 I 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 

 
 PREFACE. 
 
 If prefaces are in any measure regulated by 
 the magnitude of the works to which they are 
 prefixed, the present must be a very short one. 
 
 In submitting these productions to the notice 
 of the public, the Author hopes that the indul- 
 gence which is generally shown to the first at- 
 tempts of a writer, will not be withholden from 
 his : the lines which he has adopted as a motto 
 express the ruling passion of his mind, and 
 whatever may be the merits of his little volume 
 as a literary performance, he hopes it will at 
 least bear testimony of his desire to promote the 
 love of virtue, philanthropy, and patriotism. 
 
 For several years the writer has not been 
 without a hope, that at some period of his life, 
 he might be able to produce a work useful to
 
 VI. PREFACE. 
 
 the public and creditable to himself; but cir- 
 cumstances over which he had no control, have 
 compelled him prematurely, and under many- 
 disadvantages to appear before them. He trusts, 
 however, the fact of his having been an admitted 
 correspondent in sixteen or seventeen publica- 
 tions, will screen him from the charge of pre- 
 sumption, and he feels grateful — unfeignedly 
 grateful — to his friends, for a patronage far sur- 
 passing his expectations, and which enables him 
 to commit his productions to the printer, with- 
 out incurring any pecuniary risk by their pub- 
 lication. 
 
 The Author would beg to offer a remark in 
 explanation of the title he has adopted : he re- 
 sided many years in the vicinity of Appleby — 
 many of the productions are associated in his 
 mind with the sweet scenery of Eden-side — 
 many more than a\ ill be apparent to the reader, 
 he hopes, therefore, he has only indulged a nat- 
 ural and an allowable partiality, in connecting 
 his humble attempts by name with the district
 
 PREFACE. Vll. 
 
 to which he owes all his ideas of pastoral beauty 
 
 and of village life. 
 
 In conclusion, as the work is mainly of a 
 
 religious tendency, the Author hopes it will 
 
 prove useful to some of his readers — perhaps, 
 like the little Hebrew maid mentioned in the 
 Scriptures,* it may be the means of directing 
 some one to the Prophet of Israel. Oh, hap- 
 py, if it should ! — 
 
 Brou°h, Westmorland. 
 
 2 Kings, Chap. 5 — verse 2, &c.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 On Drunkenness .... 1 
 
 My Country ! ..... 2 
 
 On laying foundation stones . . 4 
 
 Reflections on Slavery .... 7 
 
 Talent versus Tact . . . . 12 
 On the blasphemous publications of Carlile, 
 
 Taylor, &c. . . . • .13 
 
 On the sanguinary nature of the criminal 
 
 laws . . . . • • lo 
 
 On the profanation of the sabbath . . 20 
 
 Periodical Publications ... 26 
 Human Applause . . . . .27 
 
 Christian Missions .... 29 
 
 And I said, what shall I do Lord ? . 30 
 
 The Lord loveth a cheerful giver . 31 
 
 Death bed repentance ... 33 
 The pocket handkerchief, or the Mother's 
 
 memento ..... 34 
 
 Obligations and duties of Citizenship . 36
 
 X. CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 The Church 39 
 
 Picture of Life «. . . . 49 
 
 Making a Fortune .... 50 
 
 On Temperance Societies . . . ibd. 
 
 Visit to a Home Missionary Station, or the 
 
 Moorland Preaching house . . 58 
 
 The Law of the Sabbath ... 69 
 
 On Duelling ..... 73 
 
 On the condition of the Poor . . 82 
 
 The Christian's looking glass . . 91 
 
 The union of Faith and Good Works . 97 
 " See with what pleasure a Christian can 
 
 die" 98 
 
 The disembodied spirit . . . .100 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 To Hope .*..... 105 
 
 Love . . . . . . .106 
 
 Mercy • . . . . . . 107 
 
 The sailor-boy's farewell, in a storm . 1 08 
 
 Elegy — written in a church yard . 109 
 
 Night (written during severe illness) . Ill 
 
 Despondency, written in May, 1825 . 112 
 
 Returning Hope, written in May, 1826 113 
 
 To a Primrose . . . . .114 
 
 Lines, on seeing a young man executed, for 
 
 Forgery . . . . . 115
 
 CONTENTS. XI. 
 
 Page. 
 Henry at Anna's Tomb . . . 11(5 
 
 Lines, -written in the Quaker's burial ground, 
 
 Terril, Westmorland . . . .118 
 Lines, written in a married Lady's Album ibd. 
 Lines, on seeing the " Colloquies " of R. 
 Sou they, Esq., embellished with plates, 
 by W. Westell . . . . 119 
 Thought, suggested by attending the funer- 
 al of a Friend 120 
 
 Farewell to Nenthead . . . ibd. 
 
 To Elizabeth 122 
 
 Lines, on the marriage of Miss Hasell, of 
 
 Dalemain, Cumberland . . . 12S 
 Childhood's Home . . . . 124> 
 
 "Go forward in thy Master's name" . 126 
 
 Sure Comfort . . <. . .127 
 
 The Retrospect, or returning home after an 
 absence of several years on account of 
 
 iU-health 128 
 
 To a dear Friend, with a ring . .132 
 The Fratricide 134
 
 ESSAYS.
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 ON DRUNKENNESS. 
 
 On, Drunkenness, thou poison of society, what 
 a hydra-headed monster art thou ! — Like the pes- 
 tilence thou walkest among the children of men, 
 and ruin follows with fatal precision in the tracks 
 of thy footsteps. — Home, sivcet home ! what dost 
 thou convert it to ? — The smile of dear and vir- 
 tuous woman — the prattle of childhood — the 
 clasping caress of artless infancy : those touch- 
 ing domestic delights, that come over the un- 
 tainted mind like the first rays of the morning, 
 form thy deadliest instruments of vengeance, 
 they fall on the hearts of thy victims like the 
 burning rain that fell on Sodom ! — Thou makest 
 the family hearth gloomy and desolate : the 
 abode of peace and cheerfulness thou turnest 
 into a house of mourning, where the poor mo- 
 ther in secret " weeps for herself, and for her 
 children." — Insatiable fiend ! virtue, happiness, 
 fame, and health are sacrificed upon thy brutal 
 
 B
 
 5S ESSAYS. 
 
 altar : the welfare cf all the heart yearns over is 
 given up for thee : the tender links that bind 
 husband to wife, parent to child, friend to 
 friend, thou burstest asunder. The lineaments 
 traced by a Divine hand after a divine pattern 
 thou blottest out, and presentest to our view in- 
 stead the hideous likeness of a beast ! — Mother 
 of crime ! what are thy rewards ? — Alas ! misery 
 and shame, beggary and disease, blasted hopes 
 and a ruined family, compose the ingredients of 
 that mortal cup which thy besotted followers 
 drink to their destruction. 
 
 MY COUNTRY! 
 
 " Willi all thy faults I love thee still," 
 
 And love Thee best ! 
 
 Who can look at England, and contemplate her 
 freedom, her lofty intellect, her boundless com- 
 merce, her philanthrophy — that seems to grasp 
 the whole human race in its arms ; and not feel 
 proud of the title of Briton ? — The majesty of 
 her name is felt and honoured in the remotest 
 regions, the first states of the world are proud 
 of her alliance, her merchants are princes, and 
 enthroned in her ides, Biitannia reigns the mis-
 
 ESS \Y = . 
 
 tvess of tlie globe. Asia, Africa, and America 
 pour their treasures into her lap, the i'ree states 
 of Europe hail her as their guiding star,- and 
 Despotism, in the midst of its legions, shrinks 
 back, and is paralysed at her frown. To what 
 is all this owing ? — To her mental superiority 
 alone : Freedom is the nurse of intellect, and 
 the Press the mighty engine of its power that 
 like the fabled machine of Archimedes lifts the 
 world. From the peer to the cottager informa- 
 tion and intellectual eminence are aspired after 
 and cherished. All classes are sensible that 
 ' Wisdom is the principal thing,' that Knowledge 
 is indeed power ; and they look for superiority 
 and influence from it alone, while to the bright 
 creations of unfettered thought, the Press gives 
 millions of wings that bear the heaven-born 
 messengers of truth and science to the ends of 
 the earth. Such are the sources of our proud 
 pre-eminence ; and every man is a true patriot 
 and a friend to his species who adds one mite to 
 useful knowledge, or gives the knowledge ac- 
 quired a wider extension. Thus all may be 
 useful in their sphere — friends to their friends — 
 and benefactors to the community. England's 
 greatness springs not from her princes or her 
 nobles, but from the congregated ability, inteL-
 
 4 ESSAYS. 
 
 ligence, and public zeal of the whole population- 
 It is the united labour of all the bees that has 
 filled the hive with honey I — But what is indus- 
 try without liberty ? — look at our Colonies — 
 behold the injured but uncomplaining Slave. 
 Genius and enterprise dwell not there. Slavery 
 is the tomb of both, it generates a feeble and an- 
 abject mind. Then let us never forget that 
 Freedom is our palladium : while to an unshackl- 
 ed press alone we must look for the preservation 
 of those liberties, and of that moral greatness,, 
 which now command the admiration, and the 
 tacit homage of all other states. 
 
 on laying- 
 FOUNDATION STONES. 
 
 T have often thought the great men of our land 
 might better convey their names down to poster- 
 ity in laying foundation stones of Churches, 
 Bridges, Jails, &c, than in inscribing them, and 
 their titles on a piece of plate :■ — for instance, in 
 laying the foundation stone of a church, would 
 not a copy of the scriptures be more appropri- 
 ate }• — Of a theatre — supposing the works of 
 Sbaksgeare or his illustrious satellites were de-
 
 ESSAYS. 5 
 
 posited ? Of a town-hall — the plan and eleva- 
 tion of it, as also the population, extent, situa- 
 tion, Sec, of that town, and so on. If these 
 could be preserved from the ravages of time, 
 would they not be a more acceptable bequest to 
 our descendants ? — Had the ancients adopted 
 this method, what inestimable treasures had been 
 preserved for the present as well as succeeding 
 generations ! Besides, I would just hint that 
 titles, which at present add lustre to wealth, and 
 command the respect of the community, may in 
 the course of revolving ages lose their dignity, 
 and be coupled with very different associations, 
 or perhaps be converted into terms of reproach 
 or ridicide. Who answers to the high and 
 mighty names of Caesar or of Pompey now,— 
 but a growling mastiff or a lady's puppy ? I 
 love my country. I exult in its past and present 
 greatness, and verily believe that Britain will in 
 times now seen in far-distant and dim perspec- 
 tive be visited by the wise and good, and if Lon- 
 don like Balbec should sink under the weight of 
 accumulated years, its ruins will be the subject 
 of intenser regrets — will touch a deeper chord of 
 the heart than those of Tadmor or even immortal 
 Athens. — The children of the rude Hottentot 
 and the savage Zealander, ascending to know-
 
 6 ESSAYS. 
 
 ledge and to greatness, may yet come to gaze 
 upon and admire a land, that first communicated 
 to them the light of truth, and the blessings of 
 civilization. Entertaining these ideas, I feel 
 anxious that the names of my countrymen should 
 float down the stream of time with a better pass- 
 port to the homage of posterity than the slender 
 the twig-like security of a title or degree which 
 may then be obsolete, discarded, or perhaps 
 entirely unknown. Even taking the most favour- 
 able supposition, how much would these dignities 
 be enhanced if they were handed down with 
 something that is valuable and useful. — Yes, un- 
 born millions might acknowledge the boon — 
 might ratify and perpetuate the honours and 
 distinctions awarded by us their great-great- 
 ereat-ffrandfathers \ — but a thousand years hence 
 Alas ! for human greatness, — His Royal Highness 
 the Duke of S • * * « • may only be looked on as 
 a Master Mason, and K. G. — G. C. B.« — D. C. L. 
 — F. R. S. and A. S. may be solved by some cun- 
 ning anticjuary, as the initials of his workmen — 
 his journeymen ! — Modern antiquaries, at least, 
 often make wider shots than this. And poor 
 Nash* when the plough-share turns up his re- 
 spected name, will only cut a poor figure in 
 " An eminent Architect.
 
 ESSAYS. 7 
 
 being recorded as the Architect of a building of 
 which neither the shape, nor size, nor even a 
 gtoue or slump remains. I merely throw out 
 these hints in the hope of directing attention to 
 a custom, which, though a very laudable one ; 
 would certainly, I think, admit of considerable 
 improvements. 
 
 REFLECTIONS 
 
 ON SLAVERY. 
 
 Much was said to prove that the missionary 
 Smith, carefully avoided instilling any feelings 
 of discontent or rebellion into the minds of the 
 negroes of Demerara ; and I think it was satis- 
 factorily shewn, that no man could have con- 
 ducted himself with greater prudence and mo- 
 deration than he did. But, I confess I cannot 
 conceive how a christian missionary can faithfully 
 discharge his duty, and vot excite feelings of 
 hostility and insurrection among the slaves. The 
 Bible itself is full of treason against slavery ; 
 reason, duty, justice, and, in fact, every hon- 
 ourable principle or feeling in the heart of man, 
 are at war with it. Slavery is founded on usurp- 
 ation and wrong ; it is the sordid and bad pas-
 
 8 ESSAYS. 
 
 sions of interested men alone that prolong its 
 existence. The simple and pure truths of revela- 
 tion aim at its very vitals. To implant good 
 principles and correct feelings in the mind of a 
 slave, what is it but to open his eyes to the 
 criminality of his master ? Religion and West 
 India slavery will never exist together. The 
 altar of the former may indeed be erected, but 
 its triumph can only be over the riven links and 
 broken scourges of the latter. If this is not ev- 
 ident, perhaps a little reflection will render it so. 
 That the system of slavery is repugnant to the 
 whole tenor of revelation, and to every dictate of 
 reason, will, I think, be allowed by every one, 
 but a slave owner ; and, of course we could not 
 expect a criminal to pronounce a verdict on his 
 own guilt. Now, we cannot but suppose that 
 our missionaries are impressed with a sense of the 
 injustice of slavery — they mingle with the slaves, 
 they hold out the right hand of fellowship to 
 them — they are their instructors, their friends, 
 their comforters. — Let us suppose a christian 
 negro has been flogged for some trifling offence, 
 or has suffered some undeserved and ign ominous 
 •chastisement from a brutal overseer ; stricken 
 and bleeding, he repairs to such a friend, un- 
 burdens his swelling bosom, and shews his lacer-
 
 ESSAYS- -Q 
 
 ated flesh ! — Oh ! that minister (if not hardened 
 by repeated scenes of suffering.) is more than a 
 man, who can repress the burst of indignation 
 that such a view must excite ; but this is only a 
 common incident, and Christian meekness and 
 forgiveness will pass it by. The missionary, in 
 such a case, is justified in exhorting his sable 
 brother to submit to the wrong, to pray for his 
 oppressor, and, by his patient conduct and de- 
 meanour, to adorn the doctrine of that Redeemer 
 who suffered a deeper agony for him. Thus far 
 the duties of a missionary are clear and definite : 
 he preaches peace and good-will, diligence, char- 
 ity, and submission — but, have these duties no 
 bounds? — Are there no limits to his submission 
 and forbearance ? The precise boundaries may 
 be difficult to fix ; but surely no man will say 
 they are of unlimited extent. Should the slave 
 be compelled to work on the sabbath-day, he 
 may submit to it, and the sin be upon the mas- 
 ter's head ; but had that slave any chance of mak- 
 ing a successful resistance, how would the case be 
 then ? — If we are to be guided by the conduct 
 of eminent and pious men in all ages of the 
 Church, I boldly assert that he ought to resist it. 
 The command " remember the sabbath-day, to 
 keep it holy," is solemn, imperative, and uncoru 
 
 c
 
 10 ESSAYS. 
 
 ditional; and would ministers of the gospel dare 
 to set it aside, or bid a slave crouch to a fellow- 
 worm in preference to that mighty Being, " who 
 taketh up the isles as a very little thing," or bids 
 his fierce tornado roll with irresistible destruction 
 through them ?- — I apprehend not. 
 
 But slavery is blackened with a deeper stain 
 than this. The slave may have his wife torn 
 from him, to satiate the brutal desires of his 
 despotic owner : and his daughter may be called 
 to the loathed embrace of the overseer, or of any 
 promiscuous visitor. Slaves, in a state of stupid 
 apathy and ignorance, may be brought, and have 
 been brought to bear this. But let Christianity 
 once cast its pure and holy effulgence over the 
 scene of these enormities, and their hour is come. 
 If thy brother repenl, forgive him seven times, 
 aye, seventy times seven ; we are commanded to 
 do it; and the genuine Christian will obey. But 
 if thy brother harden his neck, if he still triumph 
 in his oppressions and in his lusts, ought a chris- 
 tianized community of slaves to continue tamely 
 to bear this worse than Egyptian bondage, and 
 remain passive and consenting spectators of a de- 
 bauchery so hateful to heaven and so revolting to 
 man ? what would British Christians think them- 
 selves justified in doing, under such circumstan-
 
 ESSAYS. 1 1 
 
 ces ?— But I cannot forget that the white man is 
 my kinsman ; and I sincerely pray that he may 
 make a timely restitution, and that humanity 
 may yet achieve a bloodless victory. But, alas ! 
 the planter alone is obstinately blind to the signs 
 of the times, he is lost to all prudence, and turns 
 a deaf ear to the reprobation of the world. 
 
 Oh, Slavery ! thou foulest blot in the annals 
 of corrupted man — thou British Juggernaut ! 
 when shall thy impious car cease to be drawn ? 
 when shall thy involuntary victims cease to writhe 
 under thy tormenting wheels ? Oh, that the 
 slave owners would consider ! that, for their own 
 and their children's sakes, they would give back 
 to the poor negro his long-lost, but never forfeit- 
 ed rights — Rights, which, if not conceded, may 
 one day be wrenched from them by some terri- 
 ble catastrophe. The poor slave, however, does 
 not ask his freedom as a right, but as a boon. 
 Restore his privileges, admit him into the great 
 social family of Britain, and you will secure his 
 love ; he will venerate you as his benefactors ; 
 and instead of trembling, as you do now, at 
 "every convulsive effort he makes to break his 
 chain," you might repose in peace, his gratitude 
 would be the tower of your defence, and the bul- 
 wark of your safety. But why do I expostulate ?
 
 12 ESSAYS. 
 
 like the fanatics at the temple of Jerusalem, the 
 planters seem resolved to battle against heaven 
 and earth, and to cling to their devoted fabric 
 until they are swallowed in its ruins. 
 
 TALENT VERSUS TACT.* 
 
 Talent is honourable, Tact is the reverse; 
 Talent has principle, Tact means the want 
 
 of it. 
 Talent is proud, Tact has nothing to be 
 
 proud of. 
 Talent is gold, Tact is bell-metal. 
 
 Talent walks erect, Tact will either creep 
 
 or walk. 
 Talent looks at the long Tact at the present 
 
 run, chance. 
 
 Talent looksatthe right, Tact at the expedient. 
 Talent will only use fair Taetwilfuse flwymeans. 
 
 means, 
 Talent seeks only its Tact what it can catch. 
 
 due, 
 Talent confers the be- Tact gets the praise. 
 
 nefit, 
 
 " Suggested by seeing an Article in the " atlas" in which 
 Tact is represented, in every respect, as superior to Talent. 
 Tact is a word which conveys no stigma, though it is often ap- 
 plied to actions that are neither worthy nor honourable, but 
 frequently the very reverse.
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 Talent makes the di.s- Tact snaps the Pre- 
 
 covery, niium. 
 
 Talent lives for his fel- Tact lives but to jew 
 
 low men, them. 
 
 Talent dies poor and Tact rich and detested. 
 
 beloved, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 BLASPHEMOUS PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Of Carlile, Taylor, §c. 
 
 Has the law no penalties for such abominable 
 outrages upon virtue and decency as Carlile and 
 his infamous coadjutors have been guilty of? 
 There once was a time, when no appeal to its 
 powers had been necessary ; the strong reproba- 
 tion of the public mind would alone have been 
 sufficient to awe the blasphemer into silence : 
 and what conclusion must we draw from the 
 change ? Let every man put the question to his 
 own heart — happy, if it does not condemn him f 
 I am a friend to civil and religious liberty : but 
 toleration has a limit which cannot be passed : 
 if you tolerate blasphemy, why not tolerate theft ; 
 if you tolerate the instigator of crime, why not 
 tolerate the criminal also ? Oil, but no man
 
 14 ESSAYS. 
 
 ought to be punished for holding any kind of 
 opinions. Agreed. And if a man think the 
 King should be dethroned, he is not punishable 
 for it ; but if he publicly maintain it, he does 
 so at his peril : the law will silence him, and 
 rightfully. So in religious matters the law bears 
 not on opinion at all, men think as they like ; 
 nay more, they act as they like, so long as no 
 detriment to society accrues : beyond this point, 
 liberty has no existence in a community. We 
 ought not to forget that there is an immutable dis- 
 tinction between virtue and vice, as also between 
 their results. The man who mocks at God and 
 Religion, should no more be tolerated in a Chris- 
 tian state, than the traitor who plots the ruin of 
 his country, or the wretch that lusts for blood 
 and vindicates the crime of murder. If Chris- 
 tianity be the religion of the country, and of the 
 great mass of the population, is it not monstrous 
 that every abandoned miscreant should be allow- 
 ed to set its sacred institutions at nought, and 
 laugh to scorn its heavenly truths ? Philosophers, 
 in order to mark the difference between the hu- 
 man species and the brute creation, have defin- 
 ed man to be a religious animal, thereby impor- 
 ting, that, on the closest investigation, they 
 found the religious principle inherent in man, to 

 
 ESSAYS. 15 
 
 be the most unequivocal and visible line of sep- 
 aration between them. Take away religion, and 
 the superiority of man over other animals no lon- 
 ger exists. Take away religion, or, what is the 
 nearest approach towards doing so, contemplate 
 that portion of the human race who have had the 
 least sense of religion, and we shall be constrain- 
 ed to own that there are other classes of beings 
 which may be regarded with more complacency, 
 and less disjjust. Religion is the rock on which 
 society is based, and from which alone it derives 
 consistence, order, stability, and happiness. He 
 then who aims at religion, stabs at the seat of life, 
 and is rightly accounted an enemy — Do we ac- 
 count him such? Shall the noxious serpent, 
 warmed into existence by our tenderness, con- 
 tinually hiss at us with impunity, and menace 
 the safety of our children ? Alas ! Ave have been 
 criminally indifferent in punishing the injury. 
 I do not go the Anti-Christian length of recom- 
 mending an imitation of the conduct of the man 
 in the fable. I advocate neither the hatchet nor 
 the sword ; but surely the deadly reptile should 
 cither be secured or banished from the haunts of 
 men. If an invader were to appear on our shores, 
 how promptly we would combine to defend our 
 liberties, and to crush the common enemy, and
 
 ifi 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 yet, strange infatuation ! we see internal enemies 
 of a more dangerous description labouring with 
 all their might to loosen the links by which the 
 very frame-work of society is held together — to 
 root out all sense of moral obligation and religious 
 restraint, without one effort to avert the mischief; 
 jmd worse than all, the Great Being we daily 
 supplicate; He, who holds in his hands the des- 
 tinies of the universe, is openly mocked and de- 
 rided to our face, while we, so ready to resent 
 any affront offered to ourselves, hear unmoved 
 the shocking blasphemy. Followers of Mahomet 3 
 your Prophet was never so insulted, and "you 
 will rise up in judgement, at the last, to cover 
 ms with confusion. * 
 
 ON THE SANGUINARY NATURE 
 
 OF THECRIMINALLAWS. 
 
 Laws are no more than a set of regulations, 
 agreed to by a society of men, of brethren, for 
 
 * A London Puper (of 1824) stated tTiat in the shop of an 
 Infidel Bookseller (Cerlile) a print was exhibiting representing 
 the Almighty as described in the Book of Daniel, and in the 
 Revelations, and below it was written " The God of the Jews 
 iind the Christians," to be sold for one Shilling, "Christians 
 "behold your God !" A Foreign jew fired with indignation 
 at such daring impiety, broke the window, and snatching the 
 infamous print, tore it in pieces : for this outrage he was 
 fined the cost cf the window, print, &c, by a christian 
 magistrate.
 
 ESSAYS. 17 
 
 their mutual benefit and protection ; this is their 
 origin, and this is their sum. And we cannot 
 but believe that in the eyes of Him, at whose bar 
 we must stand, and by whose laws we ourselves 
 shall be judged ; they are looked upon in that 
 character and approved of only as far as they are 
 consistent with that end. Viewing the matter in 
 this simple and clear light ; i cannot think that 
 any Government is justifiable in arrogating to 
 itself the power of taking away a man's life for 
 a venal and bloodless offence — of inflicting a 
 penalty which bears no proportion to the injury 
 committed. Were the Morals of the people sur- 
 rounded by the iron spikes that encircle Property, 
 Government might plead the sacred character of 
 Religion, and the welfare of the whole body 
 depending upon its predominance, as an excuse ; 
 but even in that case Religion would point to its 
 own laws, and revolt at the offering. Life is 
 essentially the gift of the Deity, and never ought 
 to be terminated but with a trembling hand. Life 
 is one thing, and Property is another : who will 
 say one is as dear to him as the other ? If the 
 loss of Property should cause beggary, or even 
 a broken heart to the sufferer, which is putting 
 the case in the strongest manner on the side of 
 Property, still it will not warrant the punishment 
 
 D
 
 18 ESSAYS. 
 
 of death, because if it has such an effect it arises 
 either from a diseased state of mind in the 
 injured, or a diseased state of society ; and, in 
 either point of view, the nature of the offence is 
 not altered. A nervous person may be frightened 
 to death b) r a pretended ghost, or a discharge of 
 fireworks : a man may commit suicide in despair, 
 or be actually starved to death, through the loss 
 of his property, but in neither case was death 
 inflicted or intended by the criminal. There is 
 a punishment proportioned to the offence in the 
 former case ; the latter is chargeable upon the 
 community, who ought to look better after the 
 unfortunate and destitute among them. If crim- 
 inals are legally answerable for all consequences 
 that may result from a criminal act ; -where shall 
 we begin, or where shall we end ? How many 
 individuals are starved — how many hearts are 
 broken, under the sanction of the Bankruptcy, 
 Insolvency, and other legal processes which, in 
 the hands of the bad, are turned into engines of 
 destruction. — How many — through the almost 
 legal impunity of Drunkenness, Seduction, and 
 Adultery, are hurled to destitution, prostitution, 
 and death. How many — through the hard-heart- 
 edness of Parents, and the oppression of Masters, 
 are driven to desperation and ruin : — and where
 
 essays: ]«> 
 
 is their legal remedy against such delinquents ? 
 Justice hangs down her head, and weeps; but 
 has no power to interfere ! — The Sovereign of 
 the Universe may ratify the execution of the 
 murderer, the vindictive ruffian, or the brutal 
 ravisher ; but can we expect he will sanction our 
 shedding a brother's blood for an offence which 
 perhaps never abridged us of a comfort, or caus- 
 ed us a sigh ? Oh, Affluence ! what sacrifices 
 have been made for thee ; like Eden thou art 
 guarded with a flaming sword ! The links of 
 brotherhood are broken, and we commit deeds 
 against which shuddering nature cries out, for 
 thy protection. Oh ! that Mercy would again 
 descend to dwell among men ; and that Philan- 
 thropy might exult over the abandonment of such 
 unrighteous enactments. Until this is accom- 
 plished merely to sign a petition against them is 
 a burden rolled off the mind ; 'tis entering our 
 protest against Laws, that no arguments can 
 reconcile to the feelings, that conscience revolts 
 at, that policy doubts over, and experience con- 
 demns.
 
 20 ESSAYS, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 PROFANATION OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 If there is a crime in England which may be 
 properly termed national I think it is the sin of 
 Sabbath-Breaking. Every week nearly brings 
 us heart-rending details of the fatal effects of 
 Sunday excursions ; we cannot go into the fields 
 but we see the idle and the dissolute clustering 
 together in the pursuit of some unlawful exercise. 
 I do not know what idea a foreigner would form 
 of Christian England, if he took a survey of our 
 towns and villages on a sabbath-day. If he had 
 before only contemplated her in the greatness of 
 her Institutions and in the wide and magnificent 
 range of her benevolence and philanthropy, as 
 the evangelizer and glory of the earth, he must 
 surely be struck with the humiliating contrast, 
 aad be led to regard this "isle of light" as one 
 of the most singular and unaccountable anomalies 
 ia the world, and to look upon our Bible Socie- 
 ties, our Missionary Societies, our Church-build- 
 ing Societies, and our Tract Societies, as no more 
 than sunbeams glancing from a plain of ice. 
 
 Let us not value ourselves as a nation too 
 highly ; but seriously inquire what is the actual
 
 ESSAYS. 21 
 
 st;;tc of Religion amongst US ? — In what state is 
 it among the Cities, Villages, and Hamlets of 
 Britain ? Let not the splendour of our good 
 deeds, — the heavenly halo which sheds a glory 
 round us, blind us to the moral plague, which, 
 lurking beneath, is preying upon the very vitals 
 of society. Let the Christian glance over this 
 Land of Bibles on a sabbath-day and judge for 
 himself. Behold in its metropolis, profanation 
 and crime in all their hideous and diversified 
 shapes : see its vast population streaming from 
 every outlet in search of demoralising enjoy- 
 ments r look along the roads that stripe and 
 chequer the country in every direction, and be- 
 hold upon them vehicles of every sort, all, all 
 in full requisition to trample down the sabbath. 
 Glance along our coasts, and from every port 
 behold vessels of every size and name with their 
 bands of practical infidels on board : pass on 
 from town to town and from village to village : 
 visit their Churches and their Chapels also, and 
 see what proportion their united congregations 
 bear to the population that swarms around them : 
 visit the dwellings of the people, ask if family 
 altars are common among them,* and how many 
 
 * A Friend of mine belonging to a village, not thirty mile* 
 off Carlisle, informed me when he left it eighteen years ago,
 
 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 of their inhabitants are really on the Lord's 
 side ? — Sum up the account and the glory of 
 England is laid in the dust ! 
 
 Are we Christians, and while " the ways of 
 Zion do mourn because none come to the solemn 
 feasts," while we behold the fields and rivers 
 peopled and God's temple deserted, can we look 
 on with indifference, " caring for none of these 
 things ? " God forbid ! are we parents ? do we 
 wish our children well, and yet allow them their 
 Sunday jaunts, their Sunday skaitings, their Sun- 
 day parties ? — Oh yes ! Ave love them and we 
 like to see them happy ! — Alas, have you pon- 
 dered the price at which these transitory gratifi- 
 cations are often bought? — The heart of a. father 
 or a mother is seldom appealed to in vain : let 
 such for a moment picture to themselves one of 
 those catastrophes which they read almost every 
 week and perhaps without emotion — let me bring 
 the subject home to them : suppose your son joins 
 a Sunday water-party and is drowned, what 
 must be his reflections prior to the fatal plunge, 
 and yours after it? — I do believe that in the 
 moment of extreme peril, the mind has a super- 
 there were above twentv families in the place who had fam- 
 ily prayer regularly, and on revisiting it lately, he had 
 reason to believe that this excellent practice only remained in 
 one family.
 
 ESSAYS. 23 
 
 natural collectedness and power of thought. I 
 once felt this in some degree myself on such an 
 occasion, and many writers have corroborated 
 the truth of the opinion. Think then, ye parents, 
 of your devoted offspring standing on the brink 
 of death. Could you in that unutterable moment 
 be permitted to look at them — to catch the ex- 
 pression of reproach that would be conveyed by 
 their farewell look and lifted hand! — What would 
 you feel ? Ah, would not the yearning of David's 
 heart express the equally unavailing agony of 
 yours ? — " Oh, my son Absalom ! my son, my 
 son Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, 
 Oh Absalom, my son, my son ! " 
 
 But while we condemn the immorality of the 
 middling and lower classes shall those in the 
 higher walks of life — the great and noble of the 
 land pass unnoticed ? Shall the poor wretch 
 emerging from the pestilent alley or the sickly 
 and crowded tenement to seek, in forbidden 
 recreations, a taste of enjoyment, be denounced, 
 and the favoured son of affluence whose life is a 
 round of gratification, and whose days are all 
 holidays escape uncondemned ? It is a fact, or 
 the public journals for years have abounded in 
 lying details, that none have treated the sabbath 
 with greater contempt than the dignified and the
 
 24 ESSAYS. 
 
 privileged of this country : but let such remem- 
 ber that there is One above all dignities, princi- 
 palities, and powers, -who will make inquisition 
 for these things — that the absence of temptation, 
 and the powerful influence of high example will 
 then tell fatally against them, and let them also 
 not forget that rank and fortune spring out of, 
 and are dependent upon social order : or in other 
 words, the submission of a people to certain reg- 
 ulations, the observance of which is founded 
 upon, and sanctioned by the sacred authority of 
 lltat religion they so madly despise : for let reli- 
 gion once lose its hold on the minds of the 
 people, and hereditary power and pride will be 
 swept away, and mingle in the wrecks of bet- 
 ter things. 
 
 There is a serene and reverend sanctity about 
 the sabbath; a soothing tranquillity in its conse- 
 crated hours, which are admirably calculated to 
 awaken and expand the best feelings of our na- 
 ture : it is in such seasons, hallowed and set apart 
 by the Deity himself, that man enjoys a cessation 
 from business and the cares of the world, and as 
 a being destined to exist for ever, he gives scope 
 to those emotions and desires which nothing sub- 
 lunary can engage or satiate. Surely then it is 
 not too much to expect that the sabbath should
 
 ESSAYS. 25 
 
 not only be, what it really is, recognized by law, 
 but also faithfully guarded and preserved from 
 the gross and glaring profanations of which I 
 complain. We have been and are, a favoured 
 nation. Providence has exalted us very highly, 
 but let it not be forgotten that Christianity is the 
 source from whence our glory and happiness 
 spring : religion is the band which has, hitherto, 
 held the sheaf together : the decay of piety 
 among us would unloose that band which has, so 
 far, preserved us a great, prosperous, and united 
 people. May God avert such a calamity, and 
 stir us up to greater diligence and intenser zeal 
 for His service and the extension of His kingdom ! 
 In vain do we look to legislative enactments 
 for the suppression of an iniquity which every 
 where abounds : the reformation wanted must 
 begin among the families of Britain : it is in the 
 domestic circle that the evil should be considered 
 and the remedy applied. Every citizen has a 
 sacred duty to discharge to God, his family, 
 and his country ; and by every virtuous and 
 good feeling — by the revered names of Christian, 
 Parent, and Patriot, he is called upon to dis- 
 charge that duty, the performance of which., by 
 patent enrolled in heaven, will rank him among 
 the worthies of the earth. — Ten such as he 
 
 E
 
 25 ESSAYS. 
 
 would have stayed the hurricane of fire that des- 
 olated Sodom and Gomorrah — one such has saved 
 a City ! * 
 
 Should these remarks be the means of check- 
 ing the evils I have adverted to, in one single 
 family, or even individual, so much importance 
 do I attach to their suppression, that I shall think 
 I have not written — aye, that I have not lived 
 in vain. 
 
 PERIODICAL PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Nothing has, perhaps, contributed more to the 
 advancement of literature than our periodical 
 publications, which, exhibiting, as they now do, 
 the very first talent of the age in its most familiar 
 and useful forms, have had an almost miraculous 
 effect upon the present generation. It is true, 
 these publications belong to different orders, 
 classes, and parties, and that like the prismatic 
 colours, one is blue, another red, another yellow, 
 and another green ; but, let it be remembered, 
 the whole put in motion constitute Light. 
 These publications may therefore, with truth, be 
 called the ornament and glory of our country. 
 The subjects treated of, and the different methods 
 •Zoar — Genesis xix. 21.
 
 ESSAYS. 27 
 
 of treating the same subjects, are indeed various, 
 as the various tastes of men ; but from this sea 
 of conflicting tastes and opinions a more illustri- 
 ous goddess than Venus springs. Truth is 
 disclosed in all her heavenly attributes, and 
 catching her sacred influences, we learn to cast 
 down the idols of our own prejudices and super- 
 stitions, and to love and adhere to those princi- 
 ples which are immutable as herself, and best 
 calculated to promote our own and the general 
 good. 
 
 HUMAN APPLAUSE. 
 
 I thank God that I have not those intemperate 
 and irrepressible longings for literary distinction 
 that I once had. I can now form a better 
 estimate of the heavy cost, and the light and 
 precarious value of such honour. I feel there are 
 some things dearer to the heart than either pride 
 ov praise. To aspire after the approbation of 
 Him to whom, at last, we must render our ac- 
 count, instead of the applause of our fellow-men, 
 to be guided by principle and not by feeling, to 
 repress inclination, where it clashes with our 
 duty, and to give our best attention to those 
 pursuits and avocations which will best secure
 
 28 ESSAYS. 
 
 comfort, happiness, and respectability to our- 
 selves and those whom Providence has made near 
 and dear to, and left dependent upon us for the 
 attainment, or, at least, the continuance of these 
 blessings ; is, I conceive, the surest road to real 
 eminence : and the man who has that desultory 
 and vagabond turn which genius often inspires, 
 and yet has the firmness to sacrifice his ruling 
 passion, that he may square his life to these 
 loftier considerations and motives, in point of 
 genuine superiority, soars far above a Savage, 
 a Chatterton, a Dermody, or a Burns. 
 
 The Temple of Fame has mutability inscribed 
 on its walls. Half of Johnson's poets have al- 
 ready tumbled from their niches. Methinks I 
 view the luminaries of departed centuries here 
 gathered together, a bright, beautiful, and im- 
 mortal galaxy of stars, yet, on looking intently, 
 I behold them dropping one by one into oblivion, 
 and fresh orbs springing into life and light. 
 Every age almost fills this human Pantheon with 
 another race of Gods. Saturn is deposed by 
 Jupiter, and Jupiter is driven out by Saint 
 George. How vain and precarious then, even 
 when acquired, are those distinctions for which 
 men have sacrificed every earthly good, and 
 often, heaven too !
 
 ESSAYS. 29 
 
 CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 
 
 Before a field can be sown, there must be the 
 seed and the sower. The Bible Society is the 
 store from whence any quantity of the good seed 
 may be obtained — Missionary Societies furnish 
 the sowers — the field is the world. But of what 
 use is the seed while it remains locked up in the 
 barn — of what use are the sowers while they are 
 compelled to stand all the day idle ? — Thus is 
 the progress of religion, in a great measure, 
 made to depend on public feeling and on public 
 support, and by its success the public character 
 may be pretty accurately estimated, and the real 
 state of the religious public determined. Oh, 
 my country ! I do rejoice that thou hast been 
 foremost among the nations in the work of evan- 
 gelization. England " hath been a golden cup 
 in the Lord's hand," and her Missionary zeal has 
 been so far owned by Him, that the Christian 
 
 SABBATH is now a SABBATH ROUND THE WORLD ! 
 
 Already the poor Ethiop is stretching out his 
 hands to God, His sons are coming from afar, 
 and His daughters from the ends of the earth ! 
 But still, only a beautiful star twinkles here and 
 there, and there is yet a darkness that may be
 
 SO ESSAYS. 
 
 felt, enveloping the world. Some solitary spots 
 in the vast wilderness have begun to blossom ; 
 when shall it all become a fruitful field ? — Much 
 indeed remains to be done. Have I done what 
 I could — ask yourself, have you ? 
 
 AND I SAID, 
 WHAT SHALL I DO, LORD ? 
 
 No man can be a real Christian, without, at the 
 same time, being an useful one. If a man be 
 entrusted with ten talents, he must account for 
 the proper use of ten ; and if he have only one, 
 he must answer for the employment of that one. 
 Who dares assert, he can do nothing in advancing 
 the cause of religion ? — From the highest to the 
 lowest .all may be beneficially engaged. The 
 gifted man may be the messenger of God. The 
 affluent man, like the good centurion, may build 
 a temple for His people. The benevolent man, 
 of humbler circumstances and abilities, may 
 visit and relieve and pray with, the sick. The 
 poorest man may find a way to shew his love— 
 a penny tract in his hand may haply prove the 
 messenger of life to some poor soul ; and if he 
 cannot make the least pecuniary sacrifice, even
 
 ESSAYS. 31 
 
 a word spoken in his master's name to an igno- 
 rant and wicked neighbour, shall not pass un- 
 remembered or miss its reward. God is no 
 respecter of persons, He looks at the Heart, 
 that determines the character of our actions, and, 
 tried by this standard, the despised Samaritan, 
 soared above both Priest and Levite ; and the 
 two mites of a poor widow, secured her a richer 
 recompence than all the splendid offerings of the 
 great and noble could procure for them. Her 
 simple gift was more valued than them all. 
 
 THE LORD LOVETH 
 
 A CHEERFUL GIVER. 
 
 In looking over the reports of many religious 
 and benevolent institutions of unquestionable 
 utility, I have read with pain and sorrow such 
 items as follow: — a Her Grace the Duchess of 
 A., One Guinea — The Right Honourable the 
 Countess of B., Ten Shillings and Sixpence — 
 and the Honourable Mrs. C, (donation) Five 
 Shillings." Alas ! that such illustrious names 
 should be allied to such plebeian sums. If such 
 be the standard of benevolence ; — from the poor 
 mechanic and the needy peasant, what can be
 
 32 ESSAYS. 
 
 expected ? — If Ten Thousand Pounds per An- 
 num yield Ten Shillings and Sixpence, from- 
 Twenty-Five or Thirty Pounds per Annum, what 
 is the claim of benevolence ? — But this is not the 
 Christian's method of computing her demands : 
 the believing tradesman exclaims, " Of all that 
 he shall give me, I Avill surely give the tenth 
 unto Thee." The pious labourer will share his 
 last loaf with her ; and the friendless widow will 
 throw into her treasury " all that she hath ! " 
 Oh ! think of these, ye who, though placed by 
 a bountiful Providence beyond the reach of want, 
 grudge to ignorant and suffering humanity the 
 thousandth part of your superfluous mammon. 
 
 May I ask in what Bank is lodged your fa- 
 vourite and growing hoard ? — Do you want a 
 better security, or a higher rate of interest ? — 
 Has it escaped your recollection that there is a 
 Bank in heaven ready to receive your deposits, 
 and a recording angel waiting there to note down 
 the sums ? — In that Bank only can you say your 
 money is safe, and there only can you depend 
 upon its being forthcoming with rich interest, 
 when all other Banks have stopped payment, 
 and all other securities are void and annihilated. 
 But remember, life is the only time to lay up 
 treasures in that truly Saving Bank : I much
 
 ESSAYS. 33 
 
 doubt whether sums left by Will are placed to 
 the credit of the testator there. In the case of 
 an old and well-known depositor, it may possibly 
 do; but to attempt to open a new account by 
 such a method is a desperate expedient — better 
 leave the money to secure Masses for your soul I 
 
 DEATH BED REPENTANCE. 
 
 How many in the hour of sickness have appear- 
 ed to be under strong religious feelings ; so 
 much so that earth and earthly objects seem en- 
 tirely excluded, and every faculty in full stretch 
 for heaven : yet in instances where such charac- 
 ters have been raised up again, and restored to 
 health and society, how many have fallen back 
 into the sinful pleasures of a world, from which 
 they previously appeared so completely weaned. 
 Criminals have thought themselves prepared to 
 die, and yet in cases where their lives have been 
 unexpectedly spared, has their subsequent con- 
 duct proved the genuineness of their repentance ? 
 Alas, no! I remember a particular instance of 
 this, in which, prolonged existence proved the 
 sad difference between the fear of death and the 
 love of God. The Thief on the cross was a 
 peculiar instance of divine mercy — " Lord, re- 
 
 F
 
 34 ESSAYS. 
 
 member me when thou comest into thy King- 
 dom ! " — was perhaps both his Jirst and last 
 prayer, but perhaps also, it was his only opportu- 
 nity of becoming acquainted with the Redeemer. 
 Who among us can say, he never had but one 
 opportunity of knowing the Saviour ? — But far 
 be it from me, a poor erring mortal, to limit that 
 mercy, of Avhich I myself stand so much in 
 need — all I wish is, to discourage those perilous 
 delays, which reason, duty, gratitude, interest, 
 every selfish and every better feeling, alike call 
 upon us to avoid, and to guard against that false 
 peace which, even on the very brink of ruin, 
 whispers, " all is well ! " 
 
 THE POCKET HANDKERCHIEF 
 
 OR 
 
 The Mother's Memento. 
 
 "Trifles, hallowed by affection, lose their insig- 
 nificance, and we often attach a value to them 
 which we would blush to own to any but a friend. 
 I was but a boy when I left home, and on that 
 (to me) memorable morning, on which I left my 
 paternal dwelling, my Mother gave me a Pocket 
 Handkerchief, in the centre of it was the figure
 
 ESSAYS. 35 
 
 of a man, on the right side of whom was a cir- 
 cular drawing of houses, fields, trees, &c— on 
 the left there was another of the same size, on 
 which were represented the celestial regions 
 peopled with angels : — he had a hand resting on 
 each. My Mother spread out the handkerchief 
 before me, and pointing to the figure, said, 
 'My dear William, this is the way you must 
 pass through life ; keep a hand on each world, 
 and your happiness is secured in both. Your 
 Mother will probably be long mingled with the 
 clods of her native valley, before your journey 
 is over ; but, Oh ! never forget the simple les- 
 son I have now given you, and, when you are 
 stretched upon the bed of affliction, it will make 
 dying an easy task. You can then cheerfully 
 quit your hold of earth, and cling to heaven 
 with both hands ! Then will you safely pass the 
 Jordan of death, and Oh ! how happy it will 
 make your poor Mother to recognize you again 
 on the other side!'" — My friend paused here, 
 overcome by his feelings, and turned his face 
 towards the window, to hide the tear that started 
 into his eye, as he uttered the last sentence. 
 After a pause, I said, "What a blessing are 
 pious parents, and how good it is to mingle sen- 
 timents of religion with the dearest recollections
 
 36 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 of childhood ! it gives parents a double hold on 
 the affections of their children, and makes child- 
 hood's home, a hallowed mansion indeed, a man- 
 sion on which the eye of the Deity, as well as our 
 own, reposes with delight." — " Yes," replied my 
 friend, " I remember, when I was last at home, 
 I was struck, when we sat down to dinner, to see 
 my aged and venerable father, though he had 
 lost both memory and speech, mechanically lift 
 up his hands to implore a blessing on the food 1 
 and, when I went into the church yard, to see 
 my sainted Mother's grave, I observed a solitary 
 snow-drop on the higher part of the mound, ap- 
 parently springing from her breast. To me it 
 appeared as if her virtues were again bursting 
 into flower ! and I unconsciously stooped down 
 to catch their sweet influence once more — but, 
 no ; they were blossoming in a happier clime. — " 
 
 Obligations and Duties 
 OF CITIZENSHIP, 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 What constitutes a Citizen. 
 I have nothing to say about free-burgess or 
 freeholder, I use the term citizen in its widest
 
 ESSAYS. .'17 
 
 sense, and consider every man such who is one 
 of the community, no matter to what class he 
 belongs. In the main points we are all upon a 
 level : if the law does not admit " universal suf- 
 frage " in the privileges, it, at least, recognises 
 the principle in the rights of Citizenship. 
 
 Bcncjit lie derives from his Country. 
 
 1. Its laws secure his personal freedom and 
 
 safety. 
 
 2. The free and uncontrolled enjoyment of his 
 
 property. 
 
 3. They enable him to secure his inheritance, 
 
 and the profits of his talent, enterprise, or 
 industry to the use and benefit of his chil- 
 dren. 
 
 4. Those laws, also, guarantee the unrestrained 
 
 exercise of his own religion and peculiar 
 mode of worship, however strange or ex- 
 travagant these may appear to the bulk of 
 his countrymen. No one dare molest him, 
 so long as his peculiarities or extravagan- 
 cies do not abridge or restrict the freedom 
 of others. The rights and privileges of his 
 fellow-citizens are the only boundary of his. 
 
 Motives to love his Country. 
 It is the place of his birth, and the climate most
 
 38 ESSAYS. 
 
 congenial to his health. All his childish recollec- 
 tions are connected with it. In it are laid all 
 the scenes of life's eventful history. Memory's 
 dear tablet — the tablet we love best to pore over 
 —is filled with the names of its hills, and rocks, 
 and valleys, and streams ; and the thousand in- 
 cidents which took place among them. Its 
 temples, dwellings, groves, and fields, coupled 
 as they are with all the innocent and happy as- 
 sociations of early life, are objects, which the 
 heart and the eye ever linger over with affec- 
 tionate partiality and delight. Were not those 
 dwellings and those groves the almost conscious 
 witnesses of his gambols and his pastimes, his 
 ramblings and his musings, his dangers and his 
 triumphs, his joys and his sorrows, his loves and 
 his hopes ? Yes, that country is the cradle of 
 his childhood, the home of his manhood. Wife, 
 children, and friends are all there, and the ashes 
 of his fathers are in its keeping — even its 
 very graves have a home-voice, and talk to him 
 of Mother, and Brother, and Sister, and Son. 
 In a word it is his own country — he is one of the 
 family born, nourished, and reared on its ma- 
 ternal lap. " Chatham's language is his mother 
 tongue," in all other places he is an alien and 
 a foreigner, here he is neither, and has a natural
 
 ESSAYS. 39 
 
 and acknowledged right to all the benefits of 
 brotherhood and citizenship. Weigh the differ- 
 ence between Stranger and Son, and remember 
 thy country claims thee for the latter. Witness 
 the poor departing Emigrant : even the white 
 cliffs of his native land, which he never saw be- 
 fore, wring from him tears of affection and re- 
 gret ; he seems half to die as they slowly recede 
 from his view, and even they appear to watch 
 for his last look, and reluctantly to bid him fare- 
 well ! 
 
 Duties to his Country. 
 
 THE CHURCH. 
 
 To those who love the established Church for its 
 temporalities alone, who think all its beauty and 
 its worth are concentrated in the emolument it 
 yields ; to those who think orthodoxy consists in 
 hating schismatics and conventicles ; and to the 
 still more numerous class who, being of no reli- 
 gion at all, profess to be churchmen, I have 
 nothing to say. But to such as really and disin-
 
 40 ESSAYS. 
 
 terestedly love the national religion, who behold 
 their own faith embodied in its doctrines, who 
 esteem its scriptural, rational and sublime ser- 
 vices beyond all other modes of worship, and 
 are anxious for its welfare and prosperity, I sub- 
 mit the following remarks. 
 
 What is the reason, that while all sects are 
 straining to make proselytes, and to enlarge their 
 borders — while they are multiplying their means, 
 extending their boundaries, and actually grow- 
 ing with the growth, and strengthening with 
 the strength of an ascending people, the Clergy 
 alone are indifferent as to numbers or fail 
 of success ? I am afraid, the Clergy are too 
 anxious for their own interests, too little so for 
 their Master's, too heedless of public opinion, 
 too confident of the security of the establish- 
 ment ; and that, in consequence, they have 
 never availed themselves of those necessary aids 
 — never strengthened themselves with those sup- 
 porters, which form the strong and enduring 
 bulwarks of other sects. Do not the tributary 
 rivulets gushing through the wilderness of Ish- 
 mael, make his resting-place more glorious and 
 lovely than the inheritance of Isaac ? — The pious 
 dissenter sees a thousand channels open through 
 which his influence, his talent, and his liberality
 
 ESSAYS. 41 
 
 may beneficially stream to the benefit of' hi* 
 brethren, and the advancement of his sect. 
 What means have ever been adopted to bring 
 the zeal, the intelligence, and the piety of the 
 laity into successful operation? What can a 
 pious layman do? What course is open to him, 
 by which he may similarly contribute to the 
 welfare of his brethren, and the advantage of his 
 church ? Whatever may be thought of my suc- 
 ceeding observations, these, at least, are ques- 
 tions worth pausing over. 
 
 I am aware that this is a speculating and rest- 
 less generation, and that quackery abounds • ■• 
 all things, and on every side ; but did the " rush 
 grow up without mire? did the flag grow up 
 without water ? " * i venture to say, that, h > ! 
 the Clergy employed the same means of propa- 
 gating the knowledge, and extending the privu. 
 leges of Christianity, as the dissenters have, (and 
 laymen would have esteemed it an honour to 
 have been so engaged) a large portion of the 
 scattered population of England had, at this tim \ 
 been in connexion with the national church, in- 
 stead of being, what they are now, dissent?- r- 
 from it, or " aliens from the commonwealth of 
 Israel : without hope, and without God in the 
 * Job viii. 1 1. 
 G
 
 42 ESSAYS. 
 
 world ! " — What Christian body, I would ask, 
 have so large and valuable a fund of plain and 
 sterling divinity as the established Church; and 
 where could so useful and excellent a stock of 
 village sermons be found, as are to be obtained 
 from the writings of its numerous and venerable 
 divines? With one of those, and a prayer-book 
 in his hand, could not any respectable layman, 
 if he had been encouraged so to do, have had 
 service, according to the rites of the Church of 
 England, in any village, hamlet, or suburb, and 
 without expense ? Any school-room, parlour, 
 office, kitchen, or barn, could be converted into 
 a place of worship. For half-a-crown any dis- 
 senter can license them for such. I stay not to 
 answer the objection, that these places would 
 not be sacred enough for such purposes ; the 
 temple of Christianity is reared in the immortal 
 mind : but, I would ask, if services so performed 
 would not have been more agreeable to the good 
 sense and feelings of the people, and more in 
 accordance with the solemnity of religious duties, 
 than the crude, and often fanatical harangues of 
 the well-meaning, but unlettered men, who now 
 generally minister in such places, many of whom 
 have neither sufficient knowledge nor ability 
 rightly to perform such offices — offices requiring
 
 ESSAYS. 43 
 
 no ordinary share of both. Had this method 
 been adopted, sabbath schools would have mul- 
 tiplied, and the doctrines and ritual of the 
 Church of England would have been dissemin- 
 ated all over the land. But higher objects than 
 the advancement of a body of Christians would 
 have been attained : the blessings of Religion 
 would have been more generally diffused, and 
 the moral landscape would have smiled with a 
 softer freshness and a greener tinge. I stand 
 on the broad ground that there is room enough, 
 and work enough, for all classes of Christians. 
 I know that no legislative power can constitute 
 an infallible Church, but that the gold of all 
 sects composes it. Far be it from me to advocate 
 a crusade against the Methodists or any other 
 party. If such were my object, I should be a 
 stranger indeed to the spirit of the Gospel. 
 
 In the natural world, the sun is a fountain of 
 pure light ; but, when its rays are refracted by 
 the clouds, that light becomes broken into red, 
 blue, yellow, green, &c. So in the moral world 
 is the light of Christianity ; it also is broken into 
 parts ; and as it is separately viewed by different 
 parties, they have their several opinions respect- 
 ing it. — One class think that it is red, another 
 blue, another green, and so on ; it is one, and it
 
 4£ ESSAYS. 
 
 is ale. Oh, that Christians would thus charitably 
 think of each other ! And how do we know, 
 but, to the vision of superior intelligences, these 
 mists, that hang round human intellect — these 
 mental cl'ouds> that thus refract the rays of truth, 
 may present some pleasing and beautiful variety, 
 analogous to what we behold in the glorious Bow 
 that smiles among the summer clouds. 
 
 But not to digress further : is there not a so- 
 ciety for promoting Christian knowledge, a so- 
 ciety for propagating the Gospel in foreign parts, 
 a noble Missionary society, and various other 
 excellent institutions belonging to the establish- 
 ment ? Why, then, do not the Clergy put for- 
 ward the respective claims of each as they ought 
 to do ? and why are not Church congregations 
 identified with them like as other sects are, to their 
 religious societies? — Where are their annual and 
 monthly meetings, and where their lay commit- 
 tees and officers-, their auxiliary societies and vil- 
 lage associations; — their visitors, collectors, and 
 the various other subordinate but effective means 
 winch, other institutions put in motion with so 
 much advantage and success. And why are not 
 our neighbourhoods benefited with their publica- 
 tions, instead of being almost totally unvisited 
 by them. Where much is given, much is rightly
 
 ESSAYS. 45 
 
 required. My brethren, these tilings ought not 
 so to be. 
 
 No one can be more sensible than I am of the 
 general excellence of the prayers \ised in the 
 services of the Church. I also admit the pro- 
 priety and utility of recognising a Standard of 
 Scriptural devotion, both as a help to the proper 
 discharge of so important a duty, and a safe- 
 guard from those errors, with which men — and 
 even good men — are too apt to alloy true religion. 
 It must, however, be admitted, that the fixed 
 and unalterable language of formality, is not to 
 be compared with the spontaneous effusions of a 
 heart, which, animated by the living principle, 
 pours out its fullness with all the force and 
 power of inspiration. The soul that profits right- 
 ly by the authorised forms, will not long be 
 satisfied by their bare and cold repetition twice 
 a Aveek ; it will require language and society 
 suited to its own particular wants and circum- 
 stances. The genuine Christian " hungers and 
 thirsts after righteousness," he longs for " the 
 communion of saints ; " is it reasonable then to 
 suppose, that he will be content with spiritual 
 starvation and solitude ? Hence, we see the 
 necessity of a more extended religious inter- 
 course, and a greater frequency of religious
 
 46 ESSAYS. 
 
 services, than is to be found within the pale of 
 the national Church. Among the dissenters, fel- 
 lowship, class, and prayer-meetings are institu- 
 ted to afford these necessary privileges : of these, 
 the last is of the most unquestionable excellence, 
 and liable to the fewest objections. Would to 
 God that such meetings were countenanced by 
 the Clergy, and prevalent among their flocks ! 
 I know that many will turn with disdain from 
 such a sentiment as this ; but, they ought to re- 
 member, that a certain One, who prayed in the 
 garden of Gethsemane, so far from participating 
 in their feelings, " spake a parable to this end. " 
 
 These are times, when every pious English- 
 man feels he has a duty to perform to God and 
 his country. Science and information are rapidly 
 extending to all classes of the community — the 
 pride of knowledge, and the love of innovation 
 are extending also. The waters are agitated ; 
 and public opinion, like a river that has burst 
 beyond its banks, threatens to overturn all that 
 is within its reach ; — and what is beyond its 
 reach? — The most durable works of man are 
 unable to resist it : the torrent is rolling onward, 
 and its waters are now heaving and splashing 
 against a Fabric that has withstood the storms of 
 centuries — a Fabric that now trembles to its very
 
 ESSAYS. 47 
 
 foundations beneath the mighty pressure. * Let 
 the Clergy not despise the signs of the times : 
 the searching waters will also try the solidity of 
 their structure, and what is not based upon the 
 rock, the uplifted billows will batter down. 
 Account me not an enemy if I tell the truth : it 
 is no use mincing the matter : the Clergy have 
 sunk in the esteem of the middling and lower 
 classes, and that, let them remember, means the 
 great body of the people. The Tithe System, 
 that Meribah of the Church, receiving but little 
 countenance from the New Testament, pressing 
 hard on a heavy-laden people, and creating end- 
 less collisions and bitter discontent, has had a 
 withering influence on the piety of the middling 
 classes. While the unholy junction of secular 
 with sacred duties — the magisterial with the 
 clerical office, and the enforcement, by Christian 
 ministers, of laws which, unlike (heir Master's, 
 look grimly on poverty, have had a still more- 
 blighting influence on the labouring population r 
 witness the Methodist and other places of wor- 
 ship, in every direction, filled with the poor or 
 the land ! Let the Clergy also bear in mind, 
 that it is not a worthy and tolerant Church that 
 
 * Alluding to the agitation on the Reform Question during; 
 the Elections of 1831.
 
 48 ESSAYS. 
 
 is in danger ; but the unworthy among them. 
 The Ark will safely and triumphantly mount 
 above the rushing billows, and outride the storm. 
 There is no fear of this : but whether it will 
 safely bear through the deeps, all the worthy 
 and unworthy that have crowded into it, is not 
 quite so certain. 
 
 Finally, if religion be not a cunningly devis- 
 ed fable — if oiir churches are not the mere relics 
 of the superstitions of our forefathers, I conjure 
 the Clergy to arouse from their apathy, to lay 
 aside their prejudices, and to begin the work of 
 regeneration in good earnest. Let them invoke 
 to their aid, the great mass of wealth and of 
 moral power that slumbers, as if in a grave, 
 within the establishment : let them adopt the 
 policy and emulate the zeal, of the dissenters : let 
 them gird themselves with the weapons which, 
 in other hands, have told so signally against 
 them. This would have the effect of attaching 
 firmly to their interests, an immense portion of 
 the piety and good-sense of the nation. Nay, 
 when we reflect how generally and how unfeign- 
 edly, pious and zealous Clergymen are esteemed 
 • — how happy the most intelligent and influential 
 are, to be associated with them in every laudable 
 work and labour of benevolence, and what a
 
 ESSAYS. 49 
 
 general and visible influence such have, through 
 the entire neighbourhoods over which they 
 preside; we find it impossible to guess the 
 effect, or to calculate the good that might, in a 
 very short time, be produced. But, remember, 
 this is not the period for doubt and deliberation, 
 but for vigourous and decisive action. Beware, 
 lest the people that went out one by one, come 
 again in bands, to scatter and to spoil ! — Nay, 
 is not the ravager already thundering at your 
 gates ? 
 
 PICTURE OF LIFE, 
 
 (ADDRESSED TO A SISTER.) 
 
 In Youth, we seem to be climbing a hill, on 
 whose top eternal sunshine appears to rest. How 
 eagerly we pant to attain its summit ; and when 
 we have gained it, how evanescent is the splen- 
 dour, and how altered the prospect ! — We sigh, 
 as we contemplate the dreary waste before us, 
 and look back, with a wistful eye, upon the 
 flowery path we have passed, but may never 
 more retrace. Oh, Mary ! life is like yon por- 
 tentous cloud, fraught with thunder, storm, aad 
 rain ; but Religion, like those streaming rays of 
 
 H
 
 50 ESSAVS. 
 
 sunshine, will clothe it with light, as with a gar. 
 ment, and fringe its shadowy skirts with gold. 
 
 MAKING A FORTUNE. 
 
 To make a Fortune, is what all are hoping either 
 for themselves or for their children. This inor- 
 dinate longing for riches would abate, if people 
 only considered, how few succeed in acquiring 
 them ; of these again, how few have succeeded 
 by means that can be approved ; and of these few 
 of the Jew, how small a portion have the oppor- 
 tunity, the health, or the disposition to enjoy 
 what they have so painfully acquired. 
 
 ON TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES. 
 
 No one will attempt to deny that Temperance is 
 a virtue, and one of the cardinal points of moral- 
 ity — it is, in fact, the ground-work on which all 
 the other virtues are reared. I have no idea of 
 religion or morality, of which Temperance does 
 not form a part. This much, it is necessary to 
 premise, lest any should confound one thing 
 with another, and imagine me 710 friend to Tem- 
 perance, because I am not an advocate for Tem- 
 perance Societies.
 
 ESSAYS. - r 'l 
 
 My first objection to Temperance Societies is, 
 that the persons likely to become members of 
 them, in the first instance, and to remain so, are 
 not such as are calculated to recommend the 
 practice of Temperance by example, or to bring 
 any good influence into operation in its behalf. 
 
 These persons I will divide into two classes : 
 
 First — the society will rank among its sup- 
 porters, all those who have a constitutional inabil- 
 ity to the use of, or a constitutional antipathy to 
 spirituous liquors. 
 
 The second class is a more numerous one, and 
 comprehends the avaricious, the sullen, the un- 
 social, the cold hearted, the selfish, the forbid- 
 ding, and, in short, all those whose besetment 
 does not lie in that particular direction. 
 
 And here, I may just remark, as an evil aris- 
 ing from this, that these characters, by joining 
 Temperance Societies, will give themselves credit 
 for a virtue which, in them, is no virtue at all, for 
 we are all too apt to think better of ourselves 
 than we ought to think. 
 
 That these kind of characters will support 
 Temperance Societies, and remain their most 
 steady members, those who are at all conversant 
 with men and manners, will at once admit : I 
 offer the idea as the result of my own observa-
 
 52 ESSAYS. 
 
 tion, and of all the inquiries I hare been able 
 to make on the subject. 
 
 Now, let us see, who are the individuals most 
 prone to the vice of drunkenness. Are they not 
 the mild, the generous, the agreeable, the intel- 
 ligent, the " easy to be entreated," and the social ? 
 Let those, whose hatred of drunkenness does not 
 blind their judgement, say, if the drunkards 
 they have known, have not, at one time, posses- 
 ed some of these qualities or weaknesses, in a 
 more than ordinary degree. — burns, for whose 
 memory, as a man, I bear little veneration, and 
 whose connexion with the dissipated, brought 
 him low and stained his name, bears testimony 
 to the truth of what I advance, by saying, that, 
 among those outcasts, whom the world calls 
 " blackguards," he found more warmth of heart, 
 more kindly feeling, and more sincerity than in 
 any of the other grades of society. 
 
 The chief object of Temperance Societies be- 
 ing to discourage drunkenness, by example, I 
 would ask, if the parties, I have supposed the 
 foremost and most enduring friends of Tempe- 
 rance Societies, are likely to act beneficially on 
 such materials, as what, generally speaking, 
 drunkards are composed of ? — No ! the very re- 
 verse — there are some characters, and very sober
 
 ESSAYS. 53 
 
 ones too, with whom I rejoice that I hold no 
 feeling in common, and whose example would 
 have no other effect upon me, than to make me 
 examine, with more than common suspicion, any 
 thing that had their sanction and recommenda- 
 tion, and, I have no doubt, but some of the mem- 
 bers of Temperance Societies, will excite similar 
 feelings and similar repugnance in the persons 
 they come forward to reform, by example. 
 
 But, some may say, that Temperance Societies 
 will soon become general, and then my objection 
 will fall to the ground, as they will then com- 
 prise large bodies of worthy and unexceptionable 
 individuals. I doubt whether Temperance So- 
 cieties will ever become very general in this 
 country, and I should still question their utility 
 if they did. I doubt whether they will become 
 general in this country, because of their partial 
 character ; they do not attack intemperance gener- 
 ally, but only one branch of it, and even that 
 branch, only in some classes. Temperance So- 
 cieties have a blind side, they endeavour to strike 
 away the poor man's luxury or indulgence, and 
 leave those of the rich untouched ; how incon- 
 sistent is this ! the poor man has but Jew indul- 
 gences, the rich man many ; perhaps the luxury 
 of the poor man is prejudicial to his health, have
 
 54 ESSAYS. 
 
 you any thing to offer him in the place of that 
 you would take away ? Do you ask the rich 
 to make up the lack from their wine cellars? 
 ■ — Oh, no ! the gentry would never patronise 
 us, if we were to make such a rude proposi- 
 tion. — Most accomodating renovators ! you are 
 not likely to endure much persecution on ac- 
 count of your principles, they are too silky and 
 limber for that, but conscience disowns them, 
 and a wiser than any of you has taught us a 
 different lesson ; shall I repeat his words ? — " It 
 is not for kings to drink wine, nor for princes 
 strong drink. Lest they drink and forget the 
 law, and pervert the judgement of any of the 
 afflicted. Give strong drink unto him that is 
 ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of 
 heavy hearts. Let him drink and forget his pov- 
 erty, and remember his misery no more." Here 
 we see opposite principles to those of Temperance 
 Societies, inculcated, and their superior excel- 
 lence strikes us, independent of the force and 
 authority of Scripture. The poor, afflicted, and 
 miserable have the Jirst claim to consolation and 
 indulgence : to the rich and the healthy, wine 
 and strong drink are seldom a blessing, but of- 
 ten a snare, from which they do well to abstain. 
 I consider, therefore, that I am justified in sup-
 
 ESSAYS. 55 
 
 posing, that Temperance Societies will not be- 
 come general, because, the principles laid down 
 and acted upon by them, are defective, and 
 equally at variance with Scripture, reason, and 
 benevolence. 
 
 But, should these Societies become general, 
 my objections to them, even in that case, would 
 not be diminished, because they would become 
 an engine of tyranny — they would call a new 
 Test Act into existence, and abridge the liberty 
 of conscience. — No servant, after the general 
 diffusion of Temperance Societies, would be 
 able to obtain a comfortable or desirable sit- 
 uation, without producing a certificate of mem- 
 bership from a Temperance Society, and Virtue 
 turns away with pity or disgust from a forced 
 or interested homage. 
 
 Temperance Societies, as in America, would 
 also become the test of admission to religious 
 societies, thereby fettering the mind, which I 
 would leave as free as it emanated from God ; 
 and, so long as unstained with crime, account- 
 able to him only. 
 
 I lately asked a person, connected with a 
 Temperance Society in the neighbourhood, what 
 kind of persons had joined their ranks, he re- 
 plied, most respectable persons, but he was per- 
 sonally acquainted with none of them but the
 
 56 ESSAYS. 
 
 principal promoter of the Society, and that per- 
 son, he knew, could not use spirits at all, because 
 they always made him ill ; I mention this, as it 
 corroborates what I have said, about the kind of 
 persons who are generally the Jirst fruits of 
 Temperance Societies, and also to remark, that, 
 I do not wonder that most respectable persons 
 patronize the Society : where wine is to be had 
 in abundance, the absence of spirits is a light 
 privation, and individuals, who have no love for 
 virtue or temperance, are sharp sighted enough 
 to see, that in encouraging these Societies among 
 their servants and dependents, they are making 
 their property more secure : but Virtue has sel- 
 dom derived much benefit from such dubious dis- 
 ciples, and often, a great deal of harm. 
 
 There is, unfortunately, too much of caste 
 in our society already. Temperance Societies 
 would increase the evil, by drawing a fresh line 
 of separation between different classes of the 
 community. The lines are too strongly marked 
 already ; nay, I might almost say, that between 
 the highest and the lowest classes of this coun- 
 try, the barrier is, already, as impassable as 
 that which separated the rich man from Lazarus, 
 and the communication is even less in one case 
 than the other.
 
 ESSATS. 57 
 
 One of the most prevailing errors of the 
 present times is, that people are so full of the 
 idea of, and so occupied with schemes for, re- 
 forming the community by wholesale, that they 
 have no time to think about reforming themselves 
 or their families. Modern philanthropy and re- 
 ligion fill the mind with such gigantic ideas and 
 hopes of what they will do, and are doing on the 
 grayid scale, that we cannot stoop so low, or com- 
 press our energies into such a narrow compass, 
 as to bear on the little common place circles, in 
 which we ourselves move; and individual and 
 family amendment are lost sight of in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 This is one of the evils of the present day ; 
 every body almost wants to be at the head of a 
 society : good people now, like hounds, run in 
 packs, and bashful-faced Charity, that used to 
 slide by stealth into the dwellings where her 
 presence was needed, now appears, upon all oc- 
 casions, with a suite like a Queen. T sometimes 
 stand and gaze — and am afraid it is not her. — 
 I am quite sure, if all the worthy and the good 
 who join Temperance Societies, would use their 
 influence as individuals, and their discretion as in- 
 dividuals, in promoting temperance by worthy 
 and fair means, they would serve Cod and their 
 
 i
 
 58 ESSAYS. 
 
 Country, better than by joining any clubs for such. 
 a purpose, however inviting their name, or gene- 
 ral their adoption. 
 
 Upon the whole — considering the partial and 
 defective character of Temperance Societies, the 
 kind of individuals they have a tendency to 
 draw together, the little or the bad influence 
 such individuals are likely to possess, considering, 
 also, the invidious distinctions they are likely to 
 create in the community, and their tendency, if 
 generally adopted, to infringe upon the rights of 
 conscience and of liberty, I cannot refrain from 
 entering my protest against them. 
 
 Visit to a Home Missionary Station, 
 on THE 
 
 MOORLAND PREACHING-HOUSE. 
 
 ( Addressed to the Home Missionary Society. J 
 
 "But the sound of the Church-going bell 
 These valleys and rocks never heard, 
 
 Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell, 
 Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd."
 
 ESSAYS. 59 
 
 The station visited is Bleak-House, in Luneclale:* 
 it is situated in a rude valley, at the northern 
 extremity of Yorkshire, surrounded on every 
 mie by immense mountains, whose far and pre- 
 cipitous heights form a wild and appropriate 
 harrier to its dreary solitudes. The motto 1 
 have chosen is verified to the letter in this valley. 
 There is neither Church nor Chapel within seven 
 miles of it; and, until visited by your Mission- 
 ary, it might be truly said of its inhabitants, 
 that Sunday was " No sabbath-day to them." 
 
 The bold and solemn grandeur of the scenery, 
 in this remote district, might awaken in the in- 
 habitants the most sublime and exalted feelings, 
 had their minds been enlightened and expanded 
 by divine truth : but, alas ! ignorant and untutor- 
 ed, the kindling and unutterable thought might 
 thrill through their hearts, but, like a meteor in 
 the night, it only flashed for a moment, and then 
 disappeared — no one was there to catch the pas- 
 sing enthusiasm, and to point it up to heaven — 
 no one was there to suggest one thought of Him, 
 " who weighs the mountains in scales, and the 
 hills in a balance," or to tell them, that He, who 
 formed these immeasurable pyramids, has no 
 
 • Ivune, a stream that runs into the Tees, about ten miles 
 above Barnard Castle, Durham.
 
 60 ESSAYS. 
 
 dearer residence than the heart of the humble, 
 and no sweeter sacrifice, than their homage and 
 their love. These sacred truths, you, by His 
 blessing, have subsequently published. Your 
 Missionary has smitten the rock, and the waters 
 have flowed in upon them. Doddridge, Watts, 
 Kervey, and Richmond have found readers 
 there ; and I have been delighted to observe the 
 Bible, with its humble attendants, " The Dairy- 
 man's Daughter," " The Negro Servant," and 
 " Sabbath Occupations " lying in the window 
 even of its rustic ale-house, and have heard the 
 aged and infirm landlord himself express his 
 gratification, that now they could hear the Gospel. 
 But, to give a short account of my visit — on a 
 fine summer afternoon, in the month of July 
 last, I left Middleton, in the company of a 
 friend, who was going to supply the place of 
 your Missionary for that night. We slowly, and 
 on foot, ascended the mountains that separate 
 Teesdale from Lune — the road, a very twisted 
 and zig-zag one, wound its way by mount and 
 hollow, rocks and pools ; I was amazed to see 
 so many deep gills or ravines in the mountain 
 side, which appeared from Middleton to be uni- 
 formly smooth and regular in its ascent. We 
 pursued our way, however, sometimes scram-
 
 ESSAYS. 6l 
 
 bling over its bold elevations, and at others 
 plunging' into its deep and hidden recesses, until 
 we reached the fell-top, where we made a breath- 
 less pause. — I will endeavour to describe the 
 landscape, for an extended prospect opened to 
 our view. To the right, the romantic and 
 varied scenery of Teesdale lay stretched out be- 
 fore us : the Tees, seen at various points, had a 
 curious and picturesque appearance — at one 
 place it made a bold curve — at another, a right 
 angle — then was lost in a chasm — then sprang 
 over a precipice — and then, as if tired of gam- 
 boling, swept proudly on in a right line. The 
 scenery was congenial to the stream : here, a 
 terrific line of basaltic precipices carried the eye 
 to the black and boundless wilds that stretched 
 beyond — there, smiling woods, villages, white- 
 washed hamlets, with the fugitive rivulets that 
 were coming in from the opposite mountains, 
 mingled beautifully with each other, and formed 
 a scene that, to a poet's eye, might have been 
 fraught with inspiration. How different was 
 the view on our left — nothing but a far extended 
 waste of heath was to be seen, bounded by a 
 chaos of lowering and tremendous clouds, whose 
 alpine ridges, catching the sun-beams at partial 
 openings, produced a mimic representation of
 
 G2 ESSAYS. 
 
 mountain scenery, in all its fantastic and dismay- 
 ing forms. " What hill is that with the round 
 top — do we go past it ? " I inquired of my 
 friend. " I hope not/' he replied ; " that hill is 
 fifteen or sixteen miles off; it is on Stainmore." 
 " Where is the preaching-house then ? " " Do 
 you see yon green hill by the water side, with 
 the hay stack beside it ? — it is there." " There ! " 
 I exclaimed, "there is no house there, nor any 
 near it that I can see." " Only one," he repli- 
 ed, " it stands by the edge of the stream. " 
 " Well, then," I rejoined, " we shall soon be at 
 it — it cannot be above a mile off. " " You will 
 find it nearly four, I promise you." " Impossi- 
 ble ! " — My companion Avas right : I was com- 
 pletely deceived by its apparent nearness : it 
 looked as far off as ever half-an-hour after. We 
 reached it, however, about six o'clock, just as 
 the people were assembling — yes, the people. I 
 could not imagine where they all came from, 
 unless they arose out of the ground ; but I 
 learned afterwards, that the dale was much more 
 populous than I had any conception of; most of 
 the farm houses and miners' cottages being built 
 in the sheltered hollows by the Avater side, and 
 not visible at any distance, from the numerous 
 intervening hills. The preaching-house is a long
 
 ESSAYS. 63 
 
 thatched building, consisting of two rooms on 
 the ground floor, in ;i line with each other ; the 
 first and largest is the kitchen ; the further part 
 answers the double purpose of parlour and bed- 
 room. The windows are extremely low, and 
 the bank on the opposite side, rising very abrupt- 
 ly to a considerable height, gives the house a 
 dark and gloomy appearance. The accomodations 
 were of the most humble order : a large copper- 
 kettle, hanging above the preacher's head, was 
 his only sounding board, and a chair, with it* 
 back turned towards him, his pulpit: all the 
 other chairs, benches, and stools in the house were 
 arranged for the hearers, and a ladder set upon 
 trestles supplied ten or a dozen of them with 
 seats. Yet, rude as these accomodations were, 
 there was one part of the arrangement, which 
 might have taught a more polished congregation 
 a charming, perhaps, necessary lesson: — the long- 
 settle, and the chairs by the fire-side were re- 
 served for the old people and those females who 
 had young children in their arms. Whether the 
 warmth of the fire had a kindly influence in pre- 
 venting the coughing of the former, and the 
 crying of the latter, I cannot pretend to deter- 
 mine ; I can only say, they were as hushed and 
 mute as any of the little assembly. The congre-
 
 64 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 gation consisted of about seventy people, for 
 both kitchen and parlour were crowded, and 
 comprised every age, from infancy to grey-hairs. 
 As I have already hinted, some venerable old 
 men occupied the long-settle. To me, they ap- 
 peared the solitary remnants of a former gene- 
 ration — pieces of wreck left on shore by the 
 storms of former years — survivors of the tem- 
 pests, in whose billows our fathers found their 
 graves ! — Every thing about them spoke of the 
 •past ; — I looked at their faces — they told the tale 
 of other years. Their single-breasted coats with 
 huge flat buttons, exhibited fashions which had 
 long been obsolete. Their trembling knees, fee- 
 bly knocking against each other, proclaimed that 
 they had nearly reached the mouth of the stream, 
 and the roar of the ocean was sounding in their 
 ears ! — Occasionally, indeed, they looked at the 
 people ; but it was only a slight and careless 
 glance — they seemed to hold no fellowship with 
 the beings that surrounded them — feeling seemed 
 to be dried up at its source : their sympathies 
 and attachments, doubtless, centered in another 
 place — another assembly, which they seemed 
 nearly ready to join. Opposite to these, sat two 
 young married women ; each of them had an 
 infant in her arms ; one of them had also a little
 
 ESSAYS. 65 
 
 girlj about three years of age, standing beside 
 her, which, towards the close of the sermon, she 
 had some difficulty in keeping in order. As I 
 sat very near, I could not but observe, the many 
 little artifices the mother tried, to keep the child 
 quiet: she patted, coaxed, hushed, and threat- 
 ened her, by turns, yet all this was done so 
 mutely, as to pass nearly unobserved : at last, 
 she took a handkerchief out of her pocket, and 
 doubling it, and pinning it in the shape of a doll, 
 gave it to the little girl : this expedient succeed- 
 ed — she met with no further interruption. I 
 hope my readers will pardon me mentioning this 
 trivial circumstance. The yearnings of the hu- 
 man heart are strong and irrepressible — I have 
 two children about the same age, motherless, and 
 far from me, and this little trait of domestic life, 
 brought them back to my remembrance. My 
 heart, for a few moments, melted over these 
 touching connexions, and bled afresh over recent 
 bereavements. There is no stoicism in Christi- 
 anity. Children were the special objects of the 
 Saviour's love ; and He, himself, has wept over 
 the grave of a friend. I cannot refrain from 
 particularising a young woman, about nineteen ; 
 she seemed much impressed with the service, 
 and, more especially, with my companion's clos- 
 
 K
 
 66 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 ing prayer. I observed seme tears glistening in 
 her eyes -when she rose from her knees. From 
 inquiries which I made, I found she had been 
 blessed with a pious mother : the scene before 
 her, probably recalled the days of her childhood. 
 Seldom have I known a person religiously 
 brought up, but there was always some chord of 
 the heart, some dormant sensibilities, that thrill- 
 ed intensely when these hallowed remembrances 
 were awakened. I recollect once seeing a very 
 dissipated man, turn suddenly aside from his 
 revelling companions, to conceal his emotion : a 
 profane jest about praying, had reminded him 
 of home, and looking wistfully at me, he said, 
 " My good parents little thought I should ever 
 mingle in a scene like this ! " To prevent fur- 
 ther digression, I will pass over the rest of the 
 congregation. My friend's sermon, from these 
 words, " For the Lord shall comfort Zion : he 
 will comfort all her waste places ; and he will 
 make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert 
 like the garden of the Lord," (Isaiah, li. 3.) 
 was listened to with earnest and deep attention ; 
 and I hope and believe, that his appropriate and 
 affectionate address, made a strong impression 
 on the minds of his rustic hearers. Nothing 
 could be more gratifying, than the reception he ;
 
 ESSAYS. fi7 
 
 met with, at the close of the meeting : many 
 shook him cordially by the hand, and thanked 
 him for coming so far to preach to them ; and 
 others, who only wished him " Good day," did 
 it in that kind, warm-hearted manner, which 
 seemed to acknowledge a benefit, and to solicit 
 a better acquaintance. The good people of the 
 house also, Martha-like, hasted to make the par- 
 lour ready for our reception. Whilst taking a 
 little refreshment, I took the opportunity, of 
 asking the master of the house, where all the 
 people came from, and expressed my astonish- 
 ment at their number. As his reply was rather 
 characteristic, I will give it : " Many of them 
 come a gay bit off, from the dales farther ower, 
 some from the houses along the fell-edges, by 
 the limestone quarries, and a canny few from 
 the onsteads (houses) by the beck-meetings, a 
 mile further up. It's not much preaching one 
 has a chance on here, and folk are fain to come 
 when they can get it so near them ! " — What a 
 reflection does this convey, to many professors 
 in more populous places, who fall as far beneath 
 these poor mountaineers, in practice, as they 
 are raised above them in privileges. To priva- 
 tion, alone, are we often indebted for our keen- 
 est sense of enjoyment. It is only the traveller,
 
 68 ESSAYS. 
 
 who has crossed the parched and sultry desert, 
 "where no water is/' that can appreciate the 
 value of the gushing and abundant spring. 
 After spending a short time with our friendly 
 host, we set out on our return : a considerable 
 quantity of rain had fallen during our stay, and 
 the sun was sinking amidst the broken clouds ; 
 a hundred newly-formed rivulets, glittering in 
 his beams, crossed the dark heath with lines of 
 light ; the beautiful Iris, heaven's own messen- 
 ger of peace and good-will to man, stretched its 
 bold arch from fell to fell ; amidst the jutting 
 crags, the fleecy mists floated in fantastic and 
 ever- varying shapes ; the mountain tops, tow- 
 ering above the shadowy chaos, revelled in the 
 sun's unclouded brightness, while in the dis- 
 tance, the lofty ridges of the Westmorland hills, 
 were seen emerging, like a new creation, from 
 the western sky — but it is impossible to convey 
 even a faint idea of the scene. After gazing on 
 it for some time, I turned to have a parting look 
 at the preaching-house, ere the adjoining hills 
 should shut it in. How shall I describe what I 
 felt ? — the rainbow had altered its position, and 
 stood directly over the little church of the valley, 
 the extremity of the magnificent arch, almost 
 touching its humble roof. How beautiful are
 
 ESSAYS. ()() 
 
 heavenly objects, blending with heavenly reve- 
 lations ! — That night I shall never forget ; my 
 friend's text was literally verified in it : - the 
 f( wilderness" before us, was indeed " like Eden," 
 and that " desert " smiled " like the garden of the 
 Lord ! "— 
 
 THE LAW OF THE SABBATH. 
 
 I am aware, that there is one sect of Christians, 
 who do not regard the special observance of one 
 day in seven, in the same light as the great body 
 of their brethren ; but, it is to be remembered, 
 that this opinion is at variance with their prac- 
 tice ; they act on the safe side of the question. 
 Fully admitting, that the Ceremonial Law was 
 abrogated by the Gospel Dispensation, the Moral 
 Law stood unrepealed, and the new Testament, 
 not only ratifies, but magnifies it, and makes it 
 more honourable, by applying it to the fountains 
 of action — to the thoughts and feelings, as well 
 as to the conduct of men. No Christian asserts, 
 that the worship of false gods and of graven 
 images, profane swearing, disobedience to pa- 
 rents, murder, adultery, theft, perjury, and 
 covetousness, are not as pointedly denounced in 
 the new Testament, as in the old : and it is
 
 70 ESSAYS. 
 
 worthy of observation, that the law of the sab- 
 bath, neither comes before nor after these, but 
 stands in the very middle of them : and, as if 
 still farther to point it out, for a standing and 
 perpetual decree, it is announced in the most 
 solemn and emphatic manner that language can 
 address to the mind, and comes enjoined and 
 recommended by the example of the Deity him- 
 self. Those who are in the habit of pondering 
 over the sacred volume, must have observed, 
 how frequently the sabbath is referred to, as 
 being the most remarkable and distinguishing 
 " sign," by which God is known to his people, 
 and that the most severe judgements are threat- 
 ened against the despisers of it. To quote pas- 
 sages in proof of this, is needless, they are so 
 numerous and well known : but, there is one 
 striking fact connected with these denunciations, 
 — the shadowy hand points at it in the Scrip- 
 tures, and history and observation confirm it : 
 it is, that, whether a nation will or no, the land 
 shall enjoy its sabbaths ; if not at stated periods, 
 by centuries of rest — in desolation and silence ! 
 Mark the import of these striking words, " As 
 long as it lielk desolate, it shall rest ; because it 
 did not rest in your saebaths, when ye dwelt 
 upon it." (Leviticus xxvi. 35.)
 
 ESSAYS. 71 
 
 Neglect of the sabbath, is the first and most 
 palpable indication of departure from God, both 
 in individuals and communities : that saving bar- 
 rier removed, Religion is "like a city broken 
 down, and without walls," (Proverbs xxv. 28.) 
 and Iniquity, having no obstruction to check its 
 progress, rushes in at every avenue, and inun- 
 dates the mind. The bustle and business of the 
 world, stifle the feelings and harden the heart ; 
 and where no breathing time is allowed, to re- 
 cover from its benumbing effects — no day set 
 apart, in which the intellectual powers, resting 
 awhile from meaner pursuits, may exercise their 
 higher functions, they will soon become debased. 
 With eyes always on the ground, the soul be- 
 comes insensible of its origin and for what it is 
 designed, turns callous to every good feeling — 
 grovelling, earthly, sensual, devilish ! Sabbaths 
 are celestial beacons — the harbour lights of 
 heaven : if they are extinguished, no wonder 
 we miss our way, and founder in the deeps. In 
 a national point of view, the result is the same : 
 neglect of the sabbath, fills the rivers, roads, 
 streets, and taverns, with bustle, riot, confusion, 
 and madness ; the whole land is in a state of fe- 
 verish disquietude, and pantingly asks, when 
 its sabbaths will come ?—
 
 72 ESSAYS. 
 
 Clouds and darkness are often around the dis- 
 pensations of the Almighty, or, rather, seeing 
 but a small part of his vast operations, we are 
 seldom able to unite Cause and Effect on the 
 grand scale ; and, being bounded both in capac- 
 ity and existence, we, at best, catch but a tran- 
 sitory glimpse of the Divine Mind, and the 
 perfection of His arrangements, in the changes 
 of society. Unassisted reason gropes in the dark 
 here ; but Revelation, and the auxiliary lights 
 of human knowledge, shining with it, like stars 
 around the moon, dispel the darkness of the 
 mind, and discover sufficient to demonstrate, 
 that the revolutions of earthly states, have been 
 as necessary, and as beneficial to the welfare of 
 the world, as the revolutions of the heavenly 
 bodies. Both have answered to the same unerring 
 direction — both have had their wax and their 
 wane — their transits and eclipses too ; not by a 
 blind and fatal necessity, but in obedience to 
 the purposes of Him, who, with a parent's care, 
 disposes all for wise and beneficent ends. 
 
 No divinely-commissioned prophet appears 
 among the nations now, to warn them of impen- 
 ding judgements ; but the sad and certain con- 
 sequences of national apostacy, stand inscribed 
 in eraseless characters, on the sacred page : he
 
 ESSAYS. 73 
 
 that runs, may read ; and, on the ruins of deso- 
 lated cities, and amidst the wrecks of once flour- 
 ishing states, we behold the fearful attestations 
 of the divine veracity : if we will not regard 
 these, " neither would we be persuaded, though 
 one rose from the dead." 
 
 ON DUELLI N G. 
 
 That Duelling ought to be held in detestation 
 by society — no man who bears the Christian 
 name, will attempt to dispute : " Thou shalt do 
 no murder," is the command of a divine Law- 
 giver, delivered to man, with all the tokens and 
 the awful sanctions of Omnipotence. " Ye have 
 heard that it hath been said, thou shalt love thy 
 friend and hate thine enemy, but, I say unto 
 you, love your enemies, do good to them that 
 despitefully use you, and say all manner of evil 
 of you," was the equally binding precept of him, 
 in whom dwelt the fulness of the "Godhead, 
 bodily ; and who, himself, set the example, how 
 so hard a requirement might be acted upon. I 
 know, it will be objected, that it is impossible to 
 act upon this and similar injunctions, if taken in 
 their fullest sense, and that Christians themselves 
 
 L
 
 74 ESSAYS. 
 
 do not attempt to do so. Waving the extent to 
 ■which these passages ought to be insisted on, I 
 am warranted in assuming, that there is enough 
 in the spirit of these commands, to satisfy every 
 candid mind, that Duelling is abhorrent to God, 
 and altogether opposed to the plainest dictates, 
 both of the old Testament and the new. I can- 
 not, however, refrain from remarking, that Chris- 
 tians, in general, do not push the principle to 
 the extent they ought to do. The society of 
 Friends, to their immortal honour, have gone 
 the farthest ; but we all fall short of the mark. 
 The heavenly principle is not defective in itself, 
 but bears the stigma, and is covered with the 
 shame, that properly belongs to those, who pro- 
 fess to be influenced by it, and are not. The 
 general evasion of the precepts of peace andybr- 
 givene.ts among Christians, as a body, is the cause 
 of Duelling existing at all, in this country. Had 
 Christian principle, and justice, irrespective of 
 persons, guided the Counsellors and Senators of 
 Him, who is called " Defender of the Faith," 
 this kind of murder had long since been denuded 
 of its respectability. Had a few of the skeletons 
 of our fighting nobility and gentry, scowled 
 from the niches of Surgeons' Hall, in company 
 with other murderers, I have no doubt, Duelling
 
 ESSAYS. 75 
 
 would have gone out of fashion, the gentry 
 Mould have stumbled upon some other method of 
 redressing their insults and wrongs — aye, they 
 would rather have let them pass unrevenged, as 
 run the hazard of so ungenteel — so vulgar an 
 exit. But, how stands the fact ? Duelling is 
 practised and may be practised in this country, 
 by the higher orders, with impunity ; I know 
 there are statutes against it, but, if they are not 
 a dead letter, there is not one case in a hundred 
 which they reach, which is much the same thing. 
 That this should be the case, is a disgrace to us 
 as a Christian nation. 
 
 There is one point, which those who advocate 
 Duelling must be obliged to concede — it is this 
 — if Duelling is justifiable in any class, it is 
 justifiable in all classes. The poor man may 
 sustain as deep an injury in the criminality 
 of his wife, the seduction of his child, or in 
 the loss of his character, as any lord in the 
 land, nay, a far greater. A man of fortune 
 can afford to hire a substitute, in the office of 
 housekeeper, and as nurse and teacher of his 
 children — a poor man cannot. The loss of vir- 
 tue in a poor man's child, often strikes away 
 from her the means of subsistence — this is not 
 the case with the children of affluence. As to
 
 1G 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 character, it is more essential to an individual in 
 a subordinate situation, than to one of higher 
 station, since the place the former will occupy 
 m society, and the comforts he may possess, 
 will, and do most materially depend upon his 
 character or good name, in fact, the welfare, the 
 happiness, and the respectability of himself and 
 family, are, in a great measure, determined by 
 it. Is this the case with the rich > No ! a per- 
 son endowed with wealth, feels no privation of 
 this kind, resulting from the loss of character, 
 and, to speak the plain truth, there are very few 
 of our men of powder and flint, who have much 
 character to fight about. Admitting, however, 
 that Duelling is justifiable in all classes, let its 
 advocates be consistent, and recommend its adop- 
 tion to all classes, let coal-heavers, tailors, tink- 
 ers, sweeps, and scavengers settle their differ- 
 ences by deadly combat, let masters teach their 
 servants the same notions of honour as they 
 themselves entertain, let them put mortal spurs 
 on all our fighting cocks. Could they do this, 
 and do it successfully, I am quite sure, they 
 would soon grow sick of their own doctrines, 
 and try to introduce a different fashion. The 
 fact of there being a large standing army in the 
 country, and soldiers always among us, perpet-
 
 ESSAYS. 77 
 
 nates the system of appeal to arms, for the re- 
 dress of real or imagined injury. I am aware, 
 it would be improper and unjust, to speak with 
 disrespect of any class in the community, be- 
 cause, good and worthy men are to be found in 
 all professions, however unlikely some of them 
 are, to engender, or even to preserve the prin- 
 ciples and feelings which render such characters 
 estimable ; but truth will bear me out in assert- 
 ing, that military men, whose courage must be 
 preserved as free from suspicion as female hon- 
 our, whose residence is never fixed, and whose 
 business is war and destruction, cannot, from 
 their very pursuits, seek love and peace as a 
 citizen should. Nay, even the choice of arms 
 as a profession, justifies the assumption, that to 
 such individuals, " a peaceable and quiet life " 
 is not dear. I know enough of the world, to be 
 sensible, that this will not hold good in all cases ; 
 but, to the junior branches of the military profes- 
 sion, especially to those of high birth and con- 
 nexion, who have been sunned and spoiled on the 
 lap of affluence, it does apply. These, being, 
 in most cases, immoral in their habits and over- 
 bearing in their manners, often inflict injury, or 
 outrage the feelings, and the only reparation 
 their honour allows them to make, is, " There is
 
 78 ESSAYS. 
 
 my card," -which, being interpreted into plain 
 English, means, " I am ready to fight you." 
 Many a brainless and insolent scoundrel, has 
 escaped with impunity, through this villainous 
 loop-hole. 'Tis a short answer, but it serves 
 the parties right, who admit such firebrands in- 
 to the domestic circles of peaceable citizens. 
 Young men, in general, wish to appear gallant 
 and fearless, hence, they readily adopt the mili- 
 tary fashion, as suiting their taste, and the nat- 
 ural presumption of youth. Thus, the poison 
 insinuates itself into the social system, and high 
 example has fastened it upon us, in so arbitrary 
 a manner, that the captain of a hundred victories, 
 is obliged to stand to be shot at, in obedience to 
 a fatal fashion, and grey hairs and feeble knees, 
 are brought into the field of death, to bleed on 
 the same hellish altar. 
 
 I know, it may be argued, that there are 
 crimes committed, for which our laws have pro- 
 vided no punishment, or no adequate punishment 
 — such as adultery, seduction, and so on, and 
 it has been contended, that, in such cases, a man 
 is justifiable, if he take the remedy into his own 
 hands, and inflict punishment himself; I admit 
 the defective state of our laws, which, like those 
 of Temperance Societies, look with a mild as-
 
 ESSAYS. 79 
 
 pcct on the sins of the higher classes ; but, if 
 every man was allowed to estimate his own in- 
 jury, and to award punishment by the standard 
 of his own views and feelings, civil society 
 would dissolve, and all our institutions would be 
 uprooted in a month ; put the matter in any 
 shape you please, if you admit the right of in- 
 dividual judgement and action, in the revenge 
 of injuries, independent of restraint, you admit 
 a doctrine into civil society, which aims at its 
 very existence. If I may slay the man who has 
 seduced my wife or my child, why may not an- 
 other exact the same measure of vengeance from 
 a villain, who, by fraud or dishonesty, has 
 brought that person, from a respectable station, 
 to prison or to beggary, and his children to the 
 workhouse, or, perhaps, to eventual starvation, 
 madness, and suicide. Is not the one case as 
 bad as the other ? I have no doubt, there have 
 been Bankrupts, Insolvents, and Attorneys in 
 this country, Avhom the law has not touched, 
 who have committed as diabolical robberies, in- 
 flicted as much suffering, and caused as many 
 deaths, as any criminal that ever stood on the 
 drop of the Old Bailey. If, therefore, Ave ad- 
 mit a man to take the law into his own hands, 
 in the case of adultery — how could Ave deny it
 
 SO ESSAYS. 
 
 to a thousand other cases equally criminal — and 
 equally aggravating and fatal to the injured. But, 
 for the sake of argument, admitting that we may 
 redress our "wrongs, in extreme cases, where the 
 law gives no satisfaction, and awards no penalty, 
 would Duelling receive any sanction by such an 
 admission ? — If it is true, without controversy, 
 that, before I can, by the laws of Honour, call 
 an injurer to an account, I must place my life 
 on the same die as his. I cannot put him to any 
 greater risk or jeopardy, in any shape, than I am 
 called upon, at the same time, to put myself. — Is 
 this justice? — Is this honour? — Is the guilty 
 wretch, who has made a home and a family deso- 
 late, and he, who has sustained the injury — upon 
 an equal footing? Is there not, in the sight of 
 God, and in the sight of man, an immeasurable 
 distance between them ? yet the laws of honour 
 can make no difference between such persons. 
 Away with such laws — the poor wretches that 
 light their fires by the road side, and sleep beneath 
 their carts, are governed by a better code ! What 
 benefit can the duel give ? If, conscience-smit- 
 ten, my antagonist fires his pistol in the air, and 
 he falls by mine, I am accounted little better 
 than a murderer by honourable men. If he aims 
 at me, and I fall, he goes into the society to
 
 ESSAYS. 81 
 
 which he belongs, a tried, brave man, and I, by 
 my own act, have compelled him to add mur- 
 der to adultery. In whatever light the subject 
 is viewed, no good can be shown to result from 
 Duelling. It is the curse of the higher orders 
 — they think, without the smell of powder, good 
 breeding and delicate feeling can never be pre- 
 served among them. Let them try — let the 
 known duellist be looked upon in the same light, 
 as the woman who has forfeited her honour — let 
 it be as impossible for the one to regain his stand- 
 ing in society, as it is for the other to regain 
 hers, and Duelling would soon be laid aside. 
 The extinction of Duelling, would introduce a 
 beneficial change into elevated Kfe. No fighting 
 Fitzgerald would then make a whole assembly of 
 gentlemen tremble at his presence, such person- 
 ages would reap no impunity from their du- 
 elling pistols, but would be consigned over to the 
 police, like other ruffians. Taking it for granted, 
 that the high-born have feelings and affections 
 something akin to those of humbler origin, I 
 would say, are you a father or a mother, a wife 
 or a sister, and do you admit the duellist into 
 3-our domestic circle ? — Remember, the day may 
 come, when your best friend may meet that 
 person, "in an hour that ye think not of," 
 
 M
 
 82 ESSAYS. 
 
 when, unconscious of the thunder cloud that is 
 bursting over you, you are locked in the arms of 
 slumber. Oh! if Home is a loved Avord — if the 
 welfare of your family is dear to you — if the 
 good of society is any object in your esteem — if 
 the hope of heaven is any hope of yours, I con- 
 jure you, not only to shun the homicide, but 
 never to favour with one approving smile, the 
 man that would be an apologist for him. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 CONDITION OF THE POOR. 
 
 It is a lamentable fact, that, with a few excep- 
 tions, there is no more sympathy or connexion 
 between the high and low classes — between the 
 law-makers, and those for whom they make laws, 
 than there is between day and night; though, 
 to make the moral landscape smile, they ought 
 to blend with and soften each other, like the 
 lights and shadows of a beautiful picture. " Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbour as thyself; " is a pre- 
 cept, which, if acted upon, would set all right. 
 Would to God, that every Englishman could 
 feel as much for his neighbour, as he does for 
 Ins horses and his dogs ! This would be a long
 
 ESSAYS. 83 
 
 step towards emerging from the present state of 
 things. Do I accuse my countrymen of inhu- 
 manity ? Not exactly ; but, I do say, that 
 much of their benevolence is exhausted on im- 
 proper and illegitimate objects, and, that the 
 operation of the Poor and Game Laws, has had 
 a fatal tendency, in alienating the sympathies of 
 the middling and higher classes, from those who 
 have the best right to them, that is, their own 
 poor neighbours. 
 
 The Farmer or Tradesman, who is ill able to 
 bear the weight of the Poor's rate, suffers his 
 mind to become soured against those, to whom 
 it is doled out in miserable pittances ; and, in 
 too many cases, the pauper either sees it or feels 
 it in some shape or other, and this engenders a 
 corresponding, but deeper enmity in him, in 
 proportion to the misery of his situation, and to 
 the degree, that the other is beyond the reach of 
 retaliation. It must be admitted, that the poor 
 are, in many instances, idle, thriftless, and 
 drunken ; for the drunkard, no excuse can be 
 offered, he is equally a pest to his own connex- 
 ions and to the public ; yet, pity is due to his 
 unfortunate family : the idle man, is often both 
 unhealthy and hunger-bitten : the thriftless fam- 
 ily, pay the penalty due to their vice, in weekly
 
 8i ESSAYS. 
 
 returns of distress and starvation. Again, if the 
 poor man is suspected of being, or having been 
 a poacher, it is enough, not only to alienate the 
 good-will of the gentry from him, but, unless 
 they make him a gamekeeper, to entail upon 
 him their lasting dislike : if he runs after the 
 Methodists or Ranters, he forfeits the good-will 
 of the Clergy, and their powerful influence into 
 the bargain : if he has been drawn into the gulf 
 of politics, if he meddles with high things or 
 high personages, he is a marked man ; and the 
 poverty, ignorance, and abject situation of the 
 offender, instead of extenuating, only aggravate 
 his crime. Thus it is — prejudice and bigotry 
 coil themselves round the heart — the stream of 
 charity is turned out of its natural channel — the 
 interchange of good offices and kind feelings is 
 prevented, and the liberal and affluent, lavish 
 on foreign and questionable objects, that which 
 should gladden and bless their own neighbour- 
 hoods. 
 
 The basis of society, is brotherhood — its ob- 
 ject, the security, interest, and happiness of all 
 its members. In a well-regulated family, we see 
 the best epitome of a good government. Alas ! 
 that the analogy between the head of a family 
 and the head of a state, should be so often lest
 
 ESSAYS. 85 
 
 sight of, and that the fraternal tie should be so 
 utterly forgotten. There is often more reason 
 for the appeal, " Am not 1 a man and a brother ?" 
 in an English vestry, than in a West India 
 plantation. Parochial relief, is that provision, 
 which is rightly secured to the destitute, sick, 
 aged, widow, orphan, and outcast, and the ten- 
 or of all revelation is, "be kind unto these, 
 that it may be well with you ;" yet, being a 
 compulsory subsistence, and the power of reg- 
 ulating its amount, being placed in the hands of 
 those who have to bear the burden, it is always 
 a scanty — often an insufficient one ; but true 
 Charity, moving in the place of God, searches 
 out the dwellings of misery, and makes amends 
 for parochial unkindness. Her temple is the 
 house of mourning, there she brings hex free-will 
 offerings, and fulfils the law that is written 
 on the heart. 
 
 With regard to the benevolence of the present 
 day, it is to be regretted, that there is much 
 counterfeit coin in circulation, as well as sterling 
 gold : there is, in fact, a Fashion in it, as in all 
 other things. Clothing for the blacks, churches 
 and chapels for the whites, donations and sub- 
 scriptions to foreign refugees, foreign missions, 
 religious societies, infirmaries, and debtors, with
 
 86 ESSAYS. 
 
 their published lists of benefactors, instead of 
 taking their place, after our destitute neighbours, 
 take precedence of, and actually absorb, what 
 the latter, on every rational and Scriptural con- 
 sideration, have a superior right to. Talk about 
 Africa, India, or Greece, and our hearts melt at 
 the appeal. We answer to the call of humanity, 
 if she invoke us from a thousand miles off, but 
 cur destitute and suffering fellow-townsman or 
 fellow- villager, is too common place an object to 
 attract our attention, or to arouse our sympathy. 
 But weigh the matter impartially — whether is a 
 bottle of wine, given to a sick and impoverish- 
 ed neighbour, or the worth of it, given to a re- 
 ligious society, the most acceptable offering to 
 that Being, who loves mercy better than sacrifice, 
 and who has declared, that what is given unto 
 the poor, is lent unto Him ? If a poor man is 
 equally as destitute of the bread that perisheth, 
 as of that which endureth for ever, give him 
 the former first, and he will love the other better 
 for it afterwards, because, in so doing, you ex- 
 emplify its blessed spirit, and best explain what 
 true religion means. I know, there are many 
 supporters of religious institutions, to whom 
 these strictures do not apply — genuine and wor- 
 thy Christians, of various sects, who are equally
 
 ESSAYS. 87 
 
 a blessing to their own neighbourhoods, and to 
 the societies with which they are identified. To 
 these, my remarks mean no offence, nor will they 
 give any. All that I could offer such characters, 
 would be my hearts unfeigned homage and love. 
 I take it for granted, and it cannot be too of- 
 ten repeated, that those who have the first and 
 strongest claims to our kindness, are the poor 
 around our own dwellings. Charity begins at 
 home — there it unfolds its first blossoms — there 
 it sheds its first fruits ; and, call it what you 
 will, but it is not Charity that seeks another 
 field of operation, while that remains undone. 
 Some may think they have no destitute persons 
 in their vicinity. Have such ascertained this to 
 be the case, in the village or street in which they 
 reside ? I fear not. Alas, the country is in 
 that state, that no individual need go far, in any 
 direction, to find out real objects of charity.— 
 Reader 1 look at that cottage — 'tis the dinner 
 hour, and what dost thou think is prepared for 
 the repast of the sick parent and the numerous 
 family, that dwell within ? Nothing but a little 
 barley-bread, and some tea, made from mint, 
 without either milk or sugar to render it palat- 
 able ; and yet, they make no complaint ! * Per- 
 • Drawn from Life.
 
 88 ESSAYS. 
 
 haps, some poor wretches, within a stone's cast 
 of thy dwelling, are in a similar or worse situa- 
 tion. — Ah ! if a merciful Providence did not, in 
 many cases, turn the poor man's water into wine 
 — make that nourishing and sustaining to him, 
 which affords neither nourishment nor support 
 to others, what would become of him ? 
 
 The statements which have been made in Par- 
 liament, and elsewhere, corroborated as they are 
 by every days observation, must convince us, 
 beyond a doubt, that the poor, generally, are 
 in a miserable condition. Unhappily, where the 
 most power has centred, there, hitherto, has the 
 least anxiety been manifested, to better the con- 
 dition of the poor : few and feeble are the at- 
 tempts that have been made by legislative enact- 
 ment, to increase their comforts, or to shield 
 them from the hard hand of oppression and 
 wrong. On this point, I cannot refrain from 
 noticing an opinion, which has been most stren- 
 uously inculcated on the lower orders ; it is, 
 that seditious publications have had a prejudicial 
 effect upon their welfare, and deprived them of 
 a world of good. I believe the contrary. I la- 
 ment, as much as any, the blasphemous deprav- 
 ity of the press, but I cannot shut my eyes to 
 the fact, that out of its political licentiousness,
 
 ESSAYS. 89 
 
 no little benefit has accrued to the poor. In the 
 absence of better feelings, fear has often opera- 
 ted beneficially. A short anecdote will illustrate 
 my meaning. In a small town, in the north of 
 England, drinking had long prevailed among 
 the formers, on the market day, to a shameful ex- 
 tent, and continuing over their glasses till a late 
 hour at night, Mas a common practice among 
 them. Three desperate fellows, belonging to 
 the neighbourhood, committed some daring rob- 
 beries, on the roads leading from the town, a 
 few winters ago : the effect was marvellous — 
 they accomplished more than fifty years preach- 
 ing could do ; they effected a complete reforma- 
 tion. After this, the farmers were seen scam- 
 pering off home, in all directions, very early in 
 the afternoon, and have been different men ever 
 since. Thus it has been with some heedless pol- 
 iticians ; they revelled and caroused — they were 
 well off, and they cared for nobody ; they were 
 equally regardless of the declamations of their 
 enemies, and the remonstrances of their friends. 
 " They cared for none of these things ;" till some 
 desperate characters, turning the press into an 
 engine of destruction, made them tremble for 
 their personal safety, and forced reformation 
 upon them. 
 
 N
 
 90 ESSAYS, 
 
 It is the duty of every person, in whatever 
 circumstances, to take care, that no improper 
 waste is permitted in his family, and, that what 
 the poor are pining for lack of, should not be 
 thrown to dogs or to dunghills. The food of 
 the land, whether flesh, grain, or vegetable, is 
 the gift of God to man ; and man has the first 
 right to it : a right which no compact, no law 
 of property can do away ; though many legal 
 functionaries talk as if natural right was no 
 right at all, and man had no claim to anything 
 whatever, but what is to be found in parliamen- 
 tary statutes ; in their view, reason, right, and 
 common sense have no form or existence, but 
 that in Avhich they are presented to us, through 
 the medium of the Three Estates. I dare not 
 say here, what Scripture and reason would jus- 
 tify me in saying, respecting a state of society, 
 in which sober and industrious men, through 
 w r ant of employment, are cast destitute and home- 
 less on the community, and then are punished 
 as rogues and vagabonds, for being in such a con- 
 dition ! * The poor were left by the Parent of the 
 
 * " Every person, lodging in any outhouse, or in the open 
 air, not having any visible means of subsistence, and not 
 giving a good account of himself, is a rogue and a vaga- 
 bond, and any justice of peace may commit such offender, 
 being convicted by the confession of such offender, or one or
 
 ecsays. 91 
 
 human family, to the care of the rich, that His 
 own best attribute, Mercy, might unite them 
 together with a silken band, and equally " bless 
 him that gives, and him that takes ;" but man — 
 unbelieving man, still distrusts the strength of 
 such a tie, and substitutes an iron chain. Reader ! 
 be not thou faithless, but believing ; if Provi- 
 dence pours abundance into thy dwelling, think 
 of those it intrusts to thy bounty, and manifest 
 thy gratitude by kindness to them. Dost thou 
 wish to live in the esteem of the good — dost thou 
 wish hope and peace to hover round thy dying 
 pillow — dost thou wish well to thy children ? — 
 wouldst thou be a Christian indeed, and a patri- 
 ot indeed ? Be a friend to the poor, and thy 
 wishes are and shall be fulfilled. — 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S LOOKING GLASS. 
 
 1. Is Christianity a living and directing princi- 
 ple in me ; and, since I professed to live under 
 its influence, have I become a better son — 
 h usband — parent — brother — master — friend — 
 neighbour — subject ? 
 
 more credible witnesses, to the house of correction, for any 
 time not exceeding three calendar months." Cabinet Law- 
 yer, page 147. — Query, is a true account a good account ? —
 
 92 ESSAYS. 
 
 2. Am I the same character in my own family, 
 as I wish to appear in the sight of the world, 
 and in the eyes of my fellow-Christians? 
 
 3. Do I use every means to instil religious 
 principles into the minds of my children, and of 
 those to whom I stand in the relation of master ? 
 
 4. Do I ever omit family prayer, night and 
 morning, except in case of sickness or other ur- 
 gent necessity, and then, is it with reluctance ? 
 
 5. Have I a friend to whom I have not spcken 
 on the subject of religion ; and in my correspon- 
 dence with my friends, is religion ever an exclu- 
 ded or forgotten topic? 
 
 6. Have I acted with perfect honesty and can- 
 dour in all my transactions with my fellow-men, 
 and have I, in every instance, acted towards 
 them, as I should wish, them to do towards me, 
 in similar circumstances. ? 
 
 7. Am I as tender of other people's reputation, 
 and of their jeelings also, as I should wish them 
 to be of mine ? 
 
 8. Have I an enemy whom I have not forgiv- 
 en, and do I, to the utmost of my power, en- 
 deavour to live m peace with all men? 
 
 9. Do I render unto Ccesar, the things that 
 are Cnesar'sj do I dishonestly evade the payment 
 •of any lawful impost, or defraud the revenue by
 
 ESSAYS. 93 
 
 the purchase of smuggled goods of any descrip- 
 tion ? 
 
 10. Do I render tribute to whom tribute is 
 due, custom to whom custom, fear to whom 
 fear, and honour to whom honour, without ser- 
 vility or interested motive, and purely as a 
 Christian duty ? 
 
 11. Do my fellow-countrymen occupy the 
 first place in my regards, and do I ever pray 
 for the prosperity of my native land, and the 
 continuance of its gospel privileges? 
 
 12. Do I minister to the spiritual and tempo- 
 ral wants of my ignorant and suffering neigh. 
 hours, as far as God entrusts me with the means 
 of so doing ? 
 
 13. Do I identify myself with the cause of 
 Christianity, by giving to its institutions all the 
 support I can, pecuniary and otherwise, and, in 
 so doing, is my motive pure, my manner wws- 
 tenlatious, and God's glory my desire and aim ? 
 
 14. Do I frequently and diligently search the 
 Scriptures, with the desire of obtaining the 
 knowledge of God — the knowledge of myself — 
 the knowledge of my duty, and the love of it, 
 from the revelations of the Divine Mind, the 
 precepts, the promises, and the holy examples, 
 which are placed before me by them ?
 
 94 ESSAYS. 
 
 1 5. Do I earnestly pant after closer commu- 
 nion with God, for the perpetual presence and 
 guidance of his Holy Spirit, for light to see and 
 grace to do my duty, and for that deep-seated 
 humility of heart, and humble teachableness of 
 disposition, which only can prepare the mind for 
 the enjoyment of that inheritance, of which 
 those purifying, hallowed, and sustaining influ- 
 ences are the earnest and the seal ? 
 
 16. Is religion the great business of my life, 
 to which every other interest and feeling is sub- 
 ordinate ; do I, to the utmost of my power, en- 
 deavour to sustain its character and to extend its 
 influence, by prayerful watchfulness over my 
 own conduct ? 
 
 17. Do I ever omit private prayer night and 
 morning, or perform this duty in a careless or 
 hurried manner ; and during the day, is my 
 soul frequently lifted up in ejaculatory aspira- 
 tions to God ? 
 
 18. Am I sensible that there is no standing still 
 in religion, that true Christianity cannot be bur- 
 ied in a closet, but impels its followers to a life 
 of active duty ? 
 
 19. Do I keep the sabbath holy unto the Lord, 
 in my house and in my heart ; "not doing my 
 own ways, not finding my own pleasure, not
 
 SiSSAYS. 95 
 
 speaking my own words," and do I love His 
 service, His sanctuary, and His people ? 
 
 20. What is my besetting sin ? Is it in the 
 want of necessary prudence — excess of worldly 
 anxiety — the want of faith — the want of chari- 
 ty — the want of decision — the want of humility 
 — in temper — indulgence — desire - thought ? — 
 in which of these lurks the enemy I have most 
 cause to fear and to shun ? 
 
 21. Does my love to my divine Master enable 
 me to glory in his cross, to despise the shame of 
 being considered enthusiast or fanatic, and to 
 bear the remembrance of his death for ever on 
 my mind ? 
 
 22. Do I daily and earnestly pray for the ad- 
 vancement of the Redeemer's kingdom — the 
 more abundant effusion of the Holy Spirit — for 
 the conversion of the Gentile nations, and the 
 restoration of the poor outcast and degraded Is- 
 rael ? 
 
 23. Above all things, am I sensible, that no 
 merit of my own can render me acceptable in 
 the sight of my Maker, and that " out of Christ, 
 God is a consuming fire." Am I fully impres- 
 sed with the conviction, that good works possess 
 no value, but as proving the reality of my faith, 
 and the sincerity of my love to Him, to whom I 
 am indebted for all things ?
 
 95 ESSAYS. 
 
 Seakciier of hearts ! may the consciousness 
 of Thy presence be solemnly impressed upon me* 
 Thou knowest the real state of the heart, that 
 now communes with itself, as in Thy sight. 
 Help Thy unworthy servant faithfully to exam- 
 ine himself by the standard of Thy truth. Thou 
 knowest the deceitfulness of sin, and the blind- 
 ness of human wisdom. Save me from decei- 
 ving myself. Let the beams of that Light, 
 which cometh down from above, shine full up- 
 on my soul. May I be deeply sensible of the 
 corruption of my nature, and mourn over my 
 iniquities. I have sinned against heaven and 
 in Thy sight. I have followed too much the de- 
 vices and desires of my own heart. I am asham- 
 ed, and blush to lift up my face to Thee, on 
 account of these things — but Thou art slow to 
 anger, and abundant in mercy and goodness. 
 Oh, strengthen the knees, that well may knock 
 against each other in bowing before Thee. Raise 
 up the hands that hang down, powerless to plead, 
 without the assistance of Thy Spirit. Father of 
 mercies, I approach unto Thee through the only 
 way by which Thou art accessible to a sinner 
 — through the blood of the Redeemer — for His 
 sake, forgive all Thou hast seen amiss — for His 
 sake, preserve me from all the evils and the 
 snares that would entangle my soul. I commend
 
 essays. 97 
 
 myself to Thy guidance. " Oh ! be not a stran- 
 ger to the soul, in Avhich Thou hast planted an 
 inclination to serve Thee." For the sake of Him, 
 whose intercession never failed, grant me that, 
 without which all other blessings are valueless, 
 adaption into Thy family. I ask not so much for 
 the consciousness of the blessing, as for the bless- 
 ing itself: yet, Oh, if both might be vouchsafed ! 
 — But Thou knowest best what should be reveal- 
 ed, and what should be hidden. Oh, God — 
 when Thou wilt — only keep me faithful to the 
 end. Amen, 
 
 THE UNION OF 
 
 FAITH AND GOOD WORKS. 
 
 Faith is the link that binds me to my Saviour; 
 Good Works the link that binds me to my fel- 
 low-men. 
 
 Faith is the light of the soul ; Love is the 
 mirror in which it is reflected. 
 
 The mind is the Prism of Faith ; the heavenly 
 ray falls upon it, and we call the refraction by 
 the names of "joy, peace, long-suffering, gen-, 
 tleness, goodness, meekness, and temperance."
 
 f)S ESSAYS. 
 
 Faith without Works is a vine without grapes : 
 Faith without Love is the faith of the devils. 
 
 Faith is a fruit tree; and neither oaks nor 
 elms, however full of leaf, are accounted such. 
 
 Without Faith, it is impossible to please God ; 
 without Good Works, it is impossible to attest 
 its reality before men. 
 
 Faith is the channel by which all that is pure 
 and angelic is received into the soul ; Love is 
 the over-flowing of that fountain, which gushes 
 out in benevolence and good-will to all. 
 
 Faith sees with the eyes, feels with the heart, 
 and works with the hands of love. 
 
 "SEE WITH WHAT 
 
 PLEASURE A CHRISTIAN CAN DIE ! " 
 
 As Mary approached the close of life, the graces 
 of the Christian character shone forth with in- 
 creasing beauty : the faith which had borne her 
 up through all her afflictions, now triumphed in 
 the full certainty of approaching bliss: that 
 hope, which at one time was flushed with joy, 
 and at another blanched with fear, now bloomed 
 with all the freshness of immortal delight: that 
 ardent devotion, which formerly only vented
 
 ESSAYS. 99 
 
 itself in secret sighs and tears, now poured forth 
 its irrestrainable extacies : " Oh ! Thou, the chief 
 among ten thousand, whose visage was marred 
 more than any man's — these damps upon my 
 brow are nothing to thy crimson sweat — the 
 throb of pain that shakes through this poor ten- 
 ement, is nothing to the torture that racked thy 
 expiring frame, when on the gory cross thy 
 life was offered up for me. Oh, God forbid that 
 I should glory, save in the cross of my Lord 
 Jesus Christ ! And you, my friends, taste and 
 see that the Lord is gracious — come and I will 
 tell you what he has done for my soul. Ere my 
 faint praises shall mingle among the songs of the 
 redeemed, my soul would magnify the Lord. — 
 Oh, death ! where is thy sting ? To me thou 
 comest robed in light and with an angel-smile. 
 Oh, grave ! thou hast no victory to boast — thy 
 cold chamber shall indeed contain this mortal 
 body, but thou art the portal of bliss to my ex- 
 ulting spirit, which, bounding beyond thee, al- 
 ready feels a purer element — a heavenly atmos- 
 phere stirring round it. Oh, yes ! earth is re- 
 ceding, the clouds are dispersing, and faith is 
 brightening into vision — hope is no longer hope 
 — 'tis bliss ; the sunbeams of another world are 
 darting upon me ! Blessed beings, that hover
 
 100 ESSAYS. 
 
 round — are ye not all ministering spirits, sent 
 forth to bring an heir of salvation home ? — Yes, 
 to day I shall be with Him in Paradise — Oh, 
 bear me to Him on your fragrant wings ! " — 
 Happy, happy saint ! like the beautiful Ash, 
 planted by the waters, whose leaves in summer 
 bloom with living green, and in autumn descend 
 in a shower of gold ; so didst thou bloom and 
 so didst thou decline. Let me die the death of 
 the righteous, and let my last end be like hers ! 
 
 THE DISEMBODIED SPIRIT. 
 
 That amazing faculty, Thought, the progress of 
 which no ocean can limit or barrier impede, 
 that ranges fearless and unconfined, throughout 
 the lengths and breadths of Creation, whose 
 pathway is flowered with suns and stars, and 
 whose circuit comprehends a thousand worlds ; 
 tells me I have a spirit within, destined for an- 
 other and more exalted state of being. But I 
 feel, that in my present condition, my other 
 powers are prisoned and chained to the ground, 
 by that wonderful but temporary mechanism, in 
 which they are inclo?ed, and by the help of 
 which, they now perform their stunted opera- 
 tions. All that is beautiful — flowers, shells, and
 
 ESSAYS. 101 
 
 gems ; sun, moon, and stars ; morning and even- 
 ing's gold, purple, and crimson ; this lovely 
 world, green hill, gay valley, and pure stream, 
 and, lovelier than them all — woman's look and 
 childhood's smile : I can only behold through 
 the frail and narrow medium of the eye. All 
 that is harmonious — the song of birds, the gush 
 of waters, the sound of "cornet, flute, harp, 
 sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer," and, more ravish- 
 ing than they, the magical modulations, and 
 transcendant powers of the human voice ; I can 
 only be sensible of, through the organs of hear- 
 ing. All that is fragrant — the breeze that has 
 been wantoning with the flowers or rifling the 
 vines, " spikenard and saffron, calamus and cin- 
 namon, myrrh and aloes, with all the chief 
 spices ; " I can only enjoy through the organs 
 of smelling. All that is delicious — the pure 
 mountain spring, the juicy grape, the rich pine, 
 the teeming and sweet plenty of a land flowing 
 with milk and honey ; I can only feel the blessing 
 of, through the organs of taste. All that is agree- 
 able and refreshing — the reviving air, the downy 
 couch, the gentle pressure, and the fond em- 
 brace ; I can only experience through the organs 
 of feeling : and these organs are also the chan- 
 nels by which all that is harsh, painful, and dis-
 
 10-2 ESSAYS. 
 
 gusting is conveyed to the mind. But, when the 
 earthly house of this tabernacle shall be dissol- 
 ved, and the pure and unfettered spirit set at 
 liberty, every part will thrill — will teem with 
 fresh and exquisite sensation : it will then be all 
 
 EYE, ALL EAR, ALL TASTE, ALL SMELL, ALL FEEL- 
 ING ! Every pore, if I may so express it, will be 
 the channel of every sense. Oh, what enlarged 
 capacity — what new-opening and innumerable 
 fountains of intelligence and delight — what a 
 gale of bliss — what a flood tide of feeling ! — 
 Well may it be said, eye hath not seen, nor ear 
 heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of 
 man to conceive the bliss — the glorious and in- 
 expressible plenitude of that felicity, which re- 
 mains to be revealed— which will at death burst 
 upon the immortal and liberated mind.
 
 POEM S. 

 
 P O E M S. 
 
 TO HOPE. 
 
 Ait, fond delusive Hope, adieu! 
 
 And hence, ye cherished dreams of bliss 1 
 No more your phantoms I'll pursue, 
 
 False as the base Iscariot's kiss. 
 
 Each withered charm is wrapt in gloom, 
 And each enchanting vision flies, 
 
 While all is cheerless as the tomb, 
 
 O'er which the pensive willow sighs. 
 
 Cold is the sod where Julia sleeps, 
 
 The grass waves o'er her shrowded form ; 
 O'er her alike unheeded sweeps, 
 
 The vernal breeze — the wint'ry storm. 
 
 Ah, lovely maid, pale is thy lip, 
 
 And quenched the light of thy blue eye; 
 Those sweets the hated worm shall sip, 
 
 Which once to taste was extacy !—
 
 106 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Oh, nought on earth can joy impart, 
 I'll weeping dwell in some retreat, 
 
 'Till heav'n, in pity to this heart, 
 
 Cry, " Throbbing trembler, cease to beat ! 
 
 L O V E. 
 
 When Adam, first from Eden thrown, 
 Strayed in a wilderness unknown, 
 His angel-guests withdrew, nor stay'd 
 The outcast wand'rer's soul to aid ; 
 Love only melted at his doom ; 
 Guided Ins steps and reared his home : 
 Raised the green bower, with myrtle wove, 
 And led him to the shady grove ; 
 There fig-leaves joined, his shame to hide, 
 With gathered fruits his wants supplied : 
 And with that look, which still she wears 
 Amidst life's sorrows and its cares, 
 Breath'd in the wretched wand'rer's ear 
 Words soft and low, but sweet to hear, 
 Of hope, and peace, and joy unfeigned, 
 That still for him, in her remained ! — 
 — Oh ! still to man supremely dear, 
 Love rules the world without a peer ; 
 To rank, nor age, nor clime confined, 
 Her impress smiles on all mankind.
 
 POEMS. 107 
 
 Even yet, at eve, the shady grove 
 Soft echoes with the voice of love ; 
 And youths and maidens still repair 
 And find her nearest to them, there. 
 
 MERC Y. 
 
 When Adam broke God's high behest, 
 And by the mortal fruit transgress'd, 
 The attending angel, quick as thought, 
 To heaven the fatal tidings brought. — 
 The Father from His awful throne 
 Inquired what could for man be done ? 
 Justice snatch'd up his sword, and cried, 
 " Let Justice now be satisfied." 
 Truth raised her hand and thus appealed — 
 " Thy word, Oh God, his doom hath sealed." 
 Meek Mercy left her shining seat, 
 And weeping knelt at Jesu's feet : 
 " If man is lost — Oh, must it be ! 
 My God, what will become of me ? " — 
 Oh, not in vain was made the appeal ; 
 Saviour, thou didst for sinners feel ! 
 Justice was pleased, and Truth unmoved, 
 Rut Mercy was the dearest loved. —
 
 108 POEMS. 
 
 THE SAILOR-BOY'S FAREWELL, 
 
 IN A STORM. 
 
 The spirit of the tempest raves, 
 And Boreas rears aloft the waves ; 
 Tremendous thunders shake the sky, 
 And blazing lightnings vengeful fly. 
 Above me all is storm and gloom, 
 Around me ravening billows boom ; 
 And this poor bark, life's only stay, 
 Tossing amidst the flying spray, 
 Reels o'er the abyss that roars beneath, 
 Dragging its victims down to death. 
 Left I for this, my happy home ? 
 And shall stern Ocean be my tomb ? 
 And must this wildly-dashing surge 
 Sound the poor sea-boy's funeral dirge ? 
 No more shall I my father see, 
 Or mother kind, Ah, hapless me ! 
 Why left I such a home to brave 
 The perils of the treach'rous wave ? 
 Adieu ! my friends, a last adieu ! — 
 Oh, hard's the task to part with you ! 
 The rosy smiles of rising morn 
 For me will never more return ;
 
 POEMS. 109 
 
 And glorious Sol no more shall rise, 
 Till clos'd in death these tearful eyes. 
 And when again he lights the floods, 
 Glitt'ring between the parting clouds, 
 His heavenly beam upon the sea 
 Shall gild the surge that swells o'er me ; 
 
 Oh, Thou, the Lord of earth and wave, 
 Thine aid this awful hour I crave ; 
 On Thee, my trembling soul would lean, — 
 Support me in this dreadful scene. 
 The smiles of hope would banish fear, 
 Could I but think my Saviour near ! 
 These whirling gulfs should dreadless be, 
 Might I but rise from them to Thee ; 
 Oh, to this heart Thy grace extend, 
 Jesus, in death, be Thou my friend, 
 While I have breath I'll call on Thee— 
 Lord, in Thy kingdom think of me ! 
 
 ELEGY— WRITTEN IN A 
 CHURCH YARD. 
 
 Oh, for a taste of your repose, 
 
 Ye peaceful inmates of the tomb ; 
 
 For tearful life's unnumbered woes 
 
 Break not the peace of your still home.
 
 110 POEMS. 
 
 Fell tyrant, Death, full oft' thy blast 
 Hath fallen on affection's pride ; 
 
 While Mis'ry's sons thou harmless passed, 
 And where thou coiddst befriend, denied! 
 
 Oh, thou hast robb'd me of a gem 
 
 Which India's treasure could not buy : 
 
 Oh, thou hast rooted up the stem 
 
 On which was flow'ring all my joy ! 
 
 O'er love's lost pleasures I have mourned, 
 O'er beauty's early grave have knelt, 
 
 Sobb'd o'er the precious dust inurned, 
 
 And sorrows bitt'rest pangs have felt. 
 
 For all the joys that life e'er gave, 
 
 The earth's cold bosom now contains ; 
 
 And Hope leans weeping o'er the grave 
 Where rest my Mary's dear remains. 
 
 Oh, Mary ! if thy shade were nigh, 
 If tears from angel eyes e'er came, 
 
 How would they gush from thy soft eye, 
 Couldst thou but view this alter'd frame. 
 
 But I can ne'er repine at this, 
 
 For death itself should welcome be ;
 
 POEMS. Ill 
 
 And Oh, to meet thee — purest bliss ! 
 
 For happiness must dwell with thee. 
 
 Haste then, ye hours, till the fresh grave 
 Close o'er a form of life so weary ; 
 
 Then let me rest — 'tis all I crave, 
 
 Oh, let me rest beside my Mary ! — 
 
 N I G H T, 
 
 (written during severe illness.) 
 
 In still repose now nature lies, 
 And Cynthia slowly climbs the skies ; 
 The tuneful lark is hushed to rest, 
 The linnet slumbers on her nest. 
 
 The placid brook steals silent by, 
 And all is mute tranquillity ; 
 Save where the whisp'ring zephyrs stray, 
 Or Philomela pours her lay. 
 
 How sweet, how calm, this midnight hour 
 To those whom secret griefs devour ; 
 The anguished heart no longer mourns, 
 And banished Peace again returns. 
 
 The noise of towns, the din of trade, 
 Intrude not in this hallowed shade ;
 
 112 POEMS. 
 
 Here mild sequester'd Quiet reigns, 
 And Virtue still her sway retains. 
 
 Oh, might I here, -while life is given, 
 Prepare my soul for God and heaven. 
 Ensnaring world ! I court not thee, 
 A shroud is all thou hast for me .'— 
 
 DESPONDENCY, 
 
 Written in May, 1825. 
 
 From Winter 'scaped, the truant gale 
 In Flora's cups perfumes its wing, 
 
 And stealing over hill and dale 
 
 Proclaims the first approach of Spring. 
 
 Oh, Spring ! how oft' I've greeted thee 
 
 With mounting heart and kindling eye ; 
 
 Whilst notes of sweetest minstrelsy 
 
 Awoke from earth, and air, and sky. 
 
 But ah, when last thou'rt drest in flowers, 
 Clarinda's eye and heart were gay ; 
 
 And now, alas ! thy dripping showers 
 Fall on a form more cold than they. 
 
 Yon Sun will soon renew thy charms, 
 
 The softened breeze thy sweets restore ;
 
 POEMS. 113 
 
 But no such hope this bosom warms, 
 
 Whose j<»ys once blighted, bloom no more ! 
 
 It ETUENI N G II O P E, 
 Writ/ en in May, 1826'. 
 
 (INSCRIBED TO A SISTEi!.) 
 
 On ! to the heart, -whose riven chords 
 
 O'er deep bereavement long have bled, 
 
 How -welcome are affection's words ; 
 
 The balm that genuine love can shed ! 
 
 Upon the waves of life's rough tide 
 
 That whirl'd me back upon the past ; 
 
 Now shall my bark in safety ride, 
 
 Sunshine and joy are mine at last 
 
 No more I pace the wither'd mead, 
 Nor see the raven's sooty wing ; 
 
 I hear the lark above my head, 
 
 And flow'rs and verdure round me spring. 
 
 No more wild dreams disturb my rest, 
 Or timid sleep before me fiics ; 
 
 My bed is now a downy nest, 
 
 Where sleep wrapt in my bosom lies. 
 Q
 
 114 POEMS. 
 
 No more my neighbours shake their heads, 
 To think the Minstrel's end is near : 
 
 Glad Health her cheering influence sheds, 
 And Hope's delightful voice I hear. 
 
 Oh, Thou, whose word alone is fate, 
 Let Hope with Truth united be ; — 
 
 He never yet was desolate, 
 
 Who bows before, and trusts in Thee. 
 
 TO A PRIMROSE. 
 
 I love thy unassuming bloom, 
 
 Pale tenant of the lowly vale ; 
 
 I love to greet thy sweet perfume 
 Borne on the bosom of the gale. 
 
 Ere the bright Sun came gladly forth 
 To hasten rosy Spring's return, 
 
 Or Flora decked the drooping earth, 
 
 Thou modest smil'd beneath the thorn. 
 
 Though Winter's blasts around thee raved, 
 And prostrate bent thy tender form ; 
 
 Still meekly thou his terrors braved, 
 
 While powerless pass'd his rudest storm. 
 
 Be thou my monitor sweet flower, 
 
 When life's grim Winter visits me,
 
 POEMS. 115 
 
 Then shall I brave its darkest hour, 
 
 And 'mid the tempest smile — like thee ! 
 
 LINES, 
 
 On seeing a Young Man executed, 
 
 FOR FORGERY. 
 
 Poor wretch, that bell now tolls for thee, 
 Though vigour, youth, and health are thine, 
 
 And soon yon ignominious tree 
 
 Will still that heart, now warm as mine ! 
 
 Seest thou the sun's descending ray 
 
 Among yon clouds, so white and clear ? 
 
 Ah, soon 'twill kiss thy lifeless clay — 
 E'en now it shines upon thy bier ! 
 
 Thy childhood past on Eden-side, 
 
 A guiltless, happy stripling thou; 
 A widow's hope, a widow's pride, 
 
 Alas, what feels that parent now ! 
 
 * 
 
 Methinks the tear that dims thine eye 
 Springs at the thought of her distress ; 
 
 Ah, not ev'n life's expiring sigh 
 Will equal it in bitterness.
 
 ri6 
 
 FOFJMS. 
 
 The clock strikes Ten, and ere its bell 
 Shall one move fleeting hour proclaim, 
 
 Thou shalt have bid the world farewell ; 
 And death have triumphed o'er thy frame. 
 
 Poor Youth, untimely is thy fall — 
 Oh, pure and sinless should he be 
 
 Who, deaf to Mercy's powerful call, 
 Could shut the door of hope on thee. 
 
 What man denies, in heaven is found ; 
 
 There Mercy's gates wide open stand ; 
 There the poor prodigal is own'd, 
 
 And welcomed to a happier land. 
 
 HENRY AT ANNA'S TOMB. 
 
 Come pensive breeze that steals along, 
 And sigh congenial to my song ; 
 And thou pure brook that softly flows, 
 Stream sympathetic to my woes; 
 Night spread around a deeper gloom, 
 And silence reign o'er Anna's tomb ! 
 
 The lovely form that fades beneath, 
 Loek'd in the with'ring grasp of death, 
 ''bough now to cold neglect resigned, 
 Once beam'd the fairest of her kind ;
 
 POEMS. 117 
 
 But Mem'ry's tearful page alcne 
 
 The record keeps — of lov'd and gone ! 
 
 No longer heaves that gentle breast. 
 Which to my own I've fondly press'd ; 
 No longer now those lips divine, 
 With pure extatic nectar shine ; 
 No longer is that soft blue eye 
 Dimm'd with the tear of sympathy. 
 
 No more, my Anna, shall we rove 
 
 Along the still sequester'd grove ; 
 
 No longer spend the bliss-fraught hour 
 
 In yonder woodbine-shaded bower ; 
 
 Or wander by the lucid stream, 
 
 Our pathway — flowers, and love — our theme! 
 
 No longer down the vale we'll stray, 
 Pleas'd with the blackbird's tuneful lay ; 
 Or climb the mountain's misty brow 
 To view the spacious plains below : 
 Ye plains and grdves forget to bloom, 
 For Anna moulders in the tomb ! 
 
 Come pensive breeze that steals along, 
 And sigh congenial to my song ; 
 And thou pure brook that softly Mows, 
 Stream sympathetic to my woes ; 
 Night spread around a deeper gloom, 
 And silence reign o'er Anna's tomb ! —
 
 J 18 POEMS. 
 
 LINES, 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE QUAKERS' BURIAL GROUND, 
 
 Terril, Westmorland. 
 
 No scutcheon is here to emblazon the dead, 
 No figure, fair sculptured, in mockery bends, 
 
 The green-sward alone covers each lowly bed, 
 Their names are inscribed on the hearts of 
 their friends. 
 
 Oh, many there are in this verdant spot laid 
 That ne'er thought of praise from frail tablet 
 or tomb, 
 "Who yet shall arise in true glory arrayed, 
 
 Whilst angels claim kindred — and welcome 
 them home ! 
 
 LINES, 
 
 WRITTEN IN A MARRIED LADY'S ALBUM. 
 
 Let others sing — long as they please, 
 
 Of damsels young, and fair, and gay ; 
 
 I string my lyre for none of these, 
 For worshippers enow have they.
 
 POEMS. 119 
 
 Love has indeed a flow'ry spring, 
 
 None then with him compared may be ; 
 
 But with the Cuckoo he takes wing, 
 
 And in the autumn where is he ? — 
 
 Poets are much to blame I ween, 
 
 For with the truant God they rove, 
 
 With them dear wedlock's noiseless scene 
 Is Greenland on the Map of Love. 
 
 Is Wedlock such ? Eliza say, 
 
 Does Love ne'er to thy dwelling come ? 
 Though romping with the girls all day, 
 
 Thy cottage is the urchin's Home ! 
 
 Oh, Wedded Life ! though poets may 
 
 Few wreaths around thy tresses twine, 
 
 To thee, I dedicate my lay, 
 
 Whose heaven of peace and love is mine. 
 
 LINES, 
 
 ON SEEING THE 
 
 "COLLOQUIES" of R. SOUTHEY, Esq. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH PLATES, BY 
 
 W. WESTALL. 
 
 When Art and Genius thus unite, 
 The hand of power and mind of light;
 
 120 POEMS. 
 
 And thou, sweet Keswick, art the scene, 
 Thy hills of heath, and vales of green ; 
 When Sage and Limner thus combined 
 Bring Truth and Beauty to the mind, 
 Adorned with all the gems they've wrought 
 Out of the diamond mines of Thought, 
 No wonder Ave enchanted stand : — 
 A master mind, a magic hand, 
 And round about us — Fairy Land ! 
 
 THOUGHT, 
 
 Suggested by attending the Funercd of a Friend. 
 
 " Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ! " 
 
 And will these words be said o'er mine ? 
 Shall I, too, wear a shroud — and must 
 
 These quiv'ring limbs with earth combine ? 
 
 Alas, and at no distant day, 
 
 Children, perhaps of mine, may come 
 And smiling bear the flowers awav, 
 
 That nourished by my body bloom ! — 
 
 FAREWELL TO NENTHEAD. 
 
 A small village amidst the mountains of Cum- 
 berland, which the writer was obliged to leave 
 on account of ill health.
 
 POEMS. 121 
 
 Lend me the harp that iEolus wildly sweeps, 
 As hoarse he raves along thy naked steeps; 
 Let the rude gales that o'er thy moorlands stray. 
 Bear on their wings the minstrel's parting lay ; 
 Yet, as they pass yon low sequestered dell, 
 Ye echoes soft repeat his last farewell ! 
 There one perchance will hear — and weep to 
 
 hear 
 So sad a strain touched by a hand so dear. — 
 Scrag of the world, with gloomy heath en- 
 twined, 
 Region of clouds, and birth-place of the wind, 
 Ice-house of nature, vegetation's tomb, 
 Desert of hills, stern Winter's favourite home, 
 Farewell ! far from thy fatal storms I fly, 
 To woo the smilings of a warmer sky : 
 Farewell, with more than common speed I haste 
 To quit thee — treeless, miserable waste ! — 
 Warned by lost health thy cold embrace to shun, 
 I seek a climate nearer to the sun ; 
 Where I the breath of Zephyr may inhale, 
 And catch the freshness of a softer gale ; 
 For thou hast on my cheek's fast-fading bloom, 
 Impress'd the ashy paleness of the tomb : 
 And if I 'scape not from thy surly blast, 
 Life's nagging tide will quickly ebb its last 
 
 R
 
 122 POEMS. 
 
 Then fare thee well ! — yet, ah, as I depart, 
 The starting tears betray my anguished heart ! 
 Alas, in leaving thee, I lose some friends, 
 For whom e'en health can hardly make amends. 
 Full well I know how dreary are thy heaths, 
 Deform' d with shapeless rocks and wild snow 
 
 wreaths : 
 Yet there are some — that 'midst thy mountains 
 
 dwell, 
 "Whose breasts with friendship's dearest feelings 
 
 swell, 
 And though thy clime I justly may condemn, 
 Oh ! my heart bleeds to bid farewell to them. — 
 
 TO ELIZABETH. 
 
 By the banks of lovely Eden, 
 By the flocks upon them feeding, 
 By yon Castle's * mould'ring tower, 
 Just at sunset's golden hour, 
 
 I'll think of thee ! 
 
 By Helvellyn's distant height, 
 Struggling through the clouds of night, 
 By stern Wildboar's gleaming brow, 
 And the silver mists below, 
 
 I'll think of thee ! 
 • Brough Castle, Westmorland,
 
 POEMS. 123 
 
 By the primrose, peeping out 
 From the hawthorn's twisted root, 
 By the fox-glove in the dell, 
 Cowslip, daisy, and blue-bell, 
 
 I'll think of thee ! 
 
 By the lark in yonder cloud, 
 By the linnets in the wood, 
 By the black-bird's mellow tone, 
 And a sweeter still — thine own, 
 
 I'll think of thee ! 
 
 LINES, 
 
 ON THE MARRIAGE OF 
 
 MISS HASELL,* OF DALEMAIN, 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 On, sweet Dalemain ! thy gem and pride 
 Comes forth in beauty blooming ; 
 
 And many bless the blushing bride, 
 And gladden at her coming. 
 
 * Married the Rev. C. Musgrave — On the day of this 
 lady's marriage, the little girls belonging to a Sunday School, 
 which she had supported, attended, all dressed alike, and 
 strewed flowers along her path as she passed to the Church — 
 vide Carlisle Patriot, September, 1825.
 
 124 poeiv:s. 
 
 Ye little maids, then bring your flowers, 
 
 And cast them at her feet ; 
 Oh, ne'er was ofPring dear as yours. 
 
 Or tribute half so sweet ! 
 
 The warrior's meed is stained with blood, 
 
 And tears upon it shine ; 
 But thou art honoured by the good, 
 
 And heaven approves of thine ! 
 
 Oh, may these fiow'rs sweet emblems prove 
 
 Of life's untrodden way ; 
 May dearer children claim thy love — 
 
 As sweetly it repay ! 
 
 CHILDHOOD'S HOME. 
 
 There is a spot we ne'er forget, 
 The earliest flower in mem'ry set — 
 My heart has never left it yet, 
 
 'Tis Childhood's Home. 
 
 There the warm sunbeam shines most bright, 
 There Cynthia smiles with softened light, 
 And sweetly glow the gems of night ; 
 
 Round Childhood's Home.
 
 POEMS. 125 
 
 There first I saw the poplar tower — 
 There first I marked the op'ning flower — 
 The sounds of music first had power, 
 
 At Childhood's Home. 
 
 Earth has no place so dear to sight — 
 
 Tell me, ye seraph sons of light, 
 
 Is ought so like your mansions bright 
 
 As Childhood's Home ? 
 
 The links that child to parent bind, 
 And all that's sacred, good, and kind, 
 Is round my thrilling heartstrings twin'd 
 
 With Childhood's Home. 
 
 Can I forget those friends that be 
 For ever sever'd now from me ; 
 Whilst ocean rolls 'twixt them and thee, 
 
 Sweet Childhood's Home ? 
 
 Oh, no ! for them the tear still flows, 
 Their worth, this bosom only knows, 
 I still have friends — but not like those 
 
 Of Childhood's Home. 
 
 The present may forgotten be — 
 The future fade from memory — 
 The past still flowers afresh in thee, 
 
 Dear Childhood's Home !
 
 126 POEMS. 
 
 " GO FORWARD IN THY MASTER'S 
 
 NAME." 
 (addressed to a young minister.) 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 He will on thy behalf appear ; 
 
 He, who the cross-devoted came, 
 
 Yearns for the souls he bought so dear. 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 
 Let sinners still thy pity share — 
 
 Let their salvation be thine aim — 
 
 Thine only aim and constant prayer. 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 To all, the living waters bring ; 
 
 The sacrifice of Christ proclaim — 
 
 See from his side salvation spring ! 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 
 Warm be thy soul with love's pure zeal— 
 Oh, whilst that zeal still glows the same, 
 
 The sinner cannot help but feel ! 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 
 His labourers are but faint and few ; — 
 
 And dimly burns devotion's flame — 
 Oh, be not thou cold-hearted too !
 
 POEMS. 127 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 
 The earth with a rich harvest waves, 
 
 The sickle bring, thy task-work claim, 
 
 And bear to Heav'n the golden sheaves. 
 
 Go forward in thy Master's name, 
 
 Till death thy bridal lamp shall trim ; 
 
 Then joyful quit thy toil-worn frame, 
 
 On I'l/c's last sigh — breaks heaven's pull 
 HYMN ! — 
 
 SURE COMFORT. 
 
 Care may my suffering heart oppress ; 
 
 Wants may increase, and means grow less ; 
 
 Riches and comfort may take wing, 
 
 And joy be dried up at its spring ; 
 
 Hope too, may veil her starry brow, 
 
 And midst life's whirlwinds fade from view ; 
 
 Health may give place to quick decline, 
 
 And weakness and disease be mine ; 
 
 These limbs may press a dying bed, 
 
 By nurse or friend unvisited ; 
 
 Relations too be all estranged, 
 
 And yearning love to hatred changed. 
 
 Sinking unheeded and alone, 
 
 All sympathy and solace gone :
 
 128 POEMS. 
 
 Snatching with fevered hands at death — 
 And grappling hard for every breath ! 
 Still midst the valley's deepest shade, 
 My soul shall triumph undismayed ; 
 One thought alone all comfort gives, 
 " / know that my Redeemer lives ! " — 
 
 THE RETROSPECT, 
 
 OR 
 
 RETURNING HOME 
 
 After an absence of several years on account of 
 ill-health. 
 
 Once more, my birth-place, yes ! once more 
 I trace thy beauties o'er and o'er, 
 Once more — Alas, why starts the tear ? 
 Can each known place be now less dear, 
 For when I used to gaze on thee 
 My heart was ever full of glee ; 
 But now though every charm appears 
 I cannot see thee — but with tears ! 
 Oh, mem'ry, mem'ry, ever true — 
 How all the past springs to my view ! 
 Unbounded feeling scorns control, 
 Hangs o'er each scene, and melts my soul.
 
 POEMS. 1-9 
 
 How oft along those banks I've rov'd — 
 This was the walk I always lov'd ! 
 There Tyne's dark waters murmur by, 
 And num'rous vessels meet the eye, 
 While lofty woods on either side 
 Wave gently o'er the rolling tide. 
 Such scenes perchance may tame appear 
 To him who daily wanders here, 
 Who never knew how absence chains 
 The heart unto its native plains, 
 Or how a wand'rer's bosom warms 
 To gaze on home, and all its charms. 
 I've ranged o'er Cumbria's towering hills, 
 And drank of her pure mountain rills ; 
 Ullswater's banks I've rambled round, 
 And heard its mystic echoes sound ; 
 On Derwentwater's trembling breast 
 I've seen the sun delighted rest ; 
 Have rov'd by beauteous Windermere, 
 Its winding shores, and waters clear ; 
 By Thames' majestic tide have strayed ; 
 And Windsor's famed retreats surveyed : 
 But, Oh, where'er my footsteps roam, 
 I find no charms to vie with home ! 
 And now, how pleasing 'tis to dwell 
 'Mid scenes in boyhood loved so well, 
 
 s
 
 ISO 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 To linger with affection's jjaze 
 On the retreats of earlier days, 
 And pause beneath the self-same tree 
 That in my childhoood waved o'er me ! 
 
 Life's earliest scenes I now survey, 
 But my companions — where are they ? — 
 No more, no more, my soul's deep sigh 
 Too well proclaims the sad reply ; 
 Oh, some are in yon Church yard lying, 
 Long have the winds been o'er them sighing, 
 For ev'n the stones that bear their name, 
 With moss o'ergrown, scarce seem the same ; 
 And one — my Henry, where art thou ? 
 Where glows thy ardent spirit iioav ? 
 Art thou on India's distant coast, 
 Or on the wide Atlantic toss'd, 
 Or is thy mortal struggle o'er ? 
 My heart forebodes — we meet no more ! 
 Alas, the friends I prized the most 
 Were ever those I soonest lost. 
 And Mary too — Oh, barb'rous Death ! 
 How couldst thou twine thy cypress wreath 
 'Midst those dear locks, which clustering hung 
 Around a brow so fair and young, 
 Like the wild harp,* when Zephyr sighs 
 And calls forth all its melodies, 
 • The yEolian Harp.
 
 POEMS. 121 
 
 Her charms woke transport through my frame, 
 
 And my heart thrill'd with Mary's name. 
 
 Oh, she was fair, and well might seem 
 
 A raptured Poet's Muse and Theme, 
 
 Her eye was of heaven's deepest blue, 
 
 Her cheeks excelled the morning's hue, 
 
 Her face with soft expression shone, 
 
 Her voice was like that harp's sweet tone 
 
 When Zephyr breaths along the strings, 
 
 With summer's fragrance on his wings ! 
 
 Alas, sweet maid, with aching breast 
 
 I linger round thy place of rest, 
 
 I gaze upon the little mound, 
 
 With blue-bell and with daisy crowned, 
 
 And sadly wish that I could share 
 
 The tranquil home of peace that's there. 
 
 Ah ! like the snow drop pure and mild, 
 
 Upon life's early spring she smiled, 
 
 But ere the summer fervours come ^ 
 
 The earth she graced becomes her tomb, f- 
 
 And the worm's dwelling — Beauty's Home ! ) 
 
 Oh, Life ! the wretch who trusts in thee 
 Clings to the deadly Upas tree, 
 Sweet is thy morn with promise beaming, 
 A thousand splendours round it streaming ; 
 Heaven seems to mix with earth awhile, 
 And triumph in its virgin smile ;
 
 132 POEMs. 
 
 But, ah, too soon th' advancing day 
 The bright illusion sweeps away, 
 And starting from our dream we see 
 Nought but a stormy waste in thee. 
 So have P seen Helvellyn * rise, 
 Cloth'd in the drap'ry of the skies, 
 When royal morn luxuriant spread 
 Her opening glories round his head, 
 When her rich robes she round him rolled, 
 And his broad bosom flamed with gold, 
 While o'er ravine, and crag, and wild 
 She sweetly blush'd or gaily smil'd ; 
 But as I nearer came to view, 
 How quickly fled each fairy hue, 
 And 'stead of scenes where beauty dwells, 
 Found dreary steeps, and pathless fells ! 
 
 TO A DEAR FRIEND, 
 
 WITH A RING. 
 
 Friend of my youth ! this pledge receive 
 
 Of Friendship warm, sincere, and tried ; 
 
 Friendship that still would to thee cleave, 
 Though all should be forgot beside f 
 
 What though thou'rt far away from me, 
 Thy faithful Henry — still the same, 
 " A 31 our. tain in Cumberland.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 133 
 
 With fond affection clings to thee, 
 
 And consecrates with tears thy name. 
 
 Friend of my youth ! though severed far 
 
 And varied as our lot may he ; 
 Still memory, like a guiding star, 
 
 Shall oft direct my thoughts to thee. 
 
 This simple ring may cause a sigh, 
 
 And haply too may sometimes tend 
 
 To mind thee of the days gone by, 
 
 And him, thy loved, but distant friend. 
 
 Perchance these lines thou may'st peruse, 
 When I shall think no more of thee ; 
 
 When death shall triumph o'er the muse, 
 And earth my silent dwelling be. 
 
 Yet, Oh, when smiling spring is near, 
 
 Pause o'er the scene of childhood's hours 
 
 The primrose-bank to thee be dear — 
 
 The primrose was our best of flowers ! 
 
 Oh, gaze upon each flow'ry gem, 
 
 And let thy full heart sometimes rest 
 
 On him who oft has gathered them, 
 
 To deck thy dear and lovely breast. 
 
 But, Mary ! weep no more for me ; 
 
 Nor o'er the mem'ry of the past :—
 
 134 POEMS. 
 
 Thy tears I could not bear to see — 
 
 Oh, still my heart aches at thy last ! 
 
 THE FRATRICIDE. 
 
 The scene of the following Poem is laid at 
 Brackenbar, near Appleby, in Westmorland, 
 where a Fratricide was believed to have been 
 committed, about twenty years ago ; and many 
 absurd stories are still told (and firmly believed 
 in the neighbourhood) of ghosts, flames, &c., 
 being seen at night near the reputed murderer's 
 dwelling. 
 
 'Twas on a wild and dreary night, 
 As o'er bleak Brackenbar I hied, 
 
 No friendly planet lent its light 
 
 The wand'rer's lonely steps to guide. 
 
 The gath'ring mists round High-cap close, 
 And Murton-pike, too, slept in clouds, 
 
 "While the long swell of night winds rose 
 
 From distant Flakebrigg's gloomy woods. 
 
 The laden clouds swung slowly by, 
 And like a vast portcullis hung ; 
 
 The lightning glared along the sky, 
 No thunder-peal its message rung.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 135 
 
 The Moorland Tarn I hurried past, 
 
 The curlew screamed above my head, 
 
 And on the pennons of the blast 
 
 Came murmurs hoarse and sounds of dread. 
 
 When from the summit of the moor, 
 
 On which the gathered clouds seem'd based, 
 
 A light broke on that fearful hour, 
 
 A beacon 'midst the dang'rous waste. 
 
 With quickened step I forward strained, 
 
 And near the wished-for dwelling drew, 
 
 But ere the friendly door I gained 
 
 A vision strange engrossed my view. 
 
 For issuing thence with frantic cry 
 
 A being sprang with headlong bound, 
 
 He gazed upon the scowling sky, 
 
 And powerless sank upon the ground. 
 
 But soon reviving — on his knees 
 
 He groaned out " Cain," and trembling bent ; 
 Hushed was the storm and stilled the breeze, 
 
 The parting clouds above him rent ; 
 
 And from the chasm the thunder-flame 
 
 Flashed its dread terrors round his form, 
 The bursting shower in big drops came, 
 
 Oh, then rushed forth the loosened storm.
 
 136 POEMS. 
 
 He started up in wild despair, 
 
 Then sank again upon his knee — 
 
 What means that dark mysterious prayer 
 
 " Oh, turn that dreadful face from me ! " 
 
 Again the voice of thunder pealed, 
 
 Again the fire-flash crossed the sky, 
 
 The giant mountains stood revealed, 
 
 And tossed their troubled heads on high. 
 
 With with'ring power that fire-flash gleamed, 
 Black Flakebrigg rolled like ocean's waves, 
 
 And long and loud the echoes screamed — 
 The shock had rent their rocky caves ! 
 
 Fiercer and wilder grew the ire, 
 
 The clouds shot down a dread cascade, 
 
 And as they writhed their tongues of fire 
 Far back recoiled the affrighted shade. 
 
 Yet moveless 'mid a scene so dread, 
 
 Still the strange being bent his knee, 
 
 " Oh, cursed be his land," he said, 
 
 " See how he gasps — and points at me ! " 
 
 No more could reeling sense sustain, 
 
 Powerless I dropp'd upon the waste, 
 
 And ere remembrance came again, 
 
 The wretch was gone — the storm was past ;
 
 POEMS. 137 
 
 And through the curtains of the sky 
 
 The sickly stars were peeping forth. 
 
 The pilgrim moon had climb'd on high. 
 As if she shunn'd the troubled earth. 
 
 Oh, conscience, conscience, power divine, 
 How guilt before thee shrinks aghast ! 
 
 And storms are ministers of thine, 
 
 To warn, to menace, or to blast. — 
 
 Murton-pike and High-cap— hills in the neighbourhood. 
 Flakebrigg— an extensive wood belonging to the Karl of 
 Thanet The Moorland Tarn— a large pond on Brackenbar 
 Common. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY M. AND It. BRANT11WA1TE, KENDAL.
 
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