Worlds behind worlds, in vast profusion spread, Behold our earth-how wonderfully made! Why then, when forms material smile around, O book of books, in thy celestial laws, Explore the world-from infancy to age, See to yon destined plain, in proud array, The rival legions slowly win their way! In front, besprinkled round, videttes appear; While creaking wagons lumber in the rear. Host after host, with solemn tread they come, To the shrill fife and thought-suppressing drum, Whilst high in air their crimson banners float, The braying trumpet mingles in its note. They form the silent line; in youthful pride From rank to rank commission'd heralds ride : "Tis done-they are prepared-the signal given, Along the varying wave of war is driven. Forth from the park incessant flashes shine, And rating muskets crack along the line; The field presents, 'midst growing noise and ire, One cloud of smoke, one burning sheet of fire; At length, inspired in closer strife to mix, On their hot guns their glittering points they fix Here the fresh tides of vital carnage flow, They form the wedge and charge the trembling foe; In softer life, where gentler manners reign, But there's a deeper crime; all hearts must own r; True, man may smile, and social life appear In this condition, where atllictions roll, And strange-voiced demons shriek'd around his shrouds, And even the treacherous needle left the pole ; And none could gather where the voyage could end; Till just as watery ruin threatened there, ETERNAL BEING, whose pervading breath, When Spring, revived, bedecks her grassy shrine, Are faint reflections of thy brighter face. Could these illumined eyes, more vigorous grown, When wretched man on rising waves was toss'd, On two eternal pillars must repose, Our GUILT and MISERY; when for these we grieve, Our fears, hopes, sorrows, force us to believe; For who can question, when his sufferings cease, God sinks to man that man may soar to God! So in the cell where stern afflictions prey, The prisoner weeps his lingering nights away; Through that dark grate, whose iron chords so fast, Have been the lyre to many a midnight blast ; Through that dark grate, the evening sun may shine, And gild his walls with crimson light divine; Some mournful melody may soothe his pain, Some radiant beams may sparkle round his chain; Some wandering wind in mercy may repair, And waft the incense of the blossoms there. To the Editor of the Christian Spectator. XAVIER'S LATIN ODE. THE following Ode, in Monastic Latin rhyme, is from the pen of the celebrated missionary to the East Francis Xavier. Though nominally a papist, and officially a preacher of the corps of the propaganda, he is judged by many excellent protestants to have cared much less for the Spiritual Tyrant of Rome and his earthy domination, than for the Spiritual Majesty on the throne of heaven, "the blessed and only Potentate," the rightful Lord and sole Supreme Head of the Universal Church. He is described as a man burning with celestial zeal in the cause of Jesus Christ, and who, whatever were his defects, through a lite of consistent, and voluntary, and self-denying service, almost without a parallel since the first century, habitually and practically sustained the char acter, with its honours and its wounds, of "a good soldier of Jesus Christ." It is grateful to our best feelings; it accords with our purest Christian catholi cism; it is homogeneous with the unearthly character and peerless excellency of the communion of saints, to recognise in him a son of light, a friend of God, nd one of the saints in heaven, be ter canonized in eterni ty than in time, and in the New Je Some write it Jerome Xavier; perhaps his name included both. The facts of this sketch are written from general memory, and with a pledge only of their substantial authenticity and correctness. rusalem than in the old city of abominations. The excellent and more luminously gifted protestant missionary, Henry Martyn, when at Goa, made a pilgrimage of truly catholic piety, to the sepulchre of the saint, to worship, however, not the undistinguishable dust of his "dishonoured" body, but the incorruptible God who was "glorified in him." cu If I may trust to the general impressions of memory for some further notices of his history, a ere are present or procurable n ments to which I may refer for more authentic details, and though twelve years have passed since the reading, (then too cursory,) on which I must depend, I will adventure some further statement, which may serve to increase the interest, perhaps aid the comprehension of the reader of the ode. Xavier be longed to an age bordering to that of Calvin and Luther, as it is more than two centuries since his death. He was first known in early life for distinction in scholarship, and as a public professor and lecturer at one of the continental universities. Loyola, the celebrated founder of the order of Jesuits, his senior in years, but far his inferior in attainments, attended his instructions. He was struck with the powers and the promise of the youth, and instantly conceived the idea of converting him; which he soon instrumentally accomplished. Whether his conversion was at first genuine or not, certain it is that bis zeal was heroical and illustrious. With a decision like that of Paul, he immediately preached Christ, and avowed his superlative glorying in the cross. He forewent all the worldly preferments that were crowding and crowning his prospects for life. He left the university, and addicted himself to the studies and duties of his new and sacred pursuit. Shortly after this, he endured ridicule in the cause, and had trial of "cruel mockings," which to some minds are more terrible than "bonds and imprisonment." Heb. xi. 36. The world regarded him as a lunatic, and his colleagues of the university, feeling perhaps reproved by his example, and condemned by his piety, were wont to report him "mad with the love of God." In reference to these graceless calumnies he composed the ode; with a view to his own vindication less than to exhibit the nature, the grounds, and the reasonableness of his cordiality as a disciple of Christ. It is however a very honorable and satisfactory vindication of affectionate and devoted piety, in all ages and instances of its development. A similar slander induced Paul to say on one occasion: "I am not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the king knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him; for this thing was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest." Acts xxvi. 25-27. As on another occasion he wrote, "For whether we be beside ourselves, it is unto God; or whether we be sober, it is for your cause. For the love of Christ CONSTRAINETH us; because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead: and that he died for all, that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him that died for them and rose again" 2. Cor. v. 13-15. After an introduction so indeliberately protracted, begging pardon for the trespass, we copy from memory, as we cannot from print, the ODE. O Deus, ego amo te! Tu, tu, mi Jesu! totum me Ac mortem! et haec propter me, Cur igitur non amem te For the benefit of your Engself, Mr. Editor, with no better verlish readers, if you can suit yoursion, the following almost metaphrastic translation is subjoined, and at your service. O God! in truth I love thy name, Thou, thou, my Jesus! totally The griefs unnumber'd, bloody sweats, } I am not scandalized at the disinterestedness of his sentiments, and sincerely wish that all the men in the world were "Rot only almost, |