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it avoids many popular objections. I keep temporals and spirituals entirely separate; and hence can never be accused of designing to unite Church and State. I keep everything in its place, and have appropriate modes of reasoning for each particular department, thus giving to each a portion in due season.

I have thus expressed myself freely, and have given my views without reserve; and I trust that I shall not be discarded for my frankness, or be pronounced an infidel. It is true that I reject revelation, but why should I be denied the Christian name on that account, any more than others?

C. H.

ART. VII-POETICAL CONTRIBUTIONS.

I. THE SNOW.

THE Snow has come: o'er field and hill
Its fleecy mantle wide is thrown;
And winter's breezes, stern and chill,
Through leafless branches sadly moan.

Hush'd is the song in every grove,
And fled the warblers far away;
Forgot their spring-told tale of love,
Amid December's ruder lay.

Each little flower, that late so fair
Was mirrored in the passer's eye,
All wither'd lies. Alas! the rare,
The beautiful live but to die.

O say not so. The cold, cold grave
May shut them from our earthly view;
But He, th' All-powerful to save,
Doth point us to their glory too.

Believe each season, as it goes,
A lesson brings for us to know;
Perhaps 't will speak of present woes-
Perchance some future bliss foreshow.

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Then hail! thou wintry robe of white!
Fair messenger of swift decay!

What though thou tell'st of waning light;
Thou heraldest a brighter day.

267

W. V.

II. A PARABLE.

From the German of Frederick Rackert.

BEFORE the Sultan's throne appears
The mewlana, with lowly brow.

"Thy wisdom's fame hath reached mine ears;
Then answer me one question now.
Four several sects, well knowest thou,
My faithful Mussulmans divide;
Without delay, then, tell me now,

With which doth Allah's favor side?
By which of these four pathways, say,
Shall dust attain to Allah's throne?
In doubt I've waited till this day,
Now let the certainty be known."
The Sultan spake, and waited, dumb.
The mewlana gazed silently

A moment round the audience-room,

And then he said, with bended knee :
"Thou in whose throne the faithful race
The throne of Heaven reflected see,
Protect me with thy shield of grace,
Then shall my answer be to thee.
Thou sit'st enthroned here in a hall
To which four doors thy slaves admit,
And all thy splendor bursts on all,
Through whichsoe'er they enter it.
That I did not mistake the way,
Thy messenger the praise must claim ;
And, dazzled by the bright display,

I know not, now, which way I came."

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C. T. B.

III. INVOCATION.

UNSHEATH thy sword, Orion! let it flash
Athwart the firmament. Ye Sisters six,
No longer mourn the lost Merope! Earth-
For love of which she veiled her starry brow,
And faded dimly in the distance-earth
Hath cast her off, and she comes back to heaven.
Stay in your starry course, ye hosts of heaven!
Look upon earth- the bright- the beautiful—
The God-created earth, and quench with tears
The fire which man is kindling. And, O Thou!
Eternal Source of life and light, stretch forth
Thine arm omnipotent-in mercy save

The work of thine own hands. Man hath gone mad!
In vain the heralds of thy Son proclaim
Tidings of peace, in vain their hands uplift

The banner of the Cross! Man heeds them not,
Or heeds them but to scoff. He talks of war
As of a pastime; and, with fiendish joy,
Makes haste to treat his brother as his foe,
And crush with iron heel into the dust
The image of his Maker. Prince of Peace!
Were all thy promises but idle words?
Was Calvary sprinkled with thy blood in vain?
Is night still resting on thy sepulchre ?

Father! our hearts are failing us for fear.
We fly to thee for succor. Lift thou up
The sunlight of thy countenance, and cause
The spirit of thy Son to walk across

The troubled waters; then shall all be calm

And hushed to peace. Speed on the day when men,
No longer slaves to ignorance and sin,

Shall learn to war and fight no more; when earth,
Hallowed in all her borders, shall take up

The angels' song and peal it back to heaven:-
"Glory to God on high; peace, peace on earth,
Good-will toward man!" O, let thy kingdom come!
For thine the kingdom is, and thine the power,
And to thy name be glory evermore!

C.

1846.]

The Tree of Life.

269

IV.

THE TREE OF LIFE.

From the German of Rückert.

WHEN Father Adam lay at his last groan,
He sent to Paradise his faithful son,
A twig to fetch him from the Tree of Life,

Whereby he hoped recovery might be won.
Seth plucked the twig and brought it home, but lo!
Our Father's ghost, with his last breath, had flown.
Then planted they the twig on Adam's grave,
And so from son to son 't was handed down.
It grew, when in the pit young Joseph lay,

When Egypt's taskmasters made Israel groan. That tree put forth its blossoms fragrantly,

When David, harping, sate upon his throne. Dry was the tree, when, in his wisdom, erred From the Lord's way the sage king Solomon. Yet every generation hoped to see

Its life renewed in David's greater Son. Faith saw that day, in spirit, when she sate

In sorrow by the floods of Babylon.

And when the eternal lightning flashed from heaven,
Then burst the tree with high exultant tone.
God's grace had chose its withered stock to be

The passion-wood, to stretch his Christ upon.

The blind world hewed its timber to a cross,
And slew, with scorn, its own dear hope thereon.
Then did the tree of life bear bloody fruit,

That whoso tasted, life should be his own.
O Freimund, look! despite the storms of time,
How high and broad the tree of life hath grown.
Its shadow falls e'en now on half the world;
When shall the whole its grateful shelter own!

C. T. B.

VOL. XL.

-4TH. S. VOL. V. NO. II.

24

ART. VIII. MEMOIR OF HENRY WARE.*

THE book which has been so earnestly desired, is now in the hands of the many friends of Henry Ware. It has been read and approved. Undoubtedly there may be different opinions as to its execution, though we have heard of few exceptions to the general expression of grateful satisfaction. The book is not an eulogy, and none could wish it to be. It would not have comported with the character of the subject, or the relation of the writer. And this last may have prevented other features, which some would have been glad to see. The delicacy of a brother would naturally temper much of the ardor of expression, which another might have indulged. Yet while the ardor glows in every heart that knew Henry Ware, the very thought of him, in all his meekness and habitual moderation, does of itself forbid us to utter the half of what we feel, and we even thank the biographer that he has left so much unuttered. But all cannot be repressed. We must utter some of our feeling, not only for the man, but also for the Memoir. It does seem to us a most successful effort, and appropriate tribute. This conviction is strengthened by a second perusal. It is precisely the book which one would I wish to make for a brother, and such a brother. It is a book, which, we believe, Henry Ware himself, with all his severity of judgment as well as sensitiveness of nature, would approve. Flattery he abhorred, and there is none here. Extravagance he always avoided, and scrupulously has his biographer avoided it, even where it might have been pardoned. But we value the Memoir, yet more, for its usefulness. It will do good-and then will it accomplish the great object, for which he, whom it delineates, lived and labored. The earnest declarations which we have heard, as to the impression it makes, from some not apt to feel or speak thus, the interest it is calculated to awaken in those least familiar with its facts, the high yet reasonable and attainable mark to which it points the young minister, and every Christian believer, the vast results which it gradually exhibits by the very narrative of events, in its calm tone and just

* Memoir of the Life of Henry Ware, jr. By his Brother, JOHN Ware, M. D. Boston: Munroe & Co. 1846. 12mo. pp. 484.

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