Now had he seen her in her winding sheet,
Less painful would that spectacle have proved;
For peace is with the dead, and piety
Bringeth a patient hope to those who mourn
O'er the departed: but this alter'd face,
Bearing its deadly sorrow character'd,

Came to him like a ghost, which in the grave
Could find no rest. He, taking her cold hand,
Raised her, and would have spoken; but his tongue
Fail'd in its office, and could only speak
In under tones compassionate her name.
The voice of pity sooth'd and melted her;
And when the Prince bade her be comforted,
Proffering his zealous aid in whatsoe'er
Might please her to appoint, a feeble smile
Past slowly over her pale countenance,
Like moonlight on a marble statue. Heaven
Requite thee, Prince! she answer'd. All I ask
Is but a quiet resting-place, wherein

A broken heart, in prayer and humble hope,
May wait for its deliverance.' pp. 110, 111.

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Of the other characters in this Epic Tragedy we need not particularly speak. Siverian, who has married Roderick's mother, is the principal one, and acts a suitable part.

The descriptive passages of this poem, are, perhaps, the most perfectly pleasing; and the mind of the reader, sick of carnage, tumult, and devastation, reposes gladly on these, when they open with refreshing sweetness around him. Many are the pictures of moonlight by poets of every nation; a lovelier than the following was never presented. The allusion to the stars, which, few in number, and diminished to points, on such a night,' appear immeasurably further distant than when they shine through total darkness, the allusion to these, in connexion with their elevating influence, forms one of those rare and exquisite associations of natural imagery with moral sentiment, which constitute the essence of the purest poetry.

How calmly gliding through the dark blue sky
The midnight Moon ascends! Her placid beams,
Through thinly scatter'd leaves and boughs grotesque,
Mottle with mazy shades the orchard slope;
Here, o'er the chesnut's fretted foliage grey
And massy, motionless they spread; here shine
Upon the crags, deepening with blacker night
Their chasms; and there the glittering argentry
Ripples and glances on the confluent streams.
A lovelier, purer light than that of day
Rests on the hills; and oh how awfully
Into that deep and tranquil firmament
The summits of Auseva rise serene!

The watchman on the battlements partakes
The stillness of the solemn hour; he feels
The silence of the earth, the endless sound
Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars,
Which in that brighest moon-light well-nigh quench'd,
Scarce visible, as in the utmost depth

Of yonder sapphire infinite, are seen,
Draw on with elevating influence
Toward eternity the attemper d mind.

Musing on worlds beyond the grave he stands,
And to the Virgin Mother silently

Breathes forth her hymn of praise.' pp. 175, 176.

We were startled, at the opening of the sixteenth section, by an address to the Virgin Mary, which, from the lips of Roderick, or Pelayo, might have been very well, but from a Protestant poet in his own character, is intolerable, and what no licence of his art, in our apprehension, will justify.

Much fault, no doubt, will be found with the conduct of the fable. We have no space left to anticipate what others may say, but for ourselves we freely confess, that the poem produced its strongest effects upon us rather at intervals, than in gradation. It abounds with dramatic scenes, which, in point of situation, grouping, character, and dialogue, may challenge any thing of the kind in English poetry. Among these we may particularize the meeting between Florinda and Roderick, when, as her confessor, she tells him all the secrets of her heart, unsuspected by him before; the first interview between Roderick in disguise, and his mother; the scene in which Florinda brings Roderick, still unknown to her, into the Moorish camp, and introduces him to her father, Count Julian. None of these, however, surpass in pathos or mystery the death of the latter, who, previously to the last battle, is basely stabbed by a Moor, and carried to a little chapel, dedicated to St. Peter, that he may die in peace. We have purposely omitted giving any extracts from the foregoing, because they ought to be read entire, and we wished to make a copious quotation here, as a fair specimen of the Author's powers. Roderick, as father Maccabee, still unsuspected by Florinda and Count Julian, receives the confession and renunciation of errors, from the expiring apostate, according to the Roman Catholic faith, with the orthodoxy of which we have nothing to do in this instance.

The dying Count

Then fix'd upon the Goth his earnest eyes.
No time, said he, is this for bravery,
As little for dissemblance. I would fain
Die in the faith wherein my fathers died,

Whereto they pledged me in mine infancy..:
A soldier's habits, he pursued, have steel'd
My spirit, and perhaps I do not fear
This passage as I ought. But if to feel
That I have sinn'd, and from my soul renounce
The Impostor's faith, which never in that soul
Obtain'd a place,.. if at the Saviour's feet,
Laden with guilt, to cast myself and cry,
Lord, I believe! help thou my unbelief!..
If this in the sincerity of death
Sufficeth,..father, let me from thy lips
Receive the assurances with which the Church
Doth bless the dying Christian

Roderick raised

His eyes to Heaven, and crossing on his breast
His open palms, Mysterious are thy ways
And merciful, O gracious Lord! he cried,
Who to this end hast thus been pleased to lead
My wandering steps! O Father, this thy son
Hath sinn'd and gone astray; but hast not Thou
Said, when the sinner from his evil ways
Turneth, that he shall save his soul alive,
And Angels at the sight rejoice in Heaven!
Therefore do I, in Thy most holy name,
Into thy family receive again

Him who was lost, and in that name absolve
The Penitent.... So saying, on the head
Of Julian solemnly he laid his hands.
Then to the altar tremblingly he turn'd,
And took the bread, and breaking it, pursued,
Julian! receive from me the Bread of Life!
In silence reverently the Count partook
The reconciling rite and to his lips
Roderick then heid the consecrated cup.
Me too! exclaim'd Florinda, who till then
Had listen'd speechlessly: Thou Man of God,

I also must partake! The Lord hath heard

My prayers! one sacrament,.. one hour,..one grave, .. One resurrection!

That dread office done,

Count Julian with amazement saw the Priest
Kneel down before him. By the sacrament
Which we have here partaken, Roderick cried,
In this most aweful moment; by that hope,,.
That holy faith which comforts thee in death,
Grant thy forgiveness, Julian, ere thou diest!
Behold the man who most hath injured thee!
Roderick, the wretched Goth, the guilty cause
Of all thy guilt, . . the unworthy instrument
Of thy redemption, .. kneels before thee here,
And prays to be forgiven!

Roderick! exclaim'd

The dying Count,. . Roderick!.. and from the floor
With violent effort half he raised himself;

The spear hung heavy in his side, and pain
And weakness overcame him, that he fell
Back on his daughter's lap. O Death, cried he,..
Passing his hand across his cold damp brow, .
Thou tamest the strong limb and conquerest
The stubborn heart! But yesterday I said
One Heaven could not contain mine enemy
And me; and now I lift my dying voice
To say, Forgive me, Lord, as I forgive

Him who hath done the wrong!.. He closed his eyes
A moment; then with sudden impulse cried,..
Roderick, thy wife is dead,.. the Church hath power
To free thee from thy vows, the broken heart

Might yet be heal'd, the wrong redress'd, the throne
Rebuilt by that same hand which pull'd it down,
And these curst Africans...Oh for a month

Of that waste life which millions misbestow!..
His voice was passionate, and in his eye
With glowing animation while he spake
The vehement spirit shone: its effort soon
Was past, and painfully with feeble breath
In slow and difficult utterance he pursued,..
Vain hope, if all the evil was ordain'd,

And this wide wreck the will and work of Heaven,
We but the poor occasion! Death will make
All clear, and joining us in better worlds,
Complete our union there! Do for me now
One friendly office more:..draw forth the spear
And free me from this pain!... Receive his soul,
Saviour! exclaim'd the Goth, as he perform'd
The fatal service. Julian cried, O friend!-
True friend!..and gave to him his dying hand.
Then said he to Florinda, I go first,

Thou followest!.. kiss me, child!.. and now good night!
When from her father's body she arose,

Her cheek was flush'd, and in her eyes there beam'd
A wilder brightness. On the Goth she gazed,
While underneath the emotions of that hour
Exhausted life gave way. O God! she said,
Lifting her hands, thou hast restored me all,..
All..in one hour!...and round his neck she threw
Her arms and cried, My Roderick! mine in Heaven!
Groaning, he claspt her close, and in that act
And agony her happy spirit filed.' pp. 309-313.

Art. IV. Discourses on the Principal Points of the Socinian Controversy. By Ralph Wardlaw, Glasgow, 8vo. pp. viii. 441. Price 10s. Hamilton, 1814.

(Concluded from Page 253.)

THE sixth discourse is on the Test of Truth.' After an elaborate discussion of the preceding subjects, in which there are continual references to a test already established, we were surprised to find this discourse introduced. Mr. Wardlaw seems aware of its appearing an illogical arrangement, and assigns the following reason for it.

The previous discussion, it occurred to me, of one at least of the principal points of controversy, might furnish ready and appropriate illustrations of the principles which are now to be laid down;-illustrations, which could not otherwise have been easily obtained, without awkward and embarrassing anticipation In this way, the argument which has already been closed, will afford means of elucidating the principles on which it has itself been conducted, and of demonstrating the rectitude of these principles, so that we may apply them with the greater confidence, to the topics of future consideration.' p. 163.

With this reason, we are not satisfied. It is obviously requisite in the beginning of any controversy, to settle (if it can be settled,) the standard of reference, beyond which there shall be no appeal, and the testimony of which shall be considered decisive It appears to us far more awkward and embarrassing,' to reason on principles yet to be proved, and which are all along taken for granted, than to intermingle in the very discussion of such principles, occasional allusions, for the sake of illustration, to the points depending on them, as their ultimate authority. But Mr. W. has himself proved, that such a previous discussion is practicable; and that the test of truth' may be ascertained without any awkward anticipations. We can find no reasoning in this sixth discourse, which would in the least degree confound the reader, who should venture to place it first in the series. If, (and we have no doubt that it will be the case) another edition be called for, we would recommend the Author to alter the collocation; and, omitting the first раragraph, make it the introductory discourse.'

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Should such an improved arrangement be adopted, we would recommend, an ampler illustration of the province of human reason in theological inquiries. What is said, is highly satisfactory; but a more expanded and minute detail is desirable; and particularly in reference to the Socinian Controversy. The subtle and ambidextrous ingenuity of Socinians in evading an argument resting ultimately on scriptural authority; their professed respect for that authority, notwithVOL. III. N'S.

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