vation and comprehension of mind which it inspires in its sound professors, like my friend. Christians are bound to assert this in opposition to the debased account given by its enemies: and to insist, that, however this " light of life" must humble them as fallen creatures before God, yet it instructs and animates them to rise above the world in which they live, and become superior to their former selves.

This is order: the man and his concerns take their right place. It is elevation: such an one dwells on high. It is emancipation: not the pretended one of philosophy, which, like the quack, drives the external symptoms of a disease from the skin, and fixes it more deeply in the vitals: and much less that of the enthusiast, who dreams of heavenly gifts and special privileges, while he refuses to submit to the order and sanction of a heavenly rule of life. The ascendant spirit, which Bacon derived from his religion, had no affinity with the pride, self-confidence, and affected singularity of these two characters.

Elegant in his manners, and rational in his mind as a man, diligent and superior as an artist, he dared to differ from the world, so far as that world dared to differ from its God. Choose ye, said he, by his conduct as well as words, this day whom ye will serve; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord: Joshua, xxiv, 15.

But, in order to estimate the superiority with which true piety elevates a Christian, we must not compare and contrast him with men evidently degraded by their vices, but with men in similar situations with his own. Bacon must be placed with men of genius, affluence, and taste; who, surrounded by the choicest productions of the arts which they most admire, are deeply interested in them both by their feelings and their fame. We shall then see, not only to what degree pure religion will lift a man above the meaner, but the more refined gratifications. This

comparison, however, is not advanced to the prejudice of the arts, as such; but rather to show the superiority of religion, and the elevating effect which it has on the minds of those who pay it that homage it so justly demands. Let every excellence have its just claim and place, for this is but order; and that order too which religion itself will sanction. Let us render to genius the things which belong to genius, and to God the things that are God's, and all will be right.

As an artist, that which Bacon set his hand to, he did with all his might: as a philosopher, he smiled at his own pursuits and attainments, and at the admiration and expense which attended them: but, as a Christian, he could not help pitying those devotees who seemed absorbed in his performances. Such of his friends as could comprehend and rightly estimate his sentiments, have frequently known him to express this in a variety of ways. He traced the root of this sad mistake up to the fall of man, who possessing, in his alienated state, no more valuable consideration in hand or in prospect, spends his thoughts and money for that which is not bread. Man in his maturity, like man in his infancy, feeling nothing substantial whereon his heart can rest, follows his tired fancy from object to object, and in his way calls upon the artist to help him. "Upon what principle, then," said I to him, "do you continually labour to meet the taste of such sickly wanderers?" "I consider," said he, "that profession in which I am providentially placed, and have prosperously and honourably succeeded, to be as lawful as any other that is not concerned in furnishing the necessaries of life. Besides which, part of it, especially the monumental, may be employed to an important moral purpose. But the truth is, if the work itself be innocent, the workman I hope is not accountable for the abuse made of it: and, as the world will have not only its necessaries, but its toys, may as well be the toyman as any other."

1

Marking the indifference with which he often discoursed of his art, I once mentioned it to him; and at the same time, told him a story or two which I had heard of the enthusiasm of Roubiliac: an enthusiasm which, by the bye, was never accounted a defect in an artist. He answered, that as he felt it not to that extent, he could not express it-that, if he worked on a thousand blocks, they remained but dead forms-that a spark of even natural life, which he could not produce, seemed to exceed them all; and added, that persons of my order might rather excite wonder, who, when they were appointed to be the means of conveying life, both spiritual and eternal, to rational creatures, were too often found talking so coolly and indifferently about it.

One cannot wonder to hear such a man as Bacon speak thus, all things considered; since objects to us are great or small by comparison. A native of the South Seas will fix his attention upon ornaments of bones and shells, while the European, pitying his simplicity, will continue to esteem and secure his jewels. But the Scriptures teach the Christian to rise still higher they show him a pearl of great price, and teach him to account every thing but as loss in comparison of it. It is then that he looks at man as the Psalmist did; and, finding the poverty and absolute bankruptcy of his present state, he turns to God and his word, saying, Now, Lord, what wait I for? My hope is in thee. Like the philosopher of old, he knows he has found the thing he sought; and, though the many may still be crying around him, Who will show us any good? he feels it the present reward of a sound profession, that he can cry supnka!

66

*

"He who stands on a height," says a shrewd observer, sees further than those who are placed in a bottom; but let him not fancy that he shall make them believe all he sees." Superficial thinkers, who

* Psalm xxxix.

heard Bacon express sentiments so remote from their own, and were unacquainted with his feeling and cheerfulness, might imagine they proceeded from insensibility or melancholy: but it would be well if they would consider, that such sentiments were the natural result of a mind realising and embracing infinitely greater things-things, which, when thus realised to the mind, must make that mind feel the little gems of time as comparatively insignificant; though it soberly and scripturally resolved to preserve for them that place they ought to occupy.

Far from religious zeal, however grand its object, be the fanaticism which would burn an Alexandrian library, mutilate a production of genius, or attempt to remove it from the place it ought to hold among rationals. Blind fury is not Christian zeal; nor tasteless vulgarity pure religion: nor should the absurdities which have grown upon it, like excrescences on a beautiful human face, be associated with its real symmetry, as set forth in its standard the SCRIPTURES. Let the objector show any thing of this kind sanctioned by that standard, and then he will bind us either to show that he mistakes the sense, or we must yield to the argument. Against all superstitious or fanatical inventions in religion, we are as ready as our opposers to protest; but, perhaps it might moderate the eagerness with which some bring forward these excrescences, if they would attend to a weighty remark of one who cannot be suspected of favouring fanaticism.

"Whilst the infidel mocks at the superstitions of the vulgar, insults over their credulous fears, their childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not occur to him to observe, that the most preposterous device, by which the weakest devotee ever believed he was securing the happiness of a future life, is more rational than unconcern about it. Upon this subject nothing

is so absurd as indifference-no folly so contemptible as thoughtlessness and levity."*

But to return: I expect the sanguine amateur will object to the sentiments which have been expressed. I know the subject is delicate, the treatment unpopular:

Periculosa plenum opus alex
Tractas; et incedis per ignes
Suppositos cineri doloso,

and I imagine I see some future offended orator rise up; and, taking the fine arts for his subject, I hear him expatiating upon them as the ornaments of a nation-as a standard of its improvement-as not only drawing forth the powers of the mind, but as evidences of its vast capacity. He shows the multitudes of individuals they support-the innocent pleasure they afford-the high patronage they have had-the immortality they have conferred-the superior taste of their admirers, the degraded minds of others, &c. &c. &c. We applaud the discourse:-we are satisfied with our fixing upon what is so truly excellent and sublime and, pitying those duller mortals who cannot rise superior to the notions and creeds brought from their nurseries, we cry, "Let the arts flourish!"

But a little calmer consideration is necessary here: for, allowing this declamation of our orator to be a fair, yet, is it a full statement of the matter before us? Having mentioned a further view of the subject as expressed by my late invaluable friend, may I not, on a review, be allowed to offer a few observations in vindication of it? For, as to the abuse of the arts, in inflaming the passions, administering to superstition, or insulting devotion, morality, or lawful government, it is too gross to need animadversion.

If, after such warm panegyrics on the fine arts, a thinking man perceives their comparative excellence hoisted beyond its limits in the moral scale-if he ob

Paley's Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Vol. II, p. 100.