First of their order, as in rank and fame
Superior, Upsal's haughty prelate came;
Erect in priestly pride, he stalk'd along,
And tower'd supreme o'er all the princely throng.
A soul congenial, and a mind replete
With ready artifice and bold deceit,

To suit a tyrant's ends, however base,
In Christiern's friendship had secured his place.
His were the senator's and courtier's parts,
And all the statesman's magazine of arts;
His, each expedient, each all-powerful wile,
To thwart a foe, or win a monarch's smile.'
Again,

، But Providence, whose undiscover'd plan,
Lies deeper than the wiliest schemes of man,
Can bare the sly designer's latent guilt,
And crush to dust the structures he has built;
Can disappoint the subtle tyrant's spite,
And stem the billows of his stormy might;
Confound a Trollio's skill, a Christiern's power,
And blast presumption in its haughtiest hour.
So Christiern found—and Trollio found it true,
(Unwelcome truth, to his experience new!)
That he, who trusts in guilty friendship, binds

His fortune to a cloud, that shifts with veering winds.

The other portraits are painted in the same manner, and their speeches are somewhat faithfully imitated from those of Saint Stephen's Chapel. The second book then opens with the eternal and sempiternal soliloquies of Ernestus and Harfagar in prison. Mr. Walker could not resist an address to Sleep which, since the summary praise bestowed on it by Sancho Pança, has become one of the most dangerous of all subjects; and we have observed that few young persons, or ladies, can prevail on themselves to pass this topic in silence.

Perhaps, the transition from the scene around Mora to Gustavus Vasa, who is represented as reclining under a tree near the house of his friend the pastor, and retracing former events in his mind, is one of the most favourable specimens of the author's equable powers. It occurs in book the third :

"Twas now the time, when sober evening sheds
Her dusky mantle o'er the grassy meads:
Nor yet the pale stars trembled thro' the trees,
Nor sparkling quiver'd on the inconstant seas;
Nor yet the moon illumed the solemn scene :
The fields were silent, and the heavens serene.
The sheep had sought the fold; nor yet arose
Night's listless bird from her dull day's repose.
When in a vale with shadowy firs replete,
Whose broad boughs rustled thro' the dark retreat,
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Beneath

Beneath a pine that sunk to slow decay,
Unseen, Gustavus pass'd the hours away.
From earliest morn, ere day's third glass was run,
The chief had mused, nor mark'd the rising sun:
And the retiring day appear'd as just begun.
Each flattering argument his mind revolved,
Each gleam of patriot hope yet undissolved,
Traced to its dubious source each meteor-light,
'Till the last spark went out, and all was night.
Convinced at length, he spoke : the woods around
With solemn awe return'd the mournful sound;
And souls of patriots listen'd from on high,
Uncertain yet of Sweden's destiny.

"Yes, thou must fall! oh once o'er earth renown'd,
Queen of the North, with choicest blessings crown'd,
While martial glory waited on thy voice,

And wealth and power seem'd rivals for thy choice!
Ye fond survivors of a ruined state,

Here quit, at length, your hopes of happier fate,
And view your country's fix'd unalterable date!
You were not made to fear a tyrant's frown,
To gild with tributary wealth his crown,
To welcome some deputed robber's sway,
And watch his wavering will from day to day:
No once o'erwhelm'd beneath a tyrant's blow,
Each following age will bring increase of woe,
And every sigh, that loads the Swedish air,
Will fly the herald of a patriot's care!'

}

To this poem, succeed imitations of Mr. Walter Scott; and, if compared with some of the productions of that author, they tread far more closely on the originals than Mr. Scott would desire. The translation from the thirteenth Iliad has real merit; and, if Mr. Walker should persist in his inclination to publish, we strongly advise him to steer by the ideas of great and acknowleged poets. The metre in which his version is written is admirably adapted to a fragment, or short piece; and with compositions that demand a longer breath, we wish him not again to commit himself.

The volume concludes with some Latin poems, which, the writer informs us, have been honoured by the approbation of different masters at Eton.' As specimens of Latinity, they are not discreditable to the tutor and the pupil: but we can by no means persuade ourselves that the world stood in need of any modern and equivocal Latin, in addition to that of which it is at present possessed. Metrical exercises in Latin are useful and even necessary for the attainment of the prosody and quantity of that language: but the northern idioms are so dissonant from the Roman, that, with few exceptions, we have every

reason

reason to fear that our Latin is rather a language of convention than the Latin of antiquity. The secret died with the Romans of old, and after a long night was imparted at its revival almost exclusively to the poets of Italy. Vida, Sannazarius, Fracastorius, Flaminius, and Politian, wrote Latin, because the transition from the lingua vulgare to the lingua antica was easy, and, in point of idiom, almost imperceptible. In these writers, we perceive no constraint, no effort, no ambitious and crabbed language they speak as the heirs and descendants of those who formed the dynasty of Latin poesy, -as the legal possessors of the soil, and sole proprietors of the venerable language.

WH

ART. VII. An Inquiry into the Moral Tendency of Methodism and Evangelical Preaching. Part the Second. By William Burns. 8vo. pp. 108. 4s. Johnson and Co. 1812. WHAT person ever seriously and deliberately chose error for its own sake, or because it was error? All the different sects of religion mean to be right; and so rooted are they in the conviction of the truth of their own tenets, that the best reasoner will find it extremely difficult to persuade them that they are wrong. In reviewing the first part of Mr. Burns's Inquiry, (see M. R., Vol. Ixvi., N. S., p. 176.) as well as the "Hints" of "a Barrister," we have freely delivered our opinion of the nature and operation of Methodism; most probably, however, without inducing one Methodist to see with our eyes. Supposing us to be right and the Evangelicals to be wrong, it is surely of some importance to inquire what is the cause of the strong delusion which so completely invelopes their minds, or to what we must attribute their mistaken views of the Gospel of Christ? We can truly say that we have met with no writer who more clearly explains these points than Mr. Burns; whose second part is as well composed as his first, and has the merit of that nice discrimination which is so absolutely necessary in all discussions of religious

tenets.

From the want either of accurate definition or of clear apprehension, from the mixture of error with truth, and from inattention in separating the former from the latter, many persons, with the best intentions, labour under the strongest selfdeception, and are zealous for false doctrine, under the notion that it is consonant with the word of God. The Calvinistic doctrine of depravity, which is the subject of the first chapter, is shewn by Mr. Burns to originate in jumbling together matters of theory and of fact; or the acknowleged frailty of human nature, and the supposition of its total moral

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incapacity. A verdict is thus passed against human nature, on a mere survey of its worst side, while no notice is taken of the good in its composition: though the actual state and character of our nature ought to be considered, and the good as well as the bad be put into the scale. Now, with all our evil propensities and vicious pursuits,

There is a natural love of justice and of truth, in our minds, which is never extinguished, unless by an education positively bad, or acquired habits of atrocious vice. There is a susceptibility of generous impressions and noble resolutions, frail and fleeting, perhaps, if not instantly furnished with objects and means of gratifi cation, but not more so than some of the violent passions, which also subside and evaporate, if not immediately supplied with opportunities of action. There are natural tempers, also, of the most amiable and benevolent kind, which preserve a steady and happy influence over some people all their lives, and make them a blessing to themselves and all around them.

It is of no consequence to the present argument, what opinion we may have concerning the comparative value of such natural qualities, or concerning their influence on our final salvation. It is the fact of their existence alone, with which we have to do; and this being admitted, (for who can deny it?) the assertion" that our nature is corrupted to the very core, and has no virtuous tendencies in it," is false."

We are persuaded that the doctrine of the total depravity of human nature is deemed, by many persons, a very comfortable mode of reconciling vice to their own consciences as a fault more or less unavoidable; especially since this degrading or exonerating doctrine is always coupled with another, which opens a fund whence the bankrupt-moralist pays full twenty shillings in the pound for every bill presented against him by Divine justice. God cannot expect any great matters from creatures depraved even to the very core: but, if he should, the Saviour becomes an all-sufficient substitute. Thus the issue is secured at all events, and they may safely speak of their own righteousness as filthy rags. Yet a strange inconsistency appears in the low estimate of the powers of the creature, and in the high demands of the Creator. Though man, they tell us, can do nothing, the Almighty requires every thing from him, and regards every sin as including in it the sentence of eternal damnation. How is this made out? Nothing is so easy. Behold the demonstration: "As God is an infinite Being, every offence against him deserves an infinite punishment." Repeatedly have we heard this argument waged and admitted, yet it is impossible to produce an instance of more inebriated logic:

This,' says Mr. B., is one of those shreds of ancient scholastic divinity, which the Calvinists have preserved with pious care as 5

a pre

a precious relic. It is, also, one of the most wretched sophisms that ever enslaved the mind of man, or thrilled his heart with horror. It would be just as much to the purpose to say, that God being an invisible Being, every offence against him required an invisible punishment.

What, in the name of common sense, have such attributes to do with the adjustment of rewards and punishments, in his moral government of the world? Is it not his wisdom, his justice, and his mercy alone, that have to do with the business? If we will, therefore, draw inferences from the abstract character of the Deity respecting the rules of his government, we ought to reason thus: God is just, therefore the Judge of all the earth will inflict none but just and equitable punishments.'

On the Divine character respecting the exercise of justice and mercy, some remarks are offered in the 2d chapter, which Calvinists ought not to slight; because in this particular their representation of the Deity tends to destroy our idea of him as a Being intitled to our purest love and highest reverence. Surely, with such an impression on our minds, we shall be excused if we transcribe Mr. B.'s argumentations with the Methodists on this subject:

The dictates of nature, concerning the moral dispositions of the Deity, are as plain and decisive as the proofs which are given us of his power and godhead. He that made the eye, does he not see? He that formed the ear, shall he not hear? This is unanswerable reasoning. Not less so is the following. He that taught us to respect justice and humanity, is he not just and humane? He that approves the exercise of mercy, is he not merciful and kind? Justice in God must, therefore, be the same thing as justice among

men.

Now we feel no respect for that species of justice (if it can be so called), which consists merely in the rigorous punishment of offences; and we abuse the meaning of words, when we give that respectable name to a disposition which disregards the cries and tears of penitence; which admits of no apology for the weaknesses and infirmities of nature; for the strength of passion, and the surprise of temptation.

Justice does not consist in applying the severest penalties of law, without discrimination; on the contrary, we would not hesitate to call that judge or that law unjust, among men, which made no allow ance for the various circumstances which affect the criminality of the

same overt act.

Let us apply these principles to the Divine government, and see if they do not confute those absurd notions of justice to which we have alluded. Every thing in the circumstances of mankind calls for indulgence and lenity on the part of their Judge. Born with strong passions, surrounded with powerful temptations, prone to err in judgment, frequently spoiled by education, and corrupted by example; it is perfectly impossible for man wholly to avoid

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offences.