These passages have been chosen to exemplify Mr. Dale's elegant and unaffected manner of narration, rather than as the most striking specimens of his poetical talents; scenes of greater power, and of a higher order of invention, might easily be found in many parts of the volume. The "Outlaw of Taurus," and "Irad and Adah," possess the elements of true poetry. The former story is founded upon a tradition, said to have been immediately received from the Apostle John, and preserved in Eusebius's History of the Western Churches. After the death of Domitian, St. John returned from the Isle of Patmos to Ephesus, and at the solicitation of his brethren undertook a journey through the adjacent provinces, for the ordination of bishops, the superintendence of the churches, and the separation of such persons as the Holy Spirit signified to be worthy of the ministry. While visiting the brethren at a city not far from Ephesus, he observed among the audience a youth of engaging aspect, and whose appearance bespoke the excellence of his mind. Turning to the bishop, whom he had just ordained, he exclaimed—“ In the presence of the church, and in the sight of Christ, I commit this youth to your utmost diligence." With this injunction, the apostle returned to Ephesus. For a season the young man grew in piety and virtue, in the house of the bishop to whom he had been entrusted; in process of time, however, the exertions of the master declined, and the good principles of his pupil melted away beneath the temptations of dissolute companions. Being remarkable for the power and strength of his mind, he surpassed his associates in guilt, and became their leader in every exploit of atrocity and horror. In the course of time St. John once more visited this city, and when he heard of the lamentable condition of the young man, he rent his garments, and departed in pursuit of him. Coming up with the band, the young man in shame fled before him; but the tears and affectionate entreaties of the apostle prevailed; the spiritual father fell on the neck of the prodigal son; nor did he depart until he

that was dead was alive again, and he that was lost was found. The tradition adds, that he afforded an example of sincere penitence, an illustrious instance of regeneration, and a trophy of a conspicuous resurrection. We regret our inability to show by extracts how well the poet has availed himself of the capabilities of his subject.

We have already mentioned Mr. Campbell's lyric odes; and by these his fame will be kept alive; like the old ballad of "Chevy Chase," which always stirred the heart of Sir Philip Sidney, like the sound of a trumpet, they come home to the universal heart of mankind. Every man who loves his country can feel their excellence, even though he never heard of Milton or of Shakspeare; their merit consists in something beyond the poetry of art, namely, the poetry of nature. The "Pleasures of Hope," viewed as the work of a very young man, were full of the finest promise; but they were blossom, not fruit, and the reputation of the poem seems to us considerably larger than its merits; in melody of versification, softness of colouring, and brightness of fancy, it is hardly superior to the "Human Life" and " Columbus" of Mr. Rogers. One of the defects of the poem arises out of the frequent introduction of compound epithets, without the expressive beauty which recommends the picture-words of Daniel, Sylvester, and Drayton; we have within a few pages rapturespeaking, carnage-covered, spirit-speaking eye, strength-inspiring, passion-kindling, with a multitude of the same kind. The metre has too much of the antithetical manner of Pope, and the cæsura too frequently falls in the same place, occasioning a monotony of tone. Defects of taste are not wanting, and these the writer has carefully retained in the last edition-in one place the purified soul is represented as wafted to the shrine where

"Motion first began,

And light and life in mingling torrent ran,

From whence each bright rotundity was hurl'd.”

The line in italics approaches the sublimity of nonsense, and reads like an interpolation from Blackmore. "Gertrude of

Mr.

Wyoming" is in every respect a more finished and beautiful work of art than the "Pleasures of Hope;" a delicate fancy plays softly over it, like moonlight upon a garden; the thoughts are always pleasing, often picturesque and tender; the versification graceful and easy, with many of the sweetest tones of Spenser. Campbell's poetry contains fewer images drawn from rural life or scenery than the works of any distinguished writer of the present day; and we have heard Mr. Wordsworth censure his amatory compliment to Caroline, that he will teach his grotto to be green, as affected and unpoetical. The author would, of course, support this apparent deficiency upon the grounds advanced in his controversy with Mr. Bowles. We only allude to the circum

stance for the sake of reminding the reader of the very delightful glimpse of an American landscape, presented in the opening stanzas of Gertrude:

:

Delightful Wyoming! beneath thy skies,

The happy shepherd swains had nought to do
But feed their flocks on green declivities,
Or skim perchance thy lake with light canoe,
From morn till evening's sweeter pastime grew,
With timbrel, when beneath the forests brown,
Thy lovely maidens would the dance renew;
And aye those sunny mountains, half way down,
Would echo flagelet from some romantic town.
"Then, where of Indian hills the daylight takes
His leave, how might you the flamingo see
Disporting like a meteor on the lakes-
And playful squirrel on his nut-grown tree:
And every sound of life was full of glee,

From merry mock-bird's song, or hum of men ;
While hearkening, fearing nought their revelry,

The wild deer arched his neck from glades, and then
Unhunted, sought his woods and wilderness again."

By the side of this picture we will hang up another, from the second part of the same poem, drawn with the same accuracy, and recommended by the same mellowness.

"A valley from the river shore withdrawn

Was Albert's home, two quiet woods between,
Whose lofty verdure overlooked his lawn;
And waters to their resting-place serene
Came freshening and reflecting all the scene:
(A mirror in the depth of flowery shelves);
So sweet a spot of earth, you might (I ween)
Have guessed some congregation of the elves,

To sport by summer moons, had shaped it for themselves.
"Yet wanted not the eye far scope to muse,
Nor vistas opened by the wandering stream;
Both where at evening Allegany views,
Through ridges burning in her western beam,
Lake after lake interminably gleam:

And past those settlers' haunts the eye might roam
Where earth's unliving silence all would seem;
Save where on rocks the beaver built his dome,

Or buffalo remote lowed far from human home."

In contrasting the poetry of Campbell and Rogers, we usually assign the praise of vigour and elegance to the first, refinement and grace to the second; neither are richly endowed with imagination, and neither are able to sustain a long or an elevated flight; Campbell, upon the whole, is to be deemed the superior,

since he might have softened the lines of his verse into the delicacy and smoothness of Rogers; but Rogers could never have quickened his stream of thought into the torrent which hurries along the story of "O'Connor's Child." Campbell might have grouped the affecting incidents of "Human Life;" but Rogers could never have poured forth the fearful blast of "Lochiel's Warning." The late Mr. Hazlitt, with that ineffable supremacy of conceit which characterised his criticisms, not satisfied with declaring that the reader of Rogers's poems is never shocked by meeting with a homely phrase, or intelligible idea, that the picture was hidden by the varnish, and that evanescent brilliancy and tremulous imbecility everywhere prevailed, presumes to discover, also, a want of taste in the "Pleasures of Memory!" This is like lamenting Milton's poverty of classical allusion, or Pope's ignorance of the heroic metre, or Titian's coldness of colouring, or Rembrandt's unskilful use of light and shade, or Canaletti's perfect inability to comprehend the principles of perspective. If we were to name the presiding spirits of Mr. Rogers's poetry, they would be Taste and Elegance. If he errs, it is in the excess of his devotion to them, in the fastidiousness of a literary Tremaine; every composition seems almost written to illustrate a remark of Ben Jonson, in his "Discoveries," it is smooth, gentle, and soft, like a table, upon which you may run your finger without rubs, and your nail cannot find a joint.-True taste he knew to be an excellent economist; and, accordingly, he neither indulges in the perpetual glitter of Darwin, nor stiffens into the cold abstractions of Glover; his Helen may not always be beautiful, but she is never fine; and when he fails to remind us of Apelles, we never, at least, think of his scholar. We propose in a future article to combine the new editions of Wordsworth, Southey, and Bowles, and to carry out some of the principles to which we have only here alluded.

ART. VIII. The Church and Dissent considered in their practical Influence. By EDWARD OSLER. London: Smith and Elder. 1836.

We do not know of any other work which in the same compass, and in such clear and intelligible language, describes so much at large the general character and more prominent features of schism in its various branches. Mr. Osler, indeed, appears to have possessed opportunities for observing the nature and character of dissent. To use his own words, "I have been enabled to observe it closely for the last thirty years: I was brought up a dissenter, educated under the roof of a dissenting minister: and have had those means of knowing the personal and domestic character and habits of individuals in all ranks, and of all opinions, which only a medical practitioner can obtain." He has

certainly made an excellent use of these opportunities, since we may reasonably infer, it was from the light which they afforded him that he was induced to relinquish the form of faith in which he had been educated, and to become a member of the church of England; and, judging from his writings, we have no hesitation in pronouncing him a most zealous professor of her doctrines, and an intrepid assertor of her rights and privileges.

But this is not the only use which he has made of his advantages. They have enabled him to present to the notice of his countrymen an admirable view of the principles of dissent, illustrated by a comparative view of the principles of the church of England. In this view he has not merely confined himself to describing the doctrines or opinions held by this or that sect; by one or the other party or denomination of schismatics; but he has entered on a far more extensive field of investigation. He has examined into the nature and character of dissent taken in the abstract, he has penetrated into its innermost recesses, and has laid bare those governing motives which actuate the different classes who range themselves under its banners.

Whilst dissent exhibited itself in a number of different forms of belief, without any principles of union, or qualities which admitted of combination, each one standing alone, and being much more occupied in petty disputes with some one of its brethren in schism, than in attacking the venerable edifice of truth, from which it had originally separated, it was sufficient to examine these systems in detail, without seeking out the general principle, or primum mobile, of separation. Such a principle, perhaps, scarcely existed, or at least if it did exist, those who entertained it were not yet bold enough to avow it. Each sect put forth different reasons to justify its division from the Church, and these reasons were generally of a religious nature. It was either an impatience of the restrictions imposed by the Church on her members, an unwillingness to be tied down by articles of faith, a disbelief of the doctrines expressed in those articles, or an objection to the form of government and discipline adopted by the Church, or some other pretences of the same kind, which were generally alleged by separatists from the establishment. It remained for the present times to bring forth, or rather to reproduce, a principle of division, or more correctly speaking, a ground of attack against the church of England, which we may term political, and to the professors of which, we may assign the denomination of political dissenters. The political dissenter is one who, whatever may be the sect to which he belongs, or the religious opinions which he holds, quarrels not with the Church on spiritual but on temporal grounds. He cares not for her forms of faith or modes of doctrine, except in so far as he may fancy them to interfere with his acquisition of certain privileges. His hostility is directed against the honours which the dignitaries