thoughts less piously than the heathen were wont to conclude their graver discourses.

"Thou therefore that sittest in light and glory unapproachable, Parent of angels and men! next thee I implore, omnipotent King, Redeemer of that lost remnant whose nature thou didst assume, ineffable and everlasting love! and thou, the third subsistence of divine infinitude, illumining Spirit, the joy and solace of created things! one Tripersonal godhead! look upon this thy poor and almost spent and expiring church, leave her not thus a prey to these importunate wolves, that wait and think long till they devour thy tender flock; these wild boars that have broke into thy vineyard, and left the print of their polluting hoofs on the souls of thy servants. O let them not bring about their damned designs, that stand now at the entrance of the bottomless pit, expecting the watchword to open and let out those dreadful locusts and scorpions, to reinvolve us in that pitchy cloud of infernal darkness, where we shall never more see the sun of thy truth again, never hope for the cheerful dawn, never more hear the bird of morning sing. Be moved with pity at the afflicted state of this our shaken monarchy, that now lies labouring under her throes, and struggling against the grudges of more dreaded calamities.

"O thou, that, after the impetuous rage of five bloody inundations, and the succeeding sword of intestine war, soaking the land in her own gore, didst pity the sad and ceaseless revolution of our swift and thick coming sorrows; when we were quite breathless, out of thy free grace didst motion peace, and terms of covenant with us; and have first well nigh freed us from antichristian thraldom, didst build up this Britannic empire to a glorious and enviable height, with all her daughter islands about her; stay us in this felicity, let not the obstinacy of our half obedience and will-worship bring forth that viper of sedition, that for fourscore years hath been breeding to eat through the entrails of our peace; but let her cast her abortive spawn without the danger of this

travailing and throbbing kingdom: that we may still remember in our solemn thanksgivings, how for us, the Northern Ocean even to the frozen Thule was scattered with the proud shipwrecks of the Spanish Armada, and the very maw of hell ransacked, and made to give up her concealed destruction, ere she could vent it in that horrible and damned blast."

Milton then goes on with somewhat too much of the rancour of a zealot to stigmatize and condemn the enemies of the church, but still his language is so perfectly illustrative of what we have attempted to describe as mental power, that we conclude only with the end of the chapter. Of those whom he has been denouncing, he says,

"Let them take counsel together, and let it come to nought; let them decree, and do thou cancel it; let them gather themselves, and be scattered; let them embattle themselves, and be broken; let them embattle and be broken, for thou art with us.

"Then, amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, some one may perhaps be heard offering at high strains in new and lofty measures, to sing and celebrate thy divine mercies and marvellous judgements in this land throughout all ages; whereby this great and warlike nation, instructed and inured to the fervent and continual practice of truth and righteousness, and casting far from her the rags of her old vices, may press on hard to that high and happy emulation to be found the soberest, wisest, and most Christian people at that day, when thou, the eternal and shortly-expected King, shalt open the clouds to judge the several kingdoms of the world, and distributing national honours and rewards to religious

and just commonwealths, shall put an end to all earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and mild monarchy through heaven and earth; where they undoubtedly, that by their labours, counsels, and prayers, have been earnest for the common good of religion and their country, shall receive above the inferior orders of the blessed, the regal addition of principalities, legions, and thrones into their glorious titles, and in supereminence of beatific vision, progressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity, shall clasp inseparable hands with joy and bliss, in overmeasure for

ever.

"But they contrary, that by the impairing and diminution of the true faith, the distresses and servitude of their country, aspire to high dignity, rule, and promotion here, after a shameful end in this life, shall be thrown down eternally into the darkest and deepest gulf of hell, where under the despiteful control, the trample and spurn of all the other damned, that in the anguish of their torture, shall have no other ease than to exercise a raving and bestial tyranny over them as their slaves and negros, they shall remain in that plight for ever, the basest, lowermost, the most dejected, most underfoot, and down trodden vassals of perdition."

284

TASTE.

TASTE, the last mentioned of the four requisites for writing poetry, is by no means the least important, because its sphere of operation belongs so much to the medium through which poetical ideas are conveyed, that even where impression, imagination, and power exist, we may lose by the absence of taste, all the sensible effect of their presence, as well as all the pleasure naturally arising from their combined influence.

We speak of taste as belonging chiefly to the medium of the poet's ideas, because in the choice and arrangement of his subjects, he uses a higher faculty, (or rather a higher and more profound exercise of the same,)—the faculty of judgment; in its nature so nearly allied to taste, that we are inclined to describe

taste as a superficial application of judgment. Both are faculties whose office it is to take note of the fitness of things generally, the one by casual observation of them, the other by mature consideration of their nature. Taste applies chiefly to those qualities which immediately strike our attention without much exercise of thought, such as beauty and harmony; while judgment admits within its compass the weightier considerations of present utility, and ultimate good.

If, for example, we say of a lady that she dresses with taste; we mean with due regard to beauty of form, harmony of colours, and general suitableness to her appearance-if with judgment, we mean with regard to her pecuniary means, her character, and station in life; but the operation of the mind in the exercise of taste, and judgment is the same, differing only in the subjects to which it is applied. In both cases we draw conclusions from the general nature of the subjects considered, those of which taste takes cognizance, being superficial and evident to the senses, its conclusions are prompt, and immediate ; and thus it erroneously obtains the character of an intuitive power, directing the choice at