nance to its constitution, but to its preachers, distinguished of these, we propose to direct maintained, in the first eagerness of their faith, the attention of our readers.

highly-wrought and sparkling embellishments are like ornaments of crystal, which, even in their brilliant inequalities of surface, give back to the eye little pieces of true imagery set before them.

the barbarous notion that human knowledge MR. HALL, though perhaps the most distinwas useless, and even dangerous, to the Chris-guished ornament of the Calvinistic* Dissenttian minister. The absurdity of this position, ers, does not afford the best opportunity for however strikingly exemplified in the advan- criticism. His excellence does not consist in tages gained by the enemies of those who the predominance of one of his powers, but in acted on it, served only to increase the desire the exquisite proportion and harmony of all. of the more enlightened and liberal among the The richness, variety, and extent of his knownon-conformists, to emulate the church in the ledge, are not so remarkable as his absolute intellectual qualification of their preachers. mastery over it. He moves about in the lofThey speedily enlarged the means of educa- tiest sphere of contemplation, as though he tion among them for the sacred office, and en- were "native and endued to its element." He couraged those habits of study, which promote uses the finest classical allusions, the noblest a refinement and delicacy of feeling in the images, and the most exquisite words, as though minds which they enlighten. Meanwhile, their they were those which came first to his mind, active participation in the noblest schemes of and which formed his natural dialect. There benevolence, tended yet farther to expand their is not the least appearance of straining after moral horizon. Youths were found among greatness in his most magnificent excursions, them prepared to sacrifice all the enjoyments but he rises to the loftiest heights with a childof civilized life, and at the peril of their lives like ease. His style is one of the clearest and to traverse the remotest and the wildest re-simplest-the least encumbered with its own gions, that they might diffuse that religion beauty-of any which ever has been written. which is everywhere the parent of arts, chari-It is bright and lucid as a mirror, and its most ties, and peace. It is not the least benefit of their Missionary exertions, that they have given a romantic tinge to the feelings of men "in populous city pent," and engrossed with the petty and distracting cares of commerce. These form the true Evangelical chivalry, supplying to their promoters no small measure of that mental refinement and elevation, which the far less noble endeavours to recover the Holy Sepulchre shed on Europe in the middle ages. It is not easy to estimate the advantages which spring from the extension of the imagination into the grandest regions of the earth, and from the excitement of sympathies for the condition of the most distant and degraded of the species. The merchant, whose thoughts would else rarely travel beyond his desk and his fire-side, is thus busied with high musings on the progress of the Gospel in the deserts of Africa-skims with the lonely bark over tropical seas—and sends his wishes and his prayers over deserts which human footstep has rarely trodden. Missionary zeal, thus diffused among the people, has necessarily operated yet more strongly on the minds of the ministers, who have leisure to indulge in these delicious dreamings which such a cause may sanction. These excellent men are now, for the most part, not only the instructors, but the ornaments of the circles in which they move. The time which they are able to give to literature is well employed for the benefit of their flocks. In the country, more especially, their gentle manners, their extended information, and their pure and blameless lives, do incalculable good to the hearts of their ruder hearers, independent of their public services. Not only in the more solemn of their duties,-in admonishing the guilty, comforting the afflicted, and cheering the dying-do they bless those around them; but by their demeanour, usually dignified, yet cheerful, and their conversation decorous, yet lively; they raise incalculably the tone of social intercourse, and heighten the innocent enjoyment of their friends. Some of them are, at the present day, exhibiting no ordinary gifts and energies;-and to the most

The works of this great preacher are, in the highest sense of the term, imaginative, as distinguished not only from the didactic, but from the fanciful. He possesses "the vision and the faculty divine," in as high a degree as any of our writers in prose. His noblest passages do but make truth visible in the form of beauty, and "clothe upon" abstract ideas, till they become palpable in exquisite shapes. The dullest writer would not convey the same meaning in so few words, as he has done in the most sublime of his illustrations. Imagination, when like his of the purest water, is so far from being improperly employed on divine subjects, that it only finds its real objects in the true and the eternal. This power it is which disdains the scattered elements of beauty, as they appear distinctly in an imperfect world, and strives by accumulation, and by rejecting the alloy cast on all things, to imbody to the mind that ideal beauty which shall be realized hereafter. This, by shedding a consecrating light on all it touches, and "bringing them into one," anticipates the future harmony of creation. This already sees the "soul of goodness in things evil," which shall one day change the evil into its likeness. This already begins the triumph over the separating powers of death and time, and renders their victory doubtful, by making us feel the immortality of the affections. Such is the faculty which is employed by Mr. Hall to its noblest uses. There is no rhetorical flourish—no mere pomp of wordsin his most eloquent discourses. With vast excursive power, indeed, he can range through all the glories of the Pagan world, and seizing those traits of beauty which they derived from

We use this epithet merely as that which will most distinctively characterize the extensive class to which it is applied-well aware that there are shades of difference among them--and that many of them would decline to call themselves after any name but that of Christ.

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primeval revelation, restore them to the system of truth. But he is ever best when he is intensest-when he unveils the mighty foundations of the rock of ages-or makes the hearts of his hearers vibrate with a strange joy which they will recognise in more exalted stages of their being.

decide whether that freedom, at whose voice the kingdoms of Europe awoke from the sleep of ages, to run a career of virtuous emulation in every thing great and good; the freedom which dispelled the mists of superstition, and invited the nations to behold their God; whose magic touch kindled the rays of genius, the enthusiasm of poetry, and the flame of eloquence; the freedom which poured into our lap opulence and arts, and embellished life with innumerable institutions and improvements, till it became a theatre of wonders; it is for you to decide whether this freedom shall yet survive, or be covered with a funeral pall, and wrapped in eternal gloom. It is not necessary to await your determination. In the solicitude you feel to approve yourselves worthy of such a trust, every thought of what is afflicting in warfare, every apprehension of danger must vanish, and you are impatient to mingle in the battle of the civilized world. Go then, ye defenders of your country, accompanied with every auspicious omen; advance with alacrity into the field, where God himself much interested in your success, not to lend you her aid; she will shed over this enterprise her selectest influence. While you are engaged in the field many will repair to the closet, many to the sanctuary; the faithful of every name will employ that prayer which has power with God; the feeble hands which are unequal to any other weapon, will grasp the sword of the Spirit; and from myriads of humble, contrite hearts, the voice of intercession, supplication, and weeping, will mingle in its ascent to heaven with the shout of battle and the shock of arms.

Mr. Hall has, unfortunately, committed but few of his discourses to the press. His Sermon on the tendencies of Modern Infidelity is one of the noblest specimens of his genius. Nothing can be more fearfully sublime, than the picture which he gives of the desolate state to which Atheism would reduce the world; or more beautiful and triumphant, than his vindication of the social affections. His Sermon on the Death of Princess Charlotte contains a philosophical and eloquent development of the causes which make the sorrows of those who are encircled by the brightest appearances of happiness, peculiarly affecting; and gives an exquisite picture of the gentle victim adorned with sacrificial glories. His discourses on War-on the Discouragements and supports of the Christian Ministry-musters the hosts to war. Religion is too and on the Work of the Holy Spirit-are of great and various excellence. But, as our limits will allow only a single extract, we prefer giving the close of a Sermon preached in the prospect of the invasion of England by Napoleon, in which he blends the finest remembrance of the antique world-the dearest associations of British patriotism-and the pure spirit of the gospel-in a strain as noble as could have been poured out by Tyrtæus.

"To form an adequate idea of the duties of this crisis, it will be necessary to raise your minds to a level with your station, to extend your views to a distant futurity, and to consequences the most certain, though most remote. By a series of criminal enterprises, by the successes of guilty ambition, the liberties of Europe have been gradually extinguished: the subjugation of Holland, Switzerland, and the free towns of Germany, has completed that catastrophe; and we are the only people in the eastern hemisphere who are in possession of equal laws, and a free constitution. Freedom, driven from every spot on the continent, has sought an asylum in a country which she always chose for her favourite abode: but she is pursued even here, and threatened with destruction. The inundation of lawless power, after covering the whole earth, threatens to follow us here; and we are most exactly, most critically placed in the only aperture where it can be successfully repelled, in the Thermopyla of the universe. As far as the interests of freedom are concerned, the most important by far of sublunary interests, you, my countrymen, stand in the capacity of the federal representatives of the human race; for with you it is to determine (under God) in what condition the latest posterity shall be born; their fortunes are intrusted to your care, and on your conduct at this moment depends the colour and complexion of their destiny. If liberty, after being extinguished on the continent, is suffered to expire here, whence is it ever to emerge in the midst of that thick night that will invest it? It remains with you then to

"While you have every thing to fear from the success of the enemy, you have every means of preventing that success, so that it is next to impossible for victory not to crown your exertions. The extent of your resources, under God, is equal to the justice of our cause. But should Providence determine otherwise, should you fall in this struggle, should the nation fall, you will have the satisfaction (the purest allotted to man) of having performed your part; your names will be enrolled with the most illustrious dead, while posterity to the end of time, as often as they revolve the events of this period, (and they will incessantly revolve them,) will turn to you a reverential eye, while they mourn over the freedom which is entombed in your sepulchre. I cannot but imagine the virtuous heroes, legislators, and patriots, of every age and country, are bending from their elevated seats to witness this contest, as if they were incapable, till it be brought to a favourable issue, of enjoying their eternal repose. Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortals! Your mantle fell when you ascended; and thousands, inflamed with your spirit, and impatient to tread in your steps, are ready to swear by Him that sitteth upon the throne, and liveth for ever and ever, they will protect freedom in her last asylum, and never desert that cause which you sustained by your labours, and cemented with your blood. And thou, sole Ruler among the children of men, to whom the shields of the earth belong, gird on thy sword, thou Most

There is nothing very remarkable in Mr. Hall's manner of delivering his sermons. His simplicity, yet solemnity of deportment, engage the attention, but do not promise any of his most rapturous effusions. His voice is feeble, but distinct, and, as he proceeds, trembles beneath his images, and conveys the idea, that the spring of sublimity and beauty in his mind is exhaustless, and would pour forth a more copious stream, if it had a wider | sires."

RECOLLECTIONS OF LISBON.

[NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.]

scarcely of this world. The moon on its first | us softly onwards. On both sides, the shore appearance, before the western lustre had en- rose into a series of hills on the right side; tirely faded away, cast no reflection, however wild, abrupt, mazy, and tangled, and on the pale, on the waves; but seemed like some princely maiden exposed for the first time to vulgar gaze, gently to shrink back as though she feared some contamination to her pure and celestial beauty from shining forth on so busy and turbulent a sphere. As night advanced, it was a solemn pleasure to stand on the deck of the vessel, borne swiftly along the noiseless sea, and gaze on the far-retiring stars in the azure distance. The mind seems, in such a scene, almost to "o'er-inform its tenement of clay," and to leap beyond it. It dwells not on the changes of the world; for in its high abstraction, all material things seem but passing shadows. Life, with its realities, appears like a vanishing dream, and the past a tale scarcely credited. The pulses of mortal existence are almost suspended-"thought is not-in enjoyment it expires." Nothing seems to be in the universe but one's self and God. No feeling of loneliness has entrance, for the great spirit of Eternal Good seems shedding mildest and selectest influences on all things.

On the eighth morning after our departure | from Falmouth, on coming as usual on the deck, I found that we were sailing almost close under "the Rock of Lisbon," which breasts the vale of Cintra. It is a stupendous mountain of rock, extending very far into the sea, and rising to a dizzy height above it. The sides are broken into huge precipices and caverns of various and grotesque forms, are covered with dark moss, or exhibit naked stones blackened with a thousand storms. The top consists of an unequal ridge of apparently shivered rock, sometimes descending in jagged lines, and at others rising into sharp, angular and pointed pyramids, which seem to strike into the clouds. What a feeling does such a monument excite, shapeless, rugged, and setting all form at defiance-when the heart feels that it has outlived a thousand generations of perishable man, and belongs to an antiquity compared with which the wonders of Egypt are modern! It seems like the unhewn citadel of a giant race; the mighty wreck of an older and more substantial world.

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Leaving the steeps and everlasting recesses of this huge mass, we passed the coasts of Portugal. The fields lying near the shore appeared for the most part barren, though broken into gentle undulations, and adorned with large spreading mansions and neat villages. pleasant breeze brought us soon to the mouth of the Tagus, where a scene of enchantment, "too bright and fair almost for remembrance," burst upon my view. We sailed between the two fortresses which guard the entrance of the river, here several miles in width, close to the walls of that on the left, denominated "Fort St. Julian." The river, seen up to the beautiful castle of Belem, lay before us, not serpentine nor perceptibly contracting, but between almost parallel shores, like a noble avenue of crystal. It was studded with vessels of every region, as the sky is sprinkled with stars, which rested on a bosom of waters so calm as scarcely to be curled by the air which wafted

left, covered with the freshest verdure and interspersed with luxuriant trees. Noble seats appeared crowning the hills and sloping on their sides; and in the spaces between the elevated spots, glimpses were caught of sweet valleys winding among scattered woods, or of princely domes and spires in the richness of the distance. All wore, not the pale livery of an opening spring, but the full bloom of maturest summer. The transition to such a scene, sparkling in the richest tints of sunshine and overhung by a cloudless sky of the deepest blue, from the scanty and just-budding foliage of Cornwall, as I left it, was like the change of a Midsummer Night's Dream; a sudden admission into fairy worlds. As we glided up the enchanted channel, the elevations on the left became overspread with magnificent buildings, like mingled temples and palaces, rising one above another into segments of vast amphitheatres, and interspersed with groves of the fullest yet most delicate green. Close to the water lay a barbaric edifice, of rich though fantastic architecture, a relic of Moorish grandeur, now converted into the last earthly abode of the monarchs of Portugal. Hence the buildings continued to thicken over the hills and to assume a more confused, though scarcely less romantic aspect, till we anchored in front of the most populous part of Lisbon. The city was stretched beyond the reach of the eye, on every side, upon the ascents and summits of very lofty and steep elevations. The white houses, thickly intersected with windows, mostly framed with green and white lattice-work, seemed to have their foundations on the tops of others: terraces appeared lifted far above the lofty buildings, and other edifices rose above them; gardens looked as suspended by magic in the clouds, and the whole scene wore an aspect of the most gorgeous confusion -"all bright and glittering in the smokeless air." We landed, and the enchantment vanished, at least for a season. Very narrow streets, winding in ceaseless turnings over steep ascents and declivities, paved only with sharp flints, and filthy beyond compare, now seemed to form the interior of the promised elysium. Nature and the founders of the city appeared to have done their best to render the spot a paradise, and modern generations their worst to reduce it to a sink of misery.

Lisbon, like ancient Rome, is built on at least seven hills. It is fitted by situation to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Seated, or rather enthroned on such a spot, commanding a magnificent harbour, and overlooking one of the noblest rivers of Europe, it might be more distinguished for external beauty than Athens in the days of her freedom. Now it seems rather to be the theatre in which the two great powers of deformity and loveliness are perpetually struggling for the mastery. The highest admiration and the most sickening disgust alternately prevail in the mind of the beholder. Never was there so strange an intermixture of the mighty and the mean of the pride of wealth and the abject

ness of poverty-of the memorials of greatness | to the Tagus, which here spreads out into a and the symbols of low misery-of the filthy breadth of many miles, so as to wear almost and the romantic. I will dwell, however, on the appearance of an inland lake, forms the the fair side of the picture; as I envy not those southern part of this modern city. At the who delight in exhibiting the frightful or the south-eastern angle, close to the river, stands gloomy, in the moral or the natural world. the Exchange, which is a square white buildOften after traversing dark and wretcheding, of no particular beauty or size. The sides streets, at a sudden turn, a prospect of inimi- of the square are occupied with dull-looking table beauty bursts on the eye of the spectator. white buildings, which are chiefly offices of He finds himself, perhaps, on the brink of a state, excepting, indeed, that the plan is inmighty hollow scooped out by nature amidst completely executed, as the unfinished state hills, all covered to the tops with edifices, save of the western range of edifices sadly evinces. where groves of the freshest verdure are in- In the centre is an equestrian statue of King terspersed; or on one side, a mountain rises Joseph, on a scale so colossal that the image into a cone far above the city, tufted with of Charles on horseback at Charing Cross woods and crowned with some castellated pile, would appear a miniature by its side. From the work of other days. The views fronting the northern side of this quadrangle run three the Tagus are still more extensive and grand. streets, narrow but built in perfect uniformity, On one of these I stumbled a few evenings and of more than a quarter of a mile in length, after my arrival, which almost suspended the which connect it with another square called breath with wonder. I had laboured through the Rocio, of nearly similar magnitude and a steep and narrow street almost choked with proportions. The houses in these streets are dirt, when a small avenue on one side, ap- white, of five stories in height, with shops, parently more open, tempted me to step aside more resembling cells than the brilliant reto breathe the fresher air. I found myself on positories of Cheapside, in the lower departa little plot of ground, hanging apparently in ments, and latticed windows in the upper the air, in the front of one of the churches. I stories. They have on both sides elevated stood against the column of the portico ab- pathways for foot passengers, neatly paved sorbed in delight and wonder. Before me lay with blocks of stone, and leaving space for a large portion of the city-houses descended two carriages to pass in the centre. The beneath houses, sinking almost precipitously Rocio is surrounded on three sides with houses to a fearful depth beneath me, whose frame- resembling those in the streets, and on the works, covered over with vines of delicate north by a range of building belonging to the green, broke the ascent like prodigious steps, Inquisition, the subterranean prisons of which by which a giant might scale the eminence extend far beneath the square. A little onthe same "wilderness of building" filled up the ward to the north of this area, amidst filthy vast hollow, and rose by a more easy slope to suburbs, stands the public garden of the city. the top of the opposite hills, which were It is an oblong piece of ground, of consideracrowned with turrets, domes, mansions, and ble extent, surrounded by high walls, but alregal pavilions of a dazzling whiteness-be- ways open at proper hours to the public. It yond the Tagus, on the southern shore, the is planted with high trees of the most delicate coast rose into wild and barren hills, wearing green, which, however, do not form a mass of an aspect of the roughest sublimity and gran- impervious shade, but afford many spots of the deur-and, in the midst, occupying the bosom thickest shelter, and give room for the play of the great vale, close between the glorious of the warm sunbeams, and for the contemcity and the unknown wilds, lay the calm and plation of the stainless sky. The garden is majestic river, from two to three miles in width, laid out with more regularity than taste: one seen with the utmost distinctness to its mouth, broad walk runs completely through it from on each side of which the two castles which north to south, on each side of which, beneath guard it were visible, and spread over with a the loftier shade, are tall hedge-rows, solid thousand ships-onward yet farther, far as the masses of green, cut into the exactest paralleleye could reach, the living ocean was glisten-ograms. The equal spaces on each side of the ing, and ships, like specks of the purest white, were seen crossing it to and fro, giving to the scene an imaginary extension, by carrying the mind with them to far-distant shores. It was the time of sunset, and clouds of the richest saffron rested on the bosom of the air, and were reflected in softer tints in the waters. Not a whisper reached the ear. "The holy time was quiet as a nun breathless with adoration." The scene looked like some vision of blissful enchantment, and I scarcely dared to stir or breathe lest it should vanish away..

middle walk are intersected by similar hedgerows-sometimes curving into an open circle, surrounded with circular trenches; at others, enclosing an angular space, railed in and cultivated with flowers, and occasionally expanding into shapes yet more fantastic.-There is no intricacy, no beautiful wildness in the scene"half the platform just reflects the other" in the minutest features-but the green is so fresh and so abundant, and the air so delicately fragrant, that this garden forms a retreat in the warmth of summer which seems almost elysian.

The eastern quarter of Lisbon, which is chiefly built since the great earthquake, stands There are two small places of public amusealmost on level ground; and, though sur-ment in Lisbon, where dramatic pieces are rounded by steep hills, with trees among their performed, chiefly taken from the Spanish. precipices, and aerial terraces on their sum- The "legitimate drama," however, is of little mits, is not in itself very singular or romantic. attraction, compared with the wonderful conA square of noble extent, open on the south tortions and rope-dancings which these houses