which awakened the nations of Europe to joy and gladness, was seen gleaming (though faintly) in the age of chivalry.

It is interesting to observe the arrangement of Providence in regard to this singular institution. Indirectly, the very effects were produced which it was the direct object of chivalry to oppose.

A system whose institutions were exclusively warlike, fostered the arts of peace, until they flourished on her ruins; a system which elevated one favoured class, and consigned to degradation the mass of human society, by the indirect operation of its own laws, became the mean of exalting the lower orders. A system which proscribed science, and despised intellectual pursuits, was fated to awaken that spirit of improvement, at whose approach the splendour of romance, and the glories of chivalric enterprize, vanished for ever away. In the nineteenth century, though we lament the superstition, and censure the extravagancies of knight-errantry, we yet feel a spell-like attachment to the scenes and institutions of chivalry; we cannot be ignorant of its faults; but, like the recollection of some departed friend, we feel inclined to palliate rather than blame; to dwell upon its beneficial and redeeming qualities, and to forget its insuperable defects.

*

The glories of ancient Greece, with her long train of poets, heroes, and legislators, or " high and palmy" Rome graced with her three hundred triumphs, and bearing the rod of universal empire, strike less vividly on our imagination, and come far less home to our feelings, than the wild splendours of this new institution. The rudely sculptured effigy of the knight,

"Who now is dust,

"And his good sword rust,

"But whose soul is with the saints, we trust;"

interests our feelings more powerfully than the exquisitely finished bust of some Grecian hero; and the wild ballad of the "olden time" awakens our sympathies far more than the lofty rhyme of classical poetry.

National feeling has some share in producing this interest, as has been before stated, for we connect the early military glories of our country with the remains and records of chivalry. But its chief cause will be found in the romantic circumstances of the times, and the no less romantic institution which adorned them. Mankind, as by com

mon consent, have agreed to look back on the infancy of society, with similar feelings of interest and affection to those with which they recal the days of their childhood. The early periods of national history have generally been considered a kind of golden age, and the mists and obscurity which have hung around them, have been gilded with the brightest tints of poetic genius: to these all the fables of the poet are referable, and the romantic have sought, by recurring to the earlier stages of society, to realize those bright visions of perfect loveliness which have existence only in a brilliant, but delusive fancy. Now the age of chivalry, sufficiently removed from the habits and customs of later times, to present scenes of wildness and romance, yet not so remote, and so entirely unknown, as to exercise but slender influence over our feelings, has presented a luxuriant field to the modern poet; and well has he availed himself of its fertility.

The unsettled and warlike character of the times, has favoured the introduction into poetry and fiction of the wildest scenes and most romantic incidents, without the possible charge of outraging probability; while the human character, freed from those restraints which the customs of modern times from infancy impose on it, displayed its native energies, and exhibited its varied and striking peculiarities, with a force, an originality, which can only be found in an early and unsettled state of society. The superstition of this period, the witchcraft, the omen, the magic, the tests of guilt, the giant, the dwarf, the spectre, and the fairy,—the romance of modern times, but the firm belief of the middle ages, have all contributed to adorn the narratives, to heighten the interest, and to add solemn grandeur, or wild beauty, to the fiction of later bards.

The philosopher scorns all supernatural machinery, and rejoices that the days are past when whole nations trembled at the sorcerer, and paid homage to the fairy: but the lover of fiction finds in these superstitions a garden whence he gathers his brightest flowers; a mine from which he draws his richest materials; and the stern censure which some have passed on all the supernatural adjuncts of poetry, seems like rudely dashing the dew from the morning blossom, or bidding the summer rainbow vanish for ever. Perhaps no state of society, considered in all its circumstances, was ever invested with so much of poetical character, as the period distinguished by the influence of chivalry. The gallant knight pricking forth to encounter unknown

dangers and unheard of monsters, in regions where the lance had never gleamed, and the pomp of chivalry was never seen, is far better adapted for poetical purposes than any of the busy calculating characters of the present day: the eventful fortune of the judicial combat, sanctioned by ancient usage, and hallowed by religious ceremonies, affords far greater scope for description, and far deeper interest, than the lengthened speeches and technical details of a modern trial; while the ardency of feeling, the recklessness of danger, the unconquerable confidence of ultimate success, which excited the mind, and nerved the arm, of the crusader on the plain of Ascalon, or beneath the walls of Jerusalem, find in every bosom a sympathy for the heroism, though unmixed with respect for the cause. Indeed the romantic enthusiasm which impelled that vast human tide, which for nearly two centuries was unceasingly pouring the wealth, valour, and chivalry, of Europe on the shores of Palestine, alone presents more of poetical character than all the splendid victories, all the singular incidents, all the varied fortunes, of modern heroes. It is impossible not to admire that devotedness to what they considered the cause of God, which characterized many of the followers of the cross; which made them bid an eternal farewell to friends and country; despise hunger, thirst, and perils of every kind; and with heroism and devotion, worthy a far better cause, sing their hymn of thanksgiving in the very article of death. How admirably adapted for poetry and fiction are these eventful times and singular institutions; nor can we wonder that chivalry, and its adjuncts, have been a kind of fairy land to the poet and dramatist. Spenser, Shakspear and Scott, beside a host of meaner names, have drawn from this romantic source their wildest scenes and brighest poetry. Even the philosophic Milton could muse with delight on tales

66

"Of tourneys, and of trophies hung, "Of forests, and enchantments drear;"

and in his prose works recorded with enthusiasm," the influence produced on his literary character by those lofty "tales of chivalry, among which his young feet wandered."

In that interesting country which preserved to modern Europe all that remained of ancient literature, and which formed the character of modern poetry, chivalry has been the almost unceasing theme of the finest poets, from Pulci to Tasso. In the magic numbers, and more magic colour

ness.

ing of the romantic poets, light, order, and beauty, take place of the darkness, ignorance, and brutality, of the middle ages; chivalry presents a picture of splendid, but delusive beauty; and lawless marauders, roaming from place to place in quest of plunder, are transformed into high-minded heroes, invested with every attribute of moral and intellectual greatThe fabled knight of poetry successfully rivals the great men of antiquity; Tancred throws Achilles far into the shade; Godfrey, in moral dignity and devotional feeling, towers far above the "pious Eneas;" while Orlando and the pass of Roncevalles (magic names in romance) excite in our bosoms an interest equal to the devoted Spartan, and the pass of Thermopyla.

A fairy creation of truth and honour, love and constancy, too bright, too ethereal, to exist, but in the mind of the poet, has been given; and the light of genius, which has shed its deceptive radiance over the thick darkness of the middle ages, has thrown a halo of truth, honour, and purity, around the character of the ideal knight, which belonged not to a barbarous age. What wonder then, that, forgetful of the real and insuperable disadvantages of this singular institution, and the rudeness, superstition, and ignorance, which it had no power to remove, many should turn from the chronicle to the romance, from the historian to the poet, and listening to his witching numbers, and gazing on his fairy creation of surpassing loveliness, value the brilliant illusions of fiction, beyond the sober light of Truth. E. H.

The Evangelical Ministry exemplified in the Apostle Paul; a Sermon preached in Murray-street Church, New York, N. A. December 2, 1821, on the occasion of resigning his charge of his Congregation: by John M. Mason, D. D.

ACTS XX. 17-27.

"And from Miletus he sent to Ephesus, and called the elders of the church. And when they were come to him, he said unto them, Ye know from the first day that I came into Asia, after what manner I have been with you at all seasons, Serving the Lord with all humility of mind, and with many tears and temptations, which befell me by the lying in wait of the Jews; And how I kept back nothing that was profitable unto you, but have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house to house, Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance

toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. And now, behold, I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there: Save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying, that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God. And now, behold, I know that ye all, among whom I have gone preaching the kingdom of God, shall see my face no more. Wherefore I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men. For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God."

NEXT to our Lord Jesus Christ, the name which figures. most gloriously in the early stages of the Christian story, is that of the apostle Paul. The grandeur of his mind, his intellectual and moral magnanimity, his heroic devotion, his patience in suffering, his powerful genius, his decision, his eloquence, his zeal, shine in every page of his writings, raise the admiration and awe the spirits of his readers, and make them feel that they enter into communion with a being of a superior order. But it is not that peculiar greatness which was inseparable from every act of the man, and excites our veneration while it forbids our rivalship, that creates our deepest interest in his character. Our understandings may be penetrated with light, which has no power of warming our hearts. The most profound respect does not necessarily call forth our love. Our affections must be won; they cannot be stormed. To this principle of our nature, God has been pleased to pay particular regard, in the first heralds of the cross. However diversified their qualities and attainments-whatever be the zeal of one, the potency of argument in another, the intrepid courage of a third, that which bears the sway in all, is their loveliness. Our hearts are captivated by the same process which subdues our understandings. Nothing, for example, can be more fair and unanswerable, than when Paul closes in his argument with the subtle philosopher; nothing more terrible than when he deals out the thunders of God among the gainsayers; and nothing more exquisitely tender, than his carriage toward the timid and scrupulous disciple. If ever a man knew how to wind his way into the human soul-how to coil around him its most sacred affections-how to explore the secret place of tears, and to put in motion all its kindest sympathies, the apostle Paul was certainly that

man.

You know that this has always been with me a favou