The sea-side : a series of short essays and poems, on various subjects, suggested by a temporary residence at a Watering Place

Preface

A Volume, on the subjects treated of in that which is here presented to the public, has appeared to the Author to be particularly desirable for the use of the many, who either annually or occasionally resort to the Watering-places of our coast for health or pleasure. How far he has supplied the desideratum, he must leave to the judgment of others. He cannot, however, refrain from the expression of a wish, unavailing as it may be, that he had possessed leisure and ability to render his production more worthy of acceptance by

-

IV PREFACE.

the religious public. He has done what he could. To shine is not his object. It will satisfy him if he may be useful. While, therefore, he diffidently offers the Volume to his companions in the pilgrimage of life, he, at the same time, humbly commends it to the favour and blessing of their common Saviour.

The Author has adopted the form of a Jpartial narrative, in the arrangement of his materials, with a view of imparting to the whole somewhat more of interest than might have been taken in an immethodical collection, or in a continuous series of compositions.

Bristol, May 23, 1827.

Chap. XV.— The Sea of Atonement. Reflections on

the Atonement of Christ .......... 165 — 172

Chap. XVI. — The Cruise. Progress of Navigation. Invention of the Mariner's Compass. Discovery of America.

Columbus. Rise and Fall of Maritime Nations. 173 — 198

Chap. XVII. — The Slave Ship. Lines from Grahame. The Slave Trade. Sentiments of Pitt and Fox. Cowper's Morning Dream 199—229

Chap. XVIII. — The Missionary Voyage, a Poem. Moravian Missionaries. Lines from Montgomery 230 — 242

Chap. XIX. — Restraint upon the Sea. Canute 243—251

Chap. XX. — The Shipwreck. Discourse upon the

Shipwreck of St. Paul 252—272

Chap. XXL— The Sea-side Hamlet. A short Narrative 27S—279.

Chap. XXII. — Hope the Soul's Anchor. Sabbath Evening. Hymn on Hope. Remarks on Heb vi. 17. 20. Hymn 280—290

CONTENTS. Vll

Pages.

CHAr. XXIIL— The Depths Congealed. Passage of

Israel through the lied Sea. Lines

from Rolleston. Dr. Watts's

Hymn on God's Dominion over

Chap. XXIV.— The Sea Pilgrim, an Allegory. Cowper's Castaway, and Lines to the Rev. J. Newton, on his return

from Ramsgate 308—321

Chap. XXV. — The Sands. Uses of Sand. Deserts. Imagery borrowed from the Sands. Newton's Thought on the Sea-shore. The Rock, a Poem 322—334

Chap. XXVI. — Bathing. Salubrious Qualities of Seawater. Address to Invalids. Lines 335 — 346

Chap. XXVII. — The Latter Day. Remarks on Missionary Institutions. Comment on Hab. ii. 14. Thoughts on Psalm lxxii. 8. Verses on Psalm xcvi v ll. Reflection on Rev. xix. 6. Remarks on Isa. xi. 11. Verses on Isa. xlii. 10. Comments on Isa. lx. 5 ; on Dan. vii. 2 ; and on Luke xxi. 25. Lines on Gen. i. 2 347 — 366

Chap. XXVIII.— The Cavern. Visit to a Subterraneous Cavity. Remarks on Psalm xcv. 4 , . . . . 367—375

Chap. XXIX — The Storm. Scripture Imagery 374 — 387

Chap. XXX. — Jesus on the Sea. Verses 388 — 390

Chap. XXXI. — Evening. Beauty of Autumnal Evenings by the Sea. Verses 391 — S97

Chap. XXXII.— The Depths of Providence. Sunday Evening. Exposition of Psalm xxxvi. 6. Hymn 398—410

Vlll

CONTEXTS.

Pages.

Chap. XXXIII.— A Last View of the Sea. Return home. Lord Byron. Genius. Dr.

Johnson's Remarks on the Last.

Lines on — There was no more Sea 411—416

"Erratum.

Page 78, line 3, for /orm'd, rend fann'd.

THE SEA-SIDE.

Introduction

" A plan has occurred to me," said the Rev. W. Hamilton to his family and a select circle of friends, " which may conduce both to the pleasure and the benefit we expect to derive from our visit to the sea-coast. We shall, I hope, often meet together, and enjoy the sacred intercourse of Christian friendship — an intercourse, which, while it may embrace all the urbanity and refinement of polished society, is conducted upon principles widely differing from those that constitute the basis of worldly associations, and has a freedom and a tact peculiarly its own. In the midst of scenes like these, our thoughts and our conversation will naturally take a colouring reflected from surrounding objects. I wish that we should avail ourselves of the advantages hence arising to

* INTRODUCTION.

us, for illustrating and impressing more deeply on our minds many subjects of high and delightful interest. ' There are animals/ says Dr. Johnson, ' that borrow their colour from the neighbouring body, and consequently vary their hue as they happen to change their place. In like manner it ought to be the endeavour of every man to derive his reflections from the objects about him ; for it is to no purpose that he alters his position, if his attention continues fixed to the same point. The mind should be kept open to the access of every new idea, and so far disengaged from the predominance of particular thoughts, as easily to accommodate itself to occasional entertainment/ My scheme is simply this : that each of our party should employ a part of the time daily assigned to mental improvement, in writing familiar papers, or essays, on scriptural topics, suggested by the scenery before us. These, if you approve my plan, shall be read by the writers in our social parties, like the present. No criticism shall be allowed, that no painful feelings may be excited ; and even approbation shall be most sparingly, if at all expressed, that there may arise no incentives for the encouragement of other emotions, still more to be avoided than the former. The materials may be gathered from the stores of memory, experience, observation, or reading. I wish for no display of authorship, much less for any thing bordering on

INTRODUCTION. 6

literary rivalry. Let a desire to communicate and receive benefit predominate over every other consideration. We are to be left to our own choice of subjects and style, of which our various tastes and the ample number of topics will give an opportunity for sufficient diversity. I will cheerfully contribute my own quota, as an encouragement for you readily to gratify me with yours. I perceive a smile upon your countenances. Speak your sentiments upon my proposal with frankness."

" Father," answered Pascal, the Vicar's eldest son, " neither my sisters nor myself ought to hesitate for a moment at complying with the wishes of a parent, whose kindness and affection have ever rendered obedience as pleasant to his children as it is obligatory. I am fully persuaded of the forbearance, and even partiality, which you will show towards the productions of our youthful pens. For my own part, I will with delight furnish an occasional paper. It will cost me, indeed, something to read my humble lucubrations ; but I shall look for my recompense in listening to the papers of others."

" Like all my father's schemes," said Louisa, " this is inviting and useful. I could almost wish, however, that he had exempted his poor girls from the task he has so kindly proposed. At least I may answer for myself, that little is to be ex-

NTRODUCTION.

pected from my scanty stores. But I am confident that he will implore a divine blessing upon the plan, and upon those who are to bear a part in its execution. This encourages me to pledge my endeavours to furnish my portion of papers."

" My dear sister," added Julia, " you might with more propriety have answered for me, as to the slight expectations that are to be formed upon the poverty of my resources. The youngest and the least experienced might well be left in the seat of a listener. But I too implicitly regard papa's desires to be reluctant to please him."

'"' And why Julia," said Theophilus, " did you not contrive some kind excuse for me. Though I am something your senior in age, you know that I am behind you in attainments, and that my pen is wont to be both slow and dull. Yet would it ill become me, father, to hold back, when my brother and sisters have so cheerfully promised compliance with your wishes. I will do my best. But what does my mother say to the scheme ? I hope that she will not plead her domestic engagements against her taking part with us."

" My dear Theophilus," answered Mrs. Hamilton, " I might appoint you the interpreter of my thoughts. Such a plea as you have suggested, has several times almost escaped my lips, and its validity you cannot deny. The hope that its force had its proper influence upon you all, has kept me

INTRODUCTION. 6

silent during your conversation. As, however, I am appealed to in a manner, which seems to insure me all due allowances, I will not damp the pleasure you anticipate from our union in so proper and advantageous a contrivance, for giving a novel interest to our season of recreation, and for rendering it subservient to the great ends we ought ever to keep in view, the glory of our God and Saviour, and our own spiritual improvement."

" But we do not yet know," resumed the Vicar, " what is passing in the minds of our friends. I hope that they will not hesitate to favour us with their co-operation."

Mr. Willoughby, with his daughter and two sons, cheerfully acceded to the proposal, and the only remaining difficulty was to fix upon the individual who should take the lead, and produce the introductory paper. This difficulty, however, was speedily removed by Miss Willoughby's remarking, that as Mr. Pascal Hamilton had been the first volunteer in the business, after it was suggested by his father, and had recently completed his first academical year at the University, the party might reasonably expect, that he should make a commencement. This point having been amicably settled, it was agreed that the two families should meet again at the house occupied by Mr. Willoughby, on the ensuing Thursday evening.

Chapter II. A First View Of The Sea

The Hamiltons joined their friends on the appointed evening. The drawing room windows commanded a very extensive semi-panorama, bounded on the north and south by long ranges of cliffs and mountains, and on the west by the swelling ocean and the bending sky. The twilight, however, had retired to the northern part of the horizon, and, though it threw into bold prominence the dark blue outline of the mountains, left the rest of the prospect but dimly visible. When the candles had been lighted, and the ladies had taken up their useful employments, Mr. Willoughby requested Pascal to redeem the pledge he had given his friends. A smile of satisfaction, at their commencement of this new and agreeable mode of occupying a social evening, glowed upon every countenance, and

Pascal proceeded to read aloud his paper, which he had entitled

A FIRST VIEW OF THE SEA.

" We were giving a final and admiring glance to the rich inland scenery, that slowly receded from our sight, as we leisurely ascended a lofty acclivity, when the sudden stopping of the carriage announced our arrival at the summit. We instantaneously turned towards the scene, which in a moment burst upon our view. ' The sea ! — the sea ! ' — was the exclamation that immediately broke from our lips, which then immediately closed in a silence, that shrunk from the good-humoured, but unwelcome garrulity of our post-boy. Our eyes rapidly traversed the undulating country that lay beneath us, varied with woods, corn-fields, and meadows ; studded with towns, hamlets, and villas ; and intersected by numerous streams, meeting in one majestic river, upon whose calm and ample tide the sight glided onward to the distant ocean. There our minds reposed, as apparently did its waters, in silent tranquillity broken only by the resumed progress of the carriage. I observed that the waters were apparently at rest, for so they would seem to a spectator at some distance, whether they were actually calm or tempestuous : and I have often made a similar remark when surveying an extensive prospect, in our admiration of which, we lose sight of, or are reluctant to consider, the probable sorrows and passions, which, beneath that calm and attractive exterior, are agitating the unseen population of its cities and villages, its palaces and cottages.

" We now gave utterance to some of the emotions, which in quick succession had been awakened in our minds. It was but a remote and partial view we had caught of the sea, and our rapid descent soon concealed it again : but it had been enough to communicate to us a measure of the delight felt by all, when for the first time, or after a temporaryabsence, they behold - the great and wide sea.' Xenophon and his brave companions in arms recurred to my mind, and I enjoyed the recollection of their enthusiasm, when, towards the close of their celebrated retreat, they reached the heights overlooking the Euxine, and, as one battalion after another gained the summit, joined in the general shout, ' The sea ! the sea ! ' Similar, too, were the feelings of Balboa, one of the earliest adventurers in America, on discovering the Pacific Ocean from the chain of mountains connecting the two continents of the Western Hemisphere. ' When with infinite toil they had climbed up the greater part of that steep ascent, Balboa commanded his men to halt, and advanced alone to the summit, that he might be the first who should enjoy a spectacle he had so long desired. As soon as he beheld the

South Sea stretching in endless prospect below him, he fell on his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, returned thanks to God, who had conducted him to a discovery so beneficial to his country, and so honourable to himself. His followers, observing his transports of joy, rushed forward to join in his wonder, exultation, and gratitude. They held on their course to the shore with great alacrity, when Balboa, advancing up to the middle in the waves, with his buckler and sword took possession of that ocean in the name of the king his master, and vowed to defend it with those arms against all his enemies/ 1 I could not, indeed, compare my feelings, as a traveller on pleasure, and in pursuit of health, either with theirs, who saw, reflected from the surface of the waters, a hope of deliverance and safety from pursuing foes ; or with his, who in a moment built upon the newly-discovered wave the airy fabric of human glory. But I was conscious of pleasurable sensations, for which I was well satisfied to have travelled so far, and to increase them was well content to travel farther. I had caught a glimpse of a new province of creation. Associations, gathered from books, from conversation, and from the graphic regions of the pencil, rushed in upon my thoughts, and I was somewhat impatient at the

1 Robertson's History of America, Book III. B 2 time and distance still intervening between me and the optata arena — the wished-for shore. Is not this, I asked myself, like the glimpse I sometimes obtain of eternity — that boundless ocean, whose waters lave and enclose the insulated space of time? I have not wholly forgotten my strong emotions, when first my mental eye looked beyond the limits of present existence, and caught a view of eternity. From my childhood I had heard and read of that futurity, which is to be ever future, as I had heard and read of the mighty deep ; but my conceptions were faint and unimpressive. My first feelings, were therefore, for a season, overpowering, though my sight was dim and imperfect : and, as often as they are renewed, they leave upon my spirits a solemnity and awe, which, at the same time that it is divested of terror and alarm, superinduces, while it lasts, a comparative indifference to all intervening objects. It never was intended, and our very constitution and temporal circumstances forbid, that our minds should be always engrossed with this stupendous prospect. It cannot be, that such impressions should be permanent and unyielding. But we may and ought to lament that they are so evanescent. They leave, it is true, their effects and influence behind ; and I trust it is our prayer, that these may become increasingly decisive in their character, and extensive in their prevalence. Yet, as travellers, who must shortly reach the shore, and launch upon the deep, we may wish that our earliest impressions of the vast concerns of an eternal scene should leave with us all their vividness and depth. Eternity ! Eternity ! — may we never lose sight of its momentous prospects and interests ! Even if these are not always the immediate subjects of our thoughts, may they exert a latent influence over our whole conduct ; give stability to our principles ; moderate our earthly cares ; and add fervour to our search after "glory, honour, and immortality." We are rapidly traversing a country wherein we are strangers ; and our path is beset by numerous, powerful, and malignant foes. Let us connect with the thought of eternity, the joyful anticipation of a final escape from all the enemies of our souls. We are toil-worn travellers, crossing the narrow and rugged isthmus of time, which separates the eternity that is past, from the eternity that is to come. Let us exult at the near, and ever nearer view of the future ; for in that future — in that emphatically new world, the brightest visions of hope will be more than realized."

" I think," said Mr. Willoughby, to his daughter, as Pascal laid down his paper, " that I saw a passage marked by your hand, in our Bard of the Night, consonant with these coneluding reflections of our young friend ; and, as we have not the book at hand, perhaps you will recite them."

" You refer," answered Miss Willoughby, " I suppose, papa, to these lines" —

And is it in the flight of threescore years To push eternity from human thought, And smother souls immortal in the dust ? A soul immortal, spending all her fires, Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm'd, At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, Resembles ocean into tempest wrought To waft a feather or to drown a fly.

" You might have proceeded," resumed her father, " with the poet's self-application of his admonitory strain. But I know, my dear girl, you are not very fond of making long viva voce quotations."

Chapter III. Creation

On the following morning, the whole party, by previous agreement, met on a rocky part of the shore. It was a very retired spot, and had often been a favourite resort of the young Willoughbys in a former year. The sea appeared to have undermined its strong barrier, and immense masses had slipped in various directions upon the sloping substratum of the cliffs. Here, according to the hour of the day, the state of the weather, or the taste of the visitors, a situation sheltered or exposed, shaded or sunny, might be selected, where, in perfect security, they could watch the flowing and ebbing tides, and yield their minds to those soothing and fascinating emotions, which arise in the soul, and alternately merge each other in such a scene, like the everchanging billows. In these emotions the friends for a while indulged themselves, standing upon the rocky margin of the waters, and admiring the endless variety of motion and form which they assumed. At length they seated themselves on different projections in a shady nook of the cliff, which overhung them ; and the ladies employed themselves in making small articles of clothing for the native children of a foreign mission school.

" Miss Julia," said Mr. Willoughby to the Vicar, " informed my daughter, that you had anticipated your own interesting and improving scheme, by the preparation of several papers on some of the subjects proposed. May we therefore look to you, sir, for our present entertainment ? "

" It is very true," answered his friend, " that I have a few humble attempts to turn to good account the days of relaxation we may spend here. One of these I now have with me, and I will most cheerfully comply with the request you have so kindly made. My paper is on the simple and beautiful sentiment, which daily recurs in our public morning service.

" THE SEA IS HIS, AND HE MADE IT."

" It has often delighted me to witness the interest in this grand object, manifested on the arrival of a family at a watering place. Amidst all the bustle consequent upon that arrival, and notwithstanding the many necessary cares to be attended to, in the selection of a suitable temporary abode, the first moments after reaching the sea-side, are commonly engrossed with the scene in view. Even in fixing upon a residence, many discomforts are overlooked or compromised, and much additional expense is readily incurred, to secure a prospect of the 'deep and dark blue ocean/ We go from window to window, from point to point, to vary or extend our field of contemplation, and we reluctantly close our first ramble on the beach, or withdraw from our post of observation, when the shades of night spread themselves around us. We admire, and, to some extent, feel the enthusiasm of the poet in his apostrophe to the ocean : —

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean — roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shiv'ring in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth :— there let him lay.

The armaments, which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, chang'd in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they ? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : — not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, Calm or convuls'd — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving ; — boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

" Gratitude for the mercies attendant upon travelling, and for the means and opportunity of resorting to the sea-side, diffuses its happy in-

CREATION.

fluence over the Christian's spirit at such a season : nor does it slightly affect him with thankfulness, if the great Giver of all mental endowments has bestowed on him a mind capable of discerning and enjoying the beauties of nature, or rather, the works of nature's God . He will, indeed, pity the character of the mere sentimentalist, whose feelings resemble the relaxed chords of a harp, which wildly vibrate at every touch : but he does not therefore indulge in himself the obtuse insensibility, which views every object, whether of grandeur or beauty, without emotion. His imagination, fervid, yet chastised, aids his faith ; and his faith, limited by divine truth, circumscribes his imagination, though with a compass ample as the universe. The Christian contemplates nature with a new sense, and that sense is a divine faith, given him of God, which, at the same time that it substantiates things hoped for, and convinces of things not seen, invests also visible realities with an attractiveness unknown and unfelt by the man of the world and the votary of pleasure. ' Through faith, we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear ;' and in our visits to the borders of the mighty deep, we shall do well to call our faith into frequent exercise on a point, whereon the saints of earlier days loved to dwell. Their recollections or contemplations of

' the great and wide sea' brought up before them the magnificent operations of Jehovah, when he issued his omnific word, and bade into existence the hosts of his creatures. Let us, with them, revert to the day, when ' the earth was without form, and void ; and darkness was upon the face of the deep ; and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters/ The unorganized mass had just emerged from nonentity, and lay in the view of its Creator ready to receive whatever forms his consummate wisdom might contrive, and his plastic hand might give. After light had followed the word that commanded its existence, and provision had been made by an expanded atmosphere for the elevation of vapour and the suspension of clouds, * God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together into one place ; and it was so : and the gathering together of the waters call he seas. ' It has been often and well remarked, that in the simple fiat of creation there is a grandeur far exceeding all the pomp of language. ' He spake, and it was done. He

COMMANDED, AND IT STOOD FAST.' The mind

is held in mute astonishment on reverting to the day, which witnessed the separation, at the word of the Most High, of the confused materials of our globe into two grand divisions, leaving, however, to the gathered aqueous fluid the dominion of three fourths of the earth's surface, which in the act of separation was sunk into vast cavities of unequal depths, where, as in the hollow of his hand, Jehovah holds the waters, and ■ layeth up the deep in store-houses.' He moves that hand, and those waters rise in mountain billows, whose foaming crests seem to sweep the sky. He holds it still, and they repose in motionless tranquillity. The inspired Psalmist referred to the transactions of the third day of our world's annals, in thoughts worthy of the inspiration under which he wrote. ' Thou coveredst it (the earth) with the deep, as with a garment : the waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled : at the voice of thy thunder they hasted away. They go up by the mountains ; they go down by the vallies, unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over, that they turn not again to cover the earth.' • The waters,' says Bishop Home, ' fled at the Almighty word, like the scattered remains of a routed army ; from the heights of mountains whither they had ascended, they sunk down into the vallies ; from the vallies they retired into the bed of the ocean, and a part of them descended from thence into the great deep thatlieth beneath.' The poet of creation has given us a paraphrase of Moses' and of David's words, in the supposed intercourse between Adam and 'Raphael, the affable Archangel.'

when God said, c Be gathered now, ye waters, under heav'n Into one place, and let dry land appear.' Immediately the mountains huge appear Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave Into the clouds, their tops ascend the sky ; So high as heav'd the tumid hills, so low Sunk down a hollow bottom, broad and deep, Capacious bed of waters : thither they Hasted with glad precipitance, uproll'd As drops on dust conglobing from the dry ; Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct, For haste ; such flight the grand command impress'd, On the swift floods. As armies at the call Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) Troop to their standard, so the wat'ry throng, Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, Soft ebbing ; nor withstood them rock or hill, But they, or under ground, or circuit wide With serpent error wand'ring, found their way, And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, All but within those banks, where rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. The dry land earth, and the great receptacle Of congregated waters he call'd seas.

" Even Jonah, in his hour of peril, when the die was cast, and the lot fell upon him, realized to his reviving faith the divine origin of the waters, and avowed his belief of it amongst the idolatrous mariners. ' I fear the Lord God of heaven, who hath made the sea and the dry land/ Penitent for his heinous sin, and meekly submissive to its punishment, he evidently felt relief from the consideration, that as God had made the sea, as well as the dry land, though he might be cast into its vast abyss, he should not be cast out of the Almighty's hand. The mariners cried every man to his god ; but it is very plain, that they experienced not the composure enjoyed by the guilty but repentant prophet, as he stood upon the brink of the vessel ; for they knew not the Creator of the waves on which they were tossed. An acknowledgment of the same import entered into the adoring prayer of the first Christian church, when threatened by their foes. ' They lift up their voice to God with one accord, and said, Lord, thou art God, which hast made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and all that in them is : — and now, Lord, behold their threatenings.' Similar also was the form of the oath sworn by the Apocalyptic angel in the hearing of St. John. ' The angel, which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth, lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by Him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are ; and the earth, and the things that therein are ; and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer.' It was to this fact — this first principle of religion, but of which, it seems, the feeble mind of man could not inform or assure itself, save through the medium of a revelation from God, — that St. Paul directed the attention of the Pagans of Lystra ; and even the brevity of the moral code admits this recognition into its fourth article. Nor is it one of the least advantages we derive from the light reflected upon us by divine revelation, that as believers our minds are at rest upon this interesting and important point. Tradition but feebly pointed the minds of the wisest Pagans to the true original of the universe ; and their reason as feebly grasped ' this plank from the wreck of paradise, thrown on the shores of idolatrous Greece' and Rome. Let us be thankful that we can look abroad upon our favourite prospects, and feel no doubt whence all we see came into being. The various schemes of ' philosophy, falsely so called/ could never account for the creation of one drop of this ocean that is dashing at our feet. The pupil of nature in vain sat from year to year in her school, and sought for satisfaction at her lips upon the numerous questions that arose in his mind. 2 Those lips were sealed, or opened only in the utterance of oracles ever dubious, and often false. The disciple of Revelation, on the other hand, whether he