And at what rate and price I have thy love; With all the circumstances that may move :

Of what is fit, and not; forsake thy cage,

Thy rope of sands,

thee

Good cable, to enforce and draw

And be thy law,

While thou didst wink and wouldst not see. Away! take heed!

I will abroad.

Call in thy death's head there; tie up thy fears.
He that forbears

To suit and serve his need,
Deserves his load.

But, as I raved, and grew more fierce and wild
At every word,

Methought I heard one calling, Child!'
And I replied, 'My Lord!'"

It must not be supposed that there was any ignorance, on the part of Herbert, of the advantages he might have gained by selecting an employment that would bring him into the alternately gay and busy ranks of courtiers, statesmen, and ambassadors of the time, or into the first literary circles. He asserts his knowledge of these in

THE PEARL.

Matt. xiii.

"I know the ways of Learning; both the head
And pipes that feed the press, and make it run;
What Reason hath from Nature borrowed
Or of itself like a good housewife spun
In laws and policy; what the stars conspire,
What willing Nature speaks, what's forced by
fire;

Both the old discoveries and the new-found seas,
The stock and surplus, cause and history;
All these stand open, or I have the keys:
Yet I love thee.

I know the ways of Honour : what maintains
The quick returns of courtesy and wit;
-In vies of favours whether party gains,
When glory swells the heart, and mouldeth it
To all expressions both of hand and eye,
Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie,
And bear the bundle wheresoe'er it goes:
-How many drams of spirit there must be
To sell my life unto my friends or foes:

Yet I love thee.

wit,

But thy silk twist let down from heaven to me,
Did both conduct and teach me, how by it
To climb to thee."

The influence of bantering and ridicule, if they were not often employed to turn Herbert from his attachment to sacred things, were yet appreciated by him at their proper worth-if worth it can be called which worth hath none. In one of his song-like lyrics, which has, as many of his poems have, a peculiar music of its own, he quaintly sets forth the influences which he had to resist in "esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures" of the world.

THE QUIP.

"The merry world did on a day

With his train-bands and mates agree
To meet together where I lay,
And all in sport to jeer at me.

First, Beauty crept into a Rose;

Which when I plucked not, Sir, said she, Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those? But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. Then Money came, and chinking still, What tune is this, poor man? said he: I heard in music you had skill:

But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. Then came brave Glory puffing by

In silks that whistled, who but he!
He scarce allowed me half an eye:

But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration:
But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Yet when the hour of thy design

To answer these fine things shall come; Speak not at large, say, I am thine,

And then they have their answer home." And three verses from his poem on the

determination.

more;

I know the projects of unbridled store:
My stuff is flesh, not brass; my senses live,
And grumble oft that they have more in me
Than he that curbs them, being but one to five:
Yet I love thee.

I know all these, and have them in my hand;
Therefore not sealed, but with open eyes
I fly to thee and fully understand
Both the main sale, and the commodities;

"Blest Order, which in power dost so excel,
That with one hand thou liftest to the sky
And with the other throwest down to hell,
In thy just censures; fain would I draw nigh;
Fain put thee on, exchanging my lay sword
For that of the Holy Word.

But thou art fire, sacred and hallow'd fire;
And I but earth and clay: should I presume
To wear thy habit, the severe attire
My slender compositions might consume.
I am both foul and brittle, much unfit
To deal in Holy Writ..

Wherefore I dare not, 1, put forth my hand
To hold the Ark, although it seem to shake
Through old sins and new doctrines of our
land.

Only, since God doth often vessels make
Of lowly matter for high uses meet,

I throw me at his feet."

We might well suppose the strain that follows to have been written at the time of his entering on the sacred function of the pastoral office, if it does not refer to some occasion, when he had a peculiarly strong feeling of unworthiness for the position he had already been holding.

AARON.

"A Holiness on the head, Light and perfections on the breast, Harmonious bells below, raising the dead To lead them unto life and rest: Thus are true Aarons drest.

Profaneness in my head, Defects and darkness in my breast, A noise of passions ringing me for dead, Unto a place where is no rest: Poor priest! thus am I drest.

Only another head

I have, another heart and breast, Another music, making 'live not dead, Without whom I could have no rest: In him I am well drest.

Christ is my only head, My alone only heart and breast, My only music, striking me even dead; That to the old man I may rest And be in Him new drest.

So holy in my head,

Perfect and light in my dear breast, My doctrine tuned by Christ (who is not dead,

But lives in me while I do rest,)

Come, people; Aaron's drest."

It is interesting to find so great a proportion of Herbert's lays in "The Temple," bearing so evident a relation to certain periods in his life. How many struggles of the noblest spiritual beings who have had their abode, and their trials, and their sanctification on earth, have been unrecorded; and how thankfully should we receive the devotional wrestlings of a David, a Paul, or even of a Herbert! To minds properly balanced, and alive to their truest interest, nothing can well be so engaging as the contemplation afforded them, in such cases, of what has been felt and said in their most momentous hours,

by those who have stood highest in God's favour, highest among His devoted servants. There are times when the human spirit needs as it were a voice not its own, to tell its wants, aspirations, or woes, and to plead at the mercy-seat for blessings such and in such measure as the human heart and mind require. Often at those times a song of Zion-a song of one of the children of Zion-is like a clear fountain welling strongly up, in sight of a sun-scorched and weary traveller.

The mind-the mere intellect-may suffice to act as the critic on other poems, but on such as give new life and freshness to sad hearts-hearts withered almost, or parched up by doubt, sin, trial, or sorrow-it is the heart that must be the critic. For, what is the use of the keenest intellect, where the affections that mark the renewed spirit are the principal things in question? In any circumstances, a keen, shrewd, or strong intellect, with little or almost no heart, is a kind of monstrosity or deformity, far more worthy of being shuddered at than any bodily defect; but where the deepest secrets of the heart and its communings with self and with Heaven are concerned, your merely eloquent, keen, smart, witty, worldly critic, even though he be a divine, is about as useful as a blind Hercules would be, in a matter in which clearness of vision was absolutely indispensable. All praise to those who use their wits well. The more mental insight a man has, the better. But there have been ages-are they past ?—when religion has been esteemed, by a large proportion, as a matter for the mere intellect-as a study-something to speak about-to make sermons on-a thing, at the utmost, to keep you healthy, and attentive to sanitary matters, respectable in your neighbour's eyes, and comfortably free from everything like "what poor canting Herbert fell into."-Herbert was a follower of Him who prayed in agony beneath the shadowing olive-trees of Gethsemane, and to whom sin appeared a far more dreadful plague than leprosy. But you, perhaps, O worldly-wiseman! are above seeking to walk in the footsteps of any master.

We have often traced the fruit of Wordsworth's teaching in Tennyson, and sometimes his very words; but it may not seem so true to the poet himself or to his admirers, as we have been inclined to think it, that the poetry of Herbert has had a greater impression on Tennyson's style of thinking than any other poetry. Not that we would accuse Tennyson or his friend Maurice, (who would fain accommodate the Bible and religion generally to the peculiar feelings and expectations of poets, and literary men; 80 that they might not have to stoop too low, like mere unlettered sons of toil or puny intellects,) of being orthodox. Far from it. Mr. Maurice has pretty clearly hinted at his own and Tennyson's freedom from that odious charge. But a style of thinking and speaking-even an earnest or vivid style of expression may be caught up from one man by another, without the result of similar belief or similar practice following. Sometimes, too, there is closer resemblance than we have said between Tennyson's poetry and that of holy George Herbert. The "In Memoriam," which deserves better critics than it has yet found, begins with this invocation

"Strong Son of God, Immortal Love,

Whom we that have not seen thy face By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove;

will be inclined to say with us, that the germ of this poem, which has evidently which is really one of his best, may have cost the modern poet much labour, and ed-it might be invidious to say must have been silently and imperceptibly suggestbeen-by Herbert's on "The World." "Love built a stately house; where Fortune came, And spinning fancies, she was heard to say, That her fine cobwebs did support the frame, Whereas they were supported by the same, But Wisdom quickly swept them all away.

Then Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion,

Began to make Balconies, Terraces,
Till she had weakened all by alteration:
But reverend laws and many a proclamation
Reformed all at length with menaces.

Then entered Sin, and with that Sycamore, Whose leaves first sheltered man from drought and dew,

Working and winding slily evermore,

The inward walls and summers cleft and tore, But Grace shored these, and cut that as it grew.

Then Sin combined with Death in a firm band,
To raze the building to the very floor,
Which they effected, none could them withstand;
But Love and Grace took Glory by the hand,
And built a braver palace than before."

The differences between the two poets are very great indeed; but from the style of Tennyson's thought, from his poetical logic so to speak, we are inclined to think he must at one time have regarded Herbert as "a master." There will be found in the writings of both, a force, a manliness, a condensed fullness of expression,

a suddenness in changing the thought,― only, however, to give a weightier emphasis to the argument, which make one interested, in either case, not only in the

"I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell,

had the stronger sense and the larger heart; Tennyson has a more intoxicating beauty in his poetry; nor is it unlike

the summers of 1852, 1853, and 1854) the plan of sending deputations of their members to various presbyteries in Scotland, for the purpose of advocating the cause of Christian missions, and of making collections in aid of the funds of the Association. How this Scheme has prospered may be learned from the fact, that in the year 1830 the income of the Society was returned at £19, 8s. 3d., from which period the funds gradually fell off, until in 1843 the Treasurer could command no larger a sum than £6, 2s. 0 d.

Its prosperity increased for a few years, although slowly, until the commeucement of the Deputation Scheme, through the first efforts of which the income of the Society for the year 1852 was raised to £51, and for 1853 to £110. The balance sheet for 1854 will give no less evidence of a progressive improvement, which, while it encourages us as a Society, by the prospect of increased eminence, is gratifying only in so far as it puts within our reach the means of increased usefulness.

It is much to be regretted, however, that the labours of several of the summer deputations have not been regarded by many of the ministers of our Church with that degree of interest which their object so well deserves; and that that spirit, which it is so important to altivate and foster in the minds of the future ministers of the Church should have been but too often checked by the most marked disapprobation in quarters where least of all it should have been expected.

Although this is felt deeply by us to be a great barrier to our operations, yet the consciousness of the purity and sincerity of our motives, together with the importance of the end in view, is sufficient to carry us through what we are persuaded can be only a temporary opposition.

For, were our objects more deeply impressed upon the hearts of all, we would be "bid God speed" rather than hindered in the good work; and it will now be the earnest endeavour of the Society, by a zealous performance of duty, under whatever difficulties, to conduct its operations in a Christian and missionary spirit, in the assurance that its aims and objects must, sooner or later, come to be recognized as praiseworthy and useful even by those who at present, through mistaken ideas, look upon it with disfavour.

The Society has at present under earnest consideration the proposition to establish a school in some destitute part

of the Highlands of Scotland, in the view of which steps are now being taken to ascertain particulars as to a suitable locality for such an erection. This Scheme, so feasible in itself, cannot, we think, fail to interest the public mind and that of the clergy in favour of our operations; and we hope that the day is not far distant when, being able to point not only to one or two, but to many schools in Scotland, reared at our expense, as monuments of our zeal, we may have not merely the sympathy of the whole Church in our exertions, but also the satisfaction of having been instrumental in the doing of good, together with the blessing of God in the advancement of His cause, which, as a Society, we ever strive to make peculiarly our own.-I am, Rev. and dear Sir, yours very faithfully,

KYLIUS, THE PASTOR OF SIMPHEROPOL. Towards the close of 1822, a young man, whose whole bearing was marked by strong health and great benevolence, presented himself to the benevolent Blumhardt, at the Mission House at Bâle, requesting him to receive him as pupil missionary. His name was Kylius, a native of the Grand Duchy of Baden, and he carried with him very high certificates. For several years he had been deeply impressed by the word of salvation, and now yearned to go forth to some distant country, to proclaim it to souls who were as yet in ignorance of it. But a serious obstacle stood in his way, -he was marked out in the conscription. Early in the next year, fate would decide if he were to be a soldier or a missionary. This uncertainty made him very sad. "Go," said the holy Blumhardt, "go, my son; if the Father wills you to be a missionary, you will not be a soldier; if He wills you to be a soldier, as such you can be a missionary likewise." Kylius remained some time at Bâle; but when the lottery day drew near, he prepared to return home. He was detained on his way by a most unforeseen occurrence, and did not arrive at Lahr, his native town, until several hours after the selection had taken place. The mayor had drawn a number instead of the absent conscript; it was the highest in the vase. Kylius was a free man! He entered the Institution of Bâle, and remained there for four years. His studies being finished, and that with high honour, he was appointed to go to the Crimea. The Crimea was then the field of a peaceful, happy, and prosperous activity.