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.

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 Ministryand 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.

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, accompa nied with every auspicious omen; advance with alacrity into the field, where God himself musters the hosts to war. Religion is too 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.

"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 conse- "While you have every thing to fear from quences the most certain, though most remote. the success of the enemy, you have every By a series of criminal enterprises, by the means of preventing that success, so that it is successes of guilty ambition, the liberties of next to impossible for victory not to crown Europe have been gradually extinguished: your exertions. The extent of your resources, the subjugation of Holland, Switzerland, and under God, is equal to the justice of our cause. the free towns of Germany, has completed that But should Providence determine otherwise, catastrophe: and we are the only people in should you fall in this struggle, should the the eastern hemisphere who are in possession nation fall, you will have the satisfaction (the of equal laws, and a free constitution. Free- purest allotted to man) of having performed dom, driven from every spot on the continent, your part; your names will be enrolled with has sought an asylum in a country which she the most illustrious dead, while posterity to always chose for her favourite abode: but she the end of time, as often as they revolve the is pursued even here, and threatened with de- events of this period, (and they will incessantly struction. The inundation of lawless power, revolve them,) will turn to you a reverential after covering the whole earth, threatens to eye, while they mourn over the freedom which follow us here; and we are most exactly, most is entombed in your sepulchre. I cannot but critically placed in the only aperture where it imagine the virtuous heroes, legislators, and can be successfully repelled, in the Thermopyle patriots, of every age and country, are bending of the universe. As far as the interests of free- from their elevated seats to witness this condom are concerned, the most important by far test, as if they were incapable, till it be brought of sublunary interests, you, my countrymen, to a favourable issue, of enjoying their eternal stand in the capacity of the federal representa- repose. Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortives of the human race; for with you it is totals! Your mantle fell when you ascended, 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 ill invest it? It remains with you then to

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

Mighty: go forth with our hosts in the day of | channel than can be supplied by the bodily battle! Impart, in addition to their hereditary organs. The plainest, and least inspired of valour, that confidence of success which springs his discourses, are not without delicate gleams from thy presence! Pour into their hearts the of imagery and felicitous turns of expression. spirit of departed heroes! Inspire them with He expatiates on the prophecies with a kindred thine own; and, while led by thine hand, and spirit, and affords awful glimpses into the valley fighting under thy banners, open thou their of vision. He often seems to conduct his heareyes to behold in every valley and in every ers to the top of the "Delectable Mountains," plain, what the prophet beheld by the same whence they can see from afar the glorious illumination-chariots of fire, and horses of gates of the eternal city. He seems at home fire: Then shall the strong man be as tow, and the among the marvellous Revelations of St. John; maker of it as a spark; and they shall burn toge- and, while he expatiates on them, leads his ther, and none shall quench them.” hearers breathless through ever-varying scenes of mystery, far more glorious and surprising than the wildest of oriental fables. He stops when they most desire that he should proceed

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 when he has just disclosed the dawnings of his most rapturous effusions. His voice is the inmost glory to their enraptured mindsfeeble, but distinct, and, as he proceeds, trem- and leaves them full of imaginations of " things bles beneath his images, and conveys the not made with hands," of joys too ravishidea, that the spring of sublimity and beautying for smiles-and of impulses which wing in his mind is exhaustless, and would pour their hearts, " along the line of limitless deforth a more copious stream, if it had a wider sires."

RECOLLECTIONS OF LISBON.

[NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.]

beautiful delineation by the most profound of living poets, of the tender imaginations of a mariner who had been reared among the mountains, and in his heart was "half a shepherd on the stormy seas," who was wont to hear in the piping shrouds "the tones of waterfalls and inland sounds of caves and trees," and

"When the regular wind

On the first of May, 1818, I sailed in one outer courts of splendour, while it feels that of the government packets, from the beautiful they are but for a moment, gay mockeries of harbour of Falmouth, for Lisbon. The voy- the state of man on earth. Often, during my age, though it only lasted eight days, was suf-little voyage, did I, while looking over the side ficiently long to excite an earnest desire for of the vessel on the dark water, think of the our arrival at the port of our destiny. The water which so majestically stretches before us, when seen from a promontory or headland, loses much of its interest and its grandeur when it actually circles round us and shuts us in from the world. The part which we are able to discern from the deck of a vessel, appears of very small diameter, and its aspect in fine weather is so uniform as to weary the eye, which seems to sicken with following the dance of the sunbeams, which alone diversify its surface. There is something painfully restless and shadowy in all around us, which forces on our hearts that feeling of the instability and transitoriness of our nature, which we lose among the moveless grandeurs of the universe. On the sea, all without, instead of affording a resting-place for the soul, is emblematic of the fluctuation of our mortal being. Those who have long been accustomed to it seem accommodated to their lot in feeling and in character; snatch a hasty joy with eagerness wherever it can be found, careless of the future, and borne lightly on the wave of life without forethought or struggle. To a landsman there is something inexpressibly sad in the want of material objects which endure. The eye turns disappointed from the glorious panoply of clouds which attend the setting sun, where it has fancied thrones, and golden cities, and temples with their holy shrines far sunken within

Between the tropics fill'd the steady sail,
And blew with the same breath through days and weeks,
Lengthening invisibly its weary line
Along the cloudless main, who in those hours
Of tiresome indolence, would often hang
And while the broad green wave and sparkling foam.
Over the vessel's side, and gaze and gaze:
Flashed round him images and hues that wrought
In union with the employment of his heart,
He, thus by feverish passion overcome,
Even with the organs of his bodily eye,
Below him, in the bosom of the deep,
Saw mountains-saw the forms of sheep that grazed
And shepherds clad in the same country gray
On verdant hills-with dwellings among trees,
Which he himself had worn."*

I remember, however, with gratitude two evenings, just after the renewal of the moon, which were rendered singularly lovely by a soft, tender, and penetrating light which seemed

* See Wordsworth's most affecting pastoral of "The

Brothers."

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.

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

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 pe--"all bright and glittering in the smokeless rishable 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.

Α

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.

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. Lisbon, like ancient Rome, is built on at pleasant breeze brought us soon to the mouth least seven hills. It is fitted by situation to be of the Tagus, where a scene of enchantment, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. "too bright and fair almost for remembrance," Seated, or rather enthroned on such a spot, burst upon my view. We sailed between the commanding a magnificent harbour, and overtwo fortresses which guard the entrance of the looking one of the noblest rivers of Europe, it river, here several miles in width, close to the might be more distinguished for external walls of that on the left, denominated "Fort beauty than Athens in the days of her freeSt. Julian." The river, seen up to the beautiful dom. Now it seems rather to be the theatre in castle of Belem, lay before us, not serpentine which the two great powers of deformity and nor perceptibly contracting, but between al- loveliness are perpetually struggling for the most parallel shores, like a noble avenue of mastery. The highest admiration and the crystal. It was studded with vessels of every most sickening disgust alternately prevail in region, as the sky is sprinkled with stars, which the mind of the beholder. Never was there so rested on a bosom of waters so calm as strange an intermixture of the mighty and the scarcely to be curled by the air which wafted | meau-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 wretched ing, 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

Old Bailey! What huge criticisms of Corneille
and Voltaire would that little instrument sup-
ply! What volumes, founded on its move-
ments, would it render superfluous! Even
Grecian regularity must yield before it, and
criticism triumph, by this invariable standard,
at once over Sophocles and Shakspeare.
The scenery was wretched-the singers
tolerable-and the band excellent. The ballet
took place between the acts of the opera, and
was spun out to great length. The dancing
consisted partly of wonderful twirlings of the
French school, and partly of the more wonder-
ful contortions of the Portuguese; both kinds
exceedingly clever, but exhibiting very little
of true beauty, grace, or elegance. At the
close of the first act, a perfect shower of roses,
pinks, and carnations, together with printed
sonnets, was poured down from the top of the
theatre in honour of his majesty, whose ab-
sence, however, even Portuguese loyalty can-
not pardon.

exhibit, and which are truly surprising. The be counted out like those of culprits at the Opera House, called the Theatre San Carlos, is, except on a few particular occasions, almost deserted. The audiences are usually so thin, that it is not usual to light up the body of the house, except on particular days, when the rare illumination is duly announced in the bills. I visited it fortunately on the birth-day of the king, which is one of the most splendid of its festivals. Its interior is not much smaller than that of Covent Garden Theatre, though it appears at the first glance much less, from the extreme beauty of the proportions. The form is that of an ellipse, exquisitely turned, intersected at the farther extremity by the stage. The sides are occupied by five tiers of boxes, at least in appearance, for the upper circles, which are appropriated to the populace by way of gallery, are externally uniform with the rest of the theatre. The prevailing colour is white; the ornaments between the boxes, consisting of harps and tasteful devices, are of brown and gold, and elegantly divided into compartments by rims of burnished gold. The The churches are the most remarkable of middle of the house is occupied by the grand the public buildings of Lisbon; though plain entrance into the pit, the royal box, and the on the outside, they are exceedingly splendid gallery above it, which is in continuation of in the interior. The tutelary saints are richer the higher circle. The royal box is from than many Continental princes, though their twelve to fifteen feet in length, and occupies treasures are only displayed to excite the rein height the space of three rows of the com- verence or the cupidity of the people on high mon boxes. Above are the crown and regal and festal occasions. The most beautiful, arms in burnished gold, and the sides are sup- though not the largest of the churches which I ported by statues of the same radiant appear- have examined, is that of the Estrella, which ance. Curtains of green silk, of a fine texture, is lined with finely-varied and highly-polished usually conceal its internal splendours; but on marble, vaulted over with a splendid and this occasion they were drawn aside at the sculptured roof, and adorned, in its gilded same moment that the stage was discovered, recesses, with beautiful pictures. Were it not, and displayed the interior illuminated with indeed, for the impression made on me by one great brilliancy. This seat of royalty is di- of the latter, I should scarcely have mentioned vided into two stories-a slight gallery being this edifice, unable as I am technically to dethrown over the back part of it. Its ground scribe it. The piece to which I allude is not, is a deep crimson; the top descends towards that I can discover, held in particular estimathe back in a beautiful concave, representing tion, or the production of any celebrated artist; a rich veil of ermine. In the front of the but it excited in me feelings of admiration and lower compartment, behind the seats, is the delight, which can never die away. It reprecrown of Portugal, figured on deep green vel- sents Saint John in the Isle of Patmos, gazing vet; and the sides are adorned with elegant on the vision in which the angels are pouring mirrors. The centre of the roof of the theatre forth the vials, and with the pen in his hand, is an ellipse, painted to represent the sky with ready to commit to sacred and imperishable the moon and stars visible; the sides sloping record the awful and mysterious scenes opened to the upper boxes are of white adorned with before him. Never did I behold or imagine gold and crimson. The stage is supported on such a figure. He is sitting, half entranced each side by two pillars of the composite order, with wonder at the revelation disclosed to of white and gold, half in relief, with a brazen him, half mournfully conscious of the evils statue between each of them. It forms an which he is darkly to predict to a fated and excellent framework for a dramatic picture. unheeding world. The face, in its mere form The most singular feature of the house is a and colouring, is most beautiful: its features clock over the centre of the stage, which regu- are perfectly lovely, though inclining rather to larly strikes the hours, without mercy. What cherubic roundness than Grecian austerity, a noble invention this for the use of those who and its roseate bloom of youth is gently touchcontend for the unity of time! How nicely ed and softened by the feelings attendant on would it enable the French critics to estimate the sad and holy vocation of the beloved disthe value of a tragedy at a single glance! ciple. The head is bent forward, in eagerHow accurately might the time be measured ness, anxiety, and reverence; the eyebrows out in which eternal attachments should be arched in wonder, yet bearing in every line formed, conspiracies planned, and states over- some undefinable expression of pity; the eyes thrown; how might the passions of the soul are uplifted, and beaming with holy inspirabe related to a minute, and the rise and tion, yet mild, soft, angelical; around the exswell of the great emotions of the heart deter-quisitely-formed mouth, sweet tenderness for mined to a hair; with what accuracy might the inevitable sorrows of mankind are playing; the moments which the heroes have yet to live and the bright chestnut hair, falling in masses