illustrating universal truths, in unfolding his sublime philosophy, or in painting scenes of natural beauty, than in giving naturalness to his characters and fitness to the circumstances into which he throws them. There is nothing dramatic in our author's muse. There is, indeed, nothing egotistical, nothing of Byron's disgusting my-selfism, in our poet's pure and elevated strains, but every subject and scene and character takes the hue and coloring of his own mind; and you can detect their origin at a glance, not merely from the peculiarities of his style, but from an inner spirit,-a Wordsworthianism—which cannot be mistaken. His characters are not struck off in a moment, by a word, or an incident, as many of Shakspeare's are; but there is an elaborate minuteness of description, an earnest effort to make a full impression, by adding feature to feature, accident to accident; all which is contrary to the rules and spirit of genuine poetry.

Had Wordsworth remained true to his own theory of poetic diction, and carried it out in all his writings with as much fidelity as in a few of his earlier productions, we should consider it necessary to point out a few of its errors; but he has not done so. He has built up his fame, not by means of his theory, but in spite of it; or, rather, by rising above it; he has framed a poetic diction of his own, combining within itself all the elements of strength and beauty, glowing with the richest graces, possessing an unrivalled flexibility and softness, and being withal as individual and as easily recognizable as that of Shakspeare or Milton.

But we must hasten to the second branch of our subject-the moral and religious bearing of our author's writings. To the faithful student of Wordsworth's poetry, not a word need be said on this point; but, if we can induce any to become such by a few remarks on the purity of his moral sentiments, and the depth and intensity of his religious feelings, we shall be well repaid. Words. worth is emphatically a religious, nay, a Christian poet. He has gone to the purest of all sources for his inspiration-the book of God: his soul has been deeply imbued with the love of God and man; when he looks upon the world of nature, it is only to behold in every thing which God has made the impress of his hand; when he looks upon his fellow-man, it is with the warm sympathy of Christian benevolence, elevated and refined by a far-seeing faith; and with his soul thus expanded by the influence of religion he pours forth his songs of high encouragement to man, or humble thanksgiving to God. True to his own sentiment, that "poetry is most just to its own divine origin when it administers the comforts and breathes the spirit of religion," he finds his most congenial employment in imbodying the consolations of his elevated faith in simple narratives, or in lofty odes; and the "spirit of religion" is infused into all his compositions, whether expressly treating of religious themes or not. So that his high praise is, that, although he does not always sing of religion, he sings of all things in a religious mood;-in a frame of mind to be obtained only in answer to such prayers, as

"Father! thou must lead.

Do thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind

By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread :
The fetters of my tongue do thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of thee
And sound thy praises everlastingly."

Works, p. 184.

We claim something more then for the poet than the mere nega. tive excellence, that the general scope of his writings is inoffensive. Could we go no further, however, it would be a higher eulogy than can be bestowed upon any other poet who has written so much, and filled so large a space in the public eye, to say, that in all this large volume, from beginning to end, there is not a stanza; not a line, not a word, which the author "dying would wish to blot," on account of immoral tendency. How striking is the contrast between the judgment that must be honestly pronounced upon the works of Lord Byron, and that which can, with equal honesty, be awarded to those of Wordsworth! In the former hardly a page is to be found unblotted by impurity, indelicacy, or blasphemy! There is grandeur, there is sublimity, there is power; but it is the grandeur of hell-the sublimity of despair-the power of a fiend! He knew not how to describe the pure affections of humanity, for he dwelt in the atmosphere of passion alone; all nature was darkened by his misanthropy; man was to him a libertine-woman a slave! In the latter, the purest mind will find choice fields to roam in, filled with the fragrance of sweet flowers, the flowers of virtue and religion: no unholy thought-no impure imagination— no indelicate allusion, can find a place in his pages: he dwells in an atmosphere of religious purity, never tainted by the breath of sin: he is sublime, but it is in illustrating some great truth of philosophy or religion, or in describing some of the glories of the natural world; and that world is to him an image of its Creator, reflecting from a thousand points the light of His countenance, and exciting within his soul a fervor of devotion such as he himself describes in the following magnificent verses :

"He beheld the sun

Rise up, and bathe the world in light! He looked-
Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth,

And ocean's liquid mass, beneath him lay

In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched,
And in their silent faces did he read
Unutterable love. Sound needed none,
Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank
The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form,
All melted into him; they swallowed up
His animal being; and they were his life;
In such access of mind, in such high hour
Of visitation from the living God,

Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired."

Excursion, book i, p. 397.

But we have a still higher eulogium to pronounce upon our author than the merely negative praise, that his writings, unlike those of Byron, Shelly, Moore, and a host of feebler poets, can do no harm. There is a high moral purpose pervading them all

sometimes more prominent,—at other times less so,—but never lost sight of the purpose, namely, of inculcating the great lessons of confidence in God, of the weakness of human nature, of human responsibility, and of the high dignities to which God calls the mind of man! The reader of these poems is constantly undergoing a process of indirect moral culture; and when he rises up from a careful perusal of any of them, it is not with excited passions, or a fevered imagination, but with his soul subdued by a sense of the divine goodness, or filled with images of beauty from the works of God, or excited to self-examination, or, perhaps, to indignation against himself that he has so long limited his thoughts and confined his affections to the material world around him. He will learn, at least, the invaluable lesson, that

"The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune."

Miscell. Sonnets, p. 185.

Where shall be found a more beautiful spiritualization of sensible things than in the poem "On the Power of Sound?" and where a more sublime song of praise to the great Author of all harmonies than its concluding stanzas?

"Break forth into thanksgiving,

Ye banded instruments of wind and chords;

Unite, to magnify the Ever-living,

Your inarticulate notes with the voice of words!

Nor hushed be service from the lowing mead,

Nor mute the forest hum of noon;

Thou too be heard, lone eagle! freed
From snowy peak and cloud, attune
Thy hungry barkings to the hymn
Of joy that from her utmost walls
The six-days' work, by flaming seraphim,
Transmits to heaven! As deep to deep,
Shouting through one valley, calls

All worlds, all natures, mood and measures keep
For praise and ceaseless gratulation, poured
Into the ear of God, their Lord!

A Voice to light gave being;

To time, and man his earth-born chronicler;

A Voice shall finish doubt and dim foreseeing,

And sweep away life's visionary stir;

The trumpet, (we, intoxicate with pride,
Arm at its blast for deadly wars,)

To archangelic lips applied,

The grave shall open, quench the stars.
O silence! are man's noisy years

No more than moments of thy life?

Is harmony, blest queen of smiles and tears,
With her smooth tones and discords just,

Tempered into rapturous strife,

Thy destined bond-slave? No! though earth be dust
And vanish, though the heavens dissolve, her stay
Is in the WORD that shall not pass away."

Works, p. 179.

How beautiful is the poet's earnest prayer for a grateful heart, and for a constant sense of the divine presence and blessing, contained in the following lines:

"Preserve, O Lord! within our hearts

The memory of thy favor,
That else insensibly departs,

And loses its sweet savor!

Lodge it within us! As the power of light
Lives inexhaustibly in precious gems,
Fixed on the front of eastern diadems,
So shine our thankfulness for ever bright!"

Thanksgiving Ode, p. 228.

The "Ecclesiastical Sketches" contain specimens of our author's best manner; and are not only calculated to throw light upon many obscure passages in the history of early Christianity in Great Britain, but also to excite a spirit of devotion and faith in the reader. In these sketches the poet dwells, first, upon the history of the Church, from the introduction of Christianity into Britain to the consummation of the papal dominion; secondly, to the close of the troubles in the reign of Charles the First; thirdly, from the restoration to the present time. And though each sonnet is complete in itself, the entire series forms a magnificent gallery of historical picures,-separate, yet intimately connected with, and illustrating each other. And although the author's strong attachment to the Church of England is clearly exhibited in the course of these sketches, they are not the less valuable and interesting to us on this account; for we are not among the number of those who suppose that such an attachment is inconsistent with the expansive spirit of Christian love. Wordsworth is indeed a Church-of-England man; but he is a follower of Christ;-a believer of the pure doctrines, and a participator in the high enjoyments of our holy religion; and his labors in poetry have been directed,-not, as some have insinuated, mainly to the end of fixing the Establishment more firmly in the affections of the English people, but to the far nobler and more congenial purpose of showing that the religion of Jesus Christ contains the only sources of genuine happiness, and the only elements of moral progress; that, far from being inconsistent with the most complete development of man's intellectual powers, it is designed to educe all the faculties of his mind, and to elevate them to that perfection for which they are evidently created. Full and strong is the poet's confidence in the adaptation of religion to the wants of man's nature, and in the ultimate triumph of the principles of divine truth over the darkness and corruption that is in the world; and we join heartily with him in the humble hopefulness of the "Conclusion" to the Ecclesiastical Sketches:

"Why sleeps the future, as a snake, enrolled
Coil within coil, at noontide? For the WORD

Yields, if with unpresumptuous faith explored,
Power at whose touch the sluggard shall unfold
His drowsy rings. Look forth! that stream behold,
That STREAM upon whose bosom we have passed
Floating at ease, while nations have effaced
Nations, and Death has gathered to his fold
Long lines of mighty kings-look forth, my soul !
(Nor in this vision be thou slow to trust)
The living waters, less and less by guilt
Stained and polluted, brighten as they roll,
Till they have reached the eternal city-built
For the perfected spirits of the just!"

For the Methodist Magazine and Quarterly Review.

BUSH'S HEBREW GRAMMAR.

A Grammar of the Hebrew Language. By GEORGE BUSH, A. M., Professor of Hebrew and Oriental Literature in the New-York City University. Second edition, corrected and enlarged. New-York, 1839. Pp. 276. Gould, Newman, & Saxton.

THE old dynasty of Hebrew grammarians reigned in uninterrupted succession from David Kimchi through the intervening links of Elias Levita, Buxtorf, Alting, and Schroder, down to the high German and theological doctor GESENIUS. Professor Stuart unhappily raised the wrath of the last despot, by presuming, unasked, to become his infelicitous dragoman. GESENIUS had not enjoyed his supremacy a long time before EWALD changed the order of succession, and by a splendid revolution in the whole science of Hebrew grammar established a new and permanent regime. Professor BUSH, who had hitherto been following with Professor Stuart in the train of Gesenius, has, by a timely revolt, bowed to the new order of things, and promises to be the grand vizier to the new sultan, while Stuart is handed over to the fate of the bow-string. It is true Professor Lee, of Cambridge, attempted a simultaneous revolution with EWALD. But how could a man, with one unwieldy idea, supplant another possessed of ten thousand? The grammar of Professor Lee presents a mass of undigested materials. As an elementary book it is completely a failure. It would make a good grammatical dictionary, if it were only alphabetically arranged; but being merely a catalogue of nouns, a desultory analysis without any prominent organization-a mere cento of stray reminiscences-and the development of one unhappy conceit, that the noun is the primary part of speech-it may be consigned to the fate of all overwrought lucubrations, that is, become the legitimate prey of those who know how to avail themselves of what is useful in it for their own compilations.

The great question is now, Whether Hebrew grammar shall be taught by an arbitrary system, invented by the grammarians, and borrowed from other languages, which is utterly at variance with the nature and genius of the tongue; or whether it shall be elucidated by its own laws, by the philosophy of its own phenomena, interpreted according to the first principles of speech, the primeval