undermined his faith in the Pentateuch, are met by the broad and obvious distinction between the moral law, revealed in absolute perfection from Sinai, and the judicial laws of Moses, which, from the very nature of the case, could not admit of absolute perfection, but behoved to be adapted to the existing character and circumstances of Israel as a nation. Some explanation of the precise meaning of the law here given, and of the peculiar character of the slavery referred to, might have made the exposure still more triumphant, and rendered altogether unnecessary the seeming concession that this might be regarded as one of a class of statutes that, in the language of the prophet, "were not good." According to the original, as indicated in the margin of our English Bible, the passage should be read, “If a man smite his servant, or his maid, with a rod, and he die under his hand; he shall be surely avenged,”—that is, by the death of the master, according to the lex talionis expounded in this chapter. "Notwithstanding, if he continue a day or two, he shall not be avenged,"-that is, by the death of his master,-" for he is his money." Anyone acquainted with the original may satisfy himself that this is the meaning of the word translated "punished" in the English text, and that it is quite different from the word "punished" in the following verse, which relates to punishment by fine. The idea, therefore, is, that even in the case of a slave, whose slaughter appeared to be intentional, he should be avenged, as other men, by the death of the murderer, even if that should be his master; but where it could be fairly supposed that the slaughter was not intentional,— for instance, when the slave, beaten by his master, " continued for a day or two,"-this charitable view was to be taken, and the master absolved from the capital punishment to which he was otherwise exposed. The expression, "for he is his money," means nothing more than that it was not for the master's pecuniary interest to murder his slave, and that therefore he was not to be rashly suspected of such an offence.

But this is not all. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that there were two kinds of service in use among the Israelites ;-hired service, rendered by their brethren for debt or wages, over whom they were forbidden to rule with rigour; and bond service, rendered by their heathen captives or tributaries, who became the absolute property of their masters, and were subjected to perpetual slavery. There can be no doubt that it was the latter kind of servants, or, as they are now designated, slaves, to which the law in question refers. But from Deuteronomy xx. 10-18 it may be gathered that this slavery was allowed as a kind of merciful reprieve, in favour of certain of the nations of Canaan, from the sweeping doom of extirpation pronounced against them by Jehovah for their impenitent idolatry and wickedness. It is surely unnecessary to explain, that He who might have executed this doom by famine, or pestilence, or fire from heaven, was entitled either to execute it by the exterminating sword of Israel, His people, or to grant any remission of it that He pleased. It did please Him, in regard to certain of the people who had thus forfeited not merely liberty, but life, to relax the sentence of death, by converting it

into a sentence of perpetual slavery. Viewed in this light, the statute so impugned, instead of requiring any apology, as if it were not good, must, on the contrary, be regarded as a remarkable example of the spirit of mercy and humanity by which that ancient dispensation was pervaded, protecting, as it did, the life even of these respited slaves from murderous cruelty on the part of their Hebrew masters, by the penalty of death.

What has now been stated will be seen to apply not merely to the infidel objection of Bishop Colenso, but also to any attempt to defend the practice of modern slavery by the laws of Moses. These laws distinctly prohibit man-stealing as a capital crime, and, by necessary consequence, the holding of any fellow-creatures in bond service, but such as have forfeited liberty or life to the laws of God and man.-Correspondent of "The Witness."

LADY HUNTINGDON AND HER ARISTOCRATIC FRIENDS.

WHEN the Countess of Huntingdon was endeavouring to obtain funds for the purpose of building the Tabernacle at Bristol, she wrote to two noble friends, the Earls of Bath and of Chesterfield, soliciting their aid in her arduous undertaking. Subjoined are the replies she received. Lord Chesterfield's letter is dated, June 18th, O.S., 1749 :

"REALLY, there is no resisting your Ladyship's importunities. It would ill become me to censure your enthusiastic admiration of Mr. Whitefield. His eloquence is unrivalled, his zeal inexhaustible; and not to admire both would argue a total absence of taste, and an insensibility not to be coveted by anybody. Your Ladyship is a powerful auxiliary to the Methodist cabinet; and I confess, notwithstanding my own private feelings and sentiments, I am infinitely pleased at your zeal in so good a cause. You must have twenty pounds for this new Tabernacle, whenever you think proper to demand it. But I must beg my name not to appear in any way.

"Lady Chesterfield sends her best compliments, and will reply to your letter in due time. She is active amongst her friends, and I doubt not but you will reap the benefit of her solicitations. It is gratifying to learn that the air of Clifton agrees so well with your family. Tell Lady Fanny I have not received an answer to my last letter. With best wishes for the success of all your disinterested acts of benevolence to the human race, and kind regards to all your circle, I remain

"Your Ladyship's most faithful friend and servant,
"CHESTERFIELD."

Very different is the letter of the Earl of Bath, who appears to have had his heart touched by the transforming influence of Divine truth.

"MADAM,—It gives me unfeigned pleasure to hear of the good effects of Mr. Whitefield's preaching at Bristol, and amongst the colliers; and I feel

indebted to your Ladyship for an opportunity of contributing towards the furtherance of so good a cause; firmly persuaded that the finger of an unerring Providence will point out some other and far distant lands—yet uncultivated, yet unblessed with the light of Divine truth-where the ministration of our excellent friend, aided by your Ladyship's zeal and liberality, shall perform those mighty deeds which shall overwhelm generations, yet unborn, with gratitude to the kind Author of all our mercies for His astonishing goodness displayed towards the sinful race of man. Mocked and reviled as Mr. Whitefield is by all ranks of society, still I contend that the day will come when England will be just, and own his greatness as a reformer, and his goodness as a minister of the most high God.

"When shall we have the pleasure of seeing your Ladyship in London, and hearing those great and excellent men who have preached so frequently in your drawing-rooms to such crowded and distinguished assemblies? Many are inquiring after you. Many feel the loss of your bright example; and many are desirous of knowing the narrow path to eternal life. I earnestly beg your Ladyship's intercession on my behalf, that, amidst the bustle, cares, and anxieties of public life, I may have my mind roused only by the great concerns of an eternal world, and fixed on those scenes of immortality to which we are all quickly hastening. Present my respects to Lady Fanny, Lady Anne, &c.; and believe me, with every sentiment of respect and veneration for your worth,

"Your Ladyship's unalterable friend,

"BATH."

"P.S.-I have sent fifty pounds to your Ladyship's banker, to be placed to your credit."

PAGES FOR THE YOUNG.

VI.-INFLUENCE OF MILTON ON LATER POETS.

SUCCESSIVE ages have seen new forms of thought, and various methods of expression. The voice of nature has never failed of attention, when interpreted to men by her most gifted children; nor has vicious construction, want of understanding, or even gross distortion, succeeded in lessening the authority of her constant lessons. Our British poetry may be said to have begun with Chaucer. It sprang to light almost full-grown, majestic in strength, and in form lovely as the day. It matched the age which gave it birth. England was then in the flush of conquest. The throne was filled by the greatest warrior of his time, around whom were stalwart sons, renowned in battles. Nor was the court wanting in the lustre which intellect diffuses. Italy could, indeed, claim a poet of worth and fame; but she was as far from rivalling England, as Petrarch from comparison with Chaucer. The fearless Wycliffe, who never ceased denouncing the evil deeds of the friars, was beginning that great work of reformation which prepared the way for Ridley and Latimer. Amid the darkness

which pervaded the land, his translation of the Bible was causing a bright ray to shine; and the doctrines of the word of God were already moving the great heart of England to life, courage, and liberty. It was the opening of a bright spring morning, to be, alas! too soon obscured by the mists of ignorance and prejudice. In the fires which consumed the Lollards, the spirit of poetry seemed to expire also: for, until the dawning of the Elizabethan age, no successor to Chaucer's lyre appeared. But, when the truth, revived upon the Continent, came to our shores, the dormant life of the nation seemed to rise once more. The English Church was emancipated .from the control of the Bishop of Rome; our commerce spread from the steppes of Russia to the Spanish main, and from the islands of the sea to the glowing Indies; arts and arms were triumphant; and over every sea, and over every land, the British name was feared and respected.

Stars of In these circumstances, literature could not but flourish. magnitude arose; and the names of Spenser and Shakspeare gild a magnificent age. But, as yet, no poet had arisen who made virtue his chief end, heaven his chief subject, and the fall and redemption of man his crowning theme. There was endless beauty in Spenser, immortal wealth in Shaksage from peare; but it required a mighty hand to turn the attention of the time to eternity. This Milton accomplished. It is not by the "Comus," or the "Samson Agonistes," or "L'Allegro," that we remember him; it is with "Paradise Lost" that his name is for ever connected. Englishmen glory in a poet more sublime than Homer, more correct than Maro; one who surpasses "all Greek, all Roman fame." From Milton nearly all succeeding poets have borrowed largely; and many have drunk deeply at his fountains. He inspired the muse of Akenside, of Young, of Cowper; and infused life, beauty, and sentiment into the verse of Wordsworth. But the effects were not immediate. When the strains of "Paradise Lost" were given to the world, the corruption of morals was at its height. Dryden's plays were delighting shameless audiences. "Tried at once by pain, obloquy, poverty, and blindness, Milton meditated, undisturbed by the obscene tumult which raged around him, a song so sublime, and so holy, that it would not have misbecome the lips of those ethereal Virtues whom he saw, with that inner eye which no calamity could darken, flinging down upon the jasper pavement their crowns of amaranth and gold."

The Restoration did not entirely quench the old Puritan spirit. Andrew Marvel, conspicuous in that age as the first of wits, and the first of patriots, was a disciple and admirer of Milton. But the influence of the great poet is, perhaps, to be more distinctly traced in the works of Addison, than in those of any other author of the early part of the eighteenth century. At a time when poetry was but beginning to recover from the licentious taste of the Restoration, we find a marked contrast to the verses of Lovelace, Sedley, Carew, and Suckling, in the beautiful hymns of Addison. That exquisite ode, "How are Thy servants blest, O Lord!" first woke the genius of Robert Burns. But more remarkable than Addison's poetry are

his inimitable essays. Their influence for good on subsequent literature cannot be calculated. There abounds in them a kind of prose-poetry,—a chaste simplicity and purity of style which must ever be pleasing. The Christian spirit of Addison, moreover, spread to most of his contemporaries. Many of the minor poets, whose chief lustre is reflected from their friendship with Addison or Pope, manifested a high regard to morals, as well as a natural style of expression.

But, of all the poets of this era, none, perhaps, drank more deeply of the fountain which Milton had opened, than Dr. Edward Young. With all the artificiality of his age, and with all his courtly subservience, the author of the "Night Thoughts" has left us a poem of enduring merit. It has been said that the French consider Shakspeare barbarous, and cannot appreciate "Paradise Lost ;" but that the "Night Thoughts" have been excellently translated into their language, and are much admired. Truly, there is a wonderful fertility of fancy, with a variety of happy combinations and antitheses, throughout the poem. Sound sense is joined to magnificent— sometimes turgid-imagery; and maxims of the greatest weight are taught in illustrations the most various, and language of more than common force. The brightness of sacred truth rises, like sunshine, over the gloomy and sometimes intricate recesses of the poet's imagination. More than one of Young's finest passages may remind us of his predecessor. Here is an apostrophe, not very often equalled since the days of Milton:

"O majestic Night!

Nature's great ancestor! Day's elder-born,

And fated to survive the transient sun!

By mortals and immortals seen with awe;" &c., &c.

Another great master of blank verse, James Thomson, revered the genius of Milton. Perhaps no compositions of this class have been more generally read than the "Seasons." A love of nature seems almost inseparable from Thomson's poems: they are, indeed, the echoes of nature's own voice. This author had not Milton's care and judgment; but, with a great deal of his pedantry, he had not a little of his grandeur. The first words that came to mind seemed to him most fitted to set forth the artless beauties of his theme. The spring of the "Seasous" blossoms, and gives forth its fragrance, like a daisied meadow; the summer-landscapes glow with the sultry warmth and all the luxuriance of June; the harvest-fields and orchards of the autumn hang heavy, and, as it were, visibly embrowning in the sun; and we see and hear the driving of the winter-snows, as if all the air were thickened with innumerable flakes. Milton contributed to Thomson's breadth and purity of style, and to the wonderful fidelity of his descriptive muse.

Robert Blair, also, was an admirer and not unsuccessful imitator of Milton. Like him, he was animated by a true and deep-seated devotion. Though his greatest work, "The Grave," is somewhat fettered by a stiff, Scottish mode of thought, yet in execution it is masterly. The subject is

VOL. IX.-FIFTH SERIES.

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