With all the love in the world for good literature, and none the less for novels of the good old stamp, as a portion of literature, we yet confess religion is too holy a thing to be bandied about in lively dialogue, or defended with the supercilious condescension of arrogant eloquence. Other forms of composition are better adapted to impress moral precepts, or warm by pure devotion, or excite by passionate appeals, or enlighten by the inductions of reason. The divine muse of sacred poesy is reviving from the lethargy in which she lay buried for the greater part of the eighteenth century. The rich strains of the minor religious poets of the seventeenth century are now reproduced, and rising from a new choir of contemporary bards. The songs of Zion fascinate the sense, while they purify the heart. The well of life requires no such filtering as the poisoned fountain of Helicon, to drink only of the pure essence of poesy. The pulpit is more especially the source whence should flow invigorating streams of the water of the River of Life, to cheer and fortify the soul. That these ends are not in all cases so answered, is a crying evil. The history of good men, who have actually lived and struggled with temptation and fortune, if truly and dramatically related, should at least equal a fictitious narrative of the ideal good man. The history of the church is a history of human nature, and full of rich instruction. For direct precept or discussion, the moral essay, the review, the religious periodical, are always open. Aud it is indeed matter of especial wonder how, with the rich theological literature of England, any poverty should be felt of religious reading for the most fastidious scholar; or the necessity of resort to novels for doctrinal or practical instruction. Perhaps the best thing to be done, is, with all humility and respect

for the great names and greater minds of the elder English writers, to point out the several excellences of each, and thereby persuade to a study and contemplation of them. This we have always honestly endeavored to do, however feeble or imperfect may have been the execution of our purpose.

V.

LITERARY AMBASSADORS.*

THE recent appointment of two of the most elegant-minded men our country has yet produced, as foreign ministers to two of the most powerful courts of the old world, has led us to the consideration of the many great authors, sometimes poets, who have heretofore graced the same honorable office, and thence our subject has carried us into incidental reflections on the connection subsisting between politics and literature. Our country, we may remark in passing, is not only safe, as certain cautious writers observe, in such hands as those of the accomplished Everett and the tasteful Irving, but it is even highly honored by such representations. Since her earliest connection with us, England has never given us so fair a specimen of her race as we now present her with; except perhaps when the amiable enthusiast, the eloquent Bishop of Cloyne, visited our shores. And Spain, since the days of Cervantes, has been unable to exchange with us the equal of Washington Irving. Our two great countrymen may compare in literary merit and social worth with the lettered statesmen of an earlier age in England's literary history, and are, with the Sidneys, the Wottons, the Herberts, of a purer epoch.

* 1842.

From the earliest dawn of civilisation, the ruler has been, in the noblest instances, always something more than a mere ruler. He has been, also, a priest; frequently, an orator; and sometimes a poet. Moses, and David, and Solomon, among the Jews-Pericles was an orator and a critic: Demosthenes a great orator: Cicero, a moralist and rhetorician: Cæsar, a general, an author, an orator, and indeed an universal genius. But to confine ourselves to great Englishmen alone, and to those of that nation employed in embassies, Dan Chaucer, the morning star of English poetry, was sent abroad on a political errand, and passed the greater part of his life at the courts of Edward III. and Richard II. In the time of Henry VIII. we meet the names of the courtly Surrey, the poet and lover, as well as the knight and courtier, and the all-accomplished Lord Herbert (elder brother to George Herbert). Spenser was, if we are not mistaken, entrusted with a commission of statistical survey, or something of the sort, which led to his work on Ireland. All the great prose writers and poets of Elizabeth's time took a deep interest in policy, except the dramatists. At home, Bacon, and Burleigh, and the Cecils, and Selden, and Hooker, and Coke: "abroad, in arms," Sidney and Raleigh (twin brothers in genius and glory), and those gay rivals for the favor of the maiden queen, Essex and Leicester. The great dramatists seem to have been too deeply and too delightfully engrossed by creating fair visions of their own, to trouble their heads much with the concerns of this sublunary planet.

The reigns of the first two Stuarts were highly favorable to letters, both in church and state. Then were the high loyalist divines well rewarded for their learned devotion and eloquent zeal. Then arose that galaxy of brilliant

names, Taylor, and South, and Barrow, and Donne; and that rare class who combined the elegant scholar, the high churchman, the accurate man of business, the high-toned royalist, and the fine gentleman, in a proportion and degree we have seldom seen since. Of this class was Sir Henry Wotton, who was sent abroad on three several missions of an important nature, and finally ended his days as provost of Eton college. His name is embalmed for ever in the epitaph of Cowley, and his fame perpetuated in the artless gossip of Izaak Walton. Howell, the letter-writer, was employed in the same way. So, too, was Dr. Donne, who went to France as secretary to his noble patron; Cowley filled a similar station; and Quarles, who at one period was cup-bearer to the famous and beautiful queen of Bohemia. The list of great names might be much lengthened by reference to books; but we are quoting from

memory.

During the commonwealth the claims of literature were by no means overlooked. The parliamentary leaders were men of education, as well as of great natural abilities; Pym, Hampden, and Sir Harry Vane. The sagacious Protector himself selected the best men for his own service. The greatest poet of all time was the private secretary of Cromwell, and his assistant Marvell was a true patriot and man of fine genius. Howe and Owen, the two greatest divines of that day, were the Protector's chaplains. The former of these Robert Hall pronounced to be superior to all the divines he had ever read, and to have given him more just ideas on theological subjects. The latter was the champion of the Independents, and is still regarded by his sect as a Hercules in controversial theology.

On the restoration of Charles II., those divines, and law