THE PSYCHOLOGIST. • THE PSYCHOLOGIST; WHENCE IS A KNOWLEDGE OF THE SOUL DERIVABLE ? POETICAL, METAPHYSICAL, AND THEOLOGICAL ESSAY. J FREDERICK S. THOMAS, LONDON. W. H. DALTON, COCKSPUR STREET, CHARING CROSS. MDCCCXLIV. X4A7 PRINTED RY J. MITCHELL AND CO., (LATE BRETTELL,) RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET. / s?° /3$ PREFACE. The accompanying Poem was written for the purpose of leading the mind of a friend, who had indulged in many unfounded fancies relative to the materiality of the Soul, who had attached undue influence over the destiny of Man to the movements of the planetary bodies, and who had allowed Socinian delusions to displace in his mind the pure doctrines of Christianity, to a serious review of the inconsistencies of the metaphysics of the Heathen phi- losophers ; to an admission of the fallacies of the ex- ploded science of Astrology; and to the acceptation of those blessed truths which are set forth in " The unerring Word of God * The mode by which such a revolution of feeling and opinion was attempted, may, perhaps, require some VI PREFACE. explanation. It was not deemed expedient to meet these errors with abrupt and serious arguments, but it was con- sidered advisable to lead the mind, by the most vivid and startling images, into the very labyrinth of these fallacies, until it should become satiated with its absurdities, and bewildered in its attempts to extricate itself from its per- plexities; and then to offer a solution, to point to the only guide which man should follow in his search for all knowledge relating to the Soul, and to show the only means by which he can secure eternal happiness in " the world which is to come." The first book of the poem embodies many of the doubts which arise, and many of the doctrines which yet gain credence in the minds of men. The second book shows, and in some degree corrects, many of the systems which still find advocates in unrestrained and fertile minds. The latter book briefly sets forth the Christian religion, as opposed to all other systems of moral instruction and spiritual controul. It may, perhaps, be asked, why such serious considerations should be set forth in verse ? The reply is, that poetry is the natural language of the soul, when Thought wanders amongst the heavenly bodies; that more forcible and lasting im- pressions are made by the brevity and harmony of verse, than could be effected by the more sober form wherein we usually convey our thoughts; and that poetry alone PREFACE. Vll admits of such rapid revolution of images as was necessary to exemplify the bewildering influences of metaphysical and psychological absurdities, as propounded in the systems of former times. 18, St. George's Place, February 28th, 1844. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. BOOK I. Entoocattott. Spirit of Nature ! Spirit that rules the Night ! Thou art opening now splendours of Heav'n to sight. Ye Spirits, hail ! Before ye now I'm bending ; Your influence give, — it is on Mind descending ! Spirit of Nature ! Israel's' shepherd King Thou fore-time taught'st Creation's works to sing ! What thou did'st give when bright his Mind was soaring, To me impart, for Light I'm now imploring ! Spirit of Nature ! No Land there is, nor Tongue, Where thou art mute, or yet thy praise unsung ! Each day to day, to listening Globes appealing ; Each night to night mysteries of space revealing ! B £ INVOCATION. Spirit of Darkness ! Genius of Gloom and Night ! Darkness of this, our Globe, but Nature's light ! Thou openest worlds that distant Heaven possesseth ; My Soul and Tongue thy magnitude confesseth ! Spirit of Darkness ! But now for Night and Thee The Stars were veiled in deep obscurity ! No thought had Man of worlds that wheel around him, Research would end where matter-tie hath bound him ! Spirit of Nature ! Canst thou now tell or give The germ innate that makes dense matter live ? Not now am I thy widest grandeur grasping, But seek the Soul my bosom seems enclasping. Spirit of Nature ! Be deaf no more to me ! Reveal this truth, or teach this mystery ! Surely the Soul, within my body dwelling, Is not unknown, its power beyond thy telling ? Spirit of Nature ! Resume thy place again ! My Mind's desire thou can'st not now explain ! I seek, in thee, the Soul ! Thou'rt dark before me ! I'm lost in doubt ; a shadowy veil's thrown o'er me ! Spirit of God ! In Revelation shown, This vital truth proceeds from Thee alone ! Knowledge of this (which Time and Nature hideth), Knowledge that Soul from substance — dense divideth ! INVOCATION. 3 Spirit of God ! Thy Word's the Light-divine That sheds its beam on Souls, dark souls, to shine ! Than Nature's light far more thy dear Word giveth ; When Matter dies, it tells how Spirit liveth ! Spirit of God ! Without thy vital spark How dead our Souls ! our vacant Minds how dark ! The fiend, in Man, delusion then begetteth, When Man, in Thee, the fount of Truth forgetteth ! Spirit of God ! Within this Soul of mine Shed thou, oh shed, one ray of Light-divine ! Give Spirit — Thought ; to Mind and Thought, inquiring, The knowledge grant that now my Soul's desiring ! Spirit of God ! Thou'st promised here to all Who wait on Thee, and oft for fulness call ! For wandering souls, and weak ones too, thou seekest, I've wander'd oft, and yet I am thy weakest ! Spirit of God ! Thy fulness then impart ! Give Thought its strength, vigour to this my heart ! Give me to mount until my Faith hath found thee ; And then rejoice with Angels pure around thee ! Spirit of God ! Direct my wandering pen, Whilst I, this night, disclose to fellow men How I essayed the Soul to weave in story, And thine the praise, the honour be, the glory ! Entrottttctton* The Soul ! — Whence born — and what its destiny ? Problems proposed for test and scrutiny, But ne'er resolved ! A subject this, we find, With fitful awe, recurring oft to Mind ! Chaining awhile the Thought ; claiming the Ear Of vice, which reels in riotous career ! Sealing the lip, and forcing pensive sway On Mirth, and Joy, and Glee, in fullest play ; The Conscience grasping too, with stern arrest, Which binds each heart, and fastens thus each breast. Your Mirth — why shown ? Gladness — where doth it tend ? Vice — Passion — Feeling — where can, where do they end ? To paint, or verbally define that Soul ; Its cost to count, or estimate controul ; To name its source, duration here, or worth, As 'tis compared or weighed with things of Earth, Draws ridicule on him who such solution tries, And makes him seem " above what's written, wise," And thence, bespeaks a Fool ! And yet, to give No single thought to how or why we live ; INTRODUCTION. Nor seek, with care, the principle within, The secret source where Life and Mind begin, Would sink proud Man beneath the senseless brute, * And would proclaim that Mind quite destitute, Devoid of Reason's ray ! The Soul /—Where found ? 'Twere scheme, most wild, to seek all Nature round ; And yet we're thither led ! But those can tell Who there have sought that imperceptible. How wide, how wild, from steadfast truth we stray, How far we pass, in this false course, away ; Guided and borne, by Matter's strong controul, From that true fount, the Spring, the Source of Soul ! But yet some flowers beneath our path do spring, Whose charms may cheer and bless our wandering ; And many a tint, and many a beauteous hue Some air-blown sphere just opens here to view : Well pleased, we would the glittering globe possess — It bursts, and spreads, to vapoury nothingness ; And mimic showers proclaim its tints all won, As borrowed rays reflecting central Sun ! Such seems, when sought, the Soul ! Yielding to Tiew Its features bright, but evanescent too ; And opening thus, to mind, interests which tell That Time shows not, nor hath a parallel ! 6 INTRODUCTION. Interests — which make Creation's wonders seem More light than dust which lines the balance-beam, Mote-weights in such a Scale ! There was a day Now rolled with Time, and passed with youth away ; When I would grasp, did grapple too the Thought, My Fancy, Reason, Feeling, all were brought, Yet these were impotent ! For then, the Soul Did baffle search, and burst the Sight's controul ! Yet rays of Thought, which seemed like Truth, were mine, I pen them here — Reader, or Friend — they're thine. 'Twas Evening's hour. Adown the gilded West The smiling Sun, his bed, now sought, of rest, Pillow'd and clothed in clouds. The Sky and Sea Did brightly glow with beams of Deity ; And sounds melodious, J ike Nature's prayer, ' Seemed Heaven-ward borne, on pure and balmy Air. There swelled, and breathed, a mystic Eloquence, Like hearts inspired, when prayer^deep, full, intense, The aid of speech disdains ; and more than " dearth" We then affix to songs, most bright, of Earth ! Faith's full, unutter'd prayer ! Which ruffles not The Silence-soft that lists around the spot ,• And yet, that breathing's heard in Courts above, And God repays such worship-mute with Love ! E'en such the hour ! Beauteous, and soft, and mild, Was Nature's face, and every feature smiled. Far-spread, and distant seen, the glittering sea Did rest in peace, and calm profundity, Drinking bright beams, until, from shore to shore, It waved, and moved, a mass of molten ore ! But what was this to me ? What, though that Sun His glorious course, in golden paths, did run ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. What — though, to happier minds, to eye of Mirth, Peace smiled in Heaven, and praise arose from Earth, Whilst I, whose brow the breath of Ocean fanned, Could not controul, or sympathy command ; But stood, upon the Mountain's topmost height, A crushed and broken thing ! — Troubling the sight — Offending Nature's ear with sighs, and moans, And prayers suppressed, and uncongenial groans, And mental agony ! What did I there ? A child of grief, amazement, and despair ! Oh ! I had looked upon the face of Death ! Had watched the frame sigh forth its latest breath I Had seen the soul so silently depart ! So fail the pulse, so cease the throbbing heart I Had seen, with all a Father's painful care, A few short hours before, my child, so fair, Young life in every limb, and every sense, Transcript of God, emblem of innocence, Stricken for death, and turn, upon my breast, From all I late had fondled and caressed, Unto a thing of earth ; beauteous to see, Now touched with awe, approached most tremblingly ; No longer mine ; too pure, too undefiled ; Heiress of Death, and slow Corruptions child ! This was a day that scarce can be renewed, Or matched amidst the strange vicissitude Which long hath marked, with hopes and sorrows rife, The changing scenes which charge my changing life I THE PSYCHOLOGIST. When all the avenues of grief and woe, A Christian's heart, or parent's soul can know, Were ope'd so wide that Faith could not restrain The feverish tide of doubt which rack'd my brain ; And made me then, whilst scourged beneath His rod, Almost to doubt the Providence of God, And thence, His love reject ! Ah now — e'en now, Methinks I feel my hot and feverish brow All stung with bare remembrance of that hour When forth I rushed beneath delirium's power, With heart and soul, by sudden sorrow riven, To cool my veins beneath the dews of Heaven ! Moments there are, in this our fleeting state, An age of time cannot obliterate ; Moments, so pressed with thought, each throb appears A life- time's span, a cycle- thread of years ! And times there are, dark hours of deepest woe, Apportioned here, destined for man to know ; When every chord, by bounteous Nature given, By some deep shock, is so unstrung and riven, That as our hearts are lacerate and torn, We wonder much Nature should fail to mourn ! And when the pure, the all-that's-lovely, dies, We look for tears, and seek for sympathies In Heaven, on Earth, in each and every state, In rational things, and things inanimate. 10 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Oh God ! my God I To feel each hope destroyed, Each heart's-joy crushed, the mind a perfect void ; A perfect chaos-bed, of nerves laid bare, And touched by caustic hand of deep despair, Until, beneath the throes of mental pain, (As would the brute) the tongue can scarce refrain From braying forth, howling unto the wind, The gnawing grief, the torture of the mind ! Ah ! then the lightning-flash, by Vengeance flung ; — The tempest's rage, the thunders threatening tongue ;- The roaring storm, the chafed and troubled sea, Congenial seem, and soothe with sympathy ; Whilst those, the softest charms of Nature's smile, Which, joyous hours, sweeten and oft beguile, Seem but to show what callous things they be To mock our grief, and smile at misery ! But mark the Providence of God displayed ! Had Nature then in vengeance been arrayed ; Had there been ought to sting the troubled mind, To fearful deeds of madness pre-inclined ; Had there been ought the wild-blood to inflame ; What desperate deed, what rashness can I name Whereat I might have paused ! Nature's appeal Softly was breathed my wounded soul to heal ; And all the stubbornness of mind and knee Did bend to Fate, and bow to God's decree ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 11 Deep, solemn thoughts, which I will now impart, Came pressing on, and seemed to bear my heart Swiftly away, with my lost infant dear, Beyond this suffering world, beyond this sphere, To worlds of bliss, which even now do hold ('Tis no vain hope, no dogma false and bold) The breathless soul, which I would here retain, But gone, would hope, by Mercy to regain In better worlds than this ! But first arose Dark doubts and fears, aberrant mental throes, Which did a soul deny ! — I questioned so — Of that lost soul what can — what do I know ? What is the soul ? Who can describe or tell How first possessed, or where, e'en now, doth dwell The spirit of that clay, now stretched upon its bier, Cold — cold — in death, moistened with many a tear ? It yet hath grace ! Beauteous was she from birth ! But soon, too soon, a mass of native earth Is all, my Child ! a Father's eye shall see, All he shall find, my Child,— my Child \— of thee ! Oh God ! in mercy now receive my prayer ! Speak to my heart, and to my mind declare, Can I indulge one hope, one single ray That, after death, beyond the Judgement-day, I shall again that angel-face behold, As marble now, spotless, and blanched, and cold I 12 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Can living fire, e 1 en from th' Eternal fount, Combat this death, his icy chill surmount ; Impart^unto this infant's tender form, A strength to rise, and Death and Hell disarm ; And casting back th 1 assailing Tyrant-foe, Burst from the bonds of bitterness below Into the realms of endless joy above, Reserved for such, by boundless, ceaseless love ? Oh ! for a voice, thundering from out the sky, Conclusive truths of Death and Destiny ; Comfort to yield in such an hour, when Doubt Rankles within, and Sense, from things without, Denies an after-life ! Ah ! were it so, The sea — the sea — which laves the rocks below, Fathoms and fathoms deep ; that swelling tide My corse should bear, and thus, at once, decide My fate eternally ! Why pause I now ? Why stand perplexed upon the mountain-brow, When but one step — my horoscope were cast — Death's portal gained, and life and doubt were past ? I know not why I pause! My wayward will Relents not now, my flesh is ready still ; But I am backward drawn, by inward spell, Whose power I feel, obey, but cannot tell THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 13 Whether it sways from weak resolve of mine, Or be indeed the law and voice divine ! Enough — I am withheld ! — Now dare not I Cast life and soul upon a single die, Lest, failing there, no space be found for me Wherein I might repent, eternally. Ah Death ! stern Death ! such terror lights thine eye That man will shun thy gaze, thy presence fly ! 'Tis not thy pain, or fancied, or possessed, For Death, as opiate sure, doth offer rest. Tis not reluctant strife to part from all, Or quit each thing we now enjoyment call ; For there are those who pass their time below In gathering grief and drinking deep of woe. No joy have they, no pleasure here they give, Dejected souls, they suffer much, yet live ! Death's hand, in reach, to ease their woes and pain, Yet sought, unsent, they're truly termed insane ! When we have walked adown the steps of years, As we advance progressive grown in fears, It is the step last ventured then, in gloom, We reach, and feel ; nor know, if yet the tomb Hath power to hold our weight, or whether we Shall fall — and fall — deeper eternally ! It quells the bravest man who treads earth's brink, And cannot feel how far his soul shall sink ! 14 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. How dreadful this ! How awful then the view ! How big the danger seems ! How simple too ! — 'Tis but " uncertainty" ! — The torture's nought But unfelt depth, and unsupported thought ! Ah ! well our God, when he the mind did frame, Knew how to rule, and how its will to tame. " Let Death," God said, " remain a secret state, " Be thou, oh Tomb, awhile inviolate. " Embers and dust ! by man be ye surveyed ; " Be fleet thou soul ! through life research evade, " And tell no tale in death ! Let there appear " Reason for hope, and matter too for fear ; " Thus shall thy form, thus swollen, ' Uncertainty, 1 " Outweigh all woe, o'erbalance misery, " And man restrain, in station he must fill, " Till he hath wrought my purpose here, my Will f Oh ! I could look on Death with steadfast mind, Were Death made known, or were its pains defined ; And I could quit this life (which doth present, As life alone, small joy, and poor and short content) With much of thankfulness, and hymns of joy Should my weak voice and parting breath employ, Could I but now obtain, or feel, or see, One point of rest within eternity, Where sense and thought are lost ! I could indeed (If in the passage hence there were such need) THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 15 Deep tortures bear, without one sigh or moan, Invented there for my dismay alone, Did I a reasonable hope possess, Beyond the tomb, of spiritual consciousness ; Or could I now or fully hope, or see, My seeming soul, my own identity, Carried for ever on ; connected there With things I love, the faith which calms my care, And finds my comfort here. But then, to go To some dark spot I must not, cannot know. A cloudy hand, a veil of tenfold night Darkening each thought, and shutting then from sight The things that are, the things that once have been, All I now seek, or all I once have seen ; 'Tis gloom, 'tis gloom indeed ; Existence left ; Continuance of soul — that soul bereft Of attributes and powers ! — Oh ! what can be More strange, more dark than this anomaly ! It urges man to seek (and bliss it were to find) Malicious souls imprisond oft in wind. It drives the zealous worshippers of fire To kindle spheres when mortal flames expire. To cover now this vacancy in fate The soul of man is made to transmigrate And lodge in meaner forms, which shall protect His cherished soul from such forlorn neglect l 1 Lethe, a river of Hell, whose waters have the power to cause forgetfulness. 16 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. As we imagine not, yet soon may find, A deathless and enduring soul combined With dark oblivion ; the stagnant mind As dead as wave across whose face no wind Doth ever sweep, to lift, or purify Lethean mists, which there, continually, Do deepen and descend ! This total void Where Faith, and Hope, and Bliss are ail destroyed This severing blow, bestowed by Death's rude hand, Which man must feel, but fails to understand, Hath urged a fond, but false continuance, In other spheres, of all the joys of sense; It built Elysium l . A hidden fate, A total want of some more spiritual state, Hath caused Mankind, as samplars, to invent For human crime, eternal punishment ; Which souls must bear, and physically feel ; Tantalian thirst 2 ; the long-revolving wheel 3 ; The useless labours at the well 4 , decreed For female guilt, and crime of murderous deed ; The incessant toil, rolling the ponderous stone 5 , And all, in past mythology made known ; 1 The abode of the happy, the Paradise of the Heathen. 2 Tantalus doomed to everlasting thirst, and plunged chin-deep in a lake in Hell. 3 Ixion was fastened in Hell to a wheel perpetually turning round. 4 Danai'des doomed to draw water out of a deep well in a bucket full of holes. 5 Sisyphus, doomed to roll a huge stone up a mountain in Hell. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 17 Strange, wild absurdities. It makes e'en Hell, Despite its flames, a place endurable ; Because we may therein, at length, possess A spot to fill Eternal Nothingness ! Happy to pause; compared with Doubt — content ; A home attained ; a place of refuge lent ; Cessation found from fall or flight of years Through empty void, or through the wandering spheres ; Something defined to hold the Spirit's eye, To make a pause, subdue its constant cry — Of what is peace ? — Oh ! when shall I be blest ? — Where is my Home ? — and what can be my Rest ? Reader, or Friend. Before I now proceed Thy willing mind through Fancy's realm to lead, Bear with me for a while, whilst I explain The object sought, the good I would obtain ; And, in the wildest rhapsody that ever yet Tongue did proclaim, excitement did beget, Some straggling thought, some word, by God designed, May touch a chord, and fasten on thy mind ! I seek the Soul ! Yet know not if there be, In Metaphysic's lore, of best antiquity, Or bound in Science-book of modern date, (Where shine new lights, and Sages speculate,) 18 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. One single scroll, one line of argument, To which all bow, whereto we all assent, Conclusive of a Soul ! Whether it be A temporal state of short vitality Inhering dust awhile ; bestowing thence Its active powers, Matter to fill with Sense. Whether there was, or whether yet there be, Some valued line of sound Philosophy Which separates Man's Soul from life below, In beasts which move, in trees and plants which grow ; Which tells the how or whence derivable ; How much is lost, and what's survivable. When Man, with some capacity denied, Some duct destroyed where pulp is purified, Doth waste in pain, and thence at length expends Th' ephemeral strength whereon his life depends. Or if 'tis given, to some enlightened mind Which seeks these depths, the mystery to find, The chemistry to know, whence change is wrought, When matter-dense engenders subtle Thought ; If they have seen, and traced throughout the whole, The germ of Life, the all-constraining Soul ! Is there a Soul ? We know the word is used In common parlance phrase ; blasphemed, abused ; We are disposed, and verbally content, To hold the term, thereto to yield assent. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 19 The wretch profane, the sinner too, most vile, Will stake his Soul, yet cares not he the while If Soul he hath ; and wishes not to know What Death reveals, or where his Soul shall go ! " Awful," you say : awful, indeed, say we, And tremble too ! "Pis strange, wild mockery ! If he hath not a Soul, to us 'twould seem A foolish pledge, and Folly's worst extreme, To back his word or boisterous argument With wealth not his, which he cannot present : But, if that Soul, with all its interests, be, The such, I trust, it seems to you and me, Then stay his tongue, and say, for Mercy's sake, " What earthly good demands so deep a stake ?" Where lives the man who doth not thus inquire — " Have I a soul ?" Or feels not this desire, — To clear away the cerements, and see If Death retains some faint vitality, Or if 'tis cheerless clay. Where lives the Sage Can ope' Death's book, and read that mystic page ? We hear of none ! Nor yet do I presume The seal to break which binds the secret tomb ! Enough it is for me that God hath said, There shall arise, from out the mouldering dead, A somewhat so refined — it shall sustain Each agony intense, bear endless pain, 20 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Outlive Eternal wrath ! That there shall be An after-life, with full capacity ; And man, again, in spiritual life shall rise, A Guest of God, an inmate thence of Skies. Yet, knowing this ; feeling, as now I do, What God declares is wonderful, yet true ; There have been times when Thought and Sense would stray, Within strange wilds, o'er Fancy's realms away ; There have been times when deep perplexity, And doubts, and fears, of how such things could be, Would harass much, annoy my soul, till I Must have some sign, some sight to satisfy ! And was there sin in this ? Or was the mind Thus stirred with doubts, to hope, and seek, and find ? Made thus to love (because 'twas won with pain) The truth, which men more love when they attain By payment made in doubt ? Is Error made The streamlet-course whence Truth must be conveyed ? We often find it so. And such will be This theme of mine — this one Night's history. A record this of visionary nights, Which then were found, as rapid meteor lights, To spread before mine eye some substance new, Beauteous and fair, unstable thoughts, untrue. Their influence fear not thou. Dread not to read. I would invite, but would not thence mislead. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 21 With no light mind I now define, to sense, And paint, in form, Satanic influence ! 'Tis not without a meaning pure yell find Some seeming truths with Blasphemy combined. Though wild, and strange, my pen shall paint to you The subtle course Satan doth oft pursue : The stream of Thought insidiously he taints, And doth assail by blandishments and feints, And leading on " Fancies most laudable, 1 ' Till Genius yields a Chariot-road to Hell ! " Why then," ye may with j ustice ask, " should we " Error spread forth in full diversity ? " Why paint fallacious Images, to rise " Like Babel's tower, darkening, with Doubt, the skies ? " Why give, to Nothing's film, a form, which may " Envelope Thought and lead our Minds astray ? " Because — I would reply — vain hopes reproved, Fancies controlled, Errors and Faults removed, May fix the Truth more firm. Doubts may assail, And Mystery may, awhile, o'er Truth prevail ; Fleet thoughts will flow spontaneous on the Soul, Their source unknown, their power beyond controul To have these thoughts of Scepticism within, And battle thus, with Doubt, is not a Sin ! Small praise, I think, have they ; slight cause to boast. Whose minds, inert, but slumber here at most, 2% THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And never know a doubt. If such minds be, It doth evince a Spiritual apathy ! True Love, strong Fear, Anxiety intense, Will urge us on to seek for Evidence, As full, as undeniable, as free, As deep, as is Sin's awful penalty, Attached to Crime ; denounced on Sloth, and thence Entailed alike on Guilt and Negligence ! Others have wandered too, perhaps as wide, From paths of truth, and roamed from God beside. Some to deny, against all Sight and Sense, A Nature's God from Nature's evidence ! Some to despise that power which doth but wait To store our Minds, and Reason regulate ; And call our Faith but Folly's worst extreme, A dangerous Hope, a most destructive dream. How wide I wander'd then, in thought, doth show How far the Mind, if unrestrained, will go ; How needful 'tis that Man, in this, should be Restricted thus, and held by Deity. My wanderings, here confessed, may serve to teach To what confusion-wild our Minds would reach, Did God permit, that Man, by vagaries, Should snatch his Faith, or worship gain from skies. Many defer the thought, yet know, and feel, Eternal things are not a whit less real, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Because, as yet, no eye hath seen that state Whereon the wise now love to speculate. This after-life, to us indeed, would be Matter alone for Reason's scrutiny ; A training-ground, where Thought might exercise, Demolish Globes, and bid new spheres arise ; And break, and build ; destroy, and reinstate ; Light up new Suns ; false theories innate ; Did not the Monitor, within possessed, Tell us, with tongue that ne'er can be suppressed, We have an interest there. And that the Soul, Though here awhile subdued by Dust's controul, Is interwoven so with that Eternity, And held thereto by such affinity, As spiritual things to spiritual source must own, Who have their birth, and dwell in God alone. 'Tis this doth there a useful theme present, Or makes the question asked impertinent. If man doth not immortal Soul possess, The labour's vain, the search is profitless ; And better 'twere that passing things should find A power to hold and quite employ his mind. If Soul he hath, and if it should appear Its just controul is man's great business here ; Then deep, and urgent too, must motive be, Awful and plain is man's necessity Himself to draw, by every lawful mean, From words declared, from earthly objects seen, 24 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Data to crush, or else corroborate, Assumptions formed for Death's eternal state. Hath Man a Soul ? Shall it through death abide ? Becomes a point we should at once decide ; And this on principle ; or whence Man's hope ? Which knows no bounds— Eternal life its scope. Doth Soul exist ? Or doth it but appear A priest-craft bold to raise suspicious fear, And hold proud man its Slave ? Hath Man designed This Tyrant-thought to subjugate the mind. Such doubts are oft advanced — by wilful Men, Anxious to gain, amidst their brethren, A nattering pre-eminence for vigorous thought, Which they may prove, alas ! too dearly bought, When they shall find each soul they've led astray Asked at their hands upon the Judgement-day ! But where was Priest-craft's hold in early days ? The interest where, exciting man to raise A shadowy soul, defineless, made to be The spectre-form to haunt continually ? I do believe that men were then inclined, And men there are, who would rejoice to find, Or hold a power whereby they may disprove A Soul in Man, and thence all fear remove ; A Guest dislodge, whose voice doth now maintain A hold on minds no laws nor threats restrain. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 25 And that the Heathen Sage did teach, and feel, There was a Soul, a life of Woe or Weal, A somewhat indestructible, which we Still seek, unfound, but not as eagerly ; His horrid rites declare. Fierce rites, that shame The Christian's zeal, and make his worship tame ! The tortures view he freely then endured For wrathful Gods, whom Error's mists obscured ; And Thought, deceived, had given him to know Enraged by smiles, appeased by human woe ! In Heathen days the Soul was undefined ; Uncertain views, and doubts, hung o'er the mind ; The Soul did feel, but broke not through the gloom Which seemed, in death, to rest around the tomb ! Idols were made, were carved in stone, to be Invested then with God-like Majesty ; And prostrate hosts did bend before the feet Of hideous forms upon a blood-stained seat ; Whose weight, they thought ; whose wheels they hoped should press, Their tortured souls to instant happiness ! — And blood then flowed, and midst the yells they raised The soul took flight, and Jugernaut was praised ! — My God ! — How dark the human mind, thus shown, To think the Soul should thus approach Thy throne, Begrimmed with human gore ! Or to suppose Thine eye delights to dwell on mortal woes ! — 20 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Yet true it is, that men, in ignorance, And held from Truth's revealed evidence, Have ever sought to move and worship Thee By blood, and tears, and scenes of cruelty The most refined ! — Each savage passion reigns ; No gentle love the arm of power restrains ; Nature is lost ; its laws despised ; Their children's forms are freely sacrificed ; And they are torn ; are pierced with arrows through ; Bear all that flesh in ignorance can do ; Then die ; and dying thus, approach the throne Where sits— THE LORD— Omnipotent— alone ! Ah ! how unlike the hideous — idol-thing Their hands had formed for human worshipping ! This was not Nature's path. 'Twas not the line Where mind would run without some discipline. Some most mischievous fraud had influenced here, On Ignorance wrought, and magnified their fear ! They were as anxious then, and more intent, To make themselves the most proficient In horrid rites, most clearly traceable To false suggestive powers of He of Hell, As can the best, and most devoted be, To learn thy truths, pure Christianity ! Nature will be her own preservative, And doth implant such full desire to live, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 27 That where the man's not falsely led away By Satan's voice, or fascinating sway, (E'en like the charmed and fabled dove, when she, O'erwrought by fear, into Death's fangs doth flee) He will Destruction's grasp, with care, avoid, Nor cast off life, nor seek to be destroyed ! But I return, and would again possess The chain of thought from which I did digress. I've said the time was eve; the hour I love; And told how earth, and sea, and sky above Were peaceful and serene. I've shown how Sense Will often yield to Nature's influence ; And how the mind, if uncontrolled, will be Led out, and tuned to perfect harmony, With beauteous scenes around. Behold its force— The setting sun, its bright and daily course, Now hasted to complete. There seemed to be A deep, a well-inferr'd analogy Between that sun, in every varying stage, And man, in youth, in manhood's bloom, in age. His morning feebleness, his mid-day power, The darkness next, succeeding setting hour ; All types of man, hackney'd perhaps to you, But not less trite, less manifest, less true. His course complete, the sun sinks in the wave ! How like to man, who sinks into the grave ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. His light withdrawn, from this our hemisphere ; Withdrawn — not quenched — to shine again in sphere Where this world's gloom, man's hour of death, will be But twilight shades to light precursory ; The harbinger of life — a life new-born The stilly eve to Resurrection's morn ! Whilst thus I mused, the sun's retiring ray Had sunk beneath the wave, and soft the day Was rounding into night. Resplendent night, Which, veiling this, doth ope', to mortal sight, Innumerable worlds ! — Delighted Sense Bestowed upon these globes intelligence. And, as I gazed, with eager eye intent, On spheres so bright, so seeming permanent, Abstraction deep, from things which dwell below, Did then pervade my mind, whilst Thought did grow, And grow ethereal. — It seemed to claim A neutral spot, as doth the parting flame, Which hovers nigh where substance doth present Its one detaining power — its nourishment — Yet seems to long for liberty at hand, And pant for power to rise and to expand Into Infinitude. And God, by Grief, Had stricken me beyond the soft relief Which Faith could yield. Her voice was hushed ; Each atom of my brain, contused, and crushed, With sudden woe, and mental pain enlarged, Seemed not with thought or due reflection charged ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 29 But did a vagrant vacancy possess, As though my brain were charged with emptiness. Or, 'twas as though a rushing multitude Of giant-thoughts each other there pursued, Till I could plant my hold on none, But all was turmoil and confusion ! And yet, above it all, there did predominate A consciousness of somewhat lost of late ; Which seemed to float around me, in the sky, For ever lost, yet absolutely nigh. Anxious I gazed, intently listening ; Hopeful some voice-celestial would bring The comfort I desired ; — my Spirit heal With richest balm its treasures could reveal. And then as orb on orb, and star on star, In Heaven's pure blue embedded deep and far, As gems of glorious sheen, on breast of night, Came twinkling soft, then bursting full on sight ; Away — away — with eagle-wing unfurled, My Spirit flew, beyond this loathed world. Its vent'rous wing, by Fancy urged, soon won The foremost globe that circumscribes our sun ; Then onward sped, in full and swift career, Through Planet-belt and path of many a sphere. And far it flew, beyond our little ken, And gazed on stars unknown, unseen till then ; New worlds it saw, strange tongues o'erheard, And quickly glanced on galaxies that gird SO THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Systems and spheres in Ether-space outspun, Where Sin ne'er dwelt, and Death was not begun. With ardent thought, and urged by Fancy's view, Onward, and upward still, my spirit flew, Untimed by years, undistanced too by space, In this, her fleet and visionary race ; Yet seemed she then, though farther flying, nought More nigh to God, nor gained the Heaven she sought ; Found not, in Void, a resting-place for Soul ; Nor read more clear, upon Creation's scroll, The glittering bliss ; nor heard the darkening ban Which spoke the fate, the future joys of Man. Here Fancy paused awhile, and pondered ; But, buoyant still, with lusty wing outspread, Hung thoughtful there, o'erlooking systems pure, That it, e'en now, so quickly and so sure, Had passed. Its world, devoid of Matter-taint, Was dwindled then to star, beauteous and faint ; No stain bedimm'd, no spot obscured its sheen, As round it swung, of that Globe-nest the queen, In lustre eminent : outshining there Prodigious globes, more bulky far, less fair. No foul disfigurement, no human trace, Then marred its beauteous form, nor on its face Drew furrowed lines, that, as recording page, Betoken'd there each Nation's heritage. No voice of War, no deep lament of Woe, Could thence arise ; nor could my Spirit know THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 31 That Grief, and Death, in that bright spot could dwell, Did not Experience teach, and Memory tell That known, and seen, as she had seen, more near, That beauteous face, that lucid atmosphere, Was strewed with forms, the dying breast, the dead, And all its scenes with Sin impregnated. But now, each sound, and every trace of these, Shrank from the eye, lessen'd by soft degrees ; And Earth, that near was dense upon the sight, Emitted beams, and shone an orb of light ! Far off it lay, and seemed through space to glide With steady roll and planetary pride ; No travelled track, no beaten pathway nigh, Its union marked with that soft azure sky; But round about its orb, soft, clear, denned, A halo-bright, a beauteous belt entwined. And other Globes there were with circlets bright, Triple were some, and luminous, and light ; But when, or wherefore thus, these bands were given, Or why thus marked amidst the host of Heaven, Knew not my Soul. Nor shall man ever guess Till through the Grave, as portal dark, they press ; And Reason find, made pure, and perfected, When Light shall dawn, to wake the slumb'ring dead. And now, with soft, and Soul-inquiring song, My Spirit's voice ran mournfully along, And touched the chords of Heaven. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. When faint, in distant Space, As far as eye could reach, or mind could trace, Kindling, bright'ning, dilating as it neared, A gleamy spot, of doubtful form, appeared ! Rayless, and indistinct, and undefined, It stole at first, and chained my musing mind. Rapid, as meteor-flash, when clouds are riven, And lightning-gleams across the Heavens are driven, It onward rolled ! A form, at last, it won, More bright than blush of purest Evening's sun ? As then, from out its disk, waved far and wide, The beamy wing of some Arch-Angel's pride ! Awe-struck, and motionless with growing fear, My Spirit gazed ; no sheltering arm was near ! No spot, no safe retreat for backward flight ; No space to hide, no shroud in gloom of night ! The Comet's widest course beyond afar, It gleamed at first, as new-born glory-star ; But, ere my Spirit's thought, with speed outsent, Knowledge to gain of purpose, find intent, Its source could reach, the Vacancy he strode : No Spirit he that dwelt in blest abode ; No Seraph pure, but Demon, fierce and fell, Heaven's outcast Foe, the Prince, the Lord of Hell ' His towering form before my Spirit quailed ; Trembled, and feared, but worshipped not, nor hailed ; Sought not, nor shunned, the blightings of his brow ; Nor would it then with holy greeting bow ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. SS Godlike in shape, in shining vesture clad, In aspect stern, yet beautiful, and sad, And dignified he stood ! But as, with eye Of most acute and anxious scrutiny, My Spirit scanned each lineament, a scar, Furrowed, and deep, his spacious brow did mar. Its broad expanse pourtrayed a branded trail, Which told, of Heaven's deep-scorching-wrath, a tale ; Spake conflict held, in regions high and pure, And Rebel-pride, and sad discomfiture ; And glory lost when God's fierce lightnings fell, And hurled him, crushed, adown to Nether-Hell ! " Thou Child of Dust P 'Twas thus his speech began ; " Hail ye in Space, thou earth-despising man. " Thou Child of Dust ! What ? Fear'st not — Dost not bow ? " These realms of Light amidst, what seekest thou ? " The realms of Air are these, my right resigned, " And I 1 , their prince, answering thy asking mind, " Thy wishes known, though breathed not now, nor told, " Have hither sped, with thee awhile to hold " Communion deep ; and now explain to thee " Thy long-sought soul, Earth's painful mystery. 1 Satan, the prince of the power of the air. D 34 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Thy wish I heard as midst my peers I sate — " Their spirits awed, and ruled their stern debate ; " 'Twas scarcely formed, had not attained full birth, " Ere I, for thee, had circumvolved the Earth ; " Not Earth alone, but Earths, most numberless, " Which crowd around, on eye of thine to press " With dread astonishment ! Say, Mortal, now, " Once more I ask, what seek'st — what wouldest thou ? " Knowledge? you say, " and truth, and light more pure, " Than beams of Mind, past glimmerings obscure. " Go back to Earth awhile, I yonder see, " And there Death's hour await, when HE " Who framed thee first from Eden s valley-clod, " Warmed thee with life, and told thee ' HE was God ;' " Fooled thee with hopes, as yet unsatisfied ; " Planted desires, but born to be denied ; " Who gave thee thoughts, oft cherished here and prized, " But such as ne'er by Man are realized ; " With mother-dust again shall blend thy frame, " For dust art thou, as first from Dust you came. " Await this time ; thou can'st not now be wise ; " Enjoy thy life, nor Death as foe despise; " For then, in state corrupt of foul decay, " Shall God, at length, the wond'rous boon convey — " The power to know thyself ! Oh wondrous love ! " Emblem of He who rules in realms above ! " Methinks 'twere best to give that knowledge now, " But we are fools, and can but humbly bow ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 35 " Instruction comes as fate ! 'Tis God's decree, " And backed by power of his authority ! " Who dares resist ? The Lord 's Omnipotent ! " And man should rest as thou art now, content ; " For God is good ! Submission too is wise ; " And just is HE who this, thy hope, denies. " Death shall disclose, the Grave at length explain " The grief it holds, tortures which there remain. " 'Tis good to hide its woes ! Bless God for this — " Knowledge were wrath, and Ignorance is bliss. " Await," I say, " that hour ; or else, to me, " (Who pities much Man's sensibility, " And would, upon his anxious thought, bestow " The wisdom asked, his future state to know,) " Give now attentive ear ! Frown not, nor flee, " I would arouse thy slavish apathy, " Which makes thee dwell in ignorance, and pain, " Too wise to bless, too fearful to complain. " I'd show such power-tyrannical, that when " Fair contrast's made between the Fiends and Men, " There's happiness in Hell. Shrink you at this ? " Show me a joy, tell me of earthly bliss " Which is not made the sure but hidden blow " To fix upon thy soul a deeper woe " By felt comparison ? Affix thine eye " Upon each joy which issues now from tie m THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Of friendship's link, or love, by God designed " Thy hopes and fears on earthly things to bind ; " And tell me then, if power of feeling's given " To reach thy heart's best core, and then be riven, " By such rude shock, as in the parting pain " Forbids all hope that link to join again ? " Can such adaption made, such powers for bliss, " Conjoined to such bereaving act as this, " Be merciful or just ? Yet God, you say, " Blessing — may blast ! Giving — may take away ! " Adore him then ; I surely never meant " To shake thy love ; be duteously content; " For surely God is good. You say, you know, " That Man to Misery is born, and Woe ; " You Vengeance feel, and Pain, from God above, " Yet count it Joy, and bless this wondrous love, " Which manifests an all-protecting God ; " And kiss the hand, and bend beneath the rod ; — " You love his Word, and, uncomplaining, find " Furrows of Grief engraved upon the mind ; " Bless on, and bow ; I seek in Man no prize ; " Nor bid I thee such wondrous love despise ! " If woe and grief thy thankfulness inspire, " Drink deep and bless, in gratitude expire. " I hate the base and fawning sycophant " Whose breast with hope of liberty will pant ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 37 " Whose tongue, obsequious, tutored to lie, " Will shout the praise of Him it would defy, " Could Nature speak, or did it even dare " To breathe its woe, or whispering, vent despair. " Subjects I have, blessed with Angelic sense, " Who shook God's yoke, disclaimed allegiance, " Because they saw, and need I now explain, " That Grief was Grief, and Pain was surely Pain ; " Who dared to feel, and utter discontent ; " And grasped at things 'twere well he did prevent, " A pre-perceiving mind, and power to be " Like Gods indeed, Omnipotent, as HE. " As Gods they fought, obtained unbounded sight, " But sank beneath God's still-enforced might, " His power abused ! For His abuse, and hate " A power to have, and not communicate. " And why should God, to Adam's race, deny " Or bliss or power he could indeed supply " In measure infinite ? Or why create " The need of woe, or cause afflictive state ? " The hand which smites, the power which rends, you say, " The balm affords, and comforts too convey. " A duteous speech, devised for slavery, " And conned, and learned in simple faith by thee. " A duteous speech, but is it ever so ? " Doth not the grave conceal full many a woe 38 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " That never found, beneath the Hand-Divine, " One healing balm, one simple anodyne ? " All this is foolish faith. For fools ye be " To hug your woes, embrace your misery. " To writhe, yet bless ; endure, yet still rely ; " Be bruised, and crushed ; depend, and praise, and die ! " An after-life? you say, with seeming sense, " Shall yield to Faith the fullest recompence, " And payment make, more full and just than we, " Though urged to judge by partiality, " Could e'er assign. Ah ! false, but blissful view ! " And / could paint, and / could promise too ; " Could name far brighter things, could I deceive, " Or could I hope that man would now believe " The wild, the false, and vain non-entities " Which Faith upholds, but Reason's voice denies. " He gives thee Life ! He doth that boon convey ; " But what is Life, if Man must soon decay, " And be a loathsome mass of earth, so vile, " Affection cannot bear, e'en for a while, " Thy foul offensiveness ? And what can be " Thy daily boast, thine immortality, " When silent worms, with noiseless tooth, possess " That most unsavoury-pile-of-rottenness — " The body of a man ? Yet this, Man knows, "Is all thy God in Mercy's hour bestows. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " For this brief power, this heritage of days, " He asks thy love, demands thy fervent praise. " Shout ye, and sing ! and let your hymns outvie " The praise he claims from Seraphin on high. " Shout ye, and sing ! I bid ye not complain, " And trust, and die, and hope to live again ; " Walk blindly on, and every thought divest ; " Think not of Death, or all therein possessed ; " For God is good. Most merciful and wise. " 'Tis love that hides, 'tis mercy's hand denies " The truth, which told, would make thee fully see " That escheat vile, thine Immortality, " Now promised and believed. Bless on, but know " That earth alone maintains the power of woe ; " That if pure joy and unmixed good abound, " They're thine to make, and here on Earth are found. " Believe this truth, nor wait for future prize; " And thence forego, hereafter-hopes despise. " In them behold that great but false decoy " Which Faith believes, and Envy doth employ, " To plunder thee of bliss, make thee resign " All natural joys, which are, or should be thine ; " And what the boon for which they're cast away ? " To find ' Oblivion's realm' possess 6 Decay.' " Oh ! Man, you're much deceived. Ah ! 'tis a pain " To see thee thus each mortal woe sustain. 40 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " To know, and in that patient eye, to see " The restless nerve of deep anxiety, " Which ye would hide, but cannot quite suppress ; " Which ye nor cloak, nor candidly confess. " Ah ! 'tis a dark and pitiable state " To see thee thus the mockery of Fate ; " To see thee sit, abundant good around, " And placed in spheres where joy and mirth abound ; " To know your wants, observe your longing eye, " See thee abstain, or lustingly deny ; " Then to behold deep ' Enmity' prepare " The tempting bait, so wond'rous and so fair, " And place the prize beneath thy ravished sight, " To catch thy hand, or feeling mind invite, " And see thee yet refrain. For Joy athirst, " Ready to snatch, and quaff, if but ye durst. " Ready to rush and taste the nectar near, " But held therefrom by visionary fear, " Which doth enthral thy mind. — And what this tie ? " Ye're told, forsooth, that ye anon must die ! " And, after death, fancy doth now invent " For Earthly sin — Eternal punishment. " Suppose 'twere so. Would God be just, or wise, " To make the free, the natural exercise " Of active powers, within thy frame combined, " The ceaseless, working heart, the wakeful mind, " The powers he gave, the system's-life to be " A death-deserving lust — iniquity ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 41 " You say your God is just. — And were he so, " Could he inflict an undeserved woe ? " Would he invent a power, and bid it waste ? " Or furnish fruits, and bid thee shun, nor taste ? " Let Reason this deny. Cast not away " The good thus framed, Nature doth now convey. " Hast thou a power — thy native strength employ. " Hast thou desire — surrounding good enjoy. " Receive, dispense, partake, and thence impart ; " Unrein thy thoughts, indulge thy yearning heart ; " And know, for truth, that man alone thereby "Can please, or praise, or fully glorify " His Maker and his God. Short time hath Man, " Live whilst ye may, revel whilst roam ye can. " Divest your mind of death ; or in it see " The state it is, a deep non-entity ! " Let Life be Life, and given powers exert. " Let Death be Death, and slumber most inert. " Seek Brotherhood in Dust, find fellowship in Clay, " And rot ye there unconsciously as they. " Believe in this thy God ; nor knowledge spurn, " For Dust thou art, to Dust thou shalt return. " Thus spake thy God, in Oracle-divine, " It is no fraud, no sophistry of mine. " 'Tis truth most absolute. Did not the creed " In God have birth, and from his voice proceed ; " Surely the Tomb's a test, and holds an evidence " Open to mind, and brought before thy sense, 42 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " To show the fallacy of future state ; " And to convince, when life doth terminate, " It doth destroy, and ever dispossess " Thy soul of thought, or power, or consciousness ; " That it obliterates identity ; " Absolves all guilt, and sets man ever free " From punishment or woe. Away with Fear, " Behold your Joy, and seek your pleasures here. " Unfetter'd live ; nor dread to sin and burn ; " Renounce false hopes ; defy each mandate stern, " And make thyself a Heaven whilst thou dost live, " For Faith may paint, but God will never give " Celestial Joys beyond ; nor canst thou know " For temporal crime a never-ending woe. " I know thy ling'ring doubt ; — that smile I see, " Which scorns my theme, and tells, contemptuously, " Of lessons early learned ; too well impressed " To be erased from minds thus prepossessed. " Ye will not hear, nor pause, to think, but thence " More stubborn grow through entailed ignorance. " 'Tis right, you say, when Man, forewarned, doth sin " Against each law and monitor within, " That some controlling power should hold the scourge, " And God's commands, and Nature's tie should urge " The hand of crime to stay, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 'Twere true— most true, " If ye ' to willy if ye 6 volition' knew. " But know, that ye cannot a sin prevent. " Ye are but tools, the worthless instrument, " The deadly drug, the sword, the edged knife, " Each weapon found, and used in fearful strife, " And he who wields thine arm in murderous cause, " The life to take, and break God's written laws, " Is God himself! Aye, tremble not, nor flee, " Blanch not thy cheek, nor sink on bended knee, " But brave his wrath, and fearlessly confess — " The Great-law-giving-God doth there transgress ! " Then lays the onus on the instrument, " And tortures too, with condign punishment, " Obedient Man ; who moves as in a trance, " The passive slave of destined circumstance I " Hold fast this faith I fearlessly define, " And give me praise, this glorious creed is mine ! " Ah ! Man. Vain Man ! Blended and bound in thee " Are talents rare, and much absurdity. " Thou'rt framed for Bliss, yet all things here below " Or cause thee pain, or terminate in Woe. " Fancy, awhile, may glowing forms present ; " Yet thought doth fail, and is but impotent, " If measured now by need. Thou seem'st to me " A compound strange, a wild anomaly, ** THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Composed of half-formed-good, and half-ioved-crime, " Abortive made, and born before thy time ; " A fair design, wherein some beauties meet, " But feebly formed, abandoned incomplete. " 'Twas wantonness of will, unfeeling pride, " To frame thee thus, and cast thee thus aside. " And give thee too substantial powers, whereby " Thou "rt ever led thyself to multiply, " Mis-shapen Elf thou art. Oh ! what a state " For God to form, and Man perpetuate ! " A thing of strong desires, burning within, " But each desire a crime, each sating act a sin ! " Thou did'st not frame thyself, and now, I know, " Thou darest not say, ' Why hast thou framed me so ?' " The Man was clay — his Maker must design — " The fault was God's — the misery is thine ! " Behold the things around ! The very brute " Nor knows thy cares, nor is he destitute. " His means embrace his wants ; he is supplied ; " Whilst thou must seek, and toil, and be denied. " Man yearns for Truth, but knowledge never gains ; " He seeks for Joy, but Bliss he ne'er attains. " The brute, of thought and hope quite dispossessed, " Obtains his wants, therefore the brute is blessed ; u Whilst thou must kneel, and pray, and be denied, " Thy love abused, thy hopes unsatisfied. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 45 " Man calls himself the Sovereign-form of Earth ; " Yet e'en the reptile tribes possess, at birth, " Instinctive powers, for Nature to provide, " Which, unto Man, are lacking and denied, " Till words of tutelage, and oft-trained-Sense, " Begets the power by long experience. " Thus Man begins from vacuum of mind, " Step after step, by slow degrees, to find " How best "he may his native strength employ ; " What things reject, what seek, and what enjoy ; " Just lives, the rudiments of life to learn, " And frame some plans, by which he could discern " The government of God, or good conveyed " Within the world and things which he hath made ; " Then dies : — And in that dark and dismal hour " Lays down his consciousness, and every power, " Begot and learned with much of pain and strife, " The long-sought fruits of man's laborious life. " Then finds himself of talents dispossessed " When he had learned to know and use them best. " And is there goodness here? Are these things wise? " Who gave the hope ? And who withholds the prize ? " Are these two powers for Matter's— mass and Sense, " Creative both, and both at variance ? " The one, in works of wisdom first employed, " To frame such bliss, as were it once enjoyed, " Ye had been God's indeed ; the other, nigh, " To frame mankind so most defectivelv, 46 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " That ye can ne'er in bliss participate, " Though such be nigh, and most appropriate. " Methinks 'twere wise {if God such good 'presents) " He should therefore provide recipients, " Or else the good is worthless and misplaced ; " A boon desired, a fruit ye fain would taste, " Withering unplucked ; and perishing full nigh, " To torture hope, or blast thy longing eye. " But God is good ! Rejoice in thy desire ! " Hunger — and thirst — and famish — and expire ! " Bless God for good placed temptingly in sight, " And bless him too for craving appetite, " But think not ye to eat ! Man ate, and fell ; " That mighty sin prepared the pit of Hell ! " At least 'tis thus the specious fable goes " Which seems to justify the entailed woes, " Since natural to man. Not so, say I ; " Eat — drink — enjoy — partake, or else defy. " And let not this, a phantom of the brain, " Benumb thy powers, or active thoughts restrain, " Or ye are dead before you are summoned hence ; " Dead in your powers, inanimate in sense ; " And as no life there is beyond the tomb, " Ye're useless formed, and bear ye, from the womb, " Amidst your toil, and during daily strife, " A sense— denied, a vegetable life ! " And I could tell thee more. I could extend " Affirmative, and proof, and statements without end, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 47 " But thou art thankless grown ; I thought thee wise " When thou would'st seek thy life-time's mysteries. " I heard thee frame for knowledge-true desire ; " Uncalled I came, unbidden here retire. " If I have read to thee the Book of Fate, " Thence learn my love the most compassionate ; " And know me then, though fraud may be assigned, " To be thy friend ; I pity much mankind, " And would unbind their chains. I've told thee nought " Thou hast not felt, and oft indulged in thought. " No thought can rise, no hope thy mind engage, " But hath some source, and claims some parentage ; " What good, instructive spirit then was nigh ? " Or was it Gabriel's self? or was it I ? " Or HE — your bounteous God ?— Would he thus deign " His ways to teach ; motives would HE explain ? " He smites indeed, and he will oft reprove, " But doth he thus each mystery remove, " And make thy path more clear ? I tell thee nay ; " Behold the source ! — for mine hath been the sway ! " I've sought, and urged, and oft have goaded thee, " Along the line of years, from infancy, " Because I saw, and read within thine eye, " If once convinced, thou'dst curse thy God, and die ! " I saw in thee no mixed or middle state, " But love supreme, or deep and dreadless hate, "As thou wert drawn, or as thy waiting sense, " Beheld in God ' Unchanged Benevolence.' 48 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Now look around. Thy griefs and pains observe. " Do they claim thanks, or gratitude deserve ? " Behold your hopes — all blasted they 'ere blown ! " Your labours see — all perished or unknown ! " Where can'st thou now thy former comforts find ? " All torn away, for call them not resigned ; " Thy tongue so mute, thy patient-seeming smile, " Deceived thyself, but could not me beguile. " I know thee well. 'Twas hardihood, so deep, " Crush me ! you cried, thou can'st not make me weep ! " And then thy prayers, and thy false praises too, " Poured forth with smiles, e'en in the very view " Of coming ills, which thou did'st yet abide " With Faith, so called, but I should name it pride — " Which would not bow to man, nor would confess " Thy stifled woe, nor tell thy mind's distress ; " But, traced to source-divine, could bend to say, " They're Thine to give, they're Thine to take away ! " That specious Faith, which, with its placid eye, " Could onward look, with fixed resolve, and cry, " (As once again dark Fate thy cup did fill,) " I'll drink it, Lord, if yet it be thy Will ! " Ah ! what were these ? In them I fully see " The borrowed mask, the flimsy mockery ; " Thou can'st not love, thou art not now content, " To kiss the hand which brings such chastisement. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 49 " Nor can'st thou say, when smitten from above, " Thy knee, submissive bent, is bent in love. " Is not such deed an act of boasting sense " Which crouches thus beneath Omnipotence ? " And art thou not the pliant reed which bends " And bows, and yields beneath the blast that rends " The things of stubborn growth ? 'Tis well — 'tis wise ; " Submit, and bow, till He doth bid thee rise. " That prostrate form, that low and bended knee, " Doth suit thee well, and much becometh thee. " Oh ! homage pur& ! I would not dispossess " Thy God of slaves, nor Man of passiveness. " Nor would I now of unction cozen thee, " Nor tasteless make the wily flattery " Which, in Man's form, or even in his mind, " Leads ye the likeness-mark of God 1 to find. " Claim ye this prize. — Explain it ye who can. — u I am not God — nor would I be a man ! " In those six days, of labour strange, when ye " Were first annealed to hold earth's regency, " I hovered nigh, my one intent to find — " The powers on Man bestowed, his given-depth of mind. " And, oh ! what specious promises were made " If laws were loved, and mandates strange obeyed ; 1 Let us make man in our own image. E 50 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " The which, to me, so frivolous appeared \ " They powerless proved, and could not be revered. " A pretext then was framed to justify " The measure strange, that human souls must die ; " Griefs were denounced, deep woes were then assigned, " And death stalked forth to subjugate mankind. " Death reigned supreme ! Whether for Good or 111, " Ask not of me, 'twas His, your Maker's will ! " Your Maker called, but your Destroyer say ; " The power he gave, and yet, to this, thy day, " Pity nor love Death's arm hath ne'er restrained, " But well hath he accorded right maintained. " Mortals are slaves ! Death holds the right to be " The curse of Man, and claims earth's sovereignty. " In Man's young days, in your world's infant-tide, " People were thin, and few, and scattered wide. " Death's arm moved slowly then o'er vacant earth, " His harvest-rich was less than scanty dearth. " Mankind despised him then, as feeble foe, 66 Whom strength might foil, or numbers overthrow ; " They lived, they multiplied, each daily birth " With thousand souls replenished then the earth. " If haply one, by strength or wit alert, " His power had braved, unstricken or unhurt ; " Or through the press, unnoticed or unseen, " Had passed him by, such oversight had been 1 But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat ; for in the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 51 " A victory gained, which Time or deeper skill " Might more mature, and chance at length fulfil. " Whilst Man, from Death, the sceptre soon should wrest, " And henceforth live eternally and blessed. " But, ye silly worms, ye most confiding fools, " Ye brutes in comprehensive powers, ye tools " Of powers insatiate ! Ye did not know " Ye were Death's slaves, your earth his throne below ! " Passed centuries tell his early regal hour, " Millions have cursed, and some have blessed his power ; " But curse they loud, or bless they, each and all, " Alike they die, alike they're doomed to fall ; " As subject free, or most reluctant slave, " His power confess, and perish in the grave. " 'Tis thus, in wasteful wantonness, that God " Creates a world, and thus, to valley-clod, " Gives life and misery ! — Thus flatters Man, " (Whose vapoury life scarce reaches now a span,) " To live, desire, exult, and multiply, " Then lay him down in bitterness to die. " With many a wish instilled, he bids them rise " Towards a home long-promised in the skies ; " And as upon Hope's pinnacle they stand, " Their frame he grasps within Destruction's hand ; " Th' essential soul doth thence unmoved express, " As liquid ye from out the pulp would press ; 52 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Then hurls the worthless mass, the impoverished clay, " Far out, into ' deep emptiness ■,' away ! " Into a void, soul-peopled unto thee, " But c emptiness-confirmed'' — Eternity ! !" And Satan paused ! But, ere vibration's chord To pulsate ceased, moved thus by voice abhorr'd ; A chorus full seemed quickly then to rise From spirits false, peopling the stars and skies. Above, beneath, around, far-off, and near, Distant in space, and nigh my spirit's ear ; Each atom's-breast found voice, deep vacancy found tongue, As thus, in measured unison, they sung ; With evidence unsought, fierce hosts of Hell, Confirming words which then from Satan fell ; Contemptuous words, defaming Deity, And fixing hate, and rage, and cruelty, On every work of God ! Making this life An useless toil, an unproductive strife ; Showing a God capricious and perverse ; And making Man the mark of many a curse ! " Aye, thus 'twill be until for sickle-thrust " Your earth is ripe, and till oblivion's dust " Bestrews the dark, obscures the fading page " Of your fleet day, and Man's inglorious age. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 53 " Till Heaven hath told her number out of years, " And Fate hath summed the reckoning due of spheres ; " Till loudest winds have breathed their parting sigh, " And their puffed cheeks have outblown their supply " Of vapoury rage upon the fainting lea, " And urged the leap of Time's last bounding sea ! " Until yon Sun, which beams and shineth now, " Hath dashed, in gloom, the chaplet from his brow, " And latest beam hath glanced on earth, his child, " Whose youth he fed, upon whose age he smiled ! " Until e farewell' the parting Moon hath told " To all those spheres, companions claimed of old ; " And shining stars wept down, as floods of tears, " At fading rays, of those, her sister- spheres, " Throughout time loved, with Seraph-love alone, " And nightly decked with her own silvery zone. " Till Heaven s last fires — the lightning's dying ray, " Shall far outbeam the lustre bright of day, " And scorch with heat, no ocean-fount can tame, " Your Earth's dry field to full and fiercest flame ! '" Till thunders deep shall their dread lungs inflate " To bellow forth the last roar of their hate ; " And HE who earth bestrides, and air, and sea, " Whose brow reflects a known divinity ; 54 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " His hand shall lift, towards all Nature's head, " And swear fi by Him' who farthest space outspread ; " Who gave each globe first impetus to run, " In Heaven's blue vault first magnetized the sun ; " And through its pores, ignitable with lightness, " Did deeply dash a beam of his own brightness ! " By him, who bade the mountain swell on high, " The sea to roll and mingle spray with sky ; " Who lightning lent its bright and rapid wing ; " To thunders gave deep voice of threatening ! " Till he, the Angel bright, from Courts of God, " Shall spread the gates of vacancy abroad, " And then, with voice of seven-fold thunder's power, " To Man proclaim Eternity's first hour ; " Shall swear that Time its last wide round hath roll'd ; " And shall, as scroll, these azure Heavens upfold ; " And as a bark first cleaves the liquid sea, " Your earth shall launch into — Eternity ! !" The chorus ceased ; — The Demon darkly frowned ; — His arm he waved exultingly around ; — Contemptuous glanced his eye ; — his bearing proud ; As thus, from nearest globe, an echo loud THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 55 The closing couplet caught of that false strain, And passed it on, to swell and sink again. From globe to globe it rolled ; from link to link ; Each voice less long, less loud, and less distinct ; Dying in space, as billow doth of sea, Until, the last deep word — 'Eternity' — From globes remote did seem but faintly sighed, Vibration ceased — the song — the chorus died ! END OF THE FIRST BOOK- THE PSYCHOLOGIST, BOOK II. Jftttoocatton* Dreams ! — What are ye ? Spirit — or Mind — or Soul, That ye can roam without this Frame's controul ? Rambling — straying — over kingdoms sweeping — Whilst we are dead, or seem so, death-like sleeping ? Dreams ! — Whence come ye ? Or whither do ye spring, When ye, to eye of sleep, are visioning ? Wild thoughts are ye, which in my mind were fleeting ? Or Spirits free, with my strayed-Spirit meeting ? Dreams ! — What tell ye ? What speak ye to the Heart ? Or do ye truth, or fiction's tale impart ? Are visions drawn for sober Mind's believing ? Or pictures false our thoughtless souls deceiving ? 58 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Dreams ! — How speak ye ? And how are ye impressed ? What waking sense, what feeling is addressed ? When sleep with gay thoughts ye are soothing — cheering- And 'neath your thunders-deep we're writhing — fearing ? Ye Dreams of soft and soothing influence I Are ye then sent as cheering evidence That o'er our heads a watchful Angel's bending Our Souls from ill, our frames from Death defending ! Dreams ! — Why speak ye ? Whither would ye lead ? Can ye tell ought for future days decreed ? Do ye converse in slumbers to amuse me ? Can ye convince with Conscience to accuse me ? Ye Dreams, which tell of terror, speak of death ; Deep pangs of heart, fierce struggles to the breath ; Are ye of Woe a foretaste then invented, When Souls are lost, and Conscience is tormented ? Dreams ! — Ye are wondrous ! Undefinable ! Your birth, your use are unassignable ! Something like life on slumber's-eye expanding ; And Spirit's aid to phantasma commanding ! Dreams ! all unreal ; too bright are some to last ; The lover's hope, the fond bereaved 's past ; Sweeter than life, with pleasure overpowering ! Deeper than woe, the present grief devouring ! INVOCATION. 59 Sleep ! the Mind's rest ! What makes it rest to thee, When thou art life and full activity ? Thou'rt resting best when Fancy floats about thee ! No rest thou need'st, no rest there is without thee ! Sleep ! — What givest thou ? Where holdest thou thy balm ? Grief's opiate what ? And what the Spirit's calm ? Flinty the down, when care the couch infesteth ; Downy the flint, when sleep on eye-lid resteth ! Sleep, thou restorer ! Friend of the Forlorn ! Healer of minds Affliction's — rod hath torn ! The hand art thou, of comfort, whence we borrow, Rest when o'er- wrought ; relief-time in our sorrow ! Sleep — Visions — Dreams ! Ye Sisters soft of rest ! Balm to the Mind, refreshment to our breast ! Yield ye that boon where most it is demanded ? Are ye implored, or can ye be commanded ? Sleep — Visions — Dreams ! So awful or so sweet, In ye a mine of mysteries do meet ! Art hath not learned, Man's wisdom hath not found ye ! Mind breaks not through the shadows that surround ye I Sleep — Visions — Dreams ! Some ray extend to me ; Painted with Truth, touched with sublimity ; Peopling the dark, the gloom with life displacing, Building in dreams, unfounded schemes effacing ! 60 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Sleep — Visions — Dreams ! Give power to see and hear Words in Time's womb, events that shall appear ; Conscience address, and whilst the heart is feeling, Give ye reproof, instruction be ye sealing ! Sleep — Visions — Dreams ! Seasons of daily rest ; Thus be ye spent, be thus your visits blest ! Till I prepare, by sin and guilt forsaking, For Sleep of Death, and for ' Eternal waking.' Why speak of Dreams ? Why waste the precious time On wandering thoughts, or grovelling, or sublime, Which come, and go, in questionable shape, So vaguely speak, perplex, and then escape ? Who tells me now, though fanciful I seem, That I but rave, or, as in phrenzy, dream ? What — though mine eye was closed — must it yet be All dark within, and all obscurity ? What — though mine ear was dull, heavy, and bound To earthly speech, and mortal voice and sound, Could it not hear the still small voice within, Telling of guilt and many a doubt and sin Which I, in former life, in days of youthful pride, Had first approved, or suffered to abide, With passive sloth, as confidential guest, Within my heart, and harboured in my breast ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 61 It matters not whether the frame possess Its waking powers, or sleep's unconsciousness ; Whether the demon shape, or Tempter's word, Was seen by me, by fleshly organ heard ; For Satan's form, and words, and echoes wide, Were but my thoughts and doubts personified. I left the Tempter then, that Evil One, In all the pride of fancied conquest won ; His speech yet fills mine ear, as it was meant To fill my heart with rage, and discontent ! As thus, with false, but rapid eloquence ; With fraudulent design, but fair pretence, And with the song, the minstrelsy of Hell, The foe of Heaven, and Man, and God, did tell A worthless life bestowed. — With libellous rage He did misprint Creation's-title-page. He promised Man a brighter mental light With it, of future things, a full insight ; Witholding hope, gainsaying future bliss, He gave despair in all its bitterness, Showed lurking Death contained in every bower, Told plagues concealed, poisons in every flower ; He masked the Truth, and fraudfully entwined A rayless gloom upon my Spirit's mind. Of worlds decayed, he told ; of stars -out-burned ; Of nations lost, dominions o'erturned. He told of Man, at first created free, Now wrapt in Death and foul putridity : 62 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Of life subdued, the tongue of friendship hushed, Of love-ties torn, and heart's- affections crushed ; Of noble minds and ardent spirits gone, And lost in realms of dark oblivion ! Of budding flowers, he told, wither'd and past, And strewed, sere-leaves, by Death's untimely blast, Which made their lives and loves, a fabled jest, And quenched their hopes of everlasting rest ! He told how Time, and Death, and deep distress Should make this world, though thronged, a wilderness Where nought but woe should reign ; and did refer To Man's wide grave, and Nature's sepulchre ; But spake not peace, nor blissful prospect gave, Nor stilled Death's fears, not lit its gloomy wave ; Nor beacon held to guide the wanderer o'er, Nor pointed he to Heaven's Eternal shore ! Peace, Tempter, peace ! Peace all ye host unseen ! Peace ye who dare yourselves to thrust between My Spirit's eye and God ! And would ye separate A soul from Him who did that soul create ? The Soul I seek, would learn its destiny, Seek it in Nature's page, but ask not thee ! Cannot my thought, cannot my feeble eye, E'er roam on earth, or travel on through sky ; Cannot my Mind attempt each truth to know, But thou shalt strive the seed of hate to sow ? Knowledge I seek ; but shalt thou therefore press My wavering Soul with thoughts of Doubtfulness ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Shall reasoning raise, or shall research imply, Injurious thoughts disclaiming Deity ? Satan, away ! Nature, and nought beside, I now would seek to be my Spirit's guide ! How full her stores of ample matter, whence Our minds may draw the wanted evidence ! Surely a doctrine full we may deduce From data there, so ample, so profuse, That Man may run, and fleetly running, read, God's laws enfixed, Eternal things decreed ; On these, methinks, the ' foot of Thought' should rise, And trace the Soul beyond the farthest skies. Now Nature hold thy place, acquit thee well, Whilst I, from things which in thy bosom dwell, The truth extract. With every proof replete, The standard thou by which we mortals mete, How much is dead, how much is lifers controul ; How much survives, and what may be ' the SouV Inward I look. My troubled Soul reply. Shall each fond thought, each mental energy, With this my frame expire ? All I possess, Of knowledge gained, sink in forgetfulness ? Shall they then waste, or be absorbed away, Mouldering with dust, and perishing with clay ? Art thou a gift, justly dispensed and free ? Or art thou this — the veriest mockery ? 64 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. An ignis-fatuus-flame, a vapoury thing, Which tempts, but doth elude our reasoning ? A loan, indefinite, unsought by me ; Withdrawn ill-timed ; recalled capriciously ? Amidst the mass, which Mind doth generate ; Those < roots of Thought,' dost thou now vegetate, As plant zoophistic ; nourished there, and fed By tepid blood-drops, softly filtered, And sent, by tortuous lines, and sinuous ways, Through matter's pores, and through cerebral maze ? And, when thy root, by many a storm is worn, Shalt thou, from life's bleak rock, be rudely torn ; And shall Death's wave strew thee, as weed, upon That gloomy shore — Man's dark oblivion ? Say ! Dost thou lurk within the secret cell Of this my throbbing heart ? Dost thou there dwell, Making the seat of life thy throne, and thence, Throughout the branching veins, dost thou dispense Thy mandate-words, thy will ? Dost thou present, Or dost thou ask internal nourishment ? Art thou the breath f — Suspend its flow — thou'rt sped ! The blood ? — Withdraw it hence — our life is fled ! Each seems a life, yet neither can be thee, Or where, my Soul, that immortality For which thou yearnest oft ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 65 If Thought, why then At birth so feebly traced, so scarcely felt in Men ? Or if, improved by time, the Spirit be, Wrought out, and perfect made progressively ; Controllable, subduable by Man, How short this life, though held to lengthened span, For science so obscure ; which doth include Interest of deep and awful magnitude ! And, if the Soul but vital be, as breath ; Why trembling made ' accountable in Death ? Shall I, with dark Arabia's sons, suppose That in the breast of all mankind there flows One common Soul ; distributed midst Men, And subdivided oft, and oft again ? Or, with the red Egyptian sage, now think That many souls, confessing common link, Pervade the breast of one ? Each Thought, one Soul ; Each passion-fierce, one Deity's controul ? Is Death, Annihilation's blow ? A deep, A dark, a dreamless state — Eternal sleep ? Or shall the careless Soul, devoid of fear, Which wastes probation's day, and slumbers here, But sink in ' lap of Death,' then wake to see That Heaven 's no dream, and Hell reality ? F 66 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And what is Heaven ? And can I hence descry, The land above, the realms beyond the sky ? Can Thought now penetrate those fields-afar, The ; Heaven of Heavens,' unsullied by a star ? But Heaven, alas ! is placed so far away ; And I am held, my flight restrained by clay ; I can but ask, and yet for knowledge cry, To rolling stars, and comets as they fly ; Oh ! whither — whither is thy way ? Or where Thy path, thou fleet, thou glorious messenger ? Is it amidst those spots, far-off, of light, Which faintly beam, and tempt my aching sight ; And seem so far to spread, so high to rise, They must o'erlook outworks of other skies ; And glimpse that land, if land indeed there be, Where we have mapped a wide Eternity ? Are they some favoured worlds, selected few, To whom 'tis given to take a distant view Of endless realms of Joy ? — Knowledge forbidden To mortals' mind, land from his eye-balls hidden ! And thou, bright band, zoneing Immensity ; Effulgent path ; bespangled density ! Ye stars ; as ocean-sands for multitude, Do ye enclose our Heaven ? And are ye strewed So thickly round these denser balls, that we Must first attain a spirit's subtlety, Ere we can pierce your web ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 67 Dispel my doubt ; Though Earth within, is't Heaven, all Heaven without ? Here nestle worlds, here beauteous globes are strewed, Is all without one vast Infinitude ? How lovely are ye untold stars ; all ye That light Heaven's dome, and dwell with Deity ! Lovely, though still ; like Beauty's breast in sleep, Around whose form admiring Angels keep Their vigils pure ! Within thy hush, soft night, How oft have I, with rapture and delight, Your twinkling faces sought, and gazed awhile, The sleepless hours of midnight to beguile ; Till I could hope, and almost could believe My heart a ray of purity received From such communion ! Fve sought to read Creation's lines, and that mysterious creed Which on your leaves, as Reason's evidence, Is writ on high, and read by opening sense, " Proclaiming there, for ever as they shine, " Glorious is God ! — Our Maker is divine I'." Then hath my Thought, with race untaint with vice, Peopled your globes, and built a paradise Within the heart of every shining star, Where we, though now from happiness afar, By soft approach, at length absorbed may be, And fitting made for blessed Eternity. 68 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And then, as flitting whispers faintly grew, And tear-like fell the softest midnight dew, That whisper soft — was it your sympathy ?— And fell those tears for my Soul's misery — My Woe ? Ye smile — On me ye beam with love— My hope is raised — my eager thought above All utterance ! Now — now — I fancy ye Some kindred forms, once earth, now heavenly— Whose honoured lot it is to hover nigh Our sin-sunk world, there watch th' expiring eye ; And as Man's breast by woe and grief is riven, Receive the Soul, and marshal it to Heaven ! Ye stars, bright stars, which shed your influence wide, At mortal births reputed to preside ; Reach ye, rule ye, the thoughts or deeds below ? Impart ye love, or mingle ye with woe ? Wide is your path — afar your fixed way — Can ye to earth your 6 influence' convey ? Do ye affix each good or evil hour ; Give weakness strength, or paralize our power ? What hath your mass by its remoteness gained ? What branch of God's omnipotence obtained ; That ye shall urge, or ye shall fetter me, The fated slave of ' astral destiny V Who rules my fate in yonder firmament ? Who smites unseen ? Or who can Death prevent ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 69 • Who leads my thoughts ? Or who directs my way ? (Thou'rt weak, my star, and I am wont to stray !) Gird thou my loins, that I may strength possess ; And thou, my star, increase thy watchfulness, Lest I, subdued, from powerful foe, should flee, Or sink beneath the wily treachery Of him, the enemy of souls, intent On deeds of woe 'twere mercy to prevent ! Be swift to aid ! By portents answer me ! Or else belie ' by-gone astrology. Which did, in foretime's superstitious age, Befool mankind with cabalistic page, And figures cast in vain ! No movement's made; No warning voice, no latent strength's conveyed ; Stars — worlds — and suns — ye cannot fate controul, Ye're far outshone, outvalued by a Soul ! Ye stars, bright stars ! — Ye much perplex mine eye So pure, so soft, sparkling ye deck the sky ; Ye seem, ah ! no, it must not, cannot be, Almost a Heaven, almost a home for me ! Back then, ye stars ! (I speak in accents fond,) Retire, ye spheres, that I may look beyond ! Expand, ye Heavens ! Unfold, ye azure skies ! Your curtain draw, celestial mysteries ! Fall back, ye intervening worlds, till through Your ring-like orbits bright I catch one view, 70 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. One transcient glimpse of that long promised goal Whereto my bounding Thought and anxious Soul Do seem upon the wing ! Give me, ere yet My day is past, and ere life's sun is set, My home to glimpse, my destination see, Or Heaven is dark, and doth afford to me Nothing but doubt, perplexity, and pain ; Nothing to love, to seek, or to obtain ! Ye midnight stars, which make my spirit stray ! Ye lofty stars, which drew the soul away Of Israel's kingly bard, to thence possess Such true esteem of human nothingness ; That he, humbled indeed, but still elate, Broke forth in strains which shall perpetuate His pious love, and well-instructed sense Of Man's, and Earth's pure insignificance ; Praising his God, that HE should condescend To hear Man's cry, or to his wants attend, Whilst worlds, in myriads, more pure and fair, Bespoke his love, required his constant care ! What saw the Bard ? What surmised property, Beyond your beauteous forms, or brilliancy, Did then awake the strain ? Did Thought and Sense Furnish his mind with fullest evidence That ye were peopled worlds, with Souls supplied, And tongues, and creatures too, diversified ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 71 But universal they in their intent, All to unfold, and all at length present, The Glory of our God ? And could he see The vast amount of Heavens full treasury Of worlds and souls (If Souls indeed abound, And such interminable things be found In God's economy) ? Methinks 'tis well That human souls are made ethereal ; Or such a birth as teams from globes below Would cause the Heavens at length to overflow ; And Souls, home-called, must hustle through the sky To reach God's throne, or stand beneath his eye. Methinks 'tis wondrous wise to free the Soul From this its flesh, and from the frame's controul, Or else, in eddies formed by rushing tide, Reluctant Souls may linger oft, or hide ; Forced to appear ; made, murmuring, to obey ; Rolling to add and multiply the way ; Urged — whilst some haste; lagging — whilst some would flee; Anxious to wear into Eternity ; And steal an atom thus from grief away, By speed withheld, postponement, and delay, Most ineffectual ! Ye Hosts of Heaven ! Were form, substantial form, to Spirits given ; Or were they visible to mortal sight (Floating o'er forms, as doth phosphoric light n THE PSYCHOLOGIST. O'er substances impure ; extracted thence By lunar beams, electric influence), From each bright star, what highroads should we see, Of streaming light, and vapoury brilliancy; Showing the < flight of Souls' unto the sense ; Marking the transit-path of Spirit hence ; And, with effulgent light, tracing the line From every globe unto their home-divine ! Oh ! All ye stars ! — What objects would ye be, Streaming with rays of immortality ! And how would such bright evidence explain The knowledge asked and sought of ye in vain, Of — "Are there Souls — and how are they made known ? Of " What is Heaven — where situate God's throne?" Ye morning stars, which sang harmoniously, Have ye been taught to hymn this mystery ? Or thou, soft, silent moon ; whose noiseless tread So oft invites, and leads from midnight bed, With calls to contemplate. Hast thou not heard, When all is hushed — and not a vapour stirred ; When hurricanes have crept into their cave, And lulling winds are lapped upon the wave ; When o'er wide-Earth no motion is awake, And ocean sinks, as though it feared to break The slumbers of the breeze, which on its breast, As fretful child, had sobbed itself to rest ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 73 Hast thou not then, with deep attention, heard The echoed voice, the whispers of God's word ? 'Tis at this hour that we award to thee Attraction's most combined intensity ; And wonder not, as thou dost lamp the skies, That untaught minds thine orb should idolize ; For bright thou art, and pure ! We wonder if thine eye Can this lost world, and our lost souls descry ; And if indeed thou art the ' soul's-abode' Of friends withdrawn ; one stage upon the road Which doth conduct to realms where nought is found Wherein the taints, or spots of sin abound ; A holy clime ; to be at length attained, By travelling through each orb ; in each detained Till we one crust-like coat of sin have shed, Which on our hearts' best core had hardened ; Reaching that long-sought land progressively (If we progression make in purity), But, gathering sin, as deeper crust, around, Must then recede, where dark globes still abound, The globes reserved for flame ! Cast back awhile ; Removed once more from God's approving smile ; And if, for sin, infliction be not made, To find, at least, our happiness delayed ! Beatitude, attained progressively ! Tuitive faith ; and gradual purity ! 74 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Migrative Souls ! running the line Of classed globes for virtuous discipline ! Unfounded schemes, and idle thoughts, like these, Fancy employ ; imagination please ; And reckless men, who farthest walk from God, Assent thereto, and give approval's nod, But thou dost know ; for thou ("'tis said) the first step art Where spirits now, half purified, depart ; And thy meek voice may surely tell The state of Souls which there abound and dwell ; Hast thou no message-kind from God to me ? No tidings-sure of Soul's eternity ? But ye are matter all ! Lifeless and dense ! Ye do not hold, nor can ye give, an evidence Of Spirit ne'er contained ! Most rash it were, In search of Soul, to substance to refer ; Or seek the Soul from forms, or analize All matter brought from earth, or air, or skies ; Or view deposits made, with eye intent, Essence the Soul is not, nor sediment. Yet, many say, that hovering all around, The Spirits-freed, in ether-pure abound. Angels of good ; their office ministrant, To kindle love, and holy thoughts implant ! Mayhap, amidst those Spirits nigh, there's one Outmarked, by love, for my communion ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 75 Some former friend, who, though withdrawn, yet tries, By Nature's voice — memory which never dies — By whisperings of former love, and thence By heavenly hopes, and spiritual influence, To lead me from this world. And I would joy In such research my reason to employ. There must be Souls ! — If they, as spirits, are, Yet doomed t' appear before the Judgement bar, There must, e'en now, be intermediate state, Where they, in fear, or consciousness, await The Resurrection-trump ! It cannot be That Spirits rest enchained in lethargy ! Nor roam they now at will ! Indulgence 'twere, Too great for guilt, all semblance to defer Of that restraint, and that fire-bound controul, Which doth await the sin-seduced Soul, And leave it thus — almost Eternity — Which it may pass so fetterless and free, That it, in so much good, immediate, Might seem for Heaven, far-off, to compensate. If Souls there be, and these Souls are detained, Till they, by flesh- that 's-risen, are regained ; Then there's a depot now, a Soul's-home too, Without such spot can Heaven or Hell be true ? Spirits ! or Souls ! from out your frames expelled ! Spirits — or Souls — in Time's-abeyance held ! — 76 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Ye — in your homes — I anxious would beseech ; If voice of prayer your habitation reach ! Departed Souls ! Or be ye good or bad ! Ye joyous Souls, or all ye Spirits sad ! Ye anxious Souls ; that unconvinced sit, If Justice crush, or Mercy's voice acquit ! Ye pending Souls, which hang the Heavens betwixt, With life unjudged, eternal doom unfixed ! Ye sentence-waiting Souls, who now, in Time, Escape the doom, the punishment of crime ; Unblest — uncurst — unheaven'd yet — unhelFd — Uncheer'd by saints — by demon-voice unquelled — Some spot is there, some intermedial ground — Some neutral state, where formless Souls are found, Oblivious all, awaiting Judgement day ; — No useful life, no wasting, no decay ; Herded and huddled there ; admixture sad ; In heterogeneous heaps of good and bad ; Commingled deep, in mass, yet separate still, As are the liquid water-drops which fill Our seas and oceans here ? The ocean- wide, Methinks I see, in deep and silent pride, Rolling immense ! — My heart is filled— and Thought, Homewends with awe, and deep emotion fraught ! Yet, though sublime that mighty ocean be, 'Tis but — ' the one palm-drop of Deity ! ' — And Man hath rode upon its raging breast — Hath laid his hand upon its foaming crest — THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 77 Hath driven his prow unto its farthest bound — And circumscribed it oft, in length and breadth, around — But, thought so dread, if in the mind instilled, As ' boundless seas, with human Souls upfilled, As water-drops close-pressed,' must waft us wide Beyond the range of strong conception's tide. Deep, plumless seas ! — Rolling in restlessness ! — With essence filled, and Mind, but matterless ! Filling each day — increasing hour by hour — In depth augmented by incessant shower Of human Souls ! — Silent— continual — Into the Gulf of Death they ever fall — As fast — as numerous strewn — as frigidly As plenteous rain down-pattering on the sea ! — A mass of Souls ! — Condensing as they fall ! — And yet distinct — and so divisible — That, mingled thus, in this immortal sea, Each Soul preserves its ? individuality ! ' Is this 6 young thought' a crudely formed conceit f Or truth, which soon its parallel shall meet ? Speak out — ye mute and dormant Spirits speak ! And truth impart ; for truth alone I seek. Is it of joy or sadness ye declare, Your silence taunts, and doubt doth urge despair ! In love explain, or else in pity tell ; There is a torture indescribable ; 78 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. A madness, felt by the inquiring Soul, when she O'erhangs c the gulf of deep Uncertainty,' More agonizing far than woe that's brought By full conviction found — though horror-fraught. Think not I will endure the mockery, Or be the sport of shouting fiends, like HE, Who yet beside me stands, and scoffs, and jeers, As futile hopes, and baseless dreams, and fears Alternately prevail. Light may distress, But though ye truths, most wonderful, express, And speak to me, in words that wake surprise, Of things more strange than Fancy can devise, I will receive all ye unfold to me, E'en as a child, the most implicitly ! I would that I could hold disclosure's fee ; Or could induce ye now, by urgency, To speak one word of knowledge- true, that I Might weave a Faith, my Soul to satisfy ! If ye are moved by human woe or weal ; — If ye, with Man, some sympathy can feel ; — If ye survey Futurity's abyss ; — Or if ye grasp Infinitude of Bliss ; — If ye have trod Eterne's immensity ; — Or have withstood all Pain's intensity ; — THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 79 If ye can mete th' unfathomable deep ; — Or break the bonds, interminate, of sleep ; — If ye've Eternal principles surveyed ; — Or if ye can DestructionVhand evade ; — If ye know ought would save — Why that withhold?— Or ought would urge — Why not that truth unfold ? — —All speech as yet denied ? I've called in vain ! — Then farewell Heaven ! — Unto my Earth again I trembling turn, and thus I seek from thee, Reveal, dense-Dust, this awful mystery ! Fve heard, full oft, thy dwellers speak of Hell ; Ask — " where ?" — the simple truth they cannot tell ; But downward point, significant, as though The Earth were crust, and sin had dug below Its desolating Pit ! — Deep argument I hold not now, but would be most content That some lost Soul, arising now, some Dead, Should ope' the Grave, and tell how he hath sped ; And mournfully give my Mind at length to know The secret bound within those realms below ! A veil hath Death — and Hell a covering — But are their depths beyond discovering ? Oh, for a power, a might Herculean, To roll, from off the Sepulchre of Man, 80 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And from the Cave-mouth there of deepest woe, The mountain-rock, which thus, to realms below, Imprisoneth his Soul ! — Oh ! now for power To live within Eternal- woes one hour ; And yet, my footing here on Earth regain, And then, with voice prophetical, explain 6 The Hell of Man f Whether the word proclaims < Burning of Souls /' Actual and pungent Jlames ! The Spirit made, by process none can tell, Conscious of all, yet all combustible ! Whether, indeed, ' the worm that never dies,'' With all its pain, and ' gnashing teeth,'' implies ' Conscience'' — whose tooth, the Spirit never spares, But feeds, and gnaws, and as a canker wears, Deeper eternally — through past sins stealing, To open wounds beyond een Mercy's healing ! I can conceive a Soul which shall survive, With Conscience too, so actively alive, That it shall make a Hell, where'er it be, Deepest and fullest felt where it can see The joy, the bliss, the pure, eternal rest, Which marks the home, the mansions of The Blest ; Envy, despair, inhabiting the place Where God displays 'the riches of his Grace!' A sphere of bliss, with Peace and Glory nigh, From sight of which their longing Souls ne'er fly ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 81 Bui herein find the deepest sting of hell 7 That Grace is nigh, but unavailable ! — But, Tophets, dug for purgatorial den, Where sink, chin-deep, the guilty Souls of Men r Require so much of matter's sustenance, Some sphere must find the dismal residence ! * Where burns it now f " Indeed they cannot tell,. Unless each Sun becomes each System's Hell ; Its influence felt, around the which we're cleaving ; Kindled, e'en now, the Souls from Globes receiving; When grace claims not, and by its bonds returning, Plucks them, as brands, from this eternal burning. Some fancy Earth doth now that space afford ; Where wrath, as yet, in Elements is stored ; And I, presumptuous grown, as Korah fell, With weighty sins, may burst the brittle shell, And find, in caverned fires, I now deride, Woe for my guilt, and payment full for pride. I would that time anticipate, and bid My Spirit lift the adamantine lid From off the seathing pot of inmost Hell, And terrors view, now indescribable ! I would, this Globe, submitting thus to me, Should burst the womb of its solidity, 82 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And to its centre yawn ! — With startling din To burst its bands of rocky covering ; Would bid the stratas then (whose ribs do bind Fermenting fires, within their breast confined) Swiftly to spread successive belts and bands, Until, revealed, Hell's naming centre stands ! Then would I down that crater pathway wend, And, through the fire-encrusted throat, descend, Of some volcanic gap, and, pressing thus, Essay to reach the Throne-sulphureous Where Satan sits, and sway supreme doth hold O'er legioned fiends, and demons fierce and bold ; Would hurl him thence, and from his lips controul The secret-sought — the Fate-word of the Soul. Would tread through Hell's o'erheated halls, my way ; Through parched caves, and calcined caverns stray, And tortured Spirits seek ! A spirit found, Of quenchless fire, and falling flakes around, Would sit regardless, and attentive hear, With wakened wonder, and excited fear, A tale, within the depths of Tophet sung, By mortal heard, expressed by lip and tongue, Which once were human powers ; but now are doomed To burn unmelted, kindle unconsumed ! I would conjure e'en Satan, by that word, That awful name, which whisper'd there, and heard, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Subdues the discord-note, quells blasphemy, Silence commands, stills Hell's tempestuous sea ! Spirits accursed ! — I would appeal to you For thought of Hell, and for a picture true, To bless, or blight ; to wither or console, Error disperse, or Fancy's eye controul. When were ye doomed ? How lost ye first estate ? Are Men, by Guilt, partakers in your fate ? And shall, companionship, though short, in Sin, Impart to us unheard-of suffering ; Painful to bear, yet fostering human pride, Because 'tis borne alike, and dignified By Spirits erst of Heaven, who foretime shone As stars of Light before Jehovah's throne ? Crushed by one arm, despite your multitude ; E'en by one word, one vengeful look subdued ; Smitten, and chained, altho' ye vainly boast " Ye third part were of Heaven's Seraphic host /" They say, by ye, full powers are now possessed To Thoughts instil, and active deeds suggest, At wide extremes, and absolute variance With all those full convictions, drawn from sense, Which speaks the wisdom pure, the beauteous plan, That made the worlds, apportioned them to Man, And did provide, by all they yet possess, For all his wants and every happiness. 84 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. They say, that ye, whispering within the heart, Desires create, knowledge thereby impart ; And, though amenable, with God dispute, His holy word, his spoken truth refute ! That ye, your speech so subtlely do frame, Hearing ye find, and deep attention claim ; And Man, well-pleased, as ye do sense invite, Attentive proves, and hears with full delight. Ye Spirits pent within the Shades below ! Struggling to burst the abdomen of woe ! Now boldly speak, as freely I Ve appealed, Or hence be mute, your lips for ever sealed. I had not paused Spirits to thus invoke, But here, with scorn, the Tempter's self inbroke, And stayed my speech. With most contemptuous glee He loudly laughed, and long, and lustily, Until, from 'neath the Ocean' s-bed, there rung Ten thousand oaths — from Hell's dominion sung. " Hark ! Hark .' he cried, Before thine accents die, " Demons obey ; e Spirits accursed' reply. " List to th' imprisoned demons' discontent, " With voice commixed of boisterous merriment, " As they, on couch of fire, recline below, " Drunk with damnation' s-cup, inebriate with Woe I " Madden'd, and stung by cruel flames of Hell ! " With endless agony irascible ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 85 " Hear now, those fallen Spirits say, how HE, " The unappeased, and vengeful Deity, " Bound them in darkest Hell, and table spread " With torturing food, there daily varied, " And mixed in quality ! — Tempting — to cloy ; " Feeding — to waste ; sustaining — to destroy ! " Supplying life, which doth in Tophet dwell, " With aliment of fire, combustible ; " And yet, for them, such sure preservative, " It tempers fiends in Torment's Realm to live ! " How too, most inexorable, God hath, " Plied Spirits-doomed with wine-cup-deep of Wrath ; " Whose fumes, phosphorical, do veins ignite, " And kindle there, in seeming forms, the light " Which manifests Hell's gloom ; each demon frame, " A molten, glowing, vehicle of flame ! " Melting eternally, yet never dead ! " For ever wasting, yet for ever fed " With such essential strength as might sustain " Unceasing torture, bear eternal pain ! " How oft I've seen their wild and fiendish glee, " As they, the cup, have quaffed rotatively ; " And whilst, with gesture fierce, and dreadless look, " This demon-crowd their molten-fists have shook " In God's eternal face ! Tempting his blow ! " Daring his wrath ; and lightly bearing woe ; 86 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " And, with fallacious mirth, and deep pretence, " Have heard them ask some suffering-drug-intense ; " Hopeful that God, forgetful grown in ire, " Might then o'ercharge the pungency of fire ; " And whelm, in stemless tide of misery, " That hated boon, their immortality ! " But wherefore ask ? — what boots it now to thee " What Angels are, or if there demons be ? " Serpents 1 , mayhap, if such doth suit thee well; " Then Sons of God 2 who in his presence dwell, " Or there, at times, as audit court, appear, " Account to give of works or journeying here ! " When fraud's required, a whispering Spirit nigh, " In Prophet's ear, to instigate a lie. " To Man and God an adversary 4 bold ; " An agent 5 next, who doth commission hold " To urge to guilt, to deeds of violence call " Men born to sin, predestined thus to fall ! " A Tempter 6 then, whose specious tongue assails " When Man desires, and sinful nature fails ! 1 Genesis iii. And the Serpent said, &c. 2 Job i. 6. Satan presents himself before the Lord. 3 1 Kings xxii. 21. Satan was a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets to persuade Ahab. 4 Zach. iii. 1. And he showed me Joshua the High Priest standing be- fore the Angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to resist him. 5 John xiii. The Devil having now put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot. 6 Eph. ii. The Spirit that worketh in the Children of Disobedience. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 87 " The Dragon-foe l , famed in celestial fight ! " Then Angel-pure 2 , transformed with spiritual light ! " Which then, of these, the numerous names, or powers, " By fraud assigned, is held by us or ours ? " Of Satan, or of Hell, of Spirits cursed " Who gave the notion false, who told thee first ? " Seductive tales, as false as mist-born sea ; " By fear begot, and nursed by knavery. " Think ye thy God, if he the demons chain, " Would not alike their i?ifluence restrain ? " If God retain Omnipotency still, " Agents we are, and paramount his will ; " And that false cloak from God and Man is torn, " The deep disguise, which both alike have worn, " When they, so oft, demerit-act denied " For plague-vials poured, offences multiplied ; " And placed, as plea, on influence adverse " Motive for sin, or justified the curse. " But I would bid you now reflect, and pause, " Spirit of Earth, too ardent in the cause, " Too eager much, too pressing now in chase, " Of that, which shall thy Thought outrun, in race, " Though fleet and fanciful. — In love, I say, " That awful gulf most steadily survey, 1 Rev. xii. There was war in Heaven — Michael and his angels fought against the Dragon. 2 Acts xiii. Satan himself is transformed into an Angel of Light. 88 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Ere you attempt a plunge, so desperate, " Thou would'st withdraw, but find, indeed, too late, " That downward rush, most heedless, most insane, " Hath footing lost, thou can'st no more regain. " Too soon, the painful path, which thither leads, " Unsought, unwished, you '11 find ; no skill it needs " To tread the labyrinth- walk to Death and me, " Thou'rt led by Fate, guided by destiny. " But pass the fraud which doth to me assign " The ills of Fate, and all those sins of thine ; " I would not here incongruous power deny, " But ask — how given ? — Possession's proof deny. " Mayhap the Jewish Talmud thou hast read, " By learned Rabbins' pen once figured. " Or darker still, more deadly far, less true, " Within the bloodstained GospeVs pages, you, " With priest-trained thought, and paucity of mind, " Have hoped to see, or fancied you could find" — What I so wide, so erringly have sought ! What I, with joy, would thankfully have bought With twice ten thousand worlds, had worlds been mine, And could worlds pay for truth and grace divine ! Demon or Fiend ! Deep thanks I owe to thee. For that one word, though named deridingly ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 89 That * Gospel's ' name, with magic wand, hath burst My Spirit's spell, which, voice of thine, accursed, With error's folds, had deeply then entwined, And hath dispell'd the vapours of the mind ! " My God ! — In deepest reverence, to Thee, " I humbly bend my long-reluctant knee ; " And would, in penitence approach, and raise " My feeble sacrifice of fervent praise, " And never-ceasing love ! " My God ! I bow"— But where 's the Fiend ? and where's the Tempter now ? — Dispers'd ! — His counterfeited dignity Transformed into its own deformity ! And all the grace-assumed, of angel proud, Rolling away (as darkest thunder cloud Rolls up before the breath of freshing breeze) Unto Creation's last antipodes ! Oh ! then the mind rejoiced that it was free From sinful doubt and dark perplexity, Instilled by him, who every sin controuls, The Foe to God — the Enemy of Souls ! With < eye of mind' I watched the fading cloud — With 6 voice of joy' my taunts I flung aloud — " Away — away — flee back to Halls of Night ; " There tell your fiends, with stern and fierce delight, 90 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " How long you thrall'd my Soul ! — And tell there too " How it, at length, did burst your meshes through ; " For now, away, the clouds of darkness roll, " And through my late dark mind, throughout my Soul, " A gleam of joy, a ray of Truth is shed, " Delusion's past, and Doubts are vanished V Now Nature's voice may speak, and I may hear, Without a dread, without one startling fear, That now, its truths, the Demon shall pervert, To fix, as shaft, with keen and deadly hurt, Into my anxious Soul ! — How solemnly, I now may hear the Earth, and Heavens reply, To all the wild, the visionary rush Of sinful words, for which my cheek would blush, Were mine the Parent- wing, where such thoughts dwell, Or were I made, for them, amenable ! But I am wearied now, require a rest ! The steed of Fancy I have urged, and pressed, Beyond her strength ! Fain would I breathe a space ! And, from this wild, and visionary race, Subside into more fitting frame of mind, A tale of truth, in Nature's voice, to find. Reader ; If in the kindest courtesy, Down this wild stream, thy thought hath followed me, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 91 Best thee awhile ; fancy forego, and pause, Whilst Nature's voice doth tell of steadfast laws, Proclaimed by her alone. — Do not conceive, That Nature can, each doubt-expressed, relieve ; Do not suppose, her most extended line, A soul can tell, Eternity define ; Nature did speak, but only this to show — From Natures book, the student, ne'er shall knoiv, What his immortal interests are ? — She spake, But yet so soft her voice, it could not break The thread of rushing thoughts. Nor would I stay The current of my song, by such delay, As must break off the ' chain of questioning,' Which had been eloquence, could I but sing, With energy, half equalling in power The tempest of my mind, the excitement of that hour. When s big thoughts' rushed, without the mind's controul, A ' flood of doubts,' and overwhelmed my Soul ! First I inquired of inward powers, which dwell Within my frame, and sought what they could tell. And what said these, my sense, my brightest thought, And what the light imagination brought ? They said, or, by deduction, seemed to say, " The all, your powers presume, they can convey, " Is but by my negatives. When sought, they cry, " We feel the Soul, by yet, it is not I. " 92 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Of us, who emanations are, you ask " A knowledge deep — the Soul !— An useless task ! " Survey, as it is now conformed, thy frame, " 'And think once more, whether effect can name " Its one efficient cause ? — Or, whether thus, " All Nature's course, can be reversed in us ? " The faculties, which are derived, remain " One step behind the Soul, our frames contain. " And so do these, the things of lower grade, " Submit to be, by higher powers, surveyed, " And thence controll'd. — And thus, the Spirit then, " Exists unjudged, unsearchable by men. " The Soul, viewing the things which are but Earth " Aided by Thought, to which it first gives birth ; " May judge of Matter's power, and furnish thence " A data sure for origin of Sense ; " Beginning there, may see, how sense, combined, " May talents blend, and build a vigorous mind. " May, from Experience too, conclusion bring " Where Feeling dwells, and where our Reasoning. " All things in order due — First comes the Cause, " Then somewhat tangible, to feel its laws. " The Jlrst of all things is ethereal ; " Our God is such, and who can say, or tell, " Whether the Soul in Man, a portion be " Of Him — the life-infusing Deity. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 93 " Conceive the Soul an isolated ray, " Which God, to Man, as birth-boon doth convey ; " And then, beginning thus, a chain we see " Of linked-effects, described most easily. " Make Soul a first ; then Brain ; then Thought, the third, " Result produced of these, when they are stirred. " The Brain, Soul-stirred, produces Will, or Thought ; " And these, moving on nerves, throughout our system wrought, " To some obedient limb do then convey " The Will, thus formed ; it feels, and doth obey ; " And thus, throughout the line, the links are traced ; " The Soul-born- Will by deed, and action graced, " But mark the onward course ; behold how these " Step-like advance ; differ in just degrees ! " Matter doth not these rules reverse, and find " The moving cause, which must precede the Mind. " The Brain, and Thought, its emanating ray, " Have not the power, the Spirit to survey. " As well our Souls might burst their line decreed, " And grasp The Cause, whence they did first proceed ! " All things beneath, consent to Spirits' view ; " God sits o'er all, and looks our Spirits through. " We find then linked, within this frame of ours, " Physical force, and Intellectual powers ; 94 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Or Organs fine, we say, with powers immense, " For labour's act, for full intelligence. " These Instruments, we find, arranged for use, " In suited spot, whence they their work produce ; " If active made, and handled well they be, " By higher power, which moves exclusively ; " Which Power must be the Soul ! " Men often say " The Mind consents, members and nerves obey? "But Mind, and Sense, and Reasoning, and Thought " Are finished Works, each separate, Soul-wrought. 66 For each of these provision-just is made, " A fitting tool within the brain is laid ; " But all these powers are passive, and inert ; " Volition need ; cannot themselves exert. " The Soul selects, an Agent finds, it wills, " Then gives the impetus, and Brain fulfils " (If all its powers are kept in perfect state) " Desires thus formed, which thence must emanate. " Soul moves the Brain, and 'neath its powerful sway y " The Will is formed, and waiting-powers obey. " Imagination take— 'tis not the Soul ; " It doth excite, and wanderings controul. " Our Fancy, Reason, Wit, or deepest Thought, " Are not the Soul ; without its aid they're nought ! " They do obedience yield, obey its laws, " Are sure effect, but not the stirring cause. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 95 " It is a Guest ; secret ; invisible ; " Distinct from Thought ; yet indivisible, " As streamlet is from source. The Mind may be " A lofty wave — the SouVs th' exhaustless Sea ! " The Soul, is then, by Thought, and Mind, unheld ; " By Matter s death unscatter d, undispell'd ; " It is the Spring of Life ; the Well of Thought ; " Sustaining all ; itself supplied by nought. " Itself unborn ; except by God, unbred ; " At birth implanted here, but not engendered. " It can exist without each talent's aid, " Its offspring they, by subtle influence made. " All these destroyed, we frequently have seen ; " And yet, the Soul, divest of them, hath been " As full of life, and all therein possessed, " As when, by them, its fruits were manifest. " It independent lives, of each, and all; " But they, without its sure support, must fall, " Inert and paralized. UnsouFd — they die — " For they exist, and germinate thereby. " Vapours they are, which rise, and emanate, " From Matter's pores, which Soul doth penetrate ; " And thus, we say, — If all of Matter lives " By some infused power, which Spirit gives, " It can, and must exist without the ball, " The earthy mass, whereon its beams do fall. 96 THE PSYCHOLOGIST, " It kindles powers to life, and ever, thence, " Of self affords an ample evidence. " The body's Death, when rightly viewed, must be " Physical want, some incapacity, " To harbour then, or to obey the Soul, " The Dust it quits it can no more controul. " The powers of Soul do not submit to Time, " Feeble in youth ; lusty in Manhood's prime ; " Withering and wan in age ; an Infant's Soul " Might manhood's days, and giant strength controul ! " Physical powers have grades — Organs decay ; " Matter grows weak, and pulp doth wear away. " The Soul is there, with Brain to think too weak ; " The eye may fail, the tongue refuse to speak ; " Too young the frame may be, for vig'rous use, " Destroyed by time, or sickness, or abuse ; " And thus is Soul Sense-shorn I — Defects prevent " Its outward acts, frustrate the Soul's intent. " So subtle is the Soul, in its supplies, " That none explain, whilst no one power denies " That it exists, in might, that's more intense, " Than Reason, Thought, or every outward sense ; " ' Tis power which stamps volition on the whole, " Free to exert, constructed to controul. " Thus, Action must revert into one source, u All else are Agencies, and thus, of course, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 97 " Not having power evil to do, nor well, " Censure escape, and are unblameable. " Thus, shall thy frail, and^crumbling body, be, " As passive agent here, all screened from misery ; " And therefore withers it, to smallest grain, " Never to grow, nor be condensed again ; " An earthly mass, into the Grave to fall, " But rise, for punishment, at God's own call, " A body-spiritual ; for Heaven, or Hell, " Henceforth replete, and incorruptible l ? " And why, should Man, a deathless Soul deny ? " Wherefore be led, and governed by the eye ? " Methinks, the thought, that herein ye possess " An endless life, should fill, with happiness, " All minds but those, burthen'd with sins so great, " They dread to live, and would annihilate, " With impious hand, their Souls ; were death-blow known, " Or could they say, ( my Life, my Soul's mine own.' " Proud Men have been, we will not call them wise : " Nor would we thus true wisdom stigmatize ; " Who sweep the Soul, with present things, away, " Make Matter all, give Cerebellum sway. " But mark, of those Philosophers we speak, " And only those, who do its matter seek, " And tumble it about, familiarly, " Until, their fancied wit doth feel, or see 98 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " The all it ere contained. Therein they find " Such just arrangement made, such laws for Mind, " That they deny, existing there, a Soul ; " Observe no want, nor mark its wide controul. " Tell you, that all you fondly look upon, " As emanative ray, from Him, the Eternal One, " Is but The Brain ; that its convolving lines " Volition make, and thus a Soul defines. " Ah ! say they so ? Then hope there is for those " Who scoff at sin, and virtuous deeds oppose ! " If Matter wills, and sins, of own accord, " Then Matter too must reap the sure reward ; " And Matter might be hid, it shall decay, " And thus perhaps, escaping Judgement-day, " Evade the wrath of God ; by fixing crime " On that, or those, who last, at Judgement time, " Do hold the sinful mass ! " Thou Worm! Brain-fed! " Withhold the pulp thy tooth hath pilfered ! " Thou hast unsouFd the skull ! Devoured the brain, " The mass, thus stolen, let Mercy's hand retain ! " Thou hast devoured Man's immortality ! u Doth it enlighten dust, enliven thee? " Thou hast a banquet made upon that germ — " A human Soul — and art thou yet a worm ? " Or can'st thou thence extract of feeling ought 66 Which shall thy form endue with human thought ? THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 99 " Too wise art thou that substance to retain ; " 'Twas won from Earth, and thus, to Earth again, " Thou didst the pledge restore, lest unto thee " Should cleave the wrath of the Divinity I " Earth holds it then, and thus, descends at last " The curse on her, which at 'the fall' was passed. " Oh ! Doctrine false ! Treading Confusion's verge, " Too soon would'st thou to this conclusion urge, " There is no spot by Spirits only trod, " No Heaven — no Hell — no Soul — and thence — no God ! " Is this a picture strange ? Is it denied ? " Is it a metaphor that's false, or wide ? " Is it a mental inconsistency, " Outheroding afar the chimeras that \)e ? " We tell ye nay. In this you will but find " The course, the progress sure, the end defined, " Of tenets dark, which should abhorred be, " Debasing creed — Materiality ! " 'Tis strange, that Men, loving to be perverse, " Will make great powers of intellect a curse ; " And Error seek, and find it too, with pride, " Which, in the swain, is happily denied. " Who stands agape, at long-drawn argument, " Then sighs at learned men, and feels content " That yet he hath a secret consciousness, " Within him fixed, that he doth now possess 100 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " A life, a soul, a most immortal flame, " Distinct from powers, and members of his frame. " 'Tis true, he cannot name, nor trace each part, " But yet he's sure, for, in his thankful heart, " He feels the kindling power. " And, even so, '" We feel, and tell, what science ne'er can know. " Did we possess an Angel's piercing eye, " We doubt, if then, we could the Soul descry, " With ken, more clear, than all ye sons of Earth, " May now deduce, whether, or how, at birth, " The meanest form of all the reptile breed, " Spirit receives, or hath a Soul indeed. " Spirit it is ; and wheresoe'er possessed, " It sight evades, and baffles touch and test. " We then, thy powers, which in thy frame abound, " Ourselves have sought, and baser parts have found ; " And but suppose, that through each substance dense, " Something more pure doth steal, to influence. " We can but feel, as piercing Matter through, " Some innate power we fail to bring to view. " We feel a Soul, but fail to comprehend; ** Define it not ; yet would the truth defend. " Useless it were, for things which emanate, " Their forming cause to seek to penetrate; " Useless, it is, to seek our founts among, " Or break our rest by your appealing song ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 101 " We speak in every power of daily use, " And from these powers, if thou art wise, deduce " This one great truth — ' All things must have one head,'' " And Man, by Soul, is moved and governed; " All movements made to one first power revert, " This primal force can no one sense exert ; " Be sure, within the Soul, movements begun, u That Soul pre-moved, by Him — the Eternal One. " No more we know ; though Reason beams in Man, " No thought of his Eternal things shall scan ; " Fancy is mute ; nor hath the Feeling speech ; " No power-devolved the Soul can show or teach ; " We would, but cannot yet, send truth to thee, " The secret sought rests with Divinity 1" This one door closed, and yet, no spirit found, I turned again, to stars, and worlds around, And looked afar, into Creation's maze, And thought, that countless globes, and endless days, Might lend an image of the Soul ; or give Some spot for Heaven, where ransom'd Souls do live. Or might explain, wherefore, at cost immense, These globes were made, if but a residence, An unabiding home, for me and thee, With short, and unconfirmed tenancy I I saw their harmony, I clearly found Systems immense, in general concord bound ; And felt, and knew, their purpose must be one, Or this resemblance why ? and why this union ? 102 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. What then said Orbs, which there so brightly shine, That, Fancy's eye, fills them with light divine? " Mortal," they said, " thine erring mind divest " Of powers, by us, the distant globes, possessed, " Which do not now reside, in thine, and thee, " And might be known, by closer scrutiny " Of thine own Earth, and all the things which lie u Within thy reach, and close beneath thine eye. " Divest thy mind, of any taught controul, " Which planets urge, upon thy Thoughts, or Soul! " In systems bound, by Wisdom's laws, 'tis true, " We have, and must exert, an influence due " On all material things ; which we, again, " From them receive ; and thus, the whole sustain ; " And mutually impart, the requisite " Of motion-just ; vitality, and light ; " But have no power, and never were designed " To influence Man, or subjugate his Mind. " Brightly we beam, and when from Earth we're viewed, " We thoughts beget, big with Infinitude. " We but beget — for all beyond is vain, " We cannot teach, nor fully yet explain, " To Man, who limit hath to every sense, " Of worlds, like these, endless continuance. " 'Tis not, because we tell an obscure tale ; " But 'tis, because, Man's intellect doth fail. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 10# " Doth fail to run, from that his eye hath viewed, " For ever on, into Infinitude, " Presenting worlds, as costly in their frame, " Crowded with souls, in each respect the same, " As that small globe, which seems, to him, to be " Effort so great, e'en for Divinity, " That God (creating globes, to such extent u As makes the myriad stars, your Heavens present, " Not more than unit-mark, whereat begins " The endless round, th" Eternal reckonings) " Could not afford such means, could not endure " Efforts so great, such vast expenditure ; " But must, at length, in such a reckless cost, " Himself outpour — Omnipotence exhaust ! " Infinitude — the place where God doth dwell, " Therefore remains most inexplicable. " Man never yet hath image framed, nor heard " One thought expressed, which comprehends the word. " No figure can we show, howe'er sublime, " Which gives us more than form, or space, or time, " Collected first, then swelled, and multiplied, " Till figures fail, and numbering-power's denied. " Men's minds imagine vast extent by spheres, " Propelled through space myriads of months and years, " To reach a given point. These, hurled at rate " Which Man computes not, nor can can calculate ; " Myriads of years are swiftly passed away, " Myriads succeed, nor doth the ' cast^balP stay, 104 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Nor is it spent, nor slackened yet in pace, " But onward flies, rolling an endless race. " Its travelled-line is great ! But yet 'twill be, " When 'tis compared with an Infinity, " An uneootended point. Ye must confess " Infinitude, by Man, is measureless. " The swiftest flash of light the eye can see, " Which waits not time, but bursts momentary, " Hurried for ever on, shall ne'er be found " To reach the verge, nor nearer draw to bound " Of that, as yet, most inconceived state " Which hath no end — exists but to dilate. " And then, to give, somewhat of simile, " Which shall familiar make, the infinity, " Of past, and future Time. — No doubt you've heard " Of ponderous globes, into a mass transferr'd " Of finest sand. From which prodigious ball " One single grain doth loosen, and doth fall, " In myriads of years. — A mighty Thought ! " When shall that mass dwindle away to nought ? " Sublime — but false ! — Conception grand and great ; " But yet, as similar, inadequate. " If we describe that 6 mass of sand' to be, " In size, and in specific density, " Surpassed by none, no, not by planets fair, " Whose forms, globose, are distant hung in air ; " And fix the particle, the time explain, " When it shall filter thence, or pass one grain ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 105 " Then these become fixed points, firm steps are these, " Where Thought may rest, and mount, by slow degrees, " Eternal altitudes ! Huge figures stand " To mark the space of each departing sand ; " Yet Reason waits, with patient eye, because " It knows, and feels, that thus, by Nature's laws, " That wearing power, that dripping doth portend " A glass outrun, a sure, though distant end. " Such wasting slow, continued and renewed, " Must eat away that ball's dense magnitude ; " And bulk, though firm and ponderous it be, " Shall not avert the coming destiny. " It may protract, beyond all number's power, " And ling'ring sands delay its final hour ; " But yet, pursue the thought, ye must confess " The mass must melt, and by degrees grow less. " It is no parallel. For thus we say, " When, by these means, that mass shall waste away ; " And when, the globe-conceived is all outrun, " Eternal days as yet are scarce begun ! " 'Tis measureless by things howe'er sublime, « Whereby ye now compute the roll of Time. " Man's mind would fail, tortured with agonies, " Lost in a maze, bewildered, when it tries " To reach a point beyond Archangels' sight, " Unmarked by period-points, indefinite. " The simplest metaphor, and thence the best, " The only one which sets the mind at rest, 106 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " Is to describe that birthless, deathless, state, " By somewhat thence alone commensurate ; " And make this word denote and comprehend " Past unbegun, a future without end ; " The 6 all before ' the earliest hour of time ; " The c all beyond"* its last expiring chime ; " The ' ever was,'' the ' ever is' must be " The life of God, the day of Deity. " These orbs, by thee, at deepest midnight viewed, " Are atoms small within Infinitude. " Immensity, for us, was all prepared, " Before their birth Omnific word declared. " By God's creative will they all were made, " Called where they stand, begotten where surveyed. " Each made for good, we know not, yet possess, " Our title to esteem — Our usefulness. " That usefulness extended too through nerves " Of matter here, and life, until it serves " To glorify its God, in some such thing " As shall adore, through power of Reasoning. " We have not life, and cannot Soul supply, " But portions lend and feed mortality. " That portion-lent, returns ; exact in weight, " So that the beam doth never fluctuate, " Which holds each sphere, by given gravity, " To one sure path, one orbit in the sky. " If Man hath more, than he from dust hath won r " It is obtained but by Infusion THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 107 " From fountain pure, which can the germ supply " Which lives in Dust, but cannot dust-like die. " Creation's book records us not more prized ; " Nor is your globe less glorious, more despised ; " We roll, with thee, around, in space, called sky ; " Are not more lofty there, to God more nigh. " Thou can'st not hold the thought, 'twould but astound, " To tell thee this — There is no end, no bound, " Unto created things ; There is no place " Where Vacuum dwells, all profitless in Space. " And yet, this truth doth fix, and doth include " These endless globes within Infinitude. " No paradox is this, nor should it be " A thing too hard, and truth too deep for thee. " It is mislearned if it in ought appears " An end to fix to globes, or suns, or spheres. " If thou couldst ever fly, thou'dst ever find " New stars before, and stars, untold, behind ; " Thou seemest now to stand on central sphere — " Fly on again, till fifty-thousandth year, " 'Tis centre yet, if central-point can be, " Where end there's none, no line, no boundary ; " And yet, bend Reason down, and mark this well, " 'Tis true, 'tis great, beyond our power to tell ; " These endless globes, and all the things that are, " The ponderous near, the faintly lessening far, " Live, roll, exist, are holden and possest, " Oh ! words how poor ! — within Jehovah's breast ! 108 THE PSYCHOLOGIST, " Matter we are, and cannot see or teach " Where globes do end, created forms do reach ; "But this we know, the voice which did create, " Again shall sound, and we evaporate , " And Heaven, and Space, which we now Jill, shall be " Adapted then to Man's Eternity I " Go back, and be content ; this one thing learn, " What God hath hid, thy sense shall ne'er discern ; " All things, he shows, are given for guidance plain, " All he withholds, mercy and love retain ; " Did God, at thy request, an answer give ; " Thou would'st be crushed, < thou couldst not see, and live ! ' " How deep the thought, when Mind essays to run " Where Time was born, and Matters curd begun ! " Could' st thou divest thy Mind, and shut thine eye " To forms on Earth, and orbs in Air, or Sky ; " And carry back Imagination's power " To Matters birth, and to that wondrous hour u When all sprang forth, from God's creative will ; " How would it mind, and heart, and spirit fill " With awe and love ! — Oh ! who can teach or see " Thy glorious scenes, thou past Eternity ! " We will a picture draw, of state, before the birth " Of Heaven around, or floating Star, or Earth. " Suppose thyself unfleshed ! — Suppose thy Soul, " With much augmented powers, freed from controul, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 109 " Which now is exercised by Matter's tie, " To fix its range, and to confine its eye " Unto your world. — Suppose thy Soul to be " Now fixed in wide, unformed Infinity ! — " How would it feel deep pain, when high, and low, " Above, beneath, around, where sight could go, " It could no atom feel, no spot descry, " To hold its thought, or ease the agony, " Which thus would strain your Mind's elastic thread, " Then drawn — and drawn — till fixed and fastened *• Unto some far-off spot ! — All void — all nought — " No end for Sight, no harbourage-ground for Thought ! " How would thy Soul rejoice, did Mercy place " A spot — though sunk, and buried so, in Space, " That Thought, whose rapid wing, outrunning Air, " We cannot time, should take, in travelling there, " Unnumbered years ! — Hope would that soul sustain ; •" 'T would speed, and hope ; and hope, and speed again ! " And such a state as this there must have been ; " E'en such strange state each Angel's eye hath seen ; " But that they knew, and felt themselves to be, " Inhaling GOD ! — Breathing Divinity ! " But that they saw, and worshipped as they viewed, « THE LORD!— THE LORD! throughout Infinitude! " They looked not there, nor sought they there to trace, " Or globe, or sphere, by which ye measure Space ; " But flew they far, or spread they pinions wide ? « 'Twas GOD!— 'T was GOD! and nought there was beside ! 110 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " There must a time have been, when Deity " Existed there in lonely majesty ! " Sourceless — self-formed — incomprehensible ! " Eternal — changeless — uncommenceable ! " Lord of a universe — immeasurably outspread ! " Formless — unfilled — a vast — untenanted ! " No voice, as yet, before his throne to sing ! " No world to bow, no creature worshipping ! " Himself the source of unborn life, which HE " Did meditate to pour through vacancy ; " When He, within the vacuum, should raise " Worlds to adorn, and Man to sing his praise. " There must a time have been, ere Time was made, " When God did will, and, willing, was obeyed ; " That Angels pure, intelligencies bright, " Should be create, to revel in his sight, " And furnish Heaven ! Those pure, those spotless things, " Who fill heaven's courts with endless worshippings ! " Vessels of Mercy's choice, fitted to hold " His blissful beams, which yet were uncontrolled, " And seemed (though strange, and startling too, the thought) " Wasteful to be ! Whilst there, as yet, was nought, " In Heaven of all its Hierarchies so great, " Those 6 rays of Life' in full to estimate. " There was again a most eventful time, " When God did meditate a work sublime ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Ill " To call, from Nothing's breast, Matter diverse, " To fill, and comprehend a Universe. " He willed — and MatterVgerm in birth appears, " And Nature's womb was filled with formless spheres. " The mountains' dust, the watery brine of sea, " Together lay, in dark feculency. " A pulpy mass, in lifeless curds, unformed ; " Its pulp, as yet, by vital breath un warmed ; " As yet unstirred by Fecundation's ray, <• But mixed in gloom, disorder, disarray ! " That time, predestined long, prefixed to be 66 Before the morn of first Eternity ; " That moment fixed, arrived. — fi Let there be Light' " Was God's command — and Darkness fled — and night ! " No time, no lengthened process seen, as we " Must make to meet your mind's capacity. " He spake — 'twas done, ere forming- word was passed ; " Commanded Light — and, through the gloom, was cast, " Flashing — beaming — bursting — far away — " A Light, effulgent flame — celestial day. " A beam of Love, from God's exhaustless eye, " Expands through Space, and fills Infinity ; " O'er-power's chaotic gloom, to penetrate " The mass unformed, and vital warmth create ! " Not Light, as 'tis upon our Globe now shed, " Where scarce one beam is fully gathered, 112 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " But beams, proportioned well to boundless space, " Where God designed unnumbered Suns to place, " There bound by Wisdom's law ! " Ah ! wondrous was the hour, " Faultless the plan, and marvellous too the power, " When, in that Light, thus made ; and in that space, " These shining Globes, God did create and place, " By yearly circle made, and daily roll, " To speak his might, and tell his true controul ! " How formed, and how propelled, we need not sing ; " By what force hurled, or what the attractive string, " Which holds, as they their various orbits run, " Each rolling sphere inclined to central Sun. " 'Tis not the question asked. — Did we convey " The ruling law Planets and Suns obey, " Would it advance thy Spiritual controul, " Or gain thee Heaven, or name, or point thy Soul ? " These worlds are poor. Unto thy Soul they're nought, " Scarce worthy they to hold one anxious thought. " If viewed, they be, opposed to future state, " For loss of which no world can compensate. " They are designed for Man's probative place ; " A spot, where he may various records trace, " And thus, by deeds, may plainly register " Desires, and Thoughts, which in his heart occur, " But which, without an Act, to verify, " His fear would hide, his tougue would fain deny. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 113 " Hold them as such, and love and use them so ; " 'Tis all we teach, 'tis all indeed we know ! " We, by deduction's rules, both hear and see$ " And spheres reply by just analogy ; " Making the things, which in your globes ye find, " Assimilants to be, with all, in us, combined. " As worlds, which roll in utmost space, afar, " Are read by thee, and questioned oft, as star ; " So read we thee, so seek that world of thine, " Thy purpose ours, and ours the same design. " Reciprocal our hopes, equal our view ; " Thy doubts are ours, and ours thy wonder too. " Seeker of Stars — thy wand'ring thought restrain ; — " Seeker of Worlds — thy destined sphere regain ;— " There rest content, till Fate shall draw for thee " The veil of Death — and thence — each mystery." I feared 'twere so — And I must be content To live in doubt, and be as ignorant As plant that fades, and animals that bleed, And all the mass around, which to my need Is made to minister !. Thus Heaven saith nought, It search evades, and doth defy our thought ; Heaven's bliss — Hell's punishment — are but supposed^ Their tongues are sealed, celestial pages closed ! Pages they ope', wherein our Thoughts might stray, And Fancy flies, to read, and to survey — 114 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And then — they close the book — and, cruel Fate, Mankind permits, by Death, to penetrate The Truths which there abound ! — Then next, I sought Past-Spirits' aid, and did entreat one thought ! With every energy aroused, I cried, Appeal'd, implored, and would not be denied ! And what said Spirits then ? — Solemn the breath ! Awful, and calm, the dismal voice of Death ! A cold, dark hand, just touched my burning brow; (Methinks I feel its icy impress now ! ) Softly, a voice, I could not recognise, Though much restrained, and wafted but by sighs, The self-same tale began ! " For what — For whom — " Must I now leave the dark, and silent tomb ? " Ah ! could I not, in peace profound, possess, " Its stagnant gloom, its putrid loneliness ! " Its sleep — which though it reach its thousand years, " But as one day, one mortal's hour appears ! " Must I, silence disturb ; the grave profane, " By naming Earth, or temporal things again ; " Which I would fain, in deep oblivion shroud, " For yet some thousand years, till i Trumpet-loud' " Death's lethargy shall burst ; and I appear, " Before assembled worlds ; from God, to hear THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 115 u Judgement on Man pronounced ! My God's command " Removes, awhile, Death's firm and leaden hand, " And thus a Spirit speaks. " Ah ! could I tell " That what I know, the whereabouts I dwell, " 'Twould be, with voice so deep, so strangely new, " 'Twould still remain 6 mysterious fact' to you. " 'Twould not present itself through power of sense, " Which Man now hath, conveyed for things more dense ; " It would no picture draw, no Image give, " Which could be known, or be definitive. " How comes your Thought? — Man hears some spoken word, " And, instant then, meaning thereof 's transferr'd " To somewhat handled here, or something seen, " Something that is, or somewhat that hath been ; " But make a word — 'tis but incongruous sound, " Till, in the Mind, an Image true is found. " And new thoughts must be found, new words be made, " Ere ' things Eterne' are sought for, or conveyed. " All things are new, our faculties are changed, " New sights are ours, where Mortal eye ne'er ranged ; " We have, indeed, by passed Death, attained, w Those secret things by negatives 1 explained, " But cannot these impart ! Thou can'st not know " How held in life, or where, in Death, we go ! 1 Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, nor hath it entered into the mind of man to conceive, &c. 116 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. " We claim, in Man, no separate dwelling-place ; " Leave not a Void, nor show vacated Space ; " Steal not, nor burst an atom ye possess ; " Nor rend a nerve, nor make thy Matter less ! " When given, we urge — Matter and Dust obey ; " When called, depart — Substance and Form decay ; " But how supplied, or our departure where, " Cannot your life, nor can our Death declare ! " You ask, of Spirits, speech ; but we are mute ; " More silent far, and much more destitute " Of power, or evidence, the tale to tell, " Than any Sense, which in thy frame doth dwell. " Such may extend a partial aid to thee, " Their record's true, and herein do agree, " In pointing on, through their unvarying laws, " To somewhat more, one great exciting cause. " But we, though learned in Man's eternal fate, " Cannot the fact, to Man, communicate. " Parting, we leave no voice nor trace behind, " Which, sorrowing friend, as comfort-pledge, may find ; " But go, alas, to be for ever learning, " What's meant by Heaven, or by Eternal burning ! " Know all, feel all, and would our brethren tell, " But find the Gulf 1 , to us, impassible ! 1 Luke xvi. Between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that they which would pass hence to you cannot. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 117 " Oh ! could we speak, how would we caution thee " Pictures to draw, of inconsistency ; " Which but proclaim, a Fancy wandering wide, " A journeying Thought, devoid of spiritual guide. " These scenes explain thy Mind's lamented dearth, " Thou hast transposed Atoms alone of Earth, " And then requirest, if such wild schemes shall be " A portion just of our Eternity. " Thus to create, and thus to read the Skies, " Is vain, Imagination's exercise ; " And, if indulge thou wilt, there's latitude, " For all around there's new Material strewed ; " Place them within Mind's tube, and various views, " Shall, at each turn, thy wondring eye amuse ; " But false these sights, thy proudest visions poor, " To good thou 'It win, or evil thou 'It endure; " And back we say ! — We would, but dare not tell ; " Death seals our lips. — And, mortal Man — farewell." Farewell ! — Farewell ! — If such must be — Farewell, Ye powers of Earth — and all ye shades of Hell. Whom I, by frenzied call, and spell, have led From realms remote, regions where dwell the dead ; I seek ye now no more ! Too well content With such mad race, such wild bewilderment. An error 'tis, most dangerous, most deep ; A doctrine crude, evincing Reason's sleep ; 118 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Of pride, and vain conceit, the mixture wild ; Of strange philosophy, the abortive child ; To think, that we (amidst the mingled grains Of Matter's mass, this Universe contains) Can find or fix the soul. A spirit see, Resolve its hopes, attain its destiny. Fancy may take a long, a lofty flight ; Outsoar creation's fields, absorb its light ; But, rising thus, o'er Nature's dreariness, Her ardent wing, outworn in weariness, Must surely droop, nor reach that summit, whence Her eye, unsmitten quite, by light intense, Undazzled there, unquelled by Mercy's rays, Beyond all Space, on Heaven, or God, can gaze ; Outrun slow Time, Eternal Scenes possess, And see a Soul imbibe its blessedness ! — Reason, may delve, through Matter's heavy field ; May seek the skies, and grasp the truths they yield ; May too, with plough-share-keen of Thought-intense, Furrow the path of wide Omnipotence ; Yet, Reason's strength, ne'er grasps the Hand Divine, Which sprinkled Stars within the Skies to shine, Nor finds the Soul, for which these Skies were spread, And shall exist when Suns are withered ! 'Tis vanity extreme, 'tis stubborn pride, To seek, in natural things, or ought beside, THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 119 The Soul of Man ; whose interest to define God condescends to give " the line on line." 'Tis secret hid in Him, the which, if told, He must reveal, and must, to man, unfold His viewless Deity ! — Yet this is known ; It is declared ; simply, but fully shown ; Withheld from curious search, when motive's vain ; And yet, to eye of Faith revealed ; made plain, Declared, to those who love the Gospel-leaf, And honour God by unrestrained belief In that ' reveahnent made,' where surely He Hath oft declared his own Immutability. What were the Bible's ' pearl,' say, what it's use, If we, from things around, could now deduce Its every truth ? What waste of miracle^ Were all its precepts-pure destined to tell, What we may run, and read upon the sky, Or lurking find in Physiology. But Nature we, in each and every state, As natural guide, may safely contemplate ; And profitably read the signs, that she Doth ever give, of Him, the Deity, Who doth preside o'er all. Her voice attend, The first step 'tis, by which thou shalt ascend, And mount to Nature's God. — Remember thou — the first ! — For when the soul for knowledge-draught's athirst, Knowledge that spiritual is, and heavenly, There is no fount on Earth which can supply, 120 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Or give the Wisdom-drop ! — In Earth below The Spring of Life and Wisdom's streams ne'er flow. Shall I ought gain, though now, I daily strive, Within the womb of Nature's laws, to dive ; With comprehensive mind, seek to define Inherent heat, which bids the sun to shine, As brightly now, as first ; when forth he rolFd, And, spreading light, the Universe was soul'd ; And yet, my soul neglect, more precious still, And no one precept love, no law fulfil ? What, though my pen the Wisdom-hand revealed, Which strewed those Globes in yon pure Ether-field ; Which poised each sphere, its gravity assigned, And, hurling it abroad, in path designed, Did give an impetus, so justly found, Its rolls, and rolls, its one affixed round Eternally unurged. Nought to impede, Nought to enforce, and nought restrain its speed ! All this, would it, in Death, ought profit me ; Or change my Fate, or brighten Destiny ; Did I not ask that ' all-protecting hand' To hold me here, when sin-assailed I stand ; And guide me safe, in path which I should tread, Till Death is past, and Heaven is entered ? The Earth, the Air, the Heavens-wide, the Sky, Are glorious works, which show Divinity. An ample store, a most abundant page, When they our thought, or reasoning powers, engage. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 121 Their great design, and principles we see, Order, — arrangement-just, — stability. Each world sustained — in action all propelled ; Cast loose in Space, and yet attraction-held, And system-bound ! Such daily change, in all, As renders Time, and years perpetual ! All moving on, unto Oblivion fast, Yet God's fixed laws, from ember-dust of past, From things decayed, decrepit, or outworn, Bringing new flowers his kingdom to adorn. Filling Earth's gap, reforming parts which die, By full, and sure, and equipoised supply From particles minute. Therein we view How ' substance-gained' must 6 substance-lost' renew ; And this, one principle in Nature's laws, Declares a God, as First-Creative-Cause ; For Matter must (if we a God deny) Be matter-fed, and be begot thereby. Or whence sprang Globes, when Space did not contain The germ of worlds, or Earth's commencing grain ? What shall sustain their motion-due or weight, When vital powers shall thence evaporate ? And when, by Time, all bonds shall be destroyed, Shall Spheres then sink, or stagnant stand in Void ? Here Nature's page must be for ever sealed ; No guide, no truth doth all creation yield ; Of Earth in origin, or things to come, Nature says nought — the Heavens themselves are dumb. END OF THE SECOND BOOK. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. BOOK III. Christian — adieu ! — In fullest sense — a Dieu — I now commend, my life, my Soul, and you ! Sceptic — adieu ! — My prayer doth comprehend thee ; May God protect, may gracious Heaven defend thee ! Farewell ! farewell ! To all who hear or read ; Brothers in God, for whom one Christ did bleed ; In Time farewell ! But now, 'midst life ensnaring, Be thou, my friend, Eternal things preparing ! Farewell ! farewell ! The day doth brighten fast, This moment's ours, it may too prove our last ! Ere this day's sun doth evening's beam shed o'er us, Time may be spent, Eternity before us. 124 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Sceptic — one word ! My voice you may deride ; I cannot teach, nor can my weakness guide ; 'Tis not in strife ; no hateful hand assaileth, But love doth urge, 'tis duty's call prevaileth ! Sceptic — you pause ! And I might pause, as you, If Time would pause, and Death would slumber too ! Thou may'st not hear, but on thy track Death's creeping ; He '11 smite thee too, whilst thou art doubting — sleeping ! Sceptic — awake ! The Gospel light doth shine, To send its rays through that ' dense creed' of thine ; How dark — how deep ! — The darkest creed— the deepest ;— The ' Hell of Doubt,' in which thou sinkest — sleepest ! Sceptic — arise ! Now Life, or Death, are thine ; But soon, Fate's torch, may spring the awful mine ; 'Tis Pity shakes — 'tis Mercy's voice that calleth ; Awake — Arise— Destruction's hand now falleth ! Sceptic — you pause ! What wouldst thou see or hear ? Hath Christ not died ? Are not his precepts clear ? Can God, to Sense, give now a warning deeper, To wake thy Soul, Oh ! thou Eternal sleeper ? Sceptic — you feel ! — Then, ere those thrills subside, Search you the page you foretime could deride ; And as, intent, the Word of God thou readest, May God bestow the Spirit's power thou need est ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 125 Sceptic — what news ? — Those tears, those sighs explain ; None seek in Faith, and seek that Book in vain ; An Angel pure, those tears, that sigh conveyeth ; < My God, 1 he cries, i the stubborn sinner prayeth ! ' Sceptic — pray on ! — The God of Love attends ; Thy Spirit mounts, the Grace of Heaven descends. Pour out thy Soul — no loss thou thence sustain eth ; God fills the gap, and spiritual life thou gainest ! Sceptic — but nay ; we call thee so no more, Hell's reign is past, thy day of Doubt is o'er ! Think not 'tis strange, thy path was pre-assigned thee, God knew his time, the spot where Grace should find thee. Sceptic — that was ! — And who, before God's sight, Against his name, should not this title write ? Behold, thou'rt cleansed ! Then ever, whilst thou liveth, Confess His name, who thus, thy sins forgiveth. Sceptic — Grace-saved ! — Thy hope may be denied. Thy Prayers— thy tears, men often will deride ! But should men scoff ; say (whilst in love thou weepest) I should love most, because my sins were deepest ! Christian — farewell ! No other title known, e The Ark' moves on, ' the silver trump' is blown. Christian — one staff, one shield doth God provide us ; Let not a form, let not a badge, divide us ! 126 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Christian — lead on ! One only Guide you need ; His strength shall cheer, his blessed voice shall lead. How bright — how clear, the brightest lamp, the clearest, 4 The Voice of God,' unto thy Soul, the dearest ! « Christian — lead on ! — The way is long, and drear ; Dangers beset, and yet protection's near. The cloud by day, by night God's bright eye keepeth ; Strength through Man's way, and safety when he sleepeth ! Christian — proceed ! — Though long may be the way ; A clime, so pure, you reach not in a day ; Let not thy faith, let not thy spirit fail thee, But look to God, when weakness doth assail thee ! Christian — proceed ! — But not alone, I pray ! Lend me thine aid, reprove me if I stray ; And may the Soul, which now indites this story, Meet thee in Bliss, and welcome thee in Glory I The Word of God ! The one authority, Which speaks the Mind, the will of Deity ! Here have I gained, at length, the source, my friend, Of knowledge sought, and here must Fancy end. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 127 Well did the inspired Psalmist say, when he Through Nature looked, unto the Deity ; That in the things which God hath shown, and made, His wisdom just, and power are so displayed, That Man, without excuse must stand, if he, Wanting more proof, disclaim Divinity 1 . Nature may be confessed, as volume true — (Devils believe, and know, and tremble too) Yet God may be unloved, the Soul unknown ; For there, I do repeat, it is not shown. To manifest the Soul, and guide Man's thought To those blest realms, whose joys are never sought, In earnest strength, or full sincerity, until, The light of Grace, in Man, doth then instil Wisdom, more pure than he can ever find, In Nature's powers (which build the carnal mind), God doth, unto the seeking Soul, impart His written word, and fix it on his heart. Doth give a power to Truth ; and thence doth make ' His word' so loved, that Man, but for its sake, Will freely part with every comfort here, Aye, e'en his life, nor count the purchase dear ! And this, because, it doth the knowledge give Of what is Death, and how his Soul might live ! l Romans i. 9. That which is known of God may be manifest ; and the invisible things of Him, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse who say there is no God. 1^8 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. The Word of God ! It is the only Key That ope's the door of Mortal-destiny ! It is the clue, by which, with confidence, We tread the line, the maze of Providence ; And order view, arrangement find, where we Had darkly strayed in deep perplexity, Or lost ourselves in Doubt. It doth unfold Secrets by Nature held, but yet untold. It grasps weak Man, who sinks in shoreless fate, Holds him awhile, and doth elucidate Eternity ! — The Future shows — the Past — Man's interest here— his first estate — his last ! The Word of God ! — 'Tis given but to show There is a Soul, and whither it doth go ! It draws Man's eye away from things that be, And opens up — two-fold-Eternity ! It opens Heaven ;— and, Faith's undazzled sight, Views hill-tops fair, glittering with beams of light* The sunshine smile of God ! He presses nigh, Surveys that state, with pure and spiritual eye ;, Then turns around, to Questioner, to tell — 6 Heaven's bliss is pure, but inconceivable 1 !' It lifts the lid from dark abyss of Woe, And leading sinners' thoughts to depths below, l 1 Cor. ii. 9. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the things which God hath prepared for them that love him — but God hath revealed them unto us. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 129 Doth open Hell ! Then bids Man's spirit see, That deep, dark pit, that Den of Misery ! What joy, what bliss, the former to possess, And there partake of endless happiness ! Great God ! what depth of misery and woe, The cast-off-soul eternally must know ! Ne'er may I view that dismal pit again, For who, in woe and everlasting pain 1 , Or who, in all that is comprised in Hell, Would dare to fall, or would consent to dwell ? — The Word of God ! It ever stands alone ! There's nothing penn'd, nothing can here be shown, Which bears the least similitude thereto ; For ever read — it is for ever new. If simple thou — it simple powers doth meet ; If thou dost sit on Learning's highest seat, There dwells more wisdom-true, in but one line, Than thou, in studious life, can'st well define. It takes no sample here, of things that be, Producing themes for Physiology ; But places Faith beyond all these, and then, Tells us, a Soul 2 there is, combined with men. Bids Reason 3 bow, and Faith to condescend Truths to receive they cannot comprehend — 1 Isa. xxxiii. 14. Who among us can dwell in the devouring flames ? 2 Job xxxii. 8. There is a spirit in man. 3 Job xi. 7. Canst thou by seeking find out God ? 130 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. A spirit's sway 1 — a body's dissolution 2 — A deathless soul 3 — a final retribution 4 . It is the record book of Mundane birth ; The last, it is, which shall be read on Earth ; Believed, and loved, when all of earthly frame Is wrapt in gloom, or is enclasped in flame. It is the only book, whose words shall be Transferred from Time into Eternity ; And worthy found to be resumed above, And sung, with godly glee, and everlasting love, Before the Throne of Heaven ! I've often heard Contempt and scorn attached unto that word, Because, Men say, it opes, to human eye, Such scenes of dark and deep depravity ; That Crime it must, on tender minds, impress, Rather than sow the seeds of righteousness ! Beware of such a thought ! — Cans't thou not see, The exhibition made, of each iniquity, Is but to show, that God's omniscient eye Beholds each thought, knows each depravity Of Man's perverted heart ! Sins of each kind, By hand of truth, are clearly there defined ; 1 Rom. viii. 13. If we, through the Spirit, do mortify (or control) the deeds of the body, &c. 2 Eccl. xii. 7. Then shall the body return to the earth as it was. 3 Eccl. xii. 9. But the spirit shall return to God, who gave it. 4 John v. 28. All that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and come forth — they that have done good unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 131 These numerous sins, and graceless works, we see, The constant notice claim of Deity, And none escape his view. Written, that they, If only brought his judgments to survey, May see how just, how righteous too is He, How full of truth, and love, and equity, Are all his ways. — Men hate the book, because, Conscience proclaims they have despised his laws ; For there are none who read this book, with care, But must confess " My sins are painted there !" Aye, you may laugh, and shake conviction off, May changes ring, and point each witty scoff; But there's a time when both of these shall end, God's spirit shows, God's arm it will defend The value of his word ! And if, for thee, Mercy designs blissful Eternity, That Book will spread such beauteous scenes to view, Thou'lt read, thou'lt search, thou'lt learn to love it too ! Thou fanciest thyself, perhaps, so pure, A Bible's phrase thy thought cannot endure. Its truths are spoken there, in homely way, Clothe them in language soft, of present day. And though they do most monstrous sins disguise, You'll read, and quote, and almost idolize Works of Obscenity ! — Works, whose intent Is Vice to hide in pampered sentiment ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And make thee love, when wrapped in this disguise, Such sins, as thou, unclad, could'st but despise ! Poets have been, I speak it to their shame, Who thus clothe Vice, to earn a deathless name. Flattered, and praised, and idolized, and sought, 'Till their wild brains to wilder songs were wrought ; Lifted on high, to sit on Thrones-ideal, Until they fancied oft, and loved to feel They were a Nation's God ! — These Worms have died ! The ' Voice of Song ' could never turn aside, Nor hold the Shaft of Death ! What told their dying day ? What then their song ? — And what their parting lay ? — 'Twas bitterness ! — Or Thought, perhaps, could bring But visions dark, and dreamy wandering ! Oh ! Nature's doom ! — The tuneful bard must die ! His lip is sealed, and dark his rayless eye ! But would'st thou rouse, and startle him with curse, Quote thou his song, and echo thou his verse, And then, on c Ear of Death,' that sound would ring, Painful, and deep, God's inward thundering ; Which turns the melody of his soft strain To Discord's note, bespeaking endless pain ! But stay ! — It ends not here ! — That man could sing ! — His harp abides through Death's dark journeying ! THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 133 All Hell is moved 1 the Prince of Song to meet, They quote his verse, whilst they with " Welcome" greet ; And then, the fiends, with obscene shout do tell, " He brightly sings before the throne of Hell ;" And he, who sang on Earth, in Satan's cause, Is gone, to reap the long and full applause Of Spirits cursed, in numbers deep and dense, Hell's regal court, Hell's endless audience ! Oh God ! My God !— How will the words of Earth, Spoken in wrath, or sung in boisterous mirth, Sound there, in pause, that soon awaiteth me, Silence in Death, bestowed eternally, That I may life review ! — What word of Sin Shall I then dare reiterate therein ? Perhaps the greatest curse God could bestow ; The deepest sting my parted soul could know ; An impulse, irresistible, would be, Urging my soul to think continually, And say, and sing, within those regions blest, Trifles of Time, and all Life's thoughtless jests, And words of sinful years ! — How would the blast, liaised by my breath, make Angels stand aghast ; And swiftly speed, from that defiled place, To shelter seek beneath the Throne of Grace ; 1 All Hell is moved to meet thee ^t thy coming. 134 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Clothing both eye, and ear, lest they should see My form accursed, or hear my blasphemy ! The Word of God ! — It could alone withstand The wear of Time, whose iron-sheathed hand Doth rend the frame of Man, and Nature too, And, with OblivionVsponge, blotteth from view The puny works wherein Men did engage, Recorded now but in its lasting page ; Or left, amidst the wilderness, to be " The Monuments of Authenticity," To those whose stubborn minds had stood aloof. But that they find, corroborative proof, Stamped on the Earth ; written from pole to pole, Where Rocks uprear, or where the billows roll ; Laying on him, who would their proof deny, Blindness, infatuate absurdity, Or that more heinous sin, which would refute God's written word ! wherein each attribute Of Mercy, Love, and Justice are displayed, Knowledge is given, and Happiness conveyed. What hath preserved this Book ? Did Mankind see Their passport 'twas unto Eternity, And cherish it with care ? This had been well, But History's text the sad reverse doth tell ! Nations, and states, have banded been, in war, To sweep this book from Earthly realms afar ; THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 135 Whose every line, did Man but look therein, Conscience accused, and did condemn each sin. How oft, indeed, the long and furious roar Of Reason's law, hath swept from shore to shore ; And wave on wave hath rushed, as troubled sea, To drown, beneath its Infidelity, The Axioms of God ; too pure, too wise For Mortal minds, too bright for sinful eyes ! The clarion-voice of Wit hath screamed most shrill, Through brazen tubes, which Ridicule did fill ; Invention-strange, and Science have been rife Weapons to bring to aid the deadly strife ; All Man could frame, when most he did despise ; Or Satan's wile, on Hell's-bed, could devise ; Reason's research, vaunting of station won, Hath piled its stores, of strong combustion, Within the magazine, that Pride and Hate, Beneath the Throne of Truth, did excavate ; And, with Confusion's train, would dare explode The God of Gods within his blessed abode ; And Wisdom 's ladder too, they've lifted high, To reach Heaven's roof, and scale the guarded sky ; But yet, above the tumult loud, and din, The Voice of God, that's registered therein, Hath risen in melody, so soft, yet so profound, That it hath swelled above each earthly sound, And spread abroad, upon the breeze of Time, To combat sin, evangelize each clime ; 136 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Man's ingenuity, and Satan's rage, Could not one line efface, destroy one page ; But still they stand, Faith's weapon-sure, and shield, To vanquish Hell, and make the Tempter yield ! I fancy now I hear the Sceptic say — " If this the Guide, to point the Heavenly way, " And if, a state there be, we all must share, " For which we're urged, and bid, with speed, prepare ; " Why hath this way been unproclaimed so long ; " And why, the dark, and Heathen lands among, " Did Ignorance so spread ? If God designs to bless, " Why Error make, or cause exclusiveness ; " Why light diffuse, with partial eye or hand, " Here Grace extend, and here each sin command ; " Why draw a circling band, on Earth's wide plain, " Where light should shine, and Truth and Grace should reign, " Whilst all without, Egyptian darkness fell, " And blindfold there the Heathen walked to Hell ; " Stumbling o'er sins, placed midway in his path, " The Child of Woe, the heritor of Wrath ; " Formed, from the womb, ' a reprobate,' " And thence consigned, by God's eternal hate, " On Earth to feel the exterminating blow, " And then, to pass into the realms below, " Without one ray of hope ?" THE PSYCHOLOGIST. 13" I'll tell ye why; Lest ye, to God, in rashness, should deny Equality of ways ; and seek excuse For rash neglect, and for the long abuse Of all the willingness of God, to lead To holy thoughts, and good and righteous deed. The Heathen lands did once possess God's word 1 ; There's not a Soul but oft his voice hath heard 2 . The conscience-loud 3 , of unregenerate man, Shall witness bear, deny the fact who can ! What were the Heathens once ? What parent stem Gave birth to us, that branches not in them ? Trace back, through years of crime, their pedigree ; Review their worship strange, their cruelty ; And own, the Authors first of rites, to be The Eden-pair, and Ark-saved-family. God's spoken word, by them, was first possessed ; And in that secret cell, within each breast, A still, small voice, as monitor, was near, To guide his Soul, and make his duty clear. For full two thousand years God taught mankind By oral laws, all equally defined, 1 Romans ii. 14. The work of the law written on their hearts. 2 Deut. iii. 14. The word is very nigh thee, in thy mouth and in thy heart. 3 Romans ii. 15. Their conscience bearing witness, &c, and accusing or else excusing. 138 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. And men, who would, could their requirements fill, Frame thence their thoughts, thence regulate their will. God made Man upright here, would keep him so, But, by Invention's l power, they sought to know The things which God doth yet reserve, to teach By spiritual powers, beyond the natural reach ; But yet he did, upon their minds, impress His perfect power, his gracious willingness, To teach, to Heathen minds, in early state, As much as we, e'en now, can penetrate, Of what the Soul might be ; and thence, did give Knowledge enough to seek their God, and live. But Heathens wandered then ; and proud, as thou, (If humbled not by Grace) they would not bow To God's authority ; nor would they guidance ask ; But set their minds to this, the arduous task Of making them a God ! Seemed to suppose Some better mode they could indeed propose, Of magnifying God ; than that, which then, HE had ordained, as suitable for men. They thought they could some outward rites sustain, Were free to pray, or might from praise refrain ; May shun each act which could affect the sense With duteous praise, or humble reverence ; And Satan met them then, as thus they strayed ; And, on their minds, delusion's mark displayed ; 1 Eccl. vii. 4. God made man upright, but they have sought out many inventions. THE PSYCHOLOGIST. - 139 And they became a Folly's-badge, to show What Sense could teach, where Natural-Man would go ! Thus God taught this — If Man be destitute, Or be devoid of Grace, the prey -devouring brute Is far more merciful ; and, strange to tell, Though instinct-moved, appears more rational ! The Heathen-souls were not designed to stray ; They left their God, and turned their ear away ; They looked not then to Him, who would impart Wisdom to those who sought him with their heart. Their God they first despised ! They have no plea Of want of Love, or inequality. The fault was theirs, and we should pray, That God may haste, and bring the promised day, When all mankind shall once again be won To purest faith in God's beloved Son ! A dreary state the Heathens is ! And yet Some good there is, our feelings of regret With hope to calm ; and soothe, and palliate Our sympathy aroused, for this, their state. Their woes, their crimes, we must regret, as men, For Heathens-fierce are Christian's brethren ! But see the love of God ! — Behold his plan In drawing good from enmity in Man ! God did foresee, and did design that this, Man's darkest state, the goad should be to bliss ! 140 THE PSYCHOLOGIST. Most strange, it may appear, that Man must be Urged to exchange, for bliss, his misery ; But yet 'tis so. — And had not Error brought Its pains unbearable, Man had not sought, Nor would he, now, so fully estimate, Value, or prize, his Truth-enlightened state. Thus God, both wise and great, doth now permit Error to be, but ne'er enforces it ! And now, his Mercy-plan, o'erweighs with good The wilful mind, which Grace and Light withstood ; So teaches Man, by woes, that we declare Evil is born for bliss but to prepare. Makes grief to contrast joy, we could not know, Had we ne'er felt the bitterness of woe, Nor found the pains of sin ! 'Tis Wisdom's plan ; And now, methinks, so clearly shown to Man, That much I grieve some Christians yet there be Who question thus, almost censoriously,