Civilization, industry, humanity, and all the social endearments, follow in its train; even the bird and the beast will feel their interest in the change. The blooming valley shall rejoice, yea, and even the upland wilderness shall be glad. The philosopher and the man of science will behold with pleasure the march of intellect, and the future development of knowledge; and the man of God will contemplate with holy joy, the spread of heavenly truth, and of pure celestial wisdom. cerned to know, I come from seeing something extraordinary. Ph. Have you been looking at the tumblers, an exhibition of slight of hand, or any thing of that sort? Th. Something perhaps not very dissimilar. Ph. Yet the spectators of such exhibitions rarely display such a countenance as yours. Th. Had you beheld it, you would have looked more sad even than I. Ph. Tell me then the reason of so much gravity in your looks. Th. I am but now returned from a Go then, thou true philanthropist, seraphic funeral. Ph. And do angels bestir thyself afresh to the work, en- die, then? Th. No; but the comdure some fatigue, conquer some diffi-panions of angels do. Not to keep culties, bear some disappointments, you longer in suspense, I believe you and thy efforts shall not be unregarded nor unblessed by him, who approveth the humblest attempts to do good. And I shall be borne out by the thousands of thy predecessors, when I say, that shouldest thou not live to witness these great results, yet if thou discoverest that thy faithful instructions and admonitions have but impressed one heart with a sense of true piety, or have caused but one aged parent to rejoice in the rising improvement and loveliness of his child, instead of having his hoary hairs brought with sorrow to the grave; or that they have prevented but one sigh escaping from his humble bosom; O then shalt thou breathe forth the sentiments of pious and contented gratitude, and from the bottom of thy benevolent heart confess,-Verily I have my reward!" EDMUND BROWN. Deal, March, 1826. SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES. (From Erasmus.-By J. Couch, F.L.S.) [THE Franciscan friars were accustomed to call themselves, by way of eminence, the Seraphic Order, and St. Francis, the Seraphic Saint; as the Dominicans were of terming themselves the Cherubic Order.] Theotimus and Philecons. Ph. Whence come you, Theotimus, with this novel appearance of piety? Th. Why that question? Ph. Because of the gravity of your countenance, your downcast eyes, your head slightly inclined towards the left shoulder, and the string of beads in your hands? Th. Why, my friend, if I must tell what you are scarcely con know the excellent and learned Eusebius. Ph. He who from a prince became a private man, from a private individual an exile, and finally a mendicant, and, I may add, a sycophant. Th. The very man. Ph. But what of him? Th. He was buried to-day, and I am now returned from the funeral procession. Ph. And a melancholy one it must have been, if I may judge from its effect on your countenance. Th. However melancholy it was, I fear it is possible to describe it without tears. Ph. And I fear I shall be able to hear the account without laughing: be that as it may, let me hear it. Th. You know Eusebius was long since in a bad state of health. Ph. I know that for some years he has been much emaciated. Th. In diseases such as his, physicians are frequently able to foretell even the very day of the patient's death. Ph. Very well. Th. They informed him that art had done all that was possible. All things were indeed easy to the Deity; but so far as human foresight could reach, it was probable he would not survive beyond three days. Ph. What course did he take in this extremity? Th. He immediately caused himself to be clad in the habit of the great Saint Francis, and to be shaved; be accordingly assumed the gray cowl and vest, the knotted cord and open shoes. Ph. When he was about to die? Th. Exactly so; and, with a feeble voice, declared, that, if, what the physicians despaired of, God should in his mercy restore his health, he was determined to war the Christian warfare accordIng to the rule of Saint Francis. To this declaration there were the proper witnesses, men celebrated for t sanctity. Clad in these garments, this | eminent man departed about the time that the physicians had said. A company of the brotherhood assembled to celebrate the funeral. Ph. I regret I missed seeing the procession, Th. You would have wept to see with what regard the Seraphic brotherhood washed the corpse, fitted on the holy garments, folded his hands on the crucifix, made bare his feet, kissed them, and anointed his face with oil according to the evangelical precept. Ph. How astonishing the humility of the Seraphic brethren, to perform the meanest offices to the dead! Th. They then placed him on the bier; and in conformity with St. Paul's doctrine, to bear each other's burden, they took him on their shoulders, and bore their brother through the public street to the convent, where he was buried with the accustomed rites. As this solemn procession passed along the road, I saw many burst into tears at the sight of such a man, whom they had once known clothed in silk and purple, now attired in the Franciscan garment, with an hempen girdle round his waist, and his whole appearance strictly religious. His head was made to recline on one shoulder, and his hands placed in the form of a cross: in fact, every thing about him had a wonderful air of piety: The Seraphic Brethren accompanied him, with their heads bent, and their eyes cast on the ground, pouring out their mourning anthems in the most melancholy notes. The spectators could not refrain from tears. Ph. Had he also the five wounds of St. Francis? Th. Of that I am not quite certain. On his hands and feet there were livid marks, and on the left side of his garment was a rent. But I did not venture to gaze too intently; for it is thought that on such sacred subjects too much curiosity is evil. Ph. Amidst all this sorrow, were there not some that laughed? Th. There were some; but I.suppose they were heretics, of which the world is at this time full. Ph. To speak the truth, my friend, had I been there I believe I should have smiled in spite of myself. Th. God forbid that you should be corrupted with such a wicked leaven! Ph. There is no dan ger, my good Theotimus. From a child I have revered the blessed St. Francis, who was neither learned nor wise according to this world; but, for his profound mortification of all worldly affections, dear to God; and also all those who study to tread in his steps, to die to the world and to live to Christ. I pay little respect to a garment; and would fain know what advantage the dead can derive from being so clothed. Th. You know it is a divine command that pearls should not be cast before swine, nor what is holy to the dogs. If you ask this question in a captious spirit, you will obtain no answer from me; but if you inquire with a simple desire of instruction, I will impart all I know. Ph. I am ready to become your attentive, docile, and grateful scholar. Th In the first place, you know that some people are so ambitious, that they are not content to live in the insolent pride of superiority, but will have the same circumstances to attend their funeral. To the dead it can be no satisfaction; but while living they frequently indulge their imaginations with the thought of this posthumous pomp. We must admit that it is of the nature of piety, to give up such an object of pride. Ph. True, if the pride of a pompous funeral could be resigned in no other manner. But to me it would appear a greater sign of modesty for a prince, when dead, to be enveloped in coarse linen, and to be carried by common bearers, to be interred with the common people, in the public cemetery. Those who are conveyed to their last home in the manner practised with Eusebius, appear to me rather to have changed the mode of a pompous funeral, than to have truly avoided it. Th. Every thing that is good is pleasing to God, whose prerogative it is to search the heart. But what I have been mentioning are trifles in comparison of what followed. mean? Ph. What do you Th. They profess before death the rule of St. Francis. Ph. To keep it in the Elysian fields. Th. No; but in this world, if they should recover. For it has sometimes happened that those who had been given over by the physicians, on putting on the holy garments, have, by the help of God, recovered. Ph. The same has happened to many who have not been clothed in the holy garments. Th. It is our duty simply to walk in the faith, whether we derive advantage | to die; yet to such was afforded the from it or not. We have the example hope of eternal life. Ph. I have noof many noble and learned Italians, thing to do with the hopes the bishops who have been buried in the holy held out; and how far the Almighty garments; and to shew that I build approved of it is to me uncertain. If no argument on the example of igno- it were unquestionable that men by rant men, so was interred the very the sprinkling of a little water would excellent Rodolphus Agricola, and immediately become citizens of heamore recently Christopher Longolius. ven, it would be a fine contrivance for Ph. An act of insanity by men in the the facilitating of the passage thither agonies of death brings to me no con- of those who during all their lives had viction; and I should be glad to learn served the world and their own lusts. from you what advantage it can be to When they could sin no longer, and a man who is stupified and overpow- were about to depart, a few drops of ered by the contending feelings of a water sprinkled on them would at dread of death and a glimmering hope once set all to rights. But it is worof life-to profess himself of a monas- thy of a serious inquiry by those who tic order, and to assume the corre- live to the devil while they live at all, sponding dress. It is on all hands allowed that the necessary vows are void, if not entered into with a sane and sober mind, after mature deliberation, and free from the influence of fear, craft, or violence. That, on such a subject, nothing sinister or unbecoming might have an influence, this profession does not oblige until after a year's trial; during which the candidate is not suffered to assume the regular dress. Profession before the wearing of the initiatory dress, avails nothing. This is an especial regulation of the seraphic man himself. Th. Whatever may be the nature of the obligation, they certainly believe themselves to be engaged by it; and this entire devotion of the will must of necessity be acceptable to the Deity. It should also be remembered, that the good works of monks, even if all other things were equal, are more acceptable to God than those of other men, as proceeding from a more meritorious root. Ph. I need not examine of what consequence it is for a man to devote himself wholly to God; for he is already rightfully his. It is my belief that every Christian has already devoted himself to God in baptism, when he renounced the pomps and vanities of the world, and all the allurements of Satan, and enlisted himself as a soldier of Christ Jesus. When St. Paul speaks of those who are dead with Christ, that they should not live to themselves, but to him who died for them, he does not confine his observations to monks, but extends them to all Christians. Th. Your mention of baptism leads me to remark, that formerly they were dipped or sprinkled when just about whether such a baptism, and such a profession of the monastic rules, be not much of a similar kind? Th. In truth, if it be allowable for us to speak of the seraphic mysteries, the profession is more efficacious than the baptism. Ph. Do you really think so? Th. In baptism the sins are only washed away. The soul is clean indeed, but at the same time naked; whereas in the other case the subject is instantly made a partaker of the extraordinary merits of the whole order, being engrafted into the companionship of the most holy community. Ph. And when by baptism we are engrafted into the body of Christ, do we receive nothing either from the head or body? Th. Nothing from the seraphic community, unless merited by peculiar beneficence or good-will. Ph. What angel has brought this revelation? Th. No angel, my good friend; but Christ with his own mouth has revealed this and much more to St. Francis. Ph. My dear friend, I entreat you to give me an account of this important revelation. Th. These are very secret mysteries, not lawfully to be communicated to the profane. Ph. Surely, my friend, I am not one of the profane; I do not esteem any order above the Seraphic. Th. But you have sometimes expressed yourself with severity concerning them. Ph. That, Theotimus, is a proof of love; for none inflict so deep an injury on the order as those who, under the cover of its sanctity, lead a sinful life. To be angry at its corruptions is to wish well to the order. Th. But I dread St. Francis' anger, if I trifle with any of their secrets. Ph. What evil can you dread from that most benevolent man? Th. I have every thing to dread. He might deprive me of my eyes or my understanding; for so he is said to have treated many who have presumed to call in question the marks of his five wounds. Ph. Are the saints in heaven more severe than they were when, like ourselves, they were dwellers on the earth? I have heard St. Francis represented as of such a kind-hearted disposition, that when he once walked along the road, and some wicked boys threw stones and rubbish into his cowl, he displayed no signs of anger, but went on his way cheerful and happy. Now, however, they represent him as full of anger and revenge. At another time, when he was reviled by a companion, who called him a thief, a sacrilegious wretch, a drunkard, an adulterer, a murderer, and every thing else that was bad, he returned his brother thanks that he had not deceived him. When his companion wondered at this reply, he added, all this and much worse I might have been guilty of, if divine grace had not restrained me. From which of these circumstances do they conclude that he is so prone to revenge? Th. Yet so it is. It is not willingly that the saints in heaven inflict chastisement. Could any be compared to Cornelius for kindness? Who so mild as Anthony, so patient as John the Baptist, when on earth? But now how terrible are the diseases they send on those who do not worship them aright! Ph. I would rather credit their removing diseases, than that they inflicted them. However, I can assure you that what you relate to me is not intrusted to the ear of one that is profane or a babbler. Th. Come, then, trusting to your fidelity, I will communicate what I know:-I beseech thee, O Francis, that neither thou nor thy companions may be angry at my relating what I have heard! You know that Paul was wise with hidden wisdom, which not openly, but covertly, he spoke among those that were perfect. These in like manner have secrets, which are not laid open to all, but only to holy widows, and others of the pious and elect, who excel in benevolence to the Seraphic community-and that only in private. Ph. I anxiously wait to hear this very sacred revelation. Th. In the first place, the Lord foretold to the Seraphic patriarch that in whatever place the Seraphic flock should meet with an abundant increase, there a correspondent provision should always be supplied. Ph. This is a sufficient answer to those who assert that the enormous and continued increase of these men is a burden on the public. Th. He further revealed, that on his feast day in every year, all the souls of the brethren who wear the holy garment, and also of those who have deserved well of the brotherhood, or who have been well-wishers of the orders, shall be freed from the pains of purgatory. Ph. Did Christ converse so familiarly with the founder? Th. Certainly; as a man with his friend, so God the Father talked with Moses. Moses delivered to the people the law which he received from God; Christ proclaimed the evangelical law, and Francis delivered to the Seraphic brethren his own law, copied out by the hand of angels. Ph. Pray proceed to the third revelation. Th. This eminent patriarch was afraid lest the good seed that had been sown might be injured by the enemy, who endeavours to mix his tares with the wheat. But the Lord removed his apprehensions; and promised him that the people with naked feet and the rope-girdle shall not fail until the day of judgment. Ph. Oh the mercy of God! thus to provide effectual security for those without whom his church could not subsist. But proceed. Th. In the fourth place, he promised him that no wicked man should be able long to continue a member of the order. Ph. Does it happen then that every man whose conduct is wicked is found to quit the order? Th. Not so. But as we know that those deny God who confess him only with their mouths, while their works are contrary to him; and yet they do not immediately deny Christ when they live immorally-so nothing is considered as departing from the order but the laying aside of the holy garments. Ph. What shall we then say of so many whole monasteries, that possess money, who drink, game, play the whore, and keep concubines openly at home-to say no more? (To be concluded in our next. ) POETRY. THE PHILOSOPHY OF ANGELS. (Written for the Imperial Magazine.) SAY, Muse, can they a shape assume Of virgin form, or manly grace? A vehicle of youth and bloom, The active limb, the lovely face? Do they 'mid amaranthine bowers In social pleasures sweetly join? Or pass in praise the rosy hours, Adoring at Immanuel's shrine? Or with an ever new delight, From star to star admiring fly; Tracing some system's golden light That never beam'd on mortal eye? Is aught to them or new or strange, In earth below, or sky above? And do they through creation range, The ministers of Heaven's love? Through all the infinite of space, Where fancy never stretch'd her line, Omnific wisdom's works they trace, In many a planet, sun, and sign. But who can trace an angel's flight, Who God's vast universe explores? And flies as swift as beams of light, Thro' countless worlds and nameless shores. Some think yon stars that spangle night, Like diamonds on an ebon zone; Are palaces of love and light, For angels, and for them alone. Perhaps they roll yon lamp of day, Vast Pharos to the planets seven; Along the azure vault of heaven. Lull'd by the sound of harp and lute? To angel's music dance along? And execute high Heaven's command; When guilty nations need the rod; Where prince and people worship God. Is it a fancy of the brain To think they are Great Britain's shield? To lead her navies o'er the main, And nerve her heroes on the field? Unseen, they in our senates sit, And prompt the wisdom so admir'd; Whence Bexley's sense, and Canning's wit, Some holy angel has inspir'd. When lovely May begins to print The infant bud, the parent flower? Spring's beauty, summer's crimson pride, The orchard's fruit, the valley's corn; Angelic ruralists provide, And plenty fills her golden horn. Whatever in the centre lies, Or through the ocean's caverns play, They scan with philosophic eyes, And piercing wit as bright as day. But who an angel mind can paint? Though Bacon, Milton, Newton join, The sketch were spiritless and faint; Then, gentle reader, pardon mine. Salop, Jan. 1826. JOSHUA MARSDEN. STANZAS TO A LAMB, WHICH THE AUTHOR CAUGHT BY ACCIDENT, AND FOUND IT HAD LOST ITS SIGHT. HARMLESS creature, calm thy fear: But has some fell misfortune found thee, And cast the shades of darkness round thee, Grazing here? Could pity's tears recall thy sight, Harmless lamb, what hadst thou done? Man against his God transgress'd; Let thy heart its throbbings cease; Go, thou inoffensive lamb, To thy dam. |