Page images
PDF
EPUB

Ken's visions were sometimes of a higher mood. Of his epic poem, Hymnotheo, or the Penitent, the editor of his Select Poetry has given an analysis. In the church of Smyrna was a catechumen, by name Hymnotheo, peculiarly distinguished by the Apostle John, and recommended by him to the care of the aged Bucolo, who then presided over that church. Thus eminently favoured, the youth gradually increased in genius and accomplishments, a poet hardly inferior to Homer, until the death of Bucolo, when becoming inflated with spiritual pride, Satan gains admission to his heart, and in the temporary absence of his guardian angel, Phylacter, under the form of a spirit of light, lures the unsuspecting youth to an aërial journey, in quest of "celestial prospects." The chariot destined to convey them in this perilous voyage, was formed of six round shields and drawn by "airy ghosts" chosen out of the apostate army. After various temptations, Satan descends with Hymnotheo in the beautiful gardens of Daphne, which are described with some spirit. Having indulged himself in all the luxuries of this seductive abode, the youth begins to think of committing suicide, when Satan reappears and conveys him to a mountain-cave near Smyrna, the resort of banditti, who elect him their captain. At this critical period, St. John revisits Smyrna, and having learned from Polycarp the melancholy fate of Hymnotheo, he immediately sets out to discover his hiding-place, and succeeds in awakening a feeling of repentance in his bosom. Satan, however, again recovers his ascendancy over the youth, who is rescued from his power by the interference of his guardian angel, and delivered up to St. John, whom he accompanies in a chariot drawn by eagles, while a vision

of the future world,-the miseries of the wicked and the happiness of the blest,-passes before him. After numerous scenes of penitential suffering Hymnotheo is reconciled to the church. This brief account will be sufficient to show the incongruity of Ken's materials.

The reader may remember the original of this story in the Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius, where it is related with great clearness and precision; and Mr. Dale, who has founded his Outlaw of Taurus upon it, notices the strong presumption existing in favour of the authenticity of the legend. Irenæus and Clemens Alexandrinus both affirm the tradition to have been immediately received from the apostle John. The subject was peculiarly favourable to the display of poetical talent; but Ken's ambition only aimed at a successful copy of the Davideis; and he thought it impossible to mistake the path to reputation when closely following the footsteps of Cowley. He possessed, indeed, no mastery over the epic lyre, his muse lost her magic and her charm when she stepped out of the circle of the affections.

There is a peculiar tone of plaintive suffering and resignation in those poems to which he gave the name of Anodynes, from their composition during the seasons of sickness, when, as he pathetically complained, his days were wasted between "his couch and chair," and verse became his "only laudanum." The following stanzas open his chamber to our eyes:

Pain keeps me waking in the night;
I longing lie for morning light:
Methinks the sluggish sun

Forgets he this day's course must run.
O heavenly torch! why this delay
In giving us our wonted day.

I feel my watch, I tell my clock,
I hear each crowing of the cock;
Even Egypt when three days
The heavens witheld the solar rays,
And all in thickest darkness dwelt,
Night more affecting never felt.

The watch thus touchingly mentioned, was so contrived, we are informed by Hawkins, that the sufferer could by his "finger discern the time to half a quarter of an hour." It is now in the possession of Dr. Hawes.

When he took refuge in a book, his pains rendered it difficult for him to read a line. But his reflections upon the dreary vigils of the night are still more affecting.

As in the night I restless lie,

I the watch-candle keep in eye,
The innocent I often blame
For the slow wasting of its flame.

My curtain oft I draw away,
Eager to catch the morning ray;

But when the morning gilds the skies,
The morning no relief supplies.

English poetry contains nothing more natural or affecting than these verses. Mr. Bowles notices the very lively and original image of death in the following stanza :—

Search, who is he encharged to harm?

Him of his dart disarm,

Keen, and still pointing to my heart,

That I from God no more may start.

Cowley was the laureate of the age, and the model of Ken's imitation; but his fancy shone only to mislead. A great poet he could never have been; but pathos and grace he might have frequently attained; for his ear had a lively perception of melody; his versification is often easy and vigorous, and he occasionally turns a stanza with epigrammatic point; as in the following:

Let sensual souls, then, covet ease,
Pain rather shall my spirit please;

Ease their eternal pain will be;
And pain eternal ease to me.

His unadorned naturalness sometimes resembles the agreeable familiarity of Flemish painting; thus, in portraying a Miser, he represents him upon the receipt of a bag of gold, brightening his spectacles, and moving the table nearer the window to obtain a clearer view of the treasure. Through many of his poems, rugged as they are, runs a vein of gold, not of the purest quality, nor sufficiently rich to repay the toil of the search, but ample enough to vindicate his fancy from the charge of sterility. The poet may sigh for a greater brilliancy of wit, a richer flush of imagination, or a sweeter flow of music; but the Christian will be satisfied with the fervent sincerity of his devotion, and the cheerful sunshine of a meek and contented disposition. Like his master, Cowley, he often spoke the language of the heart.

ISAAC WATTS.

THE name of Watts was admitted into the collection of the English poets at the express desire of Dr. Johnson, whose anxiety to render justice to his virtues and talents is apparent from the letter he addressed to Mr. Dilly, in 1777. The greater portion of the following account was written before the appearance of the Memoir by Southey; but the writer has gladly availed himself of the opportunity of embellishing his work with one or two remarks by an author whose biographies alone will preserve his memory, as long as there shall be any praise."

66

ISAAC WATTS was born July 17th, 1674, in the town of Southampton, where his father kept a respectable boarding-school. He was a strict nonconformist, and suffered severely on account of his religious opinions. During his imprisonment his wife is said to have sat on a stone by the gaol-door, with the poet, then an infant, at her breast.

Isaac, who was the eldest of nine children, evinced, from his earliest years, that love of knowledge which never deserted him. We are told that even before he could speak plain, his constant exclamation, when any money was given to him, was— "A book! a book!—buy a book!" and his sister communicated to Dr. Gibbons another interesting anecdote of his precocious intellect. It was the practice of his mother, after school hours, to

VOL. II.

« PreviousContinue »