VII. Behold that maiden in maturer years; VIII. O, Sister, what an influence divine And Mother, who can fathom all thy love? X. My sainted mother! now in those bright skies, XI. And Daughter, how thy sweet affections beam, XII. And Wife! that nearest, dearest name of all, XIII. Woman, behold what lovely names are thine; And are there holier, here upon the earth? Why should thy heart insensate e'er repine At thy condition? See thy priecless worth. O! crown thyself with jewels from the throne Behold thy destiny! Is it not great? O! let not worldly follies fill thy soul; Say, what is Fashion but a tyrant's chain? XVIII. Woman, in words of song I've sought to show Fair California, may thy homes be pure, The strength of all those virtues which combine To make their lives give forth a radiance all divine. XX. O! may these blessings renovate our State To desolate our homes, where peace and joy as the salvation of mankind, and the most effectual means of securing it. But the claim set up by Henry, and insisted on by his successors, of acting as pope in England, stood in the way of effecting those further changes, which, in the reign of Charles the First, (when "The oyster-woman locked her fish up, And trudged away to cry, No Bishop')" Should dwell secure, and free from ev'ry base alloy. every tinkering reformer considered he, XXI. And now I close my theme, and say farewell EVENINGS WITH THE POETS. NO. IV. TIMES OF MILTON-"PARADISE LOST." The doctrines of the Reformation did not stop with exercising an influence on the religion and language of the people of England. The Catholic Church had taught authoritatively as the representative of Christ upon earth, and had at least a time-honored warrant for doing But the novel dogma of Henry the Eighth, that the king was the head of the Church, was one which the commonsense of Englishmen was not willing to submit to. Hence we find, that although the doctors of the Protestant faith were content for a while with joining en masse against the adherents of Rome-so long as they discovered any chance of that party succeeding in reinstating itself as the established church of England-the free spirit of inquiry, and right of private judgment, which they had set up as primary truths by which ecclesiastical teaching and polity ought to be regulated, began to exercise an influence which they did not anticipate. All classes, unlearned as well as learned, soon claimed the right to exercise their judgment in a question of such momentous importance or she, had a right to prescribe; and thus the religious disputations of the time began to affect the civil government. The claim of being head of the Church proved a very inconvenient and dangerous acquisition to English royalty. But the claim once made could not well be receded from. The people of England were almost exclusively Protestants, but Protestants dividing every day into additional sects. If the king meant to do any thing to establish a uniformity of faith, he must offend one party before he could please another; and his firm adherence to the Episcopal Church, was an excuse for the turbulent becoming disaffected, and disowning all allegiance to a sovereign who was determined to maintain, to the fullest extent, the privileges of the crown, both civil and ecclesiastical. Let protestants deride catholics as much as they may in regard to the intol erance of their religion, those who pay the slightest attention to history are aware that mere toleration was denounced by the fathers of protestantism. The king wished to do nothing more for the Episcopal Church, than others would have done for the Presbyterian, or Independent. The struggles of those days were not so much for liberty, as for supremacy. Each party maintained it was right; and in consequence, not only entitled to regulate itself according to its own notions, but to put down all other parties which differed from it. One of the most honest of those who opposed the high claims put forth by the royalists, was Milton; who, though originally educated for the established church, had become early disgusted with the vices and ambitious projects of many of her prominent leaders, who professed to be actuated solely by religious motives. His sarcastic pen spared none. It was equally indifferent to him whether the obnoxious individual was the archbishop of Canterbury, or the king himself. He only seized on the prominence of his position, to mark him out more conspicuously as the object of his bitter invective. Happily those troublous times have passed away; and we are surprised to find a man of such elegant refinement, as Milton's poems prove him to have been, giving way to such abusive language as his prose works occasionally exhibit. Johnson refers this to his irritable temper, and the world has found fault with Johnson for saying so; but I believe him. We find it bursting out on several occasions in his Paradise Lost, as if he could not help it. Let us pity him as the victim of his feelings, rather than look too harshly on his infirmities, I congratulate myself that I do not feel called upon to maintain the reputation of Milton as a polemical, or political writer, but as an English epic poet, in which position he stands unrivalled. Deeply-read in Grecian lore, and capable of appreciating the noblest flights of the Grecian Muse, he came to the daring conclusion of enlisting, as freely, the Theology of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures in his service, as the poets of Greece and Rome had done in regard to their Mythology. Of the war in Heaven, the chronological date of which, and "What they fought each other for, he formed a theory of his own; or so worked up the common belief into a harmonious system, that most christians would be as willing to subscribe it as the Confession of Faith of the Kirk of Scotland, or the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England. No one since Milton's time seems to have any doubt about the matter. He then takes as the groundwork of his pcem, the wonderful story of the fall of Man, and its sad consequences; the conversations of Adam with the messengers of Heaven, which visitings, though afterwards "few and far between," he had the testimony of Scripture were of usual occurrence in earlier times; and the story of the garden of Eden, planted for the especial use of the progenitors of the human race by the Lord himself. He describes Heaven and he describes Hell; and shows undeniably that the Devil is by no means so black as he is painted. In fact, without his meaning it, he becomes the real hero of his Romance. We become spell-bound as we read of his dauntless courage. He enlists our sympathies in his favor; and with a perversity of feeling, only equalled by some of our American-Irish co-patriots of the East, for the ruffians of Hindostan at the present time, we prefer him, vanquished and in distress, to the legitimate Monarch of Heaven! There is but one occasion in which we falter in our opinion. If anything could surpass the majestic soarings of Milton's heroic Muse, it is Milton's Muse employed pastorally. We forget Satan, his sufferings, and his wrongs, and his deeply-cherished revenge, when we read the poet's description of primeval bliss in Paradise. "Delicious is the lay that sings The haunts of happy lovers," be it the lay of poet, or poetaster. Love and innocence find a harmonizing chord in every human bosom, which it takes but little to attune. But when Milton, the matchless Milton, undertakes the task, and shows us Adam, uninformed but happy, "With one fair spirit for his minister," we have not a thought to spare, nor a feeling unengaged, for the Devil, or any one else; and when he, bent on his hellish purpose, succeeds in arriving, we feel ashamed that we should, for a moment, have allowed ourselves to become sympathizers with such an infamous blackguard. But we can not help such things. When reading Milton we do not wish to help them. It has been said, that before any stage-performer can become a great "At the royal feast, when, Persia won On his imperial throne," how did old Timotheus, by his bewitch- as ❝ With one rude clash he struck the lyre, justice, we only regret that Milton did "How He who bore in Heaven the second name," Oppressed by power, and mocked by pride, "The Lord himself now forming them With passions wild and strong, And listening to their witching voice Would often lead them wrong." And would He, who in stern justice had deemed it right for the mere eating of an apple to punish the whole human race, feel the smallest reluctance in condemning individuals for their own unforgiven transgressions, for whom, on the same principle, before they could be saved, it would be necessary to " crucify the Lord again?" Most certainly not. What a gratifying conclusion of Satan's revenge, to think that on "That day of wrath, that dreadful day When Heaven and Earth shall pass away," the great Judge himself, according to orthodox belief, would feel constrained to "Send one to Heaven an' ten to Hell, A' for his glory! and that this novel project, this experiment in creation, of peopling Earth with residents, half-animal, half-god, who, after being schooled and trained "Per varios casus, et tot discrimina rerum," so as to secure their fidelity in the service of the King of Heaven, (and who eventually, as Milton states, were intended to be removed to Heaven, to supply the vacancy occasioned by the banishment of himself and his trusty adherents,) he would be able so far to defeat, that nine tenths of the race, instead of going to Heaven, would be legal subjects of his own to all eternity, even though the Son himself would be crucified to prevent it! and how for his sake, and for his sake only, offended Deity would be melted into Methinks I see the fallen arch-angel forgiveness, the punishment due to his standing in the Halls of his own Pandeown thoughtless transgression cancelled, monium, with his faithful chiefs around and should mankind obey his benevolent him, proudly showing how useless would instructions, and live in faith, and unity, be that "sacrifice for sin," which Omnipand love, the consequent forfeiture of otence deemed it necessary to exact, to Heaven entailed upon his luckless proge-recover even a moiety of the human race, ny, be removed. It must have been a joke in Hell. In the conditions lay Satan's hopes. That, the descendents of that simple pair, whom he had so easily beguiled, would be able to withstand his wiles, or choose to renounce the pomps and vanities of the world, was absurd. or induce men to subdue their angry and sinful passions-predicting the horrors of inquisitions and persecutions among the followers of Christ, for the sake of doctrines which the torturers would not understand, and for precepts which they would not follow-exhibiting the wars of Christian nations with each other for their own glorification, now the carnage of Waterloo, now the carnage of Sebastopol! Or, changing the scene, displaying in naked deformity the crimes and vices of private life, even in the most refined circles; and proving his right in reversion to many who would be recognized as ornaments of Upper Ten society, including merchant-princes and their ladies, "wearing purple aud fine linen, and faring sumptuously every day," and belles and dandies admitting no rule of life but Fashion! It is hard to say what has been his success in other worlds, but in our planet, we get half-convinced that the poet might have given Satan credit for having accomplished his object. AGRICOLA. TO MARIA LOUISA. Dear Coz., it often makes me sigh, To live so far away From the bright glances of thine eye, Which turns the night to day; I long to see the pleasant smile Upon the memory of the past, I often love to dwell, From pleasure's sunny spell; And though I see and hear thee not, That star shines ever bright, To tell me I am not forgot, And cheer me with its light; And o'er the future sends its rays, When we again shall meet, And find again as happy days, As those we once did greet. And till those happy days shall come, And peace dwell in thy breast; O'er thy life's devious way, W. H. D. Coon Hollow, Cal., Nov. 5th, 1857. MR. EDITOR: In presenting myself for |