higher authority, and quite conclusive if it be deemed applicable to the case in question; this is from the fifth chapter of the first Epistle to the Thessalonians, v. 23. I pray God your whole spirit, and soul, and body be preserved blameless, &c.; and it is remarkable that both Hammond and Whitby interpret this text in the sense in which our author understands it. The sum of what Webster says upon this subject is as follows; and with which extract I shall conclude my account of this singularly ingenious and sensible work. "So that it is most evident that there are not only three essential and distinct parts in man, as the gross body, consisting of earth and water, which at death returns to the earth again; the sensitive and corporeal soul, or astral spirit, consisting of fire and air, that at death wandereth in the air, or near the body; * and the immortal and incorporeal soul that immediately returns to God who gave it: but also that after death they all three exist separately; the soul in immortality, and the body in the earth, though soon consuming; and the astral spirit that wanders in the air, and without doubt doth make these strange appositions, motions, and bleedings." Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp X 3 COMUS. P. M. ART. ART. IX. Old Poetry. [From a MS. of the Fifteenth Century.] The reconisaunce of all fleshely luste, In man, or woman, knowen by repentaunce, Who trowyng to be savid, ncdis they muste Satisfy to God thorugh Chryst; deoyng pennunce Withoute shame or drede, ther no dissimilaunce; There syn to rebuke and their goostly enomy, Settyng them asyde and trust to Godds mercy. Shoulde man hymself knowlege to God vtwardly; Ze the prince of a Reame will have reverence; Who hath ben onys lyvyng toward amendyng, And shewyng themsylf, by wey of repentaunce, Who, contrary vsyng, settys not by blesaunce, When Criest, Godd's son, suffird deth then ye. time was, Soon aftir knowe, the redempconn of mann; Remembre yt. kyndenes, see nowe what manace Of suche, except mercy, to hevyn nevir cann Come for lak of grace; myslyvyng muche was thann; More nowe vsid, yt. pyte it is to hyere, Remembre ye, dyuers plages which dooth nowe apere, O, except O, except grete mercy, mans sowle standes in fere, Help blissid lady, pray to thy soon so dere That grace nowe may come thorough thy protecconn And that the will of mann may take suche affecconn; Repent and be sory for every mysdeede, And the reward of hevyn to have for their meede. [A Song with Lullaby. From Robert Parry's "Blacke Knight."] What fortune so fell doeth foster my fall, to aggrauate my woe. Sing lullabie lullie lullabie, Sing lulla, lull, lullie. Lullabie, lullie to rest thee, sweete childe, Syth fate is so fell, we can not possesse,' Haste Atropos, haste, my twist for to waste, Thy daunger, sweete infant, makes me to mone, If so it be prest, from thy dying breast, my vitall breath shall flie. Sing, &c. ART. X. The Ruminator. Containing a series of moral, sentimental, and critical Essays. SIR, N° LXIX. Falsus honor juvat Quem nisi mendosum et mendacem ? TO THE RUMINATOR. There are, I believe, few terms more commonly used, few sounds more generally captivating, than that of honour. From the moment when our infancy ceases, to that in which old age begins to creep upon us, it is the theme of every pen, the boast of every tongue. It is the schoolboy's assertion, the lover's vow, and the peer's judicial declaration. If it be falsified, the man is deemed worthy of no farther trust; nor is even the sacred obligation of an oath supposed to he capable of binding him whom honour cannot restrain. Honour necessarily includes in it the idea of the dazzling quality of courage; and this is probably the chief reason why the imputation of falsehood cannot be washed off but by blood. For falsehood is the very reverse of courage, and always implies cowardice; inasmuch as no man can deny a fact, or assert an untruth, but from natural fear, or from a still baser motive. Hence honour is the idol of the bold and truly brave; and even those who in reality possess it not, lay claim to it for the sake of the opinion of the world. True honour, therefore, may be defined as a prin ciple which exerts itself beyond mere duty, and supplies its real or supposed deficiencies; which binds where laws do not; and which extends its sacred influence to cases in which conscience does not interfere, and religion is supposed to be silent. But the honour in common use is of a more accommodating nature; and as every man so frames it as to suit with his own particular inclinations, it is perhaps the only subject on which all agree. The man of the world and the man of God; the bigot and the infidel; the soldier and the tradesman; the highwayman and the passenger whom he plunders; the prostitute and the woman of virtue; all sound alike the praises of honour, and profess to be governed by its dictates. And so, Sir, they really are. It is no idle boast. They are all, except the truly religious man, subservient, according to their own views of it, to that vain phantom which they dignify with that splendid appellation; and which they mould into every form that may suit their various pursuits and fancies. Ask what is honour? The soldier will tell you it is bravery, and the prompt revenging every real or supposed injury; the tradesman, honesty in his dealings; the infidel, independence on the base principle of future rewards and punishments; the highwayman, fidelity towards his comrades; the prostitute, faith towards the man who is her present keeper;* the man of the world, courage sufficient to fight a duel. In him this is all that is required. Let him intrigue with the wife of I beg pardon; I mean, towards the gentleman under whose protection she lives. Vide the late proceedings in the House of Commons. his |