Of zephyr, waterfall, or birds, or bees, A thousand songs, these sweet and these sublime, All nature's intellectual harmonies, And the soft music of the stream of time. See Him in the vernal beauty of the flower, In the ripe glory of the autumnal glow, In summer's rich and radiant festal hour, In winter's fairest, purest robes of snow, There art Thou! Not in temples built by the hand Of vanity; by the unproductive toil Of the hot brow; or by the fierce command Of tyrants, or with shame-collected spoil. VOL. XVI. H Thy temple is the universe; Thy throne Raised on the stars; Thy light is every where, And every where songs to the Eternal One Are offered up; nor can the listening ear Mistake that homage which all time, all space Pours forth to Thee-what sense so dark and dull That sees not Thy bright smile on nature's face? Who Thy high Spirit, pure and beautiful, Tracks not throughout existence? All we have And all we hope for is Thy gift, and man Without Thee is a feeble, fetter'd slave, Driven by the winds of passion without plan Or purpose, or pursuit becoming.-Thou Art great, and great are all Thy works, and great Shall be Thy praise: before Thy throne we bow; To Thee our prayers, our vows we consecrate. O Thou Eternal Being! clad in light, I, in the dust, before Thy presence fall, And ask for wisdom in Thy hallowed sight To lead my steps to Thee. How calmly all Sleeps in the stillness of the Sabbath moru, As if to sanctify the sacred day: The spirit of peace, by the mild zephyrs borne, Glides gently on the tranquil morning's ray, And in a solemn pause all nature seems To feel the present Deity. He speaks In the twilight melodies,-smiles in the fair beams Which from His locks the star of morning shakes; Heaven is His canopy-His footstool earth; A thousand worlds His throne. 0 Lord! to Thee, Noblest and mightiest !-Source of light, of worth, Be praise and glory through eternity! A. Sunday Evening. Welcome the hour of calm repose, Who wak'd the morning's earliest beam. Bends sometimes from its throne of bliss; Where should we then its presence find But in an hour so blest as this An hour of calm tranquillity Descending from his seat divine, But in the heart of man, who bears My soul, and let my heart prepare And turn my wand'ring thoughts within, Then, tho' but for a moment, see Thy image; purified from sin Shed on the worthless as the just; And waking beauty out of dust. The farthest comet's path is nought To the vast orbit of His thought. To Him alike the living stream And the dull regions of the grave; All watch'd, protected all by Him Whose eye can see, whose arm can save In the cold midnight's dang'rous gloom, And the dark prison of the tomb. Thither we hasten-as the sand Drops in the hour-glass, never still; So, gather'd in by Death's rude hand The store-house of the grave we fill. And sleep in peace,-as safely kept As when on earth we smil'd or wept. What is our duty here? to tend From good to better, thence to best: Grateful to drink life's cup, then ben d Unmurmuring to our bed of rest: And so to live that when the sun May shrine our names in memory's And the blest seeds we scatter'd, bloom A hundred-fold in days to come. A. ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED SISTER IN FRANCE. The flower we rear'd was young and fair, We tended it with ceaseless care, For in our hearts 'twas planted; A thousand odours round it flew, A thousand buds upon it blew, Buds of the fairest promise too, And oh, how each enchanted! But winter's wind, and summer's show'r, Will seldom spare so fair a flow'r, And our belov'd was blighted ;- Oh, how we were delighted! TO JOHN WILKS, Esq. On Reading his admirable Address to the "Protestant Society." (Mon. Repos. XV. 366-369, 434-437, 488-496.) High-gifted WILKS, whose richly-furnish'd mind For every theme can illustrations find: Whose eloquence, a torrent clear and strong, Bears in its course, eyes, ears and hearts along! Pursue thy way-improve the talent given, And plead the cause of liberty and heaven; Secure of this, however vice prevails, That, soon or late, no honest effort fails. E. B. Sidmouth, September 11, 1820. Yet for his bride the hawk secures his nest, While gradually advanc'd from dusky prime The blended light of science most sublime, Reason and Truth from heavenly glory That bird of rapine,-in the mountain's Rais'd on devotion's lofty wing, breast; Beneath whose feet the Kennen's waters roar. O God! each glowing thought we bring, To celebrate Thy praise; To-day let care and sorrow cease, Tremendous rock! of martial forts the And the blest hopes of future peace pride, Achilles-like, the bravest of the brave; Firm to repel the battle's rushing tide, Or in thy cavern's deep recess to save. Inspire our sacred lays. Behold the happy earth rejoice, Around the world a Saviour's voice Proclaims the word of love; Within these bulwarks lovely was the The reign of vice and pain is o'er, Warfare and strife can rage no more, Now cease to haunt our way; Or Superstition's frown. Father of heaven and earth! whose eye Broods o'er the vast eternity, May Thy blest kingdom come; And the sure promise Thou hast given, Shall purify our souls for heaven, And guide our spirits home. Liverpool, August 8. A. M. OBITUARY. 1820. Aug 12, at Edgbaston, in War wickshire, Mr. THOMAS LAKIN HAWKES, younger son of the Rev. William Hawkes, formerly one of the ministers of the congregation of the New Meeting-House in Birmingham.* It was a particularly impressive circumstance that the subject of this article of Obituary survived his brother only eleven days. In many of the leading features of their characters they bore a strong resemblance to each other; both being distinguished by clearness of perception, by accuracy of taste, by a sound, discriminating judgment, by the selectness and propriety of language in which they communicated their thoughts, by an utter aversion from ostentation and parade, and by their comprehensive views of truth and duty. The mind of Mr. T. L. Hawkes was not ordinarily endowed and cultivated. Had he been destined for any of the learned professions, he would have adorned it by the qualities just enumerated. Part of his education he received at Daventry, where he entered as a lay-student, under the superintendence of the Rev. Thomas Robins: in this seminary he added to his stock of knowledge, and formed some valuable connexions; and much is it to be wished that more of the sons of Dissenting families in a certain rank of life were inmates of our colleges, § previously to their engaging in civil occupations. Mr. T. L. Hawkes's regard to religious liberty, was not the less enlightened, firm and consistent as the effect of the impressions then made upon him: while at this interesting period he became more qualified for the honourable and useful services which marked his future years, and was providing fresh resources for seasons of retirement and languor. By his habits of reading and inquiry, by his taste for general literature and science, by his exact acquaintance with the evidences of Religion, both Natural and Revealed, with its spirit and its principles, and by his happy manner of conveying instruction, he was enabled to fulfil with great success the obligations of a parent: nor will his numerous offspring cease to bless his memory, and to act upon his counsels as their rule of conduct. The loss of Mon. Repos. IV. 659. + Ib. XV. 689, &c. 1 lb. V. 308, 362, &c. § Ib. X. 286, &c. him is felt, however, far beyond the domestic circle. He was, in the best sense of the expression, a public man: and the talents, intelligence and virtues, by the fruits of which he secured the gratitude of his family and friends, he consecrated in no small degree to the benefit of society. No injuries which he suffered from any class of his neighbours, checked his ardent efforts for their welfare. In conjunction with the late Matthew Boulton, Esq., and with Dr. George Milne, he planned, in the year 1792, one of the most useful and flourishing of those charitable institutions which do so much honour to the town of Birmingham-its Dispensary Over the concerns too of the Asylum for Deaf and Dumb Children, which, a few years since, was established in the vicinity of his residence, he watched with eminent judgment and assiduity. He has left a vacancy that will not easily be supplied. In the mean time, to his survivors belong the consolations afforded by fond remembrance, and by hopes more animating and stable than any which have their basis and their termination in this infancy of our being. SIR, Permit me, in your interesting Obituary, to record a few particulars respecting my late highly esteemed friend, and your valuable correspondent, the Rev. THOMAS HOWE, whose death was briefly announced in your last Number [XV. 682]. This melancholy event took place on Wednesday the 15th of November. He had for several months been afflicted with shortness of breath and occasional spasms, supposed to be the effect of water in the chest, and which had been repeatedly relieved by medical assistance. Though fully apprized of the alarming nature of his disease, he uniformly preserved his wonted serenity and cheerfulness, and was not interrupted more than one Sabbath in the discharge of his ministerial duties. During the two last weeks, he had had no return of the paroxisms, and appeared remarkably comfortable. On the very day on which he died, he dined and spent the afternoon with a friend, who in the evening attended him home * His house and furniture were nearly destroyed in the Riot in 1791. and left him as well as usual, only a little fatigued with the walk. On entering the house, he sat down by the fire, but had not sat many minutes, before the servant perceived his hands fall and his head droop, as though he was asleep; but on nearer inspection found he was actually dead. The family, who happened not to be at home, were immediately summoned, and medical assistance procured, but, alas! without avail; the vital spark was extinct, and he had expired without a struggle or a groan. Thus suddenly, though not unexpectedly, has an All-wise Providence removed, in the midst of much enjoyment and usefulness, one of the most amiable and best of men. Such was he deservedly esteemed by all who knew him, particularly by the writer of this memoir, who had been intimately acquainted with him between thirty and forty years; (fourteen of which they had resided together under the same roof;) and who, in all that time, never observed any thing in his temper or deportment which was not perfectly consistent with the character of a Christian and a minister. Mr. Howe was born at Uffculme in Devonshire, about the year 1759, of respectable and pious parents, who, observing his mild and serious disposition and promising talents, early devoted him to the service of the sanctuary. With this view they placed him under the instruction of the Rev. William Lamport, at that time the minister of Uffculme and afterwards of Honiton. About the age of 15, he was sent to the Dissenting Academy at Hoxton, then under the superintendence of Dr. Savage and Dr. Rees. There his amiable manners and exemplary deportment secured for him the esteem and affection of his fellow-students and his respectable tutors. On leaving that seminary, he was for a short time domestic chaplain and assistant to the Rev. Sir Harry Trelawney, who, notwithstanding the change which took place in his religious sentiments and connexions, ever retained for him and expressed towards him the highest esteem and friendship. On Sir Harry's conforming to the Established Church, Mr. Howe removed to Ringwood in Hampshire, where he resided a few years, the highly-esteemed minister of a small Presbyterian society. On the death of the Rev. Mr. Waters, in the year 1787, he received an unanimous invitation to Bridport, where, in the following year, he was ordained the pastor of that people, who, on this occasion, were favoured with the assistance of the Rev. James Manning and the Rev. Drs. Kippis and Rees. In that place he spent the remaining thirty-three years of his life, in the faithful and honourable discharge of his pastoral duties, and in the uninterrupted enjoyment of the esteem, friendship and affection of a numerous, respectable and generous society, who, as they well knew how to appreciate his worth, vied with each other in promoting his comfort and happiness. And, that he had a just claim to such distinguished regard, no one that knew him could deny. His talents were not only in themselves good, but were diligently cultivated and usefully applied. His memory was retentive and his judgment sound; his temper naturally, sweet and his feelings lively. In the friendly circle he was uniformly cheerful, communicative and instructive, and in the world, the warm, but temporate advocate of peace, truth and liberty. His religious principles, early imbibed and habitually cherished, had a powerful influence over his whole conduct. He was truly pious and devout without superstition; kind and benevolent to all; firm and zealous in what he conceived to be the truth, yet perfectly candid and liberal to those who differed from him. His theological sentiments were the result of close and impartial investigation. For several years after he left the Academy, he was a professed believer in the pre-existence of Jesus Christ, but on farther examination, in which he was greatly assisted by the writings of Dr. Priestley, he became what is commonly termed a decided Unitarian, believing not only that the Almighty Father is the only object of supreme worship, but that Jesus Christ is truly and properly a man, the most distinguished of all the prophets, and divinely commissioned and qualified to be the instructor, saviour and judge of mankind. As a Christian minister, few have more conscientiously and faithfully discharged the important duties of the pastoral office. Scrupulously careful in the improvement of time, his mornings were diligently employed in reading and composition; his evenings usually spent in friendly and pastoral visits. The Monday in each week he particularly devoted to those who by sickness had been detained from public worship. His discourses were plain, serious and scriptural, sometimes critical and doctrinal, but always highly practical, admirably adapted to the capacities and circumstances of his hearers, and delivered in an animated, agreeable and impressive manner. He might, in the best sense of the word, be called a time-server, that is, studiously availing himself of every opportunity of improving the various events and occurrences of a public or private nature for the instruction and benefit of his hearers. To the younger part of his flock he paid particular attention, not merely by occasional appropriate addresses, but also by regular |