278 



he obeys him. His whole soul is wrapped up in his god ; all the powers and 

 faculties of his nature are devoted to his service ; and these powers and faculties 

 are ennobled by the intercourse. Divines tell us that it ought just to be so with 

 the Christian ; but the Dog puts the Christian to shame.' The truth of these 

 remarks, which forcibly struck me at the time, have since been verified by expe- 

 rience ; and often have events occurred which, while they reminded me that ' Man 

 is the god of the Dog,' have forced from me the humiliating confession that ' the 

 Dog puts the Christian to shame.' " — p. 308. 



When the author shall have treated of the respective seasons which complete 

 the cycle of the year, he may appropriately sum up his arguments and case in the 

 words of a young, but most promising, poet : — 



" Cyril had learned to worship and obey 

 The God whose mercy gave each passing day : 

 Nature beamed forth in smiles and happy glee ; 

 All else rejoiced, and wherefore should not he ? 

 Earth was his temple, and the boundless sky, 

 Glitt'ring with gem-like stars, its canopy ; 

 His books the hills and valleys ; and his prayers 

 A hush of holy peace, as eloquent as theirs. 



" Who that hath wandered in the beauteous hour 

 When dusky twilight shares with night her power — 

 When weeping dews the thirsty valleys fill — 

 And mists are rolling down each darkened hill — 

 When birds are hushed — when toil and labour cease- 

 When heaven and earth are universal peace — 

 And, though no sound pervade the solemn air, 

 The very silence is replete with prayer ; 

 Breathing from flood, and field, and mountains rude, 

 The voiceless orisons of gratitude ; — 

 Who that hath felt this hour's deep eloquence — 

 Who that hath life's most ordinary sense — 

 Who that can move, think, feel, or understand — . 

 Can doubt the power of an Almighty Hand ? 

 Go, read the stones upon the rugged hill ; 

 Go, list the music of the singing rill ; 

 Go, learn from ocean, forest, field, and flower, 

 The infinite wisdom of Eternal Power. 

 All have their language and alike upraise, 

 In one continual round, Jehovah's praise.* 



* Cyril ; a Poem. By George Wilson, Leeds. 1835. 



