Replenish with thy glory and display Of perfect majesty ;-nor let remain One of thy creatures unconvinced of thee, To raise again a carnal, sinful Age!' pp. 295-297. The strain of fervent piety which pervades these lines, will shew, that if the mantle of Cowper has not fallen upon our Poet, he has caught a portion of his spirit. As a poetical model, the Task would mislead imitation, and it has probably misled the present Writer. Cowper, in his satires, emulated with success the rough vigour of Churchill, and he improved upon his master. In the Task, he shines as a descriptive poet; and it is to descriptive poetry, that blank-verse is best adapted. Didactic verse requires the curb of rhyme, to prevent its running away with the poet. All young poets are fond of dabbling in blank verse, tempted by its apparent facility; but it is, in fact, the mode which requires the nicest ear and the most practised hand. It is susceptible of the finest modulation on the one hand, and, on the other, is liable to become the most discordant and untunable. Art. VIII. Memoir of the Rev. Pliny Fisk, A.M., late Missionary to Palestine from the American Board of Missions. By Alvan Bond, Pastor of the Congregational Church in Sturbridge, Massachusets. 12mo. pp. 400. (Portrait.) Price 5s. Edinburgh. 1828. THIS HIS is in some respects the most interesting biographical record that has been given to the public since the Memoirs of Henry Martyn, with whose name that of Pliny Fisk is well worthy of being associated in lasting remembrance. Both laboured and suffered in the same cause, the best of causes; and both, at nearly the same early period of life, were dismissed from their labours to the higher services of the heavenly world. In their characters, they had much in common. 'Decision, 'perseverance, intrepidity, judgement, modesty, patience, and ' benevolence', were traits harmoniously combined in the wellproportioned and truly consistent character of the subject of this memoir. 'As was said of Henry Martyn, "the symmetry of his stature in Christ, was as surprising as its height."' This memoir is drawn up on the plan which has become of late so popular, of interweaving the biographical narrative with copious selections from letters, diaries, and other documents; a method which certainly lessens the trouble of the biographer, VOL. II.-N.S. T and affords him the opportunity of making up a volume at the least expense of intellectual labour. It has also the apparent recommendation of giving to a memoir somewhat of the character of auto-biography; while it pays the reader the compliment of allowing him to form his own judgement of the talents and characteristics of the individual who is made to furnish this posthumous disclosure of his feelings. These circumstances may account for its very general adoption. We have, nevertheless, strong doubts whether this is the most instructive and efficient mode of writing biography. We really think that it would be far better, were the life of the individual presented to us in a distinct form, interspersed with only such brief extracts from letters or other documents, as might be necessary to illustrate or substantiate the statements in the narration; and the letters and remains to which it would form an introduction, might be given separately. They could not then, indeed, be made to furnish a text for desultory remarks and long digressions; but they would speak for themselves. The biographer would in that case incur the responsibility, it is true, of making a competent use of his materials; and this would require a careful examination of documents, and an effort at analysis and compression; whereas the present receipt for memoir-writing admits of a volume being made up with facility by any man, woman, or, we were going to say, child. But really, religious biography is too important a task to be carelessly or incompetently performed. The portrait of such a man as Fisk, demanded a vigorous pencil. The interest of the present volume is not much diminished by the slovenly manner in which it is edited, as it consists almost entirely of a compilation from Mr. Fisk's papers. The value of these would, however, have been greatly enhanced by a few judicious notes and some retrenchments. For instance, Mr. Fisk, in one of his letters (p. 191), starts some Biblical inquiries, new to himself, but which have received a full discussion in the pages of Biblical scholars. These ought not to have been suffered to appear without the appropriate solutions. At Jerusalem, Mr. Fisk visited the holy sepulchre, and was induced to believe, that the spot desecrated by the Romish jugglery and mummery, is in all probability the place where our Lord lay. A want of information could alone have led him to pay any attention to Chateaubriand's authority on such a subject. There is the clearest evidence, that Calvary could not have been near that spot. Indeed, the topographical notices which occupy much of the journal, are so scanty, and sometimes so incorrect, that they should either have been accompanied with notes by the Editor, or suppressed. Many of the blunders are evidently typographical. The communications of a Christian missionary are al ways highly interesting at the time of receiving them; but their permanent value consists in the light they throw upon the field of missionary enterprise; and they can be made subservient to this end, only so far as they afford original information or convey the matured results of experience. We are almost ready to envy, however, the simplicity of feeling and ardent piety expressed in the following letter, notwithstanding the almost Romish easiness of faith which it betrays. "I have now spent four days in the city where David lived and reigned, and where David's Lord and King redeemed the world. The house I inhabit, stands on mount Calvary. My little room has but one small window, and this opens towards mount Olivet. I have walked around Zion. I have walked over Calvary. I have passed through the valley of Hinnom, drunk of the waters of Siloam, crossed the brook Cedron, and have been in the garden of Gethsemane. The next day after my arrival, I made my first visit to the tomb of my Lord. I did not stop to inquire, whether the place pointed out as his sepulchre, is really such or not. If in this there is any delusion, I was willing to be deceived for the moment. The church was full of people, but, though surrounded by them, I could not suppress my feelings. I looked at the dome which covers the tomb, and thought of the death and resurrection of my Lord, and burst into tears. I entered and kneeled by the marble which is supposed to cover the spot where the body lay. My tears flowed freely, and my soul seemed to be moved in a way I cannot describe. I dedicated myself anew to my Lord, and then offered up my prayers for my father, brothers, sisters, and particular friends. "I implored a blessing on Andover, and on all missionaries, and ministers, and on all the world. It seemed then as if Jesus Christ the Son of God had really suffered, died, and risen from the dead. The period of time that has elapsed since his death, dwindled as it were to a moment. The whole seemed present and real. O what sufferings! what love! Dear brethren, it was for us he died. Shall we not then live to him? He died to save us from sin. Shall we not then avoid sin in all its forms? He died to save us. Can we then be unwilling to make efforts and undergo privations to save others? If you think I have made any sacrifices, or undergone any hardships, I assure you I forgot them all when in the church of the Holy Sepulchre. But alas! how little do I see around me of the efficacy of that blood which was shed on the cross. The Christian pilgrim cannot enter the building that covers the tomb of his Redeemer without buying permission from the enemies of his faith. I suppose at least three-fourths of the inhabitants of Jerusalem deny the divinity of our Lord, and the atoning efficacy of his death, and I fear all or nearly all the rest adore his mother and his disciples with almost as much apparent devotion as himself. When I was at Gethsemane there were so many armed Turks about that place, that I did not think it prudent to stop, but only walked across the field, Where once thy churches prayed and sang, Topographical information, however, it made no part of Mr. Fisk's object to collect, and we find fault only with the indiscreet publication of his imperfect notes. For, after all, it is not the detail of what such a man saw, and of the places that he visited, that we wish for: such pleasant traveller's gossip is quite out of place in a volume that ought to be occupied with the instructive memorial of all that was heroic in his conduct, lovely in his character, animating in his example, or instructive in his experience. These remarks, it may be said, will apply to many volumes besides that which has elicited them: we mean them to have a very general reference. They are not uncalled for. The following extract from one of Mr. Fisk's letters, deserves consideration. He is speaking of the embarrassments under which the American Board of Missions at that time laboured for want of funds. "For missionaries themselves to speak on the subject of contributions for their own support, is a delicate thing. I have more than once resolved never to mention the subject in my communications to you or others. If I know myself, I would never do it for my own support or comfort. I would sooner, in case the provision now made for my support should fail, devote one half my time to labour, and thus support myself. But when I read the journals of our brethren in other missions; and when I look at Smyrna and Armenia, and then see how difficult, how next to impossible it is, for the Board to send additional labourers into any of these fields, though there are young men ready to go, who ask for nothing but their food and clothing, I cannot but wish that I were able to say something which would rouse Christians to greater liberality. When a tabernacle was to be built, the people of Israel, of every condition, age, and sex, came forward voluntarily with their offerings, till the priests were obliged to say,Stop! There is enough and too much. When a temple was to be built, David offered willingly gold to the value of eighteen or twenty millions sterling, beside a large amount of silver and other things, and his chief men then offered a much larger amount; and David's prayer shows that, instead of feeling any reluctance, he offered all this from choice, and felt unworthy of the privilege of doing it. Thanks be to God for the grace bestowed on his people, there are, in the present day, many bright examples of cheerful liberality. But, alas! how often is the opposite true! What reluctance! What frivolous excuses! What absurd and ridiculous objections! I have been an agent for the missionary cause, and shall never cease to remember, with gratitude, the kind encouragement, the cordial approbation, and the cheerful contributions of a few, in many places which I had occasion to visit. But the coldness, the shyness, the studied neglect, the suspicion, the prejudice, which the simple name of missionary agent produced in the minds of many who profess to be Christians, to have their treasure in heaven, to prize the Gospel above all other things, and to pity the perishing heathen,-cannot easily be forgotten. A missionary ought unquestionably to labour contentedly, and be grateful for whatever support the churches may afford him; and, I am sure, if the donors could know with what emotions missionaries sometimes read over the monthly lists of contributions, they would not think them altogether ungrateful. But, is it a duty, is it right, while so many are living at home in ease and affluence, that missionaries should bring themselves to an early grave, by cares and labours, which might be relieved by a little pecuniary assistance? I know not how it may seem to others; but, knowing as I now do the various expenses to which a missionary is constantly subjected, it seems to me hardly possible, that the sum you allow should appear too great. The sum which we receive, is a mere pittance, compared with what other travellers, who come into this part of the world, expend. It is, in fact, small when compared with what the episcopal missionaries in these parts receive. You merely defray the expenses of your missionaries, and those kept down by the most rigid economy; and yet there are generally several waiting, who cannot be sent abroad, for want of money." pp. 165, 6. In this country, at the present moment, we fear the want of money is not more urgent than the want of suitable agents. Mr. Fisk was born at Shelburne, U.S., June 24, 1792. In 1811, he was admitted to Middlebury College, Vermont; he completed his professional studies in the theological seminary at Andover. In 1819, he bade an adieu to his native shores, and sailed for the scene of his missionary labours under the auspices of the American Board. He arrived at Smyrna in Jan. 1820, and spent the greater part of the next six years in different parts of Syria and Egypt. The following letter, dated Beyroot, Oct. 20, 1825, was written to his fellow labourer, the Rev. Jonas King, a few days before his death. 'My beloved brother King, Little did we think, when we parted, that the first, or nearly the first, intelligence concerning me, would be the news of my death. Yet, at present, this is likely to be the case. I write you as from my dying bed. The Saviour whom I have so imperfectly served, I trust, now grants me his aid; and to his faithful care I commit my immortal spirit. May your life be prolonged and be made abundantly useful. Live a life of prayer. Let your conversation be in heaven. Labour abundantly for Christ. Whatever treatment you meet with, whatever difficulties you encounter, whatever vexations fall to your lot, and from whatever source, possess your soul in patience; yea, let patience have her perfect work. I think of you now in my dying moments, and remember many happy hours we have spent together. And I die in the glorious hope of meeting you where we shall be freed from all sin. Till that happy meeting, dear brother, farewell! P. FISK.' |