The Christian Observer

from the observation of one of their own most distinguished preachers, to whom we shall presently refer, has been included the study of the fine arts; it being urged that these are mostly applied only to embellish pleasures, and to strengthen our natural inducements to gratify the senses at the expense of our immortal interests. That too often this is the fact, must be as readily allowed as it is deeply to be regretted. The finest powers of the imagination are not seldom employed either by means of the pen or the pencil to the excitement of mere animal feeling, and to the subordination, if not often to the entire subjugation, of those exalted purposes and resolves which ought to bear a dominant sway over the whole man. We have had repeatedly to regret the desecration of talent by our poets and painters; but we shall for the present reserve our remarks on this subject, and advert to the circumstance we began with noticing-the aversion entertained by the society of Friends, for the cultivation of the fine arts.

It would be wrong to attribute that aversion to motives of which the respectable body of whom we speak would not admit, or to any inability in their members to appreciate the excellence of the arts themselves; for, if so, we might imagine the author of the "Tableau pictoresque de la Suisse" to have furnished a description which would equally well suit the Swiss and the Quakers, when he calls the former " un peuple qui ne sent rien, qui n'imagine rien, qui ne pleure jamais, que rien n'affecte; un peuple incapable d'emotions vives, qui ne connoit jamais le delire, l'enthousiasme, de la poesie et de la peinture." We feel, however, that the disinclination we speak of has arisen from no such motives, or rather want of motives, as these. We complain not of apathy, or of an absence of what is tender and touching among the "Friends:" they can weep with

those that weep, and are susceptible of the lively emotions of joy. But there is another portrait drawn by another hand of the Swiss people, which we think would describe with greater accuracy the society in question. The Chevalier Mehegan terms them "un peuple simple, bienfaisant, ami du travail, enemi du faste." It is in these expressions we find the precise characteristics of the society of Friends. It is to these very qualities, their simplicity, their benevolence, their love of labour, their hatred of pomp, that we trace up the abandonment and the interdict of those pursuits which they have been accustomed to regard as the luxuries of the imagination and often the allies of vice.

Now, though we admit, in the main, that the objection directed against the fine arts often derives but too much weight from the conduct of their professors, we are yet by no means prepared to go with the society to the length of an indiscriminate proscription of all such pursuits. The occasional abuse of a talent does not prove its unfitness for any good purpose. We are fully persuaded that a well-regulated attention to the study of the fine arts may prove beneficial to the mind in a variety of ways, and that they are so far from being in themselves hostile to the great interests of religion, that in them religion herself may often find a powerful, because an engaging, assistant. The fierceness of animal nature is as unfavourable to the growth of religious principle as the dense darkness of natural ignorance. If elegant pursuits, then, have but the power which has been assigned them of taming the natural fierceness of men, of tending to subordinate his physical to his intellectual powers, they are surely thus far not opposed to the spirit and purposes of religion, but rather the contrary, and by no means merit the discountenance of such as desire to further the great interests of the latter. Sa

at least our author has regarded this matter. He ever writes as one

-"believing this,

That Poesy's enchanting art was given

To be on earth the source of blameless bliss, And cherish thoughts which lift the soul to heaven." p. 81.

It was long, however, before the society of Friends were able to innovate on the prejudices with which earlier habits had invested them. A singular occurrence in the annals of this community gave rise to a remarkable infraction of their rules, and admitted a most eminent individual to the cultivation of talents which had till then been placed under the ban of a rigid prohibition. We allude to the case of the late venerable President of the Royal Academy. Mr. Benjamin West was the son of Quaker parents in the state of Pennsylvania, and displayed in early life such astonishing indications of his peculiar talent, that his father, who was firmly attached to the principles of his religious communion, and knew the obnoxious character of these pursuits, became alarmed at his child's propensity, and resolved to lay the case before a public assembly of his society. It was on that occasion that the speech to which we have already referred was delivered by a man of their number, much respected for the purity and integrity of his life, and the superiority of his natural wisdom. His name was John Williamson. He was a public preacher among the Friends, and possessed an astonishing talent of convincing eloquence. He pointed to old Mr. West and his wife; and expatiated on the blameless reputation which they had long maintained and well merited. "They have," said he, "ten children, whom they have carefully brought up in the fear of God and in the Christian religion; and the youth whose lot we are now convened to consider is Benjamin,their youngest child. It is known to you all that God is pleased from time to time to bestow upon some men ex

traordinary gifts of mind, and you need not be told by how wonderful an inspiration their son has been led to cultivate the art of painting. It is true that our tenets deny the utility of that art to mankind. But God has bestowed on the youth a genius for that art, and can we believe that Omniscience bestows his gifts but for great purposes? What God has given, who shall dare to throw away? Let us not estimate Almighty Wisdom by our notions: let us not presume to arraign his judgment by our ignorance: but, in the evident propensity of the young man, be assured that we see an impulse of the Divine hand operating towards some high and beneficent end."

The biographer of Mr. West, from whom this account is taken, informs us, that the effect of this argument and the lofty commanding manner in which it was delivered, induced the assembly to agree that the artist should be allowed to indulge the predilections of his genius; and a private meeting of friends was afterwards held at Mr. West's house, where his son, who was then in his sixteenth year, received in solemn form the assent and blessing of the society. On this occasion John Williamson appears to have renewed his argument. He contended, that, although painting was sometimes put to a derogatory use, yet it might be one of those gracious gifts which God has bestowed on the world, not to add to the sensitive pleasures of man, but to facilitate his improvement as a moral and social being. The fine arts, he remarked, are called the offspring and the emblems of peace. The Christian religion itself is the doctrine of good will to man. Can those things, then, he asked, which prosper only in peace be contrary to the Christian religion?"But it is said," resumed the orator, "that they soften and emasculate the mind. In what way? Is it by withdrawing those who study them from the robust exercises which enable nations and people

to make war with success? Is it by lessening the disposition of mankind to destroy one another? Is it for such a reason as this that we, who profess to live in unison and friendship, not only among ourselves but with all the world, should object to the cultivation of those arts which disarm the natural ferocity of man? We may as well be told, that the doctrine of peace and life ought to be proscribed in the world, because it is pernicious to the prac. tice of war and slaughter, as that these arts, which call on man to exercise his intellectual powers more than his physical strength can be contrary to Christianity, and adverse to the benevolence of the Deity. I speak not of these arts as a means of amusement, nor of the study of them as pastime to fill up the vacant hours of business; though even as such the taste for them deserves to be regarded as a manifestation of Divine favour, inasmuch as they dispose the heart to kind and gentle inclinations. But I think them ordained by God for some great and holy purpose." The speaker then concluded by alluding to the remarkable qualifications of the youth, and expressing a hope that the effect of the love of these arts of peace would be to draw the ties of affection more closely, and diffuse over a wider extent of community the interests and blessings of paternal love. We have cited this curious, but pleasing, incident, because it forms a very natural introduction to the consideration of the work before us, the production of a brother "Friend," and in the sister imitative art; and also because, as Mr. West's biographer very justly observes, a more beautiful instance of liberality is not to be found in the records of any religious society. Sects, even of Christians, are disposed to regard with jealousy and hatred those of their members who embrace any pursuit which might tend to alienate them from their particular modes of discipline. The Quakers therefore, if this incident may be supposed to

speak their general sentiments, have the honour of being the first to allow, by a public act, that their conception of the religious duties of man was liable to the errors of human judgment, and was not to be maintained on the presumption of being actually according to the will of God. There is something at once simple and venerable in the humility with which they regarded their own peculiar principles, especially as contrasted with the sublime view which they appeared to take of the wisdom and providence of the Deity.

We should imagine that our readers will not be much displeased with this our long introduction of them to the author; nor our author, in being placed in the company of one, the splendor of whose talents was equalled only by their dignified and often devout application. We certainly have hailed the approach to the regions of imagination of another member of that peaceful and respectable body, on whose principles we may safely rely for such a due direction of his poetic powers, as shall "please to edification." These are regions which spirits of far different guise are known to inhabit; and some have distributed in their atmosphere a most baleful infection. We always rejoice to discover purer exhalations.

The longest and principal poem bears the name of the late Emperor of France. We at first felt some surprise at reading his name as a title to the effusions of a peaceful and Christian poet; but we soon found that our apprehensions were without cause. Of that individual, we suppose but one opinion can prevail among such as support their profession of Christian discipleship by any consistency of sentiment with the Gospel of peace. The character of a conqueror is always at best of an equivocal greatness. Rare indeed have been the instances of its union with the virtues and graces of religion. Some few exist to shew that the combination is not

impossible but when in the character of conqueror is involved that of usurper, and when, to gratify the cravings of an insatiable ambition, all rights whatever, private and public, secular and sacred, were indiscriminately violated, and the possessions and the lives of thousands sported with in all the coolness, if not of a wantonly remorseless cruelty, at least of an inflexible policy that asked no questions as to right or wrong, humane or cruel,-it is far too little to speak of such an individual with measured remonstrances. Crimes and vices like his call for the severest animadversion; and we cannot but think that Mr. Barton has allowed his gentleness in some measure to interfere with his duty in this single instance. He must, we are sure, think and feel with us, though he seems too timid to tell the world how strong are his sensations.

The poem opens with the dawn of a most lovely morning:

"All was calm,

As if Creation, thankful for repose,
In renovated beauty, breathing balm
And blessedness around, from slumber

rose."

This, of course, disposes the mind of the poet to meditation. He admires the surrounding objects (of course, also, he is an early riser) and describes with considerable beauty the features of the scene.

Like echo through the air, the cuckoo's song,

Was

heard at times, far off, the leafy woods among." p. 4.

The poet's thoughts are then very naturally led to the state of this fair world, as it came from the hands of its Creator, when all was good; and they make way for a lamentation over the "evils sin hath wrought," the aberrations from the simple line of manifested duty, which have violated the injunctions, and marred the creation, of God. Wars are then chief described as the blots among on the terrestrial scene, and are traced from the private aggressions of jealousy and envy to those larger cupidities of ambition which inflame a world. The tidings of Napoleon's death appear to have reached the ears of the poet shortly before the period of his writing this poem; and he takes occasion to delineate, though, as we have stated, too timidly, the character of that "bold bad man." This is, however, the only part of the poem which has reference to its title. The great

The heavens were mark'd by many a question which it was evidently

filmy streak,

Mr. Barton's intention to consider was the lawfulness of war. This we do not intend to discuss with him at present*. Our present business is with our author's poetry. We will, however, say, that the well known tenets of his society he has explained and enforced with some ingenuity and beauty. His description of the

Our opinions on it have been frequently, directly or incidentally, before our readers; and we refer such as are desirous of prosecuting the inquiry, to various papers in our volumes for 1803, 1804, and

1818.

2 R