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LINES TO SEDGEMOOR.

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and its attendant cruelties, emotions of grief arise On such occasion we may ex

within the breast.

claim with a modern poet:

-Spirit of death,

That through the ranks of WAR dost range unseen t
O God of battles! when shall slaughter cease,
And man awake from this strange dream of life?
Will not the tears of pity and the cries

Of countless orphans, and the shrieks of death,
Relentless power! nor even the suppliant look
Of mildly beaming mercy, stay thine arm ?
It were a sight that would high heav'n rejoice,
If the proud victor, in the awful hour,
Of widely-wasting war, and with the wreath
Of glory crown'd, amid the loud acclaim
Of warlike soldiery, flush'd with crimson pride
Of conquest o'er the dying and the dead,

If haply He should cast one pitying look,

Drop his red sword, and weep the work of death!

WAR is in itself one of the greatest maladies that can afflict mankind. It is that tremendous evil which Providence employs to punish guilty nations, when inferior chastisements have failed in their operation. In its train follows a scene of horrors. Nor is any individual able to form an adequate judgment of its mischief, except he has been an eye-witness to its devastations. The late Mr. Mason (a respectable clergyman of the church of England) has furnished us with the following picture of its effects; it is DEATH personified as a warrior:

Hark! heard ye not yon footstep dread,

That shook the earth with thundering tread ;

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THE EVILS OF WAR.

'Twas Death!-in haste

The Warrior past

High tower'd his helmed head;

I mark'd his mail; I mark'd his shield;
I spied the sparkling of his spear;

I saw his giant arm the faulchion wield;

Wide wav'd his bickering blade, and fir'd the angry air!

Defensive war alone, can be justified by the dictates of reason or the precepts of Revelation. The Quakers, a respectable body of people, are of opinion, that no war will admit of vindication. They contend that their religion prohibits every species of destruction. Certain it is, that the doctrines of Christ are of a most pacific tendency; that those persons who have imbibed their spirit, are least inclined to contention; and, finally, the prophecies assure us, that when Revelation shall have attained to its full efficacy on the human race, WAR SHALL BE NO MORE! In the mean time we must lament the bloody contests with which the world is filled; nor can we help admiring Miss More's lines:

O blind to think

That cruel WAR can please the Prince of Peace

HE who erects his altar in the heart,

Abhors the sacrifice of human blood,

And all the false devotion of that zeal

Which massacres the world he died to save,

PERCY.

But I must not quit this subject without communicating to you an anecdote, related by a modern traveller-" I visited," says he, "with interest and attention, the plain where the famous

CHARACTERISTICS OF WAR.

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battle was fought between the Czar Peter the Great, and Charles of Sweden. The mound still remains that was built with the bodies of the slain! On being dug into, it exhibits an awful melange of the skeletons of men and horses, with the iron heels of boots, rusty spears, and broken weapons."

This account accords with a curious passage in the first Georgic of VIRGIL, which shews that such spectacles are not peculiar to modern times. The energy of the Roman language was never more happily displayed:

Agricola, incurvo terram molitus aratro
Exesa inveniet scabra rubigine pila,
Aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanes
Grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulchris.

The labouring peasant with the crooked share,
Turning the glebe, shall plough up jav'lins, furr'd
With eating rust; and with the pond'rous rakes
Clash against empty helmets; and admire

Big manly bones, digg'd from their open'd graves!

TRAPP.

For this digression I make no apology-an hatred of war and the love of peace, are indissolubly connected. A minister of the gospel is acting in his own proper character, when he endeavours to fling a rein over the savage passions of the human species. JESUS CHRIST laid every possible restraint on hostile dispositions. He revealed doctrines, enjoined precepts, and enforced institutions, which, were they attended to, would effectually contribute to the tranquillity of the world.

Passing on from Bridgewater towards Wells, a

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lovely prospect opened to us on the left, which might be pronounced almost unrivalled for its variety. Part of Somersetshire, the Bristol Channel studded by the two little islands called the Holmes, and in the further part of the landscape the mountains of Wales, rose to view in rich succession. The counties of Glamorgan and Monmouth were discerned in the skirts of the horizon-the latter of which, containing the place of my birth (natale solum) gave rise to pleasing sensations. I involuntarily thought of dear relatives and friends, encircled by their native hills; and enjoying the gains of their peaceful industry; the whole group of objects now engaging the attention, constituted no ordinary scene, and was contemplated by us with no common emotions. The union of land and water enters into a highly beautiful landscape -we now beheld them in perfection.

We soon reached the ancient town of Glastonbury. Here are the fine ruins of an abbey, once called the Mother of all Saints, which attract the attention of the traveller. It is pretended that the bodies of Joseph of Arimathea, of King Arthur, and of King Edward the Confessor, were buried there, for the place was distinguished in the earliest periods of our history.

Mr. Cottle (in his Epic Poem already mentioned) supposes that ALFRED brought his Queen Alswitha and his son to the abbey for safety-his approach towards it is thus described:

Now, as he paused, there to his sight appear'd
A stately pile, of which the King enquir'd;

་་

RUINS OF THE ABBEY.

It is," said Nidor, "GLASTONBURY, famed
O'er all the land, where holy Monks abide,

And where the singing is both night and day!"

COTTLE.

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Their entrance into the abbey is also picturesque ly delineated:

Following through aisles that scarce receiv'd heav'n's light, 'Mid shrines and fretted pillars, till at length

They came before the altar. Glimmering rays
From lonely tapers spread o'er all the place
A dubious light, a gloom that to the heart
Convey'd a sudden awe, and many a fear,
Doubtful and undefined!

COTTLE.

Finally; its destruction by the Danes, is thus announced to Alfred, concealed in the hut of a cottager:

-That noble pile,

Is now in ashes! all the pious Monks

Have there been murder'd! scarce one stone remains,
And fast the Danes march on and devastate,

With undistinguish'd fury!

COTTLE.

These passages pressed upon my mind, and rivetted me to the spot with a kind of incantation. It is in vain to obstruct the emotions of the heart.

At present the town is large and well-built, containing two parish churches. On a steep hill near this place, stands an ancient tower, commonly called Glastonbury Tor, commanding an extensive prospect, and serving as a land-mark for seamen. Its history is involved in obscurity. Upon the summit of this Tor the last abbot of this place was

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