But, Jesus! in that mortal fray, When soon or late, this feeble breath No more to thee shall pray, Support me through the vale of death, And in the darksome way! When cloth'd in fleshly weeds again I wait Thy dread decree, Judge of the world! bethink Thee then That Thou hast died for me. The Pelican Isle of Mr. Montgomery is a Poem in nine cantos, describing, in very harmonious blank verse, the gradual formation of a coral island-its becoming covered with plants-inhabited by birds, and, at last, tenanted by man. The events of some thousands of years are supposed to be related by an imaginary being, existing during the whole period, and speaking in the first person;-a supposition which throws an air of incredibility over the whole production, and very much diminishes its effect. The poem contains many fine passages; though we cannot assent to the judgment of a contemporary, and maintain that, "had this been Mr. M.'s only production, it would have rewarded him with a fadeless laurel." The following may be considered as fair specimens. "Life is the transmigration of a soul Through various bodies, various states of being; New manners, passions, tastes, pursuits in each; In nothing, save in consciousness, the What he is now, but cannot long con tinue, And what he must be through uncounted ages. -The Child; we know no more of happy childhood, Than happy childhood knows of wretched eld; And all our dreams of its felicity Are incoherent as its own crude visions : We but begin to live from that fine point Which memory dwells on, with the morning-star, The earliest note we heard the cuckoo sing, Or the first daisy that we ever pluck'd, When thoughts themselves were stars, and birds, and flowers, Pure brilliance, simplest music, wild perfume. Thenceforward, mark the metamorphoses! -The Boy, the Girl;-when all was joy, hope, promise; Yet who would be a Boy, a Girl again, To bear the yoke, to long for liberty, And dream of what will never come to pass ? -The Youth, the Maiden ;-living but for love, Yet learning soon that life hath other cares, And joys less rapturous, but more enduring : -The Woman ;-in her offspring multiplied; A tree of life, whose glory is her branches, Beneath whose shadow, she (both root and stem) Delights to dwell in meek obscurity, That they may be the pleasure of beholders: -The Man ;-as father of a progeny, Whose birth requires his death to make them room, Yet in whose lives he feels his resurrection, And grows immortal in his children's children: -Then the gray Elder ;-leaning on his staff, And bow'd beneath a weight of years, that steal Then calls the worms, and bids them do their office : -Man giveth up the ghost,—and where is He?" The Poem closes as follows Here end my song; here ended not the vision: I heard seven thunders uttering their voices, And wrote what they did utter; but 'tis seal'd Within the volume of my heart, where thoughts, Unbodied yet in vocal words, await The quickening warmth of poesy, to bring Their forms to light,-like secret characters, Invisible till open'd to the fire; Or like the potter's paintings, colourless Till they have pass'd to glory through the flames. Changes more wonderful than those gone by, More beautiful, transporting, and sublime, To all the frail affections of our nature, To all the immortal faculties of man; Such changes did I witness; not alone In one poor Pelican Island, nor on one Barbarian continent, where man himself Could scarcely soar above the Pelican: -The world as it hath been in ages past, The world as now it is, the world to come, Far as the eye of prophecy can pierce;These I beheld, and still in memory's rolls They have their pages and their pictures; these, Another day, a nobler song may shew. -Lost in infinitude, my atom-life Seems but a sparkle of the smallest star Amidst the scintillations of ten thousand Twinkling incessantly; no ray returning To shine a second moment, where it shone Once, and no more for ever :-so I pass. The world grows darker, lonelier, and more silent, As I go down into the vale of years; For the grave's shadows lengthen in advance, And the grave's loneliness appals my spirit, And the grave's silence sinks into my heart, Till I forget existence in the thought To deathless resurrection. Heaven and earth Shall pass away, but that which thinks within me Must think for ever; that which feels must feel: -I am, and I can never cease to be. O thou that readest! take this parable Home to thy bosom; think as I have thought, And feel as I have felt, through all the changes, Which Time, Life, Death, the world's great actors, wrought, While centuries swept like morning dreams before me, And thou shalt find this moral to my song: -Thou art, and thou canst never cease to be: What then are time, life, death, the world to thee? I may not answer; ask eternity. To the larger Poem are annexed several smaller productions. In these Mr. M. especially excels. His longer poems have generally appeared to us tame and heavy; but his shorter productions evince a depth of feeling, and a vigour of imagination, which place their author high in the rank of modern poets. We have only room for one more extract from the present volume, and with this we must take our leave of the Author. I spied him, where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength was gone; The heedless water mock'd his thirst, Dipt, and return'd it running o'er; 'Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof; I heard his voice abroad, and flew In Eden's garden while I dream'd. Stript, wounded, beaten, nigh to death, Revived his spirit, and supplied In prison I saw him next, condemn'd scorn: My friendship's utmost zeal to try, Then in a moment to my view, DEC. 1827. The tokens in his hands I knew, "Of me thou hast not been ashamed: These deeds shall thy memorial be; Fear not, thou didst them unto Me." Compendio della vita del beato Angelo d'Acri, Missionario Cupuccino, della Provincia di Cosenza. Roma, мDCCCXXV. Presso Bernardino Olivieri. Con licenza. Or, Abridgment of the Life af the Blessed Angelo of Acri, a Capuchin Missionary, of the Province of Cosenza. Rome, 1825. WE have been favoured with the perusal of this choice morsel, purchased at Rome, on the canonization of Father Angelo, which took place at St. Peter's, on Sunday, Dec. 18, 1825, the Pope himself, and several of the Cardinals, officiating at the ceremony. As we apprehend this is if not the last, yet one of the last saints, regularly canonized, and, of course, devoutly reverenced by the Romish Church, we shall favour our readers with somewhat copious extracts from the compendium before us, which is declared to be published con licenza, and bears the imprimatur of sundry official characters, who must, of course, be regarded as attesting its authority. CHAP. 1.-Birth and Childhood of the Blessed Angelo. The Blessed Angelo was born at Acri, in Calabria, in the kingdom of Naples, Oct. 19, 1669, and at his baptism received the name of Lucantonio. His parents, Francesco Falcone and Diana Enrico, were rich in virtue, but not in the perishable treasures of the world. At the age of five years, he received the sacrament of Confirmation. Even from this period, he gave indications of that holiness to which, by a co-operation with the Spirit of Grace, he was destined to attain; being distinguished by the strictest obedience to every command of his parents. He was wholly estranged from infantine amusements, and made 3 R it his delight to place himself on his knees before a sacred image of the Most Holy Mother of God, affixed to a wall of the house, offering himself to it with simplicity, and benefit, according to his age; and, for the sake of undergoing some suffering in the body, whilst in prayer, he was in the habit of putting under his knees grains of corn and similar things. With how much satisfaction the great Mother of mercy received this devout worship, was evidenced by the rays of pure light shed abroad upon him, and which so entirely took possession of the holy child, that he knew not how to disengage himself from her presence. His childhood passed, he was instructed by the Father Antonio, of Olivadi, a Capuchin, in those duties which it behoved him to cultivate, for the preserving himself in his innocence, till now unspotted as when he had risen from his general confession. Amongst other instructions, Antonio taught him how requisite it was to meditate, daily, upon the Passion of the Redeemer, and to present himself frequently at Confession, and at the Holy Communion. Our blessed Man so acted upon these instructions, that he was at times in the habit of spending from two to three hours in the contemplation of the sufferings of the Saviour: upon every festival he confessed himself, and communicated with all possible devotion, and to the edification of all the people. It was his custom to restrict himself to bread and water upon all the vigils of the Most Holy Mary, whilst he continued still in the world; and to this he adhered during the remainder of his life, adding to it various other acts of severity. Happy the Man, who, even from his youth, betook himself to prayer, and to penitence! 2. Having attained the age of eighteen years, the blessed man felt himself inwardly called of God to enter the Order of the Capuchins. He began by frequenting a neighbouring convent, in order to become acquainted with the usages observed, as a preparatory step to embracing its ordinances. He was wont to pass some hours every day in the church of the Capuchins, and whenever he was unable to observe this by day, he did it at night, before the door of the church. After some time he was received into the Order, and sent to his Novitiate. But a short time had elapsed, when, giving way to the suggestions of Satan, he returned into the world; but not finding his mind at peace, he once more obtained permission to betake himself to his Novitiate, from whence, as before, he again withdrew, and returned to the spot of his nativity; there he was received with kindness by his uncle, a priest, who was desirous that he should marry; but to this he would not for a moment listen. His own want of firmness, in twice abandoning his religious habit, proved to him a sensible mortification, and served to render him conscious of his own weakness, producing in him a deep self-humiliation, and teaching him to expect from God alone, that strength, which he looked in vain for in himself. For the third time he was admitted to the Novitiate, by the name of Brother Angelo. The Devil, who had twice overcome him, now assailed him with greater violence than ever, by various temptations. He struggled with the enemy by prayer, by fasting, and other mortifications; but the evil spirit yielded not, nay rather constantly increased his attacks. Perceiving himself one day upon the point of being overcome, he presented himself before the crucifix, and exclaimed, 'Oh, Lord! I can no more; do thou grant me assistance.' Having thus said, he heard a voice from the crucifix pronounce, 'Do that which Brother Bernardo of Corleone, the Capuchin, (now blessed) did.' He communicated to the Master, a man of intelligence, what he had heard, who presented him with the life of Brother Bernardo; and he there discovered, that every morning, at break of day, he was in the habit of scourging himself, to overcome similar temptations. He forthwith began to imitate him, and in the end proved victorious over the enemy; and he never afterwards permitted himself to discontinue a similar method of correction, during the remainder of his life. 3. His solemn profession accomplished, he applied himself to the attainment of the abstruser sciences, in the which he made considerable progress but that to which he betook himself with the greatest ardour, was the cultivation of a knowledge of the saints. He was most scrupulous in observing all the duties usual with his religious Brotherhood, to whom he was serviceable in edification, and by his example. But he did not rest satisfied with these alone; for every moment that was left to him, after the exercise of these general duties, he devoted to the contemplation of heavenly objects. Three times, in the course of the week, he was accustomed to scourge himself even to blood, in addition to the discipline that he practised at break of day, and this he continued to the close of his life. He was accustomed, between his garment and his skin, to place small parcels of nettles and other stinging weeds, thus to torment the body, as well by day as night. At times he went so far as to roll himself amongst prickly bushes, with the view to create suffering, and thus to bring the flesh more and more into subjection to the Spirit. Every Friday, it was his custom to place in his mouth either a small morsel of aloes, or some gall, in memory of the vinegar and gall given to our Lord upon Calvary. This custom also he adhered to till his death. : In due time he was ordained Priest, after having prepared himself for the office by a continued course in all the most estimable virtues and in the celebration of the first mass, he shed a profusion of tears; and, after the consecration, remained for a considerable time deprived of his senses, in a sweet and profound ecstacy. Upon this occasion the mass was considerably shortened, from his remaining in ecstacy after the consecration. His fervour went on from day to day continually increasing, through the love of God diffused into his heart. Retirement, meditation, prayer, selfdenial, penitence, were his delight. The chapel and his cell were his abiding places. He never went out, not even into the garden; nor did he ever present himself at the window of the convent, unless required, as an act of obedience, or some similar necessity. 4. Having terminated his course of studies, the Superiors selected him as one of their Preachers. He commenced his ministry with fervour and zeal; but he perceived that some superior power prevented him from going through the whole of his discourse, though his memory was by no means defective. He knew not how to comprehend this dispensation of the Lord exercised towards him. Lent being terminated, he retired into the convent, and gave himself up to prayer with all fervour, beseeching the Almighty to reveal to him his gracious will upon the subject of his holy preaching. He continued to pray with humility and fervour, from thence to discover the will of the Lord; and whilst in prayer, on one occasion, he heard addressed to him these words: Fear not; I will give to thee the gift of preaching, and henceforth thy labours shall be blessed.' Half amazed, and in a suppliant tone, our Blessed Man asked-Who art thou?' when, behold, the room was shaken, as if by the force of an earthquake, and he heard this answer—' I am that I am thou shalt preach henceforward with a fluency of style, so that all shall be enabled to comprehend thy discourse.' Overpowered with holy awe, he fell upon the floor insensible. As soon as he came to himself, he committed the words to writing; and ever afterwards, when in the act of pronouncing them, he trembled from head to foot; and the same effect was produced upon him, if they were spoken by any other person. He remained enlightened, so as clearly "to understand the nature of the obstruction he had experienced in delivering his discourses, in the past Lent, and, conforming himself to the Divine will, he forthwith abandoned his own MSS. and various other books, and commenced the study of the sacred scriptures, and the valuable book of the Cross. These were the sources from whence he drew, during the course of his long ministry, the doctrines he propounded to the people, and all else that he taught for the benefit of immortal souls. He was wont to expound, with such wisdom and depth of learning, the passages of the holy scriptures, that the most learned men were overcome with admiration, and exclaimed, that from God himself had he learnt the method of penetrating into the most secret things of his divine word. From what has been said, all will perceive that God had destined, and sent forth our Blessed Man, as his peculiar apostle, if not to the world at large, at least throughout the provinces of Calabria, where for the space of 38 years or thereabouts, he exercised the apostolic ministry, waging war against the spirit of darkness, by means of the conversion of sinners to their God. That spirit indeed was not backward in defending himself from such an enemy, summoning to his aid all possible acts of inalevolence, in order to dissuade the Blessed Man from the sacred ministry; but he did not succeed. The evil spirits were leagued together to torment him in the body, beating him cruelly even to the frac |