"But to count my work unfinished, till I sweep them from the world:
Stand and see the thing ye sued for, by this hand to ruin hurled."
High he reared his battle-axe, and heavily came down the blow:
Reeled the abominable image, broken, bursten, to and fro;
From its shattered side revealing pearls and diamonds, showers of gold;
More than all that proffered ransom, more than all a hundred fold.
Thou too. Heaven's commissioned warrior to cast down each idol throne
In thy heart's profaned temple, make this faithful deed thine own.
Still they plead, and still they promise, wilt thou suffer them to stand,
They have pleasures, they have treasures, to enrich thee at command.
Heed not thou, but boldly strike them ;let descend the faithful blow;
From their wrecks and from their ruin first will thy true riches flow.
Thou shalt lose thy life and find it ; thou shalt boldly cast it forth;
And then back again receiving, know it in its endless worth.
Professor Trench excels in this species of didactic symbolism, which indeed is characteristic of all his writings, prose and verse—be it lecture or lyric, sermon or song.
His collection of "Sacred Latin Poetry" is tasteful and comprehensive—though it omits the thrilling Stabat Mater, and certian other rhymed Latin hymns which are, rightly or wrongly, objectionable to Protestant students of hymnology. Some of these can, however, be as ill-spared in such a collection as the lovely Consolator optime, or the sublime Dies iræ. But this little volume is too rich with sweet concords to allow of critical discords, harsh and grating, and not of ample power to subdue its attraction.
Of Professor Trench*s theological writings this is not the place to speak, except en passant. His Hulsean Lectures, and his Notes on the Miracles and on the Parables of the New Testament, are held in high esteem within and without the pale of his own Church. He belongs to the Coleridgean school of divines, if such a description is allowable in reference to a group of pastors and teachers representing somewhat diverse as well as divers opinions— comprehending an Arnold and a Hare, Kingsley and Maurice, Derwent Coleridge and Arthur Stanley. His every work is pervaded by true earnestness, instinct with spiritual thought, and animated by a refined, chastened, effective eloquence. His weak side is a rather crotchety fancy and love of analogy.
"The Study of Words" is a right winning little volume, designed to awaken attention to the riches that lurk in language. It is marked by extensive reading and a genial spirit of investigation; but its chiefest value lies in its suggestiveness—its provocative, stimulant, "educational" tone. Perhaps it is a little open to objection on the side of its frequently sermonising, and Sunday didactic manner; sometimes haling in rather irrelevant matter, and verging on a disposition to prose in the way of "practical inferences from this subject." This is explicable, by the fact that the book consists of a series of lectures delivered before the pupils of a diocesan training school; and although we could have wished to see them printed in a revised form, others may (indeed others do) find an additional value in the characteristic to which we have taken exception. So let that pass. The book is a jewel of a book—not spoilt in the setting. Its subject, what has been called "fossil poetry." For, says Emerson, "as
