PALESTINE. [In the spring of 1803, Reginald Heber, being then 19 years of age, wrote "Palestine." In the course of its composition, Sir Walter Scott happened to breakfast with him one morning, with his brother and one or two friends. "Palestine" became the subject of conversation, and the poem was produced and read. Sir Walter said, "You have omitted one striking circumstance in your account of the building of the temple-that no tools were used in its erection." Reginald retired from the breakfast table to a corner of the room, and before the party separated produced the beautiful lines in reference to this fact which now form a part of the poem, and which were quoted by Sir Charles Edward Grey, in a speech at Calcutta on a far different occasion, as illustrative of the manner in which he trusted the Church of Asia would arise, and in which the friend he then mourned was so admirably qualified to foster its growth. The success which attended this prize poem was unparalleled in its class. It has retained its place among the higher poetical compositions of the age, and has since been still further immortalized by the genius of Dr. Crotch, musical professor in Oxford. The effect which its recitation produced is thus recorded by an eloquent contemporary, writing at the interval of twenty-four years. "None who heard Reginald Heber recite his 'Palestine' in that magnificent theatre, will ever forget his appearance, so interesting and impressive. It was known that his old father was somewhere sitting among the crowded audience, when his universally admired son ascended the rostrum-and we have heard that the sudden thunder of applause which then arose, so shook his frame, weak and wasted by long illness, that he never recovered it, and may be said to have died of the joy dearest to a parent's heart. Reginald Heber's recitation, like that of all poets whom we have heard recite, was altogether untrammelled by the critical laws of elocution, which were not set at defiance, but either by the poet unknown or forgotten-and there was a charm in his somewhat melancholy voice, that occasionally faltered, less from a feeling of the solemnity and even grandeur of the scene, of which he was himself the conspicuous object-though that feeling did suffuse his pale, ingenuous, and animated countenancethan from the deeply felt sanctity of his subject, comprehending the most awful mysteries of God's revelations to man. As his voice grew bolder and more sonorous in the hush, the audience felt that this was not the mere display of the skill and ingenuity of a clever youth, the accidental triumph of an accomplished versifier over his compeers, in the dexterity of scholarship, which is all that can generally be truly said of such exhibitions, but that here was a poet indeed, not only of high promise, but of high achievement-one whose name was already written in the roll of the immortals-and that feeling, whatever might have been the share of the boundless enthusiasm with which the poem was listened to, attributable to the influence of the 'genius loci,' has been since sanctioned by the judg ment of the world; that has placed 'Palestine' at the very head of the poetry on divine subjects of this age. It is now incorporated for ever with the poetry of England." When Reginald Heber returned from the theatre, surrounded by his friends, with every hand stretched out to congratulate, and every voice raised to praise him, he withdrew from the circle, and his mother, who, impatient of his absence, went to look for him, found him in his room on his knees, giving thanks to God; not so much for the talents, which had on that day raised him to honour, but that those talents had enabled him to bestow unmixed happiness upon his parents. Had he possessed a mind less fortified by Christian humility, the praises which were now showered upon him might have produced dangerous effects, but the tone of his character never varied; at college and through life, though distinguished by great cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirits, he retained that sobriety of mind which had marked his childhood, and he attracted not only the admiration but the love of his contemporaries; for, besides that great superiority seems to be almost out of the reach of envy, his talents were accompanied with so much modesty and kindness, that the laurels which he wore could not be viewed with jealousy even by those whose exertions in the same race had failed of success.] REFT of thy sons, amid thy foes forlorn, No suppliant nations in thy Temple wait; Ye guardian saints! ye warrior sons of Heaven, To whose high care Judæa's state was given! If e'er your song on Salem's glories dwell, Though thy proud stones in cumbrous ruin fall, |