Ah! all that hid the vast and various scene170Slowly withdraws, like morning mist. I seeRegions, in light and shade, beyond the isles,Delos and Mycone, mountains and capesUnfolding, through the mist, as if they stoodBeneath our feet. There, bays, and gulfs, and plains,And wandering streams appear; and o'er them, highUpon a hill, in the pale atmosphere,A temple vast, as of some god renownedIn pagan lands.
Ah! all that hid the vast and various scene170Slowly withdraws, like morning mist. I seeRegions, in light and shade, beyond the isles,Delos and Mycone, mountains and capesUnfolding, through the mist, as if they stoodBeneath our feet. There, bays, and gulfs, and plains,And wandering streams appear; and o'er them, highUpon a hill, in the pale atmosphere,A temple vast, as of some god renownedIn pagan lands.
STRANGER.
Thou seest the shores of Greece,180And that the illustrious city, so renowned,Athens; upon that hill, the hill of Mars,Paul stood, when, pointing to the skies above,He spoke of fanes "not made with hands;" of God,Who liveth in the heaven. What seest thou more?
Thou seest the shores of Greece,180And that the illustrious city, so renowned,Athens; upon that hill, the hill of Mars,Paul stood, when, pointing to the skies above,He spoke of fanes "not made with hands;" of God,Who liveth in the heaven. What seest thou more?
JOHN.
Another land, stretched, like a giant's arm,Across the deep, with seas on either side.There, on seven hills, I see a city, crownedWith glittering domes; the nether champagne spreadWith aqueducts, and columns, arches, and towers.190
Another land, stretched, like a giant's arm,Across the deep, with seas on either side.There, on seven hills, I see a city, crownedWith glittering domes; the nether champagne spreadWith aqueducts, and columns, arches, and towers.190
STRANGER.
It is the Imperial Mistress of the World,Rome—Rome—now pagan; but a power unknownShall rise, and, throned on those seven hills—193When Cæsars moulder with their palaces,Shall hold dominion o'er the prostrate world,Not by their glittering legions, but the powerOf cowled Superstition, that shall keepKingdoms and kings in thrall; till, with a shout,A brighter angel, from the heaven of heavens,As ampler knowledge shoots her glorious beams,200Shall open the Lamb's book again, and night,Beckoning her dismal shadows, and dark birds,Fly hooting from the dayspring of that dawn.[179]Burns not thy heart to think upon those days!But long and dire shall be the tale of blood;Let it be hid for ever! Look again:
It is the Imperial Mistress of the World,Rome—Rome—now pagan; but a power unknownShall rise, and, throned on those seven hills—193When Cæsars moulder with their palaces,Shall hold dominion o'er the prostrate world,Not by their glittering legions, but the powerOf cowled Superstition, that shall keepKingdoms and kings in thrall; till, with a shout,A brighter angel, from the heaven of heavens,As ampler knowledge shoots her glorious beams,200Shall open the Lamb's book again, and night,Beckoning her dismal shadows, and dark birds,Fly hooting from the dayspring of that dawn.[179]Burns not thy heart to think upon those days!But long and dire shall be the tale of blood;Let it be hid for ever! Look again:
JOHN.
I see the pillars and the rocky boundsThat gird this inland sea.
I see the pillars and the rocky boundsThat gird this inland sea.
STRANGER.
What seest thou more?
What seest thou more?
JOHN.
I see a ship burst through the narrow frith210Into the sea of darkness and of storms,There lost in boundless solitudes. Oh! no,There is an island; with its chalky cliffs,Beauteous it rises from the billowy waste.
I see a ship burst through the narrow frith210Into the sea of darkness and of storms,There lost in boundless solitudes. Oh! no,There is an island; with its chalky cliffs,Beauteous it rises from the billowy waste.
STRANGER.
Thither that ship is bound: nor storms, nor seas,Rocking in more terrific amplitude,Impede its course. Long years shall roll away,217And when deep night shall wrap again the shores,Of Asia; where the "golden candlestick"Now gleams, illumining the pagan world;And where a few poor Christian fishermenShall here and there be found; even where thy ChurchOf Ephesus stood in the light of heaven,From that far isle, amid the desert waves,Back, like the morning on the darkened east,To lands long hid, in ocean-depths unknown,The radiance of the gospel shall go forth,And the Cross float triumphant o'er the world.
Thither that ship is bound: nor storms, nor seas,Rocking in more terrific amplitude,Impede its course. Long years shall roll away,217And when deep night shall wrap again the shores,Of Asia; where the "golden candlestick"Now gleams, illumining the pagan world;And where a few poor Christian fishermenShall here and there be found; even where thy ChurchOf Ephesus stood in the light of heaven,From that far isle, amid the desert waves,Back, like the morning on the darkened east,To lands long hid, in ocean-depths unknown,The radiance of the gospel shall go forth,And the Cross float triumphant o'er the world.
JOHN.
Even now, in vision rapt of days to come,I see her Christian temples, pale in air,230Above the smoke of cities; o'er the deepI see her fleets, innumerable, spread,Chequering, like shadows, the remotest main;And, lo! a river, winding in the light,Silent, amid a vast metropolis,Beneath the spires, and towers, and glittering domes!Ah! they are vanished, and a sudden cloudHides, from the straining sight, temple, and tower,And battlement.
Even now, in vision rapt of days to come,I see her Christian temples, pale in air,230Above the smoke of cities; o'er the deepI see her fleets, innumerable, spread,Chequering, like shadows, the remotest main;And, lo! a river, winding in the light,Silent, amid a vast metropolis,Beneath the spires, and towers, and glittering domes!Ah! they are vanished, and a sudden cloudHides, from the straining sight, temple, and tower,And battlement.
STRANGER.
Pray that it pass away.240
Pray that it pass away.240
JOHN.
Ah! the pale horse and rider! the pale horseIs there! silence is in the streets! The arkOf her majestic polity, the Church—The temple of the Lord—I see no more!
Ah! the pale horse and rider! the pale horseIs there! silence is in the streets! The arkOf her majestic polity, the Church—The temple of the Lord—I see no more!
STRANGER.
Pray that her faith preserve her: the event245Is in His hands who bade his angels soundTheir trumps, or pour the avenging vials out.Let us descend, the wind is fresh and fair,Direct from the north-east, let us descend.And they descended, silently and slow,250Towards the craggy cave, and rested there,Looking upon the sunshine on the wavesOf the pale-blue Ægean, still intent,Watching the sail, that, by the western beamIllumined, held its course towards the shore.Icarian figs furnished a scant repast,With water from the rock, after their toil;While they, within the cave, conversing satOf virtue and of vice, of sin and death,Of youth and age, and pleasure's flowery path,260Leading to sorrow and untimely death.
Pray that her faith preserve her: the event245Is in His hands who bade his angels soundTheir trumps, or pour the avenging vials out.Let us descend, the wind is fresh and fair,Direct from the north-east, let us descend.And they descended, silently and slow,250Towards the craggy cave, and rested there,Looking upon the sunshine on the wavesOf the pale-blue Ægean, still intent,Watching the sail, that, by the western beamIllumined, held its course towards the shore.Icarian figs furnished a scant repast,With water from the rock, after their toil;While they, within the cave, conversing satOf virtue and of vice, of sin and death,Of youth and age, and pleasure's flowery path,260Leading to sorrow and untimely death.
Reflections—Grecian Girl and Dying Libertine—Reflections on Past History of the World—Angel's Disappearance—Ship brings the Elders of Ephesus to invite John to return—Parting from Patmos, and Last Farewell.
Reflections—Grecian Girl and Dying Libertine—Reflections on Past History of the World—Angel's Disappearance—Ship brings the Elders of Ephesus to invite John to return—Parting from Patmos, and Last Farewell.
Then the mysterious and majestic manThus spoke: Among the banished criminals,As they passed yesterday, didst thou not markA pale, emaciate youth, and by his side,Oft looking in his altered face, with tears,A beauteous Grecian female! He was one6Who crowned his hair with roses; trod the pathOf love and pleasure, till the vision fled.And left him here, an outcast criminal,Soon, without hope, to sink into the grave,And leave his young companion desolate!So ends a life of pleasure! Woe for them,The young, the gay, the guilty, who rejoiceIn life's brief sunshine, then are swept away,Forgotten as the swarms in summer time.As thus he spake, smiling amid her tears,With eyes that flashed beneath dishevelled hair,A female stood before them.Look on me,She sighed, and spake:20No! father, hear my prayer:At Corinth I was born; my mother diedWhen I was yet a very child; my sireTrafficked to Tyre, and when my mother died,He left the woods, the hills, and shores of GreeceTo seek a dwelling-place in Asia,At Tyre or Smyrna; but the tempest rose,And cast his vessel on the rocky coastOf Cyprus. I was found upon the shore,Escaped I know not how, for he was dead;30And pitying strangers bore me to the faneOf Paphian Venus.[180]There my infancyGrew up in opening beauty, like the rose,Ere summer has unfolded it; I lookedUpon the dove's blue eyes; how sorrowful,That it must die—upon the altar die;And then it seemed still dearer, and I heardIts murmuring on my bosom with a tear,38Kissing it; but a young Athenian,Whom Epicurus taught that life's sweet primeWas like the rose; for whom AnacreonSang, Let us seize the moments as they fly,And bind our brows with clusters of the vine;Roaming, in summer, the Ægean deep,Enticed me from the shrines of her I served,And led me with him (for he had a boat,Charmed by the syrens) led from isle to isle.Joyous and reckless were his youthful crew,Their hair with myrtle and with roses wreathed,Who dipped the oar, in cadence, to the sound50Of dulcimer, and tambourine, and lute,While damsels, like immortal goddesses,Their light hair gently waving to the breathOf summer, in the bloom and light of youth,Sang with accord of dulcet harmony,As if to charm the seas; and Cupid satAloft, his small right hand upon the helm,While with the left he loosed the purple sail[181]Free to the morning zephyrs. So we sailed,With music on the waters, sailed along,60And thought not of the sounds of a sad worldWe had forsaken; while the lute thus wokeThe echoes of the listening Cyclades:Go, tell that pining boy to castHis willow wreath away;For though life's spring too soon is past,Though youth's sweet roses fade too fast,They shall not fade to-day.Nay, father, frown not thus like withering care,69He who is old may yet remember hoursOf happiness like these, and will forgive;And wilt not thou, my father, wilt not thou?From Cyprus, island of the Queen of Love,We came to Naxos, and I joined the trainOf bacchanals, still singing, as we dancedUpon the mountains, to the bell and pipe,Evoe, Bacchus! Thence we sailed away,Careless, in the bright sunshine of the morn,And never thought the tempest would ariseTo cloud our happy days; but, hark! the storm80Of night is howling round us; not a starIn heaven appears, to light our wintry way;Alas! the pinnace, with its company,Was dashed upon the rocks of Attica,Where stern Minerva stood, and with her spearShivered it into fragments at her feet.Cast on the shore, again I sought the faneOf her I served in Paphos, and once moreDanced round the altars of the Queen of Love.He, scarce escaping, all his substance gone,90Joined the sea-robbers; and of late, I heard,Was banished to this isle, a criminal,Wasted by slow disease, and soon to die.My father, I have heard that thou canst callSpirits from heaven, of such strange potency,They can awake the dead, restore to lifeThe dying: oh! restore the youth I loved,And bring the rose to his pale cheek again!
Then the mysterious and majestic manThus spoke: Among the banished criminals,As they passed yesterday, didst thou not markA pale, emaciate youth, and by his side,Oft looking in his altered face, with tears,A beauteous Grecian female! He was one6Who crowned his hair with roses; trod the pathOf love and pleasure, till the vision fled.And left him here, an outcast criminal,Soon, without hope, to sink into the grave,And leave his young companion desolate!So ends a life of pleasure! Woe for them,The young, the gay, the guilty, who rejoiceIn life's brief sunshine, then are swept away,Forgotten as the swarms in summer time.As thus he spake, smiling amid her tears,With eyes that flashed beneath dishevelled hair,A female stood before them.Look on me,She sighed, and spake:20No! father, hear my prayer:At Corinth I was born; my mother diedWhen I was yet a very child; my sireTrafficked to Tyre, and when my mother died,He left the woods, the hills, and shores of GreeceTo seek a dwelling-place in Asia,At Tyre or Smyrna; but the tempest rose,And cast his vessel on the rocky coastOf Cyprus. I was found upon the shore,Escaped I know not how, for he was dead;30And pitying strangers bore me to the faneOf Paphian Venus.[180]There my infancyGrew up in opening beauty, like the rose,Ere summer has unfolded it; I lookedUpon the dove's blue eyes; how sorrowful,That it must die—upon the altar die;And then it seemed still dearer, and I heardIts murmuring on my bosom with a tear,38Kissing it; but a young Athenian,Whom Epicurus taught that life's sweet primeWas like the rose; for whom AnacreonSang, Let us seize the moments as they fly,And bind our brows with clusters of the vine;Roaming, in summer, the Ægean deep,Enticed me from the shrines of her I served,And led me with him (for he had a boat,Charmed by the syrens) led from isle to isle.Joyous and reckless were his youthful crew,Their hair with myrtle and with roses wreathed,Who dipped the oar, in cadence, to the sound50Of dulcimer, and tambourine, and lute,While damsels, like immortal goddesses,Their light hair gently waving to the breathOf summer, in the bloom and light of youth,Sang with accord of dulcet harmony,As if to charm the seas; and Cupid satAloft, his small right hand upon the helm,While with the left he loosed the purple sail[181]Free to the morning zephyrs. So we sailed,With music on the waters, sailed along,60And thought not of the sounds of a sad worldWe had forsaken; while the lute thus wokeThe echoes of the listening Cyclades:
Go, tell that pining boy to castHis willow wreath away;For though life's spring too soon is past,Though youth's sweet roses fade too fast,They shall not fade to-day.
Nay, father, frown not thus like withering care,69He who is old may yet remember hoursOf happiness like these, and will forgive;And wilt not thou, my father, wilt not thou?From Cyprus, island of the Queen of Love,We came to Naxos, and I joined the trainOf bacchanals, still singing, as we dancedUpon the mountains, to the bell and pipe,Evoe, Bacchus! Thence we sailed away,Careless, in the bright sunshine of the morn,And never thought the tempest would ariseTo cloud our happy days; but, hark! the storm80Of night is howling round us; not a starIn heaven appears, to light our wintry way;Alas! the pinnace, with its company,Was dashed upon the rocks of Attica,Where stern Minerva stood, and with her spearShivered it into fragments at her feet.Cast on the shore, again I sought the faneOf her I served in Paphos, and once moreDanced round the altars of the Queen of Love.He, scarce escaping, all his substance gone,90Joined the sea-robbers; and of late, I heard,Was banished to this isle, a criminal,Wasted by slow disease, and soon to die.My father, I have heard that thou canst callSpirits from heaven, of such strange potency,They can awake the dead, restore to lifeThe dying: oh! restore the youth I loved,And bring the rose to his pale cheek again!
JOHN.
Unhappy child! the path of pleasure leadsTo sorrow in this world, and in the next.100
Unhappy child! the path of pleasure leadsTo sorrow in this world, and in the next.100
GRECIAN GIRL.
The next! the next! My father, I have heard101That thou dost worship a new God—a GodWho has no priestess. I can dance and singLight as Euphrosyne, and I can weepFor pity, and can sigh, how tenderly!For love; and if thou wilt restore that youthTo health and love, oh! I will kneel to thee,And offer sacrifice, morning and eveTo thy great God, and weave a coronal,When I have culled the choicest flowers of Rhodes,[182]110Father, to crown those few white hairs of thine.John answered, I will pray for him and thee;But leave me, child, now leave me to those prayers.The man of loftier wisdom spoke again:How sing the thoughtless in their songs of joy,Our days of happiness, at best, are short[183]And profitless, and in the death of manThere is no remedy, for we are born,And we shall sleep hereafter in the dust,As we had never been; so all our days120Are vanity, our breath but as a smoke,A vapour, and we turn again to earth,And this high spirit vanishes in air—Into thin air; our very name shall beForgotten, and Oblivion on our worksSit silent, while our days have sped awayAs clouds that leave no trace, or as a mistDispersed and scattered by the noonday sun!Time is itself the shadow of a shade,Hurrying; and when our tale of days is told,130The tomb is sealed, and who ever rose,131To stand again beneath the light of day!Then let us crown with rosebuds, ere they fade,Our brows, and pass no blooming flower of spring!Such heartless sophistries have still deceivedEarth's poor wayfarers, they who know not God,For God created man—oh! not to dieEternally, but live, for ever live(So he be found holy, and just, and pure),The image of himself! What dost thou see?140Thine eyes are fixed, and turned on vacancy.John said, I see the dead, both great and small,Stand before God; the loud archangel's trumpHath ceased to thunder o'er the bursting graves;How deep, how dread the silence, as that bookIs opened! Ah! there is another book.
The next! the next! My father, I have heard101That thou dost worship a new God—a GodWho has no priestess. I can dance and singLight as Euphrosyne, and I can weepFor pity, and can sigh, how tenderly!For love; and if thou wilt restore that youthTo health and love, oh! I will kneel to thee,And offer sacrifice, morning and eveTo thy great God, and weave a coronal,When I have culled the choicest flowers of Rhodes,[182]110Father, to crown those few white hairs of thine.John answered, I will pray for him and thee;But leave me, child, now leave me to those prayers.The man of loftier wisdom spoke again:How sing the thoughtless in their songs of joy,Our days of happiness, at best, are short[183]And profitless, and in the death of manThere is no remedy, for we are born,And we shall sleep hereafter in the dust,As we had never been; so all our days120Are vanity, our breath but as a smoke,A vapour, and we turn again to earth,And this high spirit vanishes in air—Into thin air; our very name shall beForgotten, and Oblivion on our worksSit silent, while our days have sped awayAs clouds that leave no trace, or as a mistDispersed and scattered by the noonday sun!Time is itself the shadow of a shade,Hurrying; and when our tale of days is told,130The tomb is sealed, and who ever rose,131To stand again beneath the light of day!Then let us crown with rosebuds, ere they fade,Our brows, and pass no blooming flower of spring!Such heartless sophistries have still deceivedEarth's poor wayfarers, they who know not God,For God created man—oh! not to dieEternally, but live, for ever live(So he be found holy, and just, and pure),The image of himself! What dost thou see?140Thine eyes are fixed, and turned on vacancy.John said, I see the dead, both great and small,Stand before God; the loud archangel's trumpHath ceased to thunder o'er the bursting graves;How deep, how dread the silence, as that bookIs opened! Ah! there is another book.
STRANGER.
It is the Book of Life; the dead are judgedAccording to their works.
It is the Book of Life; the dead are judgedAccording to their works.
JOHN.
Above the throne150Interminable space of glorious lightIs spread, and angel-troops and hierarchies,With golden harps, half-seen, into the depthsOf that interminable light recede,Till the tired vision shrinks. The sea, the sea,Gives up its dead! and Death and Hell pour forth,All hushed and pale, their countless multitudes,Shivering to meet the light; and millions pray,In silence: Hide us, hide us, earth, again!A gulph, beneath them, black as tenfold night,160Glaring at times with intermittent flames,161Opens; and, hark! sad sounds, and shrieks of woe,Come through the darkness. At the dreadful voice,Depart from me, ye cursed! John, amazed,Looked 'round: he saw the blue Ægean shine,And the approaching sail white in the wind.Then he who stood by him thus spoke: Awake;Let us toward the sea, for, look! the shipApproaches nearer to the eastern bay.As near, and still more near, she speeds her course,170On this gray column, prostrate in the dust,Its tale unknown, the sole sad relic hereOf perishable glory,[184]and, who knows,Perhaps a pillar of some marble fane,Raised to dark pagan idols, let us rest,And muse upon the change of mortal things.The Apostle sat, and as he watched the sail,Leaned on his staff to hear.The stranger spoke:Lo! the last fragment of departed days,180This shaft of a fallen column; and even soShall all the monuments of human prideBe smitten to the desert dust, like thoseWho raised them, long to desert dust returned.Where are the hundred gates of regal Thebes!Let the clouds answer, and the silent sands.Where is the Tower of Babel, proudly raised,As to defy the Lord, above the clouds!He raised his arm, and, as a dream, it sank.Waters of Babylon, by thy sad shores190The children of captivity sat down,Sat down and wept, when they remembered thee,O Sion! But the trump and cornet bray;193It is Belshazzar's midnight feast! He sitsA god among his lords and concubines.A thousand torches flame aloof; the songsOf wantonness and blasphemy go up!And are those golden vessels, from the shrineAnd temple of the living God, brought forth,In impious derision? Does the hymn200Resound to Baal, and the gods of gold?And at this hour, do all the princes rise?Is the wine poured from vessels which the LordHad consecrated? Do they drink, and cry,The King shall live for ever? Ah! how changedHis countenance! he trembles, and his knees,Smite one against the other! Look, how changed!God of eternal justice, what is that?The fingers of a man, against the wall,Moving in shadow, and inscribing words210Of dreadful import, but which none may read.Call the Chaldeans and Astrologers!Are they all mute? Call the poor captive slave,Daniel, the prophet of the Lord! The crowdAll turn their looks in silence, with their breathHushed by their terrors. Has he spoken? Yes!Thy sceptre is departed! Hear, O King!He hears and trembles; and that very night,He who blasphemed is gone to meet his Judge!Proclaim the conquering Persian; it was God220Who led his armies forth, who called his nameCyrus;[185]and under him again shall riseThe temple at Jerusalem, shall riseIn beauty and in glory, till the dayOf tribulation smite it to the earth,As we have seen! Weep for Jerusalem;226But in the light of heaven, the Church of ChristShall lift its battlements, till He shall come,With all his jubilant, acclaiming hosts,Amid the clouds!The old man raised his eyes,And on his forehead placed his withered hand,A moment musing; then he turned his lookAgain to his companion at his side.Ah! he is gone; but, hark! a rustling soundIs heard, and, bright above the eastern cliffs,Behold, a glorious angel's pennons spread.Look! he ascends into the azure depthOf light; he still ascends, till the blue skyIs only interrupted by some clouds240Of lightest brede and beauty, o'er the seaTransparent hung. John gazed with hands outspread,But nothing in the airy track was seen,Save those small clouds. Then pensive he sat down,His withered hands extending as in prayer.But, lo! the vessel drops its sail; a boatIs hurrying, smooth and rapid, through the spray—The sounds of men are heard—see, they approach!Yes, they are messengers of peace! they comeWith tidings to the lonely habitant.250Two elders of the Church of EphesusGreet him with salutations from the shipWhose banner streams—the banner of the Cross—Beneath the rocks of Patmos: from the beachThe elders slow advanced, and one thus spoke:Hail, father! Cæsar is no more! Thy ChurchAt Ephesus again, by us, imploresThy presence and thy guidance; and, behold!The bark now waits to bear thee o'er the deep,For Nerva has reversed the stern decree200Passed for thy banishment: arise, return,Return; for now the light of heaven againGleams on the temple of our infant faith;The radiance of the "golden candlestick,"That shone in the deep darkness of the earth,Shall flame more bright. Arise—arise—return!John took their hands, and, blessing them, gave thanksTo God who rules above; then cried, I go—With many thronging thoughts—back to the world,To wait how Heaven may yet dispose my lot,270Till the grave close upon my pilgrimage.Yet would I stay a while, to bid farewellTo that, my cave,[186]where I have seen strange things,And heard strange voices, and have passed five yearsIn loneliness and watching, and in prayer.Let me not part till I have said farewell!Hereafter I shall tell what I have seen.But now, O Lord and Saviour! strengthen me,A poor old man, returning to the world;Oh! look and let me feel thy presence now,280Whom I have served so long I shall not seeAgain thy glorious form upon the earth,But I have lived to see thy Church arise,Now in its infancy, and gathering powerFrom day to day; and thou shalt be adoredTill the remotest isles, and every land,Shall praise and magnify thy glorious name!My days are well-nigh told, and few remain,But I shall live, protected, to record,O Lord and Saviour! all which I have seen,290High and mysterious; as I declared,In the beginning was the Word; the Word,292In the beginning, was with God; the WordWas God!And now farewell! Oh! may I passWhat yet remains of life in faith and hope,Till Christ shall call me in his mercy hence,And lead me gently to my last repose.Then may his Church, which he has raised on earth,Stand, though the tempest shake its battlements,300Stand, till the trumpet, the last trumpet sound,And He shall come in clouds who founded it!As thus he spoke, his stature seemed to growMore lofty, with a step more firm he trod;Whilst a mild radiance, lambent on his face,Shone, as the radiance from the mercy-seat.He held his way, oft looking back to markThe cave where he had lived, when, lo! the dove,So often fed from his pale hand, has leftThe cliff, and flies, faint-murmuring, round his hair.310And now he turns his eyes upon the deep;Yet scarce had reached the margin, when he sawThe sullen dwellers on these rugged shores,Led on by him who had confessed his sins—The robber of Mount Carmel, in his chains—Kneel at his feet. They blessed him, sorrowingThat they should see his face on earth no more.The stern centurion hid a starting tear;The poor emaciate youth knelt down, and sheWho tended him with love and tenderness,320Wept, as he faintly sank, and breathed his last,His hands extending feebly, as he sunk,To John, in fervent prayer! The Grecian girlFell, desolate and sobbing, on his breast.But, lo! the wind has veered, and, streaming out,The red cross pennant points to Asia,326As heaven-directed. Speed, ye mariners!The sails are swelling, and the widening deepIs all before you, surging to the gale.So they kept on their course to Ephesus,And o'er the Ægean waves beheld, far off,The cave, the lonely sands and lessening capesOf dreary Patmos sink to rise no more.
Above the throne150Interminable space of glorious lightIs spread, and angel-troops and hierarchies,With golden harps, half-seen, into the depthsOf that interminable light recede,Till the tired vision shrinks. The sea, the sea,Gives up its dead! and Death and Hell pour forth,All hushed and pale, their countless multitudes,Shivering to meet the light; and millions pray,In silence: Hide us, hide us, earth, again!A gulph, beneath them, black as tenfold night,160Glaring at times with intermittent flames,161Opens; and, hark! sad sounds, and shrieks of woe,Come through the darkness. At the dreadful voice,Depart from me, ye cursed! John, amazed,Looked 'round: he saw the blue Ægean shine,And the approaching sail white in the wind.Then he who stood by him thus spoke: Awake;Let us toward the sea, for, look! the shipApproaches nearer to the eastern bay.As near, and still more near, she speeds her course,170On this gray column, prostrate in the dust,Its tale unknown, the sole sad relic hereOf perishable glory,[184]and, who knows,Perhaps a pillar of some marble fane,Raised to dark pagan idols, let us rest,And muse upon the change of mortal things.The Apostle sat, and as he watched the sail,Leaned on his staff to hear.The stranger spoke:Lo! the last fragment of departed days,180This shaft of a fallen column; and even soShall all the monuments of human prideBe smitten to the desert dust, like thoseWho raised them, long to desert dust returned.Where are the hundred gates of regal Thebes!Let the clouds answer, and the silent sands.Where is the Tower of Babel, proudly raised,As to defy the Lord, above the clouds!He raised his arm, and, as a dream, it sank.Waters of Babylon, by thy sad shores190The children of captivity sat down,Sat down and wept, when they remembered thee,O Sion! But the trump and cornet bray;193It is Belshazzar's midnight feast! He sitsA god among his lords and concubines.A thousand torches flame aloof; the songsOf wantonness and blasphemy go up!And are those golden vessels, from the shrineAnd temple of the living God, brought forth,In impious derision? Does the hymn200Resound to Baal, and the gods of gold?And at this hour, do all the princes rise?Is the wine poured from vessels which the LordHad consecrated? Do they drink, and cry,The King shall live for ever? Ah! how changedHis countenance! he trembles, and his knees,Smite one against the other! Look, how changed!God of eternal justice, what is that?The fingers of a man, against the wall,Moving in shadow, and inscribing words210Of dreadful import, but which none may read.Call the Chaldeans and Astrologers!Are they all mute? Call the poor captive slave,Daniel, the prophet of the Lord! The crowdAll turn their looks in silence, with their breathHushed by their terrors. Has he spoken? Yes!Thy sceptre is departed! Hear, O King!He hears and trembles; and that very night,He who blasphemed is gone to meet his Judge!Proclaim the conquering Persian; it was God220Who led his armies forth, who called his nameCyrus;[185]and under him again shall riseThe temple at Jerusalem, shall riseIn beauty and in glory, till the dayOf tribulation smite it to the earth,As we have seen! Weep for Jerusalem;226But in the light of heaven, the Church of ChristShall lift its battlements, till He shall come,With all his jubilant, acclaiming hosts,Amid the clouds!The old man raised his eyes,And on his forehead placed his withered hand,A moment musing; then he turned his lookAgain to his companion at his side.Ah! he is gone; but, hark! a rustling soundIs heard, and, bright above the eastern cliffs,Behold, a glorious angel's pennons spread.Look! he ascends into the azure depthOf light; he still ascends, till the blue skyIs only interrupted by some clouds240Of lightest brede and beauty, o'er the seaTransparent hung. John gazed with hands outspread,But nothing in the airy track was seen,Save those small clouds. Then pensive he sat down,His withered hands extending as in prayer.But, lo! the vessel drops its sail; a boatIs hurrying, smooth and rapid, through the spray—The sounds of men are heard—see, they approach!Yes, they are messengers of peace! they comeWith tidings to the lonely habitant.250Two elders of the Church of EphesusGreet him with salutations from the shipWhose banner streams—the banner of the Cross—Beneath the rocks of Patmos: from the beachThe elders slow advanced, and one thus spoke:Hail, father! Cæsar is no more! Thy ChurchAt Ephesus again, by us, imploresThy presence and thy guidance; and, behold!The bark now waits to bear thee o'er the deep,For Nerva has reversed the stern decree200Passed for thy banishment: arise, return,Return; for now the light of heaven againGleams on the temple of our infant faith;The radiance of the "golden candlestick,"That shone in the deep darkness of the earth,Shall flame more bright. Arise—arise—return!John took their hands, and, blessing them, gave thanksTo God who rules above; then cried, I go—With many thronging thoughts—back to the world,To wait how Heaven may yet dispose my lot,270Till the grave close upon my pilgrimage.Yet would I stay a while, to bid farewellTo that, my cave,[186]where I have seen strange things,And heard strange voices, and have passed five yearsIn loneliness and watching, and in prayer.Let me not part till I have said farewell!Hereafter I shall tell what I have seen.But now, O Lord and Saviour! strengthen me,A poor old man, returning to the world;Oh! look and let me feel thy presence now,280Whom I have served so long I shall not seeAgain thy glorious form upon the earth,But I have lived to see thy Church arise,Now in its infancy, and gathering powerFrom day to day; and thou shalt be adoredTill the remotest isles, and every land,Shall praise and magnify thy glorious name!My days are well-nigh told, and few remain,But I shall live, protected, to record,O Lord and Saviour! all which I have seen,290High and mysterious; as I declared,In the beginning was the Word; the Word,292In the beginning, was with God; the WordWas God!And now farewell! Oh! may I passWhat yet remains of life in faith and hope,Till Christ shall call me in his mercy hence,And lead me gently to my last repose.Then may his Church, which he has raised on earth,Stand, though the tempest shake its battlements,300Stand, till the trumpet, the last trumpet sound,And He shall come in clouds who founded it!As thus he spoke, his stature seemed to growMore lofty, with a step more firm he trod;Whilst a mild radiance, lambent on his face,Shone, as the radiance from the mercy-seat.He held his way, oft looking back to markThe cave where he had lived, when, lo! the dove,So often fed from his pale hand, has leftThe cliff, and flies, faint-murmuring, round his hair.310And now he turns his eyes upon the deep;Yet scarce had reached the margin, when he sawThe sullen dwellers on these rugged shores,Led on by him who had confessed his sins—The robber of Mount Carmel, in his chains—Kneel at his feet. They blessed him, sorrowingThat they should see his face on earth no more.The stern centurion hid a starting tear;The poor emaciate youth knelt down, and sheWho tended him with love and tenderness,320Wept, as he faintly sank, and breathed his last,His hands extending feebly, as he sunk,To John, in fervent prayer! The Grecian girlFell, desolate and sobbing, on his breast.But, lo! the wind has veered, and, streaming out,The red cross pennant points to Asia,326As heaven-directed. Speed, ye mariners!The sails are swelling, and the widening deepIs all before you, surging to the gale.So they kept on their course to Ephesus,And o'er the Ægean waves beheld, far off,The cave, the lonely sands and lessening capesOf dreary Patmos sink to rise no more.
Black Horse.—The period of the "black horse and rider with the balance" is generally referred to the reign of Severus. But here the commentators are at a loss. "The balance" sometimes betokens justice; sometimes is considered as indicative of a season of scarcity. The "black horse" is always associated with calamity. I humbly differ from all commentators. The "horse is black," say some, to show the "severity of the nature" of this emperor. But his nature was generally the reverse of severity. Now I shall give reasons for considering that "the balance" is the balance of Justice, and the "bread for a penny, and oil and wine," indicative of plenty, not scarcity—of plenty owing entirely to the prudent provisions of this emperor; and in proof of this, as well as what I shall say further on the subject, I adduce, not the testimony of professed Christian commentators, but theundesignedtestimony—the stronger for that reason—of one of the most astute adversaries of Christianity—Gibbon.Now, Christian reader, mark hisundesignedcorroboration of the veracity of this prophecy, as applied to Severus.Scripture—"Balances in his hand."What says Gibbon? "Salutary laws were executed with inflexible firmness." "In the administration of justice, the judgments of the emperor were characterised by attention, discernment, and impartiality;[187]and whenever hedeviated from the strict line of equity, it was generally in favour of the poor and oppressed."—Gibbon.Scripture.—"A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine."Gibbon.—"He left in the public granaries a provision of corn for seven years, at the rate of 2500 quarters a day."But the "black horse." Does this colour seem suitable to a period of general equity and justice? How simple is one explanation, at least so it appears to me, the first, I believe, who ever remarked the circumstance, and how minutely does the singular fact tend to attest the awful truth of the prophecy—"Severus was an African!"—Gibbon. And the "horse is black," not as indicative of calamity, but of the country of which Severus was a native.The prophecy connected with the "horses" seems as regular as possible, beginning from the times of the Apostle. The white horse and rider is universally considered as emblematic of the gospel, going forth "conquering and to conquer." The red horse is the horse of blood, under Trajan, who literally took "peace from all the earth." The pale horse designates the famine and dreadful pestilence under Gallienus. I have shown, not from the writers in favour of Christianity, but from the attestation of the most astute and insidious writer against it, the regular succession and wonderful accordance, in the several successive periods, of the fact and the prophetic adumbrations. Under Gallienus, how remarkable are these words, as applicable to the "pale horse," and pestilence, in the third century, commencing about one hundred and fifty years after the death of John! "Famine is almost always followed by epidemical diseases: other causes, however, must have contributed to the furious plague which, from the year 250 to the year 265, raged, without interruption, in every province, every city, and almost every family of the Roman empire. Five thousand died daily in Rome; and we might suspect, that war, pestilence, and famine had, in a few years, consumed the moiety of the human race."—Gibbon.The Red Horse.—"Take peace from all the earth." Trajan's conquests. "Every day the astonished Senate received intelligence of new names and new nations that acknowledged his sway. The kings of Bosphorus, Colchis, Albania, &c.; the tribes of the Median and Carducian hills had implored his protection; Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Assyria were reduced to provinces."—Gibbon.For the elucidations of this last book, I have referred, generally, to commentators, chiefly Bishop Newton, though the reader may sometimes be disposed to smile rather than acquiesce.But I cannot omit my own views of some particular passages. One head of the beast, wounded, "but not to death," is most singularly descriptive of the Roman empire, restored to strength and power, under Claudius the Second and Aurelius. "And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion." How unexpectedly do they tally with what Gibbon says of the Roman empire at the time, consisting of the "tyrants" (lions)—"soldiers," scattered through the vast and various provinces, and "barbarians"—Goths, indicated by the bear!I may observe, further, that the "locusts and crawling things like scorpions,"issuing out of the smoke, are, first, locusts—the innumerable northern armies; secondly, "crawling things like scorpions"—the loathsome vileness attributed to nature by the succession of Gnostic sects, depraving the beautiful code of Christianity, and all agreeing in one doctrine, derived from the Chaldean philosophers. The Genius of Evil, according to the philosophy of the Chaldeans, produced the body, as Orosmades the soul! Hence "forbidding to marry," unnatural austerities, &c.; and remark, one book of Tertullian to the Gnostics is called—what? Scorpio.
Black Horse.—The period of the "black horse and rider with the balance" is generally referred to the reign of Severus. But here the commentators are at a loss. "The balance" sometimes betokens justice; sometimes is considered as indicative of a season of scarcity. The "black horse" is always associated with calamity. I humbly differ from all commentators. The "horse is black," say some, to show the "severity of the nature" of this emperor. But his nature was generally the reverse of severity. Now I shall give reasons for considering that "the balance" is the balance of Justice, and the "bread for a penny, and oil and wine," indicative of plenty, not scarcity—of plenty owing entirely to the prudent provisions of this emperor; and in proof of this, as well as what I shall say further on the subject, I adduce, not the testimony of professed Christian commentators, but theundesignedtestimony—the stronger for that reason—of one of the most astute adversaries of Christianity—Gibbon.
Now, Christian reader, mark hisundesignedcorroboration of the veracity of this prophecy, as applied to Severus.
Scripture—"Balances in his hand."
What says Gibbon? "Salutary laws were executed with inflexible firmness." "In the administration of justice, the judgments of the emperor were characterised by attention, discernment, and impartiality;[187]and whenever hedeviated from the strict line of equity, it was generally in favour of the poor and oppressed."—Gibbon.
Scripture.—"A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine."
Gibbon.—"He left in the public granaries a provision of corn for seven years, at the rate of 2500 quarters a day."
But the "black horse." Does this colour seem suitable to a period of general equity and justice? How simple is one explanation, at least so it appears to me, the first, I believe, who ever remarked the circumstance, and how minutely does the singular fact tend to attest the awful truth of the prophecy—"Severus was an African!"—Gibbon. And the "horse is black," not as indicative of calamity, but of the country of which Severus was a native.
The prophecy connected with the "horses" seems as regular as possible, beginning from the times of the Apostle. The white horse and rider is universally considered as emblematic of the gospel, going forth "conquering and to conquer." The red horse is the horse of blood, under Trajan, who literally took "peace from all the earth." The pale horse designates the famine and dreadful pestilence under Gallienus. I have shown, not from the writers in favour of Christianity, but from the attestation of the most astute and insidious writer against it, the regular succession and wonderful accordance, in the several successive periods, of the fact and the prophetic adumbrations. Under Gallienus, how remarkable are these words, as applicable to the "pale horse," and pestilence, in the third century, commencing about one hundred and fifty years after the death of John! "Famine is almost always followed by epidemical diseases: other causes, however, must have contributed to the furious plague which, from the year 250 to the year 265, raged, without interruption, in every province, every city, and almost every family of the Roman empire. Five thousand died daily in Rome; and we might suspect, that war, pestilence, and famine had, in a few years, consumed the moiety of the human race."—Gibbon.
The Red Horse.—"Take peace from all the earth." Trajan's conquests. "Every day the astonished Senate received intelligence of new names and new nations that acknowledged his sway. The kings of Bosphorus, Colchis, Albania, &c.; the tribes of the Median and Carducian hills had implored his protection; Armenia, Mesopotamia, and Assyria were reduced to provinces."—Gibbon.
For the elucidations of this last book, I have referred, generally, to commentators, chiefly Bishop Newton, though the reader may sometimes be disposed to smile rather than acquiesce.
But I cannot omit my own views of some particular passages. One head of the beast, wounded, "but not to death," is most singularly descriptive of the Roman empire, restored to strength and power, under Claudius the Second and Aurelius. "And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion." How unexpectedly do they tally with what Gibbon says of the Roman empire at the time, consisting of the "tyrants" (lions)—"soldiers," scattered through the vast and various provinces, and "barbarians"—Goths, indicated by the bear!
I may observe, further, that the "locusts and crawling things like scorpions,"issuing out of the smoke, are, first, locusts—the innumerable northern armies; secondly, "crawling things like scorpions"—the loathsome vileness attributed to nature by the succession of Gnostic sects, depraving the beautiful code of Christianity, and all agreeing in one doctrine, derived from the Chaldean philosophers. The Genius of Evil, according to the philosophy of the Chaldeans, produced the body, as Orosmades the soul! Hence "forbidding to marry," unnatural austerities, &c.; and remark, one book of Tertullian to the Gnostics is called—what? Scorpio.
FOOTNOTES:[112]These sonnets have been printed in their chronological order in the preceding volume of Mr Bowles' poems.[113]Particularly Joanna Baillie, Mrs Hemans, Miss Landon, and my namesake—no otherwise related than by love of kindred music—Caroline Bowles.[114]Criminals were banished to this island.[115]The period is uncertain.[116]Now Tino.[117]See the first chapter of Revelation.[118]Transfiguration on Mount Tabor.[119]Rev. i. 17, 18.[120]Domitian, who had banished him, and who had so proclaimed himself, was now dead, but without its being known to St John.[121]See the harrowing account of the siege of Jerusalem, when the prophecy in St Matthew was fulfilled to the letter.[122]Josephus.[123]Rev. iv. 3.[124]Rev. iv. 3.[125]Rev. iv. 4.[126]A chasm is shown in the cave, from which it is said the voice in the Revelation proceeded.[127]Rev. iv. 6. I follow the best expositors in making those appearances (translated "beasts") the higher order of angels.[128]Rev. v. 2.[129]The book would be utterly and for ever sealed, but for our Lord Jesus Christ.[130]Quails and rock pigeons are the only land-birds on the island, as there are no bushes.[131]The islands of the Ægean are divided into the Sporades and Clycades; Patmos is among the Sporades.[132]Evodias succeeded St Peter as Bishop of Antioch; Ignatius, disciple of St John, succeeded Evodias (Eusebius).[133]The disciples were first called Christians at Antioch.[134]"And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel" (1 Kings xviii. 42).[135]The wind which blew when St Paul was shipwrecked, now called Levanter, from its violence.[136]Οροων επ οινοπα ποντον (Homer.)[137]Seven Churches of Asia.[138]Adriatic.[139]Sardis, now Sart. Thyatira, now Ist-kissar, or White Castle.[140]A fine expression of Sharon Turner.[141]Priests of Cybele.[142]There were a hundred altars to the goddess in Cyprus.[143]The names of the illustrious visitors who heard the sound, twelve centuries past, may be seen in Pocock.[144]The pyramids. The first time the author met the celebrated Dr Clarke, before the publication of his Travels, the first question eagerly asked was, "Of what colour are the pyramids?" To his surprise, the answer was, "As white as snow." But I have used the word "pale," as more in harmony with the picture, and less startling.[145]The Hermes of the Greeks, the Mercury of the Romans, the Teut of the Celts, and the great teacher of the one unknown God, before Egypt sank into the grossest superstition.[146]Perhaps the idea may be fanciful, but, to my ear, nothing more clearly reflects the image than the very words of the sentence—"R[']an ăl[']ong ŭp[']on thĕ gr[']ound"Handel, in his sublime Oratorio, "Israel in Egypt," seems to have felt this.[147]Thomas, as by tradition we receive, chose Parthia; Andrew, Scythia (Eusebius).[148]"Scythicæ non mitior ara Dianæ" (Lucan).[149]See the exquisite tragedy of "Iphigenia in Tauris," by Euripides. Euripides may be alluded to here, as St Paul quoted Menander.[150]"Then certain philosophers of the Epicureans and of the Stoics encountered him" (Acts xvii. 18),—a singular and most interesting circumstance.[151]Epicurus.[152]The Hill of Mars. How striking the coincidence! Ovid says—"Mavortis in Arce."[153]Temple of Minerva, on the Acropolis.[154]The celebrated gardens of Epicurus.[155]Philippi and Thessalonica, in Macedonia.[156]Grecian Apollo.[157]Nero.[158]See that most interesting chapter in Irenæus, descriptive of the progress of the gospel to the Celts, and to the "extremities of the earth."[159]Mediterranean.[160]See, in Josephus, the account of Pedanius.[161]This was not an uncommon circumstance during the famine and this most terrible siege. See Josephus.[162]Jews crucified, by order of Titus, without the walls.[163]Adommin, the supposed scene of the wounded traveller in the Gospel.[164]Flowers of Carmel, growing wildly.[165]The highest point of the island.[166]It should be remembered, that Domitian was murdered on the 18th of October; this could not have been known at Patmos before the beginning of November.[167]Applied, generally, to the conquests of Trajan.[168]Allusive, as generally conceived, to the Emperor Severus.[169]"To kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth" (Rev. vi. 8).[170]Rev. iv.[171]Rev. vii.[172]I must refer to the commentators in general for an illustration of these striking passages.[173]The ensign of military command in the Roman legions.[174]This seems no improbable cause.[175]Rev. xvi.[176]Rev. xix.[177]Ελικη γε μεν ανδρες ΑχαιοιΕιν αλι τεκμαιρονται, ινα χρη νηας αγινειν (Aratus).[178]Samuel.[179]The dawn of knowledge and the Reformation; ignorance only being the parent of superstition.[180]The classical reader will remember the beautiful tragedy of "Ion" in Euripides, from whom were named the Ionian islands.[181]A beautiful image from Ovid.[182]The Island of Roses.[183]See that beautiful chapter in the Wisdom of Solomon.[184]A broken column on the shore is spoken of by early writers, supposed to have been a relic of the earliest ages.[185]See the 45th chapter of Isaiah.[186]The classical reader will remember the farewell of Philoctates to his solitary cave in Lemnos.[187]He published, it is true, one edict against the increase of the Jews and Christians in the empire.
[112]These sonnets have been printed in their chronological order in the preceding volume of Mr Bowles' poems.
[112]These sonnets have been printed in their chronological order in the preceding volume of Mr Bowles' poems.
[113]Particularly Joanna Baillie, Mrs Hemans, Miss Landon, and my namesake—no otherwise related than by love of kindred music—Caroline Bowles.
[113]Particularly Joanna Baillie, Mrs Hemans, Miss Landon, and my namesake—no otherwise related than by love of kindred music—Caroline Bowles.
[114]Criminals were banished to this island.
[114]Criminals were banished to this island.
[115]The period is uncertain.
[115]The period is uncertain.
[116]Now Tino.
[116]Now Tino.
[117]See the first chapter of Revelation.
[117]See the first chapter of Revelation.
[118]Transfiguration on Mount Tabor.
[118]Transfiguration on Mount Tabor.
[119]Rev. i. 17, 18.
[119]Rev. i. 17, 18.
[120]Domitian, who had banished him, and who had so proclaimed himself, was now dead, but without its being known to St John.
[120]Domitian, who had banished him, and who had so proclaimed himself, was now dead, but without its being known to St John.
[121]See the harrowing account of the siege of Jerusalem, when the prophecy in St Matthew was fulfilled to the letter.
[121]See the harrowing account of the siege of Jerusalem, when the prophecy in St Matthew was fulfilled to the letter.
[122]Josephus.
[122]Josephus.
[123]Rev. iv. 3.
[123]Rev. iv. 3.
[124]Rev. iv. 3.
[124]Rev. iv. 3.
[125]Rev. iv. 4.
[125]Rev. iv. 4.
[126]A chasm is shown in the cave, from which it is said the voice in the Revelation proceeded.
[126]A chasm is shown in the cave, from which it is said the voice in the Revelation proceeded.
[127]Rev. iv. 6. I follow the best expositors in making those appearances (translated "beasts") the higher order of angels.
[127]Rev. iv. 6. I follow the best expositors in making those appearances (translated "beasts") the higher order of angels.
[128]Rev. v. 2.
[128]Rev. v. 2.
[129]The book would be utterly and for ever sealed, but for our Lord Jesus Christ.
[129]The book would be utterly and for ever sealed, but for our Lord Jesus Christ.
[130]Quails and rock pigeons are the only land-birds on the island, as there are no bushes.
[130]Quails and rock pigeons are the only land-birds on the island, as there are no bushes.
[131]The islands of the Ægean are divided into the Sporades and Clycades; Patmos is among the Sporades.
[131]The islands of the Ægean are divided into the Sporades and Clycades; Patmos is among the Sporades.
[132]Evodias succeeded St Peter as Bishop of Antioch; Ignatius, disciple of St John, succeeded Evodias (Eusebius).
[132]Evodias succeeded St Peter as Bishop of Antioch; Ignatius, disciple of St John, succeeded Evodias (Eusebius).
[133]The disciples were first called Christians at Antioch.
[133]The disciples were first called Christians at Antioch.
[134]"And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel" (1 Kings xviii. 42).
[134]"And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel" (1 Kings xviii. 42).
[135]The wind which blew when St Paul was shipwrecked, now called Levanter, from its violence.
[135]The wind which blew when St Paul was shipwrecked, now called Levanter, from its violence.
[136]Οροων επ οινοπα ποντον (Homer.)
[136]Οροων επ οινοπα ποντον (Homer.)
[137]Seven Churches of Asia.
[137]Seven Churches of Asia.
[138]Adriatic.
[138]Adriatic.
[139]Sardis, now Sart. Thyatira, now Ist-kissar, or White Castle.
[139]Sardis, now Sart. Thyatira, now Ist-kissar, or White Castle.
[140]A fine expression of Sharon Turner.
[140]A fine expression of Sharon Turner.
[141]Priests of Cybele.
[141]Priests of Cybele.
[142]There were a hundred altars to the goddess in Cyprus.
[142]There were a hundred altars to the goddess in Cyprus.
[143]The names of the illustrious visitors who heard the sound, twelve centuries past, may be seen in Pocock.
[143]The names of the illustrious visitors who heard the sound, twelve centuries past, may be seen in Pocock.
[144]The pyramids. The first time the author met the celebrated Dr Clarke, before the publication of his Travels, the first question eagerly asked was, "Of what colour are the pyramids?" To his surprise, the answer was, "As white as snow." But I have used the word "pale," as more in harmony with the picture, and less startling.
[144]The pyramids. The first time the author met the celebrated Dr Clarke, before the publication of his Travels, the first question eagerly asked was, "Of what colour are the pyramids?" To his surprise, the answer was, "As white as snow." But I have used the word "pale," as more in harmony with the picture, and less startling.
[145]The Hermes of the Greeks, the Mercury of the Romans, the Teut of the Celts, and the great teacher of the one unknown God, before Egypt sank into the grossest superstition.
[145]The Hermes of the Greeks, the Mercury of the Romans, the Teut of the Celts, and the great teacher of the one unknown God, before Egypt sank into the grossest superstition.
[146]Perhaps the idea may be fanciful, but, to my ear, nothing more clearly reflects the image than the very words of the sentence—"R[']an ăl[']ong ŭp[']on thĕ gr[']ound"Handel, in his sublime Oratorio, "Israel in Egypt," seems to have felt this.
[146]Perhaps the idea may be fanciful, but, to my ear, nothing more clearly reflects the image than the very words of the sentence—
"R[']an ăl[']ong ŭp[']on thĕ gr[']ound"
Handel, in his sublime Oratorio, "Israel in Egypt," seems to have felt this.
[147]Thomas, as by tradition we receive, chose Parthia; Andrew, Scythia (Eusebius).
[147]Thomas, as by tradition we receive, chose Parthia; Andrew, Scythia (Eusebius).
[148]"Scythicæ non mitior ara Dianæ" (Lucan).
[148]"Scythicæ non mitior ara Dianæ" (Lucan).
[149]See the exquisite tragedy of "Iphigenia in Tauris," by Euripides. Euripides may be alluded to here, as St Paul quoted Menander.
[149]See the exquisite tragedy of "Iphigenia in Tauris," by Euripides. Euripides may be alluded to here, as St Paul quoted Menander.
[150]"Then certain philosophers of the Epicureans and of the Stoics encountered him" (Acts xvii. 18),—a singular and most interesting circumstance.
[150]"Then certain philosophers of the Epicureans and of the Stoics encountered him" (Acts xvii. 18),—a singular and most interesting circumstance.
[151]Epicurus.
[151]Epicurus.
[152]The Hill of Mars. How striking the coincidence! Ovid says—"Mavortis in Arce."
[152]The Hill of Mars. How striking the coincidence! Ovid says—
"Mavortis in Arce."
"Mavortis in Arce."
[153]Temple of Minerva, on the Acropolis.
[153]Temple of Minerva, on the Acropolis.
[154]The celebrated gardens of Epicurus.
[154]The celebrated gardens of Epicurus.
[155]Philippi and Thessalonica, in Macedonia.
[155]Philippi and Thessalonica, in Macedonia.
[156]Grecian Apollo.
[156]Grecian Apollo.
[157]Nero.
[157]Nero.
[158]See that most interesting chapter in Irenæus, descriptive of the progress of the gospel to the Celts, and to the "extremities of the earth."
[158]See that most interesting chapter in Irenæus, descriptive of the progress of the gospel to the Celts, and to the "extremities of the earth."
[159]Mediterranean.
[159]Mediterranean.
[160]See, in Josephus, the account of Pedanius.
[160]See, in Josephus, the account of Pedanius.
[161]This was not an uncommon circumstance during the famine and this most terrible siege. See Josephus.
[161]This was not an uncommon circumstance during the famine and this most terrible siege. See Josephus.
[162]Jews crucified, by order of Titus, without the walls.
[162]Jews crucified, by order of Titus, without the walls.
[163]Adommin, the supposed scene of the wounded traveller in the Gospel.
[163]Adommin, the supposed scene of the wounded traveller in the Gospel.
[164]Flowers of Carmel, growing wildly.
[164]Flowers of Carmel, growing wildly.
[165]The highest point of the island.
[165]The highest point of the island.
[166]It should be remembered, that Domitian was murdered on the 18th of October; this could not have been known at Patmos before the beginning of November.
[166]It should be remembered, that Domitian was murdered on the 18th of October; this could not have been known at Patmos before the beginning of November.
[167]Applied, generally, to the conquests of Trajan.
[167]Applied, generally, to the conquests of Trajan.
[168]Allusive, as generally conceived, to the Emperor Severus.
[168]Allusive, as generally conceived, to the Emperor Severus.
[169]"To kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth" (Rev. vi. 8).
[169]"To kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth" (Rev. vi. 8).
[170]Rev. iv.
[170]Rev. iv.
[171]Rev. vii.
[171]Rev. vii.
[172]I must refer to the commentators in general for an illustration of these striking passages.
[172]I must refer to the commentators in general for an illustration of these striking passages.
[173]The ensign of military command in the Roman legions.
[173]The ensign of military command in the Roman legions.
[174]This seems no improbable cause.
[174]This seems no improbable cause.
[175]Rev. xvi.
[175]Rev. xvi.
[176]Rev. xix.
[176]Rev. xix.
[177]Ελικη γε μεν ανδρες ΑχαιοιΕιν αλι τεκμαιρονται, ινα χρη νηας αγινειν (Aratus).
[177]Ελικη γε μεν ανδρες ΑχαιοιΕιν αλι τεκμαιρονται, ινα χρη νηας αγινειν (Aratus).
[178]Samuel.
[178]Samuel.
[179]The dawn of knowledge and the Reformation; ignorance only being the parent of superstition.
[179]The dawn of knowledge and the Reformation; ignorance only being the parent of superstition.
[180]The classical reader will remember the beautiful tragedy of "Ion" in Euripides, from whom were named the Ionian islands.
[180]The classical reader will remember the beautiful tragedy of "Ion" in Euripides, from whom were named the Ionian islands.
[181]A beautiful image from Ovid.
[181]A beautiful image from Ovid.
[182]The Island of Roses.
[182]The Island of Roses.
[183]See that beautiful chapter in the Wisdom of Solomon.
[183]See that beautiful chapter in the Wisdom of Solomon.
[184]A broken column on the shore is spoken of by early writers, supposed to have been a relic of the earliest ages.
[184]A broken column on the shore is spoken of by early writers, supposed to have been a relic of the earliest ages.
[185]See the 45th chapter of Isaiah.
[185]See the 45th chapter of Isaiah.
[186]The classical reader will remember the farewell of Philoctates to his solitary cave in Lemnos.
[186]The classical reader will remember the farewell of Philoctates to his solitary cave in Lemnos.
[187]He published, it is true, one edict against the increase of the Jews and Christians in the empire.
[187]He published, it is true, one edict against the increase of the Jews and Christians in the empire.