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"Mysterious GOD! whose anger hath

Issues of joy and good;

Who scatterest blessings in thy wrath,
And frown'st beatitude;

Whose whirlwinds and whose lightnings bring

A blessing on their fearful wing;
Make us to feel, in this the hour

Of sorrow's wild and tempting power,
How poor the thoughts of erring dust,
And that thy judgments all are just!

"Now joy to thee, thou ransomed one!
For thou hast gone on high;

The crown of glory thou hast won,
And wed felicity!

The Saviour, who hath led thee here,

Through earth's dark wilderness and drear,

Shall guide thee, with a friendly hand,
Through all that green and better land,

Th' unvisioned Paradise above,

Where thought is bliss, and life is love!

"General Theological Seminary, N. Y.,

November 22, 1834,"

B.

dent. At that time he told us of his hopes and fears; of his hopes, that he might yet be enabled to proceed to China as a missionary, and thus fulfil the warmest wishes of his heart;- of his fears, that the hand of death was already upon him. After a striking description of the struggle through which he had passed in coming to the determination to go abroad, and expressing the conviction that he had resisted the strivings of the SPIRIT OF GOD urging him to the work, he concluded with the impressive admonition, not soon to be forgotten by those who heard him, "Quench not the SPIRIT!"

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"HERE sleeps a herald of the Cross, whose voice

In hallowed fanes was never lifted up,

Whose hands ne'er blessed the sacramental cup,
Nor brake the bread, the faithful to rejoice;
And yet he panted with a holy zeal

To cross the storm-white wave, and fearless show,
To countless worshippers of fabled Fo,
That fount, whose waters all pollutions heal.
With living faith, and apostolic love,

The youthful warrior had prepared to roam,
When the sad mandate issued from above,

To stay his steps, and call him to his home;
Mourner, weep not! 'our Father's will be done!'
He hath some other work to give his son.

B. D. W."

Upon a plain marble slab, enclosed in the churchyard of St. Peter's church, Philadelphia, may be read this faithful and touching inscription, prepared by Bishop Doane of New Jersey:

"Sacred to the Memory
of

The Reverend AUGUSTUS FOSTER LYDE,
A Deacon

Of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States;
Who was born in Wilmington, North Carolina,
February 4th, 1813;

And died in the City of Philadelphia,
November 19th, 1834.

* It was presented by the writer to a friend of the deceased. Whether

it has been ever published, the Editor is not informed.

It was in his Heart

To preach the Gospel to the Chinese;
And for this Service

He had offered himself to GOD, and the Church.
But it pleased his Heavenly Father
To call him early home,

And he died,
At 21,

Patient, cheerful, victorious,

Through the faith

Of the LORD JESUS CHRIST."

As the

We will extend this introduction by a few observations upon the literary Remains of Lyde. plan of the Editor of these Remains has nothing to do with the preparation of a memoir of our brother, no effort has been made to collect his correspondence. We may suppose, from his general character, that such a collection, exhibiting the more secret operations of his mind and heart, in familiar epistolary communications, must be peculiarly interesting. In selecting the materials for the present volume, the Editor has had occasion to revise a number of more formal compositions, such as themes written in College, and disquisitions upon various subjects, besides essays written during the course of his theological studies, and addresses upon different occasions, also fragments of compositions, and single thoughts preserved on loose papers. All these pieces exhibit a sound judgment, a habit of patient reflection, a luxuriant and almost uncontrollable imagination. Some of his later pieces are very elaborate. And the comparison of them, as written at different periods, while

all have the same characteristics, evinces the result of constant study and habitual discipline, — a rapid improvement, enlargement of comprehensiveness, cultivation of taste. The various prose productions, which have been furnished to the notice of the Editor, show that the elements of his mind were well distributed, and were of a superior class.

he was

But the literary Remains, which it becomes the Editor to speak of with more particularity, are Poetical, what are submitted in the present little volume. The most remarkable characteristic in our brother's mind was depth of sentiment. This principle of sentiment impressed its influence upon all his mental acts, and gave a peculiarity to even his manners in social life. Gifted with quick perceptions, a discriminating judge of the character of actions and persons, moved by the tenderest pity, or the most yearning love, or the most generous enthusiasm, and he was capable of the keenest satire. Owing to this, he was uncommunicative with strangers, but free to converse where he felt sympathy; he disliked and shunned disputation, and gave his opinions sententiously. His poems are full of pure and captivating sentiment, while they are devoid of its opposite, sentimentalism. The piece entitled "Home of my Childhood," and the poem entitled "Humility," and that entitled "The Death of Moses," are affecting and beautiful illustrations of this remark.

We must observe, that this collection of pieces is not brought forward to compete with the matured and finished productions of professional and educated

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poets. And yet these pieces have high intrinsic merit. They are irregular many times in their measure. They need the "limæ labor et mora, " which their Author was never suffered to bestow. They are published as he left them, with all their imperfections. Yet they are filled with "the soul of poetry," and, in many places, their construction is very perfect. We cannot but think, (although it is possible our personal partialities for the Author may blind our judgment,) that these pieces of Lyde will occupy no mean position on the scale of American poetry. They are as yet, in some respects, unique in the history of American poetry, the Remains of a very youthful, and talented, and pious student.

Let it be borne in mind, that these pieces were nearly all written before their Author had arrived at eighteen years of age; and that, when he departed this life, his mind was not fully matured. Habituated to but few intimacies, and a student, his faculties could not ripen so rapidly, as in the case of those, who have many companions, and are thrown early into active society. Three or four years more would have developed capacities, of which he was just becoming conscious, when he deceased. And for the last three years of his life he paid but little attention to poetry, from conscientious motives. If he had reviewed these pieces at a short period before his death, they would undoubtedly have been much improved. The last piece composed by him was that entitled "Humility," written a year or two previous to his decease; and he at that time expressed a de

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