"Come, child, the world thou must explore, And as we thus roam onward, so Thy whole life's region travel o'er. And when thy pilgrimage is done Heaven will not fly thee, but be—won.” WALLIN. Wallin, who was born in 1779, and died in 1839, Archbishop, is the greatest religious poet of Sweden. They who would know what he really is, must read the new Swedish Psalm-Book, which was chiefly prepared by him, and in which no less than seventy-six of his own original compositions are to be found. When Wallin is named as a literary magnate, it is especially of his Hymns and his displays of religious eloquence, that you think, and justly; for there, Wallin is first and foremost"he and none else." It is in those that you recognize him at once, when he breaks forth with his thundering: "Up, psaltery and harp, Up, word of power, thou Spirit's sword, Or when he sings the beauty of God's earth, in his inimitable Paraphrase of the Hundredth and Fourth Psalm; a paraphrase which, says Sturzenbecher, you may call a melo-drama, in the old musical sense of the word; for you seem all through to have the accompaniment of the organ to the changing and most expressive rhythm of the piece: "Sing, my soul, Infinite! Omnipotent! God of all worlds! In glorious light, all star-bestrowed The heaven of heavens is thine abode, Infinite! Omnipotent! God of all worlds! Thy chariot on the winds doth go; Omnipotent! O thou, our God! The Earth sang not thy peerless might Thou spakest-and from empty night Thou spakest-and with glad devotion, High soared the mountains Glittering and steep; From rock to rock dashing, 'Mid the wild tempest's crashing, Took their dread leap. Then opened out the quiet dale, With all its grass and flowers, Then gushed the spring so clear and pale Beneath the forest bowers. Then ran the brooks from moorlands brown Along the verdant lea; And the fleet fowls of heaven shot down Into a leafy sea. 'Mid the wild herd's rejoicing throng, The nightingale's accord; All Nature raised its matin song And praised Thee-Nature's Lord. * O Thou who wast, and art, and e'er shalt be! And through the works of thy Almighty hands And answer gives the sea- The waste without end, Where in ceaseless commotion Winds and billows contend. Where myriads that live, without count, without name Fill the deep, as it were, with a quivering flame, Through dumb night's hidden reign. And man, unwearied with earth's wide strife, Still hunts around death's grim domain The over-flood of life. To Thee! to Thee! Thou Sire of all, Our prayers in faith ascend. All things that breathe, both great and small, On Thee alone depend. Thy bounteous hand thou dost unclose, And happiness unstinted flows In streams that know no end. There are certainly in Wallin a strength and majesty, a solemn splendour and harmony of intonation, that mark the great master in sacred poetry. We are told, moreover, by his countrymen, that many of the characteristics of his lyrics were found in his preaching and his speeches. He had a style, and even a peculiar accentuation, often at variance with the prosody of the language, which, when he declaimed from the pulpit or the tribune, produced through its strange originality a wonderful and overpowering effect. When he stood, the dark-glancing man, with his deep voice, which seemed to issue from the depth of an oracular cave, with this novel rhythm, and its measured but always piquant accentuation, and poured forth his lofty speech, full of sinewy words and antitheses; or his solemn sermon, which, like his Psalms and Hymns, have no 'parallel in the Swedish language; you seemed to hear an inspired prophet from the ancient times, or a Nestor, with his head full of the wisdom of ages, and his breast of that universal music of which Shakspeare speaks. دو Wallin, besides his splendid Hymns, was the author also of a good deal of light lyric poetry of a more worldly nature. Amongst his miscellaneous pieces, some of the most popular are: "The Angel of Death," "Fanaticism," "The Sailor," "Sunday Morning,' "Home-sickness," "A Country Maiden," "Song to Washington," "To Dora," and "The Old Woman's Counsel." But in this class of poetry Wallin has many competitors; in his own sacred province, he had none. He is styled "The David's Harp of the North," and was an Archbishop in song as well as in station. CHAPTER XVII. THE PHOSPHORISTS. WE have noticed the causes which led to the formation of this literary sect. Atterbom, Hammarsköld and Palmblad, were its great chiefs; but Atterbom was considered as its especial head and founder. In "Polypheme," in "Phosphorus," and other publications, he led the attack manfully against the Academicians; and for those services deserves well of his nation. As regards the school itself, though a great improvement on the old Gustavian one, it is far from what the spirit and more extended views of the present times demand, still less of what we may expect in the future. In aiming at being romantic, in opposition to the frigid formality of the Gallic class, it became too romantic. Atterbom had the ambition of becoming a sort of Northern troubadour, as his taste had been affected by reading the poetry of the Provençal and Italian schools. This gives an airy unreality to his productions, which disappoints the healthy appetite of modern readers, who require something with more bone and muscle in it. Imagine us carried back to the allegories of Giles and Phineas Fletcher, with their "Purple Island," or, in plain, mortal language, the human body, |