Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 3, September 1841 — John Shaqi
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 3, September 1841Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XIX, No. 3, September 1841
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
But this depends upon ourselves. Nations, like individuals, are free
agents. We can go upwards or downwards; we can hail our Messiah or we
can reject him; and in order that we may mount not sink in the scale of
moral being, it is desirable that we should not permit ourselves to be
bound down too closely and too continually to the local and temporary
but exciting exigencies of the present hour, that pecuniary and
political subjects should not engross too much of our attention, lest we
become altogether “of the earth, earthy.” Music, poetry, painting,
sculpture, eloquence and science, the fine performances of a Forrest or
a Kean, have a tendency to mingle with our daily and (when too
exclusively persisted in) narrowing and degrading occupations; something
that turns the spirit another way, and fills, refreshes and
intellectualizes the character. Such articles as that alluded to on the
wonderful and still scarcely appreciated excellences of Shakspeare, will
be as softening and reviving in their effects upon thousands of minds,
parched and hot under the influence of merely mechanical employments, or
interested and selfish impressions, as a plentiful summer shower is to
nature, when burnt and withered with a long drought.
The reading of this article has turned me again for a few evenings to my
most favorite author, and raised many new ideas in my mind, which is
always the case when I open those fascinating pages. I propose to
furnish, in several papers, some of the thoughts which crowd upon me
while reading him. I cannot bear to read him alone. It is like listening
to an oration from the fiery lips of Cicero in an empty hall, or hearing
Channing address deserted aisles. I want a circle to share those streams
of light; I want to feel that the music-waves roll to the hearts of
others beside myself. It almost seems selfish to brood over delights so
ethereal, to gaze on vistas so resplendent, to enter a temple so
gorgeous and so vast without some one at my side to call on in the
moment of rapture.
There is, moreover, in the article of the Edinburgh Review, the
following extraordinary annunciation.
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