Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847Various
History
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
The influence of this converted passion, if the term may be allowed, is
co-existent with all our thoughts and actions, and occurs when the mind
is occupied by some powerful feeling, whose commanding influence seems
to subdue every inferior emotion. The patriot forgets individual wrongs
in his love of country; the soldier knows not fear, anxiety, or hope,
when the “big war” makes “ambition virtue.” Even religion itself is not
uninfluenced by this principle. The apostles, we are told, when confined
in the prisons of Thyatira, sang praises unto God at midnight; as if the
darkness and gloom of their dungeon, and the aggravating circumstances
of their confinement, heightened the triumph of their devotion, and
enabled them, notwithstanding the fearful earthquake which shook the
foundations of their prison, to conduct with moderation and fortitude.
The flames of persecution, while consuming the bodies of suffering
martyrs, seem to have given new energy to the pious emotions of their
minds, and enabled the fervency of their devotions to rise superior to
every external object. The design of such a constitution of our nature
is easily seen; it is thus the powers of the human mind are made to
correspond with the occasion on which they are excited. It is a
principle salutary in its effects upon ourselves, and illustrative of
His character who has established all things in benevolence and wisdom.
Thus we may see how the chastening hand can convert the proudest scorn
to the timidity of love, feeling itself hopelessly unrequited; and by
tracing the arcana of the heart’s mysteries, discover how natural was
the process, or rather the retribution, which turned the pride of Amy,
and made her recoil from the contemplation of her former self.
CHAPTER IV.
I vowed that I would dedicate my powers
To thee and thine: have I not kept the vow?
With beating heart and streaming eyes, even now
I call the phantoms of a thousand hours,
Each from the voiceless grave.
—
——The lady’s heart beat fast,
As half in joy, and half aghast,
On those high domes her look she cast.
—SHELLEY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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