ebly felt by us--they may,
perhaps, be rather blots on the beauty of his poetry than of his
faith--and if, in some degree, offensive in the composition of a poem,
far less so, or not at all, in that of a life.
All his shorter poems are stamped with the character of the man. Most of
them are breathings of his own devout spirit, either delighted or awed
by a sense of the Divine goodness and mercy towards itself, or
tremblingly alive--not in mere sensibility to human virtues and joys,
crimes and sorrows, for that often belongs to the diseased and
depraved--but in solemn, moral, and religious thought, to all of good or
evil befalling his brethren of mankind. "A sparrow cannot fall to the
ground"--a flower of the field cannot wither immediately before his
eyes--without awakening in his heart such thoughts as we may believe God
intended should be awakened even by such sights as these; for the fall
of a sparrow is a Scriptural illustration of His providence, and His
hand framed the lily, whose array is more royal than was that of Solomon
in all his glory. Herein he resembles Wordsworth--less profound
certainly--less lofty; for in its highest moods the genius of Wordsworth
walks by itself--unapproachable--on the earth it beautifies. But
Montgomery's poetical piety is far more prevalent over his whole
character; it belongs more essentially and permanently to the man.
Perhaps, although we shall not say so, it may be more simple, natural,
and true. More accordant it certainly is, with the sympathies of
ordinary minds. The piety of his poetry is far more Christian than that
of Wordsworth. It is in all his feelings, all his thoughts, all his
imagery; and at the close of most of his beautiful compositions, which
are so often avowals, confessions, prayers, thanksgivings, we feel, not
the moral, but the religion of his song. He "improves" all the
"occasions" of this life, because he has an "eye that broods on its own
heart;" and that heart is impressed by all lights and shadows, like a
river or lake whose waters are pure--pure in their sources and in their
course. He is, manifestly, a man of the kindliest home-affections; and
these, though it is to be hoped the commonest of all, preserved to him
in unabated glow and freshness by innocence and piety, often give vent
to themselves in little hymns and ode-like strains, of which the rich
and even novel imagery shows how close is the connection between a pure
heart and a fine fancy, and th
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