Thus it happens, that while Paul had many special friendships, Dante had but few. It is noticeable, in respect to the former, that he seems pre-eminent for the tenderness of his friendships. The man who had the weight of the Gentile church resting on his shoulders, could still find leisure to send tender greetings to Timothy, or words of advice to Titus, and the close of his epistles often shows the catholicity of his affections. It has been said that the kings live apart, and that the lion dwells alone; but it should be answered, that the seclusion of the king is the denial of human nature, and that the lion is not the symbol of our christian faith. The Goethe, who sits loftily in his audience chamber, to receive the homage of the Weimar Court, is not so noble as the impetuous boy who talked and laughed, and loved, beneath the humble roof of the country pastor. Our religion was to interpenetrate the human with the divine; and Paul shows who he is when he utters his divine sayings as the human brother. It is better to sit throned in the hearts of men, than to be the distant deity of a friendless heaven.

It is a difficult and perplexing task to estimate the relative or absolute value of the service which Dante and St. Paul have performed, because, in the case of one, our scale of valuation cannot reach high enough, and, in both, we are unable to fully comprehend the conditions under which they wrought. The great gift of Dante to the world is the Divine Comedy; and how shall we estimate its worth? It has found more than twelve hundred commentators, and yet the fulness of its meaning has not been exhausted. A civil war has raged for these several centuries, in the realm of literature, among the friends of the poem itself, as to what it means. How difficult to record a verdict that shall satisfy. It may be stated, generally, that as is the man so is the song he sings. There is the same pride, the same hate, the same earnest spirit, the same loftiness of insight, the same intensity of thought, that show themselves in the details of his outward life. Divine Comedy is a "kua iç aɛl;" a possession forever. Its theme is one of mystery and of terror, and it points us to that hereafter, over whose portal the stoutest traveller passes anxiously, and the faithless, with many fears. It has gifted with the melody of music the surpassing thoughts

The

of the Middle Ages, and is, what Tieck calls it, "a mystic, unfathomable song." In its hold upon its auditory, is evident its appeal to the deep sympathies of the soul, and its tale of the Untraversed will find listeners so long as there shall be a meaning in the terrors of hell, or the glories of heaven.

The Epistles of St. Paul contain in no slight measure the proof of what he was and did. As we consider their worth, silence seems befitting for a theme so high, and we therefore only cite the words of St. Chrysostom, spoken fourteen hundred years ago: "Paul, by his letters, still lives in the mouths of men throughout the whole world; by them, not only his own converts, but all the faithful unto this day, yea, and all the saints that are yet to be born until Christ's coming again, both have and shall be blessed."

It must be evident to the student of history, that in many ways the fortunes of both men were alike. Both were born into an age that demanded great powers and allowed lofty undertakings, and neither was found wanting; both had been wanderers over the earth; in the severe sojourn of life, both had been persistent unto the end; both had done great deeds, had known great sorrows, had fought great battles, and had lain down in a foreign grave; both have left their impress upon the age, but the influence of the apostle is more catholic than that of the poet. The Divine Comedy will be read so long as liberal learning, refined taste, and poetic sensibility shall be found. But it is a regal poem; fit chiefly for the kings to read. The Epistles, limitless in their scope, are for all men alike, and will find readers so long as a loving heart or a faithful spirit remains; for Paul spoke out of our common nature to the race; Dante from above us, to a fit audience though few. We name them both heroes and martyrs; but far apart stands he who wrought chiefly for himself, from him who travelled over the world, that the journey of life might be diviner for those who came after him. In a measure both men were conquerers, though Paul is by pre-eminence the victor. Both had been rendered "perfect through suffering" but Dante never quite raised himself out of the waves of sorrow that rolled over him, while Paul was cheerful to the very last. The life of Paul is a full suc

cess; that of Dante is perhaps a victory, but it is surely darkened by the shadows of a partial defeat. Guido encircles the brow of Dante with the laurel wreath, but underneath it is a care-worn, saddened face. On Paul's brow rests the Christian crown, and underneath are the features of the hero, bright with the reflected light of the

cross.

It may be said that we unjustly depress the fame of the poet, in order to elevate the apostle; but it should be answered that Paul is perhaps the noblest son of a church rich in noble men, and that Dante might be far below him, and yet worthy of our reverent esteem. Yet the one is to be reverenced, as from afar; the other is to be fellowshipped and loved.

The portrait that Guido painted is a calm, stern face, with lingering traces of fiery passions visible in it,—the countenance of a man who had been in hell." There is no portrait of the apostle Paul, save that which has been handed down in the traditions of a grateful church, yet his form stands boldly forth from the background of the ancient times. We recall "the fire-baptism" of that first Damascus journey; the voice, the darkened vision, the light of the accepted cross. We follow him as the first missionary of the universal church; gaining Christian victories over heathen doubters, with the sword of the spirit; and opposing the circumcision, with his gospel of universal brotherhood in Christ. We travel with him as he journeys through Asia Minor, and preaches of the risen Lord; as he stirs up licentious Ephesus with the message, Blesed are the pure in heart;" as he escapes by night from Damascus; as he is taken up as one dead after the Lystrians stoned him; as he stands on Mars Hill, and preaches in philosophic Athens the "unknown God;" as he rebukes the splendid sins of Corinth; as he braves the fury of Jewish zealots, in the "Holy City," declaring the Christ, whom with wicked hands they had crucified and slain; as he goes prisoner to Rome, the tempest-tossed and the shipwrecked; as he writes epistles to the brethren, from the imperial city. We watch this man, writing to the beloved Timothy, when now Demas had forsaken him, having loved this present world, and only Luke was with him; when he was now ready to be offered, and

the time of his departure was at hand-"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness." We see him as he is standing face to face with death, measuring the power of his adversaries and his own strength, calmly careless of the fearful odds arrayed against him, unwearied and undismayed, planting himself in battle array against all comers to the fight, and looking once again to the Christ that bent over him; with a spirit as free, and a courage as hopeful, as when in his early manhood he had fought the good fight through the cities of the east, he cries out to his disciples, from his prison-house at Rome, "I can do all things through Christ strengthening me." He is the Christian Leonidas, holding the guarded pass against the hostile hosts pressing forward to assault the citadel of our humanity, conquerer, though he dies sword in hand upon the spot where he had stood.

Dante is buried at Ravenna; and we can point to his grave and say, "Here he lies." The grave of St. Paul is unknown; and so in our uncertainty we allot to this mighty spirit the wide stretch of the world, spanned by the firmament of stars, with its incense of wafted cloud, and glitter of sun-light upon the sea, and voices of forest and river and wind, to be, in its immensity, his burial place.

N. H. C.

ART. XXVII.

The Lost Senses.

The Lost Senses. Deafness and Blindness. By John Kitto, D. D., F. S. A., author of the "Daily Bible Illustrations." Robert Carter & Brothers. New York. 1852.

THE historian, who shall worthily record the transactions of the present age, will assign no common place to those splendid achievements of philanthropy and science, which have wrought such beneficent results upon the condition.

of the deaf and the blind. Hitherto it has been thought impossible to render these classes of unfortunates any essential service; and they have accordingly, until comparatively a recent period, been consigned to ignorance and imbecility. If we reflect upon the human constitution, we find that man is dependent for his development, as well as most of his happiness, upon his external senses. It were vain to inquire, as did the philosophers of old, what would be the condition of that being who should be deprived of all his senses? We know full well, that though such a one might have a mere vegetative existence, he could not, in any sense of the word, be said to live. We assume therefore as granted, that we are dependent upon our senses for our intellectual and moral development, as well as for the sources of most of our happiness. It fol lows therefore, that if an individual be deprived of either of the five senses, his capacity for acquiring knowledge and receiving enjoyment is proportionally diminished. Thus much is at once perceived. But there arise other questions which are not so easily disposed of; such as:Can the want of one of the senses be made up by the increased activity of the others? Can knowledge be imparted to the mind in any other way than through those sovereign organs to which it is wont to be indebted for all its acquisitions? Are there any means by which it is possible to impart to one born deaf, any idea of sound? or, to one born blind, any idea of color? These and similar inquiries will naturally receive attention in this paper, which we propose to devote to some of the topics suggested by the book before us, rather than attempt any thing like an exhaustive criticism.

This admirable work is one of a series, issued by a society in England for the Dissemination of Useful Knowledge. It is, therefore, particularly adapted to the general reader. Nevertheless, its pages are replete with facts and thoughts eminently calculated to attract the attention of the philosophic mind. An additional interest is given to the work, from the fact that the author was himself, nearly the whole of his life, the subject of one of the privations of which it so ably treats. Indeed, by far the most interesting portion of that part devoted to deafness, is that in which the author records his own experiences. The introduc