The genius
of this book is religious, and reaches an extraordinary depth of
sentiment. The author, plainly a man of a pure and kindly temper,
casts himself into the state of the high and transcendental obedience
to the inward Spirit. He has apparently made up his mind to follow
all its leadings, though he should be taxed with absurdity or even
with insanity. In this enthusiasm he writes most of these verses,
which rather flow through him than from him. There is no
_composition_, no elaboration, no artifice in the structure of the
rhyme, no variety in the imagery; in short, no pretension to literary
merit, for this would be departure from his singleness, and followed
by loss of insight. He is not at liberty even to correct these
unpremeditated poems for the press; but if another will publish them,
he offers no objection. In this way they have come into the world,
and as yet have hardly begun to be known. With the exception of the
few first poems, which appear to be of an earlier date, all these
verses bear the unquestionable stamp of grandeur. They are the
breathings of a certain entranced devotion, which one would say,
should be received with affectionate and sympathizing curiosity by
all men, as if no recent writer had so much to show them of what is
most their own.
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