s important. Let us consider how the case
stands with regard to books of devotion in _prose_.

We may own it reluctantly, but must it not be owned? that if two new
publications meet the eye at once, of which no more is known than that
the one is what is familiarly called _a good book_, the other a work
of mere literature, nine readers out of ten will take up the second
rather than the first? If this be allowed, whatever accounts for it
will contribute to account also for the comparative failure of
devotional poetry. For this sort of coldness and languor in the reader
must act upon the author in more ways than one. The large class who
write for money or applause will of course be carried, by the tide of
popularity, towards some other subject. Men of more sincere minds,
either from true or false delicacy, will have little heart to expose
their retired thoughts to the risk of mockery or neglect; and if they
do venture, will be checked every moment, like an eager but bashful
musician before a strange audience, not knowing how far the reader's
feelings will harmonize with their own. This leaves the field open, in
a great measure, to harder or more enthusiastic spirits; who offending
continually, in their several ways, against delicacy, the one by
wildness, the other by coarseness, aggravate the evil which they
wished to cure; till the sacred subject itself comes at last to bear
the blame due to the indifference of the reader and the indiscretion
of the writer.

Such, we apprehend, would be a probable account of the condition of
sacred poetry, in a country where religion was coldly acknowledged,
and literature earnestly pursued. How far the description may apply to
England and English literature, in their various changes since the
Reformation--how far it may hold true of our own times--is an inquiry
which would lead us too far at present; but it is surely worth
considering. It goes deeper than any question of mere literary
curiosity. It is a sort of test of the genuineness of those
pretensions, which many of us are, perhaps, too forward to advance, to
a higher state of morality and piety, as well as knowledge and
refinement, than has been known elsewhere or in other times.

Those who, in spite of such difficulties, desire in earnest to do good
by the poetical talent, which they may happen to possess, have only,
as it should seem, the following alternative. Either they must veil,
as it were, the sacredness of the subject--n