ests, mad-houses, prisons,
enemies, vanish; they are temporary and shall be no more seen."

* * * * *

It may be remembered that Calvin, in his Commentary on the New
Testament, stopped when he came to the book of the "Revelation." He
found it full of difficulties which he did not care to encounter. Yet,
considered only as a poem, the vision of St. John is full of noble
imagery and wonderful beauty. "Nature" is the Book of Revelation of our
Saint Radulphus. It has its obscurities, its extravagances, but as a
poem it is noble and inspiring. It was objected to on the score of its
pantheistic character, as Wordsworth's "Lines composed near Tintern
Abbey" had been long before. But here and there it found devout readers
who were captivated by its spiritual elevation and great poetical
beauty, among them one who wrote of it in the "Democratic Review" in
terms of enthusiastic admiration.

Mr. Bowen, the Professor of Natural Theology and Moral Philosophy
in Harvard University, treated this singular semi-philosophical,
semi-poetical little book in a long article in the "Christian Examiner,"
headed "Transcendentalism," and published in the January number for
1837. The acute and learned Professor meant to deal fairly with his
subject. But if one has ever seen a sagacious pointer making the
acquaintance of a box-tortoise, he will have an idea of the relations
between the reviewer and the reviewed as they appear in this article.
The professor turns the book over and over,--inspects it from plastron
to carapace, so to speak, and looks for openings everywhere, sometimes
successfully, sometimes in vain. He finds good writing and sound
philosophy, passages of great force and beauty of expression, marred by
obscurity, under assumptions and faults of style. He was not, any more
than the rest of us, acclimated to the Emersonian atmosphere, and after
some not unjust or unkind comments with which many readers will heartily
agree, confesses his bewilderment, saying:--

"On reviewing what we have already said of this singular work, the
criticism seems to be couched in contradictory terms; we can only
allege in excuse the fact that the book is a contradiction in
itself."

Carlyle says in his letter of February 13, 1837:--

"Your little azure-colored 'Nature' gave me true satisfaction. I
read it, and then lent it about to all my acquaintances that had a
sense for such things; from