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the fair famc of Mr John Ambrose him) on one subordinate particular, Williams, Mr Brougham and the un- and with much confidence of manner, known Reviewer.
and fresh scurrility of language, triThat this Reviewer may reinain un- umphed over my supposed misappreknown, is my very earnest wish. I hension of a point of law. Here, too, seek to despise no man. But whether he was defeated : his ignorance of the the Reviewer remain unknown or not, law was exposed, as his less venial it is time that the Editor of the Re- practices had been detected before. view should feel
Having done this, I addressed the (“ As feel he will, Editor of the Review, in terms of forIf damned custom have not brazed him so, bearance, perhaps I might say of That he is proof and bulwark against courtesy,* on the just grounds of comsense,”)
plaint which I might urge against that he may not with impunity persist himself. After an interval of three in giving circulation to these foul and years, being again assailed in the same unmanly calumnies. A man of ho- Journal with equal grossness, and, as nour, conducting a Review, would feel I have proved, with equal falsehood, I himself bound, by the strongest ties, now tell the Editor, before the world, to protect from all gross insult (it that on him will light all the ignowould be chilelish to weigh these mat- miny of this second outrage. I tell ters in very nice scales) those whose him, too, that he would rather bave only protection against the petulance, foregone half the profits of his unhalor the malignity, of his underlings, lowed trade, than have dared to launch must rest on his honour. If, by in- against any one of his Brethren of the advertence, any thing false, unjust, or Gown the smallest part of that scurculpably offensive to the feelings of an rility, which he has felt no scruple in individual, should for once have crept circulating against Churchmen. into his Journal, at least he would be To you, Sir, I make no apology for anxious to prevent all recurrence of addressing you on this occasion. If the injury. Has such been the con- you are not, what the public voice duct of the Editor of this Review? proclaiins you to be, the Editor of the An article was published in his 64th Review, you will thank me for thus Number, reflecting in the coarsest giving you an opportunity publicly to terms on my character. I answered disclaim the degrading title. If you that article, by proving the wilful are, it is henceforth to me a matter of falsehood of its main allegations, and mere indifference, what such a person at the same time called on the author may think or say. I am, Sir, &c. to defend his own veracity: Under
HENRY PHILLPOTTọ. that challenge he sate down in silence. He seized, indeed, (or some one for Stanhope, 30th Dec. 1822.
[Our readers will, we are assured, be much more obliged to us for giving them the entire Letter of Dr Phillpotts, than an article of our own on the “ Durham Case.” We had prepared such an article; and perhaps we may yet lay it before the public ;-for it is evident that the Edinburgh Review has joined “The Unholy Alliance.” But in this contest we shall take a firm and
*16 Before I conclude, I will add one word to the Editor of the Review.
6 That he is answerable for all that appears in it, will not be disputed. He is a man of high and (I doubt not) merited reputation, a man of honour and of liberal feelings. Let me then calmly remind him of the discreditable light, in which he is exhibited by this discussion. He appears in it as a willing instrument to give currency to the base effusions of another man's malignity: he has allowed his Journal, professing to discharge the duties of fair and equal criticism, to be made the vehicle of wilful mis-statements, and of the most glaring injustice ; he has permitted gross personal insults to be offered under the sanction his authority, to one, whose profession, and, I will add, whose character, would have protected him from all indignity at the hands of an honourable or mạnly opponent.
" Whether Mr Jeffrey finds any disgrace in all this, is a matter of much more importance to him, than it can be to me. See Remarks on a Nole in the Edinburgh Review, No. LXV.
decided part, and let the enemies of religion, and of religious establishments, look to themselves. Meanwhile we cannot conclude better than by copying the following excellent remarks by our friend Dr Stoddart :
“ The slight castigation we inflicted on the article in The Edinburgh Revierd, entitled Clerical Abuses,' was but the prelude to a most severe punishment which the author has since received from a far more powerful pen. The Rev. Dr Phillpotts has published a " Letter to Francis Jeffrey, Esq.” which, if the author of the article has not a hide tougher than the seven-fold shield of Ajax, must cut him to the bone. He first disposes of the theological matter which the unfortunate Critic was so ill-advised as to introduce into his Review ; and he shews that, in pretending to talk about the doctrines of the Church of England, the Reviewer has shewn an ignorance which would disgrace a catechumen of ten years old in a country parish. Every syllable that this polemical journal has ventured about Transubstantiation, the Real Presence, and the power of Absolution, is proved to be a blunder of the grossest magnitude. Then, what he says of Bishops BURNET and BUTLER, is at woful variance with history. His censures on the amiable and excellent Bishop of London, which we had before noticed, are next exposed with still greater force. And, after disposing of the introductory matter, Dr Phillpotts refutes the calumnies against himself and the Durham Clergy, by an exposition of the real state of the case, which leaves the Reviewers without the shadow of an excuse for one of the most intemperate, and, at the same time, most unfounded attacks ever made on the Church.”— New Times, January 10, 1823.]
THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS.
The subject of this poem, when first cient to satisfy the heart, they are easily it rises up dimly and distantly before transmuted into emotions of pure imaus, seems to be at once so brightened gination, and perhaps are never found and shadowed with thoughts and feel- to exist but in such alliance. Those ings, both human and divine, so richly ages, therefore, seem to be the very dooverspread with the perishable ground- main of pure poetry. flowers of earth, and so magnificently With regard to the Loves of Angels canopied with the imagery of heaven, with the human race, it is of no mothat before we have formed any very ment, in a merely poetical view, whedistinct conception of what may be ther or not they are scriptural. Of the “ The Loves of the Angels,” we are nature of such beings, Scripture tells happy to hail them as a beautiful us nothing; but our minds are so fratheme for the creations of genius. med as to conceive of them, and to enEvery thing antediluvian is poetical. dow them with attributes. Whether The food washed away a world froin we endeavour to raise up our thoughts life into imagination. Its universal wa- from earth to heaven, or to bring them ters yet divide us from the younger down imperceptibly from heaven to years of the earth. Our generations earth, our minds do of themselves conseem to be from Noah ; but Adam was ceive the image of intermediate intelthe father of the Races that sinned be- ligences between man and God, to which fore the ark rested upon Ararat. Our we give a mixed terestrial and celeshuman sympathies are still with the tial nature. Such beings seem to bechildren of them who lived in Para- long to our own race, because like us dise; and from Cain and Abel we fol- they are created ; but they seem not to low them, wheresoever they go, on the belong to our race, because their birthwidening circle of inhabitation over the place was in heaven, and their dwelling new fields of the earth. But then these round the throne of the Deity. It is human sympathies which we feel, be- easy, therefore, and delightful, for any cause we are all one kind, are idealized imagination to think of such creatures towards objects in that wild remote- hanging between Heaven and earth, ness; and being of themselves insuffi- and partaking, if not of human pas
• The Loves of the Angels ; a Poem. · By Thomas Moore. London, printed for Longman, Hurst, Recs, Ormc, and Brown, Paternoster-Row. 1823.
sions, at least of those human affections Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch which are in their purity the most Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led,
His nearly resembling divine. Whatever eye surveyed the dark idolatries may be attributable to tradition, it is Of alienated sudah.” not possible to suppose the human
The Loves of the Angels with wosoul, during its sojourn here, not for
men were not suited to Milton's spirit; ming to itself such visions, which seem
and accordingly, in his eleventh book, inseparable from its consciousness of he gives his interpretation of that Text.
" For that fair female troop thou saw'st, a divine origin and an immortal des
that seem'd tiny.
Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, Now, if this be the kind of ima
Yet empty of all good, wherein consists ginative thought in which we wil
Woman's domestic honour and chief praise, lingly allow the existence of such be
Bred only and completed to the taste ings, it is obvious, that if they are to Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance, be made the subjects of poetry, they To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the must be preserved in the full beauty or eye. majesty of their angelic character. This To these that sober race of men, whose lives Milton has in general done; and in Religious titled them the sons of God, Paradise Lost, we desiderate nothing,
Shall yield up all their virtue, all their
fame, except when the mighty poet ventures to ascend from his angels, fallen or un
Ignobly to the trains and to the smiles
Of these fair atheists; and now swim in fallen, to their Creator. Then Milton
joy, himself is struck with a blacker blind.
Ere long to swim at large; and laugh, for ness than that which had veiled his
which “ visual orbs ;” and his poetry is at an The world, ere long, a world of tears must end.
weep.” But Milton spoke of angels in their But although Milton's genius put own world—not in ours-unless when away from itself the image of Angels sent on missions of love or anger to our mixing in human loves, such an image parents in Paradise. Had he ever may yet be brought home to another written about the power and dominion heart; and there does not seem any given to angels over the races of men, thing incongruous, or worse than inwe know from that sublime passage in congruous, in divine beings, of limitthe First Book of his great poem, in ed intelligence, and liable to sin like what spirit it would have been concei- ourselves, being overcome by the beauved.
ty of creatures different from them in " For those the race of Israel oft forsook much, but made alınost one and the Their living Strength, and unfrequented same by common infirmities and parleft
ticipated guilt. His righteous altar, bowing lowly down The subject, therefore, we conceive, To bestial gods ; for which their heads as is legitimate ; but it is one to be malow
naged with extreme skill, and with the Bow'd down in battle, sunk before the spear
native awe of a high mind, conscious Of despicable foes. With these in troop
at all times of the unapproachable Came Astoreth, whom the Phænicians call'd Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent
sanctity of that Nature which created horns ;
all things, both men and angels, heaven To whose bright image nightly by the moon
and earth. If there be any want of Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs;
such awe in the poet's mind, then he In Sion also not unsung, where stood will be in danger every moment of Her temple on the offensive mountain, built dashing our delight-of awakening in By that uxorious king, whose heart, though our souls an insupportable sense of the large,
violation of holiness and almost a saBeguiled by fair idolatresses, fell
cred horror of advancing our most To idols foul. Thammuz came next be- earthly thoughts into the presence of hind,
the Most High. Milton spoke of the Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian dạmsels to lament his fate,
creation and the fall of man, and he In amorous ditties all a summer day ;
shewed us the human soul standing While smooth Adonis from his native rock before God. Adam and Eve are oura Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood selves-Humanity. In them, all that Of Thammuz yearly wounded. The love have ever lived, or will live on earth, * tale
are exhibited. Therefore Milton's poem Infected Sion's daughters with the heat ; inspircs us with a holy dread. If Mr.
Moore's Loves of the Ang ton has spoken of angels, can we not feeling and knowing when he is most turn from him to the voice of Moore? blindly and presumptuously bringing If we do, we must at least prepare our- himself and the creatures of his own selves for a great change.
earthly fancy into the presence of God, Now, we say this, with many feel- then whatever excuses we may find ings of love and admiration of Moore's for himself, it is impossible not to be genius. But bright and beautiful as shocked by his words; and we lay that genius is, we have no doubt that down the book in a painful wonder, how most of our readers will agree with us so fine and even powerful a mind as in thinking, that it ought to keep to Mr Moore's should be so fatally and this earth. Mr Moore possesses fancy, infatuatedly blind, deaf, and insensisensibility, warmth of feeling, grace, ble to that voice, which in all humàn elegance, ingenuity, even passion and hearts humbly whispers to us to bow imagination. But of all highly-en- down in fear before our Creator. The dowed and richly-gifted minds we have constant approach which Mr Moore's ever known, his seems most hopelessly mind makes, if not in its very lightest, bound down to this earth by the chains at least in some of its most worthless of the senses. We do not now unge moods, to the name and to our ideas of nerously allude to his early poems; the being of the Deity, must strike for Mr Moore is not now, as he once every heart with horror. A Greek or a was, a mere gloating sensualist. But Roman spoke with more real reverence his mind is, nevertheless, even in its of Jove, than this poet does of God. We most pure creations, the slave of animal repeat, that such shocking impiety is beauty. The most soul-felt delights manifestly unintentional. But intenof his men, his women, and his angels, tional impiety is not credible at all; either trespass upon, or terminate in, and Mr Moore's sin lies in that state of some kind of passionate desires. If our his soul that could so image to itself its senses be the source of all our know- Creator and Judge. No such shockledge and of all our feelings, in the ing familiarity is to be found anywhere poetry of Mr Moore the soul is never that we know of out of the prose rasuffered to roam far from the source of vings of ignorant religious enthusiasts all her powers ; earthly food is conti- or madmen. Theirs being really what nually administered to her divinest as- they seem to be, the ravings of insani. pirations; and although, in the midst ty, are pitiable and melancholy; but of much beauty, and brightness, and Mr Moore's familiarities with his Mabalm, and music, we may not feel our ker assume the appearance of cold natures absolutely degraded or deba- glittering conceits, and the impertised, yet, most assuredly, when we re- nences of a bad taste. His object seems flect on what we have been reading, to be to make his poem pretty, and his the soul itself seems to have been re- piety has a regard to the Row; in his presented as a delicate material sub-adoration, he never loses sight of his stance, capable of being breathed over bargain with Longinan, Hurst, Rees, by delight, and coloured with gorgeous Orme, &c.; and he is anxious, when hues, but after all a vessel of clay, he writes of heaven, that his lines and if not broken in pieces before our should he polished to the satisfaction eyes, yet felt to be fragile, a toy of of Mr Jeffrey. chance, rather than a work of wisdom. Now, this light and airy, and ofter Mortality is the essence of it all, what- utterly indifferent way of approaching ever Mr Moore may say to the contra- the most awful subjects, is exhibited i ry. Vapours, bubbles, clouds, are all almost every page of the poem. Neve beautiful- -so are most of his perish- once does Mr Moore speak as he oug able thoughts.
to do, when coming near such idea The first great and insuperable ob- Each passage by itself is bad enough jection, therefore, to Mr Moore's but the continuous strain of the who
Loves of the Angels,” is one which composition is utterly destructive may subject him to nothing short of a all true religious thoughts. Nay, charge of blasphemy. We bring no have no hesitation in saying, that such eharge against him. But, amia- the least religious mind now existi ble, pure, and reverent, as he no doubt in Britain, provided it have any c believed his motives to be in writing tivation at all, this poem will prod these verses, yet if the constitution of an offensive effect, by the mere viole his mind besuch as to prevent him from which its intended piety and uninte
ed impiety will do to its taste and to 6. “That very moment her whole frame its sense of fitness. For even an atheist All bright and glorified became, must have an idea of Omnipotence; And at her back I saw unclose and his intellectual nature will be
Two wings, magnificent as those shocked by the application to it of small
That sparkle round the Eternal Throne.” paltry words and sentences, and of 7.“ Most holy vision! ne'er before imagery so meanly disproportionate to
Did aught so radiant_since the day that illimitable vastness. Yet, all the When Lucifer, in falling, bore while, Mr Moore himself writes away
The third of their bright stars awayhis sparkling sentences with the same Rise, in earth's beauty, to repair apparent air of unsuspecting sincerity That loss of light and glory there !" of worship that we might expect to 8. “ You both remember well the day see in a poetaster, at the court of a
When unto Eden's new-made bowers, inortal monarch, lavishing eulogies on He, whom all living things obey, the greatness of his character, the dia
Summond his chief angelic powers monds of his crown, and the extent of To witness the one wonder yet, Iris dominions.
Beyond man, angel, star, or sun, Let the following examples suffice.
He must achieve, ere he could set
His seal upon the world, as done 1. “ Creatures of light, such as still play, To see that last perfection rise, Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
That crowning of creation's birth, And through their infinite array
When, mid the worship and surprise Transmit each moment, night and day,
Of circling angels, WOMAN'S EYES The echo of His luminous word !”
FIRST OPEN'D UPON HEAVEN
AND EARTH!!!!” 2. “ The First who spoke was one, with look
9. “ Can you forget her blush, when round The least celestial of the three
Through Eden's lone, enchanted ground A Spirit of light mould, that took
She look'd-and at the sease the skies The prints of earth most yieldingly ;
And heard the rush of many a wing, Who, ey'n in heaven, was not of those By God's command then vanishing,
Nearest the Throne, but held a place And saw the last few angel eyes, Far off, among those shining rows
Still lingering—mine among the rest,That circle out through endless space, Reluctant leaving scene so blest ?” And o'er whose wings the light from Him
10. “ Whate'er I did, or dream'd, of In the great centre falls most dim.”
felt, 3. “ Well I remember by her side
The thought of what might yet befall
That splendid creature mix'd with all.Sitting at rosy even-tide, When,--turning to the star, whose head
Nor she alone, but her whole race Look'd out, as froni a bridal bed,
Through ages yet to come—whate'er At that mute, blushing hour,—she said,
Of feminine, and fond, and fair, Oh! that it were my doom to be
Should spring from that pure mind and The Spirit of yon beauteous star,
face, Dwelling up there in purity,
All wak'd my soul's intensest care ; Alone, as all such bright things are ;
Their forms, souls, feelings, still to me
God's most disturbing mystery!”
11. “ No, it was wonder, such as thrill'd And fling its fire towards the shrine
At all God's works my dazzled sense ; Of Him in heaven, the Eternal One !?” The same rapt wonder, only fill’d.
With passion, more profound, intense, 4. " That very night-my heart had grown A vehement, but wandering fire,
Impatient of its inward burning ; Which, though nor love nor yet desire, The term, too, of my stay was flown, And the bright Watchers near the throne. Though through all womankind it took
Its range, as vague as lightnings run,
Yet wanted but a touch, a look, 5. 66 There was a virtue in that scene, To fix it burning upon One! ! !"
A spell of holiness around, Which would have had my brain not 12. “ I had beheld their First, their Eve been
Born in that splendid Paradise, Thus poison'd, madden'd-held me Which God made solely to receive bound,
The first light of her waking eyes ! ! ! As though I stood on God's own ground. I had seen purest angels lean Ev'n as it was, with soul all flame,
In worship o'er her from above; And lips that burn'd in their own sighs," And man- oh yes, had envying scen &c.
Proud man possess'd of all her love !"