Glory to thee, of kings the King!

Who hear'st a nation pray :-
To thee we glad hosannahs bring,
To crown our festal day.-
O! deign our Sov'reign to protect,
And lengthen out his years;
In wisdom his commands direct,
His enemies subdue, correct,

And banish all his fears :-
Still may his happiness increase,
His years roll on in joy and peace :
Each day new blessings bring :-
Still on this favour'd nation smile,
Preserve and bless fair Freedom's isle!
God save our gracious King!!!!

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Vindication of Lord Byron's Poetry.—On Anger.

as he traverses out of the record," in order to traduce the greatest poet of the age, silence would be criminal, as it might be mistaken for approbation.

When G. M. assures us that "the name of Byron is losing ground," hope has told him a flattering tale, but which is any thing rather than truc. If G. M. will inquire of his lordship's bookseller, Mr. Murray, he will find that the reverse of his assertion is the fact. The enormous sums paid for Lord Byron's productions, the high price at which they are sold, the eagerness with which they are bought, and the avidity and interest with which they are read, demonstrate, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that his muse is very highly estimated, and his poetry justly appreciated.

Ad

G. M.'s comparison of Lord Byron to "the fabled phoenix, kindling the flame that will consume him," is pretty; but unfortunately it has one trifling defect, it is not true. Surely G. M. knows that a comparison is no proof; and while facts are against him, his prediction of Lord Byron's declension resembles those of Baal's prophets,made only to be frustrated, and to recoil with ignominy on the seer. mitting, however, that a dire eclipse should overspread the nations, and a worse than Gothic darkness return, so that even a Byron should feel a temporary obscuration, his muse would then (according to G. M.'s own comparison,) resemble the phoenix; but it would be to rise from its ashes in order to be viewed with yet greater rapture, and to be hailed with still increasing delight.

For the brilliancy of Lord Byron's diction, for the corruscations of his genius, for the fire of his poetry, and occasionally for the flashes of his wit, as well as the mordacity of his sarcasm, his lordship has been justly termed by G. M's "master spirits of the times," the greatest poet of the present age, and of almost every other; and surely it is not in the power of any petty assailant to pluck the laurels from his

brow.

G. M. tells us that "much has been said to little purpose upon Wordsworth; and certainly G. M.'s letter forms an illustration of his remark. The character of Wordsworth was, some years ago, comprehensively summed up in the following line,

"The simple Wordsworth, pretty-spoken youth;'

812

and he has not belied the description. His mind, like the swallow, always sweeps the ground, and

"All who view the idiot in his glory,' Conceive the Bard the hero of the story." Should G. M. again write in favour of

This mild apostate from poetic rule, Who chimes his childish verse," I would remind him, that it is possible to storm a castle; while, for his conto defend a hovel, without attempting soiation, I would assure him, that, though Britain

"Feels a Homer's fire in Byron's strains,” yet that Wordsworth will be read when Homer, and Virgil, and Byron, are forgotten-but not till then.

ARISTARCHUS.

ON ANGER.

MR. EDITOR, SIR,-Should you deem the following remarks on Anger suitable for the Imperial Magazine, your insertion of them will oblige Your obedient servant, I. H-N. London, August 9th, 1821. ANGER is a passion of the most vioof the worst effects on the individual lent and irregular kind, and productive and on society. Like the other passions, when released from the control of reason, it is fierce and impetuous, disturbing the quiet of the soul, deranging those parts which ought to harmonize together, and introducing into it universal disorder and confudoes not always indicate so great a sion. Although where it exists, it degree of mental depravity, as those feelings which are of a sterner and more vindictive nature, still, by a it exerts a no less baneful influence frequent submission to its impulses, within. It is a common remark, that the passionate man, inimical as he is in his social capacity, is still more an enemy to himself; for while he is inflicting pain on the breasts of others, he is doubly wounding his own. No one from whose mind right principles are not entirely obliterated, can give way to an irritable disposition, without at the very same time feeling uneasy; and subsequently, when the inward tumult has subsided, and reason resumes her proper position, being filled with shame and remorse.

ductions to evil, the power of the Besides, as is the case with all se

813

Anger.-Origin and Nature of Human Knowledge.

temptation to irritability increases, by not being at first firmly and vigorously resisted; till what appeared only in the light of an occasional infirmity, acquires all the force and frequency of a confirmed habit. The moral energies of the soul are hereby weakened, its | means of resistance diminished, and accordingly, a total unfitness ensues for a proper and uniform course of action. The evils which the exhibition of this temper creates in society are exceedingly obvious. The malignity and extent of its effects will be proportioned to the rank and power of the man who is under its influence; for the place he holds in the scale of society, the more extended will be the impression arising from his example, and the greater his facilities for affording vent to his passions. The world has often groaned under the sad scenes of slaughter and desolation, occasioned by the malice as well as the ambition of the great; and the hopes and comfort of millions have been extinguished through the capricious and lawless violence of a single individual.

814

in the breast, it is impossible to affix a limit to its destructive operation, which, like the resistless sweep of a mountain torrent, bears away all that opposes its progress, and spreads devastation and dismay all around. This is no exaggerated picture of this unhappy temper; and although we readily admit its frequent prevalence in such as are not altogether destitute of virtuous sentiments, but, on the contrary, possess many amiable traits of character, still it must be confessed, that wherever its existence can be traced, it is of itself sufficient to throw a veil of obscurity over the fairest natural and acquired graces. Much may be done to subdue the risings of anger, by exercising a vigorous and constant habit of self-government, and by yielding to the sober suggestions of reason. But the most powerful assistances in this point of duty, must be derived from religion. Its precept instilled into the heart, will, through divine grace, soften the asperities of human nature, and attune the whole round of conflicting passions into unity and love.

ON THE ORIGIN AND NATURE OF HO-
MAN KNOWLEDGE RESPECTING GOD
AND DIVINE THINGS.

(Continued from col. 668.)

It would be happy for mankind, were the indulgence of this odious passion, with its train of disastrous consequences, confined to those who occupy elevated stations; but it is to be lamented, that it pervades all classes of the community. It is one of those strong marks of original corruption which characterize the whole species. The passionate man, of a middle or CALVIN very justly observes, that "the inferior condition, becomes, within things that are seen were made to be his narrow sphere, no less tyrannical as a glass or image of the things that than he whose frown inspires whole are unseen.' And the same sentimultitudes with terror. His family ment has been expressed in a variety circle, which ought to be the seat of of forms by many writers of considermutual harmony and confidence, exhi- able celebrity. The poet seems to have bits little else than trembling distrust had a glimpse of this truth, when he and jarring contention; and that home, inquired, "Say who can tell, but things to which the eye naturally turns with on earth, and things in heaven, are the tenderest and most delightful feel- each to other like, more than on earth ings, is rendered an object repulsive is thought?" It has, however, a highand disgusting. In passing through er origin, it fell from the pen of inspithis world, we must necessarily meet ration. Romans, i. 10. is thus parawith persons and events which de- phrased by the great and good Richard mand from us the exercise of patience Baxter. "For though God and heaand forbearance; and he who suffers venly things be invisible, even his not his tranquillity to be ruffled by eternal power and godhead, yet are petty provocations, will be most likely they to be clearly seen in the glass of to meet great injuries and misfortunes his works." And 1 Corinthians, xiii. with equanimity. Anger in private, 12. he interprets as follows: as well as in public life, has often given our knowledge now in this body is by rise to deeds at which humanity shud- imperfect media, as we see things in ders, and nature recoils. When once a glass, and know by riddles, and pait is permitted to gain the ascendancy rables, or similitudes; but then we

"For

815

Human Knowledge.-Observations on Liverpool.

shall know, as men that see each others' face, by intuition. Now we know but little parts, and outsides, and accidents of things, and nothing adequately; but then we shall know, in the world of spirits, as those spirits now know us, which is better than we know ourselves." On this passage, Parkhurst is more precise and expressive. "Now," says he, "in this life, we see by means of a mirror, reflecting the images of heavenly and spiritual things; invisible being represented by visible; spiritual, by natural; eternal, by temporal: but then, in the eternal world, face to face; every thing being seen in itself, and not by means of a representative or similitude."

816

at the conduct of the mind in its attempts to apprehend them, will confirm the general truth contained in the sacred volume. Between language and thought there is a close connexion, and as all our ideas are originally derived through the medium of the senses, so all primitive terms have a physical origin. We have not a double set of terms, one to express natural, and the other intellectual objects; and as all mental combinations, made in conceiving of invisible or intangible things, have some reference to our original sensations, so the terms primarily used as signs of natural objects, and subsequently adapted to spiritual, have, in every change they undergo, some allusion to their original appropriation. And as there is no way to teach that of which men are ignorant, but by means of something already known; so, in revealing to them the sublime realities of the spiritual world, it was necessary to employ terms with which they were already acquainted; and thus by comparing things unseen with things seen, by likening spiritual to corporeal things, as may express them best," to bring them, in some measure, within the view of dim-sighted man. This method runs through the whole of the sacred pages.

(To be continued.)

OBSERVATIONS, HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE, RESPECTING LIVERPOOL. (Continued from col. 658.)

From the preceding quotations, it appears, that the scriptures inculcate this doctrine, that our knowledge of the heavenly world is not direct, but analogical; and our notions of its objects may be very properly denominated analogical notions. It is the universality of your correspondent's proposition that is denied. That some of our notions of spiritual things are negative, must be admitted: but the greater part of them are not so; they belong to the class of notions termed by the metaphysicians, general notions. In conceiving of spiritual things, the mind generally proceeds upon a consciousness or persuasion that they bear a remote analogy to natural things; it supposes a resemblance between them in certain points; and hence things directly known are employed as representatives or similitudes of objects which lie beyond the narrow sphere THE MARKETS of Liverpool are seof tact and vision. And whatever veral; and all are well supplied with degree of imperfection may be sup- every thing necessary for the accomposed to attach to this kind of know-modation of man, and with all the ledge, it is certainly superior to merely knowing things negatively. It is indeed the highest kind of knowledge that the human mind, in its present state, is capable of acquiring of spiritual things, as it is sufficient for the purposes of our present existence. When this mortal shall have put on immortality, then, indeed, instead of beholding these things through a dark-lighted, and is sufficiently airy. The ened mirror, with faculties adapted to their sublime nature, we shall discern them without a medium.

A partial examination of the language employed in the sacred writings, to bring spiritual things to the level of our capacities; and a slight glance

luxuries of life. Among the marketplaces the principal ones are Castlestreet, Islington, Cleveland-square, St. James's-place, and Pownal-square. Not far from Clayton-square, a new market-house is now erecting on an extensive scale. It is upwards of 500 feet in length, and of a proportionable breadth. It is all under cover, is well

roof, which extends over this vast area, is supported by cast-iron pillars, so that those who visit this spot, either to buy or sell, will be sheltered from the inclemencies of winter, and the intense heat of summer. Of this market-place, scarcely a town in Eng