I am no friend of polemical writing, and I believe the less we see of it in your friendly periodical, the better it is; but still I must protest against such copying of partially-written judgments, when good information can be got.  I say not by stretching out a hand, for the book was already opened by your correspondent—­but alone by using one’s eyes and turning over a leaf or two.  Else, why did HERMES learn the Dutch language?  I ask your subscribers if the following verses are weak, and if they would not have done honour to the English Vondel?

CHORUS OF ANGELS.

(From Lucifer.)

“Who sits above heaven’s heights sublime,
Yet fills the grave’s profoundest place,
Beyond eternity, or time,
Or the vast round of viewless space: 
Who on Himself alone depends—­
Immortal—­glorious—­but unseen—­
And in his mighty being blends
What rolls around or flows within. 
Of all we know not—­all we know—­
Prime source and origin—­a sea,
Whose waters pour’d on earth below
Wake blessing’s brightest radiancy. 
’Tis power, love, wisdom, first exalted
And waken’d from oblivion’s birth;
Yon starry arch—­yon palace, vaulted—­
Yon heaven of heavens, to smile on earth. 
From his resplendent majesty
We shade us ’neath our sheltering wings,
While awe-inspired, and tremblingly
We praise the glorious King of Kings,
With sight and sense confused and dim;
O name—­describe the Lord of Lords,
The seraph’s praise shall hallow Him;—­
Or is the theme too vast for words?”

RESPONSE.

“’Tis God! who pours the living glow
Of light, creation’s fountain-head: 
Forgive the praise—­too mean and low—­
Or from the living or the dead. 
No tongue thy peerless name hath spoken,
No space can hold that awful name;
The aspiring spirit’s wing is broken;—­
Thou wilt be, wert, and art the same! 
Language is dumb.  Imagination,
Knowledge, and science, helpless fall;
They are irreverent profanation,
And thou, O God! art all in all. 
How vain on such a thought to dwell! 
Who knows Thee—­Thee the All-unknown? 
Can angels be thy oracle,
Who art—­who art Thyself alone? 
None, none can trace Thy course sublime,
For none can catch a ray from Thee,
The splendour and the source of time—­
The Eternal of eternity. 
Thy light of light outpour’d conveys
Salvation in its flight elysian,
Brighter than e’en Thy mercy’s rays;
But vainly would our feeble vision
Aspire to Thee.  From day to day
Age steals on us, but meets thee never;
Thy power is life’s support and stay—­
We praise thee, sing thee, Lord! for ever.”

CHORUS.

    “Holy, holy, holy!  Praise—­
       Praise be His in every land;
     Safety in His presence stays;
       Sacred is His high command!”