The lady who makes her appearance is no other than Angelica-so well known to the readers of epic romance. The

Angelica heals all his wounds. cure is effected by the mingled efforts of magic, and chirurgery, and love; and the lady whose love was sought by so many, "baptised and infidel❞—who was the admiration of the courts of Europe, and Asia, and Africa-is won by this young knight, who has no other claim than that, which his devoted affection gives. With the assistance of a peasant, whom accident had led thi ther, Angelica removes the wounded warrior, but not till he has fulfilled his pious duties to his lord; and the solitary retreat to which he is brought is soon taught to echo the name of his mistress. The scene is beautifully painted, and interposes seasonable relief to the reader, who is probably dazzled and confused by the perpetual

glitter and din of arms. Of Angelica our readers have heard before, in our accounts of the Innamorato and the Furioso, which, with Tasso, we feel obliged to consider as one poem. We wish that we had time to exhibit proofs of the delight with which Milton read those stories-a knowledge of which is almost necessary, in order to understand many passages of the "Paradise." Most of our readers will remember the wonderful picture in the "Paradise Regained," describing the war of the Parthians against the Scythians. After a description, in which the great poet lavishes imagery derived from a thousand sources, he rests in that which the romance of chivalry had suggested to his youthful imagination, and dwells with affectionate recollection on the Italian poets, and the beautiful creation of their Angelica, whom all beheld with love.

ADVOCATES of the Church of Rome have, of late years, recommended, with much industry and some address, a theory by which they hope to render the novelties of their creed defensible

-the theory of "development." They insist that, as their church was designed to endure to the end of time, it must have been endued with power and aptitude to change its aspect as times and circumstances altered; and that the truths of which it was originally appointed the guardian, must also have had within them germs of accommodation to the varied and progressively complicating necessities of human society. Assuming this principle as established or conceded, Roman Catholic controversialists have claimed its protection and support for certain doctrines of their church, which in the light of the present century they dare not attempt to defend by the authority of Scripture, or the evidence of primitive antiquity.

We have sometimes noticed arguments of this kind, and felt half provoked to attempt the exposure of them. On reflection, however, we forbore, not from the difficulty of the undertaking, but because, in the writings where we saw them most ably sustained, there appeared to us a spirit of levity, which sported with things in which it had no real faith, rather than a grave and earnest purpose to establish truth; and we thought that serious reasoning employed in the refutation of sophisms so idle and wanton, if it had any other effect than that of being laughed at, could be effective only in giving permanence and a semblance of reality to speculations which should be regarded bus as fantasies of an idle hour. The idea that the Romish inventions of times comparatively modern might not merely claim countenance from truths divinely revealed, but were actually part and parcel, and that, too, the best part of those primeval revelations, appeared to us too bold an effort of fancy to be for any length of time regarded as any thing but a startling paradox; and although we saw that certain of our own divines had taken

it up to play with, we thought that they, too, would soon weary of its absurdity, and that we might, without any degree of painful impatience await the hour when it would cease to engage or amuse.

We do not regret our forbearance. It is not without its use to let folly have free course until it has "developed" its true genius-and such a development we have in Mr. Newman's recent work. Had we the power to protect that gentleman from his lapse into grievous error, we should bitterly regret the not having exerted it; but conscious as we are that our persuasions and arguments could have no influence over a mind like his, we find consolation for his, we would hope temporary, departure from the faith, in the exposure he has been overruled to give, of the nature of those influences or sophistries by which he has been led astray.

We think it necessary to premise, that in our observations on Mr. Newman's argument and conduct, we shall confine ourselves strictly within the limits of his recent revelations. There

We

might be an advantage derived from going back to former works of this versatile and unstable man, and comparing them with his last production. We desire no such advantage. would more gladly take Mr. Newman at his best-in his own showing-in the robes in which he has presented himself for his second baptism; and judge of him by the valedictory volume which comes forth, an apology or an admonition to the Church and faith he was in the act of renouncing or betraying-a tributary offering to the Church before which he desires to lay down the distinguishing prerogative of man, that of exercising the faculties and fulfilling the duties of a being endowed with reason.

These latter duties, indeed, do not appear to have been rated highly in Mr. Newman's judgment. It is not very long since he published a retractation of certain charges he had made against the Church of Rome, and which he acknowledges having made,

not because he was convinced of their truth, but because he found or thought that there was a convenience in making them. A confession of this kind gives a useful insight into character. The man who abuses himself to circulate calumny for any indirect advantage, can seldom rise to the dignity of truth, and cannot complain that he has become an object of suspicion and distrust. The reader shall judge how far Mr. Newman has placed himself in this humiliating position. We are at liberty to cite from his retractation, because he has reprinted it in an advertisement prefixed to his "Essay on the Development," &c.

Some years since a retractation of his appeared in the public prints, which he is desirous of formally acknowledging here, and of preserving. It is as follows:

"It is true that I have at various times, in writing against the Roman system, used not merely arguments, about which I am not here speaking, but what reads like declamation.

"1. For instance, in 1833, in the Lyra Apostolica, I called it a Lost Church.'

"2. Also, in 1833, I spoke of the papal Apostasy,' in a work upon the Arians.

"3. In the same year, in No. 15, of the Series called the Tracts for the Times,' in which Tract the words are often mine, though I cannot claim it as a whole, I say

"True, Rome is heretical now.'

"4. In 1834, I said in a Magazine"The spirit of Old Rome has risen again in its former place, and has evidenced its identity by its works. It has possessed the Church there planted, as an evil spirit might seize the demoniacs of primitive times, and makes her speak words which are not her own. In the corrupt Papal system, we have the very cruelty, the craft, and the ambition of the Republic; its cruelty in its unsparing sacrifice of the happiness and virtue of individuals to a phantom of public expediency; in its forced celibacy within, and its persecutions without; its craft in its falsehoods, its deceitful deeds and lying wonders, and its grasping ambition in the very structure of its polity; in its assumption of universal dominion, Old Rome is still alive; no where have its eagles lighted, but it still claims the sovereignty under another pretence. The Roman Church I will not blame,

but pity-she is, as I have said, spellbound, as if by an evil spirit, she is in thraldom.'

"I say in the same paper—

"In the Book of Revelations, the sorceress upon the Seven Hills is not the Church of Rome, as is often taken for granted; but Rome itself, that bad spirit, which, in its former shape, was the animating principle of the fourth monarchy. In St. Paul's prophecy it is not the Temple or Church of God, but the man of sin in the Temple-the old man or evil principle of the flesh-which exalteth itself against God. Certainly it is a mystery of iniquity, and one which may well excite our dismay and horror, that in the very heart of the Church, in her highest dignity, in the seat of St. Peter, the evil principle has throned itself, and rules. It seems as if that spirit had gained subtlety by years. Popish Rome has succeeded to Rome Pagan; and would that we had no reason to expect still more crafty developments of Antichrist, amid the wreck of institutions and establishments which will attend the fall of the Papacy!'

.

"5. In 1834, I also used, of certain doctrines of the Church of Rome, the epithets unscriptural,' 'profane,' 'impious,' 'bold,' unwarranted,' 'blasphemous,' gross,' 'monstrous,' 'cruel,' administering deceitful comfort,' and ' unauthorised,' in Tract 38. I do not mean to say that I had not a definite meaning in every one of these epithets, or that I did not weigh them before I used them.

"Perhaps I have made other statements in a similar tone; and that, again, when the statements themselves were unexceptionable and true. If you ask me how an individual could venture, not simply to hold, but to publish such views of a communion so ancient, so wide-spreading, so fruitful in saints, I answer, that I said to myself, I am not speaking my own words, I am but following almost a consensus of the divines of my Church. They have ever used the strongest language against Rome, even the most able and learned of them. I wish to throw myself into their system. While I say what they say, I am safe. Such views, too, are necessary for our position.' Yet I have reason to fear still, that such language is to be ascribed in no small measure to an impetuous temper, a hope of approving myself to persons I respect, and a wish to repel the charge of Romanism."*

We do not wish to comment severely on this confession. Our desire is, simply, that the reader shall learn from it the character of Mr. Newman, so far as to see that he is a person capable of publishing such statements as we have cited, on no better warrant for their truth than he has assigned-namely, that the divines of his Church had expressed themselves in similar terms; and with no better excuse for their publication than that "such views were necessary for our position:" that is to say, that Mr. Newman was capable of circulating what he now believes to have been calumnies, without making inquiry into their title to be believed, because it was "necessary for the position" in which he was placed, to maintain them. We must bear in mind, also, that this is the more amiable explanation of the transaction. Our author makes a further confession-namely, "that his language was to be ascribed, in no small degree, to an impetuous temper, a hope of approving himself to persons he respected, and a wish to repel the charge of Romanism." In a word, Mr. Newman is capable, by his own avowal, of uttering the foulest aspersions, not because he has convinced himself that they are merited, but because he is swayed by an impetuous temper, and influenced by the sordid calculation of personal advantage.

Our judgment in this matter is not warped by Mr. Newman's recent conduct.

It was formed antecedently to his change. We were among the

number of those to whom his "retractation," when first published, was addressed. It reached us, we knew not and know not from what source, through the ordinary channel of the post. The impression it produced upon us then was precisely what it produces now, with this difference, that we, at that time, believed it to be an unworthy and malignant device of some unscrupulous adversary, who borrowed Mr. Newman's name to villify him. Notwithstanding the various rumours which reached us, we were not undeceived, or rather remained selfdeceived, until the defamatory confession was authenticated by the penitent himself.

Thenceforth, it is plain, Mr. Newman's name cannot add weight to his testimony; but, on the contrary, should

have the effect of rendering his statements objects of suspicion and scrutiny. He is, confessedly, a man who can publish as his own, without examining them, the sentiments of partizans to whom he has resigned his judgment and will; and who, where he is left free to follow his own convictions, is liable to be led away from the truth by disreputable influences and motives, including among them the vice of an "impetuous temper," and of an overweening selfishness. reading a work where so much must obviously rest on personal authority, it is necessary to retain in mind this characteristic of the author. We shall deal with Mr. Newman's reasonings as they themselves may seem to merit; but we shall not pretend to have any respect for statements which rest on his authority.

In

And, indeed, were we disposed to overlook his confession of the motives which influenced him to asperse Romanism-a profession which he has made respecting a doctrine held in a purer church, would compel us to remember, that he cannot be admitted as a competent witness. Even at the very threshold of his work, this memento meets us, in the shape of a declaration which he has hazarded on the subject of the Athanasian Creed,a declaration, too, not collateral or incidental, but one upon which, it may be said, the whole argument must be mainly dependent. He affirms that the Athanasian Creed and the Creed of Pius IV. are equally excluded by the well-known rule of Vincentius Lirinensis, or are alike comprehended within its provisions; his argument is an endeavour to prove the latter. Before expressing our opinion on this assumption, we would place it in the words of Mr. Newman himself before the reader :