Shadows of Days Departed, a Narrative;" besides "The Village Verse-book," a very popular selection of simple poetry.
The events of this gentleman's private and professional life were of no particular interest. Having entered holy orders, he resided for many years as curate in Donhead St Andrew, in Wilts, where he remained till 1804, when he was appointed vicar of Bremhill – a situation which he continued to fill till the end of his long life. In 1792, he was presented to the vicarage of Checklade, in Wiltshire, which he resigned, after an incumbency of five years, on receiving another presentation to the rectory of Dumbleton, Gloucestershire. This living he retained till his death, although he never resided at either Dumbleton or Checklade. In 1804, through Archbishop Moore, he was made vicar of Bremhill, and, the same year, prebend of Stratford in the cathedral church of Salisbury. In 1828, he was elected canon-residentiary. He had, in 1818, been appointed chaplain to the Prince Regent. He resided constantly at Bremhill for twenty-five years. After he was elected canon, however, he abode partly, and in the latter years of his life principally, in the town of Salisbury. In 1797, he married Magdalene, daughter of the Rev. Charles Wake, D.D., prebendary of Westminster, and grand-daughter of Archbishop Wake. She died some years before her husband, and left no family. Bowles himself expired at Salisbury, after a gradual decay of the vital powers, April 7, 1850, aged eighty-eight years. His life is about to be written at large by his kinsman, Dr J. Bowles, assisted by Mr Alaric Watts, to whom the publisher is indebted for the means of supplying a complete copyright edition of the poet's works.
Bowles was a diligent pastor, an eloquent preacher, an active justice, and in every way an estimable man. Even Byron, who met him at Mr Rogers', in London, speaks of him as a "pleasant, gentlemanly man – a good fellow for a parson." Moore, in his Diary, speaks with delight of his mixture of talent and simplicity. In his introduction to "Scenes and Shadows," Bowles gives some interesting particulars of his early life. In Blackwood, for August 1828, there is a very entertaining account of Bremhill Parsonage.
As an author, he appears in three aspects – as a writer on typography, as an editor and controversialist, and as a poet. In 1828, he produced a volume entitled "The Parochial History of Bremhill," and shortly afterwards, his "History of Lacock Abbey," containing much interesting antiquarian lore. To this succeeded a still more ingenious and recondite work, entitled "Hermes Britannicus," besides some less important writings of a similar kind. His "Life of Bishop Ken," which appeared in 1830 and 1831, might be considered as belonging to the same category of learned antiquarian lucubrations.
In 1807, he published an edition of Pope, in ten volumes, for which he received £300. The life prefixed to this edition led to the celebrated controversy between Bowles, on the one hand, and Campbell, Byron, Roscoe, Octavius Gilchrist, and the Quarterly Review, on the other. In our life of Pope, we hope to devote a few pages to the principal questions which were mooted in this controversy. We may simply say, at present, that we think Bowles was, in the main, right, although he laid himself open to retort at many points, and displayed an animus against Pope, both as a man and a poet, which he in vain sought to disclaim, and which somewhat detracted from the value of his criticisms. He gained, however, the three objects at which he aimed: – he proved that Pope was only at the head of the second rank of poets – that, as a man, he was guilty of many meannesses, and had a prurient imagination and pen – and that the objects of artificial life are, per se, less fitted for the purposes of poetry than those of nature, and than the passions of the human heart. In this controversy, as well as in some after-skirmishes, – in his letters to Lord Brougham, "On the Position and Incomes of the Cathedral Clergy," – in a letter to Sir James Mackintosh, on the Increase of Crime, – and in a sharp fight with the Rev. Edward Duke, F.S.A., on the Antiquities of Wiltshire – Bowles displayed amazing PLUCK, and no small controversial acuteness and dexterity. Like another Ajax, he took enemy after enemy on his single shield, and by his pertinacity and perseverance, he succeeded in beating them all. He stood at first alone, and had very formidable opponents. But he bated not one jot of heart or hope; and, by and by, Southey, Blackwood's Magazine, and others, came to his aid, and, finally, William Hazlitt saw, with his inevitable eye, the real merits of the case, and (substantially inclining to the Bowles side) settled, by a paper in the London Magazine, the question for ever. As a controversialist, Bowles is rather noisy, flippant, and fierce; and his reply to Byron, while superior to the noble bard's letter in argument, is far inferior in easy and trenchant vigour of style. His writings on the Pope controversy consist of "A Letter to Thomas Campbell," "Two Letters to Lord Byron," "A Final Appeal to the Public relative to Pope," and (more last words!), "Lessons in Criticism to William Roscoe, and Farther Lessons to a Quarterly Reviewer." All are exceedingly readable and clever.
It is curious contrasting the spirit of Bowles' prose – his severity – his pugnacity – his irritability, with the mild qualities of his poetry. The leading element in all his poetical works is sentiment, – warm, mellow, tender, and often melancholy sentiment. He has no profound thought – no powerful pictures of passion – no creative imagination – but over all his poetry lies a sweet autumnal moonlight of pensive and gentle feeling. In his larger poems, he is often diffuse and verbose, and you see more effort than energy. But in his smaller, and especially in his sonnets, and his pieces descriptive of nature, Bowles is always true to his own heart, and therefore always successful. How delightful such sonnets as his "Morning Bells," "Absence," "Bereavement," and his poems entitled, "Monody at Matlock," "Coombe-Ellen," "On Hearing the 'Messiah,'" etc.! We trust that many, after reading these and the others (some of which were never before published) contained in our volumes, will be ready to express the gratitude of their hearts through the medium of the following beautiful sonnet: —
"My heart has thanked thee, Bowles! for those soft strains,
Whose sadness soothes me like the murmuring
Of wild bees in the sunny showers of spring!
For hence, not callous to the mourner's pains,
Through youth's gay prime and thornless paths I went:
And when the mightier throes of mind began,
And drove me forth a thought-bewildered man,
Their mild and manliest melancholy lent
A mingled charm, such as the pang consigned
To slumber, though the big tear it renewed;
Bidding a strange mysterious pleasure brood
Over the wavy and tumultuous mind,
As the Great Spirit erst with plastic sweep
Moved on the darkness of the unformed deep."
His larger poems are perhaps more distinguished by the ambition of their themes than by the success of their treatment. His particular theory about the superiority of the works of nature as poetical subjects perhaps led him to a too uniform selection of its grander features, while undoubtedly his genius fitted him better for depicting its softer and smaller objects. He excels far more in interpreting the language of the bells, now of Ostend, and now of Oxford – in describing the dingles of Coombe Ellen – in echoing the fall of the river Avon, heard in his sick-chamber at Bath – or in catching on his mind-mirror the "Distant View of England from the Sea" – than in coping with the dark recesses of the American forest, following the daring Gama round his Cape of Storms, standing with Noah on the brow of the tremendous mountain Caff, the hill of demons and griffins, and seeing the globe at his feet, or in walking beside the Seer of all time, in that "isle which is called Patmos,"
"Placed far amid the melancholy main."
He is more at home in the beautiful than in the sublime – more a Warton than a Milton – and may be rather likened to a bee murmuring her dim music in the bells of flowers, than to an eagle dallying with the tempest, and binding distant oceans and chains of mountains together by the living link of his swift and strong pinion. Yet his "Spirit of Discovery" contains some bold fancy. Take this, for instance: —
"Andes, sweeping the horizon's tract,
Mightiest
