side, Young, Cowper, Beattie, Burns, and a hundred others" alike, but oh! how different" and from them we have experienced, according to M'Henry, " a poetical taste" one and the same a taste "to which every poet who has become the general favourite of mankind has conformed his productions." Every one of our greatest poets" revolutionized our poetical literature;" and yet, after all those glorious revolutions, its constitution remains the wonder of the world.

The Doctor is " incredulous of the power of any innovators to infuse a new poetical taste into the mind of man." Sophocles and Shakspeare constructed their tragedies on the same principles and there is no difference whatever between Grecian and Gothic architecture.

He is unconscious of any resemblance in the composition of his Antediluvians "to the slow-moving and spiritless style" of the Excursion. So_are we. We defy Wordsworth to point out a passage in his "Philosophical Poem" comparable in force and fire, rapidity and spirit, to the following flashes of inspiration that seem to set the highest heaven of the Doctor's invention in a blaze.

Then, aided by angelic architects,

Soon did they build that blest and wond'rous ark,

The ark of safety for all living things, Permitted to survive the world destroy'd, As sole transmitters of terrestrial life.

Of gopher wood, constructed close and firm,

The spacious mansion was composed, of strength

Both wind and water to resist, though roused

To all the force of elevated strife. Three hundred Hebrew cubits was its length,

The breadth was fifty, thirty was the length,

Divided into three successive floors.

In each, full many a various-structured cell Was form'd, the different animals to lodge,

From the bold lion and behemoth huge, To the dull beetle and the duller moth, And from the imperial eagle to the wren."

"Animated and flowing diction," adds the Doctor, " is indeed avowedly repudiated by the followers of this school, whose leading tenet is, that 'the real language of poetry does not differ from that of ordinary life, except in metrical arrangement." "

The Doctor is dosing-comatose. Nobody will believe that any school, old or new, ever avowédly "repudiated animated and flowing diction." But William Wordsworth and James M Henry may have different ideas of animation and flow the one conceiv ing that he beholds those qualities in a Westmoreland river-the other in the Paddington Canal.

There is no such passage in Wordsworth's glorious preface to the Lyrical Ballads as that given above by Dr M'Henry, as containing "the leading tenet of the new school." That preface is full of the grandest truths: it expounds the eternal principles of all poetry, removes the rubbish, and shows the foundations in the rock of ages.

The Doctor " argufies the question;" and absolutely, utely, in opposition to Wordsworth, undertakes to expound the essential distinction between poetry and prose! As a clencher, he quotes Milton :

"To the nuptial bower

I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven,

And happy constellations, in that hour, Shed their selectest influence; the earth Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs

Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings

Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub,

Disporting, like the amorous bird of night, Sung spousal, and bade haste the evening

star

On his hill-top to light the bridal lamp.”

The italics are the Doctor's-and he exclaims, "every reader of taste will admit the uncommon beauty of the foregoing passage, placed as it is in a position where grandeur is natural, and decoration appropriate. Yet, who does not perceive that the splendid expressions which render it so remarkable, would, if employed in prose, be as offensive, as in poetry they are pleasing?" There is not one expression there that might not be used in elevated prose, provided only there were a departure from the metrical arrangement. In Milton's own prose there are hundreds as splendid-as poetical; and in the prose of Jeremy Taylor, and other great writers. Passion and imagination are not banished from prose-nor a sense of the su blime and beautiful;-nor are

banished from the breasts of men who are no writers at all, but who nevertheless, under their influence, speak as orators or poets speak-even as men and women are heard speaking throughout all Shakspeare, in a style that must be most " offensive" to the Doctor, though " pleasing" to all the rest of the human race. True, 'tis a visionary world, and an enchanted floor -that Theatre. But the shadows seem to be of flesh and blood-to speak our language-to shed tears like ours -and utter what bears a dread resemblance to human groans.

The Doctor has the stupid impertinence to say, that Wordsworth has " strenuously recommended and practised a mode of writing, characterised by a meagre dryness of expression, and a diffuse languor of modulation, which has procured for it the epithet of " prose poetry." Where is the blockhead who applied that epithet? Let him show and deep must be the shade that, after an interview with Us, will suffice to hide "his many-coloured head."

Let us hear now our friend's opinion of his own poetry : -" The true style of good poetry is certainly one or other of these extremes; and a writer of judgment and good taste will as carefully avoid offending by the bare sterility, or by the meretricious gaudiness of his diction. The great art is to know when, and in what degree, to decorate. Some to

and scope, comprising the individuals, characters, sentiments, and scenery, ought never to be overlooked." Such dicta, so boldly announced, may appear paradoxical; but, on maturer reflection, the world will cheerfully admit their truth.

We admire the genius displayed by many of the Poets of the Flood-yet are "free to confess," that, with the exception of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Enoch, and old MethuselahNoah and his family, of course-we have never been able to bring ourselves to care much for the Antediluvians. There are grotesque images associated, in our fancy, with the very name. We know that we ought to be above such weakness and we cheerfully acknowledge that the Deluge was "a great event in the annals of mankind." We have no doubt that the World before the Flood was a very poetical world-for we know it was a very wicked one. But commend us on that and every other account-to the World after the Flood. Let us first exhaust it, if you please-and when there is no more to be said about it, fall back on the ages that never saw the rainbow.

The Doctor says, that "in drawing the characters, and relating the transactions of the important era that preceded the Deluge, the heart of man, under the various modifications caused by the same passions which agitate it to this day, can be exhibit

and perspicuous, while others will appear flat and barren, unless enriched with the flowers of speech. Description and sentiment seem to be peculiarly susceptible of ornament, and will bear it to an extent that would encumber dialogue, and impede the progress of the narrative. Throughout the following work, I trust it will be found that, while on every admissible occasion I have indulged in the decorative style, I have been sparing of it wherever employing it freely would have savoured of affectation, produced obscurity, or occasioned unnecessary and unseemly glare." In short, the author is of opinion that the Antediluvians is "written in the true style of good poetry." Nous verrons.

The Doctor holds that "the diction of a poem is of much less consequence than the ideas" - and that, "in estimating the merit of a long narrative poem in particular, its general plan

a great disadvantage. We would not give Crabbe's Borough for all that has been written or ever will be written about the Antediluvian world. We have been more affected by a paragraph in the Westmoreland Gazette, telling of the loss of a postchaise, horses, driver, and a pretty girl, in the sands between Lancaster and Ulverston, than by Byron's Heaven and Earth, or even by Poussin's or Martin's great picture.

"The awful event which terminated the first series of the human race, cannot fail," says the Doctor, " strongly to affect the mind, and awaken the sympathies of their descendants of every tribe, and in every clime, as well as to teach them a warning lesson of the most impressive character they could possibly learn." It does so in the Bible. But as we dislike and disavow all manner of affectation, we hope that we shall not give offence in any quarter, by declaring in the July number of Blackwood, 1839, that though we are one of the most distinguished "descendants" "of the first series" of the human race, "the event which terminated" that series does " fail strongly to awaken our sympathies" - and, shocking as it may seem, that we have not read Dr M'Henry's Antediluvians, or the World Destroyed, with a tithe of the interest we felt in Sir Thomas D. Lauder's Account of the Morayshire

Floods.

The Doctor himself has some misgivings on the subject, and acknowledges " that it was, indeed, no slight task to bring before the public, the affairs and fortunes of a world, concerning which so few records remain." The Public will, no doubt, try to look more than usually pensive on the Antediluvians and the World Destroyed, but will be sadder at heart for the sake of a party of apprentices and their sweethearts drowned on a holiday in rashly "shooting the bridge."

The Poem of The Antediluvians, or the World Destroyed, opens with a description of Armon, or Armonia, "beneath the rule of the righteous

Enoch."

"There flocks and herds Amidst the genial valleys, multiplied In joyous numbers; for no winter frost Nor summer scorching there was feared

to cause

Sickness, or pain, or premature decay; But every gale that fanned the fragrant air, Bore health and gladness on its balmy wings,

Giving duration to the life of man

Tenfold the period of its present state."

Is this scriptural? "Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life. Thorns also and thistles shall it bring

forth to thee, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return into the ground," &c. The winter frost may not then have been very severe in Armonia, though we believe that now it is occasionally rather sharp, with sleet, hail, and snow. "Summer scorching" there must have been-and frequent drought. On what authority does a medical man of our day aver that there was " no sickness, or pain, or premature de. cay" before the Flood? Children'

complaints - especially teething must have carried off multitudes-and so must the measles; "girls of sweet sixty" died then in fact of consumption-and blooming and blushing brides were prematurely cut off ere they had reached their two-hundredth year. We are nowhere told that the longevity of the Antediluvians was owing to climate. There is every reason to believe that the Flood improved climate-and for that, and all other heaven's mercies, "our heart leaps up when we behold a rainbow in the sky."

In the 24th verse of the 5th chapter of Genesis you will find it thus writ ten: "And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took him." Milton, remembering with awe that verse, and by it inspired, says,

"Him old and young Exploded, and had seized with violent hands,

Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence,

Unseen amid the throng."

Here is Dr M'Henry's picture of the translation of Enoch.

"At length the patriarch of this happy race, By the command of his approving God,

Bade earth and all the sons of men adieu.
As, congregated on a spacious plain
Near Jared, their chief city, sacred seat
Of patriarch rule, from Enoch's father
named,

The tribes, assembled by the godlike man,
Joined in an annual sacrifice, ordained
In mem'ry of the pard'ning covenant made
With our repentant parents at the fall.
The holy patriarch called upon his God
For permanence of blessings on his race.
When lo! a glorious sight burst from the
skies!

A radiant chariot of celestial mould,
By winged spirits drawn, and in its seat
A form of beauteous and-majestic mien

Descended, in the midst, where Enoch stood.

Awe-struck the crowd at reverent distance

And, looking fondly on the wondering throng,

'Farewell!' he said, 'my children! serve your God With unremitting zeal, as I have done, And ye shall gain as bright a recompense!' "The harnessed spirits, spreading forth their wings

That waved in golden radiance, like the clouds

In autumn evening burnished by the sun;

With swift ascent towards th' ethereal realms Took their glad way, and mingled with the skies.

Th' astonished multitude fell to the ground In humble posture, and adored the Power Omnipotent, their father's God, whose hand This glorious miracle of love had wrought."

Chariots and cars are sublimely spoken of in Scripture and in Paradise Lost-"instinct with spirit." But the descent of the present chariot, to the eye of our imagination, is any thing but sublime. The set out is spick-andspan new-but too material by far as if built by Croall. "In its seat" is too minute a touch, and we are curious to know if it were a vis-a-vis. "Soon in the seraph's car he took his seat," bor ders, we fear, on the ludicrous-and we trust we are not profane in saying it suggests the idea of Enoch being booked for heaven. "Therefore ascend this chariot" is not seraphicand Enoch's parting words had been better, if not so self-laudatory. Nothing can be poorer, for nothing can be more commonplace, than the image of the clouds and it is inappropriate; for sunset is a steadfast show and far remote whereas the harnessed spirits unfold their wings in the very midst of a crowd-on the ground -and then, hovering for a moment over the earth, swiftly ascend towards the ethereal realms. The mere colour of their wings may have resembled that of clouds "in autumn even

ing burnished by the sun;" but all their other attributes are extinguished by the image.

Methuselah succeeds his father Enoch and dies, near the bottom of the page. His son Lamech having predeceased him, Noah mounts his grandfather's throne and then, it may be said, begins the poem.

We do not comprehend Dr M'Henry's views of hereditary succession to the monarchical government among the race of Seth before the Flood. On Enoch's translation, Methuselah, heir-apparent, assumes the sceptre.

dead long ago; for he speaks of "Jared, their chief city, sacred seat Of patriarch rule, from Enoch's father named."

In a second edition, the good old king (in his sixth century) must have a good place assigned him near the chariot "of celestial mould." Nor must Methuselah, any more than Enoch, be suffered to mount the throne till his grandfather's demise. A few hundred years must be cut off his reign, as erroneously given in the M'Henry's annals; and with such correction of dates for it is strictly a question of dates-the Doctor will not fail to discover the error contained in the lines,

"Through the long period of Methuselah's reign,

That reign the longest in the rolls of time."

Had we stopped here, we should have given the Doctor a famous opportunity for a triumph over us: but we beg to inform the Doctor, that at the time of Enoch's translation; not only was his father Jared alive, but Jared's father, Mahalaleel. Mahalaleelthen was king, Jared Prince of Wales, and Enoch Duke of - No, we are wrong again -for Mahalaleel's father Cainan was alive too, and he must have been king; so the Doctor and we are called upon to re-adjust the order according to seniority of the blood-royal. Why, we are not right yet-for Cainan's father, Enos, was as much alive as any of them; so, at the translation of Enoch as described by M'Henry-there must have been present_Enoch himself, Jared, his father, Mahalaleel, his grandfather, Cainan, his great-grandfather, and Enos, his great-great-grandfather. Mercy on us! old Seth, too, was alive-alive and kicking!-Enoch's great-great-great-grandfather!

Methuselah, however, at last is dead. And our poet exclaims:"Illustrious Noah! thou who wert or dained

desires,

The proud and daring openly gave way
To vile propensities, and wickedness
Began to lose the shame which had before
Kept her, decorous, from the public view."

Having found the Doctor so far out on his previous chronology, we cannot help suspecting that he is not aware that Methuselah died only about a year before the flood. This description of the gradual growth of wickedness in the above passage and many others after Methuselah's death, leads to this suspicion; but, suppo. sing that it is not so, then the action of the Antediluvians, or the World Destroyed for Enoch and Methuselah occupy but four pages at the beginning -is comprehended within a single year. Long enough time, too, in all conscience-but then, how short for a poem undertaking to narrate "THE FORTUNES AND CATASTROPHE OF THE ANTEDILUVIAN WORLD!" Wehearlittle or nothing, and that little or nothing in vague generalities, of any Antediluvians but those who were drowned in the Flood. The poem should have been called "The Year of the Flood." The Antediluvians, then, the Doctor cannot fail to perceive, has yet to be written and he ought to set about it forthwith, lest some interloper, regardless alike of "courtesy and policy," take it out of his hand.

We should have wished to know some

thing more of the Sethites than it has pleased the Doctor to reveal; but we must now accompany him to the kingdom of the Cainites, under the iron rule of Shalmazar, a Demi-fiend-begotten by Belial on Astoreth, a princess of the blood-royal. "The infernal spirit who had caused the Fall" had long had possession of the hearts of the people-and the guardian angels had resought the skies.

"Oh! direful was th' unhallowed intercourse, With more than half mankind, they had

maintained

Since the fell deed by bloody Cain was done,

VOL. XLVI. NO. CCLXXXV.

Of guardianship o'er human feebleness,
And left the hapless Cainites in the power
Of hellish tyrants, whom they blindly served,
Lured by the sensual pleasures amply given
In transient, poisonous recompense for
guilt!"

Let us take a look at the Demi-fiend. "Here reigned the fierce Shalmazar, giant king,

Sprung from a mixture of infernal strain; His sire the power of lewdness, Belial

named,

won

Who, amorous of an earth-born beauty, Astoreth, princess of Gal-Cainah's realm, To his unhallowed love. The foul embrace Produced a monster of gigantic frame, And hellish passions from his sire derived, Who slew his mother's kin, and with their blood

Succession earned to their imperial throne.
Such horrid intercourse was frequent, then,
Between the infernals and the beauteous
dames

Of Cain's cursed progeny, who feared not
God,
But, filled with hellish wantonness, pro-
A monstrous brood, half devils and half
men!"

duced

This mixture, the Doctor believes, " is in due consistency with the ideas generally entertained in Christendom." We cannot figure to ourselves the produce of such crosses a demirep is come-at-able in our imagination, but not a demi-fiend. This, however, is indisputable that Demi-fiend must be an ugly customer-wicked whether he will or no-miserableand a giant. The Cainite king should have been a man and should have given the Antediluvian world assurance of his being so though up to the knees and elbows in blood. Othello calls Iago a demi-devil because he knew that he was man-begotten as

well as woman-born.

Shalmazar had raised a golden statue of himself, "all enriched with gems of chrysolite and glittering adamant, emerald and topaz, amethyst and pearl," higher than the highest of the

I