cable peculiarity which our younger bard cannot lay claim to;
but in place of this, there is a spirit of tender romance, in com-
bination with a loftiness of thought, which must, we think, pro-
cure for the whole poem a powerful and permanent impression.
Upon a mount they stood of wreathy light
Which cloud had never rested on, nor hues
Of night had ever shaded. Hence they saw
The motioned universe, that wheeled around
In fair confusion. Raised as they were now
To the high fountain head of light and vision,
Where'er they cast their eyes abroad, they found
The light behind, the object still before;
And on the rarified and pristine rays

Of vision borne, their piercing sight passed on
Intense and all unbounded -Onward! onward!
No cloud to intervene! no haze to dim!
Or nigh, or distant, it was all the same;
For distance lessened not. O what a scene,
To see so many goodly worlds upborne !
Around!-around-all turning their green bosoms
And glittering waters to that orb of life
On which our travellers stood, and all by that
Sustained and gladdened! By that orb sustained;
No-by the mighty everlasting one

Who in that orb resides, and round whose throne
Our journeyers now were hovering.' p. 30.

The delighted maiden inquires which of all these worlds is that she lately left, in order that she may note how far more extensive and fair it is than the rest. Little she confesses, she knows of it, more than that it is a right fair globe diversified and huge,' and that afar,

At length she supposes she descries it, and recognizes the Caledonian mountains. The smile of compassionate reproof with which she is answered by her conductor, prepares her for the information of the subordinate rank which the earth holds in this goodly universe.

'Down sunk the virgin's eye,-her heart seemed wrapped
Deep, deep in meditation, while her face

Denoted mingled sadness. 'Twas a thought

She trembled to express. At length with blush,
And faltering tongue, she mildly thus replied:

"I see all these fair worlds inhabited

By beings of intelligence and mind.
O! Cela, tell me this-Have they all fallen,

And sinned like us? And has a living God
Bled in each one of all these peopled worlds?
Or only on yon dark and dismal spot
Hath one Redeemer suffered for them all?'

We might forbear any remark on the happy introduction of this interesting query, so naturally occurring to a devoutly benevolent and simple mind; but we must express our commendation of the good sense which Mr. Hogg has displayed in disposing of the maiden's inquiry. One is always delighted to meet with any like moral vegetation in the wilds of fancy, especially to trace any signs of the implantation of Christian sentiments: but after the gloomy scepticism through which we have lately been constrained to follow the course of one highly gifted genius, and the absolute barrenness of moral sentiment which deforms the descriptive romances of a popular northern poet, it is a peculiar relief to open upon passages similar to that we are transcribing, when they appear to be introduced, not for the sake of any parade of theological learning or casuistical inference, but from the natural association of ideas in a simple and devout mind. Such, at least, is the impression which we have received from this and other passages in the same part of Mr. Hogg's poem. But we forget that we have not given to our readers Cela's reply, which ought not to have been separated from the question that occasioned it.

"Hold, hold,—no more! Thou talk'st thou know'st not what,"

Said her conductor with a fervent mien,

"More thou shalt know hereafter.

But meanwhile
This truth conceive, that God must ever deal

With men as men. Those things by him decreed,

Or compassed by permission, ever tend

To draw his creatures, whom he loves, to goodness;

For He is all benevolence, and knows

That in the paths of virtue and of love

Alone, can final happiness be found.
More thou shalt know hereafter."" p. 37.

In justice to our Author, we will venture one more extract from this part of the poem; and we think none of our readers will think its length requires apology. The whole conception of the origin and nature of the comet is highly magnificent, and finely sustained.

At length upon the brink of heaven they stood;
There lingering, forward on the air they leaned
With hearts elate, to take one parting look
Of nature from its source, and converse hold
Of all its wonders. Not upon the sun,
But on the halo of bright golden air

That fringes it they leaned, and talked so long, That from contiguous worlds they were behell, And wondered at as beams of living light.'

While thus they stood or lay, there passed by A most erratick wandering globe, that seemed To run with troubled aimless fury on. The virgin, wondering, inquired the cause And nature of that roaming meteor world. When Cela thus :

"I can remember well

When yon was such a world as that you left;
A nursery of intellect, for those

Where matter lives not. Like these other worlds,

It wheeled upon its axle, and it swung

With wide and rapid motion. But the time
That God ordained for its existence run,

Its uses in that beautiful creation,

Where nought subsists in vain, remained no more! The saints and angels knew of it, and came

In radiant files, with awful reverence,

Unto the verge of heaven, where we now stand,
To see the downfall of a sentenced world.
Think of the impetus that urges on

These ponderous spheres, and judge of the event.
Just in the middle of its swift career

Th' Almighty snapt the golden cord in twain.
That hung it to the heaven. Creation sobbed!
And a spontaneous shriek rang on the hills
Of these celestial regions. Down amain
Into the void the outcast world descended,
Wheeling and thundering on! Its troubled seas
Were churned into a spray, and, whizzing, flurred
Around it like a dew. The mountain tops,
And ponderous rocks, were off impetuous flung,
And clattered down the steeps of night for ever.

caves,

"Away into the sunless, starless void Rushed the abandoned world; and thro' its And rifted channels, airs of chaos sung. The realms of night were troubled, for the stillness Which there from all eternity had reigned Was rudely discompos'd; and moaning sounds, Mixed with a whistling howl, were heard afar, By darkling spirits! Still with stayless force, For years and ages, down the wastes of night Rolled the impetuous mass ! Of all its seas And superfices disencumbered, It boomed along, till, by the gathering speed, Its furnaced mines and hills of walled sulphur Were blown into a flame.-When, meteor-like,

Bursting away upon a arching track,
Wide as the universe, again it scaled

The dusky regions Long the heavenly hosts
Had deemed the globe extinct, nor thought of it,
Save as an instance of Almighty power.
Judge of their wonder and astonishment,
When far as heavenly eyes can see, they saw
In yon blue void, that hideous world appear,
Showering thin flame and shining vapour forth
O'er half the breadth of heaven! The angels paused,
And all the nations trembled at the view.

"But great is He who rules them! He can turn
And lead it all unhurtful thro' the spheres,

Signal of pestilence, or wasting sword,

That ravage and deface humanity.

"The time will come when, in likewise, the earth Shall be cut off from God's fair universe;

Its end fulfilled. But when that time shall be,

From man, from saint, and angel, is concealed."-pp. 52, 57. We must be more brief in our notice of the remaining parts' of the poem. Part the Third is written in heroic couplets, and opens with an invocation to the harp of Imperial England.'

'Come thou old bass,-I lov'd thy lordly swell,

With Dryden's twang, and Pope's malicious knell.'

We should recommend Mr. Hogg, however, to omit in the next edition of his volume this and the three succeeding couplets, as very ill-according with the character of the poem, and altogether impertin. nt. The argument of the book is briefly summed up in the following lines.

Sing of the globes our travellers viewed, that lie
Around the sun, envelop'd in the sky;

Thy music slightly must the veil withdraw,
From lands they visited, and scenes they saw;
From lands where love and goodness ever dwell,
Where famine, blight, or mildew never fell;
Where face of man is ne'er o'erspread with gloom,
And woman smiles for ever in her bloom;
And then must sing of wicked worlds beneath,
Where flit the visions, and the hues of death.'

In this canto the reader sensibly perceives himself to be nearing the earth again. Cela seems already transformed into a guide of material mould, and the poet, his pinions failing in that planetary atmosphere, assumes more of the appearance of an Aeronaut. The stiff and stately regularity of the rhyming couplet is well adapted to this alteration of movement; and, in

deed, the judicious variation and felicitous choice of rhythm throughout this poem, make it evident that a distinct untransferable character, and a peculiar power of expression attach to the different forms of versification, apart from the purpose for which they are employed, and constituting their adaption to particular subjects, while they shew that Mr. Hogg is well acquainted with his business as a versifier.

There are passages in this part of his work, however, of no ordinary merit; and we think it probable that with many the whole canto will be the favourite one. It is more didactic than the rest, and contains some fine strokes of satire, and some beautiful sentiments. The idea of the planet Venus, as

The land of lovers, known afar,

And named the evening and the morning star;

Is very py. The warlike sphere that wades in crimson like the sultry sun,' detains our poet too long, though it is made the subject of some fine descriptive passages. make room, however, only for the following very striking lines, which are introduced as illustrative of the idea, that there are ' prisons in the deep below.'

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'O! it would melt the living heart with woe,
Were I to sing the agonies below;
The hatred nursed by those who cannot part;
The hardened brow, the seared and sullen heart;
The still defenceless look, the stifled sigh,
The writhed lip, the staid despairing eye,
Which ray of hope may never lighten more,
Which cannot shun, yet dares not look before.
O! these are themes reflection would forbear,
Unfitting bard to sing, or maid to hear;
Yet these they saw, in downward realms prevail,
And listened many a sufferer's hapless tale,
Who all allowed that rueful misbelief

Had proved the source of their eternal grief:
And all th' Almighty punisher arraigned

For keeping back that knowledge they disdained.' p. 86.

We think our readers will concur with us in ascribing no or dinary character to such poetry as this.

The conclusion of the third part leaves Mary within the 'grave alone.' The Poet concludes,

'Here I must seize my ancient harp again,
And chaunt a simple tale, a most uncourtly strain.'

Part the Fourth is, accordingly, in the varied measure of the modern metrical romance, and forms an appropriate sequel to the wondrous tale. The opening of it describes the terror and