of each. The other inconvenience was not so easily parried. Mr Southey has, indeed, generally speaking, chosen the most pleasing of the Hindoo traditions. But while plunging into such an abyss of monstrous and outrageous fictions, the poet, perhaps, became more familiarized with the Eastern style than was quite consistent with the necessary severity of selection, and we have been not a little startled at some of the topics which he has chosen to celebrate. We have already stated our objections to the eight-days' combat of Ladurlad with the sea-monster, and to the self-multiplication of Kehama, on his storming Padalon. We would have included in our expurganda Indra's elemental palace, built partly of fire, partly of water, had not the poetry been so exquisitely beautiful as to excuse extravagance itself: but a globe which the sorceress Lorrinite composed of the pupils of human eyes, we must condemn without mercy. We would also send to the Remise a certain infernal car, which, as it only moved on one wheel, must have been a precarious vehicle, even if it had traversed a road broader than the edge of a scimitar. The description of Mount Calasay, a silver hill, with seven silver ladders, is too much like a tale of Madame D'Aunois; and we cannot help remarking, that Yamen-pur, the metropolis of the infernal regions, being made of a single diamond, is the more brilliant habitation of the two. Accustomed as we are to the Grecian Cupid, we cannot reconcile ourselves to Camdeo's bowstring, which being composed of live bees, must have been singularly ill adapted to the purposes of archery; nor are we at all pleased with the bees breaking off upon one occasion, and hiving upon Kailyal's head. These and similar imperfections, however, were almost inseparable from a plan laid in the wildest regions of fiction. The Greeks alone have contrived to reconcile to grace, and to a decent probability, their mythological fables, while the Hindoos have, of all nations, run farthest into the extremes of tumid and unimaginable absurdity. We can the more readily pardon Mr Southey for following, in a few instances, the bad taste of his model; because one of his principal beauties is derived from the uncommon art with which he has maintained the character of a poet of Hindostan. We have scarcely been able to find a passage, in which we are reminded that the bard is a European. The ornaments, the landscape, the animals, the similes, the language, the sentiments, are Oriental; selected, indeed, and arranged with more art than any Eastern poet could have displayed; but still composed of the very materials which he must necessarily have employed. This observation of manners and costume, is carried still farther than in Madoc. There the poet established among his imaginary Atzeucas, various rites observed in different parts of America; but here, where materials were more amply supplied, his and exclusively Hindoo, that they could be properly ascribed to no other Indian faith, and would be misplaced, had the story respected Mahometans, Thibetians, or Parsees. The genius and moral feeling of the author are, indeed, visibly superior to the colours with which he works; yet this superiority cannot be perceived from the Englishman breaking forth in any particular passage; but from the general light diffused over the whole picture, like that communicated by the sun to nature upon those days in which his orb is not visible. Weighing, therefore, the beauties, and the imperfections connected with the author's plan, the former will be found to preponderate in a very great degree. But could not Mr Southey have selected some subject, admitting all that is excellent, and excluding all that is extravagant in his poem? We should be deficient indeed in our art, if we could not answer in the affirmative. As Mr Southey himself, however, was to write the poem, it is only reverence for the reader's leisure, which prevents our demanding that he shall choose for his next theme, one which will allow him to display the sublimity of Homer, the majesty of Virgil, the fancy of Ariosto, the chaste taste of Tasso, the solemnity of Dante, and all the attributes of all the first poets. But would our advice be reasonable? Or rather, would it not resemble the resolution of the mad monarch, the execution of which he wisely commits to his ministers? "He shall have chariots easier than air, Which I will have invented And thou shalt ride before him, on a horse That shall be made to go with golden wheels This is the false gallop of criticism-it is not pointing out to an author any reasonable object to be attained; but insidiously hinting at some unknown point of excellence, with whose bearings we doubtless are acquainted, though we kindly leave the poet to find them out as he can. In this we see neither wit nor wisdom and shame on our craft if this finesse be its excellence! In judging of every human production, we can only estimate how far it exceeds or falls short of the common exertions of humanity; and it shows equal ignorance and injustice to attempt reducing it to the imaginary standard of some beau idéal, of which neither the author nor the critic has any distinct or accurate perception. We have already noticed the singular style of versification employed in this poem, which resembles the Pindarics of the seventeenth century. In the construction and return of his language, and even of his modulations, we observe a marked imitation of Milton, and there are passages in which the sense also approaches very nearly of each. The other inconvenience was not so easily parried. Mr Southey has, indeed, generally speaking, chosen the most pleasing of the Hindoo traditions. But while plunging into such an abyss of monstrous and outrageous fictions, the poet, perhaps, became more familiarized with the Eastern style than was quite consistent with the necessary severity of selection, and we have been not a little startled at some of the topics which he has chosen to celebrate. We have already stated our objections to the eight-days' combat of Ladurlad with the sea-monster, and to the self-multiplication of Kehama, on his storming Padalon. We would have included in our expurganda Indra's elemental palace, built partly of fire, partly of water, had not the poetry been so exquisitely beautiful as to excuse extravagance itself: but a globe which the sorceress Lorrinite composed of the pupils of human eyes, we must condemn without mercy. We would also send to the Remise a certain infernal car, which, as it only moved on one wheel, must have been a precarious vehicle, even if it had traversed a road broader than the edge of a scimitar. The description of Mount Calasay, a silver hill, with seven silver ladders, is too much like a tale of Madame D'Aunois; and we cannot help remarking, that Yamen-pur, the metropolis of the infernal regions, being made of a single diamond, is the more brilliant habitation of the two. Accustomed as we are to the Grecian Cupid, we cannot reconcile ourselves to Camdeo's bowstring, which being composed of live bees, must have been singularly ill adapted to the purposes of archery; nor are we at all pleased with the bees breaking off upon one occasion, and hiving upon Kailyal's head. These and similar imperfections, however, were almost inseparable from a plan laid in the wildest regions of fiction. The Greeks alone have contrived to reconcile to grace, and to a decent probability, their mythological fables, while the Hindoos have, of all nations, run farthest into the extremes of tumid and unimaginable absurdity. We can the more readily pardon Mr Southey for following, in a few instances, the bad taste of his model; because one of his principal beauties is derived from the uncommon art with which he has maintained the character of a poet of Hindostan. We have scarcely been able to find a passage, in which we are reminded that the bard is a European. The ornaments, the landscape, the animals, the similes, the language, the sentiments, are Oriental; selected, indeed, and arranged with more art than any Eastern poet could have displayed; but still composed of the very materials which he must necessarily have employed. This observation of manners and costume, is carried still farther than in Madoc. There the poet established among his imaginary Atzeucas, various rites observed in different parts of America; but here, where materials were more amply supplied, his and exclusively Hindoo, that they could be properly ascribed to no other Indian faith, and would be misplaced, had the story respected Mahometans, Thibetians, or Parsees. The genius and moral feeling of the author are, indeed, visibly superior to the colours with which he works; yet this superiority cannot be perceived from the Englishman breaking forth in any particular passage; but from the general light diffused over the whole picture, like that communicated by the sun to nature upon those days in which his orb is not visible. Weighing, therefore, the beauties, and the imperfections connected with the author's plan, the former will be found to preponderate in a very great degree. But could not Mr Southey have selected some subject, admitting all that is excellent, and excluding all that is extravagant in his poem? We should be deficient indeed in our art, if we could not answer in the affirmative. As Mr Southey himself, however, was to write the poem, it is only reverence for the reader's leisure, which prevents our demanding that he shall choose for his next theme, one which will allow him to display the sublimity of Homer, the majesty of Virgil, the fancy of Ariosto, the chaste taste of Tasso, the solemnity of Dante, and all the attributes of all the first poets. But would our advice be reasonable? Or rather, would it not resemble the resolution of the mad monarch, the execution of which he wisely commits to his ministers? "He shall have chariots easier than air, And thou shalt ride before him, on a horse That shall be made to go with golden wheels This is the false gallop of criticism-it is not pointing out to an author any reasonable object to be attained; but insidiously hinting at some unknown point of excellence, with whose bearings we doubtless are acquainted, though we kindly leave the poet to find them out as he can. In this we see neither wit nor wisdom and shame on our craft if this finesse be its excellence! In judging of every human production, we can only estimate how far it exceeds or falls short of the common exertions of humanity; and it shows equal ignorance and injustice to attempt reducing it to the imaginary standard of some beau idéal, of which neither the author nor the critic has any distinct or accurate perception. We have already noticed the singular style of versification employed in this poem, which resembles the Pindarics of the seventeenth century. In the construction and return of his language, and even of his modulations, we observe a marked imitation of Milton, and there are passages in which the sense also approaches very nearly "Thrice through the vulnerable shade inevitably recalls the griding sword of Michael. The beautiful retreat of the celestial inhabitants from the profaned Swerga, reminded us of the secession of the Hamadryads in the hymn to the Nativity. But Mr Southey, though we can discern that Milton is his favourite poet, is in no respect a servile imitator of his sublime model. His picture of the infernal regions may stand comparison with any poetic vision of those penal fires, from the days of Homer to those of Klopstock. The description hovers between that of Dante and Milton; not exhibiting the tedious particularity of the former, yet more detailed than that of the latter. The approach of the mortals to Padalon seems to us equal in grandeur to any passage which we ever perused. We will quote a few lines and close our criticism, though our subject is far from being exhausted. "Far other light than that of day there shone A glow, as of a fiery furnace light, A thing of comfort, and the sight, dismay'd, The World of Wo before them, opening wide. For neither mortal, nor immortal sight, Could pierce across through that intensest light." The notes contain a profusion of Eastern learning, and the massive blocks which Mr Southey has selected as specimens of Bramanical poetry and mythology, give us at once an idea of the immense quarries, in which the author must have laboured, and of the taste, skill, and labour necessary to fashion such unwieldy materials into the beautiful forms which they exhibit in the text. Every theme, however pleasing, has its bounds, and we must bid farewell to Mr Southey, grateful for the pleasure afforded us. We can presage nothing as to the popularity of the present poem. Its faults lie on the surface, and are of a kind obnoxious to sarcasm and malicious ridicule. But its beauties are infinite, and it possesses that high qualification for popularity, the power of exciting a painful and sustained interest. There are still, surely, among us those who will tolerate the eccentricities of genius, in consideration of its lofty properties-properties which distinguish all the works of the poet; but |