the subject which the general and overwhelming nature of its detail, as exhibited in the efforts of preceding writers, had altogether failed to produce.

The American bard opens his poem, by representing himself, while meditating, during the evening of Christmas-day, on the actions, the precepts, and promises of our Saviour, as seized with a trance-like sleep, under the influence of which, he conceives himself journeying at sunrise over a boundless plain, save that in its apparent centre there arose a verdant mount adorned with flowers of every varied hue and fragrance. Whilst light of heart, and full of joy, he travelled onward, his attention was arrested by an effulgence which surpassed the sun, by the murmur of many voices, and the rush of wings, and, gazing upward, he beheld amid the opening heavens a throne surrounded by myriads of immortal spirits, and heard the mingling tones of hymns, and harps, and hallelujahs

sweet.

Sudden, a seraph that before them flew,
Pausing upon his wide-unfolded plumes,

Put to his mouth the likeness of a trump,

And toward the four winds four times fiercely

breathed.

The mighty peal

To Heaven resounded, Hell returned a groan,
And shuddering Earth a moment reeled, confounded,
From her fixed pathway, as the staggering ship,
Stunn'd by some mountain billow, reels. The isles,
With heaving ocean rocked: the mountains shook
Their ancient coronets: the Avalanche

Thundered: silence succeeded through the nations.
Earth never listened to a sound like this.

It struck the general pulse of nature still,
And broke, for ever, the dull sleep of death.

The throne now descending, rests upon the summit of the mount, and is encircled by the heavenly host, amongst whom, pre-eminent in majesty and beauty, are seen the seven glorious spirits who for ever stand in the presence of the Almighty. Amidst these, says the poet,

I saw Emmanuel, seated on his throne;
His robe, methought, was whiter than the light;
Upon his breast the Heavenly Urim glowed
Bright as the sun, and round such lightnings flashed,
No eye could meet the mystic symbol's blaze.

Resplendent in his face the Godhead beamed,
Justice and mercy, majesty and grace,
Divinely mingling. Celestial glories played
Around with beamy lustre; from his eye
Dominion looked; upon his brow was stamped
Creative power. Yet, over all, the touch
Of gracious pity dwelt, which erst, amidst
Dissolving nature's anguish, breathed a prayer
For guilty man. Redundant down his neck
His locks rolled graceful, as they waved, of old,
Upon the mournful breeze of Calvary.

The close of this passage, as included in the last six lines, is conceived and executed in a style which discloses the hand of a master. It is followed by a description of the throne of the filial deity, and by two highly-coloured pictures of archangelic majesty and wisdom. These last, as ably supported and finely contrasted, and as presenting very fair specimens of the author's talents in the delineation of superhuman power and intelligence, I conceive it but justice to transcribe. They will be found, like the portraits of a similar kind in Milton, to derive a large portion of their beauty and effect, not only from the exquisite propriety of the

imagery brought forward to their aid, but from the well-adapted structure and harmony of the versification, which, like tints in the hand of the painter, forms the medium of their develop

ment.

Upon the Lord's right hand

His station Michael held: the dreadful sword,
That from a starry baldric hung, proclaimed
The Hierarch. Terrible, on his brow
Blazed the archangel crown, and from his eye
Thick sparkles flashed. Like regal banners, waved
Back from his giant shoulders his broad vans,
Bedropt with gold, and, turning to the sun,
Shone gorgeous as the multitudinous stars,
Or some illumined city seen by night,

When her wide streets pour noon, and echoing thro'
Her thronging thousands mirth and music ring.

Opposed to him, I saw an angel stand

In sable vesture, with the books of Life.
Black was his mantle, and his changeful wings
Glossed like the raven's; thoughtful seemed his mien,
Sedate and calm, and deep upon his brow
Had Meditation set her seal: his eyes

Looked things unearthly, thoughts unutterable,
Or uttered only with an angel's tongue.

Renowned was he among the seraphim
For knowledge elevate, and heavenly lore;
Skilled in the mysteries of the Eternal,
Profoundly skilled in those old records, where,
From everlasting ages, live God's deeds;
He knew the hour when yonder shining worlds,
That roll around us, into being sprang;
Their system, laws, connexion; all he knew
But the dread moment when they cease to be.
None judged like him the ways of God to man,
Or so had pondered; his excursive thoughts
Had visited the depths of Night and Chaos,
Gathering the treasures of the hoary deep.

The poet now brings before us the sumless myriads of human beings, who, like wave following wave, appear entering on the plain in endless succession; and it is here that he has shown a very uncommon degree of skill in selecting, contrasting, and grouping, for the purpose of placing them on his foreground, characters of all ages and nations. Preserving to them their historic costume and features, he has on this plan elicited a degree of dramatic interest which no other expedient perhaps could have produced, and he prefaces his portraits