Rome, Ctesiphon, and Athens in Paradise Regained -poetic paintings, richly worthy of the pencil of the Milton of painting-Martin. Should I seek, in pursuing the analogy of the sister arts, for a pictorial associate for Montgomery, I should call him the "Danby of Poetry." The open or sequestered landscape-the smiling lawn or solemn woodland-the gorgeous sunrise and the stormy sunset-the fairy loveliness of Eden-the floral wealth of cultivated nature-and the gaunt sterility of the howling wilderness'-the convulsions and wreck of matter, and the wrathful or merciful miracles of Deity, are the themes which supply the sweet or daring imagery in which both delight. • His descriptions,' says one of Montgomery's justly appreciating critics, of external nature, in addition to their graphic loveliness, have the still greater merit of being all combined with internal feeling. It would seem as if the poet's soul had poured itself abroad on the scenes that he depicts, and made them an actual part of his existence.' I proceed, according to the systematic order I have preserved throughout, to the production of such specimens out of an abundant variety of flowers, from which it is difficult to chuse, in order to prove that the above tribute to genius is neither undeserved nor misapplied; and shall then conduct the reader to a brief analysis and comparison of Mr. Montgomery's preceding poetical works, with a view to define the gradation of poetical rank to which he is entitled. I will first give some examples of Mr. Montgomery's diction, either in newly-applied, compounded, or revived phrases, to which objection has been made, and which are admissible under certain restrictions. Those marked with stars appear to me felicitous; the rest are adduced as specimens of the constructive peculiarity in question, which often consists, according to the real and strictly-philosophical* analogy of the language, in transferring the property of the English substantive to the active verb. Sometimes he adopts a bold Germanism (a double substantive) in his compounds, which he seldom or never uses, except when he wants a pictural word. He says To voice thy spirit through the quarter'd world. • Knee thy name' is used by Cowper; syllable men's names,' by Shakspeare. Of music, he says that it * Pulses into melody. Of a sunset, that the sky is Damask'd with crimson clouds. Spenser uses the word. Of rivers that they Run gladness. This is an Hebraism. Describing a storm, he uses the following phrases— All echo with the chorus of thy clouds. Ecstatic thunders antheming the storm. Were a philosophical language constructed, it must follow this analogy, as the Chinese does : vocal or written accents marking the sole difference between the substantive, verb, adjective, and adverb. E Shakspeare speaks of winds Quiring to the sound of angels' harps. Montgomery says— And every cloud is at its thunder hymn. Thunder-hymn is a sublime expression. Byron (see Cain) has singing in thunder.' Shakspeare applies a similar idea to a storm, but degrades it by the mechanical imagery of an organ :' 6 The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name. Describing the rustling murmurs of waving boughs, Montgomery calls them Airy leaf-notes. And, satirizing sentimental fancies, says that they are He uses the terms * Chariot-roll of clouds. Flowerets giddy with delight. Of a misanthrope, he says— Deflowering happiness of her young bloom; Of England's mental excitation The world Is fever'd with thy name. The subjoined is original and picturesque : * Boughs like hearse-plumes wave their shadowy pomp. • Brave delight' is Shakspearian; so is Voiceless harm.' * Bright perfidy of wanton eyes, has been objected to. beautiful metonymy. To me it appears a new and 66 Bright perfection" has been applied, by Pope, to a beautiful woman; "fair destruction," less gallantly, by Darwin. The following passages exhibit phrases in which, besides pictural beauty of image, the "sound is made an echo to the sense." Hears The careless mutter of the broken clod What ocean mockery from the voiceful boughs Hark! the revelry of waves! Now, like the whirling of unnumber'd wheels Then, snake-like hissing, they enring* the shore, Oh! what a sea of sound A sea for ever sounding with his voice The voice of waves, Faint as the rush of rapid angel wings. We now come to a more important department of the subject-the sentiment and imagery of the poem. * The word enring, from the German (umringen), is picturesque, and analogical with the Teutonic paternity of the English language. In both there are as many examples of the sublime and beautiful as any poem of equal length in the language contains. Scattered with profusion on both sides of my now pleasant path, I have only to cull these flowers with unstinted freedom. The following passages, which I have made free to class under distinguishing heads, appear to me replete with poetical beauty. DISTANT MOUNTAINS. Soundless and solemn as cathedral towers A CROWDED CITY. The storm roll of immingled life Is heard, and, like a roaring furnace, fills, &c. A sunrise has been already given. Here follow two sunsets: I remember nothing of this kind equally beautiful. Byron's strength did not lie in these ideal paintings, but in the analysis of mind. SUNSET. But lo! the day declines, and to his throne |