The Press.
London, England, 1857-08-29 00:00:00

THE PRESS, AUGUST 29, 1857.

dom and strength with which it inspires us
We think we have put the case as favourably
as it cm be put. And still we deny that the
epithet "great" is a just one. If any part of
the twenty-four hours deserved the title of
" great," it would be either noon or midnight.
Morning and evening are too soft, and sweet.
and cool, to coincide with our idea of " great"
in any signification of the term. The employ-
ment of the epithet in this case must spring
either from sheer thoughtlessness, or want of
fittniliatity, which seems more probable, with
the aspects of a country morning. In the
second of the two stanzas we have quoted we
dislike the word " dreaming." even as applied
to a hyacinth, much more to a " hyaeinthine
haze." In another place the followir g simile
is, in our opinion, still more objectionable :
At midnight, when thy suburbs lie
As silent as a noonday sky,
When larks with heat are mute—

This is an instance of an incongruous meta-
phor. No doubt, the two objects are alike in
the one point of stillness; but The first is the
stillness of death, the second of life ; and each
produces in the mind such totally distinct
sensations that we are certain the one would
never be suggested to us by the other. We
do not say that every similitude employed in
poetry should have been experienced by the
poet first; but it should be capable of being
experienced. Many images are kindled in the
mind by the heat of composition which 'would
not have occurred to it otherwise. The in-
stinct of a real poet will often guide him right
in such cases; but if he be a conscientious
writer, he will carefully weigh them by the
standard of nature and experience, and discard
all those of which neither memory nor ana-
logy justify the introduction. At the end of
the next poem of " Squire Maurice" occurs an
exactly similar blunder
see the long strings of the fishing skiff')
Come home to roost like lines of evening crows.
The sense of sight is compelled to acknow-
ledge the resemblance, but the imagination
revolts from the violation of poetic truth con-
tained in the above couplet. Yet in this very
piece, which is a sort of rhapsodical mono-
logue, we have one of the most beautiful pieces
of description with which we are acquainted :

Inland T wander slow,
Mote with the power the earth and heaven wield:
A blark spot sails across the golden field,

And through the air a crow.
Before me wavers spring's first butterfly :
From one the sunny noon there starts the cuckoo's cry;
The daisied meads are ernsical with lambs ;
Some piny some feed, some, white as snow flakes, lie
Tn the deep sunshine, by their silent dams.
The road grows wide and level to the feet ;
The wandering woodbine through the hedge is drawn,
Unhlnwn its serenity bugles dim and sweet ;
Knee-deep in fern stand startled doe and fawn,
And lo ! there gleams upon a spacious lawn

An Earl's marine retreat
A little foot path quivers up the height,
And what a vision for a townsman's sight !
A village, peeping from its orchard 'oh oni,
With lowly roofs of thatch, blue threads of smoke,
O'erlooking all, a parsonage of white.
I hear the smith's hammer, stroke on stroke !
A steed is at the door; the ruatics talk,
Prowl of the notice of the gaitered ;
A shallow river breaks o'er shallow fills.
Beside the ancient sluice that turns the mill
The lusty miller bawls ;
The parson listens in his garilen.walk,
The red cloaked woman pauses on the hill.
This is a place, yo❑ Nay, exempt from ill,
A paradise. where, all the loitering day,
Enamoured pigeons con upon the roof,
Where children ever play.

"The Night before the Wedding " is a sort of
conclusion to " Squire Maurice," and demands
no special notice.
On the whole. we think the finest poem in
the collection is that which succeeds, en-
titled " A Boy's Poem," and narrating the first
love of a young townsman, the glory it shed
around his life during its continuance, and the
drear catastrophe of its interruption. One day,
while full of joy and hope. he pays a visit to
some beautiful scenery in the neighbourhood;
and Part II , describing that trip, is one un-
broken series of exquisite little pictures of .rock,
lake, and forest. It is here, however, that we
more especially complain of his tautology. It
is not merely in words or phrases that Mr
Smith repeats himself, but in tone, and par.
titularly in manner. In this respect his