The Sun.
London, England, 1830-09-07 00:00:00

-*

LITERATURE.

REVOLT OF THE ANGELS, BY THE AUTHOR
OF " CAIN THE WANDERER."—Lownox, 1830.
In the elevated character of their intellect there
is no faint resemblance between Mr. Reade, the

author of the noble production before us, and the
late lamented Percy Shelley. Both are poets

of the loftiest order of imagination, both are
metaphysicians, and both are fond of speculating,
to the hazard of their popularity, on the mysteries

of man, of nature, and of creation. Occasionally

;00, both are obscure even to being unintelligible,

but this is less frequently the case with the author

Cain the Wanderer" than the author o

" Prometheus Unbound." Mr. Shelley, indeed, is
often so dreamy, so abstracted in his metaphysical
reveries, that the reader may think himself fortu-
nate if he can contrive to glean even a Mount
Pisgah view of his meaning. As for grappling

with him in the way of argument, it is out of
the question ; one might as well attempt to grasp

a shadow, or battle with the wind. There are not

a few passages in the Revolt of Islam," which
are more difficult of comprehension than the
abstrusest portions of ./Eschylus or Pindar. Men
of little faith must not presume to approach them.
They are visible only to the eye of imagination.
Mr. Reade's metaphysics, as a body, are of a far
less obscure and complex character. If they
be not altogether of so imaginative an order as
Shelley's, neither are they so impalpable or per.

plexing. They leave to the reader the option
of assent or dissent. For ourselves we must con-

fess we are not partial to the union of poetry with
metaphysics. It is an ill-sorted conjunction,
which seldom turns out well. The one per-
petually hampers the other. If the poet wish to
soar high up into the empyreum, the metaphy-
sician is sure to restrain his flight, encumber his
ideas, and throw a cloud over his sunniest
thoughts. So far as mere popularity is con-
cerned—and afterall, we are inclined to believe,
in nine cases out Of ten, this is the true touch-
stone of desert—there is no question that the less
acquaintance with metaphysics a poet possesses
the better. Prose is the legitimate province of
this department of mind, hence that poetry is
usually the most prosing which has the strongest
leaven of it. In the drama its introduction is
particularly unseasonable. Mr. Coleridge, we
suspect, found out this in his " Remorse," when
he bewildered poor Elliston by putting into his
mouth passages which, from their refined meta-
physical character, it was impossible for him er
any other actor—the most unintellectual of
God's creatures is your high tragedy man—to
comprehend.
In his present performance Mr. Reade deals
far less in metaphysics than in his '' Cain." His
"Revolt of the Angels" ambles on at an easy pace,
unincumbered by prolix speculations on the mys-
teries of Creation. It is a dramatic poem, con-
sisting of two parts, the first of which describes
the Revolt of Lucifer and his myrmidons against
the Almighty ; the second, the Creation of
Adam and Eve, (the former by the arch-fiend,
as a means whereby he may introduce evil into
the world, the latter by the Deity himself, as a
sort of counteracting power,) and their subse-
quent Fall from Paradise. In the " Revolt of the
Angels" occurs a passage of as daring a character
as any to be met with in ancient or modern
poetry—it is the ascent of the rebellious fiends
up to the very throne of the Almighty, and their
immediate overthrow—a difficult subject to de-
scribe, but one which Mr. Reade has executed
with consummate sagacity. An ordinary poet
would have made sad work with such a descrip-
on :

" MICHAEL.
" Behold the deep and battalions front
Of th' infinite Hosts that skirt the Empyrian,
Gathering around like some ill-ornen'd cloud,
Lowering, and dark, and massive, and edged round
With lightnings and false terrors—mockery
Of Him from whom is borrow'd all ! Lo, how
Their godlike leaders, stars for ever &IN,
Are threatening in their front ! and now.—ev'n now
All fixedly and slowly are ascending,
Up to the throne itself of God !
" GABRIEL.
" What Hosts
Innumerable! what shall be the end?
" RAYHAEL.

" Already thvy close in upon and darken
The everlasting rays that shoot forth Irom
The Sanctuary of Light !
" GABRIEL.
" lie rises yet—
He enters in the very precincts of
The Holy of Holies—and they follow him!
" AkAZTIEL.
" And yet unblasted—and he still moves on !
Now by the living God, his hand is on—
[ Thunderings and Lightnings.
"
" Away !—.'tis forth—the Almighty is revealed !
" AItAZYZI.

" lie falls ! they fall by thousands and by millions—
They are hid i'tbe mass of lightnings and strange fires!
They struggle with agony a moment !—now
They are driven, crush'd as a cloud before the winds,
Melted, and scathed, and blasted, and o'erthrown !"

The characters of Adam and Eve, as em-
bodying the opposite principles of good and
evil—by the way the author's gallantry is much
to be commended, which puts forth the lady
as the representative of good—are finely discri-
minated, and stand out in forcible relief to each
other. The instinct of Eve leads her at once to
virtue; she cannot argue, she can only feel—while
Adam, whose intellect is of a sterner, coarser,
and more comprehensive cast, desires to know
the why and wherefore he should embrace good
from choice. His ruling passion is ambition,
and he chooses to be convinced of the omni-

potence of virtue through the medium rather of
reason than sensibility. Eve feels that she is
happy, and is content with this knowledge ; Adam
clings to the metaphysics of the question, and
rejects happiness if it be not received through the
medium of the intellect. This is in strict accor-
dance with man's and woman's nature. For
one man that is tolerably happy, nine women,
we verily believe, are completely so. These
restless and inquisitive yearnings—this craving
thirst for knowledge on the part of Adam
who is but a modification of Cain—
are ably depicted. Mr. Reade has here
drawn not from books, but from himself ; Ins
own heart has been his chief inspiration. The
following line, descriptive of Adam's hankering
after solitude,, is lull of vigour. He would de-
sire, he says, to dwell in utter loneliness :
" Where not a fdlling leaf might break the stillne'A•"
Equally felicitous and true to nature, is the

:r IiPITI..V7.

0

description of his feelings on bursting into •
istence. His first emotions are those of grail'
tude towards some unknown benefactor, and
bler
turns to the sun as the noblestasujeCt ta.vl .
he can offer up his tribute of adoration.
remonstrance of Eve, on discovermg
restlessness of Adam, is replete with the trilad
pathos. The lines marked in Italics are 4011
characteristic :
" ADAM.
" Nay, gentlest Evil
Think not this heart can ever swerve from thali
If it hath wander`d, it is like the bird
That leaves its bough, but to return sisie.
" Eva. • =
" Oh yes! there are longings in our baton MOP
Which not even human love san satisfy!
I know it, I have dwelt on them in Ewes.
Unknown to tbee,—for how can love breatheigr's
To sadden what it loves? I have wateta the
The setting Sun, that looks like the abode y.:l
Of glorious Spirits, the earth crowed with..llollo4,
HaPPY and young, the woods and voiceful/1010
And the blue sky enfolding, hallowing Al
And when my heart yearn'd towards tbeatiONlP
A voice bath come, a warning to me,
Not thus to set my heart upon them, koatnar-.
That I must leave them, and they
flourish at 4
And then I wept, and bless'd them,- or OSP.
Died, yet I felt they would live on unumetal?-. •
And bloom thus after, making o tv
So was my joy still touch'd
why b a gide
And oh, pan dee et ! en I beciPir:th:
Thy voice thy gentlest voice breathe 141"`"'
Sounds of deep tendernesse-.-What Mink
I 1W0.%
Thy full eyes speaking bark their love to 4
Even in those blessed moments, I 110,0
12IY, and oh, how deeply! I bee felt
113111‘ .
That we must part ! that the (Irma dalo
mere:
When thou and .I shall see each other n
When our two hearts, that new swell eaAvi
As if they should live thus entwined for Wert
And ask no heaven beyond their uman:l4ol •
Shall coldly wither to dusty
an noth
siingnme
hi/
(Bursts into tears,
d nks into
" ADAM. thoB/$4l
"My Eve ! nay talk not thus: la, bow b.
Are flowing, thick and fast as thine! Mal.
Is this stern God who gives us Para m'
And tells us we must leave it--witto ginfr
To teach what sorrows are—who gieeena
To mock it by annihilation?
" eve.
Ali
Wouldat thou then separate the little sloo,,,ioc'
We are together,—wouldst thou Wastelb/
Apart from me, in pining discontente,,
Am I too long with thee ? Oh, oleo "f:-,
Our little span of life it pass'd at
.toe the'
Like the dream of Night, how brio 1!"
4 '
think it!
mere
How wilt thou mourn we were
And then recall our once so happy
Too late—for ever, ever fled! Go
And leave me, make me not a'cold reown_::l;
On thy desires, in which I have so !Bo'
Dream of a higher state titan this; fargetji'
Thy God, and mine, and least of a 11.4-07,
Call them the ardours of a nobler b!15.....P` but
And may they lead thee to the nnb.lo'.,7iol
But when thou bast arrived; hot feeocl'7l;iia,
Attain'd the height of knowledge, 6016
A god thyself—then ask if thou art
As when thy soul's joys center'd beritt 0,7 r,
If thou art so, I tun content, eiblighllll4l,,,
My happiness can n,,e'AernAagua.in thiair,„.ol4 1.4„
" My Eve ! oh, how thy nature do,
I feel thou art superior : USA,' :4 4,1 f
Cannot be disunited from thee ; :1
There is a cursed, roam, ardent.
__IIPP!"
Within me, all unqueuchable-0:4 rR,7,1„,„
Heatless, near thee--dhalatisfied 1iP5";,04,4t
I mould that I were dead,
Look os my Maker face to/del r,•,,,kose ti.-
p
The minor poems—with ,tIYLJir.nrIPIA. a nobh
of the «Vision of Creationrs.o"`"/ ands
'-d tree)
passage descriptive of a " palate the
reflections it calls forth 110
holder—are Unworthy Mi.lßeade'Lr- taken
Pt '461
one entitled " The Discovery id to, be.
thorr
tt
from
.stn elegant little 'conceit `~~ hsg
"
" There is a pensivereal-doh liter
A joy that in this breast ,
That though to pain 11 aim s sortio
sneflo
I would not change its inage,,
For any mirth could give fropi tbv
which, we need not say,is a pidgin:is°
lines by, we believe, Rogers tool,
" Go, you may call it Madill pop
And strive to chase MY $,14, 'elp
There's such a charm 10 ;
I would not, if I weld, gillocky P'
The author's portrait is ad 111/,004 chd
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important
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rib' a
astd.iiiirteetopip'elr'sigioji°e::l.l
be above the childish vani,,ty_ft, in his isa
public
Ituidauat:cifoiifsbtdnhapr forehead ? This i'm°l' tsc
•th dark i
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owia°lr‘wwwnieVflikoliidai dtsliierelitilllgalsdyatslohsLinoaotiiibetlliscntiseigelnqpi,i)nnar contenter
part
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ourselvesowoldl et
termsi
al saying ri
so
0C ire:
hat
l
of the Angels," though unequal to
-,1 foding
'less, and depth of thought tow
dids /111
d its
the Wanderer," is yet a spiel
digni°"'
nstances, a truly sublime pro

At She
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The public will see with pleal:4 of
r'',„
fluence of Ministers in Itivernees-shiretstosees cfgorei
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reePlet ett
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CAIIOI
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LIFE OF DR. cork rue P o 000
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vA,ty,
the corrector of their error , L'.
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