The Sun.
London, England, 1842-05-09 00:00:00

LITERATURE.
A RECORD OF THE PYRAMIDS.
Saunders and Otley, London, 1842.
If Mr. Reade does not succeed as a poet, it will
certainly not be from any excess of diffidence on his
part. Indeed, we scarcely know an author who is so
little afflicted with this malady, or who—if we may
judge from his preface to the present work—thinks so
highly of his own genius, and with so little reason.
He even congratulates himself on his unpopularity,
which he seems to think is an unerring test of his
desert, and quotes a passage from Montaigne to show
that the worst writers are frequently those who have
gained most applause. Mr. Reade is welcome to all
the consolation he can derive from this reflection, but
nevertheless it is our duty to assure him that he will
never win permanent reputation as a poet, for this
conclusive reason, that he is utterly deficient in origi-
nality. He is a mere mocking-bird—the very parrot
of Parnassus. Most of his best thoughts may be traced
to Lord Byron, of whose fourth canto of "Childe
Harold," he produced a servile imitation in his
'"ltaly," with this only exception—namely, that the
spirit and feeling of the original were both most dili-
Igently omitted in the copy. In his present drama of
"A Record of the Pyramids," instead of measuring
'his strength with the illustrious Childe, he actually
!enters the lists against iEschylus, and furnishes U 3
with a new view of Prometheus, whom he represents
as an Egyptian patriot, existing at an age subsequent
to the Pyramids, notwithstanding that poetic tradi-
tion—and who but our author would dream of dis-
turbing such a legend ?—records him to have lived in
the very earliest and rudest periods of the world, cen-
turies before man had learned the art of making a
brick, much less a Pyramid ! Again, the Prometheus of
lEschylus was a god-like Titan—a dweller in the Indian
Caucasus ; the Prometheus of Mr. Reade is an Egyp-
tian twaddler, who discourses common-places about
freedom, &c., to the thick-skulled citizens of Mem-
phis. We protest against this new version of the
most sublime and imaginative legend of antiquity.
It is bad taste—to say the least of it—to tamper with
a fable " covered with the awful hoar of innumerable
ages." It was not thus that Shelley treated the sub-
ject. He took it as he found it, well knowing that
any attempt to alter its character would have been an
act of the grossest presumption... Had Mr. Reade
evinced anything like sterling genius in his " Record
of the Pyramids," we might perhaps have forgiven
him for his hardihood in venturing to disturb our
faith in the Prometheus of ./Eschylus ; but, alas, on
perusing his drama, we can detect nothing like
poetic inspiration ; much melody of versification
there undoubtedly is, and not a few graceful and
highly-wrought images ; but the "vision and the
faculty divine " are wholly wanting ; and many of the
best thoughts, sometimes even the very words, may
be traced to the pages of Byron. Our author, in fact,
is merely a dexterous imitator, alive to the mechan-
ism, but dead to the inspiration, of his art. He has a
taste, but not a genius, for the poetic, and mistakes
his tinsel for gold, simply because it has a similar
glitter. From his preface, it is evident that he con-
siders himself a singing bird of the very h'ghest order,
for, in speaking of one of his poems, he says, " I re-
solved to publish my book ; I knew the reality of the
truths which I had embodied; I felt that I was sup-
ported by them ; that they would live of them-
selves as such, if once recorded in print, and
heard among the few. I then receded from all
further effort, and returned to my seclusion, as
quietly confident of results, as if they had al•
ready happened." This tone of cool assurance is
exceedingly amusing—especially when we bear in
mind that the poem to which the author alludes, is
already forgotten, or, if remembered, remembered
only as a mere faint echo of " Childe Harold." As
for his " truths," on which he lays such stress, our
objection is, that his works contain no " truths " at
all ; that they are nothing more than adroit specimens
of versification devoid of thought, but abounding in
elegancies of diction. It is not a little singular that
in his elaborate preface Mr. Reade twice quotes from
Latin authors, and that in one of his quotations he
turns verse into prose, and in the other leaves out the
very word that gives its emphasis to the line. Thus
in the famous sentiment of Terence, " Homo sum,
nihil huntani ame alienum puto," he actually omits
the word " humani," without which the sentence has
little or no meaning ; and in the passage from Horace,
si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi."
He substitutes "sit" for "est," thereby violating the
metre equally with thi grammar. But indeed Mr.
Reade is by no means remarkable for grammatical
accuracy—such considerations are beneath the dignity
of genius !—for, alluding to the vocation of the poet,
he says, " the sense of the duty of his mission will lay
on him with the obligation of a moral law." We
should not omit to add that the "Record of the Pyra-
mids" is dedicated to Sir Robert Peel,- who, our
author seems to think, bears an extraordinary resem-
blance to Prometheus The Income-tax is certainly
a very Promethean species of impost !

THE LIFE AND LABOURS OF ADAM
CLARKE.
Longman, London, 1842.
There is much that is exceedingly interesting
in this biographical sketch of Dr. Adam Clarke,
who was one of the most learned men of his
day, and by far the most influential preacher.
among the Wesleyan class of Dissenters. Unlike
the celebrated Colonel Gardener, and many others
who have afterwards been distinguished by their
strict devotional habits, Dr. Clarke's religious im-
pressions were formed early in life, and remained
with him in unabated force down to the close of his
long, useful, and honourable career. As a preFher,
he was remarkable for the fervour of his manner, and
the simple, but emphatic eloquence of his style ; and
produced effects on his congregations second only to
those produced by his celebrated predecessor, John
Wesley. Yet he never made the slightest prepara-
tion for his sermons—never knew beforehand one
single 'sentence that he should utter; notwithstand-
ing which his discourses, we are assured,
seldom occupied less than one hour in the
delivery, and sometimes they occupied as much
as two. His son thus describes his father's
preaching :—" The appearance of my father, and his
pulpitthis--te would see a person
beffiyecbte, wsohmileethinintghelikeupon a stranger would pro-
of no particular mark, except that time had turned
his hair to silver, and the calmness of fixed devotion
gave solemnity to his appearance. He spreads his
Bible before him, and opening his hymn-book, reads
forth in a clear, distinct, full voice, a few verses,
after the singing of which he offers up a short prayer,
which is immediately felt to be addressed to the
majesty of Heaven. The text is proclaimed, and
the discourse is begun. My father hardly ever
wrote a line as a preparation for preaching.
I have now in my possesion a slip of paper,
about three inches long by one wide, containing
the first words of a number of texts, and this was the
sole list of memoranda on which he preached seven
occasional sermons in various parts of the country.
He never entered the pulpit but with diffidence, and
with almost a painful sensation of his responsibility
as a messenger of the Gospel of Christ Jesus." Doctor
Clarke was born in the obscure village of Moybeg, in
the county of Londonderry, somewhere about 1760,
and died of malignant cholera at Bayswater, in the
August of 1832.