Having thus associated himself with Milton, the Dr. proceeds to inform us that, in the Deluge, he at length found a theme “exalted and extensive enough for the exercise of poetic talents of the highest order,” leaving us, a second time, to infer, what he is too modest except to insinuate, that his own genius is unequalled. He then calls our attention to the plot, asserting that the general “plan and scope” of a poem are second only to its theme—that is, that diction, style, and imagination, in short every requisite of a true poet, are but “flimsy stuff.” The Dr. seems to know his own weak points, and when the “galled jade winces;” but even his elaborated plot is worse than nine men out of ten would construct. We have gleaned little from it except a few facts, which would be strange, were they not ridiculous. There is a description of a harem in the second book, from which we learn that velvets, and embroidery were as much in vogue among the antediluvians as now; an account of a siege in the eighth book, which settles the disputed question, whether Greek fire, melted lead, and catapults, were used then or not; and a detail of a battle in the same book, which gives the divisions and manœuvres of the contending armies, and puts at rest the assertions of military men, who trace our present tactics back no farther than the invention of gunpowder. Besides this, there are two marriages—a rescued maiden—one or more heroes, and as many heroines, with an innumerable catalogue of minor incidents, in short, the materials of a half a dozen bad novels, woven into a worse poem. We are told in the outset that the “versification is not particularly modelled after that of any preceding author,” and that our classic poets afford no style “exactly suitable for this work,” and, consequently, we are but little astonished when we meet with such passages as the following: “Subservient to the foul, malignant fiends, The abandoned race of Cain their God forsook, And to the infernal agents gave their hearts. Oh! preference worse than foolish, choice insane! Which drove celestial spirits from their charge Of guardianship o’er human feebleness, And left the hapless Cainites in the power Of hellish tyrants, whom they blindly served, Lured by the sensual pleasures amply given In transient, poisonous recompense for guilt.” _Page 14._ Or this: “Here reigned the fierce Shalmazar, giant king, _Sprung from a mixture of infernal strain_, His sire, the power of lewdness, Belial named, Who, amorous of an earth-born beauty, won Astoreth, princess of Gal-Cainah’s realm, To his unhallowed love.” _Page 16._ What the meaning of the author is in the line above italicised, we challenge all Christendom to discover. But even no sense at all, is better than mere verbiage, or coarse or improbable metaphor, as thus: