The author of _Charlemagne_ has constructed his hell upon an entirely new and fanciful theory. We see no sort of reason why Satan should not, in strict propriety, sit upon a throne; nor why his followers should be degraded from the rank of fallen angels into modern French revolutionists. We like Milton’s account much better in all respects; and our author himself, as is the natural consequence of all affectation, flounders into contradiction in the very next verse, where he gives a most superb account of Lucifer. In the same spirit, he has made a more enlightened distribution of crimes and punishments; and established an entire new set of regulations and bye-laws in the regions of the damned. Alexander and the two Brutuses figure there with Cain and other murderers, while ‘the noble Cæsar’ is exempted. Now we have no notion of such a philosophical hell as our poetical casuist would carve out. This celebrated place is, we think, of all others the least liable to plans of reform. It is almost the oldest establishment upon record, and placed quite out of the reach of the progress of reason and metaphysics. We hate disputes in poetry, still more than in religion. At least, whatever appeals to the imagination, ought to rest on undivided sentiment, on one undisputed tradition, one catholic faith.[22] Besides, the whole account of the infernal regions is an excrescence, equally misplaced and improbable. None of the heroes of the poem descend there, but as Satan is brought thence to appear to Charlemagne in the shape of a lying priest, this opportunity is taken to describe the geography of the place according to the latest discoveries. There is one point in which we agree with the poet, _viz._ in his indignation against tyrants and their flatterers, though he does not go so far as honest Quevedo, who, when his hero wonders to see so few kings in hell, makes his guide reply sullenly, ‘Here are all that ever reigned.’ We shall conclude our remarks on this part of the poem with the author’s description of the punishment of Cain, which we think the most striking. ‘Ici rugit Cain, les cheveux hérissés, Et portant sur son front la marque sanguinaire. “Cain, Cain, réponds: qu’as-tu fait de ton frère?” A cette voix du Ciel tous ses sens sont glacés; Cain croit voir Abel éclatant de lumière; Et d’un bras téméraire, Il ose encor frapper l’objet de son courroux: Il voudrait le priver d’une seconde vie: Mais l’ombre glorieuse échappant à ses coups, Redouble dans son cœur les tourments de l’envie.’ THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED _The Champion._] [_December 25, 1814._