instantly admits, it does not derive from Nature; but its poetical beauty depends upon Nature; for the sails would not swell, the streamers would not flow, the motion would cease-its LIFE, which Mr. Campbell, speaks of, would be extinct.

But you say the poetry of the ship does not depend on the waves, &c. I think it does, for this reason,-that all this beauty, motion, and life, would be at once lost and extinct. True, nor can I for a moment think otherwise; thus seen, and thus associated, "the ship confers its own poetry upon the waters, and heightens theirs," but NOT BEFORE elements of Nature have ENABLED IT TO DO SO; and, therefore, its primary poetical beauty depends on Nature, not Art.

You say, take away the WINDS and waves, and there will be NO SHIP at all! Then its very existence depends on them! And" take away the sun, and you must read Mr. Bowles's pamphlet by candle-light." Read it how or when you will, the sun will be more poetical than a candle; and the seas, that " speak in the EAST and the WEST AT ONCE," will not depend on the ship for poetical sublimity, (but the ship will on them,) any more than the sun will depend upon Lord Byron's poetry. And then I ask you, my Lord, this question, (begging you to remember my principles only require that the works of Nature, which are beautiful and sublime, are more poetical, abstractedly, than any works of Art,)-whether the sun, the waves, and winds are, per se, more poetical without the ship, or the ship, per se, without the waves, &c. &c.? The poetry, therefore, is not reciprocal; for the ship can give no beauty till the elements of Nature, on which its beauty depends, enable it to do so. Then it gives and receives. But, my Lord, you must remember, that when I answered Mr. Campbell, (and I do not think either he or your Lordship can make my good ship surrender,) he made no distinction at all, but colored his rich descriptions with all the hues of Nature, and then advanced to show the poetical beauties of

ART.

.

But the water is calm, and its monotony requires to be broken; and this "calmness," which is one feature of this mighty element, may be contemplated at Wapping, in, the London Dock, Paddington Canal, a horse-pond, or any other vessel!

No: for though the water at Wapping, the London Dock, in the Paddington Canal, a HORSE-POND, or any OTHER vessel, be calm, it is not poetical. But your argument is this: "The sea is calm; the water in a horse-pond, or any other

vessel, is calm; therefore the calm water in a horse-pond is as poetical as the sea!" No, my Lord: for the sea cannot be made unpoetical, and your great powers cannot make the water in a horse-pond, or ANY OTHER VESSEL, poetical: and I will conclude with Cowper's description of the calm sea, whom, however, you call NO POET, and whom I think an original, pathetic, and great poet.

"OCEAN exhibits, fathomless and broad,
Much of the power and majesty of God!
He swathes about the swelling of the deep,
That shines and rests, as infants smile and sleep,
Vast as it is, it answers, as it flows,

The breathings of the lightest air that blows.
Curling and whitening over all the waste,

The rising waves obey the increasing blast."

But we must stop before the storm comes on, for I wish only to show how this "monotonous" object can, in its calmest state, and without a single ship, or any accompaniments, be rendered poetical.

In fact, it does not seem to me, that your Lordship makes distinction between the SEA in painting, and the SEA in poetry.

"The sun is poetical," by your Lordship's admission; and to our cost, you say, by the many descriptions in verse. To which sentence I do not accede, as we possibly might have lost some of your own most beautiful descriptions. But to follow your argument.

"If the waves bore only foam upon their bosoms; if the winds wafted only sea-weed to the shore; if the sun shone neither upon pyramids, nor fleets, nor fortresses, would its beams be equally poetical?" Answer:

The sun would be equally poetical, let it shine on what it may. If the waves bore only foam upon their bosoms, the ocean would be equally sublime, far from every track of vessel, every intrusion of man.

The ocean, I affirm, wants not the accessaries of any thing human to make it SUBLIME, and therefore poetical. It is poetical, though not equally picturesque or beautiful, with or without them. The ideas it excites of Almighty power are those of sublimity, the highest poetical sublimity, which proudly rejects any associations or accessaries of human art, or of human kind, to make it more so. "The deep uttereth his voice," is one of the most sublime of the many sublime passages relating to it in the scriptures. We have no occasion to make it more poetical to say, "there go the ships;" but the ship, moving beautiful to the sight, and almost seeming,

as it were, a creature of the vast element, and made doubly interesting, as an object of beauty, by those accessaries of Nature, without which it is nothing; a ship so seen adds to the picture of poetical beauty, but not to the more awful ideas of SUBLIMITY, which are far more poetical. In sunshine, in calm, in tempest, by night, by day, in its deepest solitudes, it wants nothing of Art to make it sublime, as speaking every where, "in the east and in the west,” in the north and the south, with one everlasting voice, "Infinitude and Power." What can be more sublime than this verse of the Psalmist?" If I take the wing of the morning, and dwell in the UTTERMOST PARTS OF THE SEA, even there shall thy hand lead me."

The studies of my profession have carried me to the consideration of all the ancient heresies. The Valentinian Creed proclaims, "In the beginning were DEPTH, and SILENCE!" Endless space, and eternal silence! and these ideas alone arè SUBLIME. How directly and gloriously opposed to this idea is the opening of the gospel of St. John. "IN THE BEGIN NING was THE WORD, and the WORD was with God, and the WORD was GOD." And sublime as the former ideas may be, because they are connected with terror, the passage from St. John is far more striking; seeming like an echo to the words, "And God said, Let there be LIGHT: and there WAS LIGHT!”- -a God, and a Creator, and a Saviour, REVEALED.

I hope, as your Lordship, in your pamphlet, professes so great a regard for ETHICS, and ethic poetry, in which I most cordially agree, this observation will be excused.

To return: "if the waves bore only foam upon their bosoms;"" if the winds wafted only sea-weed to the shore;"-"if the sun had neither pyramids, nor fleets, nor for tresses, to shine upon;" if it shone upon none of the emmets of earth, man, or his little works; it would be equally a stupendous object, in the visible creation, per se, abstractedly, and equally SUBLIME; and it would be poetical, equally pootical, whether it shone on pyramids or posts, fortresses, or "pigsties," a" brass warming-pan, or a footman's livery," though neither pigsties, or posts, could be sublime or beautiful, with or without it.

Pyramids, I repeat, are most poetical from associations; and fortresses also: but brass warming-pans are images of in-door Nature, and footmen's liveries are images of "artificial" life; and to say, that, because the sun can make one object poetical, it must necessarily make ANOTHER So, is not an argument worthy of Lord Byron; and I am afraid we must say of

! These ideas in the VALENTINIAN Creed were personified.

the "sun" shining upon your "warming-pan" and "footman's livery," as of the" hog in a high wind,'

"It grieves me much, replied the Clerk again,
Who speaks so well, should ever speak in vain."

But how much genuine poetry is condensed in one line, where a ship is spoken of,

"SAILING IN SUNSHINE, FAR AWAY!"

As for the sun on Mr. Campbell's ship, if the ship did not want the sun, to give it more poetical interest, why did Mr. Campbell think it necessary to introduce the sun at all? "But the ship gives, as well as it receives:" so seen, it gives beauty, animating beauty, to the seas, not to the sun. It gives back, indeed, and amply repays what it receives; but does a brass warming-pan give back any poetical beauty?

"The sun shines white upon the rocks!"

The sun shines white upon the warming-pan :

and so the sun shines on Dr. Syntax's wig; but try the effect,

"Pale on the lone tower falls the evening beam."

Pale on my grey-wig falls the evening beam.

Therefore Mr. Campbell introduced the sun needlessly, if it did not make the ship more poetical; but though the ship (being itself especially so adorned, as if it came and went NATURE'S chief favorite and delight among the works of art) gives, as well as it receives, beauty; a footman's livery does not do so, my Lord, any more than an old wig, upon which the sun equally shines, as on the Hellespont, or the crest of Hector.

As to seas without a ship, or with a ship upon the STOCKS, I appeal to our friend Crabbe. He is my neighbour; and though we scarce ever talk of criticism, in his absence I may venture to quote a little from a poem of his, as the description bears on the point; and your Lordship does not, I believe, reckon him among those whom you are pleased to call "náturals." He describes the sea in such a manner as I think might rival the greatest poet that ever lived. He shall give us the sea without a ship; and what is more to the purpose, a ship ON THE STOCKS!

"The sea without a ship."

"With ceaseless motion comes and goes the tide,
FLOWING it fills the channel VAST and WIDE;
Then back to sea with strong majestic sweep
IT ROLLS, in ebb, yet terrible and deep!"

I need not point out to your Lordship the effect of, the metre,

and the imagery:

VOL. XVIII.

"Then Back to SEA with strong majestic sweep
IT ROLLS."

Next we have a little of ART.

"Here samphire banks, and salt-wort bound the flood,
Here STAKES," &c.

1 will leave Crabbe a moment; and as your Lordship seems to think, (mistaking, it appears to me, the poetical for the picturesque,) that the sea is more poetical (more picturesque it certainly is) with ships than without them, I will take an exquisite picture, which you may possibly recognise.

"He that has sail'd upon the dark blue sea,
Has view'd at times, I ween, a full fair sight;
When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be,
The white sail set, the gallant frigate tight;
Masts, spires, and strand retiring to the right,
The glorious main expanding o'er the bow,
The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight,
The dullest sailer wearing bravely now,

Su gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow."
Childe Harold.

I fear your Lordship with your ships will have it hollow; but before I go back to Crabbe, to have fair play, I would take another picture from Dyer; which, except your Lordship's, is the finest description in the world. "Now," &c.

"Glide the tall fleet into the widening main,

A floating forest: ev'ry sail unfurl'd,
Swells to the wind-&c.

Meantime in pleasing course the pilot steers,
STEADY, with eye intent upon the steel,
STEADY before the winds the pilot steers,
While gaily o'er the waves the mountain prows
Dance, like a sпOAL Of DOLPHINS, and begin
To streak with various paths the hoary deep.
Yet steady o'er the waves they steer, and now
The fluctuating WORLD of WATERS WIDE,

IN BOUNDLESS MAGNITUDE, around them swell,
O'er whose imaginary brim, nor TOWNS,

Nor woods, nor mountain tops, nor ought appears;
But Phœbus orb, refulgent lamp of light.

MILLIONS OF LEAGUES ALOFT.'

Hang "Phoebus" and refulgent "lamp!" But do you not think the latter part of this description most poetical, with the boundless seas, and the sun's sole orb, as it would be, if accompanied with the gondolas of Venice, or if the ships were entirely omitted, though not so BEAUTIFULLY picturesque?

The ships, however, are still careering in the breeze and sunshine, therefore we will return for a moment to CRABEE, to show some of the infinitude of this said SEA's poetical beauties without ships.