qualities of the mind of Fletcher are fancy and ingenuity. His poem is too much cumbered with ornament, which is sometimes gorgeous, and sometimes fantastic.-The title of " The Purple Island is most attractive and most fallacious." If a reader should take it up, (as would probably be the case with those who are ignorant of its nature,) with the expectation of finding some delightful story of romantic fiction, what must be his disappointment to plunge at once into an anatomical lecture in verse on the human frame-to find that the poet had turned topographer of an island founded upon human bones, with veins for its thousand small brooks, and arteries for its larger streams; and that the mountains and valleys with which it is diversified are neither more nor less than the inequalities and undulations of this microcosm? He might perhaps persevere, through the whole of the second canto, in the continued hope that it would soon be over; but when he had achieved this task, and found that he had only made one quarter of the survey, he must of necessity be constrained to lay it down in despair. This is not the case with us-we are in the habit of encountering such difficulties, and are not disheartened by slight obstructions or disappointments.-Such books come immediately within the range of one branch of our undertaking. But to return to the " Purple Island."--After enumerating with great minuteness and considerable ingenuity the different parts of the body, and their several functions, the author goes on to describe the qualities of the mind-and here the subject gives him a little more scope. The passions are next described in still more poetical colours. The virtuous qualities of the heart, under the command of Eclecta, or Intellect, are then attacked by the vices. After a severe struggle, an angel* appears at a very critical moment, and decides the contest in favor of the former.-Such is the outline of the Purple Island. We now proceed to make a few extracts from it, which would be considered eminently poetical if we could keep the " Faery Queen" out of view. The description of Parthenia, or Chastity, is in many respects a close imitation of the Belphœbe of Spenser. Nearly the whole of the sentiments of Spenser are transferred into this description, with different degrees of colourable alteration, except the second stanza, which is certainly beautiful. In those parts in which he has deviated from his prototype, (and which we shall omit,) he has fallen into coldness and bad taste. * Will our readers believe that this angel was the Rev. Phineas Fletcher's Sovereign Lord, King James the First, to whom he pays this most ridiculous and disgusting compliment? With her, her sister went, a warlike Maid, Parthenia*, all in steel and gilded arms; Her goodly armour seem'd a garden green, Where thousand spotless lilies freshly blew; And on her shield the lone bird might be seen, Th' Arabian bird, shining in colours new; Itself unto itself was only mate; Ever the same, but new in newer date : And underneath was writ 'Such is chaste single state.' Thus hid in arms she seem'd a goodly knight,. And fit for any warlike exercise: But when she list lay down her armour bright, Choice nymph! the crown of chaste Diana's train, Upon her brows lies his bent ebon bow, And ready shafts; deadly those weapons show; Yet sweet the death appear'd, lovely that deadly blow. * A bed of lilies flow'r upon her cheek, And in the midst was set a circling rose; * Chastity. Whose sweet aspect would force Narcissus seek To deck his beauteous head in snowy 'tire ; But all in vain: for who can hope t' aspire Her ruby lips lock up from gazing sight A troop of pearls, which march in goodly row: And with rare musick charm the ravish'd ears, Daunting bold thoughts, but cheering modest fears: The spheres so only sing, so only charm the spheres. Her dainty breasts, like to an April rose From green silk fillets yet not all unbound, Yet all these stars which deck this beauteous sky As when a taper shines in glassy frame, The sparkling crystal burns in glitt'ring flame, This passage, if it were original, would be considered fine and highly creditable to the talents of the author. But in majesty-in grace and voluptuous harmony of expression-in all that is most delicious in poetry-it is at an immeasurable distance from the Belphobe of Spenser. Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not, But hevenly pourtraict of bright Angels' hew, In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame, She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace desyre. Her yvorie forehead, full of bountie brave, Upon her eyelids many Graces sate, Under the shadow of her even browes Working belgardes and amorous retrate; So faire, and thousand thousand times more faire, Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne, All bard with golden bendes which were entayl'd In a rich jewell, and therein entrayl'd The ends of all the knots, that none might see Like two faire marble pillours they were seene, Which doe the temple of the Gods support, Those same with stately grace and princely port And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held, Her yellow lockes, crisped like golden wyre, As through the flouring forrest rash she fled, In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap, What a piece of " dulcet and harmonious music" is this! it is the murmuring of the golden stream of Pactolus of old; but we cannot find words to express the extent of our delight, and we must leave it to the fancy of our readers to frame fit epithets of admiration. Let the reader compare this description with that of Parthenia, and particularly the lines in italics with Fletcher's imitations of them. It is but fair, however, to select something, in which our author has improved Spenser-his description of Envy, for instance, which, although it betrays the place from which it came, is superior to Spenser's-it is more dignified; Spenser's is more wild-the latter has also given a description of the physical qualities; Fletcher has only delineated those of the mind. |