ot, and yet live?
By Isis, no. And thou wilt turn away,
Iron, marble mockman! Ah! I hold thy life!
Love feeds on death. It swallows up all life,
Hugging, or killing. I to woo, and thou--
Unhappy me! Oh!

The language here is certainly rapid and broken, and the expression
'marble mockman' is, we suppose, figurative, but the passage can scarcely
be described as poetical, though it fulfils all Mr. Buchan's conditions.
Still, tedious as Zuleekha and Joseph are, the Chorus of Ancients is much
worse. These 'ideal spectators' seem to spend their lives in uttering
those solemn platitudes that with the aged pass for wisdom. The chief
offenders are the members of what Mr. Buchan calls 'The
2nd.--Semi-chorus,' who have absolutely no hesitation in interrupting the
progress of the play with observations of this kind:

2ND.--semi-chorus

Ah! but favour extreme shown to one
Among equals who yet stand apart,
Awakeneth, say ye, if naturally,
The demons--jealousy, envy, hate,--
In the breast of those passed by.

It is a curious thing that when minor poets write choruses to a play they
should always consider it necessary to adopt the style and language of a
bad translator. We fear that Mr. Bohn has much to answer for.

God's Garden is a well-meaning attempt to use Nature for theological and
educational purposes. It belongs to that antiquated school of thought
that, in spite of the discoveries of modern science, invites the sluggard
to look at the ant, and the idle to imitate the bee. It is full of false
analogies and dull eighteenth-century didactics. It tells us that the
flowering cactus should remind us that a dwarf may possess mental and
moral qualities, that the mountain ash should teach us the precious
fruits of affliction, and that a fond father should learn from the
example of the chestnut that the most beautiful children often turn out
badly! We must admit that we have no sympathy with this point of view,
and we strongly protest against the idea that

The flaming poppy, with its black core, tells
Of anger's flushing face, and heart of sin.

The worst use that man can make of Nature is to turn her into a mirror
for his own vices, nor are Nature's secrets ever disclosed to those who
approach her in this spirit. However, the author of this irritating
little volume is not always botanising and moralising in this reckless
and improper fashion. He h