going round about the bush to hint what the poet himself has so unblushingly and sinfully blazoned forth in every part of his production.  With him, it is quite evident that the Jupiter whose downfall has been predicted by Prometheus, means nothing more than Religion in general, that is, every human system of religious belief; and that, with the fall of this, he considers it perfectly necessary (as indeed we also believe, though with far different feelings) that every system of human government also should give way and perish.  The patience of the contemplative spirit in Prometheus is to be followed by the daring of the active demagorgon, at whose touch all “old thrones” are at once and for ever to be cast down into the dust.  It appears too plainly, from the luscious pictures with which his play terminates, that Mr. Shelley looks forward to an unusual relaxation of all moral rules—­or rather, indeed, to the extinction of all moral feelings, except that of a certain mysterious indefinable kindliness, as the natural and necessary result of the overthrow of all civil government and religious belief.  It appears, still more wonderfully, that he contemplates this state of things as the ideal SUMMUM BONUM.  In short, it is quite impossible that there should exist a more pestiferous mixture of blasphemy, sedition, and sensuality, than is visible in the whole structure and strain of this poem—­which, nevertheless, and notwithstanding all the detestation its principles excite, must and will be considered by all that read it attentively, as abounding in poetical beauties of the highest order—­as presenting many specimens not easily to be surpassed, of the moral sublime of eloquence—­as overflowing with pathos, and most magnificent in description.  Where can be found a spectacle more worthy of sorrow than such a man performing and glorying in the performance of such things?  His evil ambition,—­from all he has yet written, but most of all, from what he has last and best written, his Prometheus,—­appears to be no other, than that of attaining the highest place among those poets,—­enemies, not friends, of their species, who, as a great and virtuous poet has well said (putting evil consequence close after evil cause).

Profane the God-given strength, and mar the lofty line.

We should hold ourselves very ill employed, however, were we to enter at any length into the reprehensible parts of this remarkable production.  It is sufficient to shew, that we have not been misrepresenting the purpose of the poet’s mind, when we mention, that the whole tragedy ends with a mysterious sort of dance, and chorus of elemental spirits, and other indefinable beings, and that the SPIRIT OF THE HOUR, one of the most singular of these choral personages, tells us: 

                  I wandering went
  Among the haunts and dwellings of mankind,
  And first was disappointed not to see
  Such mighty change as I had felt within
  Expressed in other things; but soon I looked,
  And behold!  THRONES WERE KINGLESS, and men walked
  One with the other, even as spirits do, etc.