relaxations become the most dignified moments of our existence.

Will Science bend from her throne, or Philosophy relax her stateliness, to attend us in our brighter moments and regulate our pleasures? Science and Philosophy we must follow for their favours; but lovely, lovely Poetry condescends to be our companion. Poetry pos

sesses an attribute of which all her sisters are destitute. The mind must conform itself to them; but Poetry conforms herself to the mind; she accompanies it in every varied posture and every delicate inflection,-in buoyancy, and exertion, and indolence.

It is this insinuation into all our pleasures, which gives her a species of omnipresence; for, to him who loves her,-where is not Poetry?

And believe not those who tell you that she will seduce the youthful mind from severe occupations-that science is excluded from

her

power, and philosophy from the heaven of her conversation. In the first In the first ages of man, the Sciences entered the world in the disguise of Poetry. Morality it not only taught but impelled.. Instruction was conveyed not by pre

He

ceptive sternness, but by the burst of inspiration. The bard was then all in all. accounted for the phenomena of nature; he inquired into the essence of the mind; and the savage looked up to him for the ethics that were to regulate his conduct. Poetry (it is known) had an early and intimate connexion with Astronomy: some say that she was born in yonder starry sphere, that she first descended upon man, in the dews of heaven, while gazing on the firmament; and the first music that saluted mortal ears, was the harmony of the morning stars: and, in process of greater refinement, when Poetry and Philosophy were necessarily distinguished, yet did their union and attachment still remain. Together they visited the same happy plains: the Muses danced in the groves of Academus; and Greece gave the world at once its sages and its bards.

But didactic poetry not only admits, but requires the co-operation of Philosophy and Science; and our bold and independent language, by removing the barriers of rhyme, has thrown open to both a wider range for combined exertion. Then doubt not the rapturous exclamation of that sightless bard, who could

penetrate all the mysteries of the one, and tasted all the joys and consolations of the other, when he cried in admiration,

"How charming is divine Philosophy!"

for he found it

❝musical as is Apollo's lyre."

O divine preceptress! that extinguishes no youthful ardour, but sends it kindling up to heaven,-that collects all the riches of the material creation, to beautify and illustrate the moral world,—that, by instilling admiration of what is lovely and sublime, assimulates the soul to what it admires,-that, setting unattainable perfection in the eye of youth, yet renders it so fascinating that he cannot but proceed.

But the science with Poetry loves most to study and to inculcate, is the philosophy of human nature, -the science of the human heart. The man of the world will tell you that he understands it, and will send you to the world as the source of his knowledge. He has collected a few loathsome and selfish depravities, and bestows them, without distinction of

character, as the attributes of the whole human race; and the result of all his important calculations, mighty researches, and accumulated experience, is caution, distrust, and a contracted heart. But do not you likewise; do you look upon your common nature with hearts full of sensibility; weak as it is, contemplate its grand and generous faculties, as well as its baser ingredients;-let it be yours to pity—perhaps to improve it. Poetry, both ancient and modern, presents the heart and passions perpetually to our contemplation.

The criticism of Poetry is perhaps the best introduction to an analysis of the human mind. The dreariness of metaphysical abstraction has often deterred genius from attempting a rugged pursuit, in which the mind is almost always fugitive, and will not pause to admit of a near inspection: but to ascertain the nature of the sublime, the beautiful, and picturesque,-to investigate the sources of our purest pleasures, and cultivate a taste, quick, delicate, and philosophical, - these bestow a gracefulness

and elegance upon metaphysical disquisitions, that relax their sternness, and invite to more profound investigation. Nor would they merely invite, they would advance, they would enliven our progress; and a sensibility of taste would make us acquainted with many a posture, and many a nice inflection of the mind, which logical and unrefined penetration would never have discovered.

*

But the man of the world interposes, and tells us our joys are but ideal. Poor wretch! and what are your realities? The smile of capricious royalty, which the next hour's detraction may turn to a frown; the shout of a stupid multitude, which scarcely waits a change of sentiment before it becomes the hiss of detestation; the roar of nocturnal intemperance, which soon dies away in the groans of an expiring constitution; a catalogue of possessions, which extravagance may dissipate, which the robber may enjoy, and which war and the elements may annihilate; and, when sorrow and misfortune shall send you to your own heart for consolation, you will find it without ima