cles untouched.-First, as there are vices which love the busy hum of a public school, so there are vices perhaps full as bad, which love solitude, and flourish in the shade of private tuition; such are obstinacy and closeness of disposi tion. Secondly, though a private plan of education may be the best calculated to communicate a modest assurance in company, (and let it be remembered that this concession is made on the supposition that a boy privately educated is often introduced into company,) yet tea-table society can never impart that knowledge of the world which is essential to all firmness of character, so well as the constant intercourse which a boy at school has with those of his own age,when the passions have free play, and the forming mind of each companion is seen unreserved and unveiled.

From the solitude or (as he expresses it) the duality of the poet's situation during almost the whole period in which these letters were written, little connected with the literary, and still less with the gay part of the world, the reader is denied that sort of pleasure which the letters of poets or men of condition usually afford in anecdotes of contemporary authors and a view of the literature of their day. Cowper, and Cowper only, forms the subject of the canvass. But this subject of still life is so full of tender melancholy, so domestic, so devout, and so amiably good, that it is all we need. We accompany the poet from his hares to bis Homer, from his Task to his singing-birds, without being often tired. What strikes a reader of his letters above all, iş that playfulness of humour in which they abound, notwithstanding the sombre complexion of bis mind; and what adds to this surprise and offers a large field of contemplation to the metaphysician, is that the liveliest letters were written in his darkest mood. Even John Gilpin, we are told, was the produce of a fit of melancholy, and what has made all the world laugh was baptised in its parent's tears. Thus the drollest combinations of images sometimes offer themselves to the mind in its least energetic state, as sick children complain of seeing strange distorted visages pass over the retina of their fancies when asleep.

As so many of Cowper's letters are on the subject of his translation of Homer, it may not be amiss to say a few words on that work, especially as there seems to be still a difference of opinions as to its merits. That there are in his translation many particular speeches and some descriptions and similes very respectably executed, cannot be denied. But, taking it as a whole, the work is certainly deficient in ease, harmony, strength, and spirit. If he had not been prevailed on by injudicious advisers to discard the antique

phraseology which, it seems, he at first adopted, it would have been much better. As it is, we regret that he was not employed rather in original composition, particularly in exe cuting his favourite project of a poem on the four ages of man. For, after all, what has he done as a translator? He has done just enough to frighten after-comers from attempting the task of translating Homer, without doing enough to make them unnecessary; he has silenced future rivals without satisfying the public; in short, he has occupied a vacuum, without filling it up himself.

The letters contained in the supplementary pages' before us, are almost all addressed to the Rev. Walter Bagot. Very few of them are distinguished by any thing which can make them otherwise valuable than as completing the quarto edition. Nor are the supplements to the life of any great import, except the very melancholy account of the loss of Cowper's intimate friend, Samuel Rose, esq. This amiable and promising man, just as he was beginning to advance in his profession, was cut off by a rapid decline in his 38th year, leaving a young family behind him.

With regard to Mr. Hayley's execution of his office as a biographer and a critic upon his friend's works, there are one or two things objectionable. We receive very little information respecting the poet's studies and connections while a student in the Temple. But allowances must assuredly be made to Mr. H. in consideration that his acquaintance with Cowper was commenced late, and indeed continued almost entirely by letter. But what is most displeasing, is that though he frequently expatiates upon his author's character and poetical talents, we have abundance of general praise, but of discrimination not a syllable. We are put off with such fine phrases, as this fascinating bard,' 'this enchanting writer,this interesting invalid, &c.' words that may be applied to many others; while for an appropriate estimation of his merits the reader is left to himself. This is disgusting; let us have distinctive commendation, or none at all. Besides, Cowper, as an original poet, has many graces peculiar to himself, or at least such as few besides himself have equally attained, and which therefore it is the office of biography raisonnée to point out. He excels, for instance, in reducing to practice that precept of Horace which directs the poet to give to common colloquial expressions an air of novelty and fresh energy, by applying them with dexterity. Shakespear shines particularly in this piece of poetical necromancy, as Hurd has shewn in his notes on the passage alluded to; and it is what gives the principal charm to

Cowper's poetry. To cite an instance or two from the admirable fragment on Yardley Oak:

— a skipping deer With pointed hoof dibbling the ground.

Thus to Time

The task was left to whittle thee away

With his sly scythe, whose ever-nibbling edge,' &c.&c. Instances might be multiplied without end; but we must leave them at present to the observation of those who, when they are pleased with what they read, are also curious to know why they are pleased. What we have said is sufficient to show that a reader of Cowper may find scope for particular, as well as general praise

Mr H. has prefaced his third volume with what he calls desultory remarks on epistolary composition,' in which, bating some information respecting foreign letter-writers, he skips about without affording much amusement. He considers Pope's letter to Lord Hervey as a most acute, polished, and triumphant invective. For ourselves, we think it marked not so much by a proud and manly contempt, as by a pitiful and peevish spirit of revenge. Compare it with Dr. Johnson's famous letter to Lord Chesterfield, and the contrast will shew the difference between the resentment of a great and of a little mind. He then steps forward in defence of Pope's letters, which Cowper, with many others, has observed to be full of formality and studied wit. what is the sum of his apology? Merely that there are a few of his letters in which these faults are not quite so glaring, and that in other respects they are valuable: all which we may safely grant, and still abide by the general opinion, that Pope's letters are for the most part full of affected point, and not the genuine language of the heart, as all letters ought to be. Non defensoribus istis Tempus eget.'

But

In the supplementary pages we are amused with a rejoinder of Mr. H. to Mr. Cumberland on the subject of the great Bentley. Mr. H. it seems had been bold enough to utter reflections on the Doctor's taste. At this Mr. C. takes fire, and moreover accuses the said Mr. H. of the high crime and misdemeanour of writing verses in his (Mr. C's) praise; and with respect to his grandfather, assures the world, that so far is Mr. H.'s scandaleus assertion from truth, that nobody could be more amiable than the Doctor was in his own family. How are these dreadful conflicts to be settled? not, we fear, pulveris exigui juctu. At any rate we shall hasten our retreat from this interesting fray, recommending Mr. H. before he returns to the engagement to inform himself,

whether the slashing Doctor's desperate hook is not come down as a legacy to his grandson; for should this horrid weapon lurk concealed in his antagonist's hands, who knows but that the same havock which befel the Paradise Lost may await the Triumphs of Temper? Seriously, we are surprised that men of sense and talents should waste their time in such unprofitable disputations.

Before we conclude this article, it may be right to apprize the reader, that the project of a public monument to the memory of Cowper is finally laid aside, and that the money raised by the sale of the Latin and Italian Poems of Milton, translated by Cowper, with some Fragments of his Dissertations on the Paradise Lost,' shortly to be published in quarto at the price of two guineas, is to be applied to raise a fund for the education and establishment of a godson of Cowper's, lately become an orphan. We heartily approve this change, and hope the generosity of the public will bring it to good effect. The translations advertised have certainly been hitherto a desideratum, and from the few specimens of them given in Mr. Hayley's Life of Milton some years ago, we recommend every person of taste to subscribe.

ART. VI.-Torio-Whiggo-Machia; or the Battle of the Whigs and Tories, a political Satire. Iu four Cantos. 4to. Ebers. 1806.

THERE is no species of composition which fewer writers have cultivated, and in which fewer have arrived at distinction, than satirical poetry. The author of the Pursuits of Literature confines the merit of having attained any degree of excellence to six, Horace, Persius, and Juvenal among the Romans; Boileau in France; and Dryden and Pope among our countrymen; we think that he himself can have no claim to enter that list, from which he has, rather fastidiously, excluded Churchill.

It is to be regretted that this powerful scourge of immorality has not more frequently inflicted its lash on notorious delinquents. Personal satire has indeed often been reprobated, and we admit that the reformation of individuals is rarely effected by punishment of any kind: but the salutary terror which it strikes into the breast of others, is the effect on which its expediency rests. Animated invective against particular vices and follies may represent them in all their native deformity or absurdity, and excite abhorrence and comtempt in the mind of a reader previously disposed to virtue; but much greater effect will no doubt be produced by the

examples of a Tigellius or a Messalina, of a Warton or a Chartres, held forth to public detestation and damned to everlasting fame' by the pen of the satirist. But if it is a subject for regret that this literary tribunal has so rarely taken cognizance of private morals, it is still more so withi regard to public virtue. The former derives some aid from the laws; any attempt to interfere with the latter has been generally (we night perhaps have said always) found to be inefficacious; it rests therefore almost entirely on the basis of public opinion, and even here, censure of public character is mostly confined to ephemeral publications, to the newspaper or the pamphlet, and affords no means of holding forth to future generations the profligacy of statesmen and corruption of ministers.

The Absalom and Achitophel was the first, and will probably remain the best political satire which the English language can boast. No composition of Pope can be ranked in that class, and Churchill certainly never produced any thing to rival it. Our author seems in some degree to have -made that composition his model, and to have done so with considerable success.

In a short advertisement we are informed, that the author is connected with no party whatever; he is impenetrably concealed, and wishes to remain so.' The former assettion we see no reason to doubt; it is true indeed that the members of the present opposition, whenever they are introduced, are handled rather severely but several of the administration also will not feel themselves much gratified by the perusal. The wordy contest concerning the censures and impeachment of a noble lord, serves as the basis to the present publication; and is moulded into a sort of serio-comic epic poem, in which the political actors are introduced under fictitious names. This plan is attended with considerable disadvantages, as the genius of an author who uses facts only as a vehicle for observations, must necessarily be in some degree fettered by a strict adherence to them: our author has, however, in some degree deviated from the accuracy of circumstantial narrative. The action commences with a council of the tories, or advocates of Lord Melville, debating the means of protecting him from the meDaced attack; this occupies the whole of the first canto. The speeches of the leaders are, as might be expected, the most feeble part of the poem. The character of the late premier is delineated, under the title of Cinna, with considerable spirit and powers of versification.