then by his parts; and if in neither of these parts hee bee condemnable, I hope we shall receiv a inore favourable sentence. This purifying of wit, this inriching of memory, enabling of judgement and enlarg ing of conceit, which commonly wee call learning, under what name soever it com forth, or to what immediate end so ever it be directed, the final end is to lead and draw us to as high a perfection, as our degenerate souls, made wors by their claylodgings, can be capable of. This, accord ing to the inclination of man, bred many formed impressions; for som that thought this felicity principally to be gotten from knowledge, and no knowledge to be so bigh and heavenly, as acquaintance with the stars gave themselves to Astronomie; others persuading themselves to be demigods, if they knew the causes of things, became natural and supernatural philosophers. Som an admirable delight drew to musick, and som the certainty of demonstration to the mathematicks; bnt all, one and other, having this scope, to know, and by knowledge to lift up the mind from the dungeon of the body, to the enjoying his own divine essence. But when by the ballance of experience it was found, that the Astronomer, looking to the stars, might fall in a ditch: that the enquiring philosopher might bee blinde in himself; and the mathematician might draw forth a straight line with a crooked heart; then lo did proof, the overruler of opinions, make manifest, that all these are but serving sciences, which as

they have a private end in themselves, 60 yet are they all directed to the highest end of the mistress knowledge; by the Greeks Αρχιτεκτονικη, which standeth, as I think, in the knowledge of a anan's self, in the ethick and politick consideration, with the end of well-doing,

and not of well-knowing onely. Even as the saddler's next end is to make a good ́saddle, but his further end to serv a nobler facultie, which is horsmanship: so the horsman's to souldierie: and the souldier not onely to have skill, but to perform the practice of a souldier. So that the ending end of all earthly learning being virtuous action, those skills that most serv to bring forth that, have a most just title to be princes over all the rest: wherein easily wee can shew, the poet is worthie to have it before any other competitors."

He contends, that the efficiency of poetry, in communicating knowledge, places it above history and philosophy. Thus he pleads on its behalf;

nation doth despise it, nor barbarous nation is without it; since both Roman and Greek gave such divine names unto it, the one of prophesying, the other of making; and that indeed that name of making is fit for him, considering, that where all other arts retain themselves within their subject, and receive, as it were, their being from it; the poet onely, bringeth his own stuff, and doth not learn a conceit out of a matter, but maketh matter for a conceit. Since neither his description nor end containeth any evil, the thing described cannot bee evil; since his effects bee so good as to teach goodness, and delight the learners of it; since therein (namely, in moral doc trine, the chief of all knowledges) he doth not onely far pass the historian, but for instructing is well nigh comparable to the philosopher, for moving, leaveth him behind him. Since the holy Scripture (wherein there is no uncleanness) hath whole parts in it poetical, and that even our Saviour Christ vouchsafed to use the flowers of it; since all his kindnesses are not onely in their united forms, but in their several dissections commendable, I think (and think I think rightly) the laurel crown appointed for triumphant captains, doth worthily of all other learnings, honor the poet's triumph."

:

of

But the author considers, that it was less his business to describe poetry, than to defend it; and that, therefore, he must meet the objections of learned and witty adversaries. He hence advances to consider, what has been said against poetry. He treats, with becoming disdain, the "poet-haters, who seek a praise by dispraising others." "There is nothing" he says, "of so sacred a majesty, but that an itching tongue may rub itself upon it." They deserve no other answer, "but, instead laughing at the jest, to laugh at the jester. We know a playing wit can prais the discretion of an ass, the comfortableness of being in debt, and the jolly commodities of being sick of the plague.” he is ready to meet the more grave and plausible objections which have been alleged against his favourite art. Such as, 1st. that there are many other more fruitful knowledges a man might better spend his time in: 2. that it is the mother of lies: 3. that it is the nurse of abuse, infesting us with many pes

But

tilent desires, with a syren sweetness, drawing the mind to the serpents' tail of sinful fancies:" Lastly, and chiefly, they cry out with open mouth, as if they had overshot Robinhood, that Plato banished them out of his commonwealth." To each and all of these grave objections, the noble author furnishes an ingenious and entertaining answer, full of eloquence, of learning, and of wit. His pages, under this branch of the argument, are indeed a proof, that poetry is not necessarily limited to rhyme; for the classic grace, the refined taste, and elevation of fancy, which distinguish them, raise his prose to the true character, which he has himself given to genuine poetry. Thus he concludes his reply to the objectors:

"Siuce the excellencies of it may be so easily and so justly confirmed, and the low creeping objections so soon trodden down, it not being an art of lyes, but of true dootriue; not of effeminateness, but of notable stirring of courage; not of abusing man's wit, but of strengthening man's wit; not banislied, but honoured by Plato; let us rather plant more laurels for to ingarlaud the poets' heads, (which honor of being laureate, as besides them, onely triumphant captains were, is a sufficient authority to shew the price they ought to be held in,) than suffer the ill favored breath of sucli wrong speakers, once to blow upon the clear springs of poesie. But since have run so long a carrier in this matter, methinks, before I give my den a full stop, it shall be but a little more lost time, to inquire why England, the mother of excellent minds, should be grown so hard a step-mother to poets, who certainly in wit ought to pass all others, since all onely proceeds from their wit, being indeed makers of them. selves, not takers of others. How can I but exclaim, Musa mihi causas memora quo numine laeso. Sweet Poesie, that hath anciently had kings, emperors, senators, great captains, such as, besides a thousand others, ́David, Adrian, Sophocles, Germanicus, not ouly to favour poets, but to bee poets ; and of our nearer times, can present for her patrons, a Robert, King of Sicily; the great King Francis, of France; King James, of Scotland; such cardinals as Bembus and Bibiena; such famous preachers and teachers as Beza and Melancthon; so learned philosophers as Fracastorius and Scaliger; so great orators as Pontanus and Muretus; so piercing wits as George

Buchanan; so grave counsellors as, be sides manie, but before all, that Hospital of France, than whom I think that realm never brought forth a more accomplished judgment, more firmly builded upon virtue; I say, these, with numbers of others, not onely to read others poesie, but to poetize for others reading; that poesie, thus embraced in all other other places, should' onely find in our time a hard welcome in England, I think the very earth laments it,

and therefore decks our soil with fewer laurels than it was accustomed. For

heretofore, poets have in England also flourished; and which is to be noted, even in those times when the trumpet of Mars

did sound loudest."

After satirizing and disowning the spurious race of bastard poets, who, he says, "without commission, do post over the banks of Helicon, till they make their readers more weary than posthorses," he offers his advice, (and most salutary it is,) to all who would aspire to the character he has been describing and defending.

It is so excellent, and so ap propriate to our own times, and withal so brief, that we cannot suppress our inclination to transcribe it.

"Marry, they that delight in poesie itself, should seek to know what they do and how they do especially look themselves in an unflattering glass of reason, if they be inclinable unto it. For poesie must not be drawn by the ears, it must be gently led, or rather it must lead, which was partly the caus that made the ancient learned affirm, it was a divine wit, and no human skill, since all other knowledges lye readie for any that have strength of wit. A poet no industrie can make, if his own genius be not carried into it. And therefore is an old proverb, Orator fit, poeta nascitur. Yet confess always, that as the fertillest ground must be manured, so must the highest flying wit have a Dedalus to guide him. That Dedalus, they say, both in this and in other, hath three wings, to bear itself up into the ear of due commendation; that is, Art, Imitation, and Exercise. But these neither artificial rules, nor imitative patterns, wee much cumber ourselves withal. Exercise indeed we do, but that very fore back wardly; for where we should exercise ourselves to know, we exercise ourselves as having known; and so is our brain delivered of such matter, which never was begotten by knowledge."

He then passes on to offer some strictures on the principal poems

known in his time, and to expose the defects of some dramatic compositions. He then adverts to the deficiency in our language of other kinds of poetry, except the lyrical, severely condemns the affectation of most love-songs and sonnets, and then touches upon the meretricious ornaments and false colouring, in which the poets of his time generally indulged. He then diHe then digresses to eloquence in general, and condemns the false taste of many learned and great speakers. He finally treats of rhyming, and shows the superiority of the English tongue for the purposes of poetry, above Italian, French, Dutch, and Spanish; and concludes his enchanting and instructive disquisition in the following exquisite passage, which, for classic grace, and genuine gay good humour, has, perhaps, no superior in English literature.

"So that since the ever-praiseworthy poesie is full of virtue, breeding delightful ness, and void of no gift that ought to bee in the noble name of learning, since the blames

laid against it are either fals or feeble; since the caus why it is not esteemed in England, is the fault of poet-apes, not poets; since, lastly, our tongue is more fit to bonor poesie, and to be honored by poesie, I conjure you all that have had the evil lack to read this ink-wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the nine Muses, no more to scorn

the sacred mysteries of poesie; no more to laugh at the name of poets, as though they were next inheritors to fools; no more to jest at the reverent title of a rhymer, but to believ with Aristotle, that they were the an cient treasurers of the Grecian divinities; to believ with Bembus, that they were the first bringers in of all civilitie; to believ

with Scaliger, that no philosopher's precepts can sooner make you an honest man, than the reading of Virgil; to believ with Clau serus, the translator of Cornutus, that it pleased the heavenly deitie by Hesiod and Homer, under the vail of fables to give us all knowledge, logick, rhetorick, philosophy, natural and moral, aud quid non? To believ with mee, that there are many mysteries contained in poetry, which of purpose were written darkly, lest by profane wits, it should be abused; to believ with Landin, that they are so beloved of the gods, that whatsoever they write, proceeds out of a divine furic. Lastly, to believ themselves when they tell you they will make you immortal by their verses. Thus doing, your

name shall flourish in the printer's shops; thus doing, you shall be of kin to many a poetical preface; thus doing, you shall be most fair, most rich, most wise, most all; you strat dwell upon superlatives; thus doing, though you be Libertino patre natus, you shall suddenly grow Herculea proles, si quid mea carmina possunt. Thus doing, your soul shall be placed with Dante's Bea trir; or Virgil's Anchises. But if (fie of such a but) you bee born so near the dall making Cataract of Nilus, that you cannot hear the so earth-creeping a plannet-like musick of poetrie; if you have so earth-creeping a minde that it cannot lift itself up to look to the skies of poetrie, or rather by certain rustical disdain will become such a mome, as to be a Momus of

poetrie; then, though I will not wish you the asses ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses, as Burbonax was, to hang himself, nor to be rhymed to death, as is said to bee don in Ireland; yet thus mach curs I must send you in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favor, for lacking skill of sonnet, and when you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an epitaph.”

From the ample extracts we have presented to our readers, it will be evident, that if the name of Sir Philip Sidney is not handed down to us among our national poets, it was neither for want of à just estimation of the art, nor a just apprehension of the ends it should subserve, and the subjects it should adorn, nor an ample share of the requisite mental endowments. But he was a soldier as well as a poet; and the rough god of war is no cherisher of the gentle muses.

He was born a

poet, but he was bred a soldier'; and those whom Mars adopts may all be said to be kidnapped from humanity. He engaged in the profession of arms, when the cause of his country and of the reformation required both his heroism and his virtue. But he had already immortalized his name. He died,

alas! too, too soon for the cause of science and learning which he had espoused, but he lived and wrote for a country which knows how to estimate his character, and which is still the living, healthful heart of science and poetry; and he died for a cause which is yet triumphant and progressing.

His flattering panegyric upon the language of his native country, since it stands as the harbinger of a morning, the most bright England ever saw, may almost be called prophecy; for it was followed by a verification as singular as it is unquestionable. In little more than half a century after his death, England produced the works of Shakespear, Spenser, and Milton; the first and the last of whom are still the brightest gems in our crown, and the envy and admiration of the world. Their names stand second to none, either of the classic ancients, or ambitious moderns.

Of the present age, as having, in many respects, merited the distinction of being named the age of poets, we had designed to say something, but it must now be in very few words. We are not at all disposed to deny to a large class of living poets the honour of being genuine sons of the Muses. England never, perhaps, in so brief a space, produced so much elegant, harmonious, and elaborate verse; perhaps, never so much delightful poetry. But to how few of the large class of competitors for public favour can be awarded that most desirable of all commendations-of being benefactors, by

their splendid endowments, to the moral interests of mankind. Without virtue and real goodness, poetry is but a dream, and its splendour but the comet's flash. Of several of our greatest poets, it is yet true, they have not grown into the wisdom or dignity of men, nor put away childish things. Their poetry is their toy to sport with, or the madding potion which they mix with exquisite skill, in a golden cup, and administer with infernal delight to the unsuspecting and thoughtless, that they may enjoy the triumph of their power, though it be in evil. individual or two-poets of no mean endowments, and no ordinary skill in their art, may justly wear an unsullied laurel for never having written a line, which, on leaving the world, they could wish to blot; but of the great idols of the world's homage, it is but too true, they have been but splendid triflers; and when the delusive drama of life is closing, they may find cause to adopt the words which Sir Philip Sidney appended to the last of his sonnets,

An

Splendidis longum valedico nugis; or they may even live to wish, that they had been any thing rather than GREAT POETS.

Anticipation of the Everlasting Sabbath; Sabbath Profanation, with its dreadful Consequences.

As it was originally designed to print this small work in the form of a cheap tract, these subjects are discussed in a popular style, enlivened by several striking anecdotes and apt quotations from our sacred poets. A devotional spirit and amiable temper pervade this small volume, and many of the remarks deserve the serious attention of the professors of religion in general, and especially of the heads of families. We, therefore, recommend it to the attention of our readers, sincerely wishing that its seasonable remarks may lead many attendants on public worship to a more religious employment of the leisure hours of the Lord's-day. The following section will afford a specimen of the author's manner, and enable our readers to judge of this modest, and we may add, cheap little book.

"SABBATH ANTICIPATIONS." "When six days of labour each other suc

ceeding,

Have with hurry and toil my spirits oppress'd:

How pleasant to think, as the last is receding,

To-morrow will be a sweet Sabbath of rest."

66

Amidst the cares, the necessary cares of life: amidst the toils of labour, and the perplexities of business, how delightful to a good man to anticipate the approach of the Sabbath Harassed and fatigued with the troubles of the week, he says, like, Israel's anointed shepherd, as the hart panteth after the 'water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God!" Charming anticipation of the day of rest, when he hopes to sit under the shadow of his gracious Lord with great delight, and to find his fruit sweet unto his taste! Delightful to think of the habitation of his father's house, where he has gone in and come out, and found pasture! Then the Christian, in a happy frame, may say, "O world, thou shalt not intermeddle with my joys. I would, if possible, for ever banish thee from the temple of my “God, and drive thee from the possession of my heart." How do such

3

anticipations enable many a follower of the Lamb to weather the adverse storms of life, and cheerfully to sustain all his cares and sorrows, casting all upon him who careth for him. But there are other hopes which a pious father and mother will fondly cherish on behalf of their children. Having presented many strong cryings and tears unto God for them; having known, by sweet experience, the benefits of divine ordinances to their own souls, finding the "Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord and honourable;" they most ardently long for their offspring, that the word may be clothed with power; that their sons, like little Samuel, may say, “Speak, Lord, for thy servants hear;" and their daughters, like Mary, may sit at the feet of Jesus and hear his words. And can the descendants of pious parents attend, from Sabbath to Sabbath, to the many encouraging and animating exhortations which their faithful pastors address to the young? can they think of the wrestlings of a father and mother, and their silent ejaculations, even at that very moment, rising up before the throne, without breathing out, "O, may this be 'the accepted time, may this be the day of salva

tion?"

An Essay on the Evils of Slander, Scandal, and Misrepresentation.Westley. 3s. 6d.

We have read this little volume with considerable interest, and we are persuaded that every friend to religion and domestic felicity, will hail with pleasure any attempt to exterminate evils of such increasing magnitude as those of which it treats. The subjects of this volume are happily chosen; and without any thing which appears invidious, the author aims a direct blow at the root of those vices. We are pleased with this feature of the Essay, because, on subjects of this nature, writers are too apt to indulge in private feeling, or personal invective. The `mottos to the different chapters are appropriate, and the author has enriched the volume by extracts from Dr. Blair, Massilon, Dwight, Dr. Raffles, Bishop Hall, Mrs. H. More, and other eminent writers. To the young it will be a

Dr.