parental eye in the school of wisdom and learning, promises to become the successor of his great father's merits. The second of 14, and the youngest of 10 years, promise both also well. They entered early in the school of adversity, having lost a few months ago their tender and beloved mother by an apoplexy, very suddenly and very unexpectedly. He left them, with his great example, a moderate fortune, and the benevolence of his friends and admirers, deeply wounded by his loss. Full of respect to you, I remain your most Obedt. servant, Europe. Neglected by the intriguing herd, they did him all the evil they dared; they feared his piercing eye, and wounded him in the dark. He disdained and withstood them on all points. His enemies were those of his unhappy country, whose fall he tried to prevent; but his voice was stifled, his principles calumniated, the spirit of party, of ambition, of selfinterest, and intrigue prevailed, and his country was ruined. Even those, whom he had instructed and fed, became his oppressors. The more he was ill-treated and persecuted, the greater he became in the eyes of those, that saw him act-that were sensible of his virtue, of his wisdom, of his merit ;-the great- Jan. 17th, 1807. er he became in the eyes of the Almighty God, whom he always fervently served, and who, judging him to have fulfilled the hard task he had given him, took him home in a moment....to everlasting felicity! He left to his friends three sons; the eldest, of about eighteen years of age, bred under the ******. P.S. I inclose this to my friends, Messrs. James & Thomas H. Perkins of Boston, desiring them to forward it to you, and after they calculate it to be in your hands, to have it placed in one of the best newspapers; as America is yet the country where such a man can be duly appreciated. For the Anthology. Sylva gerit, frondes. . ARMSTRONG. POETRY, at no time, has possessed more admirers, than in the present age. But it may be asked, is our taste, in this charming art, correct? Do we judge of a poem, as Aristotle, Quintilian, and Horace would have judged of it? What would they have said of the extravagant encomiums passed on the vulgar emptiness of a Bloomfield, on the crude conceptions and sleep-inspiring versification of a Southey, on the unintelligible fus OVID. tian of a Della Crusca, and on the numberless poetical Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire,' which the monster-breeding' breasts of our modern bards have produced? Modern poems are a species of romance in metre ; and the sentimental trash of a Circulating Library, turned into verse, would possess equal merit, and excite equal admiration. It is not to be wondered at, since the publick taste is thus perverted, that poems of sterling merit, which bear the stamp of classical elegance and correctness, should be left to moulder on our shelves. Our sickly appetite is too much cloyed with sweetmeats to relish substantial food. Hence our stan dard authors are no longer rese by the profound criticks of the day and the whimsical novelties lyrical ballad-mongers and trifling sonnetteers are preferred to the majesty of Milton, the vigour of Dryden, and the brilliant sense and correct harmony of Pope. of thes Armstrong is among bards, whom Johnson, from ca price, or prejudice, or forget i ness, has excluded from his list of English poets. And yet I will venture to affirm, that The Art of preserving Health is inferiour to no didactick poem in any language, with the sole exception of the Georgics, the most perfect pro duction of the most finished of poets, to which it bears a very striking resemblance. Virgil divides his poem into four books, which treat respectively of ploughing, planting, cattle and bees. On each of these sub jects he selects the best precept and intersperses the whole with beautiful descriptions and interesting episodes, adorned with the most polished and harmonious versification. Armstrong, in like manner, divides his poem into the same number of books, which treat respectively of four circumstances, on which health greatly depends; viż. air, diet, exercise, and the passions. The whole poem is animated with poetical description, and written in a style truly chaste, The fever terse, and classical. and ague one would scarcely think capable of poetical embellishment. But observe what the hand of a master can effect! rota such a mixture sprung, this fitful pest 'With feverish blasts subdues the sick'ning land. Cold tremors come, with mighty love of rest, onvulsive yawnings, lassitude, and pains sting the burthen'd brows, fatigue the loins, And rack the joints, and every torpid limb. Then parching heat succeeds, till co picus sweats O'erflow; a short relief from former ills. The vigour sinks, the habit melts away; Resigns them to the furies of her train, Ting'd with her own accumulated gall.' Every one, who has been so infortunate as to have experienced this complaint, will bear witness to the truth and spirit of the description. The description of the sweating sickness I shall quote at large, which has equally the truth of history and the embellishments of poetry to recommend it. THERE is nothing more contemptible, than that gossipping disposition, which delights in hearing and repeating little tales of slander and ill-nature. What is wonderful, is, that persons of any sense should give credence to the ridic ulous stories in circulation. For my own part, I make it a standing rule never to believe any report to the disadvantage of a friend or acquaintance, upon the mere assertion of an indifferent person. I have always found, on examination, that the story is either entire ly false, or else so disguised and exaggerated, as to be widely distant from the real truth. Ned Worthy is one of the best fellows in the world. Whenever he enters, there is a smile of satisfaction on every face in the room. As he is in easy circumstances, he once paid the tax of a wealthy bachelor, in being called on to maintain a child not his own. Ned immediately gained the reputation, particularly among his female friends, of being a man of gallantry. It was no sooner known that Ned was engaged to a fine woman, than the child began to multiply; and the future Mrs. Worthy is actually threatened, on her marriage, to be presented with no less than TWELVE ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN. The story of the black crows is no longer a fable. It was currently reported, and at last confidently affirmed, that, on Thursday last, Will Careless was caught in bed with Mrs. B. The whole Exchange was alive, and every insurance-office electrified with the intelligence. You would have thought, that some important news had arrived from Europe; that Bonaparte had arrived at Petersburgh, or that the French had been cut up piece-meal. On inquiry, it was discovered, that Mrs. B. was on that day in the country with her family, and that Will had not yet returned from Philadelphia, whither he had gone some time since on business. Miss Prudelia Prim, it was said, was actually delivered of coloured twins. It turned out, on investigation, that miss Prudy's lap-dog had brought her two black puppies. speak with unwilling emphasis, but unaffected hesitation, when I assert, if my own ears are not absolutely unattuned to the mellifluous cadence of poetick numbers, the structure of Mr. Cowper's verse is harsh, broken, and inharmonious, to a degree inconceivable in a writer of so much original and intrinsick excellence. His fidelity to his author is, however, entitled to unreserved praise, and proclaims the accuracy and intelligence of a critical proficient in his language. The true sense of Homer, and the character of his phraseology, may be seen in Mr. Cowper's version to more advantage, beyond all comparison, than in any other translation whatsoever within the compass of my knowledge. His epithets are frequently combined after the Greek manner, which our language happily admits, with singular dexterity and complete success. His diction is grand, copious, energetick, and diversified, full fraught with every em bellishment of poetick phraseology. His turns of expression are, on many occasions, hit off with most ingenious felicity; and there are specimens of native simplicity also in his performance, that place him at least on a level with his author, and vindicate his title, in this respect, to superiority over all his predecessors in this arduous and most painful enterprize. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, has spoken of Mr. Cowper's translation with an unfeeling petulance, with an insolent dogmatism, perfectly congenial to that rash and audacious censor.' Notwithstanding this panegyrick, Boswell's opinion seems to be that of the publick, and the insolent dogmatism of an audacious censor' is not inapplicable to Gilbert himself, with all his learning and abilities, which are readily acknowledged to have been great and uncommon. The accuracy of his judgment and the firmness of his taste are points more questionable. ORIGINAL POETRY. For the Anthology. [Hoc jucundum carmen scriptum fuisse dicitur A. D. 1742: et, a Sam. Johnson, in vita, inter optima ingenii facinora poetæ nostri numeratur. Hujus carminis figuram ab Horatio, car. 35, lib. 1, captam esse, non negatum est; quanquam longe viribus, in opere sequente, Romano noster Anglus anteponeretur.-Multa certe micantia, quæ in Anglicano carmine apparent, in his meis Latinis versibus, sive non reperiuntur, sive dubie coruscant.] CARMEN THOME GRAY, IN ADVERSITATEM, LATINIS VERSIBUS REDDITUM. O, soboles magni Jovis ! O, tu ferrea virgo! |
