works. That he has ftamped a new value upon the title by his ufe, will not, we conceive, be denied by many who fhall read the prefent poem. It opens in a pleafing manner: and when we confider how much nearer the event alluded to in the two firft lines, proved, in reality to be, than the author probably fuppofed, it has fomething in it of the pathetic.

"World I have known thee long, and now the hour,
When I must part from thee, is near at hand:

I bore thee much good-will, and many a time
In thy fair promifes repos'd more trust

Than wifer heads and colder hearts would rifque.
Some tokens of a life, not wholly pafs'd
In felfish ftrivings, or ignoble floth,

Haply there fhall be found, when I am gone;
Which may difpofe thy candour to difcern
Some merit in my zeal, and let my works
Outlive the maker, who bequeaths them to thee;
For well I know, where our perception ends,
Thy praise begins, and few there be who weave
Wreaths for the poet's brow, 'till he is laid
Low in his narrow dwelling with the worm.

Mr. C. was always an advocate for encouraging the living poets, and, to fay the truth, was ufually as ready to beflow as to demand that encouragement. The intelligent reader will have seen already, that the ftyle of Cowper's Talk is that to which this compofition moft nearly approaches, familiar blank verfe, with occafional elevation. Cumberland would have difdained the idea of imitating Cowper, but refemblance may easily exift without imitation. Among the moft delightful objects of his recollection are thofe illuftrious friends, with whom he lived fo much, Johnfon, Burke, Reynolds, Goldfmith, and others, whom he characterizes with much elegance and force. Yet he laments their lofs with temperance, and allows that they may poffibly have fucceffors worthy to fupply their places.

"Virtue will fill be lovely, wit will charm,
Learning be honour'd, eloquence admired,

Tho' Johnfon, Burke, and hundreds more be dead :
There yet remains an under growth to spring,
And flourish in the late o'er fhadow'd fpace,
Which these tall monarchs of the grove engrofs'd.
Did genius perish in the grave with Fox,
Integrity with Pitt? Though (grief to tell):
-Thofe ftars that late with rival lustre shone,

And by their influence alternate rul'd
The hearts of men, are set to rise no more,
Yet Heav'n above us is not "hung with black ;**
Still there is light by which the pilot fteers
The veffel, freighted with the facred truft,
Of all that to a Britifh heart is dear,
Ev'n while the Tempeft rages at its heighth.
Oh! may the Genius of our ile protect
And guard that chofen Man, whoe'er he be,
Whom, in this perilous and awful hour,
The Monarch, or the Regent of the realm
Dooms to the arduous duty! May his hand
With all the ftrength of temper'd fteel be nerv
And firmly may he grafp the lab'ring helm
In the deep fwell of waters! With his eye
For ever on the faithful compafs fixt,
Undaunted may he stand, and keep his course
Right onward, in that heav'n directed track,
Which holds the tyrant of the earth in cĥace;
And leads, thro' fufferings only for a time,
To that true glory which fhall never fade.”

P.

This is patriotic, as well as poetical; and fo is much more that follows in the enfuing pages. We could have wished that no repining at the fuccefs of a younger poet had difgraced this farewel poem. But fuch is human nature. Cumberland, pinched by poverty, at the clofe of a life diftinguished by much literary fame, could not fee with a tranquil eye the immenfe fuccefs and profits of a writer, whofe ftyle appeared to him irregular, deviates confeffedly from the claffical models, and follows rather the effufions of a ruder age. Galled by these feelings, and blinded by thefe prepoffeffions, Cumberland could not appreciate the powerful and original genius which animates the lays of Mr. Walter Scott; and fpeaks rather with peevishness of his witches and goblins. Mr. Scott, who has all the liberality of true genius, will doubtlefs pardon this flight injury, and allow to the Mufe of Cumberland all that true criticifm, (of which he is no lefs a master than of numbers) can allow. He will feel with us the effect of the invocation, when the poet thus calls upon the worthies above-named.

"Friends of my better days, awake, arife!
From your gay circle round the focial fire,

Johnfon, and Burke, and Garrick draw your chairs,
And let us hear the moral mafter talk!" P. 15%

We go with him, upon the well-confidered report of all

who

who knew both, when he decides that John fon would have
been greater in the fenate than Burke, who was fo great.
"Nature gave to each,

Pow'rs, that in fome refpects may be compar'd
For both were orators-and could we now
Canvafs the focial circles where they mix'd,
The palm for eloquence, by general vote,
Would reft with him, whose thunder never shook
The fenate or the bar. When Burke harangued
The nation's reprefentatives, methought
The fine machinery, that his fancy wrought*,
Rich, but fantaftic, fometimes would obfcure
That fymmetry, which ever should uphold
The dignity and order of debate :

Gainft orator like this had Johnson rofe, [rifen]
So clear was his perception of the truth,
Se grave his judgment, and fo high the fwell
Of his full period, I muft think his fpeech
Had charm'd as many and enlightened more.
Yet, that the fword of Burke could be as fharp
As it was fhining, HASTINGS can atteft;
Who thro' a fiege of ten long years withflood
"Its huge two handed fway," that ftript him bare
Of fortune, and had cut him deeper ftill,
Had INNOCENCE not arm'd him with a shield
Which turn'd the stroke afide, and fent him home
To feek repofe in his paternal farm." P. 31.

In the course of his reflections, which are defultory and without method, Mr. C. returns once more to the defence of his grandfather Bentley, which he handles with the eloquence of affection.

Still, ftill, by Retrospection's magic pow'r,
Tho' threefcore years and ten have interven'd,
I'm wafted back to boyhood, and behold
To mental clear as to my natural eye
The honour'd form of Bentley.-At his desk
Befide his garden window, deep in thought
With books embay'd, the learned Mafter fits:
Unaw'd I run to him, around my neck

He throws his arms; methinks ev'n now I feel
Their preffure, and his kifs upon my cheek;
And lo! at once the page of ancient lore,
That offers no amufement to my fight,

Is fhut, the golden chain of his bright thoughts

* Unintentional rhyme. Rev.

Is fnapt without a murmur-palfy-ftruck,
And halting, fee! he rifes from his chair,
And fpreads before me what his fhelves can fhow
Of prints, to gratify an idle boy.

And will the world perfift to call him ftern,
Morofe, and cynical, who never turn'd
From mifery that fought him, never frown'd "
On the repentant flanderer that had wrong'd him?
When bold impugners of the Gofpel truth
Effay'd to fhake the pillars of his faith,
Then he was ftern; then arm'd and amply stor'd
With learning, wit, and eloquence fublime,
He beat their contumacious dulnefs down.
But when the bluth of diffidence bespoke
His favour and forbearance, then the brow

Wrinkled by deep refearch and thought intenfe,
Was fmooth'd, and kindnefs brighten'd in his face."

P. 43.

This clear and pleasing picture places the venerable critic and divine completely before our eyes. What follows, of retort against the poet who attacked him, is neither equally gratifying, nor equally juft. In English criticism, Bentley was certainly vulnerable.

*

Thus have we given fufficient fpecimens of a poem, in which there is no plan to develope, no artificial arrangement of parts to confider. Altogether, it is fufficiently characteristic of the mind which produced it, and interesting both from the circumftances, under which it was written, and from the pictures of illuftrious characters interwoven. Of the authors living at the time, Mr. C. fpeaks well in general, but particularly of none, except Mr. W. Scott, whom he cenfures unjustly; and Mr. Rogers, of whom he speaks like a very warm friend. Why he fays nothing of his former friend and fellow-labourer, Sir James Burges, does not appear. Two other friends he mentions by their initials; of whom one is, by his defcription, a very eminent lawyer. The other is only fpoken of with affection, but not deferibed. We have often enjoyed his fociety; let us kindly difmifs his laft production. Peace then to his manes!-We have generally admired his writings, though feldom with any enthufiaftic admiration; but we can fairly conclude, in the words of a friend. before alluded to; none have written more, few have written better."

ART.

ART. V. The Life of the Right Reverend Beilby Porteus, D.D. late Bishop of London. By the Rev. Robert Hodgson, 1. M. F.R Š. Rector of St. George's, Hanover Square," and one of the Chaplains in Ordinary to his Majefly. Svo. pp. 319.

IF we expatiate fomewhat more at large upon the fubject of this article than its extent may feem to juftify, fomething must be conceded to ftrong perfonal attachment and emotions of private gratitude. If any individual be entitled to a place of honourable diftinction in thefe literary memoirs of the times in which we live, none can poffibly be more fo than the venerable Bifhop Porteus. When we first prefented ourselves to the public at a period of national danger and univerfal alarm; when they who were animated by prin. ciples of loyal attachment to our conftitution, and of unfhaken fidelity to our ecclefiaftical eftablifhment were awed by menaces, and fometimes overpowered by infolence and clamour, the late Bishop of London was among the first to cheer and encourage our exertions. In the course of our progrefs we uniformly experienced the fame kind and friendly fupport; we perfonally knew his virtues, refpected his abilities and learning, and admired the amiable, pious, and unblemished tenour of his life.

Can it therefore be matter of furprise that we are proud to record in our pages the principle incidents of his life, and features of his character, as we find them delineated and reprefented in Mr. Hodgfon's biographical sketch, prefixed to a complete collection of the deceafed prelate's works. First, however, let us premife, as a matter of juftice, that perhaps no work of the kind has of late appeared deferving of warmer praife or greater credit, for the unaffected good fenfe and fimplicity of the narrative, or for more judicious difcrimination. In the whole narrative it is obvious that the principal care of the editor was to prevent the powerful emotions of perfonal attachment and private gratitude, from operating to the prejudice of the grave and fober dignity of truth.

Many erroneous reprefentations have been circulated with refpect to the place of this excellent prelate's birth. The truth is that he was born at York, and was the youngest but one of nineteen children. His father and mother were natives of Virginia, but retired to this country, much to the injury of their private fortune, folely for the honourable purpofe of giving every poffible advan