mental sonneteer was anticipated by the epigrammatist of the Anthology. In the more polished and refined age of Grecian literature, few traces of external nature are discovered; so it was in our own country, under the second Charles, and in the Augustan era of Anne; and in France, during the brilliant pageant that adorned the reign of Louis XIV. The writers of those times are often eloquent and energetic; almost always harmonious; frequently picturesque; but very rarely descriptive. Their colours come from books, not from nature; their rural scenes are compositions, not sketches taken on the spot. We have the fantastic ingenuity of Cowley, the musical epigrams of Pope, and the poignant satire of Boileau; but no "silver droppis" sparkle on their foliage, as upon the sunny trees of Chaucer; no gradual, dusky veil at even-tide creeps over the glimmering hamlet, like that drawn by the finger of Collins; no glades "open to the golden day," like the sylvan solitudes of Thomson. But the eye to observe, the taste to select and combine, the fancy to colour and illuminate, were undoubtedly not withheld from the genius of attic poetry. Homer has them all. His morning pictures shine with the dew and purple dawn. Bishop Copleston, indeed, supposes the faculty of depicting external objects, separated and detached from the affections and manners, to have been either wanted by him, or despised; but the learned and elegant Hurd has advocated a very different opinion, and has been supported and confirmed by more than one accomplished critic. Homer does not, certainly, paint a landscape with the elaborate finish of a school of design; but, like Gray, hastens from the picture to the story connected with it, or to the moral which it suggests. Twining has noticed the charming line in the nineteenth book of the Odyssey, where the song of the nightingale is described with remarkable beauty and precision:

«Ητε θαμθα τρωπωσα χεει πολυηχεα φωνην.”

"The pouring of her voice, its quick turns and inflections, and the ever-changing variety of tone, complete the description. His scene by moonlight is familiar to every reader of poetry. Hesiod possessed similar power, and his winter landscape may be compared with Thomson's; he has, indeed, collected into a single view, images scattered by the poet of the Seasons over several pages. Hesiod's old man, bent by the blast, may be contrasted with the way-faring stranger of Thomson climbing against the wind.

"Scarcely one of the Greek or Latin poets will be found entirely deficient in this essential element of poetical invention.

Pindar opens a view of the Fortunate Isles in his magnificent Odes; Eschylus, though chiefly distinguished by the vehemence and creative fire of his genius, in a very different kind of delineation, could sweep the solemn shadows and gloomy masses of cloud over his dramas with the savage blackness of Rosa. The softer hues of Sophocles are fresh in the memory; and the reader who has not enjoyed the brilliant scenery of the Bacchæ, is unacquainted with one of the most exquisite productions of Greek imagination.

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Descending among the Latin poets, we are struck by the presence of the same art. The Georgiis abound in sketches for the pencil. Virgil lets in the verdure of the country upon the pomp of an historical procession. Cowper could not have represented a corn field agitated by the wind in more vivid colours, than Silius Italicus; by the single epithet, nitescit, he makes the harvest wave, and rustle, and shine before our eyes. Statius could paint a landscape, with the dew upon it; and the colours of Horace are not less enduring than his reputation. Nor will the richly-glowing pictures of Ovid be forgotten by the student of that fascinating writer. But, however the ancients may have appreciated or pourtrayed the charms of nature, they wanted one lovely and ennobling feature. Their religion, it has been observed, is beautiful in fiction, but not in sentiment. It has revealed the most terrific and delightful agencies to poetry, without teaching it to contemplate nature as the image of Divine Benevolence, and her creatures as the objects of human sympathy. Paul planted, and Apollos watered, and the Grace of God descended upon the heart, before this intellectual garden blossomed like the rose. It was reserved for the poets of a later day, to find, in the common flower by the hedge-side, a theme of gratitude and meditation; and to uplift the eye, as it ranged over verdant fields, and waving woods, and glittering rivers, with a devout aspiration to heaven, "My Father made them all!"

James Hurdis appropriately follows his friend and master; but the "Village Curate" very faintly recalls the music of the "Task." Hurdis was born at Bishopstone, in Sussex, 1763; and in 1780 went to Oxford, a commoner of St. Mary Hall, but was subsequently chosen a demy of Magdalen College, where he is said to have obtained the friendship of the president, Dr. Horne. Having taken his degree, in 1785, he retired to the curacy of Burwash, in his native county, where he resided six years. In 1793, he was made Poetry Professor, at Oxford; and expired after an innocent and tranquil life devoted to the cultivation of his mind and to the discharge of his pastoral duties, on the 13th

of December, 1808. The poetical character of Hurdis is not marked by any particular physiognomy. His sentiment continually sinks into affectation, and his simplicity often displeases by the familiarity of its allusions:

Burwash will never rival the fame of the little village in Buckinghamshire. He describes, indeed, in very agreeable colours, the life of a country Clergyman, enlivening his leisure with books, music, and rural walks: but it may in truth be said of Hurdis, that he is strong only upon the ground. The conversational manner of Cowper dwindles, in his imitation, into imbecility: his satire is nerveless, and his remarks obvious, without being forcible. His poetical merit is to be sought for only in the truth of his descriptions of scenery and rustic employments. The following harvest-scene is worthy of a follower of Cowper:

"Tell me, ye fair Aleanor, tell me, what
Is to the eye more cheerful, to the heart
More satisfactive, than to look abroad,
And from the window see the reaper stop,
Look round, and put his sickle to the wheat,
Or hear the early mower whet his scythe,
And see where he has cut his sounding way,
E'en to the utmost hedge of the brown field
Of oats or barley? What delights us more,
Than studiously to trace the vast effects
Of unabated labour? To observe

How soon the golden field stands thick with sheaves:
How soon the oat and bearded barley fall

In frequent lines before the hungry scythe?

The clattering team now comes, and the swarth hind
Leaps down, and throws his frock aside, and plics
The shining fork down to the stubble's edge
The easy wain descends half-built, then turns
And labours up again. From pile to pile
With rustling steps the swain proceeds, and still
Bears to the groaning load the well-poised sheaf."
Village Curate.

The memoir of Grahame affords some pleasing anecdotes of a very amiable and intelligent man, who was removed in his fortyseventh year, leaving behind him a name dear to every lover of genuine poetry and sincere piety. Sir Walter Scott paid a most affectionate tribute to his virtue :

"Poor Grahame, (he says, in a letter to Joanna Baillie), gentle, amiable, and enthusiastic, deserves all you say of him; his was really a hallowed harp, as he was himself an Israelite without guile. How often have I teased him, but never out of his good humour, by praising Dundee, and laughing at the covenanters. I think his works should

be collected and published, for the benefit of his family-surely the wife and orphans of such a man have a claim on the generosity of the public."

Of his poems, "the Sabbath" is the best known, and deserves the widest popularity; it abounds in touches of fancy, and is every where pervaded by a spirit of beautiful benevolence and devotion. A memoir of Bishop Heber closes the volume. A more ample selection from the journal of this admirable prelate might have been desired, if the plan of the writer had not limited his views to the Bishop's poetical character. "Palestine" is the only prize poem which has obtained and preserved a reputation beyond the walls of an University. The fancy of Heber was lively; his language picturesque, and his ear susceptible of every tone of music-his imagination, without much strength, possessed considerable elasticity and grace-and we cordially join in Mr. Willmott's expression of regret that his proposed collection of Hymns was never completed.

In conclusion, and while pressing this volume, together with its predecessor, upon the attention of our readers, we will mention some suggestions that have occurred to us during the perusal, and which, we sincerely hope, a second edition will soon enable the author to take into consideration. We would particularly recommend the expansion of his preliminary essay, in the first series, so as to embrace a more comprehensive view of the moral songs of the sixteenth century.

Spenser may, at the same time, be advantageously brought more prominently forward; there is no author whose serious. sweetness and pensive tenderness impart a livelier charm to the fancy. A memoir of Sir John Davies, the earliest writer of a philosophical poem in our language, ought also to be inserted. His Nosce Teipsum is a remarkable specimen of close argument and harmonious versification. From the following description of feeling, Pope borrowed one of his most celebrated couplets :"Much like a subtle spider which doth sit

In middle of her web which spreadeth wide;
If ought do touch the utmost thread of it,
She feels it instantly on every side."

The sketches of Silvester and of Heywood will also admit of enlargement; the Hierachie of the Blessed Angels, by the last writer, is a very curious and valuable production. An abridgement of the History of Wither will furnish ample space for these alterations. And, with respect to the second volume of the Lives of Sacred Poets, now more immediately under examination, we think it would be desirable to introduce a few brief and

connecting notices of some of the minor contributors to our Religious Poetry, such as Ogilvie and Merrick, for example, whose names are still found in Elegant Extracts.

With these improvements, slight though they be, yet not, we venture to believe, unimportant, combined with those which the maturer reflection of the Author himself will introduce, these Lives may be safely put into the hand of the student, as the most satisfactory guides into a path of our Literature which has never been investigated with equal diligence, or success, by any other writer. What Warton performed for our verse in general, Mr. Willmott has accomplished for our Religious Poetry in particular. Higher praise cannot be desired.

ART. V.-The Church of Rome's Traffic in Pardons, considered in Three Letters, addressed to the Rev. T. L. Green, Roman Catholic Priest of Tixall. By GEORGE HODSON, M.A., Vicar of the adjoining Parish of Colwich, and Archdeacon of Stafford. London: Hamilton and Co.; Rugeley, J. T. Walters. 1838.

The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth. The Catholic Church Vindicated, in Two Letters, addressed to the Venerable George Hodson, M. A., Protestant Vicar of Colwich, Archdeacon of Stafford, Canon Residentiary of Lichfield, etc. In Reply to his Pamphlet, entitled, "The Church of Rome's Traffic in Pardons. By the Rev. T. L. GREEN, Catholic Clergyman of Tixall. Letter I. London: Jones, Booker and Co., Keating and Co., &c.; Rugeley, J. T. Walters. 1838.

THESE two pamphlets are of considerable importance at the present time, as, additionally to their subject, proving the kind of interference which the papal priesthood in this country are beginning to assume in the ministerial conduct of the legitimate Clergy in their neighbourhood. The Archdeacon of Stafford and Vicar of Colwich thinks that the circumstances of his cure call for the circulation of certain tracts in opposition to the claims and efforts of the Church of Rome; and a neighbouring priest of that church considers it as falling within his province to call the vicar to account for so doing. Mr. Green, who for any parochial connexion, may, like his superior, be a priest in partibus infidelium, takes offence at a particular passage in one of the distributed tracts, and desires an interview with the distributor, for the purpose of explaining or substantiating