quisitions of knowledge, and all hopes of fame, and live in a wilderness, unknown, till death, so he could insure an inheritanee in heaven.' Vol. I. p. 29. On this subject, the above-named Clergyman, as quoted by Mr. Southey, adds, What he said to me when we became intimate, is worthy of observation: that, he said, which first made him dissatisfied with the creed he had adopted and the standard of practice which he had set up for himself, was the pu rity of mind which he perceived was every where inculcated in the Holy Scriptures, and required of every one who would become a successful candidate for future blessedness. He had supposed that morality of conduct was all the purity required; but when he observed that purity of the very thoughts and intentions of the soul also, was requisite, he was convinced of his deficiencies, and could find no comfort to his penitence, but in the atonement made for human frailty by the Redeemer of mankind, and no strength adequate to his weakness, and sufficient for resisting evil, but the aids of God's spirit, promised to those who seek them from above in the sincerity of earnest prayer.' Vol. I. p. 31. From the moment that he was led by the Spirit of God into "the narrow way" of life, he determined to devote himself to the duty of warning others from "the broad road" to destruction. It was with this view that he wished for a place in one of the Universities, to qualify himself for taking orders in the Church, resolving, if that could not be obtained, to join the Calvinistic Dissenters, or even to go to the East Indies, there to offer himself as a Student, at Fort William in Bengal, and afterwards to become a Missionary among the Gentoos. Many delays, discouragements, and difficulties, which we have not room to recapitulate, intervened before he could obtain the first object of his desires, though Messrs. Coldham and Enfield liberally gave him up his articles of Clerkship; but at length, with a very slender provision, namely, 30l. per annum, paid to him by Mr. Simeon, of Cambridge, (of which it afterwards appeared that 207, were from Mr. Wilberforce, and 107. from himself) 20. more from his brother Neville, who was settled in London, and 15 or 20. more from his mother; he became a Sizar of St. John's College, Cambridge. Mr. Simeon having advised him to degrade for a year, he placed himself under the Rev. Mr. Granger, of Wintringham, in Lincolnshire, where he studied with such intense application, that his health was dangerously impaired, and he was compelled to relax a little. The following passage from Mr. Southey's narrative, will shew how severely he afterwards exereised himself at College. During his first term, one of the University Scholarships became vacant, and Henry, young as he was in College, and almost self-taught, was advised, by those who were best able to estimate his chance of success He to offer himself as a competitor for it. He past the whole term in preparing himself for this, reading for College subjects in bed, in his walks, or, as he says, where, when, and how he could, never having a moment to spare, and often going to his tutor without having read at all. His strength sunk under this, and though he had declared himself a candidate, he was compelled to decline; but this was not the only misfortune. The general College examination came on; he was utterly unprepared to meet it, and believed that a failure here would have ruined his prospects for ever. had only about a fortnight to read what other men had been the whole term reading. Once more he exerted himself beyond what his shattered health could bear; the disorder returned, and he went to his tutor, Mr. Catton, with tears in his eyes, and told him that he could not go into the Hall to be examined. Mr. Catton, however, thought his success here of so much importance, that he exhorted him, with all possible earnestness, to hold out the six days of the examination. Strong medicines were given him, to enable him to support it, and he was pronounced the first man of his year. But life was the price which he was to pay for such honours as this, and Henry is not the first young man to whom such honours have proved fatal. He said to his most intimate friend, almost the last time he saw him, that were he to paint a picture of Fame crowning a distinguished under-graduate, after the Senate-house examination, he would represent her as concealing a Death's-head under a mask of beauty.' Vol. I. pp. 44. 45. • The exercise which Henry took was no relaxation, he still continued the habit of studying while he walked; and in this manner, while he was at Cambridge, committed to memory a whole tragedy of Euripides. Twice he distinguished himself in the following year, being again pronounced first at the great College examination, and also one of the three best theme writers, between whom the examiners could not decide. The College offered him, at their expence, a private tutor in mathematics during the long vacation; and Mr. Catton, by procuring for him exhibitions to the amount of 661. per annum, enabled him to give up the pecuniary asistance which he had received from Mr. Wilberforce and Mr. Simeon. Never, perhaps, had any young man, in so short a time, excited such expectations; every University honour was thought to be within his reach; he was set down as a medallist, and expected to take a senior wrangler's degree: but these expectations were poison to him; they goaded him to fresh exertions when his strength was spent. His situation became truly miserable; to his brother, and to his mother, he wrote always that he had relaxed in his studies, and that he was better; always holding out to them his hopes and his good fortune; but to the most intimate of his friends, (Mr. Mad dock), his letters told a different tale: to him he complained of dreadful palpitations of nights of sleeplessness and horror, and of spirits depressed to the very depth of wretchedness, so that he went from one acquaintance to another, imploring society, even as a starving beggar intreats for food.' Vol. I. pp. 48. 49. Such exertions and triumphs soon brought him to the grave. His mind was worn out; and it was the opinion of his medical attendants, that if his life had been protracted, his intellect would have been impaired. On the 19th of October, 1806, it pleased God to remove him to a better world, in the 22nd year of his age. "His moral qualities, his good sense, and his whole feelings, were as admirable as his industry and genius."-"It is not possible to conceive a human being more amiable in all the relations of life."-" Of bis fervent piety, his letters, his prayers, and his hymns, will afford ample and interesting proofs. "It (his piety) was in him a living and quickening principle of goodness, which sanctified all his hopes and all his affections, which made him keep watch over his own heart, and enabled him to correct the few symptoms, which it ever displayed, of human imperfection." So says Mr. Southey; but we must add, from a conviction of its truth, that few as were the symptoms of human imperfection which his heart ever displayed, his conversion (which we believe to have been real) was one of those signal miracles of Divine Mercy, by which the Redeemer manifests his willingness and his ability to save to the uttermost all that come to God by him. It was almighty grace alone that brought down the towering pride of Henry, and bound his immeasurable ambition to the foot of the cross. His manuscripts, exclusive of his correspondence, which after his decease were delivered to Mr. Southey, filled a large box. They consisted of papers on law, electricity, chemistry, the Latin and Greek languages, criticism, history, chronology, divinity, the fathers, &c. His poems were very numerous. Mr. Southey adds, "I have examined all the existing manuscripts of Chatterton, and they excited less wonder than these." We have been led into such unexpected, yet unavoidable length, in this memoir of Henry Kirke White, that we must be much more brief than we intended in reviewing his "Remains." But having already made our readers tolerably intimate with the character of this extraordinary youth, it will be sufficient to offer a few extracts from his various works, leaving them to estimate his genius and his worth. In his "Letters," having been previously acquainted with his poetry, we were rather disappointed. There is little in them of fine fancy, romantic feeling, or impassioned eloquence. Their distinguishing features are good sense, and pious sentiment, strongly enforced, and sometimes admirably expressed. The following extract from a letter dated "Wintringham, April 1805," (while he resided with the Rev. Mr. Granger) contains an amusing and truly characteristic anecdote of the writer, who certainly was as little of a being of this world as one born and bred in it well could be. Almond and I took a small boat on Monday, and set out for Hull, a distance of thirteen miles, as some compute it, though others make it less. We went very merrily with a good pair of oars, until we came within four miles of Hull, when, owing to some hard working, we were quite exhausted; but as the tide was nearly down, and the shore soft, we could not get to any villages on the banks. At length we made Hull, and just arrived in time to be grounded in the middle of the harbour, without any possible means of getting ashore till the flux or flood. As we were half famished, I determined to wade ashore for provisions, and had the satisfaction of getting above the knees in mud almost every step I made. When I got ashore, I recollected I had given Almond all my cash. This was a terrible dilemma-to return back was too laborious, and I expected the tide flowing every minute. At last I determined to go to the inn where we usually dine when we go to Hull, and try how much credit I possessed there, and I happily found no difficulty in procuring refreshments, which I carried off in triumph to the boat. Here new difficulties occurred; for the tide had flowed in considerably during my absen e, although not sufficiently to move the boat, so that my wade was much worse back than it had been before. On our return, a most placid and calm day was converted into a cloudy one, and we had a brisk gale in our teeth Knowing we were quite safe, we struck across from Hull to Barton, and when we were off Hazel Whelps, a place which is always rough, we had some tremendous swells, which we weathered admirably, and (bating our getting on the wrong side of a bank, owing to the deceitful appearance of the coast we had a prosperous voyage home, having rowed twenty six miles in less than five hours.' Vol. I. pp. 154.-155 We regret much that our limits will not allow us to quote at length a letter written from Cambridge, only four weeks before the author's death; from which it appears that as he approached the confines of earth, and the light of heaven shone brighter upon him, he discovered within himself more and more of the infirmity and deceitfulness inherent in human nature: in this ingenuous and penitential epistle, while he complains of giving himself only" half to God and half to the world," he speaks the secret and bitter experience of many a brilliant young man's heart. Vol I. p. 249. After the letters, follow ten copies of verses on the death of Henry, which at least testify the esteem in which he was held by his contemporaries. The first volume closes with the poem on "Childhood," which we have already mentioned, and a number of lesser juvenile pieces. Among these we wish that the frantic address to "Despair," had been omitted, as neither worthy of the living, nor honourable to the dead author. The second volume commences with "Clifton Grove, and other poems," originally printed in 1803. These having been long known, we shall proceed to notice some of the succeeding pieces, now first published, which fully prove that had his life and faculties been spared, Henry would not have disappointed the hopes of his admirers by his maturer compositions; for though he wrote little in verse during his two last years, the fragments found on the back of his mathematical papers show that his genius was taking giant strides toward the noblest heights of Parnassus. The "Ode addressed to Mr. Fuseli," is written in a style of poetry, resembling that Artist's style of painting, in which grace and sublimity are wonderfully mingled with extravagance and absurdity. The opening of the "Ode to the Earl of Carlisle," is far more pleasing, but the latter stanzas, being very complimentary, are very insipid. The remark may seem odd, but it will be found to be true, that as satire is the liveliest, so panegyric is the dullest of all poetry. Must we search for the cause of this in the caprice, or in the malignity of human nature? Dryden's" Mac Flecknoe," and his "Eleonora, to the memory of the Countess of Abingdon," each written with the whole strength of his genius, will admirably exemplify this curious and whimsical fact. We are tempted to make a larger extract than our limits can well afford, from "a Description of a Summer's Eve,' which contains more strokes of natural painting, though in a very humble style, than we almost ever met with in the same compass of lines. Down the deep, the miry lane, |