original, they must, to be interesting, refer to the manners of a past age. The Children in the Wood is a pretty ballad, and very well known.

The Eclogue is a narrative, or a descriptive poem, meant to exhibit the particular manners of some few individuals in a country. The Eclogue is often a conversation. Collins' Eclogues are much read- —one of them, Hassan the Camel Driver, will be found in this collection.

Juve

Satire is, in its best character, a moral lecture in verse -a censure upon something which is respected without deserving to be so-of some person who is generally approved, or of some prevailing conduct which is allowed without much blame. Satire endeavours to make its subject, whatever it is, contemptible. Satire is sometimes wholesome correction of what is wrong, and sometimes it is mean malignity-the spirit which a writer of talents expresses against some person whom he unworthily hates. nal's Satires from the Latin are translated into English— they describe the corrupt manners of the people in Rome, during the reigns of the emperors Nero, Domitian, and Trajan. Pope's and Young's Satires are, among English poetry, of this description-they attack follies and persons, ridiculous in their time. Satire is like a caricature, it diverts when first known, but unless it is very just and happy, it soon ceases to give pleasure.

The Epitaph is designed for a memorial of the dead, and is generally a few verses inscribed upon a tombstone. The following one has been much admired.

66

ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE.

"Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse.
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother.
Death, ere thou hast killed another
Fair, and learned, and good as she,

Time shall throw a dart at thee."-Ben Jonson.

This epitaph expresses very high praise. Before another so exalted by all merit as this lady was, should die, Death himself would cease to number his victims, for she

surpassed all who should live after her. But this is hyperbole, or exaggeration. These lines are pretty, and epigrammatic, that is, the words have a variety of meaning, unexpectedly and happily presented to the mind of the reader-but they are wanting in simplicity. Simplicity is a single purpose.-The epitaph not only praises Lady Pembroke, it intimates the dignity of her brother, Sir Philip Sidney, and of her son, the earl of Pembroke, and it disparages the rest of her sex by comparison with her; still it is,-(as we sometimes apply his word to expressive language,)—very happy; it conveys much in a few words. One of Mr. Pope's epitaphs is a very pure and beautiful tribute to a good woman.

66 EPITAPH ON MRS. CORBET.

"Here rests a woman good without pretence,
Blest with plain reason, and with sober sense.
No conquest she but o'er herself desired,
No art essayed, but not to be admired.
Heaven, as its purest gold, by tortures tried-
The saint sustained it, but the woman died."

The simplicity of this epitaph is perfectly obvious. The Epigram is a few verses expressing a perspicu ous and pointed meaning, and it usually conveys a brief satire. Mild William Clarke, grandfather to Dr. Clarke, the traveller, composed an epigram on seeing the inscription which is engraved over the vault, or family tomb, of the Dukes of Richmond.-The inscription is Domus ultima-in English, the last house, and the epigram, the following:

"Did he who thus inscribed the wall
Not read or not believe Saint Paul,
Who says there is, where'er it stands,
Another house not made with hands-
Or may we gather from these words

That house is not a house of Lords ?"

The writer here intimates that something which suggests the idea of eternal life, ought to be written over the

place of the body's interment. St. Paul says, in the New Testament, and alluding to the immortality of the soul, there is a 66 a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."-Our Saviour says, " in my father's house are many mansions,"-many places suitable to be assigned to my followers in their future state of existence. Mr. Clarke, who was a Christian, instantly thought, on seeing the tomb of the Lords of Richmond, of those other mansions of the dead; and because this noble race thus appeared to regard the grave as their last rest, he means at once to satirize and reprove their seeming unbelief, by insinuating, that, perhaps the heavenly habitation mentioned by Paul would not suit the pride of Lords, or that Lords, though they enjoy high honours on earth, might be excluded from an inheritance in heaven.

Besides, the kinds of poetry, that have been mentioned, there are the mock-heroic, and the pastoral. The mock-heroic gives a fanciful importance to trivial things. The commencement of Cowper's Task is mock-heroic. The poet describes the progressive elegance of seats used at different times in Britain. The whole passage is sprightly and amusing.

"Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use,
Save their own painted skins, our sires had none.
As yet black breeches were not; satin smooth,
Or velvet soft, or plush with shaggy pile:
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock
Wash'd by the sea, or on the gravelly bank
Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud,
Fearless of wrong, reposed his weary strength.
Those barbarous ages past, succeeded next
The birthday of invention; weak at first,
Dull in design, and clumsy to perform.
Jointstools were then created; on three legs
Upborne they stood. Three legs upholding firm
A massy slab, in fashion square or round.
On such a stool immortal Alfred sat,

And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms :
And such in ancient halls and mansions drear

May still be seen; but perforated sore,
And drill'd in holes, the solid oak is found,
By worms voracious eating through and through.
At length a generation more refined

Improved the simple plan; made three legs four,
Gave them a twisted form vermicular,

And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd,
Induced a splendid cover, green and blue,
Yellow and red, of tapestry richly wrought
And woven close, or needlework sublime.
There might you see the piony spread wide,
The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass,
Lapdog and lambkin with black staring eyes,
And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.

Now came the cane from India smooth and bright With Nature's varnish; sever'd into stripes, That interlaced each other, these supplied Of texture firm a lattice-work, that braced The new machine, and it became a chair. But restless was the chair; the back erect Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease; The slippery seat betray'd the sliding part That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down, Anxious in vain to find the distant floor.

These for the rich: the rest, whom Fate had placed In modest mediocrity, content

With base materials, sat on well-tann'd hides,
Obdurate and unyielding, glassy smooth,

With here and there a tuft of crimson yarn,
Or scarlet crewel, in the cushion fix'd,

If cushion might be call'd, what harder seem'd
Than the firm oak, of which the frame was form'd.
No want of timber then was felt or fear'd

In Albion's happy isle. The lumber stood
Ponderous and fix'd by its own massy weight.
But elbows still were wanting; these, some say,
An alderman of Cripplegate contrived;
And some ascribe the invention to a priest,
Burly, and big, and studious of his ease.

But, rude at first, and not with easy slope
Receding wide, they press'd against the ribs,
And bruised the side; and, elevated high,
Taught the raised shoulders to invade the ears.
Long time elapsed or ere our rugged sires
Complain'd, though incommodiously pent in,
And ill at ease behind. The ladies first
'Gan murmur, as became the softer sex.
Ingenious Fancy, never better pleased
Than when employ'd to accommodate the fair,
Heard the sweet moan with pity, and devised
The soft settee; one elbow at each end
And in the midst an elbow it received.
United yet divided, twain at once.

So sit two kings of Brentford on one throne;
And so two citizens, who take the air,

Close packed and smiling, in a chaise and one.
But relaxation of the languid frame,

By soft recumbency of outstretch'd limbs,
Was bliss reserved for happier days. So slow
The growth of what is excellent; so hard
To attain perfection in this nether world.
Thus first Necessity invented stools,
Convenience next suggested elbow-chairs,
And Luxury the accomplishe'd SOFA last."

Pastoral poetry, as the name indicates, describes the hepherd's life, and indeed many modes of rural occupation and pleasure. In America we have no persons professedly devoted to the care of flocks, but in Asia and Europe, from time immemorial, this mode of life has been followed by considerable numbers. It is necessarily lonely and quiet, and disposes the mind to reflection. When Moses was a shepherd in Midian, he saw the vision of God; when the shepherds; mentioned by St. Luke, were 66 keeping watch over their flock by night, the glory of the Lord shone round about them." There is something peculiarly innocent and interesting in the occupation of shepherds; and the state of their minds, detached from the common business of life, may be supposed to be highly favourable to poetic thought; but, notwithstand