The above hymn has been claimed for Michael Bruce by Mr. Mackelvie, his biographer, on the faith of 'internal evidence,' because two of the stanzas resemble a fragment in the handwriting of Bruce. subjoin the stanzas and the fragment: When chill the blast of Winter blows, Nipt by the year the forest fades; The leaves toss to and fro, and streak We The flowers resign their sunny robes, And all their beauty dies. "The hoar-frost glitters on the ground, the frequent leaf falls from the wood, and tosses to and fro down on the wind. The summer is gone with all his flowers; summer, the season of the muses; yet not the more cease I to wander where the muses haunt near spring or shadowy grove, or sunny hill. It was on a calm morning, while yet the darkness strove with the doubtful twilight, I rose and walked out under the opening eyelids of the morn.' If the originality of a poet is to be questioned on the ground of such resemblances as the above, what modern is safe? The images in both pieces are common to all descriptive poets. Bruce's Ossianic fragment is patched with expressions from Milton, which are neither marked as quotations nor printed as poetry. The reader will easily recollect the following: Yet not the more Together both, ere the high lawns appeared WILLIAM WHITEHEAD. Par. Lost, Book iii. Lycidas. WILLIAM WHITEHEAD (1715-1785) succeeded to the office of poetlaureate, after it had been refused by Gray. He was the son of a baker in Cambridge, and distinguished himself at Winchester School, on leaving which he obtained a scholarship at Clare Hall, in the university of his native town. He was afterwards tutor to the son of the Earl of Jersey. Whitehead had a taste for the drama, and wrote the Roman Father,' and 'Creusa,' two indifferent plays. After he had received his appointment as laureate, he was attacked by Churchill, and a host of inferior satirists, but he wisely made no reply. In the family of Lord Jersey he enjoyed comfort and happiness, till death, at seventy, put a period to his inoffensive life. Variety. This easy and playful poem opens with the description of a rural pair of easy for tune, who live much apart from society. Two smiling springs had waked the flowers Ye lovers, lend your wondering ears, Who count by months, and not by years Two smiling springs had chaplets wove Had, somehow, got a different face, Full oft, unknowing why they did, A courteous neighbour at the door, At morn, at noon, at eve, at night: With awkward creatures bred at home- We live, my dear, too much together.' Advanced to fashion's wavering head, In different circles reigned supreme; So separate, so quite bon-ton, She, lank and pale, and hollow-eyed, Silence is eloquence, 'tis said. Both wished to speak, both hung the head. At length it burst. "Tis time, he cries, 'When tired of folly, to be wise. Are you, too, tired ?'-then checked a groan. She wept consent, and he went on. And still, returning to the nest, Of all that's gay, and all that's great: As makes our home the more our own. SAMUEL BISHOP. SAMUEL BISHOP (1731-1795) was an English clergyman, Master of Merchant Taylors' School, London, and author of some miscellaneous essays and poems. The best of his poetry was devoted to the praise of his wife; and few can read such lines as the following without believing that Bishop was an amiable and happy man: To Mrs. Bishop, on the Anniversary of her Wedding-day, which was also her Birthday, with a Ring. Thee, Mary, with this ring I wed'— If she, by merit since disclosed, Here, then, to-day-with faith as sure, I took thy troth, and plighted mine To thee, sweet girl, my second ring CHRISTOPHER SMART. CHRISTOPHER SMART, an unfortunate and irregular man of genius, was born in 1722 at Shipbourne, in Kent. His father was steward to Lord Barnard-afterwards Earl of Darlington-and dying when his son was eleven years of age, the patronage of Lord Barnard was generously continued to his family. Through the influence of this nobleman, Christopher procured from the Duchess of Cleveland an allowance of £40 per aunum. He was admitted of Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, in 1739, elected a fellow of Pembroke in 1745, and took his degree of M.A. in 1747. At college, Smart was remarkable for folly and extravagance, and his distinguished contemporary Gray prophesied truly that the result of his conduct would be a jail or bedlam. In 1747, he wrote a comedy called a Trip to Cambridge, or the Grateful Fair,' which was acted in Pembroke College Hail, the parlour of which was made the green-room. No remains of this play have been found, excepting a few songs and a mock-heroic soliloquy, the latter containing the following humorous simile: Thus when a barber and a collier fight, The barber beats the luckless collier white; Black, red, and white, in various clouds are tossed, Having written several pieces for periodicals published by Newbery, Smart became acquainted with the bookseller's family, and married his step-daughter, Miss Carnan, in the year 1753 He now removed to London, and endeavoured to subsist by his pen. The notorious Sir John Hill-whose wars with the Royal Society, with Fielding, &c. are well known, and who closed his life by becoming a quack-doctor-having insidiously attacked Smart, the latter replied by a spirited satire, entitled 'The Hilliad.' Among his various tasks was a metrical translation of the 'Fables' of Phædrus. He also translated the psalms and parables into verse, but the version is destitute of talent. He had, however, in his better days, translated with success, and to Pope's satisfaction, the Ode on St. Cecilia's Day.' In 1756, Smart was one of the conductors of a monthly periodical called 'The Universal Visitor; and to assist him, Johnson -who sincerely sympathised, as Boswell relates, with Smart's unhappy vacillation of mind-contributed a few essays. In 1763, we find the poor poet confined in a madhouse. 'He has partly as much exercise,' said Johnson, as he used to have, for he digs in the garden. Indeed, before his confinement, he used for exercise to walk to the alehouse; but he was carried back again. I did not think he ought to be shut up. His infirmities were not noxious to society. He insisted 6 on people praying with him-also falling upon his knees and saying his prayers in the street, or in any other unusual place; and I'd as lief pray with Kit Smart as any one else. Another charge was, that he did not love clean linen; and I have no passion for it.' During his confinement, it is said, writing materials were denied him, and Smart used to indent his poetical thoughts with a key on the wainscot of his walls. A religious poem, the Song to David,' written at this time in his saner intervals, possesses passages of considerable power, and must be considered one of the greatest curiosities of our literature. What the unfortunate poet did not write down-and the whole could not possibly have been committed to the walls of his apartment-must have been composed and retained from memory alone. Smart was afterwards released from his confinement; but his ill-fortune-following, we suppose, his intemperate habits-again pursued him. He was committed to the King's Bench prison for debt, and died there, after a short illness, in 1770. The following is part of his Song to David. O thou, that sit'st upon a throne, To bless each valley, grove, and coast, Of gratitude in throngs; O servant of God's holiest charge, Which thou mayest now receive; To this the wreath I weaye. Great, valiant, pious, good, and clean, Strong, constant, pleasant, wise! Great-from the lustre of his crown, Valiant-the word, and up he rose; And, armed in gallant faith, he took Pious-magnificent and grand, Foremost to give the Lord his dues, Good-from Jehudah's genuine vein, Clean-if perpetual prayer be pure, Clean in his gestures, hands, and feet, Sublime-invention ever young, O'er meaner strains supreme. Contemplative-on God to fix |