gence in the exercise of that office to which your authority has called me, or gratitude in the acceptance of that favour, which (whatever it be in itself) is undoubtedly great, since conferred on me by you. For, to judge rightly of obligations of this kind, regard must be had not only to the favour itself, but to the persons who confer it, and to the person on whom it is conferred. When, therefore, I reflect, that the station to which I am invited, has been adorned by men of the first rank in genius and learning; when I regard you, whose favour can add dignity to the most respectable characters; when, in fine, I consider myself, who could never have expected or hoped from my own merits for any public testimony of your approbation; I receive this appointment as an honour, for which the utmost exertions of labour and assiduity will be but a very inadequate return. This part of my duty, however, though feebly and imperfectly, I would wish you to believe I most willingly perform: for, to an ingenuous mind nothing can be more agreeable than the expression, or even the sense, of gratitude; and the remembrance of the obligation will rather stimulate

B 2

mulate than depress. Other considerations have, I must confess, rendered me not a little solicitous: I am appointed to superintend a particular department of science, which you have constantly distinguished by your presence and attention; and a subject is to be discussed, which not only you have judged worthy of your cultivation, and the public countenance of the University, but which has hitherto received in this place all the embellishments of grace and elegance, of which it is naturally susceptible. Should it, therefore, fall into neglect or disrepute hereafter, I fear that I shall be compelled to acknowledge the fault to have been mine, and not that of the institution itself.

Whatever degree of success, indeed, may attend my endeavours, let it not for a moment be suspected, that the design is not altogether deserving of approbation. For, can there be any thing of more real importance to literature itself, can any thing be more consistent with the ends for which this University was founded, than that the art, of whose assistance every other art and profession has so greatly availed itself, should be as-signed a place among the rest? that art, so venerable

venerable for its antiquity, so delightful in itself; that art, which is in a manner congenial to humanity, and which sets off Nature by the most agreeable representation of her beauties: which, among the ignorant and the learned, the idle and the studious, has ever obtained favour, admiration, and regard. Nothing surely can be more worthy of a liberal and accomplished mind, than to perceive what is perfect, and what is defective, in an art, the beauties of which frequently lie beneath the surface; to understand what is graceful, what is becoming, in what its excellencies consist; and, in a word, to discover and relish those delicate touches of grace and elegance, that lie beyond the reach of vulgar apprehension. From these subtile researches after beauty and taste, there is also the fairest reason to apprehend that the judgment itself will receive some accessions of strength and acuteness, which it may successfully employ upon other objects, and upon other occasions. Such at least appear to have been the sentiments of that excellent person, to whose munificence

2 The poetic Lecture was instituted by HENRY BIRKHEAD, LL.D. formerly Fellow of All Souls.

Poetry has been long indebted for her admission into the circle of those sciences which are cultivated in this University. For, possessing a mind not only instructed in the most useful branches of knowledge, but adorned with the most elegant arts; and having imbibed the first principles of education in a seminary, where the most important and sacred subjects, recommended by all the elegance of polite literature, have been heretofore, and still continue to be, studied with vigour and effect; he saw and experienced how much an attention to these elegancies would contribute to the investigation or illustration of the severer branches of erudition, and how strict the alliance between Philosophy and the Muses.

The design, therefore, of the author of this Institution, as well as the usual practice on occasions like the present, reminds me, Gentlemen, of the propriety (though a matter already familiar to most of you) of premising a few such observations as appear least exceptionable concerning the end and utility of the poetic art.

Poetry is commonly understood to have two objects in view, namely, advantage and

pleasure,

pleasure, or rather an union of both. I wish those who have furnished us with this definition, had rather proposed utility as its ultimate object3, and pleasure as the means by which that end may be effectually accomplished. The philosopher and the poet, indeed, seem principally to differ in the means by which they pursue the same end. Each sustains the character of a preceptor, which the one is thought best to support, if he teach with accuracy, with subtlety, and with perspicuity; the other, with splendour, harmony, and elegance.

The one makes his

3 There are, however, poems which only delight, but which are not, therefore, to be condemned: some, which, though they contain no moral precepts, no commendation of virtue, no sentiment curious or abstruse, yet dress and adorn common ideas in such splendour of diction and harmony of numbers, as to afford exquisite pleasure; they bring, as it were, before our eyes, the woods and streams, and all the elegant and enchanting objects of nature. The excellence of such poems is founded upon the same principle with that of a beautiful picture, which is more valued for contributing to pleasure only, than many other things are for their actual utility. What follows I greatly approve only I would not wish it to be denied, that there are some poems which have no design but that of giving pleasure, and that this is even a laudable end; nor, indeed, does our author altogether suppose this impossible. M.