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the if not all,'* which supposes a defectiveness by no means I think imputable to this pure and delightful summary of genuine felicity in this life. To look beyond with assured hope could hardly be the lot of the best philosophers and men, before Christianity; and we know that it was not. This idea I have ventured to supply by a closing line, which at the same time brings the whole into the form of a Quatuorzain.

"That the SONNET is favourable to condensation of thought is clear from theory and experience; when the subject is well chosen and suitably treated. And condensed as the original is, I think I have expressed its ideas without omission in an equal number of lines. I flatter myself I shall prove that no subject worthy of poetry is so great and comprehensive, as not to have been with becoming dignity expressed in this form. And indeed I hardly know, or can imagine any subject which is worthy of the Muse, which has not been thus included. And it is the glory of the Sonnet to add that it has most rarely been disgraced by any unworthy subject." +

The first line of Cowley's translation is,

"These are the chief ingredients, if not all."

I feel

+ I cannot refrain from adding the following passages of Mr. LOFFT's letter, (which seem more properly placed in a note) though I have to apologize for the unmerited expressions of kindness regarding myself which occur in them. The benevolent writer refers to some peevish expressions regard ing the bar, which I had presumed to use in No. IV. of the Ruminator,

"I have treated," continues he, "the forensic gown, with tenderness; indeed with affection: for although in more than thirty years my gown has brought me but little profit, and perhaps not much of fame, it would be disingenuous not to own, that both it and the profession, have been, and I trust always will remain exceeding dear to me. And I cannot do otherwise than acknowledge, that I wish the ingenuous delicacy of your mindwould have

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I feel no common pleasure in being able to prove the justness of these observations of Mr. LOFFT, by one of his own Sonnets, than which a nobler does not exist in the English language, even including those of Milton.

"SONNET.

Occasioned by one of Miss Caroline Symmons "on a blighted Rose-bud," written in her 12th year; she having herself fallen a victim to a consumption at the age of fourteen years and one month, on June 1, 1803.

"O, what a length of days indulg'd to me,

Who little have employ'd the boon of Time!

While thee Death cropt in the first dawn of prime;
Sweet, and hope-breathing Flower!-How ill agree
Such hopes, such early Fate!-But no:-to thee
Expands the beauty of a purer clime;

The eternal radiance of that blest Sublime
Which tenderest Innocence may happiest see!
And such the will of Heaven. Nor could it speak
More clearly to mankind.-That loveliest bloom,
That Morn of Promise which began to break,
Clos'd in the dreary darkness of the Tomb

permitted you to have continued in it. Where, to be silent as to any living character, we can think of such men (all of them more or less cotemporaries) as Mr. Charles Yorke, the Earl of Hardwicke, Earl Camden, the Earl of Mansfield, Mr. John Lee, Sir Michael Foster, Sir William Blackstone, Sir William Jones, it conveys the plea ing and satisfactory sentiment that the ENGLISH BAR has been, and may it ever be, not incompatible with the most elegant, the most enlightened, the most cultivated, vigore us, upright, and comprehensive minds; with the steadiest attachment to freedom, to their country, and to the best interests of human society: that it may ever supply the most splendid, noblest, and most permanently effectual opportunities of promoting all these pure and su ime objects !"

Proclaim:

Proclaim: Look, Mortals, to that world on high,
Where Sweetness, Genius, Goodness cannot die.'

C. L. 4 Jan. 1804."*

However unequal the following may be to the subject, it is a tribute which the feelings of my heart demand that I should not withhold.

To CAPEL LOFFT, Esq.

On reading the last Sonnet.

Son of the Muse, urge thy untir'd career

Right onward thro' the clouds of worldly wrong;
Thro' all the ills that round life's pathway throng;
Nor flag thy plumes at Envy's frown severe;
Nor listen to the baleful Critic's sneer;

With voice unfaultering speed the moral song;
And pour the copious stream of Truth along!
Genius shall strains like these delighted hear,
And Virtue with a swelling breast attend
Enraptur'd on the lay. The holy Muse
Of Milton's self from yonder clouds shall bend,
And on thy lyre drop fresh Castalian dews;
While Petrarch and deep Dante clap their wings,
And each in blended notes about thee sings.

Jan. 17, 1809.

This is taken from "LAURA, or Select Sonnets and Quatuorzains," a work not yet published-containing the most copious collection of compositions of this kind ever made, not only English, but both original and translations from the Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, French, and Germanwhich will raise admiration in every enlightened mind, not only at the industry but at the learning and genius of the accomplished and amiable collector, who has himself executed the major part of the translations; and many of them with a happiness which will be sure in time to find its due pra se.

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N LXI.

On Birth.

All the arguments, which have been urged to depreciate the lustre of high birth, apply only to an abuse of its advantages. No one of strong sense, no one of elevated sentiments, could ever for a moment suppose it a substitute for virtue, or talents. If on the contrary it does not operate as an incentive to the strenuous cultivation of the mind; to an honourable ambition, and to noble actions; it has really an injurious effect, for it exposes mediocrity of character, and still more it exhibits deficiencies, in a light more glaring by the

contrast.

But let men boast of their splendid descent as they will, its glory must be considered as at best dormant, till accompanied by personal merits. There is no doubt that it gilds and graces the fame of a conspicuous character, but let him, whose personal qualities are obscure, reserve it till it can be brought to co-operate with his own exertions.

The numbers are great of those, who presume to rest their claims to distinction on the merits of their ancestors alone. But what wise or spirited person will forbear to express scorn for such empty boasts? Birth cannot put itself in competition with genius or virtue ; it is only in conjunction with these that it displays a genuine brightness. On this account equal pretensions to birth alone, without the aid of something more, can never put persons on an equality.

The various ways in which the consciousness of a brilliant descent influences an active rich and generous mind, it would require a wider space and deeper inves

tigation

tigation to develope, than this cursory essay will allow. It fans hope; impels a daring courage; breathes a generous complacency; calls forth a noble scorn of what is mean and vulgar, and directs the aspiring anibition to rule the empire of minds, if not of material kingdoms. It sets the possessor above the intimidation of ordinary greatness; and teaches him to treat the mean gewgaws with which undeserved elevation, or upstart wealth, endeavour to dazzle the world, with playful or indignant contempt.

Conscious that he has no obscurity in his origin which can be urged to disqualify him from those lofty stations, which his own efforts are put forth to acquire, he proceeds to his point firm and undaunted. There is a sort of self-depreciation in those who do not possess birth, which too frequently operates secretly to depress a noble ambition. The advantage of that feeling which has been so well expressed,

Possunt, quia posse videntur,

is wanting in them. I say frequently, for it is not always so in minds, that ought to be conscious of it; and on the other hand it in too many cases controls the aspirations of minds that ought not to be controlled by it.

The greatest characters have in very numerous instances risen from the most obscure progenitors. There is something animating in the contemplation of men who could thus emerge from the clouds and oppressions of an humble station, and who could break from the bonds of those circumstances in which it has too generally happened, that

Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.

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