the following strange sentence:-"I cannot but regret that it is pastoral; an intelligent reader, acquainted with the scenes of real life, sickens at the mention of the crook, the pipe, the sheep, and the kids, which it is not necessary to bring forward to notice, for the poet's art is selection, and he ought to show the beauties without the grossness of the country life." So then, the pastoral pipe echoing among the solitudes; the crook, meek sceptre of the mountain-king; the sheep, bright and beautiful foam, fallen as if from heaven upon the darkbrown hills, and the kids sporting with Danger around the verge of the deep precipices, are a portion of the grossness of the country life! Truly, aliquando Homerus dormitat. The "Schoolmistress" must for ever be dear to the world, partly for the subject, and partly for the manner in which it has been treated by the poet. Almost all people have some aged crone who stands to them in the light through which Shenstone has contemplated honest Sarah Lloyd; and as soon as she appears on his page, every one hails her as an old acquaintance, and is ready to prove, by her gown, or her cap, her birch, her hen, her herbs, or her devout hatred for the Pope, that she answers to his ancient preceptress-just as every one who has read Goldsmith's Schoolmaster in the "Deserted Village" is ready to cry out, "That 's my old teacher." We, at least, never can read Goldsmith's lines without seeing a certain worthy old dominie, long since dead, with his two wigs, the dun for ordinary, and the black for extra occasions; the one synonymous with frowns and flagellations, and the other with a certain smug smile which sometimes lay all day on his face, and spoke of a projected jaunt, or a quiet evening jug of punch, — with his sage advices, his funny stories, at which we were compelled to laugh, his smuggled translations discovered by us sometimes with infinite glee in his neglected desk, the warm fatherly interest he displayed now and then in his favoured scholars, and the severe ironical sarcasm (a power this in which he peculiarly excelled) which he drew at other times in a merciless mesh around the victim of his wrath till he writhed again. Nor can we take up Shenstone's poem without reviving the - memory of an elderly dame, now many years at rest, with her spectacles on her nose, her cat at her feet, her well-worn tause in her hand, and this universal apology for her continual flagellations upon her lips, the logic of which, however, her pupils were never able exactly to comprehend, "If ye are no in a fault just now, ye 're sure soon to be 't!" And we are certain that if all who have had similar experience were piling each a stone on two cairns erected to the two ingenious authors who have expressed and represented this common phase of human life, they would soon out-tower the Pyramids. Shenstone's "Schoolmistress" has not indeed the point and condensation of Goldsmith's "Schoolmaster," but its spirit is the same; and there is besides about it a certain soft, warm, slumberous charm, as if reflected from the good dame's kitchen fire. The very stanza seems murmuring in its sleep. After all, Shenstone, although possessed of great accomplishments, much true talent, and a distinct although narrow vein of poetic genius, has done little. His life was uneasy, uncertain, and in a great degree useless. He never understood, and therefore never did his work, as a man. He first found, and then forgot and abandoned the sole path as a poet which his genius was qualified profitably to pursue. Yet his memory shall always survive, as the sweet singer of the two simple strains we have been just panegyrizing. And then there is, as aforesaid, his great-little work,-the Leasowes; but, alas! of it, only the ruins remain-and while they preserve the recollection, they also preach the lesson of the weakness of this honest but indolent man-this true but selfstunted Poet. CONTENTS. ELEGIES. I. He arrives at his retirement in the country, and takes occasion to expatiate in praise of simplicity. II. On Posthumous Reputation. To a Friend PAGE To a III. On the Untimely Death of a certain learned acquaint ance IV. Ophelia's Urn. To Mr Graves V. He compares the turbulence of love with the tranquillity of friendship. To Melissa his friend VI. To a Lady, on the Language of Birds VII. He describes his vision to an acquaintance 8 10 11 VIII. He describes his early love of Poetry, and its conse quences. To Mr Graves 14 IX. He describes his disinterestedness to a friend 16 X. To Fortune, suggesting his motive for repining at her XI. He complains how soon the pleasing novelty of life is over. To Mr Jago XIII. To a Friend, on some slight occasion estranged from XIV. Declining an invitation to visit foreign countries, he takes occasion to intimate the advantages of his To Lord Temple XV. In memory of a private family in Worcestershire XVII. He indulges the suggestions of Spleen.-An Elegy to XVIII. He repeats the song of Colin, a discerning shepherd, lamenting the state of the woollen manufacture XIX. Written in spring, 1743 . XX. He compares his humble fortune with the distress of others; and his subjection to Delia with the miserable servitude of an African slave 33 37 40 L 43 46 PAGE XXI. Taking a view of the country from his retirement, he is led to meditate on the character of the ancient Bri- XXIV. He takes occasion, from the fate of Eleanor of Bretagne, to suggest the imperfect pleasures of a solitary life XXV. To Delia, with some flowers; complaining how much LEVITIES; OR, PIECES OF HUMOUR. 99 105 107 109 |