106 DOCTOR DARWIN. No. 134. WILLIAM COWPER. From a Picture by Jackson, in the Collection of Lord Cowper. THIS is incomparably the finest head that we ever saw of the poet COWPER. There is an odd mixture of melancholy and humour in the face; a satirical character in the mouth, and the eye is full of insanity. Altogether it is so admirable a portrait, that we think it quite needless to recommend it to the reader. We are not violent admirers of Cowper's poetry; but we think that he did great service to the cause of poetry. He was a shrewd thinker, and an unaffected, and decidedly a more strait forward writer, (if we may be allowed to use the term) than any of his immediate predecessors. In his blank verse, particularly, harsh and even humble as it often is, he spurned many of the common places which had grown round, and threatened to obscure the flower of poetry. He stripped verse bare; but made it shrewd, sensible, even picturesque—substituting truth in all things (sometimes prosaic truth) in room of the glossy unmeaning phrases, which were in use when he first rose into notice. We believe in all his descriptions and opinious. The first which, however, are often too minute and precise for poetry, have the character of individual likenesses, and are undoubted; and the last even in their saddest times wear a gloomy look of sincerity. His humorous verse is very pleasant, and his satire sometimes piquant and even strong and that he is not wanting in tenderness his "Lines on his mother's picture" and other poems amply testify. No. 135. DOCTOR DARWIN. From a Picture by Wright, in the possession of Mrs. Darwin. HAD the friend of Miss Seward possessed a finer eye, he would have been very like an existing poet,—Mr. Coleridge. He wants, CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY. 107 however, the fine self-absorbed manner of the living writer, and that dreaming speculation which hovers over his countenance, like that of a rapt priestess, till he break out into his sybilline oracles and eloquent truths, which oppress his hearer into silent wonder. DARWIN, with his hands leaning on the polished slab, seems like a mere common-place man, pondering upon the loves of the tulips, or labouring in the manufacture of a gawdy rhyme. No. 136. DR. BEATTIE. From a Picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the possession of Dr. Glennie. THIS is a very fine portrait of our old acquaintance DR. BEATTIE, the author of "The Minstrel." He has a mild, amiable, inquiring look in the eye, but the mouth is mean and inexpressive. He was something of a metaphysician, as well as a poet. His "Minstrel" has obtained at least its due share of praise; for although it is oftener read, it falls very far short of the merit of Thomson's Castle of Indolence. It is, in comparison with that poem, common-place; but there is an amiable feeling running through it, which redeems it, and preserves its popularity. We have nothing further to urge on behalf of Dr. Beattie. No. 137. CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY. From an original Picture in the possession of Arthur Anstey Calvert, Esq. We like the look of this portrait, as we like the lively writings of the author. CHRISTOPHER ANSTEY looks like a gentleman. He has a full, open, confident, examining eye, and a shrewd mouth, and looks fit to have been the author of the Bath or the Pleader's Guide. We forget whether he or his descendant wrote the second poem, (The "Pleader's Guide,") but we remember acquiring some of our principles, legal and classical, from that 108 CHARLOTTE SMITH. amusing work. We remember defending ourselves to some purpose with a quotation from Mr. Christopher Anstey, at a time when no other author stood forward in our behalf. It was at a period when we practised the gymnastic art, which goes by the name of "self-defence." Lest the reader should be pinched in an argument on that subject we will quote a line or two, which he may store in his memory: they are decisive in favour of pugilism. "Now fighting's in itself an action, In giving and receiving blows, A nameless pleasure, only tasted By those who've thoroughly been basted." The argument is founded, as the classical reader will recognize, upon the pleasant principles of the Epicurean philosophy. No. 138. CHARLOTTE SMITH. From a Picture by Opie, in the Collection of the late W. Hayley, Esq. THE late CHARLOTTE SMITH was a very amiable woman, we believe, as well as a pleasing writer. Her "Old Manor House" was one of our first books, and we are still grateful for the pleasure that it afforded us. Mrs. Smith was the authoress of several novels, as well as of some small poems; and, indeed, the greater part of her sad life was employed in harassing her invention for tales and poetry, upon the profits of which her family were in some measure to subsist. She was a kind and exemplary wife, and her likeness, which is now before the reader, will (if it does not strike his eye as beautiful) prepossess him, perhaps, in her favour, as a mild, plain, and unaffected woman. Her novels are much better than the ordinary run of those publications, and some of her little poems are very touching. CONCLUSION. We have now done with the English poets. We leave them(their likenesses, and our remarks) to take their chance with the public; secure that their merit, whatever it may be, will not remain undiscovered. The reader will at once see that these portraits have been collected under difficulties which must necessarily enhance their value, at the same time that they extenuate any occasional omission in the Catalogue of Poets. It appears evident that a large portion of England, Scotland, and Ireland has been traversed, and many collections, both public and private, examined and resorted to, for the purpose of securing the likenesses now offered. The proprietors appear not to have been satisfied as usual with generally received pictures, or ancient prints, but to have searched for the finest and most authentic portraits, and to have obtained them (or drawings from them) at an evidently large expenditure, both of time and money. The result of this has been the work now offered to the public. In regard to the literary portion of the work, the Writer of the foregoing notes will be excused for stating that he has been stimulated into eulogies upon many of the likenesses, by an unaffected admiration of the artists' talents, or a deep veneration for the poets themselves. It was not however his intention, neither was it in his power in these brief remarks, to go very deeply into the questions of poetry or of individual character. All that he designed was, to attach to each writer some little notice, sufficient to fix the reader's attention upon the portrait before him, but not long enough to detain him unduly from the next. He was desirous of investing each poet with something of an additional interest, beyond what his features alone would create; so that a person, having once turned over the leaves of this publication, might be induced to recur now and then to particular pages, in order to see how the writer had done justice to a favorite poet, or what merit he could possibly have detected in one almost utterly unknown. This has been his intention; and he hopes that he may calculate on not having failed in it altogether :-For, he would fain lure the reader once more to his pleasure, and shew him distinctly the features and characters of those grand earthly magicians, the "English Poets," whose necromancy lay, not in distorting truth or mangling the grace of nature, but in casting a radiant halo over the thoughts and feelings of ordinary life-in subduing to their purposes the burning phantoms of the imagination, or the terrible shadows of dreams-in vanquishing all things between earth and heaven, as well as all things upon earth or below it, to some beneficial purpose, either of moral impulse or innocent delight. First, There is CHAUCER, old indeed and venerable, but flourishing in green and deathless antiquity-SACKVILLE, Lord Buckhurst, our first tragic dramatist-the princely SURREY, famous for his misfortunes and his love-SIDNEY, the incarnation of chivalry—and the laurelled and ever-honoured SPENSER :-Then, the " greater still behind," the light and renown of poetry, the sun whose splendour will never set, the sublime, the tender, the profound, the witty, the passionate, the divine and peerless SHAKSPEARE, the creature" of all time," who is, and has been, and shall be, "When time is old, and hath forgot itself," the ruling spirit of imagination, and the deity of song!-Then, BEN JONSON, rare Ben Jonson," learned as a book, and rich as |