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of its grape. The two latter are mentioned, among other Tuscan and Neapolitan wines, by Redi, in his Bacco in Toscana; but his favourite is Montepulciano, which, at the conclusion and climax of the poem, is pronounced by Bacchus himself, in his hour of transport, to be the sovereign liquor :

Onde ognium, che di Lieo
Riverente il nome adora,

Ascolti questo altissimo decreto,
Che Bassareo pronunzia, e gli dia fè,
Montepulciano d'ogni Vino é il Re.

Then all that bow down to the nod,
Of the care-killing, vintager God,

Give ear and give faith to his edict divine,
That Montepulciano's the King of all Wine.

(26)I mustn't forget, though, that Bob, like a gander,
Would give a "great genius"—one Mr. Landor ;-

Mr. Walter Savage Landor, a very worthy person, I believe, and author of an epic piece of gossiping called Gebir, upon the strength of which Mr. Southey dedicated to him his Curse of Kehama. There is really one good passage in Gebir about a sea-shell, and the author is one of those dealers in eccentric obscurity, who might promise to become something if they were boys; but these gentlemen have now been full grown for some time, and are equally too old and too

stubborn to alter. I forbear to rake up the political allusions in a poem which nobody knows ; and shall say as little about those in Mr. Southey's Joan of Arc, &c. but they are such as should make the Laureat and his friends cautious how they resented other people's opinions, and dealt about epithets of indignity.

(27) And Walter look'd up, too, and begg'd to propose A particular friend of his-one Mr. Rose.

Mr. Willlam Stewart Rose, a son of the Right Honourable George Rose, and an intelligent man, but no poet. He is author of some gentlemanly, commonplace versions of old romances, which Mr. Walter Scott describes as stories "well told" in modern verse.

(28) "For poets," he said," who would cherish their powers, And hop'd to be deathless, must keep to good hours."

This is a truism, which, in a luxurious state of society, it may not be unnecessary to repeat. At such times poets are more in request than ever, and being personages who can enjoy as well as contribute to enjoyment, are more than ever liable to be spoiled. Never was a more vulgar mistake than that a true genius for poetry can do without study--meaning, by study, a careful research into every thing, books as well as men. A genius for poetry is nothing but a finer liability

to impressions; but what matters the liability, if we do not put ourselves in the way of the thoughts and feelings that are to impress us? We must look about for things, if we would acquire their images; we must amass a knowledge of words, if we would explain the images to others. Study, of course, without genius, will not make a poet, any more than eyes without sight will get any thing by poring over a microscope; but, on the other hand, a poet without study shall be in the situation of Pizarro at the Peruvian Court;-with all his powers he shall not be able to write, and his common soldiers shall get the better of him in consequence. From Dryden downwards, our poets do not appear to have been very studious men, with the exception of Collins and Gray; and the reading of Dryden himself, perhaps, was rather critical and particular, than general and greedy of knowledge. Of the two others, Collins unluckily had a fortune left him, which threw him back into idleness; and Gray (with all due respect to his Elegy) was rather a man of great taste and reading, than an original genius.* Of the studious disposition of all our greatest poets we have complete evidence

It would be curious to ascertain, how much would be due to Gray, after a diligent inspection of his obligations to the Greek and Italian poets. I doubt whether fifty lines, if so muchsetting aside his Long Story, and one or two little humorous pieces. He seems to have had a talent for ridicule; and must be allowed, on all hands, to have been a splendid imitator of the sublime.

Chaucer's eagle in the House of James accuses him of being so desperate a student, that he takes no heed of any body, and reads till he looks stupid ;

-No tidinges comin to the,
Not of thy very neighbouris
That dwellen almost at thy doris;
Thou herist neither that ne this,
For whan thy labour al done is,
And hast made al thy reckininges,
In stede of reste and of newe thinges
Thou goest home to thine house anone,
And al so dombe as any stone
Thou sittest at anothir boke,
Tyl fully dasid is thy loke.

V. 140.

Chaucer, however, was too true a poet not to read nature as well as books, as his writings abundantly testify, both in character and description. Milton and Spenser were both men of learning, and, what is rarer for poets, men of business; and so indeed was Chaucer. Shakspeare was neither a man of learning nor business; but, not to mention that Nature in him seems to have been oracular, and rather to have spoken by him than from him, it is clear that he read every thing that he came near, and perhaps the more because he had no learning; for learning is apt to make a man doat upon old books ; and the most accomplished readers, not being so apt at a dead language as at

their own, linger and brood over their favourite classic, at the expense of many a work of information.

But these names are leading me from my purpose, which was rather to remind the poeto f the general than the particular use of his hours; and here I might be seduced to return to them, for Chaucer revels in morning scenery, and Milton, in one of those prose passages of his so impregnated with his poetical spirit, has expressly told us that he was an early riser.* But I must fairly put my books off the table, lest, in being tempted to make a companion of the reader in all my favourite passages, I should convert these notes into what they really were not intended to be. The summary of advice to be given to a young poet on the present occasion is this-that although it is a main part of his business to mingle with society, for the right apprehension of their manners and passions, and, indeed, for his own refreshment and enjoyment, yet he should not so mingle with it as to get hurt by its pressure, or so as to have his attention distracted by its noise, or diverted by its seductions. Study should be his business, and society his relaxation, not vice versa; he should divide the one between the fields and his books, and the other between society in general, and that sort of friendly or domestic company

Apology for Smectymnuus.

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