apprenticeship, admitted to practice, and commenced business as a solicitor. His first appearance as an author occurred in 1817, during the period of his apprenticeship. Contrary to the usual rules of prudence in such cases, his father encouraged his dalliance with the muses at a time when precedents in conveyancing ought to have engaged all his attention. It is acknowledged by the editor that the small volume of poems which Mr. Neele, with his father's assistance, published thus early, "displayed evident marks of youth and inexperience." Collins was his avowed model, and, if we are to rely on the friendly criticism of Dr. Nathan Drake, whose judgment, however, we do not always deem infallible, "these firstlings of his earliest years" were "very extraordinary efforts indeed," and placed the name of the author next to those of "Chatterton and Kirke White." A second edition of those compositions was printed in 1820, and was followed in 1823 by a volume of dramatic and miscellaneous poetry, which was dedicated, by permission to Mrs. Joanna Baillie. He next became a contributor to the periodical publications, and a very industrious one too, if we may judge from the number of poems, dramatic sketches, and tales, which are reprinted in the work before us. In 1826 and 1827 he delivered, first at the Russell, and next at the Western Literary Institution, the "Lectures on English Poetry, from the days of Chaucer down to those of Cowper," which form the principal attraction of the present volume. Though written occasionally with much carelessness, yet we agree with the editor in thinking that they are "discriminative and eloquent, abounding in well selected illustration, and inculcating the purest taste." There are a few, and but a few, sages in them which were evidently intended for declamatory effect; but the style in which they are generally clothed is clear and well sustained, and the enthusiasm which sometimes breaks out through them, affords a decided proof of the author's predilection for the poetic branches of our literature.

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We do not much admire the manner in which he commences his first lecture. Being about to open his subject in an institution in which the mechanical and useful arts had been then recently explained, he would have been justified in admitting that poetry, as compared with those arts, required a different and a higher order of intellect, and was less essential than they are to the ordinary purposes of life. But it was adopting a very narrow view of his undertaking at the outset, to say that poetry was "a mere superfluity and ornament," because, as Falstaff said of honour, "it cannot set to a leg, or an arm, or heal the grief of a wound; it has no skill in surgery." In the earliest ages of the world, poetry was history, and religion, and morality. In the more advanced ages, poetry served to inspire the soldier, to soften the manners of barbarians, and to procure for the fair sex that graceful deference, which is necessary to the support of their useful and civilizing influence. In all ages, poetry is the purest medium for preserving a settled language, and, perhaps, the best instrument for reforming a corrupt one. To this truth our own tongue bears ample evidence. It is not Museum.-VOL. XIV.

true, therefore, that poetry, even considered practically, is "a mere superfluity and ornament;" it has attributes of the most useful nature, which rank it amongst the highest gifts bestowed on the intellect of man.

The whole of the following passage borders very nearly on bombast:

"The canvas fritters into shreds, and the column moulders into ruin; the voice of Music is mute; and the beautiful expression of Sculpture a blank and gloomy void: the right hand of the Mechanist forgets its cunning, and the arm of the Warrior becomes powerless in the grave; but the Lyre of the Poet still vibrates; ages listen to his song and honour it: and while the pencil of Apelles, and the chisel of Phidias, and the sword of Caesar, and the engines of Archimedes, live only in the breath of tradition, or on the page of history, or in some perishable or imperfect fragment; the pen of Homer, or of Virgil, or of Shakspeare, is an instrument of power, as mighty and magical as when first the gifted finger of the Poet grasped it, and with it traced those characters which shall remain unobliterated, until the period when this great globe itself,

'And all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like an insubstantial Pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind!"-p. 5.

Had Mr. Neele been conversant with only a little more "Greek," he would not have talked so confidently of the pen of Homer. We do not profess to understand the author's meaning, where he speaks of the same pen being as mighty and as magical as when first the gifted finger of the poet grasped it. But we must acknowledge that the lectures are not often blemished by passages such as this.

Chaucer is allowed on all hands to be the great father of English poetry. He graced the reign of Edward III., and from that period to the reign of Henry VIII., the continued political and religious agitations of the country almost silenced the voice of the muses. The names of Lords Surrey, Vaux and Buckhurst, and Sir Thomas Wyatt, prevent, however, this interval from being considered as a local blank. These names prepare us, as the twilight for the morning, for those of Shakspeare, Spenser, Ben Jonson, Fletcher, and Massinger, the poets of the age of Elizabeth, and the contemporaries of Tasso, Camoens, and Cervantes. It is worthy of remark, in passing, that at this period there appeared to be a striking congeniality of spirit between the literature of Spain and of England. This circumstance Mr. Neele has noticed.

"In Spain and England, Literature, and especially Dramatic Literature, flourished simultaneously; and a similarity of taste and genius appears to have pervaded both nations. The same bold and irregular flights of fancy, the same neglect of all classical rules of composi tion, more than atoned for by the same original and natural beauties of thought and diction; and the same less venial violations of time, place, and costume, characterize both the Castilian and the English Muses. There appears then to have existed an intercourse of literature and intellect between the two nations, the interruption of which is much to be deplored. No. 82.-2 I

The Spanish language was then much studied in England; Spanish plots and scenery were chosen by many of our Dramatists, and their dialogues, especially those of Jonson and Fletcher, were thickly interspersed with Spanish phrases and idioms. The marriage of Philip and Mary might probably conduce greatly to this effect; though the progress of the Reformation in England, and the strong political and commercial hostility, which afterwards existed between the two nations, appear to have put an end to this friendly feeling. English Literature then, began to be too closely assimilated to that of France, and sustained, in my opinion, irreparable injury by the connexion. Spain appears to be our more natural ally in Literature; and, it is a curious fact, that after the Poetry of both nations had for a long period been sunk in tameness and mediocrity, it should at the same time suddenly spring into pristine vigour and beauty, both in the Island and in the peninsula; for Melandez, Quintana, and Gonsalez, are the worthy contemporaries of Byron, Wordsworth, Scott, and Moore."-pp. 13, 14.

Under the pedantic rule of James I. literature made but slight advances; Charles I. assisted its progress materially by the elegance of his taste, as well as the munificence of his patronage. The commonwealth, if it produced nothing else, will remain for ever distinguished as the era of Milton. His "Paradise Lost" was indeed produced at a later period, but it may be said to have been meditated amidst the religious dissentions of the republic. We are glad to observe that Mr. Neele has here refuted the common error, that Milton's immortal poem was received with great indifference on its first publication. The lecturer's remarks on this subject are judicious.

"That it (Paradise Lost,) was not at first acknowledged to be entitled to occupy that proud station on the British Parnassus, which is now universally conceded to it, is unquestionable; but it is equally certain, that when first published, it was hailed with admiration and delight, by men of the highest talent; and that even throughout the nation at large, the circumstances of the Author, and the spirit of the times considered, it was far more successful than could have been reasonably expected. The Author was a democrat and a dissenter, and the age was ultra-loyal and ultra-orthodox: the Poem was thoroughly imbued with a religious feeling and sentiment, and the public to which it was addressed, was more profligate and irreligious than it had been known to have ever been before. "Paradise Lost" was moreover written in blank verse; a new, and strange, and, to many ears, an unpleasing style of metre, and, the purity and severity of taste which reigned throughout it, was opposed to the popular admiration of the far-fetched conceits and the tawdry ornaments of Cowley, and the Metaphysical School. Notwithstanding all these disadvantages, the poem received extraordinary homage, both from the learned and the public. Andrew Marvell and Dr. Barrow addressed eulogistic verses to the Author; and Dryden, the Laureate, and the favourite Poet of the day, when Milton's Epic was first introduced to his notice by the Earl of Dorset, exclaimed "This man

cuts us all out, and the ancients too." He also complimented Milton with the well known Epigram, beginning “Three Poets, in three distant ages born;" and afterwards, with his consent, constructed a Drama, called "The State of IRnocence; or, the Fall of Man," founded upon "Paradise Lost." "Fit audience let me find, though few," says Milton, and his wish was more than gratified; for above 1300 copies-a very great number in those days-of his Poem were sold in less than two years; and 3000 more in less than nine years afterwards. It was not, however, until the celebrated critique of Addison, appeared in the "Spectator" that the English nation at large became aware that it possessed a native Poet "above all Greek, above all Roman fame," and that it fully rendered him the honours which were so unquestionably his due."-pp. 22, 23.

The reign of Charles II. is marked in literature by the publications of Milton, the productions of Butler, Otway, and Dryden, and a profligate set of dramatic writers, who have left comedies behind them that are a disgrace to our language. Mr. Neele traces, not unjustly we think, the corrupt taste which pervaded the latter, to the pernicious example given by Beaumont and Fletcher. The manners of the age favoured this depraved taste, which has not even yet been altogether reformed.

The reign of Queen Anne has been commonly called the "Augustan age" of English literature, for what good reason it would be difficult to define. Perhaps, it must be admitted that the eminent authors of that period, particularly the prose writers, succeeded in giving to the language a greater degree of elegance and smoothness than it had attained before. Addison, Swift, and Steele, rank foremost in this work of refinement; but if we take away the productions of Pope, we shall find no traces of deep and vigorous genius impressed upon the literature of that date.

The poems of Collins, Thomson, Akenside, Goldsmith, Young, Dyer, and Gray, may be said to be linked with those of our own day by Beattie's Minstrel; thus connecting the didactic with the narrative schools, the classical with the romantic. Our author, however, does not carry his summary beyond Cowper.

After thus giving an outline of the history of English poetry, which we have deemed it sufficient to indicate by a few of the principal names, our author proceeds to treat the subject in detail, and devotes five lectures to it, in which he successively discusses the epic and narrative, the dramatic, didactic, descriptive, pastoral, satirical, and lyrical poetry of England, within the period which he had assigned to himself. As our object is to put the reader in possession of the opinions which Mr. Neele has delivered on these topics, we shall select from the mass a few passages, without going into an analysis. In thus discriminating between epic poetry and the Drama:

"The Drama is to epic Poetry, what Sculp ture is to Historical painting. It is, perhaps, on the whole, a severer Art. It rejects many adventitious aids of which the Epic may avail itself. It has more unity and simplicity. Its figures stand out more boldly, and in stronger relief. But then it has no aerial back ground:

it has no perspective of enchantment; it cannot draw so largely on the imagination of the spectator; it must present to the eye, and make palpable to the touch, what the Epic Poet may steep in the rainbow hues of Fancy, and veil, but with a veil of light, woven in the looms of his Imagination. The Epopée comprises Narration and Description, and yet must be, in many parts, essentially Dramatic. The Epic Poet is the Dramatic Author and the Actor combined. The fine characteristic speech which Milton puts into the mouth of Moloch, in the Second Book of "Paradise Lost," proves him to have been possessed of high powers of Dramatic writing; and when, after the speech is concluded, the Poet adds,

"He ended frowning, and his look denounced Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous To less than gods:"

he personates the character with a power and energy worthy of the noblest actor. I have said that the epic poet is the dramatist and the actor combined; but he is more. He must not only write the dialogue, and create the actors who are to utter it, but he must also erect the stage on which they are to tread, and paint the scenes in which they are to appear. Still, the drama, by the very circumstances which condense and circumscribe its powers, becomes capable of exciting a more intense and tremendous interest. Hence there are pieces of dramatic writing which, even in the perusal only, have an overwhelming power, to which epic poetry cannot attain. The 3d Act of Othello,' the dagger scene in Macbeth,' and the interview between Wallenstein and the Swedish Captain, may be adduced as instances. Perhaps, to sum up the whole question, what the epic poet gains in expan sion and variety, the dramatic poet gains in condensation and intensity. When Desdemona says to Othello,

'And yet I fear,

When your eyes roll so;'

we have as vivid a portrait of the Moor's countenance, as the most laboured description could give us. Again, how powerfully is the frown on the features of the Ghost in Hamlet,' pictured to us in two lines:

'So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polack on the ice.'

"Such descriptions would be meagre and unsatisfactory in epic poetry; more diffuse ones would mar the interest, and impede the action in the drama. In the drama the grand pivot upon which the whole moves is action; in epic poetry it is narration. Narration is the fitter medium for representing a grand series of events; and action for exhibiting the power and progress of a passion, or the consequences of an incident. Hence, the siege of Troy, the wanderings of Ulysses, and the loss of Paradise, are epic subjects; and the jealousy of Othello, the ambition of Macbeth, and the results of the ill-grounded partiality of Lear, are dramatic ones. The epic poet takes a loftier flight; the dramatist treads with a firmer step. The one dazzles; the other touches. The

epic is wondered at; the drama is felt. We lift Milton like a conqueror above our heads; we clasp Shakspeare like a brother to our hearts!"-pp. 43-46

In the course of his observations, the lecturer has frequent occasion to use the words taste and genius. Any person who reflects a moment on the import of the two expressions, can hardly fail to see the distinction between them. But we think that we have seldom seen that distinction more precisely or more happily defined than in the paragraph immediately following that which we have just quoted.

"Genius, I should say, is the power of production; Taste is the power of appreciation. Genius is creation; taste is selection. Horace Walpole was a man of great taste, without an atom of genius. Nathaniel Lee was a man of genius, without taste. Dryden had more genius than Pope. Pope had more taste than Dryden. Many instances may be adduced of obesity of taste in men of genius; especially with reference to their own works. Milton, who had genius enough to produce 'Paradise Lost,' had not taste enough to perceive its superiority over Paradise Regained.' Rowe, who produced so many successful tragedies, all of which-although I am no violent admirer them-possessed a certain degree of merit, valued himself most upon the wretched ribaldry in his comedy of the Biter.' Dr. Johnson was proud of his Dictionary, and looked upon the

of

Rambler' as a trifle of which he ought almost to be ashamed. The timidity and hesitation with which many juvenile authors have ventured to lay their works before the public, and their surprise when public opinion has stamped them as works of high merit, have been attributed to humility and bashfulness. The fact, however, is often otherwise; it is not humility, but want of taste. Genius, or the power of producing such works, is not accompanied by taste, or the power of appreciating them. Taste is of later growth in the mind than genius; and the reason is, I think, obvious. Genius is innate; a part and portion of the mind; born with it; while taste is the result of observation, and inquiry, and experience. However the folly and vanity of ignorance and presumption may have deluged the public with worthless productions, there can be no doubt that the deficiency of taste in men of genius, has deprived the world of many a work of merit and originality."-pp. 46-48.

Whether the term epic, as understood by the ancients, be justly applicable to any poem written in the English language, is a question which Mr. Neele thought it hardly worth while to discuss. We entirely agree with him in his reasoning upon this subject. It cannot be doubted that whatever name critics may give to the "Paradise Lost," the "Canterbury Tales," and the "Fairy Queen," these poems deserve, especially the first, to share in the honours that are due to the most precious creations of the mind. It were a most unnecessary task to enter at any length, at this day, into a discussion of the respective merits of these compositions: but we must indulge the reader with the lecturer's comparison between Chaucer and Spenser, which is drawn