Where poets fail in prose, it is from a want of the more prosaic elements of composition. Coleridge, for instance, had little practical shrewdness, though an imagination second only to Milton's, and much as Campbell's prose is at present censured (the causes of the weakness of which and of his ill-success in book-making, latterly, are evident), let any one turn to his early essay on English Poetry, if he would find a model of beauty supported by strength and judgment, refined by art.

The poets are not, moreover, the best prose writers, but incomparably the best critics, especially of each other. The vulgar error of the envy existing among men of genius, is as baseless as is the opinion that a fine poet is necessarily a weak critic, or the supposition that his imagination is too strong for his judgment. The greatest poets are not ignorant oracles of wisdom, but elaborate artists, who can give a reason for most of their works, though the very rarest melodies of their lyre are struck by a divine impulse above and beyond their command. There existed a crude and narrow notion of the profession of the critic formerly that he was a spiteful, malicious libeller, rather than an honest judge and admiring advocate. The Queen Anne wits appeared to consider a good critic to be the reverse side of a bad poet, as the best vinegar was made out of the vilest cider. To pick flaws in reputations and writings, once made a man's fame. Now, we know a little better. We can believe genuine criticism to be a labor of love, and the fruit of enthusiastic reverence.

Philosophical poetry is the deepest criticism, in the hands of the master-bards, Horace, Pope, Wordsworth, and Dana. We entirely believe with Owen Felltham, that "a grave poem is the deepest kind of writing." Dramatic composi

tion is, of all others, the most artificial form of writingand we find the first tragic and comic writers profoundly conversant with the principles of their art, learned Ben, the judicious Beaumont, witty Congreve. So, too, the

early classical translators into English, were philologists and critics of necessity, Fairfax and Chapman. The musing Drummond has left his judgment of books behind him-Dryden has written the best characters of Beaumont, and Fletcher, and rare Ben, that any critic has yet done; and he has left nothing for later writers to impair or add to his portrait of Shakspeare. "Glorious John's" prefaces are models of their kind, and the earliest specimens of good criticism in England. Shakspeare and Milton, from the perfection of their works, we naturally infer to have been exquisite critics.

Butler, by his satire on the abuse of learning, and ridicule of the French, has disclosed a vein of caustic criticism. Cowley was a critic and philosopher, even more than a poet; he thoroughly appreciated the most opposite styles of poetry, the Pindaric and Anacreontic. "The Phenix Pindar," he has truly written, "is a vast species alone," and consequently, he is himself little more than an able follower, a capital imitator; but the spirit of Anacreon he has caught with wonderful felicity, and paraphrased him in a style immeasurably beyond Tom Moore. In truth, the Anacreontics of Cowley surpass even the gay flashes of Anacreon, in spirit and effect. Charles Second's wits were shrewd, sharp men of the world, satirists, and critics, not to be imposed upon by pretension. Of this assertion, the Duke of Buckingham's Rehearsal is a proof, and an inimitable satire-Rochester, Waller, St. Evremond, Roscommon, were all clear and discriminating critics; but their judgment did not reach very far.

Pope's finest philosophical poem is his Essay on Criti cism; and the best imitators of Pope-Johnson and Rogers -are essentially critics with widely different tastes: Johnson rudely masculine, and Rogers delicate and fastidious to effeminacy.

To come to the present century; where do we read finer critical fragments than in Coleridge's Table Talk, and the notes to Lamb's Dramatic Specimens ? Shelley was a metaphysical critic. Hunt and Lamb are perhaps the most delicate. The papers on Lear and on Shakspeare's tragedies are the very finest criticisms ever penned on that most fertile theme of eulogy—the Shakspearean Drama. Leigh Hunt has written a body of the most agreeable, if not the profoundest, criticism of his time. Mr. Dana has produced articles on Kean's acting and Shakspeare that entitle him to rank even with Lamb and Hunt.

As a general rule, the best prose writers are the safest critics for ordinary reading, if only from the absence of any possible competition. Where they rank with the greatest critics, it is from the large share they possess of the poetical temperament, and of fancy. The critic should be half poet, half philosopher; with acute powers of analysis, a lively fancy, deep sensibility, and close reasoning faculties. This is a very rare combination: yet Hazlitt, Rousseau, and Emerson, might be placed in this category, with a score or two of names besides, taken from the vast array of miscellaneous authors. The poet ranks first, the critic immediately below him; and the two united, each first of his class, combine to form the highest instance of imagination and intellectual power.

VII.

THE MORALITY OF POVERTY.

POVERTY is a comparative term. Between the extremities of pauperism and that moderate competence, which the wealthy speak of with contempt, as a poor pittance, and which is certainly trifling in comparison with their "unsunn'd heaps," the interval is very wide. The condition of the very poor we do not take into consideration, at present, as the main topic of our inquiry, though we shall by no means omit to speak of them in turn; but we shall endeavor to present a picture of simplicity and moderation in living, and the advantages of a sufficient competence (paradoxical as it may be thought) over an overgrown and superfluous income.

Poverty has many significations, with a wide range, embracing the pauper and the poor gentleman, aye, and the poor noble, in some countries. Kings even have been beggars, and have subsisted on casual bounty. The millionaire thinks all men poor, who are not possessed of equal wealth with himself; while the day laborer regards the small trader and master mechanic as rich men. In towns, one standard of wealth prevails; in the country it is much lower. Thus we find an ever varying measure of the goods of fortune. Of a nobler species of wealth, it is not

so difficult to ascertain the true value. An excellent book is yet to be written for the rich, which should inform them of their duties towards their poorer neighbors; which should resolve the claims the poor have upon them, from the claims of nature, as well as from conventional position; which should confirm them in habits of benevolence and in the practice of "assisting the brethren." By assistance, we refer not merely to alms-giving, that being regarded as a fundamental part of charity. But we also include under that phrase, the giving of wise and disinterested counsel: defending from oppression and slander: persuading to the practice of right and justice: warning from evil, by instilling good principles and generous sentiments: and in the comprehensive language of Scripture, loving our neighbor as ourself, and consequently acting for him as if for ourself. Higher charity than this, is none: a charity the richest may be too poor to bestow; a charity the poorest may prove rich in dispensing. If love abounded, what a rich world would not this planet become! If man was to man a brother and a friend (at the same time increasing the world's gear not a copper, and neither introducing any fantastical schemes of agrarian equality), in all the relations of life and family, as master and servant, father and son, brother and companion, artist and artisan, in sickness and in health, at home or abroad, there could be no poverty, no disappointment, and none but natural sorrows. For though many sources of grief would still continue fresh and open, as sickness, death, loss of friends and family, and failure in favorite plans of life and action, yet they would be so mitigated by an universal tenderness, and so suffered by a general sympathy, as to lose half their sharpness in losing all their repulsive features. No disappoint