life from darkness," is perhaps the most poetical of all objects, and is most readily personified and imagined to be a living being, uttering a musical, though vague and tumult-like song, which a poet has thus finely interpreted in the "Song of the Moorland Stream:"

"I was born far up in the moorland height,
Where the red deer makes his lair at night,
And the wild bird makes her lonely nest
Secure on the hill-top's heathery crest.
I started my race in the morning prime,
When the dew lay fresh on the fragrant thyme,
And I'm hasting along, light-hearted and free,
To meet my parent, the great old sea.

As I pass'd on my way the snug little farm,

My turbulence calm'd, and my heart grew warm,

And the trees hid my breast from the scorching beam,
And the osiers kiss'd my sparkling stream,

And I heard the children's voices at play,

And I loved the place, and I fain would stay;
But a voice from afar seem'd to call to me,

'Go meet thy parent, the grand old sea!'”

Armstrong left his beloved Liddel early, and there is no evidence that he ever saw its beautiful banks and "hospitable swains "the Dandie Dinmonts of their day-again.

The poet's father and brother were both ministers of Castleton-the one probably the assistant and successor of the other -and are said to have been much respected for their piety and professional diligence. Of Armstrong's school-days we know nothing, except what he tells us himself in his poem, where, addressing the Liddel, he says:

"Oft, with thy blooming sons, when life was new,
Sportive and petulant, and charm'd with toys,
In thy transparent eddies have I laved:

Oft traced with patient steps thy fairy banks,

With the well-imitated fly to hook

The eager trout, and with the slender line

And yielding rod solicit to the shore

The struggling panting prey; while vernal clouds

And tepid gales obscured the ruffled pool,

And from the deeps call'd forth the wanton swarms."

After going through the usual routine of school education, our

poet was sent to the University of Edinburgh, where he pursued the study of languages, philosophy, and physic, with great assiduity and success, and on the 4th February 1732, took his degree of M.D. with éclat. The subject of his thesis was De Tabe Purulenta. Soon after his graduation he went to London, and commenced the practice of physic. He did not, however, rapidly obtain eminence in his profession, and it soon became manifest that it was as an author, and not as a physician, that he was to shine. In 1735, he published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled, " An Essay for Abridging the Study of Physic: to which is added a Dialogue betwixt Hygeia, Mercury, and Pluto, relating to the Practice of Physic, as it is managed by a certain illustrious Society; and an Epistle from Usbeck the Persian to Joshua Ward, Esq.,' with a dedication "To the Anti-academic Philosophers, to the generous despisers of the Schools, to the deservedly celebrated Joshua Ward, John Moor, and the rest of the numerous sect of inspired physicians." This brochure was full of humour, and in his Dialogue, where he lashed the quacks of his day, is said to display much of the spirit and ingenuity of Lucian. Two years afterwards, he published a synopsis of the history and cure of the venereal disease. This was speedily followed by the "Economy of Love," his earliest poem; it is based on Ovid's "Art of Love," which it emulates in undue freedom of colouring, as well as in elegance of style and luxuriance of description. When, in 1768, many years afterwards, he republished it, "revised and corrected," much of its voluptuousness was expunged. Its publication is said to have obstructed his success as a physician. In 1744, he published his best poem, "The Art of Preserving Health," which was received with much applause, and has established his fame. Two years later he was appointed one of the physicians to the Hospital for Lame and Sick Soldiers, behind Buckingham House. A poem entitled "Benevolence" appeared from his pen in 1751, and was followed in 1753, by "Taste, an Epistle to a Young Critic." In the same year he received a tribute, in the shape of some glowingly encomiastic verses by Dr Theobald. In 1758, he published "Sketches or Essays on various sub

jects, by Lancelot Temple, Esq." He is supposed to have been assisted in this production by Wilkes, with whom he had formed an intimacy, based on their common vices, we fear, as well as on their kindred powers. It was fit that the author of the "Essay on Woman" should be the friend of the author of the "Economy of Love." A recent critic calls these essays "indifferent enough." As we think this verdict rather severe, and as the book is little known, we are tempted to copy out a few of its better passages, in which, if we mistake not, we find the same vigour of mind and variety of knowledge which are conspicuous in his poetry. Thus he describes language "The best language is strong and expressive, without stiffness or exaggeration; short and concise, without being either obscure or ambiguous; and easy, flowing, and disengaged, without one undetermined or superfluous word." In the next page he has some remarks on genius, maintaining its close connexion with the moral nature-"A man of true genius must necessarily have as exquisite a feeling of moral beauties as of whatever is great or beautiful in the works of nature, or masterly in the arts which imitate nature -in poetry, painting, statuary, or music." This must have appeared somewhat paradoxical in the eighteenth century, an age conspicuous for the degradation of wit and the desecration of genius. Armstrong proceeds to prove his propositions by examples, citing Nero, who "would be nothing less than a poet, but his verses were villanously bad, and his taste in extravagance and luxury was glaring, extravagant, and unnatural to the last degree; while Caligula's taste was so outrageously wrong that he detested the works of the Mantuan poet more passionately than ever Mæcenas admired them, and if Virgil had unfortunately lived in his time, he would probably have been tortured to death for no other crime than that he wrote naturally, and like an honest man." On the statement about the connexion betwixt morality and genius, we may have something to say ere we close. Meanwhile, let us hear his definition of genius-" True genius may be said to consist of a perfect polish of soul, which receives and reflects the images that fall upon it, without warping or

distortion." "The ornamental parts of a work cost the least trouble to a writer, who has any luxuriance of imagination; to support the plain parts with an easy dignity, so that they shall neither become flat on the one hand, nor disgustingly stiff on the other, is a much more difficult task; and yet, if you succeed never so well here, you will receive little thanks from the generality of readers, who will be apt to imagine they could easily perform the same kind of work themselves-till they come to try it." "An author [a prophetic hit, by the way, at some eminent writers since, such as Horsley, Landor, &c.] seems reduced to great extremities who flies to new spelling to distinguish himself." "The only good reason for altering a long established spelling is that the writing may come the nearer to the pronunciation." "It is the easiest thing in the world to coin new words. The most ignorant of the mobility do it every day, and are laughed at for it. Horace gave, it is said, but two, and Virgil one new word to the Latin tongue." Armstrong not only opposes the introduction of new words, but votes for the superannuation of many old. The following passage has considerable ingenuity and wit, and is worthy of his coadjutor Wilkes, who was undoubtedly the smartest man of his time:" Were I an absolute prince, I should make it capital ever to say encroach or encroachment. I would commit inculcate for all its Latinity to the care of the paviours, and it should never appear above ground again. If you have the least sympathy with the human ear, never say purport while you breathe, nor betwixt, except you have first repeated between till we are quite tired of it. Methinks strongly resembles the broken language of a German, in his first attempts to speak English. Methought lies under the same objection, but it sounds better. It is full time that froward should be thrust out of all good company, especially as perverse is ready at hand to supply his place. Vouchsafe is a very civil gentleman, but as his courtesy is somewhat oldfashioned, we wish he would deign, or condescend, or be pleased to retire. From what rugged road, I wonder, did this swerve deviate into the English language? But this subject-matter! In the name of everything that is disgusting and detestable,

4

what is it? Is it one or two ugly words? What is the meaning of it? Confound me if I could ever guess! Yet one dares hardly peep into a preface for fear of being stared in the face by this nasty subject-matter." "Withal," he slily adds, "is an old-fashioned, ill-sounding word, but as there is frequent occasion for it, and no other word so perfectly expresses its meaning, we cannot afford to part with it."

We wonder what the author of the above diatribe at new words would have said, had he lived at the present day, when so many innovations are daily and daringly made upon our Queen's English-whether he would have locked "cirup cumambulate; " puffed "fuliginous" up the chimney; sent "fatuous" and "fatuity" to an asylum for idiots; dragged "tenebrious" and "tenebrific," like Cacus, into daylight, and put them publicly to death; wrung the neck of "irridescent;" unsettled the equilibrium of "stand-point; " asked of a hundred "fountain-oceans, flame-pictures, star-galaxies, and bushywhiskered, yet fire-radiant Tantalus-Ixions," if they were not compounds of "inspissated gloom," double-folded ugliness, and transcendent affectation; and, in fine, with wry faces and closed eyes, consented to swallow "subjective" and “objective." Still Armstrong was too intelligent a man not to have admitted, were he living now, that while of late much that is barbarous and chaotic has been violently carted into our tongue, much also that is strikingly expressive and philosophically accurate has been added; that many fine forgotten archaisms have been restored; and that now the British language, enriched by contributions from the French, the Italian, the German, the Scotch, and the Scandinavian, has become, more than at any former period, a thorough reflector of British thought, and a powerful and pliable instrument in the hand of British genius.

We might go on culling clever, witty, and penetrating remarks from almost every page of this volume, but must content ourselves with the few following:-" Superficial people are always the most ostentatious. I suppose you may remember that you used to be the fondest and most vain of the thing you were just beginning to learn." "Had Horace