despicable on the other. The Pleasures of Imagination excite expectations which are not, perhaps, fully gratified, whilst the poems of Lucretius and Virgil, and even the Syphilis of Fracastorius, and the Art of Preserving Health of Armstrong, delight us with beauties which cannot be anticipated, which seem the work of enchantment, and possess a double fascination from the grateful impulse of surprise. When Dr. Johnson speaks of the discordance between the wool-comber and the poet, he would induce his readers to suppose that the employment of the former was the sole subject of the poem under our consideration; but what must be their astonishment, on surveying the work, to discover that the labours of the loom occupy but a small portion of the third book! In short no theme, in this species of his art, seems better adapted for the felicitous exertions of the poet than the one Dyer has chosen, and to shew how compleatly the learned biographer has misrepresented the very nature of the poem he was criticising, I shall briefly mention the chief topics of every book. The first is entirely employed in the breeding, tending and shearing of sheep, occupations intimately connected with all that is delightful in rural

imagery, pastoral simplicity, and domestic enjoyment. The second describes the diversities and preservation of the Fleece; the countries in ancient and modern times esteemed for wool; the history of the Argonantic expedition; the decay of arts and sciences; their revival at Venice; the discoveries of Bishop Blaise; the dying of wool, and the advantages and utility of trade. The opening of the third contains a description of spinning, of the loom, and of weaving; then follow the praise of country work-houses; a prospect of Burstal and Leeds; a history of the art of weaving, its removal from the Netherlands and settlement in England; an account of saracenic tapestry; a view of the arts and wealth of different countries; a view of the roads and rivers through which our manufactures are conveyed; a comparison between our navigations and those of other countries; a relation of the attempt to join the Nile and Red Sea, the Ocean and Mediterranean through the medium of canals; an account of the union of the Trent and Severn with the Thames, and a view of the Thames and of the Port of London. The fourth displays a still more fertile field, for the poet, in tracing the exportation of our manu

factures, visits almost every part of the globe. Spain, the Mediterranean, the Baltic, Petersburg, the ancient and modern course to the Indies, Africa, Persia, Hindostan, the Spice Islands and China are introduced and adorned with various picturesque circumstances. The journey of the caravans also from Petersburg to Pekin, is related at considerable length, and abounds with many well-drawn and interesting scenes. A transition is then made to North and South America, and the poem concludes with some apposite reflections on the commerce and naval power of Great Britain.

From this analysis it will be immediately perceived that Johnson has misled the public, that the idea he would insinuate is totally unfounded, and that few subjects can boast a greater variety of materials, or more calculated for poetic ornament than the Fleece.

The next paragraph with which the Doctor has favoured us contains a glaring inconsistency; after acknowledging that Dyer possessed a mind not unpoetical, he immediately adds, that he has also interested his reader in our native commodity, that he has interspersed rural

imagery and incidental digressions, yet, notwithstanding this extorted encomium, the succeeding words give the extraordinary information, that although the reader be interested in our native commodity, he is, nevertheless disgusted and repelled by the subject, however willing to be pleased, and that even the poet himself sinks under insuperable oppression from the meanness and irreverence habitually annexed to it.

Now, to interest the reader in the subject, to intersperse rural imagery, and incidental digressions, is the very definition of excellence in didactic poetry, and how the poet who has done this, can, at the same time, disgust and repel his reader, or himself sink under insuperable oppression, appears to me a most inexplicable position. The truth is, the meanness and irreverence are of Johnson's own creation, for the outline of the work includes, as we have seen, especially in the last book, more splendid and magnificent scenery than were ever before attached to any didactic poem.

When the Doctor accuses Dyer of clothing small images in great words, he has assuredly

mistaken the character of his diction, which, for purity, simplicity, and freedom from bombast, is, perhaps, one of our first models. Nothing tumid, nothing in his phraseology too great for the occasion, can, I think, be discovered in the Fleece. In those parts which are most purely preceptive, the language is plain, yet elegant, but never so elevated as to throw an air of burlesque over the subject. From the digressional portion of the poem, where diction more lofty and elaborate could be used with propriety, I shall be able to select some passages which are truly sublime, and several which are justly entitled to the epithets pathetic and descriptive.

As to the encumberance of blank verse, it is well known that Johnson, owing, perhaps, to the failure of the only attempt he made in that species of versification, held it in utter aversion, and, in general, thought a poem had a claim to little mercy when clothed in this forbiddeng dress. In reviewing the works of Dyer this unhappy prejudice has operated with its wonted force, and has precluded the perception of beauties, which, had they been