him to a depreciation in that department beyond what justice would require. Swift joined in the ridicule, and they fixed upon the luckless poet, in allusion to his numerous verses in short lines, the nickname of Namby Pamby. The Doctor, in his character of Drapier, exclaims,

And who by the Drapier would not rather damn'd be,
Than demigoddized by madrigal Namby *.

The Dean of St. Patrick neither relished the flights of Young, nor the humble efforts of Philips. No two poets, indeed, could be more opposed; for while the one was too frequently soaring into the regions of bombast, the other was generally crawling contented in the valley. Swift has not overlooked the contrast; but, with his usual severity of wit, thus delineates these contemporary bards:

Behold those monarch oaks, that rise
With lofty branches to the skies,

Have large proportion'd roots that grow
With equal longitude below:

Two bards, that now in fashion reign,
Most aptly this device explain :

If this to clouds and stars will venture,
That creeps as far to reach the centre;
Or, more to show, the thing I mean,
Have you not o'er a sawpit seen

*Swift's Works, vol. xviii. p. 452.

A skill'd mechanic, that has stood
High on a length of prostrate wood,
Who hired a subterraneous friend
To take his iron by the end;
But which excell'd was never found,
The man above, or under ground.
The moral is so plain to hit,
That, had I been the god of wit,
Then in a sawpit and wet weather,

Should Young and Philips drudge together *.

Some of the most pleasing of the poetical compositions of Philips are his Songs and Translations from Sappho. The latter first appeared in the Spectator, with some introductory observations by Addison; the Hymn to Venus, in N° 223; the Fragment commencing, Blest as the immortal Gods is he, in N° 229. They are both admirably transfused, the fragment especially, which, as Addison remarks, "is written in the very spirit of Sappho." It is, indeed, the most beautiful specimen that we possess of the passionate song, and seems to have flowed from a heart exquisitely alive to the finest emotions of love and tenderness. All antiquity agrees in attributing to the muse of Sappho an influence

*Swift's Works, vol. xviii. p. 453. This is to be understood, remarks the editor of Swift, as a censure only of the poetical character of these gentlemen. As men the Dean esteemed them both, and on Philips in particular conferred many signal acts of friendship.

the most striking over the feelings; and we may, perhaps, without an hyperbole, affirm, that

When Sappho tun'd the raptur'd strain,

The list'ning wretch forgot his pain;
For while she struck the quiv'ring wire
The eager breast was all on fire;
And when she join'd the vocal lay

The captive soul was charm'd away.

SMOLLET.

When the translator of this delicious but mutilated ode of Sappho undertook to compose an essay upon Song-writing, it was not to be supposed that he would entirely overlook the empassioned song, of which this fragment is so perfect a model, and confine himself entirely to that species which chiefly turns upon smart and artificial sallies of thought, and may be discriminated by the epithet witty. This is the case, however, in the only number which he has contributed to the Guardian, N° 16; where, neglecting the pastoral and sentimental song, he has employed himself solely in delineating and giving rules for what may be aptly denominated the epigrammatic song. 66 Although many of our most celebrated poets," observes Dr. Aikin, “have exercised their talents in composing these little pieces, (songs) and their pleasing effect is universally known and acknowledged, yet have we

but one professed criticism on their composition; and this, though elegant and ingenious, is both too short and too superficial to give precision and accuracy to our ideas on this subject. It is contained in a paper of the Guardian, written by Mr. Philips *."

The essay of Philips, indeed, is so far superficial, as it neglects to notice two principal branches of the subject that he has written upon; but of the genus to which he has confined himself, nothing can be more elegant and correct than the following description :

"These little compositions," he remarks, " demand great regularity, and the utmost nicety; an exact purity of style, with the most easy and flowing numbers; an elegant and unaffected turn of wit, with one uniform and simple design. Greater works cannot well be without some inequalities and oversights, and they are in them pardonable; but a song loses all its lustre, if it be not polished with the greatest accuracy. The smallest blemish in it, like a flaw in a jewel, takes off the whole value of it. A song is, as it were, a little image in enamel, that requires all the nice touches of the pencil, a gloss and a smoothness, with those delicate finishing strokes, which * Aikin's Essays on Song-writing, p. 2, 2d edit. 1774.

would be superfluous and thrown away upon larger figures, where the strength and boldness of a masterly hand gives all the grace."

The author has given us two songs in the same paper, as illustrative of this ingenious piece of criticism, and they have much of the brilliancy and point upon which he insists. He is likewise believed to be the translator of a Lapland lovesong, inserted in N° 366 of the Spectator, and which, in point of versification, is entitled to the praise of ease and sweetness.

14. WILLIAM WOTTON, the son of the Rev. Henry Wotton, rector of Wrentham in Suffolk, was born in that parish on the 13th of August, 1666. Discovering, at a very early age, an extraordinary facility in the acquisition of languages, his father, who was an excellent scholar, took great pleasure in cultivating his talents. The result was, that when five years old he was, not without reason, esteemed a literary prodigy. He was not only better acquainted with his vernacular tongue than boys of double his years, but he had also made a considerable progress in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew; and used to amuse himself by translating portions of the scriptures out of these languages into English. It was to the pro