Information; his advocacy of the delusive theme of universal suffrage, and his 'Dialogue between a Farmer and a Country Gentleman, on the Principles of Government,' a party production, for the circulation of which his future father-in-law, Dr. Shipley, the Dean of St. Asaph, was subjected to a government prose cution. From these fluctuating avocations Jones was finally removed in 1783, by an appointment which, in its contingencies, proved most accordant with his predilections, and subsidiary to his reputation. This was his elevation by Lord Shelburne's ministry to a seat on the judicial bench of Fort William, at Bengal, whither he repaired with the honour of knighthood during the course of the same year. Previous to his departure he married Anna Maria, the daughter of the Dean of St. Asaph, a lady to whom he had for some years paid court, and in whom he found a companion the most devoted to his interest and tender of his happiness. Scarcely had he settled himself at Calcutta, than, associating with the most experienced scholars in the Eastern tongues, he began to study Sanscrit, and projected the plan of a society which was speedily incorporated for the avowed purposes of exploring the literature and antiquities of Asia. Of this body the Presidentship was tendered to Warren Hastings, then Governor-general of India, but by him politely renounced in favour of the founder. For this responsible situation no man was better qualified, and to the prosecution of its objects few enthusiasts could have more profitably bent their exertions. The society commenced its sittings in 1784, and has since continued to labour with signal credit to the members, and instruction to the country. The first volume of its Researches, edited by the President, appeared in 1787; he superintended the publication of two others, and a fourth was ready for press at his death. But one avocation alone was insufficient for the busy mind of Sir William Jones: before a twelvemonth had elapsed he made an excursion into the interior, though suffering under severe illness; and upon his return to the presidency, set on foot a periodical publication entitled the Asiatic Miscellany,' to which, for two years, he was a liberal contributor of poems and essays connected with Indian topics. Thus, sedulously diversifying his time between the cares of his situation, and the varieties of literature, he seized every op portunity of adding to his information, and supported his health, by short journeys from Calcutta. But the climate had fixed its influence upon his constitution, and the progress of dissolution was gradual but secure. Indifferent, however, to these sufferings, he looked forward with vain confidence to a happy return to England, and in the interval bestowed his leisure upon two undertakings, which were commensurate in difficulty and impor. tance. These were a translation of the Ordinances of Menu,' comprising a system of civil and religious duties, and a 'Digest of the Hindoo Code of Laws;' performances, of which the first appeared in 1793, and the second remained incomplete at his death. Nor was he less prone in poetical indulgence, for in 1788 he translated from Hafeti the 'Loves of Laili and Mujnoon,' and published the versification at his own expense, giving the profits of the sale to the insolvent debtors in the jail of Calcutta. During the following year he also presented the world with Sacontala, or the Fatal Ring,' a translation from an ancient Indian drama, which in England was by some considered spurious, but which, as Sir William lustily maintained, was an original composition. At length the delicacy of Lady Jones's health could no longer withstand the extreme enervation of the climate, and as the only preservative of existence, she was compelled to revisit Europe, in December 1793. Her husband designed to follow her after a season or two, but life was spared to him for only a few months after her departure. On the evening of the 20th of April, 1794, he prolonged his walk to an unusually late hour, and in consequence of this partial irregularity, was seized with an inflammation of the liver, which, in seven days more, put an end to his career without any symptoms of particular suffering. Among his papers was discovered an epitaph, which was apparently designed for his own grave, and is inserted here, because it is a composition incomparably more characteristic than the one placed on his monument. Here was deposited but sought not riches: none below him, but the base and unjust, his parents, kindred, friends, country, which was the chief source of all his pleasures, and all his pains; his life to their service the improvement of his mind, giving glory to his Creator, good will to his creatures, on the twenty-seventh day of April, in the year of our blessed Redeemer, One thousand seven hundred and ninety-four. Of Sir William Jones's works, which were printed by his lady, in six volumes, 4to., the only portion now read, comprises his poetry; and of the character pervading that, an anecdote preserved of his habit of study in early life, may serve to indicate the pecuiarity. He used to read, we are told, with a pen in his hand, and mark every striking passage for subsequent imitation. The influence of this propensity pervades all he ever wrote, and he will be found a copyist or plagiarist throughout all his pages. But the reputation of one who once held a great name requires us to descend a little to particulars. Foremost, then, in the edition of his poems, as they are now published, is placed ‘Arcadia,' a pastoral, taken from a paper by Addison in the Guardian. It presents a correctness of versification and classical bearing, which will always remain creditable, but can never rise to any very high praise, while the more original qualities of rich expression and fine imagery are cultivated, and approved as warmly as they deserve to be. In the next poem 'Caissa, or the Game of 6 Chess,' the palpable derivativeness of his productions—the earnest of scholarship, but defect of authorship-is still more strongly developed. The subject matter of the Arcadia' was avowedly borrowed, but the adaptation of Caissa' was somewhat more his own; and he was, therefore, necessitated to cull the beauties of other poets, in order to work out an agreeable context. Of such literary loans it may be philosophical truth, that may be applied, they are always fainter from reflection. In his odes, however, he succeeded better: there is a familiar state in the 'Muse Recalled,' which few have attempted, and he has certainly made engaging. The two imitations of Alcæus and Callistratus' have a nerve, and apposite amplification, which, to be justly appreciated, should be read. The translations and imitations from the poets of the East have been highly praised, and much prized, but are rendered with considerable inequality; and, though sometimes lofty, are mostly crude,—indeed the observation may be extended to almost all his rhymes. In general he gives a full expression of his author's sense, but neither seizes his style, nor grapples with those bolder traits which genius is always sure to embrace by a natural sympathy, even in passages where the matter provokes no expectation, and seems to admit of little embellishment. The distinctive charm of the Eastern poets is brevity, uniformly neat, and invariably strong. Every thought with them is a mine of wealth, an isolated lake of freshness, or secret horde of sweets; the object is brought fairly and fully before the mind, and the reader is left to illustrate its varieties by the richness of his own ideas. But Sir William Jones often plays with this spirit as a child models a Chinese palace with cards, or a boy mimics a bust on a cherry stone. When he labours, he is pedantic, and when literal, he proses. The Hymn to Laschmi' is sustained with a finer imagery and bolder expression than he usually feels, or declares; and the Hymn to Narayena,' may be referred to for some of the brightest beauties he has attained, and the darkest faults he has reached. BEN JONSON. O RARE BEN JONSON! is the only inscription, under a bust, which is neatly chiselled, and emblematically ornamented, in the Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey. The commemoration is as quaint as it is brief; and all the particulars that are preserved respecting the life of its subject correspond in meagreness and uncertainty. The son of a clergyman, who was descended from a Scotch family, and forfeited an estate during the miserable reign of Queen Mary; he was born at Westminster, on the 11th of July, 1574, and there educated, at the public school, under Camden the Antiquary. The father died before the son was born, and the widow entered into a second marriage with a bricklayer, who took the young dramatist from Westminster school and employed him as a drudge in masonry. Ben, however, was by this time sufficiently instructed in the classics to study by himself; and there is an anecdote related, which describes him labouring at the building of Lincoln's Inn, with a trowel in one hand, and an edition of Horace in the other. Camden too, as is conjectured, had noticed his talents, and now pitying his degradation, encouraged him with promises, until he was able to procure him the office of tutor to Sir Walter Raleigh's son, with whom he travelled into the Low Countries. How long he fulfilled this trust, or how long he remained absent from England, are facts unknown. It appears, however, that he entered the army while abroad, and acquired some distinction in arms, and, also, that upon his return he became a student at St. John's College, Cambridge. Here information again fails the biographers, and no one can state the time he continued at the University, or the cause and circumstances under which he left it. It seems, nevertheless, that he next bent his |