In the twelfth century, Henry de Avranches was entertained by our Henry the Third, as the court poet, with the title of "Master Henry the Versifier." In the same reign there was allowed a salary of forty shillings a year, and a pipe of wine, to Richard the King's Harper, but this was a distinct office from that of the poet. It was customary for these attendants upon royalty to accompany their sovereign in his expeditions, for William the Pilgrim composed a poem on the crusade of his master, Richard the First, while in the Holy Land; and Robert Baston, who was laureated at Oxford, went with Edward the Second to Scotland, to record his actions in that country. Chaucer, in the reigns of Edward the Third and Richard the Second, received a pension, with an allowance of wine from the royal cellars. In the reign of Edward IV. the title of Poet Laureate was conferred on John Kay, who wrote, in Latin, a history of the Siege of Rhodes, and other works. Andrew Bernard, an Augustine Monk, was both Poet Laureate and Historiographer to Henry the Seventh, and his successor. The next who wore the laurel was John Skelton, famous for his satires against Cardinal Wolsey, to escape whose vengeance he took refuge in Westminster Abbey, where he died in 1529. in the patent. After his death in 1599, the office of poet to the crown lay dormant till 1616, when it was revived and given to Ben Jonson, with a salary of one hundred marks a year, which was raised to pounds in 1630, and soon after old Ben received a farther grant of a tierce of Canary yearly, out of the royal cellars at Whitehall. In 1638, Sir William D'Avenant succeeded to the laurel crown, with the same salary, but no wine; at least none is mentioned in the patent, so that it seems this grant was a special favour, bestowed upon Ben at Christmas, that he might enjoy the season according to his humour. The next who held the office was Dryden, whose appointment took place in 1670, when he was also nominated historiographer royal, the joint salary being two hundred pounds a year, with the privilege of receiving annually one butt of Canary wine. Dryden enjoyed his honours and emoluments till the Revolution, when he was deprived of the whole; the laureateship being given to Thomas Shadwell, his old antagonist, and who was ridiculed by him under the name of Mac Flecknoe. On the death of Shadwell, in 1692, the distinction of royal poet was conferred upon Nahum Tate, who is only known by his New Version of the Psalms, published in conjunction with Dr. Brady. He died in 1715, and was succeeded by Nicholas Rowe, whose fame rests upon his tragedies and the translation of Lucan. At his death, in 1718, the vacant office was bestowed upon Laurence Eusden, a clergyman, who has been ridiculed by Pope; but for what cause, except that of enjoying the royal favour, cannot be ascertained. Eusden was succeeded in 1730, by Colley Cibber, whose annual odes gave more pleasure to "Great Cæsar," as he called George the Second, than to the public. Cibber enjoyed the wreath twenty-nine years, and was succeeded by William Whitehead, a poet of more genius, and better morals; who died in 1785. Upon that vacancy, a curious circumstance occurred, which tended to bring the office into ridicule. Joseph Richardson, a barrister, and man of wit, connected with the whig party; took advantage of the death of the laureat, to write a set of odes in the names of several public characters, who were 3 M represented as candidates for the laurel. The idea was felicitous, and the execution witty; but the probationary odes, as they are called, were all of them scurrilous, many of them indecent, and some most grossly profane. Thomas Warton was nominated to the laureateship, and a man fitter, or worthier, in all respects, could not have been found; though the appoint- | ment brought upon him a swarm of satirists. The appointment originated solely with the late king; and Mr. Warton did honour to the royal discernment: his odes being very different from those servile and adulatory compositions which had hitherto been usually presented at court. This ingenious writer was succeeded in 1790, by Henry James Pye, who had distinguished himself as the author of several elegant pieces in prose and verse; but his acceptance of the laurel after sitting in parliament as knight of the shire for the county of Berks, excited great surprise. The distinction of poet to the court had long ceased to be viewed with respect, and for obvious reasons, since it had been often conferred on men of no merit, and was looked upon as exact ing services degrading to the independence of genius. In a lucrative point of view, the situation is contemptible, so that in the opinion of good judges, the abolition of the office would be rather honourable than disgraceful to the dignity of the crown. some room for satire, since the appointment marked a change of principles in the laureate; and where that takes place, the resentment of party may always be expected. Robert Southey, the father of the poet, was a respectable linen draper in Wine-street, Bristol, where this son was born August 12, 1774. His education was very desultory, for after he had been some time in the boarding school of Mr. Foote, a Baptist minister, at Bristol, he was removed to another seminary, at Corston, near Bath, where he remained about two years, and was then taken home, to be privately instructed in the classics, by a clergyman, preparatory to his admission into Westminster School. Of his progress in learning, we are not told, but he wrote English verses when he was fourteen. At the age of eighteen he was entered a commoner of Baliol College, Oxford; but his stay there was short, for having imbibed revolutionary principles in politics, and Unitarianism, or something still more sceptical, in religion, he could neither look for a fellowship in the University, nor preferment in the Church. The change which had taken place in France turned his head, as it did that of many an older and more experienced politician, who, like Dr. Price, dreamed of nothing short of a millennium, and the restoration of the golden age. trammels of authority, began to entertain thoughts of turning legislator. I know not whether he had read Plato's Perfect Commonwealth, or Locke's Plan of a Constitution for Carolina, but so it was, that at this period he sketched the outline of a republic, of which the basis was to be a commu Fired with these brilliant ideas, Mr. Southey, at the age of nineteen, The time has long since gone by,when spurned the beaten track of academic the pensioned minstrel was neces-discipline, and scorning to pace in the sary to swell the pageantry of a court; and, therefore, it would well become an enlightened age to remove this badge of servility from literature, which, however suitable it might have been in the days of chivalry and feudalism, is unbecoming a state of intellectual freedom. This sentiment has been forcibly expressed by Gib-nity of property, and an equalization bon, and others; notwithstanding which, when Mr. Pye died in 1813, it was deemed advisable to continue the title, though the duties of the office were no longer required. The laurel, accordingly, was bestowed upon its present possessor, who has experienced, in consequence, the obloquy which ordinarily falls to the lot of those writers, who are so fortunate as to enjoy the royal bounty. In the present case, however, there was of rights, corresponding with the highsounding title of a Pantisocracy, which was the destined name of this modern Utopia. Having formed his scheme, it was necessary to procure associates to carry it into effect, and in this he found no difficulty; for the epidemy of political perfectibility was now raging to a height little short of madness, and every unfledged youth fancied himself qualified to play the part of Licurgus or Solon. But though Mr. Southey had the satisfaction of making five or six disciples, there were many formidable difficulties to be encountered, one of the principal of which was, the want of adequate means to purchase a settlement in the interior of America, as well as to convey his colonists to the land of promise. While the scheme was in agitation, he and two of his colleagues, Lovell and Coleridge, became acquainted with three sisters, of the name of Fricker, who were as young and romantic as their lovers; but the mother of the damsels being a little more sage, steadily opposed the transit to the new world, in consequence of which, love prevailed, and the Pantisocrasy was dissolved. The marriage of Mr. Southey occurred before he had reached his twenty-first year; and soon afterwards he went to Lisbon, where he had an unele, who was chaplain to the English factory. If his object in this voyage was to procure a settlement in Portugal, it failed, for be returned in about six months to Bristol, where he fixed his residence, and devoted himself to literary pursuits. He had before this published, in conjunction with his friend Lovell, under the names of Bion and Mosepus, a volume of miscellaneous poems, which had so good a reception, that in 1796, Mr. Southey ventured to bring out, what he called an Epic, in blank verse, on the history of Joan of Arc. The most remarkable thing about this ponderous work is, the period of its gestation, for the author in his preface told the world that the whole twelve books were written in six weeks. Fertility of conception, and rapidity of execution, are qualities which in some arts merit praise; but in the formation of an historic poem, we should rather study strength and correctness, than brilliancy, remembering that Horace says, "Carmen reprehendite, quod non Multa dies, at multa litura coërcuit, atque Præsectum decies non castigavit ad unguem." Neither the marriage, the opinions, nor the pursuits, of Mr. Southey, it seems, were agreeable to his relations, one of whom, a rich, old, unmarried uncle, died without leaving a shilling to him, or one of his family. On this occasion the nephew wrote the following verses, which are far enough from being affectionate or elegiac. So thou art gone at last, old John, I But they that follow will grieve no more before. With a light heart and a cheerful face And bespeak thee a marble monument, Who leaving none to deplore him, Because all he lov'd have died before him. The monk, too, hath a joyful end, And well may welcome death as a friend, When he piously crosses his hands on his breast, And a crucifix close to his heart is prest, And the brethren stand round him and sing him to rest, And tell him, as surely he thinks, that anon, Receiving his crown, he shall sit on his throne, And sing in the choir of the blest. Unlamented was thine end, Hadst thou a single friend. None to weep for thee on earth, None to greet thee in heaven's hall! Father and mother, sister and brother, Thy heart has been dead to them all! Alas! old man, that this should be! One brother had rais'd up seed to thee; And hadst thou in their hour of need Cherish'd that dead brother's seed, Thrown wide thy doors, and call'd them in, How happy thine old age had been. Thou wert a wither'd tree, around whose trunk, Needing support, our tendrils should have clung, Then had thy sapless boughs With buds of hope and genial leaves been hung, Yea, with undying wreathes, and flowers for ever young! With a view to perfect himself in the Spanish and Portuguese languages, Mr. Southey, at the beginning of 1800, made a second voyage to the Peninsula, accompanied by his wife; and on his return to England, the following year, he published an account of his travels, written in an epistolary form, and containing much curious information respecting the manners and literature of the countries which he had recently visited, and which were then beginning to assume an important character in the family of nations. About this time our author joined Mr. now Sir Humphrey Davy, and a few other young men of genius, in printing two volumes of an English Anthology; and, in the same year, our author produced his eccentric poem, entitled "Thalaba, or the Destroyer;" which astonishes the reader by its wonderful machinery, and fatigues him by its excursive flights beyond the limits of probability, so that one is disposed, after taking breath on laying it down, to say as the Cardinal did to Ariosto, "Dove Diavolo, messer Ludovico arete pigliato tante coglionerie? | Pray, master poet, where the deuce did you pick up all these extravagancies?" This work was followed by a volume of miscellaneous poems, to which another collection was afterwards added, and both met with a favourable reception from the public, as they well deserved. The literary labours of the indefatigable author were now suspended for a short time, by his acceptance of the office of Secretary to Mr. Isaac Correy, the Irish Chancellor of the Exchequer. In a few months, however, he relinquished this situation, and obtained a pension. Mr. Southey now took a house at Keswick, in Cumberland, previous to which he published a Life of Chatterton, with an edition of his works, for the benefit of the sister of that extraordinary youth. This was in 1803, and the same year appeared a translation of Amadis de Gaul," that old Spanish romance, which the curate who purged Don Quixote's library spared, because, as he said, it was the first of the kind, and the best. In this work Mr. Southey has very judiciously given to his style an air of antiquity, suited to the nature of the narrative, and thereby rendered it far more 46 agreeable than it would have been, had he clothed it in a modern dress. The next publication of our author was a poem in blank verse, founded on the legendary tale of the discovery of America, in the twelfth century, by the Welsh Prince Madoc. In this performance, the reader is amused with the adventures of Cortes and Columbus carried back three centurics, and transferred to a fabulous hero, who makes a voyage across the Atlantic without the aid of the compass. The story of Madoc is as intolerable for its length, as it is uninteresting in its circumstances: the characters are feebly drawn, and badly discriminated; the language is alternately pompous and puerile; and metrical harmony is racked throughout. The volume, in its original state, is swelled out and encumbered by an immense number of notes, of many of which we apprehend the author is now heartily ashamed. Two years after the appearance of Madoc, a work came out in three volumes, which, though anonymous, was universally ascribed to Mr. Southey, and as he never disavowed it, there can be no doubt that the public voice was right in its decision. Under the assumed name of Don Manuel Alvarez Espirella, the author took upon him to give a description of the moral and political state of England, which, according to the views of this pseudo Spaniard, was bad enough in every respect; for he says, among other things, that "to talk of English happiness is like talking of Spartan freedom; the Helots are overlooked. In no other country can such riches be acquired by commerce, but it is the one who grows rich by the labour of the hundred. The hundred human beings like himself, as wonderfully fashioned by nature, gifted with the like capacities, and equally made for immortality, are sacrificed body and soul!" There are still more disparaging calumnies than this scattered throughout these three volumes, in all of which our pretended Spanish nobleman, who is supposed to reside in England only a few weeks, speaks as familiarly of our customs, and people, and literature, as if he had resided in the capital all his life. We suspect that this is not one of the productions upon which the author, at present reflects with much complacency. This year Mr. Southey published a translation from the Portuguese of Francis de Morues, of the old romance, called "The Palmerin of England;" and about the same time he appeared to advantage as the biographer of that premature genius, Henry Kirke White. As a compiler, however, he gained little credit by his " Specimens of the later English Poets;" selected with so little judgment, that in a number of instances the worst passages have been chosen in preference to the best, which method of extracting beauties had at least the merit of originality, though it is not likely to be imitated. well calculated to give his powers full play, of which he gave a favourable specimen in his Carmen Triumphale," or the downfall of Buonaparte, the restoration of the Bourbons, and the arrival of the Allied Sovereigns in England. This poem was followed by one drawn from the Spanish history, entitled, "Don Roderick, the last of the Goths;" a tale well told, and agreeably diversified, though too long in itself, and heavily encumbered with notes. The next production of Mr. Southey's muse was an Epithalamium, with the title "Carmen Nuptiale," on the espousals of the lamented Princess Charlotte. This, and the triumphal song already noticed, remind us of the "Astræa Redux" of Dryden, who, at the Restoration, hoped to efface, by the fervour of his loyalty, all memory of his former misdoings. The adversaries of Mr. Southey, however, like those of his great predecessor, took care that the sins of his youth should not be forgotten; and having laid hold of a drama, written by him at the age of nineteen, on the Dr. Aikin having about this time relinquished the Monthly Magazine, and instituted another miscellany of a more literary character, called "The Athenæum," obtained for it the assistance of Mr. Southey, who, among other contributions, furnished, under the title of Omniana, a series of notes, remarks, and anecdotes, from his common-place book. These were afterwards collected and published in two small volumes. In 1808, appear-story of Wat Tyler's insurrection, they ed the "Chronicle of the Cid Rodrigo Diaz de Biour;" taken from different Spanish histories, poems, and romances; this work is prefaced by a luminous view of the rise and progress of Mohammedanism, and of its particular state in Spain at the period when the hero of the tale made so conspicuous a figure against the Moors. This well-timed publication was followed by the first volume of the "History of Brasil;" drawn from authentic sources of information, and written in a style of chaste simplicity. Of a different description was our author's next performance, entitled, The Curse of Kehama," a poem so abstruse and disjointed, that the very title may be considered as a sentence upon the reader's patience. This strange production was succeeded by a popular Life of Lord Nelson,' abridged, without acknowledgment, from the two ponderous volumes of Clarke and Mac Arthur. 66 Soon after the appearance of this piece of biography, the author was appointed Poet Laureate, from which period a striking alteration was observable in the political character of his publications. His first performance in the capacity of royal minstrel was printed it, in defiance of every principle of honour and honesty. In this dilemma, the author was advised to claim the piece, and move for an injunction in the Court of Chancery; but here his evil stars prevailed, for the application met with a denial, on the ground that the poem being seditious and dangerous, could not be legally protected. The decision was just, and yet the case of the author was hard; but it became more so by subjecting him to a violent attack in parliament, where one member actually recommended a state prosecution. Upon this Mr. Southey published “A Letter to Wm. Smith, Esq. at Nor wich;" and it must be allowed that the defence is able and spirited, though the writer would have done better if he had abandoned his juvenile poem altogether, instead of endeavouring to clear it from the charge of being seditious, while he admitted it to have a mischievous tendency. This is an unaccountable distinction, for the mischief such a piece was calculated to produce, lay wholly in its inflammatory principles. It is just, however, to hear what Mr. Southey says for the change in his political sentiments, and as far as concerns |