The necessary orders having been given for his funeral (the expences of which were defrayed by those distinguished persons who had so frequently administered to his wants while living), on the day appointed, his body, attended by Mr. Allingham and the author, with a few friends of the latter, was conveyed to the church of Lewisham : where, previously to its being consigned to its native earth, the funeral service, that last solemn awe-inspiring ceremony, was read with much dignity and fervour by the honourable and reverend Mr. Legge (the present dean of Windsor); who afterwards attended the body to a grave formed on a spot the most solitary and romantic that fancy could describe. Over his tomb, at the expence of his generous friends, the author has been enabled to erect a monument to his memory, with the following inscription: extracted from a poem written by the poet, entitled "The Fate of Genius."

"No titled birth had he to boast:
Son of the desert; Fortune's child;
Yet, not by frowning Fortune cross'd,
The muses on his cradle smil❜d.

"He joy'd to con the fabling page
Of prowess'd chiefs, and deeds sublime;
And e'en essay'd in infant

age,

Fond task! to weave the wizard rhime.

"And though fell passion sway'd his soul,
By Prudence seldom ever won,
Beyond the bounds of her control,
He was dear Fancy's favour'd son.

"Now a cold tenant does he lie

Of this dark cell, all hush'd his song:
While Friendship bends with streaming eye,
As by his grave she wends along;

On his cold clay lets fall a holy tear,

6

And cries, Though mute, there is a poet here.'”

The character of this extraordinary youth has been so clearly developed in his actions and his writings, that scarcely any thing is left now to be related of his acquirements

and general habits, that has not in some degree been already said in his history. Yet as there are shades of character, and degrees of passion, which do not prominently shew themselves in particular instances of conduct, the author is induced to add the following particulars, gathered from a long intimacy, a thorough knowledge of his disposition, and a close observance of the distinguishable propensities which degraded his genius, and retarded his progress to happiness and independance. He was of a middle stature, well formed, and of a spare habit of body; he had a comprehensive forehead, full dark eyes, strongly marked eye-brows, and a countenance expressive of genius, but tinged with reflection and melancholy. He was ungraceful in his deportment, slovenly in his person, diffident in his address, and reserved in his conversation; he had a simplicity and a modesty in his manner that created esteem and even respect when irritated, he was

rather sullen than passionate: yet quick and inconsiderate in his resentment, sacrificing his interest to the impulse of imagined wrongs, and the attachment of his best friends on the slightest grounds of ideal offence. His poetical powers may be said to have been intuitive, for some of his best pieces were composed before he had reached twelve years of age; at which period he united in the full vigour of manhood, the strongest judgment and most unbounded fancy. His language, when he could be drawn into argument (which was always a hard task), was nervous, polished, and fluent. His classical knowledge (which was indeed wonderful, and is on every proper occasion displayed in his writings), added to a memory uncommonly powerful and comprehensive, furnished him with allusions that were appropriate, combinations that were pleasing, and sentiments that were dignified.

He had an inquisitive mind, but could

never resist the temptations which offered to seduce him from his studies. He was

easily persuaded to forsake propriety: and paid as little regard to the character of his associates, as he did to the rules of prudence, the dictates of reason, or the opinion of the world; which last he at all times set at defiance. No one ever wrote with greater facility; his mind was stored with such a fund of observation, such an accumulation of knowledge gathered from science and from nature, that his thoughts, when wanted, rushed upon him like a torrent, and he could compose with the rapidity with which another could transcribe. On every occasion he discovers a clear judgment, a fancy filled with the richest ideas, and an intellect capable of delineating the grandest objects. He knew all the various shades of character; and a close observation of the world enabled him to describe the changes of human manners, and the involution of passions, with an