ances, or had ever elevated his views to that ideal perfection which every genius born to excel is condemned always to pursue, and never overtake. In the firft fuggestions of his imagination he acquiefced; he thought them good, and did not feek for better.

The poem on Creation has, however, the appearance of more circumfpection; it wants neither harmony of numbers, accuracy of thought, nor elegance of diction: it has either been written with great care, or, what cannot be imagined of fo long a work, with fuch felicity as made care less neceffary.

Its two conftituent parts are ratiocination and description. To reafon in verfe, is allowed to be difficult; but Blackmore not only reasons in verse, but very often reafons poetically; and finds the art of uniting ornament with ftrength, and ease with clofeness. This is a fkill which Pope might have con defcended to learn from him, when he needed it so much in his Moral Effays.

In his descriptions, both of life and nature, the poet and the philofopher happily co-ope

rate;

rate; truth is recommended by elegance, and elegance fuftained by truth.

In the ftructure and order of the poem, not only the greater parts are properly confecutive, but the didactick and illuftrative paragraphs are so happily mingled, that labour is relieved by pleasure, and the attention is led on through a long fucceffion of varied excellence to the original position, the funda mental principle of wisdom and of virtue.

AS the heroick poems of Blackmore are now little read, it is thought proper to infert, as a specimen from Prince Arthur, the fong of Mopas mentioned by Molineux.

But that which Arthur with most pleasure heard,

Were noble ftrains, by Mopas fung the bard,
Who to his harp in lofty verfe began,

And through the secret maze of Nature ran.
He the great Spirit fung, that all things fill'd,
That the tumultuous waves of Chaos ftill'd;
Whofe nod difpos'd the jarring feeds to peace,
And made the wars of hoftile Atoms cease.
All Beings we in fruitful Nature find,
Proceeded from the great Eternal Mind;
Streams of his unexhausted spring of power,
And cherish'd with his influence, endure.
He spread the pure cerulean fields on high,
And arch'd the chambers of the vaulted sky,
Which he, to fuit their glory with their height,
Adorn'd with globes, that reel, as drunk with
light.

His hand directed all the tuneful fpheres,

He turn'd their orbs, and polish'd all the stars. He fill'd the Sun's vaft lamp with golden light, And bid the filver Moon adorn the night.

He

He spread the airy Ocean without shores,
Where birds are wafted with their feather'd oars.
Then fung the bard how the light vapours rise
From the warm earth, and cloud the fmiling fkies.
He fung how fome, chill'd in their airy flight,
Fall fcatter'd down in pearly dew by night.
How fome, rais'd higher, fit in fecret steams
On the reflected points of bounding beams;
Till, chill'd with cold, they fhade th' etherial plain,
Then on the thirfty earth defcend in rain.
How fome, whofe parts a flight contexture fhow,
Sink hovering through the air, in fleecy fnow.
How part is fpun in filken threads, and clings
Entangled in the grafs in glewy ftrings.
How others ftamp to ftones, with rushing found
Fall from their crystal quarries to the ground.
How fome are laid in trains, that kindled fly
In harmless fires by night, about the sky.
How fome in winds blow with impetuous force,
And carry ruin where they bend their courfe:
While fome confpire to form a gentle breeze,
To fan the air, and play among the trees.
How fome, enrag'd, grow turbulent and loud,
Pent in the bowels of a frowning cloud;
That cracks, as if the axis of the world

Was broke, and heaven's bright towers were downwards hurl'd.no

He fung how earth's wide ball, at Jove's command, Did in the midst on airy columns ftand.

And how the foul of plants, in prison held, And bound with fluggish fetters, lies conceal'd,

Till

Till with the Spring's warm beams, almoft releaft From the dull weight, with which it lay oppreft, Its vigour spreads, and makes the teeming earth Heave up, and labour with the sprouting birth: The active spirit freedom feeks in vain,

It only works and twifts a stronger chain.
Urging its prifon's fides to break a way,
It makes that wider, where 'tis forc'd to stay :
Till, having form'd its living house, it rears
Its head, and in a tender plant appears.
Hence fprings the oak, the beauty of the grove,
Whose stately trunk fierce storms can scarcely move.
Hence grows the cedar, hence the fwelling vine
Does round the elm its purple clusters twine.
Hence painted flowers the fmiling gardens blefs,
Both with their fragrant fcent and gaudy drefs.
Hence the white lily in full beauty grows,
Hence the blue violet, and blushing rose.
He fung how fun-beams brood upon the earth;
And in the glebe hatch fuch a numerous birth ;
Which way the genial warmth in Summer ftorms
Turns putrid vapours to a bed of worms;
How rain, transform'd by this prolifick power,
Falls from the clouds an animated fhower.

He fung the embryo's growth within the womb,

And how the parts their various fhapes affume. With what rare art the wondrous structure's

From one crude mafs to fuch perfection brought; That no part useless, none mifplac'd we fee,

None are forgot, and more would monftrous be."