of man roaming the forests of the tropics, or climbing the cliffs of the lonely Hebrides; to notice in this brief article those bursts of eloquent fire, in which he calls to godlike deeds--those of mercy and of goodness. In this respect, as well as in that of mere poetical beauty, his poem of the Castle of Indolence is pre-eminent. Thomson suffered from the seductions of the vile wizard of Indolence, and in his first canto he paints most effectively the horrors of that vice; in the second canto he shows that, though he had fallen into the net of sloth, it had not entirely conquered, and it could not corrupt him. He calls with the energy of a martyr on his fellow-men to assume the privileges and glories of men. The Castle of Indolence is as felicitous in its versification as in its sentiments; it is full of harmony, and the spirit of picturesque beauty pervades every line; there is a manliness of sentiment about it that is worthy of true genius. Such a stanza as this is the seed of independence to the minds of thousands: "I care not, Fortune! what you me deny: You can not rob me of free Nature's grace; You can not shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her bright'ning face; You can not bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living streams, at eve; Let health my nerves and finer fibers brace, And I their toys to the great children leave: Of fancy, reason, virtue, naught can me bereave." The address of the bard of active virtue is worthy of being listened to in every age: "Ye hapless race! Dire laboring here to smother Reason's ray, That lights our Maker's image in our face, And gives us wide o'er earth unquestioned sway: What is the adored Supreme Perfection, say? What but eternal, never-resting soul, Almighty power, and all-directing day; By whom each atom stirs, the planets roll: Who fills, surrounds, informs, and agitates the whole. "Come, to the beaming God your hearts unfold! Draw from its fountain life! 'Tis thence alone We can excel. Up from unfeeling mold To seraphs burning round the ALMIGHTY's throne, Life rising still on life, in brighter tone, Perfection forms, and with perfection bliss. In universal nature this clear shown Not needeth proof; to prove it were, I wis, To prove the beauteous world excels the brute abyss.