The specimen of the poem on the “Progress of Man,” with which we favoured our Readers in our last Number, has occasioned a variety of letters, which we confess have not a little surprised us, from the unfounded, and even contradictory charges they contain. In one, we are accused of Malevolence, in bringing back to notice a work that had been quietly consigned to oblivion;—in another, of Plagiarism, in copying its most beautiful passages;—in a third, of Vanity, in striving to imitate what was in itself inimitable, &c., &c. But why this alarm? has the author of the “_Progress of Civil Society_” an exclusive patent for fabricating _Didactic_ poems? or can we not write against Order and Government without incurring the guilt of Imitation? We trust we were not so ignorant of the nature of a didactic poem (so called from _didaskein_, to teach, and _poema_, a poem; because it teaches nothing, and is not poetical) even before the _“Progress of Civil Society”_ appeared, but that we were capable of such an undertaking. We shall only say further, that we do not intend to proceed regularly with our Poem; but having the remaining thirty-nine Cantos by us, shall content ourselves with giving, from time to time, such extracts as may happen to suit our purpose. The following passage, which, as the reader will see by turning to the Contents prefixed to the head of the Poem, is part of the First Canto, contains so happy a deduction of MAN’S present state of Depravity, from the first slips and failings of his Original State, and inculcates so forcibly the mischievous consequences of _social_ or _civilized_, as opposed to _natural_ society, that no dread of imputed imitation can prevent us from giving it to our readers. PROGRESS OF MAN. Lo! the rude savage, free from civil strife,[139] Keeps the smooth tenour of his guiltless life; Restrain’d by none, save Nature’s lenient laws, Quaffs the clear stream, and feeds on hips and haws. Light to his daily sports behold him rise! 65 The bloodless banquet health and strength supplies.[140] Bloodless not long—one morn he haps to stray[141] Through the lone wood—and close beside the way Sees the gaunt tiger tear his trembling prey; Beneath whose gory fangs a leveret bleeds, 70 Or pig—such pig as fertile China breeds.[142] Struck with the sight, the wondering savage stands, Rolls his broad eyes, and clasps his lifted hands! Then restless roams—and loaths his wonted food; Shuns the salubrious stream, and thirsts for blood. 75