The individual next in succession was, and perhaps is, (for he may yet survive) a man of unquestionable genius; capable of high undertakings, both in prose and verse; but it is only with his qualifications and claims as a poet, that we have anything here to do. Strange to say, but such is the perverseness of human nature, that the wisest among us, are sometimes apt to mistake our talents, and to plume ourselves most, upon those qualities, from the exercise of which, in the opinions of the more discerning and judicious, we are least entitled to applause. This remark is in some degree applicable to our present subject. The person to whom the attention of the reader is now invited, had certainly, when very young, a great taste and talent for poetical composition, and produced, almost before manhood, a poem which obtained the strong commendations of Dr. Johnson. This valuable praise, added to the delight which every youthful poet feels from the exercise of so agreeable an accomplishment, induced him probably to persevere in this particular pursuit. Nevertheless, his talents of this kind, however exercised, cultivated, and improved, would never have placed him in the first rank of British poets; whereas, by study and by discipline, he might have rivalled the best of our historians. This was manifestly proved by the execution of a work which will outlive all his poetry. A subject was proposed to him, by a great and accomplished character, long since no more, with which he was not in the smallest degree acquainted, except as a man of general information. It presented itself to him, clouded and perplexed with obscurity and difficulty; but he sat sturdily to work, and produced at intervals an historical performance of several volumes, which, as it richly deserved, was exceedingly well received by his countrymen. When once the subject had occupied his mind, and fixed his studious attention, it is really wonderful with what sagacity, acuteness, and effect, he pursued it in all its ramifications. Nothing relating to it was unexplored, and the result of the whole will perpetuate his name. Yet would it have excited no surprize in him who made the above observations, to have been told, that his old friend, (and we may add one of his oldest) was by no means satisfied with the above determination with regard to his literary claims. The appellation of poet, first given him among his school-fellows, was dear, as it was familiar from his boyhood. It grew with his growth. It was universally bestowed upon him through the progress of life, as an acknowledged Prænomen, and it is more than probable that he considered it at least of equal value, with any other which could possibly have been conferred, from his most successful prosecution of any different branch of literature. Subjoined to the above observations is the following apostrophe:—