In this line of science he was pre-eminently accomplished, not only in the opinion of his countrymen, but of all Europe. He was of a truly manly mind and character, and but little regarded the occasional opposition to his opinions, though urged with all the force of aristocratical influence, and all the vehemence of personal dislike. He pursued the even tenor of his way unintimidated and unshaken. One inconsiderate disregard of some established regulation, by which he could have no possible object in view, but the extension and benefit of science, placed him for a time in an awkward and unpleasant predicament. When envy is armed with power, woe be to the ill-fated wight against whom its arrows are directed. Yet in this instance they were aimed in vain. The sevenfold shield of superior attainments, wielded by the strong arm of unimpeached integrity, proudly defied all the malice of his adversaries. It is, indeed, observes the writer, pleasing to remember the dignified contempt, with which he received and returned certain salutations of constrained civility from a lofty personage, to whom he was confessedly superior in every thing but rank. Although not a few memoranda still remain on the subject of poetical contemporaries, it seems time to pause. Let it suffice to observe that the following personages are mentioned in terms of esteem and regard, and as authors of various elegant compositions in verse—Sotheby, the Translator of Persius, Bowles, Park, Farhill, John Anstey, Serjeant, Sir James Burges, W. Spencer, Kett, with a train of etceteras. The following, by one of those above described, may, perhaps have been printed before. Its elegance merits perpetuity, and is here given from the Author’s own manuscript. LIMODORUM. Sweet flow’r, whose modest beauties blow Deep in the green and silent vale, Where willows, bending o’er the stream, Wave gently to the passing gale! So, in thy native Sina’s shades Like thee sequester’d and serene, Soft smiling sit her pensive maids, Pleas’d with the solitary scene. There, listening to some magic tale Of fabled bliss, or fancied woe, They deck with art the silken veil, Or tend the flowers that round them blow. From moss-clad rocks and tangled shades The murmuring waters roll around; Sweep thro’ the garden’s green arcades, And shine along the varied ground. On waving boughs the plumy race Sweet carol from the blossom’d spray; While, glittering in each pictur’d vase, The golden-scaled beauties play. Domestic cares and duteous love In turn their tender thoughts employ; And form within their green alcove A happiness that cannot cloy. Και λεγει ως υπο φιλοτιμιας πολλους των απο παιδειας συνα θροιζων ου μονον τοις αλλοις αλλα και λογοις ειστια, τα μεν προβαλλων των αξιων ζητησεως. CHAPTER XXXVIII.