r perceptive poetry, has been usually employed either to illustrate and explain our moral duties, our philosophical inquiries, our bufines and pleasures; or in teaching the art of criticism or poetry itself. It may be adapted, however, to any other subject; and may in all cases, where instruction is designed, be employed to good purpose. Some subjects, indeed, are more proper than others, as they admit of more poetical ornaments, and give a greater latitude to genius: but whatever the subject is, those precepts are to be laid down that are the most useful; and they should follow each other in a natural easy method, and be delivered in the most agreeable engaging manner. What the prose writer tells you ought to be done, the poet often conveys under the form of a narration, or shows the necessity of it in a description; and by representing the action as done, or doing, conceals the precept that should enforce it. The poet likewise, instead of telling the whole truth, or laying down all the rules that are requisite, selects such parts only as are the most pleasing, and communicates the rest indirectly, without giving us an open view of them; yet takes care that nothing shall escape the reader's notice with which he ought to be acquainted. He discloses just enough to lead the imagination into the parts that are concealed; and the mind, ever gratified with its own discoveries, is complimented with exploring and finding them out; which, though done with ease, seems so considerable, as not to be obtained but in consequence of its own adroitness and sagacity.

But this is not sufficient to render didactic poetry always pleasing: for where precepts are laid down one after another, and the poem is of considerable length, the mind will require some recreation and refreshment by the way; which is to be procured by feasible moral reflections, pertinent remarks, familiar families, and descriptions naturally introduced, by allusions to ancient histories or fables, and by short and pleasant digressions and excursions into more noble subjects, so aptly brought in, that they may seem to have a remote relation, and be of a piece with the poem. By thus varying the form of instruction, the poet gives life to his precepts, and awakens and secures our attention, without permitting us to see by what means we are thus captivated: and his art is the more to be admired, because it is so concealed as to escape the reader's observation.

The style, too, must maintain a dignity suitable to the subject, and every part be drawn in such lively colours, that the things described may seem as if presented to the reader's view.

But all this will appear more evident from example; and though entire poems of this kind are not within the compass of our design, we shall endeavour to select such passages as will be sufficient to illustrate the rules we have here laid down.

We have already observed, that, according to the usual divisions, there are four kinds of didactic poems, viz. those that respect our moral duties, our philosophical speculations, our bufines and pleasures, or that give precepts for poetry and criticism.

I. On the first subject, indeed, we have scarce anything that deserves the name of poetry, except Mr Pope's Essay on Man, his Ethic Epistle, Blackmore's Creation, and part of Young's Night Thoughts; to which therefore we refer as examples.

II. Those preceptive poems that concern philosophical speculations, though the subject is so pregnant with matter, affords such a field of fancy, and is so capable of every decoration, are but few. Lucretius is the most considerable among the ancients who has written in this manner; among the moderns we have little else but small detached pieces, except the poem called Anti-Lucretius, which has not yet received an English dress; Dr Akenfield's Pleasures of the Imagination, and Dr Darwin's Botanic Garden; which are all worthy of our admiration. Some of the small pieces in this department are also well executed; and there is one entitled the Universe, written by Mr Baker, from which we shall borrow an example.

The author's scheme is in some measure coincident with Mr Pope's, so far especially as it tends to restrain the pride of man, with which design it was professedly written.

The passage we have selected is that respecting the planetary system.

Unwise! and thoughtless! impotent! and blind! Can wealth, or grandeur, satisfy the mind? Of all those pleasures mortals most admire, Is there one joy sincere, that will not tire? Can love itself endure? or beauty's charms Afford that bliss we fancy in its arms? Then let thy soul more glorious aims pursue: Have thy Creator and his works in view. Be thee thy study: hence thy pleasures bring: And drink large draughts of wisdom from its spring; That spring, whence perfect joy, and calm repose, And blest content, and peace eternal, flows.

Observe how regular the planets run, In stated times, their courses round the Sun. Diff'rent their bulk, their distance, their career, And diff'rent much the compass of their year: Yet all the same eternal laws obey, While God's unerring finger points the way. First Mercury, amidst full tides of light, Rolls next the sun, through his small circle bright. All that dwell here must be refin'd and pure: Bodies like ours such ardour can't endure: Our earth would blaze beneath so fierce a ray, And all its marble mountains melt away.

Fair Venus, next, fulfils her larger round, With softer beams, and milder glory crown'd. Friend to mankind, she glitters from afar, Now the bright ev'ning, now the morning star.

More distant still, our earth comes rolling on, And forms a wider circle round the sun: With her the moon, companion ever dear! Her course attending through the shining year.

See, Mars, alone, runs his appointed race, And measures out, exact, the destin'd space: Nor nearer does he wind, nor farther stray, But finds the point whence first he roll'd away.

More yet remote from day's all cheering source, Vast Jupiter performs his constant course: Four friendly moons, with borrow'd lustre, rise, Below their beams divine, and light his skies.

Farthest and last, scarce warm'd by Phœbus' ray, Through his vast orbit Saturn wheels away. How great the change could we wist there! How slow the seasons! and how long the year!

One moon, on us, reflects its cheerful light: There, five attendants brighten up the night. Here, the blue firmament bedeck'd with stars; There, over-head, a lucid arch appears.

From hence, how large, how strong, the sun's bright ball! But seen from thence, how languid and how small! When the keen north with all its fury blows, Congeals the floods, and forms the fleecy snows, 'Tis heat intense to what can there be known: Warmer our poles than is its burning zone.

Who there inhabits must have other pow'rs, Juices, and veins, and fenfe, and life, than ours. One moment's cold, like theirs, would pierce the bone, Freeze the heart-blood, and turn us all to stone.

Strange and amazing must the diff'rence be 'Twixt this dull planet and bright Mercury: Yet reason says, nor can we doubt at all, Millions of beings dwell on either ball, With constitutions fitted for the spot, Where Providence, all wise, has fix'd their lot.

Wondrous art thou, O God, in all thy ways! Their eyes to thee let all thy creatures raise; Adore thy grandeur, and thy goodness praise. Ye sons of men! with satisfaction know, God's own right hand dispenses all below: Nor good nor evil does by chance befall; He reigns supreme, and he directs it all.

At his command, affrighting human-kind,