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Of this epitaph it may be observed, that Boston, and not Lexington, was the natal soil of Dennie. In depicting the character of the individual, it may be added, that the partiality of friendship has rather freely employed the license of lapidary inscription.

The history of Mr. Dennie's literary career, if more minutely written, would show, that although he sometimes entertained great designs, he accomplished very little. He wrote a small volume of essays under the title of "THE LAY PREACHER,” which excited attention by the novelty of their manner. But while they fascinated the multitude, more serious readers were displeased by their occasional levities, which came with an ill grace from a writer who professed an unbounded reverence for the Scriptures.

Another series of lucubrations, entitled "THE FARRAGO," was projected, but that, perhaps, did not extend beyond a dozen numbers. His editorial paragraphs may close this brief catalogue. These indicate a lively fancy, familiarity with the best English and French writers, and such an acquaintance with the Latin authors as is formed at college and preserved by occasional reference. Dennie never thought for himself. Breathing nothing but independence, he was a slave to authority, and hence he indulged himself in the use of quotations to a degree of pro

digality which was sometimes wearisome and often ridiculous.

His pleasing manners and lively conversation will not soon be forgotten by his associates: but the spritely sallies of his pen, however they may have amused the giddy and the gay, are of too fleeting a character for durable fame. His biographer therefore labours under the disadvantage of having undertaken to depict the life of an author of high reputation, who has left little to sustain that character.

The limits of this volume must confine my selections from his writings to a few specimens, and I have preferred those which are characteristic and not so generally known as the speculations of " The Lay Preacher."

WOMAN.

Quid levius pluma? pulvus; quid pulvere? ventus;

Quid vento? mulier; quid muliere? nihil.

TRANSLATED.

What is lighter than feathers? dust: than dust?

the wind;

Than wind? a woman; but than her we naught

can find.

SEDLEY.

CHARACTER OF MEANDER.

DENNIE.

"One of those close students, who read plays for their improvement in law."

TATTLER.

EVERY grave author, who apothegmatizes for the advancement of learning, vehemently insists on the propriety of superadding application to genius. Much has been written to expose the inefficacy of desultory studies, to lash the absurdity of procrastination, and to journalize the wanderings of the mind. But, deaf to the warning voice, there still exists a class of students, respectable for talents and taste, who, whenever Fickleness waves her wand, fly mercurially from a stated task, glance on many subjects, and improve none. Their judgment, pronouncing sentence against themselves, acknowledges the utility of fixation of thought, and marks, with mathematical precision, the point on which attention should rest; but their wayward imagination is eternally making curves. These literary, like other hypochondriacs, have their lucid intervals; and, at times, are fully apprized of the flitting nature of their application. They write

many a penitential annotation upon the chapter of their conduct, and frame many a goodly plan to be executed-to-morrow. The paroxysm soon returns, and every shackle which sturdy resolution has imposed, their ingenious indolence will undo.

It is unpleasant to see those whom nature and fortune have conspired to befriend, unqualified to gain the eminence of distinction by a habit of turning out of the path. With this censurable volatility are commonly united brilliant talents, a feeling heart, and a social temper. If their possessors would even occasionally adopt and practice those plodding precepts which dissipation prompts them to deride, they would discharge with applause every honourable duty of business and of life. But instead of turning the meanders of fancy into a regular channel, they are perpetually roaming, in quest of pleasure. They employ morning moments, not over learned tomes, but at ladies' toilets. After a night of revelry, amid the votaries of wine and loo, they will tell you of Charles Fox, who, like a man of spunk, at Brookes's, gambles, and drinks all night, and, like a man of genius, harangues in the house all day. They talk of their privileges; and swear, by the tails of the comets, which are the greatest ramblers in the universe, that they will be eccentric. The stile of their legislation is, " Be it enacted, by Fancy

and her favourites, that, whenever Genius chooses to cut capers, they be, and hereby are, allowable."

As I have a cordial aversion to the abstract modes of speculation, and choose, with Dr. Johnson, to embody opinions, I proceed to illustrate by two examples; one from the annals of literature, and one from real life.

The poet Shenstone was an officer of distinguished rank, in the regiment of careless bards. Every reader of his works will acknowledge, that they bear," the image and superscription" of genius. But, still, he was an indolent, uneconomical, volatile character; who, lolling in the bowers of the Leasowes, wrote pastorals, and the School Mistress, when by a more vigorous exertion of his talents he might, perhaps, have eloquently charmed the coifed sergeants of Westminster-hall, or dictated new maxims of polity to an applauding House of Commons.

At the very moment he was wasting his time and his patrimony, in the erection of rural altars to Pan and the Dryads, he wrote "Economy," a poem, in which he chants the praise of the cittish virtues, and gravely advises his friends to devote at least a rainy day to worldly prudence. In this production are some thoughts suggested, one may venture to affirm, by Shenstone's experience, pertinent to the subject of this essay. The tolerating reader will K

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