g a high compliment to his general poetry, thus concludes his
generous tribute:

Whence is that groan? no more Britannia sleeps,
But o'er her lov'd Musaeus bends and weeps.
Lo, every Grecian, every British muse
Scatter the recent flowers and gracious dews
Where MASON lies!
And in his breast each soft affection dwelt,
That love and friendship know; each sister art,
With all that colours, and that sounds impart,
All that the sylvan theatre can grace,
All in the soul of MASON found their place!
Low sinks the laurell'd head: in Mona's land
I see them pass, 'tis Mador's drooping band,
To harps of woe, in holiest obsequies,
In yonder grave, they chant, our Druid lies!

ERASMUS DARWIN. In the life of this justly celebrated physician, by Miss
Seward, she informs us, that in the year 1770, he sat to Mr. Wright of
Derby; and that it was "a contemplative portrait, of the most perfect
resemblance." Whether it has been engraved I know not. He was then in
his thirty-eighth year. Dr. Thornton, in his superb work on botany, has
given a fine portrait of Dr. Darwin, at a more advanced period of his
life. It breathes intelligence in every feature, and is a masterly
likeness. The late Mr. Archdeacon Clive preserved a highly-finished
miniature portrait of him, which was ordered by Dr. Darwin for the
express purpose of being presented to this worthy clergyman, whom he so
much esteemed.[91]

Dr. Darwin published,

1. Zoonomia, or the Laws of Organic Life.

2. Phytologia, or the Philosophy of Agriculture and Gardening, 4to.
1800. "A vast field of treasured observation and scientific literature."

3. The Botanic Garden.

Lord Byron, and others, have been severe on this poem. The lines,
however, on the soldier's wife and infants, after watching the battle of
Minden--those animated ones to Mr. Howard--or when the mother, during
the plague in London, commits her children to the grave,

_When o'er the friendless bier no rites were read,
No dirge slow chanted, and no pall outspread;_

these make one gladly acknowledge, that pathetic powers were the gift of
Darwin's muse. The sublimity of the following address to our _first_
daring aeronaut, merits insertion:

--Rise, great Mongolfier! urge thy venturous flight
High o'er the moon's pale, ice-reflected light;
High o'er the pearly star, whose beamy horn
Hangs in the east, gay harbinger of morn;
Leave the red eye of Mars on