"Jerusalem" of Tasso, and had proceeded as far as the fourth book; but it is said, that he was invited to quit this task, that he might write a tragedy in the cause of Freedom, which should inspirit the people of England. Glover, it was pretended, was the epic champion of Liberty, who had pointed her spear at Walpole; and Brooke was now to turn the arm of tragedy against him, by describing a tyrannic minister, in his play of " Gustavus Vasa." With regard to Glover, this was certainly untrue. His poetry breathed the spirit of liberty, but he was above the wretched taste of making a venerable antique subject the channel of grotesque allusion to modern parties, or living characters. If Brooke's Trollio was really meant for Walpole, the minister's friends need not have been much alarmed, at the genius of a tragic poet, who could descend to double meanings. They might have felt secure, one would think, that the artifice of poets could not raise any dangerous zeal in Englishmen, against their malt or excise bills, by the most cunning hints about Thermopyla or Dalecarlia. But, as if they had been in collusion with Brooke, to identify Walpole with Trollio, they interdicted the representation of the play. The author, therefore, published it, and got a thousand pounds by the sale.

He lived, for some time, very comfortably on this acquisition, at Twickenham, in the neighbourhood of Pope, till the state of his health obliged him to seek the benefit of his native air; when, to the surprise

of those who knew him, he determined to remain in Ireland. This resolution was owing to the influence of his wife, who apprehended that his political zeal, among his English friends, might lead him to some intemperate publication. Brooke, however, had too much of the politician to lose it by returning to his native soil. In the year of the rebellion, he addressed his "Farmer's Letters" to his countrymen, and they were supposed to have had a beneficial influence on their temper, at a critical period. He was also, to his honour, one of the earliest advocates for alleviating the penal laws against the catholics. Their pacific behaviour, in 1745, had certainly furnished him with a powerful argument in their behalf.

He wrote thirteen dramatic pieces, of which "Gustavus Vasa," and the " Earl of Essex," were the only two that ever reached the English stage. The rest were not heard of in England, till his collected works were published in 1778; but his novel, "The Fool of Quality," gave some popularity to his name. In Ireland, Lord Chesterfield gave him the appointment of a barrack-master, which he held till his death. The accounts of his private circumstances, in that kingdom, are given rather confusedly by his biographers; but it appears, upon the whole, that they were unfortunate. He supported an only brother in his house, with a family as numerous as his own; and ruined himself by his generosity. At last the loss of his wife, after an union of fifty years, the death of many of his children, and his other

misfortunes, overwhelmed his intellects. Of this imbecility there were indeed some manifestations, in the latest productions of his pen.

THE REPTILE AND INSECT WORLD.
FROM UNIVERSAL BEAUTY, BOOK V.

LIKE Nature's law no eloquence persuades,
The mute harangue our ev'ry sense invades ;
Th' apparent precepts of the Eternal Will
His ev'ry work, and ev'ry object fill;
Round with our eyes his revelation wheels,
Our ev'ry touch his demonstration feels.
And, O Supreme! whene'er we cease to know
Thee, the sole Source, whence sense and science flow!

Then must all faculty, all knowledge fail,

And more than monster o'er the man prevail.

Not thus he gave our optic's vital glance, Amid omniscient art, to search for chance, Blind to the charms of Nature's beauteous frame; Nor made our organ vocal, to blaspheme: Not thus he will'd the creatures of his nod, And made the mortal, to unmake his God; Breath'd on the globe, and brooded o'er the wave, And bid the wide obsequious world conceive: Spoke into being myriads, myriads rise, And with young transport gaze the novel skies; Glance from the surge, beneath the surface scud, Or cleave enormous the reluctant flood;

Or roll vermicular their wanton maze,

And the bright path with wild meanders glaze;
Frisk in the vale, or o'er the mountains bound,
Or in huge gambols shake the trembling ground;
Swarm in the beam; or spread the plumy sail-
The plume creates, and then directs the gale:
While active gaiety, and aspect bright,
In each expressive, sums up all delight.

The reptile first, how exquisitely form'd, With vital streams through ev'ry organ warm'd! External round the spiral muscle winds, And folding close th' interior texture binds; Secure of limbs or needless wing he steers, And all one locomotive act appears; His rings with one elastic membrane bound, The prior circlet moves th' obsequious round; The next, and next, its due obedience owes, And with successive undulation flows. The mediate glands, with unctuous juice replete, Their stores of lubricating guile secrete; Still opportune, with prompt emission flow, And slipping frustrate the deluded foe; When the stiff clod their little augers bore, And all the worm insinuates through the pore. Slow moving next, with grave majestic pace, Tenacious snails their silent progress trace; Through foreign fields secure from exile roam, And sojourn safe beneath their native home. Their domes self-wreath'd, each architect attend, With mansions lodge them, and with mail defend:

But chief, when each his wint'ry portal forms,
And mocks secluded from incumbent storms;
Till gates, unbarring with the vernal ray,
Give all the secret hermitage to day;

Then peeps the sage from his unfolding doors,
And cautious Heaven's ambiguous brow explores:
Towards the four winds four telescopes he bends,
And on his own astrology depends;

Assur'd he glides beneath the smiling calm,
Bathes in the dew, and sips the morning balm;
The peach this pamp'ring epicure devours,
And climbing on the topmost fruitage towers.
Such have we cull'd from nature's reptile scene,
Least accurate of all the wondrous train,
Who plung'd recluse in silent caverns sleep;
Or multipede, earth's leafy verdure creep;
Or on the pool's new mantling surface play,
And range a drop, as whales may range the sea:
Or ply the rivulet with supple oars,

And oft, amphibious, course the neighb'ring shores;
Or shelt'ring, quit the dank inclement sky,
And condescend to lodge where princes lie;
There tread the ceiling, an inverted floor,
And from its precipice depend secure :
Or who nor creep, nor fly, nor walk, nor swim,
But claim new motion with peculiar limb,
Successive spring with quick elastic bound,
And thus transported pass the refluent ground.
Or who all native vehicles despise,

And buoy'd upon their own inventions rise;