must come
"in spite" of something else as well as "of sorrow," to the performance
of this office.

In the next image, the Natural History is better preserved; and, as the
thoughts are appropriate to the time of day, we will venture to
transcribe the passage, as a favourable specimen of the Author's manner:

While the Cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,
And to the stack, or the barn door,
Stoutly struts his dames before;
Oft listening how the hounds and horns
Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing still.

Is it not lamentable that, after all, whether it is the Cock, or the
Poet, that listens, should be left entirely to the Reader's conjectures?
Perhaps also his embarrassment may be increased by a slight resemblance
of character in these two illustrious Personages, at least as far as
relates to the extent and numbers of their seraglio.

After a _flaming_ description of sunrise, on which the clouds attend in
their very best liveries; the Bill of Fare for the day proceeds in the
usual manner. Whistling Ploughmen, singing Milkmaids, and sentimental
Shepherds are always to be had at a moment's notice; and, if well
grouped, serve to fill up the landscape agreeably enough.

On this part of the Poem we have only to remark, that if Mr JOHN MILTON
proposeth to make himself merry with

Russet lawns, and fallows grey
Where the nibbling flocks _do_ stray;
Mountains on whose barren breast
The labouring clouds _do_ often rest,
Meadows trim with daisies pied,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide,
Towers and battlements, &c. &c. &c.

he will either find himself egregiously disappointed; or he must possess
a disposition to merriment which even DEMOCRITUS himself might envy. To
such a pitch indeed does this solemn indication of joy sometimes rise,
that we are inclined to give him credit for a literal adherence to the
Apostolic precept, "Is any merry, let him sing Psalms!"

At length, however, he hies away at the sound of bell-ringing, and seems
for some time to enjoy the tippling and fiddling and dancing of a village
wake: but his fancy is soon haunted again by spectres and goblins, a set
of beings not, in general, esteemed the companions or inspirers of mirth.

With stories told of many a feat,
How fairy MAB the junkets eat.
She was pinched, and pulled, she said:
And he,