remembrance the remarks of an elegant transatlantic 
writer, on 44 the rural feeling which runs through Bri¬ 
tish literature, continued down from 4 the Floure and 
Leafe’ of Chaucer to the present day. The pastoral 
writers of other countries,” says he, 44 appear as if they 
had paid nature an occasional visit, and become ac¬ 
quainted with her general charms; but the British poets 
have wooed her in her most secret haunts. A spray 
could not tremble in the breeze, a leaf could not rustle 
to the ground, a fragrance could not exhale from the 
humble violet, nor a daisy unfold its crimson tints to 
the morning, but it has been noticed by these impas¬ 
sioned and delicate observers, and wrought into some 
beautiful morality.” 
