Thine, Henry, is a deathless name on earth,
Thine amaranthine wreaths, new pluck'd in Heaven!
By what aspiring child of mortal birth
Could more be ask'd, to whom might more be given
TOWNSEND.

It has been said that the contrasts of light and shade are as
necessary to biography as to painting, and that the character
which is radiant with genius and virtue requires to be relieved
by more common and opposite qualities. Though this may be true
as a principle, there are many exceptions; and the life of Henry
Kirke White, whose merits were unalloyed by a single vice, is one
of the most memorable. The history of his short and melancholy
career, by Mr. Southey, is extremely popular; and when it is
remembered that its author is one of the most distinguished of
living writers, that as a biographer he is unrivalled, and that
he had access to all the materials which exist, it would be as
vain to expect from the present Memoir any new facts, as it would
be absurd to hope that it will be more worthy of attention than
the imperishable monument which his generous friend has erected
to his memory.

There is, however, nothing inconsistent with this admission, in
presuming that a Life of the Poet might be written almost as
interesting as the one alluded to, and without the writer assuming
to himself any unusual sagacity. As Mr. Southey's narrative is
prefixed to a collection of all Kirke White's remains, in prose as
well as in verse, his letters are inserted as part of his works,