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Dear madam, had you but the spirit to tease,

To shorten my tale (for I hate a long story), You might have a barrack whenever you please : The captain at dinner appears in his glory; And, madam, I always believed you so stout,

The dean and the doctor have humbled their pride, That for twenty denials you would not give out. For the captain's intreated to sit by your side; If I had a husband like hinn, I purtest,

And, because he's their betters, you carve for him 'Till he gave me my will, I would give him no rest; *

first, But, madam, I beg you contrive and invent,

The parsons for envy are ready to burst; And worry him out, 'till he gives his consent.

The servants amazed are scarce ever able Dear madam, whene'er of a barrack I think, To keep off their eyes, as they wait at the table; An I were to be hanged I can't sleep a wink :

And Molly and I have thrust in our nose For if a new crotchet comes into my brain,

To peep at the captain in all his fine clothes ; I can't get it out, though I'd never so fain.

Dear madam, be sure he's a fine spoken man, I fancy already a barrack contrived,

Do but hear on the clergy how glib his tongue ran; At Hamilton's Bawn, and the troop is arrived; * And madam,' says he, if such dinners you give, Of this, to be sure, Sir Arthur has warning,

You'll never want parsons as long as you live ; And waits on the captain betimes the next morning. I ne'er knew a parson without a good nose,

Now see when they meet how their honours behave, But the devil's as welcome wherever he goes; Noble captain, your servant-Sir Arthur, your slave; G-d-me, they bid us reform and repent, You honour me much-the honour is mine

But, 2-s, by their looks they never keep lent; 'Twas a sad rainy night-but the morning is fine. Mister curate, for all your grave looks, I'm afraid Pray how does my lady my wife's at your service. You cast a sheep's eye on her ladyship's maid; I think I have seen her picture by Jervis,

I wish she would lend you her pretty white hand Good morrow, good captain--I'll wait on you down In mending your cassock, and smoothing your band; You shan't stir a foot-you'll think me a clown (For the dean was so shabby, and looked like a ninny For all the world, captain, not half an inch farther That the captain supposed he was curate to Jenny). You must be obeyed-your servant, Sir Arthur; Whenever you see a cassock and gown, . My humble respects to my lady unknown

A hundred to one but it covers a clown;
I hope you will use my house as your own.

Observe how a parson comes into a room,
Go bring me my smock, and leave off your prate, G-d-me, he hobbles as bad as my groom ;
Thou hast certainly gotten a cup in thy pate.'

A scholar, when just from his college broke loose, Pray madam, be quiet: what was it I said ?

Can hardly tell how to cry bo to a goose ; You had like to have put it quite out of my head. Your Noveds, and Bluturks, and Omurs, and stuff,

Next day, to be sure, the captain will come By G-, they don't signify this pinch of snuff. At the head of his troop, with trumpet and drum; To give a young gentleman right education, Now, madam, observe how he marches in state; The army's the only good school of the nation; The man with the kettle-drum enters the gate; My schoolmaster called me a dunce and a fool, Dub, dub, adub, dub. The trumpeters follow, But at cuffs I was always the cock of the school; Tantara, tantara, while all the boys hollow.

I never could take to my book for the blood o' me, See now comes the captain all daubed with gold And the puppy confessed he expected no good o' me. lace;

He caught me one morning coquetting his wife, 0, la! the sweet gentleman, look in his face;

But he mauled me; I ne'er was so mauled in my life; And see how he rides like a lord of the land,

So I took to the road, and what's very odd, With the fine flaming sword that he holds in his hand; The first man I robbed was a parson by GAnd his horse, the dear creter, it prances and rears, Now, madam, you'll think it a strange thing to say, With ribbons in knots at its tail and its ears;

But the sight of a book makes me sick to this day." At last comes the troop, by the word of command, Never since I was born did I hear so much wit, Drawn up in our court, when the captain cries, Stand. And, madam, I laughed till I thought I should split. Your ladyship lifts up the sash to be seen

So then you looked scornful, and snift at the dean, (For sure I had dizened you out like a queen), As who should say, Nov, am I skinny and lean 13 The captain, to show he is proud of the favour, But he durst not so much as once open his lips, Looks up to your window, and cocks up his beaver. And the doctor was plaguily down in the hips. (His beaver is cocked; pray, madam, mark that,

Thus merciless Hannah ran on in her talk, For a captain of horse never takes off his hat;

Till she heard the dean call, Will your ladyship walk ! Because he has never a hand that is idle,

Her ladyship answers, I'm just coming down. For the right holds the sword, and the left holds the Then turning to Hannah and forcing a frown, bridle);

Although it was plain in her heart she was glad, Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air,

Cried, Hussy, why sure the wench is gone mad; As a compliment due to a lady so fair;

How could these chimeras get into your brains ? (How I tremble to think of the blood it hath spilt !) Come hither, and take this old gown for your pains. Then he lowers down the point, and kisses the hilt. But the dean, if this secret should come to his ears, Your ladyship smiles, and thus you begin :

Will never have done with his jibes and his jeers.
Pray captain, be pleased to alight and walk in. For your life not a word of the matter, I charge ye;
The captain salutes you with congee profound, Give me but a barrack, a fig for the clergy.'
And your ladyship curtsies half way to the ground.
Kit, run to your master, and bid him come to us.

I'm sure he'll be proud of the honour you do us;
And, captain, you'll do us the favour to stay,

United with Swift in friendship and in fame, but And take a short dinner here with us to-day;

possessing far higher powers as a poet, and more You're heartily welcome; but as for good cheer, refined taste as a satirist, was ALEXANDER POPE, You come in the very worst time of the year. born in London May 22, 1688. His father, a linen If I had expected so worthy a guest

draper, having acquired an independent fortune, Lord, madam! your ladyship sure is in jest ; retired to Binfield, in Windsor Forest. He was a You banter me, madam, the kingdom must grant Roman Catholic, and the young poet was partly You officers, captain, are so complaisant.

Hist, hussy, I think I hear somebody coming' 1 Dr Jenny, a clergyman in the neighbourhood. No, madam, 'tis only Sir Arthur a-humming.

2 Ovids, Plutarchs, Homers. 8 Nicknames for my lady.

educated by the family priest. He was afterwards machinery of the poem, founded upon the Rosicrucian sent to a Catholic seminary at Twyford, near Win. theory, that the elements are inhabited by spirits,

which they called sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and
salamanders, was added at the suggestion of Dr
Garth and some of his friends. Sylphs had been
previously mentioned as invisible attendants on the
fair, and the idea is shadowed out in Shakspeare's
• Ariel,' and the amusements of the fairies in the Mid-
summer Night's Dream.' But Pope has blended the
most delicate satire with the most lively fancy, and
produced the finest and most brilliant mock-heroic
poem in the world. It is,' says Johnson, 'the most
airy, the most ingenious, and the most delightful of
all Pope's compositions. The Temple of Fame and
the Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady, were next pub-
lished; and in 1713 appeared his Windsor Forest,
which was chiefly written so early as 1704. The
latter was evidently founded on Denham's .Cooper's
Hill,' which it far excels. Pope was, properly speak-
ing, no mere descriptive poet. He made the pic-
turesque subservient to views of historical events,
or to sketches of life and morals. But most of the
• Windsor Forest being composed in his earlier
years, amidst the shades of those noble woods which
he selected for the theme of his verse, there is in this
poem a greater display of sympathy with external
nature and rural objects than in any of his other
works. The lawns and glades of the forest, the
russet plains, and blue hills, and even the 'purple
dyes' of the wild heath,' had struck his young
imagination. His account of the dying pheasant is
a finished picture-
See ! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,

And mounts exulting on triumphant wings : chester, where he lampooned his teacher, was Short is his joy, he feels the fiery wound, severely punished, and afterwards taken home by Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. his parents. He educated himself, and attended no Ah! what avail his glossy varying dyes, school after his twelfth year! The whole of his His purple crest and scarlet-circled eyes; early life was that of a severe student. He was a The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, poet in his infancy.

| His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold : As yet a child, and all unknown to fame,

Another fine painting of external nature, as picI lisped in numbers, for the numbers came. turesque as any to be found in the purely descrip

tive poets, is the winter piece, in the Temple of The writings of Dryden became the more particular | Fame' object of his admiration, and he prevailed upon a friend to introduce him to Will's coffeehouse, which So Zembla's rocks (the beauteous work of frost) Dryden then frequented, that he might have the gra- Rise white in air, and glitter o'er the coast; tification of seeing an author whom he so enthusias - | Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away, tically admired. Pope was then not more than twelve And on the impassive ice the lightnings play;

age. He wrote. but afterwards destroyed, | External snows the growing mass supply, various dramatic pieces, and at the age of sixteen Till the bright mountains prop the incumbent sky : composed his Pastorals, and his imitations of Chaucer. As Atlas fixed, each hoary pile appears, He soon became acquainted with most of the eminent The gathered winter of a thousand years. persons of the day both in politics and literature. În 1711 appeared his Essay on Criticism, unquestion.

Pope now commenced his translation of the Iliad. ably the finest piece of argumentative and reasoning

At first the gigantic task oppressed him with its poetry in the English language. The work is said

difficulty, but he grew more familiar with Homer's to have been composed two years before publication,

images and expressions, and in a short time was when Pope was only twenty-one. The ripeness of

able to despatch fifty verses a-day. Great part of judgment which it displays is truly marvellous.

the manuscript was written upon the backs and Addison commended the 'Essay' warmly in the

covers of letters, evincing that it was not withSpectator, and it instantly rose into great popu

out reason he was called paper-sparing Pope. The larity. The style of Pope was now formed and com- Po

poet obtained a clear sum of £5320, 4s. by this plete. His versification was that of his master,

translation : his exclamationDryden, but he gave the heroic couplet a peculiar

And thanks to Homer, since I live and thrive, terseness, correctness, and melody. The essay was

Indebted to no prince or peer aliveshortly afterwards followed by the Rape of the Lock. The stealing of a lock of hair from a beauty of the was, however, scarcely just, if we consider that this day, Miss Arabella Fermor, by her lover, Lord large sum was in fact a benevolence' from the upper Petre, was taken seriously, and caused an estrange- classes of society, good-naturedly designed to reward mert between the families, and Pope wrote his his literary merit. The fame of Pope was not advanced poem to make a jest of the affair, 'and laugh them in an equal degree with his fortuve by his labours together again.' In this he did not succeed, but he as a translator. The · fatal facility' of his rhyme, added greatly to his reputation by the effort. The | the additional false ornaments which he imparted

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Where grows where grows it not ? If vain our toil, The anticipated approach of the Pretender led the We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.

government to issue a proclamation prohibiting every Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere;

Roman Catholic from appearing within ten miles of "Tis nowhere to be found, or everywhere;

London. The poet complied with the proclamation; 'Tis never to be bought, but always free,

and he was soon afterwards too ill to be in town. And fled from monarchs, St Johx! dwells with thee. This additional proclamation from the Highest of Ask of the learned the way! The learned are blind; | all Powers,' as he terms his sickness, he submitted This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind; to without murmuring. A constant state of exciteSome place the bliss in action, some in case ;

ment, added to a life of ceaseless study and contemThose call it pleasure, and contentment these; plation, operating on a frame naturally delicate and Some sunk to beasts, find pleasure end in pain; deformed from birth, had completely exhausted the Some swelled to gods, confess even virtue vain; powers of Pope. He complained of his inability to Or indolent, to each extreme they fall,

think ; yet, a short time before his death, he said, I To trust in everything, or doubt of all.

am so certain of the soul's being immortal, that' Pope's future labours were chiefly confined to seem to feel it within me as it were by intuition.' satire. In 1727 he published, in conjunction with Another of his dying remarks was, “ There is nothing his friend Swift, three volumes of Miscellanies, in

that is meritorious but virtue and friendship; and, prose and verse, which drew down upon the authors

indeed, friendship itself is only a part of virtue.' He à torrent of invective, lampoons, and libels, and

died at Twickenham on the 30th of May, 1744. ultimately led to the Dunciad, by Pope. This ela

The character and genius of Pope have given rise borate and splendid satire displays the fertile inven

to abundance of comment and speculation. The tion of the poet, the variety of his illustration, and

occasional fierceness and petulance of his satire canthe unrivalled force and facility of his diction ;

not be justified, even by the coarse attacks of his but it is now read with a feeling more allied to pity

opponents, and must be ascribed to his extreme than admiration-pity that one so highly gifted

sensibility, to over-indulged vanity, and to a hasty should have allowed himself to descend to things so

and irritable temper. His sickly constitution debarmean, and devote the end of a great literary life to

ring him from active pursuits, he placed too high a the infliction of retributary pain on every humble

value on mere literary fame, and was deficient in aspirant in the world of letters. “I have often

the manly virtues of sincerity and candour. At the wondered,' says Cowper, that the same poet who

same time he was a public benefactor, by stigmatiswrote the “Dunciad" should have written these

ing the vices of the great, and lashing the absurd lines

pretenders to taste and literature. He was a fond

and steady friend; and in all our literary biography, That mercy I to others show,

there is nothing finer than his constant undeviating That mercy show to me.

affection and reverence for his venerable parents. Alas for Pope, if the mercy he showed to others was

Me let the tender office long engage, the measure of the mercy he received.' Sir Walter

To rock the cradle of reposing age; Scott has justly remarked, that Pope must have

With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, suffered the most from these wretched contentions.

Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death; It is known that his temper was ultimately much

Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, changed for the worse. Misfortunes were also now

And keep at least one parent from the sky. gathering round him. Swift was fast verging on insanity, and was lost to the world; Atterbury and

Prologue to the Salires. Gay died in 1732; and next year his venerable As a poet, it would be absurd to rank Pope with the mother, whose declining years he had watched with greatest masters of the lyre; with the universality of affectionate solicitude, also expired. Between the Shakspeare, or the sublimity of Milton. He was years 1733 and 1740, Pope published his inimitable undoubtedly more the poet of artificial life and man. Epistles, Satires, and Moral Essays, addressed to his ners than the poet of nature. He was a nice observer friends Bolingbroke, Bathurst, Arbuthnot, &c., and and an accurate describer of the phenomena of the containing the most noble and generous sentiments, mind, and of the varying shades and gradations of mixed up with withering invective and the fiercest vice and virtue, wisdom and folly. He was too fond denunciations. In 1742 he added a fourth book to of point and antithesis, but the polish of the weapon the Dunciad,' displaying the final advent of the god was equalled by its keenness. Let us look,' says dess to destroy order and science, and to substitute Campbell, 'to the spirit that points his antithesis, the kingdom of the dull upon earth. The point of and to the rapid precision of his thoughts, and we his individual satire, and the richness and boldness shall forgive him for being too antithetic and senof his general design, attest the undiminished powers | tentious. His wit, fancy, and good sense, are as and intense feeling of the poet. Next year Pope remarkable as his satire. His elegance has never prepared a new edition of the four books of the been surpassed, or perhaps equalled: it is a combi• Dunciad,' and elevated Colley Cibber to the situa- | nation of intellect, imagination, and taste, under the tion of hero of the poem. This unenviable honour direction of an independent spirit and refined moral had previously been enjoyed by Theobald, a tasteless feeling. If he had studied more in the school of critic and commentator on Shakspeare; but in thus nature and of Shakspeare, and less in the school of yielding to his personal dislike of Cibber, Pore in- | Horace and Boileau ; if he had cherished the frame jured the force of his satire. The laureate, as War- and spirit in which he composed the • Elegy' and ton justly remarks, with a great stock of levity, the * Eloisa,' and forgot his too exclusive devotion vanity, and affectation, had sense, and wit, and to that which inspired the Dunciad,' the world humour; and the author of the “ Careless Husband" would have hallowed his memory with a still more was by no means a proper king of the dunces.' Cib- | affectionate and permanent interest than even that ber was all vivacity and conceit-the very reverse which waits on him as one of our most brilliant of personified dulness,

and accomplished English poets. Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound.

| Mr Campbell in his 'Specimens' has given an elo

quent estimate of the general powers of Pope, with Political events came in the rear of this accumulated reference to his position as a poet :- That Pope was and vehement satire to agitate the last days of Pope. neither so insensible to the beauties of nature, nor

so indistinct in describing them, as to forget the Rapt into future times, the bard begun : character of a genuine poet, is what I mean to urge, | A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! without exaggerating his picturesqueness. But be- From Jesse's root behold a branch arise, fore speaking of that quality in his writings, I would Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies : beg leave to observe, in the first place, that the fa- | The ethereal spirit o'er its leaves shall move, culty by which a poet luminously describes objects of And on its top descends the mystic Dove. art, is essentially the same faculty which enables him Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour, to be a faithful describer of simple nature; in the se- And in soft silence shed the kindly shower. cond place, that nature and art are to a greater degree The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid, relative terms in poetical description than is generally From storms a shelter, and from heat a shade. recollected; and thirdly, that artificial objects and All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds snall fail ; manners are of so much importance in fiction, as to Returning Justice lift aloft her scale; make the exquisite description of them no less cha- | Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, racteristic of genius than the description of simple And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend. physical appearances. The poet is “creation's heir." | Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn ! Ile deepens our social interest in existence. It is Oh, spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born! surely by the liveliness of the interest which he ex- | See, nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring, cites in existence, and not by the class of subjects | With all the incense of the breathing spring! which he chooses, that we most fairly appreciate the See lofty Lebanon his head advance ! genius or the life of life which is in him. It is no See nodding forests on the mountains dance!

erence to the external charms of nature to say. See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise, that they are not more important to a poet's study | And Carmel's flowery top perfume the skies! than the manners and affections of his species.

Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers; Nature is the poet's goddess; but by nature, no one

Prepare the way! a God, a God appears ! rightly understands her mere inanimate face, how

A God, a God! the vocal hills reply; ever charming it may be, or the simple landscape

The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity. painting of trees, clouds, precipices, and flowers.

Lo! earth receives him from the bending skies ; Why, tlien, try Pope, or any other poet, exclusively

Sink down, ye mountains; and ye valleys rise ; by his powers of describing inanimate phenomena?

With heads declined, ye cedars homage pay; Nature, in the wide and proper sense of the word,

Be smooth, ye rocks: ye rapid floods, give way! means life in all its circumstances-nature, moral

The Saviour comes ! by ancient bards foretold : as well as external. As the subject of inspired fic

Hear him, ye deaf : and all ye blind, behold !

| He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, tion, nature includes artificial forms and manners. Richardson is no less a painter of nature than Homer.

And on the sightless eyeball pour the day : Homer himself is a minute describer of works of

'Tis he the obstructed paths of sound shall clear, art; and Milton is full of imagery derived from it.

And bid new music charm the unfolding ear :

The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, Satan's spear is compared to the pine, that makes

And leap exulting like the bounding roe. " the mast of some great ammiral;” and his shield is

No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear ; like the moon, but like the moon artificially seen

From every face he wipes off every tear. through the glass of the Tuscan artist. The “spirit

In adamantine chains shall death be bound, stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, the royal banner,

And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound. and all the quality, pride, pomp, and circumstance of

As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, glorious war," are all artificial images. When Shak

Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air; speare groups into one view the most sublime objects

Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs, of the universe, he fixes on “ the cloud-capt towers,

By day o'ersees them, and by night protects; the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples." Those

The tender lambs he raises in his arms, who have ever witnessed the spectacle of the launch

Feeds from his hand and in his bosom warms; ing of a ship of the line, will perhaps forgive me for

Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage, adding this to the examples of the sublime objects

The promised father of the future age. of artificial life. Of that spectacle I can never forget | No more shall nation against nation rise. the impression, and of having witnessed it reflected | Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes ; from the faces of ten thousand spectators. They | Nor fields with gleaming steel be covered o'er, seem yet before me. I sympathise with their deep | The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more : and silent expectation, and with their final burst of But useless lances into scythes shall bend, enthusiasm. It was not a vulgar joy, but an affect. And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. ing national solemnity. When the vast bulwark | Then palaces shall rise ; the joyful son sprang from her cradle, the calm water on which Shall finish what his short-lived sire begun; she swung majestically round, gave the imagination | Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield, a contrast of the stormy element in which she was And the same hand that sowed, shall reap the field 800n to ride. All the days of battle and nights of The swain in barren descrts with surprise danger which she had to encounter, all the ends of Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ; the earth which she had to visit, and all that she And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds to hear had to do and to suffer for her country, rose in awful New falls of water murmuring in his ear. presentiment before the mind; and when the heart On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes, gave her a benediction, it was like one pronounced The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods. on a living being.'

Waste sandy valleys, once perplexed with thorn,

The spiry fir and shapely box adorn :
The Messiah.

To leafless shrubs the flowery palms succeed,

And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed. Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song:

The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant moed, To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.

And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead : The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades,

The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids,

And harınless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet. Delight no more-0 thou my voice inspire,

The smiling infant in his hand shall take Who touched Isaiah's ballowed lips with fire!

The crested basilisk and speckled snake;

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