Or is it he, the youth, whose daring soul With half a mission sought the Frozen Pole; suspended, and among them that of the Author of the writings. It was required of a young student, after reading a few sentences in the page, to point out among the wigs, that which must of necessity belong to the head in which such sentences had been engendered. The experiment succeeded to a miracle.-The learned reader will now see all the beauty and propriety of the metonymy. + KIDNAPP'D RHIMES.-Kidnapp'd, implies something more than stolen. It is, according to an expression of Mr. Sheridan's (in the Critic), using other people's "thoughts as gipsies do stolen children—disfiguring them, to make them pass for their "own." This is a serious charge against an Author, and ought to be well supported. To the proof then! In an Ode of the late Lord Nugent's are the following spirited lines: The Author abovementioned, saw these lines, and liked them as well he might: and as he had a mind to write about Rome himself, he did not scruple to enlist them into his service; but he thought it right to make a small alteration in their appearance, which he managed thus-Speaking of Rome, he says it is the place "Where Cato liv'd" A sober truth: which gets rid at once of all the poetry and spirit of the original, and reduces the sentiment from an example of manners, virtue, patriotism, from the vitæ exemplar dedit of Lord Nugent, to a mere question of inhabitancy. Ubi habitavit Cato-where he was an inhabitant-householder, paying scot and lot, and And then, returning from the unfinish'd work, Wrote half a letter,—to demolish Burke ? Studied Burke's manner,-aped his forms of speech ;- One luckless slip his meaning overstrains, And loads the blunderbuss with B-df-d's brains.* had a house on the right-hand side of the way, as you go down Esquiline Hill, just opposite to the poulterer's-But to proceed— "Where Cato liv'd; where Tully spoke, "Where Brutus dealt the godlike stroke— The last line is not borrowed. We question whether the History of modern Literature can produce an instance of a theft so shameless, and turned to so little advantage. * And loads the blunderbuss with B―df—d's brains.—This line is wholly unintelligible without a note; and we are afraid the note will be wholly incredible, unless the reader can fortunately procure the book to which it refers. In the " Part of a Letter," which was published by Mr. Robert Ad-r, in answer to Mr. Burke's" Letter to the D. of B." nothing is so remarkable as the studious imitation of Mr. Burke's style. His vehemence, and his passion, and his irony, his wild imagery, his far-sought illustrations, his rolling and lengthened periods, and the short quick-pointed sentences in which he often condenses as much wisdom and wit as others would expand through pages, or through volumes—all these are carefully kept in view by his opponent, though not always very artificially copied or applied. But imitators are liable to be led strangely astray: and never was there an instance of a more complete mistake of a plain meaning, than that which this line Whoe'er thou art-ne'er may thy patriot fire, Unfed by praise or patronage, expire! Forbid it, Taste !-with compensation large Patrician hands thy labours shall o'ercharge! * B-df-rd and Wh-tbr-d shall vast sums advance, Whoe'er thou art!-before thy feet we lay, With lowly suit, our Number of to-day! is intended to illustrate—a mistake no less than of a coffin for a corpse. This is hard to believe, or to comprehend--but you shall hear. Mr. Burke, in one of his publications, had talked of the French " unplumbing the dead in order to destroy the living,"-by which he intended, without doubt, not metaphorically, but literally, " stripping the dead of their leaden coffins, and then making them (not the DEAD, but the COFFINS) into bullets."—A circumstance perfectly notorious at the time the book was written. But this does not satisfy our Author. He determines to retort Mr. Burke's own words upon him; and unfortunately" reaching at a metaphor," where Mr. Burke only intended a fact, he falls into the little mistake abovementioned, and by a stroke of his pen, transmutes the illustrious Head of the house of Russell into a metal, to which it is not for us to say how near, or how remote his affinity may possibly have been.—He writes thus—“ If Mr. Burke had been content with‹ un'plumbing' a dead Russell, and hewing HIM (observe—not the coffin, but HIM— the old dead Russell himself) into grape and canister, to sweep down the whole gene"ration of his descendants," &c. &c. &c. The thing is scarcely credible: but it is so! We write with the book open before us. * Qu.-Surcharge? Spurn not our offering with averted eyes ! ODE TO LORD M—RA. IF F on your head* some vengeance fell, M-ra, for every tale you tell, The listening Lords to cozen; If but one whisker lost its hue, I'd hear them by the dozen. But still, howe'er you draw your bow,† Your charms improve, your triumphs grow, |