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At first none deem'd it his; but when his name
Announced the fact —what then ? — it lost its fame.
Though all deplore when Milton deigns to doze,
In a long work 'tis fair to steal repose.

As pictures, so shall poems be; some stand
The critic eye, and please when near at hand;
But others at a distance strike the sight;
This seeks the shade, but that demands the light.
Nor dreads the connoisseur's fastidious view,
But, ten times scrutinised, is ten times new.

Parnassian pilgrims! ye whom chance or choice
Hath led to listen to the Muse's voice,
Receive this counsel, and be timely wise;
Few reach the summit which before you lies.
Our church and state, our courts and camps, concede
Reward to very moderate heads indeed t
In these plain common sense will travel far;
All are not Erskines who mislead the bar:
But poesy between the best and worst
No medium knows; you must be last or first;
For middling poets' miserable volumes
Arc damn'd alike by gods, and men, and columns.1

Quern bit torque bouum cum risu miror; et Idem
Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Humerus.
Verum operl longo fas est obrepere somnum.

I t pictura, poesis: erlt quae, si propius stes,
Te capfet magis ; et qusedam, si longius abates:
Hasc amat obscurum; volet hcec sub luce videri,
Judicls argutum a use nou formtdat acumen:
Usee placuit scmel; htec decies repetita placebit.

> [Here, in the original MS., we find the following couplet and nute: —

"Though what' Gods, men, and columns' interdict,
The Devil and Jeffrey pardon—in a Pict.

"The Devil and Jeffrey are here placed antithetically to gods and men, such being their usual position, and their due one — according to the facetious saying, ' If God won't take you, the Devil must;' and I am sure no one durst object to his taking the poetry which, rejected by Horace, Is accepted by Jeffrey. That these gentlemen are in some cases kinder, — the one to countrymen, and the other from his odd propensity to prefer evil to good, — than the * gods, men, and columns' of Horace, may be seen by a reference to the review of Campbell's ' Gertrude of Wyoming;' and in No. 31. of the Edinburgh Review (given to me the other day by the captain of an English frigate off Salamis), there is a similar concession to the mediocrity of Jamie Graham's 'British Georgics.' It is fortunate for Campbell, that his fame neither depends on'hts last poem, nor the puff of the Edinburgh Review. The catalogues of our English are also less fastidious than the pillars of the Roman librarians—A word more with the author of' Gertrude of Wyoming.' At the end of a poem, and even of a couplet, we have generally 'that unmeaning thing we call a thought;' so Mr. Campbell concludes with a thought in such a manner as to fulfil the whole of Pope's prescription, and be as 1 unmeaning' as the best of his brethren: —

'Because I may not statn with grief
The death-song of an Indian chief.'

When I was In the fifth form, I carried to my master the translation of a chorus in Prometheus, wherein was a pestilent expression about' staining a voice,' which met with no quarter. Little did I think that Mr. Campbell would have adopted my fifth form ' sublime'—at least in so conspicuous a situation. * Sorrow' has been 'dry*- (in proverbs), and 'wet' (in sonnets), this many a day; and now it * stain*,' and stains a sound, of all feasible things I To be sure, deathsongs might have been stained with that same grief to very good purpose, if Outalissl had clapped down his stanzas on wholesome paper for the Edinburgh Evening Post, or any other given hyperborean gazette; or if the said Outalissl had been troubled with the slightest second sight of his own notes embodied on the last proof of an overcharged quarto: but as he is supposed to have been an improvisatore on this occasion, and probably to the last tune he ever chanted in this world, it would have done him no discredit to have made his exit with a mouthful of common sense. Talking of' staining' (as Caleb Quotem says) * puts me in mind' of a certain

Again, my Jeffrey ! — as that sound inspires,
How wakes ray bosom to its wonted fires!
Fires, such as gentle Caledonians feel
When Southrons writhe upon their critic wheel,
Or mild Eclectics when some, worse than Turks,
Would rob poor Faith to decorate " good 1
Such are the genial feelings thou canst eh
My falcon flies not at ignoble game.
Mightiest of all Dunedin's beasts of chase:
For thee my Pegasus would mend his pace.
Arise, my Jeffrey! or my inkless pen
Shall never blunt its edge on meaner men;
Till thee or thine mine evil eye discerns,
Alas I "I cannot strike at wretched kernes."3
Inhuman Saxon 1 wilt thou then resign
A muse and heart by choice so wholly thine?
Dear, d—d contemner of my schoolboy songs,
ilast thou no vengeance for my manhood's

If unprovoked thou once could bid me bleed,
Uast thou no weapon for my daring deed?
What! not a word !—and am I then so low?
Wilt thou forbear, who never spared a foe?

0 major juvenum, quamvis et voce paterna
Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis, hoc tibi dictum
TolTe mem or: certis medium et tolerabile rebus
Recte concedl; consultus juris, et actor
Causarum mediocris, abest vlrtute dlserti
Messalsz, nec scit quantum Cascelllus Aulus:

Sed tamen In pretio est: mediocribus esse poetls
Nun homines, non Dl, non conccstere columnse.

couplet, which Mr. Campbell will find in a writer for wboca he, and his school, have no small contempt; —

1 E'en copious Dryden wanted, or forgot.

The last and greatest art — the art to Mot!' "]

a To the Eclectic or Christian Reviewers I hare to return thanks for the fervour of that charity which, in 1809, induced them to express a hope that a thing then published by Dm might lead to certain consequences, which, although natural enough, surely came but rashly from reverend lips. I resVr them to their own pages, where they co selves on the prospect of a tilt between Mr. from which some great good was to both were knocked on the head. Having survived two years and a half those " Elegies" which they were kindly preparing to review, I have no peculiar gusto to give then "so joyful a trouble," except, Indeed, " upon compulsioc, Hal;" but, If, as David says In the " Rivals, it should come to " bloody sword and gun fighting," we ** won't run, will we, Sir Lucius?" 1 do not know what I had done to these Eclectic gentlemen : my works are their lawful perquisite, to be hewn In pieces like Agag, if it seem meet unto them : be: why they should be in such a hurry to kill off their author. I am ignorant. "The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong:" and now, as these Christians hare "smote me on one cheek," I hold them up the other; and. in return for their good wishes, give them aa opportunity of repeating them. Had any other set of men expressed seek sentiments, I should have smiled, and left them to the ** recording angel;" but from the pharisees of Chrutfanirr decency might be expected. I can assure these brethren, that, publican and sinner aa I am, I would not have treated "mine enemy's dog thus." To show them the superiority of my brotherly love, if ever the Reverend Messrs. Sraseoc or Ramsden should be engaged in such a conflict as that hi which they requested me to fall, I hope they mav escape +i& being " winged " only, and that Heaviside may be at hind to

extract the ball [The following Is the charitable pas*a*7

in the Eclectic Review of which Lord Byron speaks:—** If the noble lord and the learned advocate have the course* requisite to sustain their mutual Insults, we shall prcbaSty soon hear the explosions of another kind of MDCJ>war, aftpr the fashion of the ever memorable duel which the latter is

Jeffrry and myself.

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Hast thou no wrath, or wish to give it vent?

No wit for nobles, dunces by descent?

No jest on " minors," quibbles on a name,'

Nor one facetious paragraph of blame?

Is it for this on Ilion I have stood,

And thought of Homer less than Holy rood

On shore of Euxine or -Egcan sea

My hate, untravell'd, fondly turn'd to thee.

Ah! let me cease; in vain my bosom bums,

From Corydon unkind Alexis turns: 3

Thy rhymes are vain; thy Jeffrey then forego

Nor woo that anger which he will not show.

What then ?—Edina starves some lanker son,

To write an article thou canst not shun;

Some less fastidious Scotchman shall be found,

As bold in Billingsgate, though less renown'd.

I Mte'

As if at table some discordant dish Should shock our optics, such as frogs for fish; As oil in lieu of butter men decry, And poppies please not in a modern pie; If all such mixtures then be half a crime, We must have excellence to relish rhyme. Mere roast and hoi I'd no epicure invites; Thus poetry disgusts, or else delights.

Who shoot not flying rarely touch a gun: Will he who swims not to the river run?

TJt grata* inter mensas symphonia disenrs,

Et crassum unguentum, et Sardo cum melle papaver

Offendunt. poterat duel quia ccena sine istis;

Sic animls natum inventumque pocma juvandis,

Si paulum a summo deenasit, vergit ad imura.

Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abuinet armis, Indoctusque pilfe, discive, trochive, quiescit, N'e spUsae risum to 11 ant impune corona?: Qui nescit, versus tamen audet fingere ! — Quidni t Liber et ingenuus praesertlm census equestrem

[See the memorable critique of the Edinburgh Review on ** Hoars of Idleness," ante, p. 419.] 9 Invenies alium, si te hie fastidtt Alexin. s [Lord Byron's taste for boxing brought him acquainted, at an early period, with this distinguished, and, it is not too much to say, respected, professor of the art; for whom, throughout life, he continued to entertain a sincere regard, la a note to the eleventh canto of Don Juan, he rails him P his old friend, and corporeal pastor and master."]

* Mr. Souther has lately tied another canister to his tail in toe " Curse of tvehama," maugre the neglect of Madoc, Ac, and has in one instance had a wonderful effect. A literary friend of mine, walking out one lovely evening last summer, oo the eleventh bridge of the Paddington canal, was alarmed by the cry of *' one in jeopardy:" he rushed along, collected a body of Irish haymakers (supping on butter-milk in an adjacent paddock), procured three rakes, one eel-spear, and a landing-net, and at last (horresco referens) pulled out — his publisher. The unfortunate man was gone for ever, so was a large quarto wherewith he had taken the leap, proved, on inquiry, to have been Mr. Southey's last Its "alacrity of sinking" was so great, that it has since been heard of; though some maintain that it is moment concealed at Alderman Birch's pastry prcCornhill. Be this as it may, the coroner's inquest t in a verdict of" Felo de bibliopola " against a "quarto and circumstantial evidence being since strong the " Curse of Kehama" (of which the above words exact description), it will be tried by its peers next

in Grub-street Arthur. Alfred, Davideis, Kichard

Lion, Exodui, Exodio, Epigoniad, Calvary, Fall of Siege of Acre, Don Roderick, and Tom Thumb are the names of the twelve jurors. The judges towles, and the bellman of St. Sepulchre's. The advocates, pro and con, will be employed as arc now in Sir Francis Burdett's celebrated cause in the courts. The public anxiously await the result, and

all live publishers will be subpoenaed as witnesses But

Mr. Souther ha» published the " Curse of Kehama," — an f title to quibblers. By the bye, it is a good deal i Scott and Campbell, and not much above Sou they, * the booby BaUantyne to entitle them, in the Edin


Such things, we know, are neither rtch nor rare, But wonder how the devil he came there." The trio are well defined in the sixth proposition of Euclid: "Because, in the triangles D B C, A C B, D B is equid to A C, and B C common to both ; the two sides D B, B C, are equal to the two A C, C B, each to each, and the angle D B C is equal to the angle A C B: therefore, the base D C is equal to the base AB, and the triangle DBC (Mr. Southey) is equal to the triangle A C B, the less to the greater, which is absurd," &c—The editor of the Edinburgh Register will find the rest of the theorem hard by his stabling; he has only to cross the river; 'tis the first turnpike t'other side *' Pons Asinorum."*

* Voltaire's " Pucellc" isnot quite so immaculate as Mr. Southey's '* Joan of Arc," and yet I am afraid the Frenchman has both more truth and poetry too on his side —(thev rarely go together)—than our patriotic minstrel, whose firs't essay was in praise of a fanatical French strumpet, whose title of witch would be correct with the change of the first letter. B

« Like Sir Bland Burges's " Richard ; '* the tenth book of which I read at Malta, on a trunk of Eyre's, 19, Cockspurstreet. If this be doubted, I shall buy a portmanteau to quote

* This Latin has sorely puzzled the University of Edinburgh. BaUantyne said it meant the ** Bridge of Berwick," but Southey claimed it as half English; Scott swore it was the " Brig o' Stirling ;" he had just passed two King James's and a dozen Douglases over it. At last it was decided by Jeffrey, that it meant nothing more nor less than the " counter of Archy Constable's 6bop.

G g

And men unpractised In exchanging knocks

Must to Jackson3 ere they dare to box.

Whate'er the weapon, cudgel, fist, or foil,

None reach expertness without years of toll;

But fifty dunces can, with perfect ease,

Tag twenty thousand couplets, when they please. | Why not ? —shall I, thus qualified to Bit , For rotten boroughs, never show my wit?

Shall I, whose fathers with the quorum ute|

And lived in freedom on a fair estate; \ Who left me heir, with stables, kennels, packs, j To all their income, and to — twice its tax;

Whose form and pedigree have scarce a fault,

Shall I, I say, suppress my attic salt?

Thus think " the mob of gentlemen ; " but you,
Besides all this, must have some genius too.
Be this your sober judgment, and a rule,
And print not piping hot from Southey's school,
Who (ere another Thalaba appears),
I trust, will spare us for at least nine years.
And hark 'ye, Southey4 I pray — but don't be
vex'd —

Burn all your last three works—and half the next.
But why this vain advice? once published, books
Can never be recall'd — from pastry-cooks!
Though " Madoc," with 44 Pucelle V' instead of punk,
May travel back to Quito — on a trunk !6

Summam nummorum, vltioque rcmotus ab omni.

Tu nihil invita dices f.iclesve Minerva i

Id tlbl judicium est, ea mens; si quid tamen ollm

Scrlpseris, in Metii descendat judicis aurcs.

Ft patrls, et nostras, nouutnquc prcmatur In annum,

Membranis intus positls. Delere liccblt

(juod non edideris; nescit Tox missa revert!.

Sylvestres homines sneer intcrpretque deoruin
Camibus et vietu fanlo deterruit Orpheus:
Dictus ob hue lenirc tigres, rabidosque lcones:

burgh Annual Register (of which, by the bye, Southey fs
editor) " the grand poetical triumvirate of the day." But,
on second thoughts, it can be no great degree of praise to
be the one-eyed leaders of the blind, though they might as
well keep to themselves " Scott's thirty thousand copies
sold," which must sadly discomfit poor Southey's unsale-
able*. Poor Southey, it should seem, is the" Lcpidu»"of [j
this poetical triumvirate. I am only surprised to see him in
such good —

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Orpheus, we learn from Ovid and Lempriere,
Led all wild beasts but women by the ear;
And had he Addled at the present hour,
We'd seen the lions waltzing in the Tower;
And old Amphion, such were minstrels then,
Had built St Paul's without the aid of Wren.
Verse too was justice, and the bards of Greece
]>id more than constables to keep the peace;
Abolish'd cuckoldom with much applause,
Call'd county meetings, and enforced the laws,
Cut down crown influence with reforming scythes,
And served the church—without demanding tithes;
And hence, throughout all Hellas and the East,
Each poet was a prophet and a priest,
Whose old-establish'd board of joint controls
Included kingdoms in the cure of souls.

Next rose the martial Homer, Epic's prince,
And fighting's been in fashion ever since,
And old Tyrta;us, when the Spartans warr'd,
(A limping leader, but a lofty bard,)1
Though wall'd Ithome had resisted long,
Seduced the fortress by the force of song.

When oracles prcvail'd, in times of old,
In song alone Apollo's will was told:
Then if your verse is what all verse should be,
And gods were not ashamed on't, why should we?

The Muse, like mortal females, may be woo'd;
In turns she '11 seem a Paphian, or a prude;
Fierce as a bride when first she feels affright,
Mild as the game upon the second night;
Wild as the wife of alderman or peer,
Now for his grace, and now a grenadier!
Her eyes beseem, her heart belies, her zone,
Ice in a crowd, and lava when alone.

If verse be studied with some show of art,
Kind Nature always will perform her part;

Plctufi et Amphion, Thebaiue conditor arcis,
Saxa movere sono testudinis, ct prece blanda
Ducere quo vellet: fuit haec sapientia quondam,
Fubllca privatis secernere; sacra profanis;
Concubito prohlbere vago; dare jura maritis;
Oppfda moliri; leges incidere ligno.
Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit. Post hoa insignis llomerus
Tyrtaiusque mares animos in Martia bella
Yersibus exacuit; diets per carmina sortes,
Et vita; monstrata via est: ct gratia regum
Pieriis tentata niodis: ludusque repertus,
Et longorum operum finis: nc forte pudori

1 [.Lord Byron had originally written —

•' As lame as 1 am, but a better bard." The reader of Mr. Moore's Kotiees will appreciate the feeling which, no doubt, influenced Lord Byron B alteration of the manuscript line.]

3 [The red hand of Ulster, introduced generally in a canton, marks the shield of a baronet of the United Kingdom.]

s [" Pollio." — In the original MS. " Rogers."]

4 " Turn quoque marmorea caput a cervice revulsuro,

Gurgite cum medio portans (Eagrius Hebrus,
Volveret Eurvdicen vox ipsa, et frfgida lingua;
Ah, miseram Eurydicen ! anlma fugiente vocabat;
Eurydicen toto refcrebant flumine ripro."

Oeorgtc. iv. 523.

* 1 beg Nathaniel's pardon: he is not a cobbler; if is a tailor, but begged Capel Lofft to sink the profession in his

preface to two pair of panta psha I — of cantos, which he

wished the public to try on ; but the sieve of a patron let it out, and so far saved the expense of an advertisement to his

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Though without genius, and a native vein
Of wit, we loathe an artificial strain —
Tet art and nature join'd will win the prize,
Unless they act like us and our allies.

The youth who trains to ride, or run a race,
Must bear privations with unruffled face,
Be call'd to labour when he thinks to dine.
And, harder still, leave wenching and his wine.
Ladies who sing, at least who sing at sight,
Have followed music through her farthest flight;
But rhymers tell you neither more nor less,
"I've got a pretty poem for the press;"
And that's enough; then write and print so fast; —
If Satan take the hindmost, who'd be last?
They storm the types, they publish, one and all,
They leap the counter, and they leave the stall.
Provincial maidens, men of high command,
Yea, baronets have ink'd the bloody hand ! -
Cash cannot quell them; Pollio3 play'd this prank,
(Then Phoebus first found credit in a bank !)
Not all the living only, but the dead,
Fool on, as fluent as an Orpheus' head;4
Damn'd all their days, they posthumously thrive —
Dug up from dust, though buried when alive!
Reviews record this epidemic crime,
Those Books of Martyrs to the rage for rhyme.
Alas! woe worth the scribbler! often seen
In Morning Post, or Monthly Magazine.
There lurk his earlier lays; but soon, hot-pressM.
Behold a quarto I—Tarts must tell the rest.
Then leave, ye wise, the lyre's precarious chords
To muse-mad baronets, or madder lords,
Or country' Crispins, now grown somewhat stale,
Twin Doric minstrels, drunk with Doric ale 1
Hark to those notes, narcotically soft
The cobbler-laureats 4 sing to Capel Lofft!5
Till, lo! that modern Midas, as he hears,
Adds an ell growth to his egregious cars!

Sit tibi Musa 1 > i .v solent, et cantor Apollo.

Natura fieret laudabiie cabmen, an arte,
Quassitum eat: ego nec studium sine divite vena.
Nec rude quid prosit video ingenium ; altcrius sic
Altera poscit opem res, ct conjurat amice.
Qui studet optatatn cursu contingere metam,
Multa tulit fecitque puer ; sudavit ct alsit;
Abstinuit Venere et vino: qui Pythia cantat
Tibicen, didicit prlus, extimuitque magistrum.
Nunc satis est dixissc; Ego mira poemata pango:
Occupet extromum scabies ; mihi turpe reunqui est,
Et quod non didici, sane ncscire fateri.

some education, and no profession; but these Arcadscas (" Arcades ambo " — bumpkins botil) send out their native nonsense without the smallest alloy, and leave all the shoes and smallclothes in tho parish unrepaired, to patch up Elegies on Enclosures and Paeans to Gunpowder. Sitting on a shopboard, they describe fields of battle, when the only blood they ever saw was shed from the finger ; and an" Essay oa War " is produced by the ninth part of a " poet."

"And own that nine such poets made a Tate."

Did Nathan ever read that line of Pope? and if he did, wby not take it as his motto ?— [See ante, p. 432. note.]

* This well meaning gentleman has spoiled s shoemakers, and been accessory to the | many of the industrious poor. Nathan his brother Bobby have set all Somersetshire i has the malady confined itself to one county, (who once was wiser) has caught the contagion of p and decoyed a poor fellow named Blackest into poetry; he died during the operation, leaving one child and two lumes of *' Remains utterly destitute. The girl. If don't take a poetical twist, and come forth as a shoe-nukjrt^: Sappho, may do well; but the M tragedies" are as rlctecry as it they had been the offspring of an Earl or a Seatosaiacx

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There lives one druid, who prepares in time, '*Gain3t future feuds his poor revenge of rhyme j

Raeki his dull memory, and his duller muse,
I To publish faults which friendship should excuse.
J If friendship's nothing, self-regard might teach
[ More polish'd usage of his parts of speech.
But what is shame, or what is aught to him?
He vents his spleen, or gratifies his whim.
Some fancied slight has roused his lurking hate,
Some folly cross'd, some jest, or some debate;
Up to his den Sir Scribbler hies, and soon
The gather'd gall is voided In lampoon.
Perhaps at some pert speech youVe dared to frown,
Perhaps your poem may have pleased the town:
If so, alas!'t is nature in the man —
May Heaven forgive you, for he never can!
Then be it so; and may his withering bays
Bloom fresh in satire, though they fade In praise!
While his lost songs no more shall steep and stink,
The dullest, fattest weeds on Lethe's brink,
But springing upwards from the sluggish mould,
Be (what they never were before) be—sold 1
Should some rich bard (but such I monster now,
In modem physics, we can scarce allow),
Should some pretending scribbler of the court.
Some rhyming peer i — there's plenty of the sort - —
All but one poor dependent priest withdrawn,
(Ah : too regardless of his chaplain's yawn !)
Condemn the unlucky curate to recite
Their last dramatic work by candle-light,
How would the preacher turn each rueful leaf,
Dull as his sermons, but not half so brief:

■ ■ - - ■ SI cumins coniles,
Nunquam te fallant anlmi sub vulpe latcntes.
Quintilio si quid recitares, Corrige, sodes,
Hoc (aiebat) et hoc: melius te posse negarcs,
Bis terque expertum frustra, delere jubebat,
Et male tornatos incudi reddere versus.

prize poet. The patrons of this poor lad are certainly answerable for his end; and it ought to be an indictable offence. But this is the least they have done: for, by a refinement of barbarity, they hare made the (late) man posthumously ridiculous, by printing what he would have had sense enough J Deter to print himself. Certes these rakers of " Remains" come under the statute against " resurrection men." What does it signify whether a poor dear dead dunce is to be stuck m> m Surgeons' or in Stationers' Hail? Is it so bad to unearth his bones as his blunders? Is it not better to gibbet his body oo a heath, than his soul in an octavo ?" We know what we Are, but we know not what we may be ;" and it is to be hoped we never shall know, If a man who has passed through life I with a sort of eclat, is to find himself a mountebank on the j other side of Styx, and made, like poor Joe Blackett, the , laughing-stock of purgatory. The plea of publication is to provide for the child; now, might not some of this " Sutor ultra Crepidam's " friends and seducers have done a decent action without inveigling Pratt into biography? And then bis inscription split into so many modicums I — " To the Duchess of Somuch, the Right Hon. So-and-So, and Mrs. and Miss Somebody, these volumes are, &c. &c." — why, this is doling out the " soft milk of dedication " in gills,— there Is but a quart, and he divides it among a dozen. Why, Pratt, hadst thou not a puff left? Dost thou think six families of distinction can share this in quiet? There is a child, a book, and a dedication: send the girl to her grace, the volumes to the grocer, and the dedication to the devil [See

ante, p. 432.]

I t [In the original MS

i ** Some rhyming peer—Carlisle or Carysfort."

i J To which is subjoined this note:—" Of 'John Joshua, Karl of

II Carysfort' 1 know nothing at present, but from an advertisement in an old newspaper of certain Poems and Tragedies by

I his Lordship, which I taw by accident in the Morea. Being a rhymer himself, he will forgive the liberty I take with his

i l name, seeing, as he must, how very commodious it is at the

II close of that couplet; and as for what follows and goes before, let him place it to the account of the other Thane;

I, since I cannot, under these circumstances, augur pro or con

Give light to passages too much in shade,

Nor let a doubt obscure one verse you *ve made;

Your friend's " a Johnson," not to leave one word,

However trifling, which may seem absurd;

Such erring trifles lead to serious ills,

And furnish food for criticsI, or their quills.

As the Scotch flddle, with its touching tune,
Or the sad influence of the angry moon,
All men avoid bad writers* ready tongues.
As yawning waiters fly 2 Fitzscribble'ss lungs;
Yet on he mouths—ten minutes—tedious each
As prelate's homily, or placeman's speech;
Long as the last years of a lingering lease,
When riot pauses until rents increase.
While such a minstrel, muttering fustian, strays
O'er hedge and ditch, through unfrequented ways,
If by some chance he walks into a well,
And shouts for succour with stentorian yell,
"A rope I help, Christians, as ye hope for grace!"
Nor woman, man, nor child will stir a pace;
For there his carcass he might freely fling,
From freniy, or the humour of the thing.
Though this has happen'd to more hards than one;
I'll tell you Budgell's story,—and have done.

Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget;
Ai - net ombiguc dictum; mutanda notabit;
Fiet Aristarchus: nee dicct, Cur ego amicum
Oflendam In migis ? has nuga; ieria ducent
In mala dcrlsum semel exceptumque sinistra.

I t mala quern scabies aut.morbus regius urguct,
Aut fanaticus error ct iracunda Diana,
Vesanum tetiglsse timent fugiuntque poetam.
Qui sapiunt; agitant pueri, mcautique scquuntur.
Hie dum sublimes versus ructatur, ct errat,
Si veluti merulls Intentus decidlt auceps
In puteum, foveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum
Clnmet, lo cives! non sit qui tollerc curet.
SI quls curet opem fcrre, ct demittere funem.
Qui scis an prudens hue se dejicerit, atquc

1 "A crust for the critics."—Baycs, in the " Rehearsal."

s And tho "waiters" are the only fortunate people who can " fly" from them; all the rest, viz. the sad subscribers to the "Literary Fund," being compelled, by courtesy, to sit out the recitation without a hope of exclaiming, " Sic" (that Is, by choking Fiti with bad wine, or worse poetry) " me servavit Apollo I"

3 [" Fitz scribble," originally "Fitzgerald." See ante* p. 421.]

4 On his table were found these words . "What Cato didi and Addison approved, cannot be wrong." But Addison did not" approve; and if he had, it would not have mended the matter. He had invited his daughter on the same waterparty; but Miss Budgell, by some accident, escaped this last paternal attention.' Thus fell the sycophant of " Atticus," and the enemy of Pope !—[Eustace Budgell, a friend and relative of Addison's, " leapt into the Thames " to escape a

firosccution, on account of forging the will of Dr. Tindal; n which Eustace had provided himself with a legacy of two thousand pounds. To this Pope alludes —

"Let Budgell charge low Grub-street on my quill.
And write whate'er he please —except my will."]

9 [" We talked (says Boswell) ofa man's drowning himself. — Johnson. * I should never think it time to make away with myself.' I put the case of Eustace Budgell, who was accused of forging a will, and sunk himself in the Thames, before the trial of its authenticity came on. 4 Suppose, Sir,' said I, 'that a man is absolutely sure that, if he lives a few days longer, he shall be detected in a fraud, the consequence of which will be utter disgrace, and oxpulsion from society.'

Budgell, a rogue and rhymester, for no good,
(Unless his case be much misunderstood,)
When teased with creditors* continual claims,
"To die like Cato*," leapt into the Thames!
And therefore be It lawful through the town
For any bard to poison, hang, or drown. b
Who saves the intended suicide receives
Small thanks from him who loathes the life hi

And, sooth to say, mad poets must not lose
The glory of that death they freely chose.

Nor is it certain that some sorts of verse
Prick not the poet's conscience as a curse;
Dosed 6 with vile drams on Sunday he was found.
Or got a child on consecrated ground!
And hence is haunted with a rhyming rage —
Fear'd like a bear just bursting from his cage.
If free, all fly his versifying fit.
Fatal at once to simpleton or wit:
But Aim, unhappy! whom he seizes,—Aim
He flays with recitation limb by limb;
Probes to the quick where'er he makes his breach.
And gorges like a lawyer—or a leech. 1

Serrari nollt? Dlcam: SIcullque poets
Narrabo interitum. Deus immortalis haberi
Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus
Insilult; sit Jus, Hceatque perire poetU:
Invitum qui servat, idem facitoccidenti.
N'ec semel hoc fecit; nec, si retractus erft, jam
Fiet homo, et ponet famosee mortis amorem.
Nec satis apparet cur versus factitet: utrum
Minxerit In patrios clneres, an triste bidental
Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus,
Objectos caveae valult si frangere clathros,
Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.
Quern vero arripuit, tenet, occidltque legendo.
Non raissura cutem, nisi plena cruoris, iurudo.

Johnson. 'Then, Sir, let him go abroad to a distant country; let him go to some place where he is not known. Don't fat him go to the devil, where he i,> known.* "—Se* voL It. p. 50. ed. 1836.]

6 If "dosed with," &c. be censured as low, I bet refer to the original for somethiug still lower; and If any reader will translate "Minxerit in patrios cioeres," &e. into a decent couplet, I will Insert said couplet in lieu of the present.

? [In tracing the fortunes of men, It Is not a little-curious to observe, how often the course of a whole life has depended on one single step. Had Lord Byron persisted in his original purpose of giving this poem to the press. Instead of Chflde Harold, It is more than probable that he would have been lost, as a great poet, to the world. Inferior as this Paraphrase is, in every respect, to his former Satire, and, in some places, erea descending below the level of under-graduate versifiers, its failure, there can be little doubt, would have and signal;—his former assailants would have r advantage over him, and either, in the bitterness of his mortification, he would have flung Childe Harold Into the fire . or, had he summoned up sufficient confidence to publish that poem, its reception, even if sufficient to retrieve him in the eyes of the public and his own, could never have, at all, resembled that explosion of success, — that instantaneous and universal acclaim of admiration, into which, coming, as it were, fresh from the land of song, he surprised the world, and in the midst of which he was borne, buoyant and selfassured, along, through a succession of new triumphs, each more splendid than the last. Happily, the better judgment of his friends averted such a risk. — Moore.]

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