Hor. De Arte Poet.

Athens. Capuchin Convent, March 12, 1811.(2)
WHO would not laugh, if Lawrence, hired to grace
His costly canvass with each flatter'd face,
Abused his art, till Nature, with a blush,
Saw cits grow centaurs underneath his brush?
Or, should some limner join, for show or sale,
A maid of honour to a mermaid's tail?

Or low Dubost (3)—as once the world has seen-
Degrade God's creatures in his graphic spleen?
Not all that forced politeness, which defends
Fools in their faults, could gag his grinning friends.

HUMANO capiti cervicem pictor equinam Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas, Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne; Spectatum admissi risum teneatis, amici? Credite, Pisones, isti tabule fore librum Persimilem, cujus, velut ægri somnia, vanæ

(1) Authors are apt, it is said, to estimate their per formances more according to the trouble they have cost themselves, than the pleasure they afford to the public; and it is only in this way that we can pretend to account for the extraordinary value which Lord Byron attached, even many long years after they were written, to these Hints from Horace. The business of translating Horace has hitherto been a hopeless one; and notwithstanding the brilliant cleverness of some passages, in both Pope's and Swift's Imitations of him, there had been, on the whole, very little to encourage any one to meddie seriously even with that less difficult department. It is, comparatively, an easy affair to transfer the effect, or something like the effect, of the majestic declamations of Juvenal; but the Horatian satire is cast in a mould of such exquisite delicacy -uniting perfect ease with perfect elegance throughoutas has hitherto defied all the skill of the moderns. Lord Byron, however, having composed this piece at Athens, in 1811, and brought it home in the same desk with the first two cantos of Childe Harold, appears to have, on his arrival in London, contemplated its publication as far more likely to increase his reputation than that of his original poem. Perhaps Milton's preference of the Paradise Regained over the Paradise Lost is not a more decisive example of the extent to which a great author may mistake the source of his greatness.

Lord Byron was prevented from publishing these lines, by a feeling which, considering his high notion of their merit, does him honour. By accident, or nearly so, the | Harold came out before the Hints; and the reception of the former was so flattering to Lord Byron, that it could scarcely fail to take off, for the time, the edge of his appetite for literary bitterness. In short, he found himself mixing constantly in society with persons who had-from good sense, or good-nature, or from both-overlooked the petulancies of his English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, and felt, as he said, that he should be "heaping coals of fire on his head" if he were to persist in bringing forth a continuation of his juvenile lampoon. Nine years had passed ere he is found writing thus to Mr. Murray:-"Get from Mr. Hobhouse, and send me, a proof of my Hints from Horace; it has now the nonum prematur in annum com

Fielding's Amelia.

Believe me, Moschus, (4) like that picture seems
The book which, sillier than a sick man's dreams,
Displays a crowd of figures incomplete,
Poetic nightmares, without head or feet.

Poets and painters, as all artists (5) know,
May shoot a little with a lengthen'd bow;
We claim this mutual mercy for our task,
And grant in turn the pardon which we ask;
But make not monsters spring from gentle dams-
Birds breed not vipers, tigers nurse not lambs.

Fingentur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni
Reddatur formæ. "Pictoribus atque poetis
Quidlibet andendi semper fuit æqua potestas."
Scimus, et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim :
Sed non ut placidis coeant immitia; non ut
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.

As

plete for its production. I have a notion that, with some omissions of names and passages, it will do; and I could put my late observations for Pope amongst the notes. far as versification goes, it is good; and, in looking back at what I wrote about that period, I am astonished to see how little I have trained on. I wrote better then than now; but that comes of my having fallen into the atrocious bad taste of the times." On hearing, however, that, in Mr. Hobhouse's opinion, the iambics would require "a good deal of slashing" to suit the times, the notion of printing them was once more abandoned. They were first published, there. fore, in 1831, seven years after the poet's death.-L. E.

(2) The date of this Satire has given rise to Moore's astonishment that Byron, "as if in utter defiance of the 'genius loci,'" should have penned in such a place such a production, "impregnated as it is with London life from beginning to end.”— P. E.

(3) In an English newspaper, which finds its way abroad wherever there are Englishmen, I read an account of this dirty dauber's caricature of Mr. Has a "beast," and the consequent action, etc. The circumstance is, probably, too well known to require further comment.-[The gentle man here alluded to was Thomas Hope, the author of Anastasius, and one of the most munificent patrons of art this country ever possessed. Having, somehow, offended an unprincipled French painter, by name Dubost, that adventurer revenged himself by a picture called "Beauty and the Beast," in which Mr. Hope and his lady were represented according to the well-known fairy story. The picture bad too much malice not to succeed; and, to the disgrace of John Bull, the exhibition of it is said to have fetched thirty pounds in a day. A brother of Mrs. Hope thrust his sword through the canvass; and M. Dubost had the consolation to get five pounds damages. The affair made much noise at the time, though Mr. Hope had not then placed himself on that seat of literary eminence which he afterwards attained. Probably, indeed, no man's reputation in the world was ever so suddenly and completely altered, as his was by the appearance of his magnificent romance. -L. E.

(4) "Moschus."-In the original MS., "Hobhouse."-L. E. "All artists."-Originally, "We scribblers."-L. E.

A labour'd long exordium sometimes tends (Like patriot speeches) but to paltry ends; And nonsense in a lofty note goes down, As pertness passes with a legal gown: Thus many a bard describes in pompous strain The clear brook babbling through the goodly plain : The groves of Granta, and her gothic halls, [walls; King's Coll., Cam's stream, stain'd windows, and old Or, in adventurous numbers, neatly aims To paint a rainbow, or-the river Thames. (1)

You sketch a tree, and so perhaps may shineBut daub a shipwreck like an alehouse sign; You plan a vase-it dwindles to a pot, Then glide down Grub-street-fasting and forgot; Laugh'd into Lethe by some quaint Review, Whose wit is never troublesome till-true. (2)

In fine, to whatsoever you aspire, Let it at least be simple and entire.

The greater portion of the rhyming tribe (Give ear, my friend, for thou hast been a scribe) Are led astray by some peculiar lure. I labour to be brief--become obscure; One falls while following elegance too fast; Another soars, inflated with bombast; Too low a third crawls on, afraid to fly, He spins his subject to satiety: Absurdly varying, he at last engraves

Fish in the woods, and boars beneath the waves!

Unless your care's exact, your judgment nice, The flight from folly leads but into vice; None are complete, all wanting in some part, Like certain tailors, limited in art. For galligaskins Slowshears is your man; But coats must claim another artisan. (3) Now this to me, I own, seems much the same As Vulcan's feet to bear Apollo's frame; (4)

Incœptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis Purpureus, late qui splendeat, unus et alter Assuitur pannus; cum lucus et ara Dianæ,

Et properantis aquæ per amœnos ambitus agros,
Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius describitur arcus.
Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortasse cupressum
Scis simulare: quid hoc, si fractis enatat exspes
Navibus, were dato qui pingitur? amphora cœpit
Institui; currente rotâ cur urceus exit?
Denique sit quod vis, simplex duntaxat et unum.
Maxima pars vatum, pater, et juvenes patre digni,
Decipimur specie recti. Brevis esse laboro,
Obscurus fio: sectantem levia, nervi
Deficiunt animique: professus grandia, turget:
Serpit humi, tutus nimium, timidusque procellæ.
Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam,
Delphinum sylvis appingit, fluctibus aprum.

In vitium ducit culpæ fuga, si caret arte.
Æmilium circa ludum faber imus et ungues
Exprimet, et molles imitabitur ære capillos;
Infelix operis summa, quia ponere totum
Nesciet. Hunc ego me, si quid componere curem,
Non magis esse velim, quam pravo vivere naso,
Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.

(1) "Where pure description held the place of sense."Pope.

(2) "This is pointed, and felicitously expressed." Moore. -L. E.

(3) Mere common mortals were commonly content with one tailor and with one bill, but the more particular gentlemen found it impossible to confide their lower garments

Or, with a fair complexion, to expose
Black eyes, black ringlets, but-a bottle-nose!

Dear authors! suit your topics to your strength,
And ponder well your subject, and its length;
Nor lift your load, before you're quite aware
What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear.
But lucid order, and Wit's siren voice,
Await the poet, skilful in his choice;
With native eloquence he soars along,
Grace in his thoughts, and music in his song.

Let judgment teach him wisely to combine
With future parts the now omitted line:
This shall the author choose, or that reject,
Precise in style, and cautious to select;
Nor slight applause will candid pens afford
To him who furnishes a wanting word.
Then fear not if 'tis needful to produce
Some term unknown, or obsolete in use,
(As Pitt (5) has furnish'd us a word or two,
Which lexicographers declined to do;)
So you indeed, with care,-(but be content
To take this license rarely)—may invent.
New words find credit in these latter days,
If neatly grafted on a Gallic phrase.
What Chaucer, Spenser did, we scarce refuse
To Dryden's or to Pope's maturer muse.
If you can add a little, say why not,

As well as William Pitt, and Walter Scott?
Since they, by force of rhyme and force of lungs,
Enrich'd our island's ill-united tongues;
'Tis then and shall be-lawful to present
Reform in writing, as in parliament.

As forests shed their foliage by degrees,
So fade expressions which in season please;
And we and ours, alas! are due to fate,
And works and words but dwindle to a date.
Though as a monarch nods, and commerce calls,
Impetuous rivers stagnate in canals;

Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, æquam Viribus; et versate diu, quid ferre recusent, Quid valeant humeri. Cui lecta potenter erit res, Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucidus ordo.

Ordinis hæc virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor, Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici, Pleraque differat, et præsens in tempus omittat; Hoc amet, hoc spernat promissi carminis auctor. In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis, Dixeris egregie, notum si callida verbum Reddiderit junctura novum. Si forte necesse est Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum, Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis Continget; dabiturque licentia sumpta pudenter. Et nova fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si Græco fonte cadant, parce detorta. Quid autem Cæcilio, Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademptum Virgilio, Varioque? Ego cur, acquirere pauca Si possum, invideor; cum lingua Catonis et Enni Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum Nomina protulerit? Licuit, semperque licebit, Signatum præsente nota producere nomen. Ut silvæ foliis pronos mutantur in annos; Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit ætas,

to the makers of their body-clothes. I speak of the beginning of 1800: what reform may have since taken place I neither know, nor desire to know.

(4) MS. "As one leg perfect, and the other lame."--L. E. (5) Mr. Pitt was liberal in his additions to our parliamentary tongue; as may be seen in many publications, particularly the Edinburgh Review.

Though swamps subdued, and marshes drain'd, sustain
The heavy ploughshare and the yellow grain,
And rising ports along the busy shore
Protect the vessel from old Ocean's roar,
All, all must perish; but, surviving last,
The love of letters half preserves the past.
True, some decay, yet not a few revive; (1)
Though those shall sink which now appear to thrive,
As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway
Our life and language must alike obey.

The immortal wars which gods and angels wage, Are they not shown in Milton's sacred page? His strain will teach what numbers best belong To themes celestial told in epic song.

The slow sad stanza will correctly paint The lover's anguish, or the friend's complaint. But which deserves the laurel-rhyme or blank? Which holds on Helicon the higher rank? Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute This point, as puzzling as a Chancery suit.

Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen. You doubt-see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's dean. (2)

Et juvenum ritu florent modo nata, vigentque.
Debemur morti nos nostraque: sive receptus
Terra Neptunus classes aquilonibus arcet,
Regis opus; sterilisve diu palus, aptaque remis,
Vicinas urbes alit, et grave sentit aratrum:
Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,
Doctus iter melius: mortalia facta peribunt;
Nedum sermonum stet bonos, et gratia vivax.
Multa renascentur, quæ jam cecidere, cadentque,
Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula, si volet usus,
Quem penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.
Res gestæ regumque ducumque et tristia bella,
Quo scribi possent numero monstravit Homerus.
Versibus impariter junctis querimonia prinum;
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,
Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.
Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo;
Hunc socci cepere pedem grandesque cothurni,
Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares
Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.
Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque deorum,

(I) Old ballads, old plays, and old women's stories, are at present in as much request as old wine or new speeches. In fact, this is the millennium of black letter: thanks to our Hebers, Webers, and Scotts!-[There was considerable malice in thus putting Weber, a poor German back, a mere amanuensis of Sir Walter Scott, between the two other names.-L. E.]

(2) Mac Flecknoe, the Dunciad, and all Swift's lampooning ballads. Whatever their other works may be, these originated in personal feelings, and angry retort on unworthy rivals; and though the ability of these satires elevates the poetical, their poignancy detracts from the personal, character of the writers.-[For particulars of Dryden's feud with his successor in the laureateship, Shadwell, whom he has immortalised under the name of Mac Flecknoe, and also as Og, in the second part of Absalom and Achitophel, and for the literary squabbles in which Swift and Pope were engaged, the reader must turn to the lives and works of these three great writers. See also Mr. D'Israeli's painfully-interesting book on The Quarrels of Authors.-L. E.]

(3) Like Dr. Johnson, Lord Byron maintained the excellence of rhyme over blank verse in English poetry. "Blank verse," he says, in his long-lost letter to the editor of Blackwood's Magazine, "unless in the drama, no one except Milton ever wrote who could rhyme. I am aware that Johnson has said, after some hesitation, that he could not prevail upon himself to wish that Milton had been a rhymer.' The opinions of that truly great man, whom, like Pope, it is the present fashion to decry, will ever be received by me

Blank verse (3) is now, with one consent, allied To Tragedy, and rarely quits her side. Though mad Almanzor rhymed in Dryden's days, No sing-song hero rants in modern plays; While modest Comedy her verse foregoes For jest and pun (4) in very middling prose. Nor that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse, Or lose one point, because they wrote in verse; But so Thalia pleases to appear,

Poor virgin! damn'd some twenty times a-year!

Whate'er the scene, let this advice have weight:Adapt your language to your hero's state. At times Melpomene forgets to groan, And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone;

Nor unregarded will the act pass by

Where angry Townly (5) lifts his voice on high.
Again, our Shakspeare limits verse to kings,
When common prose will serve for common things;
And lively Hal resigns heroic ire

To "hallooing Hotspur (6)" and the sceptred sire.

"Tis not enough, ye bards, with all your art, To polish poems;-they must touch the heart. Where'er the scene be laid, whate'er the song, Still let it bear the hearer's soul along;

Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.

Descriptas servare vices operumque colores,
Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor?
Cur nescire, pudens prave, quam discere malo?
Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult;
Indignatur item privatis, ac prope socco
Dignis carminibus narrari cœna Thyestæ.
Singula quæque locum teneant sortita decenter.
Interdum tamen et vocem comedia tollit,
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore:
Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri.
Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul, uterque
Projicit ampullas, et sesquipedalia verba;
Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela.

Non satis est pulchra esse poemata; dulcia sunto,
Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent
Humani vultus. Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi; tunc tua me infortunia lædent.
Telephe, vel Peleu: male si mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia mæstum

with that deference which time will restore to him from all ; but, with all humility, I am not persuaded that the Paradise Lost would not have been more nobly conveyed to posterity, not perhaps in heroic couplets,—although even they could sustain the subject, if well balanced,-but in the stanza of Spenser, or of Tasso, or in the terza rima of Dante, which the powers of Milton could easily have grafted on our language. The Seasons of Thomson would have been better in rhyme, although still inferior to his Castle of Indolence; and Mr. Southey's Joan of Arc no worse."-L. E.

(4) With all the vulgar applause and critical abhorrence of puns, they have Aristotle on their side; who permits them to orators, and gives them consequence by a grave disquisition.["Cicero also," says Addison, "has sprinkled several of his works with them; and, in his book on Oratory, quotes abundance of sayings as pieces of wit, which, upon examination, prove arrant puns. But the age in which the pun chiefly flourished was in the reign of James the First, who was himself a tolerable punster, and made very few bishops or privy counsellors that had not some time or other signalised themselves by a clinch, or a conundrum. The sermons of Bishop Andrews, and the tragedies of Shakspeare, are full of them. The sinner was punned into repentance by the former; as, in the latter, nothing is more usual than to see a hero weeping and quibbling for a dozen lines together."-L. E.]

(5) In Vanbrugh's comedy of the Provoked Husband.-L. E. (6) "And in his ear I'll halloo, Mortimer !"-I Henry IV.

Command your audience or to smile or weep, Whiche'er may please you-any thing but sleep. The poet claims our tears; but, by his leave, Before I shed them, let me see him grieve.

If banish'd Romeo feign'd nor sigh nor tear, Lull'd by his languor, I should sleep or sneer. Sad words, no doubt, become a serious face, And men look angry in the proper place. At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly, And sentiment prescribes a pensive eye; For nature form'd at first the inward man, And actors copy nature-when they can. She bids the beating heart with rapture bound, Raised to the stars, or levell'd with the ground; And for expression's aid, 'tis said, or sung, She gave our mind's interpreter-the tongue, Who, worn with use, of late would fain dispense (At least in theatres) with common sense; O'erwhelm with sound the boxes, gallery, pit, And raise a laugh with any thing-but wit.

To skilful writers it will much import, [court; Whence spring their scenes, from common life or Whether they seek applause by smile or tear, To draw a "Lying Valet," or a "Lear," A sage, or rakish youngster wild from school, A wandering "Peregrine," or plain "John Bull;"

Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum;
Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.
Format enim natura prius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram;
Aut ad humum mærore gravi deducit, et angit;
Post effert animi motus interprete lingua.
Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,
Romani tollent equites peditesque cachinnum.
Intererit multum, Davusne loquatur, an Heros;
Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventa
Fervidus; an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix;
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;
Colchus, an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.
Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge
Scriptor. Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem;

(1) See the Rehearsal:—

"Johnson. Pray, Mr. Bayes, who is that Drawcansir? "Bayes. Why, sir, a great hero, that frights his mistress, snubs up kings, baffles armies, and does what he will, without regard to numbers, good sense, or justice."-L.E.

(2) "Difficile est proprie communia dicere."--Madame Dacier. Madame de Sévigné, Boileau, and others, have left their dispute on the meaning of this passage in a tract considerably longer than the poem of Horace. It is printed at the close of the eleventh volume of Madame de Sevigne's Letters, edited by Grouvelle, Paris, 1806. Presuming that all who can construe may venture an opinion on such subjects, particularly as so many who can not have taken the same liberty, I should have held my "farthing candle" as awkwardly as another, had not my respect for the wits of Louis the Fourteenth's Augustan siècle induced me to subjoin these illustrious authorities. Ist, Boileau: "Il est difficile de traiter des sujets qui sont à la portée de tout le monde d'une manière qui vous les rende propres, ce qui s'appelle s'approprier un sujet par le tour qu'on y donne." 2dly, Batteux: "Mais il est bien difficile de donner des traits propres et individuels aux êtres purement possibles." 3dly, Dacier: "Il est difficile de traiter convenablement ces caractères que tout le monde peut inventer." Mde. de Sevigne's opinion and translation, consisting of some thirty pages, I omit, particularly as M. Grouvelle observes, "La chose est bien remarquable, aucune de ces diverses interprétations ne parait être la veritable." But, by way of

All persons please when nature's voice prevails,
Scottish or Irish, born in Wilts or Wales.

Or follow common fame, or forge a plot :
Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not?
One precept serves to regulate the scene:-
Make it appear as if it might have been.

If some Drawcansir (1) you aspire to draw,
Present him raving, and above all law:
If female furies in your scheme are plann'd,
Macbeth's fierce dame is ready to your hand;
For tears and treachery, for good or evil,
Constance, King Richard, Hamlet, and the Devil!
But if a new design you dare essay,
And freely wander from the beaten way,
True to your characters, till all be past,
Preserve consistency from first to last.

"Tis hard to venture where our betters fail, Or lend fresh interest to a twice-told tale; And yet, perchance, 'tis wiser to prefer

A hackney'd plot, than choose a new, and err;
Yet copy not too closely, but record,

More justly, thought for thought than word for word;
Nor trace your prototype through narrow ways,
But only follow where he merits praise.

For you, young bard! whom luckless fate may
To tremble on the nod of all who read,

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,
Jura neget sibi mata, nihil non arroget armis.
Sit Medea ferox invictaque; flebilis Ino;
Perfidus Ixion; lo vaga; tristis Orestes.

Si quid inexpertum scenæ committis, et audes Personam formare novam, servetur ad imum Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

Difficile est proprie communia dicere; (2) tuque Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus, Quam si proferres ignota indictaque primus. Publica materies privati juris erit, si Nec circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem; Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus Interpres, nec desilies imitator in arctum, Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet, aut operis lex. Nec sic incipies, ut scriptor Cyclicus olim:

lead

comfort, it seems, fifty years afterwards, "Le lumineux Dumarsais" made his appearance, to set Horace on his legs again, dissiper tous les nuages, et concilier tous les dissentimens ;" and some fifty years hence, somebody, still more luminous, will doubtless start up and demolish Dumarsais and his system on this weighty affair, as if he were no better than Ptolemy and Tycho, or his comments of no more consequence than astronomical calculations on the present comet. I am happy to say, "la longueur de la dissertation" of M. D. prevents M. G. from saying any more on the matA better poet than Boileau, and at least as good a scholar as Sévigne, has said,

ter.

"A little learning is a dangerons thing." And, by this comparison of comments, it may be perceived how a good deal may be rendered as perilous to the proprietors. [Dr. Johnson gave the interpretation thus :-"He means that it is difficult to appropriate to particular persons qualities which are common to all mankind, as Homer has done."-"It seems to result from the whole discussion," says Mr. Croker, "that, in the ordinary meaning of the words, the passage is obscure, and that, to make sense, we must either alter the words, or assign to them an unusual interpretation. All commentators are agreed, by the help of the context, what the general meaning must be ; but no one seems able verbum verbo reddere fidus inter pres.'" (Boswell, vol. iii. p. 438.) But, in our humble opinion, Boileau's translation is precisely that of this "fidus interpres."-L. E.}

Ere your first score of cantos time unrolls,
Beware-for God's sake, don't begin like Bowles! (1)|
"Awake a louder and a loftier strain,"—
And pray, what follows from his boiling brain?-
He sinks to Southey's level in a trice,
Whose epic mountains never fail in mice!
Not so of yore awoke your mighty sire
The temper'd warblings of his master-lyre;
Soft as the gentler breathing of the lute,
"Of man's first disobedience and the fruit"
He speaks, but, as his subject swells along,
Earth, heaven, and Hades echo with the song. (2)
Still to the midst of things he hastens on,
As if we witness'd all already done;
Leaves on his path whatever seems too mean
To raise the subject, or adorn the scene;
Gives, as each page improves upon the sight,

And truth and fiction with such art compounds, We know not where to fix their several bounds.

If you would please the public, deign to hear What soothes the many-headed monster's ear; If your heart triumph when the hands of all Applaud in thunder at the curtain's fall, Deserve those plaudits-study nature's page, And sketch the striking traits of every age; While varying man and varying years unfold Life's little tale, so oft, so vainly told. Observe his simple childhood's dawning days, His pranks, his prate, his playmates, and his plays; Till time at length the mannish tyro weans,

And prurient vice outstrips his tardy teens!

Behold him Freshman! forced no more to groan

"Fortunam Priami cantabo, et nobile bellum."
Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?
Parturient montes: nascetur ridiculus mus.
Quanto rectius hic, qui nil molitur inepte!

"Dic mihi, Musa, virum, captæ post tempora Troja,
Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes."
Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem
Cogitat, ut speciosa dehine miracula promat,
Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cyclope Charybdin.
Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,
Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo.
'Semper ad eventum festinat, et in medias res
Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit; et quæ

(1) About two years ago a young man, named Townsend, was announced by Mr. Cumberland' (in a review † since deceased) as being engaged in an epic poem to be entitled Armageddon. The plan and specimen promise much; but I hope neither to offend Mr. Townsend, nor his friends, by recommending to his attention the lines of Horace to which these rhymes allude. If Mr. Townsend succeeds in his undertaking, as there is reason to hope, how much will the world be indebted to Mr. Cumberland for bringing him before the public! But, till that eventful day arrives, it may be doubted whether the premature display of his plan (sublime as the ideas confessedly are) has not,-by raising ex. pectation too high, or diminishing curiosity, by developing his argument,- rather incurred the hazard of injuring Mr. Townsend's future prospects. Mr. Cumberland (whose talents I shall not depreciate by the humble tribute of my praise) and Mr. Townsend must not suppose me actuated by unworthy motives in this suggestion. I wish the author all the success he can wish himself, and shall be truly happy to see epic poetry weighed up from the bathos where it lies sunken with Southey, Cottle, Cowley (Mrs. or Abraham),

On the original MS. we find,-"This note was written" [at Athens] "before the author was apprised of Mr. Cumberland's death." The old litterateur died in May 1811, and had the honour to be buried in Westminster Abbey, and to be eulogised, while the company stood round the grave, in the following manly style by the then Dean, Dr. Vincent, his schoolfellow, and through life his friend : -"Good people! the person you see now deposited is Richard Cumberland, an author of no small merit: his writings were chiefly for the stage, but of strict moral tendency: they were not without faults, but they were not gross, abounding with oaths and libidinous expressions, as, I am shocked to observe, is the case of many of the present day. He wrote as much as any one: few wrote better; and his works will be held in the highest estimation, as long as the English language will be understood. He considered the theatre a school for moral improvement, and his remains are truly worthy of mingling with the illustrious dead which surround us." Read his prose subjects on divinity! there you will find the true Christian spirit of the man who trusted in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. May God forgive him his sins; and, at the resurrection of the just, receive him into everlasting glory!"-L. E.

+ The London Review, set up in 1309, under Mr. Cumberland's editorial care, did not outlive many numbers. He spoke great things in the prospectus, about the distinguishing feature of the journal; viz. its having the writer's name affixed to the articles. This plan has succeeded pretty well both in France and Germany, but has failed utterly as often as it has been tried in this country. It is needless, however, to go into any speculation on the principle here; for the London Review, whether sent into the world with or without names, must soon have died of the original disease of dulness.-L. E.

Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit:
Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,
Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Tu quid ego, et populus mecum desideret, audi.
Si plausoris eges aulæa manentis, et usque
Sessuri, donec cantor, "Vos plaudite," dicat;
Etatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores,
Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus et annis.
Reddere qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo
Signat humam; gestit paribus colludere, et iram
Colligit ac ponit temere, et mutatur in horas.
Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto,
Gaudet equis canibusque, et aprici gramine campi;

Ogilvy, Wilkie. Pye, and all the "dull of past and present days." Even if he is not a Milton, he may be better than Blackmore'; if not a Homer, an Antimachus. I should deem myself presumptuous, as a young man, in offering advice, were it not addressed to one still younger. Mr. Townsend has the greatest difficulties to encounter: but in conquering them he will find employment; in having conquered them, his reward. I know too well "the scribbler's scoff, the critic's contumely;" and I am afraid time will teach Mr. Townsend to know them better. Those who succeed, and those who do not, must bear this alike, and it is hard to say which have most of it. I trust that Mr. Townsend's share will be from enry-he will soon know mankind well enough not to attribute this expression to malice.-[This was penned at Athens. On his return to England Lord B. wrote to a friend "There is a sucking epic poet at Granta, a Mr. Townsend, protégé of the late Cumberland. Did you ever hear of him and bis Armageddon? I think his plan (the man I don't know) borders on the sublime; though, perhaps, the anticipation of the Last Day' is a little too daring: at least, it looks like telling the Almighty what he is to do; and might remind an ill-natured person of the line

And fools rush in where angels fear to tread.' But I don't mean to cavil-only other folks will; and he may bring all the lambs of Jacob Behmen about his ears. However, I hope he will bring it to a conclusion, though Milton is in his way."-All Lord Byron's anticipations, with regard to this poem, were realised to the very letter. To gratify the curiosity which had been excited, Mr. Townsend, in 1815, was induced to publish eight out of the twelve books of which it was to consist. "In the benevolence of his heart, Mr. Cumberland," he says, "bestowed praise on me, certainly too abundantly and prematurely; but I hope that any deficiency on my part may be imputed to the true cause my own inability to support a subject, under which the greatest mental powers must inevitably sink. My talents were neither equal to my own ambition, nor his zeal to serve me."—L. E.]

(2) "There is more of poetry in these verses upon Milton than in any other passage throughout the paraphrase." Moore.-L. E.

(3) Harvey, the circulator of the circulation of the blood, used to fling away Virgil in his ecstasy of admiration, and say, "the book had a devil." Now, such a character as I am copying would probably fling it away also, but rather