At this late* hour, such prurient ears as these?
Is thy poor pride contented to receive
Such transitory fame as fools can give?
Fools, who, unconscious of the critics' laws,
Rain in such showers their indistinct applause,
That THOU, e'en THOU, who livest upon renown,
And, with eternal puffs, insult'st the town,

Reason is ill refuted by

Is praise an evil? Is th
One so indifferent to its
As not to wish hereafte
And make a long futur
Rather than-

P. With

To pastry cooks and m

Art forced, at length, to check the idiot roar, And cry, "For heaven's sweet sake, no more, no O thou, who deign'st th more !" Thou know'st, when ch

"But why, (thou say'st,) why am I learn'd, why

fraught

With all the priest and all the sage have taught,
If the huge mass within my bosom pent
Must struggle there, despairing of a vent ?"
THOU learn'd! Alas, for learning! She is sped.
And hast thou dimm'd thy eyes, and rack'd thy

head,

And broke thy rest for THIS, for THIS alone?
And is thy knowledge nothing if not known?
O lost to sense!-But still, thou criest, 'tis sweet,
To hear "That's HE!" from every one we meet :
That's HE whom critic Bell declares divine,
For whom the fair diurnal laurels twine;
Whom magazines, reviews, conspire to praise,
And Greathead calls the Homer of our days.

F. And is it nothing, then, to hear our name
Thus blazon'd by the GENERAL VOICE of fame ?
P. Nay, it were every thing, did THAT dis-
pense

The sober verdict found by taste and sense :
But mark our jury. O'er the flowing bowl,
When wine has drown'd all energy of soul,
Ere FARO comes, (a dreary interval!)
For some fond fashionable lay they call
Here the spruce ensign, tottering on his chair,
With lisping accent, and affected air,
Recounts the wayward fatet of that poor poet,
Who, born for anguish, and disposed to show it,
Did yet so awkwardly his means employ,
That gaping fiends mistook his grief for joy!
Lost in amaze at language so divine,
The audience hiccup, and exclaim,
fine!"

Damn'd

*At this late hour-I learn from Della Crusca's lamentations, that he is declined into the vale of years; that the women say to him, as they formerly said to Anacreon, yɛpwv ɛt, and that Love, about two years since,

"Tore his name from his bright page, And gave it to approaching age." Recounts the wayward fate, &c.-In the INTERVIEW, see the British Album, the lover, finding his mistress inexorable, comforts himself, and justifies her, by boasting how well he can play the fool. And never did Don Quixote exhibit half so many extravagant tricks in the Sierra Morena, for the beaur yeux of his dulcinea, as our distracted amoroso threatens to perform for the no less beautiful ones of Anna Matilda.

"Yes, I will prove that I deserve my fate,

Was born for anguish, and was formed for hate;
With such transcendent wo will breathe my sigh,
That envying fiends shall think it ecstacy," &c.

rare)*

With random gleams o
Thou know'st too w

praise.

Not mine the soul whi
Ambitious of a poet's e
I haunt the sacred four
The grateful influence
And yet, my friend-
stow'd,
Mine eye has gliste
glow'd,

Yet, when I prostitute
The Euges which awa
May the sweet muse
stand,

And tear the strings in
Nor think that, while
Too much th' applause
For mark to what 'tis g
Mean though I am, if
-Is it not given to Es
To Topham's fustian.
To Morton's catchword

*Thou know'st, wher Cruscan can blunder! 1 ments on this unfortunat "Thou lowest of the Thou imp of satire, Who callest each c Alas! no: But this is o the preface of the Mævi had laid the poem aside claims, "Soh! it was tw Mr. Parsons is highly skill in driving a bargain it with his spectacles on blunder :-if he had read have seen that I never ta his own milking: no; i looked for sense in Mr. I with this solecism in ecor

of it produced the metam noticed, and which his 1 deplore.

† Morton's catchword.

of the bathos! I though bottom of it; but, as un d-n'd lie; for Holcroft, R beneath him. They hav

In the lowest and persevere in explori does them honour.

man comes and spreads a sumptuous If tragedy, th' impassion'd numbers now,

P

The Boke of gode Advice,'
For ekes and algates only deign to seek,
And live upon a whilome for a week.

Perplex'd with terms
I blunder on; till 'wi
Where'er I turn, on c

And can we, when such mope-eyed dolts are And call for Mandevi

placed

By thoughtless fashion on the throne of taste-
Say, can we wonder whence such jargon flows,
This motley fustian, neither verse nor prose,
This old, new language which defiles our page,
The refuse and the scum of every age?

Lo! Beaufoy* tells of Afric's barren sand,
In all the flowery phrase of fairy land:

TO ANTHONY PASQUIN, ESQ.

"Why dost thou tack, most simple Anthony,
The name of Pasquin to thy ribald strains?
Is it a fetch of wit, to let us see,

Thou, like that statue, art devoid of brains?

O for the good old t And every hour broug Our sires in unaffecteOf streams of amber, a Full of their theme, t And the plain tale wa Now all is changed! Less to display our su Whate'er we paint-E Heavens, how we sw Words of gigantic bul In rattling triads the E While points with po And the whole work

"But thou mistakest: for know, though Pasquin's head Is not THIS sad?

Be full as hard, and near as thick as thine,
Yet has the world, admiring, on it read

Many a keen gibe, and many a sportive line.
"While nothing from thy jobbernowl can spring
But impudence and filth; for out, alas!
Do what we will, 'tis still the same vile thing,
Within, all brick-dust-and without, all brass.
Then blot the name of Pasquin from thy page:
Thou seest it will not thy poor riff-raff sell.
Some other would'st thou take? I dare engage

John Williams, or Tom Fool, will do as well."
TONY has taken my friend's advice, and now sells, or
attempts to sell, his "riff-raff" under the name of JOHN
WILLIAMS.

It has been represented to me, that I should do well to
avoid all mention of this man, from a consideration, that
one so lost to every sense of decency and shame was a
fitter object for the beadle than the muse. This has in-
duced me to lay aside a second castigation which I had
prepared for him, though I do not think it expedient to
omit what I had formerly written.

Here on the rack of satire let him lie,

Fit garbage for the hell-hound infamy.

"Tis wondrous pitiful.
But for the poetry-O
I still aspire-nay, sm
You praise our sires,
force,

Their rhymes were vic
We want their streng
For that, and more, by
For instance-* Hast
Where yellow mornin
And bathes the landsc

"A voice seraphic gra
Wondering I gaze; w
More bright than daum
A godlike form advan

These lines, perhaps,
THE MIGHTY MOTHE

of water, to the long ascer (p. 289,) from whose infle got-from this scene, I s inveterate mountains of C

One word more. I am told that there are men so weak For Weston'st self cou as to deprecate this miserable object's abuse, and so vain, so despicably vain, as to tolerate his praise-for such I have nothing but pity;-though the fate of Hastings, see the "Pin-basket to the Children of Thespis," holds out a dreadful lesson to the latter:-but should there be a man or a woman, however high in rank, base enough to purchase the venal pen of this miscreant for the sake of traducing innocence and virtue, then I was about to threaten, but 'tis not necessary: the profligate cowards who employ Anthony can know no severer punishment than the support of a man whose acquaintance is infamy, and whose touch is poison.

* Lo! Beaufoy, &c." The feet are accommodated with shoes, and the head is protected by a-woollen night-cap." -AFRICAN ASSOCIATION, p. 139.

"From this scene of gladsome contrast, i. e. from the mountain of Zilau, (p. 288,) whose rugged sides are marked with scanty spots of brushwood, and enriched with stores

1 Shoes. By your leave, master critic, here is a small oversight in your quotation. The gentleman does not say their feet are accommodated with shoes, but with slippers. For the rest, accommodate, as I learn, is a scholar-like word, and a word of exceeding great propriety. "Accommo

"In the long course of veller is scarcely sensibl meager brushwood slight sterility, and diminish the

Hasten, &c.-This an taken from the "Laurel c great author most justly See p. 167.

† Weston.-This inde long employed in attacki in the Gentleman's Maga

Gildon, all the impudenc

rance of Curl and his ass

What the views of the bi ing cap in hand, and com of the temple, for nearly

ack venom at the dust of Pope. ccursed!-O memorable long, force in virtue or in song, ard! accept the grateful strain. e humblest of the tuneful train, ng heart, yet trembling hand, repay = pensive, many a sprightly lay! varied verse, from age to age, simple, and delight the sage;

er'd Weston, and his loathsome rhymes, nose of all succeeding times!

Inspired by genius, and inform'd by selisë;
THIS, the abortive progeny of pride,

And dulness, gentle pair, for aye allied;
Begotten without thought, born without pains,
The ropy drivel of rheumatic brains.

F. So let it be; and yet, methinks, my friend,
Silence were wise, where satire will not mend.
Why wound the feelings of our noble youth,
And grate their tender ears with odious truth?
They cherish Arno* and his flux of song,
And hate the man who tells 'em they are wrong.

But where, (for these, you seem to say, Your fate already I foresee. My lord, as of the high, heroic lay,)

the soft, the tender strains, which call oist eye, bow'd head, and lengthen'd v1?

Canst thou, Matilda, urge my fate,

e mourn thee? yes, and mourn too late! Fere decree! my maddening brain

= ponderous agony sustain;

rush, from vale to mountain run,

With cold respect, will freeze you from his board;
And his grace cry," Hence with that sapient sneer!
Hence we desire no currish critic here."

P. Enough. Thank heaven! my error now I see,
And all shall be divine, henceforth, for me.

* Of the talents of this spes altera Roma, this second hope of the age, the following stanzas will afford a sufficient specimen. They are taken from a ballad which

my mind's thick gloom obscure the Mr. Bell, an admirable judge of these matters, calls a

I know not. He cannot surely be weak Suppose that an obscure scribbler like this rzes to bring against our great poet, which vigilant malevolence of the Westons of the Or if ever, from the "natural goodness of his cherished so laudable a supposition, he ought it may cost him) to forego it: when, after ths' preparation, nothing is produced but an cusation taken from the most common edition ciad!

very mellifluous one; easy, artless, and unaffected."
"Gently o'er the rising billows

Softly steals the bird of night,
Rustling through the bending willows:
Fluttering pinions mark her flight.
"Whither now in silence bending,

Ruthless winds deny thee rest:
Chilling night-deus fast descending,
Glisten on thy downy breast.
"Seeking some kind hand to guide thee,
Wistful turns thy fearful eye;
Trembling as the willows hide thee,

Shelter'd from th' inclement sky."

en suggested to me, that this nightman of liteThe story of this poor owl, who was at one and the same Ens to reprint as much as can be collected of of the Dunciad.-If it be so, the dirty work of time at sea and on land, silent and noisy, sheltered and Pope may be previously necessary; and pre-exposed, is continued through a few more of these "melli

If must own, that he has shown uncommon
in the selection of the blind and outrageous
now so laboriously employed in it.
er be the design, the proceedings are by no
nsistent with the plan of a work which may
y be styled the charnel-house of reputation,
from the days of Lauder to the present, has
asperse every thing venerable among us--
ised Swift of lust, and Addison of drunkenness!
alted the ashes of Toup while they were yet
gibbeted poor Henderson alive: which affect-
ze the great and good Howard, while idolatry
al to him: and the moment he fell, gloriously
exercise of the most sublime virtue, attempted
ize him as a brute and a monster!

thou, Matilda, &c. vide Album, vol. ii.-Maay then, I'll never trust a madman again." It few minutes since, that Mr. Merry died for the ura Maria; and now is he about to do the same the love of Anna Matilda?

he ladies may say to such a swain, I know not; inly he is too prone to run wild, die, &c. &c. wed, is the combustible nature of this gentleman, kes fire at every female signature in the papers; member, that when Olaudo Equiano, who, for a not ill-featured, tried his hand at a soft sonnet, mistake subscribed it Olauda, Mr. Merry fell so

fluous" stanzas, which the reader, I doubt not, will readily forgive me for omitting; more especially if he reads the ORACLE, a paper honoured-as the grateful editor very properly has it-by the effusions of this "artless" gentle

man above all others.

N.B. On Doking again, I find the owl to be a nightingale !-N'importe.

It was said of Theophilus Cibber, (I think by Goldsmith,) that as he grew older, he grew never the better. Much the same (mutatis mutandis) may be said of the gentlemen of the Baviad. After an interval of two years, I find the "mellifluous" ARNO celebrating Mrs. Robinson's novel in strains like these.

"For the Oracle.

SONNET TO MRS. ROBINSON,

Upon reading her VANCENZA.

"What never-ceasing music! From the throne
Where sweetest Sensibility enshrined,
Pours out her tender triumphs, all alone,

To every murmuring breeze of passing wind! "O, bless'd with all the lovely lapse of song,

That bathes with purest balm the soften'd breast,
I see thee urge thy fancy's course along
The solemn glooms of Gothic piles unbless'd.
"Vancenza rises-o'er her time-touch'd spires
Guill unreveal'd hovers with killing dew,
Frustrates the fondness of the Virgin's fires,

P. Come then, around their works a circle
draw,

And near it plant the dragons of the law,
With labels writ," Critics, far hence remove,
Nor dare to censure what the great approve."
I go. Yet Hall could lash with noble rage
The purblind patron of a former age;
And laugh to scorn th' eternal sonneteer,
Who made goose pinions and white rags so dear.
Yet Oldham, in his rude, unpolish'd strain,
Could hiss the clamorous, and deride the vain,
Who bawl'd their rhymes incessant through the
town,

Or bribed the hawkers for a day's renown.
Whate'er the theme, with honest warmth they

EARS!

the alluring signature o time with a melancholy flight of an earwig, the some other event of equ

His last work was an H ing!) which, I take for mouse that broke her h great consequence, he v tion as long as the poe prologiseth.

"On a tame mouse, whi its life, constantly fed at its approaching de dropped out of its hea

IT DIED."

"This feeling mous
By pity's pures
Because her mist
Wept both her

"By sympathy dep
She one day day
The grateful tear
So liked it not,
"May we, when ot
The debt with i
And, when the ge
Revert to nativ

Mr. T. Vaughan has a of this matchless Επιτα ed upon one Baviad (wh to be a man) with such st of diction, that it would to give it in any words

"Well said, Baviad th Mr. T. Vaughan, as you the alluring signature o a very proper subject 1 suppose for a moment, this gentleman never d occasion, in whatever h the identica! Baviad, in abuse of him, immediate

Thou think'st, perhaps, this wayward fancy strange; of that nightman of lit

So think thou still yet would not I exchange

The secret humour of this simple hit
For all the Albums that were ever writ.
Of this, no more.-O THOU, (if yet there be
One bosom from this vile infection free,)
THOU who canst thrill with joy, or glow with ire,
As the great masters of the song inspire,
Canst bend enraptured o'er the magic page,
Where desperate ladies desperate lords engage,
Gnomes, sylphs, and gods the fierce contention

share,

And heaven and earth hang trembling on a hair:
Canst quake with horror, while Emilia's charms,
Against a brother point a brother's arms;
And trace the fortune of the varying fray,
While hour on hour flits unperceived away-
Approach: 'twixt hope and fear I wait. O deign
To cast a glance on this incondite strain:
Here, if thou find one thought but well express'd,
One sentence higher finish'd than the rest,
Such as may win thee to proceed a while,
And smooth thy forehead with a gracious smile
I ask no more, but far from me the throng
Who fancy fire in Laura's vapid song ;

Weston? And like hi what you say or write, d

"Swell like a filt "The ayes have it. versed in your favourit are in the first, with you emphatic lines:

"Into themselves h

And act, at home,
None see their ow
The pendent wall
And like a Baviad
Tacking his very

And to whose name sh thor's? Let not the read ity to proceed from Pers "The truth and the fact having a small change blundered them, with his He is not much more ha ing WESTON "the night a gentleman does not kn hard to expect him to k Edwin or not, our egregi Mr. T. Vaughan.