BEHOLD, O man! that toilfome pain's doft take,
The flow'rs, the fields, and all that pleafant grows,
How they themselves do thine enfample make;
Whiles nothing envious Nature them forth throws
Out of her fruitful lap: how no man knows
They fpring, they bud, they bloffom fresh and fair,
And deck the world with their rich pompous fhows:
Yet no man for them taketh pains or care;
Yet no man to them can his careful pains compar

The lily, Lady of the flow'ring field,
The flower-de-luce, her lovely paramour,
Bid thee to them thy fruitlefs labours yield,
And foon leave off this toilfome weary ftour.
Lo! lo how brave the decks her bounteous bow'r
With filken curtains and gold coverlets,
Therein to fhroud her fumptuous bellamour;
Yet neither spins, nor cards, nor cares nor frets,
But to her mother Nature all her care fhe lets.
Is this no language?It is not in
deed the language of Sejanus, nor
of the Rambler, but it is the lan-
guage of Nature and of Poetry.
This mighty cenfor reprobates our
poet for ufing old words:-a prac-
tice, however, which is exprefsly
recommended by Cicero and Quin-
tilian; who, speaking of ornamental
language, both mention this fource
firft in order. They mention alfo
another, though not with equal
commendation, the ufe or inven-
tion of new words. Every author
has a right to chufe what fource he

fhall draw his ornaments of diction from. Virgil, Spencer, Shakespeare, and Milton have chofen the former, and Dr Samuel Johnson the latter. A darkened ftyle, no doubt, is blameable; but a ftyle may be darkened with new words as well as with old ones. And a certain rhymster is of opinion, that if a canto of the Fairy Queen, and a paper of the Rambler, were read to a crowd of peasants in England or Scotland, it would foon be vifible where the thickeft darkness lay.

As Palinode fat in the fummer shade,
With maids and fhepherds on the grafs around,
He told the tender tale by Colin made,
Of love-lorn knights on fad adventures bound.
Nearer they press, enamour'd of the found
While fome for joy, and fome for pity, weep,
Gazing in filence folemn and profound;

Such as to midnight-moons the woodlands keep,

When all the waving groves, and winds and waters fleep.

Then of Pompofo he unroll'd the page,
Commencing an oration erudite,
Wherein conglomorated glooms engage,
With corrufcations colorific bright.
Enrag'd the ruftic rout, with foul defpight
From Palinode the fapient volume tore,
And to Dan Sathanas condemn'd it quite,
With clamours fierce; as when on Scylla's fhore
Harsh torrents thro' rude rocks regurgitating rore.

The

concerning the Imitation of Spencer."

51

and language, beyond any other ftanza that I am acquainted with. It allows the fententioufnefs of the couplet, and also the diversified cadence and complicated modulation of blank verfe." This is the opinion of Dr Beattie, who has himself given very good illuftrations of it; and it might be farther illuftrated, by tranfcribing one half of the Fairy Queen.

The ftanza of Spencer, fays our Critic, is at once difficult and unpleafing: tirefome to the ear by its uniformity, and to the attention by its length. This is one of those fentences which he had a notable knack at constructing-regularly balanced, founding well, and meaning nothing. The first charge of difficulty gives us to understand, that the Doctor had attempted to Spencer is accused of having formcompofe in this ftanza without fuc- ed his ftanza in imitation of the Itacefs;-how elfe could he know that lian poets, without due regard to it was difficult? for he ought not to the genius of our language, &c.— have given fuch a flanderous opinion This is a trite criticism, often deupon the report. Difficulty is a rela- livered both before and fince Dr tive term. The fuitors of Penelope Johnfon ufed it. I freely own I could not bend the bow of Ulyffes; have never feen any evidence of its but the hero himself managed it truth: I think I have even feen ewith ease, with grace, and with vidence of its falfity. Spencer had compleat effect."Will you play up- confulted the genius of our language on the pipe?" fays Hamlet to Guil- fufficiently to know that in a poem denftern. "I know no touch of it, of length, fome fort of stanza was my Lord, it is at once difficult and neceffary, to avoid the fuffocation unpleafing." "Govern thefe ven- of long periods. It remained, theretiges with your fingers and thumb,' "fore for him, either to use one alcontinues the prince; "give it breath ready formed, or to form one for with your mouth, and it will dif- himfelf. He was too loyally attachcourfe most eloquent mufic. Look ed to Queen Befs, to turn smuggler, you, thefe are the ftops." "But and import fuch counterband merthefe," replies the fupple courtier, chandize as the Italian Ottave rime. "these I cannot command to any Nor had he any need to do so, there utterance of harmony; I have not being fufficient famples of that ware the skill."-Indeed when one con- in England long before. In fact, if fiders the vast number of ftanzas there was either fin or shame in this written by Spencer, it is impoffible, affair, it muft lie at old father to believe that he found the mea- Chaucer's door. The Man of Law's fure difficult. And, what this tale, for example, which contains critic remarks of its uniformity be more than 1000 lines, is all in a ing tiresome, will be found to hold ftanza closely copied from the Itatrue only when the poetry is faulty liam Ottave rime. Here is an in other refpects. It admits both example: fimplicity and magnificence of found

Me lift not of the chaff ne of the ftre,
Maken fo long a tale as of the corn.
What fhulde I tellen of the realtee

Of this marrigge, or which cours goth beforre,
Who bloweth in a trompe or in an horne ?
The fruit of every tale is for to say.:

They eat, and drink, und dance, and fing, and play.

They

Now MAJESTY alive to knowledge, took
A very pretty memorandum book,
With gilded leaves of affes fkin fo white,

Behind a tub were fome, and fome be- And in it legibly began to write

Instructions to a celebrated Laureat; by Peter Pindar, Esq. 41

And now before their SOVEREIGN's curious eye,

Parents and children, fine, fat, hope ful sprigs, All fouffing, fquinting, grunting, in their ftye,

Appear'd the Brewer's tribe of hand-
fome pigs

On which the obfervant man who fills a
Throne,

Declar'd the pigs were vastly like his own.

Now did his MAJESTY fo gracious fay,
To Mr Whitbread, in his flying way,
"Whitbread, d'ye nick th' Excifeman
now and then?

He, Whitbread, when d'ye think to

leave off trade? "He? what? Mifs Whitbread ftill a maid, a maid?

"What, what's the matter with the men?

"D'ye hunt?➡hæ, hunt? No, no, you

are too old

Damn jokes then, and unmannerly fuggeftions,

Reflecting upon Kings for asking quef

tions.

Now having well employ'd his royal® On nails, hoops, ftaves, pumps, barrels, lungs

and their bungs,

The KING and Co. fat down to a co Of flesh, and fish, and fowl of ev'ry nalation,

tion.

Dire was the clang of plates, of knife
and fork,

That merc'lefs fell like temyhawks to
And fearless fcalp'd the fowl, the fish,
werk,
and cattle,

Whilst Whitbread, in the rear, beheld the /.
battle.

The conqu'ring MONARCH ftopping to take breath

Amidft the regiments of death,

Now turn'd to Whitbread with com placence round,

And merrythus addrefs'dthe Man of Beer: "White

This alludes to the late Dr JOHNSON's laugh on a Great Perfonage, for laudable curiofity in the Queen's Library, fome years fince.

YaL. VI. N°.31,

F

But firft the MONARCH fo polite,
Afk'd Mr Whitbread if he'd be a Knight
Unwilling in the lift to be enrolled,
Whitbread contemplated the Knights of
*PEG,

Then to his generous Sov'REIGN made
à leg,

And faid, "He was afraid he was too old. "He thank'd, however, his moft gra❝ ciaus KING,

"For offering to make him fuch a "THING."

Now from the table with Cæfarean air Up rofe the MONARCH, with his lau. rell'd brow,

When Mr Whitbread, waiting on his chair,

Express'd much thanks, much joy,

and made a bow.

o'erlaid,

Where fwells the tape with many a wellty'd heap,

II.

Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The fell forefathers of Contention fleep.
The tinkling call of bells at Nine
o'clock

chattering to th' indig

nant bar, John Small's loud clarion, →→→→'s noify crack,

No more fhall roufe them to the wordy wrd vlast

war.

III.
For them no more the clerk shall frame,
the roll,

Or bufy Janet duft the fable gown,
No agent lengthen out the lengthen'd
fcroll,

Or lawyer drop the vagrant guinea down.

IV.

Oft did the Seffion to their clamour yield, And year on year their stubborn fp'rit has broke:

How jocund, when the fees their Coun fel fteel'd;

How yawn'd the the Bench, when lift'n ing to the clock.