In thee, my son, shall ev’ry virtue meet,To form both senator and man complete:A mind like WRAY’s, with stores of fancy fraught,The wise Sir WATKIN’s vast extent of thought;Old NUGENT’s style, sublime, yet ne’er obscure,With BAMBER’s Grammar, as his conscience pure;BRETT’s brilliant sallies, MARTIN’s sterling sense,And GILBERT’s wit, that never gave offence:Like WILKES, a zealot in his Sovereign’s cause,Learn’d as MACDONALD in his country’s laws;Acute as AUDREY, as Sir LLOYD polite,As EASTWICKE lively, and as AMBLER bright.
The justice of [1] the compliment to SIR CECIL WRAY, will not be disputed by those who have been fortunate enough to have met with the beautiful specimens of juvenile poetry, with which some of his friends have lately indulged the public.
Johannes Scriblerus, a lineal descendant of the learned and celebrated Martinus, reads “Starling Martin’s sense,” alluding to that powerful opponent of the detestable Coalition having recommended that a bird of that species should be placed on the right of the Speaker’s chair, after having been taught to repeat the word Coalition, in order to remind the House of that disgraceful event, which had nearly established an efficient and strong government in this country: to which severe and admirable stroke of satire, the object of it clumsily and uncivilly answered, that whilst that gentleman sat in the House, he believed the Starling might be allowed to perform his office by deputy. We have, however, ventured to differ from this great authority, and shall continue to read, “Martin’s Sterling sense,” as well because we are of opinion that these words are peculiarly applicable to the gentleman alluded to, as that it does not appear probable our author should have been willing to make his poem the vehicle of an indecent sarcasm, upon a person of such eminent abilities.
The compliment to Mr. B.G. in the comparison of the purity of his language to the integrity of his conduct, is happily conceived; but that to the ingenious Mr. Gilbert, the worthy Chairman of the Committee of Supply, is above all praise, and will, we are persuaded, notwithstanding the violence of party, by all sides be admitted to be strictly just.
[1] The characteristic ofFancy, which our Poet has attributed to Sir Cecil, must not be misunderstood. It is a Fancy of the chastized kind; distinguished for that elegant simplicity, which the French callnaïveté, and the Greeks αφελεια. We shall insert here two or three of the shorter specimens.
ToCÆLIA(now LadyWray)on seeing her the 8th of August, 1776, powdering her hair
Thy locks, I trow, fair maid,Don’t never want this aid:Wherefore thy powder spare,And onlycombthy hair.
ToSIR JOSEPH MAWBEY,proposing, in consequence of a previousEngagement, a Party to go a-fishing for White-Bait.
Worthy SIR JOE, we all are wishingYou’ll come with us a-White-Bait-fishing.
A Thought onNEW MILKsome Time toward the Spring of the Year1773.
Oh! how charming is New Milk!Sweet as sugar!—smooth as silk!
AnIDEAon aPECKofCOALS.
I buy my Coals by peck, that weMay have ’emfreshandfresh, d’ye see.
* * * * *
After concluding the review of the Ministerialists with the young Marcellus of the Poem, the illustrious Mr. ROLLE; our author directs the attention of DUKE ROLLO to the Opposition-bench. He notices the cautious silence of MERLIN relative to that side of the House, and rather inquisitively asks the reason; on which the Philosopher (a little unphilosophically, we must confess) throws himself into a violent passion, and for a long time is wholly incapable of articulating a syllable. This is a common situation in poets both ancient and modern, as in Virgil and Milton;
Ter conata loqui, &c.Thrice he essay’d, and thrice in spight of scornTears, such as angels weep, burst forth, &c.
but we will venture to assert, that it was never painted in a manner half so lively, as by the author of the ROLLIAD.
Thrice he essay’d, but thrice in vain essay’d;His tongue, throat, teeth, and lips, refus’d their aid:Till now the stifled breath a passage broke;He gasp’d, he gap’d—but not a word he spoke.
How accurately, and learnedly, has the poet enumerated all the organs of speech, which separately and jointly refuse to execute their respective offices! How superior is this to the simply cleaving of the tongue to the palate, theVox faucibus hæsitof Virgil. For as Quintilian observes, a detail of particulars is infinitely better than any general expression, however strong. Then the poor Prophet obtains a little remission of his paroxysm; he begins to breathe convulsively—he gasped; he opens his mouth to its utmost extent—he gaped; our expectations are raised, and, alas! he still continues unable to utter—not a word he spoke. Surely nothing can be more natural in point of truth, than all the circumstances of this inimitable description: nothing more artful in point of effect, than the suspence and attention which it begets in the mind of the reader!
At length, however, MERLIN recovers his voice; and breaks out into a strain of most animated invective, infinitely superior to every thing of the kind in Homer; though the old Grecian must be acknowledged not to want spirit in the altercations, or scolding matches, of his heroes and Gods. The Prophet begins, as a man in any great emotion always must, at the middle of a verse;
——— ——— ———Tatterdemalions,Scald miserables, Rascals and Rascalions,Buffoons, Dependants, Parasites, Toad-eaters,Knaves, Sharpers, Black-legs, Palmers, Coggers, Cheaters,Scrubs, Vagrants, Beggars, Mumpers, Ragamuffins,Rogues, Villains, Bravos, Desperados, Ruffians,Thieves, Robbers, Cut-throats, &c. &c. &c.
And in this manner he proceeds, with single appellatives of reproach, for ten or twelve lines further; when, his virtuous indignation a little subsiding, or his Dictionary failing, he becomes more circumlocutory; as for instance,
Burglarious Scoundrels, that again would stealThe PREMIER’s Plate, and CHANCELLOR’s Great Seal;Of public Murderers, Patrons and Allies,Hirelings of France, their country’s enemies, &c.
which style he continues for more than twenty lines.
We are truly sorry, that the boundaries of our plan would not allow us to present our readers with the whole of this finished passage in detail; as it furnishes an indisputable proof, that, however the Greek language may have been celebrated for its copiousness, it must yield in that respect to the English. For if we were to collect all the terms of infamy bandied about[1], from Æschines to Demosthenes, and from Demosthenes back again to Æschines; and if to these we should add in Latin the whole torrent of calumny poured by Cicero on Antony and Piso; though the ancient orators were tolerably fluent in this kind of eloquence, they would, all together, be found to fall very short of our poet, shackled as he is with rhyme, in the force no less than the variety of his objurgatory epithets. At the same time it must not be concealed, that he possessed one very considerable advantage in the rich repositories of our ministerial newspapers. He has culled the flowers, skimmed the cream, and extracted the very quintessence of those elegant productions with equal industry and success. Indeed, such of our readers as are conversant with the Morning Post and Public Advertiser, the White-Hall, the St. James’s, and, in short, the greater part of the evening prints, will immediately discover the passage now before us to be little more than a cento. It is however such a cento as indicates the man of genius, whom puny scribblers may in vain endeavour to imitate in the NEW ROLLIADS.
It is possible, MERLIN might even have gone on much longer: but he is interrupted by one of those disturbances which frequently prevail in the House of Commons. The confusion is finely described in the following broken couplet:
Spoke! Spoke!—Sir—Mr. Speaker—Order there!I rise—spoke! Question! Question!—Chair! Chair! Chair!
This incident is highly natural, and introduced with the greatest judgment, as it gives another opportunity of exhibiting Mr. ROLLE, and in a situation, where he always appears with conspicuous pre-eminence.
Great ROLLO look’d, amaz’d; nor without fears,His hands applied by instinct to his ears:He look’d, and lo! amid the wild acclaimDiscern’d the future glory of his name;O’er this new Babel of the noisy croud,More fierce than all, more turbulent, more loud.Him yet he heard, with thund’ring voice contend,“Him first, him last, him midst, him without end.”
This concluding line our author has condescended to borrow from Milton; but how apposite and forcible is the application! How emphatically does it express the noble perseverance with which the Member for Devonshire has been known to persist on these occasions, in opposition to the Speaker himself.
ROLLO, however, is at length wearied, as the greatest admirers of Mr. ROLLE have sometimes been, with the triumphs of his illustrious descendant.
But ROLLO, as he clos’d his ears before,Now tired, averts his eyes to see no more.Observant MERLIN, while he turn’d his head,The lantern shifted, and the vision fled.
To understand this last line, our reader must recollect, that though the characters introduced in this vision are preternaturally endowed with seeming powers of speech, yet the forms or shadows of them are shewn by means of a magic lantern.
Having now concluded our observations upon this part of the Poem—we shall close them with remarking, that as our author evidently borrowed the idea of this vision, in which the character of future times are described, from Virgil, he has far surpassed his original; and as his description of the present House of Commons, may not improbably have called to his mind the Pandæmonium of Milton, we do not scruple to assert, that in the execution of his design, that great master of the sublime has fallen infinitely short of him.
[1] More particularly in their two famous orations, which, are entitled “On the Crown.”
* * * * *
Our readers may possibly think, that verses enough have been already devoted to the celebration of Mr. ROLLE; the Poet, however, is not of the same opinion. To crown the whole, he now proceeds to commemorate the column which is shortly to be erected on the spot, where the Member for Devonshire formerly went to School, application having been made to Parliament for leave to remove the school from its present situation; and a motion being intended to follow, for appropriating a sum of money to mark the scene and record the fact of Mr. ROLLE’s education, for the satisfaction of posterity, who might otherwise have been left in a state of uncertainty, whether this great man had any education at all.
MERLIN first shews ROLLO the school. The transition to this object from the present House of Commons is easy and obvious. Indeed, the striking similarity between the two visions is observed by ROLLO in the following passage:
The Hero sees, thick-swarming round the place,In bloom of early youth, a busy race;Propria quæ maribus, with barbarous sound,Syntaxandprosodyhis ear confound,“And say (he cries), Interpreter of fate,Oh! say, is this some jargon of debate?What means the din, and what the scene? proclaim;Is this another vision, or the same?For trust me, Prophet, to my ears, my eyes,A second House of Commons seems to rise.”
MERLIN however rectifies the mistake of the good Duke: and points out to him his great descendant, in the shape of a lubberly boy, as remarkably mute on this occasion, as we lately found him in the House,
More fierce than all, more turbulent, more loud.
The flaggellation of Mr. ROLLE succeeds, which, as MERLIN informsROLLO, is his daily discipline. The sight of the rod, which thePædagogue flourishes with a degree of savage triumph over the exposed,and bleeding youth, awakens all the feelings of the ancestor:
Stay, monster, stay! he cries in hasty mood,Throw that dire weapon down—behold my blood!
We quote this couplet the rather, because it proves our author to be as good a Critic as a Poet. For the last line is undoubtedly a new reading of Virgil’s,
Projice tela manu,—Sanguis meus!
And how much more spirited is this interpretation,
——— ——— ———Behold my blood!
than the commonly received construction of the Latin words, by which they are made to signify simply, “O my son!” and that too with the assistance of a poetical licence. There is not a better emendation in all the Virgilius Restauratus of the learned Martinus Scriblerus.
On the exclamation of ROLLO, which we have just quoted, the Prophet, perceiving that he has moved his illustrious visitor a little too far, administers every consolation,
“Thy care dismiss (the Seer replied, and smil’d)Tho’ rods awhile may weal the sacred child,In vain ten thousand [1]BUSBIES should employTheir pedant arts his genius to destroy;In vain at either end thy ROLLE assail,To learning proof alike at head and tail.”
Accordingly this assurance has its proper effect in calming the mind of the Duke.
But the great topic of comfort, or we should rather say of exultation, to him, is the prophecy of the column, with which MERLIN concludes his speech:
Where now he suffers, on this hallow’d land,A Column, public Monument, shall stand:And many a bard around the sculptur’d base,In many a language his renown shall trace;In French, Italian, Latin, and in Greek;That all, whose curious search this spot shall seek,May read, and reading tell at home, return’d,How much great ROLLE was flogg’d, how little learn’d.
What a noble, and what a just character of the great ROLLE is contained in the last line! A mind tinctured with modern prejudices may be at a loss to discover the compliment. But our author is a man of erudition and draws his ideas from ancient learning, even where he employs that learning, like [2]Erasmus and the admirable Creichton, in praise of ignorance. Our classical readers, therefore, will see in this portrait of Mr. ROLLE, the living resemblance of the ancient Spartans; a people the pride of Greece, and admiration of the world, who are peculiarly distinguished in history for their systematic contempt of the fine arts, and the patience with which they taught their children to bear floggings.
The School now vanishes, and the Column rises, properly adorned with the inscriptions, which the philosopher explains. But as we have been favoured with correct copies of the inscriptions themselves, which were selected from a much greater number composed by our universities, we shall here desert our Poet, and present the public with the originals.
The two first are in Greek; and agreeably to the usual style of Greek inscriptions, relate the plain fact in short and simple, but elegant and forcible, phraseology.
Ωδε το Ρητορικης δεινον ςτομα θαυμα τε Βυλης,Πρωτα ΔΕΒΩΝΙΖΕΙΝ απεμανθανε παις ποτε ΡΩΛΛΟΣ.
The word Δεβωνιζειν is not to be found in our Lexicons; but we presume, that it means, “to speak the dialect of Devonshire;” from Δεβωνια, which is Greek for Devonshire. Accordingly, we have so rendered it in a translation, which we have attempted for the benefit of the country gentlemen and the ladies.
The senate’s wonder, ROLLE [3]of mighty tongue,Here first his Devonshire unlearn’d when young.
How simple, yet how full, is the expression of this distich! How perfectly does it agree with the notion, which our poet has inculcated, of Mr. ROLLE! He was employed at school not to learn but to unlearn; his whole progress, was, like a crab’s, backward.
There is a beauty in the Greek which it is impossible to preserve in English; the word which we have translated “unlearned,” is in the imperfect tense: and, in the nicety of that accurate language implies, that the action was begun, but not completed; that Mr. ROLLE made some proficiency in unlearning his Devonshire; but had not effectually accomplished it during his stay at the school.
The other Greek inscription has something more ingenious, from a seeming paradox in the turn of it:
Ουτνς ο μηποτε που τι μαθων προς μητινος, ωδεΠαις ποτε ΡΩΛΛΙΑΔΗΣ, οσσαπερ οιδ, εμαθεν.
He, who to learning nothing owes,Here ROLLE, a boy, learn’d all he knows.
By which concluding word “knows,” we must certainly understand acquired knowledge only; since Mr. ROLLE has been celebrated by our Poet in the most unequivocal manner, as may be seen in the twelfth number of our Criticisms, for his great natural faculties. The sense of this last Epigram will then be merely, that the Member for Devonshire had no particle of acquired knowledge; but is an αυτοδιδακτος, a self-taught scholar, a character so much admired in ancient times. The Latin inscription is as follows:
Hic ferulæ, dextram, hîc, virgis cædenda magistri,Nuda dedit patiens tergora ROLLIADES.At non ROLLIADEN domuerunt verbera; non, quæNescio quid gravius præmonuere, minæ,Ah! quoties illum æqualis mirata corona estNec lacrymam in pænis rumpere, nec gemitum!Ah! quoties, cum supplicio jam incumberet, ipsi[4]Orbillo cecidit victa labore manus!I, puer; I, forti tolerando pectore plagas,Æmula ROLLIADÆ nomina disce sequi.
Here to the ferule ROLLE his hand resign’d,Here to the rod he bar’d the parts behind;But him no stripes subdu’d, and him no fearOf menac’d wrath in future more severe.How oft the youthful circle wond’ring sawThat pain from him nor tear, nor groan could draw!How oft, when still unmoved, he long’d to jerk,The master’s wearied hand forsook the work!Go, boy; and scorning rods, or ferules, aimBy equal worth to rival ROLLE in fame.
The beauty of these lines, we presume, is too obvious to require any comment. We will confidently affirm, that they record as glorious an example of patience as any to be found in all the History of the Flagellants, though the ingenious M. De Lolme has extended the subject into a handsome Quarto.
The Italian inscription is a kind of short dialogue, in which the traveller is introduced, demanding the name of the person to whom the pillar is erected.
A chi si sta questa colonna? Al ROLLE;Che di parlar apprese in questo locoGreco e Latino nò, ma Inglese—un poco.Basta così. Chi non sa il resto, è folle.
This abrupt conclusion we think very fine. It has however been censured as equivocal. Some critics have urged, that the same turn has, in fact, been applied equally to men greatly famous and greatly infamous; to Johannes Mirandula, and Colonel Chartres: and in the present case, say these cavillers, it may be construed to signify either that the rest is too well known to require repetition, or that there is nothing more to be known. But the great character of Mr. ROLLE will at once remove all ambiguity.
The French inscription was furnished by Mr. ROLLE himself on the day of his election. The idea was first expressed by him in English, and then done into French verse by the [5] Dutch dancing master at Exeter, to whom Mr. ROLLE is indebted for his extraordinary proficiency in that science.
Ne pouvoir point parler à mon chien je reproche;Moi, j’acquis en ces lieux le don de la parole:Je vais donc, & bien vite, à Londres par le coche,Faire entendre au Senat, que je suis un vrai ROLLE.
Thepar le cocheseems to be an addition of the Dancing-master, who was certainly no very great Poet, as appears by his use of feminine rhymes only, without any mixture of masculine: an irregularity perfectly inadmissible, as all our polite readers must know, in the nicety of French prosody. We shall subjoin for the entertainment of our readers an inscription in the parish school at Rouen, which was written about a century since on the original Rollo.
Ici ROLLON fessé soir & matin,Beaucoup souffrit, point n’apprit se Latin.Aux fiers combats bien mieux joua son rôle:Tuer des gens lui parut chose drôle.Femme epousa, plus douce que satin,Et, par bonheur, déjà veuve & catin;D’elle reçut un fils & la v———le.Ainsi, Lecteur, naquit le premier ROLLE!
But to return to our author. After the vision of the column, MERLIN proceeds in a short speech to intimate to ROLLO, that higher honours may yet await his descendant in the House of Lords,
Where ROLLE may be, what ROLLO was before.
This, as may be naturally supposed, excites the curiosity of the Duke; but MERLIN declares, that it is not permitted him to reveal the glories of the Upper house. The hero must first fulfil his fates, by mortally wounding the Saxon drummer, whom Providence shall inspire in his last moments for this particular purpose.
Ere yet thou know, what higher honours waitThy future race, accomplish them thy fate.When now the bravest of our Saxon trainBeneath thy conquering arms shall press the plain;What yet remains, his voice divine in deathShall tell, and Heav’n for this shall lengthen out his breath.
Which last line is most happily lengthened out into an Alexandrine, to make the sound an echo to the sense. The pause too after the words “shall tell,” finely marks the sudden catches and spasmodic efforts of a dying man. Some extracts from the Drummer’s prophecies have already been given to the public; and from these specimens of his loquacity with a thurst in quarte through his lungs, our readers will probably see the propriety with which the immediate hand of Heaven is here introduced. The most rigid critic will not deny that here is truly the
Dignus vindice nodus,
which Horace requires to justify the interposition of a Divinity.
We are now come to the concluding lines of the sixth book. Our readers are probably acquainted with the commonly-received superstition relative to the exit of Magicians, that they are carried away by Devils. The poet has made exquisite use of this popular belief, though he could not help returning in the last line to his favourite Virgil. Classical observers will immediately perceive the allusion to
———Revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad aurasHic labor, hoc opus est;
in the description of ROLLO’s re-ascent from the night-cellar into the open air.
The Prophet foreseeing his instant end,
“At once, farewel,” he said. But, as he said,Like mortal bailiffs to the sight array’d,Two fiends advancing seiz’d, and bore awayTo their dark dens the much-resisting prey:While ROLLO nimbly clamber’d in a fright,Tho’ steep and difficult the way, to light.
And thus ends the sixth book of the ROLLIAD; which we have chosen for the subject of the FIRST PART of our CRITICISMS. In the second part, which is now going on in the Morning-Herald, where the first draughts of the present numbers were originally published, we shall pursue our Commentary through the House of Peers; and in a third part, for which we are now preparing and arranging materials, it is our intention to present our readers with a series of anecdotes from the political history of our ministry, which our author has artfully contrived to interweave in his inimitable poem.
And here, while we are closing this first Part, we cannot but congratulate ourselves, that we have been the humble instruments of first calling the attention of the learned to this wonderful effort of modern genius, the fame of, which has already exceeded the limits of this island, and perhaps may not be circumscribed by the present age; which, we have the best reason to believe, will very shortly diffuse the glory of our present Rulers in many and distant quarters of the globe; and which may not improbably descend to exhibit them in their true colours to remote posterity. That we indeed imagine our Criticisms to have contributed very much to this great popularity of the ROLLIAD, we will not attempt to conceal. And this persuasion shall animate us to continue our endeavours with redoubled application, that we may complete, as early as possible, the design, which we have some time since formed to ourselves, and which we have now submitted to the Public; happy, if that which is yet to come, be received with the same degree of favour as this, which is now finished, so peculiarly experienced even in its most imperfect condition.
[1] Dr. Busby, formerly master of Westminster school, was famous for his consumption of birch. MERLIN uses his name here by the spirit of prophecy.
[2] Erasmus wrote anEncomium of Folly, with abundant wit and learning. For Creichton, see the Adventurer.
[3] The literal English is “vehement mouth of oratory.”
[4] A great flogger of antiquity, ———Memini quæplagosummihi parvoOrbiliumdictare. HOR.
[5] Mynheer Hoppingen Van Caperagen, who soon after the publication of our first authentic Edition, sent the following letter to Mr. Ridgway:
D’Exeter, ce 18 Avril, 1785.
“Je suis fort etonné. Monsieur, que vous ayez eu la hardiesse d’admettre dans “La Critique de la Rolliade,” une accusation contre moi qui n’est nullement fondée, et qui tend à me nuire dans l’esprit de tous les amateurs des beaux arts. Sachez, Monsieur, que je me suis donné la peine de traduiremot à motla célébré inscription, de mon digne élève et protecteur,Mr. Rolle; que je n’y ai rien ajouté, et que dans le vers où il est questiondu coche, votre Critique n’auroit dû voir qu’une preuve de l’économie de mon susditMécene. Quant aux rimes féminines que l’auteur me reproche avec tant d’aigreur, je vous dirai qu’il n’y a rien demâledans l’esprit de Mr.Rolle, et que j’aurois blessé sa delicatesse en m’y prenant autrement; d’ailleurs je me moque des usages, et je ne veux pas que mes vers sautent à clochepied, comme ceux des poëtes François, qui n’entendent rien à la danse. Je ne doute pas que vous approuviez mon sentiment là-dessus, et que vous me fassiez rendre justice sur l’objet de ma plainte: en attendant, je vous prie de croire que je suis, avec le plus vif attachment, Monsieur, votre très obeissant serviteur, HOPPINGEN VAN CAPERAGEN.”
* * * * *
We have now followed our admirable author through theSixth Bookof his poem; very much to our own edification, and, we flatter ourselves, no less to the satisfaction of our readers. We have shewn the art with which he has introduced a description of the leading characters of our present House of Commons, by a contrivance something similar indeed to that employed by Virgil, but at the same time sufficiently unlike to substantiate his own claim to originality. And surely every candid critic will admit, that had he satisfied himself with the same device, in order to panegyrize his favourites in the other House, he would have been perfectly blameless. But to the writer of the ROLLIAD, it was not sufficient to escape censure; he must extort our praise, and excite our admiration.
Our classical readers will recollect, that all Epic Heroes possess in common with the poets who celebrate their actions, the gift ofprophecy; with this difference however, that poets prophecy while they are in sound health, whereas the hero never begins to talk about futurity, until he has received such a mortal wound in his lungs as would prevent any man but a hero from talking at all: and it is probably in allusion to this circumstance, that the power of divination is distinguished in North Britain by the name of SECOND SIGHT, as commencing when common vision ends. This faculty has been attributed to dying warriors, both byHomerandVirgil; but neither of these poets have made so good use of it as our author, who has introduced into the last dying speech of the Saxon Drummer, the whole birth, parentage, and education, life, character, and behaviour, of all those benefactors of their country, who at present adorn the House of Peers, thereby conforming himself to modern usage, and at the same time distinguishing the victorious Rollo’s prowess in subduing an adversary, who dies infinitely harder than either Turnus or Hector.
Without farther comment, we shall now proceed to favour our readers with a few extracts. The first Peer mentioned by theDying Drummer, is the presentMarquis of Buckingham: his appearance is ushered in by an elegant panegyric on his father, Mr.George Grenville, of which we shall only give the concluding lines:
George, in whose subtle brain, if Fame say true, Full-fraught with wars, the fatal stamp-act grew; Great financier! stupenduous calculator!—But, Georgethe son istwenty-one timesgreater!
It would require a volume, not only to point out all the merits of the last line, but even to do justice to that Pindaric spirit, that abrupt beauty, that graceful aberration from rigid grammatical contexts, which appears in the single wordbut. We had however a further intention in quoting this passage, viz. to assert our author’s claim to the invention of that species of MORAL ARITHMETIC, which, by the means of proper additions, subtractions, multiplications and divisions, ascertains the relative merits of two characters more correctly than any other mode of investigation hitherto invented. Lord Thurlow, when he informed the House of Peers, that, “oneHastings is worthtwentyMacartneys,” had certainly the merit of ascertaining the comparative value of the two men inwhole numbers, andwithout a fraction. He likewise enabled his auditors, by means ofthe rule of three, to find out the numerical excellence of any other individual; but to compare Lord Thurlow with our author, would be to compare the scholar with the inventor; to compare a common house-steward withEuclidorArchimedes. We now return to the poem.
After the lines already quoted, our dying drummer breaks out into the following wonderful apostrophe:
Approach, ye sophs, who, in your northern den,Wield, with both hands, your hugedidacticpen;Who, step by step, o’erPindus’ up-hill road,Drag slowly on your learning’s pond’rous load:Though many a shock your perilous march encumbers,Ere the stiff prose can struggle into numbers;And you, atcomets’ tails, who fondly stare,And find a mistress in thelesser bear;And you, who, full with metaphysics fraught,Detect sensation starting into thought,And trace each sketch by Memory’s hand design’dOn that strange magic lantern call’d the MIND;And you, who watch each loit’ring empire’s fate;Who heap up fact on fact, and date on date;Who count the threads that fill the mystic loom,Where patient vengeance wove the fate of Rome;Who tell that wealth unnerv’d her soldier’s hand, }That Folly urg’d the fate by traitor’s plann’d; }Or, that she fell—because she could not stand: }Approach, and view, in this capacious mind,Your scatter’d science in one mass combin’d:Whate’er tradition tells, or poets sing,Of giant-killing John, or John the King;Whate’er———
But we are apprehensive that our zeal has already hurried us too far, and that we have exceeded the just bounds of this paper. We shall therefore take some future opportunity of reverting to the character of this prodigious nobleman, who possesses, and deserves to possess, so distinguished a share in his master’s confidence. Suffice it to say, that our author does full justice to every part of his character. He considers him as a walking warehouse of facts of all kinds, whether relating to history, astronomy, metaphysics, heraldry, fortifications, naval tactics, or midwifery; at the same time representing him as a kind of haberdasher of small talents, which he retails to the female part of his family, instructing them in the mystery of precedence, the whole art of scented pomatums, the doctrine of salves for broken heads, of putty forbroken windows, &c. &c. &c.
* * * * *
We now return to the dying drummer, whom we left in the middle of his eulogy on the Marquis of Buckingham.
It being admitted, that the powers of the human mind depend on the number and association of our ideas, it is easy to shew that the illustrious Marquis is entitled to the highest rank in the scale of human intelligence. His mind possesses an unlimited power of inglutition, and his ideas adhere to each other with such tenacity, that whenever his memory is stimulated by any powerful interrogatory, it not only discharges a full answer to that individual question, but likewise such a prodigious flood of collateral knowledge, derived from copious and repeated infusions, as no common skull would be capable of containing. For these reasons, his Lordship’s fitness for the department of the Admiralty, a department connected with the whole cyclopœdia of science, and requiring the greatest variety of talents and exertions, seems to be pointed out by the hand of Heaven;—it is likewise pointed out by the dying drummer, who describes in the following lines, the immediate cause of his nomination:—
On the great day, when Buckingham, by pairsAscended, Heaven impell’d, the K———’s back-stairs;And panting breathless, strain’d his lungs to showFrom Fox’s bill what mighty ills would flow:That soon,its source corrupt, Opinion’s thread,On India’s deleterious streams wou’d shed;That Hastings, Munny Begum, Scott, must fall,And Pitt, and Jenkinson, and Leadenhall;Still, as with stammering tongue, he told his tale,Unusual terrors Brunswick’s heart assail;Wide starts his white wig from his royal ear,And each particular hair stands stiff with fear,
We flatter ourselves that few of our readers are so void of taste, as not to feel the transcendant beauties of this description. First, we see the noble Marquis mount the fatal steps “by pairs,”i.e.by two at a time; and with a degree of effort and fatigue: and then he is out of breath, which is perfectly natural. The obscurity of the third couplet, anobscuritywhich has been imitated by all the ministerial writers on the India bill, arises from a confusion of metaphor, so inexpressibly beautiful, that Mr. Hastings has thought fit to copy it almost verbatum, in his celebrated letter from Lucknow. The effects of terror on the royal wig, are happily imagined, and are infinitely more sublime than the “steteruntque comæ” of the Roman poet; as the attachment of a wig to its wearer, is obviously more generous and disinterested than that of the person’s own hair, which naturally participates in the good or ill fortune of the head on which it grows. But to proceed.—Men in a fright are usually generous;—on that great day, therefore, the Marquis obtained the promise of the Admiralty. The dying drummer then proceeds to describe the Marquis’s well-known vision, which he prefaces by a compliment on his Lordship’s extraordinary proficiency in the art of lace-making. We have all admired the parliamentary exertions of this great man, on every subject that related to an art in which the county of Buckingham is so deeply interested; an art, by means of which Britannia (as our author happily expresses it)
Puckers round naked breasts, a decent trimming,Spreads the thread trade, and propagates old women!
How naturally do we feel disposed to join with the dying drummer, in the pathetic apostrophe which he addresses to his hero, when he foresees that this attention will necessarily be diverted to other objects:—
Alas! no longer round thy favorite STOWE,Shalt thou the nicer arts to artists show,No more on thumb-worn cushions deign to trace,With critic touch, the texture of bone-lace;And from severer toils, some moments robbing!Reclaim the vagrant thread, or truant bobbin!Far, other scenes of future glory rise,To glad thy sleeping, and thy waking eyes;As busy fancy paints the gaudy dream,Ideal docks, with shadowy navies teem:Whate’er on sea, on lake, or river floats,Ships, barges, rafts, skiffs, tubs, flat-bottom’d boats,Smiths, sailors, carpenters, in busy crowds,Mast, cable, yard, sail, bow-sprit, anchor, shrowds,Knives, gigs, harpoons, swords, handspikes, cutlass blades,Guns, pistols, swivels, cannons, carronades:All rise to view!—All blend in gorgeous show!Tritons and tridents, turpentine, tar—tow!
We will take upon ourselves to attest, that neither Homer nor Virgil ever produced any thing like this. How amiable, how interesting, is the condescension of the illustrious Marquis, while he assists the old women in his neighbourhood in making bone-lace! How artfully is the modest appearance of the aforesaid old women’s cushions (which we are also told were dirty cushions) contrasted with the splendor and magnificence of the subsequent vision! How masterly is the structure of the last verse, and how nobly does the climax rise from tritons and tridents—from objects which are rather picturesque than necessary—to that most important articletow! an article “without which,” in the opinion of Lord Mulgrave, “it would be impossible to fit out a single ship.”
The drummer is next led to investigate the different modes of meliorating our navy; in the course of which he introduces the Marquis’s private thoughts onflaxandforest-trees; the natural history ofnettles, with proofs of their excellence in making cables; a project to produceaurum fulminansfrom Pinchbeck’s metal, instead of gold, occasioned by admiral Barrington’s complaint of bad powder; a discussion of Lord Ferrers’s mathematical mode of ship-building; and a lamentation on the pertinacity with which his Lordship’s vessels have hitherto refused to sail. The grief of the Marquis on this occasion, awaking all our sympathy—
Sighing, he struck his breast, and cried, “Alas!Shall a three decker’s huge unwieldy mass,’Mid croud of foes, stand stupidly at bay,And by rude force, like Ajax, gain the day?No!—let Invention!———”
And at the moment his Lordship becomes pregnant, and is delivered of a project that solves every difficulty.
The reader will recollect Commodore Johnstone’s discovery, that “the aliquot parts being equal to the whole, two frigates are indisputably tantamount to a line of battle-ship; nay, that they are superior to it, as being more manageable.” Now, a sloop being more docile than a frigate, and a cutter more versatile than a sloop, &c. &c. is it not obvious that theforceof any vessel must be in an inverse ratio to itsstrength? Hence, Lord Buckingham most properly observes,
Our light arm’d fleet will spread a general panic,For speed is power, says Pinchbeck, the mechanic.
The only objection to this system, is the trite professional idea, that ships having been for some years past in the habit of sailing directly forwards, must necessarily form and fightin a straight line; but according to Lord Buckingham’s plan, the line of battle in future is to be like the line of beauty,wavingandtortuous; so that if the French, who confessedly are the most imitative people on the earth, should wish to copy our manœuvres, their larger ships will necessarily be thrown into confusion, and consequently be beaten.
But as Sir Gregory Page Turner finely says, “infallibility is not given to human nature.” Our prodigious Marquis, therefore, diffident of his talents, and not yet satisfied with his plan, rakes into that vast heap of knowledge, which he has collected from reading, and forms into onecompost, all the naval inventions of every age and country, in order to meliorate and fertilize the colder genius of Great Britain. “In future,” says the drummer,
All ages, and all countries, shall combine,To form our navy’s variegated line.Like some vast whale, or all-devouring shark,High in the midst shall rise old Noah’sark:Or, if that ark be lost, of equal bulk,Our novel Noah rigs—theJustice Hulk:An Argo next, the peerless Catherine sends,The gorgeous gift of herMingrelianfriends:
Here we cannot repress our admiration at the drummer’s skill in geography and politics. He not only tells us thatMingreliais the ancientColchis, the country visited by the Argonauts, the country which was then so famous for its fleeces, and which even now sends so many virgins to the Grand Seignior’s seraglio, but he foresees the advantages that will be derived to the navy of this kingdom, by the submission of his Mingrelian majesty to the Empress of Russia. But to proceed:
And next, at our Canadian brethren’s pray’r,Ten stouttriremesthe good pope shall spare!
We apprehend, with all due submission to the drummer, that here is a small mistake. Our Canadian brethren may indeed possess great influence with the Pope, on account of their perseverance in the Catholic religion; but as all the triremes in his holiness’s possession are unfortunately in bass-relief and marble, we have some doubt of their utility at sea.
Light-arm’devaas, canoes that seem to fly,Our faithfulObereashall supply:Galliesshall Venice yield. Algiers,xebecs—But thou, Nanquin, gayyachtswith towering decks;While fierce Kamtschatka———
But it is unnecessary to transcribe all the names of places mentioned by our drummer in sailing eastward towards Cape Horn, and westward to the Cape of Good Hope. We flatter ourselves that we have sufficiently proved the stupendous and almost unnatural excellence of the new Lord Buckingham; and that we have shewn the necessity of innovation in the navy as well as in the constitution; we therefore shall conclude this number, by expressing our hope and assurance, that the salutary amputations which are meditated by the two state surgeons, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Wyvill, will speedily be followed by equally skilful operations in our marine; and that the prophecy of the dying drummer will be fulfilled in the completion of that delightful event—the nomination of the noble Marquis to the department of the admiralty!
* * * * *
Having concluded his description of the Marquis of Buckingham, our expiring prophet proceeds to the contemplation of other glories, hardly less resplendent than those of the noble Marquis himself. He goes on to the DUKE of RICHMOND.
In travelling round this wide world of virtue, for as such may the mind of the noble Duke be described, it must be obvious to every one, that the principal difficulty consists—in determining from what quarter to set out; whether to commence in thefrigid zoneof his benevolence, or in thetorrid hemisphereof his loyalty; from theequinoxof his œconomy, or from theterra australisof his patriotism. Our author feels himself reduced to the dilemma of the famousArchimedesin this case, though for a very different reason, and exclaims violently for the Δος που στω, not because he has no ground to stand upon, but because he has too much—because puzzled by the variety, he feels an incapacity to make a selection. He represents himself as being exactly in the situation ofParisbetween the different and contending charms of the threeHeathen Goddesses, and is equally at a loss on which to bestow hisdetur pulcherimæ. There is indeed more beauty in this latter similitude than may at first view appear to a careless and vulgar observer: the three goddesses in question being, in all the leading points of their description, most correctly typical of the noble Duke himself. As for example—Minerva, we know, was produced out of the head ofJove, complete and perfect at once. Thus the Duke of Richmond starts into the perfection of a full-grownengineer, without the ceremony of gradual organization, or the painful tediousness of progressive maturity.—Junowas particularly famed for an unceasing spirit of active persecution against the bravest and most honourable men of antiquity. Col.Debbeige, and some other individuals of modern time, might be selected, to shew that the noble Duke is not in this respect without some pretensions to sympathy with the queen of the skies.—Venustoo, we all know, originated fromfroth. For resemblance in this point,videthe noble Duke’s admirable theories on the subject ofparliamentary melioration.
Having stated these circumstances of embarrassment in a few introductory lines to this part of the poem, our author goes on to observe, that not knowing, after much and anxious thought, how to adjust the important difficulty in question, he resolves at last to trust himself entirely to the guidance of his muse, who, under the influence of her usual inspiration, proceeds as follows:
Hail thou, for either talent justly known,To spend the nation’s cash—or keep thy own;Expert alike to save, or be profuse,As money goes for thine, or England’s use;In whose esteem, of equal worth are thought,A public million, and a private groat.Hail, and—&c.
Longinus, as the learned well know, reckons the figureAmplificationamongst the principal sources of the sublime, as doesQuintilianamongst the leading requisites of rhetoric. That it constitutes the very soul of eloquence, is demonstrable from the example of that sublimest of all orators, and profoundest of all statesman, Mr.William Pitt. If no expedient had been devised, by the help of which thesameidea could be invested in a thousand different and glittering habiliments, by whichonesmall spark of meaning could be inflated into a blaze of elocution, how many delectable speeches would have been lost to the Senate of Great Britain? How severe an injury would have been sustained to the literary estimation of the age? The above admirable specimen of the figure, however, adds to the other natural graces of it, the excellent recommendation of strict and literal truth. The author proceeds to describe the noble Duke’s uncommon popularity, and to represent, that whatever be his employment, whether the gay business of the state, or the serious occupation of amusement, his Grace is alike sure of the approbation of his countrymen.
Whether thy present vast ambition beTo check the rudeness of the’ intruding sea;Or else, immerging in acivilstorm,With equal wisdom to project—reform;Whether thou go’st while summer suns prevail,To enjoy the freshness of thy kitchen’s gale,Where, unpolluted by luxurious heat,Its large expanse affords a cool retreat;Or should’st thou now, no more the theme of mirth,Hail the great day that gave thy sov’reign birth,With kind anticipating zeal prepare,And make thefourthofJunethy anxious care;O! wheresoe’er thy hallow’d steps shall strayStill, still, for thee, the grateful poor shall pray,Since all the bounty which thy heart denies,Drain’d by thy schemes, thetreasurysupplies.
The reference to the noble Duke’s kitchen, is a most exquisite compliment to his Grace’s well-known and determined aversion to the specious, popular, and prevailing vices ofeatinganddrinking; and the four lines which follow, contain a no less admirable allusion to the memorable witticism of his Grace (memorable for the subject of it, as well as for the circumstance of its being the only known instance of his Grace’s attempting to degrade himself into the vulgarity of joke).
When a minister was found in this country daring and wicked enough to propose the suspension of a turnpike bill for one whole day, simply for the reason, that he considered some little ceremony due to the natal anniversary of thehighest, and beyond all comparison, thebestindividual in the country; what was the noble Duke’s reply to this frivolous pretence for the protraction of the national business? “What care I,” said this great personage, with a noble warmth of patriotic insolence, never yet attained by any of the present timid-minded sons of faction, “What care I for the King’s birthday!—What is such nonsense to me!” &c. &c. &c. It is true, indeed, times have been a little changed since—but what of that! there is a solid truth in the observation of Horace, which its tritism does not, nor cannot destroy, and which the noble Duke, if he could read the original, might with great truth, apply to himself and his sovereign:
Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis.
A great critic affirms, that the highest excellence of writing, and particularly of poetical writing, consists in this one power—tosurprise. Surely this sensation was never more successfully excited, than by the line in the above passage, when considered as addressed to the Duke of Richmond—
Still, still, for thee, thegrateful poorshall pray!
Our author, however, whose correct judgment suggested to him, that even the sublimity of surprise was not to be obtained at the expence of truth and probability, hastens to reconcile all contradictions, by informing the reader, that thetreasuryis to supply the sources of the charity, on account of which the noble Duke is to be prayed for.
The poet, with his usual philanthropy, proceeds to give a piece of good advice to a person, with whom he does not appear at first sight to have any natural connexion. He contrives, however, even to make his seeming digression contribute to his purpose. He addressesColonel Debbeigein the following goodnatured, sublime and parental apostrophe—
Learn, thoughtlessDebbeige, now no more a youth,The woes unnumber’d that encompass truth.Nor of experience, nor of knowledge vain,Mock the chimæras of a sea-sick brain:Oh, learn on happier terms with him to live,Who ne’er knewtwice, the weakness to forgive!Then should his grace some vast expedient find,To govern tempests, and controul the wind;Should he, like greatCanute, forbid the wave,T’approach his presence, or his foot to lave;Construct some bastion, or contrive some mound,The world’s wide limits to encompass round;Rear a redoubt, that to the stars should rise,And lift himself, like Typhon, to the skies;Or should the mightier scheme engage his soul,To raise a platform on thenorthern pole,With foss, with rampart, stick, and stone, and clay,To build a breast-work on themilky-way,Or to protect his sovereign’s blest abode,Bid numerous batteries guard theturnpike road;Lest foul Invasion in disguise approach,Or Treason lurk within theDovercoach.Oh, let the wiser duty then be thine,Thy skill, thy science, judgment to resign!With patient ear, the high-wrapt tale attend,Nor snarl at fancies which no skill can mend.So shall thy comforts with thy days increase,And all thy last, unlike thy first, be peace;No rudecourts martialshall thy fame decry,But half-pay plenty all thy wants supply.
It is difficult to determine which part of the above passage possesses the superior claim to our admiration, whether its science, its resemblance, its benevolence, or its sublimity.—Each has its turn, and each is distinguished by some of our author’s happiest touches. The climax from the pole oft the heavens to the pole of a coach, and from the milky-way to a turnpike road, is conceived and exprest with admirable fancy and ability. The absurd story of the wooden horse in Virgil, is indeed remotely parodied in the line,
Or Treason lurk within the Dover coach,
but with what accession of beauty, nature, and probability, we leave judicious critics to determine. Indeed there is no other defence for the passage alluded to inVirgil, but to suppose that the past commentators upon it have been egregiously mistaken, and that this famousequus ligneus, of which he speaks, was neither more nor less than thestage coachof antiquity. What, under any other supposition, can be the meaning of the passage
Aut hoc inclusi ligno occultanturAchivi?
Besides this, the termmachinawe know is almost constantly used byVirgilhimself as a synonyme for this horse, as in the line
Scandit fatalismachinamuros, &c.
And do we not see that those authentic records of modern literature, the newspapers, are continually and daily announcing to us—“This day sets off from the Blue-boar Inn, precisely at half past five, the Bath and Bristolmachine!” meaning thereby merely thestage coachesto Bath and to Bristol. Again, immediately after the line last quoted (to wit,scandit fatalis machina muros)come these words,
Fæta armis, i.e. filled witharms.
Now what can they possibly allude to, in the eye of sober judgment and rational criticism, but theguard, or armedwatchman, who, in those days, went in the inside, or perhaps had a place in theboot, and was employed, as in our modern conveyances, to protect the passenger in his approximation to the metropolis. We trust the above authorities will be deemed conclusive upon the subject; and indeed, to say the truth, this idea does not occur to us now for the first time, as in some hints for a few critical lucubrations intended as fartheraddendato theVirgilius Restauratusof the great Scriblerus, we find this remark precisely:—“In our judgment, this horse (meaningVirgil’s) may be very properly denominated—the DARDANIAN DILLY, or the POST COACH to PERGAMUS.”
We know not whether it be worth adding as a matter of mere fact, that the great object of the noble Duke’s erections at Chatham, which have not yet cost the nation amillion, is simply and exclusively this—toenfiladethe turnpike road, in case of a foreign invasion.
The poet goes on—he forms a scientific and interesting presage of the noble Duke’s future greatness.
With gorges, scaffolds, breaches, ditches, mines,With culverins, whole and demi, and gabines;With trench, with counterscarp, with esplanade,With curtain, moat, and rhombo, and chamade;With polygon, epaulement, hedge and bank,With angle salient, and with angle flank:Oh! thou shall prove, should all thy schemes prevail,An UNCLE TOBY on a larger scale.While dapper, daisy, prating, puffing JIM,May haply personate goodCorporal Trim.
Every reader will anticipate us in the recollection, that the person here honoured with our author’s distinction, by the abbreviated appellative ofJim, can be no other than the Hon. James Luttrel himself, surveyor-general to the ordnance, the famous friends, defender, andcommisof the Duke of Richmond. The wordsdapperanddaisy, in the last line of the above passage, approximate perhaps more nearly to the familiarity of common life, than is usual with our author; but it is to be observed in the defence of them, that our language supplies no terms in any degree so peculiarly characteristic of the object to whom they are addressed. As for the remaining part of the line, to wit, “prating, puffing Jim,” it will require no vindication or illustration with those who have heard this honourable gentleman’s speeches in parliament, and who have read the subsequent representations of them in the diurnal prints.
Our immortal author, whose province it is to give poetical construction, andlocal habitationto the inspired effusions of thedying drummer(exactly asVirgildid to the predictions ofAnchises), proceeds to finish the portrait exhibited in the above passage by the following lines—
As like yourprototypesas pea to pea,Save in the weakness of—humanity;Congenial quite in every other part,The same inhead, but differing in the heart.
* * * * *
We resume with great pleasure our critical lucubrations on that most interesting part of this divine poem, which pourtrays the character, and transmits to immortality the name of theDuke ofRICHMOND.—Our author, who sometimes condescends to a casual imitation of ancient writers, employs more than usual pains in the elaborate delineation of this illustrious personage. Thus, in Virgil, we find whole pages devoted to the description ofÆneas, whileGlacusandThersilochus, like theLuttrels, thePalkes, or theMacnamarasof modern times, are honoured only with the transient distinction of a simple mention. He proceeds to ridicule the superstition which exists in this country, and, as he informs us, had also prevailed in one of the most famous states of antiquity, that a navy could be any source of security to a great empire, or that shipping could in any way be considered as thenaturaldefence of anisland.
Th’ Athenian sages, once of old, ’tis said,Urg’d by their country’s love—by wisdom led,Besought theDelphicoracle to showWhat best should save them from the neighb’ring foe—With holy fervor first thepriestessburn’d,Then fraught with presage, this reply return’d:“Your city, men of Athens, ne’er will fall,If wisely guarded by aWOODEN WALL.”—Thus have our fathers indiscreetly thought,By ancient practice—ancient safety taught,That this, Great Britain, still should prove to theeThy first, thy best, thy last security;That what in thee we find or great or good,Had ow’d its being to this WALL of WOOD.—Above such weakness see greatLenoxsoar,This fence prescriptive guards us now no moreOf such gross ignorance asham’d and sick,Richmond protects us with awall—of brick;Contemns the prejudice of former time,And saves his countrymen bylathandlime.
It is our intention to embarrass this part of theRolliadas little as possible with any commentaries of our own. We cannot, however, resist the temptation which the occasion suggests, of pronouncing a particular panegyric upon the delicacy as well as dexterity of our author, who, in speaking upon the subject of the Duke ofRichmond, that is, upon a man who knows no more of the history, writings, or languages of antiquity than theMarquis of Lansdownhimself, or greatRollo’s groom, has yet contrived to collect a great portion of his illustrations from the sources of ancient literature. By this admirable expedient, the immediate ignorance of the hero is inveloped and concealed in the vast erudition of the author, and the unhappy truth that his Grace never proceeded farther in hisLatinity, than through the neat and simple pages ofCorderius, is so far thrown into the back ground as to be hardly observable, and to constitute no essential blemish to the general brilliancy of thepicture.
The poet proceeds to speak of a tribunal which was instituted in theærahe is describing, for an investigation into the professional merits of the noble Duke, and of which he himself was very properly the head. The author mentions the individuals who composed this inquisition, as men ofopulent, independent, disinterestedcharacters, three only excepted, whom he regrets as apostates to the general character of the arbitrators. He speaks, however—such is the omnipotence of truth—even of them, with a sort of reluctant tendency to panegyric. He says,
Keen without show, with modest learning, sly,The subtle comment speaking in his eye;Of manners polish’d, yet of stubborn soul,Which Hope allures not—nor which fears control;SeeBurgoynerapt in all a soldier’s pride,Damn with a shrug, and with a look deride;While coarseMacbridea busier task assumes,And tears with graceless rage our hero’s plumes;Blunts his rude science in thechieftain’s face,Nor deems—forgive him,Pitt!—a truth, disgrace:AndPercytoo, of lineage justly vain,Surveys the system with a mild disdain.
He consoles the reader, however, for the pain given him by the contemplation of such weakness and injustice, by hastening to inform him of the better and wiser dispositions of the other members of the tribunal;
—But ah! not so the rest—unlike to these,They try each anxious blandishment to please;No skill uncivil e’er from them escapes,Their modest wisdom courts no dang’rous scrapes;But pure regard comes glowing from the heart,To take a friend’s—to take a master’s part;Nor let Suspicion with her sneers convey,That paltry Int’rest could with such bear sway.CanRichmond’s brother be attach’d to gold?CanLuttrell’s friendship, like a vote, be sold?O can such petty, such ignoble crimes,Stain the fairæraof these golden times,WhenPittto all perfection points the way,And pureDundasexemplifies his lay?WhenWilkesto loyalty makes bold pretence,Ardento law, theCabinetto sense;WhenPrettymanaffects for truth a zeal,AndMacnamarasguard the common-weal;Whenlawyersargue from the holy writ,AndHillwould vie withSheridanin wit;WhenCamden, first of Whigs, in struggles past,Teiz’dandtormentedquits the cause at last;WhenThurlowstrives commercial skill to show,And evenSydneysomething seems to know;When honestJackdeclines in men to trade,And court majorities by truth are sway’d;WhenBaker, Conway, Cavendish, or Byng,No more an obloquy o’er senates fling;When———
But where could a period be put to the enumeration of theuncommonappearances of the epoch in question?—The application of the termhonest, prefixed to the name of the person described in the last line of the above passage but three, sufficiently circumscribes the number of those particularJackswho were at this moment in the contemplation of our author, and lets us with facility into the secret that he could mean no other than the worthy Mr.John Robinsonhimself.—The peculiar species of traffic that the poet represents Mr. Robinson to have dealt in, is supposed to allude to a famous occurrence of these times, when Mr. R. and another contractor agreed, in a ministerial emergency, to furnish government withfive hundred and fifty-eightready, willing, obedient, well-trained men, at so much per head per man, whom they engaged to beperfectly fit for any work the minister could put them to. Tradition says, they failed in their contract by somewhat abouttwo hundred.—We have not heard of what particular complexion the first order were of, but suppose them to have beenblacks.
We collect from history, that the noble Duke had been exposed to much empty ridicule on account of his having been, as they termed it, a judge in his own cause, by being the President of that Court, whose exclusive jurisdiction it was to enquire into supposed official errors imputed to himself. The author scouts the venom of those impotent gibers, and with great triumph exclaims,
If it be virtue but yourself toknow,Yourself tojudge, is sure a virtue too.
Nothing can be more obvious—all judgment depends upon knowledge; and how can any other person be supposed to know a man so well as he does himself? We hope soon to see this evidently equitable principle of criminal jurisprudence fully established at theOld Baily; and we are very much inclined to think, that if everyhouse-breaker, &c.was in like manner permitted to judge himself, the susceptible heart would not be altogether so often shocked with spectacles of human massacre before the gates of Newgate, as, to the great disgrace of our penal system, it now is.
Our author now proceeds to speak of a transaction which he seems to touch upon with reluctance. It respects a young nobleman of these times, of the name ofRawdon. It is very remarkable, that the last couplet of this passage is printed with a scratch through the lines, as if it had been the author’s intention to have erazed them. Whether he thought the event alluded to in this distich was too disgraceful for justification—or that the justification suggested was incomplete—that the image contained in them was too familiar and puerile for the general sublimity of his great poem, or whatever he thought, we know not, but such is the fact. The passage is as follows:—after relating the circumstance, he says
Association forms the mind’s great chain,By plastic union many a thought we gain,[Struck-through:(ThusRawsuggestedRaw head, and theDon,Haply reminded him ofBloody bone).]
To the justice of the disgrace thrown upon the above couplet, we by no means concede.—What it wants in poetical construction, it amply makes up in the deep knowledge which it contains of the more latent feelings of the human heart, and its philosophic detection of some of the true sources of human action. We all know how long, and how tenaciously, original prejudices stick by us. No man lives long enough to get rid of his nursery. That the noble duke therefore might not be free from the common influence of a very common sensation, no one can reasonably wonder at, and the best proof that he was not so is, that we defy any person to show us, upon what possible principle, if not upon this, the conduct of the noble Duke, in the transaction alluded to, is to be explained or defended. The Duke of Richmond—a gentleman by a thousand pretensions—a soldier—a legislator—a peer—in two countries a duke—in a third a prince—a man whose honour is not a mere point of speculative courtesy, but is hisoath—impeaches the reputation of another individual of pure and unblemished character; and with the same publicity that he had applied the original imputation, this peer, prince, legislator, and soldier,eatsevery syllable he had said, and retracts everyitemof his charge. Is this to be credited without a resort to some principle of a very paramount nature in the heart of man indeed? Is the original depravity, in the first instance, of publicly attempting to sully the fair honour of that interesting and sacred character, a youthful soldier, or the meanness in the second, of an equally public and unprecedentedly pusillanimous retraction of the whole of the calumny, to be believed in so high a personage as the Duke ofRichmond, without a reference to a cause of a very peculiar kind, to an impulse of more than ordinary potency? Evidently not.—And what is there, as we have before observed, that adheres so closely, or controuls so absolutely, as the legends of our boyish days, of the superstitions of a nursery? For these reasons, therefore, we give our most decided suffrage for the full re-establishment of the couplet to the fair legitimate honours that are due to it.