feeling of liberality in his whole carcase; not a sentiment of poetry, a spark of imagination, or the commonest knowledge of history, still less of the nature of man. Yet, having bought a press, he sets up for a critic of all work-poetical, political, historical, and ethical. He is a cormorant for praise from his miserable hacks, whom he governs with a rod of iron; and, what is more, he makes money by selling his praises to the weak and vain-the would-be authors and orators. If among these there are some above purchasing his puffs, he is able sometimes to force them to buy off his abuse, which they are fools enough not to see rather does them good than harm."

"How comes it, however," said I, "that you produce such a man? for I hear you have invited him to dine with Lord Castleton.”

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Why, he is one of those persons, who, being free from all burthen of modesty, and revelling in their intrepidity of assurance, are so far of use, in company, that they will not let people go to sleep. I have, therefore, prevailed upon Lord Castleton, who has heard of, but never yet saw him, to let me invite him, if only to shew the sort of animal he is. You may be sure the invitation was accepted, for he is a great tuft-hunter, as well as a great feeder. A turtle would entice him anywhere, and for a plate of it he would even sell a commendation of the worst book that ever was written. But

turtle from a lord, and that lord a minister, will elevate him to the third heaven; for it is certain that his good things, if he have any, depend upon the good things on the table, and the flow of his wit upon the flow of the claret. In short, in these respects, he is an illustration of the description which Johnson gives of a third or fourth rate critic, who finds he can boil his weekly pot better by abuse than by praise."

Granville added, moreover, that Paragraph was a most despotic monarch in his way, and a bully among all minor publishers and authors.

"In short," said he, "it is not easy to say whether vanity, avarice, or impudence, are uppermost in his character."

Such was the redoubtable Mr. Paragraph, whom my friend had persuaded Lord Castleton to invite to his dinner, with a view to shew him and his company what they had often heard of, but perhaps not seen-one of the self-elected rulers of public opinion.

This account of Mr. Paragraph raised both my curiosity and fear. I, however, allayed the last by resolving not to encounter him, but only to listen.

During the first course, everybody was so intent upon the business for which they had assembled, that they gave one another little opportunity for conversation; and I could see nothing in this

terrific person but a coarse gourmand (such as Granville had described him), in his practical demonstration of the excellence of the turbot and turtle. Upon this he complimented my lord, as indeed he did upon every thing every minute; not forgetting, amid a thousand private merits, the wisdom of his public measures, upon which he actually seemed disposed to pronounce a panegyric in form, for the edification of the company, had not Lord Castleton repressed it with disgust, though equivocally conveyed, by saying, in a tone which might by any one else have been taken for irony, that he never ventured to intrude such common-place business as politics upon men of genius and imagination.

This produced a complacent bow from the censor, who took it as a compliment, and after this instance of his tact, allowed the conversation to become general.

I thought, at first, that he felt a little subdued by the class of company in which he now, for the first time, found himself; but was soon undeceived, for he rallied into a sort of collision with Lord Grandison, a nobleman of a certain age, and high breeding, made still more dignified by great gravity of aspect.

This lord was lamenting to Lord Castleton the death, that day, of a common friend of theirs, which he said had occasioned great grief to his nieces, the Ladies Devenish.

"Yes," said Paragraph, pertly, though not addressed by Lord Grandison, "and we may be certain their grief is genuine, for there is a new opera to-morrow, which they will not be able to attend."

66 You, of course, know these ladies ?" observed Lord Grandison in a dry tone, and with a look of distant dignity, yet of surprise, which might have repelled a less bold person than the gallant Paragraph.

"Not I," said he, with great affectation of indifference; "only there is a new opera to-morrow, and I thought their grief would therefore be but natural."

"Human nature is very much obliged to you," replied Lord Grandison, with still greater gravity; "but let me advise you, Sir, when next you make an offensive observation among strangers, to be more acquainted with the subject of it than you seem to be here. I have known the Ladies Devenish from their cradles, and I must be allowed to tell you their characters will by no means justify the wit you have thrown away upon them."

This rebuke had so far effect, that the critic felt uneasy, and looked round among the company for protection,-which, not finding, he absolutely seemed disconcerted, and stammered out something like an excuse; which Lord Grandison seeming to accept, by an inclination of his head, the fellow

instantly recovered his familiarity, and said, flippantly,

"I trust your lordship will not bear malice, and, in proof of it, will let us take a glass of wine together."

Lord Grandison immediately poured out some wine, and interchanging smiles with Lord Castleton, of indescribable contempt, but which ought to have sunk our censor to the earth, coolly drank off his glass.

A rather awkward pause ensued, and Paragraph was again silent for several minutes, but revived on Granville's mentioning a young author who had just published a poem, but which he was modest enough to say himself he was afraid would not be read.

Paragraph, here feeling in his element, exclaimed, "He may be much more afraid if it is."

"You have read the poem, then?" said Lord Castleton.

"No," cried he, "but I have reviewed it. Ha, ha, ha!"

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"What astonishing talents you gentlemen of the press must have," observed Lord Castleton. tuition itself is nothing to you. No wonder poor authors and ministers are so kept in order by you."

Paragraph again bowed; but looking round, and finding, by a sort of smile, that the company took