52

a new system of ecclesiastical polity, and who, moreover, has the still more questionable merit of discovering in the sacred Scriptures certain doctrines which exhibit the Deity not in the most favourable light, as he himself was forced to confess, when with grief he admits it to be an horribile decretum:—this discipline had led many astray from the maxims of primitive truth and order, and the notions of expediency, as to the Church and its visibility, had engendered a Jamentable callousness towards that very Church of which they all professed to be sincere members. Forgetting that the Church of Christ is one and undivided,-forge ting that the Saviour himself declared, " my kingdom is not of this world,"--and forgetting, too, that this union is not solely a spiritual union, composed at the same time of outward heterogeneous masses, but is, in truth, both a spiritual and a temporal union, no limits were assigned to the extravagancies of fancy, and no safeguard adopted for the preservation of that Church, the doctrines of which Latimer, Ridley, and Cranmer, had sealed with their blood. But the axiom which Laud subsequently assumed, though doubtless sneered at by Dissenters, is strictly true, that the Church must be guarded both against Rome and Geneva-that a Church founded on the Apostles, and not on Christ, is the Roman and the Genevan rock-but that the Church must have a more solid basis, or it has no foundation at all; and that, though it must be built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself must be the chief corner-stone. There were, therefore, only two positions, either that the Church must be a regularly organised body, which, though a voluntary association, acknowledge Christ for its head, or it must not; there must either be systems of authority and regulation, or there must be anarchy and confusion; it must, in short, either be like a well-governed and well-organised kingdom, to which it is compared in the Holy Scriptures, or it must be, so ill-regulated, as that all its members may literally do that which is right in their own eyes. The former, then, was the position of the well-wishers of the Church of England, the latter that of those who were preparing the way for its overthrow : the former was advocated by those who defended order and primitive truth, the latter by those who were on the point of holding out the right hand of fellowship to novelty and fanaticism. Laud hesitated not for a moment to decide; and his memory does truly deserve well of the Church of England, since he so early avowed himself the bold defender of its constitutions.'Pp. 13-16.

Under the auspices of those and other leaders of the Puritans, the tenets of Geneva were making rapid progress in the University, engendering the most novel speculations about the Church, and producing a general carelessness about its constitution, which threatened to sap its very foundation. Forgetting the moderation and admirable caution of the great men under whose auspices the reformation of the Church of England had been conducted, they seemed as if they had themselves determined to commence a new reformation, while at the same time they admitted, that the line of demarcation between the Reformed Church and that of Rome was broad and insurmountable. Nor was their policy the less crafty than their general conduct; for, since they well knew that, were they to make any notorious innovation at once, they would be published by the civil and ecclesiastical power as disturbers of the peace of the realm, their sole hope lay in biassing the minds of the students in the University, over whom they were placed; while, at the same time, they merely corresponded about their differences with their friends among the laity who were in power and influence. Now it was, indeed, that the doctrines of the Church of England, founded on holy Scripture, were not only disputed, but positively denied. The opinions of Calvin respecting predestination, reprobation, election, and all the other kindred dogmas, were zealously maintained, although their defenders might have known that, besides looking in vain for Calvin's horribile decretum in the holy Scriptures, the fathers, with the exception of St. Augustine, and his two disciples, Prosper and Fulgentius, never conceived such tenets, so far as individuals are concerned; and perhaps, in this view, even St. Augustine himself may not be conceded. The doctrine of Scripture and of the Church respecting regeneration in infant baptism was denied, as was also the doctrine of the Church respecting the holy Eucharist. It was absolutely denied that either of these sacred rites had any efficacy in man's salvation. The article in the Apostle's Creed respecting Christ's local descent into hell, asseated in the Convocations o fthe Church in 1552 and 1562, was disclaimed as erroneous, merely, as Dr. Heylin well remarks, "because repugnant to the fan

THE ATHENEUM.

MONTMORENCY.

[No. 66.

houses, is a tragedy, and, consequently, that it is expedient tragedies should be produced at gedy, we should take the liberty of arraignour theatres. Now, if Caswallon' were a trafor allowing it to be acted, and of the auing the conduct of the managers most severely dience for applauding it. Once in twenty years, a quasi-tragedy like Rienzi,' may, no doubt, he produced, and ought to be applauded, because, if it were not so, the public would not be able to talk of the legitimate drama, old English affirm no manager has a right to go. There are feelings, and so forth. But beyond this point, we a set of men regularly attached to the establishment of each theatre, whose business it is to make plays; and there is no man of honest feeling who must not scout the notion of depriving these class of productions, and thereby throwing dismen of their livelihood, by encouraging another credit upon their useful labours. We are anxious to prove, therefore, that no such dishonesty has been committed; that, in engaging the services of atrocity of employing a writer of tragedies, a Mr. Walker, Mr. Price has not committed the measure which would unquestionably occasion a general strike among the playwrights; but that he has merely added, as he had a full right to do, the workmen at which were many of them growa good serviceable person to his establishment, ing lazy, and few of whom were acquainted with the latest improvements in the trade. But 'Caswallon' is for our next number. In the present duce, to our readers, a very promising young genwe wish to introduce, and we shall merely introtleman of the name of Montagu, who has written a book called 'Montmorency,' and who, having studied the stage for many years, proposes to write a series of historical dramas.

The fruits of this long study are apparent in considered Mr. Macready in all his best attitudes; this gentleman's volume. He has evidently and, having done so, he has then straightway consulted his books to find what man in history, and at what particular period of his history, might be supposed, without great violence done to history, to stand in these same attitudes. Now it has occurred to him, that Henry Montmorency, being a well-made Frenchman, and having involved himself in some scrapes, was as likely a person as any to assume, in theatrical language, the air and gesture of passion. This being settled, Mr. Montagu then devises a set of situations which will bring out these attitudes; and, lastly, he considers what words would sound well, as issu

ing from the mouth of a man in the various poswill see that this is the rationale of the following tures in which he has imagined him. Our readers scene. Julia of course is Miss Phillips.

'Enter Duval, hastily. Two leagues hence, unrecovered of fatigue: Who, with his staff, is still at Melun, some 'Duval. This note, my lord, from the Duke of Orleans ;He bade the messenger deliver it with all speed. 'Henry. Leave. (Exit Duval.) Hurried? upon our heads:"" (Reads.) "The King and Parliament of Tolouse have how's this?publicly proclaimed us 'Traitors!'And set a price Julia,- -Julia,—read this ;Then say how I must act. 'Julia. (After reading with great trepidation, ex(Gives the note.) claims with tremulous passion,) Oh dark-dark foreboding!

The gulph is wide

Is-is-the vulture-grip of destiny,-
Before us, and that which urges to its brink
And-will not be opposed!-

Henry. Collect thyself, my wife;-how must I act? 'Julia. Alas, I know not,-think no more of't—it

may pass

Harmless, if unregarded,-unacted on.

Oh,

Sink that in dangerless obscurity? -my husband,- -our childHenry. -Traitor!

-Traitor!

'Julia. Oh-dreadful word!➡➡ 'Henry. How must I act?

-our child!

the ways of God to man;' we deny that a person theology and metaphysics, (with mathematics unskilled in theology is, therefore, more likely the empirics have fortunately been prevented from to be impartial; and we deny that common meddling, and this accounts for their dislike of sense' will at all avail in this or in any other sub- them,) which have been brought into them by ject as a substitute for deep, careful education the blundering conceit of the worshippers of this and study. There is no doubt that a churchman, bastard common sense.' It is owing to the if he were to proclaim either from the pulpit or apathy of the clergy, (an apathy arising, as we the press, or even in conversation, that he disbe- have before asserted, not from the necessity of lieved in the doctrines to which he had subscribed, their situation, but from a want of that strength would subject himself to ecclesiastical censure; and earnestness of feeling which characterised and we are free to confess, that the man who did their forefathers,) that so many of these irreverent so, is not one from whose wisdom or whose honesty hands have been already laid upon the ark of the we should expect much assistance in clearing up covenant, that so many crudities have been put difficulties or discovering truth. But that a church-forth as rational, exactly because the elaboration man, who, without setting himself up as a dis- of them had caused no effort of reason to their coverer and a censurer of the false doctrines which inventor. They have fallen short of their duty, may have mixed with the true in the faith of his not in that they have not degraded their faith own Church or of any other, an assumption which by bringing it within the ken of the sensual we have endeavoured to show is as little sanctioned and fleshly eye to which they presented it, but in by philosophy as by religion, who should fix his that they have not laboured to couch men's eyes attention upon those principles which he be- that it might be beheld it in its grandeur and lieves are more completely realised in that Church purity. For this purpose, they should resort to than elsewhere, who should endeavour, by every all ancient expedients, they should avail themnovelty of argument and illustration, to deepen selves of every modern invention,-above all, they the conviction of them in the minds of his hearers should study the structure of the organ which or readers, and, if he believes they hitherto have they are required to heal. By fulfilling this high been wrong placed in the ordinary system, to responsibility honestly, humbly, and fearlessly, restore them to their proper situation,-who they will show men that some of the very truths should gather out of the opinions of any other which, in their rashness, they would have torn sect those principles which, though in harmony from the system as useless excrescences, stand with the principles of his, (and holding these, he in its very centre, are dove-tailed into innumerable could have no wish to take any that were not in others, and would by their removal involve harmony with them,) and even necessary to their the falling of the rest; that principles of the complete fulness, had nevertheless never been most intimate importance to man's welfare are sufficiently connected with them by his prede- generally those of whose truth he must be concessor, that a clergyman may do all this with- vinced by inward consciousness, before they can out even a nod of reprehension from his superior, be made clear to him by outward demonstration; we hold to be as certain as that he may use his and that the declaration that a wayfaring man, discretion in the purchase of a horse or a picture. though a fool, need not err' in his path to heaven, The restraint imposed upon him in each case is is perfectly consistent with the assertion, that, if exactly the same. His free-will may be embar- (parting with the humility which was his security) rassed in the one by the low state of his finances: he were to attempt to lay down a system of theoin the other, by the low state of his mind: but in logy, he might err most grievously; even as the neither will it be interfered with by the bishop. same wayfaring man,' though excellent in the use And, if we think that the obstacles to clergy- of mechanical tools, might mislead his auditors men's pursuing religious inquiries honestly are considerably if he were to attempt a lecture on imaginary, or arise entirely from themselves, we Mechanics. are still more firmly convinced that the advantages which belong to them, above any other class of the community, for this work are enormous.

We should like to ask those who talk so largely about the impossibility of men with professional habits and class-interests,' fulfilling the appropriate duties of their calling, whether there is nothing in the circumstances of laymen which must give a narrowness and superficiality to their views? Have they no professional interests that are unfavourable to the growth of feelings which belong to a practically religious man, and, at the least, as unfavourable to the formation of that scientific habit of mind which is necessary to the systematically religious man-the theologian? Oh no, says our author; the farm, and the exchange, and the senate, are just the schools for nurturing men to supersede the monks of the cloister; be cause, forsooth, those who are bred up in them have such a vast stock of common sense!' Common sense, indeed! as if, in the year 1829, it were possible still to juggle mankind by the use of that precious phrase!-as if every person with that moderate knowledge of quackery which it would require some ingenuity in the present day not to possess, was not aware that common sense' is another expression for the impatience of every principle that cannot be made evident in half a minute's conversation-for the superficial coxcombry which laughs at whatever seems contradictory, not knowing that a system in which some things did not seem contradictions, would bear a prima facie mark of falsehood-for indolent indifference to truth, for self-satisfied All the subtleties of schoolmen, ignorance. divines, metaphysicians, councils, and systematizers of every description, have not introduced one tithe of the confusion into the studies of

THE LAST OF THE PLANTAGENETS.

The Last of the Plantagenets: an Historical Romance, illustrating some of the Public Events, and Domestic and Ecclesiastical Manners, of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries. 8vo., pp. 464, 12s. Smith, Elder, and Co. London, 1829.

RICHARD III., as our readers, if they likewise read The Gentleman's Magazine,' are aware, left two natural sons, the one Robert of Gloucester, the other a youth whose relationship he recognised the night before the battle of Bosworth, who afterwards passed through various accidents, was discovered, some time in the reign of Henry VIII., working as a builder, and survived all the reign of Edward VI. The adventures of this person, supposed to be described by himself, form the subject

of the romance before us.

The author has evidently drunk deeply at those wells of English undefiled, the old chroniclers; and we do not know any sources from which we may derive more strength and refreshment. In these days, when not merely metaphysicians and natural philosophers, but even poets and novelists, use, even in their description of the living world, abstract dried words which are supposed to represent thoughts more effectually, and, as it were, disinterestedly, because they embody none of itit is delightful to go back to this pastoral age of language when weeds were like roses fresh gathered; imperfect types, indeed, of the tree from which they came, but so rich with its juices and its dews, that the imagination apprehended its essence, though the eye could not comprehend its shape.

But the best use, we think, of studying this old language is, not that we may imitate it, but that

we may impregnate the dead phrases of our own age with a portion of its life and beauty. We can well forgive our author, however, for his attempt to give us a picture of the actual style as it speaks to the fancy, rather than of the spirit of the style as it speaks to the imagination. The best thing is to wear a friend we love in our heart of hearts, so that he may reform our character and spirit. But we like books occasionally to bring the picture of the man himself before our eyes, with his very look and gesture, and, perhaps, clad in the very costume in which we have been wont to see him and converse with him. The only danger, in the latter case, is, that our remembrance of him is not sufficiently distinct; that, being so much blended with our individuality, a portion of that individuality should have cohered inseparably to him; and that in our picture some of our own vulgar features should be joined, contrary to the Horatian precept, with his more handsome and striking ones. This accident has sometimes befallen our author. He has not been able always to keep up the spirit of the olden times, while he has been imitating their language; and sometimes the imitation has made him forgetful of the higher importance of giving interest to the narrative. But, on the whole, we have been very much pleased with the work. It breathes of the flowers of the olden times; and, if now and then we detect a little mixture of newer scents, lavender water or Eau de Cologne, we willingly attribute this to the age and not to the writer. The following extracts will prove that there is great interest in the story, as well as in the language:

'Great was my disorder at being thus left alone with so noble and exalted a personage; yet do I not speak of his greatness of rank only, but also of his goodly form and courteous manner; for that record of him is all untrue, which was written what time the Red Rose prevailed over the White, declaring that Richard was fearful to look upon. He was not, in truth, as one hath of late full slanderously described him, "little of stature, ill-featured of limbs, crook-backed, his left shoulder much higher than his right, and hardfavoured of visage ;"-none of these was he: for, though his person were not of the tallest, it was well up to the middle stature of men ; and, albeit one of his shoulders might be somewhat higher than it's fellow, yet he had a shrewd eye who did discover it, and a passing malicious wit who reported it to be a great deformity. As for his face, in good sooth it had none evil expression in it; though it was marked with much serious anxiety, and was pale and discoloured from weariness and an agitated mind, which scared his brief slumbers with fearful dreams, and gave occasion to his enemies to say that he was haunted by a guilty conscience. Nevertheless, his step and demeanour were full of pomp and royalty; so that it wanted not for any one to say even unto me, though but a simple cloister-bred youth, "that is the King" since all men might well perceive that he could be of nothing less than the blood-royal, or the wearer of a crown. His habit was the close dress of red velvet which he wore

under his armour, surmounted by a blue velvet robe lined with fair ermines, and choicelyembroidered with the letter of his name in gold. The blue Garter of England embraced his knee, and the enamelled George thereof hung to an azure scarf round his neck; whilst upon his head he wore a chapeau of red velvet and ermine, which threw his rich and full brown hair back upon his shoulders.'-Pp. 19, 20.

'The sacred calm and silence, and the holy grandeur of the spot, seemed to bring back unto my mind those Cathedral at Ely, or around my father's tomb in the days when my young feet were wont to wander in the Church of the Grey-Friars at Leicester; and, towards the close of day, I again went alone into the chancel, telling the good Custos, or Decanus as he is now called, Christopher Urswicke, that I would fain pray awhile in secret on that evening, since early on the morrow I must hasten forward on my journey. It was then, enwrapped in thought, that I drew nigh unto the royal tomb by the high-altar, and, kneeling there, prayed audibly unto God and the Virgin for the salvation of Duchess Margaret, my noble cousin the Lady Bride all my House; and especially for King Edward, the Plantagenet, and King Richard, whom I called my father. As these orisons escaped from my lips, I heard a gentle voice near me exclaim," Holy St. Edward !-

my cousin, and the son of King Richard!" whereupon I started, and, looking around, beheld that a leaf of one of the golden gates of King Edward's tomb was open, and that within was a maiden seeming also to be in prayer. She was clothed in a white habit, such as was worn by Novices of the Order of St. Austin, and the fading light was yet enough to show me that it was indeed no other than the Lady Bride at her father's sepulchre; now most wondrously increased both in beauty and in stature since I had last beheld her.

'Hereupon I hastily arose in much confusion; but, as she was about to depart, I noted that in her surprise her rosary had fallen from her hand, and I forthwith entered the tomb and restored it unto her; saying, albeit, with a hesitating voice, "Believe not, Lady, that I knew of your presence in this place, or came hither to trespass on your secret prayers and duteous piety. Indeed, you may well deem that what I have now uttered is not to be spoken lightly, seeing that mine own safety is so much involved therein; nevertheless, I rest me securely upon the good faith of the Lady Bride Plantagenet."

"Stranger," responded she, hastily drawing her robe around her, as if anxious to avoid a more perfect recognition on my part, and yet speaking in a voice so sweet and gentle that it came upon mine hearing like the soft swellings of distant music :-" Stranger, you have in sooth awakened my wonder: yet whoever you may be, whether another false adventurer from Burgundy, or the true son of the blood-stained Richard, your words with me are as if they had never been spoken; since I have neither desire to expose thee unto danger, nor aught to do with the world or its vain-glorious honours."

As she spake thus, her visage became suddenly crimsoned over; yet was it but for a moment, as anon her pure and eloquent blood flowed onward in its wonted course, and her face resumed again its tranquil fairness; such as the still lake shows unto heaven, when the passing gale hath gone by, and the light ruffle which it called forth hath died upon the clear waters. When I last saw the Lady Bride, there was much of the glad look of childhood in her bright blue eyes, and the rich abundance of her hair of paly gold; and those golden locks did still remain even more beauteous than before, but methought that her merry glance was now shaded by a musing melancholy, which shall be full rarely noted in the countenance of one so young. Having awhile marked her in silence, listening with wondrous delight unto her voice, I now assayed to answer her; telling her, that, albeit I was indeed from Burgundy, and even from her noble kinswoman the late Duchess, yet was I no false adventurer who sought to disquiet the realm, nor was my noble father aught of that which the world was wont to call him. I then told her of the Lady Margaret's decease, of her mission which had brought me unto England, and specially of that touching the good Queen Elizabeth and herself; wherein, I added, I could not but rejoice, since it would lead me again to hear the voice of one who was so passing fair.'-Pp. 278-280.

MEDICAL REFORM.

Analytic Physiology; Treating of the Cure of Nervous Diseases, by External Applications to the Spine. By Samuel Hood, M. D., A.B. Second Edition, with an Appendix. 8vo. pp. 207. Whittaker and Co.

London, 1829.

After such a flourish of trumpets, we were prepared to look, at least, for singularity, if not for novelty or accuracy; but, instead of either, we find the work consisting chiefly of a collection of facts and observations from well-known authors, mixed up with a number of cases; most of them, as it appeared to us, of little moment, but detailed in so dogmatical and repulsive a manner, as must disgust and repel every class of readers.

Medical men will be able to understand the extent of the reform in the profession meditated by Dr. Samuel Hood, when we inform them that he is a believer in the identity of life (which he chooses to designate the vital force) and galvanism, the nerves and the blood-vessels in the animal system performing the same role in eliciting this vital force as the plates of copper and zinc in the galvanic trough or the voltaic pile. The original author of this great discovery, he further informs us, was not himself, but Sir Isaac Newton; for, though he is too proud and independent to allow himself to be biassed by any authority, how high soever it may be, he is right fain to shelter himself under every great name which he can by any means twist into his hatband. For example:

In the foregoing investigation of physiological causation, I have uniformly traced irritability and decomposition to a power generated between the blood and the nervous system. This power, I am persuaded, is either galvanic electricity or a modification of it; but, if I am wrong, it is an error which I participate with Newton, Gaubius, Hunter, Wollaston, Abernethy, and Philip; and who need be ashamed to err with such authorities, even if the opinion itself were unsupported either by analytic or synthetic analogy? It would be satisfactory to have an incontestible proof that the vital force is electric,' &c.-P. 187.

No doubt it would be satisfactory to a theorist, if nature would condescend to create proofs expressly for his speculations, but, as it does not appear that this has been done in the present instance, we are put off with a string of alleged authorities instead of facts. We have said alleged,' because three out of the six authorities above enumerated, did not even know, and could not know, of the existence of galvanic electricity, and of course could not by any possibility identify it with life. What could Newton or work a few years before Hunter's death? Be Gaubius know of it, though Galvani published his this as it may, we have here the dogmatic autho

is not an ignis fatuus; it is a substance perceptible by the senses; it is tangible by the thermometer!

It usually takes about a quarter of a century to effect a revolution in the principles of any of the abstruse sciences: half of that period is past since I commenced trying to establish the treatment of nervous diseases on physiological principles; and, should I live

We do not recollect of having ever met with a piece of more perceptible' and 'tangible' absurdity than this. Hartley's vibrations and vibratiuncles of the brain were common-place sobriety to this announcement of the tangiblity of life by the thermometer; nay, more, Dr. Hood affirms that this tangible vital force is not only identical with galvanic electricity, but with what Van Helmont called Archæus,' and Stahl, the soul.' Our medical readers will at once perceive the accuracy of our author's erudition, from this strange jumblement of things so distinctly different.

The evidence which he produces, from the success of the same practice in locked-jaw, is only worthy of notice in so far as it renders manifest the shifts of a theorist to impress every thing possible into his service. The only case which he gives is on the authority of a Captain Jackson, whom the author had instructed in his method of cure previous to his sailing to the coast of Africa. The treatment was, of course, as successful as that recorded of Madeira wine, with which it is said a whole ship's company was cured of locked-jaw, besides the authority of Captain Jackson's own letter, reporting the cure. The author adds:

'Being recently at Liverpool, I called on his excelheard her son say that the treatment of tetanus recomlent mother; she informed me, that she had often mended by me had been completely successful, and that Captain Jackson had instructed her second son, Richard, (also dead,) who cured Captain Owen, of the ship Rathbone, belonging to Thomas Tobin, Esq., of locked jaw.'-P. 206.

The reform of medical practice, announced by the author as already begun, we infer, has not been in the profession, but among sea-captains and their brothers! We no longer marvel that we never before heard of Dr. Samuel Hood; and our readers, after this, cannot feel much surprise, when we tell them that our author gravely proposes to prove the truth of Christianity by phrenology. To prevent the possibility of mistaking the learned Doctor upon this point, we shall state the matter in his own words:

'Philosophers have, in all ages, admitted an intimate relation between the physical and moral nature of man; it is, therefore, not a little strange that such a quantity of sarcasm should have been heaped upon Gall and Spurzheim, for bringing, with immense labour, this relation into a more tangible shape. The kind of ridicule now levelled at phrenology, was, in nomy, and Christianity itself: and, like them, it will former times, liberally bestowed on chemistry, astrobe likely to prosper under persecution; truth shines brightest from the collison of opposing sentiments.

The Baroness de Staël has truly observed, that every discovery appears absurd at its first announcement; the new conclusions are tried by the test of known principles, while it is precisely by abandoning old principles, especially if they be false, that new conclusions are brought to light. Man feels a sort of selfish regard for the doctrines which he imbibes in his youth; he feels himself, as it were, personally attacked when they are assailed: it is a most difficult lesson to unlearn error; and to acknowledge it, requires no inconsiderable share of magnanimity. A discovery has to combat the prejudices of mankind as well as the

lessons of experience. The sages of antiquity, the legislators, philosophers, and divines of modern times, have all added to a knowledge of the general nature of mankind; but phrenology shows the individual to himselt, setting his natural character naked before his eyes'!!!P. Ĭ15.

We conceive that our readers have now had enough, and more than enough, of Dr. Samuel Hood, the great medical reformer.

INTRODUCTORY CANTO TO A POEM ABOUT SOMETHING.

1.

THAT was a noble and a virtuous rage,

Which, in the midst of violence and lust, Sent proud and helmed warriors forth to wage War on the Tyrant, to uphold the just, To shield from wrong the helplessness of age, To pour sweet balm on the corroding rust, Which grief, deep, silent, gnaws into the heart,—— Methinks that was a great and generous part.

II.

And yet we're apt to laugh at these same knights,
And think them rather valorous than wise;
And wonder how men blest with the delights
And luxuries which affluence supplies,
Should prefer sieges, shipwrecks, perils, fights,
To their own home's endearing sympathies,
And, plainly scorning their domestic duties,
Should run about protecting injured beauties.

III.

"Tis very well for us, (who have the happiness To live under a mild Administration, And revel in sec rity,) to profess,

We really think it mental aberration, To study the redress of grievances;'

But, then, we take not in consideration The altered circumstances of society;

For what is outrage now, was then propriety.

IV.

And then redress by law was so precarious,
That very few indulged in litigation;
The Bill of Middlesex,' and all the various
King's writs, had but a scanty circulation.
There was no such effective' Certiorari' as
A good knight's arm; so that, in every nation,
Stout warriors did the business of attorneys,
And your Orlandos were the only Birnies.

V.

But now, the circumstances being new,
"Tis difficult to choose an occupation.
I must confess, I've often wished to do
Something might gain a decent reputation;
And I am wont to set before my view

Examples, best deserving imitation,

Of those who, in their several professions
Of arts, or arms, by conquests, or possessions,-

VI.

Have in their day made an important stir; Yet against all some strong objections lie; My politics are not such as, I fear,

Lead, in the Church, to highest dignity: And of all nauseous objects, I aver,

That which excites the most disgust in me, Is a Lord Bishop reading to the nation, "In justice to himself,'* a recantation-→→ VII.

Of principles, which (accidentally)

Might interfere with subsequent promotion. For Painting I've by no means a good eye. Of Music I have not the smallest notion, Nor any species of philosophy.

Of love I've drunk a very decent potion. A young man cannot study at the Bar, Without, at least, two hundred pounds a-year.

VIII.

'Tis said, Lord Eldon was not worth a sous,

When first from Scotland he arrived in town; But then I should suggest, that very few

Have brains or luck to do what he has done. And your opinions must bend like a yew To gain the emoluments of a silk gown: I always have esteemed the bard's vocation A gentlemanly high-road to starvation.

* Vide Bishop Bloomfield--passim.

IX.

Yet, such a road! that, if my hope could rise
High as the wishes I have dared to build,
If I could e'er aspire to realize

The humblest of the many dreams that filled The splendid future of my phantasies,

I'd starve content to have such hopes fulfilled. But my friends tell me I'm so unmethodical, My poems would be far too episodical.

X.

Ariosto is all episode. To my

Mind Ariosto is the very glory
Of al bards, who in England, Italy,
Portugal, Spain, have graced their nation's story.
Perhaps you'll think that untention'lly,

France is omitted in this inventory:
But the fact is, I have a deep contempt,
Mixed with a hatred, for the Government,-
XI.

Character, customs, literature, laws

Of the French people. I, of course, foresee,
That this most sweeping damnatory clause
Will raise a charge of nationality:'
For which I care not: I speak out, because
Such is my opinion. As for poetry,

I think a man might read French till his brains
Were addled, and find little for his pains.
XII.

But this is episode. The army is,

In war-time, very far from being agreeable
To all the notions I have form'd of bliss;
And though, in peace, you have a comfortable
* Amend' in the enjoyment of the mess,
I don't consider any luxuries able
To drive away the leaden, dead ennui
Of being tied to one society.

XIII.

There is no doubt, the glory of the nation
Mainly consists in her superiority

In naval matters: but th' accommodation
Is so deficient, and the blasphemy
Of the Lieutenants-and the consternation
Created by a storm-appears to me

So dreadful, that a man had better far
Live in a mad-house than a man-of-war.

XIV.

Besides, the vice and immorality,

Which, as my good friend Smith* asserts, defiles, From head to stern, the whole ship's company. And therefore, no trade suiting, for awhile

I shall take up inditing poetry,

A few spare tiresome moments to beguile.
So for myself and my unhappy verses,

I crave the reading public's tender mercies.
XV.

The only difficulty I find in me,

The magnitude of which you cannot doubt :
(It meets me in every quarter like a dun,
And puts all my ideas to the rout :)
The fact is, ere my poem was begun,

I did not settle what to write about.

I can't think how I made such a mistake in
The very outset of my undertaking.

XVI.

The omission of this slight consideration
Is likely to occasion me much pain;
But, as the bark of my imagination

Has left the shore, I can't put back again.
So first I'll mention my determination
To have a MORAL PURPOSE in my strain,
And to the very best of my ability
Uphold the noble doctrine of Utility.
XVII.

"Twere to debase our faculties divine

Not to direct them to some useful end. Seeing that Mr. B-lw-r's views and mine Agree in this, and that my worthy friend In 'The Disowned,' has managed to combine Instruction with amusement, and to blend The great truths of political economy With a few scattered precepts on gastronomy,

I hope to rouse the spirit of the nation
Against the expenditure of Government,
By some Pindaric stanzas on taxation;

And, if to these a patriotic ear is lent,
I'll write a canto against emigration,

And set forth the true theory of rent,
Besides a very plaintive little ditty,
On the report of the Finance Committee.
XX.

But these are projects which do not admit
Of instant execution; and I'm fired
With an outrageous wish to benefit

'The human species, and shall soon get tired,
If I've to wait 'till my slow-kindling wit,
Has had sufficient time to get inspired;
So I shall tune my harp to sing of fights,
And tales of ladies fair and armed knights.
XXI.

But, I assure you, not with any view

Of eulogizing either dame or knight;
For I hold with The Westminster Review,'
That it is very shameful to excite !
Ideas of feudal dames being chaste and true,

Or the male friends bold, generons, and polite, And that Miss Landon, by her warlike strains, Could only mean to turn young ladies' brains.*