exercise of originality and common sense. We live in the days of literary veneer; the true Spanish mahogany, even the Honduras of originality, is nearly withered to the stump; nothing is said but what has been spoken before, whether it be, "I do not love thee, Dr. Fell," to be found in the "Non amo te," of Martial, or the epigrams of a modern ironist, three or four of which, I discovered, the other day, in a volume of very old plays. The "points" of our best novels, are merely old friends in a new dress; the "tags" of our dramas, the airs of our overtures, are the odds and ends of ancient compositions; in fact, most of our literature resembles the restorations of dealers in medieval furniture, wherein carved bits, old and new, are dove-tailed, pieced, and well varnished with antique colour, to form seats for modern fame to rest upon! In this epoch of plagiarism, happy is that jackdaw, who can find a feather of some former peacock, or a rag from the mantle of some byegone prophet, with which to cover his own literary bareness. Although, therefore, I have not hesitated to confirm my author by quotations from others, I have illustrated him chiefly from my own mind, have created, rather than copied: the biography, also, has been

compiled from the latest materials, some of which have been discovered since the death of Dr. Johnson.

One word as to the apparent satirical hardness of the notes. Sarcasm, it is true, is a peevish dog, kept in the house of Malevolence; but, nevertheless, Humanity is a thick-skinned animal, and its vanity so "films and gilds" its vice, as frequently to require for its cure the actual cautery; in fact, few of its follies can be removed, without the use of the knife. The notes have been written in rustic seclusion, where the mind, cut off from social affinities, and acting the spectator, rather than the player, looks more unimpassioned upon the game of life, and he who "in meditation lives," is likely to

"Shape his weapon with an edge severe."

Yet to be candid, the satirist must first impugn himself, for his own heart presents the telescopic view, diminished but not wholly obliterated by self-love, of the shores and strands of evil he sees, "in extenso," around him; and he must confess that nature has made "the whole world, kin,”—marvellously of a pattern,— so that justice and thief, instructor and pupil, physician and patient, oneself and one's neighbour, are

only cuttings from the same piece! Moreover, even when severe, satire is yet consistent with philanthropy; the former is the stern rebuke applied by the latter, to hypocrisy; and Socrates never evinced more clear perception of the heart's deceit, nor more friendly exertion to deliver his pupil from it, than when he rebuked Antisthenes for his affected asceticism, with, "I see thy vanity through the holes in thy coat." I may sincerely, indeed, say that my object in animadverting upon human infirmity, has not been to exalt myself, but to improve the great brotherhood of mankind.

With respect to historical associations, connected with certain localities mentioned in the Fables, the reader is referred to that truly valuable work, "Curiosities of London," written by my friend, J. Timbs, Esq., F.S.A., Editor of the Illustrated London News; to whom I beg to offer my acknowledgments, for information relative to metropolitan antiquities.

BURSTOW RECTORY, July 1854.

O. F. O.

LIFE OF JOHN GAY.

THE Author of the following Fables is an example of the fickleness of fortune, and the independence of talent and position: descended from an old family, he inherited no ancestral wealth, and was a confirmed poet, though placed apprentice to a silk-mercer.

The manor of Goldworthy, in Devonshire, had long been in possession of his family, but its name does not appear in the Villare. The poet was however of Norman origin; his ancestor, Gilbert le Gay, gave name to a place called Hampton-Gay in Northamptonshire, and by marriage with the family of Curtoyse obtained possession of Goldworthy. The place of his birth was at Barnstaple ;1 the date of it 1688. His first instructor, Mr. Luck, probably fostered, though he could not create, a talent for the Muses in his pupil, ("poeta nascitur non fit,") by a volume of Latin and English verses, which he published shortly before he retired from the superintendence of the school

(1) Since the publication of Johnson's biography of Gay, a singular discovery of a mass of MSS., concealed in a secret drawer in an easy-chair belonging to the poet, has led to the accurate knowledge of his birthplace having been Barnstaple. The reader will find a full account of this discovery, and of the papers, in a small volume in the British Museum, called Gay's Chair, with poems never before printed, from the MSS. of the Rev. Joseph Baller, his nephew, edited by Henry Lee, author of "Caleb Quotem." Hence, upon Baller's authority I have stated him to have been born at Barnstaple: Goldworthy is near Bideford.

B