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Now Critics! for a space, farewell,-to write
To please you, were in truth-to starve you quite;
Cheer up! my lines have faults that shall revive
Your hearts; who live to growl, must growl-to
live.

When once the helmet's on, 'tis then too late
With foes to parley, thundering at the gate!
Before the trumpets † sound, 'tis wise to weigh
With steady hand, the dangers of the fray;
'Tis done ;-your keenest shafts, nor foulest breath,
Shall wound my peace, nor frighten me to death;

engaged in this department of Literature, is evident, from the manner in which some of the Articles are reviewed. Surely the names of those Gentlemen who could write such articles, would not only be an honour to any critical publication, but would also be the means of exciting an additional curiosity in the public, and of awakening a greater degree of attention to their remarks.

* In this comparison of the Gipsey, some more points of resemblance might be adduced; but I leave them to the ima gination of my Readers. I have heard of an Author who read nearly a whole Article in one of the Reviews, without discovering that he was reading an account of his own Work. "Where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise;" and in this happy state, he would have remained, had not a solitary quotation, in the last page, let him into the secret; namely, that he had been enjoying a laugh at his own expense.

†Tecum prius ergo voluta

Hæc animo, ante tubas; galeatum sero duelli
Pœnitet."

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Though White, * your poisoned arrows from his

breast,

In mute forgiveness drew,-then sunk to rest!
At those who court the combat hurl the dart, †
But spare the bruised reed, the broken heart.
Then do your worst, exert your utmost rage,
Twist, mangle, rack for blemishes, my page,
And when you've finished, and are quite aground,
Ten that you've missed, I'll shew, for one you've
found.

*See Remains of Henry Kirke White.

† On attempting to recollect any thing that might fairly be adduced, in favour of anonymous criticism, the whole seems reducible to this. The feelings of Mr. Nobody, the Critic, are of much more consequence than the feelings of Mr. Somebody, the Author: therefore the Critic must be allowed to fight in close and safe quarters; because it takes many years of hard study and close application to make a Critic! Whereas, a few hours of light reading are quite sufficient to constitute an Author. Again-Those Reviews, the writers of which are unknown, may venture to be more spirited, cutting, and sarcastic; therefore they sell better; because all men rejoice to see an Author humbled; and none are more pleased to see this than Brother Authors. But whatever Spirit there may be in anonymous Reviews, it appears to me to be as easy to be brave at the risk and hazard of an Editor, (since he is the only osten. sible person,) as it is to be generous at another man's expense. But I shall ever think that is the most spirited Publication, the writers of wh ch disdain to shoot their arrows, like the Indian, from some secure and secret lurking place; but who come forward boldly with Nisus, and exclaim, "Adsum qui feci." "Here I am, who did it."

But should my Pen (more than it hopes) attain The Vulgar Plaudit,-where's the mighty gain, If, while the Page be praised, the Author's hissed? Men Satire love, but hate the Satirist. Yet, when we think of what vile things are made The great and little Vulgar, strictly weighed, Say dull Mundanus, * shall I woo the nine, To please such claycold, cautious hearts,-as

thine;

Mundanus,-drilled to cringe and kiss the Rod,—
Who, ere he praises waits his Patron's Nod;
From fear of wrong, who never dares be right,
From selfish dread of censure, useless quite;
Whose feet ne'er ventured on untrodden ground,
In trammels stiff of rules and customs bound;
Formed like the Trees, by climate, and by soil,
Whose blood, like sap, doth creep, but never boil,
Whose life, insipid, smooth as Hayley's † song,
With sleep-inviting current steals along;

* It will not be necessary to appropriate to any ind v dual, the character of Mundanus. It happens to be, with some slight modifications, the character of the great majority. The old manly, rough, and independent English Character, seems to be worn down in a servile attendance on those who command the patronage of rotten Boroughs, Ecclesiastical Preferments, and Close Corporations. Such Sycophants in one respect may be compared to old Guineas; the more smooth they are, the less valuable ;-I wish they were as scarce.

† IfI have mentioned Mr. Hayley more than once, it is be

Who owns a spiritless, a tasteless mind,
Vapid as wines, o'er-racked, and o'er-refined;
Too wise the Fool, to dull the Knave to prove,
Too cold for Friendship, too discreet for Love,
Whose heart ne'er glowed another heart to meet,
Incapable as lead of welding heat

*

A bloodless, senseless, lukewarm, harmless thing, That bears no honey, and that wears no sting. Then who would write the multitude to please? Formed, as in truth they are, of such as these!

O for a shop of shops, where all who need, Might purchase Sense! the books they buy-to read ;

cause he is, with respect to the sale of his Works, one of our most successful Rhimers. Perhaps it is my misfortune that I can discover no beauties in his Poetry, notwithstanding I can see many in his Prose. But he has qualities far more amiable. It is not my intention to pay (what no man will thank one for) a compliment to his heart at the expense of his head. For I repeat my convictions that in his Prose Writings he has merited the title of an Elegant Scholar. I shall not think one atom the worse of Mr. Hayley, if he should retort that neither my Verse nor Prose contain any thing worth reading. "Nos hæc novimus esse nihil."

* A Capability of being indissolubly united at a certain heat, called by Workmen the welding heat. This is a property peculiar to the finest Iron; the more pure, and free from Sulphur the metal is, the better. I have heard that Platina will weld; but its high price and obstinate infusibility, make this quality of little value in Platina.

Wigs have attained perfection, nought remains For the Great Seal to stamp, but patent Brains; Shall brains alone their baffled art defy,

Who give us Teeth, or Ears, a Nose* or Eye? †

A friend to all that's good, in Church, or State, No foe to worth I cannot emulate;

* "Sic adscititios nasos, de clune torosi

Vectoris, doctâ secuit Talicotius arte."

† I have somewhere read a story of an unfortunate Christian who gained a livelihood in Constantinople, by making spectacles, and artificial Eyes. He had the honour to make an Eye for the Grand Seignior, and was handsomely rewarded by him.

About a month after that, he was sent for, and was to his great astonishment severely bastinadoed for a Cheat. The Gentlemen who administer these punishments, are usually not very communicative of any thing but blows. But at last, he found out that the Grand Seignior had worn his Eye, with all Mahommedan patience for a whole month, and yet could see no better with it, than he could on the first day it was put in!

I have referred my readers, for a note on the word Priest, to the Appendix; but as that will not be printed till the third Book is finished, at the end of which it will be annexed; I shall offer what few observations I had to make on that head, here.

Once for all, I attach no importance whatever to any of my remarks. If I am wrong, I shall be very much obliged to any one who will set me right. There may be a thousand reasons for differing in opinion; seldon one good reason for quarrelling about them. Conformity in essentials is a real good, so far as it can be obtained by argument, not by force; by persuasion, not by penalties. "In necessariis sit unitas; in non

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