English Bards and Scotch Reviewers; A SATIRE. (1) "I had rather be a kitten, and ery mew! Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers."-Shakspeare. PREFACE. (2) ALL my friends, learned and unlearned, have urged me not to publish this Satire with my name. If I were to be "turned from the career of my humour by quibbles quick, and paper bullets of the brain," I should have complied with their counsel. But I am not to be terrified by abuse, or bullied by reviewers, with or without arms. I can safely say that I have attacked none personally, who did not commence on the offensive. An author's works are public property: he who purchases may judge, and publish his opinion if he pleases; and the authors I have endeavoured to commemorate may do by me as I have done by them. I dare say they will succeed better in condemning my scribblings, than in mending their own. But my object is not to prove that I can write well, but, if possible, to make others write better. As the poem has met with far more success than I expected, I have endeavoured in this edition to make some additions and alterations, to render it more worthy of public perusal. In the first edition of this satire, published anonymously, fourteen lines on the subject of Bowles's Pope were written by, and inserted at the request of, an ingenious friend of mine,(3) who has now in the press a volume of poetry. In the present edition they are erased, and some of my own substituted in their stead; my only reason for this being that which I conceive would operate with any other person in the same manner,—a determination not (1) The first edition of this satire, which then began with what is now the ninety-seventh line (Time was, ere yet," etc.), appeared in March, 1809. A second, to which the author prefixed his name, followed in October of that year; and a third and fourth were called for during his first pilgrimage, in 1810 and 1811. On bis return to England, a fifth edition was prepared for the press by himself, with considerable care, but suppressed, and, except one copy, destroyed, when on the eve of publication. The text is now printed from the copy that escaped; on casually meeting with which, in 1816, he re-perused the whole, and wrote on the margin some annotations, distinguishing them, by the insertion of their date, from those affixed to the prior editions. The first of these MS. notes of 1816, appears on the fly-leaf, and runs thus: The binding of this volume is considerably too valuable for the contents; and nothing but the consideration of to publish with my name any production, which was not entirely and exclusively my own composition. With (4) regard to the real talents of many of the poetical persons whose performances are mentioned or alluded to in the following pages, it is presumed by the author that there can be little difference of opinion in the public at large; though, like other sectaries, each has his separate tabernacle of proselytes, by whom his abilities are over-rated, his faults overlooked, and his metrical canons received without scrupule and without consideration. But the unquestionable possession of considerable genius by several of the writers here censured renders their mental prostitution more to be regretted. Imbecility may be pitied, or, at worst, laughed at and forgotten; perverted powers demand the most decided reprehension. No one can wish more than the author that some known and able writer had undertaken their exposure; but Mr. Gifford has devoted himself to Massinger, and, in the absence of the regular physician, a country practitioner may, in cases of absolute necessity, be allowed to prescribe his nostrum to prevent the extension of so deplorable an epidemic, provided there be no quackery in his treatment of the malady. A caustic is here offered; as it is to be feared nothing short of actual cautery can recover the numerous patients afflicted with the present prevalent and distressing rabies for rhyming.-As to the Edinburgh Reviewers, (5) it would indeed require a Hercules to crush the Hydra; but if the author succeeds in its being the property of another prevents me from consigning this miserable record of misplaced anger and indiscriminate acrimony to the flames." — E. (2) This preface was written for the second edition, and printed with it. The noble author had left this country previous to the publication of that edition, and is not yet returned.—Note to the fourth edition, 1811.-" He is, and gone again." B. 1816.] (3) Mr. Hobhouse. (4) Here the preface to the first edition commenced. E. (5) I well recollect," said Lord Byron, in 1821, "the effect which the critique of the Edinburgh Rewievers, on my first poems had upon me — it was rage, and resistance, and redress; but not despondency nor despair. A savage review is hemlock to a sucking author, and the one on me (which produced the English Bards) knocked me down-but I got up again. That critique merely "bruising one of the heads of the serpent," though his own hand should suffer in the encounter, he will be amply satisfied. (1) ENGLISH BARDS. BTC., ETC. [bawl STILL must I hear ? (2)-shall hoarse Fitzgerald (3) Oh! nature's noblest gift-my grey goose-quiil! was a master-piece of low wit, a tissue of scurrilous abuse. I remember there was a great deal of vulgar trash, about people being ⚫ thankful for what they could get, '—' not looking a gift horse in the mouth,' and such stable expressions. But so far from their bullying me, or deterring me from writing, I was bent on falsifying their raven predictions, and determined to show them, croak as they would, that it was not the last time they should hear from me."-E. (1) "The severity of the criticism," as Sir Egerton Brydges has well observed," touched Lord Byron in the point where his original strength lay: it wounded his pride, and roused his bitter indignation. He published English Bards, and bowed down those who had hitherto held a despotic victory over the public mind. There was, after all, more in the boldness of the enterprise, in the fearlessness of the attack, than in its intrinsic force. But the moral effect of the gallantry of the assault, and of the justice of the cause, made it victorious and triumphant. This was one of those lucky developments which cannot often occur, and which fixed Lord Byron's fame. From that day he engaged the public notice as a writer of undoubted talent and energy, both of intellect and temper."-E. When Vice triumphant holds her sovereign sway, I too can scrawl, and once upon a time (3) "Hoarse Fitzgerald.”—“Right enough; but why notice such a mountebank?" B. 1816.-E. (4) Mr. Fitzgerald, facetiously termed, by Cobbett, the "Small Beer Poet," inflicts his annual tribute of verse on the Literary Fund: not content with writing, he spouts in person, after the company have imbibed a reasonable quantity of bad port, to enable them to sustain the operation. [For the long period of thirtytwo years, this harmless poetaster was an attendant at the anniversary dinners of the Literary Fund, and constantly honoured the occasion with an ode, which he himself recited with most comical dignity of emphasis. He was fortunate in having for hispatron the late Viscount Dudley and Ward, on whose death without a will, his benevolent intentions towards the Bardwere fulfilled by the present Earl Dudley, who generously sent him a draft for 5000 l. Fitzgerald died in 1829. Of his numerous loyal effusions only a single line has survived its author.]—E. (5) Cid Hamet Benengeli promises repose to his pen, in the last chapter of Don Quixote. Oh! that our voluminous gentry would follow the example of Cid Hamet Benengeli. (6)" This must have been written in the spirit of prophecy." B. 1816. (7) This ingenuous youth is mentioned more particularly, with his production, in another place. A man must serve his time to every trade Save censure-critics all are ready made. Take hackney'd jokes from Miller, got by rote, With just enough of learning to misquote; A mind well skill d to find or forge a fault; A turn for punning, call it Attic salt; To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet: Fear not to lie, 't will seem a sharper hit; Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit; Care not for feeling-pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd. And shall we own such judgment? no—as soon Or any other thing that 's false, before By Jeffrey's heart, or Lambe's Baotian head. (1) Tis doubtful whom to seek, or whom to shun; Then should you ask me, (3) why I venture o'er The path which Pope and Gifford trod before; If not yet sicken'd, you can still proceed: Go on; my rhyme will tell you as you read. "But hold!" exclaims a friend, "here's some neglect: This-that-and t' other line seem incorrect." (1) Messrs. Jeffrey and Lambe are the alpha and omega, the first and last of the Edinburgh Review; the others are mentioned hereafter. [“This was not just. Neither the heart nor the head of these gentlemen are at all what they are here represented. At the time this was written (1808), I was personally unacquainted with either." B. 1816.] (2). "Stulta est Clementia, cum tot ubique --occurras perituræ parcere chartæ." What then? the self-same blunder Pope has got, And careless Dryden-"Ay, but Pye has not :"Indeed!t is granted, faith!-but what care I? Better to err with Pope, than shine with Pye. Time was, ere yet in these degenerate days (4) Ignoble themes obtain'd mistaken praise, When sense and wit with poesy allied, No fabled graces, flourish'd side by side; From the same fount their inspiration drew, And, rear'd by taste, bloom'd fairer as they grew. Then, in this happy isle, a Pope's (5) pure strain Sought the rapt soul to charm, nor sought in vain ; A polish'd nation's praise aspired to claim, And raised the people's as the poet's fame. Like him great Dryden pour'd the tide of song, In stream less smooth, indeed, yet doubly strong. Then Congreve's scenes could cheer, or Otway's For nature then an English audience felt. [meltBut why these names, or greater still, retrace, When all to feebler bards resign their place? Yet to such times our lingering looks are cast, When taste and reason with those times are past. Now look around, and turn each trifling page, Survey the precious works that please the age! This truth at least let satire's self allow, No dearth of bards can be complain'd of now. (6) The loaded press beneath her labour groans, And printers' devils shake their weary bones; While Southey's epics cram the creaking shelves, And Little's lyrics shine in hot-press'd twelves. Thus saith the preacher: "Nought beneath the sun Is new;" yet still from change to change we run: What varied wonders tempt us as they pass! The cow-pox, tractors, galvanism, and gas, In turns appear, to make the vulgar stare, Till the swoln bubble bursts-and all is air! attention to prose-and exhorteth the Moravians to glorify Mr. Grahame-sympathiseth with the Reverend Bowles-and deploreth the melancholy fate of James Montgomery — Breaketh oul into invective against the Edinburgh Reviewers calleth them hard names, harpies and the like apostrophiseth Jeffrey, and prophesieth. - Episode of Jeffrey and Moore, their jeopardy and deliverance; portents on the morn of the combat; the Tweed, Tolbooth, Frith of Forth, severally shocked; descent of a goddess to save Jeffrey; incorporation of the bullets with his sinciput and occiput. - Edinburgh Reviewers en masse; Lord Aberdeen, Herbert, Scott, Hallam, Pillans, Lambe, Sydney Smith, Brougham, etc.-The Lord Holland applauded for dinners and translations. - The Drama; Skeffington, Hook, Reynolds, Kenney, Cherry, etc.-Sheridan, Colman, and Cumberland called upon to write.Return to poesy-scribblers of all sorts-Lords sometimes rhymc, much better not - Hafiz, Rosa Matilda, and X. Y. Z. - Rogers, Campbell, Gifford, etc., true poets-Translators of the Greek An "The poet considereth times past, and their poesy - makes a thology-Crabbe-Darwin's style-Cambridge-Seatonian Prize sudden transition to times present is incensed against book--Smythe-Hodg on-Oxford - Richards-Poeta loquitur—Con Nor less new schools of poetry arise, Where dull pretenders grapple for the prize; And rhyme and blank maintain an equal race; While mountain spirits prate to river sprites, there were, and proportionately less poetry. This thesis I have maintained for some years; but, strange to say, it meeteth not with favour from my brethren of the shell."-Diary, 1821. (1) "With regard to poetry in general, I am convinced that we are all upon a wrong revolutionary poetical system, not worth a damn in itself, and from which none but Rogers and Crabbe are free. I am the more confirmed in this by having lately gone over some of our classics, particularly Pope, whom I tried in this way I took Moore's poems, and my own, and some others, and went over them side by side with Pope's, and I was really astonished and mortified at the ineffable distance, in point of sense, learning, effect, and even imagination, passion, and invention, between the little Queen Ann's man, and us of the Lower Empire. Depend upon it, it is all Horace then, and Claudian now, among us; and if I had to begin again, I would mould myself accordingly."-Diary, 1817. (2) Stott, better known in the Morning Post by the name of Hafiz. This personage is at present the most profound explorer of the bathos. I remember, when the reigning family left Portugal, a special Ode of Master Stott's, beginning thus:-(Stott loquitur quoad Hibernia), "Princely offspring of Braganza, Erin grects thee with a stanza," etc. And skip at every step, Lord knows how high, Next view in state, proud prancing on his roan, And think'st thou, Scott! (4) by vain conceit per- On public taste to foist thy stale romance, ''t was his neck-verse at Harribee," i. e. the gallows. The biography of Gilpin Horner, and the marvellous pedestrian page, who travelled twice as fast as his master's horse, without the aid of seven-leagued boots, are chefs d'œuvre in the improvement of taste. For incident we have the invisible, but by no means sparing, box on the ear bestowed on the page, and the entrance of a knight and charger into the castle, under the very natural disguise of a wain of hay. Marmion, the hero of the latter romance, is exactly what William of Deloraine would have been, had he been able to read and write. The poem was manufactured for Messrs. Constable, Murray, and Miller, worshipful booksellers, in consideration of the receipt of a sum of money; and truly, considering the inspiration, it is a very creditable production. If Mr. Scott will write for hire, let him do his best for his paymasters, but not disgrace bis genius, which is undoubtedly great, by a repetition of black letter ballad imitations. (4) "When Byron wrote his famous satire, I had my share of flagellation among my betters. My crime was having written a poem for a thousand pounds; which was no otherwise true, than that I sold the copyright for that sum. Now, not to mention that an author can hardly be censured for accepting such a sum as the booksellers are willing to give him, especially as the gentlemen of the trade made no complaints of their bargain, Also a Sonnet to Rats, well worthy of the subject, and a most I thought the interference with my private affairs was rather thundering Ode, commencing as follows: "Oh! for a lay! loud as the surge That lashes Lapland's sounding shore. " -Lord have mercy on us! the Lay of the Last Minstrel was nothing to this. beyond the limits of literary satire. I was, however, so far from having any thing to do with the offensive criticism in the Edinburgh, that I remonstrated against it with the editor, because I thought the Hours of Idleness treated with undue severity. They were written, like all juvenile poetry, rather from (3) See the Lay of the Last Minstrel, passim. Never was the recollection of what had pleased the author in others, than any plan so incongruous and absurd as the groundwork of this what had been suggested by his own imagination; but, neverproduction. The entrance of Thunder and Lightning, prolo-theless, I thought they contained passages of noble promise." guising to Bayes' tragedy, unfortunately takes away the merit of originality from the dialogue between Messieurs the Spirits of Flood and Fell in the first canto. Then we have the amiable William of Deloraine, "a stark moss-trooper," videlicet, a happy compound of poacher, sheep-stealer, and highwayman. The propriety of his magical lady's injunction not to read can only be equalled by his candid acknowledgment of his independence of the trammels of spelling, although, to use his own elegant phrase, Sir Walter Scoll. (5) Lord Byron, as is well known, set out with the determi nation never to receive money for his writings. For the liberty to republish this satire, he refused four hundred guineas; and the money paid for the copyright of the first and second canto of Childe Harold, and of the Corsair, he presented to Mr. Dallas. In 1816, to a letter enclosing a draft of 1,000 guineas, offered by Mr. Murray for the Siege of Corinth and Pari For this we spurn Apollo's venal son, And bid a long "good night to Marmion. "(1) These are the themes that claim our plaudits now; The time has been, when yet the muse was young, Her fetters burst, and just released from prison, While awe-struck nations hail'd the magic name: Well might triumphant genii bear thee hence, The work of each immortal bard appears rina, the noble poet sent this answer:-"Your offer is liberal Illustrious conqueror of common sense! (1) "Goodnight to Marmion"-the pathetic and also prophetic exclamation of Henry Blount, Esq., on the death of honest Marmion. (2) As the Odyssey is so closely connected with the story of the Iliad, they may almost be classed as one grand historical poem. In alluding to Milton and Tasso, we consider the Para dise Lost, and Gerusalemme Liberata, as their standard efforts; since neither the Jerusalem Conquered of the Italian, nor the Paradise Regained of the English bard, obtained a proportionate celebrity to their former poems. Query: Which of Mr. Southey's wili survive? (3) Thalaba, Mr. Southey's second poem, is written in open defiance of precedent and poetry. Mr. S. wished to produce something novel, and succeeded to a miracle. Joan of Arc was marvellous enough, but Thalaba was one of those poems "which," in the words of Porson, "will be read when Homer and Virgil are forgotten, but not till then." (4) "Of Thalaba, the wild and wondrous song."-Madoc.-E. (8) We beg Mr. Southey's pardon: "Madoc disdains the degrading title of epic." See his preface. Why, is epic degraded? and by whom? Certainly the late romaunts of Masters Cottle, Laureat Pye, Ogylvy, Hoole, and gentle Mistress Cowley, have not exalted the epic muse; but, as Mr. Southey's poem "disdains the appellation," allow us to ask-has he substituted any thing better in its stead? or must he be content to rival sir Richard Blackmore in the quantity as well as quality of his verse? (6) See The Old Woman of Rerkley, a ballad, by Mr. Southey, wherein an aged gentlewoman is carried away by Beelzebub, on a "high-trotting horse." (7) The last line, "God help thee," is an evident plagiarism from the Anti-Jacobin to Mr. Southey, on his Dactylics.-[Lord Byron here alludes to Mr. Gifford's parody on Mr. Southey' Dactylics, which ends thus: "Ne'er talk of ears again; look at thy spelling-book; Dilworth and Dyche are both mad at thy quantities- (8) Lord Byron, on being introduced to Mr. Southey in 1848, at Holland House, describes him "as the best-looking bard he |