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Within this Tempill stands a goodly pile
Of buildings strong, albeit of Paper hight,
Where, at the head of many a winding file
Of crazy steps, there lived a merrie wight.
A cheerful wonne it was, of aspect light,
By massive door and double bolts secured,
With inner valve and knocker rubb'd so bright,

To try its power the passing hand it luced ;
And here the live-long day this wight was close immured.


The outward room was desolate and bare,
Save seat for roguish Clerke who entraunce gave ;
But far within, on pompous easy-chair,
Knee deep in papers, sate the master grave:
He was, to weet, a fascinating knave
As e'er charm’d men with magic of the tongue,
For, or in open court or close conclave,

All on his honied words with transport hung ;
So that through England's land his fame was loudly rung.

On every side were thick-bound quartos flung,
And lesser tomes in sheet or board of blue,
And tape-tied trash, (as erst my master sung,
When yon sad Castle of Delights he drew ;)
Lackt not the saffron-back'd and dun review,
The modern tale, the old romantic lore,
Ne flippaunt magazine, ne pamphlet new;

'Mid such varietie of letter'd store,
Save reading, you mote thinke he had to do nought more.

And all around were nicely suited shelves, For every size and character of boke, From giant folios down to pigmy twelves, Old, middle aged, and new,-a motley stock !-“ Treason” upheld by “ Hale,” and “ Crime" by “ Coke,” “Frauds” by “The Common Law," "Crown Pleas” by Powers," The “ Life of Faith" by “ Hume” and “ Bolingbroke;"

Twix “ Rules” and “ Precedents" plain “ Practice” towers, And Socrates o'er all in bronzed stucco lours !

In inner chamber, hid from vulgar sight,
Maps, globes, and instruments, confusedly lay,
Prints, drawings, music, all in tatter'd plight,
The still-loved studies of his youthful day ;
Full oft, he lengthen’d visits here would pay
To sweet remembrances of pleasures gone ;
Here legal caution lost its icy sway,

Here dropt the studied look, the solemn tone,
And here his full heart spoke in language all its own.

And here each night, retired from drafts and pleas,
He ay withdrew; and rid of all controul,
Scribbled in leetle boke his notes and fees;
Then with some mental feast refresh'd his soul:
Then pampering scraps of wit he would unroll,
Or on the gifted page of genius pore,
Strike to Mozart the angel-strain’d viole,

Or weep abandon'd Dido's sorrows o'er,
Or Shakespeare's magic world contemplate and adore.

Ah me, the cares of man! Dan Persius cries,
Dissatisfied, ambition-blinded man ;-
From happy still to happier he flies,
Sad cause of his first fall and Heaven's first ban!
When Fame to trump my hero's name began,
He sigh'd the Senate as the bar to shake,
Forsook the course he long victorious ran,

And lost the high while playing higher stake ;-
Which of another song shall subject matter make.

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Srcond Canto.
Oh Poesie, thou sweetest, loveliest maid
Of all who minister inan's bliss below,
Purest of mental beings, by whose aid
Celestial transports we on earth foreknow !
How often at thy feet my griefs I throw;
How well I love, but ah! how worthlessly,
These trickling witnesses too soothly show,

When from a world I little love, I flee,
To one all flowers and sun-shine, form’d, sweet maid, by thee.

I woo thee not for fame or filthy gain,
I seek thee not in schools of modern date,
I disavow thee 'mong the critic train,
Who, as their factions dictate, love or hate;
In solitude I sue thee, ear' and late,
On native mountain or in kindred glade;
No richer gifts of Heaven I supplicate,
Than health, content, and thee, thou heaven-born maid:
Ah, gracious God, with these my joys would never fade !

But to my tale ;-Near this our wight's abode,
A little higher up the Thamis' stream,
Where by Westminster's arches ’tis ystrode,
Sainct Stephen's antiquated turrets gleam ;
From Lambeth's shores a little town they seem,
By architects of every nation plann'd;
And certes every nation's plans make theme
For mickle work, to the debating band
That nightly fashion laws for England's thinking land !

A mottled clump of roofs and walls it was,
Ne portal visible to unskill'd e'e,
As though by open access none mote pass,
And nought but dark and hidden ways were free ;
And hidden ways enow I wot there be,
For entraunce to that house of high renown :-
How our wight entered, boots not,—there was he,--
Of all his tow'ring wishes at the crown,
When in Sainct Stephen's hall at last he sate him down.

Who but Sir Member now was nightly seen,
With swelling strut and consequential air,
But ill conceal'd by the affected mien
Of self-unworthiness that simper'd there ;
But the peer'd eyebrow and the listless stare,
That, while it favor’d, seem'd to pity too,
Disclosed the aspect that the face would wear,

Were its reflection to the bosom true :
Good Lord, with what nice arts deceit doth man endue !

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On bed of roses now the Templar view,
By senatorial influence upborne ;
But ah! what bed of roses ever grew,
Where lurk'd not the unwelcome stalk of thorn !
Eftsoons his heart with secret stings was torn,
When that sooth tongue that ay attention won,
And oft success, to causes most forlorn,

Unheeded e'en in Freedom's cause begun,
While ill-bred cough and yawn round sleepy hearers run.

Ay, sicker, 'twere a subtle tongue indeed
In predetermined cause that could prevail,
Albeit for truth and liberty it plead,
As too soon found the hero of my tale.
He founder'd in the ministerial gale,
The sea of public principle that sweeps,
'Whelming th' advent'rous barks that dare to sail
Beyond Expediency's unfathom’d deeps-
Which in continued strife the state's own vessel keeps.

Yet to those gallant barks that brave the storm,
Be one triumphant shout of glory given,
Loud as the billow in its fiercest form,
On ocean rock by western whirlwind driven.
See proud Oppression's chains asunder riven ;
While e'en gaunt Power shrinks scowling 'neath his helm,
And swoln Corruption hears the voice of heaven

In patriot tongues, her minions that o'erwhelm,
And hurl in awful peals the vengeance of a realm.

Alack for our poor wight! at this he aim'd;
And as right noble was the prize he sought,
So be, the failure less severely blamed,
In pity to the sufferings on him brought :
For ruin to his peace of mind it wrought,-
In his whole chain of happiness no link
It left entire ; his future life was nought,

For his first fame had died.—Ah me! to think
That e'er absurd ambition man so low should sink.

The shrub the fury of the blast oft braves,
When the proud oak in summer vigour falls ;
The cockboat oft rides safely through the waves
That ruthless swallow mighty ammirals ;
The lightning strikes the turret-crested halls
That daring glisten on the mountain height,
But spares the low-roof'd cabins' humble walls

That in the valley scarce impede the light:
And so in moral nature fared it with our wight.

Thus ends my tale: albeit this seely youth
Repenteth sore the errour of his way,
Yet suffering for folly is most sooth;
And now his heart feels Hope's reviving ray;
She with her magic finger marks a day,
Nor distant far, his life that will renew,
No more in vile ambition's paths to stray :-
And, these consoling prospects

his view,
To self reproach and shame he then will bid adieu.

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I am of a constitution so general, that it consorts and sympathizeth with all things, I have no antipathy, or rather idiosyncracy in any thing. Those national repugnancies do not touch me, nor do I behold with prejudice the French, Italian, Spaniard, and Dutch.-Religio Medici.

That the author of the Religio can feel for all indifferently, but I Medici, mounted upon the airy stilts cannot feel towards them all equally. of abstraction, conversant about no- The more purely-English word that tional and conjectural essences, in expresses sympathy will better exwhose categories of Being the pos- plain my meaning. I can be a friend sible took the upper hand of the to a worthy man, who upon another actual, should have overlooked the account cannot be my mate or fellow. impertinent individualities of such I cannot like all people alike.* poor concretions as mankind, is not I have been trying all my life to much to be admired. It is rather to like Scotchmen, and am obliged to be wondered at, that in the genus of desist from the experiment in despair. animals he should have condescended They cannot like me—and in truth, to distinguish that species at all. For I never knew one of that nation whó myself-earth-bound and fettered to attempted to do it. There is somethe scene of my activities,

thing more plain and ingenuous in Standing on earth, not rapt above the sky, one another at first sight. There is

their mode of proceeding. We know I confess that I do feel the diffe- an order of imperfect intellects (unrences of mankind, national or indi- der which mine must be content to vidual, to an unhealthy excess. I rank) which in its constitution is escan look with no indifferent eye upon sentially anti-Caledonian. The ownthings or persons. Whatever is, is ers of the sort of faculties I allude to to me a matter of taste or distaste; have minds rather suggestive than or when once it becomes indifferent, comprehensive. They have no preit begins to be disrelishing. I am, in tences to much clearness or precision plainer words, a bundle of prejudices in their ideas, or in their manner of -made up of likings and dislikings- expressing them. Their intellectual the veriest thrall to sympathies, dis- wardrobe (to confess fairly) has few pathies, antipathies. In a certain whole pieces in it. They are consense, I hope it may be said of me, tent with fragments and scattered that I am a lover of my species. I pieces of Truth. She presents no full

* I would be understood as confining myself to the subject of imperfect sympathies. To nations or classes of men there can be no direct antipathy. There may be individuals born and constellated so opposite to another individual nature, that the same sphere cannot hold them. I have met with my moral antipodes, and can believe the story of two persons meeting (who never saw one another before in their lives) and instantly fighting.

-We by proof find there should be
'Twixt man and man such an antipathy,
That though he can show no just reason why
For any former wrong or injury,
Can neither find a blemish in his fame,
Nor aught in face or feature justly blame,
Can challenge or accuse him of no evil,

Yet notwithstanding hates him as a devil. The lines are from old Heywood's “ Hierarchie of Angels,” and he subjoins a curious story in confirmation, of a Spaniard who attempted to assassinate a King Ferdinand of Spain, and being put to the rack could give no other reason for the deed but an inveterate antipathy which he had taken to the first sight of the King.

The cause which to that act compell’d him
Was, he ne'er loved him since he first beheld him.


front to them—a feature or side-face him. Is he orthodox - he has no at the most. Hints and glimpses, doubts. Is he an infidel-- he has none germs and crude essays at a system, either. Between the affirmative and is the utmost they pretend to. They the negative there is no border-land beat up a little game peradventure with him. You cannot hover with and leave it to knottier heads, more him upon the confines of truth, or robust constitutions, to run it down. wander in the maze of a probable The light that lights them, is not argument. He always keeps the steady and polar, but mutable and path. You cannot make excursions shifting ; waxing, and again waning. with him—for he sets you right. His Their conversation is accordingly. taste never fluctuates. His morality They will throw out a random word never abates. He cannot comproin or out of season, and be content to mise, or understand middle actions. let it pass for what it is worth. They There can be but a right and a cannot speak always as if they were wrong.

His conversation is as a upon their oath—but must be under- book. His affirmations have the stood, speaking or writing, with sanctity of an oath.

You must some abatement. They seldom wait speak upon the square with him. to mature a proposition, but e'en He stops a metaphor like a suspectbring it to market in the green ear. ed person in an enemy's country. They delight to impart their defec- A healthy book!”-said one of his tive discoveries as they arise, without countrymen to me, who had venwaiting for their full developement. tured to give that appellation to They are systematizers, and John Buncle,-“ did I catch rightly would but err more by attempting it. what you said ? I have heard of a Their minds, as I said before, are man in health, and of a healthy state suggestive merely. The brain of a of body, but I do not see how that true Caledonian (if I am not mis- epithet can be properly applied to a taken) is constituted upon quite a book.” Above all, you must beware different plan. Its Minerva is born of indirect expressions before a Cain panoply. You are never admitted ledonian. Clap an extinguisher upto see his ideas in their growth-if on your irony, if you are unhappily indeed, they do grow, and are not ra

blest with a vein of it. Remember ther put together upon principles of you are upon your oath.--I have a clock-work. You never catch his print of a graceful female after Leomind in an undress. He never hints nardo da Vinci, which I was showor suggests any thing, but unlades ing off to Mr. **** After he had his stock of ideas in perfect order and examined it minutely, I ventured to completeness. He has no falterings ask him how he liked my BEAUTY (a of self-suspicion. Surmises, guesses, foolish name it goes by among my suppositions, half-intuitions, demi- friends) -when he very gravely asconsciousnesses, misgivings, partial sured me, that “ he had considerilluminations, “ dim instincts,” em- able respect for my character and bryo conceptions, and every stage talents (so he was pleased to say), that stops short of absolute certainty “but had not given himself much and conviction-his intellectual fa- thought about the degree of my perculty seems a stranger to. He brings sonal pretensions." The misconcephis total wealth into company, and tion staggered me, but did not seem gravely unpacks it. His riches are much to disconcert him.- Persons of always about him. He never stoops this nation are particularly fond of to catch a glittering something in affirming a truth-which nobody your presence, to share it with you doubts. They do not so properly before he quite knows whether it be affirm, as annunciate it. They do true touch or not. You cannot cry indeed appear to have such a love halves to any thing that he finds. He of truth—as if, like virtue, it were does not find, but bring. You never valuable for itself-that all truth bewitness his first apprehension of a comes equally valuable, whether the thing. His understanding is always proposition that contains it be new at its meridian-you never see the or old, disputed, or such as is imfirst dawn, the early streaks. The possible to become a subject of distwilight of dubiety never falls upon putation. I was present not long Vol. IV.


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