readers to Bishop Hurd's masterly works. The absurdity of so unfounded and novel a charge against that preeminently original writer, Lord Byron, and the ridiculous attempt to degrade into a mere plagiarist, a poet, whose fame has spread, and whose works are admired, throughout Europe, America, and the civilized parts of Asia, might tempt me to ask your readers, in the words of Horace, Risum teneatis, amici? Now then for the writers who replied to my last letter. Of these I would willingly reserve G. M.'s production till the conclusion, as a bonne bouche; but Mark Etheridge is such a very long time suffering the throes of parturition, that I cannot wait for him; as I like to do every thing with dispatch. To use the words of a "fundamental" statesman, I feel an "ignorant impatience" of what this mountain will bring forth: at present there has only appeared a mouse. As G. M. then cannot be reserved, I will take him first, as captain of the squad, and greet him with a sublime verse from his favourite Wordsworth. "Oh what's the matter, what's the matter, What is't that ails young Harry Gill, That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, CHATTER, CHATTER, still? I am happy to find that the castigation I gave G. M. has produced some good effect. "The galled jade winces." The Derby writer evidently now puts forth his ébauches with timidity, though, as might be expected, "here and there the cloven foot appears," since -hæret lateri lethalis arundo. As G. M. is so extremely partial to Peter Bell, he cannot be displeased at my adopting Peter Bell's resolution. "Tis come then to a pretty pass, 66 G. M. talks about "a firm adherence to the cause of truth and virtue, subjecting him to be termed a bigot." Strongly attached as I am, Mr. Editor, to the cause of truth and virtue," G. M.'s insinuation that he was "termed a bigot," for such a 66 cause, excited my utmost astonishment. Upon referring to my letter, the mystery was explained. The only sentence in which the word "bigot" ocNo. 42-VOL. IV. curs, is the following. "The warmest admirers of Wordsworth (except such a violent bigot as G. M. Bridge-street, Derby) condemn his infantile lisping." Yet G. M. unblushingly insinuates that I had "termed him a bigot" for his "adherence to the cause of truth and virtue," instead of the fact, that he was so named for his admiration of the Idiot Boy, Peter Bell, Alice Fell, the Waggoner, &c. In limine, I may turn G. M.'s own words against himself, and observe, that "it augurs well for" Aristarchus "to find his reviler driven to such unworthy expedients." Another charge against me is, that I "have called up the dead languages to reinforce my positions." But as Johnson says, that "classical quotation is the parole of literary men all over the world," I am only sorry that I cannot return G. M. the COMPLIMENT. No reader of his letters will ever accuse him of erudition; and though he seems raving in defence of "the simple Wordsworth," he may console himself with the reflection, that no one will ever accost him as Festus addressed Paul," Much learning hath made thee mad." Were G. M. acquainted with the beauty and the brilliancy, the fire and the sublimity, the tenderness and the pathos, of some writers in "the dead languages," he might then perhaps be able to appreciate the excellencies of Byron. When such "A SCIOLIST" (as Scrutator terms G. M.) rails against classical literature, it reminds one of Quinctilian's remark "damnant quod non intelligunt." The admirers of Shakspeare will be reminded of Jack Cade's condemnation of the Clerk of Chatham. Smith. He can write, and read, and cast accounts. Cade. Oh monstrous! Smith. We took him setting of boys' co pies. Clerk. Sir, I thank God I have been so well brought up that I can write my name. All. He hath confessed: away with him; he's a villain and a traitor. Cade. Away with him, I say; hang bim with his pen and inkhorn about his neck." 66 another's poem as his own (and which circumstance might have been overlooked, but for his soi-disant friends' blustering) adds to his degradation, and ingulphs him in Milton's dread abyss, "in the lowest deep, A lower deep still threat'ning to devour 'him Soon after writing my last letter, I the one I used, W. had confessed found that in a subsequent edition to not his own composition, and I therethat the "Ancyent Marinere” was fore anticipated G. M.'s carmen triumphale. But now, Sir, an insuperable dilemma occurs. G. M. claims the "Idiot Boy" for Wordsworth: Mark Etheridge (col. 1122) asserts it to be written by Mr. Coleridge. While G. M. admits the correctness of the several extracts I cited from Mr. Hazlitt, in which "the simple Wordsworth" is condemned, he thinks it was intimated that the line he quoted was 66 a fabrication of his own." So far from this being the case, Sir, I tacitly admitted its correctness; but I did say that "surely G. M. cannot have read Mr. Hazlitt's works, because (to turn G. M.'s own words against himself again) no writer would be fairly represented by a couple of lines designedly selected." But I see that G. M. (finding Mr. Hazlitt condemns "the simple Wordsworth,") directs his censures against that gentleman now. Your impartial readers will know how to appreciate "Who shall decide when doctors" such a literary weathercock. The extracts from Wordsworth, in my last and especially when such "doctors letter, were transcribed from the edi-disagree?" Has Wordsworth attemptalso as his own? ed to palm off Mr. Coleridge's poem 66 tion of his Lyric Ballads, printed by J. and A. Arch, London, 1798, and in that copy, not a single intimation is given, that Wordsworth is not the author of the "Ancyent Marinere;" but the following sentence from the advertisement prefixed, leaves no doubt in the minds of its readers, that Wordsworth was the author of that poem. The rhyme of the Ancyent Marinere was professedly written in imitation of the style, as well as of the spirit, of the elder poets; but with a few exceptions, the author believes that the language adopted in it has been equally intelligible for the three last centuries." I put it now to the good sense of your readers, whether, after perusing that sentence, they would not have deemed "the author" to be the same "author" as wrote the volume. "Were" G. M. "the student, he would lead the public to suppose, he must have known" of this edition. "Indeed I cannot but surmise that my opponent is very scantily prepared for the critical exploit which he has undertaken." I congratulate, however, his having at last discovered that his "little learning is a dangerous thing." Wordsworth may well exclaim with some of old, "Save me from my friends," for the fact of his having attempted to palm upon the world "Strange that there should such difference be 'Twixt tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee.” "I'm out on ocean's deep, Nor see the shore." If G. M. "regards as incurable" every one who applies the epithet of simple, to As soft as ev'ning in his fav'rite May, he will find an host of “incurables," 66 · Hospital des Incurables," I will nevertheless promise him that I will never read the "Idiot Boy," without thinking of G. M. Bridge-street, Derby.-G. M. says that I can see beauty in Lord Byron's verse, The mind-the music breathing from her face, while I have overlooked the fine lines of Wordsworth, "And she shall lean her ear In many a secret place, Where riv'lets dance their wayward round, I have indulged in this latitude of quotation, Sir, because I wish to do all possible justice to this most extraordinary writer. Now "the beauty" I saw, was in the "fine lines" of Lord Byron's description of Zuleika, and not in an isolated line. G. M.'s "quotations" (his own words turned against himself once more) are peculiarly unfortunate for his purpose, and where they have any weight, they seem "to-not merely seem, but really do-bear upon the opposite side of the question," since it is a fact, as every reader of Byron well knows, that for the very line G. M. has selected, Lord Byron was obliged to write a vindicatory note. But let us 66 look at these "fine lines" of Wordsworth. Not many ladies will "lean their ears in a secret place where rivulets dance:" the fair sex are generally too much afraid of the water!-Here is also a new parentage for "beauty," she is declared to be "born of a sound," and that sound too must be of a peculiar sort, it must be "a murmuring sound!!!"-As to "Peter Bell," G. M. well knows (if he ever read that poem) that the "extract" he has given is not a SPECIMEN : perhaps, however, he cited it as a specimen" of the truth of the reviewer's character of that doggrel, as 'daudling impotent drivel;" for "EXCEPTIO probat regulam." I was about to expose some other "errors of my opponent evincing his critical sagacity," when my attention was arrested by his intimation, that Aristarchus was the reviewer of Peter Bell, part of whose critique appeared in col. 1018. That extract, Sir, was copied from the "Monthly Review" of August, 1819; but that Aristarchus, even in the estimation of an adversary, should write well enough for a Monthly Reviewer, may well "excite" his gratification "not a little." Such a deference to my composition, I did not expect, and "though" G. M. "meaned not so, neither did his heart think so," yet in the opinion of every competent judge, the attributing to me the office of a writer in one of our oldest and ablest reviews, is an important concession that Aristarchus is deemed by G. M. in private, to be a more formidable opponent, than in his letters he "would have us believe." Such a compliment made in so unintentional a manner, (thereby demonstrating it was sincerity, and not flattery, that prompted it,) leads me to forego the further exposure of such a writer as G. M. Indeed it is unnecessary, for G. M. has PROVED HIMSELF to be " utterly blinded by prejudice, and unfit for engaging in the analysis of poetic merit.' I leave him, therefore, with "Alice Fell's"-"hush-aby, baby, by." "Nor Of the tragedy-bounce, by a wich SUBSCRIBER," common charity induces me to take no notice. 66 sus Mark denies Lord Byron's beneflcence! Perhaps knowing himself to resemble ACHAN, he therefore pects" philanthropy in others; but the FACTS I adduced are not to be overturned by a "denial." Various religious publications have attested the noble poet's extensive charity. The Rev. Mr. Maturin speaks in every society in terms of enthusiastic gratitude for his Lordship's beneficence. Mr. Wiffin, a member of the Society of Friends, and the excellent author of Aonian Hours, Julia Alpinula, the Captive of Stamboul, and other admirable poems, justly appreciates Lord Byron's genius, and beautifully commemorates his Lordship's "BENEVOLENCE, Which speaks a better and a brighter doom Than envy grants." WIFFIN'S AONIAN HOURS; a work which needs only to be read in order to be admired. Mark has made the "PRODIGIOUS" discovery, that the comparison at the close of Lord Byron's admirable delineation of Henry Kirko White, is to be found in "Waller's Poems." You are no doubt aware, Sir, that the simile alluded to is of Eastern origin, that it is to be found in the Greek tragedies of Euripides, and that it has been made use of by most of the poets of Europe. But and "here's the rub"-in none of them is it carried out with so much beauty, or applied with so much justice, as by Lord Byron. If your readers will compare his Lordship's exemplification of it (col. 1023) with Waller's verse in "which he used to soar so high," (col. 1123,) they will observe Lord Byron's vast superiority. Of my two opponents, Mark Etheridge has ball without powder, and G. M. powder without ball. May 4. At the expiration of several months, the interest which the Byronic controversy generally excited, must be greatly diminished, and it will therefore be necessary to notice my new opponents as briefly as possible. New foes arise, Threat'ning to bind our souls in iron chains." There is the greater propriety in giving a brief answer to the new writers, because, with the exception of LAMBDA's very sensible letter, little (if any) novelty has been adduced; the old arguments, already refuted, are again brought forward, in a new shape, and in a more inefficient manner. G. J. writes worthy of a better cause: his last letter was probably intended by himself as a mere jeu de son esprit, and therefore it does not call for any particular notice. That "nobody denies Lord Byron is a great poet," and that "every body owns his Lordship writes under the influence of PLENARY poetic inspiration," I am very happy to find G. J. maintains; as it clearly proves his opinion accords with my own, that the ridiculous at tempt to degrade Lod Byron into a plagiarist, has completely failed. I will only further observe that, in LITERARY matters "he that believeth," may take "part with an infidel." The Apostle Paul-the very writer whom he quotes-did not hesitate to approve, and to avail himself of, the productions of infidel poets:* and such authority I doubt not G. J. will deem decisive. Mark Etheridge (formerly Coleridge) has now fallen foul of Scrutator and Philo-Aristarchus: to these gentlemen, therefore, I leave * Acts xvii. 28. and Titus i. 12. the refutation of his second letter, should they deem the ipse dixit of such a writer worthy of their notice. Mark concludes with a travestie of Lord Byron's Corsair; but as a proof how senseless it is, the Eclectic reviewer-and no one will suspect an evangelical writer of partiality to a deist-in his analysis of this very "Corsair," (after giving a very long extract,) declares that there is " NOTHING IN THE WHOLE COMPASS OF ENGLISH POETRY THAT TRANSCENDS THIS FOR BEAUTY AND PATHOS." So much for Mark Etheridge's discernment! The letters of Anti-Byron and three F's, are more an attack upon the other admirers of Lord Byron's poems than upon myself. As both these writers condemn the tendency of his Lordship's productions, it is fortunate for the admirers of the noble poet, that the very same number of the "Imperial" which contained reiterations against the morality of Lord Byron's poetry, should also contain a practical refutation of those charges. In your columns, Sir, (449 and 450,) the tendency" of those poems will be found to accord with the best feelings of the human heart. Thus "the bane and antidote are both before" your readers, and to their IMPARTIAL judgment the question is cheerfully left. "The harp the monarch-minstrel swept," for instance, the most fastidious must admire, and "Aristarchus of old" would have eulogized. Epsilon's chemical letter would have been less disgusting if it had corresponded with the signature by being short E. A much abler writer than himself (G. J.) very properly says that 66 soft words and hard arguments" are best; but Epsilon has reversed this maxim. Short E. has crammed into his "oration" plenty of what the ladies term "hard words," while his arguments are as soft as his pate. "A tale, told by an idiot, Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." No writer on either side has so much 'grandiloquent phrase" and ranting fustian, as Epsilon. This Owl, not Eagle" has even flown to 66 The high sublime of deep absurd." After a pompous and irrelevant introduction about 66 epopee and the drama," Epsilon has huddled Homer and Byron, Julius Cæsar and Dryden, Balaam and Wordsworth, into his "alembics, retorts, or crucibles," to undergo a "decomposition, distillation, or sublimation;" but the whole result short E. gives us is, "froth and fume," and "SPLENETIC HUMOUR," with a sediment-I beg pardon, a “substratum” of "envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness." 66 66 less hackneyed. In the other parts of Epsilon's letter there are such inane attempts at ratiocination, enveloped in such mysticism and pomposity of language--verborum satis, spientiæ parim-that I should be ashamed to notice them. Throughout his letter, I was compelled to exclaim, "what is good is borrowed; and what is his own, is good for nothing." Were I to honour Epsilon with any further notice, he would, like his type Sir Fretful Plagiary, be "rather pleased, than otherwise." LAMBDA is a writer of quite a different stamp. To his letter may be justly applied the expressive Italian proverb, 66 "Il suo soldo val tredeci danari." In examining his tit bit, there will be found only one argument, or ghost of an argument," or even shadow of a shade of one that savours of originality. Epsilon asserts of the "Wordsworthian blank verse," that we have nothing since Milton, simile aut secundum." If short E. had been, --I will not say a man of much reading," but of any information, he would have known that there really are such works as Dr. Young's sublime "Night Thoughts," and Cowper's incomparable "Task"-not to mention the fine "blank verse" of such beautiful writers as Addison, Thomson, Johnson, Porteus, Akenside, Dryden, and a host of others and that compared with these, the obscure and incomprehensible "blank verse of Wordsworth" must retire and hide its diminished head in "double darkness wrapt." If Epsilon had been at all acquainted with literature, he would not have exposed himself to the deri-nestly admitted that sion with which that part of his letter was read by ALL parties; while the other topics of his letter have been taken up by writers far his superior, urged with greater force, and placed in a much more luminous point of view. Next to the approbation of the wise and good, I prize the DIS-approbation of the ignorant; and on this account I am quite content that such a writer as Epsilon, who slanders Mr. Hazlitt, Sir Richard Phillips, Mr. Gibbon, and Lord Byron, should also malign Aristarchus. Epsilon's "praise is censure, and his censure praise." Having folded down the commencement of the 30th ode in Horace's 3d book, for the conclusion of my letter, knowing that Lord Byron by his poetry had erected a “monumentum ære perennius," &c. I regretted that Epsilon should have forced this truly beautiful poem into the service of Wordsworth. I shall now, however, endeavour to finish my letter with a classical quotation, equally beautiful, and Had only such advocates come forward on the side of Wordsworth, the question" would indeed have been 'simple," and soon decided. To de scend from such letters as G. J.'s and Lambda's, to the pathos of Epsilon's, may well excite the exclamation "O STUPENDUM saltum." I exceedingly regret that the length to which my letter has already extended, and the observations yet to be adduced, preclude my paying that particular attention to Lambda which he so pre-eminently deserves. Lambda having ho66 some parts of Wordsworth's poems are mean and grovelling," the controversy is now reduced to a question of degree-how far that "mean and grovelling" style pervades Wordsworth's productions; and on this point perhaps we had botter adopt the elegant advice of Gay; "Nor he, nor I, the point determine, Since different tastes please different ver min." It is much to be lamented, that so judicious a writer as Lambda should have confined his observations on the other side, to " Beppo, Don Juan, and Cain." Were these even entirely given up, Lord Byron's genius would shine with undiminished lustre : enough, and more than enough, would remain, after ages have rolled away, to usher in Lord Byron's glorious APOTHEOSIS. Though I cannot admit that the question respecting the superiority of the two poets ought to be decided by determining which works are best for children-since then Catullus must yield to Bavius-I will yet concede to Lambda (notwithstand |