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Who catch the Gallic smile-th' Ausonian mien,
And glossy manners of a foreign scene,

And thence returning, kindly spread around
The continental itch on British ground.

This is equal to a passage on the same subject in Cowper; but not to the politely scornful irony of a celebrated passage in Pope's shew-up of diplomatic nurselings :

Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,

And gather'd every vice on Christian ground, &c.

Dunciad, 4th Book 311, &c.

The following has great verve, and finishes with an expression perfectly Juvenalian, Carted round the world!' Nor is the insurrectionary vehemence of the fifth line less remarkable. Will Mr. Robert Montgomery's detractors say that this passage, evidently thrown off in mere playful power, is not poetry? They cannot master it by any passage in the English Bards.

Spirits that burn'd with an heroic glow,
Awake! arise! resume your reign below!
Again with Vice a valiant contest wage,
And blast the brazen monsters of the age;
Down with the domes where titled scoundrels meet;
And lash the dastard dogs from street to street,
Till every C- -d from his throne be hurl'd,

Cursed by the good, and carted round the world!

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This short outline of one alone of the Parnassian

throng', is bitterly dashed out;

Made up of every cold and jealous art,

Beloved by none he crawls his reptile way;

Stabs where he can, and slanders for his pay.

The next passage I shall adduce is equally energetic, and concludes with a thought of deadly and annihilating scorn.

Ye of the empty skull! unsafe, unsound,—
Ye critic-gnats, that sting and buzz around;
Obsequious grubs, whose idiotic page

Is wet-nurse to the wig-wams of the age,—
How shall the muse portray your petty arts,
Your addled heads, or your polluted hearts?

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"Tis hard to tell the baser of the two,

The one who writes or reads each quack review ;
Such letter'd cutthroats in the cause unite,
Such knaves direct them, and such numskulls write!
A critic!-that's a man, whose mind should be
Steep'd in the lore of sage antiquity;

Of taste well modell'd, and of judgment sound,—
Unprejudiced, untainted, and profound:

But say, amid the fry of critics now,

With dainty eye, and Aristarchian brow,

How seldom shall we find the man whose mind

Is fit to helm the judgment of mankind!

How much I scorn SOME ignominious crews,
Plump with the vulgar venom of reviews,—
How much I loathe their miserable yell,
Hate is too blunt, and verse too weak to tell:
If such upon this humble page of mine
Shall condescend to pen a fulsome line,
May the mean tools eject their rankest bile,
And dub me 66

'wretch," and all they deem more vile;
FROM THESE A LINE OF WELL INTENDED PRAISE
WOULD BE THE FOULEST BLOT UPON AN AUTHOR'S DAYS!

Concentrated Imagery is the main characteristic of Mr. Montgomery's style in his didactic poems. In his satires we see him under a different aspect. Ju

venal's power consists in an analogical propertythat of concentrating an entire logical argument into three or four energetic phrases—sometimes, indeed, condensing a whole thesis into a single word. This untranslateable writer,-(untranslateable without a circumlocution, which disguises, or misrepresents his true character-I say this, meo periculo, notwithstanding the excellent paraphrases of Hodgson, and even Gifford,) -effects the magical result sometimes by a collocation of words, varying their force like counters by position, often by prolepsis, often by briefly insinuating an inference, overstepping the logical stages by which it is reached. If several of Mr. Montgomery's words, in his imaginative poetry, concentrate similes, or resemble pictures, some of Juvenal's words resemble single algebraic characters, which represent an entire reasoning process. The latter's style is perfectly divested of images; and it will be seen that, with all his exuberant imagery in descriptive poems, Mr. Montgomery uses scarcely any in the Age Reviewed, but adapts himself, with the native tact and elasticity of genius, to the severe style appropriate to the subject, and of which Juvenal furnishes the model.

In the following passages, the rushing sonorousness of the verse, and the glowing vehemence of the denunciation, often rise above the common level of poetical satire to the sublime. To save space and time, I shall follow the example of my learned friends', -whose polite attention is solicited,-by criticising with italics

and notes of adıniration. At the same time they must accord me the liberty of arranging the satirical extracts in a dramatic form. Up curtain!

OVERTURE TO THE MARCH OF MIND.

·

Tune-the ROGUE'S MARCH.'

Delightful period!-dare we mock the truth,
When age puts on the wantonness of youth?
When female love is barter'd like her bed,
And griping beldames force the maid to wed,
When matrons wallow in eternal vice,

And palsied swindlers snivel o'er their dice; (!!)
Woe!' cries Britannia, sovereign of the sea,

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How sinecures and Germans plunder me;
Wet-nurse for aliens, and their toading trains,
I waste my mint, and desolate my plains;
While beastly eunuchs, if they twirl and squall,
Pipe on the stage, or straddle at a ball,
From my domain may pick voluptuous fare,
And pocket thousands for a gargled air ! (!!)

A few more bars of the same strain

Yes! every blockhead born to clean the mews,
To patch our breeches, or to mend our shoes,
Cocks his pert eye, uplifts his pompous brow,
And dubs himself a politician now. (!!)
Avaunt, ye minions!!

CONCLUDING CRASH.

Can aught of PATRIOTIC fervour grace
The heart-corruptions of your reptile race?
Will the foul frothings of ignoble spite
Protect your country or the freeman right?
Go!-dip your nasty quills in Grub-street mire,
Traduce for malice, and lampoon for hire;

Cling to the cursed columns that ye scrawl,
Like bloated beetles on a slime-lick'd wall;
There mask the foulness of your covert aim,
And strut in all the energy of shame! (!!)

Recipe for a Modern Tragedy.

Compound some proverbs of obscurest growth,
The mouldy remnants of the dust and moth;
Add quantums due of powder, flash, and smoke,
The scenic whistle, and the poniard's stroke,—
With all appliances of fort and gun,

Dish up five acts-the tragedy is done!

Six times shall thund'ring sticks, and hired huzzas,
Force the vile stuff, and wake the slow applause.
Ye managerial knaves, whose nod decides,
Whose pocket judges, and whose whim provides,
Before your glance the manuscript must shake,
And shirtless authors feel a fellow-quake.

[Enter a Persona Dramatis.]

6

'I'm first!' cries Fungus, unabash'd I'll stand, Nor step behind the noblest of the land!

Though scullion-bred, my kitchen tones declare,—
Should I deny-my mother basted there:
I rival Farquhar with my spotted hounds,
In domes, in palaces, and myrtle-grounds?
What boots a doughty title more than these,
While Erskine's ragged widow crave her cheese
And Thespian harlots swim the stage by night,
To keep their peers by day, and titles bright ?

[Enter Sir Punch.]

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A COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, OR JOLTERHEAD, ' M.P.

Burden'd with fate, SIR PUNCH to London goes, NOES' in his eyes, and 'AYES' upon his nose ;

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