• represented as the father and husband to the city ' of Rome.'

Very true, sir,' cries the author;

very fine, ❝ indeed. Not only the father of his country, but the husband too; very noble, truly!'

Pardon me, sir,' cries Booth, I do not conceive that to have been Lucan's meaning. If you please 'to observe the context; Lucan having commended 'the temperance of Cato, in the instances of diet and cloaths, proceeds to venereal pleasures; of which, says the poet, his principal use was procreation; then he adds, Urbi pater est, Urbique Maritus; that he became a father and a husband, for the sake only of the city.'

Upon my word that's true,' cries the author; I did not think of it. It is much finer than the other.-Urbis pater est-what is the other;-ayUrbis Maritus.-It is certainly as you say, sir.'

Booth was by this pretty well satisfied of the author's profound learning; however, he was willing to try him a little farther. He asked him, therefore, what was his opinion of Lucan in general, and in what class of writers he ranked him?

The author stared a little at this question; and, after some hesitation, answered, Certainly, sir, I ⚫ think he is a fine writer, and a very great poet.' I am very much of the same opinion,' cries Booth; · but where do you class him, next to what poet do you place him?' 'Let me see,' cries the author, where do I class him! next to whom do I place him!-Ay !— why-why, pray, where do you yourself place • him?'

Why, surely,' cries Booth, if he is not to be placed in the first rank with Homer, and Virgil, and Milton, I think clearly, he is at the head of the second; before either Statius or Silius Italicus, -Though I allow to each of these their merits;

but, perhaps, an epic poem was beyond the genius of either. I own, I have often thought, if Statius had ventured no farther than Ovid or Claudian, he would have succeeded better; for his Sylvæ are, in my opinion, much better than his Thebaïs."

I believe I was of the same opinion formerly,' said the author.

• And for what reason have you altered it?' cries Booth.

'I have not altered it,' answered the author; but, ' to tell you the truth, I have not any opinion at all about these matters at present. I do not trouble my head much with poetry; for there is no encouragement to such studies in this age. It is true, indeed, I have now and then wrote a poem or two for the Magazines, but I never intend to 'write any more; for a gentleman is not paid for his time. A sheet is a sheet with the booksellers; and, whether it be in prose or verse, they make no difference; though certainly there is as much ' difference to a gentleman in the work, as there is to a tailor between making a plain and a laced suit. Rhimes are difficult things; they are stubborn things, sir. I have been sometimes longer in tagging a couplet, than I have been in writing a speech on the side of the opposition, which hath been read with great applause all over the king• dom.’

'I am glad you are pleased to confirm that,' cries Booth; for I protest it was an intire secret to me till this day. I was so perfectly ignorant, that I thought the speeches published in the Magazines were really made by the members themselves.' 'Some of them, and I believe I may, without vanity, say the best,' cries the author, are all 'the productions of my own pen; but, I believe, I • shall leave it off soon, unless a sheet of speech will fetch more than it does at present. In truth, the

'romance-writing is the only branch of our business now that is worth following. Goods of that sort have had so much success lately in the market, that a bookseller scarce cares what he bids for 'them. And it is certainly the easiest work in the world; you may write it almost as fast as you can set pen to paper; and if you interlard it with a little scandal, a little abuse on some living charac'ters of note, you cannot fail of success.'

• Upon my word, sir,' cries Booth, you have greatly instructed me, I could not have imagined there had been so much regularity in the trade of writing as you are pleased to mention; by what I can perceive, the pen and ink is likely to become the staple commodity of the kingdom.'

Alas! sir,' answered the author, it is overstocked. The market is overstocked. There is no encouragement to merit, no patrons. I have been these five years soliciting a subscription for my new translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, with notes explanatory, historical, and critical; and I ⚫ have scarce collected five hundred names yet.'

The mention of this translation a little surprised Booth; not only as the author had just declared his intentions to forsake the tuneful Muses; but for some other reasons, which he had collected from his conversation with our author, he little expected to hear of a proposal to translate any of the Latin poets. He proceeded, therefore, to catechise him a little farther; and by his answers was fully satisfied, that he had the very same acquaintance with Ovid, that he had appeared to have with Lucan.

The author then pulled out a bundle of papers, containing proposals for his subscription, and receipts; and addressing himself to Booth, said, Though the place in which we meet, sir, is an improper place to solicit favours of this kind; yet, perhaps, it may be in your power to serve me, if

you will charge your pockets with some of these." Booth was just offering at an excuse, when the bailiff introduced colonel James and the serjeant.

The unexpected visit of a beloved friend to a man in affliction, especially in Mr. Booth's situation, is a comfort which can scarce be equalled; not barely from the hopes of relief or redress, by his assistance; but as it is an evidence of sincere friendship, which scarce admits of any doubt or suspicion. Such an instance doth indeed make a man amends for all ordinary troubles and distresses; and we ought to think ourselves gainers, by having had such an opportunity of discovering, that we are possessed of one of the most valuable of all human possessions.

Booth was so transported at the sight of the colonel, that he dropped the proposals which the author had put into his hands, and burst forth into the highest professions of gratitude to his friend; who behaved very properly on his side, and said every thing which became the mouth of a friend on the

occasion.

It is true, indeed, he seemed not moved equally, either with Booth or the serjeant; both whose eyes watered at the scene. In truth, the colonel, though a very generous man, had not the least grain of tenderness in his disposition. His mind was formed of those firm materials, of which nature formerly hammered out the Stoic, and upon which the sorrows of no man living could make an impression. A man of this temper, who doth not much value danger, will fight for the person he calls his friend; and the man that hath but little value for his money will give it him; but such friendship is never to be absolutely depended on; for whenever the favourite passion interposes with it, it is sure to subside and vanish into air. Whereas the man whose tender disposition really feels the miseries of another, will

endeavour to relieve them for his own sake; and, in such a mind, friendship will often get the superi ority over every other passion.

But from whatever motive it sprung, the colonel's behaviour to Booth seemed truly amiable; and so it appeared to the author, who took the first occasion to applaud it in a very florid oration; which the reader, when he recollects that he was a speechmaker by profession, will not be surprised at; nor, perhaps, will be much more surprised, that he soon after took an occasion of clapping a proposal into the colonel's hands; holding at the same time a receipt very visible in his own.

The colonel received both, and gave the author a guinea in exchange, which was double the sum mentioned in the receipt; for which the author made a low bow, and very politely took his leave, saying, I suppose, gentlemen, you may have some private business together; I heartily wish a speedy end to your confinement; and I congratulate you on the possessing so great, so noble, and so generous a friend.'

CHAP. VI.

Which inclines rather to Satire than Panegyric. THE colonel had the curiosity to ask Booth the name of the gentleman, who, in the vulgar language, had struck, or taken him in for a guinea, with so much ease and dexterity. Booth answered, he did not know his name; all that he knew of him was, that he was the most impudent and illite- . rate fellow he had ever seen; and that, by his own account, he was the author of most of the wonder