BOILEAU'S "FIRST SATIRE,"

ROUGHLY DONE INTO ENGLISH.

DAMON the chimer, whose falsetto lines
To mirth the court and all the town inclines,
(But what their worth his dress abroad bespoke,
No shirt in summer, and no winter's cloak,)
Whose long lean body, and his famish'd face,
Ran, with his verse, for fame, and won the race
Poor Damon, tired of losing time and pains,
To force the frigid muse, and plough his brains;
Of borrowing first of this friend, then of that
Till some one asks, if he is much in debt;
With credit low scarce knowing what to do,
Resolves (perforce) to fly from public view -
Away from tipstaves, duns, and courts of law,
In search of peace he 'll never see, nor saw
Away, lest justice, long with him at strife,
Plunge him in durance, for his natural life;
Or worse, a green hat such the prospect now!
The laurel shames which decks his bashful brow.
He leaves the town, sadder the day he went
Than the sad penitent the last of Lent;
But as he turns its spires once more he views,
And vents his anger in these dull adieus :

-

Since in this place, where once the muse abode,

Nor merit nor even wit are à-la-mode,
And a poor poet's like one cursed of God;
Since virtue has no place and no respect,
Her altars unapproach'd, her fanes undeck'd,-
I'll fly to some lone cave or distant rock,
And all the bailiffs' old manœuvres mock;
On close seclusion's friendly shade rely,
The tipstaves' coarse compelling arts defy;
And, not to pester heaven with foolish vows,
From time's deep injuries myself I'll house;
For, thanks to luck or providence, I'm free
Age has not laid his weight of years on me -
My sturdy limbs support an active frame,
Nor shall reverse my haughty metal tame.
The ills or hopes behind, with destiny

I leave, and calmly wait its just decree.

Let George live here, for George knows how to live,
And how, by various crafty means, to thrive.
By gold's judicious aid, he learnt to mount,

And lackey once, and pimp, is now a Count.

An insolvent debtor might be released from gaol, on condition of wearing for the future un bonnet verd, which was publicly put on his head.

Let Paquin live here too, and ply his trade-
Outdo the mischief war or pest e'er made;
Then tell his manors by the alphabet,

I!

And lo! they form a "Calepin" complete.
He has the right to please himself, of course,
And may do better- and he may do worse.
But I live here! with such as these are
What should I do? I cannot cheat or lie -
And, if I could, the base deceit would fly:
I cannot play the scoundrel, and require
Of some offended fool the secret hire
For writing down a foe at his demand,
And clear his mean affronts at second hand;
Nor with my sonnets flatter all the town,

Though sweet the palatable draught glides down;
And though the bidder's coin might stock my purse,
I cannot sell my praises or my verse:

I'm rustic, blunt-my lips tell all I know;
Whate'er a thing is, straight I call it so;

An independent candour nature gave –
A cat with me's a cat

Roletta knave;

I cannot urge the love-sick youth's caress,
And win a lady's heart with soft address:

I linger here a poor dull sad recluse,

And more than worthless grown by long disuse.

But why, you say, though fate has cross'd your hope,

Turn puling eremite, or misanthrope?

To wealth some few stiff notions we allow,

But supple poverty should always bow:

"T is there the author, press'd for want of peace,
Resists the stars and their curst influence;
And thus that fate in this hard iron age,
In sheer burlesque, dubs Pelletier a sage;
Or on some shallow pedant—say Riviere‡
Moulds an ungraceful shallow kind of peer.

So fortune sports with virtue! Need I name
Him now, so favour'd by the jilting dame?
And as the coach with cumbrous blazon strown,
The unskilful driver leads to where 't is thrown;
So he, by fatal schemes and long rehearsed,
Would ruin half the country if he durst.

I know that fear in this at least he's wise.
Has, for the present, hid him from our eyes;
But, with the coming season, he'll return

With pompous show, and each in triumph spurn,
Flush'd with the spoil from hungry thousands torn,
And Heaven's just indignation laugh to scorn;

* Book of extracts.

A notorious lawyer, condemned at last to make restitution for his knaveries, and then to perpetual banishment.

Abbé de la Riviere, promoted to the bishopric of Langres.

While poor Colletel*, bespattered to the head,
Ekes out, from board to board, his daily bread;
Skill'd in the painful craft, which smooth Montmaur †
Taught to choice eaters, gratis, long before.

'Tis true the king a gracious hand extends

To make the muse, at length, some spare amends,
The fatal blindness of his youth recalls ‡,
And limping Phoebus from the hospitals;
But if the fount's confined, the streams are few-
Without Mæcenas, what can Cæsar do?
Who now in these harsh times would patronise
My threadbare suit and looks, and push my rise?
Or if some generous spirit might be found,
How shall he pierce the needy throng around
Of tattered rhymers, scrambling to receive
The smallest trifle chance or he may give
In praise or current coin? The grateful crowd
Soon reap the harvest which their betters sow'd:
So barren, brainless drones, the types of these,
Spoil the sweet store of honey-making bees.
Be mine to scorn whate'er 's to dulness given,
Or only when by noisy clamour driven,
Merit has no reward on this side heaven.

Saint Amand's § genius on this time-worn stage
Was his sole lot a coat his heritage —

A bed and stool his worldly goods comprised,
And would be dear at nothing's worth appraised:
He, taunted by a poor and unknown name,
Enlists that nothing to create a fame.

Charged with the precious song, of hope the sport,
The young enthusiast seeks the polish'd court.
How tell the tale of his afflicted muse?
Stabb'd by the sneer which every throb renews,
O'erwhelmed with shame and coarse insult, he flies,
And, near his home once more, heart-broken dies.
The speedier fever drinks his failing breath,
And kindly cheats slow famine's lingering death.
Genius at court! The fashion 's out of date,
'T is of all bores the most unfortunate.
The finest wit or writer you shall see,
Will never reach the lot of Angeli. ||

Must I thenceforward play another part,
Forsake the charming shell for Barlbole's art?
In silk and lawn cite Brodeau on Louet,

And clear the court at every dull display?

That court where Patru gains less than Mezier,
And all the Ciceros are Pé-Fournier ! ¶

A very poor poet, who composed a great deal.

† A celebrated parasite Ménage wrote his life. Colbert had just pensioned several men of letters.

There are several works of his indicating some genius. He was ignorant of the classics, and
The king's jester.

very poor.

Pierre Fournier, a celebrated lawyer, familiarly called Pé-Fournier.

My soul recoils at e'en the fancied dream.
I plead for wrong! and justify the theme!
In purest innocence detect a flaw,

Lost in the cruel labyrinth of law !

Or by heap'd precedents, in truth's despite,
Prove black at bottom is undoubted white!
Before I steep myself in such a crime,
The Seine shall turn to ice in summer-time
Arnaud or Clarenton a Huguenot→→→

Saint Lorlin Jansenist -a wit Quinaut.

And now to quit, for aye, this guilty town, Where honour battles hard with fortune's frown; Where brazen vice erects his sovereign stand Mitre on head he stalks, and cross in hand; Where science, dull

By taste is scouted

pedantic- obsolete,

a discovered cheat;

Where the best act is how to pilfer well;
Where all offends me more than I dare tell.
Who can restrain his overflowing bile
At its vile aspect, and its manners vile?

Or, but for once and virtue's sake sublime,

'Spite Muse or Phœbus, would not turn a rhyme ?
To pour the scorching strain with nature's skill,
Demands no rescript from Parnassus' hill;
Nor the calm vale beneath to burn the fire

A virtuous rage is worth Apollo's lyre.

But psha! my friend, you cry-pray where's the use
Of these tirades? and, soft! - can you produce
Your licence to assume the pulpit's right,
And preach your drowsy audience into night?
'Tis there alone that one submits to hear

Of good and ill, and so forth

- pray forbear.

Thus rails the uneasy mind that satire wakes,

THE CONVICT SYSTEM OF VAN DIEMEN'S LAND.

By FREDERICK MAITLAND INNES.*

THE spirit of inquiry which so peculiarly distinguishes the present age, and which is gradually exposing to the test of improved science and philosophy some of the most important institutions and arrangements of society, has recently been directed to the detail, operation, and general influence of a system of convict management, through which, within the space of half a century, more than a hundred thousand British criminals have been committed to pass, and on which an expenditure approaching to eight millions sterling has been made. The inquiry, conducted by an able and persevering committee of the House of Commons, has unfolded a compound rarely paralleled in the history of political combination, whether it be viewed in itself or in its results. The integrity, however, of the committee has been questioned; the credibility of the evidence received by them has been disputed; and their labours have been exposed to all that sort of opposition which comes from the boasters of "practical," which means partial or limited, experience; from the opponents of "theory," which means any improvement in the place of existing abuse; and from the claimants of "vested interests," who are the fraction against the whole. It might perhaps be sufficient to overthrow the defences thus generally characterised to state them; but, independently of the dulness of arguing against folly, and of analysing verbiage, which generally provides its own antidote, better service may be done by submitting the arrangements of the system in question, detailing their operation, and characterising their social consequences, as these have respectively struck a very recent and attentive ob

server.

According to the "system" of convict management in operation till within a very recent date, on the arrival of a transport vessel in Van Diemen's Land a return was delivered to the local government by the surgeon-superintendent of the vessel, showing the number, age, birthplace, crime, period and place of conviction, sentence, whether married, whether able to read and write or either, trade, character from the jailer and from the hulk, alleged qualifications, behaviour on board the transport, with a reference to each convict. An abstract embracing these particulars was submitted to the lieutenant-governor, and from him passed to the Assignment Board, - a board composed of four officers of the government, not necessarily or generally all of the police department, whose duties were to consider the return or abstract in connection with applications for assigned men or women, wanted either for public (government) or for private service. The state of assignment corresponds, in its essential features, to the state of slavery, and, in reference to the convict, was determined by an economical demand on the one hand, and by a corresponding supply on the other. The regulated condition of a felon in assigned service will be most unobjectionably shown in the words of the official memorandum particularising it; and from this I quote: "He is required to devote his whole time, and his best services, from morn to night, to his master. A fixed but limited ration is

We consider it essential to the interests of truth that a paper of this description should bear the impress of authority and responsibility; and therefore it appears with the name of the author, -- a gentleman who has resided for some years in Van Diemen's Land, where he was proprietor and editor of a public journal. - ED. M. Ć.