TO THE EDITOR OF THE ATHENÆUM, MY DEAR SIR,—The following Ode was written anticipating the tone of some strictures on my writings, by the gentleman to whom it is addressed. I have not seen his book; but I know by hearsay that some of my verses are characterised as "profaneness and ribaldry”—citing, in proof, the description of a certain sow, from whose jaw a cabbage sprout Protruded, as the dove so staunch For peace supports an olive branch. If the printed works of my Censor had not prepared me for any misapplication of types, I should have been surprised by this misapprehension of one of the commonest emblems. In some cases the dove unquestionably stands for the Divine Spirit; but the same bird is also a lay representative of the peace of this world, and, as such, has figured time out of mind in allegorical pictures. The sense in which it was used by me is plain from the context; at least, it would be plain to any one but a fisher for faults, predisposed to carp at some things, to dab at others, and to flounder in all. But I am possibly in error. It is the female swine, perhaps, that is profaned in the eyes of the Oriental tourist. Men find strange ways of marking their intolerance; and the spirit is certainly strong enough, in Mr. W.'s works, to set up a creature as sacred, in sheer opposition to the Mussulman, with whom she is a beast of abomination. It would only be going the whole sow. I am, dear Sir, yours very truly, THOS. HOOD. 1837. ODE TO RAE WILSON, ESQUIRE. "Close, close your eyes with holy dread, And drunk the milk of Paradise!" "It's very hard them kind of men COLERIDGE. OLD BALLAD. A WANDERER, Wilson, from my native land, I guess the features:—in a line to paint Those pseudo Privy Councillors of God, Who write down judgments with a pen hard-nibb'd; Of such a character no single trace A face profane, that would not do at all That Hall where bigots rant, and cant, and pray, And laud each other face to face, Till ev'ry farthing-candle ray Conceives itself a great gas-light of grace! Well!-be the graceless lineaments confest! "Within the limits of becoming mirth ;"- To call and twit him with a godly tract What else? no part I take in party fray, I own I shake my And treat sham Abr'am saints with wicked banters, I even own, that there are times-but then It's when I've got my wine-I say d- canters ! I've no ambition to enact the spy On fellow souls, a Spiritual Pry 'Tis said that people ought to guard their noses Your Saint, yet I consider faith and pray'rs I do not hash the Gospel in my books, On Bible stilts I don't affect to stalk; |