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(ere his reputation was established, and he came I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man; to be 'over-companied' by social visitors), he Like an ingrate I left my friend abruptly ; invested his original thoughts and fancies, and
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces. drew up his curious analogies and speculations in Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood; a garb similar to that which his favourites wore. Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Then Lamb was essentially a town-man-a true Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Londoner-fond as Johnson of Fleet Street and the Strand-a frequenter of the theatre, and
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, attached to social habits, courtesies, and observ
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? ances. His acute powers of observation were con
So might we talk of the old familiar facesstantly called into play, and his warm sympathies How some they have died, and some they have left me, excited by the shifting scenes around him. His And some are taken from me ; all are departed; kindliness of nature, his whims, puns, and preju All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. dices, give a strong individuality to his writings; while in playful humour, critical taste, and choice
A Farewell to Tobacco. expression, Charles Lamb may be considered among English essayists a genuine and original
May the Babylonish curse master. Mr Proctor (Barry Cornwall), who wrote
Straight confound my stammering verse,
If I can a passage see a slight Memoir of his friend in 1866, said he
In this word-perplexity, saw the essence of Lamb's genius in the facts
Or a fit expression find, that he wrote from his feelings, and that he loved
Or a language to my mindold books and old times.'
Still the phrase is wide or scant
To take leave of thee, Great Plant !
Or in any terms relate
Half my love, or half my hate :
For I hate, yet love thee so,
That, whichever thing I shew,
The plain truth will seem to be
A constrained hyperbole,
And the passion to proceed
More from a mistress than a weed.
Sooty retainer to the vine,
Bacchus' black servant, negro fine ;
Sorcerer, that mak’st us dote upon
Thy begrimed complexion,
And, for thy pernicious sake,
More and greater oaths to break
Than reclaimed lovers take
'Gainst women : thou thy siege dost lay I shall it call : if 'twas not pride,
Much too in the female way,
While thou suck'st the lab'ring breath
Faster than kisses or than death.
Thou in such a cloud dost bind us,
That our worst foes cannot find us,
And ill-fortune, that would thwart us,
Shoots at rovers, shooting at us ;
While each man, through thy height’ning
Does like a smoking Etna seem,
And all about us does express
Fancy and wit in richest dress-
A Sicilian fruitfulness.
Thou through such a mist dost shew us,
That our best friends do not know us,
And, for those allowed features,
Due to reasonable creatures,
Liken'st us to fell Chimeras,
Monsters that, who see us, fear us ;
Worse than Cerberus or Geryon,
Bacchus we know, and we allow
His tipsy rites. But what art thou,
That but by reflex canst shew In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days;
What his deity can do, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
As the false Egyptian spell
Aped the true Hebrew miracle? I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Some few vapours thou mayst raise, Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom-cronies;
The weak brain may serve to amaze, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
But to the reins and nobler heart, I loved a love once, fairest among women ;
Canst nor life nor heat impart. Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her ;
Brother of Bacchus, later born, All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
The old world was sure forlorn
Wanting thee, that aidest more
Though a widow, or divorced, The god's victories than before
So I, from thy converse forced, All his panthers, and the brawls
The old name and style retain, Of his piping Bacchanals.
A right Katherine of Spain ; These, as stale, we disallow,
And a seat, too, 'mongst the joys Or judge of the meant; only thou
Of the blest Tobacco Boys; His true Indian conquest art ;
Where, though I, by sour physician, And, for ivy round his dart,
Am debarred the full fruition The reformed god now weaves
Of thy favours, I may catch A finer thyrsus of thy leaves.
Some collateral sweets, and snatch
Sidelong odours, that give life Scent to match thy rich perfume
Like glances from a neighbour's wife; Chemic art did ne'er presume ;
And still live in the by-places Through her quaint alembic strain,
And the suburbs of thy graces; None so sov'reign to the brain :
And in thy borders take delight, Nature, that did in thee excel,
An unconquered Canaanite. Framed again no second smell.
The following are selections from Lamb's Roses, violets, but toys For the smaller sort of boys,
Essays, some of which, amidst their quaint fancies, Or for greener damsels meant ;
contain more of the exquisite materials of poetry Thou art the only manly scent.
than his short occasional verses. Stinking'st of the stinking kind,
Dream-children-A Reverie. Filth of the mouth and fog of the mind,
Children love to listen to stories about their elders, Africa, that brags her foison,
when they were children ; to stretch their imagination Breeds no such prodigious poison ;
to the conception of a traditionary great-uncle, or granHenbane, nightshade, both together,
dame, whom they never saw. It was in this spirit that Hemlock, aconite
my little ones crept about me the other evening to hear Nay, rather,
about their great-grandmother Field, who lived in a Plant divine, of rarest virtue ;
great house in Norfolk-a hundred times bigger than Blisters on the tongue would hurt you.
that in which they and papa lived-which had been the 'Twas but in a sort I blamed thee;
scene—so at least it was generally believed in that part None e'er prospered who defamed thee; of the country—of the tragic incidents which they had Irony all, and feigned abuse,
lately become familiar with from the ballad of the Such as perplexed lovers use
Children in the Wood. Certain it is that the whole At a need, when, in despair
story of the children and their cruel uncle was to be To paint forth their fairest fair,
seen fairly carved out in wood upon the chimney-piece Or in part but to express
of the great hall, the whole story down to the Robin That exceeding comeliness
Redbreasts, till a foolish rich person pulled it down to Which their fancies doth so strike,
set up a marble one of modern invention in its stead, They borrow language of dislike;
with no story upon it. Here Alice put out one of her And, instead of Dearest Miss,
dear mother's looks, too tender to be called upbraiding. Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss,
Then I went on to say how religious and how good And those forms of old admiring,
their great-grandmother Field was, how beloved and Call her Cockatrice and Siren,
respected by everybody, though she was not indeed the Basilisk, and all that 's evil,
mistress of this great house, but had only the charge of Witch, Hyena, Mermaid, Devil,
it-and yet in some respects she might be said to be the Ethiop, Wench, and Blackamoor,
mistress of it too-committed to her by the owner, who Monkey, Ape, and twenty more ;
preferred living in a newer and more fashionable manFriendly Trait'ress, loving Foe
sion which he had purchased somewhere in the adjoinNot that she is truly so,
ing county; but still she lived in it in a manner as if it But no other way they know
had been her own, and kept up the dignity of the great A contentment to express,
house in a sort while she lived, which afterwards came Borders so upon excess,
to decay, and was nearly pulled down, and all its old That they do not rightly wot
ornaments stripped and carried away to the owner's Whether it be pain or not.
other house, where they were set up, and looked as
awkward as if some one were to carry away the old Or, as men, constrained to part
tombs they had seen lately at the Abbey, and stick them With what's nearest to their heart,
up in Lady C.'s tawdry gilt drawing-room. Here John While their sorrow's at the height,
smiled, as much as to say, 'That would be foolish indeed.' Lose discrimination quite,
And then I told how, when she came to die, her funeral And their hasty wrath let fall,
was attended by a concourse of all the poor, and some To appease their frantic gall,
of the gentry too, of the neighbourhood for many miles On the darling thing whatever,
round, to shew their respect for her memory, because Whence they feel it death to sever,
she had been such a good and religious woman ; so Though it be, as they, perforce,
good, indeed, that she knew all the Psaltery by heart, ay, Guiltless of the sad divorce.
and a great part of the Testament besides. Here little For I must-nor let it grieve thee,
Alice spread her hands. Then I told what a tall, Friendliest of plants, that I must-leave thee; upright, graceful person their great-grandmother Field For thy sake, Tobacco, I
once was; and how in her youth she was esteemed the Would do anything but die,
best dancer. Here Alice's little right foot played an And but seek to extend my days
involuntary movement, till, upon my looking grave, it Long enough to sing thy praise.
desisted—the best dancer, I was saying, in the county, But as she, who once hath been
till a cruel disease, called a cancer, came, and bowed A king's consort, is a queen
her down with pain ; but it could never bend her good Ever after, nor will bate
spirits, or make them stoop, but they were still upright, Any tittle of her state,
because she was so good and religious. Then I told
how she was used to sleep by herself in a lone chamber quarrelled sometimes—rather than not have him again ; of the great lone house ; and how she believed that an and was as uneasy without him, as he, their poor uncle, apparition of two infants was to be seen at midnight must have been when the doctor took off his limb. gliding up and down the great staircase near where she Here the children fell a-crying, and asked if their little slept ; but she said 'those innocents would do her no mourning which they had on was not for Uncle John; harm;' and how frightened I used to be, though in and they looked up and prayed me not to go on about those days I had my maid to sleep with me, because I their uncle, but to tell them some stories about their was never half so good or religious as she--and yet I pretty dead mother. Then I told how, for seven long never saw the infants. Here John expanded all his years, in hope_sometimes, sometimes in despair, yet eyebrows, and tried to look courageous. Then I told persisting ever, I courted the fair Alice W-n; and, as how good she was to all her grandchildren, having us to much as children could understand, I explained to the great house in the holidays, where I, in particular, them what coyness, and difficulty, and denial meant in used to spend many hours by myself in gazing upon the maidens; when suddenly turning to Alice, the soul old busts of the twelve Cæsars that had been emperors of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a of Rome, till the old marble heads would seem to live reality of re-presentment, that I became in doubt which again, or I to be turned into marble with them; how I of them stood there before me, or whose that bright hair never could be tired with roaming about that huge was; and while I stood gazing, both the children mansion, with its vast empty rooms, with their worn-out gradually grew fainter to my view, receding, and still hangings, fluttering tapestry, and carved oaken panels, receding, till nothing at last but two mournful features with the gilding almost rubbed out--sometimes in the were seen in the uttermost distance, which, without spacious old-fashioned gardens, which I had almost to speech, strangely impressed upon me the effects of myself, unless when now and then a solitary gardening speech : ‘We are not of Alice, nor of thee; nor are we man would cross me—and how the nectarines and children at all. The children of Alice call Bartrum peaches hung upon the walls, without my ever offering father. We are nothing, less than nothing, and dreams. to pluck them, because they were forbidden fruit, unless We are only what might have been, and must wait now and then, and because I had more pleasure in upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before strolling about among the old melancholy-looking yew- we have existence and a name;' and immediately trees, or the firs, and picking up the red berries and the awaking, I found myself quietly seated in my bachelor fir apples, which were good for nothing but to look at; arm-chair, where I had fallen asleep, with the faithful or in lying about upon the fresh grass, with all the fine Bridget unchanged by my side—but John L. (or James garden smells around me; or basking in the orangery, till Elia) was gone for ever. I could almost fancy myself ripening, too, along with the oranges and the limes, in that grateful warmth; or in watching the dace that darted to and fro in the fishpond
Poor Relations. at the bottom of the garden, with here and there a A poor relation is the most irrelevant thing in nature, great sulky pike hanging midway down the water in a piece of impertinent correspondency, an odious apsilent state, as if it mocked at their impertinent friskings. proximation, à haunting conscience, a preposterous I had more pleasure in these busy-idle diversions than shadow, lengthening in the noontide of your prosperity, in all the sweet flavours of peaches, nectarines, oranges, an unwelcome remembrancer, a perpetually recurring and such-like common baits of children. Here John mortification, a drain on your purse, a more intolerable slyly deposited back upon the plate a bunch of grapes, dun upon your pride, a drawback upon success, a rebuke which, not unobserved by Alice, he had meditated to your rising, a stain in your blood, a blot on your dividing with her, and both seemed willing to relinquish scutcheon, a rent in your garment, a death's-head at them for the present as irrelevant. Then, in somewhat your banquet, Agathocles pot, a Mordecai in your a more heightened tone, I told how, though their great-gate, a Lazarus at your door, a lion in your path, a grandmother Field loved all her grandchildren, yet in frog in your chamber, a fly in your ointment, a mote an especial manner she might be said to love their in your eye, a triumph to your enemy, an apology to uncle, John because he was so handsome and your friends, the one thing not needful, the hail in spirited a youth, and a king to the rest of us; and, harvest, the ounce of sour in a pound of sweet. instead of moping about in solitary corners, like some He is known by his knock. Your heart telleth you, of us, he would mount the most mettlesome horse he 'That is Mr - A rap between familiarity and could get, when but an imp no bigger than themselves, respect, that demands, and at the same time seems to and make it carry him hall over the county in a morn: despair of entertainment. He entereth smiling and ing, and join the hunters when there were any out ; and embarrassed. He holdeth out his hand to you to shake, yet he loved the old great house and gardens too, but and draweth it back again. He casually looketh in had too much spirit to be always pent up within their about dinner-time, when the table is full. 'He offereth boundaries; and how their uncle grew up to man's to go away, seeing you have company, but is induced estate as brave as he was handsome, to the admiration to stay. He filleth a chair, and your visitor's two of everybody, but of their great-grandmother Field children are accommodated at a side-table. He never most especially; and how he used to carry me upon cometh upon open days, when your wife says with some his back when I was a lame-footed boy-for he was a complacency : My dear, perhaps Mr - will drop in good bit older than me-many a mile when I could not to-day.' He remembereth birthdays, and professeth he walk for pain ; and how, in after-life, he became lame- is fortunate to have stumbled upon one. He declareth footed too, and I did not always, I fear, make allowances against fish, the turbot being small
, yet suffereth himself enough for him when he was impatient and in pain, to be importuned into a slice against his first resolution. nor remember sufficiently how considerate he had been He sticketh by the port, yet will be prevailed upon to to me when I was lame-footed; and how, when he died, empty the remainder glass of claret, if a stranger press though he had not been dead an hour, it seemed as if it upon him. He is a puzzle to the servants, who are he had died a great while ago, such a distance there fearful of being too obsequious, or not civil enough to is betwixt life and death; and how I bore his death, as him. The guests think they have seen him before.' I thought, pretty well at first, but afterwards it haunted Every one speculateth upon his condition ; and the and haunted me; and though I did not cry or take it most part take him to be a tide-waiter. He calleth to heart as some do, and as I think he would have done you bý your Christian name, to imply that his other is if I had died, yet I missed him all day long, and knew the same with your own. He is too familiar by half, not till then how much I had loved him. I missed his yet you wish he had less diffidence. With half the kindness, and I missed his crossness, and wished him familiarity, he might pass for a casual dependent; with to be alive again, to be quarrelling with him—for we more boldness, he would be in no danger of being taken
for what he is. He is too humble for a friend, yet part of their poor mansion, till it was reduced to ashes. taketh on him more state than befits a client. He is a Together with the cottage (a sorry antediluvian makeworse guest than a country tenant, inasmuch as he shift of a building, you may think it), what was of much bringeth up no rent ; yet 'tis odds, from his garb and more importance, a fine litter of new-farrowed pigs, no demeanour, that your guests take him for one. He is less than nine in number, perished. China pigs have asked to make one at the whist-table ; refuseth on the been esteemed a luxury all over the East, from the score of poverty, and resents being left out. When the remotest periods that we read of. Bo-bo was in the company break up, he proffereth to go for a coach, and utmost consternation, as you may think, not so much lets the servant go. He recollects your grandfather; for the sake of the tenement, which his father and he and will thrust in some mean and quite unimportant could easily build up again with a few dry branches, and anecdote of the family. He knew it when it was not the labour of an hour or two, at any time, as for the loss quite so flourishing as he is blest in seeing it now.' He of the pigs. While he was thinking what he should reviveth past situations, to institute what he calleth fav- say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking ourable comparisons. With a reflecting sort of congrat- remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odour ulation he will inquire the price of your furniture; and assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before insult you with a special commendation of your window- experienced. What could it proceed from?--not from curtains. He is of opinion that the urn is the more the burnt cottage-he had smelt that smell beforeelegant shape ; but, after all, there was something more indeed this was by no means the first accident of the kind comfortable about the old tea-kettle, which you must which had occurred through the negligence of this unremember. He dare say you must find a great conveni- lucky young fire-brand. Much less did it resemble that of ence in having a carriage of your own, and appealeth to any known herb, weed, or flower. A premonitory moistyour lady if it is not so. Inquireth if you have had ening at the same time overflowed his nether líp. He your arms done on vellum yet; and did not know till knew not what to think. He next stooped down to feel lately that such and such had been the crest of the the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burned family. His memory is unseasonable, his compliments his fingers, and to cool them he applied them in his perverse, his talk a trouble, his stay pertinacious ; and booby fashion to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of the when he goeth away, you dismiss his chair into a corner scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for as precipitately as possible, and feel fairly rid of two the first time in his life (in the world's life, indeed, for nuisances.
before him no man had known it) he tasted—crackling ! There is a worse evil under the sun, and that is Again he felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn female poor relation. You may do something with the him so much now, still he licked his fingers from a sort other ; you may pass him off tolerably well, but your of habit. The
truth at length broke into his slow underindigent she-relative is hopeless. 'He is an old humor-standing that it was the pig that smelt so, and the pig ist, you may say, 'and affects to go threadbare. His that tasted so delicious; and surrendering himself up to circumstances are better than folks would take them to the new-born pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handbe. You are fond of having a character at your table, fuls of the scorched skin with the flesh next it, and was and truly he is one. But in the indications of female cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when poverty there can be no disguise. No woman dresses his sire entered amid the smoking rafters, armed with below herself from caprice. The truth must out with retributory cudgel, and finding how affairs stood, began out shuffling. She is plainly related to the L-s, or to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders, as thick what does she at their house?' She is, in all proba- as hail-stones, which Bo-bo heeded not any more than bility, your wife's cousin. Nine times out of ten, at if they had been flies. The tickling pleasure which he least, this is the case. Her garb is something between experienced in his lower regions had rendered him quite a gentlewoman and a beggar, yet the former evidently callous to any inconveniences he might feel in those predominates. She is most provokingly humble, and remote quarters. His father might lay on, but he could ostentatiously sensible to her inferiority. He may re- not beat him from his pig, till he had fairly made an end quire to be repressed sometimes—aliquando sufflamin- of it, when, becoming a little more sensible of his situaandus erat—but there is no raising her. You send her tion, something like the following dialogue ensued. soup at dinner, and she begs to be helped after the "You graceless whelp, what have you got there gentlemen. Mr-requests the honour of taking wine devouring? Is it not enough that you have burned me with her ; she hesitates between port and Madeira, and down three houses with your dog's tricks, and be chooses the former because he does. She calls the hanged to you ! but you must be eating fire, and I know servant sir; and insists on not troubling him to hold not what-what have you got there, I say?" her plate. The housekeeper patronises her.
O father, the pig, the pig! do come and taste how children's governess takes upon her to correct her nice the burnt pig eats.' when she has mistaken the piano for a harpsichord. The ears of Ho-ti tingled with horror. He cursed his
son, and he cursed himself that ever he should beget a The Origin of Roast Pig.
son that should eat burnt pig.
Bo-bo, whose scent was wonderfully sharpened since Mankind, says a Chinese manuscript, which my friend morning, soon raked out another pig, and fairly rending M. was obliging enough to read and explain to me, it asunder, thrust the lesser half by main force into the for the first seventy thousand ages ate their meat raw, fists of Ho-ti, still shouting out, ' Eat, eat, eat the burnt clawing or biting it from the living animal, just as they pig, father, only taste-O Lord !' --with such-like do in Abyssinia to this day. This period is not obscurely barbarous ejaculations, cramming all the while as if he hinted at by their great Confucius in the second chapter would choke. of his Mundane Mutations, where he designates a kind Ho-ti trembled every joint while he grasped the of golden age by the term Cho-fang, literally the Cooks' abominable thing, wavering whether he should not put Holiday. The manuscript goes on to say, that the art his son to death for an unnatural young monster, when of roasting, or rather broiling (which I take to be the the crackling scorching his fingers, as it had done his elder brother) was accidentally discovered in the manner son's, and applying the same remedy to them, he in his following. The swineherd Ho-ti, having gone out into turn tasted some of its flavour, whích, make what sour the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect mouths he would for pretence, proved not altogether mast for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his displeasing to him. In conclusion (for the manuscript eldest son, Bo-bo, a great lubberly boy, who being fond here is a little tedious) both father and son fairly sat of playing with fire, as younkers of his age commonly down to the mess, and never left off till they had' desare, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which patched all that remained of the litter. kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape,
for the neighbours would certainly have stoned them for his reputation, and procured him the thanks and a couple of abominable wretches, who could think of friendship of the German poet. He now became improving upon the good meat which God had sent a frequent competitor for poetical fame. In 1799, them. Nevertheless strange stories got about. It was he wrote a poem commemorative of the battle of observed that Ho-ti's cottage was burned down now more the Nile; in 1800, appeared his translation of frequently than ever. Nothing but fires from this time the Georgics of Virgil : in 1801, he produced a forward. Some would break out in broad day, others Poetical REpistle on the Encouragement of the in the night-time. As often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the house of Ho-ti to be in a blaze ; and Ho-ti British School of Painting; and in 1802, a himself, which was the more remarkable, instead of tragedy on the model of the ancient Greek drama, chastising his son, seemed to grow more indulgent to him entitled Orestes. He next devoted himself to the than ever. At length they were watched, the terrible composition of an original sacred poem, in blank mystery discovered, and father and son summoned to verse, under the title of Saul, which appeared in take their trial at Pekin, then an inconsiderable assize 1807. The fame of Scott induced him to attempt town. Evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself the romantic metrical style of narrative and deproduced in court, and verdict about to be pronounced, scription ; and in 1810, he published Constance de burnt pig, of which the culprits stood accused, might be Castille, a poem in ten cantos. In 1814, he rehanded into the box. He handled it, and they all published his Orestes, together with four other handled it ; and burning their fingers, as' Bo-bo and his tragedies ; and in 1815, a second corrected
edition father had done before them, and nature prompting to of the Georgics. This translation is one of the each of them the same remedy, against the face of all best of a classic poet in our language. A tour on the facts, and the clearest charge which judge had ever the continent gave occasion to another poetical given to the surprise of the whole court, townsfolk, work, Italy. He next began a labour which he strangers, reporters, and all present—without leaving had long contemplated, the translation of the the box, or any manner of consultation whatever, they Iliad and Odyssey, though he was upwards of brought in a simultaneous verdict of Not Guilty. seventy years of age before he entered upon the
The judge, who was a shrewd fellow, winked at the Herculean task. The summer and autumn of manifest iniquity of the decision ; and when the court 1829 were spent in a tour to Scotland; and the was dismissed, went privily, and bought up all the pigs following verses, written in a steam-boat during that could be had for love or money. In a few days his an excursion to Staffa and Iona, shew the undilordship's town-house was observed to be on fire. The thing took wing, and now there was nothing to be seen
minished of the veteran poet:
powers but fire in every direction. Fuel and pigs grew enor
Staffa, I scaled thy summit hoar, mously dear all over the district. The insurance-offices
I passed beneath thy arch gigantic, one and all shut up shop. People built slighter and
Whose pillared cavern swells the roar, slighter every day, until it was feared that the very
When thunders on thy rocky shore science of architecture would in no long time be lost to
The roll of the Atlantic. the world. Thus this custom of firing houses continued, till in process of time, says my manuscript, a sage arose, That hour the wind forgot to rave, like our Locke, who made a discovery, that the flesh of The surge forgot its motion, swine, or indeed of any other animal, might be cooked And every pillar in thy cave (burned, as they call it) without the necessity of consum Slept in its shadow on the wave, ing a whole house to dress it. Then first began the Únrippled by the ocean. rude form of a gridiron. Roasting by the string or spit came in a century or two later, I forget in whose dynasty.
Then the past age before me came, By such slow degrees, concludes the manuscript, do the
When 'mid the lightning's sweep, most useful and seemingly the most obvious arts, make Thy isle with its basaltic frame, their way among mankind.
And every column wreathed with flame, Without placing too implicit faith in the account Burst from the boiling deep. above given, it must be agreed, that if a worthy pretext for so dangerous an experiment as setting houses on fire
When ʼmid Iona's wrecks meanwhile (especially in these days) could be assigned in favour of
O'er sculptured graves I trod, any culinary object, that pretext and excuse might be
Where Time had strewn each mouldering aisle found in ROAST PIG.
O’er saints and kings that reared the pile, Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I
I hailed the eternal God : will maintain it to be the most delicate-princeps obsoni
Yet, Staffa, more I felt His presence in thy cave
Than where Iona's cross rose o'er the western wave. orum.
Mr Sotheby's translation of the Iliad was pubWILLIAM SOTHEBY.
lished in 1831, and was generally esteemed spirited WILLIAM SOTHEBY, an accomplished scholar and faithful. The Odyssey he completed in the and translator, was born in London on the 9th of following year. He died on the 30th of December November 1757. He was of good family, and 1833. The original poetical productions of Mr educated at Harrow School. At the age of seven-Sotheby have not been reprinted; his translations teen he entered the army as an officer in the roth are the chief source of his reputation. Wieland, Dragoons. He quitted the army in the year 1780, it is said, was charmed with the genius of his and purchased Bevis Mount, near Southampton, translator; and the rich beauty of diction in the where he continued to reside for the next ten years. Oberon, and its facility of versification, notwithHere Mr Sotheby cultivated his taste for literature, standing the restraints imposed by a difficult and translated some of the minor Greek and Latin measure, were eulogised by the critics. In his poets. In 1788, he made a pedestrian tour through tragedies, Mr Sotheby displays considerable Wales, of which he wrote a poetical description, warmth of passion and figurative language, but published, together with some odes and sonnets, his plots are ill constructed. Byron said of Mr in 1789. In 1798, he published a translation from Sotheby, that he imitated everybody, and occathe Oberon of Wieland, which greatly extended sionally surpassed his models.