wanted; and was cautious not to indulge too far the sallies of a lively imagination. Omitting, therefore, any mention of sultry Sirius, sylvan shade, sequestered glade, verdant hills, purling rills, mossy mountains, gurgling fountains, &c. he simply tells us that it was "All on a summer's day." For my own part, I confess, that I find myself rather flattered than disappointed; and consider the poet as rather paying a compliment to the abilities of his readers, than balking their expectations. It is certainly a great pleasure to see a picture well painted; but it is a much greater to paint it well one's self. This, therefore, I look upon as a stroke of excellent management in the poet. Here, every reader is at liberty to gratify his own taste; to design for himself just what sort of "summer's day" he likes best; to choose his own scenery; dispose his lights and shades as he pleases; to solace himself with a rivulet or a horse-pond, a shower or a sun-beam,-a grove, or a kitchen-garden, according to his fancy. How much more considerate this, than if the poet had, from an affected accuracy of description, thrown us into an unmannerly per-. spiration by the heat of the atmosphere; forced us into a landscape of his own planning, with, perhaps, a paltry good-for-nothing zephyr or two,

1

and a limited quantity of wood and water. All this Ovid would undoubtedly have done. Nay, to use the expression of a learned brothercommentator, "quovis pignore decertem," "I would lay any wager," that he would have gone so far as to tell us what the tarts were made of; and perhaps wandered into an episode on the art of preserving cherries. But our poet, above such considerations, leaves every reader to choose his own ingredients, and sweeten them to his own liking; wisely foreseeing, no doubt, that the more palatable each had rendered them to his own taste, the more he would be affected at their approaching loss..

All on a summer's day.

I cannot leave this line without remarking, that one of the Scribleri, a descendant of the famous Martinus, has expressed his suspicions of the text being corrupted here, and proposes, instead of "All on," reading " Alone," alleging, in favour of this alteration, the effect of solitude in raising the passions. But Hiccius Doctius, a High-Dutch commentator, one nevertheless well versed in British literature, in a note of his usual length and learning, has confuted the arguments of Scriblerus. In sup

port of this present reading, he quotes a passage. from a poem written about the same period with our author's by the celebrated Johannes Pastor,* entitled " An Elegiac Epistle to the Turnkey of Newgate," wherein the gentleman declares, that, rather indeed in compliance with an old custom than to gratify any particular wish of his own, he is going

All hanged for to be

Upon that fatal Tyburn Tree.

Now, as nothing throws greater light on an author than the concurrence of a cotemporary writer, I am inclined to be of Hiccius's opinion, and to consider the "All" as an elegant expletive, or, as he more aptly phrases it "elegans expletivum." The passage therefore must stand thus:

The Queen of Hearts

She made some tarts,
All on a summer's day.

And thus ends the first part or beginning; which is simple and unembellished; opens the subject in a natural and easy manner; excites,

* More commonly known, I believe, by the appellation of Jack Shepherd.

but does not too far gratify, our curiosity: for a reader of accurate observation may easily discover, that the hero of the poem has not, as yet, made his appearance.

THE MICROCOSM, No. 11, Feb. 12, 1787.

No. CXII.

-Servetur ad imum,

Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

HORAT

From his first entrance, to the closing scene,
Let him one equal character maintain.

FRANCIS.

HAVING thus gone through the first part, or beginning of the poem, we may, naturally enough, proceed to the consideration of the second.

The second part, or middle, is the proper place for bustle and business, for incident and adventure:

The Knave of Hearts

He stole those tarts.

Here attention is awakened; and our whole souls are intent upon the first appearance of the hero. Some readers may perhaps be offended at his making his entré in so disadvantageous a character as that of a thief. To this I plead precedent.

The hero of the Iliad, as I observed in a former paper, is made to lament very patheti