Act II.-Sc. I. novelty of ten nights; while those- If the merit of any man's virtues can be diminished by those faults which are distinct from them, and form a separate trait in his character." The distinction is just human Nature is but too apt to overlook the merits of an intimate from a studious contemplation of his frailties. Until X, or some other correspondent, more thoroughly analyzes the subject, I must consider my opinions as not quite untenable, and remain, Sir, Yours, &c. J. N. BREWER. ANNOTATIONS on the TEXT of [Continued from p. 408.] Act II.-Sc. IV. Blood, thou art but blood! Let's write, good angel, on the devil's horn, 'Tis not the devil's crest. The essence of inherent depravity is still the same, however it may be qualified by the external attributes of dignity or reputation. Act V. c. I. This is most likely! "Oh that the probability of what I as- LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST. Well, sit you out. Stay, or remain, exempted from our oath. Sit is from the Latin sisto, to stand still, or remain. The outlaws so address Valentine in the Two Gentlemen of Verona : Give us what you have about you, If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. Act IV.-Sc. II. Sir, he hath never fed on the dainties. that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts. Expressions somewhat similar are ob- This line has been made the subject of a Act IV.-Sc. III. I am toiling in a pitch; pitch that defiles. Thus, in the 14th Idyllium of Theocritus, v. 5: Νῦν δέ ποχ ̓, ὡς μας, Φανί, Θυώνιχε, γίνμεθα πίσσας. When love speaks, the voice of all the Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. Jupiter drowsy (or entranced) with Act V.-Sc. II. MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's Was much more general than these lines import. Act IV.-Sc. I. Fair Helena, in fancy, following me. Act V.-Sc. I. Spesso, in un dir confuso, MERCHANT OF VENICE. Act III. Look on beauty, I will bandy with thee in faction. And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the I will contend with you in enmity. weight. Sc. IV. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do As those that fear they hope and know they Spe que timor dubiâ, spes que timore cadit. Lord Chedworth does not comprehend Sc. V. According to the fool's bolt, Sir, and such Dulcet disease is one that ends quickly; ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. So in approof lives not his epitaph, His deeds, which are represented on his A strumpet's boldness; a divulged shame name Sear'd otherwise: no worse of worst extended, With vilest torture let my life be ended. The discriminated words may be thus explained,―Let me suffer the utmost extension, or extremity, of punishment. Sc. III. A man that's married is a man that's marr'd. This jest is derived from the French language, "Le pauvre Sganarelle était un mari bien marri."-Bussy abutin, Lettre 5, à Madame de S. Good alone Is good without a name: vileness is so." "Of Poets and Poetrie. "Surely he was a little wanton with his leisure, that first invented Poetrie. "Tis but a Play, which makes Words dance, in the evennesse of a Cadencie: yet without doubt, being a Harmony, for that it selfe is a Harmony in height. it is neerer to the minde than Prose: But the Words being rather the drossie part, Conceit I take to be the Principall. And here, though it digresseth from Truth, it flies above her, making her more rare, by giving curious rayment to her nakednesse. The Name the Grecians gave the men that wrote thus, shew'd how much they honour'd And it: They call'd them Makers. had some of them had power to put their Conceits in Act, how neere would Mr. Malone derives from the Revisal they have come to Deity? And for the his exposition of this passage. Act IV. Sc. III. "Is it not meant damnable in us, to be the trumpeters of our own unlawful intents?" Misfortunes arising from any crime are still observed to be a judgment. "The indiscretion by which our follies are betrayed is a punishment decreed by Providence on the culpability that accompa nies them." Act V. Sc. III. Our esteem Oh it came on my ear like the sweet south, vertues of men; they rest not on the bare demeanour, but slide into imagination: so proposing things above us, they kindle the Reader to wonder and imitation. And certainely, Poets that write thus, Plato never meant to banish. His owne practice shewes, hee excluded not all. He was content to heare Antimachus recite his Poem, when all the Herd had left him: and hee himselfe wrote both Tragedies and other pieces. Perhaps he found them a little too busie with his gods: and he being the first that made Philosophy Dicine, and Rationall, was modest in his owne beginnings. Another Name Vates. Nor know I how to distinguish they had of honour too, and that was betweene the Prophets and Poets of Israel. What is Ieremics Lamentation, but a kinde of Saphicke Elegie? Davids Psalmes are not onely Poems; but Songs, Snatches, and Raptures of a aming spirit. And this indeed I observe, to the honour of Poets; I never Those balmy spoils. found them covetous, or scrapinglyErratum in the introductory re- base. The lewes had not two such marks:-for" benefit of the pleasure," read "or." Imitated by Milton, P. L. 4, 156: Gentle gales, stole Sir, [To be continued.] FELLTHAMIANA. WITHOUT any preface, I send Kings in all their Catalogue, as Salomon and his Father; Poets both. There is a largenesse in their Soules, beyond the narrownesse of other men: and why may we not then thinke, this may imbrace more, both of Heaven and God? I cannot but conjecture you for your next Magazine this to bee the reason, that they, most an ingenious and a highly interesting of them, are poore: They finde their excerpt from honest Owen: he writes mindes so solaced with their owne with the discrimination and the feel- flights, that they neglect the study of ing of a scholar. I remain, &c. growing rich and this, I confesse Oxford, June 2. W.P. againe, I thinke, turnes them to vice and unmanly courses. Besides, they Frange puer calamos, & inanes desere are for the most part mighty lovers of Musas: corna. Vrbem Non tacitus porta : Quid enim tibi Fistula reddet, Quo tutere famem? certè, mea carmina nemo Præter ab his Scopulis ventosa remurmurat Eccho. Boy, breake thy Pipes, leave, leave thy fruitlesse Muse: Rather the Mast, and blood-red Cor nill chuse. Goe leade thy Flockes to milking; sell and cry Milke through the City: What can keepe backe hunger? None my Learning buy, To Verses minde, Eccho babbling from the Rockes and Winde. their Palates; and this is known an Et potiùs glandes, rubicundaque collige impoverisher. Antigonus, in the Tented Field, found Antagoras cooking of Duc ad muletra greges, & lac cenale pcr a Congor himselfe. And they all are friends to the Grape and Liquor: though I think, many, more out of a ductible Nature, and their love to pleasant Companie, than their affection to the juice alone. They are all of free Natures; and are the truest Definition of that Philosophers man, which gives him Animal risible. Their grossest fault is, that you may conclude them sensual: yet this does not touch them all. Ingenious for the most part they are. I know there be some Riming fooles; but what have they to doe with Poetry? When Salust would tell us, that Sempronia's wit was not ill; sayes hee,-Potuit Versus facere, & jocum movere: Shee could make a Verse, and breake a Test. Something there is in But it, more than ordinary: in that it is all in such measured Language, as may Two things are commonly blamed bee marr'd by reading. I laugh hear- in Poetrie: nay, you take away That, tily at Philoxenus his Iest, who passing if Them: and these are Lyes and Flatby, and hearing some Masons mis- tery. But I have told them in the sensing his lines, (with their ignorant worst words: For, 'tis onely to the shal sawing of them) falls to breaking their low insight that they appeare thus. Bricks amaine: They aske the cause, Truth may dwell more cleerely in an and hee replyes, They spoile his worke, Allegory, or a Moral'd Fable, than in and he theirs. Certainely, a worthy a bare Narration. And for Flatterie, Poet is so farre from being a foole, that no man will take Poetrie litterall: there is some wit required in him that since in commendations, it rather shall be able to reade him well: and shewes what men should be, than what without the true accent numbred Poe- they are. If this were not, it would trie does lose of the glossc. It was a appeare uncomely. But we all know, speech becoming an able Poet of our Hyperbole's in Poetrie, doe beare a deowne, when a Lord read his Verses cency, nay, a grace along with them. crookedly, and he beseecht his Lord. The greatest danger that I finde in it, ship, not to murder him in his owne is, that it wantons the Blood and Imalines. He that speaks false Latine, gination; as carrying a man in too breakes Priscians head: but he that high a Delight. To prevent these, let repeats a Verse ill, puts Homer out of the wise Poet strive to bee modest in joynt. One thing commends it be- his Lines. First, that hee dash.not the yond Oratorie: it ever complieth to the Gods: next, that bee injure not Chas sharpest Iudgements. He is the best tity, nor corrupt the Eare with Lasci Orator that pleaseth all, even the viousnesse. When these are declined, Crowd and Clownes. But Poetric I thinke a grave Poem the deepest kinde would be poore, that they should all of Writing. It wings the Soule up approve of. If the Learned and Iudi- higher than the slacked pace of Prose. cious like it, let the Throng bray. These, Flashes that doe follow the Cup, I feare when 'tis best, will like it the least. me, are too spritely to be solid: they So, they contemne what they under- run smartly upon the loose, for a Dis stand not; and the neglected Poet falls tance or two; but then being foule by want. Calphurnius makes one they give in, and tyre. I confesse, I complaine the misfortune: love the sober Muse: and fasting; From the other, matter cannot come may be comprised within the present' so cleere, but that it will bee misted volume. His with the fumes of Wine. Long Poetry The remaining poems being, some, some cannot be friends withall: and fragments, and the rest, short and indeed, it palles upon the reading. upon common topics, it would be a The wittiest Poets have been all short, thriftless labour to myself and my and changing soone their Subject; as readers, were I to consider them inHorace, Martiall, Iuvenall, Seneca, dividually. I shall rather endeavour. and the two Comedians. Poetry should to convey a general sense of their agbe rather like a Coranto, short, and gregate merit.' nimbly-loftie, than a dull Lesson of a It is in reading these smaller pieces day long. Nor can it but bee deadish, of Henry, that the monotony of his if distended? For, when 'tis right, it genius most forcibly strikes us. centers Conceit, and takes but the spi- mind seemed to be confined by the rit of things: and therefore foolish sufferings of his body; and it is rarely Poesie is of all writing the most ridicu- that he attempts any thing which lous. When a Goose dances, and a does not point to his own feelings Foole versifies, there is sport alike. and situation. A want of variety is. Hee is twice an Asse, that is a riming hence produced, and a consequent He is something the lesse unwise, want of interest in the reader. know not, however, whether I shall be justified in the opinion of some, for censuring this uniformity of subject, when I reflect that these pieces have been given to the world, not by himself but by his editor. one. I The "Ode to Fuseli" is an unequal performance. It has some lines that would do honour to any pen, and it is disfigured by the unmeaning verbosity of modern poetry. Of the last the following is an example: While far below the fitful oar that is unwise but in Prose. If the Subject bee History, or contexted Fable, then I hold it better put in Prose, or Blanks: for ordinary discourse never shewes so well in Meeter, as in the straine that it may seeme to be spoken in: the commendation is, to doe it to the life: Nor is this any other than Poetry in Prose. Surely, though the World thinke it not so, he is happy to himselfe, that can play the Pot. Hee shall vent his passions by his Pen, and ease his heart of their weight: and hee shall often raise himselfe a joy in his raptures, which no man can perceive but he. Sure, Ovid found a pleasure in't, even when hee writ his Tristria. pauses is unintelligible. These two It gently delivers the mind of distem- lines pers, and workes the thoughts to a sweetnes, in their searching conceit. I would not love it for a profession: and I would not want it for a recreation. I can make my selfe harmelesse, nay, amending mirth with it; while I should perhaps be trying of a worser Pastime. And this I beleeve in it further, Vnlesse conversation corrupts his easinesse, it lifts a man to Noblenesse; and is never in any rightly, but it makes him of a Royall and capacious Soule." A critical and illustrative Estimation of H. K. WHITE'S Genius. By Mr. MUDFORD. [Concluded from p. 294.] HAVE intermitted I strictures my on the poetry of Henry, that your readers might not be wearied by their continuity; and I now hasten to conclude them, that they UNIVERSAL MAG. VOL. IX. Who shall now sublimest spirit, I shall now copy what I consider He throws thy dark wrought tunić on, 1 Him didst thou cradle on the dizzy steep, Where round his head the volley'd lightnings flung, And the loud winds that round his pillow rung, 3 Q |