All, all must perish; but, surviving last,
The love of letters half preserves the past.
True, some decay, yet not a few revive; (1)
Though those shall sink, which now appear to thrive,
As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway
Our life and language must alike obey.

The immortal wars which gods and angels wage, Are they not shown in Milton's sacred page? His strain will teach what numbers best belong To themes celestial told in epic song.

The slow, sad stanza will correctly paint The lover's anguish, or the friend's complaint. But which deserves the laurel - rhyme or blank? Which holds on Helicon the higher rank? Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute This point, as puzzling as a Chancery suit.

Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,
Doctus iter melius; mortalia facta peribunt:
Nedum sermonum stet honos, et gratia vivax.
Multa renascentur, quæ jam cecidere; cadentque,
Quæ nunc sunt in honore vocabula, si volet usus;
Quem penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.
Res gestæ regumque ducumque et tristia bella,
Quo scribi possent numero monstravit Homerus.
Versibus impariter junctis querimonia primum;
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,
Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.

(1) Old ballads, old plays, and old women's stories, are at present in as much request as old wine or new speeches. In fact, this is the millennium of black letter: thanks to our Hebers, Webers, and Scotts! - [There was considerable malice in thus putting Weber, a poor German hack, a mere amanuensis of Sir Walter Scott, between the two other names. — -E]

Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen.

You doubt-see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's dean. (1)

Blank verse (2) is now, with one consent, allied To Tragedy, and rarely quits her side.

Though mad Almanzor rhymed in Dryden's days, No sing-song hero rants in modern plays;

Archilocum proprio rabies armavit iambo;
Hunc socci cepere pedem grandesque cothurni,
Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares
Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.

Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque deorum,

Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Et juvenum curas et libera vina referre.

(1) " Mac Flecknoe," the " Dunciad," and all Swift's lampooning ballads. Whatever their other works may be, these originated in personal feelings, and angry retort on unworthy rivals; and though the ability of these satires elevates the poetical, their poignancy detracts from the personal character of the writers.-[For particulars of Dryden's feud with his successor in the laureateship, Shadwell, whom he has immortalised under the name of Mac Flecknoe, and also as Og, in the second part of" Absalom and Achitophel;" and for the literary squabbles in which Swift and Pope were engaged, the reader must turn to the lives and works of these three great writers. See also Mr. D'Israeli's painfully interesting book on "The Quarrels of Authors." - E.]

(2) [Like Dr. Johnson, Lord Byron maintained the excellence of rhyme over blank verse in English poetry. "Blank verse," he says, in his long lost letter to the editor of Blackwood's Magazine, " unless in the drama, no one except Milton ever wrote who could rhyme. I am aware that Johnson has said, after some hesitation, that he could not prevail upon himself to wish that Milton had been a rhymer.' The opinions of that truly great man, whom, like Pope, it is the present fashion to decry, will ever be received by me with that deference which time will restore to him from all; but, with all humility, I am not persuaded that the "Paradise Lost" would not have been more nobly conveyed to posterity, not perhaps in heroic couplets, although even they could sustain the subject, if well balanced,- but in the stanza of Spenser, or of Tasso, or in the terza rima of Dante, which the powers of Milton could easily have grafted on our language. The "Seasons" of Thomson would have been better in rhyme, although still inferior to his "Castle of Indolence;" and Mr. Southey's "Joan of Arc" no worse."— E.]

While modest Comedy her verse foregoes

For jest and pun (1) in very middling prose.
Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse,
Or lose one point, because they wrote in verse.
But so Thalia pleases to appear,

Poor virgin! damn'd some twenty times a year!

Whate'er the scene, let this advice have weight:Adapt your language to your hero's state. At times Melpomene forgets to groan, And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone; Nor unregarded will the act pass by Where angry Townly (2) lifts his voice on high.

Descriptas servare vices operumque colores,
Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor?
Cur nescire pudens prave, quam discere malo?
Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult;
Indignatur item privatis, ac prope socco
Dignis carminibus narrari cœna Thyestæ.
Singula quæque locum teneant sortita decenter.
Interdum tamen et vocem comœdia tollit,
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore :

Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri.

(1) With all the vulgar applause and critical abhorrence of puns, they have Aristotle on their side; who permits them to orators, and gives them consequence by a grave disquisition. ["Cicero also," says Addison, "has sprinkled several of his works with them; and, in his book on Oratory, quotes abundance of sayings as pieces of wit, which, upon examination, prove arrant puns. But the age in which the pun chiefly flourished was in the reign of James the First, who was himself a tolerable punster, and made very few bishops or privy counsellors that had not some time or other signalised themselves by a clinch, or a conundrum. The sermons of Bishop Andrews, and the tragedies of Shakspeare, are full of them. The sinner was punned into repentance by the former; as in the latter, nothing is more usual than to see a hero weeping and quibbling for a dozen lines together."-E]

(2) [In Vanbrugh's comedy of the "Provoked Husband."-E.]

Again, our Shakspeare limits verse to kings,
When common prose will serve for common things;
And lively Hal resigns heroic ire,

To" hollowing Hotspur (1)" and the sceptred sire.

'Tis not enough, ye bards, with all your art, To polish poems ; -they must touch the heart:

Where'er the scene be laid, whate'er the song,
Still let it bear the hearer's soul along;
Command your audience or to smile or weep,
Whiche'er may please you any thing but sleep.

The poet claims our tears; but, by his leave,
Before I shed them, let me see him grieve.

If banish'd Romeo feign'd nor sigh nor tear,
Lull'd by his languor, I should sleep or sneer.
Sad words, no doubt, become a serious face,
And men look angry in the proper place.
At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly,
And sentiment prescribes a pensive eye;
For nature form'd at first the inward man,
And actors copy nature - when they can.

Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul, uterque
Projicit ampullas, et sesquipedalia verba;

Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela.

Non satis est pulchra esse poemata; dulcia sunto,
Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent
Humani vultus; si vis me flere dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi; tunc tua me infortunia lædent.
Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia mostum
Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum ;*
Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.

Format enim natura prius nos intus ad omnem

(1) "And in his ear I'll hollow, Mortimer!"— 1 Henry IV,

She bids the beating heart with rapture bound,
Raised to the stars, or levell'd with the ground;
And for expression's aid, 'tis said, or sung,
She gave our mind's interpreter the tongue,
Who, worn with use, of late would fain dispense
(At least in theatres) with common sense;
O'erwhelm with sound the boxes, gallery, pit,
And raise a laugh with any thing—but wit.

To skilful writers it will much import,

Whence spring their scenes, from common life or court;

Whether they seek applause by smile or tear,
To draw a 66
Lying Valet," or a " Lear,"
A sage, or rakish youngster wild from school,
A wandering" Peregrine," or plain " John Bull;"
All persons please when nature's voice prevails,
Scottish or Irish, born in Wilts or Wales.

Or follow common fame, or forge a plot.
Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not?
One precept serves to regulate the scene:-
Make it appear as if it might have been.

Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellet ad iram;
Aut ad humum mærore gravi deducit, et angit;
Post effert animi motus interprete lingua.

Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,
Romani tollent equites, ped tesque cachinnum.
Intererit multum, Davusne loquatur an heros;
Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventa
Fervidus; an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix;
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;
Colchus an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.
Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge
Scriptor honoratum si forte reponis Achillem⚫