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of Poland," and an “ Ode to befriend utmost of his power, than Hayley mathe society of decayed musicians.” The nifested in conducting all this painful Ode, we are told, was “ written in the business. little farm of Dandelion, near Mar- “ What he felt, and what his coungate, which has since been converted tenance proved him to have felt on the into a scene of public entertainment." occasion, may be conjectured from some
About this time, he made one of a striking expressions of his intellectual party of pleasure, to visit the ship that and affectionate valet, Harry, which had carried Cooke; and “ he had shall be reserved for the closing words found a bitter easterly wind blowing of this chapter. full on his face; but as his eyes had “ The Poet, after receiving his Eliever been remarkably strong, and bad za in London, and remaining there never suffered in any manner from long with her a week, escorted her, on the exertion in miniature painting, or in 27th of April, to the house of their nightly reading, be was not aware how benevolent friend, Mrs Beridge, in doubly they might suffer from that in- Derby. He remained in that town a sidious enemy to organs so delicate, few days, to provide its new inhabitthe east wind!” We accordingly have ant with a residence to her liking.– several
about his " ocular suf. After bidding her adieu with much ferings." În the vicinity of Lyme, he tenderness and anguish of heart, he meets with a boy of some distinction. threw himself into a post-chaise with “ The youngest, afterwards the great his attendant Harry, who exclaimed to William Pitt, was now a wonderful his master, as soon as they were off boy of 14, who eclipsed his brother in the stones : ' I thank God, sir, you conversation, and endeared himself are now got safe out of that town, for not a little to the Poet, by admiring a I have for many hours been afraid, favourite horse which he then rode, of that I should see you drop down dead singular excellence,"&c. “Hayley often in the midst of it.” reflected on the singular pleasure he Now, what have we to do with Hayhad derived froin his young acquaint- ley's domestic concerns, it may perance, regretting, however, that his haps be asked by some consistent haown poetical reserve had prevented him ter of personality, and lover of the imparting to the wonderful youth the Edinburgh Review—Nothing. But epic poem he had begun on the liberty then he has thought proper to interof the country.”
sperse, throughout twoenormous quarHayley now quitted London for to volumes, ex-parte statements of good and all, and settled himself at what ought to have been held in sahis villa at Eastham. His mother cred and inviolable silence for everdied about this time, and he seized the more. He has meanly, basely, and opportunity of constructing two epi- falsely striven to build up for himself taphs, one in English verse,
and the a reputation for the finest feeling and other in Latin prose. For å year or most thoughtful humanity, at the extwo (or to 1777-8) he visits and ver- pense of the most shameful violation sifies away as usual, and doctors his of natural duties to the injured dead. eyes, still weak and inflamed. He The poor devil keeps incessantly drinext attempted Harris the manager, velling and blubbering about his “ pibut he too rejected the offered play of tiable Eliza,” with whom he had not the“ Viceroy." He did from page 170 the love and the virtue to live, that he to page 209, in a disturbed and fever might sooth her sorrows; and does all ish sleep ; but we think he informs us he can to shew, that her caprices were that he wrote an Epistle to Howard, such as not only to justify his living another to Gibbon, Epistles on His- apart from her, but to demand it; and tory, and the Triumphs of Temper, that for her sake he submitted to the by the end of the year 1780.
painful sacrifice. But the heartless hyBut now comes matter of a some- pocrite cants confessed in every page ; what graver east; and we shall let Mr and every man, with a common huHayley speak for himself.-"Perhaps man soul, will despise the impotent no man, on the point of removing from struggles which he makes to libel the him a wife, with whom he felt it im- character of his dead wife. Several of possible to live, ever shewed more ten- her letters are published, that he might der or more sincere anxiety to promote bave an opportunity of giving, we - her ease, comfort, and welfure, to the think, his own cold, conceited, episto
lary effusions to the mother of his be him to the couch of Cowper. He did loved child, at the time when he had not sit there as a Christian, but as a lishut his doors against her, and left her terary man; and all the while contia prey to the disturbing thoughts that nued slavering forth his mawkish vertoo often agitated her keenly affection- ses, till he seems occasionally to have ate, and most disinterested and for- made even himself sick. The truth is, giving heart. We had marked for
that we have been seized with such a tation a number of passages fitted to loathing disgust with this heartless, expose the wretched creature, but they brainless versifier, that we must stop are too loathsome for the present Num- short with this very imperfect notice ber. And pray, what right had Hay- of his memorable Memoirs; but in a ley to abandon his amiable and elegant month or two, when the two millwife to her misfortunes, whatever was stones are sunk into the dam of oblitheir deplorable kind or degree, and to vion, we shall probably give such ex. trundle maudlin along to Cowper, who tracts (accompanied with a few comwas afflicted with a similar visitation ? ments) as will justify us in the little He had no right to whine and wail we have said, and give us a still betabout the “ Bard of Olney,” for he had ter opportunity for exposing the real other sacred duties to perform, which worthlessness of this pretender, who he wickedly left unperformed ; and certainly will henceforth rank at the there is no want of charity in affirm. very bottom of the scale of English ing that mere vanity and egotism drew drivellers.
LETTERS OF TIMOTHY TICKLER, ESQ. TO EMINENT LITERARY CHARACTERS.
No. IX. To Thomas Campbell, Esq. Editor of Colburn's Conduit-Street Magazine. DEAR Tom,- It is now about twen- prising talents. Like St Paul at the ty years since you and I turned into feet of Gamaliel, the doctor of laws, Johnny Dowie's, to wash the dust out you listened to the voice of my instrucof our throats with a pint of Giles's tions, while in social conversation we ale, if I remember right, though per- sluiced over our ivories the ever-to-behaps it might have been with a crown honoured extract of Sir John Barleybowl of punch. You were then a young corn. With a mild suavity, I pointed man of high reputation—deservedly out a path of glory to you; and the high, for you had published the Plea- beaming of your intelligent eye, and sures of Hope. Your fancied schemes the heartfelt pressure which you occaof future life were brilliant; and no sionally gave my hand, shewed that wonder. Scott had scarcely appeared you appreciated my intentions. in our literature ; Byron was a boy at We have never met since. You went Harrow; Wordsworth a butt of deri- to London, and I fixed permanently sion to the shallow creatures who exer- in Southside. You dwelt in the throng cised the art critical in those days; and bustle of men, amid the interColeridge was dreaming as at present; course of wits and sages, in the noise Southey had not published his great and tumult of civilization—I, in the poems, and was under a sort of cloud; silent hills, in the heart of the glories Darwin was gradually getting voted a of nature, in the company of the simple bore of the first magnitude; this Ma- and unrefined. But think not that I gazine was among the things uncrea- was an incurious spectator of your ted—nay, I may say, unhoped for or progress. I rejoiced in the estimation unconceived; and, positively, you were in which you were held. I shall never alone, the rising star of our poetical be ashamed of the national feeling world. We freely discussed your pros- which makes us Scotchmen proud of pects. Though at that date Time had one another's success throughout the not thinned my flowing hair, as he has world, and ready to promote it. It is done since, and be hanged to him, nor a higher feather in our cap than the bent me in his iron hand, as he has grand name of " the nation of genvainly attempted to do, still I was go tlemen,” or “ the modern Athens," much your senior as to entitle me to or “ the dwellers under the pillars of give advice even to a man of your sur- the Parthenon.” You did not, indeed, do as much as I expected ; but what standing, to be an honest man. Be, if you did was of the first order. I for- possible, a gentleman. I know that it gave the un-nationality of the spirit is a hard task I am imposing ; but do, which directed your choice of such Thomas, Whig as you are, try to be a subjects for your elegant muse as gentleman throughout life.” 'To do “ Gertrude of Wyoming,” and the you justice, you have kept to my ado “ Exile of Erin,” because I knew you vice, and are, I am happy to say, å were a Whig, and compelled, er-officio, gentleman in all members absolute, to chaunt the praises of rebellion, suc- 'in entrails, heart, and head, liver and cessful or unsuccessful, “ all over the reins.” On you Whiggery has not world;" particularly when, as in the wrought all its usual effect. There are Irish case, it is marked with unmiti- ' some constitutions which resist the gated ferocity of murder and conflagra- most mortal poisons; and as I know tion. I forgave it, I say, for the sake that there have been bibbers of lauof “ the Mariners of England,” the danum, and swallowers of corrosive Battle of the Baltic,” and “Our Coun- sublimate, so I can admit that in some trymen in Flanders.” It would be ab- rare instances I have heard of Whigs surd were I at this time of day to com- being gentlemen, and am happy to say, pliment you on “Lochiel,” and “O'Con- for old acquaintance' sake, that you are nor's Child," when everybody has them one of that infinitisimally small body. by heart. I own I did not like to see If I did not think you were, I should you at task-work for the booksellers; not waste this pretty sheet of foolscap but I remembered that those who li
upon you. ved to please, should please to live. Such a tribute, however, I cannot Above all, I did not approve of your pay to your employés. Some of them new connection with Colburn's Maga- are merely asses; but others have not zine. There is something nasty and even that excuse. Let me ask you, Mr plagiary in the very name; and, little Thomas Campbell, why you permit as I value Sir Pythagoras, I sympa- Mr William Hazlitt, the modern Pygthized with his indignation against malion, to fill your pages with gross, this robbery of his title. I was sorry, scurrilous, and low-lived abuse of peobesides, to see you put yourself at the ple, whoin such a man should not be head of such capons as cackle for that permitted to name. Jeffrey, we all periodical—making yourself Bashaw know, he called “the Prince of Critics, of a band of Balaamites, Commander- and the King of Men;" and Agamemin-Chief of a Company of crestless non the Second was so tickled by the Cockatoos. (There, by the by, is a fine compliment, so bamboozled by the specimen of apt alliteration's artful blarney, that, without farther inquiry, aid.) But that is your look-out, not he let him loose in the Edinburgh Remine; I hope you find your account view, in an article which, I flatter myin it.
self, I utterly demolished in my last It is concerning a passage in your letter to North. But I do not remem. Magazine for September that I am ber that you have been daubed over by now addressing you. Let me again the dirty butter of his applause, so that revert to the last evening I had the you cannot make even that miserable
easure of meeting you at Johnny apology. Were I speaking merely as a Dowie's. You may remember we had Magaziner, as a friend to my dear been sitting in one of the tiniest of friend Christopher, I should rejoice in the tiny cribs of that celebrated man, your infatuation, in the injury inflictwho is now gathered to his fathers, ed on a rival establishment; but both employed as I have already mentioned. Kit and I are above that feeling. You Why do I dwell on such trifles ? Sim- may be sure it would please us more ply because I never have thought of to hear of what would redound to your that evening without pleasure. On honour and advantage, than what could leaving the house, the morning-sun lower you, or anything with which was illuminating the lofty tenements you have thought proper to connect of the old town. “Good night,” said yourself, in the estimation of the pube I, “ Thomas, or rather, good morn- lic. That Hazlitt's being even suspecting. God bless you through life, and ed of writing in your pay must do this, make you an honour to the land of is too clear, too axiomatic, for me to your birth. You are, I perceive, Tho- say a word on the subject. But that mas, a Whig-endeavour, notwith- you should hire him to vent personal person, his
abuse on men of genius, is going too work. I say it is to you he is to look far; and, as a friend, I must shortly for redress for this brutal attack, which expostulate with you on the subject. is about the vilest thing I have seen
You have, no doubt, heard people for a long time, even among the vilesometimes complain of what it pleases nesses of Whiggery. What, sir! do them to call the scurrilities of Kit's you think, that because Mr Fuseli is Magazine. You have seen Jeffrey, a great painter, you are to take indeafraid to say it, keep hinting at the ac- cent liberties with his person? Do cusation. You have read the lamenta- you think yourself entitled to abuse the tions of this very Hazlitt about it; and outward configuration given him by if you take up the Liberal, which of his Creator, which neither you nor he course you do professionally, you will could alter? Do you think it just and hear the vermin yelping to the same gentlemanlike criticism on his works tune. Now, all the fraternity know that to fling ribald jests on his features, his they are lying. We might be as scur- gait, his gestures, his
eyerilous as a Billingsgate basket-women, balls, and his muscles? If you do, Mr
legal Brougham, the moral Campbell, you are sadly altered for chimney-sweeper," (as Byron calls the worse. Misery, they say, brings him,) had we been Whigs, without ex- a man in contact with strange bedciting reprehension, or, bad we been fellows; so, it would appear, does editstupid Tories, without being clamour- ing: Had any man, three years ago, ed against. But Tories we are, and, told me, that Thomas Campbell, the still worse, clever Tories; and, worst author of the “Pleasures of Hope," of of all, Tories employed in demolishing "Gertrude,” of “O'Connor's Child," Whiggery. Hinc illæ lacryme-hence of the “ Mariners of England,” would the squeaking of the base creatures be guilty of such filth, I am pretty crouching under us. Any lie that could sure the answer would be to pull him tend to annoy us, was a fair weapon ; by the nose. What the motive of the and the best they could think of, was fellow, whose pen traced the words, this charge of personal scurrility. We was, I, of course, cannot tell-perbaps beg leave to deny it; but suppose it for Fuseli discharged him from the situaa moment true, will you, Mr Thoinas, tion of colour-grinder, a post to which have the goodness to find anything in he might aspire through vanity ; but, our pages which can, in personality, that you, Mr Campbell, should, in cold compare with this character of Mr Fu- blood, have sent such a piece of offal seli, which you have printed, Mr Tho- to the press, does both astonish and mas, and which you have paid for. grieve me. I hope we shall have an The vermin who wrote it, has, it ap- ample apology to Fuseli in your next pears, suffered some slight from that Number; if we have not, I shall only great man, and accordingly we are told, conclude, that he despises the quarter that
from which the attack has come and “ His (Fuseli's) ideas are gnarled, hard, just think of that! Fuseli the painter, and distorted like HIS FEATURES; his despising Campbell the poet ! theories, stalking and straddle-legged like
You may, perhaps, reinember what -HIS GAIT ; his projects, aspiring and an outcry was raised bere, in Edingigantic like—HIS GESTURES; his per- burgh, I mean, against Hogg's incomformance, uncouth and dwarfish like-uis parable jeu-d'esprit, the Chaldee MS.
His pictures are also like him. Even yet the things about the Scotsself, WITH EYEBALLS OF STONE STUCK man keep carping at it. There was IN RIMS OF TIN, AND MUSCLES TWIST- some cant mixed up with the cry, such
insult offered to scriptural lan-New Monthly Magazine, No. XXXIII.
guage," “ parody on Ezekiel," &c.
but that, you know, was not the real Yes, Mr Campbell, that is the lan- ground of offence. It was complained guage you have used towards Mr Fuse- that was personal, and reflected on li. I say you have used, for the fellow bodily defect or misfortune. A long who wrote it is below even contempt. time after it was published, this comFuseli would be degraded if he horse- plaint was renewed with all the bitwhipped him ; he might order his font- terness of envious hate, by an infatuaman to kick him, perhaps, but he would ted editor of a Magazine, in that bruin that case owe an apology to the tal series of attacks on us which profunky for employing him in such dirty duced such lamentable results.
ED TOGETHER LIKE ROPESOR WIRES.
Now, if a verse or two of this Ma- verrucose, uneven, foully-heated, disnuscript did transgress in this sort, ordered, and repulsive style of the much may be said in its excuse, for man? He interpreted us au pied du the people who gathered about Con- lettre, and took much pains to convict stable's periodical, were so utterly ob- us of slander. For anything I know scure, poor gazetteers, and other such to the contrary, he got a horse-collar, third-rate Grub-Street folk, that there and took his stand at Smithfield, to was no way of describing them with grin through it, and exclairn to the out alluding to their appearance. They drovers,“ O ye judges of sound flesh! had done nothing by which they could bear witness that I am unpimpled, and be known-they were merely good-for- Blackwood's Magazine is a scurrilous nothing hacks, who had banded them- publication.” He certainly did things selves together to put down, in obedi- almost as absurd. But suppose it was ence to their employers' tradesmenc meant in its most offensive significalike views, a rival magazine. How tion, will you accuse us of personality, then could Hogg avoid describing their and then permit your own pages to be persons, if he thought fit to mention the vehicles of abuse against a man so them at all? The Chaldee was; more infinitely the superior of the vermin over, meant for anything rather than we worried to call him distorted in for malignity, and, as the Shepherd feature, straddle-legged in gait, gisays in his Life, all that was looked for gantic in gesture, dwarfish in person, was a retort courteous or uncourteous, hideous in eyeballs, and furnished of the same kind. It was, in fact, a with rope-twisted muscles? Forshame, mere local joke ; and if it be read or Thomas, for shame! If you do, wherelished beyond Newington or Stock- ther you have won gold by your conbridge, it is only on account of its in- nection with Henry Colburn or not, it ternal humour and merit, just as we will be evident you have improved in now read, with all the freshness of the brass. original fun-Dean Swift's papers on
I am, Dear Tom, Partridge,Curl, Norris,and fifty others, Yours, however, for auld langsyne, of whom we know little, and care less.
TIMOTHY TICKLER. But take the very worst verses of it, Southside, Sept. 9, 1823. and compare them with this attack on the person of a man of fervid and ori- P.S.-You let the Cockneys invade ginal genius, a foreigner too, who has Conduit-Street by far too much. Why domiciled among us, and you will be the deuce, Ton, did you tolerate the ashamed of yourself if you ever con- fellow who wrote, descended to join in the clamour of
“ Oh! there are moments dear and bright, your Whig associates against the scur.
When love's delicious spring is dawning, rilities of this Magazine.
Soft as the ray of quivering light, We were also most roundly rated That wakes the early spring of moril. because 2. or Ochlenschlaeger, or some ing!" other of our friends, cracked a joke on this scribe of yours, Hazlitt, for being Dorning, forsooth ! Hip! Cockney! “ pimpled.” None of us knows any- Hip! He did well to sign his name thing of his personal appearance-how M. A.; for the letters are most conve could we ? --But what designation niently interpreted, Marvellous Ass. could be more apt to mark the scurvy,
Postscript by ODoherty. Dear Tom, I have just stepped across the hills into Tickler's cabin, and take the liberty of thrusting this slip into my friend Tim's epistle, merely to say
that you ought to send Dominie Small-text back again to Coventry. It would be a good ridding of him. He has no more head than Cyrus the Elder. Talking of the miracles of my wise father-land, he takes occasion to blame both parties there for superstition. The Catholics, he says, are believing in Humbugger Hohenlohe's letting a young wencli's clapper loose, while the Orangemen are equally asinine in crediting the fact, that an orange lily suddenly budded forth while the Glorious, Pious, and Immortal Memory was giving. Now,