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he thinks a tolerable imitation of the exquisite effect of the Greek.

He is no enemy to puns in general, but to Greek and Latin puns he is distractedly attached. There are none so bad as to be to him destitute of humour. He asks all schoolboys below the fourth form to construe "Bos currit plenum sed," and explains to them the etymology of driving" tandem." He repeats the best joke his old friend Dr Drybones ever made, which was saying of a young empty-headed coxcomb of an acquaintance, who was reported to be taking lessons at Paris in that accomplishment for which the French are celebrated beyond the rest of mankind, that he was studying "TO Kaev;" and his second best, which was nicknaming old Dr Dusky, who was perpetual president of a smoking club at Oxford, « Νεφεληγερέτα Ξευς. To all his legal friends he never misses the opportunity of translating "Nemo repente fuit turpissimus,"" You must keep all your terms to become a lawyer." But what he values himself most upon is, having in his youth attracted the notice of the celebrated Professor - by rendering Horace's line, "Nullus argento color est avaris," (when some one quoted it at a dinner party,) "One never knows the colour of a miser's money ;" and upon his having christened a conceited, travelled chum of his, who had been bit with the fashion (so prevalent, of late, in other quarters) of being in raptures with Italy, Silius Italicus! a title which stuck to him for the remainder of his life.

As in duty bound, he has a contempt, of greater or less intensity, for all learning, science, or information, which is not classical. To the "Idiotæ," or unlearned, which, he sometimes whispers, even as great a man as Horseley translated "idiots," especially if they be engaged in trade,

his sense of superiority is immeasureable, and peeps out of every intonation of his stifly-condescending civility. The professions he respects in the following order :-Divinity first; next, Law; and lastly, Physic. He also condescends to like such officers of the army or navy as will listen to him, and pay him reciprocal respect,-of whom, however, he meets but few. To such he is as full of "ancient disciplines" as Fluellen himself. He prefers Hannibal and Scipio to Wellington and Napoleon. He quotes Xenophon, Cæsar, and Polybius, and sets them above all modern writers on Strategy, He is convinced that Cæsar's bridge, as described in his Commentaries, must have been infinitely beyond all the efforts of modern engineering. He is not the less convinced of this, because he has no remarkably clear ideas of the construction of the said bridge, notwithstanding the lucid simplicity of style which he is in the habit of attributing to the conqueror of Britain.

There is one occasion, and one only, upon which he relaxes to every body; and that is, when he has been invited to a good dinner. Here he sits "neat

trimly drest"-courteous and smiling; saying little; listening much ;eating more. He attends to the merchant who talks of the Royal Wine Company at Lisbon, and the method of preparing claret for the English market. He hearkens to the Colonel who vapours about the vintage of Spain and of Greece, and of, "the Lord knows where." He listens to the chemist who lectures upon their fermentation and comparative strengths; and gives ear to the physician who dogmatizes upon their wholesomeness. He tries to be droll, and condescends to be jocose. He quotes the Lapland Priest, whose stock of Latin was included in the four emphatic words, "Bonum vinum pone circum;" and, to the old gentleman who is wedded to Hock, he puns upon Ausonius' wellknown conceit, "Hoc pereunte fugis; hoc fugiente peris."

He is inclined to think Porson the greatest man that England ever produced. He excuses his heretical politics when mentioned when not mentioned, he says nothing about them. After the Professor, he is content to rank Newton, Milton, and Shakespeare; though he dislikes the republicanism of the second, and the irregu

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larity of the last. He sneers most contemptuously at all who venture to compare the bard of Avon with the Greek tragedians; and though he pretends to admire his comedies, willingly leaves the Merry Wives of Windsor for the quaintnesses of Ignoramus. If an Englishman, he ridicules the Scottish pronunciation of Latin; and, in

deed, that of every other country. If a Scotchman, he has a contempt for Oxford, and no love for Cambridge. He dies at about the age of sixty of a bilious attack, having never been perfectly well since his last visit to his college. T. D.

MR BARKER'S RETORT COURTEOUS, TO THE EXPOSTULATION UNNECESSARY.

MR EDITOR,

To the 46th Number of the Classical Journal, published on July 1st, rather more than two months prior to the date of the Expostulatory Letter of your Constant Reader, in the last Number of your Magazine, was appended the following advertisement: "In the press,-Aristarchus AntiBlomfieldianus, or, A Reply to the Notice of the New Greek Thesaurus, inserted in the 44th Number of the Quarterly Review, by E. H. Barker. Part 2d. In this Second Part will be found Critical Remarks on Lobeck's Phrynichi Ecloga, Creuzer's Commentatt. Herodotea, Mr G. Burges's Eschyli Supplices, Osann's Philemo Grammaticus, Dr Maltby's Edition of Morell's Thes. and other Works. In the Appendix will be given Extracts from the MS. Lexicon of Eudemus, and a complete Index of all the new Words, which have been discussed and noticed in the New Gr. Thes." And I was therefore much surprised to find that the Constant Reader was not in the habit of perusing that Classical Journal, on which he has, in his first communication to you, influenced, no doubt, by motives of a peculiar nature, poured out the vials of his wrath. But, though the work was thus announced as in the press, yet circumstances of a domestic nature have so fully occupied, and will continue so to occupy, my leisure, as to prevent me from proceeding with the publication of the MSS., which have for many months been nearly ready for the press. The Index has required more time than I had expected that it would require, and it is not yet completed; and the accelerated progress of the Thes. leaves me but very few moments in the course of the day for such classical recreations; and with these accumulated obstacles there is, I fear, but little chance that his ami

able feelings towards myself will be gratified, and his laudable zeal for the interests of literature excited, and his ardent thirst for knowledge satiated, by the appearance of my book, till after Christmas. However, when he again visits Thetford, if he will fayour me with a call, he shall have a view of the MSS., and he can at once refresh his body with the mineral waters, and his spirit with this Castalian spring.

He" entreats me to come forward," as "he has nothing to laugh at ;" and I shall at all times be ready to do so, if his wisdom keeps pace with his mirth,-if he will listen to the homely, but not yet, I hope, antiquated, proverb-BE MERRY AND WISE. Possibly, when I do come forward, he may alter his note, and his ridiculous laugh may be changed into a Sardonic grin. In the mean time he may find a rich fund for mirth, as a person of more sober and dignified habits would find ample matter for regret, in the recent exposures of Dr Blomfield's Plagiarisms, and the more perfect developement of his character, by Mr G. Burges in the Classical Journal, and in his Eschyli Supplices.

The Constant Reader can have no idea of the extraordinary shock which he has given to my politics, and the dreadful emotions which even you, sir, and your readers, must have experienced on perceiving that he views the attack on Mr Alderman Waithman, at Knightsbridge-Barracks, the events in which Mr Alderman Wood has been engaged, and the transactions in which Sir Robert Wilson has borne a part, as "tragedies." Never was any inference more logically correct than the one which I have drawn; for, immediately after the mention of those eminent personages, with a pointed allusion to recent occurrences, he adds,-"I hear of no new tragedies."

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My astonishment has been still further augmented on finding that in new tragedies," he looks for what he terms "mirthful emotions," "sportive matter," "something to laugh at." And still the wonder grows," that he should connect those political affairs with literary matters.

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For my part, so long as he continues to write such articles, (they may, however, prove useful to you for Balaam,) I shall never want topics for laughter. The Constant Reader is always witty himself, or the cause of wit in others; and those who have a plenteous patience to peruse his pages, must perpetually smile with him or at him. Even in this last effort of his muse, he has been true to his character-distinguished by a peculiar felicity of errour. 1. He asks," What is a petulanti splene cachinno to do?" as if his interrogatory could stand without the aid of any person. Had he included the verb sum in his quotation, as in the original of Persius, he would have been protected by classical authority:-Quid faciam? sed sum petulanti splene cachinno.-Sat. I, 12. 2d. He adds that "well does Mr Barker know that

Victrix causa diis placuit sed victa Catoni."

But, unforunately, Mr B. does not "know" the line with a false quantity in it. And yet the Constant Reader, who has reaped the benefit of an education in the University, can ungenerously talk about Mr Waithman having utterly demolished the pate of our old friend Priscian," when the worthy Alderman never had any such inestimable advantages! Lord Bacon, in his Advancement of Learning, shews, that learning improves private virtues," takes away the wildness, and barbarism, and fierceness of men's minds,' takes away all levity, temerity, and insolency,'' takes away all vain admiration; and while the Constant Reader finds the virtues of public men a fit subject for raillery, while he finds himself in full possession of all the bad qualities of the heart, which are here enumerated, and while his mind retains that vain admiration' of Dr Blomfield, which he has avowed in his previous communications to you, he may feel assured, that he has not attained the learning contemplated by the philosopher, and that the alderman may, in these and similar respects, leave him at an immeasurable distance.

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The Constant Reader is pleased to ask a very polite question of those whom he expects to peruse his lucubrations: "Does Mr Barker suspect, that, like his namesake Anubis, latrator Anubis, he is over-matched in fight, and will go forth but to be beaten? Mr B. has no such fears of him self, as the event will prove

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"But he had a club The dragon to drub,

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Or he had ne'er don't, I warrant ye.” Dragon of Wantly. The Constant Reader terms Mr B. latrator; but, with all his knowledge of dogs, he probably never read the learned work of Joannes Caius, de Canibus Britannicis, republished by Dr Jebb in 1729, 12mo. Dogs are there divided into three species, Generosam, Rusticam, et Degenerem; and as the Constant Reader certainly does not seem to belong to the first species, I will leave to him the agreeable task of tracing his pedigree from either of the other two. My own idea is, that he is a sort of mongrel, descended partly from the Vertagus, "Tumbler," of which species Caius says, p. 9:"Quod dolo agit, vertagum nostri dicunt, quod se, dum prædatur, vertat, et circumacto corpore, impetu quodam in ipso specus ostio feram opprimit et intercepit;" and partly from the CANIS FURAX, " qui jubente hero noctu progreditur, et sine latratu odore adverso persequens cuniculos, cursu prehendit quos herus permiserit, et ad heri stationem reportet. Vocant incola canem nocturnum, quod venetur noctu."-P. 10. The strange tricks by which he imposes on your readers, the awkward gambols which he plays in argument, the ungenerous pursuit of his game in the dark, his servile submission to, and his blind adulation of his master, but too plainly indicate the cross-breed-the vices of both species without the virtues of either-the counterfeit genius of both, with the real mediocrity of talents belonging to more ignoble animals.

His joke about THES., first broached by the Quarterly Reviewer of the Greek Thesaurus, then retailed entire by the Anti-Jacobin Reviewer, then poured into his first letter, as genuine home-brewed wit, and bottled for domestic use, on every occasion, has become sufficiently stale; and the Second Part of my Aristarchus AntiBlomfieldianus, will tell to him the cu rious fact, that the merit of the ab

breviation belongs not to Mr Barker, but to scholars of an earlier date, and not more to Mr B. than to the Mus. Crit. Cantebr., where it is often employed.

As the Constant Reader, though "looking around him like a vulture perched on an eminence for objects on which he may gratify his insatiable thirst for rapine," (Robert Hall,) can, as he states, find "no new tragedies" to excite his "mirthful emotions," and cannot for some time expect the perusal of my intended publication, in these vacant hours I may with great propriety endeavour to furnish him with fit topics for consideration, and none appear to me more likely to assist him than the following extracts from the venerable Jeremy Taylor :

"Commonly curious persons, or, as the Apostle's phrase is, busie-bodies, are not solicitous or inquisitive into the beauty and order of a well-governed family, or after the vertues of an excellent person; but if there be any thing for which men keep locks, and bars, and porters,-things that blush to see the light, and either are shameful in manners, or private in nature,

these things are their business. But busie-bodies must feed upon tragedies, and stories of misfortunes, and crimes. Envy and idleness married together, and begot curiosity; therefore Plutarch rarely well compares curious and inquisitive ears to the execrable gates of cities, out of which only malefactors, and hangmen, and tragedies pass nothing that is chaste or holy."Holy Living, ch. II. § 5.

This crime (of slander) is a conjugation of evils, and is productive of infinite mischiefs; it undermines peace, and saps the foundation of friendship; it destroys families, and rends in pieces the very heart and vital parts of charity; it makes an evil man party, and witness, and judge, and executioner of the innocent."

The Good and Evil Tongue, Sermon

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LETTER FROM BILL TRUCK, TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH, ESQ.
DEAR KIT,

(Excuse me, for I love the old ship-shape looking monosyllable vastly)-You should have heard from me long ere this time, had I not been bored to death by a whole gang of the Fancy in your way, every soul of them bothering me with his opinion as to how I should steer; and every one of them agreeing as well with each other as the old hooker herself does to her course with the wind all round the compass. It certainly was my first intention, my good lad, like a plain man unused to writing, after having, with your able assistance, introduced the Man-of-War's Man to the notice of your reading and admiring world; and moreover, after seriously advising him to spin his yarns of short and sweet things to it and to you—in a manner, of course, worthy your high-flying and admirable Miscellany-without paying the smallest attention to that dull, Dutchman built affair, your plodding mechanical crones call Regular Narrative, to have left the young fellow, like a good pilot, to pursue his voyage in his own way, under your safe convoy ; and all this in the innocence of my heart, I frankly told these inquisitive interrogators. Zounds! would you believe it, Mr North? I found myself in as bad a mess as the old blade and his donky; I was scouted, and teazed, and worried so unmercifully, that I was glad to haul down my jabber and sing out for quarter, for their pshaws and nonsenses, and other such like pop-shot, were whistling round my head and ears as thickly as a North Sea sleet shower. Amidst all their flummery, however, and many a fancy flam was proposed, they agreed that nothing would do half so well as a long-winded, well-told, regular built story, in which I was bound to clear

poor Davis, (my protégée they were pleased to term him, d-n their French!) from the smallest taint of reproach, by telling all I knew of his family for the two or three last generations at least! Here was a duty to load an old Greenwich-man with!-So d'ye see, my dear lad, I first looked gruff, then swore a little, for I could'nt help it, and then I flatly refused the job." Mayhap, gentlemen," says I, "you're not aware," says I, "that you assign me a task for which I am unfit. I know nothing of your shore matters," says I," and no shame to me; but if you think it will advantage the poor young fellow," says I," in God's name set about it directly, any one of ye that chooses.”—This was all the rogues wanted, I believe, for away they went, nor did I hear from them again till about ten days afterwards, when I received the package containing the precious narration; to which I had but two objections, but they were clinchers. In the first place, this same narration was as bulky as an admiral's instructions, and as long as a best bower, and of course, my dear fellow, would have occupied far too much room in your so much envied aréna; and secondly, the matter of it, to my taste, was quite trashy-as bad indeed as black strap, or six-water grog—by no means a plain, sober, sensible story, but swollen and inflated like an old woman in a dropsy, with the poetry and puffery of sentiment; every period being scissared as neatly as a round-robin, and sense throughout the whole of it completely massacred at the shrine of sound and nonsense. Disgusted with it, and somewhat chagrined, I confess, at the loss of so much good time, I was not a whit made better, you may be certain, upon discovering that the writer of this fancy affair was no other than a young spink of a nephew of mine, who, because I have sometimes allowed the puppy a little familiarity with me of an evening, and because, forsooth, his father has been fool enough to spend as much money in the keeping him at College as might have sent him with a cargo to the coast of Guinea, thinks himself, I suppose, as good a judge of public opinion, as you or I, Mr North, who have seen service! D-n the impertinent son of a dog-fish, I had good a mind to spritsail-yard him, and turn him adrift !

I am now more cool, my dear Kit, and have begun to think there must be something in the matter after all. Lest, therefore, my dear boy, you should be something of the puppy's opinion, I will cheerfully volunteer, as I wish to stand well in yours, to tell you the young lad's story in my own way; for it can be done in the twirl of a mop-stick. You must know, then, that Edward's father, from his youth up, was a rampageous, high-spirited, tearing sort of fellow, who thought proper to marry his mother at hap-hazard, without consulting the wishes of a single soul of his family; for which offence he was very properly, like a young mutinous rascal, immediately bundled off, by the grandfather, in the service of the Honourable the East India Company. His mother, shortly after unshipping herself of a son, also disappeared-most people thought in search of her husband-leaving Edward to the care of the old boy, who very honestly, taking a notion of the youngster, fed, and clothed, and schooled him to the mast-head. Being, however, a real chip of the old block, you'll not hinder the young skemp from very early betraying a peculiar address in nosing out every thing that appeared in the shape of a petticoat: nor was it long before his grandfather discovered him on the eve of forming a very improper indissoluble connection with another skittish hop-mythumb, something like himself. He immediately put in his spoke, and forbade the banns; on which my young sensitive, fretting, and fizzing, and fuming like a pot-fire in water, after committing as many extravagances and ridiculous gri

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