where your friend-you know who-has just got such a threshing, Tra. I say she's an angel. Ink. Say rather an angle. That it is, as the phrase goes, extremely "refresh- If you and she marry, you'll certainly wrangle, ing." I say she's a Blue, man, as blue as the ether. Tra. And is that any cause for not coming together? What a beautiful word! Ink. Very true; 'tis so soft And so cooling-they use it a little too oft; And the papers have got it at last-but no matter. So they've cut up our friend then? Tra. Not left him a tatterNot a rag of his present or past reputation, Which they call a disgrace to the age and the nation. Ink. I'm sorry to hear this; for friendship, you know Our poor friend!-but I thought it would terminate 80. Our friendship is such, I'll read nothing to shock it. You do'nt happen to have the Review in your pocket? Tra. No; I left a round dozen of authors and others (Very sorry, no doubt, since the cause is a brother's) All scrambling and jostling, like so many imps, And on fire with impatience to get the next glimpse. Ink. Let us join them. Tra. What, won't you return to the lecture? Ink. Why, the place is so cramm'd there's not room for a spectre. Besides, our friend Scamp is to-day so absurd- Loss-such a palaver! labor, neighbor. Ink. Humph! I can't say I know any happy alliance Which has lately sprung up from a wedlock with science. She's so learned in all things, and fond of concerning I perhaps may as well hold my tongue, But there's five hundred people can tell you you're wrong. Tra. You forget Lady Lilac's as rich as a Jew. The girl's a fine girl. Tra. Let her live, and as long as she likes; I demand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand. Ink. Why, that heart's in the inkstand-that hand on the pen. Tra. Apropos-Will you write me a song now and then? That--come-do not make me speak ill of one's For the heart of a fair like a stanza or two; Tra I make you! Ink Yes, you! I said nothing until You compell'd me, by speaking the truthTra. To speak ill? Is that your deduction ? Ink. Tra. When speaking of Scamp ill, Do you think me subdued by a Blue-stocking's eye, I certainly follow, not set an example. So far as to tremble to tell her in rhyme The fellow's a fool, an imposter, a zany. Tra. I would, butInk. Pray, then, let us retire. What I've told her in prose, at the least as sublime? Ink. As sublime! If it be so, no need of my Muse Tra. But consider, dear Inkel, she's one of the "Blues." Ink. As sublime!-Mr. Tracy-I've nothing to say. There must be attraction much higher Stick to prose-as sublime!!-but I wish you good Than Scamp, or the Jews' harp he nicknames his lyre, Tra. And is not that a sigr I respect them? All flocking to moisten their exquisite throttles Ink. That's my bookseller's business; I care not Like a fool, I must needs do the thing in a hurry for sale; Indeed the best poems at first rather fail. My life is reversed, and my quiet destroy'd; There were Renegade's epics, and Botherby's plays, Must now, every hour of the twelve, be employ'd: Had its full share of praise. I myself saw it puff'd in the "Old Girl's Review." Ink. What Review? Tra. 'Tis the English "Journal de Trevoux;" Tra. Make haste then. Ink. The twelve do I say of the whole twenty-four, In science and art, I'll be curst if I know Why so? soon done In a style that proclaims us eternally one. But the thing of all things which distresses me more Is the numerous, humorous, backbiting crew As friend Scamp shall be pleased to step down from No pleasure! no leisure! no thought for my pains, the moon, (Where he seems to be soaring in search of his wits,) Of his lecture, to treat him with cold tongue and And I own, for my own part, that 'tis not unpleasant. No doubt-to the pocket. Tra. You should rather encourage my passion than shock it. But let us proceed; for I think, by the hum Ink. Very true; let us go, then, before they can Or else we'll be kept here an hour at their levy, But the luncheon attends. next me. Oh, my dear Lady, Sir Rich. (aside.) If he does, his fatigue is to come Lady Blueb. Mr. TracyOf old Botherby's spouting, ex-cathedra tone, Lady Bluemount-Miss Lilac-be pleased, pray, to Ay. there he is at it. Poor Scamp! better join place ye; Your friends, or he'll pay you back in your own coin. And you, Mr. BotherbyTra All fair; 'tis but lecture for lecture. Both. Ink That's clear. I obey. But for God's sake let's go, or the bore will be here. Lady Blueb. Mr. Inkel, I ought to upbraid ye: Came, come: nay, I'm off. [Exit INKEL. You were not at the lecture. You are right, and I'll follow; Ink. Excuse me, I was: Tis high time for a "Sic me servavit Apollo." But the heat forced me out in the best part-alas! And yet we shall have the whole crew on our kibes, And when Blu dandies, and dowagers, and second-hand scribes. Tra Lady Blueb. To be sure it was broiling; but they You have lost such a lecture! The first time he has turn'd both his creed and his However, to save my friend Betherby trouble, Sir Rich. But this placeInk. A lecturer's. Is perhaps like friend Scamp's, Stick to those of your play, which is quite your own Lady Bluem. Both. And for shame! Lady Bluem. How good? You're too bad. Very good! Lady Blueb. He means nought-'tis his phrase. Lady Bluem. He grows rude. Lady Blueb. He means nothing; nay, ask him. Lady Bluem. Pray, sir! did you mean What you say? Ink. Never mind if he did: 'twill be seen That whatever he means won't alloy what he says. Both. Sir! Ink. Pray be content with your portion of praise; Twas in your defence. line. Lady Bluem. You're a fugitive writer I think, sir; of rhymes ? Ink. Yes, ma'am ; and a fugitive reader sometimes. On Wordswords, for instance, I seldom alight, Or on Mouthey, his friend, without taking to flight. Lady Bluem. Sir, your taste is too common; but Time and posterity Will right these great men, and this age's severity Become its reproach. Ink. I've no sort of objection, So I'm not of the party to take the infection. Lady Blueb. Perhaps you have doubts that they ever will take? Ink. Not at all; on the contrary, those of the lake Have taken already, and still will continue To take-what they can, from a groat to a guinea, Of pension or place ;-but the subject's a bore! Lady Bluem. Well, sir, the time's coming. Ink. Scamp! don't you feel sore? What say you to this? Scamp. They have merit, I own; Though their system's absurdity keeps it unknown. Ink. Then why not unearth it in one of your lectures ? Scamp. It is only time past which comes under my strictures. Lady Blueb. Come, a truce with all tartness: the joy of my heart Is to see Nature's triumph o'er all that is art Wild Nature!-Grand Shakspeare! Both. And down Aristotle! And making them substance: And my Lord Seventy-four, who protects our dear And who gave him his place, has the greatest regard Scamp. I needs must confess I'm embarrass'd. and all schools. 'tis something Ink. Shall I help you, my friend, to a little more Both. I thank you; not any more, sir, till I dine. Tra. I should think with Duke Humphrey was more in your way. Ink. It might be of yore; but we authors now look To the knight. as a landlord. much more than the Duke. With old schools, and new schools, and no schools, The truth is, each writer now quite at his ease is, And (except with his publisher) dines where he pleases. Tra. Well, one thing is certain, that some must I should like to know who. But 'tis now nearly five, and I must to the Park. Excuse me; I must to my notes, worry. This "feast of our reason, and flow of the soul." not This gentle emotion, so seldom our lot Upon earth. Give it way; 'tis an impulse which lifts Our spirits from earth; the sublimest of gifts; "Tis the source of all sentiment-feeling's true 'Tis the Vision of Heaven upon Earth: 'tis the gas Of the soul: 'tis the seizing of shades as they pass, • Fart from life, with the words. Ink. Well, now we break up; For the sciences, sandwiches, hcck, and champagne! I honor that meal; question; I wish to the gods 'twas the same with digestion ! Is worth-God knows what. Sir Rich. (aside.) I wish all these people were |