ESSAY ON IMITATIONS OF THE ANCIENT BALLAD. THE invention of printing necessarily occasioned the downfall of the Order of Minstrels, already reduced to contempt by their own bad habits, by the disrepute attached to their profession, and by the laws calculated to repress their license. When the Metrical Romances were very many of them in the hands of every one, the occupation of those who made their living by reciting them was in some degree abolished, and the minstrels either disappeared altogether, or sunk into mere musicians, whose utmost acquaintance with poetry was being able to sing a ballad. Perhaps Old Anthony, who acquired, from the song which he accounted his masterpiece, the name of Anthony Now Now, was one of the last of this class in the capital; nor does the tenor of his poetry evince whether it was his own composition, or that of some other.t A sweeter creature in the world "Her crisped locks, like threads of gold Her sparkling eyes, like orient pearls, "The blood within her crystal cheeks For mastery did strive." It may be rash to affirm, that those who lived by singing this more refined poetry, were a class of men different from the ancient minstrels; but it appears, that both the name of the professors, and the character of the Minstrel poetry, had sunk in reputa tion. The facility of versification, and of poetical diction, But the taste for popular poetry did not decay is decidedly in favour of the moderns, as might with the class of men by whom it had been for reasonably be expected from the improved taste, some generations practised and preserved. Not and enlarged knowledge, of an age which abounded only did the simple old ballads retain their ground, to such a degree in poetry, and of a character so though circulated by the new art of printing, instead imaginative as was the Elizabethan era. The of being preserved by recitation; but in the Gar- poetry addressed to the populace, and enjoyed by lands, and similar collections for general sale, the them alone, was animated by the spirit that was authors aimed at a more ornamental and regular breathed around. We may cite Shakspeare's unstyle of poetry than had been attempted by the old questionable and decisive evidence in this respect. minstrels, whose composition, if not extempora In Twelfth Night he describes a popular ballad, neous, was seldom committed to writing, and was with a beauty and precision which no one but himnot, therefore, susceptible of accurate revision. This self could have affixed to its character; and the was the more necessary, as even the popular poetry whole constitutes the strongest appeal in favour of was now feeling the effects arising from the ad- that species of poetry which is written to suit the vance of knowledge, and the revival of the study of taste of the public in general, and is most naturally the learned languages, with all the elegance and re-preserved by oral tradition. But the remarkable finement which it induced. part of the circumstance is, that when the song is actually sung by Festé the clown, it differs in almost all particulars from what we might have been justified in considering as attributes of a popular ballad of that early period. It is simple, doubtless, both in structure and phraseology, but is rather a love song than a minstrel ballad-a love song, also, which, though its imaginative figures of speech are of a very simple and intelligible character, may nevertheless be compared to any thing rather than the boldness of the preceding age, and resembles nothing less than the ordinary minstrel ballad. The original, though so well known, may be here quoted, for the purpose of showing, what was, in Shakspeare's time, regarded as the poetry of "the old age." Almost every one has the passage by heart, yet I must quote it, because there seems a marked difference between the species of poem which is described, and that which is sung: In short, the general progress of the country led to an improvement in the department of popular poetry, tending both to soften and melodize the language employed, and to ornament the diction bevond that of the rude minstrels, to whom such topics of composition had been originally abandoned. The monotony of the ancient recitals was, for the same causes, altered and improved upon. The eternal descriptions of battles, and of love dilemmas, which, to satiety, filled the old romances with trivial repetition, were retrenched. If any one wishes to compare the two eras of lyrical poetry, a few verses taken from one of the latest minstrel ballads, and one of the earliest that were written for the press, will afford him, in some degree, the power of doing so. The rude lines from Anthony Now Now, which we have just quoted, may, for example, be compared, as Ritson requests, with the ornamented commencement of the ballad of Fair Rosamond: "When as King Henry ruled this land, The second of the name, Besides his queen he dearly loved "Most peerless was her beauty found, [This essay was written in April, 1830, and forms a continuation of the Remarks on Popular Poetry."-ED.] He might be supposed a contemporary of Henry VIII., if the greeting which he pretends to have given to that monarch is of his own composition, and spoken in his own person. "Good morrow to our noble king, quoth I; Good morrow, quoth he, to thou: And then he said to Anthony, O Anthony now now now." Not a friend, not a friend greet' Sad true lover never find my grave, Even the last contests of Jacobitism were recited Iwith great vigour in ballads of the time, the authors of some of which are known and remembered; nor is there a more spirited ballad preserved than that of Mr. Skirving,§ (father of Skirving the artist,) upon the battle of Prestonpans, so late as 1745. But this was owing to circumstances connected with the habits of the people in a remote and rude country, which could not exist in the richer and wealthier provinces of England. On comparing this love elegy, or whatever it may be entitled, with the ordinary, and especially the earlier popular poetry, I cannot help thinking that a great difference will be observed in the structure of the verse, the character of the sentiments, the ornaments and refinement of the language. Neither, On the whole, however, the ancient Heroic balindeed, as might be expected from the progress of lad, as it was called, seemed to be fast declining human affairs, was the change in the popular style among the more enlightened and literary part of of poetry achieved without some disadvantages, both countries; and if retained by the lower classes which counterbalanced, in a certain degree, the su- in Scotland, it had in England ceased to exist, or perior art and exercise of fancy which had been in-degenerated into doggerel of the last degree of viletroduced of late times. The expressions of Sir Philip Sidney, an unquestionable judge of poetry, flourishing in Elizabeth's golden reign, and drawing around him, like a magnet, the most distinguished poets of the age, amongst whom we need only name Shakspeare and Spenser, still show something to regret when he compared the highly wrought and richly ornamented poetry of his own time, with the ruder but more energetic diction of Chevy Chase. His words, often quoted, cannot yet be dispensed with on the present occasion. They are a chapter in the history of ancient poetry. "Certainly," says the brave knight, "I must confess my own barbarousness; I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas, that I found not my heart more moved than with a trumpet. And vet it is sung by some blind crowder, with no rougher voice than rude style, which being so evil apparelled in the dust and cobwebs of that uncivil age, what would it work, trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindar?"* If we inquire more particularly what were the peculiar charms by which the old minstrel ballad produced an effect like a trumpet-sound upon the bosom of a real son of chivalry, we may not be wrong in ascribing it to the extreme simplicity with which the narrative moves forward, neglecting all the more minute ornaments of speech and diction, to the grand object of enforcing on the hearer a striking and affecting catastrophe. The author seems too serious in his wish to affect the audience, to allow himself to be drawn aside by any thing which can, either by its tenor, or the manner in which it is spoken, have the perverse effect of distracting attention from the catastrophe. Such grand and serious beauties, however, occurred but rarely to the old minstrels; and, in order to find them, it became necessary to struggle through long passages of monotony, languor, and inanity. Unfortunately it also happened, that those who, like Sidney, could ascertain, feel, and do full justice to the beauties of the heroic ballad, were few, compared to the numbers who could be sensible of the trite verbiage of a bald passage, or the ludicrous effect of an absurd rhyme. In England, accordingly, the popular ballad fell into contempt during the seventeenth century; and although in remote countiest its inspiration was occasionally the source of a few verses, it seems to have become almost entirely obsolete in the capital. Even the Civil Wars, which gave so much occasion for poetry, produced rather song and satire, than the ballad or popular epic. The curious reader may satisfy himself on this point, should he wish to ascertain the truth of the allegation, by looking through D'Urfey's large and curious collection, when he will be aware that the few ballads which it contains are the most ancient productions in the book, and very seldom take their date after the commencement of the seventeenth century. In Scotland, on the contrary, the old minstrel ballad long continued to preserve its popularity. Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poesy. A curious and spirited specimen occurs in Cornwall, as late as the trial of the Bishops before the Revolution. The President of the Royal Society of London (Mr. Davies Gilbert] has not disdained the trouble of preserving it from oblivion. [Pills to Purge Melancholy.] $ (See Hogg's Jacobite Relics, vol. i.-E.] ness. Subjects the most interesting were abandoned to the poorest rhymers, and one would have thought that, as in an ass-race, the prize had been destined to the slowest of those who competed for the prize. The melancholy fate of Miss Ray, who fell by the hands of a frantic lover, could only inspire the Grub Street muse with such verses as these,-that is, if I remember them correctly: A Sandwich favourite was this fair, A clergyman, O wicked one, It's hoped He's not forgot her." If it be true, as in other cases, that when things are at the worst they must mend, it was certainly time to expect an amelioration in the department in which such doggerel passed current. Accordingly, previous to this time, a new species of poetry seems to have arisen, which in some cases endeavoured to pass itself as the production of genuine antiquity, and in others, honestly avowed an attempt to emulate the merits and avoid the errors with which the old ballad was encumbered; and in the effort to accomplish this, a species of composi tion was discovered, which is capable of being subjected to peculiar rules of criticism, and of exhibiting excellencies of its own. In writing for the use of the general reader, rather than the poetical antiquary, I shall be readily excused from entering into any inquiry respecting the authors who first showed the way in this peculiar department of modern poetry, which I may term the imitation of the old ballad, especially that of the latter or Elizabethan era. One of the oldest, according to my recollection, which pretends to engraft modern refinement upon ancient simplicity, is extremely beautiful, both from the words and the simple and affecting melody to which they are usually sung. The title is, "Lord Henry and Fair Catherine." It begins thus: "In ancient days, in Britain's isle, No knight in all the land more famed, Or more deserved renown. "His thoughts were all on honour bent, His frozen heart to move." species of composition became popular. We find Early in the eighteenth century, this peculiar Tickell, the friend of Addison, who produced the beautiful ballad, "Of Leinster famed for maidens fair." Mallet, Goldsmith, Shenstone, Percy, and many others, followed an example which had much to recommend it, especially as it presented considerable facilities to those who wished, at as little exertion of trouble as possible, to attain for themselves a certain degree of literary reputation. Before, however, treating of the professed imitators of Ancient Ballad Poetry, I ought to say a [Miss Ray, the beautiful mistress of the Earl of Sandwich, then First Lord of the Admiralty, was assassinated by Mr. Hackman," in a fit of frantic jealous love," as Boswell expresses it, in See Croker's Boswell, vol. iv. p. 254.-ED.] 1779. word upon those who have written their imitations | singular instance of critical ingenuity was the comwith the preconceived purpose of passing them for position of an Eton schoolboy. ancient. There is no small degree of cant in the violent invectives with which impostors of this nature have been assailed. In fact, the case of each is special, and ought to be separately considered, according to its own circumstances. If a young, perhaps a female author, chooses to circulate a beautiful poem, we will suppose that of Hardyknute, under the disguise of antiquity, the public is surely more enriched by the contribution than injured by the deception. It is hardly possible, indeed, without a power of poetical genius, and acquaintance with ancient language and manners possessed by very few, to succeed in deceiving those who have made this branch of literature their study. The very desire to unite modern refinement with the verve of the ancient minstrels, will itself betray the masquerade, A minute acquaintance with ancient customs, and with ancient history, is also demanded, to sustain a part which, as it must rest on deception, cannot be altogether an honourable one. The author may be permitted to speak as an artist on this occasion, (disowning, at the same time, all purpose of imposition,) as having written, at the request of the late Mr. Ritson, one or two things of this kind, among others, a continuation of the romance of Thomas of Ercildoune, the only one which chances to be preserved, and which the reader will find in a subsequent part of this volume. And he thinks himself entitled to state, that a modern poet engaged in such a task, is much in the situation of an architect of the present day, who, if acquainted with his profession, finds no difficulty in copying the external forms of a Gothic castle or abbey; but when it is completed, can hardly, by any artificial tints or cement, supply the spots, weather-stains, and hues of different kinds, with which time alone had invested the venerable fabric which he desires to imitate. Leaving this branch of the subject, in which the difficulty of passing off what is modern for what is ancient cannot be matter of regret, we may bestow Two of the most distinguished authors' of this with advantage some brief considerations on the elaes have, in this manner, been detected; being fair trade of manufacturing modern antiques, not for deficient in the knowledge requisite to support their the purpose of passing them as contraband goods genius in the disguise they meditated. Hardyknute, on the skilful antiquary, but in order to obtain the for instance, already mentioned, is irreconcilable credit due to authors as successful imitators of the with all chronology, and a chief with a Norwegian ancient simplicity, while their system admits of a name is strangely introduced as the first of the considerable infusion of modern refinement. Two nobles brought to resist a Norse invasion, at the classes of imitation may be referred to as belonging battle of Largs: the "needle-work so rare,' 31 intro-to this species of composition. When they approach duced by the fair authoress, must have been certainly each other, there may be some difficulty in assigning long posterior to the reign of Alexander III. In to individual poems their peculiar character, but in Chatterton's ballad of "Sir Charles Baudwin," we general the difference is distinctly marked. The find an anxious attempt to represent the composi- distinction lies betwixt the authors of ballads or tion as ancient, and some entries in the public legendary poems, who have attempted to imitate accounts of Bristol were appealed to in corrobora- the language, the manners, and the sentiments of Don. But neither was this ingenious but most the ancient poems which were their prototypes; unhappy young man, with all his powers of poetry, and those, on the contrary, who, without endeavourand with the antiquarian knowledge which he had ing to do so, have struck out a particular path for collected with indiscriminating but astonishing re-themselves, which cannot with strict propriety be search, able to impose on that part of the public termed either ancient or modern. qualified to judge of the compositions, which it had occurred to him to pass off as those of a monk of the 14th century. It was in vain that he in each word doubled the consonants, like the sentinels of an endangered army. The art used to disguise and mispell the words only overdid what was intended, and afforded sure evidence that the poems published as antiques had been, in fact, tampered with by a modern artist, as the newly forged medals of modern days stand convicted of imposture from the very touches of the file, by which there is an attempt to imitate the cracks and fissures produced by the hammer upon the original.t In the actual imitation of the ancient ballad, Dr. Percy, whose researches made him well acquainted with that department of poetry, was pecularly successful. The "Hermit of Warkworth,' the "Childe of Elle," and other minstrel tales of his composition, must always be remembered with fondness by those who have perused them in that period of life when the feelings are strong, and the taste for poetry, especially of this simple nature, is keen and poignant. This learned and amiable prelate was also remarkable for his power of restoring the ancient ballad, by throwing in touches of poetry, so adapted to its tone and tenor, as to assimilate I have only met, in my researches into these with its original structure, and impress every one matters, with one poem, which, if it had been pro- who considered the subject as being coeval with the duced as ancient, could not have been detected on rest of the piece. It must be owned, that such internal evidence. It is the "War Song upon the freedoms, when assumed by a professed antiquary, victory at Brunnanburg, translated from the Anglo- addressing himself to antiquaries, and for the sake Saxon into Anglo-Norman," by the Right Honour-of illustrating literary antiquities, are subject to great able John Hookham Frere. See Ellis's Specimens of Ancient English Poetry, vol. i. p. 32. The accomplished Editor tells us, that this very singular poem was intended as an imitation of the style and language of the fourteenth century, and was written daring the controversy occasioned by the poems attributed to Rowley. Mr. Ellis adds, "the reader will probably hear with some surprise, that this [Hardyknute was the first poem that I ever learnt-the last that I shall forget." MS. note of Sir Walter Scott on a leaf of Allan Ramsay's Tea table Miscellany.] This failure applies to the repairs and rifacimentos of old ballads, as well as to complete imitations. In the beautiful and sumple baliad of Gil Morris, some affected person has struck in one of two factitious verses, which, like vulgar persons in a drawing-room, betray themselves by their over finery. Thus, after the simple and affecting verse which prepares the readers for the coming tragedy, "Gil Morrice sat in good green wood, He whistled and he sang; 'O, what mean a' you folk coming, some such" vicious intromitter" as we have describod, (to use a and licentious abuse; and herein the severity of Ritson was to a certain extent justified. But when the license is avowed, and practised without the intention to deceive, it cannot be objected to but by scrupulous pedantry. The poet, perhaps, most capable, by verses, lines, even single words, to relieve and heighten the character of ancient poetry, was the Scottish bard Robert barbarous phrase for a barbarous proceeding,) has inserted the following quintessence of affectation: "His locks were like the threads of gold "His brow was like the mountain snow, His cheeks like living roses blow, His een like azure stream. "The boy was clad in robes of green, Sweet as the infant spring; And like the mavis on the bush, [See Sir Tristrem, post.] But when an example of popular poetry is produced as free from the fault which the critic has just censured, it is the well-known and beautiful poem of Edwin and Angelina! which, in felicitous attention to the language, and in fanciful ornament of imagery, is as unlike to a minstrel ballad, as a lady assuming the dress of a Shepherdess for a masquerade, is different from the actual Sisly of Salisbury Plain. Tickell's beautiful ballad is equally formed upon a pastoral, sentimental, and ideal model, not, however, less beautifully executed; and the attention of Addison's friend had been probably directed to the ballad stanza (for the stanza is all which is imitated) by the praise bestowed on Chevy Chase in the Spectator. Burns. We are not here speaking of the avowed | prove the sound, without carrying on the sense. lyrical poems of his own composition, which he communicated to Mr. George Thompson, but of the manner in which he recomposed and repaired the old songs and fragments for the collection of Johnson and others, when, if his memory supplied the theme, or general subject of the song, such as it existed in Scottish lore, his genius contributed that part which was to give life and immortality to the whole. If this praise should be thought extravagant, the reader may compare his splendid lyric, My heart's in the Highlands," with the tame and scarcely half-intelligible remains of that song as preserved by Mr. Peter Buchan. Or, what is perhaps a still more magnificent example of what we mean, Macpherson's Farewell," with all its spirit and grandeur, as repaired by Burns, may be collated with the original poem called "Macpherson's Lament," or sometimes the "Ruffian's Rant." In Burns's brilliant rifacimento, the same strain of wild ideas is expressed as we find in the original; but with an infusion of the savage and impassioned spirit of Highland chivalry, which gives a splendour to the composition, of which we find not a trace in the rudeness of the ancient ditty. I can bear witness to the older verses having been current while I was a child, but I never knew a line of the inspired edition of the Ayrshire bard until the appearance of Johnson's Museum. 66 Besides Percy, Burns, and others, we must not omit to mention Mr. Finlay, whose beautiful song, "There came a knight from the field of the slain," Upon a later occasion, the subject of Mallet's fine When youth and years are flown, Upon the whole, the ballad, though the best of Mallet's writing, is certainly inferior to its original, which I presume to be the very fine and even terri fic old Scottish tale, beginning, is so happily descriptive of antique manners; or Mickle, whose accurate and interesting imitations of the ancient ballad we have already mentioned with approbation in the former Essay on Ballad Composition. These, with others of modern date, at the head of whom we must place Thomas Moore, have aimed at striking the ancient harp with the same bold and rough note to which it was awakened by the ancient minstrels. Southey, Wordsworth, and other distinguished names of the present century, have, in repeated instances, dignified this branch of literature; but no one more than Coleridge, in the wild and imaginative tale of the "Ancient Mariner," which displays so much beauty with such eccentricity. We should act most unjustly in this "There came a ghost to Margaret's door.". department of Scottish ballad poetry, not to mention the names of Leyden, Hogg, and Allan Cunning- It may be found in Allan Ramsay's "Tea-table ham. They have all three honoured their country, Miscellany." by arriving at distinction from an humble origin, and We need only stop to mention another very beauthere is none of them under whose hand the ancient tiful piece of this fanciful kind, by Dr. Cartwright, Scottish harp has not sounded a bold and distin- called Armin and Elvira, containing some excellent guished tone. Miss Anne Bannerman likewise poetry, expressed with unusual felicity. I have a should not be forgotten, whose "Tales of Super-vision of having met this accomplished gentleman stition and Chivalry" appeared about 1802. They in my very early youth, and am the less likely to be were perhaps too mystical and too abrupt; yet if it mistaken, as he was the first living poet I recollect be the purpose of this kind of ballad poetry power- to have seen. His poem had the distinguished hofully to excite the imagination, without pretending nour to be much admired by our celebrated philosoto satisfy it, few persons have succeeded better than pher, Dugald Stewart, who was wont to quote with this gifted lady, whose volume is peculiarly fit to be much pathos, the picture of resignation in the fol read in a lonely house by a decaying lamp. lowing stanza : As we have already hinted, a numerous class of the authors (some of them of the very first class) who condescended to imitate the simplicity of ancient poetry, gave themselves no trouble to observe the costume, style, or manner, either of the old minstrel or ballad-singer, but assumed a structure of a separate and peculiar kind, which could not be correctly termed either ancient or modern, although made the vehicle of beauties which were common to both. The discrepancy between the mark which they avowed their purpose of shooting at, and that at which they really took aim, is best illustrated by a production of one of the most distinguished of their number. Goldsmith describes the young family of his Vicar of Wakefield, as amusing themselves with conversing about poetry. Mr. Burchell observes, that the British poets, who imitated the classics, have especially contributed to introduce a false taste, by loading their lines with epithets, so as to present a combination of luxuriant images, without plot or connexion,—a string of epithets that im "And while his eye to Heaven he raised, Its silent waters stole away."t After enumerating so many persons of undoubted genius, who have cultivated the Arcadian style of poetry, (for to such it may be compared,) it would be endless to enumerate the various Sir Eldreds of the hills and downs whose stories were woven into legendary tales--which came at length to be the name assigned to this half-ancient half-modern style of composition. In general I may observe, that the supposed facility of this species of composition, the alluring simplicity of which was held sufficient to support it, afforded great attractions for those, whose ambition led them to exercise their untried talents in verse, • If I am right in what must be a very early recollection, I saw Mr. Cartwright (then a student of medicine at the Edinburgh therford, M.D. university) at the house of my maternal grandfather, John Ru Happily altered by an admiring foreigner, who read "The silent waters stole away." but who were desirous to do so with the least pos- business for my standing, and the friendship of more sible expense of thought. The task seems to pre- than one person of consideration and influence effisent, at least to the inexperienced acolyte of the ciently disposed to aid my views in life. The private Muses, the same advantages which an instrument fortune, also, which I might expect, and finally inof sweet sound and small compass offers to those herited, from my family, did not, indeed, amount to who begin their studies in music. In either case, affluence, but placed me considerably beyond all aphowever, it frequently happens that the scholar, prehension of want. I mention these particulars getting tired of the palling and monotonous charac-merely because they are true. Many better men ter of the poetry or music which he produces, becomes desirous to strike a more independent note, even at the risk of its being a more difficult one. The same simplicity involves an inconvenience fatal to the continued popularity of any species of poetry, by exposing it in a peculiar degree to ridicule and to parody. Dr. Johnson, whose style of poetry was of a very different and more stately description, could ridicule the ballads of Percy, in such stanzas as these: "The tender infant, meek and mild, than myself have owed their rise from indigence and obscurity to their own talents, which were, doubtless, much more adequate to the task of raising them than any which I possess. But although it would be absurd and ungracious in me to deny, that I owe to literature many marks of distinction to which I could not otherwise have aspired, and particularly that of securing the acquaintance, and even the friendship, of many remarkable persons of the age, to whom I could not otherwise have made my way; it would, on the other hand, be ridiculous to affect gratitude to the public favour, either for my general position in society, or the means of supporting it with decency, matters which had been otherwith various slipshod imitations of the same quality.* wise secured under the usual chances of human It did not require his talents to pursue this vein of affairs. Thus much I have thought it necessary to raillery, for it was such as most men could imitate, say upon a subject, which is, after all, of very little and all could enjoy. It is, therefore, little wonder- consequence to any one but myself. I proceed to ful that this sort of composition should be repeated-detail the circumstances which engaged me in litely laid aside for considerable periods of time, and rary pursuits. certainly as little so, that it should have been repeatedly revived, like some forgotten melody, and have again obtained some degree of popularity, until it sunk once more under satire, as well as parody, but, above all, the effects of satiety. The nurse took up the squalling child, During the thirty years that I have paid some attention to literary matters, the taste for the ancient balad melody, and for the closer or more distant imitation of that strain of poetry, has more than once arisen, and more than once subsided, in consequence, perhaps, of too unlimited indulgence. That this has been the case in other countries, we know; for the Spanish poet, when he found that the beautiful Morisco romances were excluding all other topics, confers upon them a hearty malediction.t During the last ten years of the eighteenth century, the art of poetry was at a remarkably low ebb in Britain. Hayley, to whom fashion had some years before ascribed a higher degree of reputation than posterity has confirmed, had now lost his reputation for talent, though he still lived beloved and respected as an amiable and accomplished man. The Bard of Memory slumbered on his laurels, and He of Hope had scarce begun to attract his share of public attention. Cowper, a poet of deep feeling and bright genius, was still alive, indeed; but the hypochondria, which was his mental malady, impeded his popularity. Burns, whose genius our southern neighbours could hardly yet comprehend, had long confined himself to song-writing. Names which are now known and distinguished wherever the English language is spoken, were then only beginning to be mentioned; and, unless among the small number of persons who habitually devote a part of their leisure to literature, even those of Southey, Wordsworth, and Coleridge, were still but little known. The realms of Parnassus, like many a kingdom at the period, seemed to lie open to the first bold invader, whether he should be a daring usurper, or could show a legitimate title of sovereignty. A period when this particular taste for the popular ballad was in the most extravagant degree of fashion, became the occasion, unexpectedly indeed, of my deserting the profession to which I was educated, and in which I had sufficiently advantageous prospects for a person of limited ambition. I have, in a former publication, undertaken to mention this circumstance; and I will endeavour to do so with becoming brevity, and without more egotism than is positively exacted by the nature of the story. I may, in the first place, remark, that although the As far back as 1788, a new species of literature beassertion has been made, and that by persons who gan to be introduced into this country. Germany, seemed satisfied with their authority, it is a mistake long known as a powerful branch of the European to suppose that my situation in life or place in so- confederacy, was then, for the first time, heard of Cety were materially altered by such success as I as the cradle of a style of poetry and literature, of attained in literary attempts. My birth, without a kind much more analogous to that of Britain than giving the least pretension to distinction, was that either the French, Spanish, or Italian schools, though of a gentleman, and connected me with several re-all three had been at various times cultivated and Spectable families and accomplished persons. My imitated among us. The names of Lessing, Klopeducation had been a good one, although I was de- stock, Schiller, and other German poets of emiprived of its full benefit by indifferent health, just nence, were only known in Britain very imperfectly. at the period when I ought to have been most sedu-"The Sorrows of Werter" was the only composilous in improving it. The young men with whom tion that had attained any degree of popularity, and was brought up, and lived most familiarly, were the success of that remarkable novel, notwiththose who, from opportunities, birth, and talents, standing the distinguished genius of the author, was might be expected to make the greatest advances retarded by the nature of its incidents. To the other in the career for which we were all destined; and I compositions of Goethe, whose talents were deshave the pleasure still to preserve my youthful inti- tined to illuminate the age in which he flourished, macy with no inconsiderable number of them, whom the English remained strangers, and much more so their merit has carried forward to the highest ho- to Schiller, Bürger, and a whole cycle of foreigners nours of their profession. Neither was I in a situa- of distinguished merit. The obscurity to which tion to be embarrassed by the res angusta domi, German literature seemed to be condemned, did not which might have otherwise brought painful addi- arise from want of brilliancy in the lights by which tional obstructions to a path in which progress is it was illuminated, but from the palpable thickness proverbially slow. I enjoyed a moderate degree of of the darkness by which they were surrounded. Frederick II. of Prussia had given a partial and ungracious testimony against his native language and native literature, and impolitically and unwisely, as well as unjustly, had yielded to the French that superiority in letters, which, after his death, paved the * [Percy was especially annoyed, according to Boswell, with With his hat in his hand."-ED. I * See the Introduction to Lockhart's Spanish Ballads, 1823, p. 22. way for their obtaining, for a time, an equal supe |