Читать книгу The Rolliad, in Two Parts - George Ellis - Страница 18

In every new edition of this incomparable poem, it has been the invariable practice of the author, to take an opportunity of adverting to such recent circumstances, as have occurred since the original publication of it relative to any of the illustrious characters he has celebrated. The public has lately been assured that, the Marquis of Graham is elected Chancellor of the University of Glasgow, and has presented that learned body with a complete set of the engravings of Piranesi, an eminent Italian artist; of which we are happy to acquaint the Dilettanti, a few remaining sets are to be purchased at Mr. Alderman Boydell’s printshop, in Cheapside, price twelve pounds twelve shillings each. An anecdote reflecting so much honour upon one of the favourite characters of our author, could not pass unnoticed in the ROLLIAD; and accordingly, in his last edition, we find the following complimentary lines upon the subject:

If right the Bard, whose numbers sweetly flow,

That all our knowledge is ourselves to know;

A sage like GRAHAM, can the world produce,

Who in full senate call’d himself a goose?

The admiring Commons, from the high-born youth,

With wonder heard this undisputed truth;

Exulting Glasgow claim’d him for her own,

And plac’d the prodigy on Learning’s throne.

He then alludes to the magnificent present abovementioned, and concludes in that happy vein of alliterative excellence, for which he is so justly admired—

With gorgeous gifts from gen’rous GRAHAM grac’d,

Great Glasgow grows the granary of taste.

Our readers will doubtless recollect, that this is not the first tribute of applause paid to the distinguished merit of the public-spirited young Nobleman in question. In the first edition of the poem, his character was drawn at length, the many services he has rendered his country were enumerated, and we have lately been assured by our worthy friend and correspondent, Mr. Malcolm M’Gregor, the ingenious author of the Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers, and other valuable poems, that the following spirited verses, recording the ever-memorable circumstance of his Lordship’s having procured for the inhabitants of the Northern extremity of our Island, the inestimable privilege of exempting their posteriors from those ignominious symbols of slavery, vulgarly denominated breeches, are actually universally repeated with enthusiasm, throughout every part of the highlands of Scotland—

Thee, GRAHAM! thee, the frozen Chieftains bless,

Who feel thy bounties through their fav’rite dress;

By thee they view their rescued country clad

In the bleak honours of their long-lost plaid;

Thy patriot zeal has bar’d their parts behind

To the keen whistlings of the wintry wind;

While Lairds the dirk, while lasses bag-pipes prize,

And oat-meal cake the want of bread supplies;

The scurvy skin, while scaly scabs enrich,

While contact gives, and brimstone cures the itch,

Each breeze that blows upon those brawny parts,

Shall wake thy lov’d remembrance in their hearts;

And while they freshen from the Northern blast,

So long thy honour, name, and praise shall last.

We need not call to the recollection of the classical reader,

Dum juga montis aper, sluvios dum piscis amabit,

Semper honos, nomenque tuum laudesque manebunt.

And the reader of taste will not hesitate to pronounce, that the copy has much improved upon, and very far surpassed the original. In these lines we also find the most striking instances of the beauties of alliteration; and however some fastidious critics have affected to undervalue this excellence, it is no small triumph to those of a contrary sentiment to find, that next to our own incomparable author, the most exalted genius of the present age, has not disdained to borrow the assistance of this ornament, in many passages of the beautiful dramatic treasure with which he has recently enriched the stage. Is it necessary for us to add, that it is the new tragedy of the Carmelite to which we allude?—A tragedy the beauties of which, we will venture confidently to assert, will be admired and felt, when those of Shakespeare, Dryden, Otway, Southerne, and Rowe, shall be no longer held in estimation. As examples of alliterative beauty, we shall select the following:—

The hand of heav’n hangs o’er me and my house,

To their untimely graves seven sons swept off.

Again—

So much for tears—tho’ twenty years they flow,

They wear no channels in a widow’s cheek.

The alternate alliteration of the second line, in this instance, seems an improvement upon the art, to the whole merit of which Mr. Cumberland is himself unquestionably entitled.

Afterwards we read,

———Treasures hoarded up,

With carking care, and a long life of thrift.

In addition to the alliterative merit, we cannot here fail to admire the judiciously selected epithet of “carking;” and the two lines immediately following, although no example of that merit, should not be omitted:

Now, without interest, or redemption swallow’d,

By the devouring bankrupt waves for ever.

How striking is the comparison of the ocean, to a bankrupt swallowing without interest or redemption, the property of his unfortunate creditors! Where shall we find a simile of equal beauty, unless some may possibly judge the following to be so, which is to be found in another part of the same sublime work, of two persons weeping—

———We will sit

Like fountain statues, face to face oppos’d,

And each to other tell our griefs in tears,

Yet neither utter word———

Our readers, we trust, will pardon our having been diverted from the task we have undertaken, by the satisfaction of dwelling on a few of the many beauties of this justly popular and universally admired tragedy, which, in our humble opinion, infinitely surpasses every other theatrical composition, being in truth an assemblage of every possible dramatic excellence: nor do we believe, that any production, whether of antient or modern date, can exhibit a more uncommon and peculiar selection of language, a greater variety of surprising incidents, a more rapid succession of extraordinary discoveries, a more curious collection of descriptions, similies, metaphors, images, storms, shipwrecks, challenges, and visions, or a more miscellaneous and striking picture of the contending passions of love; hatred, piety, madness, rage, jealousy, remorse, and hunger, than this unparalleled performance presents to the admiration of the enraptured spectator. Mr. Cumberland has been represented, perhaps unjustly, as particularly jealous of the fame of his cotemporaries, but we are persuaded he will not be offended when, in the ranks of modern writers, we place him second only to the inimitable author of the ROLLIAD.

To return from the digression into which a subject so seducing has involuntarily betrayed us. The reader will recollect, that in our last we left MERLIN gratifying the curiosity of ROLLO, with a view of that Assembly of which his Descendant is one day destined to become so conspicuous an ornament. After having given the due preference to the India-Bench, he proceeds to point out to him others of the most distinguished supporters of the present virtuous administration. Having already mentioned the most confidential friends of the minister, he now introduces us to the acquaintance of an active young Member, who has upon all occasions been pointedly severe upon the noble Lord in the blue ribbon, and who is remarkable for never having delivered his sentiments upon any subject, whether relating to the East-Indies, the Reform of Parliament, or the Westminster Election, without a copious dissertation upon the principles, causes, and conduct of the American war.

Lo! BEAYFOY rises, friend to soft repose;

Whose gentle accents prompt the house to dose:

His cadence just, a general sleep provokes,

Almost as quickly as SIR RICHARD’s jokes.

Thy slumbers, NORTH, he strives in vain to break,

When all are sleeping, thou would’st scarce awake;

Though from his lips severe invectives fell,

Sharp as the acid he delights to sell.

In explanation of the last line, it may be, perhaps, necessary to apprise our readers, that this accomplished orator, although the elegance of his diction, and smoothness of his manner, partake rather of the properties of oil, is in his commercial capacity, a dealer in vinegar. The speaker alluded to, under the name of Sir Richard, is probably the same whom our author, upon the former occasion, stiled—

Sleep-giving poet of a sleepless night.

The limits of our plan will not allow us to enlarge upon the various beauties with which this part of the work abounds; we cannot, however, omit the pathetic description of the SPEAKER’s situation, nor the admirable comparison of Lord MAHON preying on his patience, to the vulture devouring the liver of Prometheus. The necessity of the Speaker’s continuing in the chair while the House sits, naturally reminds our author of his favourite Virgil:

———sedet æternumque sedebit

Infelix Theseus.

There CORNEWELL sits, and, oh unhappy fate!

Must sit for ever through the long debate;

Save, when compell’d by Nature’s sovereign will,

Sometimes to empty, and sometimes to fill.

Painful pre-eminence! he hears, ’tis true,

FOX, NORTH, and BURKE, but hears SIR JOSEPH too.

Then follows the simile—

Like sad PROMETHEUS, fasten’d to his rock,

In vain he looks for pity to the clock;

In vain the’ effects of strengthening porter tries,

And nods to BELLAMY for fresh supplies;

While vulture-like, the dire MAHON appears,

And, far more savage, rends his suff’ring ears.

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