Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCLXXVI | Page 4

so often rendered you: think how often, when you were about to enter upon the stupendous folio, or the dull and massy quarto, four inches at least in thickness, think, O think, how often my timely, though unpromising appearance, has warned you not to encumber your brain with the incalculable load of lumber! With me, then, let the glorious work of reformation commence, restore me to the honour and esteem I so justly deserve. I, for my part, shall still continue to be a spy upon stupidity, and oft shall you receive the reward of your benevolence from my friendly and seasonable admonitions."
"Hezekiah Shortcut, O tempora! O mores!"
The poem is in two cantos: the first of which thus opens,--
Long have I viewed the folly and the sin That fill this wicked globe of ours, call'd earth, And once a secret impulse felt within My bosom, to convert it into mirth; But then the voice of pity, softly sighing, Hinted the subject was more fit for crying.
Democritus was once a Grecian sage-- A famous man, as every one must know-- But rather fond of sneering at the age, And turning into laughter human wo; Another sage, Heraclitus to wit, Considered it more wise to weep for it. I can't determine which of them was right, Nor can I their respective merits see; The subject, disputation may invite, But that belongs to wiser men than me. It has already been discuss'd by one, A better judge by far (see Fenelon.)
Verse the twelfth touches upon a topic with which its writer was destined afterwards, for a short time, to be practically familiar.
How sweet a fee unto the youthful lawyer Never before presented with a brief, To whose distressing case some kind employer Steps in, and brings his generous relief; Thus giving him a chance to show that merit So long kept down by the world's envious spirit.
Here is the little practical moralist's advice to the ladies!--
Ye ladies, list! and to my words attend, They're for your good, as you shall quickly see. Sit down by the fireside, your stockings mend, And never mingle spirits with your tea. When you retire at night, put out the candle, Discard your lap-dogs, leave off talking scandal.
When card-tables are set, you must not play For ought beyond the value of one shilling: This is my firm decree, although you may, As ladies mostly are, be very willing. I bid you cease, for into debt 't will run ye, Do you no good, but spend your husband's money.
Husbands are fools who let their wives do so,-- I scarce can pity when I see them ruin'd. For when they squander all, they ought to know, Destruction is a consequence pursuant. When each has turn'd his home into a sad-house, He then finds out that he deserves a mad-house.
I do denounce, in all the songs you sing, The words, sweet, lovely, dear angelic charmer, Flames, darts, sighs, wishes, hopes,--they only bring Thoughts to a lady which perchance may harm her. You therefore must consider as ironic Every expression which is not Platonic.
The whole poem is written in a droll, satirical strain, and shows a great familiarity with the topics of ancient and modern literature. The rest of the volume consists of translations from Anacreon, Horace, and other Greek and Latin poets, and many original pieces; one of which latter, entitled "The Prodigal Son," thus gravely and impressively opens,--
Far from his kindred, from his country's soil, By want enfeebled, and oppress'd by toil, Compelled with slow reluctance to demand The niggard pity of a stranger's hand, And forced, in silent anguish, to abide The sneer of malice, the rebuke of pride: A wretch opprest by sorrow's galling weight, Deplored his ruined peace, his hapless fate. His was such anguish as the guilty know, For self-reproach was mingled with his wo. He dared not fortune's cruelty bemoan-- The error, the offence, was all his own.
There are also scattered over the volume several epigrams, one of which is headed thus: "On a Lady who married her Brother-in-law."
After so many tedious winters past, The lovely S---- has caught a swain at last-- A swain who twice has tried the marriage life, And now resolves again to take a wife. Behold! behold the new-made mother runs, With ardour to embrace--her nephew-sons!
The second volume commences with a poem of considerable length, entitled, "Salamis," with a notice that "The foregoing poem was presented to his father, by John William Smith, January 23d, 1821, the day on which he completed his twelfth year." The following is "The Argument of Canto I:--
"Themistocles lying awake in the night, is surprised by the entrance of Aristides, who informs him that the Persian fleet had completely surrounded them. Themistocles tells him that this was effected by a device of his own, to