Scribbleomania :: :: University of Virginia Library

Unheard of before, as from clouds straight descended,
A Scot appears, teeming with verse strangely blended;
Whose maxim is that of all common scribes trite,
Whether sterling or not, still the Muse needs must write;

For whether it prove of a Minstrel last Lay,
Which bears of his flights much poetic array,
Or the Lady bewitching of Lake crystal clear,
Where still most unequal is made to appear;
That sloven performance, the which I must sigh on,
Renown'd Field of Flodden, and fighting Mar-mi-on:
Or Roderick's dream, surely penn'd in derision,
Since Muses were drunk when composing Don's Vision;
And lastly of Rokeby, the quick lash'd-up lore,
Replete with the faults of those themes trac'd before.
Now although viva voce, the public en masse
Hath affirm'd that these Lays other efforts surpass,
And that while love of rhymes shall exist, envied lot
Of wearing the bays must belong to a Scot;
Still I dare this slap-bang assertion dispute,
For though thus oppos'd, I will never be mute.
I stand unappall'd, tho' by numbers surrounded;
Calm reason was never by legions confounded:

My bulwark is sense, on that fort I rely,
And a stronger exists not between you and I:

So I'll e'en tell the bard who with rhyming's thus bitten,
Had one theme been trac'd while the five thus were written,

And the beauties dispers'd throughout all grac'd that One,
In the hemisphere Scot then had blaz'd a bright sun;

For to state that no talent appears in our Walter
Wou'd prove me from truth a most shameful defaulter.
Stark mad with unqualified praise of the world,
He thinks that his name on a title unfurl'd,
Be the theme what it may, must enamour the town;
Since the rhymes of a Scot cannot fail to go down.
Ah! fatal delusion, that hoodwinks thy sense,
Arouse from such stupor and apathy dense;
Straight marshal thy talents, call wisdom to aid thee,
Nor suffer the thinking for sloth to upbraid thee:

The pathway is wide, true renown may be thine,
Forget Flatt'ry's tale, rest no longer supine;
Since study may guide thee to Parnassus' top,
While reverse dooms thy labours to cheesemonger's shop.

So numerous and in such quick succession have appeared the flights of Mr. Scott, that to enter into a separate review of each poem would swell my notes into so many chapters : a step not only incompatible with the limits of this production, but rendered of little utility, after the concise strictures as delivered above by Sir Scribblecumdash. If the Greek adage was correct, which goes to state that

θελω τυχης σαλαγμον, η φρενων πιδον, Give a man good luck, and throw him into the sea,

then, indeed, had our poet long ago found a watery grave: but when we call to mind that the love of money begetteth more, it may not appear wonderful if he

Declinat cursus aurumque volubile tollit,
—Greedy of the shining fruit, steps back To catch the rolling gold.—

An occupation, by the by, in which poets of the present æra are but very seldom engaged. Throughout Mr. Scott's productions there is nothing so striking as the inequalities observable both in his style and versification. In one poem the name of Marmion is incessantly made a tag at the end of the line; while the words enlisted to form a jingle are strained and unpoetical in the extreme: witness

“‘Charge, Chester, charge!—on, Stanley, on!’—
Were the last words of Mar-mi-on.”

In reply to which, one might well exclaim—

Charge, Mazard, charge!—Quack on, quack on!
O! that such lays he ne'er had quack'd upon!

In Mudford's Life of Cumberland is introduced a long note, upon the subject of our northern leviathan and the late Miss Seward, to the which I refer the public for a specimen of just criticism, as to the literary pretensions of this once metrical and corresponding duetto, whose diffidence and modesty are there blazoned forth to the meanest capacity. As Mr. Scott's walk has not been confined to the mazes of fancy alone, I should like to be made acquainted whether or not, upon the proposal being made to that gentleman of editing the works of the renowned Dryden, two prizes were not tendered by him; viz. remuneration for the toils of the man of literature, or payment for a bookseller's job? the latter of which was grasped at by the publishers, as being the cheapest: in which case the noblest flights of a British poet were subjected to the mere editorship of tare and tret. With regard to the followers of Walter Scott, Miss Holford was particularly bitten with a mania for imitating his style, and has produced a poem entitled Wallace, or the Fight of Falkirk, wherein are to be found many traits of exuberant genius. It is, therefore, only a matter of regret that the literary friends of this lady did not interpose so far as to prevent her from adopting the versification of another; for there is little doubt but, in giving rein to her own natural talent, the production would have borne the stamp of originality, and in all probability obviated the necessity for any stricture on the score of subserviency in style or composition. If we contemplate the volume in question with a publisher's eye, it must certainly rank a complete bookseller's bargain; for, upon averaging the pages, there will be found about twelve lines in each; which, considering the price of the work being only one pound five, is a very decent curtailment of matter to the purchaser.

Should Mr. Scott ever chance to skim over the present volume, he may perhaps feel little pleased in perusing the last note; which was not, however, intended as the vehicle of pique or ill nature: the bard under review being only known to the annotator through the medium of his several poetic productions. Mr. Scott's abilities as a classical scholar cannot be denied; and it is therefore the more astonishing that his judgment should have been warped from those standard principles of literature which have stood the test of ages, and will continue to exist when the new-fangled ephemeræ of fashion shall be no more. It remained with a Chatterton, whose object was deception, to enlist the phraseology of the 13th century: but what reason could possibly prompt this gentleman to produce such a pyebald style of composition? If, indeed, notoriety and pecuniary benefit were the incitements, Mr. Scott has fully answered his purpose; but I very much doubt whether the fame of his lucubrations will outstretch the boundary of his own mortal career. I shall now terminate my note by stating, in strict unison with Sir Noodle's opinion, that Mr. Scott is capable of producing that which he has never yet thought fit to achieve: Munus Apolline dignum: in expectation of which I dismiss our northern aspirer to the envied honours of Parnassus.