Her sons thus joined in a triplicity; To Cardan and to Guido much is due, And in one Lilly we behold the two. These lines allude to Jerome Cardan, the Astrologer (1501-1576), to William Lilly, also an Astrologer (16021681), and to Ubaldo Guido, an Italian Mathematician (1540-1601). Dryden was a firm believer in astrology, and as he must, in all probability, have been well acquainted with this book, it is probable these lines were in his mind when he composed his own more polished epigram.

On page 233, Vol. 2, of this Collection, a number of parodies of the Epigram will be found, but the following imitations were accidentally omitted.

ON HYPATIA, MADAME AGNESI, AND MRS. SOMERVILLE.
"THREE Women, in three different ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn;
Rare as poetic minds of master flights,
Three only rose to science' loftiest heights.
The first a brutal crowd in pieces tore,
Envious of fame, bewildered at her lore;

The next through tints of darkening shadow passed,
Lost in the azure sisterhood at last;
Equal to these the third, and happier far,
Cheerful though wise, though learned, popular,
Liked by the many, valued by the few,

Hy

Instructs the world, yet dubbed by none a Blue." There is a little confusion in these lines, both Madame Agnesi and Mrs. Somerville were born in the same age if by that century is meant, and although Hypatia talked Greek she was an Egyptian, whilst Mrs. Somerville was not English at all, having been born in Scotland. patia, a female philosopher in Alexandria, was brutally murdered by an ignorant mob; Madame Agnesi, an Italian lady of great scientific attainments, died a Blue Nun in a convent at Milan in 1799. Mrs. Mary Somerville wrote several scientific books, of which perhaps the best known was" The Connection of the Physical Sciences." THREE Richards lived in Brunswick's glorious reign, In Westminster the first (a), the next in Warwick Lane (6), In Dumbleton the third (c), each doughty knight,

In spite of nature, was resolved to write.

The first in penury of thought surpassed,
The next in rambling cant; in both the last.
The force of dulness could no further go,

To make the third she joined the former two.

By Dr. James Drake, then an Undergrad of St. John's College, Cambridge, printed in Anonymiana, 1809.

Biographies of John Dryden are so numerous and accessible that it is unnecessary here to discuss the weak points of his character. To use the mildest language possible, he was a time-server, a turncoat, and a court sycophant. He had written in praise of Oliver Cromwell, he wrote equally laudatory verses on Charles II., he had strongly defended the Protestant religion, yet within a twelvemonth of the accession of the Catholic James II. the following entry appeared in Evelyn's Diary, January 19, 1686: "Dryden, the famous play writer, and his two sons, and Mrs. Nelly (Miss to the late King) were said to go to mass; such proselytes were no great loss to the Church." His conversion brought him Court patronage, and in April 1687 he published a defence of his new religion in verse, entitled "The

Hind and the Panther." This was a long allegorical poem in which the Hind represented the Catholic Church, and the Panther the Protestant Church of England. It gave rise to much controversy, and many burlesques were written upon it, ridiculing the work, and the character of its author. The most famous of these parodies was one of exquisite humour, the joint production of Charles Montague (the future Earl of Halifax) and Matthew Prior. This was called "The Hind and the Panther Transversed to the story of the Country Mouse and the City Mouse." The principal characters in the famous farce The Rehearsal, Bayes, Smith, and Johnson, were revived in this witty production, which is unfortunately much too long to reprint. Dryden's poem commences:

A MILK white Hind, immortal and unchanged,
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged;
Without, unspotted, innocent within,

She feared no danger, for she knew no sin.

Yet had she oft been chased with horns and hounds,
And Scythian shafts, and many winged wounds
Aimed at her heart; was often forced to fly,

And doomed to death, though fated not to die.

The first lines of the parody are:

A MILK-white Mouse immortal and unchanged,
Fed on soft cheese, and o'er the Dairy ranged;
Without, unspotted; innocent within,

She feared no Danger, for she knew no gin.
Yet had she oft been scor'd by bloody claws
Of winged owls, and stern Grimalkin's Paws
Aim'd at her destin'd Head, which made her fly,
Tho' she was doomed to death, and fated not to die

ALEXANDER POPE.

BORN May 21, 1688. | DIED May 30, 1744.

DRYDEN'S Odes for St. Cecilias's Day have already been mentioned, and in 1708 Pope was also induced, by Richard Steele, to write an ode for the annual festival. This is acknowledged to be the finest poem of its kind that had appeared since Dryden's odes were produced. In fact, as Pope himself said, "Many people would like my ode on music better if Dryden had never written on that subject. It was at the request of Mr. Steele that I wrote mine; and not with any thought of rivalling that great man, whose memory I do, and have always reverenced.

Pope chose the mythological story of Orpheus and Eurydice as the theme for his ode; it is too long to quote in full, but the first verse, and last quatrain, will serve as key notes for the parodies which follow.

ODE FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
DESCEND ye Nine! descend and sing;
The breathing instruments inspire,
Wake into voice each silent string,

And sweep the sounding lyre!

Who, that hath heard poor Charity's appeal

And nobly paid a guinea for a meal

(Where soup and fish

And every new-made dish,

Just verged upon the cold;

Or else the very tough, or very old—

Except the tepid salad, which appear'd

Fresh gather'd from the hot-bed where 'twas rear'd),
Can e'er forget, O Toole! thy coat of blue
With dazzling metal buttons spangled o'er-
The yard of broad black ribbon, whereunto
Appends the eye-glass thro' which thou dost pore
Over the list of toasts, ere thou dost bawl
With such stentorian lungs,

That we opine the walls of old Guildhall
Are each endowed with a thousand tongues-
"Silence!" To hear that Patagonian shout
Is to obey.

The hand that's in the act of pouring out

Is forced to stay

"Non Nobis!!!" The greediest crammer Deserts his plate, roused by thy voice and hammer.

ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

(A long way after Pope.)

DESCEND, great Bunn !-descend and bring
A furnace of poetic fire;

Nib fifty pens, and take your fling,
Boldly of foolscap fill a quire.

In a namby-pamby strain,

Let the tenor first complain;
Let the falsetto sound,
With nasal twang around,
'Till in applause 'tis drown'd.

Then in more ponderous notes and slow,
Let the deep bass go down, extremely low.
Hark the shrill soprano near
Bursts upon the startled ear!

Higher and higher does she rise,

And fills with awful screams the flies,

By straining and shrieking she reaches the notes, Out of tune, out of time too, the wild music floats; Till by degrees the vigorous bawl,

Seems to decay,

And melts away

In a feeble, feeble squall.

In music there's a medium, you know;
Don't sing too high, nor sink too low.
If in a house tumultuous rows arise,
Music to drown the noise the means supplies;
Or when the housemaid, pressed with cares,
To yonder public-house repairs,
Some gallant soldier, fired by music's sound
Will order pints of half-and-half all round.
John the footman nods his head,
Swears he'll not go home to bed;
In his arms a partner takes,

As some courteous speech he makes;
And suddenly the joyous pair engage
In giddy Waltz or Polka, now the rage.

But when the violin puts forth its charms,
How the sweet music every bosom warms:
So when the dilettante dared the squeeze,

To hear of Jenny Lind the opening strain, And in the rush serenely sees

His best coat torn in twain, Transported simpletons stood round, And men grew spooneys at the sound,

Roaring with all their wind;

Each one his power of lung displayed
In bawling to the Swedish Maid
While cheers from box to pit resound

For Lind, for Lind, for Lind!

But when through those mysterious bounds
Where the policeman goes his rounds,
The poet had by chance been led

Mid the coal-hole, festive shed,
What sounds were heard,

What scenes appeared,

How horrible the din!

Toasted cheese

If you please.

Waiter-stop!
Mutton-chop.
Hollo! Jones,

Devilled bones;

And cries for rum or gin!

But hark! the chairman near the fire
Strikes on the table, to require

Strict silence for a song.

Thy tongue, O waiter, now keep still;
Bring neither glass, nor go, nor gill;

The pause will not be long,

The guests are mute as if upon their beds;

Their hair uncurl'd hangs from their listening heads.

By the verses as they flow,

By their meaning nothing though,
Full of tropes and flowers;
By those lofty rhymes that dwell
In the mind of Bunn so well,

Like love in Paphian bowers.
By the lines that he has made,
Working at the poet's trade-
By the marble halls so smart,

By "other lips" and "Woman's heart,"

True poetry at once restore, restore,

Or don't let Bunn, at least, write any more!

But soon, too soon, poor music shuts her eyes;
Again she falls-again she dies, she dies.

How will she now once more attempt to thrive ?
Ah! Jullient comes to keep her still alive.
Now with his British Army
Quadrille, sc bright and balmy,
Ör with four bands meeting,
Two men a large drum beating,

He comes to life-for Jullien all have sung;
The name of Jullien is on every tongue.
The boxes and the pit,

Both they who stand and sit;

With Jullien's name the entire house has rung

Music the greatest brute can charm,
And savage natures will disarm.
Music can find luxurious ease,
Making what bargain it may please.

A salary it can improve

To any sum that it may love.

This the delightful Lind has found,
And to the tune of fifteen thousand pound.
When the full house enjoys the Swedish bird,
E'en Fashion deigns to lend its ear,

So eager 't is to catch each little word,
That were a pin to drop it must be heard;

And people come from far as well as near!

Of Orpheus now no more let poets tell,

For Jenny Lind may boast with greater reason: His numbers he for gold could never sellShe makes her fortune in a season!

From George Cruikshank's Comic Almanack for 1848.

-:0:

humorous

IN 1749 Bonnell Thornton published a burlesque upon the Cecilian odes, under the title of "An Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, adapted to the Ancient British Musick," which is said to have been set to music with characteristic accompaniments by Dr. Arne, and performed on the Saint's day, November 22, 1749. This appears somewhat doubtful, it was however set to music in 1759 by Dr. Burney, who has left the following account of his work and its performance: "In 1759 I set for Smart and Newbery, Thornton's Burlesque Ode on St. Cecilia's Day. It was performed at Ranelagh in masks, to a very crowded audience, as I was told, for I then resided in Norfolk. Beard sang the Salt-box song, which was admirably accompanied on that instrument by Brent, the fencing master, and father of Miss Brent, the celebrated singer; Skeggs on the broomstick as bassoon, and a remarkable performer on the Jew's Harp, Buzzing twangs the iron lyre.' Cleavers were cast in bell metal for this entertainment. All the performers of the Old Woman's oratory, employed by Foote, were, I believe, employed at Ranelagh on this occasion."

Boswell mentions that Dr. Johnson was much diverted with the humour of this ode.

AN ODE ON

SAINT CECILIA'S DAY.

Adapted to the Antient British Musick: viz. The SaltBox, the Jew's Harp, the Marrow-Bones and Cleavers, the Hum-Strum or Hurdy Gurdy, etc.

With an introduction, giving some account of these truly British Instruments.

By BONNELL THORNTON, Esquire.

The Preface, which is too long to quote in full, concludes with the following remarks. "If this Ode contributes in the least to lessen our false taste in admiring that foreign Musick now so much in vogue, and to recall the ancient British spirit, together with the ancient British harmony, I shall not think the pains I employed on the composition entirely flung away on my countrymen. This Ode, I am sensible, is not without faults; though I cannot

MOCK HEROIC POEMS.

Numerous imitations exist of Pope's Dunciad, and the poets of the last century, and the early years of this, exercised considerable ingenuity in ringing the changes on the title, as will be seen from the following list. It must not, however, be concluded that the works mentioned are all parodies, except in the cases where the opening lines are quoted. One of the most scholarly of these productions was "The Scribleriad," written by Richard Owen Cambridge, and published in 1751. In his preface he mentions Boileau's Lutrin, Garth's Dispensary, and Pope's Rape of the Lock and Dunciad, each of which, he considers, have a thousand beauties, but neither of which comes up to the true idea of a Mock-Heroic Poem. In fact he does not believe it was the primary idea of either of the authors to write a MockHeroic, whereas that was the task he set

himself in composing The Scribleriad. He gives the following apposite remarks on Parody

"The Athenians were so fond of Parody, that they eagerly applauded it, without examining with what propriety or connection it was introduced. Aristophanes showed no sort of regard to either, in his ridicule of Euripides; but brings in the characters as well as verses of his tragedies, in many of his plays, though they have no connection with the plot of the play, nor any relation to the scene in which they are introduced. This love of Parody is accounted for by an excellent French critic, from a certain malignity in mankind, which prompts them to laugh at what they most esteem, thinking they, in some measure, repay themselves for that involuntary tribute which is exacted from them by merit."

The Baviad, a paraphrastic imitation of the First satire of Persius, by William Gifford. London, 1794. This was written to ridicule a certain clique of self-admirationists kuown as the "Della-Cruscan school," and was very effectual in its object. It was followed by The Maeviad, by the same author, which completed the work The Baviad had commenced, and the spurious poetry of the DellaCruscan school was laughed out of existence. The footnotes to these satires are delicious reading, as Gifford has selected the most amusing examples of bathos, and inflated nonsense, from the poems of Anna Matilda, Merry, Parsons, Jerningham, Bell, Mrs. Robinson, and DellaCrusca, to illustrate his points.

The Beeriad, or Progress of Drink. An Heroic Poem, in Two Cantcs, the first being an imitation of The Dunciad, the second a description of a Ram Feast, held annually in a particular small district of Hampshire. By a Gentleman in the Navy. Gosport. J. Philpot. 1736.

The first canto of this poem is printed side by side with a reprint of the first book of Pope's Dunciad.

The Beeriad commences thus:

BEER and the men (a mighty theme!) I sing,
Who to their mouths the brimming Pitcher bring.
Say Sons of midnight! (since yourselves inspire,
This drunken Work; so Jove and Drink require !)
Say from what cause, in vain unquench'd the Thirst,
Still reigns to-day as potent as at first.

In eldest time ere mortals were so dry,
E'er Bacchus issued from the Thund'rer's Thigh,
Strong Drink o'er some possess'd its native right,-
Lord of delusion, Sov'raign of the Night.

The Billiad, or how to criticise, a satire, with the Dirge of the Repeal (of the Irish Union) and other Jeux d'Esprit. By T. M. Hughes. Illustrated. 1846.

The Blueviad, a Satirical Poem, by E. Goulburn, Royal Horse Guards. London, 1805.

The author remarks, "The following ridiculous lines contain the description of some characters that once formed a Regiment of Volunteers.

The Burniad; an Epistle to a Lady, in the manner of Burns, with Poetic Miscellanies, by J. H. Kenny.

1808.

The Consuliad. A Mock Heroic Poem, by Thomas Chatterton. This short poem is to be found amongst the works of the poor Bristol boy, he sold it to a Mr. Fell for ten shillings and sixpence at the time when he was slowly starving to death in London. It commenced thus:

OF roaring constables and battles dire,
Of geese uneaten, muse, awake the lyre!
Where Campbell's chimneys overlook the square,

And Newton's future prospects hang in air;
Where counsellors dispute, and cockers match,
And Caledonian earls in concert scratch,—
A group of heroes occupied the round,
Long in the rolls of infamy renown'd.
Circling the table, all in silence sat,

Now tearing bloody lean, now champing fat;
Now picking ortolans and chickens, slain
To form the whimsies of an à la reine:
Now storming castles of the newest taste,
And granting articles to forts of paste;

Now swallowing bitter draughts of Prussian beer;
Now sucking tallow of salubrious deer.
The god of Cabinets and senates saw
His sons, like asses, to one centre draw.

*

There are passages in this satire of surprising power and originality for the work of a boy of seventeen years of age.

The Censoriad, a Poem, written originally by Martin Gulliver, illustrated with curious annotations. 1730.

The Chessiad, by C. Dibden the Younger. With other poems, by the same author, 1825.

The Christiad, a sacred heroic poem, translated by Cranwell from Vida. No date.

The Dapiad, a mock-heroic poem, by J. Randall. staple printed by J. Avery, 1806.

Barn

The Diaboliad, a Poem dedicated to the Worst Man in His Majesty's Dominions. London. G. Kearsley, 1677. The date given is evidently a misprint for 1777, as David Garrick, who is named in the Preface, was not born until 1716. This work has been ascribed to Combe. Anti-Diabo-Lady. Respectfully dedicated to all the Women in Her Majesty's Dominions in general; and to the Best of Them in Particular, calculated to expose the Malevolence of the Author of Diabo-Lady. London, 1777. Quarto 18 pp. (A satire in verse.)

The Dispensary. A poem in six Cantos, by Sir Samuel Garth. London, 1696.

The Druriad, or Strictures on the principal performers of Drury Lane Theatre. A Satirical Poem. Quarto. 1798.

"Homer

The Electriad: A Tale of the Trojan War. down to Date," by a G. O. M. London. The Pall Mall Electric Association. About 1885. Price sixpence. This anonymous advertising pamphlet was illustrated with portraits of the most eminent men of the day, represented as suffering from various ailments, and

Within his tent Achilles sat and swore ;
With pain the hero's face was sicklied o'er,
Gout in his feet, neuralgia in his jaws,
Too weak, alas, to fight for Grecian cause;
Bronchitis, rheumatism, lungs and liver,
Hurried him fast towards the Stygian river.

*

The Fijiad, or English Nights Entertainments, by an author of The Siliad. Beeton's Fifteenth Christmas Annual. Illustrated. London: Ward, Lock, and Tyler.

The Fribbleriad. This was first printed in 1761, and was afterwards included in The Repository, vol 2. It was addressed to a certain individual "X. Y. Z.," who had been guilty of publishing an Essay containing an unfavourable criticism of David Garrick.

WHO is the scribbler X. Y. Z.?

Who still writes on, though little read?
Whose falsehood, malice, envy, spite,