414 FINE ARTS. 



The selection of works by living British artists does honour to the 

 taste and patriotism of the munificent collector. There are three by 

 Wilkie, Roberts, and Fraser, which alone would stamp a high character 

 on any British collection. In an exhibition of modern art, by a provincial 

 Institution, they would draw crowds of visitors, and contribute greatly to 

 overcome anti-modern prejudice. This would redound so much to the 

 honour of the British school, and accord so well with the public spirit 

 of this liberal patron of native genius, that I cannot help cherishing a 

 sanguine hope on this point, although I do not venture to give it utter- 

 ance. There are, also, some capital specimens by Reynolds, Gains- 

 borough, North cote, and other deceased British artists in the chambers. 

 I hope the splendid example, at the conclusion of the rhymes, will not 

 be wholly lost on some of those, who possess the means of following so 

 laudable a pattern. 



THE LESSON— A RHAPSODY, 



BY WILLIAM CAREY, 



Composed after a ramble in the country, with alterations and additions. 



Reader, think this a sally of invention, 

 Or rhapsody of laudable intention ; 

 In homely metre, fashion'd to the season, 

 And rhymes, in humble fellowship with reason ; 

 In which some truth and fiction mix together, 

 Like cloud and sunshine in unsettl'd weather.— 

 iBut let the Muse proceed, without explaining. 

 And, in the end, you cannot miss her meaning. 



The persons and the place I mystify. 

 Lest some misjudging Cynic raise a cry, 

 *' Oh, ho ! this servile drudge is paid to write ; 

 And well he plays the fawning parasite ; 

 Corruption is the all-subduing vice ; 

 The poet and the patriot have their price. 

 Iron may fetter ;— but a stronger hold 

 Confines the willing slave in links of gold." 



Truth may be calm — and brief is my reply—. 

 The imputation, justly, I deny. 

 Applausive verse, to no one name assigned, 

 Like fragrant odours wafted by the wind, 

 Or largess cast amid the scrambling crowd. 

 Belongs to none, though trumpeted aloud.—. 

 No friend of candour will my motive blame, 

 I hold the example up— but not his name. 

 Would any greedy Sycophant for pay. 

 By such omission, do his claim away ? 

 Would any vain Mock-Patron, in his pride, 

 Be, by a disappointment, gratified ? 

 Or, inconsistently, his gold dispense. 

 For an omission, felt as an offence ?— 



Think not my Muse would stoop to flatter Vice ; 

 Or, for her just applause, accept a price ; 

 Or, like a Minion, prostitute her lays, 

 In pompous Vanity and Folly's praise : 

 Do not, the sweetest of her pleasures, wrong j 

 To honour worth, the glory of her song ; 



