184 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



welcomed by the literary society of the town as the " glorious Odon- 

 tist" of JBlackwoocVs Magazine, and received a complimentary din- 

 ner, which he accepted in entire good faith, replying to the toast of 

 the evening with all the formality that became the occasion. 



But the spirit of fun and mischief that prompted these outrageous 

 jokes did not confine itself to practising them on the outer world. 

 The overflowing satire of the inventors was turned by them even 

 upon one another. In a very clever but rather tedious composition 

 of Lockhart's, called the "Mad Banker of Amsterdam," he pokes 

 his fun at his friends all round. There was a society in Edinburgh 

 called the " Dilettanti" club, of which Wilson was President. They 

 came in for a sketch, and he begins with his friend the President : — 



" They're pleased to call themselves The Dilettanti, 

 The President's the first I chanced to show 'em ; 



He writes more malagrugrously than Dante, 

 The City of the Plague 's a shocking poem; 



But yet he is a spirit light and jaunty, 



And jocular enough to those who know him ; 



To tell the truth, I think John Wilson shines 



More o'er a bowl of punch than in his lines." 



It is said that my father chanced to see the proof-sheet by acci- 

 dent before it went to press, and instantly dashed in immediately 

 after the above stanza, not a little to the chagrin of the author, the 

 following impromptu lines : — 



" Then touched I off friend Lockhart (Gibson John), 

 So fond of jabbering about Tieck and Schlegel, 



Klopstock and Wieland, Kant and Mendelssohn, 

 All high Dutch quacks like Spurzheim or Feinagle ; 



Him the Chaldee yclept the Scorpion ; 



The claws but not the pinions of the eagle 



Are Jack's ; but though I do not mean to flatter, 



Undoubtedly he has strong powers of satire." 



The troubles in which the publisher and supporters of the Maga- 

 zine became involved commenced, as has been seen, with its very 

 first number under the new regime. The assaults on Coleridge 



" Join all in chorus, jolly boys, and let punch and tears be shed, 

 For this prince of good old fellows that, alack-a-day, is dead ! 

 For this priuce of worthy fellows, and a pretty man also, 

 That has left the Saltmarket in sorrow, grief, and woe! 

 For it ne'er shall see the like of Captain Paton no mol" 



For a complete copy of this lyric see Blackwood, vol v., p. 735. 



