You give the Novels a fair wipe;

But still,

While you, my friend, with passion run ’em down,

They’re in the hands of all the town.

“The reason’s plain,” proceeded Dick,

“And simply thus—

Taste, over-glutted, grows deprave’d, and sick,

And needs a stimulus.

“Time was,—(when honest Fielding writ)—

Tales full of Nature, Character, and Wit,