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,