Our readers may possibly think, that verses enough have been already devoted to the celebration of Mr. ROLLE; the Poet, however, is not of the same opinion. To crown the whole, he now proceeds to commemorate the column which is shortly to be erected on the spot, where the Member for Devonshire formerly went to School, application having been made to Parliament for leave to remove the school from its present situation; and a motion being intended to follow, for appropriating a sum of money to mark the scene and record the fact of Mr. ROLLE’s education, for the satisfaction of posterity, who might otherwise have been left in a state of uncertainty, whether this great man had any education at all.
MERLIN first shews ROLLO the school. The transition to this object from the present House of Commons is easy and obvious. Indeed, the striking similarity between the two visions is observed by ROLLO in the following passage:
The Hero sees, thick-swarming round the place,
In bloom of early youth, a busy race;
Propria quæ maribus, with barbarous sound,
Syntax and prosody his ear confound,
“And say (he cries), Interpreter of fate,
Oh! say, is this some jargon of debate?
What means the din, and what the scene? proclaim;
Is this another vision, or the same?
For trust me, Prophet, to my ears, my eyes,
A second House of Commons seems to rise.”
MERLIN however rectifies the mistake of the good Duke: and points out to him his great descendant, in the shape of a lubberly boy, as remarkably mute on this occasion, as we lately found him in the House,
More fierce than all, more turbulent, more loud.
The flaggellation of Mr. ROLLE succeeds, which, as MERLIN informs
ROLLO, is his daily discipline. The sight of the rod, which the
Pædagogue flourishes with a degree of savage triumph over the exposed,
and bleeding youth, awakens all the feelings of the ancestor:
Stay, monster, stay! he cries in hasty mood,
Throw that dire weapon down—behold my blood!
We quote this couplet the rather, because it proves our author to be as good a Critic as a Poet. For the last line is undoubtedly a new reading of Virgil’s,
Projice tela manu,—Sanguis meus!
And how much more spirited is this interpretation,