NUMBER VII.
It now only remains for us to perform the last melancholy office to the dying drummer, and to do what little justice we can to the very ingenious and striking manner in which our author closes at once his prophecy and his life.
It is a trite observation, that the curious seldom hear any good of themselves; and all epic poets, who have sent their heroes to conjurors, have, with excellent morality, taught us, that they who pry into futurity, too often anticipate affliction.—VIRGIL plainly intimates this lesson in the caution which he puts into the mouth of ANCHISES, when ÆNEAS enquires into the future destiny of the younger MARCELLUS, whose premature death forms the pathetic subject of the concluding vision in the sixth book of the ÆNEID:
“O nate, ingentum lectum ne quære tuorum.”
“Seek not to know (the ghost replied with tears)
The sorrows of thy sons in future years.”
DRYDEN.
Then, instead of declining any further answer, he very unnecessarily proceeds to make his son as miserable as he can, by detailing all the circumstances best calculated to create the most tender interest.—The revelation of disagreeable events to come, is by our poet more naturally put into the mouth of an enemy.—After running over many more noble names than the records of the herald’s office afford us any assistance in tracing, the second sighted Saxon, in the midst of his dying convulsions, suddenly bursts into a violent explosion of laughter.—This, of course, excites the curiosity of ROLLO, as it probably will that of our readers; upon which the drummer insults his conqueror with rather a long but very lively recital of all the numerous disappointments and mortifications with which he foresees that the destinies will affect the virtues of ROLLO’s great descendant, the present illustrious member for Devonshire. He mentions Mr. ROLLE’s many unsuccessful attempts to obtain the honour of the peerage; alludes to some of the little splenetive escapes into which even his elevated magnanimity is well known to have been for a moment betrayed on those trying occasions. We now see all the drift and artifice of the poet, and why he thought the occasion worthy of making the drummer so preternaturally long winded, in displaying at full all the glories of the house of peers; it was to heighten by contrast the chagrin of ROLLO at finding the doors of this august assembly for ever barred against his posterity.
To understand the introductory lines of the following passage, it is necessary to inform our readers, if they are not already acquainted with the fact, that somewhere in the back settlements of America, there is now actually existing an illegitimate batch of little ROLLE’s.
Though wide should spread thy spurious race around,
In other worlds, which must not yet be found,
While they with savages in forests roam
Deserted, far from their paternal home;
A mightier savage in thy wilds EX-MOOR,
Their well-born brother shall his fate deplore,
By friends neglected, as by foes abhorr’d,
No duke, no marquis, not a simple lord.
Tho’ thick as MARGARET’s knights with each address,
New peers, on peers, in crouds each other press,
He only finds, of all the friends of PITT,
His luckless head no coronet will fit.
But what our author seems more particularly to have laboured, is a passage which he has lately inserted: it relates to the cruel slight which was shewn to Mr. ROLLE during the late royal progress through the west.—Who is there that remembers the awful period when the regency was in suspence, but must at the same time remember the patriotic, decent, and consistent conduct of Mr. ROLLE? How laudably, in his parliamentary speeches, did he co-operate to the best of his power, with the popular pamphlets of the worthy Dr. WITHERS! How nobly did he display his steady loyalty to the father, while he endeavoured to shake the future right of the son to the throne of his ancestors! How brightly did he manifest his attachment to the person of his MAJESTY, by voting to seclude him in the hour of sickness from the too distressing presence of his royal brothers and his children; and, after all, when he could no longer resist the title of the heir apparent, with what unembarrassed grace did he agree to the address of his constituents, complimenting the prince on his accession to that high charge, to which his SITUATION and VIRTUES so eminently ENTITLED him: yet, even then, with how peculiar a dexterity did Mr. ROLLE mingle what some would have thought an affront, with his praises, directly informing his ROYAL HIGHNESS that he had no confidence whatever in any virtues but those of the minister. But, alas, how uncertain is the reward of all sublunary merit! Those good judges who inquired into the literary labours of the pious and charitable Dr. WITHERS, did not exalt him to that conspicuous post, which he so justly deserved, and would so well have graced; neither did one ray of royal favour cheer the loyalty of Mr. ROLLE during his majesty’s visit to DEVONSHIRE; though with an unexampled liberality, the worthy member had contracted for the fragments of Lord MOUNT EDGECUMBE’s desert, and the ruins of his triumphal arches; had brought down several of the minister’s young friends to personate virgins in white, sing, and strew flowers along the way; and had actually dispatched a chaise and four to Exeter, for his old friend and instructor, mynheer HOPPINGEN VAN CAPERHAGEN, dancing-master and poet; who had promised to prepare both the balets and ballads for this glorious festivity. And for whom was Mr. ROLLE neglected? For his colleague, Mr. BASTARD; a gentleman who, in his political oscillations, has of late vibrated much more frequently to the opposition than to the treasury bench. This most unaccountable preference we are certain must be matter of deep regret to all our readers of sensibility;—to the drummer it is matter of exultation.
In vain with such bold spirit shall he speak,
That furious WITHERS shall to him seem meek;
In vain for party urge his country’s fate;
To save the church, in vain distract the state;
In loyal duty to the father shewn,
Doubt the son’s title to his future throne;
And from the suffering monarch’s couch remove
All care fraternal, and all filial love:
Then when mankind in choral praise unite,
Though blind before, see virtues beaming bright;
Yet feigning to confide, distrust evince,
And while he flatters, dare insult his PRINCE.
Vain claims!—when now, the people’s sins transferred
On their own heads, mad riot is the word;
When through the west in gracious progress goes
The monarch, happy victor of his woes;
While Royal smiles gild every cottage wall,
Hope never comes to ROLLE, that comes to all;
And more with envy to disturb his breast,
BASTARD’s glad roof receives the Royal guest.