sentiment.

Take the following lines on the power of love

by Hill as an example (Hill's "Works," 1753, III. 38):

Oh! forbear to bid me slight her,
Soul and senses take her part;
Could my life itself delight her,

Life should leap to leave my heart.
Strong, though soft, a lover's chain,
Charm'd with woe and pleas'd with pain.

Though the tender flame were dying,
Love would light it at her eyes;

Or, her tuneful voice applying,

Through my ear, my soul surprise.
Deaf, I see the fate I shun,

Blind, I hear I am undone.

The epigrams of Lord Lyttelton and of Horace Walpole deserve particular attention as models of chaste taste. The former never degenerates into coarse satire; the latter, though sometimes satirical, is never common-place. How pregnant is this distich by Lord Lyttelton as an "Inscription for a bust of Lady Suffolk in a wood at Stowe ":

Her wit and beauty for a court were made:
But truth and goodness fit her for a shade.

And how elegant this address of Horace Walpole "To
Madame du Chatelet, when on a visit at Strawberry Hill":
When beauteous Helen left her native air,
Greece for ten years in arms reclaim'd the fair,
Th' enamour'd boy withheld his lovely prize,
And stak'd his country's ruin 'gainst her eyes.
Your charms less baneful, not less strong appear:
We welcome any peace that keeps you here.

Of very different character are the epigrams of Samuel Bishop, head-master of Merchant Taylors' School, who deserves some notice on account of the celebrity which he obtained in his day as an Epigrammatist. He took Martial for his pattern, but avoided his scurrility and coarseness. His epigrams are full of humour, and he often exposes a grievance with good-natured wit. The following, written in Latin as well as English, is a specimen. It is applicable to other times besides those in which it was written (Bishop's "Works," 1796, I. 311):

"Do this," cries one side of S. Stephen's great hall,

'Do just the reverse," the minority bawl:

As each has obtain'd, or desires to obtain,

Or envies the station he wish'd for in vain.

And what is the end of this mighty tongue-war?

—Nothing's done for the State-till the State is done for!

The last line displays a form of epigrammatic wit to which some consideration must be given-play upon words. This is scarcely ever found in the epigrams of the best writers. It came much into vogue in the decadency of the literature, but has always been protested against. In the dissertation prefixed to the Collection of 1735, the author says: "We have already observed that a gay conceit, or a good sentence, will sometimes serve for points: but what else? nothing so properly as what can be truly called wit; no jingle of words, pun, quibble, conundrum, mixed wit, or false wit, ought ever to be used, though they have all very often appeared in this kind of poetry." It is not to be denied that a few ancient examples may be found of wit of this kind, nor that punning epigrams are often amusing and show much pleasant humour. The following is from the Greek of Callicter (Jacobs III. 8, ii). The translation, by Graves, is not literal, but brings out well the character of the Greek distich:

Celsus takes off by dint of skill

Each bodily disaster:

But takes off spoons without a pill;
Your plate without a plaster.

No man of taste would imitate such poor wit with any intention of letting his fame rest upon it. A writer of established reputation may, however, in a joking way, throw off such trifles. Shenstone, for instance, addressed the following to a voluminous poet of Kidderminster :

Thy verses, friend, are Kidderminster stuff,

And I must own you've measur'd out enough.

But what can be thought of the writer who could perpetrate so absurd a distich as this? It is addressed to Father Williams, and is found in Amhurst's "Terræ Filius :"

Thy verses are immortal, O, my friend!

For he who reads them, reads them to no end.

But though, as a rule, all play upon words is to be condemned as false wit, yet epigrams are occasionally found, in which a pun is introduced with so much elegance, that the impropriety is forgotten in the pleasure which the perusal gives. Such instances occur in the Latin writers of medieval and of more modern times, but it is seldom that the wit can be rendered with any success in English. An epigram, by an unknown author, on a clergyman who preached the published sermons of Archdeacon Hare, is a case in point:

Ne lepores vendas alienos: prome leporem
Nativum: melior syllaba longa brevi.

A play upon a person's name is not uncommon among modern writers. An epigram by Henley, on the assistance which Broome gave to Pope in the translation of Homer, is good of its kind :

Pope came off clean with Homer; but they say
Broome went before, and kindly swept the way.

But, perhaps, the most elegant distich of this character is
Lord Erskine's compliment to Lady Payne:

"Tis true I am ill; but I need not complain;

For he never knew pleasure, who never knew Payne.

It is among the professed wits that punning epigrams are chiefly found. Theodore Hook and Thomas Hood have many of them, and though trifling they are humorous. One of the best is by James Smith, A Father to his Daughter, who asked him for money":

66

Dear Bell, to gain money, sure, silence is best,
For dumb Bells are fittest to open the chest.

But all wit of this kind, amusing though it may be for the moment, gives very little lasting pleasure. A fine epigram may be read and read again with ever-increasing satisfaction, but few of those, which for their worth depend upon a quibble or a pun, exercise any influence upon the feelings or the intellect, and therefore they produce no enjoyment beyond the passing trivial gratification. They are epigrams

in name, but they have not the ancient mark of epigram-
matic writing. Allowable if sparingly used, play upon
words, if generally adopted, would ruin this style of poetry.
Towards the close of the eighteenth century epigram-
writing declined. The finer ancient models had been
gradually more and more neglected. Loose satire and
personal invective had become its chief characteristics;
and men of taste saw in its modern style nothing that was
noble, everything that was debasing. Sunk into vicious
imbecility, it lost all claim to respect. Fallen from respect,
even the few who strove to retain for it a position of
honour, were powerless to save it from degradation. One
man stands prominently forward, to whom must be ac-
corded the unenviable distinction of doing more than any
other to debase our lighter poetic literature. With the
knowledge and the power which enabled him to vie with
some of the best epigram-writers, as is shown by a few
of his pieces, Dr. Wolcot (Peter Pindar) prostituted his
talents to the most virulent satire and the lowest lam-
poons. The following personal epigram, published in his
Works, 1812, is a specimen of his gross vulgarity.
"To
Lady Mount Edgcumbe, on the Death of her Pig, Cupid :"
Oh, dry that tear, so round and big;

Nor waste in sighs your precious wind!
Death only takes a single pig:

Your lord and son are still behind.

Men, however, there have always been who, even in the worst times, have written with purity and taste, and to their epigrammatic writings the appeal must be made against any general denunciation of that style of literature. In the present day there are signs of a reaction. Satire is no longer considered necessary to the epigram, nor are Martial's inferior pieces now accepted as models. Translations of the purest Greek epigrams are becoming popular, and the national taste is showing satisfactory evidence that it appreciates the beauty of the ancient inscriptions. Supply will follow the demand, and Epigrammatists may be expected to arise, who will follow in the steps of those who in past times made Simonides and Plato, Leonidas and Meleager, their models.

The declension of epigram-writing is much to be lamented. For two reasons in particular.

First, as a loss in a literary point of view. There is no class of poetry which displays more prominently the taste and skill of the poet. It is far from being an easy style in which to gain proficiency; and therefore it is one which tests the merit of the writer. It is, moreover, a style which requires peculiar adaptation to the work; one in which many a true poet may fail, while another, incapable of producing a continuous poem, may admirably succeed. Cowper was a man of real poetic power, but he was a poor Epigrammatist. Dr. Jortin takes no rank as a poet, but the few epigrams he has left are of singular beauty. A talent is thus lost; powers which exist are untried; and the world is deprived of enjoyment, which might be conferred by the development of a capacity for epigram-writing. Again, the terseness required in an epigram is of great use for the acquisition of elegance in general literature and conversation. This is well put by Graves in his essay in the Festoon": 66 Young people might receive the same advantage to their style in writing, and to their manner of expressing themselves in conversation, from being accustomed to the force and conciseness peculiar to an epigram, as it is allowed they generally do, to their way of thinking and reasoning, from the close method of argumentation essential to mathematical writings." The composition of Latin epigrams is retained as an exercise in some of our schools, Westminster in particular; and the prizes established at Cambridge by the eccentric physician and scholar, Sir William Browne, for Greek and Latin epigrams, keep up the habit in that University. If it be advantageous for boys and young men to write graceful Latin epigrams for the promotion of terse classical composition, it must be also advantageous to write English epigrams with the same object in reference to their native language. English epigram-writing was formerly common among schoolboys, and many of our greatest poets and wits tried their powers as Epigrammatists, whilst they played at Eton or at Westminster, or musingly sauntered on the banks of the Isis or the Cam.