company coming to the Place to morn:
Bess housemaid told me. Lord and Lady----: dash
My wigs! I can't think on. But there's a mash
O' comp'ny and fine ladies; fit to torn
The heads of these young chaps. Why now I'd lay
This here gun to an empty powder-horn
Sir Reginald be in love, or that-a-way.
He looks a little downcast-loikish,--eh?'"--pp.62, 63.

It will be observed that there is no vulgarity in this vulgarism:
indeed, the gentlemanly good humour of the poem is uninterrupted.
This, combined with neatness of handling, and the habit of not
over-doing, produces that general facility of appearance which it is
no disparagement, in speaking of a first canto, to term the chief
result of so much of these life and adventures as is here "done into
verse." It may be fairly anticipated, however, that no want of
variety in the conception, or of success in the pourtrayal, of
character will need to be complained of: meanwhile, a few passages
may be quoted to confirm our assertions. The two first extracts are
examples of mere cleverness; and all that is aimed at is attained.
The former follows out a previous comparison of the world with a
"huge churn."

"Yet some, despising life's legitimate aim,
Instead of butter, would become "the cheese;"
A low term for distinction. Whence the name
I know not: gents invented it; and these
Gave not an etymology. I see no
Likelier than this, which with their taste agrees;
The _caseine_ element I conceive to mean no
Less than the _beau ideal_ of the Casino."--p.12.

"Wise were the Augurers of old, nor erred
In substance, deeming that the life of man--
(This is a new reflection, spick and span)--
May be much influenced by the flight of birds.
Our senate can no longer hold their house
When culminates the evil star of grouse;
And stoutest patriots will their shot-belts gird
When first o'er stubble-field hath partridge whirred."--p.25.

In these others there is more purpose, with a no less definite
conciseness:

"Comes forth the first great poet. Then a number
Of followers leave much literary lumber.
He cuts his phrases in the sapling grain
Of language; and so weaves them at his will.
They from his wickerwork extract with pain
The wands now warped and stiffened, which but ill
Bend to their second-hand employment."--pp. 4, 5.

"What's life? A riddle;
Or sieve which sifts you thro' it in the midd