undaries of his Muse, so in
this little poem he had no other view than to set forth the beauty of
a chaste and disinterested passion, even in the lowest class of human
life. The real occasion was this: A shoemaker's 'prentice, making
holiday with his sweetheart, treated her with a sight of Bedlam, the
puppet-shows, the flying-chairs, and all the elegancies of Moorfields;
from whence, proceeding to the Farthing Pye-house, he gave her a
collation of buns, cheesecakes, gammon of bacon, stuffed beef, and
bottled ale; through all which scenes the author dodged them (charmed
with the simplicity of their courtship), from whence he drew this
little sketch of Nature; but, being then young and obscure, he was
very much ridiculed for this performance; which, nevertheless, made
its way into the polite world, and amply recompensed him by the
applause of the divine Addison, who was pleased (more than once) to
mention it with approbation."

In "The Poet's Resentment" poor Carey had once forsworn "the harlot
Muse:"--

Far, far away then chase the harlot Muse,
Nor let her thus thy noon of life abuse;
Mix with the common crowd, unheard, unseen,
And if again thou tempt'st the vulgar praise,
Mayst thou be crown'd with birch instead of bays!

Poets make such oaths in sincerity, and break them in rapture.

At the time that this poet could neither walk the streets nor be
seated at the convivial board, without listening to his own songs and
his own music--for, in truth, the whole nation was echoing his verse,
and crowded theatres were applauding his wit and humour--while this
very man himself, urged by his strong humanity, founded a "Fund for
decayed Musicians"--he was so broken-hearted, and his own common
comforts so utterly neglected, that in despair, not waiting for nature
to relieve him from the burden of existence, he laid violent hands on
himself; and when found dead, had only a halfpenny in his pocket! Such
was the fate of the author of some of the most popular pieces in our
language. He left a son, who inherited his misery, and a gleam of his
genius.

FOOTNOTES:

[73] The late Richard Clark, of the Chapel Royal and Westminster
Abbey, published in 1823 "An Account of the National Anthem,
entitled God save the King," in which he satisfactorily proves
"that Carey neither had, nor could have had, any claim at all
to this composition," which he traces back to the celebrated
co