Methinks, oh vain, ill-judging book! I see thee cast a wistful look, Where reputations won and lost are In famous row called _Paternoster_. Incensed to find your precious olio Buried in unexplored port-folio, You scorn the prudent lock and key; And pant, well-bound and gilt, to see Your volume in the window set Of Stockdale, Hookham, and Debrett. Go then, and pass that dangerous bourne Whence never book can back return; And when you find--condemned, despised, Neglected, blamed, and criticized-- Abuse from all who read you fall (If haply you be read at all), Sorely will you for folly sigh at, And wish for me, and home, and quiet. Assuming now a conjurer's office, I Thus on your future fortune prophesy:-- Soon as your novelty is o'er, And you are young and new no more, In some dark dirty corner thrown, Mouldy with damps, with cobwebs strown, Your leaves shall be the bookworm's prey; Or sent to chandler's shop away, And doomed to suffer public scandal, Shall line the trunk, or wrap the candle. M. G. LEWIS. _The Monk._ THE ELEPHANT AND THE BOOKSELLER The Bookseller, who heard him speak, And saw him turn a page of Greek, Thought, what a genius have I found! Then thus addressed with bow profound: 'Learned Sir, if you'd employ your pen Against the senseless sons of men, Or write the history of Siam, No man is better pay than I am. Or, since you're learned in Greek, let's see Something against the Trinity.' When, wrinkling with a sneer his trunk, 'Friend', quoth the Elephant, 'you're drunk: E'en keep your money, and be wise; Leave man on man to criticize: For that you ne'er can want a pen Among the senseless sons of men. They unprovoked will court the fray; Envy's a sharper spur than pay. No author ever spared a brother; Wits are gamecocks to one another.' J. GAY. _Fables._ LITERARY UPHOLSTERERS Our booksellers here at London disgrace literature by the trash they bespeak to be written, and at the same time prevent everything else from being sold. They are little more or less than upholsterers, who sell _sets_ or _bodies_ of arts and sciences for furniture; and the purchasers, for I am very sure they are not readers, buy only in that view. I never thought there was much merit in reading: but yet it is too good a thing to be put upon no better footing than damask and mahogany.--H. WALPOLE. EARL OF ORFORD (Letter to Sir David Dalrymple). No furniture so charming as books, even if you never open them or read a single word.--S. SMITH. _Memoirs._ ON A MISCELLANY OF POEMS To BERNARD LINTOTT _'Ipsa varietate tentamus efficere ut alia aliis, quaedam fortasse omnibus placeant.'_ _Plin. Epist._