confessed that so little is indicated by the poet, as to the character
of Jack and Jill, that we feel no more interest in their fate, tragical
as it is, than if they were designated by the letters X and Y of
algebraical notoriety; or by the names of those personages, who figure
in legal fictions, John Doe and Richard Roe.

Not so with Jack Horner: the very incident recorded in the first line
lets us into his character; he is evidently a lover of solitude and of
solitary contemplation. He is not, however, a gloomy ascetic; he takes
into his corner a Christmas pie, and, while he leisurely gratifies his
palate, his mind feasts on the higher luxury of an approving conscience.
It has been said that the man who loves solitude must be either an angel
or a demon. Horner had more of the former in his composition; he retired
from the busy haunts of his playmates not to meditate mischief, but to
feast upon the pie, which had probably been given him as a reward for
his good conduct, and indulge in the delightful thoughts to which the
consciousness of deserving it gave rise. But here it may be objected,
why instead of eating his pie in a corner, did he not share it with his
companions? The remark is pertinent, but the circumstance only evinces
the admirable management of the poet; to represent his hero without a
defect would be to outrage nature, and to render imitation hopeless.
Horner, it must be admitted, with all his excellence, was too fond of
good eating; it is in vain to deny it; his deliberately pulling out a
plum with his finger and thumb, shows the epicure, not excited by the
voracity of hunger, but evidently aiming to protract his enjoyment. The
exclamation which follows savours of vanity; but when his youth is
recollected, this will be deemed a venial error, and it must also be
considered that his few faults were probably compensated by a
constellation of excellencies. This poem has been imitated, (I will not
say successfully, for its beautiful simplicity is in fact inimitable,)