decide the fate of the memorable turbot. His fourth satire
frequently reminds us of the great political poem of Dryden; but
it was not written till Domitian had fallen: and it wants
something of the peculiar flavour which belongs to contemporary
invective alone. His anger has stood so long that, though the
body is not impaired, the effervescence, the first cream, is
gone. Boileau lay under similar restraints; and, if he had been
free from all restraints, would have been no match for our
countryman.

The advantages which Dryden derived from the nature of his
subject he improved to the very utmost. His manner is almost
perfect. The style of Horace and Boileau is fit only for light
subjects. The Frenchman did indeed attempt to turn the
theological reasonings of the Provincial Letters into verse, but
with very indifferent success. The glitter of Pope is gold. The
ardour of Persius is without brilliancy. Magnificent
versification and ingenious combinations rarely harmonise with
the expression of deep feeling. In Juvenal and Dryden alone we
have the sparkle and the heat together. Those great satirists
succeeded in communicating the fervour of their feelings to
materials the most incombustible, and kindled the whole mass into
a blaze, at once dazzling and destructive. We cannot, indeed,
think, without regret, of the part which so eminent a writer as
Dryden took in the disputes of that period. There was, no doubt,
madness and wickedness on both sides. But there was liberty on
the one, and despotism on the other. On this point, however, we
will not dwell. At Talavera the English and French troops for a
moment suspended their conflict, to drink of a stream which
flowed between them. The shells were passed across from enemy to