or wisdom lay in these silent symbols of immature genius!
In such imitations there is no novelty, and very little wit. Many of our most distinguished writers—Dr. Johnson among others—have furnished occasional amusement to such as felt disposed to exercise their ingenuity as literary caricaturists. Even the straightforward style of Boswell has found an imitator in Mr. Alexander Chalmers. But such things must be taken for what they are really worth; and no one whose productions are not in themselves ridiculous, need fear their effect. The smile they occasionally excite forms but a polite and speedy dismissal to oblivion.
No reply came from Malone. He had at first intended it, as I find by a letter from the Rev. Mr. Blakeway, who supposed him (January, 1801) occupied with—“Your proposed and well-deserved castigation of Mr. George Hardinge, which I have been expecting with some impatience to see announced in the papers.” The Bishop of Dromore also writes—“I read with pleasure the article signed ‘W.’ which I conclude was intended to have had the signature of Sciolus. Can you guess who was your maligner? He took great pains to gratify his ill-humour, for which I neither envy him his success nor his motives.” A genius of superior order has however estimated his labours as they deserve. Sir Walter Scott found it vain to delve in a mine where Malone had been a workman with the hope of finding anything new. He accepts his facts; and interweaves his own narrative with such notices and criticisms of the poets and
