epto processerit, et sibi constet.

HORACE.

From his first Entrance to the closing Scene,
Let him one equal Character maintain.

FRANCIS.

Having thus gone through the first part, or _beginning_ of the Poem,
we may naturally enough proceed to the consideration of the second.

The second part, or _middle_, is the proper place for bustle and
business; for incident and adventure.

"The Knave of Hearts
"He stole those Tarts."

Here attention is awakened; and our whole souls are intent upon the
first appearance of the Hero. Some readers may perhaps be offended at
his making his _entre_ in so disadvantageous a character as that of a
_thief_. To this I plead precedent.

The Hero of the Iliad, as I observed in a former paper, is made to
lament very pathetically,--that "life is not like all other possessions,
to be acquired by theft."--A reflection, in my opinion, evidently
shewing, that, if he _did_ refrain from the practice of this ingenious
art, it was not from want of an inclination that way. We may remember
too, that in _Virgil's_ poem, almost the first light in which the _Pious
AEneas_ appears to us, is a _deer-stealer_; nor is it much excuse for
him, that the deer were wandering without keepers; for however he might,
from this circumstance, have been unable to ascertain whose property
they were; he might, I think, have been pretty well assured that they
were not _his_.

Having thus acquitted our Hero of misconduct, by the example of his
betters, I proceed to what I think the Master-Stroke of the Poet.

"The Knave of Hearts
"He stole those Tarts,
"And----took them----quite away!!"

Here, whoever has an ear for harmony, and a heart for feeling, must be
touched! There is a desponding melancholy in the run of the last line!
an air of tender regret in the addition of "_quite away!_" a something
so expressive of irrecoverable loss! so forcibly intimating the "_Ah
nunquam reditura!_" "They never can return!" in short, such an union of
sound and sense, as we rarely, if ever meet with in any author, ancient
or modern. Our feelings are all alive--but the Poet, wisely dreading
that our sympathy with the injured Queen might alienate our affections
from his Hero, contrives immediately to awaken our fears for him,
by telling us, that

"The King of Hearts
"Call'd for those Tarts,"--

We are all conscious of the fault of our Hero, and all tremble with him,
for the punishmen