(_The following, apart from its intrinsic utility, forms in itself a
great literary curiosity, being the original directions from which
the Poet Laureate composed the Arthurian Idylls._)
To compose an epic, some writers instruct us first to catch our hero.
As, however, Mr. Carlyle is the only person on record who has ever
performed this feat, it will be best for the rest of mankind to be
content with the nearest approach to a hero available, namely a prig.
These animals are very plentiful, and easy to catch, as they delight in
being run after. There are however many different kinds, not all equally
fit for the present purpose, and amongst which it is very necessary to
select the right one. Thus, for instance, there is the scientific and
atheistical prig, who may be frequently observed eluding notice between
the covers of the "Westminster Review;" the Anglican prig, who is often
caught exposing himself in the "Guardian;" the Ultramontane prig, who
abounds in the "Dublin Review;" the scholarly prig, who twitters among
the leaves of the "Academy;" and the Evangelical prig, who converts the
heathen, and drinks port wine. None of these, and least of all the last,
will serve for the central figure, in the present class of poem. The
only one entirely suitable is the blameless variety. Take, then, one
blameless prig. Set him upright in the middle of a round table, and
place beside him a beautiful wife, who cannot abide prigs. Add to these,
one marred goodly man; and tie the three together in a bundle with a
link or two of Destiny. Proceed, next, to surround this group with a
large number of men and women of the nineteenth century, in fancy-ball
costume, flavoured with a great many very possible vices, and a few
impossible virtues. Stir these briskly about for two volumes, to the
great annoyance of the blameless prig, who is, however, to be kept
carefully below swearing-point, for the whole time. If he once boils
over into any natural action or exclamation, he is forthwith worthless,
and you must get another. Next break the wife's reputation into small
pieces; and dust them well over the blameless prig. Then take a few
vials of tribulation and wrath, and empty these generally over the whole
ingredients of your poem: and, taking the sword of the heathen, cut into
small pieces the greater part of your minor characters. Then wound
slightly the head of the blameless prig; remove him suddenly from the
table, and keep in a cool barge for future use.