This is the main, at least the most dominant, note of _Pacchiarotto_.

It is like an aftermath of _Aristophanes' Apology_.

But the English poet scarcely deigns to defend his art.

No beautiful and brilliant woman is there to put him on his mettle and call out his chivalry.

The mass of his critics are roundly made game of, in a boisterously genial sally, as "sweeps" officiously concerned at his excess of "smoke." _Pacchiarotto_ is a whimsical tale of a poor painter who came to grief in a Quixotic effort to "reform" his fellows.