LITTLE ODES 
 
 TO 
 
 GREAT FOLKS. 
 

 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 

 
JLITTILE ODES 
 
 TO 
 
 GREAT FOLKS; 
 
 WITH A 
 
 DEDICATORY DITHYRAMBIC 
 
 TO 
 
 Sir R-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps, Knight. 
 
 BY PINDAR MINIMUS, 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES; CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY, 
 
 Operoso parvus 
 
 Carmina fingo. 
 
 Hon, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY W. LEWIS, PATERNOSTER-ROW; 
 rOH s. A. AND H. ODDY, 27, OXFORD STREET; AND C. EA 
 ORANGE, NASSAU STREET, DUBLIN. 
 
 1808 , 
 

 . 
 
 \ 1 ' 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 H ; • #t .ho i ' mmi 
 
 ■ . 
 
 ■ ,r • > ' a - 
 
 XfA • H'A ).V- ’f -) 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
S eft^yJL^cL^y^, I ss 
 
 %t> \ 
 
 TO THE READERS, 
 
 GENTLE AND SIMPLE. 
 
 My great ancestor, Pindar the First, is (as 
 the curious reader may already know) long 
 since deceased 1 . His bastard Peter, they say, is 
 still alive, or rather breathing, for he is known 
 to be dead to all the purposes of poetry, and 
 he was lately proved before the Lord Chief 
 Justice, to be defunct as to any use the 
 better part of man could make of him. A 
 fine opening seems to present itself— 
 
 -Tentanda via est qua me quoque possim 
 
 Tollere humo, victorque virftm volitare per ora. 
 
 4 - 
 
 io 
 
vi 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 To rival my namesake of Greece, indeed, 
 Horace* * * § despaired, and so do I. His auda¬ 
 cious dithyrambics'f* who shall dare to 
 imitate,-—save Mr. George Dyer His re¬ 
 bellious numbers who,—save Mr. Robert 
 Southey ?§ His sublime unintelligibility 
 
 * See Carm. lib. 4. Ode 2. 
 
 Pindarum quisquis studet temulari, Me. 
 
 Sea per audaces nova dithyrambos , 
 
 Verba devolvit, numeris quefertur 
 lege solutis — Me. 
 
 f Of the exact nature of a Dithyramb c, little is 
 known. One principal characteristic, however, seems 
 to have been what Boileau calls “ un beau desordre.” 
 
 J See “ Odes,” &c. by a gentleman of this name. 
 
 § See Mr. Southey’s “ Thalaba, the Destroyer”— 
 of Rhyme and Reason. 
 
PREFACE. v ii 
 
 * 
 
 what modern durst attempt,—save Mr. 
 Thomas Taylor * and Doctor Edwards? f 
 
 But while, with an ingenious candour, 
 I confess that my poetical talents are inferior 
 to those of the “ deep-mouth’d Theban,” 
 I will not allow that the subjects immor¬ 
 talized by his muse have any superiority 
 over those hereinafter immortalized by 
 mine, or expressed or intended so to be.^: 
 
 * See this gentleman’s preface to his translation of 
 Maximus Tyrias, in which he says that to be intel¬ 
 ligible, is not his intention. 
 
 f See divers works by this incomparable Doctor— 
 one called “ The True T£ra of Mankind,” which, 
 when you have read thro’— 
 
 -You raise your eyes in doubt, 
 
 And gravely wonder what it’s all about. 
 
 X Our poet has evidently borrowed these expressions 
 from the gentlemen of the Law, who properly attached 
 
 a 2 
 
Vlli PREFACE. 
 
 # 
 
 Look thro’ the Greek and Roman his-* 
 torians,—nay, if you chuse, turn over our 
 annual volumes of “ Public Characters,”—• 
 and then point me out, if you can, a Per¬ 
 sonage, more illustrious than the Knight 
 to whom I have ventured (without per-* 
 mission) to dedicate this volume. 
 
 As for the Lords and Commons, who 
 follow, their merits have, some of them, 
 been already said or sung; and it may at 
 first appear presumptuous in me to touch 
 them at all, after the well-merited cele¬ 
 brity conferred on them by their peculiar 
 poet, Polypus. But, let it be remembered 
 that Odes are not Satires , and that the sub- 
 ject is inexhaustible. 
 
 to “ the glorious uncertainty” of it, never venture to 
 state a fact, without at the same time modestly hinting 
 a doubt of it. 
 
But tho’ born a poet, I never set up for 
 a commentator; and tho’ an Ode may be 
 pindaric, in the highest degree, it by no 
 means follows that the maker can himself 
 explain its meaning. Few genuine poets 
 have been able to illustrate their own 
 works. Thus Goldsmith, when he was 
 asked whether slowness of locomotion was 
 meant by the first line of his Traveller— 
 
 u Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow ,” 
 
 ignorantly answered,/^,—’til Doctor John¬ 
 son set him right, and satisfactorily proved 
 to him and the company, that he meant 
 quite a different thing.* Whether the 
 elder Pindar ever understood all he wrote, 
 can now be only matter of conjecture. 
 
 * Every reader of Boswell will remember this anecdote. 
 
X 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 However that be, he certainly has sadly 
 puzzled his commentators;—and this, in- 
 tirely owing to his having had no friend 
 or editor, to revise and illustrate his \yorks, 
 at the time of publication. 
 
 Warned by the sad effects of his neglect, 
 I am happy to assure my Reader, that I 
 have, at a great expence, engaged an Editor, 
 possessing every qualification to render our 
 union desirable, and with a sagacity sq 
 truly Warburtonian, that he has pledged 
 his credit to find a meaning for whatever 
 I may chuse to write. 
 
 And now, gentle Readers, -wishing 
 you as much pleasure in the perusal of 
 the following Odes, as I have had in the 
 composition of them, I bid you farewell, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XI 
 
 with a hint, that if you buy up half a dozen 
 editions of these, you may possibly have 
 “ More Odes” at a future time.— 
 
 Y our*s—“ 
 
 P. Mo 
 
 The Notes of my learned Editor, 
 Sextus Scrxblerus, are marked with his 
 initials. 
 
 N. B. Since the Title-page was printed, 
 off, my Publisher has hinted that he has 
 been told by a learned friend, that some of 
 my Odes are longer than the longest of Pin¬ 
 dar,-—and therefore suggested whether the 
 epithet “ Little” be strictly proper;—but 
 
. ■ ) ‘ 5 * . ■ ; iti 
 
 ^ PREFACE 
 
 I immediately set him at ease, by pointing 
 out that the Odes were still little, in compa¬ 
 rison with the great merits of the heroes 
 whom they celebrate. 
 
A 
 
 DYTHYRAMBIC ODE,* 
 
 HUMBLY DEDICATED TO 
 
 Sir Ri-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps, 
 
 FORMERLY OF L-C-ST-R, LATE OF ST. P-’S C_H 
 
 Y-D, NOW OF N-W BR-DGE S-T, 
 
 lAnigfjt!!! 
 
 A vxZiQo%[uyyt<; t/^uyo*, 
 
 Tivoc Ssov, Tty* rifuciy 
 nva <} 'oiv^foc, KsXx^yta’oiMv ; 
 
 Pindar Olymp. II. 
 
 En\ 
 
 EQUITEM— 
 
 Insult are solo, ct gressus glomer are superbos ! 
 
 Yirg. Geor. III. 117. 
 
 H eard+ ye not yon’ rumbling coaches ? 
 
 Saw ye not yon’ maces bright! 
 
 What “ Public Character” approaches? 
 ’Tis Sir R-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps, Knight! 
 
 * The Author affects not to conceal, that in the Ode en¬ 
 suing, he may, occasionally, be tracked in the footsteps of 
 Ilomer, Pindar, Virgil, Milton, and other congenial Poets. 
 A few instances are noted, for the benefit of the unlearned 
 reader. 
 
 + “ Heard ye not yon’ footsteps dread V'—Chorus in 
 Mason's Caractacus . 
 
 B 
 
 Printed by S. A. and II. Oddy, 
 27, Oxford Street. 
 
2 
 
 His love of fame, how nobly great !* * * § 
 How nicely powder’d is his pate ! 
 
 With bag, and sword, and gown! 
 From gilded chariot he surveysf 
 The rabble’s wonder-stricken gaze, 
 
 As Fleet Street he rides down! 
 
 And there, ’mid loud huzzas.J 
 
 Proudly o’er-topping Tag-Rag-Bob, || 
 The Sheriff-Knight 
 Sits bolt upright, 
 
 And seems to rule the Mob!§ 
 
 * Milton calls it (( the last infirmity of noble minds.” 
 Churchill foolishly says — u Common to fools and wits the 
 rage of Fame.” S. S. 
 
 f e£ Equis curruque superbo fertur.” IIor. 
 
 + (C lo, magna voce, Triumphe, canent.” Ov. Trist. 
 4, 19. 
 
 || ££ Veheris Populi rite per ora.” Ov. Trist. 
 
 § u And seems to shake the spheres.” Dryden’s Ode to 
 St. Cecilia. 
 
3 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sound your tympans, * pressman all! 
 Beat, each printer’s-dev’l, his ball! 
 Thump-ity, thump— 
 
 Dump-ity, dump— 
 
 Quick let it rise—quick let it fall! f 
 
 * The tympan is a part of a printing-press, made of parch¬ 
 ment. The ball , stuffed with wool, and covered with a pelt, 
 lays the ink on the Types .—Note by Printer's Devil. 
 
 + Every pressman will recognize the imitative harmony 
 of these lines, evidently formed by our poet on the precept 
 of Pope— 
 
 u And be the sound an echo of the sense.” 
 
 See Homer’s Iliad, and for a more modern example, take 
 the following, from Thornton’s Ode to St. Cecilia: 
 
 <c In strains more exalted the salt-box shall join, 
 
 66 And clatt’ring, and batt’ring, and clapping combine, 
 
 (i With a rap, and a tap, while the hollow side sounds, 
 u Up and down leaps the flaps, and with rattling rebounds!’ ’ 
 
4 
 
 See, see— 
 
 Tis He— 
 
 The mighty Master of you all! 
 
 Ye that write books, ye that bind,— 
 
 Each creature of the letter’d kind,— 
 
 Together meet 
 In N-w Br-dge Street, 
 
 To sing Sir R-ch-rd’s praise! 
 
 Ye Stars * proclaim 
 His matchless fame, 
 
 y .. . 
 
 In Doctor B-sby’s lays! 
 
 Rise, Sir R-ch-rd—Sir R-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps rise! 
 Be-dubb’d—be-prais’d—be-paragraph’d—arise ! 
 
 * See 66 Lines to R. P. Esq. Sherifffyc. by Dr. B 
 which appeared in the Star. Sic itur ad astra. Our Knight, 
 I have heard, is one of the proprietors of that luminous print, 
 as is, or was, that learned Flagellant, Doctor V. of Reading. 
 And yet the editor of the Sun hath the astonishing assurance 
 to assert (at least in his motto) that Sot clarior Astro! S. S. 
 
5 
 
 ’Twas at the Lord May’r’s feast, on Easter day,* 
 When London looks so gay, 
 
 Aloft, in chair of state, 
 
 Sir R'CH'Rd Ph-ll-ps sate! 
 
 The Common-council-men around 
 Scarce daPd to look above the ground; 
 
 The Dixons, fam’d fcr sound and sense, 
 
 Twin thunderbolts of eloquence,t 
 Great at Guildhall, beyond dispute, 
 
 As Gog and Magog then were mute! 
 
 The Aldermen, each one in turn, 
 
 With paunch that heaves, and cheeks that burn 4 J 
 
 * <c ’Twas at the Royal Feast, for Persia Avon, &c.” 
 Drydes’s Ode . 
 
 + Duo fnlmina belli—Scipiadae. Virg, JEn. 
 
 + u With thoughts that breathe and words that burn .’ 5 
 Gray. 
 
6 
 
 Sir William Curtis, Colonel Birch, 
 
 Firm pillars both of State and Church, 
 
 Price,—Leighto^,—Eamer,—Perring,—Combe,* * * § 
 And names for which I can’t find room,—t 
 Congratulations pouring on the Knight, 
 
 Hail’d him the City’s safe-guard and delight!+ 
 
 Doctor B-sby, plac’d on high,§ 
 
 Amid the civic band, 
 
 * Alcandrumque, Haliemquc, Noemonaque, Prytanimq. 
 Virg. JEn. 9. 767. 
 
 + ££ With sundry other articles too numerous to mention.” 
 Vide Coxe and Christie’s Prospectuses, passim. S. S. 
 
 + Et presidium et dulce decus. Hor. lib. 1. Od. 1. 
 
 § C£ Timotheus plac’d on high,” &c. Dryden’s Ode. 
 
7 
 
 Scrap’d the fiddle with a masters hand, 
 The notes immortal to the ceiling fly 1 
 
 « Books and the Man, I sing,* 
 
 » / 
 
 “ Who first from LEic-sT-R'came, 
 
 6i To London town, compell’d by fate, 
 
 66 In search of food and fame ! 
 
 “ For food and fame his appetite would raise 
 u Hungry alike for pudding and for praise!” 
 The court around, 
 
 Rouz’d by the sound, 
 
 Gaz’d with delight 
 Upon the Knight: 
 
 The croud without 
 Set up a shout, 
 
 Which soon thro’ Cheapside flies—- 
 
 * Arma Virumque cano, Trojce qui primus ab oris, &c. 
 
 Virg. JEn . i. 1. 
 
8 
 
 C{ SirR-cH-RD Ph-ll-ps, Knight!” N-w-Br-dge- 
 Street cries — 
 
 u Sir R-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps, Knight!” Saint Paul’s 
 replies— 
 
 cc SirR-cH-RD Ph-ll-ps, Knight!” re-echoes to 
 Battersea-Rise.* 
 
 Sooth’d with the sounds, the Knight grew vain— 
 f Eat all his dinners o’er again— 
 
 And thrice the turtle he devour’d, and thrice he 
 quaff’d Champaigne—J 
 
 * u Eurydice the woods,— 
 u Eurydice the floods— 
 u Eurydice the rocks rebound.” 
 
 Pote’s Ode to St. Cecilia. 
 
 f <£ Fought all his battles o’er again, 
 
 Ci And thrice he routed all his foes, 
 
 66 And thrice he slew the slain.” 
 
 Dryden’s Ode . 
 
 + Our Poet, aitho’ intimately acquainted with the ex¬ 
 cellencies of Sir It. P.’s public character, seems to have been 
 somewhat ignorant of his private habits. The worthy 
 
9 
 
 The Doctor saw his colour rise,* 
 
 His burning cheeks, his blazing eyes, 
 And while the Lord May’r he defied, 
 Chang’d his tune, and check’d his pride. 
 He chose a mournful muse, 
 
 Soft pity to infuse,— 
 
 Knightis a disciple of the Pythagorean Philosopher, Ritson, 
 and religiously abstains from all fleshly food, lest he should 
 unwittingly devour a piece of his grandmother. See the 
 incomparable Ritson’s Treatise u On Abstinence from Ani¬ 
 mal Food,” in which it is proved to demonstration, that all 
 the sheep and oxen, cruelly butchered for our tables, are 
 nothing more or less than our forefathers, served up in the 
 shape of beef and mutton. On the physical effects of a ve¬ 
 getable diet, consult Mr. Rymer's Tract u On the Nutri- 
 ferous system in Men, Quadrupeds, and Birds, and all 
 Creatures which have Livers^' under one or other of which 
 heads, you will be sure to find the case of Sir R. P. 
 
 S. S. 
 
 * u Timotheussaw his madness rise,” &:c. Dryhen’s Ode. 
 
10 
 
 He sang poor Curl,* 
 
 By too severe a fate, 
 
 Fallen, fallen, fallen, 
 
 Fallen from his high estate— 
 
 In his shop expos’d he lies, 
 
 And by Swift’s pen most prematurely dies !f 
 Sir R-ch-rd hung his pensive brow, 
 
 In sensibility dissolving, 
 
 The various turns of life revolving, 
 
 His former fate—his fortunes now! 
 
 In fancy rapt, he visions sees—■ 
 
 (But such, I ween, as little please)— 
 
 Across his memory sudden flash 
 Stockings—ribbands—tapes—and trash-— 
 
 * 66 He sang Darius great and good.” Dryden’s Ode . 
 
 + See Narrative of the Death and Burial of Curl, in 
 Swift’s Misc. 
 
11 
 
 A Hosier now no more! 
 
 Dim and deserted, all in tears, 
 
 The Leicester Herald's ghost appears, 
 
 With bad debts many a score—- 
 
 While many a libel, many a lie, 
 
 Call forth a groan, call forth a sigh! 
 Much-musing on his Herald’s mournful fate, * 
 Dissolv’d in grief, Sir R-ch-rd Ph-ll-ps sate! 
 
 The tuneful Doctor smil’d to see 
 
 That love was in the next degree. 
 
 Softly sweet he sang a scoret 
 
 * 
 
 Of songs by Little Thomas M-re— 
 
 * Sir R. P.’s desertion of the fair Herald can be compared 
 to nothing so aptly as the u pius iEneas” ’s conduct to poor 
 
 Dido— Infelice Dido -But Mr. P. like his prototype, was, 
 
 it seems, fato profugus , and like him, no doubt declared, 
 
 - Nec ego Inane abscondere furto 
 
 Speravi, finge, fugam. S. S. 
 
 + 66 Softly sweet in Lydian measures,” &c. Dryden’s 
 
 Ode. 
 
12 
 
 Books, he sang, are toil and trouble,* * * § 
 Learning but an empty bubble, t 
 Never ending, still beginning, 
 
 Ink and paper still employing; 
 
 If a plum + be worth thy winning, 
 
 Think, oh think, it worth enjoying! 
 
 Lovely A-sits beside thee, f 
 
 Take what the I ord May’r provides thee! 
 
 * u War, he sung, is toil and trouble, 
 u Honour but an empty bubble,” &c. Dryden’s Ode. 
 
 + Learning, that cobweb of the brain,” &c. Doctor 
 Ralpho in Hudibr. Cant. 3, 1339. 
 
 J Sir R. P. is said to hold (since his removal into Br-dge 
 St-eet,) that no man is worth a thought, who is not worth a 
 plum. S. S. 
 
 § i( Lovely Thais sits beside thee, 
 
 Take the good the Gods provide thee,” &c. 
 
 Dryden’s Ode. 
 
13 
 
 Th’ Egyptian Hall is rent with loud applause, 
 
 So Love* was crown’d, but Music won the cause! 
 The Knight, unable to conceal his pain,t 
 Gaz’d on ihe Fair 
 Who caus’d his care, 
 
 And sigh’d and look’d, sigh’d and look’d, 
 
 Sigh’d and look’d, and sigh’d again! 
 
 At length, with love and wine at once opprest, 
 The sighing Sheriff’sank upon her breast!+ 
 
 * But where was Hymen all this time ? Is not our gal¬ 
 lant Knight already bound in vinculo matrimonii? Or 
 doth he think, with a celebrated Sir of former times,-who was 
 himself the u Mirror of Knighthood,” that men of their 
 44 passing worth” 
 
 -should be allow’d 
 
 In love a greater latitude. Hupib. 
 
 + u The Prince,” &c. Dryden’s Ode. 
 
 + ‘ 4 The vanquished victor,” &c. Ibid. 
 
14 
 
 Now blow, ye trumpeters, amain:* 
 
 A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. 
 
 Break his bands of sleep asunder 
 
 Rouse him, like Pizarro’s rollingt thunder ! 
 
 Hark, hark, the horrid sound 
 Has rais’d up his head, 
 
 As awak’d from the dead, 
 
 And amaz’d he stares around! 
 
 Revenge, revenge! the Doctor cries, 
 
 Rise Sir R-ch-rd, rise! 
 
 See ! Mister Bl—re J 
 Is at the door, 
 
 With “ Rutland Literati' half a score! 
 
 iO % v. . ... ■ •• '' 1 - 
 
 * u Now strike the golden lyre again,” &c. Duyden’s 
 
 Ode . 
 
 + This is a very expressive epithet to those who are ac¬ 
 quainted with the mechanical philosophy of thunder at the 
 Theatres. S. S. 
 
 + u See the Furies arise,” &c. Dryoen’s Ode. 
 
15 
 
 Behold a black-guard band,* * * § 
 
 Of “ Parish Clerks,” from “ Country Churches” 
 flocking, 
 
 Each a “ Register” in hand,t 
 Making, with nasal twang, a hubbub shocking! 
 Behold!+ how they shake their shovels on high,§ 
 And point to Stamford town ; 
 
 The Sheriff of Middlesex boldly defy, 
 
 And call judicial vengeance down ![] 
 
 Sir R-ch-rd’s ire 
 Rose higher and higher, 
 
 * u Behold a ghastly hand,” &c. Dryden’s Ode. 
 
 + u Each a torch in his hand.” Ibid. 
 
 J u Behold how they toss their torches on high!” Ibid. 
 
 § Country parish-clerks usually unite the official duties of 
 sexton and graye-digger. S. S. 
 
 || All writs, in the original, are returnable by the Sheriff 
 of Middlesex. Vide Tidd’s Practise in K. B. and C. P. 
 
16 
 
 He said no more, 
 
 But lept on Bl-re, 
 
 And from his hand, with furious joy, 
 
 Seiz’d on the <£ Statement,” with zeal to deftroy,* 
 And put it in the fire ! 
 
 A {£ pot-de-charnbre,” of abuse brim full, 
 
 He hurl’d at the “ church-yard” Antiquaries 5 
 skull—f 
 
 Then 66 lights !”J he call’d— 
 
 “ My coach!” he bawl’d— 
 
 And left the hall— 
 
 The feast—the ball— 
 
 The Common-council, Aldermen, Lord May’r, 
 and all! 
 
 * u The King seiz’d a flambeau, with zeal to destroy.” 
 
 DrYden. 
 
 + u When Ajax strives some rock’s vast weight to throw', 
 u The line too labours, and the words move slow.” 
 
 Pope. 
 
 + cc Lights, ho !” Hamlet. 
 
\7 
 
 Home be went, and went to bed— 
 
 With weary body, aching head : 
 
 5 Twas long e’er Morpheus could C{ controul 
 The insurrection in his soul.” 
 
 Sad time uneasy on his bed he lay. 
 
 Now, turn’d him this—and then, that way, 
 Like good King Arthur, ere struck dumb 
 By lanthorn-ghost of Gaffer Thumb ! * 
 
 At length his heavy eye-lids close— 
 
 He snores a broken doze. 
 
 And now beneath the dunnest u pall of night,” 
 In thought he wander’d far from human sight, f 
 
 * The reader, who has seen King Arthur, at Covent 
 Garden, will recognize the beauty of this allusion. S. S. 
 
 + The classical critic need not be told that the lyric poet 
 here enters into competition with the epic—and Sir R-ch-kd 
 Pii-ll-p’s dream will, no doubt, be not less memorable than 
 the descent of iEneas. S. S. 
 
 C 
 
IB 
 
 Till at last. 
 
 He had past, 
 
 (Driv’n on by fate ! ) 
 
 An ivory gate,* 
 
 Which led him strait 
 To dreary realms of Tartarus below", 
 
 Where, nolens-volens , he must go ! 
 
 How did his curdling heart’s-blood freeze, f 
 When there he sees— 
 
 Booksellers—Printers—many an one,— 
 Broiling on Pluto’s gridiron,— 
 
 While hungry authors eager stood, 
 
 Famish’d for want of solid food, 
 
 * Sunt gemmae Somni portae: quarum altera fertur 
 Cornea, qua teris facilis datur exkus umbris, 
 
 Altera, candenti perfecta nitens elephanto; 
 
 Sed falsa ad ccelum mittunt insomnia manes. 
 
 Yiug. JEn. x\. 893 and sap 
 
 t Consistit Tineas-exterritus— 
 
 Virg. JEn. vi. 559. 
 
19 
 
 And printer’s devils, like Dolly’s cooks,* 
 
 All busily a-carving, 
 
 Serv’d up rump-steaks, instead of books, 
 
 To save their souls from starving, t 
 
 There too he saw 
 
 Those who on earth escap’d the law; 
 
 Whose prurient ears 
 
 Were ne’er submitted to the critic’s shears— 
 Curl—Tonson—Noble +—either Bell—§ 
 And more whose names I may not tell— 
 
 * What citizen of taste hath not heard of Dolly ? 
 
 + Is not this a beautiful specimen of Poetical Justice? 
 In this world, booksellers dine on poor authors—in the 
 next, we find the case reversed. The force of the image 
 will be felt by many a frequenter of the Chapter Coffee 
 House. S. S. 
 
 + See Mr. Godwin’s preface to his <c damn’d” Tragedy of 
 Faulkner. Poor Faulkner ! cast and condemned, e’er half 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 There too was H-gh-s, from YV-gm-re Street* 
 Reeking with scandal,* spit upon, and beat—t 
 
 the town knew that there Was such a gentleman in existence. 
 Was this poetical* or political, justice ?—Mr. G/s friends 
 got up two Epilogues—but one of them did not come to 
 hand ’till after the execution, so was never spoken. But 
 (for ’tis a pity to lose a good thing) might not the second- 
 best Epilogue have been published in the shape of an 
 Elegy ? S. S. 
 
 § It is impossible the poet can here mean to allude to the 
 son and sire, to whom the Beau —and— Belle Monde are so 
 much indebted. Hear what a judicious writer hath said of 
 
 Mr. B. the elder.- u He (Sir James Mackintosh) acci- 
 
 u dentally became known to Mr. John B-, of the British 
 
 Library, who, always contemplating great , rather than 
 66 profitable, speculations, has proved the original Meccenas 
 u of half the young men of enterprising talents about town , 
 a and whose biography, if faithfully complied, would in- 
 u elude the early history of some of our most celebrated 
 u legislators , most successful dramatists, and most popular 
 u poets, male and female, of the present fay ^-Public Char. 
 A.rt. Sir J. Mackintosh .—Surely Sir It. P. will, in a future 
 volume, favour the world with a life of this (i Original 
 Meccenas .” S. S. 
 
 * The villainous trash that this man publishes, with 
 
21 
 
 All were condemned a bonfire of their books to 
 make, 
 
 And purge their sins therein 5 * * for Decency’s fair 
 sake. 
 
 But from these sights soon call’d away, 
 
 The Knight bis own name heard pronounc’d— 
 And at the bar of Minos’ court, 
 
 By clerk of the arraigns denounc’d ! 
 
 Th’ indictment charg’d him — ah! his luckless 
 doom!— 
 
 With stealing plans from Alexander's Tomb. § 
 
 unblushing effrontery, at the most exorbitant price, is almost 
 beneath contempt. ’Tis good, however, perhaps, that the 
 follies and vices of the u great vulgar” should be subject to 
 exposure by the base profligacy of the 66 small.” S. S. 
 
 t Pyrrhus, an experienced general, after one victory, said 
 that such another would be his ruin. H-gh-es, that expe¬ 
 rienced bookseller, is reported to say, that another such 
 beating will make his fortune. S. S. 
 
 • Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igne. 
 
 Vjug. Mn. 6. 742. 
 
 $ See note at the end of the Ode. 
 
22 
 
 But oh ! what horror seized his guilty frame* 
 When, as at Stamford, still the same, 
 
 In witness-box, his face before, 
 
 Stood Mister Bl-re! 
 
 Ah who shall paint,* 
 
 Trembling and faint, 
 
 The count’nance of the culprit Knight ? 
 But—as the Court was going to pass 
 Sentence—the braying of an ass 
 Awoke him in a fright! 
 
 He rubb’d his eyes—he rang his bell— 
 
 The sweat drops down his temple fell —f 
 
 * Whether this vision of Sir R. P. is to be ranked only 
 among the cegri somnia (as by the ivory gate seems in¬ 
 tended)—or was in truth a preternatural spectacle—could 
 the poet for a moment doubt about the choice of a painter 
 if he had seen the pictures of F-s-li ? S. S. 
 
 i Sudor fluit undique rivis, Virg. 
 
23 
 
 The vision press’d his conscience sore,—- 
 He almost thought he still saw Bl-re! 
 
 What mortal knight dares do, he dares,* 
 
 So wash’d, shav’d, dress’d, and ran down stairs; 
 (But first around his neck, ye Graces! 
 
 His golden chain he duly places; f ) 
 
 There, by the breakfast-table, sat, 
 
 Stroking with gentlest hand the cat, 
 
 The chief of traveling Knights, I warrant, J 
 And who, in truth, was a knight-errant: 
 
 * (6 I dare do all that does become a man.” Macbeth . 
 
 f This must be a slight error of our poet, as it is well 
 known to those intimately acquainted with him, that Sir 
 R. P. always makes a point, whether dressed or undressed, 
 of wearing his gold chain, duly considering that, in the eye 
 of the law, his magisterial capacity, and, of course, his ma¬ 
 gisterial honours, exist by night as well as by day. Hence 
 I have heard it suggested that Lady P. may one of these days 
 be happily delivered of a little sheriff, with a gold-chain and 
 all its paraphernalia complete. S. S. 
 
 X (C Chief of domestic Knights and errant.” Hudibras. 
 
24 
 
 With loving haste. r 
 
 The Knights embraced,* 
 
 And all Sir R-ch-rd’s cares seem’d o’er*. 
 
 66 The Stranger’s” stories now he hears-—. 
 
 The jokes raise mirth, the pathos tears—r 
 He thinks not now of B1 re ! 
 
 * c Travel, travel, gentle Sir! 
 
 6t The ladies all applauses purr— 
 
 < c Another quarto, by next spring, 
 
 6e Will be, Sir John, the very thing; 
 
 6i Thy wire-wove, hot-press’d, tales and jokes 
 
 , 
 
 “ Are daintiest relish for fine folks.” 
 
 Then Sir John C-rr, him answ’ring, said, f 
 66 Thou first of Booksellers, alive or dead ! 
 cc Be it thro’ water—be it thro’ fire— 
 c: I’ll go whereeveryou desire.” 
 
 * O qui complcxus, et gaudia quanta fuerunt! Hor. 
 
 t Tov ^’a7ra//,EijSojL(.Hvo5 7rgoos<pv> -Hom. Iliad . 
 
 iji Argti'fiv) K'jS;<7Tf, avaf otvSguv, Ay«//,e//.vwy. Ibid, 
 
25 
 
 The worthy pair* then fell a stuffing, 
 
 Each, with his compliments and muffin. 
 
 An equal glory share the rival Knights, 
 
 Sir R-ch-rd publishes what Sir John writes! t 
 What can Sir R-ch-rd’s fame excel— 
 
 Lov’d by the sister arts so well ? 
 
 Music by Doctor B-sby speaks his praise;—« 
 Poesy greets him in pindaric lays;—- 
 Painting his high deserts shall nobly crown, 
 And give his portrait to th’admiring town. 
 What matchless dignity and grace 
 Beam thro’ the canvas of that face ! J 
 
 * -animae neque candidiores 
 
 Terra tulit IIor. Sat. 1. 5. 
 
 + Alas ! since this was written, another quarto of Sir 
 John’s Travels is advertized to be published—but not by 
 Sir R-ch-rd ! What hath caused a division between such 
 dear friends I know not. S. S. 
 
 + Every reader must see that this alludes to the portrait 
 of Sir R. P. which appeared in the Exhibition this year.— 
 
26 
 
 ce An eye, like Mars, to threaten and command;—. 
 
 “ His cheeks are as red as a rose;— 
 
 66 He looks like a” Knight of high degree, 
 
 66 When dress’d in his” Sheriff’s 44 clothes!” 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sound your tympans, pressmen all, 
 
 Beat, each printerVdevil, his ball, 
 
 Thump-ity, thump— 
 
 Dump-ity dump— 
 
 Quick let it rise, quick let it fall! 
 
 See, see! 
 
 Tis He, 
 
 The mighty master of you all! 
 
 I have heard that it was at first intended to paint Sir R. P. 
 in his state coach and four horses, with his coachman, pos¬ 
 tillion, and footmen in their orange liveries ; but as the 
 Royal Academy allows room for only two square yards of 
 canvas to one picture, Sir R. P. was reluctantly obliged to 
 make the most of himself, and cut as great a figure as he 
 could, without his equipage. S. S. 
 
Ye that write books, ye that bind, 
 
 All creatures of the letter’d kind. 
 
 Together meet 
 In N-w Br-d-e Street, 
 
 To sing Sir R-ch-rd’s praise \ 
 
 Ye Stars proclaim 
 His matchless fame, 
 
 In Doctor B-sby’s lays 1 
 Rise, Sir R-ch-rd—Sir R-ch-rd Ph-lhps rise! 
 Be-dubb’d, be-prats’d, be-paragraph’d, arise ! 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 As a supplement to the above sublime Ode, I have thought 
 it but justice to the incomparable author, as well as to the 
 character of the Hero, and the convenience of the Reader, 
 to subjoin a few passages from a valuable work, inti tied 
 
 4C Mr. Blore's Statement of a Correspondence with R - 
 
 P -, Esq. Sheriff , Sfc. Sfc. 4’C.” which will tend much 
 
 to illuminate the pindaric obscurity of some of the allusions. 
 
28 
 
 Mr. Blore takes his motto from the book of Genesis — 
 
 cc This one fellow came in to sojourn, and he will needs 
 be a Judge. Genesis , xix. 9. 
 
 It seems Mister P-, (for he was as yet no more) was 
 
 introduced to Mr. Bl-re at Stamford, and the conversation 
 naturally turning to literary subjects, the mention by Mr. 
 Bl-re of an intended periodical publication on the subject of 
 
 Antiquities, (£ filled Mr. P- with raptures , and he was 
 
 66 eager to embrace a connexion with Mr. B— in such an 
 
 undertaking.” 
 
 During this visit, Mr. B. says, u Mr. P-had taken 
 
 i( no other pains to make me sensible of my insignificance 
 <e than by the display of his own importance, the history of 
 C( city-dinners, and a warm description of his prospect of 
 (( state-coaches , maces , and gold chains .” 
 
 Oil Mr. P.’s return to London, he immediately set to work 
 to make Mr. B. a Public Character; and, accordingly, in 
 
 * Let the Stars bear witness to the consummate ability with which Sir 
 R. P. discharges the magisterial and judicial functions of his high station. 
 
 “ Liclor. For look you, one so newly warm in office 
 
 Should lay about him blindfold, like true justice, 
 flit where he will: the more ye whip and bang, Sir, 
 
 (Tho’ without cause—let that declare itself hereafter) 
 
 The more ye are admir’d. 
 
 e * Geta. Nay, I will be angry; and the best is, I need not shew my reason- 
 
 Lictcr. You need not, Sir; your place is without reason.” 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's Prophetess , Act 2, 
 
his Monthly Magazine , he informed the world, that C( Mr* 
 c ‘ B. of Stamford, the accuracy and diligence of whose re - 
 u searches as an antiquary are well known to the public, 
 u has long been engaged in preparing a History of the 
 u county of Rutland,” &c. 
 
 Mr. Bi-re notices this puff , (for so he unfeelingly calls 
 Mr. P.’s elegant eulogium) only to protest against any con¬ 
 cern in its publication. 
 
 In July, Mr. P. writes to Mr. B. that c ‘ he calculates 
 a much on his assistance, (in the proposed Magazine) and 
 u on the drawings, &c. of his son.” In another letter, 
 Mr. P. kindly hints, that, £i if Mr. B.’s son came to town 
 cc for a month, We might find him a month’s work in the 
 u Abbey, Museum, and other places,” and adds, that (i one 
 (( subject in the 1st Number, will be The Sarcophagus op 
 <( Alexander.” In his next epistle, Mr. P. writes thus: 
 
 u Dear Sir, 
 
 66 You will essentially serve me, if you will per- 
 4( mit your truly ingenious son to make a drawing of the 
 Ci Sarcophagus of Alexander, three-fourths of the heighth 
 6i and length of that in plate I. of the inclosed *■— and so to, 
 u vary the drawing , as that we may not he accused of 
 “ PIRACY” ! ! ! 
 
 In October, the 1st Number of the Antiquary’s Magazine 
 * Egyptian Monuments, published by Longman and Co. 
 
So 
 
 appeared, but Mr. P. having (as Mr. B. says) broker* 
 his promise with regard to the mode of publication, the 
 latter wrote a letter of remonstrance. To this u Mr. She - 
 
 u riff P-” (he had just attained this dignity) in his 
 
 answer, stated that 61 he could find none but church-yard 
 and pot-de-chambre antiquaries, for such the society ap - 
 u pears to be composed of .” Mr. B. replied, that u he 
 feels perfect contempt for the coarseness of sentiment and 
 <c filthiness of language, which constitute this specimen of 
 
 6i his Worship's capacity for 6 the insolence of office.’-” 
 
 Mr. Sheriff P-rejoius, that 66 the antiquarian specu- 
 
 fiC lations, about which Mr. B. wastes his time, are not 
 6C worth , when committed to paper , a farthing by the cart 
 6i load —that his learning may perhaps have astonished the 
 u parish clerks , and gained him the compliments of the 
 ct Rutland Literati —but that he (Mr. B.) may plume him - 
 u self on his (Mr. Sheritf P.’s) notice —and he finally ad- 
 6t vises him to quell the insurrection of vanity which has 
 Ci taken place in his soul.” 
 
 Upon this, Mr. B. comments in a style, which certainly 
 evinces a sad deficiency of respect for so great a public 
 character as Mr. Sheriff P. then was—(to say nothing of the 
 additional greatness that he hath acquired since)—Mr. B. 
 it should appear, is so rapt up in the rust of antiquity, that 
 he has no admiration for the heroes of modern times. Hear 
 his gothic sentiments— 
 
31 
 
 cc The magnificent remains of the taste, the skill, and the 
 ic splendor of our ancestors, the monuments and the por- 
 u traits of legislators, who have improved the jurisprudence 
 of their country; of divines, who in the midst of fire have 
 maintained the purity of religion; and of patriots, who 
 have fought and bled in the defence of their laws and li- 
 
 a berties ; are far below the standard of Mr. P-’s ideas 
 
 cc of excellence in art, or of veneration for the sake of 
 cc morals. And yet I am stupid enough to prefer such 
 iC things,—nay even the }3ropitietu^ SDeu# on an old tomb , to 
 a the most gaudy triumphal car that can ever be built for 
 
 (( Mr. Sheriff P- - in Long Acre , and puffed through 
 
 iC half a page of a daily paper.” 
 
 Strange! that so barbarous a taste should exist in this 
 enlightened age! S. S. 
 
ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 S-MU-L Wh-tbr-d, M. P„ 
 
 ftigumcnt, 
 
 The Poet alludeth to Mr. Wh-tbr.d’s genealogy—likeneth 
 him to his great ancestor Pym —complimenteth his elo¬ 
 quence, at the expence of his porter—a rhetorical pheno¬ 
 menon—hinteth at the proper place for such an orator, 
 and compareth Mister W. to Orpheus—mantua-makerS 
 and milliners hail him as the champion of humanity—the 
 Poet interrogated Mr. W. and talketh of a tub—a simile 
 from the brewery—difference between beer barrels and 
 gallipots—a strong reason why Mr. W. should be made a 
 Lord—the poet turns herald, and maketh out a coat of 
 arms—exaltcth learning above honour—noticed, en 
 passant , the Fellows of All Soul’s College—invoked 
 Master Richard Lancaster—seeeth a glorious sight, and 
 Mister W.’s future fame—compareth him to a Prince of 
 Syracuse—and concluded with a promise. 
 
 Printed by S. A-and H. Odily, 
 Oxford-street. 
 
ODE 
 
 Hail ! Samuel, mighty man of Beer ! 
 
 Descended from the round head Pym*— 
 And who, as clearly doth appear. 
 
 To all beholders. 
 
 On thy shoulders. 
 
 Hast got just such another head as him : f 
 
 * Mister S-mu-l Wh-tbr-d, the elder, took great pains 
 to trace his pedigree, in order to bear arms, like a gentleman. 
 
 never heard that he got higher than Mr. Pym, of whom the 
 curious reader may find some information in Dr. Grey’s notes 
 on Hudibras. Like the far famed Knight, he was one of 
 those, who 
 
 u Quarrel with minc’d pies, and disparage 
 <c Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge ; 
 u Fat pig and goose itself oppose, 
 u And blaspheme custard thro’ the nose.” 
 
 S. S. 
 
 + The blame of this blunder in syntax, is plainly attru 
 butable to Mr. Pym , and not to our poet* 
 
 For those who write in rhyme must make 
 The one verse for the other’s sake. 
 
 D 
 
 W. Lewi», Print«r, PaternoMer-Kcw. 
 
34 
 
 A Presbyterian Whig * was he— 
 
 There too thou’rt like, as pea to pea. f 
 For talking loud, Pym was admir’d— 
 
 For talking folly, held inspir’d ;— 
 
 Something like is thine eloquence, 
 
 Which shews stong lungs, if not strong sense. 
 (Would that thy porter were as strong. 
 
 How well it would deserve a song !) 
 
 Rumbling upon the Commons’ drowzy ear. 
 
 It pours its noisy tide of words along ; 
 
 Tho’ loud, not deep; tho’ shallow, yet not clear; 
 And then most rapid, when most in the wrong. 
 
 * The Whigs were so called, at first, from a liquor in 
 common use among the Scotch Presbyterians, which is de¬ 
 scribed as “ very sour.” This is also alluded to in the 
 old saying, “ as sly and sour as a Presbyterian.” S. S. 
 
 + Our poet probably had in his recollection Sylvester 
 Daggerwood, who tells us, that master Dagger wood, a 
 
 charming youth, was u as like his papa as two peas.” 
 
 S. S. 
 
35 
 
 Of C-nn-ng’s eloquence, they swear. 
 
 It never thunders, but it lightens; 
 
 And the full Senate’s loud clap ff Hear ! " 
 Follows the flash that Faction frightens: 
 
 Thy oratory, the more to raise our wonder, 
 
 (Quinctilian perhaps might deem it but a blunder) 
 Without the lightning, furnishes the thunder ! 
 How would thy noisy pow’r of words delight 
 The British Forum * on a Thursday night ! 
 
 * A celebrated School of Oratory, where city mercers, 
 men-milliners, and managing clerks, legal and mercantile, 
 are properly qualified for the bar, the pulpit, and the senate. 
 Gentlemen, who have no impediments of speech, and are 
 blessed with a flow of words, may earn, genteely, from 
 five shillings to half-a-guinea a night, according to the length 
 of their orations. They have also the privilege of intro¬ 
 ducing their friends and relations, male and female, free of 
 expence. The qualifications for a chairman are much higher; 
 he must have clean linen, and (if possible) a white waist¬ 
 coat; he must not squint; (slight deafness is no objection) 
 but above all, he must have a pair of the largest and 
 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 Fit rival there of Thelwall or Gale Jones, 
 Another Orpheus, * * softening stocks and stones: 
 
 blackest eyebrows, which may instantly frown down folly 
 and impudence, when they continue on their legs longer than 
 the time allowed. S. S. 
 
 * Those who are deeply versed in classical learning, need 
 not be informed that Orpheus was not a fiddler , as is com¬ 
 monly represented, but an orator ; and that the poet, wishing 
 to shew his power over the mob, represents him, by an easy 
 metaphor, as moving the stocks and stones. The story of 
 Eurydice is generally supposed to be allegorical, and to 
 mean nothing more than that Orpheus, having lost his place 
 as Prime Minister, tried to regain it, by appealing to the 
 lowest populace, or, as the poet tells the tale, by descending 
 to the infernal regions— 
 
 Si Superos nequeo superare, Acheronta movebo. 
 
 There are persons who affect to see a resemblance between 
 Orpheus and some modern statesmen, who, like him, they 
 say, have cast many a u longing, ling’ring look behind” at 
 their lost Eurydice; and, despairing of regaining her, have 
 become, if not u most musical,” certainly u most melau- 
 choly.” S. S. 
 
31 
 
 There of French fevers tell a piteous tale. 
 
 While ev’ry list’ning milliner turns pale ;— 
 
 “ Let them have Jesuits’ Bark/’ you whimp’ring 
 cry,— 
 
 Each sobbing sempstress wipes her wat’ry eye ; 
 
 Of hate towards Nap your hearers all disarm-1 
 
 i n g^— 
 
 Their bowels of compassion so alarming, 
 
 The mantua-makers sigh—dear man, how 
 charming ! ” J 
 
 But tell me, truly, honest Sam, 
 
 Is not thy patriotism a sham , 
 
 A tub thrown to deceive a whale ? 
 
 If—on the Cath’lic rocks ne’er stranded. 
 
 Safe in the Upper House you’d landed. 
 
 Of a tub, methinks, there’d been a diff’rent 
 tale. 
 
38 
 
 Thro* clouds of passion, thy vast views are clear. 
 Thou foam’st a patriot to subside a Peer.* 
 
 Thy frothy hogs head f will run o’er with words, 
 ’Till safely bottled in the House of Lords. J 
 
 * The great misfortune of writing Anno Domini , one 
 thousand eight hundred and eight, and Anno Mundi , six 
 thousand and odd, is plainly this,—that, as an ingenious 
 Frenchman observes, let an author hit upon however good 
 a thought, ’tis more than ten to one, but somebody hath 
 blundered upon the same before him. In the present in¬ 
 stance, those unacquainted with the originality of our Poet, 
 might imagine that he had copied the idea from those lines 
 of Pope: 
 
 t( Thro’ clouds of passion, Pult’ney’s views are clear, 
 
 <c He foams a patriot, to subside a peer.” 
 
 S. S. 
 
 + I am in some doubt whether this should be printed as 
 two monosyllables, or as one dissyllable. Let the critics 
 
 in syllables decide. S. S. 
 
 r 
 
 * Our immortal poet seems, in this instance, to have paid 
 too implicit credit to the idle suggestions of certain news- 
 
39 
 
 tc A Porter-brewer a Lord !—-how queer ! ” 
 And, pray, why not. Sir Arch-Mac-Query ? 
 Was not Lord Sid— that famous peer,— 
 
 The son of an apothecary ? 
 
 Honour may flow as fast, there’s no denial. 
 
 Thro’ a large bung-hole, as a little phial : 
 
 Why mayn’t a peer be made from malt and hops 
 Well as from jalap, squills, and nettle-tops ? 
 
 A new-made Lord would smell as sweet, I wot. 
 From a beer-barrel, as a gallipot. 
 
 Sam’s wife’s a Lady , and upon my word, 
 Samuel, her spouse, by right, should be a Lord . 
 
 paper editors, who declared that the Talents were about to 
 recommend a new batch of Peers, and among the rest, Lord 
 Wh-tbr-d, Baron of Ch-sw-11 Street. I have the best 
 reason for believing, that Mr. W. himself never once thought 
 of such an honour, being resolved to continue to the end 
 of his days, a simple gentleman. S. S. 
 
40 
 
 Let his arms be 
 Dray horses three. 
 
 Rampant upon a field d’argent; 
 
 For a crest put 
 AA empty butt. 
 
 Turn'd topsy-turvy, right side wrong; 
 
 Two carmen, with two frothy pots of porter. 
 
 Will make, each one, an excellent supporter ; 
 
 And for a motto , sure he can't desire 
 One more appropriate than— Whitbread's 
 Entire." 
 
 But what is honor without knowledge ? 
 
 Only fit for All Souls’ College.* * 
 
 Learning, we know, outshines by far 
 The Peer’s, and e'en the Prince's star ! 
 
 i 
 
 * By the Statutes of All Souls (as every Oxonian knows) 
 every Fellow must be 66 bene natus, bene vestitus, mediocri - 
 S( ter ductus .” 
 
41 
 
 “ When house and land are gone and spent. 
 Then learning is most excellent; ” 
 
 And, by the self same rule, it stands. 
 
 That they should learn who have no lands. 
 
 Then come my muse, and Dick Lancaster, 
 And ev’ry other great schoolmaster ! 
 
 Pray, help me, in a soaring lyric. 
 
 To sing sage SamueTs panegyric. 
 
 O ! what a glorious, wond’rous, sight. 
 
 To see a whole nation read and write ! 
 The school-room Sal’sburv plain shall be,— 
 Sam Wh-tbr-d on Stonehenge shall sit,— 
 Penn’d round like sheep the scholars see,—■ 
 And in the dust their letters writ. 
 
 Great would-be Lictor of the nation ! 
 
 Thy rod, like th’ ancient Fasces, fear’d; 
 
42 
 
 All at their books, in ev'ry station. 
 
 Would doff * their hats, when you appear’d ? 
 
 Then “ Samuel Whitbread/' rightly spelt. 
 
 And copied fairly down. 
 
 Would give wiseacres joy heartfelt. 
 
 In every country town : 
 
 How would each clod-pate and each clown. 
 Thy badges on. 
 
 Thy primmers con. 
 
 And shew forth thy renown ! 
 
 Methinks, methinks, thy future fame I see. 
 
 Thou patron of great A and bouncing B ! 
 
 The Prince of Syracuse, like you. 
 
 Would rule a state, and keep a school; 
 
 But fit to manage men how few! 
 
 While most are fit to flog a fool. 
 
 * Per elipsin for do off, i. e. take off. S. S. 
 
43 
 
 And easier far you'd find, I ween. 
 
 To whip the little boys who make a racket. 
 Than when, sage Sam, with “ blund'ring” spleen. 
 You tried to beat the noble Scotchman's jacket. 
 
 Farewell, dear Sam, and when you're made a Lord* 
 I’ll write another Ode, upon my word: 
 
 In the mean time. 
 
 Take this poor rhyme— 
 
 Of all your great admirers the most fervent. 
 
 I am your most obedient 
 humble Servant, 
 
- 
 
 f ?• i ' : r Uxi\\ I 
 
 ./ j .! ;... i /; 
 
 -$ 
 
 ' 
 
 *•3 • • ' I . 
 
 * 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
A 
 
 FRIENDLY ADMONITORY 
 
 ODE 
 
 To Mr. W. Rosc-e, 
 
 LATE TWELVEMONTHS M. P. FOR L-V-RP-OL. 
 
argument. 
 
 The Poet condoleth on his loss, and adviseth temperance— 
 pathetically lamenteth the fall of the Talents, and dis- 
 suadeth his friend William from pamphleteering—maketh 
 a simile, and compareth William to a wiseacre—declareth 
 his respect for grave historians—and hinteth at the pro¬ 
 per horse for such to ride—adviseth his friend to take an 
 airing with his nurse—concludeth with a friendly ad¬ 
 monition. 
 
ODE 
 
 Dear William, tho' you’ve lost your seat,* 
 Pray keep your temper, if you can— 
 Revenge, I know, is very sweet. 
 
 But suits it with your Christian plan ? f 
 
 * When u The Talents” got into power, thinking that 
 Mr. R’s talents had hitherto been hid in a napkin, they re¬ 
 solved to set it up in high places, and so made him into an 
 M. P. When seated in the House of Commons, Mr. R. seemed 
 to form his conduct on that wise saying of the Greeks : 
 
 xukus ay.&ziv jc|s ,icrcov n Xsys.iv > caxw?, 
 
 or,* as our worthy English forefathers expressed it: 
 
 <c The least said is soonest mended.” 
 
 For the Speeches that Mr. R. did not make, see Parlia¬ 
 mentary Register, passim. For his speeches intended to 
 have been spoken, consult Chaucer •Godwin's Life of him 
 (to be written and published some years hence), in which 
 you will doubtless be told both what he did not say, and 
 ^hat he might have said. S. S. 
 
 + Of what sect of the Christian Religion, Mr. R. is a 
 member, I never heard. He dresses like a Quaker , talks 
 like a Methodist , and writes like a Muggletonian. S. S. 
 
48 
 
 Besides, I own. I’m much in doubt. 
 Whether for vengeance this the hour ; 
 Your friends, alas \ are all shut out 
 From popularity and pow’r ! 
 
 And tho’ you shed much gall and ink. 
 
 And brandish high your grev-goose pen. 
 cc The Talents” all begin to think. 
 
 You ne’er can write them in again. 
 
 O 
 
 Had you not better, my dear Billy, 
 
 Cease to perplex your honest brains. 
 Lest wicked wags should say you’re silly. 
 To take your labour for your pains ? 
 
 Ill luck betide the day you quitted 
 Hist’ry, and ran a-pamphleteering ! * 
 
 * Mr. R. who had hitherto been known to the world as a 
 worthy, pains-taking compiler of history, no sooner found 
 
49 
 
 A race for which you’re little fitted,, 
 
 Witness the world’s confounded jeering ! 
 
 himself shut out of Parliament, than he began to turn his 
 attention seriously to politics. In order to take as compre¬ 
 hensive a view as possible of public affairs, he retired to a 
 small village in Lancashire. There he made a vast survey of 
 the Continent, and, like Friar Bacon’s head of brass, spoke 
 of time past, present, and to come. In a critical hour, his 
 aweful 66 Considerations” made their appearance in public. 
 The friends of the Talents triumphed. The work, as Mr. 
 Fox said of Sir Phillip Francis’s speech, was unanswerable — 
 that is, as Mr. Fox himself explained his own meaning, 
 u until it was answered.” Serious thoughts were enter- 
 tertained in the higher circles, that Mr. R.’s force of argu¬ 
 ment must drive the present Ministers from their places—the 
 Ministers themselves were in a sweat—when lo! Master 
 William Cobbett stept forth, and audaciously dared to prove 
 tha t Master William R-sc-e had told only a pack of fibs, and 
 deserved nothing better than a whipping for his pains. Altho’ 
 he had pledged his credit that Napoleon is a very good tem¬ 
 pered, obliging, little gentleman, nobody would believe him. 
 The ungrateful world fell a laughing to see the grave historian 
 £< perplexed in the extreme,” and the ministers began to 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 So have I seen a greybeard trying 
 To back a mettlesome young filly. 
 
 But, 'midst her flirting and high-flying. 
 
 Look rather shy and rather silly : 
 
 Till having lost his seat a-straddle,— 
 
 His stirrups gone,—his bridle breaking,— 
 He quits the honours of the saddle. 
 
 In a mud ditch his safety seeking : 
 
 i 
 
 Then whooping, hallooing, how the boys 
 Run to the spot to see poor master,— 
 
 congratulate themselves that what they had at first mistaken 
 for a lion, turned out an animal of a less terrific description. 
 Mr. R. is said to have published another political work , 
 which T have not seen. But I am told, that as a politician, 
 his writings are semper idem ,—that is, as Swift translated 
 it, u worse and worse.” Ah ! le pauvre homme. S. S. 
 
51 
 
 With their loud laughter and curs'd noise. 
 Making much worse the dire disaster. 
 
 Take thou a hint, dear William, do,—- 
 The case just suiting you know who. 
 
 I would not, I, for any “ Considerations/' 
 See grave historians in such situations. 
 
 Stick still to your old hackney mare 
 Of hist'ry, an please 'e 
 Her jog-trot suits 'e to a hair— 
 
 She carries safe and easy. 
 
 Or if a frolic fancy hit,— 
 
 Without much danger or much trouble. 
 
 Behind Nurse Tansiello you may sit— 
 
 Your Peg will safely carry double. 
 
 £ 2 
 
52 
 
 She ambles prettily, I vow— 
 
 Aye—you are on the right horse now. 
 
 In namby-pamby verse. 
 
 Let Nurse,* * 
 
 Teach Ladies to their Lords so dear. 
 
 To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer/* 
 
 But skittish politics, dear Billy, shun 
 For ever: 
 
 O! never 
 
 Be made again the wicked sport of fun. 
 
 * u The Nurse,” a Poem, translated from the Italian 
 of Tansielloy by Mr. W-ll.am R-sc-e. 
 
 * 
 
ODE 
 
 THE FAM11Y. 
 
 Homines non numerandi sed ponderandi .—Vet. Dict. 
 
argument. 
 
 The Poet divideth Statesmen into heads and tails:—Enlargeth 
 philosophically on the latter, which leadeth to a pane, 
 gyric on the Gr-nv-lle family—Asketh a question of a 
 Goddess — Praiseth the state-politics of the Talents— 
 Quoteth a vulgar saying, and talketh of fools—Digresseth 
 to Lord T-mp-e, with a hint of his wisdom and piety.— 
 The Poet lamenteth over the fate of his country, and 
 foretelleth that the Ministerialists must go to pot—Ad- 
 dresseth a Lady in' office, and requesteth her necessary 
 assistance—Singeth the labours of the Opposition—Their 
 devotion to Magna Charta —Prophecieth the Family’s 
 future fame, and hinteth at the birth of a posterior 
 Minerva. 
 
ODE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE FAMILY* 
 
 By Wisdom’s sons ’thas oft been said 
 “ A Statesman should have a long head ; ” 
 And lately ’twas opin’d by some, 
 
 That he should have too, a large b-m. 
 
 * Veter Plymley proposes that we should call the noble 
 Secretary of State for the Home Department, (C our Lord 
 Hawkesbury.” And as long as he so ably fulfils the duties 
 of his honorable, but laborious station, and devotes his days 
 and nights to the service of his country, we shall be proud 
 to call him, as we really think him, u our’s.” The mem¬ 
 bers of the noble House, who are the subject of our Poet’s 
 present Ode, certainly merit the same title, tho’ in a sense 
 somewhat dilferent. The whole Family are ours , because 
 we pay for them. Some grumblers, iodeed, affect to say, 
 
56 
 
 Then let us sing immortal Rollo’s * race, 
 
 T’whose matchless b-ms all other b-ms give place ! 
 
 Say, Cloacina, maid divine. 
 
 As they’re bending o’er thy shrine. 
 
 And of various scents and sizes. 
 
 Offer down their sacrifices, 
 
 that eighty thousand a year was more than their talents 
 were worth, even in office, and that it is doubly hard 
 to pay the same sum, and get nothing in return but 
 opposition-speeches. From this sentiment I totally dif¬ 
 fer, and am inclined to think that the nation, more gene¬ 
 rous perhaps than just, would rather pay them for their 
 speeches than their measures. We should all, I am sure, 
 lament that the forms of official drudgery should curtail any 
 of u our” Lord Gr-nv-lle’s orations, three hours long, on 
 which the House, like a lover, hangs so enamoured,—and is 
 ready, with the fond Statira, to exclaini— 
 
 u Then he will talk—ye Gods! how he will talk.” 
 
 S. S. 
 
 * “ The family of the Granvilles, Grienvilles, or Grin- 
 C( viles, are a younger branch of the Grenevyles, descended 
 “ from Hollo, the first Duke of Normandy .”—DebreWs 
 Peerage. What a subject for a second Rolliad! I wish our 
 incomparable poet would turn his thoughts that way. 
 
 s. s. 
 
57 
 
 Which is of all thy suppliants, declare. 
 The greatest Statesman— a la clerriere ? 
 
 To their vast talents and their weight 
 Who can due honour give ? 
 
 Did they not save our sinking state. 
 And bid us laugh and live ? 
 
 State-politics, at their desire. 
 
 Were turn'd into a farce; 
 
 Their military schemes hung fire,— * 
 Their fiscal hung an a—se.f 
 
 Yet still it is affirm'd by some, 
 
 A head is better than a b-m : 
 
 * Vide Egypt and Buenos Ayres . S. S. 
 
 + Even the financial sprightliness of Lord H-nry P-tty ? 
 could hardly keep the ways and means moving. S. S. 
 
58 
 
 Such politicians hold, I find, 
 
 " Man hath no eyes to see behind ;— 
 
 “ Noses * * * § in embrio there may lie, 
 f<r But what’s a nose without an eye ? 
 f<r The broadest bottom’d Lord may pass, 
 
 “ E’en with his head on, for an ass ; 
 
 To flogging bum-proof, while at school, 
 Prove fundamentally a fool.” 
 
 Not so Lord T-mp-e, who so wise doth prove. 
 So fam’d for eloquence and v«?. 
 
 The hopeful darling J of his mother’s love— 
 The pride of B-ck-ngh-m’s great house ! § 
 
 * Id esty u supplemental noses.” See Hudibras, Cant. 1. 
 
 S. S. 
 
 % See a picture in the print-shops, in titled u His Mother’s 
 Darling,” a striking likeness. S. S. 
 
 § Meaning, of course, the (C great house” at St-we. 
 
 S. S. 
 
59 
 
 From his dear mother he inherits 
 A portion of her Cath’lic merits: 
 
 And as a Cath’lic did beseem. 
 
 When he left his lofty station. 
 
 He fobbed * off foolscap—many a ream— 
 For works of supererogation. 
 
 Alas ! alas! 
 
 What's come to pass ? 
 
 How sad is our condition ! 
 
 Sing, sing a stave 
 O’er Britain’s grave— 
 
 The Family” are all in opposition ! 
 
 * This expression is not to be taken literally, as tho’ 
 the noble Lord’s fob were really large enough for a sta¬ 
 tioner’s shop,—but figuratively, for c/am, secreto , latenter. 
 
 S. S. 
 
GO 
 
 With such ponderosity of pension 
 Fth* opposite scale, I deem. 
 
 The Ministry, the Treas’ry bench on. 
 Must quickly kick the beam. 
 
 Sweet Madam Wr-y,* 
 
 Assist, I pray. 
 
 * Privy keeper to the House of Lords.—However some 
 modern demagogues may exclaim against useless places and 
 sinecures, they must allow the plea of state-necessity for 
 this. From the nature of her official situation, Mrs. W. is 
 a great adept in parliamentary business. She has been 
 heard to remark, that in the whole course of her attendance, 
 she never remembers so many motions to have been made as 
 in the present Session, nor so great a quantity of papers laid 
 up for the use of the House. This lady has, by long and 
 nice observation, attained to such delicacy of perception in 
 her necessary functions, that it is positively affirmed, she 
 can invariably point out the person from whom every motion 
 comes, altho’ not present at the time. Somewhat in t]?e 
 
61 
 
 (Cease for a while your close devotions) 
 Help me, ere you shut the door, 
 
 In the Upper House and Low’r, 
 
 To sing their multifarious motions. 
 
 same way, we may suppose, as Swift , describing the various 
 streams of mud and mire that poured down Snow-hill in a 
 City-shower, mentions, that connoisseurs well-versed in a 
 knowledge of the town, could tell 
 
 u What street they came from by their sight and smell.” 
 
 Those of an atrabilious cast, she generally attributes to Lord 
 L-ud-rd-le—-the hard and costive to Lord Gr-nv-lle, or Lord 
 G—y—the soft to Lord H-ll-nd, or Lord S-dm-uth. Their 
 motions however, tho’ so frequent, have of late been rarely car¬ 
 ried thro’ the house, so that she has only had an opportunity 
 of hearing them by report. She speaks very feelingly of the 
 melancholy situation of Lord E-sk-ne, who is so troubled by 
 flatulence, that he was lately constrained, without coming 
 to any regular motion, to give his disorder vent in a long 
 and loud protest. His physicians incline to attribute his 
 lordship’s unhappy malady to the being shut out from his 
 accustomed exercitations in the Court of King’s Bench. I 
 
62 
 
 Night after night they loudly bawl— 
 
 I envy much their hearers’ situations— 
 For papers, papers, still they call, 
 
 I%rhaps to hide thpir own evacuations.* 
 
 W-ndh-m and Sh-rry, 
 Grave and merry,— 
 
 * 
 
 would seriously advise him to practice on the dumb-belles ,* 
 and to abstain as much as possible from reading the American 
 papers, or meditating on the American funds. Let him 
 carefully avoid high living, lest, like his great predecessor, 
 the Athenian lawyer, Demades , he fall (as his biographer 
 quaintly expresses it) u a prey to his belly and wanton 
 u desires.” S. S. 
 
 * Videlicet ,—at the Dardanelles, in Egypt, and at Buenos 
 Ayres. S. S. 
 
 * Is not this a mistake in orthography ? Printer's Devil. 
 
63 
 
 From their heads fly squibbing speeches; 
 But the loudest noise. Ma’am, comes 
 From the broader-bottom’d b-ms. 
 Who let off mines from their big breeches. 
 
 By ev’ry speaker’s frank confession 
 ’Thas been a very hard bound session. 
 
 Sure ne’er such parliament’ry pother 
 And,—so at least I’ve heard some say— 
 The Members and Reporters pray 
 
 There never may be such another. 
 
 But, whether the nation wins < r loses. 
 
 What care The Family’ a f-rt—a ? 
 
 To make as many motions as he chuses. 
 
 Is a true Briton’s Magna Charta. 
 
 To the east, the west, the north and south. 
 Sure Madam Fame, in windy weather. 
 
64 
 
 From her upper or her lower mouth, * 
 
 Will trumpet “ The Family” together. 
 
 While at each op'ra, rout, and ball. 
 
 The footmen, coachmen, chairmen all. 
 
 Shall cry aloud— fC make way, here comes 
 “ The Noble Family of B-ms ! ** 
 
 From Jove's hard head, by hard knocks parted. 
 Each schoolboy knows, Minerva started;— 
 
 If Wisdom's goddess from The Family” come. 
 Most probably, she’ll issue from their b-m.* 
 
 * Every reader of Hudibras knows that Fame hath two 
 mouths 
 
 + That this idea is not so heathenish as some persons 
 might at first imagine, will be evident to every surgeon who 
 has heard of the case that lately occurred in this metropolis, 
 of a young gentleman, still born, who was found to have a 
 perfect foetus in his b-m. What sort of a Christian this 
 
65 
 
 little ex port facto supernumerary might have turned out, 
 nobody can tell. Some poor folks at a distance, I am told, 
 were seriously alarmed on hearing of the circumstance, 
 fearing that if 44 The Family” should take to breeding in 
 this manner, and bring forth little expectant placemen, 
 pregnant with other little expectant placemen, not all the 
 reversions in his Majesty’s disposal could possibly long 
 •suffice to make them all 44 ours.” S. S. 
 
 F 
 
. 
 
 . 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ODE 
 
 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 Lord St-nh-pe 
 
argument- 
 
 The Poet sheweth that Lord S-maketh out Pope a liar— 
 
 praiseth the universality of his Lordship’s genius—com. 
 pareth his Lordship to Apollo and Hercules—commemo. 
 rateth the wonderful effects of his eloquence, and com- 
 passionateth the fate of poor Lord H-wk-sb-ry—men. 
 tioneth the great ends for which his Lordship was born, 
 and hinteth at what may be expected from such a head. 
 
ODE 
 
 ff One science only will one genius fit/' 
 
 So said poor Pope, who boasted nought but wit. 
 To Pope your Lordship gives the lie,, 
 
 And proveth most convincingly, 
 
 (Most wond’rous, tho’ most veritable !) 
 
 That you, my noble Lord, are able. 
 
 Between the rising and the setting sun. 
 
 To do a hundred things as well as one. 
 
 Whether you launch ships fit to sail 
 With their heads foremost or their tail; * 
 
 * See an account of a late expedition on the Serpentine ? 
 published by the diurnal historians. The Serpentine, his 
 Lordship declared to all the land-admirals present, answered 
 his purpose quite as well as the Pacific Ocean. S. S. 
 
70 
 
 Whether you printing-presses make. 
 For any but the Printer's sake;— * 
 Whether you logic manufacture. 
 
 To serve in case of the head's fracture. 
 Proving that all good reas’ning lies 
 Merely in manual exercise ;—f 
 
 * His Lordship has got a patent for a printing-press, the 
 merits of which are as yet latent, the printers conceiving 
 that its ingenuity far surpasseth its utility;—and that it is 
 called a printing press, on the same principle as lucus a non 
 lucendo. S. S. 
 
 + The newspapers, some years ago, mentioned that his 
 Lordship had invented a mechanical logic , or art of reasoning 
 in wood. Some universal syllogisms were neatly fitted up 
 in a small box; by means of which, a tyro in logic might 
 demonstrate by hand the most difficult problems in morals 
 and metaphysics. The progress that just reasoning would 
 have made from such premises may be readily imagined; 
 but the scheme proved abortive, owing to a base combination 
 of schoolmasters; who believing that, if it became preva¬ 
 lent, it must infallibly ruin their trade, to the great increase 
 of carpenters, spread abroad infamous reports that it was 
 
71 
 
 Whether you music make or physic. 
 Tune a guitar or cure a phthisic 
 Whatever you do, whatever you follow, 
 f<r Eris mihi Magnus Apollo * * 
 
 The world thy labors wond’ring sees. 
 And hails thee a second Hercules,— 
 But great Alcides ne’er could do 
 One half such clever things as you: 
 Appearing unto men and maids— 
 
 A perfect Jack of all Trades ! 
 
 the invention of a gentleman -who had lost his wits. I am, 
 however, inclined to think that it is still in private use, as 
 several late speeches, in both Houses of Parliament, have 
 contained many symptoms of reasoning by the box . S. S. 
 
 * The lover of Euphony will take care to pronounce this 
 line with due emphasis— 
 
 E-ris mi-hi mag-nus A-pol-lo. 
 
 S. S. 
 
72 
 
 Whether as Chancellor or Speaker, Eldon 
 Hears you address him, does he not cry well 
 done; ” 
 
 While lords and lawyers,* like so many leeches. 
 Hang all enamoured, sucking in your speeches, f 
 How plain you shew’d the blund’ring House, 
 
 The Ministers’ logic was mere chouse,” J 
 
 * I have heard that Sir Samuel Romilly and Mr. Richards 
 think his Lordship no wit inferior to the learned Knight 
 immortalized by Butler — 
 
 For he a rope of sand could twist 
 As tough as a learned Sorbonist, 
 
 And weave fine cobwebs fit for scull 
 That’s empty, when the moon is full. 
 
 + Hie omnes sine dubio , et in omni genere eloquentice , 
 procul d se reliquit. Quinctil. lib. x. c. 1. 
 
 J This, and the following words between inverted com¬ 
 mas, are taken literally from one of his Lordship’s speeches 
 lately delivered in the House. Parliamentary Register , 
 April, 1808. S. S. 
 
73 
 
 While H-wk-sb’ry, struck by your forty-eight 
 pounder, 
 
 * c Was laid on his back as flat as a flounder/’ 
 
 To thee, the Bar and Senate bow with awe 
 “ Born to teach bishop’s gospel, judges law ! ” 
 Sure some Minerva, from thy pregnant pate 
 (Grant it, kind Heav’n ! before it be too late!) 
 Will soon step forth to save our sinking state ! * 
 
 * Our poet seems by this to suppose that Lord M—h—n 
 (who was born in the natural way) is not destined to save 
 the estate of the nation : whether or no he may prove able 
 to save his own, is quite another affair. S. S. 
 
. 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 fr- 
 
 '' 9 N 
 
 ' 
 
 ' 1 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 * 
 
 - - 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 Rev. Doctor R-nd-lph, 
 
 OF B * * H. 
 
argument 
 
 The Poet evinceth his acquaintance with classical learning, 
 
 and modestly extolleth Doctor R-’s excellence in letter 
 
 writing—commendeth his topics and his style—condoleth 
 on his banishment, and pathetically painteth his unhappy 
 fate—describeth his disorder, and the mode of relief— 
 commemorateth an immortal pair—pointeth out a noble 
 subject for biography—hinteth at the effects of envy and 
 spleen, in preventing preferment, and asketh a question 
 well worthy the attention of our ecclesiastial elders—con- 
 cludeth with a hint. 
 
ODE 
 
 Y* antiquated Ciceros and Plinys— 
 
 Ye Senecas, and such like pagan ninnies;— 
 
 All ye, who wrote so many silly letters, 
 
 fc Hide your diminish’d heads” before your betters ! 
 
 For epistolatory writing. 
 
 Doctor R-nd-lph is the man ! 
 
 Look at those of his inditing—* 
 
 Shew his equal, if you can. 
 
 * The Doctor, a very worthy man tho’ no conjuror, 
 lately published, what he called 66 A Few Observations on 
 the State of the Nation,” addressed in a letter to the Duke 
 of B-df-rd. It is therein declared, that we are in the last 
 stage of a mortal distemper, but ( ce laud we the Gods”) the 
 Doctor has a panacea in his pocket;—nothing less than the 
 paying off the national debt by a general contribution,—- 
 
78 
 
 Politics he sweetly blends 
 With his feelings for his friends: 
 
 To his dear country, and dear Lord,” 
 He gives alternately a word ; 
 
 the same scheme proposed some years ago by the Bishop of 
 Llandaff. To this there can be but one possible objection— 
 that the patient would inevitably be choaked, in attempting 
 to swallow the nostrum. Five hundred and fifty millions 
 of money to be immediately raised! Bravo! The Doctor 
 may well exclaim Evpwx :—if he can remove the debt in the 
 way he speaks of, Archimedes was but a baby in comparison, 
 who boasted that he could move our earth, if—he had another 
 to put his foot upon. The Doctor very pathetically de¬ 
 plores the late change of ministry, particularly on account 
 of poor dear Ireland, whither, it seems, he went as chaplain 
 to the Duke; and if he and his Grace had stayed but a little 
 longer, nobody can tell what good they might have done. 
 An Irish bishopric might have chanced to have fallen vacant, 
 and then u nolo episcoparij ’ construed according to the 
 most approved version, and (C Ego et Rex meus I and 
 
 my Lord Duke-Alas! good man, when all thy honours 
 
 were a ripening, to come a nipping frost! S. S. 
 
Now mourns the one,—the other praises,— 
 By turns our grief and wonder raises ! 
 
 Then for a metaphor, I vow, 
 
 There never was his like ’til now. 
 
 In ev’ry page a new one rises. 
 
 And this delights, and that surprises: 
 
 From trope to trope still see him Hying— 
 He cuts a dash, there’s no denying; 
 
 Thro’ sim’les thick and thin while hopping. 
 You’d think he ne’er intended stopping; 
 And, when he stops, you’re sure to find 
 The lazy meaning lagging far behind. 
 
 But ah ! his sorrows who shall tell. 
 
 Exil’d from Ireland, lov’d so well ! 
 
 Sent back to Bath—oh! what a pity—— 
 Banish’d from Dublin’s noble city. 
 
80 
 
 Bath delights him now no more,—- 
 E’en Laura * looks not as before ;—f 
 Her cushion now he coldly thumps. 
 
 And drawls his text out, in the dumps;— 
 
 No longer rouzes with emotion 
 
 His hearers’ hearts to warm devotion. 
 
 But leaves the stoves to fill each seat 
 With equable religious heat. 
 
 * Laura Chapel, where the reverend Doctor, by dint of 
 good lungs and an animated gesticulation, used to preach 
 his congregation into a heat, even in the depth of winter, and 
 vigorously prevented their falling into the arms of Morpheus, 
 notwithstanding the seductions of easy cushions and patent 
 stoves. S. S. 
 
 + Our Poet here beautifully paraphrases the motto to the 
 Doctor’s Epistle— u Nam plerisque mutatis , ea quoquc rnu~ 
 C( tat a videntur quce manent ,—” which literally done into 
 English , would run thus, <c For the Ministry being changed, 
 66 and 6 my dear Lord’ no longer Lieutenant of Ireland, my 
 u prospects of preferment seem changed also.” S. S. 
 
81 
 
 Thro’ the Pump-room, lo ! he wanders* 
 And on Dublin Castle ponders. 
 
 With step disorder’d see him walking. 
 
 With accents dismal hear him talking, 
 
 He lists the fiddles,—takes a glass 
 Of water,—and then lets it pass ;— 
 
 But nought his fond regrets can e’er abate. 
 Or soothe the sorrows of his hapless fate ! 
 His soul, surcharg’d with fC observation,” 
 Requires a quick evacuation;— 
 
 His pen with ink and words runs o’er,— 
 
 He fills a sheet, then calls for more ; 
 Discharging from his aching head 
 All he has ever heard or read; 
 
 He twists, he turns, he strives, he strains. 
 
 To ease the load upon his brains; 
 
 Then in a flood of figures vents 
 
 On his dear Lord” their whole contents ! 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 The Duke and Doctor—worthy pair !— 
 Our equal admiration share : 
 
 Tis difficult to say which is. 
 
 Of the dear twain, the greatest quiz.* 
 
 O R-nd-lph ! fail not to record 
 
 Each deed and word of your dear Lord ; ” 
 
 That at some future, distant day. 
 
 When Britain mourns him dead. 
 
 The world in wire-wove quarto may 
 Know all he did and said. 
 
 Then will each reader, in amazement crost. 
 Exclaim—oh! what a statesman*)* there was lost ! ■' 
 
 * u Vir bonus est quis.” 
 
 + His Grace’s u Talents,” as a Statesman, are too well 
 known to need illustration from my pen. Whether he be 
 as excellent a judge of sheep and oxen as his late brother, 
 
83 
 
 While thou, a 'patriot true, shalt think with pain. 
 On such a patron ne’er to look again. 
 
 It must. I’m sure, be envy’s work, or spleen. 
 That thou, dear Doctor, art not yet a Dean : 
 
 I feel myself incompetent to decide. The Doctor’s Epistle 
 was written to him during a Tour in the Highlands, whither 
 he went, I am informed, for the express purpose of having 
 ocular demonstration of the mode of foddering cattle, in use 
 among that sharp-sighted people. Some persons have af¬ 
 fected surprise that the Doctor did not accompany his 
 cc dear Lord” in this excursion, as well as to Dublin. But 
 they do not consider the difference of climate, and that the 
 shrewd, biting air of the Highlands, where there is not a 
 single deanery or episcopal palace to shelter one from the 
 inclement weather, might very ill have agreed with the reve¬ 
 rend Chaplain’s constitution. Let us be thankful that the 
 Duke took so far a journey, in order to enable the Doctor 
 to write so long a letter; and that, while his Grace was 
 making profound observations on the agriculture of the 
 Hebrides, his chaplain was making observations no less pro¬ 
 found on the politics of Europe. S. S. 
 
84 
 
 And where, I beg to know, can our Church fish up 
 A Doctor fitter to be made a Bishop ? * 
 
 But if preferment’s path you take, f 
 Dear Doctor take'a hint;— 
 
 * It was said by Bishop War burton of Dean Tucker , 
 that he was too good a Politician to make a good Divine. 
 Doctor R-nd-lph need fear no such rebuke from the Bishop 
 of Bath and Wells ; his Epistle is a satisfactory proof that 
 he is laudably ignorant on all those topics that come not 
 within the province of a Doctor of Divinity. S. S. 
 
 + Since writing a preceding note, I have been told by 
 those who know' the Doctor best, that no member of the 
 Established Church can have a more constitutional antipathy 
 than he has to a mitre and lawn sleeves; and that, were he 
 obliged, in deference to higher authority, to accept them, 
 the melancholy consequence would probably be, an inquest 
 of felo cle se , or non compos. Of this temperament were 
 many holy men among the primitive Christians. Socrates, 
 the ecclesiastical historian, relates that Evagrius ran away 
 for fear of a bishopric, and that Ammonius cut olf one of 
 his ears to render himself incapable of it. II. E. 1. iv. c. 23. 
 
85 
 
 Long letters for your dear Lord's" sake. 
 Still write—but do not print.* * 
 
 At the present day, it might perhaps sound rather oddly, to 
 
 read in the B-th paper, that u On-last, the Reverend 
 
 <( Doctor R-was found by one of the vergers, hanging 
 
 u from the Episcopal stall of —.— Cathedral. The cause 
 (e of the rash act is said to have been a Conge dS Elire , 
 u lately issued.” S. S. 
 
 * Perhaps our Poet’s advice may not be much amiss. If 
 I remember right, this is the Doctor’s second exploit in the 
 epistolatory line. Has he forgotten the old saying ?— 
 
 Tempora mutantur - 
 
 ■■■ ■■ — - liter a scripta manet. 
 
 S. S, 
 

 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 / }> 
 
 
 . 
 
 ■ - * .will /'iohihMif) 
 
 
 
 
 
L 
 
 ODE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 Lord Gk-y, 
 
 (LATE LORD H—WI—CK). 
 
argument. 
 
 The Poet asked a question of infinite importance—la¬ 
 mented his Lordship’s late silence-commemorated his 
 singular modesty«=-talked of his mal, and concludeth 
 
 pathetically* 
 
ODE. 
 
 TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HON. LORD GR—Y. 
 
 \Yhere now,, I pray. 
 
 Is good Lord Gr—y ? 
 
 Is he alive, or is he dead ? 
 
 Or to Northumberland far fled ? 
 
 His voice I now can never hear 
 He has got the pip, I fear. 
 
 Since he has left the Lower House, 
 He’s been as silent as a mouse. 
 
 To the alarum of that tongue. 
 Which thro 5 the Senate loudly rung. 
 
90 
 
 What could have put a stop ? 
 
 Where hides he now those sable locks. 
 
 Whose scanty hair the barber mocks, 
 
 “ A melancholy crop ? ” * 
 
 How chang’d the man, since chang’d his name. 
 We scarcely know him for the same;— 
 
 * This line, at once so poetical, and so appropriate to 
 the noble subject of the present Ode, is evidently borrowed 
 from a beautiful little poem of Mr. William Wordsworth, 
 beginning thus— 
 
 u There is a thorn—it looks so old, 
 
 In troth you’d find it hard to say, 
 
 IIow it could ever have been young, 
 
 It looks so old and grey.” 
 
 The Poet proceeds to tell us—that, 
 
 66 Like rock or stone, it is o’ergrown 
 With lichens to the very top, 
 
 And hung with heavy tufts of moss, 
 
 A melancholy crop.” 
 
91 
 
 How alter'd evr’y feature ! 
 
 Discarded now from pow'r and place. 
 He seems asham'd to shew his face— 
 A modest, bashful, creature ! 
 
 C-nn-ng's fame and C-nn-ng's praise * 
 Perhaps his Lordship's envy raise,— 
 He hides his head for shame: 
 
 For, I've been told, he cannot bear. 
 His rival’s hated name to hear. 
 
 And sickens at his fame. 
 
 * I need not draw the contrast between the two Secre¬ 
 taries. Their measures have sufficiently done that. The 
 only serious charge I have ever heard made against Mr. 
 C-nn-ng is—that he can write epigrams, and has an infinite 
 deal of wit. Certainly no accusation of this kind was ever 
 brought against Lord H-w-ck. But if nature hath pre¬ 
 served him from the possession of so cc perilous” a gift, let 
 him (as honest Dogberry says) u give God the praise, and 
 u make no boast of it.” S. S. 
 
92 
 
 Alack-a-day, 
 
 For poor Lord Gr-y ! 
 
 Be this doleful ditty sung— 
 
 Poor Lord Gr-y has lost his tongue ! ” 
 
ELEGIAC ODE 
 
 TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 THE M-RQXJ-S OE B-GI>S, 
 
 ON A 
 
 late melantfjolg ©tent* 
 
 IMITATED FROM CATULLUS* 
 
 <( Quis desiderio sit pudor aut mo diet*. 
 c< Tam chari” Pigtail ? 
 
Ji3ote 
 
 * This Elegy was composed, after the M-s’s dis¬ 
 
 patches were received, containing a confirmation of the af¬ 
 flicting tidings. But as, amid the rapid succession of im¬ 
 portant events which, during the last year, took place on the 
 Continent, some of our readers may not have a clear recol¬ 
 lection of the circumstance alluded to, I subjoin a short 
 paragraph copied from the Times , which has always been 
 celebrated for the priority of its foreign intelligence, and 
 which, in the present instance, gave to our Ministers at home 
 the first hint; of the deplorable catastrophe. 
 
 From the Times, April 1, 1807.— 44 It is with unfeigned 
 44 regret that we this day notice a report which has just 
 44 reached us thro’ our correspondent at St. Petersburgh, 
 44 relative to an unpleasant occurrence personally con. 
 44 cerning the British Ambassador at that Court. We 
 44 would earnestly desire to avoid spreading ambiguous ru- 
 44 mours on such an occasion, but the facts come to us, 
 44 clothed with such an air of authenticity, that we are, 
 44 however reluctantly, compelled to give them credit. It 
 44 is confidently whispered in the highest Russian diplomatic 
 
 44 circles, that His Excellency the M-s of D- 1~ has 
 
 44 lost his T*** ! Neither the time when, nor the place 
 44 where, are mentioned, but strong hints are thrown out 
 44 as to the perpetrator of this gross violation of the laws 
 44 of nature and of nations. As dispatches from his Lord- 
 44 ship are daily expected, a short time will probably clear 
 44 up this mysterious affair. In the meantime, our renders 
 44 will see the propriety of our abstaining from any further 
 44 comment.” 
 
ELEGIAC ODE* 
 
 O Venus and all ye fair Graces bewail 
 The loss of the M-rq-s of D-gl-s’s T**l! 
 
 His t**l is cut off, f and is now gone for ever;— 
 Ah ! sure such a p-gt-il before was seen never: 
 So stiff and so strait, and then, oh ! such a size. 
 To the M-s ’twas dearer by far than his eyes. 
 
 *- Funis Passeris —a Catullo. 
 
 Lugete o Veneres , Cupidinesque , 
 
 Et quantum est hominum venustiorum. 
 
 + Passer mortuus est mece puellce , 
 Passer deliciae meae puellae, 
 
 Quem plus ilia oculis suis amabat: 
 Nam mellitus crat, suamque norat 
 Ipsa tarn bene quam puella matrem. 
 
96 
 
 On his back hung so graceful this long queue of 
 hair,* * * § 
 
 * 
 
 As he danc’d how it bobb’d up and down, here 
 and there :—f 
 
 Such a p-gt-il no Plenipo ever display’d— 
 
 Nought e’er could withstand it, wife, widow, or 
 maid. 
 
 Now dissever’d by Russians, so brutish, in twain. 
 
 This prince of p-gt-ils we shall ne’er ;ee again : J 
 
 Perhaps destined to stuff some vile carrier’s pack- 
 saddle § 
 
 On which to Siberia he bumps it a-straddle. 
 
 * Nec sese a grerrdo illius movebat; 
 i Sed circumsiliens mo do hue modo illuc , 
 
 Ad solam Dominam usque pipiabat. 
 
 + Even the saving virtues of u MockrifuschJcy’s Russia 
 u Oil so famed for restoring the tails of horses and asses, 
 have been applied, alas! in vain, to repair the M-rq-s’s 
 irreparable loss. S. S. 
 
 § Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum 
 Illuc, unde negant redire quenquam. 
 
97 
 
 On the Northern Barbarians* may the French 
 disease fall—f 
 
 May Napoleon confound them—bears, barbers, 
 and all ! 
 
 His p-gt-il so noble they’ve ravished away— J 
 
 The M-s he groans, sighs, and cries, “ lack-a- 
 
 “ day,” 
 
 cf Dismal day ! 
 
 “ O my Ta—1 ! f 
 “ Oh ! ” 
 
 * At vobis male sit , males tenebree 
 Orci , quae omnia bella devoratis: 
 
 + This expression is not to be mistaken for the common 
 prosaic curse of 66 pox take ’em,” but poetically alludes to 
 the foul political disorder, which has destroyed the con. 
 stitutions of all the Continental powers, owing to th«ii 
 French connexions. S. S. 
 
 + Tam helium mihi passerem abstulistis . 
 
 O factum male, o miselle passer ! 
 
 II 
 

 
 thctyfiL .0 ■ i ■ i u ■) . o 
 
 
 
 I * 70M 
 
 ” ••• . rS 
 
 . iflO Hi a— 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 ! ) JJ 
 
 
 
 :i : 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
EPITHALAMIUM 
 
 ON 
 
 JLOTRB AND LADY P***Y. 
 
' 
 
 * 
 
 ■s.o 
 
 
 
 I' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
EPITHALAMIUM 
 
 Ae* roij chcl&cri Seoi.* 
 
 Dict. Antiq. Gr^kc. 
 
 The Gods to little men give little wives. 
 
 Haste away— 
 Hymen^ pray,,— 
 
 * To the general truth of this ancient maxim, there was 
 once an unfortunate exception, in the case of Count B. a 
 Polish dwarf, 3 feet high, who not minding his Greek, mar¬ 
 ried by some mistake a lady 3 feet taller than himself; and 
 tho’ she contrived to have a pretty numerous family, it is 
 said that she did not always treat him on a proper level, 
 sometimes (if he unhappily displeased her) setting him upon 
 the chimney-piece, to the great danger of his neck. I trust 
 that Lord H. P. will be placed in no such distressing di¬ 
 lemma, but that he may find the matrimonial yoke lighter 
 and pleasanter than the ministerial, and never be put to a 
 nonplus to provide 66 the ways and means” of wedlock. 
 May his Lordship go down the dance, withouthe or his fair 
 partner making a false step, and when the music’s over, and 
 the ball at an end, let this be inscribed on their tomb: 
 
 <£ Here-rest, quite tir’d of worldly state and strife,— 
 
 * c A little statesman and his little wife.” S. S, 
 
102 
 
 To Doctors’ Commons * quickly go,— 
 
 Registrar see,— 
 
 Pay the fee,— 
 
 And thence a licence take, heigh oh ! 
 
 Out of town. 
 
 Ride post down 
 To my little Lord Ilch-st-r,«— 
 
 Sweet Str-ng-w-ys 
 At M-Ib’ry stays. 
 
 Sighing ’til thy sight hath blest her. 
 
 Bid the Vicar 
 Leave his liquor. 
 
 And attend with book of pray’r,— 
 
 Bid his clerk, drest 
 All in his best. 
 
 Ready with “ amen” be there. 
 
 * Hymen and Doctor’s Commons! Doth not our Bard 
 rather confound Pagan with Christian rites and ceremonies? 
 But probably he has got a poetical licence for it. S. S. 
 
t 
 
 103 
 
 Thither bring. Sir, 
 
 A small ring,—Sir, 
 
 i 
 
 Let it closely fit her finger;— 
 
 Bid the people. 
 
 From the steeple. 
 
 Pull a merry peal, each ringer. 
 
 Lady Betty * * 
 
 Weds Lord P***y — 
 
 Who with P***y can compare ? f 
 
 * Bett-y per metathesin pro Luc-y. 
 
 + The great sense Lady P-entertains of her Lord’s 
 
 excellent qualities is prettily shewn in the following tender 
 Sonnet, which she is frequently heard singing, accompanied 
 by her guitar. I hare looked through the 6C Elegant Ex¬ 
 tracts” in vain for the name of the author, and therefore 
 suppose it to be the love-impassioned production of her 
 Ladyship’s own muse. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 “ I have a little husband, no bigger than my thumb, 
 
 “ I put him in a pint pot, and there I bid him drum; 
 
 * f I’ve bought him a little handkerchief to wipe his little nose, 
 “ And a pair of little garters to tie his little hose.” 
 
104 
 
 So clever he— 
 
 So pretty she— 
 
 What a pretty little pair ! 
 
 After wedding 
 Comes the bedding,* * * 
 
 A young P***y soon there’ll be;—f 
 
 * For a poetical description of the bedding, see Catullus’s 
 cpithalamium of Julia and Manlius, from which, as the 
 classical reader must already perceive, many of our poet’s 
 most beautiful passages are imitated. Si S. 
 
 O cubile, &c. 
 
 Quae tuo veniunt here, 
 
 Quanta guadia, quae vaga 
 Nocte, qua media die 
 Gaudeat! 
 
 * Ludite, ut Iubet, et brevi 
 
 Liberos date: - 
 
 Torquatu? volo parvulus , <Sfc. 
 
105 
 
 \ 
 
 In his lap. Sir, 
 
 Giving pap. Sir, 
 
 The Ex-Chancellor you’ll see. 
 
 Then he’ll chatter— 
 
 What no matter— * 
 
 \ 
 
 Dance and sing to little laddie ;— 
 
 * Our poet here, I think, does not display his usual accu¬ 
 racy of judgment, as every philosopher who knows any 
 thing of education, must be aware of the effects of early 
 associations, and consequently of the importance of pro¬ 
 viding proper subjects to be said or sung to young ladies 
 and gentlemen in their early days. Mister W—11—m It—s- 
 coe, familiarly known among his friends by the title of 
 <c Nurse R—sc—e,” is at present busily engaged, during 
 the intervals of his political researches, in preparing a beau¬ 
 tiful collection of poems for the nursery, to be intitled 
 u Lullabies for political Babies,” after the manner of 
 u Mother Goose’s Melodies.” They are to be dedicated 
 to Lord H-y P-y, for whose use they are more par¬ 
 
 ticularly intended. I have been favoured by a friend w ith 
 the following exquisite specimen,— 
 
106 
 
 With what joy, sir. 
 
 Kiss the boy, sir. 
 
 If he be but like his daddy ! ” * * 
 
 There is scope, sir. 
 
 For good hope, sir. 
 
 Future senates then may see. 
 
 With one accord, 
 
 A little lord. 
 
 No less a statesman than Lord P.! 
 
 To the Tune of cc 0 my kitten 
 
 ce O my P—tty, my P—tty, 
 
 And O my deary, my deary— 
 Such a sweet little Lord, 
 
 Was never seen far <>r neary! ” 
 
 * Sit suo similis patri 
 
 -, et facile insciis 
 
 Noscitetur ab omnibus. 
 
107 
 
 How he’ll dance, sir. 
 
 Thro’ finance, sir. 
 
 In figures outdo Pitt and Neckar— 
 Never yet, sir, 
 
 I will bet, sir. 
 
 Such a Chanc’lor of tlT Exchequer ! 
 
 FINIS, 
 
 W. Lewis Printer, 
 Paternoster-row. 
 
Of h <pon:b 11 m v/oTI 
 . * < • Vria. lOoxnirift’oirfl ■ • ;f$g£ 
 ♦i.rboli ban )fW ob);:o co’xnqS nt 
 
 Oila *to'( r iovoH 
 Oiia ,1qd IIiv| I 
 
 a ■'! 
 
 onvuu ; 
 
 ^ ariivf fliwar ( .'XX 
 * v/ot •iolauaiolu'-C