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[Page 43]
For P-R'S Preface resembles a pantomine dish,
Made of all sorts of meat, of fowls, puddings, and fish.
Cujus enim dicentis ex ore Senatus quondam pendebat, illius jam oratio etsi nivibus hybernis simillima sit, sibi tamen au-dientiam vix ullam facit.
SIMKIN.
World Aug:19. 1789
PAR Pari Referto.
Much as this Writer may be the subject of general praise, seldom has he merited more to be so, than in the Letter below. The short description of DOCTOR JOHNSON and the DOCTOR in question, as two enormous pedants, is amongst the pleasantest things we ever read.
SIMKIN to his Dear BROTHER in WALES.
You tell me, dear SIMON, you relish the feast
I procur'd you from P-R, the political priest;
Now, since my Remarks correspond with your liking,
Let me add a few more, that are equally striking.
P-R tells us, the deluging language of Fox
Runs down from the mountain and tears up the rocks!
(And among other mad unaccountable pranks)
It blows up the bridge and runs over the banks -
And whene'er, in this manner, FOX happens to speak,
The minds are astonish'd of those that are weak!*
In the very next page, the mock Doctor is struck
With the horrors, at CHARLY'S long run of ill luck;
The past he considers a terrible curse,
But the future, he fears, will be fifty times worse;
He sees, at a distance, some storm that is brewing,
And likely t'involve the whole PARTY in ruin;
But what still increases the DOCTOR'S regret,
Is, that all honest men were with CHARLY upset. -
At length he observes, in the way of condoling,
The good Conscience of CHARLES must be very consoling -
And tho' at O'deina P-R constantly snarls,
He's indulgent enough to the foibles of CHARLES,
Who spent a good part of his youth in the stews,
Yet found himself MORE than a MATCH for the JEWS;
Peceadilloes, like these, P-R is pleased to insist
Cannot place his dear friend on the criminal list -
And the truth of that adage he strongly enforces,
That the wildest of colts make the finest of horses -
And the converse of this proposition the same,
Your horse proves a slug, if your colt was too tame;
And thence, as O'deina's not fond of a wench,
We must think him unfit for the Treasury Bench.
In page the fifteenth, the sad DOCTOR laments
That the PARTY sunk under the worst of events;
For, whilst they were using their utmost endeavour
To make themselves firm in their places for ever -
And when Fortune seem'd willing to grant all their wishes,
The PHILISTINES rush'd in, and laid hold of the fishes -
But tho' silenc'd just then, by regard for his bones,
He now may, with safety, give vent to his groans.
When the DOCTOR had storm'd and expended his rage,
By sighing and groaning for more than a page,
With profusion of logic, and deep erudition,
He began a defence of a late COALITION!
All those who condemn, says the learned Divine,
Wrap in high sounding words, elocution canine;
That is, they are house-dogs that watchfully bark,
When they smell out a thief, that would steal in the dark.
After all these hyperboles, laughably odd,
P-R should be created, a Father in God;
And CHARLES, when he can, must reward with a mitre
The merit of this panegyrical writer.-
DOCTOR JOHNSON, I've heard, with no stronger pretension,
Got from Administration the grant of a pension:
Of pendantry, HE, late egregious professor,
To P-R left the chair, as his rightful successor.
The first a a COLOSSUS, of straddle so wide,
As to spread o'er this globe, and whole systems beside -
The next, a COLOSSULUS, standing on pegs,
With all the dead languages under his legs -
The former knew more than will ever be known -
The latter makes Latin and Greek of his own.
*Page 13.
'Tis diverting to see how the DOCTOR can scold,
At nescio quis WILBERFORCE†, who was so bold
As to say, "that BURKE'S judgment had lost all its powers,
"And that time had destroy'd his rhetorical flowers."
Then O'deina comes in for his share of the blame,
For rashly presuming to echo the same,
Without being mov'd by confusion or shame.
But P-R'S of opinion, the most they can say
Is, that BURKE'S elocution begins to grow gray.
But now, my dear SIMON, 'tis proper and fit
I should give P-R'S remarks on O'DEINA or PITT.
His political course, when O'DEINA began,
P-R thought him a promising, decent young man;
But when, unexpected, he alter'd his tack,
From charmingly white, he grew frightfully black.
Now I think that the HERALD, or some other print,
Should give this forgetful young Statesman a hint,
That, black as he is, he might soon become whiter,
By giving the DOCTOR the next vacant MITRE.
How useful 'twould be in a political war,
To have such a militant Bishop as P-R,
Who, if OPPOSITION should venture to speak,
Would well cannonade them with Latin and Greek.
As PITT, has not many years quitted the College,
P-R thinks he must needs want political knowledge-
But this is a failing I should not suspect
In PITT, were it not for his shameful neglect
Of the merit of P-R, but this conduct at once
Proclaims him to be a political Dunce.
But 'tis time I should think of concluding this Letter;
And, perhaps, you would tell me, The sooner the better -
For the present I therefore will stay all proceeding,
Being heartily weary of writing and reading.
For tho', like our Welch Mountains, it catches the eye,
P-R'S preface, like them, is hard, barren, and dry.
When I take up the book, I can't possibly keep
My eyes for five minutes, from yielding to sleep.
But if no other subject occurs, MY DEAR BROTHER,
Upon this, I hereafter, must send you ANOTHER.
† Page 42.
World Aug:20. 1789
SIMKIN'S Irresistible ATTACK upon PARR.
On this amusing topic, CIVIS has sent a long Letter - from which nothing is deducible, but this apt motto, from SHAKSPERE:
UNEQUAL match'd-PYRRHUS at PRIAM drives-
With the whiff and wind of his fell sword,
Th' unnerv'd Father falls!
For the WORLD.
World Aug:27 1789.
The following clever Letter from MARGARET, in answer to her sister BRIDGET, is her first attempt -and it will not be her last, if she understands her own claims, as well as the PUBLIC favour shewn the other CONSPICUOUS persons of her FAMILY.
My dear sister BRIDGET, I'm quite shock'd to find,
By the Letter that yesterday you was so kind
To write me, concerning your MATTERS OF STATE,
That 'twas EDMUND whose PROWESS you long'd to relate. -
Now I really must hint to you, dear SISTER BIDDY,
That, at your time of life, a confession so giddy
As - "If BURKE was to offer, you could not withstand,
"For BETTER for WORSE - to accept of his hand,"
Is quite unbecoming your years, or your station,
And, if rumour'd abroad, a disgrace to your Nation -
For SIMKIN'S long Letters to SIMON I've read,
And partly from them, it has come in my head,
That this wonderful EDMUND, you all think so wise,
Perhaps is a Jesuit, here in disguise.
Now, that such an idea should cross me in WALES,
Where, we should be ignorant, but for your tales,
Of every thing passing beyond our own Vales,
Seems odd! - But the truth is, I have had a DREAM,
Which, at first, I thought merely occasion'd by cream
I had eaten for supper one night with a toast,
When a Letter of SIMKIN'S arrived by the post. -