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[Page 45]
'Tis so loathsome that no English taste could abide it,
Had not P---R had in Latin the prudence to hide it.
So Lovers, who practise the arts of deceiving,
Finding those who are flatter'd, too fond of believing;
Take care when they season their compliments high,
That none but the person they flatter be nigh.
On this principle, P---R, who in Nature is learn'd,
Conceal'd it from all but the parties concern'd.
In the 45th page, it is sadly lamented,
That the Gentry of England are much discontented,
To find themselves forced in the House to sit down
With men of no family, rank, or renown.
Great part of the Senate is made up of Jobbers,
According to P---R, and of Callico Robbers.
And he thinks, at the entrance, a Porter should stay,
To tell the new Senators which is the way.
As P--R could to SHERRY give no dedication
For want of a book-he made full compensation
By declaring, that numberless QUALITIES join,
Essential to make that great Orator shine;
And the first proof thereof which the Pedagogue brings
Is, that SHERRY has very great knowledge of THINGS;
He has also a knack at satirical joking,
At making short answers, and very provoking;
With learning (alluding perhaps to the STAGE)
Such as Gentlemen have in this elegant age.
But the DOCTOR has candour enough to admit,
That among all the ARMY which fight under PITT,
With SHERRY to match not a Soldier is fit.
Nay, tho' PITT talks apace, without tripping or halting,
SHERRY beats him to nothing, at cutting and salting.
SHERRY soon tripp'd up GRENVILLE, whose glory and pride
Is having a fall unsuccessfully try'd.
All the talents which NORTH, FIX and EDMUND have got,
According to P---R, fall to SHERIDAN'S lot:
Like FOX he is subtle, ingenious, and bold--
Like BURKE he can spout forth a FOUNTAIN of Gold,
And like NORTH with urbanity, rattle and scold.
When the DOCTOR had got no more Butter to spare,
'Twas divertingly curious to hear him declare,
That without the least view to his dignity raising,
'Twas truth, and truth only, that set him a praising;
To truth you must think him extremely devoted,
As he has not a wish for the being promoted:
And to show himself truly impartial and right,
In PITT he discovers one spot that is white.
For when on the CHURCH an attack was intended,
And her rights, by LORD NORTH, were as bravely defended--
PITT'S eloquence also came into her aid,
Which serv'd as NORTH'S Lacquey, or young Chamber-maid.
And now, my Dear BROTHER, with P---R I have done,
And, perhaps, 'twere as well had I never begun;
For I find, on inquiry, among learned men,
His Book was ne'er heard of by nine out of ten;
And among the few people that heard of its name,
Not one part in ten has look'd into the same;
And I firmly believe, in this light-reading age,
Not a man in ten thousand could drug through a page.
AUNT BRIDGET to her NEPHEW SIMON in WALES.
World Oct. 2. 1789
DEAR SIMON, last night thro' the City was spread
A report, that the Orator EDMUND was dead;
It seems that some cutting satyrical jokes
Were meant for JOHN STILES, or his Relative NOKES.
In the WORLD of last Tuesday, which BURKE from a whim,
Or conscience, supposed were directed at him-
Giving way to the Vapors, and sorrowful thinking,
Five days he neglected his eating and drinking;
And growing diurnally thinner and thinner,
'Twas concluded that Death was in want of a Dinner:
And thence the ill founded report, I suppose,
Of his being in ABRAHAM'S Bosom arose.-
When I first heard the news, I am free to confess,
It fill'd my shock'd Soul with the deepest distress;
The prospect of being the Orator's Second,
Upon which SIM and I have so frequently reckon'd,
Disappear'd in a moment-but now, my dear Boy,
The pleasing idea once more I enjoy;
BURKE lives, and no longer gives way to dejections,
From the late Patriotic and sad Recollections.
And whilst my fond Soul in the prospect rejoices,
Let my Nephews and Nieces all clear up their voices,
And sing to the Harp the New Song which I send,
In praise of Impeachment-its Brother and Friend.
IMPEACHMENT.
A NEW SONG,
To the Tune of "A Noble Race was Shenkin."
COME listen ye jovial Topers,
You shall hear Impeachment's wonders;
BURKE'S foaming froth, and ADAM'S wrath,
And FOX'S sputt'ring thunders.
Impeachment is all the fashion,
The game all Patriots drive at;
To make us sport in open Court-
And at least as much in private.
Impeachment's a Royal Science,
And BURKE Professor Regius;
Of the very first class for Brogue and Brass,
Speech-Doctor most egregious.
Impeachment's Bard is SIMKIN,
Sworn Managerial Puffer;
Alert to trim their Lights when dim,
The Trial's Candle-snuffer.
Like a line of Cackling Goslings,
Who after an old Goose paddle,
Close at EDMUND's Bum the Managers come,
Some strut, some walk, some waddle.
First CHARLEY, the hope and glory
Of Publicans and Sinners;
Whom Shopmen feast, from Tax releas'd,
With greasy City Dinners.
At his heels follows fast a Champion,
Whose Friends may rue his vigour;
Tho' now of one mind in one cause join'd,
CHARLES has felt he can pull a Trigger.
Then a fiery Oxford Scholar,
With no mean erudition;
Of reas'ning full, yet never cool,
A passionate Logician.
Next he, in whose young entrails
Smart SIMKIN raised compunction;
And made him quit, by force of wit,
The Bottle-holding function.
After him that sage Equestrian,
Who to prove his heart not callous,
Wept, whin'd, deplor'd, sobb'd, sigh'd, and roar'd,
For a Scoundrel choak'd on the Gallows.
Then another fierce Cavalier
Comes straddling across the Benches,
With a vulgar face, and coat all lace,
To captivate the Wenches.
Next the long, leaden, lank, lean visage
Of that pride of Scottish gentry,
Who a tale begun, when all seem'd done,
That would only last a Cent'ry.
But who's that old mumping Satyr,
With a pair of dead eyes in his vast head?
Thinks he these Mouth-quarrels will plant fresh laurels
For those Saratoga blasted?
The remnant of the rubbish
We omit, for who can tell 'em?
Meer make-weight chaps to stop up gaps,
N****, T******, L***, and P******.
Meer soft good-natur'd creatures,
Just call'd to pass in muster;
For mouth they've got, yet utter not,
And tongues that never bluster.
Oh,-what a sublime collection!
Some prone to spout loquacious;
Some, when there's need, starts up to read-
Some only look sagacious.
But of Orators past and present,
None e'er like BURKE was clever;
Be it right, be it wrong, he'll talk all day long,
And at night be as fresh as ever.-
When the Court wearied out with quibbles,
For fact and proof is pressing;
BURKE, firm as a Rock, sustains the shock,
And gives the PEERS a dressing.