Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came grave, What a commerce was yours, while [you gave? you got and How did Grub-street reecho the shouts that you rais'd, While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were beprais'd? But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies, To act as an angel and mix with the skies: Those poets, who owe their best fame to his skill, And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above.30 27 Vide page 67. 28 Mr. Hugh Kelly, author of False Delicacy,'' Word to the Wise,'' Clementina,'' School for Wives,' &c. &c. 29 Mr. William Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chronicle. 30 The following poems by Mr. Garrick, may, in some measure, account for the severity exercised by Dr. Goldsmith, in respect to that gentleman : JUPITER AND MERCURY. A FABLE. Here, Hermes, says Jove, who with nectar was mellow, Go fetch me some clay-I will make an odd fellow; Right and wrong shall be jumbled,—much gold and some dross; Here 31 Hickey reclines, a most blunt, pleasant creature, And slander itself must allow him good nature; Without cause be he pleas'd, without cause be he cross: Set fire to the head, and set fire to the tail : For the joy of each sex, on the world I'll bestow it, ON DR. GOLDSMITH'S CHARACTERISTICAL COOKERY. ARE these the choice dishes the doctor has sent us? 31 Vide page 64. Perhaps he confided in men as they go, He was, could he help it? a special attorney. Here 32 Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart: 32 Vide page 64. 33 Sir Joshua Reynolds was so remarkably deaf as to be under the necessity of using an ear-trumpet in company. POSTSCRIPT. AFTER the fourth edition of this poem was printed, the publisher received the following epitaph on Mr. Whitefoord,34 from a friend of the late Doctor Goldsmith. HERE Whitefoord reclines, and deny it who can, What pity, alas! that so liberal a mind Should so long be to newspaper essays confin'd! Who perhaps to the summit of science could soar, Yet content if the table he set in a roar;' Whose talents to fill any station was fit, Yet Happy if 36 Woodfall confess'd him a wit. 34 Mr. Caleb Whitefoord, author of many humorous essays. 35 Mr. W. was so notorious a punster, that Doctor Goldsmith used to say it was impossible to keep him company, without being infected with the itch of punning. 36 Mr. H. S. Woodfall, printer of the Public Advertiser. Ye newspaper witlings! ye pert scribbling folks! Who copied his squibs, and reechoed his jokes ; Ye tame imitators, ye servile herd, come, Still follow your master, and visit his tomb: To deck it, bring with you festoons of the vine, And copious libations bestow on his shrine; Then strew all around it (you can do no less) 37 Cross readings, ship news, and mistakes of the press. Merry Whitefoord, farewell! for thy sake I admit That a Scot may have humour, I had almost said wit: This debt to thy memory I cannot refuse, 38 Thou best humour'd man with the worst humour'd muse.' 37 Mr. Whitefoord has frequently indulged the town with humorous pieces under those titles in the Public Advertiser. On C. Whitefoord, see Smith's Life of Nollekens, vol. i. p. 338-340. See his poem to Sir Joshua Reynolds, ‹ Admire not, dear knight,' in Northcote's Life of Reynolds, p. 128. 38 When you and Southern, Moyle, and Congreve meet, The best good men, with the best natured wit.' C. Hopkins. v. Nicholls' Col. Poems, ii. p. 207. |