Soon as through Paris the fad tale was spread
That number'd Marat with the mighty dead,

Forth rufh'd the fea-nymphs from their filthy cells, 35 With frantic fury and terrific yells.

His breathless corpse they bathe in tears of brine,
Sharp tears, and genuine, as from juice of mine!
Quick to our fhore the direful found is blown
And treafury fcribblers echo moan for moan.
Marat is dead-ah! what avail our lies,
Stopt is their teeming fource when Marat dies.
Ne'er at his name, loud bellow'd forth by Pitt,
Their peaceful fields contented boors fhall quit,

40

this entire line, on account of the pun which it contained; but we rely upon the fuperior good taste of the Under-Secretary for the prefervation of it in all the fubfequent editions he may print of this incomparable Eclogue; and to confirm him in the virtuous refolution here recommended, we beg he will confider that punning is fanctioned by fome of the highest authorities of antiquity. CICERO himself was no inconfiderable punster in his time; witnefs his famous line

O, Fortunatam, natam me coufule Romam!· And with regard to the fafety of this amufement, (which confidering the Under-Secretary's favorite occupa ion is by no means an object to be defpifed), we have the word of JUVENAL.

Nec unquam

Sanguine caufidici maduerunt roftra pufilli. SAT. X.
The hand, or ears, were never loft, of those
Who dealt in doggrel, or who punned in profe.

Ver. 28.] Or BEAUCHAMP's dinner.

DRYDEN,

Why BEAUCHAMP? does not all the world know that his name is no longer BEAUCHAMP but YARMOUTH? Was it for this that he quitted his friends after nine long, long years of tedious oppofition? Was it for this he was drawn by fix white horfes into Mayence? Is it for this he receives four thousand pounds per ann. to be drawn out again by faid white horses? To be called BEAUCHAMP! Me thinks we hear him in his own mild accents exclaim---" Oh fie Mr. RoSF.

Ver. 32 to 38.] Soon as through Paris.

Extin&tum nymphæ crudali funere Daphnim
Flebant: vos coryli teftes, et flumina nymphis;
Cum complexa fui corpus miferabile nati
Atque Deos, atque aftra vocat crudelia mater.

For

45

50

For finoaking ruins leave their fmoaking board,
Or pant to change the fickle for the fword.
Phrenzy no more shall rave of Sans Culottes
With air-drawn daggers brandifhed at our throats,
Of lifping infants at a gulp devour'd,
Or Paris virgins more than once deflour❜d.
Loud his fad death, ye kindred tygers, roar!
Loud his fad death, confederate kings deplore!
Mark-at his call the tyrant hordes advance,
Led by grim anarchy to plunder France,
They fix the chains his murd'rous hands prepar'd,
They hang the wretches whom his knife had spar'd;
Crime urges crime,-for blood fhall blood be fpilt,-
A nation's mifchief is a nation's guilt.

Mourn, fcribblers, mourn your occupation loft
"Twixt murder'd Marat and imprifon'd Froft;
Your useless ink-horns on his tomb reverse,
And your fplit goofe-quills fcatter round his hearfe.
Pile o'er his duft, ye Treafury pamphleteers,
From pillories fav'd, a hecatomb of ears;
With embryo paragraphs, a fhapeless heap,
With Chalmers refcu'd from eternal fleep;

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 51 to 54.] Loud his fad death, ye kindred tygers, roar!
Daphni! tuam Panos etiam ingemuifje lecnos

Interitum montefque feri fylvaque loquuntur,
Daphnis et Armenios curru lubjungere tigres
Inftituit.

Yerfe 59 to 70. Mourn, fcribblers mourn.

Spargite humum foliis, inducite fontibus umbras,
Paflores: mandat fieri tibi talia Daphnis.

55

60

65

Et tumulum facite, et tumulo fuperaddite carmen!

NOTES.

2

Ver. 66.] Chalmers refcued from eternal fleep. Chalmers, a writer in the fervice of administration, and fuppofed to be joint author with Mr. Rofe of a certain pamphle written not long ago, and circulated by orders from the Treafury, highly and perfonally injurious to three illuftrious perfonages, and feveral of the most distinguished noblemen and gentlemen in the

country.

With Alfred's letters ftruggling into books,
Redeem'd from grocers, and defrauded cooks;
Swell the fad offering to his deathlefs praife,
-So Marat bids--and I will lend my lays.

ROSE.

70

75

Burgefs! the accents of thy potent profe,
More than thy metre scarce invite to doze;
Now ftretch thy ears-I fee thou haft them yet,—
For Marat lov'd my fong, and praised my wit.
Hung between heaven and hell there lies a space,
-Unbreech'd philofophy can tell the place,—
Hid from the fun, impervious to his ray,
Where metaphyfic light fupplies a doubtful day.
There rebel Chaos her laft poft maintains,
Save a fnug niche referv'd in Mitford's brains.
High on a throne great Marat fnatch'd from death,
Surveys from thence his precious works beneath; 80
Sees his own fire in holy York confeft,

And his own venom glow in Sheffield's breast;

Ver. 71.]

Fer. 74.1

Ver. 75 to 80.]

IMITATIONS.

Burgefs! the accents.

Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poëta,
Quale fopor feffis in gramine.

For Marat loved my song,

Amavit nos quoque Daphnis.

Hung between heaven and hell.

High on a throne great Marat, &c.
Candidi infuetum miratur limen Olympi,
Sub pedibufque videt nubes & fidera Daphnis.

Ver. 67.] Alfred's Letters.

NOTES.

A dull, tedious, infipid collection of Effays, firft published in a newspaper [we forget which], belonging to administration: So uncommonly ftupid, that many people fuppofe the under-secretary to have written them himself.

Ver. 76.] Unbreeched Philosophy.

The poet, doubtless in this expreffion, has his eye upon that immortal perfonage, Anacharfis Cloots, or the Orator of the Human Race, who ends one of his fpeeches to the National Affembly of France, with declaring-" Mon Coeur eft tout Francois, et mon ame eft Sans Culottes."

Sees

1

Sees cream-fac'd Stanley turn on Fox his heels,
And Lougborough gently touch-and take the feals.
He fees gaunt Richmond, not unus'd to fright,
85
Raife in Tower-ditch ten batteries of a night;
Where, watched by geefe, he braves prefumptuous Gauls,
Scar'd by bold Berkeley's cackle from her walls.
O, bend propitious, while my fong proclaims
Annual the feaft to thee with annual games!
Far to the Weft a Vandal city lies,

90

Whence caitiff fcience, whipt and banish'd flies,
Where high-church reason bids a loyal mob
Preach, pillage, argue, burn, convince, and rob;
There flame thy altars, there thy fhrine we raife, 95
While veftal poiffardes guard the facred blaze.
Thence fmile benignant on our harmless sports,
Nor fcorn the paftimes of anointed courts.
Firft in their ranks thy civic fons appear,
Reeves in the van, and Impey in the rear;

VARIATIONS.

Verfe 87, 88.] Originally these two lines flood thus:
With garrifons of geefe he mounts her walls,
With Berkeley's cackle fcares prefumptuous Gauls.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 89, 90.] O bend propitious!

Sis bonus o felixque tuis!

Ver. 95.] There flame thy altars.

En quatuor aras

NOTES.

Ver. 88.] Bold Berkeley's cackle.

100

This orator, whether to gratify any private pique of his own, or to pay his court to the Duke of Richmond, we know not, has lately given himself the air in the Houfe of Commons of faying impertinent things to Mr. Fox. In particular, he diftinguifhed himself last feffion, by an attempt to fix upon Mr. Fox fome connexion or correfponding intereft with the French General Dumourier. It failed, indeed, although nothing could be better in-' tended; and this noble Commander, as we may remember, was obliged to apologize for his misbehaviour. We are fupremely glad to hear that he is now employed on a fervice fo admirably fuited to his talents as that which is alluded to in this and the preceding line.

Spies, affidavits, dungeons, whips, and axes,
Sure war, fure want, fure death, and furer taxes,
March in their train; next Watfon, hapless elf!
Shark-bitten once, but now a fhark himself.
To the true homage by his leg he vows;
So fhall it never join its brother boughs,
Ne'er to the fun its leafy pride fhall (pread,
When once by artist smoothed to match his head!
Here, a lank troop with Porchefter advance;

105

There Tommy Tyrwhitt crowns the festive dance. 110

Nor

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 106.] So fhall it never join his brother boughs.
Ναὶ μὰ τόδε Σκηπῖρον, τὸ μὲν ἔ ποτε φύλλα και ὄξεις
Φύσει, ἐπειδὴ πρῶτα τομὴν ἐν ὄρεσσι λέλοιπεν,
Οὐδ ̓αναθηλήσει περὶ γάρ τά ἔχαλκὸς ἔλψε
Φύλλα Ἷε καὶ Φλοίον· νῦν αὐτέ μιν υςες ̓Αχαιῶν
Εν παλάμης Φορέασι δικασπόλοι, &c. c.

Hom. II. A.

Now by this facred fcepter, hear me fwear,
Which never more fhall leaves or bloffom bear,
Which fever'd from the trunk-

On the bare mountains left its parent tree;
This feepter, form'd by temper'd steel to prove
An enfign of the delegates of Jove.

Ver. 110.] There Tommy.

Ver. 104.

Sallantes fatyros imitabitur Alphefibaus.

NOTES.

Next Watson, hapless elf!

Shark-bitten one, but now a fhark himself.

POPE

Brook Watfon's adventure with a fhark is too well known to require any particular statement of it in this place. Some incredulous perfons, indeed, have imagined the whole ftory of our worthy alderman's competition with this voracious monster, to be allegorical. On the authority of the Rolliad, however, we beg leave to maintain the contrary; and we further take this opportunity of congratulating the public, on his late appointment to the lucrative poft af Commiflary to the British forces; a fituation in which we make no doubt, but that the worthy, independent, ci-devant member for the City of London, will foon contrive to be even with his old enemy, the fhark, and ready to attack him in his own way!

Ver. 109.] Here a lank troop with Porchefter advance.

Another mifnomer! Who does not know that Earl of Caer