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Like a tragedy queen he has dizen'd them out,
His fools have their follies fo loft in a crowd
Here Douglas retires from his toils to relax, The fcourge of impoftors, the terror of quacks: Come all ye quack bards, and ye quacking divines, Come, and dance on the spot where your tyrant reclines,
When fatire and cenfure encircled his throne,
I fear'd for your fafety, I fear'd for my own;
Macpherson write bombaft, and call it a style,
The Rev. Dr. Dodd.
Mr. Kenrick lately read lectures at the Devil tavern, under the title of The School of Shakespeare' James Macpherson, Efq; who lately, from the mere force of his ftyle, wrote down the first poet of all antiquity. ¶ Vide page 200.
§ Vide page 200.
Detection her taper fhall quench to a spark,
And Scotchman meet Scotchman and cheat in the dark.
Here lies David Garrick, defcribe him who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man; As an actor, confeft without rival to fhine; As a wit, if not first, in the very first line : Yet, with talents like thefe, and an excellent heart, The man had his failings, a dupe to his art. Like an an ill-judging beauty, his colours he spread, And beplaster'd, with rouge, his own natural red. On the stage he was natural, fimple, affecting; 'Twas only that, when he was off, he was acting. With no reafon on earth to go out of his way, He turn'd and he vary'd full ten times a-day: Tho' fecure of our hearts, yet confoundedly fick, If they were not his own by fineffing and trick: He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack,
For he new when he pleas'd he could whistle them back.
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
you got what you
* Vide page 200.
+ Vide page 203.
Mr. Hugh Kelly, author of Falle Delicacy, Word to the wife, Clementina, School for wives, &e.
Mr. William Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chronicle,
How did Grub-street re-echo the fhouts that you rais'd,
To act as an angel, and mix with the skies :
Old Shakespeare, receive him, with praise and with love,
And Beaumonts and Bens be his * Kellys above.
Here Hickey reclines, a moft blunt pleasant crea
And flander itself muft allow him good nature:
Then what was his failing? come tell it, and burn ye,----
Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, He has not left a wifer, or better behind; His pencil was ftriking, refiftlefs and grand; His manners were gentle, complying and bland; Still born to improve us in every part,
His pencil our faces, his manners our heart :
* Vide page 204.
+ Vide page 200. Ibid.
To coxcombs averfe, yet moft civilly fteering,
When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Corregios and
He shifted his trumpet, and only took fnuff.
* Sir Joshua Reynolds is fo remarkably deaf as to be under the neceffity of ufing an ear trumpet in company.
OCTOR! according to your wishes,
Serv'd up a fentimental treat
Of various emblamatic meat:
And now it's time, I trust, you think,
To Douglas, fraught with learn'd ftock Of critic Lore, give ancient Hock;