Such dainties to them their health it might hurt,
It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

While thus I debated, in reverie center'd,

An acquaintance-a friend, as he call'd himself—enter'd ;
An under-bred, fine spoken fellow was he,

And he smiled as he look'd at the venison and me,-
"What have we got here? Why, this is good eating!
Your own, I suppose- - or is it in waiting?

66

Why, whose should it be?" cried I, with a flounce, I get these things often"-but that was a bounce. Some lords, my acquaintance, that settle the nation, Are pleased to be kind-but I hate ostentation."

66

"If that be the case, then," cried he, very gay,
I'm glad I have taken this house in my way :
To-morrow you take a poor dinner with me;
No words I insist on 't-precisely at three ;

We'll have Johnson, and Burke, all the wits will be there :
My acquaintance is slight, or I'd ask my lord Clare.
And, now that I think on't, as I am a sinner,
We wanted this venison to make out a dinner.
What say you-a pasty? it shall, and it must,
And my wife, little Kitty, is famous for crust.
Here, porter-this venison with me to Mile-end :
No stirring, I beg—my dear friend- -my dear friend!"
Thus, snatching his hat, he brush'd off like the wind,
And the porter and eatables follow'd behind.

Left alone to reflect, having emptied my shelf,
And "nobody with me at sea but myself;"*

Though I could not help thinking my gentleman hasty,
Yet Johnson, and Burke, and a good venison pasty,
Were things that I never disliked in my life,
Though clogg'd with a coxcomb, and Kitty his wife.
So next day, in due splendour, to make my approach,
I drove to his door in my own hackney coach.

When come to the place where we all were to dine,
(A chair lumber'd closet, just twelve feet by nine,)
My friend bade me welcome, but struck me quite dumb
With tidings that Johnson and Burke would not come;

* See the letters that passed between his Royal Highness Henry Duke of Cumberland, and Lady Grosvenor. 12mo. 1769.

"For I knew it," he cried, " both eternally fail,

The one with his speeches, and t'other with Thrale: *
But no matter, I'll warrant we'll make up the party
With two full as clever, and ten times as hearty.
The one is a Scotchman, the other a Jew;

They both of them merry, and authors like you:
The one writes the Snarler, the other the Scourge;
Some thinks he writes Cinna-he owns to Panurge.
While thus he described them, by trade and by name,
They enter'd, and dinner was served as they came.

-was not.

;

At the top, a fried liver and bacon were seen;
At the bottom, was tripe in a swinging tureen;
At the sides, there was spinage, and pudding made hot
In the middle, a place where the pasty-
Now, my lord, as for tripe, it's my utter aversion,
And your bacon I hate like a Turk or a Persian
So there I sat stuck like a horse in a pound,
While the bacon and liver went merrily round:
But what vex'd me most was that d'd Scottish rogue,
With his long-winded speeches, his smiles and his brogue,
And, "Madam," quoth he, "may this bit be my poison,
A prettier dinner I never set eyes on:

Pray, a slice of your liver, though, may I be curst,
But I've eat of your tripe till I'm ready to burst."
"The tripe!" quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek,
"I could dine on this tripe seven days in a week:
I like these here dinners, so pretty and small;
But your friend there, the Doctor, eats nothing at all."
"O ho!" quoth my friend, he'll come on in a trice,
He's keeping a corner for something that's nice:
There's a pasty."- A pasty!" repeated the Jew,
"I don't care if I keep a corner for't too."

"What the deil mon, a pasty!" re-echo'd the Scot,
Though splitting, I'll still keep a corner for that."
"We'll all keep a corner," the lady cried out;
"We'll all keep a corner," was echo'd about.
While thus we resolved, and the pasty delay'd,
With looks that quite petrified, enter'd the maid:
A visage so sad, and so pale with affright,
Waked Priam, in drawing his curtains by night.

* An eminent London brewer, M. P. for the borough of Southwark, at whose table Dr Johnson was a frequent guest.-B.

But we quickly found out-for who could mistake her?-
That she came with some terrible news from the baker:
And so it fell out; for that negligent sloven
Had shut out the pasty on shutting his oven.
Sad Philomel thus-but let similes drop-
And now that I think on't, the story may stop.

To be plain, my good lord, it's but labour misplaced,
To send such good verses to one of your taste:
You've got an odd something—a kind of discerning,
A relish a taste-sicken'd over by learning;
At least it's your temper, as very well known,
That you think very slightly of all that's your own:
So, perhaps, in your habits of thinking amiss,
You may make a mistake, and think slightly of this.

RETALIATION.

[First printed in 1774, after the author's death.]

Dr Goldsmith and some of his friends occasionally dined at the St James's Coffeehouse. One day, it was proposed to write epitaphs on him. His country, dialect, and person, furnished subjects of witticism. He was called on for RETALIATION, and, at their next meeting, produced the following poem. [At the former of these meetings, as we learn from Cumberland, the party consisted of Dr Barnard, Dean of Derry, Dr Douglas, Johnson, Garrick, Goldsmith, Edmund and Richard Burke, Hickey, and Cumberland, with two or three others. One of the company having suggested the idea of writing extemporary epitaphs upon the parties present, Garrick wrote off-hand some very humorous verses on Goldsmith, who was the first in jest, as he proved to be in reality, that they consigned to the grave. The Dean also gave him an epitaph, and Sir Joshua Reynolds illuminated the Dean's verses with a sketch of his bust, in pen and ink, inimitably caricatured. Neither Johnson nor Burke wrote any thing, and Cumberland's verses were entirely complimentary. Goldsmith, it seems, felt somewhat sore at the jests of which he had been made the subject; and it was for the purpose of restoring his good humour that his companions insisted upon his retaliating. -B]

OF old, when Scarron his companions invited,

Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united;
If our landlord* supplies us with beef and with fish,
Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best dish.

*The master of the St James's Coffeehouse, where the Doctor, and the friends he has characterized in this poem, occasionally dined.

Our Dean* shall be venison, just fresh from the plains;
Our Burket shall be tongue, with a garnish of brains;
Our Will shall be wild-fowl, of excellent flavour,
And Dick with his pepper shall heighten the savour;
Our Cumberland's|| sweetbread its place shall obtain,
And Douglas¶ is pudding, substantial and plain ;
Our Garrick's** a salad, for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness, agree:

To make out the dinner, full certain I am,
That Ridge++ is anchovy, and Reynolds‡‡ is lamb;
That Hickey's SS a capon, and, by the same rule,
Magnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool.
At a dinner so various-at such a repast,
Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last?
Here, waiter, more wine! let me sit while I'm able,
Till all my companions sink under the table;
Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head,
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.

Here lies the good Dean, reunited to earth,

Who mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth⚫
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt,

At least, in six weeks, I could not find 'em out;

Yet some have declared, and it can't be denied 'em,
That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em.

Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such,
We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much;

* Doctor Barnard, Dean of Derry, in Ireland, [afterwards Bishop of Killaloe.-B.}

+ The Right Hon. Edmund Burke.

Mr William Burke, formerly secretary to General Conway, and member for Bedwin.

Mr Richard Burke, collector of Granada.

Mr Richard Cumberland, author of The West Indian, The Jew, and other dramatic works. [He was also a voluminous miscellaneous writer. His autobiography is one of the most amusing books in the language, and contains many interesting anecdotes of his literary contemporaries.-B.]

Dr Douglas, Canon of Windsor, and afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, was himself a native of Scotland, and obtained considerable reputation by his detection of the forgeries of his countrymen, Lauder and Bower. Vide post, notes. B.

**David Garrick, Esq.

++ Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman belonging to the Irish bar.

Sir Joshua Reynolds.

SS An eminent attorney.

Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,

And to party gave up what was meant for mankind:
Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat,
To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote;
Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,
And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining:+
Though equal to all things, for all things unfit;
Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit;
For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient;
And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.
In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd or in place, sir,
To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.

Here lies honest William, whose heart was a mint,
While the owner ne'er knew half the good that was in't;
The pupil of impulse, it forced him along,

His conduct still right, with his argument wrong;
Still aiming at honour, yet fearing to roam,

The coachman was tipsy, the chariot drove home:

Would you ask for his merits? alas! he had none;

What was good was spontaneous, his faults were his own.

Here lies honest Richard, whose fate I must sigh at;
Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet!
What spirits were his! what wit and what whim!
Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb!‡
Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the ball!
Now teasing and vexing, yet laughing at all!
In short, so provoking a devil was Dick,

That we wish'd him full ten times a-day at Old Nick;

* Mr T. Townshend, member for Whitchurch, [afterwards Lord Sydney. Another name stood here in the original copy of Retaliation, but Mr Townshend's was introduced, according to Sir James Macintosh, for his persisting in clearing the gallery of the House of Commons, in spite of the earnest remonstrances of Burke and Fox, one evening when Garrick was present.-B.]

+ Mr Burke's speeches in Parliament, though distinguished by all the characteristic force of reasoning and eloquence of their highly gifted author, were not always listened to with patience by his brother members, who not unfrequently took the opportunity of retiring to dinner when he rose to speak. To this circumstance, which procured for the orator the sobriquet of the Dinner Bell, the poet here alludes.-B.

Mr Richard Burke having slightly fractured an arm and a leg at different times, the Doctor has rallied him on these accidents, as a kind of retributive justice, for breaking his jests upon other people.