Dr. Goldsmith and some of his friends occasionally dined at the St. James's Coffee-house.--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. RETALIATION: A POEM. * 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: Our + Dean shall be venison, just fresh from the plains; Our † Burke shall be tongue, with the garnish of brains: Our § Will shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour, And Dick with his pepper shall heighten the savour: *The master of the St. James's coffee-house, where the doctor, and the friends he has characterized in this poem, occasionally dined. + Doctor Bernard, dean of Derry in Ireland. The Right Hon. Edmund Burke. § Mr. William Burke, late secretary to General Conway, and member for Bedwin. Mr. Richard Burke, collector of Granada. Our And † Douglas is pudding, subtantial and plain : That Ridge is anchovy, and || Reynolds is lamb; Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last? *Mr. Richard Cumberland, author of the West Indian, Fashionable Lover, the Brothers, and various other productions. (a) + Dr. Douglas, canon of Windsor, (now Bishop of Salisbury) an ingenious Scotch gentleman, who has no less distinguished himself as a citizen of the world, than a sound critic, in detecting several literary mistakes (or rather forgeries) of his countrymen; particularly Lauder on Milton, and Bower's History of the Popes. David Garrick, Esq. § Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman belonging to the Irish bar. Sir Joshua Reynolds. An eminent attorney. ** Vide page 105. (a) Since this note was written of "Calvary, or the Death of Christ." If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt, At least, in six weeks I cou'd not find 'em out; Yet some have declar'd, and it can't be denied 'em, That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em. Here lies our good * Edmund, whose genius was We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; 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 persuadet Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote; Though equal to all things, for all things unfit, 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 forc'd him along, His conduct still right, with his argument wrong; |