He spoke like an angel, a great many fay, And beat fix or sevěn quite out of their play, Being serious and comic, being grave, being gay. How are innocent quarrels emboweld since then, For statues to honour that best of all men! Buckles, buttons, and studs, in America worn, Signs, ribbons, and tea-pots, with Pitt they adorn ; The good folks of Bath, to exceed all the rest, Rous'd old royal Bladud, asleep in his nest; They rous'd him, I say, when he strait fell a praising, In strong black letter print, which was us’d former

days in : But now, that king Bladud's again under ground, They have alter'd their tone, and are looking around For the co-horns of rhyme with fcurrility for'd, To fing at the head of the god they ador’d. 'Tis amazing to think, but the men of this land, Who are not lords themselves, cannot oft understand. How virtue and sense can reside in a peerAnd Pitt is become my lord Chatham. I fear This vulgar opinion 'bout lords is not true; For fince I've been from home, I have seen one or

two, Who were ruld by their wives, and went in the


Which thews wisdom and goodness, I think, very





Not a maker of ballads in all this great town,
But is priming his piece to knock poor Chatham

down ;
Nay, the ladies that traffick in love round the Garden,
Drink his downfall in gin, to the very last farthing.
The news-papers all are as fly as they can be
With W's and Ps and **


understand me, For my part (for I think 'tis a shame to stand out, And see a poor lord so belabour'd about) As I find, upon trial, a knack to compose A caustic in verse, ten times hotter than prose, I'm resolv'd in some Chronicle foon to have at 'em, Subscribing myself at the bottom Phil-Chatham.

**, I hope

I may do him much good, and one knows not for

certain, He may leave me a box, when he thinks of de

parting; Or perhaps (which is more to be wish'd for by far) He may make me Jackall in his next German war.

I am, dear friend, yours fincerely.




(Taken from Mr. Hogarthi's famous pi&ture of Mr. Garrick,

in the character of Richard the Third)


This Print will be published before the opening of the next

session of poto


THE late G-C- will be lying on his couch, dressed with his coronet and robes, and his hands and feet wrapped up in flannel, and starting at the ghosts that

appear to him in his sleep, and address him in imitation of the ghosts in Shakespeare,

Enter the ghojt of Sarah duchefs of Marlborough.
The firft was I that help'd thee to be known,
But not the last that finds thee an apoftate.
In the debate, O think on Marlborough,
And shrink in terror of thy guiltiness.

Enter the ghost of Robert earl of Orford.
When I was living, my fair character
By thee was punched full of deadly holes ;


E 2

Think on the Tower and me, despair and die ;
The injur'd Orford bids thee droop and die.

Enter the ghost of Ralph. Allen, efq; Let me be laid within thy bosom, Chm, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame and forrow; I thought thee once deserving of my friendship; But now a convert made by truth and justice, I join thy new pursuers, once thy friends : If any pains can adequate thy crimes, May they, thou arch impostor, now await thee.

Enter the ghost of Sir William Pynsent. Let me fit heavy on thy soul to-morrow; Pynsent that rais'd thy fortune--not thy fame. Think on my wronged heirs, who now with justice Curse the false patriot in their humble state, And join with me to execrate his baseness ; Let all their wrongs to-morrow be remember'd, And fink thy edgeless tongue.

Chorus of English ghosts destroyed in Germany.
Awake, awake, inhuman murderer !
Think how we bled to raise thy once-lov'd name,
Which now, alas ! lies bury'd in a title,
Bloody and guilty; guilty, now awake,
To future peers a terrible example.


The ghost of William earl of Bath.
Brother in guilt, remember me to-morrow ;
Let not my fate o‘erwhelm thy trembling foul !
I that was wasted to death by fulsome honours :
Poor Bath!
Unpitied and dishonour'd, now appear
To warn thee of the danger of to-morrow.
O think on me!

This print will be distributed gratis to the late GCr's remaining friends in the common-council, as few copies will now serve that purpose.

Subscriptions to be taken in at Mr. Dingley's, at North-End, at alderman Beckford's in Soho-Square, and at the Peer's new friend, colonel W. Barré, vicetreasurer of Ireland.


If bees a government maintain,
Why may not rats, of stronger brain
And greater pow'r, as well be thought
By Machiavelian axioms taught ?
And so they are, for thus of late
It happen'd in the rats' free state.

Their prince (his fubjects more to please) Had got a mighty Cheshire cheese,

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