Mr. D during his banishment, was assiduously employed in canvassing for favour and protection from his former patrons, the next season, and he exerted his talents to ridicule those who had been instrumental in dethroning him. Quin appeared to him, by the advice he gave as one of the most formidable and dangerous of his enemies; and he could not, therefore, let him escape the lash of his satirical pen. An Epigram which Mr. D—— wrote upon this occasion, and which was handed about at Arthur's, Lady N's rout, and of which a very few copies were obtained, though it never yet appeared in print, will, doubtless, be acceptable to the reader, as he may rely on its being genuine.

AN EPIGRAM CORRECTED.

When Quin of all grace and all dignity void,
Murdered Cato the Censor, and Brutus destroyed,

He strutted, he mouth'd; you no passion could trace

In his action, delivery, or plum-pudding face;

When he massacred Comus the gay god of mirth

He was suffered because we of actors had dearth.

But when Foote with strong judgment, and true genuine wit
Upon all his peculiar absurdities hit;

When Garrick arose, with those talents and fire,
Which nature and all the nine muses inspire,
Poor Guts was neglected, or laughed off the stage
So bursting with envy and tortured with rage;
He damn'd the whole town in a fury and fled,
Little Bayes an extinguisher clapp'd on his head.
Yet we never shall Falstaff behold so well done,
With such character, humour, such spirit, such fun,
So great that we knew not which most to admire,
Glutton, parasite, pander, pimp, letcher, or liar;
He felt as he spoke, nature's dictates are true
When he acted the part, his own picture he drew.

Though it cannot with justice be said that this production did any great honour to the muse of Mr. D

yet it must be owned

would

that Quin was not a little nettled at it; and Mr. Dhave found a very dangerous opponent in his irritated antagonist, if he had not fallen upon a lucky expedient to soften his resent

ment.

It was well known that Mr. Quin had a particular veneration for John Dory, and Mr. D- having at this time an acquaintance at Plymouth, he wrote to him in the most pressing terms not to fail upon his return to bring up as many John Dories as he could possibly cram in the post chaise; to take particular care to have them of the best kind that could be got; and that he would make him any possible return in his power, as his future welfare entirely depended on it. The sea officer who was Mr. Dcorrespondent, executed his commission so completely and arrived

-'s

so critically at Bath with his cargo, at a time that there were no John Dories to be had at any price in that part of the country, that Quin upon receiving the present, was perfectly reconciled to Mr. D and entirely forgave him for his satirical attempt in rhyme.

Quin having once professed a friendship for a person, never withdrew it, unless he had the most cogent reasons for his conduct; so that Dwas now extremely elated with the prospect of Quin's protection, and thereupon renewed with additional assiduity his application to the leading nobility of Bath, in order to be reinstated in his former office. Nor were his hopes groundless, for from the moment it was known that Quin had given him his suffrage, every one eagerly endeavoured to follow his example; and the little Monarch of Bath once more regained his throne.

There are many characters in life whose peculiarities are ornamental to them; but which in men of a different stamp are ridiculous and disgusting. Nash was by nature, formed for all that ostentatious frivolity, so requisite in a Master of the Ceremonies he was in everything original;—there was a whimsical refinement in his person, dress and behaviour; it was habitual to him, and therefore sat so easy upon him, that no stranger who came to Bath, ever expressed any surprise at his uncommon manner and appearance. Mr. D- probably thought that when he succeeded him in office, foppery and extravagance were its necessary appendages. No man in England had ever thought of wearing a white hat before Nash, and the reason he gave for this peculiarity (for he did nothing without some plausible plea, at least to himself) was, that it might not be changed. Mr. D has put on the white hat, and alleged the same reason, though he has actually lost two, and is now consulting three hatters upon the proper cock of the third. Nash always wore his stock buckle in front, because he said he had a wen in his neck, which would be very painful to him if too much pressed. Mr. D—— has no wen yet in his neck, and therefore at present wears his stock buckle like other people; but he is in great hopes one is forming. Nash in the severest winter, never wore his waistcoat buttoned, but his shirt-bosom was constantly visible; Mr. Dintends to attempt the same juvenile appearance, as soon as the weather grows warm and he can with safety lay by his flannel waistcoat.

Such strict conformity in Mr. D to his predecessor's conduct, must convince every one that he never intends making any innovations upon the public or private government with which he is intrusted; and therefore every admirer of the pastimes

and amusements of Bath may rest assured that though Nash and Quin are no more, decency, good manners, and proper regulations will still continue to prevail, while Mr. D remains in peaceable possession of his throne.

CHAPTER XV. .

The good intelligence that latterly subsisted between Mr. Garrick and Mr. Quin. Visits him every summer at Hampton; the peculiar facetiousness of the company in the excursion of 1765; poetry written upon the occasion. His illness; his death.

FROM the time that Quin retired from the stage, a good harmony subsisted, and a regular correspondence was carried on between Mr. Garrick and him, and when he paid a visit to his friends in this metropolis once a year, as he generally did in autumn, he as constantly passed a week or two at Mr. Garrick's villa, at Hampton. His last excursion thither in the summer of 1765, was productive of the most agreeable sallies of wit and merriment: Mr. Garrick's travels furnished such new and entertaining topics of discourse, and Mr. Quin's remarks such unexpected strokes of fancy, as enlivened the conversation to a degree that is almost incredible. Mr.—the poet, had also his share in the entertainment that was afforded, and besides a plenteous discharge of that inexhaustible fund of ready wit which so spontaneously flows from him, his poetical vein was raised to such a pitch that he could not suppress some extempore lines which involuntarily escaped him. This put the whole company into a poetical mood, and gave birth to the following little pieces that have at different times made their way to the public :—

QUIN'S SOLILOQUY ON SEEING DUKE

HUMPHREY AT ST.

ALBANS.

A plague on Egypt's arts I say!
Embalm the dead! on senseless clay
Rich wines and spices waste!
Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I
Bound in a precious pickle lie,
Which I can never taste ?

Let me embalm this flesh of mine
With turtle fat, and Bourdeaux wine,
And spoil th' Egyptian trade!
Than Humphrey's duke more happy I-
Embalm'd alive, old Quin shall die,
A mummy ready made.

THE BRITISH EPICURE.

Imitated from Horace.

I hate French cooks, but love their wine,
On fricassee I scorn to dine,

And bad's the best ragout:
Let me of claret have my fill,
Let me have turtle at my will,
In one large mighty stew!

A napkin let my temples bind,
In night gown free and unconfin'd,
And undisturbed by women!
All vows in one I ask of fate,
Behind the 'Change to eat my weight!
And drink enough to swim in !

TO MR. QUIN

Upon his sending for his spectacles which he had left at Mr. Garrick's.

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.-OTHELLO.

From Shakespeare's law there's no appeal

To shew what is, what not to steal.

To keep the spectacles you left

As you must want them, would be theft;
Your sight, alas, the worse for wear
Your spectacles you cannot spare;
But when, my friend, you leave behind
Strong tokens of a vigorous mind;
That coin, which never false or light,
That sterling wit you pay at sight;

That humour trolling from your tongue,

So bold, emphatical and strong;
That various whim, that social glee,
The quick enlivening repartee,
Jack Falstaff's rich variety!

Such, when you leave, to you unknown
Without a theft I make my own.

You can't be robb'd yourself must grant,
Of what you neither miss nor want.