Painful pre-eminence! he hears, ’tis true,
FOX, NORTH, and BURKE, but hears SIR JOSEPH too.
Then follows the simile—
Like sad PROMETHEUS, fasten’d to his rock,
In vain he looks for pity to the clock;
In vain the’ effects of strengthening porter tries,
And nods to BELLAMY for fresh supplies;
While vulture-like, the dire MAHON appears,
And, far more savage, rends his suff’ring ears.
* * * * *
NUMBER X.
Amongst the various pretensions to critical approbation, which are to be found in the excellent and never-sufficiently to be admired production, which is the object of these comments, there is one that will strike the classical observer as peculiarly prominent and praise-worthy:—namely, the uncommon ability shown by the author, in the selection of his heroes. The personæ that are introduced in the course of this poem, are characters that speak for themselves. The very mention of their names is a summons to approbation; and the relation of their history, if given in detail, would prove nothing more than a lengthened panegyric. Who that has heard of the names of a Jenkinson, a Robinson, or a Dundas, has not in the same breath heard also what they are? This is the secret of our author’s science and excellence. It is this that enables him to omit the dull detail of introductory explanation, and to fasten upon his business, if one may use the expression, slap-dash and at once.
Semper ad eventum festinat, et in medias res,
Non secus ac notas auditorum rapit. HOR.
Homer himself yields, in this respect, to our author; for who would not perceive the evident injustice done to the modern bard, if we were to place the wisdom of an Ulysses on any competition with the experience of a Pitt; to mention the bully Ajax, as half so genuine a bully, as the bully Thurlow; if we were to look upon Nestor as having a quarter of the interesting circumlocution of the ambiguous Nugent; to consider Achilles as possessed of half the anger of a ROLLE; or to suppose for a moment, that the famous ποδας-ωκυς of antiquity, could run nearly so fast in a rage, as the member for Devon in a fright; to conceive the yellow-haired Paris to have had half the beauty of the ten times more yellow-haired Villiers; to look upon Agamemnon as in any degree so dictatorial to his chiefs as the high-minded Richmond; to consider the friendship of Patroclus, as possessed of a millionth portion of the disinterested attachment of a Dundas; to have any conception that the chosen band of Thessalian Myrmidons, were to be any way compared, in point of implicit submission, to the still more dextrously chosen band of the Minister in the British House of Commons. Or—but there is no end to so invidious a comparison; and we will not expose poor Homer, to the farther mortification of pursuing it.
MERLIN proceeds in his relation, and fixes upon an object that will not, we believe, prove any disgrace to our author’s general judgment of selection; namely, that worthy Baronet and universally admired wit, Sir RICHARD HILL, of whom it may be truly said,
———Pariter pietate jocisque,
Egregius.
He looks upon him as an individual meriting every distinction, and has thought proper therefore, in the last edition of the ROLLIAD, though the Baronet had been [1]slightly touched upon before, to enlarge what was then said, into a more particular description. Speaking of Sir Richard’s style of elocution, our author observes—
With quaint formality of sacred smut,
His rev’rend jokes see pious RICHARD cut.
Let meaner talents from the Bible draw
Their faith, their morals These, and Those their law!
His lively genius finds in holy writ
A richer mine of unsuspected wit.
What never Jew, what never Christian taught,
What never fir’d one sectary’s heated thought,
What not e’en [2]ROWLAND dream’d, he saw alone,
And to the wondering senate first made known;
How bright o’er mortal jokes the Scriptures shine
Resplendent Jest-book of bon-mots divine.
This description will be readily felt, and we trust, not less cordially admired, by all those who may have enjoyed the pleasure of auricular evidence to Sir Richard’s oratory. The thought of converting the Bible into a jest book, is, we believe, quite new; and not more original in itself, than characteristically just in its application to the speaker. We all know that Saul affected insanity for the sake of religion, in the early periods of our holy faith; and why so great an example should not be imitated in later times, we leave it to the prophane to shew.
We know not whether it is worth observing, that the eloquence of this illustrious family is not confined to Sir Richard alone; but that his brother inherits the same gift, and, if possible, in a greater degree. It is said, there is an intention of divesting this latter gentleman of his clerical robe, and bringing him into the senate, as the avowed competitor of our modern Cromwell. If this happy event should luckily take place, we shall literally see the observation then realized, that the Ministry will give to their wicked enemies, on the other side of the House, what they have so long wanted and deserved.
“———A Rowland for their Oliver.”
This, however, by the way. Our author resumes his subject with the following spirited apostrophe:—
Methinks I see him from the Bench arise,
His words all keenness, but all meek his eyes;
Define the good religion might produce,
Practise its highest excellence-abuse;
And with his tongue, that two-edg’d weapon, show,
At once the double worth of JOB and JOE.
Job, as some of our more learned readers may know, is a book in the Old Testament, and is used here per synechdochen, as a part for the whole. Nothing can be more natural, than the preference given to this book, on this occasion, as Sir Richard is well known in his speeches to be so admirable an auxiliary to its precepts. The person of the name of Joe, who has received so laconic a mention in the last line of the above extract, will be recognized by the critical and the intelligent, as the same individual who distinguished himself so eminently in the sixteenth century, as a writer and a wit, namely, Mr. Joseph Miller; a great genius, and an author, avowedly in the highest estimation with our learned Baronet.
The business of the composition goes on.—It is evident, however, the poet was extremely averse to quit a subject upon which his congenial talents reposed so kindly. He does not leave Sir Richard, therefore, without the following finished and most high-wrought compliment:
With wit so various, piety so odd,
Quoting by turns from Miller and from God;
Shall no distinction wait thy honour’d name?
No lofty epithet transmit thy fame?
Forbid it wit, from mirth refin’d away!
Forbid it Scripture, which thou mak’st so gay!
SCIPIO, we know, was AFRICANUS call’d,
RICHARD styl’d LONG-SHANKS—CHARLES surnam’d the BALD;
Shall these for petty merits be renown’d,
And no proud phrase, with panegyric sound,
Swell thy short name, great HILL?—Here take thy due,
And hence be call’d the’ SCRIPTURAL KILLIGREW.
The administration of baptism to adults, is quite consonant to Sir Richard’s creed; and we are perfectly satisfied, there is not a Member