"How do you do, Mr. Costive? Sit down, sit down. Ay, these times are hard times; I can no more relish these times than I can a haunch of venison without sweet sauce to it; but, if you remember, I told you we should have warm work of it when the cook threw down the Kian pepper. Ay, ay; I think I know a thing or two; I think I do, that's all. But, Lord, what signifies what one knows? they don't mind me! You know I mentioned at our club the disturbances in America, and one of the company took me up, and said, 'What signifies America, when we are all in a merry cue?' So they all fell a laughing. Now there's Commons made Lords, and there's Lords made the Lord knows what; but that's nothing to us; they make us pay our taxes; they take care of that; ay, ay, ay, they are sure of that. Pray what have they done for these twenty years last past?—Why, nothing at all; they have only made a few turnpike roads, and kept the partridges alive till September; that's all they have done, for the good of their country. There were some great people formerly, that lov'd their country, that did every thing for the good of their country; there were your Alexander the Great—he lov'd his country, and Julius Caesar lov'd his country, and Charles of Sweedland lov'd his country, and Queen Semiramis, she lov'd her country more than any of 'em, for she invented solomon-gundy; that's the best eating in the whole world. Now I'll shew you my plan of operations, Mr. Costive.—We'll suppose this drop of punch here to be the main ocean, or the sea; very well. These pieces of cork to be our men of war; very well. Now where shall I raise my fortifications? I wish I had Mr. Major Moncrieff here; he's the best in the world at raising a fortification. Oh! I have it. [Breaks the pipes.] We'll suppose them to be all the strong fortified places in the whole world; such as Fort Omoa, Tilbury Fort, Bergen op Zoom, and Tower Ditch, and all the other fortified places all over the world. Now I'd have all our horse-cavalry wear cork waistcoats, and all our foot-infantry should wear air jackets. Then, sir, they'd cross the sea before you could say Jack Robinson. And where do you think they should land, Mr. Costive? whisper me that. Ha!—What?—When?—How?—You don't know.—How should you!—Was you ever in Germany or Bohemia?—Now, I have; I understands jography. Now they should land in America, under the line, close to the south pole; there they should land every mother's babe of 'em. Then there's the Catabaws, and there's the Catawaws; there's the Cherokees, and there's the ruffs and rees; they are the four great nations. Then I takes my Catabaws all across the continent, from Jamaica to Bengal; then they should go to the Mediterranean. You know where the Mediterranean is?—No, you know nothing; I'll tell you; the Mediterranean is the metropolis of Constantinople. Then I'd send a fleet to blockade Paris till the French king had given up Paul Jones; then I'd send for General Clinton and Colonel Tarleton; and—Where was I, Mr. Costive; with Tarleton;—Thank ye—so I was; but you are so dull, Mr Costive, you put me out. Now I'll explain the whole affair to you; you shan't miss a word of it. Now there is the king of Prussia and the empress of Russia, and the nabob of Arcot, and the king of the Hottentots, are all in the Protestant interest; they make a diversion upon all the Cham of Tartary's back setlements; then Sir Guy Carleton comes with a circumbendibus, and retakes all the islands, Rhode Island and all; and takes 'em here and there, and there and here, and every where. There is the whole affair explained at once to you."
This is the head of a Proud Man: all heads in that predicament are unsound. This man was rich; and as wealth is a certain hot-bed to raise flatterers, he had enough of them; they told him he was every thing; he believed them, and always spoke in the first person, saying, I, I, I—I will have it so; I know it;—I, I—which puts one in mind of a school-boy toning out before his mistress's knees, I by itself I. Yet there is one piece of pride which may be thought excusable; and that is, that honest exultation of heart which every public performer feels from the approbation of his auditors; gratefully does he acknowledge their indulgence, and with sincerity declares that the utmost exertion of his abilities can never equal the favour of the public.
By way of Epilogue, here are two wigs. [Takes two wigs.] This is called the full-buckled bob, and carries a consequentially along with it: it is worn by those people who frequent city feasts, and gorge themselves at a Lord-Mayor's-show dinner; and, with one of these wigs on, their double chins rested upon their breasts, and their shoulders up, they seem as if they had eaten themselves into a state of indigestion, or else had bumpered themselves out of breath with bottled beer. [Puts on the wig.] "Waiter! bring me a ladleful of soup. You dog, don't take off that haunch of venison yet!—Bring me the lamb, a glass of currant jelly, and a clean plate. A hob-nob, sir." "With all my heart." "Two bumpers of Madeira!—Love, health, and ready rhino, to all the friends that you and I know."—On the contrary, these lank looks form the half-famished face. [Puts on the Methodist hair, and takes the tub.]
The floor of the world is filthy, the mud of Mammon eats up all your upper leathers, and we are all become sad soals. Brethren, (the word brethren comes from the tabernacle, because we all breathe therein), if you are drowsy I'll rouse you, I'll beat a tattoo upon the parchment case of your conscience, and I'll whisk the devil like a whirligig among you. Now let me ask you a question seriously. Did you ever see any body eat any hasty-pudding? What faces they make when it scalds their mouths! Phoo, phoo, phoo! What faces will you all make when old Nick nicks you? Now unto a bowl of punch I compare matrimony; there's the sweet part of it, which is the honey-moon: then there's the largest part of it, that's the most insipid, that comes after, and that's the water; then there's the strong spirits, that's the husband; then there's the sour spirit, that's the wife. But you don't mind me, no more than a dead horse does a pair of spectacles; if you did, the sweet words which I utter would be like a treacle posset to your palates. Do you know how many taylors make a man?—Why nine. How many half a man?—Why four journeymen and an apprentice. So have you all been bound 'prentices to madam Faddle, the fashion-maker; ye have served your times out, and now you set up for yourselves. My bowels and my small guts groan for you; as the cat on the house-top is caterwauling, so from the top of my voice will I be bawling. Put—put some money in the plate, then your abomination shall be scalded off like bristles from the hog's back, and ye shall be scalped of them all as easily as I pull off this periwig.
My attempt you have heard to succeed the projector, And I tremblingly wait your award of this lecture; No merits I plead, but what's fit for my station, And that is the merit of your approbation. And, since for mere mirth I exhibit this plan, Condemn, if you please—but excuse, if you can.
END OF THE LECTURE, [ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]
AN ESSAY ON SATIRE.
The vice and folly which overspread human nature first created the satirist. We should not, therefore, attribute his severity to a malignity of disposition, but to an exquisite sense of propriety, an honest indignation of depravity, and a generous desire to reform the degenerated manners of his fellow-creatures. This has been the cause of Aristophanes censuring the pedantry and superstition of Socrates; Horace, Persius, Martial, and Juvenal, the luxury and profligacy of the Romans; Boileau and Molière the levity and refinement of the French; Cervantes the romantic pride and madness of the Spanish; and Dorset, Gldharn, Swift, Addison, Churchill, Stevens, and Foote, the variety of vice, folly, and luxury, which we have imported from our extensive commerce and intercourse with other nations. We should, consequently, reverse the satirist and correct ourselves.