I repeat it, "New Friends"—for I cannot describe
The delight I am in with this Perceval tribe.
Such capering!—Such vaporing!—Such rigor!—Such vigor!
North, South, East, and West, they have cut such a figure,
That soon they will bring the whole world round our ears,
And leave us no friends—but Old Nick and Algiers.
When I think of the glory they've beamed on my chains,
'Tis enough quite to turn my illustrious brains.
It is true we are bankrupts in commerce and riches,
But think how we find our Allies in new breeches!
We've lost the warm hearts of the Irish, 'tis granted,
But then we've got Java, an island much wanted,
To put the last lingering few who remain,
Of the Walcheren warriors, out of their pain.
Then how Wellington fights! and how squabbles his brother!
For Papists the one and with Papists the other;
One crushing Napoleon by taking a City,
While t'other lays waste a whole Catholic Committee.
Oh deeds of renown!—shall I boggle or flinch,
With such prospects before me? by Jove, not an inch.
No—let England's affairs go to rack, if they will,
We'll look after the affairs of the Continent still;
And with nothing at home but starvation and riot,
Find Lisbon in bread and keep Sicily quiet.
I am proud to declare I have no predilections,[10]
My heart is a sieve where some scattered affections
Are just danced about for a moment or two,
And the finer they are, the more sure to run thro';
Neither feel I resentments, nor wish there should come ill
To mortal—except (now I think on't) Beau Brummel,
Who threatened last year, in a superfine passion,
To cut me and bring the old King into fashion.
This is all I can lay to my conscience at present;
When such is my temper, so neutral, so pleasant,
So royally free from all troublesome feelings,
So little encumbered by faith in my dealings
(And that I'm consistent the world will allow,
What I was at Newmarket the same I am now).
When such are my merits (you know I hate cracking),
I hope, like the Vender of Best Patent Blacking,
"To meet with the generous and kind approbation
"Of a candid, enlightened, and liberal nation."
By the by, ere I close this magnificent Letter,
(No man, except Pole, could have writ you a better,)
'Twould please me if those, whom I've humbugged so long[11]
With the notion (good men!) that I knew right from wrong,
Would a few of them join me—mind, only a few—
To let too much light in on me never would do;
But even Grey's brightness shan't make me afraid,
While I've Camden and Eldon to fly to for shade;
Nor will Holland's clear intellect do us much harm,
While there's Westmoreland near him to weaken the charm.
As for Moira's high spirit, if aught can subdue it.
Sure joining with Hertford and Yarmouth will do it!
Between R-d-r and Wharton let Sheridan sit,
And the fogs will soon quench even Sheridan's wit:
And against all the pure public feeling that glows
Even in Whitbread himself we've a Host in George Rose!
So in short if they wish to have Places, they may,
And I'll thank you to tell all these matters to Grey.[12]
Who, I doubt not, will write (as there's no time to lose)
By the twopenny post to tell Grenville the news;
And now, dearest Fred (tho' I've no predilection),
Believe me yours always with truest affection.
P.S. A copy of this is to Perceval going[13]
Good Lord, how St. Stephen's will ring with his crowing!
[1] Letter from his Royal Highness the Prince Regent to the Duke of York, Feb. 13, 1812.
[2] "I think it hardly necessary to call your recollection to the recent circumstances under which I assumed the authority delegated to me by Parliament.—Prince's Letter.
[3] "My sense of duty to our Royal father solely decided that choice."— Ibid.
[4] The antique shield of Martinus Scriblerus, which, upon scouring, turned out to be only an old sconce.
[5] "I waived any personal gratification, in order that his Majesty might resume, on his restoration to health, every power and prerogative," etc.— Prince's Letter.