ought any man, in common humanity, to ridicule their want of genius with fuchpoignancy as to make them the jeft of the whole kingdom. The late duke of Grafton entertained very proper fentiments of this point. Mr. F-z-k, a gentleman of fortune, having fome flight quarrel with Mr. Garrick, revenged it in a public manner, by hiffing him violently, when the whole houfe was filent, andeven complained to the duke as Lord Chamberlain, that Mr. Garrick had ufedhim ill, defiring that he would interpofe his authority." Really, Mr. F." replied his grace, "I cannot think you have any reason to make me complaints, for you yourself confess you have often hiffed Mr. Garrick when on the stage, which, let me tell you, Sir, is a very unlawful act, and much too great a revenge for any fuch quarrels." However, as he could

not

not effect his design with the duke, he began a very illiberal abufive criticism on that great actor, in the Craftsman, under the title of X. Y. Z. Mr. Garrick bore it very patiently for fome time, and revenged himself very feverely in the Fribbleriad, wherein Mr. F. is ridiculed with a great deal of humour.*

It

* Mr. Churchill, in a late edition of the Rofciad, draws a fatirical character of him in a most admirable manner:

With that low cunning, which in fools supplies,
And amply too, the place of being wife,
Which Nature, kind indulgent parent gave
To qualify the blockhead for a knave;
With that fmooth falfhood, whofe appearance
charms,

And reafon of each wholefome doubt difarms,
Which to the lowest depths of guile descends,
By vileft means purfues the vileft ends,

Wears

It must be confeffed Mr. Churchill's criticisms are extremely juft, and difplay not a little judgment; but nevertheless it

Wears friendship's mask for purposes of spite,
Fawns in the day, and butchers in the night;
With that malignant envy, which turns pale,
And fickens, even if a friend prevail,

is

Which merit and fuccefs purfues with hate,
And damns the worth it cannot imitate;
With the cold caution of a coward's fpleen,
Which fears not guilt, but always feeks a fcreen,
Which keeps this maxim ever in her view-
What's bafely done, fhould be done fafely too;
With that dull, rooted, callous impudence,
Which, dead to fhame, and ev'ry nicer fenfe,
Ne'er blush'd, unlefs, in fpreading Vice's fnares,
She blunder'd on fome virtue unawares;
With all these bleffings, which we seldom find
Lavish'd by Nature on one happy mind,
A motley figure, of the fribble tribe,

Which heart can fearce conceive, or pen defcribe,
Came fimp'ring on; to afcertain whofe fex
Twelve fage impanell'd matrons would perplex,

Nor

is a moft inhuman defign to fatirize them with fuch feverity. The following fatirical character of Dr. Hill has humour in it, but does not pay a just tribute to his abilities as a botanift.

With

Nor male, nor female; neither, and yet both;
Of neuter gender, tho' of Irish growth;
A fix-foot fuckling, mincing in his gate;
Affected, peevish, prim, and delicate;
Fearful it feem'd, tho' of Athletic make,
Left brutal breezes fhould too roughly shake
Its tender form, and favage motion spread
O'er its pale cheeks the horrid manly red.

Much did it talk in its own pretty phrase,
Of genius and of tafte, of play'rs and plays;
Much too of writings, which itself had wrote,
Of special merit, tho' of little note,

For fate, in a strange humour, had decreed
That what it wrote, none but itself should read;
Much too it chatter'd of dramatic laws,
Misjudging critics, and mifplac'd applaufe ...
Then, with a felf-complacent jutting air,
It fmil'd, it fmirk'd, it wriggled to the chair;

And,

With fleek appearance and with ambling pace,
And, type of vacant head, with vacant face,
The Proteus H-ll put in his modeft plea,--
"Let favour speak for others, worth for me."-
For who like him his various pow'rs could call
Into fo many shapes, and fhine in all

Who could fo nobly grace the motley lift;
Actor, Inspector, Doctor, Botanift;

Knows

And, with an aukward brifknefs not his own,
Looking around, and perking on the throne,
Triumphant feem'd, when that ftrange favage dame,
Known but to few, or only known by name,
Plain Common Senfe appear'd, by Nature there
Appointed, with plain Truth, to guard the chair.
The pageant saw, and blasted with her frown,
To its first state of nothing melted down.

Nor fhall the Muse (for even there the pride
Of this vain nothing fhall be mortified)

Nor shall the Mufe (fhould Fate ordain her rhimes,
Fond pleafing thought! to live in after-times)
With fuch a trifler's name her pages blot:
Known be the character, the thing forgot;
Let it, to disappoint each future aim,
Live without fex, and die without a name!