These fancy "BELL'S POETICS" only sweet, And intercept his hawkers in the street; There smoking hot, inhale MIT YENDA's✶ strains, And the rank fume of TONY PASQUIN's brains. † 191 NOTES. * MIT YENDA. This is Mr. Tim, alias Mr. Timothy Adney, a most pertinacious gentleman, who makes a conspicuous figure in the daily papers under the ingenious signature above cited; it being, as the reader already sees, his own name read backward. "Gentle dulness ever loves a joke!" Of his prodigious labours I have nothing by me but the following stanza, taken from what he calls his Poor Man: "Reward the bounty of your generous hand, "Your head each night in comfort shall be laid, "And plenty smile throughout your fertile land, "While I do hasten to the silent grave." "Good morrow, my worthy masters and mistresses "all; and a merry Christmas to you!" I find I have been guilty of a misnomer. Mr. Adney having politely informed me, since the above was written, that his christian name was not Timothy but Thomas. The Anagram in question, therefore must be MOT YENDA; omitting the H euphoniae gratia. I am happy in an opportunity of doing justice to so correct a gentleman, and I pray him to continue his valuable lucubrations. Others, like Kemble, on black letter pore, NOTES. TONY PASQUIN.-I have too much respect for my reader to affront him with any specimens of this man's poetry, at once licentious and dull beyond example: at the same time I cannot resist the temptation of presenting him with the following stanzas, written by a friend of mine, and sufficiently illustrative of the character in question: "To ANTHONY PASQUIN, Esq. "Why dost thou tack, most simple Anthony, "Thou, like that statue, art devoid of brains? "But thou mistak'st: for know, tho' Pasquin's head "Be full as hard, and near as thick, as thine; "Yet has the world admiring on it read Many a keen gibe, and many a sportive line. "While nothing from thy jobbernowl can spring "But impudence and filth; for out, alas! "Do what we will, 'tis still the same vile thing, "Within, all brick-dust---and without, all brass. Ꭰ Buy at vast sums the trash of ancient days, These, when some lucky hit, or lucky price, Has bless'd them with "The Boke of gode advice,” 195 NOTES. "Then blot the name of PASQUIN from thy page; "Thou seest it will not thy poor riff-raff sell. "Some other would'st thou take? I dare engage "JOHN WILLIAMS, or Tom Fool, will do as well." TONY has taken my friend's advice, and now sells, or attempts to sell his "riff-raff" under the name of JOHN WILLIAMS. It has been represented to me, that I should do well to avoid all mention of this man; from a consideration that one so lost to every sense of decency and shame, was a fitter object for the Beadle than the Muse. This has induced me to lay aside a second castigation which I had prepared for him, though I do not think it expedient to omit what I had formerly written. HERE on the rack of Satire let him lie, Fit garbage for the hell-hound Infamy. One word more. I am told there are men so weak as to deprecate this miserable object's abuse, and so For ekes and algates only deign to seek, NOTES. vain, so despicably vain, as to tolerate his praise-for such I have nothing but pity;-though the fate of Hastings, see the "Pin-basket to the Children of "Thespis," holds out a dreadful lesson to the latter -but should there be a man, or a woman, however high their rank, base enough to purchase the venal pen of this miscreant for the sake of traducing innocence and virtue; then-I was about to threaten, but 'tis not necessary: the profligate cowards who employ Antony can know no severer punishment than the support of a man whose acquaintance is infamy, and whose touch is poison. * Others like Kemble, &c.-Tho' no great Catalogue-hunter, I love to look into such marked ones as now and then fall in my way. That of poor Dodd's books amused me not a little. It exhibited many instances of BLACK LETTER mania; and what is more to my purpose, a transfer of much valuable “trash of "ancient days," to the fortunate Mr. Kemble. For example, First part of the tragicall Raigne of Selimus £. s. d. 1 II 6 (q) And can we, when such mope-eyed dolts are plac'd By thoughtless fashion on the throne of taste- (r) Lo, Beaufoy✶ tells of Afric's barren sand In all the flow'ry phrase of fairy land : (q) Hos pueris monitus patres infundere lippos Cum videas, quærisque unde hæc sartago loquendi Venerit in linguas ? unde istud dedecus ? (r). — crimina rasis Librat in antithetis; doctas posuisse figuras 200 205 Laudatur; bellum hoc. Hoc bellum? An Romule, |