953 UC-NRLF 231 in cv o >- THE .RECANTATION ; ' PRICE ONE SHILLING. THE RECANTATION. INSCRIBED, WITHOUT PERMISSION, \ TO SIR W****** C*****, BART, So I, even now opprest by WOE and WANT, My damning EULOGY on THEE RECANT ; Dash in consuming fire, the unworthy lay, That sought on THEE to shed POETIC RAY, Abjure each theme that lauds the grovelling mind, Or lifts to fame the dregs of human kind ! PAGE 15. LONDON: PRINTED BY R. CARLILE, 183, FLEET STREET. 1818. ADVERTISEMENT. WHY a RECANTATION? Courteous READER, thou shall be an- swered. Suffering under the pressure of MISFOR- TUNE, I meditated the publication of a volume of ORIGINAL POETRY, stimulated less by FAME than NECESSITY, although some of my indulgent Subscribers, and those too, Authors of established Literary reputation, having perused the Manuscript, were pleased to express a very favorable opinion of its merits. Of Sir W. C. I had not the honor of any 6 personal acquaintance, although no stranger to his peculiar celebrity, emblazoned by RIDICULE in the remotest corners of the empire ! Sir W. C. is the protoge of FORTUNE, and the legitimate offspring of VANITY and IGNORANCE. On the supposition that his pertinacious political adherency to the measures, right or wrong, of EVERY Administration, might originate in a consciousness of his own in- feriority of judgment, I racked my brain to find in this Man one solitary merit whereon to eulogize him ! After an Herculean mental labor, ren- dered doubly so by the almost insurmount- able sterility of the subject, I produced, at last, an ACROSTIC, a species of poeti- cal drudgery now become nearly obsolete, which I hoped would excite not merely his ADMIRATION of my WONDERFUL GENIUS, but his patronage of my projected publica- tion, in grateful return for so extraordinary a panegyric ! The ADULATORY lines were forwarded to their destination. NOW MARK THE RESULT. Whether Sir W. C. considered that his MERITS EXCEEDED ALL PRAISE, Or COU- scious of his manifold imperfections, might, in a happy and lucid gleam of discernment, discover that PRAISE applied to him was the most severe satire, I know not ; however* on presenting myself at his TEMPLE of WORSHIP, and sending in my Prospectus, the HIGH PRIEST shortly emerged from his Sanctum Sanctorum, when the following Colloquy ensued. SCENE, The interior of a Banking-House in Lombard Street. A number of Clerks engaged in the transaction of business. Several respectable people paying and receiving money ; The 8 Desks displaying parcels of Bank Notes> towards which the Author, at humble dis- tance, casts a wistful eye of longing but - unavailing regard ! Sir W. with a most repulsive manner and gesture, scarcely human, stalks, in majestic dignity, from an inner room. Sir W. C. "Are you the person who " wrote this here Letter ? Author. " I am, unfortunately !" Sir W. C. " Then you may take them " there papers again. I have something " else to do than reading Prospectuses." Then relaxing the grim features of his full- orbed visage into a ghastly smile of self- approval, and aiming alike at witticism and insolence ; " And so, Mr. Author, my compliments to you, and good morning !" Struck with amazement at a reception so ungracious, I retired from the presence of this GREAT MAN of LITTLE SOUL ; ab- sorbed in reflection so profound, at the caprice of FORTUNE, in having lavished her gifts on SUCH A BEING, that, before awaking from my reverie, I found myself on London Bridge, when I meant to have passed into the Royal Exchange. In alleviation of the anguish arising from my lacerated feelings, and as an expiatory offering at the Altar of violated TRUTH, I wrote the RECANTATION ! READER, pardon my having offered the incense of ADULATION at the shrine of WEALTH and IGNORANCE ! I am already punished by INSULT, DISAPPOINTMENT and REMORSE ! London, September, 1818. THE RECANTATION. For SENSE he little owes to frugal Heaven." Sir W******, art thou much conversed with HISTORY ? If so, it is indeed to me a mystery Where thou acquird'st this branch of know* ledge ; Certes in neither SCHOOL nor COLLEGE ; For I have heard, although thy station Ranks pretty high in Civic honours, Thou ow'st to PARENTS or to DONORS, But little for thy education ! And yet it might have been some recompense^ Had NATURE gifted thee with Common Sense 12 However smaliy^-Sir W****** 9 read my motto ! ^et t - tajkeitfaejwdrt^of NATURE still m toto, This axiom I must maintain, SHE NOUGHT CREATES IN VAIN ! Then C*****, on this most unerring rule, SHE FORM'D THEE PERFECT STILL, A PER- FECT " A perfect what ? 3 ' methinks I hear thee cry, And can'st not thou the vacant rhyme supply ? Where dwells thine INTELLECT, so faint and dull, Knock at the door, thine own impervious skull? 5 Tis form'd of such impenetrable stuff, ' Thou can'st not knock too long, nor loud enough ; Nor fear thy shallow brain An injury may sustain, Dormant so long, now rouse its feeble power. To live perhaps, the ATOM of AN HOUR ! FORTUNE is painted BLIND, an emblem true, And visited she is, with DEAFNESS too ; For, could the Goddess either HEAR or SEE, She never had bestow'd one thought on THEE ! 13 For surely had she ever SEEN Thy form uncouth, and haughty mien, She'd pass'd thee with averted eye ; And had she HEARD thy stupid speeches, A BIRCHEN ROD instead of RICHES, Had been thy SOLE supply ! For when thou mov'st thy lips, if unawares One word of sense escapes, then WISDOM stares Aghast, and unbelieving; But soon the vain delusion ends, FOLLY restores thee to her friends, Thy penitence receiving ; While ADULATION turns aside to laugh, AT THEE, HER ZANY and her GOLDEN CALF! I ask'd thee, if thou aught of HISTORY knew, Of BOOKS thou hast, I understand, a few, Affording still of knowledge some facility ; But why should'st thou display this idle waste, 77*014, who hast neither sense, nor wit, nor taste, Nor even the fleeting shadow of ability? 14 If rightly I surmise, thy course of reading Has chiefly been confined to CALCULATION ; How best to swell thy wealth, exalt thy station, And shew thy still obsequious Courtly breed- ing; Or if a History thou hast ever dipt in, - / TOM THUMB THE GREAT, perhaps, or MOTHER SHIPTON ! When bloody and legitimate QUEEN MARY, The means of pleasing HEAVEN so SHREWDLY boasting; Her loving subjects frying, broiling, roasting, Was wilPd on EARTH (its curse and scourge,) to tarry ; Archbishop CRANMER, who his faith ABJURED, That abjuration afterwards RECANTING ! Doom'd to the stake the dreadful death endured, Nor hope, nor dauntless resolution wanting ! Gave first the offending member to the flaming brand, And cried, in deep remorse, " O THIS UN- WORTHY HAND P 15 So I, even now opprest by WOE and WANT, My damning EULOGY on THEE RECANT ! Dash, in consuming fire, the unworthy lay, That sought on THEE to shed POETIC ray ! Abjure each theme that lauds the grovelling mind, Or lifts to Fame the dregs of human kind ! Yet still thou hast atchieved a deathless name, And damn'd thyself to everlasting fame ! Thou PRINCE of SYCOPHANTS ! the art waa thine, In low prostration at the PREMIER'S shrine, With servile, fawning, parasitic skill, To mould thy pliant VETO to his will ; Whether the BARK o'er passive seas to guide, Or stem of OBLOQUY the rushing tide ; The NATION'S weal to commute or o'erwhelmy The PILOT found thee cringing at the helm, His ready slave, subservient to his nod, The IDOLATOR Mow, and he thy earthly GOD I And yet, with most surprizing pertinacity, With shameless and unparallel'd audacity, 16 Which even the hiss of SCORN could not appal ! Unmoved as thy twin-brothers of GUILDHALL ! The foremost thou, a people's right to barter, And vilely violate the Nation's charter ! The chieftain thou of FOLLY'S brainless race, With matchless impudence and brazen face, Sought thy late gull'd constituents voice, in vain, Within ST. STEPHEN'S walls to seat thee onee again ! Affording thee, once more, an opportunity, Of insult and defiance with impunity. Chosen, on thy humble suit, their public servant Yet thou, of gratitude all unobservant, Their claim to urge, thy duty ev'n denying, Not on their judgment but thine own relying ! Presumptuous Man ! if rightly I divine, Did BRITAIN trust to judgment weak as THINE, Wide o'er the land would RUIN spread her train, CONFUSION reign; and CHAOS come again ! But now adieu, one lofty station! Forth from the COUNCIL of the NATION I? Faced, most unwillingly, to left about ! In other words, from thee, thou MAK of STRAW, Thy former friends their confidence withdraw, And, like a faithless CUR, now kick thee out ! Thou'st found, at last, a judgment meet, Maugre all promise and protection, And certitude of re-election ; JHiss'd from GUILDHALL to LOMBARD STREET ! While, as thou skulk'd'st away, the wild uproar Of JOY proclaimed thy fall, TO RISE NO MORE ! Had any fallen but THEE, the Muse had dwelt On HIS defeat with sympathizing tone ; But THEE, whose callous bosom never felt Nor yet relieved, a suffering, but THINE OWN ! Who, when the languid supplicating eye Of MERIT sues,- will pass regardless by ! Who to the plaintive voice, or silent tears Of friendless GENIUS, shuts both eyes and ears ! Who never gives, unless the trump of FAME Proclaims aloud, the generous Donor's name ! Who, while assessed to feed his PARISH POOR, Against each houseless wanderer bars the door ! B 18 Who, worse than all, when pale AFFLICTION sighs, And sighs in vain, both INSULTS and DENIES ! While SUCH THOU ART, whatever thy lot may to Who could be found to sympathize with THEE ? I really thought thy long unvaried zeal Sprung from some feeling of the general weal ; That tbou, the first rn every PREMIER'S train, Not svvay'd by public post or public gain ; Might, conscious of thy total want of sense, Thy voice surrender to their eloquence ; And, all unletter'd thou, in WISDOM'S School, Resign thy judgment to the PREMIER'S rule; And as HIS Master does ALL PERFECT shine, Might'st think, weak simple man, that so did THINE ; Unmeet the flimsy texture of THY brain DISCERNMENT'S lightest ATOM to sustain ! Than hitherto I think thee not less foolish, Nor yet a whit less obstinately mulish ; 19 Andcould'st thou to thy name again attach M. P. The memory of thy Civic castigation, Contempt and scorn of an indignant Nation, Nor wisdom nor amendment would enforce from thee ! AMBITION, VANITY and IGNORANCE com- bining, Still pinn'd thee to each PREMIER'S Jacket, like its lining ; And now, so RUMOUR says, thou dost aspire To honours more substantial still, and higher, Ev'N TO THE HONOURS OF NOBILITY ! To which, with unrestrained agility, Thou fain wouhTst mount, AMAZEMENT'S self to overwhelm, And grace the UPPER HOUSE, a PEER OF ENGLAND'S REALM ! Most vain, audacious, insolent assurance ! Belief at once exceeding, and endurance ! Thee! from OBSCURITY by FORTUNE only lifted ! Whom FOLLY from her stores has most profusely gifted ! 20 Whom WISDOM still disclaims, and SCORN derides ! Thee, at whose name pleased LAUGHTER shakes her sides ! Thee, in the shades of DULLNESS doom'd to stray, Cheer'd by no gleam of intellectual ray ! Thee, whom to find ideal worth, in vain Ev'n fertile FICTION racks her aching brain ! Now, on behalf of injured COMMON SENSE, I ask thee, on what idle., vague pretence, Or visionary merit, THOU dost claim With rank and noble birth to class THY NAME 1 Is it the merit of much wealth possessing, NATURE denying thee all other blessing ? Is it the merit, still, or right or wrong, That ranged thee with the PREMIER'S servile throng, That thou the debt of gratitude would teach us, How best to pay, for all thy famous speeches, Of eloquence the ridicule-exciting flow, Or wiser Automatic service, AYE and NO $ Now learn this fact, perhaps it may surprize thee, That those w ho praise thee mean to satirize thee ! 21 Learn too, that spite of all thy Courtly manners, Thy service past, and costly SOUTH GATE dinners, Lavish'd on ROYALTY with much profusion, The expected PEERAGE is a mere delusion ! That what is meant the MEED of WORTH to be, Can never be bestow'd ON SUCH AS THEE ! Be mindful, too, of public indignation, Nor tempt a second, well-earn'd, flagellation ! Forego of politics the baneful recollection, Forgetting all thy friends, by all such friends forgot ; Their minion, thou whilst under their direction Enjoy'd their warm acclaim, but now they know thee not ; Now thou'rt turn'd out, those friends of late so civil, Care not whom now thou serv'st, or GOD or DEVIL ! Thy Banking-House, in Lombard-Street, May find thee, now employment meet, Thy wisdom none arraigning ; Sly laughter-loving RIDICULE Her empire o'er her steady fool In silence THERE retaining! And robed in Aldermanic Gown, With look and language all thy own, Thou mak'st thy hearers stare; When " this here" cause so wisely tried, With self-applause thou put'st aside, To wisely try " that there .'" Nor can thy brother Cits forget, When thou, at LORD MAYOR'S table set,, Didst ask of Heaven a boon ; A toast is call'd, on thee all eyes Intent, when peals of laughter rise, " A SPEEDY PEACE AND SOON !'* Nor yet ORTHOGRAPHY nor GRAMMAR, No effort in thy pate can hammer, IMPREGNABLE THAT FORT is ! Witness thy toast again, " THREE C's;*' For who would think that thou by these Meant Cox and KING ^and CURTIS ! 23 Then since in BRITAIN'S SENATE thou, No more with servile fawning bow, Shalt grace the TREASURY benches ; In JUSTICE ROOM excite new wonders, Alternately committing BLUNDERS And THIEVES and GRACELESS WENCHES ! And since to ihee is fortune giv'n, ALL ELSE denied by frugal Heav'n, No tender feelings lent ! Live for THYSELF, be worldly wise, Than this nor art nor knowledge prize, The art of CENT. PER CENT. ! From thee, for purpose good, no doubt, Heaven shuts all wit and wisdom out ; This axiom then applies To THEE, console thyself with this, That still, " where IGNORANCB is bliss " 'TiS FOLLY TO BE WISE !"* Gray. THE END, R. Carlile, Printer, 183, Fleet Street, London, YC 16125 M84836 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY