ODE TO Mr. PINCHBECK, UPON HIS NEWLY INVENTED PATENT CANDLE-SNUFFERS, By MALCOLM Mc GREGGOR,
Esq
Author of the Heroic Epistle to Sir WILLIAM CHAMBERS, and the Heroic Postscript.
Quosque ergo frustrà pascemus ignigenum istum?
Apuleii Met. Lib. 7.
Why should a Patent be granted to this Candle-Snuffer in vain?
THE SECOND EDITION.
LONDON: Printed for J. ALMON, opposite Burlington-House, Piccadilly.
MDCCLXXVI.
[Price SIX-PENCE.]
ADVERTISEMENT.
EVER since my first Pulication, the Curiosity, not to say Anxiety, of the World concerning my Name, has been so great, that it has frequently given me Pain to conceal what the World will now see it was not possibly in my Power to discover.
In short, I had no Name, till the Royal Favour lately restored my very antient and honourable Clan to its pristine Title and Honours. I was therefore in the same deplorable Case with a certain nameless Lady, whom I have long had the Honour to call my Neighbour, and who, I sincerely hope, will soon, by the same Favour, be restored to that Title, which, upon my Honour, I believe, she has erroneously, and not intentionally forfeited.
I have only to add, that now, when the Public is in possession of my real Name, it will not, I hope, suffer any national Prejudice to prevent it from receiving this my first Lyrical Attempt with its former Candour. But I must needs say, that if this Ode does not sell as well as Mr. CUMBERLAND'S, I shall be apt to impute it, not to any inferiority of Lyrical Ordonance, but merely to its having been written by a Scotchman.
Knightsbridge,
May
6, 1776.
ODE TO Mr. PINCHBECK.
I.
ILLUSTRIOUS PINCHBECK! condescend,
Thou well-belov'd, and best King's-Friend,
These Lyric Lines to view;
O! may they prompt thee, e'er too late,
To snuff the Candle of the State,
That burns a little blue.
II.
It once had got a stately Wick,
When in its Patent-Candlestick
The Revolution put it;
As white as Wax we saw it shine
Thro' two whole Lengths of BRUNSWICK's Line,
'Till B—first dar'd to smut it.
III.
Since then—but wherefore tell the Tale?
Enough, that now it burneth pale,
And sorely wastes its Tallow:
Nay, if thy Poet rightly weens,
(Though little skill'd in Ways and Means)
Its Save-all is but shallow.
IV.
Come then, ingenious Artist, come,
And put thy Finger, and thy Thumb,
Into each polish'd Handle;
On thee alone our Hopes depend,
Thy King's, and eke thy Country's Friend,
To trim Old England's Candle.
V.
But first we pray, for its Relief,
Pluck from its Wick, each Tory Thief,
It else must quickly rue it;
These Initials, like those in the Banns of Marriage published between N. and M. may be filled up at the Reader's Pleasure.
Vide Common Prayer Book.
While N—and M—sputter there,
Thou'lt ne'er prevent with all thy Care,
The melting of the Suet.
VI.
There's TWITCHER too, that old He-witch,
Sticks in his Bole as black as Pitch,
Our ingenious Inventor's Snuffer
are peculiarly calculated to remedy this evil, to which indeed all Candles are more or less subject.
See the Patentee's Advertisement.
And makes a silthy pother;
When curst with such a sorry Fiend,
And lighted too at either End,
'Twill soon be in a smother.
VII.
I fear me much in sucha plight,
Those Tapers blest would lose their Light,
Canadian Fanes that deck;
Which pious—*—ordains to blaze,
And gild with their establish'd Rays,
Our Lady of Quebec.
VIII.
It is humbly presumed that the classical Reader will here perceive a boldness of Transition, only to be equalled by PINDAR, and perhaps by HORACE, in some of his sublimer Odes.
His Arms, thou hallowed Image! bless,
And surely thou canst do no less,
He is thy Faith's Defender;
Thou owest thy Place to him alone,
As other Jacobites have done,
And not to the Pretender.
IX.
Haste then, and quash the hot Turmoil,
That flames in Boston's angry Soil,
And frights the Mother-Nation:
Know, Lady! if its Rage you stop,
PINCHBECK shall send you, from his Shop,
A most superb Oblation.
X.
His Patent-snuffers, in a Dish
Of burnish'd Gold; if more you wish,
His Cyclops shall bestir
Their brawny Stumps, and for thy sake,
Of PINCHBECK's own Mixt-metal make
A huge Extinguisher.
XI.
To form the Mass—,thy Zeal
Shall furnish that well-temper'd Steel,
Thou didst at Minden brandish;
Nor yet shall G—'s reverend Dean,
Counting its Worth, refuse, I ween,
His ponderous leaden Standish.
XII.
Poor Doctor JOHNSON, I'm afraid,
Can give but metaphoric Aid;
His Style's case-harden'd Graces:
M' PHERSON, without Shame, or Fear,
Sir JOHN DALRYMPLE, and SHEBBEARE
Shall melt their brazen Faces.
XIII.
And sure, this mixt metallic Stuff,
Will yield Materials large enough
To mold the mighty Cone;
But how transport it, when 'tis cast
Across the deep Atlantic Vast,
'Twill weigh some thousand Stone?
XIV.
"Leave that to me" our Lady cries,
"Howe'er gigantic be its Size,
"I have a Scheme in petto;
"I'll fly with it from Shore to Shore,
"Safe as my sooty Sister bore,
"Her Cottage to Loretto.
XV.
"Swift to the Congress with my Freight
"I'll speed, and on their Heads its Weight
"Souse with such Skill and Care;
"That PUTTNAM, WASHINGTON beneath,
"And grasping LEE shall wish to breathe
"
This great Philosopher has lately discovered a Method of fabricating a new Species of Air, of so infinitely superior salubrity and duration to that vulgar atmospherical Air, which for want of better we have been obliged to breathe for upwards of five thousand Years, that it is to be supposed that no Macaroni, Savoir Vivre, or in plain English, no body that knows what's what, will in future condescend to respire any Air, that is not sealed with the Doctor's own Arms, and signed with his own Hand-writing. It is to be feared, however, that his Pneumatic Vials will be liable to be counterfeited, as our Philosopher has not Interest enough at Court to procure a Patent. Indeed were such a Patent granted, it might supersede Mr. PINCHBECK's; because that in this Air a Candle is found to burn with so bright and continued a Flame, that it could never want snuffing.
See Vol. II. of Dr. Priestley's Experiments on Air.
A Pint of PRIESTLEY's Air.
XVI.
"The Deed is done, thy Foes are dead,
"No longer England, shalt thou dread
"Such Presbyterean Huffers;
"Thy Candle's Radiance ne'er shall fade,
"With now and then a little Aid,
"From PINCHBECK's Patent-snuffers."
FINIS.
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