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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/8592-8.txt b/8592-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c52a034 --- /dev/null +++ b/8592-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16499 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poetical Works, by Charles Churchill + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Poetical Works + +Author: Charles Churchill + +Release Date: July, 2005 [EBook #8592] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 25, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Thomas Berger, +and the Distributed Proofreaders Team + + + + +THE POETICAL WORKS OF CHARLES CHURCHILL. + + +With Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes, + +By The REV. GEORGE GILFILLAN. + + * * * * * + +CHURCHILL--HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS. + +In Churchill we find a signal specimen of a considerable class of +writers, concerning whom Goldsmith's words are true-- + + "Who, born for the universe, narrow'd their mind, + And to party gave up what was meant for mankind." + +Possessed of powers and natural endowments which might have made him, +under favourable circumstances, a poet, a hero, a man, and a saint, he +became, partly through his own fault, and partly through the force of +destiny, a satirist, an unfortunate politician, a profligate, died early; +and we must approach his corpse, as men do those of Burns and Byron, with +sorrow, wonder, admiration, and blame, blended into one strange, complex, +and yet not unnatural emotion. Like them, his life was short and +unhappy--his career triumphant, yet checquered--his powers +uncultivated--his passions unchecked--his poetry only a partial discovery +of his genius--his end sudden and melancholy--and his reputation, and +future place in the history of letters, hitherto somewhat uncertain. And +yet, like them, his very faults and errors, both as a man and a poet, +have acted, with many, as nails, fastening to a "sure place" his +reputation and the effect of his genius. + +Charles Churchill was born in Vine Street, Westminster, in February 1731. +He was the eldest son of the Rev. Charles Churchill, a rector in Essex, +as well as a curate, and lecturer of St John the Evangelist, Westminster. +As to the attainments of the poet's father, we know only that he was +qualified to superintend the studies of the son, during the intervals of +public tuition. At eight years of age, he was sent to Westminster School, +and placed under the care of Dr Nichols and Dr Pierson Lloyd, where his +proficiency in classical lore was by no means remarkable; nor did he give +any promise of the brilliance which afterwards distinguished his genius. +At fifteen, he stood as candidate for admission to the foundation at +Westminster, and carried it triumphantly. Shortly after, having by some +misdemeanour displeased the masters, he was compelled to compose, and +recite in the school-room, a poetical declamation in Latin, by way of +penance. This he accomplished in a masterly manner--to the astonishment +of his masters, and the delight of his school-fellows--some of whom +became afterwards distinguished men. We can fancy the scene at the day of +the recitation--the grave and big-wigged schoolmasters looking grimly +on--their aspect, however, becoming softer and brighter, as one large +hexameter rolls out after another--the strong, awkward, ugly boy, +unblushingly pouring forth his energetic lines--cheered by the sight of +the relaxing gravity of his teachers' looks--while around, you see the +bashful tremulous figure of poor Cowper, the small thin shape and bright +eye of Warren Hastings, and the waggish countenance of Colman--all +eagerly watching the reciter--and all, at last, distended and brightened +with joy at his signal triumph. + +At the age of eighteen, he stood for a fellowship in Merton College, but +without success--being defeated by older candidates. Shortly after, he +applied for matriculation at the University of Oxford, but is SAID to +have been rejected at his examination, in which, instead of answering the +questions proposed, he broke out into satirical reflections on the +abilities of his judges. From Oxford he repaired to Cambridge, where he +was admitted into Trinity College. Here, however, his stay was very +short,--he was probably repelled by the _chevaux-de-frise_ of the +mathematics;--and in a few weeks he returned to London, disgusted at both +universities, shaking their dust off his feet, and, perhaps, vowing +vengeance against them--a vow which he has kept in his poetry. In his +"Ghost," for instance, he thus ridiculed those forms of admission-- + + "Which Balaam's ass + As well as Balaam's self might pass, + And with his master take degrees, + Could he contrive to pay the fees." + +Penniless, and soured by disappointment, Churchill returned to his +father's house; and, being idle, soon obtained work from the proverbial +"taskmaster" of all idle people. Having become acquainted with a young +lady, named Scott, whose father lived in the vicinity of Westminster +School, he, with true poetic imprudence, married her privately in the +Fleet, to the great annoyance of both their parents. His father, however, +was much attached to and proud of his son, and at last was reconciled to +the match, and took the young couple home. Churchill passed one quiet +domestic year under the paternal roof. At its termination--for reasons +which are not known--he retired to Sunderland, in the north of England, +and seems there to have applied himself enthusiastically to the study of +poetry--commencing, at the same time, a course of theological reading, +with a view to the Church. He remained in Sunderland till the year 1753, +when he came back to London to take possession of a small fortune which +accrued to him through his wife. He had now reached the age of +twenty-two, and had been three years married. + +During the residence in the metropolis which succeeded, he frequented the +theatres, and came thus in contact with a field where he was to gather +his earliest and most untarnished laurels. In "The Rosciad," we find the +results of several years' keen and close observation of the actors of the +period, collected into one focus, and pointed and irradiated by the power +of genius. As Scott, while carelessly galloping in his youth through +Liddesdale, and listening to ballads and old-world stories, was "making +himself" into the mighty minstrel of the border--so this big, clumsy, +overgrown student, seated in the pit of Drury Lane, or exalted to the +one-shilling gallery of Covent Garden, was silently growing into the +greatest poet of the stage that, perhaps, ever lived. + +Soon after, he was ordained deacon by the Bishop of Bath and Wells, on +the curacy of Cadbury, in Somersetshire, where he immediately removed, +and entered on a career of active ministerial work. Such were the golden +opinions he gained in Cadbury, that, in 1756, although he had taken no +degree, nor could be said to have studied at either of the universities, +he was ordained priest by Dr Sherlock, the Bishop of London (celebrated +for his Sermons and his "Trial of the Witnesses"), on his father's curacy +of Rainham, Essex. Here he continued diligent in his pastoral +duties--blameless in his conduct, and attentive to his theological +studies. He seemed to have entirely escaped from the suction of the +stage--to have forsworn the Muses, and to have turned the eye of his +ambition away from the peaks of Parnassus to the summit of the Bishops' +Bench. + +But for Churchill's poor circumstances, it is likely that he would have +reached this elevation, as surely as did his great contemporary, and the +object of his implacable hatred and abuse, William Warburton. But his +early marriage, and his increasing responsibilities, produced pecuniary +embarrassments, and these must have tended gradually to sour him against +his profession, and to prepare his mind for that rupture with it which +ultimately ensued. To support himself and his family, he opened a school, +and met with considerable encouragement--although we suspect that his +scholars felt something of the spirit of the future satirist stirring in +the motions of his rod, and that he who afterwards lashed his century did +not spare his school. In the year 1758, his amiable and excellent father +died, and (a striking testimony both to his own and his son's early +worth) Charles was unanimously chosen to be his father's successor in the +curacy and lectureship of St John's. There he laboured for a time, +according to some statements, with much punctuality, energy, and +acceptance. After "The Rosciad" had established his name, he sold ten of +the sermons he had preached in St John's to a bookseller for £250. We +have not read them; but Dr Kippis has pronounced them utterly unworthy of +their author's fame--without a single gleam of his poetic fire--so poor, +indeed, that he supposes that they were borrowed from some dull elderly +divine, if not from Churchill's own father. This reminds us of a story +which was lately communicated to us about the famous William Godwin. He, +too, succeeded his father in his pastoral charge. Tinged, however, +already with heterodox views, he was by no means so popular as his father +had been. His own sermons were exceedingly cold and dry, but he possessed +a chestful of his father's, and used to read them frequently, by way of +grateful change to his hearers. The sermons of the elder Godwin were +recognised by the orthodoxy of their sentiment, and the dinginess of +their colour, and were much relished; and so long as the stock lasted, +the future author of "Caleb Williams" commanded a tolerable audience; but +so soon as he had read them all, and resumed his own lucubrations, his +hearers melted away, and he moved off to become a literateur in London. +Perhaps Churchill, in like manner, may have found that general audiences +like plain sense better than poetry. That he had ever much real piety or +zeal has been gravely doubted, and we share in the doubts. But although +he himself speaks slightingly, in one of his latter poems, of his +ministerial labours, he at least played his part with outward decorum. +His great objection to the office was still his small salary, which +amounted to scarcely £100 per annum. This compelled him to resume the +occupation of a tutor, first to the young ladies attending a +boarding-school in Queen Square, Bloomsbury, and then to several young +gentlemen who were prosecuting the study of the classics. + +When about twenty-seven years of age, he renewed his acquaintance with +Robert Lloyd, the son of Dr Lloyd, one of the masters of Westminster +School, and who had been an early chum of Churchill's. This young man had +discovered very promising abilities, alike at Westminster and at +Cambridge, and had been appointed usher in his father's seminary; but, +sick of the drudgery, and infected with a fierce thirst both for fame and +pleasure, had flung himself upon the literary arena. Although far +inferior to Churchill in genius, and indeed little better than a clever +copyist of his manner, he exerted a very pernicious influence on his +friend's conduct. He borrowed inspiration from Churchill, and gave him +infamy in exchange. The poet could do nothing by halves. Along with +Lloyd, he rushed into a wild career of dissipation. He became a nightly +frequenter of the theatres, taverns, and worse haunts. His wife, with +whom, after the first year, he never seems to have been happy, instead of +checking, outran her husband in extravagance and imprudence. He got +deeply involved in debt, and was repeatedly in danger of imprisonment, +till Dr Lloyd, his friend's father, nobly stept forward to his relief, +persuaded his creditors to accept five shillings in the pound, and +himself lent what was required to complete the sum. It is said that, when +afterwards Churchill had made money by the sale of his poems, he +voluntarily paid the whole of the original debt. + +Along with the new love of indulgence, there had arisen in his bosom the +old love of verse. Stimulated by intercourse with Lloyd, Colman, B. +Thornton, and other wits of the period, he had written a poem, in +Hudibrastic rhyme, entitled "The Bard." This he offered to one Waller, a +bookseller in Fleet Street, who rejected it with scorn. In this feeling +Churchill seems afterwards to have shared, as he never would consent to +its publication. Not at all discouraged, he sat down and wrote a satire +entitled "The Conclave," directed against the Dean and Chapter of +Westminster,--Dr Zachary Pearce, a favourite of Churchill's ire, being +then Dean. This would have been published but for the fear of legal +proceedings. It was extremely personal and severe. His third effort was +destined to be more successful. This was "The Rosciad," written, it is +said, after two months' close attendance on the theatres. This +excessively clever satire he offered to various booksellers, some say for +twenty pounds, others for five guineas. It was refused, and he had to +print it at his own expense. It appeared, without his name, in March +1761. Churchill now, like Byron, "awoke one morning and found himself +famous." A few days convinced him and all men that a decided hit had been +made, and that a strong new satirist had burst, like a comet, into the +sky-- + + "With fear of change perplexing" players. + +The effect was prodigious. The critics admired--the victims of his satire +writhed and raved--the public greedily bought, and all cried out, "Who +can this be?" The _Critical Review_, then conducted by Smollett, alone +opposed the general opinion. It accused Colman and Lloyd of having +concocted "The Rosciad," for the purpose of puffing themselves. This +compelled Churchill to quit his mask. He announced his name as the author +of the poem, and as preparing another--his "Apology"--addressed to the +_Critical Reviewers_, which accordingly appeared ere the close of April. +It proved a second bombshell, cast into the astonished town. Smollett was +keenly assailed in it, and had to write to Churchill, through Garrick, +that he was not the writer of the obnoxious critique. Garrick, himself +the hero of "The Rosciad," was here rather broadly reminded that heroes +are mortal, and that kings may be dethroned, and had to make humiliating +concessions to the fearless satirist. Fearless, indeed, and strong he +required to be, for many of his victims had vowed loud and deep to avenge +their quarrel by inflicting corporal chastisement on their foe. He armed +himself with a huge bludgeon, however, and stalked abroad and returned +home unharmed and unattempted. None cared to meddle with such a brawny +Hercules. + +In another way his enemies soon had their revenge. He had gained one +thousand pounds by his two poems, and this supplied him with the +materials of unlimited indulgence, which he did not fail to use. He threw +off every restraint. He donned, instead of his clerical costume, a blue +coat and gold-laced waistcoat. He separated from his wife, giving her, +indeed, a handsome allowance. His midnight potations became deeper and +more habitual. Dean Zachary Pearce, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, in +vain remonstrated. At last, on his parishioners taking the matter up, and +raising an outcry as to his neglect of duty, and the unbecoming character +of his dress, he resigned his curacy and lectureship, and became for the +rest of his life a literary and dissipated "man about town." + +In October 1761 he published a poem entitled "Night," addressed to Lloyd, +in which, while seeking to vindicate himself from the charges against his +_morale_, he in reality glories in his shame. His sudden celebrity had +perhaps acted as a glare of light, revealing faults that might have been +overlooked in an obscure person. With his dissipation, too, there mingled +some elements of generosity and compassion, as in the story told of him +by Charles Johnson in his "Chrysal" of the poet succouring a poor +starving girl of the town, whom he met in the midnight streets,--an +incident reminding one of the similar stories told of Dr Johnson, and +Burke, and realising the parable of the good Samaritan. Yet his conduct +on the whole could not be defended. + +His next poem was "The Ghost," which he published in parts, and continued +at intervals. It was a kind of rhymed diary or waste-book, in which he +deposited his every-day thoughts and feelings, without any order or +plan,--reminding us of "Tristram Shandy" or of "Don Juan," although not +so whimsically delightful as the former, nor so brilliant and poignant as +the latter. + +But now, in 1762, the Poet was to degrade or to sublimate into the +Politician, at the bidding of that gay magician, Jack Wilkes. That this +man was much better than a clever and pre-eminently lucky scoundrel, is +now denied by few. He had, indeed, immense _pluck_ and convivial +pleasantry, with considerable learning and talent. But he had no +principle, no character, little power of writing, and did not even +possess a particle of that mob eloquence which seduces multitudes. His +depravities and vices were far too gross even for that gross age. In the +very height of his reputation for patriotism, he was intriguing with the +ministry for a place for himself. And he became in his latter days, as +Burke had predicted (for we strongly suspect that Burke wrote the words +in "Junius"), "a silent senator," sate down "infamous and +contented,"--proving that it had only been "the tempest which had lifted +him from his place." + +Wilkes introduced himself to Churchill, and they became speedily +intimate. Soon after, indignant at the supremacy of Lord Bute, who, as a +royal favourite, had obtained a power in the country which had not been +equalled since Buckingham fell before the assassin Felton's knife, and +was employing all his influence to patronise the Scotch, Wilkes commenced +the _North Briton_. In this, from the first, he was assisted by +Churchill, who, however, did not write prose so vigorously as verse. He +had sent to the _North Briton_ a biting paper against the Scotch. On +reflection, he recalled and recast it in rhyme. It was "The Prophecy of +Famine;" and became so popular as to make a whole nation his enemies, and +all _their_ enemies his friends. This completely filled up the measure of +Churchill's triumph. He actually dressed his youngest son in the Highland +garb, took him everywhere along with him, and instructed him to say, when +asked why he was thus dressed, "Sir, my father hates the Scotch; and does +it to plague them." + +Lord Bute resigned early in 1763, and was succeeded by a ministry +comprising such men as Sir Francis Dashwood, and Lord Sandwich, who had +been intimates of Wilkes, and had shared with him in certain disgusting +orgies at Medmenham Abbey. They now, however, changed their tactics, and +became vehement upholders of morality and religion; and began to watch +their opportunity for pouncing on their quondam associate. This he +himself furnished by the famous _North Briton_, No. 45. That paper may +now seem, to those who read it, a not very powerful, and not very daring +diatribe. But the times were inflammable--the nation was frantic with +rage at the peace--the ministry were young, and willing to flesh their +new-got power in some victim or other; and Wilkes, in this paper, had now +exposed himself to their fury. Warrants were instantly issued to arrest +him and Churchill, as well as the publishers and printers. Wilkes was +newly arrested when Churchill walked into his room. Knowing that his +friend's name was also in the warrant, he adroitly said to Churchill, +"Good morrow, Mr Thomson; how is Mrs Thomson to-day; does _she dine in +the country?_" The poet took the hint--said that she was waiting on +him--took his leave, and retired to the country accordingly. + +Immediately after occurred the controversy between Hogarth and our poet. +While Wilkes's case was being tried, and Chief-Justice Pratt, afterwards +Lord Camden, was about to give the memorable decision in favour of the +accused, and in condemnation of general warrants, Hogarth was sitting in +the court, and immortalising Wilkes's villanous squint upon the canvas. +In July 1763, Churchill avenged his friend's quarrel by the savage +personalities of his "Epistle to William Hogarth." Here, while lauding +highly the painter's genius, he denounces his vanity, his envy, and makes +an unmanly and brutal attack on his supposed dotage. Hogarth, within a +month, replied by caricaturing Churchill as a bear with torn clerical +bands, paws in ruffles, a pot of porter in his right hand, and a knot of +LIES and _North Britons_ in his left. Churchill threatened him with a +renewed and severer assault in the shape of an elegy, but was dissuaded +from it by his mistress. + +This was Miss Carr, daughter of a respectable sculptor in Westminster, +whom Churchill had seduced. After a fortnight they were both struck with +remorse, agreed to separate, and, through the intercession of a friend, +the young lady was restored to her parents. Rendered miserable, however, +by the taunts of an elder sister, she, in absolute despair, cast herself +again on Churchill's protection, and they remained together till his +death. In his letters we find him, during one of his sober intervals, +living quietly with her in Richmond. In "The Conference," he makes some +allusions to this unhappy affair, and discovers the spirit, if not of +true penitence, certainly of keen remorse, and strong self-crimination. +In the autumn of 1763 he became the comforter of his friend, Lloyd, in +the Fleet, supported him in confinement, and opened a subscription for +the discharge of his heavy debts, which, owing to the backwardness of +others, proved of little service. + +Toward the close of this year, the _North Briton_ was ordered to be burnt +by the common hangman; and, on the motion of Lord Sandwich, Wilkes was +handed over for prosecution, for his infamous "Essay on Woman," a parody +on Pope's "Essay on Man"--(one Kidgell, a clergyman, had stolen a copy, +and informed the Government.) Lord Sandwich was backed by Warburton; and +the result was, Wilkes's expulsion from the House of Commons, and his +flight to France. He had previously fought a duel with one Martin, an +M.P., by whom he was severely wounded. All this furnished Churchill with +matter for his "Duellist," which even Horace Walpole pronounced +"glorious." In this vigorous production, he mercilessly lashes Martin, +Kidgell, Warburton, and especially Sandwich. At this time he, too, +purposed a retreat to France--a country where his name was already so +well known, that when the Honourable Mr Churchill, the son of a general +of the name, was asked, in Paris, if he were Churchill, the famous poet, +and replied that he was not, the answer of the Frenchman was, "_So much +the worse for you._" His time, however, to visit that coast, destined to +be so fatal to him, was not yet quite come. + +From Richmond he removed to Acton-Common, where he had a house furnished +with great elegance--"kept a post-chaise, saddle-horses, and +pointers--and fished, fowled, hunted, coursed, and lived in an easy +independent manner." There he continued his irregular but rapid and +energetic course of composition, pouring out poem after poem as if he +felt his time to be short, or as if he were spurred on by the secret +stings of misery and remorse. To "The Duellist" succeeded "The +Author,"--a poem more general and less poisoned with personalities than +any of his former. "Gotham," by far the most poetical of his works, came +next. When Lord Sandwich stood for the High-Stewardship of Cambridge, +Churchill's ancient grudge, as well as his itch for satire, revived, and +he improvised "The Candidate," a piece of hasty but terrible sarcasm. +With breathless and portentous rapidity followed "The Farewell," "The +Times," and "Independence," which was his last published production. Two +fragments were found among his MSS., one "A Dedication to Warburton," and +another, "The Journey," his latest effort, and in which the last line now +seems prophetic-- + + "_I on my journey all alone proceed_." + +A far and final journey was before this great and ill-fated poet. He was +seized with one of those sudden longings to see a friend, which are not +uncommon with the impulsive. He determined to visit Wilkes at Boulogne, +and conveyed his purpose to his brother John in the following +note:--"Dear Jack, adieu, C.C." On the 22d of October 1764, he started +for France, met Wilkes; but on the 29th was seized with miliary fever, +under which, while imprudently removed from his bed to be conveyed at his +own desire to England, his constitution sunk, and he expired on the 4th +of November, in the thirty-third year of his age. He is said to have died +calmly and firmly, rebuking the excessive grief of his friends, and +repeating some manly but not very Christian lines from his own poetry. By +a will made during his sickness, he left an annuity of sixty pounds to +his wife (in addition, we suppose, to her former allowance), fifty pounds +a-year to Miss Carr, besides providing for his two boys, and leaving +mourning rings to his more intimate friends. Wilkes got the charge of all +his works. His body was brought to Dover, where he now sleeps in an old +churchyard, which once belonged to the church of St Martin, with a stone +over him, bearing his age, the date of his death, and this line from one +of his own poems-- + + "Life to the last enjoy'd, here Churchill lies." + +The words which he is reported to have used on his deathbed, _should_ +have been inscribed on the stone-- + + "What a fool I have been!" + +Hogarth had expired on the 25th of October, ten days before his opponent. +Lloyd was finishing his dinner, when the news of his friend's death +arrived. He was seized with sudden sickness, and crying out, "I shall +soon follow poor Charles," was carried to a bed, whence he was never to +rise. Churchill's favourite sister, Patty, who had been engaged to Lloyd, +soon afterwards sank under the double blow. The premature death of this +most popular of the poets of the time, excited a great sensation. His +furniture and books sold excessively high; a steel pen, for instance, for +five pounds, and a pair of plated spurs for sixteen guineas. Wilkes +talked much about his "dear Churchill," but, with the exception of +burning a MS. fragmentary satire, which Churchill had begun against +Colman and Thornton, _two of his intimate friends_, and erecting an urn +to him near his cottage in the Isle of Wight, with a flaming Latin +inscription, he did nothing for his memory. The poet's brother, John, an +apothecary, survived him only one year; and his two sons, Charles and +John, inherited the vices without the genius of their father. There was, +as late as 1825, a grand-daughter of his, a Mary Churchill, who had been +a governess, surviving as a patient in St George's Hospital,--a +characteristic close to such a wayward, unfortunate race. + +For the errors of Churchill, as a man, there does not seem to exist any +plea of palliation, except what may be found in the poverty of his early +circumstances, and in the strength of his later passions. The worst is, +that he never seems to have been seduced into sin through the bewildering +and bewitching mists of imagination. It was naked sensuality that he +appeared to worship, and he always sinned with his eyes open. Yet his +moral sense, though blunted, was never obliterated; and many traits of +generosity and good feeling mingled with his excesses. Choosing satire as +the field of his Muse, was partly the cause and partly the effect of an +imperfect _morale_. We are far from averring that no satirist can be a +good man, but certainly most satirists have either been very good or very +bad men. To the former class have belonged Cowper, Crabbe, &c.; to the +latter, such names as Swift, Dryden, Byron, and, we must add, Churchill. +Robust manhood, honesty, and hatred of pretence, we admit him to have +possessed; but of genuine love to humanity he seems to have been as +destitute as of fear of God, or regard for the ordinary moralities. + +We have to deal with him, however, principally as a poet; and there can, +we think, now be but one opinion as to his peculiar merits. He possessed, +beyond all doubt, a strong understanding, a lively imagination, a keen +perception of character--especially in its defects and +weaknesses--considerable wit without any humour, fierce passions and +hatreds, and a boundless command of a loose, careless, but bold and +energetic diction; add to this, a constant tone of self-assertion, and +rugged independence. He was emphatically a John Bull, sublimated. He +rushed into the poetic arena more like a pugilist than a poet, laying +about him on all sides, giving and taking strong blows, and approving +himself, in the phrase of "the fancy," game to the backbone. His faults, +besides those incident to most satirists,--such as undue severity, +intrusion into private life, anger darkening into malignity, and spleen +fermenting into venom,--were carelessness of style, inequality, and want +of condensation. Compared to the satires of Pope, Churchill's are far +less polished, and less pointed. Pope stabs with a silver +bodkin--Churchill hews down his opponent with a broadsword. Pope whispers +a word in his enemy's ear which withers the heart within him, and he +sinks lifeless to the ground; Churchill pours out a torrent of blasting +invective which at once kills and buries his foe. Dryden was his +favourite model; and although he has written no such condensed +masterpieces of satire as the characters of Shaftesbury and Buckingham, +yet his works as a whole are not much inferior, and justify the idea that +had his life been spared, he might have risen to the level of "Glorious +John." His versification, too, is decidedly of the Drydenic type. It is a +free, fierce, rushing, sometimes staggering, race across meadow, moor, +and mountain, dreading nothing except repose and languor, the lines +chasing, and sometimes tumbling over each other in their haste, like +impatient hounds at a fox-hunt. But more than Dryden, we think, has +Churchill displayed the genuine poetic faculty, as well as often a +loftier tone of moral indignation. This latter feeling is the inspiration +of "The Candidate," and of "The Times," which, although coarse in +subject, and coarse in style, burns with a fire of righteous indignation, +reminding you of Juvenal. The finest display of his imaginative power is +in "Gotham," which is throughout a glorious rhapsody, resembling some of +the best prose effusions of Christopher North, and abounding in such +lines as these:-- + + "The cedar, whose top mates the highest cloud, + Whilst his old father Lebanon grows proud + Of such a child, and _his vast body laid + Out many a mile, enjoys the filial shade_." + +It is of "Gotham" that Cowper says that few writers have equalled it for +its "bold and daring strokes of fancy; its numbers so hazardously +ventured upon, and so happily finished; its matter so compressed, and yet +so clear; its colouring so sparingly laid on, and yet with such a +beautiful effect." + +One great objection to Churchill's poetry lies in the temporary interest +of the subjects to which most of it is devoted. The same objection, +however, applies to the letters of Junius, and to the speeches and papers +of Burke; and the same answer to it will avail for all. Junius, by the +charm of his style, by his classic severities, and purged, poignant +venom, contrives to interest us in the paltry political feuds of the +past. Burke's does the same, by the general principles he extracts from, +and by the poetry with which he gilds, the rubbish. And so does +Churchill, by the weighty sense, the vigorous versification, the +inextinguishable spirit, and the trenchant satire and invective of his +song. The wretched intrigues of Newcastle and Bute, the squabbles of the +aldermen and councillors of the day, the petty quarrels of petty patriots +among themselves, and the poverty, spites, and frailties of forgotten +players, are all shown as in a magnifying-glass, and shine upon us +transfigured in the light of the poet's genius. + +We have not room for lengthened criticism on all his separate +productions. "The Rosciad" is the most finished, pointed, and Pope-like +of his satires; it has more memorable and quotable lines than any of the +rest. "The Prophecy of Famine" is full of trash; but contains, too, many +lines in which political hatred, through its intense fervour, sparkles +into poetry: such as-- + + "No birds except as birds of passage flew;" + +the account of the creatures which, when admitted into the ark, + + "Their saviour shunn'd, and rankled in the dark;" + +and the famous line-- + + "Where half-starved spiders prey on half-starved flies." + +"The Ghost" is the least felicitous of all his poems, although its +picture of Pomposo (Dr Johnson) is exceedingly clever. The "Dedication to +Warburton" is a strain of terrible irony, but fails to damage the +Atlantean Bishop. "The Journey" is not only interesting as his last +production, but contains some affecting personal allusions, intermingled +with its stinging scorn--like pale passion-flowers blended with nettles +and nightshade. The most of the others have been already characterised. + +Churchill has had two very formidable enemies to his fame and detractors +from his genius--Samuel Johnson and Christopher North. The first +pronounced him "a prolific blockhead," "a huge and fertile crab-tree;" +the second has wielded the knout against his back with peculiar gusto and +emphasis, in a paper on satire and satirists, published in _Blackwood_ +for 1828. Had Churchill been alive, he could have easily "retorted +scorn"--set a "Christophero" over against the portrait of "Pomposo:" the +result had been, as always in such cases, a drawn battle; and damage +would have accrued, not to the special literateurs, but to the general +literary character. Prejudice or private pique always lurks at the bottom +of such reckless assaults, and all men in the long run feel so. In +Johnson's case, the _causa belli_ was unquestionably political +difference; and in Christopher North's it was the love of Scotland which +so warmly glowed in his bosom, and which created a glow of hatred no less +warm against Scotland's ablest, fiercest, and most inveterate poetical +foe. + +Churchill's poetry only requires to be better known to be highly +appreciated for its masculine and thoroughly English qualities. In taking +our leave of him, we are again haunted by the signal resemblance he +bears, both in mental characteristics and in history, to Byron. Both were +powerful in satire, and still more so in purely poetic composition. Both +were irregular in life, and unfortunate in marriage. Both were +distinguished by fitful generosity, and careless tenderness. Both +obtained at once, and during all their career maintained, a pre-eminence +in popularity over all their contemporaries. Both were severely handled +by reviewers, and underrated by rivals. Both assumed an attitude of +defiance to the world, and stood ostentatiously at bay. Both mingled +largely in the politics of their day, and both took the liberal side. +Both felt and expressed keen remorse for their errors, and purposed and +in part began reformation. Both died at an untimely age by fever, and in +a foreign land. The dust of both, not admitted into Westminster Abbey, +nevertheless reposes in their native soil, and attracts daily visitors, +who lean, and weep, and wonder over it--partly in sympathy with their +fate--partly in pity for their errors--and partly in admiration of their +genius. + + * * * * * + +NOTE.--We have not alluded to various anecdotes told about Churchill's +journey to Wales, about his setting up as a cider merchant, &c., because +some of them appear extremely apocryphal. The author of an article on him +in the _Edinburgh Review_ for January 1845 asserts that he was rejected +from Oxford because he had already been married. But, if so, why was he +admitted to Cambridge? Besides, the writer adduces no proof of his +assertion. The paper, otherwise, is worthy of its author and of the poet. + + * * * * * + +CONTENTS. + +THE ROSCIAD +THE APOLOGY +NIGHT +THE PROPHECY OF FAMINE +AN EPISTLE TO WILLIAM HOGARTH +THE DUELLIST +GOTHAM +THE AUTHOR +THE CONFERENCE +THE GHOST +THE CANDIDATE +THE FAREWELL +THE TIMES +INDEPENDENCE +THE JOURNEY +DEDICATION TO CHURCHILL'S SERMONS +LINES WRITTEN IN WINDSOR PARK + + * * * * * + +THE ROSCIAD.[1] + + Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse + Boldly defies all mean and partial views; + With honest freedom plays the critic's part, + And praises, as she censures, from the heart. + +Roscius[2] deceased, each high aspiring player +Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair. +The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage +No longer whine in love, and rant in rage; +The monarch quits his throne, and condescends +Humbly to court the favour of his friends; +For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps, +And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps. +Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome, +To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume; 10 +In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war, +And show where honour bled in every scar. + But though bare merit might in Rome appear +The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here; +We form our judgment in another way; +And they will best succeed, who best can pay: +Those who would gain the votes of British tribes, +Must add to force of merit, force of bribes. + What can an actor give? In every age +Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage; 20 +Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player, +Appear as often as their image there: +They can't, like candidate for other seat, +Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat. +Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon, +And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune: +But what they have they give; could Clive[3] do more, +Though for each million he had brought home four? + Shuter[4] keeps open house at Southwark fair, +And hopes the friends of humour will be there; 30 +In Smithfield, Yates[5] prepares the rival treat +For those who laughter love, instead of meat; +Foote,[6] at Old House,--for even Foote will be, +In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea; +Which Wilkinson[7] at second-hand receives, +And at the New, pours water on the leaves. + The town divided, each runs several ways, +As passion, humour, interest, party sways. +Things of no moment, colour of the hair, +Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair, 40 +A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced, +Conciliate favour, or create distaste. + From galleries loud peals of laughter roll, +And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll. +Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart, +Palmer! oh! Palmer[8] tops the jaunty part. +Seated in pit, the dwarf with aching eyes, +Looks up, and vows that Barry's[9] out of size; +Whilst to six feet the vigorous stripling grown, +Declares that Garrick is another Coan.[10] 50 + When place of judgment is by whim supplied, +And our opinions have their rise in pride; +When, in discoursing on each mimic elf, +We praise and censure with an eye to self; +All must meet friends, and Ackman[11] bids as fair, +In such a court, as Garrick, for the chair. + At length agreed, all squabbles to decide, +By some one judge the cause was to be tried; +But this their squabbles did afresh renew, +Who should be judge in such a trial:--who? 60 + For Johnson some; but Johnson, it was fear'd, +Would be too grave; and Sterne[12] too gay appear'd; +Others for Franklin[13] voted; but 'twas known, +He sicken'd at all triumphs but his own: +For Colman[14] many, but the peevish tongue +Of prudent Age found out that he was young: +For Murphy[15] some few pilfering wits declared, +Whilst Folly clapp'd her hands, and Wisdom stared. + To mischief train'd, e'en from his mother's womb, +Grown old in fraud, though yet in manhood's bloom, 70 +Adopting arts by which gay villains rise, +And reach the heights which honest men despise; +Mute at the bar, and in the senate loud, +Dull 'mongst the dullest, proudest of the proud; +A pert, prim, prater of the northern race,[16] +Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face, +Stood forth,--and thrice he waved his lily hand, +And thrice he twirled his tye, thrice stroked his band:-- + At Friendship's call (thus oft, with traitorous aim, +Men void of faith usurp Faith's sacred name) 80 +At Friendship's call I come, by Murphy sent, +Who thus by me develops his intent: +But lest, transfused, the spirit should be lost, +That spirit which, in storms of rhetoric toss'd, +Bounces about, and flies like bottled beer, +In his own words his own intentions hear. + Thanks to my friends; but to vile fortunes born, +No robes of fur these shoulders must adorn. +Vain your applause, no aid from thence I draw; +Vain all my wit, for what is wit in law? 90 +Twice, (cursed remembrance!) twice I strove to gain +Admittance 'mongst the law-instructed train, +Who, in the Temple and Gray's Inn, prepare +For clients' wretched feet the legal snare; +Dead to those arts which polish and refine, +Deaf to all worth, because that worth was mine, +Twice did those blockheads startle at my name, +And foul rejection gave me up to shame. +To laws and lawyers then I bade adieu, +And plans of far more liberal note pursue. 100 +Who will may be a judge--my kindling breast +Burns for that chair which Roscius once possess'd. +Here give your votes, your interest here exert, +And let success for once attend desert. + With sleek appearance, and with ambling pace, +And, type of vacant head, with vacant face, +The Proteus Hill[17] put in his modest plea,-- +Let Favour speak for others, Worth for me.-- +For who, like him, his various powers could call +Into so many shapes, and shine in all? 110 +Who could so nobly grace the motley list, +Actor, Inspector, Doctor, Botanist? +Knows any one so well--sure no one knows-- +At once to play, prescribe, compound, compose? +Who can--but Woodward[18] came,--Hill slipp'd away, +Melting, like ghosts, before the rising day. + With that low cunning, which in fools[19] supplies, +And amply too, the place of being wise, +Which Nature, kind, indulgent parent, gave +To qualify the blockhead for a knave; 120 +With that smooth falsehood, whose appearance charms, +And Reason of each wholesome doubt disarms, +Which to the lowest depths of guile descends, +By vilest means pursues the vilest ends; +Wears Friendship's mask for purposes of spite, +Pawns in the day, and butchers in the night; +With that malignant envy which turns pale, +And sickens, even if a friend prevail, +Which merit and success pursues with hate, +And damns the worth it cannot imitate; 130 +With the cold caution of a coward's spleen, +Which fears not guilt, but always seeks a screen, +Which keeps this maxim ever in her view-- +What's basely done, should be done safely too; +With that dull, rooted, callous impudence, +Which, dead to shame and every nicer sense, +Ne'er blush'd, unless, in spreading Vice's snares, +She blunder'd on some virtue unawares; +With all these blessings, which we seldom find +Lavish'd by Nature on one happy mind, 140 +A motley figure, of the Fribble tribe, +Which heart can scarce conceive, or pen describe, +Came simpering on--to ascertain whose sex +Twelve sage impannell'd matrons would perplex. +Nor male, nor female; neither, and yet both; +Of neuter gender, though of Irish growth; +A six-foot suckling, mincing in Its gait; +Affected, peevish, prim, and delicate; +Fearful It seem'd, though of athletic make, +Lest brutal breezes should too roughly shake 150 +Its tender form, and savage motion spread, +O'er Its pale cheeks, the horrid manly red. + Much did It talk, in Its own pretty phrase, +Of genius and of taste, of players and of plays; +Much too of writings, which Itself had wrote, +Of special merit, though 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 misplaced applause; 160 +Then, with a self-complacent, jutting air, +It smiled, It smirk'd, It wriggled to the chair; +And, with an awkward briskness not Its own, +Looking around, and perking on the throne, +Triumphant seem'd; when that strange savage dame, +Known but to few, or only known by name, +Plain Common-Sense 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. 170 + Nor shall the Muse, (for even there the pride +Of this vain nothing shall be mortified) +Nor shall the Muse (should Fate ordain her rhymes, +Fond, pleasing thought! to live in after-times) +With such a trifler's name her pages blot; +Known be the character, the thing forgot: +Let It, to disappoint each future aim, +Live without sex, and die without a name! + Cold-blooded critics, by enervate sires +Scarce hammer'd out, when Nature's feeble fires 180 +Glimmer'd their last; whose sluggish blood, half froze, +Creeps labouring through the veins; whose heart ne'er glows +With fancy-kindled heat;--a servile race, +Who, in mere want of fault, all merit place; +Who blind obedience pay to ancient schools, +Bigots to Greece, and slaves to musty rules; +With solemn consequence declared that none +Could judge that cause but Sophocles alone. +Dupes to their fancied excellence, the crowd, +Obsequious to the sacred dictate, bow'd. 190 + When, from amidst the throng, a youth stood forth,[20] +Unknown his person, not unknown his worth; +His look bespoke applause; alone he stood, +Alone he stemm'd the mighty critic flood. +He talk'd of ancients, as the man became +Who prized our own, but envied not their fame; +With noble reverence spoke of Greece and Rome, +And scorn'd to tear the laurel from the tomb. + But, more than just to other countries grown, +Must we turn base apostates to our own? 200 +Where do these words of Greece and Rome excel, +That England may not please the ear as well? +What mighty magic's in the place or air, +That all perfection needs must centre there? +In states, let strangers blindly be preferr'd; +In state of letters, merit should be heard. +Genius is of no country; her pure ray +Spreads all abroad, as general as the day; +Foe to restraint, from place to place she flies, +And may hereafter e'en in Holland rise. 210 +May not, (to give a pleasing fancy scope, +And cheer a patriot heart with patriot hope) +May not some great extensive genius raise +The name of Britain 'bove Athenian praise; +And, whilst brave thirst of fame his bosom warms, +Make England great in letters as in arms? +There may--there hath,--and Shakspeare's Muse aspires +Beyond the reach of Greece; with native fires +Mounting aloft, he wings his daring flight, +Whilst Sophocles below stands trembling at his height. 220 + Why should we then abroad for judges roam, +When abler judges we may find at home? +Happy in tragic and in comic powers, +Have we not Shakspeare?--Is not Jonson ours? +For them, your natural judges, Britons, vote; +They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons wrote. + He said, and conquer'd--Sense resumed her sway, +And disappointed pedants stalk'd away. +Shakspeare and Jonson, with deserved applause, +Joint-judges were ordain'd to try the cause. 230 +Meantime the stranger every voice employ'd, +To ask or tell his name. Who is it? Lloyd. + Thus, when the aged friends of Job stood mute, +And, tamely prudent, gave up the dispute, +Elihu, with the decent warmth of youth, +Boldly stood forth the advocate of Truth; +Confuted Falsehood, and disabled Pride, +Whilst baffled Age stood snarling at his side. + The day of trial's fix'd, nor any fear +Lest day of trial should be put off here. 240 +Causes but seldom for delay can call +In courts where forms are few, fees none at all. + The morning came, nor find I that the Sun, +As he on other great events hath done, +Put on a brighter robe than what he wore +To go his journey in, the day before. + Full in the centre of a spacious plain, +On plan entirely new, where nothing vain, +Nothing magnificent appear'd, but Art +With decent modesty perform'd her part, 250 +Rose a tribunal: from no other court +It borrow'd ornament, or sought support: +No juries here were pack'd to kill or clear, +No bribes were taken, nor oaths broken here; +No gownsmen, partial to a client's cause, +To their own purpose turn'd the pliant laws; +Each judge was true and steady to his trust, +As Mansfield wise, and as old Foster[21] just. + In the first seat, in robe of various dyes, +A noble wildness flashing from his eyes, 260 +Sat Shakspeare: in one hand a wand he bore, +For mighty wonders famed in days of yore; +The other held a globe, which to his will +Obedient turn'd, and own'd the master's skill: +Things of the noblest kind his genius drew, +And look'd through Nature at a single view: +A loose he gave to his unbounded soul, +And taught new lands to rise, new seas to roll; +Call'd into being scenes unknown before, +And passing Nature's bounds, was something more. 270 + Next Jonson sat, in ancient learning train'd, +His rigid judgment Fancy's flights restrain'd; +Correctly pruned each wild luxuriant thought, +Mark'd out her course, nor spared a glorious fault. +The book of man he read with nicest art, +And ransack'd all the secrets of the heart; +Exerted penetration's utmost force, +And traced each passion to its proper source; +Then, strongly mark'd, in liveliest colours drew, +And brought each foible forth to public view: 280 +The coxcomb felt a lash in every word, +And fools, hung out, their brother fools deterr'd. +His comic humour kept the world in awe, +And Laughter frighten'd Folly more than Law. + But, hark! the trumpet sounds, the crowd gives way, +And the procession comes in just array. + Now should I, in some sweet poetic line, +Offer up incense at Apollo's shrine, +Invoke the Muse to quit her calm abode, +And waken Memory with a sleeping Ode.[22] 290 +For how shall mortal man, in mortal verse, +Their titles, merits, or their names rehearse? +But give, kind Dulness! memory and rhyme, +We 'll put off Genius till another time. + First, Order came,--with solemn step, and slow, +In measured time his feet were taught to go. +Behind, from time to time, he cast his eye, +Lest this should quit his place, that step awry. +Appearances to save his only care; +So things seem right, no matter what they are. 300 +In him his parents saw themselves renew'd, +Begotten by Sir Critic on Saint Prude. + Then came drum, trumpet, hautboy, fiddle, flute; +Next snuffer, sweeper, shifter, soldier, mute: +Legions of angels all in white advance; +Furies, all fire, come forward in a dance; +Pantomime figures then are brought to view, +Fools, hand in hand with fools, go two by two. +Next came the treasurer of either house; +One with full purse, t'other with not a sous. 310 +Behind, a group of figures awe create, +Set off with all the impertinence of state; +By lace and feather consecrate to fame, +Expletive kings, and queens without a name. + Here Havard,[23] all serene, in the same strains, +Loves, hates, and rages, triumphs and complains; +His easy vacant face proclaim'd a heart +Which could not feel emotions, nor impart. +With him came mighty Davies:[24] on my life, +That Davies hath a very pretty wife! 320 +Statesman all over, in plots famous grown, +He mouths a sentence, as curs mouth a bone. + Next Holland[25] came: with truly tragic stalk, +He creeps, he flies,--a hero should not walk. +As if with Heaven he warr'd, his eager eyes +Planted their batteries against the skies; +Attitude, action, air, pause, start, sigh, groan, +He borrow'd, and made use of as his own. +By fortune thrown on any other stage, +He might, perhaps, have pleased an easy age; 330 +But now appears a copy, and no more, +Of something better we have seen before. +The actor who would build a solid fame, +Must Imitation's servile arts disclaim; +Act from himself, on his own bottom stand; +I hate e'en Garrick thus at second-hand. + Behind came King.[26]--Bred up in modest lore, +Bashful and young, he sought Hibernia's shore; +Hibernia, famed, 'bove every other grace, +For matchless intrepidity of face. 340 +From her his features caught the generous flame, +And bid defiance to all sense of shame. +Tutor'd by her all rivals to surpass, +'Mongst Drury's sons he comes, and shines in Brass. + Lo, Yates[27]! Without the least finesse of art +He gets applause--I wish he'd get his part. +When hot Impatience is in full career, +How vilely 'Hark ye! hark ye!' grates the ear; +When active fancy from the brain is sent, +And stands on tip-toe for some wish'd event, 350 +I hate those careless blunders, which recall +Suspended sense, and prove it fiction all. + In characters of low and vulgar mould, +Where Nature's coarsest features we behold; +Where, destitute of every decent grace, +Unmanner'd jests are blurted in your face, +There Yates with justice strict attention draws, +Acts truly from himself, and gains applause. +But when, to please himself or charm his wife, +He aims at something in politer life, 360 +When, blindly thwarting Nature's stubborn plan, +He treads the stage by way of gentleman, +The clown, who no one touch of breeding knows, +Looks like Tom Errand[28] dress'd in Clincher's clothes. +Fond of his dress, fond of his person grown, +Laugh'd at by all, and to himself unknown, +Prom side to side he struts, he smiles, he prates, +And seems to wonder what's become of Yates. + Woodward[29], endow'd with various tricks of face, +Great master in the science of grimace, 370 +From Ireland ventures, favourite of the town, +Lured by the pleasing prospect of renown; +A speaking harlequin, made up of whim, +He twists, he twines, he tortures every limb; +Plays to the eye with a mere monkey's art, +And leaves to sense the conquest of the heart. +We laugh indeed, but, on reflection's birth, +We wonder at ourselves, and curse our mirth. +His walk of parts he fatally misplaced, +And inclination fondly took for taste; 380 +Hence hath the town so often seen display'd +Beau in burlesque, high life in masquerade. + But when bold wits,--not such as patch up plays, +Cold and correct, in these insipid days,-- +Some comic character, strong featured, urge +To probability's extremest verge; +Where modest Judgment her decree suspends, +And, for a time, nor censures, nor commends; +Where critics can't determine on the spot +Whether it is in nature found or not, 390 +There Woodward safely shall his powers exert, +Nor fail of favour where he shows desert; +Hence he in Bobadil such praises bore, +Such worthy praises, Kitely[30] scarce had more. + By turns transform'd into all kind of shapes, +Constant to none, Foote laughs, cries, struts, and scrapes: +Now in the centre, now in van or rear, +The Proteus shifts, bawd, parson, auctioneer. +His strokes of humour, and his bursts of sport, +Are all contain'd in this one word--distort. 400 + Doth a man stutter, look a-squint, or halt? +Mimics draw humour out of Nature's fault, +With personal defects their mirth adorn, +And bang misfortunes out to public scorn. +E'en I, whom Nature cast in hideous mould, +Whom, having made, she trembled to behold, +Beneath the load of mimicry may groan, +And find that Nature's errors are my own. + Shadows behind of Foote and Woodward came; +Wilkinson this, Obrien[31] was that name. 410 +Strange to relate, but wonderfully true, +That even shadows have their shadows too! +With not a single comic power endued, +The first a mere, mere mimic's mimic stood; +The last, by Nature form'd to please, who shows, +In Johnson's Stephen, which way genius grows, +Self quite put off, affects with too much art +To put on Woodward in each mangled part; +Adopts his shrug, his wink, his stare; nay, more, +His voice, and croaks; for Woodward croak'd before. 420 +When a dull copier simple grace neglects, +And rests his imitation in defects, +We readily forgive; but such vile arts +Are double guilt in men of real parts. + By Nature form'd in her perversest mood, +With no one requisite of art endued, +Next Jackson came[32]--Observe that settled glare, +Which better speaks a puppet than a player; +List to that voice--did ever Discord hear +Sounds so well fitted to her untuned ear? 430 +When to enforce some very tender part, +The right hand slips by instinct on the heart, +His soul, of every other thought bereft, +Is anxious only where to place the left; +He sobs and pants to soothe his weeping spouse; +To soothe his weeping mother, turns and bows: +Awkward, embarrass'd, stiff, without the skill +Of moving gracefully, or standing still, +One leg, as if suspicious of his brother, +Desirous seems to run away from t'other. 440 + Some errors, handed down from age to age, +Plead custom's force, and still possess the stage. +That's vile: should we a parent's faults adore, +And err, because our fathers err'd before? +If, inattentive to the author's mind, +Some actors made the jest they could not find; +If by low tricks they marr'd fair Nature's mien, +And blurr'd the graces of the simple scene, +Shall we, if reason rightly is employ'd, +Not see their faults, or seeing, not avoid? 450 +When Falstaff stands detected in a lie, +Why, without meaning, rolls Love's[33] glassy eye? +Why? There's no cause--at least no cause we know-- +It was the fashion twenty years ago. +Fashion!--a word which knaves and fools may use, +Their knavery and folly to excuse. +To copy beauties, forfeits all pretence +To fame--to copy faults, is want of sense. +Yet (though in some particulars he fails, +Some few particulars, where mode prevails) 460 +If in these hallow'd times, when, sober, sad, +All gentlemen are melancholy mad; +When 'tis not deem'd so great a crime by half +To violate a vestal as to laugh, +Rude mirth may hope, presumptuous, to engage +An act of toleration for the stage; +And courtiers will, like reasonable creatures, +Suspend vain fashion, and unscrew their features; +Old Falstaff, play'd by Love, shall please once more, +And humour set the audience in a roar. 470 + Actors I've seen, and of no vulgar name, +Who, being from one part possess'd of fame, +Whether they are to laugh, cry, whine, or bawl, +Still introduce that favourite part in all. +Here, Love, be cautious--ne'er be thou betray'd +To call in that wag Falstaff's dangerous aid; +Like Goths of old, howe'er he seems a friend, +He'll seize that throne you wish him to defend. +In a peculiar mould by Humour cast, +For Falstaff framed--himself the first and last-- 480 +He stands aloof from all--maintains his state, +And scorns, like Scotsmen, to assimilate. +Vain all disguise--too plain we see the trick, +Though the knight wears the weeds of Dominic[34]; +And Boniface[35] disgraced, betrays the smack, +In _anno Domini_, of Falstaff sack. + Arms cross'd, brows bent, eyes fix'd, feet marching slow, +A band of malcontents with spleen o'erflow; +Wrapt in Conceit's impenetrable fog, +Which Pride, like Phoebus, draws from every bog, 490 +They curse the managers, and curse the town +Whose partial favour keeps such merit down. + But if some man, more hardy than the rest, +Should dare attack these gnatlings in their nest, +At once they rise with impotence of rage, +Whet their small stings, and buzz about the stage: +'Tis breach of privilege! Shall any dare +To arm satiric truth against a player? +Prescriptive rights we plead, time out of mind; +Actors, unlash'd themselves, may lash mankind. 500 + What! shall Opinion then, of nature free, +And liberal as the vagrant air, agree +To rust in chains like these, imposed by things, +Which, less than nothing, ape the pride of kings? +No--though half-poets with half-players join +To curse the freedom of each honest line; +Though rage and malice dim their faded cheek, +What the Muse freely thinks, she'll freely speak; +With just disdain of every paltry sneer, +Stranger alike to flattery and fear, 510 +In purpose fix'd, and to herself a rule, +Public contempt shall wait the public fool. + Austin[36] would always glisten in French silks; +Ackman would Norris be, and Packer, Wilkes: +For who, like Ackman, can with humour please; +Who can, like Packer, charm with sprightly ease? +Higher than all the rest, see Bransby strut: +A mighty Gulliver in Lilliput! +Ludicrous Nature! which at once could show +A man so very high, so very low! 520 + If I forget thee, Blakes, or if I say +Aught hurtful, may I never see thee play. +Let critics, with a supercilious air, +Decry thy various merit, and declare +Frenchman is still at top; but scorn that rage +Which, in attacking thee, attacks the age. +French follies, universally embraced, +At once provoke our mirth, and form our taste. + Long, from a nation ever hardly used, +At random censured, wantonly abused, 530 +Have Britons drawn their sport; with partial view +Form'd general notions from the rascal few; +Condemn'd a people, as for vices known, +Which from their country banish'd, seek our own. +At length, howe'er, the slavish chain is broke, +And Sense, awaken'd, scorns her ancient yoke: +Taught by thee, Moody[37], we now learn to raise +Mirth from their foibles; from their virtues, praise. + Next came the legion which our summer Bayes[38], +From alleys, here and there, contrived to raise, 540 +Flush'd with vast hopes, and certain to succeed, +With wits who cannot write, and scarce can read. +Veterans no more support the rotten cause, +No more from Elliot's[39] worth they reap applause; +Each on himself determines to rely; +Be Yates disbanded, and let Elliot fly. +Never did players so well an author fit, +To Nature dead, and foes declared to wit. +So loud each tongue, so empty was each head, +So much they talk'd, so very little said, 550 +So wondrous dull, and yet so wondrous vain, +At once so willing, and unfit to reign, +That Reason swore, nor would the oath recall, +Their mighty master's soul inform'd them all. + As one with various disappointments sad, +Whom dulness only kept from being mad, +Apart from all the rest great Murphy came-- +Common to fools and wits, the rage of fame. +What though the sons of Nonsense hail him Sire, +Auditor, Author, Manager, and Squire, 560 +His restless soul's ambition stops not there; +To make his triumphs perfect, dub him Player. + In person tall, a figure form'd to please, +If symmetry could charm deprived of ease; +When motionless he stands, we all approve; +What pity 'tis the thing was made to move. +His voice, in one dull, deep, unvaried sound, +Seems to break forth from caverns under ground; +From hollow chest the low sepulchral note +Unwilling heaves, and struggles in his throat. 570 + Could authors butcher'd give an actor grace, +All must to him resign the foremost place. +When he attempts, in some one favourite part, +To ape the feelings of a manly heart, +His honest features the disguise defy, +And his face loudly gives his tongue the lie. + Still in extremes, he knows no happy mean, +Or raving mad, or stupidly serene. +In cold-wrought scenes, the lifeless actor flags; +In passion, tears the passion into rags. 580 +Can none remember? Yes--I know all must-- +When in the Moor he ground his teeth to dust, +When o'er the stage he Folly's standard bore, +Whilst Common-Sense stood trembling at the door. + How few are found with real talents blest! +Fewer with Nature's gifts contented rest. +Man from his sphere eccentric starts astray: +All hunt for fame, but most mistake the way. +Bred at St Omer's to the shuffling trade, +The hopeful youth a Jesuit might have made; 590 +With various readings stored his empty skull, +Learn'd without sense, and venerably dull; +Or, at some banker's desk, like many more, +Content to tell that two and two make four; +His name had stood in City annals fair, +And prudent Dulness mark'd him for a mayor. + What, then, could tempt thee, in a critic age, +Such blooming hopes to forfeit on a stage? +Could it be worth thy wondrous waste of pains +To publish to the world thy lack of brains? 600 +Or might not Reason e'en to thee have shown, +Thy greatest praise had been to live unknown? +Yet let not vanity like thine despair: +Fortune makes Folly her peculiar care. + A vacant throne, high-placed in Smithfield, view. +To sacred Dulness and her first-born due, +Thither with haste in happy hour repair, +Thy birthright claim, nor fear a rival there. +Shuter himself shall own thy juster claim, +And venal Ledgers[40] puff their Murphy's name; 610 +Whilst Vaughan[41], or Dapper, call him which you will, +Shall blow the trumpet, and give out the bill. + There rule, secure from critics and from sense, +Nor once shall Genius rise to give offence; +Eternal peace shall bless the happy shore, +And little factions[42] break thy rest no more. + From Covent Garden crowds promiscuous go, +Whom the Muse knows not, nor desires to know; +Veterans they seem'd, but knew of arms no more +Than if, till that time, arms they never bore: 620 +Like Westminster militia[43] train'd to fight, +They scarcely knew the left hand from the right. +Ashamed among such troops to show the head, +Their chiefs were scatter'd, and their heroes fled. + Sparks[44] at his glass sat comfortably down +To separate frown from smile, and smile from frown. +Smith,[45] the genteel, the airy, and the smart, +Smith was just gone to school to say his part. +Ross[46] (a misfortune which we often meet) +Was fast asleep at dear Statira's[47] feet; 630 +Statira, with her hero to agree, +Stood on her feet as fast asleep as he. +Macklin[48], who largely deals in half-form'd sounds, +Who wantonly transgresses Nature's bounds, +Whose acting's hard, affected, and constrain'd, +Whose features, as each other they disdain'd, +At variance set, inflexible and coarse, +Ne'er know the workings of united force, +Ne'er kindly soften to each other's aid, +Nor show the mingled powers of light and shade; 640 +No longer for a thankless stage concern'd, +To worthier thoughts his mighty genius turn'd, +Harangued, gave lectures, made each simple elf +Almost as good a speaker as himself; +Whilst the whole town, mad with mistaken zeal, +An awkward rage for elocution feel; +Dull cits and grave divines his praise proclaim, +And join with Sheridan's[49] their Macklin's name. +Shuter, who never cared a single pin +Whether he left out nonsense, or put in, 650 +Who aim'd at wit, though, levell'd in the dark, +The random arrow seldom hit the mark, +At Islington[50], all by the placid stream +Where city swains in lap of Dulness dream, +Where quiet as her strains their strains do flow, +That all the patron by the bards may know, +Secret as night, with Rolt's[51] experienced aid, +The plan of future operations laid, +Projected schemes the summer months to cheer, +And spin out happy folly through the year. 660 + But think not, though these dastard chiefs are fled, +That Covent Garden troops shall want a head: +Harlequin comes their chief! See from afar +The hero seated in fantastic car! +Wedded to Novelty, his only arms +Are wooden swords, wands, talismans, and charms; +On one side Folly sits, by some call'd Fun, +And on the other his arch-patron, Lun;[52] +Behind, for liberty athirst in vain, +Sense, helpless captive, drags the galling chain: 670 +Six rude misshapen beasts the chariot draw, +Whom Reason loathes, and Nature never saw, +Monsters with tails of ice, and heads of fire; +'Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire.' +Each was bestrode by full as monstrous wight, +Giant, dwarf, genius, elf, hermaphrodite. +The Town, as usual, met him in full cry; +The Town, as usual, knew no reason why: +But Fashion so directs, and Moderns raise +On Fashion's mouldering base their transient praise. 680 + Next, to the field a band of females draw +Their force, for Britain owns no Salique law: +Just to their worth, we female rights admit, +Nor bar their claim to empire or to wit. + First giggling, plotting chambermaids arrive, +Hoydens and romps, led on by General Clive.[53] +In spite of outward blemishes, she shone, +For humour famed, and humour all her own: +Easy, as if at home, the stage she trod, +Nor sought the critic's praise, nor fear'd his rod: 690 +Original in spirit and in ease, +She pleased by hiding all attempts to please: +No comic actress ever yet could raise, +On Humour's base, more merit or more praise. + With all the native vigour of sixteen, +Among the merry troop conspicuous seen, +See lively Pope[54] advance, in jig, and trip +Corinna, Cherry, Honeycomb, and Snip: +Not without art, but yet to nature true, +She charms the town with humour just, yet new: 700 +Cheer'd by her promise, we the less deplore +The fatal time when Olive shall be no more. + Lo! Vincent[55] comes! With simple grace array'd, +She laughs at paltry arts, and scorns parade: +Nature through her is by reflection shown, +Whilst Gay once more knows Polly for his own. + Talk not to me of diffidence and fear-- +I see it all, but must forgive it here; +Defects like these, which modest terrors cause, +From Impudence itself extort applause. 710 +Candour and Reason still take Virtue's part; +We love e'en foibles in so good a heart. + Let Tommy Arne[56],--with usual pomp of style, +Whose chief, whose only merit's to compile; +Who, meanly pilfering here and there a bit, +Deals music out as Murphy deals out wit,-- +Publish proposals, laws for taste prescribe, +And chaunt the praise of an Italian tribe; +Let him reverse kind Nature's first decrees, +And teach e'en Brent[57] a method not to please; 720 +But never shall a truly British age +Bear a vile race of eunuchs on the stage; +The boasted work's call'd national in vain, +If one Italian voice pollutes the strain. +Where tyrants rule, and slaves with joy obey, +Let slavish minstrels pour the enervate lay; +To Britons far more noble pleasures spring, +In native notes whilst Beard and Vincent[58] sing. + Might figure give a title unto fame, +What rival should with Yates[59] dispute her claim? 730 +But justice may not partial trophies raise, +Nor sink the actress' in the woman's praise. +Still hand in hand her words and actions go, +And the heart feels more than the features show; +For, through the regions of that beauteous face +We no variety of passions trace; +Dead to the soft emotions of the heart, +No kindred softness can those eyes impart: +The brow, still fix'd in sorrow's sullen frame, +Void of distinction, marks all parts the same. 740 + What's a fine person, or a beauteous face, +Unless deportment gives them decent grace? +Bless'd with all other requisites to please, +Some want the striking elegance of ease; +The curious eye their awkward movement tires; +They seem like puppets led about by wires. +Others, like statues, in one posture still, +Give great ideas of the workman's skill; +Wond'ring, his art we praise the more we view, +And only grieve he gave not motion too. 750 +Weak of themselves are what we beauties call, +It is the manner which gives strength to all; +This teaches every beauty to unite, +And brings them forward in the noblest light; +Happy in this, behold, amidst the throng, +With transient gleam of grace, Hart[60] sweeps along. + If all the wonders of external grace, +A person finely turn'd, a mould of face, +Where--union rare--expression's lively force +With beauty's softest magic holds discourse, 760 +Attract the eye; if feelings, void of art, +Rouse the quick passions, and inflame the heart; +If music, sweetly breathing from the tongue, +Captives the ear, Bride[61] must not pass unsung. + When fear, which rank ill-nature terms conceit, +By time and custom conquer'd, shall retreat; +When judgment, tutor'd by experience sage, +Shall shoot abroad, and gather strength from age; +When Heaven, in mercy, shall the stage release +From the dull slumbers of a still-life piece; 770 +When some stale flower[62], disgraceful to the walk, +Which long hath hung, though wither'd, on the stalk, +Shall kindly drop, then Bride shall make her way, +And merit find a passage to the day; +Brought into action, she at once shall raise +Her own renown, and justify our praise. + Form'd for the tragic scene, to grace the stage +With rival excellence of love and rage; +Mistress of each soft art, with matchless skill +To turn and wind the passions as she will; 780 +To melt the heart with sympathetic woe, +Awake the sigh, and teach the tear to flow; +To put on frenzy's wild, distracted glare, +And freeze the soul with horror and despair; +With just desert enroll'd in endless fame, +Conscious of worth superior, Cibber[63] came. + When poor Alicia's madd'ning brains are rack'd, +And strongly imaged griefs her mind distract, +Struck with her grief, I catch the madness too, +My brain turns round, the headless trunk I view! 790 +The roof cracks, shakes, and falls--new horrors rise, +And Reason buried in the ruin lies! + Nobly disdainful of each slavish art, +She makes her first attack upon the heart; +Pleased with the summons, it receives her laws, +And all is silence, sympathy, applause. + But when, by fond ambition drawn aside, +Giddy with praise, and puff'd with female pride, +She quits the tragic scene, and, in pretence +To comic merit, breaks down nature's fence, 800 +I scarcely can believe my ears or eyes, +Or find out Cibber through the dark disguise. + Pritchard[64], by Nature for the stage design'd, +In person graceful, and in sense refined; +Her art as much as Nature's friend became, +Her voice as free from blemish as her fame, +Who knows so well in majesty to please, +Attemper'd with the graceful charms of ease? + When, Congreve's favoured pantomime[65] to grace, +She comes a captive queen, of Moorish race; 810 +When love, hate, jealousy, despair, and rage +With wildest tumults in her breast engage, +Still equal to herself is Zara seen; +Her passions are the passions of a queen. + When she to murder whets the timorous Thane,[66] +I feel ambition rush through every vein; +Persuasion hangs upon her daring tongue, +My heart grows flint, and every nerve's new strung. + In comedy--Nay, there, cries Critic, hold; +Pritchard's for comedy too fat and old: 820 +Who can, with patience, bear the gray coquette, +Or force a laugh with over-grown Julett?[67] +Her speech, look, action, humour, all are just, +But then, her age and figure give disgust. + Are foibles, then, and graces of the mind, +In real life, to size or age confined? +Do spirits flow, and is good-breeding placed +In any set circumference of waist? +As we grow old, doth affectation cease, +Or gives not age new vigour to caprice? 830 +If in originals these things appear, +Why should we bar them in the copy here? +The nice punctilio-mongers of this age, +The grand minute reformers of the stage, +Slaves to propriety of every kind, +Some standard measure for each part should find, +Which, when the best of actors shall exceed, +Let it devolve to one of smaller breed. +All actors, too, upon the back should bear +Certificate of birth; time, when; place, where; 840 +For how can critics rightly fix their worth, +Unless they know the minute of their birth? +An audience, too, deceived, may find, too late, +That they have clapp'd an actor out of date. + Figure, I own, at first may give offence, +And harshly strike the eye's too curious sense; +But when perfections of the mind break forth, +Humour's chaste sallies, judgment's solid worth; +When the pure genuine flame by Nature taught, +Springs into sense and every action's thought; 850 +Before such merit all objections fly-- +Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick's six feet high. + Oft have I, Pritchard, seen thy wondrous skill, +Confess'd thee great, but find thee greater still; +That worth, which shone in scatter'd rays before, +Collected now, breaks forth with double power. +The 'Jealous Wife!'[68] on that thy trophies raise, +Inferior only to the author's praise. + From Dublin, famed in legends of romance +For mighty magic of enchanted lance, 860 +With which her heroes arm'd, victorious prove, +And, like a flood, rush o'er the land of Love, +Mossop and Barry came--names ne'er design'd +By Fate in the same sentence to be join'd. +Raised by the breath of popular acclaim, +They mounted to the pinnacle of fame; +There the weak brain, made giddy with the height, +Spurr'd on the rival chiefs to mortal fight. +Thus sportive boys, around some basin's brim, +Behold the pipe-drawn bladders circling swim; 870 +But if, from lungs more potent, there arise +Two bubbles of a more than common size, +Eager for honour, they for fight prepare, +Bubble meets bubble, and both sink to air. + Mossop[69] attach'd to military plan, +Still kept his eye fix'd on his right-hand[70] man; +Whilst the mouth measures words with seeming skill, +The right hand labours, and the left lies still; +For he, resolved on Scripture grounds to go, +What the right doth, the left-hand shall not know, 880 +With studied impropriety of speech, +He soars beyond the hackney critic's reach; +To epithets allots emphatic state, +Whilst principals, ungraced, like lackeys wait; +In ways first trodden by himself excels, +And stands alone in indeclinables; +Conjunction, preposition, adverb join +To stamp new vigour on the nervous line; +In monosyllables his thunders roll, +He, she, it, and we, ye, they, fright the soul. 890 + In person taller than the common size, +Behold where Barry[71] draws admiring eyes! +When labouring passions, in his bosom pent, +Convulsive rage, and struggling heave for vent; +Spectators, with imagined terrors warm, +Anxious expect the bursting of the storm: +But, all unfit in such a pile to dwell, +His voice comes forth, like Echo from her cell, +To swell the tempest needful aid denies, +And all adown the stage in feeble murmurs dies. 900 + What man, like Barry, with such pains, can err +In elocution, action, character? +What man could give, if Barry was not here, +Such well applauded tenderness to Lear? +Who else can speak so very, very fine, +That sense may kindly end with every line? + Some dozen lines before the ghost is there, +Behold him for the solemn scene prepare: +See how he frames his eyes, poises each limb, +Puts the whole body into proper trim:-- 910 +From whence we learn, with no great stretch of art, +Five lines hence comes a ghost, and, ha! a start. + When he appears most perfect, still we find +Something which jars upon and hurts the mind: +Whatever lights upon a part are thrown, +We see too plainly they are not his own: +No flame from Nature ever yet he caught, +Nor knew a feeling which he was not taught: +He raised his trophies on the base of art, +And conn'd his passions, as he conn'd his part. 920 + Quin,[72] from afar, lured by the scent of fame, +A stage leviathan, put in his claim, +Pupil of Betterton[73] and Booth. Alone, +Sullen he walk'd, and deem'd the chair his own: +For how should moderns, mushrooms of the day, +Who ne'er those masters knew, know how to play? +Gray-bearded veterans, who, with partial tongue, +Extol the times when they themselves were young, +Who, having lost all relish for the stage, +See not their own defects, but lash the age, 930 +Received, with joyful murmurs of applause, +Their darling chief, and lined[74] his favourite cause. + Far be it from the candid Muse to tread +Insulting o'er the ashes of the dead: +But, just to living merit, she maintains, +And dares the test, whilst Garrick's genius reigns, +Ancients in vain endeavour to excel, +Happily praised, if they could act as well. +But, though prescription's force we disallow, +Nor to antiquity submissive bow; 940 +Though we deny imaginary grace, +Founded on accidents of time and place, +Yet real worth of every growth shall bear +Due praise; nor must we, Quin, forget thee there. +His words bore sterling weight; nervous and strong, +In manly tides of sense they roll'd along: +Happy in art, he chiefly had pretence +To keep up numbers, yet not forfeit sense; +No actor ever greater heights could reach +In all the labour'd artifice of speech. 950 + Speech! is that all? And shall an actor found +An universal fame on partial ground? +Parrots themselves speak properly by rote, +And, in six months, my dog shall howl by note. +I laugh at those who, when the stage they tread, +Neglect the heart, to compliment the head; +With strict propriety their cares confined +To weigh out words, while passion halts behind: +To syllable-dissectors they appeal, +Allow them accent, cadence,--fools may feel; 960 +But, spite of all the criticising elves, +Those who would make us feel, must feel themselves. + His eyes, in gloomy socket taught to roll, +Proclaim'd the sullen 'habit of his soul:' +Heavy and phlegmatic he trod the stage, +Too proud for tenderness, too dull for rage. +When Hector's lovely widow shines in tears, +Or Rowe's[75] gay rake dependent virtue jeers, +With the same cast of features he is seen +To chide the libertine, and court the queen. 970 +From the tame scene, which without passion flows, +With just desert his reputation rose; +Nor less he pleased, when, on some surly plan, +He was, at once, the actor and the man. + In Brute[76] he shone unequall'd: all agree +Garrick's not half so great a Brute as he. +When Cato's labour'd scenes are brought to view, +With equal praise the actor labour'd too; +For still you'll find, trace passions to their root, +Small difference 'twixt the Stoic and the Brute. 980 +In fancied scenes, as in life's real plan, +He could not, for a moment, sink the man. +In whate'er cast his character was laid, +Self still, like oil, upon the surface play'd. +Nature, in spite of all his skill, crept in: +Horatio, Dorax,[77] Falstaff,--still 'twas Quin. + Next follows Sheridan.[78] A doubtful name, +As yet unsettled in the rank of fame: +This, fondly lavish in his praises grown, +Gives him all merit; that allows him none; 990 +Between them both, we'll steer the middle course, +Nor, loving praise, rob Judgment of her force. + Just his conceptions, natural and great, +His feelings strong, his words enforced with weight. +Was speech-famed Quin himself to hear him speak, +Envy would drive the colour from his cheek; +But step-dame Nature, niggard of her grace, +Denied the social powers of voice and face. +Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye, +Passions, like chaos, in confusion lie; 1000 +In vain the wonders of his skill are tried +To form distinctions Nature hath denied. +His voice no touch of harmony admits, +Irregularly deep, and shrill by fits. +The two extremes appear like man and wife, +Coupled together for the sake of strife. + His action's always strong, but sometimes such, +That candour must declare he acts too much. +Why must impatience fall three paces back? +Why paces three return to the attack? 1010 +Why is the right leg, too, forbid to stir, +Unless in motion semicircular? +Why must the hero with the Nailor[79] vie, +And hurl the close-clench'd fist at nose or eye? +In Royal John, with Philip angry grown, +I thought he would have knock'd poor Davies down. +Inhuman tyrant! was it not a shame +To fright a king so harmless and so tame? +But, spite of all defects, his glories rise, +And art, by judgment form'd, with nature vies. 1020 +Behold him sound the depth of Hubert's[80] soul, +Whilst in his own contending passions roll; +View the whole scene, with critic judgment scan, +And then deny him merit, if you can. +Where he falls short, 'tis Nature's fault alone; +Where he succeeds, the merit's all his own. + Last Garrick[81] came. Behind him throng a train +Of snarling critics, ignorant as vain. + One finds out--He's of stature somewhat low-- +Your hero always should be tall, you know; 1030 +True natural greatness all consists in height. +Produce your voucher, Critic.--Serjeant Kite.[82] + Another can't forgive the paltry arts +By which he makes his way to shallow hearts; +Mere pieces of finesse, traps for applause-- +'Avaunt! unnatural start, affected pause!' + For me, by Nature form'd to judge with phlegm, +I can't acquit by wholesale, nor condemn. +The best things carried to excess are wrong; +The start may be too frequent, pause too long: 1040 +But, only used in proper time and place, +Severest judgment must allow them grace. + If bunglers, form'd on Imitation's plan, +Just in the way that monkeys mimic man, +Their copied scene with mangled arts disgrace, +And pause and start with the same vacant face, +We join the critic laugh; those tricks we scorn +Which spoil the scenes they mean them to adorn. +But when, from Nature's pure and genuine source, +These strokes of acting flow with generous force, 1050 +When in the features all the soul's portray'd, +And passions, such as Garrick's, are display'd, +To me they seem from quickest feelings caught-- +Each start is nature, and each pause is thought. + When reason yields to passion's wild alarms, +And the whole state of man is up in arms, +What but a critic could condemn the player +For pausing here, when cool sense pauses there? +Whilst, working from the heart, the fire I trace, +And mark it strongly flaming to the face; 1060 +Whilst in each sound I hear the very man, +I can't catch words, and pity those who can. + Let wits, like spiders, from the tortured brain +Fine-draw the critic-web with curious pain; +The gods,--a kindness I with thanks must pay,-- +Have form'd me of a coarser kind of clay; +Not stung with envy, nor with spleen diseased, +A poor dull creature, still with Nature pleased: +Hence to thy praises, Garrick, I agree, +And, pleased with Nature, must be pleased with thee. 1070 + Now might I tell how silence reign'd throughout, +And deep attention hush'd the rabble rout; +How every claimant, tortured with desire, +Was pale as ashes, or as red as fire; +But loose to fame, the Muse more simply acts, +Rejects all flourish, and relates mere facts. + The judges, as the several parties came, +With temper heard, with judgment weigh'd each claim; +And, in their sentence happily agreed, +In name of both, great Shakspeare thus decreed:-- 1080 + If manly sense, if Nature link'd with Art; +If thorough knowledge of the human heart; +If powers of acting vast and unconfined; +If fewest faults with greatest beauties join'd; +If strong expression, and strange powers which lie +Within the magic circle of the eye; +If feelings which few hearts like his can know, +And which no face so well as his can show, +Deserve the preference--Garrick! take the chair; +Nor quit it--till thou place an equal there. 1090 + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [1] 'The Rosciad:' for occasion, &c., see Life. + + [2] 'Roscius:' Quintus Roscius, a native of Gaul, and the most + celebrated comedian of antiquity. [3] 'Clive:' Robert Lord Clive. See + Macaulay's paper on him. + + [4] 'Shuter:' Edward Shuter, a comic actor, who, after various + theatrical vicissitudes, died a zealous methodist and disciple of + George Whitefield, in 1776. + + [5] 'Yates:' Richard Yates, another low actor of the period. + + [6] 'Foote:' Samuel Foote, the once well-known farcical writer, (now + chiefly remembered from Boswell's Life of Johnson), opened the Old + House in the Haymarket, and, in order to overrule the opposition of + the magistrates, announced his entertainments as 'Mr Foote's giving + tea to his friends.' + + [7] 'Wilkinson:' Wilkinson, the shadow of Foote, was the proprietor of + Sadler's Wells Theatre. + + [8] 'Palmer:' John Palmer, a favourite actor in genteel comedy, who + married Miss Pritchard, daughter of the celebrated actress of that + name. + + [9] 'Barry:' Spranger Barry, an actor of first-rate eminence and tall + of size. Barry was a competitor of Garrick. Every one remembers the + lines in a poem comparing the two-- + + 'To Barry we give loud applause; + To Garrick only tears.' + + [10] 'Coan:' John Coan, a dwarf, showed himself, like another Tom + Thumb, for sixpence a-head. + + [11] 'Ackman:' Ackman ranked as one of the lowest comic actors of his + time. + + [12] 'Sterne:' the celebrated Laurence Sterne. + + [13] 'Franklin:' Dr Thomas Franklin, the translator of Sophocles, + Phalaris, and Lucian, and the author of a volume of sermons; all + forgotten. + + [14] 'Colman:' Colman, the elder, translator of Terence, and author of + many clever comedies. + + [15] 'Murphy:' Arthur Murphy, Esq., a native of Ireland. See Boswell's + Life of Johnson. Churchill hated Murphy on account of his politics. He + was in the pay of the Court. + + [16] 'Northern race:' Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, and + Earl Rosslyn, a patron of Murphy, and a bitter enemy of Wilkes. + + [17] 'Proteus Hill:' Sir John Hill, a celebrated character of that day, + of incredible industry and versatility, a botanist, apothecary, + translator, actor, dramatic author, natural historian, multitudinous + compiler, libeller, and, _intus et in cute_, a quack and coxcomb. See + Boswell's account of the interview between the King and Dr Johnson, + for a somewhat modified estimate of Hill. + + [18] 'Woodward:' Woodward the comedian had a paper war with Hill. + + [19] 'Fools:' the person here meant was a Mr Fitzpatrick, a bitter + enemy of Garrick's, and who originated riots in the theatre on the + subject of half-price. + + [20] 'A youth:' Robert Lloyd, the friend and imitator of Churchill--an + ingenious but improvident person, who died of grief at his friend's + death, in 1764. + + [21] 'Foster:' Sir Michael Foster, one of the puisne judges of the + Court of King's Bench. + + [22] 'Ode:' alluding to Mason's Ode to Memory. + + [23] 'Havard:' William Havard, an amiable man, but mediocre actor, of + the period. + + [24] 'Davies:' Thomas Davies, a bookseller, actor, and author. See + Boswell. + + [25] 'Holland:' Holland, a pupil and imitator of Mr Garrick. + + [26] 'King:' Thomas King, a voluble and pert but clever actor. + + [27] 'Yates:' Yates had a habit of repeating his words twice or thrice + over, such as 'Hark you, hark you.' + + [28] 'Tom Errand:' Tom Errand and Clincher, two well-known dramatic + characters--a Clown and a coxcomb. + + [29] 'Woodward:' Henry Woodward, comic actor of much power of face. + + [30] 'Kitely:' Kitely, in Johnson's 'Every Man in his Humour,' was a + favourite character of Garrick's. + + [31] 'Obrien:' a small actor; originally a fencing-master. + + [32] 'Jackson:' afterwards manager of the Royal Theatre, Edinburgh. + + [33] 'Love:' James Love, an actor and dramatic writer, who could play + nothing well but Falstaff. + + [34] 'Dominic:' Dryden's 'Spanish Friar.' [35] 'Boniface:' The jovial + landlord in Farquhar's 'Beaux Stratagem.' + + [36] 'Austin,' &c.: all small and forgotten actors. + + [37] 'Moody:' Moody excelled in Irish characters. + + [38] 'Bayes:' alluding to the summer theatre in the Haymarket, where + Murphy's plays were got up and acted under the joint management of + himself and Mr Foote. + + [39] 'Elliot:' a female actress of great merit. + + [40] 'Ledgers:' the Public Ledger, a newspaper. + + [41] 'Vaughan:' Thomas Vaughan, a friend of Murphy. + + [42] 'Little factions:' Murphy had called Churchill and his friends + 'The Little Faction.' + + [43] 'Militia:' the Westminster militia and the city of London trained + bands and lumber troopers, afforded much amusement. + + [44] 'Sparks:' Luke Sparks, an actor of the time, rather hard in his + manner. + + [45] 'Smith:' Called Gentleman Smith,' an actor in genteel comedy, + corpulent in person. + + [46] 'Ross:' a Scotchman, dissipated in his habits. + + [47] 'Statira:' Ross's Statira was Mrs Palmer, the daughter of Mrs + Pritchard. + + [48] 'Macklin:' Charles Macklin, _alias_ M'Laughlin, good in such + characters as Shylock, &c.; no tragedian; a lecturer on elocution; + coarse in features. + + [49] 'Sheridan:' father of Richard Brinsley. See Boswell and Moore. + + [50] 'Islington:' the new river. + + [51] 'Rolt:' a drudge to the booksellers, who plagiarised Akenside's + 'Pleasures of Imagination,' and was a coadjutor with Christopher + Smart in the 'Universal Visitor.' See Boswell. + + [52] 'Lun:' Mr John Rich, the manager of Covent Garden and Lincoln's + Inn Fields Theatre, called Lun for his performance of Harlequin; famous + for pantomimes. + + [53] 'Clive:' Catherine Clive, a celebrated comic actress, of very + diversified powers; 'a better romp' than Jonson 'ever saw in nature.' + + [54] 'Pope:' a pleasing protégé of Mrs Clive. + + [55] 'Vincent:' Mrs Vincent, a tolerable actress and a fine singer. + + [56] 'Arne:' a fine musician, but no writer. + + [57] 'Brent:' a female scholar of Arne's, very popular as Polly in the + 'Beggars Opera.' + + [58] 'Beard and Vincent:' famous singers. + + [59] 'Yates:' Anna Maria Yates, the wife of Richard Yates, mentioned in + a preceding note. + + [60] 'Hart:' Mrs Hart, a demirep, married to one Reddish, who, after + her death, wedded Mrs Canning, mother of the great statesman. + + [61] 'Bride:' another beautiful, but disreputable actress. + + [62] 'Stale flower,' &c.: an unmanly allusion to Mrs Palmer, the + daughter of Mrs Pritchard, who was greatly inferior to her mother. + + [63] 'Cibber:' sister to Arne, and wife to the once notorious + Theophilus Cibber, the son of the hero of the 'Dunciad.' She was no + better in character than many actresses of that day; but sang so + plaintively, that a bishop who heard her once cried out, 'Woman, thy + sins be forgiven thee!' + + [64] 'Pritchard:' according to Johnson, 'in private a vulgar idiot, + but who, on the stage, seemed to become inspired with gentility and + understanding.' + + [65] 'Pantomime:' the 'Mourning Bride.' + + [66] 'Thane:' Macbeth. + + [67] 'Juletta:' a witty maid-servant in the play of 'The Pilgrim.' + + [68] The 'Jealous Wife:' the 'Jealous Wife,' by Colman, was taken from + the story of Lady Bellaston, in 'Tom Jones.' + + [69] 'Mossop:' Henry Mossop, a powerful, fiery, but irregular actor, + very unfortunate in life. + + [70] 'Right-hand:' Mossop practised the 'tea-pot attitude.' + + [71] 'Barry:' Spranger Barry, mentioned above as Garrick's great rival. + He acted in Covent Garden. + + [72] 'Quin:' the friend of Thomson, (see 'Castle of Indolence'), + instructor in reading of George III., famous for indolence, wit, good + nature, and corpulence. + + [73] 'Betterton:' the great actor of the seventeenth century, whose + funeral and character are described in the 'Tatler.' Booth was his + successor and copy. + + [74] 'Lined:' supported. + + [75] 'Rowe.' Andromache, in the tragedy of the 'Distressed Mother,' by + Ambrose Philips, and Lothario, in the 'Fair Penitent,' by Rowe. + + [76] 'Brute:' Sir John Brute, in Vanbrugh's 'Provoked Wife.' + + [77] 'Dorax:' a soldier in Dryden's 'Don Sebastian.' + + [78] 'Sheridan:' see a previous note. + + [79] 'Nailor:' pugilist. + + [80] 'Hubert:' in King John. + + [81] 'Garrick:' see Boswell and Murphy's life of that great actor. + + [82] 'Serjeant Kite:' the recruiting serjeant in Farquhar's 'Recruiting + Officer.' + + + + +THE APOLOGY. + +ADDRESSED TO THE CRITICAL REVIEWERS.[83] + + Tristitiam et Metus.--HORACE. + +Laughs not the heart when giants, big with pride, +Assume the pompous port, the martial stride; +O'er arm Herculean heave the enormous shield, +Vast as a weaver's beam the javelin wield; +With the loud voice of thundering Jove defy, +And dare to single combat--what?--A fly! + And laugh we less when giant names, which shine +Establish'd, as it were, by right divine; +Critics, whom every captive art adores, +To whom glad Science pours forth all her stores; 10 +Who high in letter'd reputation sit, +And hold, Astraea-like, the scales of wit, +With partial rage rush forth--oh! shame to tell!-- +To crush a bard just bursting from the shell? + Great are his perils in this stormy time +Who rashly ventures on a sea of rhyme: +Around vast surges roll, winds envious blow, +And jealous rocks and quicksands lurk below: +Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends; +He hurts me most who lavishly commends. 20 + Look through the world--in every other trade +The same employment's cause of kindness made, +At least appearance of good will creates, +And every fool puffs off the fool he hates: +Cobblers with cobblers smoke away the night, +And in the common cause e'en players unite; +Authors alone, with more than savage rage, +Unnatural war with brother authors wage. +The pride of Nature would as soon admit +Competitors in empire as in wit; 30 +Onward they rush, at Fame's imperious call, +And, less than greatest, would not be at all. + Smit with the love of honour,--or the pence,-- +O'errun with wit, and destitute of sense, +Should any novice in the rhyming trade +With lawless pen the realms of verse invade, +Forth from the court, where sceptred sages sit, +Abused with praise, and flatter'd into wit, +Where in lethargic majesty they reign, +And what they won by dulness, still maintain, 40 +Legions of factious authors throng at once, +Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce. +To 'Hamilton's[84] the ready lies repair-- +Ne'er was lie made which was not welcome there-- +Thence, on maturer judgment's anvil wrought, +The polish'd falsehood's into public brought. +Quick-circulating slanders mirth afford; +And reputation bleeds in every word. + A critic was of old a glorious name, +Whose sanction handed merit up to fame; 50 +Beauties as well as faults he brought to view; +His judgment great, and great his candour too; +No servile rules drew sickly taste aside; +Secure he walk'd, for Nature was his guide. +But now--oh! strange reverse!--our critics bawl +In praise of candour with a heart of gall; +Conscious of guilt, and fearful of the light, +They lurk enshrouded in the vale of night; +Safe from detection, seize the unwary prey, +And stab, like bravoes, all who come that way. 60 + When first my Muse, perhaps more bold than wise, +Bade the rude trifle into light arise, +Little she thought such tempests would ensue; +Less, that those tempests would be raised by you. +The thunder's fury rends the towering oak, +Rosciads, like shrubs, might 'scape the fatal stroke. +Vain thought! a critic's fury knows no bound; +Drawcansir-like, he deals destruction round; +Nor can we hope he will a stranger spare, +Who gives no quarter to his friend Voltaire.[85] 70 + Unhappy Genius! placed by partial Fate +With a free spirit in a slavish state; +Where the reluctant Muse, oppress'd by kings, +Or droops in silence, or in fetters sings! +In vain thy dauntless fortitude hath borne +The bigot's furious zeal, and tyrant's scorn. +Why didst thou safe from home-bred dangers steer, +Reserved to perish more ignobly here? +Thus, when, the Julian tyrant's pride to swell, +Rome with her Pompey at Pharsalia fell, 80 +The vanquish'd chief escaped from Caesar's hand, +To die by ruffians in a foreign land. + How could these self-elected monarchs raise +So large an empire on so small a base? +In what retreat, inglorious and unknown, +Did Genius sleep when Dulness seized the throne? +Whence, absolute now grown, and free from awe, +She to the subject world dispenses law. +Without her licence not a letter stirs, +And all the captive criss-cross-row is hers. 90 +The Stagyrite, who rules from Nature drew, +Opinions gave, but gave his reasons too. +Our great Dictators take a shorter way-- +Who shall dispute what the Reviewers say? +Their word's sufficient; and to ask a reason, +In such a state as theirs, is downright treason. +True judgment now with them alone can dwell; +Like Church of Rome, they're grown infallible. +Dull superstitious readers they deceive, +Who pin their easy faith on critic's sleeve, 100 +And knowing nothing, everything believe! +But why repine we that these puny elves +Shoot into giants?--we may thank ourselves: +Fools that we are, like Israel's fools of yore, +The calf ourselves have fashion'd we adore. +But let true Reason once resume her reign, +This god shall dwindle to a calf again. + Founded on arts which shun the face of day, +By the same arts they still maintain their sway. +Wrapp'd in mysterious secrecy they rise, 110 +And, as they are unknown, are safe and wise. +At whomsoever aim'd, howe'er severe, +The envenom'd slander flies, no names appear: +Prudence forbids that step;--then all might know, +And on more equal terms engage the foe. +But now, what Quixote of the age would care +To wage a war with dirt, and fight with air? +By interest join'd, the expert confederates stand, +And play the game into each other's hand: +The vile abuse, in turn by all denied, 120 +Is bandied up and down, from side to side: +It flies--hey!--presto!--like a juggler's ball, +Till it belongs to nobody at all. + All men and things they know, themselves unknown, +And publish every name--except their own. +Nor think this strange,--secure from vulgar eyes, +The nameless author passes in disguise; +But veteran critics are not so deceived, +If veteran critics are to be believed. +Once seen, they know an author evermore, 130 +Nay, swear to hands they never saw before. +Thus in 'The Rosciad,' beyond chance or doubt, +They by the writing found the writers out: +That's Lloyd's--his manner there you plainly trace, +And all the Actor stares you in the face. +By Colman that was written--on my life, +The strongest symptoms of the 'Jealous Wife.' +That little disingenuous piece of spite, +Churchill--a wretch unknown!--perhaps might write. + How doth it make judicious readers smile, 140 +When authors are detected by their style; +Though every one who knows this author, knows +He shifts his style much oftener than his clothes! + Whence could arise this mighty critic spleen, +The Muse a trifler, and her theme so mean? +What had I done, that angry Heaven should send +The bitterest foe where most I wish'd a friend? +Oft hath my tongue been wanton at thy name,[86] +And hail'd the honours of thy matchless fame. +For me let hoary Fielding bite the ground, 150 +So nobler Pickle stands superbly bound; +From Livy's temples tear the historic crown, +Which with more justice blooms upon thine own. +Compared with thee, be all life-writers dumb, +But he who wrote the Life of Tommy Thumb. +Who ever read 'The Regicide,' but swore +The author wrote as man ne'er wrote before? +Others for plots and under-plots may call, +Here's the right method--have no plot at all. +Who can so often in his cause engage 160 +The tiny pathos of the Grecian stage, +Whilst horrors rise, and tears spontaneous flow +At tragic Ha! and no less tragic Oh! +To praise his nervous weakness all agree; +And then for sweetness, who so sweet as he! +Too big for utterance when sorrows swell, +The too big sorrows flowing tears must tell; +But when those flowing tears shall cease to flow, +Why--then the voice must speak again, you know. + Rude and unskilful in the poet's trade, 170 +I kept no Naïads by me ready made; +Ne'er did I colours high in air advance, +Torn from the bleeding fopperies of France;[87] +No flimsy linsey-woolsey scenes I wrote, +With patches here and there, like Joseph's coat. +Me humbler themes befit: secure, for me, +Let play-wrights smuggle nonsense duty free; +Secure, for me, ye lambs, ye lambkins! bound, +And frisk and frolic o'er the fairy ground. +Secure, for me, thou pretty little fawn! 180 +Lick Sylvia's hand, and crop the flowery lawn; +Uncensured let the gentle breezes rove +Through the green umbrage of the enchanted grove: +Secure, for me, let foppish Nature smile, +And play the coxcomb in the 'Desert Isle.' + The stage I chose--a subject fair and free-- +'Tis yours--'tis mine--'tis public property. +All common exhibitions open lie, +For praise or censure, to the common eye. +Hence are a thousand hackney writers fed; 190 +Hence Monthly Critics earn their daily bread. +This is a general tax which all must pay, +From those who scribble, down to those who play. +Actors, a venal crew, receive support +From public bounty for the public sport. +To clap or hiss all have an equal claim, +The cobbler's and his lordship's right's the same. +All join for their subsistence; all expect +Free leave to praise their worth, their faults correct. +When active Pickle Smithfield stage ascends, 200 +The three days' wonder of his laughing friends, +Each, or as judgment or as fancy guides, +The lively witling praises or derides. +And where's the mighty difference, tell me where, +Betwixt a Merry Andrew and a player? + The strolling tribe--a despicable race!-- +Like wandering Arabs, shift from place to place. +Vagrants by law, to justice open laid, +They tremble, of the beadle's lash afraid, +And, fawning, cringe for wretched means of life 210 +To Madam Mayoress, or his Worship's wife. + The mighty monarch, in theatric sack, +Carries his whole regalia at his back; +His royal consort heads the female band, +And leads the heir apparent in her hand; +The pannier'd ass creeps on with conscious pride, +Bearing a future prince on either side. +No choice musicians in this troop are found, +To varnish nonsense with the charms of sound; +No swords, no daggers, not one poison'd bowl; 220 +No lightning flashes here, no thunders roll; +No guards to swell the monarch's train are shown; +The monarch here must be a host alone: +No solemn pomp, no slow processions here; +No Ammon's entry, and no Juliet's bier. + By need compell'd to prostitute his art, +The varied actor flies from part to part; +And--strange disgrace to all theatric pride!-- +His character is shifted with his side. +Question and answer he by turns must be, 230 +Like that small wit in modern tragedy,[88] +Who, to patch up his fame--or fill his purse-- +Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worse; +Like gypsies, lest the stolen brat be known, +Defacing first, then claiming for his own. +In shabby state they strut, and tatter'd robe, +The scene a blanket, and a barn the globe: +No high conceits their moderate wishes raise, +Content with humble profit, humble praise. +Let dowdies simper, and let bumpkins stare, 240 +The strolling pageant hero treads in air: +Pleased, for his hour he to mankind gives law, +And snores the next out on a truss of straw. + But if kind Fortune, who sometimes, we know, +Can take a hero from a puppet-show, +In mood propitious should her favourite call, +On royal stage in royal pomp to bawl, +Forgetful of himself, he rears the head, +And scorns the dunghill where he first was bred; +Conversing now with well dress'd kings and queens, 250 +With gods and goddesses behind the scenes, +He sweats beneath the terror-nodding plume, +Taught by mock honours real pride to assume. +On this great stage, the world, no monarch e'er +Was half so haughty as a monarch player. + Doth it more move our anger or our mirth +To see these things, the lowest sons of earth, +Presume, with self-sufficient knowledge graced, +To rule in letters, and preside in taste? +The town's decisions they no more admit, 260 +Themselves alone the arbiters of wit; +And scorn the jurisdiction of that court +To which they owe their being and support. +Actors, like monks of old, now sacred grown, +Must be attack'd by no fools but their own. + Let the vain tyrant[89] sit amidst his guards, +His puny green-room wits and venal bards, +Who meanly tremble at the puppet's frown, +And for a playhouse-freedom lose their own; +In spite of new-made laws, and new-made kings, 270 +The free-born Muse with liberal spirit sings. +Bow down, ye slaves! before these idols fall; +Let Genius stoop to them who've none at all: +Ne'er will I flatter, cringe, or bend the knee +To those who, slaves to all, are slaves to me. + Actors, as actors, are a lawful game, +The poet's right, and who shall bar his claim? +And if, o'erweening of their little skill, +When they have left the stage, they're actors still; +If to the subject world they still give laws, 280 +With paper crowns, and sceptres made of straws; +If they in cellar or in garret roar, +And, kings one night, are kings for evermore; +Shall not bold Truth, e'en there, pursue her theme, +And wake the coxcomb from his golden dream? +Or if, well worthy of a better fate, +They rise superior to their present state; +If, with each social virtue graced, they blend +The gay companion and the faithful friend; +If they, like Pritchard, join in private life 290 +The tender parent and the virtuous wife; +Shall not our verse their praise with pleasure speak, +Though Mimics bark, and Envy split her cheek? +No honest worth's beneath the Muse's praise; +No greatness can above her censure raise; +Station and wealth to her are trifling things; +She stoops to actors, and she soars to kings. + Is there a man,[90] in vice and folly bred, +To sense of honour as to virtue dead, +Whom ties, nor human, nor divine can bind, 300 +Alien from God, and foe to all mankind; +Who spares no character; whose every word, +Bitter as gall, and sharper than the sword, +Cuts to the quick; whose thoughts with rancour swell; +Whose tongue, on earth, performs the work of hell? +If there be such a monster, the Reviews +Shall find him holding forth against abuse: +Attack profession!--'tis a deadly breach! +The Christian laws another lesson teach:-- +Unto the end shall Charity endure, 310 +And Candour hide those faults it cannot cure. + Thus Candour's maxims flow from Rancour's throat, +As devils, to serve their purpose, Scripture quote. + The Muse's office was by Heaven design'd +To please, improve, instruct, reform mankind; +To make dejected Virtue nobly rise +Above the towering pitch of splendid Vice; +To make pale Vice, abash'd, her head hang down, +And, trembling, crouch at Virtue's awful frown. +Now arm'd with wrath, she bids eternal shame, 320 +With strictest justice, brand the villain's name; +Now in the milder garb of ridicule +She sports, and pleases while she wounds the fool. +Her shape is often varied; but her aim, +To prop the cause of Virtue, still the same. +In praise of Mercy let the guilty bawl; +When Vice and Folly for correction call, +Silence the mark of weakness justly bears, +And is partaker of the crimes it spares. +But if the Muse, too cruel in her mirth, 330 +With harsh reflections wounds the man of worth; +If wantonly she deviates from her plan, +And quits the actor to expose the man;[91] +Ashamed, she marks that passage with a blot, +And hates the line where candour was forgot. + But what is candour, what is humour's vein, +Though judgment join to consecrate the strain, +If curious numbers will not aid afford, +Nor choicest music play in every word? +Verses must run, to charm a modern ear, 340 +From all harsh, rugged interruptions clear. +Soft let them breathe, as Zephyr's balmy breeze, +Smooth let their current flow, as summer seas; +Perfect then only deem'd when they dispense +A happy tuneful vacancy of sense. +Italian fathers thus, with barbarous rage, +Fit helpless infants for the squeaking stage; +Deaf to the calls of pity, Nature wound, +And mangle vigour for the sake of sound. +Henceforth farewell, then, feverish thirst of fame; 350 +Farewell the longings for a poet's name; +Perish my Muse--a wish 'bove all severe +To him who ever held the Muses dear-- +If e'er her labours weaken to refine +The generous roughness of a nervous line. + Others affect the stiff and swelling phrase; +Their Muse must walk in stilts, and strut in stays; +The sense they murder, and the words transpose, +Lest poetry approach too near to prose. +See tortured Reason how they pare and trim, 360 +And, like Procrustes, stretch, or lop the limb. + Waller! whose praise succeeding bards rehearse, +Parent of harmony in English verse, +Whose tuneful Muse in sweetest accents flows, +In couplets first taught straggling sense to close. + In polish'd numbers and majestic sound, +Where shall thy rival, Pope! be ever found? +But whilst each line with equal beauty flows. +E'en excellence, unvaried, tedious grows. +Nature, through all her works, in great degree, 370 +Borrows a blessing from variety. +Music itself her needful aid requires +To rouse the soul, and wake our dying fires. +Still in one key, the nightingale would tease; +Still in one key, not Brent would always please. + Here let me bend, great Dryden! at thy shrine, +Thou dearest name to all the Tuneful Nine! +What if some dull lines in cold order creep, +And with his theme the poet seems to sleep? +Still, when his subject rises proud to view, 380 +With equal strength the poet rises too: +With strong invention, noblest vigour fraught, +Thought still springs up and rises out of thought; +Numbers ennobling numbers in their course, +In varied sweetness flow, in varied force; +The powers of genius and of judgment join, +And the whole Art of Poetry is thine. + But what are numbers, what are bards to me, +Forbid to tread the paths of poesy? +A sacred Muse should consecrate her pen-- 390 +Priests must not hear nor see like other men-- +Far higher themes should her ambition claim: +Behold where Sternhold points the way to fame! + Whilst with mistaken zeal dull bigots burn, +Let Reason for a moment take her turn. +When coffee-sages hold discourse with kings, +And blindly walk in paper leading-strings, +What if a man delight to pass his time +In spinning reason into harmless rhyme, +Or sometimes boldly venture to the play? 400 +Say, where's the crime, great man of prudence, say? +No two on earth in all things can agree; +All have some darling singularity: +Women and men, as well as girls and boys, +In gew-gaws take delight, and sigh for toys. +Your sceptres and your crowns, and such like things, +Are but a better kind of toys for kings. +In things indifferent Reason bids us choose, +Whether the whim's a monkey or a Muse. + What the grave triflers on this busy scene, 410 +When they make use of this word Reason, mean, +I know not; but according to my plan, +'Tis Lord Chief-Justice in the court of man; +Equally form'd to rule in age or youth, +The friend of virtue and the guide to truth; +To her I bow, whose sacred power I feel; +To her decision make my last appeal; +Condemn'd by her, applauding worlds in vain +Should tempt me to take up the pen again; +By her absolved, my course I'll still pursue: 420 +If Reason's for me, God is for me too. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [83] For occasion, &c. of this, see Life. + + [84] 'Hamilton:' Archibald Hamilton, printer of the 'Critical Review.' + + [85] 'Voltaire:' Smollett had changed his opinion of Voltaire, and from + praising, had begun to abuse him. + + [86] 'Thy name:' Dr Tobias Smollett, the well-known author of 'Roderick + Random, 'The Regicide,' an unfortunate tragedy, and one of the editors + of the 'Critical Review,'is here satirised. + + [87] 'Fopperies of France,' &c.: in these lines the poet refers to + Murphy's practice of vamping up French plays, and to his 'Desert + Island,' a ridiculous pastoral drama. + + [88] 'Modern tragedy:' Mr Murphy again. + + [89] 'Vain tyrant,' &c.: Garrick is here meant; he had displeased + Churchill by pretending that he had written 'The Rosciad' to gain the + freedom of the playhouse. He apologised very humbly to Churchill, and + a reconciliation took place. + + [90] 'A man:' Dr Smollett again. + + [91] 'Expose the man:' referring to some personal lines on one Mr John + Palmer, which occurred in the first edition, but which he expunged. + + + + +NIGHT.[92] + +AN EPISTLE TO ROBERT LLOYD. + + Contrarius evehor orbi.--OVID, Met. lib. ii. + +When foes insult, and prudent friends dispense, +In pity's strains, the worst of insolence, +Oft with thee, Lloyd, I steal an hour from grief, +And in thy social converse find relief. +The mind, of solitude impatient grown, +Loves any sorrows rather than her own. + Let slaves to business, bodies without soul, +Important blanks in Nature's mighty roll, +Solemnise nonsense in the day's broad glare, +We Night prefer, which heals or hides our care. 10 + Rogues justified, and by success made bold, +Dull fools and coxcombs sanctified by gold, +Freely may bask in fortune's partial ray, +And spread their feathers opening to the day; +But threadbare Merit dares not show the head +Till vain Prosperity retires to bed. +Misfortunes, like the owl, avoid the light; +The sons of Care are always sons of Night. + The wretch, bred up in Method's drowsy school, +Whose only merit is to err by rule, 20 +Who ne'er through heat of blood was tripping caught, +Nor guilty deem'd of one eccentric thought; +Whose soul directed to no use is seen, +Unless to move the body's dull machine, +Which, clock-work like, with the same equal pace +Still travels on through life's insipid space, +Turns up his eyes to think that there should be, +Among God's creatures, two such things as we; +Then for his nightcap calls, and thanks the powers +Which kindly gave him grace to keep good hours. 30 + Good hours!--fine words--but was it ever seen +That all men could agree in what they mean? +Florio, who many years a course hath run +In downright opposition to the sun, +Expatiates on good hours, their cause defends +With as much vigour as our prudent friends. +The uncertain term no settled notion brings, +But still in different mouths means different things; +Each takes the phrase in his own private view; +With Prudence it is ten, with Florio two. 40 + Go on, ye fools! who talk for talking sake, +Without distinguishing, distinctions make; +Shine forth in native folly, native pride, +Make yourselves rules to all the world beside; +Reason, collected in herself, disdains +The slavish yoke of arbitrary chains; +Steady and true, each circumstance she weighs, +Nor to bare words inglorious tribute pays. +Men of sense live exempt from vulgar awe, +And Reason to herself alone is law: 50 +That freedom she enjoys with liberal mind, +Which she as freely grants to all mankind. +No idol-titled name her reverence stirs, +No hour she blindly to the rest prefers; +All are alike, if they're alike employ'd, +And all are good if virtuously enjoy'd. + Let the sage Doctor (think him one we know) +With scraps of ancient learning overflow, +In all the dignity of wig declare +The fatal consequence of midnight air, 60 +How damps and vapours, as it were by stealth, +Undermine life, and sap the walls of health: +For me let Galen moulder on the shelf, +I'll live, and be physician to myself. +Whilst soul is join'd to body, whether fate +Allot a longer or a shorter date, +I'll make them live, as brother should with brother, +And keep them in good humour with each other. + The surest road to health, say what they will, +Is never to suppose we shall be ill. 70 +Most of those evils we poor mortals know, +From doctors and imagination flow. +Hence to old women with your boasted rules, +Stale traps, and only sacred now to fools; +As well may sons of physic hope to find +One medicine, as one hour, for all mankind! + If Rupert after ten is out of bed, +The fool next morning can't hold up his head; +What reason this which me to bed must call, +Whose head, thank Heaven, never aches at all? 80 +In different courses different tempers run; +He hates the moon, I sicken at the sun. +Wound up at twelve at noon, his clock goes right; +Mine better goes, wound up at twelve at night. + Then in oblivion's grateful cup I drown +The galling sneer, the supercilious frown, +The strange reserve, the proud, affected state +Of upstart knaves grown rich, and fools grown great. +No more that abject wretch[93] disturbs my rest, +Who meanly overlooks a friend distress'd. 90 +Purblind to poverty, the worldling goes, +And scarce sees rags an inch beyond his nose; +But from a crowd can single out his Grace, +And cringe and creep to fools who strut in lace. + Whether those classic regions are survey'd +Where we in earliest youth together stray'd, +Where hand in hand we trod the flowery shore, +Though now thy happier genius runs before; +When we conspired a thankless wretch[94] to raise, +And taught a stump to shoot with pilfer'd praise, 100 +Who once, for reverend merit famous grown, +Gratefully strove to kick his maker down; +Or if more general arguments engage,-- +The court or camp, the pulpit, bar, or stage; +If half-bred surgeons, whom men doctors call, +And lawyers, who were never bred at all, +Those mighty letter'd monsters of the earth, +Our pity move, or exercise our mirth; +Or if in tittle-tattle, toothpick way, +Our rambling thoughts with easy freedom stray,-- 110 +A gainer still thy friend himself must find, +His grief suspended, and improved his mind. + Whilst peaceful slumbers bless the homely bed +Where virtue, self-approved, reclines her head; +Whilst vice beneath imagined horrors mourns, +And conscience plants the villain's couch with thorns; +Impatient of restraint, the active mind, +No more by servile prejudice confined, +Leaps from her seat, as waken'd from a trance +And darts through Nature at a single glance 120 +Then we our friends, our foes, ourselves, survey, +And see by Night what fools we are by day. + Stripp'd of her gaudy plumes, and vain disguise, +See where ambition, mean and loathsome, lies; +Reflection with relentless hand pulls down +The tyrant's bloody wreath and ravish'd crown. +In vain he tells of battles bravely won, +Of nations conquer'd, and of worlds undone; +Triumphs like these but ill with manhood suit, +And sink the conqueror beneath the brute. 130 +But if, in searching round the world, we find +Some generous youth, the friend of all mankind, +Whose anger, like the bolt of Jove, is sped +In terrors only at the guilty head, +Whose mercies, like heaven's dew, refreshing fall +In general love and charity to all, +Pleased we behold such worth on any throne, +And doubly pleased we find it on our own. +Through a false medium things are shown by day; +Pomp, wealth, and titles, judgment lead astray. 140 +How many from appearance borrow state, +Whom Night disdains to number with the great! +Must not we laugh to see yon lordling proud +Snuff up vile incense from a fawning crowd? +Whilst in his beam surrounding clients play, +Like insects in the sun's enlivening ray, +Whilst, Jehu-like, he drives at furious rate, +And seems the only charioteer of state, +Talking himself into a little god, +And ruling empires with a single nod; 150 +Who would not think, to hear him law dispense, +That he had interest, and that they had sense? +Injurious thought! beneath Night's honest shade, +When pomp is buried, and false colours fade, +Plainly we see at that impartial hour, +Them dupes to pride, and him the tool of power. + God help the man, condemn'd by cruel fate +To court the seeming, or the real great! +Much sorrow shall he feel, and suffer more +Than any slave who labours at the oar! 160 +By slavish methods must he learn to please, +By smooth-tongued flattery, that cursed court-disease; +Supple, to every wayward mood strike sail, +And shift with shifting humour's peevish gale. +To nature dead, he must adopt vile art, +And wear a smile, with anguish in his heart. +A sense of honour would destroy his schemes, +And conscience ne'er must speak unless in dreams. +When he hath tamely borne, for many years, +Cold looks, forbidding frowns, contemptuous sneers, 170 +When he at last expects, good easy man! +To reap the profits of his labour'd plan, +Some cringing lackey, or rapacious whore, +To favours of the great the surest door, +Some catamite, or pimp, in credit grown, +Who tempts another's wife, or sells his own, +Steps 'cross his hopes, the promised boon denies, +And for some minion's minion claims the prize. + Foe to restraint, unpractised in deceit, +Too resolute, from nature's active heat, 180 +To brook affronts, and tamely pass them by, +Too proud to flatter, too sincere to lie, +Too plain to please, too honest to be great, +Give me, kind Heaven, an humbler, happier state: +Far from the place where men with pride deceive, +Where rascals promise, and where fools believe; +Far from the walk of folly, vice, and strife, +Calm, independent, let me steal through life; +Nor one vain wish my steady thoughts beguile +To fear his Lordship's frown, or court his smile. 190 +Unfit for greatness, I her snares defy, +And look on riches with untainted eye: +To others let the glittering baubles fall, +Content shall place us far above them all. + Spectators only on this bustling stage, +We see what vain designs mankind engage: +Vice after vice with ardour they pursue, +And one old folly brings forth twenty new. +Perplex'd with trifles through the vale of life, +Man strives 'gainst man, without a cause for strife: 200 +Armies embattled meet, and thousands bleed +For some vile spot, where fifty cannot feed. +Squirrels for nuts contend, and, wrong or right, +For the world's empire kings, ambitious, fight. +What odds?--to us 'tis all the self-same thing, +A nut, a world, a squirrel, and a king. + Britons, like Roman spirits famed of old, +Are cast by nature in a patriot mould; +No private joy, no private grief, they know, +Their souls engross'd by public weal or woe; 210 +Inglorious ease, like ours, they greatly scorn; +Let care with nobler wreaths their brows adorn: +Gladly they toil beneath the statesman's pains, +Give them but credit for a statesman's brains. +All would be deem'd, e'en from the cradle, fit +To rule in politics as well as wit. +The grave, the gay, the fopling, and the dunce, +Start up (God bless us!) statesman all at once. + His mighty charge of souls the priest forgets, +The court-bred lord his promises and debts; 220 +Soldiers their fame, misers forget their pelf, +The rake his mistress, and the fop himself; +Whilst thoughts of higher moment claim their care, +And their wise heads the weight of kingdoms bear. + Females themselves the glorious ardour feel, +And boast an equal or a greater zeal; +From nymph to nymph the state-infection flies, +Swells in her breast, and sparkles in her eyes. +O'erwhelm'd by politics lie malice, pride, +Envy, and twenty other faults beside. 230 +No more their little fluttering hearts confess +A passion for applause, or rage for dress; +No more they pant for public raree-shows, +Or lose one thought on monkeys or on beaux: +Coquettes no more pursue the jilting plan, +And lustful prudes forget to rail at man: +The darling theme Cecilia's self will choose, +Nor thinks of scandal whilst she talks of news. + The cit, a common-councilman by place, +Ten thousand mighty nothings in his face, 240 +By situation as by nature great, +With nice precision parcels out the state; +Proves and disproves, affirms and then denies, +Objects himself, and to himself replies; +Wielding aloft the politician rod, +Makes Pitt by turns a devil and a god; +Maintains, e'en to the very teeth of Power, +The same thing right and wrong in half an hour: +Now all is well, now he suspects a plot, +And plainly proves, whatever is, is not: 250 +Fearfully wise, he shakes his empty head, +And deals out empires as he deals out thread; +His useless scales are in a corner flung, +And Europe's balance hangs upon his tongue. + Peace to such triflers! be our happier plan +To pass through life as easy as we can. +Who's in or out, who moves this grand machine, +Nor stirs my curiosity, nor spleen. +Secrets of state no more I wish to know +Than secret movements of a puppet-show: 260 +Let but the puppets move, I've my desire, +Unseen the hand which guides the master-wire. + What is't to us if taxes rise or fall? +Thanks to our fortune, we pay none at all. +Let muckworms, who in dirty acres deal, +Lament those hardships which we cannot feel. +His Grace, who smarts, may bellow if he please, +But must I bellow too, who sit at ease? +By custom safe, the poet's numbers flow +Free as the light and air some years ago. 270 +No statesman e'er will find it worth his pains +To tax our labours, and excise our brains. +Burthens like these, vile earthly buildings bear; +No tribute's laid on castles in the air. + Let, then, the flames of war destructive reign, +And England's terrors awe imperious Spain; +Let every venal clan[95] and neutral tribe +Learn to receive conditions, not prescribe; +Let each new year call loud for new supplies, +And tax on tax with double burthen rise; 280 +Exempt we sit, by no rude cares oppress'd, +And, having little, are with little bless'd. +All real ills in dark oblivion lie, +And joys, by fancy form'd, their place supply; +Night's laughing hours unheeded slip away, +Nor one dull thought foretells approach of day. + Thus have we lived, and whilst the Fates afford +Plain plenty to supply the frugal board; +Whilst Mirth with Decency, his lovely bride, +And wine's gay god, with Temperance by his side, 290 +Their welcome visit pay; whilst Health attends +The narrow circle of our chosen friends; +Whilst frank Good-humour consecrates the treat, +And woman makes society complete, +Thus will we live, though in our teeth are hurl'd +Those hackney strumpets, Prudence and the World. + Prudence, of old a sacred term, implied +Virtue, with godlike wisdom for her guide; +But now in general use is known to mean +The stalking-horse of vice, and folly's screen. 300 +The sense perverted, we retain the name; +Hypocrisy and Prudence are the same. + A tutor once, more read in men than books, +A kind of crafty knowledge in his looks, +Demurely sly, with high preferment bless'd, +His favourite pupil in these words address'd:-- +Wouldst thou, my son, be wise and virtuous deem'd; +By all mankind a prodigy esteem'd? +Be this thy rule; be what men prudent call; +Prudence, almighty Prudence, gives thee all. 310 +Keep up appearances; there lies the test; +The world will give thee credit for the rest. +Outward be fair, however foul within; +Sin if thou wilt, but then in secret sin. +This maxim's into common favour grown, +Vice is no longer vice, unless 'tis known. +Virtue, indeed, may barefaced take the field; +But vice is virtue when 'tis well conceal'd. +Should raging passion drive thee to a whore, +Let Prudence lead thee to a postern door; 320 +Stay out all night, but take especial care +That Prudence bring thee back to early prayer. +As one with watching and with study faint, +Reel in a drunkard, and reel out a saint. + With joy the youth this useful lesson heard, +And in his memory stored each precious word; +Successfully pursued the plan, and now, +Room for my Lord--Virtue, stand by and bow. + And is this all--is this the worldling's art, +To mask, but not amend a vicious heart 330 +Shall lukewarm caution, and demeanour grave, +For wise and good stamp every supple knave +Shall wretches, whom no real virtue warms, +Gild fair their names and states with empty forms; +While Virtue seeks in vain the wish'd-for prize, +Because, disdaining ill, she hates disguise; +Because she frankly pours fourth all her store, +Seems what she is, and scorns to pass for more +Well--be it so--let vile dissemblers hold +Unenvied power, and boast their dear-bought gold; 340 +Me neither power shall tempt, nor thirst of pelf, +To flatter others, or deny myself; +Might the whole world be placed within my span, +I would not be that thing, that prudent man. + What! cries Sir Pliant, would you then oppose +Yourself, alone, against a host of foes? +Let not conceit, and peevish lust to rail, +Above all sense of interest prevail. +Throw off, for shame! this petulance of wit; +Be wise, be modest, and for once submit: 350 +Too hard the task 'gainst multitudes to fight; +You must be wrong; the World is in the right. + What is this World?--A term which men have got +To signify, not one in ten knows what; +A term, which with no more precision passes +To point out herds of men than herds of asses; +In common use no more it means, we find, +Than many fools in same opinions join'd. + Can numbers, then, change Nature's stated laws? +Can numbers make the worse the better cause? 360 +Vice must be vice, virtue be virtue still, +Though thousands rail at good, and practise ill. +Wouldst thou defend the Gaul's destructive rage, +Because vast nations on his part engage? +Though, to support the rebel Caesar's cause, +Tumultuous legions arm against the laws; +Though scandal would our patriot's name impeach, +And rails at virtues which she cannot reach, +What honest man but would with joy submit +To bleed with Cato, and retire with Pitt?[96] 370 + Steadfast and true to virtue's sacred laws, +Unmoved by vulgar censure, or applause, +Let the World talk, my friend; that World, we know, +Which calls us guilty, cannot make us so. +Unawed by numbers, follow Nature's plan; +Assert the rights, or quit the name of man. +Consider well, weigh strictly right and wrong; +Resolve not quick, but once resolved, be strong. +In spite of Dulness, and in spite of Wit, +If to thyself thou canst thyself acquit, 380 +Rather stand up, assured with conscious pride, +Alone, than err with millions on thy side. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [92] 'Night:' this poem was written to defend the irregularities + imputed to the poet. + + [93] 'Abject wretch:' Thornton, who abandoned Lloyd in his distress. + + [94] 'Thankless wretch:' one Sellon, a popular clergyman, aided at + first by Churchill and his set, but who betrayed and blackened them + afterwards. We meet with him again in 'The Ghost' as Plausible. + + [95] 'Venal Clan:' alluding to Mr Pitt's employing the Highland clans + in the American war. + + [96] 'Pitt:' who retired in 1761, because the cabinet would not go to + war with Spain. + + + + +THE PROPHECY OF FAMINE. + +A SCOTS PASTORAL INSCRIBED TO JOHN WILKES, ESQ. + + Nos patriam fugimus.--VIRGIL. + +When Cupid first instructs his darts to fly +From the sly corner of some cook-maid's eye, +The stripling raw, just enter'd in his teens, +Receives the wound, and wonders what it means; +His heart, like dripping, melts, and new desire +Within him stirs, each time she stirs the fire; +Trembling and blushing, he the fair one views, +And fain would speak, but can't--without a Muse. + So to the sacred mount he takes his way, +Prunes his young wings, and tunes his infant lay, 10 +His oaten reed to rural ditties frames, +To flocks and rocks, to hills and rills, proclaims, +In simplest notes, and all unpolish'd strains, +The loves of nymphs, and eke the loves of swains. + Clad, as your nymphs were always clad of yore, +In rustic weeds--a cook-maid now no more-- +Beneath an aged oak Lardella lies-- +Green moss her couch, her canopy the skies. +From aromatic shrubs the roguish gale +Steals young perfumes and wafts them through the vale. 20 +The youth, turn'd swain, and skill'd in rustic lays, +Fast by her side his amorous descant plays. +Herds low, flocks bleat, pies chatter, ravens scream, +And the full chorus dies a-down the stream: +The streams, with music freighted, as they pass +Present the fair Lardella with a glass; +And Zephyr, to complete the love-sick plan, +Waves his light wings, and serves her for a fan. + But when maturer Judgment takes the lead, +These childish toys on Reason's altar bleed; 30 +Form'd after some great man, whose name breeds awe, +Whose every sentence Fashion makes a law; +Who on mere credit his vain trophies rears, +And founds his merit on our servile fears; +Then we discard the workings of the heart, +And nature's banish'd by mechanic art; +Then, deeply read, our reading must be shown; +Vain is that knowledge which remains unknown: +Then Ostentation marches to our aid, +And letter'd Pride stalks forth in full parade; 40 +Beneath their care behold the work refine, +Pointed each sentence, polish'd every line; +Trifles are dignified, and taught to wear +The robes of ancients with a modern air; +Nonsense with classic ornaments is graced, +And passes current with the stamp of taste. + Then the rude Theocrite is ransack'd o'er, +And courtly Maro call'd from Mincio's shore; +Sicilian Muses on our mountains roam, +Easy and free as if they were at home; 50 +Nymphs, naïads, nereïds, dryads, satyrs, fauns, +Sport in our floods, and trip it o'er our lawns; +Flowers which once flourish'd fair in Greece and Rome, +More fair revive in England's meads to bloom; +Skies without cloud, exotic suns adorn, +And roses blush, but blush without a thorn; +Landscapes, unknown to dowdy Nature, rise, +And new creations strike our wondering eyes. + For bards like these, who neither sing nor say, +Grave without thought, and without feeling gay, 60 +Whose numbers in one even tenor flow, +Attuned to pleasure, and attuned to woe; +Who, if plain Common-Sense her visit pays, +And mars one couplet in their happy lays, +As at some ghost affrighted, start and stare, +And ask the meaning of her coming there: +For bards like these a wreath shall Mason[97] bring, +Lined with the softest down of Folly's wing; +In Love's pagoda shall they ever doze, +And Gisbal[98] kindly rock them to repose; 70 +My Lord ----, to letters as to faith most true-- +At once their patron and example too-- +Shall quaintly fashion his love-labour'd dreams, +Sigh with sad winds, and weep with weeping streams;[99] +Curious in grief (for real grief, we know, +Is curious to dress up the tale of woe), +From the green umbrage of some Druid's seat +Shall his own works, in his own way, repeat. + Me, whom no Muse of heavenly birth inspires, +No judgment tempers when rash genius fires; 80 +Who boast no merit but mere knack of rhyme, +Short gleams of sense, and satire out of time; +Who cannot follow where trim fancy leads, +By prattling streams, o'er flower-empurpled meads; +Who often, but without success, have pray'd +For apt Alliteration's artful aid; +Who would, but cannot, with a master's skill, +Coin fine new epithets, which mean no ill: +Me, thus uncouth, thus every way unfit +For pacing poesy, and ambling wit, 90 +Taste with contempt beholds, nor deigns to place +Amongst the lowest of her favour'd race. + Thou, Nature, art my goddess--to thy law +Myself I dedicate! Hence, slavish awe! +Which bends to fashion, and obeys the rules +Imposed at first, and since observed by fools; +Hence those vile tricks which mar fair Nature's hue, +And bring the sober matron forth to view, +With all that artificial tawdry glare +Which virtue scorns, and none but strumpets wear! 100 +Sick of those pomps, those vanities, that waste +Of toil, which critics now mistake for taste; +Of false refinements sick, and labour'd ease, +Which art, too thinly veil'd, forbids to please; +By Nature's charms (inglorious truth!) subdued, +However plain her dress, and 'haviour rude, +To northern climes my happier course I steer, +Climes where the goddess reigns throughout the year; +Where, undisturb'd by Art's rebellious plan, +She rules the loyal laird, and faithful clan. 110 + To that rare soil, where virtues clustering grow, +What mighty blessings doth not England owe! +What waggon-loads of courage, wealth, and sense, +Doth each revolving day import from thence? +To us she gives, disinterested friend! +Faith without fraud, and Stuarts[100] without end. +When we prosperity's rich trappings wear, +Come not her generous sons and take a share? +And if, by some disastrous turn of fate, +Change should ensue, and ruin seize the state, 120 +Shall we not find, safe in that hallow'd ground, +Such refuge as the holy martyr[101] found? + +Nor less our debt in science, though denied +By the weak slaves of prejudice and pride. +Thence came the Ramsays,[102] names of worthy note, +Of whom one paints, as well as t'other wrote; +Thence, Home,[103] disbanded from the sons of prayer +For loving plays, though no dull Dean[104] was there; +Thence issued forth, at great Macpherson's[105] call, +That old, new, epic pastoral, Fingal; 130 +Thence Malloch,[106] friend alike to Church and State, +Of Christ and Liberty, by grateful Fate +Raised to rewards, which, in a pious reign, +All daring infidels should seek in vain; +Thence simple bards, by simple prudence taught, +To this wise town by simple patrons brought, +In simple manner utter simple lays, +And take, with simple pensions, simple praise. + Waft me, some Muse, to Tweed's inspiring stream, +Where all the little Loves and Graces dream; 140 +Where, slowly winding, the dull waters creep, +And seem themselves to own the power of sleep; +Where on the surface lead, like feathers, swims; +There let me bathe my yet unhallow'd limbs, +As once a Syrian bathed in Jordan's flood-- +Wash off my native stains, correct that blood +Which mutinies at call of English pride, +And, deaf to prudence, rolls a patriot tide. + From solemn thought which overhangs the brow +Of patriot care, when things are--God knows how; 150 +From nice trim points, where Honour, slave to Rule, +In compliment to Folly, plays the fool; +From those gay scenes, where Mirth exalts his power, +And easy Humour wings the laughing hour; +From those soft better moments, when desire +Beats high, and all the world of man's on fire; +When mutual ardours of the melting fair +More than repay us for whole years of care, +At Friendship's summons will my Wilkes retreat, +And see, once seen before, that ancient seat, 160 +That ancient seat, where majesty display'd +Her ensigns, long before the world was made! + Mean narrow maxims, which enslave mankind, +Ne'er from its bias warp thy settled mind: +Not duped by party, nor opinion's slave, +Those faculties which bounteous nature gave, +Thy honest spirit into practice brings, +Nor courts the smile, nor dreads the frown of kings. +Let rude licentious Englishmen comply +With tumult's voice, and curse--they know not why; 170 +Unwilling to condemn, thy soul disdains +To wear vile faction's arbitrary chains, +And strictly weighs, in apprehension clear, +Things as they are, and not as they appear. +With thee good humour tempers lively wit; +Enthroned with Judgment, Candour loves to sit; +And nature gave thee, open to distress, +A heart to pity, and a hand to bless. + Oft have I heard thee mourn the wretched lot +Of the poor, mean, despised, insulted Scot, 180 +Who, might calm reason credit idle tales, +By rancour forged where prejudice prevails, +Or starves at home, or practises, through fear +Of starving, arts which damn all conscience here. +When scribblers, to the charge by interest led, +The fierce North Briton[107] foaming at their head, +Pour forth invectives, deaf to Candour's call, +And, injured by one alien, rail at all; +On northern Pisgah when they take their stand, +To mark the weakness of that Holy Land, 190 +With needless truths their libels to adorn, +And hang a nation up to public scorn, +Thy generous soul condemns the frantic rage, +And hates the faithful, but ill-natured page. + The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride; +True is the charge, nor by themselves denied. +Are they not, then, in strictest reason clear, +Who wisely come to mend their fortunes here? +If, by low supple arts successful grown, +They sapp'd our vigour to increase their own; 200 +If, mean in want, and insolent in power, +They only fawn'd more surely to devour, +Roused by such wrongs, should Reason take alarm, +And e'en the Muse for public safety arm? +But if they own ingenuous virtue's sway, +And follow where true honour points the way, +If they revere the hand by which they're fed, +And bless the donors for their daily bread, +Or, by vast debts of higher import bound, +Are always humble, always grateful found: 210 +If they, directed by Paul's holy pen, +Become discreetly all things to all men, +That all men may become all things to them, +Envy may hate, but Justice can't condemn. +Into our places, states, and beds they creep; +They've sense to get, what we want sense to keep. + Once--be the hour accursed, accursed the place!-- +I ventured to blaspheme the chosen race. +Into those traps, which men call'd patriots laid, +By specious arts unwarily betray'd, 220 +Madly I leagued against that sacred earth, +Vile parricide! which gave a parent birth: +But shall I meanly error's path pursue, +When heavenly truth presents her friendly clue? +Once plunged in ill, shall I go farther in? +To make the oath, was rash: to keep it, sin. +Backward I tread the paths I trod before, +And calm reflection hates what passion swore. +Converted, (blessed are the souls which know +Those pleasures which from true conversion flow, 230 +Whether to reason, who now rules my breast, +Or to pure faith, like Lyttelton and West),[108] +Past crimes to expiate, be my present aim +To raise new trophies to the Scottish name; +To make (what can the proudest Muse do more?) +E'en faction's sons her brighter worth adore; +To make her glories, stamp'd with honest rhymes, +In fullest tide roll down to latest times. + Presumptuous wretch! and shall a Muse like thine, +An English Muse, the meanest of the Nine, 240 +Attempt a theme like this? Can her weak strain +Expect indulgence from the mighty Thane? +Should he from toils of government retire, +And for a moment fan the poet's fire; +Should he, of sciences the moral friend, +Each curious, each important search suspend, +Leave unassisted Hill[109] of herbs to tell, +And all the wonders of a cockleshell; +Having the Lord's good grace before his eyes, +Would not the Home[110] step forth and gain the prize? 250 +Or if this wreath of honour might adorn +The humble brows of one in England born, +Presumptuous still thy daring must appear; +Vain all thy towering hopes whilst I am here. + Thus spake a form, by silken smile and tone, +Dull and unvaried, for the Laureate[111] known, +Folly's chief friend, Decorum's eldest son, +In every party found, and yet of none. +This airy substance, this substantial shade, +Abash'd I heard, and with respect obey'd. 260 + From themes too lofty for a bard so mean, +Discretion beckons to an humbler scene; +The restless fever of ambition laid, +Calm I retire, and seek the sylvan shade. +Now be the Muse disrobed of all her pride, +Be all the glare of verse by truth supplied. +And if plain nature pours a simple strain, +Which Bute may praise, and Ossian not disdain,-- +Ossian, sublimest, simplest bard of all, +Whom English infidels Macpherson call,-- 270 +Then round my head shall Honour's ensigns wave, +And pensions mark me for a willing slave. + Two boys, whose birth, beyond all question, springs +From great and glorious, though forgotten, kings-- +Shepherds, of Scottish lineage, born and bred +On the same bleak and barren mountain's head; +By niggard nature doom'd on the same rocks +To spin out life, and starve themselves and flocks; +Fresh as the morning, which, enrobed in mist, +The mountain's top with usual dulness kiss'd, 280 +Jockey and Sawney to their labours rose; +Soon clad, I ween, where nature needs no clothes; +Where, from their youth inured to winter-skies, +Dress and her vain refinements they despise. + Jockey, whose manly high-boned cheeks to crown, +With freckles spotted, flamed the golden down, +With meikle art could on the bagpipes play, +E'en from the rising to the setting day; +Sawney as long without remorse could bawl +Home's madrigals, and ditties from Fingal: 290 +Oft at his strains, all natural though rude, +The Highland lass forgot her want of food; +And, whilst she scratch'd her lover into rest, +Sunk pleased, though hungry, on her Sawney's breast. + Far as the eye could reach, no tree was seen; +Earth, clad in russet, scorn'd the lively green: +The plague of locusts they secure defy, +For in three hours a grasshopper must die: +No living thing, whate'er its food, feasts there, +But the cameleon, who can feast on air. 300 +No birds, except as birds of passage, flew; +No bee was known to hum, no dove to coo: +No streams, as amber smooth, as amber clear, +Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here: +Rebellion's spring, which through the country ran, +Furnish'd, with bitter draughts, the steady clan: +No flowers embalm'd the air, but one white rose,[112] +Which on the tenth of June by instinct blows; +By instinct blows at morn, and when the shades +Of drizzly eve prevail, by instinct fades. 310 + One, and but one poor solitary cave, +Too sparing of her favours, nature gave; +That one alone (hard tax on Scottish pride!) +Shelter at once for man and beast supplied. +There snares without, entangling briars spread, +And thistles, arm'd against the invader's head, +Stood in close ranks, all entrance to oppose; +Thistles now held more precious than the rose. +All creatures which, on nature's earliest plan, +Were formed to loathe and to be loathed by man, 320 +Which owed their birth to nastiness and spite, +Deadly to touch, and hateful to the sight; +Creatures which, when admitted in the ark, +Their saviour shunn'd, and rankled in the dark, +Found place within: marking her noisome road +With poison's trail, here crawl'd the bloated toad; +There webs were spread of more than common size, +And half-starved spiders prey'd on half-starved flies; +In quest of food, efts strove in vain to crawl; +Slugs, pinch'd with hunger, smear'd the slimy wall: 330 +The cave around with hissing serpents rung; +On the damp roof unhealthy vapour hung; +And Famine, by her children always known, +As proud as poor, here fix'd her native throne. + Here, for the sullen sky was overcast, +And summer shrunk beneath a wintry blast-- +A native blast, which, arm'd with hail and rain, +Beat unrelenting on the naked swain, +The boys for shelter made; behind, the sheep, +Of which those shepherds every day _take keep_, 340 +Sickly crept on, and, with complainings rude, +On nature seem'd to call, and bleat for food. + +JOCKEY. + + _Sith_ to this cave by tempest we're confined, +And within _ken_ our flocks, under the wind, +Safe from the pelting of this perilous storm, +Are laid _emong_ yon thistles, dry and warm, +What, Sawney, if by shepherds' art we try +To mock the rigour of this cruel sky? +What if we tune some merry roundelay? +Well dost thou sing, nor ill doth Jockey play. 350 + +SAWNEY. + + Ah! Jockey, ill advisest thou, _I wis_, +To think of songs at such a time as this: +Sooner shall herbage crown these barren rocks, +Sooner shall fleeces clothe these ragged flocks, +Sooner shall want seize shepherds of the south, +And we forget to live from hand to mouth, +Than Sawney, out of season, shall impart +The songs of gladness with an aching heart. + +JOCKEY. + + Still have I known thee for a silly swain; +Of things past help, what boots it to complain? 360 +Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite; +No sky is heavy, if the heart be light: +Patience is sorrow's salve: what can't be cured, +So Donald right areads, must be endured. + +SAWNEY. + + Full silly swain, _I wot_, is Jockey now. +How didst thou bear thy Maggy's falsehood? How, +When with a foreign loon she stole away, +Didst thou forswear thy pipe and shepherd's lay? +Where was thy boasted wisdom then, when I +Applied those proverbs which you now apply? 370 + +JOCKEY. + + Oh, she was _bonny_! All the Highlands round +Was there a rival to my Maggy found? +More precious (though that precious is to all) +Than the rare medicine which we Brimstone call, +Or that choice plant,[113] so grateful to the nose, +Which, in I know not what far country, grows, +Was Maggy unto me: dear do I rue +A lass so fair should ever prove untrue. + +SAWNEY. + + Whether with pipe or song to charm the ear, +Through all the land did Jamie find a peer? 380 +Cursed be that year[114] by every honest Scot, +And in the shepherd's calendar forgot, +That fatal year when Jamie, hapless swain! +In evil hour forsook the peaceful plain: +Jamie, when our young laird discreetly fled, +Was seized, and hang'd till he was dead, dead, dead. + +JOCKEY. + + Full sorely may we all lament that day, +For all were losers in the deadly fray. +Five brothers had I on the Scottish plains, +Well dost thou know were none more hopeful swains; 390 +Five brothers there I lost, in manhood's pride; +Two in the field, and three on gibbets died. +Ah, silly swains! to follow war's alarms; +Ah! what hath shepherds' life to do with arms? + +SAWNEY. + + Mention it not--there saw I strangers clad +In all the honours of our ravish'd plaid; +Saw the Ferrara, too, our nation's pride, +Unwilling grace the awkward victor's side. +There fell our choicest youth, and from that day +_Mote_ never Sawney tune the merry lay; 400 +Bless'd those which fell! cursed those which still survive, +To mourn Fifteen renew'd in Forty-five! + + Thus plain'd the boys, when, from her throne of turf, +With boils emboss'd, and overgrown with scurf, +Vile humours which, in life's corrupted well +Mix'd at the birth, not abstinence could quell, +Pale Famine rear'd the head; her eager eyes, +Where hunger e'en to madness seem'd to rise, +Speaking aloud her throes and pangs of heart, +Strain'd to get loose, and from their orbs to start: 410 +Her hollow cheeks were each a deep-sunk cell, +Where wretchedness and horror loved to dwell; +With double rows of useless teeth supplied, +Her mouth, from ear to ear, extended wide, +Which, when for want of food her entrails pined, +She oped, and, cursing, swallow'd nought but wind: +All shrivell'd was her skin; and here and there, +Making their way by force, her bones lay bare: +Such filthy sight to hide from human view, +O'er her foul limbs a tatter'd plaid she threw. 420 + Cease, cried the goddess, cease, despairing swains! +And from a parent hear what Jove ordains. + Pent in this barren corner of the isle, +Where partial fortune never deign'd to smile; +Like nature's bastards, reaping for our share +What was rejected by the lawful heir; +Unknown amongst the nations of the earth, +Or only known to raise contempt and mirth; +Long free, because the race of Roman braves +Thought it not worth their while to make us slaves; 430 +Then into bondage by that nation brought, +Whose ruin we for ages vainly sought; +Whom still with unslaked hate we view, and still, +The power of mischief lost, retain the will; +Consider'd as the refuse of mankind, +A mass till the last moment left behind, +Which frugal nature doubted, as it lay, +Whether to stamp with life or throw away; +Which, form'd in haste, was planted in this nook, +But never enter'd in Creation's book; 440 +Branded as traitors who, for love of gold, +Would sell their God, as once their king they sold,-- +Long have we borne this mighty weight of ill, +These vile injurious taunts, and bear them still. +But times of happier note are now at hand, +And the full promise of a better land: +There, like the sons of Israel, having trod, +For the fix'd term of years ordain'd by God, +A barren desert, we shall seize rich plains, +Where milk with honey flows, and plenty reigns: 450 +With some few natives join'd, some pliant few, +Who worship Interest and our track pursue; +There shall we, though the wretched people grieve, +Ravage at large, nor ask the owners' leave. + For us, the earth shall bring forth her increase; +For us, the flocks shall wear a golden fleece; +Fat beeves shall yield us dainties not our own, +And the grape bleed a nectar yet unknown: +For our advantage shall their harvests grow, +And Scotsmen reap what they disdain'd to sow: 460 +For us, the sun shall climb the eastern hill; +For us, the rain shall fall, the dew distil. +When to our wishes Nature cannot rise, +Art shall be task'd to grant us fresh supplies; +His brawny arm shall drudging Labour strain, +And for our pleasure suffer daily pain: +Trade shall for us exert her utmost powers, +Hers all the toil, and all the profit ours: +For us, the oak shall from his native steep +Descend, and fearless travel through the deep: 470 +The sail of commerce, for our use unfurl'd, +Shall waft the treasures of each distant world: +For us, sublimer heights shall science reach; +For us, their statesman plot, their churchmen preach: +Their noblest limbs of council we'll disjoint, +And, mocking, new ones of our own appoint. +Devouring War, imprison'd in the North, +Shall, at our call, in horrid pomp break forth, +And when, his chariot-wheels with thunder hung, +Fell Discord braying with her brazen tongue, 480 +Death in the van, with Anger, Hate, and Fear, +And Desolation stalking in the rear, +Revenge, by Justice guided, in his train, +He drives impetuous o'er the trembling plain, +Shall, at our bidding, quit his lawful prey, +And to meek, gentle, generous Peace give way. + Think not, my sons, that this so bless'd estate +Stands at a distance on the roll of fate; +Already big with hopes of future sway, +E'en from this cave I scent my destined prey. 490 +Think not that this dominion o'er a race, +Whose former deeds shall time's last annals grace, +In the rough face of peril must be sought, +And with the lives of thousands dearly bought: +No--fool'd by cunning, by that happy art +Which laughs to scorn the blundering hero's heart, +Into the snare shall our kind neighbours fall +With open eyes, and fondly give us all. + When Rome, to prop her sinking empire, bore +Their choicest levies to a foreign shore, 500 +What if we seized, like a destroying flood, +Their widow'd plains, and fill'd the realm with blood; +Gave an unbounded loose to manly rage, +And, scorning mercy, spared nor sex, nor age? +When, for our interest too mighty grown, +Monarchs of warlike bent possessed the throne, +What if we strove divisions to foment, +And spread the flames of civil discontent, +Assisted those who 'gainst their king made head, +And gave the traitors refuge when they fled? 510 +When restless Glory bade her sons advance, +And pitch'd her standard in the fields of France, +What if, disdaining oaths,--an empty sound, +By which our nation never shall be bound,-- +Bravely we taught unmuzzled War to roam, +Through the weak land, and brought cheap laurels home? +When the bold traitors, leagued for the defence +Of law, religion, liberty, and sense, +When they against their lawful monarch rose, +And dared the Lord's anointed to oppose, 520 +What if we still revered the banish'd race, +And strove the royal vagrants to replace; +With fierce rebellions shook the unsettled state, +And greatly dared, though cross'd by partial fate? +These facts, which might, where wisdom held the sway, +Awake the very stones to bar our way, +There shall be nothing, nor one trace remain +In the dull region of an English brain; +Bless'd with that faith which mountains can remove, +First they shall dupes, next saints, last martyrs, prove. 530 + Already is this game of Fate begun +Under the sanction of my darling son;[115] +That son, of nature royal as his name, +Is destined to redeem our race from shame: +His boundless power, beyond example great, +Shall make the rough way smooth, the crooked straight; +Shall for our ease the raging floods restrain, +And sink the mountain level to the plain. +Discord, whom in a cavern under ground +With massy fetters their late patriot bound; 540 +Where her own flesh the furious hag might tear, +And vent her curses to the vacant air; +Where, that she never might be heard of more, +He planted Loyalty to guard the door, +For better purpose shall our chief release, +Disguise her for a time, and call her Peace.[116] + Lured by that name--fine engine of deceit!-- +Shall the weak English help themselves to cheat; +To gain our love, with honours shall they grace +The old adherents of the Stuart race, 550 +Who, pointed out no matter by what name, +Tories or Jacobites, are still the same; +To soothe our rage the temporising brood +Shall break the ties of truth and gratitude, +Against their saviour venom'd falsehoods frame, +And brand with calumny their William's name: +To win our grace, (rare argument of wit!) +To our untainted faith shall they commit +(Our faith, which, in extremest perils tried, +Disdain'd, and still disdains, to change her side) 560 +That sacred Majesty they all approve, +Who most enjoys, and best deserves their love. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [97] 'Mason:' William Mason, author of 'Elfrida,' 'Caractacus,' and an + 'Elegy on the Death of the Countess of Coventry,' the intimate friend, + executor, and biographer of Gray. + + [98] 'Gisbal:' a stupid and scurrilous attack on Scotland. + + [99] 'Weeping streams:' referring to Lord Lyttelton's Monody on his + wife's death, and his Essay on the conversion of Paul. + + [100] 'Stuarts:' the family name of Lord Bute. + + [101] 'Holy martyr:' Charles I. + + [102] 'Ramsays:' Allan Ramsay, author of the 'Gentle Shepherd,' and his + son (Allan), a fine painter, intimate with Reynolds and Johnson. + + [103] 'Home:' John Home, the well known author of 'Douglas.' See + Mackenzie's Life. + + [104] 'Dull Dean:' Dr Zachary Pearce, Bishop of Rochester and Dean of + Westminster, who rebuked Churchill for writing on players and dressing + like a layman. + + [105] 'Great Macpherson:' James Macpherson, translator or author of + 'Ossian.' + + [106] 'Malloch:' David Mallett, son of an innkeeper in Crieff, friend + of Thomson's, author of a poor life of Bacon, and of one good ballad, + 'William and Margaret,' editor of Bolingbroke's posthumous infidel + works, under-secretary to the Prince of Wales, and a pensioner. + + [107] 'North Briton:' the famous paper conducted by Wilkes. + + [108] 'Lyttelton and West:' George Lord Lyttelton, author of the + history of Henry II. and Gilbert West, the translator of Pindar, both + originally sceptical, but both converted,--the one, the author of a + Dissertation on Paul's conversion; the other, of a book on the + resurrection of Christ. + + [109] 'Hill,' a protégé of Lord Bute's. See a note upon 'The Rescind.' + + [110] 'Home:' John Home, another of Lord Bute's protégés. + + [111] 'Laureate:' William Whitehead, Laureate after C. Cibber, who had + somehow provoked Churchill. + + [112] 'White rose:' The emblem of the Jacobites, a white rose, was worn + by them, in honour of the young Pretender's birthday, on the 10th of + June. + + [113] 'Choice plant:' Tobacco. + + [114] 'That year:' the year 1745. + + [115] 'Darling son:' Bute. + + [116] 'Peace:' that of 1763, abused by all the Opposition. + + + + +AN EPISTLE TO WILLIAM HOGARTH.[117] + + +Amongst the sons of men how few are known +Who dare be just to merit not their own! +Superior virtue and superior sense, +To knaves and fools, will always give offence; +Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear, +So nice is jealousy, a rival there. + Be wicked as thou wilt; do all that's base; +Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race: +Let vice and folly thy black soul divide; +Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride. 10 +Deaf to the voice of Faith and Honour, fall +From side to side, yet be of none at all: +Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties, +Which Nature, in her bounty, good as wise, +To work our safety, and ensure her plan, +Contrived to bind and rivet man to man: +Lift against Virtue, Power's oppressive rod; +Betray thy country, and deny thy God; +And, in one general comprehensive line, +To group, which volumes scarcely could define, 20 +Whate'er of sin and dulness can be said, +Join to a Fox's[118] heart a Dashwood's[119] head; +Yet may'st thou pass unnoticed in the throng, +And, free from envy, safely sneak along: +The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown +To saints whose lives are better than his own, +Shall spare thy crimes; and Wit, who never once +Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce. + But should thy soul, form'd in some luckless hour, +Vile interest scorn, nor madly grasp at power; 30 +Should love of fame, in every noble mind +A brave disease, with love of virtue join'd, +Spur thee to deeds of pith, where courage, tried +In Reason's court, is amply justified: +Or, fond of knowledge, and averse to strife, +Shouldst thou prefer the calmer walk of life; +Shouldst thou, by pale and sickly study led, +Pursue coy Science to the fountain-head; +Virtue thy guide, and public good thy end, +Should every thought to our improvement tend, 40 +To curb the passions, to enlarge the mind, +Purge the sick Weal, and humanise mankind; +Rage in her eye, and malice in her breast, +Redoubled Horror grining on her crest, +Fiercer each snake, and sharper every dart, +Quick from her cell shall maddening Envy start. +Then shalt thou find, but find, alas! too late, +How vain is worth! how short is glory's date! +Then shalt thou find, whilst friends with foes conspire, +To give more proof than virtue would desire, 50 +Thy danger chiefly lies in acting well; +No crime's so great as daring to excel. + Whilst Satire thus, disdaining mean control, +Urged the free dictates of an honest soul, +Candour, who, with the charity of Paul, +Still thinks the best, whene'er she thinks at all, +With the sweet milk of human kindness bless'd, +The furious ardour of my zeal repress'd. +Canst thou, with more than usual warmth she cried, +Thy malice to indulge, and feed thy pride; 60 +Canst thou, severe by nature as thou art, +With all that wondrous rancour in thy heart, +Delight to torture truth ten thousand ways, +To spin detraction forth from themes of praise, +To make Vice sit, for purposes of strife, +And draw the hag much larger than the life, +To make the good seem bad, the bad seem worse, +And represent our nature as our curse? + Doth not humanity condemn that zeal +Which tends to aggravate and not to heal? 70 +Doth not discretion warn thee of disgrace, +And danger, grinning, stare thee in the face, +Loud as the drum, which, spreading terror round, +From emptiness acquires the power of sound? +Doth not the voice of Norton[120] strike thy ear, +And the pale Mansfield[121] chill thy soul with fear? +Dost thou, fond man, believe thyself secure +Because thou'rt honest, and because thou'rt poor? +Dost thou on law and liberty depend? +Turn, turn thy eyes, and view thy injured friend. 80 +Art thou beyond the ruffian gripe of Power, +When Wilkes, prejudged, is sentenced to the Tower? +Dost thou by privilege exemption claim, +When privilege is little more than name? +Or to prerogative (that glorious ground +On which state scoundrels oft have safety found) +Dost thou pretend, and there a sanction find, +Unpunish'd, thus to libel human-kind + When poverty, the poet's constant crime, +Compell'd thee, all unfit, to trade in rhyme, 90 +Had not romantic notions turn'd thy head, +Hadst thou not valued honour more than bread; +Had Interest, pliant Interest, been thy guide, +And had not Prudence been debauch'd by Pride, +In Flattery's stream thou wouldst have dipp'd thy pen, +Applied to great and not to honest men; +Nor should conviction have seduced thy heart +To take the weaker, though the better part. + What but rank folly, for thy curse decreed, +Could into Satire's barren path mislead, 100 +When, open to thy view, before thee lay +Soul-soothing Panegyric's flowery way? +There might the Muse have saunter'd at her ease, +And, pleasing others, learn'd herself to please; +Lords should have listen'd to the sugar'd treat, +And ladies, simpering, own'd it vastly sweet; +Rogues, in thy prudent verse with virtue graced, +Fools mark'd by thee as prodigies of taste, +Must have forbid, pouring preferments down, +Such wit, such truth as thine to quit the gown. 110 +Thy sacred brethren, too, (for they, no less +Than laymen, bring their offerings to success) +Had hail'd thee good if great, and paid the vow +Sincere as that they pay to God, whilst thou +In lawn hadst whisper'd to a sleeping crowd, +As dull as Rochester[122], and half as proud. + Peace, Candour--wisely hadst thou said, and well, +Could Interest in this breast one moment dwell; +Could she, with prospect of success, oppose +The firm resolves which from conviction rose. 120 +I cannot truckle to a fool of state, +Nor take a favour from the man I hate: +Free leave have others by such means to shine; +I scorn their practice; they may laugh at mine. + But in this charge, forgetful of thyself, +Thou hast assumed the maxims of that elf, +Whom God in wrath, for man's dishonour framed, +Cunning in heaven, amongst us Prudence named, +That servile prudence, which I leave to those +Who dare not be my friends, can't be my foes. 130 + Had I, with cruel and oppressive rhymes, +Pursued and turn'd misfortunes into crimes; +Had I, when Virtue gasping lay and low, +Join'd tyrant Vice, and added woe to woe; +Had I made Modesty in blushes speak, +And drawn the tear down Beauty's sacred cheek; +Had I (damn'd then) in thought debased my lays, +To wound that sex which honour bids me praise; +Had I, from vengeance, by base views betray'd. +In endless night sunk injured Ayliffe's[123] shade; 140 +Had I (which satirists of mighty name[124], +Renown'd in rhyme, revered for moral fame, +Have done before, whom Justice shall pursue +In future verse) brought forth to public view +A noble friend, and made his foibles known, +Because his worth was greater than my own; +Had I spared those (so Prudence had decreed) +Whom, God so help me at my greatest need! +I ne'er will spare, those vipers to their king +Who smooth their looks, and flatter whilst they sting; 150 +Or had I not taught patriot zeal to boast +Of those who flatter least, but love him most; +Had I thus sinn'd, my stubborn soul should bend +At Candour's voice, and take, as from a friend, +The deep rebuke; myself should be the first +To hate myself, and stamp my Muse accursed. + But shall my arm--forbid it, manly pride! +Forbid it, reason! warring on my side-- +For vengeance lifted high, the stroke forbear, +And hang suspended in the desert air, 160 +Or to my trembling side unnerved sink down, +Palsied, forsooth, by Candour's half-made frown? +When Justice bids me on, shall I delay +Because insipid Candour bars my way? +When she, of all alike the puling friend, +Would disappoint my satire's noblest end; +When she to villains would a sanction give, +And shelter those who are not fit to live; +When she would screen the guilty from a blush, +And bids me spare whom Reason bids me crush, 170 +All leagues with Candour proudly I resign; +She cannot be for Honour's turn, nor mine. + Yet come, cold Monitor! half foe, half friend, +Whom Vice can't fear, whom Virtue can't commend; +Come, Candour, by thy dull indifference known, +Thou equal-blooded judge, thou lukewarm drone, +Who, fashion'd without feelings, dost expect +We call that virtue--which we know defect; +Come, and observe the nature of our crimes, +The gross and rank complexion of the times; 180 +Observe it well, and then review my plan, +Praise if you will, or censure if you can. + Whilst Vice presumptuous lords it as in sport, +And Piety is only known at court; +Whilst wretched Liberty expiring lies, +Beneath the fatal burthen of Excise; +Whilst nobles act, without one touch of shame, +What men of humble rank would blush to name; +Whilst Honour's placed in highest point of view, +Worshipp'd by those who Justice never knew; 190 +Whilst bubbles of distinction waste in play +The hours of rest, and blunder through the day; +With dice and cards opprobrious vigils keep, +Then turn to ruin empires in their sleep; +Whilst fathers[125], by relentless passion led, +Doom worthy injured sons to beg their bread, +Merely with ill-got, ill-saved, wealth to grace, +An alien, abject, poor, proud, upstart race! +Whilst Martin[126] flatters only to betray, +And Webb[127] gives up his dirty soul for pay, 200 +Whilst titles serve to hush a villain's fears; +Whilst peers are agents made, and agents peers; +Whilst base betrayers are themselves betray'd, +And makers ruin'd by the thing they made; +Whilst C----,[128] false to God and man, for gold, +Like the old traitor who a Saviour sold, +To shame his master, friend, and father gives; +Whilst Bute remains in power, whilst Holland lives;-- +Can Satire want a subject, where Disdain, +By Virtue fired, may point her sharpest strain, 210 +Where, clothed with thunder, Truth may roll along, +And Candour justify the rage of song? + Such things! such men before thee! such an age! +Where Rancour, great as thine, may glut her rage, +And sicken e'en to surfeit; where the pride +Of Satire, pouring down in fullest tide, +May spread wide vengeance round, yet all the while +Justice behold the ruin with a smile; +Whilst I, thy foe misdeem'd, cannot condemn, +Nor disapprove that rage I wish to stem, 220 +Wilt thou, degenerate and corrupted, choose +To soil the credit of thy haughty Muse? +With fallacy, most infamous, to stain +Her truth, and render all her anger vain? +When I beheld thee, incorrect, but bold, +A various comment on the stage unfold; +When players on players before thy satire fell, +And poor Reviews conspired thy wrath to swell; +When states and statesmen next became thy care, +And only kings were safe if thou wast there, 230 +Thy every word I weigh'd in judgment's scale, +And in thy every word found truth prevail; +Why dost thou now to falsehood meanly fly? +Not even Candour can forgive a lie. + Bad as men are, why should thy frantic rhymes +Traffic in slander, and invent new crimes?-- +Crimes which, existing only in thy mind, +Weak spleen brings forth to blacken all mankind. +By pleasing hopes we lure the human heart +To practise virtue and improve in art; 240 +To thwart these ends (which, proud of honest fame, +A noble Muse would cherish and inflame) +Thy drudge contrives, and in our full career +Sicklies our hopes with the pale hue of fear; +Tells us that all our labours are in vain; +That what we seek, we never can obtain; +That, dead to virtue, lost to Nature's plan, +Envy possesses the whole race of man; +That worth is criminal, and danger lies, +Danger extreme, in being good and wise. 250 + 'Tis a rank falsehood; search the world around, +There cannot be so vile a monster found, +Not one so vile, on whom suspicions fall +Of that gross guilt which you impute to all. +Approved by those who disobey her laws, +Virtue from Vice itself extorts applause: +Her very foes bear witness to her state; +They will not love her, but they cannot hate. +Hate Virtue for herself! with spite pursue +Merit for Merit's sake! might this be true, 260 +I would renounce my nature with disdain, +And with the beasts that perish graze the plain; +Might this be true,--had we so far fill'd up +The measure of our crimes, and from the cup +Of guilt so deeply drank, as not to find, +Thirsting for sin, one drop, one dreg behind; +Quick ruin must involve this flaming ball, +And Providence in justice crush us all. +None but the damn'd, and amongst them the worst, +Those who for double guilt are doubly cursed, 270 +Can be so lost; nor can the worst of all +At once into such deep damnation fall; +By painful slow degrees they reach this crime, +Which e'en in hell must be a work of time. +Cease, then, thy guilty rage, thou wayward son, +With the foul gall of Discontent o'errun; +List to my voice,--be honest, if you can, +Nor slander Nature in her favourite, man. +But if thy spirit, resolute in ill, +Once having err'd, persists in error still, 280 +Go on at large, no longer worth my care, +And freely vent those blasphemies in air, +Which I would stamp as false, though on the tongue +Of angels the injurious slander hung. + Duped by thy vanity (that cunning elf +Who snares the coxcomb to deceive himself), +Or blinded by thy rage, didst thou believe +That we too, coolly, would ourselves deceive? +That we, as sterling, falsehood would admit, +Because 'twas season'd with some little wit? 290 +When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, +Men will believe, because they love the lie; +But Truth herself, if clouded with a frown, +Must have some solemn proof to pass her down. +Hast thou, maintaining that which must disgrace +And bring into contempt the human race, +Hast thou, or canst thou, in Truth's sacred court, +To save thy credit, and thy cause support, +Produce one proof, make out one real ground, +On which so great, so gross a charge to found? 300 +Nay, dost thou know one man (let that appear, +From wilful falsehood I'll proclaim thee clear), +One man so lost, to nature so untrue, +From whom this general charge thy rashness drew? +On this foundation shalt thou stand or fall-- +Prove that in one which you have charged on all. +Reason determines, and it must be done; +'Mongst men, or past, or present, name me one. + Hogarth,--I take thee, Candour, at thy word, +Accept thy proffer'd terms, and will be heard; 310 +Thee have I heard with virulence declaim, +Nothing retain'd of Candour but the name; +By thee have I been charged in angry strains +With that mean falsehood which my soul disdains-- +Hogarth, stand forth;--Nay, hang not thus aloof-- +Now, Candour, now thou shalt receive such proof, +Such damning proof, that henceforth thou shalt fear +To tax my wrath, and own my conduct clear;-- +Hogarth, stand forth--I dare thee to be tried +In that great court where Conscience must preside; 320 +At that most solemn bar hold up thy hand; +Think before whom, on what account, you stand; +Speak, but consider well;--from first to last +Review thy life, weigh every action past; +Nay, you shall have no reason to complain-- +Take longer time, and view them o'er again. +Canst thou remember from thy earliest youth, +And as thy God must judge thee, speak the truth, +A single instance where, self laid aside, +And Justice taking place of Fear and Pride, 330 +Thou with an equal eye didst Genius view, +And give to Merit what was Merit's due? +Genius and Merit are a sure offence, +And thy soul sickens at the name of sense. +Is any one so foolish to succeed? +On Envy's altar he is doom'd to bleed. +Hogarth, a guilty pleasure in his eyes, +The place of executioner supplies: +See how he gloats, enjoys the sacred feast, +And proves himself by cruelty a priest! 340 + Whilst the weak artist, to thy whims a slave, +Would bury all those powers which Nature gave; +Would suffer blank concealment to obscure +Those rays thy jealousy could not endure; +To feed thy vanity would rust unknown, +And to secure thy credit, blast his own, +In Hogarth he was sure to find a friend; +He could not fear, and therefore might commend. +But when his spirit, roused by honest shame, +Shook off that lethargy, and soar'd to fame; 350 +When, with the pride of man, resolved and strong, +He scorn'd those fears which did his honour wrong, +And, on himself determined to rely, +Brought forth his labours to the public eye, +No friend in thee could such a rebel know; +He had desert, and Hogarth was his foe. + Souls of a timorous cast, of petty name +In Envy's court, not yet quite dead to shame, +May some remorse, some qualms of conscience feel, +And suffer honour to abate their zeal; 360 +But the man truly and completely great, +Allows no rule of action but his hate; +Through every bar he bravely breaks his way, +Passion his principle, and parts his prey. +Mediums in vice and virtue speak a mind +Within the pale of temperance confined; +The daring spirit scorns her narrow schemes, +And, good or bad, is always in extremes. + Man's practice duly weigh'd, through every age +On the same plan hath Envy form'd her rage, 370 +'Gainst those whom fortune hath our rivals made, +In way of science, and in way of trade: +Stung with mean jealousy she arms her spite, +First works, then views their ruin with delight. +Our Hogarth here a grand improver shines, +And nobly on the general plan refines; +He like himself o'erleaps the servile bound; +Worth is his mark, wherever worth is found. +Should painters only his vast wrath suffice? +Genius in every walk is lawful prize: 380 +'Tis a gross insult to his o'ergrown state; +His love to merit is to feel his hate. + When Wilkes, our countryman, our common friend, +Arose, his king, his country to defend; +When tools of power he bared to public view, +And from their holes the sneaking cowards drew; +When Rancour found it far beyond her reach +To soil his honour, and his truth impeach; +What could induce thee, at a time and place +Where manly foes had blush'd to show their face, 390 +To make that effort which must damn thy name, +And sink thee deep, deep in thy grave with shame? +Did virtue move thee? No; 'twas pride, rank pride, +And if thou hadst not done it, thou hadst died. +Malice (who, disappointed of her end, +Whether to work the bane of foe or friend, +Preys on herself, and, driven to the stake, +Gives Virtue that revenge she scorns to take) +Had kill'd thee, tottering on life's utmost verge, +Had Wilkes and Liberty escaped thy scourge. 400 + When that Great Charter, which our fathers bought +With their best blood, was into question brought; +When, big with ruin, o'er each English head +Vile Slavery hung suspended by a thread; +When Liberty, all trembling and aghast, +Fear'd for the future, knowing what was past; +When every breast was chill'd with deep despair, +Till Reason pointed out that Pratt[129] was there;-- +Lurking, most ruffian-like, behind the screen, +So placed all things to see, himself unseen, 410 +Virtue, with due contempt, saw Hogarth stand, +The murderous pencil in his palsied hand. +What was the cause of Liberty to him, +Or what was Honour? let them sink or swim, +So he may gratify, without control, +The mean resentments of his selfish soul; +Let Freedom perish, if, to Freedom true, +In the same ruin Wilkes may perish too. + With all the symptoms of assured decay, +With age and sickness pinch'd and worn away, 420 +Pale quivering lips, lank cheeks, and faltering tongue, +The spirits out of tune, the nerves unstrung, +Thy body shrivell'd up, thy dim eyes sunk +Within their sockets deep, thy weak hams shrunk, +The body's weight unable to sustain, +The stream of life scarce trembling through the vein, +More than half kill'd by honest truths which fell, +Through thy own fault, from men who wish'd thee well-- +Canst thou, e'en thus, thy thoughts to vengeance give, +And, dead to all things else, to malice live? 430 +Hence, dotard, to thy closet; shut thee in; +By deep repentance wash away thy sin; +From haunts of men to shame and sorrow fly, +And, on the verge of death, learn how to die! + Vain exhortation! wash the Ethiop white, +Discharge the leopard's spots, turn day to night, +Control the course of Nature, bid the deep +Hush at thy pigmy voice her waves to sleep-- +Perform things passing strange, yet own thy art +Too weak to work a change in such a heart; 440 +That Envy, which was woven in the frame +At first, will to the last remain the same. +Reason may droop, may die; but Envy's rage +Improves by time, and gathers strength from age. +Some, and not few, vain triflers with the pen, +Unread, unpractised in the ways of men, +Tell us that Envy, who, with giant stride, +Stalks through the vale of life by Virtue's side, +Retreats when she hath drawn her latest breath, +And calmly hears her praises after death. 450 +To such observers Hogarth gives the lie; +Worth may be hearsed, but Envy cannot die; +Within the mansion of his gloomy breast, +A mansion suited well to such a guest, +Immortal, unimpair'd, she rears her head, +And damns alike the living and the dead. + Oft have I known thee, Hogarth, weak and vain, +Thyself the idol of thy awkward strain, +Through the dull measure of a summer's day, +In phrase most vile, prate long, long hours away, 460 +Whilst friends with friends, all gaping sit, and gaze, +To hear a Hogarth babble Hogarth's praise. +But if athwart thee Interruption came, +And mention'd with respect some ancient's name, +Some ancient's name who, in the days of yore, +The crown of Art with greatest honour wore, +How have I seen thy coward cheek turn pale, +And blank confusion seize thy mangled tale! +How hath thy jealousy to madness grown, +And deem'd his praise injurious to thy own! 470 +Then without mercy did thy wrath make way, +And arts and artists all became thy prey; +Then didst thou trample on establish'd rules, +And proudly levell'd all the ancient schools; +Condemn'd those works, with praise through ages graced, +Which you had never seen, or could not taste; +But would mankind have true perfection shown, +It must be found in labours of my own: +I dare to challenge, in one single piece, +The united force of Italy and Greece. 480 +Thy eager hand the curtain then undrew, +And brought the boasted masterpiece to view. +Spare thy remarks--say not a single word-- +The picture seen, why is the painter heard? +Call not up shame and anger in our cheeks; +Without a comment Sigismunda[130] speaks. + Poor Sigismunda! what a fate is thine! +Dryden, the great high-priest of all the Nine, +Revived thy name, gave what a Muse could give, +And in his numbers bade thy memory live; 490 +Gave thee those soft sensations which might move +And warm the coldest anchorite to love; +Gave thee that virtue, which could curb desire, +Refine and consecrate love's headstrong fire; +Gave thee those griefs, which made the Stoic feel, +And call'd compassion forth from hearts of steel; +Gave thee that firmness, which our sex may shame, +And make man bow to woman's juster claim; +So that our tears, which from compassion flow, +Seem to debase thy dignity of woe. 500 +But, oh, how much unlike! how fallen! how changed! +How much from Nature and herself estranged! +How totally deprived of all the powers +To show her feelings, and awaken ours, +Doth Sigismunda now devoted stand, +The helpless victim of a dauber's hand! + But why, my Hogarth, such a progress made, +So rare a pattern for the sign-post trade, +In the full force and whirlwind of thy pride, +Why was heroic painting laid aside? 510 +Why is it not resumed? thy friends at court, +Men all in place and power, crave thy support; +Be grateful then for once, and through the field +Of politics thy epic pencil wield; +Maintain the cause, which they, good lack! avow, +And would maintain too, but they know not how. + Through every pannel let thy virtue tell +How Bute prevail'd, how Pitt and Temple fell; +How England's sons (whom they conspired to bless. +Against our will, with insolent success) 520 +Approve their fall, and with addresses run-- +How got, God knows--to hail the Scottish sun;[131] +Point out our fame in war, when vengeance, hurl'd +From the strong arm of Justice, shook the world; +Thine, and thy country's honour to increase, +Point out the honours of succeeding peace; +Our moderation, Christian-like, display, +Show what we got, and what we gave away; +In colours, dull and heavy as the tale, +Let a state-chaos through the whole prevail. 530 + But, of events regardless, whilst the Muse, +Perhaps with too much heat, her theme pursues; +Whilst her quick spirits rouse at Freedom's call, +And every drop of blood is turn'd to gall; +Whilst a dear country, and an injured friend, +Urge my strong anger to the bitterest end; +Whilst honest trophies to Revenge are raised, +Let not one real virtue pass unpraised; +Justice with equal course bids Satire flow, +And loves the virtue of her greatest foe. 540 + Oh! that I here could that rare virtue mean, +Which scorns the rule of envy, pride, and spleen, +Which springs not from the labour'd works of art, +But hath its rise from Nature in the heart; +Which in itself with happiness is crown'd, +And spreads with joy the blessing all around! +But truth forbids, and in these simple lays, +Contented with a different kind of praise, +Must Hogarth stand; that praise which Genius gives, +In which to latest time the artist lives, 550 +But not the man; which, rightly understood, +May make us great, but cannot make us good: +That praise be Hogarth's; freely let him wear +The wreath which Genius wove, and planted there: +Foe as I am, should Envy tear it down, +Myself would labour to replace the crown. + In walks of humour, in that cast of style, +Which, probing to the quick, yet makes us smile; +In comedy, his natural road to fame,-- +Nor let me call it by a meaner name, 560 +Where a beginning, middle, and an end, +Are aptly join'd; where parts on parts depend, +Each made for each, as bodies for their soul, +So as to form one true and perfect whole; +Where a plain story to the eye is told, +Which we conceive the moment we behold,-- +Hogarth unrivall'd stands, and shall engage +Unrivall'd praise to the most distant age. + How couldst thou, then, to shame perversely run, +And tread that path which Nature bade thee shun? 570 +Why did ambition overleap her rules, +And thy vast parts become the sport of fools? +By different methods different men excel; +But where is he who can do all things well? +Humour thy province, for some monstrous crime +Pride struck thee with the frenzy of sublime; +But, when the work was finish'd, could thy mind +So partial be, and to herself so blind, +What with contempt all view'd, to view with awe, +Nor see those faults which every blockhead saw? 580 +Blush, thou vain man! and if desire of fame, +Founded on real art, thy thoughts inflame, +To quick destruction Sigismunda give, +And let her memory die, that thine may live. + But should fond Candour, for her mercy sake, +With pity view, and pardon this mistake; +Or should Oblivion, to thy wish most kind, +Wipe off that stain, nor leave one trace behind; +Of arts despised, of artists, by thy frown +Awed from just hopes, of rising worth kept down, 590 +Of all thy meanness through this mortal race, +Canst thou the living memory erase? +Or shall not vengeance follow to the grave, +And give back just that measure which you gave? +With so much merit, and so much success, +With so much power to curse, so much to bless, +Would he have been man's friend, instead of foe, +Hogarth had been a little god below. +Why, then, like savage giants, famed of old, +Of whom in Scripture story we are told, 600 +Dost thou in cruelty that strength employ, +Which Nature meant to save, not to destroy? +Why dost thou, all in horrid pomp array'd, +Sit grinning o'er the ruins thou hast made? +Most rank ill-nature must applaud thy art, +But even Candour must condemn thy heart. + For me, who, warm and zealous for my friend, +In spite of railing thousands, will commend; +And no less warm and zealous 'gainst my foes, +Spite of commending thousands, will oppose, 610 +I dare thy worst, with scorn behold thy rage, +But with an eye of pity view thy age; +Thy feeble age, in which, as in a glass, +We see how men to dissolution pass. +Thou wretched being, whom, on Reason's plan, +So changed, so lost, I cannot call a man, +What could persuade thee, at this time of life, +To launch afresh into the sea of strife? +Better for thee, scarce crawling on the earth, +Almost as much a child as at thy birth, 620 +To have resign'd in peace thy parting breath, +And sunk unnoticed in the arms of Death. +Why would thy gray, gray hairs resentment brave, +Thus to go down with sorrow to the grave? +Now, by my soul! it makes me blush to know, +My spirit could descend to such a foe: +Whatever cause the vengeance might provoke, +It seems rank cowardice to give the stroke. + Sure 'tis a curse which angry fates impose, +To mortify man's arrogance, that those 630 +Who're fashion'd of some better sort of clay, +Much sooner than the common herd decay. +What bitter pangs must humbled Genius feel, +In their last hours to view a Swift and Steele! +How must ill-boding horrors fill her breast, +When she beholds men mark'd above the rest +For qualities most dear, plunged from that height, +And sunk, deep sunk, in second childhood's night! +Are men, indeed, such things? and are the best +More subject to this evil than the rest, 640 +To drivel out whole years of idiot breath, +And sit the monuments of living death? +Oh, galling circumstance to human pride! +Abasing thought, but not to be denied! +With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, +Preys on herself, and is destroy'd by thought. +Constant attention wears the active mind, +Blots out her powers, and leaves a blank behind. +But let not youth, to insolence allied, +In heat of blood, in full career of pride, 650 +Possess'd of genius, with unhallow'd rage +Mock the infirmities of reverend age: +The greatest genius to this fate may bow; +Reynolds, in time, may be like Hogarth now. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [117] For occasion of this poem, see Life. + + [118] 'Fox:' Henry Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, supposed not to be + over-honest. + + [119] 'Dashwood:' Sir Francis Dashwood, generally thought a bigoted and + stupid Tory. + + [120] 'Norton:' Sir Fletcher Norton, Attorney-General from 1763 to + 1765, created a peer in 1782 by the title of Lord Grantley. + + [121] 'Mansfield:' the celebrated Murray, Lord Mansfield. See Junius. + + [122] 'Rochester:' Pearce, Bishop of Rochester, mentioned above as a + foe to Churchill. + + [123] 'Ayliffe:' a forger of the period, said to have been ill-used by + Lord Holland. Churchill intended to write a poem, entitled, 'Ayliffe's + Ghost,' but did not live to accomplish his intention. + + [124] 'Mighty name:' Pope, referring to his famous attack on Addison. + + [125] 'Fathers:' Thomas Potter, Esq., a man of splendid abilities, was + disinherited by his father, the Archbishop of Canterbury, on account of + his dissolute life. + + [126] 'Martin:' Samuel Martin, Esq., F.R.S., M.P. for Camelford; the + hero of 'The Duellist.' + + [127] 'Webb:' Philip Carteret Webb. Esq., Solicitor to the Treasury. + + [128] 'C----:' name not known. + + [129] 'Pratt:' Charles Pratt, Earl Camden, Chief-Justice of the Common + Pleas, friendly to Wilkes. See Junius. + + [130] 'Sigismunda;' a detestable miscreation of Hogarth's pencil, + admired by none but himself. + + [131] 'The Scottish sun:' The addresses to the King which followed the + parliamentary approbation of the preliminary articles of peace in 1763, + were obtained by means equally dishonourable and corrupt. + + + + +THE DUELLIST.[132] + +In Three Books. + + +BOOK I. + + +The clock struck twelve; o'er half the globe +Darkness had spread her pitchy robe: +Morpheus, his feet with velvet shod, +Treading as if in fear he trod, +Gentle as dews at even-tide, +Distill'd his poppies far and wide. + Ambition, who, when waking, dreams +Of mighty, but fantastic schemes, +Who, when asleep, ne'er knows that rest +With which the humbler soul is blest, 10 +Was building castles in the air, +Goodly to look upon, and fair, +But on a bad foundation laid, +Doom'd at return of morn to fade. + Pale Study, by the taper's light, +Wearing away the watch of night, +Sat reading; but, with o'ercharged head, +Remember'd nothing that he read. + Starving 'midst plenty, with a face +Which might the court of Famine grace, 20 +Ragged, and filthy to behold, +Gray Avarice nodded o'er his gold. + Jealousy, his quick eye half-closed, +With watchings worn, reluctant dozed; +And, mean Distrust not quite forgot, +Slumber'd as if he slumber'd not. + Stretch'd at his length on the bare ground, +His hardy offspring sleeping round, +Snored restless Labour; by his side +Lay Health, a coarse but comely bride. 30 + Virtue, without the doctor's aid, +In the soft arms of Sleep was laid; +Whilst Vice, within the guilty breast, +Could not be physic'd into rest. + Thou bloody man! whose ruffian knife +Is drawn against thy neighbour's life, +And never scruples to descend +Into the bosom of a friend; +A firm, fast friend, by vice allied, +And to thy secret service tied, 40 +In whom ten murders breed no awe, +If properly secured from law: +Thou man of lust! whom passion fires +To foulest deeds, whose hot desires +O'er honest bars with ease make way, +Whilst idiot beauty falls a prey, +And to indulge thy brutal flame +A Lucrece must be brought to shame; +Who dost, a brave, bold sinner, bear +Rank incest to the open air, 50 +And rapes, full blown upon thy crown, +Enough to weigh a nation down: +Thou simular of lust! vain man, +Whose restless thoughts still form the plan +Of guilt, which, wither'd to the root, +Thy lifeless nerves can't execute, +Whilst in thy marrowless, dry bones +Desire without enjoyment groans: +Thou perjured wretch! whom falsehood clothes +E'en like a garment; who with oaths 60 +Dost trifle, as with brokers, meant +To serve thy every vile intent, +In the day's broad and searching eye +Making God witness to a lie, +Blaspheming heaven and earth for pelf, +And hanging friends[133] to save thyself: +Thou son of Chance! whose glorious soul +On the four aces doom'd to roll, +Was never yet with Honour caught, +Nor on poor Virtue lost one thought; 70 +Who dost thy wife, thy children set, +Thy all, upon a single bet, +Risking, the desperate stake to try, +Here and hereafter on a die; +Who, thy own private fortune lost, +Dost game on at thy country's cost, +And, grown expert in sharping rules, +First fool'd thyself, now prey'st on fools: +Thou noble gamester! whose high place +Gives too much credit to disgrace; 80 +Who, with the motion of a die, +Dost make a mighty island fly-- +The sums, I mean, of good French gold +For which a mighty island sold; +Who dost betray intelligence, +Abuse the dearest confidence, +And, private fortune to create, +Most falsely play the game of state; +Who dost within the Alley sport +Sums which might beggar a whole court, 90 +And make us bankrupts all, if Care, +With good Earl Talbot,[134] was not there: +Thou daring infidel! whom pride +And sin have drawn from Reason's side; +Who, fearing his avengeful rod, +Dost wish not to believe a God; +Whose hope is founded on a plan +Which should distract the soul of man, +And make him curse his abject birth; +Whose hope is, once return'd to earth, 100 +There to lie down, for worms a feast, +To rot and perish like a beast; +Who dost, of punishment afraid, +And by thy crimes a coward made, +To every generous soul a curse +Than Hell and all her torments worse, +When crawling to thy latter end, +Call on Destruction as a friend, +Choosing to crumble into dust +Rather than rise, though rise you must: 110 +Thou hypocrite! who dost profane, +And take the patriot's name in vain; +Then most thy country's foe, when most +Of love and loyalty you boast; +Who, for the love of filthy gold, +Thy friend, thy king, thy God hast sold, +And, mocking the just claim of Hell, +Were bidders found, thyself wouldst sell: +Ye villains! of whatever name, +Whatever rank, to whom the claim 120 +Of Hell is certain, on whose lids +That worm, which never dies, forbids +Sweet sleep to fall, come, and behold, +Whilst envy makes your blood run cold, +Behold, by pitiless Conscience led, +So Justice wills, that holy bed +Where Peace her full dominion keeps, +And Innocence with Holland sleeps. + Bid Terror, posting on the wind, +Affray the spirits of mankind; 130 +Bid Earthquakes, heaving for a vent, +Rive their concealing continent, +And, forcing an untimely birth +Through the vast bowels of the earth, +Endeavour, in her monstrous womb, +At once all Nature to entomb; +Bid all that's horrible and dire, +All that man hates and fears, conspire +To make night hideous as they can, +Still is thy sleep, thou virtuous man! 140 +Pure as the thoughts which in thy breast +Inhabit, and insure thy rest; +Still shall thy Ayliffe, taught, though late, +Thy friendly justice in his fate, +Turn'd to a guardian angel, spread +Sweet dreams of comfort round thy head. + Dark was the night, by Fate decreed +For the contrivance of a deed +More black than common, which might make +This land from her foundations shake, 150 +Might tear up Freedom by the root, +Destroy a Wilkes, and fix a Bute. +Deep Horror held her wide domain; +The sky in sullen drops of rain +Forewept the morn, and through the air, +Which, opening, laid its bosom bare, +Loud thunders roll'd, and lightning stream'd; +The owl at Freedom's window scream'd, +The screech-owl, prophet dire, whose breath +Brings sickness, and whose note is death; 160 +The churchyard teem'd, and from the tomb, +All sad and silent, through the gloom +The ghosts of men, in former times, +Whose public virtues were their crimes, +Indignant stalk'd; sorrow and rage +Blank'd their pale cheeks; in his own age +The prop of Freedom, Hampden there +Felt after death the generous care; +Sidney by grief from heaven was kept, +And for his brother patriot wept: 170 +All friends of Liberty, when Fate +Prepared to shorten Wilkes's date, +Heaved, deeply hurt, the heartfelt groan, +And knew that wound to be their own. + Hail, Liberty! a glorious word, +In other countries scarcely heard, +Or heard but as a thing of course, +Without, or energy, or force: +Here felt, enjoy'd, adored, she springs, +Far, far beyond the reach of kings, 180 +Fresh blooming from our mother Earth: +With pride and joy she owns her birth +Derived from us, and in return +Bids in our breasts her genius burn; +Bids us with all those blessings live +Which Liberty alone can give, +Or nobly with that spirit die +Which makes death more than victory. + Hail, those old patriots! on whose tongue +Persuasion in the senate hung, 190 +Whilst they the sacred cause maintain'd. +Hail, those old chiefs! to honour train'd, +Who spread, when other methods fail'd, +War's bloody banner, and prevail'd. +Shall men like these unmention'd sleep +Promiscuous with the common heap, +And (Gratitude forbid the crime!) +Be carried down the stream of time +In shoals, unnoticed and forgot, +On Lethe's stream, like flags, to rot? 200 +No--they shall live, and each fair name, +Recorded in the book of Fame, +Founded on Honour's basis, fast +As the round earth to ages last. +Some virtues vanish with our breath; +Virtue like this lives after death. +Old Time himself, his scythe thrown by, +Himself lost in eternity, +An everlasting crown shall twine +To make a Wilkes and Sidney join. 210 + But should some slave-got villain dare +Chains for his country to prepare, +And, by his birth to slavery broke, +Make her, too, feel the galling yoke, +May he be evermore accursed, +Amongst bad men be rank'd the worst; +May he be still himself, and still +Go on in vice, and perfect ill; +May his broad crimes each day increase, +Till he can't live, nor die in peace; 220 +May he be plunged so deep in shame, +That Satan mayn't endure his name, +And hear, scarce crawling on the earth, +His children curse him for their birth; +May Liberty, beyond the grave, +Ordain him to be still a slave, +Grant him what here he most requires, +And damn him with his own desires! + But should some villain, in support +And zeal for a despairing court, 230 +Placing in craft his confidence, +And making honour a pretence +To do a deed of deepest shame, +Whilst filthy lucre is his aim; +Should such a wretch, with sword or knife, +Contrive to practise 'gainst the life +Of one who, honour'd through the land, +For Freedom made a glorious stand; +Whose chief, perhaps his only crime, +Is (if plain Truth at such a time 240 +May dare her sentiments to tell) +That he his country loves too well: +May he--but words are all too weak +The feelings of my heart to speak-- +May he--oh for a noble curse, +Which might his very marrow pierce!-- +The general contempt engage, +And be the Martin of his age! + + +BOOK II. + + +Deep in the bosom of a wood, +Out of the road, a Temple[135] stood: +Ancient, and much the worse for wear, +It call'd aloud for quick repair, +And, tottering from side to side, +Menaced destruction far and wide; +Nor able seem'd, unless made stronger, +To hold out four or five years longer. +Four hundred pillars, from the ground +Rising in order, most unsound, 10 +Some rotten to the heart, aloof +Seem'd to support the tottering roof, +But, to inspection nearer laid, +Instead of giving, wanted aid. + The structure, rare and curious, made +By men most famous in their trade, +A work of years, admired by all, +Was suffer'd into dust to fall; +Or, just to make it hang together, +And keep off the effects of weather, 20 +Was patch'd and patch'd from time to time +By wretches, whom it were a crime, +A crime, which Art would treason hold +To mention with those names of old. + Builders, who had the pile survey'd, +And those not Flitcrofts[136] in their trade, +Doubted (the wise hand in a doubt +Merely, sometimes, to hand her out) +Whether (like churches in a brief[137], +Taught wisely to obtain relief 30 +Through Chancery, who gives her fees +To this and other charities) +It must not, in all parts unsound, +Be ripp'd, and pull'd down to the ground; +Whether (though after ages ne'er +Shall raise a building to compare) +Art, if they should their art employ, +Meant to preserve, might not destroy; +As human bodies, worn away, +Batter'd and hasting to decay, 40 +Bidding the power of Art despair, +Cannot those very medicines bear, +Which, and which only, can restore, +And make them healthy as before. + To Liberty, whose gracious smile +Shed peace and plenty o'er the isle, +Our grateful ancestors, her plain +But faithful children, raised this fane. + Full in the front, stretch'd out in length, +Where Nature put forth all her strength 50 +In spring eternal, lay a plain +Where our brave fathers used to train +Their sons to arms, to teach the art +Of war, and steel the infant heart. +Labour, their hardy nurse, when young, +Their joints had knit, their nerves had strung; +Abstinence, foe declared to Death, +Had, from the time they first drew breath, +The best of doctors, with plain food, +Kept pure the channel of their blood; 60 +Health in their cheeks bade colour rise, +And Glory sparkled in their eyes. + The instruments of husbandry, +As in contempt, were all thrown by, +And, flattering a manly pride, +War's keener tools their place supplied. +Their arrows to the head they drew; +Swift to the points their javelins flew; +They grasp'd the sword, they shook the spear; +Their fathers felt a pleasing fear; 70 +And even Courage, standing by, +Scarcely beheld with steady eye. +Each stripling, lesson'd by his sire, +Knew when to close, when to retire, +When near at hand, when from afar +To fight, and was himself a war. + Their wives, their mothers, all around, +Careless of order, on the ground +Breathed forth to Heaven the pious vow, +And for a son's or husband's brow, 80 +With eager fingers, laurel wove; +Laurel, which in the sacred grove, +Planted by Liberty, they find, +The brows of conquerors to bind, +To give them pride and spirit, fit +To make a world in arms submit. + What raptures did the bosom fire +Of the young, rugged, peasant sire, +When, from the toil of mimic fight, +Returning with return of night, 90 +He saw his babe resign the breast, +And, smiling, stroke those arms in jest, +With which hereafter he shall make +The proudest heart in Gallia quake! + Gods! with what joy, what honest pride, +Did each fond, wishing rustic bride +Behold her manly swain return! +How did her love-sick bosom burn, +Though on parades he was not bred, +Nor wore the livery of red, 100 +When, Pleasure heightening all her charms, +She strain'd her warrior in her arms, +And begg'd, whilst love and glory fire, +A son, a son just like his sire! + Such were the men in former times, +Ere luxury had made our crimes +Our bitter punishment, who bore +Their terrors to a foreign shore: +Such were the men, who, free from dread, +By Edwards and by Henries led, 110 +Spread, like a torrent swell'd with rains, +O'er haughty Gallia's trembling plains: +Such were the men, when lust of power, +To work him woe, in evil hour +Debauch'd the tyrant from those ways +On which a king should found his praise; +When stern Oppression, hand in hand +With Pride, stalk'd proudly through the land; +When weeping Justice was misled +From her fair course, and Mercy dead: 120 +Such were the men, in virtue strong, +Who dared not see their country's wrong, +Who left the mattock and the spade, +And, in the robes of War array'd, +In their rough arms, departing, took +Their helpless babes, and with a look +Stern and determined, swore to see +Those babes no more, or see them free: +Such were the men whom tyrant Pride +Could never fasten to his side 130 +By threats or bribes; who, freemen born, +Chains, though of gold, beheld with scorn; +Who, free from every servile awe, +Could never be divorced from Law, +From that broad general law, which Sense +Made for the general defence; +Could never yield to partial ties +Which from dependant stations rise; +Could never be to slavery led, +For Property was at their head: 140 +Such were the men, in days of yore, +Who, call'd by Liberty, before +Her temple on the sacred green, +In martial pastimes oft were seen-- +Now seen no longer--in their stead, +To laziness and vermin bred, +A race who, strangers to the cause +Of Freedom, live by other laws, +On other motives fight, a prey +To interest, and slaves for pay. 150 +Valour--how glorious, on a plan +Of honour founded!--leads their van; +Discretion, free from taint of fear, +Cool, but resolved, brings up their rear-- +Discretion, Valour's better half; +Dependence holds the general's staff. + In plain and home-spun garb array'd, +Not for vain show, but service made, +In a green flourishing old age, +Not damn'd yet with an equipage, 160 +In rules of Porterage untaught, +Simplicity, not worth a groat, +For years had kept the Temple-door; +Full on his breast a glass he wore, +Through which his bosom open lay +To every one who pass'd that way: +Now turn'd adrift, with humbler face, +But prouder heart, his vacant place +Corruption fills, and bears the key; +No entrance now without a fee. 170 + With belly round, and full fat face, +Which on the house reflected grace, +Full of good fare, and honest glee, +The steward Hospitality, +Old Welcome smiling by his side, +A good old servant, often tried, +And faithful found, who kept in view +His lady's fame and interest too, +Who made each heart with joy rebound, +Yet never ran her state aground, 180 +Was turn'd off, or (which word I find +Is more in modern use) resign'd.[138] + Half-starved, half-starving others, bred +In beggary, with carrion fed, +Detested, and detesting all, +Made up of avarice and gall, +Boasting great thrift, yet wasting more +Than ever steward did before, +Succeeded one, who, to engage +The praise of an exhausted age, 190 +Assumed a name of high degree, +And call'd himself Economy. + Within the Temple, full in sight, +Where, without ceasing, day and night +The workmen toiled; where Labour bared +His brawny arm; where Art prepared, +In regular and even rows, +Her types, a printing-press arose; +Each workman knew his task, and each +Was honest and expert as Leach.[139] 200 + Hence Learning struck a deeper root, +And Science brought forth riper fruit; +Hence Loyalty received support, +Even when banish'd from the court; +Hence Government gain'd strength, and hence +Religion sought and found defence; +Hence England's fairest fame arose, +And Liberty subdued her foes. + On a low, simple, turf-made throne, +Raised by Allegiance, scarcely known 210 +From her attendants, glad to be +Pattern of that equality +She wish'd to all, so far as could +Safely consist with social good, +The goddess sat; around her head +A cheerful radiance Glory spread: +Courage, a youth of royal race, +Lovelily stern, possess'd a place +On her left hand, and on her right +Sat Honour, clothed with robes of light; 220 +Before her Magna Charta lay, +Which some great lawyer, of his day +The Pratt,[140] was officed to explain, +And make the basis of her reign: +Peace, crown'd with olive, to her breast +Two smiling twin-born infants press'd; +At her feet, couching, War was laid, +And with a brindled lion play'd: +Justice and Mercy, hand in hand, 230 +Joint guardians of the happy land, +Together held their mighty charge, +And Truth walk'd all about at large; +Health for the royal troop the feast +Prepared, and Virtue was high-priest. + Such was the fame our Goddess bore +Her Temple such, in days of yore. +What changes ruthless Time presents! +Behold her ruin'd battlements, +Her walls decay'd, her nodding spires, +Her altars broke, her dying fires, 240 +Her name despised, her priests destroy'd, +Her friends disgraced, her foes employ'd, +Herself (by ministerial arts +Deprived e'en of the people's hearts, +Whilst they, to work her surer woe, +Feign her to Monarchy a foe) +Exiled by grief, self-doom'd to dwell +With some poor hermit in a cell; +Or, that retirement tedious grown, +If she walks forth, she walks unknown, 250 +Hooted, and pointed at with scorn, +As one in some strange country born. + Behold a rude and ruffian race, +A band of spoilers, seize her place; +With looks which might the heart disseat, +And make life sound a quick retreat! +To rapine from the cradle bred, +A staunch old blood-hound at their head, +Who, free from virtue and from awe, +Knew none but the bad part of law, 260 +They roved at large; each on his breast +Mark'd with a greyhound stood confess'd: +Controlment waited on their nod, +High-wielding Persecution's rod; +Confusion follow'd at their heels, +And a cast statesman held the seals;[141] +Those seals, for which he dear shall pay, +When awful Justice takes her day. + The printers saw--they saw and fled-- +Science, declining, hung her head. 270 +Property in despair appear'd, +And for herself destruction fear'd; +Whilst underfoot the rude slaves trod +The works of men, and word of God; +Whilst, close behind, on many a book, +In which he never deigns to look, +Which he did not, nay, could not read, +A bold, bad man (by power decreed +For that bad end, who in the dark +Scorn'd to do mischief) set his mark 280 +In the full day, the mark of Hell, +And on the Gospel stamp'd an L. + Liberty fled, her friends withdrew-- +Her friends, a faithful, chosen few; +Honour in grief threw up; and Shame, +Clothing herself with Honour's name, +Usurp'd his station; on the throne +Which Liberty once call'd her own, +(Gods! that such mighty ills should spring +Under so great, so good a king, 290 +So loved, so loving, through the arts +Of statesmen, cursed with wicked hearts!) +For every darker purpose fit, +Behold in triumph State-craft sit! + + +BOOK III. + + +Ah me! what mighty perils wait +The man who meddles with a state, +Whether to strengthen, or oppose! +False are his friends, and firm his foes: +How must his soul, once ventured in, +Plunge blindly on from sin to sin! +What toils he suffers, what disgrace, +To get, and then to keep, a place! +How often, whether wrong or right, +Must he in jest or earnest fight, 10 +Risking for those both life and limb +Who would not risk one groat for him! + Under the Temple lay a Cave, +Made by some guilty, coward slave, +Whose actions fear'd rebuke: a maze +Of intricate and winding ways, +Not to be found without a clue; +One passage only, known to few, +In paths direct led to a cell, +Where Fraud in secret loved to dwell, 20 +With all her tools and slaves about her, +Nor fear'd lest Honesty should rout her. + In a dark corner, shunning sight +Of man, and shrinking from the light, +One dull, dim taper through the cell +Glimmering, to make more horrible +The face of darkness, she prepares, +Working unseen, all kinds of snares, +With curious, but destructive art: +Here, through the eye to catch the heart, 30 +Gay stars their tinsel beams afford, +Neat artifice to trap a lord; +There, fit for all whom Folly bred, +Wave plumes of feathers for the head; +Garters the hag contrives to make, +Which, as it seems, a babe might break, +But which ambitious madmen feel +More firm and sure than chains of steel; +Which, slipp'd just underneath the knee, 40 +Forbid a freeman to be free. +Purses she knew, (did ever curse +Travel more sure than in a purse?) +Which, by some strange and magic bands, +Enslave the soul, and tie the hands. + Here Flattery, eldest-born of Guile, +Weaves with rare skill the silken smile, +The courtly cringe, the supple bow, +The private squeeze, the levee vow, +With which--no strange or recent case-- +Fools in, deceive fools out of place. 50 + Corruption, (who, in former times, +Through fear or shame conceal'd her crimes, +And what she did, contrived to do it +So that the public might not view it) +Presumptuous grown, unfit was held +For their dark councils, and expell'd, +Since in the day her business might +Be done as safe as in the night. + Her eye down-bending to the ground, +Planning some dark and deadly wound, 60 +Holding a dagger, on which stood, +All fresh and reeking, drops of blood, +Bearing a lantern, which of yore, +By Treason borrow'd, Guy Fawkes bore, +By which, since they improved in trade, +Excisemen have their lanterns made, +Assassination, her whole mind +Blood-thirsting, on her arm reclined; +Death, grinning, at her elbow stood, +And held forth instruments of blood,-- 70 +Vile instruments, which cowards choose, +But men of honour dare not use; +Around, his Lordship and his Grace, +Both qualified for such a place, +With many a Forbes, and many a Dun,[142] +Each a resolved, and pious son, +Wait her high bidding; each prepared, +As she around her orders shared, +Proof 'gainst remorse, to run, to fly, +And bid the destined victim die, 80 +Posting on Villany's black wing, +Whether he patriot is, or king. + Oppression,--willing to appear +An object of our love, not fear, +Or, at the most, a reverend awe +To breed, usurp'd the garb of Law. +A book she held, on which her eyes +Were deeply fix'd, whence seem'd to rise +Joy in her breast; a book, of might +Most wonderful, which black to white 90 +Could turn, and without help of laws, +Could make the worse the better cause. +She read, by flattering hopes deceived; +She wish'd, and what she wish'd, believed, +To make that book for ever stand +The rule of wrong through all the land; +On the back, fair and worthy note, +At large was Magna Charta wrote; +But turn your eye within, and read, +A bitter lesson, Norton's Creed. 100 +Ready, e'en with a look, to run, +Fast as the coursers of the sun, +To worry Virtue, at her hand +Two half-starved greyhounds took their stand. +A curious model, cut in wood, +Of a most ancient castle stood +Full in her view; the gates were barr'd, +And soldiers on the watch kept guard; +In the front, openly, in black +Was wrote, The Tower: but on the back, 110 +Mark'd with a secretary's seal, +In bloody letters, The Bastile.[143] + Around a table, fully bent +On mischief of most black intent, +Deeply determined that their reign +Might longer last, to work the bane +Of one firm patriot, whose heart, tied +To Honour, all their power defied, +And brought those actions into light +They wish'd to have conceal'd in night, 120 +Begot, born, bred to infamy, +A privy-council sat of three: +Great were their names, of high repute +And favour through the land of Bute. + The first[144] (entitled to the place +Of Honour both by gown and grace, +Who never let occasion slip +To take right-hand of fellowship, +And was so proud, that should he meet +The twelve apostles in the street, 130 +He'd turn his nose up at them all, +And shove his Saviour from the wall! +Who was so mean (Meanness and Pride +Still go together side by side) +That he would cringe, and creep, be civil, +And hold a stirrup for the Devil; +If in a journey to his mind, +He'd let him mount and ride behind; +Who basely fawn'd through all his life, +For patrons first, then for a wife: 140 +Wrote Dedications which must make +The heart of every Christian quake; +Made one man equal to, or more +Than God, then left him, as before +His God he left, and, drawn by pride, +Shifted about to t' other side) +Was by his sire a parson made, +Merely to give the boy a trade; +But he himself was thereto drawn +By some faint omens of the lawn, 150 +And on the truly Christian plan +To make himself a gentleman,-- +A title in which Form array'd him, +Though Fate ne'er thought on 't when she made him. + The oaths he took, 'tis very true, +But took them as all wise men do, +With an intent, if things should turn, +Rather to temporise, than burn; +Gospel and loyalty were made +To serve the purposes of trade; 160 +Religions are but paper ties, +Which bind the fool, but which the wise, +Such idle notions far above, +Draw on and off, just like a glove; +All gods, all kings (let his great aim +Be answer'd) were to him the same. + A curate first, he read and read, +And laid in, whilst he should have fed +The souls of his neglected flock, +Of reading such a mighty stock, 170 +That he o'ercharged the weary brain +With more than she could well contain; +More than she was with spirits fraught +To turn and methodise to thought, +And which, like ill-digested food, +To humours turn'd, and not to blood. +Brought up to London, from the plough +And pulpit, how to make a bow +He tried to learn; he grew polite, +And was the poet's parasite. 180 +With wits conversing, (and wits then +Were to be found 'mongst noblemen) +He caught, or would have caught, the flame, +And would be nothing, or the same. +He drank with drunkards, lived with sinners, +Herded with infidels for dinners; +With such an emphasis and grace +Blasphemed, that Potter[141] kept not pace: +He, in the highest reign of noon, +Bawled bawdy songs to a psalm tune; 190 +Lived with men infamous and vile, +Truck'd his salvation for a smile; +To catch their humour caught their plan, +And laugh'd at God to laugh with man; +Praised them, when living, in each breath, +And damn'd their memories after death. + To prove his faith, which all admit +Is at least equal to his wit, +And make himself a man of note, +He in defence of Scripture wrote: 200 +So long he wrote, and long about it, +That e'en believers 'gan to doubt it: +He wrote, too, of the inward light, +Though no one knew how he came by 't, +And of that influencing grace +Which in his life ne'er found a place: +He wrote, too, of the Holy Ghost, +Of whom no more than doth a post +He knew; nor, should an angel show him, +Would he, or know, or choose to know him. 210 + Next (for he knew 'twixt every science +There was a natural alliance) +He wrote, to advance his Maker's praise, +Comments[142] on rhymes, and notes on plays, +And with an all-sufficient air +Placed himself in the critic's chair; +Usurp'd o'er Reason full dominion, +And govern'd merely by Opinion. +At length dethroned, and kept in awe +By one plain simple man of law,[143] 220 +He arm'd dead friends, to vengeance true, +To abuse the man they never knew. + Examine strictly all mankind, +Most characters are mix'd, we find; +And Vice and Virtue take their turn +In the same breast to beat and burn. +Our priest was an exception here, +Nor did one spark of grace appear, +Not one dull, dim spark in his soul; +Vice, glorious Vice, possess'd the whole, 230 +And, in her service truly warm, +He was in sin most uniform. + Injurious Satire! own at least +One snivelling virtue in the priest, +One snivelling virtue, which is placed, +They say, in or about the waist, +Call'd Chastity; the prudish dame +Knows it at large by Virtue's name. +To this his wife (and in these days +Wives seldom without reason praise) 240 +Bears evidence--then calls her child, +And swears that Tom[144] was vastly wild. + Ripen'd by a long course of years, +He great and perfect now appears. +In shape scarce of the human kind, +A man, without a manly mind; +No husband, though he's truly wed; +Though on his knees a child is bred, +No father; injured, without end +A foe; and though obliged, no friend; 250 +A heart, which virtue ne'er disgraced; +A head, where learning runs to waste; +A gentleman well-bred, if breeding +Rests in the article of reading; +A man of this world, for the next +Was ne'er included in his text; +A judge of genius, though confess'd +With not one spark of genius bless'd; +Amongst the first of critics placed, +Though free from every taint of taste; 260 +A Christian without faith or works, +As he would be a Turk 'mongst Turks; +A great divine, as lords agree, +Without the least divinity; +To crown all, in declining age, +Inflamed with church and party rage, +Behold him, full and perfect quite, +A false saint, and true hypocrite. + Next sat a lawyer,[145] often tried +In perilous extremes; when Pride 270 +And Power, all wild and trembling, stood, +Nor dared to tempt the raging flood; +This bold, bad man arose to view, +And gave his hand to help them through: +Steel'd 'gainst compassion, as they pass'd +He saw poor Freedom breathe her last; +He saw her struggle, heard her groan; +He saw her helpless and alone, +Whelm'd in that storm, which, fear'd and praised +By slaves less bold, himself had raised. 280 + Bred to the law, he from the first +Of all bad lawyers was the worst. +Perfection (for bad men maintain +In ill we may perfection gain) +In others is a work of time, +And they creep on from crime to crime; +He, for a prodigy design'd, +To spread amazement o'er mankind, +Started full ripen'd all at once +A perfect knave, and perfect dunce. 290 + Who will, for him, may boast of sense, +His better guard is impudence; +His front, with tenfold plates of brass +Secured, Shame never yet could pass, +Nor on the surface of his skin +Blush for that guilt which dwelt within. +How often, in contempt of laws, +To sound the bottom of a cause, +To search out every rotten part, +And worm into its very heart, 300 +Hath he ta'en briefs on false pretence, +And undertaken the defence +Of trusting fools, whom in the end +He meant to ruin, not defend! +How often, e'en in open court, +Hath the wretch made his shame his sport, +And laugh'd off, with a villain's ease, +Throwing up briefs, and keeping fees! +Such things as, though to roguery bred, +Had struck a little villain dead! 310 + Causes, whatever their import, +He undertakes, to serve a court; +For he by art this rule had got, +Power can effect what Law cannot. + Fools he forgives, but rogues he fears; +If Genius, yoked with Worth, appears, +His weak soul sickens at the sight, +And strives to plunge them down in night. + So loud he talks, so very loud, +He is an angel with the crowd; 320 +Whilst he makes Justice hang her head, +And judges turn from pale to red. + Bid all that Nature, on a plan +Most intimate, makes dear to man, +All that with grand and general ties +Binds good and bad, the fool and wise, +Knock at his heart; they knock in vain; +No entrance there such suitors gain; +Bid kneeling kings forsake the throne, +Bid at his feet his country groan; 330 +Bid Liberty stretch out her hands, +Religion plead her stronger bands; +Bid parents, children, wife, and friends, +If they come 'thwart his private ends-- +Unmoved he hears the general call, +And bravely tramples on them all. + Who will, for him, may cant and whine, +And let weak Conscience with her line +Chalk out their ways; such starving rules +Are only fit for coward fools; 340 +Fellows who credit what priests tell, +And tremble at the thoughts of Hell; +His spirit dares contend with Grace, +And meets Damnation face to face. + Such was our lawyer; by his side, +In all bad qualities allied, +In all bad counsels, sat a third, +By birth a lord.[146] Oh, sacred word! +Oh, word most sacred! whence men get +A privilege to run in debt; 350 +Whence they at large exemption claim +From Satire, and her servant Shame; +Whence they, deprived of all her force, +Forbid bold Truth to hold her course. + Consult his person, dress, and air, +He seems, which strangers well might swear, +The master, or, by courtesy, +The captain of a colliery. +Look at his visage, and agree +Half-hang'd he seems, just from the tree 360 +Escaped; a rope may sometimes break, +Or men be cut down by mistake. + He hath not virtue (in the school +Of Vice bred up) to live by rule, +Nor hath he sense (which none can doubt +Who know the man) to live without. +His life is a continued scene +Of all that's infamous and mean; +He knows not change, unless, grown nice +And delicate, from vice to vice; 370 +Nature design'd him, in a rage, +To be the Wharton[147] of his age; +But, having given all the sin, +Forgot to put the virtues in. +To run a horse, to make a match, +To revel deep, to roar a catch, +To knock a tottering watchman down, +To sweat a woman of the town; +By fits to keep the peace, or break it, +In turn to give a pox, or take it; 380 +He is, in faith, most excellent, +And, in the word's most full intent, +A true choice spirit, we admit; +With wits a fool, with fools a wit: +Hear him but talk, and you would swear +Obscenity herself was there, +And that Profaneness had made choice, +By way of trump, to use his voice; +That, in all mean and low things great, +He had been bred at Billingsgate; 390 +And that, ascending to the earth +Before the season of his birth, +Blasphemy, making way and room, +Had mark'd him in his mother's womb. +Too honest (for the worst of men +In forms are honest, now and then) +Not to have, in the usual way, +His bills sent in; too great to pay: +Too proud to speak to, if he meets +The honest tradesman whom he cheats: 400 +Too infamous to have a friend; +Too bad for bad men to commend, +Or good to name; beneath whose weight +Earth groans; who hath been spared by Fate +Only to show, on Mercy's plan, +How far and long God bears with man. + Such were the three, who, mocking sleep, +At midnight sat, in counsel deep, +Plotting destruction 'gainst a head +Whose wisdom could not be misled; 410 +Plotting destruction 'gainst a heart +Which ne'er from honour would depart. + 'Is he not rank'd amongst our foes? +Hath not his spirit dared oppose +Our dearest measures, made our name +Stand forward on the roll of Shame +Hath he not won the vulgar tribes, +By scorning menaces and bribes, +And proving that his darling cause +Is, of their liberties and laws 420 +To stand the champion? In a word, +Nor need one argument be heard +Beyond this to awake our zeal, +To quicken our resolves, and steel +Our steady souls to bloody bent, +(Sure ruin to each dear intent, +Each flattering hope) he, without fear, +Hath dared to make the truth appear.' + They said, and, by resentment taught, +Each on revenge employ'd his thought; 430 +Each, bent on mischief, rack'd his brain +To her full stretch, but rack'd in vain; +Scheme after scheme they brought to view; +All were examined; none would do: +When Fraud, with pleasure in her face, +Forth issued from her hiding-place, +And at the table where they meet, +First having bless'd them, took her seat. + 'No trifling cause, my darling boys, +Your present thoughts and cares employs; 440 +No common snare, no random blow, +Can work the bane of such a foe: +By nature cautious as he's brave, +To Honour only he's a slave; +In that weak part without defence, +We must to honour make pretence; +That lure shall to his ruin draw +The wretch, who stands secure in law. +Nor think that I have idly plann'd +This full-ripe scheme; behold at hand, 450 +With three months' training on his head, +An instrument, whom I have bred, +Born of these bowels, far from sight +Of Virtue's false but glaring light, +My youngest-born, my dearest joy, +Most like myself, my darling boy! +He, never touch'd with vile remorse, +Resolved and crafty in his course, +Shall work our ends, complete our schemes, +Most mine, when most he Honour's seems; 460 +Nor can be found, at home, abroad, +So firm and full a slave of Fraud.' + She said, and from each envious son +A discontented murmur run +Around the table; all in place +Thought his full praise their own disgrace, +Wondering what stranger she had got, +Who had one vice that they had not; +When straight the portals open flew, +And, clad in armour, to their view 470 +Martin, the Duellist, came forth. +All knew, and all confess'd his worth; +All justified, with smiles array'd, +The happy choice their dam had made. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [132] 'The Duellist:' the _North Briton_ had fiercely assailed Mr + Martin, M.P. for Camelford, who, on the first day of the next session + of Parliament, complained of it; Mr Wilkes owned himself the author, + and the result was a duel in Hyde Park, in which Wilkes was severely + wounded. He always owned that Martin acted honourably in the rencontre, + but not so thought Churchill. + + [133] 'Hanging friends:' See note on v. 140 of the Epistle to William + Hogarth. + + [134] 'Earl Talbot:' Lord Steward of the King's Household from 1761 to + 1782, an economical Reformer. + + [135] 'Temple:' the British Constitution. + + [136] 'Flitcrofts:' Henry Flitcroft, an architect of some eminence. + + [137] 'Brief:' alluding to the practice of obtaining contributions for + the repair of churches, &c., by reading briefs in church. + + [138] 'Resign'd:' the Dukes of Newcastle and Devonshire, Lord Temple, + &c. who resigned their offices in 1762. Their successors pretended to + economy, but it was a mere pretence. + + [139] 'Leach:' Dryden Leach, an expert and tasteful printer in Crane + Court, Fleet street, was unjustly imprisoned on account of Wilkes. + + [140]'Pratt:' Lord Camden. + + [141] 'Seals:' The general warrant for the apprehension of Wilkes was + signed by the Earls of Egremont and Halifax, joint secretaries of state + for the home department. + + [142] 'Forbes and Dun:' two Scotchmen, one of whom challenged Wilkes, + and the other tried to assassinate him. Dun was insane. + + [143] 'The Bastile:' Wilkes was six days in the Tower. + + [140] 'First:' the great William Warburton, who rose partly through his + marriage with the niece of the rich Ralph Allen. + + [141] 'Potter:' mentioned above. He was suspected by Warburton of being + the author of the infamous notes to Wilkes's infamous 'Essay on Woman.' + + [142] 'Comments:' referring to the notes to 'The Dunciad,' and on + Shakspeare. + + [143] 'Man of law:' Mr Thomas Edwards, a barrister, wrote a clever book + against Warburton's criticism. Warburton alluded to him contemptuously + afterwards, in a note to a new edition of 'The Dunciad.' + + [144] 'Tom:' this son was Warburton's only child, and died before his + father. + + [145] 'A lawyer:' Sir Fletcher Norton, who as well as Warburton is + caricatured. + + [146] 'A lord:' Sandwich. + + [147] 'Wharton:' Philip Duke of Wharton, whose character is found in + Pope's 'Moral Essays,' was noted for the greatness of his talents, + and for his dissolute life. + + + + +GOTHAM.[148] + +In Three Books. + + +BOOK I. + + +Far off (no matter whether east or west, +A real country, or one made in jest, +Nor yet by modern Mandevilles[149] disgraced, +Nor by map-jobbers wretchedly misplaced) +There lies an island, neither great nor small, +Which, for distinction sake, I Gotham call. + The man who finds an unknown country out, +By giving it a name, acquires, no doubt, +A Gospel title, though the people there +The pious Christian thinks not worth his care 10 +Bar this pretence, and into air is hurl'd +The claim of Europe to the Western world. + Cast by a tempest on the savage coast, +Some roving buccaneer set up a post; +A beam, in proper form transversely laid, +Of his Redeemer's cross the figure made-- +Of that Redeemer, with whose laws his life, +From first to last, had been one scene of strife; +His royal master's name thereon engraved, +Without more process the whole race enslaved, 20 +Cut off that charter they from Nature drew, +And made them slaves to men they never knew. + Search ancient histories, consult records, +Under this title the most Christian lords +Hold (thanks to conscience) more than half the ball; +O'erthrow this title, they have none at all; +For never yet might any monarch dare, +Who lived to Truth, and breathed a Christian air, +Pretend that Christ, (who came, we all agree, +To bless his people, and to set them free) 30 +To make a convert, ever one law gave +By which converters made him first a slave. + Spite of the glosses of a canting priest, +Who talks of charity, but means a feast; +Who recommends it (whilst he seems to feel +The holy glowings of a real zeal) +To all his hearers as a deed of worth, +To give them heaven whom they have robb'd of earth; +Never shall one, one truly honest man, +Who, bless'd with Liberty, reveres her plan, 40 +Allow one moment that a savage sire +Could from his wretched race, for childish hire, +By a wild grant, their all, their freedom pass, +And sell his country for a bit of glass. + Or grant this barbarous right, let Spain and France, +In slavery bred, as purchasers advance; +Let them, whilst Conscience is at distance hurl'd, +With some gay bauble buy a golden world: +An Englishman, in charter'd freedom born, +Shall spurn the slavish merchandise, shall scorn 50 +To take from others, through base private views, +What he himself would rather die, than lose. + Happy the savage of those early times, +Ere Europe's sons were known, and Europe's crimes! +Gold, cursed gold! slept in the womb of earth, +Unfelt its mischiefs, as unknown its worth; +In full content he found the truest wealth, +In toil he found diversion, food, and health; +Stranger to ease and luxury of courts, +His sports were labours, and his labours sports; 60 +His youth was hardy, and his old age green; +Life's morn was vigorous, and her eve serene; +No rules he held, but what were made for use, +No arts he learn'd, nor ills which arts produce; +False lights he follow'd, but believed them true; +He knew not much, but lived to what he knew. + Happy, thrice happy now the savage race, +Since Europe took their gold, and gave them grace! +Pastors she sends to help them in their need, +Some who can't write; with others who can't read; 70 +And on sure grounds the gospel pile to rear, +Sends missionary felons every year; +Our vices, with more zeal than holy prayers, +She teaches them, and in return takes theirs. +Her rank oppressions give them cause to rise, +Her want of prudence, means and arms supplies, +Whilst her brave rage, not satisfied with life, +Rising in blood, adopts the scalping-knife. +Knowledge she gives, enough to make them know +How abject is their state, how deep their woe; 80 +The worth of freedom strongly she explains, +Whilst she bows down, and loads their necks with chains. +Faith, too, she plants, for her own ends impress'd, +To make them bear the worst, and hope the best; +And whilst she teaches, on vile Interest's plan, +As laws of God, the wild decrees of man, +Like Pharisees, of whom the Scriptures tell, +She makes them ten times more the sons of Hell. + But whither do these grave reflections tend? +Are they design'd for any, or no end? 90 +Briefly but this--to prove, that by no act +Which Nature made, that by no equal pact +'Twixt man and man, which might, if Justice heard, +Stand good; that by no benefits conferr'd, +Or purchase made, Europe in chains can hold +The sons of India, and her mines of gold. +Chance led her there in an accursed hour; +She saw, and made the country hers by power; +Nor, drawn by virtue's love from love of fame, +Shall my rash folly controvert the claim, 100 +Or wish in thought that title overthrown +Which coincides with and involves my own. + Europe discover'd India first; I found +My right to Gotham on the self-same ground; +I first discover'd it, nor shall that plea +To her be granted, and denied to me; +I plead possession, and, till one more bold +Shall drive me out, will that possession hold. +With Europe's rights my kindred rights I twine; +Hers be the Western world, be Gotham mine. 110 + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + As on a day, a high and holy day, +Let every instrument of music play, +Ancient and modern; those which drew their birth +(Punctilios laid aside) from Pagan earth, 120 +As well as those by Christian made and Jew; +Those known to many, and those known to few; +Those which in whim and frolic lightly float, +And those which swell the slow and solemn note; +Those which (whilst Reason stands in wonder by) +Make some complexions laugh, and others cry; +Those which, by some strange faculty of sound, +Can build walls up, and raze them to the ground; +Those which can tear up forests by the roots, +And make brutes dance like men, and men like brutes; 130 +Those which, whilst Ridicule leads up the dance, +Make clowns of Monmouth[150] ape the fops of France; +Those which, where Lady Dulness with Lord Mayors +Presides, disdaining light and trifling airs, +Hallow the feast with psalmody; and those +Which, planted in our churches to dispose +And lift the mind to Heaven, are disgraced +With what a foppish organist calls Taste: +All, from the fiddle (on which every fool, +The pert son of dull sire, discharged from school, 140 +Serves an apprenticeship in college ease, +And rises through the gamut to degrees) +To those which (though less common, not less sweet) +From famed Saint Giles's, and more famed Vine Street, +(Where Heaven, the utmost wish of man to grant, +Gave me an old house, and an older aunt) +Thornton,[151] whilst Humour pointed out the road +To her arch cub, hath hitch'd into an ode;-- +All instruments (attend, ye listening spheres! +Attend, ye sons of men! and hear with ears), 150 +All instruments (nor shall they seek one hand +Impress'd from modern Music's coxcomb band), +All instruments, self-acted, at my name +Shall pour forth harmony, and loud proclaim, +Loud but yet sweet, to the according globe, +My praises; whilst gay Nature, in a robe, +A coxcomb doctor's robe, to the full sound +Keeps time, like Boyce,[152] and the world dances round. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, 160 +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + Infancy, straining backward from the breast, +Tetchy and wayward, what he loveth best +Refusing in his fits, whilst all the while +The mother eyes the wrangler with a smile, +And the fond father sits on t' other side, +Laughs at his moods, and views his spleen with pride, 170 +Shall murmur forth my name, whilst at his hand +Nurse stands interpreter, through Gotham's land. + Childhood, who like an April morn appears, +Sunshine and rain, hopes clouded o'er with fears, +Pleased and displeased by starts, in passion warm, +In reason weak; who, wrought into a storm, +Like to the fretful billows of the deep, +Soon spends his rage, and cries himself asleep; +Who, with a feverish appetite oppress'd, +For trifles sighs, but hates them when possess'd; 180 +His trembling lash suspended in the air, +Half-bent, and stroking back his long lank hair, +Shall to his mates look up with eager glee, +And let his top go down to prate of me. + Youth, who, fierce, fickle, insolent, and vain, +Impatient urges on to Manhood's reign, +Impatient urges on, yet with a cast +Of dear regard looks back on Childhood past, +In the mid-chase, when the hot blood runs high, +And the quick spirits mount into his eye; 190 +When pleasure, which he deems his greatest wealth, +Beats in his heart, and paints his cheeks with health; +When the chafed steed tugs proudly at the rein, +And, ere he starts, hath run o'er half the plain; +When, wing'd with fear, the stag flies full in view, +And in full cry the eager hounds pursue, +Shall shout my praise to hills which shout again, +And e'en the huntsman stop to cry, Amen. + Manhood, of form erect, who would not bow +Though worlds should crack around him; on his brow 200 +Wisdom serene, to passion giving law, +Bespeaking love, and yet commanding awe; +Dignity into grace by mildness wrought; +Courage attemper'd and refined by thought; +Virtue supreme enthroned; within his breast +The image of his Maker deep impress'd; +Lord of this earth, which trembles at his nod, +With reason bless'd, and only less than God; +Manhood, though weeping Beauty kneels for aid, +Though Honour calls, in Danger's form array'd, 210 +Though clothed with sackloth, Justice in the gates, +By wicked elders chain'd, Redemption waits, +Manhood shall steal an hour, a little hour, +(Is't not a little one?) to hail my power. + Old Age, a second child, by Nature cursed +With more and greater evils than the first; +Weak, sickly, full of pains, in every breath +Railing at life, and yet afraid of death; +Putting things off, with sage and solemn air, +From day to day, without one day to spare; 220 +Without enjoyment, covetous of pelf, +Tiresome to friends, and tiresome to himself; +His faculties impair'd, his temper sour'd, +His memory of recent things devour'd +E'en with the acting, on his shatter'd brain +Though the false registers of youth remain; +From morn to evening babbling forth vain praise +Of those rare men, who lived in those rare days, +When he, the hero of his tale, was young; +Dull repetitions faltering on his tongue; 230 +Praising gray hairs, sure mark of Wisdom's sway, +E'en whilst he curses Time, which made him gray; +Scoffing at youth, e'en whilst he would afford +All but his gold to have his youth restored, +Shall for a moment, from himself set free, +Lean on his crutch, and pipe forth praise to me. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, 240 +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + Things without life shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + The snowdrop, who, in habit white and plain, +Comes on, the herald of fair Flora's train; +The coxcomb crocus, flower of simple note, +Who by her side struts in a herald's coat; +The tulip, idly glaring to the view, +Who, though no clown, his birth from Holland drew; 250 +Who, once full dress'd, fears from his place to stir, +The fop of flowers, the More of a parterre; +The woodbine, who her elm in marriage meets, +And brings her dowry in surrounding sweets; +The lily, silver mistress of the vale; +The rose of Sharon, which perfumes the gale; +The jessamine, with which the queen of flowers, +To charm her god, adorns his favourite bowers, +Which brides, by the plain hand of Neatness dress'd, +Unenvied rival, wear upon their breast, 260 +Sweet as the incense of the morn, and chaste +As the pure zone which circles Dian's waist; +All flowers, of various names, and various forms, +Which the sun into strength and beauty warms, +From the dwarf daisy, which, like infants, clings, +And fears to leave the earth from whence it springs, +To the proud giant of the garden race, +Who, madly rushing to the sun's embrace, +O'ertops her fellows with aspiring aim, +Demands his wedded love, and bears his name; 270 +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + Forming a gloom, through which, to spleen-struck minds, +Religion, horror-stamp'd, a passage finds, 280 +The ivy crawling o'er the hallow'd cell +Where some old hermit's wont his beads to tell +By day, by night; the myrtle ever green, +Beneath whose shade Love holds his rites unseen; +The willow, weeping o'er the fatal wave +Where many a lover finds a watery grave; +The cypress, sacred held, when lovers mourn +Their true love snatch'd away; the laurel worn +By poets in old time, but destined now, +In grief, to wither on a Whitehead's brow; 290 +The fig, which, large as what in India grows, +Itself a grove, gave our first parents clothes; +The vine, which, like a blushing new-made bride, +Clustering, empurples all the mountain's side; +The yew, which, in the place of sculptured stone, +Marks out the resting-place of men unknown; +The hedge-row elm; the pine, of mountain race; +The fir, the Scotch fir, never out of place; +The cedar, whose top mates the highest cloud, +Whilst his old father Lebanon grows proud 300 +Of such a child, and his vast body laid +Out many a mile, enjoys the filial shade; +The oak, when living, monarch of the wood; +The English oak, which, dead, commands the flood; +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, 310 +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + The showers, which make the young hills, like young lambs, +Bound and rebound; the old hills, like old rams, +Unwieldy, jump for joy; the streams which glide, +Whilst Plenty marches smiling by their side, +And from their bosom rising Commerce springs; +The winds, which rise with healing on their wings, +Before whose cleansing breath Contagion flies; +The sun, who, travelling in eastern skies, 320 +Fresh, full of strength, just risen from his bed, +Though in Jove's pastures they were born and bred, +With voice and whip can scarce make his steeds stir, +Step by step, up the perpendicular; +Who, at the hour of eve, panting for rest, +Rolls on amain, and gallops down the west +As fast as Jehu, oil'd for Ahab's sin, +Drove for a crown, or postboys for an inn; +The moon, who holds o'er night her silver reign, +Regent of tides, and mistress of the brain, 330 +Who to her sons, those sons who own her power, +And do her homage at the midnight hour, +Gives madness as a blessing, but dispenses +Wisdom to fools, and damns them with their senses; +The stars, who, by I know not what strange right, +Preside o'er mortals in their own despite, +Who, without reason, govern those who most +(How truly, judge from thence!) of reason boast, +And, by some mighty magic yet unknown, +Our actions guide, yet cannot guide their own; 340 +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + The moment, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, +Morning and eve, as they in turn appear; 350 +Moments and minutes, which, without a crime, +Can't be omitted in accounts of time, +Or, if omitted, (proof we might afford) +Worthy by parliaments to be restored; +The hours, which, dress'd by turns in black and white, +Ordain'd as handmaids, wait on Day and Night; +The day, those hours, I mean, when light presides, +And Business in a cart with Prudence rides; +The night, those hours, I mean, with darkness hung, +When Sense speaks free, and Folly holds her tongue; 360 +The morn, when Nature, rousing from her strife +With death-like sleep, awakes to second life; +The eve, when, as unequal to the task, +She mercy from her foe descends to ask; +The week, in which six days are kindly given +To think of earth, and one to think of heaven; +The months, twelve sisters, all of different hue, +Though there appears in all a likeness too; +Not such a likeness as, through Hayman's[153] works, +Dull mannerist! in Christians, Jews, and Turks, 370 +Cloys with a sameness in each female face, +But a strange something, born of Art and Grace, +Which speaks them all, to vary and adorn, +At different times of the same parents born; +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, 380 +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + Frore January, leader of the year, +Minced-pies in van, and calves' heads in the rear; +Dull February, in whose leaden reign +My mother bore a bard without a brain; +March, various, fierce, and wild, with wind-crack'd cheeks, +By wilder Welshmen led, and crown'd with leeks; +April, with fools, and May, with bastards bless'd; +June, with White Roses on her rebel breast; 390 +July, to whom, the Dog-star in her train, +Saint James[154] gives oysters, and Saint Swithin rain; +August[155], who, banish'd from her Smithfield stand, +To Chelsea flies, with Doggett in her hand; +September, when by custom (right divine) +Geese are ordain'd to bleed at Michael's shrine, +Whilst the priest, not so full of grace as wit, +Falls to, unbless'd, nor gives the saint a bit; +October, who the cause of Freedom join'd, +And gave a second George[156] to bless mankind; 400 +November, who, at once to grace our earth, +Saint Andrew boasts, and our Augusta's[157] birth; +December, last of months, but best, who gave +A Christ to man, a Saviour to the slave, +Whilst, falsely grateful, man, at the full feast, +To do God honour makes himself a beast; +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, 410 +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + The seasons as they roll; Spring, by her side +Lechery and Lent, lay-folly and church-pride, +By a rank monk to copulation led, +A tub of sainted salt-fish on her head; +Summer, in light transparent gauze array'd, +Like maids of honour at a masquerade, 420 +In bawdry gauze, for which our daughters leave +The fig, more modest, first brought up by Eve, +Panting for breath, inflamed with lustful fires, +Yet wanting strength to perfect her desires, +Leaning on Sloth, who, fainting with the heat, +Stops at each step, and slumbers on his feet; +Autumn, when Nature, who with sorrow feels +Her dread foe Winter treading on her heels, +Makes up in value what she wants in length, +Exerts her powers, and puts forth all her strength, 430 +Bids corn and fruits in full perfection rise, +Corn fairly tax'd, and fruits without excise; +Winter, benumb'd with cold, no longer known +By robes of fur, since furs became our own; +A hag, who, loathing all, by all is loathed, +With weekly, daily, hourly, libels clothed, +Vile Faction at her heels, who, mighty grown, +Would rule the ruler, and foreclose the throne, +Would turn all state affairs into a trade, +Make laws one day, the next to be unmade, 440 +Beggar at home, a people fear'd abroad, +And, force defeated, make them slaves by fraud; +All, one and all, shall in this chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? 450 + The year, grand circle! in whose ample round +The seasons regular and fix'd are bound, +(Who, in his course repeated o'er and o'er, +Sees the same things which he had seen before; +The same stars keep their watch, and the same sun +Runs in the track where he from first hath run; +The same moon rules the night; tides ebb and flow; +Man is a puppet, and this world a show; +Their old dull follies, old dull fools pursue, +And vice in nothing, but in mode, is new; 460 +He ---- a lord (now fair befall that pride, +He lived a villain, but a lord he died) +Dashwood is pious, Berkeley[158] fix'd as Fate, +Sandwich (thank Heaven!) first minister of state; +And, though by fools despised, by saints unbless'd, +By friends neglected, and by foes oppress'd, +Scorning the servile arts of each court elf, +Founded on honour, Wilkes is still himself) +The year, encircled with the various train +Which waits, and fills the glories of his reign, 470 +Shall, taking up this theme, in chorus join, +And, dumb to others' praise, be loud in mine. + Rejoice, ye happy Gothamites! rejoice; +Lift up your voice on high, a mighty voice, +The voice of gladness; and on every tongue, +In strains of gratitude, be praises hung, +The praises of so great and good a king: +Shall Churchill reign, and shall not Gotham sing? + Thus far in sport--nor let our critics hence, +Who sell out monthly trash, and call it sense, 480 +Too lightly of our present labours deem, +Or judge at random of so high a theme: +High is our theme, and worthy are the men +To feel the sharpest stroke of Satire's pen; +But when kind Time a proper season brings, +In serious mood to treat of serious things, +Then shall they find, disdaining idle play, +That I can be as grave and dull as they. + Thus far in sport--nor let half patriots, those +Who shrink from every blast of Power which blows, 490 +Who, with tame cowardice familiar grown, +Would hear my thoughts, but fear to speak their own; +Who (lest bold truths, to do sage Prudence spite, +Should burst the portals of their lips by night, +Tremble to trust themselves one hour in sleep) +Condemn our course, and hold our caution cheap; +When brave Occasion bids, for some great end, +When Honour calls the poet as a friend, +Then shall they find that, e'en on Danger's brink, +He dares to speak what they scarce dare to think. 500 + + +BOOK II. + + +How much mistaken are the men who think +That all who will, without restraint may drink, +May largely drink, e'en till their bowels burst, +Pleading no right but merely that of thirst, +At the pure waters of the living well, +Beside whose streams the Muses love to dwell! +Verse is with them a knack, an idle toy, +A rattle gilded o'er, on which a boy +May play untaught, whilst, without art or force, +Make it but jingle, music comes of course. 10 + Little do such men know the toil, the pains, +The daily, nightly racking of the brains, +To range the thoughts, the matter to digest, +To cull fit phrases, and reject the rest; +To know the times when Humour on the cheek +Of Mirth may hold her sports; when Wit should speak, +And when be silent; when to use the powers +Of ornament, and how to place the flowers, +So that they neither give a tawdry glare, +'Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air;' 20 +To form, (which few can do, and scarcely one, +One critic in an age, can find when done) +To form a plan, to strike a grand outline, +To fill it up, and make the picture shine +A full and perfect piece; to make coy Rhyme +Renounce her follies, and with Sense keep time; +To make proud Sense against her nature bend, +And wear the chains of Rhyme, yet call her friend. + Some fops there are, amongst the scribbling tribe, +Who make it all their business to describe, 30 +No matter whether in or out of place; +Studious of finery, and fond of lace, +Alike they trim, as coxcomb Fancy brings, +The rags of beggars, and the robes of kings. +Let dull Propriety in state preside +O'er her dull children, Nature is their guide; +Wild Nature, who at random breaks the fence +Of those tame drudges, Judgment, Taste, and Sense, +Nor would forgive herself the mighty crime +Of keeping terms with Person, Place, and Time. 40 + Let liquid gold emblaze the sun at noon, +With borrow'd beams let silver pale the moon; +Let surges hoarse lash the resounding shore, +Let streams meander, and let torrents roar; +Let them breed up the melancholy breeze, +To sigh with sighing, sob with sobbing trees; +Let vales embroidery wear; let flowers be tinged +With various tints; let clouds be laced or fringed, +They have their wish; like idle monarch boys, +Neglecting things of weight, they sigh for toys; 50 +Give them the crown, the sceptre, and the robe, +Who will may take the power, and rule the globe. + Others there are, who, in one solemn pace, +With as much zeal as Quakers rail at lace, +Railing at needful ornament, depend +On Sense to bring them to their journey's end: +They would not (Heaven forbid!) their course delay, +Nor for a moment step out of the way, +To make the barren road those graces wear +Which Nature would, if pleased, have planted there. 60 + Vain men! who, blindly thwarting Nature's plan, +Ne'er find a passage to the heart of man; +Who, bred 'mongst fogs in academic land, +Scorn every thing they do not understand; +Who, destitute of humour, wit, and taste, +Let all their little knowledge run to waste, +And frustrate each good purpose, whilst they wear +The robes of Learning with a sloven's air. +Though solid reasoning arms each sterling line, +Though Truth declares aloud, 'This work is mine,' +Vice, whilst from page to page dull morals creep, 70 +Throws by the book, and Virtue falls asleep. + Sense, mere dull, formal Sense, in this gay town, +Must have some vehicle to pass her down; +Nor can she for an hour insure her reign, +Unless she brings fair Pleasure in her train. +Let her from day to day, from year to year, +In all her grave solemnities appear, +And with the voice of trumpets, through the streets, +Deal lectures out to every one she meets; 80 +Half who pass by are deaf, and t' other half +Can hear indeed, but only hear to laugh. +Quit then, ye graver sons of letter'd Pride! +Taking for once Experience as a guide, +Quit this grand error, this dull college mode; +Be your pursuits the same, but change the road; +Write, or at least appear to write, with ease, +'And if you mean to profit, learn to please.' + In vain for such mistakes they pardon claim, +Because they wield the pen in Virtue's name: 90 +Thrice sacred is that name, thrice bless'd the man +Who thinks, speaks, writes, and lives on such a plan! +This, in himself, himself of course must bless, +But cannot with the world promote success. +He may be strong, but, with effect to speak, +Should recollect his readers may be weak; +Plain, rigid truths, which saints with comfort bear, +Will make the sinner tremble and despair. +True Virtue acts from love, and the great end +At which she nobly aims is to amend. 100 +How then do those mistake who arm her laws +With rigour not their own, and hurt the cause +They mean to help, whilst with a zealot rage +They make that goddess, whom they'd have engage +Our dearest love, in hideous terror rise! +Such may be honest, but they can't be wise. + In her own full and perfect blaze of light, +Virtue breaks forth too strong for human sight; +The dazzled eye, that nice but weaker sense, +Shuts herself up in darkness for defence: 110 +But to make strong conviction deeper sink, +To make the callous feel, the thoughtless think, +Like God, made man, she lays her glory by, +And beams mild comfort on the ravish'd eye: +In earnest most, when most she seems in jest, +She worms into, and winds around, the breast, +To conquer Vice, of Vice appears the friend, +And seems unlike herself to gain her end. +The sons of Sin, to while away the time +Which lingers on their hands, of each black crime 120 +To hush the painful memory, and keep +The tyrant Conscience in delusive sleep, +Read on at random, nor suspect the dart +Until they find it rooted in their heart. +'Gainst vice they give their vote, nor know at first +That, cursing that, themselves too they have cursed; +They see not, till they fall into the snares, +Deluded into virtue unawares. +Thus the shrewd doctor, in the spleen-struck mind, +When pregnant horror sits, and broods o'er wind, 130 +Discarding drugs, and striving how to please, +Lures on insensibly, by slow degrees, +The patient to those manly sports which bind +The slacken'd sinews, and relieve the mind; +The patient feels a change as wrought by stealth, +And wonders on demand to find it health. + Some few, whom Fate ordain'd to deal in rhymes +In other lands, and here, in other times, +Whom, waiting at their birth, the midwife Muse +Sprinkled all over with Castalian dews, 140 +To whom true Genius gave his magic pen, +Whom Art by just degrees led up to men; +Some few, extremes well shunn'd, have steer'd between +These dangerous rocks, and held the golden mean; +Sense in their works maintains her proper state, +But never sleeps, or labours with her weight; +Grace makes the whole look elegant and gay, +But never dares from Sense to run astray: +So nice the master's touch, so great his care, +The colours boldly glow, not idly glare; 150 +Mutually giving and receiving aid, +They set each other off, like light and shade, +And, as by stealth, with so much softness blend, +'Tis hard to say where they begin or end: +Both give us charms, and neither gives offence; +Sense perfects Grace, and Grace enlivens Sense. + Peace to the men who these high honours claim, +Health to their souls, and to their memories fame! +Be it my task, and no mean task, to teach +A reverence for that worth I cannot reach: 160 +Let me at distance, with a steady eye, +Observe and mark their passage to the sky; +From envy free, applaud such rising worth, +And praise their heaven, though pinion'd down to earth! + Had I the power, I could not have the time, +Whilst spirits flow, and life is in her prime, +Without a sin 'gainst Pleasure, to design +A plan, to methodise each thought, each line +Highly to finish, and make every grace, +In itself charming, take new charms from place. 170 +Nothing of books, and little known of men, +When the mad fit comes on, I seize the pen, +Rough as they run, the rapid thoughts set down. +Rough as they run, discharge them on the town. +Hence rude, unfinish'd brats, before their time, +Are born into this idle world of Rhyme, +And the poor slattern Muse is brought to bed +'With all her imperfections on her head.' +Some, as no life appears, no pulses play +Through the dull dubious mass, no breath makes way, 180 +Doubt, greatly doubt, till for a glass they call, +Whether the child can be baptized at all; +Others, on other grounds, objections frame, +And, granting that the child may have a name, +Doubt, as the sex might well a midwife pose, +Whether they should baptize it Verse or Prose. + E'en what my masters please; bards, mild, meek men, +In love to critics, stumble now and then. +Something I do myself, and something too, +If they can do it, leave for them to do. 190 +In the small compass of my careless page +Critics may find employment for an age: +Without my blunders, they were all undone; +I twenty feed, where Mason can feed one. + When Satire stoops, unmindful of her state, +To praise the man I love, curse him I hate; +When Sense, in tides of passion borne along, +Sinking to prose, degrades the name of song, +The censor smiles, and, whilst my credit bleeds, +With as high relish on the carrion feeds 200 +As the proud earl fed at a turtle feast, +Who, turn'd by gluttony to worse than beast, +Ate till his bowels gush'd upon the floor, +Yet still ate on, and dying call'd for more. + When loose Digression, like a colt unbroke, +Spurning Connexion and her formal yoke, +Bounds through the forest, wanders far astray +From the known path, and loves to lose her way, +'Tis a full feast to all the mongrel pack +To run the rambler down, and bring her back. 210 + When gay Description, Fancy's fairy child, +Wild without art, and yet with pleasure wild, +Waking with Nature at the morning hour +To the lark's call, walks o'er the opening flower +Which largely drank all night of heaven's fresh dew, +And, like a mountain nymph of Dian's crew, +So lightly walks, she not one mark imprints, +Nor brushes off the dews, nor soils the tints; +When thus Description sports, even at the time +That drums should beat, and cannons roar in rhyme, 220 +Critics can live on such a fault as that +From one month to the other, and grow fat. + Ye mighty Monthly Judges! in a dearth +Of letter'd blockheads, conscious of the worth +Of my materials, which against your will +Oft you've confess'd, and shall confess it still; +Materials rich, though rude, inflamed with thought, +Though more by Fancy than by Judgment wrought +Take, use them as your own, a work begin +Which suits your genius well, and weave them in, 230 +Framed for the critic loom, with critic art, +Till, thread on thread depending, part on part, +Colour with colour mingling, light with shade, +To your dull taste a formal work is made, +And, having wrought them into one grand piece, +Swear it surpasses Rome, and rivals Greece. + Nor think this much, for at one single word, +Soon as the mighty critic fiat's heard, +Science attends their call; their power is own'd; +Order takes place, and Genius is dethroned: 240 +Letters dance into books, defiance hurl'd +At means, as atoms danced into a world. + Me higher business calls, a greater plan, +Worthy man's whole employ, the good of man, +The good of man committed to my charge: +If idle Fancy rambles forth at large, +Careless of such a trust, these harmless lays +May Friendship envy, and may Folly praise. +The crown of Gotham may some Scot assume, +And vagrant Stuarts reign in Churchill's room! 250 + O my poor People! O thou wretched Earth! +To whose dear love, though not engaged by birth, +My heart is fix'd, my service deeply sworn, +How, (by thy father can that thought be borne?-- +For monarchs, would they all but think like me, +Are only fathers in the best degree) +How must thy glories fade, in every land +Thy name be laugh'd to scorn, thy mighty hand +Be shorten'd, and thy zeal, by foes confess'd, +Bless'd in thyself, to make thy neighbours bless'd, 260 +Be robb'd of vigour; how must Freedom's pile, +The boast of ages, which adorns the isle +And makes it great and glorious, fear'd abroad, +Happy at home, secure from force and fraud; +How must that pile, by ancient Wisdom raised +On a firm rock, by friends admired and praised, +Envied by foes, and wonder'd at by all, +In one short moment into ruins fall, +Should any slip of Stuart's tyrant race, +Or bastard or legitimate, disgrace 270 +Thy royal seat of empire! But what care, +What sorrow must be mine, what deep despair +And self-reproaches, should that hated line +Admittance gain through any fault of mine! +Cursed be the cause whence Gotham's evils spring, +Though that cursed cause be found in Gotham's king. + Let War, with all his needy ruffian band, +In pomp of horror stalk through Gotham's land +Knee-deep in blood; let all her stately towers +Sink in the dust; that court which now is ours 280 +Become a den, where beasts may, if they can, +A lodging find, nor fear rebuke from man; +Where yellow harvests rise, be brambles found; +Where vines now creep, let thistles curse the ground; +Dry in her thousand valleys be the rills; +Barren the cattle on her thousand hills; +Where Power is placed, let tigers prowl for prey; +Where Justice lodges, let wild asses bray; +Let cormorants in churches make their nest, +And on the sails of Commerce bitterns rest; 290 +Be all, though princes in the earth before, +Her merchants bankrupts, and her marts no more; +Much rather would I, might the will of Fate +Give me to choose, see Gotham's ruin'd state +By ills on ills thus to the earth weigh'd down, +Than live to see a Stuart wear a crown. + Let Heaven in vengeance arm all Nature's host, +Those servants who their Maker know, who boast +Obedience as their glory, and fulfil, +Unquestion'd, their great Master's sacred will; 300 +Let raging winds root up the boiling deep, +And, with Destruction big, o'er Gotham sweep; +Let rains rush down, till Faith, with doubtful eye, +Looks for the sign of mercy in the sky; +Let Pestilence in all her horrors rise; +Where'er I turn, let Famine blast my eyes; +Let the earth yawn, and, ere they've time to think, +In the deep gulf let all my subjects sink +Before my eyes, whilst on the verge I reel; +Feeling, but as a monarch ought to feel, 310 +Not for myself, but them, I'll kiss the rod, +And, having own'd the justice of my God, +Myself with firmness to the ruin give, +And die with those for whom I wish to live. + This, (but may Heaven's more merciful decrees +Ne'er tempt his servant with such ills as these!) +This, or my soul deceives me, I could bear; +But that the Stuart race my crown should wear, +That crown, where, highly cherish'd, Freedom shone +Bright as the glories of the midday sun; 320 +Born and bred slaves, that they, with proud misrule, +Should make brave freeborn men, like boys at school, +To the whip crouch and tremble--Oh, that thought! +The labouring brain is e'en to madness brought +By the dread vision; at the mere surmise +The thronging spirits, as in tumult, rise; +My heart, as for a passage, loudly beats, +And, turn me where I will, distraction meets. + O my brave fellows! great in arts and arms, +The wonder of the earth, whom glory warms 330 +To high achievements; can your spirits bend, +Through base control (ye never can descend +So low by choice) to wear a tyrant's chain, +Or let, in Freedom's seat, a Stuart reign? +If Fame, who hath for ages, far and wide, +Spread in all realms the cowardice, the pride, +The tyranny and falsehood of those lords, +Contents you not, search England's fair records; +England, where first the breath of life I drew, +Where, next to Gotham, my best love is due; 340 +There once they ruled, though crush'd by William's hand, +They rule no more, to curse that happy land. + The first,[160] who, from his native soil removed, +Held England's sceptre, a tame tyrant proved: +Virtue he lack'd, cursed with those thoughts which spring +In souls of vulgar stamp, to be a king; +Spirit he had not, though he laugh'd at laws. +To play the bold-faced tyrant with applause; +On practices most mean he raised his pride, +And Craft oft gave what Wisdom oft denied. 350 + Ne'er could he feel how truly man is blest +In blessing those around him; in his breast, +Crowded with follies, Honour found no room; +Mark'd for a coward in his mother's womb, +He was too proud without affronts to live, +Too timorous to punish or forgive. + To gain a crown which had, in course of time, +By fair descent, been his without a crime, +He bore a mother's exile; to secure +A greater crown, he basely could endure 360 +The spilling of her blood by foreign knife, +Nor dared revenge her death who gave him life: +Nay, by fond Pear, and fond Ambition led, +Struck hands with those by whom her blood was shed.[161] + Call'd up to power, scarce warm on England's throne, +He fill'd her court with beggars from his own: +Turn where you would, the eye with Scots was caught, +Or English knaves, who would be Scotsmen thought. +To vain expense unbounded loose he gave, +The dupe of minions, and of slaves the slave; 370 +On false pretences mighty sums he raised, +And damn'd those senates rich, whom poor he praised; +From empire thrown, and doom'd to beg her bread, +On foreign bounty whilst a daughter fed, +He lavish'd sums, for her received, on men +Whose names would fix dishonour on my pen. + Lies were his playthings, parliaments his sport; +Book-worms and catamites engross'd the court: +Vain of the scholar, like all Scotsmen since, +The pedant scholar, he forgot the prince; 380 +And having with some trifles stored his brain, +Ne'er learn'd, nor wish'd to learn, the art to reign. +Enough he knew, to make him vain and proud, +Mock'd by the wise, the wonder of the crowd; +False friend, false son, false father,[162] and false king, +False wit, false statesman, and false everything, +When he should act, he idly chose to prate, +And pamphlets wrote, when he should save the state. + Religious, if religion holds in whim; +To talk with all, he let all talk with him; 390 +Not on God's honour, but his own intent, +Not for religion's sake, but argument; +More vain if some sly, artful High-Dutch slave, +Or, from the Jesuit school, some precious knave +Conviction feign'd, than if, to peace restored +By his full soldiership, worlds hail'd him lord. + Power was his wish, unbounded as his will, +The power, without control, of doing ill; +But what he wish'd, what he made bishops preach, +And statesmen warrant, hung within his reach 400 +He dared not seize; Fear gave, to gall his pride, +That freedom to the realm his will denied. + Of treaties fond, o'erweening of his parts, +In every treaty of his own mean arts +He fell the dupe; peace was his coward care, +E'en at a time when Justice call'd for war: +His pen he'd draw to prove his lack of wit, +But rather than unsheath the sword, submit. +Truth fairly must record; and, pleased to live +In league with Mercy, Justice may forgive 410 +Kingdoms betray'd, and worlds resign'd to Spain, +But never can forgive a Raleigh slain. + At length, (with white let Freedom mark that year) +Not fear'd by those whom most he wish'd to fear, +Not loved by those whom most he wish'd to love, +He went to answer for his faults above; +To answer to that God, from whom alone +He claim'd to hold, and to abuse the throne; +Leaving behind, a curse to all his line, +The bloody legacy of Right Divine.[163] 420 + With many virtues which a radiance fling +Round private men; with few which grace a king, +And speak the monarch; at that time of life +When Passion holds with Reason doubtful strife, +Succeeded Charles, by a mean sire undone, +Who envied virtue even in a son. + His youth was froward, turbulent, and wild; +He took the Man up ere he left the Child; +His soul was eager for imperial sway, +Ere he had learn'd the lesson to obey. 430 +Surrounded by a fawning, flattering throng, +Judgment each day grew weak, and humour strong; +Wisdom was treated as a noisome weed, +And all his follies left to run to seed. + What ills from such beginnings needs must spring! +What ills to such a land from such a king! +What could she hope! what had she not to fear! +Base Buckingham[164] possess'd his youthful ear; +Strafford and Laud, when mounted on the throne, +Engross'd his love, and made him all their own; 440 +Strafford and Laud, who boldly dared avow +The traitorous doctrine taught by Tories now; +Each strove to undo him in his turn and hour, +The first with pleasure, and the last with power. +Thinking (vain thought, disgraceful to the throne!) +That all mankind were made for kings alone; +That subjects were but slaves; and what was whim, +Or worse, in common men, was law in him; +Drunk with Prerogative, which Fate decreed +To guard good kings, and tyrants to mislead; 450 +Which in a fair proportion to deny +Allegiance dares not; which to hold too high, +No good can wish, no coward king can dare, +And, held too high, no English subject bear; +Besieged by men of deep and subtle arts, +Men void of principle, and damn'd with parts, +Who saw his weakness, made their king their tool, +Then most a slave, when most he seem'd to rule; +Taking all public steps for private ends, +Deceived by favourites, whom he called friends, 460 +He had not strength enough of soul to find +That monarchs, meant as blessings to mankind, +Sink their great state, and stamp their fame undone, +When what was meant for all, they give to one. +Listening uxorious whilst a woman's prate[165] +Modell'd the church, and parcell'd out the state, +Whilst (in the state not more than women read) +High-churchmen preach'd, and turn'd his pious head; +Tutor'd to see with ministerial eyes; +Forbid to hear a loyal nation's cries; 470 +Made to believe (what can't a favourite do?) +He heard a nation, hearing one or two; +Taught by state-quacks himself secure to think, +And out of danger e'en on danger's brink; +Whilst power was daily crumbling from his hand, +Whilst murmurs ran through an insulted land, +As if to sanction tyrants Heaven was bound, +He proudly sought the ruin which he found. + Twelve years, twelve tedious and inglorious years,[166] +Did England, crush'd by power, and awed by fears, 480 +Whilst proud Oppression struck at Freedom's root, +Lament her senates lost, her Hampden mute. +Illegal taxes and oppressive loans, +In spite of all her pride, call'd forth her groans; +Patience was heard her griefs aloud to tell, +And Loyalty was tempted to rebel. + Each day new acts of outrage shook the state, +New courts were raised to give new doctrines weight; +State inquisitions kept the realm in awe, +And cursed Star-Chambers made or ruled the law; 490 +Juries were pack'd, and judges were unsound; +Through the whole kingdom not one Pratt was found. + From the first moments of his giddy youth +He hated senates, for they told him truth. +At length, against his will compell'd to treat, +Those whom he could not fright, he strove to cheat; +With base dissembling every grievance heard, +And, often giving, often broke his word. +Oh, where shall hapless Truth for refuge fly, +If kings, who should protect her, dare to lie? 500 + Those who, the general good their real aim, +Sought in their country's good their monarch's fame; +Those who were anxious for his safety; those +Who were induced by duty to oppose, +Their truth suspected, and their worth unknown, +He held as foes and traitors to his throne; +Nor found his fatal error till the hour +Of saving him was gone and past; till power +Had shifted hands, to blast his hapless reign, +Making their faith and his repentance vain. 510 + Hence (be that curse confined to Gotham's foes!) +War, dread to mention, Civil War arose; +All acts of outrage, and all acts of shame, +Stalk'd forth at large, disguised with Honour's name; +Rebellion, raising high her bloody hand, +Spread universal havoc through the land; +With zeal for party, and with passion drunk, +In public rage all private love was sunk; +Friend against friend, brother 'gainst brother stood, +And the son's weapon drank the father's blood; 520 +Nature, aghast, and fearful lest her reign +Should last no longer, bled in every vein. + Unhappy Stuart! harshly though that name +Grates on my ear, I should have died with shame +To see my king before his subjects stand, +And at their bar hold up his royal hand; +At their commands to hear the monarch plead, +By their decrees to see that monarch bleed. +What though thy faults were many and were great? +What though they shook the basis of the state? 530 +In royalty secure thy person stood, +And sacred was the fountain of thy blood. +Vile ministers, who dared abuse their trust, +Who dared seduce a king to be unjust, +Vengeance, with Justice leagued, with Power made strong, +Had nobly crush'd--'The king could do no wrong.' + Yet grieve not, Charles! nor thy hard fortunes blame; +They took thy life, but they secured thy fame. +Their greatest crimes made thine like specks appear, +From which the sun in glory is not clear. 540 +Hadst thou in peace and years resign'd thy breath +At Nature's call; hadst thou laid down in death +As in a sleep, thy name, by Justice borne +On the four winds, had been in pieces torn. +Pity, the virtue of a generous soul, +Sometimes the vice, hath made thy memory whole. +Misfortunes gave what Virtue could not give, +And bade, the tyrant slain, the martyr live. + Ye Princes of the earth! ye mighty few! +Who, worlds subduing, can't yourselves subdue; 550 +Who, goodness scorn'd, wish only to be great; +Whose breath is blasting, and whose voice is fate; +Who own no law, no reason, but your will, +And scorn restraint, though 'tis from doing ill; +Who of all passions groan beneath the worst, +Then only bless'd when they make others cursed; +Think not, for wrongs like these, unscourged to live; +Long may ye sin, and long may Heaven forgive; +But when ye least expect, in sorrow's day, +Vengeance shall fall more heavy for delay; 560 +Nor think that vengeance heap'd on you alone +Shall (poor amends!) for injured worlds atone; +No, like some base distemper, which remains, +Transmitted from the tainted father's veins, +In the son's blood, such broad and general crimes +Shall call down vengeance e'en to latest times, +Call vengeance down on all who bear your name, +And make their portion bitterness and shame. + From land to land for years compell'd to roam, +Whilst Usurpation lorded it at home, 570 +Of majesty unmindful, forced to fly, +Not daring, like a king, to reign or die, +Recall'd to repossess his lawful throne, +More at his people's seeking than his own, +Another Charles succeeded. In the school +Of Travel he had learn'd to play the fool; +And, like pert pupils with dull tutors sent +To shame their country on the Continent, +From love of England by long absence wean'd, +From every court he every folly glean'd, 580 +And was--so close do evil habits cling-- +Till crown'd, a beggar; and when crown'd, no king. + Those grand and general powers, which Heaven design'd, +An instance of his mercy to mankind, +Were lost, in storms of dissipation hurl'd, +Nor would he give one hour to bless a world; +Lighter than levity which strides the blast, +And, of the present fond, forgets the past, +He changed and changed, but, every hope to curse, +Changed only from one folly to a worse: 590 +State he resign'd to those whom state could please; +Careless of majesty, his wish was ease; +Pleasure, and pleasure only, was his aim; +Kings of less wit might hunt the bubble Fame; +Dignity through his reign was made a sport, +Nor dared Decorum show her face at court; +Morality was held a standing jest, +And Faith a necessary fraud at best. +Courtiers, their monarch ever in their view, +Possess'd great talents, and abused them too; 600 +Whate'er was light, impertinent, and vain, +Whate'er was loose, indecent, and profane, +(So ripe was Folly, Folly to acquit) +Stood all absolved in that poor bauble, Wit. + In gratitude, alas! but little read, +He let his father's servants beg their bread-- +His father's faithful servants, and his own, +To place the foes of both around his throne. + Bad counsels he embraced through indolence, +Through love of ease, and not through want of sense; 610 +He saw them wrong, but rather let them go +As right, than take the pains to make them so. +Women ruled all, and ministers of state +Were for commands at toilets forced to wait: +Women, who have, as monarchs, graced the land, +But never govern'd well at second-hand. + To make all other errors slight appear, +In memory fix'd, stand Dunkirk[167] and Tangier;[168] +In memory fix'd so deep, that Time in vain +Shall strive to wipe those records from the brain, 620 +Amboyna[169] stands--Gods! that a king could hold +In such high estimate vile paltry gold, +And of his duty be so careless found, +That when the blood of subjects from the ground +For vengeance call'd, he should reject their cry, +And, bribed from honour, lay his thunders by, +Give Holland peace, whilst English victims groan'd, +And butcher'd subjects wander'd unatoned! +Oh, dear, deep injury to England's fame, +To them, to us, to all! to him deep shame! 630 +Of all the passions which from frailty spring, +Avarice is that which least becomes a king. + To crown the whole, scorning the public good, +Which through his reign he little understood, +Or little heeded, with too narrow aim +He reassumed a bigot brother's claim, +And having made time-serving senates bow, +Suddenly died--that brother best knew how. + No matter how--he slept amongst the dead, +And James his brother reigned in his stead: 640 +But such a reign--so glaring an offence +In every step 'gainst freedom, law, and sense, +'Gainst all the rights of Nature's general plan, +'Gainst all which constitutes an Englishman, +That the relation would mere fiction seem, +The mock creation of a poet's dream; +And the poor bards would, in this sceptic age, +Appear as false as _their_ historian's page. + Ambitious Folly seized the seat of Wit, +Christians were forced by bigots to submit; 650 +Pride without sense, without religion Zeal, +Made daring inroads on the Commonweal; +Stern Persecution raised her iron rod, +And call'd the pride of kings, the power of God; +Conscience and Fame were sacrificed to Rome, +And England wept at Freedom's sacred tomb. + Her laws despised, her constitution wrench'd +From its due natural frame, her rights retrench'd +Beyond a coward's sufferance, conscience forced, +And healing Justice from the Crown divorced, 660 +Each moment pregnant with vile acts of power, +Her patriot Bishops sentenced to the Tower, +Her Oxford (who yet loves the Stuart name) +Branded with arbitrary marks of shame, +She wept--but wept not long: to arms she flew, +At Honour's call the avenging sword she drew, +Turn'd all her terrors on the tyrant's head, +And sent him in despair to beg his bread; +Whilst she, (may every State in such distress +Dare with such zeal, and meet with such success!) 670 +Whilst she, (may Gotham, should my abject mind +Choose to enslave rather than free mankind, +Pursue her steps, tear the proud tyrant down, +Nor let me wear if I abuse the crown!) +Whilst she, (through every age, in every land, +Written in gold, let Revolution stand!) +Whilst she, secured in liberty and law, +Found what she sought, a saviour in Nassau. + + +Book III + + +Can the fond mother from herself depart?[170] +Can she forget the darling of her heart, +The little darling whom she bore and bred, +Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed; +To whom she seem'd her every thought to give, +And in whose life alone she seem'd to live? +Yes, from herself the mother may depart, +She may forget the darling of her heart, +The little darling whom she bore and bred, +Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed, 10 +To whom she seem'd her every thought to give, +And in whose life alone she seem'd to live; +But I cannot forget, whilst life remains, +And pours her current through these swelling veins, +Whilst Memory offers up at Reason's shrine; +But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine. + Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild, +From her disnatured breast tear her young child, +Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone, +And dash the smiling babe against a stone? 20 +Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild, +From her disnatured breast may tear her child, +Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone, +And dash the smiling babe against a stone; +But I, (forbid it, Heaven!) but I can ne'er +The love of Gotham from this bosom tear; +Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert +From its fair course, to do my people hurt. + With how much ease, with how much confidence-- +As if, superior to each grosser sense, 30 +Reason had only, in full power array'd, +To manifest her will, and be obey'd-- +Men make resolves, and pass into decrees +The motions of the mind! with how much ease, +In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw, +And bring to nothing what was raised to law! + In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne, +The dangers and the sweets of power unknown, +Pleased, though I scarce know why, like some young child, +Whose little senses each new toy turns wild, 40 +How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown, +And wanton with dominion, how lay down, +Without the sanction of a precedent, +Rules of most large and absolute extent; +Rules, which from sense of public virtue spring, +And all at once commence a Patriot King! + But, for the day of trial is at hand, +And the whole fortunes of a mighty land +Are staked on me, and all their weal or woe +Must from my good or evil conduct flow, 50 +Will I, or can I, on a fair review, +As I assume that name, deserve it too? +Have I well weigh'd the great, the noble part +I'm now to play? have I explored my heart, +That labyrinth of fraud, that deep dark cell, +Where, unsuspected e'en by me, may dwell +Ten thousand follies? have I found out there +What I am fit to do, and what to bear? +Have I traced every passion to its rise, +Nor spared one lurking seed of treacherous vice? 60 +Have I familiar with my nature grown? +And am I fairly to myself made known? +A Patriot King!--why, 'tis a name which bears +The more immediate stamp of Heaven; which wears +The nearest, best resemblance we can show +Of God above, through all his works below. + To still the voice of Discord in the land; +To make weak Faction's discontented band, +Detected, weak, and crumbling to decay, +With hunger pinch'd, on their own vitals prey; 70 +Like brethren, in the self-same interests warm'd, +Like different bodies, with one soul inform'd; +To make a nation, nobly raised above +All meaner thought, grow up in common love; +To give the laws due vigour, and to hold +That secret balance, temperate, yet bold, +With such an equal hand, that those who fear +May yet approve, and own my justice clear; +To be a common father, to secure +The weak from violence, from pride the poor; 80 +Vice and her sons to banish in disgrace, +To make Corruption dread to show her face; +To bid afflicted Virtue take new state, +And be at last acquainted with the great; +Of all religions to elect the best, +Nor let her priests be made a standing jest; +Rewards for worth with liberal hand to carve, +To love the arts, nor let the artists starve; +To make fair Plenty through the realm increase, +Give fame in war, and happiness in peace; 90 +To see my people virtuous, great, and free, +And know that all those blessings flow from me; +Oh! 'tis a joy too exquisite, a thought +Which flatters Nature more than flattery ought; +'Tis a great, glorious task, for man too hard; +But no less great, less glorious the reward, +The best reward which here to man is given, +'Tis more than earth, and little short of heaven; +A task (if such comparison may be) +The same in Nature, differing in degree, 100 +Like that which God, on whom for aid I call, +Performs with ease, and yet performs to all. + How much do they mistake, how little know +Of kings, of kingdoms, and the pains which flow +From royalty, who fancy that a crown, +Because it glistens, must be lined with down! +With outside show, and vain appearance caught, +They look no further, and, by Folly taught, +Prize high the toys of thrones, but never find +One of the many cares which lurk behind. 110 +The gem they worship which a crown adorns, +Nor once suspect that crown is lined with thorns. +Oh, might Reflection Folly's place supply, +Would we one moment use her piercing eye, +Then should we find what woe from grandeur springs, +And learn to pity, not to envy kings! + The villager, born humbly and bred hard, +Content his wealth, and Poverty his guard, +In action simply just, in conscience clear, +By guilt untainted, undisturb'd by fear, 120 +His means but scanty, and his wants but few, +Labour his business, and his pleasure too, +Enjoys more comforts in a single hour +Than ages give the wretch condemn'd to power. + Call'd up by health, he rises with the day, +And goes to work, as if he went to play, +Whistling off toils, one half of which might make +The stoutest Atlas of a palace quake; +'Gainst heat and cold, which make us cowards faint, +Harden'd by constant use, without complaint 130 +He bears what we should think it death to bear; +Short are his meals, and homely is his fare; +His thirst he slakes at some pure neighbouring brook, +Nor asks for sauce where appetite stands cook. +When the dews fall, and when the sun retires +Behind the mountains, when the village fires, +Which, waken'd all at once, speak supper nigh, +At distance catch, and fix his longing eye, +Homeward he hies, and with his manly brood +Of raw-boned cubs enjoys that clean, coarse food, 140 +Which, season'd with good-humour, his fond bride +'Gainst his return is happy to provide; +Then, free from care, and free from thought, he creeps +Into his straw, and till the morning sleeps. + Not so the king--with anxious cares oppress'd +His bosom labours, and admits not rest: +A glorious wretch, he sweats beneath the weight +Of majesty, and gives up ease for state. +E'en when his smiles, which, by the fools of pride, +Are treasured and preserved from side to side, 150 +Fly round the court, e'en when, compell'd by form, +He seems most calm, his soul is in a storm. +Care, like a spectre, seen by him alone, +With all her nest of vipers, round his throne +By day crawls full in view; when Night bids sleep, +Sweet nurse of Nature! o'er the senses creep; +When Misery herself no more complains, +And slaves, if possible, forget their chains; +Though his sense weakens, though his eyes grow dim, +That rest which comes to all, comes not to him. 160 +E'en at that hour, Care, tyrant Care, forbids +The dew of sleep to fall upon his lids; +From night to night she watches at his bed; +Now, as one moped, sits brooding o'er his head; +Anon she starts, and, borne on raven's wings, +Croaks forth aloud--'Sleep was not made for kings!' + Thrice hath the moon, who governs this vast ball, +Who rules most absolute o'er me and all; +To whom, by full conviction taught to bow, +At new, at full, I pay the duteous vow; 170 +Thrice hath the moon her wonted course pursued, +Thrice hath she lost her form, and thrice renew'd, +Since, (bless'd be that season, for before +I was a mere, mere mortal, and no more, +One of the herd, a lump of common clay, +Inform'd with life, to die and pass away) +Since I became a king, and Gotham's throne, +With full and ample power, became my own; +Thrice hath the moon her wonted course pursued, +Thrice hath she lost her form, and thrice renew'd, 180 +Since sleep, kind sleep! who like a friend supplies +New vigour for new toil, hath closed these eyes. +Nor, if my toils are answer'd with success, +And I am made an instrument to bless +The people whom I love, shall I repine; +Theirs be the benefit, the labour mine. + Mindful of that high rank in which I stand, +Of millions lord, sole ruler in the land, +Let me,--and Reason shall her aid afford,-- +Rule my own spirit, of myself be lord. 190 +With an ill grace that monarch wears his crown, +Who, stern and hard of nature, wears a frown +'Gainst faults in other men, yet all the while +Meets his own vices with a partial smile. +How can a king (yet on record we find +Such kings have been, such curses of mankind) +Enforce that law 'gainst some poor subject elf +Which conscience tells him he hath broke himself? +Can he some petty rogue to justice call +For robbing one, when he himself robs all? 200 +Must not, unless extinguish'd, Conscience fly +Into his cheek, and blast his fading eye, +To scourge the oppressor, when the State, distress'd +And sunk to ruin, is by him oppress'd? +Against himself doth he not sentence give; +If one must die, t' other's not fit to live. + Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, +Which takes not solid virtue for its ground. +All envy power in others, and complain +Of that which they would perish to obtain. 210 +Nor can those spirits, turbulent and bold, +Not to be awed by threats, nor bought with gold, +Be hush'd to peace, but when fair legal sway +Makes it their real interest to obey; +When kings, and none but fools can then rebel, +Not less in virtue, than in power, excel. + Be that my object, that my constant care, +And may my soul's best wishes centre there; +Be it my task to seek, nor seek in vain, +Not only how to live, but how to reign; 220 +And to those virtues which from Reason spring, +And grace the man, join those which grace the king. + First, (for strict duty bids my care extend +And reach to all who on that care depend, +Bids me with servants keep a steady hand, +And watch o'er all my proxies in the land) +First, (and that method Reason shall support) +Before I look into, and purge my court, +Before I cleanse the stable of the State, +Let me fix things which to myself relate. 230 +That done, and all accounts well settled here, +In resolution firm, in honour clear, +Tremble, ye slaves! who dare abuse your trust, +Who dare be villains, when your king is just. + Are there, amongst those officers of state, +To whom our sacred power we delegate, +Who hold our place and office in the realm, +Who, in our name commission'd, guide the helm; +Are there, who, trusting to our love of ease, +Oppress our subjects, wrest our just decrees, 240 +And make the laws, warp'd from their fair intent, +To speak a language which they never meant; +Are there such men, and can the fools depend +On holding out in safety to their end? +Can they so much, from thoughts of danger free, +Deceive themselves, so much misdeem of me, +To think that I will prove a statesman's tool, +And live a stranger where I ought to rule? +What! to myself and to my state unjust, +Shall I from ministers take things on trust, 250 +And, sinking low the credit of my throne, +Depend upon dependants of my own? +Shall I,--most certain source of future cares,-- +Not use my judgment, but depend on theirs? +Shall I, true puppet-like, be mock'd with state, +Have nothing but the name of being great; +Attend at councils which I must not weigh; +Do what they bid, and what they dictate, say; +Enrobed, and hoisted up into my chair, +Only to be a royal cipher there? 260 +Perish the thought--'tis treason to my throne-- +And who but thinks it, could his thoughts be known +Insults me more than he, who, leagued with Hell, +Shall rise in arms, and 'gainst my crown rebel. + The wicked statesman, whose false heart pursues +A train of guilt; who acts with double views, +And wears a double face; whose base designs +Strike at his monarch's throne; who undermines +E'en whilst he seems his wishes to support; +Who seizes all departments; packs a court; 270 +Maintains an agent on the judgment-seat, +To screen his crimes, and make his frauds complete; +New-models armies, and around the throne +Will suffer none but creatures of his own, +Conscious of such his baseness, well may try, +Against the light to shut his master's eye, +To keep him coop'd, and far removed from those +Who, brave and honest, dare his crimes disclose, +Nor ever let him in one place appear, +Where truth, unwelcome truth, may wound his ear. 280 + Attempts like these, well weigh'd, themselves proclaim, +And, whilst they publish, balk their author's aim. +Kings must be blind into such snares to run, +Or, worse, with open eyes must be undone. +The minister of honesty and worth +Demands the day to bring his actions forth; +Calls on the sun to shine with fiercer rays, +And braves that trial which must end in praise. +None fly the day, and seek the shades of night, +But those whose actions cannot bear the light; 290 +None wish their king in ignorance to hold +But those who feel that knowledge must unfold +Their hidden guilt; and, that dark mist dispell'd +By which their places and their lives are held, +Confusion wait them, and, by Justice led, +In vengeance fall on every traitor's head. + Aware of this, and caution'd 'gainst the pit +Where kings have oft been lost, shall I submit, +And rust in chains like these? shall I give way, +And whilst my helpless subjects fall a prey 300 +To power abused, in ignorance sit down, +Nor dare assert the honour of my crown? +When stern Rebellion, (if that odious name +Justly belongs to those whose only aim, +Is to preserve their country; who oppose, +In honour leagued, none but their country's foes; +Who only seek their own, and found their cause +In due regard for violated laws) +When stern Rebellion, who no longer feels +Nor fears rebuke, a nation at her heels, 310 +A nation up in arms, though strong not proud, +Knocks at the palace gate, and, calling loud +For due redress, presents, from Truth's fair pen, +A list of wrongs, not to be borne by men: +How must that king be humbled, how disgrace +All that is royal in his name and place, +Who, thus call'd forth to answer, can advance +No other plea but that of ignorance! +A vile defence, which, was his all at stake, +The meanest subject well might blush to make; 320 +A filthy source, from whence shame ever springs; +A stain to all, but most a stain to kings. +The soul with great and manly feelings warm'd, +Panting for knowledge, rests not till inform'd; +And shall not I, fired with the glorious zeal, +Feel those brave passions which my subjects feel? +Or can a just excuse from ignorance flow +To me, whose first great duty is--to know? + Hence, Ignorance!--thy settled, dull, blank eye +Would hurt me, though I knew no reason why. 330 +Hence, Ignorance!--thy slavish shackles bind +The free-born soul, and lethargise the mind. +Of thee, begot by Pride, who look'd with scorn +On every meaner match, of thee was born +That grave inflexibility of soul, +Which Reason can't convince, nor Fear control; +Which neither arguments nor prayers can reach, +And nothing less than utter ruin teach. +Hence, Ignorance!--hence to that depth of night +Where thou wast born, where not one gleam of light 340 +May wound thine eye--hence to some dreary cell +Where monks with superstition love to dwell; +Or in some college soothe thy lazy pride, +And with the heads of colleges reside; +Fit mate for Royalty thou canst not be, +And if no mate for kings, no mate for me. + Come, Study! like a torrent swell'd with rains, +Which, rushing down the mountains, o'er the plains +Spreads horror wide, and yet, in horror kind, +Leaves seeds of future fruitfulness behind; 350 +Come, Study!--painful though thy course, and slow, +Thy real worth by thy effects we know-- +Parent of Knowledge, come!--Not thee I call, +Who, grave and dull, in college or in hall +Dost sit, all solemn sad, and moping weigh +Things which, when found, thy labours can't repay-- +Nor, in one hand, fit emblem of thy trade, +A rod; in t' other, gaudily array'd, +A hornbook gilt and letter'd, call I thee, +Who dost in form preside o'er A, B, C: 360 +Nor (siren though thou art, and thy strange charms, +As 'twere by magic, lure men to thine arms) +Do I call thee, who, through a winding maze, +A labyrinth of puzzling, pleasing ways, +Dost lead us at the last to those rich plains, +Where, in full glory, real Science reigns; +Fair though thou art, and lovely to mine eye, +Though full rewards in thy possession lie +To crown man's wish, and do thy favourites grace; +Though (was I station'd in an humbler place) 370 +I could be ever happy in thy sight, +Toil with thee all the day, and through the night, +Toil on from watch to watch, bidding my eye, +Fast rivetted on Science, sleep defy; +Yet (such the hardships which from empire flow) +Must I thy sweet society forego, +And to some happy rival's arms resign +Those charms which can, alas! no more be mine! + No more from hour to hour, from day to day, +Shall I pursue thy steps, and urge my way 380 +Where eager love of science calls; no more +Attempt those paths which man ne'er trod before; +No more, the mountain scaled, the desert cross'd, +Losing myself, nor knowing I was lost, +Travel through woods, through wilds, from morn to night, +From night to morn, yet travel with delight, +And having found thee, lay me down content, +Own all my toil well paid, my time well spent. + Farewell, ye Muses too!--for such mean things +Must not presume to dwell with mighty kings-- 390 +Farewell, ye Muses! though it cuts my heart +E'en to the quick, we must for ever part. + When the fresh morn bade lusty Nature wake; +When the birds, sweetly twittering through the brake, +Tune their soft pipes; when, from the neighbouring bloom +Sipping the dew, each zephyr stole perfume; +When all things with new vigour were inspired, +And seem'd to say they never could be tired; +How often have we stray'd, whilst sportive rhyme +Deceived the way and clipp'd the wings of Time, 400 +O'er hill, o'er dale; how often laugh'd to see, +Yourselves made visible to none but me, +The clown, his works suspended, gape and stare, +And seem to think that I conversed with air! + When the sun, beating on the parched soil, +Seem'd to proclaim an interval of toil; +When a faint langour crept through every breast, +And things most used to labour wish'd for rest, +How often, underneath a reverend oak, +Where safe, and fearless of the impious stroke, 410 +Some sacred Dryad lived; or in some grove, +Where, with capricious fingers, Fancy wove +Her fairy bower, whilst Nature all the while +Look'd on, and view'd her mockeries with a smile, +Have we held converse sweet! How often laid, +Fast by the Thames, in Ham's inspiring shade, +Amongst those poets which make up your train, +And, after death, pour forth the sacred strain, +Have I, at your command, in verse grown gray, +But not impair'd, heard Dryden tune that lay 420 +Which might have drawn an angel from his sphere, +And kept him from his office listening here! + When dreary Night, with Morpheus in her train, +Led on by Silence to resume her reign, +With darkness covering, as with a robe, +The scene of levity, blank'd half the globe; +How oft, enchanted with your heavenly strains, +Which stole me from myself; which in soft chains +Of music bound my soul; how oft have I, +Sounds more than human floating through the sky, 430 +Attentive sat, whilst Night, against her will, +Transported with the harmony, stood still! +How oft in raptures, which man scarce could bear, +Have I, when gone, still thought the Muses there; +Still heard their music, and, as mute as death, +Sat all attention, drew in every breath, +Lest, breathing all too rudely, I should wound, +And mar that magic excellence of sound; +Then, Sense returning with return of day, +Have chid the Night, which fled so fast away! 440 + Such my pursuits, and such my joys of yore, +Such were my mates, but now my mates no more. +Placed out of Envy's walk, (for Envy, sure, +Would never haunt the cottage of the poor, +Would never stoop to wound my homespun lays) +With some few friends, and some small share of praise, +Beneath oppression, undisturb'd by strife, +In peace I trod the humble vale of life. +Farewell, these scenes of ease, this tranquil state; +Welcome the troubles which on empire wait! 450 +Light toys from this day forth I disavow; +They pleased me once, but cannot suit me now: +To common men all common things are free, +What honours them, might fix disgrace on me. +Call'd to a throne, and o'er a mighty land +Ordain'd to rule, my head, my heart, my hand, +Are all engross'd; each private view withstood, +And task'd to labour for the public good: +Be this my study; to this one great end +May every thought, may every action tend! 460 + Let me the page of History turn o'er, +The instructive page, and needfully explore +What faithful pens of former times have wrote +Of former kings; what they did worthy note, +What worthy blame; and from the sacred tomb +Where righteous monarchs sleep, where laurels bloom, +Unhurt by Time, let me a garland twine, +Which, robbing not their fame, may add to mine. + Nor let me with a vain and idle eye +Glance o'er those scenes, and in a hurry fly, 470 +Quick as the post, which travels day and night; +Nor let me dwell there, lured by false delight; +And, into barren theory betray'd, +Forget that monarchs are for action made. +When amorous Spring, repairing all his charms, +Calls Nature forth from hoary Winter's arms, +Where, like a virgin to some lecher sold, +Three wretched months she lay benumb'd, and cold; +When the weak flower, which, shrinking from the breath +Of the rude North, and timorous of death, 480 +To its kind mother earth for shelter fled, +And on her bosom hid its tender head, +Peeps forth afresh, and, cheer'd by milder sties, +Bids in full splendour all her beauties rise; +The hive is up in arms--expert to teach, +Nor, proudly, to be taught unwilling, each +Seems from her fellow a new zeal to catch; +Strength in her limbs, and on her wings dispatch, +The bee goes forth; from herb to herb she flies, +From flower to flower, and loads her labouring thighs 490 +With treasured sweets, robbing those flowers, which, left, +Find not themselves made poorer by the theft, +Their scents as lively, and their looks as fair, +As if the pillager had not been there. +Ne'er doth she flit on Pleasure's silken wing; +Ne'er doth she, loitering, let the bloom of Spring +Unrifled pass, and on the downy breast +Of some fair flower indulge untimely rest; +Ne'er doth she, drinking deep of those rich dews +Which chemist Night prepared, that faith abuse 500 +Due to the hive, and, selfish in her toils, +To her own private use convert the spoils. +Love of the stock first call'd her forth to roam, +And to the stock she brings her booty home. + Be this my pattern--as becomes a king, +Let me fly all abroad on Reason's wing; +Let mine eye, like the lightning, through the earth +Run to and fro, nor let one deed of worth, +In any place and time, nor let one man, +Whose actions may enrich dominion's plan, 510 +Escape my note; be all, from the first day +Of Nature to this hour, be all my prey. +From those whom Time, at the desire of Fame, +Hath spared, let Virtue catch an equal flame; +From those who, not in mercy, but in rage, +Time hath reprieved, to damn from age to age, +Let me take warning, lesson'd to distil, +And, imitating Heaven, draw good from ill. +Nor let these great researches, in my breast +A monument of useless labour rest; 520 +No--let them spread--the effects let Gotham share, +And reap the harvest of their monarch's care: +Be other times, and other countries known, +Only to give fresh blessings to my own. + Let me, (and may that God to whom I fly, +On whom for needful succour I rely +In this great hour, that glorious God of truth, +Through whom I reign, in mercy to my youth, +Assist my weakness, and direct me right; +From every speck which hangs upon the sight 530 +Purge my mind's eye, nor let one cloud remain +To spread the shades of Error o'er my brain!) +Let me, impartial, with unwearied thought, +Try men and things; let me, as monarchs ought, +Examine well on what my power depends; +What are the general principles and ends +Of government; how empire first began; +And wherefore man was raised to reign o'er man. + Let me consider, as from one great source +We see a thousand rivers take their course, 540 +Dispersed, and into different channels led, +Yet by their parent still supplied and fed, +That Government, (though branch'd out far and wide, +In various modes to various lands applied) +Howe'er it differs in its outward frame, +In the main groundwork's every where the same; +The same her view, though different her plan, +Her grand and general view--the good of man. +Let me find out, by Reason's sacred beams, +What system in itself most perfect seems, 550 +Most worthy man, most likely to conduce +To all the purposes of general use; +Let me find, too, where, by fair Reason tried, +It fails, when to particulars applied; +Why in that mode all nations do not join, +And, chiefly, why it cannot suit with mine. + Let me the gradual rise of empires trace, +Till they seem founded on Perfection's base; +Then (for when human things have made their way +To excellence, they hasten to decay) 560 +Let me, whilst Observation lends her clue +Step after step to their decline pursue, +Enabled by a chain of facts to tell +Not only how they rose, but why they fell. + Let me not only the distempers know +Which in all states from common causes grow, +But likewise those, which, by the will of Fate, +On each peculiar mode of empire wait; +Which in its very constitution lurk, +Too sure at last to do its destined work: 570 +Let me, forewarn'd, each sign, each symptom learn, +That I my people's danger may discern, +Ere 'tis too late wish'd health to reassure, +And, if it can be found, find out a cure. + Let me, (though great, grave brethren of the gown +Preach all Faith up, and preach all Reason down, +Making those jar whom Reason meant to join, +And vesting in themselves a right divine), +Let me, through Reason's glass, with searching eye, +Into the depth of that religion pry 580 +Which law hath sanction'd; let me find out there +What's form, what's essence; what, like vagrant air, +We well may change; and what, without a crime, +Cannot be changed to the last hour of time. +Nor let me suffer that outrageous zeal +Which, without knowledge, furious bigots feel, +Fair in pretence, though at the heart unsound, +These separate points at random to confound. + The times have been when priests have dared to tread, +Proud and insulting, on their monarch's head; 590 +When, whilst they made religion a pretence, +Out of the world they banish'd common-sense; +When some soft king, too open to deceit, +Easy and unsuspecting join'd the cheat, +Duped by mock piety, and gave his name +To serve the vilest purposes of shame. +Pear not, my people! where no cause of fear +Can justly rise--your king secures you here; +Your king, who scorns the haughty prelate's nod, +Nor deems the voice of priests the voice of God. 600 + Let me, (though lawyers may perhaps forbid +Their monarch to behold what they wish hid, +And for the purposes of knavish gain, +Would have their trade a mystery remain) +Let me, disdaining all such slavish awe, +Dive to the very bottom of the law; +Let me (the weak, dead letter left behind) +Search out the principles, the spirit find, +Till, from the parts, made master of the whole, +I see the Constitution's very soul. 610 + Let me, (though statesmen will no doubt resist, +And to my eyes present a fearful list +Of men, whose wills are opposite to mine, +Of men, great men, determined to resign) +Let me, (with firmness, which becomes a king. +Conscious from what a source my actions spring, +Determined not by worlds to be withstood, +When my grand object is my country's good) +Unravel all low ministerial scenes, +Destroy their jobs, lay bare their ways and means, 620 +And track them step by step; let me well know +How places, pensions, and preferments go; +Why Guilt's provided for when Worth is not, +And why one man of merit is forgot; +Let me in peace, in war, supreme preside, +And dare to know my way without a guide. + Let me, (though Dignity, by nature proud, +Retires from view, and swells behind a cloud,-- +As if the sun shone with less powerful ray, +Less grace, less glory, shining every day,-- 630 +Though when she comes forth into public sight, +Unbending as a ghost, she stalks upright, +With such an air as we have often seen, +And often laugh'd at, in a tragic queen, +Nor, at her presence, though base myriads crook +The supple knee, vouchsafes a single look) +Let me, (all vain parade, all empty pride, +All terrors of dominion laid aside, +All ornament, and needless helps of art, +All those big looks, which speak a little heart) 640 +Know (which few kings, alas! have ever known) +How Affability becomes a throne, +Destroys all fear, bids Love with Reverence live, +And gives those graces Pride can never give. +Let the stern tyrant keep a distant state, +And, hating all men, fear return of hate, +Conscious of guilt, retreat behind his throne, +Secure from all upbraidings but his own: +Let all my subjects have access to me, +Be my ears open, as my heart is free; 650 +In full fair tide let information flow; +That evil is half cured, whose cause we know. + And thou, where'er thou art, thou wretched thing, +Who art afraid to look up to a king, +Lay by thy fears; make but thy grievance plain, +And, if I not redress thee, may my reign +Close up that very moment. To prevent +The course of Justice from her vain intent, +In vain my nearest, dearest friend shall plead, +In vain my mother kneel; my soul may bleed, 660 +But must not change. When Justice draws the dart, +Though it is doom'd to pierce a favourite's heart, +'Tis mine to give it force, to give it aim-- +I know it duty, and I feel it fame. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [148] 'Gotham:' is designed as a satire on England and its kings, and + as a picture of what a king of England should be. The first book is a + wild and fanciful bravura. + + [149] 'Mandeville:' the famous lying traveller. + + [150] 'Monmouth:' in Wales, once visited, and ever afterwards hated by + the poet. + + [151] 'Bonnell Thornton:' author of a humorous burlesque, 'Ode on St + Cecilia's Day.' See Boswell. + + [152] 'William Boyce:' a celebrated musician. + + [153] 'Hayman:' Francis Hayman, the painter, was monotonous in his + style. + + [154] 'Saint James:' The 25th of July, St James's day, or the first day + of oysters. + + [155] 'August:' alluding to a rowing match, held on 1st August, in + honour of George the First's accession; instituted by one Doggett, an + actor, &c. + + [156] 'George:' George the Second was born on the 30th of October 1683. + + [157] 'Augusta:' wife of Frederic, Prince of Wales, a great friend of + Lord Bute's. + + [159] 'Colonel Norborne Berkeley:' second to Lord Talbot in his duel + with Wilkes. + + [160] 'First:' James the First. + + [161] 'Blood was shed:' Secretary Cecil, who had been a bitter foe of + Queen Mary, and became a favourite of James. + + [162] 'False father:' alluding to the death of the very promising + Prince Henry, popularly supposed to have been hated and removed by + his father. + + [163] 'Right Divine:' see, as a _per contra_ to this fierce invective + against poor 'King Jamie,' Scott's 'Fortunes of Nigel.' + + [164] 'Buckingham:' George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. + + [165] 'Woman's prate:' Henrietta, the intriguing Queen of Charles the + First. + + [166] 'Inglorious years:' no parliament was summoned from 1628 to 1640. + + [167] 'Dunkirk:' Dunkirk was, in 1662, sold by Charles the Second to + the French for £400,000. + + [168] 'Tangier:' Tangier, in Africa, was also shamefully sacrificed + by Charles the Second. + + [169] 'Amboyna:' where the Dutch inflicted dreadful and unavenged + cruelties on the English. This happened, however, in 1622, under James + the First, not Charles the Second. + + [170] Isa. xlix. 15. + + + + +THE AUTHOR.[171] + +Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite, +And cruel parents teach, to read and write! +What need of letters? wherefore should we spell? +Why write our names? A mark will do as well. +Much are the precious hours of youth misspent, +In climbing Learning's rugged, steep ascent; +When to the top the bold adventurer's got, +He reigns, vain monarch, o'er a barren spot; +Whilst in the vale of Ignorance below, +Folly and Vice to rank luxuriance grow; 10 +Honours and wealth pour in on every side, +And proud Preferment rolls her golden tide. +O'er crabbed authors life's gay prime to waste, +To cramp wild genius in the chains of taste, +To bear the slavish drudgery of schools, +And tamely stoop to every pedant's rules; +For seven long years debarr'd of liberal ease, +To plod in college trammels to degrees; +Beneath the weight of solemn toys to groan, +Sleep over books, and leave mankind unknown; 20 +To praise each senior blockhead's threadbare tale, +And laugh till reason blush, and spirits fail; +Manhood with vile submission to disgrace, +And cap the fool, whose merit is his place, +Vice-Chancellors, whose knowledge is but small, +And Chancellors, who nothing know at all: +Ill-brook'd the generous spirit in those days +When learning was the certain road to praise, +When nobles, with a love of science bless'd, +Approved in others what themselves possess'd. 30 + But now, when Dulness rears aloft her throne, +When lordly vassals her wide empire own; +When Wit, seduced by Envy, starts aside, +And basely leagues with Ignorance and Pride; +What, now, should tempt us, by false hopes misled, +Learning's unfashionable paths to tread; +To bear those labours which our fathers bore, +That crown withheld, which they in triumph wore? + When with much pains this boasted learning's got, +'Tis an affront to those who have it not: 40 +In some it causes hate, in others fear, +Instructs our foes to rail, our friends to sneer. +With prudent haste the worldly-minded fool +Forgets the little which he learn'd at school: +The elder brother, to vast fortunes born, +Looks on all science with an eye of scorn; +Dependent brethren the same features wear, +And younger sons are stupid as the heir. +In senates, at the bar, in church and state, +Genius is vile, and learning out of date. 50 + Is this--oh, death to think!--is this the land +Where Merit and Reward went hand in hand? +Where heroes, parent-like, the poet view'd, +By whom they saw their glorious deeds renew'd? +Where poets, true to honour, tuned their lays, +And by their patrons sanctified their praise? +Is this the land, where, on our Spenser's tongue, +Enamour'd of his voice, Description hung? +Where Jonson rigid Gravity beguiled, +Whilst Reason through her critic fences smiled? 60 +Where Nature listening stood whilst Shakspeare play'd, +And wonder'd at the work herself had made? +Is this the land, where, mindful of her charge +And office high, fair Freedom walk'd at large? +Where, finding in our laws a sure defence, +She mock'd at all restraints, but those of sense? +Where, Health and Honour trooping by her side, +She spread her sacred empire far and wide; +Pointed the way, Affliction to beguile, +And bade the face of Sorrow wear a smile; 70 +Bade those, who dare obey the generous call, +Enjoy her blessings, which God meant for all? +Is this the land, where, in some tyrant's reign, +When a weak, wicked, ministerial train, +The tools of power, the slaves of interest, plann'd +Their country's ruin, and with bribes unmann'd +Those wretches, who, ordain'd in Freedom's cause, +Gave up our liberties, and sold our laws; +When Power was taught by Meanness where to go, +Nor dared to love the virtue of a foe; 80 +When, like a leprous plague, from the foul head +To the foul heart her sores Corruption spread; +Her iron arm when stern Oppression rear'd; +And Virtue, from her broad base shaken, fear'd +The scourge of Vice; when, impotent and vain, +Poor Freedom bow'd the neck to Slavery's chain? +Is this the land, where, in those worst of times, +The hardy poet raised his honest rhymes +To dread rebuke, and bade Controlment speak +In guilty blushes on the villain's cheek; 90 +Bade Power turn pale, kept mighty rogues in awe, +And made them fear the Muse, who fear'd not law? + How do I laugh, when men of narrow souls, +Whom Folly guides, and Prejudice controls; +Who, one dull drowsy track of business trod, +Worship their Mammon, and neglect their God; +Who, breathing by one musty set of rules, +Dote from their birth, and are by system fools; +Who, form'd to dulness from their very youth, +Lies of the day prefer to gospel truth; 100 +Pick up their little knowledge from Reviews, +And lay out all their stock of faith in news; + How do I laugh, when creatures, form'd like these, +Whom Reason scorns, and I should blush to please, +Rail at all liberal arts, deem verse a crime, +And hold not truth, as truth, if told in rhyme! +How do I laugh, when Publius,[172] hoary grown +In zeal for Scotland's welfare, and his own, +By slow degrees, and course of office, drawn +In mood and figure at the helm to yawn, 110 +Too mean (the worst of curses Heaven can send) +To have a foe, too proud to have a friend; +Erring by form, which blockheads sacred hold, +Ne'er making new faults, and ne'er mending old, +Rebukes my spirit, bids the daring Muse +Subjects more equal to her weakness choose; +Bids her frequent the haunts of humble swains, +Nor dare to traffic in ambitious strains; +Bids her, indulging the poetic whim +In quaint-wrought ode, or sonnet pertly trim, 120 +Along the church-way path complain with Gray, +Or dance with Mason on the first of May! +'All sacred is the name and power of kings; +All states and statesmen are those mighty things +Which, howsoe'er they out of course may roll, +Were never made for poets to control.' + Peace, peace, thou dotard! nor thus vilely deem +Of sacred numbers, and their power blaspheme. +I tell thee, wretch, search all creation round, +In earth, in heaven, no subject can be found: 130 +(Our God alone except) above whose height +The poet cannot rise, and hold his state. +The blessed saints above in numbers speak +The praise of God, though there all praise is weak; +In numbers here below the bard shall teach +Virtue to soar beyond the villain's reach; +Shall tear his labouring lungs, strain his hoarse throat, +And raise his voice beyond the trumpet's note, +Should an afflicted country, awed by men +Of slavish principles, demand his pen. 140 +This is a great, a glorious point of view, +Fit for an English poet to pursue; +Undaunted to pursue, though, in return, +His writings by the common hangman burn + How do I laugh, when men, by fortune placed +Above their betters, and by rank disgraced, +Who found their pride on titles which they stain, +And, mean themselves, are of their fathers vain; +Who would a bill of privilege prefer, +And treat a poet like a creditor; 150 +The generous ardour of the Muse condemn, +And curse the storm they know must break on them! +'What! shall a reptile bard, a wretch unknown, +Without one badge of merit but his own, +Great nobles lash, and lords, like common men, +Smart from the vengeance of a scribbler's pen?' + What's in this name of lord, that I should fear +To bring their vices to the public ear? +Flows not the honest blood of humble swains +Quick as the tide which swells a monarch's veins? 160 +Monarchs, who wealth and titles can bestow, +Cannot make virtues in succession flow. +Wouldst thou, proud man! be safely placed above +The censure of the Muse? Deserve her love: +Act as thy birth demands, as nobles ought; +Look back, and, by thy worthy father taught, +Who earn'd those honours thou wert born to wear, +Follow his steps, and be his virtue's heir. +But if, regardless of the road to fame, +You start aside, and tread the paths of shame; 170 +If such thy life, that should thy sire arise, +The sight of such a son would blast his eyes, +Would make him curse the hour which gave thee birth, +Would drive him shuddering from the face of earth, +Once more, with shame and sorrow, 'mongst the dead +In endless night to hide his reverend head; +If such thy life, though kings had made thee more +Than ever king a scoundrel made before; +Nay, to allow thy pride a deeper spring, +Though God in vengeance had made thee a king, 180 +Taking on Virtue's wing her daring flight, +The Muse should drag thee, trembling, to the light, +Probe thy foul wounds, and lay thy bosom bare +To the keen question of the searching air. + Gods! with what pride I see the titled slave, +Who smarts beneath the stroke which Satire gave, +Aiming at ease, and with dishonest art +Striving to hide the feelings of his heart! +How do I laugh, when, with affected air, +(Scarce able through despite to keep his chair, 190 +Whilst on his trembling lip pale Anger speaks, +And the chafed blood flies mounting to his cheeks) +He talks of Conscience, which good men secures +From all those evil moments Guilt endures, +And seems to laugh at those who pay regard +To the wild ravings of a frantic bard. +'Satire, whilst envy and ill-humour sway +The mind of man, must always make her way; +Nor to a bosom, with discretion fraught, +Is all her malice worth a single thought. 200 +The wise have not the will, nor fools the power, +To stop her headstrong course; within the hour, +Left to herself, she dies; opposing strife +Gives her fresh vigour, and prolongs her life. +All things her prey, and every man her aim, +I can no patent for exemption claim, +Nor would I wish to stop that harmless dart +Which plays around, but cannot wound my heart; +Though pointed at myself, be Satire free; +To her 'tis pleasure, and no pain to me.' 210 + Dissembling wretch! hence to the Stoic school, +And there amongst thy brethren play the fool; +There, unrebuked, these wild, vain doctrines preach. +Lives there a man whom Satire cannot reach? +Lives there a man who calmly can stand by, +And see his conscience ripp'd with steady eye? +When Satire flies abroad on Falsehood's wing, +Short is her life, and impotent her sting; +But when to Truth allied, the wound she gives +Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives. 220 +When in the tomb thy pamper'd flesh shall rot, +And e'en by friends thy memory be forgot, +Still shalt thou live, recorded for thy crimes, +Live in her page, and stink to after-times. + Hast thou no feeling yet? Come, throw off pride, +And own those passions which thou shalt not hide. +Sandwich, who, from the moment of his birth, +Made human nature a reproach on earth, +Who never dared, nor wish'd, behind to stay, +When Folly, Vice, and Meanness led the way, 230 +Would blush, should he be told, by Truth and Wit, +Those actions which he blush'd not to commit. +Men the most infamous are fond of fame, +And those who fear not guilt, yet start at shame. + But whither runs my zeal, whose rapid force, +Turning the brain, bears Reason from her course; +Carries me back to times, when poets, bless'd +With courage, graced the science they profess'd; +When they, in honour rooted, firmly stood, +The bad to punish, and reward the good; 240 +When, to a flame by public virtue wrought, +The foes of freedom they to justice brought, +And dared expose those slaves who dared support +A tyrant plan, and call'd themselves a Court? +Ah! what are poets now? As slavish those +Who deal in verse, as those who deal in prose. +Is there an Author, search the kingdom round, +In whom true worth and real spirit's found? +The slaves of booksellers, or (doom'd by Fate +To baser chains) vile pensioners of state; 250 +Some, dead to shame, and of those shackles proud +Which Honour scorns, for slavery roar aloud; +Others, half-palsied only, mutes become, +And what makes Smollett write, makes Johnson dumb. + Why turns yon villain pale? Why bends his eye +Inward, abash'd, when Murphy passes by? +Dost thou sage Murphy for a blockhead take, +Who wages war with Vice for Virtue's sake? +No, no, like other worldlings, you will find +He shifts his sails and catches every wind. 260 +His soul the shock of Interest can't endure: +Give him a pension then, and sin secure. + With laurell'd wreaths the flatterer's brows adorn: +Bid Virtue crouch, bid Vice exalt her horn; +Bid cowards thrive, put Honesty to flight, +Murphy shall prove, or try to prove it right. +Try, thou state-juggler, every paltry art; +Ransack the inmost closet of my heart; +Swear thou'rt my friend; by that base oath make way +Into my breast, and flatter to betray. 270 +Or, if those tricks are vain; if wholesome doubt +Detects the fraud, and points the villain out; +Bribe those who daily at my board are fed, +And make them take my life who eat my bread. +On Authors for defence, for praise depend; +Pay him but well, and Murphy is thy friend: +He, he shall ready stand with venal rhymes, +To varnish guilt, and consecrate thy crimes; +To make Corruption in false colours shine, +And damn his own good name, to rescue thine. 280 + But, if thy niggard hands their gifts withhold, +And Vice no longer rains down showers of gold, +Expect no mercy; facts, well-grounded, teach, +Murphy, if not rewarded, will impeach. +What though each man of nice and juster thought, +Shunning his steps, decrees, by Honour taught, +He ne'er can be a friend, who stoops so low +To be the base betrayer of a foe? +What though, with thine together link'd, his name +Must be with thine transmitted down to shame? 290 +To every manly feeling callous grown, +Rather than not blast thine, he 'll blast his own. + To ope the fountain whence sedition springs, +To slander government, and libel kings; +With Freedom's name to serve a present hour, +Though born and bred to arbitrary power; +To talk of William with insidious art, +Whilst a vile Stuart's lurking in his heart; +And, whilst mean Envy rears her loathsome head, +Flattering the living, to abuse the dead, 300 +Where is Shebbeare?[173] Oh, let not foul reproach, +Travelling thither in a city-coach, +The pillory dare to name: the whole intent +Of that parade was fame, not punishment; +And that old staunch Whig, Beardmore,[174] standing by, +Can in full court give that report the lie. + With rude unnatural jargon to support, +Half-Scotch, half-English, a declining court; +To make most glaring contraries unite, +And prove beyond dispute that black is white; 310 +To make firm Honour tamely league with Shame, +Make Vice and Virtue differ but in name; +To prove that chains and freedom are but one, +That to be saved must mean to be undone, +Is there not Guthrie?[175] Who, like him, can call +All opposites to proof, and conquer all? +He calls forth living waters from the rock; +He calls forth children from the barren stock; +He, far beyond the springs of Nature led, +Makes women bring forth after they are dead; 320 +He, on a curious, new, and happy plan, +In wedlock's sacred bands joins man to man; +And to complete the whole, most strange, but true, +By some rare magic, makes them fruitful too; +Whilst from their loins, in the due course of years, +Flows the rich blood of Guthrie's 'English Peers.' + Dost thou contrive some blacker deed of shame, +Something which Nature shudders but to name, +Something which makes the soul of man retreat, +And the life-blood run backward to her seat? 330 +Dost thou contrive, for some base private end, +Some selfish view, to hang a trusting friend; +To lure him on, e'en to his parting breath, +And promise life, to work him surer death? +Grown old in villany, and dead to grace, +Hell in his heart, and Tyburn in his face, +Behold, a parson at thy elbow stands, +Lowering damnation, and with open hands, +Ripe to betray his Saviour for reward, +The Atheist chaplain of an Atheist lord![176] 340 + Bred to the church, and for the gown decreed, +Ere it was known that I should learn to read; +Though that was nothing, for my friends, who knew +What mighty Dulness of itself could do, +Never design'd me for a working priest, +But hoped I should have been a Dean at least: +Condemn'd, (like many more, and worthier men, +To whom I pledge the service of my pen)[177] +Condemn'd (whilst proud and pamper'd sons of lawn, +Cramm'd to the throat, in lazy plenty yawn) 350 +In pomp of reverend beggary to appear, +To pray, and starve on forty pounds a-year: +My friends, who never felt the galling load, +Lament that I forsook the packhorse road, +Whilst Virtue to my conduct witness bears, +In throwing off that gown which Francis[178] wears. + What creature's that, so very pert and prim, +So very full of foppery, and whim, +So gentle, yet so brisk; so wondrous sweet, +So fit to prattle at a lady's feet; 360 +Who looks as he the Lord's rich vineyard trod, +And by his garb appears a man of God? +Trust not to looks, nor credit outward show; +The villain lurks beneath the cassock'd beau; +That's an informer; what avails the name? +Suffice it that the wretch from Sodom came. +His tongue is deadly--from his presence run, +Unless thy rage would wish to be undone. +No ties can hold him, no affection bind, +And fear alone restrains his coward mind; 370 +Free him from that, no monster is so fell, +Nor is so sure a blood-hound found in Hell. +His silken smiles, his hypocritic air, +His meek demeanour, plausible and fair, +Are only worn to pave Fraud's easier way, +And make gull'd Virtue fall a surer prey. +Attend his church--his plan of doctrine view-- +The preacher is a Christian, dull, but true; +But when the hallow'd hour of preaching's o'er, +That plan of doctrine's never thought of more; 380 +Christ is laid by neglected on the shelf, +And the vile priest is gospel to himself. + By Cleland[179] tutor'd, and with Blacow[180] bred, +(Blacow, whom, by a brave resentment led, +Oxford, if Oxford had not sunk in fame, +Ere this, had damn'd to everlasting shame) +Their steps he follows, and their crimes partakes; +To virtue lost, to vice alone he wakes, +Most lusciously declaims 'gainst luscious themes, +And whilst he rails at blasphemy, blasphemes. 390 + Are these the arts which policy supplies? +Are these the steps by which grave churchmen rise? +Forbid it, Heaven; or, should it turn out so, +Let me and mine continue mean and low. +Such be their arts whom interest controls; +Kidgell[181] and I have free and modest souls: +We scorn preferment which is gain'd by sin, +And will, though poor without, have peace within. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [171] 'The Author:' published in 1763. For this poem and 'The + Duellist,' Churchill received £450. + + [172] 'Publius:' Smollett. + + [173] 'Shebbeare:' Dr John Shebbeare, a physician and notorious + jacobitical writer, who, after having been pilloried for a seditious + production, was pensioned by George the Third. + + [174] 'Beardmore:' under sheriff. + + [175] 'Guthrie:' William Guthrie, a literary hack. See Boswell. He + wrote an absurd History of the Peerage. + + [176] 'Atheist lord:' See note on 'Epistle to William Hogarth.' + + [177] 'Service of my pen:' he designed, and partly executed, a poem + entitled 'The Curate.' + + [178] 'Francis:' the Rev. Philip Francis, the translator of Horace, and + father of Sir Philip Francis. + + [179] 'Cleland:' John Cleland, an infamous witling of the time. + + [180] 'Blacow:' an Oxfordian, who informed against some riotous + students, who were shouting out drunken Jacobitism. + + [181] 'Kidgell:' Rector of Horne, the subject of the above sketch, and + here ironically praised, had obtained surreptitiously a copy of + Wilkes's 'Essay on Woman,' and betrayed it to the secretaries of state. + + + + +THE CONFERENCE.[182] + +Grace said in form, which sceptics must agree, +When they are told that grace was said by me; +The servants gone to break the scurvy jest +On the proud landlord, and his threadbare guest; +'The King' gone round, my lady too withdrawn; +My lord, in usual taste, began to yawn, +And, lolling backward in his elbow-chair, +With an insipid kind of stupid stare, +Picking his teeth, twirling his seals about-- +Churchill, you have a poem coming out: 10 +You've my best wishes; but I really fear +Your Muse, in general, is too severe; +Her spirit seems her interest to oppose, +And where she makes one friend, makes twenty foes. + _C_. Your lordship's fears are just; I feel their force, +But only feel it as a thing of course. +The man whose hardy spirit shall engage +To lash, the vices of a guilty age, +At his first setting forward ought to know +That every rogue he meets must be his foe; 20 +That the rude breath of satire will provoke +Many who feel, and more who fear the stroke. +But shall the partial rage of selfish men +From stubborn Justice wrench the righteous pen? +Or shall I not my settled course pursue, +Because my foes are foes to Virtue too? + _L_. What is this boasted Virtue, taught in schools, +And idly drawn from antiquated rules? +What is her use? Point out one wholesome end. +Will she hurt foes, or can she make a friend? 30 +When from long fasts fierce appetites arise, +Can this same Virtue stifle Nature's cries? +Can she the pittance of a meal afford, +Or bid thee welcome to one great man's board? +When northern winds the rough December arm +With frost and snow, can Virtue keep thee warm? +Canst thou dismiss the hard unfeeling dun +Barely by saying, thou art Virtue's son? +Or by base blundering statesmen sent to jail, +Will Mansfield take this Virtue for thy bail? 40 +Believe it not, the name is in disgrace; +Virtue and Temple now are out of place. + Quit then this meteor, whose delusive ray +Prom wealth and honour leads thee far astray. +True virtue means--let Reason use her eyes-- +Nothing with fools, and interest with the wise. +Wouldst thou be great, her patronage disclaim, +Nor madly triumph in so mean a name: +Let nobler wreaths thy happy brows adorn, +And leave to Virtue poverty and scorn. 50 +Let Prudence be thy guide; who doth not know +How seldom Prudence can with Virtue go? +To be successful try thy utmost force, +And Virtue follows as a thing of course. + Hirco--who knows not Hirco?--stains the bed +Of that kind master who first gave him bread; +Scatters the seeds of discord through the land, +Breaks every public, every private band; +Beholds with joy a trusting friend undone; +Betrays a brother, and would cheat a son: 60 +What mortal in his senses can endure +The name of Hirco? for the wretch is poor! +Let him hang, drown, starve, on a dunghill rot, +By all detested live, and die forgot; +Let him--a poor return--in every breath +Feel all Death's pains, yet be whole years in death, +Is now the general cry we all pursue. +Let Fortune change, and Prudence changes too; +Supple and pliant, a new system feels, +Throws up her cap, and spaniels at his heels: 70 +Long live great Hirco, cries, by interest taught, +And let his foes, though I prove one, be nought. + _C_. Peace to such men, if such men can have peace; +Let their possessions, let their state increase; +Let their base services in courts strike root, +And in the season bring forth golden fruit. +I envy not; let those who have the will, +And, with so little spirit, so much skill, +With such vile instruments their fortunes carve; +Rogues may grow fat, an honest man dares starve.[183] 80 + _L_. These stale conceits thrown off, let us advance +For once to real life, and quit romance. +Starve! pretty talking! but I fain would view +That man, that honest man, would do it too. +Hence to yon mountain which outbraves the sky, +And dart from pole to pole thy strengthen'd eye, +Through all that space you shall not view one man, +Not one, who dares to act on such a plan. +Cowards in calms will say, what in a storm +The brave will tremble at, and not perform. 90 +Thine be the proof, and, spite of all you've said, +You'd give your honour for a crust of bread. + _C_. What proof might do, what hunger might effect, +What famish'd Nature, looking with neglect +On all she once held dear; what fear, at strife +With fainting virtue for the means of life, +Might make this coward flesh, in love with breath, +Shuddering at pain, and shrinking back from death, +In treason to my soul, descend to boar, +Trusting to fate, I neither know nor care. 100 +Once,--at this hour those wounds afresh I feel, +Which, nor prosperity, nor time, can heal; +Those wounds which Fate severely hath decreed, +Mention'd or thought of, must for ever bleed; +Those wounds which humbled all that pride of man, +Which brings such mighty aid to Virtue's plan-- +Once, awed by Fortune's most oppressive frown, +By legal rapine to the earth bow'd clown, +My credit at last gasp, my state undone, +Trembling to meet the shock I could not shun, 110 +Virtue gave ground, and blank despair prevail'd; +Sinking beneath the storm, my spirits fail'd +Like Peter's faith, till one, a friend indeed-- +May all distress find such in time of need!-- +One kind good man, in act, in word, in thought, +By Virtue guided, and by Wisdom taught, +Image of Him whom Christians should adore, +Stretch'd forth his hand, and brought me safe to shore.[184] +Since, by good fortune into notice raised, +And for some little merit largely praised, 120 +Indulged in swerving from prudential rules, +Hated by rogues, and not beloved by fools; +Placed above want, shall abject thirst of wealth, +So fiercely war 'gainst my soul's dearest health, +That, as a boon, I should base shackles crave, +And, born to freedom, make myself a slave? +That I should in the train of those appear, +Whom Honour cannot love, nor Manhood fear? + That I no longer skulk from street to street, +Afraid lest duns assail, and bailiffs meet; 130 +That I from place to place this carcase bear; +Walk forth at large, and wander free as air; +That I no longer dread the awkward friend. +Whose very obligations must offend; +Nor, all too froward, with impatience burn +At suffering favours which I can't return; +That, from dependence and from pride secure, +I am not placed so high to scorn the poor, +Nor yet so low that I my lord should fear, +Or hesitate to give him sneer for sneer; 140 +That, whilst sage Prudence my pursuits confirms, +I can enjoy the world on equal terms; +That, kind to others, to myself most true, +Feeling no want, I comfort those who do, +And, with the will, have power to aid distress: +These, and what other blessings I possess, +From the indulgence of the public rise, +All private patronage my soul defies. +By candour more inclined to save, than damn, +A generous Public made me what I am. 150 +All that I have, they gave; just Memory bears +The grateful stamp, and what I am is theirs. + _L_. To feign a red-hot zeal for Freedom's cause, +To mouth aloud for liberties and laws, +For public good to bellow all abroad, +Serves well the purposes of private fraud. +Prudence, by public good intends her own; +If you mean otherwise, you stand alone. +What do we mean by country and by court? +What is it to oppose? what to support? 160 +Mere words of course; and what is more absurd +Than to pay homage to an empty word? +Majors and minors differ but in name; +Patriots and ministers are much the same; +The only difference, after all their rout, +Is, that the one is in, the other out. + Explore the dark recesses of the mind, +In the soul's honest volume read mankind, +And own, in wise and simple, great and small, +The same grand leading principle in all. 170 +Whate'er we talk of wisdom to the wise, +Of goodness to the good, of public ties +Which to our country link, of private bands +Which claim most dear attention at our hands; +For parent and for child, for wife and friend, +Our first great mover, and our last great end +Is one, and, by whatever name we call +The ruling tyrant, Self is all in all. +This, which unwilling Faction shall admit, +Guided in different ways a Bute and Pitt; 180 +Made tyrants break, made kings observe the law; +And gave the world a Stuart and Nassau. + Hath Nature (strange and wild conceit of pride!) +Distinguished thee from all her sons beside? +Doth virtue in thy bosom brighter glow, +Or from a spring more pure doth action flow? +Is not thy soul bound with those very chains +Which shackle us? or is that Self, which reigns +O'er kings and beggars, which in all we see +Most strong and sovereign, only weak in thee? 190 +Fond man, believe it not; experience tells +'Tis not thy virtue, but thy pride rebels. +Think, (and for once lay by thy lawless pen) +Think, and confess thyself like other men; +Think but one hour, and, to thy conscience led +By Reason's hand, bow down and hang thy head: +Think on thy private life, recall thy youth, +View thyself now, and own, with strictest truth, +That Self hath drawn thee from fair Virtue's way +Farther than Folly would have dared to stray; 200 +And that the talents liberal Nature gave, +To make thee free, have made thee more a slave. + Quit then, in prudence quit, that idle train +Of toys, which have so long abused thy brain. +And captive led thy powers; with boundless will +Let Self maintain her state and empire still; +But let her, with more worthy objects caught, +Strain all the faculties and force of thought +To things of higher daring; let her range +Through better pastures, and learn how to change; 210 +Let her, no longer to weak Faction tied, +Wisely revolt, and join our stronger side. + _C_. Ah! what, my lord, hath private life to do +With things of public nature? Why to view +Would you thus cruelly those scenes unfold +Which, without pain and horror to behold, +Must speak me something more or less than man, +Which friends may pardon, but I never can? +Look back! a thought which borders on despair, +Which human nature must, yet cannot bear. 220 +'Tis not the babbling of a busy world, +Where praise and censure are at random hurl'd, +Which can the meanest of my thoughts control, +Or shake one settled purpose of my soul; +Free and at large might their wild curses roam, +If all, if all, alas! were well at home. +No--'tis the tale which angry Conscience tells, +When she with more than tragic horror swells +Each circumstance of guilt; when, stern but true, +She brings bad actions forth into review; 230 +And like the dread handwriting on the wall, +Bids late Remorse awake at Reason's call; +Arm'd at all points, bids scorpion Vengeance pass, +And to the mind holds up Reflection's glass,-- +The mind which, starting, heaves the heartfelt groan, +And hates that form she knows to be her own. + Enough of this,--let private sorrows rest,-- +As to the public, I dare stand the test; +Dare proudly boast, I feel no wish above +The good of England, and my country's love. 240 +Stranger to party-rage, by Reason's voice, +Unerring guide! directed in my choice, +Not all the tyrant powers of earth combined, +No, nor of hell, shall make me change my mind. +What! herd with men my honest soul disdains, +Men who, with servile zeal, are forging chains +For Freedom's neck, and lend a helping hand +To spread destruction o'er my native land? +What! shall I not, e'en to my latest breath, +In the full face of danger and of death, 250 +Exert that little strength which Nature gave, +And boldly stem, or perish in the wave? + _L_. When I look backward for some fifty years, +And see protesting patriots turn'd to peers; +Hear men, most loose, for decency declaim, +And talk of character, without a name; +See infidels assert the cause of God, +And meek divines wield Persecution's rod; +See men transferred to brutes, and brutes to men; +See Whitehead take a place, Ralph[185] change his pen; 260 +I mock the zeal, and deem the men in sport, +Who rail at ministers, and curse a court. +Thee, haughty as thou art, and proud in rhyme, +Shall some preferment, offer'd at a time +When Virtue sleeps, some sacrifice to Pride, +Or some fair victim, move to change thy side. +Thee shall these eyes behold, to health restored, +Using, as Prudence bids, bold Satire's sword, +Galling thy present friends, and praising those +Whom now thy frenzy holds thy greatest foes. 270 + _C_. May I (can worse disgrace on manhood fall?) +Be born a Whitehead,[186] and baptized a Paul; +May I (though to his service deeply tied +By sacred oaths, and now by will allied), +With false, feign'd zeal an injured God defend, +And use his name for some base private end; +May I (that thought bids double horrors roll +O'er my sick spirits, and unmans my soul) +Ruin the virtue which I held most dear, +And still must hold; may I, through abject fear, 280 +Betray my friend; may to succeeding times, +Engraved on plates of adamant, my crimes +Stand blazing forth, whilst, mark'd with envious blot, +Each little act of virtue is forgot; +Of all those evils which, to stamp men cursed, +Hell keeps in store for vengeance, may the worst +Light on my head; and in my day of woe, +To make the cup of bitterness o'erflow, +May I be scorn'd by every man of worth, +Wander, like Cain, a vagabond on earth; 200 +Bearing about a hell in my own mind, +Or be to Scotland for my life confined; +If I am one among the many known +Whom Shelburne[187] fled, and Calcraft[188] blush'd to own. + _L_. Do you reflect what men you make your foes? + _C_. I do, and that's the reason I oppose. +Friends I have made, whom Envy must commend, +But not one foe whom I would wish a friend. +What if ten thousand Butes and Hollands bawl? +One Wilkes had made a large amends for all. 300 + 'Tis not the title, whether handed down +From age to age, or flowing from the crown +In copious streams, on recent men, who came +From stems unknown, and sires without a name: +Tis not the star which our great Edward gave +To mark the virtuous, and reward the brave, +Blazing without, whilst a base heart within +Is rotten to the core with filth and sin; +'Tis not the tinsel grandeur, taught to wait, +At Custom's call, to mark a fool of state 310 +From fools of lesser note, that soul can awe, +Whose pride is reason, whose defence is law. + +_L_. Suppose, (a thing scarce possible in art, +Were it thy cue to play a common part) +Suppose thy writings so well fenced in law, +That Norton cannot find nor make a flaw-- +Hast thou not heard, that 'mongst our ancient tribes, +By party warp'd, or lull'd asleep by bribes, +Or trembling at the ruffian hand of Force, +Law hath suspended stood, or changed its course? 320 +Art thou assured, that, for destruction ripe, +Thou may'st not smart beneath the self-same gripe? +What sanction hast thou, frantic in thy rhymes, +Thy life, thy freedom to secure? + +_G_. The Times. +'Tis not on law, a system great and good, +By wisdom penn'd, and bought by noblest blood, +My faith relies; by wicked men and vain, +Law, once abused, may be abused again. +No; on our great Lawgiver I depend, +Who knows and guides her to her proper end; 330 +Whose royalty of nature blazes out +So fierce, 'twere sin to entertain a doubt. +Did tyrant Stuarts now the law dispense, +(Bless'd be the hour and hand which sent them hence!) +For something, or for nothing, for a word +Or thought, I might be doom'd to death, unheard. +Life we might all resign to lawless power, +Nor think it worth the purchase of an hour; +But Envy ne'er shall fix so foul a stain +On the fair annals of a Brunswick's reign. 340 + If, slave to party, to revenge, or pride; +If, by frail human error drawn aside, +I break the law, strict rigour let her wear; +'Tis hers to punish, and 'tis mine to bear; +Nor, by the voice of Justice doom'd to death +Would I ask mercy with my latest breath: +But, anxious only for my country's good, +In which my king's, of course, is understood; +Form'd on a plan with some few patriot friends, +Whilst by just means I aim at noblest ends, 350 +My spirits cannot sink; though from the tomb +Stern Jeffries should be placed in Mansfield's room; +Though he should bring, his base designs to aid, +Some black attorney, for his purpose made, +And shove, whilst Decency and Law retreat, +The modest Norton from his maiden seat; +Though both, in ill confederates, should agree, +In damned league, to torture law and me, +Whilst George is king, I cannot fear endure; +Not to be guilty, is to be secure. 360 + But when, in after-times, (be far removed +That day!) our monarch, glorious and beloved, +Sleeps with his fathers, should imperious Fate, +In vengeance, with fresh Stuarts curse our state; +Should they, o'erleaping every fence of law, +Butcher the brave to keep tame fools in awe; +Should they, by brutal and oppressive force, +Divert sweet Justice from her even course; +Should they, of every other means bereft, +Make my right hand a witness 'gainst my left; 370 +Should they, abroad by inquisitions taught, +Search out my soul, and damn me for a thought; +Still would I keep my course, still speak, still write, +Till Death had plunged me in the shades of night. + Thou God of truth, thou great, all-searching eye, +To whom our thoughts, our spirits, open lie! +Grant me thy strength, and in that needful hour, +(Should it e'er come) when Law submits to Power, +With firm resolve my steady bosom steel, +Bravely to suffer, though I deeply feel. 380 + Let me, as hitherto, still draw my breath, +In love with life, but not in fear of death; +And if Oppression brings me to the grave, +And marks me dead, she ne'er shall mark a slave. +Let no unworthy marks of grief be heard, +No wild laments, not one unseemly word; +Let sober triumphs wait upon my bier; +I won't forgive that friend who drops one tear. +Whether he's ravish'd in life's early morn, +Or in old age drops like an ear of corn, 390 +Full ripe he falls, on Nature's noblest plan, +Who lives to Reason, and who dies a Man. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [182] 'The Conference:' this poem was published by our author in + November 1763, soon after his elopement with Miss Carr. + + [183] 'Dares starve:' this will suggest Burns's noble line, 'We daur be + poor, for a' that.' + + [184] 'Shore:' Churchill, sunk in deep debt, was delivered from the + impending horrors of a jail, by Dr Peirson Lloyd, second master of + Westminster school. + + [185] 'Ralph:' Mr James Ralph a hack author. See 'The Dunciad,' and + Franklin's 'Autobiography.' He was hired by Pelham to abuse Sir R. + Walpole, whom he had supported before. + + [186] 'Whitehead:' author of 'Manners, a Satire.' + + [187] 'Shelburne:' William Petty, Earl of Shelburne, afterwards + Marquis of Lansdowne. + + [188] 'Calcraft:' John Calcraft, Esq., M.P., army agent and + contractor. + + + + +THE GHOST.[189] + +In Four Books. + + +BOOK I. + + +With eager search to dart the soul, +Curiously vain, from pole to pole, +And from the planets' wandering spheres +To extort the number of our years, +And whether all those years shall flow +Serenely smooth, and free from woe, +Or rude misfortune shall deform +Our life with one continual storm; +Or if the scene shall motley be. +Alternate joy and misery, 10 +Is a desire which, more or less. +All men must feel, though few confess. +Hence, every place and every age +Affords subsistence to the sage, +Who, free from this world and its cares, +Holds an acquaintance with the stars, +From whom he gains intelligence +Of things to come some ages hence, +Which unto friends, at easy rates. +He readily communicates. 20 + At its first rise, which all agree on, +This noble science was Chaldean; +That ancient people, as they fed +Their flocks upon the mountain's head, +Gazed on the stars, observed their motions, +And suck'd in astrologic notions, +Which they so eagerly pursue, +As folks are apt whate'er is new, +That things below at random rove, +Whilst they're consulting things above; 30 +And when they now so poor were grown, +That they'd no houses of their own, +They made bold with their friends the stars, +And prudently made use of theirs. + To Egypt from Chaldee it travell'd, +And Fate at Memphis was unravell'd: +The exotic science soon struck root, +And flourish'd into high repute. +Each learned priest, oh strange to tell! +Could circles make, and cast a spell; 40 +Could read and write, and taught the nation +The holy art of divination. +Nobles themselves, for at that time +Knowledge in nobles was no crime, +Could talk as learned as the priest, +And prophesy as much, at least. +Hence all the fortune-telling crew, +Whose crafty skill mars Nature's hue, +Who, in vile tatters, with smirch'd face, +Run up and down from place to place, 50 +To gratify their friends' desires, +From Bampfield Carew,[190] to Moll Squires,[191] +Are rightly term'd Egyptians all; +Whom we, mistaking, Gypsies call. + The Grecian sages borrow'd this, +As they did other sciences, +From fertile Egypt, though the loan +They had not honesty to own. +Dodona's oaks, inspired by Jove, +A learned and prophetic grove, 60 +Turn'd vegetable necromancers, +And to all comers gave their answers. +At Delphos, to Apollo dear, +All men the voice of Fate might hear; +Each subtle priest on three-legg'd stool, +To take in wise men, play'd the fool. +A mystery, so made for gain, +E'en now in fashion must remain; +Enthusiasts never will let drop +What brings such business to their shop; 70 +And that great saint we Whitefield call, +Keeps up the humbug spiritual. + Among the Romans, not a bird +Without a prophecy was heard; +Fortunes of empires often hung +On the magician magpie's tongue, +And every crow was to the state +A sure interpreter of Fate. +Prophets, embodied in a college[192] +(Time out of mind your seat of knowledge; 80 +For genius never fruit can bear +Unless it first is planted there, +And solid learning never falls +Without the verge of college walls) +Infallible accounts would keep +When it was best to watch or sleep, +To eat or drink, to go or stay, +And when to fight or run away; +When matters were for action ripe, +By looking at a double tripe; 90 +When emperors would live or die, +They in an ass's skull could spy; +When generals would their station keep, +Or turn their backs, in hearts of sheep. +In matters, whether small or great, +In private families or state +As amongst us, the holy seer +Officiously would interfere; +With pious arts and reverend skill +Would bend lay bigots to his will; 100 +Would help or injure foes or friends, +Just as it served his private ends. +Whether in honest way of trade +Traps for virginity were laid; +Or if, to make their party great, +Designs were form'd against the state, +Regardless of the common weal, +By interest led, which they call zeal, +Into the scale was always thrown +The will of Heaven to back their own. 110 + England--a happy land we know, +Where follies naturally grow, +Where without culture they arise +And tower above the common size; +England, a fortune-telling host, +As numerous as the stars, could boast,-- +Matrons, who toss the cup, and see +The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea, +Who, versed in every modest lore, +Can a lost maidenhead restore, 120 +Or, if their pupils rather choose it, +Can show the readiest way to lose it; +Gypsies, who every ill can cure, +Except the ill of being poor, +Who charms 'gainst love and agues sell, +Who can in hen-roost set a spell, +Prepared by arts, to them best known, +To catch all feet except their own, +Who, as to fortune, can unlock it +As easily as pick a pocket; 130 +Scotchmen, who, in their country's right, +Possess the gift of second-sight, +Who (when their barren heaths they quit, +Sure argument of prudent wit, +Which reputation to maintain, +They never venture back again) +By lies prophetic heap up riches, +And boast the luxury of breeches. + Amongst the rest, in former years, +Campbell[193] (illustrious name!) appears, 140 +Great hero of futurity, +Who, blind, could every thing foresee, +Who, dumb, could every thing foretell, +Who, Fate with equity to sell, +Always dealt out the will of Heaven +According to what price was given. + Of Scottish race, in Highlands born, +Possess'd with native pride and scorn, +He hither came, by custom led, +To curse the hands which gave him bread. 150 +With want of truth, and want of sense, +Amply made up by impudence +(A succedaneum, which we find +In common use with all mankind); +Caress'd and favour'd too by those +Whose heart with patriot feelings glows, +Who foolishly, where'er dispersed, +Still place their native country first; +(For Englishmen alone have sense +To give a stranger preference, 160 +Whilst modest merit of their own +Is left in poverty to groan) +Campbell foretold just what he would, +And left the stars to make it good, +On whom he had impress'd such awe, +His dictates current pass'd for law; +Submissive, all his empire own'd; +No star durst smile, when Campbell frown'd. + This sage deceased,--for all must die, +And Campbell's no more safe than I, 170 +No more than I can guard the heart, +When Death shall hurl the fatal dart,-- +Succeeded, ripe in art and years, +Another favourite of the spheres; +Another and another came, +Of equal skill, and equal fame; +As white each wand, as black each gown, +As long each beard, as wise each frown, +In every thing so like, you'd swear +Campbell himself was sitting there: 180 +To all the happy art was known, +To tell our fortunes, make their own. + Seated in garret,--for, you know, +The nearer to the stars we go +The greater we esteem his art,-- +Fools, curious, flock'd from every part; +The rich, the poor, the maid, the married, +And those who could not walk, were carried. + The butler, hanging down his head, +By chambermaid, or cookmaid led, 190 +Inquires, if from his friend the Moon +He has advice of pilfer'd spoon. + The court-bred woman of condition, +(Who, to approve her disposition +As much superior as her birth +To those composed of common earth, +With double spirit must engage +In every folly of the age) +The honourable arts would buy, +To pack the cards, and cog a die. 200 + The hero--who, for brawn and face, +May claim right honourable place +Amongst the chiefs of Butcher-row:[194] +Who might, some thirty years ago, +If we may be allow'd to guess +At his employment by his dress, +Put medicines off from cart or stage, +The grand Toscano of the age; +Or might about the country go +High-steward of a puppet-show,-- 210 +Steward and stewardship most meet, +For all know puppets never eat: +Who would be thought (though, save the mark! +That point is something in the dark) +The man of honour, one like those +Renown'd in story, who loved blows +Better than victuals, and would fight, +Merely for sport, from morn to night: +Who treads like Mavors firm, whose tongue +Is with the triple thunder hung, 220 +Who cries to Fear, 'Stand off--aloof,' +And talks as he were cannon-proof; +Would be deem'd ready, when you list, +With sword and pistol, stick and fist, +Careless of points, balls, bruises, knocks, +At once to fence, fire, cudgel, box, +But at the same time bears about, +Within himself, some touch of doubt, +Of prudent doubt, which hints--that fame +Is nothing but an empty name; 230 +That life is rightly understood +By all to be a real good; +That, even in a hero's heart, +Discretion is the better part; +That this same honour may be won, +And yet no kind of danger run-- +Like Drugger[195] comes, that magic powers +May ascertain his lucky hours; +For at some hours the fickle dame, +Whom Fortune properly we name, 240 +Who ne'er considers wrong or right, +When wanted most, plays least in sight, +And, like a modern court-bred jilt, +Leaves her chief favourites in a tilt. +Some hours there are, when from the heart +Courage into some other part, +No matter wherefore, makes retreat, +And Fear usurps the vacant seat; +Whence, planet-struck, we often find +Stuarts[196] and Sackvilles[197] of mankind. 250 + Farther, he'd know (and by his art +A conjurer can that impart) +Whether politer it is reckon'd +To have, or not to have, a second; +To drag the friends in, or alone +To make the danger all their own; +Whether repletion is not bad, +And fighters with full stomachs mad; +Whether, before he seeks the plain, +It were not well to breathe a vein; 260 +Whether a gentle salivation, +Consistently with reputation, +Might not of precious use be found, +Not to prevent, indeed, a wound, +But to prevent the consequence +Which oftentimes arises thence, +Those fevers, which the patient urge on +To gates of death, by help of surgeon; +Whether a wind at east or west +Is for green wounds accounted best; 270 +Whether (was he to choose) his mouth +Should point towards the north or south; +Whether more safely he might use, +On these occasions, pumps or shoes; +Whether it better is to fight +By sunshine or by candlelight; +Or, lest a candle should appear +Too mean to shine in such a sphere, +For who could of a candle tell +To light a hero into hell; 280 +And, lest the sun should partial rise +To dazzle one or t'other's eyes, +Or one or t'other's brains to scorch, +Might not Dame Luna hold a torch? + These points with dignity discuss'd, +And gravely fix'd,--a task which must +Require no little time and pains, +To make our hearts friends with our brains,-- +The man of war would next engage +The kind assistance of the sage, 290 +Some previous method to direct, +Which should make these of none effect. + Could he not, from the mystic school +Of Art, produce some sacred rule, +By which a knowledge might be got +Whether men valiant were, or not; +So he that challenges might write +Only to those who would not fight? + Or could he not some way dispense +By help of which (without offence 300 +To Honour, whose nice nature's such +She scarce endures the slightest touch) +When he, for want of t'other rule, +Mistakes his man, and, like a fool, +With some vain fighting blade gets in, +He fairly may get out again? + Or should some demon lay a scheme +To drive him to the last extreme, +So that he must confess his fears, +In mercy to his nose and ears, 310 +And like a prudent recreant knight, +Rather do anything than fight, +Could he not some expedient buy +To keep his shame from public eye? +For well he held,--and, men review, +Nine in ten hold the maxim too,-- +That honour's like a maidenhead, +Which, if in private brought to bed, +Is none the worse, but walks the town, +Ne'er lost, until the loss be known. 320 + The parson, too, (for now and then +Parsons are just like other men, +And here and there a grave divine +Has passions such as yours and mine) +Burning with holy lust to know +When Fate preferment will bestow, +'Fraid of detection, not of sin, +With circumspection sneaking in +To conjurer, as he does to whore, +Through some bye-alley or back-door, 330 +With the same caution orthodox +Consults the stars, and gets a pox. + The citizen, in fraud grown old, +Who knows no deity but gold, +Worn out, and gasping now for breath, +A medicine wants to keep off death; +Would know, if that he cannot have, +What coins are current in the grave; +If, when the stocks (which, by his power, +Would rise or fall in half an hour; 340 +For, though unthought of and unseen, +He work'd the springs behind the screen) +By his directions came about, +And rose to par, he should sell out; +Whether he safely might, or no, +Replace it in the funds below? + By all address'd, believed, and paid, +Many pursued the thriving trade, +And, great in reputation grown, +Successive held the magic throne. 350 +Favour'd by every darling passion, +The love of novelty and fashion, +Ambition, avarice, lust, and pride, +Riches pour'd in on every side. +But when the prudent laws thought fit +To curb this insolence of wit; +When senates wisely had provided, +Decreed, enacted, and decided, +That no such vile and upstart elves +Should have more knowledge than themselves; 360 +When fines and penalties were laid +To stop the progress of the trade, +And stars no longer could dispense, +With honour, further influence; +And wizards (which must be confess'd +Was of more force than all the rest) +No certain way to tell had got +Which were informers, and which not; +Affrighted sages were, perforce, +Obliged to steer some other course. 370 +By various ways, these sons of Chance +Their fortunes labour'd to advance, +Well knowing, by unerring rules, +Knaves starve not in the land of fools. + Some, with high titles and degrees, +Which wise men borrow when they please, +Without or trouble, or expense, +Physicians instantly commence, +And proudly boast an Equal skill +With those who claim the right to kill. 380 + Others about the country roam, +(For not one thought of going home) +With pistol and adopted leg, +Prepared at once to rob or beg. + Some, the more subtle of their race, +(Who felt some touch of coward grace, +Who Tyburn to avoid had wit, +But never fear'd deserving it) +Came to their brother Smollett's aid, +And carried on the critic trade. 390 +Attach'd to letters and the Muse, +Some verses wrote, and some wrote news; +Those each revolving month are seen, +The heroes of a magazine; +These, every morning, great appear +In Ledger, or in Gazetteer, +Spreading the falsehoods of the day, +By turns for Faden and for Say.[198] +Like Swiss, their force is always laid +On that side where they best are paid: 400 +Hence mighty prodigies arise, +And daily monsters strike our eyes; +Wonders, to propagate the trade, +More strange than ever Baker[199] made, +Are hawk'd about from street to street, +And fools believe, whilst liars eat. + Now armies in the air engage, +To fright a superstitious age; +Now comets through the ether range, +In governments portending change; 410 +Now rivers to the ocean fly +So quick, they leave their channels dry; +Now monstrous whales on Lambeth shore +Drink the Thames dry, and thirst for more; +And every now and then appears +An Irish savage, numbering years +More than those happy sages could +Who drew their breath before the flood; +Now, to the wonder of all people, +A church is left without a steeple; 420 +A steeple now is left in lurch, +And mourns departure of the church, +Which, borne on wings of mighty wind, +Removed a furlong off we find; +Now, wrath on cattle to discharge, +Hailstones as deadly fall, and large, +As those which were on Egypt sent, +At once their crime and punishment; +Or those which, as the prophet writes, +Fell on the necks of Amorites, 430 +When, struck with wonder and amaze, +The sun, suspended, stay'd to gaze, +And, from her duty longer kept, +In Ajalon his sister slept. + But if such things no more engage +The taste of a politer age, +To help them out in time of need +Another Tofts[200] must rabbits breed: +Each pregnant female trembling hears, +And, overcome with spleen and fears, 440 +Consults her faithful glass no more, +But, madly bounding o'er the floor, +Feels hairs all o'er her body grow, +By Fancy turn'd into a doe. + Now, to promote their private ends, +Nature her usual course suspends, +And varies from the stated plan +Observed e'er since the world began. +Bodies--which foolishly we thought, +By Custom's servile maxims taught, 450 +Needed a regular supply, +And without nourishment must die-- +With craving appetites, and sense +Of hunger easily dispense, +And, pliant to their wondrous skill, +Are taught, like watches, to stand still, +Uninjured, for a month or more, +Then go on as they did before. +The novel takes, the tale succeeds, +Amply supplies its author's needs, 460 +And Betty Canning[201] is at least, +With Gascoyne's help, a six months' feast. + Whilst, in contempt of all our pains, +The tyrant Superstition reigns +Imperious in the heart of man, +And warps his thoughts from Nature's plan; +Whilst fond Credulity, who ne'er +The weight of wholesome doubts could bear, +To Reason and herself unjust, +Takes all things blindly upon trust; 470 +Whilst Curiosity, whose rage +No mercy shows to sex or age, +Must be indulged at the expense +Of judgment, truth, and common sense, +Impostures cannot but prevail; +And when old miracles grow stale, +Jugglers will still the art pursue, +And entertain the world with new. + For them, obedient to their will, +And trembling at their mighty skill, 480 +Sad spirits, summon'd from the tomb, +Glide, glaring ghastly, through the gloom; +In all the usual pomp of storms, +In horrid customary forms, +A wolf, a bear, a horse, an ape, +As Fear and Fancy give them shape, +Tormented with despair and pain, +They roar, they yell, and clank the chain. +Folly and Guilt (for Guilt, howe'er +The face of Courage it may wear, 490 +Is still a coward at the heart) +At fear-created phantoms start. +The priest--that very word implies +That he's both innocent and wise-- +Yet fears to travel in the dark, +Unless escorted by his clerk. + But let not every bungler deem +Too lightly of so deep a scheme; +For reputation of the art, +Each ghost must act a proper part, 500 +Observe Decorum's needful grace, +And keep the laws of Time and Place; +Must change, with happy variation, +His manners with his situation; +What in the country might pass down, +Would be impertinent in town. +No spirit of discretion here +Can think of breeding awe and fear; +'Twill serve the purpose more by half +To make the congregation laugh. 510 +We want no ensigns of surprise, +Locks stiff with gore, and saucer eyes; +Give us an entertaining sprite, +Gentle, familiar, and polite, +One who appears in such a form +As might an holy hermit warm, +Or who on former schemes refines, +And only talks by sounds and signs, +Who will not to the eye appear, +But pays her visits to the ear, 520 +And knocks so gently, 't would not fright +A lady in the darkest night. +Such is our Fanny, whose good-will, +Which cannot in the grave lie still, +Brings her on earth to entertain +Her friends and lovers in Cock-lane. + + +BOOK II. + + +A sacred standard rule we find, +By poets held time out of mind, +To offer at Apollo's shrine, +And call on one, or all the Nine. + This custom, through a bigot zeal, +Which moderns of fine taste must feel +For those who wrote in days of yore, +Adopted stands, like many more; +Though every cause which then conspired +To make it practised and admired, 10 +Yielding to Time's destructive course, +For ages past hath lost its force. + With ancient bards, an invocation +Was a true act of adoration, +Of worship an essential part, +And not a formal piece of art, +Of paltry reading a parade, +A dull solemnity in trade, +A pious fever, taught to burn +An hour or two, to serve a turn. 20 + They talk'd not of Castalian springs, +By way of saying pretty things, +As we dress out our flimsy rhymes; +'T was the religion of the times; +And they believed that holy stream +With greater force made Fancy teem, +Reckon'd by all a true specific +To make the barren brain prolific: +Thus Romish Church, (a scheme which bears +Not half so much excuse as theirs) 30 +Since Faith implicitly hath taught her, +Reveres the force of holy water. + The Pagan system, whether true +Or false, its strength, like buildings, drew +From many parts disposed to bear, +In one great whole, their proper share. +Each god of eminent degree +To some vast beam compared might be; +Each godling was a peg, or rather +A cramp, to keep the beams together: 40 +And man as safely might pretend +From Jove the thunderbolt to rend, +As with an impious pride aspire +To rob Apollo of his lyre. + With settled faith and pious awe, +Establish'd by the voice of Law, +Then poets to the Muses came, +And from their altars caught the flame. +Genius, with Phoebus for his guide, +The Muse ascending by his side, 50 +With towering pinions dared to soar, +Where eye could scarcely strain before. +But why should we, who cannot feel +These glowings of a Pagan zeal, +That wild enthusiastic force, +By which, above her common course, +Nature, in ecstasy upborne, +Look'd down on earthly things with scorn; +Who have no more regard, 'tis known, +For their religion than our own, 60 +And feel not half so fierce a flame +At Clio's as at Fisher's[202] name; +Who know these boasted sacred streams +Were mere romantic, idle dreams, +That Thames has waters clear as those +Which on the top of Pindus rose, +And that, the fancy to refine, +Water's not half so good as wine; +Who know, if profit strikes our eye, +Should we drink Helicon quite dry, 70 +The whole fountain would not thither lead +So soon as one poor jug from Tweed: +Who, if to raise poetic fire, +The power of beauty we require, +In any public place can view +More than the Grecians ever knew; +If wit into the scale is thrown, +Can boast a Lennox[203] of our own; +Why should we servile customs choose, +And court an antiquated Muse? 80 +No matter why--to ask a reason, +In pedant bigotry is treason. + In the broad, beaten turnpike-road +Of hacknied panegyric ode, +No modern poet dares to ride +Without Apollo by his side, +Nor in a sonnet take the air, +Unless his lady Muse be there; +She, from some amaranthine grove, +Where little Loves and Graces rove, 90 +The laurel to my lord must bear, +Or garlands make for whores to wear; +She, with soft elegiac verse, +Must grace some mighty villain's hearse, +Or for some infant, doom'd by Fate +To wallow in a large estate, +With rhymes the cradle must adorn, +To tell the world a fool is born. + Since then our critic lords expect +No hardy poet should reject 100 +Establish'd maxims, or presume +To place much better in their room, +By nature fearful, I submit, +And in this dearth of sense and wit-- +With nothing done, and little said, +(By wild excursive Fancy led +Into a second Book thus far, +Like some unwary traveller, +Whom varied scenes of wood and lawn, +With treacherous delight, have drawn, 110 +Deluded from his purposed way, +Whom every step leads more astray: +Who, gazing round, can no where spy, +Or house, or friendly cottage nigh, +And resolution seems to lack +To venture forward, or go back) +Invoke some goddess to descend, +And help me to my journey's end; +Though conscious Arrow all the while +Hears the petition with a smile, 120 +Before the glass her charms unfolds, +And in herself my Muse beholds. + Truth, Goddess of celestial birth, +But little loved or known on earth, +Whose power but seldom rules the heart, +Whose name, with hypocritic art, +An arrant stalking-horse is made, +A snug pretence to drive a trade, +An instrument, convenient grown, +To plant more firmly Falsehood's throne, 130 +As rebels varnish o'er their cause +With specious colouring of laws, +And pious traitors draw the knife +In the king's name against his life; +Whether (from cities far away, +Where Fraud and Falsehood scorn thy sway) +The faithful nymph's and shepherd's pride, +With Love and Virtue by thy side, +Your hours in harmless joys are spent +Amongst the children of Content; 140 +Or, fond of gaiety and sport, +You tread the round of England's court, +Howe'er my lord may frowning go, +And treat the stranger as a foe, +Sure to be found a welcome guest +In George's and in Charlotte's breast; +If, in the giddy hours of youth, +My constant soul adhered to truth; +If, from the time I first wrote Man, +I still pursued thy sacred plan, 150 +Tempted by Interest in vain +To wear mean Falsehood's golden chain; +If, for a season drawn away, +Starting from Virtue's path astray, +All low disguise I scorn'd to try, +And dared to sin, but not to lie; +Hither, oh! hither condescend, +Eternal Truth! thy steps to bend, +And favour him, who, every hour, +Confesses and obeys thy power. 160 + But come not with that easy mien +By which you won the lively Dean; +Nor yet assume that strumpet air +Which Rabelais taught thee first to wear; +Nor yet that arch ambiguous face +Which with Cervantes gave thee grace; +But come in sacred vesture clad, +Solemnly dull, and truly sad! + Far from thy seemly matron train +Be idiot Mirth, and Laughter vain! 170 +For Wit and Humour, which pretend +At once to please us and amend, +They are not for my present turn; +Let them remain in France with Sterne. + Of noblest City parents born, +Whom wealth and dignities adorn, +Who still one constant tenor keep, +Not quite awake, nor quite asleep; +With thee let formal Dulness come, +And deep Attention, ever dumb, 180 +Who on her lips her finger lays, +Whilst every circumstance she weighs, +Whose downcast eye is often found +Bent without motion to the ground, +Or, to some outward thing confined, +Remits no image to the mind, +No pregnant mark of meaning bears, +But, stupid, without vision stares; +Thy steps let Gravity attend, +Wisdom's and Truth's unerring friend; 190 +For one may see with half an eye, +That Gravity can never lie, +And his arch'd brow, pull'd o'er his eyes, +With solemn proof proclaims him wise. + Free from all waggeries and sports, +The produce of luxurious courts, +Where sloth and lust enervate youth, +Come thou, a downright City-Truth: +The City, which we ever find +A sober pattern for mankind; 200 +Where man, in equilibrio hung, +Is seldom old, and never young, +And, from the cradle to the grave, +Not Virtue's friend nor Vice's slave; +As dancers on the wire we spy, +Hanging between the earth and sky. + She comes--I see her from afar +Bending her course to Temple-Bar; +All sage and silent is her train, +Deportment grave, and garments plain, 210 +Such as may suit a parson's wear, +And fit the headpiece of a mayor. + By Truth inspired, our Bacon's force +Open'd the way to Learning's source; +Boyle through the works of Nature ran; +And Newton, something more than man, +Dived into Nature's hidden springs, +Laid bare the principles of things, +Above the earth our spirits bore, +And gave us worlds unknown before. 220 +By Truth inspired, when Lauder's[204] spite +O'er Milton east the veil of night, +Douglas arose, and through the maze +Of intricate and winding ways, +Came where the subtle traitor lay, +And dragg'd him, trembling, to the day; +Whilst he, (oh, shame to noblest parts, +Dishonour to the liberal arts, +To traffic in so vile a scheme!) +Whilst he, our letter'd Polypheme,[205] 230 +Who had confederate forces join'd, +Like a base coward skulk'd behind. +By Truth inspired, our critics go +To track Fingal in Highland snow, +To form their own and others' creed +From manuscripts they cannot read. +By Truth inspired, we numbers see +Of each profession and degree, +Gentle and simple, lord and cit, +Wit without wealth, wealth without wit, 240 +When Punch and Sheridan have done, +To Fanny's[206] ghostly lectures run. +By Truth and Fanny now inspired, +I feel my glowing bosom fired; +Desire beats high in every vein +To sing the spirit of Cock-lane; +To tell (just as the measure flows +In halting rhyme, half verse, half prose) +With more than mortal arts endued, +How she united force withstood, 250 +And proudly gave a brave defiance +To Wit and Dulness in alliance. + This apparition (with relation +To ancient modes of derivation, +This we may properly so call, +Although it ne'er appears at all, +As by the way of inuendo, +_Lucus_ is made _à non lucendo_) +Superior to the vulgar mode, +Nobly disdains that servile road 260 +Which coward ghosts, as it appears, +Have walk'd in full five thousand years, +And, for restraint too mighty grown, +Strikes out a method of her own. + Others may meanly start away, +Awed by the herald of the day; +With faculties too weak to bear +The freshness of the morning air, +May vanish with the melting gloom, +And glide in silence to the tomb; 270 +She dares the sun's most piercing light, +And knocks by day as well as night. +Others, with mean and partial view, +Their visits pay to one or two; +She, in great reputation grown, +Keeps the best company in town. +Our active enterprising ghost +As large and splendid routs can boast +As those which, raised by Pride's command[207], +Block up the passage through the Strand. 280 + Great adepts in the fighting trade, +Who served their time on the parade; +She-saints, who, true to Pleasure's plan, +Talk about God, and lust for man; +Wits, who believe nor God, nor ghost, +And fools who worship every post; +Cowards, whose lips with war are hung; +Men truly brave, who hold their tongue; +Courtiers, who laugh they know not why, +And cits, who for the same cause cry; 290 +The canting tabernacle-brother, +(For one rogue still suspects another); +Ladies, who to a spirit fly, +Rather than with their husbands lie; +Lords, who as chastely pass their lives +With other women as their wives; +Proud of their intellects and clothes, +Physicians, lawyers, parsons, beaux, +And, truant from their desks and shops, +Spruce Temple clerks and 'prentice fops, 300 +To Fanny come, with the same view, +To find her false, or find her true. + Hark! something creeps about the house! +Is it a spirit, or a mouse? +Hark! something scratches round the room! +A cat, a rat, a stubb'd birch-broom. +Hark! on the wainscot now it knocks! +'If thou 'rt a ghost,' cried Orthodox, +With that affected solemn air +Which hypocrites delight to wear, 310 +And all those forms of consequence +Which fools adopt instead of sense; +'If thou 'rt a ghost, who from the tomb +Stalk'st sadly silent through this gloom, +In breach of Nature's stated laws, +For good, or bad, or for no cause, +Give now nine knocks;[208] like priests of old, +Nine we a sacred number hold.' + 'Psha,' cried Profound, (a man of parts, +Deep read in all the curious arts, 320 +Who to their hidden springs had traced +The force of numbers, rightly placed) +'As to the number, you are right; +As to the form, mistaken quite. +What's nine? Your adepts all agree +The virtue lies in three times three.' + He said; no need to say it twice, +For thrice she knock'd, and thrice, and thrice. + The crowd, confounded and amazed, +In silence at each other gazed. 330 +From Caelia's hand the snuff-box fell; +Tinsel, who ogled with the belle, +To pick it up attempts in vain, +He stoops, but cannot rise again. +Immane Pomposo[209] was not heard +T' import one crabbed foreign word. +Fear seizes heroes, fools, and wits, +And Plausible his prayers forgets. + At length, as people just awake, +Into wild dissonance they break; 340 +All talk'd at once, but not a word +Was understood or plainly heard. +Such is the noise of chattering geese, +Slow sailing on the summer breeze; +Such is the language Discord speaks +In Welsh women o'er beds of leeks; +Such the confused and horrid sounds +Of Irish in potatoe-grounds. + But tired, for even C----'s[210] tongue +Is not on iron hinges hung, 350 +Fear and Confusion sound retreat, +Reason and Order take their seat. +The fact, confirm'd beyond all doubt, +They now would find the causes out. +For this a sacred rule we find +Among the nicest of mankind, +Which never might exception brook +From Hobbes even down to Bolingbroke, +To doubt of facts, however true, +Unless they know the causes too. 360 + Trifle, of whom 'twas hard to tell +When he intended ill or well; +Who, to prevent all further pother, +Probably meant nor one, nor t'other; +Who to be silent always loth, +Would speak on either side, or both; +Who, led away by love of fame, +If any new idea came, +Whate'er it made for, always said it, +Not with an eye to truth, but credit; 370 +For orators profess'd, 'tis known, +Talk not for our sake, but their own; +Who always show'd his talents best +When serious things were turn'd to jest, +And, under much impertinence, +Possess'd no common share of sense; +Who could deceive the flying hours +With chat on butterflies and flowers; +Could talk of powder, patches, paint, +With the same zeal as of a saint; 380 +Could prove a Sibyl brighter far +Than Venus or the Morning Star; +Whilst something still so gay, so new, +The smile of approbation drew, +And females eyed the charming man, +Whilst their hearts flutter'd with their fan; +Trifle, who would by no means miss +An opportunity like this, +Proceeding on his usual plan, +Smiled, stroked his chin, and thus began: 390 + 'With shears or scissors, sword or knife, +When the Fates cut the thread of life, +(For if we to the grave are sent, +No matter with what instrument) +The body in some lonely spot, +On dunghill vile, is laid to rot, +Or sleep among more holy dead +With prayers irreverently read; +The soul is sent where Fate ordains, +To reap rewards, to suffer pains. 400 + The virtuous to those mansions go +Where pleasures unembitter'd flow, +Where, leading up a jocund band, +Vigour and Youth dance hand in hand, +Whilst Zephyr, with harmonious gales, +Pipes softest music through the vales, +And Spring and Flora, gaily crown'd, +With velvet carpet spread the ground; +With livelier blush where roses bloom, +And every shrub expires perfume; 410 +Where crystal streams meandering glide, +Where warbling flows the amber tide; +Where other suns dart brighter beams, +And light through purer ether streams. + Far other seats, far different state, +The sons of Wickedness await. +Justice (not that old hag I mean +Who's nightly in the Garden seen[211], +Who lets no spark of mercy rise, +For crimes, by which men lose their eyes; 420 +Nor her who, with an equal hand, +Weighs tea and sugar in the Strand; +Nor her who, by the world deem'd wise, +Deaf to the widow's piercing cries, +Steel'd 'gainst the starving orphan's tears, +On pawns her base tribunal rears; +But her who after death presides, +Whom sacred Truth unerring guides; +Who, free from partial influence, +Nor sinks nor raises evidence, 430 +Before whom nothing's in the dark, +Who takes no bribe, and keeps no clerk) +Justice, with equal scale below, +In due proportion weighs out woe, +And always with such lucky aim +Knows punishments so fit to frame, +That she augments their grief and pain, +Leaving no reason to complain. + Old maids and rakes are join'd together, +Coquettes and prudes, like April weather. 440 +Wit's forced to chum with Common-Sense, +And Lust is yoked to Impotence. +Professors (Justice so decreed) +Unpaid, must constant lectures read; +On earth it often doth befall, +They're paid, and never read at all. +Parsons must practise what they teach, +And bishops are compell'd to preach. + She who on earth was nice and prim, +Of delicacy full, and whim; 450 +Whose tender nature could not bear +The rudeness of the churlish air, +Is doom'd, to mortify her pride, +The change of weather to abide, +And sells, whilst tears with liquor mix, +Burnt brandy on the shore of Styx. + Avaro[212], by long use grown bold +In every ill which brings him gold, +Who his Reedemer would pull down, +And sell his God for half-a-crown; 460 +Who, if some blockhead should be willing +To lend him on his soul a shilling, +A well-made bargain would esteem it, +And have more sense than to redeem it, +Justice shall in those shades confine, +To drudge for Plutus in the mine, +All the day long to toil and roar, +And, cursing, work the stubborn ore, +For coxcombs here, who have no brains, +Without a sixpence for his pains: 470 +Thence, with each due return of night, +Compell'd, the tall, thin, half-starved sprite +Shall earth revisit, and survey +The place where once his treasure lay, +Shall view the stall where holy Pride, +With letter'd Ignorance allied, +Once hail'd him mighty and adored, +Descended to another lord: +Then shall he, screaming, pierce the air, +Hang his lank jaws, and scowl despair; 480 +Then shall he ban at Heaven's decrees, +And, howling, sink to Hell for ease. + Those who on earth through life have pass'd +With equal pace from first to last, +Nor vex'd with passions nor with spleen, +Insipid, easy, and serene; +Whose heads were made too weak to bear +The weight of business, or of care; +Who, without merit, without crime, +Contrive to while away their time; 490 +Nor good nor bad, nor fools nor wits, +Mild Justice, with a smile, permits +Still to pursue their darling plan, +And find amusement how they can. + The beau, in gaudiest plumage dress'd, +With lucky fancy o'er the rest +Of air a curious mantle throws, +And chats among his brother beaux; +Or, if the weather's fine and clear, +No sign of rain or tempest near, 500 +Encouraged by the cloudless day, +Like gilded butterflies at play, +So lively all, so gay, so brisk, +In air they flutter, float, and frisk. + The belle (what mortal doth not know +Belles after death admire a beau?) +With happy grace renews her art +To trap the coxcomb's wandering heart; +And, after death as whilst they live, +A heart is all which beaux can give. 510 + In some still, solemn, sacred shade, +Behold a group of authors laid, +Newspaper wits, and sonneteers, +Gentleman bards, and rhyming peers, +Biographers, whose wondrous worth +Is scarce remember'd now on earth, +Whom Fielding's humour led astray, +And plaintive fops, debauch'd by Gray, +All sit together in a ring, +And laugh and prattle, write and sing. 520 + On his own works, with Laurel crown'd, +Neatly and elegantly bound, +(For this is one of many rules, +With writing lords, and laureate fools, +And which for ever must succeed +With other lords who cannot read, +However destitute of wit, +To make their works for bookcase fit) +Acknowledged master of those seats, +Gibber his Birth-day Odes repeats. 530 + With triumph now possess that seat, +With triumph now thy Odes repeat; +Unrivall'd vigils proudly keep, +Whilst every hearer's lull'd to sleep; +But know, illustrious bard! when Fate, +Which still pursues thy name with hate, +The regal laurel blasts, which now +Blooms on the placid Whitehead's brow, +Low must descend thy pride and fame, +And Cibber's be the second name.'-- 540 +Here Trifle cough'd, (for coughing still +Bears witness of the speaker's skill, +A necessary piece of art, +Of rhetoric an essential part, +And adepts in the speaking trade +Keep a cough by them ready made, +Which they successfully dispense +When at a loss for words or sense) +Here Trifle cough'd, here paused--but while +He strove to recollect his smile, 550 +That happy engine of his art, +Which triumph'd o'er the female heart, +Credulity, the child of Folly, +Begot on cloister'd Melancholy, +Who heard, with grief, the florid fool +Turn sacred things to ridicule, +And saw him, led by Whim away, +Still further from the subject stray, +Just in the happy nick, aloud, +In shape of Moore[213], address'd the crowd: 560 + 'Were we with patience here to sit, +Dupes to the impertinence of Wit, +Till Trifle his harangue should end, +A Greenland night we might attend, +Whilst he, with fluency of speech, +Would various mighty nothings teach'-- +(Here Trifle, sternly looking down, +Gravely endeavour'd at a frown, +But Nature unawares stept in, +And, mocking, turn'd it to a grin)-- 570 +'And when, in Fancy's chariot hurl'd, +We had been carried round the world, +Involved in error still and doubt, +He'd leave us where we first set out. +Thus soldiers (in whose exercise +Material use with grandeur vies) +Lift up their legs with mighty pain, +Only to set them down again. + Believe ye not (yes, all, I see, +In sound belief concur with me) 580 +That Providence, for worthy ends, +To us unknown, this spirit sends? +Though speechless lay the trembling tongue, +Your faith was on your features hung; +Your faith I in your eyes could see, +When all were pale and stared like me. +But scruples to prevent, and root +Out every shadow of dispute, +Pomposo, Plausible, and I, +With Fanny, have agreed to try 590 +A deep concerted scheme--this night +To fix or to destroy her quite. +If it be true, before we've done, +We'll make it glaring as the sun; +If it be false, admit no doubt +Ere morning's dawn we'll find it out. +Into the vaulted womb of Death, +Where Fanny now, deprived of breath, +Lies festering, whilst her troubled sprite +Adds horror to the gloom of night, 600 +Will we descend, and bring from thence +Proofs of such force to Common-Sense, +Vain triflers shall no more deceive, +And atheists tremble and believe.' +He said, and ceased; the chamber rung +With due applause from every tongue: +The mingled sound (now let me see-- +Something by way of simile) +Was it more like Strymonian cranes, +Or winds, low murmuring, when it rains. 610 +Or drowsy hum of clustering bees, +Or the hoarse roar of angry seas? +Or (still to heighten and explain, +For else our simile is vain) +Shall we declare it like all four, +A scream, a murmur, hum, and roar? + Let Fancy now, in awful state, +Present this great triumvirate, +(A method which received we find, +In other cases, by mankind) 620 +Elected with a joint consent, +All fools in town to represent. + The clock strikes twelve--Moore starts and swears. +In oaths, we know, as well as prayers, +Religion lies, and a church-brother +May use at will, or one, or t'other; +Plausible from his cassock drew +A holy manual, seeming new; +A book it was of private prayer, +But not a pin the worse for wear: 630 +For, as we by-the-bye may say, +None but small saints in private pray. +Religion, fairest maid on earth! +As meek as good, who drew her birth +From that bless'd union, when in heaven +Pleasure was bride to Virtue given; +Religion, ever pleased to pray, +Possess'd the precious gift one day; +Hypocrisy, of Cunning born, +Crept in and stole it ere the morn; 640 +Whitefield, that greatest of all saints, +Who always prays and never faints, +(Whom she to her own brothers bore, +Rapine and Lust, on Severn's shore) +Received it from the squinting dame; +From him to Plausible it came, +Who, with unusual care oppress'd, +Now, trembling, pull'd it from his breast; +Doubts in his boding heart arise, +And fancied spectres blast his eyes, 650 +Devotion springs from abject fear, +And stamps his prayers for once sincere. + Pomposo, (insolent and loud, +Vain idol of a scribbling crowd, +Whose very name inspires an awe, +Whose every word is sense and law, +For what his greatness hath decreed, +Like laws of Persia and of Mede, +Sacred through all the realm of Wit, +Must never of repeal admit; 660 +Who, cursing flattery, is the tool +Of every fawning, flattering fool; +Who wit with jealous eye surveys, +And sickens at another's praise; +Who, proudly seized of Learning's throne, +Now damns all learning but his own; +Who scorns those common wares to trade in, +Reasoning, convincing, and persuading, +But makes each sentence current pass +With puppy, coxcomb, scoundrel, ass; 670 +For 'tis with him a certain rule, +The folly's proved when he calls fool; +Who, to increase his native strength, +Draws words six syllables in length, +With which, assisted with a frown +By way of club, he knocks us down; +Who 'bove the vulgar dares to rise, +And sense of decency defies; +For this same decency is made +Only for bunglers in the trade, 680 +And, like the cobweb laws, is still +Broke through by great ones when they will)-- +Pomposo, with strong sense supplied, +Supported, and confirm'd by Pride, +His comrades' terrors to beguile +'Grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile:' +Features so horrid, were it light, +Would put the Devil himself to flight. + Such were the three in name and worth +Whom Zeal and Judgment singled forth 690 +To try the sprite on Reason's plan, +Whether it was of God or man. + Dark was the night; it was that hour +When Terror reigns in fullest power, +When, as the learn'd of old have said, +The yawning Grave gives up her dead; +When Murder, Rapine by her side, +Stalks o'er the earth with giant stride; +Our Quixotes (for that knight of old +Was not in truth by half so bold, 700 +Though Reason at the same time cries, +'Our Quixotes are not half so wise,' +Since they, with other follies, boast +An expedition 'gainst a ghost) +Through the dull deep surrounding gloom, +In close array, towards Fanny's tomb[214] +Adventured forth; Caution before, +With heedful step, the lantern bore, +Pointing at graves; and in the rear, +Trembling, and talking loud, went Fear. 710 +The churchyard teem'd--the unsettled ground, +As in an ague, shook around; +While, in some dreary vault confined, +Or riding on the hollow wind, +Horror, which turns the heart to stone, +In dreadful sounds was heard to groan. +All staring, wild, and out of breath, +At length they reach the place of Death. + A vault it was, long time applied +To hold the last remains of Pride: 720 +No beggar there, of humble race, +And humble fortunes, finds a place; +To rest in pomp as well as ease, +The only way's to pay the fees. +Fools, rogues, and whores, if rich and great, +Proud even in death, here rot in state. +No thieves disrobe the well-dress'd dead; +No plumbers steal the sacred lead; +Quiet and safe the bodies lie; +No sextons sell, no surgeons buy. 730 + Thrice, each the ponderous key applied, +And thrice to turn it vainly tried, +Till taught by Prudence to unite, +And straining with collected might, +The stubborn wards resist no more, +But open flies the growling door. + Three paces back they fell amazed, +Like statues stood, like madmen gazed; +The frighted blood forsakes the face, +And seeks the heart with quicker pace; 740 +The throbbing heart its fear declares, +And upright stand the bristled hairs; +The head in wild distraction swims, +Cold sweats bedew the trembling limbs; +Nature, whilst fears her bosom chill, +Suspends her powers, and life stands still. + Thus had they stood till now; but Shame +(An useful, though neglected dame, +By Heaven design'd the friend of man, +Though we degrade her all we can, 750 +And strive, as our first proof of wit, +Her name and nature to forget) +Came to their aid in happy hour, +And with a wand of mighty power +Struck on their hearts; vain fears subside, +And, baffled, leave the field to Pride. + Shall they, (forbid it, Fame!) shall they +The dictates of vile Pear obey? +Shall they, the idols of the Town, +To bugbears, fancy-form'd, bow down? 760 +Shall they, who greatest zeal express'd, +And undertook for all the rest, +Whose matchless courage all admire, +Inglorious from the task retire? +How would the wicked ones rejoice, +And infidels exalt their voice, +If Moore and Plausible were found, +By shadows awed, to quit their ground? +How would fools laugh, should it appear +Pomposo was the slave of fear? 770 +'Perish the thought! Though to our eyes, +In all its terrors, Hell should rise; +Though thousand ghosts, in dread array, +With glaring eyeballs, cross our way; +Though Caution, trembling, stands aloof, +Still we will on, and dare the proof.' +They said; and, without further halt, +Dauntless march'd onward to the vault. + What mortal men, who e'er drew breath, +Shall break into the house of Death, 780 +With foot unhallow'd, and from thence +The mysteries of that state dispense, +Unless they, with due rites, prepare +Their weaker sense such sights to bear, +And gain permission from the state, +On earth their journal to relate? +Poets themselves, without a crime, +Cannot attempt it e'en in rhyme, +But always, on such grand occasion, +Prepare a solemn invocation, 790 +A posy for grim Pluto weave, +And in smooth numbers ask his leave. +But why this caution? why prepare +Rites, needless now? for thrice in air +The Spirit of the Night hath sneezed, +And thrice hath clapp'd his wings, well-pleased. + Descend then, Truth, and guard thy side, +My Muse, my patroness, and guide! +Let others at invention aim, +And seek by falsities for fame; 800 +Our story wants not, at this time, +Flounces and furbelows in rhyme; +Relate plain facts; be brief and bold; +And let the poets, famed of old, +Seek, whilst our artless tale we tell, +In vain to find a parallel: +Silent all three went in; about +All three turn'd, silent, and came out. + + +BOOK III. + + +It was the hour, when housewife Morn +With pearl and linen hangs each thorn; +When happy bards, who can regale +Their Muse with country air and ale, +Ramble afield to brooks and bowers, +To pick up sentiments and flowers; +When dogs and squires from kennel fly, +And hogs and farmers quit their sty; +When my lord rises to the chase, +And brawny chaplain takes his place. 10 + These images, or bad, or good, +If they are rightly understood, +Sagacious readers must allow +Proclaim us in the country now; +For observations mostly rise +From objects just before our eyes, +And every lord, in critic wit, +Can tell you where the piece was writ; +Can point out, as he goes along, +(And who shall dare to say he's wrong?) 20 +Whether the warmth (for bards, we know, +At present never more than glow) +Was in the town or country caught, +By the peculiar turn of thought. + It was the hour,--though critics frown, +We now declare ourselves in Town, +Nor will a moment's pause allow +For finding when we came, or how. +The man who deals in humble prose, +Tied down by rule and method goes; 30 +But they who court the vigorous Muse +Their carriage have a right to choose. +Free as the air, and unconfined, +Swift as the motions of the mind, +The poet darts from place to place, +And instant bounds o'er time and space: +Nature (whilst blended fire and skill +Inflame our passions to his will) +Smiles at her violated laws, +And crowns his daring with applause. 40 + Should there be still some rigid few, +Who keep propriety in view, +Whose heads turn round, and cannot bear +This whirling passage through the air, +Free leave have such at home to sit, +And write a regimen for wit; +To clip our pinions let them try, +Not having heart themselves to fly. + It was the hour when devotees +Breathe pious curses on their knees; 50 +When they with prayers the day begin +To sanctify a night of sin; +When rogues of modesty, who roam +Under the veil of night, sneak home, +That, free from all restraint and awe, +Just to the windward of the law, +Less modest rogues their tricks may play, +And plunder in the face of day. + But hold,--whilst thus we play the fool, +In bold contempt of every rule, 60 +Things of no consequence expressing, +Describing now, and now digressing, +To the discredit of our skill, +The main concern is standing still. +In plays, indeed, when storms of rage +Tempestuous in the soul engage, +Or when the spirits, weak and low, +Are sunk in deep distress and woe, +With strict propriety we hear +Description stealing on the ear, 70 +And put off feeling half an hour +To thatch a cot, or paint a flower; +But in these serious works, design'd +To mend the morals of mankind, +We must for ever be disgraced +With all the nicer sons of Taste, +If once, the shadow to pursue, +We let the substance out of view. +Our means must uniformly tend +In due proportion to their end, 80 +And every passage aptly join +To bring about the one design. +Our friends themselves cannot admit +This rambling, wild, digressive wit; +No--not those very friends, who found +Their credit on the self-same ground. + Peace, my good grumbling sir--for once, +Sunk in the solemn, formal dunce, +This coxcomb shall your fears beguile-- +We will be dull--that you may smile. 90 + Come, Method, come in all thy pride, +Dulness and Whitehead by thy side; +Dulness and Method still are one, +And Whitehead is their darling son: +Not he[215], whose pen, above control, +Struck terror to the guilty soul, +Made Folly tremble through her state, +And villains blush at being great; +Whilst he himself, with steady face, +Disdaining modesty and grace, 100 +Could blunder on through thick and thin, +Through every mean and servile sin, +Yet swear by Philip and by Paul, +He nobly scorn'd to blush at all; +But he who in the Laureate[216] chair, +By grace, not merit, planted there, +In awkward pomp is seen to sit, +And by his patent proves his wit; +For favours of the great, we know, +Can wit as well as rank bestow; 110 +And they who, without one pretension, +Can get for fools a place or pension, +Must able be supposed, of course, +(If reason is allow'd due force) +To give such qualities and grace +As may equip them for the place. + But he--who measures as he goes +A mongrel kind of tinkling prose, +And is too frugal to dispense, +At once, both poetry and sense; 120 +Who, from amidst his slumbering guards, +Deals out a charge to subject bards, +Where couplets after couplets creep +Propitious to the reign of sleep; +Yet every word imprints an awe, +And all his dictates pass for law +With beaux, who simper all around, +And belles, who die ill every sound: +For in all things of this relation, +Men mostly judge from situation, 130 +Nor in a thousand find we one +Who really weighs what's said or done; +They deal out censure, or give credit, +Merely from him who did or said it. + But he--who, happily serene, +Means nothing, yet would seem to mean; +Who rules and cautions can dispense +With all that humble insolence +Which Impudence in vain would teach, +And none but modest men can reach; 140 +Who adds to sentiments the grace +Of always being out of place, +And drawls out morals with an air +A gentleman would blush to wear; +Who, on the chastest, simplest plan, +As chaste, as simple, as the man +Without or character, or plot, +Nature unknown, and Art forgot, +Can, with much raking of the brains, +And years consumed in letter'd pains, 150 +A heap of words together lay, +And, smirking, call the thing a play;[217] +Who, champion sworn in Virtue's cause, +'Gainst Vice his tiny bodkin draws, +But to no part of prudence stranger, +First blunts the point for fear of danger. +So nurses sage, as caution works, +When children first use knives and forks, +For fear of mischief, it is known, +To others' fingers or their own, 160 +To take the edge off wisely choose, +Though the same stroke takes off the use. + Thee, Whitehead, thee I now invoke, +Sworn foe to Satire's generous stroke, +Which makes unwilling Conscience feel, +And wounds, but only wounds to heal. +Good-natured, easy creature, mild +And gentle as a new-born child, +Thy heart would never once admit +E'en wholesome rigour to thy wit; 170 +Thy head, if Conscience should comply, +Its kind assistance would deny, +And lend thee neither force nor art +To drive it onward to the heart. +Oh, may thy sacred power control +Bach fiercer working of my soul, +Damp every spark of genuine fire, +And languors, like thine own, inspire! +Trite be each thought, and every line +As moral and as dull as thine! 180 + Poised in mid-air--(it matters not +To ascertain the very spot, +Nor yet to give you a relation +How it eluded gravitation)-- +Hung a watch-tower, by Vulcan plann'd +With such rare skill, by Jove's command, +That every word which, whisper'd here, +Scarce vibrates to the neighbour ear, +On the still bosom of the air +Is borne and heard distinctly there-- 190 +The palace of an ancient dame +Whom men as well as gods call Fame. + A prattling gossip, on whose tongue +Proof of perpetual motion hung, +Whose lungs in strength all lungs surpass, +Like her own trumpet made of brass; +Who with an hundred pair of eyes +The vain attacks of sleep defies; +Who with an hundred pair of wings +News from the furthest quarters brings, 200 +Sees, hears, and tells, untold before, +All that she knows and ten times more. + Not all the virtues which we find +Concenter'd in a Hunter's[218] mind, +Can make her spare the rancorous tale, +If in one point she chance to fail; +Or if, once in a thousand years, +A perfect character appears, +Such as of late with joy and pride +My soul possess'd, ere Arrow died; 210 +Or such as, Envy must allow, +The world enjoys in Hunter now; +This hag, who aims at all alike, +At virtues e'en like theirs will strike, +And make faults in the way of trade, +When she can't find them ready made. + All things she takes in, small and great, +Talks of a toy-shop and a state; +Of wits and fools, of saints and kings, +Of garters, stars, and leading strings; 220 +Of old lords fumbling for a clap, +And young ones full of prayer and pap; +Of courts, of morals, and tye-wigs, +Of bears and Serjeants dancing jigs; +Of grave professors at the bar +Learning to thrum on the guitar, +Whilst laws are slubber'd o'er in haste, +And Judgment sacrificed to Taste; +Of whited sepulchres, lawn sleeves, +And God's house made a den of thieves: 230 +Of funeral pomps,[220] where clamours hung, +And fix'd disgrace on every tongue, +Whilst Sense and Order blush'd to see +Nobles without humanity; +Of coronations,[221] where each heart, +With honest raptures, bore a part; +Of city feasts, where Elegance +Was proud her colours to advance, +And Gluttony, uncommon case, +Could only get the second place; 240 +Of new-raised pillars in the state, +Who must be good, as being great; +Of shoulders, on which honours sit +Almost as clumsily as wit; +Of doughty knights, whom titles please, +But not the payment of the fees; +Of lectures, whither every fool, +In second childhood, goes to school; +Of graybeards, deaf to Reason's call, +From Inn of Court, or City Hall, 250 +Whom youthful appetites enslave, +With one foot fairly in the grave, +By help of crutch, a needful brother, +Learning of Hart[222] to dance with t'other; +Of doctors regularly bred +To fill the mansions of the dead; +Of quacks, (for quacks they must be still, +Who save when forms require to kill) +Who life, and health, and vigour give +To him, not one would wish to live; 260 +Of artists who, with noblest view, +Disinterested plans pursue, +For trembling worth the ladder raise, +And mark out the ascent to praise; +Of arts and sciences, where meet, +Sublime, profound, and all complete, +A set[223] (whom at some fitter time +The Muse shall consecrate in rhyme) +Who, humble artists to out-do, +A far more liberal plan pursue, 270 +And let their well-judged premiums fall +On those who have no worth at all; +Of sign-post exhibitions, raised +For laughter more than to be praised, +(Though, by the way, we cannot see +Why Praise and Laughter mayn't agree) +Where genuine humour runs to waste, +And justly chides our want of taste, +Censured, like other things, though good, +Because they are not understood. 280 + To higher subjects now she soars, +And talks of politics and whores; +(If to your nice and chaster ears +That term indelicate appears, +Scripture politely shall refine, +And melt it into concubine) +In the same breath spreads Bourbon's league;[224] +And publishes the grand intrigue; +In Brussels or our own Gazette[225] +Makes armies fight which never met, 290 +And circulates the pox or plague +To London, by the way of Hague; +For all the lies which there appear +Stamp'd with authority come here; +Borrows as freely from the gabble +Of some rude leader of a rabble, +Or from the quaint harangues of those +Who lead a nation by the nose, +As from those storms which, void of art, +Burst from our honest patriot's heart,[226] 300 +When Eloquence and Virtue, (late +Remark'd to live in mutual hate) +Fond of each other's friendship grown, +Claim every sentence for their own; +And with an equal joy recites +Parade amours and half-pay fights, +Perform'd by heroes of fair weather, +Merely by dint of lace and feather, +As those rare acts which Honour taught +Our daring sons where Granby[227] fought, 310 +Or those which, with superior skill, +Sackville achieved by standing still. + This hag, (the curious, if they please, +May search, from earliest times to these, +And poets they will always see +With gods and goddesses make free, +Treating them all, except the Muse, +As scarcely fit to wipe their shoes) +Who had beheld, from first to last, +How our triumvirate had pass'd 320 +Night's dreadful interval, and heard, +With strict attention, every word, +Soon as she saw return of light, +On sounding pinions took her flight. + Swift through the regions of the sky, +Above the reach of human eye, +Onward she drove the furious blast, +And rapid as a whirlwind pass'd, +O'er countries, once the seats of Taste, +By Time and Ignorance laid waste; 330 +O'er lands, where former ages saw +Reason and Truth the only law; +Where Arts and Arms, and Public Love, +In generous emulation strove; +Where kings were proud of legal sway, +And subjects happy to obey, +Though now in slavery sunk, and broke +To Superstition's galling yoke; +Of Arts, of Arms, no more they tell, +Or Freedom, which with Science fell, 340 +By tyrants awed, who never find +The passage to their people's mind; +To whom the joy was never known +Of planting in the heart their throne; +Far from all prospect of relief, +Their hours in fruitless prayers and grief, +For loss of blessings, they employ, +Which we unthankfully enjoy. + Now is the time (had we the will) +To amaze the reader with our skill, 350 +To pour out such a flood of knowledge +As might suffice for a whole college, +Whilst with a true poetic force, +We traced the goddess in her course, +Sweetly describing, in our flight, +Each common and uncommon sight, +Making our journal gay and pleasant, +With things long past, and things now present. +Rivers--once nymphs--(a transformation +Is mighty pretty in relation) 360 +From great authorities we know +Will matter for a tale bestow: +To make the observation clear, +We give our friends an instance here. + The day (that never is forgot) +Was very fine, but very hot; +The nymph (another general rule) +Inflamed with heat, laid down to cool; +Her hair (we no exceptions find) +Waved careless, floating in the wind; 370 +Her heaving breasts, like summer seas, +Seem'd amorous of the playful breeze: +Should fond Description tune our lays +In choicest accents to her praise, +Description we at last should find, +Baffled and weak, would halt behind. +Nature had form'd her to inspire +In every bosom soft desire; +Passions to raise, she could not feel, +Wounds to inflict, she would not heal. 380 +A god, (his name is no great matter, +Perhaps a Jove, perhaps a Satyr) +Raging with lust, a godlike flame, +By chance, as usual, thither came; +With gloating eye the fair one view'd, +Desired her first, and then pursued: +She (for what other can she do?) +Must fly--or how can he pursue? +The Muse (so custom hath decreed) +Now proves her spirit by her speed, 390 +Nor must one limping line disgrace +The life and vigour of the race; +She runs, and he runs, till at length, +Quite destitute of breath and strength, +To Heaven (for there we all apply +For help, when there's no other nigh) +She offers up her virgin prayer, +(Can virgins pray unpitied there?) +And when the god thinks he has caught her, +Slips through his hands and runs to water, 400 +Becomes a stream, in which the poet, +If he has any wit, may show it. + A city once for power renown'd +Now levell'd even to the ground, +Beyond all doubt is a direction +To introduce some fine reflection. + Ah, woeful me! ah, woeful man! +Ah, woeful all, do all we can! +Who can on earthly things depend +From one to t'other moment's end? 410 +Honour, wit, genius, wealth, and glory, +Good lack! good lack! are transitory; +Nothing is sure and stable found, +The very earth itself turns round: +Monarchs, nay ministers, must die, +Must rot, must stink--ah, me! ah, why! +Cities themselves in time decay; +If cities thus--ah, well-a-day! +If brick and mortar have an end, +On what can flesh and blood depend! 420 +Ah, woeful me! ah, woeful man! +Ah, woeful all, do all we can! + England, (for that's at last the scene, +Though worlds on worlds should rise between, +Whither we must our course pursue) +England should call into review +Times long since past indeed, but not +By Englishmen to be forgot, +Though England, once so dear to Fame, +Sinks in Great Britain's dearer name. 430 + Here could we mention chiefs of old, +In plain and rugged honour bold, +To Virtue kind, to Vice severe, +Strangers to bribery and fear, +Who kept no wretched clans in awe, +Who never broke or warp'd the law; +Patriots, whom, in her better days, +Old Rome might have been proud to raise; +Who, steady to their country's claim, +Boldly stood up in Freedom's name, 440 +E'en to the teeth of tyrant Pride, +And when they could no more, they died. + There (striking contrast!) might we place +A servile, mean, degenerate race; +Hirelings, who valued nought but gold, +By the best bidder bought and sold; +Truants from Honour's sacred laws, +Betrayers of their country's cause; +The dupes of party, tools of power, +Slaves to the minion of an hour; 450 +Lackies, who watch'd a favourite's nod, +And took a puppet for their god. + Sincere and honest in our rhymes, +How might we praise these happier times! +How might the Muse exalt her lays, +And wanton in a monarch's praise! +Tell of a prince, in England born, +Whose virtues England's crown adorn, +In youth a pattern unto age, +So chaste, so pious, and so sage; 460 +Who, true to all those sacred bands, +Which private happiness demands, +Yet never lets them rise above +The stronger ties of public love. + With conscious pride see England stand, +Our holy Charter in her hand; +She waves it round, and o'er the isle +See Liberty and Courage smile. +No more she mourns her treasures hurl'd +In subsidies to all the world; 470 +No more by foreign threats dismay'd, +No more deceived with foreign aid, +She deals out sums to petty states, +Whom Honour scorns and Reason hates, +But, wiser by experience grown, +Finds safety in herself alone. + 'Whilst thus,' she cries, 'my children stand +An honest, valiant, native band, +A train'd militia, brave and free, +True to their king, and true to me, 480 +No foreign hirelings shall be known, +Nor need we hirelings of our own: +Under a just and pious reign +The statesman's sophistry is vain; +Vain is each vile, corrupt pretence, +These are my natural defence; +Their faith I know, and they shall prove +The bulwark of the king they love.' + These, and a thousand things beside, +Did we consult a poet's pride, 490 +Some gay, some serious, might be said, +But ten to one they'd not be read; +Or were they by some curious few, +Not even those would think them true; +For, from the time that Jubal first +Sweet ditties to the harp rehearsed, +Poets have always been suspected +Of having truth in rhyme neglected, +That bard except, who from his youth +Equally famed for faith and truth, 500 +By Prudence taught, in courtly chime +To courtly ears brought truth in rhyme.[228] + But though to poets we allow, +No matter when acquired or how, +From truth unbounded deviation, +Which custom calls Imagination, +Yet can't they be supposed to lie +One half so fast as Fame can fly; +Therefore (to solve this Gordian knot, +A point we almost had forgot) 510 +To courteous readers be it known, +That, fond of verse and falsehood grown, +Whilst we in sweet digression sung, +Fame check'd her flight, and held her tongue, +And now pursues, with double force +And double speed, her destined course, +Nor stops till she the place[229] arrives +Where Genius starves and Dulness thrives; +Where riches virtue are esteem'd +And craft is truest wisdom deem'd, 520 +Where Commerce proudly rears her throne, +In state to other lands unknown: +Where, to be cheated and to cheat, +Strangers from every quarter meet; +Where Christians, Jews, and Turks shake hands, +United in commercial bands: +All of one faith, and that to own +No god but Interest alone. + When gods and goddesses come down +To look about them here in Town, 530 +(For change of air is understood +By sons of Physic to be good, +In due proportions, now and then, +For these same gods as well as men) +By custom ruled, and not a poet +So very dull but he must know it, +In order to remain _incog_. +They always travel in a fog; +For if we majesty expose +To vulgar eyes, too cheap it grows; 540 +The force is lost, and free from awe, +We spy and censure every flaw; +But well preserved from public view, +It always breaks forth fresh and new; +Fierce as the sun in all his pride +It shines, and not a spot's descried. + Was Jove to lay his thunder by, +And with his brethren of the sky +Descend to earth, and frisk about, +Like chattering N----[230] from rout to rout, 550 +He would be found, with all his host, +A nine days' wonder at the most. +Would we in trim our honours wear, +We must preserve them from the air; +What is familiar men neglect, +However worthy of respect. +Did they not find a certain friend +In Novelty to recommend, +(Such we, by sad experience, find +The wretched folly of mankind) 560 +Venus might unattractive shine, +And Hunter fix no eyes but mine. +But Fame, who never cared a jot +Whether she was admired or not, +And never blush'd to show her face +At any time in any place, +In her own shape, without disguise, +And visible to mortal eyes, +On 'Change exact at seven o'clock +Alighted on the weathercock, 570 +Which, planted there time out of mind +To note the changes of the wind, +Might no improper emblem be +Of her own mutability. + Thrice did she sound her trump, (the same +Which from the first belong'd to Fame, +An old ill-favour'd instrument, +With which the goddess was content, +Though under a politer race +Bagpipes might well supply its place) 580 +And thrice, awaken'd by the sound, +A general din prevail'd around; +Confusion through the city pass'd, +And Fear bestrode the dreadful blast. + Those fragrant currents, which we meet +Distilling soft through every street, +Affrighted from the usual course, +Ran murmuring upwards to their source; +Statues wept tears of blood, as fast +As when a Caesar breathed his last; 590 +Horses, which always used to go +A foot-pace in my Lord Mayor's show, +Impetuous from their stable broke, +And aldermen and oxen spoke. + Halls felt the force, towers shook around, +And steeples nodded to the ground; +St Paul himself (strange sight!) was seen +To bow as humbly as the Dean; +The Mansion House, for ever placed +A monument of City taste, 600 +Trembled, and seem'd aloud to groan +Through all that hideous weight of stone. + To still the sound, or stop her ears, +Remove the cause or sense of fears, +Physic, in college seated high, +Would anything but medicine try. +No more in Pewterer's Hall[231] was heard +The proper force of every word; +Those seats were desolate become, +A hapless Elocution dumb. 610 +Form, city-born and city-bred, +By strict Decorum ever led, +Who threescore years had known the grace +Of one dull, stiff, unvaried pace, +Terror prevailing over Pride, +Was seen to take a larger stride; +Worn to the bone, and clothed in rags, +See Avarice closer hug his bags; +With her own weight unwieldy grown, +See Credit totter on her throne; 620 +Virtue alone, had she been there, +The mighty sound, unmoved, could bear. + Up from the gorgeous bed, where Fate +Dooms annual fools to sleep in state, +To sleep so sound that not one gleam +Of Fancy can provoke a dream, +Great Dulman[232] started at the sound, +Gaped, rubb'd his eyes, and stared around. +Much did he wish to know, much fear, +Whence sounds so horrid struck his ear, 630 +So much unlike those peaceful notes, +That equal harmony, which floats +On the dull wing of City air, +Grave prelude to a feast or fair: +Much did he inly ruminate +Concerning the decrees of Fate, +Revolving, though to little end, +What this same trumpet might portend. + Could the French--no--that could not be, +Under Bute's active ministry, 640 +Too watchful to be so deceived-- +Have stolen hither unperceived? +To Newfoundland,[233] indeed, we know +Fleets of war unobserved may go; +Or, if observed, may be supposed, +At intervals when Reason dozed, +No other point in view to bear +But pleasure, health, and change of air; +But Reason ne'er could sleep so sound +To let an enemy be found 650 +In our land's heart, ere it was known +They had departed from their own. + Or could his successor, (Ambition +Is ever haunted with suspicion) +His daring successor elect, +All customs, rules, and forms reject, +And aim,[234] regardless of the crime, +To seize the chair before his time? + Or (deeming this the lucky hour, +Seeing his countrymen in power, 660 +Those countrymen, who, from the first, +In tumults and rebellion nursed, +Howe'er they wear the mask of art, +Still love a Stuart in their heart) +Could Scottish Charles---- + Conjecture thus, +That mental _ignis fatuus_, +Led his poor brains a weary dance +From France to England, hence to France, +Till Information in the shape +Of chaplain learned, good Sir Crape, 670 +A lazy, lounging, pamper'd priest, +Well known at every city feast, +For he was seen much oftener there +Than in the house of God at prayer; +Who, always ready in his place, +Ne'er let God's creatures wait for grace, +Though, as the best historians write, +Less famed for faith than appetite; +His disposition to reveal, +The grace was short, and long the meal; 680 +Who always would excess admit, +If haunch or turtle came with it, +And ne'er engaged in the defence +Of self-denying Abstinence, +When he could fortunately meet +With anything he liked to eat; +Who knew that wine, on Scripture plan, +Was made to cheer the heart of man; +Knew too, by long experience taught, +That cheerfulness was kill'd by thought; 690 +And from those premises collected, +(Which few perhaps would have suspected) +That none who, with due share of sense, +Observed the ways of Providence, +Could with safe conscience leave off drinking +Till they had lost the power of thinking; +With eyes half-closed came waddling in, +And, having stroked his double chin, +(That chin, whose credit to maintain +Against the scoffs of the profane, 700 +Had cost him more than ever state +Paid for a poor electorate,[235] +Which, after all the cost and rout +It had been better much without) +Briefly (for breakfast, you must know, +Was waiting all the while below) +Related, bowing to the ground, +The cause of that uncommon sound; +Related, too, that at the door +Pomposo, Plausible, and Moore, 710 +Begg'd that Fame might not be allow'd +Their shame to publish to the crowd; +That some new laws he would provide, +(If old could not be misapplied +With as much ease and safety there +As they are misapplied elsewhere) +By which it might be construed treason +In man to exercise his reason; +Which might ingeniously devise +One punishment for truth and lies, 720 +And fairly prove, when they had done, +That truth and falsehood were but one; +Which juries must indeed retain, +But their effects should render vain, +Making all real power to rest +In one corrupted rotten breast, +By whose false gloss the very Bible +Might be interpreted a libel. + Moore (who, his reverence to save, +Pleaded the fool to screen the knave, 730 +Though all who witness'd on his part +Swore for his head against his heart) +Had taken down, from first to last, +A just account of all that pass'd; +But, since the gracious will of Fate, +Who mark'd the child for wealth and state +E'en in the cradle, had decreed +The mighty Dulman ne'er should read, +That office of disgrace to bear +The smooth-lipp'd Plausible[236] was there; 740 +From Holborn e'en to Clerkenwell, +Who knows not smooth-lipp'd Plausible? +A preacher, deem'd of greatest note +For preaching that which others wrote. + Had Dulman now, (and fools, we see, +Seldom want curiosity) +Consented (but the mourning shade +Of Gascoyne hasten'd to his aid, +And in his hand--what could he more-- +Triumphant Canning's picture bore) 750 +That our three heroes should advance +And read their comical romance, +How rich a feast, what royal fare, +We for our readers might prepare! +So rich and yet so safe a feast, +That no one foreign blatant beast, +Within the purlieus of the law, +Should dare thereon to lay his paw, +And, growling, cry, with surly tone, +'Keep off--this feast is all my own.' 760 + Bending to earth the downcast eye, +Or planting it against the sky, +As one immersed in deepest thought, +Or with some holy vision caught, +His hands, to aid the traitor's art, +Devoutly folded o'er his heart; +Here Moore, in fraud well skill'd, should go, +All saint, with solemn step and slow. +Oh, that Religion's sacred name, +Meant to inspire the purest flame, 770 +A prostitute should ever be +To that arch-fiend Hypocrisy, +Where we find every other vice +Crown'd with damn'd sneaking cowardice! +Bold sin reclaim'd is often seen, +Past hope that man, who dares be mean. + There, full of flesh, and full of grace, +With that fine round unmeaning face +Which Nature gives to sons of earth +Whom she designs for ease and mirth, 780 +Should the prim Plausible be seen, +Observe his stiff, affected mien; +'Gainst Nature, arm'd by Gravity, +His features too in buckle see; +See with what sanctity he reads, +With what devotion tells his beads! +Now, prophet, show me, by thine art, +What's the religion of his heart: +Show there, if truth thou canst unfold, +Religion centred all in gold; 790 +Show him, nor fear Correction's rod, +As false to friendship, as to God. + Horrid, unwieldy, without form. +Savage as ocean in a storm, +Of size prodigious, in the rear, +That post of honour, should appear +Pomposo; fame around should tell +How he a slave to Interest fell; +How, for integrity renown'd, +Which booksellers have often found, 800 +He for subscribers baits his hook,[237] +And takes their cash--but where's the book? +No matter where--wise fear, we know, +Forbids the robbing of a foe; +But what, to serve our private ends, +Forbids the cheating of our friends? +No man alive, who would not swear +All's safe, and therefore honest there; +For, spite of all the learned say, +If we to truth attention pay, 810 +The word dishonesty is meant +For nothing else but punishment. +Fame, too, should tell, nor heed the threat +Of rogues, who brother rogues abet, +Nor tremble at the terrors hung +Aloft, to make her hold her tongue, +How to all principles untrue, +Not fix'd to old friends nor to new, +He damns the pension which he takes +And loves the Stuart he forsakes. 820 +Nature (who, justly regular, +Is very seldom known to err, +But now and then, in sportive mood, +As some rude wits have understood, +Or through much work required in haste, +Is with a random stroke disgraced) +Pomposo, form'd on doubtful plan, +Not quite a beast, nor quite a man; +Like--God knows what--for never yet +Could the most subtle human wit 830 +Find out a monster which might be +The shadow of a simile. + These three, these great, these mighty three,-- +Nor can the poet's truth agree, +Howe'er report hath done him wrong, +And warp'd the purpose of his song, +Amongst the refuse of their race, +The sons of Infamy, to place +That open, generous, manly mind, +Which we, with joy, in Aldrich[238] find-- 840 +These three, who now are faintly shown, +Just sketch'd, and scarcely to be known, +If Dulman their request had heard, +In stronger colours had appear'd, +And friends, though partial, at first view, +Shuddering, had own'd the picture true. + But had their journal been display'd, +And their whole process open laid, +What a vast unexhausted field +For mirth must such a journal yield! 850 +In her own anger strongly charm'd, +'Gainst Hope, 'gainst Fear, by Conscience arm'd, +Then had bold Satire made her way, +Knights, lords, and dukes, her destined prey. +But Prudence--ever sacred name +To those who feel not Virtue's flame, +Or only feel it, at the best, +As the dull dupe of Interest!-- +Whisper'd aloud (for this we find +A custom current with mankind, 860 +So loud to whisper, that each word +May all around be plainly heard; +And Prudence, sure, would never miss +A custom so contrived as this +Her candour to secure, yet aim +Sure death against another's fame): +'Knights, lords, and dukes!--mad wretch, forbear, +Dangers unthought of ambush there; +Confine thy rage to weaker slaves, +Laugh at small fools, and lash small knaves; 870 +But never, helpless, mean, and poor, +Rush on, where laws cannot secure; +Nor think thyself, mistaken youth! +Secure in principles of truth: +Truth! why shall every wretch of letters +Dare to speak truth against his betters! +Let ragged Virtue stand aloof, +Nor mutter accents of reproof; +Let ragged Wit a mute become, +When Wealth and Power would have her dumb; 880 +For who the devil doth not know +That titles and estates bestow +An ample stock, where'er they fall, +Of graces which we mental call? +Beggars, in every age and nation, +Are rogues and fools by situation; +The rich and great are understood +To be of course both wise and good. +Consult, then, Interest more than Pride, +Discreetly take the stronger side; 890 +Desert, in time, the simple few +Who Virtue's barren path pursue; +Adopt my maxims--follow me-- +To Baal bow the prudent knee; +Deny thy God, betray thy friend, +At Baal's altars hourly bend, +So shalt thou rich and great be seen; +To be great now, you must be mean.' + Hence, Tempter, to some weaker soul, +Which fear and interest control; 900 +Vainly thy precepts are address'd +Where Virtue steels the steady breast; +Through meanness wade to boasted power, +Through guilt repeated every hour; +What is thy gain, when all is done, +What mighty laurels hast thou won? +Dull crowds, to whom the heart's unknown, +Praise thee for virtues not thine own: +But will, at once man's scourge and friend, +Impartial Conscience too commend? 910 +From her reproaches canst thou fly? +Canst thou with worlds her silence buy? +Believe it not--her stings shall find +A passage to thy coward mind: +There shall she fix her sharpest dart; +There show thee truly as thou art, +Unknown to those by whom thou 'rt prized, +Known to thyself to be despised. + The man who weds the sacred Muse, +Disdains all mercenary views, 920 +And he, who Virtue's throne would rear +Laughs at the phantoms raised by Fear. +Though Folly, robed in purple, shines, +Though Vice exhausts Peruvian mines, +Yet shall they tremble, and turn pale, +When Satire wields her mighty flail; +Or should they, of rebuke afraid, +With Melcombe[239] seek hell's deepest shade, +Satire, still mindful of her aim, +Shall bring the cowards back to shame. 930 + Hated by many, loved by few, +Above each little private view, +Honest, though poor, (and who shall dare +To disappoint my boasting there?) +Hardy and resolute, though weak, +The dictates of my heart to speak, +Willing I bend at Satire's throne; +What power I have be all her own. + Nor shall yon lawyer's specious art, +Conscious of a corrupted heart, 940 +Create imaginary fear +To damp us in our bold career. +Why should we fear? and what? The laws? +They all are arm'd in Virtue's cause; +And aiming at the self-same end, +Satire is always Virtue's friend. +Nor shall that Muse, whose honest rage, +In a corrupt degenerate age, +(When, dead to every nicer sense, +Deep sunk in vice and indolence, 950 +The spirit of old Rome was broke +Beneath the tyrant fiddler's yoke) +Banish'd the rose from Nero's cheek, +Under a Brunswick fear to speak. + Drawn by Conceit from Reason's plan, +How vain is that poor creature, Man! +How pleased is every paltry elf +To prate about that thing, himself! +After my promise made in rhyme, +And meant in earnest at that time, 960 +To jog, according to the mode, +In one dull pace, in one dull road, +What but that curse of heart and head +To this digression could have led? +Where plunged, in vain I look about, +And can't stay in, nor well get out. + Could I, whilst Humour held the quill, +Could I digress with half that skill; +Could I with half that skill return, +Which we so much admire in Sterne, 970 +Where each digression, seeming vain, +And only fit to entertain, +Is found, on better recollection, +To have a just and nice connexion, +To help the whole with wondrous art, +Whence it seems idly to depart; +Then should our readers ne'er accuse +These wild excursions of the Muse; +Ne'er backward turn dull pages o'er +To recollect what went before; 980 +Deeply impress'd, and ever new, +Each image past should start to view, +And we to Dulman now come in, +As if we ne'er had absent been. + Have you not seen, when danger's near, +The coward cheek turn white with fear? +Have you not seen, when danger's fled, +The self-same cheek with joy turn red? +These are low symptoms which we find, +Fit only for a vulgar mind, 990 +Where honest features, void of art, +Betray the feelings of the heart; +Our Dulman with a face was bless'd, +Where no one passion was express'd; +His eye, in a fine stupor caught, +Implied a plenteous lack of thought; +Nor was one line that whole face seen in +Which could be justly charged with meaning. + To Avarice by birth allied, +Debauch'd by marriage into Pride, 1000 +In age grown fond of youthful sports, +Of pomps, of vanities, and courts, +And by success too mighty made +To love his country or his trade; +Stiff in opinion, (no rare case +With blockheads in or out of place) +Too weak, and insolent of soul +To suffer Reason's just control, +But bending, of his own accord, +To that trim transient toy, my lord; 1010 +The dupe of Scots, (a fatal race, +Whom God in wrath contrived to place +To scourge our crimes, and gall our pride, +A constant thorn in England's side; +Whom first, our greatness to oppose, +He in his vengeance mark'd for foes; +Then, more to serve his wrathful ends, +And more to curse us, mark'd for friends) +Deep in the state, if we give credit +To him, for no one else e'er said it, 1020 +Sworn friend of great ones not a few, +Though he their titles only knew, +And those (which, envious of his breeding, +Book-worms have charged to want of reading) +Merely to show himself polite +He never would pronounce aright; +An orator with whom a host +Of those which Rome and Athens boast, +In all their pride might not contend; +Who, with no powers to recommend, 1030 +Whilst Jackey Hume, and Billy Whitehead, +And Dicky Glover,[240] sat delighted, +Could speak whole days in Nature's spite, +Just as those able versemen write; +Great Dulman from his bed arose-- +Thrice did he spit--thrice wiped his nose-- +Thrice strove to smile--thrice strove to frown-- +And thrice look'd up--and thrice look'd down-- +Then silence broke--'Crape, who am I?' +Crape bow'd, and smiled an arch reply. 1040 +'Am I not, Crape? I am, you know, +Above all those who are below. +Hare I not knowledge? and for wit, +Money will always purchase it: +Nor, if it needful should be found, +Will I grudge ten or twenty pound, +For which the whole stock may be bought +Of scoundrel wits, not worth a groat. +But lest I should proceed too far, +I'll feel my friend the Minister, 1050 +(Great men, Crape, must not be neglected) +How he in this point is affected; +For, as I stand a magistrate, +To serve him first, and next the state, +Perhaps he may not think it fit +To let his magistrates have wit. + Boast I not, at this very hour, +Those large effects which troop with power? +Am I not mighty in the land? +Do not I sit whilst others stand? 1060 +Am I not with rich garments graced, +In seat of honour always placed? +And do not cits of chief degree, +Though proud to others, bend to me? + Have I not, as a Justice ought, +The laws such wholesome rigour taught, +That Fornication, in disgrace, +Is now afraid to show her face, +And not one whore these walls approaches +Unless they ride in their own coaches? 1070 +And shall this Fame, an old poor strumpet, +Without our licence sound her trumpet, +And, envious of our city's quiet, +In broad daylight blow up a riot? +If insolence like this we bear, +Where is our state? our office where? +Farewell, all honours of our reign; +Farewell, the neck-ennobling chain, +Freedom's known badge o'er all the globe; +Farewell, the solemn-spreading robe; 1080 +Farewell, the sword; farewell, the mace; +Farewell, all title, pomp, and place, +Removed from men of high degree, +(A loss to them, Crape, not to me) +Banish'd to Chippenham or to Frome, +Dulman once more shall ply the loom.' + Crape, lifting up his hands and eyes, +'Dulman!--the loom!--at Chippenham!'--cries; +'If there be powers which greatness love, +Which rule below, but dwell above, 1090 +Those powers united all shall join +To contradict the rash design. + Sooner shall stubborn Will[241] lay down +His opposition with his gown; +Sooner shall Temple leave the road +Which leads to Virtue's mean abode; +Sooner shall Scots this country quit, +And England's foes be friends to Pitt, +Than Dulman, from his grandeur thrown, +Shall wander outcast and unknown. 1100 +Sure as that cane,' (a cane there stood +Near to a table made of wood, +Of dry fine wood a table made, +By some rare artist in the trade, +Who had enjoy'd immortal praise +If he had lived in Homer's days) +'Sure as that cane, which once was seen +In pride of life all fresh and green, +The banks of Indus to adorn, +Then, of its leafy honours shorn, 1110 +According to exactest rule, +Was fashion'd by the workman's tool, +And which at present we behold +Curiously polish'd, crown'd with gold, +With gold well wrought; sure as that cane +Shall never on its native plain +Strike root afresh, shall never more +Flourish in tawny India's shore, +So sure shall Dulman and his race +To latest times this station grace.' 1120 + Dulman, who all this while had kept +His eyelids closed as if he slept, +Now looking steadfastly on Crape, +As at some god in human shape: +'Crape, I protest, you seem to me +To have discharged a prophecy: +Yes--from the first it doth appear +Planted by Fate, the Dulmans here +Have always held a quiet reign, +And here shall to the last remain. 1130 + 'Crape, they're all wrong about this ghost-- +Quite on the wrong side of the post-- +Blockheads! to take it in their head +To be a message from the dead, +For that by mission they design, +A word not half so good as mine. +Crape--here it is--start not one doubt-- +A plot--a plot--I've found it out.' +'O God!' cries Crape, 'how bless'd the nation, +Where one son boasts such penetration!' 1140 + 'Crape, I've not time to tell you now +When I discover'd this, or how; +To Stentor[242] go--if he's not there, +His place let Bully Norton bear-- +Our citizens to council call-- +Let all meet--'tis the cause of all: +Let the three witnesses attend, +With allegations to befriend, +To swear just so much, and no more, +As we instruct them in before. 1150 + 'Stay, Crape, come back--what! don't you see +The effects of this discovery? +Dulman all care and toil endures-- +The profit, Crape, will all be yours. +A mitre, (for, this arduous task +Perform'd, they'll grant whate'er I ask) +A mitre (and perhaps the best) +Shall, through my interest, make thee blest: +And at this time, when gracious Fate +Dooms to the Scot the reins of state, 1160 +Who is more fit (and for your use +We could some instances produce) +Of England's Church to be the head, +Than you, a Presbyterian bred? +But when thus mighty you are made, +Unlike the brethren of thy trade, +Be grateful, Crape, and let me not, +Like old Newcastle,[243] be forgot. + But an affair, Crape, of this size +Will ask from Conduct vast supplies; 1170 +It must not, as the vulgar say, +Be done in hugger-mugger way: +Traitors, indeed (and that's discreet) +Who hatch the plot, in private meet; +They should in public go, no doubt, +Whose business is to find it out. + To-morrow--if the day appear +Likely to turn out fair and clear-- +Proclaim a grand processionade[244]-- +Be all the city-pomp display'd, 1180 +Let the Train-bands'--Crape shook his head-- +They heard the trumpet, and were fled-- +'Well,' cries the Knight, 'if that's the case, +My servants shall supply their place-- +My servants--mine alone--no more +Than what my servants did before-- +Dost not remember, Crape, that day, +When, Dulman's grandeur to display, +As all too simple and too low, +Our city friends were thrust below, 1190 +Whilst, as more worthy of our love, +Courtiers were entertain'd above? +Tell me, who waited then? and how? +My servants-mine: and why not now?-- +In haste then, Crape, to Stentor go-- +But send up Hart, who waits below; +With him, till you return again, +(Reach me my spectacles and cane) +I'll make a proof how I advance in +My new accomplishment of dancing.' 1200 + Not quite so fast as lightning flies, +Wing'd with red anger, through the skies; +Not quite so fast as, sent by Jove, +Iris descends on wings of love; +Not quite so fast as Terror rides +When he the chasing winds bestrides, +Crape hobbled; but his mind was good-- +Could he go faster than he could? + Near to that tower, which, as we're told, +The mighty Julius raised of old, 1210 +Where, to the block by Justice led, +The rebel Scot hath often bled; +Where arms are kept so clean, so bright, +'Twere sin they should be soil'd in fight; +Where brutes of foreign race are shown +By brutes much greater of our own; +Fast by the crowded Thames, is found +An ample square of sacred ground, +Where artless Eloquence presides, +And Nature every sentence guides. 1220 + Here female parliaments debate +About religion, trade, and state; +Here every Naïad's patriot soul, +Disdaining foreign base control, +Despising French, despising Erse, +Pours forth the plain old English curse, +And bears aloft, with terrors hung, +The honours of the vulgar tongue. + Here Stentor, always heard with awe, +In thundering accents deals out law: 1230 +Twelve furlongs off each dreadful word +Was plainly and distinctly heard, +And every neighbour hill around +Return'd and swell'd the mighty sound; +The loudest virgin of the stream, +Compared with him would silent seem; +Thames, (who, enraged to find his course +Opposed, rolls down with double force, +Against the bridge indignant roars, +And lashes the resounding shores) 1240 +Compared with him, at lowest tide, +In softest whispers seems to glide. + Hither, directed by the noise, +Swell'd with the hope of future joys, +Through too much zeal and haste made lame, +The reverend slave of Dulman came. +'Stentor'--with such a serious air, +With such a face of solemn care, +As might import him to contain +A nation's welfare in his brain-- 1250 + 'Stentor,' cries Crape. 'I'm hither sent +On business of most high intent, +Great Dulman's orders to convey; +Dulman commands, and I obey; +Big with those throes which patriots feel, +And labouring for the commonweal, +Some secret, which forbids him rest, +Tumbles and tosses in his breast; +Tumbles and tosses to get free, +And thus the Chief commands by me: 1260 + 'To-morrow, if the day appear +Likely to turn out fair and clear, +Proclaim a grand processionade-- +Be all the city pomp display'd-- +Our citizens to council call-- +Let all meet--'tis the cause of all!' + + +BOOK IV. + + +Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence +To something of exalted sense +'Bove other men, and, gravely wise, +Affect those pleasures to despise, +Which, merely to the eye confined, +Bring no improvement to the mind, +Rail at all pomp; they would not go +For millions to a puppet-show, +Nor can forgive the mighty crime +Of countenancing pantomime; 10 +No, not at Covent Garden, where, +Without a head for play or player, +Or, could a head be found most fit, +Without one player to second it, +They must, obeying Folly's call, +Thrive by mere show, or not at all + With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!) +Most cruel to themselves, take pains +For wretchedness, and would be thought +Much wiser than a wise man ought, 20 +For his own happiness, to be; +Who what they hear, and what they see, +And what they smell, and taste, and feel, +Distrust, till Reason sets her seal, +And, by long trains of consequences +Insured, gives sanction to the senses; +Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste +One hour in what the world calls Taste, +Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry, +Unless they know some reason why; 30 +With these grave fops, whose system seems +To give up certainty for dreams, +The eye of man is understood +As for no other purpose good +Than as a door, through which, of course, +Their passage crowding, objects force, +A downright usher, to admit +New-comers to the court of Wit: +(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen; +When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean) 40 +Where (such the practice of the court, +Which legal precedents support) +Not one idea is allow'd +To pass unquestion'd in the crowd, +But ere it can obtain the grace +Of holding in the brain a place, +Before the chief in congregation +Must stand a strict examination. + Not such as those, who physic twirl, +Full fraught with death, from every curl; 50 +Who prove, with all becoming state, +Their voice to be the voice of Fate; +Prepared with essence, drop, and pill, +To be another Ward or Hill,[245] +Before they can obtain their ends, +To sign death-warrants for their friends, +And talents vast as theirs employ, +_Secundum artem_ to destroy, +Must pass (or laws their rage restrain) +Before the chiefs of Warwick Lane:[246] 60 +Thrice happy Lane! where, uncontroll'd, +In power and lethargy grown old, +Most fit to take, in this bless'd land, +The reins--which fell from Wyndham's hand,[247] +Her lawful throne great Dulness rears, +Still more herself, as more in years; +Where she, (and who shall dare deny +Her right, when Reeves[248] and Chauncy's[249] by?) +Calling to mind, in ancient time, +One Garth,[250] who err'd in wit and rhyme, 70 +Ordains, from henceforth, to admit +None of the rebel sons of Wit, +And makes it her peculiar care +That Schomberg[251] never shall be there. + Not such as those, whom Polly trains +To letters, though unbless'd with brains, +Who, destitute of power and will +To learn, are kept to learning still; +Whose heads, when other methods fail, +Receive instruction from the tail, 80 +Because their sires,--a common case +Which brings the children to disgrace,-- +Imagine it a certain rule +They never could beget a fool, +Must pass, or must compound for, ere +The chaplain, full of beef and prayer, +Will give his reverend permit, +Announcing them for orders fit; +So that the prelate (what's a name? +All prelates now are much the same) 90 +May, with a conscience safe and quiet, +With holy hands lay on that fiat +Which doth all faculties dispense, +All sanctity, all faith, all sense; +Makes Madan[252] quite a saint appear, +And makes an oracle of Cheere. + Not such as in that solemn seat, +Where the Nine Ladies hold retreat,-- +The Ladies Nine, who, as we're told, +Scorning those haunts they loved of old, 100 +The banks of Isis now prefer, +Nor will one hour from Oxford stir,-- +Are held for form, which Balaam's ass +As well as Balaam's self might pass, +And with his master take degrees, +Could he contrive to pay the fees. + Men of sound parts, who, deeply read, +O'erload the storehouse of the head +With furniture they ne'er can use, +Cannot forgive our rambling Muse 110 +This wild excursion; cannot see +Why Physic and Divinity, +To the surprise of all beholders, +Are lugg'd in by the head and shoulders; +Or how, in any point of view, +Oxford hath any thing to do. +But men of nice and subtle learning, +Remarkable for quick discerning, +Through spectacles of critic mould, +Without instruction, will behold 120 +That we a method here have got +To show what is, by what is not; +And that our drift (parenthesis +For once apart) is briefly this: + Within the brain's most secret cells +A certain Lord Chief-Justice dwells, +Of sovereign power, whom, one and all, +With common voice, we Reason call; +Though, for the purposes of satire, +A name, in truth, is no great matter; 130 +Jefferies or Mansfield, which you will-- +It means a Lord Chief-Justice still. +Here, so our great projectors say, +The Senses all must homage pay; +Hither they all must tribute bring, +And prostrate fall before their king; +Whatever unto them is brought, +Is carried on the wings of Thought +Before his throne, where, in full state, +He on their merits holds debate, 140 +Examines, cross-examines, weighs +Their right to censure or to praise: +Nor doth his equal voice depend +On narrow views of foe and friend, +Nor can, or flattery, or force +Divert him from his steady course; +The channel of Inquiry's clear, +No sham examination's here. + He, upright justicer, no doubt, +_Ad libitum_ puts in and out, 150 +Adjusts and settles in a trice +What virtue is, and what is vice; +What is perfection, what defect; +What we must choose, and what reject; +He takes upon him to explain +What pleasure is, and what is pain; +Whilst we, obedient to the whim, +And resting all our faith on him, +True members of the Stoic Weal, +Must learn to think, and cease to feel. 160 + This glorious system, form'd for man +To practise when and how he can, +If the five Senses, in alliance, +To Reason hurl a proud defiance, +And, though oft conquer'd, yet unbroke, +Endeavour to throw off that yoke, +Which they a greater slavery hold +Than Jewish bondage was of old; +Or if they, something touch'd with shame, +Allow him to retain the name 170 +Of Royalty, and, as in sport, +To hold a mimic formal court; +Permitted--no uncommon thing-- +To be a kind of puppet king, +And suffer'd, by the way of toy, +To hold a globe, but not employ; +Our system-mongers, struck with fear, +Prognosticate destruction near; +All things to anarchy must run; +The little world of man's undone. 180 + Nay, should the Eye, that nicest sense, +Neglect to send intelligence +Unto the Brain, distinct and clear, +Of all that passes in her sphere; +Should she, presumptuous, joy receive +Without the Understanding's leave, +They deem it rank and daring treason +Against the monarchy of Reason, +Not thinking, though they're wondrous wise, +That few have reason, most have eyes; 190 +So that the pleasures of the mind +To a small circle are confined, +Whilst those which to the senses fall +Become the property of all. +Besides, (and this is sure a case +Not much at present out of place) +Where Nature reason doth deny, +No art can that defect supply; +But if (for it is our intent +Fairly to state the argument) 200 +A man should want an eye or two, +The remedy is sure, though new: +The cure's at hand--no need of fear-- +For proof--behold the Chevalier![253]-- +As well prepared, beyond all doubt, +To put eyes in, as put them out. + But, argument apart, which tends +To embitter foes and separate friends, +(Nor, turn'd apostate from the Nine, +Would I, though bred up a divine, 210 +And foe, of course, to Reason's Weal, +Widen that breach I cannot heal) +By his own sense and feelings taught, +In speech as liberal as in thought, +Let every man enjoy his whim; +What's he to me, or I to him? +Might I, though never robed in ermine, +A matter of this weight determine, +No penalties should settled be +To force men to hypocrisy, 220 +To make them ape an awkward zeal, +And, feeling not, pretend to feel. +I would not have, might sentence rest +Finally fix'd within my breast, +E'en Annet[254] censured and confined, +Because we're of a different mind. + Nature, who, in her act most free, +Herself delights in liberty, +Profuse in love, and without bound, +Pours joy on every creature round; 230 +Whom yet, was every bounty shed +In double portions on our head, +We could not truly bounteous call, +If Freedom did not crown them all. + By Providence forbid to stray, +Brutes never can mistake their way; +Determined still, they plod along +By instinct, neither right nor wrong; +But man, had he the heart to use +His freedom, hath a right to choose; 240 +Whether he acts, or well, or ill, +Depends entirely on his will. +To her last work, her favourite Man, +Is given, on Nature's better plan, +A privilege in power to err. +Nor let this phrase resentment stir +Amongst the grave ones, since indeed +The little merit man can plead +In doing well, dependeth still +Upon his power of doing ill. 250 + Opinions should be free as air; +No man, whate'er his rank, whate'er +His qualities, a claim can found +That my opinion must be bound, +And square with his; such slavish chains +From foes the liberal soul disdains; +Nor can, though true to friendship, bend +To wear them even from a friend. +Let those, who rigid judgment own, +Submissive bow at Judgment's throne, 260 +And if they of no value hold +Pleasure, till pleasure is grown cold, +Pall'd and insipid, forced to wait +For Judgment's regular debate +To give it warrant, let them find +Dull subjects suited to their mind. +Theirs be slow wisdom; be my plan, +To live as merry as I can, +Regardless, as the fashions go, +Whether there's reason for't or no: 270 +Be my employment here on earth +To give a liberal scope to mirth, +Life's barren vale with flowers to adorn, +And pluck a rose from every thorn. + But if, by Error led astray, +I chance to wander from my way, +Let no blind guide observe, in spite, +I'm wrong, who cannot set me right. +That doctor could I ne'er endure +Who found disease, and not a cure; 280 +Nor can I hold that man a friend +Whose zeal a helping hand shall lend +To open happy Folly's eyes, +And, making wretched, make me wise: +For next (a truth which can't admit +Reproof from Wisdom or from Wit) +To being happy here below, +Is to believe that we are so. + Some few in knowledge find relief; +I place my comfort in belief. 290 +Some for reality may call; +Fancy to me is all in all. +Imagination, through the trick +Of doctors, often makes us sick; +And why, let any sophist tell, +May it not likewise make us well? +This I am sure, whate'er our view, +Whatever shadows we pursue, +For our pursuits, be what they will, +Are little more than shadows still; 300 +Too swift they fly, too swift and strong, +For man to catch or hold them long; +But joys which in the fancy live, +Each moment to each man may give: +True to himself, and true to ease, +He softens Fate's severe decrees, +And (can a mortal wish for more?) +Creates, and makes himself new o'er, +Mocks boasted vain reality, +And is, whate'er he wants to be. 310 + Hail, Fancy!--to thy power I owe +Deliverance from the gripe of Woe; +To thee I owe a mighty debt, +Which Gratitude shall ne'er forget, +Whilst Memory can her force employ, +A large increase of every joy. +When at my doors, too strongly barr'd, +Authority had placed a guard,[255] +A knavish guard, ordain'd by law +To keep poor Honesty in awe; 320 +Authority, severe and stern, +To intercept my wish'd return; +When foes grew proud, and friends grew cool, +And laughter seized each sober fool; +When Candour started in amaze, +And, meaning censure, hinted praise; +When Prudence, lifting up her eyes +And hands, thank'd Heaven that she was wise; +When all around me, with an air +Of hopeless sorrow, look'd despair; 330 +When they, or said, or seem'd to say, +There is but one, one only way +Better, and be advised by us, +Not be at all, than to be thus; +When Virtue shunn'd the shock, and Pride, +Disabled, lay by Virtue's side, +Too weak my ruffled soul to cheer, +Which could not hope, yet would not fear; +Health in her motion, the wild grace +Of pleasure speaking in her face, 340 +Dull regularity thrown by, +And comfort beaming from her eye, +Fancy, in richest robes array'd, +Came smiling forth, and brought me aid; +Came smiling o'er that dreadful time, +And, more to bless me, came in rhyme. + Nor is her power to me confined; +It spreads, it comprehends mankind. +When (to the spirit-stirring sound +Of trumpets breathing courage round, 350 +And fifes well-mingled, to restrain +And bring that courage down again; +Or to the melancholy knell +Of the dull, deep, and doleful bell, +Such as of late the good Saint Bride[256] +Muffled, to mortify the pride +Of those who, England quite forgot, +Paid their vile homage to the Scot; +Where Asgill held the foremost place, +Whilst my lord figured at a race) 360 +Processions ('tis not worth debate +Whether they are of stage or state) +Move on, so very, very slow, +Tis doubtful if they move, or no; +When the performers all the while +Mechanically frown or smile, +Or, with a dull and stupid stare, +A vacancy of sense declare, +Or, with down-bending eye, seem wrought +Into a labyrinth of thought, 370 +Where Reason wanders still in doubt, +And, once got in, cannot get out; +What cause sufficient can we find, +To satisfy a thinking mind, +Why, duped by such vain farces, man +Descends to act on such a plan? +Why they, who hold themselves divine, +Can in such wretched follies join, +Strutting like peacocks, or like crows, +Themselves and Nature to expose? 380 +What cause, but that (you'll understand +We have our remedy at hand, +That if perchance we start a doubt, +Ere it is fix'd, we wipe it out; +As surgeons, when they lop a limb, +Whether for profit, fame, or whim, +Or mere experiment to try, +Must always have a styptic by) +Fancy steps in, and stamps that real, +Which, _ipso facto_, is ideal. 390 + Can none remember?--yes, I know, +All must remember that rare show +When to the country Sense went down, +And fools came flocking up to town; +When knights (a work which all admit +To be for knighthood much unfit) +Built booths for hire; when parsons play'd, +In robes canonical array'd, +And, fiddling, join'd the Smithfield dance, +The price of tickets to advance: 400 +Or, unto tapsters turn'd, dealt out, +Running from booth to booth about, +To every scoundrel, by retail, +True pennyworths of beef and ale, +Then first prepared, by bringing beer in, +For present grand electioneering; +When heralds, running all about +To bring in Order, turn'd it out; +When, by the prudent Marshal's care, +Lest the rude populace should stare, 410 +And with unhallow'd eyes profane +Gay puppets of Patrician strain, +The whole procession, as in spite, +Unheard, unseen, stole off by night; +When our loved monarch, nothing both, +Solemnly took that sacred oath, +Whence mutual firm agreements spring +Betwixt the subject and the king, +By which, in usual manner crown'd, +His head, his heart, his hands, he bound, 420 +Against himself, should passion stir +The least propensity to err, +Against all slaves, who might prepare, +Or open force, or hidden snare, +That glorious Charter to maintain, +By which we serve, and he must reign; +Then Fancy, with unbounded sway, +Revell'd sole mistress of the day, +And wrought such wonders, as might make +Egyptian sorcerers forsake 430 +Their baffled mockeries, and own +The palm of magic hers alone. + A knight, (who, in the silken lap +Of lazy Peace, had lived on pap; +Who never yet had dared to roam +'Bove ten or twenty miles from home, +Nor even that, unless a guide +Was placed to amble by his side, +And troops of slaves were spread around +To keep his Honour safe and sound; 440 +Who could not suffer, for his life, +A point to sword, or edge to knife; +And always fainted at the sight +Of blood, though 'twas not shed in fight; +Who disinherited one son +For firing off an alder gun, +And whipt another, six years old, +Because the boy, presumptuous, bold +To madness, likely to become +A very Swiss, had beat a drum, 450 +Though it appear'd an instrument +Most peaceable and innocent, +Having, from first, been in the hands +And service of the City bands) +Graced with those ensigns, which were meant +To further Honour's dread intent, +The minds of warriors to inflame, +And spur them on to deeds of fame; +With little sword, large spurs, high feather, +Fearless of every thing but weather, 460 +(And all must own, who pay regard +To charity, it had been hard +That in his very first campaign +His honours should be soil'd with rain) +A hero all at once became, +And (seeing others much the same +In point of valour as himself, +Who leave their courage on a shelf +From year to year, till some such rout +In proper season calls it out) 470 +Strutted, look'd big, and swagger'd more +Than ever hero did before; +Look'd up, look'd down, look'd all around, +Like Mavors, grimly smiled and frown'd; +Seem'd Heaven, and Earth, and Hell to call +To fight, that he might rout them all, +And personated Valour's style +So long, spectators to beguile, +That, passing strange, and wondrous true, +Himself at last believed it too; 480 +Nor for a time could he discern, +Till Truth and Darkness took their turn, +So well did Fancy play her part, +That coward still was at the heart. + Whiffle (who knows not Whiffle's name, +By the impartial voice of Fame +Recorded first through all this land +In Vanity's illustrious band?) +Who, by all-bounteous Nature meant +For offices of hardiment, 490 +A modern Hercules at least, +To rid the world of each wild beast, +Of each wild beast which came in view, +Whether on four legs or on two, +Degenerate, delights to prove +His force on the parade of Love, +Disclaims the joys which camps afford, +And for the distaff quits the sword; +Who fond of women would appear +To public eye and public ear, 500 +But, when in private, lets them know +How little they can trust to show; +Who sports a woman, as of course, +Just as a jockey shows a horse, +And then returns her to the stable, +Or vainly plants her at his table, +Where he would rather Venus find +(So pall'd, and so depraved his mind) +Than, by some great occasion led, +To seize her panting in her bed, 510 +Burning with more than mortal fires, +And melting in her own desires; +Who, ripe in years, is yet a child, +Through fashion, not through feeling, wild; +Whate'er in others, who proceed +As Sense and Nature have decreed, +From real passion flows, in him +Is mere effect of mode and whim; +Who laughs, a very common way, +Because he nothing has to say, 520 +As your choice spirits oaths dispense +To fill up vacancies of sense; +Who, having some small sense, defies it, +Or, using, always misapplies it; +Who now and then brings something forth +Which seems indeed of sterling worth; +Something, by sudden start and fit, +Which at a distance looks like wit, +But, on examination near, +To his confusion will appear, 530 +By Truth's fair glass, to be at best +A threadbare jester's threadbare jest; +Who frisks and dances through the street, +Sings without voice, rides without seat, +Plays o'er his tricks, like Aesop's ass, +A gratis fool to all who pass; +Who riots, though he loves not waste, +Whores without lust, drinks without taste, +Acts without sense, talks without thought, +Does every thing but what he ought; 540 +Who, led by forms, without the power +Of vice, is vicious; who one hour, +Proud without pride, the next will be +Humble without humility: +Whose vanity we all discern, +The spring on which his actions turn; +Whose aim in erring, is to err, +So that he may be singular, +And all his utmost wishes mean +Is, though he's laugh'd at, to be seen: 550 +Such, (for when Flattery's soothing strain +Had robb'd the Muse of her disdain, +And found a method to persuade +Her art to soften every shade, +Justice, enraged, the pencil snatch'd +From her degenerate hand, and scratch'd +Out every trace; then, quick as thought, +From life this striking likeness caught) +In mind, in manners, and in mien, +Such Whiffle came, and such was seen 560 +In the world's eye; but (strange to tell!) +Misled by Fancy's magic spell, +Deceived, not dreaming of deceit, +Cheated, but happy in the cheat, +Was more than human in his own. +Oh, bow, bow all at Fancy's throne, +Whose power could make so vile an elf +With patience bear that thing, himself. + But, mistress of each art to please, +Creative Fancy, what are these, 570 +These pageants of a trifler's pen, +To what thy power effected then? +Familiar with the human mind, +And swift and subtle as the wind, +Which we all feel, yet no one knows, +Or whence it comes, or where it goes, +Fancy at once in every part +Possess'd the eye, the head, the heart, +And in a thousand forms array'd, +A thousand various gambols play'd. 580 + Here, in a face which well might ask +The privilege to wear a mask +In spite of law, and Justice teach +For public good to excuse the breach, +Within the furrow of a wrinkle +'Twixt eyes, which could not shine but twinkle, +Like sentinels i' th' starry way, +Who wait for the return of day, +Almost burnt out, and seem to keep +Their watch, like soldiers, in their sleep; 590 +Or like those lamps, which, by the power +Of law,[257] must burn from hour to hour, +(Else they, without redemption, fall +Under the terrors of that Hall,[258] +Which, once notorious for a hop, +Is now become a justice shop) +Which are so managed, to go out +Just when the time comes round about, +Which yet, through emulation, strive +To keep their dying light alive, 600 +And (not uncommon, as we find, +Amongst the children of mankind) +As they grow weaker, would seem stronger, +And burn a little, little longer: +Fancy, betwixt such eyes enshrined, +No brush to daub, no mill to grind, +Thrice waved her wand around, whose force +Changed in an instant Nature's course, +And, hardly credible in rhyme, +Not only stopp'd, but call'd back Time; 610 +The face of every wrinkle clear'd, +Smooth as the floating stream appear'd, +Down the neck ringlets spread their flame, +The neck admiring whence they came; +On the arch'd brow the Graces play'd; +On the full bosom Cupid laid; +Suns, from their proper orbits sent, +Became for eyes a supplement; +Teeth, white as ever teeth were seen, +Deliver'd from the hand of Green, 620 +Started, in regular array, +Like train-bands on a grand field day, +Into the gums, which would have fled, +But, wondering, turn'd from white to red; +Quite alter'd was the whole machine, +And Lady ---- ---- was fifteen. + Here she made lordly temples rise +Before the pious Dashwood's eyes, +Temples which, built aloft in air, +May serve for show, if not for prayer; 630 +In solemn form herself, before, +Array'd like Faith, the Bible bore. +There over Melcombe's feather'd head-- +Who, quite a man of gingerbread, +Savour'd in talk, in dress, and phiz, +More of another world than this, +To a dwarf Muse a giant page, +The last grave fop of the last age-- +In a superb and feather'd hearse, +Bescutcheon'd and betagg'd with verse, 640 +Which, to beholders from afar, +Appear'd like a triumphal car, +She rode, in a cast rainbow clad; +There, throwing off the hallow'd plaid, +Naked, as when (in those drear cells +Where, self-bless'd, self-cursed, Madness dwells) +Pleasure, on whom, in Laughter's shape, +Frenzy had perfected a rape, +First brought her forth, before her time, +Wild witness of her shame and crime, 650 +Driving before an idol band +Of drivelling Stuarts, hand in hand; +Some who, to curse mankind, had wore +A crown they ne'er must think of more; +Others, whose baby brows were graced +With paper crowns, and toys of paste, +She jigg'd, and, playing on the flute, +Spread raptures o'er the soul of Bute. + Big with vast hopes, some mighty plan, +Which wrought the busy soul of man 660 +To her full bent; the Civil Law, +Fit code to keep a world in awe, +Bound o'er his brows, fair to behold, +As Jewish frontlets were of old; +The famous Charter of our land +Defaced, and mangled in his hand; +As one whom deepest thoughts employ, +But deepest thoughts of truest joy, +Serious and slow he strode, he stalk'd; +Before him troops of heroes walk'd, 670 +Whom best he loved, of heroes crown'd, +By Tories guarded all around; +Dull solemn pleasure in his face, +He saw the honours of his race, +He saw their lineal glories rise, +And touch'd, or seem'd to touch, the skies: +Not the most distant mark of fear, +No sign of axe or scaffold near, +Not one cursed thought to cross his will +Of such a place as Tower Hill. 680 + Curse on this Muse, a flippant jade, +A shrew, like every other maid +Who turns the corner of nineteen, +Devour'd with peevishness and spleen; +Her tongue (for as, when bound for life, +The husband suffers for the wife, +So if in any works of rhyme +Perchance there blunders out a crime, +Poor culprit bards must always rue it, +Although 'tis plain the Muses do it) 690 +Sooner or later cannot fail +To send me headlong to a jail. +Whate'er my theme, (our themes we choose, +In modern days, without a Muse; +Just as a father will provide +To join a bridegroom and a bride, +As if, though they must be the players, +The game was wholly his, not theirs) +Whate'er my theme, the Muse, who still +Owns no direction but her will, 700 +Plies off, and ere I could expect, +By ways oblique and indirect, +At once quite over head and ears +In fatal politics appears. +Time was, and, if I aught discern +Of fate, that time shall soon return, +When, decent and demure at least, +As grave and dull as any priest, +I could see Vice in robes array'd, +Could see the game of Folly play'd 710 +Successfully in Fortune's school, +Without exclaiming rogue or fool. +Time was, when, nothing both or proud, +I lackey'd with the fawning crowd, +Scoundrels in office, and would bow +To cyphers great in place; but now +Upright I stand, as if wise Fate, +To compliment a shatter'd state, +Had me, like Atlas, hither sent +To shoulder up the firmament, 720 +And if I stoop'd, with general crack, +The heavens would tumble from my back. +Time was, when rank and situation +Secured the great ones of the nation +From all control; satire and law +Kept only little knaves in awe; +But now, Decorum lost, I stand +Bemused, a pencil in my hand, +And, dead to every sense of shame, +Careless of safety and of fame, 730 +The names of scoundrels minute down, +And libel more than half the town. + How can a statesman be secure +In all his villanies, if poor +And dirty authors thus shall dare +To lay his rotten bosom bare? +Muses should pass away their time +In dressing out the poet's rhyme +With bills, and ribands, and array +Each line in harmless taste, though gay; 740 +When the hot burning fit is on, +They should regale their restless son +With something to allay his rage, +Some cool Castalian beverage, +Or some such draught (though they, 'tis plain, +Taking the Muse's name in vain, +Know nothing of their real court, +And only fable from report) +As makes a Whitehead's Ode go down, +Or slakes the Feverette of Brown:[259] 750 +But who would in his senses think, +Of Muses giving gall to drink, +Or that their folly should afford +To raving poets gun or sword? +Poets were ne'er designed by Fate +To meddle with affairs of state, +Nor should (if we may speak our thought +Truly as men of honour ought) +Sound policy their rage admit, +To launch the thunderbolts of Wit 760 +About those heads, which, when they're shot, +Can't tell if 'twas by Wit or not. + These things well known, what devil, in spite, +Can have seduced me thus to write +Out of that road, which must have led +To riches, without heart or head, +Into that road, which, had I more +Than ever poet had before +Of wit and virtue, in disgrace +Would keep me still, and out of place; 770 +Which, if some judge (you'll understand +One famous, famous through the land +For making law[260]) should stand my friend, +At last may in a pillory end; +And all this, I myself admit, +Without one cause to lead to it? + For instance, now--this book--the Ghost-- +Methinks I hear some critic Post +Remark most gravely--'The first word +Which we about the Ghost have heard.' 780 +Peace, my good sir!--not quite so fast-- +What is the first, may be the last, +Which is a point, all must agree, +Cannot depend on you or me. +Fanny, no ghost of common mould, +Is not by forms to be controll'd; +To keep her state, and show her skill, +She never comes but when she will. +I wrote and wrote, (perhaps you doubt, +And shrewdly, what I wrote about; 790 +Believe me, much to my disgrace, +I, too, am in the self-same case;) +But still I wrote, till Fanny came +Impatient, nor could any shame +On me with equal justice fall +If she had never come at all. +An underling, I could not stir +Without the cue thrown out by her, +Nor from the subject aid receive +Until she came and gave me leave. 800 +So that, (ye sons of Erudition +Mark, this is but a supposition, +Nor would I to so wise a nation +Suggest it as a revelation) +If henceforth, dully turning o'er +Page after page, ye read no more +Of Fanny, who, in sea or air, +May be departed God knows where, +Rail at jilt Fortune; but agree +No censure can be laid on me; 810 +For sure (the cause let Mansfield try) +Fanny is in the fault, not I. + But, to return--and this I hold +A secret worth its weight in gold +To those who write, as I write now, +Not to mind where they go, or how, +Through ditch, through bog, o'er hedge and stile, +Make it but worth the reader's while, +And keep a passage fair and plain +Always to bring him back again. 820 +Through dirt, who scruples to approach, +At Pleasure's call, to take a coach? +But we should think the man a clown, +Who in the dirt should set us down. + But to return--if Wit, who ne'er +The shackles of restraint could bear, +In wayward humour should refuse +Her timely succour to the Muse, +And, to no rules and orders tied, +Roughly deny to be her guide, 830 +She must renounce Decorum's plan, +And get back when, and how she can; +As parsons, who, without pretext, +As soon as mention'd, quit their text, +And, to promote sleep's genial power, +Grope in the dark for half an hour, +Give no more reason (for we know +Reason is vulgar, mean, and low) +Why they come back (should it befall +That ever they come back at all) 840 +Into the road, to end their rout, +Than they can give why they went out. + But to return--this book--the Ghost-- +A mere amusement at the most; +A trifle, fit to wear away +The horrors of a rainy day; +A slight shot-silk, for summer wear, +Just as our modern statesmen are, +If rigid honesty permit +That I for once purloin the wit 850 +Of him, who, were we all to steal, +Is much too rich the theft to feel: +Yet in this book, where Base should join +With Mirth to sugar every line; +Where it should all be mere chit-chat, +Lively, good-humour'd, and all that; +Where honest Satire, in disgrace, +Should not so much as show her face, +The shrew, o'erleaping all due bounds, +Breaks into Laughter's sacred grounds, 860 +And, in contempt, plays o'er her tricks +In science, trade, and politics. + By why should the distemper'd scold +Attempt to blacken men enroll'd +In Power's dread book, whose mighty skill +Can twist an empire to their will; +Whose voice is fate, and on their tongue +Law, liberty, and life are hung; +Whom, on inquiry, Truth shall find +With Stuarts link'd, time out of mind, 870 +Superior to their country's laws, +Defenders of a tyrant's cause; +Men, who the same damn'd maxims hold +Darkly, which they avow'd of old; +Who, though by different means, pursue +The end which they had first in view, +And, force found vain, now play their part +With much less honour, much more art? +Why, at the corners of the streets, +To every patriot drudge she meets, 880 +Known or unknown, with furious cry +Should she wild clamours vent? or why, +The minds of groundlings to inflame, +A Dashwood, Bute, and Wyndham name? +Why, having not, to our surprise, +The fear of death before her eyes, +Bearing, and that but now and then, +No other weapon but her pen, +Should she an argument afford +For blood to men who wear a sword? 890 +Men, who can nicely trim and pare +A point of honour to a hair-- +(Honour!--a word of nice import, +A pretty trinket in a court, +Which my lord, quite in rapture, feels +Dangling and rattling with his seals-- +Honour!--a word which all the Nine +Would be much puzzled to define-- +Honour!--a word which torture mocks, +And might confound a thousand Lockes-- 900 +Which--for I leave to wiser heads, +Who fields of death prefer to beds +Of down, to find out, if they can, +What honour is, on their wild plan-- +Is not, to take it in their way, +And this we sure may dare to say +Without incurring an offence, +Courage, law, honesty, or sense): +Men, who, all spirit, life, and soul +Neat butchers of a button-hole, 910 +Having more skill, believe it true +That they must have more courage too: +Men who, without a place or name, +Their fortunes speechless as their fame, +Would by the sword new fortunes carve, +And rather die in fight than starve +At coronations, a vast field, +Which food of every kind might yield; +Of good sound food, at once most fit +For purposes of health and wit, 920 +Could not ambitious Satire rest, +Content with what she might digest? +Could she not feast on things of course, +A champion, or a champion's horse? +A champion's horse--no, better say, +Though better figured on that day,[261] +A horse, which might appear to us, +Who deal in rhyme, a Pegasus; +A rider, who, when once got on, +Might pass for a Bellerophon, 930 +Dropt on a sudden from the skies, +To catch and fix our wondering eyes, +To witch, with wand instead of whip, +The world with noble horsemanship, +To twist and twine, both horse and man, +On such a well-concerted plan, +That, Centaur-like, when all was done, +We scarce could think they were not one? +Could she not to our itching ears +Bring the new names of new-coin'd peers, 940 +Who walk'd, nobility forgot, +With shoulders fitter for a knot +Than robes of honour; for whose sake +Heralds in form were forced to make, +To make, because they could not find, +Great predecessors to their mind? +Could she not (though 'tis doubtful since +Whether he plumber is, or prince) +Tell of a simple knight's advance +To be a doughty peer of France? 950 +Tell how he did a dukedom gain, +And Robinson was Aquitain? +Tell how her city chiefs, disgraced, +Were at an empty table placed,-- +A gross neglect, which, whilst they live, +They can't forget, and won't forgive; +A gross neglect of all those rights +Which march with city appetites, +Of all those canons, which we find +By Gluttony, time out of mind, 960 +Established, which they ever hold +Dearer than any thing but gold? + Thanks to my stars--I now see shore-- +Of courtiers, and of courts no more-- +Thus stumbling on my city friends, +Blind Chance my guide, my purpose bends +In line direct, and shall pursue +The point which I had first in view, +Nor more shall with the reader sport +Till I have seen him safe in port. 970 +Hush'd be each fear--no more I bear +Through the wide regions of the air +The reader terrified, no more +Wild ocean's horrid paths explore. +Be the plain track from henceforth mine-- +Cross roads to Allen I resign; +Allen, the honor of this nation; +Allen, himself a corporation; +Allen, of late notorious grown +For writings, none, or all, his own; 980 +Allen, the first of letter'd men, +Since the good Bishop[262] holds his pen, +And at his elbow takes his stand, +To mend his head, and guide his hand. +But hold--once more, Digression hence-- +Let us return to Common Sense; +The car of Phoebus I discharge, +My carriage now a Lord Mayor's barge. + Suppose we now--we may suppose +In verse, what would be sin in prose-- 990 +The sky with darkness overspread, +And every star retired to bed; +The gewgaw robes of Pomp and Pride +In some dark corner thrown aside; +Great lords and ladies giving way +To what they seem to scorn by day, +The real feelings of the heart, +And Nature taking place of Art; +Desire triumphant through the night, +And Beauty panting with delight; 1000 +Chastity, woman's fairest crown, +Till the return of morn laid down. +Then to be worn again as bright +As if not sullied in the night; +Dull Ceremony, business o'er, +Dreaming in form at Cottrell's[263] door; +Precaution trudging all about +To see the candles safely out, +Bearing a mighty master-key, +Habited like Economy, 1010 +Stamping each lock with triple seals; +Mean Avarice creeping at her heels. + Suppose we too, like sheep in pen, +The Mayor and Court of Aldermen +Within their barge, which through the deep, +The rowers more than half asleep, +Moved slow, as overcharged with state; +Thames groan'd beneath the mighty weight, +And felt that bauble heavier far +Than a whole fleet of men of war. 1020 +Sleep o'er each well-known faithful head +With liberal hand his poppies shed; +Each head, by Dulness render'd fit +Sleep and his empire to admit. +Through the whole passage not a word, +Not one faint, weak half-sound was heard; +Sleep had prevail'd to overwhelm +The steersman nodding o'er the helm; +The rowers, without force or skill, +Left the dull barge to drive at will; 1030 +The sluggish oars suspended hung, +And even Beardmore held his tongue. +Commerce, regardful of a freight +On which depended half her state, +Stepp'd to the helm; with ready hand +She safely clear'd that bank of sand, +Where, stranded, our west-country fleet +Delay and danger often meet, +Till Neptune, anxious for the trade, +Comes in full tides, and brings them aid. 1040 +Next (for the Muses can survey +Objects by night as well as day; +Nothing prevents their taking aim, +Darkness and light to them the same) +They pass'd that building[264] which of old +Queen-mothers was design'd to hold; +At present a mere lodging-pen, +A palace turn'd into a den; +To barracks turn'd, and soldiers tread +Where dowagers have laid their head. 1050 +Why should we mention Surrey Street, +Where every week grave judges meet +All fitted out with hum and ha, +In proper form to drawl out law, +To see all causes duly tried +'Twixt knaves who drive, and fools who ride? +Why at the Temple should we stay? +What of the Temple dare we say? +A dangerous ground we tread on there, +And words perhaps may actions bear; 1060 +Where, as the brethren of the seas +For fares, the lawyers ply for fees. +What of that Bridge,[265] most wisely made +To serve the purposes of trade, +In the great mart of all this nation, +By stopping up the navigation, +And to that sand bank adding weight, +Which is already much too great? +What of that Bridge, which, void of sense +But well supplied with impudence, 1070 +Englishmen, knowing not the Guild, +Thought they might have a claim to build, +Till Paterson, as white as milk, +As smooth as oil, as soft as silk, +In solemn manner had decreed +That on the other side the Tweed +Art, born and bred, and fully grown, +Was with one Mylne, a man unknown, +But grace, preferment, and renown +Deserving, just arrived in town: 1080 +One Mylne, an artist perfect quite +Both in his own and country's right, +As fit to make a bridge as he, +With glorious Patavinity,[266] +To build inscriptions worthy found +To lie for ever under ground. + Much more worth observation too, +Was this a season to pursue +The theme, our Muse might tell in rhyme: +The will she hath, but not the time; 1090 +For, swift as shaft from Indian bow, +(And when a goddess comes, we know, +Surpassing Nature acts prevail. +And boats want neither oar nor sail) +The vessel pass'd, and reach'd the shore +So quick, that Thought was scarce before. + Suppose we now our City court +Safely delivered at the port. +And, of their state regardless quite, +Landed, like smuggled goods, by night, 1100 +The solemn magistrate laid down, +The dignity of robe and gown, +With every other ensign gone, +Suppose the woollen nightcap on; +The flesh-brush used, with decent state, +To make the spirits circulate, +(A form which, to the senses true, +The lickerish chaplain uses too, +Though, something to improve the plan, +He takes the maid instead of man) 1110 +Swathed, and with flannel cover'd o'er, +To show the vigour of threescore, +The vigour of threescore and ten, +Above the proof of younger men, +Suppose, the mighty Dulman led +Betwixt two slaves, and put to bed; +Suppose, the moment he lies down, +No miracle in this great town, +The drone as fast asleep as he +Must in the course of nature be, 1120 +Who, truth for our foundation take, +When up, is never half awake. + There let him sleep, whilst we survey +The preparations for the day; +That day on which was to be shown +Court pride by City pride outdone. + The jealous mother sends away, +As only fit for childish play, +That daughter who, to gall her pride, +Shoots up too forward by her side. 1130 + The wretch, of God and man accursed, +Of all Hell's instruments the worst, +Draws forth his pawns, and for the day +Struts in some spendthrift's vain array; +Around his awkward doxy shine +The treasures of Golconda's mine; +Each neighbour, with a jealous glare, +Beholds her folly publish'd there. + Garments well saved, (an anecdote +Which we can prove, or would not quote) 1140 +Garments well saved, which first were made +When tailors, to promote their trade, +Against the Picts in arms arose, +And drove them out, or made them clothes; +Garments immortal, without end, +Like names and titles, which descend +Successively from sire to son; +Garments, unless some work is done +Of note, not suffer'd to appear +'Bove once at most in every year, 1150 +Were now, in solemn form, laid bare, +To take the benefit of air, +And, ere they came to be employ'd +On this solemnity, to void +That scent which Russia's leather gave, +From vile and impious moth to save. + Each head was busy, and each heart +In preparation bore a part; +Running together all about +The servants put each other out, 1160 +Till the grave master had decreed, +The more haste ever the worse speed. +Miss, with her little eyes half-closed, +Over a smuggled toilette dosed; +The waiting-maid, whom story notes +A very Scrub in petticoats, +Hired for one work, but doing all, +In slumbers lean'd against the wall. +Milliners, summon'd from afar, +Arrived in shoals at Temple Bar, 1170 +Strictly commanded to import +Cart loads of foppery from Court; +With labour'd visible design, +Art strove to be superbly fine; +Nature, more pleasing, though more wild, +Taught otherwise her darling child, +And cried, with spirited disdain, +Be Hunter elegant and plain! + Lo! from the chambers of the East, +A welcome prelude to the feast, 1180 +In saffron-colour'd robe array'd, +High in a car, by Vulcan made, +Who work'd for Jove himself, each steed, +High-mettled, of celestial breed, +Pawing and pacing all the way, +Aurora brought the wish'd-for day, +And held her empire, till out-run +By that brave jolly groom, the Sun. + The trumpet--hark! it speaks--it swells +The loud full harmony; it tells 1190 +The time at hand when Dulman, led +By Form, his citizens must head, +And march those troops, which at his call +Were now assembled, to Guildhall, +On matters of importance great, +To court and city, church and state. + From end to end the sound makes way, +All hear the signal and obey; +But Dulman, who, his charge forgot, +By Morpheus fetter'd, heard it not; 1200 +Nor could, so sound he slept and fast, +Hear any trumpet, but the last. + Crape, ever true and trusty known, +Stole from the maid's bed to his own, +Then in the spirituals of pride, +Planted himself at Dulman's side. +Thrice did the ever-faithful slave, +With voice which might have reach'd the grave, +And broke Death's adamantine chain, +On Dulman call, but call'd in vain. 1210 +Thrice with an arm, which might have made +The Theban boxer curse his trade, +The drone he shook, who rear'd the head, +And thrice fell backward on his bed. +What could be done? Where force hath fail'd, +Policy often hath prevail'd; +And what--an inference most plain-- +Had been, Crape thought might be again. + Under his pillow (still in mind +The proverb kept, 'fast bind, fast find') 1220 +Each blessed night the keys were laid, +Which Crape to draw away assay'd. +What not the power of voice or arm +Could do, this did, and broke the charm; +Quick started he with stupid stare, +For all his little soul was there. +Behold him, taken up, rubb'd down, +In elbow-chair, and morning-gown; + Behold him, in his latter bloom, +Stripp'd, wash'd, and sprinkled with perfume; 1230 +Behold him bending with the weight +Of robes, and trumpery of state; +Behold him (for the maxim's true, +Whate'er we by another do, +We do ourselves; and chaplain paid, +Like slaves in every other trade, +Had mutter'd over God knows what, +Something which he by heart had got) +Having, as usual, said his prayers, +Go titter, totter to the stairs: 1240 +Behold him for descent prepare, +With one foot trembling in the air; +He starts, he pauses on the brink, +And, hard to credit, seems to think; +Through his whole train (the chaplain gave +The proper cue to every slave) +At once, as with infection caught, +Each started, paused, and aim'd at thought; +He turns, and they turn; big with care, +He waddles to his elbow-chair, 1250 +Squats down, and, silent for a season, +At last with Crape begins to reason: +But first of all he made a sign, +That every soul, but the divine, +Should quit the room; in him, he knows, +He may all confidence repose. + 'Crape--though I'm yet not quite awake-- +Before this awful step I take, +On which my future all depends, +I ought to know my foes and friends. 1260 +My foes and friends--observe me still-- +I mean not those who well or ill +Perhaps may wish me, but those who +Have't in their power to do it too. +Now if, attentive to the state, +In too much hurry to be great, +Or through much zeal,--a motive, Crape, +Deserving praise,--into a scrape +I, like a fool, am got, no doubt +I, like a wise man, should get out: 1270 +Note that remark without replies; +I say that to get out is wise, +Or, by the very self-same rule, +That to get in was like a fool. +The marrow of this argument +Must wholly rest on the event, +And therefore, which is really hard, +Against events too I must guard. +Should things continue as they stand, +And Bute prevail through all the land 1280 +Without a rival, by his aid +My fortunes in a trice are made; +Nay, honours on my zeal may smile, +And stamp me Earl of some great Isle:[267] +But if, a matter of much doubt, +The present minister goes out, +Fain would I know on what pretext +I can stand fairly with the next? +For as my aim, at every hour, +Is to be well with those in power, 1290 +And my material point of view, +Whoever's in, to be in too, +I should not, like a blockhead, choose +To gain these, so as those to lose: +'Tis good in every case, you know, +To have two strings unto our bow.' + As one in wonder lost, Crape view'd +His lord, who thus his speech pursued: + 'This, my good Crape, is my grand point; +And as the times are out of joint, 1300 +The greater caution is required +To bring about the point desired. +What I would wish to bring about +Cannot admit a moment's doubt; +The matter in dispute, you know, +Is what we call the _Quomodo_. +That be thy task.'--The reverend slave, +Becoming in a moment grave, +Fix'd to the ground and rooted stood, +Just like a man cut out out of wood, 1310 +Such as we see (without the least +Reflection glancing on the priest) +One or more, planted up and down, +Almost in every church in town; +He stood some minutes, then, like one +Who wish'd the matter might be done, +But could not do it, shook his head, +And thus the man of sorrow said: + 'Hard is this task, too hard I swear, +By much too hard for me to bear; 1320 +Beyond expression hard my part, +Could mighty Dulman see my heart, +When he, alas! makes known a will +Which Crape's not able to fulfil. +Was ever my obedience barr'd +By any trifling nice regard +To sense and honour? Could I reach +Thy meaning without help of speech, +At the first motion of thy eye +Did not thy faithful creature fly? 1330 +Have I not said, not what I ought, +But what my earthly master taught? +Did I e'er weigh, through duty strong, +In thy great biddings, right and wrong? +Did ever Interest, to whom thou +Canst not with more devotion bow, +Warp my sound faith, or will of mine +In contradiction run to thine? +Have I not, at thy table placed, +When business call'd aloud for haste, 1340 +Torn myself thence, yet never heard +To utter one complaining word, +And had, till thy great work was done, +All appetites, as having none? +Hard is it, this great plan pursued +Of voluntary servitude; +Pursued without or shame, or fear, +Through the great circle of the year, +Now to receive, in this grand hour, +Commands which lie beyond my power, 1350 +Commands which baffle all my skill, +And leave me nothing but my will: +Be that accepted; let my lord +Indulgence to his slave afford: +This task, for my poor strength unfit, +Will yield to none but Dulman's wit.' + With such gross incense gratified, +And turning up the lip of pride, +'Poor Crape'--and shook his empty head-- +'Poor puzzled Crape!' wise Dulman said, 1360 +'Of judgment weak, of sense confined, +For things of lower note design'd; +For things within the vulgar reach, +To run of errands, and to preach; +Well hast thou judged, that heads like mine +Cannot want help from heads like thine; +Well hast thou judged thyself unmeet +Of such high argument to treat; +Twas but to try thee that I spoke, +And all I said was but a joke. 1370 + Nor think a joke, Crape, a disgrace, +Or to my person, or my place; +The wisest of the sons of men +Have deign'd to use them now and then. +The only caution, do you see, +Demanded by our dignity, +From common use and men exempt, +Is that they may not breed contempt. +Great use they have, when in the hands +Of one like me, who understands, 1380 +Who understands the time and place, +The person, manner, and the grace, +Which fools neglect; so that we find, +If all the requisites are join'd, +From whence a perfect joke must spring, +A joke's a very serious thing. + But to our business--my design, +Which gave so rough a shock to thine, +To my capacity is made +As ready as a fraud in trade; 1390 +Which, like broad-cloth, I can, with ease, +Cut out in any shape I please. + Some, in my circumstance, some few, +Aye, and those men of genius too, +Good men, who, without love or hate, +Whether they early rise or late, +With names uncrack'd, and credit sound, +Rise worth a hundred thousand pound, +By threadbare ways and means would try +To bear their point--so will not I. 1400 +New methods shall my wisdom find +To suit these matters to my mind; +So that the infidels at court, +Who make our city wits their sport, +Shall hail the honours of my reign, +And own that Dulman bears a brain. + Some, in my place, to gain their ends, +Would give relations up, and friends; +Would lend a wife, who, they might swear +Safely, was none the worse for wear; 1410 +Would see a daughter, yet a maid, +Into a statesman's arms betray'd; +Nay, should the girl prove coy, nor know +What daughters to a father owe, +Sooner than schemes so nobly plann'd +Should fail, themselves would lend a hand; +Would vote on one side, whilst a brother, +Properly taught, would vote on t'other; +Would every petty band forget; +To public eye be with one set, 1420 +In private with a second herd, +And be by proxy with a third; +Would, (like a queen,[268] of whom I read, +The other day--her name is fled-- +In a book,--where, together bound, +'Whittington and his Cat' I found-- +A tale most true, and free from art, +Which all Lord Mayors should have by heart; +A queen oh!--might those days begin +Afresh, when queens would learn to spin-- 1430 +Who wrought, and wrought, but for some plot, +The cause of which I've now forgot, +During the absence of the sun +Undid what she by day had done) +Whilst they a double visage wear, +What's sworn by day, by night unswear. + Such be their arts, and such, perchance, +May happily their ends advance; +Prom a new system mine shall spring, +A _locum tenens_ is the thing. 1440 +That's your true plan. To obligate +The present ministers of state, +My shadow shall our court approach, +And bear my power, and have my coach; +My fine state-coach, superb to view, +A fine state-coach, and paid for too. +To curry favour, and the grace +Obtain of those who're out of place; +In the mean time I--that's to say, +I proper, I myself--here stay. 1450 + But hold--perhaps unto the nation, +Who hate the Scot's administration, +To lend my coach may seem to be +Declaring for the ministry, +For where the city-coach is, there +Is the true essence of the Mayor: +Therefore (for wise men are intent +Evils at distance to prevent, +Whilst fools the evils first endure, +And then are plagued to seek a cure) 1460 +No coach--a horse--and free from fear, +To make our Deputy appear, +Fast on his back shall he be tied, +With two grooms marching by his side; +Then for a horse--through all the land, +To head our solemn city-band, +Can any one so fit be found +As he who in Artillery-ground, +Without a rider, (noble sight!) +Led on our bravest troops to fight? 1470 + But first, Crape, for my honour's sake-- +A tender point--inquiry make +About that horse, if the dispute +Is ended, or is still in suit: +For whilst a cause, (observe this plan +Of justice) whether horse or man +The parties be, remains in doubt, +Till 'tis determined out and out, +That power must tyranny appear +Which should, prejudging, interfere, 1480 +And weak, faint judges overawe, +To bias the free course of law. + You have my will--now quickly run, +And take care that my will be done. +In public, Crape, you must appear, +Whilst I in privacy sit here; +Here shall great Dulman sit alone, +Making this elbow-chair my throne, +And you, performing what I bid, +Do all, as if I nothing did.' 1490 + Crape heard, and speeded on his way; +With him to hear was to obey; +Not without trouble, be assured, +A proper proxy was procured +To serve such infamous intent, +And such a lord to represent; +Nor could one have been found at all +On t'other side of London Wall. + The trumpet sounds--solemn and slow +Behold the grand procession go, 1500 +All moving on, cat after kind, +As if for motion ne'er design'd. + Constables, whom the laws admit +To keep the peace by breaking it; +Beadles, who hold the second place +By virtue of a silver mace, +Which every Saturday is drawn, +For use of Sunday, out of pawn; +Treasurers, who with empty key +Secure an empty treasury; 1510 +Churchwardens, who their course pursue +In the same state, as to their pew +Churchwardens of St Margaret's go, +Since Peirson taught them pride and show, +Who in short transient pomp appear, +Like almanacs changed every year; +Behind whom, with unbroken locks, +Charity carries the poor's box, +Not knowing that with private keys +They ope and shut it when they please: 1520 +Overseers, who by frauds ensure +The heavy curses of the poor; +Unclean came flocking, bulls and bears, +Like beasts into the ark, by pairs. + Portentous, flaming in the van, +Stalk'd the professor, Sheridan, +A man of wire, a mere pantine, +A downright animal machine; +He knows alone, in proper mode, +How to take vengeance on an ode, 1530 +And how to butcher Ammon's son +And poor Jack Dryden both in one: +On all occasions next the chair +He stands, for service of the Mayor, +And to instruct him how to use +His A's and B's, and P's and Q's: +O'er letters, into tatters worn, +O'er syllables, defaced and torn, +O'er words disjointed, and o'er sense, +Left destitute of all defence, 1540 +He strides, and all the way he goes +Wades, deep in blood, o'er Criss-cross-rows: +Before him every consonant +In agonies is seen to pant; +Behind, in forms not to be known, +The ghosts of tortured vowels groan. + Next Hart and Duke, well worthy grace +And city favour, came in place; +No children can their toils engage, +Their toils are turn'd to reverend age; 1550 +When a court dame, to grace his brows +Resolved, is wed to city-spouse, +Their aid with madam's aid must join, +The awkward dotard to refine, +And teach, whence truest glory flows, +Grave sixty to turn out his toes. +Each bore in hand a kit; and each +To show how fit he was to teach +A cit, an alderman, a mayor, +Led in a string a dancing bear. 1560 + Since the revival of Fingal, +Custom, and custom's all in all, +Commands that we should have regard, +On all high seasons, to the bard. +Great acts like these, by vulgar tongue +Profaned, should not be said, but sung. +This place to fill, renown'd in fame, +The high and mighty Lockman[269] came, +And, ne'er forgot in Dulman's reign, +With proper order to maintain 1570 +The uniformity of pride, +Brought Brother Whitehead by his side. + On horse, who proudly paw'd the ground, +And cast his fiery eyeballs round, +Snorting, and champing the rude bit, +As if, for warlike purpose fit, +His high and generous blood disdain'd, +To be for sports and pastimes rein'd, +Great Dymock, in his glorious station, +Paraded at the coronation. 1580 +Not so our city Dymock came, +Heavy, dispirited, and tame; +No mark of sense, his eyes half-closed, +He on a mighty dray-horse dozed: +Fate never could a horse provide +So fit for such a man to ride, +Nor find a man with strictest care, +So fit for such a horse to bear. +Hung round with instruments of death, +The sight of him would stop the breath 1590 +Of braggart Cowardice, and make +The very court Drawcansir[270] quake; +With dirks, which, in the hands of Spite, +Do their damn'd business in the night, +From Scotland sent, but here display'd +Only to fill up the parade; +With swords, unflesh'd, of maiden hue, +Which rage or valour never drew; +With blunderbusses, taught to ride +Like pocket-pistols, by his side, 1600 +In girdle stuck, he seem'd to be +A little moving armoury. +One thing much wanting to complete +The sight, and make a perfect treat, +Was, that the horse, (a courtesy +In horses found of high degree) +Instead of going forward on, +All the way backward should have gone. +Horses, unless they breeding lack, +Some scruple make to turn their back, 1610 +Though riders, which plain truth declares, +No scruple make of turning theirs. + Far, far apart from all the rest, +Fit only for a standing jest, +The independent, (can you get +A better suited epithet?) +The independent Amyand came,[271] +All burning with the sacred flame +Of Liberty, which well he knows +On the great stock of Slavery grows; 1620 +Like sparrow, who, deprived of mate, +Snatch'd by the cruel hand of Fate, +From spray to spray no more will hop, +But sits alone on the house-top; +Or like himself, when all alone +At Croydon he was heard to groan, +Lifting both hands in the defence +Of interest, and common sense; +Both hands, for as no other man +Adopted and pursued his plan, 1630 +The left hand had been lonesome quite, +If he had not held up the right; +Apart he came, and fix'd his eyes +With rapture on a distant prize, +On which, in letters worthy note, +There 'twenty thousand pounds' was wrote. +False trap, for credit sapp'd is found +By getting twenty thousand pound: +Nay, look not thus on me, and stare, +Doubting the certainty--to swear 1640 +In such a case I should be loth-- +But Perry Cust[272] may take his oath. + In plain and decent garb array'd, +With the prim Quaker, Fraud, came Trade; +Connivance, to improve the plan, +Habited like a juryman, +Judging as interest prevails, +Came next, with measures, weights, and scales; +Extortion next, of hellish race +A cub most damn'd, to show his face 1650 +Forbid by fear, but not by shame, +Turn'd to a Jew, like Gideon[273] came; +Corruption, Midas-like, behold +Turning whate'er she touch'd to gold; +Impotence, led by Lust, and Pride, +Strutting with Ponton[274] by her side; +Hypocrisy, demure and sad, +In garments of the priesthood clad, +So well disguised, that you might swear, +Deceived, a very priest was there; 1660 +Bankruptcy, full of ease and health, +And wallowing in well-saved wealth, +Came sneering through a ruin'd band, +And bringing B---- in her hand; +Victory, hanging down her head, +Was by a Highland stallion led; +Peace, clothed in sables, with a face +Which witness'd sense of huge disgrace, +Which spake a deep and rooted shame +Both of herself and of her name, 1670 +Mourning creeps on, and, blushing, feels +War, grim War, treading on her heels; +Pale Credit, shaken by the arts +Of men with bad heads and worse hearts, +Taking no notice of a band +Which near her were ordain'd to stand, +Well-nigh destroyed by sickly fit, +Look'd wistful all around for Pitt; +Freedom--at that most hallow'd name +My spirits mount into a flame, 1680 +Each pulse beats high, and each nerve strains, +Even to the cracking; through my veins +The tides of life more rapid run, +And tell me I am Freedom's son-- +Freedom came next, but scarce was seen, +When the sky, which appear'd serene +And gay before, was overcast; +Horror bestrode a foreign blast, +And from the prison of the North, +To Freedom deadly, storms burst forth. 1690 + A car like those, in which, we're told, +Our wild forefathers warr'd of old, +Loaded with death, six horses bear +Through the blank region of the air. +Too fierce for time or art to tame, +They pour'd forth mingled smoke and flame +From their wide nostrils; every steed +Was of that ancient savage breed +Which fell Geryon nursed; their food +The flesh of man, their drink his blood. 1700 + On the first horses, ill-match'd pair, +This fat and sleek, that lean and bare, +Came ill-match'd riders side by side, +And Poverty was yoked with Pride; +Union most strange it must appear, +Till other unions make it clear. + Next, in the gall of bitterness, +With rage which words can ill express, +With unforgiving rage, which springs +From a false zeal for holy things, 1710 +Wearing such robes as prophets wear, +False prophets placed in Peter's chair, +On which, in characters of fire, +Shapes antic, horrible, and dire +Inwoven flamed, where, to the view, +In groups appear'd a rabble crew +Of sainted devils; where, all round, +Vile relics of vile men were found, +Who, worse than devils, from the birth +Perform'd the work of hell on earth, 1720 +Jugglers, Inquisitors, and Popes, +Pointing at axes, wheels, and ropes, +And engines, framed on horrid plan, +Which none but the destroyer, Man, +Could, to promote his selfish views, +Have head to make or heart to use, +Bearing, to consecrate her tricks, +In her left hand a crucifix, +'Remembrance of our dying Lord,' +And in her right a two-edged sword, 1730 +Having her brows, in impious sport, +Adorn'd with words of high import, +'On earth peace, amongst men good will, +Love bearing and forbearing still,' +All wrote in the hearts' blood of those +Who rather death than falsehood chose: +On her breast, (where, in days of yore, +When God loved Jews, the High Priest wore +Those oracles which were decreed +To instruct and guide the chosen seed) 1740 +Having with glory clad and strength, +The Virgin pictured at full length, +Whilst at her feet, in small pourtray'd, +As scarce worth notice, Christ was laid,-- +Came Superstition, fierce and fell, +An imp detested, e'en in hell; +Her eye inflamed, her face all o'er +Foully besmear'd with human gore, +O'er heaps of mangled saints she rode; +Fast at her heels Death proudly strode, 1750 +And grimly smiled, well pleased to see +Such havoc of mortality; +Close by her side, on mischief bent, +And urging on each bad intent +To its full bearing, savage, wild, +The mother fit of such a child, +Striving the empire to advance +Of Sin and Death, came Ignorance. + With looks, where dread command was placed, +And sovereign power by pride disgraced, 1760 +Where, loudly witnessing a mind +Of savage, more than human kind, +Not choosing to be loved, but fear'd, +Mocking at right, Misrule appear'd. + With eyeballs glaring fiery red, +Enough to strike beholders dead, +Gnashing his teeth, and in a flood +Pouring corruption forth and blood +From his chafed jaws; without remorse +Whipping and spurring on his horse, 1770 +Whose sides, in their own blood embay'd, +E'en to the bone were open laid, +Came Tyranny, disdaining awe, +And trampling over Sense and Law; +One thing, and only one, he knew, +One object only would pursue; +Though less (so low doth passion bring) +Than man, he would be more than king. + With every argument and art +Which might corrupt the head and heart, 1780 +Soothing the frenzy of his mind, +Companion meet, was Flattery join'd; +Winning his carriage, every look +Employed, whilst it conceal'd a hook; +When simple most, most to be fear'd; +Most crafty, when no craft appear'd; +His tales, no man like him could tell; +His words, which melted as they fell, +Might even a hypocrite deceive, +And make an infidel believe, 1790 +Wantonly cheating o'er and o'er +Those who had cheated been before:-- +Such Flattery came, in evil hour, +Poisoning the royal ear of Power, +And, grown by prostitution great, +Would be first minister of state. + Within the chariot, all alone, +High seated on a kind of throne, +With pebbles graced, a figure came, +Whom Justice would, but dare not name. 1800 +Hard times when Justice, without fear, +Dare not bring forth to public ear +The names of those who dare offend +'Gainst Justice, and pervert her end! +But, if the Muse afford me grace, +Description shall supply the place. + In foreign garments he was clad; +Sage ermine o'er the glossy plaid +Cast reverend honour; on his heart, +Wrought by the curious hand of Art, 1810 +In silver wrought, and brighter far +Than heavenly or than earthly star, +Shone a White Rose, the emblem dear +Of him he ever must revere; +Of that dread lord, who, with his host +Of faithful native rebels lost, +Like those black spirits doom'd to hell, +At once from power and virtue fell: +Around his clouded brows was placed +A bonnet, most superbly graced 1820 +With mighty thistles, nor forgot +The sacred motto--'Touch me not.' + In the right hand a sword he bore +Harder than adamant, and more +Fatal than winds, which from the mouth +Of the rough North invade the South; +The reeking blade to view presents +The blood of helpless innocents, +And on the hilt, as meek become +As lamb before the shearers dumb, 1830 +With downcast eye, and solemn show +Of deep, unutterable woe, +Mourning the time when Freedom reign'd, +Fast to a rock was Justice chain'd. + In his left hand, in wax impress'd, +With bells and gewgaws idly dress'd, +An image, cast in baby mould, +He held, and seem'd o'erjoy'd to hold +On this he fix'd his eyes; to this, +Bowing, he gave the loyal kiss, 1840 +And, for rebellion fully ripe, +Seem'd to desire the antitype. +What if to that Pretender's foes +His greatness, nay, his life, he owes; +Shall common obligations bind, +And shake his constancy of mind? +Scorning such weak and petty chains, +Faithful to James[275] he still remains, +Though he the friend of George appear: +Dissimulation's virtue here. 1850 + Jealous and mean, he with a frown +Would awe, and keep all merit down, +Nor would to Truth and Justice bend, +Unless out-bullied by his friend: +Brave with the coward, with the brave +He is himself a coward slave: +Awed by his fears, he has no heart +To take a great and open part: +Mines in a subtle train he springs, +And, secret, saps the ears of kings; 1860 +But not e'en there continues firm +'Gainst the resistance of a worm: +Born in a country, where the will +Of one is law to all, he still +Retain'd the infection, with full aim +To spread it wheresoe'er he came; +Freedom he hated, Law defied, +The prostitute of Power and Pride; +Law he with ease explains away, +And leads bewilder'd Sense astray; 1870 +Much to the credit of his brain, +Puzzles the cause he can't maintain; +Proceeds on most familiar grounds, +And where he can't convince, confounds; +Talents of rarest stamp and size, +To Nature false, he misapplies, +And turns to poison what was sent +For purposes of nourishment. +Paleness, not such as on his wings +The messenger of Sickness brings, 1880 +But such as takes its coward rise +From conscious baseness, conscious vice, +O'erspread his cheeks; Disdain and Pride, +To upstart fortunes ever tied, +Scowl'd on his brow; within his eye, +Insidious, lurking like a spy, +To Caution principled by Fear, +Not daring open to appear, +Lodged covert Mischief; Passion hung +On his lip quivering; on his tongue 1890 +Fraud dwelt at large; within his breast +All that makes villain found a nest; +All that, on Hell's completest plan, +E'er join'd to damn the heart of man. + Soon as the car reach'd land, he rose, +And, with a look which might have froze +The heart's best blood, which was enough +Had hearts been made of sterner stuff +In cities than elsewhere, to make +The very stoutest quail and quake, 1900 +He cast his baleful eyes around: +Fix'd without motion to the ground, +Fear waiting on Surprise, all stood, +And horror chill'd their curdled blood; +No more they thought of pomp, no more +(For they had seen his face before) +Of law they thought; the cause forgot, +Whether it was or ghost, or plot, +Which drew them there: they all stood more +Like statues than they were before. 1910 + What could be done? Could Art, could Force. +Or both, direct a proper course +To make this savage monster tame, +Or send him back the way he came? + What neither art, nor force, nor both, +Could do, a Lord of foreign growth, +A Lord to that base wretch allied +In country, not in vice and pride, +Effected; from the self-same land, +(Bad news for our blaspheming band 1920 +Of scribblers, but deserving note) +The poison came and antidote. +Abash'd, the monster hung his head, +And like an empty vision fled; +His train, like virgin snows, which run, +Kiss'd by the burning bawdy sun, +To love-sick streams, dissolved in air; +Joy, who from absence seem'd more fair, +Came smiling, freed from slavish Awe; +Loyalty, Liberty, and Law, 1930 +Impatient of the galling chain, +And yoke of Power, resumed their reign; +And, burning with the glorious flame +Of public virtue, Mansfield came. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [189] 'The Ghost:' the famous Cock-lane Ghost, a conspiracy of certain + parties in London against one Kent, whose paramour had died, and + whose ghost was said to have returned to accuse him of having + murdered her. A little girl named Frazer, who appears to have had + ventriloquial powers, was the principal cause of the noises, + scratchings, &c., thought to be supernatural. + + [190] 'Bampfield Carew:' Bampfylde Moore Carew, the famous king of the + gypsies. His life used to be a favourite with schoolboys. + + [191] 'Moll Squires:' Mary Squires, a gypsy, and one of Carew's + subjects. + + [192] 'College:' that of the fifteen Augurs in Rome. + + [193] 'Campbell:' a deaf and dumb fortune-teller. + + [194] 'Butcher-row:' an old street in London, now removed. + + [195] 'Drugger:' Abel Drugger, in Jonson's 'Alchymist. + + [196] 'Stuarts:' James the Second's dastardly conduct at the battle of + the Boyne. + + [197] 'Sackvilles:' Lord George Sackville, accused of cowardice at + the battle of Minden, afterwards degraded by a court martial, but + ultimately raised to promotion as a Peer and Secretary of State. + + [198] 'Faden and Say:' two anti-Wilkite editors. + + [199] 'Baker:' Sir Richard Baker, the famous chronicler. + + [200] 'Tofts:' Mary Tofts of Godalming, who first dreamed of, and was + at last brought to bed of, rabbits! She confessed afterwards that it + was a fraud. + + [201] 'Betty Canning:' a woman who pretended, in 1753, that she had + been confined in a garret by a gypsy woman, for twenty-seven days, + with scarcely any food, but turned out to be an impostor. + + [202] 'Fisher's:' Catherine Fisher, better known by the name of Kitty + Fisher, a courtezan of great beauty. + + [203] 'Lennox:' Mrs Arabella Lennox, the author of some pleasing + novels, and a friend of Dr Johnson's. See Boswell and Hawkins. + + [204] 'Lauder's;' William Lauder, the notorious forger and interpolator + of Milton, detected by Dr Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury. + + [205] 'Polypheme:' Johnson, who at first took Lauder's side. See + Boswell. + + [206] 'Fanny:' the supposed ghost. + + [207] 'Pride's command:' The Countess-Duchess of Northumberland was + celebrated for the splendour of her parties. + + [208] 'Nine knocks:' a curious anticipation of modern spirit-rappings! + + [209] 'Immane Pomposo:' Dr Johnson; 'humane,' referring to Virgil's + _'Monstrum horrendum immane_;' and ridiculing Dr J.'s Latinisms. + + [210] 'C----'s:' not known. + + [211] 'Garden:' Covent, where a set of low and mercenary wretches, + called _trading justices_, superintended the administration of + police. + + [212] 'Avaro:' Pearce, Bishop of Rochester, a favourite object of + Churchill's ire, as some of the previous poems prove. + + [213] 'Moore:' the Rev. Mr Moore, then curate of St Sepulchre's, who + had a share in the Cock-lane conspiracy. + + [214] 'Fanny's tomb:' it had been stated that her tomb had been + disturbed, and an expedition actually took place to ascertain the + truth. + + [215] 'Not he:' Paul Whitehead, the profligate satirist. + + [216] 'Laureate:' William Whitehead, the poet laureate. + + [217] 'Play': alluding to Whitehead's comedy of the 'School for + Lovers.' + + [219] 'Hunter:' Miss Hunter, one of Queen Charlotte's maids of honour, + eloped on the day of the coronation with the Earl of Pembroke. + + [220] 'Funeral Pomps:' alluding to certain improprieties at the + interment of George the Second, which took place the 11th of November + 1760. + + [221] 'Coronations:' the coronation of George the Third on the 22d of + September 1761. + + [222] 'Hart:' a dancing-master of the day. + + [223] 'A set:' an invidious reflection on the Society for the + Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, founded in the + year 1753. + + [224] 'Bourbon's:' the family compact between France and Spain. + + [225] 'Gazette:' the _Brussels Gazette_, a notorious paper of that + time. + + [226] 'Patriot's heart:' Mr Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham. + + [227] 'Granby:' the Marquis of Granby, distinguished in a conspicuous + manner during the seven years' war, under Prince Ferdinand of + Brunswick. See Junius. + + [228] 'Rhyme:' Mallet addressed a contemptible poem, entitled 'Truth in + Rhyme,' to the celebrated Lord Chesterfield. + + [229] 'Place:' the Royal Exchange. + + [230] 'N----:' not known. + + [231] 'Pewterers' Hall:' Macklin's recitations and his lectures on + elocution were delivered at Pewterers' Hall, in Lime Street. + + [232] 'Dulman:' Sir Samuel Fludyer, Bart. M.P. for Chippenham, + Deputy-Governor of the Bank of England, and Lord Mayor of London for + 1761-2. + + [233] 'Newfoundland:' in May 1762 a French squadron escaped out of + Brest in a fog, and took the town of St John's in Newfoundland. + + [234] 'Aim:' Beckford was the Lord Mayor elect for 1762-3. + + [235] 'Electorate:' the electorate of Hanover. + + [236] 'Plausible:' the Rev. W. Sellon in 1763 published a stolen sermon + as his own. + + [237] 'His hook:' Dr Johnson was in possession of subscriptions for his + edition of Shakspeare for upwards of twenty years ere it appeared. + + [238] 'Aldrich:' the Reverend Stephen Aldrich, Rector of St John's, + Clerkenwell, actively contributed to the exposure of the Cock-lane + ghost. + + [239] 'Melcombe:' George Bubb Doddington, the son of an apothecary at + Weymouth, by skilful electioneering, raised himself to the peerage + under the title of Lord Melcombe. Thomson addressed to him his + 'Summer,' and Young his 'Universal Passion.' + + [240] 'Dicky Glover:' Richard Glover, author of 'Leonidas.' + + [241] 'Will:' William Beckford, Esq., elected an alderman, June 1752, + and twice Lord Mayor of London, in 1762 and 1769. He was a West India + merchant, possessed a princely fortune, and became highly popular by + his strenuous opposition to the court: his son was the author of + 'Caliph Vathek.' + + [242] 'Stentor': unknown. + + [243] 'Newcastle:' the Duke of Newcastle, who died in 1768, had for + more than fifty years filled the greatest offices in the state. See + Macaulay's papers on Chatham, and Humphrey Clinker. + + [244] 'Processionade:' for the purpose of preparing an address to his + Majesty on the conclusion of the peace with France. + + [245] 'Ward:' Joshua Ward, a quack of the period. + + [246] 'Warwick Lane,' Newgate Street, was the seat of the College of + Physicians. + + [247] 'Wyndham:' Lord Egremont. + + [248] 'Reeves:' Dr Reeves was a physician of some practice in the + city. + + [249] 'Chauncy:' Dr Chauncy, descended of a good family, and + possessed of a competent estate, did not practise. + + [250] 'Garth:' Sir Samuel Garth, a celebrated poet and physician, + author of 'The Dispensary.' + + [251] 'Schomberg:' Dr Isaac Schomberg, a friend of Garrick, and an + eminent and learned physician. + + [252] 'Madan:' Martin Madan, a celebrated English preacher, many years + chaplain to the Lock Hospital. See Cowper's Letters. + + [253] 'Chevalier:' the Chevalier John Taylor, a quack oculist. + + [254] 'Annet:' Peter Annet, for blasphemy, was sentenced by the court + to suffer a year's imprisonment in Bridewell with hard labour, and to + stand twice in the pillory. + + [255] 'A guard:' Churchill was often in danger of being arrested for + debt. + + [256] 'Saint Bride:' an address of congratulation on the peace, from + the city of London, was accompanied on its way by a muffled peal from + St Bride's. + + [257] 'Of law:' referring to the punishment of negligent lamplighters. + + [258] 'Hall:' the Westminster Session-house was then held at a house in + King Street, which had probably been a low public house. + + [259] 'Brown:' the Rev. John Brown, D.D., born in 1715, was author, + among other works, of the 'Essay on the Characteristics,' and of an + 'Estimate of the Manners and Principles of the Times.' See Cowper's + 'Table-talk.' The 'Estimate' was extremely popular for a time. He was + inordinately vain, and died at last insane and a suicide. + + [260] 'For making law:' alluding to Lord Mansfield's construction of + the libel-law. + + [261] 'On that day:' alluding to Lord Talbot's horsemanship as + high-steward at the coronation. + + [262] 'Good Bishop:' Warburton was married on Allen's niece. + + [263] 'Cottrell:' Sir Clement Cottrell, master of the ceremonies. + + [264] 'Building:' the Savoy and Old Somerset House were formerly the + residences of the Queens of England. + + [265] 'Bridge.' referring to a clamour excited by interested persons of + all descriptions against the erection of a bridge over the Thames at + Blackfriars. It was carried by the exertions of Paterson, an + Anti-Wilkite, and built by Mylne, a Scotchman. + + [266] 'Patavinity:' the provincial dialect of Padua, in which Livy + wrote. + + [267] 'Isle:' alluding to the insignificant size of the Isle of Bute. + + [268] 'A queen:' Penelope, in the Odyssey. + + [269] 'John Lockman:' secretary to the British Herring Fishery Board. + + [270] 'Drawcansir:' Lord Talbot. + + [271] 'Amyand:' George and Claudius Amyand were eminent merchants. + + [272] 'Perry Cust:' a London merchant. + + [273] 'Gideon:' Sampson Gideon, a wealthy Jew broker. + + [274] 'Ponton:' Daniel Ponton, a gentleman of fortune, and a friend of + the administration, was a magistrate for the county of Surrey. + + [275] 'Faithful to James:' alluding to the Earl of Mansfield's original + predilection for the Pretender. + + + + +THE CANDIDATE. + + This poem was written in 1764, on occasion of the contest between the + Earls of Hardwicke and Sandwich for the High-stewardship of the + University of Cambridge, vacant by the death of the Lord Chancellor + Hardwicke. The spirit of party ran high in the University, and no + means were left untried by either candidate to obtain a majority. The + election was fixed for the 30th of March, when, after much + altercation, the votes appearing equal, a scrutiny was demanded; + whereupon the Vice-Chancellor adjourned the senate _sine die_. On + appeal to the Lord High-Chancellor, he determined in favour of the + Earl of Hardwicke, and a mandamus issued accordingly. + +Enough of Actors--let them play the player, +And, free from censure, fret, sweat, strut, and stare; +Garrick[276] abroad, what motives can engage +To waste one couplet on a barren stage? +Ungrateful Garrick! when these tasty days, +In justice to themselves, allow'd thee praise; +When, at thy bidding, Sense, for twenty years, +Indulged in laughter, or dissolved in tears; +When in return for labour, time, and health, +The town had given some little share of wealth, 10 +Couldst thou repine at being still a slave? +Darest thou presume to enjoy that wealth she gave? +Couldst thou repine at laws ordain'd by those +Whom nothing but thy merit made thy foes? +Whom, too refined for honesty and trade, +By need made tradesmen, Pride had bankrupts made; +Whom Fear made drunkards, and, by modern rules, +Whom Drink made wits, though Nature made them fools; +With such, beyond all pardon is thy crime, +In such a manner, and at such a time, 20 +To quit the stage; but men of real sense, +Who neither lightly give, nor take offence, +Shall own thee clear, or pass an act of grace, +Since thou hast left a Powell in thy place. + Enough of Authors--why, when scribblers fail, +Must other scribblers spread the hateful tale? +Why must they pity, why contempt express, +And why insult a brother in distress? +Let those, who boast the uncommon gift of brains +The laurel pluck, and wear it for their pains; 30 +Fresh on their brows for ages let it bloom, +And, ages past, still flourish round their tomb. +Let those who without genius write, and write, +Versemen or prosemen, all in Nature's spite, +The pen laid down, their course of folly run +In peace, unread, unmention'd, be undone. +Why should I tell, to cross the will of Fate, +That Francis once endeavour'd to translate? +Why, sweet oblivion winding round his head, +Should I recall poor Murphy from the dead? 40 +Why may not Langhorne,[277] simple in his lay, +Effusion on effusion pour away; +With friendship and with fancy trifle here, +Or sleep in pastoral at Belvidere? +Sleep let them all, with Dulness on her throne, +Secure from any malice but their own. + Enough of Critics--let them, if they please, +Fond of new pomp, each month pass new decrees; +Wide and extensive be their infant state, +Their subjects many, and those subjects great, 50 +Whilst all their mandates as sound law succeed, +With fools who write, and greater fools who read. +What though they lay the realms of Genius waste, +Fetter the fancy and debauch the taste; +Though they, like doctors, to approve their skill, +Consult not how to cure, but how to kill; +Though by whim, envy, or resentment led, +They damn those authors whom they never read; +Though, other rules unknown, one rule they hold, +To deal out so much praise for so much gold: 60 +Though Scot with Scot, in damned close intrigues, +Against the commonwealth of letters leagues; +Uncensured let them pilot at the helm, +And rule in letters, as they ruled the realm: +Ours be the curse, the mean tame coward's curse, +(Nor could ingenious Malice make a worse, +To do our sense and honour deep despite) +To credit what they say, read what they write. + Enough of Scotland--let her rest in peace; +The cause removed, effects of course should cease; 70 +Why should I tell, how Tweed, too mighty grown, +And proudly swell'd with waters not his own, +Burst o'er his banks, and, by Destruction led, +O'er our fair England desolation spread, +Whilst, riding on his waves, Ambition, plumed +In tenfold pride, the port of Bute assumed, +Now that the river god, convinced, though late, +And yielding, though reluctantly, to Fate, +Holds his fair course, and with more humble tides, +In tribute to the sea, as usual, glides? 80 + Enough of States, and such like trifling things; +Enough of kinglings, and enough of kings; +Henceforth, secure, let ambush'd statesmen lie, +Spread the court web, and catch the patriot fly; +Henceforth, unwhipt of Justice, uncontroll'd +By fear or shame, let Vice, secure and bold, +Lord it with all her sons, whilst Virtue's groan +Meets with compassion only from the throne. + Enough of Patriots--all I ask of man +Is only to be honest as he can: 90 +Some have deceived, and some may still deceive; +'Tis the fool's curse at random to believe. +Would those, who, by opinion placed on high, +Stand fair and perfect in their country's eye, +Maintain that honour, let me in their ear +Hint this essential doctrine--Persevere. +Should they (which Heaven forbid) to win the grace +Of some proud courtier, or to gain a place, +Their king and country sell, with endless shame +The avenging Muse shall mark each traitorous name; 100 +But if, to Honour true, they scorn to bend, +And, proudly honest, hold out to the end, +Their grateful country shall their fame record, +And I myself descend to praise a lord. + Enough of Wilkes--with good and honest men +His actions speak much stronger than my pen, +And future ages shall his name adore, +When he can act and I can write no more. +England may prove ungrateful and unjust, +But fostering France[278] shall ne'er betray her trust: 110 +'Tis a brave debt which gods on men impose, +To pay with praise the merit e'en of foes. +When the great warrior of Amilcar's race +Made Rome's wide empire tremble to her base, +To prove her virtue, though it gall'd her pride, +Rome gave that fame which Carthage had denied. + Enough of Self--that darling luscious theme, +O'er which philosophers in raptures dream; +Of which with seeming disregard they write, +Then prizing most, when most they seem to slight; 120 +Vain proof of folly tinctured strong with pride! +What man can from himself, himself divide? +For me,(nor dare I lie) my leading aim +(Conscience first satisfied) is love of fame; +Some little fame derived from some brave few, +Who, prizing Honour, prize her votaries too. +Let all (nor shall resentment flush my cheek) +Who know me well, what they know, freely speak, +So those (the greatest curse I meet below) +Who know me not, may not pretend to know. 130 +Let none of those whom, bless'd with parts above +My feeble genius, still I dare to love, +Doing more mischief than a thousand foes, +Posthumous nonsense to the world expose, +And call it mine; for mine though never known, +Or which, if mine, I living blush'd to own. +Know all the world, no greedy heir shall find, +Die when I will, one couplet left behind. +Let none of those, whom I despise, though great, +Pretending friendship to give malice weight, 140 +Publish my life; let no false sneaking peer,[279] +(Some such there are) to win the public ear, +Hand me to shame with some vile anecdote. +Nor soul-gall'd bishop[280] damn me with a note. +Let one poor sprig of bay around my head +Bloom whilst I live, and point me out when dead; +Let it (may Heaven, indulgent, grant that prayer!) +Be planted on my grave, nor wither there; +And when, on travel bound, some rhyming guest +Roams through the churchyard, whilst his dinner's dress'd, 150 +Let it hold up this comment to his eyes-- +'Life to the last enjoy'd, here Churchill lies;' +Whilst (oh, what joy that pleasing flattery gives!) +Reading my works, he cries--'Here Churchill lives.' + Enough of Satire--in less harden'd times +Great was her force, and mighty were her rhymes. +I've read of men, beyond man's daring brave, +Who yet have trembled at the strokes she gave; +Whose souls have felt more terrible alarms +From her one line, than from a world in arms. 160 +When in her faithful and immortal page +They saw transmitted down from age to age +Recorded villains, and each spotted name +Branded with marks of everlasting shame, +Succeeding villains sought her as a friend, +And, if not really mended, feign'd to mend; +But in an age, when actions are allow'd +Which strike all honour dead, and crimes avow'd +Too terrible to suffer the report, +Avow'd and praised by men who stain a court, 170 +Propp'd by the arm of Power; when Vice, high born, +High-bred, high-station'd, holds rebuke in scorn; +When she is lost to every thought of fame, +And, to all virtue dead, is dead to shame; +When Prudence a much easier task must hold +To make a new world, than reform the old, +Satire throws by her arrows on the ground, +And if she cannot cure, she will not wound. + Come, Panegyric--though the Muse disdains, +Founded on truth, to prostitute her strains 180 +At the base instance of those men, who hold +No argument but power, no god but gold, +Yet, mindful that from Heaven she drew her birth, +She scorns the narrow maxims of this earth; +Virtuous herself, brings Virtue forth to view, +And loves to praise, where praise is justly due. + Come, Panegyric--in a former hour, +My soul with pleasure yielding to thy power, +Thy shrine I sought, I pray'd--but wanton air, +Before it reach'd thy ears, dispersed my prayer; 190 +E'en at thy altars whilst I took my stand, +The pen of Truth and Honour in my hand, +Fate, meditating wrath 'gainst me and mine, +Chid my fond zeal, and thwarted my design, +Whilst, Hayter[281] brought too quickly to his end, +I lost a subject and mankind a friend. + Come, Panegyric--bending at thy throne, +Thee and thy power my soul is proud to own +Be thou my kind protector, thou my guide, +And lead me safe through passes yet untried. 200 +Broad is the road, nor difficult to find, +Which to the house of Satire leads mankind; +Narrow and unfrequented are the ways, +Scarce found out in an age, which lead to praise. + What though no theme I choose of vulgar note, +Nor wish to write as brother bards have wrote, +So mild, so meek in praising, that they seem +Afraid to wake their patrons from a dream; +What though a theme I choose, which might demand +The nicest touches of a master's hand; 210 +Yet, if the inward workings of my soul +Deceive me not, I shall attain the goal, +And Envy shall behold, in triumph raised, +The poet praising, and the patron praised. + What patron shall I choose? Shall public voice, +Or private knowledge, influence my choice? +Shall I prefer the grand retreat of Stowe, +Or, seeking patriots, to friend Wildman's[282] go? + 'To Wildman's!' cried Discretion, (who had heard, +Close standing at my elbow, every word) 220 +'To Wildman's! Art thou mad? Canst thou be sure +One moment there to have thy head secure? +Are they not all, (let observation tell) +All mark'd in characters as black as Hell, +In Doomsday book, by ministers set down, +Who style their pride the honour of the crown? +Make no reply--let Reason stand aloof-- +Presumptions here must pass as solemn proof. +That settled faith, that love which ever springs +In the best subjects, for the best of kings, 230 +Must not be measured now by what men think, +Or say, or do;--by what they eat and drink, +Where, and with whom, that question's to be tried, +And statesmen are the judges to decide; +No juries call'd, or, if call'd, kept in awe; +They, facts confess'd, in themselves vest the law. +Each dish at Wildman's of sedition smacks; +Blasphemy may be gospel at Almacks.'[283] + Peace, good Discretion! peace--thy fears are vain; +Ne'er will I herd with Wildman's factious train; 240 +Never the vengeance of the great incur, +Nor, without might, against the mighty stir. +If, from long proof, my temper you distrust, +Weigh my profession, to my gown be just; +Dost thou one parson know so void of grace +To pay his court to patrons out of place? + If still you doubt (though scarce a doubt remains) +Search through my alter'd heart, and try my reins; +There, searching, find, nor deem me now in sport, +A convert made by Sandwich to the court. 250 +Let madmen follow error to the end, +I, of mistakes convinced, and proud to mend, +Strive to act better, being better taught, +Nor blush to own that change which Reason wrought: +For such a change as this, must Justice speak; +My heart was honest, but my head was weak. + Bigot to no one man, or set of men, +Without one selfish view, I drew my pen; +My country ask'd, or seem'd to ask, my aid, +Obedient to that call, I left off trade; 260 +A side I chose, and on that side was strong, +Till time hath fairly proved me in the wrong: +Convinced, I change, (can any man do more?) +And have not greater patriots changed before? +Changed, I at once, (can any man do less?) +Without a single blush, that change confess; +Confess it with a manly kind of pride, +And quit the losing for the winning side, +Granting, whilst virtuous Sandwich holds the rein, +What Bute for ages might have sought in vain. 270 + Hail, Sandwich!--nor shall Wilkes resentment show, +Hearing the praises of so brave a foe-- +Hail, Sandwich!--nor, through pride, shalt thou refuse +The grateful tribute of so mean a Muse-- +Sandwich, all hail!--when Bute with foreign hand, +Grown wanton with ambition, scourged the land; +When Scots, or slaves to Scotsmen, steer'd the helm; +When peace, inglorious peace, disgraced the realm, +Distrust, and general discontent prevail'd; +But when, (he best knows why) his spirits fail'd; 280 +When, with a sudden panic struck, he fled, +Sneak'd out of power, and hid his recreant head; +When, like a Mars, (Fear order'd to retreat) +We saw thee nimbly vault into his seat, +Into the seat of power, at one bold leap, +A perfect connoisseur in statesmanship; +When, like another Machiavel, we saw +Thy fingers twisting, and untwisting law, +Straining, where godlike Reason bade, and where +She warranted thy mercy, pleased to spare; 290 +Saw thee resolved, and fix'd (come what, come might) +To do thy God, thy king, thy country right; +All things were changed, suspense remain'd no more, +Certainty reign'd where Doubt had reign'd before: +All felt thy virtues, and all knew their use, +What virtues such as thine must needs produce. + Thy foes (for Honour ever meets with foes) +Too mean to praise, too fearful to oppose, +In sullen silence sit; thy friends (some few, +Who, friends to thee, are friends to Honour too) 300 +Plaud thy brave bearing, and the Commonweal +Expects her safety from thy stubborn zeal. +A place amongst the rest the Muses claim, +And bring this freewill-offering to thy fame; +To prove their virtue, make thy virtues known, +And, holding up thy fame, secure their own. + From his youth upwards to the present day, +When vices, more than years, have mark'd him gray; +When riotous Excess, with wasteful hand, +Shakes life's frail glass, and hastes each ebbing sand, 310 +Unmindful from what stock he drew his birth, +Untainted with one deed of real worth, +Lothario, holding honour at no price, +Folly to folly added, vice to vice, +Wrought sin with greediness, and sought for shame +With greater zeal than good men seek for fame. + Where (Reason left without the least defence) +Laughter was mirth, obscenity was sense: +Where Impudence made Decency submit; +Where noise was humour, and where whim was wit; 320 +Where rude, untemper'd license had the merit +Of liberty, and lunacy was spirit; +Where the best things were ever held the worst, +Lothario was, with justice, always first. + To whip a top, to knuckle down at taw, +To swing upon a gate, to ride a straw, +To play at push-pin with dull brother peers, +To belch out catches in a porter's ears, +To reign the monarch of a midnight cell, +To be the gaping chairman's oracle; 330 +Whilst, in most blessed union, rogue and whore +Clap hands, huzza, and hiccup out, 'Encore;' +Whilst gray Authority, who slumbers there +In robes of watchman's fur, gives up his chair; +With midnight howl to bay the affrighted moon, +To walk with torches through the streets at noon; +To force plain Nature from her usual way, +Each night a vigil, and a blank each day; +To match for speed one feather 'gainst another, +To make one leg run races with his brother; 340 +'Gainst all the rest to take the northern wind, +Bute to ride first, and he to ride behind; +To coin newfangled wagers, and to lay 'em, +Laying to lose, and losing not to pay 'em; +Lothario, on that stock which Nature gives, +Without a rival stands, though March yet lives. + When Folly, (at that name, in duty bound, +Let subject myriads kneel, and kiss the ground, +Whilst they who, in the presence, upright stand, +Are held as rebels through the loyal land) 350 +Queen every where, but most a queen in courts, +Sent forth her heralds, and proclaim'd her sports; +Bade fool with fool on her behalf engage, +And prove her right to reign from age to age, +Lothario, great above the common size, +With all engaged, and won from all the prize; +Her cap he wears, which from his youth he wore, +And every day deserves it more and more. + Nor in such limits rests his soul confined; +Folly may share but can't engross his mind; 360 +Vice, bold substantial Vice, puts in her claim, +And stamps him perfect in the books of Shame. +Observe his follies well, and you would swear +Folly had been his first, his only care; +Observe his vices, you'll that oath disown, +And swear that he was born for vice alone. + Is the soft nature of some hapless maid, +Fond, easy, full of faith, to be betray'd? +Must she, to virtue lost, be lost to fame, +And he who wrought her guilt declare her shame? 370 +Is some brave friend, who, men but little known, +Deems every heart as honest as his own, +And, free himself, in others fears no guile, +To be ensnared, and ruin'd with a smile? +Is Law to be perverted from her course? +Is abject fraud to league with brutal force? +Is Freedom to be crush'd, and every son +Who dares maintain her cause, to be undone? +Is base Corruption, creeping through the land, +To plan, and work her ruin, underhand, 380 +With regular approaches, sure, though slow? +Or must she perish by a single blow? +Are kings, who trust to servants, and depend +In servants (fond, vain thought!) to find a friend, +To be abused, and made to draw their breath +In darkness thicker than the shades of death? +Is God's most holy name to be profaned, +His word rejected, and his laws arraign'd, +His servants scorn'd, as men who idly dream'd, +His service laugh'd at, and his Son blasphemed? 390 +Are debauchees in morals to preside? +Is Faith to take an Atheist for her guide? +Is Science by a blockhead to be led? +Are States to totter on a drunkard's head? +To answer all these purposes, and more, +More black than ever villain plann'd before, +Search earth, search hell, the Devil cannot find +An agent like Lothario to his mind. + Is this nobility, which, sprung from kings, +Was meant to swell the power from whence it springs; 400 +Is this the glorious produce, this the fruit, +Which Nature hoped for from so rich a root? +Were there but two, (search all the world around) +Were there but two such nobles to be found, +The very name would sink into a term +Of scorn, and man would rather be a worm +Than be a lord: but Nature, full of grace, +Nor meaning birth and titles to be base, +Made only one, and having made him, swore, +In mercy to mankind, to make no more: 410 +Nor stopp'd she there, but, like a generous friend, +The ills which Error caused, she strove to mend, +And having brought Lothario forth to view, +To save her credit, brought forth Sandwich too. + Gods! with what joy, what honest joy of heart, +Blunt as I am, and void of every art, +Of every art which great ones in the state +Practise on knaves they fear, and fools they hate, +To titles with reluctance taught to bend, +Nor prone to think that virtues can descend, 420 +Do I behold (a sight, alas! more rare +Than Honesty could wish) the noble wear +His father's honours, when his life makes known +They're his by virtue, not by birth alone; +When he recalls his father from the grave, +And pays with interest back that fame he gave: +Cured of her splenetic and sullen fits, +To such a peer my willing soul submits, +And to such virtue is more proud to yield +Than 'gainst ten titled rogues to keep the field. 430 +Such, (for that truth e'en Envy shall allow) +Such Wyndham was, and such is Sandwich now. + O gentle Montague! in blessed hour +Didst thou start up, and climb the stairs of power; +England of all her fears at once was eased, +Nor, 'mongst her many foes, was one displeased: +France heard the news, and told it cousin Spain; +Spain heard, and told it cousin France again; +The Hollander relinquished his design +Of adding spice to spice, and mine to mine; 440 +Of Indian villanies he thought no more, +Content to rob us on our native shore: +Awed by thy fame, (which winds with open mouth +Shall blow from east to west, from north to south) +The western world shall yield us her increase, +And her wild sons be soften'd into peace; +Rich eastern monarchs shall exhaust their stores, +And pour unbounded wealth on Albion's shores; +Unbounded wealth, which from those golden scenes, +And all acquired by honourable means, 450 +Some honourable chief shall hither steer, +To pay our debts, and set the nation clear. + Nabobs themselves, allured by thy renown, +Shall pay due homage to the English crown; +Shall freely as their king our king receive-- +Provided the Directors give them leave. + Union at home shall mark each rising year, +Nor taxes be complain'd of, though severe; +Envy her own destroyer shall become, +And Faction with her thousand mouths be dumb: 460 +With the meek man thy meekness shall prevail, +Nor with the spirited thy spirit fail: +Some to thy force of reason shall submit, +And some be converts to thy princely wit: +Reverence for thee shall still a nation's cries, +A grand concurrence crown a grand excise; +And unbelievers of the first degree, +Who have no faith in God, have faith in thee. + When a strange jumble, whimsical and vain, +Possess'd the region of each heated brain; 470 +When some were fools to censure, some to praise, +And all were mad, but mad in different ways; +When commonwealthsmen, starting at the shade +Which in their own wild fancy had been made, +Of tyrants dream'd, who wore a thorny crown, +And with state bloodhounds hunted Freedom down; +When others, struck with fancies not less vain, +Saw mighty kings by their own subjects slain, +And, in each friend of Liberty and Law, +With horror big, a future Cromwell saw, 480 +Thy manly zeal stept forth, bade discord cease, +And sung each jarring atom into peace; +Liberty, cheer'd by thy all-cheering eye, +Shall, waking from her trance, live and not die; +And, patronised by thee, Prerogative +Shall, striding forth at large, not die, but live; +Whilst Privilege, hung betwixt earth and sky, +Shall not well know whether to live or die. + When on a rock which overhung the flood, +And seem'd to totter, Commerce shivering stood; 490 +When Credit, building on a sandy shore, +Saw the sea swell, and heard the tempest roar, +Heard death in every blast, and in each wave +Or saw, or fancied that she saw her grave; +When Property, transferr'd from hand to band, +Weaken'd by change, crawl'd sickly through the land; +When mutual confidence was at an end, +And man no longer could on man depend; +Oppress'd with debts of more than common weight, +When all men fear'd a bankruptcy of state; 500 +When, certain death to honour, and to trade, +A sponge was talk'd of as our only aid; +That to be saved we must be more undone, +And pay off all our debts, by paying none; +Like England's better genius, born to bless, +And snatch his sinking country from distress, +Didst thou step forth, and, without sail or oar, +Pilot the shatter'd vessel safe to shore: +Nor shalt thou quit, till, anchor'd firm and fast, +She rides secure, and mocks the threatening blast! 510 + Born in thy house, and in thy service bred, +Nursed in thy arms, and at thy table fed, +By thy sage counsels to reflection brought, +Yet more by pattern than by precept taught, +Economy her needful aid shall join +To forward and complete thy grand design, +And, warm to save, but yet with spirit warm, +Shall her own conduct from thy conduct form. +Let friends of prodigals say what they will, +Spendthrifts at home, abroad are spendthrifts still. 520 +In vain have sly and subtle sophists tried +Private from public justice to divide; +For credit on each other they rely, +They live together, and together die, +'Gainst all experience 'tis a rank offence, +High treason in the eye of Common-sense, +To think a statesman ever can be known +To pay our debts, who will not pay his own: +But now, though late, now may we hope to see +Our debts discharged, our credit fair and free, 530 +Since rigid Honesty (fair fall that hour!) +Sits at the helm, and Sandwich is in power. +With what delight I view thee, wondrous man, +With what delight survey thy sterling plan, +That plan which all with wonder must behold, +And stamp thy age the only age of Gold. + Nor rest thy triumphs here--that Discord fled, +And sought with grief the hell where she was bred; +That Faction, 'gainst her nature forced to yield, +Saw her rude rabble scatter'd o'er the field, 540 +Saw her best friends a standing jest become, +Her fools turn'd speakers, and her wits struck dumb; +That our most bitter foes (so much depends +On men of name) are turn'd to cordial friends; +That our offended friends (such terror flows +From men of name) dare not appear our foes; +That Credit, gasping in the jaws of Death, +And ready to expire with every breath, +Grows stronger from disease; that thou hast saved +Thy drooping country; that thy name, engraved 550 +On plates of brass, defies the rage of Time; +Than plates of brass more firm, that sacred rhyme +Embalms thy memory, bids thy glories live, +And gives thee what the Muse alone can give:-- +These heights of Virtue, these rewards of Fame, +With thee in common other patriots claim. + But, that poor sickly Science, who had laid +And droop'd for years beneath Neglect's cold shade, +By those who knew her purposely forgot, +And made the jest of those who knew her not: 560 +Whilst Ignorance in power, and pamper'd pride, +'Clad like a priest, pass'd by on t'other side,' +Recover'd from her wretched state, at length +Puts on new health, and clothes herself with strength, +To thee we owe, and to thy friendly hand +Which raised, and gave her to possess the land: +This praise, though in a court, and near a throne, +This praise is thine, and thine, alas! alone. + With what fond rapture did the goddess smile, +What blessings did she promise to this isle, 570 +What honour to herself, and length of reign, +Soon as she heard that thou didst not disdain +To be her steward; but what grief, what shame, +What rage, what disappointment, shook her frame, +When her proud children dared her will dispute, +When Youth was insolent,[284] and Age was mute! + That young men should be fools, and some wild few, +To Wisdom deaf, be deaf to Interest too, +Moved not her wonder; but that men, grown gray +In search of wisdom; men who own'd the sway 580 +Of Reason; men who stubbornly kept down +Each rising passion; men who wore the gown; +That they should cross her will, that they should dare +Against the cause of Interest to declare; +That they should be so abject and unwise, +Having no fear of loss before their eyes, +Nor hopes of gain; scorning the ready means +Of being vicars, rectors, canons, deans, +With all those honours which on mitres wait, +And mark the virtuous favourites of state; 590 +That they should dare a Hardwicke to support, +And talk, within the hearing of a court, +Of that vile beggar, Conscience, who, undone, +And starved herself, starves every wretched son; +This turn'd her blood to gall, this made her swear +No more to throw away her time and care +On wayward sons who scorn'd her love, no more +To hold her courts on Cam's ungrateful shore. +Rather than bear such insults, which disgrace +Her royalty of nature, birth, and place, 600 +Though Dulness there unrivall'd state doth keep, +Would she at Winchester with Burton[285] sleep; +Or, to exchange the mortifying scene +For something still more dull, and still more mean, +Rather than bear such insults, she would fly +Far, far beyond the search of English eye, +And reign amongst the Scots: to be a queen +Is worth ambition, though in Aberdeen. +Oh, stay thy flight, fair Science! what though some, +Some base-born children, rebels are become? 610 +All are not rebels; some are duteous still, +Attend thy precepts, and obey thy will; +Thy interest is opposed by those alone +Who either know not, or oppose their own. + Of stubborn virtue, marching to thy aid, +Behold in black, the livery of their trade, +Marshall'd by Form, and by Discretion led, +A grave, grave troop, and Smith[286] is at their head, +Black Smith of Trinity; on Christian ground +For faith in mysteries none more renown'd. 620 +Next, (for the best of causes now and then +Must beg assistance from the worst of men) +Next (if old story lies not) sprung from Greece, +Comes Pandarus, but comes without his niece: +Her, wretched maid! committed to his trust, +To a rank letcher's coarse and bloated lust +The arch, old, hoary hypocrite had sold, +And thought himself and her well damn'd for gold. +But (to wipe off such traces from the mind, +And make us in good humour with mankind) 630 +Leading on men, who, in a college bred, +No woman knew, but those which made their bed; +Who, planted virgins on Cam's virtuous shore, +Continued still male virgins at threescore, +Comes Sumner,[287] wise, and chaste as chaste can be, +With Long,[288] as wise, and not less chaste than he. + Are there not friends, too, enter'd in thy cause +Who, for thy sake, defying penal laws, +Were, to support thy honourable plan, +Smuggled from Jersey, and the Isle of Man? 640 +Are there not Philomaths of high degree +Who, always dumb before, shall speak for thee? +Are there not Proctors, faithful to thy will, +One of full growth, others in embryo still, +Who may, perhaps, in some ten years, or more, +Be ascertain'd that two and two make four, +Or may a still more happy method find, +And, taking one from two, leave none behind? + With such a mighty power on foot, to yield +Were death to manhood; better in the field 650 +To leave our carcases, and die with fame, +Than fly, and purchase life on terms of shame. +Sackvilles[289] alone anticipate defeat, +And ere they dare the battle, sound retreat. + But if persuasions ineffectual prove, +If arguments are vain, nor prayers can move, +Yet in thy bitterness of frantic woe +Why talk of Burton? why to Scotland go? +Is there not Oxford? she, with open arms, +Shall meet thy wish, and yield up all her charms: 660 +Shall for thy love her former loves resign, +And jilt the banish'd Stuarts to be thine. + Bow'd to the yoke, and, soon as she could read, +Tutor'd to get by heart the despot's creed, +She, of subjection proud, shall knee thy throne, +And have no principles but thine alone; +She shall thy will implicitly receive, +Nor act, nor speak, nor think, without thy leave. +Where is the glory of imperial sway +If subjects none but just commands obey? 670 +Then, and then only, is obedience seen, +When by command they dare do all that's mean: +Hither, then, wing thy flight, here fix thy stand, +Nor fail to bring thy Sandwich in thy hand. + Gods! with what joy, (for Fancy now supplies, +And lays the future open to my eyes) +Gods! with what joy I see the worthies meet, +And Brother Litchfield[290] Brother Sandwich greet! +Blest be your greetings, blest each dear embrace; +Blest to yourselves, and to the human race. 680 +Sickening at virtues, which she cannot reach, +Which seem her baser nature to impeach, +Let Envy, in a whirlwind's bosom hurl'd, +Outrageous, search the corners of the world, +Ransack the present times, look back to past, +Rip up the future, and confess at last, +No times, past, present, or to come, could e'er +Produce, and bless the world with such a pair. + Phillips,[291] the good old Phillips, out of breath, +Escaped from Monmouth, and escaped from death, 690 +Shall hail his Sandwich with that virtuous zeal, +That glorious ardour for the commonweal, +Which warm'd his loyal heart and bless'd his tongue, +When on his lips the cause of rebels hung; +Whilst Womanhood, in habit of a nun, +At Medenham[292] lies, by backward monks undone; +A nation's reckoning, like an alehouse score, +Whilst Paul, the aged, chalks behind a door, +Compell'd to hire a foe to cast it up, +Dashwood shall pour, from a communion cup, 700 +Libations to the goddess without eyes, +And hob or nob in cider and excise. + From those deep shades, where Vanity, unknown, +Doth penance for her pride, and pines alone, +Cursed in herself, by her own thoughts undone, +Where she sees all, but can be seen by none; +Where she, no longer mistress of the schools, +Hears praise loud pealing from the mouths of fools, +Or hears it at a distance, in despair +To join the crowd, and put in for a share, 710 +Twisting each thought a thousand different ways, +For his new friends new-modelling old praise; +Where frugal sense so very fine is spun, +It serves twelve hours, though not enough for one, +King[293] shall arise, and, bursting from the dead, +Shall hurl his piebald Latin at thy head. + Burton (whilst awkward affectation hung +In quaint and labour'd accents on his tongue, +Who 'gainst their will makes junior blockheads speak, +Ignorant of both, new Latin and new Greek, 720 +Not such as was in Greece and Latium known, +But of a modern cut, and all his own; +Who threads, like beads, loose thoughts on such a string, +They're praise and censure; nothing, every thing; +Pantomime thoughts, and style so full of trick, +They even make a Merry Andrew sick; +Thoughts all so dull, so pliant in their growth, +They're verse, they're prose, they're neither, and they're both) +Shall (though by nature ever both to praise) +Thy curious worth set forth in curious phrase; 730 +Obscurely stiff, shall press poor Sense to death, +Or in long periods run her out of breath; +Shall make a babe, for which, with all his fame, +Adam could not have found a proper name, +Whilst, beating out his features to a smile, +He hugs the bastard brat, and calls it Style. + Hush'd be all Nature as the land of Death; +Let each stream sleep, and each wind hold his breath; +Be the bells muffled, nor one sound of Care, +Pressing for audience, wake the slumbering air; 740 +Browne[294] comes--behold how cautiously he creeps-- +How slow he walks, and yet how fast he sleeps-- +But to thy praise in sleep he shall agree; +He cannot wake, but he shall dream of thee. + Physic, her head with opiate poppies crown'd, +Her loins by the chaste matron Camphire bound; +Physic, obtaining succour from the pen +Of her soft son, her gentle Heberden,[295] +If there are men who can thy virtue know, +Yet spite of virtue treat thee as a foe, 750 +Shall, like a scholar, stop their rebel breath, +And in each recipe send classic death. + So deep in knowledge, that few lines can sound +And plumb the bottom of that vast profound, +Few grave ones with such gravity can think, +Or follow half so fast as he can sink; +With nice distinctions glossing o'er the text, +Obscure with meaning, and in words perplex'd, +With subtleties on subtleties refined, +Meant to divide and subdivide the mind, 760 +Keeping the forwardness of youth in awe, +The scowling Blackstone[296] bears the train of law. + Divinity, enrobed in college fur, +In her right hand a new Court Calendar, +Bound like a book of prayer, thy coming waits +With all her pack, to hymn thee in the gates. +Loyalty, fix'd on Isis' alter'd shore, +A stranger long, but stranger now no more, +Shall pitch her tabernacle, and, with eyes +Brimful of rapture, view her new allies; 770 +Shall, with much pleasure and more wonder, view +Men great at court, and great at Oxford too. + O sacred Loyalty! accursed be those +Who, seeming friends, turn out thy deadliest foes, +Who prostitute to kings thy honour'd name, +And soothe their passions to betray their fame; +Nor praised be those, to whose proud nature clings +Contempt of government, and hate of kings, +Who, willing to be free, not knowing how, +A strange intemperance of zeal avow, 780 +And start at Loyalty, as at a word +Which without danger Freedom never heard. + Vain errors of vain men--wild both extremes, +And to the state not wholesome, like the dreams, +Children of night, of Indigestion bred, +Which, Reason clouded, seize and turn the head; +Loyalty without Freedom is a chain +Which men of liberal notice can't sustain; +And Freedom without Loyalty, a name +Which nothing means, or means licentious shame. 790 + Thine be the art, my Sandwich, thine the toil, +In Oxford's stubborn and untoward soil +To rear this plant of union, till at length, +Rooted by time, and foster'd into strength, +Shooting aloft, all danger it defies, +And proudly lifts its branches to the skies; +Whilst, Wisdom's happy son but not her slave, +Gay with the gay, and with the grave ones grave, +Free from the dull impertinence of thought, +Beneath that shade, which thy own labours wrought 800 +And fashion'd into strength, shalt thou repose, +Secure of liberal praise, since Isis flows, +True to her Tame, as duty hath decreed, +Nor longer, like a harlot, lust for Tweed, +And those old wreaths, which Oxford once dared twine +To grace a Stuart brow, she plants on thine. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [276] 'Garrick abroad:' Garrick, in September 1763, in order to make + his value more appreciated after his return, resolved to visit the + continent. + + [277] 'Langhorne:' John Langhorne, D.D., the translator of Plutarch. + + [278] 'France:' Wilkes had fled to France to escape the prosecutions + entered against him. + + [279] 'Sneaking peer:' John Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, was the + author of severe 'Observations on the Life of Swift.' + + [280] 'Bishop:' Bishop Warburton. + + [281] 'Hayter:' Dr Thomas Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and next of + London, died prematurely. + + [282] 'Wildman's:' a tavern in Albemarle Street. + + [283] 'Almacks:' Old Almacks, a noted Tory club-house in Pall Mall. + + [284] 'Youth was insolent:' the younger members of the University were + unanimous in favour of Lord Hardwicke, and incurred the censure of + their superiors. + + [285] 'Burton:' Dr John Burton, head master of Winchester school. + + [286] 'Smith:' Dr Smith, master of Trinity College, Cambridge, a + mechanical and musical genius. + + [287] 'Sumner:' the Rev. Dr Humphrey Sumner, Vice Chancellor of the + University of Cambridge. + + [288] 'Long:' Roger Long, D.D., professor of Astronomy, Cambridge. + + [289] 'Sackville:' Sir George, who behaved scandalously at the battle + of Minden. + + [290] 'Brother Litchfield:' the last Earl of Litchfield succeeded the + Earl of Westmoreland as Chancellor of the University of Oxford, in + 1762, through Lord Bute's influence. + + [291] 'Phillips:' Sir John Phillips, a barrister and active member of + the House of Commons, a defender of the rebellion in 1745. + + [292] 'Medenham:' or as it was commonly called, Mednam Abbey, was a + very large house on the banks of the Thames, near Marlow, in Bucks, + where infamous doings went on under the auspices of Sir F. Dashwood, + Lord Sandwich, and others. + + [293] 'King:' Dr William King, LL.D., Principal of St Mary's Hall. + + [294] 'Browne:' Dr William Browne, Lord Litchfield's Vice-Chancellor + of the University of Oxford from 1759 to 1769. + + [295] 'Heberden:' Dr William Heberden, the celebrated physician, the + first who used the wet-sheet. + + [296] 'Blackstone:' Dr Blackstone, afterwards Sir William Blackstone, + Solicitor-General, and a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas. + + + + +THE FAREWELL. + +_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell +To all the follies which in Europe dwell; +To Eastern India now, a richer clime, +Richer, alas! in everything but rhyme, +The Muses steer their course; and, fond of change, +At large, in other worlds, desire to range; +Resolved, at least, since they the fool must play, +To do it in a different place, and way. + _F_. What whim is this, what error of the brain, +What madness worse than in the dog-star's reign? 10 +Why into foreign countries would you roam, +Are there not knaves and fools enough at home? +If satire be thy object--and thy lays +As yet have shown no talents fit for praise-- +If satire be thy object, search all round, +Nor to thy purpose can one spot be found +Like England, where, to rampant vigour grown, +Vice chokes up every virtue; where, self-sown, +The seeds of folly shoot forth rank and bold, +And every seed brings forth a hundredfold. 20 + _P_. No more of this--though Truth, (the more our shame, +The more our guilt) though Truth perhaps may claim, +And justify her part in this, yet here, +For the first time, e'en Truth offends my ear; +Declaim from morn to night, from night to morn, +Take up the theme anew, when day's new-born, +I hear, and hate--be England what she will, +With all her faults, she is my country still. + _F_. Thy country! and what then? Is that mere word +Against the voice of Reason to be heard? 30 +Are prejudices, deep imbibed in youth, +To counteract, and make thee hate the truth? +'Tis sure the symptom of a narrow soul +To draw its grand attachment from the whole, +And take up with a part; men, not confined +Within such paltry limits, men design'd +Their nature to exalt, where'er they go, +Wherever waves can roll, and winds can blow, +Where'er the blessed sun, placed in the sky +To watch this subject world, can dart his eye, 40 +Are still the same, and, prejudice outgrown, +Consider every country as their own; +At one grand view they take in Nature's plan, +Not more at home in England than Japan. + _P_. My good, grave Sir of Theory, whose wit, +Grasping at shadows, ne'er caught substance yet, +'Tis mighty easy o'er a glass of wine +On vain refinements vainly to refine, +To laugh at poverty in plenty's reign, +To boast of apathy when out of pain, 50 +And in each sentence, worthy of the schools, +Varnish'd with sophistry, to deal out rules +Most fit for practice, but for one poor fault +That into practice they can ne'er be brought. + At home, and sitting in your elbow-chair, +You praise Japan, though you was never there: +But was the ship this moment under sail, +Would not your mind be changed, your spirits fail? +Would you not cast one longing eye to shore, +And vow to deal in such wild schemes no more? 60 +Howe'er our pride may tempt us to conceal +Those passions which we cannot choose but feel, +There's a strange something, which, without a brain, +Fools feel, and which e'en wise men can't explain, +Planted in man to bind him to that earth, +In dearest ties, from whence he drew his birth. + If Honour calls, where'er she points the way +The sons of Honour follow, and obey; +If need compels, wherever we are sent +'Tis want of courage not to be content; 70 +But, if we have the liberty of choice, +And all depends on our own single voice, +To deem of every country as the same +Is rank rebellion 'gainst the lawful claim +Of Nature, and such dull indifference +May be philosophy, but can't be sense. + _F_. Weak and unjust distinction, strange design, +Most peevish, most perverse, to undermine +Philosophy, and throw her empire down +By means of Sense, from whom she holds her crown, 80 +Divine Philosophy! to thee we owe +All that is worth possessing here below; +Virtue and wisdom consecrate thy reign, +Doubled each joy, and pain no longer pain. + When, like a garden, where, for want of toil +And wholesome discipline, the rich, rank soil +Teems with incumbrances; where all around, +Herbs, noxious in their nature, make the ground, +Like the good mother of a thankless son, +Curse her own womb, by fruitfulness undone; 90 +Like such a garden, when the human soul, +Uncultured, wild, impatient of control, +Brings forth those passions of luxuriant race, +Which spread, and stifle every herb of grace; +Whilst Virtue, check'd by the cold hand of Scorn, +Seems withering on the bed where she was born, +Philosophy steps in; with steady hand, +She brings her aid, she clears the encumber'd land; +Too virtuous to spare Vice one stroke, too wise +One moment to attend to Pity's cries-- 100 +See with what godlike, what relentless power +She roots up every weed! + _P_. And every flower. +Philosophy, a name of meek degree, +Embraced, in token of humility, +By the proud sage, who, whilst he strove to hide, +In that vain artifice reveal'd his pride; +Philosophy, whom Nature had design'd +To purge all errors from the human mind, +Herself misled by the philosopher, +At once her priest and master, made us err: 110 +Pride, pride, like leaven in a mass of flour, +Tainted her laws, and made e'en Virtue sour. + Had she, content within her proper sphere, +Taught lessons suited to the human ear, +Which might fair Virtue's genuine fruits produce, +Made not for ornament, but real use, +The heart of man, unrivall'd, she had sway'd, +Praised by the good, and by the bad obey'd; +But when she, overturning Reason's throne, +Strove proudly in its place to plant her own; 120 +When she with apathy the breast would steel, +And teach us, deeply feeling, not to feel; +When she would wildly all her force employ, +Not to correct our passions, but destroy; +When, not content our nature to restore, +As made by God, she made it all new o'er; +When, with a strange and criminal excess, +To make us more than men, she made us less; +The good her dwindled power with pity saw, +The bad with joy, and none but fools with awe. 130 + Truth, with a simple and unvarnish'd tale, +E'en from the mouth of Norton might prevail, +Could she get there; but Falsehood's sugar'd strain +Should pour her fatal blandishments in vain, +Nor make one convert, though the Siren hung, +Where she too often hangs, on Mansfield's tongue. +Should all the Sophs, whom in his course the sun +Hath seen, or past, or present, rise in one; +Should he, whilst pleasure in each sentence flows, +Like Plato, give us poetry in prose; 140 +Should he, full orator, at once impart +The Athenian's genius with the Roman's art; +Genius and Art should in this instance fail, +Nor Rome, though join'd with Athens, here prevail. +'Tis not in man, 'tis not in more than man, +To make me find one fault in Nature's plan. +Placed low ourselves, we censure those above, +And, wanting judgment, think that she wants love; +Blame, where we ought in reason to commend, +And think her most a foe when most a friend. 150 +Such be philosophers--their specious art, +Though Friendship pleads, shall never warp my heart, +Ne'er make me from this breast one passion tear, +Which Nature, my best friend, hath planted there. + _F_. Forgiving as a friend, what, whilst I live, +As a philosopher I can't forgive, +In this one point at last I join with you, +To Nature pay all that is Nature's due; +But let not clouded Reason sink so low, +To fancy debts she does not, cannot owe: 160 +Bear, to full manhood grown, those shackles bear, +Which Nature meant us for a time to wear, +As we wear leading-strings, which, useless grown, +Are laid aside, when we can walk alone; +But on thyself, by peevish humour sway'd, +Wilt thou lay burdens Nature never laid? +Wilt thou make faults, whilst Judgment weakly errs, +And then defend, mistaking them for hers? +Darest thou to say, in our enlighten'd age, +That this grand master passion, this brave rage, 170 +Which flames out for thy country, was impress'd +And fix'd by Nature in the human breast? + If you prefer the place where you were born, +And hold all others in contempt and scorn, +On fair comparison; if on that land +With liberal, and a more than equal hand, +Her gifts, as in profusion, Plenty sends; +If Virtue meets with more and better friends; +If Science finds a patron 'mongst the great; +If Honesty is minister of state; 180 +If Power, the guardian of our rights design'd, +Is to that great, that only end, confined; +If riches are employ'd to bless the poor; +If Law is sacred, Liberty secure; +Let but these facts depend on proofs of weight, +Reason declares thy love can't be too great, +And, in this light could he our country view, +A very Hottentot must love it too. + But if, by Fate's decrees, you owe your birth +To some most barren and penurious earth, 190 +Where, every comfort of this life denied, +Her real wants are scantily supplied; +Where Power is Reason, Liberty a joke, +Laws never made, or made but to be broke; +To fix thy love on such a wretched spot, +Because in Lust's wild fever there begot; +Because, thy weight no longer fit to bear, +By chance, not choice, thy mother dropp'd thee there, +Is folly, which admits not of defence; +It can't be Nature, for it is not sense. 200 +By the same argument which here you hold, +(When Falsehood's insolent, let Truth be told) +If Propagation can in torments dwell, +A devil must, if born there, love his Hell. + _P_. Had Fate, to whose decrees I lowly bend, +And e'en in punishment confess a friend, +Ordain'd my birth in some place yet untried, +On purpose made to mortify my pride, +Where the sun never gave one glimpse of day, +Where Science never yet could dart one ray, 210 +Had I been born on some bleak, blasted plain +Of barren Scotland, in a Stuart's reign, +Or in some kingdom, where men, weak, or worse, +Turn'd Nature's every blessing to a curse; +Where crowns of freedom, by the fathers won, +Dropp'd leaf by leaf from each degenerate son; +In spite of all the wisdom you display, +All you have said, and yet may have to say, +My weakness here, if weakness I confess, +I, as my country, had not loved her less. 220 + Whether strict Reason bears me out in this, +Let those who, always seeking, always miss +The ways of Reason, doubt with precious zeal; +Theirs be the praise to argue, mine to feel. +Wish we to trace this passion to the root, +We, like a tree, may know it by its fruit; +From its rich stem ten thousand virtues spring, +Ten thousand blessings on its branches cling; +Yet in the circle of revolving years +Not one misfortune, not one vice, appears. 230 +Hence, then, and what you Reason call, adore; +This, if not Reason, must be something more. + But (for I wish not others to confine; +Be their opinions unrestrain'd as mine) +Whether this love's of good or evil growth, +A vice, a virtue, or a spice of both, +Let men of nicer argument decide; +If it is virtuous, soothe an honest pride +With liberal praise; if vicious, be content, +It is a vice I never can repent; 240 +A vice which, weigh'd in Heaven, shall more avail +Than ten cold virtues in the other scale. + _F_. This wild, untemper'd zeal (which, after all, +We, candour unimpeach'd, might madness call) +Is it a virtue? That you scarce pretend; +Or can it be a vice, like Virtue's friend, +Which draws us off from and dissolves the force +Of private ties, nay, stops us in our course +To that grand object of the human soul, +That nobler love which comprehends the whole? 250 +Coop'd in the limits of this petty isle, +This nook, which scarce deserves a frown or smile, +Weigh'd with Creation, you, by whim undone, +Give all your thoughts to what is scarce worth one. +The generous soul, by Nature taught to soar, +Her strength confirm'd in philosophic lore, +At one grand view takes in a world with ease, +And, seeing all mankind, loves all she sees. + _P_. Was it most sure, which yet a doubt endures, +Not found in Reason's creed, though found in yours, 260 +That these two services, like what we're told, +And know, of God's and Mammon's, cannot hold +And draw together; that, however both, +We neither serve, attempting to serve both, +I could not doubt a moment which to choose, +And which in common reason to refuse. + Invented oft for purposes of art, +Born of the head, though father'd on the heart, +This grand love of the world must be confess'd +A barren speculation at the best. 270 +Not one man in a thousand, should he live +Beyond the usual term of life, could give, +So rare occasion comes, and to so few, +Proof whether his regards are feign'd, or true. +The love we bear our country is a root +Which never fails to bring forth golden fruit; +'Tis in the mind an everlasting spring +Of glorious actions, which become a king, +Nor less become a subject; 'tis a debt +Which bad men, though they pay not, can't forget; 280 +A duty, which the good delight to pay, +And every man can practise every day. + Nor, for my life (so very dim my eye, +Or dull your argument) can I descry +What you with faith assert, how that dear love, +Which binds me to my country, can remove, +And make me of necessity forego, +That general love which to the world I owe. +Those ties of private nature, small extent, +In which the mind of narrow cast is pent, 290 +Are only steps on which the generous soul +Mounts by degrees till she includes the whole. +That spring of love, which, in the human mind, +Founded on self, flows narrow and confined, +Enlarges as it rolls, and comprehends +The social charities of blood and friends, +Till, smaller streams included, not o'erpast, +It rises to our country's love at last; +And he, with liberal and enlarged mind, +Who loves his country, cannot hate mankind. 300 + _F_. Friend, as you would appear, to Common Sense, +Tell me, or think no more of a defence, +Is it a proof of love by choice to run +A vagrant from your country? + _P_. Can the son +(Shame, shame on all such sons!) with ruthless eye, +And heart more patient than the flint, stand by, +And by some ruffian, from all shame divorced, +All virtue, see his honour'd mother forced? +Then--no, by Him that made me! not e'en then, +Could I with patience, by the worst of men, 310 +Behold my country plunder'd, beggar'd, lost +Beyond redemption, all her glories cross'd, +E'en when occasion made them ripe, her fame +Fled like a dream, while she awakes to shame. + _F_. Is it not more the office of a friend, +The office of a patron, to defend +Her sinking state, than basely to decline +So great a cause, and in despair resign? + _P_. Beyond my reach, alas! the grievance lies, +And, whilst more able patriots doubt, she dies. 320 +From a foul source, more deep than we suppose, +Fatally deep and dark, this grievance flows. +'Tis not that peace our glorious hopes defeats: +'Tis not the voice of Faction in the streets; +'Tis not a gross attack on Freedom made; +Tis not the arm of Privilege display'd, +Against the subject, whilst she wears no sting +To disappoint the purpose of a king; +These are no ills, or trifles, if compared +With those which are contrived, though not declared. 330 + Tell me, Philosopher, is it a crime +To pry into the secret womb of Time; +Or, born in ignorance, must we despair +To reach events, and read the future there? +Why, be it so--still 'tis the right of man, +Imparted by his Maker, where he can, +To former times and men his eye to cast, +And judge of what's to come, by what is past. + Should there be found, in some not distant year, +(Oh, how I wish to be no prophet here!) 340 +Amongst our British Lords should there be found +Some great in power, in principles unsound, +Who look on Freedom with an evil eye, +In whom the springs of Loyalty are dry; +Who wish to soar on wild Ambition's wings, +Who hate the Commons, and who love not Kings; +Who would divide the people and the throne, +To set up separate interests of their own; +Who hate whatever aids their wholesome growth, +And only join with, to destroy them both; 350 +Should there be found such men in after-times, +May Heaven, in mercy to our grievous crimes, +Allot some milder vengeance, nor to them, +And to their rage, this wretched land condemn, + Thou God above, on whom all states depend, +Who knowest from the first their rise, and end, +If there's a day mark'd in the book of Fate, +When ruin must involve our equal state; +When law, alas! must be no more, and we, +To freedom born, must be no longer free; 360 +Let not a mob of tyrants seize the helm, +Nor titled upstarts league to rob the realm; +Let not, whatever other ills assail, +A damned aristocracy prevail. +If, all too short, our course of freedom run, +'Tis thy good pleasure we should be undone, +Let us, some comfort in our griefs to bring, +Be slaves to one, and be that one a king. + _F_. Poets, accustom'd by their trade to feign, +Oft substitute creations of the brain 370 +For real substance, and, themselves deceived, +Would have the fiction by mankind believed. +Such is your case--but grant, to soothe your pride, +That you know more than all the world beside, +Why deal in hints, why make a moment's doubt? +Resolved, and like a man, at once speak out; +Show us our danger, tell us where it lies, +And, to ensure our safety, make us wise. + _P_. Rather than bear the pain of thought, fools stray; +The proud will rather lose than ask their way: 380 +To men of sense what needs it to unfold, +And tell a tale which they must know untold? +In the bad, interest warps the canker'd heart, +The good are hoodwink'd by the tricks of art; +And, whilst arch, subtle hypocrites contrive +To keep the flames of discontent alive; +Whilst they, with arts to honest men unknown, +Breed doubts between the people and the throne, +Making us fear, where Reason never yet +Allow'd one fear, or could one doubt admit, 390 +Themselves pass unsuspected in disguise, +And 'gainst our real danger seal our eyes. + _F_. Mark them, and let their names recorded stand +On Shame's black roll, and stink through all the land. + _P_. That might some courage, but no prudence be; +No hurt to them, and jeopardy to me. + _F_. Leave out their names. + _P_. For that kind caution, thanks; +But may not judges sometimes fill up blanks? + _F_. Your country's laws in doubt then you reject? 400 + _P_. The laws I love, the lawyers I suspect. +Amongst twelve judges may not one be found +(On bare, bare possibility I ground +This wholesome doubt) who may enlarge, retrench, +Create, and uncreate, and from the bench, +With winks, smiles, nods, and such like paltry arts, +May work and worm into a jury's hearts? +Or, baffled there, may, turbulent of soul, +Cramp their high office, and their rights control; +Who may, though judge, turn advocate at large, 410 +And deal replies out by the way of charge, +Making Interpretation all the way, +In spite of facts, his wicked will obey, +And, leaving Law without the least defence, +May damn his conscience to approve his sense? + _F_. Whilst, the true guardians of this charter'd land, +In full and perfect vigour, juries stand, +A judge in vain shall awe, cajole, perplex. + _P_. Suppose I should be tried in Middlesex? + _F_. To pack a jury they will never dare. 420 + _P_. There's no occasion to pack juries there.[297] + _F_. 'Gainst prejudice all arguments are weak; +Reason herself without effect must speak. +Fly then thy country, like a coward fly, +Renounce her interest, and her laws defy. +But why, bewitch'd, to India turn thine eyes? +Cannot our Europe thy vast wrath suffice? +Cannot thy misbegotten Muse lay bare +Her brawny arm, and play the butcher there? + _P_. Thy counsel taken, what should Satire do? 430 +Where could she find an object that is new? +Those travell'd youths, whom tender mothers wean, +And send abroad to see, and to be seen; +With whom, lest they should fornicate, or worse, +A tutor's sent by way of a dry nurse; +Each of whom just enough of spirit bears +To show our follies, and to bring home theirs, +Have made all Europe's vices so well known, +They seem almost as natural as our own. + _F_. Will India for thy purpose better do? 440 + _P_. In one respect, at least--there's something new. + _F_. A harmless people, in whom Nature speaks +Free and untainted,'mongst whom Satire seeks, +But vainly seeks, so simply plain their hearts, +One bosom where to lodge her poison'd darts. + _P_. From knowledge speak you this? or, doubt on doubt +Weigh'd and resolved, hath Reason found it out? +Neither from knowledge, nor by Reason taught, +You have faith every where, but where you ought. +India or Europe--what's there in a name? 450 +Propensity to vice in both the same, +Nature alike in both works for man's good, +Alike in both by man himself withstood. +Nabobs, as well as those who hunt them down, +Deserve a cord much better than a crown, +And a Mogul can thrones as much debase +As any polish'd prince of Christian race. + _F_. Could you,--a task more hard than you suppose,-- +Could you, in ridicule whilst Satire glows, +Make all their follies to the life appear, 460 +'Tis ten to one you gain no credit here; +Howe'er well drawn, the picture, after all, +Because we know not the original, +Would not find favour in the public eye. + _P_. That, having your good leave, I mean to try: +And if your observations sterling hold, +If the piece should be heavy, tame, and cold, +To make it to the side of Nature lean, +And meaning nothing, something seem to mean: +To make the whole in lively colours glow, 470 +To bring before us something that we know, +And from all honest men applause to win, +I'll group the Company,[298] and put them in. + _F_. Be that ungenerous thought by shame suppress'd, +Add not distress to those too much distress'd; +Have they not, by blind zeal misled, laid bare +Those sores which never might endure the air? +Have they not brought their mysteries so low, +That what the wise suspected not, fools know? +From their first rise e'en to the present hour, 480 +Have they not proved their own abuse of power, +Made it impossible, if fairly view'd, +Ever to have that dangerous power renew'd, +Whilst, unseduced by ministers, the throne +Regards our interests, and knows its own? + _P_. Should every other subject chance to fail, +Those who have sail'd, and those who wish'd to sail +In the last fleet, afford an ample field, +Which must beyond my hopes a harvest yield. + _F_. On such vile food Satire can never thrive. 490 + _P_. She cannot starve, if there was only Clive.[299] + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [297] 'Juries there:' alluding to the then recent acquittal from the + charge of perjury, by the petty jury, of Mr Philip Carteret Webb, + solicitor to the Treasury, who had sworn against Wilkes. + + [298] 'Company:' East Indian Co. + + [299] 'Clive:' See Macaulay's Essay. + + + + +THE TIMES. + +The time hath been, a boyish, blushing time, +When modesty was scarcely held a crime; +When the most wicked had some touch of grace, +And trembled to meet Virtue face to face; +When those, who, in the cause of Sin grown gray, +Had served her without grudging day by day, +Were yet so weak an awkward shame to feel +And strove that glorious service to conceal: +We, better bred, and than our sires more wise, +Such paltry narrowness of soul despise: 10 +To virtue every mean pretence disclaim, +Lay bare our crimes, and glory in our shame. + Time was, ere Temperance had fled the realm, +Ere Luxury sat guttling at the helm +From meal to meal, without one moment's space +Reserved for business or allow'd for grace; +Ere Vanity had so far conquer'd Sense +To make us all wild rivals in expense, +To make one fool strive to outvie another, +And every coxcomb dress against his brother; 20 +Ere banish'd Industry had left our shores, +And Labour was by Pride kick'd out of doors; +Ere Idleness prevail'd sole queen in courts, +Or only yielded to a rage for sports; +Ere each weak mind was with externals caught, +And dissipation held the place of thought; +Ere gambling lords in vice so far were gone +To cog the die, and bid the sun look on; +Ere a great nation, not less just than free, +Was made a beggar by economy; 30 +Ere rugged Honesty was out of vogue; +Ere Fashion stamp'd her sanction on the rogue; +Time was, that men had conscience, that they made +Scruples to owe what never could be paid. +Was one then found, however high his name, +So far above his fellows damn'd to shame, +Who dared abuse, and falsify his trust, +Who, being great, yet dared to be unjust, +Shunn'd like a plague, or but at distance view'd, +He walk'd the crowded streets in solitude, 40 +Nor could his rank and station in the land +Bribe one mean knave to take him by the hand. +Such rigid maxims (Oh! might such revive +To keep expiring Honesty alive) +Made rogues, all other hopes of fame denied, +Not just through principle, be just through pride. + Our times, more polish'd, wear a different face; +Debts are an honour, payment a disgrace. +Men of weak minds, high-placed on Folly's list, +May gravely tell us trade cannot subsist, 50 +Nor all those thousands who're in trade employ'd, +If faith 'twixt man and man is once destroy'd. +Why--be it so--we in that point accord; +But what are trade, and tradesmen, to a lord? + Faber, from day to day, from year to year, +Hath had the cries of tradesmen in his ear, +Of tradesmen by his villany betray'd, +And, vainly seeking justice, bankrupts made. +What is't to Faber? Lordly as before, +He sits at ease, and lives to ruin more: 60 +Fix'd at his door, as motionless as stone, +Begging, but only begging for their own, +Unheard they stand, or only heard by those, +Those slaves in livery, who mock their woes. +What is't to Faber? He continues great, +Lives on in grandeur, and runs out in state. +The helpless widow, wrung with deep despair, +In bitterness of soul pours forth her prayer, +Hugging her starving babes with streaming eyes, +And calls down vengeance, vengeance from the skies. 70 +What is't to Faber? He stands safe and clear, +Heaven can commence no legal action here; +And on his breast a mighty plate he wears, +A plate more firm than triple brass, which bears +The name of Privilege, 'gainst vulgar awe; +He feels no conscience, and he fears no law. + Nor think, acquainted with small knaves alone, +Who have not shame outlived, and grace outgrown, +The great world hidden from thy reptile view, +That on such men, to whom contempt is due, 80 +Contempt shall fall, and their vile author's name +Recorded stand through all the land of shame. +No--to his porch, like Persians to the sun, +Behold contending crowds of courtiers run; +See, to his aid what noble troops advance, +All sworn to keep his crimes in countenance; +Nor wonder at it--they partake the charge, +As small their conscience, and their debts as large. + Propp'd by such clients, and without control +From all that's honest in the human soul; 90 +In grandeur mean, with insolence unjust, +Whilst none but knaves can praise, and fools will trust, +Caress'd and courted, Faber seems to stand +A mighty pillar in a guilty land. +And (a sad truth, to which succeeding times +Will scarce give credit, when 'tis told in rhymes) +Did not strict Honour with a jealous eye +Watch round the throne, did not true Piety +(Who, link'd with Honour for the noblest ends, +Ranks none but honest men amongst her friends) 100 +Forbid us to be crush'd with such a weight, +He might in time be minister of state. + But why enlarge I on such petty crimes? +They might have shock'd the faith of former times, +But now are held as nothing--we begin +Where our sires ended, and improve in sin, +Rack our invention, and leave nothing new +In vice and folly for our sons to do. + Nor deem this censure hard; there's not a place +Most consecrate to purposes of Grace, 110 +Which Vice hath not polluted; none so high, +But with bold pinion she hath dared to fly, +And build there for her pleasure; none so low +But she hath crept into it, made it know +And feel her power; in courts, in camps, she reigns, +O'er sober citizens, and simple swains; +E'en in our temples she hath fix'd her throne, +And 'bove God's holy altars placed her own. + More to increase the horror of our state, +To make her empire lasting as 'tis great; 120 +To make us, in full-grown perfection, feel +Curses which neither Art nor Time can heal; +All shame discarded, all remains of pride, +Meanness sits crown'd, and triumphs by her side: +Meanness, who gleans out of the human mind +Those few good seeds which Vice had left behind, +Those seeds which might in time to virtue tend, +And leaves the soul without a power to mend; +Meanness, at sight of whom, with brave disdain, +The breast of Manhood swells, but swells in vain; 130 +Before whom Honour makes a forced retreat, +And Freedom is compell'd to quit her seat; +Meanness, which, like that mark by bloody Cain +Borne in his forehead for a brother slain, +God, in his great and all-subduing rage, +Ordains the standing mark of this vile age. + The venal hero trucks his fame for gold, +The patriot's virtue for a place is sold; +The statesman bargains for his country's shame, +And, for preferment, priests their God disclaim; 140 +Worn out with lust, her day of lechery o'er, +The mother trains the daughter whom she bore +In her own paths; the father aids the plan, +And, when the innocent is ripe for man, +Sells her to some old lecher for a wife, +And makes her an adulteress for life; +Or in the papers bids his name appear, +And advertises for a L----: +Husband and wife (whom Avarice must applaud) +Agree to save the charge of pimp and bawd; 150 +Those parts they play themselves, a frugal pair, +And share the infamy, the gain to share; +Well pleased to find, when they the profits tell, +That they have play'd the whore and rogue so well. + Nor are these things (which might imply a spark +Of shame still left) transacted in the dark: +No--to the public they are open laid, +And carried on like any other trade: +Scorning to mince damnation, and too proud +To work the works of darkness in a cloud, 160 +In fullest vigour Vice maintains her sway; +Free are her marts, and open at noonday. +Meanness, now wed to Impudence, no more +In darkness skulks, and trembles, as of yore, +When the light breaks upon her coward eye; +Boldly she stalks on earth, and to the sky +Lifts her proud head, nor fears lest time abate, +And turn her husband's love to canker'd hate, +Since Fate, to make them more sincerely one, +Hath crown'd their loves with Montague their son; 170 +A son so like his dam, so like his sire, +With all the mother's craft, the father's fire, +An image so express in every part, +So like in all bad qualities of heart, +That, had they fifty children, he alone +Would stand as heir apparent to the throne. + With our own island vices not content, +We rob our neighbours on the Continent; +Dance Europe round, and visit every court, +To ape their follies, and their crimes import: 180 +To different lands for different sins we roam, +And, richly freighted, bring our cargo home, +Nobly industrious to make Vice appear +In her full state, and perfect only here. + To Holland, where politeness ever reigns, +Where primitive sincerity remains, +And makes a stand; where Freedom in her course +Hath left her name, though she hath lost her force +In that as other lands; where simple Trade +Was never in the garb of Fraud array'd; 190 +Where Avarice never dared to show his head; +Where, like a smiling cherub, Mercy, led +By Reason, blesses the sweet-blooded race, +And Cruelty could never find a place; +To Holland for that charity we roam, +Which happily begins and ends at home. + France, in return for peace and power restored, +For all those countries which the hero's sword +Unprofitably purchased, idly thrown +Into her lap, and made once more her own; 200 +France hath afforded large and rich supplies +Of vanities full trimm'd; of polish'd lies; +Of soothing flatteries, which through the ears +Steal to, and melt the heart; of slavish fears +Which break the spirit, and of abject fraud-- +For which, alas! we need not send abroad. + Spain gives us Pride--which Spain to all the earth +May largely give, nor fear herself a dearth-- +Gives us that Jealousy, which, born of Fear +And mean Distrust, grows not by Nature here-- 210 +Gives us that Superstition, which pretends +By the worst means to serve the best of ends-- +That Cruelty, which, stranger to the brave, +Dwells only with the coward and the slave; +That Cruelty, which led her Christian bands +With more than savage rage o'er savage lands, +Bade her, without remorse, whole countries thin, +And hold of nought, but Mercy, as a sin. + Italia, nurse of every softer art, +Who, feigning to refine, unmans the heart; 220 +Who lays the realms of Sense and Virtue waste; +Who mars while she pretends to mend our taste; +Italia, to complete and crown our shame, +Sends us a fiend, and Legion is his name. +The farce of greatness without being great, +Pride without power, titles without estate, +Souls without vigour, bodies without force, +Hate without cause, revenge without remorse, +Dark, mean revenge, murder without defence, +Jealousy without love, sound without sense, 230 +Mirth without humour, without wit grimace, +Faith without reason, Gospel without Grace, +Zeal without knowledge, without nature art, +Men without manhood, women without heart; +Half-men, who, dry and pithless, are debarr'd +From man's best joys--no sooner made than marr'd-- +Half-men, whom many a rich and noble dame, +To serve her lust, and yet secure her fame, +Keeps on high diet, as we capons feed, +To glut our appetites at last decreed; 240 +Women, who dance in postures so obscene, +They might awaken shame in Aretine; +Who when, retired from the day's piercing light, +They celebrate the mysteries of Night, +Might make the Muses, in a corner placed +To view their monstrous lusts, them Sappho chaste; +These, and a thousand follies rank as these, +A thousand faults, ten thousand fools, who please +Our pall'd and sickly taste, ten thousand knaves, +Who serve our foes as spies, and us as slaves, 250 +Who, by degrees, and unperceived, prepare +Our necks for chains which they already wear, +Madly we entertain, at the expense +Of fame, of virtue, taste, and common sense. + Nor stop we here--the soft luxurious East, +Where man, his soul degraded, from the beast +In nothing different but in shape we view, +They walk on four legs, and he walks on two, +Attracts our eye; and flowing from that source, +Sins of the blackest character, sins worse 260 +Than all her plagues, which truly to unfold, +Would make the best blood in my veins run cold, +And strike all manhood dead, which but to name, +Would call up in my cheeks the marks of shame: +Sins, if such sins can be, which shut out grace, +Which for the guilty leave no hope, no place, +E'en in God's mercy; sins 'gainst Nature's plan +Possess the land at large, and man for man +Burns, in those fires, which Hell alone could raise +To make him more than damn'd; which, in the days 270 +Of punishment, when guilt becomes her prey, +With all her tortures she can scarce repay. + Be grace shut out, be mercy deaf, let God +With tenfold terrors arm that dreadful nod +Which speaks them lost, and sentenced to despair; +Distending wide her jaws, let Hell prepare, +For those who thus offend amongst mankind, +A fire more fierce, and tortures more refined. +On earth, which groans beneath their monstrous weight, +On earth, alas! they meet a different fate; 280 +And whilst the laws, false grace, false mercy shown, +Are taught to wear a softness not their own, +Men, whom the beasts would spurn, should they appear +Amongst the honest herd, find refuge here. + No longer by vain fear or shame controll'd, +From long, too long, security grown bold, +Mocking rebuke, they brave it in our streets, +And Lumley e'en at noon his mistress meets: +So public in their crimes, so daring grown, +They almost take a pride to have them known, 290 +And each unnatural villain scarce endures +To make a secret of his vile amours. +Go where we will, at every time and place, +Sodom confronts, and stares us in the face; +They ply in public at our very doors, +And take the bread from much more honest whores. +Those who are mean high paramours secure, +And the rich guilty screen the guilty poor; +The sin too proud to feel from reason awe, +And those who practise it, too great for law. 300 + Woman, the pride and happiness of man, +Without whose soft endearments Nature's plan +Had been a blank, and life not worth a thought; +Woman, by all the Loves and Graces taught, +With softest arts, and sure, though hidden skill, +To humanise, and mould us to her will; +Woman, with more than common grace form'd here, +With the persuasive language of a tear +To melt the rugged temper of our isle, +Or win us to her purpose with a smile; 310 +Woman, by Fate the quickest spur decreed, +The fairest, best reward of every deed +Which bears the stamp of honour; at whose name +Our ancient heroes caught a quicker flame, +And dared beyond belief, whilst o'er the plain, +Spurning the carcases of princes slain, +Confusion proudly strode, whilst Horror blew +The fatal trump, and Death stalk'd full in view; +Woman is out of date, a thing thrown by, +As having lost its use: no more the eye, 320 +With female beauty caught, in wild amaze, +Gazes entranced, and could for ever gaze; +No more the heart, that seat where Love resides, +Each breath drawn quick and short, in fuller tides +Life posting through the veins, each pulse on fire, +And the whole body tingling with desire, +Pants for those charms, which Virtue might engage, +To break his vow, and thaw the frost of Age, +Bidding each trembling nerve, each muscle strain, +And giving pleasure which is almost pain. 330 +Women are kept for nothing but the breed; +For pleasure we must have a Ganymede, +A fine, fresh Hylas, a delicious boy, +To serve our purposes of beastly joy. + Fairest of nymphs, where every nymph is fair, +Whom Nature form'd with more than common care, +With more than common care whom Art improved, +And both declared most worthy to be loved, +---- neglected wanders, whilst a crowd +Pursue and consecrate the steps of ----; 340 +She, hapless maid, born in a wretched hour, +Wastes life's gay prime in vain, like some fair flower, +Sweet in its scent, and lively in its hue, +Which withers on the stalk from whence it grew, +And dies uncropp'd; whilst he, admired, caress'd, +Beloved, and everywhere a welcome guest, +With brutes of rank and fortune plays the whore, +For their unnatural lust a common sewer. + Dine with Apicius--at his sumptuous board +Find all, the world of dainties can afford-- 350 +And yet (so much distemper'd spirits pall +The sickly appetite) amidst them all +Apicius finds no joy, but, whilst he carves +For every guest, the landlord sits and starves. + The forest haunch, fine, fat, in flavour high, +Kept to a moment, smokes before his eye, +But smokes in vain; his heedless eye runs o'er +And loathes what he had deified before: +The turtle, of a great and glorious size, +Worth its own weight in gold, a mighty prize 360 +For which a man of taste all risks would run, +Itself a feast, and every dish in one; +The turtle in luxurious pomp comes in, +Kept, kill'd, cut up, prepared, and dress'd by Quin;[300] +In vain it comes, in vain lies full in view; +As Quin hath dress'd it, he may eat it too; +Apicius cannot. When the glass goes round, +Quick-circling, and the roofs with mirth resound, +Sober he sits, and silent--all alone +Though in a crowd, and to himself scarce known: 370 +On grief he feeds: nor friends can cure, nor wine +Suspend his cares, and make him cease to pine. + Why mourns Apicius thus? Why runs his eye, +Heedless, o'er delicates, which from the sky +Might call down Jove? Where now his generous wish, +That, to invent a new and better dish, +The world might burn, and all mankind expire, +So he might roast a phoenix at the fire? +Why swims that eye in tears, which, through a race +Of sixty years, ne'er show'd one sign of grace? 380 +Why feels that heart, which never felt before? +Why doth that pamper'd glutton eat no more, +Who only lived to eat, his stomach pall'd, +And drown'd in floods of sorrow? Hath Fate call'd +His father from the grave to second life? +Hath Clodius on his hands return'd his wife? +Or hath the law, by strictest justice taught, +Compell'd him to restore the dow'r she brought? +Hath some bold creditor, against his will, +Brought in, and forced him to discharge, a bill, 390 +Where eating had no share? Hath some vain wench +Run out his wealth, and forced him to retrench? +Hath any rival glutton got the start, +And beat him in his own luxurious art-- +Bought cates for which Apicius could not pay, +Or dress'd old dainties in a newer way? +Hath his cook, worthy to be flain with rods, +Spoil'd a dish fit to entertain the gods? +Or hath some varlet, cross'd by cruel Fate, +Thrown down the price of empires in a plate? 400 + None, none of these--his servants all are tried: +So sure, they walk on ice, and never slide; +His cook, an acquisition made in France, +Might put a Chloe[301] out of countenance; +Nor, though old Holles still maintains his stand, +Hath he one rival glutton in the land. +Women are all the objects of his hate; +His debts are all unpaid, and yet his state +In full security and triumph held, +Unless for once a knave should be expell'd: 410 +His wife is still a whore, and in his power, +The woman gone, he still retains the dower; +Sound in the grave (thanks to his filial care +Which mix'd the draught, and kindly sent him there) +His father sleeps, and, till the last trump shake +The corners of the earth, shall not awake. + Whence flows this sorrow, then? Behind his chair, +Didst thou not see, deck'd with a solitaire, +Which on his bare breast glittering play'd, and graced +With nicest ornaments, a stripling placed, 420 +A smooth, smug stripling, in life's fairest prime? +Didst thou not mind, too, how from time to time, +The monstrous lecher, tempted to despise +All other dainties, thither turn'd his eyes? +How he seem'd inly to reproach us all, +Who strove his fix'd attention to recall, +And how he wish'd, e'en at the time of grace, +Like Janus, to have had a double face? +His cause of grief behold in that fair boy; +Apicius dotes, and Corydon is coy. 430 + Vain and unthinking stripling! when the glass +Meets thy too curious eye, and, as you pass, +Flattering, presents in smiles thy image there, +Why dost thou bless the gods, who made thee fair? +Blame their large bounties, and with reason blame; +Curse, curse thy beauty, for it leads to shame; +When thy hot lord, to work thee to his end, +Bids showers of gold into thy breast descend, +Suspect his gifts, nor the vile giver trust; +They're baits for virtue, and smell strong of lust. 440 +On those gay, gaudy trappings, which adorn +The temple of thy body, look with scorn; +View them with horror; they pollution mean, +And deepest ruin: thou hast often seen +From 'mongst the herd, the fairest and the best +Carefully singled out, and richly dress'd, +With grandeur mock'd, for sacrifice decreed, +Only in greater pomp at last to bleed. +Be warn'd in time, the threaten'd danger shun, +To stay a moment is to be undone. 450 +What though, temptation proof, thy virtue shine, +Nor bribes can move, nor arts can undermine? +All other methods failing, one resource +Is still behind, and thou must yield to force. +Paint to thyself the horrors of a rape, +Most strongly paint, and, while thou canst, escape. +Mind not his promises--they're made in sport-- +Made to be broke--was he not bred at court? +Trust not his honour, he's a man of birth: +Attend not to his oaths--they're made on earth, 460 +Not register'd in heaven--he mocks at Grace, +And in his creed God never found a place; +Look not for Conscience--for he knows her not, +So long a stranger, she is quite forgot; +Nor think thyself in law secure and firm, +Thy master is a lord, and thou a worm, +A poor mean reptile, never meant to think, +Who, being well supplied with meat and drink, +And suffer'd just to crawl from place to place, +Must serve his lusts, and think he does thee grace. 470 + Fly then, whilst yet 'tis in thy power to fly; +But whither canst thou go? on whom rely +For wish'd protection? Virtue's sure to meet +An armed host of foes in every street. +What boots it, of Apicius fearful grown, +Headlong to fly into the arms of Stone? +Or why take refuge in the house of prayer +If sure to meet with an Apicius there? +Trust not old age, which will thy faith betray; +Saint Socrates is still a goat, though gray: 480 +Trust not green youth; Florio will scarce go down, +And, at eighteen, hath surfeited the town: +Trust not to rakes--alas! 'tis all pretence-- +They take up raking only as a fence +'Gainst common fame--place H---- in thy view, +He keeps one whore, as Barrowby kept two: +Trust not to marriage--T---- took a wife, +Who chaste as Dian might have pass'd her life, +Had she not, far more prudent in her aim, +(To propagate the honours of his name, 490 +And save expiring titles) taken care, +Without his knowledge, to provide an heir: +Trust not to marriage, in mankind unread; +S----'s a married man, and S---- new wed. + Wouldst thou be safe? Society forswear, +Fly to the desert, and seek shelter there; +Herd with the brutes--they follow Nature's plan-- +There's not one brute so dangerous as man +In Afric's wilds--'mongst them that refuge find +Which Lust denies thee here among mankind: 500 +Renounce thy name, thy nature, and no more +Pique thy vain pride on Manhood: on all four +Walk, as you see those honest creatures do, +And quite forget that once you walk'd on two. + But, if the thoughts of solitude alarm, +And social life hath one remaining charm; +If still thou art to jeopardy decreed +Amongst the monsters of Augusta's[302] breed, +Lay by thy sex, thy safety to procure; +Put off the man, from men to live secure; 510 +Go forth a woman to the public view, +And with their garb assume their manners too. +Had the light-footed Greek[303] of Chiron's school +Been wise enough to keep this single rule, +The maudlin hero, like a puling boy +Robb'd of his plaything, on the plains of Troy +Had never blubber'd at Patroclus' tomb, +And placed his minion in his mistress' room. +Be not in this than catamites more nice, +Do that for virtue, which they do for vice. 520 +Thus shalt thou pass untainted life's gay bloom, +Thus stand uncourted in the drawing-room; +At midnight thus, untempted, walk the street, +And run no danger but of being beat. + Where is the mother, whose officious zeal, +Discreetly judging what her daughters feel +By what she felt herself in days of yore, +Against that lecher man makes fast the door? +Who not permits, e'en for the sake of prayer, +A priest, uncastrated, to enter there, 530 +Nor (could her wishes, and her care prevail) +Would suffer in the house a fly that's male? +Let her discharge her cares, throw wide her doors, +Her daughters cannot, if they would, be whores; +Nor can a man be found, as times now go, +Who thinks it worth his while to make them so. + Though they more fresh, more lively than the morn, +And brighter than the noonday sun, adorn +The works of Nature; though the mother's grace +Revives, improved, in every daughter's face, 540 +Undisciplined in dull Discretion's rules, +Untaught and undebauch'd by boarding-schools, +Free and unguarded let them range the town, +Go forth at random, and run Pleasure down, +Start where she will; discard all taint of fear, +Nor think of danger, when no danger's near. +Watch not their steps--they're safe without thy care, +Unless, like jennets, they conceive by air, +And every one of them may die a nun, 550 +Unless they breed, like carrion, in the sun. +Men, dead to pleasure, as they're dead to grace, +Against the law of Nature set their face, +The grand primeval law, and seem combined +To stop the propagation of mankind; +Vile pathics read the Marriage Act with pride, +And fancy that the law is on their side. + Broke down, and strength a stranger to his bed, +Old L----[304], though yet alive, is dead; +T---- lives no more, or lives not to our isle; +No longer bless'd with a Cz----'s[305] smile; 560 +T---- is at P----[306] disgraced, +And M---- grown gray, perforce grows chaste; +Nor to the credit of our modest race, +Rises one stallion to supply their place. +A maidenhead, which, twenty years ago, +In mid December the rank fly would blow, +Though closely kept, now, when the Dog-star's heat +Inflames the marrow, in the very street +May lie untouch'd, left for the worms, by those +Who daintily pass by, and hold their nose; 570 +Poor, plain Concupiscence is in disgrace, +And simple Lechery dares not show her face, +Lest she be sent to bridewell; bankrupts made, +To save their fortunes, bawds leave off their trade, +Which first had left off them; to Wellclose Square +Fine, fresh, young strumpets (for Dodd[307] preaches there) +Throng for subsistence; pimps no longer thrive, +And pensions only keep L---- alive. + Where is the mother, who thinks all her pain, +And all her jeopardy of travail, gain 580 +When a man-child is born; thinks every prayer +Paid to the full, and answer'd in an heir? +Short-sighted woman! little doth she know +What streams of sorrow from that source may flow: +Little suspect, while she surveys her boy, +Her young Narcissus, with an eye of joy +Too full for continence, that Fate could give +Her darling as a curse; that she may live, +Ere sixteen winters their short course have run, +In agonies of soul, to curse that son. 590 + Pray then for daughters, ye wise mothers, pray; +They shall reward your love, nor make ye gray +Before your time with sorrow; they shall give +Ages of peace, and comfort; whilst ye live +Make life most truly worth your care, and save, +In spite of death, your memories from the grave. + That sense with more than manly vigour fraught, +That fortitude of soul, that stretch of thought, +That genius, great beyond the narrow bound +Of earth's low walk, that judgment perfect found 600 +When wanted most, that purity of taste, +Which critics mention by the name of chaste; +Adorn'd with elegance, that easy flow +Of ready wit, which never made a foe; +That face, that form, that dignity, that ease, +Those powers of pleasing, with that will to please, +By which Lepel,[308] when in her youthful days, +E'en from the currish Pope extorted praise, +We see, transmitted, in her daughter shine, +And view a new Lepel in Caroline.[309] 610 + Is a son born into this world of woe? +In never-ceasing streams let sorrow flow; +Be from that hour the house with sables hung, +Let lamentations dwell upon thy tongue; +E'en from the moment that he first began +To wail and whine, let him not see a man; +Lock, lock him up, far from the public eye; +Give him no opportunity to buy, +Or to be bought; B----, though rich, was sold, +And gave his body up to shame for gold. 620 + Let it be bruited all about the town, +That he is coarse, indelicate, and brown, +An antidote to lust; his face deep scarr'd +With the small-pox, his body maim'd and marr'd; +Ate up with the king's evil, and his blood +Tainted throughout, a thick and putrid flood, +Where dwells Corruption, making him all o'er, +From head to foot, a rank and running sore. +Shouldst thou report him, as by Nature made, +He is undone, and by thy praise betray'd; 630 +Give him out fair, lechers, in number more, +More brutal and more fierce, than throng'd the door +Of Lot in Sodom, shall to thine repair, +And force a passage, though a God is there. + Let him not have one servant that is male; +Where lords are baffled, servants oft prevail. +Some vices they propose to all agree; +H---- was guilty, but was M---- free? + Give him no tutor--throw him to a punk, +Rather than trust his morals to a monk-- 640 +Monks we all know--we, who have lived at home, +From fair report, and travellers, who roam, +More feelingly;--nor trust him to the gown, +'Tis oft a covering in this vile town +For base designs: ourselves have lived to see +More than one parson in the pillory. +Should he have brothers, (image to thy view +A scene, which, though not public made, is true) +Let not one brother be to t' other known, +Nor let his father sit with him alone. 650 +Be all his servants female, young and fair; +And if the pride of Nature spur thy heir +To deeds of venery, if, hot and wild, +He chance to get some score of maids with child, +Chide, but forgive him; whoredom is a crime +Which, more at this than any other time, +Calls for indulgence, and,'mongst such a race, +To have a bastard is some sign of grace. + Born in such times, should I sit tamely down, +Suppress my rage, and saunter through the town 660 +As one who knew not, or who shared these crimes? +Should I at lesser evils point my rhymes, +And let this giant sin, in the full eye +Of observation, pass unwounded by? +Though our meek wives, passive obedience taught, +Patiently bear those wrongs, for which they ought, +With the brave spirit of their dams possess'd, +To plant a dagger in each husband's breast, +To cut off male increase from this fair isle, +And turn our Thames into another Nile; 670 +Though, on his Sunday, the smug pulpiteer, +Loud 'gainst all other crimes, is silent here, +And thinks himself absolved, in the pretence +Of decency, which, meant for the defence +Of real virtue, and to raise her price, +Becomes an agent for the cause of vice; +Though the law sleeps, and through the care they take +To drug her well, may never more awake; +Born in such times, nor with that patience cursed +Which saints may boast of, I must speak or burst. 680 + But if, too eager in my bold career, +Haply I wound the nice, and chaster ear; +If, all unguarded, all too rude, I speak, +And call up blushes in the maiden's cheek, +Forgive, ye fair--my real motives view, +And to forgiveness add your praises too. +For you I write--nor wish a better plan, +The cause of woman is most worthy man-- +For you I still will write, nor hold my hand +Whilst there's one slave of Sodom in the land, 690 + Let them fly far, and skulk from place to place, +Not daring to meet manhood face to face, +Their steps I'll track, nor yield them one retreat +Where they may hide their heads, or rest their feet, +Till God, in wrath, shall let his vengeance fall, +And make a great example of them all, +Bidding in one grand pile this town expire, +Her towers in dust, her Thames a lake of fire; +Or they (most worth our wish) convinced, though late, +Of their past crimes, and dangerous estate, 700 +Pardon of women with repentance buy, +And learn to honour them, as much as I. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [300] 'Quin:' was a great voluptuary. + + [301] 'Chloe:' M. St Clouet, or Chloe, cook to Holles, Duke of + Newcastle. + + [302] 'Augusta:' London. + + [303] 'Light-footed Greek:' Achilles, who was left at Scyros, dressed + in female attire. + + [304] 'L----:' Ligonier. + + [305] 'Cz----'s:' Czarina's. + + [306] 'P----:' Petersburg. + + [307] 'Dodd:' the Rev. Dr William Dodd, the unfortunate divine, + afterwards hanged for forgery. See Boswell. + + [308] 'Lepel:' Mary, daughter of Brigadier-General Le Pell, married in + 1720 to John Lord Hervey. + + [309] 'Caroline:' Lady Caroline Hervey was the youngest daughter of + John Lord Hervey. + + + + +INDEPENDENCE. + +Happy the bard (though few such bards we find) +Who, 'bove controlment, dares to speak his mind; +Dares, unabash'd, in every place appear, +And nothing fears, but what he ought to fear: +Him Fashion cannot tempt, him abject Need +Cannot compel, him Pride cannot mislead +To be the slave of Greatness, to strike sail +When, sweeping onward with her peacock's tail, +Quality in full plumage passes by; +He views her with a fix'd, contemptuous eye, 10 +And mocks the puppet, keeps his own due state, +And is above conversing with the great. + Perish those slaves, those minions of the quill, +Who have conspired to seize that sacred hill +Where the Nine Sisters pour a genuine strain, +And sunk the mountain level with the plain; +Who, with mean, private views, and servile art, +No spark of virtue living in their heart, +Have basely turn'd apostates; have debased +Their dignity of office; have disgraced, 20 +Like Eli's sons, the altars where they stand, +And caused their name to stink through all the land; +Have stoop'd to prostitute their venal pen +For the support of great, but guilty men; +Have made the bard, of their own vile accord, +Inferior to that thing we call a lord. + What is a lord? Doth that plain simple word +Contain some magic spell? As soon as heard, +Like an alarum bell on Night's dull ear, +Doth it strike louder, and more strong appear 30 +Than other words? Whether we will or no, +Through Reason's court doth it unquestion'd go +E'en on the mention, and of course transmit +Notions of something excellent; of wit +Pleasing, though keen; of humour free, though chaste; +Of sterling genius, with sound judgment graced; +Of virtue far above temptation's reach, +And honour, which not malice can impeach? +Believe it not--'twas Nature's first intent, +Before their rank became their punishment, 40 +They should have pass'd for men, nor blush'd to prize +The blessings she bestow'd; she gave them eyes, +And they could see; she gave them ears--they heard; +The instruments of stirring, and they stirr'd; +Like us, they were design'd to eat, to drink, +To talk, and (every now and then) to think; +Till they, by Pride corrupted, for the sake +Of singularity, disclaim'd that make; +Till they, disdaining Nature's vulgar mode, +Flew off, and struck into another road, 50 +More fitting Quality, and to our view +Came forth a species altogether new, +Something we had not known, and could not know, +Like nothing of God's making here below; +Nature exclaim'd with wonder--'Lords are things, +Which, never made by me, were made by kings.' + A lord (nor let the honest and the brave, +The true old noble, with the fool and knave +Here mix his fame; cursed be that thought of mine, +Which with a B----[310] and E----[311] should Grafton[312] join), +A lord (nor here let Censure rashly call 61 +My just contempt of some, abuse of all, +And, as of late, when Sodom was my theme, +Slander my purpose, and my Muse blaspheme, +Because she stops not, rapid in her song, +To make exceptions as she goes along, +Though well she hopes to find, another year, +A whole minority exceptions here), +A mere, mere lord, with nothing but the name, +Wealth all his worth, and title all his fame, 70 +Lives on another man, himself a blank, +Thankless he lives, or must some grandsire thank +For smuggled honours, and ill-gotten pelf; +A bard owes all to Nature, and himself. + Gods! how my soul is burnt up with disdain, +When I see men, whom Phoebus in his train +Might view with pride, lackey the heels of those +Whom Genius ranks among her greatest foes! +And what's the cause? Why, these same sons of Scorn, +No thanks to them, were to a title born, 80 +And could not help it; by chance hither sent, +And only deities by accident. +Had Fortune on our getting chanced to shine, +Their birthright honours had been yours or mine, +'Twas a mere random stroke; and should the Throne +Eye thee with favour, proud and lordly grown, +Thou, though a bard, might'st be their fellow yet: +But Felix never can be made a wit. +No, in good faith--that's one of those few things +Which Fate hath placed beyond the reach of kings: 90 +Bards may be lords, but 'tis not in the cards, +Play how we will, to turn lords into bards. + A bard!--a lord!--why, let them, hand in hand, +Go forth as friends, and travel through the land; +Observe which word the people can digest +Most readily, which goes to market best, +Which gets most credit, whether men will trust +A bard, because they think he may be just, +Or on a lord will chose to risk their gains, +Though privilege in that point still remains. 100 + A bard!--a lord!--let Reason take her scales, +And fairly weigh those words, see which prevails, +Which in the balance lightly kicks the beam, +And which, by sinking, we the victor deem. + 'Tis done, and Hermes, by command of Jove, +Summons a synod in the sacred grove, +Gods throng with gods to take their chairs on high, +And sit in state, the senate of the sky, +Whilst, in a kind of parliament below, +Men stare at those above, and want to know 110 +What they're transacting: Reason takes her stand +Just in the midst, a balance in her hand, +Which o'er and o'er she tries, and finds it true: +From either side, conducted full in view, +A man comes forth, of figure strange and queer; +We now and then see something like them here. + The first[313] was meagre, flimsy, void of strength, +But Nature kindly had made up in length +What she in breadth denied; erect and proud, +A head and shoulders taller than the crowd, 120 +He deem'd them pigmies all; loose hung his skin +O'er his bare bones; his face so very thin, +So very narrow, and so much beat out, +That physiognomists have made a doubt, +Proportion lost, expression quite forgot, +Whether it could be call'd a face or not; +At end of it, howe'er, unbless'd with beard, +Some twenty fathom length of chin appear'd; +With legs, which we might well conceive that Fate +Meant only to support a spider's weight, 130 +Firmly he strove to tread, and with a stride, +Which show'd at once his weakness and his pride, +Shaking himself to pieces, seem'd to cry, +'Observe, good people, how I shake the sky.' + In his right hand a paper did he hold, +On which, at large, in characters of gold, +Distinct, and plain for those who run to see, +Saint Archibald[314] had wrote L, O, R, D. +This, with an air of scorn, he from afar +Twirl'd into Reason's scales, and on that bar, 140 +Which from his soul he hated, yet admired, +Quick turn'd his back, and, as he came, retired. +The judge to all around his name declared; +Each goddess titter'd, each god laugh'd, Jove stared, +And the whole people cried, with one accord, +'Good Heaven bless us all, is that a Lord!' + Such was the first--the second[315] was a man +Whom Nature built on quite a different plan; +A bear, whom, from the moment he was born, +His dam despised, and left unlick'd in scorn; 150 +A Babel, which, the power of Art outdone, +She could not finish when she had begun; +An utter Chaos, out of which no might, +But that of God, could strike one spark of light. + Broad were his shoulders, and from blade to blade +A H---- might at full length have laid; +Vast were his bones, his muscles twisted strong; +His face was short, but broader than 'twas long; +His features, though by Nature they were large, +Contentment had contrived to overcharge, 160 +And bury meaning, save that we might spy +Sense lowering on the penthouse of his eye; +His arms were two twin oaks; his legs so stout +That they might bear a Mansion-house about; +Nor were they, look but at his body there, +Design'd by Fate a much less weight to bear. + O'er a brown cassock, which had once been black, +Which hung in tatters on his brawny back, +A sight most strange, and awkward to behold, +He threw a covering of blue and gold. 170 +Just at that time of life, when man, by rule, +The fop laid down, takes up the graver fool, +He started up a fop, and, fond of show, +Look'd like another Hercules turn'd beau, +A subject met with only now and then, +Much fitter for the pencil than the pen; +Hogarth would draw him (Envy must allow) +E'en to the life, was Hogarth[316] living now. + With such accoutrements, with such a form, +Much like a porpoise just before a storm, 180 +Onward he roll'd; a laugh prevail'd around; +E'en Jove was seen to simper; at the sound +(Nor was the cause unknown, for from his youth +Himself he studied by the glass of Truth) +He joined their mirth; nor shall the gods condemn, +If, whilst they laugh at him, he laugh'd at them. +Judge Reason view'd him with an eye of grace, +Look'd through his soul, and quite forgot his face, +And, from his hand received, with fair regard +Placed in her other scale the name of Bard. 190 + Then, (for she did as judges ought to do, +She nothing of the case beforehand knew, +Nor wish'd to know; she never stretch'd the laws, +Nor, basely to anticipate a cause, +Compell'd solicitors, no longer free, +To show those briefs she had no right to see) +Then she with equal hand her scales held out, +Nor did the cause one moment hang in doubt; +She held her scales out fair to public view, +The Lord, as sparks fly upwards, upwards flew, 200 +More light than air, deceitful in the weight; +The Bard, preponderating, kept his state; +Reason approved, and with a voice, whose sound +Shook earth, shook heaven, on the clearest ground +Pronouncing for the Bards a full decree, +Cried--'Those must honour them, who honour me; +They from this present day, where'er I reign, +In their own right, precedence shall obtain; +Merit rules here: be it enough that Birth +Intoxicates, and sways the fools of earth.' 210 + Nor think that here, in hatred to a lord, +I've forged a tale, or alter'd a record; +Search when you will, (I am not now in sport) +You'll find it register'd in Reason's court. + Nor think that Envy here hath strung my lyre, +That I depreciate what I most admire, +And look on titles with an eye of scorn, +Because I was not to a title born. +By Him that made me, I am much more proud, +More inly satisfied to have a crowd 220 +Point at me as I pass, and cry--'That's he-- +A poor but honest bard, who dares be free +Amidst corruption,' than to have a train +Of flickering levee slaves, to make me vain +Of things I ought to blush for; to run, fly, +And live but in the motion of my eye; +When I am less than man, my faults to adore, +And make me think that I am something more. + Recall past times, bring back the days of old, +When the great noble bore his honours bold, 230 +And in the face of peril, when he dared +Things which his legal bastard, if declared, +Might well discredit; faithful to his trust, +In the extremest points of justice, just, +Well knowing all, and loved by all he knew, +True to his king, and to his country true; +Honest at court, above the baits of gain, +Plain in his dress, and in his manners plain; +Moderate in wealth, generous, but not profuse, +Well worthy riches, for he knew their use; 240 +Possessing much, and yet deserving more, +Deserving those high honours which he wore +With ease to all, and in return gain'd fame +Which all men paid, because he did not claim. +When the grim war was placed in dread array, +Fierce as the lion roaring for his prey, +Or lioness of royal whelps foredone; +In peace, as mild as the departing sun, +A general blessing wheresoe'er he turn'd, +Patron of learning, nor himself unlearn'd; 250 +Ever awake at Pity's tender call, +A father of the poor, a friend to all; +Recall such times, and from the grave bring back +A worth like this, my heart shall bend, or crack, +My stubborn pride give way, my tongue proclaim, +And every Muse conspire to swell his fame, +Till Envy shall to him that praise allow +Which she cannot deny to Temple now. + This justice claims, nor shall the bard forget, +Delighted with the task, to pay that debt, 260 +To pay it like a man, and in his lays, +Sounding such worth, prove his own right to praise. +But let not pride and prejudice misdeem, +And think that empty titles are my theme; +Titles, with me, are vain, and nothing worth; +I reverence virtue, but I laugh at birth. +Give me a lord that's honest, frank, and brave, +I am his friend, but cannot be his slave; +Though none, indeed, but blockheads would pretend +To make a slave, where they may make a friend; 270 +I love his virtues, and will make them known, +Confess his rank, but can't forget my own. +Give me a lord, who, to a title born, +Boasts nothing else, I'll pay him scorn with scorn. +What! shall my pride (and pride is virtue here) +Tamely make way if such a wretch appear? +Shall I uncover'd stand, and bend my knee +To such a shadow of nobility, +A shred, a remnant? he might rot unknown +For any real merit of his own, 280 +And never had come forth to public note +Had he not worn, by chance, his father's coat. +To think a M----[317] worth my least regards, +Is treason to the majesty of bards. + By Nature form'd (when, for her honour's sake, +She something more than common strove to make, +When, overlooking each minute defect, +And all too eager to be quite correct, +In her full heat and vigour she impress'd +Her stamp most strongly on the favour'd breast) 290 +The bard, (nor think too lightly that I mean +Those little, piddling witlings, who o'erween +Of their small parts, the Murphys of the stage, +The Masons and the Whiteheads of the age, +Who all in raptures their own works rehearse, +And drawl out measured prose, which they call verse) +The real bard, whom native genius fires, +Whom every maid of Castaly inspires, +Let him consider wherefore he was meant, +Let him but answer Nature's great intent, 300 +And fairly weigh himself with other men, +Would ne'er debase the glories of his pen, +Would in full state, like a true monarch, live, +Nor bate one inch of his prerogative. + Methinks I see old Wingate[318] frowning here, +(Wingate may in the season be a peer, +Though now, against his will, of figures sick, +He's forced to diet on arithmetic, +E'en whilst he envies every Jew he meets, +Who cries old clothes to sell about the streets) 310 +Methinks (his mind with future honours big, +His Tyburn bob turn'd to a dress'd bag wig) +I hear him cry--'What doth this jargon mean? +Was ever such a damn'd dull blockhead seen? +Majesty!--Bard!--Prerogative!--Disdain +Hath got into, and turn'd the fellow's brain: +To Bethlem with him--give him whips and straw-- +I'm very sensible he's mad in law. +A saucy groom, who trades in reason, thus +To set himself upon a par with us; 320 +If this _here's_ suffered, and if that _there_ fool, +May, when he pleases, send us all to school, +Why, then our only business is outright +To take our caps, and bid the world good night. +I've kept a bard myself this twenty years, +But nothing of this kind in him appears; +He, like a thorough true-bred spaniel, licks +The hand which cuffs him, and the foot which kicks; +He fetches and he carries, blacks my shoes, +Nor thinks it a discredit to his Muse; 330 +A creature of the right chameleon hue, +He wears my colours, yellow or true blue, +Just as I wear them: 'tis all one to him +Whether I change through conscience, or through whim. +Now this is something like; on such a plan +A bard may find a friend in a great man; +But this proud coxcomb--zounds, I thought that all +Of this queer tribe had been like my old Paul.'[319] + Injurious thought! accursed be the tongue +On which the vile insinuation hung, 340 +The heart where 'twas engender'd; cursed be those, +Those bards, who not themselves alone expose, +But me, but all, and make the very name +By which they're call'd a standing mark of shame. + Talk not of custom--'tis the coward's plea, +Current with fools, but passes not with me; +An old stale trick, which Guilt hath often tried +By numbers to o'erpower the better side. +Why tell me then that from the birth of Rhyme, +No matter when, down to the present time, 350 +As by the original decree of Fate, +Bards have protection sought amongst the great; +Conscious of weakness, have applied to them +As vines to elms, and, twining round their stem, +Flourish'd on high; to gain this wish'd support +E'en Virgil to Maecenas paid his court? +As to the custom, 'tis a point agreed, +But 'twas a foolish diffidence, not need, +From which it rose; had bards but truly known +That strength, which is most properly their own, 360 +Without a lord, unpropp'd they might have stood, +And overtopp'd those giants of the wood. + But why, when present times my care engage, +Must I go back to the Augustan age? +Why, anxious for the living, am I led +Into the mansions of the ancient dead? +Can they find patrons nowhere but at Rome, +And must I seek Maecenas in the tomb? +Name but a Wingate, twenty fools of note +Start up, and from report Maecenas quote; 370 +Under his colours lords are proud to fight, +Forgetting that Maecenas was a knight: +They mention him, as if to use his name +Was, in some measure, to partake his fame, +Though Virgil, was he living, in the street +Might rot for them, or perish in the Fleet. +See how they redden, and the charge disclaim-- +Virgil, and in the Fleet!--forbid it, Shame! +Hence, ye vain boasters! to the Fleet repair, +And ask, with blushes ask, if Lloyd is there! 380 + Patrons in days of yore were men of sense, +Were men of taste, and had a fair pretence +To rule in letters--some of them were heard +To read off-hand, and never spell a word; +Some of them, too, to such a monstrous height +Was learning risen, for themselves could write, +And kept their secretaries, as the great +Do many other foolish things, for state. + Our patrons are of quite a different strain, +With neither sense nor taste; against the grain 390 +They patronise for Fashion's sake--no more-- +And keep a bard, just as they keep a whore. +Melcombe (on such occasions I am loth +To name the dead) was a rare proof of both. +Some of them would be puzzled e'en to read, +Nor could deserve their clergy by their creed; +Others can write, but such a Pagan hand, +A Willes[320] should always at our elbow stand: +Many, if begg'd, a Chancellor,[321] of right, +Would order into keeping at first sight. 400 +Those who stand fairest to the public view +Take to themselves the praise to others due, +They rob the very spital, and make free +With those, alas! who've least to spare. We see +---- hath not had a word to say, +Since winds and waves bore Singlespeech[322] away. + Patrons, in days of yore, like patrons now, +Expected that the bard should make his bow +At coming in, and every now and then +Hint to the world that they were more than men; 410 +But, like the patrons of the present day, +They never bilk'd the poet of his pay. +Virgil loved rural ease, and, far from harm, +Maecenas fix'd him in a neat, snug farm, +Where he might, free from trouble, pass his days +In his own way, and pay his rent in praise. +Horace loved wine, and, through his friend at court, +Could buy it off the quay in every port: +Horace loved mirth, Maecenas loved it too; +They met, they laugh'd, as Goy[323] and I may do, 420 +Nor in those moments paid the least regard +To which was minister, and which was bard. + Not so our patrons--grave as grave can be, +They know themselves, they keep up dignity; +Bards are a forward race, nor is it fit +That men of fortune rank with men of wit: +Wit, if familiar made, will find her strength-- +'Tis best to keep her weak, and at arm's length. +'Tis well enough for bards, if patrons give, +From hand to mouth, the scanty means to live. 430 +Such is their language, and their practice such; +They promise little, and they give not much. +Let the weak bard, with prostituted strain, +Praise that proud Scot whom all good men disdain; +What's his reward? Why, his own fame undone, +He may obtain a patent for the run +Of his lord's kitchen, and have ample time, +With offal fed, to court the cook in rhyme; +Or (if he strives true patriots to disgrace) +May at the second table get a place; 440 +With somewhat greater slaves allow'd to dine, +And play at crambo o'er his gill of wine. + And are there bards, who, on creation's file, +Stand rank'd as men, who breathe in this fair isle +The air of freedom, with so little gall, +So low a spirit, prostrate thus to fall +Before these idols, and without a groan +Bear wrongs might call forth murmurs from a stone? +Better, and much more noble, to abjure +The sight of men, and in some cave, secure 450 +From all the outrages of Pride, to feast +On Nature's salads, and be free at least. +Better, (though that, to say the truth, is worse +Than almost any other modern curse) +Discard all sense, divorce the thankless Muse, +Critics commence, and write in the Reviews; +Write without tremor, Griffiths[324] cannot read; +No fool can fail, where Langhorne can succeed. + But (not to make a brave and honest pride +Try those means first, she must disdain when tried) 460 +There are a thousand ways, a thousand arts, +By which, and fairly, men of real parts +May gain a living, gain what Nature craves; +Let those, who pine for more, live, and be slaves. +Our real wants in a small compass lie, +But lawless appetite, with eager eye, +Kept in a constant fever, more requires, +And we are burnt up with our own desires. +Hence our dependence, hence our slavery springs; +Bards, if contented, are as great as kings. 470 +Ourselves are to ourselves the cause of ill; +We may be independent, if we will. +The man who suits his spirit to his state +Stands on an equal footing with the great; +Moguls themselves are not more rich, and he +Who rules the English nation, not more free. +Chains were not forged more durable and strong +For bards than others, but they've worn them long, +And therefore wear them still; they've quite forgot +What Freedom is, and therefore prize her not. 480 +Could they, though in their sleep, could they but know +The blessings which from Independence flow; +Could they but have a short and transient gleam +Of Liberty, though 'twas but in a dream, +They would no more in bondage bend their knee, +But, once made freemen, would be always free. +The Muse, if she one moment freedom gains, +Can nevermore submit to sing in chains. +Bred in a cage, far from the feather'd throng, +The bird repays his keeper with his song; 490 +But if some playful child sets wide the door, +Abroad he flies, and thinks of home no more, +With love of liberty begins to burn, +And rather starves than to his cage return. + Hail, Independence!--by true reason taught, +How few have known, and prized thee as they ought! +Some give thee up for riot; some, like boys, +Resign thee, in their childish moods, for toys; +Ambition some, some avarice, misleads, +And in both cases Independence bleeds. 500 +Abroad, in quest of thee, how many roam, +Nor know they had thee in their reach at home; +Some, though about their paths, their beds about, +Have never had the sense to find thee out: +Others, who know of what they are possess'd, +Like fearful misers, lock thee in a chest, +Nor have the resolution to produce, +In these bad times, and bring thee forth for use. +Hail, Independence!--though thy name's scarce known, +Though thou, alas! art out of fashion grown, 510 +Though all despise thee, I will not despise, +Nor live one moment longer than I prize +Thy presence, and enjoy: by angry Fate +Bow'd down, and almost crush'd, thou cam'st, though late, +Thou cam'st upon me, like a second birth, +And made me know what life was truly worth. +Hail, Independence!--never may my cot, +Till I forget thee, be by thee forgot: +Thither, oh! thither, oftentimes repair; +Cotes,[325] whom thou lovest too, shall meet thee there. 520 +All thoughts but what arise from joy give o'er, + Peace dwells within, and law shall guard the door. +O'erweening Bard! Law guard thy door! What law? +The law of England. To control and awe +Those saucy hopes, to strike that spirit dumb, +Behold, in state, Administration come! + Why, let her come, in all her terrors too; +I dare to suffer all she dares to do. +I know her malice well, and know her pride, +I know her strength, but will not change my side. 530 +This melting mass of flesh she may control +With iron ribs--she cannot chain my soul. +No--to the last resolved her worst to bear, +I'm still at large, and independent there. + Where is this minister? where is the band +Of ready slaves, who at his elbow stand +To hear, and to perform his wicked will? +Why, for the first time, are they slow to ill? +When some grand act 'gainst law is to be done, +Doth ---- sleep; doth blood-hound ---- run 540 +To L----, and worry those small deer, +When he might do more precious mischief here? +Doth Webb turn tail? doth he refuse to draw +Illegal warrants, and to call them law? +Doth ----, at Guildford kick'd, from Guildford run, +With that cold lump of unbaked dough, his son, +And, his more honest rival Ketch to cheat, +Purchase a burial-place where three ways meet? +Believe it not; ---- is ---- still, +And never sleeps, when he should wake to ill: 550 +---- doth lesser mischiefs by the by, +The great ones till the term in _petto_ lie: +---- lives, and, to the strictest justice true, +Scorns to defraud the hangman of his due. + O my poor Country!--weak, and overpower'd +By thine own sons--ate to the bone--devour'd +By vipers, which, in thine own entrails bred, +Prey on thy life, and with thy blood are fed, +With unavailing grief thy wrongs I see, +And, for myself not feeling, feel for thee. 560 +I grieve, but can't despair--for, lo! at hand +Freedom presents a choice, but faithful band +Of loyal patriots; men who greatly dare +In such a noble cause; men fit to bear +The weight of empires; Fortune, Rank, and Sense, +Virtue and Knowledge, leagued with Eloquence, +March in their ranks; Freedom from file to file +Darts her delighted eye, and with a smile +Approves her honest sons, whilst down her cheek, +As 'twere by stealth, (her heart too full to speak) 570 +One tear in silence creeps, one honest tear, +And seems to say, Why is not Granby[326] here?' + O ye brave few, in whom we still may find +A love of virtue, freedom, and mankind! +Go forth--in majesty of woe array'd, +See at your feet your Country kneels for aid, +And, (many of her children traitors grown) +Kneels to those sons she still can call her own; +Seeming to breathe her last in every breath, +She kneels for freedom, or she begs for death-- 580 +Fly, then, each duteous son, each English chief, +And to your drooping parent bring relief. +Go forth--nor let the siren voice of Ease +Tempt ye to sleep, whilst tempests swell the seas; +Go forth--nor let Hypocrisy, whose tongue +With many a fair, false, fatal art is hung, +Like Bethel's fawning prophet, cross your way, +When your great errand brooks not of delay; +Nor let vain Fear, who cries to all she meets, +Trembling and pale, 'A lion in the streets,' 590 +Damp your free spirits; let not threats affright, +Nor bribes corrupt, nor flatteries delight: +Be as one man--concord success ensures-- +There's not an English heart but what is yours. +Go forth--and Virtue, ever in your sight, +Shall be your guide by day, your guard by night-- +Go forth--the champions of your native land, +And may the battle prosper in your hand-- +It may, it must--ye cannot be withstood-- +Be your hearts honest, as your cause is good! 600 + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [310] 'B----:' Bute. + + [311] 'F----:' Fox. + + [312] 'Grafton:' see Junius, _passim_. + + [313] 'First:' Lyttelton. + + [314] 'Archibald:' Archibald Bower, the infamous author of 'Lives of + the Popes,' patronised at first by Lyttelton, but detected and + exposed by Dr Douglas. + + [315] 'Second:' Churchill himself. + + [316] 'Hogarth:' here satirically represented as dead, lived four weeks + after this poem was published, and died nine days before Churchill. + + [317] 'M----:' Melcombe. + + [318] 'Wingate:' the purse-proud upstarts of the day are here + designated by the generic name of Wingate, an eminent arithmetician, + who lived early in the seventeenth century. + + [319] 'Old Paul:' Paul Whitehead, a contemptible sycophant as well as + profligate. + + [320] 'Willes:' Dr Edward Willes, Bishop of Bath and Wells. + + [321] 'Chancellor:' the Lord High Chancellor is intrusted with the + custody of all idiots and lunatics. + + [322] 'Singlespeech:' the Right Honourable William Gerrard Hamilton. + See Boswell, who describes him as a man of great talent; others have + ascribed his single speech to the aid of Burke. + + [323] 'Goy:' M. Pierre Goy, a Frenchman of brilliant accomplishments. + + [324] 'Griffiths:' Ralph Griffiths, a bookseller, who, in 1749, + published the first number of the 'Monthly Review.' + + [325] 'Cotes:' Humphrey Cotes, a staunch supporter of Wilkes. + + [326] 'Granby:' the Marquis of Granby, in 1766, was appointed + Commander-in-Chief of all his Majesty's land forces in Great Britain. + See Junius. + + + + +THE JOURNEY.[327] + +Some of my friends (for friends I must suppose +All, who, not daring to appear my foes, +Feign great good will, and, not more full of spite +Than full of craft, under false colours fight), +Some of my friends (so lavishly I print), +As more in sorrow than in anger, hint +(Though that indeed will scarce admit a doubt) +That I shall run my stock of genius out, +My no great stock, and, publishing so fast, +Must needs become a bankrupt at the last. 10 + 'The husbandman, to spare a thankful soil, +Which, rich in disposition, pays his toil +More than a hundredfold, which swells his store +E'en to his wish, and makes his barns run o'er, +By long Experience taught, who teaches best, +Foregoes his hopes a while, and gives it rest: +The land, allow'd its losses to repair, +Refresh'd, and full in strength, delights to wear +A second youth, and to the farmer's eyes +Bids richer crops, and double harvests rise. 20 + 'Nor think this practice to the earth confined, +It reaches to the culture of the mind. +The mind of man craves rest, and cannot bear, +Though next in power to God's, continual care. +Genius himself (nor here let Genius frown) +Must, to ensure his vigour, be laid down, +And fallow'd well: had Churchill known but this, +Which the most slight observer scarce could miss, +He might have flourish'd twenty years or more, +Though now, alas! poor man! worn out in four.'[328] 30 + Recover'd from the vanity of youth, +I feel, alas! this melancholy truth, +Thanks to each cordial, each advising friend, +And am, if not too late, resolved to mend, +Resolved to give some respite to my pen, +Apply myself once more to books and men; +View what is present, what is past review, +And, my old stock exhausted, lay in new. +For twice six moons (let winds, turn'd porters, bear +This oath to Heaven), for twice six moons, I swear, 40 +No Muse shall tempt me with her siren lay, +Nor draw me from Improvement's thorny way. +Verse I abjure, nor will forgive that friend, +Who, in my hearing, shall a rhyme commend. + It cannot be--whether I will, or no, +Such as they are, my thoughts in measure flow. +Convinced, determined, I in prose begin, +But ere I write one sentence, verse creeps in, +And taints me through and through; by this good light, +In verse I talk by day, I dream by night! 50 +If now and then I curse, my curses chime, +Nor can I pray, unless I pray in rhyme. +E'en now I err, in spite of Common Sense, +And my confession doubles my offence. + Rest then, my friends;--spare, spare your precious breath, +And be your slumbers not less sound than death; +Perturbed spirits rest, nor thus appear, +To waste your counsels in a spendthrift's ear; +On your grave lessons I cannot subsist, +Nor even in verse become economist. 60 +Rest then, my friends; nor, hateful to my eyes, +Let Envy, in the shape of Pity, rise +To blast me ere my time; with patience wait, +('Tis no long interval) propitious Fate +Shall glut your pride, and every son of phlegm +Find ample room to censure and condemn. +Read some three hundred lines (no easy task, +_But probably the last that I shall ask_), +And give me up for ever; wait one hour, +Nay not so much, revenge is in your power, 70 +And ye may cry, ere Time hath turn'd his glass, +Lo! what we prophesied is come to pass. + Let those, who poetry in poems claim, +Or not read this, or only read to blame; +Let those who are by Fiction's charms enslaved, +Return me thanks for half-a-crown well saved; +Let those who love a little gall in rhyme +Postpone their purchase now, and call next time; +Let those who, void of Nature, look for Art, +Take up their money, and in peace depart; 80 +Let those who energy of diction prize, +For Billingsgate quit Flexney,[329] and be wise: +Here is no lie, no gall, no art, no force, +Mean are the words, and such as come of course; +The subject not less simple than the lay; +A plain, unlabour'd Journey of a Day. + Far from me now be every tuneful maid, +I neither ask, nor can receive their aid. +Pegasus turn'd into a common hack, +Alone I jog, and keep the beaten track, 90 +Nor would I have the Sisters of the hill +Behold their bard in such a dishabille. +Absent, but only absent for a time, +Let them caress some dearer son of Rhyme; +Let them, as far as decency permits, +Without suspicion, play the fool with wits, +'Gainst fools be guarded; 'tis a certain rule, +Wits are safe things; there's danger in a fool. + Let them, though modest, Gray more modest woo; +Let them with Mason bleat, and bray, and coo; 100 +Let them with Franklin,[330] proud of some small Greek, +Make Sophocles, disguised, in English speak; +Let them, with Glover,[331] o'er Medea doze; +Let them, with Dodsley, wail Cleone's[332] woes, +Whilst he, fine feeling creature, all in tears, +Melts as they melt, and weeps with weeping peers; +Let them, with simple Whitehead[333] taught to creep +Silent and soft, lay Fontenelle asleep; +Let them with Browne,[334] contrive, no vulgar trick, +To cure the dead, and make the living sick; 110 +Let them, in charity, to Murphy give +Some old French piece, that he may steal and live; +Let them with antic Foote, subscriptions get, +And advertise a summer-house of wit. + Thus, or in any better way they please, +With these great men, or with great men like these, +Let them their appetite for laughter feed; +I on my Journey all alone proceed. + If fashionable grown, and fond of power, +With humorous Scots let them disport their hour, 120 +Let them dance, fairy like, round Ossian's tomb; +Let them forge lies and histories for Hume; +Let them with Home, the very prince of verse, +Make something like a tragedy in Erse; +Under dark Allegory's flimsy veil, +Let them, with Ogilvie,[335] spin out a tale +Of rueful length; let them plain things obscure, +Debase what's truly rich, and what is poor +Make poorer still by jargon most uncouth; +With every pert, prim prettiness of youth, 130 +Born of false taste, with Fancy (like a child +Not knowing what it cries for) running wild, +With bloated style, by Affectation taught, +With much false colouring, and little thought, +With phrases strange, and dialect decreed +By Reason never to have pass'd the Tweed, +With words, which Nature meant each other's foe, +Forced to compound whether they will or no; +With such materials, let them, if they will, +To prove at once their pleasantry and skill, 140 +Build up a bard to war 'gainst Common Sense, +By way of compliment to Providence; +Let them, with Armstrong[336], taking leave of Sense, +Read musty lectures on Benevolence, +Or con the pages of his gaping Day, +Where all his former fame was thrown away, +Where all, but barren labour, was forgot, +And the vain stiffness of a letter'd Scot; +Let them, with Armstrong, pass the term of light, +But not one hour of darkness: when the night 150 +Suspends this mortal coil, when Memory wakes, +When for our past misdoings, Conscience takes +A deep revenge, when, by Reflection led, +She draws his curtains, and looks Comfort dead, +Let every Muse be gone; in vain he turns, +And tries to pray for sleep; an Aetna burns, +A more than Aetna, in his coward breast, +And Guilt, with vengeance arm'd, forbids him rest: +Though soft as plumage from young Zephyr's wing, +His couch seems hard, and no relief can bring; 160 +Ingratitude hath planted daggers there +No good man can deserve, no brave man bear. + Thus, or in any better way they please, +With these great men, or with great men like these, +Let them their appetite for laughter feed; +I on my Journey all alone proceed. + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [327] 'Journey:' a posthumous publication. + + [328] 'In four:' he did not complete the fourth. + + [329] 'Flexney.' the publisher of his poems. + + [330] 'Franklin:' Dr Franklin, author of a translation of Sophocles. + + [331] 'Glover:' Dr Glover in his tragedy of Medea. + + [332] 'Cleone:' a tragedy by Robert Dodsley. + + [333] 'Whitehead:' Whitehead dedicated his 'School for Lovers' to the + memory of Fontenelle. + + [334] 'Browne:' 'The Cure of Saul,' a sacred ode by Dr Browne, was set + to music. + + [335] 'Ogilvie:' John Ogilvie, A.M., was the author of 'Providence,' an + allegorical poem. + + [336] 'Armstrong:' Dr John Armstrong, author of that beautiful poem, + 'The Art of Preserving Health,' also of one entitled 'Day,' in which he + reflected on Churchill, who had been his friend. + + + + +DEDICATION + +To Churchill's Sermons. + + The manuscript of this unfinished poem was found among the few papers + Churchill left behind him. + +Health to great Glo'ster!--from a man unknown, +Who holds thy health as dearly as his own, +Accept this greeting--nor let modest fear +Call up one maiden blush--I mean not here +To wound with flattery; 'tis a villain's art, +And suits not with the frankness of my heart. +Truth best becomes an orthodox divine, +And, spite of Hell, that character is mine: +To speak e'en bitter truths I cannot fear; +But truth, my lord, is panegyric here. 10 + Health to great Glo'ster!--nor, through love of ease, +Which all priests love, let this address displease. +I ask no favour, not one _note_ I crave, +And when this busy brain rests in the grave, +(For till that time it never can have rest) +I will not trouble you with one bequest. +Some humbler friend, my mortal journey done, +More near in blood, a nephew or a son, +In that dread hour executor I'll leave, +For I, alas! have many to receive; 20 +To give, but little.--To great Glo'ster health! +Nor let thy true and proper love of wealth +Here take a false alarm--in purse though poor, +In spirit I'm right proud, nor can endure +The mention of a bribe--thy pocket's free: +I, though a dedicator, scorn a fee. +Let thy own offspring all thy fortunes share; +I would not Allen rob, nor Allen's heir. + Think not,--a thought unworthy thy great soul, +Which pomps of this world never could control, 30 +Which never offer'd up at Power's vain shrine,-- +Think not that pomp and power can work on mine. +'Tis not thy name, though that indeed is great, +'Tis not the tinsel trumpery of state, +'Tis not thy title, Doctor though thou art, +'Tis not thy mitre, which hath won my heart. +State is a farce; names are but empty things, +Degrees are bought, and, by mistaken kings, +Titles are oft misplaced; mitres, which shine +So bright in other eyes, are dull in mine, 40 +Unless set off by virtue; who deceives +Under the sacred sanction of lawn sleeves +Enhances guilt, commits a double sin; +So fair without, and yet so foul within. +'Tis not thy outward form, thy easy mien, +Thy sweet complacency, thy brow serene, +Thy open front, thy love-commanding eye, +Where fifty Cupids, as in ambush, lie, +Which can from sixty to sixteen impart +The force of Love, and point his blunted dart; 50 +'Tis not thy face, though that by Nature's made +An index to thy soul; though there display'd +We see thy mind at large, and through thy skin +Peeps out that courtesy which dwells within; +'Tis not thy birth, for that is low as mine, +Around our heads no lineal glories shine-- +But what is birth,--when, to delight mankind, +Heralds can make those arms they cannot find, +When thou art to thyself, thy sire unknown, +A whole Welsh genealogy alone? 60 +No; 'tis thy inward man, thy proper worth, +Thy right just estimation here on earth, +Thy life and doctrine uniformly join'd, +And flowing from that wholesome source, thy mind; +Thy known contempt of Persecution's rod, +Thy charity for man, thy love of God, +Thy faith in Christ, so well approved 'mongst men, +Which now give life and utterance to my pen. +Thy virtue, not thy rank, demands my lays; +'Tis not the Bishop, but the Saint, I praise: 70 +Raised by that theme, I soar on wings more strong, +And burst forth into praise withheld too long. + Much did I wish, e'en whilst I kept those sheep +Which, for my curse, I was ordain'd to keep,-- +Ordain'd, alas! to keep, through need, not choice, +Those sheep which never heard their shepherd's voice, +Which did not know, yet would not learn their way, +Which stray'd themselves, yet grieved that I should stray; +Those sheep which my good father (on his bier +Let filial duty drop the pious tear) 80 +Kept well, yet starved himself, e'en at that time +Whilst I was pure and innocent of rhyme, +Whilst, sacred Dulness ever in my view, +Sleep at my bidding crept from pew to pew,-- +Much did I wish, though little could I hope, +A friend in him who was the friend of Pope. + His hand, said I, my youthful steps shall guide, +And lead me safe where thousands fall beside; +His temper, his experience, shall control, +And hush to peace the tempest of my soul; 90 +His judgment teach me, from the critic school, +How not to err, and how to err by rule; +Instruct me, mingle profit with delight, +Where Pope was wrong, where Shakspeare was not right; +Where they are justly praised, and where, through whim, +How little's due to them, how much to him. +Raised 'bove the slavery of common rules, +Of common-sense, of modern, ancient schools, +Those feelings banish'd which mislead us all, +Fools as we are, and which we Nature call, 100 +He by his great example might impart +A better something, and baptize it Art; +He, all the feelings of my youth forgot, +Might show me what is taste by what is not; +By him supported, with a proper pride, +I might hold all mankind as fools beside; +He (should a world, perverse and peevish grown, +Explode his maxims and assert their own) +Might teach me, like himself, to be content, +And let their folly be their punishment; 110 +Might, like himself, teach his adopted son, +'Gainst all the world, to quote a Warburton. + Fool that I was! could I so much deceive +My soul with lying hopes? could I believe +That he, the servant of his Maker sworn, +The servant of his Saviour, would be torn +From their embrace, and leave that dear employ, +The cure of souls, his duty and his joy, +For toys like mine, and waste his precious time, +On which so much depended, for a rhyme? 120 +Should he forsake the task he undertook, +Desert his flock, and break his pastoral crook? +Should he (forbid it, Heaven!) so high in place, +So rich in knowledge, quit the work of grace, +And, idly wandering o'er the Muses' hill, +Let the salvation of mankind stand still? + Far, far be that from thee--yes, far from thee +Be such revolt from grace, and far from me +The will to think it--guilt is in the thought-- +Not so, not so, hath Warburton been taught, 130 +Not so learn'd Christ. Recall that day, well known, +When (to maintain God's honour, and his own) +He call'd blasphemers forth; methinks I now +See stern Rebuke enthroned on his brow, +And arm'd with tenfold terrors--from his tongue, +Where fiery zeal and Christian fury hung, +Methinks I hear the deep-toned thunders roll, +And chill with horror every sinner's soul, +In vain they strive to fly--flight cannot save. +And Potter trembles even in his grave-- 140 +With all the conscious pride of innocence, +Methinks I hear him, in his own defence, +Bear witness to himself, whilst all men knew, +By gospel rules his witness to be true. + O glorious man! thy zeal I must commend, +Though it deprived me of my dearest friend; +The real motives of thy anger known, +Wilkes must the justice of that anger own; +And, could thy bosom have been bared to view, +Pitied himself, in turn had pitied you. 150 +Bred to the law, you wisely took the gown, +Which I, like Demas, foolishly laid down; +Hence double strength our Holy Mother drew, +Me she got rid of, and made prize of you. +I, like an idle truant fond of play, +Doting on toys, and throwing gems away, +Grasping at shadows, let the substance slip; +But you, my lord, renounced attorneyship +With better purpose, and more noble aim, +And wisely played a more substantial game: 160 +Nor did Law mourn, bless'd in her younger son, +For Mansfield does what Glo'ster would have done. + Doctor! Dean! Bishop! Glo'ster! and My Lord! +If haply these high titles may accord +With thy meek spirit; if the barren sound +Of pride delights thee, to the topmost round +Of Fortune's ladder got, despise not one +For want of smooth hypocrisy undone, +Who, far below, turns up his wondering eye, +And, without envy, sees thee placed so high: 170 +Let not thy brain (as brains less potent might) +Dizzy, confounded, giddy with the height, +Turn round, and lose distinction, lose her skill +And wonted powers of knowing good from ill, +Of sifting truth from falsehood, friends from foes; +Let Glo'ster well remember how he rose, +Nor turn his back on men who made him great; +Let him not, gorged with power, and drunk with state, +Forget what once he was, though now so high, +How low, how mean, and full as poor as I. 180 + + * * * * * + +_Caetera desunt_. + + * * * * * + + +LINES WRITTEN IN WINDSOR PARK. + + These verses appeared with Churchill's name to them in the London + Magazine for 1763, and there is no reason to doubt their being + genuine. + +When Pope to Satire gave its lawful way, +And made the Nimrods of Mankind his prey; +When haughty Windsor heard through every wood +Their shame, who durst be great, yet not be good; +Who, drunk with power, and with ambition blind, +Slaves to themselves, and monsters to mankind, +Sinking the man, to magnify the prince, +Were heretofore, what Stuarts have been since: +Could he have look'd into the womb of Time, +How might his spirit in prophetic rhyme, 10 +Inspired by virtue, and for freedom bold, +Matters of different import have foretold! +How might his Muse, if any Muse's tongue +Could equal such an argument, have sung +One William,[337] who makes all mankind his care, +And shines the saviour of his country there! +One William, who to every heart gives law; +The son of George, the image of Nassau! + + * * * * * + +Footnotes: + + [337] 'William:' Duke of Cumberland--the Whig hero. + + + + * * * * * + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poetical Works, by Charles Churchill + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETICAL WORKS *** + +This file should be named 8592-8.txt or 8592-8.zip + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Thomas Berger, +and the Distributed Proofreaders Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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