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ther led him to another model. Nor was his temper less unlike that of Horace, than his talents. What Horace would only smile at, Mr. Pope would treat with the grave severity of Persius : and what Mr. Pope would strike with the caustic lightning of Juvenal, Horace would content himself in turning into ridicule.

If it be asked then, why he took any body at all to imitate, he has informed us in his Advertisement to which we may add, that this sort of Imitations, which are of the nature of Parodies, adds reflected grace and Iplendor on original wit. Besides, he deemed it more modest to give the name of Imitations to his Satires, than, like Despreaux, to give the name of Satires to Imitations,

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P.THERE are (I scarce can think it, but an told)

There are, to whom my Satire seems too bold
Scarce to wife Peter complaisant enough,
And something said of Chartres * much too rough.
The lines are weak, another's pleas'd to say,
Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day.
Tim'rous by nature, of the rich in awe,
I come to council learned in the law :
You'll give me, like a friend both sage and free,
Advice ; and (as you use) without a fee.
F. I'd write no more.

P. Not write? but then I think,
And for my soul I cannot sleep a wink.
Į nod in company, I wake at night,
Fools rush into my head, and so I write.

F. You could not do a worse thing for your life. 15
Why, if the nights seem tedious-take a wife :
Or rather truly, if your point be rest,
Lettuce and cowslip wine ; probatum eft.
But talk with Celfus, Celfus will advise
Hartshorn, or something that shall close your eyes.

* It has been commonly observed of the English, thať a rogue never goes to the gallows without the pily of the speciators, and their parting curses on the rigour of the laws that brought them thither : and this has been as commonly ascribed to the good nature of the p ople. But it is a mistake. The frue cause is their hatred and envy of power. Their compassion for dunces and scoundrels (when exposed by great writers to public contempt, either in justice to the age, or in vindication of their own charaflers) has the same source. They cover their envy to a superior genius, in lamenting the feve. riiy of his pen.

D 2

Or, 30

Or, if you needs must write, write Cesar's praise,
You'll gain at least a Knighthood, or the Bays.
P. What? like Sir Richard *, rumbling, rough, and

fierce, With ARMs and GEORGE and BRUNSWICK crowd the

Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder, 25
With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss and thunder? .
Or nobly wild, with Budgel's fire and force,
Paint angels trembling round his falling horse ? +

F. Then all your Muse's softer art display,
Let CAROLINA smooth the tuneful lay,
Lull with AMELIA's liquid name the nine,
And sweetly flow thro' all the royal line.

P. Alas! few verses touch their nicer ear;
They scarce can bear their Laureate twice a year;
And juftly CÆSAR scorns the poet's lays,

35 It is to History he trufts for praise.

F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it ftill, Than ridicule all taste, blafpheme quadrille, Abuse the city's best good men in metre, And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter. 40 Ev’n those you touch not, hate you.

P. What should ail them? F. A hundred smart in Timon and in Balaam : The fewer still you name, you wound the more ; Bond is but one, but Harpax is a score.

* Mr. Molyneux, a great mathematician and philofopher, had a high opinion of Sir Richard Blackmore's poetic vein. “ All our English poets, “ except Milton (says he, in a letter to Mr. Locke) have been mere ballad. “ makers in comparison of him." And Mr. Locke, in answer to this obser: vation, replies, “ I find with pleasure, a strange harmony throughout, be“tween your thoughts and mine." just fo a Roman lawyer, and a Greck historian thought of the poetry of Cicero. But these being judgments mad: by men out of their own profession, are little regarded. And Pope and Juvenal will make Blackmore and Tully pass for poetasters to the world's end.

+ The horfe on which his majesty charged at the bartle of Oudenard ; when the Pretender, and the princes of the blood of France, fied before him. 5

P. Each

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P. Each mortal has his pleasure : none deny.
Scarsdale his bottle, Darty his ham-pye;
Ridotta sips and dances, till she fee
The doubling lustres dance as fast as she;
F~ loves the senate, Hockleyhole his brother,
Like in all else, as one egg to another.
I love to pour out all mytelf, as plain
As downright SHIPPEN, or as old Montagne *.
In them, as certain to be lov'd as seen,
The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought within;
In me what spots (for spots I have) appear,
Will prove at least the medium must be clear.
In this impartial glass, my Muse attends
Fair to expose myself, my foes, my friends;
Publish the present age ; but where my text
Is vice too high, reserve it for the next :
My foes shall wish my life a longer date,
And ev'ry friend the less lament my fate.
My head and heart thus flowing thro' my quill,
Verfeinan or Proseman, term me which you will,
Papift or Protestant, or both between,
Like good Erasmus in an honest mean,
In moderation placing all my glory,
While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet;
I only wear it in a land of hectors,
Thieves, + fupercargoes, sharpers and directors.
Save but our army! and let Jove incrust
Swords, pikes, and guns, with everlasting ruft !



They had this, indeed, in common, to use great liberties of speech, and lo profess faying what they thought. Montagne had many qualities, that had gained him the love and esteem of his readers: the other had one, which always gained him the favourable attention of his hearers. For as a celebra · ted Roman orator observes, 's Maledicit INERUDITUS apertius et fæpius,

cum periculo etiam fuo. Affert et ista res OPINIONEM, quia libentissimo “ homines audiunt ea quæ dicere ipsi noluissent."

+ The names, at that time, usually bestowed on those whořn the trading companies fent with their ships, and entrusted with their concerns abroad.

Peace C


Peace is my dear delight-not FLEURY's more : 75
But touch me, and no minister so fore.
Whoe'er offends, at some unlucky time :
Slides into verse, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the sad burthen of some merry fong.

Slander or poison dread from Delia's rage,
Hard words or hanging, if your judge be Page.
From furious Sappho scarce a milder fate,
P-x'd by her love, or libell’d by her hate.
Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels;
Bulls aim their horns, and asses lift their heels;
'Tis a bear's talent not to kick, but hug;
And no man wonders he's not ftung by pug.
So drink with Valters, or with Chartres eat,
They'll never poi lon you, they'll only cheat. 90

Then, learned Sir! (to cut the matter short)
Whate'er my fate, well or ill at Court,
Whether old age, with faint but chearful ray,
Attends to gild the ev’ning of my day,
Or Death’s black wing already be display'd,
To wrap ine in the universal 1hade;
Whether the darken'd room to muse invite,
Or whiten'd wall provoke the skew'r to write :
In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint,
Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print. ico..

F. Alas young man! your days can ne'er be long,
In flow'r of age you perifh for a long !
Plums and directors, Shylock and his wife,
Will club their testers, now, to take your life!

P. What? arm’d for virtue when I point the pen, 195
Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men:
Dash the proud gamefter in his gilded car ;
Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a far;
Çan there be wanting, to defend her cause,
Lights of the church, or guardians of the laws?
Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain
Flatt'rers and bigots ev’n in Louis' reign ?




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