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 i
 
 MISCELLANIES 
 
 i 
 PROSE AND VERSE; 
 
 INCLUDING REMARKS ON 
 
 ENGLISH PLAYS, OPERAS, AND FARCES, 
 
 And on a Variety of other 
 
 MODERN PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 BY THE HONOURABLE LORD GARDENSTONE. 
 
 DOLCE EST DESIPERE IN LOCO. 
 THE SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 EDINBURGH: 
 
 PRINTED BY J. ROBERTSON, SOUTH BRIDGE-STREET. 
 MOOCXCZIi
 
 PREFACE. 
 ^ 
 
 1 HE Remarks on Englifh Plays, and thofe 
 
 other Remarks on Modern Publications which 
 are printed next after them, in this volume, 
 aretranfcribed from the library of the Honour- 
 able Lord Gardenftone, kept open for the 
 amufemerit of Travellers, at the Inn of his 
 village of Laurencekirk. It is his Lordmip's 
 practice to infert his Critical Obfervations on 
 the margins of the refpective books, and to 
 interline with his pen fome of the moft re- 
 markable pafiages. This explanation may 
 be neceflary, to enable the reader to under- 
 ftand fome of his Lordfhip's exprefiions which 
 refer to thefe circumflances. 
 
 The firft Edition of this Mifcellany was not 
 intended for Sale ; but a fecond having been 
 defired by the Public, the Editor has exerted 
 his attention to render it as correcT; as poffi- 
 ble. A variety of Articles have likewife been 
 added, which are, perhaps, not unworthy of 
 prefervation. 
 
 EDINBURGH, January i.'~) 
 
 1792. 3 
 
 A ii.
 
 POETICAL ESSAYS. 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY: 
 
 IN days of old, as ancient poets fing, 
 
 There reignM in Greece, a certain jealous king; 
 
 Who, lead her bloom a lover mould deflower, 
 
 Shut up his daughter in a lonefome tower. 
 
 The walls were lofty, and the gate was ftrong, 
 
 There pin'd the poor young lady all day long. 
 
 No more in balls our princefs led the van, 
 
 With each warm glance to fire the outward man ; 
 
 Nor in her chariot rollM about the town, 
 
 To cheapen lace, and mow the laft new gown; 
 
 No fcandal heard, no captive fwain might fee, 
 
 No foul to {hare her folitary tea. 
 
 Herfelf as fair a girl as could be fcen, 
 
 Was not a fecond lefs than fweet feventcen. 
 
 And well you may fuppofe, that fuch a cage, 
 
 Agreed but badly with her amorous age; 
 
 She fondly fancied, that fuperior charms 
 
 Would_bring fome fearlefs rover to her arms; 
 
 And, as all maidens in the faihion bred, 
 
 Think every hour five hundred, till they're weds 
 
 So me, reluctant, bore the lofs of time, 
 
 And faw her beauty languish in the prime. 
 
 She panted for the height of human blifs, 
 
 To pour her tranfports in a balmy kifs; 
 
 And that fublimer joy we blufli to name, 
 
 Which vat^juiftiM virgins feel the victor claim. 
 
 A wicked dream would likewife now and then, 
 
 Remind her females were but made for men. 
 
 Thus, nor awake, nor -torturM into fleep, 
 
 Could mournful Mifs forbear to wifti and weep ;
 
 6 THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY. 
 
 The fruit was ripe, but there appear'd no hand 
 To crop the harveft of her promisM land. 
 "No fond aflailant dar'd provoke his fate, 
 All night nine mafliffs howl'd before the gate; 
 Through the long day fhe fa\v the king alone, 
 Who lov'd, admired, and plagu'd her as his own. 
 .For, .as our parents in the prefent days 
 Hear with difdain what honefl nature fays, 
 Spurn from the heart what manly feeling fprings, 
 And but inquire what cam the fellow brings; 
 So this wife prince no proffer would content ; 
 He claim'd a father's title to torment. 
 
 But Venus foon, that Nymph who rules the ikies, 
 Roll'd on the dungeon her indignant eyes; 
 And firft her lovely cheeks were fluuYd with red, 
 As when poor Mars and fhe lay (hackled on her bedj 
 A cuckold's vengeance Vulcan chofe to boafl, 
 And laughter fhook the pleas'd celeftial 'hoft. 
 Then thus her filence to her fire fhe broke, 
 The Monarch's pulfe beat harder while fhe fpoke. 
 
 u What horrid doings in the world below ! 
 " What blefl rewards on beauty to beflowl 
 *' Forgive me, dear Papa; who would not wail, 
 u A buxom virgin buried in a jail. 
 u Go ! if your thunder has not flunnM your brains, 
 " If yet one fpark of fire invigorates your veins, 
 " For injur'd innocence your pity prove, 
 u And florm, at once, yon fweet recefs of love." 
 
 'Twas thus her will, the wanton Queen exprefs'd ; 
 And Jove rejoic'd at fuch a filthy jefl. 
 His throne deferting down the fkies he flew, 
 But near the prifon, when the Thunderer drew, 
 His fhape he alter'd, as the flory's told, 
 And through the roof fhot in a mower of gold. 
 Yet foon his form refum'd; and (flraoge to tell!) 
 Her royal highnefs bore her wrongs fo well ; 
 With fuch intrepid patience Hopeful prefl, 
 Juno's chafte huiband to her generous breaflj
 
 THE PROGRESS OF VIRGINITY. 7 
 
 That old Squire Padlock found himfelf beguil'd, 
 And fa\v, full foon, his pretty maid with child. 
 
 Here let us paufc; and in a moral fcale, 
 Survey the merit of this famous tale. 
 Whoe'er would rob a woman of her will, 
 Muft, foon or late fucceed but very ill. 
 Their native cunning, the fly fex refines, 
 And fate, we fee, will fecond their defigns. 
 Are love's advances with negledl repaid? 
 The frozen Dotard mufl be difobey'd : 
 He fawns, he lectures, and he bolts in vain; 
 Infulted nature burfts the tyrant's chain. 
 A thoufand furies fire his frantic fpoufe; 
 A thoufand horns are fprouting on his brows. 
 
 By Jove's device, the Mufe would make it known, 
 That gold, like hunger, breaks through walls of ftonc. 
 Nay, furly failors foften at the light ; 
 And every foldier fwears you party right; 
 And like a man of honour, fpills his blood, 
 While one poor farthing in an hour's allow'd. 
 So when the Sage of Macedon affail'd 
 The citadels of Greece, he thus prevailed: 
 And fire and fword but feldom forc'd his way; 
 For Plutus, more politely, turn'd the key. 
 Thus, in the boufe, when orators contend, 
 A place, or penfion, makes each patriot bend. 
 For gold, the father proflitutes his fon;* 
 And the pimp hufband fees his fpoufe undone. 
 For gold, the judge decides, the felon fwings, 
 The parfon chatters, and the laureate fings. 
 
 * See for example, the ftory of Old Nightingale, in the novel 
 of Tom Jones.
 
 C 8 ] 
 PECULIAR DISADVANTAGES 
 
 OF 
 
 A MODERN POET. 
 
 IF a rafli rhymer honeflly intends 
 
 To re&ify the follies of his friends, 
 
 Lamenting loudly, as each former bard, 
 
 For ninety generations has declar'd, 
 
 " That flill, in fpite of parfons and their rules, 
 
 " Nine-tenths of all mankind are knaves and fools; 
 
 " Nay, that the beft of us, at times, are willing 
 
 " To let our father flarve, and fave a milling;" 
 
 He finds his virtuous efforts are in vain, 
 
 " The Beaft of Reafon" hears him with difdain : 
 
 The vulgar gape, the learn'd, like Shakefpeare's fool, 
 
 Profefs themfelves too old to go to fchool: 
 
 The clergy love no fermons but their own; 
 
 Each crabbed pedant pants to pull him down ; 
 
 Each puppy curfes the contemptuous dog ; 
 
 And every fwindler fwears that he's a rogue. 
 
 But, viewing matters on the other fide, 
 What mall be gain'd by fawning upon pride? 
 On panegyric, if he turns his head, 
 The loweft of all beggars lies for bread; 
 And every body knows he wants a hire, 
 And every living mortal fcorns a liar. 
 Sir Bob his bounty for his bawd referves, 
 The lacquey fattens, but the laureate ftarves. 
 
 Add, that the dull, the bufy, and the great, 
 With boundlefs ridicule your labours treat; 
 For almoft nobody has tafle, or time, 
 To feel and cultivate the fweets of rhyme. 
 The do&or muft trepan, diffet, and bleed; 
 The prieft has work enough to prop his creed; 
 And, while our reafon and our faith debate, 
 To paint a heretic's tremenduous fate.
 
 DISADVANTAGES OF A MODERN POET. $ 
 
 The lawyer wrangles in defence of knaves ; 
 
 For ftallions, girls, and port, the Game Law Jufticc raves 5 
 
 Merchants, if men f fenfe, mind only trade ; 
 
 Enfigns would always flrut on the parade: 
 
 And which of thefe d'ye thjnk will condefcend 
 
 To hear the fineft verfe that e'er was penn'd? 
 
 Such rank ftupidity we fcarce need mourn, 
 
 Since every clafs are ufeful in their turn. 
 
 And who would reap the corn, or mend the roads, 
 
 Were all intent on Tragedies and Odes ? 
 
 How rare the man an office who has fill'd, 
 
 At once in tactics and in metre fkill'd: 
 
 Nay, of the learn'd themfelves, but very few 
 
 That lonely calm Elyfian path purfue. 
 
 In ancient days, when Science was confin'd, 
 
 Philofophers had little elfe to mind ; 
 
 Then, every fwain the fall of Jlion fung, 
 
 And Sappho flow'd from every fchool-boy's tongue. 
 
 But now, the properties of putrid air, 
 
 Some pointers itch, the genius of a hare,* 
 
 A rufty coin, a cockle-fhell, a mite, 
 
 Provoke the fage to wonder and to write. 
 
 While fome with air balloons amufe the mob, 
 
 Some fail in fearch of rufhes round the globe, f 
 
 Compute both age, and tonnage of the earth, 
 
 What tadpole cholic gave your feetus birth, 
 
 Teach cannoneers to level, and to load, 
 
 Obferve a planet, or diffeft a toad; 
 
 Tell the velocities of found and light, 
 
 Or preach that fradlur'd limbs are firm and rigkt; 
 
 Or, draining mental and material fight, 
 
 * There is an eflay on this fubje& in the Gentleman's Magazine. 
 
 f- What rational purpofe can be anfwered by a HORTVS sic 
 cus? The plan of Captain Bligh's voyage was fuggefted thirty 
 years ago by Voltaire.
 
 IO DISADVANTAGES OF A MODERN POET. 
 
 Defcry a fhip five hundred leagues from land, * 
 And prove the Day of Judgment juft at hand, t 
 
 Nay, what is worft of all, the very men 
 Who really feel the beauties of the -pe-n, 
 Whofe tafte, in juftice, ought to be preferr'dy 
 Who foar in fentiments above the herd. 
 Who love your verfcs better than your wine, 
 And read with more attention than they dine, 
 None, but the fool who trufls them, can believe 
 Of thefe, what numbers at his progrefs grieve? 
 And fhould fuccefs await upon your lays, 
 They dare not cenfure, but they 'will not praife; 
 With all an eunuch's melancholy fpite, 
 They growl at you, becaufe they cannot write: 
 A gloomy filence, envy's pang imparts, 
 Or fome cold hint betrays their canker'd hearts. 
 41 A fellow wanting food mould huftband time, 
 " His idlenefs is more than half a crime; 
 " Bards, in all ages, have been very poor, 
 " And fome now famous beg from door to door :- 
 '' The jingling tribe are juftly reckon'd fools, 
 " Who never will attend to Reafon's rules. 
 " And why mould vagabonds in quefl of bread, 
 " Attempt to rhyme, to reafon, or to read." 
 Such are the crumbs of comfort they bellow, 
 And fuch the kindnefs you to critics owe. 
 But one erroneous accent let them fpy, 
 Then exultation fparkles in each eye ; 
 And if an in for into has been us'd, 
 Of downright fcorn of grammar you're accus'd. 
 Sailors, when ftarving, deal their beer and grog, 
 And rogues have dy'd to help a brother rogue : 
 A porter with diftrefs will mare his" pay, 
 And for the parifh poor, poor aclors play: 
 
 * The honour of this difcovery, real or pretended, has been 
 lately claimed by a Frenchman. 
 
 f Whifton " lived long enough to fee TWO completions of hi* 
 
 own Millenium." OBSERVER, No. 36.
 
 ON GOOD NATURE. 
 
 Thefe may, 'tis always pofTible, do good, 
 Nofpeculaticn petrifies their blood. 
 But would a fixpence free you from the jail, 
 To hazard that makes lettered friendmip fail. 
 
 On every fide difficulties confpire, 
 Be wife and throw your verfes in the fire. 
 
 ON GOOD NATURE. 
 
 THAT man has learn'd the wifeft way to live, 
 Who can with pleafure injuries forgive. 
 To plot for vengeance, brings inceffant woe, 
 For each half-friend becomes a ferious foe. 
 And fince ourfelves fo frequently miftake ; 
 Why wonder at thofe errors others make. 
 
 Such is the in-born bafenefs of mankind, 
 A grateful heart we feldom hope to find ; 
 But for revenge, the paffion is fo flrong, 
 Not one in fifty would forgive a wrong. 
 Chance but to Humble on his gouty toe, 
 With honour's champion to the field you go, 
 And mould your fortune when u the heroes join," 
 Bury a piftcl bullet in his groin ; 
 Then, while a tertian gives him time to cool, 
 He fees, but dares not own, he was a fool. 
 
 Endeavour, if you can, to be fedate ; 
 And fhun the mad extremes of love and hate : 
 Ccnfure, or praiie, be cautious to proclaim, 
 Fcr all the iicr/d are wore than balftbejame: 
 Scarce can .their virtues your efleem engage, 
 Far lefs their vices vindicate your rage. 
 Vie 11 / them ycu may, no doubt, with honeft fcorn, 
 And wonder why fueh bedlamites were born. 
 Hut never of yourielf, ab.urdly vaunt; 
 The weakefl feel fume excellence you want. 
 
 In no man's quai rel take an active part ; 
 Eiit hide, if wife, the venom cf your heart.
 
 12 ON GOOD NATURE. 
 
 For when the mighty buflle has blown o'er, 
 Thofe you defended, thank your zeal no more. 
 Like Paul and Peter, quondam friends may fight, 
 And the worft foes, like North and Fox unite. 
 
 Let this grand maxim in your minds be fix'd, 
 All mortal chara&ers are oddly mix'd ; 
 The wifefl men have many a foolim thought, 
 The dulleft dunce ads often as he ought: 
 Thus, Job himfelf was peevifh for a time, 
 And Nero reign'd five years without a crime. 
 The honeft Cato fometimes drank too late, 
 And Caefar fhed one tear for Pompey's fate. 
 Since then the heart is feldom long the fame, 
 T Tis but a phantom you can praife or blame. 
 
 Parolles ftvears yo,ur verfes are divine; 
 And all the Mufes melt in every line ; 
 44 Swift if alive, his fading fame would mourn, 
 " And blufh for Gulliver, at every turn." 
 To-morrow, not one ftauza can be read, 
 Parolles grins, and hums, and fhakes his head; s 
 Cants o'er fome axiom every fchool-boy knows, 
 And next commences critic on your clothes. 
 But in the flreet, while trifling thus you fland, 
 Should fome fupcrior frankly fqueeze your hand, 
 At once good humour glows in every rein, 
 And all he fpurn'd is excellent again. 
 
 In this infipid worthlefs thing you trace. 
 The tqfle of almoft all the human race; 
 Then let your calm difdain in filence die, 
 Is ferious vengeance vented on a fly ? 
 
 Pvemark yon maftifFbayM at by a cur, 
 The generous brute difdains but to demur; 
 Yet fhould the haplefs mifcreant fnarl at you, 
 "What fcolding, kicking, yelping, would enlue. 
 Your dog, before you venture to defpife, 
 Vain man 1 be half as worthy, and as wife. 
 
 If, e'er as author, you pretend to fame, 
 All private pique, be patient, and difclaim ;
 
 JT7PITER AND THE FROGS. jo 
 
 Were men of rhyme above unhappy fpite, 
 Perhaps Pope's Dunciad had not feen the light. 
 
 Thus, while a Sage his eloquence difplay'd, 
 Rappee fell fhort, his fnuffbox was miflaid ; 
 Around the Club he caft an eager eye, 
 But net one pupil could a pinch fupply. 
 The preacher's face contracted in a gloom, 
 A hearty curfe refounded through the room ; 
 His fpoufe on Patience claim'd her turn to plead, 
 And Seneca was hurled at her head. 
 
 JUPITER AND THE FROGS: 
 
 JQsop afliires us, that of old the Frogs 
 Were fo vain glorious of their bogs, 
 
 'Twas their opinion, 
 They could be happy with a prince alone, 
 A Hero from the tadpole throne, 
 
 To fpread dominion. 
 
 Two orators the loyalifts ele&ed, 
 To make their plea by Jove refpeded, 
 
 Or heard at leaft ; 
 
 Both hopping up a turf eight inches high, 
 Leveird their nofes at the flcy, 
 
 Jove fmok'dthe jeft. 
 
 The thundering forme ator took a ftool, 
 (He was with Juno's leave no fool) 
 
 And whirl'd it down ; 
 The plenipoes prefum'd it was the devil- 
 It pcpt with fuch a fquafh uncivil 
 
 On each bald crown. 
 
 B
 
 14 ALL S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 
 
 That morning the Dutch nightingales lay quiet, 
 Till one, impatient for a riot, 
 
 Thruft forth his fnout, 
 Survey'd his Majefly in all directions,. 
 Made, like a Frog of fenfe, reflexions, 
 
 And raised the rout. 
 
 Their monarch now the hopeful tribe afcends ; 
 My readers know what namelefs ends 
 
 AJlool may ferve. 
 
 But Jove, to pepper them, a Crane difpatch'd, 
 Who dozens at a morfel fnatclVd ; 
 
 Through every nerve, 
 
 The croaking fugitives with terror fliook; 
 Repentance burn'd in every look ; 
 
 " Friends I" cry'd a Frog, 
 4t Jove was, for fuch a forry trick, our debtor, 
 " We might have all behav'd much better 
 
 " To poor King Log." 
 
 ALL's WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 
 
 SOME fage philofophers of old 
 Were vain to undervalue gold, 
 Alleging, that the learned rules, 
 So loudly chatter'd in their fchools, 
 Abundant pleafure could fupply, 
 And teach us how to live and die. 
 
 To die is nothing ; Are you fad? 
 A halter always may be had. 
 But the grand point at which we drive, 
 Is how to keep ourfelves alive, 
 When all the bittcrnefs of fcorn, 
 And cold, and hunger, muft be borne. 
 
 And what are virtue, fame, and health, 
 Without the fovereign aid of wealth ?
 
 ALL S WELL THAT EXDS WELt. 
 
 Keen appetite avails but little, 
 
 Unlefs the purfe can purchafe " vittle*." 
 
 What fignifies a handfome form 
 
 If undefended from the ftorm? 
 
 And will a taylor now a days, 
 
 Rig out a rhymer for his lays? 
 
 He tires, alas ! to hear us read, 
 
 And murmurs but to break a thread. 
 
 Then mind not what the pedants fay, 
 But aEl with as much phlegm as they. 
 Nor pamper up the parifh poor, 
 But fweep the vermin from your door; 
 Nor borrow with a view to lend, 
 Nor pawn your breeches for a friend : 
 But if to pay your claim he lingers, 
 Wrench the laft farthing from his fingers : 
 And mould that generous effort fail, 
 Be fure to fend the rogue to jail. 
 There let him rot, and ftarve to death, 
 Nor quit him till his dying breath: 
 And when his yelping fpoufe appears, 
 With all her tatter'd flock in tears, 
 To prove " Were hell demoliih'd, now, 
 " Another muft be had for you ; 
 " That Providence were falfely nam'd, 
 " If fuch a monfter is not damnM;" 
 To this ungrateful, faucy ftyle, 
 Reply with a contemptuous fmile; 
 Nor let remorfe your bofom rack, 
 But plug your ears, and turn your back. 
 The boys will pelt the crazy jade, 
 Their mothers wonder why {he's mad; 
 And fome fage adlive Juflice fend her 
 To Bridewell, as an old offender. 
 
 SWIFT.
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 WHENEVER he, who fince the world began., 
 Has felt for all the miferies of man; 
 Who Felly's mean fufpicions to remove, 
 Requefh us to remember HE is LOVE ; 
 Who guides all nature to a noble end, 
 By ways our weaknefs cannot comprehend; 
 When from the tirefome feene of trifling here, 
 He takes his fav'rites to a higher fphere, 
 While the freed fpirit leaves her load of clay, 
 And wonders we behind fubmit to Hay, 
 The feelings of falfe pity are obey'd, 
 And mortals mourn for thofe they call the dead. 
 
 How many Ledlures have we heard in vain? 
 But truths negle&ed, mufl be told again : 
 Stupidity itfelf can fcarce forget 
 That death is an inevitable debt ; 
 
 That too much pleafure mufl itfelf deflroy ; 
 That fomething flill is wanting in our joy ; 
 
 That modefl Merit rarely meets her due ; 
 
 That happinefs recedes as we purfue ; 
 
 That Pride's poor play-things are not worth a figh ; 
 
 That 'tis our highefl privilege to die; 
 
 And all cur grief mufl fairly be confeft 
 
 But felfifhnefs, or ignorance, at befl. 
 You, Madam, anfwer " That our friend was young ; 
 
 " That fcandal never flain'd his faultlefs tongue ; 
 
 t<p That his whole foul was free from fordid art; 
 
 " That virtue never fiVd a nobler heart; 
 
 a How cruelly cut off before his time, 
 
 " His every jcy jufl rifing in the prime !" 
 
 Let me, from fad experience of the pafl, 
 
 Wifh my firfl moment might have been my laft; 
 
 And think, with fondnefs, of that happy fhore 
 
 Where he who fhar'd our forrows, mourns no more;
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FBIEND. 17 
 
 Where envy fhall not Interrupt our peace, 
 And human anguifh finds a full releafe. 
 
 The young when rufhing on their quickfand flags,. 
 Avoid, and pity, and defpife old age ; 
 With fullen hatred hear it's frigid rules, 
 And fancy that their fathers have been fools ; 1 
 
 That they the manners of the world will mend j. 
 That every gay companion is a friend ; 
 That native merit their fuccefs infures; 
 That fhe they figh for has a heart like yours. 
 But foon, by life's calamities oppreft, 
 Conviction, burfting on the tortur'd breafl, 
 Their blafled hopes the bitter truth reveal, 
 That men may talk of what they do not feel; 
 Nay, that the beft ne'er praftife as they know, 
 That words are all a wife man will beftow : 
 Then venerable Mifery fails to move, 
 Sufpicion freezes every fource of Love; 
 They feel no pkafure, they forbear to pleafe, 
 And who would ranfom life on terms like thefe? 
 
 Come let each thought in grateful rapture fwell, 
 Since he, who lov'd us, hath efcap'd fo well ; 
 Without one pang, from tendernefs forgot, 
 With fcarce one caufe to murmur at his lot; 
 To all which goodnefs infinite can give, 
 7 Twas in expiring he began to live. 
 
 From this low fcene, when fuch a foul retires, 
 What heart could cenfure, what the heart infpires j 
 A parting tear to Nature muft be paid, 
 Nature, in fpite of us, will be obey'd; 
 And kindling, like his friend, at Beauty's charms. 
 While every honour'd paflion's up in arms, 
 The eoldeft of all fongfters muft avow, 
 Life worth ambition, if enjoy'd with you* 
 Biij
 
 A POETICAL PROSPECT. 
 
 IF Nature to welcome the birth of your boy, 
 
 A vein of pure wit had allow'd, 
 Let him not, like a hero, twelve pounders employ, 
 
 In fhedding of innocent blood : 
 
 Nor venture his purfe, and his neck to difplay, 
 That he gallops as firm as his Grace ; 
 
 Nor yet at a card-table fhuffle away 
 The hours which are flying apace. 
 
 Let him not, like the lawyer, make juflice a job, 
 
 Forget what a gouty limb feels; 
 Far lefs round the pulpit afiemble a mob 
 
 Of women to rave at his heels. 
 
 But bid him retire to converfe with the dead, 
 
 And rifle the fweets of the Mufe ; 
 And each of the Bards, if devoutly he read, 
 
 A fpafrk of their fire will infufe. 
 
 His humour mail tempt the fevereft to /mile, 
 
 His wifdom enlighten the wife; 
 In grandeur, fimplicity, fweetnefs, his flyle 
 
 To the fummit of excellence rife : 
 
 Nor mall he fend half written trafli to the prefs, 
 And boafl that he fcorn'd to take time ; 
 
 That a flioal of fubfcribers infure his fuccefs, 
 That he pities the drudges in rhyme ; 
 
 That original talents are always undone, 
 
 ' By paufing like dulnefs to read; 
 That Genius around him her mantle has thrown, 
 That fcribblers may borrow who need.
 
 A POETICAL PROSPECT. ig 
 
 Such impertinence fhall not dishonour his page, 
 
 Though rung in our ears every day ; 
 Nor fhall he, with critics, at random engage, 
 
 Nor growl at the young and the gay : 
 
 But truth and good nature fhall aptly combine 
 
 With eloquence, freedom, and wit, 
 And thofe who their follies forbear to reflgn, 
 
 His candid politenefs admit. 
 
 And when he hath chaunted full many a verfe, 
 
 Which dunces themfelves mufl admire ; 
 He fhall, while his rivals his talents afperfe, 
 
 The great fervile homage require ; 
 And the all-worthy Public his glories rehearfe, 
 
 In a jail or a garret expire. 
 
 And, when they are certain the beggar's quite dead, 
 
 His friends to befriend him fhall hade ; 
 And Weftminfter Abbey, in marble fhall plead 
 
 Their munificence, feeling, and tafte: 
 
 And how they were fhock'd that a Genius fhould flarve, 
 
 And have paid him a generous tear; 
 That lofty diftinc\ion, O fops ! ye deferve, 
 
 Shall finifh, I truft, your career: 
 
 And he who but fuch baflard bounty beflows, 
 
 While Ketch and the Farfon attend, 
 And his lafl words are bellowed under his nofc, 
 
 From the top of a ladder defcend.
 
 [ ao ] 
 
 THE VOLUNTEER. 
 
 WHEN fivepence a folid meal cannot fupply, 
 
 To a jolly young man five feet ten inches high; 
 
 Who has jogg'd with his knapfack twelve leagues through 
 
 the rain, 
 
 While his wench and three brats had each ancle to flrain ; 
 The poor Volunteer to the halberts is tied, 
 For ftealing two chick-eggs and getting them fried: 
 What carters and jockies mould fuiFer he feels, 
 And the blood gufhes down from his nape to his heels. 
 The Commander in chief, who is almoft fifteen, 
 And a taylor's apprentice by right mould have been; 
 Now ftruts round the circle, then turns on his heel, 
 To belabour the drummers who don't make him feel 
 Swears England could ne'er have produc'd fuch a rogue, 
 And difcerns in his howling the true Irifh brogue. 
 The Surgeon, whofe lympathy fwells in each vein, 
 When a fwoon interrupts the convulsions of pain, 
 Makes them flog till he ftart to his fenfes again. 
 Nay, Dodlor and Drum for attendance are paid, 
 And his pockets are fieec'd while his moulders are flay'd. 
 
 He's pack'd in a tranfport on every ftate quarrel, 
 More tightly than bifcuit and beef in a barrel; 
 In torrents each fummer fhower ftreams through his tent, 
 In barracks more difmal, December is fpent; 
 In damp rovten bedding, the moment he's laid, 
 To the rage of whole armies his rear is betray'd; 
 In health he infallibly more than half ftarves, 
 In a tertian, he's us'd as a rafcal deferves. 
 
 His Chloe, by hunger, compell'd to fad pranks, 
 Is chas'd as a fwindler in form through the ranks; 
 His children, when feme baggage cart is o'erthrown 
 In a ditch, like blind puppies are fufier'd to drown. 
 
 And when for his king thirty years he has toil'd, 
 In Canada froA-bir ? in Africa bioil'd;
 
 THE DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 21 
 
 Has been thrice a week handcuff'd for drinking his pay, 
 Got nine thoufand lafhes for running away; 
 Has oft like a hero been wounded before, 
 And clear'd with a cudgel each concubine's fcore; 
 At lafl, with the Dons, point to point he engages, 
 For more than one fourth of a fcavenger's wages ; 
 Some merciful volley then matters a leg, 
 And his crutches obtain him permiffion to beg. 
 
 THE DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE: 
 
 OR, 
 A PANEGYRIC UPON THE WORLD. 
 
 !t PRIDE was not made for man," fome Preacher fays; 
 
 Yet pride, alas! dire&s us all our days. 
 
 The happier brutes we venture to contemn, 
 
 And thank our flars we were not made like them; 
 
 Yet every fault the four-foot race have known, 
 
 From Adam, downward, centers in our own : 
 
 And fince below the lafli they filent bend, 
 
 Let truth proceed their virtues to defend. 
 
 With what furprife, poflerity mall -fee 
 
 A panegyric penn'd without a fee ! 
 
 What right have we to trample on the weak, 
 Or flab a lamb becaufe he cannot fpeak? 
 The driver of a cart is proud to mow 
 His horfe obeys the better for a blow. 
 The generous, faithful dog, we dare defpife, 
 For we alone were made to mount the ikies; 
 And when his Crloin to the board is borne, 
 Forget the honed ox once plovv'd to raife our corn. 
 The Dutchman's model in an ant we fee, 
 And China's wifdom animates the bee. 
 The very fondefl votaries of love 
 Can but at diilance imitate the dove ; 
 And where's the architect would plan fo well 
 As beavers in the building of their cell?
 
 THE DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 As far in moral worth, as ftrength and (1 ze, 
 See the fage elephant beyond us rife 1 
 Our favage hunger defolates the earth, 
 The miferies we make afford us mirth. 
 For us below the furface of the pole, 
 Where no ray vibrates, and no billows roll, 
 The herring fpawns; for us the camel toils, 
 The pheafant fattens, and the lobfler boils: 
 Nor can his mail defend the turtle's fize, 
 A worm is baited, and the dolphin dies. 
 To Kildajs cliff the gannet foars in vain ; 
 The fharlc lies vanquiuYd on his fubjedl main ; 
 From his dark den the rugged bear we chace; 
 The rapid b. uck falls breathlefs from the race ; 
 The frog, the feal, the viper, and the boar, 
 The crocodile himfelf we dare devour ; 
 From his profoundefl deeps we drag the whale, 
 And forty blackbirds furnifh half a meal. 
 Thus, land and air, the foreil and the flood, 
 Are all unpeopled to fupply our food. 
 We flyle ourfelves the majlers of the globe. 
 Nay, boaft a ferious right to kill and rob; 
 Some folks obtained a charter to deflroy, 
 And we, their heirs, that facred trufl enjoy. 
 The prieft a fanfticn to the knife imparts, 
 And folemn canting ftcels our ilupid hearts, 
 
 Our fare, while {laughter every day fupplies, 
 We flill humanity pretend to prize ; 
 We brand the name of Nero with difgrace, 
 And fay his deeds reproach the human race ; 
 Becaufe he burn'd that den of robbers, Rome, 
 And gave a female fiend her proper doom. 
 Voracious murd'rerl view yon defert hive, 
 Where not one denizen is left alive! 
 All in black heaps, beneath thy rapine roll'd, 
 As Judah's Judges. butcher'd young and old! 
 Nor had thofe innocents offended thee, 
 3STor gave neccflfity an honefl plea.
 
 THE DIGNITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 2 
 
 The prince of quadrupedes finds ample food, 
 Without the baleful art of ftiedding blood: 
 With all detailed Nero ever fpilt, 
 His utmod crimes can fcarce approach thy guilt, 
 Vaunt as thou wilt about thy right divine, 
 The wolf may plead a better far than thine. 
 
 O might bold Juvenal my bread infpire 
 With all his facred, his immortal fire; 
 To trace theprogrefs fmce the world began, 
 Through all his freaks of that poor puppet Man ! 
 To (hake his coward heart with confcious fear, 
 And rend with hoflile truth the tyrant's ear. 
 Compar'd to us, the peacock is not vain, 
 Compared to us, the tyger is humane. 
 No fpaniel ever fhook with fo much fear, 
 As bankrupt farmers, when the term draws near; 
 And though the hogftye feems an horrid fcene, 
 Five hundred nations are not half fo clean. 
 An ape might learn the fcience of grimace 
 From fome field preacher, bawling faith and grace; 
 But when embattled fedls through ages bleed, 
 To prop fome trivial antiquated creed, 
 Sure this is madnefs to the brutes unknown, 
 And Hell mufl tedify 'tis all our own. 
 
 Of all the victims of the prefent fcene,"* 
 Man feels the fhorteft joy, the fharpeft pain. 
 On yon poor afs we turn contemptuous eyes, 
 And his calm patience pity and defpife; 
 But yet he never fwills the heady bowl, 
 Till every frantk paffion tears his foul: 
 On thiflles, grafs, and draw, content he lives, 
 And each pure dream a welcome beverage gives. 
 For him no dappled dame has broke her heart ; 
 No batter'd bawtl refines each damning art; 
 No dark attorney whets the vulture quill ; 
 No hungry quack rears up a mondrous bill. 
 No pulpit mountebank o'erfets his brains ; 
 No rooted pox {hoots venom through his veins: 
 A part of this paragraph is borrowed from Menande'r.
 
 *4 THE MAGPTE. 
 
 What ills afflicl him, nature hath beftow'd, 
 He nev^r madly multiplies the load. 
 
 If what the fcriptures teach us were not true, 
 That virtue mail heareafter reap her due ; 
 If Cato's worth is nothing but a name, 
 And good and bad are in the grave the fame; 
 If Sbakefpeare's intellect be gone to duft, 
 .And keen Voltaire furvives but in his bufl ; 
 His envied wound if Harnpden has forgot, 
 And Frederick fleeps, unconfcious why he fought; 
 If Howard mall not from the filent grave, 
 Survey that happinefs his bounty gave; 
 Nor Hawke review the glorious path he trode, 
 But moulder with a Swift or Sully's clod; 
 Vaunt as you pleafe of Nature's gracious plan, 
 I'd rather be a pifmire than a man. 
 This doubt fo terrible to human pride, 
 Reafon's dim rumlight never can decide : 
 The pious piercing eye of Faith alone, 
 Affures our rife to vorlds beyond our own. 
 
 THE MAGPYE: 
 
 A TALE FOR THE CBITICS. 
 
 MY reader may fancy tl>2 labour but light, 
 In penning by thoufands the trifles I write ; 
 Sit down, my dear fir, and your faculties try, 
 To excel thefe loofe flcetches yopr fkill may defy. 
 A frivolous art is oft hardeft to win, 
 Eighteen workmen are paid for completing a pin: 
 Or elfe for yourfelf manufacture your lays, 
 Or blufli to repine at our pitiful praife. 
 On this head allow me your ears to regale, 
 With a fhort, but perhaps with- a fenfible tale. 
 
 The birds all complain'd that in building a neft 
 The Magpye was wifer by far than the refl ;
 
 THE M.VCPYE : A TALE. 2J 
 
 That flic with a roof, could her lodging enclofe, 
 
 And laugh from within at the rage of her foes; 
 
 While to raife half a houle was the height of their power, 
 
 And when a cloud broke they weredrench'dinthe fhower. 
 
 Before a grand counc'J the matter was laid, 
 And the Goofe, Rook, and Mavis, ambafladors made, 
 By force or perfuafion, to pump from the Pye, 
 In what might her fecrets of mafonry lie. 
 
 44 Lay two flicks," faidthe feather'd Vitruvius, "acrofs, 
 4 For that," cry'd the Rook, '.' I was ne'er at a lofs." 
 4 Mix your mud with frefh {rubble." The Mavis replied," 
 4 In treading firm plafter I fpurn at a guide." 
 4 If thefe," bawl'd the Goofe, "-be the beft of your rules, 
 4 1 fear nobody, Madam, will mind you but fools." 
 4 My very kind teachers," faid Mag, with a fneer, 
 4 If fo wife, and alert, what the plague brought you here!* 
 u Go thatch for yourfelves; 1 ' fo me hopped away, 
 And her neighbours have wanted a roof to this day* 
 
 Our fiery applies to the rafhnefs of thofe 
 Who by Nature, confin'd to the region of profe, 
 Reproach, without mercy, the maflers of rhyme, 
 For each petty fault as a perfonal crime; 
 With the cant of fine tafle, while each cofFee-houfe ring?, 
 'Tis the pedant who barks, not the poet who {ings. 
 The grave, learned gown-man, too jealous to love 
 The bard whom his pension has plac'd him above, 
 Would do well to remember, that, but for our art, 
 He could not get vented the gall of his heart; 
 That learning to genius can be but a foil ; 
 As dung does notyorm though it fattens the foil ; 
 That talents untutor'd may fear to the flcy, 
 But a lame underftanding no crutches fupply. 
 Then let each remarker malevolence drop, 
 And humbly remember' this maxim of Pope: 
 44 He mould judge of a painter, whofe paintings excel, 
 14 And cenfure bad verfes, who verfifies well."
 
 ON THE LOSS OF ANCIENT LITERATURE. 
 
 THE fathers of our church, 'tis widely known, 
 Damn 1 *! every kind of learning but their own. 
 Did not Tertullian's worfe than brutal rage 
 Curfe and belie Menander's facred page ? 
 And did not Gregory his power exert 
 To burn the nobleft monuments of art? 
 Before her faints, Rome faw her Livy fall, 
 And Tully perifh'd to make way for Paul ; 
 And Pindar's elegies, and Sappho's odes, 
 For fome old monk's more pious palinodes. 
 Polybius, Plutarch, Salluft, were deflroy'd, 
 That Polycarp and Co. might fill the void. 
 Four-fifths of Tacitus we feek in vain, 
 He, too, was dull, indecent, and profane ; 
 Attefted miracles Vhich were not true^ 
 And hated (who could wonder?) every Jew. 
 What indignation warms each fcholar's breaft, 
 When charm'd with half a page, we lofe the reft. 
 This wreck was eafy in a ftupid age, 
 When priefts and Vandals fill'd the human ftage ; 
 But did not all the world grow.learn'd and wife, 
 When light once more defcended from the fkies! 
 When Calvin's pen the Deity defin'd, 
 And Luther's eye could pierce his Maker's mind! 
 That famous pair who led the pious horde, 
 Anew convuls'd the world with fire and fword, 
 And, by the foggy truths for which they fought, 
 *RepelTd the progrefs of pure manly thought. 
 When rampant Harry quarrell'd with the Pope, 
 And gave his Gothic confcience all it's fcope, 
 In the worft terms a bagnio can afford, 
 When Knox revil'd his queen toferve the Lord! 
 At that all-glorious dawning of Reform 
 Ten thoufatid volumes periih'd in the ftorm ;
 
 HORACE LIB. I. ODE 1. IMITATED. 2 
 
 And left fome novice think me too fevere, 
 
 In their own words their facred logic hear. 
 
 44 Horace ! what need we more than David's metre, 
 
 4t Or can Demofthenes compare with Peter ? 
 
 " Let Euclid's magic in the bonefire roll, 
 
 " Do rhomboids and right angles fave the foul? 
 
 " Be fure to pulverize the Book of James, 
 
 4t Subflantial virtue, that vile papift claims 
 
 " Forgetting Paul, he fpurns at faith alone, 
 
 * fc And bids our faintmip by our lives be (hown: 
 
 " All Gate's candour was not worth a pin, 
 
 " And Phocion's exit but a mining fin." 
 
 Such was the cant of thofe atrocious days, 
 On which weak bigots lavifh all their praife; 
 Yet we on Omar's madnefs dare to lay, 
 That lofs twelve Shakefpeares hardly could repay : 
 With all their tricks our common fenfe to blind, 
 With all their holy frauds to cheat mankind, 
 The conclave never coin'd a viler lie, 
 And here plain Truth may challenge a reply. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE I. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 FIELDING, and twenty others, tell us, 
 That long fmce an Olympic race, 
 
 There have been young light-headed fellows 
 Who did not think it a difgrace, 
 
 Though worth ten thoufand pounds a year, 
 
 To play themfelves the charioteer ; 
 
 But then they had a glorious aim, 
 
 To rival fome pofti lion's fame. 
 
 Suppofe a pamphleteer be witty, 
 And teafe the Minifter with jokes, 
 
 The patriot fages of the city, 
 Prefent their freedom in in a box;
 
 28 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE 1. IMITATED. 
 
 And if he takes uncommon fcope, 
 Deferving well to flretch a rope, 
 They never think it a reproach, 
 When harnefs'd in their hero's coach. 
 
 And he who fills the jockey's part, 
 Or charms with petulance the crowd, 
 
 Is jufl as happy in his art, 
 
 And fifty times at leail as proud 
 
 As the grave quarto-building fage, 
 
 Who fancies that Apollo's page, 
 
 Will pay the vaft arrear of fame, 
 
 And through all nations found his name. 
 
 The Git who ne'er a fous beflows, 
 
 Of all the guineas he has won; 
 Who, let himfelf get food and clothes, 
 
 Cares not what orphans are undone ; 
 More merit claims than he who's willing^ 
 To (hare with Want his only fliilling ; 
 Whofe penury may patch his coat 
 But pays the taylor to a groat. 
 
 The failor who in fearch of bread, 
 Mufl broil below the torrid zone, 
 
 Prefers the life he's forc'd to lead, 
 Scorns all profeflions but his own ; 
 
 Is happy round the world to roam, 
 
 And pities fools who lounge at homej 
 
 In Danger's lap he's lull'd afleep, 
 
 J^or minds the terrors of the deep. 
 
 The foldier too enjoys his pride, 
 
 And when the drum begins to rattle, 
 
 Forgets the drummer flay'd his hide, 
 And thinks of nothing but the battle. 
 
 Through blood, and fire, and froft, and fnow, 
 
 To ferve his betters let him go;
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE I. IMITATED. 29 
 
 Returning with an oaken leg, 
 The man of war rnufl flarve or beg. 
 
 The Chilian from his native height, 
 
 Who hears below the rolling thunder, 
 Through the dark bofom of the night, 
 
 Down rufhes to revenge and plunder; 
 Like Pyrrhus in the fack of Troy, 
 Nor fights to conquer but deftroy. 
 Yet this barbarian feeks a name, 
 And bids the fong atteft his fame. 
 
 And thus, whatever be our Ration, 
 
 Our hearts in fpite of us Declare, 
 We feel peculiar confolation, 
 
 And tafle of happinefs a mare. 
 Your laureate's chearful, when at times 
 You condefcend to hear his rhymes; 
 He plunges into verfe again, 
 And talks of hunger with difdain. 
 
 Our flate with all our reach of thought, 
 
 We were not born to comprehend; 
 But peace will come if wifely fought, 
 
 And pleafure if we gain a friend. 
 Then let us not our fenfes drown, 
 Staring at fhadows in the moon; 
 Gueffing why Saturn's belt was given. 
 His fatellites if fix or feven. 
 
 Ciij
 
 [ 3 3 
 
 AN OCCASIONAL 
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE TRAGEDY OF DOUGLAS, 
 Spoken at Dumfries on tbe i^tb June, 1 780. 
 
 "WHEREAS, it feems, this week to be fhe vogue, 
 To tag fmart Plays, with a dull Epilogue ; 
 Living but by the humour of the day, 
 Though very far to feek, for what to fay, 
 We've got one, in your ears I'll try to cram it; 
 Critics, ye're welcome, if ye pleafc, to damn it. 
 
 The wag who on your fervant cafls an eye, 
 Will, as we all have done, impatient cry, 
 *' Shall every dunce fquirt doggrel through his quill, 
 " More rugged than the rumbling of a mill ; 
 tc And does the fellow fancy he'll fay more 
 *' Than men of tafte have fully faid before, 
 * fc That fenfe is no where facrific'd to found ; 
 " That every fcene is built on claffic ground; 
 " That all mufl here acknowledge and admire, 
 *' An Otway's fweetnefs, and a Shakefpeare's fire. 
 44 No lines are overdaub'd, till they difguft, 
 " But every word is pleafing, nat'ral, juft j 
 *' And every thought fo happily difplay'd, 
 4t No more, no lefs, was proper to be faid." 
 
 Thus ye give verdict nor dare we deny 
 Our verfes humble, and our tafk too high. 
 One fentence let us fay, as yet unfaid, 
 Our debts of thanks at leafl (hall all be paid; 
 That who like us *, North Britain's fons may truft, 
 Shall find their fouls are generous, great, and juft; 
 That on their friendly hofpi table more, 
 No Coxcombs hifs rakes pelt or bullies roar. 
 
 Oft has French pertnefs in our fcribbling age, 
 Prefum'd to diftate precepts for the ftage ; 
 Chanted their prattling volumes up and down, 
 And told all Europe Shakefpeare was a clown. 
 
 * The company were from England.
 
 While from the chair by Britifh genius hurl'd, 
 
 ivouui.y drives them round the Weflern world, 
 \Vhile o'er Misfortune's precipice they hafte 
 For genius, learning, eloquence and tafte, 
 Athens whofe name the friends of wit revere, 
 May one day meet, who knows ? a rival here. 
 
 PROLOGUE, 
 
 On t be falling oftbe Gallery of Dumfries Theatre on the 
 itfb June, 1780. 
 
 His learn'd phiz with deep importance big, 
 
 Stern as your Sheriff in his three tail'd wig, 
 
 Some critic, when he fees me, with a fneer 
 
 Will cry ; u what vengeance brings that fpouter here. 1 ' 
 
 Ye, as who would not, his decrees admit, 
 
 And an indignant growl runs through the pit. 
 
 Our friends above while fury fires each eye, 
 
 Apples, fuck'd oranges, and oaths Jet fly. 
 
 The Ball-room echoes to poor Cuthsll's * rout, 
 
 While terror petrifies the folks without, 
 
 For fifty wile old women tell the town, 
 
 That Providence once more has brought the gallery down I 
 
 Then in a minute what a fhoal arrives, 
 Aunts, mothers, daughters, fitters, fvveethearts, wives, 
 For though they'll cry ct the fellows can't enchant us," 
 The dear good natur'd fools don't care to want us. 
 In tears they come to carry off the flain, 
 But when you tell them that their tears are vain, 
 Prefs'd to each panting heart their clamours flop, 
 And with a kifs wipe off the falling drop; 
 Their pious tongues the Aory book expound, 
 As how they've caught you on the Devil's ground;! 
 Louder than Whiteiield will the Whetftones clack, 
 And clap a downright judgment on your back. 
 
 * The name of the manager. 
 
 j- Tertullian was the father of this wild fable.
 
 35 VERSES WRITTEN IN A FINE SUMMER MORNING, 
 
 With grief, folicitude and fhame opprefs'd 
 We would not wifh to break an ill-timM jeft ; 
 Our pride was, we muft own, completely humbled, 
 When lafl week from yon roof our patrons tumbled; 
 But fince 'tis certain that the danger's pafl, 
 Since the firfl accident mall be the laft, 
 We trufl this tragic farce may form hereafter, 
 A ten days theme for merriment and laughter. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 WRITTEW IN A FINE SUMMER MOBXISC. 
 
 THOUGH the whole univerfe be glad, 
 When Summer in his glory reigns, 
 
 Reflection makes my bofom fad, 
 While vegeUtion fwells the plains. 
 
 For if a girl your love hath won, 
 
 Should fate beflow the darling prize, 
 
 One tender evening cannot drown 
 The ardour kindled by her eyes. 
 
 And in the height of paflion's fever, 
 
 If dawning forces you to part, 
 From her embrace, perhaps for ever, 
 
 A figh will furely heave your heart. 
 
 So, when I fmell the blufhing rofe, 
 And hear the birds on every bough, 
 
 And think how foon December fnows 
 Muft bury all that's charming nowj 
 
 When polar nakednefs fucceeds 
 
 The flow'ry tribes which deck the green, 
 
 No Mavis warbles in the meads, 
 And not a iingle leaf is feen;
 
 TRICKLE: A CHARACTER 
 
 I feel this joyous Summer day, 
 
 .. an its beauties dearly bought; 
 I cannot bid my foul be gay, 
 
 Nor bear the bitternefs of thought. 
 
 PRICKLE: 
 
 A CHARACTER. 
 
 WHEN Prickle kindly condefcends, 
 By learning, eloquence, and wit. 
 
 To teach, or entertain his friends, 
 With filent awe the circle fit. 
 
 He lectures, as Achilles fought, 
 One neither needs refift nor fly; 
 
 So deep, fo brilliant, every thought, 
 Conviction blufhes to reply. 
 
 We wonder how a {ingle head 
 
 Was fit to fludy, or retain 
 The world of volumes he has read, 
 
 And planted in his fertile brain. 
 
 But, mark him burfting into rage 
 At barbers bawling to be paid; 
 
 Or with his trembling fpoufe engage, 
 Becaufe his fnuffbox was miflaid ; 
 
 Or, fpouting bawdry with a punk, 
 Blafpheming with an air fo cool ! 
 
 For human nature never funk, 
 As far in any former fool. 
 
 Or ftagg'ring home at break of day, 
 
 Or gormandizing at a feaft, 
 And then, in Prickle's words you'll fay, 
 
 " Is man fuperior to a beaft ?"
 
 C 34 ] 
 
 COMMON SENSE. 
 
 WHAT fignify the wealth of nations, 
 The wifdom of a thoufand fages, 
 
 Where the gout fpreads its depredation?, 
 Or through each nerve a tertian rages ? 
 
 The bulk and diftance of the fun, 
 
 With fad indifference I read, 
 When, to my knee, Lovers pledges run, 
 
 And, bootless beg a piece of bread* 
 
 Plain men lack leifure to lament 
 
 The wreck of Plautus and Menander: 
 
 When thofe we owe their vengeance vent, 
 In fearch of plagues we need not wander. 
 
 Though Tully from the ftiades afcend 
 He cannot lend yon bankrupt aid j 
 
 Nor ftern Demoflhenes defend 
 
 His honour, till his debts are paid. 
 
 Some doubt, while fome deride, his grief; 
 
 Each honeft pang reproaches double ; 
 His friends, 'if he deferves relief, 
 
 Convince him friendfhip is a bubble. 
 
 But let him bear a brazen front, 
 
 With impudence and cunning gifted, 
 
 The world fhall fmile as it was wont, 
 And fcorn, to humbler guilt be ihifted.
 
 t 35 
 
 THE PRIMUM MOBILE. 
 
 No taylor will take up his needle, 
 No cobler patch a pair of fhoea, 
 
 No lawyer with a jury wheedle, 
 When difappointed of his dues. 
 
 No furgeon will extract a tooth, 
 No ftrumpet exercife her trade, 
 
 No parfon preach eternal truth, 
 Where not a fixpence can be made. 
 
 Unbaptiz'd, bare-tail'd you mufl wander, 
 The lofs of every lawfuit fee, 
 
 Nay, want in this chafle age, a pander, 
 Unlefs you can prefent a fee. 
 
 That artifl only toils for nought, 
 
 Who, in adulatory verfes, 
 While greatnefs fpurns him as it ought, 
 
 A great man's rrioral worth rehearfes. 
 
 ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE. 
 
 THE human race, a thoufand various ways, 
 
 Purfue the road to happinefs and praife; 
 
 Fancies fo fingular infpire each foul, 
 
 Scarce would you think one artift made the whole. 
 
 The flattefl dunce fome humour cannot hide, 
 
 Which marks him out from all mankind beilde; 
 
 For in the mind, as plainly as the face, 
 
 Features peculiar to itfelf we trace* 
 
 Though all in many points, refemblance claim, 
 
 No iinglc pair are perfectly the fame j
 
 .36 ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE. 
 
 So every grain of fand, the learn'd atteft, 
 Varies in fize and figure from the reft. 
 
 The band term'd heroes, launch a privateer, 
 In queft of fpoil through every clime they fleer; 
 Thirft, famine, quickfands, and the fcurvy fcorn, 
 By three Inch planks fcarce through the tempefl borne ; 
 On every danger, every inftantled, 
 Not one in ten among them dies abcd. 
 
 Another clafs prefer a quiet farm, 
 No martial ardour bids their fpirits warm ; 
 They never fee the deeps beneath them roll, 
 Fry at the line, or flriver at the pole ; 
 Their rough but folid fenfe, nor feeks the main, 
 Nor fcales the ramparts for a guilty gain. 
 Their pride is but to pay their landlord's rent, 
 And through inceflant toil they drudge content. 
 
 The merchant, by his debtors, daily wrong'd, 
 Of wares which never to himfelf belong'd, 
 Submits with patience to the will of Fate, 
 And, fince he muft be cheated, learns to cheat; 
 Hears with a fmile each female and each fop, 
 And fpins out life in ftalking round his mop ; 
 But recommend the compafs or the plow, 
 Contempt and terror darken on his brow. 
 With pudding, beef, and porter, fully fed, 
 And every morn, to fnore till breakfaft, bred, 
 How mould he with the ruftic rife to work, 
 Or combat famine with corrupted pork; 
 Or roufe to rage the mark's terrific form, 
 Or mount the main-maft in a midnight ftorm ; 
 Or when the burning deck beneath him rends, 
 And death in every horrid fhape defcends ; 
 When through each crafhing port the grapemot fweep, 
 And the torn yards roll headlong to the deep; 
 Each burfting fcam fucks in the heavy flood, 
 And the grim boatfwain almoft wades in blood; 
 hall this poltroon behind the counter bred, 
 Who fhudders but to fee a fick man bled,
 
 37 
 
 While half the fhip is into fplinters blown, 
 Snatch the laft fecond as her hull goes down ? 
 Survey the victor with a markfman's eye, 
 And give one parting broadfide ere he die. 
 
 The vintner, but a fycophant at beft, 
 Muft bow the knee to every fotted guefl; 
 And flill the more you're mad enough to fpend, 
 The more Ifcariot calls himfelf your friend. 
 To pleafe the company his brains he'll drown, 
 Nor dares affirm his foul itfelf his own. 
 Whate'er you fey, whatever be your flile, 
 He fcconds your aflertion with a fraile; 
 Train'd to debauch, and flattery, and fraud, 
 He's hardly ten degrees above the bawd. 
 Here equity protefls that nine in ten, 
 Are not one iota worfe than common men ; 
 Nay, half a dozen mofl of us have feen, 
 Whofe hearts were upright and whofe hands were clean; 
 And fhould but one prove honeft in a fcore, 
 For what profeffioncan you promife more? 
 The do&cr, the attorney, and the prieft, 
 Have furnifh'd merry bards with many a jeflj 
 One cloud of fages pore upon the iky, 
 Others engrave the features of a fly; 
 While mad to know what never can be known, 
 In metaphyfics fome their fenfes drown. 
 The chemift feels a jufl and curious paflion, 
 But botanizing now feems moft in fafluon j 
 And yet it's votaries make wond'rous din, 
 On many topics dearly worth a pin. 
 For though the oak our juft attention claim, 
 Does every pigmy plant deferve the fame? 
 To fquander pages on fome ufelefs weed, 
 Is but a very filly talk indeed; 
 Their language too, at which all mankind flares, 
 No mortal tongue articulates but theirs*. 
 
 * A very intelligent writer once aflured the Editor, that Bo- 
 tary was the moa trifling ftudy in the world; and that Linnsus 
 
 D
 
 3& ON THE DIVERSITIES OF LIFE, 
 
 The fon of grammar on all thefe looks down, 
 He conjugates a verb, declines a noun, 
 And could he but correct one claffic page, 
 Kis name defcends to every future age. 
 With him obfcenity becomes divine, 
 If Horace chanc'd to pen the precious line. 
 Supreme dictator in fome pariih fchool, 
 He dreams, perhaps, that Shakefpeare was a foo! ; 
 That Tully mufl be ftudied ere we fpeak, 
 That all true wit is bcrrow'd from the Greek*; 
 That melody is only to be found, 
 Where da Ay Is gallop, and fpondees drawl round. 
 
 'Tis poffible the reader may inquire, 
 To what diflinftion I myfelf afpire, 
 Let fongflers of fuperior notes to mine, 
 Sing Rodney rufhing through the Gallic line, 
 
 himfelf was more than half a fool. This perfon was at that very 
 time compiling a Syftem of Botany, which every body has feen. 
 Such is often the harmony between an author's converfation and 
 his works. 
 
 * " To attempt to under/land poetry, without having diligent. 
 11 ly digefled this treatife," (Ariftotle's Poeticks) " would be as 
 < aSfurd and impo/fible, as to pretend to a (kill in geometry, with- 
 " out having fludied Euclid," Warton's Effay on Pope, Vol. I. p. 
 170. By this remark, we learn, that Homer did not " underfland 
 " poetry;" for as he died many centuries before Ariftotle was 
 bom, he could riot have perufed the faid treatife. It is to be fear- 
 ed, that Shakefpeare J<new as little of Ariftotle; fince, in one of 
 his mofl correct plays, he introduces Helor quoting him. Now, 
 as it is needlefs to read any author who does not underjland his 
 fubjeft, the admirers of Mr. Warton may perhaps think it ad- 
 vifeable to commit thsfe two poets to the flames. 
 
 In the fame work, Vol. I. p. 196, we are told, that " he that 
 " has well dige/led thefe four fhort Cantos, (Boileau's Effay) can- 
 " not be faid to be ignorant of any important rule of poetry!" It 
 is not requilite to add, that thefe two paffages are in the diretft- 
 eft contradiction to each other, as well as to common fenfe. 
 
 In p. 229, of the fame volume, a few very trifling lines in 
 Pope's Rape of the Lock, are laid to have " excelled any thing 
 " in Sljakefpeare, or in any other author."
 
 fO THE MALE VIRGINS. 39 
 
 Or Elliot earning the great Pruffian's praife, 
 While Calpe's fky defcended in a blaze'; 
 A fcene compared to which, farrTd Ilion's fall 
 Bore but the femblance of a fehool-boy's brawl. 
 To pomp or pathos I make no pretence, 
 But range in the broad path of common fenfe, 
 jNTor ever burrow in the darkfubltme, 
 Nor cramp a thought by fcantinefs of rhyme; 
 And if by turns contemptuous and fevere, 
 Candour mud own the verfes are fincere; 
 Nor at a fool's command politely grieve, 
 Nor vindicate a fyftem none believe*; 
 Nor whet a pimp, nor ferve a tyrant's end, 
 Nor gain their fire a farthing or a friend. 
 
 TO THE MALE VIRGINS. 
 
 No cafe excites fuch tender pity 
 
 In men of feeling hearts like me, 
 As when a girl, kind, handfome, witty, 
 
 Remains a maid at twenty-three. 
 
 While fuch a croud of love-lick lafTes 
 Around the world fo wanton walk, 
 
 The reft of this work, and efpecially the dedication, is wrote 
 in the fame ftyle. The author is, in particular, very angry that 
 the wcrld fhould have miftaken Dean Swift for a poet ; amiftake 
 in which we are likely to continue. His publication confifts of 
 a feries of digreffions, and is only an abrupt difcharge of alThe 
 knows upon all fubjccls. His quotations from the Greek, in, an 
 eflay defigned for the million, betray the true fpirit of quackery. 
 He is one of the moft popular critics of theprefent age; and his 
 volumes have been fo generally circulated, that a man of fenfe 
 muft find it difficult to kick them out of his way. 
 
 * Such as Popery in " the Hind and Panther," or Optimifm in 
 " an Eflay on Man." The preceding line of this couplet refers 
 to the dedication of Dryden's Eleoaara. 
 
 Dij .
 
 4 ON POETICAL FAME. 
 
 Our fex are fomething worfe than affes, 
 To let them wither on the ftalk. 
 
 To multiply the human race 
 
 Is man's fublime and facred duty, 
 
 Shall we the glorious trufl difgrace, 
 And fly a warm though bamful beauty? 
 
 Let faints in monkifh precepts read, 
 Confirm their continence by pray'r, 
 
 But fince the cloth is fairly fpread, 
 'Twere folly to refufe a fharc : 
 
 Yet fliun a well frequented coaft, 
 Nor level at a mark that's common; 
 
 Nor let it be your favage boaft 
 
 To wrong each filly helplefs woman. 
 
 Provide fome jolly bouncing fpoufe 
 That's qualify'd to cool your name, 
 
 And mould the fortify your brows, 
 
 A Dutchefs might have done the fame. 
 
 ON POETICAL FAME. 
 
 *Tis weak in any man to lavifh pains, 
 And rifle and confound his brains, 
 
 In fearch of rhyme ; 
 
 For though he mould acquire the loudeft fame^ 
 That ever buzz'd about a name, 
 
 A glimpfe of time 
 
 .Shall fee his reputation melt away, 
 Some new blown bubble of the day 
 
 Supplies his place, 
 
 With frefher topics entertains the world ; 
 And early in its turn is luui'd. 
 
 To like difgrace.
 
 INDEX TO FEMALE VIRTUE, 
 
 Thus far-fam'd Churchill was not five years dead, 
 When nobody alive could jead 
 
 Quite through his pages ; 
 
 Yet fome, who have not half his fenfe and wit 7 
 Prefame their precious works are fit, , 
 
 For diflant ages. 
 
 The bays of Dryden almoft fade with years ; 
 No mortal now with patience hears 
 
 The Panther's flory ; 
 Kis Dedications are fuch fulfome fluff, 
 His Plays but what could be enough 
 
 To drown his glory. 
 
 Shakefpeaie himfelf fhall one day be forgot, 
 And each dull critic ceafe to blot 
 
 And damn the refl ; * 
 
 For, foon or late, our language muft expire, 
 And gracclefs cookmaids light the lire 
 
 With Falftafl's jeft. 
 
 AN INDEX TO FEMALE VIRTUE. 
 
 SWEET are the fex, but one eternal blot, 
 
 Too fhocking to be pardon'd or forgot, 
 
 Till death adheres to them like a difeafe, 
 
 Yet old and young may quit it when they pleafe. 
 
 The fault I mean is fondnefs to reveal 
 
 Thofe errors of the fex they fliould conceal. 
 
 On other points, with patience, we beftow 
 
 Whole hours to hear their " lively nonfeufe" flow; 
 
 * Fielding, in his Journey from this World to the Next, has 
 introduced Shakefpeare faying, " Where a paffage in my works 
 " admits of two meanings, neither of them can be worth a far- 
 " thing." The commentators on this writer have, in truth, be* 
 come a fort of nuifance. 
 
 Diij
 
 42 2XDEX TO FEMALE VIRTUE. 
 
 On teas and laces let them flitt difpute, 
 But on tbemfehes we beg them to be mute. 
 When envy flumes o'er a beauty's bloom, 
 Stark indignation drives us from the room. 
 
 The girl whofe mere good-nature grants a child, 
 By all the herd is hooted and revil'd ; 
 Nay, hags, who play'd that very prank before, 
 With matchlefs impudence her guilt abhor. 
 'Tis farcical with what a whining face 
 They fly to found the trumpet of difgrace; 
 Belch out the fumes of Preflbyterian rage, 
 And mourn the madncfs of the rifing age 1 
 Yet females, who poffefs the faireft fame, 
 Perhaps at bottom, are the very fame, 
 Train'd to the fport and " daughters of the game." 
 Men of true feeling take Misfortune's part, 
 Nor tantalife, but foothe a bleeding heart. 
 The foureft Methodift may chance to fail, 
 Like JEfop's fox entangled by the tail. 
 
 Though modefl wives are furely to be fought, 
 Their brittle boafted worth is often dearly bought* 
 If private fcandal half her time employs, 
 If night and day you're deafen'd with her noife, 
 How dares that viper hope to be carefs'd, 
 Who gives you fuch a fample of her breaft? 
 How bleft the man ! from fuch a monfter free, 
 Her ruffian virtue has no charms for me; 
 I grant you, decency her name adorns, 
 But rather would embrace a bum of thorns. 
 
 Let hen-peck'd flaves their tame forbearance boafl, 
 What Chriftian phlegm infpires them whenthey're crofs'dj 
 And while their hack is bawling o'er amours, 
 Forbear to kick the baggage out of doors. 
 Till my laft fpark of underflanding ceafe, 
 No pampered iiixenjball invade my peace ; 
 No concubine mail curb, no canting wife, 
 Claim a church-warrant to confound my Jifc.
 
 INDEX TO FEMALE VIRTUE. 43; 
 
 Her pipe, when pious indignation rears, 
 And fcare-crow texts are thunder'd in your cars, 
 A cat-o'-nine-tails, and a whipping poft, 
 Would richly pay whatever they may cofl. 
 
 We know the charmers honeftly intend 
 By fuch a tune themfelves to recommend, 
 To prove their feelings infinitely nice, 
 And teflify, like Paul, their rage at vice ;. 
 But every man who has not ftiut his eyes, 
 Deciphers at a glance their thin difguife. 
 The very gravefl virgins wifh to wed, 
 Like us they flight a folitary bed; 
 And when our aunts at roving wenches rail y 
 We always know for certain what they ail ; 
 Juft as a trade/man feels his courage drop, 
 When good old cuftomers go by his fhop. 
 Indulgence for their fpite may be allow'd, 
 Since females, like ourfelves, are fiefh and blood 
 
 Ladies ! the beft among you are but frail, 
 And may be ruin'd by fome traitor's tale : 
 The coldefl girl, complete experience proves,. 
 Denies no favour, where (he really loves : 
 The mofl demure ftarch'd maiden of you all r 
 If worth a firm affault, may likely fall. 
 Supppfing, then, the cafe became your own, - 
 And ye the ten days tattle of the town, 
 What bitter curfes would ye pour on thofe 
 Who took fuch pains your folly to expofe. 
 If Pity's voice your virtue fcorns to hear, 
 Prudence, at leaft, forbids to be fevere ; 
 For can the bell of parents, pray, be fure 
 Their daughters wont be wreck'd each palling hour? 
 The pureft lives expos'd to cenfure lie, 
 And dare we beg that pardon we deny ? 
 A fitter's faults in filence let us mourn, 
 Then we may claim her filence incur turn.
 
 C 44 ] 
 
 ALL FOR THE BEST. 
 THE ways of Providence are dark., 
 
 We cannot trace their plan, 
 To level at fo high a mark 
 
 Is infolence in man. 
 
 A pious bard prefumes to fay 
 
 That every thing is right, 
 Let pedants in their own dull way 
 
 Through metaphyfics fight: 
 
 For if you bluntly bid them read 
 The Candide of Voltaire,* 
 
 * " The novels of Voltaire are not pi&ures of life, or of man- 
 " ners, and the perfons which figure in them, are pure crea- 
 " tures of the imagination, fi&itious beings, who have nothing 
 " of nature in their compofition, and who neither aft nor rea- 
 ' fon, like the ordinary race of men. Voltaire, then, with 
 ' a great deal of wit, feems to have had no talent for humour- 
 " ous compofition." Ej/ay on the Principles of Tranjlation, 
 printed in 179!", p. 240. To a liberal mind nothing can be lefs 
 pleafing, than that difrefpecl with which ordinary men fome- 
 times treat works of genius, to the production, or even compre- 
 henfion of which, their underitandings are utterly unequal. To 
 attack the novels of Voltaire, is to attack, in by far its flrongeft 
 quarter, a character which, in fpite of many faults, has for half 
 a century obtained the attention of Europe. We laugh at Pan- 
 glofs; we fympathize with Candidus; we feel a cordial efleem 
 for Martin and Cacambo; and he muft have feen but little, who 
 has not obferved correfpondent chara&ers in real life. Pococu- 
 rante is a natural, juft, and admirable pisfiure of a philofophical 
 voluptuary. Even the fullen bigotry of Samuel Johnfon was mol- 
 lified into approbation by the beauties of this charming volume. 
 His other novels poflefs, for the moft part, uncommon merit. At 
 the death of Mifs St. Ives, we may exclaim with the firft of mo- 
 dern poets. " If you have tears, prepare to fhed them now." 
 
 In the midft of our offence at the paflage above quoted, it is 
 amufing to refleft that Voltaire himfelf has decided with equal 
 andour and judgment on the genius of Sliakeipeare,
 
 TBOGRESS OF MORAL SENSIBILITY. 45 
 
 Scnfe cannot enter fuch a head, 
 Nor has itimfinefs there. 
 
 A gouty toe, a rotten tooth, 
 Refute his flimfy fong, 
 
 And ratify the mournful truth, 
 That many things are wrong. 
 
 THE PROGRESS.OF MORAL SENSIBILITY. 
 
 THOUGH a young rogue impatient to be great, 
 May fludy all he can to play the cheat, 
 Contemn the franknefs of a generous friend, 
 Nor fpare one fmile but for fome felfifli end ; 
 "Without remorfe, a train of falfehoods tell, 
 And with fedudion the black progrcfs fwell ; 
 Though fraud pervades the eiTence of his foul, 
 Something is wanting yet to crown the whole ; 
 The harveft of corruption is not ripe, 
 The human wolf ihall often quit his gripe : 
 His milky heart compells him now and then 
 To melt and fympathife like better men. 
 The parfon's bawling, or the widow's tear, 
 May warm with pity, or may chill with fear ; 
 Revolting nature flumes in his face, 
 For callow guilt can feel its own difgrace. 
 But when our hero turns of thirty -five, 
 And dreams no truly honeft man will thrive ; 
 Sees that by candour little can be gainM, 
 
 That talents without money are difdain'd ; 
 
 That lie, and he alone is courted moft, 
 
 Who can the plenty of his table boafl ; 
 
 That a fine lodging and expenfwe clothes, 
 
 Are the bed proofs of worth the public knows ; 
 
 That mould a beggar rival Dryden's rhyme, 
 
 Genius in him is but a kind of crime i
 
 46 PROGRESS OF MORAL SEN'S IBILITT. 
 
 A petty treafon, giving deep offence 
 
 To men of rank, who feel their want of fenfe ; 
 
 His own misfortunes make his heart fo hard, 
 
 That numan mifery meets with no regard. 
 
 He fancies fellow-men mere beafts of prey, 
 
 And if lefs fierce, yet falfer far than they. 
 
 His friends, no doubt, will many a promife crack, 
 
 In their own coin he pays the traitors back. 
 
 He fadly wonders why the world was made, 
 
 That fuch a motely fcene might be difplay'd : 
 
 Where virtue finks, where fuperftition rules, 
 
 Where almoit none are fair but arrant fools ;* 
 
 Nor cares though the whole fpecies were deftroy'd, 
 
 Might he, like Japhet's father, fill the void. 
 
 Such is the progrefs (if I don't miflake) 
 That age in morals feldom fails to make ; 
 The understanding is improv'd of courfe, 
 But oft experience makes your feelings worfe ; 
 A thoufand various accidents controul, 
 Or crufh the nobler feelings of the'foul. . 
 Have you a fpoufe whofe humour is to chide I 
 You hate fincerely the whole fex befide ; 
 Or, elfe with fome kind concubine you moor, 
 While female worth againfl her bolts each door. 
 In either cafe, nor vow the maxim wrong, 
 Morals, mofl likely, are not wond'rous flrong. 
 
 Perhaps you marry fome enchanting maid, 
 By whom your love is perfectly repaid; 
 Who never teafes with too pert advice, 
 Nor would defert your arms for Paradife ; "* 
 Who owns that women are a woeful charge, . 
 Nor on affum'd importance dares enlarge ; 
 Nor never triumphs o'er a lifter's fin, 
 Nor quarrels with her girl about a pin, 
 Nor like a {trumpet {trolls around the ftreet, 
 To {tare on every coxcomb fhe mall meet ; 
 
 * " Children and fools tell truth," fays the proverb.
 
 ODE TO INNOCENCE. 47 
 
 Is or waves a feather fabric eight feet high, 
 
 For fear fhe mould not catch the vulgar eye ; 
 
 Nor prates aloud that paffengers may hear, 
 
 Nor hints her wimes by a wanton leer. 
 
 Her bloom is facred from cofmetie dirt, 
 
 She knows when wanted, how to warn a fhirt ; 
 
 She, when you lead her to an evening walk, 
 
 Can talk of trifles, yet amufe by talk. 
 
 If fuch a miracle you hap'ly find, 
 
 Though full but the fag-end of human kind ; 
 
 No more with wide benevolence you burn, 
 
 On her alone your tender tranfports turn. 
 
 Your tavern friendihips moulder and decay, 
 
 As Venus finks before the blaze of day : 
 
 In love alone felicity you place, 
 
 And while encircled by her fond embrace, 
 
 Your obligations to us all forget, 
 
 Till twelve months hence your dear is drown'd in debt; 
 
 Difeafe invades the features once fo fair, 
 
 And infant anguijb racks you with defpair ; 
 
 While noife annihilates your midnight reft, 
 
 The quack's predictions harrow up your breaft ; 
 
 And twenty pounds are nothing to his fcore, 
 
 Which half a crown per annum clear'd before. 
 
 Then once again your fentiments are chang'd, 
 
 And every dream of happinefs derang'd ; 
 
 Then you'd, perhaps, if fairly left to choofe, 
 
 Prefer the hangman's to the hufband's noofe. 
 
 OLE TO INNOCENCE. 
 
 FROM THE LATIX OF SECVNDUS. 
 
 O INNOCENCE ! be thou my guide 
 Through the tempcftuous path of life; 
 
 Teach me in thee to place my pride. 
 And fly the miferics of ilrife :
 
 48 ODE TO StEEP. 
 
 Nofcrufti the early-opening flower, 
 Exterminate the toilfome bee ; 
 
 Nor, in the wantonnefs of power, 
 Enflave the lark fo dear to thee : 
 
 Nor from the goldfinch force her young, 
 
 Nor bid the blackbird's bofom (well, 
 While anguifh animates her tongue 
 * To pour a parent's fond farewell : 
 
 Nor butcher the mild helplefs hare, 
 Nor, on the barb the worm fufpend; 
 
 But make it my incefiant care 
 To aft. the univerfal friend. 
 
 For me no maid fhall mourn her vow, 
 No fire reproach his ruin'd fon ; 
 
 Nor tortur'd confcience tinge my brow, 
 For what my yefterday hath done. 
 
 By thy pure fentiments infpir'd, 
 My conduct virtue mail revere ; 
 
 And Vice, to emulation fir'd, 
 Shall drop a penitential tear. 
 
 ODE TO SLEEP. 
 
 FROM THE SAME. 
 
 O SLEEP! to thy fedu&ive charms 
 My clay with gladnefs I refign ; 
 
 Let madmen court the din of arms, 
 The rapture of repofe be mine; 
 
 Let others watch the midnight flcy, 
 The cavern's horrid gulf defcend, 
 
 Above the clouds on fmoke-bags fly, 
 Or to the pole their paflage rend.
 
 ODE TO SLEEP. 49 
 
 For me, 'tis j-uft enough to read 
 The terrors of the frozen fea; 
 
 No buriling wave fhall drench my head, 
 No flatting plank, mall banifli thee. 
 
 No burning defart fhall I range, 
 No Nabob rack in queft of gold. 
 
 Can Peace admit a fair exchange? 
 Are thy embraces to be Told? 
 
 When Thou, with Innocence, art gone, 
 How fad, how terrible to live! 
 
 JDomeftic happinefs alone 
 
 A pure tranquillity can give. 
 
 'Tis night ; our cares are thrown afide, 
 Our lifping prattlers lull'd to reft; 
 
 Through every vein I feel thee glide, 
 Ahd prefs my Julia to my breaft. 
 
 FROM THE SAME. 
 
 THOUGH thou, my charming boy, wert born 
 Before the church a licence fold, 
 
 Thou malt not, helplefs and forlorn, 
 Thine arms around an hireling fold. 
 
 Since what a thoughtlefs girl could lofe, 
 
 Thy mother forfeited for me, 
 Dare I, to ftab her laft repofe, 
 
 Rend her young doating heart from thee? 
 
 Or, would a vulgar hackney'd nurfe 
 To all thy little wants attend; 
 
 Ten thoufand times my (lender purfe 
 Mufl fail to buy thee fuch a friend.
 
 5 THE PULPIT ORATOR. 
 
 Though thyjufr claims thou canft not pies 
 I own thehoneft warmth of Nature, 
 
 And what I was, reflected read, 
 In each fond artlefs infant feature. 
 
 Detefting haughty, harm referve, 
 
 Thy tender titles I avow, 
 Thy father feels through every nerve 
 
 A joy he never felt till now. 
 
 THE PULPIT ORATOR. 
 
 ALL mankind fcorn the man whofe narrow mind, 
 
 To panegyrick never is inclin'd ; 
 
 Who, when you bid him juft applaufe allow, 
 
 Feels a cold fweat come rufhing down his brow; 
 
 Damns every fault in a triumphant ftyle, 
 
 And feafls on cenfure with a favage fmile. 
 
 To fuch a wit, a due reward is made, 
 
 For envy by contempt is conflantly repaid. 
 
 The wife retire with pity, and with pain, 
 
 The dull may halt but hear him with difdain. 
 
 Yet to fuch vipers though we cannot trufl, 
 Weak admiration gives alike difgufl. 
 And this misfortune happens every day, ~| 
 
 The mob have little new to think or fay, ^ L 
 
 But follow where feme pedant points the wfy; J 
 
 The "maddeft nonfenfe cheerfully goes down, 
 If he who fills the chair has got a gown. 
 
 How far beyond all paft, this century fhines, 
 For ardent active orthodox divines ! 
 Our picus Ifle alone, were paftors wanting, 
 Could fpare enow Great Tartary for planting. 
 Yet fuch a happy furplus fvvarm at home, 
 That all would wonder whence the colony had come. 
 Our parfons ipeak, with fo much force and fpirit, 
 That Tully might have marvell'd at their merit.
 
 DECEMBER: A PANYGEHICK. 
 
 They never teafe us with abfurd advice, 
 Nor ever chaunt the fame dull ftory twice ; 
 Nor ftun our fenfes with a drawling found, 
 Where noife and jargon only can be found ; 
 Nor veer about with each difcordant text, 
 Preach peace this day, and turbulence the next. 
 No. They are all fuch bright, fuch matchlefs men, 
 Their praifes would exhauft a Shikefpeare's pen ; 
 One recent burft of oratorial ikill, 
 Compell'd this humble homage of my quill. 
 Sagacious Snuffle ! what haft thou to fay, 
 More than old women chatter every day? 
 " That not in human ilrength the wife will truft, 
 44 For ftrength and beauty moulder into duft; 
 44 That all are diners born, that all muft die, 
 44 And all in fire and brimftone ought to fry; 
 '* But that kind Providence, if we believe, 
 44 Perhaps will pardon us the guilt of Eve;" 
 Shreds of divinity fo trite and ftale, 
 That faith itfelf nods o'er the taftelefs tale. 
 One time thou bid'ft us propagate our race, 
 Then talk'ft of wedlock with wife Paul's wry face. 
 Some lighter penance if juft heaven require, 
 Nor for an apple plunge a world in fire, 
 Let gracelefs heretioks from hell fet free; 
 Eke out <l4 eternal death" in hearing thee. 
 
 DECEMBER: A PANEGYRIGK. 
 
 WHEN mall this rude weather grow foft and ferene, 
 And fmile with the fweetnefs of May? 
 
 For winter is furely a terrible fcene, 
 Gompar'd with a calm fummer's day. 
 
 And yet if a fick man mould venture to cry 
 
 " The natives of Chili are bleft," 
 A thoufand fage patriots will fiercely reply, 
 
 Our climate is furely the beil; 
 
 Eij
 
 ,J2 HECEMBER : A FANTGERICK. 
 
 That langs-rending froft will refine the foul air. 
 
 That fnow fertilizes the duft, 
 That were not fine weather fo conftantly rare, 
 
 Fine weather itfelf would difguft. 
 
 Let weak fuperftition admire if fhe will, 
 
 That vengeance which damns half our year; 
 
 But fhall reafon be thankful for evident ill, 
 Or welcome what cofts us fo dear. 
 
 From the comfertlefs field when the cattle retire, 
 When the fparrow falls dead on the wing, 
 
 "When creation herfelf feems about to expire, 
 Can gratitude tempt us to ling? 
 
 Dares a bard out of bedlam pretend to be glad, 
 
 For a long dark tempefluous night, 
 Or prefume when all nature around him is fad, 
 
 His fantaflical verfes are right. 
 
 As if this peftiferous Ifland of ours, 
 
 Could rival Mifiiffipi's plains; 
 Where the heav'ns never burft in fuch horrible {hovers 
 
 But fummer eternally reigns. 
 
 Yet fuch is the cant we perpetually hear, 
 From the moment we enter the fchools, 
 
 And this age and nation affect to revere 
 Such flow'ry nonfenfical fools. 
 
 If your fancy be really enamour'd of ice, 
 If fnow hath fuch charms for your foul, 
 
 You cannot with honour rejec~l my advice, 
 Of attempting a trip to the Pole. 
 
 And I prophecy frankly, if e'er you return, 
 That your keennefs for cold will be loft ; 
 
 For the lapfe of December no more mall you mourn, 
 Nor rejoice in the fetters of froft.
 
 C 53 3 
 
 VERSES 
 
 Infer ibed to John Hamilton^ Arcbbijbop of St. Andrews, 
 From the Latin of Buchanan. 
 
 BORN of a flrumpet, in a common flew, 
 
 No wonder nobody thy father knew. 
 
 At length a rich old dotard was beguil'd, 
 
 Vain to be fancied fit to plant a child; 
 
 But though he fuffer'd this domeflic fhame, 
 
 Thy morals mark the fchool from whence they came. 
 
 Falfe, cunning, fierce, rapacious, ever proud 
 
 With proftitutes to foak the price of guiltlefs blood. 
 
 How pure a prieft! He neither fafls nor prays, 
 
 But in a bagnio fpends his leaft atrocious days. 
 
 O Hamilton ! with talents thus fublime, 
 
 Commit for once a meritorious crime ; 
 
 Thy dagger's point let mankind ceafe to fear, 
 
 And in a halter clofe thy black career. 
 
 AN EPITAPH. 
 
 MUTE here a merry Poet lies ; 
 " He only made pretence 
 To fimple, limping, laughing lines. 
 Which never gave offence. 
 
 Himfelf was peaceful, like his Mufe, 
 
 The word which we can fay 
 Is, that he fold his apples dear, 
 
 And on the Sabbath day. 
 
 More happy far he was than wits 
 
 In higher fcenes who mov'd ; 
 But who, nor liv'd, nor dy'd like him. 
 
 Lamented and belov'd. 
 
 Eiij
 
 54 OBSERVATIONS ON THE MODERN DRAMA, 
 
 No Patron fiatter'd and betray 'd; 
 
 No Bookfeller oppreft : 
 His meal was light, his fleep was found, 
 
 His verfes were his jeft. 
 
 Nor, treading on'the old man's turf, 
 
 Can he who writes forbear 
 To pay departed Innocence 
 
 An undiflembling tear. 
 
 Critic, forgive thefrft efiay 
 
 Of one whofe thoughts, are plain, 
 
 Whofe heart is full, who never means 
 To fteal your time again. 
 
 TO THE PRINTER OF THE BATH CHRONICLE. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 IT is one chara&er, and I think the privilege of old age, 
 to hate the prefent times, and to complain of degenera- 
 cy ; in this character I prefent myfelf to you, and I hope 
 that you will fo far indulge my foible, as to allow a fmall 
 corner in your Mifcellany for my complaint. 
 
 It is now above fifty years flnce I firft began to fre- 
 quent the Bath waters, and enjoy the falutary pleafures 
 of this famous place. I have drunk with Qujn, chatted 
 with Nam, and played whift with Chefterfield ; I now 
 find wonderful changes, not wholly for the better. I 
 fhall confine my complaint, at prefent, to one article. 
 I have always been a warm admirer of our beft dramatic 
 entertainments, and my acquaintances have efteemed me 
 as a critic of fome note in that line. I entertain a fixed 
 opinion, that, in England true drarnatick genius moflly, 
 cxifted and expired in one age; I mean -in the age of 
 Shakefpeare, Johnfon, Beaumont, and Fletcher ; this 
 vras a prevailing opinion fince the Rehearfal checked the 
 miferable courfe of falfe tafte, till of late years, when
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE MODERN DRAMA. 55' 
 
 that excellent fatire feems forgotten, andfalfetafle again 
 triumphs among our writers and our auditors. In oar tra- 
 gedies, fuftian pafles for the fublime ; and in our come- 
 dies, a flrange fort of quaintnefs for wit and humour. 
 Our plots are improbable, our characters are not drawn 
 from life, but from plays or romances, and our fongs 
 have no fenfc at all. Shakefpeare's cenfure of bad dra- 
 matick writings in his time, is applicable to our modern 
 drama : 
 
 " Extremely ftrain'd and conn'd with cruel pain." 
 
 Our writers compofe Invita Minerva, and the charac- 
 ter given of bad plays in the Rehearfal, is flill more ap- 
 plicable in our time, that they are " dull and fantafti- 
 " cal ;" a ftrange compofition ! The u old plain way of 
 u wit" is now no longer in vogue, yet every feaibn pro- 
 duces new tragedies, comedies, and numberlefs comic 
 operas, which are recommended by critics, and a<!ted 
 with aftonifhing applaufe. For my part, and I know I 
 am not altogethet fingular, I damn them all, with a ve 
 ry few exceptions. 
 
 I now come to my fpecial matter of complaint ; I have 
 refided in Bath for two months pafl, yet I have not feen 
 one of the old plays announced for performance ; in for- 
 mer times, we had no comic operas, excepting Milton's 
 Comus, (undeformed by Garrick'a alterations) and the 
 Beggar's Opera, exquifite entertainments. The old plays 
 (alfo unadulterated by our vile modern alterations) were 
 frequently exhibited and well adled. 
 
 I am, Sir, your very humble fervant, 
 BATH, May 8, 1789. AN OLD CUSTOMEK., 
 
 P. S. I muft fairly confefs, that I do include under my 
 cenfure, the favoured comedies of two illuflrious Gene- 
 rals ; and I admit of no proper exceptions but the Dou- 
 glas in tragedy, and in comedy a few of Foote's carelefs 
 imperfeft pieces, and the writings of Mr. Sheridan, .
 
 C 56 ] 
 TO THE PRINTER. 
 
 SlE, 
 
 I THIS morning read over that incomparable comedy, the 
 Merchant of Venice. Had the author compofed only that 
 play, he would have deferved a place in the firft rank of 
 dramatic writers. A groupe of the fineft moral characters 
 are all admirably fupported. Anthonio, Baffanio, and 
 Portia, are each in the higheft ftyle of Shakefpeare's excel- 
 lence. When Portia, with a noble Simplicity, fays, 
 " I never did repent of doing good, 
 " And fhall not now," 
 
 we feel an irrefiftible impreffion, that the poet himfelf 
 muft have been a worthy honeft man. I mall quote one 
 of thofe paffages that ftruck me as remarkably pathetic. 
 When Solarino is about to mention the ruin of Anthonio, 
 affedtion and forrow almoft ftine his utterance. 
 
 " It is true, without any flips of prolixity, or cromng 
 " the plain high-way of talk, that the good Anthonio, 
 " the honeft Anthonio that I bad a title good enough 
 " to keep bis name company!" 
 
 Gratiano is likewise a character of exquifite entertain- 
 ment. His reply to Baflanio, who had exhorted him to 
 caution, is in that fort of folemn ludicrous ftyle, almoft 
 entirely peculiar to Shakefpeare. 
 
 " Signior Baflanio,' hear me ; 
 " If I do not put on a fober habit, 
 " Talk with refpeft, and fa ear but now andtbenj' l ty > c. 
 
 In his addrefs to Shylock, however, in the beginning 
 of the fourth aft, he kindles into the moil generous and 
 eloquent indignation. We fee, with much fatisfadlion, 
 that good humour does not merely play on the furface of 
 his mind, but is ingrafted on a manly feeling heart. Du- 
 ring the trial that follows, he preferves a ftrift and be- 
 coming filence : But the moment that his friend is out of 
 danger, the poet, ever attentive to chaitity of charaftcr
 
 HINTS RESPECTING BOTANT BAT. 57 
 
 and to nature, reprefents him relapfing into the mofl tu- 
 multuous exultation. There is awhimficalportraitof this 
 charming phantom drawn by Baflanio, which I beg leave 
 to recommend to James Bofwell, Efquire, as a motto for 
 the title page of his Life of Dr. Samuel Johnfon, if print 
 and paper mall ever be fquandered on a fecond edition. 
 
 " Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more 
 " than any man in all Venice: his reafons are as two 
 " grains of wheat hid in two bumels of chaff! You fhall 
 " feek all day e'er you find them ; and when you have 
 u them, they are not worth the fearch." 
 
 The learned and facetious Lord Monboddo was converf- 
 ing fome years ago on this 1 aft topic: " I have lived," 
 faid his Lordfhip, u to fee my country humbled in arts, 
 " and humbled in arms ; but I never expeded to have 
 u feen England humbled to the admiration of Dr. Samuel 
 " Jobnfon." 
 
 T. T. 
 
 TO THE PRINTER. 
 SIR, 
 
 Ix a late paper you informed us, on official authority-, 
 that previous to the i8th of March 1791, two thoufand 
 and twenty-nine convicts have been fhipped from England 
 for New South Wales. We alfo learned, that prior to 
 the gth of February in the fame, year, the expences of this 
 eftablifhment amounted to three hundred and feventy-ibur 
 thoufand pounds. Befides this fum we are told of contin- 
 gencies, " that cannot as yet be Hated. 1 * It was for the" 
 minifter's credit to make his project appear as frugal as 
 poffible, and to fupprefs a part of this enormous expendi- 
 ture to ferve the temporary purpofes of debate. We may 
 fafely affirm, that the contingencies referred to, make no 
 trifling fum. Ten additional months fall now alfo to be 
 added to the account; and it is not unreafonable to com- 
 pute the total expence, up to this date, at fix hundred
 
 j8 BINTS RESPECTING BOTANY BAT. 
 
 thoufand pounds. Thefe exiles have not, upon an aver- 
 age, been more than three years in New South Wales. 
 During that fhort period we fee that each of them has coft 
 this country three hundred pounds. As the climate is 
 much more healthy than our own, they may be expeft- 
 ed to furvive tranfportation for twenty years to come. 
 By that time, the additional expence of each convitft 
 will amount to, perhaps, fix hnndred pounds. It may in- 
 deedbe alleged, that before that time, the country will be 
 reduced to a flate of cultivation. But a circumftance men- 
 tioned by the governor fufficiently ihows the great diftance 
 and uncertainty of fuch a profpeft. It coft him and a party 
 five days to penetrate thirty miles into the defart; and the 
 fatigues they underwent during this journey were excefiive. 
 In the fame paper you tell us, that eighteen hundred and 
 thirty additional convifts were then under orders for fhip- 
 ping. It is impoflible to eftimate, with any degree of cer- 
 tainty, what may be the annual expence of this colony 
 before the end of the eighteenth century. By a very mo- 
 derate efiimation we may fuppofe, that before ten years 
 clapfe, the colony will receive at leafl ten thoufand ad- 
 ditional convidls ; and it is but fair to compute, that of 
 the whole number by that timetranfported, ten thoufand 
 will then be alive, and maintained at the expence of 
 Government. Now, if each of thefe gentry mall coft us 
 only thirty pounds a year, the whole annual expence will 
 amount to three hundred thoufand pounds. At the end 
 of twenty years it may rife to double that fum. To this 
 we muft add the charming item, of fifty or an hundred 
 pounds Sterling per head for the expence of their voyage. 
 Will the Britifh nation, with its eyes open, walk into fuch 
 a gulf? Had each of thefe criminals been difcharged from 
 the bar, it is very unlikely that he would have committed 
 one tenth part of the mifchief by abufing his liberty at 
 home, which he entails on us by enduring flavery abroad. 
 Thefe premifes are unanfwcrable, and we muft infer 
 that the Botany-bay fcheme is the moft abfurd, prodigal, 
 and impracticable vifion that ever intoxicated the mind
 
 HINTS RESPECTING BOTANT BAT. 5Q 
 
 of man. A poor fellow deals a watch, or a horfe worth 
 five or ten pounds. The lofs is paltry, but mark the con- 
 fequences. His trial, in Scotland at leaft, coils the pub- 
 lic, between expence and perfonal trouble to individuals, 
 perhaps, four times that fum; and then his tranfportation, 
 the devil knows where, and the devil knows why, per- 
 petuates a burden upon his country to the amount of ten 
 times the lofs incurred by the robbery and trial put to- 
 gether. In the modern ftate of matters a criminal when 
 convifted does not deferve that title for breaking a mop, 
 or a ftable; but, becaufe, if he efcapes the gallows he 
 plunders the public treafury of three, or five, or perhaps 
 fifteen hundred pounds. Tranfportation to North Ame- 
 rica was, in comparifon, but a ride before breakfafl. New- 
 South Wales is at the diflance of fix or eight thoufand 
 leagues, if we include the windings and turnings nece- 
 flary on the pafiage. In the former country, the price of 
 a felon, when landed, was fufficient to pay the expence 
 cf his voyage. But in the latter, a footpad, the moment 
 we fet him on more, is enrolled with many other right ho- 
 nourable gentlemen in the refpe&able and ufeful band of 
 national pen/loners. 
 
 There is not an old woman in the three kingdoms who 
 cculdnot have fuggefted a better refource. A bridewell in 
 each county, on the plan of the Panopticon*, and under 
 a few obvious regulations, would effectually difpofe of 
 convicts ; and inflead of cofting the nation an enormous 
 annual expence, would produce a large annual revenue. 
 Mr. Pitt has, however, pledged his character and abilities 
 in fupport of this project, and he will, no doubt, adhere 
 to it with his ufual^rmne/}, till the period of his refigna- 
 tion. If he mall continue in office for^ten years longer, 
 every fool in this country will fee what every man of fenft 
 fees already. By that time this chimera will be treated 
 with univerfal execration, as a millftone hanging at the 
 
 f This is a prifon on a new and improved plan, by which pri. 
 foners can be kept entirely folitary, without a pofllbility of cor- 
 rupting each other.
 
 60 BEMAKKS ON SCOTS POETRY. 
 
 neck of public credit ; and the new minifter, as a fpeci- 
 men of his importance, will inflantly abandon the fettle- 
 ment. But indeed this ineftimable defcription of Britilh. 
 iubjefts may very pofiibly fave him that trouble, by cut- 
 ting the throats of their taikmafters, and embarking on 
 board the {hipping in the bay. Could this revolution 
 be accomplifhed without bloodmed, it is in itfelf an event 
 extremely defireable. 
 
 Edin. Dec. 16, 79i TUMBLEDOWN. 
 
 TO THE PRINTER. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 FOR about five years pafl, we have been amufed by the 
 Jbookfellers with an inceflant chorus of verfes in the 
 Scottim dialect. Every county in Scotland has a num- 
 ber of words and phrafes peculiar and intelligible to it- 
 felf only, and it is ufual for the bard to borrow, without 
 felcdlion, the provincial vulgarifins to which he has been 
 accuftomed. Before an author can pleafe, he mufl make 
 himfelf underftood. T^ a native of Annandale the dia- 
 Jefts of Aberdeen^' 'id of Somerfet are equally difcor- 
 dant. The fame ~. iucli poetry can hardly be extenfive 
 or lafting. But befides, thefe writers commonly deform 
 their pages with every antiquated phrafe which perverted 
 induftry can difcover ; and it would not be difficult, 
 though indeed invidious and ufelefs, to point out paffages 
 where vulgarity itfelf is evidently mifunderllood and mif- 
 applied. 
 
 When a man of fenfe intends to publifh in rhyme, he 
 will firft make hi- ""If familiar with at lead a few of the 
 beft and mofl popular Englifh poets. By an attentive 
 comparifon of their works with his own, he will either 
 learn the art of elegant compofition, or the propriety of 
 filence. When a perfon difcharges upon the public a vo- 
 lume of dull and tirefome verfes, it is charitable to be- 
 lieve he is unacquainted with Swift and Dryden. In 
 knowledge of books, the clafs of poets I mention are fbmc
 
 REMARKS OM SCOTS POETRY. f 
 
 limes deficient ; and thus between artificial groflhefs and 
 actual ignorance, there is no wonder that they often fall 
 fhort of perfection. Jt is indeed a principal argument with 
 their admirers, thajt a poet of true genius does not require 
 the help of learning. The author of a quaint efTay on ori- 
 ginal compofition feems inclined to fanctify this chimera. 
 But Horace more properly fays, u I neither fee what learn- 
 " ing can accomplifli without genius, or genius without 
 learning." 
 
 The advocates of ignorance have adduced Shakefpeare as 
 an example of uncultivated excellence ; but thofe critics 
 talk at random who aflert him to have been illiterate. 
 He underftood both French and Latin, though perhaps 
 imperfectly. His extenfive acquaintance with ancient and 
 modern hiflory, and the completencfs of his ideas on every 
 fubject, atteft, with a force far beyond the parade of ci- 
 tations, that lie mufl have been a very diligent reader. 
 When he reprefents Bohemia as a maritime country*, and 
 an Illyrian as referring to "the bells of St. Bennett," we 
 can only fuppofe that he was fporting with his audience. 
 His ftyle alfo, wherever he chufes to exert himfelf, is 
 more various, more nervous, ani ( ->ore elegant, than that 
 of any Englifh writer of the fixtj Century. 
 
 Of poets in the Scottifli dialect, the befl and greateft, 
 beyond all companion, is Allan Ramfay. He appears to 
 have ftudied Dryden's works with much attention, iince 
 his verfes flow with the moil pleaCng volubility. His 
 provincial phrafes are few, when compared with thofe of 
 fome of his imitators; and at leafl in the Gentle Shepherd, 
 h has felected them with fuch dexterity that they are al- 
 jnoft equally familiar in every part of the kingdom. But 
 this is only a fecondary part of its iiicnc. A vein of folid 
 good fcnfe, a nice difcrimnation of character, a nervous 
 elegance, and a pathetic fimplicity of exprtflion ; in a 
 word, the genuine language of nature, of paflion, and of 
 poetry,, place this pafloral comedy almoft beyond our 
 praife. From the chemift and aftronomer, to the girl at 
 Winter's Tale. f Twelfth Night. 
 
 i F
 
 fe REMARKS ON SCOTS POETHT. 
 
 her fpinning-wheel, the poet's eloquence kindles every 
 heart, and irrefiftibly commands our tears. It is true 
 that we have here no bawdry, no jealous alderman 
 cuckolded, no amorous fuicide, no wire-drawn fohlo- 
 quy, no pedantic ill -jointed epithet, no raving defpot, 
 fuch as never exifted but in the frenzy of a modern play 
 wright. But the Gentle 'Shepherd does nor reft its repu- 
 tation on the caprice of a theatrical audience. Were all 
 the copies of Ramfay's comedy annihilated, the grateful 
 memories of his countrymen would eagerly fupply the 
 lofs. Many of his readers have almoft the whole poem 
 by heart ; and what other Scottifh author can pretend to 
 fuch indelible admiration ? 
 
 It has been faid, that Ramfay did not write this play ; 
 and when that ftory was no longer tenable, it has been 
 loudly affirmed, that at leaft a great part of it was writ- 
 ten by fomebody elfe ; and the whole corrected by gen- 
 tlemen who were the author's patrons. The word patron 
 is pronounced, by men of fenfe, with a tone of contemp- 
 tuous pity. If thefe critics fuggefted any proper altera- 
 tions, this feems to have been the only adl of benevolence 
 which they beftowed on the author ; for, in the proper 
 flyle of patronage, they fuffered him to live poor, and die 
 bankrupt*. 
 
 In Scotland, the firft circulating library was kept by 
 Allan Ramfay. His original profeffion is often mention- 
 ed by himfelf ; and to thofe who are weak enough to de- 
 fpife it, we may reply that Ramfay " was not a man who 
 " could mean by a mean employment." 
 
 T. T. 
 
 His debts were afterwards paid by hi$ fon, the famous 
 painter.
 
 C 6 S ] 
 
 THE LAW SUIT. 
 
 A TALK* 
 
 raoM BUCHANAN, LIB. i. rnc. t. 
 
 CALENUS, when his purfc was light, 
 
 Got twenty guineas as a lo*an, 
 Swearing he would repair his plight, 
 
 And pay me e'er a week was gone. 
 
 A year went off, the lawyer Aulus i 
 
 Perfuades me to commence a fuit, 
 
 Crying, " the rafcal /han't cajole us, 
 u His bond, Sir, cannot bear difpute I" 
 
 But lo ! this paper war has lafted 
 Longer than Homer's fiege of Troy; 
 
 Ten times my debt has Aulus wafted x 
 And ten times more would fain deftroy. 
 
 Now, Cnce I'm not fo rich as Clive r 
 Nor yet for Neftor's age defign'd, 
 
 I'll quit the combat while alive, 
 
 Nor force my heir to purchafe wind. 
 
 Calenus, at the triple tree, 
 
 Ought furely his fuccefs to tell; 
 
 But Aulus, no fufficient fee 
 
 Can hope for till he reaches hell. 
 
 Wherever fuch attornies trudge, 
 
 Who mountains on a wart have thrown, 
 
 By all that's juft ! my lord the judge, 
 Mu ft dive a ftory farther down.
 
 C 6 4 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF A WIFE. 
 
 A WIFE, you fay is an expensive toy, 
 But, wanting coft, we cannot purchafe joy; 
 The richeft mifer muft remain in rags, 
 Unlefs he condefcend to loofe his bags; 
 The thread-bare bard, a coach \vho cannot hire, 
 Is fain to ftradJle through December's mire; 
 And he, whofe income won't extend to port, 
 To the more frugal ale-houfs muft refort. 
 Before a doclor takes the pains to kill, 
 His patient's purfe muft pay for every pill: 
 A Britifh Premier too muft bribe the boufe, 
 Before they'll vote his Majefty a fous. 
 At church, you know, as well as at the play, 
 We cannot have a feat unlefs we pay; 
 And you and I, till fome few pence are given, 
 Muft like two fpaniels from the pew be driven j 
 Nor gain one glimpfe of glory, or of grace, 
 Ere firft we buy \hefreedom cf the place. 
 Tor all commodities a price is paid, 
 Why, then, refufe your money for a maid? 
 A wife, you fay, deftroys domeftic eafe, 
 You cannot then do juft whate'er you pleafe. 
 But tell me truly, when a fool is drunk, 
 And all his fenfes in the liquor funk, 
 Shall he be fuffer'd to difturb the ftreets^ 
 And bruife with every vagabond he meets? 
 Embrace infection, founder in the mire, 
 Or, reeling'homeward fet his houfe on fire? 
 Far better fate attends the happy man 
 Who weds a mate as early as he can: 
 His faithful fpouf&his every want attends 
 (One fpoufe is worth ten thoufand bottle-friends); 
 She natters, ftrips, and rolls him into bed, 
 Then binds a fillet round his achh}g_heacii .
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF A WIFE. 
 
 She covers, carefully, each wearied limb, 
 For all her wimes centre but in him; 
 And, while coherently to curfe he tries, 
 The briny mower comes buriling from her eyes. 
 In humble tone me ventures to complain, 
 He fwore lafl night he ne'er would foak again; 
 Reminds him that he plays a thoughtlefs party 
 And hints what agonies have wrung her heart. 
 Then which all other mortals would defpife, 
 Befide her hopeful hufband down me lies. 
 But left his horrid breath may do her harm, 
 She clings behind, to keep his moulders warm. 
 
 A wife, befides, will bring you girls and boys;; 
 And though the monkies make incelTant noife, 
 Though other children's din you cannot bear, 
 Yet theirs, believe me, wont annoy your ear. 
 None but an actual father ever knows 
 With what fond joy a father's heart overflows, 
 To fee all Lilliput frifk up and down,. 
 When every look reminds him of his own, 
 Or her's, who, in the fummer days of youth, 
 Taught him the charms of tendernefs and truth. 
 
 And are you fick ? 'Tis then her actions prove 
 (No words can paint) the frenzy of her love: 
 'Tis then the grandeur of her foul mines forth, 
 Then firfl you learn the vaflnefs of her "worth. 
 Your kindefl comrades in attendance fail,- 
 For all muft weary of a fick man's tale; 
 But, night and day, me ftill is at your fide, 
 More foft, more charming far, than when a bride; 
 For though corroding cares her bloom deflroy, 
 Her generous love excites fuperior joy. 
 She watches every motion of your eye, 
 Your every want impatient to fupply. 
 Affected fmiles conceal her inward care, 
 Hopelefs herfelf, yet checking your defpair; 
 While oft, in fpite of all her female art, 
 A figb efcaping, cuts you to the heart. 
 
 Fiij
 
 66 ON THE CHARACTER OF A lYlFr. 
 
 Hovr cold mere Friendfhip, when compar'd to this; 
 Without fuch women, what were human blifs. 
 
 And fhould, as it may happen, Fortune frown, 
 And from the height of greatnefs hurl you down, 
 When every friend, as ufual, turns his back, 
 And your foul lingers on the mental rack ; 
 When every infult muft be cooly borne, 
 The pedant's pity, and the rival's fcorn ; 
 When thofe you trufted, their connections change, 
 And thofe who hate you, give refentment range; 
 When every look, where e'er you fhew your head, 
 Is fure to make you feel " your kingdom's fled;" 
 When fordid Prudence fliffens every face, 
 And every tongue exults in your difgrace ; * 
 At fuch a time, does female friendfhip fail ? 
 Jfo; me herfelf attends you to the jail. 
 Such friendfhip cheaply with a world were bought; 
 Her bofom jaft admits one fingle thought. 
 Your peace of mind me breathes but to purfue, 
 Vor dreads a dungeon to be fhar'd with you. 
 
 She, too, when death arrives to your relief, 
 Shall watch its progrefs with the purefl grief; 
 Perform each duty that diftrefs can crave, 
 And, with fond tears bedew her hufband's grave; 
 And flill, with you, her tender mem'ry teems, 
 Still your loVd image haunts her broken dreams, 
 And blafts each phantom of returning peace, 
 Till Heav'n, in pity, gives her own releafe. 
 
 Such are the fex we modeflly defpife, 
 Arid fuch the fools whom every fool decries. 
 
 To this you anfwer with a fcornful fmile, 
 That common fenfe adopts a colder flyle; 
 That many a wife turns out fo very bad, 
 As foon to drive the tamefl partner mad. 
 The fcrub, who bargains for a mafs of gold, 
 May catch, no doubt, a ilattern or a fcold. 
 
 * No paflage, in any writer, can be more inftm&ive or inte- 
 refting, thanthe fallof the Dukeof Sully, as defcribcdbyhimCelf.
 
 ON HEADING MEMOIRS OP FREDERICK III. 
 
 The brute whofe paffion is but rank defire, 
 May feel ten days exhauft his carnal fire. 
 The faol who marries for the fake of wit, 
 Is fure to find himfelf feverely bit; 
 And he who feeks a fpoufe of noble blood, 
 Muft bear with patience, lectures long and loud- 
 But men of fenfe, with reafon, hope to find 
 A graceful perfon, with a modeft mind; 
 Whofe various charms we ever muft admire*. 
 At once the choice of wifdom and defire; 
 And for mere merit, if you fearch around y 
 Believe me, that is always to be found. 
 The fureft rules for chufmg fuch a mate,. 
 Would furnifh topics for a fine debate ;J 
 But, left the fpirit of the verfe expire, 
 Your preacher, for the prefent, mail retire. 
 
 ON 
 
 READING MEMOIRS OF FREDERICK III. 
 
 BY JOSEPH TOWE1S, L. L. D. 
 
 A CLOVD of books o'erwhelms the prefent day y 
 Worthless alike of cenfure and ofpraife; 
 Where not a fingle fentence in the whole 
 Exifts, but what the wretched Grub hath ftole: 
 Or home-bred nonefenfe mould he rafhly fquirt y 
 The pilfered diamond fparkles through his dirt. 
 What indignation muft each fcholar feel, 
 When Plutarch's limbs are broke upon the wheel j 
 When fweet Herodotus our ears hath tir'd, 
 And nervous Salluft is no more admir'd; 
 Sublime Thucydides his murther mournsy 
 And fage Polybius to a dotard turns,
 
 8 ON READING MEMOIRS OF FREDERIC* III. 
 
 The heart, when Xenophon forbears to win, 
 And lively Juftinflumbers in Rollin. * 
 
 While thefe reflections had begun to rife, 
 A frefh delinquent rufli'd upon our eyes ; 
 Twelve hundred pages pouring from the prefs, 
 Revile the benefactor kingdoms blefs. 
 On martial worth, if Slander muft await. 
 What future monarch mall contend with Fate ? 
 Had Frederick's heroes gain'd no higher fame, 
 Than this poor pamphleteer has right to claim,. 
 Poland as yet had unpartition'd been, 
 Silefia Hill obey 1 d her bigot Queen; 
 Nor Prague's wide bofom blaz'd with Pruffian fire, 
 Nor Daun from Torgan hailed to retire. 
 His portrait had not mock'd each dauber's hand, 
 Nor o'er thefe heavy volumes, Patience yawn'd.f 
 
 Robertfon's Hiftory of Greece may be quoted as a pleafing; 
 exception to this general cenfure. 
 
 f When this Prince fucceeded to his father, the Pruffian do- 
 minions did not contain two millions and a half of inhabitants. 
 At his death, after a reign of forty-fix years, the number exceed- 
 ed four millions ; befides above two millions in the provinces of 
 Silefia and Pomerellia. And fo much at eafe do the peafantry feel 
 themfelves, that the annual number of births furpafies that of 
 burials, by upwards of fifty thoufand. Baron Trenck is an un- 
 fufpe<fled witnefs to the rapid increafe in every fort of improve- 
 ment, as well as population. He informs us, that after the feven 
 years war, the King rebuilt every farm houfe in Eaftern Pruffia, 
 which had been burnt by the enemy, except that of the Baron's 
 fifter. When we have reflected that he had, at this time, but 
 j'uft ended a third bloody war in which his armies had fought 
 nineteen battles; that his capital had been plundered with every 
 circumftance of barbarous rapacity; that almoft every parifli 
 in his provinces had been a fcene of carnage and devaftation ; 
 that he had not added a fingle impoft, nor borrowed a fingle 
 fhilling ; we may then, with what grace we can, condemn him 
 as a hateful tyrant. 
 
 The jufticeof his title to Silefia has been difputed; but thePro- 
 teftant inhabitants of that oppreffed province received him as *
 
 ON NOTHING. 
 
 I HARDLY now with patience hear 
 
 The metaphyfics of the fchools, 
 For mankind I fincerely fear, 
 
 Are frequently fuch knaves or fools, 
 Their talents are not worth attaining, 
 Far lefs their pafTions worth explaining* 
 
 A j.oint of juicy roafled beef, 
 
 A dozen of October ale, 
 Give us more fenfible relief, 
 
 Than reveries fo vague and flale, 
 About the origin or nature, 
 Of fuch a {hallow fordid creature. 
 
 Try, Sir, to make us honefl men, 
 In fpite of all the devil's doing; 
 
 deliverer. And is there now any Briton who wifiies to fee it 
 revert to the houfe of Auftria? In Pomerellia, he began his ca- 
 reer, by erecting one hundred and eighty fchools,' as he him* 
 felf tells us in a letter to D'Alembert; and the only objeft of re- 
 gret with men of fenfe is, that he did not acquire poffelfion of 
 the whole kingdom. 
 
 That he had fome faults, we know ; but has the reader feen 
 or heard of a chara&er WITHOUT FAULTS? 
 
 " Before fuch merit, all objections fly, 
 
 " Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick fix foot high." 
 
 That he was the firft general and ftatefman of his age, is i 
 trite truth. That he was a patron of literature, is not the leaft 
 honourable part of his praife. In the latter part of his reign, 
 when prefent at the performance of a French tragedy, " I would 
 cot," he cried, " exchange the glory of writing ZARA for all my, 
 " victories. "
 
 THE WINTER DAT 
 
 Convince impoftors by your pen, 
 That roguery mufl end in ruin: 
 But never take a random flight, 
 To prove that every thing is right. 
 
 THE WINTER DAY } 
 
 OR, 
 A PROSPECT OF UEE. 
 
 THE top of tall Arthur* {lands cover'd with fnow, 
 
 The verdure lies hid in the vale, 
 Her wood-notes no more from the linnet mall flow, 
 
 And the goldfinch forgets his fond tale. 
 
 The fun feems afraid from his iky to look forth,. 
 
 " Elder night 1 ' now revolts from his fway ; 
 All the hail hoarded up in the terrible north, 
 
 Pours down in a tempeft to-day, f 
 
 How many poor fhepherds expire with their fheep ; 
 
 O J . how (hall December be borne, 
 Let us think of the ftorms which convulfed the deepj 
 
 When Anfon furrounded Cape Horn. | 
 
 See the Wolfey of Ruffia projected from power, 
 
 At Z embla to wander and die ; 
 He receives in his bofom the rage of the mower, 
 
 While ambition yet lours in his eye. 
 
 * An eminence near Edinburgh. -f- Dec. 37, 1783; 
 
 \ Mr. Thomas Pafcoe, a teacher of mathematicks on board of 
 the Centurion, printed an account of this voyage. It contains ma- 
 *>y very curious particulars omittd by Mr. Walter; they ought 
 to be extracted, and fubjoined to the next edition of his narrative-. 
 As the book is extremely fcarce, this improvement may in a few 
 years be impracticable. 
 
 " The Czar banifhes you to a town under the Pole, and his 
 " fublime generofity allows you twopence a-day." 
 
 VOLTAIRE'S Hiftory of Ruflla.
 
 OR, A PROSPECT OF LIFE. 71 
 
 The favage of Greenland now fhrinks in his cavt, 
 
 From the froft of his long winter night ; 
 For a dungeon more horrible far than the grave, 
 
 He mull lofe all the blellings of light. 
 
 Then cold as it is, we'll be thankful for home, 
 
 T.O the focial fire fide we'll refort, 
 And defy all the cares that to-morrow may come, 
 
 With a catch and a bumper of port. 
 
 We'll forget for one evening that mankind are knave*, 
 
 The fordid adorers of pelf ; 
 That our friend <witb whatever grimace be behaves^ 
 
 Is only concerned for himfelf j 
 
 That the beggar we feed, from our forrows will fly, 
 
 Exulting they are not his own; 
 But we'll never forget, that ere long we mufl die, 
 
 And anfwer for all we have done. 
 
 Our life is at beft but a long winter day, 
 
 Hope at morn blows the bloflbm of joy, 
 But the blaft of Misfortune foon fweeps it away, 
 
 Or poffeffion compells us to cloy. 
 
 'Tis thus the poor maid whofe too fenfible heart 
 
 Diffolves in the frenzy of love, 
 Will fcorn to be told her adorer has art, 
 
 And the worft of all tyrants may prove. 
 
 The fond aged father, who lives but to form 
 
 The mind of his favourite heir, 
 Sees the demon Ingratitude treble the ftorm, 
 
 And tear down his lafl fence from defpair. 
 
 The hard hearted landlord who racks every fchemc, 
 His unhappy dependents to fleece,
 
 J1 THE WINTER DAY; 
 
 Will find with confufion, he plays the wrong game. 
 For guilt is a ftranger to peace. 
 
 Infallible Johnfon whofc laws we now hear, 
 
 With the reverence due to his name, 
 At his trade had fpent many a comfortlefs year, 
 
 Ere he crawl'dto the fummitof fame. 
 
 And though, when for want of a /hilling diftrefs'd, 
 
 They would fcarce let him enter their door; 
 The patrons of verfe are now forward to feaft 
 
 The bard they neglected before. 
 
 Poor Chatterton taught by each eloquent mufe, 
 
 With pity to moiften the eye, 
 Prefum'd his admirers would blufh to .refufc 
 
 Unfortunate worth fome fupply. 
 
 But a fage moral author deny'd with difdain, 
 
 The requefl of the marvellous boy; 
 For petrified pedants are proud to explaio., 
 
 The pleafures they dare not -enjoy. 
 
 Had the forger been born to five thoufand a-year, 
 
 Peevim Walpole had echo'd his name;. 
 And fummonM all England with raptures to hear, 
 
 This victim of hunger and fame.* 
 
 " Mr. "Walpole's apology for his conduft, has been coldly receiv- 
 ed by the public ; but, the proper apology is, that not one perfon 
 in fifty would have behaved better. The ftory may be fhortly 
 ftated thus. The fon of a poor widow under indentures to an at- 
 torney, employs his leifure time in literary purfuits. Feeling 
 within himlelf the germ of genius, and perhaps of generofity, he 
 forms a plaufible fcheme of applying for that protection fo eflen- 
 tial to fuccefs, to a quarter where a young man unacquainted 
 with the world would have been moil likely to expeft it. Mr. 
 Walpole, himfelf, an admirable writer, and a judge of tafte a 
 bove exception, reads over the verfes; and ia the paper referred
 
 OR, A PROSPECT Or LIFE. 73 
 
 But he who wants money will always want fenfe, 
 
 In the grovelling efleem of the croud, 
 And he who is amply provided with pence, 
 
 Of happinefs needs not be proud: 
 
 Since all ranks and ages alike muft prepare, 
 
 For a courfe in Adverfity's fchoolj 
 And that giddy novice who never was there$ 
 
 Till then muft continue a fool. 
 
 The full flowing bowl may infpire us to brave 
 
 Rude winter's peftiferous breath, 
 But when mall bright morning arife in the grave, 
 
 And bu*ft the dark prifon of death. 
 
 The fnow will foon melt and the fumrner return. 
 
 And the lambkins will balk in the fold; 
 But when mall each breaft with benevolence burn, 
 
 And Charity blufh to be cold ? 
 
 Yet the man who enjoying a generous tear 
 
 Neglects not his partner in woe, 
 Shall be amply repaid for his ten.' :fs here,' 
 
 With all which kind Heaven can beftow. 
 
 And who can imagine what Infinite Love 
 
 Has refervM in the world for to come, 
 No Columbus returns from the regions above, 
 
 And Shakefpeare lies mute in his tomb. 
 
 to, pronounces Chatterton to have poflefled abilities of an aftoniflt- 
 ing magnitude. But, what anfwer does he give to the poor wi- 
 dow's fon? " I can do nothiug to ferve yOu." Such is the re- 
 ception that dependent merit may always expeft to meet with, 
 till chance, or perhaps impudence, has buoyed it into notice, and 
 then the great patronize from vanity. 
 
 z G
 
 C 74 ] 
 BUCHANAN, LIB. III. EPIC. L 
 
 FOR heavy crops the farmer prays, 
 The tradefman but for cent, per cent. 
 
 The bard would rival Shakefpeare's lays, 
 The gambler gain the fums he's fpent. 
 
 The bed-rid viflim begs but eafe; 
 
 A place repels the patriot's whim; 
 The parfon thunders for his fees ; 
 
 The furgeon fcents a fradlur'd limb. 
 
 With me the utmoft fate can give, 
 The greateft blifs I dare conjecture, 
 
 Is only" Long may * * * * live, 
 44 Merit's munificent protedor.",, 
 
 HORACE, LIB. III. ODE XXVI. 
 
 ONCE a buck of high renown, 
 The art of love was all my own; 
 My locks were always a-la-mode^ 
 My paffion prattled in an ode. 
 I led the fair to balls and plays, 
 And wafted time a thoufand ways; 
 But now the fpring of life is o'er, 
 And all fuch folly fits no more. 
 
 Nay, worfe, I'm mofl completely tir'd 
 Of all the books I moil admir'd. 
 I laugh at Eloife Nouvelle, 
 And hate to hear of Marmonttlj
 
 AN EL^GY. 7J 
 
 No time on Telemaque I wafte : 
 Such is theprogrefs of my tafle.j 
 
 Nor needs the fatal change furprife, 
 Since wedlock every want fupplies, 
 Confounds me with a million more 
 I never heard about before, 
 Sucks all the vigour from my veins. 
 And purfe and perfon duly drains* 
 
 AN ELEGY. 
 From the Latin tfPolitian. 
 
 IF, when they quit the prefent fcene, 
 Our fouls are confcious to the paft, 
 
 And, through the fhades which intervene, 
 A look of fond remembrance call, 
 
 My dearefl boy ! fupport me now ; 
 
 Wipe off this vain rebellious tear; 
 Replace compofure on my brow; 
 
 Teach me this piercing flroke to bear. 
 
 While Clent midnight flirouds the iky, 
 When oft as beauty's bards have faid, 
 
 Gleams on the pale feducer's eye, 
 The form of her his- vows betray'd: 
 
 Ah ! leave the regions of the bleft; 
 
 Revifit this devoted earth; 
 Aid me in foothing into reft 
 
 That injur'd girl who gave thee birth. 
 
 Though, fmce Affli&ion's helplefs heir, 
 Her trefpafs holy fpite reprov'd, 
 
 Gi)
 
 She once, Iblufti not to declare, 
 Like thee, was lovely and belov'd. 
 
 Let pedants, whofe unfocial nerves 
 Nature's firft irapulfe ne'er could fire, 
 
 Whofe frigid virtue never fwerves 
 From what Discretion's rules require i 
 
 From every vulgar failing free, 
 
 Let them deleft me, if they can; 
 I neither feek, nor wifh to fee 
 
 A mortal more, or lefs than man. 
 
 Whate'er a father's pride could afle 
 Was center'd in thy infant charms; 
 
 Each dream reflores my pleating talk, 
 And fancy feels thy clafping arms. 
 
 Again to view thy features rife, 
 
 Again thy prattle lulls my ear, 
 While prompt imagination eyes 
 
 The childifh laugh, the childifli tear. 
 
 A gufh of joy o'erwhelms my breaft; 
 
 Starting, to prefs me clofe to thine, 
 I wake let him defcribe the reft, 
 
 Who knows an agony like mine. 
 
 To parents death diftra&s not yet, 
 
 Whofe hearts have ne'er like ours been wrung, 
 Whifper that pity mould forget 
 
 What paffion forces from my tongue. 
 
 When me, whofe tortures mock my foul, 
 
 Is to her early grave confign'd, 
 My victim's tender cares controul^ 
 
 Tell her, I dread to ftay behind.
 
 C 77 
 
 A HINT FOR COUNTRY GENTLEMEN. 
 
 A MAN ambitious to do ill, 
 Who hath at once the power and will, 
 Can always find a fair pretence 
 In juftice, law, and common fenfe, 
 To grind the faces of the poor, . 
 And turn his tenants to the door ; 
 To flop the flarving orphan's plough, 
 And kilUfor rent, the widow's cow. 
 
 For all fuch gentlemen as thefe 
 (They may depend on't, if they pleafe,) 
 A fpacious elegant Cbateau^ 
 Hath long been fitted up below; 
 The landlord.there, will fcorn to fleece, 
 Or flrip his lodgers of their leafe. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE f. 
 
 To lively Horace we allow, 
 
 The human heart was known ; 
 And each of us, he fays, purfue 
 
 Some caprice of our own. 
 
 One never thinks a horfe too dear,. 
 
 Whatever fum he coft ; 
 And fcorns to halt in his career. 
 
 Till every farthing's loft.. 
 
 Another on his gallant cocks 
 
 Will venture an eflate, 
 While a third cully cogs the box 3 
 
 And dice decide his fate, 
 
 Giij
 
 78 HORACE, MB. i. ODE r. IMITATED* 
 
 The parrot of the ftage afplres 
 
 To entertain the pit; 
 The punfter in a huff retires 
 
 When you decline his wit. 
 
 But all the bullion of Peru, 
 
 Would hardly make him fly 
 Through fire and blood, with Rodney's crew 7 
 
 To vanquifh or to die. 
 
 The fmuggler when a tempefl blows, 
 
 Is happy to retreat; 
 Commends a farmer's life, and goes 
 
 To view his country feat. 
 
 But when the hurricane is o'er, 
 
 Repairs his fhatter'd fhip; 
 Can ruft in idlenefa no more, 
 
 And rufhes on the deep. 
 
 Another with ferocious joy, 
 
 The din of battle hears ; 
 And flies impatient to deflroy, 
 
 Nor minds his mother's tears. 
 
 Monfieur, we notice in his look, 
 
 Would always dance and caper j 
 The parfon, for the paflry cook 
 
 Prints mountains of wafle paper. 
 
 And each of thefe good folks defpife, 
 
 The foibles of the reft, 
 Prefume themfelves fupremely wife, 
 
 Their neighbours but a jeft. 
 
 Thus, in the Parliament you bawl, 
 
 Which is but lofing time ; 
 And wonder I pretend to fcrawl 
 
 Such quantities of rhyme.
 
 C 77 3 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE II, 
 
 WRITTEN IN JANUARY 1784. 
 
 SUCH dreadful mowers of hail and fnow 
 
 Have uflierM in the prefent year, 
 Such ilorms above, and floods below, 
 That pious folks began to fear 
 
 All Nature would have gone to wrack y 
 And Noah's days were coming back. 
 
 It muft have been an awful fight 
 
 To fee another ark begun, 
 The clumfy oftrich take her flight, 
 And elephants from India run 
 
 To Calais; and, from thence to Dover, 
 With the firfl ferry-boat fly over ; 
 
 And then how queer to fee them all 
 
 Parading on the banks of Thames; 
 The rat, rhinoceros, jackall, 
 
 So ready when they heard their names; 
 The flag and panther flapping near, 
 And fheep, no wolf attempts to tear. 
 
 And now, fuppofe the deluge come, 
 The fcaly monfters leave the fea, 
 Along our verdant meadows roam, 
 The fhark entangled in a tree; 
 
 And, where a Chatham fir'd the foul, 
 Their flimy bulk the dolphins roll. 
 
 Where a plump alderman of old, 
 His turtle and roaft beef took in,
 
 fo HORACE, LIB. I. ODE HI. IMITATED- 
 
 The hippopotamus makes bold, 
 JFor provender to give a grin ; 
 
 In fearch of herrings while the whale 
 A premier's levee room mall fcale. 
 
 And, fure, if any former nation 
 
 Has ever met with fuch a doom, 
 Well may the prefent generation 
 Be looking for a wat'ry tomb : 
 
 Methufalem's, though woeful times, 
 Were ignorant of half our crimes. 
 
 Our bankrupt fons will hear, with mamc, 
 
 The bitter tale of Englifh glory, 
 And, while our debts enfure our fame, 
 Sincerely curfe both Whig and Tory ; 
 And pity and defpife the quarrels, 
 Which cofl fo dear for North and Charles. 
 
 But what expedient mall we try 
 
 To tear us from the jaws of ruin?. 
 Alas ! what patriot can deny, 
 His zeal promoted our undoing? 
 
 One party made all mankind foes, 
 The other triumph' d in our woes. 
 
 Let Pitt remove each rotten borough, 
 
 And lay the land-tax fairly on, 
 Raife Bengal from her prefent forrow,- 
 For Ireland's injuries atone; 
 
 And then all Europe mail exclaim, 
 
 " This youth tranfcends his father's fame!' 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE III. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 O SHIP, thou bearer of my better part, 
 
 The man whole friendship long has fix'd my heart.
 
 HORACE LIB. I. ODE I IT. IMITATED. Si 
 
 Hear, if thou ean'jft, his abfence how I mourn, 
 
 And grant my friend a fortunate return. 
 
 And may kind Fate protect and fheltcr thee, 
 
 From all the perils of the raging fea; 
 
 Where winds and waves inceflant florm and roar, 
 
 And thtrufands hourly fink to rife no more. 
 
 And fure his heart was fheath'd in threefold brafs, 
 Who tirfl prefunVd the frowning deep to pafs; 
 Who pufh'd his leaky pinnace from the ftrand, 
 Forc'd his faint crew to quit the fight of land, 
 And, on his keel, acrofs the billows fly, 
 While their blue bofom hid the bending iky ; 
 Each trembling plank fcarce ftemnVd the ftream beneath, 
 And every blafl befpoke defcending death. 
 
 yWhatform of danger needs his foul affright, 
 Who refts his hoaefl pride on acting right? 
 He knows that life, at beft, is but a ftorm, 
 That fome foul fqualls the fineft day deform ; 
 He knows a generous Judge furveys him here, 
 Who tries his fav'rites by a fate fevere. 
 In vain the tempeft howls, the waves are broke, 
 Collected in himfelf he meets the mock; 
 Secure alike below the burning zone, 
 And where grim Winter grafps a world his own; 
 Where ancient Night extends her flill domain, 
 And blafted vegetation buds in vain. 
 
 With what a fhock the froft-bound ocean rends, 
 When through the arctic night the long loft fun afcends ; 
 The bleak hills hear the diftant echo rife, 
 The veffels {hatter, and the feamen's cries; 
 The cloud topt fragments cleave the foaming flood, 
 The ruins cram, the feals are bath'd in blood; 
 How loud, how terrible the furges fweep, 
 While the huge whales plunge trembling down the deep* 
 
 Not all this hoard of dangers, can reftrain, 
 Ram man from roving o'er the rifted main j 
 The barriers fix'd by Fate we dare defy, 
 And court the vengeance of that horrid iky*
 
 82 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE III. 1MATATED, 
 
 As if wide ocean gave too little room, 
 
 We proudly try to pierce the polar gloom, 
 
 To bathe it's bulky monflers in their blood, 
 
 And from its wretched fons to force their wretched food.* 
 
 In vain Almighty Goodnefs had defign'd 
 The fea to check the quarrels of mankind ; 
 The broad Atlantic flops our arms no more, 
 And guiltlefa blood now flreams em every fhore. 
 Columbus firft, and Gama led the way, 
 And walled empires all their toil repay ; 
 Who has not heard what more than wonted crimes 
 Have damnM our conquefls in the weftern climes. 
 Let blufhing hiftory with tears atteft, 
 That Cuba's fons were once completely blefl; 
 Unknown to care, they danc'd their time away, 
 And every wifh was innocent and gay.] 
 But when our pirates on their coaft appear'd,1 
 And Murther's cry the helplefs victims heard,. 
 Then welcome death allowM a quick releafe, 
 The new made wildernefs was humM to peace, 
 The proud oppreflbr (heath' d his reeking blade, 
 And Rapine mourn' d the wafle herfelf had made. 
 
 Nor let old England with abfurd difdain, 
 For deeds like thefe infult atrocious Spain; 
 Since, in the tafk of fcourging human kind, 
 Calm Truth can hardly rank us far behind. 
 Our monks like theirs have lighted many a fire, 
 Where holy fools were eager to expire: 
 Like them we trembled at a tyrant's frown, 
 Till daring Hampden tore the puppet down. 
 See! every tie of faith and mercy broke, 
 Ill-fated Bengal bleed beneath our yoke. 
 
 * The number of the poor inhabitants of Greenland is daily 
 d'miniuiing, in confequence of the definition of their marine 
 animals, by adventurers from happier climates. See Goldfmith's 
 Natural Hiftory, VoL IV. p. 182.
 
 ROKACE, LIB. I. ODE III. IMITATED. 8j 
 
 Its ample fpoils impell'd us to renew 
 The dreadful fcenes once adted in Peru. * 
 Whatever bafenefs can degrade mankind, 
 Whatever Cade or Cataline defign'd, 
 Whatever outrage Rome's red flreets deform'd, 
 When Sylla rul'd her, or when Bourbon florm'd, 
 Whatever Timur did to win a throne, 
 Or faith-defending Harry would have done, 
 All feems but nothing in our polim'd times, 
 Nor can our fons eclipfe our prefent crimes. 
 
 But foon the haplefs Indian faw repaid 
 The wrongs of thofe who chas'd him from his fhade ; 
 A new difeafe invades the fount of joy, 
 And fcorching funs the tyrant race deflroy. 
 With all the riches Potoli can boaft, 
 How few return from that polluted coafl ? 
 The planter (hrivels in the prime of life, 
 The injur'd negroe thrufts his deadly knife; 
 Here, while a tertian defolates around, 
 And Pain's laft pangs, poor human pride confound., 
 Lo there contending elements confpire, 
 Each black cloud burfting in a flieet of fire ; 
 And earth and ocean as diflblving rend, 
 While guilty cities down the gulf defcend. 
 
 And fure fince heaven is juft, the weflern fkie* 
 Shall fee, ere long, fome Spartacus arife, 
 To bid our flaves the Chriftian yoke difown, 
 And feize the land they labour as their own ; 
 Behold the hero burft Oppreffion's bands, 
 The blood of ruffians reeking on his hands ; 
 Hark how he echoes Freedom's honour'd name, 
 And boafls how vicYry vindicates his claim. 
 
 * Colonel Alexander Dow, an author of uncommon merit, af- 
 firms, that between the years 1765 and 1771, the province of 
 Bengal alone had loft five or fix millions of inhabitants.
 
 * THE MOXITOB. 
 
 See round their chief the jetty nation throngs ; 
 What horrid vengeance anfwers all their wrong*. 
 Extermination fleeps the trembling more; 
 Europa's robbers lift the lafh no more. 
 Vindictive Ju (lied fweeps the race eway ; 
 Our toil of ages perifh'd in a day. 
 
 Nothing fo wild which man will fear to try ; 
 From pole to pole in fearch of gold we fly; 
 Nor even contented to furround the globe, 
 Remotefl ocean of her fpoils we rob. * 
 Fearlefs we range below her gloomy deeps, 
 Where the keen fhark through purple flaughter fweeps; 
 And leaving eagles in their flight behind, 
 We foar above them on the fwelling wind. 
 We teach refifllefs lightning where to fly, 
 Nor dread to drown the thunders of the iky; 
 We tell cold Saturn's diflance from the Sun, 
 We count what orbs around his center run ; 
 We meafure all the ikies, fome air baloon 
 One day, who knows, may land us in the moon. 
 We long fince ventured with indecent ikilJ, 
 To trace the height of every lunar hill. 
 Our daring crimes the Deity offend, 
 Well might his thunder on our heads defcend; 
 Our folly yet inclines him to forgive, 
 The Judge of Nature pities and we live. 
 
 THE MONITOR. 
 
 "WiTH Spartan patience you can bear 
 
 The progrefs of another's pain, 
 Repel my head-ach with a fneer, 
 
 And count my fractures with difdain, 
 
 * The Diving Bell and other late difcoveries are pointed at, 
 which, as thej are familiar to every body, it would-be needlefs 
 t o recite.
 
 ON SHA.KESPEAPE. 
 
 Bat When the cafe becomes your own, 
 You feel 'tis quite a harder ftory; ' ; 
 
 The Hero, by a ball overthrown, 
 
 To heal his limbs would lofe his glory. 
 
 When I am Gck, you fagely wonder 
 My heart fhould turn at flops and pills? 
 
 My fon expires you bawl like thunder, 
 That death is but the leafl of ills. 
 
 When Beauty bids my bofom figh, 
 You preach that Beauty is but dufl ; 
 
 Some Hedlor's courage when I try, 
 You tell me where, and how, to thruft. 
 
 The quack may fmile to give injedlions, 
 Poltroons inform us how to fight, 
 
 On death your Vicar eke refleclions, 
 A balmy kifs the Book-worm flight. 
 
 To lecture, carp, and criticife, 
 
 Is fine amufement for a fool: 
 But though the weakeft may advife, 
 
 No wife man always walks by rule. 
 
 ON SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 WHOE'ER attempts like Shake fpearc to compofe. 
 Shall certainly his time and labour lofe; 
 Like thofe unwary fops who once, we know, 
 Effay'd to bend their abfent Monarch's bow.* 
 
 This mighty poet every key can hit, 
 Rife in the hero, rally in the wit ; 
 Each various particle of man has read, 
 From the proud palace to the peaceful fined j 
 
 Vid. Homer. 
 
 2 tt
 
 85 ON SHAKESPEAM, 
 
 And flill the paffing fcene fupports fo well, 
 You think 'tis there his talent muft excel. 
 -When the wrong'd Moore invokes his murder'd wife; 
 When doughty FalftafFrjans to fave his life ; 
 When honeft Brutus pleads the caufe of Rome, 
 And midnight hags foretel Macbeth his doom.; 
 When lively Benedict at marriage fneers, 
 And poor Ophelia fills your eye with tears ; 
 When fimple Timon finds himfelf too fond, 
 And Shylock claims the forfeit of his bond; 
 When moralizing Jacques fends forth a figh, 
 And gay Mercutio lets his fallies fly.; 
 Defdemona recites her virgin vows, 
 And arch Petruchio tames his rampant fpoufe-; 
 -When bloody Richard trembles at his dreams, 
 And Wolfey reads the wreck of all his fchemes ; 
 When John would hint what Hubert fliould perform, 
 And houfelefs Lear raves amidfl the ilorm.; 
 In what a blaze of eloquence he mines ! 
 How reafon opens, how the heart refines! 
 When Anthony, with more than magic fkill, 
 Compells the mob to weep o'er Csfar's will ; 
 When the proud Welchman, by his ally crofl, 
 Of fpells and prodigies pretends to boaft; 
 The fword of Douglas vindicates his name, 
 And dying Warwick points the path to fame. 
 In every page, we never fail to find 
 Inimitable pictures of mankind. 
 
 When Qmckly's rambling tongue attempts to fay, 
 How falfe Sir John had fix'd their wedding-day; 
 When the old Ruffian, in a ilrumpet's arms, 
 On Vice and Folly fquanders all his charms; 
 When Poins and Harry are compell'd to hear 
 What puppies, in his judgment, they appear; 
 When Hall's attack the bold difiembler turns, 
 And virtuous Tearfheel her plump pigeon fpurns; 
 Parolles braves the lam of public fcorn, 
 And frantic Ford holds up the fancy'd -horn ;
 
 ON SHAKESTEASE. 87 
 
 ?rom Hotfpur, Troilus, Hamlet, Romeo, down 
 
 To the dull Juftice and the gibing Clown;" 
 
 From the ftcrn victor at the Volfcian gate, 
 
 To Grumio's antics, and Malvolio's prate ^ 
 
 What vary'd features does his pencil yield ? 
 
 Puns in the bagnio, thunders o'er the field;' 
 
 What brilliant tints of character combine ! 
 
 How loudly Nature fpeaks in every line! 
 
 When Ajax murmurs, Therfites reviles;, 
 
 Grave Henry lectures, frank Menenius fmiles ; 
 
 When Ifabella kneels, pert Lucio lies, 
 
 And fad Conflantia for her Arthur cries ; 
 
 When Bottom fpouts,* and Buckingham difplays 
 
 Th' ufurper's birth-right in a peal of praife, 
 
 The blunt abruptnefs of the hardy Greek, 
 
 The fhrewd poltroon with blows compelled to fpeak, 
 
 The Monarch chearful till bis reign began^ 
 
 The forward, gay, facetious good old man, 
 
 The modeft, eloquent, unhappy maid, 
 
 The pleafing coxcomb by his chat betray'd, 
 
 The blockhead's ignorance, the mother's pangs, 
 
 The monk's chill comfort, the flate-quack's-harangues, 
 
 All in fucceflive vifion feem to rife, 
 
 Each chafle original arrefts OUT eyes: 
 
 A burft fo fplendid dazzles human thought, 
 
 And in his phantoms, Shakefpeare is forgot. 
 
 Down Fancy's torrent vanquifh'd Reafon glides, 
 
 Grief melts our bofoms, Lau-ghter aches our fides; 
 
 While pathos, truth, propriety, and art, 
 
 Strike blank amazement through the coldefl heart. 
 
 What centuries of rhyming mall have roll'd, 
 
 What crouds of Rowes and Congreves fate unfold, 
 
 A fecond Shakefpeare ere the world behold. 
 
 1 
 
 * The plan of the Rehearfal is borrowed from Shakefpeare, a. 
 circumftance which feems to have efcaped all his Commentators. 
 
 Hij
 
 [ 88 ] 
 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO A*** B***, ENQUIRE. 
 
 KIND Sir, you once defir'd to fee 
 A fpecimen of vcrfe from me ; 
 And though I rather might ha,ve chofe 
 To give my fentiments in pro^fe; 
 Yet fince, with many more in town, 
 Your tender goodnefs I muft own ; 
 Which neither length of time can tire, 
 Nor all the favours fools require, 
 From wit, that like a rum-light mines, 
 Accept thefe humble hobbling lines. 
 
 The Mufe would rather mount her hearfe, 
 Than ftrut, like Thompfon, through blank verfe ; 
 For, if ihe may your tafle oppofe, 
 'Tis fometimes neither verfe nor profe; 
 JJor dares me in Pindaric lays, 
 To publifh. her preceptor's praife. 
 She knows you pity and defpife 
 Bombaft adulatory lies : 
 And confcious that you hear with pain 
 Poor penfion'd Warton's woeful ftrain ; 
 That not a couplet will go down, 
 But naked fterling truth alone ; 
 That not a hint will be allowed 
 Of all the talents Fate beftow'd ; 
 In fhort, that, fhould I loofe my heart,. 
 Malice might fay, " 'tis all but art j" 
 I'm forc'd to whifper inter ioj, 
 Melpomene is at a lofs* 
 She dares not tell e'en what is true, 
 Or give your virtues half th'ir due; 
 And, if ihe has not room to play, 
 "What can your lucklefs Laureate fay.
 
 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP.. gg 
 
 We'll venture, as the fafeft fhift, 
 
 To imitate immortal Swift; 
 
 Put on the plainnefs of his ftyle, 
 
 And try, perhaps, to raife a fmile; 
 
 And fince his Worfhip was by nature 
 
 Lefs plentiful of praife than fatire, 
 
 And made it his unvaried courfe 
 
 To fcourge the world without remorfe, 
 
 We'll in the progrefs of our ditty 
 
 Expofe that wretch to fcorn and pity, 
 
 Who would not give a groat's dedu&ion 
 
 To fave his debtor from deftru&ion. 
 
 But of yourfelf we'll fay no more 
 
 Than all the world have faid before, 
 
 And coldly, as it were in jeft, 
 
 Some happier pen hall tell the reft. 
 Defcend great {hade ! and Oh! infpire 
 
 My bofom with thy matchlefs fire, 
 
 Thy wit fevere, thy fancy ftrong, 
 
 Thy common fenfe to point my fong ; 
 
 And with thee bring the Ladies nine, 
 
 To polifh each majeflic line. 
 
 Let u proper words in proper places"* 
 Supply the want of higher graces. 
 Our invocation thus performed. 
 The outworks of Parnr.ITus ftornvd ; 
 Apollo's poney climbs it's height, 
 And mounts, like Mafon, cut of fight. 
 Ye pViets paufc ! Ye fyftems bend! 
 While we above your fpheres afcend : 
 Soon mall ye hear fo fweet a fong, . 
 
 Your orbits will not hold you long ; 
 Your vaineft bigot nted not fmile 
 To hear me talk in fuch a ftyle ; 
 Ye cannot have forgot when Young 
 On Friendship, and Philander lung ; 
 
 Dr Swift gave this definition of a COJTC& ftyk. 
 Hiij
 
 go VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Your Seraphs liften'd with amaze, 
 And fairly yielded up the bays.* 
 
 The learned Philofophic Sages, 
 Who wrote and flarvM in ancient ages, 
 Were wond'rous proud to fay and fing, 
 What pleafures from true Friendfhip fpring; 
 That they alone of all mankind, 
 The road to happinefs could find; 
 That he who plays a generous part, 
 And wins one fympathizing heart, 
 O'er all the world fupremely blefl, 
 In calm felicity may reft: 
 This dodlrine all our bards avow, 
 And 'tis adopted, Sir, by you. 
 
 The man who never ow'd a fhilling, 
 May trull thefe vifions, if he's willing; 
 And fancy thofe who toaft the glafs, 
 To her they think his fav'rite lafs, 
 Who echo every word he fays, 
 And fweat him with infipid praife ; 
 Who fly to hail him in the ftreet, 
 And bow profoundly when they meet ; 
 
 The Editor has received from a correfpondent the follow- 
 ing note, which is inferted verbatim. 
 
 " Your panegyric on Dr. Young, may ^admit of much abate- 
 *' ment. From the works of this fingle author only, materials 
 *' might be furniflied for a fecond Rehearfal. The following 
 ' paflage, for example, is perhaps the moft nonfenfical in the 
 *' Englifh language. Alonzo addrefling Leonora, cries out 
 
 " Thofe eyes which tell us what the fun is made of ! 
 *' Thofe lips whofe touch 5s to be bought with life ! 
 ' Thofe heaps of driven fnow which feen are felt! 
 
 ' I have been prefent more than once in a London theatre, du- 
 ' ring the performance of the Revenge, and I have heard this 
 " horrid jargon, when embellifhed by a proper accent and ac- 
 * tion, receive the moft unbounded applaufe from every cornr 
 *' of the houfe."
 
 V3BSES ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 That fuch alone, of all the croud, 
 
 Would fpill for him their cleared blood; 
 
 His page with treble raptures read, 
 
 And fell their fhirts to buy him bread. 
 
 Yes ! were he humbled in the duft, 
 
 His- friends to merit would be juft, 
 
 Rejoice with him to fhare a throne, . 
 
 Nor think their empire lefs their own. 
 He never knew the power of pelf, 
 
 He deems them ferious like himfelf ; 
 
 He cannot guefs (good honeft man !) 
 
 Each fvcophant's perfidious plan. 
 
 To-day, the one a fum would borrow ; 
 The next expefts a place to-morrow ; 
 * And if, kind Sir, you'll fend a letter,. 
 1 His Lordlhip is, we know, your debtor ;- 
 ' And would not for a thoufand pounds 
 1 Tempt you to advertife his grounds ; 
 1 Or fell that fplendid houfe in town, 
 
 44 It's owner cannot call his own." 
 And thus it is the matter goes ; 
 
 Each fuitor leads him by the nofe. ' 
 
 A club, to ferve their dirty ends, 
 
 Prefume to call themfelves his friends ; 
 
 Though well fupplied with fenfe and learning, 
 
 Candour prevents him from difcerning 
 
 Each little, mean, infidious art, 
 
 That faps the fortrefs of his heart ; 
 
 But when the darling point is gain'd, 
 
 'Tis like his vifits are difdain'd ; 
 
 And thofe eternal friends, alack ! 
 
 Find feme pretence to turn their back ; 
 
 For men who have moft meanly bended 
 
 Are always word, when once afceuded. 
 Another fet fucceed to thefe, 
 
 And ftudy every trick to pleafe ; 
 
 But ftill fome accident attends, 
 
 To fcatter or fatigue his friends j
 
 yi VERSES ON FfilENDSHIF.- 
 
 And ere the prime of life be paft, 
 
 He fees that all are knaves at lafl ; 
 
 His finer feelings are exhaufted, *> 
 
 .And his good heart is quite difgufted; 
 
 He fmiles at Friendfhip as abfurd, 
 
 And blumes at the very word. 
 
 Forgive your Bard this boyifh crime 
 Of telling all his thoughts in rhyme, 
 Protefling the refemblance true, 
 And owning, he rememberM you. 
 Not all the candour you poffefs, 
 Not all that fond defire to blefs, 
 That zeal to publifh worth unknown, 
 And blaze all merit but your own, 
 Should Fortune fnatch her gifts away, 
 Could fave you many a difmal day ; 
 The warmefl friend would foon grow cold, 
 The wifefl wifh to fave his gold, 
 And all the poor dependent croud, 
 Lament they could not do you good ; 
 With ferious anguifh hear you mourn, 
 And leave you, never to return. 
 Authors would feldom crofs your gate, 
 They leave Misfortune to her fate. 
 We read the labours of the pen, 
 And think them more than common men;. 
 But fad Experience bids us fay, 
 They're only form'd of vulgar clay. 
 Whate'er a pedant may pretend, 
 Ifcariot provM a better friend; 
 His frozen heart is hard as fteel, 
 'Tis quite a vulgar thing to feel. 
 
 The cant of " thefe degenerate days," 
 Is but a poor unmeaning phrafe ; 
 For knaves at prefent do no more 
 Than what their fathers did before. 
 A man whofe mind is amply fraught 
 With all which Greece and Rome have taught,
 
 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Mud know what Socrates deferv'd, 
 And how his fhoulders would have flarv'd, 
 Had not the poor Profeffor fpoke, 
 And begg'd his pupils for a cloak. 
 And can you ftill fuppofe your friends 
 Superior to all little ends ? 
 The fhrewdeft man Apollo knew 
 Could only find a fcoundrel crew j. 
 And can we in the living race 
 Sublimer, fofter, feelings trace; 
 The prefent age are juft the fame, 
 True to the flock from which they came. 
 The vulgar, timid, felfifli mind, 
 Forms the great herd of human, kind ; 
 The reft are only beafts of prey, 
 More favage and more vile than they. 
 And thus, my unfufpe&ing friend, 
 You fee where common friendfhips end; 
 Caprice and accident coflfpire 
 To light up an eternal fire ; 
 The farthing-candle burns, no doubt, 
 Till pride or intVeft puffs it out ; 
 And then each friend begins to wonder 
 How he committed fuch a blunder ; 
 Perceives how little love he had, 
 And fees his neighbour juft as bad. 
 'Twould take a Lapland fummer's day,. 
 To fum up all that each can fay ; 
 Such unions nothing will produce, 
 But envy, malice, and abufe. 
 The novice, eager to impart 
 His wifhes to fome focial heart, 
 An hundred chances runs to one 
 Of having all his fecrets blown. 
 Cant then of Friendship as they will-, 
 Mortals are only mortals ftill ; 
 A motley mafs of contradi&ions, 
 Their friendships merely traps andfidtions- ;
 
 94 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIF. 
 
 For, in a thoufand, feldom one 
 Is built on love and truth alone. 
 This, Solomon himfelf hath faid, 
 Who, no doubt, very dearly paid 
 For all the flerling force of thought 
 That fparkles through each line he wrote. 
 
 Oh 1 Friendship thy unfading charms. 
 Awake my foul to fweet alarms ; 
 The loudeft racket Folly raifes, 
 Is all too frigid for thy praifes. 
 
 At four-and-twenty, I believe 
 What leffer fools- at ten perceive ; 
 That every wife man thinks and cares 
 For nothing but his own afiairs, 
 And fancies it moft foolifh labour 
 To fave from want a finking neighbour ; 
 Unlefs he can, without delay, 
 With twice its worth his aid repay. 
 This rule, admitting no exceptions, 
 Includes all ranks and alldefcriptions;, 
 Though, once in ninety thoufand years, 
 AG****ora Qiiin appears. 
 
 Did my experience but attefl 
 That all thefe murmurs were a jeft ; . 
 That every heart was fond and true, 
 That every friend refembled'you ; 
 Then mould I, in the Laureate's phrafe, 
 Fill every line with fulfome praife, 
 And fmg up fcribblers to the fkies, 
 For all thofe virtues they defpife. 
 
 May heav'n forbid, you e'er depend 
 Upon the promife of a friend; 
 For if you do not need his aid, 
 Or, if he's certain he'll be paid, 
 At half a nod, behold him fly, 
 For you he lives, for you he'll die ! 
 But fhould you drop the word Subjtftence 
 A fur ly, cold, forbidding difbnce
 
 VERSES ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Announces you muft lick his fpittle ; 
 That he is great, and you are little : 
 And then you fee, too late, indeed, 
 His Friendfhip juft a broken reed ! 
 A thoufand times you muft have known 
 A cafe like this, though not your own : 
 Then how can one forbear to lam 
 "Thefe mean, detefted fordid trafh, 
 I am not talking of the mob 
 Whom want impells to (teal and rob ; 
 Xo ! I am fpeaking of their betters, 
 Of men of tafte, and men ofletters; 
 Of men who honour their high ftations, 
 "Whofe works extend the fame of nations, 
 Who Virgil's verfes would admire, 
 And let him in a jail expire; 
 (As fifty Bards have done before), 
 And then his woeful end deplore. 
 And if, perhaps, my credit fail, 
 Turn over the laborious Bayte.; 
 Remark" what monfters croud his pages, 
 All daffies of enlightened ages ! 
 
 The beft of us have many a fault, 
 And ad but feldom as we ought : 
 Yet, if our planet be poflefs'd 
 Of one fublimely generous bread, 
 A friend who really feels your grief, 
 Who, when he can, will lend relief; 
 A friend, who, like immortal Quin, 
 Will free you from the turnkey's gin, 
 And ftriclly charge you not to tell 
 That he (good CouP.) has aded well-; 
 In ranging forty fyftems round, 
 If fuch a wonder fhall be found, 
 The confcious Mufe could guefs his name, 
 ; But modeft worth defpifes fame.
 
 <j ON THE VANITY OF 
 
 ON DAVID HUME, ESQUIRE. 
 
 "WHAT better way, to fpend a day, 
 Than turning over thoughtful Hume ; 
 
 For though on priefts he broke his jefts, 
 He fairly rivals Greece and Rome. 
 
 He did, 'tis true, deny their due 
 
 To Bacon, Shakefpeare*, Hampden, Brutus ; 
 But ftill we know he did not {how 
 
 A mean fervility to Plutus. 
 
 He took his pen, like other men> 
 Becaufe he wanted food and fame ; 
 
 But then he wrote whate'er he thought, 
 Nor courted praife, nor feared blame : 
 
 And fince we know he roafls below 
 
 For what he faid upon the Bible, 
 It would be wrong to make our fong, 
 
 Like Beattie's bitter bookf, a Libel. 
 
 ON THE VANITY OF AMBITION. 
 
 THE horfe, when well fupply'd with corn and hay, 
 
 With patience bears the labours of the day; 
 
 At his hard lot he never once repines, 
 
 Nor pants to know what Providence defigns ; 
 
 * His character of this Poet is invidious and abfurd, and ought, 
 for the honour of Literature, to be expunged from every future 
 editon of his hiftory. 
 
 f In attempting to perufe this work, we find the author unin- 
 telligible, unlefs in a few paflages where he ts remarkably fcur- 
 rilous. We have all heard of the Eflay as an admirable defence 
 of Chriftianity, which ought not, one fhould think, at this time 
 of day, to ftand in need of a defence. After wading through 
 one hundredand feventy pages of the firft part of his performance, 
 the Reader will be furprifed to find nothing at all about Religion.
 
 ON THE VANITY OF AMBITION. 97 
 
 And, after all the wife pretend to fee, 
 Perhaps our nags know jufl as well as we,. 
 The dog is happy when his paunch is full, 
 No phantoms of ambition plague his ikull; 
 To ferve his owner, modeftly content, 
 He reaps the raptures of a life well fpent. 
 Pufs, killing mice, exults through every vein, 
 Nor lets the longitude derange her brain. 
 The moufe entrenching in a rotten cheefe, 
 No higher happinefs or feeks or fees. 
 In fhort, all animals but reftlefs man, 
 Are pretty well content with Nature's plan ; 
 And though with ills they (land inceflant ilrifs, 
 Yet never in contempt relinquish life. 
 And we, inheriting a foul divine! ' 
 Above blind Inftinft furely ought to fhinc; 
 But Reafon only maks us greater fools, 
 We're conflantly at war with Reafon's rules ^ 
 Ten thoufand idle wants we madly make, 
 And for each phantom cafl our all to ftakc. 
 
 This frantic wifh, for inftance, fires the breaft; 
 Each mortal would rejoice to rule the reft. 
 Had haughty Gzfar been content to keep 
 In Alpine folitudes, a herd of fheep, 
 More happy had he liv'd a humble fwain, 
 Than when at Munda he reconquer'd Spain; 
 Where Courage to Defpair began to yield, 
 And Chance beftow'd the honours of the field. 
 Or, was he bleft when fenates round him bow'd, 
 And foes to his contempt their fafety ow'd; 
 When Tully's tongue was panting to obey, 
 And Egypt's Syren mark'd him for her prey ? 
 
 Let all fuch heirs of Glory, if they will, 
 . Determine either to be kill'd or kill. 
 That mode of madnefs mall not crack my head. 
 My grand ambition is to die a-bed. 
 I care not what the Ruffians are about, 
 Nor whether France and Germany fall out, 
 
 2 I
 
 f)8 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE IV. 
 
 What tawny tyrant keeps the Moors in awe, 
 
 What Tartar chief fucceeds to Nadir Shaw; 
 
 By Japan when the Pope fhall be obey'd, 
 
 Or all Amboyna on the Dutch repaid. 
 
 England, for me, fhall never rule the main, 
 
 I would not break one limb ten cat-fkin marts to gain ; 
 
 Nor quit the comforts of my kitchen fire, 
 
 That gaping mobs my courage may admire; 
 
 That fome vile Statefman, of his blood-hounds vain, 
 
 May fpread deflruction through a frefh campaign, 
 
 And bankrupt nations add an endlefs fcore, 
 
 To what both Indies could not pay before. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE. IV. 
 
 THE furly winter now has fled, 
 And ftniling fpring fupplies his ftead; 
 The iky diffolves in gentle mowers, 
 And April paints the mead with flowers; 
 No hoar-froft in the dawn is feen, 
 But lambs are leaping o'er the green. 
 The farmer feels the cold retire, 
 And quits, in hafte, his kitchen fire; 
 'Turns out his oxen from the flails, 
 And to the plow his fervants calls ; 
 .How beautiful the budding grove, 
 All nature melting into love. 
 The linnet lines her little neft, 
 With feathers from her tender breaft, 
 The wealthy bee is on the wing, 
 To rifle all the rofy fpring ; 
 While vegetation burfls around, 
 And daifes deck the teeming ground. 
 
 At this fweet feafon, when I fee 
 M friend beneath fome fhady tree,
 
 HORACE, LIB. i. ODE v. 9$ 
 
 Perufing Dryden's claffic page, 
 
 Or tracing man through Shakefpeare's flage ; 
 
 When gen'rous Brutus a&s his part, 
 
 Or fond Ophelia pours her heart; 
 
 While mufic fwells along the iky, 
 
 And rapture trembles in his eye, 
 
 'Tis then I blefs ray humble fate, 
 
 And pity all the pompous great ; 
 
 When can they eatch an hour fcrcnc, 
 
 To tafte the joy of fuch a fcene. 
 
 But ah ! his virtues will not fave 
 My Lucius from the filent grave ; 
 Impartial Death one meflage brings, 
 To rich, and poor, to flaves and kings. 
 Life lends but very narrow fcope, 
 To the fond reveries of Hope : 
 And when committed to the fhroud, 
 No modern mortal is allow'd, 
 Though weeping worlds his abfence mourn, 
 Like Hamlet's father to return. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE V. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 An ! tell me, dear Pyrrha, what beautiful boy, 
 This evening ihall rifle thefe charms; 
 
 Some jefTamine arbour the fcene of your joy, 
 And Paradife all in your arms ! 
 
 For whom are you combing your long jetty hair, 
 
 So gracefully artlefs you drefs; 
 So tender a look ! fo bewitching an air! 
 
 Admiration fwells into diftrefs. 
 
 Ycur fimple young favVite, will fondly fuppofe, 
 That he is the lord of your heart; 
 
 lij.
 
 100 ON READING THE BEAt'X STRATAGEM. 
 
 But, when the feas frown, and the hurricane blows ? 
 With how much amaze mall he flart ! 
 
 Mow happy the lovers who calmly de,fy 
 
 The fair one they cannot efteem ; 
 But yet in the midft of your fcorn let me die, 
 
 Ere I live to be frigid like them. 
 
 ON READING THE BEAUX STRATAGEM. 
 
 R'S loofe fcenes let every good man mun, 
 Where all our morals to perdition run. 
 A crew like thefe the world ne'er knew before; 
 A rake each hufband, and each wife a whore ; 
 How vile a pimp to every human vice ! 
 What wretched fools who read his pages twice ! 
 
 When mall a Britifh flage be fwept quite clean, 
 UNor aftors need to blufh for what they mean. 
 Lay Shakefpeare, and a feleft few afide, 
 And that fweet paftoral Edina's pride, 
 Where honeft nature foars above ftage art, 
 And each pure thought fiov, ^ warmly from the heart 
 And then remark what hateful tram remains; 
 Trafti, tafle abhors, and common fenfe difdains. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VI. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 DEAR Harry you affec~l to wonder 
 
 I never echo Rodney's name, 
 And fwell my fong with blood and thunder, 
 
 Since Horace would have done the fame*
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VI. 
 
 The fweet immortal Bard of Rome 
 To fing his heroes had a right } 
 
 But never fhall a wren prefume 
 To emulate an eagle's flight. 
 
 What mufe could elevate a verfe, 
 To tell how Keppel chac'd our foes ? 
 
 Homer had trembled to rehearfe 
 The rival valour of the Howes ! 
 
 And never, fince the world began, 
 Did fo much wifdom rule a ftate ; 
 
 How deep and fteady in each plan, 
 How calm and decent in 'debate ? 
 
 What generous pity we.difplay'd 
 When Rumbold was to be defended ! 
 
 When North and Fox the fceptre fway'd, 
 How wide our glory was extended! 
 
 'Tis true, their reign was very fhort, 
 For which pofterity will mourn ; 
 
 Bqt 'tis a fafhion at the Court 
 That every party rife in turn ! 
 
 And every patriot of them all 
 
 Hath fuch a furvd of public fpirit j 
 
 Bards to eternity might bawl, 
 
 And fcarcc do juftice to their merit. 
 
 Then how can you fuppofe that I 
 Should venture on fo vaft a theme ; 
 
 For fome young doxy let me figh, 
 And pen a ballad to her fame. 
 
 IK)
 
 C to* 1 
 
 ON THE POWER OF WEALTH. 
 
 FIRE and the Sun the Perflans once ador'd, 
 And pious Egypt her dead bull deplor'd ; 
 The fons of Brama venerate a Cow, 
 And Rome to relicks condefcends to bow ; 
 The Moon when full, the Hottentots admire. 
 And China's idols fervent faith rnfptre; 
 The Turk to Mahomet for pardon prays, 
 The Jew from Mofes, hopes for better days ; 
 And each of thefe in turn contemns the reft, 
 While Englifh wifdom fees them all a jefl ; 
 Admires what nonfenfe mankind fwallow down, 
 And finds no creed confident but her own. 
 Yet though no fec~l admits a rival right, 
 All parties in one point of faith unite ; 
 From Japan to Peru, from Pole to Pole, 
 The lufl of gold enflaves the human foul. 
 Beggars themfelves fincerely fcorn the poor, 
 And rum enraptur'd to the rich man's door ; 
 The blaze of grandeur fills your houfe with friends, 
 To ferve his own, each ferves your meanefl ends. 
 See them! like moths around the candle dance, 
 Even pride herfelf, will pay the firfl advance. 
 For you the lawyer's tongue perverts the laws, 
 The Judge, we daily mark it, nods applaufe. 
 Your heir himfelf is anxious for your health, 
 And rates your virtues far above your wealth ; 
 Itfay Sunday's Orator mufl now be fee'd, 
 And fcorns, like honefl Paul, to work for bread; 
 Though befl or worfl have nothing new to fay, 
 But trudge the fame trite circle every day. 
 One mufl be nimble, mould he chance to meet, 
 Our Vicar's carriage rufhing down the flreet ; 
 The wildefl fanaticks will ne'er neglect, 
 To treat a monied man with due refpecl;
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE Vir. 
 
 But by their filent reverence feem to fay, 
 He's as much wifer as more rich than they. 
 And mould fome portly Dean their price allow 
 Quakers themfelvcs alas! begin to bow. 
 Thus every fedl purfues one common end, 
 And riches are the Baal to whom they bend 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VII. 
 
 HORACE, in his enchanting lays, 
 Old Tiber's praife proclaims ; 
 
 And Denham happily difplays 
 The grandeur of his Thames. 
 
 A thoufand ancient Bards have fung 
 The lovely Banks of Tweed ; 
 
 And winding Leven lately rung 
 With Random's tuneful reed. 
 
 And yet, methinks, my native ftream 
 
 Is far above the reft ; 
 Its diftant beauties, like a dream, 
 
 Are rufhing on my breafl. 
 
 But why fweet * * * f o fondly praife, 
 Or why it's abfence mourn ? 
 
 Alas I our childhood's happy days 
 Are never to return. 
 
 When Camoens, who, for hunger died, 
 
 From India took his way ; 
 Thus, while their veflel cut the tide, 
 
 The Poet pour'd his lay. 
 
 " Though Fate allow me once again, 
 " To fee my native more ;
 
 " 'Tis like the long-lamented fcenc 
 " Shall know my name no more. 
 
 44 The rich will very wifely fhun 
 
 " A man fo very poor ; 
 4 Nor will the croud with raptures run 
 4 ' His friendfhip to fecure. 
 
 41 In fullen filence all agree, 
 
 44 Or coldly condefcend, 
 44 To hint they once admitted me 
 
 44 Their equal and their frk-nd. 
 
 44 Then muft I feel this humbling truth 
 " Strike heavy on my breaft ; 
 
 11 The fond attachments of our yovith 
 u Are nothing but a jeft. 
 
 M Nor would old Homer, if alive, 
 
 " A kinder welcome meet ; 
 *" But all his funfhine friends furvive 
 
 4t To perifh in the flreet. 
 
 44 And yet, perhaps, a future age 
 
 u My miferies may hear ; 
 *' And drop, while they perufe my page, 
 
 u A fond though fmitlefs tear." 
 
 ON FRUGALITY. 
 
 FEW ills occur more frequently in life, 
 Than ruin from the folly of a wife ; 
 The wifefl of the fex are rather vain, 
 Andfolitude, and filence, give them pain ; 
 They cannot read, nor think, nor flay at home r 
 In fearch of fcandal, filks, and tea, they roam. 
 Their friends to vifit them in courfe return, 
 And then the candle at both ends muft burn-;
 
 ON FRUGALITT* 
 
 To plcafc the company what hafle is made, 
 What noife, expence, and flutter, and parade. 
 The vifitors are always very free, 
 In finding faults with every thing they fee ; 
 They mew their envy, though they call it tafte, 
 And teach your fpoufe new lefTons how to wafte. 
 
 'Tis flrange, that any man of common fenfe, 
 Permits his wife to drown him with expence ; 
 And when, like njofl of us, he fcarce can live, 
 More than his own for idle toys to give ; 
 Why truft his helm to fuch a feeble hand? 
 Why not enjoy the pleafures of command ? 
 Why thus refign his native right to rule? 
 Or, who mould fympathize with fuch a fool. 
 The coward who can bear this mameful plan, 
 Deferves to lofe the title of a man ; 
 The worfl effed\ mufl very feldom fail, 
 Debt, and difgrace, and hunger, and a jail j 
 Nay, oft the victim hath refolv'd to die, 
 And cut the knot, he never could untie. 
 
 Without frugality, we try in vain 
 The dignity of riches to attain ; 
 It is not what we win, but what we fave, 
 That fits us future accidents to brave ; 
 And happy, fo far, mufl that mortal be, 
 Who feels himfelf from duns and debtors free ; 
 Who every bill can at an inflant pay ; 
 Nor needs indulgence for a fingle day. 
 If 'tis the gentle reader's glorious fate, 
 To find himfelf fo fmgularly great ; 
 His friends will flock around him in the flreet ? 
 Nay fawn upon his children when they meet : 
 His faithful kin though forty times remov'd, 
 Will let him hear how tenderly he'slov'd ; 
 Silence when he harangues will ne'er be broke 
 But every tongue repeat his poorefl joke. 
 Treat none, let prodigals and bankrupts treat, 
 makefeq/is tbat wifer men may eat*.
 
 Io6 HORACE, LIB, I. ODE VIII. 
 
 And when you feem fo frugal and fo wife, 
 
 Your credit with the world will daily rife ; 
 
 And though you fliould not wear fo fine a coat 
 
 As fome vain coxcomb, hardly worth a groat, 
 
 The public will have fenfe enough to know, 
 
 From what fage thrift thefe marks of meannefs flow. 
 
 For wealth in tatters forces full refpeft, 
 
 When gaudy Indigence excites negledl. 
 
 My lord may live on a more fplendid plan, 
 
 But you who lend him cafli, are much the greater man, 
 
 To you the petulant will fmooth their ftyle, 
 
 Pedants be frank, and pride fubmit to fmile ; 
 
 The prieft to pleafe you will relax his creed, 
 
 The fanguine furgeon own he mould not bleed. 
 
 And though your fon your health at bottom curfe r 
 
 And feel a juft impatience for your purfe, 
 
 As each young fquire turns Cck by twenty -five 
 
 If the old dog, his father, lags alive ; 
 
 Unlefs you fairly ftrip yourfelf like Lear, 
 
 One ferious frown ihall freeze his foul with fear ; 
 
 The want of money keep his temper mild, 
 
 And kings, with envy view the fire of fuch a child. 
 
 Good fenfe muft make him think what he's about, 
 
 Nor fpurn your orders till your breath is out. ' 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE VIII. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 DEAR Madam, you ruin your fon 
 By loving the youth to excefs, 
 
 For Billy of late hath begun 
 
 To think upon nothing but drefs. 
 
 Laft year he was learning at fchool 
 To gallop, to fence, and to fwim ; 
 
 But a fword, and a horfe, and a pool. 
 Have loft their attractions for him-
 
 ON POPERT. IC7 
 
 Laft year he was hardy and bold, 
 
 Now alter'd fo far and fb foon ; 
 In-December he fhivers with cold, 
 
 And droops in the funfhine of June. 
 
 .No longer to rein the rafli fteed, 
 
 To plunge in the bofom of Thames, 
 With Rodney to conquer and bleed, 
 
 The pupil of Luxury claims. 
 
 The Ladies are all his delight, 
 
 The fcquel you certainly know ; 
 -His courage will foon take its flight, 
 And the loldier be funk in the beau. 
 
 Like you, tender Thetis of old 
 
 Debas'd her invincible boy ; 
 And petticoats, long, as we're told, 
 
 Retarded the ruin of Troy. 
 
 ON POPERY. 
 
 How can a Catholic of common fenfe 
 Believe falvation mall be bought with pence? 
 As if the Lord of Nature, like himfelf, 
 Could feel a pleafure in collecting pelf. 
 The blindell eye may fee the whole a jeft, 
 Contriv'd to glut the rapine of the priefl ; 
 And the vaft code, invented in their fchools, 
 A vulgar trap to catch the cafh of fools. 
 
 'Tis not, my Friend, by burning bulls and 
 By fhaving heads, and cutting human throats, 
 By kneeling at an altar, thrice a-day, 
 Collecting ancient maids to hear him pray, 
 By flaying of his back, rehearflng creeds, 
 Refufing roaftedbeef, or counting beads; 
 'Tis not by fwearing that he'll want a wife, 
 Clean beds and decent linen all his life-;
 
 I C.8 
 
 'Tis not by building dungeons to immure 
 
 Young girls, and make them twenty deaths endure; 
 
 Nor yet by kiffing an old wooden poft, 
 
 The Pope's indulgence, or the wafer-hoft ; 
 
 That he who wrongs the poor fhall purchafe reft, 
 
 "When confcious guilt is throbbing in his breaft. 
 
 Let Tillotfon eke folios, fince he will, 
 
 To prove that wafers are but wafers ftill ; 
 
 Preachers on fuch a point who rack their brain, 
 
 Are fcarce above the bigots they difdain ; 
 
 How vile the Sophifts then who condefcend, 
 
 Such rank and fatal folly to defend. 
 "We hope the rifing age may live to fee 
 
 That glorious day when Parfons fhall agree; 
 
 When Truth fhall force one facrifice from Pride, 
 
 By burning all the trafli on either fide ; 
 
 When every Nun fhall burft her prifon door, 
 
 And Popery's laft relick be no more.* 
 
 But though the Conclave may have led us wrong, 
 And kept the world in ignorance fo long, 
 
 Let us purfue the only path that's given, 
 
 By which poor mortals may pretend to Heaven. 
 
 That man who will not tread his neighbours down, 
 
 Becaufe their faith is diff'rent from his own ; 
 
 Who facred kaeps his promife to a maid, 
 
 And inly blufhes till his debts are paid; 
 
 Who, though a lawyer, fcruples at a lie, 
 
 And, though a furgeon, feels the patient's flgh ; 
 
 Who, ifafoldien, fcorns to draw his blade 
 
 When fmugglers quarrel, for fome lawlefs trade; 
 
 But, fhould Oppreffion trample on the laws, 
 
 Is proud to perifh in a Hampden's caufe; 
 
 Suppofe there be fome blunders in his creed, "J 
 
 His fate, nor here, nor elfewhere, fhall he dread, ? 
 
 Though Hecla's bafis burft upon his head. j 
 
 * This article was written about eight years ago ; fince that 
 time it is pleafing to obferve how far the French nation, and the 
 Emperor Jofeph, dijcordia fernina rerum, have agreed in advan- 
 cing this event.
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE. XI. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 IT is not fit that you or I 
 Should know the period when we'll die ; 
 But then your Ladymip, it feems, 
 Expects to learn it by your dreams. 
 All men of common fenfe difdain 
 Thefe idle vifions of the brain; 
 Much better the complaint endure 
 Than crack your head with fuch a cure. 
 
 'Tis little odds to me or you, 
 (As all our found Divines allow) 
 How many winters intervene, 
 Or if this prefent clofe the fcene ; 
 Since He whofe goodnefs guides the whole 
 Will find new quarters for the foul, 
 And who would wim to linger here, 
 Where every day demands a tear? 
 
 Pretend no longer, if you're wife, 
 To pierce the fecrets of the ikies; 
 At fleeting years no more repine, 
 But fill your Bard a bowl of wine: 
 For while we talk, invidious Age, 
 Advances o'er Life's little ftage: 
 Come, let us catch the current hour, 
 To-morrow is not in our power. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XVI. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 I BEG you, dear Fanny, to do what you pleafe, 
 
 With that rafti unlucky lampoon ; 
 Let it rife in the chimney or fink in the feas, 
 Your implacable vengeance to crown. 
 K
 
 !! HOKACE, LIB. 1. ODE XVI. 
 
 Some others, I feel it, are handfome and fai r, 
 But your charms even the coldeft avow ; 
 
 And, Oh ! let me fay, that in fpite of defpair, 
 My wimes muft center in you. 
 
 Forbid the effects of implacable rage 
 
 From rending that delicate breaft ; 
 You have feen ram Othello expire on the ftage, 
 
 And vvifdora will tell you the reft. 
 
 When David, the Jew, rifled Kabbah of old, 
 
 What feats did his fury perform ! 
 To the chofen thenifelves the fame mcafure was told-, 
 
 When Zion'was enter'd by florin. 
 
 From all thefe examples, too fenfible maid, 
 
 The danger of paflion you fee, 
 Then be not alas ! by jufl anger betray'd, 
 
 To rejoice in the ruin of me. 
 
 When Adam was moulded, the devil they fay, 
 
 Infertcd a fpice in the plan ; 
 And we, his defcendants, proceed to this day, 
 
 As that ferry being began. 
 
 Then why, my dear Fanny, continue to charge 
 
 The tricks of the devil on me ? 
 Or is there one lover, take mankind at large. 
 
 From fits of impertinence free ? 
 
 By thofe foolifh verfes I try'd to conceal, 
 
 An ambition I bluftYd to avow, 
 Nor did I, at that time, fo terribly feel 
 
 My exiitence depended on you. 
 
 But fince every quarrel is ended at laft, 
 
 Your heart let humanity move ; 
 Let us both, like fond Jofeph, forget what is pafi, 
 
 Ajid plunge in the torrent of love.
 
 ( 111 ) 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST. IV. 
 
 IMITATED. 
 
 , the kind corrector of my lay?, 
 Remote from London pafs the fummer days, 
 How hall I tell the world you fpend your time 
 Still quite enamour' d with the fweets of rhyme ? 
 What ! can a youth, fo modeft, really hope 
 With Dryden's rapid eloquence to cope ! 
 Harmonious profe demands no matter art, 
 But who like Dryden, overwhelms the heart ? 
 So fweetly voluble his verfes run, 
 The line Teems ended ere 'tis well begun. 
 
 Perhaps you faunter through fome fhady grove, 
 While your chafte bofom glows with rural love ; 
 Her charms the parfon's daughter has impreft, 
 Or fome kind milk-maid captivates your breaft, 
 Sacred from pafte, and painting, and perfume, 
 And all her features frefh with Nature's bloom ; 
 No barber's Babel nodding on her head, 
 Nor with town-fcandal fit to talk ycu dead : 
 
 Or, fhall I fay, that, with the truly wife, 
 Your contemplations foar above the fkies ; 
 That 'tis eternity commands your care, 
 And all your fage ambition centers there ? 
 For, though a man of famion and eflate, 
 With you religion is not out of date: 
 And let a friend applaud, without offence, 
 [Mankind acknowledge your fuperior fenfe. 
 Your handfome perfon cannot fail to pleafe, 
 And cam, in plenty, fets your foul at eafe, 
 And you what Fortune proffers can enjoy, 
 Yet neither dignity nor health deftroy : 
 You ne'er at midnight in a tavern roar, 
 Nor pledge your honour for a bagnio fcore ; 
 
 Kij
 
 ON JULIUS CAESAR. 
 
 Nor at Newmarket bet with dirty rogues, 
 Nor fhrve a parifh to fupport your dogs ; 
 Nor with backgammon embarrafs your brain, 
 But cards and cockpits equally difdain. 
 
 What farther could his doating nurfe requed, 
 For the young bantling fmiling at her bread, 
 Than a clear, lively, comprehenfive mind, 
 A feeling heart, an eloquence refin'd, 
 A graceful form, an ample flock of health, 
 An happy temper, and fome fhare of wealth. 
 
 Since Nature then has every gift fupply'd, 
 And Fate propitious rolls her riched tide ; 
 Embrace the pleafures of the prefent day, 
 But blend betimes the ferious with the gay ; 
 No tempefl overclouds your morning fkies, 
 But who can tell how foon the dorm may rife ? 
 
 Pardon, dear Sir, the prefent fit of rhyme, 
 To fcribble nonfenfe is no deadly crime ; 
 And did not confcience whifper what they cod, 
 I'd fend you fuch epiflles every poll. 
 
 ON JULIUS CAESAR. * 
 
 THE fird of the Caefars to finifli his praife, 
 Deferv'd and demanded a fprig of the bays; 
 And though as alert in profcribing the rich, 
 As fchool boys at pelting the frogs in a ditch, 
 As cool as a Taylor extirpating fleas, 
 While the blood of his countrymen iffued in feas, 
 As anxious his foes on the head piece to knock, 
 As a Parfon with tithe-fuits to torture his flock, 
 As unprincipled, blood thrifty, favage, impetuous, 
 As JefFeries, or Laud, or the judge of Servetus, * 
 
 Or the very word king, or the very word pried, 
 That ever made all human feelings a jed, 
 
 " The barbarous manners of his age muft be admitted as a 
 very confiderable apology for the blemifhes of this eminent cha- 
 rafter.
 
 THE PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. I 
 
 He forgave, nay, he courted Catullus forfooth ! 
 Who painted his crimes in the language of truth. 
 Yet no Laureate now a-days ventures to fmile, 
 Left his Lilliput patron mould quarrel his ftyle; 
 And diminifh his Judas Ifcariot's bow, 
 To glance of diflruft and a cold " how d'ye do." 
 How manly the old Roman manner of thinking; 
 From what have we funk, or to what are we linking? 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 
 
 IN times of old when Julius Czfar, 
 
 Britannic laurels gain'd at leifure ; 
 
 Our cuckold anceflors* were fkilTdin 
 
 No art, and leaft of all, in building. 
 
 Yet when they built a man was free, 
 
 To bore his roof to let him fee, 
 
 JSTor trembled for a Gauger's frown 
 
 Though fmoke went up and light came down. 
 
 His cote when funflaine had forfook, 
 
 A bonfire mew'd him every nook ; 
 
 He thought himfelf no more benighted, 
 
 Than if ten tapers had been lighted ; 
 
 When like ourfelves of water tir'd, 
 
 His palate barley-corn requir'd, 
 
 No fupervifor watch'd his ale, 
 
 Or thruft an ell-wand in the pail. 
 
 But now, behold how Fate diftra&s us, 
 With window, barley, tallow taxes 1 
 A draught of ale, a draught of air, f 
 A pinch of fnuff will foon be rare. 
 
 * Caefar tells us, that among the ancient Britons, ten or twelve 
 hufbands enjoyed as many wives in common. 
 
 f In confequence of the ruinous duty on window lights, a. 
 great number of windows were built up in the city of Carlifle, 
 as well as in the reft of the kingdom, in the year 1781. the 
 
 Kiij
 
 *14 THE FfiOGEESS OF L1BEBTT. 
 
 A fine, liis Majefty muft handle, 
 Ere you dare dip a farthing candle ; 
 In dull no fcavenger is laid, 
 Till three-pence to your prince be paid; 
 Another three-pence rnufl be given, 
 A fort of entry-fee for heaven,. 
 Before your pious heir begins 
 To warn away that world of fins 
 Contracted, if the church be right, 
 Long ages ere he faw the light. 
 No barber can retail pomatum, 
 But lo ! the Chancellor is at hint. 
 'Tis not enough to tax your crown r 
 His inquiries go farther down ; 
 The Doftor when he vends a purge, 
 Mufl have a licence fir ft from ******. 
 And fince we buy the back-door fcouring, 
 Why not excife all Britifti urine ; 
 'Twould have a twofold operation, 
 In working cut this realm's falvation ; 
 By forcing prodigal's to think r 
 Better ere they begin to drink. 
 
 want of free air produced a putrid fever, which, before the Be- 
 ginning of February 1782, had attacked fix hundred of the inhabi 
 tants; of thefe fifty-five died. See a pamphlet printed by Mr. Ca- 
 dell in February 1782. The heavy tax on Peruvian bark, and 
 upon other neceflary drugs, is a tax on the health of the Britifh. 
 nation; yet, as if the reft, of Europe were inhabited only by {laves 
 and poltroons, our political writers are inceflantly chattering a- 
 bout the fupreme excellence of the Britifh conftitution; and the 
 Minifter of the day, at the head of his difciplined phalanx, has- 
 the modefty to aflure us that we are a free people. Britain 
 has been juftjy compared to an apple in a cyder prefs, and the 
 Premier to the man at the fcrew. No peculiar cenfure is here 
 intended on Mr. Pitt. We can hardly fuppofe that his antago* 
 aifts would, in his fixation, have afted better.
 
 ON DRYDEN. 
 
 HERE DRYDEN lies, and all his cries 
 Of want and hunger are forgot ; 
 
 And the whole croud, to whom he bow'J 
 Are like himfelf, condemned to rot.. 
 
 Had fuch a man purfu'd a plan 
 For gaining fair immortal fame, 
 
 No claffic piece of Rome, or Greece, 
 Had foar'd above his deathlefs name : 
 
 But when a Bard has no regard 
 To Virtue, Decency, or Senfe, 
 
 We may admire his glorious fire, 
 But fliall we fpeak in his defence ? 
 
 Had Dryden feorn'd to be fuborn'd 
 To rublifh vile religious rhymes, 
 
 And had his Mufe darM to refufe 
 To vindicate a tyrant's crimes* 
 
 Each future age had read his page 
 With endlefs wonder and delight ; 
 
 The Poet's fong can fcarce be wrong 
 Providing Truth diredl his flight. 
 
 THE WISE MAN. 
 
 JESSE'S fam'd grandfon ap'd his fire, 
 Whofe cut-throat reign \ve all admire \ 
 He plundered every kingdom round, 
 \Vhere handfome wenches tould be found, 
 Like geldings from a fair he led, 
 Each wanton b_auty to his bed;
 
 II 6 TRE WISE MAN. 
 
 But could not anfwer every call, 
 And act his duty to them all. 
 Great Caefar's felf had ne'er fupply'd, 
 The warm demands of every bride; 
 And then his royal wifdom raged, 
 To catch them at the game engaged. 
 He plainly felt the fprouting horn, 
 He felt it was not to be borne; 
 And in a fit of paflion faid, 
 That every girl her faith betray'd. 
 His capons to be fure would crack 
 Their whips on many a charming back; 
 And {Ince they could not pleai'e, invent 
 Ten thoufand methods to torment. 
 But had the wileft of all kings 
 Confider'd well the ftate of things, 
 He might with half an eye have feen y 
 That the bare title of a Queen 
 Would ne'er filence the fimplelt maid, 
 They know what tribute ihould be paid j 
 And rogues, who rob them of their due, 
 Shall foon or late find time to rue. 
 Had he then manag'd as he ought, 
 And truth in one fond bofom fought, 
 'Tis certain the fagacious rake, 
 Had feen that moment his miflake ; 
 At the whole fex he had not rail'd, 
 Nor had for once his wifdom fail'd.* 
 
 * What would be the fituation of feven hundred, or a thonfand; 
 hufbands, reftrifted to a fingle wife ?
 
 REMARKS 
 
 ON 
 
 ENGLISH P LA T S. 
 
 THE HYPOCRITE: 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THIS plagiary mode of forming plays, has, in our fervile 
 age, become neceffary from the want of original genius. 
 The fcenes borrowed from Gibber, are generally good. 
 The tranflations, from Moliere, fall materially fhort of 
 the fenfe, humour, and propriety of the original. The 
 compiler's additions are very diftinguimable from the reft. 
 There is certainly an impropriety and ill judgment in 
 transferring the characters of TartufF&and Wolf, the opu- 
 lent pricfts of eftablifhed fuperftition, to the perfon of a 
 poor enthufiaftic fanatic preacher. The fame author has 
 exhaufted the original fpirit of the Plain Dealer, and- 
 metamorphofed it into a very inlipid comedy, in the true 
 tafte of modern alteration. 
 
 A TRUE WIDOW : 
 A Comedy, Jy Sbadwell. 
 
 THE fcenes in this play are loofe and unconnected. 
 Some of the characters are outre, and there is hardly any 
 plot, yet the language is eafy and natural. We find in 
 it true unaffected wit, and materials which would make 
 a great figure in modern comedy. 
 
 THE SQUIRE OF ALSATIA: 
 
 A Ccmedy, by Sbadwell. 
 
 THERE is a great variety of amuling adventure in this 
 play, with foma good fcenes and natural characters; yet 
 it falls off remarkably, after the firft act, which is a piece 
 of true comedy. Sir Edward is as pleafant and juft a. cha-
 
 n REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLAfS. 
 
 rafter of a fcn/lble worthy gentleman, as can be found in 
 the drama, or in real life ; and the moral of this play is 
 liberal and good, in various views. I value this play the 
 more, as I was much prepoflefTed againft the author, by 
 Dryden's admirable fatirein the Mackfleckno; but great 
 wits have commonly great pride and malice. Pope, with 
 genius much inferior to Dryden, difcovers a fimilar pride 
 and malevolence, by his illiberal abufe of CoJley Gibber, 
 in his Dunciad, a fatire, in which the malice is very na- 
 tural, and the wit very artificial. On the whole, the 
 play, though not altogether of a piece with the firfl aft, 
 merits the charafter as exprefled in the dedication by its 
 patron of " a true and diverting comedy." 
 
 THE BEAUX STRATAGEM : 
 
 A Comedy, by Farqnbar. 
 
 THIS is a pleafant comedy, has great variety of charac- 
 ter and humour and is very entertaining, when well per- 
 formed on the flage. There is lefs of the affefted fludied 
 wit r and more of natural converfation and humour, than is 
 to be found in moft of our later comedies. In this age, 
 dramatic genius exifls not ; and 
 
 " Nature flies us like enchanted ground."* 
 Farquhar, however, neither in this, nor any of his plays, 
 is able altogether to avoid fome touches of low and inde- 
 licate humour. 
 
 POLLY: 
 An Opera, by Gay. 
 
 THE introduction, by way of prologue, is perfeftly in 
 the happy flyle and tafte of the prologue to the Beggar's 
 Opera. Every fentence conveys, in eafy, proper, and 
 fignificant language, flrokes of fatire on the vices of. the 
 times, with peculiar force and pleafantry. There is here 
 no fludied affeftation, and quaintnefs, which generally 
 infeft our modern wit, and gratify a prevailing ill taftc. 
 
 * Dryden.
 
 fcEMARKS OX ENGLISH PLATS. 11$ 
 
 A laboured fingularity of expreflion, and pompous lan- 
 guage, difguife the defects offenfe and true genius, from 
 the days of ancient Seneca, down to a very modern and 
 popular hiflorian of the Roman empire.* Gay and Swift 
 are, I think, the only unaffected Englifh wits. I except 
 the old poets, Shakefpeare, Johnfon and Fletcher, and the 
 ilngular wit and fatire of the Rehearfal. 
 
 RULE A WIFE AND HAVE A WIFE : 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THIS is an admirable comedy. The characters are na- 
 tural, and the converfation eafy. The adventures arc 
 wrought up in an agreeable entertaining manner. The 
 humour is unaffected, highly entertaining, and perfectly 
 in character. All is in the old, plain, and happy ftyle of 
 poetry, which enlivens without conflraining the author's 
 compofition. The BANEFUL RESTORATION intro- 
 duced many and lafling evils to Britain ; and, among the 
 reft, a falfe corrupted tafte in dramatic entertainments. 
 From that period, our comedy has been infefled with plots 
 immoral and improbable, with affected fimilies and flu- 
 died wit, which, like the prologue of Bayes, may fervc 
 equally for any character or any play. Garrick has alter- 
 ed this comedy, and, as ufual, for the worfe. 
 
 EPICCENEj OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: 
 
 A Comedy, by Ben Jobnfo n. 
 
 ALL the characters of excellent comedy are .to be found 
 In this-play. It is equally admirable in language, compo- 
 
 * Lord Mansfield being a(ked his opinion of the ftyle of this cele- 
 brated writer, replied, " It is abominable." Perhaps the reader 
 may not be difpleafed with a fhort anecdote of Mr. G. A friend 
 having afked him how, in cafe one fhould happen to be d d, it 
 would be pofHble to fupport the eternity of hell torments ; " I do 
 " not know," replied the hiftorian, " but of this I am certain tha t 
 " none of our divines has yet been able to contrive a TOLERABLE 
 . Paradife." The converfation was in French, but the translation 
 is literal.
 
 I2O REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 tion, wit, and judgment. Dryden beftows high enco- 
 miums upon it, and prefers it to all theEngliih comedies in 
 his time ; and I believe it is flill entitled to the fame pre- 
 eminence. 
 
 THE MOCK DOCTOR ; OR, THE DUMB 
 LADY CURED; 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THIS is a tolerable translation from Moliere. The plea- 
 fant naviete of the original is not fully preferved, and in 
 fome paffages a low indecent humour is introduced, to fuit 
 the taftc of a London audience. The fongs are wretchedly 
 in the modern London tafte; and not a tranflation. 
 
 THE MISER : 
 A Comedy, by Fielding. 
 
 THIS is alfo a tranflation from Moliere, and executed 
 in a better tafte, and in more conformity to the original 
 than the former. But the affedled Coquette, the pert 
 Chambermaid, and the Footman, are partly moulded into 
 characters of modern Englifh comedy, and fuit ill with 
 the mafterly Simplicity of the reft, though they ferve to 
 make the play more current and entertaining on a Lon- 
 don theatre. 
 
 THE TWIN RIVALS : 
 
 A Comedy, by Farqubar. 
 POPE fays juftly, 
 
 " What pert low dialogue has Farquhar writ." 
 Though his humour is often low, and what is much worie, 
 often indecent, yet he had talents for writing comedy. 
 He copies well from low life. His characters are natu- 
 ral, maintained with uniformity, and well diftinguifhed. 
 But his higher characters are affected. His plots are a- 
 mufing, but commonly deficient in judgment and regu- 
 larity ; and upon the whole, his plays will always be en- 
 tertaining on the ftage, though they will not ftand with- 
 out cenfure, a trial of tafte and juft criticifm in the clofet.
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. I 21 
 
 THE PROVOKED HUSBAND : 
 A Comedy, by Vanburgb, and Cibber. 
 I THINK this is the very beft of our modern comedies. * 
 The characters, both high and low, are formed from real 
 life, finely diftinguiihed, and exactly maintained. The 
 ferious converfations are elegant, yet natural. The co- 
 mical part is, in a high degree, entertaining, without in- 
 decency. The plot is interefting, and the cataftrophe is 
 jufl, for merit and virtue are encouraged and rewarded; 
 vice and folly are chaftifed, and expofed to contempt. 
 
 THE RECRUITING OFFICER: 
 
 A Comedy, by Farqubar. 
 [Vide Remark on The Twin Rivals.] 
 
 THE WAY OF THE WORLD : 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 CONGREVE writes with the greateft purity of language, 
 and all the charms of wit. But we muft be told, in the 
 courfe of the dialogue, who are intended for wits, and who 
 for fools, otherwife we could hardly diiliuguifh them, 
 they all fpeak fo wittily. Indeed, the author utters his 
 own wit and language in every character, with little di- 
 flinclion. His plots and cataflrophies are generally per- 
 plexed and improbable. Though the language is pure 
 and proper, yet I cannot help thinking, that it is often 
 too fludied, and even affected, either for natural conver- 
 fation, " Such as men do ufe," f or for the true dramatic 
 dialogue. The characters are, however, well diflinguim- 
 ed, for the mofl part properly maintained, and the true 
 fpirit of comedy prevails in many of his fcenes. 
 
 * The word MODERN is here applied to comedies written fine* 
 the Reftoration. This explanation appears neceflary to make 
 the prefent article confiftent with the encomium beftowed on 
 .' The Silent Woman." 
 
 f BEN JOHNSON. 
 
 i L
 
 122 HEM ARKS OK ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 THE GENTLE SHEPHERD: 
 A Scots Paftoral Comedy, by Allan Ramfay. 
 THIS excellent piece does honour to North Britain. 
 There is no paftoral, in the Englifh language, comparable 
 to it, and I believe there is none in any language fuperior 
 to it. 
 
 THE FAIR PENITENT: 
 
 A Tragedy by Roive. 
 
 THIS author has the merit of fentiment, delicacy, and 
 powers, to touch the unthinking tender paffions ; but 
 Shakefpeare is my model of dramatic excellence, and the 
 companion diminifhes Rowe. He is tod romantic in his 
 plots. There is a flowing famenefs of language in all his 
 characters, and he pours out a profufion of poetical words, 
 without any meafure of Shakefpeare's nervous ftrength, 
 and fententious meaning. I do not think this play, either 
 bad, or good enough, for particular criticifm. 
 
 THE PLAIN DEALER: 
 A Comedy by Wycherly. 
 
 THIS play, has a good deal of pleafant wit, and fevers 
 fatire. The characters are well diftinguifhed and preferv- 
 cd, and the plot is lefs perplexed than in the bulk of mo- 
 dern comedies. A wretched attempt was lately made to 
 alter this play, that is to mar it in the faftiionable way, to 
 adapt it to the prefent tafle. Perhaps it fucceded, and 
 had a run at London ; I am not informed, but I think it 
 probable, as it vulgarized a play of uncommon fpirit fo 
 very remarkably. 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET : 
 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 THE fancy, delicacy, and love, in this play, the inimit- 
 able production of Shakefpeare's genius, are, in my opi- 
 nion, bloted by the alterations and additions. I can al-
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS 
 
 low the propriety of retrenching fome of his fccnes, but 
 I do not think it poflible to add, or alter, in the produc- 
 tions of fo fingular and fuperior a genius, without appa- 
 rent incongruity, and abfurdity, though a London audi- 
 ence cannot perceive it. The very attitude of the prints 
 fhews a prevailing ill tafle ; they are theatrical and affect- 
 ed, unlike Shakefpeare and Nature. The original con- 
 clufion of this play might be retrenched; but as it ftands, 
 will be efteemed by true judges, as infinitely fuperior in 
 poetry, judgment, and force, to the modern alteration. 
 It ends with a melancholy, yetpleafmg reconcilement of 
 the two familes: and with thefe two fimple, natural, and 
 tender lines, 
 
 " For never was a ftory of more woe, 
 " Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." 
 
 which the reader of tafte may compare to the ftiff unmean- 
 ing modern ones. 
 
 " Well may you mourn, my Lords, now wife too late; 
 " Thefe tragic iffues of your mutual hate . 
 " From private feuds, what dire misfortunes flow; 
 " Whate'er the caufe, the fure efieft is Wooe. 
 
 CORIQLANUS: 
 
 A Tragedy, by Sbakefpeare. 
 
 JUDICIOUS readers will find much more of Shakefpeare's 
 merit, and peculiar genius in this piece, than our critics 
 allow. On the whole, I think the managers and critics 
 difcover a remarkable defecl of true tafle and judgment 
 in the modelling of this play; which, from Shakelpeare's 
 precious materials, might eafify be formed into one of 
 the moft pleafing and perfect entertainments on the Bri- 
 tifh flage. I rnufl often repeat, that in modelling Shake- 
 fpeare's plays for acting^ judicious retrenchment, and 
 Sometimes an alteration in the arrangement of fcenes, 
 may be allowed, but not a word to be altered or added. 
 I have an opinion, almoft to devotion, of his peculiar and 
 extraordinary genius, and can hardly forbear application 
 
 Lij
 
 124 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 of a fcriptural anathema to fuch innovators.* The con- 
 du 1 of Goriolanus, rightly judged, was neither bafe nor 
 treacherous. It was noble. Though induced by the en- 
 treaties, and indeed by the irrefiflible perfuafions of his 
 excellent mother, he faved the ungrateful Romans, yet 
 he made a prudent and advantageous peace for the Vol- 
 fcians. Confcious of innocence, he deferted not their 
 fervice, but returned with their army, and in open fe- 
 nate, with his ufual magnaniihity, maintained his de- 
 fence, and was facrificed, not to the juftice of the ftate, 
 but to the jealoufy of his ambitious rival. Shakefpeare 
 lias moft forcibly and judicioufly introduced his juftiEca- 
 tion, in his mother's admirable fpeech, which apparent- 
 ly convinced Aufidius himfelf. She fays, 
 
 '< Thou know'ft, great fern, the end of war's uncertain. 
 
 *' If it were fo tn-it cur renueft did tend 
 
 " To fave the Romans, thereby to deflfo7 
 
 The Volfcians, whom you ferve, you might condemn us, 
 
 " As poifoners of your honour; no, our fuit, 
 
 ' Is, that you reconcile them; that each, on either fide, 
 
 ' Give all hail unto thee, and cry be bkjt 
 
 *' For making up tie peace!* 
 
 In this fair view, the Coriolanus of hiflory, and of 
 Shakefpeare, is a great ancient character, mifunderftood 
 by our puny modern critics. 
 
 KING HENRY VIII. 
 A Tragedy^ by Sbakefpeare. 
 
 THE critical introduction to this play is proper, juft^ 
 and fufficient; a fingular cafe 1 There is a curious and ex- 
 cellent original prologue to this play, which, with other 
 
 * For I teftify unto every man that heareth the words of the 
 prophecy of this book, If any man (hall add unto thefe things, 
 God fhall add unto him the plagues tkat are written in this book. 
 And if any man (hall take away from the words of the book of 
 this prophecy, God fliall take ...way his part out of the book of 
 life, ard out of the holy city, and from the things which are 
 written in this boo*, ivev. xxii. 18. ly.
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS, ISJ 
 
 invaluable parts of Shakefpeare, h in danger ofbemg loft, 
 by the fault of modern editors and emendators, who have 
 moil abominably fupprefled and altered his works. I \vifh 
 that his juft admirers, who will certainly join with me in 
 condemning the bulk of his critics, and all his emenda- 
 tors, would alfo concur with me in obtaining a new pu- 
 blication of the oldeft edition, without any criticifm or 
 commentary whatever ; otherwife there is a ferious dan- 
 ger that great part of the original may be totally loft, and 
 the reft confounded and corrupted by modern alterations 
 and additions. Among other fooliQi topics agitated by 
 fome of Shakefpeare' 1 s critics, they make a queftion if he 
 was a Proteftant. There are many proofs that he was ; 
 and one line of the Bifhop's admirable prophetic fpecch> 
 in this play, is decifive on the point, viz. 
 " God mall be truly known, &c. * 
 
 THE FIRST PART OF HENRY IV. 
 SHAKESPEARE'S genius tramples upon and tranfcends at 
 once, all the rules of criticifm, arid the dull folemnity of 
 
 After all, it feems extremely doubtful, whether Shakefpeare 
 was a Proteftant, or any thing elfe; for the ghoft in Hamlet is a 
 zealous Roman Catholic. The following fentence, in the Twelfth 
 Night, may help to explain his fentiments on religion- " If you 
 " defy f the fpleen, and will laugh yourfelves into flitches, fol- 
 " low me; yond gull Malvolio is turned Heathen, a very rene. 
 " gado ; for there is no Chriftian, that means to be f arid by believ- 
 " ing rightly, can ever believe fucb impoffible pa/ages of gro/nefs!* 
 On another part, in the fame play, Dr Johnfon obferves, that, 
 " It were much to be wifhed, that Shakefpeare, in this, and 
 " fome other paffages, had not ventured fo near profanenefs." 
 In the conclufion of the following extraft, the author feems to 
 hint his doubts on the nature of a future ftate. 
 
 " Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; 
 
 " To lie in cold obftruftion, and to rot; 
 
 " This fenfible warm motion to become 
 
 " A kneaded clod. 
 
 { Our Critic has here, for once, ventured to corre5l Shake- 
 fpeare, and with evident propriety. Dejire is the common read- 
 ing. -Note by the Editor. 
 
 Liij
 
 126 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 critics, in this admirable play. Too much of the Origins! 
 is fupprefled. But this commendation is due to our ft, 
 reformers, that none of them have dared to alter a word, 
 or to add a word, in the parts of the Henrys and Falftaff. 
 What Dryden, playing on the word, fays, of the Church- 
 of England, may be applied here, 
 
 " And lefs deform'd, bccaufe rcform'd the leaft." 
 
 THE DRUMMER: 
 A Comedy, by Add'tfon. 
 
 I INTEND to have this piece taken into a volume of bad 
 plays by good authors, in which Sir Richard Steele's Ten- 
 der Hufband mould have a place, if I can find it. 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF HENRY IV. 
 
 THE capital characters are preferved with amazing fpi- 
 rit and uniformity in this Second Part, though it pleafes 
 not the critics, and the million, fo well as the Firft. 
 
 The flage managers have taken monflrous liberties with 
 this pby, and have fupprefled whole fcenes, fome of them 
 in the highefl flyle of Shakefpeare's excellence. For this 
 infamous depredation, the lovers of Shakefpeare can only 
 be indemnified, by reforting to the original. For one 
 example, the firfl fcene may be ranked with the higheft 
 and belt of Shakefpeare's writings, yet is totally fuppreff- 
 ed in this play, though it has been almofl wholly intro- 
 duced by Colley Gibber, into different places of what he 
 called his Richard the Third. 
 
 THE TEMPEST: 
 
 A. Comedy* 
 
 THIS play is one of the wonders of Shakefpeare's geni- 
 us. He flies into the regions of romance, and imagina- 
 tion, and yet forms characters and fcenes that feem na- 
 tural and credible.
 
 HEMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. *? 
 
 THE ALGHYMIST : 
 A Comedy, by Ben Jobnfon. 
 
 THE alterations and additions in this play, were framed- 
 by Garrick, to make his London audience laugh, and fo 
 are good for nothing. 
 
 THE CHANGES : 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THIS is the only old play which has been altered to ad- 
 vantage ; becaufe it is the only one altered by a man of 
 true taile and genius. This was Buckingham. I hardly 
 know a more amufing play for the ftage, or the clofet. 
 Here ia no conflrained improbable plot, no modern fludied 
 language and affe&ed wit ; but comical adventure, eafy 
 converfation, natural humour, and true character, fuch as 
 comedy ought to be, and rarely is. 
 
 THE SPANISH FRIAR : 
 A Tragi-Comedy, fry Dryden. 
 
 DRYDEN had many excellencies, and many faults. His 
 dramatic pieces are generally bombail in the poetry, and 
 abfurd in the plots, and were juftly the main butt of Buc- 
 kingham's wit in his excellent play, The Rehearfal. Of 
 his numerous pieces, the prelent is the only one which cart 
 be produced as a proper entertainment on the flage. His 
 other works entitle him to a high rank among our poets* 
 His profe writings have merit, though his dedications are 
 fulfome and fervile. 
 
 EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR : 
 
 A Comedy, by Ben 'Jobnfon. 
 
 THIS is an admirable comedy, though it is rather defec- 
 tive in plot. The fcenes are highly entertaining, and the 
 charailers are drawn and maintained with the fined 
 flrokes of nature, humour, and fenle. Garrick's prologue 
 is very good, but I cannot commend his alterations in the 
 play. They are miferably diflinguimable from the origin- 
 al, but good enough to pleafe the bulk of his audience.
 
 1*8 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 No word of Johnfon or Shakefpeare can be changed, but 
 for a worfc. 
 
 I doubt if ever Garrick wrote any thing fo well as the 
 prologue to this play, which indeed is admirable. 
 
 KING HENRY V. 
 A Tragedy, by Aaron Hill. 
 
 With what a difgraceful motely.of nonfenfe and abfur- 
 dity has the modern poet confounded the beauties of 
 Shakefpeare in this play. 
 
 As a fpecimen of modern emendation, it may be worth 
 while to compare the ancient and modern prologues. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 BY SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 O FOR a mufe of fire that would afccnd 
 
 The brightefl heaven of invention! 
 
 A kingdom for a ftage, princes to aft; 
 
 And monarchs to behold the fwelling fcene ! 
 
 Then fhould the warlike Harry, like himfelf, 
 
 Aflume the port of Mars; and at his heels, 
 
 Leafht in, like hounds, fhould famine, fwo.rd, and fire 
 
 Crouch for employment. But pardon, Gentles all, 
 
 The flat unraifcd fpirit that hath dar'd, 
 
 On this unworthy fcaffold, to bring forth 
 
 So great an objedt. Can this cock-pit hold 
 
 The vafty field of France ? or may we cram, 
 
 "Within this wooden O, the very cafkes 
 
 That did affright the air at Agincourt ? 
 
 O, pardon ; fince a crooked figure may 
 
 Atteft, in little fpace a million; 
 
 And let us cyphers to this gieat accompt, 
 
 On your imaginary forces work. 
 
 Suppofe within the girdle of thefe walls 
 
 Are, now confined two mighty monarchies, 
 
 Whofe high up-reared and abutting fronts
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. J 2O, 
 
 The p<- !. us narrow ocean parts afunder. 
 
 . iece v,;.;!. our imperfection with your thoughts, 
 
 Into a thoufand parts divide one man, 
 
 And make imaginary puifance. 
 
 Think when we talk of horfes, that you fee them 
 
 Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth: 
 
 For 'tis your thoughts that now muft deck our Kings, 
 
 Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times, 
 
 Turning the accomplifhments of many years 
 
 Into an hour-glafs ; for the which fupply, 
 
 Admit me Chorus to this hiftory; 
 
 Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray, 
 
 Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 BY AARON HILL. 
 
 FROM wit's old ruins, Jbatfcafld o'er witb bays, 
 
 We draw fome rich remains of Shakefpeare's praife. 
 
 Shakefpeare! the found bids charm'd attention wake : 
 
 And our aw'd fcenes, with confcious rev'rence, flake! 
 
 Arduous the talk, to mix with Shakefpeare's Mufel 
 
 Rafh game ! where all, who play, are fure to lofe. 
 
 Yet what our author cou'd, he dar'd to try, 
 
 And kept the fiery pillar in his eye. 
 
 Led by fuch light, as wou'd not let hlmjiray, 
 
 He pick'd outjlars, from Shakefpeare's milky way. 
 
 Hid, in the cloud of battle, Shakefpeare's care, 
 Blind with the duft of war o'er look'd the fair : 
 Fond of their fame, we {hew their influence, here, 
 And place 'cm twinkling through war's fmoaky fphere. 
 Without their aid, we lofe love's quick'ning charms ; 
 And fullen virtue mopes, mfteril arms. 
 Now, rightly mix'd, the enliven'd paifions move, 
 Love foftens war, and war invig'rates love. 
 
 Oh 1 -cry'd that towr'ing genius of the ftage, 
 When, firfl, his Henry charm'd a former age, 
 u Oh ! for a Muie of fire, our caufe to friend, 
 u That Blight invention's brighteil heav'n afcendl
 
 1 
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLATfS. 
 
 That, for a ftage, a kingdom might befeen! 
 Princes, to aft, graced with their native mtin : 
 And monarchs, to behold the {welling fcene ! 
 Then, like himfelf, fhou'd warlike Harry rife: 
 And, Jir^d with all bis fame, blaze in your eyes! 
 Crouch'd, at his heels, and like fierce hounds, leafh'd in, 
 Sword, fire, and famine, with impatient grin! 
 " Shou'd, fawning dreadful ! but for orders, flay, 
 " And, at his nod, -jlart horrible ! away." 
 
 No barren tale t' amufe, our fcene imparts, 
 But points example at your kindling hearts. 
 Mark ia their Dauphin, to our Kin:' opposed, 
 The diffVent jjenius of the realms difclos'd: 
 There, the French levity, vain, boaflful, loud, 
 Dancing, in death, gay, wanton, fierce, and proud. 
 Here, with a filent fire, a tempered heat ! 
 Calmly refolv'd, our Englifh bofoms beat. 
 
 Art is too poor, to raife the dead 'tis true, 
 But nature does it, by their worth, in you ! 
 Your blood, that warm'd their veins, flill flows, the fame, 
 Still feels your valour and fupports their fame. 
 
 Oh ! let it wafle no more, in civil jar: 
 But flow, for glorious fame, in foreign war. 
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 THERE are fome very high ftrokes of genius in this play r 
 which, upon the whole, is admirable, and bears all the 
 ufual marks of the writer's fuperiority over our other dra- 
 matic poets. 
 
 The additional lines, fo much approved of by our cri- 
 tics, are truly modern, and fufficiently diflinguim them- 
 felves from the- original text. To intimate the Duke's 
 kind purpofe to Ifabella, Shakefpeare faid juft enough in 
 one fignificant line, which is only fpun out, in the five fi- 
 nical modern ones, for no other reafon but that the fag 
 end of the aft may have a rhyme to jingle at it, to pleafe
 
 REMARKS ON EKGL1SH PLAYS, 31 
 
 a. London audience. The conduft of the cataftrophe, in 
 fpite of our mod wretched critic's cenfure, is admirabljr 
 judicious, interefting, and entertaining. 
 
 THE INDIAN EMPEROR: 
 
 A Tragedy, by Dryden. 
 
 {From lihatis called a Seleft ColleElion of Plays, in three 
 volumes, by Mr Donaldfon, Bookseller, Edinburgh.'] 
 As bookfellers, are in general, the dulleft of mankind, 
 there can be no wonder that their Seled\ Colleclions are 
 very ill chofen. One of our poets gives a pleafant enough 
 reafon for this chara&er of boolcfellers 
 
 " Unlearned men, of books aflume the care, 
 " As eunuchs are the guardians of the fair. 
 
 The ill tafte of London has been gratified with great 
 variety; it is hard to fay when it was at the worft. He- 
 roic plays, as they were called, were long in vogue, till 
 exploded by The Rehearfal. A new train of dramatic 
 writings fucceeded, without the genius, and with all the 
 abfurdities of Dryden. Vide Bufiris, Zara, Mahomet, 
 Barbarofla, The Chriftian Hero, &c. &c. A new Re- 
 Jiearfal is much wanted. 
 
 ALL FOR LOVE: 
 
 A Tragedy, 
 
 IN this elaborate play, Dryden imitates Shakefpeare ; 
 and, by that imitation, excells himfelf, though ftill he is 
 far fhort of the judgment, genius, and happy expreflion 
 of that great matter. How wretched our modern pro- 
 logues and epilogues, compared to thofe of Dryden ? How 
 wretched Dryden's plays, compared to thofe of the older 
 poets ? but the tafle of every age feems to be happily fuit- 
 ed to the talents of its cotemporary bards. We have 
 been charmed with the quaint prologues and epilogues of 
 Garrick ; and we are daily pleafed with the flat laboured 
 produdions of cur namelefs dramatic poets.
 
 132 REMARKS ON ENGLISH I' LAYS. 
 
 THEODOSIUS ; OR, THE FORCE OF LOVE : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Lee. 
 
 A RAPTUROUS romantic play; it pleafes men, women, 
 and children, who have not formed their tafte upon the 
 fenfe and genius of Shakefpeare, but on modern novels 
 and plays. 
 
 OROONOKO : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Soutberne. 
 
 THIS is the only good play in the Bookfeller's Sele 
 Colledion. 
 
 MAHOMET THE IMPOSTOR : 
 
 A Tragedy, from Voltaire. 
 
 THIS Collection is wretched, but fuited to the tafte of 
 thofe gentlemen called Bookfellers. I give it a place in 
 my collection only as a patch to Sijakefpeare, and a monu- 
 ment, may it be fhort lived, of bad tafte. From this hard 
 cenfure, I mean to except the Siege of Damafcus. ft has 
 fome merit ; and there is indulgence enough in this ad- 
 miflion; perhaps the beft critics may blame it. But I pro- 
 ceed to the merits of the play in qutftion. Monfieur Vol- 
 taire could not abide Shakefpeare, which is not furprifing. 
 They were moft perfect oppofites, as a man of profound 
 abilities and wii'dom, is oppofite to a pleafant fuperficial 
 fop. A total want of genius, and even of tafte and pro- 
 priety for tragic compofition, is remarkable in every line 
 of this piece, at leaft intheEnglifhplay; yet ithas a great 
 run at London. The general admiration of this, and many 
 other dramatic pieces of the fame caft, affords full proof 
 that we are degenerate and ftupid. Douglas, the finglc 
 good tragedy of this age, was at-firft rejected at Lon- 
 don. Mahomet, Barbaroffa, &V. fcfc. live and flourifh 
 there.
 
 REMARKS ON* ENGLISH PLAYS. 133 
 
 THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Hughes. 
 
 THE epilogue, fpoken by Mr. Wilks, is filly, and very 
 like thofe in vogue at prefent. The prologue, fpoken by 
 Lord Sandwich, is finely poetical, and worthy of the oc- 
 cafion, and the actors. 
 
 The play, indeed, is fitter for fuch occasional perform- 
 ance, than common exhibition on the public theatre, 
 having various beauties, and great imperfections. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN HERO : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Lillo. 
 
 THE competition of this play is as full of dulnefs and 
 abfurdity as Mahomet, and lefs interefling in the plot, 
 
 LADY JANE GRAY: 
 
 A Tragedy, by Roive* 
 
 I CANNOT read an hiftorical play, without thinking of a 
 comparifon with Shakefpeare, by whom the characters of 
 nature are perfectly preferved, and yet raifed above tho 
 pitch of nature, by the force of a great and inimitable ge- 
 
 DON SEBASTIAN KING OF PORTUGAL : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Dryden. 
 
 THIS play is full of abfurdities and unnatural flights ; 
 yet we may diflinguifh them as the abfurdities of a poet 
 and a man of genius, unlike the nonfenfe of the moderns. 
 The moral is rigorous indeed. 
 
 JANE SHORE: 
 A Tragedy, by Rowe. 
 
 How ftrangely different is the Gloucefter of Shakefpeare 
 from the Gloucefter of Rowe. An audience of true judg- 
 ment and tafte, could not bear this comparifon on the fame 
 theatre. 
 
 M
 
 J 34- REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING : 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THERE is no\:, on the Britifh theatre, a more entertain- 
 ing play than this ; andl always thought that Benedict was 
 Garrick's mafterpiece, but grofsly injured by his altera- 
 tions. The curious and judicious reader, who has a true 
 tafle for Shakefpeare's genuine works, will be in fome 
 meafure amufed, but ftill more offended, with the modern 
 alterations and additions which I have pretty exactly tra- 
 ced out on the margin of the text. * The reader will, 
 with me, abhor the ftage-managers, who have vilely per- 
 verted, and never once reformed, or improved, our divine 
 .author. 
 
 In Act IV. Scene 3. Beatrice, Speaking of Claudio's 
 treachery cries out 
 
 Seat. " Is he not approved in the height a villain, that 
 hath flander'd, fcorn'd, dishonoured my kinfwoman ! O, 
 that I were a man ! what ! bear her in hand until they 
 come to take hands, and then with public accufation, un- 
 cover'dflander, unmitigated rancour O God, that I were 
 a man ! I would eat his heart in the market-place. 
 
 Bene. Hear me, Beatrice. 
 
 .Beaf..Talk with a man out at a window ? a proper 
 faying ! 
 
 Bene. Nay, but Beatrice. 
 
 Beat. Sweet Hero 1 me is wronged, me is flandered, 
 ihe is undone. 
 
 Bene. Beat- 
 
 Beat. Princes and Counts ! furely a princely teftimony, 
 a goodly count-comfect, a fweet gallant, furely ! O that 
 I were a man for his fake ! or that I had any friend would 
 fee a man for my fake !" tfc. 
 
 Vide Preface.
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYf. I3J 
 
 Here the judicious editor, inflead of feeing the beauty 
 of the break in the name of Beatrice, has altered it for 
 thateloquent monyfyllable BUT.* By this fample you may 
 judge of the havock made among Shakeipeare's other plays, 
 and in your own library, preferve the original author. I 
 look on -it as one evidence of degeneracy in fenfe andgood 
 taile, that thefe deteftable alterations have been fuffered, 
 and are flill allowed on the ftage. A judicious critic, yet 
 to come, may retrench fome parts of Shakefpeare. The 
 greatnefs and force of his imagination fometimes fly into 
 obfcurity, perhaps from defec"l of our fight. But it is im- 
 poflible both to alter and amend him. There is, in page 
 34th of this play, a curious alteration of the text, where 
 the critic makes the Clown laugh mofl improperly. Vide 
 Shakefpeare's advice to players in Hamlet " Let thofe 
 t; that play the Clown, fpeak no more than is Jet dawn 
 " for them. For there be of them that will themfelves 
 " laugh, to ktonjbme quantity of barren fpeftators to 
 " laugh too ; though, in the mean time, Ibme neceflary 
 " queflion of the play be then to be confidered. That's 
 " villainous, and (hews a moil pitiful ambition in the fool 
 " that ufes it." 
 
 THE COUNTRY WIFE : 
 
 A Comedy, by Wycberly* 
 
 THERE are wit, humour, eafy and lively converfation, 
 variety of character, and pleaflng adventure in this play; 
 but there is a very unpardonable want of delicacy and de- 
 cency. A lewd young fellow gains full credit to a report, 
 that he had, by a famionable misfortune, loft his virility. 
 By this means, he cuckolds all the hufbands, and lies 
 with all the women of the drama. There are, however, 
 weak fcenes in the play, improbabilities and, I think the 
 characters both of Pinchwife andSparkifli are outre. 
 
 * Vide Bell's edition, printed in 1774, Vol. II. p. 366, " regu- 
 " lated from the prompt books" of the two Theatres Royal in 
 London. 
 
 Mij
 
 13 REMARKS ON ENGLISH LAYS. 
 
 To make a dance of cuckolds at the end of this play, 
 is a judicious conduct in the author, but a fhamelefs ex- 
 hibition on a public theatre. 
 
 THE CITY WIVES; OR THE CONFEDERACY : 
 A Comedy, by Vanburgb. 
 
 THIS is one of thofe plays which throw infamy upon the 
 London ftage, and general tafle, though it is not deftitute 
 of. wit and humour. A people muft be in the laft degree 
 depraved, among whom fuch public entertainments are 
 produced and encouraged. In this fymptom of degene- 
 rate manners, we are, I believe, unmatched by any nation 
 that is, or ever was, in the world. There Is one good 
 line in the epilogue j but neither judgment nor moral in 
 the play, though there are ftrokes of wit, and fome de- 
 tached fcenes of humour in it. 
 
 THE SUSPICIOUS HUSBAND: 
 
 A Comedy, by Hoadly. 
 
 IT is well that I am only a private critic, othenvife 
 I could hardly avoid being torn to pieces for many of- 
 fences ; and, among the- reft, for avowing no great ad- 
 miration of this play. Perhaps, even in the fmall circle 
 of readers, who may chance to meet with, and chufe to 
 read my odd, irregular remarks, fome few may not mate- 
 rially differ from my opinions. But as I have broke all 
 terms of peace with the many, I defire to keep in my lurk- 
 ing-place, and fairly out of their fight. I have always 
 thought that this favourite play is not founded on a real 
 knowledge of life and manners, but upon a motely imi- 
 tation of characters and incidents in other plays. Bene- 
 dict, Don John, and Captain Plume, are the models of Ran- 
 ger. Strickland is but an ill copy of Kitely. Meggot is 
 a collective imitation of Marplot, Captain Brazen, Wlt- 
 tol, and other dramatic good natured half wits. The reft 
 of the characters are undiilinguifhable, and lerve only to 
 fill up a great part of the drama j for the whole diverdou
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 137 
 
 lies in Ranger. Till he appears, the audience yawn. Cla- 
 rifla is Marianna, ill drawn, from Fielding's Mifer. But, 
 though I am clear that this play cannot be juftly efteemed 
 as an original piece, it has the merit of better imitation 
 than ordinary, in our later comedy; and when the parts 
 of Ranger and Clariffa are well afted, it is a good enter- 
 tainment on the ftage ; yet flill it is a poor one, at beft, 
 in the clofet. And when examined with more attention 
 and judgment than is, or ought to be employed by fpec- 
 tators, it will be found that there are only two good fcencs 
 in it. 
 
 THE CAPRICIOUS LADY: 
 A Comedy. 
 
 ALTERED FROM BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. 
 
 WHATEVER ia this play is lively, proper, and charac- 
 teriflic, belongs to the ancient poet. The modern part of 
 it is motely, conftrained, and deviates from nature moil 
 widely ; yet it is not inferior to fome other modern 'alte- 
 rations of good old plays. Indeed the original, though it 
 contains fome excellent fcenes, is not of a piece, and is 
 not, on the whole, one of the bed of Beaumont's and 
 Fletcher's comedies. I fuppofe this play had a great run, 
 and high applaufe, at Covent Garden. 
 
 THE HISTORY AND FALL OF CAIUS MARIUS : 
 
 A Tragedy, by Ofway. 
 
 WHEN I read this and other plays in which Shake- 
 fpeare's writings are partly introduced, I always reflect 
 on a beautiful paflage in his Richard the Second, which 
 Dryden has jufUy celebrated in one of his Prefaces. 
 
 " As on a theatre, the eyes of men, 
 
 " After a well grac'd a&or leaves the ftage, 
 
 " Are idly bent on him that follows next, 
 
 " Thinking his prattle to be tedious; 
 
 ^ Even fo, or with much more contempt," fcfr, 
 Miij
 
 J3 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAY3. 
 
 This diftinftion is handfomely confefTed in the prologue 
 to Otway's play. 
 
 " Like greedy beggars that fteal {heaves away, 
 " You'll find he's rifled him of half a play. 
 " Amidft his bafer drofs you'll fee it fhine, 
 " Moft beautiful, amazing, and divine!" 
 
 THE FAIR QUAKER OF DEAL : 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 THE fea characters are well drawn and preferved; there 
 .are fome fcenes of humour and natural converfation, but 
 the two laft ads fall off. The plot is neither well invent- 
 ed, well wrought up, nor interefling. 
 
 SHE WOU'D AND SHE WOU'D NOT: 
 
 A Comedy, by Gibber. 
 
 THESE modern plays have fome merit, and afford enter- 
 tainment when well ac~led on the flage, but are liable to 
 many exceptions, and juft criticifm, when cooly confi- 
 dered in the clofet. 
 
 ULYSSES: 
 A Tragedy, by Roive. 
 
 THE genius of Shakefpeare formed natural charafters, 
 and converfation, and probable entertaining plots, dig- 
 nified above common life, by the power of true poetry. 
 This author has ventured to imitate his manner, but very 
 unfuccefsfully. Though there are fome happy drains of 
 poetry intermixed, yet, in general, the cireumftances of 
 the plot are romantic and uninterefling. The converfa- 
 tion is laboured in one uniform ftyle; and the characters, 
 like the compofitkon in modern drama, {ludied and arti- 
 ficial. 
 
 XIMENAj OR, THE HEROIC DAUGHTER- 
 
 A Tragedy, by Gibber. 
 THIS play is below critieifai.
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. I3f 
 
 BUSIRIS KING OF EGYPT: 
 
 A Tragedy, by Young, 
 
 THIS, I do think, is the moft abfurd and ridiculous Tra- 
 gedy in the whole of Monfieur Bell's Collection of the beft 
 Englifh Plays; and it is written by thegreat (as they call 
 him) Doftor Young. It is, however, hardly more emi- 
 nently extravagant and outre, than another Tragedy, 
 much admired by the many, and written by the fame au- 
 thor, viz. The Revenge. * What an audience 1 that fail- 
 ed to damn that play at the firft hearing. Yet it lives ta 
 this day, at the diflance of half a century, in Bell's Gol- 
 leclion of Choice Englift Plays. And we are tcld, is yet 
 a6ted with applaufe on the London ftage. The epilogue 
 has fome merit. 
 
 AMPHITRYON; OR, THE TWO SOSIAS: 
 
 A Comedy, 
 
 ALTERED FKOM DKYDEN, 
 BY HA\VKESWORTF. 
 
 THIS I fhall have bound up with Addifon's Drummer,, 
 as a bad play by a good author; with allowance, in this 
 cafe, that the modern reformer has made it worfe. j- 
 
 * To this lift, may be added THE BROTHERS. In one Icene 
 Dr. Y. introduces Perfeus imitating a paflage in Macbeth; but 
 the imitation is attended wtth fome very ridiculous circumftances. 
 - f If Hawkefworth falls behind Dryden, the latter is at leaft 
 as much inferior to Plautus. In the original Latin, there is a 
 long and very pleafing prologue, and the defcription of a battle, 
 in the very firft fcene of the play, has little to fear by acompari- 
 fonwith Epic Poetty. Of Plautus, atranflation in five large o&a- 
 vo volumes, has been publifhed, under the name of the late Mr. 
 Bonnel Thornton, and another Gentleman. Had their book re- 
 tained the Latin text, it mufthave been of value. The pretend*, 
 ed verfion is in blank verfe, and intolerable.
 
 *43 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 EURYDIGE: 
 A Tragedy, by Mallet. 
 
 ARTIFICIAL poetry, laboured language, and romantic 
 love are too remote from nature and Shakefpeare to 
 pleafe me; yet they commonly gain a temporary applaufe 
 from the fond many, and uninformed r-norajnce continues 
 to admire. The epilogue was no doubt received with 
 great applaufe. 
 
 " We are fuch fluff 
 " As dreams are made of." 
 
 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR: 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 IF there waS^nothing in Falftaff's character, as our cri- 
 tics defcribe it, but "rodomontades, lies, and jollity," 
 Queen Elizabeth would never have defired a continua- 
 " tion of it. But her judgment difcerned higher qualities in 
 it, a great meafure of fhrewd fenfe, and incomparable 
 humour. A continuation of the fame identical characler 
 in this play, without flattening in the leaft, is an amaz- 
 ing proof of the ilrength of Shakefpeare's genius. 
 
 AURENG-ZEBE: 
 A Tragedy, by Dryden. 
 
 THIS is by far the beft rhyming play in the Englifh lan- 
 guage; yet though it has beauties, it has many abfurdi- 
 ties. * I give great credit to Dryden for the elegant en- 
 
 * Such as the following couplet : 
 
 " Dara, the eldeft, bears a Gen'roui mind, 
 " But to implacable revenge Inclln'd." 
 
 The lines that follow are worthy of a place in the fublimeft 
 page of Lucretius or Juvenal. 
 
 " When I confider life, 'tis all a cheat ; 
 " " Yet fool'd with hope, men fa^ur the deceit ; 
 " Truft on, and think to-morrow will repay ; 
 " To-morrow's falfer than the former day, 
 " Lies worfe ; and while it fays we (hall be bleft 
 ' With fome new joys, cuts off what we po.Teft,
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 14! 
 
 eoiriium upon Shakefpeare, and his full confeffion of great 
 inferiority in his own dramatic talents. 
 
 The lines which I refer to, are in the prologue, and feem 
 to me fo jufl and beautiful, that I fhall take leave to iu- 
 1'crt them. 
 
 " But fpite of all his pride, a fecret fliame 
 ' Invades his breaft at Shakefpeare's facred name : 
 " Aw'd when he heai's his godlike Romans rage, 
 " He, in a juft defpair would quit the ftage; 
 " And to an age lefs polifh'd, more unfkill'd, 
 " Does, with difdain, the foremoft honours yield. 
 ' As with the greater dead, he dares not ftrive, 
 " He would not match his verfe with thofe who live ; 
 " Let him retire, between two ages caft, 
 " The firft of this, and hindmofl of the laft." 
 The poetry is fine, eafy, and agreeable, but there is 
 fomething abfurd, romantic, and fantaftical, in a great 
 part of the love, that is to fay, in a great part of the play. 
 Shakcfpeare never thought of love in this extravagant 
 fafhion. 
 
 *' Strange cozenage ! none would live paft years again, 
 " Yet all hope pleafure in what yet remain ; 
 ' And from the dregs of life think to receive 
 " What the firft fprightly running could not give. 
 " I'm tir'd with waiting for this chymic gold, 
 " Which fools us young, and beggars us when old." 
 It is a pity that Dryden could not have feen the third volume 
 of Colonel Dow's work, as that volume is, perhaps, the mod pa- 
 thetic and interefting hiflorical compofition now extant. The 
 fate af this very Dara, is, in particular, irrefiftibly affefting. There 
 is another book, intitled, Memoirs of Eradut Khan, tranflated 
 by Captain Jonathan Scott, and printed in 1786, which contains, 
 an account of the laft year of the reign of Aureng-Zebe. Some 
 letters written by that great monarch, a fhort time before his 
 death, are inferted, and contain a humiliating leflbn to the maf- 
 ters of mankind. Thefe works have not acquired the attention 
 they deferve ; and Mr. Gibbon has gone out of his way, to fneer 
 at Colonel Dow. But if Mr. Dryden had ever feen either of 
 them, he would at once have difcovered the richeft materials for 
 tragic poetry.
 
 142 KEJIARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 ISABELLA; OR, THE FATAL MARRIAGE: 
 A Tragedy, altered from Scutberne, by Hopkins. 
 ALL, or great part that is original of this play, is ad- 
 mirable. The fable is finiple, probable, and very interefl- 
 ing. The language is pure and proper, the. characters 
 well diflinguifhcd and maintained, and the poetry is in 
 feme paflages delightful. I fee no modern quaintn^fs, al- 
 fedtation, raving, orbombaft; but there are fo many la- 
 boured abfurditics in the kfl at, that I fufpedl the mo- 
 dern managers have tampwed with it. 
 
 CREUSA, QUEEN OF ATHENS: 
 
 A Tragedy, by William Wbitebead, Efq. 
 
 THESE is fomething very fingular in this play. The 
 
 poetry is good, the language is pure and proper. There 
 
 are in it no extravagant unnatural flights, no romantic 
 
 love, no modern bombafl. I can hardly find fault with any 
 
 particular part of it, yet I cannot much applaud the whole. 
 
 PLAYS WRITTEN FOR A PRIVATE THEATRE : 
 By William Davits. 
 
 NEWS; THE MALADY: 
 A Comedy, in three Afts. 
 
 THE MODE: 
 A Comedy, in Five Afts. 
 
 THE GENEROUS COUNTERFEIT : 
 A Comedy, in Five ASts. 
 
 BETTER LATE THAN NEVER : 
 A Comedy, in Five Afts. 
 
 THE MAN OF HONOUR: 
 A Comedy, in Five Ais. 
 
 I HAVE fome favour for this author, on account of his 
 good intentions to reform a taftelefs age, and entertain 
 US with fpecimens of genuine comedy. I read on, till my 
 patience failed, and till I was quite convinced of his in"-
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 143 
 
 ability to furpai's other modern dramatic writers. He 
 talks of Moliere as a pattern of excellence, without an_y 
 meafure of his happy genius. lie damns, and juftly, our 
 modern dramatic writers, without difcovering fuperior 
 talents. In place of a pleafant and eafy imitation, he 
 falls, like other modern comic writers, into a ftudied af- 
 fcdlation of nature. He is as fantaflical in his inftru&ions 
 to the players, as either Mr. Bayes, or General Burgoyne.* 
 \Vher34ie means to be either witty or pathetic, he is ut- 
 terly infipid ; and particularly in the abfurdity of invented 
 names to his Dramatis Perfo^, he outdoes even our mo- 
 dern farce writers. Of this, I mould let down fome in- 
 ftances for a monument, but Indeed every one of them 
 is remarkably foolim and affe&ed. To do him'juftice, he 
 has not much of the quaintnefs and outre which predomi- 
 nate, and pafs for wit and fpirit in this age, and perhaps 
 for that reafon, he has failed in the favour of the mana- 
 gers of our public theatres. Travellers may find amufe. 
 ment in a tranfient perufal of his novelties. 
 
 THE GAMESTERS: 
 A Comedy, by Shirley. 
 
 THIS, upon the whole, is an exceellent comedy. Though 
 the characters, in general, are loofe, there is no indecency 
 
 * This name founds ftrangely for comedy, and it may be af- 
 firmed without, prefumption, that, in the beft days of Britain, the 
 performance of fuch an author would hardly have been received 
 on the Stage. 
 
 It is true that a. Ccejar and a Frederick have condefcended to 
 write plays. But in them we vindicate fuch vivacity as the exu- 
 berance of genius, the fportive relaxation of a. mind incapable 
 of repofe, and too vaft to be comprefled by the limits of a fmgle 
 walk of excellence When a field-officer performs his public 
 duty better than any perfon elfe, the world has no pretence to 
 cavil at the nature of his private amuiements. But when an in- 
 dividual has retired from the fervice of his country, with the 
 moft unaufpici'ius circumftances, and when, with invincible hardi- 
 nefs, he once more thrufts himfelf into public notice, contempt 
 uiuft extinguish all reflections on his chara&er.
 
 144 REMARKS ON' ENGLISH PLA.73. 
 
 in it. The plot is interefting, well wrought, and the ca- 
 taflrophe is highly moral. The dialogue is proper and 
 unaffected. The characters are judicioufly diflinguifhed 
 and fupported. There is no forced wit, the bane of mo- 
 dern comedy and tafle, and the humour is natural, cha- 
 radleriftic, and entertaining. The evident falling off in 
 feme parts, I afcribe to modern alteration ; but I cannot 
 exactly determine, till I have compared it with the origin- 
 al, which I am very curious and impatient to do. There 
 is another play, a fort of tragedy nearly of the fame 
 title. Though it is very modern and mifembly outre, it 
 has I believe many admire; F. 
 
 PHILASTER : 
 A Tragedy, 
 
 AS ALTERED FROM BEAUMONT AND- FLETCHER, 
 BY WILD. 
 
 THIS, in fo far as original, is a charming play, to be 
 read over and over again. Sweet flmplicity, and tender 
 natural paflion, diftinguifh it from the laboured affe&ed 
 ftrains of modern tragedy, though ftill far inferior to the 
 force and genius of Shakefpeare. 
 
 THE GUARDIAN: 
 By David Garrick, Efq. 
 
 [From a Collection of the moft EJleewcd Farces. ~\ 
 How flrangely different is this piece from the nature, 
 fenfe, and humour of the old plays of Shakefpeare, John- 
 fon, Beaumont and Fletcher. I fliould fcore every line, 
 and make the fluff illegible, if I took my ufual method 
 to mark by fcoring, what I damn as infipid, fiat, affedl- 
 ed, or unnatural. It was received with rapture at Lon- 
 don, and yet pleafcs on that ftage. 
 
 THE APPRENTICE : 
 A Farce, by Arthur Murfrby Efq. 
 FARCE and mummery indeed! Itisnoteafy to conceive 
 by what fafcination of acYmg, this piece plcafss any au-
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH fLAYS. I4J 
 
 dience on earth ; but outre is the taftc of the times. I 
 can hardly think that Garrick had fo little judgment, as 
 to approve of this performance ; but he knew, that with 
 the help of his art, and the grimace of other actors, it 
 would charm his audience, and " put money in his 
 " pocket." 
 
 THE ANATOMIST ; OR, SHAM DOCTOR : 
 
 By Edward Raven/croft, EJg. 
 
 GRIMACE again, in place of good old fenfe, and hu- 
 mourous nature. This too, is a favourite modern enter- 
 tainment. The character of the French Doctor is natu- 
 ral, and ludicrous enough ; the reft is in the ftudied,- af- 
 fected, low, modern tafte. 
 
 FLORIZEL ANDPERDITA; OR, THE 
 SHEEP-SHEARIXG: 
 A Dramatic Pajlaral. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE is here mangled as ufual j yet it follies in 
 this Collection of modern Farces. 
 
 HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS: 
 
 By David Garrick, EJq. 
 
 IT is quite inconceivable how this piece, flat and in- 
 flpid in perufal, mould be fo managed as to afford a run 
 of entertainment on the ftage. There is in it a juft fatire 
 on the infamous li-centioufnefs of Englifh fervants, and 
 a low kind of humour, moftly affected, and whol'y unna- 
 tural. The beft part of the fatire is levelled again ft high 
 life, and is an awkward imitation of the incomparable 
 Beggar's Opera. 
 
 TASTE : 
 
 By Samuel Fcote^ Efq. 
 
 I VENTURE to aflert, that this age has produced no ge 
 nius for comic entertainment, but Foote alone. Yet eve n 
 he is far fliort of the flerling humour, fenfe, and happr
 
 146 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 expreffion of the old poets. He was a diffipated pleafant 
 fellow, and could not afford the pains or patience of form- 
 ing a complete piece of regular comedy, if the Minor is 
 not one. Yet his farces are amufing on the ftage, and in 
 the clofet. 
 
 THE UPHOLSTERER: 
 By Arthur Murphy, Efq. 
 
 THE outre prevails in every character and fcene, to 
 pleafe a London populace. 
 
 LETHE: 
 
 By David Garrick, Efq. 
 
 THE fcene which exhibits Lord Chalkflone is good. 
 The reft are trivial, and quite in modern tafte. 
 
 THE DEUCE IS IN HIM: 
 
 By George Co/man, Efq. 
 
 THIS piece has uncommon merit. The plot is well fan- 
 cied, and agreeably managed. The dialogue is natural 
 and charafteriftic, without fiatnefs, or that fludied corn- 
 pofition of the poet, which appears, for the moft part, in 
 our modern comedy. I am agreeably furprifed to find, in 
 this very modern Collection, one piece on which I can 
 beftow fuch commendation. 
 
 THE KNIGHTS. 
 
 THE plot is foolifh enough, and the foolifh characters 
 are ludicrous and diverting enough, to pleafe, very highly, 
 a London audience. 
 
 THE SULTAN : 
 By Samuel Fcote, Efq. 
 OE can fay nothing of this, but, that it is nothing at
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 147 
 
 THE CHAPLET : 
 By Mofes Mendez, Efq. 
 
 THE Beggar's Opera is the only mufical entertainment 
 of true genius in the Englifh language, I mean of the 
 comic fort. The Comus of Milton is in a higher flyle. 
 Whoever can read thefe pieces, or has feen them perform- 
 ed on the ftage, and can bear with patience this, and all 
 the refl of our Englifti operas, 
 
 " May juftly be reckoned an afs." 
 
 I except our charming Scots paftoral, the Gentle Shep- 
 herd, and defpife all diftinftions of South and North Bri- 
 tain ; happy, and vain to think, that Shakefpeare, Mil- 
 ton, tfc. were my countrymen, in fpite of ihallow par- 
 tial pride. 
 
 MISS IN HER TEENS : 
 By David Garrick, Efq. 
 
 THOUGH the characters are affe&ed as ufual, it requires 
 a good deal of artful grimace and foolery in the actors to 
 make this thing fo laughable, as it commonly is, upon 
 the flage. Hardly any of our modern dramatic poets have 
 the clofer capacity to obferve Shakefpeare's divine leflbn. 
 44 O'erftcp not the modefly of nature, for any thing fo 
 44 overdone, is from the purpofe of plays, whofe end both 
 a at the firft, and now, was, and is, to bold, as it were, 
 44 the mirror up to nature, to fhew virtue her own fea- 
 44 ture, fcorn her own image, and the very age and body 
 44 of the time, its form and prefiure. Now, this ever- 
 44 dene, or come tardy off, though it make the unfkilful 
 44 laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the cen- 
 44 fare of which one muft overfway a whole theatre of 
 44 others. Oh 1 I have feen plays, and heard them praif- 
 14 ed, and that highly, which imitated humanity abomi- 
 44 nably." 
 
 The Decies repetita placebit of Horace, will not apply, 
 at leafl in perufal, to many of the pieces in this Golleaion. 
 But travellers of fenfe and tafle (they do not crowd our 
 
 Nij
 
 148 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 
 
 highways and inns) may find amufement in fome of 
 I deferve at leifl forgivenefs from every travelle,. .- 
 landlordwho keeps an open houfe, mould not be cenfured 
 for a difh he likes, though an ill one at his table. But 
 every traveller is welcome to damn me as a bad critic, if 
 he thinks proper. I beg, once for all, that the Englifh 
 traveller who may chance to calthis eye on thefe remarks, 
 will believe, that when I exprefs contempt of a London 
 audience, which I moft heartily feel, I meaiuio reflection on 
 THE NATION IN GENERAL, NOR THAT AUDI- 
 ENCE IN PARTICULAR, but the bulk of them, who are 
 TiOt Englifhmen, but the fweepings of every country in 
 Europe. A part of them are undoubtedly fuperior judges 
 of the Englifh drama : but their voice is loft in the tumult 
 of an ignorant and licentious vulgar, great and fmall. 
 Time brings on their judgment to prevail ; and fuppreffes 
 from age to age, the fooleries pafr, for an endlefs fuccef- 
 iion of new ones. Thus, claflical productions are thinly 
 Scattered through the courfe of time, and thus antiquity 
 is juftly valued.* 
 
 * Mr. Congreve appears to have been exa&ly of this opinion, 
 with refpeft to the chara&er and tafte of a London audience. 
 In a letter, dated the 9th of December 1704, he fays, " Cibber 
 " has produced a play.f confifting of fine gentlemen, and fine 
 " converfation altogether ; which the ridiculous town, for the 
 " moft pan, likes ; but there are fome that know better" Vide 
 Berkley's Literary Relics, published in 1789. Many of Dryden's 
 prologues and epilogues contain nothing elfe but abufe of his au- 
 dience, whom he loudly charges with the want of candour, judg- 
 ment, and common fenfe. The Speftator tells us, that in his age, 
 indecency was expected in every new comedy. He adds, That, 
 for this reafon, many ladit s of bis acquaintance, werepartiularjy 
 careful to attend every new play, on the firft night. A notable 
 ,fpecimen of the virtue of our grandmothers ! It would be chime- 
 
 fThe Carelefs HufbanA
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. 149 
 
 THE MAYOR OF GARRET : 
 
 BY SAMUEL FOOTE, ESQ^ 
 
 THE fimple Jerry Sneak, and his termagant fpoufe, are 
 comical chara&ers. Jerry was created to fit the peculiar 
 humour of Weflon the player, and probably will never 
 be fo entertaining, by the performance of any future aft- 
 er. Major Sturgeon, a character outre, as ufual in mo- 
 dern comedy, fuited the extravagant drollery of Foote, 
 the author. The reft is infipid. 
 
 THE REPRISAL. 
 By Dr. Smollet. 
 
 THIS gentlemen had humour, and parts, of which his 
 Roderick Random, and fome other pieces, will be a lafl- 
 
 rical to queftion the judgment of Congreve and Dryden, or the 
 information of fo intelligent and polite a writer as the Spe&ator. 
 
 Trinculo, in the Tempeft, to the fame purpofe fays, " Were 
 " I in England now, as once I was, and hud but thisfifh painted , 
 " not an holiday-fool there but would give a piece of filver. 
 " There would this monfter make a man ; any ftrange beaft there 
 " makes a man ; when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame 
 beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian." 
 
 But Cowley comes clofeft to the prefent point : 
 
 ' Whilft this hard truth 1 teach, methinks, I fee 
 ' The monfter, London, laugh at me ; 
 " I ftiould at thee too, foolifh city ! 
 
 " If it were fit to laugh at mifery ; 
 " But thy eftate I pity. 
 
 " Let but thy wicked men from out thee go, 
 " And all the fools, that crowd thee fo, 
 " Even thou, who doft thy millions boaft, 
 
 " A village lefs than Iflington wilt grow, 
 " A folitude aimoft." 
 
 Thefe authorities, to which a thoufand others might be added, 
 are inferted only to vindicate the text from any fufpicion of im- 
 proper afperity. 
 
 Niij
 
 JJO REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 ing monument. In that now before me, the characters 
 of the Irifhman and Scotfman are natural and entertain- 
 ing. Heartly and the Lady are no characters at all. And 
 *o fuit the ungenerous pride of a London rabble, the 
 Frenchmen are too much debafed, and treated with il- 
 liberal contempt; though Captain Lyon's concluding 
 fpeech makes fome amends for this fault. The fongs are 
 in the low modern ftyle. Hearts of oak is borrowed. 
 
 THE DEVIL TO PAY: 
 By Charles Coffey, Efg. 
 
 COMICAL aftors in Jobfon, Nell, and the Lady, make 
 this piece laughable on the ftage. In private perufal, it 
 is lotv, flat and abfurd. There is one good fong in it, 
 page 68. and 69. The reft are execrable. Indeed, the 
 bulk of this Collection of celebrated Farces, are fuch, 
 that if you wilh to have entertainment, in feeing them 
 acted on the ftage, you mould never read one of them. 
 If you want to read theatrical pieces with tafte and plea- 
 fure, you muft go back to the old poets. Gay's " What 
 *' d'ye Call it" is the beft modern little piece or farce, 
 but is not to be expected in a Bookfeller's Collection.* 
 That muft be fuited to his own and the popular tafte ; 
 and fo what good ones you have, fall in by mere chance. 
 
 THE LYING VALET : 
 By David Garrick^ Efq. 
 
 WE have here a foolifh plot, no natural or interefting 
 character, and as little true original wit, or humour. 
 Garrick, in all his pieces,, copies from plays, not from 
 nature ; and yet by his great abilities as an actor, and by 
 his art as a manager, he gained, and long maintained, a 
 fovereign direction of the London tafte. 
 
 This fort of familiar gentleman, and pert fpeech-making 
 footman, are characters very current in modern comedy 
 
 When thi Colle&ion was publiflimg, ur critic advifed the 
 compiler to ihfert this piece, hot his advice was rejected. Note 
 by the Editor.
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. IJI 
 
 and efpecially in the plays of Vanburgh, Congreve, and 
 Gibber, but are not to be found in nature or real life, in 
 the old plays of true genius. 
 
 THE VIRGIN UNMASKED: 
 
 By Henry Fielding, Efq+ 
 
 THE affected ftyle and character prevail fo much in this 
 piece, that I wonder not it is in vogue. The fongs too 
 are wretched. 
 
 THELYAR: 
 By Samuel Foote, Efq. 
 
 THERE are fome things diverting, but many more trif- 
 ling in this piece. Extravagance and pleafantry arc 
 blended through the whole of it. There is much good 
 humour in the firft fcene, part of which has been injudici- 
 oufly fupprefled by the managers. The Footman's fami- 
 liarity and pleafantry are not unnatural, as ufual in mo- 
 dern comedy, and are well accounted for by the curious 
 Liftory of his life. 
 
 THE CUNNING MAN: 
 
 By Dr. Charles Burney. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE and Milton only had the power of conjura- 
 tion. This is miferable fluff. 
 
 THE OLD MAID: 
 
 By Mr. Murpby. 
 
 I NEVER faw the original. This may be a good piece 
 in France, but I am fure it is a trifling one in England. 
 
 THOMAS AND SALLY : 
 
 By Bickerftaff. 
 InGgnifkant, filly, modern fing fong.
 
 152 REMARKS ON ENGLISH FLAW* 
 
 CRONONHOTONTHOLOGOS : 
 
 By Mr. Carey. 
 
 A BURLESQUE on modern tragedy ; in fome paflages 
 pleafant enough, but every attempt to imitate the Rehear- 
 fal has hitherto been very defective, though there is great 
 abundance of new matter for fuch exquifite criticifm and 
 juft ridicule. The plays of Young alone, though yet adV 
 cd, and admired by many, afford more examples of un- 
 natural flights, quaint conceits, and every fpecies of dra- 
 matic abfurdity, than all the plays, ridiculed in the Re- 
 hearfal. 
 
 NECK OR NOTHING: 
 
 By D. Garrick, Efq. 
 [Fide Remark on the Lying Valet.} 
 
 THE LOTTERY : 
 By Henry Fielding, Efq. 
 
 FIELDING'S humour makes a figure in his Romances, par. 
 ticularly in Tom Jones, though the quaint and outre arc 
 fometimes to be met with. He alfo difcovers judgment, 
 knowledge of human life, and nature. But, in his Farces 
 and Songs, he is generally fiat and vulgar. This pert in- 
 fignificant foppery, is in the true ftyle of modern wit. 
 The epilogue is, I fuppofe, much admired at London. 
 
 THE MUSICAL LADY: 
 
 By Mr. Colman. 
 
 IsuVposEthe charm of this piece, at London, lies in 
 fome perfonal imitation or mockery of known Italian fing- 
 ers. It is no doubt admired, for it is very fantaflical, 
 and at the fame time very dull. The prologue is in & 
 defperate mode indeed.
 
 HEMARKS ON ENGLISH PLAYS. t$$ 
 
 MIDAS : 
 
 A Burhtta, by Kane O'Hara, Efq. 
 WHAT power of afting, mufic, or fong ! What fliew of 
 fcenery can make this piece an entertainment to any au- 
 dience above the age of pupillarity ? When one has feert 
 no theatrical entertainment but a puppet-mew, or a har- 
 lequin, he may be excufed for being highly diverted at 
 mere grimace, or the coarfe jokes of Punch and his Wife. 
 But I often wonder, that an audience accuflomed to fee 
 the plays of Shakefpeare, can endure the bulk of other 
 tragedies j or, that the fpe&ators of a Beggar's Opera can, 
 fuffer this, and almoft every one of the other comic ope- 
 ras in our language, to pafs one night without damnation. 
 Yet a mafs of fuch mean mufical pieces have flourimed, 
 of late years, on our theatres; founds without fenfe or 
 humour, and mere mufical notes without a {ingle fpark 
 of poetical genius. 
 
 THE CITIZEN: 
 By Arthur Murphy, Efq. 
 
 WHEN our moderns try to write in the flyle of natural 
 character, and converfation, they fall into a medley of 
 infipidity and affedation. They can bear no comparifon 
 to the old poets, Shakefpeare, Johnfon, and Fletcher, 
 whom they mean to imitate. 
 
 THE TOY-SHOP : 
 
 By Dodjley. 
 
 TKEKE is in this piece a mixture of quaintnefs with good 
 fenfe and fome wit ; but it is fo full of ferious thought 
 and ftudied expreffion, that I cannot conceive how any art 
 of afting can make it a proper or agreeable entertaiment 
 on the flagc.
 
 154 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 THE GOLDEN PIPPIN: 
 
 By O'Hara. 
 
 THIS is an odd, fantaftical, mufical trifle, with fome hu- 
 mour in it, if well fung and acted; and at any rate there 
 is much foolery. 
 
 THE ENGLISHMAN IN PARIS : 
 
 By Foote. 
 
 THIS is a lefs negligent piece, than rnoft of Foote's^ 
 There is a good deal of chara&eriftic humour and plea- 
 fantry in it, very unlike the great bulk of modern come- 
 dy. And what is farce but a fhort comedy ? 
 
 THE ENGLISHMAN RETURNED FROM PARIS : 
 By Foote. 
 
 PROPRIETY, eafe, and humour, diflinguifh Foote's pro- 
 logues from the fludied ilrains of his cotemporaries. The 
 " Invita Minerva" of Horace is moft fignificantly expref- 
 fed by Shakefpearc. 
 
 u Extremely flrainM and conn'd with cruel pain.'* 
 
 This line is perfectly applicable to the bulk of modern 
 writing of all kinds ; Vide Warburton, Johnfon, Gibbon, 
 and almoft all our dramatic pieces, except Douglas. 
 
 This play is abfurd in the plot, loofe and ill digefled 
 in the fcenes, with a bafe tendency to promote national 
 pride and prejudices, difgraceful and baneful to England 
 in this unhappy age. Some paffages which the author in- 
 tended to obviate this cenfure, are fuppreffed by the wile 
 ftage-managers. Seepage xn, and 116. 
 
 THE INTRIGUING CHAMBERMAID : 
 
 By Fielding. 
 
 THE part of Trick is, as ufual, outre : yet the fingular 
 queernefs of a Glive, made it laughable to an audience 
 guided more by the performance of aftors, than the me-
 
 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PIA.YS. IJ5 
 
 rit of plays. The other parts of this piece are fo flat, that 
 no art or grimace of acting can enliven, or make them en- 
 tertaining to any audience, 
 
 POLLY HONEYCOMB : 
 
 By Colman* 
 
 THIS Polly is a fad flut ; the whole very bad as ufuaU 
 Affecting natural character and converfation, the writer 
 falls into mere fiatnefs and infipidity. What inundations 
 of nonfenfe are difcharged upon this unfortunate country, 
 in the fliape of prologues and farces, fc. 
 
 THE BRAVE IRISHMAN : 
 
 By Sberdian. 
 
 HERE is a moft wretched attempt to imitate, or rather 
 transform Moliere's play of Monfieur Pourceagna*. It 
 is an affront on common fenfe to publifh fuch trumpery 
 as efteemed pieces ; and bad as my opinion is of London 
 tafte, I can hardly think this " Brave Irifhman" could e- 
 fcape damnation the firft night. 
 
 THE AUTHOR: 
 
 By Foote. 
 
 THERE is here the beft modern prologue which I have 
 feen. Foote has a vifiblc fuperiority, when he chufes to 
 exert it, over the herd in this Collection, in his formation 
 of character, in humour, and in eafe, and propriety of ex- 
 preifion. Intermixed with this merit, there is a good deal 
 of ludicrous outre, intended, as I fuppofe, to fuit the pre- 
 vailing tafte of the multitude who fill the houfes, and are 
 beft diverted with mere grimace. 
 
 THE KING AND THE MILLER OF MANSFIELD: 
 
 By Dodfley. 
 
 THERE is a very good meaning, and fomething pleafing 
 in this piece. The defign and plot of it are worthy even
 
 Ij6 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 of a Shakefpeare's genius. His execution would have 
 been precious indeed. But quantum mutatus I 
 
 THE PADLOCK : 
 
 By Bicker/toff. 
 
 POOR enough. Yet there are worfe things in this Col- 
 ledion of " the mod eileemed Farces." 
 
 THE REGISTER OFFICE: 
 
 By Jofepb Reed. 
 
 IN -this piece there are a great number of laboured cha- 
 racters, and fome pleafant enough as times go. 
 
 CATHARINE AND PETRUCHIO: 
 
 By D. Garrick, Efq. 
 
 IT is very foolim to entitle this piece as the work of 
 Garrick. He was utterly incapable of any thing compa- 
 rable to it. Every flat and defective part of it is his. E- 
 very thing excellent, evwy thing that fhines in thii dark 
 Collection flows from the divine genius of Shakefpeare, 
 and will delight the reader of tafle, like a paradife in the 
 middle of a defart. A fcene of incomparable humour, in 
 which Catharine's obedient behaviour gains a belt, or 
 wager, to her huiband, is wholly, and moil unpardonably 
 -upprefled. The prevailing alterations of this author's in- 
 comparable plays, afford a monflrous proof of degeneracy 
 and ill tafte. Garrick, a great aclor, was a mere quack 
 in dramatic poetry, and mifled the world, like their quacks 
 in phyfic, law, politics, and religion, 
 
 CYMON : 
 
 Altered from D, Garrlck, Efq. 
 
 I ALLOW this to be the work of David Garrick, Efquire. 
 Much good may it do to his illuflrious memory, as a cob- 
 ler of plays and farces.
 
 REMARKS ON YOUNG S *JGKT THOUGHTS. 1 ffl 
 
 REMARKS ON YOUNG's NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 TIHS vifionary poet 
 
 u Makes fweet Religion 
 
 41 A rhapfody of words." SHAKESPEARS. 
 
 1 wonder not that his fon Lorenzo was an infidel. In 
 this age, we have two authors prodigioufly great in the 
 outre ftyle; one in verfe, and one in profe; one ferioua, 
 the other comical. They are both much admired by the 
 multitude of readers, commonly tilled by modern authors, 
 "*' the refpe&able public." There is a wonderful fimila- 
 rity in their talents, in quaint -expreffion, wild conceit, 
 and ftudied fetches of metaphyfical reverie. The poet is 
 Young : The Profe Quixote is Sterne. 
 
 In my opinion, our celebrated enthuflaft of this coun- 
 try, the Reverend Mr. Ralph Erfkine, in his Riddles, is 
 lefs extravagant. I am fure, that he fhould at leaft be 
 more amufmg and tolerable either to believers or infidels, 
 than Dr. Young in his woeful Nigbt Thoughts. I know" 
 no rule of criticifm fo juft, fo material, and fo general, 
 as one laid down by old Horace, importing, that good 
 fenfe is the only true principle and fountain of good writ- 
 ing and tafte. 
 
 44 Scribendi redte, SAPERE eft et prinolpium et fons." 
 I fhall examine the Night Thoughts by this rule, after 
 firfl inferting a few fpecimens of Ralph's Riddles. 
 44 I'm here and there and every where! 
 44 And yet I'm neither here nor there. 
 44 I'm fchool'd, though never at a fchool ; 
 44 I'm wife and yet a natural fool ! 
 44 I'm poor, and yet I nothing want ! 
 " I'm both a Devil and a Saint 1" 
 I could quote from the Night Thoughts many fimilar 
 paflages of fubtile and fantaftical antithefis; but I am a* 
 fraid, that the bulk of readers would take them for charm- 
 ing poetry. Thofe who can diftinguifh quaintnefs and 
 affectation from true fublimitv, will find fuch pafTages u 
 * O
 
 Ij8 REMARKS ON YOUNc's NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 ererypage; nay, almoft in every line. However, I fhall 
 hazard feme fpecimens which feem to refemble Ralph's 
 Riddles very much. 
 
 u AJ1 knowing! all unknown, and yet well-know.! 
 " Near though remote / and tho' unfathom'd, felt } 
 
 " And though tmijible, for cverfeen .' 
 
 " Know this, Lorenzo, (feem it ne'er fo flrange), 
 u Nothing can fatisfy, but what confounds ; 
 *' Nothing but what q/lonffies, is truej. 
 Speaking of man, he fays: 
 
 " An heir of glory ! a frail child of dufl I 
 " Helplefs immortal ! infect infinity ! 
 " A Worm! a God !" 
 
 The " Devil" and the " Saint" are hardly fuch exag- 
 gerated oppofites as the " Worm 1 ' and the " God." 
 
 The following extracts I leave, without ilhiftration, to 
 the common fenfe of the reader. I have fometimes quot- 
 ed, and fornetimcs omitted to quote the particular Night 
 and line at which the fpecimen may be found; but the 
 Do&or's ftyle is fufficiently marked. 
 
 " Procraftination is the thief of time I . . 
 " What can awake thee, unawak'd by this, 
 ''Expended Deity on human weal ? 
 
 Night 4th, I. 195. 
 u Oh love of gold! Thou meaneft of amours ! 
 
 Night 4th, I. 349. 
 " Are paffions, then, the pagans of the foul ? 
 
 f One of th venerable ancient fathers held a rery fimilar 
 maxim, Credo quia eji impofftbile. The name of this logician was 
 Tertullian. A great part of his works is exactly in the fame 
 ftyle. In particular, the reft of the very paragraph now quoted, 
 is fo grofsly indecent, that I dare not (hock the pious ear, by 
 attempting to inlert it. Yet our divines, of all defcriptions, are 
 inceflantly appealing to the authority of this man, who vrat, ia 
 every refpea, an hundred and Eftj degrees below Whifion or 
 Whitefield.
 
 REMARKS ON TOUNC's NIGHT THOrGHTS. Tjf 
 
 " Reafon alone baptized? alone crdain'd 
 
 44 To touch things facrcd. 
 
 44 Oh ye cold-hearted, frozen, formalists ! 
 44 On fuch a theme 'tis impious to be calm; 
 44 PaJJion is reafan ; tranfport, temper, here. 
 
 Night 4th, 1. 629. 
 
 *' Devotion, when lukewarm, is undevout. - - 
 44 Lorenzo ! haft thou ever weighed ajigb f 
 *' Or ftudied the pbilcjbpby of 'tears? 
 
 Night 3th, I. 516. 
 
 44 Death^s dreadful advent is the mark of man, 
 44 And every thought that mifles it, is blind. 
 44 Revere thyfelf : and yet thyfelf defpife. 
 
 Night 6th, I. 128. 
 
 44 Man's mifery declares him born for blifs s 
 44 His anxious heart afferts the truth I fmg, 
 44 And gives the fceptic in bis bead the lie. 
 
 Night 7th, I. 60. 
 
 44 Man's heart eats all things, and is hungry ftiil ; 
 44 More, more ! the glutton crys: 
 
 I&rf. 1.123. 
 
 ** The world's all tith-page, there's no contents ; 
 44 The world's z\\face; the man who {hews his heart, 
 *' Is hooted for his nudities^ and fcorn'd. 
 
 Night 8tb, 1. 333, 
 
 " Lorenzo ! 
 
 44 This is the moft indulgence can afford; 
 44 Thy atfdom all can do, but make thee -wife; 
 44 Nor think this cenfijre is fevere on thee ; 
 44 $ara, thy matter, I dare call a dunce. 
 
 Night 8th, 1. 1414. 
 
 " When pain can't blifs, heaven quits us in dejpair. 
 Night 9 th, 1. 497- 
 
 After all, and as fome apology to the numerous admir- 
 ers of Dr. Young, I allow that there are flrokes and paf- 
 fages of genuine poetry to be found, though thinly fcat- 
 tered, among the wild cffufions of this long and laboured 
 
 Oij
 
 ifc EEMASKS ON YOtTNG ? S NTGHT THOUGHTS. 
 
 poem. I refer, in particular, to the firfl five lines of 
 Night Firft, and to the thirteen find lines of Night Fourth. 
 For the fake of ju-ftice to our author, the two p*ffagcs 
 fliall be inferted at full length. 
 
 Night Tirjl* 
 
 * Tir'd nature's fweet reftorer, balmy fleep ! 
 ** He like the world, his ready v.ifit pays, 
 " Where fortune fmiles: the wretched he forfakes? 
 11 Swift, on his downy pinions, flies from woe, 
 " And lights on lids unfullied by a tear.. 
 
 flight Fourtb. 
 
 ** A much indebted mufe, O Yorke ! intrudes, 
 " Amid the fmiles of fortune and of youth ; 
 41 Thine ear is patient of a ferious fong.. 
 " How deep implanted in the breafl of man 
 * l The dread of death ? I fing its fov'reign cure. 
 
 " V/hy ftart at death ? Where is he ? Death arriv'd 
 *' Is pafi ; not come, or gone; he's never here, 
 " E'er bope, fenfaticn fails; black-boding man 
 " Receives, notfuffers^ death's tremendous blow. 
 " The knell, the fiircud, the maltock, and the grave; 
 44 The deep damp vault, the darknefs and the worm; 
 w Thefe are the bug-bears of a winter's eve, 
 M The terrors of the living, not the dead. 
 From this, the writer runs wild, and continues with 
 very flight andtranfient lucid intervals, to the end of the 
 poem. 
 
 The following lines, at the beginning of Night Ninth, 
 may be confidered as one of the beft paflages in this 
 poet. 
 
 " As when a traveller, a long day paft 
 
 " In painful fearch of what he cannot find, 
 
 u At night's approach, content with the next cot, 
 
 w There ruminates, awhile, his labour loft; 
 
 " Then cheers his heart, with what his fate afToroX 
 
 u And chants his fonnet to deceive the time,
 
 64 Till the due feafon calls him to repofe: 
 
 44 Thus I, long-travell'd in the ways of men, 
 
 * And dancing, with the reft, the giddy maze, 
 
 44 Where difappointment fmiles at hope's career, 
 
 44 Warn'd by the langour of life's ev'ning ray, 
 
 44 At length have hous'd me in an humble fhed ; 
 
 44 Where future wandMng banifiVd from my thought, 
 
 44 And waiting, patient, the fweet hour of reft, 
 
 44 I chafe the moments with a ferious fong. 
 
 44 Song foothes our pains ; and age has pains to foothe. 
 
 The following detached lines, among others, difplay the 
 fpirit of poetry, blended with conceit, and affedation. 
 
 44 How rich ! how poor ! how abjeft ! how augufl ! 
 44 How complicate, how wonderful is manl" 
 And again, fpeaking of Narcifla: 
 
 44 Early, bright, tranfient, chafte as morning dew ! 
 44 She fparkled, was exhal'd 1 and went to heav'n." 
 
 REMARKS UPON A JOURNEY THROUGH THE 
 CRIMEA TO CONSTANTINOPLE: 
 
 In a Series cf Letters from the Right Honourable Eliza- 
 beth Lady Craven* 
 
 I WAS tempted to purchafe this book, price one pound 
 four millings, becaufe it partly defcribes foreign coun- 
 tries where I have lately travelled. The fine female au- 
 thor prattles agreeably, and in a fort of good modim Eng- 
 lim language. But me does not over-load her readers with 
 material information. Her converfations with emperors, 
 princes, and embaffadors, have no tendency to excite en- 
 vy in the minds of inferior people. 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL DISSERTATIONS : 
 By J. B. Efq. 
 
 44 ELABORATE and little il$nificant" is a very general 
 character of modern authors, both ferious and coimcal. 
 I am afraid that David Hume, that able apoftle of infide- 
 lity, gains ground by the incapacity of his antagoniftj. 
 
 O iij
 
 c *6 2 y 
 
 MORAL TALES : 
 
 Tranjlatcdfrom MarmonteL 
 
 that thefe tales arc in vogue, for they are- 
 very abfurd and romantic. There is only one which I 
 have read \vith fatisfaaion, viz. " The Wife of Ten 
 " Thoufand." It is, I think, wrote in a better flyle r 
 with more propriety, character,, and intereft, than any 
 f the reft. 
 
 ANCIENT HISTO RY : 
 Tratt/hted from Rollin. 
 
 THIS work, in the original, is full of weak and frivo- 
 lous obfervations, which become ftill more flat by a bad 
 tranflation. However, it contains information for the 
 intelligent, and has otherwife merit enough to pleafe the 
 unlearned.* 
 
 There is manifeft abfurdity in Rollings application and 
 explanation of prophecies. Rollin himfelf was certainly 
 a weak fuperftkicus man. This charafter has recom- 
 mended him to the admiration of many, indeed to the 
 multitude of modern readers, both male and female. He 
 very ferioufly afcribes to God, all the extravagant mif- 
 chiefs done by Alexander the Great, and finds out that 
 he is clearly dcfcribed in the prophecies of*Danicl, by the 
 
 In a preface 1 to this volume, Rollin intimates that if Qvrintns 
 Curtius had lived before the age of QuintiHan, he would cer- 
 tainly have appeared in his catalogue of Roman Authors; and 
 Mr. Gibbon, has remarked, that " thofe who place him under 
 " the firft Caters, argue from the purity of his flyle, but are 
 ''- embarrafled by the filence of Quimilian, in \\isaccuratf lift of 
 " Roman Hiftoriansv" The paflage referred to is in the tenth 
 feookof Quintilian'sTreatite on Eloquence. Of Roman Hiftorians 
 he has named only four ; and adds '< Sunt et alii fcriptoris boni : 
 4 * fed nos genera deguftamus, non bibliothecas excntimus." 
 * There are other good hiftorians, but we are not here difcuf* 
 
 * fing the merit of libraries j we only touch ftightly on, the dif 
 
 ferent kinds of author*,"
 
 C '63 ) 
 
 Ram, an<3 the He-goat. To convey a true Idea of his clia 
 rafter, he Should be called Alexander the great Madman.; 
 and to characterize Louis le Grand, we Should call him 
 Louis the great Coxcomb. To Julius Csfar, to Henry IV- 
 f France, to Peter of RufTia, and to Frederick, we may 
 allow the title of Great, without a fimilar addition. 
 
 Rollin tells us, that 4t Alexander was dear to others, 
 " becaufe they were fenfible that he was before band 
 u with them in affeclion." His foldiers- were like all the 
 herd of mankind in all ages, exceedingly fond of vain ex- 
 travagant men of rank and power. The Roman foldiers 
 were fond of Nero T and the Swedes of our modern great 
 madma, Charles the Twelfth, 
 
 KEYSLER's TRAVELS, 
 
 44 MVCH ado about nothing," is the character of this^ 
 and a great many of our modern books. Probably the 
 translation does injuflice to the original, and makes it ap- 
 pear more trivial. At London, the trade of printing and 
 publishing books is often a mere piece of quackery. 
 
 THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, 
 L. L. D. 
 
 By Janus Bofwdl, Efq. 
 
 IF this biographer's judgment was in full proportion to 
 his vivacity, and Singular diligence, he would have given, 
 x much Shorter and miich better book. There are fome 
 good materials, but- 
 
 Apparent rarae nantes in gurgke vafto- 
 
 I own I grudged my two guineas, till I read JohnfonV 
 excellent Letter to Lord Chefterfield, which I think 
 well worth the money. There are other good k tiers from 
 him, and there are curious^ and fometimes very fagacious- 
 anfwers to {lender fuggeftions and queftions by Tom 
 Davies, Tom Tyers, Joe Warton, and certain other 
 companions of this extraordinary man. Upon the whole, 
 from a patient nerufel of this book, I am much reconciled
 
 r64 REMARKS Oy ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 to Johnfon's charader. With fupcrior talents, I think, 
 that though exceedingly vain, he wasagoodnatured man; 
 and that his prejudices againft poor Scotland, were not 
 fo irrational and unjuft as I formerly imagined. 
 
 Is there not a fable of ultimate friendship, between a 
 ferocious Lion, and a lively Terrier? What fays Peter 
 Pindar to thi? T is he filenccd, or is he fatisfied ? 
 
 VOYAGES D' ITALIE ET HOLLANDE : 
 
 Par J>L r Abbe Coyer. Paris. 1775. 
 I HAVE conceived fuch an rdea of an Abbe, that if he 
 turns author, I think he muft write in this ftyle and fa- 
 fhion; pert, flippant, pretty, with little fenfe and no- 
 iulidity. 
 
 AN INQUIRY INTO THE BEAUTIES OF 
 
 PAINTING: 
 
 JBy Daniel Webb, Efq. London 1760. 
 THERE is merit in this Treatife ; but it is more learned 
 and fcientific in the matter, than elegant in the compofi- 
 tion. 
 
 A VOLUME OF PLAYS : 
 
 As performed at the Theatre, Smcke Alley, Dublin, 1785.. 
 A SELECT colle&ion of ling-fong farces, in high repu- 
 taion, though without genius, fenfe, or humour. 
 
 I. THE DUENNA i 
 
 THE run of this piece has been great; eompofed in 
 imitation of the charming Beggar's Opera, without any 
 fufficient or juft refemblance. 
 
 II. THE AGREEABLE SURPRISE. 
 THIS is worfe than the other; feeble, foolifb, fantaili- 
 cally improbable, and unnatural. It furpafles my com- 
 prehenfiou, how the grimace of adlors.can make fuch thing* 
 pJeafant to any audience on earth. 
 
 III. LOVEA-LA-MODE:- 
 
 A Comedy. 
 
 WITH a good deal of the favourite outre, we find in 
 this piece, more fenfe, humour, and chara&er, than IB 
 moil of our farces*
 
 REMARKS ON ENCLISH PLATS. 165; 
 
 IV. The POOR SOLDIER : 
 
 A Comic Opera. 
 
 THIS piece touches the bafs-ftring of vulgarity ttfelf^ 
 affe&ed fimplicity, and unmeaning fing-fong^ yet it had 
 a vogue. I have fcored many paffages which no patience 
 ean bear. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DRAMATIC WORKS OF PHILIP MASSINGER : 
 
 4 vols. 8vo. Lcndsn 1761. 
 
 THE few who can tafte and relifh the fruits of genius will 
 find them here, but thinly fcattered. Old Horace, the on- 
 ly perfect critic of my acquaintance, the fenfible and ele- 
 gant Horace, fays, Interdum bonus dormltat Homerus^ * 
 and again, Non ego panels cffendar maculis. t Thefe 
 texts are applicable to Shakefpeare, and to Shakefpeare 
 alone, of all our dramatic poets. He fupports the dig- 
 nity of his fingular genius through the great bulk of all 
 his plays, though he fometimes, but rarely finks, and 
 produces obfcure, trifling, or fuperfluous paflages. Oa 
 the contrary, the bulk of Maflinger's writings in Trage- 
 dy are flat and diffufe, and he rarely finnes, hardly in. 
 any one whole fcene together. His beauties, though ge- 
 nuine, are as rare as the imperfections and faults of 
 Shakefpeare. In comedy, he is more fuccefsful ; and the 
 reader of tafte will find a due reward, even for the peru- 
 fal of his Tragedies. He will difcover golden ore in the 
 mafs of drofs; a commendation inapplicable to any tra- 
 gedy our age has produced., I except the Douglas alone* 
 
 THE VIRGIN MARTYR : 
 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 IT is aftonifliing what beauties there are in this old play,, 
 and what deformities. 
 
 * " Sometimes honeft Homer nods." 
 t I m not gfieaded bj a
 
 l66 REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 II. THE DUKE OF MILLAN : 
 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 OF this play the Editor obferves, that the fable in ge- 
 neral greatly refembles the tragical {lory of Herod and 
 Mariamne. He adds, u The modern play of that name is 
 ct more uniform and confiftent than this, but, in my opi- 
 *' nion, has not fo many fine independent paffages." It 
 is, indeed, perfe&ly modern. This has many beauties, 
 and nature mines in it; as afFedted poetry and laboured 
 dulnefs characterize Fenton's play. In Adi II. this Edi- 
 tor cenfures Maflinger for permitting theDutchefs to de 
 fccnd from her dignity to make fport for the galleries. The 
 old poets reprefent human failings and pafiions in cha- 
 radters of the higheft rank, for which they are cenfured by 
 our refined modern critics. Thus they condemn the di- 
 vine Shakefpeare, a poet, by nature, above the reach of 
 all critics, for the moft exquifitely fantaftical humours 
 in the character of his Cleopatra ; and they prefer the ar- 
 tificial, laboured, afFedted character of Cleopatra, by Dry- 
 den. After thefe remarks, it is needlefs to add, that 
 I confider Maffiuger, as in this inftance, perfectly defen- 
 lible. The publifher is right, that there is a degree of 
 genius in his old poet, but I think he fometimes miftakea 
 the drofs for the golden ore, and vice verfa. In the firai- 
 lies of this poet, there is commonly a want of that clear- 
 nefs and apt propriety which always attend the poetical 
 flmilies of Shakefpeare. 
 
 III. THE FATAL DOWRY : 
 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 THE lad aft of this play has more beauty and uniformi- 
 ty than any of the reft, and is, 1 think, in Maffinger's 
 ftyle altogether. It is a thoufand pities that this author 
 had not more judgment. He had great parts and powers 
 of dramatic compofltion.
 
 REMARKS OJf EXCLISH PLATS. 167 
 
 THE MAID OF HONOUR: 
 
 A Tragi-Coniedy. 
 
 IF there was a modern genius, but there is none, to re- 
 form the plot, to refine the grofs parts, and to make the 
 whole of a piece with the fuperior paflages of this play, it 
 would deferve a much better flage than the prefent Eng- 
 lifti one. It is in its original ftate unfit for any ftagc. On 
 this play a few verfes have been infcribed to the author, 
 by a horribly quaint fellow. He has many companions on 
 Parnaffus. 
 
 THE CITY MADAM, AND THE NEW WAY TO 
 
 PAY OLD DEBTS. 
 
 COMTAIN fine and rich, though negle&ed materials, 
 for excellent comedy. The biographers of our ftage, 
 inform us that Sliakefpeare was an intimate friend to 
 Maflinger, and that he occasionally aided him, of which 
 I imagine that the bell judges of Sliakefpeare, may trace 
 jn fiances. 
 
 THE WORKS OF HORACE, TRANSLATED INTO 
 
 ENGLISH PROSE: 
 .By Charles Smart, A. M. 
 
 THE fenfe and humour of Hoarce, arc as little undcr- 
 jftood by this tranllation, as his poetry. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE PUBLIC LAW OF 
 SCOTLAND: 
 
 By Gilbert Stuart, L. L. D. 
 
 AFFECTED language and unmeaning fpeculation, with- 
 out perlpicuity, without matter, without folid judgment, 
 but of a piece with the bulk of modern books, which ne- 
 ver will be ancient. 
 
 THE REGENT : 
 A Tragtdy, by Bertie Grtatbeed. 
 
 THIS applauded tragedy is worfe than any thing of the 
 kind I have feen. No {"park of genius, tafie, or fenfe, all 
 Invita minerva ; all quaint laboured fuflian. Tempera '
 
 t? REMARKS ON ENGLISH PLATS. 
 
 THE GENTLEMAN DANCING MASTER : 
 
 A Comedy, by Wycberly. 
 
 SOME fcenes of this play deferve our approbation. But 
 there are many unnatural converfations and quaint double 
 meanings quite in the character of fantaftical comedy, and 
 falfe wit ; fuch were the firft rate wits of Charles the Se- 
 cond, and they wouldbe great wits flill. Singular abfurdi- 
 ties pafs to this day for humour and diverting comedy. 
 J^JeThe Agreeable Surprife, and many more. DidWych- 
 erly write only to pleafe a foolish audience, or had he 
 fo little fenfe, as to fancy this matchlefs foolery true 
 comedy? Such another complication of abfurdities can 
 only be found in fome of our modern admired plays and 
 farces. 
 
 MUCH has been faid above refpecYmg the prefent (Itua- 
 tion and management of the London Theatres. To fhew 
 that abfurd exhibitions are not confined to them alone, 
 the following obfervations, communicated by a Gentle- 
 man from London, a few months ago, may afford an a- 
 greeable diverfity of amufement to the reader. 
 
 44 Though I goto few public places, yet what is called 
 lt puffing is carried on here to fuch extravagant perfec- 
 44 tion, that I was induced, by repeated advertifements 
 41 in the news-papers, to go to Aflley's, to fee the whole 
 44 houfe melted into tears by the affecting delicacy with 
 44 which Mr. Aflley's fuperior genius conducted tbe flight 
 44 and capture of THE ROYAL FUGITIVES. The King and 
 44 Queen of France who did not appear to have ever feen 
 44 company in aflate of feparation from Boxes, Pits, and 
 Li Galleries, were at firft in a moft furious hurry ; but 
 44 when the King perceived the Dauphin and Madame E- 
 44 lizabeth approaching, his royal feelings quite overcame 
 44 him. In their better days, his Majefty and his daugh- 
 44 ter the Princefs, had both been Tumblers ; he there- 
 44 fore, in a paroxyfm of grief, feized the Princefs juft 
 44 above the elbows, and without quitting his hol
 
 ,-TKE FRIENS. l6f 
 
 " her up as high as his head. He did not mean to throw 
 44 her Royal Highnefs over his head, but merely to bring 
 * 4 her face into contadl with his own. After going through 
 " the fame ceremonies with the Dauphin, all the Royal 
 *' perfonages joined hands, and in a flow and meafured 
 44 flep marched to the mufic, ufing great circumfpedtion, 
 44 and many geflures peculiarly fuited to their own ideas 
 41 of the occafion. Upon the whole, there can be no doubt 
 44 that had the King and Qjaeen of France been as com- 
 * 4 pletely difguifed on the continent as they are here, they 
 44 would not have been flopped in any part of Europe." 
 
 There is here no defign of reprefenting a London au- 
 dience as, by nature, inferior in tafle to the refl of man- 
 kind. In every part of the world, the mob are much the 
 fame and in no part of the world can fuch trumpery be 
 admired by fpectators, who deferve a better title. 
 
 THE FRIEND. ANCIENT AND MODERN. 
 
 Ir any truth could (Irike us with furprife t 
 Which happens every day before our eyes, 
 The firfl of wonders is, that all pretend 
 'To feek to value, to deferve a friend; 
 And yet that fcarce a couple can agree, 
 In this plain query what a friend mould be. 
 The prating prefes of an ale-houfe knot, 
 Thinks human wifdom center'd in the fpot. 
 The flave of learning poring out his eyes, 
 Pities the plowman, nature made as wife. 
 The fot feeks him who every care can drotun^ 
 The bruifer him who knocks a bully down. 
 Each terms, in turn, his company the beft, 
 And properly deipifes all the refl. 
 
 Difaflrous truth ccmpells us to declare, 
 That common friendfliip is as light as air, 
 That all its pleafures feldom pay the pains. 
 That half the rifle will balance all the gains 5 
 2 P
 
 170 THE FRIEND. 
 
 Nay, pious Young, expiring at fourfcore, 
 He who fo fondly fung its charms before, 
 Forgot the peers, he once was proud to praife, 
 Forgot the priefts with whom he fpent his days, 
 Forgot his quondam favorites of the quill, 
 Andjuft one tradesman mention'd in his will. 
 
 But though your bofom-friend may prove a rogue, 
 One comfort flill, depend upon your dog. 
 He with eternal patience bears the yoke, 
 And licks your hand juft lifted for a ftroke. 
 Nor will he for a bribe betray his truft, 
 But thinks he's well rewarded with a crufl. 
 No toil, no danger will your cent'nel fly, 
 For you he lives, for you he's proud to die ; 
 One generous thought fubliming all the reft, 
 Glows in his grateful, his intrepid breafl ; 
 Yet could he fee how meanly you defpifc 
 Superior worth in fuch a low difguife, 
 Th' indignant brute would ac~l his matter's plan. 
 And fink in want of honour like a man. 
 
 "Tis but a bitter comedy to trace 
 The woeful writhings in your patron's face, 
 When fondly catching fome unwary word, 
 You hint what help you know he can afford ; 
 With how much confidence you dare depend, 
 On the fine feelings of fo firm a friend ; 
 That well you know before fix months have run, 
 No living mortal for a doit {hall dun. 
 Then with domeflic mifery fill his ears, 
 Your children trembling, and your fpoufe in tears ; 
 And beg he'll condefcend to plead your caufe, 
 And for one day fufpend the turnkey's paws j 
 Defcribe the jail, and importune relief 
 With all the earnefl eloquence of grief. 
 Behold his featurei freezing in a grin, 
 To hint the tendernefs that glows within ; 
 From gay to grave, in half a minute four, 
 He vows relief lies far beyond his power.
 
 THE FRIEND. 
 
 " I have a world of work on hand to-day, 
 44 And muft at fix attend upon the play ; 
 u My foul takes fire at fuch a fcene of love, 
 44 For who like Jaffier can our pity move ; 
 44 And yet when Belvidere begins to weep, 
 44 Some poor unfeeling blockheads fall afleep : 
 " Though fhe's fo fweet, pathetic, and fublime 
 44 I'll hope to ferve you at fome better time. 
 " Thefe yelping brats have made your fpirits fail, 
 u Shylock, Tm fure, wont bury you in jail. 
 * c You fay the prifon is a horrid place, 
 * 4 But faith 'tis not fo horrid as your face ; 
 ** And after all this lamentable rout, 
 * k No man goes in, but foon or late comes out. 
 44 The cells, you cry, are cramm'd with putrid air, 
 44 Depend upon't you fhan't be buried there; 
 *' And when you catch the fever of the houfe, 
 44 The doclor for a fee will fet you loofe, 
 44 By fwearing that unlefs they let you go, 
 44 They muft, ere long, a winding meet beftow. 
 * 4 Befides, you know, that all the nation fwear, 
 44 Some rafcals never thrive till they go there ; 
 44 There, oft the tradefman feathers well his neft, 
 44 And there the righteous from their labours reft. 
 44 And if you're really nabb'd, pray let me hear, 
 44 By George ! the news will harrow up my ear. 
 44 But if you 'fcape the cage 1 hope to fee 
 44 My honeft friend fome night, next month, at tea. 
 " At tea, remark, for this new tax on wine 
 4i Is horribly oppreffive when we dine ; 
 44 And I mufl now be wifer than before, 
 44 And teach ceconomy to guard my door : 
 44 My fond good nature has been often bit, 
 " 'Tis more than time to learn a fpark of wit, 
 44 And were I juft as filly as to lend 
 44 But half a crown to every bankrupt friend, 
 " In fourteen days my whole eflate muft fly, 
 14 And for my hounds one loaf I could not buy. 
 
 Pij
 
 17* THE FRIEND. 
 
 u Of corn my hunters only can devour, 
 
 4t As much as fattens all our parifh poor. 
 
 tl Good bye The ponies to my coach are pat, 
 
 " In this damn'd weather who would walk a-foot.'* 
 
 And then ACHATES turns upon his heel, 
 
 And leaves you to reflect on what you feel. 
 
 And then you find how far you were beguil'd, 
 
 And guefs his gracious meaning when he fmil'd} 
 
 And ten to one your confcience will declare, 
 
 That you have fpurn'd fome poor dependent's pray'rj 
 
 That had you fill'd ycur benefactor's place, 
 
 Yourfelf had juft performed a part as bafe. 
 
 For mofl of us are but invidious elves, 
 
 Our narrow hearts feel only for ourfelves ; 
 
 Thofe few whom candour fcruples to deteft, 
 
 At friendfhip laugh as loudly as the reft. 
 
 But, mark fome fop untrain'd to ferious thought, 
 Who cannot have that fenfe he never bought, 
 Who ne'er has wander'd through misfortune's maze, 
 Nor wanted fycophants to found his praife, 
 Whofe falfe good n.iture floats upon the "whim, 
 That all mankind admire and copy him ; 
 "With foolifh, honeft ardour, he'll exclaim, 
 That all my end is merely to defame; 
 That thefe mean murmurs muft arife from art, 
 The fpecious croakings of a guilty heart. 
 For though but half were ferious, which I tell 
 That this fine world would be the porch of hell j 
 Whereas, a drove of bright divines atteft, 
 That all below muft happen for the beft. 
 Unhappy novice i and dar'ft thou pretend, 
 The u who ne'er knew'ft diftrefs, to know thy friend ? 
 Go then Thy thoufaiu's- with thefe friends divide, 
 And quick repentance {hall confound thy pride. 
 Thofe envied bleu^ngs on the mob beflow, 
 Which our plump panons call vain things below ; 
 Though not one lainc among them will refufe 
 To pick up the iaft farthing of his dues ;
 
 fcORACE, LIB. I. ObE XVIlt* 
 
 The partners of thy purfe will melt away, 
 
 Like ice diflblving in a Cummer's day ; 
 
 Then tfte vile farce of friendship malt thou find, 
 
 And curfe, with me, the bafenefs of mankind^ 
 
 And play old Timon's tragedy once more*, 
 
 As fifty thoufand fools have done before. 
 
 'Twas thus when Socrates began to build; 
 
 *' When (hall this hamlet with tnle friends be fill'd?" 
 
 Was all the arch old man reply'd to thofe 
 
 Who wonder'd why no prouder pile arofe. 
 
 Thus too While Greece his eloquence ador'dj 
 
 And PeruVs tyrant trembled at his fword, 
 
 While in the vulgar's eye he fi-gn'd to ftiine^ 
 
 "Wife Pericles let his preceptor pine. 
 
 No friend appeared, a morfel to fupply, 
 
 The Newton of his age lay down to die* * 
 
 But lo ! his worthy pupil comes at laft 
 
 And begs his benefactor not to faft ; 
 
 " And why, dear father, would you not reveal 
 
 " Your \vants to me, who all your forrows fecit" 
 
 Infulting lie ! more mocking than the wrong 
 
 Of letting the old martyr flarve fo long. 
 
 For when I feel fincerely for your woes^ 
 
 And really mean to help you to repofe ; 
 
 I read at once your wi/hes in your eye, 
 
 And when I can, at once, your wants fupply j 
 
 But fhaJl not bafely make my betters bend, 
 
 Nor in the BEGGAR wifh to fink the FRIEND. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XVIII. 
 
 DEAR Harry you cannot do better 
 
 Than Cover your fields with the vine. 
 How happy am I when your debtor 
 
 For a bumper of excellent wine ! 
 
 Anaxagoras, a Greek aftronomer, of diftingulmed merit. 
 
 Piij
 
 :?4 H6R4CE,- LIB.-I. ODE XVIII. 
 
 The care that Is cutting your bofom, 
 
 Before an old flaggon muft fly ; 
 The rofe to be fure cannot bloflbm, 
 
 When the bufhes are wither'd and dry^ 
 
 The coward encouraged with liquor, 
 On the mouth of a cannon will run, 
 
 The curate look briik like his vicar, 
 And the laureate will laugh at his dun. 
 
 The furly for once are good fellows ; 
 
 The graved are pay for a time ; 
 Then do you believe, what they tell us r 
 
 That cracking a bottle's a crime. 
 
 As April when painting the furrows, 
 Drives winter away to the pole ; 
 
 Champaign, by difpelling life's forrows, 
 Relaxes the froft ot the foul. 
 
 But the fot, who would always be drinking^ 
 
 Will very foon fee to his cofl, 
 That want mufl attend want of thinking, 
 
 And his friends with his money be loft. 
 
 The hofl, who has rifled his pocket, 
 Will fhow him the way to the door, 
 
 And bully like Peachum or Lockit, 
 Unlefs he can anlwer his fcore. 
 
 Of all vile deteflable vermin, 
 
 The vilefl on earth or in hell, 
 At leaft thus their pigeons determine, 
 
 Are fuch as have liquor to fell. 
 
 For when a young fool full of money, 
 
 Is galloping into the mire, 
 They pillage his hive of the honey, 
 
 And leave him to beg or expire.
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIIT. 
 
 DEAR Chloe, you fly from my love like a fawny 
 In fearch of her mother along the wild lawn, 
 When each ruftling breeze makes the fugitive flarty. 
 And each falling leaf gives a wound to her heart. 
 Young, timorous, innocent, Ghloe like you, 
 She fancies the hounds have htr always in view. 
 
 But tell me, ah ! tell me, dear beautiful maid, 
 For what is my charmer of Damon afraid ; 
 Do I like a panther approach to deflroy, 
 Your prefence, your fmiles, muft I never enjoy ; 
 Remember at leaft, that you're fairly fifteen, 
 And 'tis (let me fay fo) full time to be feen. 
 
 And, O! could you guefs what I feel for your fake r 
 That little proud heart fome compaffion would take. 
 ?n pining for Chloe I pafs the long night, 
 Or wake with a figh from fome dream of delight ; 
 In vain would I ran to a ball or a play, 
 For nothing can pleafe me when Chloe's away. 
 
 THE COMFORTS OF MARRIAGE: 
 
 WHEN Cinna earnM but twenty pounds a-year T 
 
 No dunning tradesman Cinna had to fear. 
 
 In debt to nobody, his heart was gay, 
 
 He look'd no farther than the current day ; 
 
 His income iufl allow'd a decent coat, 
 
 An alehoufe ramble coft him but a groat. 
 
 From him no barber had long bills to feek T 
 
 He clear' d with every claimant once a-week. 
 
 At night he drank fmall beer, and fmok'd, and read, 
 
 And flipt as fober as a nun to bed*
 
 Ij6 THE COMFORTS OP M.\RH1AGE. 
 
 He fhunrTd the fex. His fortieth year began 
 
 Before he durft effay the pleafures of a man. 
 
 Nay, when December chill'd the world with froft, 
 
 That month, when monks and maidens murmur moflj 
 
 When the cold meets were freezing to his fkin, 
 
 Like Ruth no laundrefs at his heels crept in ; 
 
 No drab to groping conftables could tell, 
 
 That he, good man ! had made her centre fvvell* 
 
 His blabb ng tongue no picus aunt could fear, 
 
 On him no bawd beftow'd her wanton leer. 
 
 At him, no cuckold bent the budoing horn, 
 
 Wenching, in every ftiape, he held in Icorn. 
 
 Surprifing fail ! in fuch a rampant age, 
 
 So pure a faint defcrves a brighter page. 
 
 Alas 1 how very feldom we have feen 
 
 The virgin fort refift us till fifteen. 
 
 But love of change ftill hnunts the human breaftj 
 Thus Indolence itfclf grows tir'd of reft. 
 The fot has now and then a fcber fit, 
 Mifers, by times, extravagance admit. 
 The veteran may make with childim fear, 
 And furgeons have been feen to fhed a tear ; 
 By turns the foolim follow Wifdom's rules, 
 By turns, the wife behave thernfelves like fools. 
 Though Fortune rumes in her richeil tide, 
 We figh for iome enjoyment yet untry'd } 
 In fearch of novelty our fancies tire, 
 Gaze at the moon, and ftumble in the mire. 
 
 And thus the hero of the prefent fong, 
 Having fo long gone right, at laft went wrong. 
 His wages trebling, Ginna took a wife, 
 That precious balfam for the wounds of life ; 
 But Care was quickly painted on his brow, 
 He found himielf in debt, he knew not how; 
 Such heavy, daily, damnable demands, 
 A guinea never halted in his hands. 
 
 His penfion mounted to five hundred pounds, 
 And this you'll fay, magnificently founds ;
 
 THEOCRITUS, 1DTLLIUM XXX. 177 
 
 ar the man muft very foon be rich, 
 Ifa] . , is his fpoufe feels the true fpendthrift itch. 
 With nine pert puppies yelping at his tail, 
 To talk of faving makes his patience fail. 
 Maids, midwives, milliners, and heav'n knows what, 
 Keep Cinna barer than a tar's old hat. 
 On parim rates, tithes, laces, lodging-rent, 
 Tea, china, claret, half his funds are fpent ; 
 Thrice nine and thirty couGns have implor'd 
 That help, his purfe, they cry, can well afford. 
 His precious rib has ventured to declare, 
 44 'Tis vulgar on one's legs to take the ahV* 
 In vain poor Cinna vows himfelf behind, 
 Plays, balls, and fiddlers, fill my lady's mind ; 
 And, as no man of fenfe experts to fee 
 Two females, two whole hours at once agree, 
 Ten times a-day his fpoufe and fervants brawl, 
 His dear defcendants every fecond fquall ; 
 His bed, his fhirt, they fteep in midnight ftreams, 
 Pox, worms, and meafles, haunt his morning dreams. 
 Each day commences with a cloud of bills, 
 For taylors, nurfes, fpel ling-books, and pills ; 
 To-night more cradles he mull buy or borrow, 
 And a twelfth lextou's fee pay down to-morrow. 
 And though, ye rakes, muy think he ihould rejoiot 
 To quit expence, vexation, toil, and noife ; 
 What agonies convulfe a father's breafl, 
 While Innocence is writhing into reft ? 
 
 Thus, to his fatal coll, hath Cinna found, 
 That wedlock's holy joys are juft a found; 
 That peace will end, where happinefs begins, 
 And wives are the grand fcourge of human fins. 
 
 THEOCRITUS, IDYLLIUM XXX. 
 
 VVHEN Venus faw her fwain 
 Expiring ou the plain,.
 
 178 THEOCRITUS, IDTLtlXJM XXX. 
 
 She fummon'd all the loves, 
 
 And bade them fearch the groves, 
 
 And bring the briflly boar, 
 
 Whofe teeth the fair Adonis tore. 
 The Cupids flew the foreft round, 
 
 And fbon the bloody favage found. 
 
 His fury for to check, 
 
 One tied him by the neck ; 
 
 Another, with his bow, 
 
 Began a drubbing to beftow. 
 
 Slowly pac'd the boar along, 
 
 He knew that he was in the wrong, 
 
 And trembled to be feen 
 
 By Love's avenging queen. 
 
 In words, like thefe, her pafiion burfl : 
 
 " Of all brutes, thou moft accurfl, 
 
 44 Why didfl thou gafh my lover's thigh? 
 
 44 Why let on him thy vengeance fly?" 
 The cunning boar had laid his plan, 
 
 And, very humbly, thus began : 
 
 44 A brute, O Venus, would you hear, 
 " By your facred felf I fwear, 
 44 I ne'er intended to deilroy 
 44 The lovely, much lamented boy. 
 44 But, when I faw his beauteous face^ 
 " (I own it to my fad difgrace) 
 " At once I kindled with defire, 
 4 ' And all my bofom was 'on fire. 
 " I thought it the fublimeft blifs 
 44 To catch, at leaft, a fingle kifs ; 
 44 I ran to touch his fnowy thigh, 
 44 But what a lucklefs wretch am 1 1 
 " Now, charming Venus, if you will, 
 44 The lover of Adonis kill ; 
 44 Or, if your goodnefs let me live, 
 44 Thefe tufks a facrifice I give ; 
 " And, if it be too little, pray 
 4t Cut my clumfy lips away."
 
 A TRITE TRUTH. 
 
 Venus believ'd the tale, and fo 
 Bade her Cupids let him go. 
 
 The grateful beaft refolvM to flay, 
 And followed Venus from that day ; 
 And, a juft penance to impofe, 
 Struck out the teeth that caus'd her woes. 
 
 A TRITE TRUTH. 
 
 "WHF.N by f<~me penur'd worthlefs rake, 
 
 A frail fond \it, in i<; outwitted; 
 Her rivals 1'uch an u} r< r.r wake, 
 
 As if Ihe ought not to be pity'd. 
 
 Mere envy makes their venom burft, 
 They view the rogue with palpitation, 
 
 And would, kind creatures ! if they durft, 
 Afford him inflant occupation. 
 
 But, if he's rich, and gayly dreft, 
 They rum like moths around the candle ; 
 
 And pleafure heaves each pouting breaft, 
 Which he prepares to prefs or handle. 
 
 They {brink, indeed, to let him fee 
 Their ftraight and finely taper'd limbs; 
 
 For though the heart is always free, 
 The head with affedlation fwims. 
 
 Their very toes are taught to fpeak ; * 
 
 To whet temptation they'll retire, 
 And while he follows, raife a fqueak, 
 
 That harmony may fan his fire. 
 
 How charmingly the bofom fwells ! 
 How fwc.-tly they defy his vaunting ! 
 
 * Naj, her foot fpeaks." 
 
 Taoivui and CHESJZJU
 
 r8o THE WORLD A3 IT GOES. 
 
 Each look, each amorous murmur, tells 
 For what their balmy tongues are panting. 
 
 His prefcnce is for ever fought, 
 
 And WHY our maidens may determine ; 
 
 Shall we mifpend one ferious thought, 
 On fervilc tyrannizing vermin, 
 
 Who perfecute without remorfe, 
 The helplcfs vidim of'defpair ; 
 
 But welcome, as a work of courfe, 
 The robber with a wanton flare. 
 
 The girl whofe petulance runs mad, 
 
 O'er the perdition of her fifler, 
 Is but a hypocriling jade, 
 
 Who rages that the fportfman mifs'd her. 
 
 THE WORLD AS IT GOES. 
 
 OF thofe we call the great, how very few, 
 
 The path to greatnefs happily purfue ; 
 
 By dear experience every day we find, 
 
 That riches commonly degrade the mind ; 
 
 That he, whotrain'd through want's inftruftiyc fchooJ, 
 
 Had prov'd a man of fenfe, becomes a fool ; 
 
 As dirt on all beneath himfelf looks down, 
 
 Nor feels for any forrow but his own. 
 
 Nor thefe alone our total cenfure claim, 
 All men are but another and tbefame ; 
 And he who molt at human folly rails, 
 Always m fome grand point of wifdom fails. 
 Let us, my friend, the varied fcene furvey, 
 Sketch out fome features of the parting day ; 
 And while the grinning world our faults declare, 
 Shew half the fpecies have an equal mare.
 
 TIfE VfORLD AS IT GOES. I 
 
 While one both foul and body rifles for wealth, 
 "The helplefs lord of thoufands begs but health ; 
 The lufty plow-boy wants a handfome wife, 
 His hen-peck'd fire in fecret curfes life. 
 The young regret the prudence of the old, 
 While age, with terror, feels the blood run coldj 
 The virgin pines her brittle toy to crack, 
 The teeming fpoufe expires upon the rack ; 
 While poor foot-pafTengers are quite bemii-'d. 
 The jolting coach her ladyfhip hath tir'd ; 
 The fober profe-man would be proud to rhyme, 
 The hungry bard deplores his lofs of time; 
 And while his groom would gladly ftorm his bridc^ 
 His Honour fnores, an wool-pack by her fide; 
 Nor kindles when her eye with paflion fwims, 
 Nor gives the receipe for female whims. 
 The bagnio-cully cannot {lamp an heir, 
 The beggar's afs-loads wring his heart with care. 
 Befides, each inftant that we crofs the ftreete 
 A troop of jolly wanton girls we meet, 
 Who cannot find one filk that's fit to wear, 
 Yet age, ih rags, with fcornful filence hear. 
 The admiral fliares fifty thoufand pounds, 
 The gunner fifty groats, and fifteen wounds. 
 For half a fidler's falary per week, 
 His curate, when to publifli or to fpeak, 
 Supplies the rofy dean with fermons and with Greek. 
 Though parching Spring denies an ounce of grain, 
 And putrid Auguft rots their hay with rain ; 
 Though fome fox-chace their harveft hath deftroy'd, 
 Or fome tithe law-fuit their whole cafli employ'd, 
 Whether his bond-men can or cannot pay, 
 His Grace wrings out his rent, at each term day ; 
 While law the jufti<*fc of his claim inforces, 
 lo pamper concubines, and hounds, and horfes ; 
 To buy his pimp a feat for fome pure borough, 
 T-3 bet on dice to-night, or on the turf to-morrow\
 
 I&2 THE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 Thus goes, and thus hath always gone the world, 
 Folly and Vice in one ftrange hodge-podge huiTd. 
 To hope amendment were the height of madnefs, 
 Apoftlefhip diflblves in fober fadnefs : 
 And Truth, concludes where an old bard began, 
 " Who'd be that fordid, wretched thing, call'd man ?" 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 A CERTAIN Philofopher lives in this town, 
 Whofe merit Melpomene means to difclofe ; 
 
 To whom every fal in all Nature is known, 
 But what lies immediately under his nofe. 
 
 His tongue, when you meet him, like thunder is loud, 
 And Folly and Lazinefs keep him as poor : 
 
 I cannot think what makes the pedant fo proud, 
 Or why that pale face is eternally four. 
 
 The Cynic, this morning, was trying his wit, 
 And plaguing a cobler, a plain merry man ; 
 
 The fellow who felt himfelf terribly bit, 
 
 Flung his awl on the floor, and got up, and began : 
 
 44 What fignifies learning without common fenfe ? 
 
 44 Or, why do we read what we cannot digeft ? 
 " Your ftudies produce neither honour nor pence, 
 
 44 But that horrid cough which is rending your breaft. 
 
 44 The end of all books is to better the heart, 
 44 Or with new ideas enlighten the head ; 
 
 44 And the Sage had done wifely in driving a cart, 
 44 Whom nobody living laments when he's dead. 
 
 44 You prove to a fecond, at what time of day 
 44 Achilles andHeftor began to engage ; 
 
 4 > You call them poltroons, yet have nothing to fay 
 44 When your doxy finds proper to fly in a rage.
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER. 183 
 
 " You teach us a fure way for winning of wealth, 
 
 44 And yet (who would think it) your elbows are out} 
 
 41 And while you are telling us how to keep health, 
 44 Each joint in your carcafe is wrung with the gout* 
 
 " You know that Queen Befs was a virgin mofl true j 
 44 That Mary, her vidlim, defervedly died ; 
 
 44 But how many pots to the landlord we're due, 
 44 Or one, or a dozen, you cannot decide. 
 
 ** When you look at the flcy you can fay, to an ell, 
 4i In how wide a circle old Saturn mould run ; 
 
 u But no duck or partridge as yet ever fell, 
 
 44 Nay, guefs'd at your aim when you levelled a gun. 
 
 44 You ftate to a {hilling the national debt } 
 
 44 A plan for its payment you long flnce made known } 
 
 44 But, with all this preciflon, I'd take you a bet, 
 44 You never fliall know the amount of your own. 
 
 * 4 You fpend half your life-time in poring on books j 
 44 Whata mountain ofwitmuflbecramm'dinthatikull I 
 
 44 And yet, if a man were to judge by your looks, 
 44 Perhaps he would think you confoundedly dull. 
 
 44 More happy, by far, is the clown at his plow, 
 44 Who never attempts what he cannot attain, 
 
 44 Than fuch a capricious haranguer as you, 
 44 With mad metaphyficks tormenting your brain. 
 
 44 And what is the value of Newton or Locke ? 
 
 44 Do they leflen* the price of potatoes and corn ? 
 " When Poverty comes can they foften the mock, 
 
 44 Or teach us how hunger is patiently borne ? 
 
 44 No innate ideas can mend a bad crop ; 
 
 u No fquaring of circles can temper the iky ; 
 44 Then all fuch wild vagaries promife to drop, 
 
 44 Or tell us in what does their excellence lie. 
 
 QJi
 
 J&4 THE FA1RT Ql?EEN- 
 
 " 'Tis very like folly, to wear out our eyes, 
 " In guefling the diflance and bulk of the fun ; 
 
 "* 4 I fear that a cat would be fully as wife, 
 
 44 To inquire when, and wherefore, balloons were bcg. 
 
 '* A fmall fhare of learning may ferve us while here t 
 44 The farce of exigence will foon have an end ; 
 
 4 ^ And without the fatigue of deep thinking, 'tis clear, 
 44 That age and infirmity mufl make us bend. 
 
 -'* Yoiutry to convince us that love is a crime, 
 44 That filling a bumper is arrogant foity, 
 
 w That no man of fenfe would take patience to rhyme ? 
 " That the Bible, forfooth 1 has forbid to be jolly.. 
 
 44 But I would not give one fond embrace of my lafs 
 44 For all the queer fecrets Sir Ifaac explor'd ; 
 
 4t Nor part with my fiddle, nor flinch from my glafs, 
 " Or the beef r or plumb-pudding that fmokes on my 
 44 board. 
 
 tt The tranfit of Venus your paffion employs, 
 44 In flaring at Sirius you lofe the long night; 
 
 a A tranfit more tender enhances my Joys, 
 
 44 When Polly impells me to plunge in delight. 
 
 * Her bofom, her clean taper'd ancles, difplay 
 u More eloquent charms than a limb of the moon : 
 
 ft When virginity foftens, {hall manhood cry Nay; 
 44 Ye Gods let me fhrink to an oyiler as foon !" 
 
 THE FAIRY QUEEN : 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 OF all the knights accuflom'd to refort, 
 From Cambria's wide domains to Arthur's court. 
 The hardy Lonval was exceU'd by none, 
 or ftill in danger's van, his valour fhonc.
 
 TltE FAIRY Qt'EEN'. iSj 1 ' 
 
 "thfo* twice fix fields, where drench'd with Saxon blood, 
 
 In war's grim front, victorious Arthur flood ; 
 
 The dauntlefs champion conquer'd by his fide, v 
 
 And, whether with his lance, he turn'd the battle's tide; 
 
 Or the keen falchion hafted from its fheath, 
 
 Thick dealt his Wounds, and every wound was death. 
 
 When peace returned, his manners were as mild, 
 
 As if with blood, his arms were undefH'd ; 
 
 From rivals, not himfelf, his praife began, 
 
 And foes who fear'd the hero, lov'd the man. 
 
 But.monarchs have, alas ! too much to mind,- 
 And Lonval, this fad truth was taught to find ; 
 The king forgot the prowefs of his fword, 
 Nor what in war he fpent, in peace rcftor'd : 
 For glory, not for hire, his blade he drew, 
 And fcorn'd, like others, to demand his due. 
 His fcanty fortune by degrees grew Jefs, 
 Nor did his comrades lighten his diftrefs, - 
 But rather view'd him with difdainful eyes, 
 For poverty both rich and poor defpife. 
 This Lonval felt ; nor Would the foldier's pride 
 Submit to fue for what might be deny'd. 
 
 Boiling with indignation and difguft, 1 
 
 In royal faith determin'd ne'er to truft, 
 Our knight, one morning, mounted on his horfc, 
 And o'er the fields purfu'd his folitary courfe. 
 He meant fome diftant region to explore, 
 And ferve his proud ungrate r ul prince no more. 
 To Arthur his defign he dar'd not tell, 
 Nor bade one fordid funfhine friend farewell ; 
 Content to live, nor yet afraid to die, 
 He left his native land without a figh. 
 He knew no fondnefs for that fpot of earth, 
 Where nature thruft him naked into birth ; 
 And why mould he forbear the world to range, 
 Who forfeits nothing by the hardeft change? 
 
 On the third noon, while paffing through a woodj 
 Before his eyes a large pavilion flood.
 
 J$& THE FAIRT QtTEEN^ 
 
 Two lovely darnfels drefs'd in rich arrayy 
 
 Approaching with a fmile bade Lonval flay. 
 
 They caught his bridle with a courteous air, 
 
 Told him to leave his courfer to their care; 
 
 And faid their princefs who hi^ worth admir'd y 
 
 His much lov'd prefence in her tent requir'd. 
 
 The knight atnaz'd at what he heard and faw, 
 
 Alighting, enter'd with refpedlful awe. 
 
 The lady rofe to meet him, and her face 
 
 From every feature beam'd celeflial grace. 
 
 With accents fweeter than the Syren's fong 
 
 She wonder'd he delay'd his route fo long ; 
 
 Then pr effing by the hand the blufhing knight^ 
 
 (No lily as her own was e'er fo white) 
 
 Into a fpacious hall flic Lonval led, 
 
 Luxurious plenty on the board was fpread. 
 
 She warm'd his courage with a bowl of wine, 
 
 He fought no fecond call- to reft and dine. 
 
 His brain with fuch opprefllve pleafure fwims; 
 
 The fairy's graceful height, her finely moulded limbs. 
 
 Each look, each motion, fets his foul on fire, 
 
 And every vein is raging with defire. 
 
 Few words are wanted here to intervene ; 
 You all forefee the fequel of the fcene ; 
 And only this remains for me to tell, 
 That gallant Lonval play'd his part fo well, 
 That in a trance of joy his Dido fwore, 
 She ne'er had known felicity before. 
 " My glorious veteran,*' the fairy faid, 
 44 Long have thy matchlefs feats been ill repaid, 
 44 And did not defliny my heart oppofe, 
 41 This day fhould pour my vengeance on thy foes ; : 
 44 Thy thanklefs chief fhould tremble in his blood, 
 44 And fhe-wolves litter, where his halls had flood. 
 44 What fcorn and mifery his- meal attend, 
 41 Who pines upon the bounty of a friend ? 
 44 Again to Arthur's caflle thou mufl fly, 
 * This purfe in plenty fhall thy wants fupply.
 
 THE PAIRT QtTEEJf. 1 8"jr 
 
 ** To wealth, like thine, each fuitor (hall give place, 
 
 * And fordid beauty wear a welcome face ; 
 
 " And when thy breaft with generous paffion warms, 
 
 u When love, or glory, vindicate their charms, 
 
 " When fond defire is flaftiing in thine eye, 
 
 " Or thy brow darkens, and the valiant die, 
 
 u This ring, thrice prefs'd r that inflant fhalt thou fee, 
 
 " Thy guardian, vifible to none but thee : 
 
 u I only charge thee to conceal my flame, 
 
 4t Nor dream I fhall endure a rival dame. 
 
 w A faithful fpy thy bofom Til explore, 
 
 " Then dread the fairy much, the female more." 
 
 The amorous queen embrac'd him and withdrew ;, 
 The fplendid vifion vanifh'd from his view. 
 Mounting his fteed, he faw with glad furprife 
 Arthur's tall battlements in profpedl rife ; 
 And by the fairy's aid fa quick return'd, 
 To prove his grateful heart, with ardour burn'd. 
 
 At court arriv'd, the fplendor of his gold, 
 Ten thoufand tongues with fpiteful wonder told r 
 Nor need we fay how faft his friends increas'd ; 
 How kindly he was call'd to every feaft ; 
 What deep attention every virtuous maid, 
 And wailing widow to his wifhes paid. 
 But Lonval met their proffers with difdain, 
 And love and friendship fped their fhafts in vain* 1 
 
 For 'twas his daily care on fome pretence, j 
 
 To lavifti more than double their expence. 
 Himfelf, his confort chofe it mould be knowny ^ "} 
 
 That Lonval had abundance of his own. 
 Yet no brave comrade, honefl, old, and poor, 
 Retir'd without his bounty from his door. 
 
 Now, what a fatal' farce is human joy ; : 
 
 How feldom fortune fmiles but to deftroy. 
 For Arthur's Queen, Geneura was her name, 
 Had heard, long fince, of Lonval's martial fames; 
 His manly form excited fond defire, 
 And all her bofom. glow'd with wanton fire.-
 
 1 98 THE FAIEf QTEENV 
 
 But when flic fought her paflion to reveal, 
 The haughty foldier foorn'd to hear her tale ;; 
 Nay, rafhly vow'd that far fuperior charms 
 Were at his will, devoted to his arms. 
 
 To jealous rage Geneura's fondnefs turn'd, 
 And all her bread for bloody vengeance burn'd : 
 Now in the monarch's prefence me appears, 
 Her locks difhevell'd, and her eyes in tears. 
 w And is it thus,," me cries, " in Arthur's court, 
 " That Arthur's queen becomes a traitor's fport ? 
 " A wretch of yefterday, on pity fed, 
 lt Who madly dreams to flain < is ibvereign's bed. 1 ' 
 And then /he tun'd a melancholy tale, 
 Of lull outrageous, and refiflance frail ; 
 With what flern virtue flie oppos'd the cheat, 
 How quick her fcreams compelFd him to retreat ; 
 Laft, and mod infolei.'t T to crown the whole, 
 What far more lovely miftrefs fway'd his foul. 
 
 Uxorious Arthur, prone to be deceiv'd, 
 The mournful clamours of his dame believ'd, t 
 And had the laws allow'd to vent his wrath, 
 Our haplefs knight had met immediate death. 
 But this deny'd, he chofe the fole refort, 
 To call his barons to a general court. 
 Lonval himfelf was iiimmon'd to attend ; 
 Next morn, an hundred chiefs the lofty hall afcend r 
 And though a party in the fuit confed, 
 The prince, in perfon, ranks above the red. 
 A knight appears, who to the queen belongs r 
 Begins her caufe, announces all her wrongs, 
 And then, to clofe the leclure, claims aloud 
 The jufl atonement of a traitor's blood. 
 
 Lonval, too late, difcover'd.to his cod, 
 The double ruin of his amorous boaft. 
 Nor would the fairy now attend his ring, 
 Nor could he hope to foothe his furious king, 
 Death he defpis'd, but then to leave a name- 
 Of guilt behind him, blafled all hU fame.-.
 
 THE FAIBY QUEEN. 
 
 Nor with lefs agv)ny his honour mourn'd 
 The fairy's generous love ungratefully return 'd. 
 tfc 1 ftand not here your pity to implore 
 " For one," he faid, w who values life no more. 
 " Nor fiia-11 1 with harangues harafs the court y 
 " The plea of innocence is. plain and fhort : 
 u Geneura knows on what a vile pretence 
 41 She at my conduct chus'd to take offence. 
 " But having now, by fatal raflinefs loft 
 " A love more godlike than the world can boafl, 
 " All leffer evils I muft blufti to dread, 
 4t Pour, then, the royal vengeance on my head i. 
 " That grateful Arthur may with triumph tell 
 u His fate, by whom fo many Saxons fell." 
 No doubt, the reader muft expect to hear 
 That Lonval's doom was inftant and fevere ; 
 That every orator had fold his vote, 
 And every venal placeman ftrain'd his throat ;. 
 That all obfequious to the monarch's nod 
 Were vain, like modern peers, to kifs the rod >. 
 That this fam'd maxim fway'd the patriot throng,, 
 A king of Britain never can do wrong. 
 With what a tone of fenfe the precept founds I 
 On this our happy confutation founds ; 
 And all agree who ruminate the cafe, 
 The fupeobutfture's worthy iuch a bafe. 
 No premier with excife opprefs'd us then, 
 Our anceftors, 'twas well, were wifer men. 
 No baron kept the key of Arthur's ftole, 
 Or for a paltry garter pawn'd his- foul. 
 No jockey flatelman to Newmarket ran, 
 Or hir'd, at Weftminfter, a bludgeon clam 
 No fenate fang the virtues of a whore, 
 Or tax'd tame Albion for a gambler's fcore. 
 No courtly judge, or perjur'd jury dar'd 
 A {trumpet's name from infamy to guard. 
 Jfo vicar of a tithe-fuit chofe to prate ; 
 No pettifogger iiick'd the vitals. of the flate.
 
 JQO THE FAIRY QUEEN. 
 
 What flrange reverfe to all we fuffer now^ 
 When every curate can arreft your plow ; 
 When judges tell us truth's a mortal crime, 
 And proftitution virtue's true fublime ; 
 When feats in parliament, what precious ware ! 
 Are bought like flails for cattle at a fair; 
 When ftill the more extortion grinds us down 
 With louder notes of joy, our wrongs we drowrir 
 A tax on burials who would dare difpute, 
 When 'tis to paj a bankrupt's birth-day fuit. 
 Behold the laft remains of common fenfe, 
 By hell-born fuperftition hooted hence ; 
 How is that bubble, human reafon, mamm'd, 
 While every faint believes his brother damn'd, 
 For points of faith too {hocking to be nam'd, 
 Which nothing fhort of bedlam could have fram'd ; 
 Now Shakefpeare's facred page is fritter'd down 
 To pleafe that motley mafs we call the town ; 
 While fing-fong operas our ears have tir'd, 
 And Foote, and all his farces, are admir'd* 
 
 The candid court met Lonval at his word, 
 Inquir'd what matchlefs dame he thus ador'd, 
 And proffer'd a refpite of twenty days, 
 For time to prove the juftice of his praife. 
 And fhould his miflrefs, by the fenate feen, 
 Eclipfe, in their account, the Cambrian queen, 
 They frankly would difmifs the whole affair, 
 If otherwife, for death, he muft prepare ; 
 Mean time confinement was the culprit's doom, 
 Jn the lone anguifh of a dungeon's gloom. 
 
 The term elaps'd, no rival dame appear'd, 
 And every feeling heart for Lonval fear'd; 
 A dark fufpicion fill'd the public breaft, 
 Geneura's motives were not deem'd the beft. 
 Though ftill a punk of far inferior rate 
 To fifty quaens of very modern date ; 
 Twas thought fhe often held her huiband cheap* 
 And vcntur'd, by the bye, the lover's leap.
 
 THE FAIEY QUEEN. igi 
 
 The chieftains were conven'd, and Lonval brought 
 Before them, but in vain an anfwer fought ; 
 The court protefted he was much to blame, 
 Who ftill refus'd to tell the lady's name. 
 Their verdid, now, was ready to be paft, 
 And this unlucky day had been his laft, 
 When lo ! a blaze of lightening burfl around, 
 And fubterranean thunder rockM the ground; 
 While fuddenly, on their aftonifh'd fight, 
 AdvancM a beauty more than mortal bright. 
 Her form, her mein, unrivalPd all atteil; 
 Tumultuous rapture throbs in every bread. 
 41 I come, my lords, an injur'd knight to aid," 
 (With modeft dignity the fairy faid) 
 44 Though, fince he raftily vaunted of my love, 
 44 'Twas needful his fidelity to prove. 
 44 A wanton woman is below my wrath, 
 44 But ere her generous vidlim fufFers death, 
 44 Since nothing elfe can fave my husband's life, 
 44 Till once you judge the perfon of his wife, 
 u Say might my fond embrace an hour employ, 
 44 Or foothe a warrior's bofom into joy f 
 
 She fpoke : The council in one voice declared 
 No earth-born daughter could be here compar'd. 
 Arthur himfelf acknowledged that the knight, 
 By fuch a choice, was nobly in the right. 
 Beyond the ftairs which to the caftle lead, 
 The ftranger queen had left her fnow-white fleed. 
 She mounted : Lonval, fmiling, vaults behind, 
 And off they fly, more rapid than the wind, 
 For thofe far diftant, but delightful plains, 
 Where, on her natiTe throne, the fairy monarch reigns.
 
 C 9* ) i 
 
 STRUT: 
 
 A CHARACTER. 
 
 WHEKI STRTTT begins to read a book 
 Which all the world has recommended. 
 
 His fole intention is to look 
 For fome pretence to turn offended. 
 
 And, mould the author be a friend 
 Whom we refpedl and patronize, 
 
 To downright fcolding he'Jl defcend 
 While Bedlam fparkles in his ey.es. 
 
 Converting but to kindle ftrife, 
 Rewarding homage with difdaio, 
 
 3"be total pleafure of bis life 
 Arifesfrom inflicting pain 
 
 And did the law yovir father hang, 
 He kindly would inquire the caufe, 
 
 On ropes eternally harangue, 
 
 And pay your patience loud applaufe. 
 
 An ufeful leffon to beflow, 
 
 Provokes his fordid than kiefs pride ; 
 for STRUT himfelf pretends to know 
 
 More than all mankind know befide : 
 
 And though he very fully feels 
 
 The force and weight of what you fay, 
 
 Conviction fullenly conceals, 
 And fnaps and wrangles half a day : 
 
 And when he can no longer fly, 
 
 Like Pufs at bay, the chace he'll turn, 
 
 His previous arguments deny, 
 
 And your ftrange deafncfs gravely mourn.
 
 STRUT : A CHARACTER. IgJ 
 
 Confcious how little he has read, 
 
 The .fight he'll force you to begin ; 
 And, hearing all that you have faid, 
 
 Steals up materials, and fteps in. 
 
 Silence would wake his utmofl wrath 4 
 
 Yet mind this all important rule, 
 'Tis better far to fave one's breath, 
 
 Than quarrel with a peevim fool ; 
 
 Whofe heart fufpicion makes her prey, 
 
 Whofe tongue eternal fpite defiles, 
 Who liflens only to betray, 
 
 Nor ever but at mifchief fmiles : ' 
 
 A bankruptcy, a rival's death, * 
 
 A reputation to deilroy ; 
 And his own confequence to breathe 
 
 Completes the climax of his joy. 
 
 To hint the mildeil mortal's worth 
 
 Provokes a florm of contradiction; 
 He drags your flighteft follies forth, 
 
 And proves your virtues all a fiftion : 
 
 But with fome " jolly, furly groom," 
 
 The viper's bite muft be dclay'd ; 
 He cringes till you quit the room, 
 
 And then the black arrears are paid. 
 
 His moral merit you fhall hear : 
 
 He hates a wench, drinks only water; 
 And, but from intercft, or fromyear, 
 
 Sincerely fcorns to flinch or flatter. 
 
 It isufeful to knowwhat (hocking characters may poffiblj es> 
 ift in fociety. Some years ago, a Gentleman was thrown from 
 his horfe, and report faid that he was killed. " Ha ! Is it fo ? I* 
 " it fo ?" exclaimed * " ; " that muft be of vaft fervice to fome- 
 " body; but i have no connexion witb any of bit clients."
 
 ( 194 ) 
 
 ON THE NOVELS OF DR. SMOLLET. 
 
 FOR the talent of drawing a natural and original charac- 
 ter, Dr. Smollet, of all Englifh writers, approaches near- 
 eft to a refemblance of our inimitable Shakefpeare. What 
 can be more chafte, amufing, or interefting, than Ran- 
 dom, Trunnion, Hatchway, Lifmahago, Pallet, the Pin- 
 darick Phyfician, Tom Clarke, Farmer Prickle, Strap, 
 Clinker, Pipes, the Duke of Newcaflle, and Timothy 
 Crabtree? The laft is indeed a clofe imitation of Sancho 
 Panca, as Morgan is partly borrowed from one of Shake- 
 fpeare's Welshmen ; but Hill both are the imitations of a 
 great mafter, not the tame copies of a common artift. 
 Matthew Bramble is a moft eflimable portrait of a coun- 
 try gentleman ; and admirably contrafted with his fitter 
 Tabby. This novel was written when its author was de- 
 clining both in health and fortune; yet he difplaysall the 
 fpirit and vivacity of Roderick Random ; and in fome paf- 
 fages, fuch as that refpe&ing the Smith's widow, is ir- 
 refiflibly pathetic. All which paffes on board the Thun- 
 der, is a feries of almoft unexampled excellence. The 
 night fcene in bedlam, in Sir Launcelot Greaves, is drawn 
 with uncommon force of judgment and of fancy. In the 
 fame publication, the ruin of Captain Clewlin and his fa- 
 mily, enforces, with aftoniming eloquence, the madnefs 
 and infamy of paternal tyranny, and the delicious rap- 
 tures of paternal tenderftefs. In the chara&er of honefl 
 Bowling, Smollet, if any where, excells himfelf : The 
 Captain's fpeech to his crew, when about to engage a 
 French man of war, is fuch a mafterpiece, that, in read- 
 ing it, we feel a fort of involuntary impulfe for a broad- 
 fide. The phlegm of an old lawyer is happily illuftrated 
 in the conduct of Random's grandfather, and forms the 
 mofl flriking contraft imaginable to the ferocious bene- 
 volence of the naval veteran. The difappointment of the 
 maiden aunts, on opening the old man's will, is infinite- 
 ly natural and amufing. The entertainment in the man-
 
 POLITICAL QTTEKIES. 10,5 
 
 ner of the ancients, affords a ftrange fpecimen of the 
 learning and abilities of its author. The oration of Sir 
 Launcelot to an ele&ion mob, is in the true fpirit of Cer- 
 vantes. The knight elucidates, with exquifite fenfe, hu- 
 mour, and propriety, the miserable farce of reprefenta- 
 tion in parliament ; and the infolence of a rabble, inca- 
 pable and unworthy of a better government, is in harmo- 
 ny with the convic~lion of every reader. With fo much 
 merit, Dr. Smollet had likewife imperfections. His oaths 
 and execrations are indecent,' and unneceflary 5 and the 
 adventures of Lady Vane ought to be expunged from the 
 pages of a claffical author. In this age, many gentlemen 
 publifli volumes of criticifm, and attempt to illuftrate the 
 human mind upon metaphysical principles. In their works, 
 it is ufual to cite paffages from poets, -*nd other writers 
 in the walk of invention; yet it is fingular that they have 
 feldom or never quoted Smollet, whofe talents refledl ho- 
 nour on his country, and who, next to Buchanan, is by far 
 the greateft literary genius of whom North Britain has to 
 boaft. The admiration of the public beftows an ample 
 atonement for the filence of our profeiTed critics. His vo. 
 lu mesare in every hand, and his praifes one very tongue. 
 
 POLITICAL QUERIES. 
 
 THE Englim language has been exhaufted in panegyric 
 upon the virtues and abilities of the prefent minifler. We 
 have likewife faid a great deal more than was neceflary 
 about the execrable coalition. For my own part, I muft 
 confider it as a very mortifying circumAance that an en- 
 lightened nation mould depend upon the talents of any 
 {ingle individual for the conduct of its affairs. There 
 muft certainly be a miferable defect fomeivbere, in the 
 principles of fuch a government. Indeed, our legiflators 
 have committed a variety of egregious blunders, and al- 
 moft every day enlarges the lift. The tax upon pedlars 
 was the only tax, I fuppofe, fince the beginning of the
 
 tg6 POLITICAL QTERIES. 
 
 world, which was avowedly intended to extirpate the ob- 
 ject of taxation. The neceflary confequence was, that 
 ki South Britain, at leaft, a very ufeful and induflrious 
 clafs of men were reduced to beggary. Had we been in- 
 formed that Nadir Sbaw, or any other Oriental defpot, 
 had invented a tax for the purpofe of exterminating its 
 object, we fhould naturally have exclaimed, that this was 
 tie extremity of opprejfflon / In the prefent cafe, however, 
 we were fatisfied with a few fine fpeeches about the im- 
 maculate morality of the ininifler, and the profligacy of 
 an abandoned coalition; for with this laft topic the great- 
 er part of miniflerial fpeeches, for fome years paft, have 
 ended, with whatever fubject they fet out. The mop-tax 
 fupplies another of many good reafons why the prefent 
 minifler cannot hope to be remembered with regret by 
 posterity. My only reafon for preferring him to his poli- 
 tical antagonifl is, the external decency of his deport- 
 ment. We have never feen him at the head of an elec- 
 tion mob, fpreading terror and confufion through the 
 ftreets of a great city ; we fhatt never be obliged to pay 
 his arrears for dice, for race horfes, or for concubines. 
 His enemies have very foolifhly attempted to turn into 
 ridicule the bed part of his character. But there is a pe- 
 culiar degree of duty of this fort incumbent on the go- 
 vernors of a great nation, flnce their bad example may 
 have the moft ruinous confequences. 
 
 The following queries are humbly fubmitted to the at~ 
 tention of the public. 
 
 >uery ift. Whether it be true, that not many years a- 
 go, the greateft part of the manufacturers of flarch in 
 Scotland were reduced to bankruptcy? and whether it be 
 alfo true, that all this ruin was owing to an abfurd and 
 opprcffive mode of enforcing ths excife laws, adopted a- 
 bout that tim , and that the few who efcaped were faved 
 from deftrudtion merely by a timely relaxation in the 
 mode of .executing thefe laws ? And whether all this did 
 cot happen without any alteration of the law itfelf ? 
 
 Query zd. Whether it be true that there is twenty time*
 
 POLITICAL QtJERIES. M)7 
 
 lefs foap manufactured in this country than there was five 
 years ago ; and whether many of the manufacturers have 
 not retired with their capitals into England to avoid ap- 
 proaching bankruptcy, and carry on their manufactures 
 there, where the excife laws are executed with far lefs 
 -rigour ? 
 
 uery 3 d. Whether the tax on agents before the Court 
 of Seflion, and upon folicitors in the inferior courts of 
 law, isnotgrofsly iniquitous? A licence coils five pounds 
 a year to an agent, who does not perhaps clear twenty 
 pounds by his practice ; while an agent who clears athou- 
 fand pays only the fame fum. 
 
 SHiery 4tb. Whether it is not a notorious fadl that the 
 excife laws are making a rapid progrefs in the final de- 
 ilru&ion of Scottifti breweries, and feveral other manufac- 
 tures? Whether the number of brewers in the city of Edin- 
 burgh is not diminifhed by one half within the lail fix 
 years ? Whether fix or eight breweries, in the Canongate 
 of Edinburgh, are not at prefent lying wafte, which were 
 lately poflefled by reputable tradefmen,who have been dri- 
 ven from their profefiion by the weight of the excife fcep- 
 tre. Is there not one tenement of this fort, for which the pro- 
 prietor ten years ago refufed thirteen hundred pounds, and 
 whichat prefentflands unoccupied, though the landlordhas 
 offered to fell the whole premifes for four hundred pounds? 
 
 Query $tb. When fait is employed for curing herring, 
 we are told that the duty is to be remitted : Whether the 
 numerous and expenfive formalities, pradYifed by officers 
 of excife, only in this part of Britain, do not render this in- 
 dulgence totally ufelefs ? Whether this circumflance has 
 not hitherto prevented the fuccefs of every attempt to 
 promote the fisheries on this coafl ? and whether if not 
 removed, it will not fruftrate the humane views of the 
 patriotic fociety which at prefent exifls for the promoting 
 of fifheries? In fhort, there appears to be no end of 
 fuch queries ; but I hope I fliall live long enough to fee 
 an end to a part of the encomiums on the father of the 
 horfe-tax, and the creator of revenue, farmers in Britain,
 
 I$ ON FEMALE fBAILTT. 
 
 In this lift of queries there is a wide variety of omiffions r 
 for we have hardly a manufacture in this country which 
 has not, at one time or other, been reduced to the brink 
 of ruin within thefe few years, by the fevere oppreflion 
 of revenue laws. It is true that both parts of the united 
 kingdom are making rapid advances in wealth and popu- 
 lation ; but this is not in confequence of good, but in fpite 
 of bad government. We are no more to thank Mr. Pitt 
 for the general improvement of the country than we are 
 to blame him for the prefent cold fummer weather. On 
 fbme occafions he may have afted in thebefl manner that 
 circumftances vrould permit, but is he the only perfon ca- 
 pable of ading fo ? My cenfure is levelled, not at the 
 man, but at the wretched fpirit of faftion which per- 
 vades this ifland. One half fuppofe Mr. Pitt the only 
 perfon capable of preserving us from ruin ; the other half, 
 equally judicious, imagine that the faviour of three king- 
 doms is only to be found in a ftable, a gaming-houfe, or 
 a bagnio. Yet in fyite of many faults, Mr. Fox has of- 
 ten deferved the gratitude of his country. 
 EDINBURGH, Jvnt ai. 1791. 
 
 ON FEMALE FRAILTY. 
 
 FROM PLAUTUS. 
 
 FOND boys may fancy, if they pleafe, 
 That marriage is a happy ftatfe ; 
 
 And, could the fex avert difeafe, 
 Might bear exiflence with a mate. 
 
 Her wonted want of thrift and fenfe 
 Is yet the leaft of Madam's failings j 
 
 For what vexation, toil, expence, 
 Succeed to her incefTant ailings. 
 
 Difcretion, elegance, or wealth, 
 My humble wifhes dare not feck, 
 
 Would but my fpoufe enfure her health 
 Six hours, at leaft, in every week*
 
 C 199 ] 
 
 ON HARD DRINKTIRX 
 
 IF you who hear this deathlefs ode, 
 
 Where Pindar glows in every line, 
 At midnight never range abroad y 
 To foak the effence of the vine ; 
 No goat (hall ever rack your toes, 
 Nor lamp pod bounce againft your nofe. 
 
 Nor mall you to the bagnio roam, 
 
 Nor on the roundhoufe run afliore, 
 Nor plunging through the kennel home 
 Kick your dependents to the door ; 
 Nor {hall your brains at breakfaft ache, 
 Nor mall your nerves at thirty {hake. 
 
 Had Noah when his box was landed, 
 
 Inflead of bidding bumpers flow, 
 Behav'd as common fenfe demanded 
 
 And taught his fons to weave and plow j. 
 Their father had not turn'd their jeft, 
 friit doz'd with decency at leaft. 
 
 Had this old tar been truly wife, 
 
 And burn'd his poifonous plantation, 
 One root of almoft every vice 
 Which fills the world with devaftatlon, 
 Perhaps he might have liv'd to fee, 
 Ham had a founder head than he. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 THERE liv'd, in former days, an honeft man, 
 Who did not figure on our modifli plan ; 
 His coat was homely, but his credit found, 
 He paid with twenty {hillings in the pound.
 
 500 HORACE, LIB. I. OPE XXVII. 
 
 He managed what had been his father's farm, 
 
 No currifh landlord could his peace alarm ; 
 
 An hearty welcome made the ftranger glad, 
 
 For Hunger never wanted what he had. 
 
 He did not, like the wits of later days, 
 
 Confume his time on magazines and plays, 
 
 But fancy'd every minute worth his care, 
 
 Methufalem, he faid, had few to fpare. 
 
 And if, at eve, he felt a wifh to read, 
 
 Ifaiah, Job, and Mofes, lin'd his head; 
 
 Strong common fenfe from Solomon he drew, 
 
 And at the ninetieth reading found him. new. 
 
 When Jofeph and his worthy kin were met, 
 
 His foul too, foften'd, and his cheeks were wet j 
 
 He felt a kind of pleafure in his grief, 
 
 While the tears gufhing gave his heart relief. 
 
 Ruth's tender tale was often on his tongue, 
 
 And pleas'd in age, as it had pleas'd him young. 
 
 On myftic points he did not much inquire, 
 
 Nor pertly dar'd defy eternal fire. 
 
 Truths out of kenn the goodman let alone, 
 
 Nor thought it ever meantthatall things mould be known. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXVII. 
 
 WHT mould my friends when they're drunk, 
 
 Make fuch a terrible noife ! 
 Will gentlemen brawl like a punk 
 
 Pelted with dirt by the boys. 
 
 When valets convene in a cellar, 
 
 Dividing their vails over gin ; 
 If the landlady's pert, they may tell her, 
 
 The liquor is dear of a pin. 
 
 They may batter her bottom pell mell. 
 Kick up a faudsdous pother]
 
 FAHALLEL BETWEEN RICHES AND POVERTY. 2Or 
 
 And finifli the farce very well, 
 
 With pounding the bones of each other. 
 
 When members have met in the boufe, 
 
 Our national honour to fave, 
 They're heartily welcome to choufe, 
 
 Each patriot in turn as a knave. 
 
 But when men of fafhion agree, 
 
 To pafs in good humour a night ; 
 The rabble would blufli, did they fee 
 
 Their betters beginning to fight. 
 
 A PARALLEL BETWEEN RICHES AND 
 POVERTY. 
 
 FROM THE GREEK OF RHIANUS. 
 
 Aj ancient bard had rcafon to complain, 
 That all mankind are ignorant and vain ; 
 Nor in profperity their pride reprefs, , 
 Nor with calm dignity fupport diftrefs ; 
 To thofe below them with contempt behave, 
 To thofe above them aft the downright flave* 
 
 Thus, he who is in want of daily food, 
 Feels no bold courage animate his blood ;. 
 Nature to him no beauties can difplay, 
 He curfes fate and fhuns the light of day. 
 The rich, in public, tell aloud their mind, 
 The poor, in fervile filence, flink behind. 
 " Chill Penury" each generous thought controuls^ 
 And freezes all the ardour of their fouls. 
 Nor mould we rail at the corrupted times, 
 'Tis Poverty which fills the world with crimes ^ 
 For very few begin to rob or fteal, 
 Till once they've fear'd Uie want of many a meaL,
 
 If halters only for the rich were made, 
 Ketch foon might ftarve, or feek a better trade ; 
 His office merely keeps poor rogues in awe, 
 For great men's crimes are fanftified by law. 
 To what I fay, exceptions will be found ; 
 But 'tis a common cafe the world around. 
 
 The great adopt a furer, fafer courfe, 
 They neither break a fliop nor fteal a horfe j 
 They feldom pick a purfe, or forge a note, 
 Or point a piftol at a coachman's throat. 
 Yet all to vice are equally inclin'd, 
 Their mifdemeanours vary but in kind; 
 The poor dare only cheat, vhe rich opprefs, 
 The firft muft hide, the laft avow fuccefs j 
 The blufliing footpad plunders in the night, 
 The noble felon dares the noon-day light. 
 And fure of mortals, the moft foolifh thing, 
 Is, for the moft part, what we call a king ; 
 Vile fycophants, devoted to his will, 
 Define his right to conquer and to kill ; 
 And fome poltroon, who, bred among the poor, 
 Had fcarce dar'd thruft a vixen from his door - r 
 Commits whole empires to the fword and flame, 
 Dreaming deftruction dignifies a name. 
 But inftant vengeance treads upon his heel, 
 And all his pride inflicted makes him feel. 
 Survey that clafs with an impartial eye, 
 How few have died as wife men wifli to die ; 
 Though fools may deem the day of vengeance paft, 
 Guilt in repentance, always ends at laft. 
 
 NOTHING NEW. 
 
 UNHAPPY is the bard who fighs 
 For folid friendship with the great, 
 
 Since every effort which he tries 
 Will prove his plan a bitter cheat,.
 
 REMARKS 0^ EMINENT HISTORIANS. 20J 
 
 By a long furfeit of fucccfs, 
 
 The heart grows hard, the fancy light, 
 And all approaches of diftrefs, 
 
 Derange the vifion of delight. 
 
 In vain your eloquence would plead, 
 
 No words the fordid foul can alter ; 
 'Tis better far to beg your bread, 
 
 Or make your exit in a halter. 
 
 CRITICAL REMARKS ON SOME OF THE MOST 
 EMINENT HISTORIANS OF ENGLAND. 
 
 THOUGH we are now in the clofe of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury, the hiftory of this ifland has never been fludied with 
 proper attention. That portion of it, in particular, which 
 precedes the Reformation, feems, at prefent, buried in 
 profound negledU For this misfortune, fufficient reafons 
 may be afligned ; an hundred and fifty years were wafted 
 in theological frenzy, or in defeating the tyranny of the 
 houfe of Stuart; and a modern compiler of general hif- 
 tory is ftrongly tempted to rufh with precipitation over 
 the remoter periods, and to referve his abilities and re- 
 fearch for thofe later fcenes, in which a reader of the pre- 
 fent day is more heartily interefted. On fome of thefc 
 modern authors, a few candid obferrations may repay a 
 perufal. 
 
 The name of RAPIN is now almoft forgotten ; and Mr. 
 Hume, in the end of his Englifli Hiftory, has branded him 
 as an author " the moft defpicable both in ftyle and mat- 
 ter." The cenfure is invidious, and unjuft : His work 
 contains an immenfe multitude of interefling circumftan- 
 ces, wholly omitted by the Scottifti author. From his 
 perfonal fituation, a claffical compofition was not to be 
 expected. He wrote a more complete General Hiftory of 
 England, than had ever appeared in this country ; and 
 whatever be his faults, it would be ungenerous to deny 
 his uncommon merit.
 
 804 KEMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS, 
 
 SALMON made an eflay'on the fame fubjed. Though 
 ihort^ it contains much information, which is not to bt 
 found in more voluminous hiftorians of England. His 
 own refle&ions are brief, lively, and fenfible. It is u- 
 fual to reprefent Richard III. as deformed and decrepid; 
 yet thefe very authors inform us, that he unhorfed and kil- 
 led with his own hand the ftandard-bearer of Henry VII. 
 who was reputed to be the ftrongeft knight in the rebel 
 army. The inconfiftency of thefe two ftories is pointed 
 out by Salmon. He has left behind him no work of very 
 fuperior value, yet he muft have been an author of fupe- 
 rior abilities ; for, without becoming tirefome, he has 
 written more than mofl of us have read. 
 
 The fame remarks apply with equal juftice to Dr. SMOL- 
 LET. The immenfe bulk of his writings proves that he 
 compofed with greater facility than ordinary men are able 
 to converfe. By his own account, in the expedition oi 
 Humphry Clinker, it appears that he very often wrote 
 merely for wages ; and on fuch occafions, nothing above 
 mediocrity can with reafon be demanded. The continu- 
 ation of his Englifh Hiftory, r from 1748 to 1764, is a mere 
 catchpenny chaos, without even a fpark of merit. There 
 is great reafon to believe that he, or rather his journey- 
 men, copied at random from fomebody elfe, mofl of the 
 quotations and references arranged with fo much parade 
 on the margin of his text. 
 
 GUTHRIE has left behind him more than one ponder, 
 ous fabric on Britifh hiftory. He had fenfe, learning, 
 candour, and induflry. He had an original manner, and 
 wifhed to think for himfelf : But to elegance, he was an 
 entire flranger, and to that happy choice of circumflances 
 which forms an inftructive hiftorian ; he was often fa- 
 miliar without perfpicuity, and prolix without complete- 
 nefs. No writer is at prefent lefs popular. A geogra- 
 phical grammar has been printed under his name ; but 
 it is generally underflood, that he had no mare in its com- 
 pofition. 
 In point of flyle, Mr. HUME may be fiudied as a per-
 
 KCMAtiKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. 1J 
 
 foil "model. Pure, nervous, eloquent, he is fimple with- 
 out wtaknefs, and fublime without effort. In the art of 
 telling an humorous ftory, he can never be excelled ; and 
 when he chofe to exert himfelf, he was even a confider- 
 able mafler of the pathetic : But it was his misfortune to 
 defpifc accuracy of refearch, and fidelity of citation. He 
 was a bitter Tory ; and while jjete&ion flawed in his face, 
 lie commonly adhered to whatever he had once written. 
 "His account of the houfe of Stuart is not the ftatement of 
 aji hiftorian, but the memorial of a pleader in a Court of 
 Juftice. He fometimes afferts a pofitive untruth, contra- 
 dicted by the very author whom he pretends himfelf to be 
 quoting ; but more commonly gains his purpofe, by fup- 
 prefling the whole evidence on the oppofite fide of the 
 queftion. His conduct in the controverfy with Mr. Tyt- 
 Icr, can hardly be defended: And his injurious treatment 
 of Queen Mary of Scotland rs not more difgufting than 
 Ivis farcical panegyrics on the virtues of her pofterity. 
 When we examine Mrs. Macaulay's performance on the 
 fame period, we meet with a profufion of inter-efling in- 
 telligence, of which the mere reader of Hume has not the 
 njoft diflant conception. The Scottifh hiftorian gives but 
 fhort and partial excerpts from the writers of the times. 
 His female antagonift, on the other hand, gives large ex- 
 tracts from the original writers ; and though to a fuper- 
 ficial eye, her work afliimes an air lefs pleating and 
 claffical, what is loft in elegance is fully repaid in authen- 
 ticity. He is a Eealous advocate for the ceremonies of 
 the Church of England. He cenfures thofe brave and 
 able men who refifted and defeated her -ufurpations ; and 
 to whom we are, at this day, indebted for our liberties. 
 He attempts to prove, that Epifcopacy is preferable to 
 Prefbyterianifm, and that Laud may be vindicated for 
 pcrfecuting the diiTenters. Had Mr. Hume been ferious 
 in this opinion, he might have deferved an anfwer. But 
 on turning over to his Effays, we are furprifed by the 
 moft ftupendous and unblufbing contradiction. One 
 chief end of his metaphyftcal writings is to ejctingwft 
 
 S
 
 2O6 REMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. 
 
 every fentiinent of religion. The fame Court, therefore, 
 which fent Baflwick and Prynne to the pillory, would, 
 vith far lefs injuftice, have fent our hiftorian himfelf to 
 a more, decided Jltuation. What are we to think of a 
 profefied infidel defending the barbarous infolencc of the 
 prieflhood ? f 
 
 Mr. Hume has exprefled much indignation at that me- 
 morable acl of juflice, the execution of Charles t. His 
 two elder fqns ought tojiave fhared the fame fate. Their 
 annals are diftinguifhed b^ endlefs ufurpations, plots, re- 
 bellions, and maflacres ; by -two foreign wars, and a re- 
 volution. We cannot but obferve with the honeft Dutch- 
 man, that their predcceffor u was quite another man." 
 Had Cromwell furvived but for ten years longer, we Ihould 
 have heard no more about the poflerity of " The HoJy 
 Martyr." 
 
 James I. butchered Sir Walter Raleigh, without the 
 form of a trial. Mr. Hume tells us that, this meafure 
 lt was eflcemed an inftance of the utmoft cruelty and in- 
 juflice ;" and his vindication of James is one of the mofl 
 elaborate paffages in his whole work. The bed of his ar- 
 guments appears to be, u that no jury would have found 
 Raleigh guilty 1" 
 
 At the fentence of Lord Bacon, Mr. Hume adds, that 
 James " conferred on him a large pen {ion of eighteen 
 hundred pounds a-year, and employed every expedient 
 to alleviate the weight of his age and misfortunes." This 
 penfion would have been equivalent to fix or eight thou- 
 fand pounds Sterling at the prefent day: And as hisMa- 
 jefly had nothing of his own, it mufl have been transfer- 
 red from the pockets of his fubjects. The tran faction at 
 befl could have but refembled an apprentice interfering 
 with his mailer's till; a ccunparifoii which applies to mofl 
 other examples of royal munificence. But the fact is, that 
 Bacon, from the time of his fentence, lived as he died, 
 in ben ar y. O" tl " 3 point, the reader may confult Mrs. 
 Macaulay and her authorities. 
 
 Mr. Hume has canted much about the death of Straf-
 
 REMARKS ON EMINENT HISTORIANS. 207 
 
 ford, and claims the merit of having med fome " gene- 
 rous tears" on that fubjedt. All that he fays, put toge- 
 ther, is not worth a fingle expreifion of honeft Pym. 
 When Strafford, then a leader of Oppofition, for the fake 
 of a place at Court, deferted the public caufe ; u you 
 have left us," faid Pym, " but we (hall not leave YOU while 
 your head is on your ihoulders," and lie kept his word. 
 
 No part of our hiftorian's performance has been more 
 controverted, than that relative to Queen Mary. Per- 
 haps the next age may confider her conduct in a light e- 
 qually- different from her prefent accufers and her apolo- 
 gifts. I would meet the former on their own ground, and 
 franldy reply, that the brutal infolence of Darnly to his 
 wise, his fovereign, his benefactrefs, deferved ten -deaths ; 
 ami that Mary,, if connected with the conspirators, was 
 at worfl,. but an executioner of juftice. If fhe wanted to 
 dcpoi'e and deftroy Elizabeth, flill the ruin of her coun- 
 try, the maiTacre of her friends, the lofs of her kingdom, 
 hur liberty, and her child, juftiiied her revenge. Let us, 
 for example, fuppcrfc that Mr, Hume had been confined 
 in one of the dungeons of the Holy OiHce at Lifbon, 
 and that he had obtained a chance of efcaping. yery<, 
 Would he have refilled freedom, for fear of injuring the 
 inquiQtor who arrefted him ? Surely he could not have 
 fcrupled at knocking out the brains of the whole frater- 
 nity ? Many modern hiflorians, and among others, Mr. 
 Hume, have fallen into the practice of quaint wiredrawn 
 portraits. The virtues and-literary genius of James I. 
 for intlance^ are expanded by our author into a quarto 
 page, which can be regarded but as wafte paper. As a- 
 man of tafte, Mr. Hume is often extremely fingular. He 
 affirms that Shakefpeare " was totally ignorant of all the- 
 atrical art and conduct ; that it is in vain we look either 
 for continued purity, or fiuiplicity of diclion ; and that 
 he cannot for any time uphold a reafonable propriety of 
 thought." There is much more to the fame purpofe. 
 - Mr. Hume, in common with moft of our hiftorions, has 
 omitted to give an account of his materials. A judicious 
 
 Sij
 
 aol JIEJCARKS QN EMINENT HISTORIANS. 
 
 Deader, when he fees them perpetually referred to, will 
 afk who is Froiffart, and who is Rhymer? Till the ac- 
 ceffion of the houfe of Tudor, lua narrative is abrupt. 
 For example, the reign of Edward III. extended to almoft 
 half a century, and is one of the raofl bufy and memor- 
 able in ancient or modern annals. It is comprefled by 
 Mr. Hume within an hundred o&avo pages, while the 
 reign of Elizabeth alone fills one of his largefl volumes. 
 His warmefl admirers muft allow, that he betrays a wide 1 
 disproportion of parts in the execution of his plan : But 
 m truth, it was by far too extenfrve to be completed by 
 any Cngle pen. It was neceflary to write a book of a 
 faleable fize. As an epitome of Englifh Hiflory, it is too- 
 large ; but as a complete hiflory, it is by far too fhort. 
 "We often fee whole folios- printed on the antiquities of a 
 fingle town, or a fingle country pari-fh. Whj then mould 
 we think it tirefome to read twenty or thirty volumes on 
 the national hiftory of our anceflors ? Mr. Hume, like 
 many men of eminence, has performed too little, by at- 
 tempting to perform too much ; yet his writings afford 
 univerfal and Jafling pleafure. The diiiindnefs of his 
 planner, and the acutenefs or plauflbility of his general 
 cbfervations, caft a veil over the errors and deficiencies 
 cf his narrative. 
 
 On the ancient hiflory of England, few writers have 
 thrown more light than the famous FROISSART. His chro- 
 nicle commences with the acceflion of Edward III. and 
 ends with the death of Richard II containing a period of 
 feventy-three years. Like almoft every other writer, he. 
 fcas numerous and obvious imperfections. But what Plu- 
 tarch has remarked of a paflage in Xenophon, may with 
 equal juflice be applied to this author. FroiiTart does not 
 defcribe a march, a battle, a fiege, or a purfait, but he 
 places them before our eyes. By the firft ftroke of his 
 iirtlefs, yet magic pen, we are tranfported into the tu- 
 rault of adion, and forward to forget that \ve continue in 
 the clofet. He has not indeed attempted the higher walks: 
 fci' eloquence. He is neitlier a. Thucydidc; nor a SallufV
 
 REMARKS ON EMIXEXT HISTORIANS. 2Og 
 
 nor docs he difplay the judgment and accuracy of PoJy- 
 bius ; but he deferves to be termed the Xenophon of his 
 age. Replete with materials, it is true that he has in- 
 ferted a multiplicity of particulars, which are no longer 
 interefting at the distance of four centuries. But vvhere- 
 ever his fubje6l rifes equal to his abilities, full, without, 
 redundancy, intelligent and inftruftive, without oftenta- 
 tion, he charms us by that pathetic ftmplicity of manner,, 
 that minute but happy felection of circumflances, which, 
 animates the page of the admired Athenian. Nor is it 
 the leaf! honourable part of his praife, that he appears to 
 have been entirely diverted of national and of perfonal 
 prejudice, and that without any veftige of parade or af- 
 fectation, he frequently difcovers the traces of a feeling 
 heart. The candid reader will forgive this tribute of refpedl. 
 While hourly opprefled with a frefh multitude of infipid 
 compilations from compilations, we are in the moft feri- 
 ous danger of forgetting the very exiAence of thofe inef- 
 timable writers from whom our whole fources of informa- 
 tion are originally derived. 'Of the many Ship-loads of 
 treatifes on Roman affairs, which Englifh, and ftill more, 
 French idleness has dragged into light, a numberlefs ma- 
 jority make not the mofl diftant approaches to claffical 
 merit ; and yet of the greater part of Greek and Roman 
 hiftorians, an entire and decent translation will be fought 
 for in vain in either language. After fuch mournful evi- 
 dence of our Stupidity, it is hopelefs to add, that an accu- 
 rate verfion of Froiflart would be an important acquisition- 
 to the literary world.- 
 
 His memoirs exhibit a beautiful portion of feudal hif- 
 tory ; and a liberal mind will obferve with peculiar plea- 
 fure, that they are not deformed by the madnefs of theo- 
 logical rancour. They do not exhibit the horrid farce of 
 nations exterminating each other for antiquated fyftems 
 of faith, in the wildeft degree abfurd, or abfolutely un- 
 intelligible. This venerable veteran was not to difguSl us 
 by the detail of controversies and of martyrdoms, whene 
 learning is frivolity, and fortitude at befl but the frenzy 
 
 iij
 
 2-IO HORACE, LIB. V. EPODE XV. 
 
 of ignorance ; nor were a cock-fight and a card-table, a 
 mafquerade and n horfe-race, to limit the amufements 
 and ambition of a brave and proud nobility. The Black 
 Prince never condefcended to become arbiter in the quar- 
 rels of a band of jockies, of fiddlers, or of ftage dancers.* 
 Neither his father nor his fellow-foldiers would have ad- 
 mired his magnanimity. Glowing with the moft exalted 
 ientiments of perfonal independence and heroic fame, it 
 was to vindicate the importance of his family, or the 
 beauty of his miflrefs, that the knight couched his lance, 
 and ruflied into the field. The rough, but manly fea- 
 tures of the foul, difplayed an interefling dignity : The 
 paffions blazed into their wildeft effort ; and though rea- 
 fon and humanity cannot always approve, the tear of 
 fenfibility attefts that we admire. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. V. EPODE XV. 
 
 TWAS night ; the filent moon fhone clear 
 
 Amid the ftarry fkies, 
 When you, my love, prefum'dto fvvear 
 
 By Jove whom you defpife. 
 
 * Beccaria tells us, that it was lately the cuftom for Italian 
 fearbers to write upon the fign above their fhop doors, " Boy 
 gelded here in the neateft manner." On reading this, we ra(h- 
 ly infer, that fuch artifts muft be the very dregs of mankind. 
 But, thofe who encourage the pradlice are certainly far more 
 ulpable. 
 
 We are juft now [January 1791,] informed by the daily pa- 
 pers, that there has been a numerous meeting of our nobility, at 
 London, with a Prince at their head, to confult about rebuilding 
 the Opera Houfe, and that an hundred thoufand pounds will 
 be wanted. It would be in vain to remind fuch people, of the 
 fuperior propriety of paying off their tradefmen, or of abating a 
 year's rent to a diftreffed tenant. A Roman fenate, aflembling 
 to deliberate about the cookery of Domitian's mullet, f formed 
 * lefs prominent objeft of ridicule, 
 f Sec Juvenal, Sat. IV,
 
 THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. , 
 
 And while my charming trait'refs fpoke, 
 
 Her arms enclosed me round, 
 As we have feen the folid oak 
 
 By twining ivy bound. 
 
 You promised, while the wolf mould tear 
 
 The tender lambs away ; 
 While failors, through the main mould fleer, 
 
 My raptures to repay. 
 
 But now, my faithlefs fair, believe, 
 
 Horace mall ad the man ; 
 Nor will he, for your coynefs grieve, 
 
 But ilrike a bolder plan. 
 
 Addrefs fome fair ingenuous girl, 
 
 From pride and falfehood free ; 
 And when your fancy takes a whirl 
 
 And drives you back to me : 
 
 For well I know your prefent fwain 
 Shall foon your coldnefs mourn ; 
 
 Then will I, heedlefs of your pain, 
 Be merry in my turn. 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. 
 
 WHEN nature, clapping up in hafle a head, 
 For want of brain, pours in a pound of lead ; 
 When learning cannot pierce the folid fcull, 
 And lady mother owns her darling dull, 
 Though creeping prudence his repute may favc, 
 'Tis two to one, the blockhead is a knave. 
 The paltry rotten thing he calls his heart, 
 Would fain fupply the want of fenfe with art; 
 And fuch a man has far the faired chance 
 In fortune's flippery turnpike to advance.
 
 2fZ THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. 
 
 The dunce who dbats on antiquated rules 
 
 Enfures applaufe from all the mob of fools ; 
 
 For every folemn afs helps on his brother, 
 
 Like mites- in cheefe, they crowd by one another. 
 
 If you, kind Sir, diflent from what I fay, 
 
 For one lax moment liften to my lay ; 
 
 Perhaps the mufe your wifdom will perfuade 
 
 That merit's wrong'd in almoft every trade^- 
 
 That excellence fupreme is oft a curfe ; 
 
 The conclave hardly could have coin'd a worfe. 
 
 When fate has gifted fome fuperior mind 
 With fenfe above the rabble of mankind, 
 If genius in the caufe of truth engage y 
 And ftrike at error fanilified by age 7 
 "With fearlefs eye wide nature's field explore,- 
 And fhew how little folly faw before, 
 And boldly charge the reigning fons of art, 
 With the rafh ardour of an honeft heart, 
 From every fide the trump of (lander's blown, 
 And the whole herd of pedants hunt him do\vn : 
 Into broad day each trivial error's brought, 
 While dulnefs fhudders at a daring thought : 
 On merit's head their inean revenue is hurl'd, 
 And what can one man do againfl a world? 
 
 The youth who labours to acquire a name, 
 Muft never feek a pure bye-path to fame ; 
 For inftance, fhould he traffick in the laws, 
 His pen muft vindicate the vileft caufe. 
 His tongue rr.ufl learn to wrangle and dlfpute, 
 Where every common rafta! would be mute; 
 That white is black, and black is white, he feeSj 
 Conviction always rifmg with his fees. 
 And as a bawd hires out her fiend-like train, 
 The bafer fophift proflitutes his brain ; 
 For every knave fays all which can be faid, 
 Nor blufhei to exult in fuch a trade ; 
 In mort, a counfellor can feldom rife, 
 Who truth or falfehood fcruples to dif^uifc.
 
 THE PROGnESS OF MERIT; 2JJ 
 
 K"or can the flip-flop faculty proclaim 
 That candour always points their path to fame. 
 When fome poor man who ftrives to force his way, 
 Through this fine world on fifteen pence a day, 
 Who fees ten healthy brats about his board, 
 For whom he's envied by fome heirlefs lord, 
 By heavy labour, and by fcanty food, 
 Has loofen'd all his nerves and thinn'd his blood, 
 When the fierce fever flops his fcanty pay, 
 And makes the crumbling tenement of clay ; 
 When all the father wrings his foul with feaf, 
 And the fond hufband foftens in a tear; 
 His ancient rules the fcxton's friend pbferves, 
 Hefweats, cups, bathes, bleeds, bllfters, purges, flarves.i 
 Secundum artem all his rage he vents, 
 And half his gallipots, are eas'd of their contents. 
 A ring of females babble out his praife, 
 And watch his eye, and lick up all he fays. 
 41 I cannot promife ; but pray hope the beft, 
 " With water-gruel try to cram his cheft. 
 " There's too much vigour in the patient's veins ;" 
 Then makes his head, but cannot (hake his brains. 
 And oft when men of more than common fkill, 
 Who fcorn alike the julep and the pill ; 
 Who but a tragic farce believe their trade, 
 Who dare not choofe to poifon and be paid ; 
 When fuch men fmiling, at difcordant rules, 
 Rejec~l the trafh they fwallow'd in the fchools ; 
 Kor with vile drugs the patient's paunch diftort, 
 But, fure that hunger muft require fupport, 
 On wholefome victuals roundly bid him dine, 
 And brace the fyftem with untainted wine; 
 The folemn homicides foon bear him down, 
 Ten thoufand falfehoods 11 the trembling town;. 
 And fages fent to fave the human race 
 Reap the reward of danger and difgrace. 
 The toils of Sydenham and Harvey read, 
 What clouds of darknefs burfl on either head
 
 214 THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. 
 
 The rifing fun of fcience was o'ercaft, 
 
 But truth, though flowly, may prevail at la ft. 
 
 An honeft parfon", let him do his beft, 
 Can hardly fail of cenfure from the reft. 
 Thus, when great Conyers* tore the veil afide, 
 Expos'd the bloody progrefs of their pride, 
 And markM what dj-eadful miichief they had done 
 That this poor world no blacker curfe had known ; 
 An hoft of maniacs rofe in Heaven's defence, 
 And all affaij'd the page of common fenfe. 
 What, though in argument the gown-man fail, 
 One certain road to conqueft is to rail : 
 The modern faint muft labour to afcend, 
 By twining texts to ferve his party's end; 
 Firft of the van, the holy champion flies, 
 And loudly tells each melhodift he lies ; 
 That Satan long has panted for his fcul, 
 And ne'er receiv'd a felon half fo fcul ; 
 That the Great Judge of- nature will rejoice 
 To hear the damn'd fend up a doleful noife; 
 That rigid juftice in the pit below 
 For want of faith infiifts eternal woe; 
 That fmoking brimftone fills each Quaker's nofe, 
 And guilt forbids Socinians to repofe.- 
 Had thrice five hundred of that bawling tribe. 
 Whom not even mitres into peace can bribe ; 
 Who fire mankind to fight for empty names,. 
 And preach up Jove, and fct the world in flames; 
 Had they defc.ended with the Rcyal George 
 We had been too well eas'd of fuch a fcourge. 
 
 Behold his fate who by plain merit tries 
 In phyfic or divinity to rife. 
 The faculty muft kill, the clergy damn, 
 Left the pert vulgar vow their trades a mam. 
 
 * The Reverend Dr. Conyers Middleton, the celebrated libra- 
 rian of Cambridge ; a man who deferves to be entitled the Shake-. 
 ipeare of theologians.
 
 THE PROGRESS OF MERIT. 21 $ 
 
 And many a worthy man we mny believe, 
 Whofe conference can't become an arrant fieve, 
 Who fcorns with polemicks to plague his head, 
 Nor pores on Gelfus, but in fcarch of bread, 
 "With honeft anguifh a&s the parfon's part, 
 And deals cathartics with a trembling heart. 
 
 Attorneys who adhere to common fenfe, 
 Who fcorn to fcribble in a rogue 1 ? defence, 
 Who are without a tribe the poor man's friend, 
 The public tafte are certain to offend : 
 A crowd of clients cannot hope to fee, 
 Nor twice a term to touch a handfome fee; 
 Though Chatham's genius from the tomb mould ftart, 
 To teach them all the magic of his art. 
 
 And though fame parafite may chance to rife, : 
 
 Like Boileau, by reciting fervile lies, 
 The pupils of Apollo, 'tis confeft, 
 Are almofl all but beggars at the beft. 
 Thus Jaffier's father faw his morfcl fail, 
 And Taffo ran diftrafted in a jail. 
 Dryden did fomething worfe than beg his bread, 
 And Spenfer figh'd to (lumber with the dead. 
 Butler, poor man ! fupported life with pain, 
 \Vhile Cha-tterton renounc'd ft with difdain. 
 The long fucceeding numbers who can name, 
 But all were fick of hunger and of fame. 
 Though men of tafle may liften to his lays, 
 And fools fatigue him with infipid praife } 
 No brother of the quill will condefcend 
 To be the poet's, ftrahger's, young man's friend. 
 Their cold hearts cannot give eflential aid, 
 They dare not afk him if his dinner's paid. 
 His little wants no critic fhall fupply, 
 His patrons pity, praife, and let him die.
 
 ( 216 ) 
 
 HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE IX, 
 
 Am> fo, you fancy all the rhymes 
 Your friend fo fondly would recite. 
 
 Will neither pleafe the prefent times, 
 Nor give poflerity delight ? 
 
 You fay that Shakefpeare has attained 
 The boldeft height of claflic praife, 
 
 And every bard {hall be difdain'd 
 Who cannot emulate his lays,: 
 
 But, though his fearlefs flam excells 
 The pompous elegance of Rowe, 
 
 When Shore her tender flory tells, 
 We feel our tears begin to flow ; 
 
 Though Zara force not awful wonder, 
 Like Profpero's enchanted ifle, 
 
 When Congreve's Ben begins to blunder, 
 Can gravity forbear to fmile ? 
 
 Though Butler offers no pretence, 
 
 Or to the tender, or fublime, 
 Yet, what a blaze of wit and fenfe 
 
 Burfts through the rubbifh of his rhyme I 
 
 And thus, though Swift could ne'er pretend 
 To paint the ravings of a Lear, 
 
 Yet when the Dean predicts his end, 
 The proudefl Cynic fteals a tear : 
 
 For every word Old Wagflaflffays 
 Defcribes him in a light fo true, 
 
 That, with one general burft of praife^ 
 We give the Drapier all his due : 
 
 -Nor mould you damn one all at once 
 For eking fome infipid pages,
 
 ON IDLENESS. 
 
 Though Fathom's father feems a dunce 
 Tom Bowling fhall endure for ages : 
 
 Though Dryden's farces be forgot, 
 How fweet Cecilia's numbers roll I 
 
 And Otway woeful nonfenfe wrote, 
 But ilill Monimia melts the foul. 
 
 ON IDLENESS : 
 
 FROM THE FIRST BOOK Of SPEXCER's FAIRY QUEEN'. 
 
 THE chariot of the queen f now mov'd along, 
 
 With fix poftilions, a flrange motely throng. 
 
 The mafler-groom was mounted on an afs, 
 
 And flow the beafl, and flow the rider was ; 
 
 His looks betray'd the dulnefs of his foul, 
 
 His clothes were fhabby and his fhirt was foul. 
 
 His {lockings folding down his ancles hung, 
 
 From a capacious mouth lolTd out his tongue. 
 
 The lols of buttons kept his bofom bare, 
 
 His eyes flood fixed in a vacant flare. 
 
 His only pouch, his cards and dice preferv'd, 
 
 His fpoufe had broke her heart, his children flarv'd. 
 
 Left by his father with a large eflate, 
 
 His folly foon had forc'd the frowns of Fate ; 
 
 If want of care can rank us with the bleft,^- 
 
 He of all mortals happinefs poffefl. 
 
 Refledlion never wrung his heart with pain, 
 
 Nor flirrM the flartding puddle of his brain j 
 
 From danger of a jail though never free, 
 
 Surety for all who fought his help was he. 
 
 His poorefl friend had lent him more or lefs, 
 
 For every day prcduc'd fome new diflrefs ; 
 
 f The Poet is defcribing the chariot of Pride ; and Idlenef*, 
 Gluttonj, Avarice, &c. are perfonified as her poftilions. 
 
 T
 
 Jl8 OX WRANGLING. 
 
 When tradefmen bawl'd, he hufli'd them with a fong, 
 
 Nor guefs'd if their demands were right or wrong. 
 
 And when his breeches got an hundredth rent, 
 
 He laugh'd to fee his taylor's patience fpent. 
 
 Nor health in early walks the floven fought, 
 
 Nor knew the nobler exercife of thought ; 
 
 By day he flroll'd the current lie to hear, 
 
 And loung'd, and gam'd, and read the gazetteer. 
 
 And when the lifllefs day began to clofe, 
 
 With brother vagrants, foak'd his ev'ning dofe. 
 
 He never went to fleep till twelve at night, 
 
 Nor twice in twenty years rofe with the riling light, 
 
 But always eat his breakfaft in his bed, 
 
 Unlefs compelled to fleal before he fed. 
 
 The want of toil his ufelefs nerves unbrac'd, 
 
 And purfe, and perfon, funk with equal hafle ; 
 
 The dream of reformation died in words, 
 
 That precious fruit which Idlenefs affords. 
 
 ON WRANGLING. 
 
 SOME filly fellows have a way 
 Of contradifling all you fay ; 
 And feem to fancy converfation 
 Invented but for difputation. 
 As pufs, with brifk erec~led ears, 
 A fcratch behind thewainfcot hears; 
 So thefe are always on the watch, 
 Your flightefl flip with triumph catch; 
 And mould you venture a defence, 
 Deplore your want of common fenfc. 
 
 uch vipers, (for they cannot claim 
 A kinder, or a better name,) 
 Betray, in fpite of all their art, 
 A mallow head, a worthlefs heart. 
 
 Six ferious words are juft enough, 
 To anfwer all their faucy ftufif.
 
 A DREAM. 2I 
 
 *' That's your opinion, 'tis not mine," 
 And thus the combat yeu decline. 
 To them, and all mankind, be civil, 
 But fly them as you'd fly the devil. 
 
 If e'er you dare to take a wife, 
 And wifh to flmn eternal ftrife, 
 Seek one who never fhall prefume, 
 To flart a paradox from Hume. 
 Ten thoufand quibbles he contains, 
 Fit only to confound her brains. 
 Nor let her learn to talk by rule,- 
 Nor reafon [till fhe turns a fool ; 
 Nor ever quote a pointed phrafe, 
 Nor quit her wheel to pore on plays.' 
 Teach her, and cite the holy Paul, 
 That fpinfters never ought to brawl ; 
 That filence proves her manly fpirit, 
 And prompt obedience forms her merit. 
 
 A DREAM : 
 
 FEOM THE LATIN OF BUCHANAN. - 
 
 THE morning ftar had fhed his parting ray, 
 
 The dawn's gray fmile announc'd approaching day i 
 
 The fwain began his endlefs toil to curie, 
 
 The wakefome bantling battled with its nurfe. 
 
 Smoke from the chimney top eflay'd to rife, 
 
 The lark melodious warbled up the ikies ; 
 
 The barn-yard cock led down his female train, 
 
 The rooks Embodied pour'd acrofs the plain. 
 
 Rats from the cupboard hafted to retire, 
 
 And curs and cats throng'd round each kitchen fire. 
 
 My careful fpoufe the curtain-ledture clos'd, 
 
 With folemn wonder why her fervants doz'd ; 
 
 As if invaded by ten thoufand fleas, 
 
 Or china crack'd had robb'd her foul of eafe, 
 
 Or fome fhrewd fifter wrong'd her of a groat ; 
 
 Or bought perhaps too fine a petticoat,
 
 22O A DREAM. 
 
 From my embraces to the floor fhe fprung 
 
 And the whole houfe with wholefome proverbs rung. 
 
 Not half fo loudly, when he fears a wreck, 
 
 The furly boatfwain pipes all hands on deck, 
 
 When darknefs hides the deep, the rigging rends, 
 
 The pumps are choaking, and the hull defcends, 
 
 The pilot headlong from the rudder's thrown, 
 
 And all the raging ocean rumes down, 
 
 Myfelf more lazy, lay awake a bed, 
 
 When fudden heavy (lumber feiz'd my head, 
 
 And, all at once, before my frighten'd eyes, 
 
 The father of Francifcans feem'd to rife. 
 
 His waift was bound, as ufual, with a cord, 
 
 His back, the abfence of a ftiirt deplorVlj; 
 
 A cowl ccnceal'd his clofely fhaven crown, 
 
 And o'er his brawny moulders flow'd a gown. 
 
 His rofy cheeks, and his round bulky cheft, 
 
 Proclaim'd the fymptoms of a mind at reft. 
 
 In his right hand a crucifix he bore, 
 
 And in the left, a drefs like that he wore. 
 
 My joints, and every finew (hook with fear, 
 
 When thus the facred leeoh addrefs'd me with a fneer. 
 
 *' No more let midnight rambles wrong your health ; 
 
 " Refign, dear George, the rafti purfuit of wealth, 
 
 " From reafon's impious eminence defcend, 
 
 " And through the quagmire faith your footfteps bend. 
 
 " Fear, hope, and grief, and joy, alike are vain, 
 
 " The warmeft pleafure terminates in pain. 
 
 " This foolifti world no profpec~l can difplay, 
 
 t; For which the wife lofe would a (ingle day; 
 
 " Accept our garb, celeftial cares attend, 
 
 " Chant, hymns, count beads, and at our altars bend." 
 
 My courage rallied while the phantom fpoke, 
 
 And thus on his harangue, I boldly broke : 
 
 " Let others vaunt their fortitude efface, 
 
 " My carelefs temper fhudders at grimace. 
 
 Whatever fortune proffers, good or ill, 
 
 41 My thoughts^ I always told, and always will.
 
 OK THE ABUSE OF TIME. 2Z| 
 
 41 The novice, who prefumes to fill your gown, 
 44 Mufl caft his freedom and his confcience down. 
 * 4 Let thofe Hetefted hypocrites who can, 
 44 Abjure the generous feelings of a man, 
 4 Force from their cheeks the honefl blufh of youth, 
 '"'" And tell us they promote the caufe of truth: 
 *' That to perdition we muft all be driven, 
 " Unlefs impoflors point tlie way to heaven. 
 44 Go bid old women croke your ftupid hymns, 
 4t Shall I in dirty fackcloth wrap my limbs, 
 44 And like a favage madman wafle my days ? 
 44 Can bedlam propagate our Maker's praife? 
 * 4 Gould paradife be gain'd by this pretence, 
 44 I'd frankly dare the worft, with men of fenfe. 
 * 4 Whatever of falvation you declare, 
 u 'Tis fcldom that a monk obtains 3 mare. 
 44 Bifhops, indeed, are jolly honeft fellows, 
 44 Keepdoxiesof theirown, nor drive old fumblersjealousj 
 44 On pimps and parafites their bounty pour, 
 44 Nor quaff their Bourdeaux with a grin fo four. 
 " But leaving fanaticks to cant and pray, 
 44 They game and wench allnight, andgormandize all day. 
 44 Referve the gown, you value as a prize, 
 " Till fome more hungry candidate arifc 
 44 I'm no knight errant of eternal blii's, 
 44 Nor mail for the next world torment myfelf in this. 
 44 Yet, if you wifh me happinefs divine, 
 44 Mark what ElyCum I prefer as mine. 
 44 Gf fome rich mitre, conflitute me lord ; 
 44 Your belly mall be cramm'd for ever at my board." 
 
 ON THE ABUSE OF TIME. 
 
 vV E always find fo quick the moments run, 
 That life is ended ere 'tis well begun. 
 The bubble Hope is bought with fo much pain, 
 That few wife men would wiih to live again. 
 
 Tiij
 
 112 ON THR ABUSE OF TIME. 
 
 The dulleft mortal breathing ought to kno\r y 
 We're only in probation here below ; 
 And former hours, in vice or folly paft, 
 How folemn, and how terrible, the laft. 
 Yet fpite of all region can reveal, 
 And all conviction forces us to feel, 
 How vile an ufe do many make of time, 
 How frequent, how deplorable the crime ! 
 
 The early hunter rufhes to the chafe, 
 What brutal joy is painted in his face, 
 When fifty half-ftaiVd dogs with open throat, 
 Hum on a hare that's hardly worth a groat ? 
 
 Some give their nights, and wifh to give their dayg^ 
 To hear unletter'd vagrants mangle plays } 
 Deform the fcene pathetic Otway drew, 
 Andfpout in Shakefpeare's name, the tram henever knew. 
 From galleries, and pit, applaufe is roar'd, 
 While common fenfe turns pale at every word. 
 
 See how yon foakers pufh the glafs about, 
 And forfeit half their lives to gain the gout, 
 On fober Prudence break each vulgar jefl 7 
 And all the man is buried in the bead, 
 A Danifli doit,* a Patagonian flower, 
 JDemolifh oft an academic hour. 
 The lift of human whimfles is fo loag, 
 To tell the tithe would tire a Frenchman's tongue ; 
 Let all defend their foibles as they pleafe, 
 Exiflence was not lent for ends like thefe ; 
 No race, no cock-pit, their ambition fir'd, 
 When Phocion and Pelopidas expir'd. 
 
 Far other pleafures all their thoughts employ, 
 Superior fallies of untainted joy ; 
 Who rifle the remains of Greece and Rome, 
 And trace in ages paft, the fate of thofe to come ; 
 ^ 
 
 Twenty-fix quarto pages, befides feveral prints, have been 
 expended upon " the PENNY with tho name of Rodbertu* IV." 
 See Archzologia, Vol. V. p. 390.
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX* 223 
 
 Who to the toil of thinking dare fubmit, 
 Drink the rich flream of Smollet's fearlefs wit; 
 Revere in Swift, the wonder of his age, 
 And love and fludy Gay's facetious page ; 
 A few like thefe, would partly fill the void 
 Of thofe Tertullian's difciples deflroy'd. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX. 
 
 I WONDER, Harry, what delight 
 
 You feel in feeing rafcals fight ; 
 
 Or how poor mortals dare be proud, 
 
 Of daily fhedding fo much blood. 
 
 The beft excufe that can be made, 
 
 For fuch a vile, inhuman trade, 
 
 Is, when a man of virtue draws 
 
 His patriot fword, in Freedom's caufe ; 
 
 But who can give a right to you 
 
 To ravage Bengal or Peru ? 
 
 The hunter calls, the blood-hounds fly, 
 
 And guihlefs millions are to die. 
 
 Our hirelings, give me leave to fay, 
 Fight not for principle, but pay. 
 Ruffians, impatient of repofe, 
 For what have they to gain or lofc ? 
 And tell me, when the'war is ended, 
 Can they fuppofe their fortunes mended ? 
 They flill muft pay their pot of ale, 
 Or fee, full foon, their liquor fail. 
 The bcardlefs enfign makes his cane, 
 And they mufl bear the beau's difdain. 
 But let the bully dare a ftroke, 
 Or hazard one infulting joke, 
 On fome poor man who toils for bread, 
 The clown will break the coxcomb's head. 
 
 What, for fo many thoufand years, 
 Has fiH'd the world with blood and tears,
 
 224 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXIX* 
 
 But refllefs bedlamites, like you, 
 Who fcorn'd to fettle at the plow ? 
 The black record of ancient times 
 Is full of nothing but their crimes ; 
 The rank they bear in modern days 
 Can add but little to their praife ; 
 By whom was Corfica oppreft ? 
 A herd of cut-throats at the beft j 
 Pizarro did no more than you 
 Pradlife upon the poor Gentoo. 
 
 And who, alas ! will now deny 
 That Tiber's bed may foon be dry, 
 That muddy Nile may backwards flo\\ r T 
 And boiling .5Ltna vomit fnow ; 
 Since you, a man of fenfe and thought, 
 "Who fuch a world of books had bought, 
 Forfake felicity at home, 
 And all the wits of Greece and Rome, 
 To ramble round this wretched globe, 
 To burn, and butcher, fleal, and rob. 
 'Tis thus the royal forces ac~l, 
 (Let Impudence deny the fa& ;) 
 Our beggar'd loyal ifts can fay 
 What fums your Tartars made them pay j 
 And when Culloden's glorious field, 
 Had forc'd ill-fated Charles to yield ; 
 Who but the Devil would have done, 
 What they did, when the day was won ? 
 
 "What is, in fhort, a volunteer ? 
 Five words will make the matter clear ; 
 A lazy lounger who engages, 
 For ten times lefs than hangmen's wages, 
 In fpite of Nature's plaineft law, 
 To murder men he never faw ; 
 And thus he proves his public fpirit, 
 What worth fuch heroes mull inherit J 
 
 Since Ifrael, by divine command, - 
 Set out to clear the promis'd land ;
 
 HOEACE, LIB. I. ODE XXXIII. 22 J 
 
 With fpecial orders not to pity, 
 But raze or burn each impious city, 
 Pound every pregnant mother's bones, 
 And dam her infants on the ftones, 
 Though war has ne'er again his forehead 
 Infcrib'd with characters fo horrid, 
 Through all the feats of Rome and Greece, 
 The tale is always of a piece. 
 The lufl for pillage, rapine, blood, 
 Was ardour for the public good ; 
 But not one iingle war in ten 
 Was made to fave the rights of men ; 
 So many bouts are loft and won, 
 Such endlefs, mutual, mifchiefs done; 
 That Juftice, blufhing at the fight, 
 Swears neither party can be right. 
 
 Lay down your ill-directed pride ; 
 Go home, take care of your fire-C.de ; 
 And, if you hate a peaceful life, 
 Provide, betimes, a loving wife. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. ODE XXXIII. 
 
 Do not, dear Ned, fo gravely mourn 
 
 The falfehood of the fair ; 
 But all your fervile verfes burn, 
 Before they take the air. 
 
 I muft, upon my foul, defpife 
 A lover who fincerely fighs. 
 
 The pretty prattling fools are proud, 
 
 To give their betters pain : 
 But, when our angels are allow'i 
 Full leifure to difdain ; 
 
 We read in each relenting face, 
 
 They would, but dare not, turn the chafe.
 
 2i THE PATKIOT. 
 
 5 Tis not your men of fenfe or wit, 
 Who win their wavering hearts ; 
 You muft, the female tafte to hit, 
 Aflame a Coxcomb's arts : 
 At every ball be fure to mine, 
 And laugh at fools who cringe and pine* 
 
 Then Madam's pride will take alarm, 
 
 To fee her pow'r difdain'd ; 
 And then me 1 !! fummon every charm 
 To get the rover chain'd : 
 And then the fort's within your reach, 
 You may, at pleafure, florin the breach. 
 
 THE PATRIOT. 
 
 VV HATEVER rank we hold among mankind, 
 
 Wifdom will recsmmend a fteady naind. 
 
 Though fleeting fortune bid her bounties flow, 
 
 Mark how content the beggar halts below. 
 
 He fees contending kings for fafety fight, 
 
 And peaceably enjoys his humble right, 
 
 His heart is light, full cheaply is he fed, 
 
 And each barn-floor can ferve him for a bed. 
 
 You muft not, then, the poorer rank defpife, 
 
 Becaufe they cannot to your height arife. 
 
 Born to your fortune, they had flione like you, 
 
 Hume, bred a plowman, might have held his plow j 
 
 And common fenfe had furely ty'd his tongue, 
 
 Admitting Mofes and the clergy wrong. 
 
 " How many men fine poets might have made 
 
 " Whofe wit (faid Locke), lies buried in a trade." 
 
 Milton, a cobler, had not fung the ikies 
 
 But rail'd in rhyme at Bifliops and Excife. 
 
 The puns of Swift had forc'd fome vulgar fmiles, 
 
 And fpread his fame through ten or twenty miles.
 
 THE PATRIOT. 227 
 
 And tender Otway from the lift'ning crowd, 
 Had ftole a figh for " Orphans in the Wood." 
 Perhaps the very boy who drives your cows, 
 Cculd bear great Dryden's laurel on his brows, 
 And feels within his breaft that facred'fire, 
 Which we, too late, in Chatterton admire. 
 For oft our talent in oblivion lies, 
 Till fome reverfe of fortune bids it rife. 
 Thus had not virtue rous'd a tyrant's wrath, 
 More had not taught ns how to fmile at death. 
 Thus had not Shakefpeare mot at Shallow's deer, 
 Ophelia's fate might ne'er have forced a tear, 
 The Prince of bards had calmly comb'd his wool, 
 And paft, perhaps, with pedants for a fool. 
 Aflonifh'd nations had not hail'd his name, 
 And Englifti wit had wanted half its fame. 
 But as good fenfe forbids you to difdain 
 The homely plowman plodding o'er the plain, 
 Ten thoufand thoufand hackney'd tales atteft, 
 That mankind's mailers are at war with reft. 
 Does fond ambition all your foul employ, 
 Let this reflection every wifh deflroy ; 
 " That happinefs the great have feldom'known, 
 " And leaft of all that man who wears a crown." 
 While Sully's hero made his people blefl, 
 Domeflic mifery ftabb'd the monarch's reft ; 
 -And what embitter'd, what deftroy'd his life? 
 A ftuimpet's malice and a madman's knife. 
 'Tis a trite truth that ignorance alone, 
 Make us repine at ranks above our own. 
 Remark my lord, his carriage, and his gout, 
 And blefs your fortune, you can walk about. 
 Nature to moft is equally fevere, 
 And death foon ends each vain diftind\ion here^ 
 The rich, the poor, the mendicant, the king, 
 Return to the fame duft from which they fpring. 
 Nor by the faithful mould it be forgot, 
 Omnifcient goodnefs fixes every lot.
 
 2ft THE PATRIOT. 
 
 And when you murmur at the part that's gives, 
 
 What are you but a mutineer to heaven. 
 
 And what wife man wculd fhew his rage in vain, 
 
 Or madly bite an adamantine chain. 
 
 Here common fenfe for once at leaft combines, 
 
 "With the grave cant of orthodox divines. 
 
 You hear with patience all I have to fay ; 
 But flill ambition bears your heart away. 
 You cannot think felicity complete, 
 Unlefs you fhare the glories of the great. 
 tc And fure," you cry, " 'tis quite a different thing, 
 " To cringe as lacquey, and command as king. 
 " Who would not wifh to figure in the HOUSE 
 " What fond applaufe my talents might produce." 
 
 For every freak, fome fond excufe we find, 
 Does public fpirit really fire your mind ? 
 No longer ftrain your lungs in each debate ; 
 Are you concern 1 d what broker pawns the flate. 
 Your talk will never turn one factious voice, 
 Each patriot has already fixed his choice. 
 In, vain Demofthenes himfelf might bawl, 
 One luft for plunder rages through them all. 
 Or mould by chance an honefl man go there, 
 No living foul would fancy him fincere. 
 Both fides would wonder what the Quixote meant, 
 
 And tell him he difgrac'd the meffage he was fent. 
 
 School-boys alone would dream of fuch a part, 
 No fenator fpeaks fairly from his heart. 
 
 Through right and wrong his fide he mufl defend, 
 
 Or elfe be branded as a faithlefs friend. 
 
 Statefmen at beft, are a<lors in a play, 
 
 This is in fad\ the language of the day. 
 
 And would you rifk fame, fortune, health, and eafe, 
 
 Merely to herd with partifans like thefe. 
 Then raife no more a vile election mob, 
 
 To tell them how the great the nation rob ; 
 
 Thefe apron'd patriots, railing from below, 
 
 Would copy, if above, their betters now.
 
 TfiEPATKIOT. 
 
 5Tor weakly fancy that fuch fordid crimes, 
 Reflect uncommon fcandal on the times. 
 Such was the fcene in every feff.on paft, 
 Were the fame feLfim vermin firft and laft. 
 The premier knows the pi ice of every man, 
 And cools as many patriots as he can ; 
 But in all this he drives at nothing more, 
 Than Carthage, Rome, and Athens did before ; 
 And let for once this happy truth be told, 
 The world appears to mend as it grows old. 
 For though like them we daily vend our votes, 
 No more our placemen cut each other's throats. 
 No courtier now by {tabbing would fucceed, 
 Shrewd poli&Vd perfidy fupplies its ftead, 
 
 We'll {late the cafe which fince old time began, 
 Has rarely happened to one fingle man ; 
 That all your actions meet fupreme applaufe, 
 That matchlefs talents gain the nobleft caufe. 
 That grateful nations hail your fpotlefs fame, 
 And vanquifhed tyrants tremble at your name; 
 Even fuch a patriot finds his fate fevere, 
 And learns what fcan'ty peace awaits him here. 
 In vain to public juftice will he truft, 
 See good Camillus humbled in the duft. 
 But why through ancient annals would we roam. 
 When full conviction may be found at home. 
 
 Thus generous Hampden all the world admire, 
 But had he liv'd to fee the laws expire, 
 To fee his fenate from their grandeur thrown, 
 And Cromwell's majors make the realm their own ; 
 Hampden, perhaps, had fcrupled at the zeal, 
 Which led him to protect the public weal, 
 In freedom's aid provoke the carelefs crowd, 
 And drench whole kingdoms in a crimfon flood. 
 
 When Blenheim's hero bow'd the Gallic pride, 
 Trode down the fop, who juftice had defy'd, 
 And ne'er was lefs than victor in the field, 
 And ne'er affail'd a fort which did not yield ;
 
 23 THE PATRIOT. 
 
 What fums were fpent triumphal piles to raife? 
 How many a bard was penfion'd in his praife ? 
 We hail'd his progrefs for a length of years, 
 And clafs'd him firft by far of Europe's peers ; 
 And was not this felicity complete ? 
 Could fuch a favourite fear reverftng fate ? 
 One ferious moment from your dreams defcend, 
 And trace this heir of glory to his end. 
 Repenting all that ten campaigns had done, 
 At once we quitted what our arms had won. 
 His goffip fovereign fpurn'd the haughty chiefj 
 The plunder'd nation hifs'd him as a thief ; 
 Pride, anguifli, indignation, fhook his brain, 
 The dotard trembled at the martial train. 
 Nor wealth, nor titles, could afford him eafe, 
 Nor all his treafures buy domeflic peace. 
 The man whofe fame had rivall'd Greece and Rome, 
 Crawl'd a poor idiot cuckold to the tomb. 
 
 Nor need I to your common fenfe fubmit, 
 How dear we purchas'd the renown of Pitt. 
 An hundred precious millions were paid down, 
 To fhelter thofe who flnce our name difown. 
 Nine years the nation bled in every vein, 
 Twelve years we paufe, and lo! we tilt again. 
 A fecond hundred millions are expended, 
 To vanquim thofe we jufl before defended. 
 Had Clive, and Wolfe, and Granby, kept at home, 
 And ply'd the plow, the anvil, and the loom, 
 We might, no doubt, have fail'd of martial fame, 
 But public credit had not been fo lame ; 
 The debts of England had long fince been paid. 
 And all its millions multiplied in trade. 
 Our naval heroes with the utmoft eafe, 
 Of every foe had fairly fwept the feas ; 
 And all who know found policy muft own, 
 This our true road to riches and renown. 
 
 When fome fmall flate, where peace and freedom find, 
 A refuge from thejoadnefs of mankind,
 
 THE PATRIOT. 2JI 
 
 Where no attorney picks the poor man's purfe *, 
 
 And blamelefs curates hefitate to curfe ; 
 
 Where guiltlefs do&ors modeftly declare, 
 
 That the befl pills are exercife and air ; 
 
 Where no proud tyrant tears the crop away, 
 
 And bids his vaflals tremble and obey ; 
 
 Where every fwain with frugal plenty bleft, 
 
 Protects, and is protected by the reft ; ] 
 
 'Tis there thofe awful fcenes of worth arife, 
 
 Degen'rate ages hear with juft furprife ; 
 
 And fcarce believe a foldier can be proud, 
 
 To feal the rights of mankind with his blood. 
 
 'Twas thus, of old, her brave immortal pair 
 Freed fervile Thebes from bondage and defpair, 
 Led forth her fons to conquer or to die, 
 And taught proud Sparta's proudefl chief to fly. 
 
 But in our days 'tis quite another fcene, 
 When hirelings figh* and know not what they mean; 
 And they, forfooth, are in purfuit of glory, 
 And they would purchafe fame in future (lory. 
 How wretched is the fool who breaks a limb, 
 To pleafe fome rainifler's atrocious whim, 
 To buy their ftupid huzzas from the mob, 
 Or fhield rapacious pedlars when they rob. 
 
 Then you, my zealous, but rniftaken friend, 
 To this tempeftuous virtue put an end. 
 In vain you hope old England to reform, 
 Retire without the vortex of the ftorm ; 
 Enjoy contentment at your own fire-fide, 
 And fmile at all the poor purfuits of pride. 
 JJor in your mind let that mean maxim enter, 
 That our whole pleafures in ourfelves fhould center. 
 To all the world be ufeful where you can, 
 A worthy heart forms half the happinefs of man. 
 
 * To Britons, this circumftance may fem romantic; but it 
 takes place in Switztrland. Many peafants in that country hare 
 never once heard of a law-fuit. 
 
 Uij
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE AND ORIGIN OF DRESS; 
 
 THE rich avoid and laugh at thofc 
 Who cannot purchafe coflly clothes ; 
 Their valets play that very game, 
 (For both at bottom are the fame) 
 Survey the value of your coat, 
 And guefs if you be worth a groat, 
 Before they'll condefcend to fay, 
 Their mafter may be feen to-day ; 
 ,And we may honeftly confefs 
 Their wit in judging by one's drefs ; 
 For truly, as the world now goes, 
 Your beft friend's Sunday fuit of clothes, 
 If to an honeft broker fold, 
 Are worth his friendship ten times told ; 
 And let not this provoke his pride, 
 An otter's hunted for it's hide, 
 The lovely form that wakes our woes, 
 No deeper than tbefurface goes ; 
 We kill the beaver for his clothing, 
 But know his carcafe good for nothing. 
 From cinnamon we peel the ikin, 
 The wood is hardly worth a pin. 
 
 But Cnce the great contemn as trafh, 
 All mankind who run fhort of cam, 
 Suppofe fome beggar with a fneer 
 Silencing thus, the faucy Peer. 
 - 1 - With Anfon I had loft a leg, 
 " Ten years ere I began to beg ; 
 '"'' Ivor was my fervice dearly bought, 
 
 4 A flogging paid each month I fought; 
 
 ' And after all your haughty tattle, 
 
 1 'Twas men like me who won the battle j 
 
 1 Had we, poor fools, refus'd to go, 
 
 v Your Lordfhip had, for ought you.
 
 OX THE IMPORTANCE AUD ORIGIN OF DRESS. 233 
 
 u For ever from our ifle expell'd,] 
 
 " A befom in the Baftile held. 
 
 44 My taylor at the time I fet, 
 
 " Has always been paid off as yet ; 
 
 44 And nobody can think I fhun, 
 
 " Or dread the vifits of a dun, 
 
 44 Though feme allege, that half a fcore .J 
 
 44 Have long befet a certain door. 
 
 44 I'm fure I could not fhow my face, 
 
 44 To fell my country for a place j 
 
 44 Or take my principles by rote 
 
 44 From flatefmen who can buy my vote j 
 
 " Or throw thofe victuals to my hounds, 
 
 44 For which the poor would plow my grounds. 
 
 44 The gentry need not be fo proud, 
 
 44 Of what they call their noble blood ; 
 
 44 For when Mifs Eve in Eden fpan, 
 
 " Our common parentage began ; 
 
 44 And then as to your fplendid drefs, 
 
 44 Your betters have been fervM with lefs. 
 
 44 When Power Divine a garden planted, 
 
 44 Adam got all that Nature wanted ; 
 
 44 And had not Madam and the Devil 
 
 " Put matters off their proper level, 
 
 44 Had me refus'd to tafte his fruit, 
 
 44 And tweak'd the ferpent by the fnout, 
 
 44 Your Lordfhip at this very day, 
 
 44 Made perfect as divines would fay, 
 
 44 In Paradife had planted kail, 
 
 44 With not a rag to hide your tail ; 
 
 44 And not a penny in your purfe, 
 
 44 How fine a world before th& curfe T 
 
 44 Your pantry could not then have boaftcd 
 
 44 A fingle joint of boil'd or roafled ; 
 
 44 And butter'd cabbage at the beft, 
 
 44 Had-ferv'd your Saintfliip for afeafh- 
 
 Uiij
 
 HORACE, BOOK II. ODE IV. 
 
 DEAR Frank, you need not be afraid, 
 
 To court a poor, but honeft maid. 
 
 The ladies tell you to be nice, 
 
 In order to fupport their price* 
 
 By birth, and finery, and wit, 
 
 A thoufand fools are daily bit; 
 
 And learn, when counting every coil, 
 
 They mould have fomething elfe to boaft, 
 
 Than a gay, pert, expenfive girl, 
 
 Defcended from a Duke or Earl. 
 
 In ading thus, you do no more, 
 Than what the wife have done before. 
 Old Abram left old Sarah's arms, 
 To feaft on Hagar's jolly charms. 
 Kind Jacob, when his mates befought him, 
 Afcended every girl they brought himf. 
 Ixtofes, when turn'd of eighty, led 
 A jetty virgin to his bed. 
 T"ond Ruth accepted from her fwain, 
 The pill that cures a widow's pain. 
 For once at leafl a Soldier's dame, 
 Extinguilh'd holy David's flame ; 
 And, when he could no longer harm, 
 A trull was hir'd to keep him warm. 
 
 Nor dread that Phyllis will difgracc 
 The honours of your ancient race : 
 For now a days it is confefs'd, 
 Nobility's a Gothic jefl. 
 The* vixens who at Phyllis rail, 
 If better bidders chance to fail, 
 
 f The life of this Patriarch, as recorded in the Old Teila- 
 ment, difplays a juft and beautiful pifture. It is one of thofe 
 productions which we never tire of reading. The complaifance 
 hinted at in the text, might afford an ufeful leflbn to the fordid 
 petulance of our modern dames.
 
 THE NEWSPAPEB. 235 
 
 In fpite of all the din they make, 
 
 At which your prudence feems to quake, 
 
 To-morrow may their footmen vred, 
 
 Or be with barbers caught a-bed. 
 
 But who like Phyllis would difdain, 
 
 The fond alluring hope of gain ; 
 
 And which of all her rivals, pray, 
 
 So neat an ancle can difplay ; 
 
 Such fnowy arms, fo fine a waift, 
 
 Such innate elegance of tafte. 
 
 Her feet ! by George, I muft be bled, 
 
 Or kifs the carpet which they tread ; 
 
 And then, the radiance of her eyes I 
 
 I feet the maddefl raptures rife ; 
 
 And fcarce fhall think for half an hour, 
 
 I'll foon be turn'd of fixty-four. 
 
 THE NEWSPAPER : 
 
 OR, 
 A PEEP AT THE LITERARY WORLD. 
 
 LET me with Tartars on a (lallion dine, 
 Freeze at the pole, or pant below the line, 
 Or row the galley of fome pirate Moor, 
 Or foak in brandy with a Ruffian boor, 
 Or hold the bottle when two butchers box, 
 Or bet my Bible on Lord Squander's cocks ; 
 Rather than fit in filence, while the men 
 Whofe lives reverfe the precepts of their pen, 
 Whofe characters are fcorn'd, prefum'd to prate 
 On friendfliip, honour, and the devil knows what. 
 
 Learning itfelf is now extremely fcarce, 
 And buying claffics but a folemn farce. 
 No Greek or Latin plague Pompofo's head, 
 >"<* can he relifh what he cannot read ?
 
 2j6 THE NEWSPAPER. 
 
 Mseonides may pour his lofty flrain, 
 But Heftor conquers Helen weeps in vain. 
 Though Boyle, and Bacon, on his fhelves are plac'd. 
 From frefher moderns has he form'd his tafte ; 
 Through half their title page he dares not toil, 
 
 But pores on C d, Rochefler, and Hoyle ; 
 
 Or nods o'er Pamela's profound harangue, 
 Or fpouts French catches with a nafal twang.; 
 Or fhidies in the Journal of the day, 
 The plot and prologue of the lafl new play. 
 
 Nay, when he would effay to think or write, 
 What mice the mountain ufhers into light ; 
 As whether Swift his chaflity preferv'd, 
 Why Lee went mad, and whether Otway flarv'dj 
 Why Addifon was hen-peck 1 d by his wife, 
 And fleep'd in port the poftfcript of his life ; 
 Goldfmith how flow, how rapid Fielding wrote, 
 How cheaply Steele his Taller e flays bought, 
 Why beaftly Johnfon ne'er a nightcap wore, 
 Why Pope was peevifh when his lungs were fore, 
 Why flannel fhirts in winter he put on, 
 And ftew'd and pick'd his lampreys to the bone, 
 Was proud with trafli the pofi-office to cram, 
 And made wry faces while he fipp'd a dram ; 
 Why Dry den in a club of fools grew dumb, 
 What Cambridge beadle pepper'd Milton's bum ; 
 How ruftic Shakefpeare could not fpeil his name, 
 And fpurn'd both pofthumous and prefent fame ; 
 While that tremendous trump'ry, term'd his notes, 
 Whole reams of volumes in fucceflion blots ; 
 Where page on page a pedant can afford, 
 To fix the fpell'mgof one worthlefs word. 
 
 To royal fcenes another goofe quill foars, 
 A Charles, an Edward, or an Henry's whores ; 
 Or ftrains the pureil didion to exprefs, 
 The wit and chaftity of virgin Befs ; 
 What gowns, and ruffs, and farthingales fhe wore, 
 Kpw well fhe danc'd, and bojc'd, and rhim'd, and fworr;
 
 THE NEWSPAPEK. 237 
 
 Her maids of honour with a knife would hack, 
 And fprain her chaplain or her viceroy's back. 
 What fpotlefs honour warm'd each James's heart, 
 How well poor Mary play'd a veftal's part ; 
 How many pregnant wives at once fell dead, 
 When Common Senfe knock' d off the martyr's head ;* 
 How well Dutch William lov'd a plate of peafe, 
 And if John died by prieflcraft or difeafe.f 
 
 Another band of yet fuperior fkill, 
 Trace valiant Arthur's march from hill to hill j 
 Can tell within ten minutes at the moft, 
 When Canute landed on the Kentifh coaft; | 
 How many ruffians Cumbria's fceptre fway'd, 
 What vile hobnails a Mercian hammer made, 
 When firfl Mancunium from a pig-ftye turn'd, 
 When firfl in Saxon chimnies charcoal burn'd ; 
 Whether from Wales or Galloway the route, 
 Of Noah's grandfons for lerne fet out;|| 
 What crowns of gold the kings of Munfler wore, 
 Ere Sparta's cuckold touch'd the Trojan more. 
 
 The feudal Sage at learned length defcribcs 
 The generous virtues of the German tribes, 
 With what pure freedom they beflow'd their votes, 
 What calm delight they cut each other's throats ; 
 
 * See a moft pathetic paflage on this fubjec* in Mr. Hume"* 
 Hiflory of Charles I. 
 
 f Archaeologia, Vol. IV. p. 29. et feq. 
 
 | Ibid. Vol. VIIL p. 106. et feq. 
 
 Ibid. Vol. III. p. 35. See a diflertation on the antiquity of 
 horfe fhoes; and another, ibid. p. 39. " On (hoeing of horfcs a- 
 ' mong the ancients." Alfo " Obfervations on ancient fpurs." 
 Ibid. Vol. VIII. p. 43. ef feq. 
 
 B Ibid. Vol. I. p. 49. An antiquarian attempts to prove that 
 Britain was NOT firft inhabited by any of the defcendants of Co- 
 rner ; an important difcovery ! For the circumftance mentioned 
 in the next couplet, fee Ohalloran, and fome unaccountable 
 fafts very well attefted in the. Archscologia, Vol. II. p. 32.
 
 238 THE NEWSPAPER. 
 
 How cheerfully they quafF'd the focial horn, 
 And held all arts but homicide in fcorn. 
 Nay, when to age their force began to yield, 
 Nor death had chanc'd to meet them in the field $ 
 Then as the climax of their martial whims, 
 O'er fome tall precipice they broke their limbs. 
 What fpacious room for admiration here, 
 How much lefs lovely a Norwegian bear ! 
 From this bright fource two antiquarian eyes 
 Can fee the liberties of England rife ; 
 On fuch a topick was it not worth while, 
 Twelve hundred lively quartos to compile ? 
 
 In latter times he paints a knighted pair 
 Couching the lance to prove their doxies fair ; 
 Tells how each vaffal on his wedding night, 
 Refign'd the lover's to the baron's right j 
 Whether a wretch from bondage who had fled, 
 Or by his nofe, or ears, was homewards led ; 
 Whether when reeling headlong round his houfie, 
 A Norman pirate ever kick'd his fpoufe ; 
 Fa&s pour on facts, a moft important flore, 
 We have not time, nor patience, to run o'er. * 
 
 Argus had wanted eyes enough to glance 
 On half your tours through Italy and France ; 
 Nine thoufand tomes, a fcanty computation, 
 With ink, and nonfenfe, overwhelm the nation. 
 Sermons but here, mayhap, I fhall be told, 
 The very title makes your blood run cold ; 
 That though whole tons are printed every day, 
 No mortal cares a fig for what they fay. 
 Our fober anceftors, whofe nerves were flrong, 
 Could hear, with tranfport, ledures twelve hours long. 
 
 * On thil fubjcft the reader may confult Whitaker, Strutt, 
 and other popular writers. It was thought needlefs to crowd 
 the bottom of the page with quotations. By the way, Mr. Whit, 
 ker feems very often pofieffed of what he himfelf calli " an ami- 
 " able credulity of fpirit." 
 
 Additions to his Defence of Qjiecn Mary, p. .117-
 
 THE NEWSPAPER. Ijg 
 
 How fadly fince have matters been derang'd, 
 How foon old Slyboots our revolt reveng'd ; 
 On Death, and Judgment, when divines enlarge, 
 What modern mufcles chufe to ftand the charge? 
 Now with this world fo wofully perplex'd, 
 We fcarce find time to ponder on the next. 
 Nay, fome abandon'd profligates declare, 
 We'd judge to the mofl purpofe when got there. 
 
 Unlefs another Omar mail arife, 
 And with ten thoufand bonefires gild the ikies, 
 The furface of our globe muft ceafe to hold 
 The monthly mountains into calf-flan roll'd. 
 The quack, attorney, critic, and divine, 
 All in peculiar paths pretend to mine. 
 The bladder one informs you how to probe, 
 The next, in fpite of Tyburn, hew to rob ; 
 A third would cenfure works he cannot fpell, 
 A fourth engraves a folio map of hell. * 
 One the whole pugiliflick art difplays, 
 From brawny Broughton, down to Johnfon'i days ; 
 Where to defend, attack, to fall, to clofe, 
 To fplit the jaw bone, or to pound the nofc. 
 Your patriot mews the minifler a fool, 
 Your half-pay captain how to flafti by rule. 
 One quarto teaches how to break a horfe, 
 One how bad parfnips may be turn'd to worfe ; 
 From Cambden topographers take the hint, 
 And every parifh ruflies into print. 
 
 Read Burke's eternal letter to an end, 
 Or crack-brain'd Bofwell on his tour attehd ;t 
 
 The Editor has adhially feen fuch a map, in the front of a 
 large volume, tranflated, if he has not forgotten, from the orU 
 ginal of a German. The well known map of Spiritual Naviga. 
 tion, may be confidered as a counterpart. 
 
 f The degrees of contempt are not infinite, and a character 
 acquires liability, by being placed at the bottom of the fcale.
 
 240 THE NEWSPAPER. 
 
 Pope, bury'd in the mire of Warton's flcull, 
 
 So trite, perplex'd, impertinent, and dull ; * 
 
 Or Warburton's divine legation bore, 
 
 And all the u facred" fcenes of Hannah More ; 
 
 Thofe letters Lady Wortley never wrote, 
 
 Or Craven's fcrawls fo innocent of thought, 
 
 Or Jofeph Marfliairs jaunt, where by the bye, 
 
 Through four thick volumes every word's a lie ;f 
 
 Or modeft Bellamy's important tale, 
 
 So archly fitted for a bagnio fale ; 
 
 Where the pert harlot, fpouting foolim plays, 
 
 In place of infamy demands our praife j 
 
 Or honeft Mirabeau's hiftoric fpy, 
 
 To which a halter only mould reply ; 
 
 Or poor RoufTeau's unfortunate detail, 
 
 Of all that bedlam blufhes to unveil ;| 
 
 Thofe five portentous tomes about a fiddle, 
 
 Nor Oedipus nor Hawkins could unriddle ; 
 
 Or the bright anthems of our birth-day bard; 
 
 If yet one verfe the barber's tongs have fpar'd ; 
 
 Piozzi's chat, the novelifls of Lane, || 
 
 That paragon of peerage, Lady Vane ; 
 
 Or Anna Yearfeley's admirable note, 
 
 Sweet as the warbling of a fcreech owl's throat ; 
 
 Then with contemptuous pity fliall you fay, 
 
 How much good paper has been call away 1 
 
 * See above, p. 38. 
 
 f- No fuch perfon ever exifted. 
 
 } See his CoHfeffions, in four or five volumes. 
 
 || An eminent London bookfeller who advertifes for MSS- 
 We cannot blame him for felling what we chufe to buy. 
 
 This is the Briftol milk-woman. Her reception juftifies the 
 remark that " Wonder, ufually accompanied by a bad tafte, looks 
 " out only for what is uncommon ; and if a work comes abroad 
 4 under the name of a Threflier, a Bricklayer, or a Lord, it is 
 " fure to be eagerly fought after by the million." 
 
 Introduction to Sheridan's Life of Swift.
 
 THE KEWS?Af ER. 241 
 
 That paper which (a far fuperior ufe) 
 
 Might well have ferv'd our honefl Mother Goofe, 
 
 Or Banyan's Progrefs to the world to come, 
 
 The Seven Wife Mailers, Whitfield, and Tom Thumb. 
 
 Sagacious Elphinftone ! thou bard divine ! 
 Did ever dulnefs eke fuch trafh as thine? 
 Who has not heard where Englifh works arc nam'd, 
 What precious metre thy fage wit has fram'd.? 
 Skilful alike to cenfure and to praife, 
 An arch fpe&ator of Rome's darker days, 
 Long Martial charm'd the world, and charms it flill, 
 But what a monfler iflues from thy quill ! 
 While all our boys are cruelly perplex'd, 
 What volume is the verilon or the text ; 
 Admiring which of thefe can be the tongue, 
 In which, for plumb-cake, they have pled fo long* 
 
 How ftrangely Gordon hath diflorted thee, 
 Couldfl thou, flem Tacitus, revive to fee ; 
 See Senfe and Grammar fron) thy page retire, 
 Thy pathos buried, and thy force expire ; 
 That force, which if to Homer's it mufl yield, , ' 
 
 Like vanquifli'd Ajax, flowly quits the field; 
 Thy Spartan period in dull length extend, 
 Through viler profe than Whiflon ever penn'd ; 
 How like an eagle pouncing on her prey, 
 Would thy keen talons drag him into day ; 
 And tofs the bungler down the gulf of fcorn, 
 The laughing-flock of ages yet unborn. 
 
 Such precious fadts from Learning's fountain pour, 
 To vamp the volumes of the vacant hour ; 
 Far fooner mall I in the Herald read, 
 What fchemes are hatching in the Premier's head ; 
 Why laft night's privy council fat fo late. 
 What mare each member bore in each debate ; 
 What the Grand Turk when not a foul was near, 
 W T hifper'd one morning in the Mufti's ear ; 
 Why Upper Egypt to revolt intends, 
 Why France, and Gorfica, continue friends j 
 X
 
 242 THE NEWSPAPER. 
 
 Whether, when ninety lagging years run out, 
 
 A Pope has dy'd of ratfbane or the gout ; 
 
 What fliops with port his majefly fupply, 
 
 Or iiow well feafon'd his laft Glo'fter pye ; 
 
 WTiy the Mogul firuck of his Vifier's head, 
 
 Why fools tranflate before they learn to read; 
 
 Where with the moil convenience mares are bled, 
 
 \Vhat dutchefs with her barber's caught a-bed ; 
 
 What jocky dukes are jufl arriv'd in town, 
 
 How oft Mendoza knock'd poor Humphries down j 
 
 What faving pro] eft Sherry has to broach, 
 
 What azure fattin lin'd fome bankrupt's coach ; 
 
 How tennis aud quadrille diffolve his gold, 
 
 His flud how dearly bought, how cheaply fold ; 
 
 How young 'Squire Bubble on his private flage, 
 
 Eclips'd all parrots of the prefent age ; 
 
 How tenderly Mifs Tumbledown behav'd, 
 
 How Chamont fcamper'd, and Monimia rav'd ; 
 
 And how their audience, while Champaign run o'er, 
 
 Extoll'd the farce, below contempt before ; 
 
 W r ith what refinement Pacherotti fings, 
 
 How nimbly on the faddle Aftley fprings ; 
 
 Of fapient aldermen with turtle gorg'd, 
 
 Of invalids for tippling porter fcourg'd j 
 
 What widow wifhes for an active mate, 
 
 W T hen Charger covers at the loweft rate ; 
 
 What lottery-office deals the richeft fhower, 
 
 What a French pedagogue demands per hour ; 
 
 The price of wafli-ball, lavender, and hops, 
 
 What refurrec~lions follow Maredant's drops ; 
 
 And how all mortal, and immortal ills 
 
 Shrink from the fight of Leake's venereal pills. 
 
 We need not figh for Plautus or Moliere, 
 The Whitehall poft fupplies their purpofe here; 
 Dulnefs itfelf would fmile at the review, 
 And Zion's fage acknowledgeTbwc^m^- new. 
 Figures fo rapid on the canvafs rife, 
 Such happy groupes the gazetteer fuppliet.!
 
 THE NEWSPAPER. 243 
 
 Who but with raptures of refpet mufl heir, 
 
 That fix grey ponies fmoke beneath a peer ;* 
 
 What banker's clerk at Dover has been ftopt, 
 
 What chopping baftard in a privy dropt ; 
 
 What generous foes avoid to fire with ball, 
 
 What taylor's wife hates footmen when they're tall > 
 
 His bride what porter in a rope has bought, 
 
 What player pimps, what parfon's forg'd a note j 
 
 Where teeming maids retirement may enjoy, 
 
 What quacks a foetus in the womb deftroy ;f 
 
 Eats how to kill, and butterflies prefervej 
 
 What tools are penfion'd, and what patriots ftarve ; 
 
 How fome ram family the world can fpare, 
 
 Was beggar'd for the murder of a hare ; 
 
 And how fome wretch want now compels to beg, 
 
 Pick'd berries till a man-trap crufh'd his leg ; 
 
 Or {hot the pigeons that deftroy'd his corn, 
 
 And from his ploughmare was to Bridewell torn ; 
 
 Why tars with Anfon who went round the world, 
 
 Were down a {linking hold in handcuffs hurl'd g ^ 
 
 What heirefs with her father's groom was feen, 
 
 O'erleap each toll-bar 'twixt and Gretna Green j 
 
 What dotard with a wench of twenty-one, 
 
 In quefl of cuckoldom to church hath gone ; 
 
 Of Fortune's envy, what a fatal proof, 
 
 When an old nail run through Sir Peter's hoof; 
 
 Or where, with venifon, laft Monday kill'd, 
 
 Your paunch for half a guinea may be fill'd. 
 
 Facts more important ftill, they oft difplay, 
 When vice triumphant, blunders into day > 
 
 Juvenal mentions a Roman conful who drove his chariot by 
 moon light ; but adds, that at the expiration of his office, he 
 would drive it in broad day. Such men juflify the remark of 
 Lutker, " A ftone knows its ftone ; and an afs knows that he's 
 " but an afs." 
 
 t In Forfter's elegant account of one of Cook's voyages, there 
 is inferted a copy of an advertifement to this purpofe, with foin 
 reflexions on its naturt and tendency.
 
 244 A CSARACTEH. 
 
 What Lord Chief Juftice a harangue has made, . 
 To prove 'tis wrong to call a fpade a fpade, 
 And better wide from guilty truth to fteer, 
 Than plunge in Newgate's offals for a year ; 
 What borough-candidate contriv'd to fpend 
 All he was worth, and all his friends would lend ; 
 With pedlars, chimney-fweeps, and butchers din'd, 
 With tuns of porter every tavern lin'd ; 
 DancM with each bumpkin beauty of the town, 
 Pledg'd every toaft, drank all his pledges doAvn ; 
 Whole troops of bruifers to the Huflings brought, 
 And mifs'd his purchafe by a carman's vote. 
 
 But moft of all we're happy in the hour, 
 When Fox and Pit their vocal thunders pour ; 
 When fomc excife aft into rags is torn, 
 And mutual taunts are dealt with mutual fcorn. 
 What flrength of lungs and logic are difplay'd ! 
 A fcene where Tully might have learn'd his trade ; 
 What rich embellifhments the farce would bear, 
 But 'tis full time to finifh our career. 
 
 A CHARACTER. 
 
 OF men in whom North Britain's bled, 
 
 On whom the poor depend for bread ; 
 There's one, we frankly may atteft, 
 
 The world could fcarce fupply his ftead ; 
 That he, in Friendship' s walk, hath fhonc, 
 Like Hannibal in arms, unrivall'd and alone. 
 
 Let ficknefs kill his ploughmen's cattle, 
 
 Or Auguft rot their crops with rain, 
 He does not flog them into battle, 
 
 Arreft, imprifon, and diilrain ; 
 No grinding flatute is diftorted, 
 But every tear wip'd off, and every nerve fupportcd;
 
 A CHARACTER. 24J 
 
 While forne whole clouds of pigeons breed, 
 
 To pick the farmer's wheat when fown, 
 And fixty pair of blood hounds lead, 
 
 To tread the ripen'd harvefl down, 
 And ftrip the cow-herd's only coat, 
 Who fells a partridge worth a groat.* 
 
 Ye dire difpenfers of the peace, 
 
 On every human right who trample ! 
 From forcing our abhorrence, ceafe ; 
 
 And follow his fublime example. 
 No more foall nations pray, and hope, 
 To fee your worfhips dangle in a rope. 
 
 Ye Pharaohs of this generous age, 
 
 Who fcourge your vaflals to diftra&ion t 
 Gan ye, by venting fruitlefs rage, 
 
 Feel his tranfcendent fatisfa&ion, 
 Who clofcs life as he began, 
 Exifting but to aid the miferies of man. 
 
 When Socrates fought alms in vain, 
 
 Had fuch a friend adornM his flock, 
 No care had gall'd Afpafia's fwainf 
 
 About the purchafe of a cloak ; 
 His teacher's every wifh had been 
 Supply'd that inftant 'twas forefeen. 
 
 " John Jeflbp was fined at the Public Office, Bowflreet, in five 
 " pounds for being concerned with Newton, who was fined laft 
 " week in the fame fum for fliooting a cock pheafant. He could 
 " not pay, and was fent to the Correction Houfe for three months."' 
 Vide London Papers, November 1789. So much for ENGLISH 
 Liberty ! Query, What lofs would enfue to focietT-, if all the 
 wild-fowl in Europe were exterminated ? 
 
 f Afpafia was a woman of the town, and Socrates frequented 
 her houfc to learn the beauties of rhetoric from HER converfation.
 
 246- A CHARACTER* 
 
 Could I, in all its charms, exprefs f , 
 
 How bright a ray his bofom pierces, 
 Genius might envy my fuccefs, 
 
 And Candour vindicate my verfes. 
 The mite of virtue, in the world, 
 To Lethe ought not to be hurl'd 
 
 A benefaftor to mankind, 
 
 More frank, more tender, and more true, 
 Exhaufllefs Dryden never feign'd, 
 
 His darling Shakfpearc never drew ; 
 Nor Chatterton had begg'd in vain, 
 Nor Butler met, from him, vrith thanklefs told difdain.. 
 
 Thus having flightly fltetch'd his worth, 
 
 I've now the medal to reverfe, 
 Trump all his human frailties forth,. 
 
 All which a Bozzy would rehearfe j 
 And Cng the fad refolves of Fate, 
 That he fliould ne'er approach the glories of the great I 
 
 Firfl, then, he wants (we can't deny) 
 
 All the moil fplendid marks of wealth, 
 He watches, with an Alfred's eye 
 
 His time, his money, and his health j 
 T' oblige all mankind feems as willing^ 
 As though he were not worth a fhilliug. 
 
 Nay, worfe, he has not rear'd a find, 
 
 Nor gives the jockey crew protection } 
 Nor forces perjury to bud, 
 
 By carving votes for an election j 
 But rarely Speculates in cocks, 
 Or gallops eighty leagues to fee two butchers box, 
 
 He knows, moft dully, what he's iloni^ j 
 Nor builds, and plants, and feafts for ever ; 
 
 -Nor throws a farm-houfe into ruin, 
 To clear his profpeft to the river \
 
 ItEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN* 
 
 The charm of folitude can prize, 
 Nor from bimfelf affrighted flies : 
 
 And though his talents are refin'dV 
 "Without a grain of affe&ation, 
 
 And, had their mafter fo inclin'd, 
 
 Might long have reap'd our admiration^ 
 
 And near all-matchlefs Frederick's name 
 
 Have rank'd his literary fame j 
 
 Like him he prints no terfe o&avos, 
 To prove his tendernefs and taile j 
 
 Nor hires two hundred thoufand bravoes y 
 To lay a peaceful empire wafte. 
 
 Sages, and heroes, if ye can, 
 
 Make hafte to copy fuch a man. 
 
 And when he's gone where Phocion went r 
 That breafl companion warms no morc r 
 
 And crouds iheirfelfijh forrow vent 
 Who never fympathiz'd before, 
 
 Some happier mufe a right may claim y 
 
 To give Pofterity his name.. 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 or THE LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS OF 
 
 GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 THIS author was born at a village in the parifli of Kil- 
 lerne, and county of Dumbarton, about the beginning of 
 February 1506. The chief incidents of his life are re- 
 lated with modefl brevity, in a memoir written by faim- 
 felf, about two years before his death, and commonly 
 prefixed to his works. His fuperior genius buril through 
 the darkefl clouds of indigence and misfortune. In 
 every country where he fucceflively refided, his abi- 
 lities infpired men of letters with admiration. " Bu-
 
 248 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN". 
 
 " chananum omnibus antepono*," was the expreffion r> 
 Qiieen Elizabeth. " Georgius Buchananus," fays DC 
 Thou, " vir in genii felicitate, et fcribendi facultate, 
 fcl * quod ejus fcripta ad omnem eternitatem vi&ura vel 
 44 fatente invidia teftantur, noftra state incomparabi- 
 44 lis." 44 For an happy genius, and the talent of com- 
 4i pofltion, no writer of our age has been comparable to 
 41 George Buchanan. Of this we have full evidence from his 
 4A works, which, evenby the confeflion of envy, (hall endure 
 " to all eternity." 44 Sed quo te," fays Gilbert Gray, 
 " piaculo ta ceam Buchanane ? aut quo prcecohio cele- 
 u brem unicum mufarum hujus aevi decus ?" 4fe With what 
 44 blame mould I pafs in Clence over thee, O Buchanan ! 
 4 Vor in what flyle of panegyric fliall I celebrate the only 
 " ornament of the mufes in our age." t4 Sane aurea, 1 ' 
 fays Quenftedt, 44 ejus et cum omnibus prifcis com- 
 i " paranda poemata, jure merito omnium verfantur ma- 
 44 nu." " His verfes are defervedly in the hands of eve- 
 " ry one. They are indeed ineftimable, and may be com- 
 44 pared with the bed poems of antiquity." In the Scali- 
 geranawc are told, that 44 ~Buchananus unus efl in totaEu- 
 44 ropa omnes poft fe relinquens in Latina Poefi." 44 Bu- 
 44 chanan alone has left all Europe behind him in Latin'po- 
 44 etry." In a ftiort poem infcribed to our author, Juliu* 
 Sealiger, one of the mofl able and mofl arrogant fcholars 
 of his age, compares himfelf to a magpie, and pronounces 
 Buchanan to be " Dcus Ihteratormn," " the God of the 
 " learned." He tells him that he had been born on the 
 fummit of Parnaffus, that he had been foftered in the 
 bofom of Calliope, and that, by her facred infpiration, he 
 had been deflined to bear away the praife of excellence 
 from every nation that cultivated the learning of Rome. 
 .Anurew Melvil, Theodore Beza, Jofeph ScalVger, Charles 
 Utenhovius, Adrian Turnebus, Archbifliop Spotifwoode, 
 and a multitude of other writers of different nations, have 
 celebrated our author, as an amiable man, an accomplifh- 
 
 " I prefer Buchanan to all." Walpolc's Catalogue of Royal 
 and Noble Authors, Vol. I. p. 30.
 
 ifEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 249 
 
 edfcholar, and aboye all, as spoet of unrivalled beauty. At- 
 teftationsof this nature in Englim, French, Greek, and La- 
 tin, have been laboriouflycoiJe&edbyRuddiman. They fill 
 thirty-two clofc printed quarto pages in Burman's elegant 
 edition ; and we are at the fame time tolfl that fuch quota- 
 tions might be extended to infinity. We have alfo a ca- 
 talogue of the different impreffions of his works, at Edin- 
 burgh, London, Paris, Amflerdam, Leyden, Frankfort, 
 Utrecht, Leipfic, Lyons, Geneva, and other cities on 
 the continent, preceding th year 1715; and either 1 de- 
 tached portions, or entire editions, of his works had been 
 publifhed in his original language an hundred and twenty 
 times, befldes numerous translations. " Vivit adhuc," 
 fays Thomas Smeton, " et utinam diu vivat, orbis terra- 
 u rum, non Scotiz tantum decus Georgius Buchananus." 
 *' There yet lives, and long may he continue to live, 
 " George Buchanan, the glory, not of Scotland only, but 
 u of the world." In a letter to De Thou, Grotius diftin- 
 guiflics as the father of modern dramatic poetry, u Scotiae 
 " illud numen," " that divinity of Scotland. 1 '* Our au- 
 thor was of a carelefs, frank, independent difpofition ; 
 and as poverty, or rather a negleft of money, did not per- 
 mit him to purchafe applaufe, nor his temper to court it, 
 we may prefume that the veneration of his cotemporarie* 
 was perfectly Cncere. Their fentiments have been amply 
 ratified by pofterity. " Poetarum fui feculi facile prin- 
 ;t cepsf," has been theencomiumbeftowedupon himfortwo 
 centuries by the general confent of Europe. " In his im- 
 u mortal poems," fays Bifhop Burnet, ct he Qiews fo well 
 " how he could imitate all the Roman poets, in their fe- 
 " veral ways of writing, that he who compares them will 
 * c be often tempted to prefer the copy to the original. 
 u There is a beauty and life, an exadlnefs, as well as a 
 " liberty, that cannot be imitated, and fcarce enough 
 14 commended. His ftyle is fo natural and nervous, and 
 
 " Tibi hsec mittuntur, qui poft Scotiae illud numen rcdmvar* 
 " nobis reduxifti Tragoediam." 
 
 f " Unqueflionably the firft poet of his age."
 
 25 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAST. 
 
 " his reflexions are fo judicious, that he is juflly reckon* 
 u ed the greatefl and befl of our modern authors."* His 
 panegyrifts of the prefent day are numerous and fan- 
 guine. Dr. Bcattie, in his mofl ingenious eflay on the uti- 
 lity of claffical learning, obferves, that " the Latin poems 
 " of Buchanan|have been long and univerfally known and 
 " admired." " He was," fays one of his editors, " fo 
 " great a mafter of the elegance of the Latin language, 
 <c that he became an author, rather than an imitator, fo 
 ** that the blood of every Roman poet fcems to have flow- 
 " ed in his veinsf*" u The happy genius of Buchanan," 
 fays Dr. Robertfon, " equally formed to excel in profa 
 " and in rerfe; more various, more original, and mor 
 " elegant, than that of almoft any other modern who 
 " writes in Latin, reflects, with regard to this particular, 
 " the greateft luflre on his country." Of citing fuch 
 attentions there would be no end. *' The name of 
 " Buchanan," fays the late Dr. Samuel Johnfon, " ha* 
 u as fair a claim to immortality as can be conferred 
 " by modern Latinity, and perhaps a fairer than the 
 *' inftability of vernacular languages admits." " Hiz 
 "Pfalms," fays Dr. Stuart, " in which he has en> 
 lt ployed fo many kinds of verfe, difplay admirably the 
 " extent and univerfality of his mind, the quicknefs and 
 u abundance of his fancy, and the power and acutenefs 
 " of his judgment-" 4t Nullum ego," fays Burman, u fi 
 " ab anti quioribus decefleris, celebrari unquam audivi 
 * l aut legi, qui cum Buchanano contendere poflit." " If 
 u you except the ancients, I have never heard or read of 
 
 Vide, Hiftory of Reformation, Vol. I. Book 3d. and a pafto. 
 ral charge by the fame author. The above are a few detached 
 fentences. The original paflagei were too prolix for an entire 
 infertion. 
 
 f " Tantu* erat Buchananus Latinitatis et elegamis artifex, 
 *' ut potius auftor quam imitator, utque mnium poetarum fan- 
 ' guis ejus venam compleiTe videatur." Vide, Preface to an 
 edition of hi verfion of the Pfalms, printed at Edinburgh, isi
 
 MEMOIRS OF OEOROE BUCHANAN. ajt 
 
 u any celebrated writer, who could rival Buchanan." A 
 fhort review of his perfonal hiftory feemsnecefiary tornake 
 an account of his writings intelligible. 
 
 When a boy, he was fent to fhidy at the univerfity of 
 Paris. On his return to Scotland, he inlifled as a com- 
 mon foldier in the French troops then in this country. 
 When about eighteen, he became conne&ed with John 
 Major the hiftorian, and accompanied him in a journey to 
 Paris. Where he obtained employment as a teacher in the 
 college of St. Barbe. He next engaged himfelf with the 
 Earl of Caffilis, and with him he returned a fecond time 
 to Scotland, after an abfence of about ten years. He then 
 undertook the education of one of the natural fons of 
 James V. * In 1539, a quarrel with the Francifcans drove 
 him out of the kingdom. Pafling through England, he 
 fettled as a public teacher at Bourdeaux. Here his fame 
 as a poet became diftinguiflied; and his four tragedies 
 were acled with applaufc. Indeed, as he died when Shake- 
 fpeare was but eighteen, we may believe the aflertion of 
 Grotius, that he was the firft dramatic writer of his day, 
 After a refidence of three years at Bourdeaux, he feems 
 to have returned to Paris. Ju 1547, on an invitation from 
 John III. of Portugal, he went into that kingdom. He 
 was, not long after, caft into the inquifltion, where he lay 
 confined for about eighteen months. At laft he obtained 
 leave to embark for England, where he landed in 1551. 
 In January 1553, he failed for France. In 1 554, he accom- 
 
 It has been faid a thoufand timei orer, that he was ap- 
 pointed by James V. preceptor to his fan, who wat afterwards 
 Earl of Murray. Upon reading the dedication of the Francifcan, 
 which is infcribed to the Earl of Murray, it will be obferved, 
 that this baftard fon, as Buchanan calls him, whoever he was, 
 could not have been the perfon to whom this dedication was a.d 
 drefled. That pupil is twice mentioned, and always in the third 
 perfon ; and Mr. Man, upon the authority of Leflie, informs u, 
 that he was another James Stuart, who died in 1558. Vide 
 Man's Cenfure and Examination, &c. p. 349. n book of which 
 I (hall tak,e farther notice in another place.
 
 2J4 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 panied into Italy Marftial Briflac, by whom he was receiv- 
 ed* into an intimate friendfhip. In his family he continu- 
 ed till 1560. In 1563, he returned to Scotland. In 1565, he 
 again vifited France, for the purpofe of fuperintending the 
 printing of his verfion of the Pfalms. This voyage feems 
 to have terminated his excurfions to the continent. 
 
 He was made Principal of St. Leonard's college, in 
 the univerfity of St. Andrew's ; an office which he^ifter- 
 wards found it neceflary to refign, on being appointed 
 preceptor to James VI. In 1567, he was elected Mode- 
 rator of the General Affembly of the Church of Scotland. 
 He was likewife promotedlto be Director of the Chancery, 
 a member of the Privy Council, and keeper of the Privy 
 Seal. His Hiflory of Scotland was printed juft before his 
 death, which happened at Edinburgh, on the a8th day of 
 September 1582. He was buried in the church-yard of 
 the Grayfriars. " Foreign nations," fays Dr. Stuart, 
 tc as well as his own countrymen, were filled with the 
 > c utmoft admiration of the genius of Buchanan ;" yet his 
 grave has never been diftinguifhed by a tomb-ftone. 
 
 Before I proceed to any critical remarks on his writings, 
 it feems proper to take fome notice of the reproaches 
 which have been caft upon his memory. Dr. Stuart, 
 in hii late Hiftory of Qgeen Mary, informs us, that 
 '* She invited Buchanan from France to Scotland, with 
 u a view that he mould take the charge of the education 
 * of her fon ; and till Jaaies fhould be cf a proper age to 
 *' receive inftruclion, fhe appointed him to be chief maf- 
 " ter in St. Leonard's college, in the univerfity of St. An- 
 " drew's. Her generofity did not flop here. She granted 
 " him a yearly penfion of five hundred pounds *, payable 
 " out of the Abbey of Corfragwell. The commiffion for 
 " this gift is ftill extant, and is dated upon the gth day 
 44 of Oaober 1564." Dr. Stuart infers, in the harfheii 
 terms, that Buchanan was a monfter of ingratitude. 
 
 ' Our Author fliould have added S<ott,
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. IJJi 
 
 Our author returned to Scotland, in the year one thou- 
 fand five hundred and jxty-tbree*. His Francifcan was 
 publiflied by himfelf in June one thoufand five hundred 
 andjixty-four, as appears from a dedication to the Earl of 
 Murray, dated at St. Andrew's. The Queea was not mar- 
 ried till agth July, one thoufand five hundred andJixty-JlvCj 
 and James, tbe intended PUPIL was born upon the nine- 
 teenth of June one thoufand five hundred and Jlxty-Jtx. 
 Hence it would feem to follow, that the Queen of Scotland 
 provided a preceptor for her fon, about three years before 
 his birth; and at leaft eighteen months before her marriage 
 with his father. 
 
 Such are the abfurdities implied in the accufation asf 
 jftated by Dr. Stuart. His information, as he himfelf has 
 told us, is wholly derived from Ruddiman; whofe tremu- 
 lous conjecture of a royal invitation from France, is found- 
 ed on a typographical error. Buchanan, in his own ac- 
 count of his life, fays, that in the year one thoufand five 
 hundred andjixty~ji<ve, he was appointed preceptor, not 
 to a child unborn, but to 44 Jacobum Sextum Scotorum 
 44 regcm." This expreflion proves inconteflibly that 
 44 Sexagefimo quintoj* was a miftake of the pen, or 
 of the prefs. Ruddiman himfelf ftartled at tlie wild in- 
 confiflency of this date, propofes to read 44 Sexagefimo 
 44 ncno," and this his fecond conjecture is confirmed by 
 an act of the Privy Council paft in 1569, and which he 
 has inferted at full length. In this acl there is no refer- 
 ence to Buchanan, as having been formerly cbofen precep- 
 tor to the prince. The Privy Council, merely with a re- 
 fpedful notice of his abilities, feledl him for the execu- 
 tion of thatofficef. The pretended invitation from France 
 by Mary vanifhes into fmoke. Betides, Buchanan was a 
 
 " I have proved in the notes on his life, that he returned t 
 " his own country in 1563." Ruddiman's Anfwer to Logan, p. 70 
 
 t Dr. M'Kenzie, fays, that he \vas ele<fled on 2oth Auguft 1567, 
 by a meeting of the nobility at Edinburgh. But he is a loofe, 
 inaccurate writer. 
 
 Y
 
 254 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BVCHANAK. 
 
 heretic of the mofl detefted defcription, and certainly one 
 of the very laft perfons upon earth, whom the Queen 
 Would have ftifiercd as preceptor for her fon. 
 
 Ruddiman advances no evidence to prove that Mary 
 defired Buchanan to quit France, on account of a pupil 
 not yet exifling. It is true that our author was in France 
 in 1565, and the reafon of his voyage was undoubtedly to 
 print his verfion of the Pfalms, which was at that time com- 
 mitted to the prefs by Henry Stephens. But this acci- 
 dental event, has not the mofl diftant connexion with the 
 point in queftion. 
 
 The fecond charge is, that Mary appointed Buchanan 
 to be chief mafter in St. Leonard's college. In the year 
 1753, Mr. James Man, of Aberdeen, published an acute 
 and learned examination of Mr. Ruddiman's conduft, as 
 editor of Buchanan. In that book, he has quoted the ori- 
 ginal Latin words, of the charter erecting St. Leonard's 
 college, and which is dated the aoth of Augufl 1512. The 
 paflage, too prolix for iofertion here, ftipulates, in the mofl 
 exprefs terms, that the principal of that college mall be 
 *' Per Priorem ejufdem, perpetuis futuris temporibus, 
 " ELIGI et NOMINARI*." Before the Reformation in Scot- 
 land, the Earl of Murray had been appointed prior of St. 
 Andrew's; a circumftance, which may ferve to explain 
 the fource of Buchanan's preferment. On his arrival in 
 Scotland, his chief refidence, as Ruddiman tells us, was at 
 St. Andrew's, in the family of his patron Murray; "Apud 
 " patronum fuum Moraviae comitem." Whether his pa- 
 tron had nominally refigned the title of prior, is a quef- 
 tion of little confequence. Mr. Man affirms that he 
 Hill held that office, and whether he did or not, we may 
 
 Cenfure and Examination, &c. p. 94. To this attack, Mr. 
 Ruddiman replied, in a large and angry volume. As to the point 
 mentioned in the text, he only obferves that, " this has been 
 *' fully con/ldered in my anfwer to Mr. Love's pamphlet." Anti- 
 crifis, or a DifcufHon, tsV. printed at Edinburgh in 1754, p. 14.. 
 So flight a defence feems to imply a confcioufnefs of error.
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. ZJJT 
 
 be certain, that he continued to exercife the full extent 
 of power and importance annexed to it. To enjoy church 
 revenues under a borrowed name, was, in that age, a fre- 
 quent practice. 
 
 As to the penfion of five hundred pounds Scots, it rnufl 
 be traced by candour, to the fame fource. When Mary 
 firfl landed in this country, me found it neceflary to tem- 
 porife with the leaders of Reformation. In particular, (he 
 was under the direclion of the Earl of Murray. But even 
 independent of this evidence on the fubject, it is certain 
 that to Mary, a zealous Catholic, Buchanan muft at all 
 times have been an object of horror. At an early period 
 of life, he had fled from his country, for compofing an 
 outrageous fatire againft the Church of Rome. Returning 
 in triumph, he began his carreer by publifhing, with the 
 mofl hoflile contempt of his fovereign, that very fatire 
 the fource of all his former fufferings. About the fame 
 time*, he fent into the world, his FSATRES FRATERRIMI, a 
 mifcellany flill more mocking to the ears of a Catholic. 
 The flighteft reflection muft convince us, that the fuper- 
 flitious Mary, never would have preferred an apoftle of re- 
 bellion and blafphemy, as a preceptor, a profeflbr, and a 
 penfioner. Yet the charge of perfonal ingratitude to his 
 fovereign, has been inceflantly chanted over, by a thou- 
 fand bookmakers. 
 
 In the note, already quoted, Dr. Stuart objects to the 
 terms of the oath fworn by the Scotch Commiffioners at 
 York, when attefting the authenticity of Mary's letters to 
 Bothwell. He fays, that as they did not pretend to have 
 been prefent, when Mary wrote thefe letters, " and as 
 " there was a poflibility of counterfeiting very exactly her 
 " hand writing, they could not be perfectly fure, that 
 M they were genuine ; and to fwear mofl directly, of con- 
 " fequence, that they were fo, was infinitely improper, e- 
 u ven on the fuppofition, that the letters are real and au- 
 " thentic." To this objection, it is fufficient to anfwer, 
 
 " Eodcm fere tcmpore." Euddiman. 
 
 Yij
 
 256 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 that fuch oaths are adminiftered every day in our courts 
 of juflice. The evidence arifing Ex comparatione literarum 
 is known to every mortal. To this wanton charge of per- 
 jury, Dr. Stuart fubjoins that of forgery. He affirms that 
 it is more than probable thefe letters were forged by Bu- 
 chanan himfelf. Mr. Whitaker, on the other hand afferts, 
 that they were the fole contrivance of Maitland of Le- 
 thington. Indeed, the grofs blunders in the tranflations 
 are to me a fufficient proof that they were not written by 
 Buchanan, the firft fcholar of a learned age. Dr. Stuart 
 adds, " For thefe notices I am indebted to my much e- 
 " fteemed relation, Mr. Thomas Ruddiman, whofe writ- 
 *' ings fupport the literary glory of his country." To 
 complete this part of my taflc, it is neceflary to beftow 
 fome farther notice on the condudl of Ruddiman, as an c- 
 ditor of Buchanan. 
 
 No queftion was ever more impertinent or ufelefs than 
 that on which he has fpent fo much time, and from which 
 he affumes fo much merit refpe&ing the period when Bu- 
 chanan began to compofe his hiftory and the order in 
 ybicb the books were written. He has actually fpent fe- 
 deral pages * to prove that Buchanan wrote this hiftory 
 with a view to the Earl of Murray's obtaining the crown. 
 Murray was fhot on the 23d. of January 1570, and the 
 hiftory was not published till about thirteen years after, 
 in September fifteen hundred and eighty-two. He would 
 likewife perfwade us that the dialogue De jfwre Regni 
 was fabricated for the fame purpofe. Yet he cannot 
 deny that this very treatife was not printed till the year 
 one thoufand five hundred SLndJeventy-nine. No human 
 character could ftand againft fuch torture. There ij not 
 a fpark of proof that Murray intended to feize upon the 
 crown of Scotland. The charge againft Buchanan may 
 be illuftrated by a fhort fimilie. A. B. tells his neigh- 
 bours that he has a pair of loaded piftols. On this esyi- 
 e, he is tried and hanged, becaufe his friend C. D. it 
 
 Anfwer to Logan, p. 55, 76. et
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 2J7 
 
 fiifpe&ed of having propofed to commit a robber.y ten 
 years ago. 
 
 Another ftory, fully as aWurd, is mentioned by Rud- 
 diman ; that Buchanan forbore to continue his hiftory 
 through Morton's regency, becaufe he hated Morton. It 
 was with the utmoft difficulty that Buchanan's infirmities 
 permitted him to bring his work fo far down as he did, 
 and he actually expired about the time when the laft meet 
 was printed *. This is certainly a fufficient anfvver. 
 There can be no worfe mark of a writer than when he at- 
 tempts to make u reader believe, what he does not believe 
 bimfelf. Mr. Ruddiman is fometimes in this fituation. 
 Having noticed that Buchanan's hiftory was printed when 
 he was on his death-bed, and that it contains the feverefl 
 reflexions on Queen Mary, he would yet wifh us to be- 
 lieve that the writer on that very death-bed repented of 
 his animofity to Mary. Dr. Stuart, who was more than 
 once, a fervile copyifl, and a petulant declaimer, obferves, 
 44 that the repentance of Buchanan has been affirmed 
 u ivltb great probability" This is the mere echo of Rud- 
 diman. After reading over what has been faid by Rud- 
 diman and Whitaker, I have no difficulty in affirming 
 that their evidence is altogether trifling. It is contradic- 
 ted by direct perfonal teftimony t, and is in itfelf abiurd 
 and impoffible. Nothing but a keen appetite for calum- 
 ny, or the mere infanity of Jacobitifm, could have indu- 
 ced Ruddiman to prefix his name to fuch an old woman's 
 tale J. 
 
 * Vide Man's Examination, &c. p. 54. 
 
 f Mr. James Melvile, apud Man, p. 51, et fe<j. 
 
 | It has of late become fafhionaWe to fpeak of Ruddiman in 
 terms of the higheft refpe&. Some of his co-temporaries muff 
 have entertained a very different opinion ; for in the preface to 
 his " Anticrifis," he tells us, that Mr. Logan, one of the minif- 
 ters of Edinburgh, had wrote no lefs than fix different treatifes 
 againft him ; befides which, he refers to a crowd of fimilar pu- 
 blications. Of his volume againft Mr. Logan, a great part con,* 
 t Yiij
 
 25# STRMonis OF GEORGE BUCHANAST. 
 
 The accufations againft Buchanan may be reduced to 
 four head?, ingratitude, perjury, forgery, and rebellion. 
 As to the firft, I have proved that it is entirely unfupport- 
 ed ; as to the fecond, the ground on which it is advanced 
 by Dr. Stuart is ridiculous! as to the third, it is contradic- 
 ted by Mr. Whitaker, who had made far deeper refearches 
 in the controverfy than Dr. Stuart ; and as to the fourth, 
 it amounts to sothing, fince the rebels were victorious) 
 vhich ends the queftion. 
 
 Among other writers of inferior note, who have attack- 
 ed our author's character, I have been advifed to examine 
 * book publifhed in 1 705, by David Grawfurd. After what 
 has been already faid, it feems to contain nothing which 
 merits a farther anfwer. 
 
 In peru/Ing the works of Buchanan, the firft circum- 
 fiance which flrikes us, is, his uncommon fertility. Though 
 the greater part of his life was fpent in the tafk of teactu 
 ing, a profeffion of which he bitterly complains, and though 
 the hiftory of Scotland, in which he has difplayed fuch a 
 profusion of excellence, might have exhaufted a compre- 
 henfive mind, he has yet found leifure to wr'te upwards 
 of twenty thoufand Latin verfes, which are equal to three 
 times the extent of the works of Horace. Of thefe verfes, 
 about one thircf are occupied in his tranflation of the 
 Pfalms, where he has wandered into twenty-nine differ- 
 ent kinds of metre. In the variety of his numbers, there- 
 fore, he leaves every poet, ancient and modern, at an im- 
 menfe diftance; and as if the genius of Rome had not fuf- 
 ficiently extended the limits of her language, he has em- 
 ployed five different forts of verfe, which are faid never 
 
 fift* of appeals to the Old Teftament in behalf of the Jus Divi- 
 num, and on this topic it is remarkable, that he is conftantly in- 
 finuating what he does not chufe to aflert. James the Firft of 
 England, he mentions, as " This good King, this truly juft and 
 *' religious Prince," page 87. The rxecution of Charles the Firft 
 Turas " the moft difmal and wicked tragedy that ever was afted." 
 Ib. page no. Char ls. the Second, he ttrras that good King/^ 
 lb. page 1 18.
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN* 1^9 
 
 to have been attempted by any former writer. He is con- 
 ftantly attentive to claffical dignity of charafler. Good 
 fenfe predominates in every fentence. He is not one of 
 thofe thoughtlefs compilers, in whom, to perufe twenty 
 pages of elegance, or wit, we muft wade through whole 
 volumes of bombaft, or buffoonery. We can never fay 
 Interdum bonus dormitat Bucbananus ; for in the whole 
 wildernefs of his poetry, there are not, I believe, ten lines 
 which his mofl judicious admirer couJd wifh to be forgot- 
 ten. I here fpeak of the intrinsic merit of the verfes, with- 
 out endeavouring to juftify on every occafion, either his 
 panegyric, or his cenfure. 
 
 As an herald of civil and religious liberty, our author 
 deferves an ample mare of the gratitude of nations. Never 
 did the " rights of man" meet with a more ardent parti- 
 fan, an advocate more acute, eloquent, philosophical, and 
 fublime*. The truly virtuous charaders of antiquity he 
 mentions with the veneration they deferve.- But judgment 
 never drops the reins to fancy. From his eye the fplen- 
 dour of conqueft could not hide its deformity ; and when 
 there fell in his way a Czfar, an Alexander, a Xerxes, or 
 a Charles the Fifth, the moralifl fet no bound's to his fcorn 
 and deteftation. When, in 1552, the emperor was repulf- 
 ed, with the lofs of thirty thoufand men from the walls 
 of Metz,our author addreffed Henry the Second of France, 
 
 On this head the pubfic will liffen with refpeft to a writer 
 who has lately deferved and acquired their approbation. ' The 
 * firft man at the revival of letters, who united elegant learn- 
 '* ing to original and mafculme thought was Buchanan, and he 
 M too feems to have been the FIRST fcholar who caught from the 
 " ancients the noble flame of republican enthufiafm. Thispraife 
 " is merited by his neglected, though incomparable tra<ft, DC 
 " Jure Regni, in which the principles of popular politics, and 
 ' the maxims of a free government, are delivered with a pre* 
 M cifion, and enforced with an energy, which no former age had 
 ^ eijualkd, and no fucceeding has furpafled.'l 
 
 * Vkidjcijc Gallic*, ad. edit. g. &*}>
 
 jo MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAW. 
 
 i.i an ode, to which Horace cannot often produce a para* 
 lell. Where every ftanza is excellent, feledlion becomes 
 an office of delicacy. Having, with his ufual impetuofity, 
 reproached Charles as a monfter more hideous than the 
 Gorgon Sifters, or the Hydra, having placed in the moft 
 flriking point of view, his barbarity t his ambition, and 
 his power, he thus, in a tranfport of exultation, defcribe* 
 the anguifh of the defeated tyrant : 
 
 Tu bellicofas dux bone Gallic 
 Sperare promtam cun&a fuperbiam 
 Compefcuifti: tu dedifti 
 Indomito laqueos furori. 
 
 Quis vultus illi? qui dolor intimis 
 Arfit medullis? fpiritus impotens 
 Cum clauttra fpedtaret MofelJje 
 Et juvenura intrepidam coronam. 
 
 Sic unda rupes faevit in obvias, 
 Claufus caminis ignis inaefluat, 
 Hyrcana fie tigris cruento 
 Dente fuas furit in catenas. 
 
 In Engli/b tbus^ 
 ct Thou worthy leader of gallant France haft blafted 
 
 * that pride forward to hope for every fuccefs: Thou haft 
 44 fixed bounds to fury till now irreGftible. 
 
 u What were his looks ? What agonies, convulfed e- 
 " very nerve ? when his impotent haughtinefs beheld the 
 " ramparts of the Mofelle *, and her intrepid band of 
 " youth ? 
 
 " Thus rages a furge againft oppofing rocks ; thus fub- 
 *' terranean fire'ftruggles for a paflagc ; thus the Hyrca- 
 
 * nian tyger champs his chains with his bloody teeth." 
 No reader will expect that the beauties of fuch an ori- 
 
 * Metz Hands on the banks of that river. 
 2
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 2<Jfc 
 
 ginal can be transfufed into a profe tranflation ; but it is 
 better than feeble rhimes. 
 
 The poet proceeds to celebrate the gallantry of Biron 
 and the French garrifon, who, difdaining the protection of 
 walls, ruftied out, repulfed and difperfed the imperial 
 army. Their rout he compares to that of inferior prowl- 
 ers at the approach of the lion, and concludes by repro- 
 bating the defpicable cunning of Charles. 
 
 In the clofe of his ode on the capture of Calais by the 
 Duke of Guife, he has defcribed, with finking circumftan- 
 ces, the abandoned fituation of Qu_eenMary of England, 
 who, by her bigotry and ambition, had become defpifed 
 by foreign nations, anddetefted by her own fubje&s; and 
 though then in the family of Marlhall Briflac, a Roman 
 Catholic, he refers, with an excefs of indignation, to the 
 flames of Smithfield. This ode, which extends to an hun- 
 dred and eight lines, contains a variety of the fineft mo- 
 ral fentiments, and is diftinguifhed by a ftrain of the moft 
 rational and exalted piety. 
 
 In his poem on aftronomy alfo, he has difplayed his de- 
 teftation of conquerors and tyrants, in jufl and philofo- 
 phical verfes. Having exprefled his regret that the names 
 of the firfl difcoverers of that fcience had not been tranf- 
 mitted to poflerity, he proceeds thus, 
 
 At nos vidturis potius conimittere chartis, 
 Barbaricum Xerxis faflum juvat, armaque diri 
 Csfaris, et facia Emathii fcelerata tyranni: 
 At bene promeritos de vita hominumque falute 
 JCegligimus Lethes tetra fub noifle jacentes. 
 
 " But we choofe rather to celebrate the barbarous pride 
 " of Xerxes, the victories of the direful Czfar, or the 
 " execrable crimes of the Macedonian tyrant, while we 
 " fuffer the benefactors of mankind to lie under the dark- 
 w eft ftiades of Lethe." 
 
 Another prominent diflinc\ion in the literary character 
 of Buchanan was an averfion to Popery. His innate sib-
 
 a6a MEMOIBS or GECKSE BUCHANAN. 
 
 horrence of monks, and his irrefiftible impulfe to bran*, 
 them with infamy, produced fome of the principal mif- 
 fortunes of his long and a&ive life. The quarrel began 
 by his writing a fatire againft the Francifcans, while in 
 the family of the Earl of Caffilis. And being foon after 
 appointed preceptor to one of the fons of James the Fifth, 
 he, at the defire of that monarch, wrote fome other pieces 
 on the fame fubjeft. In one of thefe, which he calls ? 
 Palinode, a monk is brought forward, cooling his concu- 
 pifcence, in a fall of fnow, as the neareft nunnery was al 
 too far a diflance for the urgency of his occafions, and aj 
 he could not, in broad daylight, walk intoabawdy-houfe. 
 The female fpe&ators of this exploit, fhed tears at fuch 
 a mifapplication of the hoJy man's abilities, and the writ- 
 er ends with fome ludicrous comparifons, which decency 
 muft retain under the veil of a dead language. In ano- 
 ther piece, he mentions the rage of the monks at hi 
 verfes, and contrafts them with St. Jerome flogging hi: 
 own moulders, as a penance for the guilt of having reac 
 Cicero. As thefe attacks were too imperfect for the re- 
 venge of James, he undertook the memorable fatire in- 
 titled FRANCISCANUS; which is probably, fince the fixtl 
 Satire of Juvenal, the moft beautiful and complete work 
 of that nature which the world has ever feen. But with 
 judgment to difcover abilities, the worthlefs King had 
 neither juftice to reward, nor honour to protect them. 
 Corrupted by a bribe from Cardinal Beatoun, he confent- 
 cd to the murther of the young poet. The priefthood an- 
 ticipated the triumph of conducting him to the flake, and 
 their black annals were never flained with the blood of a 
 more illuflrious victim. But Buchanan was referved for 
 a different fcene of exertions and of fufferings. He broke 
 out of prifon and fled into England, where he addreffed 
 Cromwell, at that time Minifter to Henry the Eighth, 
 in a fhort but pathetic poem, defcribing the complication 
 of difaflers by which he was overwhelmed, tc Look not" 
 fays Buchanan, " with a harfh countenance, on the hum- 
 tl blc advances of a man svhofe whole foul is devoted to
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 6j 
 
 u your fcrvice, who, a vagrant, an exile, a beggar, ha* 
 " endured every misfortune which a perfidious world can 
 " infiift.' A favage hoft of inveterate enemies purfue 
 " him. The palace of his fovereign refounds with their 
 41 menaces. Over mountains buried in fnow, through 
 " vallies flooded with rain, I come like a fugitive to the 
 tc Athenian altar of mercy, and exhaufted by calamities, 
 *' cafl myfelf as a (applicant at your feet." Such entrea- 
 ties, enforced by the fweetnefs and majefty of Virgil'a 
 numbers, one would think fufficient to foften any heart 
 but that of a flatefman, a being diflinguimed in all ages, 
 for beholding with indifference the miferies of mankind. 
 He likewife infcribed to Henry himfelf an elegant copj 
 of verfes, which conclude with perhaps the fined portrait 
 of a great and good monarch that ever wa* imagined. 
 His applications were unfuccefsful, and the verfes re- 
 main a monument to the diftionour of the King and his 
 tninifter. This experience of treachery in one fovereign, 
 and of ungenerofity in another, may firft pofiibly have 
 infpired Buchanan with that difdain of royalty, and thofe 
 levelling republican principles which formed, as it were, 
 the eflence of his foul. 
 
 It is true that our author has produced many beautiful 
 panegyrics on fome of the mofl eminent fovereigns of his 
 time ; but thefe are to be regarded rather as the fports of 
 imagination, as the labours of convenience or neceffity, 
 than ,as the offspring of voluntary choice*. He feems to 
 have owed much of the happinefs of his life to the univer- 
 fal veneration excited by his abilities. No man, perhaps; 
 ever enjoyed a more numerous, illuflrious, and affedlion- 
 ate circle of correfpondents ; and their attachment mows, 
 thatjf he did not feel, he muflat leaft have exerted, in an 
 uncommon degree, the focial virtues. Indeed, almoft no 
 poet has equalled him in difplaying the fenfibilities of 
 
 We are indebted for the Ode on Alexander's Feaft to the 
 importunities of a Mufical Club. The Ode on the Siege of Metz 
 is mentioned bj tfce writer as a trifle obtained in the fame wa/.
 
 164 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHAXAH. 
 
 fHendfhip, of gratitude, and of love. As a fpecimen of 
 his talents in this way, the reader may perufe part of aa 
 ode addrefTed to a young lady. 
 
 Camilla, multo me mihi carior, 
 Aut (i quid ipfo eft me mihi carius, 
 
 Camilla, ^octorum parentum 
 
 Et patriz decus et voluptas : 
 
 Ki Gratiae te plus oculis ament, 
 Ki te Camoenae plus oculis ament, 
 
 Nex Gratias gratas, nee ipfas 
 
 Efle rear lepidas Camcenas. 
 
 Quae virgo nondum nubilis, artibus 
 Dodis Minervam, pedine Apollinem, 
 Cantu Camcenas et lepore 
 Vcl fuperes Charites, vel seques. 
 
 4t Camilla, much dearer to me than myfelf, or than 
 " whatever elfe is dearer to me than myfelf : Camilla, 
 44 the glory and delight of thy learned parents, and of thy 
 tt country ; 
 
 44 Unlefs the Graces love thee better than themfelves, 
 44 unlefs the Mufes love thee better than themfelves, 
 44 1 deny beauty to the Graces, or eloquence to the 
 44 Mufes. 
 
 44 What virgin befides thee has, at fuch tender years, 
 44 excelled in learning Minerva, in mufic Apollo and the 
 44 Mufes, and in wit equals or excells the Graces ?" 
 
 It is ufual to fay that we can diftinguifh an author by 
 the peculiarities of his ftyle, but this rule cannot apply 
 to the univerfal abilities of Buchanan. The beft idea 
 which can be conveyed of him to a mere Engliih reader 
 may be comprifed in five words, 44 Dryden always at his 
 beft." Indeed there is, in many points, a very fir iking re- 
 fcmblance, between thefe two poets. Both inherited from 
 nature, in an equal degree, a mo ft comprehcnfivc under-
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 265 
 
 ftanding, and a mofl fplendid fancy. In variety of num- 
 bers, and facility of metrical competition, they {land un- 
 rivalled in the refpedlive languages in which they wrote. 
 Of wit, that faculty, in whatever it confifts of exciting 
 laughter, both poflefTcd of an ample (hare ; yet their pro- 
 per element was the ferious and fublimc. The fmile of 
 Buchanan is the fmile of indignation ; and as Dryden'S 
 tafle was much lefs cultivated, his merriment fometirries 
 degenerates into groflhefs. For the flage both poffefled 
 abilities refpe&able, but moderate. They were by na- 
 ture, or by habit, better qualified for the dignity of de- 
 clamation than the vivacity of dialogue. Beth have ma- 
 ny pafTages truly pathetic, but tendernefs is not the pre- 
 dominant excellence of either. Both had fludied human 
 nature with clofe attention ; both abound with beautiful 
 portraits of perfonal character, and the mofl inflru&ive 
 maxims for the conduct f>f life. But the profound learn- 
 ing of Buchanan, his habits of equality and confidence 
 with men of rank, and his long refidence in many different 
 countries, afford him numerous advantages, in point of 
 force, variety, and correftnefs. From the friend of Af- 
 cham and Scaliger, from the preceptor of a prince, and 
 the prefident of a college, produ&ions more claflical 
 might juftly be demanded, than from the playwright of a 
 licentious flage, the tool of au ufurping prieflhood, and 
 the reluctant hireling of a bookfcllcr. Both writers were 
 long the poets of a court; both have left us an immenfe 
 number of fliort temporary pieces, defigned merely to 
 pleafe, entertain, or vex a few individuals, but forcing 
 thcmfelvcs on our lafling applaufe by the merit of com- 
 pofition. The Scottim poet, at leafl, can hardly be flig- 
 matifed as obfcene ; but both were ambitious of advan- 
 cing to the utraofl verge of decency. Both were by far 
 the fu-fl fatirifts of their refpedive periods. Both poflefs- 
 cd fuch inexhauflible talents for panegyric, and both 
 were poetical tranflators of fuch fupreme fkill, that in 
 either capacity they have hardly a Cngle rival in the 
 whole records of literature. But the operations of the 
 
 Z
 
 266 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 poet raufl always take an imprelfion from the manners of 
 his age, and the temper of the man. Dryden feems to 
 have been weak, indolent, and from levity almoft inca- 
 pable of principle or fincere attachment. He is therefore 
 often negligent, and whatever be his theme, he is in fre- 
 quent danger of relapfing into a jefl. On the contrary, 
 his predeceffor is grave, intrepid, impetuous, and impla- 
 cable. He never attacks by halves. His ridicule dark- 
 ens into rage. He combats not for conqueft, but extir- 
 pation. From the pontiff and emperor, to the pedagogue 
 and the monk, the vidlim of his derifion is infallibly held 
 forth not only as the dullefl, but the vilefl of mankind. 
 Every poffible feature of vice and folly feems anxious to 
 ftart from the canvafs. With the abrupt dexterity of a 
 veteran familiar to vi&ory, he at once clofes upon his 
 adverfiiry, tramples him, and tears him to pieces. O- 
 verwhclmed by a luminous burft of thought, the mind 
 bends under .the grafp of his eloquence, while veneration 
 and gratitude, for the artiil forbid us to queflion the juf- 
 tice of the liken efs. The dreadful annals of the fixteenth 
 century fupplied inceffant exercife for a mind glowing 
 with every fcntiment of hostility and defiance. Buchan- 
 an was not only more fleady in the exertion of his talents, 
 but more fortunate in the objects of his choice. For the 
 purpofes of a laureate, Henry the fecond of France, John 
 third of Portugal, the two rival queens of Britain, and 
 the memorable tyrant of the German Empire, were bet- 
 ter adapted than the pensioner Charles, or the Jefujt 
 James. The foibles of thePreibyterians prefent the mh]d 
 with no image parallel to the fcenes of impoflure and de- 
 bauchery fo copioufly defcribed in the Francifcan. Evea 
 Monmouth and Shaftefbury were but pigmies of fedition, 
 when compared with the ilupenduous atrocity of the houfe 
 of Guife. In his addrefs .to the Cardinal of Lorraine, 
 compofed after the maflacre of Paris, Buchanan bids him 
 furvey the price of his grandeur a nation of widows and 
 orphans a country covered with blood and afhes and
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 367 
 
 fternly aflures him that to fuch a prodigy of guilt, hell 
 muft be a definable refuge from the curfes of mankind. 
 u Yet even there," adds the poet, " you will be admit- 
 u ted with terror, and watched with anxiety, left & foul 
 u fo turbulent fhould fpread rebellion among the damn- 
 " ed." Thefe fallies offend not our feelings, for thej 
 confift with truth, but they would have been utterly in- 
 applicable to the heroes of Abfaloin and Achitophel. On 
 Ravillac or Felton neither Whig nor Tory would have 
 endured an encomium, but no reader can be much ofFend- 
 "ecl when Buchanan refers with gratitude to the blunder- 
 bufs ofPoltrot*. Dryden has marked as one of his fc- 
 ver'eft effufions the portrait of Zimri. His provocation 
 was an admirable burlefque on fome of his abfurd plays. 
 He charges Buckingham with no deep vice or. atrocious 
 crime. He is fatisfied by representing him as the moft 
 thoughtl efs, frivolous, and defpicable of mankind. With 
 what a contraft are we fometimes aftonifhed in Buchan- 
 an's " Mufeof Fire!" In what the writer calls an epitaph 
 on Hamilton Archbifhop of St. Andrew's, he begins by 
 jnforming us that our parent earth now breathes lighter 
 fince delivered from the burden of fuch an abominable 
 monfter ; that all the angels of darknefs have been fa- 
 tigued in preparing for his reception, and that every o- 
 ther department of perdition now ftands ftill, the whole 
 tortures of Tartarus being devoted to a fingle victim. 
 
 Unius in p&nas, dum totus rult Avernus. 
 After paufing with complacency on this charitable pro- 
 fpedl, he concludes by profefling his regret, that the Pri- 
 mate's carcafe had not been caft to the dogs. Hamilton 
 had been executed as an accomplice in the murder of the 
 Regent Murray, the friend and benefalor of the feroci- 
 ous fatirift. The fervile temper of Dryden, is univerfally 
 known, and in this part of the parallel Buchanan appears 
 
 * On the 24th February 1563, the Duke of Guife wai mortally 
 wounded at the fiege of Orleans, by John Poltrot, a French Pro- 
 tcftant. 
 
 Zij
 
 3^8 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 with iuperior advantage. The force of his mind was only 
 to be broken, by the ftroke that diflblved its mortal exift- 
 ence. At the age of feventy, when oppreffed by the gout 
 and flone, he published his tragedy of John the Baptift, 
 which is infcribed to his pupil with atone of firmncfs and 
 dignity worthy of his former fame. " If at any time," 
 fays Buchanan, u impelled by bad coun Tellers, or the li- 
 " centioufnefs of the kingdom, overcoming a virtuous 
 " education, you aft amifs, I intend this work as an evi- 
 4t de-nce to pofterity, that the fault lies not with your 
 44 preceptors,but with you, ncgledling to follow their pro- 
 " per admonitions." The treatife De Jure Regnl, is in- 
 fcribed to King James, in the fame independent and man- 
 ly ftyle. 
 
 In the fublime of Engtifh lyric poetry, Dryden has no 
 rival, and in the crowd of modern Latin poets, the fame 
 honourable diftinftion may be claimed for our country- 
 man. It will be difficult to produce an ode, which can be 
 compared with thofe on the {leges of Metz, of Verceil, 
 and of Calais, with that on the Kalends of May, with an- 
 ^ other on the conduct of the Portuguefe in Brafil, or \vi.h 
 thofe three infcribed to Marfhall Briflac and his lady, to 
 the Chancellor of France, and to Queen Elizabeth of Eng- 
 land*. Dryden wrote merely for money, to gratify his 
 own psffions, or~thofe of his contemporaries. His tafte 
 had been early corrupted by the conceits of Donne and 
 Cowley, and it was the fummit of his ambition to pleafe 
 the audience of apiay-houfe, or the concubine cf a prince. 
 Buchanan took his flight from higher ground. The great- 
 er part of his life was fpent, not behind the curtain of a 
 theatre, but in the retirement of a college. He held the 
 ancients ever in his eye. On every occafion, however trif- 
 ling, he feems to have been mindful of fame and pofteri- 
 ty; nor did his meal depend on the caprice of a purfe- 
 
 * If the reader has an opportunity of examining the endlefs 
 volumes of Italian verfe, he will difcoTer, in this particular, the 
 prodigious fuper iority of our Author.
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 269 
 
 proud tradefman, capable of eflimating his volumes only 
 by their bulk. The diftindlion is eafily difcernible. Dry- 
 den is ever difturbing our tranquillity with a detail of his 
 talents and his fufferingsof perfecutcd virtue, and negleft- 
 ed merit. Buchanan, too proud for oftentation, never 
 mentions himfelf or his writings, but in a tone of the moil 
 guarded propriety. His mind was fuperior to vanity or 
 grimace, and yet more to that pitiful canting ftyle, which 
 pollutes the endlefs prefaces of the Englifli laureate. To 
 the Dunciad or Macflecknoe there is nothing correfpon- 
 dent in the fatires of Buchanan. Of contemporary poets 
 he often fpeaks, but always in the kindeft and moft liber- 
 al terms. Confcious, perhaps, that he was far above a ri- 
 val, he celebrates with a profufion of praife, a multitude 
 of writers whofe names are now only remembered by their 
 infertion in his verfes. If he ever had any poetical ene- 
 mies, the lafl traces of their exiftence appear to have been 
 long fince obliterated, for he never raifed them into an- 
 tagonifts by condefcending to revile them. This delica- 
 cy, which marks fueh a manly fuperiority to the petulance 
 of fome modern poets, deferves the higher praife, as we 
 have feen that his paifions were violent, his courage in- 
 flexible, and as he has left behind him full evidence that 
 on every other topic from the civil wars of a kingdom, to 
 the brawls of a bagnio, he was prepared and prompt for 
 battle. 
 
 To write a regular criticifm on the poetical works of 
 Buchanan, or to give even but a faint idea of the wonder- 
 ful variety of their contents and beauties would require a 
 large volume. . The reader may be amufed by a mort ac- 
 count of each of the principal feftions, into which his ori- 
 ginal poems have ufually been divided. It feems unne- 
 cefiary to fpeak.here of his Pfalms, as they are in the 
 hands of every fchool-boy. 
 
 I. It has already been obferved, that, by the deCre of 
 James V. lie began a poem intitled Franc'tfcanus. After 
 an exile of twenty-four years, he returned to his native 
 country, u now," as he fays, u beyond the hopes of all 
 
 Zly
 
 27 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 41 men, happily delivered from the tyranny of mongers." 
 His fatire, left unfinifhed for fo great a lapfe of time, was 
 I ublifhed in the year i -764, with a dedication to his friend, 
 the well known Earl of Murray. Buchanan was now at 
 the age of fifty-eight; he had rambled over a great part 
 of Europe, had feen, and fuffered, and reflected much, 
 and he poffefled, in an ample degree, the proverbial fen- 
 fibility of a poet. We are therefore entitled to expect a 
 fuperior monument of his abilities and his vengeance. The 
 Francifcan will fatisfy our moft fanguine wimes. It ex- 
 tends to nine hundred and thirty-fix lines, and opens by 
 the author inquiring at an acquaintance, a Francifcan no- 
 viciate, what he means by this fudden grimace, and af- 
 fectation of fanctity iu his appearance. He adjures him, 
 in the moft folemn manner, to fpurn the trammels of vul- 
 jjar fuperftition, to diftruft the pomp of the hierarchy, fo 
 much admired by the maflers of mankind, and examine 
 Chriftianity by the facred light of reafon. He proceeds, 
 in a vein of irony, to tell him that he himfelf had once in- 
 dulged the fame fort of frenzy, but had been diverted from 
 it by the fage advice of his friend Eubulus. The author 
 next repeats his admonitions, in the form of a harangue, 
 from this imaginary preceptor, who goes on for a few fen- 
 tences in a calm, temperate ftyle, with an evident defign 
 to gain the confidence of the reader. But fuddenly, as if 
 impatient to repair the lofs of time, Eubulus, or rather 
 Buchanan, burfts cut in a torrent of reproach. A literal 
 tranflation of the poem would extend to the fize of a pam- 
 phlet. Every fentence abounds with the wit, eloquence, 
 and fublimity of Juvenal; the copioufnefs of fentiment, 
 the fluency of expreffion, and the ferocity of contempt 
 which diftinguifli the admirable, though neglected Ciau- 
 dian*. The Francifcans are exhibited, in every point of 
 
 Buchanan, with the tafte of a fcholar, mentions this great 
 author in the moft refpe&ful terms. Dryden rafhly and imper- 
 tinently cenfures him. In many reipe&s Claudian hat a ftrong 
 vefemblance to the two moderns. Indeed, though much inferior
 
 ViEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 271 
 
 view, as vultures tearing out the vitals of fociety. The 
 writer defcribes, at great length, their numberlefs arts of 
 impofing upon the mob, and efpecially upon the weaker 
 lex. He tells, what we know to be-true, that when a 
 wealthy penitent was at the point of death, it was their 
 practice to extort, under the terrors of eternal perdition, 
 an extravagant legacy to thtir convent ; and he affirms, 
 what is fufficiently credible, that by fuch exactions, many 
 families had been ruined. He enlarges upon their pride, 
 ignorance, dulnefs, envy, hypocrify, debauchery, and 
 felfifhnefs; their factious fpirit, treachery, cowardice,<ind 
 pcrfonal naftinefs: their fuperftition, loquacity, and im- 
 pudent affectation of taciturnity. He difplays. their pro- 
 grefs in the various fciences of fcandal, pimping, treafon, 
 rebellion, feducYion, cuckoldom, and fodomy. He repre- 
 fents the various hazards they run of being gelded, and 
 affirms that confeffion, purgatory, and tranfubftantiation 
 are abfurd impoftures. * 4 An afs," fays Buchanan, " though 
 44 you clothe him in Tyrian purple, continues to be flu- 
 41 pid, and a tyger to be favage. Magpies will always 
 " chatter, and vipers will always fling." His inference 
 is, that a Francifcan has an invincible propenfhy to every 
 human vice. Having in fhort, afferted their utter degra- 
 'dation below the reft of the fpecies, and having diverfifi- 
 ed his performance with fome ludicrous anecdotes, he 
 concludes by telling the noviciate, that, upon the expof- 
 tulations of Eubulus, he had renounced holy water, the 
 girdle, the cowl, and the fhaven crown, as ridiculous 
 marks of diflindlion, invented for the moft fordid and in- 
 famous purpofes. The whole work is worthy of Buchan- 
 an, the advocate and avenger of infulted truth ; and if 
 confidered merely as an animated and faithful pidlure, 
 
 to both, he approaches nearer to their general chara&er than 
 any fingle ancient poet. There is far left nonfenfe in his text 
 than we commonly imagine. Dryden has prefumed to condemn 
 him for his bad tafte, and has, at the fame time, left us fix vo- 
 lumes of plays which contain perhaps an hundred tolerable- page*.
 
 27* MEMOIRS OF GEOSGE BfCHANAX. 
 
 muft be highly curious and inflrucYive. As a fpecimen of 
 the fpirit of this poem, it may be proper to extract a few 
 lines, fubjoining, as ufual, a profe tranflation. After a 
 long detail of the various circumftances which multiplied 
 monaftic vermin, he proceeds thus : 
 
 44 Adjice przterea quos prsceps alea nudat, 
 
 Quos Venus enervat, quos et potatio pernox 
 
 Ejecit patriis laiibus, quos urget egeflas, 
 
 Et quibus haudquaquam res funt in amore fecundar, 
 
 Faftofzque inopes exclufit limen amicse, 
 
 Quos fcelus infamat, tutor quos urget avarus, 
 
 Hue, velut ad tutum cun&is eft- curfus afylum. 
 
 Hoc procerum e numero crefcit generofa propago 
 
 Funigeri gregis : hi patres quibus ille fuperbit 
 
 Ordo facer, feges hzc orbis moderatur habenas, 
 
 Quos metus, ira, furor, mens tarda, ignavia, crimen, 
 
 Ambitio, res adverfz, faflidia vits, 
 
 Durus amor, durus pater, implacata noverca, 
 
 Et mendax virtutis amor, collegit in vinum. 
 
 44 Namque velut quondam cum res adverfa premebat 
 Ad laqueurn, ad preccps, ad toxica, flumina, pontes, 
 Atque truces gladios, caligantefque feneftras, 
 Curfus erat, duram cupienti evadere fortem: 
 Sic modo cum fceleris pudor, aut formido feveri 
 Judicis, aut gravior cunclis infamia pcenis 
 Urget, ad hunc fcopulum Francifci in fyrmate fune 
 Cingimur, et tanquam pariter cum vertice radi 
 Mens etiam fcelerata queat : de facrilegis et 
 De parricidis de furibus, atque cinasdis, 
 Nos facial cceli fubitos rafura colonos." 
 
 u Add, befldes thofe whom dice have hurled into ruin, 
 14 whom venery has enfeebled, or whom midnight ca- 
 u roufalshave driven from the inheritance of their fathers; 
 44 thofe %vhom downright beggary fweeps beibre it; thofe 
 " difippointed in love, and againft whom, for want of
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 273 
 
 " money, an infolent miftrefs bolts he'r door ; thofe be- 
 4t come infamous by their crimes ; and thofe who dread 
 44 their punifhment. Here alfo there is a fafe refuge for 
 " boys robbed by the rapacity of their guardians. From 
 44 thefe worthy tribes are embodied the noble band of 
 44 Francifcans. Thefe are the fathers of whom this fac- 
 " red order is fo proud. This is the generatioa that 
 " fleers the helm of the world ; mifcreants whom rage, 
 44 madnefs, and terror, dulnefs, lazmefs, and guilt, am- 
 44 bition, poverty, and defpair, difaftrous love, a fullen 
 u father, an implacable ftepmother, and a farcical pre- 
 44 tence of godlinefs have confounded together. 
 
 u In former days a wretch diftracled. by misfortunes had 
 ." recourfe to a halter, a precipice, a dagger, or a dofe of 
 " poifon ; or rufhed into a river, or leaped from a bridge > 
 " or a high window, that he might avoid the mock of ad- 
 44 verfity; but now, when the pangs of confcience, or fear 
 46 of a fevere judge, or infamy more terrible than every 
 44 other punifhment purfues a criminal, he binds a cord 
 44 about his middle, and takes refuge under the cowl of 
 4t St. Francis. And, as if to fhave the crown cou'! ftifle 
 44 the agonies of guilt, the razor fuddenly confecrates a 
 44 fwarnj of devotees, transformed from thieves, parri- 
 44 cidea, blafphemers, and catamites; 1 ' 
 
 This poem affords a fine counter-part to Dryden's Hind 
 and Panther; and how much more honourably would he 
 have been employed in turning it into Englifh verfe ? We 
 cannot wonder that Buchanan was perfecuted through life 
 by the blood-hounds of fuperftition, or that his memory 
 has been loaded with a whole library of reproaches, the 
 moft unjufl and incredible. I mall difmifs this article by 
 the infertion of three lines, which may be read with plea- 
 fure, but cannot be tranflated with decency. In feducing 
 a young girl, our author fays, . 
 
 44 Et pede tange pedem, dextram dextra, oribus ora : 
 41 Sic, diis, rides, fie molliter ofcula jungis, 
 44 Ofcula commit/as inter lu&antia lingua*.
 
 274 MEMOIRS or GEORSE 
 
 II. Another fe<ftion of his works is intitlcd Fratres Fra- 
 terrimi^ and confifts chiefly of fatires, in various kinds of 
 verfe, ap.ainfl the Catholic clergy cf every description, 
 from feveral of the popes, one of whom he compares to 
 Judas Ifcarict, down to the monks. The collection con- 
 eludes with fome of thofe juvenile efl'ays which the au- 
 thor jcompofed againfl the Francifcans at the defire of 
 the Scottifh monarch. Several Engliih poets have, at a 
 mature age, affefted to print pieces exadlly as they had 
 been written by thernfelves when at fchool. Milton, a- 
 mong others, has incumbered pofterity with this fort of 
 trumpery. In the works of Dryden we can eafily diflin- 
 guifh that his ftyle is gradually improving down to his 
 translation of Virgil ; and the noblefl ode in any Ian- 
 guage was itfelf the very lafl effort of his mufe. In the 
 text of Buchanan no fuch diflindion is difcernible. What 
 he had written in youth he either committed to the flames, 
 or improved into an equality with his later productions ; 
 and he is above the paltry vanity of telling us in the title 
 of a piece, that it was written at twelve or fixteen. The- 
 rcader has nothing to do with the age of an author, but with 
 the merit of his writings. From this digreffion, I re- 
 turn to the Fratres Fraterrimi. This mifcellany con- 
 fifts of thirty-fix articles, with a humorous dedication 
 to a man of letters. The worfliip of images and pictures, 
 and tranfubflantiation, the columns upon which Po- 
 pery refled, are here overwhelmed in a torrent of ridicule. 
 An ode infcribed to Queen Elizabeth, is written in the 
 highefl ftyle of Horace, and contains an eloquent fum- 
 inary of the preceding glories of her reign ; among which 
 the extirpation of monkery ftands foremoft. There is a 
 flrange dialogue between a painter and a baker, diiputing 
 which of them could make deities fooneft. The painter 
 found* his pretenfions on his profeffion of drawing the 
 piftures of the faintt, while the baker boafts that he can 
 make ten thoufand holy wafers in an hour. The mifcel- 
 lany begins with a poem at the expcnce of a rich abbot, 
 whofe life and conduft Buchanan contrails with that of
 
 M2MOIRS OF GHOKGE BUCHANAN. 2/5 
 
 the divine founder of Chriflianity. We have alfo a furi- 
 ous invective againfl the kingdom of Portugal, including 
 a warm panegyric on the climate and people of France. 
 One of the mo fl remarkable pieces in this collection is 
 an ode of eleven flanzas, upon the conduct of the Portu- 
 guefe in Brazil. He invokes the angel who deflroyed 
 Sodom and Gomorrah to hurl his thunderbolts againfl the 
 execrable invaders ; and concludes with an ardent wifh 
 that the earth may open and fwallow them, or the fire of 
 heaven blafl them. In a word, it is the finefl invective 
 againfl the tyranny of Europeans in America, that the 
 world has probably ever feen. From the peculiar bold- 
 nefs and rapidity of its flyle, a critic of learning would 
 perhaps venture to fay that part of this ode approaches 
 nearcfl of all poetry to the martial enthufiafm of Tyrtseus, 
 Every line feems to flafli from the heart of the writer. 
 There is, there can be nothing more awfully fublime. 
 
 III. The next fection is intitled Elegiarum Liber, and 
 confifls of nine different articles. The firfl of thefe contains 
 nn hundred and ten lines, and defcribcs the miferable 
 fituation of the teachers of literature at Paris. It is pro- 
 bable that at this time Buchanan was himfelf an under- 
 profefTor in the univerfity; for he fpeaks with much af- 
 perity of the profeffors, and complains of the harmnefs of 
 their difcipline in the mofl pointed terms. He obferves 
 that the plowman, and even the flave who works in fet- 
 ters, enjoy at night an agreeable flumber ; that the failor 
 fleeps in the midfl of the ocean ; in fhort, that all nature 
 is at reft, excepting the profeffors and fludents in the uni- 
 verfity of Paris. He concludes with a frlemn peroration 
 againfl Apollo, the Mufes, and the beggarly profeffion of 
 learning ; and protefls that Calliope would not have re- 
 mained a maid till this time if me had not been pennylefs. 
 The fecond elegy is in a very different flyle, it is written 
 on the Kalends of May, and exhibits one of the finefl 
 fcenes of rural and pafloral defcription that can poffibly 
 be imagined : It extends to an hundred and forty-five lines. 
 The third elegy is a flrange compolition. It is infcribed
 
 276 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 to one of the fenators of Bourdeaux, and ought to have 
 been intitled, A mcdefl Defence of Fornication. How 
 any man in the chara&er of a public teacher, ventured to 
 publifh fuch a performance, it is not very eafy to conceive ; 
 yet we muft remember that the manners of that age were 
 much lefs refined than ours. There is, indeed, nothing 
 in the poem pofitively indecent ; but there is fo much 
 more underftood than expreffcd, that we can hardly be- 
 lieve Buchanan expefted its perufal would invigorate the 
 chaftity of a young ftudent. In this very piece, how- 
 ever, he declaims, in the feverefl flyle, againft foatchelors, 
 and defcribes, with the moft interefling eloquence, the 
 tranfcendent felicity of poflefling a virtuous and dutiful 
 wife. The reader may perhaps imagine that fuch dif- 
 cordant materials cannot compofe a very coherent produc- 
 tion: but there was nothing which Buchanan feared to 
 attempt, and very little which he failed to perform. A 
 Ihort fpecimen may be agreeable to the reader; addreffing 
 the fenator, he fays, 
 
 ** Cum mare, cnm tellus homines populetur, et ignis, 
 
 Tot pereant morbo, tot fera bella necent ; 
 Cumque hominum in pejus folertia callida Temper 
 
 Inveniat caufas in fua fata novas : 
 Tun' prohibere audes veneris commercia ? lenas 
 
 Si tollis, veneris commoda quanta vetas ? 
 Tun' prohibere audes veneris commereia ? fola 
 
 Humanum poterant qua: reparare genus ?" 
 
 * 4 When land, and water, and fire, combine to deflroy 
 " mankind ; when fo many perim by difeafe, and fo ma- 
 " ny are butchered by barbarous war ; when human in- 
 " vention, ever fertile in framing mifchief, is perpetually 
 " pointing out frefh paths to deftrudlion ; dareft thou to 
 " forbid the commerce of love? By the expulfion of con- 
 44 cubines how many of the enjoyments of love are de- 
 "vftroyed ? Darefl thou to prohibit the pleafures of love.
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 277 
 
 " the ungle refuge left us to repair the ravages of the fpe- 
 " cies ?" 
 
 The poet proceeds to remind him that mankind cannot 
 now be propagated like the Myrmidons from pifmires, or 
 from clay and flones, as in the days of Prometheus and 
 Pyrrha. 
 
 The fourth elegy is addreffcd to two of his literary 
 friends, and contains an account of his fufierings in 
 fevere illnefs. The fifth is infcribed to the Chancellor 
 of France, and is a petition in behalf of the fchool of Bour- 
 deaux. 
 
 The fixth, which confifts of fifty-four lines, is addreffed 
 to a lady on her recovery from ficknefs, and is, in point 
 of tendernefs, perhaps the mafter-piece of our author. It 
 is one of thofe happy productions which we can never tire 
 of reading. The feventh and eight elegies are of a very dif- 
 ferent nature; they are infcribed to a woman of pleafure, 
 on whom Buchanan difchargeshimfelf in a torrent of abuie. 
 The ninth elegy is in a fuperior flyle. 
 
 IV. The next part of the collection is intitled Silv<z, 
 and confifts of feven articles, all in hexameter verfe. 
 The firft is dated in 1539, anc ^ infcribed in the name of 
 the ftudents at Bourdeaux to the Emperor Charles V. 
 With great eloquence and dignity he touches on the prin- 
 cipal events in the reign of, Charles, and compares his 
 condefcenfion in vifiting Bourdeaux to that of Jupiter en- 
 tertained by the Ethiopians. The Emperor had not yet, 
 by the execution of fifty or an hundred thoufand of his 
 Proteftant fubjects in the Netherlands, forfeited all pre- 
 tence to the tendernefs or efteem of mankind *. The fe- 
 cond is infcribed to a friend, whofe abfence he regrets in 
 a ftrain of beautiful and pathetic poetry. The third is 
 
 This trifling circumftance has efcaped the comprcbenfive 
 and profound refearches of Dr. Robertfon. In the fcience of li- 
 terary mutilation, he perhaps is not inferior to any hiflorian 
 ancient or modern. The editor has been forced, for want of 
 room, to leave out of this volume a reriew of his Hiftory of A- 
 merica. 
 
 2 Aa
 
 278 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 
 
 intitled Dejiderium Lutetix. In this poem Buchanan 
 laments, in affecting language, his abfence from Paris, 
 which he reprefents under the character of a miflrefs, 
 \vhofe charms had for feven years inceflantly difturbed 
 his peace. He concludes with the flrongeft protections 
 of fidelity. 
 
 " Et prius zquoribus pifces et montibus umbras, 
 Et volucres dcerunt fylvis, et murmura ventis : 
 Quam mihi difcedentformofz Amaryllidis ignes: 
 Ilia mihi rudibus fuccendit pectora flammis, 
 Finiet ilia meos moriens morientis amores. 
 
 (c Sooner ftiall fifties be wanting to the fea, and the 
 " mountains ceafe to reflect their fhadows ; fooner mall 
 " birds leave their woods, and ftillnefs attend the tem- 
 ".peft, than my paffion for Amaryllis {hall defert me. 
 " She firfl kindled the flames of love in my breaft, and 
 " her death mall extinguifh them for ever." The next 
 article is an epithalamium on the marriage of Francis the 
 Second with Queen Mary. In this poem, fo different from 
 the drains of a modern laureate, the genius of Buchanan 
 fhines in all its glory. To give a proper idea of a per- 
 formance which extends to two hundred and eighty-feven 
 lines is here importable. The poet, after enlarging on 
 the felicity of the young couple, and the joy that their 
 union diffufed over both nations, proceeds to give them 
 a feries of advices for their conduct in the exalted flalicn 
 which they were deflined to fill. He begins with the 
 French monarch, and after a profufion of compliments, 
 proceeds in the moft elevated, language of poetry to re- 
 mind him of the honours and advantages he derived from 
 a confort fo illuftrious as the Queen of Scotland. He ex- 
 patiates on the ancient independence of his country, and 
 the valour of its inhabitants. Of this paflage, which has 
 been often quoted, one need only fay, that it has hardly 
 ever been excelled, even by our author himfelf : a fe\r
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 279 
 
 lines may ferve as a fpecimen. After having enlarged on 
 the martial virtues of our anceftors, he adds : 
 
 " Artibus his, totum fremerent cum bella per orbem, 
 Nullaque non legis tellus mutaret avitas 
 Externo fubjec~la jugo, gens una vetuftis 
 Sedibus antiqua fub libertate refedit. 
 . Subflhit hie Gothi furor, hie gravis impetus hsefit 
 Saxonis, hie Gimber fuperato Saxone, et acri 
 Perdomito et Neufter Cimbro. Si volvere prifcos 
 Non piget annales, hie et viftoria fixit 
 Przcipitem Romana gradum : quern non gravis Aufler 
 Reppulit, incultis non fquallens Parthiacampis; 
 Non zftu Meroe, non frigore Rhenis et Albis 
 Tardavit, Latium rcmorata eft Scotia curfum ; 
 Solaque gens mundi eft cum qua non culmine mentis, 
 Non rapidi ripis amnis, non objice fylvse, 
 Non vafti fpatiis campi Romana poteftas, 
 Sed muris foflaque fui confinia regni 
 Munivit : gentefque alias cum pelleret armis 
 Sedibus, aut vi&as vilem fervaret in ufum 
 Servitii, hie contcnta fuos defendere fines 
 Roma fecurigeris prztendit mania Scotis : 
 Hie fpe progrefTus pofita Carronis ad undam 
 Terminus Aufonii fignat divortia regni. 
 
 11 Hence it was that when wars raged in every other 
 u part of the world, when there was no country which 
 " did not change its ancient laws and bend under a fo- 
 44 reign yoke, that A SINGLE NATION maintained its native 
 4t poffeffions, and its former liberty. Here it was, that the 
 44 fury of the Goths was forced to paufe, here was check- 
 44 ed the dreadful force of tire Saxons, of the Danes who 
 t; vanquifhed the Saxons, and of the Normans who van- 
 " quiu\ed the Danes. If you do not blufli to read the 
 " aunals of our anceftors, here it was, that vidlori- 
 " ous Rome flopped in her rapid courfe. She whom nei- 
 " ther the formidable Carthaginian repulfed, nor the hor 
 
 A a ij
 
 zSa MEiroiEs OF GEOHCE BUCHANAN. 
 
 w rid defarts of Parthia, nor the burning fun of Ethiopia, 
 il nor the frozen Elbe, nor the Rhine could ftop, was com- 
 41 pelled to paufe on the confines of Scotland. This was 
 <4 the only country in which the Roman empire wasbound- 
 " ed, not by inaceeflible mountains, not by the banks 
 w of a rapid river, not by the barrier of a foreft, or by 
 " an extenfive plain, but by walls and trenches. While 
 fct by her arms me was driving other nations from their 
 " native feats, or reducing them to difgracefulfervitude, 
 w here alone Rome was contented to defend her limits, 
 " and protect herfelf by ramparts from the Caledonian 
 " battle ax. Here, laying afide the hope of conqueft, 
 tc Terminus, upon the banks of Garron, fixed the limits 
 4t of the Italian empire.' 1 He proceeds in a ftyle not ve- 
 ry courtly, to remind Francis that the French nation had 
 never, fince the days of Charlemagne, performed any mar- 
 tial exploit of confequence, where the Scots had not borne 
 away a full fhare of the honours of the field. He con- 
 cludes by the ufual predictions of profperity and happi- 
 nefs. The next article contains a ftriking picture of the 
 miferies of France, occafioned by the death of the young 
 prince. Buchanan feems to have been fond of horfeman- 
 ihip ; for we have a ftiort but elegant poem in praife of 
 the horfe t- 
 
 The laft piece in this divifion, is a poem upon the birth 
 of James VI. He begins by anticipating the natural and 
 happy confequences of an union between the two king- 
 doms, and exprefies, in the language of a man who lov- 
 ed his country, his wifhes that the royal parents may 
 educate their fon in fuch a manner as to qualify him for 
 his exalted ftaticn. The reft of this performance conflfls 
 entirely of a feries of excellent moral leflbns, of which it 
 
 * There is a foolifti (lory ef a quarrel, about a horfe between 
 our author and the Earl of Morton. Mr. Man, p. 33. et feq : has 
 beftewed % refutation which it did not deferve. This fable i & 
 told at length by Ruddiman. Mr. George Chalmers of London, 
 is at prefent writing his life, in which, his treatment of Buch- 
 anan ought to ftand foremoft.
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEOEGE BUCHANAN. 281 
 
 feems highly proper to remind the prefent generation. 
 We have feen the mad prodigality of three or four indi- 
 viduals precipitate into bankruptcy the government of a 
 great nation. We can have no doubt that, in other coun- 
 tries, the fame conduft will, in due time, produce the 
 fame jufl and natural effe&s. Buchanan affirms that the 
 manners of a people depend much lefs upon the laws of the 
 ftate than upon the example of their prince. He has not 
 indeed infinuated that his intended pupil, may one day; 
 become a jockey, a game fie r, a mendicant, the prefident 
 of a beef fteak club, or the arbiter of a boxing ftage and 
 a cock-pit. But he expatiates upon the ruin and infamy 
 which attend an abufe of wine or women. u What man," 
 fays Buchanan, " is not a&amed of being drunk, when 
 " he knows that his king is fober?" He warns James a- 
 gainft profufion in his perfonal and domeftic expences, 
 and informs him that a worthlefs iovereign is an utmoft 
 cnrfe of fociety. Alexander, Nero, and Domitian, are 
 brought forward as examples of the fatal effects of bar- 
 barity and defpotifm. In ihort, the whole poem, except 
 a few lines at the beginning, is a rigid lecture of which 
 Hampden or Sully would not have been amamed; and for 
 which he would have been fincerely thanked -by a Gufta- 
 vus Adolphus *, or a Frederick. He concludes with an 
 advice to ftudy letters and philofophy, as the beft fchool 
 for the art of government. u If in the bufinefs of life," 
 fays the poet, " he is attentive to thefe rules, he fhall 
 u be happy in fwaying the fceptre of his anceftors." How 
 oppofite, how deplorable on the birth of a prince, is the 
 language of Dryden, who compares the junction of three 
 kingdoms in one, to the facred myfteries of religion. Dry- 
 den, however, would certainly, in our luxurious and fer- 
 
 * Hwte tells us that the Swedifh mona*> having, after an 
 obftinate fiege, forced a town to furrender, to convince the in- 
 habitants of their perfedt iecurity, entered firft himfelf, without 
 a fingle attendant, and going into a bookfeller's fliop, inquired 
 for a copy of Buchanan's poems. 
 
 A a iij
 
 Z82 MEM01KS OF GEOEGE BUCHANAN, 
 
 vile age, have borne away the palm of popularity and pre- 
 ferment from his cynical predeceflbr. Though he lived 
 and died in thebcfom of treafon, rapine, and profcription, 
 Buchanan would have feen, with furprife, our modern 
 ilandard of morality. We call ourfelves a free people, 
 and yet we have fubmitted to hear, from the chair of juf- 
 ticc, that truth is a libel, a doctrine which tears up the 
 foundations of civil fociety, and compared to which tran- 
 fubftantiation, or even the divine right of tyrants, is a 
 modefl and refpedlable fophifm. With what indignation 
 would the author of the treatife De Jure R'egni, have 
 branded the father and abettors of fuch an execrable max- 
 im? It is natural enough, that a barrifter, whofe life has 
 been employed in brawling, fhould, in the end, dif- 
 tort his own mind out of all fenfe of equity, and when HE 
 mounts the faddle of authority, fuch decifions may fome- 
 times be expefled; but what are we to think of thofe a- 
 bandoned jurors, who, fporting with the trufl of their fel- 
 low citizens, have crouched under this utmoft infolence 
 of juridical corruption. 
 
 V. The love verfes in this fecYion have all the tender- 
 nefs, elegance, and vivacity of Catullus. Some Englifh 
 imitators of Spenfer and Milton, have copied nothing but 
 their faults. On the contrary, Buchanan improves upon 
 his mailer. We are no where difgufled by the licentious 
 vulgarity of the Roman poet. The following elegant ad- 
 drefs may ferve as a fpecimen of his ftyle.. 
 
 Quantum delicias tuas amabam, 
 
 Odi deterius duplo, ampliufque 
 
 Tuam nequitiam et procacitatem, 
 
 Poftquam te propius, Neara novi. 
 
 At tu fi penitus perire me vis, 
 
 Si vis perd!"e amem, et magis magifquc 
 
 Totis artubus irnbibam furorem, 
 
 Sis nequam magis, et magis proterva. 
 
 Nam quo nequior es, proterviorque, 
 
 Tanto impeuflus uror inquieto
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN. 283 
 
 Venttlante odio faces amoris. 
 Et lentas iterum ciente flammas. 
 Quod li fis melior, modeftiorque, 
 Odero minus, et minus te amabo. 
 
 " As much as I loved Ihy charms, twice as much more 
 " have I detefted thy pride and wantonnefs, after, O Ne- 
 " zra! I knew thee better. But if thou canil wifh me ut- 
 " terly undone, if thou defireft that I mould love to dif- 
 " tradlion, that madnefs mould more and more burn in 
 u every vein, be flill more haughty, and ftill more wan- 
 " ton. For the more haughty and the more wanton thou 
 44 art, by fo much more deeply am I inflamed with reft- 
 44 lefs hatred fanning the torch of love, and again kind- 
 4t ling its decaying flames. Wert thou more modefl, and 
 44 more worthy, I ihould hate thee lefs, but I mould love 
 44 thee lefs." 
 
 We have alfo fome mort and beautiful addreCes to 
 Theodore Beza, and other men of letters, which muft 
 have been infinitely pleafing and flattering to the author's 
 literary affociates. We cannot wonder, that wit, and 
 learning, and valour, and beauty, whatever is amiable, 
 or venerable in human nature, crouded into the corre- 
 fpondence of a poet, prodigal of immortality. The laft 
 article in this feclion proves that Buchanan poffefled the 
 art of raiflng, into importance, a fubjedl in itfelf trifling. 
 It confifls of verfes on a diamond cut into the fhape of a 
 heart, and fet in a ring, which Queen Mary, in 1564, 
 fent as a prefent to Elizabeth. To forbear their infertion, 
 is an injury to the author. 
 
 VI. lambon Liber. This feclion confifls, like the laft, 
 of eleven articles. The firft is infcribed to Walter Had- 
 don. The remainder confift of four fatires addreffed to 
 Leonora, a Portuguefe hoftefs ; four pieces of the fame na- 
 ture, infcribed to a profeffor in Goimbra; and two tranf- 
 lations from the Greek, one of which is the fatire of Si- 
 monides upon women. This poem, the Spectator has 
 pretended to translate entire, but has omitted the lall
 
 24 MEMOIBS OF GEORGE BUCHANAN'. 
 
 twenty-five lines, which, as the poet's parting blow, con- 
 tain a furious inve&ive againft the whole fex. After this 
 honeft piece of management the Spectator praifes the 
 Greek poet for his delicacy in forbearing to cafl out any 
 general reflections againfl women. I return to Buchanan. 
 His firft addrefs to Leonora begins thus: 
 
 Matre impudica filia impudicior, 
 
 Et lena mater filiz, 
 Vos me putaftis eiTe ludumque et jocum, 
 
 O Scorta triobolaria, 
 Sacrinculorum pauperum faflidia 
 
 Rclifta mendicabuli 
 
 Vos ne videret gurgites, ne pafceret 
 
 Vir filia: ufque ad ultimcs 
 Profugit Indos : nee viae longinquitas, 
 
 !Nec nota feritas gentium, 
 Nee belluofi rapida fsevities freti 
 
 Ab inftituto terruit. 
 Nullum periculum, iiulla monftri eft vaftitas 
 
 Quam perpeti non maluit, 
 Quam vos videre duplices voragines 
 
 Famse reique prodigas. 
 Externa potius arma, quam domefticam 
 
 Vult ferre turpitudinem. 
 
 " O daughter more impudent than thy impudent rno- 
 ct ther, and thou bawd to thy daughter, ye have thought 
 " me to be a jeft and a fport, ye threepenny {trumpets, 
 " ye detefled leavings of the beggarly attendants of ftarv- 
 '" ing priells. 
 
 u Left he fhould fee, or fupport fuch whirlpools, the 
 " daughter's hufband fled to the remoteft Indies. Nei- 
 " ther the length of paflage nor the well known ferocity 
 " of the natives could fright him from his purpofe. There 
 " was no danger, there was no favage moniler whom he 
 " was not willing rather to encounter, than to behold
 
 MEMOIRS OF GEORGE BVCHANANV 285 
 
 a you, two gulphs abforbing property and chara&er. He 
 " prefers foreign arms to domeflic infamy." 
 
 The reft of the poem, of which the above is a fourth 
 part, is fuitable to fuch a beginning. The writer defcribes 
 with great eloquence, the deftructive confequences of 
 Leonora's proflitution, upon the ftudents at Goimbra, 
 and concludes by predicting that her debauchery mufl ter- 
 minate in difeafe, deformity, and want. In another ar- 
 ticle he confefTes, that me had once enjoyed his utmoft 
 tendernefs, and laments the infamy into which paflion, 
 or rather appetite had betrayed him, " My; heart," he 
 exclaims, " was not pierced by the dart of Cupid, but 
 " blafted by the torch of perdition. Ye avenging furies, 
 " for what crime have I been fcourged at youf tribunal?" 
 Even folly and vice are compatible with a fpecies of dig- 
 nity. Compare Buchanan frankly recording his faults and 
 his remorfe, to Pope vamping four volumes of letters, 
 with a catalogue of his headachs and his virtues. 
 
 The profeflbr is, if pofiible, handled with Hill lefs ce- 
 remony, than the courtezan. " He knows," fays Buch- 
 anan, " every fcience except thofe which he pretends to 
 " teach; he is an excellent cook, weaver, huckfter, joe- 
 u key, and ufurer. No butcher in the public market 
 " ever excelled him at cheating with falfe weights." 
 
 I have already far exceeded the limits intended for this. 
 efTay, and /hall conclude by a few general remarks on our 
 author's flyle. 
 
 No poet ever required lefs aid from critical illuftration. 
 In Buchanan we very feldom meet with thofe fudden tranfi- 
 tions from one topic to another, fo frequent in Horace^nd 
 Juvenal; fo diflreffing often to the learner, though fome- 
 times fo pleafing to the mature fcholar. Whatever be 
 his objedl, it is ever kept in view. From the FRANCIS- 
 CANU, for example, two lines cannot be abilradled .with- 
 out evident mutilation. Perhaps his experience, as a 
 teacher, may in part have inflruc~led him to fympathize 
 with the difficulties of a beginner. No Roman author, 
 now extant, exhibits fuch a variety of flyle. There is
 
 286 MEMOIRS OF GSOHGE BUCHANAN*. 
 
 hardlv perhaps one claffical word in the Latin language 
 which may not be fomewhere found in his writings. Yet 
 there are very few difficult pafTages in Buchanan. As his 
 fubjedl requires it, he is alternately copious without prt>- 
 lixity, and concife without abruptnefs. 
 
 The remaining poems of this author confift, 17?, Of 
 three books of epigrams, containing about an hundred and 
 eighty-fix articles, arf, His mifcellanies. This fecYion 
 which contains thirty-eight pieces, fupplies us with fome 
 of his principal efforts in Lyric poetry. 3^, His De Spb&- 
 ra, in five books, perhaps the nobleft didactic poem in 
 the world, and unqueflionably the moft fublime monu- 
 ment of the genius of Buchanan. 4^, His four tragedies. 
 5*, His fatire on the Cardinal of Lorraine, and fome o- 
 ther pieces not ufually arranged under any of the former 
 fe&ions. Among thefe are his celebrated dedication of 
 the PfaJms to Queen Mary, and a copy of verfes infcrib- 
 ed to John Third of Portugal, which alone, had he com- 
 pofed nothing elfe, would have entitled him to the cha- 
 racter of a great poet. It is aftonifhing to confider what 
 fplendor of fentiment, and luxuriance of imagery are com- 
 prifed within twenty -two lines. 
 
 It was my firfl defign to glance over thefe remaining 
 fecYions, and hazard fome remarks on their merit. But 
 the tafk is arduous, and it becomes neceffary to decline 
 it. My chief intention was to excite a fpirit of popular 
 curiofity concerning Buchanan's original poems. Forfince 
 Ruddiman's edition in 1715, they have not been republifh- 
 ed in North Britain. 
 
 This circumflance is of itfelf fufficient to refute the 
 vulgar conceit of Scottilh fuperiority in claffical learning. 
 Of the people called men of letters, there are but a 
 few who can read with facility the writers of ancient 
 Rome. This ignorance at once accounts for the partial 
 oblivion of a poet, who truly deferves that title. In every 
 condition of life, the defponrding fludent, the fuccefsful 
 ftatefman, the philofopher opprefled but not overwhelm- 
 ed by the infirmities of age, he is always the fame enlight-
 
 HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. 287 
 
 ened mafler of moral and political wifdom, the fame in- 
 terefling painter of the fcenes and chara&ers of domeftic 
 life, the fame incorruptible defender of the rights of man- 
 kind. On every fubjeft his fentiments are diftinguifhed 
 by a fuperior grafp of thought, his ftyle by dignity, pro- 
 priety, and Cmplicity. Since the death of Buchanan two 
 centuries have elapfed, and his country, fertile in pleafing 
 writers of verfe, has not yet produced even, the fhadow 
 of a rival*. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. 
 
 THIS morning while I faunter'd round my fields, 
 Enjoying every fwreet which fummer yields, 
 A more delightful day was never feen, 
 The corn fo yellow, and the grafs fo green. 
 The grape and orange clufter'd in the grove, 
 Ten thoufand linnets tun'd the tale of love; 
 The amorous fhepherd pour'd his tender lay, 
 While round his fteps he faw his lambkins play ; 
 And, through the rofes, the brifk bee purfue 
 Her pleafing toil to fip the mining dew ; 
 The blue horizon not a cloud o'ercaft, 
 The eaftern fun acrofs its bofom pafl ; 
 In awful fplendour up the Heavns he roll'd, 
 At fuch a fcene what fongfter could be cold ! 
 With health and innocence, my heart was light, 
 Nature's whole beauties burfling on my fight. 
 
 * This article was drawn up at the particular defire of the 
 writer of the preceding Remarks on Englifh Plays. To the 
 fame critic, it has been indebted for a variety of corredions both 
 in the matter and the ftyle. 
 
 There is a curious circumftance refpe&ing our countryman ob- 
 ferved by Dryden, " That Milton's defence of the Englilh people 
 " is MANIFESTLY STOLEN from Buchanan, De Jure RegnL Apud 
 " Scotos."
 
 288 HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XIII. 
 
 But mark what hazards mankind hourly run, 
 Nor knows the wifeft all he ought to fhun. 
 "Tis true, a failor fears the raging wave, 
 A hero fights for conqueft, or the grave j 
 Thie ves know their turn of Tyburn comes about, 
 And fots, when fober, can forfee the gout ; 
 But Death far other fates may foon afford 
 Than florins, or gouts, the gallows, or the fword. 
 
 For while fo cheerfully I mus'd along, 
 My bofom heaving with the future fong, 
 Homer himfelf came rufhing on my foul, 
 And the fmooth verfe had juft begun to roll ; 
 Befide an oak I fat me down to reft, 
 Where fifty rooks had hung their airy nefl; 
 When, (future ages tremble as ye read !) 
 The faithlefs log fell thund'ring o'er my head. 
 The rotten ftem with fuch a vengance broke, 
 Scarce could my fpeed efcape the crafhing flroke : 
 Ajax himfelf had funk with fuch a blow, 
 And Hedor hafted to the {hades below. 
 
 Good Heav'ns ! how nearly have I fhun'd the tomb. 
 Where I and all mankind muft quickly come. 
 Were Virgil's fine Elyfian fiftions true, 
 What awful fcenes had open'd to my view, 
 Where bards no more the flight of fummer mourn. 
 Or dark December's terrible return ; 
 No partial laws the wealthy rogue regard, 
 But Vice and Virtue reap their full reward : 
 .No pamper'd prince, with falivations pale, 
 There fquanders half his kingdom at a meal ; 
 There the wrong'd widow fhall no more complain, 
 There the fad orphan finds his fire again. 
 See Pcetus there his Arria's fteps attend, 
 Brutus again embrace each long loft friend ; 
 Cato dictator in the bleft abodes, 
 Horace recanting fome ebfequious odes.
 
 189 
 
 I hear fweet Sappho pour her plantive flrain,* 
 
 While keen Repentance racks her favage fwain ; 
 
 And thou, fad Ovid, thy long exile paft, 
 
 In happier regions haft arr'rvM at laft. 
 
 What bitter pangs the banifh'd wretch await, 
 
 The guilt of war, the tnadnefs of the great, 
 
 'The fall of tyrants fwell thy lofty fong, 
 
 While to thy deep-ton'd voice the fhades attentive throng. 
 
 Lo ! fierce Tifiphone to pity charmed, 
 
 Of half her fury fees herfelf difarm'd^ 
 
 Tityus no more his vultures feems to feel, 
 
 Enraptur'd Ixion refts upon bis wheel-:; 
 
 Great Julius, with each note forgets to groan, 
 
 And Nero vaunts fuch verfes were his own ; 
 
 While, funk in flames at hell's remoteft bound, 
 
 The mean Oc\avius trembles at the found. 
 
 ON WINTER. 
 
 THOUGH you nor gamble, wench, nor drink. 
 
 And fcorn to play the fophift's tune, 
 You tell me you fincerely think 
 
 December juft as fweet as June. 
 
 Darknefs, when debauchees defire, 
 
 The wifdom of their choice we know ; 
 And pedants, by a tavern fire, 
 
 May laugh at cold, and froft, and fnovffv . * 
 
 But were they wearied, fhivering, wet, 
 Behind the plow-fhare, and, like me, 
 
 JEoliis fidibus querentem 
 Sappho puellis de popularibus. 
 
 A natural topic for a female pen. The ladies hare, in all age% 
 been famous for MUTUAL AKTIFATHY, and Sappho'j aawori af. 
 forded food for fcandal. 
 
 Bb
 
 290 VIEW OF SOCIETY. 
 
 For coals and candles deep in debt, 
 The curfe of Winter they would fee. 
 
 And though your pious 'blank-verfe bard 
 Thinks admiration fuch a duty, 
 
 When Boreas in my face blows hard, 
 I bid the Devil take his beauty. 
 
 Rejoice with him in rattling fhow'rs, 
 And tempefts terribly fublime ; 
 
 But give me funmine, grafs, and flow'rss 
 And. Summer blufhing in his prime. 
 
 And mould a tertian or the gout 
 
 O'ercafl your Chriftmas with a gloom, 
 
 When May-day puts difeafe to rout, 
 
 You'll know the worth of nature's bloom. 
 
 A VIEW OF SOCIETY IN THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. 
 
 SOME Englifh fchool-boys who go there to dance, 
 Prefer the climate, language, tafle of France ; 
 But who from Paris would not turn his back, 
 That recollefts the Baftile and the Rack ? 
 There all the rights of mankind are a jeft, 
 And truth and learning trampled by the priefl.* 
 
 When others figh for Italy and Spain, 
 The fame fad flory may be told again ; 
 The mildeft iky, the moft luxuriant foil, 
 Can fcarce repay the wretched peafant's toil ; 
 The tawdry nobles, a voracious croud, 
 And monks by millions feafl upon his blood. 
 
 Nor in her marines would I chufe to live 
 For all the gold that Holland has to give ; 
 
 * Thefe lines were written before the late revolution, fo pertly 
 reprobated by an Irifli orator.
 
 VIEW 0? SOCIETY. 2gt 
 
 Some burfting flood your villa may furround, 
 *uin iiuii the nation in an hour be drown'd: 
 A fecond Louis may your province feize, 
 Or brutal Burghers cruui you when they pleafe. 
 When rage once kindles in their foggy brains, 
 Nor earth, nor hell, a madder mob contains. 
 
 The native chains of Greece we know by rote, 
 But every BafTa there may eut your throat. 
 The fpirit of Lycurgus hath expir'd, ', \.i\ 
 And all the wit antiquity admir'd ; 
 And every vice corrupts the coward breaft 
 Which meannefs genders in a mind dcprefs'd. 
 
 Nor dream of Sicily's delightful plains, 
 There Popifli tyranny triumphant reigns ; 
 Ferocious bravoes for your blood confptre, 
 And every mountain fhakes with inward fire 
 Where Carthage, Athens, Rome, for empire fought, 
 The poor remains of pomp need fcarce be fought; 
 Majeftic ruins o'er the defart fpread, 
 Form a fad fhelter to the fhepherd's fhed 
 , Let pettifli Scots for Caledonia plead, 
 But freedom hardly ventures north of Tweed ; 
 O'er civil pleas the fherriff nods alone, 
 In thefe the right of jury is unknown. 
 Each well contefted point his lordlhip clears, 
 In five or thirty or an hundred years. 
 The man who takes a flieep muft ftretch a cord, 
 For him no mercy Juftice can afford, 
 Though 'twas rank hunger forc'd the wretch to fleal, 
 And five young beggars bawling for a meal ; 
 But when fome drab commits the fouleft crime, 
 Which ever blacken'd the records of time, 
 Like Jafon's far fam'd concubine, deftroys 
 The guiltlefs fruit of all her former joys, 
 Then my Lord Advocate, his fenfc to fhow, 
 To fome lefs baleful climate bids her go. 
 By every petty Laird at will oppreft, 
 Can their pale pleafantry be counted blcft ? 
 
 Bbi]
 
 2$2 HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII* 
 
 Shoals, wanting food, to feek fome kinder fty, 
 Like felons from a jail, their thanklefs country fly. 
 
 Then let us all be happy we're at home, 
 !Nor feek repofe at Paris or at Rome. 
 With one great truth contented we may reft, 
 No ftate on earth was e'er completely bleft ; 
 And, though we fearch our fcurvy globe around", 
 So fortunate a fpot will fcarce be found. 
 That England's deep in debt we don't deny, 
 Prelates and beggars tax us very high ; 
 Each bankrupt gamefler to the Hoitfe may run, 
 And bid defiance to the boldcft dun : 
 But flill our precious laws exert their powery 
 To prop the reputation of a who*e : 
 And fhould fomc parfon in due rev'rence fail, 
 The rogue mull for a twelvemonth rot in jail. 
 And pay, betides, the blufhing fair a fine, 
 For daring her chafle name to undermine ! 
 Should Honour in his bofom make a ftand, 
 And reafon linger erejie leaves the land^ 
 Some brazen featur'd hireling bears him down, 
 And vindicates the virgin of the town 1 
 By fuch fublime decifions, who can wonder 
 When wives and maidens chance to make a blunder. 
 If our fage legiflators o'er and o'er, 
 Aflert there's no dijftin&ion lei's or more ! 
 Who but mull hear the faft with admiration, 
 And glory in defcent from fuch a nation ! 
 
 HORACE, LIB. IV. ODE VII. 
 
 RETURNING fpring the-fwain with rapture fees, 
 Their lovely foliage open* on the trees. 
 The fnows on yon bleak fummit melt away, 
 Reviving nature hails th' extending day ; 
 The teeming earth difpbys her verdant pride, 
 Within their banks the ilreams- decreaGug glide j.
 
 ON POETRT. 
 
 The froft is foften'd by the weftern wind, 
 Spring blooms, and Summer follows clofe behind. 
 Anon rich harveft heaps the bufy plain, 
 And favage Winter fweeps the grove again. 
 Thefe ever circling feafons of the year, 
 Reminds us nothing is immortal here ! 
 The moon repairs her wanings in the fky, 
 But, we alas ! when once our afhes lye 
 Where kings and heroes fink in endlefs night, 
 No more can vifit the reviving light. 
 And who hath learn'd, that Fortune mall allow 
 Another hour of life to me or you? 
 Then Cnce the farce muft quickly have an end, 
 Enjoy your wealth with each deferving friend. 
 Your heir nor wonder when you hear it told, 
 Will hardly thank you for the mafs of gold. 
 And when the turf is plac'd upon your head, 
 In vain would eloquence your pardon plead ; 
 In vain to virtue, riches, fame, you truft, 
 Not Rome herfelf can raife you from the dull. 
 Monks may detail fuch nonfenfe if they can, 
 But nature fcorns to leave her common plan : 
 Not all his wit for Shakefpeare could atone, 
 And fools muft go where former fools have gone. 
 Brave Wolfe fhall never burft the bonds of death, 
 Nor England's tears recall her Howard's breath. 
 
 ON POETRY, 
 
 ONE reafon why fo many poets tire, 
 In quartos they fuppofe we fhould admire, 
 Is, that while planning an immortal fong, 
 They chufe a theme too lofty, or too long. 
 What human bellows are not fick to death, 
 Bawling three thoufand verfes at a breath. 
 That Homer often lags, his friends allow, 
 Ten poems muft have charm'd us more than two.' 
 
 Bbiij
 
 204 ON FOETRY.- 
 
 'Twas pity he forgot the Golden Fleece, 
 
 And other famous feats of fighting Greece ? 
 
 And all are forry when his Iliad's done, 
 
 That Nell and Troy are neither loft nor won. 
 
 "Why force UlyfTes fo far into vogue, 
 
 Six books might well have ferv'd that vagrant rograe^ 
 
 Lucretius chofe a topic too fublime, 
 Which cannot be furvey'd on this fide time j 
 And mad aflertion taking boundlefs fcope, 
 Deforms the motely maflerpiece of Pope j- 
 The dullefl of us all would laugh to hear, 
 That truth,. in fpite of reafcn, can be clear I 
 I wifh, in failing, to keep fight of land, 
 And flmt a book I feldom underfland. 
 
 Avoid with equal care the tragic fchool, 
 "Where modern wits have alfo playM the fooL 
 Unlefs you wifh to be the common fport, 
 Above all points be certain to be fhort. * 
 A tale when drawn to more than common lengthy 
 Has fair lytir'd Herculean Shakefpeare-s ftrength* 
 
 Another fault too eommonly we find, 
 That no connection captivates the mind ; 
 Though fplendid paragraphs perhaps appear, 
 They tumble in, no matter when or where j 
 What follows never ufher'd by the paft, 
 Since the firft period might fucceed the laft. 
 In Horace, for example, you may fee, 
 And more than once, one ode compos'd of th*ee ; 
 Of this, and every poffible mijftake, 
 Models from Dryden's ftorehoufe you may take. 
 
 Canute, the Danifh conqueror, thought otherwife, and or der- 
 d a poet to be put to death for having dared to celebrate his 
 valour in a SHORT copy of verfes, " BRSVIS CANTILENAS." The 
 author obtained a refpite ; produced, next day, thirty additional 
 ilanzas, and was rewarded with fifty merks of fine Clver ; a round 
 fum in thofe ages. 
 
 See Wartojj's Hiftory of Englifh Poetry,
 
 ON POETRT. 395 
 
 For fach a fault no elegance atones, 
 To build is more than merely heaping flonesv 
 Juft thereverfe of many a modern bard, 
 
 Let reafon occupy your firfl regard ; 
 
 Nor with rough Churchill at your fpeeies fcold, 
 
 Nor yet in panegyric be too bold. 
 
 Exalt no Gzfar to the bright abodes, 
 
 Or, if you muft be da-mn'd, read Mafon's Odes j 
 
 Hark how he fings, fo admirably fweet, 
 
 That common fenfe falls charm'd at folly's feet r 
 
 To praife the poets of the prefent age, 
 
 Be fure you never blot a fecond page. 
 Nor leek by drawl mg epithets to mine, 
 
 Nor let in<verjion bungle every line. 
 
 Rejedl that heavy turgid ftrutting waJk, 
 
 Compofe with the fame plainnefs that we talk. 
 
 Swift as an arrow moots along the fky, 
 
 So light, fo rapid, make your verfes fly ; 
 
 Let fmocth familiar language be their boafl, 
 
 That nobody may dream the toil they coft. 
 
 Obfcurity's a rhymer's vileft vice, 
 
 Mankind want time to read our trifles twice ; 
 
 Correct each word, why mould we not compofe, 
 
 With equal purity in verfe and profe. 
 
 Yet while fome Britim wits affeft to foar, 
 Expiring grammar bleeds at every pore ; 
 The patriot dean fo claffical and bright, 
 In pointing periods is not always right. 
 
 Nor croud like Pope, and him, your page with narae% 
 In which pofterity no interefl claims ; 
 To tell the worth of every civil friend, 
 Or handfome wench, our feelings muft offend j 
 Nor puflb your private quarrels into light, 
 Nor call that virtuous rage, the world c&Usfpitc. 
 Try, if you can, to make us good and wife, 
 For there the worth of compofition lies. 
 Morality's a coin which cannot ruft, 
 All Ihould be humble, merciful, and juft;
 
 396 ON POETET. 
 
 And all to hear the fermon are content, 
 
 And fay their neighbours, not tbemfcfoes, are meant.- 
 
 Nor into fervile imitation fink, 
 But for yourfelf on every fubjec~l think. 
 If * * * has told ten thoufand Tory lies, 
 His faithlefs page take courage and defpife r 
 No fashionable name your ftandard make, 
 The very bcft will frequently miftake. 
 Some hours referve to ftudy every day ; 
 And hear on every point what both fides fay. 
 From any book fome leflbns you may cull, 
 So rather than read nothing, read the dull. 
 For thirty years, that circle you may run, 
 And find the tafk of learning but begun. 
 Yet jufl to read, norpaufe to underftand, 
 Is merely calling manure on dry fand. 
 Reflect, if poffible, both day and night, 
 The more you know the better yon muft write ; 
 Extenfive knowledge when you want to chime, 
 Supplies a rich variety of rhyme. 
 The buyer thinks the volume cheaply bought, 
 And wonders where you found each happy thought j 
 But he \rho ftudy never learns to prize, 
 Can hardly teach another to be wife ; 
 We reap at once the harvcft of his brain, 
 And fee the fame dull joke return again. 
 
 Your trifles to a feledl few rehearfe, 
 Who love and underfland the charms of verfe; 
 When thefe condemn, be willing to believe, 
 Nor to deflroy whole meets abfui dly grieve. 
 Compofe with ardour, but correA with phlegm, 
 And rarely trufl yourfelf as far as them : ;_u 3 
 Nor vainly wrangle on the weaker fide, 
 Embrace correction with a grateful pride ; 
 Pore on each period, while your brains are cool, 
 Nor fpurn good fenfe when utter'd by a fool ; 
 Compel each hearer frankly to advife, 
 Nor flight a hint from people you defpife. . .
 
 ON fOETRT. 257 
 
 I want to mow you, in a ferious light, 
 That 'tis no eafy talk to learn to write. 
 Before you can produce a Cngle page 
 Deferving audience in a letter'd age,. 
 Whole years in pra&ice muft have been emplby'd, 
 Whole reams of raw efTays in flump deftroy'd j 
 So many great men have engrofs'd ourpraife, 
 No common merit pleafes now a-days : 
 Or if caprice one winter makes us hear, 
 Profound oblivion hovers in the rear.- 
 If Thomfon's Liberty was ever read, 
 'Tis long fince number' d with " the mighty deads"" 
 One-third of Waller, Denham, Wilmot, Prior, 
 Serve but to fwell their volume's price the higher. 
 The lofty Mallet, marvellous to tell ! 
 All fuch admire as have his works to fell. 5 
 
 In Mafon's praife before you rafhly talk, 
 Ojiite round his charming Garden try to walk. 
 Some yet with Francis doze their time away, 
 And bawl with tranfport the Norfe odes of Gray ; 
 Or that profound, but lofty piece, the Bard t 
 Though John's Apocalypfe be not fo hard. 
 Great Akenfide fo deep in ancient rules, 
 Has foar'd a height beyond all former fools.. 
 In almoft all our poets, nay, the beft, 
 Still there is room to pity or detefl, 
 Thus Young, and Addifon, (one fcarce knows how} 
 To gracelefs Lords with pious rapture bow ; 
 And every human virtue fhrewdly find 
 In rafcals, the contempt of all mankind* 
 
 Ten thoughtful years may teach you to coxnpofe 7 
 Till free of toil, each happy ftanza flows, 
 Till rhyme and fentiment fo rapid rife, 
 That even yourfelf muft fee them with furprife, 
 Till rival wits acknowledge yourj-enown, 
 And all Buchanan's beauties are your own. 
 For though fome forks of tunelefs ears complain,,. s 
 That rhyming is but dancing in a chain j - ; i
 
 ag8 . EPITAPH. 
 
 By pradlice you 1 !! condenfe with perfect eafc, 
 In any meafurc, every thought you pleafe. 
 But what is the reward of Co much pains, 
 A hero's glory, or a cooler's gains ? 
 Do thofe who love the verfes, love the man, 
 Or fcrve him as fincerely as they can ? 
 Your friends your merit felfiftily approve, 
 And u fhew the fenfe of it without the love*. 1 ' 
 Our critics have been paid, as well as read, 
 While half ourfelves expire for want of bread. 
 The hackney'd names 'tis needlefs to run o'er, 
 Since every fchool-boy can repeat a fcore j 
 Scorn, hunger, envy, all your toil await, 
 So bountiful the public and the great ! . 
 Poets who would not pafs for arrant fools, 
 Mufl mind ceconomy's eternal rules, 
 Nor like fo many fongfters gift away 
 The borrow'd caih they cannot hope to pay ; 
 But hear a beggar with their patron's phlegm, 
 And fcrve the fordid world as it fervcs them. 
 .To common fenfe and common feelings blind, 
 Maniacs may boafl of loving all mankind ; 
 But reafons bids us tremble to embrace 
 Nine-tenths of what are call'd the human race. 
 A prudent man will venerate his pelf, 
 Nor to remount you, wade the mire himfelf. 
 
 EPITAPH. 
 
 IMITATED FROM BUCHANAN. 
 
 BELOW, the aflies of a man are laid, 
 Who this, and every debt with pleafure paid. 
 Unlike the world, he fancy 'd it unjuft 
 At once to purchafe, and to fell on truft ; 
 To reap a harveft on ram credit fown, 
 Or hazard any fund, except his own*
 
 EPITAJH. agf 
 
 By fpecious talk he did not ftrive to mine, 
 Nor pick'd your pocket with a pious whine ; 
 Nor, by his intereft, could his confeience rule, 
 Nor forc'd a felfifh bargain from a fool ; 
 His wants and wiflies were but very few, 
 He gave, and he exacted, juft his due ; 
 A failing friend was foremofl to fupply, 
 Nor won, nor iav'd one {billing by a lie : 
 But rich and poor, in manhood, age, and youth, 
 His heart was Honour, and his words were Truth. 
 
 For him no hearfe with Sorrow's weeds was hung, 
 No coach was hirM, no parifh-bells were rung } 
 No multitude of mourners fill'd the road, 
 Three fons alone fuftainM their lonely load. 
 No Chriftian brethren venturM to convene, 
 To grace the humble folitary fcene ; 
 No curate came through hackney 'd forms to rave,* 
 He barely got what muft he had a grave. 
 No face affunTd the fafhionable mafk, 
 The very fexton feem'd to fcorn his talk. 
 Perhaps you guefs, he fpurnM the papal fcheaie, 
 And fwore the mafs, a defpicable dream. 
 But not for this we decent rites deny'd, 
 He was not worth a penny when he died ; 
 We were not proffer'd a funereal feaft, 
 Nor could his heirs have paid the prudent priefL 
 
 " * Some years ago, the Captain of a ftiip in a fea-port in the 
 Weft of England, cut his own throat; the SERVICE was read over 
 his body at interment. When the parfon came to thefe words, 
 " We thank thee, O Lord, for the HAPPY delivery of our brother 
 " from this frail and mortal ftate," a North Briton who was pre- 
 fent looked about him to fee if the audience were not laughing, 
 but not a mufcle was difcompofed. Such farces are common in 
 England. And is there any thing more flupid or indecent re- 
 ported of Calmucks or of Hottentots?
 
 [ 300 ] 
 
 THE FAREWELL. 
 
 FBOM THE LATIK OF SECUN0XTS. 
 
 W^HAT though by fortune forc'd anew, 
 
 My deareft Julia to depart, 
 And bid a long, a fad adieu, 
 
 To her whofe anguifh rends iny heart. 
 
 Truft me, wherever I may rove, 
 
 Whatever alien charms I fee, 
 The days of joy, the nights of love, 
 
 Which I've fo fweetly fpent with thee 5 
 
 Thefe, thefe I never {hall forget, 
 
 My foul was form'd for thine alone ; 
 I envy not the giddy great, 
 
 The mifer''s hoard, the monarch's throne, 
 
 'Tis not for Rodney's fame I figh, 
 
 Nor yet for Shakefpeare's fire divine ;* 
 But his fupreme felicity, 
 
 Who preffcs to a breaft like thine. 
 
 'Tis not thy all-excelling form, 
 
 For that we know (hall early fade, 
 Nor youthful paflion's noify florm, 
 
 That too hath long long fince decayed ; 
 
 'Tis not thy cver-pleafing wit, 
 
 Intoxicates a (Iripling's brain, 
 But 'tis thy patience to fubmit, 
 
 Thy mild rclu&ance to complain ; 
 
 That generous, that intrepid mind, 
 Which dares the darkefl frowns of fate, 
 
 * In Secundus, the names are Dante and Charles V. This 
 tight alteration will not, it is hoped, difpleafe an Englifli reader. 
 
 2
 
 FHOM THE LATIN OF SECUNDUS. 
 
 Whofc humble innocence can find, 
 Solacement in its loweft flate. 
 
 I chant -not o'er a pedant's freak, 
 A dotard's or a fchool-boy's dream ; 
 
 But human languge is too weak 
 To tell my tranfports of eileem. 
 
 FROM THE SAME. 
 
 Julia, would you drown my heart, 
 With this inceflant ilream of grief? 
 Too well we know that human art 
 Alas ! can lend you no relief. 
 
 Your anguifh, if you can, allay, 
 By fond remembrance of the pafl ; 
 
 How often were you wont to fay, 
 Excefs of pleafure cannot laft. 
 
 When that dear gentle fpirit's flown, 
 How terrible the blank I fee ? 
 
 The bufy, gay, unfeeling town 
 Is but a wildernefs to me, 
 
 Where fhall I find a foul fo fweet, 
 Where all thy focial virtues fhine ? 
 
 Oh 1 in what bofom fhall I meet 
 Such artlefs unifon with mine ! 
 
 FROM THE SAME. 
 
 THRICE happy the girl that's allied with a man, 
 Who fludies her comfort as far as he can : 
 Who ne'er like a tyrant endeavours to rule, 
 Nor fancies, like Paul, every woman a fool j 
 a Cc
 
 J02 HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST II. 
 
 Who never at midnight patrolls up and down, 
 Nor values a fig any fpoufe but his own. 
 
 A faithful companion, if fuch a one meet, 
 With a judgment as found, and a temper as fweet, 
 A wit ever watchful her hufband to pleafe, 
 Without the keen edge that would murther his eafe, 
 If happinefs ever be conftant below, 
 That happinefs fure fuch a couple mould know. 
 
 Yet think not even thefe from adverfity free, 
 For all, foon or late, may be widow'd like me ; 
 May endure the laft pang which can tear a fond heart ; 
 Be taught what a terrible thing 'tis to part ; 
 And figh o'er the turf which forever retains, 
 Of all they held deareft, the mournful remains. 
 
 FROM THE SAME. 
 
 DARK is the night, and loud the wind, 
 The fnow in heavy flakes defcending ; 
 
 And, like the friendfhip of mankind, 
 Beneath each blaft my roof is bending. 
 
 An aching head, an anxious heart, 
 
 The levities of rhime difdain 
 Can founds traoquillity impart 
 
 To age, and penury, and pain ? 
 
 Almighty Father ! ftretch thine arm, 
 In mercy o'er this trembling med ; ^ 
 
 Our home hath loft each humble charm, 
 For health, and peace, and hope are fled. 
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST. II. 
 
 WHILE you at London, my illuftrious friend, 
 Intrepid Pitt from every foe defend ;
 
 HORACE, LIB I. EPIST II. 303 
 
 Learn all the virtues of your chief by rote 
 And pour the partiot's melancholy note ;* 
 The current week at Cambridge I employ, 
 With the great writer of the war of Troy. 
 With rigid wit the rules of life he taught, 
 With moral precepts every page is fraught. 
 Supreme o'er Tillotfon himfelf he fames, 
 Barrow and Clark, and twenty fuch divines. 
 Their folio lectures nobody will read, 
 But Homer captivates the lighteft head. 
 
 The fatal war from which his fable fprings, 
 Difplays the madnefs of contending kings. 
 Unhappy Paris fleals the Spartan queen, 
 And half a world in hoftile arms are feen ; 
 All Greece now ruihes to regain the prize, 
 The lover juftice, and their force defies. 
 Antenor pleads the hufband's right in vain, 
 Paris replies, himfelf can never reign, 
 '.Nor Trojan power repel a foreign lord, 
 If lovely Helen be to Greece reuor'd. 
 Thus ten long years, they fteep the crimfon more, 
 For who (hall lofe or win a handfome whore. 
 But through the Greeks a fecond quarrel ran, 
 As wife as that with which the war began ; 
 Their chiefs a girl to great Achilles gave, 
 And luflful Agamemnon feiz'd the flave. 
 Old .Neftor rofe their fury to afiuage, 
 But one was fir'd by love, and both by rage ; 
 And as wife do&ors never take a pill, 
 But oivthe patient only try their fkill, 
 So when the kings of Greece the madmen play, 
 *Tis the poor foldiers for their folly pay. 
 Atrides, to be fure, would jerk the maid, 
 We're told Achillas on his fiddle play'd, 
 And faw with decent undiffembled joy, 
 Impetuous Heftor flaughter and deftroy. 
 
 This article was written in the yew 1783, when Mr. Pitt 
 was in the Minority. 
 
 Ccij
 
 34 HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST. H. 
 
 Humane Patroclus lent a moment's aid, 
 
 But foon a corpfe by~Helor's lance was laid j 
 
 Then wife Pelides was compeird to go, 
 
 And Pallas, partial hag, betray'd his noble foe. 
 
 No pity or refped\ the vidtor feels, 
 
 The hero's body fatten' d by the heels, 
 
 Is dragg'd in triumph round the trembling town y 
 
 'Till wretched Priam pays a ranfom down. 
 
 In martial games the conqu'ring Greeks conteft, 
 
 And every ruffian tries to cheat the reft. 
 
 No age^ or. rank, or merit is rever'd, 
 
 When Trojan plunder tempts the felfifh herd. 
 
 Such is the fhocking tale. Our poet mows 
 
 What endlefs ills from rage and luft arofe. 
 
 His rapid eloquence fublimes the heart, 
 
 And at his will compells a tear to flart. 
 
 But fifty vulgar fermons fhall be read, 
 
 And not one tear by prieft or people flied ; 
 
 Then may not one be pardon'd though he call 
 
 Majeftic Homer far above them all. 
 
 When fage UlyiTes wanders o'er the main, 
 We learn what perils courage can fuftain ; 
 The mighty man who vanquifh'd Priam's race, 
 Now roams a fugitive from place to place. 
 In vain for Ithaca his followers mourn, 
 Vindictive fates prohibit their return. 
 The fhatter'd fleet is caft upon the fliore, 
 Where the wild Cyclops thirft for human gore ; 
 Melodious Syrens captivate the foul, 
 And faithlefs Circe fills the fatal bowl ; 
 Which had the hero fwallo\v'd like the reft, 
 Like them the fage had grovell'd in a beaft. 
 Misfortunes follow him in every form, 
 But ftill he foars fuperior to the ftorm ; 
 In every fcene we never fail to find, 
 A juft and curious pilure of mankind. 
 
 A modern pilot with the utmoft eafe, 
 Would in fix weeks fail round thofe very feas.
 
 HORACE, LIB. I. EPIST. II. 
 
 Where grave Ulyfles loft himfelf fo long, 
 
 But ftill we chaunt the venerable fong. 
 
 In vain the pedant proves his crabbed Hcill, 
 
 The mufe of Homer leads us where he will j 
 
 "We tremble with him in the giant's den, 
 
 We fee his failors quit the fhape of men. 
 
 We wander with him through the awful wood 
 
 Where Circe's folitary palace flood ; 
 
 And every heart exults when Hermes tells, 
 
 How the bold ftranger may diflblve the fpells. 
 
 Anon we liflen for the fatal word, 
 
 We fee the victor wave his flaming fword, 
 
 And all his comrades to thcmfelves refior'd. 
 
 We range together through Calypfo's grove, 
 
 Where Wifdom riots in the fweets of love. 
 
 At laft the monarch gains his native ifle, ' 
 
 Our captive minds attends him all the while j 
 
 We hear what riiks Telemachus had run, 
 
 Who would not be the fire of fuch a fon ? 
 
 His faithful dog crawls forth the king to meet, 
 
 Gaze in his face, and dying lick his feet. 
 
 UiyfTes now a beggar though at home, 
 
 With needful daughter heaps the royal dome. 
 
 The fage, the hero, huiband, father, fon, 
 
 How many great men's merits meet in one ! 
 
 Compeird we fmother an indignant figh, 
 
 To hear a foldier condefcend to lie. 
 
 How charmingly the poet paints a wife, 
 
 In all the duties of domeflic life ; 
 
 As far above her fex her genius tow'rs 
 
 As the brave man flie lov'd, illuftrates ours. 
 
 So fvveet her eloquence, fo humbly great, , 
 
 That even the calmed cuckold curfes fate : 
 
 Though ftill he fears no female e'er was made, 
 
 Who Virtue's impulfe to the laft obey'd. 
 
 While thus applauding Homer to the fkies, 
 Let us adopt his leflbns and be wife ; 
 
 Cciij
 
 3o5 BOBACE, LIB. i. E?IST, IK- 
 
 For you and I like many more feem born, 
 
 For little elfe than to confume the corn. 
 
 We, like the fwillers of Phzacian wine, 
 
 Think the chief end of living is to dine ; 
 
 To the poor carcafe pay fuperfluous care, 
 
 But fcarce a minute to the mind will fpare. 
 
 Thofe idle Greeks allow'd their time to roll r 
 
 In focial honefl indolence of foul ; 
 
 Pieas'd with their lot, they jetted life along, 
 
 Enjoy'd their girl, their bumper, and their fong.. 
 
 But you, my friend, whom Chatham's glories fire,. 
 
 Who give the fon that aid you ow'd the fire ; 
 
 Rejeft the lazy plafures of the town. 
 
 JSTor lofe your mornings on a bed of down. 
 
 All night the footpad fcours along the ftreet, 
 
 To rifle every perfon he can meet ; 
 
 A watch at morning to the Broker brings, 
 
 And in a term or two at Tyburn fwings. 
 
 And ihall not you exert your utmoft powers, 
 
 When Fortune's fairefl prize may foon be yours j 
 
 For fiiould your party in the Houfe prevail, 
 
 And furely fo much virtue cannot fail, 
 
 The grateful nation will with raptures hear, 
 
 That you enjoy five thoufand pounds a-year ; 
 
 And not a foul fhall buy a pair of fhocs, 
 
 Without advancing fomewhat of your dues ; 
 
 For 'tis a truth you hardly dare difown, 
 
 The poor fupply the bounties of the Crown ; 
 
 Your ftaunch excifemen teach us how to pay 
 
 Five hundred thoufand taxes every day. 
 
 Then boaft no more the fplendour of the Court, 
 
 Conflder well who pays for all the fport ; 
 
 A generous heart the mendicant may mow, 
 
 Monarchs alone have nothing to beftow ; 
 
 And when they fquander thoufands on a feail, 
 
 Their poorefl fubjed. fuffers for the jeft. * 
 
 On a late birth-daj a certain jroung gentleman appeared 
 fuit which coft above eighty thoufand pounds '
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 307 
 
 You think, for certain, were the battle won, 
 And all a patriot pants for made your own ; 
 Your penflon fix'd beyond the power of fate, 
 Your party plump, though toiling for tbejiates 
 That then you'd be the happiefl man alive, 
 Did all his millions purchafe peace to Glive ? 
 Nor fame, nor fortune cofcld his qualms compofe, ;*/ 
 At length a pounce-knife ended all his woes ; 
 I or every crime determined to atone, 
 
 ; did, for once, what juflice fhould have done, 
 but had the Britifti Cortez e'er pofleis'd 
 A focial, feeling, philofophic breaft, 
 At Glory's iummit he had clos'd his days, 
 And Time's laft accent echo'd all his praife. 
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS, 
 ANCIENT AND MODERN. 
 
 THE vulgar very often praife, 
 
 With flupid fulfome adulation, 
 Phantoms Philofophy furveys, 
 
 With pity or with deteflation. 
 Their voice flill ftronger proofs arife, 
 Weighs not an atom with the wife. 
 
 And yet fince gambling, wenching, drinking, 
 
 Turn'd marks of a fuperior fpirit ; 
 Since high-born dames forbore from thinking, 
 
 That decency's a female merit ; 
 Why preach again ft this hopeful age, 
 Or drag her bankrupt jockies on the ftage? 
 
 While every fervile fcribbler cries, 
 
 That all the great are wife and good, 
 And his whole wretched logic.triei, 
 
 To render vice and folly proud ;
 
 508 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS.* 
 
 Let us, revering facred flations, 
 Turn back to former generations : 
 
 Ere men of rank began to try 
 
 At cricket all their pimps to diftance, 
 
 Ere half the peerage with a {igh, 
 Suflain'd the burden of exiildnce, 
 
 Beyond the kennel, turf, or liable, 
 
 The cock-pit, flews, or faro-table* 
 
 All ye converfant but with odes 
 Compos'd within thefe thirty-years, 
 
 Who fancy that a rhymer nods, 
 
 If common fenfe her flandard rears ; 
 
 Have mercy on a rafh beginner, 
 
 Overhauling thus each ancient {inner. 
 
 Troy's champion kindles our eflecm, 
 But doom'd Patroclus to his dogs }. 
 
 With {laughter till your trenches fwim, 
 Divine Achilles never jogs ; 
 
 Ulyfies, now alive, had got 
 
 Renown, by forging fome bank note. 
 
 The bagnio had furely been, 
 
 At Athens a mofl hallow'd place, 
 Where fluent Socrates was feen, 
 
 To liflen for colloquial grace, 
 And his chafle principles unfolded, 
 No queftioa why his yoke-mate fcolded. 
 
 About his Dzmon thofe pretences ! 
 
 Quevedo's vifions were as true. 
 But was he perfe& in his fenfes, 
 
 To wed with an abandon'd mrew ? 
 When fourfcore years had fnarled by 
 No wonder he defir'd to die*
 
 SKETCHES OP CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. $C* 
 
 Though Plato's morals are admir'd, 
 An Englifh jury fhould have hang'd him; * 
 
 Carthage the virtuous Scipio fir'd, 
 
 While Afdrubal's dear fpoufe harangu'd him. 
 
 His cafh, all-worthy Brutus lent, 
 
 So lovr as forty-five per cent, f 
 
 And when his debtors could not pay T 
 
 He thrufl his dagger to their bofoms - r 
 And pedants tell us every day, 
 
 How pure his reputation blofloms* 
 I pafs in hafte that venal bully, 
 Loquacious chicken-hearted Tully. 
 
 Who thought himfelf fublime and witty, 
 
 By drawling forty words for four ; 
 And while they kick'd him from the city, 
 
 SnivellM and fobb'd like fome young whore 
 When fhirts or filver fpoons are loft, 
 And ketch has ty'd her to the poft. 
 
 O'er Anthony's devoted name, 
 
 He chofe in Billingfgate, to plead ; 
 His reftlefs tongue mufl bear the blame 
 
 That Anthony chopp'd of his head ;$ 
 
 * This famous moralift aflerted the right of parents to expofe, 
 that is, to murder their children. Decency forbids one to men- 
 tion his ideas of love. 
 
 f Vide Cicero's Epiftles. 
 
 | His vanity, which is of the grofleft kind, tranfpires in every 
 fentence. " Ego multa tacui, multa pertuli, multa coneeffi, mul. 
 " ta fanavi." Paflages in this ftyle occupy at leaft one half of 
 what we call his Orations. His fcurrility is equally extravagant. 
 In -what has been flyled his Divine Phillipic, he reproaches An. 
 thony as a Catamite, and a gluttsn, and tells the Roman fenafe 
 how many hours he fpent every afternoon, on a country excurfion, 
 Bating, drinking, and vomiting. " Quis interpretari poteft, in 
 '' imprudentiorne, an improbior, an impurior, an crudelior! 
 Ve. Uc. y ft
 
 310 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS, 
 
 Or did he dream that Caefar's heir 
 
 The prompter of tyrannicide would fparc. 
 
 A brief, if any counfel tries, 
 
 With Ciceronian airs to read, 
 The court humanely will advife, 
 
 The do&ori both to {have and bleed, 
 And furnifh him, who rants fo well, 
 The ftraiteft waiftcoat, and the darkcft cell. 
 
 Ccleflial Epi&etus chatter'd, 
 
 Till lo ! his mafter broke his leg ; * 
 How fweetly mould their bones be battcr'd, 
 
 Who fuch a piece of bounty beg ? 
 Yet was the fophift lefs a fool 
 Than thofe who danc'd attendance at his fchool. 
 
 For Trajan and your Antonines, 
 Who pepper'd all our bomb-proof Martyrs, i 1 
 
 3They I appeal to found Divines, 
 Were worfe than Wilmot, Wild, or Chartres. 
 
 Conftantine, too, fo great and good, 
 
 Was over head and cars in blood. 
 
 Though gracious till the world was won, 
 
 What horrid carnage curft his fequel 1 
 His friends, his wife, his gallant fon ! 
 
 NoTyburn never fwnng his equal 1 
 Enough of Greek and Roman merit, 
 Which we fo happily inherit. 
 
 t 
 
 The wits of this enlightened age, 
 Who fcarce perufe a word of Latin, 
 
 ' Such another blow will break mj leg," faid the Stoic. To 
 ratify his prediction, he got a fecond, and the limb was broken. 
 N. B. He fhould have held his tongue at the firft. 
 
 J Vide REMAINS oa CHRISTIAN ANTIQJJITY, published bj LOR
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 
 
 Upon the beauties of the ftage 
 
 Mufl be for ever, ever prating ; 
 While many a farce, with which they flout us, 
 Is not worth half a page of Seneca or Plautus, 
 
 Let fome folks with a fnuffling tone, 
 
 Racine's enfeebled accents drawl, 
 And fancy that themfelves alone, 
 
 On tafte and genius ought to fcrawl; 
 Jufl as the frog in .fop tries 
 To meafure with a bullock's Cze. 
 
 But thofe who read Horatian numbers, 
 
 Majeflic Juvenal admire, 
 Forgive arch Claudian where he Cumbers, 
 
 And catch a fpark from Ovid's fire, 
 Muft with peculiar transport, fee 
 All Rome, rever'd Buchanan! flnne in thee. 
 
 Whatever topic tempts thy mufe, 
 
 So tunefully the dactyl flows, 
 That Vandals only would refufe, 
 
 'Tis worth a wildernefs of profe : 
 Such vigour braces every line, 
 That fober Juftice owns thy eloquence divine. 
 
 To paint a gormandizing drone, 
 
 Fleecing his fuperftitious flock, 
 The guilty grandeur of a throne, 
 
 The traitor hailing to the block, 
 The boldeft flights of fcorn and praif 
 Infpire and dignify the lays ; 
 
 While fo much wit, and fenfe, and learning, 
 Such fplendid burfls of mirth and rage, 
 
 O'erwhelm us, that there's no difcerning 
 What leading beauty fhould engage ;
 
 $12 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 
 
 What verfe pathetic or fublime, 
 EcJipfes moft the prefent fons of rhyme. 
 
 Whether thy varied notes refonnd 
 
 The feats of Guifc, the fall of Charles, 
 Or foar the folar fyftem round, 
 
 Or ftoop to {ketch thy petty quarrels, 
 Alike the mighty matter fhines, 
 And the whole facred art combines. 
 
 Butler's unbounded flood of thought, 
 
 Swift, fimple, nervous, and fevere, 
 The flernefl portraits Milton wrought, 
 
 And fweeteft Otway's Belvidere, 
 "To thofe thy text, who have not feen, 
 Afford a partial hint of what thou once haft been. 
 
 "No wonder thefe enervate days, 
 
 Thy Attic volumes have neglected ; 
 For operas vile, and viler plays, 
 
 Shakefpeare begins to be rejected, 
 Though Garrick, to improve the Town, 
 So kindly ftew'd and minc'd him down. 
 
 Our fougs are innocent of meaning, 
 
 Our tragedies are wild bombafl ; 
 Since nothing here deferves our gleaning, 
 
 From fuch a defart let us hafte. 
 But Why does yon tremendous lumber, 
 Twelve rows inquarto deep, ourbending (helves encumber? 
 
 Thefe brief abridgements of State Papers, 
 
 Atteft a Queen may have amours, 
 That peers are liable to vapours, 
 
 Nay, fometimes bilk their tavern fcores, 
 As gracelefs, thanklefs Charles the Second, 
 Too feldom with his Antwerp hoftefs reckon'd.* 
 
 * Vide feme Letters from Clarendon, pubiifhcd in Dodfley's 
 nnual Regifter for 1787.
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 313 
 
 Though Clarendon had parts and conscience, 
 His brain was cramm'd with fuperflition. 
 
 "With all his lofjy loyal ncnfenfe, 
 One doubts of Oliver's perdition. 
 
 JVe tire of his eternal pen, 
 
 Two pages might fuffice for ten. 
 
 What fignified a tyrant's head, 
 
 Unlefs fair liberty may thrive ; 
 Moorfields could fpare a better breed, 
 
 Were all fuch bigots now alive, 
 Such baleful deputies of Heaven, 
 In one aufpicious blaft beyond the dog-ftar driven. 
 
 The mild, the venerable Locke, 
 
 Belies the nobleft works of nature, 
 Aflerting parracide wont mock, 
 
 In favage life a human creature,- 
 That innate morals are abfurd ; 
 Let fchool-men haggle on a word. 
 
 But does not every mortal fee 
 
 Tempers inherent in each child ? 
 Young Shylock on his nurfe's knee, , 
 
 Of plumb-cake cannot be beguil'd ; 
 Koredoom'd to mortgage an eflate, 
 With puppies, Timon {hares his plate. 
 
 The fearlefs boy, whom nature forms 
 
 Flag-ftafFs and batteries to win, 
 At eight the cyder orchard ftorma. 
 
 Defies the maftiff and the gin, 
 Leaps headlong from the bounding horfe, 
 And drags the flubborn falmon from his courfe. 
 
 The bending vine, the cedar tall, 
 
 When burfling from their parent feed, 
 
 Dd
 
 JI4 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 
 
 One fingle fpccies to mifcal, 
 
 With equal juflice we may plead, 
 In Twaddling clothes, while Newton lay, 
 Was his the fame with Shakefpeare's clay? 
 To underftandings in the germ, 
 Innate ideas to deny, is quibbling for a term. 
 
 Though favage, the Mohawk difplays 
 
 Virtues unheard of in the college, 
 We need not very loudly praife 
 
 Laborious Locke's unbounded knowledge ; 
 His work, though one of Learning's wonders, 
 O'erflows-with every fort of blunders. 
 
 That Addifon of port was fond, 
 
 I neither prize him more nor lefs ; 
 But then, for payment of his bond, 
 
 His herald Dicky to diflrefs 
 Your charity till firft I fee, 
 The deuce may take your faith for me. 
 
 Had this church-trumpeter been poor, 
 Selling Steele's bed-clothes I'd defend;* 
 
 But that apology his corps 
 Of panegyrifls can't pretend ; 
 
 Honour, did ever tool but he, 
 
 In Halifax or Wharton fee^ 
 
 Parfons his piety extol, 
 
 His phlegm philofophy mifcal ; 
 A fervile, fordid, hen-peck'd foul, 
 
 Is ten times wbrfe than none at all. 
 For him who tantaliz'd poor Stella, 
 What Tartar would have play'd his fellow ? 
 
 For this anecdote we are indebted to Dr. Johnfon, who ftates 
 the bond as being for an hundred pounds ; and to Dr. Perqr, who 
 raifes the amount of it to a thoufand. As to Wharton and Hali- 
 fax, confnlt the dedications to the fecond and fifth volume* of 
 <he Spectator.
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. JI J 
 
 '4 
 
 What ferv'd tumultuous Dublin's noifc 
 
 His private happincfs to win, 
 Diveft him of domeftic joys, 
 
 A Crcefus is not worth a pin. 
 Knocking Vaneffa on the head, 
 Had been to Swift's abufe humanity indeed. 
 
 For flattery, as a work of courfe, 
 
 What mortal matches fimple Young * ? 
 Did Virgil or Boileau do worfe ? 
 
 He better, too, had held his tongue, 
 Than damn'd, with fuch unchriftian ire", 
 All but his own dear fe& to everlafling fire. 
 
 Though fcarce at fermon twice a-year, 
 Quitting tithe-pigs with fcorn and forrow, 
 
 What has an honeft man to fear, 
 
 Should the lafl trumpet found to-morro\r ! 
 
 The glorious trades of King and Prieft 
 
 Are fadly on the wane at leafh 
 
 Some folks imagine pious Hume, 
 
 Attained to Virtue's higheft pitch : 
 They had been filent, I prefume, 
 
 But that the writer died fo rich ; 
 The pi efs, when that's the cafe, abounds 
 With " dulcet and harmonious founds." 
 
 His lively periods may procure . 
 Attention to the end of time ; 
 
 " Fools laugh at God, O Wilmington ! and thee," is a lint 
 vrhich concl udes one of the divifions of Dr Young'sNight Thoughts. 
 This is fully as bad as a paflage in Dryden's dedication of Juve- 
 nal, where he tells the Earl of Dorfet, that the English nation 
 could almoft as well fubfift without GOD'S PROVIDENCE, as with- 
 out What ! Let the reader gueft without HIS LORDSHIP'S 
 
 YEBS1S ! 
 
 Ddij
 
 3*6 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHABACTEHS. 
 
 But will the world, for fuch a lure, 
 
 Forget chicanery's a crime ? 
 This prince of fceptics fcarce could tell 
 Why china fliiver'd when it fell ! 
 
 A Bacon's, Dryden's, Shakefpeare's praife, 
 
 He weakly tries to undermine ; 
 And, brilliant Martial to debafe, 
 
 Pretends he f unn'd in every line ; * 
 O'erlooks the great Preceptor's claims, 
 Yet ftrives to compliment his ideot pupil James. 
 
 Behold, this precious Sage, advife 
 
 Each peevifh fool to cut his throat t ! 
 And deeds of infamy difguife, 
 
 Coligni's murder rivals not ! 
 Then, fee him fcruple to decide 
 Why Pym harangu'd, or Hampden died. 
 
 Ye facred and immortal names, 
 Which Freedom's fons with rev'rence hear, 
 
 When fophiftry your worth defames, 
 And toils to taint the public ear ; 
 
 With what indignity and fcorn 
 
 Ought fuch a libel to be torn I 
 
 What wit adores not Johnfon's tafte, 
 Who wifta'd Polybius had been dumb ? 
 
 The critic who feems never to have read Martial, affirms 
 that he could not perufe any of his Epigrams above once. As 
 Mr. H wa* always BREAKING EGGS WITH A HAMMER, he gives 
 a metaphyfical reafon for this important difcovery. A great part 
 of Martial's Epigrams have not, however, the moft diftant re- 
 iemblarice lo PUNNING. They are moral, pathetic, and fublime. 
 There are, indeed, in die end of his collection two entire books 
 which bear no marks of his genius, and therefore may be deemed 
 fpurious. 
 
 f His Defence of Suicide was fuppreffed forty years ago by the 
 Lord Chancellor of the day, but it is now publicly fold.
 
 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 317 
 
 To Salluft and his paper-wafle 
 
 Preferring Bunyan and Tom Thumb. 
 His wifdom trufted every rogue; 
 His virtue hated a Whig Dog. 
 
 This far-fam'd Sage at all times faid, 
 
 No man of common fenfe would write, 
 Unlefs he on the nail was paid 
 
 For every line that faw the light. 
 In print, the Doftor did not fail 
 At hireling garreteers to rail. 
 
 He told the Brewer's crazy wife 
 
 How well he lov'd a flomach load, 
 And flay'd but once in all his life 
 
 At home, when afk'd to dine abroad ; 
 Nay fometimes reel'd about the cup 
 Till morning broke the ramble up, 
 For, 'twas his glory to declare, 
 The throne of human joy- a tavern chair. 
 
 When Hodge, his cat, fell fick and blind, 
 
 Nothing but oyflers pleas'd the elf, 
 Black Frank refus'd to be fo kiad, 
 
 He therefore brought them home himfelf. * 
 Excife commiffioners he fcornM, 
 As footpads penfion'd and fubornM. f 
 
 This deep philologer defin'd 
 
 Thaty^'^ is fomethihg elfe thanyiwr, 
 That he who wants his eyes is blind, 
 
 That three and one makes always four; 
 That thunder is a rapid flame, 
 And beaux and monkies not the fame ; $ 
 
 * For thefe particulars of the Do&or's private ckarafter, the ' 
 public are indebted to Hawkins, Bofwell, and Piozzi. 
 
 f Vide Idler, No. 70. 
 
 t His definition of man is~" Not a voman not a bo/ <not 
 abcaft!" 
 
 D d iij
 
 31 8 SKETCHES OF CELEBRATED CHARACTERS. 
 
 That fucking infanta are not oW, 
 
 That chamber-pots were made for cleaning ; 
 That Jong andftort, and bot and cold 
 
 Arc words of very difPrent meaning j 
 That virgins don't begin to breed 
 Till once you rid them of their maidenhead. * 
 
 For feats like thefe, fagacious Bute 
 
 Gave him three hundred pounds a-year, 
 
 And 'tis a fa ft beyond difpute, 
 He bought his wages very dear ; 
 
 His book is large enough to crack 
 
 The flrongeft Irifli chairman's back. 
 
 In truth, as Parfon Horne obferv'd,t 
 
 His Spelling-Eook is fuch a bore, 
 As none half-learn'd, half-mad, half-ftarv'd 
 
 Gribaean ever hatch'd before. 
 Ah ! Bozzy, Bozzy, ihan't we fee 
 Some wooden vacancy for thee? 
 
 How fmartly might our fchool-boys drive 
 Their eggs about thy lantern jaws ? 
 
 And tofs, if Hodge be yet alive, 
 At that firm phiz her mangy paws ? 
 
 While, with clench'd fift, Hands Hefler by 
 
 To ftamp the yolks on either eye. 
 
 Heav'ns ! why has thy degraded name 
 Provok'd my fweetly temper'd pen ? 
 
 Are we to blend thy brazen fame 
 With that of thofe illuftricus men, ? 
 
 Compared to thine, thou literary wart, 
 
 Ifcariot play'd a manly part, 
 
 The cord attefled fhamc could touch bis heart. 
 
 * Virgin" A woman, not a mother." 
 f Vide ki Piyerfion* of Purlcy.
 
 ADVICE TO THE SEX. 319 
 
 No fon of Adam, not the heft, 
 
 A&s jufl as confidence would require ; 
 Yet Locke, and Swift^ and all the reft, 
 
 What Goth would {Vickie to admire, 
 And candour clofe ally'd to Jove 
 Will pity where ihe can't approve. 
 
 ADVICE TO THE SEX. 
 
 YE maids who are fick of the title ye bear, 
 Five minutes advice condefcend but to hear ; 
 And if ye take notice, and follow my plan, 
 Your manners may pleafe every fenfible man ; 
 And a cuftomer quickly be found for the toy, 
 Which affords you fuch endlefs vexation and joy. 
 
 One fault you moft own tempts the patience of boys, 
 You make one and all fuch a marvellous noife, 
 That if Death does not come to a huiband's relief, 
 The honey-moon trumpet may foon knock him deaf. 
 Ye would prate for the length of a mid-fummer day, 
 And what is yet worfe, you have nothing to fay. 
 
 You lively young virgins approaching fifteen, 
 Whofe little fond hearts heave a figh to be feen, 
 In the name of decorum forbear to perfume, 
 Or a delicate nofe muft retire from the room. 
 A healthy young lafs has a far better fmell, 
 Than all the vile train that the ilink-mongers fell. 
 
 As ye value your lover, forbear to difpute, 
 And if he's fond of talking, take care to be mute ; 
 Pretend to believe what is certainly true, * 
 That all your admirers have more fenfe than you. 
 When they leek your opinion be flow to decide, 
 'Tis becoming your fex, and it pleafes their pride. 
 
 * Dr. Swift, at leaft, was of this opinion. Stc his Letter to 
 Young Lady on her Marriage.
 
 320 ADVICE TO THE SEX. 
 
 But the plague of all is, your define to be fine. 
 Which out often maids is the mi(chief of nine. , 
 For every young wench, high and low, mufl be gawdy, 
 And ruftle in filk, and fet up for a lady ; 
 While Mifs, and Dear Madam commences the cant, 
 Her flomach fhould have, what her fhouldersfhculdwant. 
 
 I don't recommend the deteftable hags, 
 Who, as foon as they're married, go always in rags ; 
 Your laureat would hazard his vaft reputation, 
 Were he telling the fair to depart from the fafhion. 
 lie would only advife with a certain grave priefl, 
 That ye try to be in it, the laft, and the leaft. 
 He would likewife require, with the reverend Dean, 
 That your clothes and your perfons are perfectly clean, 
 Though your features be tawny, -yet ftiudder to paint, 
 So horrid a thought makes one ready to faint. 
 And O that the cockney had danc'd in a rope, 
 Who imported this freak from the Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 Though cuftom compels you to powder your hair, 
 Be as fure as ye can that no vagrants are there. 
 On this point forgive me for hinting a word, 
 The fcandal is .mockingly falfe and abfurd ; 
 'Tis your barbers, thofe rafcals, tell fo many lies, 
 B I fee the fweet blufhes of innocence rife. 
 
 All the rofes that bloom on a beautiful cheek, 
 If ye have not good nature, are dear of a leek ; 
 And if you proceed, juft as far as youVe able, 
 In refounding the flanders of every tea-table, 
 Though love had creeled his throne in your eye, 
 We dread the bafe tongue that delights in a lie. 
 
 This favour, at parting, I venture to beg, 
 As we fmile at the glance of a clean taper'd leg, 
 Cut a quarter, at leaft, from the length of each gown. 
 And, as oft as ye pleafe, make a garter flip. down. 
 But let not your bofoms be jutting and bare, 
 Nor repay a fond peep with an impudent ftare ; 
 May ye all by kind huflbands this evening be kifg'd^ 
 Nor an hour after fupper one virgin exift.
 
 PRESENT STATE OF PARNASSUS. 3J I 
 
 IN the following article, an allufion is made to a Letter 
 which gave occafion to it. For the fake of perfpicuity, 
 there is prefixed an extract from that letter, in fo far as 
 concerns the prefent fubjeft. 
 
 44 I fometimes think myfelf unlucky to have formed my 
 " tafle of Englifli poetry on the writings of four great 
 " mailers, in different flyle's, Shakefpeare, Milton, part 
 " of Dryden, and "Butler. They have not only the fire 
 " of , genius, a kind of infpiration, but a propriety and 
 44 force of expreffion, to which our flowery, figurative, 
 44 unmeaning, modern poetry has rarely any refemblance. 
 44 To this general cenfure, I do not think the pieces you 
 44 have juft now fent me, are liable. I am really much 
 44 pleafed with them. There is particularly in the fecondj 
 41 and in the laft, an unaffected eafe, propriety, and fig- 
 44 nificancy. 
 
 44 Works of great original genius have yielded little 
 44 profit to the authors, though, in fucceeding times, they 
 " have enriched the dulleft of critical editors and book- 
 44 fellers. ShakeTpeare made no fortune by his plays, and 
 44 Milton got lefs than twenty pounds for his Paradife 
 4t Loft. The ungrateful and worchlefs King Charles fur* 
 44 fered Butler to flarve. In our times, quaintnefs and od- 
 44 dity have a better chance to make a thriving author, 
 " than fenfe and tafle." 
 
 THE PRESENT STATE OF PARNASSUS. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO A LITERARY CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 HAT rare felicity, a verfe to write, 
 Which men of tafle with fondnefs may recite ? 
 More wit and fkill are wanted to compofe 
 One happy ftanza than whole meets of profe. 
 
 Departed health, an old excufe I plead, 
 For penning what, you'll likely fcorn to read.
 
 $22 PRESENT ,STATE OF PARNASSTT5, 
 
 A fick-bed docs not fuit the pleafing ftrain } 
 Forgive this final offspring of my brain. 
 Viaorious Death ! I feel thee corning fafl ; 
 But let thy viaim rally to* the lafl : 
 Where med'cine fails, amufement fhould be Tough. , 
 Though but to footh the miferies of thought j 
 When one is jult about to*be a clod, 
 Cenfure may fmile to fee him lift her rod. 
 
 Since both in Arts and Arms the prefent age, 
 Impartial admiration muft engage ; 
 And, burfling Error's chains, the vigorous mind 
 Throws every former effort far behind, 
 You afk, with feeming forrow and furprife, 
 " Why no fuch bards as Butler now arife, 
 " To paint the follies of the paffmg day, 
 " And force morofe enthufiafls to be gay ? 
 " No modern rivals Milton's pure fublime, 
 " Or Dryden's fweet fimplicity of rhyme ; 
 " His happy boldnefs, great without pretence, 
 * 4 His flrong inceffant flream of common fenfe. 
 " Our living Play-wrights likcwife are confefs'd 
 " To be but Shakefpeare's fliadows at the belt. 
 " No Brutus dignifies their vapid page, 
 " Their phantoms but exift upon the flage ; 
 " The language of the flews, perhaps rehearfe, 
 " Or elfe out-bedJam Bedlam in blank verfe." 
 
 Thus flands the fad, but then we muft allpw 
 Numbers were never leis efteem'd than now ; 
 And thofe who bear the patron's boafted name, 
 Of tafte, a folid fhare can feldom claim, 
 A juft conception beauties to difcern, 
 Knowledge to teach, or modefly to learn ; 
 And pedantry and quaintnefs oft obtain 
 That praife Buchanan might demand in vain. 
 
 But words, alas ! are all the great can fparc. 
 As if a poet could fubfifl on air. 
 Artifts, dear Sir, in every other trade, 
 For every piece of'work are duly paid* 1
 
 PRESENT STATE OF PARNASSTTS. J 
 
 What but bad verfes mould the world expert, 
 
 When rifing worth is Cure of grofs negledl ? 
 
 "What bar veil would the richeft acres yield 
 
 Did not the farmer cultivate his field ? 
 
 And who but madmen would manure a foil 
 
 Which cannot promife to reward their toil ? 
 
 Yet 'tis a vain young rhymer's common fate ' -\ 
 
 To burn his bundle, and be wife too late. 
 
 When fix fond prattlers for their food exclaim, 
 
 What fire would take the gift of Virgil's fame* 
 
 Domeftic eafe our happinefs muft found, 
 
 For all befides is nothing but a found. 
 
 Old, peevifh, poor, we to the duft defcend, 
 
 Without one veftige of a generous friend. 
 
 But thofe who, living, would not fpare us bread, 
 
 Illuflrate, publifh, and admire the dead. 
 
 Some reverend Do&or, with his long tail'd notes, 
 
 And damn'd corrections, each plain fentence blots : 
 
 Drench'd in his critic's filth, a writer lies, 
 
 From twelves diftorted to the folio (Ize. 
 
 Then fordid widows, as a work of right, 
 Expofe what never mould have feen the light; 
 Our clofet-frveepings to low printers fell, 
 And Memoirs next th precious cargo fwelL 
 
 Yet, though in life our profpe&s are o'ercaft. 
 All other human labours ours outlaft. 
 An actor's efforts with his breath expire, 
 And colours from the canvafs muft retire. 
 Of Rofcius we juft know what Tully fays ; 
 "No portraits of Appelles reach our days. 
 The fiddler who ftands foremoft in renown, 
 Succeeding fiddlers in their quavers drown ; 
 But Pindar's ode outlives the Doric lyre, 
 Yet ftern Tyrtseus fets each nerve on fire, 
 Warns the bold youth " his country's wrongs to feel, 
 u And rufli undaunted on the reeking fteel, 
 " To war's embattled van his front oppofe, 
 " Nor fhrink one foot-flep from an hofl of fos :
 
 $24 PRESENT STATE OF PAHNASSUS. 
 
 " But, breaft to breaft, repulfe the warrior's mock, 
 
 " Cleave the broad fhield, and give the fhorten'd ftroke.'' 
 
 His laurels, yet unfaded, Homer wears, 
 
 Frem from the havock of three thoufand years ; 
 
 And fhall, when Afric freezes at the Pole, 
 
 And Hecla's flames between the tropics roll.* 
 
 Of all the fatal vifions ere poffefs'd 
 A fcholar's mind, 'tis wilder than the reft, 
 To grafp each man of letters as his brother, 
 To dream .the fpecies truly love each other, 
 And fancy that the friend who fees your worth, 
 Will frankly try to draw each talent forth. 
 Though, otherwife, he mows an honed heart, 
 Refiftlefs paflions at this project ftart. 
 Pride views all mankind with malignant eyes, 
 And Envy fickens at a rivals rife. 
 " What ! fhall I pufh this upflart into view, 
 14 Who knows my fervice nothing but his due ? 
 u A dunce, for certain, ought to be preferred, 
 " Whom titles cannot raife above the herd." 
 
 Forward to purchafe an immortal name, 
 And hear their bounty fill the voice of fame, 
 The days have been when every rank of men 
 Were proud to patronize a claffic pen. 
 Thus Milton's toils the great Protector paid ; 
 Dryden, from Dorfet, found a father's aid : 
 His friend Southampton, Shakefpeare's wants fupply'd ; 
 A Templar buried Butler when he died. 
 But now the fit of patronage is paft, 
 And Spite and Scorn the budding poet blaft. 
 Let us, to Pity ere we fhall pretend, 
 Forget poor Chatterton's indignant end. 
 Trufl not that thofe who Walpole's meannefs mourn, 
 Will be one jot more generous in their turn. 
 That Grub for certain (hocks with worft negleft, 
 Who moft of all your merit mould refpcft. 
 
 * Philofopheri compote that twenty thouf and centuries are rc 
 tjuifite to accomplifh this revolution.
 
 FRESEMT STATE OP PARNASSOS, Ji.jf 
 
 JOn a fmall eminence by fortune plac'd, 
 With not one fpark of underflanding graced, 
 Obferve yon book worm who a chaife has gotj 
 By vending two trite quartos which he wrote. 
 He quarrels with old madam twice per hour, 
 And thrufls his gray-hair'd fervant to the door, 
 (A man, with whom he fpcnt his fchool-boy days} 
 As too infirm to drive the new-bought chaife. 
 Will fuch a cold hard-hearted coflive thin?;, 
 O'er infant Genius flretch a parent's wing; 
 His grace, whom endlefs fupplications fteel, 
 Has neither time to think, nor fenfe to feel. 
 
 'Tis really ftrange, for what capricious ends, 
 A vulgar man of wealth his income fpends ; 
 Where no true pleafure, profit, or renown, 
 Can tcnipt the fool to throw his money down. 
 By heaping ftones, one, eager to be great, 
 To build a palace, fquanders an eflate : 
 Another on his flable cafts away 
 The cafh, a third, flill worfe, confumes in play : 
 For game-cocks, hounds, and girls, another fighs, 
 Each cobler's vote the borough-member buys, 
 Sneaks through night-cellars with a fawning face, 
 And, if a patriot, rails at rogues in place ; 
 Bears the grofs belch from every porter's lungs, 
 And grofier outrage often thoufand tongues. 
 Others, by law, their fenfes undermine, 
 While foakers, to the glafs, felicity confine. 
 
 But thefe, and all the reft, alike refufe 
 To fhed fubftantial comfort on the Mufe : 
 When half their barber's wages would preferve 
 The wretch they flatter ftill that wretch muft flarve ; 
 Or, fome proud bookfeller's infulted flave, 
 Place his laft dream of hope beyond the grave ; 
 From ftale exiftence drain the vileft lees, 
 And envy every beggar whom he fees. 
 
 Yet, when he views Old England's prefent flats, 
 No more he marvels at injurious fate j 
 
 i EC-
 
 J26 PRESENT STATE OF PARNASSUS. 
 
 He learns that fenfe to folly bows her head, 
 That rank corruption hath our ifle o'erfpread; 
 That, of Augufta's cits, not half a fcore 
 Who get a wife, can want one bed-mate more ; 
 That half their ladies well deferv'd the flocks, 
 That half the town is rotten with the p ; 
 That, as for virgins with unfhatter'd ware, 
 The fphynx and unicorn are fcarce fo rare ; 
 At dice that ftatefmen condefcend to cheftt, 
 A prince with jockies joftle for a feat ; 
 That peers, for bruifing butchers, form a ring, 
 And prelates prefs to hear an eunuch fing ; 
 That dutchefles canvafs from ilreet to ftreet, 
 And fink five thoufand guineas on a treat ; 
 
 The cafe explain'd, no longer you'll inquire 
 For Satan's dignity or Richard's fire ; 
 Cecilia's Odes unrivall'd {hall remain, 
 Nor Butler's Quixote pound the bear again ; 
 The wife apply to more aufpicious fchools, 
 And leave the field of poetry to fools. 
 
 Then wonder not, my friend, that I refigtt 
 All correfpondence with the tuneful Nine ; 
 With me the days of vanity are paft, 
 Oh ! that my firfl attempt had been my laft. 
 The approbation of the learn'd and great, 
 Each bard's experience proves a bitter cheat. 
 Sec them admire, efteem, avoid the man, 
 And then fupprefs abhorrence if you can. 
 Moft happy he, foredoomed to hold his plows, 
 To plant his cabbages, and feed his cows ; 
 Who glad to feize one moment for his own, 
 Along the mofly turf can lay him down ; 
 And, as his lambs are fporting by his fide, 
 Smiles at the littlenefs of letter'd pride. 
 
 While honeft fcorn provokes me to defcribe 
 The wonted bafenefs of the patron-tribe ;
 
 JiiTRODOCTORT VEHSES TO THE FRANCISCANS, ^f 
 
 One worthy man is deftin'd to remain, 
 To whom misfortune never fu'd in vain ; 
 In whom good fenfe and tendernefs confpire, 
 And cool reflection fans the noblefl fire. 
 He, to fupport the poor, fpends all his days, 
 Envy, -for him, ia prodigal of praife: 
 He did true Genius ilrike an orphan bard, 
 Hath tafte to feel, and juftice to reward } 
 While fome fage friends of learning fcarce allow 
 A monthly breakfaft, and a civil bow. 
 
 Might he with thefe unhappy verfes bear, 
 My proudeft wifh is but to fuit his ear ; 
 T amufe the landlord of my little farm 
 Would force exiftence,. though in age, to charm'. 
 Weak Hope, adieu! thefe nerves convulfe with pain,. 
 And mortal ficknefs (hoots through every vein ; 
 By cares, infirmities, and years opprefs'd, 
 The long-toil'd intellect retires to reft* 
 
 INTRODUCTOTY VERSES TO THE FRANCISCAN: 
 
 FROM THE LATIN OF BTJCHAWAH. 
 
 WHY knit your brows, dear Frank, in fuch a frown. 
 As if you thought one glance would knock us down } 
 What mean you by that grave affe&cd ftalk, 
 That drawling, dull, lolemnity of talk ! 
 No jeft, no adage, animates your ftyle, 
 Have human follies ceas'd to make you fmile ? 
 Go pare your nails, and clean your face from dirty 
 And comb your hair, and buy a decent fhirt : 
 You fay race-horfes fhould be taught to plow, 
 And cocks on dung-hiils die in peace for you : 
 Nor can by dice y our faintfhip be delay'd, 
 Nor bear the prattle of an amorous maid, 
 
 E e 5 j
 
 328 INTRODUCTORY YEESES TO THE FRANCISCANS, 
 
 "Nor in the falmon's murther feel delight, 
 Nor for the pheafant ftrain your aching fi ,ht, 
 [Nor from your greyhound force the hare to fly, 
 Kor fhoot the hawk, that Nimrod of the iky, 
 ^or pierce the bofom of the bounding deer, 
 Nor turn the tyger's terrible carreer. 
 To Paratiife you take the fhorteft way, 
 You fcourge your back, and fail, and preach, a 
 You fnore on fackcloth, on a herring feaft, 
 How pleafant, how fub-lime to be a priefl ! 
 
 "Who but muft murmur at this fcene of ftrife, 
 This dark and defpicable farce of life j 
 Where filly hopes, and filly fears, alike 
 At the frail bafis of contentment flrike ; 
 Where hours of joy embitter years of pain, 
 And genius toils and virtue foars in vain : 
 Where dear bought wifdom warns us all to trace j 
 A knave, or fool, in every Granger's face ; 
 Where few or none pure innocence can boaft, 
 For what the head acquires, the heart has loft ; 
 Where men of fenfe will feldom dare to fay, 
 beir lajl night's friend continues fucb to day* 
 When in my fancy thefe trite truths combine, 
 This worthlefs world I purpofe to refign ; 
 And hufband what remains of precious time, 
 To make amends for every former crime. 
 My earlier tale, with honefl grief I hear, 
 And many a frantic feat demands a tear. 
 Oft I for trifles into fury blaz'd, 
 Some fools I flatter'd, and fome rafcals prais'd ; 
 My levity has told a thoufand Iks ; 
 Still more renecVion, more remorfe fupplies. 
 
 But ah I how calm and happy fhall I be, 
 From all terreflrial cares for ever free ; 
 When belted with a cord, I fliave my crown, 
 And, on the fordid great, look fourly down ; 
 When under your directions I retire, 
 And feel each wiOi for wealth and fame expire ;
 
 CONCLflSIOS OF THE FIRST BOOK DE SPHAERA. 329 
 
 In counting beads each morning hour beflow, 
 And hear at eve celeftial anthems flow ; 
 Bend the bare pious knee before a flonc, 
 Or kifs the fragment of a martyr's bone. 
 
 CONCLUSION OF THE FIRST BOOK DE SPHJERA. 
 
 FROM THE LATIN OF BUCHANAN. 
 
 OBSERVE yon fun whofe beams enlighten all, 
 How far his bulk exceeds our earthly ball I 
 Yet while he rolls above the wint'ry blaft, 
 Even he fo mighty, luminous, and vaft, 
 Appears, could we depend on mortal eyes, 
 Hardly to fill twelve inches of the ikies. 
 But if his everlafling fource of light 
 Fades to fuch fcanty limits in our fight,^ 
 Could Phoebus to our care, as Ovid feigns, 
 For one adventrous day refign the reins, 
 When glancing from on high, how fmall a clod. 
 If viiible to all, would feem our own abode ? 
 The huge abyfs round which cold Saturn's driven, 
 Is but a fpan in the expanfe of heaven. 
 Our globe is like a molehill to the fun ; 
 Himfelf but faintly fees how wide his planets run j 
 And the whole fyftem, as they fweep along, 
 Form but an atom in the ftai ry throng. 
 
 How narrow at the mod our parent earth, 
 Which gives to man, to beafls, and birds, their birth ! 
 Even of this orb we vainly call our own, 
 How large a fpace unfathom'd oceans drown! 
 Thrpiv.ii the firm boiom. of Gibraltar's rock, 
 With what tremendous force the furges broke, 
 When firil on Libyan fliores the deluge hurl'd, 
 And fever'd from our own the Southern world. 
 Add that which beats around Arabia's coaft, 
 Aud the wide wildernefs Columbus crofs'd. 
 
 Eeiij
 
 330 COKCLUSIOX OF THE FIRST BOOK DE SFHAERA. 
 
 Here Sodom's lake a deadly flench exhales, 
 
 There Holland's marfhes bury half her vales ; 
 
 Now the fierce Danube tears whole woods alongj 
 
 Then bids in noifome bogs, his billows throng. 
 
 O'erflow'd or undermin'd on every fide, 
 
 Like a fmall ifle aflaulted by the tide, 
 
 Or folitary cliff, the land remains, 
 
 "While the flood revels o'er unbounded plains. 
 
 Even of thofe fliatter'd fragments undeflroy'd, 
 
 How vafl a fhare prefents a frightful void ? 
 
 Clad in eternal fnow, an Alps afcends ; 
 
 An ice-bound wafle from either pole extends. 
 
 A Zaara's Hery fands in waves arife, 
 
 A Siam's rich domain an ufelefs defart lies. 
 
 The verdant tree prefents her poifon'd fruits, 
 
 From flow'ry beds, the favage tyger fhoots ; 
 
 The bear, th' embattled wolf blockades your way, 
 
 The giant crocodile arrefls his prey. 
 
 Here from green ocean, while the fhark invades, 
 
 There the fell fnake fweeps through the fylvan {hades; 
 
 Lo ! the red light'ning furrows up the ground, 
 
 Down yawning earth defcends the rocky mound. 
 
 Difeafe embodied in ten thoul'and forms, 
 
 Each tortur'd nerve of fainting nature florms. 
 
 Incefiant agonies exhaufl the mind, 
 
 And leave a fage the hindmoft of his kind. 
 
 To fwell the mad profufion of a crown, 
 
 By floth, and lufl, and luxury, o'ergrown j 
 
 To clear a jockey's or a fiddler's claim, 
 
 Or deck a ducal fyren for the game, 
 
 Our rights to bribe a fenate to deflroy, 
 
 Or whet the vices of a bankrupt boy, 
 
 Lo ! D&mons of Excife, a ghaftly band, 
 
 Like Egypt's locufls defolate a land ; 
 
 While blafled penfioners their progrefs write, 
 
 And tugging our tithe-pigs with all their might, 
 
 Yfhile pamper'd priefls aflure us black is white.
 
 CONCLUSION OT THE FIRST BOOK DE SPHAERA. 2$ 
 
 Difaftrous truths ! too known to be deny'd, 
 
 How piteous then the farce of human pride ! 
 
 How fhort the lapfe of years, how flrait the bounds 
 
 Through which ambition hunts for empty founds ; 
 
 Fear trembles, difcord rages, forrow mourns, 
 
 And thanklefs wealth dependent friendfhip fpurns; 
 
 Law, phyfic, pcflilence, and fire and fword. 
 
 Church, gauger, king, o'envhelm a planet's puny lord I 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 7, line i^th from the bottom, read yaur partf. 
 Page 30, line 2d from the top, read an occafional epikguf. 
 Page 147, line i6th from Jhe bottom, read tafte or capacity. 
 Page 156, line 7th from the bottom, read ether quacks. 
 Page 160, line 7th from the bottom, read in this/wwz. 
 Page i6r, line jd from the bottom, read ferious and comical. 
 Page 162, line ^th from the bottom, read fcriptore*. 
 Page 167, line i8th from the top, add, particularly in tbefe t'Mt 
 
 plays. 
 
 Page 19-,, line I4th from the botom, read on every. 
 Page 209, line 3d from the bottom, read this venerable vurittr* 
 Page 273, line ad from the bottom, read lie dicif. 
 Page 286, line 3d from the bottom, dele the words of life.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 >AGE. 
 
 THE progrefs of virginity, a tale, 5 
 
 Peculiar difadvantages of a modern poet, 8 
 
 On good nature, n 
 
 Jufiter and the frogs, a talc, 13 
 
 All's well that ends well, 14 
 
 On the death of a friend, 16 
 
 A poetical profpeft, 18 
 
 The volunteer, 20 
 The dignity of human nature, or a paneygyric upon the 
 
 world, 21 
 The magpie, a tale for the critics, 24. 
 On the lofs of ancient literature, 26 
 Horace, book i. ode i. 27 
 An occasional epilogue to the tragedy of Douglas, 30 
 Prologue, on the falling of the gallery of Dumfries The- 
 atre, on the 1 4th June 1780, 31 
 Verf^s written in a fine fummer morning, 32 
 Prickle, a character, 33 
 Common fenfe, 34 
 The prirnum mobile, 35 
 On the diverfitics of life, ib. 
 To the male virgins, 3g 
 On poetical fame, 40 
 An index to female virtue, 41 
 All for the beil, 44 
 The progrefs of moral fenubility, 4j 
 Ocle to innocence, from the Latin of Secundus, 47 
 Ode to fleep, from the fame, 48 
 From the fame, 45 
 The pulpit orator, 50 
 December, a panegyric, ji 
 Venes infcnbed to John Hamilton, Archbifhop of St. 
 
 Andrew's, from thg Latin of Buchanan, 53 
 
 An epitaph, ib,
 
 CONTENTS. 333- 
 FACE. 
 
 To the Printer of the Bath Chronicle, 54 
 
 On the Merchant of Venice, 56 
 
 On the new fettlemen-t of Botany Bay, 57 
 
 On Allan Ramfay, 60 
 The law-fuit, a tale from Bueharfan, lib. i. epig. i. 63 
 
 On the character of a wife, 64 
 
 On reading the memoirs of Frederick III. 67 
 
 On nothing, 69 
 
 The winter day, or a profpeft of life, 70 
 
 Buchanan, lib. 3. epig. i. 74 
 
 Horace, lib. 3. ode 26. ib. 
 
 An elegy, from the Latin of Politian^ 75 
 
 A hint for country gentlemen) 77 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode i. ib. 
 
 : lib. i. ode 2. 79 
 
 lib. i. ode 3. o 
 
 The monitor, 84 
 
 On Shakefpeare, 85 
 
 Verfes on friendihip, 88 
 
 On David Hume, Efq. $6 
 
 On the vanity of ambition, ib 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 4. 98 
 
 "i lib. i. ode 5. 99 
 
 On reading the Beaux Stratagem, 100 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 6. ib 
 
 On the power of wealth, 102 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 7. 103 
 
 On frugality, 104 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 8. i6 
 
 On popery, 107 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode n. 109 
 
 .... .-- lib. i. ode 1 6. ib. 
 
 - ~ lib. i. epitl. 4. in 
 
 On Julius Czfar, na 
 
 The progreis of liberty, 113 
 
 On Dryden, 1 1 J 
 
 The wife man, ib.
 
 334 CONTENTS* 
 
 FACE. 
 
 Hemarlcs on Englifh plays, 117 
 
 . Remarks on Young's Night Thoughts, 157 
 On the Life of Samuel Johnfon, L. L. D. by James 
 
 Bofwell, Efq. 163 
 
 On Philip Maflinger, 165 
 
 The friend, ancient and modern, 169 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 18. 173 
 
 - - lib. i. ode ij. 175 
 
 The comforts of marriage, a tale r ib. 
 
 Theocritus, idyllium 30. i 77 
 
 A trite truth, 175 
 
 The world as it goes, iRo 
 
 The philofopher, ifia 
 
 The fairy queen, a tale, 184 
 
 Strut, a character, 192 
 
 On the novels of Dr. Smollet, .. 194 
 
 Political queries, 195 
 
 On female frailty, 198 
 
 On hard drinking,. i gg 
 
 -A fragment, ib. 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 27. aoo 
 A parallel between riches and poverty, from the 
 
 Greek of Rhianus, 201 
 
 Nothing new, 202 
 Ci itical remarks on fome of the moft eminent hiflo 
 
 rians of England, v 203 
 
 Horace, lib. j. epode 15. 210 
 
 The progrefs of merit, 211 
 
 Horace, lib. 4. ode 9. 216 
 
 On idlenefs, 217 
 
 Ou wrangling, 218 
 
 A dream, from the Latin of Buchanan, 219 
 
 On the abufe of time, '221 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 29. 223 
 
 Horace, lib. i. ode 33. 225 
 
 The patriot, 226 
 
 On the importance and origin of drefs, 232
 
 CONTEST*. 335 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Horace, lib. 2. ode 4. 234. 
 
 The newfpaper, or a peep at the literary world, 235 
 
 A charadler, 244 
 Memoirs of the life, chara&cr, and writings of George < 
 
 Buchanan, 247 
 Horace, lib. 2. ode 13. 287 
 On winter, 289 
 A view of fociety in the Couth of Europe, 290 
 Horace, lib. 4. ode 7. 293 
 On poetry, 293 
 Epitaph, imitated from Buchanan, 298 
 The farewell, from the Latin of Secundus, 3op 
 from the fame, 301 
 From the fame, ib. 
 From the fame, 302 
 Horace, lib. i. epift. 2. ib. 
 Sketches of celebrated characters, ancient and modern, 307 
 Advice to the fex, 319 
 The prefent flate of Parnaflus, gzi 
 Introductory verfes to the Francifcan, a poem, 327 
 *Conclufion of the firfl book De Sphasra, from the La- 
 tin of Buchanan, 395
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 BUCHANAX is one of thofe few happy writers of verfe 
 wliofe power of pleafmg remains undiminimed by the lapfc 
 of ages. Yet while the Engliih nation are inceflantly pub- 
 lifhing the mofl elegant and fplendid editions of their im- 
 mortal Shakefpeare, it is painful and humiliating for a 
 North Briton to reflect that the original poems of Buchan- 
 an, the favourite, not of this country alone, but of Europe, 
 have remained unprinted in a Scottifh prefs for feventy- 
 Cx years. This negleft arifes not from our want of mo- 
 ney, for we are daily printing whole libraries on every 
 fubjed. It ought not to be from our want of tafle, fince 
 we have deafened both ourfelves and our neighbours with 
 volumes of metaphyfical criticifm. The caufe of this par- 
 tial oblivion has already been mentioned [p. 286.], and 
 the Editor begs leave to fuggefl an eafy and effectual me- 
 thod to remove it. 
 
 The Reader has already had opportunities of obferving 
 how the poetry of Buchanan appears in the drefs of Eng- 
 lifh profe. A complete tranflation of his original poems, 
 on this plan, would render the Latin text perfectly intel- 
 ligible to the mofl carelefs fludent. A few notes might be 
 convenient; though to an author fo remarkably perfpicu- 
 ous, they could not be termed neceflary, Thefe, toge- 
 ther with the text, and propofed verflon, might be com- 
 prifed within two oftavo volumes of about the fame fize 
 with that elegant edition of the poems of Offian, lately 
 publifhed by the printer of this volume. On this fubjedl 
 he has already had the honour of converfing with feveral 
 gentlemen who have agreed to fubfcribe on the mofl libe- 
 ral terms. But before lie engages ferioufly in an under- 
 taking fo laborious and expenfive, he wimes to learn the 
 general opinion of the public. He is aware of the diffi- 
 culty of producing a popular work of this nature*; but if 
 fuitable encouragement mall be offered, his fubfcribers may 
 dependjon thefincerity ofhiswifhes to deferve their appro- 
 bation, and the vigour of his exertions to acquire it. 
 
 Vide an Effay on the Principles of Tranflation, lately publillied, a per* 
 {nuance which contains both curious information, and ufcful iiiftructian.
 
 University of California 
 
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 Return this material to the library 
 
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