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 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 SOUTHERN BRANCH, 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, 
 
 LIBRARY, 
 
 iLDS ANGELES, CALiF.
 
 /•
 
 THE R'^ H®J^?^^ 
 
 SIR CHATRI.KS H:AITBU]RYiriL]LIAMS,E:.Bo 
 
 Irem tk/' cri^i///i/ /// Ifofland Hoasf . 
 
 FubU'sh^d as tfte Act directs May 2p,JSZ2.
 
 THE WORKS, 
 
 OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 SIR CHAS. HAIVBURY WILLIAMS, K.B. 
 
 AMBASSADOR TO THE COURTS OF RUSSIA, SAXONY, &c. 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINALS 
 
 IN THE POSSESSION OF HIS GRANDSON 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF ESSEX : 
 
 WITH NOTES BY 
 HORACE WALPOLE, EARL OF ORFORD. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, WITH PORTRAITS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 EDWARD JEFFERY AND SON, PALL-MALL. 
 
 1822.
 
 T. C. Hansard, Printer, 
 Peterboro'-court, Fleet-street, London.
 
 r 
 
 
 k PREFACE. 
 
 1 A 
 
 ^\^ 
 
 ^.J. 
 
 A PREFACE, in the usual style of prefaces, 
 to the Works of Sir Charles Hanbury WiUiams 
 ■^ would be unnecessary ; perhaps, in more senses 
 than one, even impertinent. The simplicity of 
 his character, and of the character of his writ- 
 ings, present formidable obstacles to the grave 
 
 V ceremony with which those portals to new and 
 
 V unexpected publications are generally raised, 
 ^ and set at nought the customary arrangement 
 
 of their usual cumbrous decorations. A literary 
 career without labour, and a political life with- 
 out intrigue, furnish little ground for narration, 
 and less for conjecture ; and common-place 
 criticism could with difficulty find employment 
 on the works of one who drew solely from the 
 sparkling sources of his own lively mind and
 
 VI 
 
 temper. Something, however, is due to the 
 memory of this accompHshed person, and much 
 indeed from the Editor of the following sheets 
 to the eminent persons through whose gene- 
 rosity he is enabled to lay them before the 
 public. It is in this place only that these 
 duties can be properly discharged. 
 
 The Author, then, was the third of the five 
 sons of John Hanbury, of Pontypool Park, in 
 the county of Monmouth, a descendant of the 
 ancient Worcestershire family of his name, and 
 representative in several parliaments for the 
 city of Gloucester, by Albina, daughter of John 
 Selwyn, of Matson, in the latter county. He 
 was born in 1709, and having completed an 
 education of the best sort, which commenced 
 at Eton, made the usual foreign tour with all 
 the profit which might be expected from his 
 genius. These advantages, which at that time 
 were seldom bestowed on younger sons, arose 
 from a circumstance of some singularity, 
 through which he became possessed of a
 
 vu 
 
 considerable fortune in his childliood. Charles 
 Williams, of Caerleon, his father's neigh- 
 bour, having killed a person in a fray, fled 
 to the continent, and, having on his return, 
 many years after, received from Mr. Hanbury 
 that friendship and countenance which his mis- 
 fortune had probably induced others to deny 
 him, bequeathed to the young Charles, to 
 whom he had been godfather, the most part 
 of his property, to the amount of more than 
 seventy thousand pounds, conditionally, that it 
 should be laid out in the purchase of estates ; 
 and that the legatee should assume the surname 
 and arms of Williams. This gentleman died in 
 1720, and Charles, who returned to England 
 when he came of age, complied with the con- 
 dition ; took possession of the purchased 
 estates, and of others which his father had 
 bought for him ; and in 1732 married the Lady 
 Frances, youngest of the daughters and co-heirs 
 of Thomas Earl Coningsby. 
 
 His father died in the following year ; and he
 
 Vlll 
 
 was soon after returned to serve in parliament 
 for the county of Monmouth. The Uvely 
 acuteness of his talents, the elegancy of his 
 manners, and an incessant gaiety of heart, had 
 already endeared him to a class, at that time 
 rather numerous, of eminent men, who de- 
 lighted in retreating from political labour and 
 party agitation to a social privacy into which 
 only wit and good-humour were admitted. 
 Among these was sir Robert Walpole, who, re- 
 garding him with the eye at once of a states- 
 man, a critic, and a friend, fixed him firmly in 
 the support of that line of pubhc conduct to 
 which he was perhaps already well disposed. 
 He engaoed with all the warmth which belonged 
 to his character, and his regard for the minister 
 was cemented by his affection to the man. 
 That his motives were disinterested may be 
 fairly inferred from the fact that he held for 
 many years no public office but the pitiful one 
 of paymaster of the marines, and to that he was 
 not appointed till 1739.
 
 IX 
 
 He took no active share in ministerial affairs, 
 and is said to have spoken but twice in parUa- 
 raent ; and then shortly, and on matters of no 
 great moment. Indeed, he was too volatile for 
 a counsellor, and too honourable for the tricks 
 of party ; the wit and bitter satire, however, 
 which flowed from his pen, in a stream appa- 
 rently of careless gaiety, rendered him a very 
 important ally ; nor did he confine the exercise 
 of those talents to the censure of public men 
 and measures, but frequently attacked with 
 equal severity the faults and foibles of domestic 
 conduct. The consequences of one of these 
 flights of poetical intemperance,* on the mar- 
 riage of Isabella, Dowager duchess of Man- 
 chester, to Mr. Hussey, afterwards Lord Beau- 
 lieu, caused him great and deserved vexation. 
 That gentleman, whose reputation for personal 
 courage was fortunately already w'ell established. 
 
 • Vol. I. p. 90.
 
 treated the injury with silent disdain ; but his 
 countrymen, the Irish, burst into a flame of 
 ano-er, and many of them pledged themselves 
 to each other individually to provoke the 
 offender to the field by repeated aifronts. He 
 is said (and in terms from which it might be 
 inferred that he wanted resolution to defend 
 himself), to have retired for a considerable time, 
 to avoid this danger, but whither did he retire ? 
 To his house in Wales, within a day's journey 
 of London. The truth is, that his carelessness 
 of the event seems to have been not less re- 
 markable than his imprudence in the cause. 
 The right hon. Henry Fox, to whom the offen- 
 sive poem had been addressed, and between 
 whom and himself the most cordial attachment 
 subsisted, mentioning these matters somewhat 
 at large in a letter to him of the 6th of Septem- 
 ber 1746, says, "you may laugh at all this, but 
 I do assure you, at the same time, that every 
 body ridicules and condemns it ; your serious
 
 XI 
 
 friends, and I in the first place, think it puts 
 you in a disagreeable situation, and I am heartily 
 and excessively concerned about it." 
 
 These heats, however, subsided without 
 bloodshed, and he was in the same year 
 installed a Knight of the Bath ; appointed 
 envoy to the elector of Saxony (king of Poland) 
 and of course sworn of the privy council. 
 " He had thrown up his place," says Lord 
 Orford, in his Memoirs lately pubhshed, " on 
 some disgusts ; the loss of Mr. Winnington, 
 and a quarrel with the Irish, occasioned by an 
 Ode which he wrote on the marriage of the 
 duchess of Manchester and Mr. Hussey,fomented 
 by Lord Bath and his enemies, and supported 
 with too little spirit,* had driven him to shelter 
 his discontents in a foreign embassy, where 
 he displayed great talents for negotiation, and 
 pleased as much by his letters as he had for- 
 merly done by his poetry." 
 
 • By whom ? —Lord O. cannot mean by sir Charles, for 
 he was in fact neither challenged nor insulted.
 
 Xll 
 
 This success in a new character fixed the 
 destiny of his future life, which was passed ably, 
 though not always successfully, in continental 
 diplomacy. In the spring of 1750, at the in- 
 stance of Mr. Fox, he was named envoy extra- 
 ordinary to Berlin, from whence he made an 
 excursion to Warsaw, to engage the vote of the 
 king of Poland, who was then holding the Diet 
 there, for the archduke Joseph to be king of 
 the Romans. He had the good fortune, about 
 the same time, to become the chief instrument 
 in reconciling the empresses of Germany and 
 Russia ; but, during this absence, a change of 
 politics, together with some personal disgust in 
 the mind of the king of Prussia, excited by the 
 discovery of certain freedoms which he had 
 used in descanting in his dispatches on the sin- 
 gularities of that prince's character and con- 
 duct, induced Frederick to receive him with 
 extreme coldness. This ill disposition daily 
 increased, and at length rendered his situation 
 intolerable. He was, at his own request, re-
 
 XIU 
 
 called ; sent again to Dresden in February 
 1751 ; and during his residence there transacted 
 some important affairs at the Imperial Court 
 with credit and success. 
 
 After an absence of more than two years 
 he returned, for a time, to England, but was 
 presently once more dispatched to the Saxon 
 Court. In 1 754, he attended the king to Poland, 
 where his attachment to the interests of the 
 family of Poniatowski, the heir of which was 
 not long after elected to the Polish throne, pro- 
 duced an irreparable quarrel between himself 
 and Count Bruhl, the favourite Saxon minister. 
 This event terminated his mission to the court 
 of Dresden, and the designs of France, in con- 
 cert with the king of Prussia, on the electorate 
 of Hanover having induced the English cabinet 
 to form the design for a triple alhance between 
 Great Britain, Austria, and Russia, Sir Charles 
 was sent to St. Petersburgh, with instructions to 
 use his utmost endeavours to further the plan 
 at that court.
 
 XIV 
 
 The wit, the elegant acquirements, and the 
 frank good-humour of the new ambassador at 
 once charmed a serai-barbarous court. He had 
 the advantage of succeeding a dull and ineffi- 
 cient minister, and the voluptuous Elizabeth, 
 and her great officers seemed to contend for 
 the delight of serving or pleasing him. 
 
 Within six weeks after his arrival at St. 
 Petersburgh, a celerity almost unexampled in 
 such negotiations ; he obtained the signature of 
 the empress to the convention, transmitted it 
 to Hanover, where George the second, in his 
 anxiety for the success of the treaty, had planted 
 himself with his secretary of state to forward 
 its progress ; and, after long waiting, received 
 in answer, instead of the approbation with 
 which he had very reasonably flattered himself, 
 a cold letter, in which, while his services in the 
 negotiation were scarcely recognised, he was 
 blamed with severity for having neglected some 
 mere forms in the conduct of it. This singular 
 conduct did not long remain unexplained : he
 
 XV 
 
 had no sooner quitted England than it was 
 discovered that the empress Maria Theresa had 
 been induced by her fears of the power and 
 activity of the king of Prussia, to withdraw her- 
 self silently from the Convention, while Frede- 
 rick, on his part, had secretly offered terms to 
 England, which George's ministers had eagerly 
 accepted. 
 
 Sir Charles now received orders to re-open 
 the Convention on principles in many respects 
 directly opposite to those which he had so 
 lately proposed. An object of ridicule at St. 
 Petersburgh, and of unjust displeasure at home, 
 he solicited with earnestness to be recalled, 
 when the king of Prussia, from some views of 
 a new policy, suggested by the altered com- 
 plexion of affairs, desired that he might be con- 
 tinued at his post, and tlie permission of his 
 own sovereign to return was accompanied by 
 an expression, in very gracious terms, of the 
 same inclination. Touched by this unexpected 
 condescension, he remained for several weeks
 
 XVI 
 
 at St. Petersburgh, vainly endeavouring to de- 
 tach the empress from the coaUtion v^^hich she 
 had determined to form with Austria and 
 France; when his health suddenly failed, the 
 powers of his mind evidently became debilitated ; 
 and he resolved to return in the autumn of 
 1757 without delay to England. 
 
 During his journey, these disorders rapidly 
 increased, and at Hamburgh, he was clearly in 
 a state of insanity ; was entrapped there by a 
 wretched female, who prevailed on him to give 
 her a security for two thousand pounds, and a 
 promise of marriage, his lady being still living. 
 On his sea voyage, he had a dangerous fall into 
 the hold of the ship, and the copious bleedings 
 which were deemed necessary on that account 
 probably reheved the distraction of his intellect. 
 Soon after his arrival, he seemed to be perfectly 
 recovered : retired to his Monmouthshire man- 
 sion, Coldbrook-house \ and resumed his former 
 amusements there with pleasure, and even with 
 energy. We have a letter from him to his
 
 xvu 
 
 friend Mr. Keith, written there during this in- 
 terval, in which, while he rescues the character 
 of an admirable woman from obUvion, he quits 
 those of the wit and the statesman to delight 
 our feelings as the father and the friend. 
 
 " By a letter," says he, " which I wrote to 
 Baron Wolfe some time ago, and which I don't 
 doubt he showed you, you have been informed 
 already of the wretched state of my health 
 both at Hamburgh and since my return to Eng- 
 land; but I am now as perfectly well as ever I 
 was in my life, and improving this charmino- 
 place, where I hope to see you one day, to 
 talk over things that nobody but you and I in 
 England understand. My beloved Lady Essex, 
 who, I assure you, has a great friendship for 
 you, and who I believe esteems you as much as 
 any man in the world who is not of her own 
 family, will, I hope, be very soon here, to 
 pass away the best part of the Summer with 
 me. I leave you to imagine ray happiness in 
 seeing her to behold what I love much the 
 best in the world endowed with every exterior 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 XVlll 
 
 charm, and an inside that at least equals her 
 beautiful person. Her knowledge of the court 
 and of the world is prodigious. She has aiany 
 acquaintances among her own sex, and two of 
 the most exemplary women we have in England 
 for her friends — I mean Lady Caroline Fox, 
 and the Countess of Dalkeith. She is distin- 
 guished more than any woman that comes to 
 court by the king, and for good breeding and 
 good sense has hardly her equal in England ; 
 but one thing, which perhaps you don't know 
 about her, is that she shines full as much in 
 the character of a good housewife as she does in 
 that of a fine lady ; and that all the accounts 
 of my lord's estates, and the expenses of his 
 house, are neatly kept in books by her own 
 hand. In short, she has exceeded all my hopes, 
 and requited my fondest wishes about her; and 
 I will not imagine this description to be tedious 
 to you, because I am sure the friend will feel 
 and read with pleasure what the father feels 
 with transport, and writes with truth." 
 
 This period of a tranquilhty which he had 
 never before enjoyed, and of his capacity to
 
 XJX 
 
 enjoy which, he had perhaps been hitherto un- 
 conscious, was very brief indeed. In the Sum- 
 mer of 1759 his reason again forsook him, and 
 he died in that deplorable state, it has been 
 said by his own hand, on the second of Novem- 
 ber in that year. 
 
 Sir Charles Hanbury Williams left two 
 daughters, his co-heirs. Frances, whose cha- 
 racter we have just now seen, married to Wil- 
 hara Anne Holies Capel, fourth Earl of Essex of 
 his family ; and Charlotte, wife to the Hon. 
 Robert Boyle Walsingham, a commodore in 
 the navy,* fifth and youngest son of Henry, first 
 Earl of Shannon of the second creation. 
 
 It is through the favour of the noble heir of 
 the former of those marriages, the present Earl 
 of Essex, and of the Right Hon. Henry Vassall, 
 Lord Holland, that the Editor is now enabled 
 to lay these sheets before the pubhc. A great 
 mass of the original papers of Sir Charles Han- 
 
 * Who was uiifortanately lost in the West Indies in 177f), 
 on board the Thunderer of 7t guns : the whole of the crew 
 perished.
 
 XX 
 
 bury Williams fell, by inheritance, into pos- 
 session of the noble Earl, who, with that libe- 
 rality which attends on every act of his life, has 
 permitted the Editor to select from them the 
 poetical pieces which appear in these Volumes. 
 From the numerous literary relics remaining in 
 the hands of Lord Holland, of the entire friend- 
 ship and confidence which subsisted between 
 Sir Charles and the Right Hon. Henry Fox, his 
 Lordship has been pleased to allow him to en- 
 rich his book with the curious historical epis- 
 tles on the state of Poland, and many other 
 original Letters ; and to add also a multiplicity 
 of Notes from the pen of all others the most 
 capable of illustrating the localities of such a 
 writer as Sir Charles Hanbury Williams — the 
 pen of Horace Walpole. To those noble per- 
 sons the Editor presumes thus to offer his most 
 humble and grateful acknowledgments for this 
 addition to the innumerable favours and benefits 
 with which their Lordships have already been 
 pleased to honour him.
 
 XXI 
 
 [Siyice this Preface was written, the kindness of the 
 Earl of Essex, and other relatives of the family 
 of Sir C. H. Williams, have furnished the pub- 
 lisher with much more curious and perfectly ori- 
 ginal matter, this will be formed into an addi- 
 tional Volume as soon as the necessary arrangement 
 will permit. 
 
 In the Portrait of Sir Robert Walpole it will be 
 observed, that the Garter appears on the wrojig 
 side ; however, it was necessary to follow the 
 drawing, which ivas by Arthur Pond, Esq., and 
 which had been before copied, in the same manner, 
 by that excellent artist, Mr. Houbracken.] 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 /'7^ 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 TO VOL. I. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Duke of Newcastle— a Tale, beginning with " A 
 Lion who o'er all the plain " 1 
 
 An Ode to the Duke of Argyle — " Let loftier Poets 
 stretch the Wing "( 14 
 
 Argyle's Decampment — " When Argyle would not go 
 to Camp " 17 
 
 A Grub upon li\ib— " Good People draw near and at- 
 tend to my Song " 25 
 
 Lines written in December, 1741 — " LTnhappy Eng- 
 land still in Forty-one " 28 
 
 GUes Earle and Bubb Doddington — A Dialogue, " My 
 dear Pall- Mall I hear you 're got in favour " 30 
 
 Peter and my Lord Quidam— " Peter I 've sign'd and 
 «eal'd, the work is done " 37 
 
 A Political Eclogue— " The Meeting o'er, the com- 
 promise deny'd 61 
 
 Isabella, or the Morning — " The Monkey, Lap-dog, 
 Parrot, and her Grace " 72 
 
 An Ode to the Right Hon. Henry Fox—" Clio behold 
 this glorious day " 90 
 
 An Ode to the Author of the Conquer'd Duchess — 
 " What clamour 's here about a Dame " 94
 
 xxu 
 
 Page 
 
 The Patriot Parrot — " A Zealous Patriot had a parrot 
 taught " 214 
 
 An Epitaph on the Earl of Bach — " Pultney no friend 
 to truth, in fraud sincere " 216 
 
 A Ballad to the Earl of Bath— " 'Twasin the hour when 
 guiltless care " 217 
 
 On the arrival of General Oglethorpe—" Arrive in 
 safety all ye heroes brave " 220 
 
 An Ode to the Earl of Bath — " In each ambitious mea- 
 sure crost " 221 
 
 Wyndliam and Pultney — " Bath, vex'd with courts, 
 the country sought " 224 
 
 To M. Gamier and M. Pearce of Bath—" What glo- 
 rious verse from love has sprung" 230 
 
 Hor. lib. l.Odexxx. "O, "Venus Eegina" paraphased 
 '' O Venus joy of men and gods " 234 
 
 A Lamentable Case— "Ye fam'd physicians of this 
 place" 237 
 
 A Ballad written in June, 1743—" Some think Lord 
 Carteret bears the sway " 239 
 
 On the Prince's going to St. James's—" When to each 
 
 other's fond embrace " 241 
 
 An Ode from Paul Foley to Nicholas Fazakerley — 
 
 " Never dear Faz torment thy brain " 243 
 
 Orpheus and Hecate — " When Orpheus, as old poets 
 
 tell " 24S 
 
 Lady Dorothy Boyle enamoured with Lord Euston — 
 
 " Behold one moment Dorothea's fate " 252 
 
 Song in Comus — " Would you taste the noon-tide air " 254 
 Song—" At St, Osyth's, near the Mill " 255
 
 / r 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Page 
 An Ode to the Rt. Hon. Stephen Poyntz—" Whihi 
 
 William's deeds and AVilliam's praise " 100 
 
 An Ode on the death of Matzell, a Bull-finch — " Try 
 not my Stanhope, 'tis in vain " 107 
 
 A Ballad on Lady Ilchester — " Dear Betty come give 
 me sweet kisses ' Ill 
 
 An Ode on Miss H. Hanbury — " Why should I thus 
 employ my time " 113 
 
 A Song on ditto—" Dear Doctor of St. Mary's " 1 16 
 
 On the death of Lady Abergavenny — '' Ye INfuses all, 
 and pitying vii'gins come " 119 
 
 On the same by the Duke of Dorset — " Young thought- 
 less gay unfortunately fair " 1;22 
 
 To Sir Hans Sloane — "■ Since you, dear doctor, sav'd my 
 life " 124 
 
 Written in February, 1739-40—" For that short time 
 that I alone was blest " 130 
 
 The Country girl, an Ode — " The Country girl that's 
 well inclin'd " , 132 
 
 A New Ode — " See a new progeny descends " 137 
 
 An Ode to the Earl of Bath—" Great Earl of Bath 
 
 your reign is o'er " Uq 
 
 The Statesman — " What statesman, what hero, what 
 
 ting" 150 
 
 A New Ode — " What (good Lord Bath) piim patriot 
 
 now " 153 
 
 An Ode from the Earl of Bath—" Away Ambition let 
 me rest" 157 
 
 The Heroes, a Ballad—" Of all the jobs that e'er had 
 past" 161
 
 XXIV 
 
 Page 
 To Edward Hussey, Esq.—" Stop stop my steed, hail 
 
 Cambria hail" 167 
 
 An Epigram—" Sir Thomas of "Wentworth inflexibly 
 
 good " 173 
 
 A Dialogue between the Earl of Bath and his Countess 
 
 " To the Earl said the Countess what makes you 
 
 so dull " 174 
 
 To the Earl of Bath—" Say Earl of Bath can you 
 
 your friends deceive " 176 
 
 Written on the Earl of Bath's door—" Here dead to 
 fame lives patriot WiU" 177 
 
 An Odetothe Hon. Phillip Yorke— " For quiet, Yorke, 
 the sailor cries " 178 
 
 The Capuchin a Ballad—" Who at Paris has been " . , 182 
 
 An Ode to Lord Limerick — " Though for this time 
 you're not my theme " 186 
 
 An Ode to the Earl of Bath — " AVhen last I sung I pro- 
 mised then" 190 
 
 To the Earl of Bath — " Your sheets I've perused " . . 194 
 
 To the Same—" Oh sigh no more at your disgrace" 19B 
 
 An Ode to the Same — " Shall these mad efforts of in- 
 dignant foes " 201 
 
 A Newer Ode than the Last—" Great Earl of Bath " . . 203 
 
 Character of Sir R. Walpole— " But Orford's self I've 
 seen whilst I have read " 206 
 
 Britannia's Ghost to the Earl of Bath— " While Pultney 
 seeking lost repose " 209 
 
 An Ode from Fame to the Earl of Bath — " He is grown 
 old ; he is abhorr'd " 212 
 
 t
 
 THE 
 
 DUKE OF NEWCASTLE 
 
 Vestigia nulla retrorsum. 
 
 A LION* who, o'er all the plain, 
 Was wont, like any king, to reign ; 
 
 • Thomas, second Lord Pelham, and first Duke of New- 
 castle of that family, was born 1G93; he was trifling and 
 embarrassed in his conversation, always eager, and in a hurry 
 to transact business, yet without due method ; he was un- 
 bounded in flattery to those above him, or whose interest he 
 desired to conciliate ; he was highly gratified with the 
 grossest adulation to himself; the facility with which he made 
 and broke his promises, became proverbial ; he had a quick 
 comprehension, and was a useful and frequent debater in the 
 House of Peers ; he spoke with animation, but with little 
 arrangement, grace, or dignity ; his temper was peevish and 
 fretful, alwaysjealousofthose with whom he acted: with these 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Who in his youth was fierce and bold, 
 Could head a mob, and fight and scold, 
 Was now grown crafty, weak, and old. 
 
 habits, is it not a matter of sui-prise tliat he retained great 
 offices for forty -six years ? — Ob. 1768. 
 
 A foolish head and a perfidious heart (Sir R. Walpole said 
 of the Duke of Newcastle), his name is Perfidy. — W. 
 
 After the death of his brother, the Duke of Newcastle 
 went to Court ; at the foot of the stairs he cried, and sunk 
 down ; the yeomen of the guards dragged him up in their 
 arms; when the closet-door opened, he flung himself at his 
 length at the King's feet, sobbed, and cried, " God bless 
 3'our Majesty ! God preserve your Majesty !" and lay there 
 howling and embracing the King's knees. — W. 
 
 Old Lovat's Tragedy is over ; it was succeeded by a little 
 Farce, containing the humours of the Duke of Newcastle and 
 his man Stone ; the first event was a squabble between his 
 Grace and the Sheriff", about holding up the head on the 
 scaffold, a custom that has been disused, and the Sheriff' 
 would not comply with the Duke, who is as much frightened 
 in doing right as in doing wrong, and was three days before 
 he got courage enough to order the burying in the Tower. — W. 
 
 The Duchess of Nivemois is the Duke of Newcastle, pro- 
 perly placed, chattering incessantly out of devotion, and 
 making interest against the devil, that she may dispose of 
 Bishoprics in the next world. But it is too ridiculous to see 
 goody Newcastle exulting like old Marius in a seventh con- 
 sulship. — AV.
 
 3 
 
 Active no more to liunt for prey, 
 Supine within his den he lay, 
 And there, by falsehood, tricks, and lies, 
 He try'd all travellers to surprise. 
 A Norfolk Calf* pass'd by the first. 
 He lik'd him best, and used hira worst; 
 He made the greatest rout about him. 
 And swore he cou'd not live without hira ; 
 He slobber'd, kiss'd, caressM, cajol'd him. 
 Then to a neighb'ring butcher sold him ; 
 A Bullf in the same pasture bred, 
 Of dew-lap large, and high-toss'd head, 
 
 * Charles, the second Viscount To\vnsencl, was of a Tory 
 family, but by the representations of his brother-in-law Robert 
 Walpole, his zeal for his party soon abated, and took a con- 
 trarj' direction. He attached himself to Lord Somers, and 
 acted cordially with the ^V^^igs ; his services and decisive 
 conduct raised his consequence and character with his 
 party ; he was naturally of slow parts, but from practice he 
 became an able man of business ; he was rough in his 
 manners, impatient of contradiction, imperious and over- 
 bearing, inelegant in language, and perplexed in argument; 
 but he was generous, highly disinterested, of unblemished 
 integrity, and unsullied honour. — Ob. 1738. 
 
 t Robert Walpole, first Earl of Orford, was trained to 
 business under Lord Treasurer Godolphin, was a most able 
 
 B 2
 
 Came passing next with awful mien ; 
 A nobler beast was never seen : 
 Him had the Lion long rever'cl, 
 He knew his strength, his horns he fear'd ; 
 He acted long a flattering farce, 
 He lick'd his hoofs, he kiss'd his a — ; 
 But after all the court he 'd paid him, 
 Join'd with his enemies, and betray'd him; 
 Got him within his power, and then 
 Dragg'd him, and eat him in his den. 
 There next appear'd an unbroke Horse,* 
 Impetuous, fiery in his course, 
 
 debater ; he promoted, with the most unabated zeal, Whig 
 principles ; he was adored by his family, beloved by his 
 friends, and esteemed by his party ; his facility of transacting 
 business, and his talents for calculation, were admirable ; 
 his parsimony of the public money and the peace of the 
 British Empire was his chief characteristics : he was an 
 intelligent, prudent, and able minister — Oh. 1745. 
 
 * Carteret, Earl of Granville, a distinguished statesman, 
 was Secretai-y of State, afterwai'ds Lord Lieutenant of Ire- 
 land, but went into Opposition, and opposed Sir R. Walpole's 
 Ministry with uncommon fervour, and all the ornaments of 
 rhetoric. Warmed with a noble spirit of patriotic indignation, 
 he was,on the change of the ministry, in 1742, again Secretary
 
 Of too much mettle to be idle, 
 Impatient of a bit or bridle ; 
 Who, seeing the Lion in that state, 
 Kick'd him, to show his scorn and hate : 
 The wretched beast, who lay half dead, 
 Call'd loudly for his brother's aid ; 
 Who came, and with united force. 
 They fell upon th' incautious Horse, 
 And after they had maul'd and beat him. 
 Drew him into their cave and eat him. 
 A Spanish Mule* came next in view. 
 Of slowest pace, and swarthiest hue ; 
 (Who'd been, to serve the Lion's end, 
 Of old his fav'rite and his friend. 
 
 of State, but again removed 1744; he was ardent, enter- 
 prizing, and overbearing in his tempeB ; but in social life he 
 was pleasant, good-humoured, frank, an<l bacchanalian.— 06. 
 176;?. 
 
 * William Stanhope, first Earl of Harrington, served with 
 great reputation in the army, and as a diplomatist in Spain 
 and elsewhere ; he succeeded Lord Townsend as Secretary 
 of State ; he was of a mild and even temper, of great good 
 sense and integrity ; he had much patience and phlegm, and 
 was highly useful in the cabinet in military advice.— Oft. 1756.
 
 6 
 
 And who in battle once was seen, 
 To stand before him as a screen.) 
 He harmlessly approach'd the door. 
 But being now of use no more. 
 His former service is forgot ; 
 He shares his predecessors lot. 
 A little Monkey,* full of tricks, 
 More fam'd for puns than politics, 
 Came hopping from the Irish shore, 
 And knocking at the Lion's door, 
 Begg'd for admittance to his Grace, 
 And slid himself into a place ; 
 
 • Philip, fourth Earl of Chesterfield, was equal to most 
 of his contemporaries in elegance and perspicuity, and beyond 
 all his competitors in choice of imagery, taste, urbanity, and 
 graceful irony ; and in nice touches of raillery and humour ; 
 his wit, however poignant, was always under the control of 
 decency and good sense ; he was intimate with all the wits 
 of his time ; was at once a man of pleasure and of business ; 
 but for the relaxation of principles inculcated in his letters, 
 no talents can make amends Ob. 1773. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield called Sir Robert Walpole the Cor- 
 rupter of Youth. This is pretty well from one leaving a 
 system of education to poison them from their nursery.— W.
 
 And thence design'd, by wit and jests, 
 
 To govern all our English beasts ; 
 
 But Leo hardly let him stay 
 
 To speak, before he seiz'd his prey ; 
 
 And tho' it was not half his fill, 
 
 Swallow'd him, as you would a pill. 
 
 Next came a Poney,* plump and round, 
 
 Whose neck with halter blue was bound, 
 
 And ambled to the Lion's den, 
 
 Who bow'd, and begg'd he would walk in ; 
 
 And said he was the welcomest beast 
 
 That ever yet had been his guest; 
 
 Offer'd him all his oats, and swore 
 
 He now was fix'd, would change no more, 
 
 And from that hour to his life's end, 
 
 Would never have another friend: 
 
 The Pad too easily believ'd him, 
 
 And thought he durst not have deceiv'd him; 
 
 » John Russell, foui-th Duke of Bedford, must be ever 
 held in high estimation while there remains any attachment 
 to real goodness and to an honourable, manly, generous, and 
 exalted character ; he possessed great firmness and integrity 
 of mind. — Ob. 1771.
 
 But when he came within his reach, 
 
 The Lion seiz'd him by the breech ; 
 
 The Poney kick'd, and bit, and fought. 
 
 And curs'd, and damn'd him all to nought; 
 
 But all in vain, the weaker beast 
 
 Expires indignant with the rest ; 
 
 But after this for many a day, 
 
 The Lion catch'd no other prey : 
 
 He soon grew hungry, fierce, and sour, 
 
 Jackal was scolded everv hour. 
 
 And would himself have shared the fate, 
 
 Of all that were devour'd of late, 
 
 But such a scabby nasty beast, 
 
 No Lion's stomach could digest. 
 
 At length a well fed Fox* came by, 
 
 And caught the Lion's sharpest eye 
 
 (They formerly had known each other; 
 
 The Fox had lov'd the Lion's brother, 
 
 But never lik'd the Lion much. 
 
 And always kept without his touch.) 
 
 * Jfight Honourable Henrj Fox, first Lord Holland.
 
 'Tvvas chance that led tlie Fox that way, 
 
 He ne'er design'd to call or stay ; 
 
 When thus began the royal beast: 
 
 " Whither so fiist? I thought, at least, 
 
 " You might have stay'd, before you go, 
 
 " To see if I 'm alive or no. 
 
 " I am alive, indeed, that's all; 
 
 " But soon, I fear, you'll see me fall. 
 
 " How am I bound to curse my fate, 
 
 " Alas, I'm in a wretched state ! 
 
 " My Brother,* your old friend, is dead, 
 
 " And here I'm stretch'd upon my bed, 
 
 * Henry Pelliam being of a Whig family, closely attached 
 himself to the partisans of the Brunswick line ; after the 
 resignation of Walpole, he became the head of the Treasury; 
 he displayed in his respective offices great method and 
 application to business. In his first efforts in Parliament he 
 was confused and inelegant, but he improved by practice, 
 and became an able debater, and spoke with candour and 
 openness, which made him weU heard and generally be- 
 lieved; he managed the finance with great care and probity; 
 he gained great popularity and credit by reducing the interest 
 of the National Debt; he had a sound judgment and an 
 accommodating temper.— 06 1754.
 
 10 
 
 " Mourning his loss with tears and groans, 
 
 " AH bosoms feel that hear my moans ; 
 
 ** And yet, you know, as well as me, 
 
 " We Brothers never could agree ; 
 
 ^* You know we quarrell'd every day, 
 
 " Our lives were one continued fray ; 
 
 " His changeful conduct still perplex'd me, 
 
 " And his neglect of business vex'd me. 
 
 " Then his extravagance was worse, 
 
 " And daily drain'd my vvell-sav'd purse; 
 
 " How often did my courage save him — 
 
 " He had no friends, but those I gave him; 
 
 " And tho' I shed these tears about him, 
 
 " I shall be greater still without him j 
 
 " Especially if you, my friend, 
 
 ^* To take his place will condescend ; 
 
 " Your pow'r and credit shall be more 
 
 " Than e'er my Brother's was before. 
 
 " Upon my word you may rely, 
 
 " A Lion's heart detests a he ; 
 
 " Give me your hand, then, for good luck, 
 
 " And let the bargain here be struck."
 
 il 
 
 " Softly," quoth Ueyimid, " it" you please, 
 
 " I 'U not be dup'd with words like these ; 
 
 *' I spy the snare, I see the danger 
 
 " To others, Sir ; go seek a stranger. 
 
 " Your Brother's loss I feel, and mourn, 
 
 " With tears, o'er his untimely urn ; 
 
 " He was my friend, experience-try 'd, 
 
 " The forest on his word rely'd ; 
 
 " And all the beasts express their moan, 
 
 " That you are left, and he is gone. 
 
 " I have with pains for many a-year, 
 
 " Study'd your character with care : 
 
 " I know, and I will freely speak it, 
 
 " You make no promise, but to break it. 
 
 " Can pawn your honour to deceive, 
 
 " Are perjur'd to make fools believe; 
 
 '* Can lie with such an easy grace, 
 
 " That few can see it in your face ; 
 
 " Faithful to nought, but your own ends, 
 
 " The bitterest enemy to your friends ; 
 
 " But to your fixt undaunted foe, 
 
 " Obsequious, base, complying, low.
 
 12 
 
 " Cunning supplies thy want of parts, 
 
 " Treason and lies are all thy arts. 
 
 " But see, for I am on my guard, 
 
 " What scenes of blood are in your yard ; 
 
 " What sculls and bones fill half the place : 
 
 " Besides, the footsteps that I trace 
 
 *' Are all directed towards your den, 
 
 " I don't see one come back again ; 
 
 " And tho' I hear you spare some few, 
 
 " To hunt about for prey for you, 
 
 " Yet, Sir, your service has undone 'em, 
 
 " All honest beasts, with caution, shun 'em : 
 
 " Whoe'er has once been in your cave, 
 
 " Went in a fool, came out a knave. 
 
 " For me whom no ambitious view 
 
 " Shall tempt to join in league with you; 
 
 " To whom all hopes of pow'r or gain, 
 
 " Thrown out by you, are thrown in vain; 
 
 " Your Rose with thorns is quite choak'd up, 
 
 " There's poison in your profFer'd cup. 
 
 " In every friendship knit with you, 
 
 " There's scandal, and there 's danger too
 
 " My life would be within your pow'r, 
 
 " And, which I value ten times more, 
 
 " My yet unspotted reputation 
 
 " Would sink at once with all the nation ; 
 
 " So, notwithstanding your fine speech, 
 
 " rU never come within your reach, 
 
 " Without I 'm safe : thank heaven, your laws 
 
 " Extend no farther than your claws ; 
 
 " Content, I stand undaunted here, 
 
 " My life's secure, my honour clear, 
 
 " Nor force, nor nails, nor teeth I fear : 
 
 " I dread no traps, no snare, no gin, 
 
 " But I'm undone, if I go in." 
 
 ^p^
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 DUKE OF ARGYLE,* 
 
 AS FROM MR. DODDINGTON, 
 
 (IVritten in June 1740.J 
 
 Scriberis Variojbrtis et hostium, 
 Victor Mcenii carminis alite, 8^c. 
 
 LET loftier poets stretch the wing, 
 Pope should alone attempt to siug, 
 
 In the Mceonian style, 
 The vast renown that you have got, 
 For speeches made, and battles fought, 
 
 Brave, eloquent Argyle, 
 
 * John Campbell, Duke of Argyle, the General ; he had 
 gone into Opposition to the court at the time of the Excise 
 scheme in 1 733. — W.
 
 15 
 
 He shall with wond'rous art relate, 
 How you on either side debate 
 
 For and against a question ; 
 Nor match'd by any mortal yet, 
 For well-judg'd turns, for useful wit, 
 
 For thought, and for digestion.* 
 Then place you hke the god of war, 
 Seated on a triumphant car, 
 
 In Flanders, or in Spain ; 
 Or in your fertile native land, 
 When you, for once, had chief command. 
 
 And sing the fam'd Dunblain. 
 The conquering right wing shall there. 
 With all that martial fire appear 
 
 That made the foe retreat; 
 The Poem shall be like the fight. 
 Just as you fought the bard shall write. 
 
 And the left wingf forget. 
 
 ♦ The Duke of Argyle having in Queen Anne's reign ob- 
 tained and sold two regiments in a very short time, Lord 
 Treasurer Ojdbrd said, that his Grace had the quickest 
 digestion of any man he ever knew — "VV. 
 
 t The Duke was accused of having lost the command of 
 himself, and endangered the Kings army. -W.
 
 16 
 
 But such debates, and such campaigns, 
 Are far above my humble strains, 
 
 Nor suit my peaceful Lyrick ; 
 And I will ne'er be tempted more, 
 Grown wise from what I 've done before, * 
 
 To write a panegyric. 
 
 * Mr. Doddington had written a panegyric on Sir Robert 
 Walpole, in which, in a line recorded by Pope, he professed 
 himself " In power a Servant, out of power a Friend." — W.
 
 ARGYLE'S* DECAMPMENT, 
 
 (Written in June, 1740.^ 
 
 WHEN Argyle would not go to camp, 
 Thus did our Monarch say ; 
 
 " Dear cousin, since you won't command, 
 " By G — d you shall obey. 
 
 " From every place Til turn you out, 
 " Such is our fixt intention ; 
 
 • John, the second Duke of Argyle, and Duke of Green- 
 wich, was a warm, impetuous, and animated orator ; he 
 possessed great fluency of language and elegance of diction; 
 his speeches were highly declamatory, and filled with 
 affected expressions of candour, conviction, and disinterest- 
 edness ; they had always a very great effect, by appearing 
 to he unpremeditated effusions, flowing from the occasion 
 and adapted to the moment ; they were accompanied with 
 all the graces of elocution, gesture, and dignity of manner. 
 —Oh. Oct. 1743. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 
 
 " From Portsmouth, from the Ordnance, 
 " From regiment and pension." 
 
 So this great Duke was turned out, 
 Whom no two people follow'd ; 
 
 And then the Torys all rejoic'd. 
 
 And then the Whigs all hallo o'd . 
 
 One man * alone in all this land, 
 Did not much like this story, 
 
 Whom I did not except, because 
 He's neither Whig nor Tory. 
 
 To no one party, no one man, 
 
 Not to his ownself tight ; 
 For what he voted for at noon, 
 
 He rail'd against at night. 
 
 A false, suspicious friend was he, 
 
 As all the world can tell ; 
 He flatter'd Walpole at Whitehall, 
 
 And damn'd him in Pall-mall, f 
 
 » Mr. Doddington. 
 
 •f Mr. Doddington built the house in Pall-mall which is 
 now the front part of Carlton-house. — W. 
 
 J
 
 ly 
 
 But what lie said in either place, 
 Ne'er ansvver'd what he meant : 
 
 Offensive was his flattery, 
 His satire innocent. 
 
 This having done for twenty years, 
 He thought 'twas time to stop ; 
 
 And having served three 'prenticeships, 
 Resolv'd to set up shop. 
 
 This man so closely stuck t' Argyle, 
 
 In this unhappy bout; 
 That from his Scottish Grace he catch'd 
 
 The itch of going out. 
 
 For sometime by himself he sat, 
 
 Projecting glorious ends ; 
 And then he sent his letters forth, 
 
 To summon all his friends. 
 
 To them with harsh and horrid voice, 
 
 He first the silence broke ; 
 
 And thus the gaping company. 
 
 The peerless Bub bespoke : 
 c 2
 
 §0 
 
 " I sent for you to tell you first 
 
 ' Of your poor friend's digrace; 
 
 " Walpole, I hear, has vow'd my fall, 
 " And I must lose my place. 
 
 " know not whence his rage proceeds, 
 
 " For I appeal to you, 
 " If he e'er bid me do a thing, 
 
 '' That I refused to do. 
 
 " Then let us to the patriots go, 
 
 " And join in all their ends, 
 " And let us all be Walpole's foes, 
 
 " Who never were his friends. 
 
 ** Oh, Damer, Tucker, Raymond, Steward ! * 
 
 " To Eastbury all welcome ; 
 " Two of you shall for Weymouth serve, 
 
 " And two shall serve for Melcomb. 
 
 • Mr. Doddington's four candidates. Joseph Damer 
 was afterwards created Lord Milton. — W.
 
 21 
 
 " And it Sir Robert be so bold 
 
 " In combat, to defie us ; 
 " ril show my strength, and rid the towns 
 
 " Of Pierce * and of Olmius. * 
 
 " One-half of Winchelsea is mine, 
 " And so 's Bridgewater too ; 
 
 " Poole, as you know, my wash-pot is, 
 " O'er Wells I cast my shoe. 
 
 " Thus arm'd, no more I'll fawn and bow, 
 " As at the Treasury-board ; 
 
 " But here the world shall all allow, 
 " I strut like any Lord.f 
 
 * The Court candidates. Olmius was afterwards made 
 an Irish Lord by the title of Waltham.— W. 
 
 f The ambition of his life was to be an English Peer. In 
 a subsequent opposition attaching himself once more to the 
 Prince of Wales, and lending him money, he was made his 
 Comptroller, and was said to have the promise of a Duke- 
 dom : when he went to kiss the late King's hand for his 
 new place, he was very apprehensive of the Kmg's anger ; 
 but his Majesty recollecting all his changes, and seeing his 
 tUfficulty of kneeling, as he was old and very unwieldy, only 
 burst out into a laugh. In the subsequent reign he ob- 
 tained the barony of Melcomb — W.
 
 22 
 
 " Myself I'll to my country give, 
 
 " And to the city of London ; 
 " Then, farewell Walpole, farewell Erie,* 
 " And Winnington and Sundon." 
 
 Thus he harangued all his friends, 
 
 And still was going on ; 
 When news was brought that our good King 
 
 Has turn'd out Bubington. 
 
 Oh, to what court will he now go. 
 
 To which will he repair ; 
 For he is ill at St. James'-house, 
 
 And much worse in the square. 
 
 • Giles Erie, Thomas Winnington, "William Clayton, 
 Lord Sundon, were Commissioners of the Treasury with 
 Mr. Doddington when he quitted. The two first were as 
 remarkable for wit as the last for the want of it, and 
 for slowness of comprehension, of which Doddington was 
 always complaining. One day that Lord Sundon laughed 
 at something Doddington had said, Winnington, in awhisper 
 to the latter, said, " You are very ungrateful ; you see 
 Lord Sundon takes your joke." "No, no," said Dodding- 
 ton, " he s laughing now at what I said last board day." — 
 AV
 
 23 
 
 But should he in the parhanient, 
 
 By patriotism led ; 
 Unvote his votes of twenty years, 
 
 And unsay all he has said, 
 
 He'll have but two things left to do, 
 Both which he'll do, I hope ; 
 
 Go to the Cocoa Tree at noon, 
 And sup at night with Pope. 
 
 Doddingtonhadmore wit and unsteadiness than Pulteney ; 
 quite as ambitious, but less acrimonious; no formidable 
 enemy ; no sure political but agreeable friend. Dodding- 
 ton's speeches were as dainty and pointed as Pulteney's were 
 copious and wandering from the subject. Ostentatious in 
 his person, houses, and furniture, he wanted in his expense 
 the taste he never wanted in his conversation. Pope and 
 Churchill treated him with more severity than he deserved, 
 a fate that may attend a man of the greatest wit, when his 
 parts are more suited to society than to comjwsition. The 
 verse remains ; the bon mots and sallies are forgotten.— W. 
 Bub's Diary is curious, indeed, not so much from the 
 secrets it blabs, which are rather characteristic than novel, 
 but from the wonderful folly of the author, who was so 
 fond of talking of himself, that he tells all he knew of him- 
 self, though scarce an event that does not betray his pro- 
 fligacy, and (which is still more surprising that he should 
 disclose), the contempt in which he was held. — W.
 
 24 
 
 It had been well for Doddington's memory if his fame 
 had been suffered to rest on the tradition of his wit, and 
 the evidence of his poetry. The posthumous publication of 
 his Diary has not enlarged the stock of his reputation, in 
 which he relates little but what tends to his disgrace ; how- 
 ever, with all its faults, the book is valuable.— "NV.
 
 A GRUB UPON BUB* 
 
 ( Written f 07' the use of the Votesmen ofBridgewater, 
 March 1740-1 J 
 
 To the Tune of " Packintoii's Pound." 
 
 GOOD people draw near, and attend to my song, 
 And despise not my ballad for being a Grub; 
 For if 'tis not a good one, at least 'tis not long, 
 And I'll tell you, in short, the fall of poor Bub : 
 How he lost his good place. 
 And is in disgrace, 
 And does not know where to show his flat face ; 
 For the Torys will never receive such a scrub, 
 And no Whig at court will be civil to Bub. 
 
 » George Bub Doddington, afterwards created Baron 
 Melcombe.
 
 26 
 
 When the Knights of the Bath by King George 
 
 were created, 
 He greatly desired he that order might wear ; 
 But he had not one star^ for poor Bub was ill-fated, 
 And ne'er a red ribbon fell to his share : 
 
 For the King would not dub, 
 
 So low-born a scrub, 
 Nor the order disgrace with a fellow like Bub ; 
 But he calmly and quietly put up the thing, 
 And foUow'd the court, tho' not led in a string. 
 
 When for sometime he had sat at the Treasury 
 
 board, [ear ; 
 
 And the clerks there with titles had tickled his 
 From ev'ry day hearing himself call'd a lord, 
 He begg'd of Sir Robert to make him a peer, 
 
 But in an ill hour ; 
 
 For Walpole look'd sour. 
 And said, it was not in his will or his pow'r. 
 " Do you think. Sir, the King would advance 
 
 such a scrub. 
 Or the peerage debase with the name of a Bub ?"
 
 27 
 
 He 's on this grown a patriot, and soon will 
 
 harangue, 
 
 And of Virtue will prate like a saint on a tub ; 
 
 But I shall leave him for Sir William* to bang. 
 
 If he 'as but a clear stage, how he'll mumble 
 
 poor Bub : 
 
 Who has never a friend. 
 That assistance will lend, 
 Or his cause, tho' his life were at stake, will 
 
 defend ; 
 Nay, if 'twas not in hopes to give Walpole a rub, 
 The patriots themselves would p — ss upon Bub. 
 
 * Sir William Younge, Secretary at War.— W.
 
 28 
 
 {Written in December 1741.^ 
 
 UNHAPPY England, still in forty-one, 
 By Scotland art thou doom'd to be undone ; 
 But Scotland now, to strike alone afraid, 
 Calls in her worthy sister Cornwall's * aid ; 
 And these two common strumpets, hand in hand, 
 Go forth and preach up virtue through the land ^ 
 Start at corruption, at a bribe turn pale, 
 Shudder at pensions, and at placemen rail. 
 Peace ! peace! ye wretched hypocrites, or rather. 
 With Job, say to Corruption, thou 'rt our father ; 
 But how can Walpole justify his fate, 
 He trusted Islaf till it was too late. 
 Where were those parts, where was that piercing 
 
 mind, 
 That knowledge, and that judgment of mankind. 
 
 * The new Parliament in 1740, was chiefly turned 
 
 against the Court by the Scotch and Cornish boroughs. — W. 
 
 t Archibald Campbell, Earl of Islay, brother of John
 
 29 
 
 To trust a traitor, whom he knew so well, 
 Strange truth betray'd, yet not deceived he fell: 
 He knew his heart was, like his aspect, vile ; 
 Knew him the tool and brother of Argyle. 
 Yet to his hands his power and hopes gave up, 
 And tho' he knew 'twas poison, drank the cup ; 
 Trusted to one he never could think true, 
 And perish'd by a villain whom he knew. 
 
 Duke of Argyle, whom he succeeded in the Dukedom and 
 with whom he was, or affected to be, at variance, was 
 trusted by Sir Robert Walpole with the management of the 
 affairs of Scotland; was suspected by the Whigs in 1740, to 
 have betrayed the Scotch Boroughs to his brother. Sir R. 
 Walpole said, he did not accuse him ; it is certain that on 
 Sir Robert's fall, the Marquis of Tweedale, the Earl of 
 Stair, and other discontented Whigs came into place, not 
 to the satisfaction of Lord Islay.— -W.
 
 GILES EARLE* 
 
 (of marlborough-street); 
 
 AND 
 
 GEO. BUBB DODDINGTON, Esqrs. 
 (Written in Jan. 1740-1 J 
 
 ^ dialogue. 
 
 MARLBOROUGH-STREET. 
 
 E. MY dear Pall-mall, f I hear you 're got in 
 favour, 
 And please the Duke by your late damn'd 
 behaviour ; 
 
 • Gyles Earle had been in the army, and was then 
 attached to John Duke of Argyle. — W. 
 t Mr. Doddington had a house there.
 
 3\ 
 
 I live with Walpole, you live at his Grace's, 
 And thus, thank heav'n, we have exchanged 
 our places. 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. Yes, Sir, on great Argyle I often wait. 
 
 At charming Sudbrook,* or in Bruton-street; 
 In wit or politics (he's good at either) 
 We pass our independent hours together. 
 
 MARLBORO UGH-STREET. 
 
 E. ByG — d that's heavenly : so in town you talk, 
 Or round the groves at charming Sudbrook 
 
 walk. 
 And hear the cuckoo and the linnet sing ; 
 L — d G — djthafs vastly pleasant in the Spring. 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. Dear witty Marlbro'-street for once be wise, 
 Nor happiness, you never knew, despise ; 
 
 * The Duke's Villa, near Richmond, Surrey— W.
 
 32 
 
 You ne'er enjoy'd the triumph of disgrace, 
 Nor felt the dignity of loss of place. 
 
 MARLBOROUGH-STREET. 
 
 E. Not lost my place !* yes, but I did, by G — d, 
 Tho your description of it 's mighty odd; 
 I felt no triumph, found no dignity : 
 I cry dj-f- and so did all my family. 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. What, shed a tear because you lost your place ! 
 Sure thou'rt the lowest of the lowest race. 
 Gods ! Is there not in poUtics a time. 
 When keeping places is the greatest crime? 
 
 * In Queen Anne's reign, when the Whigs were dis- 
 carded. — W. 
 
 •|- Earle was very covetous, and affected to be so more 
 than he was ; and his humour was set olf ' by a whining tone, 
 crabbed face, and very laughing eyes. One day as he was 
 eating oysters, he said, " Lord God ! what fine things 
 oysters would be, if one could make one's servants live on 
 the shells !"_AV.
 
 33 
 
 MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 E. O yes, that doctrine I have learnt long since : 
 I once resigned my place about the Prince ;* 
 But then I did it for a better thino-. 
 And got by that the green cloth to the King. 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. Thou hast no taste for popular applause, 
 Which follows those that join in Virtue's 
 
 cause : 
 Argyle and I am prais'd by every tongue, 
 The burthen of each free-born Briton's sons:. 
 
 MARLBOKOUGH-STREET. 
 
 E. You and the duke, d'ye think youVe popular? 
 By G — d they lie that tell you that you are. 
 
 * George II : tliis happened in the quarrel between him 
 and his father George I, in 1720. — "W. 
 
 Mr. Earle, was groom of tlie bed-chamber to the Prince, 
 which he resigned in 1720 ; and was made one of the Clerks 
 Comptrollers of his Majesty's Household, or what is termed 
 the Board of Green Cloth. In 1728, he was made a Com- 
 missioner of the Revenue in Ireland ; and in 1737, a Lord 
 of the Treasury,— Isaac Reed. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 
 
 No ! Walpolenow has got the nation's voice, 
 The people's idol, and their monarch's choice. 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. When the Excise scheme shall no more be 
 
 blam'd, 
 When the Convention * shall no more be 
 
 nam'd, 
 Then shall your minister, and not till then, 
 Be popular, with unbriVd Englishmen. 
 
 MAKLBOROUGH-STREET. 
 
 E. The Excise and the Convention ! D — n your 
 
 b d, 
 
 You voted for them both, and thought them 
 
 good; 
 Or did not like the triumph of disgrace, 
 And gave up your opinion, not your place. 
 
 » The Convention with Spain, 1739.— W.
 
 35 
 
 PALL-MALL. 
 
 D. To freedom and Argyle I turn my eyes ; 
 For them I feel, by tliem I hope to rise ; 
 And after ^ears in ignominy spent, 
 
 I own my crime, and blush, and dare repent. 
 
 MARLBOROUGH-STREET. 
 
 E. Sir, of repentance there's one charming kind, 
 And that's the voluntary, and resigned : 
 Your's is a damn'd, enforced, turn'd-out 
 
 repentance, 
 A Newgate malefactor's after sentence ; 
 Who sighs, because he's lost the power to sin, 
 As you repent, that you Ve no longer in. 
 But since we're rhyming, pray, for once, mind 
 
 me. 
 While I, like other poets, prophecy : 
 Whenever Walpole dies, and not before. 
 Then shall Argyle perhaps come into pow'r; 
 And when he has been paid his long arrear, 
 And got once more 9,000/. a year ; 
 D 2
 
 36 
 
 When evVy Campbell that attends his grace, 
 Shall be restor'd to pension or to place ; 
 When ev'ry Scotchman in his train is serv'd, 
 An Enghshman may chance to be preferr'd. 
 This is a truth ; I know it to my cost : 
 He best can tell it who has felt it most.
 
 PETER* 
 
 AND 
 
 MY LORD QUIDAM 
 
 ^ Satin. 
 
 (Written in August, 1743.; 
 
 Hoc quogue Tiresia prcvter narrafa petenli 
 Respondc . HoR. Lib. ii, Sat. 5. 
 
 LORD QUIDAM. 
 
 PETERjPve signed and seal'd ; the work is done ; 
 My goods, my lands, and tenements are gone ! 
 
 * Peter Walter, the usurer, well known by Pope's satires. 
 Lord Quidam was probably an imaginary person.— W. 
 
 Peter was a person not only eminent for the wisdom of 
 his profession, but a dexterous attorney and a good con- 
 ve^'ancer ; extremely respected ; though free from all manner 
 of luxury and ostentation, he purchased Stalbridge Park, 
 near Sherborne, and was the important Peter Pounce de- 
 scribed by his neighbour Fielding, in Joseph Andrews ; he 
 was Clerk of the Peace for the County of Middlesex, Land 
 Steward to the Duke of Newcastle and other gentlemen ■■, 
 he acquired an immense fortune. — Ob. 1T45, ad. 83. 

 
 38 
 
 I see my folly, and repent too late ; 
 But since you're now possessed of my estate, 
 And these few guineas all that now remain, 
 Teach me to thrive, and to be rich again : 
 To thee, the art of heaping endless stores 
 Is known, and Plutus opens all his doors. 
 
 PETER. 
 
 Already asking? — what! a fresh demand. 
 With those five hundred guineas in your hand, 
 Of which, had I insisted on my due. 
 One shilling never could have come to you ? 
 
 LORD QUIDAM. 
 
 O you, who never but for interest lie, 
 
 Pity me in this .ebb of poverty; 
 
 My spreading beeches and my oaks cut doAvn, 
 
 My manors sold, and ev'ry acre gone ; 
 
 Thus low reducVl, what is my birth, my fame. 
 
 And all my virtue, but an empty name ?
 
 39 
 
 PETER. 
 
 Since, then, you're changed from what you were 
 
 before. 
 And have a just disdain for all that's poor; 
 And since to think you wisely now begin, 
 That poverty's a crime, and want a sin ; 
 That gold to ev'ry wish its object draws, 
 Can purchase honour, can command applause, 
 Can laugh at punishment, and mock the laws; 
 Attend, whilst I point out the certain way 
 To wealth, and all my golden rales display : — 
 Whene'er you find a person deep in years. 
 Loaded with wealth, but destitute of heirs, 
 There get acquaintance, there get intimate, 
 Bow to him, follow, court him, visit, treat ; 
 For rarities beat all the town about, [trout ; 
 
 The fresh Thames salmon, and the Fordwich 
 The fattest ven'son and the plumpest quail, 
 The green-corn partridge, and delicious rail, 
 Procure and send him : ever in his sight 
 Be found ; attend by day and watch by night.
 
 40 
 
 What tho'' descended from the lowest race, 
 A coward, Uar, human kind's disgrace ; 
 Not Hervey in a more avoided state, 
 Vieing with Pulfney for contempt and hate ; 
 With him in pubUc still be fond f appear, 
 Smile in his face, and whisper in his ear ; 
 At park, at play, be ever at his side ; 
 Walk when he walks, and in his chariot ride. 
 
 LOUD QUIDAM. 
 
 What, Sir, be seen with Pult'ney in the Mall, 
 Or follow old detested Marlbro's* call ; 
 
 * Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough ; she was a considerable 
 I)ersonage in her day. Her own beauty, the superior 
 talents of her husband in war, and the caprice of a feeble 
 princess, raised her to the highest pitch of power ; and the 
 prodigious wealth bequeathed to her by her lord, and 
 accumulated in concert with her, gave her weight in a free 
 country. 
 
 The beauty of the duchess of Marlborough had always 
 been of the scornful and imperious kmd, and her features 
 and air announced nothing that her temper did not confirm. 
 Both together, her beauty and temper, enslaved her heroic 
 lord. One of her principal charms was a prodigious abun- 
 dance of fine fair hair. One day at her toilet, iii anger to him.
 
 4-1 
 
 What blot in all my life has ever been, 
 
 To make you think that I could be so mean? 
 
 she cut oft' those commanding tresses, and flung them in his 
 face. Nor did her insolence stop there; nor stop till it 
 had totally estranged and worn out the patience of the poor 
 queen, her mistress. The duchess was often seen to give 
 her majesty her fan and gloves, and turn away her own 
 head, as if the queen had offensive smells- 
 Incapable of due respect to superiors, it was no wonder 
 she treated her children and inferiors with supercilious 
 contempt. Her eldest daughter and she were long at 
 variance, and never reconciled. When the younger duchess 
 exposed herself by placing a monument and silly epitaph, 
 of her own composition and bad spelling, to Congreve in 
 Westminster-abbey, her mother, quoting the words, said, 
 " I know not what pleasure she might have in his company, 
 but 1 am sure it was no honour." With her youngest 
 daughter, the duchess of Montagu, old Sarah agreed as ill — 
 " I wonder," said the duke of Marlborough to them, 
 " that you cannot agree, you are so alike !" Of her grand- 
 daughter, the duchess of INIanchester, daughter of the 
 duchess of Montagu, she affected to be fond. One day she 
 said to her, " Duchess of INIancliester, you are a good crea- 
 ture, and 1 love you mightily — but you have a mother !" 
 " And sJie has a mother !" answered the INIanchester, who 
 was all spirit, justice, and honour, and could not suppress 
 sudden truth. 
 
 One of old iVIarlborough's capital mortifications sprung 
 from a grand-daughter. The most beautiful of her four
 
 42 
 
 ril keep my honour sacred as before;, 
 I will not flatter. 
 
 PETER. 
 
 Then you will be poor. 
 
 charming daughters, lady Sunderland,* left two sons, f the 
 second duke of INIarlborough, and John Spencer, who 
 became her heir, and Anne lady Bateman, and lady Diana 
 Spencer, whom I have mentioned, and Avho became duchess 
 of Bedford. The duke and his brother, to humour their 
 grandmother, were in opposition, though the eldest she 
 never loved. He had good sense, infinite generosity, and 
 not more oeconomy than was to be expected from a young 
 man of warm passions and such vast expectations. He was 
 modest and diffident too, but could not digest total depen- 
 dence on a capricious and avaricious grandmother. His 
 sister, lady Bateman, had the intriguing spirit of her father 
 and grandfather earls of Sunderland. She was connected 
 
 * Lady Simderland was a great politician ; and having, like her mother, a 
 most beautiful head of hair, used, while combing it at her toilet, to receive 
 men whose votes or interest she wished to influence. 
 
 t She had an elder son who died young, while only earl of Sunderland. 
 He had parts, and all the ambition of his parents and of his family (which 
 his younger brothers had not) ; but George II. had conceived such an aver- 
 sion to his father, that he would not employ him. The young earl at last 
 asked sir Robert Walpole for an ensigncy in the guards. The minister, 
 astonished at so humble a request from a man of such consequence, ex- 
 pressed his surprise—" I ask it," said the young lord, "to ascertain whether 
 it is determined that I shall never have any thing." He died soon after at 
 Paris — W.
 
 43 
 
 LORD QUIDAM. 
 
 Well, be it so, then : I must bear my fate ; 
 But tell me how you raisM your vast estate. 
 
 with Henry Fox the first lord Holland, and both had great 
 influence over the duke of IMarlborough. AA'hat an object 
 would it be to Fox to convert to the court so great a sub- 
 .)ect as the duke ! Nor was it much less important to his 
 sister to give him a wife, who, with no reasons for expecta- 
 tion of such shining fortune, should owe the obligation to 
 her ! Lady Bateman struck the first stroke, and persuaded 
 her brother to marry a handsome young lady, who unluckily 
 was daughter of lord Trevor, who had been a bitter enemy 
 of his grandfather the victorious duke. The grandam's 
 rage exceeded all bounds. Having a portrait of lady Bate- 
 man, she blackened the face, and wrote on it, " Now her 
 outside is as black as her inside." The duke she turned 
 out of the little lodge in Windsor park; and then pretend- 
 ing that the new duchess and her female cousins, eight 
 Trevors, had stripped the house and garden, she had a 
 puppet-show made with waxen figures representing the 
 Trevors tearing up the shrubs, and the duchess carrying oft" 
 the chicken-coop under her arm. 
 
 • Her fury did but increase when Mr. Fox prevailed on 
 the duke to go over to the court. With her coarse intem- 
 perate humour she said, "That was the Fox that had 
 stolen her goose." Kepeated injuries at last drove the duke 
 to go to law with her. Fearing that even no lavvyer would 
 come up to the Billingsgate with which she was animated
 
 44 
 
 PETER. 
 
 Tell ye ! 
 
 Be sedulous, nor time, nor labour spare. 
 
 To be some rich old childless dotard's heir ; 
 
 herself, she appeared in the court of justice, and with some 
 wit and infinite abuse treated the laughing public with the 
 spectacle of a woman who had held the reins of empire meta- 
 morphosed into the widow Blackacre. Her grandson in his 
 suit demanded a sword set with diamonds given to his 
 grandsire by the emperor. " I retained it," said the bel- 
 dame, " lest he should pick out the diamonds, and pawn 
 them." 
 
 I will repeat but one more instance of her insolent 
 asperity, which produced an admirable reply of the famous 
 lady Mary Wortley Montagu. Lady Sundon had re- 
 ceived a pair of diamond ear-rings as a bribe for procuring 
 a considerable post in queen Caroline's family for a certain 
 peer ; and, decked with those jewels, paid a visit to the old 
 duchess ; who, as soon as she was gone, said, " What an 
 impudent creature, to come hither with her bribe in her 
 ear!" "Madam," replied lady Mary Wortley, who was 
 present, "how should people know where wine is sold, 
 unless a bush is hung out ?" 
 
 Pope having drawn his famous character of Atossa, he 
 communicated it to the duchesses of INIarlborough and 
 Buckingham, pretending to each that it was levelled at the 
 other. The Buckingham believed him: the Marlborough
 
 45 
 
 And tho"' you fail in one attempt, yet try 
 Again, nor let the scheme forgotten lie. 
 You seem to think the part is base and low : 
 Look round you, Sir ; see what your betters do ! 
 Consider Dorset, * famous for more pride, 
 Than half the haughty English peers beside ; 
 Yet this great man pursu'd this plan with care. 
 Besieging Wilmington f for many a year ; 
 
 had more sense, and knew herself— and gave him a thousand 
 
 pounds to suppress it And yet he left the copy behind 
 
 him! 
 
 Bishop Bumet, from absence of mind, had drawn as 
 strong a picture of herself to the duchess of Marlborougli, 
 as Pope did under covert of another lady. Dining with the 
 duchess after the duke's disgrace, Burnet was comparing 
 him to Belisarius — " But how," said she, " could so great 
 a general be so abandoned?" — "Oh! madam," said the 
 bishop, " do not you know what a brimstone of a wife he 
 had !"_W. 
 
 * Lionel Sackville, Duke of Dorset. — W. 
 
 •\- Spencer Compton, Earl of Wilmington ; he deserted 
 the principles of his family who were Tories, and adhered 
 to the Whigs ; he was Speaker of the House of Commons, 
 and Paymaster of the Forces. 
 
 George the second appointed him first Minister; but 
 finding himself unequal to the task, he declined it ; but shed 
 tears for the King's kindness, when he declared his inca-
 
 46 
 
 To him his time, opinion, conscience gave. 
 Received his nod, and ownM himself his slave ; 
 Flevi^ at his call, and follow'd v^'here he went, 
 His tool in Court, his vote in Parliament. 
 And tho' his gen'rous labour was not paid, 
 And by design, or chance, no will was made ; 
 Does he give o'er, or from my scheme abstain, 
 Or miss his constant visits to Germain.* 
 Would you have more examples to inspire 
 Such deeds, and kindle lucrative desire, 
 Ev'n worthless Sidney's f praise, I must not 
 
 grudge, 
 The assiduous dry-nurse of a wealthy judge ; 
 
 pacity, on being made a Peer ; he was appointed Lord Privy 
 Seal — Oh. 1743. 
 
 * Lady Elizabeth Germain, to whom Dr. Young dedi- 
 cated one of his satires, and several of whose letters are 
 printed among Swift's. She left great part of her fortune 
 to the Duke's youngest son, Lord George Sackville, who 
 took her name.— W. 
 
 t Lord Sidney Beauclerc, brother of the Duke of St. 
 Alban's ; he also paid great court to Lady Elizabeth Ger- 
 main ; and, being very handsome, had engaged her to 
 marry him ; but the Duke of Dorset and her relations dis- 
 suaded her, and she gave Lord Sidney 1,000^. to be off— W.
 
 His tea he made, his meat at table carv'd, 
 His words he echo'd, and his looks observ'd ; 
 With him he went the circuit, to take care 
 His supper to bespeak, his sheets to air ; 
 And tho' at last his hopes were here dismay'd, 
 He 'd been before a gainer by the trade ; 
 The sweets he 'd tasted once he could not leave : 
 He got by Topham* tho' he lost by Reeve.f 
 For many a year, tho' now he's dead and gone, 
 Sir Richard J liv'd the fairest mark in town ; 
 
 * Mr. Topham, of Windsor, made Lord Sidney Beau- 
 clerc his heir. Lord Sidney, who was extremely illiterate, 
 was often the butt of Sir Charles William's wit. One day 
 in the House of Conmions, that Lord Sidney sat opposite, 
 a Teller in a Committee, Sir Charles said to the other 
 Teller, " Let Lord Sidney tell nineteen, and then do you go 
 on twenty," &c.— W. 
 
 f Sir Thomas Reeve, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas. 
 -.0&. 1737. 
 
 J Sir Richard EUys, a rich childless old Baronet, de- 
 scended from the famous Hambden, for whose memory he 
 affected high enthusiasm; he left his great estate after his 
 wife's death, who re-man-ied Sir Francis Dashwood (Lord 
 De Spencer), to the second son of John Hobart, Earl of 
 Buckinghamshire, who was also descended from Hambdeix
 
 48 
 
 A long disease foretold his certain fate ; 
 
 No near relations, and a vast estate ; 
 
 What numbers courted, who with eager eyes 
 
 Beheld and wish'd to gain the golden prize ; 
 
 But far beyond the rest to gain his love, 
 
 Horace and Hambden diligently strove ; 
 
 But Horace * flatt'ry was too thick and coarse, 
 
 And Hambden's conversations ten times 
 
 worse ; 
 Thither did Horace ev'ry day repair, 
 While pohtics were but his second care ; 
 
 by women. Kichard Hambden, one of the expectants here 
 mentioned, was only collaterally descended. Sir Richard 
 Ellys pretended to learning on the credit of a very expen- 
 sive library, which he likewise bequeathed to Mr. Hobart. 
 Horatio, brother of Sir Robert Walpole, was the other 
 candidate for Sir Richard's wealth ; wrote a Latin ode to him 
 to flatter his pretensions ; gave his portrait to Sir Richard, 
 and had Sir Richard's in his own Library— in vain. — W. 
 
 * Horace, first Lord Walpole, younger brother of Sir 
 Robert, was a great master of the commercial and political 
 interest of the British Empire ; he was a most able nego- 
 ciator; his manner was plain and unassuming, but with 
 great coolness and address in adapting himself to the cha- 
 racters and prejudices of those with whom he negociated. 
 —Oh. 1757.
 
 40 
 
 To him, before the King, his court he made, 
 And left the council, tho' they sat on trade. 
 For him the dear Dutch mail for hours has laid, 
 Unop'd, and Fleury's letters been unread ; 
 All care t' amuse, all pains to please him took, 
 And Pug* and Whist and Europe he forsook. 
 In strict attendance Hambden did the same, 
 Arra'd with the strong pretensions of his name ; 
 By ties of blood he claim'd the foremost place, 
 As the last branch of patriot Hambden's race. 
 His daily visits punctually he paid^ 
 From morn till noon, from noon till night he 
 
 stayd; 
 Still the same race of dull discourse was run, 
 Till by himself the blockhead was undone : 
 
 * Mary Lambard, wife of ISIr. H. Walpole, whom fae 
 always called Pug. One day, as some members were walking 
 from the House of Commons, a steam issued from INIrs 
 AValpole's wash-house at ^\Taitehall; one of them said, "What 
 does that dirty creature, Horace's wife, ever wash her 
 linen?" " No," said Gyles Earle, " but she takes in other 
 people's." — W. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 
 
 Poor in his nature, and untaught by art, 
 He strove, but vainly strove, to act his part. 
 But to a nobler object turn your eyes, 
 See Pult"'ney loaded with a weighty prize : 
 He in these kingdoms once did foremost stand. 
 And balanc'd England with a doubtful hand ; 
 Each party's idol then, tho' now their hate. 
 The arbiter of Whig and Tory fate ; 
 Yet then neglecting place, the game of fools. 
 He wisely stuck to my unerring rules. 
 Muse let this tale in smoothest verse be suns:, 
 WhilePulfney's praises flow fromPeter's tongue : 
 False to his country, falser to his friends. 
 And true to nothing but his private ends ; 
 Immensely rich, yet lab'ring still for more, 
 Flatters ahke a Duchess or a whore ; 
 And first old haughty Buckingham* he tried, 
 To all her weaknesses his arts applied, 
 Flatter'd her vanity, and swell'd her pride ; 
 
 • The Duchess of Buckingham was as much elated by 
 owing her birth to James II. as the Marlborough was by 
 the favour of his daughter. Lady Dorchester,* the mother 
 
 * Lady Dorchester was well-known for her wit, and for saying that she
 
 61 
 
 Took care no loyal words should e'er offend lier. 
 And pity'd.the unfortunate Pretender. 
 
 of the former, endeavoured to curb that pride, and, one 
 should have thought, took an efiectual method, though one 
 few mothers would have practised : " You need not be so 
 vain," said the old profligate, " for you are not the King's 
 daughter, but Colonel Graham's." Graham was a fashion- 
 able man of those days, and noted for dry humour. His 
 legitimate daughter the Countess of Berkshire was ex- 
 tremely like to the Duchess of Buckingham : " 'Well ! 
 well!" said Graham, "kings are aU powerful, and one 
 must not complain ; but certainly the same man begot those 
 two women." To discredit the wit of both pai-ents, the 
 Duchess never ceased labouring to restore the House of 
 Stuart, and to mark her filial devotion to it. Frequent 
 were her journeys to the continent for that purpose. She 
 always stopped at Paris, visited the church where lay the 
 unburied body of James, and wept over it. A poor Bene- 
 
 wondered for what James chose his mistresses : " We are none of us hand- 
 some," said she; " and if we have wit, he has not enough to find it out."— 
 But I do not know whether it is as pubUc, that her style was gross and 
 shameless. Meeting the duchess of Portsmouth and lady Orkney, the 
 favourite of king WiUiam, at the drawing-room of George the First, " God !' ' 
 said she, " who would have thought that we three whores should have met 
 here ?" Having after the King'.s abdication married Sir David Collyer, by 
 whom she had two sons, she said to them, " If any body should call yon 
 sons of a whore, you must bear it ; for you are so : but if they call you 
 bastards, fight till you die; for you are an honest man"s sons." 
 
 Susan Lady Betlasis, another of King James's mistresses, had wit too and 
 no beauty. Mrs. Godfrey had neither. Oramraont has recorded why slic 
 was chosen.— W. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 
 
 But grown impatient, from my paths astray 
 He went, and thought he'd found a nearer way; 
 
 dictine of the convent, observing her filial piety, took notice 
 to her grace that the velvet pall that covered the coffin was 
 become thread-bare -and so it remained ! 
 
 Finding all her efforts fruitless, and perhaps aware that 
 her plots were not undiscovered by Sir Robert Walpole, 
 who was remarkable for his intelligence, she made an artful 
 double, and resolved to try Avhat might be done through 
 him himself. I forget how she contracted an acquaintance 
 with him. — I do remember that more than once he received 
 letters from the Pretender himself, which probably were 
 transmitted through her. Sir Robert always carried them 
 to George II. who endorsed and returned them. That ne- 
 gotiation not succeeding, the Duche.ss made a more home 
 push. Learning his extreme fondness for his daughter 
 (afterwards Lady Mary Churchill), she sent for Sir Robert, 
 and asked hun if he recollected what had not been thought 
 too great a reward to Lord Clarendon for restoring the 
 royal family? He affected not to understand her — " Was 
 not he allowed," urged the zealous Duchess, " to match his 
 daughter to the Duke of York ?" Sir Robert smiled, and 
 left her. 
 
 Sir Robert being forced from court, the Duchess thought 
 the" moment favourable, and took a new journey to Rome; 
 
 * I am not quite certain that, writing by memory at the distance of fifty 
 years, I place that journey exactly at the right period, nor whether it did 
 not take place before Sir Robert's fall. Nothing material depends on the 
 precise period. — W.
 
 53 
 
 But was detected in the bare-fac'd cheat, 
 And lost at once her friendship and estate ; 
 
 Lut conscious of the clanger she might nin of discovery, 
 she made over her estate to the famous ]\Ir. Pulteney (af- 
 terwards Earl of Bath), and left the deed in his custody. 
 "What was her astonishment, when on her return she re-de- 
 manded the instrument — It was mislaid— He could not find 
 it — He never could find it ! The Duchess grew clamorous. 
 At last his friend Lord 31ansfield told him jilainly, he could 
 never show his face unless he satisfied the Duchess. Lord 
 Bath did then sign a release to her of her estate. The 
 transaction was recorded in print by Sir Charles Hanbury 
 "Williams in a amphlet that had great vogue, called a con- 
 gratulatory letter, with many other anecdotes of the same 
 personage, and was not less acute than Sir Charles's odes on 
 the same hero. The Duchess dying not long after Sir 
 Robert's entrance into the House of Lords, Lord Oxford, one 
 of her executors, told him there, that the Duchess had 
 struck Lord Bath out of her will, and made him, Sir Robert, 
 one of her trustees in liis room. "Then," said Sir Robert 
 laugliing, " I see, my lord, that I have got Lord Bath's place 
 before he has got mine." Sir Robert had artfully pre- 
 vented the last. Before he quitted the King, he persuaded 
 his ^Majesty to insist as a preliminary to the change, that 
 Mr. Pulteney should go into the House of Peers, his great 
 credit lying in the other house ; and Iremembermy father's 
 action when he returned from court and told me what he 
 had done—" I have turned the key of the closet on him" — 
 making that motion with his hand. Pulteney had jumped 
 at the proffered earldom, but saw his enor when too late ; 
 and was so enraged at liis own oversight, that, when he
 
 54 
 
 He saw his error, and devoutly swore 
 
 To keep my ways, and never wander more. 
 
 went to take the oaths in the House of Lords, he dashed his 
 patent on the floor, and vowed he would never take it up — 
 But he had kissed the King's hand for it, and it was too late 
 to recede. 
 
 But though Madam of Buckingham could not effect a 
 coronation to her will, she indulged her pompous mind with 
 such puppet-shows as were appropriate to her rank. She 
 had made a funeral for her husband as splendid as that of 
 the great INIarlborough : she renewed that pageant for her 
 only son, a weak lad who died under age ; and for herself; 
 and prepared and decorated waxen dolls of him and of her- 
 self to be exhibited in glass-cases in Westminster-abbev. 
 It was for the procession at her son's burial that she wrote 
 to old Sarah of Marlborough to borrow the triumphal car 
 that had transported the corpse of the Duke. " It carried my 
 Lord Marlborough," replied the other, " and shall never be 
 used for any body else." " I have consulted the under- 
 taker," replied the Buckingham, " and he tells me I may 
 have a finer for twenty pounds." 
 
 One of the last acts of Buckingham's life was marrying a 
 grandson she had to a daughter of Lord Hervey. That 
 intriguing man, sore, as I have said, at his disgrace, cast his 
 eyes every where to revenge or exalt himself. Professions 
 or recantations of any principles cost him nothing : at least 
 the consecrated day which was appointed for his first inter- 
 view with the Duchess made it presumed, that to obtain 
 her wealth, with her grandson for his daughter, he must 
 liave sworn fealty to the House of Stuart. It was on the 
 martyrdom of her grandfather : she received him in the
 
 When old Lord Bradford died, besides his store 
 Of wealth, he left a bastard and a whore ;* 
 To these his chattels, jewels, goods, and plate, 
 He gave — to these bequeath'd his vast estate. 
 The bastard prov'd a fool, and by the way, 
 In Dalilah the whole reversion lay ; 
 Here the quick-sighted Pult'ney fix'd his aim, 
 i\nd in such words as these bespoke the dame: 
 " When first at our departed friend's we met, 
 " (The hour with pleasure I remember yet), 
 " In ev'ry word a care to please you show'd, 
 " And natVal grace from ev'ry motion flow'd. 
 " To your dear lord you paid such just regard, 
 " And such disinterested care appear'd : 
 
 great drawing-room ofBuckingham-house seated in a chair of 
 state in deep mourning, attended by her women in like 
 weeds, in memory of the royal martyr — W. 
 
 * Mrs. Smith had been Lord Bath's mistress, as well as 
 Lord Bradford's, and was afterwards so to Alexander Small, 
 the surgeon, with whom Lord Bath associated in the ma- 
 nagement of jNIrs. Smith ; she left her estate to the Earl in 
 case her son, Mr. Newport, should have no issue, and 
 <i'.30,000 to Small.— AV.
 
 56 
 
 " No fulsome fondness and no teasing love, 
 " By which all hypocrites their passion prove ; 
 *' But all so open, honest, I was charm'd, 
 " And quickly found my breast with friendship 
 
 warm'd ; 
 " And sure by sympathy we must agree, 
 " You hate all interested views, like m€. 
 " Permit me friendship's sacred knot to tie 
 " So fast, that nought may loose it till we die : 
 " Your name and character shall be my care ; 
 *' Against the world your champion I'll appear ; 
 ^' Support your virtue, and its foes run down, 
 " Nay, justify your usage of your son ; 
 " Him* I'll secure ; he ne'er shall see your face, 
 " Nor propagate his disobedient I'ace : - 
 
 * Lord Bath persuaded Mrs. Smith to send her son 
 abroad with a governor of his recommendation, a man of 
 A'ery bad character ; with this man Mr. Newport quarrelled 
 on the road to Turin, and ran avvay from; the governor, in- 
 stead of pursuing bis pupil, wen t on to Eome. Mr. Newport, 
 already disordered in his senses, as several of his father's 
 family had been, wandered about France for a year before 
 he found his way to England, where soon after his arrival, 
 the gave himself several wounds, and was put under the
 
 57 
 
 " I'll pass a bill for that, I'll make new laws, 
 " Or alter old ones, to advance your cause ; 
 " And since the prudish world won't care t' ap- 
 pear, 
 " Or go with you in pubhc anywhere, 
 " Because you ne'er were bound in nuptialbands, 
 " And no old drunken parson join'd your hands, 
 " Be that my consort's care, who, I may say, 
 " Pursues my gen'rous undesigning way : 
 " She'll carry you t' assemblies, to the play, 
 " To drawing-rooms by night, to park by day ; 
 " She shall attend you to your country seat ; 
 " With her you may do any thing but eat ; 
 " For now our house is alt'ring, we're not able 
 " To entertain our friends, and keep a table : 
 " She for the waters to the Bath 's gone down, 
 " And I'm at little Jeffreys's* in town ; 
 
 care of Small the surgeon. One of the first acts of Lord 
 Bath's power on the fall of Sir Robert Walpole, was, to 
 procure an Act of rarlianient for preventing lunatics from 
 marrying. — W. 
 
 * John Jeti'reys, Secretary of the Treasury.— W.
 
 58 
 
 *' But from this instant, madam, to our graves, 
 ** Where'er we are,vve're both your humble slaves ; 
 " Letme then share your toils,and ease your cares, 
 " Inspect accounts, and manage your affairs : 
 " Servants still act for their own private end; 
 " In me you'll find the servant and the friend ; 
 " Duty in me and inclination join, [mine ; 
 
 " T' advance your cause, and make your interest 
 " And on these matters since we now debate, 
 " Don't you intend to settle your estate ? 
 *' For tho' I hope your fatal hour 's not nigh, 
 *' Yet we're all mortal, madam, and must die ; 
 " And your unhappy son behaves so ill, 
 " That you must think of alt'ring your old will ; 
 " How well I lov'd him once yourself best knows, 
 ** But all that disoblige you are my foes ; 
 " And tho' 'twould be my utmost wish, I own, 
 " To see your tears of joy forgive your son, 
 " Yet of his actions I've so just a sense, 
 *' I '11 never say one word in his defence ; 
 " Since,then,he's doom'd to languish in disgrace, 
 " Friendship may justly claim the second place;
 
 59 
 
 " Tliere to the foremost place I will pretend, 
 *' To you, and to your friends alone a friend, 
 " Others, perhaps, may warmer zeal express, 
 " And clothe their low designs in friendship's 
 
 dress ; 
 ^* May falsely vow, and infamously swear, 
 " Your welfare 's their concern, your ease their 
 
 care ; 
 " Believe them not, they've no regard for you, 
 " Your wealth's their aim, and your estate their 
 
 view. 
 " I scorn the aid of guile, the help of art ; 
 ^' I act the open, but the honest part, 
 " And my tongue speaks the language of my 
 
 heart." 
 He paus'd, and Dalilah, with smiles, complies 
 To fetch his trusty lawyer : Pult'ney flies ; 
 He brings back Ord,* — they make her will — she 
 dies. 
 
 * Afterwards Chief Baroa of Scotland. — W.
 
 60 
 
 This u'oman thus this serpent did deceive, 
 Ad harder conquest than the Devil's o'er Eve ; 
 The gen'rous Devil bad her take and hve, 
 More greedy Pult'ney bad her die and give. 
 Are you not all on fire with what I've said, 
 And dost thou longer doubt these paths to tread? 
 More I could tell you, but 'tis twelve o'clock, 
 And hark, I hear my young Lord Booby knock. 
 An advantageous bargain I expect. 
 And that's such business as I ne'er neglect. 
 Go on, pursue, and merit my applause ; 
 Farewell, I go, for pow'rful int'rest draws.
 
 ^ political 32tloq\it: 
 
 (Written at the latter end of the year 1740, occa- 
 sioned by the great contest betzceen Mr. Legu- 
 me re an^ Mr. Pytts,* Torys, zcho after- 
 wards carried the Election; and Lord De re- 
 hurst f rt«^MR.LYTTLETOiN,:j: Whigs (all 
 four being violent opposers of the Court), zoho 
 should represent the County of Worcester in the 
 ensuing Parliament, to be chosen next Spring.) 
 
 THE meeting o'er, the compromise deny'd, 
 And candidates set up on either side, 
 
 • Edmund Pytts married the Dowager Countess of 
 Coventry, who lived to be near a hundred years old. 
 
 f Eldest son of the Earl of Coventry; he died before his 
 father. 
 
 $ George, eldest son of Sir Thomas Lyttleton, whom he 
 succeeded as baronet, and was afterwards created Lord 
 Lyttleton ; at the time of this Eclogue, he was Secretary to 
 Frederick Prince of Wales.— AT.
 
 62 
 
 The four competitors fly swift to horse, 
 And thro' the country as they took their course,^ 
 Two chanced to meet near Severn''s rapid streams. 
 And Lyttletonand Lechmere * were their names ; 
 One famed for deep debate, and classic taste,t 
 The other for his judgment in a beast ; 
 One minds the pubUc, one his private cares. 
 This shines in senates, and this shines in fairs ; 
 One sighs at Walpole's everlasting sway. 
 While f other mourns th' excessive price of hay ; 
 They stopp'd, when Lyttleton the silence broke, 
 And thus the Patriot to the Grazier spoke : 
 
 LYTTLETON. 
 
 " When to conclude a tedious war's alarms, 
 " Ajax and godlike Hector met in arms. 
 
 • Lechmere was a great grazier, and mere country 
 'squire — W. 
 
 •f George, the first Lord Lyttleton, had fine parts, and a 
 considerableshare of learningand political knowledge'; hehad 
 sound principles of religion, and high ideas of morality, which 
 he manifested in his conduct and conversation.— OJ. 1773.
 
 63 
 
 " Before they shook their spears, or drew their 
 
 swords, 
 *•' They paus'd, and talk'd in amicable words ; 
 ' So let us twain, hke those two generous foes, 
 " First parley hold, then, if we must, oppose. 
 
 LECHMERE. 
 
 " I never heard of Ajax, or of Hector ; 
 
 " But you would speak to me, Sir, I conjecture : 
 
 " Then pray, Sir, let your tale be briefly told, 
 
 " For standing still may give my gelding cold. 
 
 LYTTLETON. 
 
 " Then briefly thus : in vain, why should we 
 
 toil.? 
 " All culture 's fruitless in a barren soil ; 
 " What can be hoped, when friends from friends 
 
 divide, 
 " And weaken fatally the weaker side ? 
 " Our party by itself is overcome, 
 " By Roman arms thus perished fated Rome.
 
 ()"4 
 
 " Unhappy strife, what can we wish to get? 
 " Vict'ry 's a loss, and conquest a defeat. 
 " No triumph shall attend the victor's care, 
 " No laurel-crown the conqueror shall wear ; 
 " The sheriff shall with tears the cause decide, 
 " And joyless in their chairs the elected ride. 
 " Don't we in all things act and vote the same, 
 " And both on one foundation build our fame, 
 " Equally hating Walpole's noxious name ? 
 " What good from such contentions can re- 
 dound ? 
 " Whene'er we strike the party feels the wound. 
 " Whoe'er of all us four obtain their ends, 
 " The party still must lose two zealous friends ; 
 " Expenses and fatigue I can't support, 
 " Bad is my health, and small my place at 
 
 Court. 
 " I for reversions with impatience wait, 
 " Heir to a better place, and an estate ; 
 " Hear, then, why I should quietly be chose, 
 " Why you ought to assist, and not oppose.
 
 65 
 
 " Think of the high employment that I bear, 
 " I write in verse, and have ray Prince's ear. 
 '' The glorious talent to declaim is mine; 
 " In Council and in Parliament I shine. 
 " Have you not heard me? yes, you must have 
 
 heard, 
 " When Tally's spirit in each word appear'd ; 
 " When the still senate on each accent hung, 
 " And oratory dwelt upon my tongue j 
 " When I, great Liberty, thy standard bore, 
 " And Walpole pale sat trembling on the floor; 
 " When all th' applauding patriot band allow'd 
 " That I myself appear'd their leading god. * 
 " Why wouldst thou, then, my being chose 
 
 prevent, 
 " Why spoil me of my seat in Parliament? 
 " Why wouldst thou cross my warm pursuit of 
 
 praise, 
 " Why cloud the glorious sunshine of my days? 
 
 ♦ Lee's Alexander.— W. 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 
 
 K 
 
 (( 
 
 Why wouldst thou chp the wings on which 
 
 I soar, 
 Destroy my hopes of ministerial pow'r, 
 " And stop rae in my full pursuit of glory ? 
 
 LECHMERE. 
 
 " Because, Sir, you 're a Whig, and I 'm a Tory. 
 " Howe'er with us you the same schemes 
 
 pursue, 
 " You follow those who ne'er will follow you ; 
 *' My principles to you I '11 freely state, 
 " I love the church, and Whiggism I hate ; 
 " And tho', with you. Sir Robert I abhor, 
 " His Whiggish heart is what I hate him for ; 
 " And if a Whig the minister must be, 
 Pult'ney and Walpole are alike to me. 
 
 tt 
 
 LYTTLETON. 
 
 " To what remote, to what more friendly sky, 
 
 " Deserted Patriotism wilt thou fly ?* 
 
 " The Torys scorn thee and the Whigs deny. 
 
 ♦ To some new clime, or far more distant skj, 
 Oh, friendless and forsaken Virtue fiy.—Drt/den. — W,
 
 67 
 
 '* Oh ! my poor country, I thy fate deplore, 
 " Still rent by faction, and by party tore. 
 " Has all-accomplish'd St. John,* first of men, 
 " That denii-god, then, vainly drawn his pen ? 
 ** Were all his learned lectures fruitless read, 
 " Are all his works forgot, his writings dead ? 
 *' Where fell the seeds thrown from his plastic 
 
 hand, 
 " On what ungrateful, on what barren sand, 
 ** That promis'd ten-fold product to the soil, 
 " To cheer the tiller, and reward his toil ? 
 " And canst thou to the sacred name pretend 
 ** Of being Liberty's and England's friend, 
 " Who wish that faction in this realm may 
 
 thrive, 
 " And party's odious names be kept alive ? 
 " Is this thy wretched plea to merit ? — No ! 
 This proves thee Liberty's and England's 
 
 foe. 
 
 ti 
 
 * Pope's Lord Bolingbroke.— W. 
 F 2
 
 68 
 
 " Divide and govern — ministers maintain 
 " That fatal rule, which patriots should disdain. 
 " When Solomon the harlot's quarrel try'd, 
 " Nature prevail'd, and the true mother cry'd, 
 " * Oh ! let me lose my child, but don't divide !' 
 <' The minister, who well his interest knows, 
 " Amongst us strife, distinctions, variance sows; 
 " A general coalition is too wide, 
 " Too large a basis for that wretch's pride. 
 " His pow'r, his wealth, rais'd on the narrow 
 
 plan 
 " Of a small sub-divided party clan ; 
 " But now, thank Heaven, his basis proves too 
 
 small, 
 " The killing frost is come, and he must fall, 
 " Like Lucifer, never to hope again : 
 '' This England's enemy, this Freedom's bane, 
 " Shall be cut off by Patriotism's hand, 
 " And Liberty shall re-assume the land.* 
 
 * And laughing Ceres re-assume the iand. — Pope.—'W.
 
 69 
 
 LECHMERE. 
 
 " Well, Sir, with patience I have heard your 
 
 speech, 
 " Tho' half you said was much above my 
 
 reach ; 
 " But does not one thing stare you in the face ? 
 " All the whole country knows youhave a place ; 
 " And, I assure you, think it the same thing, 
 " Whether you have it from the Prince or King. 
 Go to the farmers, fine orations speak. 
 To wives talk Latin, to their husbands Greek. 
 I in plain English will the country rand, 
 " And shake each goodfreeholderby the hand, 
 " And drink the church, as long as I can stand. 
 " What tho' my words are not, like your's, 
 
 refin'd, 
 " Rough tho' they are, they always speak my 
 mind.
 
 70 
 
 " Freeholders with such language well dispense, 
 " And before all the flow'rs of eloquence, 
 " Prefer an honest heart, and common sense '^ 
 " Therefore, be wise, go home, and rand na 
 
 more, 
 " But give up, as your father did before."
 
 ISABELLA; 
 
 O K, 
 
 THE MORNING. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE Duchess of ManclicsleT is represented as rising from 
 breakfast icith her parrot, monkey, and lap-dog. — Dicky Bate- 
 man comes in with a Staffordshire tea-pot, •with which the Duchess 
 is charmed: — a simile — She makes a fine speech upon the 
 occasion, which is Iroken off by General C. ChurcMlTs coming in. 
 —His character. — His first speech. — The Duchess shows 
 him the tea-pot — SJic tells him offire-tc'orks to be sold at Margus's, 
 which gives him an opportunity of telling a story of some he saw 
 in Flanders. It appears from the very beginning of the story 
 that it could have no end.— It is broken off by the entrance of 
 Charles Stanhope. — A siinile on his coming in. — His character as 
 a companion. — He gives an account of a polypus. — TJie Duchess 
 
 longs for a polypus Both tlte Cliarles's fall fast asleep, on each 
 
 tide of the Duchess. — Contrast between Susa7ina and the two 
 elders. — The whole company roused by Lord Lovell's coming into 
 
 the 70om His character. — He talks of the Opera, of Chesterfield 
 
 and Fanny.* — Lady Fanny's looks owing to love. — The General 
 begins the story of Miss How. — The company's dismay described 
 at the GeneraVs beginning a story. — The clock strikes three. — 
 The Duchess tings to dress. — The company rises. — The departure 
 of tJie company described. 
 
 * Ladv F. Shirley.
 
 ISABELLA;* 
 
 O R, 
 
 THE MORNING. 
 
 In various talk the instructive hours they fast. 
 
 Milton-. 
 
 **^*^»*'*^0^***^***i 
 
 THE monkey, lap-dog, parrot, and her Grace, 
 Had each retired from breakfast to their place, 
 When, hark, a knock ! " See, Betty, see who 's 
 
 there :" 
 " Tis Mr. Ba teman^f ma'am, m his new chair :" 
 
 * Isabella, Duchess of Manchester, widow of the second 
 Duke, was the eldest daughter of John Duke of Montr.gu, 
 by Mary the fourth daughter of John Duke of Marlborough ; 
 she was celebrated as the most beautiful woman of her 
 age; by the Duke, who died at Eath, Oct. 1739, she had no 
 issue; she re-married Edward Hussey, who, on the death of 
 his father-in-law, assumed the npme of Montagu, which 
 expired in 1802; by the last marriage she had a son, Lord 
 Montagu, 06. 1787, and a drugbter, Isabella, bom 
 1750, oh. 1772: the Duchess died 1786, aged 94 3'ears : 
 Earl Beaulieu died 25th of November 1802. 
 
 f Richard, brother of the Lord Viscount Bateman. — W.
 
 73 
 
 " Dicky's new chair! the charming'st thing in 
 
 town, 
 " Whose poles are lacker'd, and whose lining's 
 
 brown !"" 
 But see, he enters with his shuffling gait; 
 " Lord," says her Grace, " how could you be so 
 
 late?' 
 " I 'm sorry, madam, I have made you waii,,'' 
 Bateman reply'd ; " I only stay'd 'tO bring 
 " The newest, charming'st, most delightful 
 
 thing!" 
 " Oh 1 tell me whafs the curiosity ! 
 " Oh ! show it me this instant, or I die !■" 
 To please the noble dame, the courtly 'squire 
 Produc'd a tea-pot, made in StaiTordshire : 
 With eager eyes the longing Duchess stood, 
 And o'er and o'er the shining bouble view'd : 
 Such were the joys touch'd young Atrldes' breast, 
 Such all the Grecian host at once exprest, 
 When from beneath his robe, to all their view, 
 Laertes' son, the fam'd Palladium drew.
 
 74 
 
 So Venus look'd, and with such longing eyes, 
 When Paris first produc'd the golden prize. 
 " S uch work as this,"" she cries, " canEnfland do ? 
 " It equals Dresden, and outdoes St. Cloud : 
 " All modern China now shall hide its head, 
 " And e'en Chantilly must give o'er the trade: 
 " For lace let Flanders bear away the bell, 
 " In finest linen let the Dutch excel ; 
 " For prettiest stufis let Ireland first be nam'd, 
 " And for best-fancy'd silks let France be fiim'd ; 
 " Do thou, thrice happy England ! still prepare 
 " This clay, and build thy fame on earthen-ware."" 
 More she'd have said, but that again she heard 
 The knocker — and the General appear'd. 
 
 The Gen'ral, * one of those brave old com- 
 manders. 
 Who serv'd through all the glorious wars in 
 Flanders ; 
 
 • General Churchill was a son of an elder brother of the 
 great Duke of Marlborough ; he commanded the 2nd regi-
 
 75 
 
 Frank and good-natur'd, of an honest heart. 
 Loving to act the steady friendly part : 
 None led through youth a gayer Ufe than he. 
 Cheerful in converse, smart in repartee. 
 Sweet was his night, and joyful was his day, 
 He din'd with Walpole, and with Oldfield* lay; 
 
 ment of Guards, afterwards, the 10th regiment of Light 
 Dragoons for twenty -two years; and, perhaps, died in 
 1745, Lord Viscount Cobham being appointed Colonel of 
 that regiment at this time. 
 
 • Mrs. Oldfield was taken into the house on the recom- 
 mendation of Sir John Vanbrugh ; she first acted the part 
 of Ulinda in " The Pilgrim reviv'd ;" afterwards, Leonora, in 
 " Sir Courtly Nice," where she showed all the innate powers 
 of a good actress, which proceeded from her own excellent 
 understanding: from the uncommon perfection of her 
 action, and from her personal manner of conversing, she 
 made many sentiments in the character of Lady Betty 
 Modish, in " The Careless Husband," originally her own, or 
 only dressed with a little more care than when they negli- 
 gently fell from her lively humour : had her birth placed 
 her in a higher rank of life, she had certainly appeared in 
 reality, what in this play she only excellently acted, an 
 agreeable gay woman of quality, a little too conscious of her 
 natural attraction. Women of the best rank might have 
 borrowed some part of her behaviour without the least di_ 
 minution of their sense or dignity; the variety of her powers 
 could not be known till she was seen in variety of characters.
 
 76 
 
 But with old age its vices came along, 
 And in narration he's extremely long ; 
 Exact in circumstance, and nice in dates, 
 On every subject he his tale relates. 
 If you name one of Marlbro's ten campaigns. 
 He tells you its whole history for your pains : 
 
 which, as fast as they fell to her, she equally excelled in. 
 In the wearing of her jierson she was particularly fortunate : 
 the lastnewcharactersheshonein, was Lady Towoily; shehad 
 one especial mark of good sense ; her esceUence was never at a , 
 stand; she was continually endeavouring to improve herself 
 to the last year of her life. Upon h?r extraordinpry acting ■ 
 in "The Provoked Husband," the managers made herapresent 
 of fifty guineas more than her agreement: in the last two 
 months of her illness, she declined rcceiviug her salary ; Ob. 
 1730 — She had one son by General Churchill, who lived in . 
 Lower Giosveiior-slreet, which house she left him; he 
 mamed Lady jMary AValpole, a natural daughter of Sir 
 Robert AYalpole, Ity whom he had a very beautiful family ; 
 his daughter Mary was man-ied to the late Earl of Cadogan, 
 by whom he had likewise a very beautiful and accomplished 
 family. Ladv Emilv married the Hon. and Rev.' Gerald 
 Wellesley ; Lady Charlotte married the Right Hon. Sir 
 Henry Wellesley, which marriage was dissolved by Act of 
 Parliament, and she re-married the present Marquis of 
 Anglesea ; likewise four heroic sons ; Colonel Henry was 
 slain at Vittoria ; George, Captain in the Royal Navy, and - 
 o^her issue. ■ ■■
 
 77 
 
 And Blenheim's field becomes by his reciting, 
 As long in telling as it was in fighting : 
 His old desire to please is still expressed ; 
 His hat's well cock'd, his periwig's well 
 
 dress'd : 
 He rolls his stockings still, white gloves he 
 
 wears. 
 And in the boxes with the beaux appears ; 
 His eyes through wrinkled corners cast their 
 
 rays; 
 Still he bows graceful, still soft things he says : 
 And still rememb'ring that he once was young, 
 He strains his crippled knees, and struts along. 
 The room he entev'd smilhig, which bespoke 
 Some worn-out compliment, or thread-bare joke 
 (For not perceiving loss of parts, he yet 
 Grasps at the shade of his departed wit.) 
 " How does your Grace ? I hope I see you well? 
 " What a prodigious deal of rain has fell ! 
 '' Will the sun never let us see his face ? 
 " But who can ever want a sun that sees your 
 
 Grace ?
 
 tc 
 
 78 
 
 *' Your servant, Sir — but see what I have got ! 
 
 Isn't it a prodigious charming pot f 
 ** And a'n't you vastly glad we make them here? 
 " For Dicky got it out of Staffordshire. 
 " See how the charming vine twines all about! 
 " Lord ! what a handle ! Jesus ! what a spout ! 
 " And that old Pagog, and that charming child ! 
 " If Lady Townsend* saw them, she'd be wild !" 
 
 To this the General : " Madam, who would 
 not? 
 *' Lord ! where could Mr. Bateman find ihhpot? 
 " Dear Dicky, couMn't you get one for me ? 
 " I want some useful china mightily ; 
 " Two jars, two beakers, and a pot pourri." 
 
 • Audrey Harrison, only daughter of Edward Harrison, 
 of Balls, in the county of Hertfordshire ; she was wife to 
 Charles the third Viscount Townsend, and mother of 
 George the first Marquis of Townsend, and of the cele- 
 brated and brilliant Charles Townsend, and other children.
 
 79 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Churchill, where d'ye think 1 've 
 been ? 
 " At Margus's,* and there such fire-works seen, 
 " So very pretty, charming, odd and new ; 
 " And, I assure you, theyVe right Indian too ! 
 *' I've bought them all, there's not one left in 
 
 town ; 
 " And if you were to see them, you would own 
 " You never saw such fire-works any where." 
 — *' Oh, Madam, I must beg your pardon there," 
 The Gen'ral cry'd, " for — "'twas in the year ten ; 
 " No, let me recollect, it was not then ; 
 " 'Twas in the year eight, I think, for then we 
 lay 
 
 Encamp'd, with all the army, near Cambray — 
 
 <( 
 
 • Margus's was a fashionable India warehouse, much 
 resorted to by ladies of fashion, to purchase tea, fans, fire- 
 works, and other Indian toys, which places were often per- 
 verted to places of hitrigue. Prior adverts to it, when he 
 says, 
 
 " She first of aU the town was told, 
 
 *' Where newest Indian things were sold."
 
 80 
 
 " Yes, yes, I'm sure I'm right by one event, 
 
 " We supp'd together in Cadogan's* tent 
 
 " Palmes,tMeredith, JLumIey,§ and poor George 
 
 Grove,l| 
 " And merrily the bumpers round we drove ; 
 " To Wlarlbvo's health we drank confounded 
 
 hard ; 
 " For he'd just beat the Fiench at Oudenarde; 
 
 • William, first Earl of Cadogan, took to a military life, 
 and distinguished himself in the war under King William 
 in Ireland, at the Boyne, and in Flanders in 1701 ; he was 
 made Quarter-master-general of the Army in 1703; he was 
 constituted Colonel of the 5th regiment of Dragoon Guards; 
 he behaved very gallantly at the attack at Schellenberg, and 
 in the battle of Hochstet, likewise in forcing the French 
 lines, near Tirlemont ; at Ramillies, he commanded six 
 squadrons of horse ; and he succeeded in taking Antwerp, 
 in which was six French and six Spanish regiments ; he, on 
 the death of Mr. Stepney, succeeded him as envoy.— 06. 
 July 1726. 
 
 f Palmes (General Francis), was Colonel of the 6th re- 
 giment of Dragoon Guards from 1706 to 1712. 
 
 :J: Meredith was Colonel of the 20th regiment of the line. 
 
 § Lumley was Colonel of the 1st Dragoon Guards. 
 
 11 Grove was Colonel of the 19th regiment of foot.
 
 81 
 
 " And Lord Cadogan then had got, by chance, 
 " The best champaign that ever came from 
 
 France ; 
 " And 'twas no wonder that it was so good, 
 " For some draooons had seized it on the 
 
 road; 
 " And they had heard from those they took it 
 
 from, 
 " It was design'd a present for Vendome. 
 *' So we — " But see, another Charles's face 
 Cuts short the Gen'ral, and relieves her Grace. 
 
 So, when one crop-sick parson in a dose, 
 Is reading morning-service through his nose, 
 Another, in the pulpit, straight appears, 
 Claiming the tir'd-out congregation's ears, 
 And with a duller sermon ends their pray'rs. 
 For this old Charles is full as dull as t'other, 
 Bsevius to Msevius was not more a brother ; 
 From two defects his talk no joy affords, 
 From want of matter, and from want of 
 words. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 8^ 
 
 " I hope," says he, " your Grace is well to- 
 day, 
 " And caught no cold by venturing to the play!" 
 " Oh, Sir, I 'm mighty well — won't you sit down ? 
 " Pray, Mr. Stanhope,* what's the news in 
 town ?" 
 
 " Madam, I know of none; but I'm just come 
 " From seeing a curiosity at home : 
 " 'Twas sent to Martin Folkes,t as being rare, 
 " And he and Desaguliers brought it there : 
 " It's call'd a Po/j/^jms." J— "What's that?"— A 
 
 creature, 
 " The wonderful'st of all the works of nature: 
 
 * Charles Stanhope was an elder brother of the first Earl 
 of Harrington ; in 1791-2 he was Secretary to the Trea- 
 sury; he served in every Parliament, from 1714 to 1760, 
 and was much talked of for his concern in the South Sea 
 business.— 06. 1760, act. 87, unmarried. 
 
 ■f President of the Royal Society. 
 
 X The fresh-water Polypus, an insect which has this sur- 
 prising property, that being cut into several pieces, each 
 piece lives, and in a short time becomes as perfect an insect 
 as that of which it was originally only a part ; it can 
 swallow a worm twice or thrice as long as itself; it
 
 m 
 
 "Hither it came from Holland, where 'twas 
 
 caught 
 " (I should not say it came, for it was brought) ; 
 " To-morrow we're to have it at Crane-court,* 
 " And 'tis a reptile of so strange a sort, 
 " That if 'tis cut in two, it is not dead ; 
 " Its head shoots out a tail, its tail a head ; 
 " Take out its middle, and observe its ends, 
 " Here a head rises, there a tail descends ; 
 " Or cut off any part that you desire, 
 " That part extends, and makes itself entire : 
 " But what it feeds on still remains a doubt, 
 " Or how it generates, is not found out : 
 
 grows in proportion to what it eats. The manner in which 
 these insects multiply is e\ndently by vegetation ; there is 
 not on the body of the Polypus any distinguished place by 
 which it brings forth its young; when one drops oflfi 
 another comes in its place ; take one, put it in perfect 
 solitude in a glass, it will multiply, and if you feed them, 
 their offspring Avill do the like, more or less, according to 
 the plenty of food. 
 
 ■f The Royal Society was held in Crane-court, Fleet- 
 street, at tliis time. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 
 
 " But at our Board, to-morrow, 'twill appear, 
 " And then 'twill be consider'd and made clear, 
 " For all the learned body will be there." 
 
 " Lord, I must see it, or Vm undone," 
 The Duchess cry'd, " pray can't you get me 
 
 one? 
 " I never heard of such a thing before, 
 *' I long to cut it and make fifty more ; 
 " I'd have a cage made up in taste for mine, 
 " And, Dicky — you shall give me a design." 
 
 But here the Gen'ral to a yawn gave way, 
 And Stanhope had not one more word to say, 
 So stretch'd on easy chairs in apathy they lay ; 
 And, on each side the goddess they ador'd. 
 One Charles sat speechless, and the other snor'd. 
 When chaste Susanna's all-subduing charms 
 Made two old lovers languish for her arms, 
 Soon as her eyes had thawM the frost of age, 
 Their passions mounted into lustful rage ;
 
 8a 
 
 Witli brutal violence they attacked their prey, 
 And almost bore the wish'd-for prize away. 
 
 Hail happy Duchess! 'twixttvvo Elders plac'd, 
 Whose passions brutal lust has ne'er disgrac'd ; 
 No warm expressions make your blushes rise, 
 No ravish'd kiss shoots light'ning from your eyes : 
 Let them but visit you, they ask no more, 
 Guiltless they 'II gaze, and innocent adore. 
 
 But hark ! a louder knock than all before — 
 ' Lord !" says her Grace, " they '11 thunder 
 
 down my door !" 
 Into the room see sweating Lovel * break. 
 The Duchess rises, and the Elders wake: 
 
 • Lord Lovel was son to Coke, Earl of I^eicester ; he 
 married Lady !Mary Campbell, youngest daughter to the 
 Duke of Argyle, a match negociated by the Countesses of 
 Leicester and Gower. Mr. "NValpole observes, that " Lady 
 Mary, after consenting, cried her eyes out, that he has 
 made her four visits, and is so in love with her, that he 
 writes to her every other day ; 'tis a strange match ; she 
 objects to his loving none of her sex, but the four queens 
 in a pack of cards ; but he promises to abandon ^A■hite's, and 
 both clubs for her sake." — W.
 
 86 
 
 Love], — the oddest character in town ; 
 
 A lover, statesman, connoisseur, buffoon : 
 
 Extract him well, this is his quintessence, 
 
 Much folly, but more cunning, and some sense; 
 
 To neither party in his heart inclined, 
 
 He steer'd twixt both with politics refin'd, 
 
 Voted with Walpole, and with Pultney din'd. 
 
 His lordship makes a bow, and takes his seat, 
 Then opens with preliminary chat : 
 " I 'm glad to see your Grace — the Gen'ral too — 
 " Old Charles, how is it? Dicky ! how d'ye do? 
 " Madam, I hear that you were at the play, 
 '' You did not say one word on't yesterday ; 
 " I went, who'd no engagement any where, 
 " To th' Opera." — " Were there many people 
 
 there ?" 
 The Duchess cry'd. — " Yes, Madam, a great 
 
 many," 
 Says Lovel — " There were Chesterfield and 
 
 Fanny* 
 
 * Ladj Frances Shirley, a much celebrated beauty.
 
 87 
 
 " In that eternal whisper which begun 
 " Ten years ago, and never will be done ; 
 " For the' you know he sees her ev'ry day, 
 " Still he has ever sometiiing new to say ; 
 " There 's nothing upon earth so hard to me, 
 " As keeping up discourse eternally ; 
 " He never lets the conversation fall, 
 '' And I 'm sure Fanny can't keep up the ball ; 
 " I saw that her replies were never long, 
 " And with her eyes she answer'd for her tongue : 
 " Poor I ! am forc'd to keep my distance now, 
 " She won't ev'n curt'sy if 1 make a bow." 
 
 " Why, things are strangely chang'd," the 
 
 Gen'ral cry'd ; 
 " Ay, fortune de la guerre" my lord reply'd : 
 " But you and I, Charles, hardly find things so, 
 " As we both did some twenty years ago." 
 " And take off twenty years," reply'd her Grace, 
 " 'Twould do no harm to Lady Fanny's face ; 
 " My Lord, you never see her but at night, 
 " By th' advantageous help of candle-light :
 
 88 
 
 " Drest out with ev'ry aid that is adorning, — 
 " Oh, if your lordship saw her in a morning ! 
 " It is no more than Fanny * once so fair ; 
 " No roses bloom, no lilies flourish there : 
 " But hollo v/ eyes, and pale and faded cheek, 
 " Repentance,love, and disappointment speak." 
 
 The GenVal found a lucky minute now 
 To speak — " Ah, Ma'am,you did not know Miss 
 
 Howe;"t 
 J '11 tell you all her history, he cry'd — 
 At this Charles Stanhope gap'd extremely wide ; 
 Poor Dicky sat on thorns, her Grace turn'd pale, 
 And Lovel trembl'd at th' impending tale. 
 " Poor girl ! faith she was once extremely fair, 
 " Till worn by love, and tortur'd by despair : 
 
 » Alluding to Lord Chesterfield's Song, " When Fanny 
 blooming fair." 
 
 -f- Miss Sophia Howe, maid of honour to Queen Caroline 
 (when Princess), left Court upon an intrigue with Anthony 
 Lowther, brother to Lord Lonsdale ; Lord Hervey wrote 
 his Epistle from Minimie to Philocles for her.— W.
 
 89 
 
 ** Her pining looks betray'd her inward smart; 
 " Her breaking face foretold her breaking heart. 
 " At Leicester-house her passion first began, 
 " And Nanty Lowther was a pretty man : 
 '* But when the Princess did to Kew remove, 
 " She could not bear the absence of her love ; 
 " Away she flew." — But here the clock struck 
 
 three ; 
 So did some pitying deity decree ; 
 The Duchess rings to dress — and see her maid 
 With all the apparatus for her head ; 
 Th' adoring circle can no longer stay, 
 Each rises, bows, and goes his different way. 
 To ancient Boothby 's* ancient Churchill 's flown ; 
 Home to his dinner Stanhope goes alone : 
 Dicky to fast with her, her Grace invites, 
 And Lovell's coachman drives unbid to White's.f 
 
 • Mr. Boothby, friend of the General, 
 t ^V^ute's Club, St. James's-street.
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 HONOURABLE HENRY FOX * 
 
 On the Marriage of the Duchess of' Manchester 
 to Edward Hussey, Esq. afterwards Lord 
 Beaulieu. 
 
 CLIO, behold this glorious day, 
 The zephyrs blow, the sun looks gay, 
 
 The sky one perfect blue ; 
 Can you refuse at such a time, 
 When Fox and 1 both beg for rhyme. 
 
 To sing us something new? 
 
 • First Lord Holland, Father of Charles Fox.
 
 91 
 
 The goddess smil'd, and thus begun : 
 " Pve got a fav'rite theme, my son, 
 
 " I '11 sing the conquer'd Duchess; 
 " I'll sing of that disdainful fair, 
 " Who, 'scap'd from Scotch and EngUsh snare, 
 
 " Is fast in Irish clutches. 
 
 " Fall'n is her pow'r, her sway is o'er, 
 " She '11 be no more ador'd, no more 
 
 " Shine forth the pubhc care : 
 " Oh ! what a falling off is here, 
 " From her whose frowns made wisdom fear, 
 
 " Whose scorn begot despair ! 
 
 " Wide was the extent of her commands, 
 " Cer fertile fields, o'er barren sands 
 
 " She stretch'd her haughty reign : 
 '' The coxcomb, fool, and man of sense, 
 " Youth, manhood, age, and impotence, 
 
 " With pride receiv'd her chain. 
 
 " Here Leicester offer'd brutal love, 
 " Here gentle Carberry gently strove
 
 92 
 
 " With sighs to fan desire ; 
 " Here Churchill snor'd his hours away, 
 " Here too Charles Stanhope every day 
 
 " Sat out her Grace's fire. 
 
 " Here constant Dicky * too we saw 
 " Kneeling with reverential awe, 
 
 " T' adore his high-flown choice ; 
 " Where you, ray Fox, have passM whole days, 
 " Forgetting king's and people's praise, 
 
 " Deaf to ambition's voice. 
 
 " What clothes you'd made ! how fine you drest ! 
 " What Dresden China for your feast! 
 
 " But I '11 no longer tease you ; 
 " Yet 'tis a truth you can't deny, 
 " Tho' Lady Carolinef is nigh, 
 
 " And does not look quite easy. 
 
 * Mr. Richard Bateman. 
 
 t Lady Caroline Lenox, whom he married.
 
 93 
 
 " But careful heaven reserv'd her grace 
 " For one of the Milesian race, 
 
 " On stronger parts depending ; 
 " Nature, indeed, denies them sense, 
 " But gives them legs and impudence, 
 
 " That beats all understanding. 
 
 " Which to accomplish, Hussey came, 
 " Op'ning before the noble dame 
 
 " His honourable trenches ; 
 " Nor of rebukes or frou'ns afraid, 
 " He push'd his way (he knew his trade), 
 
 " And won the place by inches. 
 
 " Look down, St. Patrick ! with success 
 " Like Hussey's all the Irish bless, 
 
 " May they all do as he does ; 
 " And still preserve their breed the same, 
 " Cast in his mould, made in his frame, 
 
 " To comfort EngUsh widows."
 
 AN ODE, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE ATJTIIOP. OF 
 
 ''THE CONQUER'D DUCHESS:' 
 
 In Anmer to that celebrated Performance. 
 
 WHAT clamour 's here about a dame 
 Who, for her pleasure, barters fame ! 
 
 As if 'twere strange or new. 
 That ladies should themselves disgrace, 
 Or one of the Milesian face 
 
 A widow should pursue. 
 
 She's better sure than Scudamore,* 
 Who, while a Duches8,t play'd the whore. 
 
 • Miss Scudamore, only child and heir of Viscount 
 
 Scudamore, of Home Lacy ; she married Henry, third 
 
 Duke 
 t Duchess of Beaufort.
 
 95 
 
 As all the world has heard : 
 Wiser than Lady Harriet too,* 
 Whose foolish match made such a do, 
 
 And ruin'd her and Beard.f 
 
 Yet she is gay as Lady Vane,:|: 
 
 Who, should she list her am'rous train, 
 
 Duke of Beaufort, from whom she was divorced in 1743, 
 and re-married Charles Fitzroy, natural son of the first 
 Duke of Grafton, by whom she had a daughter, who maixied 
 Charles, eleventh Duke of Norfolk, but had no issue by 
 the Duke. 
 
 * Lady Harriet Powys. 
 
 f A Singer at the Playhouse. 
 
 X Miss Hawes, da\ighter of a South-Sea director, and 
 widow of Lord William Hamilton. She re -married William, 
 second Viscount Vane, who was remarkable for his eccen- 
 tricities, and for the impnidence with which he squandered 
 away a large fortune, till a life begun in wasteful affluence, 
 closed, in 1781), under the sufferings of long pecuniary em- 
 barrassment. She was a lady whose name in the annals of 
 gallantry was long too conspicuous; her Memoirs, said to be 
 written by herself, may be found in a well-known Novel of 
 Smollett's.
 
 96 
 
 Might fairly man a fleet ; 
 Sprightly as Orford's Countess* she, 
 And as the wanton Tovvnshend -f free, 
 
 And more than both discreet. 
 
 For she had patience first to wed 
 Before she took the man to bed ; 
 
 And can you say that's bad ? 
 Like Diomede's, your arrows rove : 
 Like him, you wound the Queen of Love, 
 
 And may, hke him, run mad. 
 
 There was, Sir Knight, there was a time. 
 If you invok'd your muse for rhyme. 
 
 That all the world stood gazing ; 
 You sung us then of folks that sold, 
 Themselves and country too for gold. 
 
 Or something as amazing : 
 
 * Margaret Rolle, second Countess of Orford.— 0&. 
 1781. 
 
 t Miss Harrison.
 
 97 
 
 How Sands, in sense and person queer, 
 Jump'd from a patriot to a peer, 
 
 No mortal yet knows why ; 
 How Pulteney trucked the fairest fame 
 For a Right Honourable name 
 
 To call his vixen * by. 
 
 How Compton rose, when Walpole fell, 
 'Twas you, and only you could tell, 
 
 And all the scene disclos''d ; 
 How Vanef and Rushout,;]; Bathurst,§ Gower, 
 Were cursM and stigmatisM by power, 
 
 And rais'd to be expos'd. 
 
 • Miss Mary Gumley. 
 
 f On the fall of Sir Robert Walpole, Vane was ajjpointed 
 Vice-Treasurer, Receiver-General, and Paymaster-General 
 of all his Majesty's Revenues in Ireland, and was made one 
 of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury. — Oh. 1758. 
 
 X Sir John Rushout, the 4th Baronet, was a leading op- 
 ponent against Sir Robert Walpole. On the fall of that 
 minister he was made a Lord of the Treasury, afterwards 
 Treasurer of the Navy ; he lived to a great age, preserving 
 his memory, good-humour, and politeness to the last. — Ob. 
 1775, cet. 91, 
 
 § Allen, the first Earl Bathurst, on the fall of Sir Robert 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 
 
 ^To heights hke these your Muse should fly. 
 To others leave the middle sky. 
 
 Whose wings are weak and flaggy : 
 Leave these to some young Foppington, 
 Who takes your leavings, Woffington, 
 
 And tunes his odes to Peggy. 
 
 For you, who know the sex so well, 
 Must own that women most excel 
 
 When ruling, or when rul'd: 
 While young they others lead astray ; 
 When old, they ev'ry call obey, 
 
 Still fooling, or befool'd. 
 
 Scheme upon scheme must still succeed, 
 They every coxcomb's tale must heed, 
 
 Walpole, was appointed Captain of the Band of Gentlemen 
 Pensioners ; his Lordship's abilities and integrity in public 
 life gained him the esteem even of his political opponents. 
 Mr. Pope pays him a just and fine compliment : — 
 
 " Who then shall grace, or who improve the soil ; 
 
 " Who plants like Bathurst, or who builds like Boyle ?"
 
 99 
 
 Until their brains grow muzzy ; 
 And then by one false step 'tis seen, 
 How shght the difF'rence is between 
 
 The Duchess and the Hussey. 
 
 H 2
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 STEPHEN POYNTZ,* ESQ. 
 
 8^c. S)~c. ^c. 
 
 Sensere quid mens rite, quid indoles 
 Nutritajhustis sub penetralibus 
 Posset 
 
 Doctrina sed vim promovet insitam, 
 Rectique cultus fectora roborant. 
 
 Hon. Od. 4., Lib. 4. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHILST William'sf deeds and William's praise 
 Each English breast with transport raise, 
 
 • Stephen Poyntz, of Midgeham, in Berkshire, the ma- 
 ternal grandfather of the present Earl Spencer, of the 
 late Duchess of Devonshire, and Countess of Besborough. 
 
 t William, Duke of Cumberland, was bom 1721 ; he dis- 
 tinguished himself at the battle of Dettingen, where he
 
 101 
 
 Each English tongue employ ; 
 Say, Poyntz, if thy elated heart 
 Assumes not a superior part, 
 
 A larger share of joy ? 
 
 II. 
 
 But that thy country's high affairs 
 Employ thy time, demand thy cares, 
 
 was wounded. In 1745 he commanded the British forces 
 on the continent ; on the breaking out of the Scotch Rebel- 
 lion, he had the entire command of the English army, and 
 gained the decisive victory over the rebels, at CuUoden; 
 but he was not equally successful in Flanders, in 1747, 
 which was owing to the variance between him and the Prince 
 of Orange. " Our two young heroes do not agree," said Mr. 
 Pelham : " the Duke is open, frank, resolute, and perhaps 
 hasty ; the Prince is assuming, pedantic, rationating, and 
 tenacious." In 1757 the Duke commanded an army of ob- 
 servation to defend the Electorate tenitories; but he had 
 too small a body of troops to complete liis i)urpose. In 
 October 1757, he resigned all his military employments, 
 and spent the remainder of his life in retirement and rural 
 improvements ; he died suddenly in his liouse in Upper- 
 Grosvenor-street, October 1765. Lord Walpole's opinion
 
 J 02 
 
 You should renew your flight; 
 
 You only should this theme pursue 
 
 Who can for William feel like you, 
 
 Or who like you can write? 
 
 III. 
 
 Then to rehearse the hero's praise, 
 To paint this sunshine of his days, 
 
 The pleasing task be mine — 
 To think on all thy cares o'er paid, 
 To view the hero you have made, 
 
 That pleasing part be thine. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Who first should watch, and who call forth 
 This youthful Prince's various worth, 
 
 of him was, " that no Prince appeared to have been endowed 
 with greater talents, could have a better understanding, or 
 a quicker apprehension, or a more engaging or agreeable 
 way of delivering his own or hearing the sentiments of 
 others.
 
 103 
 
 You had the pubhc voice ; 
 Wisely his royal Sire consign'd 
 To thee the culture of his mind, 
 
 And Ensrland blest the choice. 
 
 You taught him to be early known 
 By martial deeds of courage shown : 
 
 From this, near Mona's flood, 
 By his victorious Father led, 
 He flesh'd his maiden sword, he shed 
 
 And prov'd th' illustrious blood. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Of Vntue's various charms you taught 
 With happiness and glory fraught, 
 
 How her unshaken pow'r 
 Is independent of success ; 
 That no defeat can make it less. 
 
 No conquest make it more.
 
 104 
 
 VIT. 
 
 This after Tournay's fatal day, 
 'Midst sorrow, cares, and dire dismay, 
 
 Brought calm and sure relief; 
 He scrutiniz'd his noble heart, 
 Found virtue had performed her pait, 
 
 And peaceful slept the chief. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 From thee he early learnt to feel 
 
 The Patriot's warmth for England's weal ; 
 
 (True Valour's noblest spring) 
 To vindicate her Church distrest ; 
 To fight for Liberty opprest ; 
 
 To perish for his King. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Yet say, if in thy fondest scope 
 Of thought, you ever dar'd to hope
 
 10.5 
 
 That bounteous Heav"*!! so soon 
 Would pay thy toils, reward thy care, 
 Consenting bend to ev'ry pray'r, 
 
 And all thy wishes crown. 
 
 X. 
 
 We saw a wretch with trait'rous aid, 
 Our King's and Church's right invade; 
 
 And thine, fair Liberty ! 
 We saw thy Hero fly to war, 
 Beat down Rebellion, break her spear, 
 
 And set the nations free. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Cullodeu's field, my glorious theme, 
 My rapture, vision, and my dream, 
 
 Gilds the young Hero's days : 
 Yet can there be one English heart 
 That does not give thee, Poyntz, thy part, 
 
 And own thy share of praise?
 
 106 
 
 XTI. 
 
 Nor is thy fame to thee decreed 
 
 For Ufe's short date : when William's head, 
 
 For victories to come, 
 The frequent laurel shall receive; 
 Chaplets for thee our sons shall weave, 
 And hang them on thy tomb.
 
 AN ODE 
 
 ox THE 
 
 DEATH OF MATZEL,* 
 
 A FAVOURITE BULL-FINCH: 
 
 Addressed to Philip Stanhope, Esq. to whom 
 the Aulhor had given the lievenioii of it when 
 he left Dresden. 
 
 I. 
 
 TRY not, my Stanhope,t 'tis in vain 
 To stop your tears, to hide your pain, 
 
 * Letter from Sir Cuarles Hanbury Williams to 
 Philip Stanhope, Esq. then at Leipsig. 
 
 " Dear Stanhope ; Dresden, lOth June, 1748. 
 
 " A cursed large, frightful, blood-thirsty, horrible, fierce 
 black cat, got into my room on Saturday night, and yester- 
 day morning we found some few remains of ^Matzel, but 
 traces enough to prove he had been murdered in the night 
 by that infernal cat ; Stevens cried, Dick cursed and 
 swore, and I stood dumb with grief, which I believe would 
 have choked me, if I had not given vent to it in the follow- 
 ing Ode, which I have addressed to you, to make you the 
 onlv amends in my power for the loss of sensible, obedient, 
 harmonious Matzel." 
 
 ■\- Mr. Stanhope was the natural son of Lord Chesterfield, 
 to whom his Letters are addressed.
 
 108 
 
 Or check your honest rage ; 
 Give sorrow aiid revenge their scope, 
 My present joy, your future hope, 
 
 Lies murder'd in his cage. 
 
 II. 
 
 MatzeFs no more, ye graces, loves, 
 Ye linnets, nightingales and doves. 
 
 Attend th' untimely bier ; 
 Let ev'ry sorrow be exprest, 
 Beat with your wings each mournful breast. 
 
 And drop the nat'ral tear. 
 
 III. 
 
 in height of song, in beauty's pvide, 
 By fell Grimalkin's claws he died — 
 B«t vengeance shall have way : 
 On pains and torture I'll refine ; 
 Yet, Matzel, that one death of thine, 
 His nine v.ill ill repay.
 
 109 
 
 IV. 
 
 For thee, my bird, the sacred JVine, 
 Who lov'd thy tuneful notes, shall join 
 
 In thy funereal verse : 
 My painful task shall be to write 
 Th' eternal dirge which they indite, 
 
 And hang it on thy hearse. 
 
 V. 
 
 In vain I lov'd, in vain I mourn 
 My bird, who, never to return, 
 
 Is fled to happier shades. 
 Where Lesbia shall for him prepare 
 The place most charming, and most fair 
 
 Of all th' Elysian glades. 
 
 VI. 
 
 There shall thy notes in cypress grove 
 
 Soothe wretched ghosts that die for love : 
 
 There shall thy plaintive strain 
 Lull impious Phaedra's endless grief, 
 To Procris yield some short relief. 
 And soften Dido's pain.
 
 110 
 
 VII. 
 
 Till Proserpine, by chance, shall hear 
 Thy notes, and make thee all her care, 
 
 And love thee with my love ; 
 While each attendant's soul shall praise 
 The matchless MatzePs tuneful lays, 
 
 And all his songs approve.
 
 A BALLAD: 
 
 IN IMITATION OF MARTIAL, 
 
 Lib. 6, Ep. S^. 
 
 ON LADY ILCHESTER* ASKING LORD ILCHESTER 
 HOW MANY KISSES HE WOULD HAVE. 
 
 (Written at Redlynch, in Atigiist, 1740.^ 
 To the Tune of " Dear Colin, grevent my warm blushes." 
 
 DEAR Betty, come, give me sweet kisses, 
 
 For sweeter no girl ever gave : 
 But why in the midst of our bhsses. 
 
 Do you ask me how many I 'd have ? 
 I 'm not to be stinted in pleasure, 
 
 Then prithee, dear Betty, be kind ; 
 For as I love thee beyond measure. 
 
 To numbers I '11 not be confin'd. 
 
 '" • Elizabeth Strangways Homer, wife of Stephen Fox, 
 Earl of Ilchester.
 
 112 
 
 Count the bees that on Hybla are straying, 
 
 Count the flow'rs that enamel the fields, 
 Count the flocks that on Tempe are playinoj, 
 
 Or the grains that each Sicily yields ; 
 
 Count how many stars are in Heaven, 
 Go reckon the sands on the shore. 
 And when so many kisses you've given 
 
 I still shall be asking for more. 
 
 To a heart full of love let me hold thee, 
 
 A heart that, dear Betty, is thine ; 
 In my arms I '11 for ever enfold thee, 
 
 And curl round thy neck like a vine. 
 What joy can be greater than this is? 
 
 My life on thy lips shall be spent ; 
 But those who can number their kisses 
 
 Will always with [ew be content.
 
 AN ODE 
 
 ON 
 
 MISS HARRIET HANBURY, 
 
 AT SIX YEARS OLD. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHY should 1 thus employ my time, 
 To paint those cheeks of rosy hue ? 
 
 Why should I search my brains for rhyme, 
 To sing those eyes of glossy blue ? 
 
 II. 
 
 The pow'r as yet is all in vain, 
 
 Thy numerous charms, and various graces ; 
 They only serve to banish pain. 
 
 And light up joy in parents faces. 
 
 VOL. I. 1
 
 114 
 
 III. 
 
 But soon those eyes their strength shall feel ; 
 
 Those charms their powerful sway shall find ; 
 Youth shall in crouds before you kneel, 
 
 And own your empire o'er mankind. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then, when on Beauty's throne you sit. 
 And thousands court your wish'd-for arms. 
 
 My Muse shall stretch her utmost wit. 
 To sing the vict'ries of your charms. 
 
 V. 
 
 Charms that in time shall ne'er be lost, 
 At least while verse like mine endures : 
 
 And future Hanburys shall boast. 
 
 Of verse like mine, of charms like yours.
 
 115 
 
 VI. 
 
 A little vain we both may be, 
 
 Since scarce another house can shew, 
 A poet, that can sing like me, 
 
 A beauty, that can charm like you. 
 
 UjLllhi 
 
 1 3
 
 A SONG 
 
 ON 
 
 MISS HARRIET HANBURY, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 THE REV. MR. BIRT. 
 
 1. 
 DEAR doctor of St. Mary's 
 In the hundred of Bergavenny, 
 I 've seen such a lass, 
 With a shape and face, 
 As never was match'd by any. 
 
 II. 
 
 Such wit, such bloom, and beauty, 
 Has this girl of Ponty Pool, Sir, 
 With eyes that would make 
 The toughest heart ache. 
 And the wisest man a fool. Sir.
 
 117 
 
 III. 
 
 At our fair t'other day she appeared, Sir, 
 And the Welch men all flock'd and vievv'd her; 
 And all of them said, 
 She was fit to have been made 
 A wife for Owen Tudor. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They would ne'er have been tir'd with gazing, 
 And so much her charms did please, Sir, 
 
 That all of them stay'd, 
 
 Till their ale grew dead, 
 And cold was their toasted cheese, Sir. 
 
 V. 
 
 How happy the lord of the manor, 
 That shall be of her possest, Sir ; 
 
 For all must agree. 
 
 Who my Harriet shall see. 
 She's a Harriet of the best. Sir,
 
 118 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then pray make a ballad about her ; 
 We know you have wit if you 'd show it, 
 
 Then don't be asham'd, 
 
 You can never be blam'd, 
 For a prophet is often a poet. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But why don't you make one yourself, then? 
 I suppose I by you shall be told. Sir : 
 
 This beautiful piece, 
 
 Alas, is my niece ; 
 And besides, she 's but five years old, Sir. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But tho', my dear friend, she's no older, 
 In her face it may plainly be seen. Sir, 
 
 That this angel at five. 
 
 Will, if she's alive. 
 Be a goddess at fifteen. Sir.
 
 ON THE 
 
 DEATH OF 
 
 LADY ABERGAVENNY:* 
 
 BY A LADY. 
 
 YE Muses all, and pitying virgins, come 
 And pour your tears on poor Calista's tomb. 
 In the cold mansions of the silent grave, 
 May her remains a sanctuary have 
 From the malignant blasts of sland'rous tongues. 
 Who have pursued her name with cruel wrongs; 
 
 " Catherina Tatton, daughter of Lieutenant-general 
 • Tatton, and wife of Edward, thirteenth Lord Abergavenny ; 
 he dying in IT?*, in the 19th year of his age, his wife 
 re-married, in 1 725, "NVilliam, fourteenth Lord Abergavenny, 
 his successor, she dying 4th of December, 17^9, in chihlbed, 
 in less than one month after the detection of a criminal 
 correspondence with llichard Lyddel, Esq. against whom 
 Lord A. brought an action for damages, and recovered tive 
 thousand pounds
 
 120 
 
 May all her faults for ever be foroot. 
 And let not calumny her mem'ry blot. 
 Unhappy nymph ! let none her crime upbraid, 
 By love and too much gentleness betray'd; 
 And, oh ! for ever may his name be curst, 
 Of spotted villains be he rank'd the first, 
 Who, with a base revenge and malice fii'd, 
 Fierce jealousy in her stern Lord inspired. 
 Inhuman wretch ! Sure now thy woes begin, 
 And thou already hast thy hell within. 
 While pitying Heaven, with mercy, sees her fate, 
 And kindly takes her to a happier state, 
 Pardons the fault she so sincerely raourn''d, 
 And joys to see a penitent returned. 
 But, oh ! ye railers, ye abandon'd few, 
 How ill your Master's precepts ye pursue : 
 Reflect, when God himself was here below, 
 What mercy he did to a sinner show. 
 And bade the guiltless only throw a stone ; 
 Straight all retir'd, and left her there alone : 
 With majesty he rais'd his awful head. 
 And mildly to the tender creature said.
 
 121 
 
 " Again thy life and freedom I restore; 
 " Now, go thy way, and look thou sin no more." 
 Th' accusing Jews were juster far than you, 
 By conscience self-condemn''d,they all withdrew; 
 But amongst those who mangle thus her fame, 
 How many's crimes, tho' not their fates the same ! 
 Henceforth for ever cease her name to tax, 
 Nor with foul calumny abuse her sex. 
 
 w<^Vrrc«
 
 ON 
 
 LADY ABERGAVENNY 
 
 BY CHARLES, DUKE OF DORSET. 
 
 YOUNG, thoughtless, gay, unfortunately fair, 
 Her pride to please, and pleasure all her care ; 
 With too much kindness and too little art. 
 
 * 
 
 Prone to indulge the dictates of the heart; 
 
 Flatter''d by all, solicited, admir'd, 
 
 By women envied, and by men desir'd : 
 
 At once from full prosperity she 's torn. 
 
 By friends deserted, of defence forlorn, 
 
 ExposM to talk, to insults, want, and scorn ; 
 
 By every idle tongue her story told. 
 
 The novel of the young, the lecture of the old ; 
 
 But let the scoffer or the prude relate. 
 
 With rigour's utmost force her hapless fate ; 
 
 Good nature still to soft compassion wrought. 
 
 Shall weep her ruin, while it owns her fault.
 
 123 
 
 For if her conduct, in some steps betray'd, 
 To virtue's rule too little reverence paid, 
 Yet, dying, still she show'd, so dear her fame, 
 She could survive her guilt, but not her shame 
 Her honour dearer than her life she provM, 
 And dearer far than both, the man she lov'd. 
 
 ^^
 
 SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS 
 
 TO 
 
 SIR HANS SLOANE,* 
 
 WHO SAVED HIS LIFE, AND DESIRED HIM TO SEND 
 OVER ALL THE RARITIES HE COULD FIND IN 
 HIS TRAVELS. 
 
 SINCE you, dear Doctor, sav'd my life, 
 To bless by turns, and plague, my wife ; 
 
 * Sir Hans Sloane was a native of the county of Down, 
 and was born 1660 ; he had his medical education in France, 
 under Tournefbrt and De Vemcy ; at 2i years of age he 
 was immediately admitted a member of the Royal Society, 
 and was introduced at the recommendation of Drs. Lyster 
 and the great Sydenham; the latter took him into his 
 house, and became his declared patron ; he had great pros- 
 pects of success in the metropolis, but his ardour for the 
 pursuits of natural history and botany, induced him to 
 accept the post of Physician to the Duke of Albemarle, 
 Governor of Jamaica ; on the Duke's death, he had made
 
 125 
 
 In conscience, \\n obliged to do 
 Whatever is enjoin'd by you. 
 
 such diligent use of his time, that in 15 months he brought 
 back with him a rich treasure of subjects in the different 
 kingdoms of nature, amongst which were 800 species of 
 plants ; he speeilily rose to excellence ; in 1693, he was 
 elected Secretary to the Royal Society, and Physician to 
 Christ's Hospital ; in 1695 he married the daughter of Alder- 
 man liangley, by whom he had three daughters and a son ; 
 the two daughters that survived, were married into emi- 
 nent English families, the eldest to the father of the late 
 Earl of Cadogan : his great work was, the Natural History of 
 Jamaica; in 1708 he was elected member of the Fi-ench 
 Academy of Sciences ; Queen Anne frequently consulted 
 him, and George I. made him Physician-Cieneral to the 
 Army, and created him a Baronet, and the College of 
 Physicians elected him their President ; on the death of the 
 great Newton, the Royal Society elected him successor ; on 
 the accession of George II. he was made that King's Phy- 
 sician ; he purchased the Manor of Chelsea, and formed the 
 Botanical Garden there, and made a free gift of the fee- 
 simple of it to the Company of Apothecaries ; at the age of 
 80 he retired from his profession, and lived with great com- 
 fort and respect for 12 years after ; he bequeathed aU his 
 vast collections of natural history, gems, MSS. books, &c. 
 to the public, on the condition of Parliament paying 
 ^.20,000 for them, a sum said not to be more than the 
 intrinsic value of the precious metals only : they now form 
 the most curious part of the British Museum. — Oh, 1752.
 
 126 
 
 According, then, to your command, 
 That I should search the western land 
 For curious things of ev'ry kind, 
 And send you all that I should find ; 
 I 've ravag'd air, earth, seas, and caverns. 
 Men, women, children, towns., and taverns ; 
 And greater rarities can show, 
 Than Gresham's children ever knew : 
 Which carrier Dick shall bring you down. 
 Next time his waggon comes to town. 
 
 First, I 've three drops of that same shower, 
 Which Jove in Danae's lap did pour ; 
 From Carthage brought, the sword Til send 
 Which brought Queen Dido to her end. 
 The stone whereby Goliath died. 
 Which cures the head-ache, well apply'd ; 
 The snake-skin, which, you may believe. 
 The devil cast who tempted Eve. 
 
 A fig-leaf apron ; it's the same 
 That Adam wore to hide his shame.
 
 127 
 
 But now wants darning; I 've beside 
 
 The blow by which poor Abel died. 
 
 A whetstone, worn exceeding small, 
 
 Time us'd to whet his scythe withal ; 
 
 The pigeon stufF'd, which Noah sent 
 
 To tell him when the waters went. 
 
 A ring I've got of Samson's hair, 
 
 The same which Dahlah did wear ; 
 
 Saint Dunstan's tongs, which story shows 
 
 Did pinch the devil by the nose. 
 
 The very shaft, as all may see. 
 
 Which Cupid shot at Antony ; 
 
 And, which above the rest I prize, 
 
 A glance of Cleopatra's eyes ; 
 
 Some strains of eloquence which hung, 
 
 In Roman times, on Tully's tongue ; 
 
 Which, long conceal'd and lost had lain, 
 
 Till found them out again. 
 
 Then I 've, most curious to be seen, 
 A Scorpion's bite, to cure the spleen ; 
 A goad, that rightly us'd, will prove 
 A certain remedy to love.
 
 128 
 
 As Moore* cures worms in stomach bred, 
 I've pills cure maggots in the head ; 
 
 With the receipts, too, how to take 'em, 
 
 ******* 
 
 I've got a ray of Phoebus' shine, 
 
 Found in the bottom of a mine ; 
 
 A lawyer's conscience, large and fair, 
 
 Fit for a judge himself to wear. 
 
 I've a choice nostrum, fit to make 
 
 An oath a Cathohc will take ; 
 
 In a thumb-vial you shall see, 
 
 Close cork'd, some drops of honesty, 
 
 Which, after searching kingdoms round, 
 
 At last, were in a cottage found ; 
 
 An antidote, if sach there be, 
 
 Against the charms of flattery. 
 
 I ha'nt collected any care, 
 
 Of that there's plenty ev'ry where ; 
 
 But after wond'rous labours spent, 
 
 I've got one grain of rich content. 
 
 • Moore, of Abchurch-lane, who sold the famous worm- 
 powders.
 
 159 
 
 This my wish, it is my glory, 
 
 To furnish your nicknackatory ; 
 
 I only beg that when you show 'em. 
 
 You'll tell your friends to whom you owe 'em, 
 
 Which may your other patients teach 
 
 To do, as has done your's, C. H. 
 
 f^ 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 I'30' 
 (Written in February 1739-40.> 
 
 Donee grains eram tibi, S^'C. 
 WiNNlNGTON. 
 
 FOR that short time that I alone was blest. 
 Singly admitted to that lovely breast, 
 There was no happier fellow in this town, 
 Not Essex, Bludworth, or the vig'rous Brown. 
 
 Ethelbeda. 
 Whilst me you lovM, beyond each earthly thing, 
 Nor Ethelreda was postpon'd to Bing ; 
 I shone the foremost character in life. 
 Nor envy'd Walmod, or Lord Archi's wife.* 
 For Teddy Bingf a passion now I feel, 
 Who both a Pichen and my heart could steal ; 
 
 -j- Ijord Archibald Hamilton, father of the late Sir Wm. 
 Hamilton, and of the Countess of Warwick and Brooke. 
 He married the daughter of James sixth Eaii of Abercorn, 
 who was was mistress of the Robes and Privy Purse to the 
 Princess of Wales, and Governess to liing George III. in 
 his infancy — she died 1 753. 
 
 ■f Edward Eing, fifth Son to the first Lord Torrington, 
 was bred up in the Army.
 
 \3\ 
 
 To save whose life I 'd stand all Hambden'sfury, 
 Bully the witnesses, and bribe the jury. 
 
 WlNNlNGTON. 
 
 I have as odd a passion for my Kitty* 
 (The motley breed of quality and city). 
 Had I as many lives as twenty cats, 
 
 I'd give them all for one dear game at . 
 
 What if to nature I again return. 
 
 And for thy beauteous form once more should 
 
 burn ! 
 Should I quit Bing, would you take back your 
 
 Winnyj-f- 
 And love again as if the devil was in ye ? 
 Tho' Kitty's full of sentiments refin'd, 
 Thou rough as seas, and fickle as the wind ; 
 The' when I melt in tender Kitty's lap, 
 
 I fear no children, and I dread no ■ ; 
 
 Ethelreda. 
 With thee I'd choose to live, tho' sure to breed. 
 And take my Lord to bed, in case of need. 
 
 * Kitty Walker. f Mr. Wilmington. 
 K 2
 
 THE 
 
 COUNTRY GIRL; 
 AN ODE: 
 
 HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO THE EARL OF BATH.* 
 
 (Written and printed in July ]742.J 
 
 THE country girl that's well inclin'd 
 
 To love, when the young 'squire grows kind. 
 
 Doubts between joy and ruin ; 
 Now will, and now will not comply. 
 To raptures now her pulse beats high, 
 
 And now she dreads undoing. 
 
 • The pen of Sir Charles Hanburj Williams inflicted 
 deeper wounds in three montns on ihis Lord than a series 
 of Craftsmen, aided by Lord Bolingbroke, for several 
 years, could imprint on Sir Robert Walpole: the latter 
 lost his power, but lived to see justice done to his cha- 
 racter — his rival acquired no power, but died very rich ; 
 he is supposed to have had the principal hand in Mist and 
 Fog's Journals, and the Craftsman — W.
 
 \3S 
 
 Bui when the lover with his pra}'^rs, 
 His oaths, his sighs, his vows and tears, 
 
 Holds out the profferM treasure ; 
 She quite forgets her fear and shame, 
 And quits her virtue, and good-name, 
 
 For profit mixt with pleasure. 
 
 So virtuous Pult'ney, who had long 
 By speech, by pamphlet, and by song, 
 
 Held patriotism's steerage. 
 Yields to ambition mixt with gain, 
 A treasury gets for Harry Vane,* 
 
 And for himself a peerage. 
 
 Tho' with joint lives and debts before, 
 Harry's estate was covered o'er, 
 
 * Harry Vane, afterwards Earl of Darlington, appointed 
 Vice-treasurer of Ireland on the change of the Ministry, 
 1741.— W.
 
 134 
 
 This Irish place repairs it ; 
 Unless thatstory should be true, 
 That he receives but half his due, 
 
 And the new Countess * shares it. 
 
 'Tis said, besides, that t'other Harryf 
 Pays half the fees of secretary 
 
 To Bath's ennobled doxy; 
 If so — good use of pow'r she makes, 
 The treasury of each kingdom takes, 
 
 And holds them both by proxy. 
 
 Whilst her dear Lord obeys his summons, 
 And leaves the noisy House of Commons, 
 
 Amongst the Lords to nod ; 
 Where if he's better than of old, 
 His hands perhaps a stick may hold, 
 
 But never more a rod. 
 
 • Elizabeth Gumley, Countess of Bath, was very parsi- 
 monious. — W. 
 f Henry Furnese, Secretary of the Treasury.— W.
 
 135 
 
 Unheard of, let him shimber there, 
 As innocent as any peer, 
 
 As prompt for any job ; 
 For now he 's popular no more, 
 He 'as lost the power he had before. 
 
 And his best friends the mob. 
 
 Their favVites shouldn't soar so high, 
 They fail him when too near the sky. 
 
 Like Icarus's wings ; 
 And popularity is such. 
 As still is ruin'd by the touch 
 
 Of gracious giving kings. 
 
 Here then, O Bath ! thy empire ends. 
 And Argyle,* with his Tory friends. 
 
 * " And Pelham, v.'ith his Whiggish friends." 
 It was altered in the published copy to the above, that 
 the verses might seem to come from a Tory quarter.
 
 136 
 
 Soon better days restore ; 
 For Enoch's fate and thine are one, 
 Like him translated, thou art gone 
 
 Ne'er to be heard of more. 
 
 ^0^
 
 A NEW ODE 
 
 TO A GREAT NUMBER OF GREAT MEN, 
 
 NEWLY MADE. 
 
 Jam nova progenies. 
 
 SEE, a new progeny descends 
 
 From heav'n, of Britain's truest friends. 
 
 O Muse attend my call ! 
 To one of these direct thy flight, 
 Or, to be sure that we are right, 
 
 Direct it to them all. 
 
 Clio ! these are golden times ; 
 
 1 shall get money for my rhymes ; 
 
 And thou no more go tatter'd; 
 Make haste, then, lead the way, begin, 
 For here are people just come in 
 
 Who never yet were flattered.
 
 138 
 
 But first to Cart' ret* fain you'd sing; 
 Indeed he's nearest to the King, 
 
 Yet careless how you use him: 
 Give him, I beg, no labour'd lays ; 
 He will but promise if you praise, 
 
 And laugh if you abuse him. 
 
 Then (tho"* there "'s a vast space betwixt) 
 The new-made Earl of Bath comes next. 
 
 Stiff in his popular pride: 
 His step, his gait, describe the man ; 
 They paint him better than I can, 
 
 Waddlino; from side to side. 
 
 •t> 
 
 Each hour a different face he wears, 
 Now in a fury, now in tears, 
 
 Now laughing, now in sorrow ; 
 Now he'll command, and now obey, 
 Bellows for liberty to-day. 
 
 And roars for pow'r to morrow. 
 
 * John, Lord Carteret, afterwards Earl Granvillei Se- 
 cretary of State.— W.
 
 1:39 
 
 At noon the Tories had him tight, 
 
 With staunchest Whigs he supp'd at night. 
 
 Each party try'd to 've won him ; 
 But he himself did so divide, 
 Shuffled and cut from side to side. 
 
 That now both parties shun him. 
 
 See yon old, dull, important lord,* 
 Who at the long'd-for money-board 
 
 Sits first, but does not lead : 
 His younger brethrenf all things make ; 
 So that the Treasury's like a snake, 
 
 And the tail moves the head. 
 
 * Spencer Compton, Earl of "Wilmington, Speaker of the 
 House of Commons, then Lord President, and lastly, First 
 Commissioner of the Treasurj'. He was a worthy man, of 
 exceedingly grave formality, but of no parts. — "W. 
 
 •j- Mr. Sandys, Sir JohnIlushout,andJPhilip Gibbon, three 
 of the new Lords of the Treasury, oftV" out-voted Lord 
 AVilmington, and his nephew, Mr. Corbpton of the Trea- 
 sury, and gave away places as they pleased — ^V^-- — -^
 
 140 
 
 Why did you cross God's good intent? 
 He made you for a president; 
 
 Back to that station go : 
 Nor longer act this farce of power, 
 We know you miss'd the thing before, 
 
 And have not got it now. 
 
 See valiant Cobhani,* valorous Stair>t 
 Britain's two thunderbolts of war, 
 
 * Sir Richard Temple, Viscount Cobham — W. 
 
 Lord Cobham, on voting against the Court on the matter 
 of excise, had his regiment taken from him, and was not 
 allowed to sell it, although he had purchased it. — W. 
 
 t John Dalrymple, second Earl of Stair, Field-mar- 
 shal.— W. 
 
 John, second Earl of Stair, served in the Cameronian 
 regiment in the battle of Steinkii-k, 169i;; he was Aide-de- 
 Camp to the Duke of Marlborough at the taking of Venlo 
 and Liege, and the attack of Peer, and got the command of 
 the Cameronians in 1706 ; he was promoted to the com- 
 mand of the Scotch Greys ; he was a Brigadier-general at 
 the battle of Ramillies, and commanded a Brigade at the 
 battle of Oudenarde, in 1708; he was Major-general at the 
 battle of Malplaquet in 1709. The Tory ministers in the 
 last year of Queen Anne ordered him to sell his regiment 
 •at a low price to the Earl of Portmore; but on the acces-
 
 141 
 
 Now strike my ravish'J eye : 
 But, oh! their strength and spirits Hown, 
 They, like their conquering swords, are grown 
 
 Rusty with lying by. 
 
 sion of George I., he was appointed commander in Scotland 
 and had the 6th regiment of Dragoons given him. On the 
 death of LouisXIV. he was appointed Ambassador to France, 
 an appointment which he executed in the most brilliant and 
 spirited manner; no Ambassador ever exceeded, and few have 
 equalled, the splendid and magnificent table, train, and equi- 
 page which distinguished this Embass}'^ ; but in some misun- 
 derstanding with the ministry at home, he was recalled ; his 
 Lordship had the office of Vice- Admiral of Scotland conferred 
 on him, 1729 ; but joining the opposition against AValpole, he 
 wasdeprivednotonlyof it,buthisregiment: onthe dissolution 
 of the Walpole administration, he was appointed a Field- 
 marshal, Governor of Minorca, and Ambassador to the 
 States of Holland, and had the command of the allied 
 army in Flandei's, and was again Colonel of the 6th Dra- 
 goons ; and, serving under the King at the battle of Det- 
 tingen, he was so disgusted at the preference given to the 
 Hanoverians, that he resigned the command : the 2nd Duke 
 of Marlborough followed his lordship's example ; but, France 
 soon after making pi-eparations for the invasion- of Britain, 
 they set a noble example of loyalty by tendering their ser- 
 vices in any station ; this example was followed by persons 
 of all ranks. In 1745, he was again appointed to the Scotch 
 Greys, and General of the Marine Forces.— 0/(. 1747.
 
 142 
 
 Dear Bat,* Pm glad you've got a place, 
 And since things thus have chang'd their face, 
 
 You'll give opposing o'er : 
 'Tis comfortable to be in, 
 And think what a damn'd while you've been. 
 
 Like Peter, at the door. 
 
 See who comes next — I kiss thy hands. 
 But not in flatt'ry, Samuel Sands ; 
 
 For since you are in power. 
 That gives you knowledge, judgment, parts, 
 The courtier's wiles, the statesman's arts, 
 
 Of which you'd none before. 
 
 When great impending dangers shook 
 Its state, old Rome dictators took 
 
 Judiciously from plough : 
 So we (but at a pinch thou knowest), 
 To make the highest of the lowest, 
 
 The Exchequer gave to you. 
 
 * Allen, Lord Bathurst.
 
 1-13 
 
 When in your hands the seals you found, 
 Did it not make your brains go round ? 
 
 Did it not turn your head ? 
 I fancy (but you hate a joke) 
 You felt as Nell* did when she woke 
 
 In Lady Loverule's bed. 
 
 See Harry Vane in pomp appear, 
 And since he's made Vice-Treasurer, 
 
 Grown taller by some inches : 
 See Tweedalef follow Carteret's call ; 
 See Hanoverian Gower,;|: and all 
 
 The black funereal F inches. § 
 
 * In the " Devil to Pay."— W. 
 
 -f- John Hay, Marquis of Tweedale ; he married Lord 
 Carteret's youngest daughter. — "W. 
 
 $ John Leveson, Earl of Gower, Lord Privy SeaL — W. 
 
 § Daniel Finch, Earl of Winchelsea, and his brothers 
 William and Edward. The Eai-1 of Winchelsea was of so 
 dark a complexion, and so slovenly in his dress, that he 
 was called the Chimney Sweeper. — W.
 
 144 
 
 And see with that important face 
 Berenger's* clerk to take his place^ 
 
 Into the Treasury come ; 
 With pride and meanness act thy part, 
 Thou look'st the very thing thou art, 
 
 Thou Bourgeois Gentilhomme. 
 
 Oh, my poor country ! is this all 
 ^You 've gain'd by the long-labour'd fall 
 
 Of Walpole and his tools? 
 He was a knave suppose — what then ? 
 He M parts — but this new set of men 
 
 A'n't only knaves, but fools. 
 
 More changes, better times this isle 
 Demands ; oh ! Chesterfield,t Argyle, 
 
 • Henry Furuese. 
 
 f Philip Stanhope, Earl of Chestei"field.
 
 145 
 
 To bleeding Britain bring 'em : 
 Unite all hearts, appease each storm, 
 'Tis yours such actions to perform, 
 
 My pride shall be to sing 'em.* 
 
 " " And Doddington 's to sing 'em." — So it is in the 
 original MS, 
 
 ^^ 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 AN ODE, 
 
 HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 WILLIAM EARL OF BATH:* 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE COUNTRY GIRL." 
 
 (Written in Nov. 1742.^ 
 
 Neque enim lexjustior ulla, 
 Quam necis artifices arte perire sua. 
 
 Parcius junctas quatiunt Jenestras 
 Ictibus crebris juvenes protervi : 
 Nee tibi somnos adimunt : aniatque 
 Janua limen. 
 
 Quce prius multum facilis morebat 
 
 Carclines, Sfc. S^c. 
 
 HoR. Lib. 1, Od. XXV. 
 
 GREAT Earl of Bath, your reign is o'er; 
 The Tories trust your word no more, 
 
 " I^ord Bath left above twelve hundred thousand pounds 
 in land and money; four hundred thousand pounds in cash, 
 stocks, and mortgages. His own estate was improved to
 
 147 
 
 The Whigs no longer fear ye ; 
 Your gates are seldom now unbarr'd, 
 No crowds of coaches fill your yard, 
 
 And scarce a soul comes near ye. 
 
 Few now aspire at your good graces, 
 Scarce any sue to you for places, 
 
 Or come with their petition. 
 To tell how well they have deserv'd, 
 How long, how steadily they starv'd 
 
 For you in opposition. 
 
 Expect to see that tribe no more, 
 Since all mankind perceive that pow'r 
 
 Is lodg'd in other hands : 
 Sooner to Cart'ret now they'll go. 
 Or e'en (though that's excessive low) 
 
 To Wilmington and Sands. 
 
 fifteen thousand pounds a year ; and the Bradford estate, 
 which he got from ]\Irs. Smith, Lord Bradford's mistress, 
 was as much. The Earl of Darlington is now in possession 
 of this estate, which produces thirty thousand a year. — 0&. 
 1764. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 
 
 With your obedient wife retire, 
 And, sitting silent by the fire, 
 
 A sullen tete-a-tete,* 
 Think over all you've done or said. 
 And curse the hour that you were made 
 
 Unprofitably great. 
 
 With vapours there, and spleen o'ercast. 
 Reflect on all your actions past, 
 
 With sorrow and contrition ; 
 And there enjoy the thoughts that rise 
 From disappointed avarice. 
 
 From frustrated ambition. 
 
 There soon you'll loudly, but in vain. 
 Of your deserting friends complain, 
 
 That visit you no more ; 
 But in this country 'tis a truth. 
 As known as that love follows youth. 
 
 That friendship follows pow'r. 
 
 • Lady Bath, with an infernal temper, had a great deal
 
 149 
 
 Such is the calm of your retreat ! 
 
 You through the dregs of Ufe must sweat 
 
 Beneath this heavy load ; 
 And I'll attend you, as I've done, 
 Only to help reflection on. 
 
 With now and then an ode. 
 
 of wit. Lord Bath saying to her in one of her passions, 
 " Pray,mydear, keep your temper," she replied, "Keep my 
 temper ! I don't like it so well, I Avonder you should." — W.
 
 THE 
 
 STATESMAN. 
 
 Qtiem virum, aut heroa, lyra, vel acri 
 
 Tibia sumis celebrare, Clio ? 
 
 Quern deum? S(c. HoR. Lib. 1, Ode xii. 
 
 WHAT statesman, what hero, what king, 
 Whose name through the island is spread. 
 
 Will you choose, O my Clio, to sing, 
 Of all the great living or dead? 
 
 Go, my Muse, from this place to Japan 
 
 In search of a topic for rhyme : 
 The great Earl of Bath is the man, 
 
 Who deserves to employ your whole time. 
 
 But, howe'er, as the subject is nice. 
 
 And perhaps you're unfurnished with matter; 
 
 May it please you to take my advice. 
 That you may'nt be suspected to flatter.
 
 J51 
 
 When you touch on his Lordship's high birth, 
 Speak Latin as if you were tipsy : 
 
 Say, we are all but the sons of the earth, 
 Eit genus nonfecimus ipsi. 
 
 Proclaim him as rich as a Jew ; 
 
 Yet attempt not to reckon his bounties : 
 You may say, he is married ; that's true, 
 
 Yet speak not a word of his Countess. 
 
 Leave a blank here and there in each page. 
 To enrol the fair deeds of his youth ! 
 
 When you mention the acts of his age. 
 Leave a blank for his honour and truth ! 
 
 Say, he made a great monarch* change hands; 
 
 He spake — and the minister t fell. 
 Say, he made a great statesman of Sands ; 
 
 (Oh ! that he had taught him to spell !) 
 
 George II. ■)• Mr. Walpole.
 
 152 
 
 Then enlarge on his cunning and wit : 
 Say, how he harangu'd at the Fountain;* 
 
 Say, how the old patriots were bit, 
 
 And a mouse was produc'd by a mountain. 
 
 Then say how he mark'd the new year. 
 By increasing our taxes, and stocks : 
 
 Then say how he chang'd to a peer, 
 
 Fit companion for Edgecumbef and Fox. 
 
 • In the Strand, where all the Torys met. 
 
 t Richard, the first Lord Edgecumbe ; Chancellor of the 
 Duchy of Lancaster, on the fall ofWalpole's administra- 
 tion — Ob. 1758.
 
 A NEW ODE. 
 
 Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa 
 Perfiisus liquidis urguet odoribus 
 Grato, Pt/rrha, sub antro ? 
 
 Hon. Od. 5, Lib. 
 
 WHAT (good Lord Bath) prim patriot now, 
 With courtly graces woes thee ? 
 
 And from St. Stephen's Chapel to 
 The House of Lords pursues thee ? 
 
 How gay and debonnair you 're grown ! 
 
 How pleasM with what is past ! 
 Your title has your judgment shown, 
 
 And choice of friends your taste. 
 
 With sparkling wits to entertain 
 Yourself and your good Countess, 
 
 You've hit on sweet-lip'd Harry Vane • 
 And high-bred Harry Furnese.
 
 154 
 
 But to direct th' affairs of state, 
 What geniuses you 've taken? 
 
 Their talents, hke their virtues, great ! 
 Or all the world's mistaken. 
 
 The task was something hard, 'tis true, 
 Which you had on your hands, 
 
 So, to please Prince and people too. 
 You wisely pitched on Sands. 
 
 O Britain ! never any thing 
 
 Could so exactly hit ye : 
 His mien and manners charm'd the King 
 
 His parts amazM the City. 
 
 But, to make all things of a piece. 
 
 And end as you begun ; 
 To find a genius such as his, 
 
 What was there to be done ? 
 
 O where — where were they to be found ? 
 
 Such stars but rare appear! 
 Dart not their rays on every ground, 
 
 Gild ev'ry hemisphere.
 
 165 
 
 But you with astronomic eyes, 
 
 Not Tycho Brahe's more true, 
 From far spy'd some bright orbs arise, 
 
 And brought them to our view. 
 
 Sir John''s* clear head and sense profound, 
 
 Blaz'd out in Parliament, 
 Gibbon,f for eloquence renownM, 
 
 To grace the court you sent. 
 
 To these congenial souls you join'd 
 Some more, as choice and proper, 
 
 Bright Bootle ? darling of mankind ! 
 Good Limerick and sage Hooper.;]; 
 
 Such virtue and such wisdom shone, 
 
 In evVy chosen spirit ! 
 All men at least this truth must own. 
 
 Your nice regard to merit ! 
 
 * Sir John Rushout. 
 
 •|- Father of the celebrated Historian. 
 
 $ Mr. Hooper was a Hampshire gentleman, and uncle 
 to the late Earl of INlalmsbury, to whom he left his estate: 
 he was much consulted on affairs relative to Finance and 
 Revenues of the country. He retired from public ; and 
 lived for many years at Heron-Court, Hampshire.
 
 156 
 
 What prayVs and praise to you belong, 
 
 For this blest reformation ! 
 Thou joy of ev'ry heart and tongue ! 
 
 Thou saviour of the nation ! 
 
 O Walpole, Walpole, blush for shame, 
 With all your tools around you ! 
 
 Does not each glorious patriot name, 
 Quite dazzle and confound you ? 
 
 Had you sought out this patriot race, 
 Triumphant still you 'd been ; 
 
 By only putting them in place, 
 You had yourself kept in.
 
 AN ODE, 
 
 FHOM THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH 
 
 TO AMBITION. 
 
 Peccat ad extremum ridendus. 
 
 AWAY, Ambition, let me rest ; 
 All party rage forsake my breast, 
 
 And opposition cease. 
 Arm me no more for future strife, 
 Pity my poor remains of life. 
 
 And give my age its peace. 
 
 I 'm not the man you knew before, 
 For I am Pult'ney now no more, 
 
 My titles hide my name. 
 (Oh, how I blush to own my case !) 
 My dignity was my disgrace. 
 
 And I was rais'd to shame.
 
 158 
 
 To thee I sacrific'd my youth, 
 
 Gave up my honour, friendship, truth, 
 
 My king and country's weal. 
 For thee I sinn'd against ray reason. 
 The daily lie, the weekly treason, 
 
 Proclaim'd my Winded zeal. 
 
 For thee I ruin'd Orford's pow'r; 
 Oh ! had I well employ'd that hour. 
 
 My reign had known no end: 
 But then (oh, fool !) like Brutus, I 
 Left able, pow'rful Antony, 
 
 T' avenge his fallen friend. 
 
 He drives me to this abject state, 
 And still he urges on my fate, 
 
 And heaps my measure full : 
 All Orford's wrongs are now repaid, 
 I'm fall'n into the pit I made. 
 
 And roar in my own bull.
 
 159 
 
 Leave me, and to great Varus go, 
 On him resistless smiles bestow, 
 
 Inflame his kindled heat : 
 Display thy pow'r, thy temptings show. 
 Thy glorious height, the sunny brow, 
 
 With all that charm and cheat. 
 
 Varus, on whom, while yet a child. 
 You, goddess, favourably smil'd, 
 
 And form'd him for your tool ; 
 Bid him the path of Greatness try. 
 Teach him to conquer or to die, 
 
 To ruin, or to rule. 
 
 Here all my views of greatness cease, 
 I only ask content and peace. 
 
 Which I will never barter 
 For all the gifts that you can show'r; 
 The pride of wealth, the pomp of pow'r. 
 
 Employments and a garter. 
 
 But at that word what thoughts return! 
 Again I feel Ambition burn.
 
 160 
 
 My dreams my hopes obey ; 
 There all my wishes crovvn'd I feel, 
 Enjoy the ribband, treas'ry, seal. 
 
 Which vanish with the day. 
 
 I
 
 THE HEROES:* 
 
 A NEW BALLAD. 
 
 To the Tune of " Sally in our Alley." 
 
 OF all the jobs that e'er had past 
 
 Our house, since times of jobbing 
 
 Sure none was ever hke the last, 
 Ev'n in the days of Robin : 
 
 * In the time of the Rebellion these Lords had proposed 
 to raise regiments of their own dependents, and were al- 
 lowed ; had they paid them too, the service had been noble : 
 beinfT paid by the Government, obscured a little of the 
 merit ; being paid without raising them, would deserve too 
 coarse a term. It is certain, that not six of the regiments 
 ever were raised ; not four of which were employed. The 
 chief persons who were at the head of this scheme, was the 
 Dukes of Bedford and INIontagu; the Duke of Bedford 
 actually raised and served with his regiment.— W. 
 
 VOL.1. M
 
 162 
 
 For he himself had blush'd for shame 
 At this polluted cluster 
 
 Of fifteen nobles* of great fame, 
 All brib'd by one false muster. 
 
 • The Duke of Bedford was Secretarj- of State 1751. 
 The Duke of Newcastle was jealous of him, because of his 
 intimacy with the Earl of Sandwich, who had been hoisted 
 to the head of the Admiralty by the weight of the Duke of 
 Bedford, into whose affections Sandwich had worked himself 
 by means of intrigues, cricket matches and acting plays : 
 he warmly opposed, though ineifectually, the Clandestine 
 Marriage bill : he was a man of inflexible honesty and good- 
 will to his country ; he was a great oeconomist, but with 
 more generosity and goodness than generally unite with 
 that passion ; his pai-ts were certainly not shining, but he 
 spoke readily, and on trade well ; his foible was speaking on 
 every thing, and imagining he understood it. He was 
 governed by his Duchess, though unmeasurably obstinate ; 
 his manner was impetuous, which he was so little sensible 
 of, that, when he was told the Earl of Halifax was to suc- 
 ceed him as Secretary of State, he observed he is too warm 
 and overbearing, the King will never endure him. If 
 the Duke of Bedford could have thought less well of 
 himself, the world would probably have thought better of 
 him._^V.
 
 163 
 
 Two Dukes* on horseback first appear, 
 
 Both tall and of great prowess ; 
 Two little Barons in the rear 
 
 (For they're, you know, the lowest :) 
 But high and low they all agree 
 
 To do whatever man dar'd ; 
 Those ne'er so tall, and those that fall 
 
 A foot below the standard. 
 
 Three regiments one dukef contents. 
 
 With two more places you know ; 
 Since his Bath knights, his grace dehghts 
 
 In Tri-a jiincV in U-no. 
 Now Bolton comes with beat of drums. 
 
 Though fighting be his loathing ; 
 He much dislikes both guns and pikes. 
 
 But relishes the cloat.hing. 
 
 • John, fourth Duke of Bedford. Charles, fourth Duke 
 of Bolton. 
 ■]■ The Duke of Montagu. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 
 
 Next doth advance, defying France, 
 
 A peer in wondVous bustle ; 
 With sword in hand, he stout doth stand,. 
 
 And brags his name is Russell : 
 He'll beat the French from ev'ry trench, 
 
 And blow them off the water; 
 By sea and land he doth command, 
 
 And looks an errant otter. 
 
 But of this clan, there's not a man 
 
 For bravery that can be, 
 (Tho' Anstruther* should make a stir,) 
 
 Compar'd with Marquis Granby :t 
 
 • Colonel Anstruther. 
 
 -)■ The Marqnis of Granby was an honest, open-hearted 
 young man ; of undaunted spirit, but no capacity ; he drank 
 as profusely as a German; he was honest and affable, and 
 of such unbounded good nature and generosity, that it was 
 impossible to say which principle actuated him in the dis- 
 tribution of the prodigious sums that he spent and flung 
 away. — W.
 
 105 
 
 His sword and dress both well express 
 His courage most exceeding : 
 
 And by his hair, you'd almost swear 
 He's valiant Charles of Sweden. 
 
 The next are Harcourt, Hahfax, 
 
 And Falmouth, choice commanders ! 
 For these the nation we must tax, 
 
 But ne'er send them to Flanders, 
 Two corps of men do still remain. 
 
 Earl Cholmondley's* and Earl Berkeley's ; 
 The last, I hold, not quite so bold 
 
 As formerly was Herc'les. 
 
 * George,Earlof Cholmondley,a vain, empty man, shoved 
 lip so high by his father in law. Sir Ilobert Walpole, and 
 fallen into contempt and obscurity by his own extravagance 
 and insufficiency. He was Knight of the Bath, I^ord of the 
 Admiralty, and Master of the Horse, to the Prince of 
 Wales. — W. 
 
 Lord Cholmondlev has been borrowing money to buv 
 damask for his fine room at Richmond. On his going in 
 the crowd, a woman offered him roses, and said, " they are 
 right damask, my Lord." He supposes she" was put up to 
 it.— \Y.
 
 166 
 
 And now, dear Gower, thou man of pow'r, 
 
 And comprehensive noddle : 
 Tho' you've the gout, yet as you're stout, 
 
 Why wa'n't you plac'd in saddle ? 
 Then you might ride to either side. 
 
 Choose which king you 'Id serve under; 
 But, dear dragoon, change not too soon, 
 
 For fear of th' other blunder. 
 
 This faithful band shall ever stand, 
 
 Defend our faith's defender ; 
 Shall keep us free from popery. 
 
 The French and the Pretender. 
 Now God bless all our ministry, 
 
 May they the crown environ. 
 To hold in chain whatever Prince reign, 
 
 And rule with links of iron. 
 
 -^
 
 SIR CHARLES II ANBURY WILLIAMS* 
 
 TO 
 
 EDWARD HUSSEY, ESQ. 
 
 I 
 
 STOP, stop, ray steed ! Hail, Cambria, liail, 
 With craggy clifts and darksome vale. 
 
 May no rude steps defile 'em 
 Your poet with a vengeance sent 
 From London post, is hither bent, 
 
 To find a safe asylum. 
 
 * If Sir Charles had many superiors in poetry, he had 
 none in the wit of liis poetry ; in conversation he was less 
 natural, and overbearing; hated with the greatest good na- 
 ture, and the most disinterested generosity, for fools dreaded 
 his satire, few forgave his vanity. He had thrown up his 
 place in some disgust : the loss of jNIr. Winiiington, and a 
 quarrel with the Irish, occasioned by an Ode he wrote on 
 the marriage of the Duchess of ^Manchester and Mr. Hussey, 
 had driven him to shelter his discontents in a foreign em- 
 bassy, where he displayed great talents for negotiation, and 
 pleased as much by his letters as he had formerly by his 
 poetry. — W.
 
 168 
 
 Bar, bar the doors, exclude e'en fear 
 Who prest upon my horse's rear. 
 
 And made the fleet still fleeter ; 
 There shall my hurry'd soul repose, 
 And, undisturb'd by Irish prose, 
 
 Renew my lyric metre. 
 
 Thus Flaccus at Philippi field, 
 Behind him left his little shield, 
 
 And sculk'd in Sabine cavern : 
 Had I not wrote that cursed ode. 
 My coward heart I ne'er had show'd, 
 
 The jest of ev'ry tavern. 
 
 Ye guardians of Mercurial men, 
 I boast from you my sprightly pen, 
 
 I rhyme by your direction : 
 Why did you partial gifts impart ? 
 You gave a head, but gave no heart, 
 
 No heart, for head's protection. 
 
 Hence 'tis my wit outruns my strength, 
 And scans eeich inch of Hussey's length,
 
 169 
 
 His length of sword forgetting; 
 Hence angry boys my rhyme provoke, 
 I ne'er (too serious proves the joke) 
 
 Can think on't without sweating. 
 
 What the Lieutenant* once deny'd 
 My inauspicious wit supply'd, 
 
 And forc'd me into action ; 
 To me as to this scribe indite, 
 Hibernians sons — I cannot write 
 
 To give them satisfaction. 
 
 Fool, could I sing for other's sport, 
 The taking of the duchess' fort, 
 
 And which the way to win her: 
 I, undisturb'd, my town enjoy'd, 
 Then (Nero like) with fire destroy'd, 
 
 In springing mines within her. 
 
 • Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
 
 170 
 
 Oh ! had I sung sweet roundelay, 
 Great George's birth, or new-year's day, 
 
 As innocent as Colley,* 
 Your other Pope (oh ! hear, ye Nine) 
 He'd gladly all his odes resign. 
 
 And screen himself in folly. 
 
 Ah ! since ray fear has forc'd me hither, 
 I feel no more that sweet blue weather, 
 
 The Muses most delight in : 
 Dark, and more dark, each cloud impends. 
 And ev'ry message from my friends, 
 
 Conveys sad hints of fighting. 
 
 To harmless themes I '11 tune my reed ; 
 Listen, ye lambkins, whilst ye feed, 
 
 Ye shepherds, nymphs and fountains ; 
 Ye bees, with soporiferous hums, 
 Ye pendent goats, if Hussey comes, 
 
 Convey me to your mountains. 
 
 * Colley Gibber, Poet Lauieat.
 
 171 
 
 There may I sing secure, nor fear 
 Shall pull the songster by the ear, 
 
 T' advise me whilst Tm writing : 
 Or, if my satire will burst forth, 
 I'll lampoon parsons in my wrath, 
 
 Their cloth forbids them fighting. 
 
 Whene'er I think, can Williams brook 
 To sculk beneath this lonely nook. 
 
 And tamely bear what few will ? 
 H — r — t like Priam's son appears, 
 Cries, as he shakes his bloody ears, 
 
 Beware of Irish Duel. 
 
 I flutter like Macbeth ; arise 
 
 Strange scenes, and swim before my eyes, 
 
 Swords, pistols, bloody — shocking! 
 Whole crowds of Irish cross my view, 
 I feel th' involuntary dew, 
 
 Run trickhng down my stocking.
 
 172 
 
 Sure sign how all's within, I trow ; 
 Cornwall* once forc'd such streams to flow, 
 
 So dreadful he to meet is ; 
 Should gentle Cornbury, Leicester, Bath, 
 Or drowsy Stanhope wake in wrath, 
 
 'Twould cause a diabetes. 
 
 Oh, Patrick, courage-giving saint, 
 Reverse my prayer thou late didst grant, 
 
 Or I'm for ever undone ; 
 Rust all their pistols, break their swords, 
 And if they'll fight it out in words, 
 
 I'll come again to London. 
 
 * Velters Cornwall, Esq. of Mocas-Court, Herefordshire, 
 and member for that County.
 
 an fSpigram* 
 
 SIR Thomas, of Wentworth,* inflexibly good, 
 
 Had long Ministerial power withstood ; 
 
 At length through ambition an Earl he was 
 made. 
 
 So first lost his friends, and then lost his head ; 
 
 So Pultney consider like his thy condition. 
 
 How great and how glorious thy long Opposi- 
 tion ; 
 
 Thou art now made an Earl, have a care of thy 
 head. 
 
 Our Pyms and our Hambdens are not all yet 
 dead. 
 
 • Thomas Wentworth, first Earl of Strafford. The 
 prosecution of Lord Strafford, or rather the manner in 
 which it was carried on, is less justifiable. He was doubt- 
 less a great delinquent, and well-deserved the severest 
 purdshment ; but nothing short of a cleai-lj-proved case of 
 self-defence, can justify or even excuse a departure from 
 the sacred rules of criminal justice, — Vide Mr. Fox's His- 
 tory, page 10.
 
 A DIALOGUE 
 
 BETWEEN THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH 
 
 AKD HIS 
 
 COUNTESS. 
 
 TO the Earl said the Countess, what makes yoa 
 
 so dull? 
 E. Because for your Ladyship I 've played the 
 
 fool. 
 C. Forme? do you say, Sir; your Lordship 
 
 I mean — 
 E. Ay, curse that damn'd title, 'tis that gives 
 
 me spleen. 
 C. You have no sense of honour, no notions of 
 
 glory— 
 E. Yours are, Polly Walpole* should not rank 
 
 before ye ; 
 
 • lyady Mary Walpole, natural daughter of Sir Robert, 
 whom George II. allowed the rank of an Earl's daughter.
 
 175 
 
 For, more honour\l, we had been happier 
 
 still, 
 Had you been plain Madam, and I been plain 
 
 Will. 
 
 Lord Bath and Lord Sandys have had their pockets 
 picked at Cuper's Gardens. I fancy it was no bad scene, 
 the avarice and jealousy of their peeresses on their return. 
 —W. 
 
 Grass grows just before my Lord Bath's door where 
 nobody will visit. — W.
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH; 
 
 IMITATED FROM CATULLUS. 
 
 SAY, Earl of Bath, can you your friends deceive. 
 And them, tho' true, without reluctance leave? 
 Tell me, perfidious man, thou Lordling say. 
 Can you your friends forsake, and then betray? 
 Have not the pangs of guilt your bosom seized? 
 Think not with impious acts the Gods are 
 
 pleased. 
 But these are thoughts which never plagued thy 
 
 breast. 
 Who basely left us, and when much distrest. 
 What can we do against a race unjust. 
 Where find a man who 's faithful to his trust ? 
 Our friendship you by false pretensions gain'd. 
 As if no danger in your breast remained ;
 
 177 
 
 But now a traitor to the social tie, 
 Your actions give your former vows the lie ; 
 Nor words nor deeds retracted longer bind, 
 Your words retracted, and your deeds are wind ; 
 You may forget and hve a wretch abhorr'd, 
 But know the Gods remember and record ; 
 Faith well remembers, reverend Deity, 
 And will exact due penitence from thee. 
 
 flVrilien on the Earl of Bath's door in 
 Piccadilly.) 
 
 Here dead to fame, Uves patriot Will, 
 
 His grave a lordly seat ; 
 His title proves his Epitaph, 
 
 His robes his winding-sheet. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 HON. PHILIP YORKE:* 
 
 IMITATED FROM HORACE. 
 
 Ode xvi. Book ii. 
 
 FOR quiet, Yorke, the sailor cries, 
 When gathering storms obscure the skies, 
 
 The stars no more appearing; 
 The Candidate for quiet prays, 
 Sick of bumpers and huzzas, 
 
 Of blest Electioneering. 
 
 Who thinks that from the Speaker's chair, 
 The Serjeant's mace can keep off care, 
 
 * He married the grand daughter and heiress of the Duke 
 of Kent. He succeeded as second Earl of Hardwick, and 
 was father of the Countess De Grey, and the Dowager Lady 
 Grantham.
 
 17f) 
 
 Is vvonderously mistaken ; 
 Alas! he is not half so blest 
 As those who 've Liberty and rest, 
 
 And dine on beans and bacon. 
 
 Why should we then to London run, 
 And quit our cheerful country sun, 
 
 For business, dirt, and smoke ; 
 Can we by changing place and air. 
 Ourselves get rid of, or our care, 
 
 In trutli 'tis all a joke. 
 
 Care climbs proud ships of mightiest force, 
 And mounts behind the General's horse. 
 
 Outstrips Hussars and Pandours ; 
 Far swifter than the flying hind, 
 Swifter than clouds before the wind. 
 
 Or Cope* before Highlanders. 
 
 " Sir John Cope being reinforced by two regiments of 
 Dragoons, amounting to near three thousand men, marched 
 to give battle to the Pretender's army : but was attacked 
 by two thousand four hundred Highlanders with such im- 
 petuosity, that, in less than ten minutes, they were totally 
 routed. The Dragoons fled in the utmost confusion : all 
 the infantry were either kUled or taken.— -Swo/W^. 
 
 N 2
 
 ISO 
 
 A man when once he 's safely chose, 
 Should laugh at all his threat'ning foes, 
 
 Nor think of future evil ; 
 Each good has its attendant ill, 
 A seat is no bad thing, but still 
 
 Elections are the Devil. 
 
 Its gifts with hand impartial Heaven 
 Divides — To Orford* it was given, 
 
 To die in full-blown glory j 
 To Batht indeed a longer hfe. 
 But though he lives, 'tis with his wife, 
 
 And shunn'd by Whig and Tory. 
 
 The Gods to you, with bounteous hand. 
 Have granted seats and parks, and land, 
 
 Brocades and silks you wear ; 
 With Claret and ragouts you treat, 
 Six neighing steeds, with nimble feet, 
 
 Whirl on your gilded car. 
 
 * Robert Walpole, the second Earl, who died in the flower' 
 of his age, April 1751. He was auditor of the Exchequer,, 
 and was succeeded by the Earl of Lincoln, 
 
 t Wm. Pultney, Earl of Bath.
 
 181 
 
 To rae they've given a small retreat, 
 Good Port and Mutton, best of meat. 
 
 With broad-cloth on my shoulders ; 
 A soul that scorns a dirty job, 
 Loves a good rhyme, and hates a mob, 
 
 I mean that 's not freeholders.
 
 THE CAPUCHIN: 
 
 A NEW BALLAD, 
 
 To the Tune of " Ye Commons and Peers." 
 (Written in September 1742 J 
 
 Ecce iterum Crispinus, et est mihi scepe vocandus. 
 
 WHO at Paris has been, 
 
 Has a Mendicant seen, 
 Who for charity follows to dun ye ; 
 
 Offer him what you will, 
 
 He refuses it still, 
 For he has sworn that he'll never touch money. 
 
 But near him one stands, 
 
 With two open hands, 
 (A Creature that follows for hire) 
 
 Any gifts that you make, 
 
 He'll readily take, 
 And at night he accounts with the friar.
 
 I 
 
 183 
 
 So the great Earl of Bath, 
 
 Has sworn, in his wrath. 
 That he'll never accept of a place j 
 
 Neither Chancellor he, 
 
 Nor Treasurer will be. 
 And refuses the seal and the mace. 
 
 But near him a crowd, 
 
 Stand bawling aloud, 
 For all that two courts* can afford ; 
 
 And 'tis very well known, 
 
 That for them what is done. 
 Is the same as if done for my Lord. 
 
 But I'm told, noble peer. 
 
 Lest these things should take air, 
 And with dirt all mankind should upbraid ye ; 
 
 That you try a new way, 
 
 'Tis as safe I dare say. 
 And make them account with my Lady. 
 
 " St. James's and Leicester-House.
 
 184 
 
 But indeed this won''t do, 
 And the world will see throu<yh. 
 
 And your character still will bespatter ; 
 Mind th' advice that I send, 
 For I'm so much your friend. 
 
 That I'm sure, you can't say, that I flatter. 
 
 There's my good Lord of Gower,* 
 
 Is n't a quarter come o'er. 
 And I fancy you'll find he wants zeal ; 
 
 If he don't come plum in. 
 
 And vote thro' thick and thin, 
 Turn him out, and be made Privy Seal. 
 
 Don't slight this advice. 
 Nor affect to be nice, 
 
 • Lord Gower was a comely man of form, had never had 
 any sense, and was now superannuated ; he had been edu- 
 cated a stiff Jacobite, and elected their chief on his first 
 coming into the King's service, and had twice taken the 
 privy seal before he could be induced to change his princi- 
 ples ; by the intrigues of the Earl of Sandwich, Colonel 
 John Waldgrave stole Lord Gower's daughter, and the 
 marriage was performed at Lord Sandwich's at the Admi- 
 ralty.— W.
 
 185 
 
 Laugh at Votes^ that obstruct your great ends; 
 
 For an oath's but a joke, 
 
 To one that has broke 
 Through all honour and ties with his friends. 
 
 Fly to Cart'ret and Pelham,t 
 
 You'U still go on, tell'em, 
 All honest men's hope to defeat ; 
 
 To Crown your disgrace, 
 
 They '11 give you this place, 
 And your character will be complete. 
 
 • Every intelligent reader will have in his thoughts eight 
 or ten of the ablest men and greatest geniuses of this king- 
 dom, such as Harry Vane, Harry Fumes, I^ord Limerick, 
 Sir John Rusliout, Mr. Hobart, Samuel Sandys, Mr. Boo- 
 tie, IVlr. Gibbon, &c &c— W. 
 
 f It is extraordinary that Mr. Pelham, who had not so 
 much levity iji lus character, should consent to be an ac- 
 complice in his brother's treacheries, especially as, upon 
 every interval of rivalship, the Duke grew jealous of him : 
 the truth was, Mr. Pelham, who had as much envy in his 
 temper, and still more fondness for power, was willing to 
 take advantage of his brother's fickleness, and reaped all 
 the emolument without incuning the odium of it.— W.
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO 
 
 LORD LIMERICK 
 
 (Written in Nov. 1742 J 
 
 Raro antecedentem scelestum, 
 Deseruit pede Pana claudo. 
 
 THOUGH for this time you're not my theme, 
 Lord Bath ! my zeal 's for you the same, 
 
 As constant and as fervent ; 
 And don't imagine I am gone, 
 If for a moment I step down, 
 
 To Teague your Irish Servant. 
 
 My humble lyre when late I strung. 
 And to the new-made Statesman sung, 
 
 I didn't, I assure ye, 
 Intend that it should be your lot. 
 To be the only one forgot. 
 
 Great Foreman of the Jury.
 
 187 
 
 I should have done it t'other day, 
 (For I have much plain truth to say) 
 
 Which you'll call foul aspersion ; 
 But had no place to put you in, 
 So you must be as you have been, 
 
 O'er paid with a reversion. 
 
 What made our Ministers or King, 
 Give such a creature, such a thing, 
 
 Say Clio, I desire ye ; 
 Into the cause enquiry make. 
 If 'tis but for his lordship's sake, 
 
 For ray Lord loves inquiry. 
 
 Three different merits in this realm. 
 Allege their claims to hold the helm, 
 
 And rule this stubisorn state ; 
 Illustrious birth has some pretence. 
 Strong always is the claim of sense, 
 
 And property has weight. 
 
 Not one of these in you appear. 
 
 My lord, ev'n your great name's not clear,
 
 188 
 
 'Tis bad as well as good, 
 It takes all ranks in and all sizes, 
 From footmen, and from chairmen rises 
 
 Up to Scotch Royal Blood. 
 
 As to your parts all parties own, 
 (In this uniting) that you've none ; 
 
 And when your lordship's prating. 
 Contempt in ev'ry face appears, 
 Ev'n th' equilibrious Speaker sneers. 
 
 At such sad low debating. 
 
 In England (for a truth I say 't), 
 You've neither int'rest nor estate, 
 
 Go then most fit and wilhng ; 
 To serve a court lay any Tax, 
 No matter if it breaks our backs. 
 
 It won't cost you one shilhng. 
 
 Thus, as no merit you can plead, 
 You've chose in a new path to tread,
 
 189 
 
 And urg'd a bold pretence ; 
 After the true old Irish way, 
 As juryman you ask'd for pay, 
 
 And as an Evidence. 
 
 My Lord of Bath allow'd your plea. 
 But should have chose some other way, 
 
 And kept you still attendant ; 
 For Harry Vane himself would own, 
 'Twas wickedly and weakly done, 
 
 To make you independent. 
 
 One stanza more and I have done, 
 Heav'n long preserve Lord Palmerston,* 
 
 And since for life he's in ; 
 You must hke other sinners stay. 
 Till death, or his, or your's shall pay. 
 
 The wages of your sin. 
 
 * The first Viscount Palmerston : he was appointed 
 chief remembrancer of the Irish Exchequer for life.
 
 AN ODE, 
 
 HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO THE 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 WILLIAM EARL OF BATH 
 
 April 1743. 
 
 WHEN last I sung, I promis'd then, 
 If Clio smil'd, to write again, 
 
 Reflection to renew ; 
 And by this Ode my lord you'll find, 
 Tho' you break yours with all mankind, 
 
 I keep my word with you. 
 
 And sure the most judicious muse, 
 A prop'rer theme could never chuse, 
 
 To answer her intention : 
 Each day so variously you act, 
 She 's never at a loss for fact, 
 
 Or tortur'd for invention.
 
 191 
 
 But do aspiring thoughts return, 
 And does again ambition burn, 
 
 Would the dead embers blaze ? 
 And dar'st thou hope that courts or pow'r, 
 Thy reputation can restore, 
 
 Or thy sunk credit raise ? 
 
 'Tis av'rice prompts you, but in vain. 
 You strive that Treasury to regain. 
 
 Which you let slip last year; 
 To that, while yet his country's friend, 
 Th' unspotted Commoner might pretend, 
 
 But not the tainted peer. 
 
 For who'll confirm the high-flown choice. 
 Do you expect the people's voice. 
 
 Will the court do the thing ? 
 No ; by your own superior parts, 
 Tho' you have lost the people's hearts, 
 
 You have not gain'd the King. 
 
 On what foundation would'st thou stand ? 
 Who will reach out a helping hand ?
 
 192 
 
 We ne'er can trust you more j 
 And Walpole's party won't forget, 
 The urger of their leader's fate, 
 
 The spoiler of his pow'r. 
 
 Hopes of success you see are vain, 
 
 And would'st thou launch thy bark again. 
 
 In the decline of life ? 
 From whence can all this madness flow ? 
 These are the counsels of some foe. 
 
 Or of t\iQ,i friend, your wife. 
 
 'Tis she presents you with the views 
 Her av'rice paints, say, knowing muse, 
 
 Thou 'rt not afraid to tell it ; 
 'Tis she that thinks (mistaken dame) 
 You Ve still some remnant left of fame, 
 
 And prudently would sell it. 
 
 But should compliance still prevail, 
 And you set up yourself to sale.
 
 193 
 
 Her sage advice to follow ; 
 From evVy side you'll meet disgrace, 
 The King won't buy you* with a place^ 
 
 The people with a hollo ! 
 
 • Mr. Pultney was the great rival of Sir Robert AVal- 
 pole, whose power he so long opposed, and at last over- 
 turned, and was undone with it. His virtue failed the 
 moment his inveteracy was gratified. The patriot's private 
 vices, which the party would not see while he led them, 
 were exposed and magnified by them the instant he de- 
 serted them ; he had not judgment and resolution enough 
 to engross the power which he had forfeited his credit and 
 character to obtain ; liis ambition, treachery, irresolution, 
 timidity, and want of judgment were baffled and taken 
 advantage of by the Duke of Newcastle, who had all those 
 vijces in a stronger proportion. — W. 
 
 VOL. T. &
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH, 
 
 occasioned by a late pamphlet, intituled 
 "faction detected."* 
 
 (Written at Maddington Sept. 1743, and sent 
 from thence and printed in the Daily Post.) 
 
 YOUR sheets I've perusM, 
 Where the Whigs you've abus'd, 
 
 * It was written by Lord Egmont. 
 John Perceval, second Earl of Egmont, had gained his 
 greatest reputation by opposing the INIutiny Bill, and he 
 was not a man to forget, or let any body else forget, where 
 his strength lay. — W. 
 
 His great talent was indefatigable application, which he 
 loved rather than wanted; for his parts were strong and 
 manly— W. 
 
 On the Pamphlet called " Faction Detected.^* 
 Libel bom to endless shame. 
 
 Big with the foulest lies ; 
 Thy Patrons, Authors, thee disclaim, 
 
 Thy enemies despise. 
 All treat thee at the self-same rate, 
 
 The many and the few ; 
 And parties that each other hate, 
 Agree in hating you.
 
 195 
 
 And on Tories have falsely reflected ; 
 But, my Lord, I'm afraid. 
 From all that's there said, 
 
 'Tis you, and not they, are detected. 
 
 Both parties, I hear. 
 
 Most freely declare, 
 That 'tis not approved of by either ; 
 
 If 'tis damn'd, then, by both, 
 
 It must be the growth 
 Of somebody who is of neither. 
 
 Tis easy to name. 
 
 From what quarter it came. 
 And the thing of itself stands confest ; 
 
 'Tis that pitiful crew. 
 
 Of your creatures and you. 
 Whom both parties scorn and detest. 
 
 But stay, let me see, 
 Which tool could it be, 
 o 2
 
 196 
 
 That such a huge book could indite ; 
 For of all those you made, 
 If there's one that can read, 
 
 I'm sure there's not one that can write. 
 
 'Tis above poor Sir John * 
 
 Nor by Sands could be done. 
 And Bootless too stupid and dark ; 
 
 Ord hardly reads well, 
 
 JefFf never could spell, 
 And you know Harry Vane, sets his mark. 
 
 Then since all your tools. 
 
 Are such ignorant fools. 
 It must be your lordship's own doing ; 
 
 You have taken your plie, 
 
 But you'll soon own with me, 
 That you've settled yourself in your ruin. 
 
 • Sir John Rushout — W. 
 
 t John Jeffreys, secretary to the Treasury.— W.
 
 197 
 
 As diff'rent winds blew, 
 
 Like the weather-cock you 
 Long waver'd both parties betwixt ; 
 
 But did not you know, 
 
 That weather-cocks grow 
 Quite useless the moment they're fix'd ? 
 
 ^^
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH, 
 
 {Written at Maddington, Sept. 1743.) 
 
 OH, sigh no more at your disgrace, 
 Nor grieve that Pelham has the place, 
 
 False, shuffling Earl of Bath ; 
 Alter your batt'ries, change your view. 
 More safe, less open ways pursue. 
 
 Nor tread in Musgrave's path. 
 
 He once, my lord, his party sold, 
 Unluckily for too much gold, 
 
 You know the story well ; 
 And therefore be not such a fool. 
 To cram your money-bag too full. 
 
 Lest it should break and tell.* 
 
 • Once, we confess, beneath the Patriot's cloak. 
 From the crack'd bag the dropping Guinea spoke ; 
 And jingling down the backstairs told the crew, 
 " Old Cato is as great a rogue as you." — W.
 
 199 
 
 YouVe liv'd so long that you despise, 
 Levees and flatt'rers, pimps and spies, 
 
 And ministerial state ; 
 You know that money is the thing. 
 That does substantial comforts bring. 
 
 And makes one truly great. 
 
 Leave then the garter, staff, and key, 
 To empty lords who ev'ry day 
 
 Compose St. James's mob ; 
 But ev'ry future year of life, 
 Do you, to please yourself and wife, 
 
 Obtain some gainful job. 
 
 The lottery this year prov'd good. 
 
 Where you subscrib'd for what you would. 
 
 Thro' your own treas'rers bounties ; 
 Indeed 'twas pretty piddhng there, 
 'Twas twenty thousand guineas clear, 
 
 To you, and your damn'd Countess. 
 
 You manag'd the affair so well. 
 That Israel's sons own you excel,
 
 2<V0 
 
 Theii money-getting crew-, 
 And cheated Gideon* was surprised, 
 How one that was not circumcis''d, 
 
 Could be so great a Jew. 
 
 * Mr. Sampson Gideon, father of the present Lord 
 Eardley, who bequeathed his vast estates, in case of his 
 race failing, to the Duke of Devonshire.
 
 AN ODE 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH. 
 
 SXi<^*»»l»>*i 
 
 Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo. — Hor. 
 
 SHALL these mad efforts of indignant foes, 
 My name to blacken, break my mind's repose ; 
 What's the base murmuring of the people's 
 
 breath. 
 To the high sounds of Lord and Earl of Bath: 
 At their first patriot they roar and rave. 
 And call me Hypocrite, and call me knave ; 
 For I who Pultney was, am Pultney still, 
 In form tho' varying, fixt in principle ; 
 The principle from which I ne'er did swerve. 
 Has ever urged me my dear self to serve ; 
 With titles honour'd, and large wealth increas'd, 
 My pride I pamper and my avarice feast :
 
 202 
 
 Let patriots for themselves unskilFd to crave, 
 For sake of virtue, sake of justice starve ; 
 High joy'd T smile when they frown at my ways. 
 And while they hiss me, clap to my own 
 praise. 
 
 ^^
 
 A NEWER ODE THAN THE LAST. 
 
 Ad Hominem 
 Iterum iterum movebo. 
 
 GREAT Earl of Bath, 
 
 Be not in wrath, 
 At what the people say ; 
 
 Bob was abused, 
 
 And roughly used — 
 Each dog must have his day. 
 
 'Tis true you are 
 
 A man of war. 
 Of courage stout and try'd ; 
 
 It was, we know, 
 
 But word and blow. 
 When honour seem'd your guide.
 
 204 
 
 Lord Fanny* once 
 
 Did play the dunce, 
 And challeng'd you to fight ; 
 
 And he so stood, 
 
 To lose his blood, 
 But had a dreadful fright. 
 
 Poor member Ned, 
 
 Said something bad, 
 And wrote it down to York ; 
 
 Your sword you drew, 
 
 And at him flew. 
 And fought like any Turk. 
 
 » Lord Hervey, who fought a duel with Mr. Pultney. 
 He being turned out of place turned patriot, and made 
 three fine orations against the repeal of the Gin Act. Sir 
 Charles Williams made a couple of ballads on the occasion, 
 with much wit, to ridicule both Sandys and Lord Hervey. 
 — W.
 
 205 
 
 No man so dread, 
 
 That wore a head, 
 Durst either speak or write 
 
 Things, to dispraise 
 
 Your virtuous ways, 
 But draw he must, and fight. 
 
 Tho' once so brave, 
 
 rU call you knave, 
 And show you 're courage-bound ; 
 
 For if you dare 
 
 With me to war. 
 You must the nation round. 
 
 ■m
 
 The following Character of Sir Robert Wal- 
 POLE* was drawn from the Life hy Sir Charles 
 Han'bciry Williams, Knight of the Bath, in 
 an Epistle to the Right Honourable Henry 
 Fox. 
 
 BUT Orford's self I've seen, whilst I have read, 
 Laugh the heart's laugh, and nod th' approving 
 
 head. 
 Pardon, great Shade ! if, duteous, on thy hearse 
 I hang my grateful tributary verse : 
 If I, who followed through thy various day, 
 Thy glorious zenith, and thy bright decay, 
 Now strew thy tomb with flowers, and o'er thy 
 
 urn, 
 With England, Liberty, and Envy, mourn. 
 His soul was great and dar'd not but do well. 
 His noble pride still urg'd him to excel ; 
 
 • Sir Robert Walpole was killed by Jurin's jNIedicine for 
 the stone. — W.
 
 207 
 
 Above the search of gold, if in his heart 
 Ambition govern'd, Av'rice had no part. 
 A genius to explore untrodden ways, 
 Where prudence sees no track nor ever strays ; 
 Which books and schools, in vain attempt to 
 
 teach. 
 And which laborious art can never reach. 
 Falsehood and flattery, and the tricks of Court, 
 He left to Statesmen of a meaner sort ; 
 Their cloaks and smiles were offer''d him in vain. 
 His acts were justice, which he darM maintain. 
 His words were truth, and held them in disdain. 
 Open to friends, and e'en to foes sincere. 
 Alike remote from jealousy and fear; 
 Tho' Envy's howl, tho' Faction's hiss, he heard, 
 Tho' senates frown'd, tho' death itself appear'd; 
 Calmly he view'd them, conscious that his ends 
 Were right, and Truth and Innocence his friends. 
 Thus was he form'd to govern and to please ; 
 Familiar greatness, dignity with ease, 
 Compos'd his frame ; admir'd in every state. 
 In private amiable, in public great.
 
 208 
 
 Gentle in power, but daring in disgrace, 
 His love was liberty, his wish was peace. 
 Such was the man that smil'd upon my lays : 
 And what can heighten thought, or genius raise. 
 Like praise from him whom all mankind must 
 
 praise ; 
 Whose knowledge, courage, temper, all surprised. 
 Whom many lovM, few hated, none despis'd.* 
 
 • Sir Robert Walpole was bold, open, steady ; never de- 
 jected; he never gave up his party to serve himself; he was 
 content to have one great, honest view, and would overlook 
 or trample on the intermediate degrees ; he raised himself 
 to the head of administration without interest, without 
 fortune, and without alliances. His mastery was, under- 
 standing the interest of his own country : with the greatest 
 confidence of himself he had no pride ; he loved magnifi- 
 cence, and was generous to a fault ; his friendship was 
 chiefly confined to persons much below him. — W. 
 
 ^^^ ^TtT^
 
 BRITANNIA^S GHOST 
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH. 
 
 WHILE Pultney, seeking lost repose, 
 
 His downy pillow prest ; 
 Fresh horrors in his soul arose, 
 
 And further banish'd rest. 
 
 For, lo, Britannia by his side, 
 
 All ghastly pale and wan, 
 Thus in deep doleful accent cry'd ; 
 
 " Oh, base perfidious man ! 
 
 " How can'st thou hope that balmy sleep 
 " Should close thy guilty eyes ; 
 
 " When all Britannia's sons must weep 
 " Her fall'n thy sacrifice. 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 
 
 " Long had she trusted to thine aid, 
 
 " Against her bosom foe ; 
 " Depending on the vows you made, 
 
 " To ward the fatal blow. 
 
 " Hence she each traitor had supprest, 
 
 " Or boldly had defy'd; 
 " Till leaning on her Guardian's breast, 
 
 " His treacherous arm she spy'd. 
 
 " ' And art thou Pultney V said she, ' fie f 
 " ' Thou of the traitor crew ! 
 
 " ' Nay, brave Caesar hke I'll die, 
 '' ' Since Brutus lives in you.' 
 
 " But, oh, why must Britannia bleed, 
 *' To sate Ambition's flame ; 
 
 " Ah, titles thence you '11 gain indeed, 
 " But gain with endless shame. 
 
 " How can you e'er atonement make, 
 " For all your broken vows ? — 
 Why, cancel your late grand mistake, 
 " Her interest to espouse. 
 
 iC
 
 211 
 
 " So shall her genius yet revive, 
 " You barter guilt for fame ; 
 
 " She shall revere you when alive, 
 " When dead, adore your name." 
 
 " Ah ! too," he said, '^ too false I 've prov'd, 
 
 " Too fickle vile a thing, 
 " Ever to be sincerely loved, 
 
 " By Country, Court, or King." 
 
 Hereat the spectre disappear'd, 
 But Conscience in its stead ; 
 
 Dire cursing legions quickly reared, 
 Round his devoted head. 
 
 Then to his wife he, raving, cried, 
 " Thou daughter of perdition ; 
 
 " Britannia 's ruin'd by thy pride ; 
 " Pm damn'd by thy ambition." 
 
 p 2
 
 AN ODE 
 
 FROM 
 
 FAME 
 
 TO THE 
 
 EARL OF BATH. 
 
 Audivere, Lyce, dii mea vota, dii 
 Audivere, Lyce; fis anuSy et tamen 
 Visformosa videri, 
 Liidisqiie et bibis, hnpudens. 
 
 HE is grown old ; he is abhorrM, 
 Whom falsely once all men ador'd ; 
 I thank you, gods, for so you ought 
 To stamp the man who merits nought. 
 And yet to bribe the goddess Fame, 
 No art by him is left untry'd ; 
 So great is Bubo's want of shame. 
 His drunkenness and pride. 
 
 But know 'tis P 1 that goddess seeks, 
 
 His shining virtues claim her choice ; 
 For him alone her trumpet speaks, 
 For him alone is heard her voice.
 
 213 
 
 For streams more crystal than her skies, 
 The goddess flies from dirty Bath;* 
 Oh, Bubo, thou art fiU'd with lies, 
 O, Virtue, he has left thy path ! 
 Nor title can nor strings of blue, 
 Nor wealth immense thy fame restore ; 
 Nor heav'nly peace of mind renew — 
 What Time has buried is no more ! 
 
 Where is the man who nextto Wyndhamf shone 
 
 The Nation's column and the Senate's pride? 
 
 Where is the Patriot the Camillus gone ? 
 
 Of true applause where now the levelling tide ? 
 But Wyndham dy'd while credit bloom'd, 
 Cursed, O Bubo, is thy fate ; 
 An aged raven thou art doom'd, 
 The world's contempt — not worth its hate. 
 
 • Pultney, Earl of Bath. 
 
 f Sir AVilliam Wyndham, father of the first Earl of 
 Egremont.
 
 THE 
 
 PATRIOT PARROT 
 
 A ZEALOUS Patriot had a parrot taught, 
 To mimic sound, to prattle his own thought; 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," was PolFs eternal 
 
 tone, 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," who e'er approach a 
 
 throne. 
 How well the master judged, how well the bird, 
 Critics decide — the master is preferr'd ; 
 Servile he cringes, fawns, adores the throne, 
 But honest Poll, still keeps her honest tone. 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," is her eternal song, 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," who Ve slaves the court 
 
 among !
 
 215 
 
 *' Curse on this noisy bird," the patriot cries; 
 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," still honest Poll replies. 
 
 " Tom, take the bird, wring off his neck, for 
 hoarse, 
 
 " Hoarse is as raven"'s croak his voice,and worse." 
 
 " Rogues all, rogues all," still honest Poll re- 
 plied — 
 
 Who more a patriot lived than Poll, or dy'd ? 
 
 The Moral. 
 From Poll's heroic soul let Statesmen see. 
 
 With their first lesson should their last ag-ree ; 
 
 The bird disdain'd his servile master's wrath — 
 
 Was it the bird of Sandys,* or of Bath ?t 
 
 • Samuel, first Lord Sandys — Thus Sandys thinks he 
 has spoken an Epigram when he crinkles up his nose and 
 lays a smart accent on Ways and Meant. — W. 
 
 t Wm. Pultney, Earl of Bath.
 
 AN EPITAPH 
 
 ON THE POLITICAL MEMORY OF 
 
 WILLIAM PULTNEY, EARL OF BATH; 
 
 Who died to Fame, Julj/ loth, 1742. 
 
 PULTNEY, no friend to truth, in fraud sincere, 
 In act unfaithful, and from honour clear ; 
 Who broke his promise, served his private ends, 
 Who gain'd a title, and who lost all friends ; 
 Dishonour'd by himself, by none approv'd, 
 Curs'd, scorn'd, and hated, e'en by those he 
 lov'd.
 
 A BALLAD: 
 
 IN IMITATION OF " WILLIAM AND MARGARET," 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 WM. EARL OF BATH. 
 
 'TWAS in the hour when guiltless care 
 
 Is lull'd in soft repose; 
 When nothing wakes, save fell despair, 
 
 Beset with cureless woes. 
 Inviting sleep, lo, William lay. 
 
 The down he vainly prest ; 
 Honour, alas ! had soar'd away. 
 
 And shame had poisoned rest. 
 Britannia, with that stern regard 
 
 That conscious worth puts on, 
 Before his frantic eye appeared, 
 
 And pierc'd him with a groan. 
 Her cheek had lost its rosy bloom. 
 
 And languid roll'd her eye ; 
 This once could brighten midnight gloom, 
 
 That shame the Tyrian dye.
 
 218 
 
 The laurel wreath, by glory's hand 
 
 Twin'd round her awful brow, 
 As what her grief and rage disdained. 
 
 She rent in fury now. 
 Away she hurl'd her boasted shield, 
 
 Away her useless spear ; 
 What joys to slaves, can trophies yield. 
 
 What pride the pomp of war. 
 " Behold the dire effects," she cried, 
 
 " Of WilHara's perjured truth ! 
 " Behold the Orphan, who relied 
 
 " On a false guardian's oath. 
 " How couldst thou with a lover's zeal, 
 
 " My widow'd cause espouse, 
 " Yet quit that cause, you serv'd so well, 
 
 " In scorn of all thy vows ? 
 " How couldst thou swear, wealth,titles,power, 
 
 " Thy candour would disclaim ; 
 " Yet barter, in an evil hour, 
 
 " That candour for a name ?
 
 219 
 
 " How couldst thou win my easy heart, 
 
 " A patriot to beheve ? 
 " How could I know, but by the smart, 
 
 " A patriot would deceive ? 
 " Bethink thee of thy broken trust, 
 
 " Thy vows to me unpaid ; 
 " Thy honour humbled in the dust, 
 
 " Thy country's weal betrayed. 
 " For this may all my vengeance fall 
 
 " On thy devoted head ; 
 " Living be thou the scorn of all, 
 
 " The curse of all when dead."" 
 This said, while thunder round her broke. 
 
 She vanished into air ; 
 And William's horror while she spoke, 
 
 Was followed by despair. 
 
 -^^
 
 ON THE ARRIVAL 
 
 OF 
 
 GENERAL OGLETHORPE.* 
 
 ARRIVE in safety all ye Heroes brave, 
 That from America survive the grave ; 
 Let Fame cry fraud, ill-conduct, or neglect, 
 No Inquisition Britons now expect. 
 Since Orford loaded with an age of crimes, 
 Escapes insulting, these degenerate times : 
 Since Bath, that great Paladium, till of late. 
 Defends each vice in Ministers of State : 
 Well may these Ministers remit the scores 
 Of Generals, Admirals, and Commodores. 
 
 * It was uncertain whether he was a Whig or a Jacobite, 
 whether very brave or a coward ; for he had fought several 
 duels, and had run away in the Rebellion. He was a 
 troublesome, tiresome, speaker, but now and then tempered 
 with good sense. — AV.
 
 HOR. LIB. II. ODE XVI.— Ofmm Divos, S^c. 
 
 IMITATED : 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE EARL OF BATH. 
 
 IN each ambitious measure crost, 
 
 Each friend that should support you lost, 
 
 By Faction's tempest rudely tost : 
 
 At length you ask the gods for ease. 
 But what avails your pious care, 
 Your heart pour'd out in endless prayer, 
 Ease is not venal tho' you are. 
 
 As wealth may tempt, or titles please. 
 
 For not the Treasurer, Staff, and all 
 That Orford grasp'd before his fall. 
 Or his successor Pelham shall. 
 
 Can ease the self-devoted mind. 
 Care flies into the rooms of State, 
 Nor can the slaves that on him wait 
 Drive the curst phantom from the Gate : 
 
 Care stays, when none else dare, behind.
 
 222 
 
 How happier at his frugal board 
 Lives the plebian tho' no lord, 
 His father's wealth his only hoard ; 
 
 Who acts within his proper sphere ; 
 Whilst honest Morpheus o'er his brows. 
 His choicest wildest poppies strows, 
 And sleep, the gods best gift, bestows, 
 
 Unbroke by avarice or fear. 
 
 Why flies our arrow to those heights ? 
 Our feeble thread spun by the Fates, 
 Each hour the fatal Scissars waits, 
 
 Nor will one moment's pause afford 1 
 We bustle to be raised on high. 
 New lands explore, new suns descry, 
 Alas ! 'twere well could self, too, fly. 
 
 And lose the squire in the lord. 
 
 Beyond the present hour forbear, 
 The following is not worth your care ; 
 In life's contracted span how rare,
 
 223 
 
 To see one man completely blest ! 
 See, Orford wisely laying down, 
 Nor giving foes one parting frown, 
 Whilst peace his latest hours shall crown ; 
 
 And good old Wilmington at rest. 
 
 With twice ten thousand pounds a year, 
 You yet may live, and taste good cheer, 
 The' you '11 ne'er be Lord Treasurer, 
 
 So you repent you of that sin ; 
 Whilst I, as others will, no doubt. 
 When * * * * returns with many a shout, 
 Shall laugh to see your friends trot out. 
 
 As shamefully as they came in.
 
 WYNDHAM AND PULTNEY ; 
 
 OR THE 
 
 VISION AT BATH. 
 
 BATH, vex'd with courts, the country sought, 
 
 To ease his troubled mind ; 
 But httle dreamt the angry Peer, 
 
 More trouble there to find. 
 
 He strove to lay aside all cares, 
 
 Ev'n those for wealth or fame ; 
 
 Nor brought a spark of malice down, 
 Except against the game. 
 
 The live-long day in sport he spent, 
 
 His toils survived the light ; 
 And yet, tho', wearied, home he came, 
 
 He slept not sound at night.
 
 225 
 
 Oh, Thought, thou busy, restless thing. 
 
 In Peasant and in Peer ; 
 How durst thou plague so great a man. 
 
 Who holds his peace so dear? 
 
 A man so great, three nations once, 
 
 Did on his steps attend ; 
 Ev'n Statesmen trembled at his frown. 
 
 And Kings to him did bend. 
 
 Yet him, at times, thou durst reproach, 
 Durst tax him with his deeds ; 
 
 Thus boldly should a man presume, 
 For his offence he bleeds. 
 
 To stir his soul, yet 'scape his ire. 
 An act he would not boast. 
 
 Knowing no mortal venture might. 
 Thought introduced a ghost. 
 
 The night was as Corruption dark, 
 Like Justice, mankind slept ; 
 
 When to his lordship's working brain, 
 This dreadful Vision crept. 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 
 
 His mind revolving vast events, 
 His conscience Fancy caught ; 
 
 And sudden to his aching sight, 
 
 Great Wyndham's * shadow brought. 
 
 With awful grandeur stalk'd the spright. 
 
 With terror shook the Peer; 
 When thus, the dread harangue begun, 
 He heard or seem'd to hear. 
 
 " Oh, Pultney ! listen, Wyndham speaks, 
 
 " To him and truth attend ; 
 " Who, living, still your cause espous'd, 
 And now in death your friend. 
 
 f( 
 
 " How bright thy thought, thy words how free, 
 " How upright seem'd thy soul : 
 
 '' As if no hope thy heart could seize, 
 " Nor any fear control. 
 
 • Sir WiUiam Wvndham.
 
 227 
 
 " Why didst thou seem so wise and good, 
 
 " And yet but act a part ; 
 " Why, when applauded for that skill, 
 
 " Did it not touch thy heart ? 
 
 " How, once believihg Virtue fair, 
 
 " Be to her cause untrue ; 
 *' Or fancy, after acting thus, 
 
 " A title was thy due? 
 
 " Why justice seek, why fraud expose, 
 " If this you did not mean ? 
 
 " Or having both to light reveaPd, 
 " Why, after, turn a screen ? 
 
 " How could you zealous seem for right, 
 
 " While meditating wrong ? 
 " Or how believe, an ill-got pow'r 
 
 " Should e'er continue long? 
 
 " By friends admir'd, by nations lov'd, 
 " Like Cato's, Pultney's name ; 
 
 " How could'st thou shght so great a good, 
 " How fool away such fame ? 
 Q 2
 
 228 
 
 " How sprightly Stanhope* could you quit, 
 
 " Deceive the great Argyle ? 
 " How cheat the generous-hearted Pitt; 
 
 " Sir WilUamf how beguile ? 
 
 " How slight thy faith, how break thy word, 
 
 " Thy country how undo ? 
 " Who'd from a Briton this expect ? 
 
 " Of Britons all from you. 
 
 " Ah ! fooUsh man, to barter fame, 
 
 " For titles' tinsel grace ! 
 " And poorly sell thy own desert, 
 
 " To dignify thy race. 
 
 " Yet know that this thou can'st not do, 
 
 " 'Tis Virtue gives a name ; 
 " For titles if they 're basely got, 
 
 " Are but entails of shame." 
 
 The cock had crowM, the morning dawn'd, 
 
 And clowns began to wake ; 
 Before the chief could from his view, 
 
 This dreadful Vision shake. 
 
 Earl of Chesterfield. f Sir Wm. Stanhope.
 
 220 
 
 Then up he started from his bed, 
 And hurried back to town ; 
 
 Where his return made as much noise 
 As did his going down. 
 
 But tho' his body changed its place, 
 Yet, as arch Horace writes. 
 
 His mind was just, still where it was, 
 He could not sleep at nights. 
 
 He bus'ness hates, forgets the post. 
 From council stays away ; 
 
 And what made people stare at most, 
 He miss'd the King's birth-day. 
 
 Since then he sullen is, or sad, 
 Of great affairs makes light ; 
 
 Talks much of being what he was, 
 And setting all things right. 
 
 Now God preserve our glorious King, 
 And send his Bishops grace ; 
 
 Keeping all Lords for evermore, 
 From Bath's unhappy case
 
 TO 
 
 MR. GARNIER 
 
 AND 
 
 MR. PEARCE OF BATH. 
 
 A GRATEFUL ODE, 
 
 In return for the extraordinary kindness and hu- 
 manity they shewed to me and niy eldest daughter, 
 now Lady Essex,* 1753. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHAT glorious verse from Love has sprung ? 
 How well has Indignation sung? 
 
 • Mother of George Capel Coningsbv, the 5th and pre- 
 sent Earl of Essex, and of Elizabeth Lady INlonson, widow 
 of John, the third Lord. Her Ladyship died 19th July, 
 1759, in childbed.— Xiaat Ii(^,.
 
 231 
 
 And can the gentle Muse, 
 Whilst in her once-belov''d abode 
 I stray, and suppliant kneel, an ode 
 
 To Gratitude refuse ? 
 
 It. 
 
 Gamier, my friend, accept this verse, 
 And thou receive, well-naturM Pearce, 
 
 All I can give of Fame : 
 Let others other subjects sing, 
 Some murd'rous chief, some tyrant king, 
 
 Humanity 's my theme. 
 
 III. 
 
 Whilst arts hke yours, employed by you. 
 Make verse on such a theme your due, 
 
 To whom indulgent heav'n 
 Its favVite povv'r of doing good. 
 By you so rightly understood, 
 
 Judiciously has giv'n. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Behold, obedient to your povv'r. 
 Consuming fevers rage no more,
 
 232 
 
 Nor chilling agues freeze ; 
 The cripple dances, freed from pain, 
 The deaf in raptures hear again, 
 
 The blind, transported, sees. 
 
 V. 
 
 Health, at your call, extends her wing, 
 Each healing plant, each friendly spring, 
 
 Its various powV discloses ; 
 O'er death's approaches you prevail. 
 See Chloe's cheek, of late so pale, 
 
 Blooms with returnins; roses. 
 
 VI. 
 
 These gifts, my friends, which shine in you, 
 Are rare, yet to some chosen few 
 
 Heav'n has the same assign'd ; 
 Health waits on Mead's prescription still, 
 And Hawkins' hand, and Ranby's skill, 
 
 Are blessings to mankind. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But hearts like yours are rare indeed, 
 "Which for another's wounds can bleed.
 
 233 
 
 Another's grief can feel ; 
 The lover's fear, the parent's groan, 
 Your natures catch, and make your own. 
 
 And share the pains you heal. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But why to them, Hygeia, why 
 Dost thou thy cordial drop deny 
 
 Who but for others live ; 
 Oh, goddess, hear my prayV, and grant 
 That these that health may never want, 
 
 Which they to others give.
 
 HOR. LIB. I. ODE XXX.— Venus ! Regina, 
 Cnida Paphosq. ^c. 
 
 PARAPHRASED BY 
 
 SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS, 
 
 AS 
 
 GENERAL CHURCHILL'S* 
 ADDRESS TO VENUS.f 
 
 (Written in December 1739: Mr. Churchill 
 being just then made Deputy Ranger of St. James'' s 
 Park, under Lokd Weymouth.j 
 
 O VENUS, joy of men, and gods. 
 Leave for awhile thy blest abodes, 
 
 • General Charles Churchill, natural son of a Brother of 
 the great Duke of iMarlborough. This Ode was the first 
 production that made Sir C. H. Williams known as a Poet. 
 He had written before many bad verses, particularly an 
 Epistle to i\Ir. G. Lyttleton, beginning with these two 
 wretched lines 
 
 " Dear George, since now you're at that time of life, 
 '• In which your friends would have you take a wife." 
 
 [H. Wal^ole.] 
 f Vide — The imitation of " O Venus, Regina."
 
 235 
 
 And come and visit my land : - 
 Propitious, on thy vot'ry smile, 
 Quit Paphos, and the Cyprian isle, 
 
 And reign in my Duck island. 
 
 Thee, goddess, thee, my pray'rs invoke ; 
 To thee alone my altars smoke; 
 
 O treat me not with rigor : 
 Thy wanton son bring with thee too. 
 My dying embers he'll renew, 
 
 And give me back fresh vigor. 
 
 Bring too the Graces to my arms, 
 Girls that are prodigal of charms. 
 
 Of every favour lavish : 
 Melting and yielding let them be ; 
 Consider I am sixty-three, 
 
 And that's too old to ravish. 
 
 Let florid youth attend thy train ; 
 Much wanted by thy crazy swain ;
 
 236 
 
 And dearest Venus prithee, 
 To crown my gifts, and ease my pain, 
 Since Ward has labour'd long in vain 
 
 Let Mercury come with thee.
 
 A LAMENTABLE CASE. 
 
 SUBMITTED TO THE 
 
 BATH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 YE fam'd physicians of this place, 
 Hear Strephon's and poor Chloe's case, 
 
 Nor think that I am joking ; 
 When she would, he can not comply, 
 When he vvou'd drink, she's not a-dry ; 
 
 And is not this provoking ? 
 
 At night, when Strephon comes to rest, 
 Chloe receives him on her breast. 
 
 With fondly-folding arms : 
 Down, down he hangs his drooping head. 
 Falls fast asleep, and lies as dead. 
 
 Neglecting all her charms. 
 
 Reviving when the morn returns, 
 
 With rising flames young Strephon burns.
 
 238 
 
 And then, wou'd fain be doing ; 
 But Chloe, now asleep or sick, 
 Has no great relish for the trick, 
 
 And sadly balks his wooing. 
 
 O cruel and disastrous case. 
 When in the critical embrace 
 
 That only one is burning ! 
 Dear doctors, set this matter right. 
 Give Strephon spirits over night, 
 
 Or Chloe in the morning. 
 
 ^9^
 
 A BALLAD: 
 
 (Written in June 1743 J 
 
 SOME think Lord Carteret* bears the sway, 
 And rules the kingdom, and the king ; 
 
 The Lord of Bath does, others say. 
 And others swear 'tis no such thing. 
 
 That 'tis Lord Wilmington, no doubt. 
 Directs this nation, Caryf boasts ; 
 
 But in their guesses, they're all out. 
 We're governed by the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 " Lord Carteret was created Earl of Granville, his person 
 was handsome, open, and engaging; his eloquence rapid and 
 pompous : he was an extensive Scholar, Master of Classic 
 criticism, and modern jjolitics : it is difficult to say, whether 
 he was oftener intoxicated with wine or ambition : in fits 
 of the former he shewed contempt for every body ; in rants 
 of the latter for truth — W. 
 
 His genius was magnificent and lofty ; his heart without 
 gall or friendship, for he never tried revenge on his enemies, 
 or wished to ser\'e liis friends. — W. 
 
 f A particular friend and adviser of the Earl of Wil- 
 minglon's.
 
 240 
 
 A moment's patience, and I '11 prove 
 The argument I'm now pursuing; 
 
 Who is there, but the Lord above, 
 
 That knoweth what this nation's doing. 
 
 Whether the war goes on with Spain, 
 
 In which so many Britons fell ; 
 And what our fleets do on the main. 
 
 The Lord, and only he, can tell. 
 
 The Lord, and he alone doth know. 
 How taxes will be rais'd this year ; 
 
 The Lord knows how much 'tis we owe, 
 And the Lord knows, when we shall clear. 
 
 The Lord knows how our army '11 fare, 
 We're govem'd by the Lord knows who; 
 
 Our king* is gone, the Lord knows where, 
 And the Lord knows what we shall do. 
 
 " The King was then abroad at Hanover.
 
 ON THE 
 
 PRINCESS* GOING TO ST. JAMES'S 
 
 IN FEBRUARY 1741-2. 
 
 WHEN to each other's fond embrace. 
 The son and father came ; 
 
 Both parties hk'd tlie thing so muchy 
 That they too did the same^ 
 
 * The reconciliation between the Royalties is finished, 
 and £.50,000 a year more added to the Heir Apparent'a 
 revenue; he will have money now to tune up Glover^ 
 Thomson, and Dodsley. — "NV. 
 
 Frederic, Prince of Wales, his chief passion was women ; 
 but like the rest of his race, beauty was not a necessary in- 
 gredient. Miss • • » * whom he had debauched without 
 loving, and who had been debauched without loving him, 
 so well as either Lord Harrington or Lord Hervey, who 
 both pretended to her first favoiu"s, had no other charms 
 than being a maid of honour, who was willing to cease to 
 be so upon the first opportunity. Of his favourites, Lady 
 Archibald Hamilton, had been neither young nor handsome 
 within his memory ; and Lady ^Middlesex was short, plain, 
 and very yellow ; vain, full of Greek and Latin, music, and 
 painting. — W. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 242 
 
 Strange miracle ! sure future times 
 Will scarce believe these stories ; 
 
 Lions may couple now with lambs, 
 
 When Whigs embrace with Tories. 
 
 But disappointments very soon 
 
 Will lessen this affection ; 
 And tho' now party names are dead, 
 
 They'll have a resurrection. 
 
 And when the day of judgment comes, 
 
 To loosen these embraces ; 
 Then some shall go and gnash their teeth, 
 
 And some to happy places.
 
 HORACE, ODE XI. LIB. II. 
 
 IJIITATED IN 
 
 ANODE 
 
 FROM 
 
 PAUL FOLEY 
 
 TO 
 
 NICHOLAS FAZAKERLEY.* 
 
 Studiis florentem ignobilis oil. — Virg. 
 
 NEVER, dear Faz, torment thy brain^ 
 With idle fears of France or Spain, 
 
 * Fazakerley was a tiresome Jacobite lawyer. He dis- 
 tinguished himself by opposing the Marriage clause in the 
 Regency bill ; he supported the Bill for Subsidiary Treaties 
 in the time of peace ; he likewise distinguished himself in 
 opposing the INJarriage bill, 17.53; he headed the Tories at 
 a meeting at the Horns Tavern, respecting the St. Mitchel 
 Election ; Avherein he declared, that that election was not 
 to be decided by its merits, but was a contest for power be- 
 tween the Duke of Newcastle and ]Mr. Fox,— W. 
 
 R 2
 
 244 
 
 Or any thing that's foreign ; 
 What can Bavaria do to us? 
 What Prussia's monarch, or the Russ? 
 
 Or ev'n Prince Charles of Loraiue ? 
 
 Let us be cheerful whilst we can, 
 And lengthen out the short-hv'd span, 
 
 Enjoying ev'ry hour; 
 The moon itself we see decay. 
 Beauty 's the worse for ev'ry day, 
 
 So is the sweetest flow'r. 
 
 How oft, dear Faz, have we been told, 
 That Paul and Faz are both grown old. 
 
 By young and wanton lasses ! 
 Then since our time is now so short, 
 Let us enjoy the only sport 
 
 Of tossing off our glasses. 
 
 From White's we'll move th' expensive scene, 
 And steal away to Richmond Green :
 
 24-5 
 
 There, free from noise and riot, 
 Polly each morn shall fill our tea, 
 Spread bread and butter, and then we 
 
 Each night get drunk in quiet. 
 
 Unless perchance Earl Leicester comes, 
 As noisy as a dozen drums. 
 
 And makes a horrid pother : 
 Else might we quiet sit and quaff, 
 And gently chat, and gayly laugh 
 
 At this, and that, and t'other. 
 
 Bradshaw shall settle what's to pay, 
 Adjust accounts by Algebra : 
 
 I always order dinner : 
 Bradshaw, tho' solemn, yet is sly, 
 And leers at Poll with roguish eye. 
 
 To make the girl a sinner. 
 
 Powell (d'ye hear), let's have the ham. 
 Some chickens, and a chine of lamb ;
 
 24C 
 
 And what else — let's see — look ye, 
 Bradshaw must have his damn'd bouilli; 
 Bath fattens on his fricassee ; 
 
 I '11 have my water-suchy. 
 
 When dinner comes, we'll drink about, 
 (No matter who is in or out) 
 
 Till wine or sleep o'ertake us ; 
 Each man may nod, or nap, or wink ; 
 And when it is our turn to drink. 
 
 Our neighbour then shall wake us. 
 
 Thus let us live in soft retreat. 
 Nor envy nor despise the great ; 
 
 Submit to pay our taxes ; 
 With peace or war we'll be content, 
 Till eas'd by a good parhament. 
 
 Till Stanhope's hand relaxes. 
 
 Never enquire about the Rhine, 
 
 But fill your glass and drink your wine,
 
 247 
 
 Hope things may mend in Flanders. 
 The Dutch we know are good alhes ; 
 So are they all, with subsidies ; 
 
 And we have choice commanders. 
 
 Then here's the King ; God bless his grace 
 Tho' neither you nor I have place, 
 
 He has many a sage adviser ; 
 And yet no treason sure 's in this, 
 Let who will take the pray 'r amiss, 
 
 God send them all much wiser ! * 
 
 * This has been attributed to the Earl of Bath, but in the 
 uncertainty of its belonging to Sir Charles, it is inserted 
 here.
 
 ORPHEUS AND HECATE, 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE PATRONESS OF THE ITALIAN OPERA 
 
 LADY BIXGLEY. 
 
 Tantuni Odiis, Irccque dahut- 
 
 -ilia Sorores 
 
 Node vocat genitas Met. lib. 4-. 
 
 WHEN Orpheus, as old poets tell, 
 Carry'd his music down to hell, 
 
 He fiU'd the shades \\dth joys ; 
 Alecto, and Tisiphone, 
 Megsera, with Brown Hecate, 
 
 Transported heard his voice.
 
 249 
 
 And whilst he led the song divine, 
 The spectres all in chorus join ; 
 
 Such was grim Pluto's will ! 
 Tantalus quaff 'd a flowing bowl, 
 Sisyphus ceas'd his stone to roll, 
 
 Ixion's wheel stood still. 
 
 His person, melody, and lyre 
 Set the infernal queen on fire, 
 
 Who courted him to stay : 
 But Pluto, to prevent all strife. 
 Ordered the Poet, with his wife, 
 
 Back to the realms of day. 
 
 Joyful they speed for upper air ; 
 When, to divide the happy pair, 
 
 Hecat' contriv'd a spell : 
 Now, now, she cry'd, in rapt'rous tone, 
 His harmony is all ray own 1 
 
 I '11 make a heav'n in hell !
 
 250 
 
 For me, and my Tartarean crew, 
 Endless the wanton song renew ! 
 
 O ever touch the lyre ! 
 But still the bard, in heav'nly lays. 
 Would sing his king's and maker's praise. 
 
 And kindle martial fire. 
 
 Enrag'd the triple-headed * dame 
 Howl'd ; in a trice the furies came, 
 
 Threat'ning a dreadful fate : 
 'Till Phoebus, with the tuneful Nine, 
 And lovely Graces all combine 
 
 To shield him from their hate. 
 
 Thus sav'd from death, he shares the love 
 Of men below, and blest above, 
 
 • Tuque trkept Hecate Met. Lib. 7. 
 
 The ancients represented Hecate with three heads, that 
 t)f a horse, a bitch, and a savage ; the second is supposed to 
 be the head used on this occasion.
 
 251 
 
 The virtuous, brave, and wise : 
 Whilst every chaste, and pious mind. 
 To vice averse, to good inchnM; 
 
 Must Hecat's name despise. 
 
 ^^
 
 LADY DOROTHY BOYLE* 
 
 ENAMOURED WITH 
 
 LORD EUSTON. 
 
 BEHOLD, one moment, Dorothea's fate ! 
 
 In fortune opulent by lineage great ; 
 
 In manners gentle, rich in evVy grace, 
 
 And youth sat blooming in her heav'nly face. 
 
 By Nature docile, and by Art improv'd, 
 
 Nay, more, she lov'd, with tenderness she lovM, 
 
 The faithless Polydore, yet all these charms 
 
 Could not one night confine him to her arms ; 
 
 But left in all the hell of love and grief, 
 
 From death, alone, she hop'd to find relief ; 
 
 • Dorothy Boyle, eldest daughter of the Earl of Burling- 
 ton, who married the Earl of Euston, son to Charles II., 
 Duke of Grafton. She died without issue, 1742; and he 
 died, mr.
 
 ►53 
 
 The milder tyrant, death, corrects her fate, 
 Receives her at his ever-open gate ; 
 There dries her tears, and bids her sigh no more. 
 And shuts out hfe, and love and Polydore.
 
 SONG IN COMUS. 
 
 WOULD you taste the noon-tide air. 
 To yon fragrant bower repair ; 
 Where, woven with the Poplar bougli, 
 The Manthng Vine shall shelter you. 
 
 Down each side a Fountain flows, 
 Tinkling, murmuring, as it goes ; 
 Lightly o'er the mossy ground. 
 Sultry Phoebus scorching round. 
 
 Around, the languid herds and sheep, 
 Stretch'd on sunny hillocks, sleep ; 
 Whilst on the Hyacinth and Rose, 
 The fair does all aione repose. 
 
 All alone, yet in her arms. 
 Your breast may beat to Love's alarms ^ 
 Where blest and blessing they shall own. 
 The joys of love are joys alone.
 
 SONG. 
 
 AT St. Osyth's, near the mill, 
 There dwells a lovely lass ; 
 
 O, had I her good will, 
 
 How sweetly life would pass. 
 
 No bold intruding care, 
 
 Our bliss should e'er annoy ; 
 
 Her looks can gild despair, 
 And heighten ev'ry joy. 
 
 Like nature's rural scene. 
 Her artless beauties charm ; 
 
 Like them with joy serene. 
 Our wishing hearts they warm. 
 
 Her wit with sweetness crown'd, 
 Steals ev'ry sense away ; 
 
 The list'ning swains around, 
 Forget the shortening day.
 
 256 
 
 Health, Freedom, Wealth, and Ease, 
 Without her tasteless are ; 
 
 She gives them pow'r to please. 
 And makes them worth our care. 
 
 Is there, ye powers, a bliss, 
 
 Reserved for my share ? 
 Indulgent hear my wish. 
 
 And grant it all in her. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Inj-''' 
 
 9X^ 
 
 T. C. Hansabd, Printer, 
 
 I'eterborough-court, Fleet-street, London. 
 
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