F. Alas young man! your days can ne'er be long,
In flow'r of age you perish for a song!
Plums and Directors, Shylock and his Wife,
Will club their Testers, now, to take your life!

P. What? arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen,
Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men;
Dash the proud Gamester in his gilded Car;
Bare the mean Heart that lurks beneath a Star;
Can there be wanting, to defend Her cause,
Lights of the Church, or Guardians of the Laws?
Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain
Flatt'rers and Bigots ev'n in Louis' reign1?
Could Laureate Dryden Pimp and Friar engage2,
Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage?
And I not strip the gilding off a knave,

Unplac'd, unpension'd3, no man's heir, or slave?
I will, or perish in the gen'rous cause:

Hear this, and tremble! you, who 'scape the Laws.
Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave
Shall walk the World, in credit, to his grave.
TO VIRTUE ONLY and HER FRIENDS A FRIEND,
The World beside may murmur, or commend.
Know, all the distant din that world can keep,
Rolls o'er my Grotto, and but soothes my sleep.
There, my retreat the best Companions grace,
Chiefs out of war, and Statesmen out of place.
There ST JOHN mingles with my friendly bowl
The Feast of Reason and the Flow of Soul:
And HE, whose lightning pierc'd th' Iberian Lines 4,
Now forms my Quincunx, and now ranks my Vines,
Or tames the Genius of the stubborn plain,
Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.
Envy must own, I live among the Great 5,
No Pimp of Pleasure, and no Spy of State.
With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats,
Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats;

madness, there's method in it.' There is real fire in Lee, besides a great deal of smoke.]

1 Boileau acted with much caution when he first published his Lutrin here alluded to, and endeavoured to cover and conceal his subject by a preface laying the scene at Bourges, not at Paris, for which it was intended. When in 1683 he threw off the mask, no offence was taken by the Canons whom he had ridiculed. From Warton's note. [Moreover, the ascendancy of bigotry and Mad, de Maintenon had not begun when Boileau wrote his famous satire; when they fully prevailed he retired from Court.]

2 [In his Spanish Friar. But he soon atoned for that piece by Absalom and Achitophel.]

3 [Pope declined the pension offered him by Lord Halifax early in George I.'s reign.]

4 And HE, whose lightning, etc.] Charles Mordaunt Earl of Peterborough, who in the year

120

125

130

135

1705 took Barcelona, and in the winter following with only 280 horse and 900 foot enterprized and accomplished the Conquest of Valentia. P. [See Macaulay's captivating account of Peterborough in his Essay on the War of Succession in Spain.]

5 Envy must own, &c.] Horace makes the point of honour to consist simply in his living familiarly with the Great,

Cum magnis vixisse invita fatebitur usque
Invidia.

Our poet, more nobly, in his living with them on
the footing of an honest man. He prided himself
in this superiority, as appears from the following
words, in a letter to Dr Swift: "To have pleased
great men, according to Horace, is a praise; but
not to have flattered them, and yet not have
displeased them, is a greater." Let. vII. Jan.
12, 1723.
Warburton.

To help who want, to forward who excel;
This, all who know me, know; who love me, tell;
And who unknown defame ine, let them be
Scribblers or Peers, alike are Mob to me.
This is my plea, on this I rest my cause
What saith my Counsel, learned in the laws?

F. Your Plea is good; but still I say, beware!
Laws are explain'd by Men-so have a care.
It stands on record, that in Richard's times
A man was hang'd for very honest rhymes1.
Consult the Statute: quart. I think, it is,
Edwardi sext. or prim. et quint. Eliz.
See Libels, Satires-here you have it-read.
P. Libels and Satires! lawless things indeed!
But grave Epistles, bringing Vice to light,
Such as a King might read, a Bishop write;
Such as Sir ROBERT 2 would approve

140

145

150

F. Indeed?

155

The Case is alter'd-you may then proceed;
In such a cause the Plaintiff will be hiss'd;
My Lords the Judges laugh, and you're dismiss'd3.

THE SECOND SATIRE

OF THE

SECOND BOOK OF HORACE.

SATIRE II.

To Mr BETHEL1.

[IN Horace's Satire the praise of temperance is laid in the mouth of Ofellus, a simple farmer with whom the poet had been acquainted from his boyhood.]

THAT, and how great, the Virtue and the Art

WHA

To live on little with a cheerful heart,

(A doctrine sage, but truly none of mine,)

Let's talk, my friends, but talk before we dine.
Not when a gilt Buffet's reflected pride
Turns you from sound Philosophy aside;
Not when from plate to plate your eyeballs roll,
And the brain dances to the mantling bowl.

5

[Hugh Bethel, the 'blameless Bethel' of Moral Essays, Ep. v., a Yorkshire gentleman with whom Pope was intimate, and frequently corresponded. He was a close friend of Pope's dearest friends, the Blounts of Mapledurham. He died in 1748.]

1

Hear BETHEL'S Sermon, one not vers'd in schools,
But strong in sense, and wise without the rules.
Go work, hunt, exercise! (he thus began)
Then scorn a homely dinner, if you can.
Your wine lock'd up, your Butler stroll'd abroad,
Or fish deny'd (the river yet unthaw'd),
If then plain bread and milk will do the feat,
The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat.

Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men
Will choose a pheasant still before a hen;
Yet hens of Guinea full as good I hold,
Except you eat the feathers green and gold.
Of carps and mullets why prefer the great,
(Tho' cut in pieces 'ere my Lord can eat)
Yet for small Turbots such esteem profess?
Because God made these large, the other less.
Oldfield1 with more than Harpy throat endued,
Cries "Send me, Gods! a whole Hog barbecued 2!
Oh blast it, South-winds! till a stench exhale
Rank as the ripeness of a rabbit's tail.
By what Criterion do ye eat, d'ye think,
If this is priz'd for sweetness, that for stink?
When the tir'd glutton labours thro' a treat,
He finds no relish in the sweetest meat,

He calls for something bitter, something sour,
And the rich feast concludes extremely poor:
Cheap eggs, and herbs, and olives still we see;
Thus much is left of old Simplicity!

The Robin-red-breast till of late had rest3,
And children sacred held a Martin's nest,

Till Becca-ficos sold so dev'lish dear

To one that was, or would have been a Peer.
Let me extol a Cat, on oysters fed,
I'll have a party at the Bedford-head1;

Or ev'n to crack live Crawfish recommend;

I'd never doubt at Court to make a friend.
'Tis yet in vain, I own, to keep a pother
About one vice, and fall into the other:
Between Excess and Famine lies a mean;
Plain, but not sordid; tho' not splendid, clean.
Avidien, or his Wife (no matter which,
For him you'll call a dog, and her a bitch)
Sell their presented partridges, and fruits,
And humbly live on rabbits and on roots:

1 Oldfield] This eminent Glutton ran thro' in Mr Hayward's Essay on the Art of Dining.] a fortune of fifteen hundred pounds a year in the simple luxury of good eating. Warburton.

Hog barbecued, etc.] A West Indian term of gluttony, a hog roasted whole, stuffed with spice, and basted with Madeira wine. P. [How gross an antithesis to Charles Lainb's favourite delicate sucking-pig!]

3['Cet aimable oiseau se mange à la broche et en salmi.' Almanach des Gourmands, quoted

4 Bedford-head;] A famous Eating-House. P. [In Covent-Garden.]

5 Edward Wortley Montagu, the husband of Lady Mary. Carruthers. [Their son Edward, alluded to in v. 56, was a source of constant annoyance to both his parents; and Lady M. speaks of the impossibility of his behaving as a rational creature.']

One half-pint bottle serves them both to dine,
And is at once their vinegar and wine.

But on some lucky day (as when they found

55

A lost Bank-bill, or heard their Son was drown'd)

At such a feast, old vinegar to spare,

Is what two souls so gen'rous cannot bear:
Oil, tho' it stink, they drop by drop impart,
But souse the cabbage with a bounteous heart.

He knows to live, who keeps the middle state,
And neither leans on this side, nor on that;
Nor stops, for one bad cork, his butler's pay,
Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away;
Nor lets, like Naevius, ev'ry error pass,
The musty wine, foul cloth, or greasy glass.

Now hear what blessings Temperance can bring:
(Thus said our friend, and what he said I sing,)

First Health: The stomach (cramm'd from ev'ry dish,
A tomb of boil'd and roast, and flesh and fish,
Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid jar,
And all the man is one intestine war)
Remembers oft the School-boy's simple fare,
The temp'rate sleeps, and spirits light as air.

How pale, each Worshipful and Rev'rend guest
Rise from a Clergy, or a City feast!
What life in all that ample body, say?
What heav'nly particle inspires the clay?
The Soul subsides, and wickedly inclines

To seem but mortal, ev'n in sound Divines1.

80

How coming to the Poet ev'ry Muse!

That leaves the load of yesterday behind!
How easy ev'ry labour it pursues!

On morning wings how active springs the Mind

Not but we may exceed, some holy time,

85

Or tir'd in search of Truth, or search of Rhyme;
Ill health some just indulgence may engage,
And more the sickness of long life, Old age;
For fainting Age what cordial drop remains,
If our intemp'rate Youth the vessel drains?

Our fathers prais'd rank Ven'son. You suppose
Perhaps, young men ! our fathers had no nose.
Not so: a Buck was then a week's repast,
And 'twas their point, I ween, to make it last;
More pleas'd to keep it till their friends could come,
Than eat the sweetest by themselves at home.

Why had not I in those good times my birth,

Ere coxcomb-pies2 or coxcombs were on earth?
Unworthy he, the voice of Fame to hear,
That sweetest music to an honest ear;
(For 'faith, Lord Fanny!
The world's good word is

1 [Warburton remarks on the orthodox turn given by Pope to the Epicureanism of Horace.]

you are in the wrong,
better than a song)

90

95

100

Who has not learned, fresh sturgeon and ham-pie
Are no rewards for want, and infamy!
When Luxury has lick'd up all thy pelf,
Curs'd by thy neighbours, thy trustees, thyself,
To friends, to fortune, to mankind a shame,
Think how posterity will treat thy name;
And buy a rope, that future times may tell
Thou hast at least bestow'd one penny well.
"Right,” cries his Lordship, "for a rogue in need
"To have a Taste is insolence indeed:

"In me 'tis noble, suits my birth and state,
My wealth unwieldy, and my heap too great."
Then, like the Sun, let Bounty spread her ray,
And shine that superfluity away.

Oh Impudence of wealth! with all thy store,
How dar'st thou let one worthy man be poor?
Shall half the new-built churches round thee fall?
Make Quays, build Bridges, or repair White-hall:
Or to thy country let that heap be lent,
As M**o's1 was, but not at five per cent.

Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her mind,
Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind.
And who stands safest? tell me, is it he

105

110

115

120

125

In peace provides fit arms against a war?

Thus BETHEL spoke, who always speaks his thought,

And always thinks the very thing he ought:

130

His equal mind I copy what I can,

And, as I love, would imitate the Man.

'Tis true, no Turbots dignify my boards,

But gudgeons, flounders, what my Thames affords:

To Hounslow-heath I point and Bansted-down*,

Thence comes your mutton, and these chicks my own:

From yon old walnut-tree a show'r shall fall;

145

And grapes, long ling'ring on my only wall,

And figs from standard and espalier join;
The dev'l is in you if you cannot dine:

Then cheerful healths (your Mistress shall have place),
And, what's more rare, a Poet shall say Grace.

150

which he sold in 1716. The sum which he left
to his son was something under £4000. The 'five
acres of rented land' are the Twickenham estate.]
4 [Between Caterham and Epsom.]
5 [Pope's economy in the matter of wine of-