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And here, moved again with fresh indignation at his llan
derers, he takes the advice of Horace, sume fuperbiam quæfitam
meritis, and draws a fine picture of his moral and poetic con-
duct through life. In which he fhews that not fame, but
VIRTUE was the constant object of his ambition : that
for this he opposed himself to all the violence of Cabals, and
the treacheries of Courts: the various iniquities of which
having distinctly specified, he fums them up in that most atro-
cious and sensible of all (Ver. 333 to 360.)
“ The whisper, that to greatness still too bear,
“ Perhaps yet vibrates on his Sov'REIGN's ear.
" Welcome for thee, fair Virtue! all the past :
“For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev'n the last."
But here again his Friend interrupts the strains of his divine
enthusiasm ; and desires him to clear up one objection made
to his Conduct at Court. " That it was inhumane to insult
" the Poor, and ill-breeding to affront the Great." To
which he replies, That indeed in his pursuit of Vice, he rarely
considered how Knävery was circumstanced; but followed it,
with his vengeance, indifferently, whether it led to the Pil-
lory, or the Drawing Room (Ver. 359 to 368.)
But lest this should give his Reader the idea of a favage
intractable virtue, which could bear with nothing, and
would pardon nothing, he takes to himself the shame of own-
ing that he was of so easy a nature, as to be duped by the
Nenderest appearances ; a pretence 10 virtue in a witty womnan:
fo forgiving, that he had fought out the object of his benefi-
cence in a personal enemy : so humble, that he had fubmitted
to the conversation of bad poets: and so forbearing, that he
had curbed in his resentment under the most shocking of all
calumnies, abuses on bis Father and Mether (Ver. 367 to 388.)
This naturally leads him to give a short account of their
births, fortunes, and dispositions ; which ends with the ten-
derest wishes for the happiness of his Friend; intermixed
with the most pathetic description of that filial Piety, in the
exercise of which he makes his own happiness to confift.
“ Me, let the tender office long engage
• To rock the Cradle of 'reposing Age ;
" With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath,
“ Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death,
Explore the thought, explain the afking eye,
* And keep a while one Parent from the fky!”
THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
ASTOR, LENOX AND
Shut, shut theDoor, good Solin.fatigud I said Tye up the Knocker, say Iinsick, in dead.
And now this incomparable Poem, which holds so much of the DRAMA, and opens with all the disorder and vexation that every kind of impertinence and Nander could occafion, concludes with the utmost calmness and serenity, in the retired enjoyment of all the tender offices of FRIENDSHIP and PIETY (Ver. 387 to the End.]
P. HUT, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd
the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead.
The Dog-star rages! nay, tis past a doubt,
All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out:
Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
S They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
NOTES. VER. I. Shut, fut the door, good John!] John Searl, his old and faithful servant : whom he has remembered, under that character, in his Wi.
What walls can guard me, or what shades can
They pierce my Thickets, thro'
By land, by water, they renew the charge,
They stop thechariot, and they board the barge. 10
No place is sacred, not the Church is free,
Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me:
Then from the Mint walks forth the Man of
Happy! to catch me, just at Dinner-time.
Is there a Parson much be-mus'd in beer, 15
A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer,
A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,
pens a Stanza, when he should engross?
Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls
With defp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls?
After Ver. 20. in the MS.
Is there a Bard in durance ? turn them free,
With all their brandish'd reams they run to me:
Is there a 'Prentice, having seen two plays,
Who would do something in his Sempti ess’ praise
VER. 12. Ev’n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me ] The
beauty of this line arises from the figurative terms of the pre-
dicate alluding to the subje&t. A secret, in elegant expression,
which our Author often practised.
VER. 13. Mint.) A place to which insolvent debtors re. tired, to enjoy an illegal protection, which they were there suffered to afford one another, from the persecution of their creditors.