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 POEM S. 
 
 B Y 
 
 C CHURCHILL.
 
 P O E M S. 
 
 B Y 
 
 C. CHURCHILL. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 
 THE APOLOGY. 
 NIGHT. 
 
 THE PROPHECY OF 
 FAMINE. 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 
 
 AND 
 
 THE GHOST, IN 
 FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, 
 BY DRYDEN LEACH; 
 And fold by W. Flexney, at Gray 's-Inn Gate, Holborn ; G. Kearsly, Ludgatc- 
 Street; T.Henderson, at the Royal-Exchange; J. Coote, in Pater- noftcr- Row j 
 J.Gardner, in Charles- Street, Weftminfter; J. Almon, in Piccadilly; and E. 
 Broughton, at Oxford. 
 
 MDCCLXIII.
 
 
 THE 
 
 R O S C I A 
 
 Rose I US deceas'd, each high afph*ing play'r 
 Pulli'd all his int'reft for the vacant chair ; 
 The bufkin'd heroes of the mimic ftage 
 No longer whine in love, and rant in rage ; 
 The monarch quits his throne, and condcfccnds- 
 Humbly to court the favour of liis friends ; 
 For pity's fake tells undeferv'd mifhaps, 
 And, their applaufe to gain, recounts his claps. 
 Thus the vidorious chiefs of ancient Rome, 
 To win the mob, a fuppliant's form affume 5 
 
 B In
 
 2 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 In pompous ftraiii fight o'er th' extinguiili'd war. 
 And flicw where honour bled in ev'ry fear. 
 
 But though bare Merit might in Rome appear 
 The ftrongeft plea for favour, 'tis not here j 
 We form our judgment in another way ; 
 And they will beft fucceed, who beft can pay : 
 Thofe, who would gain the votes of Britifh tribes, 
 Muft add to force of Merit, force of Bribes. 
 
 What can an aclor give ? in evVy age 
 Cadi hath been rudely banifli'd from the ftage ; 
 Monarchs themfclves, to grief of ev'ry play'r, 
 Appear as often as their image there: 
 They can't, Jike candidate for other feat, 
 Pour fcas of wine, and mountains raife of meat. 
 Wine ! they could bribe you with the world as foon ; 
 And of roaft beef, they only know the tune : 
 But what they have they give; could Clive do more, 
 Though for each million he had brought home four? 
 
 Shu TER keeps open houfe at Southwark fair, 
 And hopes the friends of humour will be there. 
 
 In
 
 THE ROSCIAD. ;^ 
 
 In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat 
 For thofe who laughter love, inftead of meat ; 
 FooTE, at Old Houfe, for even Foote will be,, 
 In felf-conceit, an a6lor, bribes with tea ; 
 Which Wilkinson at fecond-hand receives, 
 And at the New, pours waters on the leaves^ 
 
 The town divided, each runs fev'ral ways, 
 As paflion, humour, int'reft, party, fways. 
 Things of no moment, colour of the hair, 
 Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair, 
 A drefs well chofen, or a patch mifplac'd. 
 Conciliate favour, or create diftafte. 
 
 From galleries loud peals of laughter roll. 
 And thunder Shuter's praifes, — he's fo droll. 
 Embox'd, the ladies muft have fomething fmart, 
 Palmer! Oh! Palmer tops the janty part. 
 Seated in pit, the dwarf, with aching eyes. 
 Looks up, and vows that Barry's out of fize;, 
 Whilft to fix feet the vig rous ftripling grown. 
 Declares that Ga rrick is another Co an-. 
 
 B 2 When
 
 4 THE R O S C I A D. 
 
 When place of judgment is by whim fupply'd, 
 And our opinions have their rife in pride ; 
 AVhen, in difcourfing on each mimic elf. 
 We praife and cenfure with an eye to felf ; 
 All muft meet friends, and Ackman bids as fair 
 In fuch a court, as Gar rick, for the chair. 
 
 At length agreed, all fquabbles to decide. 
 By fome one judge the caufe was to be try'd ; 
 But this their fquabbles did afrefh renew. 
 Who fliould be judge in fuch a trial: — Who? 
 
 For Johnson fome, but Johnson, it was fear'd, 
 Would be too grave; and Sterne too gay appear'd; 
 Others for Franklin voted; but 'twas known, 
 He ficken'd at all triumphs but his own ; 
 For CoLMAN many, but the peevifh tongue 
 Of prudent Age found out that he was Young. 
 For Murphy fome few fArfri7ig wits declar'd, 
 Whilfc Folly clapp'd her hands, and Wisdom ftar'd. 
 
 To mifchlcf train'd, e'en from his mother's wcmb^ 
 Grown old in fraud, tho' yet in manhood's bloom. 
 
 Adopting
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 5 
 
 Adopting arts, by which gay villains rife, 
 
 And reach the heights, which honeft men defpife ; 
 
 Mute at the bar, and in the fenate loud, 
 
 Dull 'mongft the dulieft, proudeft of the proud ; 
 
 A pert prim Prater of the northern race. 
 
 Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face. 
 
 Stood forth, — and thrice he wav'd his lilly hand — 
 
 And thrice he twirl'd his Tye — thrice ftrok'd his band — 
 
 ^' At Friendfhip's call (thus oft with traitVous aim, 
 Men, void of faith, ufurp faith's facred name) 
 " At Friendfhip's call I come, by Murphy fent, 
 " Who thus by me developes his intent. 
 *' But left, transfusd^ the Spirit fliould be loft, 
 '' That Spirit^ which in ftorms of Rhef?^ic toft, 
 " Bounces about, and flies like bottled beer, 
 ^' In his own words his own intentions hear. 
 
 " Thanks to my friends. — But to vile fortunes born, 
 '' No robes of fur thefe flioulders muft adorn. 
 *^' Vain your applaufe, no aid from thence I draw; 
 " Vain all my wit, — for what is wit in law? 
 *' Twice (curs'd rememb'rance !) twice I ftrove to gain 
 *' Admittance 'mongft the law-inftruded train, 
 
 *' Who
 
 6 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 *^ Who in the Temple and Gray's-Inn, prepare 
 '^ For client's wretched feet the legal fnare ; 
 <' Dead to thofe arts, which polifla and refine, 
 '' Deaf to all worth, becaufe that worth was Mine^ 
 '^ Twice did thofe blockheads ftartle at my name,. 
 And, foul rcjedlion ! gave me up to fhame. 
 To laws and lawyers then I bad adieu, 
 And plans of far more lib'ral note purfue. 
 Who will may be a Judge — my kindling breaft 
 Burns for that Chair which Roscius once poffefs'd: 
 Here give your votes,, your int'reft here exert, 
 '' And letSuccefs for once attend Defert." 
 
 With fleek appearance, and with ambling pace,. 
 And, type of vacant head, with vacant face, 
 The Proteus Hill put in his modeji plea, — 
 *' Let Favour fpeak for others. Worth for me." — 
 For who, like him, his various pow'rs could call 
 Into fo many (hapes, and fliine in all ? 
 Who could fo nobly grace the motley lift, 
 Adlor, Infpedlor, Dodlor, Botanift ? 
 Knows any one fo well, fure no one knows, — 
 At once to play, prefcribc, compound, compofe ? 
 
 Who
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 7 
 
 Who caii?^ — But Woodward came, — Hill flipp'd away. 
 Melting, like ghofts before the rifing day. 
 
 With that low Cunning, which in fools fupplies. 
 And amply too, the place of being wife, 
 Which nature, kind indulgent parent, gave 
 To qualify the Blockhead for a Knave ; 
 With that fmooth Falshood, whofe appearance charms, 
 And reafon of each wholfome doubt difarms, 
 Which to the loweft depths of guile defcends, 
 By vilefl: means purfues the vileft ends. 
 Wears Friendfhip's maik for purpofes of fpite. 
 Fawns in the day, and Butchers in the night ; 
 With that malignant Envy, which turns pale, 
 And fickens, even if a friend prevail, 
 Which merit and fuccefs purfues with hate. 
 And damns the worth it cannot imitate ; 
 With the cold Caution of a coward's fplcen. 
 Which fears not guilt, but always feeks a fcreen, 
 Which keeps this maxim ever in her view — 
 Whats bafely done, jlmdd be do?ie fafely too ; 
 With that dull, rooted, callous Impudence, 
 Which, dead to fliame, and evVy nicer fenfe. 
 
 Ne'er
 
 8 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 Ne'er blufli'd, unlefs, in fpreading Vice's fnares, 
 She blundcr'd on fome Virtue unawares ; 
 With all thefe bleflings, which we feldom find 
 LavifL'd by Nature on one happy mind, 
 A Motley Figure, of the Fribble Tribe, 
 Which Heart can fcarce conceive, or pen defcribe. 
 Came f7np'ri?jg on ; to ai'certain whofe fex 
 Twelve fage impannell'd Matrons would perplex. 
 Nor Male^ nor Female ; Neither ^ and yet both ; 
 Of Neuter Gender, tho' of Irifl:> growth ; 
 A fix-foot fuckling, mincing in its gait ; 
 Affeded, peevifii, prim, and delicate; 
 Fearful it feem'd, tho' of Athletic make, 
 Left bf^utal breezes fhould too roughly fhake 
 Its tender form, 2ini favage motion fpread 
 O'er its pale cheeks the horrid manly red. 
 
 Much did It talk, in its own pretty phrafe. 
 Of Genius and of Tafte, of Play Vs and Plays ; 
 Much too of writings, which It/elf had wrote, 
 Of fpecial merit, tho' of little note ; 
 For fate, in a ftrange humour, had decreed 
 That what It wrote, none but Itfeif fhould read ; 
 
 Much
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 5r 
 
 Much too // chattered of Dramatic Laws, 
 Misjudging Critics, and mifplac'd applaufe, 
 Then, with a fdf-complacent jutting air, 
 It f?nird, it fmirKd, It wriggPcl to the chairs 
 And with an aukward brifknefs not its own. 
 Looking around, and perking on the throne, 
 Triumphant feem'd, when that ftrange favage Dame. 
 Known but to few, or only known by nam.e. 
 Plain Common Sense, appeared, by Nature there 
 Appointed, with plain Truth, to guard the Chair. 
 The Pageant faw, and blafted with her frown, 
 To Its firft ftate of Nothing melted down. 
 
 Nor fhall the Muse (for even there the pride 
 Of this vain Nothing (hall be mortified) 
 Nor ihall the Muse (fhould Fate ordain her rhime% 
 Fond pleafing thought ! to hve in after-times) 
 With fuch a Trifler's name her pages blot ; 
 Known be the Charader, the Thi^tg forgot ; 
 Let 7/, to difappoint each future aim, 
 Live without SeXy and die without a name ! 
 
 Cold-blooded critics, by enervate fires 
 Scarce hammer'd out, when nature's feeble fires 
 
 C Glimmer'd
 
 10 THE R O S C r A D. 
 
 Glimmered their laft ; whofe flugglifli blood, Half frozs^, 
 
 Creeps lab'ring thro' the veins ; whofe heart ne'er glov/s 
 
 With fancy-kindled heat: — A fervile race, 
 
 Who, in mere want of fault, all merit place ;. 
 
 Who blind obedience pay to ancient fchools, 
 
 Bigots to Greece, and llaves to niufty rules ; 
 
 With folemn confequence declar'd that none 
 
 Could judge that caufe but Sopkocles alone. 
 
 Dupes to their fancied excellence, the crowdy 
 
 Obfequious to the facred didate, bow'd. 
 
 When, from amid ft the throng, a Youth ftood forth^. 
 Unknown his perfon, not unknown his worth ; 
 His looks befpoke applaufe ; alone he flood. 
 Alone he ftemm'd the mighty critic flood. 
 He talk'd of ancients, as the man became 
 Who priz'd our own, but envied not their fame;: 
 With noble revVence fpoke of Greece and RomCj . 
 And fcorn'd to tear the laurel from the tomb, 
 
 " But more than juft to other countries grown^ 
 '' Muft wc turn bafe apoftatcs to our own? 
 " Where do thefe words of Greece and Rome excel, 
 " That England may not pleafe the ear as well ? 
 
 '' Wiiat
 
 THE ROSCIAD. ii 
 
 What mighty magic's in the place or air, 
 That all perfedlion needs muft center there ? 
 In ftates, let ftrangers blindly be preferred ; 
 In ftate of letters, Merit fliould be heard. 
 Genius is of no country, her pure ray 
 Spreads all abroad, as gen'ral as the day : 
 Foe to reftraint, from place to place fhe flies, 
 And may hereafter e'en in Holland rife. 
 May notj to give a pleafing fancy fcope, 
 And chear a patriot heart with patriot hope ; 
 May not fome great extenfive genius raife, 
 The name of Britain 'bove Athenian praife ; 
 And, whilft brave thirft of fame his bofom warms, 
 Make England great in Letters as in Arms ? 
 There may — there hath — and Shakes PEARE'smufeafpires 
 Beyond the reach of Greece ; with native fires 
 Mounting aloft, he wings his daring flight, 
 Whilft Sophocles below ftands trembling at his height. 
 Why fhould we then abroad for judges roam. 
 When abler judges we may find at home? 
 Happy in tragic and in comic powVs, 
 Have we not Shakespeare? — Is not Johnson ours? 
 For them, your nat'ral judges, Britons, vote ; 
 They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons wrote." 
 
 C 2 He
 
 12 
 
 THE R o s e r A D, 
 
 He faid, and conquered — Scnfe refum'd her fwayj,, 
 And difappointed pedants ftalk'd away. 
 Shakespeare and Johnson, with deferv'd applaufcj. 
 Joint-judges were ordain'd to try the caufe. 
 Mean-time the ftranger ev'ry voice employ'd, 
 To afk or tell his name. — " Who is it?" — Lloyd*, 
 
 Thus, when the aged friends of Job flood mutCj, 
 And, tamely prudent, gave up the difpute, 
 Elihu, with the decent warmth of youthj 
 Boldly flood forth the advocate of Truth ; 
 Confuted Falfhood, and difabled pride,. 
 Whilft baffled age flood fnarling at his fide,. 
 
 The day of tryal's fix'd, nor any fear 
 Lefl day of tryal fhould be put off here. 
 Caufes but feldom for delay can call 
 In courts where forms are few, fees none at alL . 
 
 The morning came, nor find I that the fun,, 
 As he on other great events hath done. 
 Put on a brighter robe than what he wore 
 To go his journey in the day before, 
 
 Full
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 
 
 Full in the centre of a fpacious plain, 
 0n plan entirely new, where nothing vain, 
 Nothing magnificent appear'd, but Art, 
 With decent modefty, perform'd her part, 
 Rofe a tribunal : from no other court 
 It borrow'd ornament, or fought fupport : 
 No juries here were pack'd to kill or clear, 
 No bribes were taken, nor oaths broken, here 9 
 No gownfmen, partial to a client's caufe, 
 To their own purpofe tun'd the pliant laws. 
 Each judge was true and fteady to his truft. 
 As Mansfield wife, and. as old Forster juft,- 
 
 In the firft feat, in robe of various dyes, 
 A noble wildnefs flafhing from his eyes, 
 Sat Shakespeare. — In one hand a wand he bore, . 
 For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore ; 
 The other held a globe, which to his will 
 Obedient turn'd, and own'd the mafker's fkill : 
 Things of the nobleft kind his genius drew, 
 And look'd through Nature at a fingle view: 
 A loofc he gave to his unbounded foul, 
 And taught new lands to rife, new feas to roll; 
 
 Call'd
 
 14 T H E R O S C I A D. 
 
 Call'd into being fcenes unknown before, 
 
 And, pafficg Nature's bounds, was fomething more. 
 
 Next Johnson fat, in antient learning train'd, 
 His rigid Judgment Fancy's flights reftrain'd, 
 Correctly prun'd each wild luxuriant thought, 
 Mark'd out her courfe, nor fpar'd a glorious fault. 
 The book of man he read with niceft art, 
 And ranfack'd all the fecrets of the heart ; 
 Exerted Penetration's utmoft force, 
 And trac'd each paffion to its proper fource, 
 Then, flrongly mark'd, in liveliefl: colours drew. 
 And brought each foible forth to public view. 
 The Coxcomb felt a lafh in ev'ry word, 
 And fools hung out, their brother fools deterr'd. 
 ■His comic humour kept the world in awe. 
 And Laughter frighten'd Folly more than Law. 
 
 But, hark ! — The trumpet founds, the crowed gives way, 
 And the proceflion comes in jufl: array. 
 
 Now fliouid I, in fome fvveet poetic line, 
 OlTer up incenfe at Apollo's flirine; 
 
 Invoke
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 15 
 
 Invoke tlie niufe to quit her calm abode. 
 And waken mem'ry with a fleeping ode. 
 For how fhoiJd mortal man, in mortal verfe. 
 Their titles, merits, or their names rehearfe ? 
 But give, kind Dulnefs, memory and rhime, 
 We'll put off Genius till another time. 
 
 Firft, ORDER came, — with folemn ftep, and flovvj^ 
 In meafur'd time his feet were tauaht to o-o. 
 Behind, from time to time, he caft his eye. 
 Left This fhould quit his place. That ftep awry. 
 Appearances to fave his only care ; 
 So things feems right, no matter what they are. 
 In him his parents faw themfelves renew'd, 
 Begotten by fir Critic on faint Prude, 
 
 Then canie druin^ trumpet^ hautboy^ fiddle^ Jtute^- 
 Next fnuffer^ fweeper^ JJjtfterj foldier^ mute : 
 Legions of angels all in white advance ; 
 Furies, all fire, come forward in a dance : 
 Pantomine figures then are brought to view. 
 Fools hand in hand with fools, go two by two. 
 Next came the treafurer of either houfe; 
 One with full purfe, t'other with not a fous. 
 
 Behind
 
 i6 T H E R O S C I A D, 
 
 Behind a group of figures awe create, 
 Set off with all th' impertinence of ftate 3 
 By lace and feather confecrate to fame, 
 Expletive kings, and queens without a name. 
 
 Here Ha yard, all ferene, in the fame ftrains. 
 Loves, hates, and rages, triumphs, and complains ; 
 Flis eafy vacant face proclaim'd a heart 
 Which could not feel emotions, nor impart. 
 With him came mighty Da vies. — On my life. 
 That Davie s hath a very pretty wife ! 
 Statefman all over! — In plots famous grown! — 
 He mouths a fentence, as curs mouth a bone. 
 
 Next Holland came. — With truly tragic ftalk, 
 He creeps, he flies. — A Hero fliould not walk. 
 As if with heav'n he warr'd, his eager eyes 
 Planted their batteries againfl: the fkies. 
 Attitude, adion, air, paufe, ftart, figh, groan, 
 He borrow'd, and made ufe of as his own. 
 By fortune thrown on any other ftage. 
 He might, perhaps, have pleas'd an eafy age , 
 But now appears a copy, and no more. 
 Of fomcthino; better we have fcen before. 
 
 Th 
 
 e
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 17 
 
 The adlor who would build a folid fame, 
 Muft imitation's fervile arts difclaim ; 
 A61 from himfelf, on his own bottom ftand. 
 I hate e'en Gar rick thus at fecond hand. 
 
 Behind came King. — Bred up in modeft lore, 
 Bafhful and young he fought Hibernia's fhore ; 
 Hibernia, fam'd, 'bove ev'ry other grace, 
 For matchlefs intrepidity of face. 
 From her his Features caught the gen'rous flame^ 
 And bid defiance to all fenfe of fhame: 
 Tutor'd by her all rivals to furpafs, 
 'Mongft Drury's Ions he comes, and fhines in Brass. 
 
 Lo Yates ! — Without the leaft finefle of art 
 He gets applaufe! — I wifli he'd get his part. 
 When hot impatience is in full career. 
 How vilely " Hark'e! Hark'e!" grates the ear? 
 When active fancy from the brain is fent. 
 And ftands on tip-toe for fome wifh'd event, 
 I hate thofe carelefs blunders which recall 
 Sufpended fenfe, and prove it fidtion all. 
 
 D la
 
 i8 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 In charaders of low and vulgar mould, 
 Where nature's coarfeft features wc behold, 
 Where, deftitute of ev'ry decent grace, 
 Unmanner'd jefts are blurted in your face, 
 There Yates with juftice ftridl attention draws, 
 Ads truly from himfelf, and gains applaufe. 
 But when, to pleafe himfelf or charm his wife, 
 He aims at fomething in politer life, 
 When, blindly thwarting Nature's ftubborn plan, 
 He treads the ftage, by way of gentleman. 
 The fop, who no one touch of breeding knows, 
 Looks like Tom Errand drefs'd in Clincher's deaths. 
 Fond of his drefs, fond of his perfon grown, 
 Laugh'd at by all, and to himfelf unknown, 
 From fide to fide he ftruts, he fmiles, he prates. 
 And feems to wonder what's become of Yates. 
 
 Woodward, endow'd with various pow'rs of face^ 
 Great mafter in the fcience of grimace. 
 From Ireland ventures, fav'rite of the town, 
 Lur'd by the pleafing profped of renown , 
 A fqueaking Harlequin made up of whim. 
 He twifts, he twines, he tortures ev'ry limb, 
 
 Plays
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 19 
 
 Plays to the eye with a mere monkey's art. 
 
 And leaves to fenfe the conqueft of the heart. 
 
 We laugh indeed, but on reflection's birth, 
 
 We wonder at ourfelves, and curfe our mirth. 
 
 His walk of parts he fatally mifplac'd. 
 
 And inclination fondly took for tafte ; 
 
 Hence hath the town fo often feen difplay'd 
 
 Beau in Burlefque, High Life in Mafquerade. 
 
 But when bold Wits, not fuch as patch up plays, 
 
 Cold and correct in thefe inflpid days, 
 
 Some comic charadter, ftrong-featur'd, urge 
 
 To probability's extremefl verge. 
 
 Where modeft judgment her decree fufpends. 
 
 And for a time, nor cenfures, nor commends, 
 
 Where critics can't determine on the fpot. 
 
 Whether it is in Nature found or not. 
 
 There Woodward fafely fhall his pow'rs exert, 
 
 Nor fail of favour where he {hews defert. 
 
 Hence he in Bobadil fuch praifes bore. 
 
 Such worthy praifes, Kitely fcarce had more. 
 
 By turns transform'd into all kind of fliapes, 
 Conftant to none, Foote laughs, cries, flruts, and fcrapes: 
 
 D 2 Now
 
 2oTHE ROSCIAD. 
 
 Now in the center, now in van or rear, 
 The Proteus fhifts, Bawd, Parfon, Auctioneer. 
 His ftrokes of humour, and liis burfts of fport 
 Are all contain'd in this one word, Diflort. 
 Doth a man flutter, look a-fquiat, or halt ? 
 Mimics draw humour out of Nature's fault:: 
 With perfonal defedls their mirth adorn, 
 And hang misfortunes out to public fcorn. 
 E'en I, whom Nature cafe in hideous mould, 
 Whom havinor made fhe trembled to behold,. 
 Beneath the load of mimicry may groan. 
 And find that Nature's errors are my own. 
 
 Shadows behind of Foot e and Woodward came; 
 Wilkinson this, Obrien was that name. 
 Strange to relate, but wonderfully true, 
 That even fhadows have their fhadows too !; 
 With not a fmgle comic pow'r endu'd. 
 The firft a mere mere mimic's mimic floods 
 The laft, by Nature form'd to pleafe, who fhows^ 
 In Johnson's Stephen, which way Genius grows ^. 
 Self quite put off, affe6ls, with too much art. 
 To put on Woodward in each mangled part ; 
 
 Adapts
 
 THE R O S C I A D, 
 
 21- 
 
 Adopts his flirug, his wink, his ftare ; nay, more, 
 His voice, and croaks; for Woodward croak'd before* 
 When the dull copier iimple grace negleds, 
 And refts his Imitation in Defedls, 
 We readily .forgive ; but fuch vile arts 
 Are double guilt in men of real parts,. 
 
 By Nature form'd in her perverfeft mood, 
 With no one requifite of Art endu'd, 
 Next Jackson came — Obferve that fettled glare, 
 Which better fpeaks a Puppit than a Play'r ; 
 Lift to that voice — did ever Discord hear 
 Sounds fo well fitted to her untun'd ear ?- 
 When, to enforce fome very tender part,. 
 The right hand fleeps by inftind; on the heart, 
 His foul, of every other thought bereft. 
 Is anxious only where to place the left ; 
 He fobs and pants to footh his weeping fpoufe. 
 To fpoth his weeping mother, turns and bows. 
 Aukward, embarrafs'd, ftiff, without the fkill 
 Of moving gracefully, or ftanding ftill. 
 One leg, as if fufpicious of his brother, 
 Defirous feems to run away from t'othen 
 
 Some
 
 22 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 Some errors, handed down from age to age, 
 Plead Cuftom's force, and ftill poflefs the ftage. 
 That's vile — fliould we a parent's faults adore, 
 And err, becaufe our fathers err'd before? 
 If inattentive to the author's mind, 
 Some adlors made the jeft they could not find, 
 If by low tricks they marr'd fair Nature's mein, 
 And blurr'd the graces of the fimple fcene, 
 Shall we, if reafon rightly is employed, 
 Not fee their faults, or feeing not avoid ? 
 When Falstaff ftands detected in a lye. 
 Why, without meaning, rowls Love's glafiy eye? 
 Why? — There's no caufe — at leaft no caufe we know- 
 It was the Faihion twenty years ago. 
 Fafihion — a word which knaves and fools may ufe 
 Their knavery and folly to excufe. 
 To copy beauties, forfeits all pretence 
 To fame — to copy faults, is want of fenfe. 
 
 Yet (tho' in fome particulars he fails. 
 Some few particulars, where Mode prevails) 
 If in thefe hallow'd times, when fober, fad. 
 All Gentlemen are melancholy mad, 
 
 When
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 23 
 
 When 'tis not deem'd fo great a crime by half 
 
 To violate a veftal, as to laugh, 
 
 Rude mirth may hope prefumptuous to engage 
 
 An Adl of Toleration for the ftage, 
 
 And courtiers will, Hke reafonable creatures, 
 
 Sufpend vain Fafhion, and unfcrevi^ their features. 
 
 Old Falstaff, play'd by Love, fhall pleafe once more. 
 
 And humour fet the audience in a roar. 
 
 A^lors I've feen, and of no vulgar name. 
 Who, being from one part pofiefs'd of fame, 
 Whether they are to laugh, cry, whine, or bawl, 
 Still introduce that fav'rite part in all. 
 Here, Love, be cautious — ne'er be thou betray 'd 
 To call in that wag Falstaff's dang'rous aid; 
 Like Goths of old, howe'er he feems a friend. 
 He'll feize that throne, you wifh him to defend, 
 In a peculiar mould by Humour caft, 
 For Falstaff fam'd — Himfelf the Firft and Laft, — 
 He ftands aloof from all — maintains his ftate. 
 And fcorns, like Scot/men^ to aflimilate. 
 Vain all difguife — too plain we fee the trick, 
 Tho' the knight wears the weeds of Dominic, 
 
 And
 
 24 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 And Boniface, difgrac'd, betrays the fmack, 
 In Anno Domini, of Falstaff's fack. 
 
 Arms crofs'd, brows bent, eyes fix'd, feet marching flow, 
 A band of malecontents with fpleen o'erflow; 
 Wrapt in conceit's impenetrable fog, 
 Which pride, like Phoebus, draws from ev'ry bog, 
 They ciirfe the managers, and curfe the town, 
 Whofe partial favour keeps fuch merit down. 
 
 But if feme man, more hardy than the refl:, 
 Should dare attack thefe gnatlings in their nefl: ; 
 At once they rife with impotence of rage. 
 Whet their fmall flings, and buzz about the flage. 
 '' 'Tis breach of privilege! — Shall any dare 
 " To arm fatyric truth againfl a play'r ? 
 " Prefcriptive rights we plead time out of mind ; 
 " Adors, unlafli'd themfelves, may lafh mankind." 
 
 What ! fhall opinion then, of nature free 
 And lib'ral as the vagrant air, agree 
 To ruft in chains like thefe, imposed by Things 
 Which, lefs than nothing, ape the pride of kings ? 
 
 No
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 25 
 
 No, — though half-poets with half-players join 
 To curfe the freedom of each honeft line ; 
 Though rage and malice dim their faded cheek, 
 What the mufe freely thinks, fhe'U freely fpeak y 
 With juft difdain of ev'ry paltry fneer. 
 Stranger alike to flattery and fear, 
 In purpofe fix'd, and to herfelf a rule, 
 Public Contempt fliall wait the Public Fool. 
 
 Austin w^ould always gliften in French filks, 
 AcKMAN would Norris be, and Packer, Wilks, 
 For who, like Ackman, can with humour pleafe ? 
 Who can, like Packer, charm with fprightly eafe? 
 Higher than all the reft, fee Bransby ftrut: 
 A mighty Gulliver in Lilliput ! 
 Ludicrous nature ! which at once could fhew 
 A man fo very High, fo very Low. 
 
 If I forget thee, Blakes, or if I fay 
 Aught hurtful, may I never fee the play. 
 Let critics, with a fupercilious air. 
 Decry thy various merit, and declare 
 Frenchman is ftill at top; — but fcorn that rage 
 Which, in attacking ihee, attacks the age. 
 
 E French
 
 26 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 French follies, univerfally embraced, 
 
 At once provoke our mirth, and form our tafte. 
 
 Long, from a nation ever hardly us'd, 
 At random cenfur'd, wantonly abus'd. 
 Have Britons drawn their fport, with partial view 
 Form'd o-en'ral notions from the rafcal few : 
 Condemn'd a people, as for vices known. 
 Which, from their country banifh'd, feek our own. 
 At length, howe'er, the flavifli chain is broke. 
 And Senfe awaken'd, fcorns her ancient yoke : 
 Taught by thee Moody, we now learn to raife 
 Mirth from their foibles ; from their virtues, praife. 
 
 Next came the legion, which our Siimfner Bayes, 
 From Alleys, here and there, contriv'd to raife, 
 Flufh'd with vaft hopes, and certain to fucceed, 
 With Wits who cannot write, and fcarce can read. 
 VetVans no more fupport the rotten caufe. 
 No more from Elliot's worth they reap applaufe, 
 Each on himfelf determines to rely. 
 Be Yates difbanded, and let Elliot fly. 
 Never did play'rs fo well an Author fit. 
 To Nature dead, and foes declared to Wit. 
 
 So
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 27 
 
 So loud each tongue, fo empty was each head, 
 
 So much they talk'd, fo very little faid, 
 
 So wond'rous dull, and yet fo wond'rous vain, 
 
 At once fo willing and unfit to reign. 
 
 That Reafon fwore, nor would the oath recall, 
 
 Their mighty Master's foul inform'd them all. 
 
 As one with various difappointments fad. 
 Whom Dullnefs only kept from being mad, 
 Apart from all the reft great Murphy came — 
 Common to fools and wits, the rage of fame. 
 What tho' the fons of Nonfcnfe hail him Sire, 
 Auditor, Author, Manager, and 'Squire, 
 His reftlefs foul's ambition flops not there, 
 To make his triumphs perfect, dubb him Play'r. 
 
 In perfon tall, a figure form'd to pleafe. 
 If Symmetry could charm, depriv'd of eafe. 
 When motionlcfs he ftands, we all approve; 
 What pity 'tis the thing was made to move. 
 
 His voice, in one dull deep unvaried found, 
 Seems to break forth from caverns under ground. 
 
 E 2 From
 
 28 THE ROSCIAD, 
 
 From hollow cheft the low fepulcral note 
 Unwilling heaves, and ftruggles in his throat. 
 
 Could authors butcher'd give an adlor grace, 
 All muft to him refign the foremoft place. 
 When lie attempts, in fome one favVite part, 
 To ape the feelings of a manly heart, 
 His honeft features the difguife defy. 
 And his face loudly gives his tongue the lye. 
 
 Still in extremes he knows no happy mean. 
 Or raving mad, or ftupidly ferene. 
 In cold -wrought fcenes the lifelefs ador flags, 
 In paflion tears the paflion into rags. 
 Can none remember? Yes — I know all muft — 
 When in the Moor he ground his teeth to duft, 
 When o'er the ftage he Folly's ftandard bore, 
 Whilft Common-Sense flood trembling at the door. 
 
 How few are found with real talents blefs'd, 
 Fewer with Nature's gifts contented reft. 
 Man from his fphere eccentric flarts aftray ; 
 All hunt for fame 3 but moft miftake the way. 
 
 Bred
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 29 
 
 Bred at St. Omer's to the Shuffling trade. 
 The hopeful youth a Jefuit might have made, 
 With various reading ftor'd his empty fkuU, 
 Learn'd without fenfe, and venerably dull ; 
 Or at fome Banker's deflc, Hke many more, 
 Content to tell that two and two make four. 
 His name had flood in City Annals fair, 
 And Prudent Dullness mark'd him for a Mayor. 
 
 What then could tempt thee, in a critic age, 
 Such blooming hopes to forfeit on a ftage ? 
 Could it be worth thy wond'rous wafte of pains ? 
 To publifli to the world thy lack of brains ? 
 Or might not reafon, e'en to thee, have fhewn 
 Thy greateft praife had been to live unknown? 
 Yet let not vanity, like thine, defpair : 
 Fortune makes Folly her peculiar care. 
 
 A vacant throne high-plac'd in Smith field view, 
 To facred Dullness and her first-born due. 
 Thither with hafte in happy hour repair. 
 Thy birth-right claim, nor fear a rival there. 
 Shuter himfelf fhall own thy jufter claim, 
 And venal Letdgers puff their Murphy's name, 
 
 Whilft
 
 30 T H E R O S C I A D; 
 
 Whilft Vaughan or Dapper, call him which you will, 
 Shall blow the trumpet, and give out the bill. 
 
 There rule fecure from critics and from fenfe, 
 Nor once fhall Genius rife to giv^e offence ; 
 Eternal peace fliall blefs the happy fliore. 
 And LITTLE FACTIONS break thy reft no more. 
 
 From Covent-Garden crowds promifcuous go, 
 Whom the mufe knows not, nor defires to know. 
 VetVans they feem'd, but knew of arms no more 
 Than if, till that time, arms they never bore : 
 Like Weftminfter militia train'd to fight. 
 They fcarcely knew the left hand from the right. 
 Afham'd among fuch troops to (hew their head. 
 Their chiefs were fcatter'd, and their heroes fled. 
 
 Sparks at his glafs fat comfortably down 
 To fep'rate frown from fmile, and fmile from frown. 
 Smith the genteel, the airy, and the fmart. 
 Smith was juft gone to fchool to fay his part, 
 Ross (a misfortune which we often meet) 
 Was faft afleep at dear Statyra's feet; 
 
 Statyra,
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 31 
 
 Statyra, with her hero to agree, 
 
 Stood on her feet as faft afleep as he. 
 
 Macklin, who largely deals in half-form'd founds, 
 
 Who wantonly tranfgreffes Nature's bounds, 
 
 Whofe Ading's hard, affeded, and conftrain'd, 
 
 Whofe features as each other they difdain'd, 
 
 At variance fet, inflexible and coarfe, 
 
 Ne'er know the workings of united force. 
 
 Ne'er kindly foften to each other's aid. 
 
 Nor fliew the mingled pow'rs of light and fhade. 
 
 No longer for a thanklefs ftage concern'd. 
 
 To worthier thoughts his mighty Genius turn'd, 
 
 Harangu'd, gave Ledures, made each fimple elf 
 
 Almoft as good a fpeaker as himfelf ; 
 
 Whilft the whole town, mad with miftaken zeal, 
 
 An aukward rage of Elocution feel; 
 
 Dull Cits and gave Divines his praife proclami. 
 
 And join v/ith Sheridan's their Macklin's name. 
 
 Shuter, who never car'd a fingle pin 
 
 Whether he left out nonfenfe, or put in. 
 
 Who aim'd at wit, tho', levell'd in the dark. 
 
 The random arrow feldom hit the mark. 
 
 At Iflington, all by the placid ftream 
 
 Where city fwains in lap of DuUnefs dream, 
 
 Where,
 
 32 T H E R O S C I A D. 
 
 Where, quiet as her ftrains their ftrains do flow, 
 That all the patron by the bards may know; 
 Secret as night, with Rolt's experienc'd aid, 
 The plan of future operations laid, 
 Projedled fchemes the fummer months to chear, 
 And fpin our happy Folly through the year. 
 
 But think not, though thefe daftard-chiefs are fled, 
 That Covent-Garden troops fhall want a head: 
 Harlequin comes their chief! — fee from afar, 
 The hero feated in fantafl:ie car ! 
 Wedded to Novelty, his only arms 
 Are wooden fwords, wands, talifmans, and charms ; 
 On one fide Folly fits, by fome calfd Fun, 
 And on the other, his arch-patron, Lun. 
 Behind, for liberty a-thirft in vain, 
 Senfe, helplefs captive, drags the galling chain. 
 Six rude mif-fliapen beafls the chariot draw, 
 Whom Reafon loaths, and Nature never faw, 
 Monfters, with tails of ice, and heads of fire ; 
 Gorgons, and hydras, and chymaeras dire. 
 Each was beflrodc by full as monftrous wight. 
 Giant, Dwarf, Genius, Elf, Hermaphrodite. 
 
 The
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 33 
 
 The Town, as ufual, met him in full cry ; 
 
 The Town, as ufual, knew no reafon why. 
 
 But Fadiion fo diredls, and Moderns raife 
 
 On Fafhion's mouldVing bafe, their tranfient praife. 
 
 Next to the field a band of females draw 
 Their force ; for Britain owns no Salique Lav/ : 
 Juft to their worth, we female rights admit, 
 Nor bar their claim to empire or to wit. 
 
 Firft, giglitig, plotting chamber-maids arrive. 
 Hoydens and romps, led on by Gen'ral Clive. 
 In fpite of outward blemifhes fhe fhone; 
 For Humour fam'd, and Humour all her own. 
 Eafy as if at Home the ftage fhe trod ; 
 Nor fought the critic's praife, nor fear'd his rod. 
 Original in fpirit and in eafe. 
 She pleas'd by hiding all attempts to pleafe. 
 No comic adlrefs ever yet could raife, 
 On Humour^s bafe, more merit or more praife. 
 
 With all the native vigour of fixteen, 
 Among the merry troop confpicuous feen, 
 
 See
 
 34 THE ROSCIAB, 
 
 See lively Pope advance in jig, and trip 
 
 Corinna, Cherry, Honeycomb, and Snip. 
 
 Not without Art, but yet to Nature true, 
 
 She charms the town with humour juft, yet new:. 
 
 Chear'd by her promife, we the lefs deplore 
 
 The fatal time when Clive flaall be no more. 
 
 Lo ! Vincent comes — with fim pie grace array 'd ; 
 She laughs at paltry arts, and fcorns parade. 
 Nature through her is by reflexion fhewn ; 
 Whilfl: Gay once more knows Polly for his own. 
 
 Talk not to me of diffidence and fear — 
 I fee it all, but muft forgive it here. 
 Defeds hke thefe which modest terrors caufe, 
 From Impudence itfelf extort applaufe. 
 Candour and Reafon ftill take Virtue's part ; 
 We love e'en foibles in fo good an heart. 
 
 Let Tommy Arne, with ufual pomp of ftile, 
 Whofe chief, whofe only merit's to compile. 
 Who, meanly pilf 'ring here and there a bit, 
 Deals mufic out as Murphy deals out Wit, 
 
 Publirti
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 35 
 
 Publifh propofals, laws for tafte prefer! be, 
 And chant the praife of an Italian tribe; 
 Let him rev^erfe kind Nature's firft decrees, 
 And teach e'en Brent a method not to pleafe ; 
 But never fhall a Truly British Ao-e 
 Bear a vile race of eunuchs on the ftage. 
 The boafted work's call'd National in vain, 
 If one Italian voice pollutes the ftrain. 
 Where tyrants rule, and flaves with joy obey, 
 Let flavifh minftrils pour th' enervate lay; 
 To Britons, far more noble pleafures fpring, 
 Jn native notes, whilfl: Beard and Vincent fing. 
 
 Might figure give a title unto fame, 
 What rival fhould with Yates difpute her claim? 
 But juftice may not partial trophies raife. 
 Nor fink the Adrefs in the Woman's praife. 
 Still, hand in hand, her words and adlions go, 
 And the heart feels more than the features fliow: 
 For, through the regions of that beauteous face. 
 We no variety of pailions trace ; 
 Dead to the foft emotions of the heart, 
 No kindred foftnefs can thofe eyes impart ; 
 
 F 2 The
 
 36 T H E R O S C T A D. 
 
 The brow, flill hx'd in forrovv's fiiUen frame, 
 Void of diftiiiction, niarks all parts the fame. 
 
 What's a fine perfon or a beauteous face, 
 Unlcfs deportment gives them decent grace ? 
 Blefs'd with all other rcquifites to pleafe, 
 Some want the ftriking elegance of Eafe ^ 
 The curious eye their aukward movement tire^ ; 
 They feem like puppets led about by wires. 
 Others, like ftatues, in one pofture ftill. 
 Give ereat ideas of the workman's ikill ; 
 Wond'ring, his art we praife the more we view, 
 And only grieve he gave not motion too. 
 Weak of themfelves are what we beauties call. 
 It is the manner which gives ftrength to all. 
 This teaches ev'ry beauty to unite, 
 And brings them forward in the nobleft light. 
 Happy in this, behold, amidft the throng, 
 With tranfient gleam of grace, Hart fweeps along. 
 
 If all the wonders of external grace, 
 A perfon finely turn'd, a mould of face, 
 Where, Union rare, Expreffion's lively force, 
 With Beauty's fofteft magic holds difcourfe, 
 
 Attrad
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 37 
 
 Attrad: the eye ; if feelings, void of art, 
 Rouze the quick paffions, and enflame the heart ; 
 If mulic, fvveetly breathing from the tongue, 
 Captives the ear, Bride muft not pafs unfung. 
 
 When fear, which rank ill-nature terms conceit. 
 By time and cuftom conquered, fhall retreat ; 
 When judgment, tutor'd by experience fage, 
 Shall fhoot abroad, and gather ftrength from age j 
 When heav'n in mercy fhall the ftage releafe 
 From the dull flumbers of a ftill-life piece ; 
 When fome ftale flow'r, difgraceful to the walk, 
 Which long hath hung, tho' withered, on the ftalk, 
 Shall kindly drop, then Bride flaall make her way, 
 And merit find a paflage to the day ; 
 Brought into adion fhe at once fhall raife 
 Her own renown, and juftify our praife. 
 
 Form'd for the tragic fcene, to grace the ftage, 
 With rival excellence of Love and Rage, 
 Mifcrefs of each foft art, with matchlefs fkill 
 To turn and wind the paffions as fhe will ; 
 To melt the heart with fympathetic woe, 
 Awake the figh, and teach the tear to flow; 
 
 To 
 
 19&T84:
 
 o8 1* Fl E R O S C I A Do 
 
 «_' 
 
 To put on Frenzy's wild diftraded glare, 
 And freeze the foul with horror and defpair ; 
 With jufl: defert enrolfd in endlefs fame, 
 Confcious of worth fuperior, Gibber came. 
 
 When poor Alicia's maddn'ing brains are rack'd^ 
 And ftrongly imag'd griefs her mind diftrad ; 
 Struck with her grief, I catch the madnefs too ! 
 My brain turns round, the headlefs trunk I view ! 
 The roof cracks, fhakes, and falls! — New horrors rife, 
 And Reafon buried in the ruin lies. 
 
 Nobly difdainful of each flavifli art. 
 She makes her firft attack upon the heart : 
 Pleas'd with the fummons, it receives her lawa, 
 And all is filence, fympathy, applaufe. 
 
 But when, by fond ambition drawn afide. 
 Giddy with praife, and puff'd with female pride, 
 She quits the tragic fcene, and, in pretence 
 To comic merit, breaks down Nature's fence; 
 I fcarcely can believe my ears or eyes. 
 Or find out Gibber through the dark difguife. 
 
 PrIT CHARD,
 
 THE R O S C I A D. 39 
 
 pRiTCHARD, by Nature for the flage defigii'd, 
 In perfon graceful, and in fenfe refin'd ; 
 Her art as much as Nature's friend became, 
 Her voice as free from blemifli as her fame. 
 Who knows fo well in majefty to pleafe, 
 Attemper'd with the graceful charms of eafe? 
 
 When Congreve's favoured pantomine to grace, 
 She comes a captive queen of Moorifh race ; 
 When Love, Hate, Jealoufy, Defpair and Rage, 
 With wildeft tumults in her breaft engage ; 
 Still equal to herfelf is Zara feen ; 
 Her paflions are the paffions of a Queen. 
 
 When fhe to murther whets the tim'rous Thane, 
 I feel ambition rufh through ev'ry vein ; 
 Perfuafion hangs upon her daring tongue, 
 My heart grows flint, and evVy nerve's new ftrung 
 
 In Comedy — ^* Nay, there," cries Critic, ** hold. 
 " Pritchard's for Comedy too fat and old. 
 " Who can, with patience, bear the grey coquette, 
 " Or force a laugh with over-grown Julett? 
 
 (( 
 
 Her
 
 40 T HE R O S C I A D. 
 
 " Her Speech, Look, Adion, Humour, all are juft; 
 •*' But then, her age and figure give difguft." 
 
 Are Foibles then, and Graces of the mind, 
 In real hfe to fize or age confined? 
 Do fpirits flow, and is good-breeding placed 
 In any fet circumlerence of waift ? 
 As we grow old, doth affedlation ceafe, 
 Or gives not age new vigour to caprice ? 
 If in originals thefe things appear, 
 Why fliould we bar them in the copy here ? 
 The nice pundilio-mongers of this age. 
 The grand minute reformers of the ftage, 
 Slaves to propriety of evVy kind, 
 Some ftandard-meafure for each part fliould find ; 
 Which when the beft of Adlors fhall exceed, 
 Let it devolve to one of fmaller breed. 
 All adors too upon the back fhould bear 
 Certificate of birth ; — time, when; — place, where. 
 For how can critics rightly fix their worth, 
 Unlefs they know the minute of their birth ? 
 An audience too, deceived, may find, too late. 
 That they have clapp'd an ad:or out of date. 
 
 Figure
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 41 
 
 Figure, I own, at firft may give offence, 
 And harfhly ftrike the eye's too curious fenfe : 
 But when perfedions of the mind break forth. 
 Humour's chafte faUies, Judgment's foHd worth ; 
 When the pure genuine flame, by Nature taught, 
 Springs into Senfe, and ev'ry adlion's Thought; 
 Before fuch merit all objedlions fly ; 
 Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick fix feet high. 
 
 Oft have I, Pr it chard, feen thy wond'rous {kill, 
 Confefs'd thee great, but find thee greater ftill. 
 That worth, which flione in fcatter'd rays before, 
 Collected now, breaks forth with double pow'r. 
 The Jealous Wife ! — On that thy trophies raife, 
 Inferior only to the Author's praife. 
 
 From Dublin, fam'd in legends of Romance 
 For mighty magic of enchanted lance, 
 With which her heroes arm'd victorious prove. 
 And like a flood rufli o'er the land of Love ; 
 Mossop and Barry came. — Names ne'er defign'd 
 By fate in the fame fentence to be join'd. 
 Rais'd by the breath of popular acclaim, 
 They mounted to the pinnacle of Fame ; 
 
 G There
 
 42 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 There the weak brain, made giddy with the height, 
 Spurr'd on the rival chiefs to mortal fight. 
 Thus fportive boys, around fome bafon's brim, 
 Behold the pipe-drawn bladders circling fwim : 
 But if, from lungs more potent, there arife 
 Two bubbles of a more than common fize, 
 Eager for honour they for fight prepare, 
 Bubble meets bubble, and both fink to air. 
 
 Mossop, attached to military plan, 
 Still kept his eye fix'd on his right-hand man: 
 Whilft the mouth meafures words with feeming fkill, 
 The right-hand labours, and the left lies ftill. 
 For he refolv'd on fcripture-grounds to go. 
 What the ri<>-ht dotli, the left-hand fhall not know. 
 With fliudied impropriety of fpeech. 
 He foars beyond the hackney critic's reach y 
 To epithets allots emphatic ftate, 
 Whilft principals, ungrac'd, like lacquies wait; 
 In ways firft trodden by himfelf excels. 
 And ftands alone in indeclinables ; 
 Conjundion, prepofition, adverb, join 
 To ftamp new vigour on the nervous line : 
 
 Jn
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 43 
 
 In monofyllables his thunders roll, 
 
 HE, SHE, IT, AND, WE, YE, THEY, fright the foul. 
 
 In perfon taller than the common fize. 
 Behold where Barry draws admiring eyes ! 
 When lab'ring paflions, in his bofom pent, 
 Convulfive rage and ftruggling heave for vent; 
 Spectators, with imagin'd terrors warm. 
 Anxious expedl the burfting of the ftorm : 
 But all unfit in fuch a pile to dwell, 
 His voice comes forth like Echo from her cell ; 
 To fwell the tempeft needful aid denies, 
 And all a-down the ftage in feeble murmurs dies. 
 
 What man, like Barrv, with fuch pains, can err 
 In elocution, adtion, character ? 
 What man could give, if Barry was not here, 
 Such well-applauded tendernefs to Lear? 
 Who elfe can fpeak fo very very fine. 
 That fenfe may kindly end with cv'ry line ? 
 
 Some dozen lines before the ghoft is there, 
 Behold him for the folcmn fccne prepare. 
 
 G 2 See
 
 44 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 See how he frames his eyes, poifes each limb, 
 Puts the whole body into proper trim. — 
 From whence we learn, with no great ftretch of art, 
 Five lines hence comes a ghoft, and, Ha ! a ftart. 
 
 When he appears mofl: perfedl, ftill we find 
 Something which jars upon, and hurts the mind. 
 Whatever lights upon a part are thrown. 
 We fee too plainly they are not his own. 
 No flame from Nature ever yet he caught. 
 Nor knew a feeling which he was not taught ; 
 He rais'd his trophies on the bafe of art, 
 And conn'd his paffions, as he conn'd his part. 
 
 QuiN, from afar, lur'd by the fccnt of fime, 
 A Stage Leviathan, put in his claim. 
 Pupil of Betterton and Booth. Alone, 
 Sullen he walk'd, and deem'd the chair his own. 
 For how fhould Moderns, muflirooms of the day^ 
 Who ne'er thofe mafters knew, know how to play ? 
 Grey-bearded vetVans, who, with partial tongue. 
 Extol the times when they themfelves were young , 
 Who, having loft all relifli for the ftage. 
 See not their own defedls, but lafli the age, 
 
 Receiv'd,
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 45 
 
 Receiv'd, with joyful murmurs of applaufe, 
 Their darling chief, and lin'd his fav'rite caufe. 
 
 Far be it from the candid mufe to tread 
 Infulting o'er the afhes of the dead. 
 But, juft to living merit, fhe maintains, 
 And dares the teft, whilft Garrick's Genius reigns ; 
 Ancients, in vain, endeavour to excel, 
 Happily prais'd, if they could adl as well. 
 But though prefcription's force we difallow, 
 Nor to antiquity fubmiflive bow ; 
 Though we deny imaginary grace, 
 Founded on accidents of time and place ; 
 Yet real worth of ev'ry growth fhall bear 
 Due praife, nor muft we, Quin, forget thee there. 
 
 His words bore fterling weight, nervous and ftrong; 
 In manly tides of fenfe they rolFd along. 
 Happy in art, he chiefly had pretence 
 To keep up numbers, yet not forfeit fenfe. 
 No ador ever greater heights could reach 
 In all the laboured artihce of fpeech. 
 Speech! Is that all? — And iliall an a6lor found 
 An univerfal fame on partial ground ? 
 
 Parrots-
 
 46 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 Parrots themfelves fpcak properly by rote, 
 
 And, ill fix months, my dog fliall howl by note. 
 
 I laugh at thofc, who, when the ftage they tread, 
 
 Negled the heart, to compliment the head ; 
 
 With ftricl- propriety their care's confin'd 
 
 To wcio:h out words, while palTion halts behind. 
 
 To Syllable diiTeclors they appeal, 
 
 Allow them accent, cadence, — Fools may feel; 
 
 But Spite of all the criticifino; elves, 
 
 Thofe who would make us feel, muft feel themfelves. 
 
 His eyes, in gloomy focket taught to roll, 
 Proclaimed the fullen habit of his foul. 
 Heavy and phlegmatic he trod the ftage, 
 Too proud for Tendernefs, too dull for Rage. 
 When Hedor's lovely widow fliines in Tears, 
 Or Rowe's gay Rake dependant Virtue jeers, 
 With the fame caft of features he is feen 
 To chide the Libertine and court the Queen. 
 From the tame fcene, which without paffion flows, 
 With juft defert his reputation rofe. 
 Nor lefs he pleas'd, when, on fome furly plan. 
 He was, at once, the A6lor and the Man, 
 
 In
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 47 
 
 In Brute he flione unequaird : all agree 
 Garrick's not half fo great a brute as he. 
 When Cato's labour'd fcenes are brought to view, 
 With equal praife the A6lor labour'd too, 
 For ftill you'll jfind, trace paflions to their root, 
 Small diff'rence 'twixt the Stoic and the Brute. 
 In fancied fcenes, as in life's real plan. 
 He could not, for a moment, fink the Man. 
 In whate'er call: his charader was laid. 
 Self flill, like oil, upon the furface play'd. 
 Nature, in fpite of all his fkill, crept in: 
 Horatio, Dorax, Falftaff, — ftill 'twas Quin. 
 
 Next follows Sheridan. — A doubtful name. 
 As yet unfettled in the rank of fame. 
 This, fondly lavifh in his praifes grown, 
 Gives him all merit: That allows him none. 
 Between them both, we'll fteer the middle courfc, 
 Nor, loving praife, rob judgment of her force. 
 
 Juft his conceptions, natural and great : 
 His feelings ftrong, his words enforc'd with wciglit. 
 Was fpeech-fam'd Quin himfelf to hear him fpeak. 
 Envy would drive the colour from his cheek : 
 
 But
 
 48 T H E R O S C I A D. 
 
 But ftep-dame Nature, niggard of her grace, 
 Deny'd the fecial pow'rs of voice and face, 
 Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye, 
 Paflions, like chaos, in confufion lie : 
 In vain the wonders of his fkill are try'd 
 To form diflindion Nature hath deny'd. 
 His voice no touch of harmony admits, 
 Irregularly deep, and fhrill by fits : 
 The two extremes appear like man and wife. 
 Coupled together for the fake of ftrife. 
 
 His anion's always ftrong, but fometimes fuch 
 That Candour muft declare he acls too much. 
 Why muft impatience fall three paces back ? 
 Why paces three return to the attack? 
 Why is the right leg too forbid to ftir, 
 Unlefs in motion fcmicircular ? 
 Why muft the hero with the Nailor vie. 
 And hurl the clofe-clench'd fift at nofe or eye ? 
 In royal John, with Philip angry grown, 
 I thought he v/ould have knock'd poor Davies down. 
 Inhuman tyrant ! was it not a fhame. 
 To fright a king fo harmlefs and fo tame? 
 
 But,
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 49 
 
 But, fpite of all defects, his glories rife ; 
 And Art, by Judgment form'd, with Nature vies 
 Behold him found the depth of Hubert's foul, 
 Whilft in his own contending paffions roll. 
 View the whole fcene, with critic judgment fcan. 
 And then deny him Merit if you can. 
 Where he falls fhort, 'tis Nature's fault alone ; 
 Where he fucceeds, the Merit's all his own. 
 
 Lafl: Garrick came. — Behind him throng a train 
 Of fnarling critics, ignorant as vain. 
 
 One finds out, — ^^ He's of ftature fomewhat low, — 
 " Your Hero always fhould be tall you know. — 
 *' True nat'ral greatnefs all confifts in height." 
 Produce your voucher, Critic. — *' Sergeant Kvtf.'* 
 
 Another can't forgive the paltry arts, 
 By which he makes his way to fhallow hearts ; 
 Mere pieces of finefle, traps for applaufe. — 
 '' Avaunt, unnat'ral ftart, affedled paufe." 
 
 For me, by Nature form'd to judge with phlegm, 
 I can't acquit by wholefile, nor condemn. 
 
 H The
 
 50 T H E R O S C I A D. 
 
 The beft things carried to excefs are wrong : 
 The ftart my be too frequent, paufe too long ; 
 But, only us'd in proper time and place, 
 Severcft judgment muft allow them Grace. 
 
 If Bunglers, form'd on Imitation's plan, 
 Juft in the way that monkies mimic man, 
 Their copied fcene with mangled arts difgrace, 
 And paufe and ftart with the fame vacant face ; 
 We join the critic laugh ; thofe tricks we fcorn, 
 Which fpoil the fcenes they mean them to adorn. 
 
 But when, from Nature's pure and genuine fource, 
 Thefe ftrokes of Adling flow with gen'rous force, 
 W^hcn in the features all the foul's portray 'd, 
 And paflions, fuch as Garrick's are difplay'd. 
 To me they feem from quickeft feelings caught : 
 Each ftart is Nature ; and each paufe is Thought. 
 
 When Reafon yields to Pafiion's wild alarms, 
 And the whole ftate of man is up in arms ; 
 What, but a Critic, could condemn the Play'r, 
 For pauiing here, when Cool Senfe paufes there? 
 
 Whilft,
 
 THE ROSCIAD. 51 
 
 Whilft, working from the Heart, the fire I trace, 
 And mark it ftrongly flaming to the Face ; 
 Whilft, in each found, I hear the very man ; 
 I can't catch words, and pity thofe who can. 
 
 Let wits, hke fpiders, from the tortur'd brain 
 Fine-draw the critic-web with curious pain ; 
 The gods, — a kindnefs I with thanks muft pay, — - 
 Have form'd me of a coarfer kind of clay ; 
 Nor ftung with envy, nor with Spleen difeas'd, 
 A poor dull creature, ftill with Nature pleas'd ; 
 Hence to thy praifes, Garrick, I agree, 
 And, pleas'd with Nature, muft be pleas'd with Thee. 
 
 Now might I tell, how filence reign'd throughout. 
 And deep attention hufti'd the rabble rout : 
 How ev'ry claimant, tortur'd with defire. 
 Was pale as afhes, or as red as fire : 
 But, loofe to Fame, the mufe more fimply adls, 
 Rejeds all flourifh, and relates mere fads. 
 
 The judges, as the fev'ral parties came, 
 With temper heard, with Judgment weighed each Claim, 
 
 H 2 And
 
 52 THE ROSCIAD. 
 
 And in their fentence happily agreed, 
 
 In name of both. Great Shakespeare thus decreed: 
 
 *' If manly Senfe ; if Nature link'd with Art; 
 
 If thorough knowledge of the Human Heart; 
 
 If PowVs of adling vaft and unconfin'd ; 
 
 If feweft Faults, with greateft Beauties join'd; 
 
 If ftrong Expreffion, and ftrange Pow'rs, which lie 
 
 Within the magic circle of the Eye ; 
 
 If feelings which few hearts, like his, can know, 
 
 And which no face fo well as His can fhow ; 
 
 Deferve the Preference; — Garrick take the Chair; 
 
 Nor quit it — 'till Thou place an Equal there." 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 APOLOGY.
 
 THE 
 
 APOLOGY. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE 
 
 CRITICAL REVIEWERS. 
 
 LAUGHS not the heart, when Giants, big with pride, 
 Afliime the pompous port, the martial ftride; 
 O'er arm Herculean heave th' enormous fhield, 
 Vaft as a weaver's beam the javeHn wield ; 
 With the loud voice of thund'ring Jove defy, 
 And dare to fmgle combat — What? — A Fly. 
 
 And
 
 56 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 And laugh we lefs, when Giant names, which fhine 
 EftabHfh'd, as it were, by right divine \ 
 CRITICS, whom evVy captive art adores. 
 To whom glad Science pours forth all her ftores ; 
 Who high in letter'd reputation fit. 
 And hold, Astr.ea like, the fcales of Wit ; 
 With partial rage rufti forth, — Oh ! fhame to tell ! 
 To crufh a bard jufi: burfting from the fliell ? 
 
 Great are his perils in this ftormy time 
 Who rafhly v^entures on a fea of Rime. 
 Around vafl furires roll, winds envious blow. 
 And jealous rocks and quickfands lurk below, 
 Greatly his foes he dreads, but more his friends ; 
 He hurts me mofl: who lavifhly commends. 
 
 Look thro' the world — in evVy other trade 
 The fame employment's caufe of kindnefs made ; 
 At leaft appearance of good will creates ; 
 And ev'ry fool puffs off the fool he hates : 
 Coblers with coblers fmoke away the night, 
 And in the com.mon caufe e'en Play'rs unite. 
 Authors alone, with more than favage rage^ 
 Unnat'ral war with brother authors wage. 
 
 The
 
 THE APOLOGY. 57 
 
 The pride of Nature would as foou admit 
 Competitors in empire as in wit : 
 Onward they rufh at Fame's imperious call. 
 And, lefs than greateft, would not be at all. 
 
 Smit with the love of Honour, — or the Pence, 
 O'er-run with wit, and deftitute of fenfe, 
 If any novice in the riming trade. 
 With lawlefs pen the realms of verfe invade ; 
 Forth from the court, where fccpter'd figes fit, 
 Abus'd with praife, and flatter'd into wit ; 
 Where in lethargic majefty they reign, 
 And what they won by dullnefs ftill maintain ; 
 Legions of fadious authors throng at once ; 
 Fool beckons fool, and dunce awakens dunce. 
 To Hamilton's the Ready Lies repair; — 
 Ne'er was Lye made which was not welcome there. — 
 Thence, on maturer judgment's anvil wrought. 
 The polifh'd falfhood's into public brought. 
 Quick circulating flanders mirth afibrd. 
 And reputation bleeds in ev'ry word. 
 
 A Critic was of old a glorious name, 
 
 Whofe fandion handed merit up to fame i 
 
 I Beauties
 
 58 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 Beauties as well as faults he brought to view : 
 His Judgment great, and great his Candour too. 
 No fervile rules drew fickly tafte afide ; 
 Secure he walk'd, for Nature was his guide. 
 But now, Oh ftrange reverfe ! our Critics bawl 
 In praife of Candour with a Heart of Gall. 
 Confcious of guilt, and fearful of the light. 
 They lurk enflirouded in the veil of night : 
 Safe from detedion, feize th' unwary prey, 
 And ftab, like bravoes, all who come that way. 
 
 When firft my mufe, perhaps more bold than wile, 
 Bad the rude trifle into light arife, 
 Little fhe thought fuch tempefts would enfue, 
 Lefs, that thofe tempefts would be raised by you. 
 The thunder's fury rends the tow 'ring oak, 
 RosciADs, like fhrubs, might Tcape the fatal ftroke. 
 Vain thought ! a Critic's fury knows no bound ; 
 Drawcansir like, he deals deftrudlion round; 
 Nor can we hope he will a ftranger fpare, 
 "Who gives no quarter to his friend Voltaire. 
 
 Unhappy Genius ! plac'd by partial Fate 
 With a free fpirit in a flavifh ftate ; 
 
 Where
 
 THE APOLOGY. 59 
 
 Where the reludant Mufe, opprefs'd by kings, 
 
 Or droops in filence, or in fetters lings. 
 
 In vain thy dauntlefs fortitude hath borne 
 
 The bigot's furious zeal, and tyrant's fcorn. 
 
 Why did ft thou fafe from home-bred dangers fteer, 
 
 Referv'd to perifh more ignobly here? 
 
 Thus, when the JuHan Tyrant's pride to fwell 
 
 Rome with her Pompey at PharfaHa fell. 
 
 The vanquifh'd chief efcap'd from Cesar's hand 
 
 To die by ruffians in a foreign land. 
 
 How could thefe felf-eleded moaarchs raife 
 So large an empire on fo fmall a bafe ? 
 In what retreat, inglorious and unknown. 
 Did Genius fleep when Dullnefs feiz'd the throne ? 
 Whence abfolute now grown, and free from awe, 
 She to the fubjed world difpenfes law. 
 Without her licence, not a letter ftirs ; 
 And all the captive crifs-crofs-row is hers. 
 The Stagyrite, who rules from Nature drew, 
 Opinions gave, but gave his reafons too. 
 Our great Dictators take a fhorter way — 
 Who Ihall difpute what the Reviewers fay ? 
 
 I 2 Their
 
 6o THE APOLOGY. 
 
 Their word's fufficient ; and to afk a reafon, 
 
 In fuch a ftate as theirs, is downright treafon. 
 
 True judgment now with Them alone can dwell ; 
 
 Like church of Rome, they're grown infallible. 
 
 Dull fuperftitious readers they deceive, *] 
 
 Who pin their eafy faith on critic's fleeve, \- 
 
 And, knowing nothing, ev'ry thing believe ! j 
 
 But why repine we, that thefe Puny Elves 
 
 Shoot into Giants? — We may thank ourfelves; 
 
 Fools that we are, like Ifrael's fools of yore, 
 
 The Calf ourfelves have fafhion'd we adore. 
 
 But let true Reafon once refume her reign. 
 
 This God (hall dwindle to a Calf again. 
 
 Founded on arts which fhun the face of day. 
 By the fame arts they ftill maintain their fway. 
 Wrapp'd in myfterious fecrecy they rife. 
 And, as they are unknown, are fafe and wife. 
 At whomfoever aim'd, howe'er fevere 
 Th' envenomed flander Hiesy no names appear. 
 Prudence forbid that ftcp. — Then all might know^ 
 And on more equal terms engage the foe. 
 But now, what Quixote of the age would care 
 To vyage a war with dirt, and fight with air ? 
 
 By
 
 THE APOLOGY. 6i 
 
 By int'reft join'd, th' expert confed'rates ftand, 
 And play the game into each others hand. 
 The vile abufe, in turn by all deny'd, 
 Is bandy'd up and down from {ide to fide ; 
 It flies — hey! — prefto ! — like a jugler's ball, 
 'Till it belongs to nobody at alL 
 
 All men and things they know, themfelves unknown. 
 And publifh ev'ry name — except their own. 
 Nor think this ftrange — fecure from vulgar eyes 
 The namelefs author pafTes in difguife. 
 But vet'ran critics are not fo deceiv'd. 
 If vet'ran critics are to be believ'd^ 
 Once feen, they know an author evermore. 
 Nay fwear to hands they never faw before. 
 Thus in the Rosciad, beyond chance or doubt. 
 They, by the writing, found the writers out. 
 *' That's Lloyd's — his manner there you plainly trace, 
 " And all the Actor flares you in the face. 
 " By CoLMAN that was written. — On my life, 
 " The ftrongeft fymptoms of the Jealous Wife, 
 " That little difingenuous piece of fpite, 
 " Churchill, a wretch unknown, perhaps might write." 
 
 How
 
 62 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 How doth it make judicious readers fmile, 
 When authors are deteded by their ftile : 
 Tho' ev'ry one who knows this author, knows 
 He fhifts his ftile much oftner than his cloaths? 
 
 Whence could arife this mighty critic fpleen, 
 The Mufe a trifler, and her theme fo mean ? 
 What had I done, that angry Heaven fliould fend 
 The bitt'reft Foe where moft I wifh'd a Friend? 
 Oft hath my tongue been wanton at thy name, 
 And hail'd the honours of thy matchlefs fame. 
 For me let hoary Fielding bite the ground 
 So nobler Pickle ftand fuperbly bound. 
 From Livy's temples tear th' hiftoric crown, 
 Which with more juftice blooms upon thine own. 
 Compar'd with thee, be all life- writers dumb, 
 But he who wrote the Life of Tommy Thumb. 
 Who ever read the Regicide, but fwore 
 The author wrote as man ne'er wrote before? 
 Others for plots and under-plots may call. 
 Here's the right method — have no plot at all. 
 Who can fo often in his caufe engage 
 The tiny Pathos of the Grecian ftage, 
 
 Whilft
 
 THE APOLOGY. 6^ 
 
 Whilft horrors rife, and tears fpontaneous flow 
 At tragic Ha ! and no lefs tragic Oh ! ? 
 To praife his nervous weakness all agree; 
 And then, for fweetnefs, who fo fweet as he? 
 Too big for utterance when forrows fwell 
 The too big forrows flowing tears muft tell : 
 But when thofe flowing tears fhall ceafe to flow, 
 Why — then the voice mufl: fpeak again you know. 
 
 ' Rude and unfkilful in the Poet's trade, 
 I kept no Naiads by me ready-made; 
 Ne'er did I colours high in air advance, 
 Torn from the bleeding fopperies of France; 
 No flimfey linfey-woolfey fcenes I wrote. 
 With patches here and there like Jofeph's coat. 
 Me humbler themes beht : Secure, for me, 
 Let Playwrights fmuggle nonfenfe duty free: 
 Secure, for me, ye lambs, ye lambkins bound. 
 And frifk and frolic o'er the fairy ground : 
 Secure, for me, thou pretty little fawn 
 Lick Sylvia's hand, and crop the flow'ry lawn: 
 Uncenfur'd let the gentle breezes rove. 
 Thro' the green umbrage of th' enchanted grove ; 
 
 Secure,
 
 64 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 Secure, for me, let foppifli Nature fmile, 
 And play the coxcomb in the Desart Isle- 
 
 The flage I chofe — a fubjedl fair and free — 
 'Tis yours — 'tis mine — 'tis Public Property. 
 All Common Exhibitions open lie 
 For Praife or Cenfure to the Common Eye. 
 Hence are a thoufand Hackney-writers fed ; 
 Hence Monthly Critics earn their Daily- Bread. 
 This is a gen'ral tax which all muft pay, 
 From thofe who fcribble, down to thofe who play. 
 A6lors, a venal crew, receive fupport 
 From public bounty, for the public fport. 
 To clap or hifs, all have an equal claim, 
 The cobler's and his lordfhip's right the fame. 
 All join for their fubfiftence ; all expect 
 Free leave to praife their worth, their faults corredl. 
 When adlivc Pickle Smithfield ftage afcends. 
 The three days wonder of his laughing friends ; 
 Each, or as judgment, or as fancy guides, 
 The lively witling praifes or derides. 
 And where' s the mighty diff'rence, tell me where, 
 Betwixt a Merry Andrew and a Play'r ? 
 
 The
 
 THE APOLOGY. 65 
 
 The ftrolling tribe, a defpicable race, 
 Like wand'ring Arabs, fLift from place to place. 
 Vagrants by law, to Juftice open laid, 
 They tremble, of the beadle's lafh afraid. 
 And fawning cringe, for wretched means of life, 
 To Madam May'refs, or his Worfhip's Wife. 
 
 The mighty monarch, in theatric fack, 
 Carries his whole regalia at his back. 
 His royal confort heads the female band, 
 And leads the heir-apparent in her hand ; 
 The pannier'd afs creeps on with confcious pride. 
 Bearing a future prince on either fide. 
 No choice mulicians in this troop are found 
 To varnifh nonfenfe with the charms of found ; 
 No fwords, no daggers, not one poifon'd bowl ; 
 No lightning flafhes here, no thunders roll ; 
 No guards to fwell the monarch's train are fhown ; 
 The monarch here muft be a hoft alone. 
 No folemn pomp, no flow proceflion's here ; 
 No Ammon's entry, and no Juliet's bier. 
 
 By need compell'd to proftitute his art. 
 The varied ador flies from part to part ; 
 
 K And,
 
 66 THE APOLOGY, 
 
 And, ftrange difgrace to all theatric pride ! 
 His charadler is fhifted with his fide. 
 QuePcion and Anfwer he by turns muft be, 
 Like that fmall wit in Modern Tragedy ; 
 Who, to fupport his fame, — or fill his purfe, — , 
 Still pilfers wretched plans, and makes them worfe ; 
 Like gypfies, left the ftolen brat be known, 
 Defacing firft, then claiming for his own. 
 In fliabby ftate they ftrut, and tatter'd robe ; 
 The fcene a blanket, and a barn the globe. 
 No hi^h conceits their mod'rate wifhes raife. 
 Content with humble profit, humble praife. 
 Let dowdies fimper, and let bumpkins ftare, 
 The ftrolling pageant hero treads in air: 
 Pleas'd for his hour, he to mankind gives law, 
 And fnores the next out on a trufs of ftraw. 
 
 But if kind Fortune, who we fometimes know 
 Can take a hero from a puppet- fhow. 
 In mood propitious fhould her favVite call. 
 On royal ftage in royal pomp to bawl, 
 Forgetful of himfelf he rears the head. 
 And fcorns the dunghill where he firft was bred : 
 
 Converfing
 
 THE APOLOGY. 67 
 
 Converfmg now with well-drefs'd kings and queens, 
 With g£)ds and goddeffes behind the fcenes, 
 He^fweats beneath the terror-nodding plume. 
 Taught by Mock Honours Real Pride t'affume. 
 On this great ftage, the World, no Monarch e'er 
 Was half fo haughty as a Monarch-Play 'r. 
 
 Doth it more move our anger or our mirth 
 To fee thefe Things, the loweft fons of earth, 
 Prefume, with felf-fufficient knowledge grac'd. 
 To rule in Letters, and prelide in Tafte? 
 The Town's decifions they no more admit, 
 Themfelves alone the Arbiters of Wit; 
 And fcorn the jurifdidion of that Court, 
 To which they owe their being and fnpport. 
 A6lors, like monks of old, now facred grown, 
 Muft be attack'd by no fools but their own. 
 
 Let the Vain Tyrant fit amidft his guards. 
 His puny Green-room Wits and Venal Bards, 
 Who meanly tremble at the Puppet's frown. 
 And for a Playhoufe Freedom lofe their own; 
 In fpite of new-made Laws, and new-made Kings, 
 The free-born Mufe with lib'ral fpirit fings. 
 
 K 2 Bow
 
 68 THE APOLOGY 
 
 Bow down, ye Slaves ; before thefe Idols fall ; 
 Let Genius ftoop to them who've none at all ; 
 Ne'er will I flatter, cringe, or bend the knee 
 To thofe who, Slaves to All, are Slaves to Me. 
 
 Adlors, as A6lors, are a lawful game ; 
 The poet's right ; and Who fhall bar his claim ? 
 And if, o'er-weening of their little fkill, 
 When they have left the Stage, they're A6tors flill ; 
 If to the fubjed: world they ftill give laws, 
 With paper crowns, and fceptres made of flraws ; 
 If they in cellar or in garret roar, 
 And Kings one night, are Kings for evermore; 
 Shall not bold Truth, e'en there, purfue her theme, 
 And wake the Coxcomb from his golden dream? 
 Or if well worthy of a better fate. 
 They rife fuperior to their prefcnt ftate ; 
 If, with each fecial virtue grac'd, they blend 
 The gay companion and the faithful friend : 
 If they, like Prit chard, join in private life 
 The tender parent and the virtuous wife ; 
 Shall not our Verfe their praife with pleafure fpeak. 
 Though Mimics bark, and Envy fplit her cheek ? 
 
 No
 
 THE APOLOGY. 69 
 
 No honeft worth's beneath the Mufe's praife; 
 No greatnefs can above her cenfure raife : 
 Station and wealth, to Her, are trifling things 5 
 She ftoops to Adors, and fhe foars to Kings. 
 
 Is there a man, in vice and folly bred. 
 To fenfe of honour as to virtue dead ; 
 Whom ties nor human, nor divine, can bi-nd ;. 
 Alien to God, and foe to all mankind; 
 Who fpares no charader ; whofe ev'ry word, 
 Bitter as gall, and fharper than the fword. 
 Cuts to the quick y whofe thoughts with rancour fwell :. 
 Whofe tongue, on earth, performs the worlv of Hell ? 
 If there be fuch a monfter, the Reviews 
 Shall find him holding forth againft Abufe. 
 « Attack ProfeffionJ — 'tis a deadly breach! — 
 «« The Chriftian laws another leflbn teach : — 
 " Unto the End (hould charity endure, 
 «' And candour hide thefe faults it cannot cure." 
 Thus Candour's maxims flow from Rancour's throaty. 
 As devils, to ferve their purpofe, Scripture quote.. 
 
 The Mufe's office was by Heaven defign d, 
 To pleafe, improve, inftrud, reform mankind ^^ 
 
 To
 
 70 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 To make dejeded Virtue nobly rife 
 
 Above the tow 'ring pitch of fplendid Vice ; 
 
 To make pale Vice, abafh'd, her head hang down, 
 
 And tremblino: crouch at Virtue's awful frown. 
 
 Now arm'd with wrath, flie bids eternal fliame. 
 
 With ftridcfl: juftice, brand the villain s name : 
 
 Now in the milder garb of Ridicule 
 
 She fports, and pleafes while flie wounds the Fool. 
 
 Her fhape is often varied ; but her aim, 
 
 To prop the caufe of Virtue, ftill the fame. 
 
 In praifc of Mercy let the guilty bawl, 
 
 When Vice and Folly for Correction call, 
 
 Silence the mark of weaknefs juftly bears, 
 
 And is partaker of the crimes it fpares. 
 
 But if the Mufe, too cruel in her mirth. 
 With harlK refledlions wounds the man of worth 
 If wantonly fhe deviates from her plan. 
 And quits the Ador to expofe the Man ; 
 Afliam'd, fhe marks that paflage with a blot, 
 And hates the line where Candour was forgot. 
 
 But what is Candour, what is Humour's vein, 
 Tho' Judgment join to confecrate the ftrain, 
 
 If
 
 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 If curious numbers will not aid afford. 
 
 Nor choiceft mufic play in ev'ry word ? 
 
 Verfes muft run, to charm a modern ear, 
 
 From all harfli, rugged interruptions clear : 
 
 Soft let them breathe, as Zephyr's balmy breeze ; 
 
 Smooth let their current flow as fummer feas ; 
 
 Perfedl then only deem'd when they difpenfe 
 
 A happy tuneful vacancy of fenfe. 
 
 Italian fathers thus, with barb'rous rage, 
 
 Fit helplefs infants for the fqueaking ftage ; 
 
 Deaf to the calls of pity. Nature wound, 
 
 And mangle vigour for the fake of found. 
 
 Henceforth farewell then fev'rifh thirft of fame ^ 
 
 Farewell the longings for a Poet's name ; 
 
 Perifh my Mufe; — a wifh 'bove all fevere 
 
 To him who ever held the Mufes dear, 
 
 If e'er her labours weaken to refine 
 
 The gen'rous roughnefs of a nervous line. — 
 
 Others affedl the ftiff and fwelling phrafe ; » 
 Their Mufe muft walk in ftilts, and ftrut in flays ; 
 The fenfe they murder, and the words tranfpofe, 
 Left Poetry approach too near to Profc. 
 
 See,
 
 72 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 See tortur'd Reafon how they pare and trim, 
 And, like Procruftes, ftretch or lop the Hmb. 
 
 Waller, whofe praife fucceeding bards rehearfe, 
 Parent of harmony in Englifh verfe, 
 Whofe tuneful Mufe in fweetefl: accents flows, 
 In couplets firft taught ftraggling fenfe to clofe. ' 
 
 In polifhM numbers, and majeftic found, 
 Where fhall thy rival, Pope, be ever found? 
 But whilfl each line with equal beauty flows, 
 E'en excellence, unvaried, tedious grows. 
 Nature, thro' all her works, in great degree, 
 Borrows a blefling from Variety. 
 Muflc itfelf her needful aid requires 
 To rouze the foul, and wake our dying fires. 
 Still in one key, the Nightengale would teize: 
 Still in one key, not Brent would always pleafe. 
 
 Here let me bend, great Dryden, at thy fhrine, 
 Thou deareft name to all the tuneful nine. 
 What if fome dull Lines in cold order creep, 
 And with his theme the poet feems to fleep ? 
 
 Still
 
 / 
 
 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 Still when his fubjedl iiies proud to view, 
 With equal ftrength vKl poets rifes too. 
 With ftrong invention, nobleft vigour fraught, 
 Thc'ght ftiil fprings up and rifes out of thought; 
 Nuinbers ennobUng numbers in their courfe. 
 In varied fweetnefs flow, in varied force ; 
 The pow'rs of Genius and of Judgment join, 
 And the whole Art of Poetry is Thine. 
 
 But what are Numbers, what are Bards to me. 
 Forbid to tread the paths of Poefy ? 
 " A facred Mufe ftiould confecrate her fen ; 
 ^' Priefts muft not hear nor fee like other Men ; 
 *' Far higher themes fhould her ambition claim ; 
 ** Behold where Sternhold points the way to Fame." 
 
 Whilfl, with miftaken zeal dull bigots burn, 
 Let Reafon for a moment take her turn. 
 When Coftee-fages hold difcourfe with kings. 
 And bhndly walk in Paper Lenjiing-ftrings, 
 What if a man delight to pafs his time 
 In fpinning Reafon into harmlefs Rime ; 
 Or fometimes boldly venture to the Play? 
 Say, Where's the Crime? — great Man of Prudence, fay? 
 
 L No
 
 74 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 No two on earth ia one thing can agree, 
 
 All have fomc darling fingularity. 
 
 Women and men, as well as girls and boys, 
 
 In Gew-gaws take delight, and Ugh for toys. 
 
 Your fcepters, and your crowns, and fuch Hke things, 
 
 Are but a better kind of toys for kings. 
 
 In things indiff'rent Reafon bids us chufe. 
 
 Whether the whim's a Monkey or a Muse. 
 
 What the grave triflers on this bufy fcene, 
 AVhen they make ufe of this word Reason, mean, 
 I know not; hut according to my plan, 
 'Tis Lord-chief-justice in the Court of Man, 
 Equally form'd to rule in age and youth, 
 The Friend of Virtue and the Guide to Truth. 
 To Her I bow, whofe facred power I feel; 
 To Her decifion make my laft appeal ; 
 Condemn'd by Her, applauding worlds in vain 
 Should tempt me to take up the Pen again : 
 By Her abfolv'd, my courfe Ell flill purfue : 
 If Reason's for me, GOD is for mc too. 
 
 NIGHT.
 
 N I G H T. 
 
 A N 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 T O 
 
 ROBERT LLOY 
 
 L 2
 
 NIGHT. 
 
 WHEN foes infult, and prudent friends difpenfc, 
 In pity's ftrains, the worft of infolence, 
 Oft with thee, Lloyd, I fteal an hour from grief, 
 And in thy focial converfe find relief. 
 The mind, of folitude impatient grown. 
 Loves any forrows rather than her own. 
 
 Let ilaves to biifinefs, bodies without foul, 
 Important blanks in Nature's mighty roll. 
 Solemnize nonfenfe in the day's broad glare, 
 We Night prefer, which heals or hides our care. 
 
 Rogues juftified, and by fuccefs made bold, 
 Dull fools and coxcombs fandified by Gold, 
 
 Freely
 
 78 NIGHT. 
 
 Freely may bafk in Fortune's partial ray, 
 And fpread their feathers op'ning to the day ; 
 But thread-bare Merit dares not fliew the head 
 'Till vain Profperity retires to bed. 
 Misfortunes, like the Owl, avoid the light ; 
 The fons of Care are always fons of Night. 
 
 The Wretch bred up in Method's drowfy fchool, 
 Whofe merit only is to err by rule. 
 Who ne'er thro' heat of blood was tripping caught. 
 Nor guilty deem'd of one eccentric thought, 
 Whofe foul direded to no ufe is feen, 
 Unlefs to move the body's dull Machine ; 
 Which, clock-work like, with the fame equal pace, 
 Still travels on thro' life's infipid fpace. 
 Turns up his eyes to tliink that there fhould be 
 Among God's creatures two fuch things as we. 
 Then for his night-cap calls, and thanks the pow'rs 
 Which kindly gave him grace to keep good hours. 
 
 Good hours — Fine words — but was it ever feen 
 That all Men could agree in what they mean ? 
 Florid, who many years a courfe hath run 
 In downright oppofition to the fun, 
 
 EA'patiatcs
 
 NIGH T. 
 
 Expatiates on good hoursy their caufe defends 
 With as much vigour as our Prudent Friends. 
 Th' uncertain term no fettled notion brings, 
 But ftill in different mouths means diff 'rent things.- 
 Each takes the phrafe in his own private view. 
 With Prudence it is ten, with Florio two,. 
 
 Go on, ye fools, who talk for talking (ake,- 
 Without diftinguifhing diftindlions make ; 
 Shine forth in native folly, native pride. 
 Make yourfelves rules to all the world befide 'y^ 
 Reafon, colleded in herfelf, difdains 
 The flavifh yoke of arbitrary chains, 
 Steady and true each circumftance fhe weighs. 
 Nor to bare words inglorious tribute pays. 
 Men of fenfe live exempt from vulgar awe, 
 And Reafon to herfelf alone is law. 
 That freedom fhe enjoys with lib'ral mind, 
 Which fhe as freely grants to all mankind. 
 No idol titled name her reverence flirs. 
 No hour fhe blindly to the reft preferj, 
 All are alike if they re alike employ 'd, 
 And all are good it viriuoujly enjoy'd. 
 
 79 
 
 Let
 
 So NIGHT. 
 
 Let the fage Doctor (think him one we know) 
 With fcraps of ancient learning overflow, 
 In all the dignity of wig declare 
 The fatal confequence of midnight air, 
 How damps and vapours, as it were by ftealth, 
 Undermine life, and fap the walls of health. 
 For me let Galen moulder on the fhelf, 
 I'll live, and be phyfician to myfelf. 
 Whilft foul is join'd to body, whether fate 
 Allot a longer or a fhorter date ; 
 I'll make them live, as brother fhould with brother, 
 And keep them in good humour with each other. 
 
 The fureft road to health, fay what they will, 
 Is never to fuppofe we fhall be ill. 
 Moft of thofe evils we poor mortals know 
 From dodors and imagination flow. 
 Hence to old women with your boafled rules, 
 Stale traps, and only facred now to fools ; 
 As well may fons of phyfic hope to find 
 One med'cine, as one hour, for all mankind. 
 
 If Rupert after ten is out of bed 
 The Fool next morning can't hold up his head, 
 
 What
 
 NIGHT. 8i 
 
 What reafon this which me to bed muft call 
 Whofe head (thank heav'n) never aches at all? 
 In diff'rent courfes different tempers run, 
 He hates the Moon, I licken at the Sun. 
 Wound up at twelve at noon, his clock goes right, 
 Mine better goes, wound up at twelve at night. 
 
 Then in Oblivion's grateful cup I drown 
 The galling fneer, the fupercilious frown, 
 The ftrange refcrve, the proud afFe6led ftate 
 Of upftart knaves grown rich, and fools grown great. 
 No more that abje6l wretch difturbs my reft, 
 Who meanly overlooks a friend diftreft. 
 Purblind to Poverty the Worlding goes. 
 And fcarce fees rags an inch beyond his nofe ; 
 But from a crowd can fingle out his grace, 
 And cringe and creep to fools who ftrut in lace. 
 
 Whether thofe claflic regions are furvey'd 
 Where we in earlieft youth together ftray'd. 
 Where hand in hand we trod the flowVy fhorc, 
 Tho' now thy happier genius runs before, 
 When we confpir'd a thanklefs wretch to raifc. 
 And taught a JltiPtp to fhoot with pilfer 'd praife, 
 
 M ^ Who
 
 82 NIGHT. 
 
 Who once for Rev rend merit famous grown, 
 Gratefully ftrove to kick his Maker down, 
 Or if more gen'ral arguments engage, 
 The court or camp^ the pulpit, bar or iflage ; 
 If half-bred furgeons, whom men dodors call, 
 And lawyers, who were never bred at all, 
 Thofe mighty-letter'd monfters of the earth. 
 Our pity move, or exercife our mirth; 
 Or if in tittle-tattle, tooth-pick way. 
 Our rambling thoughts with eafy freedom ftray; 
 A gainer ftill thy friend himfelf muft find. 
 His grief fufpended, and improved his mind. 
 
 Whilfl: peaceful il umbers blefs the homely bed, 
 Where virtue, felf-approv'd, reclines her head ; 
 Whilft vice beneath imagined horrors mourns. 
 And confcience plants the villian's couch with thorns. 
 Impatient of reftraint, the adlive mind. 
 No more by fervile prejudice confin'd. 
 Leaps from her feat, as wak'ned from a trance. 
 And darts through Nature at a fingle glance. 
 Then we our friends, our foes, ourfelves, furvey, 
 And fee by Night what fools we are by Day. 
 
 Stript
 
 NIGHT. 83 
 
 Stript of her gawdy plumes and vain difguife, 
 See ^^here ambition mean and loathfome lies 1 
 Reflt^.non with relentlefs hand pulls down 
 The tyi'int's bloody wreath and ravifh'd crown. 
 In vain he tells of battles bravely won, 
 Of nations conquer'd, and of worlds undone : 
 Triumphs like thefe but ill with manhood fuit, 
 And fink the conqueror beneath the brute. 
 But if, in fearching round the world, we find 
 Some genVous youth, the friend of all mankind, 
 Whofe anger, like the bolt of Jove, is fped 
 In terrors only at the guilty head, 
 Whofe mercies, like Heav'n's dew, refrefhing fall 
 In gen'ral love and charity to all, 
 Pleas'd we behold fuch worth on any throne, 
 And doubly pleas'd we find it on our own. 
 
 Through a falfe medium things are fliewn by day, 
 Pomp, wealth, and tides, judgment lead aftray. 
 How many from appearance borrow ftate, 
 Whom Night difdains to number with the Great ! 
 Muft not we laugh to fee yon lo7'dlhig proud 
 Snufi- up vile incenfe from a fawning crowd ? 
 
 M 2 Whilft,
 
 84 NIGHT. 
 
 Whilft in his beam furrounding clients play, 
 
 Like infedls in the fun's enliv'ning ray, 
 
 Whilft, Jehu like, he drives at furious rate, 
 
 And feems the only charioteer of ftate. 
 
 Talking himfelf into a little God, 
 
 And ruling empires v/ith a fingle nod ; 
 
 Who would not think, to hear him law difpenfe, 
 
 That he had int'reft, and that they had fenfe? 
 
 Injurious thought ! beneath Night's honeft fhade 
 
 When pomp is buried and falfe colours fade, 
 
 Plainly we fee at that impartial hour 
 
 Than dupes to pride, and him the tool of pow'r. 
 
 God help the man, condemn'd by cruel fate 
 To court the feeming, or the real great. 
 Much forrow fhall he feel, and fuiFer more 
 Than any flave who labours at the oar. 
 By flavifh methods muft he learn to pleafe, 
 By fmooth-tongu'd flatt'ry, that curft court-difeafe^ 
 Supple to ev'ry wayward mood ftrike fail. 
 And fhift with fhifting humour's peevifh gale. 
 To Nature dead he muft adopt vile Art, 
 And wear a fmile, with anguifti in his heart* 
 
 A
 
 NIG H T. 85 
 
 A fenfe of honour would deftroy his fchemes, 
 And confcience ne'er mufi: fpeak unlefs in dreams. 
 When he hath tamely borne, for many years, 
 Cold looks, forbidding frowns, contemptuous fneers. 
 When he at laft cxpeds, good eafy man. 
 To reap the profits of his labour'd plan, 
 Some cringing Lacquey, or rapacious Whore, 
 To favours of the great the fureft door, 
 Some Catamite, or Pimp, in credit grown, 
 Who tempts another's wife, or fells his own. 
 Steps crofs his hopes, the promis'd boon denies, 
 And for fome Minion's Minion claims the prize. 
 
 Foe to reftraint, upradis'd in deceit. 
 Too refolute, from nature's adive heat. 
 To brook affronts, and tamely pafs them by; 
 Too proud to flatter, too fincere to lye, 
 Too plain to pleafe, too honeft to be great ; 
 Give me, kind Heaven, an humbler, happier ftate : 
 Far from the place where men with pride deceive, 
 Where rafcals promife, and where fools believe ; 
 Far from the walk of folly, vice and ftrife. 
 Calm, independent, let me fteal thro' life. 
 
 Nor
 
 86 NIGHT. 
 
 Nor one vain wiQi my fteady thoughts beguile 
 To fear his lordfliip's frown, or court his fmile. 
 Unfit for greatnefs, I her fnares defy, 
 And look on riches with untainted eye. 
 To others let the glitt'ring bawbles fall, 
 Content fhall place us far above them all. 
 
 Spectators only on this buftling ftage, 
 "We fee what vain defigns mankind engage ; 
 Vice after vice with ardour they purfue, 
 And one old folly brings forth twenty new. 
 Perplexed with trifles thro' the vale of life, 
 Man ftrives 'gainft man, without a caufe for ftrife ; 
 Armies embattled meet, and thoufands bleed, 
 For fome vile fpot, which cannot fifty feed. 
 Squirrels for nuts contend, and, wrong or right, 
 For the world's empire kings ambitious fight. 
 What odds? — to us 'tis all the felf-fame thing, 
 A Nut., a World, a Squirrel, and a King. 
 
 Britons, like Roman fpirits fam'd of old. 
 Are caft by nature in a Patriot mould ; 
 No private joy, no private grief they know. 
 Their foul's ingrofs'd by public weal or woe. 
 
 Inglorious
 
 NIGHT. 87 
 
 Inglorious eafe, like ours, they greatly fcorn : 
 Let care with nobler wreaths their brows adorn. 
 Gladly they toil beneath the ftatefman's pains. 
 Give them but credit for a ftatefman's brains. 
 All would be deem'd e'en from the cradle fit 
 To rule in politics as well as wit. 
 The grave, the gay, the fopling, and the dunce^ 
 Start up (God blefs us !) ftatefmen all at once. 
 
 His mighty charge of fouls the prieft forgets, . 
 The court-bred lord his promifes and debts, 
 Soldiers their fame, mifers forget their pelf, 
 The rake his miftrefs, and the fop himfelf ; 
 Whilft thoughts of higher moment claim their care. 
 And their wife heads the weight of kingdoms bear. 
 
 Females themfelves the glorious ardour feel. 
 
 And boaft an equal, or a greater zeal, 
 
 From nymph to nymph the ftate infedlion flies, 
 
 Swells in her breaft, and fparkles in her eyes. 
 
 Overwhelmed by politics lie malice, pride, 
 
 Envy, and twenty other faults befide. 
 
 No more their little fluttering hearts confefs 
 
 A pafllon for applaufe, or rage for dicfs ; 
 
 No
 
 SB NIGH T. 
 
 No more they pant for Public Raree-shows, 
 Or loofe one thought on monkeys or on beaux. 
 Coquettes no more purfue the jilting plan, 
 And luftful prudes forget to rail at man. 
 The darling theme CiECILI A's felf will chufe, 
 -Nor thinks of fcandal whilft fhe talks of news. 
 
 The CIT, a Common-Council-Man by place, 
 Ten thoufand mighty nothings in his face. 
 By Situation as by nature great. 
 With nice precifion parcels out the ftate ; 
 Proves and difproves, affirms, and then denies, 
 Objeds himfelf, and to himfelf replies ; 
 Wielding aloft the Politician rod. 
 Makes Pitt by turns a devil and a god; 
 Maintains, e'en to the very teeth of pow'r, 
 The fame thing right and wrong in half an hour. 
 Now all is well, now he fufpedls a plot, 
 And plainly proves, whatever is, is not. 
 Fearfully wife, he fhakes his empty head. 
 And deals out empires as he deals out thread. 
 His ufelefs fcales are in a corner flung, 
 And Europe's balance hangs upon his tongue. 
 
 Peace
 
 NIGHT. 89 
 
 Peace to fuch triflers, be our happier plan 
 To pafs thro' life as cafy as we can. 
 Who's in or out, who moves this grand machine, 
 . Nor ftirs my curiolity nor fpleen. 
 Secrets of ftate no more I wifh to know 
 Than fecret movements of a Puppet-show; 
 Let but the puppets move, I've my defire, 
 Unfeen the hand which guides the Master-wire. 
 
 What is't to us, if taxes rife or fall. 
 Thanks to our fortune we pay none at all. 
 Let muckworms, who in dirty acres deal. 
 Lament thofe hardfhips which we cannot feel. 
 His Grace, who fmarts, may bellow if he pleafc. 
 But muft I bellow too, who fit at eafe? 
 By cuftom fafe the poet's numbers flow. 
 Free as the light and air fome years ago. 
 No ftatefman e'er will And it worth his pains 
 To tax our labours, and excife our brains. 
 Burthens like thefe vile earthly buildings bear. 
 No tribute's laid on Cafllcs in the Air, 
 
 Let then the flames of war deflrudive rcir;n, 
 And England's terrors awe ini^^^srious Spain; 
 
 N Let
 
 go NIGHT. 
 
 Let evVy ve^al clan and neutral tribe 
 Learn to receive conditions, not prefcribe ; 
 Let each new-year call loud for new fiipplies^. 
 And tax on tax with double burthen rife ; 
 Exempt ic'^ fit, by no rude cares oppreft, 
 And, having: little, are with little bleft. 
 All real ills in dark oblivion lie, 
 And joys, by fancy form'd, their place fupply» 
 Night's laughing hours unheeded flip away. 
 Nor one dull thought foretells approach of Day. 
 
 Thus have we liv'd, and whilft the fates afford 
 Plain Plenty to fupply the frugal board, 
 Whilft Mirth, with Decency his lovely bride. 
 And Wine's gay God, with Temp' range by his fide, 
 Their welcome vifit pay> whilft Health attends 
 The narrow circle of our chofen friends, 
 Whilft frank Good-Humour confecrates the treat. 
 And Woman makes fociety complete, 
 Thus WILL we live, tho' in our teeth are hurl'd 
 Thofe Hackney Stumpets^ Prudence and the World. 
 
 Prudence, of old a facred term, imply'd 
 Virtue, with godlike wifdom for her guide, 
 
 But
 
 N I G M T. 91 
 
 But now in genVal ufe is known to mean 
 The ftalking-horfe of vice, and folly's fcreen. 
 The fenfe perverted we retain the name, 
 Hypocrily and Prudence are the fame. 
 
 A Tutor once, more read in men than books, 
 A kind of crafty knowledge in his looks, 
 Demurely fly, with high preferment bleft, 
 His fav'rite pupil in thefe words addrefs'd : 
 
 Would'fl: thou, my fon, be wife and virtuous deem'd, 
 By all mankind a prodigy efteem'd ? 
 Be this thy rule ; be what men prude7it call ; 
 Prudence, almighty Prudence, gives thee all. 
 Keep up appearances, there lies the teft. 
 The world will give thee credit for the reft. 
 Outward be fair, however foul within ; 
 Sin if thou wilt, but then in fecret fin. 
 This maxim's into common favour grown. 
 Vice is no longer vice, unlefs 'tis known, 
 Virtue indeed may barefac'd take the field; 
 But vice is virtue when 'tis well conceaFd. 
 Should raging pafiions drive thee to a whore. 
 Let Prudence lead thee to a pojlcrn door 3 
 
 N 2 Stay
 
 92 NIGHT. 
 
 Stay out all night, but take efpecial care 
 That Prudence bring thee back to early prayer. 
 As one with watching and with ftudy faint, 
 Reel in a drunkard, and reel out a faint. 
 
 With joy the youth this ufeful leflbn heard, 
 And in his mem'ry flor'd each precious word, 
 Succcfsfully purfu'd the plan, and now^ 
 '' Room for my Lord — Virtue ftand by and bow.'* 
 
 And is this all — is this the wordling's art, 
 To mafk, but not amend a vicious heart? 
 Shall lukewarm caution and demeanour grave, 
 For wife and good ftamp ev'ry fupple knave? 
 Shall wretches, whom no real virtue warms, 
 Gild fair their names and ftates with empty forms, 
 Whilft Virtue feeks in vain the wifh'd-for prize, 
 Becaufe, difdaining ill, iTie hates difguife; 
 Ikcaufe fhe frankly pours forth all lier ftore. 
 Seems what fhe />, and fcorns to pafs for more? 
 Well — be it fo — let vile diffemblers hold 
 Unenvy'd powV, and boaft their dear-bought gold. 
 Me neither pow'r fhall tempt, nor thirft of pelf. 
 To flatter others or deny myfelf, 
 
 Might
 
 NIGHT. 93 
 
 Might the whole world be plac'd within my fpan, 
 I would not be that Thing, that Prudent Man. 
 
 What, cries Sir Pliant, would you then oppofe 
 Yourfelf, alone, againft an hoft of foes ? 
 Let not conceit, and peevifh luft to rail. 
 Above all fenfe of interefl: prevail. 
 Throw oft' for fhame this petulance of wit, 
 Be wife, be modeft, and for once fubmit : 
 Too hard the tafk 'gainft multitudes to fight. 
 You muft be wrong, the World is in the right. 
 
 What is this World ? a term which men have got 
 To fignify, not one in ten knows what ; 
 A term, which with no more precifion pafles 
 To point out herds of 7ne7j than herds of ajfes ; 
 In common ufe no more it means we find, 
 Than many fools in fame opinions join'd. 
 
 Can numbers then change nature's flated laws? 
 Can numbers make the worfe the better caufc? 
 Vice muft be vice, virtue be virtue ftill, 
 Tho' thoufands rail at good and pradife ill. 
 
 Wouldft
 
 94 NIGHT. 
 
 Wouldft thou defend the Gaul's deftru6live rage 
 Becaufe vafi: nations on his part engage ? 
 Tho' to fupport the rebel Caesar's caufe 
 Tumultuous legions arm againft the laws, 
 Tlio' Scandal would our Patriot\ name impeach, 
 And rails at virtues which flie cannot reach, 
 What honeft man but would with joy fubmit 
 To bleed with Cato, and retire with PITT? 
 
 Stediaft and true to virtue's facred laws, 
 Unmov'd by vulgar cenfure or applaufe, 
 .Let the World talk, my Friend; that World we know 
 Which calls us guilty, cannot make us fo. 
 Unaw'd by numbers, follow Nature's plan, 
 Affert the rights, or quit the name of man. 
 Confider well, weigh ftridlly right and wrong; 
 Refolve not quick, but once refolv'd be ftrong. 
 In fpite of Dullnefs, and in fpite of Wit, 
 It to thyfelf thou canft thyfelf acquit, 
 Rather ftand up aflur'd with confcious pride 
 Alone, than err with millions on thy fide. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 SCOTS PASTORAL 
 
 INSCRIBED TO 
 
 JOHN W I L K E S, Efqj
 
 THE 
 
 PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 SCOTS PASTORAL. 
 
 WHEN Cupid firft inftrudls his darts to fly 
 From the fly corner of fome cook-maid's eye, 
 The fl:ripHng raw, jufl: entered in his teens, 
 Receives the wound, and wonders what it means ; 
 His heart, like dripping, melts, and new deflrc 
 Within him fl;irs, each time flie ftirs the fire 3 
 
 O Trembling
 
 98 The P R O P H E C Y of F A M I N E. 
 
 Trembling and blufhing he the fair one views, 
 And fain would fpeak, but can't — without a Muse. 
 
 So to the facred mount he takes his way, 
 Prunes his young wings, and tunes his infant lay, 
 Plis oaten reed to rural ditties frames. 
 To flocks and rocks, to hills and rills proclaims, 
 In fimpleft notes, and all unpolifh'd ftrains, 
 The loves of nymphs, and eke the loves of fwains^ 
 
 Clad, as your nymphs were always clad of yore. 
 In ruftic weeds — a cook-maid now no more — 
 Beneath an aged oak Lardella lies — 
 Green mofs her couch ; her canopy the fkies. 
 From aromatic fhrubs the roguiflo gale 
 Steals young perfumes, and wafts them thro* the vale 
 The youth, turn'd fwain, and fkill'd in ruftic lays, 
 Faft by her fide his am'rous defcant plays. 
 Herds lowe, Flocks bleat, Pies chatter. Ravens fcreara^ 
 And the full chorus dies a-down the ftream. 
 The ftreams, with mufic freighted, as they pafs, 
 Prefent the fair Lardella with a glafs, 
 And Zephyr, to compleat the love-fick plan. 
 Waves his light wings, and ferves her for a fan. 
 
 But
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 99 
 
 But, when maturer Judgment takes the lead, 
 Thefe childifh toys on Reafon's altar bleed ; 
 Form'd after fome great ma^iy whofe name breeds awe, 
 Whofe ev'ry fentence Fafhion makes a law, 
 Who on mere credit his vain trophies rears, 
 And founds his merit on our fervile fears ; 
 Then we difcard the workings of the heart, 
 And nature's banifh'd by mechanic art; 
 Then, deeply read, our reading muft be fhown ; 
 Vain is that knowledge which remains unknown. 
 Then Ostentation marches to our aid. 
 And letter d Pride ftalks forth in full parade; 
 Beneath their care behold the work refine. 
 Pointed each fentence, polifti'd ev'ry line. 
 Trifles are dignified, and taught to wear 
 The robes of Antients with a Modern air, 
 Nonsense with Claffic ornaments is grac'd, 
 And paffes current wdth the ftamp of Taste. 
 
 Then the rude Theocrite is ranfack'd o'er. 
 And courtly Maro calFd from Mincio's fliore; 
 Sicilian Mufes on our mountains roam, 
 Eafy and free as if they were at home ; 
 
 O 2 Nymphs,
 
 100 The P R O P H E C Y of F A M I N E. 
 
 Nymphs, Naiads, Nereids, Dryads, Satyrs, Fauns, 
 Sport in our floods, and trip it o'er our lawns ; 
 Flow'rs, which once flourifli'd fair in Greece and Rome, 
 More fair revive in England's meads to bloom; 
 Skies without cloud exotic funs adorn ; 
 And rofes blufli, but blufh without a thorn ; 
 Landfcapes, unknown to dowdy Nature, rife, 
 And new creations ftrike our wond'ring eyes. 
 
 For bards, like thefe, who neither fing nor fay, 
 Grave without thought, and without feeling gay, 
 Whofe numbers in one even tenor flow, 
 yitturid to pleafure, and attund to woe, 
 Who, if plain Common-sense her vifit pays, 
 And mars one couplet in their happy lays. 
 As at fome Ghofl: affrighted, fl:art and ftare. 
 And afk the meaning of her coming there ; 
 For bards like thefe a wreath fliall Mason bring, 
 Lind with the fofteft down of Folly's wing; 
 In Love's Pagoda fliall they ever doze. 
 And Gisbal kindly rock thtm to repofe; 
 My lord — to letters as to faith mofi: true — 
 At once their patron and example too — • 
 
 Shall
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. loi 
 
 Shall quaintly fafhion his love-labour'd dreams, 
 
 Sigh with fad winds, and weep with weeping ftreams, 
 
 Curious in grief, (for real grief, we know, 
 
 Is curious to drefs up the tale of woe) 
 
 From the green umbrage of fome Druid's feat. 
 
 Shall his own works in his own way repeat. 
 
 Me^ whom no mufe of heav'nly birth infpires. 
 No judgment tempers when rafh genius fires ; 
 Who boaft no merit but mere knack of rhime. 
 Short gleams of fenfe, and fatire out of time, 
 Who cannot follow where trim fancy leads 
 By prattling ftreams o'er flow r-empur pled meads ; 
 Who often, but without fuccefs, have pray'd 
 For apt Alliteration's artful aid\ 
 Who would, but cannot, with a matter's fkill, 
 Coin fine new epithets, which mean no ill^ 
 Me, thus uncouth, thus ev'ry way unfit 
 For pacing poefy, and ambling wit. 
 Taste with contempt beholds, nor deigns to place 
 Amongft the loweft of her favourd race. 
 
 Thou, Nature, art my goddefs — to thy law 
 
 Myfelf I dedicate — he?2Cn flavilh awe 
 
 I Which
 
 102 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 Which bends to fafhion, and obeys the rules, 
 
 Impos'd at firft, and fince obferv'd by fools. 
 
 Hence thofe vile tricks which mar fair Nature's hue, 
 
 And bring the fober matron forth to view. 
 
 With all that artificial tawdry glare, 
 
 Which virtue fcorns, and none but ftrumpets wear. 
 
 Sick of thofe pomps, thofe vanities, that wafte 
 
 Of toil, which critics now miftake for taftey 
 
 Of falfe refinements fick, and labour'd eafe, 
 
 Which Art, too thinly veil'd, forbids to pleafe, 
 
 By Nature's charms (inglorious truth \) fubdued, 
 
 However plain her drefs, and haviour rude, 
 
 To ■northern climes my happier courfe I fteer. 
 
 Climes where the Goddefs reigns throughout the year. 
 
 Where, undifturb'd by Art's rebellious plan, 
 
 She rules the loyal Laird^ and faithful Clan, 
 
 To that rare foil, where virtues cluft'ring grow. 
 What mighty bleflings doth not England owe? 
 What waggon-loads of courage, wealth and fenfe. 
 Doth each revolving day import from thence ? 
 To us file gives, difinterefted friend, 
 Faith without fraud, and Stuarts without end. 
 
 When
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. ^03 
 
 When we profperity's rich trappings wear, 
 Come not her gen'rous fons and take a fhare ? 
 And if, by fome difaftrous turn of fate, 
 Change fhould enfue, and ruin feize the ftate, 
 Shall we not find, fafe in that hallow'd ground. 
 Such refuge as the Holy Martyr found? 
 
 Nor lefs our debt in Science, tho' denied 
 By the weak flaves of prejudice and pride. 
 Thence came the Ramsay's, names of worthy note, 
 Of whom one paints, as well as t'other wrote ; 
 Thence^ Home, difbanded from the fons of pray'r 
 For loving plays, tho' no dull Dean was there ; 
 Thence ifiued forth, at great Macpherson's call, 
 That oldy 7uw^ Epic Pajloraly Fingal ; 
 Thence^ Malloch, friend alike of Church and State^ 
 Of Christ and Liberty, by grateful Fate 
 Rais'd to rewards, which, in a pious reign, 
 All darli?ig Infidels fhould feek in vain ; 
 Thence limple bards, by fimple prudence taught. 
 To this wife town by fimple patrons brought, 
 In fimple manner utter fimple lays. 
 And take, with fimple penfions, fimple praife. 
 
 Waft
 
 104 The P R O P H E C Y of F A M I N E. 
 
 Waft mc fome mufe to Tweed's inlpiring ftreanij 
 Where all the little loves and graces dream, 
 Where flowly winding the dull waters creep, 
 And feem themfelves to own the power of fleep, 
 Where on the furface Lead, like feathers, fwims, 
 There let me bathe my yet unhallow'd limbs, 
 As once a Syrian bath'd in Jordan's flood, 
 Wafli oft' my native ftains, corredl that blood 
 Which mutinies at call of EngliJJj pride, 
 And, deaf to prudence, rolls a patriot tide. 
 
 From folemn thought which overhangs the brow 
 Of patriot care, when things are — God knows how ; 
 From nice trim points, where Honour, flave to rule. 
 In compliment to folly, plays the fool j 
 From thofe gay fcenes, where mirth exalts his pow'r, 
 And eafy Humour wings the laughing hour; 
 From thofe foft better momen:s, when deflre 
 Beats aigh, and all the world of man's on fire, 
 When mutual ardours of the melting fair 
 More than repay us for whole years of care. 
 At Ff'is?2dJ]:ap' s fummons will my Wilkes retreat. 
 And fee, o?tce feen before^ that antie?it feat, 
 
 That
 
 The PROPHECY of F AMI N E. 105 
 
 That ancient feat, where majefty difplay'd 
 Her enfigns, lo7tg before the world was made P 
 
 Mean narrow maxims, whicli enflave mankind, 
 Ne'er from its bias warp thy fettled mind. 
 Not dup'd by party, nor opinion's flave, 
 Thofe faculties which bounteous Nature gave, 
 Thy honeft fpirit into pradice brings, 
 Nor courts the fmile, nor dreads the frown of Kings. 
 Let rude licentiotis Engliflimcn comply 
 With tumult's voice, and curfe they know not why; 
 Unwilling to condemn, thy foul difdains 
 To wear vile fadion's arbitrary chains, 
 And ftridlly weighs, in apprehenfion clear, 
 Things as they are, and not as they appear. 
 With thee Good-humour tempers lively Wit, 
 Enthron'd with Judgment, Candour loves to fit. 
 And Nature gave thee, open to diftrefs, 
 A heart to pity, and a hand to blefs. 
 
 Oft have I heard thee mourn the wretched lot 
 
 Of the poor, mean, defpis'd, infulted Scot^ 
 
 Who, might calm reafon credit idle tales, 
 
 By rancour forg'd where prejudice prevails, 
 
 P Or
 
 io6 The PROPHECY of F A M 1 N E. 
 
 Or ftarves at home, or pradlifes, thro' fear 
 
 Of ftarving, arts which damn all confcience here. 
 
 When Scriblers^ to the charge by int'reft led, 
 
 The fierce North-Briton foaming at their head, 
 
 Pour forth invcdlives, deaf to candour's call, 
 
 And injur'd by one alien, rail at all ; 
 
 On Northern Pifgah when they take their ftand. 
 
 To mark the weaknefs of that Holy Land^ 
 
 With needlefs truths their libels to adorn. 
 
 And hang a nation up to public fcorn. 
 
 Thy gen'rous foul condemns the frantic rage, 
 
 And hates the faithful, but ill-natur'd, page. 
 
 The Scots are poor, cries furly Englifh pride ; 
 True is the charge, nor by themfelves denied. 
 Are they not then in ftricleft reafon clear, 
 Who wifely come to mend their iortunes here? 
 If by low fupple arts fuccefsful grown, 
 They fapp'd our vigour to encreafe their own, 
 If, mean in want, and infolent in pow'r. 
 They only fawn'd more furely to devour, 
 Rous'd by fuch wrongs fhould Reason take alarm. 
 And e'en the Muse for public fafety arm; 
 
 But
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. lo 
 
 But if they own ingenuous virtue's fvvay, 
 
 And follow where true honour points the way, 
 
 If they revere the hand by which they're fed. 
 
 And blefs the donors for their daily bread, 
 
 Or by vaft debts of higher import bound, 
 
 Are always humble, always grateful found, 
 
 If they, directed by Paul's holy pen, 
 
 Become difcretely all things to all men, 
 
 That all men may become all things to them, 
 
 Envy may hate, but juftice can't condemn. 
 
 '^ Into our places, ftates, and beds they creep:" 
 
 They've fenfe to get, what we want fenfe to keep. 
 
 Once, be the hour accurs'd, accurs'd the place, 
 I ventur'd to blafpheme the chofen race. 
 Into thofe traps, which men, caWd Patriots, laid, 
 By fpecious arts unwarily betray'd. 
 Madly I leagu'd againft that facred earth, 
 Vile parricide ! which gave a parent birth. 
 But fhall I meanly error's path purfue. 
 When heav'nly Truth prefents her friendly clue, 
 Once plung'd in ill, fliall I go farther in ? 
 To make the oath, was rafli ; to keep it, fin, 
 
 P 2 Backward
 
 io8 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 Backward I tread the paths I trod before, 
 And cahii refledion hates what paflion fwore. 
 Converted, (bleffed are the fouis which know 
 Thofe pleafures which from true converlion flow, 
 Whether to reafon, who now rules my breaft, 
 Or to pure faith, hke Lyttleton and West) 
 Paft crimes to expiate, be my prefent aim 
 To raife new trophies to the Scottish name, 
 To make (what can the proudefl Mufe do more ?) 
 E'en faction's fons her brighter worth adore. 
 To make her glories, ftamp'd with honeft rhimes, 
 In fuUeft tide roll down to lateft times. 
 
 *^ Prefumptuous wretch ! and fhall a Mufe like thine 
 *^ An E?iglijh Mufe^ the meaneft of the nine, 
 '' Attempt a theme like this ? Can her weak ftrain 
 *' Expedl indulgence from the mighty Thane ? 
 '^ Should he from toils of <zovernment retire, 
 *' And for a moment fan the poet's fire, 
 ** Should he, of fciences the moral friend, 
 *^ Each curious y each important fearch fufpend, 
 " Leave tinajfiftecl Hill of herbs to tell, 
 *' And all the wonders of a Cockle-fhell^ 
 
 Having
 
 The P R O P H E C Y of F A M I N E. 109 
 
 ** Having the Lord's good grace before his eyes, 
 
 " Would not the Home ftep forth, and gain the prize? 
 
 *^ Or if this wreath of honour migrht adorn 
 
 ^^ The humble brows of one in Rngla7td born, 
 
 *' Prefumptuous ftill thy daring muft appear; 
 
 *' Vain all thy tov/'ring hopes, whilft I am here." 
 
 Thus fpake a form^ by lilken fmile, and tone 
 Dull and unvaried, for the Laureat known. 
 Folly's chief friend, Decorum's eldefl fon. 
 In ev'ry party founJ, and yet of none. 
 This aify fubjlance^ this fubftantial poadcy 
 Abafh'd I heard, and with refpedt obey'd. 
 
 From themes too lofty for a bard fo mean, 
 Difcretion beckons to an humbler fcene. 
 The reftlefs fever of ambition laid, 
 Calm I retire, and feek the fylvan fhade. 
 Now be the Mufe difrob'd of all her pride. 
 Be all the glare of verfe by Truth fupplied, 
 And if plain nature pours a limple ftrain. 
 Which Bute may praife, and Ossian not difdain, 
 OssiAN, fuhlimejl^ Jimplejl Bard of all. 
 Whom Englijh Infidels^ Macpherson call^ 
 
 Then
 
 no The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 Then round my head fhall honour's enfigns wave. 
 And penfions mark me for a willing flave. 
 
 Two Boys, whofe birth beyond all queftion fprings 
 From great and glorious, tho' forgotten, kings, 
 Shepherds of ScottiJJo lineage, born and bred 
 On the fame bleak and barren mountain's head, 
 By niggard nature doom'd on the fame rocks 
 To fpin out life, and ftarve themfelves and flocks, 
 Frefli as the morning, which, enrob'd in mift, 
 The mountain top with ufual dullnefs kifs'd, 
 Jockey and Sawney to their labours rofe ; 
 Soon clad I ween, where nature needs no cloaths, 
 Where, from their youth enur'd to winter-fkies, 
 Drefs and her vain refinements they defpife. 
 
 Jockey, whofe manly high-bon'd cheeks to crown 
 With freckles fpotted flam'd the golden down, 
 With mikle art, could on the bagpipes play, 
 E'en from the rifing to the fetting day ; 
 
 Sawney
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. iii 
 
 Sawney as long without remorfe could bawl 
 Home's madrigals, and ditties from Fingal. 
 Oft at his ftrains, all natural tho' rude, 
 The Highland Lafs forgot her want of food, . 
 And, whilft ihe fcratch^d her lover into reft, 
 Sunk pleas'd, tho' hungry, on her Sawney's breaft. 
 
 Far as the eye could reach, no tree was feen, 
 Earth, clad in ruffet, fcorn'd the lively green. 
 The plague of Locufts they fecure defy, 
 For in three hours a grafhopper muft die. 
 No living thing, whate'er its food, feafts there, 
 But the Cameleon, who can feaft on air. 
 No birds, except as birds of pailage flew, 
 No bee was known to hum, no dove to coo. 
 No ftreams as amber fmooth, as amber clear. 
 Were feen to glide, or heard to warble here. 
 Rebellion's fpring, which thro' the country raiij 
 Furnifh'd, with bitter draughts, the fteady clan. 
 No flow'rs embalm'd the air, but one white rofc, 
 Which, on the tenth of June, by inftind blows. 
 By inftind blows at morn, and, when the fhades 
 Of drizly eve prevail, by inftind: fades. 
 
 One
 
 112 The PROPHECY of FAMINE, 
 
 One, and but one poor folitary cave, 
 Too fparing of her favours, nature gave ; 
 That one alone (hard tax on Scottip pride !) 
 Shelter at once for man and beaft fupplied. 
 Their fnares ^dvhhcut entangling briers fpread. 
 And thirties, arm'd againft th'invader's head, 
 Stood in clofe ranks all entrance to oppofe, 
 Thirties now held more precious than the rofe. 
 All creatures which, on nature's earliert plan, 
 Were form'd to loath, and to be loath'd by man, 
 M^hich ov/^d their birth to nartine-'s and fpite, 
 Deadly to touch, and hateful to the fight. 
 Creatures which, when admitted in the ark. 
 Their Saviour fliun'd, and rankled in the dark, 
 Found place within^ marking her noifome road 
 With poifon's trail, here crawl'd the bloated Toad ; 
 Inhere webs were fpread of more than common fize, 
 And half-rtarv'd fpiders prey'd on half-rtarv'd flies; 
 In quert oi food. Efts rtrove in vain to crawl ; 
 Slugs, pinch'd with hunger, fmcar'd the flimy wall ; 
 The cave around with hifling ferpents rung; 
 On the damp roof unhealthy vapour hung; 
 And Famine, by her cildr en always known^ 
 As proud as foor^ here fix'd her native throne. 
 
 Here^
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 113 
 
 Herey for the fullen fky was overcaft, 
 And fummer fhrunk beneath a wint'ry blaft, 
 A native blaft, which, arm'd v/ith hail and rain, 
 Beat unrelenting on the naked fwain, 
 The Boys for fhelter made ; behind, the fheep. 
 Of which thofe fhepherds evVy day take keepy . 
 Sickly crept on, and with complainings rude. 
 On nature feem'd to call, and bleat for food. 
 
 JOCKEY. 
 
 Sith to this cave, by tempeft, we're confin'd, 
 And within ken our flocks, under the wind, 
 Safe from the pelting of this perilous ftorm, 
 Are laid emong yon thiftles, dry and warm, 
 What, Sawney, if by fhepherd's art we try 
 To mock the rigour of this cruel fky ? 
 What if we tune fome merry roundelay? 
 Well doft thou fing, nor ill doth Jockey play. 
 
 SAWNEY. 
 
 Ah, Jockey, ill advifeft thou, / wisy 
 To think of fongs at fuch a time as this. 
 
 Q^ Sooner
 
 114 The P R O P H E C Y of F A M I N E. 
 
 Sooner fhall herbage crown thefe barren rocks, 
 Sooner fliall fleeces cloath thefe ragged flocks, 
 Sooner ihall want feize fhepherds of the fouth. 
 And we forget to Hve from liand to mouth. 
 Than Sawney, out of fcafon, fhall impart 
 The fongs of gladnefs with an aching heart. 
 
 JOCKEY. 
 
 Still have I known thee for a filly fwain ; 
 Of things paft help, what boots it to complain? 
 Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune^s fpite ; 
 No fky is heavy, if the heart be light : 
 Patience is forrow's falve ; what can't be cur'd. 
 So Donald right areedsy mufi: be endur'd. 
 
 SAWNEY. 
 
 Full filly fwain, / wot, is Jockey now; 
 How did'ft thou bear thy Maggy's flalfhood? how, 
 When with a foreign loon flie ftole away, 
 Did'fl: thou forfwear thy pipe and fhepherd's lay ? 
 Where was thy boafled wifdom then, when I 
 Applied thofe proverbs, which you now apply ? 
 
 JOCKEY.
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 115 
 
 JOCKEY. 
 
 O fhe was hoimy! all the Highlands round 
 Was there a rival to my Maggy found ! 
 More precious (tho' that precious is to all) 
 Than the rare med'cine, which we Brimflone call, 
 Or that choice plant, fo grateful to the nofe. 
 Which, in I know not what far country, grows, 
 Was Maggy unto me; dear do I rue, 
 A lafs fo fair fhould ever prove untrue. 
 
 SAWNEY. 
 
 Whether with pipe or fong to charm the ear, 
 Thro' all the land did Jamie find a peer? 
 Curs'd be that year by ev'ry honeft Scot, 
 And in the fhepherd's calendar forgot. 
 That fatal year, when Jamie, haplefs fwain. 
 In evil hour forfook the peaceful plain. 
 Jamie, when our young Laird difcreetly fled, 
 Was feiz'd and hang d till he was dead, dead, dead. 
 
 0^2 JOCKEY.
 
 n6 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 JOCKEY. 
 
 Full forely may we all lament that day : 
 For all were lofers in the deadly fray. 
 Five brothers had I, on the Scottifli plains, 
 Well doft thou know v/ere none more hopeful fwainsj 
 Five brothers there I loft, in manhood's pride, 
 Two in the field, and three on gibbets died ; 
 Ah I filly fwains, to follow war's alarms, 
 Ah! what hath fhepherd's life to do with arms! 
 
 SAWNEY. 
 
 Mention it not — there faw I ftrangers clad 
 In all the honours of our ravifh'd Plaid^ 
 Saw the Ferrara too, our nation's pride. 
 Unwilling grace the aukward vidor's fide. 
 There fell our choiceft youth, and from that day 
 Mote never Sawney tune the merry lay ; 
 Blefs'd thofe which fell ! curs'd thofe which ftill furvive. 
 To mourn fifteen renew'd in forty-fve. 
 
 Thus
 
 The P ROP HE CY of FAMINE. 117 
 
 Thus plain'd the Boys, when, from her throne of turf, 
 With boils embofs'd, and overgrown with fcurf, 
 Vile humours, which, in Hfe's corrupted well, 
 Mix'd at the birth, not abftinence could quell, 
 Pale Famine rear'd the head; her eager eyes. 
 Where hunger e'en to madnefs feem'd to rife. 
 Speaking aloud her throes and pangs of heart, 
 Strain'd to get loofe, and from their orbs to ftart^ 
 Her hollow cheeks were each a deep-funk cell. 
 Where wretchednefs and horror lov'd to dwell ; 
 With double rows of ufelefs teeth fupplied, 
 Her mouth, from ear to ear, extended wide. 
 Which, when for want of food her entrails pin'd. 
 She op'd, and curfing fwallow'd nought but wmd ; 
 All fhrivell'd was her fkin ; and here and there. 
 Making their way by force, her bones lay bare: 
 Such filthy fight to hide from human view. 
 O'er her foul limbs a tatter'd Plaid fhe threw. 
 
 Ceafe, cried the Goddefs, ceafe, defpairing fwains, 
 And from a parent hear what Jove ordains! 
 
 Pent in this barren corner of the ifle, 
 Where partial fortune never deign'd to fmile; 
 
 Like
 
 ii8 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 Like nature's baftards, reaping for our (hare 
 
 What was rejected by the lawful heir ; 
 
 Unknown amongft the nations of the earth, 
 
 Or only known to raife contempt and mirth ; 
 
 Lono- free, becaufe the race of Roman braves 
 
 Thought it not worth their while to make us flaves ; 
 
 Then into bondage by that nation brought, 
 
 Whofe ruin we for ages vainly fought, 
 
 Whom ftill with unflack'd hate we view, and ftill, 
 
 The pow'r of mifchief loft, retain the will ; 
 
 Confider'd as the refufe of mankind, 
 
 A mafs till the laft moment left behind. 
 
 Which frugal nature doubted, as it lay. 
 
 Whether to ftamp with life, or throw away ; 
 
 Which, form'd in hafte, was planted in this nook, 
 
 But never enter'd in Creation's book ; 
 
 Branded as traitors, who for love of gold. 
 
 Would fell their God, as once their King they fold ; 
 
 Long have we borne this mighty weight of ill, 
 
 Thefe vile injurious taunts, and bear them ftill, 
 
 But times of happier note are now at hand. 
 
 And the full promife of a better land : 
 
 Z5^r£?, like the Sons of Ifrael^ having trod, . 
 
 For the fix'd term of years ordain'd by God,
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 119 
 
 A barren defart, we fhall feize rich plains, 
 Where milk with honey flows, and plenty reigns. 
 With fome few natives join'd, fome pliant {^m^^ 
 Who worfhip intVeft, and our track purfue, 
 There fhall we, tho' the wretched people grieve, 
 Ravage at large, nor afk the owners leave. 
 
 For us, the earth fhall bring forth her increafe; 
 For us, the flocks fhall wear a golden fleece; 
 Fat Beeves fhall yield us dainties not our own, 
 And the grape bleed a nedar yet unknown; 
 For our advantage fhall their harvefts grow, 
 And Scotfmen reap, what they difdain'd to fow ; 
 For us, the fun fhall climb the eaftern hill ; 
 For us, the rain fhall fall, the dew diflil ; 
 When to our wifhes Nature cannot rife, 
 Art fhall be tafk'd to grant us frefli fupplies. 
 His brawny arm fhall drudging Labour ftrain, 
 And for our pleafure fufi'er daily pain ; 
 Trade fhall for us exert her utmoft pow'rs, 
 Her's, all the toil, and all the profit,, our's ; 
 For us, the Oak fliall from his native fteep 
 Defcend, and fearlefs travel thro' the deep ; 
 
 The
 
 .I20 The PROPHECY of F A M I N E. 
 
 The fail of Commerce for our ufe unfurl'd, 
 Shall waft the treafures of each diftant world ; 
 For us, fublimer heights fhall fcience reach, 
 For us, their StateHiien plot, their Churchmen preach; 
 Their nobleft limbs of counfel we'll disjoint, 
 And, mocking, new ones of our own appoint ; 
 Devouring War, imprifon'd in the north, 
 .Shall, at our call, in horrid pomp break forth, 
 And when, his chariot wheels with thunder hung, 
 Fell Difcord braying with her brazen tongue, 
 Death in the van, with Anger, Hate, and Fear, 
 And Defolation ftalking in the rear, 
 R<. vengq, by Juftice guided, in his train. 
 He drives impetuous o'er the trembling plain, 
 Shall, at our bidding, quit his lawful prey. 
 And to meek, gentle, gen'rous Peace give way. 
 
 Think not, my fons, that this fo blefs'd eftate 
 Stands at a difcance on the roll of fate; 
 Already bi^^ with hopes of future fway, 
 E\ ! from this ca^e I fccnt my deflia'd pt*ey. 
 Hunk not, that this donvlnion o'er a race, 
 Whofe former deeds fnau uiae's lail annals grace. 
 
 In
 
 The PROPHECY of F AMI NE. i2i 
 
 In the rough face of peril muft be fought, 
 And with the Hves of thoufands dearly bought; 
 No — fooFd by cunning, by that happy art 
 Which laughs to fcorn the blund'ring hero's heart, 
 Into the fnare fhall our kind neighbours fall 
 Vv^lth open eyes, and fondly give us all. 
 
 When Rome, to prop her finking empire, bore 
 Their choicefl: levies to a foreign fhore. 
 What if we feiz'd, like a deftroying flood. 
 Their widow' d plains, and fill'd the realm with blood, 
 Gave an unbounded loofe to manly rage, 
 And, fcorning mercy, fpar'd nor fex nor age; 
 When, for our intereft too mighty grown, 
 Monarchs of warlike bent poffefs'd the throne. 
 What if we ftrove divifions to foment, 
 And fpread the flames of civil difcontent, 
 Affifted thofe who 'gainft their king made head, 
 And gave the traitors refuge when they fled ; 
 When reftlefs Glory bad her fons advance. 
 And pitch'd her flandard in the fiekls of France, 
 What if, difdaining oaths, an empty found. 
 By w^hich our nation never fhall be bound, - 
 
 R Bravely
 
 122 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 Bravely we taught unmuzzled war to roam 
 
 Thro' the weak land, and brought cheap laurels home ; 
 
 When the bold traitors leagu'd for the defence 
 
 Of Law, Religion, Liberty, and Senfe, 
 
 When they againft their lawful Monarch rofe. 
 
 And dar'd the Lord's Anointed to oppofe, 
 
 What if we ftill rever'd the banifh'd race. 
 
 And ftrovc the Royal Vagrants to replace, 
 
 With fierce rebellions fliook th' unfettled ftate, 
 
 And greatly dar'd, tho' crofs'd by partial fate; 
 
 Thefe fads, which might, where wifdom held the fway, 
 
 Awake the very ftones to bar our way, 
 
 There fhall be nothing, nor one trace remain 
 
 In the dull region of an Eno-Hfli brain. 
 
 Blefs'd with that Faith^ which mountains can remov^e, 
 
 Firft they fhall Dupes^ next Saints^ laft Martyr^s prove. 
 
 Already is this game of fate begun 
 Under the fandlion of my Darling Son, 
 That Son, of nature royal as his name, 
 Is deftin'd to redeem our race from fhamc, 
 His boundlefs pow'r, beyond example great. 
 Shall make the rough way fmooth, the crooked flraight. 
 
 Shall
 
 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 123 
 
 Shall for our eafe the raging floods reftrain. 
 And iink the mountain level to the plain. 
 Discord, whom in a cavern under ground 
 With mafly fetters their late Patriot bound. 
 Where her own flefh the furious Hag might tear. 
 And vent her curfes to the vacant air, 
 Where, that fhe never might be heard of more, 
 He planted Loyalty to guard the door, 
 For better purpofe ihall Our Chief releafe, 
 Difguife her for a time, and call her Peace. 
 
 Lur'd by that name, fine engine of deceit, 
 Shall the weak English help themfelves to cheat, 
 To gain our love, with honours fhall they grace 
 The old adherents of the Stuart race. 
 Who pointed out, no matter by what name, 
 Tories or Jacobites, are ftill the fame; 
 To footh our rage, the temporifing brood 
 Shall break the ties of truth and gratitude, 
 Againft their Saviour venom'd falfhoods frame. 
 And brand with calumny tlieir William's name; 
 To win our grace, (rare argument of wit) 
 To our untainted faith fhall they commit 
 
 R 2 (Our
 
 124 The PROPHECY of FAMINE. 
 
 (Our faith which, in extremeft perils tried, 
 Difdain'd, and ftill difdains, to change her fide,) 
 That facred Majefty they all approve, 
 Who moft enjoys, and beft deferves their Love. 
 
 A N
 
 A N 
 
 E P I S T L E 
 
 T O 
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH
 
 A N 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 T O 
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH, 
 
 AMONGST the fons of men how few are known 
 Who dare be juft to merit not their own ! 
 Superior virtue and fuperior fenfe 
 To knaves and fools will always give offence ; 
 Nay, men of real worth can fcarcely bear. 
 So nice is Jealoufy, a rival there. 
 
 Be
 
 128 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Ee wicked as thou wilt, do all that's bafe, 
 Proclaim thyfclf the monftcr of thy race; 
 Let Vice and Folly thy black Soul divide. 
 Be proud witli meannefs, and be mean with pride ; 
 Deaf to the voice of Faith and Honour, fall 
 FVom fide to fide, yet be of none at all ; 
 Spurn all thofe charities, thofe facred ties. 
 Which Nature in her bounty, good as wife, 
 To work our fafety, and enfure her plan, 
 Contrived to bind, and rivet man to man ; 
 Lift againft Virtue Pow'r's oppreflive rod, 
 Betray thy Country, and deny thy God ; 
 And, in one gen'ral comprehenfive line. 
 To group, which volumes fcarcely could define, 
 Whate'er of Sin and Dulnefs can be faid. 
 
 Join to a F 's heart a D 's head. 
 
 Yet may'fl: thou pafs unnotic'd in the throng, 
 And, free from Envy, fafely fneak along. 
 The rigid Saint, by whom no mercy's fhewn 
 To Saints whofe lives are better than his own. 
 Shall fpare thy crimes; and Wit, who never once 
 Forgave a Brother, fhall forgive a Dunce. 
 
 But
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 129 
 
 But fliould thy foul, form'd in fome lucklefs hour. 
 Vile Int'reft fcorn, nor madly grafp at Pow'r j 
 Should Love of Fame, in ev'ry noble mind 
 A brave difeafe, with love of Virtue join'd, 
 Spur thee to deeds of pith, where Courage, tried 
 In Reafon's court, is amply juftiiied; 
 Or fond of knowledge, and averfe to flrife, 
 Should'ft Thou prefer the calmer walk of life ; 
 Should'ft Thou, by pale and fickly Study led, 
 Purfue coy Science to the Fountain head ; 
 Virtue thy guide, and Public Good thy end. 
 Should ev'ry thought to our improvement tend. 
 To curb the paflions, to enlarge the mind, 
 Purge the iick weal, and humanize mankind : 
 Rage in her eye, and Malice in her breaft. 
 Redoubled Horror grinning on her creft, 
 Fiercer each fnake, and fharper ev'ry dart, 
 Quick from her cell fhall madd'ning Envy ftart. 
 Then fhalt Thou find, but find alas ! too late, 
 How vain is worth ! how fhort is Glory's date ! 
 Then fhalt Thou find, whilft Friends with Foes confpire 
 To give more proof than Virtue would defire. 
 Thy danger chiefly lies in adling well ; 
 No crime's fo great as daring to excel. 
 
 S Whilfl
 
 I30 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Whllft Satire thus, difdaining mean controul, 
 Urg'd the free didates of an honeft foul, 
 Candour, who, with the cliarity of P^^/, 
 Still thinks the heft, whene'er fhe thinks at all, 
 With the fweet milk of human kindnefs blefs'd, 
 The furious ardour of my zeal reprefs'd. 
 
 Can'ft Thou, with more than ufual warmth, fhe cry'd, 
 Thy malice to indulge, and feed thy pride, 
 Can'ft Thou, fevere by Nature as Thou art, 
 With all that wond'rcus rancour in thy heart, 
 Delight to torture Truth ten thoufand ways. 
 To fpin detradion forth from themes of praife^ 
 To make Vice fit, for purpofes of ftrife, 
 And draw the Hag much larger than the life, 
 To make the good feem bad, the bad feem worfe,^ 
 
 And reorefent our Nature as our curfe ? 
 
 J. 
 
 Doth not humanity condemn that zeal 
 Which tends to aggravate and not to heal? 
 Doth not difcretion warn thee of difgrace, 
 And danger grinning flare thee in the face 
 Loud as the Drum, which fpreading terror round 
 From emptinefs, acquires the pow'r of found? 
 
 Doth
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 131 
 
 Doth not the voice of Norton ftrike thy ear, 
 
 And the pale Mansfield chill thy foul with fear ? 
 
 Doft Thou, fond man, believe thyfelf fecure, 
 
 Becaufe ThouVt honeft, and becaufe Thou'rt poor? 
 
 Do'fl: Thou on Lav^ and Liberty depend ? 
 
 Turn, turn thy eyes, and view thy injured friend. 
 
 Art Thou beyond the ruffian gripe of PowV, 
 
 When Wilkes, prejudgd^ is fentenc'd to the Tow'r? 
 
 Do'ft Thou by Privilege exemption claim, 
 
 When Privilege is little more than name ? 
 
 Or to Prerogative (that glorious ground 
 
 On which State-fcoundrels oft have fafety found) 
 
 Doft Thou pretend, and there a fandion find, 
 
 Unpunifli'd, thus to Libel human kind? 
 
 When Poverty, the Poet's conftant crime, 
 CompelFd thee, all unfit, to trade in rime, 
 Had not Romantic notions turned thy head, 
 Had'ft Thou not valued Honour more than bread. 
 Had Int'refl:, pliant Int'reft, been thy guide. 
 And had not Prudence been debauch'd by Pride, 
 In flatt'ry's ftream Thou would'ft have dipp'd thy pen, 
 Applied to great, and not to honeft men, 
 
 S 2 Nor
 
 132 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Nor fhould Convidion have feduc'd thy heart 
 To take the weaker tho' the better part. 
 
 What but rank Folly, for thy curfe decreed. 
 Could into Satire's barren path miflead, 
 When, open to thy view, before thee lay 
 Soul-foothing Panegyric's flow'ry way? 
 There might the mufe have faunter'd at her eafe. 
 And, plcafing others, learn'd herfelf to pleafe, 
 Lords fhould have liften'd to the fugar'd treat, 
 And Ladies y fimpVing, own'd it vaftly fweet; 
 Rogues^ in thy prudent verfe with virtue grac'd, 
 Fools^ mark'd by thee as prodigies of Tafte, 
 Muft have forbid, pouring preferments down. 
 Such Wit, fuch Truth as thine to quit the gown. 
 Thy facred Brethren too (for they no lefs 
 Than Laymen, bring their offerings to Succefs) 
 Had hail'd Thee good if great, and paid the vow 
 Sincere as that they pay to God, whilft Thou 
 In Law?t hadft whifper'd to a fleeping croud. 
 As dull as R , and half as proud. 
 
 Peace, Candour — wifely had'ft thou faid, and well, 
 Could Int'reft in this breaft one moment dwell, 
 
 Could
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 133 
 
 Could fLe, with profpecl of fuccefs, oppofe 
 The firm refolves which from Convi6lion rofe. 
 I cannot truckle to a Fool of State, 
 Nor take a favour from the man I hate. 
 Free leave have others by fuch means to fhine; 
 I fcorn their practice, they may laugh at mine» 
 
 But in this charge, forgetful of thyfelf, 
 Thou haft affum'd the maxims of that Elf, 
 Whom God in wrath for man's difhonour fram'd, 
 Cunning in Heav'n, amongft us Prudence nam'd, 
 That fervile Prudence, which I leave to thofe 
 Who dare not be my Friends, can't be my Foes. 
 
 Had I, with cruel and oppreffive rimes, 
 Purfued, and turn'd misfortunes into crimes; 
 Had I, when Virtue gafping lay and low, 
 Join'd tyrant Vice, and added woe to woe ; 
 Had I made Modefty in blu flies fpeak, 
 And drawn the tear down Beauty's facred cheek ; 
 Had I (damn'd then) in thought debas'd my lays, 
 To wound that Sex, which Honour bids me praife ; 
 Had I, from vengeance by bafe views betray 'd, 
 In endlefs night funk injur'd Ayliff's fhade; 
 
 Had
 
 134 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Had I (which Satirifts of mighty name, 
 
 Renown'd in rime, rever'd for 7noral fame. 
 
 Have done before, whom Juftice fhall purfue 
 
 In future verfe) brought forth to pubHc view 
 
 A noble Friend, and made his foibles known, 
 
 Becaufe his worth was greater than my own ; 
 
 Had I fpar'd thofe (fo Prudeiice had decreed) 
 
 Whom, God fo help me at my greateft need, 
 
 I ne'er will fpare, thofe vipers to their King, 
 
 Who fmooth their looks, and flatter whilft they fting. 
 
 Or had I not taught patriot zeal to boaft 
 
 Of Thofe, who flatter leaf!:, but love him mofl: ; 
 
 Had I thus Unn'd, my flubborn foul fliould bend 
 
 At Candour's voice, and take, as from a friend. 
 
 The deep rebuke ; Myfelf fhould be the firft 
 
 To hate myfelf, and flamp my Mufe accurs'd. 
 
 But fhall my arm — forbid it manly Pride, 
 Forbid it Reafon, warring on my fide — 
 For vengeance lifted high, the flroke forbear, 
 And hang fufpended in the defart air. 
 Or to my trembling fide unnerv'd fink down, 
 Palfied, forfooth, by Candour's half-made frown? 
 
 When
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 135 
 
 When Juftice bids me on, fhall I delay 
 Becaufe infipid Candour bars my way ? 
 When fhe, of all alike the puling friend, 
 Would difappoint my Satire's nobleft end. 
 When fhe to villains would a fandion give, 
 And fhelter thofe who are not fit to live, 
 When fhe would fcreen the guilty from a blufh, 
 And bids me fpare whom Reafon bids me crufli, 
 All leagues with Candour proudly I refign; 
 She cannot be for Honour's turn, nor mine. 
 
 Yet come, cold monitor, half foe, half friend, 
 Whom Vice can't fear, whom Virtue can't commend. 
 Come Candour, by thy dull indift'rence known, 
 Thou equal-blooded judge. Thou lukewarm drone, 
 Who, fafhion'd without feelings, doft exped: 
 We call that Virtue, which we know Defed:, 
 Come, and obferve the Nature of our crimes, 
 The grofs and rank complexion of the times, 
 Obferve it well, and then review my plan ; 
 Praife if you will, or cenfure if you can. 
 
 Whilft Vice prefumptuous lords it as in fpovty 
 And Piety is only known at Court ; 
 
 Whilft
 
 136 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Whilfl: wretched Liberty expiring lies 
 Beneath the fatal burthen of Excise; 
 Whilfl nobles ad, without one touch of fhame, 
 What men of humble rank would blufh to name ; 
 Whilft Honour's plac'd in higheft point of view, 
 Worflupp'd by thofe, who Juftice never knew ; 
 Whilft Bubbles of Diftindion wafte in play 
 The hours of reft, and blunder thro' the day, 
 With dice and cards opprobrious vigils keep, 
 Then turn to ruin empires in their fleep ; 
 Whilft Fathers, by relentlefs paffion led. 
 Doom worthy injur'd fons to beg their bread, 
 Merely with ill-got, ill-fa v'd wealth to grace 
 An alien, abjed, poor, proud, upftartrace; 
 Whilft Martin flatters only to betray, 
 And Webb gives up his dirty foul for pay ; 
 Whilft titles fcrve to hufh a villain's fears ; 
 Whilft Peers are Agents made, and Agents Peers, 
 Whilft bafe betrayers are themfelves betray'd. 
 And makers ruin'd by the thing they made; 
 Whilft C — , f-dfe to God and man, for gold. 
 Like the old traitor who a Saviour fold. 
 To Shame his Mafter, Friend, and Father gives; 
 Whilft Bute remains in pow'r, whilft Holland lives; 
 
 Can
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 137 
 
 Can Satire want a fubjed, where Difdain, 
 By Virtue fir'd, may point her fharpefl: ftrain, 
 Where cloath'd with thunder, Truth may roll along, 
 And Candour juflify the rage of fong? 
 
 Such Things ! fuch Men before Thee ! fuch an Age ! 
 Where Rancour, great as thine, may glut her rage, 
 And ficken e'en to furfeit, where the pride 
 Of Satire, pouring down in fulleft tide. 
 May fpread wide vengeance round, yet all the while 
 Juftice behold the ruin with a fmile ; 
 Whihl: I, thy foe mifdeem'd, cannot condemn, 
 Nor difapprove that rage I wifh to ftem. 
 Wilt thou, degen'rate and corrupted, chufe 
 To foil the credit of thy haughty Mufe ? 
 With Fallacy, moft infamous, to flain 
 Her Truth, and render all her anrer vain? 
 When I beheld Thee incorred, but bold, 
 A various comment on the Stage unfold; 
 When Play'rs on Play'rs before thy fatire fell, 
 And poor Reviews confpir'd thy wrath to fwell ; 
 When States and Statcfmen next became thy care. 
 And only kings were fafe if thou waft there ; 
 
 T Thy
 
 o 
 
 8 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Thy evVy Word I vvTigh'd in Judgment's fcale, 
 And in thy evVy word found Truth prevail. 
 Why do'ft Thou now to Falfliood meanly fly? 
 Not even Candour can forgive a lye. 
 
 Bad as Men are, why fhould thy frantic rimes 
 Traffick in Slander, and invent new crimes? 
 Crimes, which exifting only in thy mind, 
 Weak Spleen brings forth to blacken all Mankind:. 
 By pleafmg hopes we lure the human heart 
 To pradife Virtue, and improve in art ; 
 To thwart thefe ends (which, proud of honefl: FamCj. 
 A noble Mufe would cherifh and inflame) 
 Thy Drudge contrives, and in our full career 
 Sicklies, our hopes with the pale hue of Fear;. 
 Tells us that all our labours are in vain ; 
 That what we feek, we never can obtain ; 
 That, dead to Virtue, lofl: to Nature's plan,. 
 Envy pofi^efles the whole race of man; 
 That Worth is criminal, and Danger lies. 
 Danger extreme, in being good and v/ife. 
 
 'Tis a rank falfhood ; fearch the world around, 
 There cannot be fo vile a monfter found, 
 
 Not
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 139 
 
 Not one fo vile, on whom fufpicions fall 
 
 Of that grofs guilt, which you impute to all. 
 
 Approved by thofe who difobey her laws, 
 
 Virtue from Vice itfelf extorts applaufe. 
 
 Her very foes bear witnefs to her ftate ; 
 
 They will not love her, but they cannot hate. 
 
 Hate Virtue for herfelf, with fpite purfu€ 
 
 Merit for Merit's fake ! might this be true, 
 
 I would renounce my Nature with difdain. 
 
 And with the beafis that perifh graze the plain. 
 
 Might this be true, had we fo far fiU'd up 
 
 The meafure of our crimes, and from the cup 
 
 Of guilt fo deeply drank, as not to find, 
 
 Thirfting for fin, one drop, one dreg behind. 
 
 Quick ruin muft involve this flaming ball. 
 
 And Providence in Juftice crufli us all. 
 
 None but the damn'd, and amongft them the worft, 
 
 Thofe who for double guilt are doubly curs'd, 
 
 Can be fo loft ; nor can the worft of all 
 
 At once into fuch deep damnation fall ; 
 
 By painful flow degrees they reach this crime, 
 
 Which e'en in Hell muft be a work of time, 
 
 T 2 Ceafe
 
 I40 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Ceafe then thy guilty rage, thou wayward fon, 
 
 With the foul gall of difcontent o'er-run, 
 
 Lift to my v^oice — be honefl:, if you can, 
 
 Nor flander Nature in her favVite man. 
 
 But if thy fpirit, refolute in ill, 
 
 Once having err'd, perfifts in error ftill. 
 
 Go on at large, no longer worth my care, 
 
 And freely vent thofe blafphemies in air. 
 
 Which I would ftamp as falfe, tho' on the tongue 
 
 Of Angels the injurious flander hung, 
 
 Dup'd by thy vanity (that cunning elf 
 Who fnares the Coxcomb to deceive himfelf) 
 Or blinded by that rage, did^fl: Thou believe 
 That We too, coolly, would ourfelves deceive? 
 That We, as fterling falfhood would admit, 
 Becaufe 'twas fcafon'd with fome little wit? 
 When Fidion rifes pleafing to the eye, 
 Men will believe, becaufe they love the lye;- 
 But Truth herfelf, if clouded with a frown, 
 Miift have fome folemn proof to pafs her down, 
 riaft Thou, maintaining that which muft difgrace 
 And bring into contempt the human race, 
 
 Haft
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 141 
 
 Haft Thou, or can'ft Thou, in Truth's facred court, 
 
 To fave thy credit, and thy caule fupport, 
 
 Produce one proof, make out one real ground 
 
 On which fo great, fo grofs a charge to found? ' 
 
 Nay, doft Thou know on^ man (let that appear, 
 
 From wilful falfhood I'll proclaim thee clear) 
 
 One man fo loft, to Nature fo untrue, 
 
 From whom this gen'ral charge thy raflmefs drew? 
 
 On this foundation fhalt thou ftand or fall — 
 
 Prove that in One, which you have charg'd on All. 
 
 Reafon determines, and it muft be done ; 
 
 'Mongft men, or paft, or prefent, name me One. 
 
 Hogarth — I take thee. Candour, at th^ word, 
 Accept thy proffer'd terms, and will be heard ; 
 Thee have I heard with virulence declaim, 
 Nothing retained of Candour but the name ; 
 By Thee have I been charg'd in angry flrains 
 With that mean falfhood which my foul difdains — 
 Hogarth ftand forth — Nay Iiang not thus aloof — 
 Now, Candour, now Thou fhall receive fuch proof, 
 Such damning proof, that henceforth Thou fhalt fear 
 To tax my wrath, and own my condu6t clear — 
 
 Hogarth
 
 142 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Hogarth ftand forth — I dare thee to be tried 
 
 Jn that great Court, where Confcience muft prelide ; 
 
 At that moft folemn bar hold up thy hand s 
 
 Think before whom, on what account you ftand — 
 
 Speak, but confider well — from lirfl: to laft 
 
 Review thy life, weigh ev'ry adion paft — 
 
 Nay, you fhall have no reafon to complain — 
 
 Take longer time, and view them o'er again = — 
 
 Canft Thou remember from thy earlieft youth, 
 
 And as thy God muft judge Thee, fpeak the truth, 
 
 A fmgle inflance where, Self laid afide, 
 
 And Jufticc taking place of fear and pride, 
 
 Thou with an equal eye did'ft Genius view, 
 
 And give to Merit what was Merit's due ? 
 
 Genius and Merit are a fure offence, 
 
 And thy Soul fickens at the name of Senfe. 
 
 Is any one fo foolifh to fucceed, 
 
 On Envy's altar he is doom'd to bleed? 
 
 Hogarth, a guilty pleafure in his eyes, 
 
 The place of Executioner fupplies» 
 
 See how he glotes, enjoys the facred feaft. 
 
 And proves himfelf by cruelty a prieft. 
 
 Whilft
 
 W I^ L L I A M H O G A R T II. 1 43 
 
 Whilft the weak Artift, to thy whims a Have,. 
 Would bury all thofe powVs which Nature gave, 
 Would fuffer blank concealment to obfcure 
 Thofe raysj thy Jealoufy could not endure \ 
 To feed thy vanity would rufl: unknown,.. 
 And to fecure thy credit blaft his own, 
 In Hogarth he was fure to find a friend ; 
 He could not fear, and therefore might commend- 
 But when his Spirit, rous'd by honeft Shame, 
 Shook off that Lethargy, and foar'd to Fame, 
 When, with the pride of Man, refolv'd and ftrong, 
 He fcorn'd thofe fears which did his Honour wrong. 
 And, on himfelf determined to rely. 
 Brought forth his labours to the public eye, 
 No Friend in Thee, could fuch a Rebel know; 
 He had defert, and Hogarth was his foe. 
 
 Souls of a tim'rous caft, of petty name 
 In Envy's court, not yet quite dead to fhame. 
 May fome Remorfe, fome qualms of Confcience feel, 
 And fuffer Honour to abate their Zeal, 
 But the Man, truly and compleatly great, 
 Allows no rule of adion but his hate ; 
 
 Thro'
 
 144 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Thro' ev'ry bar he bravely breaks his way, 
 Paffion his Priaciple, and Parts his prey. 
 Mediums in Vice and Virtue fpeak a mind 
 Within the pale of Temperance confin'd ; 
 The daring Spirit fcorns her narrow fchemes, 
 Andj good or bad, is always in extremes. 
 
 Man's practice duly weigh'd, thro' ev'ry age 
 On tlie lame plan hath Envy form'd her rage. 
 'Gainft thofc whom Fortune hath our rivals made 
 In way of Science, and in way of Trade, 
 Stung with mean Jealdufy fhe arms her fpite, 
 Firft works, then views their ruin with delight. 
 Our Hogarth here a grand improver lliines. 
 And nobly on the gen'ral plan refines; 
 He like himfelf, o'erleaps the fervile bound ; 
 Worth is his mark, wherever Vv^orth is found. 
 Should Painters only his vaft vi^rath fuffice ? 
 Genius in cv'ry walk is Lawful Prize. 
 'Tis a grofs infult to his o'crgrown ftate; 
 His love to merit is to leel his hate. 
 
 When Wilkes, our Countryman, our common friend, 
 Arofc, his King, hio Country to defend. 
 
 When
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 145 
 
 When tools of powV he bar'd to pubHc view, 
 And from their holes the fneaking cowards drew, 
 When Rancour found it far beyond her reach 
 To foil his honour, and his truth impeach, 
 What could induce Thee, at a time and place. 
 Where manly Foes had bluili'd to fhew their face. 
 To make that effort, which muft damn thy name, 
 And {ink Thee deep, deep in thy grave with fhame ? 
 Did Virtue move Thee ? no, 'twas Pride, rank Pride, 
 And if Thou hadft not done it. Thou had'ft dy'd. 
 Malice (who, difappointed of her end. 
 Whether to work the bane of Foe or Friend, 
 Preys on herfelf, and driven to the Stake, 
 Gives Virtue that revenge flie fcorns to take) 
 Had kiird Thee, tott'ring on life's utmoft verge, 
 Had Wilkes and Liberty efcap'd thy fcourge. 
 
 When that geat Charter, which our Fathers bought 
 With their beft blood, was into queftion brought; 
 When, big with ruin, o'er each Englifli head 
 Vile Slav'ry hung fufpended by a thread ; 
 When Liberty, all trembling and aghaft, 
 Fear'd for the future, knowing what was part; 
 
 U When
 
 146 EPISTLE TO 
 
 When ev'ry breaft was cliill'd with deep defpair, 
 Till Reafon pointed out that Pratt was there; 
 Lurking, moft Ruffian-like, behind a fcreen, 
 So plac'd all things to fee, himfelf unfeen, 
 Virtue, with due contempt, faw Hogarth fl:and> 
 The miird'rous pencil in his palfied hand. 
 What was the caufe of Liberty to him. 
 Or what was Honour ? let them iink or fwim> 
 So he may gratify, without controul, 
 The mean refentments of his felfifh foul. 
 Let Freedom perifli, if, to Freedom true. 
 In the fame ruin Wilkes may perifli too. 
 
 With all the fymptoms of afTur'd decay, 
 With age and ficknefs pinch'd, and worn away, 
 Pale quiv'ring Hps, lank cheeks, and fault'ring tongue, 
 The Spirits out of tune, the Nerves unftrung. 
 Thy Body flirivell'd up, thy dim eyes funk 
 Within their fockets deep, thy weak hams fhrunk 
 The body's weight unable to fuftain. 
 The ftream of life fcarce tremblino- thro' the vein, 
 More than half-kill'd by honeft truths, which fell, 
 Thro' thy own fault, from men who wifli'd thee well, 
 
 Can
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 147 
 
 Can'ft thou, e'en thus, thy thoughts to vengeance give, 
 And, dead to all things elfe, to Malice live ? 
 Hence, Dotard, to thy clofet, fliut thee in, 
 By deep repentance wafli away thy fin, 
 From haunts of men to fliame and forrow fly, 
 And, on the verge of death, learn how to die. • 
 
 Vain exhortation ! wafh the Ethiop white, 
 Difcharge the leopard's fpots, turn day to night, 
 Controul the courfe of Nature, bid the deep 
 Hufli at thy Pygmy voice her waves to fleep. 
 Perform things pafGng ftrange, yet own thy art 
 Too weak to work a change in fuch a heart. 
 That Envy, which was woven in the frame 
 At firfl, will to the laft remain the fame. 
 Reafon may droop, may die, but Envy's rage 
 Improves by time, and gathers ftrength from age. 
 Some, and not few, vain triflers with the pen. 
 Unread, unpradis'd in the ways of men. 
 Tell us that Envy, who with giant flride 
 Stalks thro' the vale of life by Virtue's fide, 
 Retreats when fhe hath drawn her lateft breath, 
 And calmly liears her praifes after death. 
 
 U 2 ' To
 
 148 EPISTLE TO 
 
 To fuch obfcrvers FIogarth gives the lie; 
 Worth may be hears'd, but Envy cannot die;. 
 Within the manlion of his gloomy breaft, 
 A manifiion fiiited well to fuch a gueft; 
 Immortal, unimpaired flie rears her head, 
 And damns alike the livingr and tlie dead.. 
 
 o 
 
 oft have I known Thee, Hogarth, weak and vain-,, 
 Thyfelf the idol of thy aukward ftrain, 
 Thro' the dull meafure of a fummer's day, 
 In phrafe mod vile, prate long long hours away, 
 Whilft Friends with Friends, all gaping fit, and gaze^, 
 To hear a Hogarth babble Hogarth's praife. 
 But if athwart thee Interruption came. 
 And mention'd with refped; fome Ancient's name,, 
 Some Ancient's name, who in the days of yore 
 The crown of Art with greateft honour wore,. 
 How have I feen thy coward cheek turn pale, 
 And blank confufion feize thy mangled tale ? 
 How hath thy Jealoufy to madnefs grown, 
 And deem'd his praife injurious to thy own ? 
 Then without mercy did thy wrath make w^ay^. 
 And Arts and Artifts all became thy prey ; 
 
 Then
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH, 149 
 
 Then didft Thou trample on eftablifli'd rules, 
 
 And proudly levell'd all the antient fchools, 
 
 Condemned thofe works, with praile thro' ages grac'd, 
 
 Which you had never feen, or could not tafte. 
 
 *' But would mankind have true Perfedlion (hewn, 
 
 " It muft be found in labours of my own. 
 
 " I dare to challenge in one Ungle piece, 
 
 " Th' united force of Italy and Greece." 
 
 Thy eager hand the curtain then undrew, 
 
 And brought the boafted Mafter-piece to view. 
 
 Spare thy remarks — fay not a fnigle word — 
 
 The Pidure feen, why is the Painter heard ? 
 
 Call not up Shame and Anger in our cheeks ;, 
 
 Without a Comment Sigismunda fpeaks. 
 
 Poor Sigismunda ! what a Fate is thine! 
 Dryden, the great High-Prieft of all the Nine, 
 Reviv'd thy name, gave what a Mufe could give^ 
 And in his Numbers bad thy MemVy live ; 
 Gave thee thofe foft fenfations, which might move 
 And warm the coldeft Anchorite to Love ; 
 Gave thee that Virtue, which could curb defire. 
 Refine and Confecrate Love's headftrong fire ; 
 
 Gave
 
 150 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Gave thee thofe griefs, which made the Stoic feel, 
 And caird compailion forth from hearts of fteel ; 
 Gave thee that firmncfs, which our Sex may fhame, 
 And make Man bow to Woman's jufter claim, 
 So that our tears, which from Compaffion flow. 
 Seem to debafe thy dignity of woe. 
 But O, how much unlike ! how falFn ! how chang'd ! 
 How much from Nature, and herfelf eftrang'd ! 
 How totally depriv'd of all the povv'rs 
 To fhew her feelings, and awaken our?. 
 Doth SiGisMUNDA now devoted ftand. 
 The helplefs vidim of a Dauber's hand ! 
 
 But why, my Hogarth, fuch a progrefs made. 
 So rare a Pattern for the Sign-Poft trade, 
 In the full force, and whirlwind of thy pride, 
 Why was Heroic Painting laid afide ? 
 WMiy is It not refum'd ? thy Friends at Court, 
 Men all in place and pow'r, crave thy fupport ; 
 Be greatful then for once, and, thro' the field 
 Of Politics, thy Epic Pencil wield, N 
 
 Maintain the caufe, v/hich they, good lack ! avow. 
 And would maintain too, but they know not how. 
 
 Thro' 
 
 T}
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 151 
 
 Thro' evVy Pannel let thy Virtue tell 
 How Bute prevail'd. How Pitt and Temple fell! 
 How England's fons (whom They confpir'd to blefs 
 Againft our Will, with infolent fuccefs) 
 Approve their fall, and with addreffes run, 
 How got, God knows, to hail the Scottish Sun? 
 Point out our fame in war, when Vengeance, hurFd 
 From the ftrong arm of Juftice, fliook the world \ 
 Thine, and thy Country's honour to encreafe, 
 Point out the honours of fucceeding Peace ; 
 Our Moderatio7iy Chriftian-like, difplay. 
 Shew, what we got, and what we gave away. 
 In Colours, dull and heavy as the tale, 
 Let a State-Q\\2.QZ thro' the whole prevail. 
 
 But, of events regardlefs, whilil: the Mufe, 
 Perhaps with too much heat, her theme purfues ; 
 Whilfk her quick Spirits rouze at Freedom's call, 
 And ev'ry drop of blood is turn'd to gall, 
 Whilft a dear Country, and an injur'd Friend, 
 Urge my ftrong anger to the bitt'reft end, 
 Whilft honeft trophies to revenge are rais'd 
 Let not One real Virtue pafs unprais'd. 
 
 Juftice
 
 152 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Juftice with equal courfe bids Satire flow. 
 And loves the Virtue of her greateft foe. 
 
 O ! that I here could that rare Virtue mean, 
 Which fcorns the rule of Envy, Pride and Spleen, 
 Which fprings not from the labour'd Works of Art, 
 But hath its rife from Nature in the heart. 
 Which in itfelf with happinefs is crown'd, 
 And fpreads with joy the blefling all around ! 
 But Truth forbids, and in thefe Ample lays. 
 Contented with a difF'rent kind of Praife, 
 Muft Hogarth ftand; that Praife which Genius giveSj 
 In Which to lateft time the Ai^tifi lives, 
 But not the Man\ which, rightly underftood, 
 May make Us great, but cannot make us good. 
 That Praife be Hogarth's ; freely let him wear 
 The Wreath which Genius wove, and planted there. 
 Foe as I am, fhould Envy tear it down, 
 Myfelf would labour to replace the Crown. 
 
 In walks of Humour, in that caft of Style, 
 Which, probing to the quick, yet makes us fmile; 
 In Comedy, his nat'ral road to fame. 
 Nor let mc call it by a meaner name, 
 
 Where
 
 WILL I AM H OG A R TH. 153 
 
 Where a beginning, middle, and an end 
 Are aptly joined; where parts on parts depend, 
 Each made for each, as bodies for their foul, 
 So as to form one true and perfecSb whole. 
 Where a plain ftory to the eye is told, 
 Which we conceive the moment we behold, 
 Hogarth unrivalfd ftands, and fhall eno-ao-e 
 UnrivaU'd praife to the moft diftant age. 
 
 How could'ft Thou then to Shame perverfely run, 
 And tread that path which Nature bad Thee fhun ? 
 Why did ambition overleap her rules, 
 And thy vaft parts become the fport of Fools ? 
 By dift'rent methods diff'rent Men excel. 
 But where is He, who can do all things well? 
 Humour thy Province, for fome monftrous crime 
 Pride ftruck Thee with the frenzy of Sublime, 
 But, when the work was finifli'd, could thy mind 
 So partial be, and to herfclf fo blind. 
 What with contempt All vievv'd, to view with awe, 
 Nor fee thofe faults which evVy Blockhead faw? 
 Blufh, Thou vain Man, and if defire of Fame, 
 Founded on real Art, thy thoughts inflame, 
 
 X Tq
 
 154 EPISTLE TO 
 
 To quick deftrudion Sigismunda give, 
 
 And let her meniVy die, that thine may live. 
 
 But fhould fond Candour, for her Mercy fake. 
 With pity view, and pardon this miftake ; 
 Or fliould ObHvion, to thy wifh moft kind, 
 "Wipe oiF that ftain, nor leave one trace behind ; 
 Of Arts defpisd^ of Artists by thy frown 
 j4wd from jujl hopes ^ of rifoig TVorth kept down^, 
 Of all thy meannefs thro' this mortal race, 
 Can'ft Thou the living memory erafe ? 
 Or fliall not Vengeance follow to the grave. 
 And give back juft that meafure which You gave? 
 With fo much merit, and fo much fuccefs, 
 With fo much pcw'r to curfe, fo much to blefs. 
 Would He have been Man's friend, inftcad of fce^. 
 Hogarth had been a little God below. 
 Why then, like favage Giants, fam'd of old, 
 Oi whom in Scripture Story we are told, 
 Doft Thou in cruelty that ftrength employ, 
 Which Nature meant to fave, not to deftroy ? 
 Why dofl Ihou, all in horrid pomp array'd. 
 Sit grinning o'er the ruins Thou haft made ? 
 
 Moft
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 155 
 
 Mofl rank Ill-nature muft applaud thy art ; 
 But even Candour muft condemn thy heart. 
 
 For Me, who warm and zealous for my Friend, 
 In fpite of railing thoufands, will commend, 
 And, no lefs warm and zealous 'gainft my foes, 
 Spite of commending thoufands, will oppofe, 
 I dare thy worft, with fcorn behold thy rage. 
 But with an eye of Pity view thy Age ; 
 Thy feeble Age, in which, as in a glafs, 
 We fee how Men to diffolution pafs. 
 Thou wretched Beings whom, on Reafon's plan, 
 So chang'd, fo loft, I cannot call a Man, 
 What could perfuade Thee, at this time of life, 
 To launch afrefh into the Sea of Strife ? 
 Better for Thee, fcarce crawling on the earth, 
 Almoft as much a child as at thy birth. 
 To have refign'd in peace thy parting breath. 
 And funk unnotic'd in the arms of Death. 
 Why would thy grey, grey hairs refentment brave, 
 Thus to go down with forrow to the grave ? 
 Now, by my Soul, it makes me blufli to know 
 My Spirits could defcend to fuch a foe. 
 
 X 2 Whatever
 
 156 EPISTLE TO 
 
 Whatever caiife the vengeance might provoke, 
 It feems rank Cowardice to give the ftroke. 
 
 Sure 'tis a curfe which angry Fates impofe. 
 To mortify man's arrogance, that Thofe 
 WhoVe faflriion'd of fome better fort of clay, 
 Much fooner than the common herd decay, 
 What bitter pangs muft humbled Genius feel. 
 In their laft hours, to view a Swift and Steele ? 
 How muft ill-boding horrors fill her breaft. 
 When She beholds Men, mark'd above the reft 
 For qualities moft dear, plung'd from tiiat height, 
 And funk, deep funk, in fecond Childhood's night? 
 Are Men, indeed, fuch things, and are the beft 
 More fubjecl to this evil, than the reft, 
 To drivel cut whole years of Ideot breath, 
 And fit the Monuments of living Death ? 
 O, galling circumftance to human pride ! 
 Abafing Thought, but not to be denied ! 
 With curious Art the Brain too finely wrought, 
 Preys on herfelf, and is deftroy'd by Thought. 
 Conftant Attention wears the adlive mind. 
 Blots out her pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind. 
 
 But
 
 WILLIAM HOGARTH. 157 
 
 But let not Youth, to infolence allied. 
 
 In heat of blood, in full career of pride, 
 
 Poflefs'd of Genius, with unhallow'd rage. 
 
 Mock the infirmities of rev' rend age. 
 
 The greateft Genius to this Fate may bow; 
 
 Reynolds, in time, may be like Hogarth now. 
 
 THE
 
 T H E 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 IN FOUR BOOKS.
 
 THE 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 BOOK 1. 
 
 I T H eager fearch to dart the foul, 
 Curioufly vain, from Pole to Pole, 
 And from the Planets wand'ring fpheres 
 T'extort the number of our years, 
 And whether all thofe years fhall flow 
 Serenely fmooth, and free from woe, 
 Or rude Misfortune fhall deform 
 Our life, with one continual ftorm ; 
 
 Our
 
 i62 THE GHOST. 
 
 Or if ihe Scene (liall motly be, 
 Alternate Joy and Mifery, 
 Is a delire, which, more or lefs. 
 All Men muft feel, tho' few confefs. 
 
 Hence, ev'ry place and evVy age 
 Affords fubfiflience to the Sage, 
 Who, free from this world and its cares. 
 Holds an acquintance with the Stars, 
 From whom he gains intelligence 
 Of things to come fome ages hence, 
 Which unto friends, at eafy rates. 
 He readily communicates. 
 
 At its firfl: rife, which all agree on, 
 This noble Science was Chaldean, 
 That antient people, as they fed 
 Their flocks upon the Mountain's head, 
 Gaz'd on the Stars, obferv'd their motions, 
 And fuck'd in Aftrologic notions. 
 Which they fo eagerly purfue. 
 As folks are apt vvhate'er is new, 
 That things below at random rove, 
 Whilft they're confulting things above; 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 163 
 
 And when they now fo poor were grown, 
 That they'd no houfes of their own, 
 They made bold with their friends the Stars, 
 And prudently made iife of theirs. 
 
 To Egypt from Chaldee it travell'd, 
 And Fate at Memphis was imravelFd, 
 Th'exotic Science foon ftruck root, 
 And flourifh'd into high repute. 
 Each learned Prieft, O ftrange to tell ! 
 Could circles make, and caft a fpell; 
 Could read and write, and taught the Nation 
 The holy art of Divination. 
 Nobles themfelves, for at that time 
 Knowledo;e in Nobles was no crime, 
 Could talk as learned as the Priefl, 
 And prophefie as much at IcA 
 Hence all the fortune-telling Crew, 
 Whofe crafty ikill marrs Nature's hue. 
 Who, in vile tatters, with fmiich'd lace, 
 Run up and dov/n from place to place. 
 To gratify their friends' defires, 
 From Bampfield Carew, to Moll Squires^ 
 
 Y 2 Are
 
 i64 THE GHOST. 
 
 Are rightly termed Egyptians all; 
 Whom we, miftaking, Gypsies call. 
 
 The Grecian Sages borrow'd this, 
 As they did other Sciences, 
 From fertile Egypt, tho' the loan 
 They had not honefty to own. 
 Dodona's Oaks, infpir'd by Jove, 
 A learned and prophetic Grove, 
 Tiirn'd vegetable Necromancers, 
 And to all comers gave their anfwers ; 
 At Delphos, to Apollo dear. 
 All men the voice of Fate micrht hear: 
 Each fubtle Prieft on three-legg'd ftool, 
 To take in wife men, play'd the fooL 
 A Myflcry, fo made for gain, 
 E'en now in fafhion muft ^ ^main. . 
 Enthufiafts never will let drop 
 What brings fuch bulinefs to their fhop, 
 And that Great Saint, we Whitfield call. 
 Keeps up the Humbug Spiritual. 
 
 Among the Romans, not a Bird, . 
 Without a Prophecy, was heard \ 
 
 Fortunes
 
 THE G H O S T. 165 
 
 Fortunes of Empires often hung 
 
 On the Magician Magpye's tongue. 
 
 And ev'ry Crow was to the State 
 
 A fure interpreter of Fate. 
 
 Prophets, embodied in a College^ 
 
 (Time out of mind your feat of knowledge. 
 
 For Genius never fruit can bear 
 
 Unlefs it firfl: is planted there, 
 
 And folid learning never falls 
 
 Without the verge of College walls) 
 
 Infallible accounts would keep 
 
 When it was beft to watch or fleep, 
 
 To eat or drink, to go or ftay, 
 
 And when to fight or run away, 
 
 When matters were for adlion ripe, 
 
 By looking at a double tripe \ 
 
 When Errtperors would live or die 
 
 They in an Afss fcull could fpy ; 
 
 When Gen'rals would their ftation keep, 
 
 Or turn their backs, /;; hearts of peep. 
 
 In matters, whether fmall or great. 
 
 In private families or ftate. 
 
 As amongft us, the holy Seer 
 
 Oflicioufly would interfere, 
 
 With
 
 i66 THE GHOST. 
 
 With pious arts and rev Vend fkill 
 Would bend Lay Bigots to his will, 
 Would help or injure foes or friends, 
 Juft as it ferv'd his private ends. 
 Whether, in honeft way of trade, 
 Traps for Virginity were laid, 
 Or if, to make their party great, 
 Dcfigns were form'd againfl; the State, 
 Reo-ardlefs of the Common Weal, 
 By Int'reft led, v/hich they call zeal. 
 Into the fcale was always thrown, 
 Thp will of Heav'n to back their own. 
 
 England, a happy land we know^ 
 Where Follies naturally grow, 
 Where without Culture they arife. 
 And tow'r above the common fize ; 
 England, a fortune-telling hoft, 
 As numerous as the Stars, could boaft, 
 Matrons, who tofs the Cup, and fee 
 The grounds of Fate in grounds of Tea, 
 Who versM in ev'ry modcft lore,, 
 Can a loft Maidenhead reftore. 
 
 Or
 
 THE GHOST. 167 
 
 Or, if their Pupils rather chufe it, 
 
 Can fliew the readieft way to lofe it; 
 
 Gypsies, who ev'ry ill can cure. 
 
 Except the ill of being poor, 
 
 Who charms 'gainft Love and Agues fell, 
 
 Who can in hen-rooft fet a fpell, 
 
 Prepar'd by arts, to them beft known, 
 
 To catch all feet except their own, 
 
 Who as to fortune can unlock it, 
 
 As eafily as pick a pocket; 
 
 Scotchmen who, in their Country's right, 
 
 Poffefs the gift oi fecond-fight^ 
 
 Who (when their barren heaths they quit, 
 
 Sure argument of prudent wit. 
 
 Which reputation to maintain, 
 
 They never venture back again) 
 
 By lyes prophetic heap up riches, 
 
 And boafl: the luxury of breeches. 
 
 Among the reft, in former years, 
 Campbell, illuftrious name, appears, 
 Great Hero of futurity. 
 Who hl'md could ev'ry thing forefee^ 
 
 Who
 
 i68 THE GHOST. 
 
 Who dumb could ev'ry thing foretell^ 
 Who, Fate with equity to fell, 
 Always dealt out the will of Heaven, 
 According to what price was given. 
 
 Of Scottish race, in Highlands born, 
 Poffefs'd with native pride and fcorn> 
 He hither came, by cuftom led. 
 To curfe the hands which gave him bread. 
 With want of truth, and want of fenfc, 
 Amply made up by impudence, 
 (A fuccedafieum^ which we find 
 In common ufe with all mankind) 
 Carefs'd and favoured too by thofe, 
 Whofe heart with Patriot feelings glows. 
 Who FOOLISHLY, whcrc'cr difpers'd, 
 Still place their native Country firft ; 
 (For Englishmen alone have fenfe, 
 To give a JJranger preference, 
 Whilft modeft merit of their own, 
 Is left in poverty to groan) 
 Campbell foretold, juft what he wou'd, 
 And left the Stars to make it good ; 
 
 On
 
 THE GHOST. 169 
 
 On whom he had imprefs'd fuch awe. 
 
 His didates current pafs'd for Law; 
 
 Submiflive all his Empire own'd ; 
 
 No Star durfl: fnlile, when Campbell frown'd. 
 
 This Sage deceased, for all muft die, 
 And Campbell's no more fafe than I, 
 No more than I can guard the heart, 
 When Death fliall hurl the fatal dart, 
 Succeeded, ripe in art and years, 
 Another fav'rite of the fpheres. 
 Another and Another came, 
 Of equal fkill, and equal fame; 
 As white each wand, as black each gown, 
 As long each beard, as wife each frown. 
 In ev'ry thing fo like, you'd fwear, 
 Campbell himfelf was fitting there. 
 To all the happy Art was known, 
 To tell our fortunes, make their own. 
 
 Seated in Garret, for you know, 
 The nearer to the Stars we go. 
 The greater we efteem his art. 
 Fools curious flock'd from ev'ry part. 
 
 Z The
 
 I/O 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 The Rich, the Poor, the Maid, the Married, 
 And thofe who could not walk, were carried. 
 
 The Butler, hanging down his head. 
 By Chamber-Maid^ or Cook- Maid led. 
 Enquires, if from his friend the Moon, 
 He has advice of pilfer'd fpoon. 
 
 The Court-bred Woman of condition, 
 (Who, to approve her difpofition 
 As much fuperior, as her birth, 
 To thofe compos'd of common earth. 
 With double fpirit muft engage 
 In ev'ry folly of the age) 
 The hojjourable arts would buy, 
 To pack the Cards, and cog a Die. 
 
 The Hero (who for brawn and face 
 May claim right honourable place 
 Amongft the chiefs of Bittcher-Row^ 
 Who might fome thirty years ago, 
 If we may be allow'd to guefs 
 At his employment by his drefs, 
 
 Put
 
 THE GHOST. 171 
 
 Put medicines off from cart or ftage, 
 
 The grand Toscano of the age, 
 
 Or might about the countries go. 
 
 High Steward of a Puppet-fhew, 
 
 Steward and JiewardJJjtp moji meet^ 
 
 For all know puppets never eat \ 
 
 Who would be thought, (tho', fave the mark. 
 
 That point is fomething in the dark) 
 
 iJje Man of Honour^ one Hke thofe 
 
 Renown'd in ftory, who lov'd blows 
 
 Better than viduals, and would fight, 
 
 Merely for fport, from morn to night ; 
 
 Who treads like Mayors firm, whofe tongue, 
 
 Is with the tripple thunder hung, 
 
 Who cries to fear — ftand off — aloof — 
 
 And talks as he were cannon-proof. 
 
 Would be deem'd ready, when you lift, 
 
 With fword and piftol, ftick and fift, 
 
 Carelefs of points, balls, bruifes, knocks. 
 
 At once to fence, fire, cudgel, box, 
 
 But at the fame time b^irs about. 
 
 Within himfelf, fome touch of doubt. 
 
 Of prude?jt doubt, which hints — that flimc 
 
 Is nothing but an empty name ; 
 
 Z 2 That
 
 172 THE GHOST. 
 
 That life is rightly underftood 
 
 By all to be a real good ; 
 
 That, even in a Hero s heart, 
 
 D'lferetion is the better part; 
 
 That this fame Honour may be won, 
 
 And yet no kind of danger run) 
 
 Like Drugger comes, that magic pow'rs 
 
 May afcertain his hicky hours. 
 
 For at fome hours the fickle dame. 
 
 Whom Fortune properly we name, 
 
 Who ne'er confiders wrong or right, 
 
 When wanted mofl, plays leaft in fight, 
 
 And, like a modern Court-bred jilt, 
 
 Leaves her chief fav'rites in a tilt. 
 
 Some hours there are, when from the heart 
 
 Courage into fome other part. 
 
 No matter wherefore, makes retreat, 
 
 And fear ufurps the vacant feat ; 
 
 Whence planet-Jlruck we often find, 
 
 Stuarts and Sackvilles of mankind. 
 
 Farther he'd know (and by his art 
 A conjurer can that impart) 
 
 Whether
 
 THE GHOST, 173 
 
 Whether politer it is reckon'd 
 To have or not to have a fecond, 
 To drag the friends in, or alone 
 To make the danger all their own; 
 Whether repletion is not bad. 
 And fighters with full ftomachs mad; 
 Whether before he feeks the plain, 
 It v^ere not w^ell to breathe a vein ; 
 Whether a gentle falivation, 
 Confiftently with reputation, 
 Might not of precious ufe be found. 
 Not to prevent indeed a wound, 
 But to prevent the confequence 
 Which oftentimes arifes thence, 
 Thofe fevers, which the patient urge on 
 To gates of death, by help of furgeon ; 
 Whether a wind at eaft or weft 
 Is for green wounds accounted beft ; 
 Whether (was he to chufe) his mouth 
 Should point towards the north or fouth ; 
 Whether more fafcly he might ufe, 
 On thefe occafions, pumps or flioes ; 
 Whether it better is to fight. 
 By Su7t-Jhi?2e^ or by Candle-light', 
 
 Or
 
 174 THE GHOST. 
 
 Or (left a candle fliould appear 
 Too mean tx) fLine in fuch a fphere, 
 For who could of a candle tell 
 To light a hero into hell, 
 And left the Sim fliould partial rife 
 To dazzle one or toother's eyes, 
 Or one or t'other's brains to fcorch) 
 Might not Dame Luna hold a torch? 
 
 Thefe points with dignity difcufs'd. 
 And gravely fix'd, a tafk which muft 
 Require no little time and pains, 
 To make our hearts friends with our brains, 
 The Mail of War would next engage 
 The kind afliftance of the fage, 
 Some previous method to direct, 
 Which fhould make thefe of none cffed. 
 
 Could he not, from the myftic fchool 
 Of art, produce fome facred rule. 
 By which a knowledge might be got, 
 Whether men valiant were, or not. 
 So he that challenQ-cs mi2;ht write 
 Only to thofe who would not fight ? 
 
 Or
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 Or could he not, fame way difpenfe, 
 By help of which (without offence 
 To Ho?2our^ whofe nice nature's fuch, 
 She fcarce endures the flighteft touch) 
 When he for want of t'other rule 
 Miftakes his man, and, like a fool, 
 With fome vain fighting blade gets in, 
 He fairly may get out again ? 
 
 Or, fhould fome Daemon lay a fcheme 
 To drive him to the laft extreme. 
 So that he muft confefs his fears, 
 In mercy to his nofe and ears, 
 And like a prudent recreant knight; 
 Rather do any thing than fight, 
 Could he not fome expedient buy 
 To keep his fhame from public eye ? 
 For well he held, and, men review. 
 Nine in ten hold the maxim too, 
 That Honour's like a Makleii-head^ 
 Which if in private brought to bed. 
 Is none the worfe, but walks the town, 
 Ne'er loft, until the lofs be known. 
 
 ^IS 
 
 The
 
 176 THE GHOST. 
 
 The Parson too (for now and then, 
 Parsons are ju ft like other men, 
 And here and there a grave Divine 
 Has paflions fuch as your's and mine) 
 Burning with holy luft to know 
 When Fate Preferment will beftow, 
 'Fraid of detection, not of fin, 
 With circumfpedion fneaking in 
 To Confrer^ as he does to Whore^ 
 Thro' fome bye Alley, or Back-door, 
 With the fame caution Orthodox^ 
 Confults the Stars^ and gets a Pox. 
 
 The Citizen, in fraud grown old. 
 Who knows no Deity but Gold, 
 Worn out, and gafping now for breath, 
 A Med'cine wants to keep off Death ; 
 Would know, if that he cannot have. 
 What Coins are current in the grave; 
 If, when the Stocks (which by his pow'r, 
 Would rife or fall in half an hour, 
 For, tho' unthought of and unfeen, 
 He work'd the fprings behind the fcreen) 
 
 By
 
 THE GHOST. 177 
 
 By his dire<3:ions came about. 
 And rofe to Par^ he fhould fell out ; 
 Whether he fafely might, or no, 
 Replace it in the Funds below. 
 
 By all addrefs'd, believ'd, and paid, 
 Many purfu'd the thriving trade. 
 And, great in reputation grown, 
 Succeffive held the Magic throne. 
 Favoured be ev'ry darling paflion, 
 The love of Novelty and Fafhion, 
 Ambition, Av'rice, Luft, and Pride, 
 Riches pour'd in on ev'ry fide. 
 But u^hen the prudejit Lav7S thought fit 
 To curb this infolcnce of Wit ; 
 When Senates wifely had Provided, 
 Decreed, Enabled, and Decided, 
 That no fuch vile and upftart elves 
 Should have more knowledge than themfelves ; 
 When Fines and penalties were laid 
 To ftop the progrefs of the trade, 
 And Stars no longer could difpenfe. 
 With honour^ farther influence, 
 
 A a And
 
 178 THE G H O S T, 
 
 And Wizards (which muft be confcft 
 Was of more force than all the reft) 
 No certain way to tell had got, 
 Which were Informers, and which not; 
 Afirightcd Sages were, perforce, 
 Oblig'd to ftcer fome other courfe.. 
 By various ways, thefe So?2s of Chance 
 Their Fortunes laboured to advance, 
 W'^ell knowing, by unerring rules, 
 Knaves ftarve not in the Land of Fooh^ 
 
 Some, with high Titles and Degrees, 
 Which wife Men borrow when they pleafe^ 
 Without or trouble or expence, 
 Physicians inftantly commence, 
 And proudly boaft an equal fkill 
 With thofe who claim the right to kilL 
 
 Others about the Countries roam, 
 (For not one thought of going ho?neJ 
 With piftol and adopted leg 
 Prepared at once to rob or beg. 
 
 Some
 
 THE GHOST. .179 
 
 Some, the more fiibtle of their race, 
 (Who felt fome touch of Coward Grace, 
 Who Tyburn to avoid had wit, 
 But never fear'd deferving it) 
 Came to their B?'other Smollet's aid, 
 And carried on the Critic trade. 
 
 Attach'd to Letters and the Mufe, 
 Some Verfes wrote, and fome wrote News. 
 Tkofe^ each revolving Month, are feen, 
 The Heroes of a Magcizi7te\ 
 Thefe^ ev'ry morning, great appear, 
 In Ledger, or in Gazetteer; 
 Spreading the falfhoods of the day. 
 By turns for Faden and for Say ; 
 Like Swiss, their force is ahvays laid 
 On that fide where they beft are paid. 
 Hence mighty Prodigies arife. 
 And daily Monsters ftrike our eyes; 
 Wonders^ to propagate the trade. 
 More ftrange than ever Baker made, 
 Are hawk'd about from ftreet to ftreet. 
 And Fools believe, whilft Liars eat. 
 
 A a 2 Now
 
 i8o THE GHOST. 
 
 Now armies in the air engage, 
 To fright a fuperftitious age ; 
 Now Comets thro' the JEthcr range, 
 In Governments portending change ; 
 Now rivers to the Ocean fly. 
 So quick they leave their channels dry ; 
 Now monftrous Whales, on Lambeth fliore, 
 Drink the Thames dry, and thirft for more; 
 And ev'ry now and then appears 
 An Irish Savage numb'ring years 
 More than thofe happy Sages cou'd. 
 Who drew their breath before the flood. 
 Now, to the wonder ot all people, 
 A Church is left without a Steeple \ 
 A Steeple now is left in lurch. 
 And mourns departure of the Chtij'ch^ 
 Which, borne on wings of mighty wind^ 
 Remov'd a furlong off we find. 
 Now, wrath on Cattle to difcharge, 
 Hailftones as deadly fall, and large 
 As thofe which were on Egypt fent. 
 At once their crime and punifhment. 
 Or thofe which, as the Prophet writes, 
 Fell on the necks of Amorites, 
 
 Wh 
 
 en,
 
 THE GHOST. i8i 
 
 When, ftruck with wonder and amaze, 
 The Sun fufpended, ftay'd to gaze, 
 And, from her duty longer kept. 
 
 In AjALON his Sifter flept. 
 
 But if fuch things no more engage 
 The Tafte of a poHter age. 
 To help them out in time of need 
 Another Tofts muft Rabbits breed. 
 Each pregnant Female trembling hears. 
 And, overcome with fpleen and fears, 
 Confults her faithful glafs no more, 
 But madly bounding o'er the floor, 
 Feels hairs all o'er her body grow. 
 By Fancy turn'd into a Doe. 
 
 Now to promote their private ends. 
 Nature her ufual courfe fufpends. 
 And varies from the ftated plan 
 Obferv'd e'er flnce the World began. 
 Bodies^ (which foolifhly we thought. 
 By Cuftom's fervile maxims taught, 
 Needed a regular fupply. 
 And without nourifhment muft die) 
 
 With
 
 T I-I E GHOST. 
 
 102 
 
 With craving appetites, and (cnk 
 
 Of Hunger eafily difpenfe, 
 
 And, pliant to t/jeir v/ond'rous fid!!, 
 
 Arc taiiglit, lilie ^iL^afches^ to ftand ftill 
 
 UrJ?ijurd^ for a montli or naore ; 
 
 ^Ihc7i go en as t!iey did before. 
 
 Tlie Novel tak.es, tlie Ta!e fucceeds, 
 
 An-ip!y fupplies its autlior's needs, 
 
 And Betty Canning is at leaft, 
 
 With Gascoyne's help, a fix montlis feafi:. 
 
 Whilft in contempt of al! our pains, 
 The Tyrant Superstition reigns 
 Imperious in the heart of Man, 
 And warps his thoughts from Nature's plan ; 
 Whilft fond Credulity, who ne'er 
 The weight of wholefonie doubts could bear, 
 To Reafon and Herfelf unjuft, 
 Takes all things blindly up on truft; 
 Whilft Curiosity, whofe rage 
 No Mercy ihews to Sex or Age, 
 Muft be indulged at the cxpence 
 Of Judgment^ Truths and Common Se7ife \ 
 
 Impoftures
 
 THE G FI O S T. 183 
 
 Impoftures cannot but prevail, 
 And when old Miracles grow ftale, 
 Jugglers will jflill the art purfue. 
 And entertain the world with Neiv. 
 
 For Them, obedient to their will, 
 And trembling at their mighty {kill, 
 Sad Spirits, fummon'd from the tomb. 
 Glide glaring ghaftly thro' the gloom. 
 In all the ufual Pomp of ftorms, 
 In horrid cuflomary forms, 
 A Wolf, a Bear, a Horfe, an Ape, 
 As Fear and Fancy give them fhape. 
 Tormented with defpair and pain. 
 They roar, they yell, and clank the chain. 
 Folly and Guilt (ror Guilt, hovve'er 
 The face of Courage it may wear. 
 Is ftill a Coward at the heart) 
 At fear-created phantoms flart. 
 The Priest, that very word implies 
 That he's both innocent and wife. 
 Yet fears to travel in the dark, 
 Unlefs efcorted by his Clerk. 
 
 B4lt
 
 i84 THE GHOST. 
 
 But let not evVy Bungler deem 
 Too lightly of fo deep a fcheme. 
 For reputation of the Art^ 
 Each Ghost muft ad a proper part, 
 Obferve Decorujns needful grace, 
 And keep the laws of T'ime and PlacCy 
 Muft change, with happy variation, 
 His manners with his fltuation. 
 What in the Country might pafs down. 
 Would be impertinent in Town. 
 No Spirit of difcretion here 
 Can think of breeding awe and fear, 
 'Twill ferve the purpofe more by half 
 To make the Congregation laugh. 
 We want no enligns of furprize. 
 Locks ftifF with gore, and fawcer eyes, 
 Give lis an entertaining Sprite^ 
 Gentle, Familiar, and Polite, 
 One who appears in fuch a form 
 As might an holy Hermit warm. 
 Or who on former fchemes refines. 
 And only talks by founds and ngns, 
 W^iio will not to the eye appear, 
 But pays her viiits to the ear. 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 185 
 
 And knocks fo gently, 'twould not fright 
 
 A Lady in the darkeft Night. 
 
 Such is Our Fanmy, whofe good will. 
 
 Which cannot in the Grave lie llill, 
 
 Brings her on Earth to entertain 
 
 Her friends and Lovers in Cock-Lane. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 B b THE
 
 THE 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 Sacred ftandard Rule we find 
 
 By Poets held time out of mind, 
 To ofFer at Apollo's flirine, 
 And call on One, or All the Nine. 
 
 This Cuftom, thro' a Bigoi zeal, 
 Which Moderns oi fiiie Tajie muft feel 
 For thofe who wrote in days of yore, 
 Adopted ftands like many more, 
 
 B b 2 Tho'
 
 i88 THE GHOST, 
 
 Tho' ev'ry Caufe, which then confpir'd 
 To make it pradis'd and admir'd, 
 Yieldino: to Time's deftrudlive courfe. 
 For ages paft hath loft its force. 
 
 With antknt Bai'ds, an Invocation 
 Was a true adl of Adoration, 
 Of Worfhip an eflential part, 
 And not a formal piece of Art, 
 Of paultry reading a Parade, 
 A dull folemnity in trade^ 
 A pious Fever, taught to burn 
 An hour or two, to ferve a turn. 
 
 They talk'd net of Castalian Springs, 
 By way ot: faying pretty things^ 
 As we drefs out our flimfy Rhimes ; 
 'Twas the Religion of the Twies^ 
 And they believ'd that holy ftream 
 With Q-reater force made Fancy teem, 
 Reckoned by all a true fpecific 
 To make the barren brain prolific, 
 Thus Romish Church (a fcheme which bears 
 Not half fo much excufe as theirs) 
 
 Since
 
 THE GHOST. 189 
 
 Since Faith hnplicitly hath taught her, 
 Reveres the force of Holy Water, 
 
 The Pagan System, whether true 
 Or falfe, its ftrength, hke Buildi?igs^ drew 
 From many parts difpos'd to bear 
 In one great Whole, their proper fhare. 
 Each God of emifzeitt decrree. 
 To fome vaft Bea?n compared might be; 
 Each GoDLiMG was a Peg^ or rather 
 A Cramps to keep the Beams together; 
 And Man as fafcly might pretend 
 From Jove the thimder-bolt to rend^ 
 As with an impious pride afpire 
 To rob Apollo of his Lyre, 
 
 With fettled faith and pious awe, 
 EftabHfh'd by the voice of Law, 
 Then Poets to the Muses came, 
 And from their Altars cauo-ht the flame. 
 
 o 
 
 Genius, with Phoebus for his guide, 
 The Muse afccnding by his fide. 
 With tow'ring pinions dar'd to foar, 
 Where eye could fcarcely ftrain before. 
 
 But
 
 iQO THE GHOST. 
 
 But why fhould We, who cannot feel 
 Thefe glowings of a Pagan zeal, 
 That wild e72thiifia[iic force, 
 Bv which, above licr common courfe, 
 Nature in Rxfiacy up-borne, 
 Look'd down on earthly things with fcorn ; 
 JVho have no more regard, 'tis known, 
 For their Religion than otir owjt^ 
 And feel not half fo fierce a flame 
 At Clio's as at Fisher's name; 
 TFho know thefe boafted f acred Jlr earns 
 Were mere romantic idle dreams. 
 That Thames has waters clear as thofe 
 Which on the top of Find us rofe, 
 And that the Fancy to refine, 
 Water's not half fo aood as Wine; 
 Who know, if Profit fcrikes our eye. 
 Should we drink Helicon quite dry, 
 Th' Vv'hole fountain would not thither lead 
 So ibon as one poor jug from Tweed ; 
 JVho^ if to raife poetic fire. 
 The Pow'r of Beauty we require. 
 In any public place can view 
 More than the Grecians ever knew ; 
 
 \i
 
 THE GHOST. 191 
 
 If Wit into the fcale is thrown, 
 Can boafl: a Lenox of our own; 
 Why fhould we fervile cuftoms chufe, 
 And court an afitiquated Muje ? 
 No matter why — to afk a Reafon 
 In Pedant Bigotry is Treafon. 
 
 In the broad, beaten, turnpike-road 
 Of hachieyd Paiugyric Ode^ 
 No Modern Poet dares to ride 
 Without Apollo by his fide. 
 Nor in a Somiet take the air, 
 Unlefs his Lady Mufe be there. 
 She, from fome Amaranthiite grove,. 
 Where little Loves and Graces rove, 
 The Laurel to my Lord muft bear. 
 Or Garlands make for Whores to wear ;, 
 She, with foft Elegiac verfe, 
 Muft grace fome mighty Villain s herfe. 
 Or for fome Infant^ doom'd by Fate 
 To wallow in a large eftate. 
 With Rhimes the Cradle muft adorn, 
 To tell the World a Fool is born. 
 
 Since
 
 '% 
 
 1^2 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Since then our Critic Lords exped 
 No hardy Poet flioul rejed 
 Eftablifli'd maxims, or prefume 
 To place much better in their room, 
 By Nature fearful, I fubmit. 
 And in this dearth of Senfe and VVit^ 
 With nothing done, and liitle /aid, 
 (By wild excurfive Fancy led, 
 Into a fccond Book thus far, ' 
 Like fome unwary Traveller^ 
 Whom varied fcenes of wood and lawn 
 
 With treacherous delight, have drawn 
 
 Deluded from his purposed way ; 
 
 Whom ev'ry ftep leads more aftray ; 
 
 Who gazing round can no where fpy. 
 
 Or houfe, or friendly cottage nigh, 
 
 And refolution fecms to lack 
 
 To venture forward or go back) 
 
 Invoke fome Goddess to defcend, 
 
 And help ilie to my journey's end. 
 
 Tho' confcious Arrow all the wdiilcj 
 
 Hears the petition with a fmile. 
 
 Before the o-lafs her charms unfolds. 
 
 And in herfelf my Mi'Je beholds. 
 
 Truth
 
 THE G H O S T. 193 
 
 Truth, Goddess of celeftial birth, 
 But little lov'd, or known on earth, 
 Whofe pow'r but feldom rules the heart, 
 Whofe name, with hypocritic art^ 
 An errant ftalking horfe is made, 
 A fnug pretence, to drive a trade. 
 An inftrument convenient grown 
 To plant, more firmly, Fa ls hood's throne^ . 
 As Rebels varnifli o'er their caufe 
 With fpecious colouring of Laws, 
 And pious Traitors draw the knife 
 In the King's Name againft his life^ 
 Whether (from Cities far away, 
 Where Fraud and Faljhood fcorn thy fway) 
 The faithful Nymph's and Shepherd's pride, 
 With Love and Virtue by thy fide, 
 Your hours in harmlefs joys are fpent 
 Amongft the Children of Content; 
 Or, fond of gaiety and fport. 
 You tread the round of England's Court, 
 Howe'er my Lord may frowning go, 
 And treat the Stranger as a Foe^ 
 Sure to be found a welcome gueft 
 In George's and in Charlotte's breaft ; 
 
 C c If,
 
 194 THE GHOST. 
 
 If, in the giddy hours of Youth, 
 My conftant foul adhered to Truth; 
 If, from the Time I firft wrote Man, 
 I ftill purf ''d thy facred plan. 
 Tempted by Interefl: in vain 
 To wear mean Falfhood's golden chain ; 
 If, for a feafon drawn away, 
 Starting from Virtue's path aftray, 
 All low difguife I fcorn'd to try, 
 And dar'd to fin, but not to lye ; 
 Hither, O hither, condefcend. 
 Eternal Truth, thy fteps to bend, 
 And favour Him^ who ev'ry hour 
 Confeffes and obeys thy pow'r ! 
 
 But come not with that eafy mien, 
 By which you won the lively Dean, 
 Nor yet affume that Strumpet air. 
 Which Rabellais taught Thee firft to wear, 
 Nor yet that arch ambiguous face. 
 Which with Cervantes gave thee grace, 
 But come in facred vefture clad. 
 Solemnly dull, and truly fad ! 
 
 Far
 
 THE GHOST. 195 
 
 Far from thy feemly Matron train 
 Be Ideot Mirth, and Laughter vain! 
 For Wit and Humour, which pretend 
 At once to pleafe us and amend, 
 They are not for my prefent turn, 
 Let them remain in France with Sterne. 
 
 Of Nobleft City Parents born, 
 Whom Wealth and Dignities adorn. 
 Who ftill one conftant tenor keep, 
 Not quite awake, nor quite afleep. 
 With Thee, let formal Dullness come. 
 And deep Attention, ever dumb, 
 Who on her lips her fingers lays, 
 Whilft every circumftance fhe weighs, 
 Whofe down-caft Eye is often found 
 Bent without motion to the ground. 
 Or, to fome outward thing confin'd, 
 Remits no image to the mind. 
 No pregnant mark of meaning bears. 
 But ftupid without Vifion ftares; 
 Thy fteps let Gravity attend, 
 Wifdo7n\ and Truth's unerring friend. 
 
 C c 2 For
 
 igG THE GHOST. 
 
 For One may fee with half an eye, 
 That Gravity can never lye ; 
 And his arch'd brow, pulFd o'er his eyes, 
 With folemn proof proclaims him li^ife. 
 
 "Free from all waggeries and fports, 
 The produce of luxurious Courts ^ 
 Where Sloth and Luft enervate Youth, 
 Come Z?>(?^, a down-right City Truth; 
 The City, which we ever find 
 A fober pattern for Mankind, 
 Where Man^ in Equlibrio hung, 
 Is feldom Old, and never Young, 
 And from the Cradle to the Grave, 
 Not Virtue's friend, nor Vice's Have ; 
 As Dancers on the Wire we fpy, 
 Hanging between the Earth and Sky. 
 
 She comes — I fee her from afar 
 Bending her courfe to "Temple-Bar : 
 All fage and filent is her train. 
 Deportment grave, and garments plain. 
 Such as may fuit a Pa?^Jons wear. 
 And fit the Head-piece of a Major, 
 
 By
 
 THE GHOST. 197 
 
 By Truth infpir'd, our Bacon's force 
 Open'd the way to Learning's fource ; 
 Boyle thro' the works of Nature ran; 
 And Newton, fomething more than Man, 
 Div'd into Nature's hidden fprings, 
 Laid bare the principles of things, 
 Above the earth our fpirits bore. 
 And gave us Worlds unknown before. 
 By Truth infpir'd, when Lauder\ ipight 
 O'er Milton caft the Veil of Night, 
 Douglas arofe, and thro' the maze 
 Of intricate and winding ways, 
 Came where the fubtle Traitor lay, 
 And dragg'd him trembling to the day ; 
 Whilft He (O fliame to nobleft parts, 
 Difhonour to the Lib'ral Arts, 
 To traffic in fo vile a fcheme !) 
 Whilft He, our Letter d Polypheme, 
 Who had Co77fed^ rate forces join'd. 
 Like a bafe Coward, fkulk'd behind. 
 By Truth infpir'd, our Critics go 
 To track Fingal in Highla?id fnovv. 
 To form their own and others Creed 
 From Manufcripts they cannot read. 
 
 By
 
 198 THE GHOST- 
 
 By Truth infpir'd, we numbers fee 
 
 Of each Profeffion and Degree, 
 
 GLHtle and Simple, Lord and Cit, 
 
 Wit without wealth, wealth without wit 5 
 
 When Punch and Sheridan have done, 
 
 To Fanny's Ghojlly Le&ures run; 
 
 By Truth and Fanny now infpir'd, 
 
 I feel my glowing bofom fir'd ; 
 
 Defire beats high in evVy vein 
 
 To fing the Spirit of Cock-Lane; 
 
 To tell (juft as the meafure flows 
 
 In halting rhime, half verfe, half profe) 
 
 With more than mortal arts endu'd, 
 
 How She united force withftood. 
 
 And proudly gave a brave defiance 
 
 To JVit and Dullnefs in Alliance. 
 
 This APP ARiriON (with relation 
 To antient modes of Derivation^ 
 This we may properly fo call, 
 Although it ne'er appears at all, 
 As by the way of Innuendo^ 
 Lucus is made a non lucendo) 
 
 Superior
 
 THE GHOST. 199 
 
 Superior to the vulgar mode, 
 Nobly difdains that ferviie road, 
 Which Coward Ghofts, as it appears, 
 Have w^alk'd in full five thoufand years, 
 And for reftraint too mighty grown. 
 Strikes out a method of her own. 
 
 Others, may meanly ftart away, 
 AwM by the Herald of the Day, 
 With faculties too weak to bear 
 The frefhnefs of the Morning air, 
 May vanifh with the melting gloom^ 
 And glide in filence to the tomb ; 
 She dares the Sun's moft piercing light. 
 And knocks by Day as well as Night. 
 Others^ with mean and partial view. 
 Their vifits pay to one or two ; 
 She^ great in Reputation grown, 
 Keeps the beft Company in Town. 
 Our adive enterprifing Ghoft, 
 As large and fplendid Routs can boaft 
 As thofe vv'hich, rais'd by Pride's command, 
 Block up the paflagc uno' the Strand » 
 
 Great
 
 2CO THE GHOST. 
 
 Great adepts in the fighting trade, 
 Who ferv'd their time on the Parade \ 
 She Saints who, true to pleafure's plan. 
 Talk about God, and luft for man; 
 Wits, who beHeve nor God, nor Ghoft, 
 And Fools, who worfhip ev'ry poft j 
 Cowards, whofe lips with war are hung; 
 Men truly brave, who hold their tongue ; 
 Courtiers, who laugh they know not why, 
 And Cits, who for the fame caufe cry ; 
 The canting Tabernacle Brother, 
 (For one Rogue ftill fufpeds another) 
 Ladies, who to a Spirit fly, 
 Rather than with their Hujbands lie ; 
 Lords, who as chaftly pafs their lives 
 With other Women as their Wives ; 
 Proud of their intellects and cloaths, 
 Phyficians, Lawyers, Parfons, Beaux, 
 And, truant from their defies and fhops. 
 Spruce Temple Clerks, and 'Prentice Fops, 
 To Fanny come, with the fame view, 
 To find her falfe, or find her true. 
 
 Hark!
 
 THE GHOST. 201 
 
 Hark ! fomething creeps about the houfe ! 
 Is IT a Spirit, or a Motife? 
 Hark! fomething ycr^/c^^j round the room! 
 A Cat, a Rat, VLjliibFd Birch-Broom, 
 Hark ! on the wainfcoC now it knocks ! . 
 If Thou'rt a Ghojl, cried Orthodox, 
 With that affedled folemn air 
 Which Hypocrites delight to wear, 
 And all thofe forms of Consequence 
 Which Fools adopt inftead of Se?ife, 
 If thou'rt a Ghofl, who from the tomb 
 Stalk 'ft fadly ftlent thro' this gloom, 
 In breach of Nature's ftated laws. 
 For good, or bad, or for 7to caufe, 
 Give 710W nine knocks; like Priests of old. 
 Nine we a. f acred Number hold. 
 
 'Pllia, cried Profound, (a man of parts, 
 Deep read in all the curious Arts, 
 Who to their hidden fprings had trac'd 
 The force of Numbers, rightly placd J 
 As to the Number, you are right, 
 As to the form miftaken quite. 
 
 D d What's
 
 202 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 What's Nine ? — Your Adepts all agree, 
 The Virtue lies in Three times Three, 
 
 He faid, no need to fay it twice, 
 
 For TniacR She k?ioch'd^ and Thrice, and Thrice. 
 
 The Crowd, confounded and amaz'd, 
 In filence at each other gaz'd. 
 From Cilia's hand the Snuff-box fell, 
 Tinsel, who ogled with the Belle, 
 To pick it up attempts in vain. 
 He ftoops, but cannot rife again. 
 Imma?2e Pomposo was not heard 
 T' import one crabbed foreign word. 
 Fear feizes Heroes, Fools, and Wits, 
 And Plausible his pray'rs forgets. 
 
 At length, as People juft awake, 
 Into wild difibnance they break; 
 All talk'd at once, but not a word 
 Was underftood, or plainly heard. 
 Such is the noife of chattVing Geefe, 
 Slow falling on the Summer breeze ; 
 
 Such
 
 THE GHOST. 203 
 
 Such is the language Discord fpeaks 
 In Welch women o'er beds of Leels ; 
 Such the confus'd and horrid founds 
 Of IriJJj in Potatoe grounds. 
 
 But tir'd, for even C 's tonorue 
 
 Is not on iron hinges hung, 
 Fear and Confusion found retreat, 
 Reason and Order take their feat. 
 The fa6l confirm'd beyond all doubt, 
 They now would find the caufes out. 
 For this a facred rule we find 
 Among the niceft of Mankind, 
 Which never might exception brook 
 From Hobbes e'en down to Bolingbroke> 
 To doubt of fads, however true, 
 Unlefs they know the caufes too. 
 
 Trifle, of whom 'twas hard to tell 
 When he intended ill or well, 
 Who, to prevent all farther pother. 
 Probably meant nor one nor t'other, 
 Who to be filent always loth, 
 Would fpeak on either fide, or both, 
 
 D d 2 Who
 
 204 THE GHOST. 
 
 Who, led away by love of Fame, 
 If any new Idea came, 
 What'er it made for, always faid it. 
 Not with an eye to Truth, but Credit ; 
 For Orators frofejl^ 'tis known, 
 Talk not for our fake, but their own ; 
 Who always fliew'd his talents beft 
 When ferious things were turn'd to jeft, 
 And, under much impertinence, 
 Poffefs'd no common fhare of fenfe ; 
 Who could deceive the flying hours. 
 With chat on Butterflies and Flow'rs ; 
 Could talk of Powder, Patches, paint, 
 With the fame zeal as of a Saint ; 
 Could prove a Sibil brighter tar. 
 Than Ve7ms or the Mon7i?7g Star ; 
 Whilft fomething ftill fo gay, fo new, 
 The fmile of approbation drew. 
 And Females ey'd the charming man, 
 Whilft their hearts fluttered with their Fan . 
 Trifle, who would by no means mifs 
 An opportunity like this, 
 Proceeding on his ufual plan, 
 SmiPd^ JlroaKd his chi?iy and thus began. 
 
 With
 
 THE GHOST. 205 
 
 With Sheers^ or Scijfarsy Swordy or Knife^ 
 When the Fates cut the thread of life, 
 (For if we to the Grave are fent, 
 No matter with what injlrument) 
 The Body m fome lonely fpot. 
 On dung-hill vile, is laid to rot, 
 Or fleeps among more holy dead, 
 With Pray'rs irreverently read; 
 The Soul is fent, where Fate ordains, 
 To reap rewards, to fuffer pains. 
 
 The Virtuous to thofe manfions go. 
 Where Pleafures unembitter'd flow, 
 Where, leading up a jocund band. 
 Vigour and Youth dance hand in hand, 
 Whilft Zephyr, whith harmo?nous gales, 
 Pipes fofteft Mujic thro' the vales. 
 And Spring and Flora, gaily crown'd. 
 With Velvet Carpets fpread the ground ; 
 With livelier hluflj where Rofes bloom. 
 And ev'ry flirub expires perfume^ 
 Where chryfial ftreams 77tceandring glide^ 
 Where warbling flows the amber tide^ 
 
 Where
 
 2o6 THE GHOST. 
 
 Where other Sims dart brighter beams, 
 And LIGHT thro' purer cether flreams. 
 
 Far other feats, far diff'rent ftate 
 The Sons of Wickednefs await. 
 Justice (not that old Hag I mean, 
 Who's nightly in the Garden feen. 
 Who lets no fpark of Mercy rife 
 For Crimes, by "which 7nen lofe their eyes \ 
 Nor Her, who with an equal hand. 
 Weighs Tea and Sugar in the Strand. 
 Nor Her who, by the World deem'd wifey 
 Deaf to the Widow's piercing cries, 
 Steel'd 'gainft the ftarving Orphan's tears. 
 On Pawns her bafe Ti^ibunal rears \ 
 But Her v/ho, after Death prelides. 
 Whom facred Truth unerring guides, 
 Who, free from partial influence, 
 Nor finks, nor raifes Evide72ce^ 
 Before whom nothing's in the dark, 
 Who takes no Bribe^ and keeps no Clerk j 
 Justice with equal fcale below, 
 In due proportion weighs out woe. 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 And always with fuch lucky aim 
 Knows punifliments fo fit to frame, 
 That fhe augments their grief and pain, 
 Leaving no reafon to complain. 
 
 Old Maids and Rakes are join'd together, 
 Coquettes and Prudes^ like April weather. 
 JVit\ forc'd to Chum with Com?non Senfe^ 
 And Lujl is yok'd to Impotence, 
 Professors (yujlice fo decreed) 
 Unpaid muft conftant heBures read; 
 On Earth it often doth befal. 
 They're paid^ and never read at all, 
 Parfons muft pradife what they teach. 
 And B — ps are compell'd to preach. 
 
 She, who on earth was nice and prim. 
 Of delicacy full, and whim, 
 Whofe tender nature could not bear 
 The rudenefs of the churlifh air, 
 Is doom'd to mortify her pride. 
 The change of weather to abide, 
 And fells, whilft tears with liquor mix, 
 Burnt Brandy on the Shore of Styx. 
 
 207 
 
 AVARO
 
 2o8 THE GHOST. 
 
 AvARo, by long ufe grown bold 
 In ev'ry ill which brings him gold. 
 Who his Redeemer would pull down, 
 And fell his God for Half a Crown, 
 Who, if fome Blockhead fhould be willing 
 To lend him on his Soul a Shilling, 
 A well-made bargain would efteem it, 
 And have more fenfe than to redeem it, 
 Justice fliall in thofe fhades confine, 
 To drudge for Plutus in the Mine, 
 All the Day long to toil and roar. 
 And curfing work the ftubborn ore. 
 For Coxcombs herc^ who have no brains. 
 Without a Sixpence for his pains. 
 Thence^ with each due return of Night, 
 CoMPELL'd, the tall^ tlmt^ half-ftarv'd Sprite 
 Shall earth re-vifit, and furvey 
 The place where once his treafure lay. 
 Shall view the Jiall^ where holy Pride, 
 With letter cl Ignorance allied, 
 Once haird him mighty and ador'd, 
 Defcended to another Lord. 
 Then fhall He fcreaming pierce the air. 
 Hang his lank jaws, and fcowl defpair ; 
 
 Then
 
 THE GHOST. 209 
 
 Then fhall He ban at Heaven's decrees, 
 And, howling, fink to Hell for eafe. 
 
 Thofe, who on Earth thro' life have part. 
 With equal pace, from firft to laft. 
 Nor vex'd with paffions, nor with fpleen, 
 Infipid, eafy, and ferene, 
 Whofe heads were made too weak to bear 
 The weight of bufinefs, or of care. 
 Who without Merity without Crime^ 
 Contriv'd to while away their time, 
 Nor Good, nor Bad, nor Fools, nor Wits, 
 Mild Justice with a fmile, permits 
 Still to purfue their darling plan. 
 And find amufement how they can. 
 
 The Beau, in gaudieft plumage dreft 
 With lucky Fancy, o'er the reft 
 Of AIR a curious mantle throws. 
 And chats among his Brother Beaux ; 
 Or, if the weather's fine and clear. 
 No fign of rain or tempeft near, 
 Encourag'd by the cloudlefs day. 
 Like gilded Butterjlies at play, 
 
 E e . So
 
 210 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 So lively All, fo gay, fo briik, 
 
 In air They flutter^ floaty and frifk. 
 
 The Belle fvvhat mortal doth not know, 
 Belles after death admire a Beau ?) 
 With happy grace renews her art, 
 To trap the Coxcomb's wand'ring heart. 
 And after death, as whilfl: they live, 
 A heart is all which Beaux can give. 
 
 In fome ftill, folemn, facred fhade. 
 Behold a group of Authors laid. 
 News-paper Wits, and Sonneteers, 
 Gentlemen Bards, and RImning Peers, 
 Biographers, v/hofe wond'rous worth 
 Is fcarce remember'd now on earth. 
 Whom Fielding's humour led aftray. 
 And pla'mtive Fops, debauch'd by Gray, 
 All fit together in a ring. 
 And laugh and prattle, write and fing. 
 
 On his awn works, with laurel crown'd. 
 Neatly and elegantly hcundj 
 
 (For
 
 THE GHOST. 211 
 
 (For this is 02ie of many rules 
 
 With writing Lords and laureat Foolsy 
 
 And which for ever muft fucceed 
 
 With other Lords who cannot ready 
 
 However deftitute of wit, 
 
 To make their works for Book-case fit) 
 
 Acknowledged Mafter of thofe feats, 
 
 Gibber his Birth-Day Odes repeats. 
 
 With Triumph now poflefs that feat, 
 With Triumph now thy Odes repeat, 
 UnrivaU'd Vigils proudly keep, 
 Whilft evVy hearer's lull'd to fleep ; 
 But know, Illujlrious Bard, when Fate^ 
 Which ftill purfues thy name with hate, 
 The Regal Laurel blafts, which now 
 Blooms on the placid Whitehead's brow, 
 Low muft defcend thy Pride and Fame, 
 And Gibber's be the fecond Name. 
 
 Here Trifle cough'd (for Coughing ftill 
 Bears witnefs of the Speakers fkill, 
 A neceflary piece of art. 
 Of Rhetoric an eflential part, 
 
 E e 2 And
 
 212 THE GHOST* 
 
 And Adepts in the Speaking trade 
 
 Keep a Cough by tliem ready made^ 
 
 Which they fuccefsfully difpenfe 
 
 When at a lofs for woj'ds or fe?ife) 
 
 Here Trifle cough'd, here paus'd — but while 
 
 He ftrove to recoiled his fmile^ 
 
 That happy engine of his art, 
 
 Which triumphed o'er the female heart, 
 
 Credulity, the Child of Folly, 
 
 Begot on Cloyjlerd Melancholy, 
 
 Who heard, with grief, the florid Fool 
 
 Turn facred things to ridicule. 
 
 And faw him, led by Whim away, 
 
 Still farther from the fubjed fcray, 
 
 Juft in the happy nick, aloud, 
 
 In fhape of M — e, addref&'d the Crowd. 
 
 Were we with Patience here to fit, 
 Dupes to th' impertinence of Wit, 
 Till Trifle his harangue fhould end, 
 A Greenland Night we might attend, 
 Whilft Fie, with fluency of fpeech. 
 Would various mighty nothings teach ^ 
 
 (Here
 
 THE GHOST. 213 
 
 (Here Trifle, fternly looking down, 
 Gravely endeavour'd at a Frown, 
 But Nature unawares ftept in. 
 And, mocking, turn'd it to a Grin) 
 And when, in Fancy's Chariot hurl'dj^ 
 We had been carried round the world,. 
 Involv'd in error ftill and doubt. 
 He'd leave us where we firft fet out. 
 Thus Soldiers (in whofe exercife. 
 Material ufe with Grandeur vies) 
 Lift up their legs with mighty pain^ 
 Only to fet them down again. 
 
 Believe ye not (yes, all I fee 
 In found belief concur with me) 
 That Providence, for worthy ends. 
 To us unknown, this Spirit fends! 
 Tho' fpeechlefs lay the trembling tongue. 
 Your Faith was on your Features hung, 
 Your Faith I in your eyes could fee. 
 When all were pale and ftar'd like inc. 
 But fcruples to prevent, and root 
 Out ev'ry fhadow of difpute, 
 
 POMPOSO,
 
 214 T H E G H O S T. 
 
 Po.MPOso, Plausible, and I, 
 With Fanny, have agreed to try 
 A deep concerted fchenie — This night, 
 To fix, or to deftroy Her quite. 
 If it be 7f//r, before weVe done. 
 We'll make it glaring as the Sun ; 
 If it be falfe^ admit no doubt. 
 Ere Morning's dawn we'll find it out. 
 Into the vaulted womb of Death, 
 Where Fanny now, depriv'd of breath, 
 Lies feft'ring, vvhilft her troubled Sprite 
 Adds horror to the gloom of night, 
 Will We defcend, and bring from thence 
 "Proofs of fuch force to Common Senfe, 
 Vain Trijlej's fliall no more deceive. 
 And Atheists tremble, and believe. 
 
 He faid, and ceas'd y the Chamber rung 
 With due applaufe from ev'ry tongue. 
 The m.in^led found (now let me fee, 
 Something by way of Simile) 
 Was it more like St'ryinoniaii Cranes^ 
 Or TVindsy low murfnringy when it rains ^ 
 
 Or
 
 THE GHOST, 215 
 
 Or drowjy hu?n of dtcffring Bees^ 
 
 Or the hoarfe roar of angry Seas ? 
 
 Or (ftill to heighten and explain, 
 
 For elfe our Simile is vain) 
 
 Shall we declare it, like ail four^ 
 
 A Scream -i a Murmur^ Htiin^ and Roar P 
 
 Let Fancy now in awful ftate 
 Prefent this g?^ea( Triumverate, . 
 (A method which received we find 
 In ofber cafes by mankind) 
 RkBed with a joint confent. 
 All Fools in Town to reprefent. 
 
 The Clock ftrikes Twelve — M — e ftarts and fwears, 
 In Oaths we know, as well as Prayrs^ 
 Religion lies, and a Church Brother 
 May ufe at v/ill or one or t'other , 
 Plausible, from his CafTock, drew 
 A holy Manual, f^eming new; 
 A Book it was of p?'ivate Prayr^ 
 But not a pin the worfe for wear, 
 For, as we by the bye may fay. 
 None but fmall Saints in private pray. 
 
 Religion
 
 2i6 THE GHOST. 
 
 Religion, faireft Maid on earth. 
 As meek as good, who drew ber birth 
 From that blefl: union, when in heaven 
 Pleasure was Bride to Virtue given; 
 Religion, ever pleas'd to pray, 
 Poffefs'd the precious gift one day ; 
 Hypocrisy, of Cunning born, 
 Crept in and ftole it ere the morn. 
 Wh — TF — D, that greateft of all Saints, 
 Who always prays, and never faints, 
 Whom She to her own Brothers bore. 
 Rapine and Lust, on Severn's fhore, 
 Receiv'd it from the fquinting Dame ; 
 From Him to Plausible it came. 
 Who, with unufual care opreft. 
 Now trembling, puU'd it from his breaft. 
 Doubts in his boding heart arife. 
 And fancied Spe6lres blaft his eyes. 
 Devotion fprings from abjed; fear^ 
 And ftamps his PrayVs for once fincere. 
 
 PoMPOso (infolent and loud, 
 Vain idol of a fcribbling crowd, 
 
 Whofe
 
 THE GHOST. 217 
 
 Whofe very name infpires an awe, 
 
 Whofe ev'ry word is Senfe and Lav/, ^ 
 
 For what his Greatnefs hath decreed, 
 
 Like Laws of Persia and of Mede, 
 
 Sacred thro' all the realm of Wit-^. 
 
 Muft never of Repeal admit \ 
 
 Who, curling flatt'ry, is the tool 
 
 Of ev'ry fawning, flatt'ring fool j 
 
 Who wit with jealous eye furveys. 
 
 And fiickens at another's praife; 
 
 Who, proudly feiz'd of Learnings throne, 
 
 Now damns all Learning but his own ; 
 Who fcorns thofe common wares to trade in, 
 Reas flings Convificing^ and Perfuading^ 
 But makes each Sentence current pafs 
 With Puppy ^ Coxco?nb^ Scou7tclrely Afs\ 
 For 'tis with him a certain rule, 
 The Folly's prov'd when he calls Fool ; 
 Who, to incrcafe his native ftrength. 
 Draws words fix fyllables in length, 
 With which, affifted with a frown 
 By way of Club, he knocks us down ; 
 Who 'bove the Vulgar dares to rife. 
 And Senfe of Decmcy defies ; 
 
 F f For
 
 ri8 T II E GHOST. 
 
 For this fame Dcc£'ncy is made 
 -Only for Bunglers in the trade, 
 And, hke the Cobweb Laws^ is ftill 
 Broke thro' by G?'eat ones when they will) — 
 PoMPOso, with flrojig feiifi fupplied, 
 Supported, and confim'd by Pridcy 
 His Comrades' terrors to beguile, 
 Gri?ind ho7'ribly a ghaftly /mile : 
 Features fo horrid, were it light, 
 Would put the Devil himfelf to flight. 
 
 Such were the 7/jree in Name and Worth, 
 Whom Zeal and Judgment Angled forth 
 To try the Sprite on Reason's plan, 
 Whether it was of God or Ma;t, 
 
 Dark was the Night, it was that Hour, 
 When Terror reigns in fuUefl: Pow'r, 
 When, as the Learn d of old have faid. 
 The yawning Grave gives up her dead. 
 When Murder, Rapine by her fide, 
 Stalks o'er the earth with Giant ftride ; 
 Our Quixotes (for that Knight of old 
 Was not in Truth by half fo io/dy 
 
 The'
 
 THE G H O S T. 219 
 
 Tho' Reason at the fame time cries, 
 
 Our Quixotes are not half fo wife^ 
 
 Since they, with other folhes, boaft. 
 
 An Expedition 'gainft a Ghojl) 
 
 Thro' the dull deep furrounding gloom,. 
 
 In clofe array, towVds Fanny's tomb' 
 
 Adventured forth — Caution before. 
 
 With heedful ftep, the laiithorn bore. 
 
 Pointing at Graves; and in the Rear, 
 
 I'rembling^ and talking loud^ went Fear. 
 
 The Church-yard teem'd — th' unfettled ground, . 
 
 As in an Ague, fhook around ; 
 
 While in fome dreary vault coniin'd,,. 
 
 Or riding on the hollow Wiiid^ . 
 
 Horror, which turns the heart to ftone. 
 
 In dreadful founds was heard to groan. 
 
 All flaring, wild, and out of breath. 
 
 At length they reach the place of death. . 
 
 A Vault // was, long time applied 
 To hold the laft remains of Pride : 
 No Beggar there, of humble race. 
 And humble fortunes, finds a place, 
 
 F f 2 To
 
 220 THE G H O S T. 
 
 To reft in Pomp as well as Eafe 
 
 The only way's to pay the Fees. 
 
 Fools, Rogues, and Whores, if Rich and Greaty 
 
 Proud e'en in death, here rot in Sate, 
 
 No Thieves difrobe the well-dreji Dead, 
 
 No Plumbers fteal the f acred lead, 
 
 Quiet and fafe the Bodies lie. 
 
 No Sextons fell^ no Surgeons buy» 
 
 Thrice each the pondVous key apply'd. 
 And T'hrice to turn it vainly try'd, 
 Till taught by Prude?ice to unite, 
 And ftraining with collecfled might, 
 The ftubborn wards relift no more, 
 But open flies the growling door. 
 
 Three paces back They fell amaz'd, 
 Like Statues flood, like Madmen gaz'd ; 
 The frighted blood forfakes the face, 
 And feeks the heart with quicker pace ; 
 The throbbing heart its fears declares. 
 And upright ftand the briftled hairs ; 
 The head in wild diftradion fwims ; 
 Cold fweats bedew the trembling limbs ; 
 
 Nature,
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 Nature, whilft Fears her bofom chill, 
 Sufpends her Pow'rs, and Life ftands ftill. 
 
 Thus had they flood till nowy but Shame 
 (An ufeful, tho' negledled Dame, 
 By Heav'n defign'd the Friend of Man, 
 Tho' we degrade Her all we can. 
 And ftrive, as our firft proof of Wit, 
 Her Name and Nature to forget) 
 Came to their aid in happy hour, 
 And with a wand of mighty pow'r 
 Struck on their hearts ; vain Fears fubfide. 
 And baffled, leave the field to Pride. 
 
 Shall They, (forbid it Fame) fhall They 
 The didates of vile Fear obey ? 
 Shall They, the Idols of the Town, 
 To Bugbears Fancy formd bow down ? 
 Shall they, who greateft zeal expreft. 
 And undertook for all the reft, 
 Whofe matchlefs Courage all admire. 
 Inglorious from the tafk retire ? 
 How would the Wicked Ones rejoice. 
 And Infidels exalt their voice. 
 
 221 
 
 If
 
 222 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 If M — E and Plausible were found, 
 By padows aw'd, to quit their ground ? 
 How would Fools laugh, fhould it appear 
 PoMPOso was the flave of Fear? 
 
 Perifh the thought ! tho' to our eyes 
 In all its terrors Hell fhould rife, 
 Tho' thoufand Ghofts, in dread array, 
 With glaring eye-balls, crofs our way, 
 Tho' Caution, trembling, ftands aloof, 
 Still we will on, and dare the proof," 
 They faid ; and without farther halt, 
 Dauntlefs march'd onward to the Vault. 
 
 What mortal men, whoe'er drew breath. 
 Shall break into the Houfe of Death 
 With foot unhallowd^ and from thence 
 The Myft'ries of that State difpenfe, 
 Unlefs they, with due rites, prepare 
 Their weaker fenfe fuch lights to bear. 
 And gain permiffion from the State^ 
 On Earth their journal to relate ? 
 Poets themfelves, without a crime. 
 Cannot attempt it e'en in Rhime^ 
 
 But
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 But always, on fuch grand occafion, 
 Prepare a folem?2 htvocatmi^ 
 A Pofy for grim Pluto weave, 
 And in fmooth numbers aik his leave. 
 But why this Caution ? why prepare 
 Rites, needlefs now ? for thrice in air 
 The Spirit of the Night \izAi f7teezdy 
 And thrice hath clap'd his wings well-pleas'd. 
 
 Descend then Truth, and guard thy lide, 
 My Mufe^ my Patronefs^ and Guide! 
 Let Others at Invention aim, 
 And feek by falfities for fame ; 
 Our Story wants not, at this time, 
 Flounces and Furbuloes in Rhime : 
 Relate plain Fads ; be brief and bold ; 
 And let the Poets, fam'd of old^ 
 Seek, whilft our artlefs tale we tell, 
 In vain to find a Parallel : 
 Silent All Three went In, about 
 All Three turn*d Silent, and Came Out. 
 
 223 
 
 END OF THE SECOND BOOK.
 
 THE 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 IT WAS THE Hour, when Hufwife Mor72 
 With Pearl and Linen hangs each thorn ; 
 When happy Bards, who can regale 
 Their Mufe with country air and ale, 
 Ramble afield, to Brooks and Bow'rs, 
 To pick up Se?uiments and Flowrs ; 
 When Dogs and Squires from kennel fly, 
 ^^nd Hogs and Farmers quit their fly j 
 
 G g When
 
 226 THE GHOST. 
 
 When my Lord rifes to the Chace, 
 And brawny Chaplain takes his place. 
 
 Thefe Images, or bad or good, 
 If they are rightly underftood. 
 Sagacious Readers muft allow. 
 Proclaim us in the Country now. 
 For Obfervations moftly rife 
 From Objedls jufl: before our eyes, 
 And ev'ry Lord in Critic Wit 
 Can tell you where the piece was writ, 
 Can point out, as he goes along, 
 (And who fhall dare to fay he's wrong ?) 
 Whether the Warmth (for Bards we know. 
 At prefent, never more than glow) 
 Was in the Town or Country caught, 
 By the peculiar turn of thought. 
 
 It was the Hour — tho' Critic's frown. 
 We now declare ourfelves in Town, 
 Nor will a moment's paufe allow 
 For finding when we came, or how. 
 The Man, who deals in humble Profe, 
 Tied down by rule and method, goes; 
 
 But
 
 THE GHOST. 227 
 
 But they, who court the vig'rous Mufe, 
 Their carriage have a right to chufe. 
 Free as the Air, and unconfin'd, 
 Swift as the motions of the Mind, 
 The Poet darts from place to place, 
 And inftant bounds o'er Time and Space, 
 Nature (whilft blended fire and fkill 
 Inflame our paflions to his will) 
 Smiles at her violated Laws, 
 And crowns his daring with applaufe. 
 
 Should there be flill fome rigid few, 
 Who keep propriety in view, 
 Whofe heads turn round, and cannot bear 
 This whirling paffage thro' the Air, 
 Free leave have fuch at home to fit, 
 And write a Regimen for Wit : 
 To clip our pinions let them try, 
 Not having heart themfelves to fly. 
 
 It WAS THE Hour, when Devotees 
 Breathe pious curfes on their knees. 
 When they with pray'rs the day begin 
 To fandify a Night of Sin ; 
 
 G g 2 When
 
 228 THE GHOST 
 
 When Rogues of Modefty, who roam 
 Under the veil of Night, fneak home, 
 That free from all reftraint and awe, 
 Tuft to the windward of the Law, 
 Lefs modeft Rogues their tricks may play,. 
 And plunder in the face of day. 
 
 But hold — whilfl: thus we play the fool> 
 In bold contempt of ev'ry rule, 
 Things of no confequence expreffing, 
 Defcrib'mg now, and now digrejftng^ 
 To the difcredit of our fkill, 
 The main concern is ftanding ftill. 
 
 In Flays indeed, when ftorms of rage 
 Tempeftuous in the Soul engage, 
 Or when the Spirits, weak and low, 
 Are funk in deep diftrefs and woe, 
 With ftrid Propriety we hear 
 Description ftealing on the ear, 
 And put off feeling half an hour 
 To thatch a cot^ or paint a flowr ; 
 But in thefe ferious works, defign'd 
 To mend the morals of Mankind, 
 
 We
 
 THE GHOST. 229 
 
 We muft for ever be difgrac'd 
 
 With all the nicer fons of Tafte, 
 
 If once, the Shadow to purfue, 
 
 We let the Subftance out of view. 
 
 Our means muft uniformly tend 
 
 In due proportion to their end, 
 
 And ev'ry paflage aptly join 
 
 To bring about the one defign. 
 
 Our Friends themfelves cannot admit 
 
 This rambling, wild digreflive Wit, 
 
 No — not thofe very Friends, who found 
 
 Their Credit on the felf-fame ground. 
 
 Peace, my good grumbling Sir — for once, 
 Sunk in the folemn, formal Dunce, 
 
 This Coxcomb fhall your fears beguile 
 
 We will be dull — that you may fmile. 
 
 Come Method, come in all thy pride, 
 
 Dullness and Whitehead by thy fide, 
 
 Dullness and Method ftill are one, 
 
 And Whitehead is their darling Son. 
 
 Not He whofe pen, above controul. 
 
 Struck terror to the guilty Soul, 
 
 Made
 
 230 THE GHOST. 
 
 Made Folly tremble thro' her ftate, 
 And Villains blufli at being Great, 
 Whilfl: he himfelf, with fteady face, 
 Difdaining Modefty and Grace, 
 Could blunder on thro' thick and thin. 
 Thro' ev'ry mean and fervile fin^ 
 Yet fwear by Philip and by Paul, 
 He nobly fcorn'd to blufli at all ; 
 But He, who in the Laureat Chair, 
 By Grace, not Merit planted there, 
 In aukward pomp is feen to fit. 
 And by his Patejit proves his Wit ; 
 For favours of the Great, we know, 
 Can Wit as well as rank beftow. 
 And they who, without one pretenlion, 
 Can get for Fools a place or penfion, 
 Muft able be fuppos'd of courfe 
 (If reafon is allow^'d due force) 
 To give fuch qualities and grace, 
 As may equip them for the place. 
 
 But He — who meafures, as he goes, 
 A mongrel kind of tinkling profe, 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 And is too frugal to difpenfe 
 
 At once both Poetry and Senfe, 
 
 Who, from amidft his jlumFring guards. 
 
 Deals out a Charge to SubjeEi Bards^ 
 
 Where Couplets after Couplets creep 
 
 Propitious to the reign of ileep, 
 
 Yet ev'ry word imprints an awe, 
 
 And all his dictates pafs for law 
 
 With Beaux, who fimper all around, 
 
 And Belles, who die in ev'ry found. 
 
 For in all things of this relation. 
 
 Men moftly judge from Jituation^ 
 
 Nor in a thoufand find we one, 
 
 Who really weighs what's faid or done. 
 
 They deal out Cenfure, or give Credit, 
 
 Merely from him who did or faid it. 
 
 But He — who, happily ferene^ 
 Means nothing, yet would feem to mean ; 
 Who rules and cautions can difpenfe 
 With all that humble infolence, 
 Which Impudence in vain would teach, 
 And none but modeft men can reach ; 
 
 231 
 
 Who
 
 232 THE GHOST. 
 
 Who adds to Sentiments the grace 
 Of always being out of place, 
 And drawls out Morals with an air 
 A Gentleman would blufli to wear ; 
 Who, on tlie chafleft^ ftmpleji plan, 
 As Chajie^ as f^mple as the Man, 
 Without or CharaEier^ or Plot^ 
 Nature unknown, and Art forgot. 
 Can, with much racking of the brains, 
 And years confum'd in letter'd pains, 
 A heap of words together lay. 
 And, fmirking, call the thing a Play ; 
 Who Champion fworn in Virtue's caufe, 
 'Gainft Vice his tiny bodkin draws. 
 But to no part of Prudence ftranger, 
 Firft blunts the point for fear of danger. 
 So Nurfes fage, as Caution works, 
 When Children firft ufe knives and forks. 
 For fear of mifchief, it is known, 
 To others fingers, or their own. 
 To take the edge off wifely chufe, 
 Tho' the fame ftroke takes off the ufe. 
 
 Thee,
 
 THE GHOST. 233 
 
 Thee, Whitehead, Thee I now invoke, 
 Sworn foe to Satyr's genVous ftroke. 
 Which makes unwilHng Confcience feel, 
 And wounds, but only wounds to heal. 
 Good-natur'd, eafy Creature, mild, 
 And gentle as a new-born Child, 
 Thy heart would never once admit 
 E'en wholefome rigour to thy Wit, 
 Thy head^ if Confcience fhould comply, 
 Its kind afliftance would deny, 
 And lend thee neither force, nor art, 
 To drive it onward to the heart. 
 O may thy facred pow'r controul 
 Each fiercer working of my foul. 
 Damp ev'ry fpark of genuine fire, 
 And languors, like thine own, infpire ; 
 Trite be each Thought, and ev'ry Line 
 As Morale and as Dull as thine. 
 
 Pois'd in mid-air (it matters not 
 
 To afcertain the very fpot, 
 Nor yet to give you a relation. 
 How it eluded Gravitatmi ) 
 
 H h Hung
 
 234 THE GHOST. 
 
 Hung a TVatch-Toivr — by Vulcan planned 
 With fuch rare fkill, by Jove's Commandj 
 That evVy word, which v/hifper'd here 
 Scarce vibrates to the neighbour ear, 
 On tlic flill bofom of the Air 
 Is borne, and heard diftindtly there, 
 The Palace of an ancient Dame, 
 Whom Men as well as Gods call Fame» 
 
 A prattling Gojftp^ on whofe tongue 
 Proof of perpetual motion hung, 
 Whofe lungs in ftrength all lungs furpafs^, 
 Like her own Trumpet made of brafs. 
 Who with an hundred pair of eyes 
 The vain attacks of lleep defies; 
 Who with an hundred pair of wings 
 News from the fartheft quarters brings, 
 Sees, hears, and tells, untold before. 
 All that fhe knows, and ten times more. 
 
 Not all the Virtues, which we find 
 Concentered in a Hunter's mind. 
 Can make her fpare the ranc'rous tale. 
 If in one point fhe chance to fail ; 
 
 Or
 
 THE GHOST. 235 
 
 Or if, once in a thoufand years, 
 A perfedl Character appears, 
 Such as of late with joy and pride 
 My Soul poffefs'd, ere Arrow died, 
 Or fuch as. Envy muft allow, 
 
 The World enjoys in H now, 
 
 This Hag, who aims at all alike. 
 At Virtues e'en like theirs will ftrike, 
 And make faults, in the way of trade. 
 When fhe can't find them ready made* 
 
 All things fhe takes in, fmall and great. 
 Talks of a Toy-fiop and a State^ 
 Of TVits and Foolsy of Samts and Kings^ 
 Of GarterSy Stars^ and Leading-Strings^ 
 Of Old Lords ftimbli?jg for a Clap^ ^ 
 AnA. young Ones full of Prayr and Papj 
 Of CourtSy of Moralsy and Tye-Wigs^ 
 Of Bears y and Serjeants dancing jigs. 
 Of Grave Profejfors at the Bar 
 Learning to thrum on the Guittar^ 
 Whilfl: Laws are fluhherd o'er in hade. 
 And fudgjimtt facrific'd to Taste ; 
 
 H h 2 Of
 
 236 THE GHOST, 
 
 Of whited Sepulchres^ Lawn Sleeve s^ 
 And God's hoiife made a de?i of thieves y 
 Of Furiral po?npSj where Clamours hung, 
 And fix'd difgrace on evVy tongue, 
 Whilft Sense and Order blufh'd to fee 
 Nobles without Humanity ; 
 Or Corojiatmis^ where each heart, 
 With honeft raptures, bore a part j. 
 Of City Feajls^ where Elegance 
 Was proud her Colours to advance,. 
 And Gluttony, uncommon cafe, 
 Could only get the fecond place ; 
 Of New-rais' d Pillars in the State, 
 Who muft be good as being great; 
 Of Shoulders^ on which Honours fit 
 Almofl as clumlily as TVit -y 
 Of doughty Knights^ whom titles pleafe^ 
 But not the payment of the Fees ; 
 Of Le&ures^ whither ev'ry Fool 
 In fecond childhood goes to fchool ; 
 Of Grey Beards deaf to Reafon's call. 
 From Inn of Courts or City Hally 
 Whom youthful Appetites enflave. 
 With one Foot fairly in the grave, 
 
 By
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 By help of Crutch, a needful Brother, 
 
 Learning of Hart to dance with t'other i 
 
 Of DoSiors regularly bred 
 
 To fill the manfions of the dead ; 
 
 Of i^uach (for Quacks they muft be ftill 
 
 Who fave when Forms require to kill) 
 
 Who life, and health, and vigour give 
 
 To Him, not one would wifh to live; 
 
 Of Artijls who, with noblefl: view^ 
 
 Difinterefced plans purfue,. 
 
 For trembling worth the ladder raife. 
 
 And mark out the afcent to praife ; 
 
 Of Arts and Sciences^ where meet 
 
 Sublime^ Profound and all compleat^ - 
 
 A Set (whom at fome fitter time 
 
 The Muse fhall confecrate in RhimeJ 
 
 Who humble Artists to out-do 
 
 A far more liberal plan purfue, 
 
 And let their well-judgd Premiums fall 
 
 On thofe who have no worth at all 3 
 
 Of Sign-Pojl Exhibitio?2s^ rais'd 
 
 For laugther more than to be prais'd 
 
 (Tho' by the way we cannot fee 
 
 Why Praife and Laughter mayn't agree) 
 
 ^Z7 
 
 Where
 
 2^S THE G H O S T. 
 
 o 
 
 Where geminie FIumour runs to wafte, 
 And juftly chides our want of Tafte, 
 Cenfur'd, like other things, tho' good, 
 Becaufe they are not under Hood. 
 
 To higher fubjedis now She foars, 
 And talks of Politics and Whores^ 
 (If to your nice and chafter ears 
 That Term i7idelicate appears, 
 Scripture politely fliall refine, 
 And melt It into Co?icubi?7eJ 
 In the fame breath fpread Bourbon's league^ 
 And publifhes the Grand Intrigue^ 
 In Brussels or our ow7i Gazette, 
 Makes armies fight which never met, 
 And circulates the Pox or Plaeue 
 To London, by the way of Hague, 
 For all the lies which there appear, 
 Stamp'd with Authority come here; 
 Borrows as freely from the gabble 
 Of fome rude leader of a rabble. 
 Or from the quaint harangues of thofe 
 Who lead a Nation by the Nofe, 
 
 As
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 As from thofe Jlor7ns which, void of Art, 
 Bur ft from our ho77eJl Patriot's heart, 
 When Eloquence and Virtue (late 
 Remarked to live in mutual hate) 
 Fond of each other's Friendiliip grown^ 
 Claim ev'ry fentence for their own, 
 And with an equal joy recites 
 Parade Amours^ and half-pay Fights., 
 Perform'd by Heroes of fair Weather^ 
 Merely by dint of Lace and Feather, 
 As thofe rare adls which Honour taught 
 Our daring Sons where Granby fought,. 
 Or thofe which, with fuperior Ikill 
 atchiev'd by flaiiding JlilL 
 
 This Hag (the curious if they pleafe 
 May fearch from earlieft Times to thefe, 
 And Poets they will always fee, 
 With Gods and Goddejfes make free. 
 Treating them all, except the Muse, 
 As fcarcely fit to wipe their fhoes) 
 Who had beheld, from firft to laft 
 How our Triumvirate had pafs'd 
 
 239 
 
 Night's
 
 24-6 THE GHOST, 
 
 Night's deadful interval, and heard, 
 With flrid: attention, ev'ry word, 
 Soon as £he favv return of light, 
 On founding pinions took her flight. 
 
 Swift thro' the regions of the fky, 
 Above the reach of human eye, 
 Onward fhe drove the furious blaft, 
 And rapid as a whirlwind paft 
 O'er Countries^ once the feats of H'afley 
 By Time and Ignorance laid wafte, 
 O'er lands, where former ages favi^ 
 Reafo7Z and Ti'uth the only Lav/, 
 Where Arts and Arms^ and Public Love 
 In gen'rous emulation flrove. 
 Where Kings were proud of legal fway, 
 And Subjeds happy to obey, 
 Tho' novv in flav'ry funk, and broke 
 To Super/lit io?2s galling yoke. 
 Of ArtSy of Arms^ no more they tell, 
 Or Freedom^ which with SLimce fell. 
 By Tyrants aw'd, who never find 
 The PaiTage to their people's mind, 
 
 To
 
 THE GHOST, 241 
 
 To whom the joy was never known 
 Of planting in the heart their throne, 
 Far from all profped: of relief, 
 Their hours in fruitlefs pray'rs and grief. 
 For lofs of bleflings they employ, 
 Which We untha?2kfully enjoy. 
 
 Now is the time (had we the will) 
 T'amaze the Reader with our fkill, 
 To pour out fuch a flood of knowledge 
 As might fuffice for a whole College, 
 Whilft with a true Poetic force 
 We trac'd the Goddefs in her courfe, 
 Sweetly defcribing, in our flight, 
 Each Co?nmo?i and Uncoinmoji Sight, 
 Making our journal gay and pleafant, 
 With things long pad, and things now prefent, 
 
 Rivers — once Nymphs — (a transformation 
 Is mighty pretty in Relation) 
 From great Authorities we know 
 Will matter for a Tale beftow. 
 To make the obfcrvation clear 
 We give our Friends an inflance here. 
 
 I i The
 
 242 THE G H O S T. 
 
 The Day (that never Is forgot) 
 V/as very jine^ but ve?y hot^ 
 The Nymph (another gen'ral rule) 
 Enflam'd with heat, laid down to cool} 
 Her Hair (we no exceptions find) 
 JVavd car clefs fioating i?i the wi?id\ 
 Her heaving hreafs^ like Summer feaSy 
 Seemed amorous of the playful breeze '^ 
 Should fo?2d Description tune our lays 
 \\\ choicefl accents to her praife, 
 Description wg at laft £hould find, 
 Bajffled and weak, would halt behind. 
 Nature had form'd her to infpire 
 In ev'ry bofoni foft defire, 
 Paffio7is to raife fe could 7iot feely 
 Wounds to infliEi fhe would 720t heal, 
 A God (his name is no great matter, 
 Pcrphaps a Jove, perhaps a Satyr) 
 Raging with Luf, a Godlike flame, 
 By chance, as ufual^ thither came r 
 With gloting eyes the Fair one view'd, 
 Defir'd her firft, and then purfu'd j 
 She (for what other can fhe do?) 
 Mufl: fly — or how can He purfue? 
 
 The
 
 THE GHOST. 243 
 
 The Mufe (fo Cuftom hath decreed) 
 
 Now proves her Spirit by her fpeed, 
 
 Nor muft one Iwiping Hne difgrace 
 
 The life and vigour of the Race. 
 
 She runs, and He runs, 'till at length. 
 
 Quite deftitute of Breath and ftrength. 
 
 To Heavn (for there we all apply 
 
 For help, when there's no other nigh) 
 
 She offers up her Virgm Pray'r, 
 
 (Can Virghis pray unpitied there ?) 
 
 And when the God thinks He has caught her. 
 
 Slips thro' his hands, and runs to water, 
 
 Becomes a St?'eam^ in which the Poet, 
 
 If he has any Wit, may fhew it. 
 
 A City once for Pow'r renown'd. 
 Now leveird even to the ground. 
 Beyond all doubt is a direction 
 To introduce fome fine refledlion. 
 
 Ah^ woeful me! Ah^ woeful Manl 
 Ah ! woeful All^ do all we ca?2 ! 
 Who can on earthly things depend 
 From one to t'other moment's end ? 
 
 ♦ I i 2 Honour,
 
 244 THE G H O S T- 
 
 Honour, Wit, Genius, Wealth, and Glorv^ 
 Gojd lack I good lack I are tranfitory, 
 Nothing is furc and flable found. 
 The very Earth itfelf turns round. 
 Mo7iarchs^ nay Ministers muft die, 
 Muft rot^ mu{)i Jlink — Ah^ me I ah^ why! 
 Cities themfelves in Time decay. 
 If Cities thus — Ah^ well-a-day I 
 If Brick and Mortar have an end, 
 Ovl v/hat can Flep and Blood depend^^ 
 Ah woeful -me I Ah woeful Man I' 
 Ahy woeful Ally do- All we can !■ 
 
 England (for that's at lafi: the Scene, 
 Tho' Worlds on Worlds fliould rife between^ 
 Whither we muft our courfe purfue) 
 England fhould call into review- 
 Times long fince pafl indeed, but not 
 By Englishmen to be forgot,. 
 Tho' Engl/^nd, once fo dear to Fame, 
 Sinks in Great Britain's dearer name. 
 
 ITcre could wc mention Chiefs of oldy 
 In plain and rugged honour bold, 
 
 To
 
 THE GHOST. 245 
 
 To Virtue kind, to Vice fcvere, 
 
 Strangers to Bribery and Fear, 
 
 Who kept no wretched Clans in awe, 
 
 Who never broke or warfd the Law * 
 
 Patriots^ whom, in her better days. 
 
 Old Rome might have been proud to raife. 
 
 Who fteddy to their Country's claim. 
 
 Boldly flood up in Freedoms name, 
 
 E'en to the teeth of lyrajU Pride^y 
 
 And, when they could no more, they died.. 
 
 There (Jlr'iking contrajl) mJght we place 
 A fervile, mean, degen'rate race, 
 Hirelings^ who valued nought but gold,. 
 By the beft Bidder bought and fold. 
 Truants from Honour's facred Laws, 
 Betrayers of their Country's caufe. 
 The Dupes of Party, Tools of Povv'r, 
 Slaves to the Mi?2ion of a?i Hour^ 
 Lacquies, who watch'd a Favorite s vlO^^ 
 And took a Puppet for their God. 
 
 Sincere and honeft in our Rhimcs, 
 How might we praife thcfe happier times ! 
 
 How
 
 246 T HE GHOST. 
 
 T 
 
 How might the Mufe exalt her lays, 
 And wanton in a Monarch's praife ! 
 Tell of a Prince in England born, 
 Whofe Virtues England's crown adorn. 
 In Youth a pattern unto age, 
 So chafte, fo Pious, and (6 Sage, 
 Who true to all thofe facred bands, 
 Which private happinefs demands. 
 Yet nev^er lets them rife above 
 The ftronger ties of Public Love. 
 
 With confcious Pride fee England ftand, 
 Our holy Charter in her hand. 
 She waves it round, and o'er the Ifle 
 See Liberty and Courage fmile. 
 No more fhe mourns her treafures hurl'd 
 In Subfidies to all the world ; 
 No more by foreign threats difhiay'd, 
 No more deceiv'd with foreign aid. 
 She deals out Sums to petty States, 
 Whom Ho7iour fcorns, and Reafon hates, 
 But, wifcr by Experience grown, 
 Einds fafcty in herfelf alone. 
 
 Whilft
 
 THE GHOST. 247 
 
 Whilft thus, flie cries, my children, ftand, 
 An honed, valiant, 7iative band, 
 A trained Militia, brave and free, 
 True to their King, and true to Me, 
 No foreign Hirelings fliall be known, 
 Nor need we Hirehngs of our aw?i. 
 Under a juft and pious reign 
 The Statefman's fophiflry is vain, 
 Vain is each vile corrupt pretence, 
 Thefe are my natural defence, 
 Their Faith I know, and they fhall prov^ 
 The Bulwark of the King they Love. 
 
 Thefe, and a thoufand things befide. 
 Did we confult a Poet's Pride, 
 Some gay, fome ferious, might be faid, 
 But ten to one they'd not be read, 
 Or were they by fome curious few. 
 Not even thofc would think them true. 
 For, from the time that Jubal firft 
 Sweet ditties to the harp rehears'd. 
 Poets have always been fufpeded 
 Of having Truth in Rhime neglecled, 
 
 That
 
 2+8 THE GHOST. 
 
 That Bard except, who, from his Youth 
 Equally fam'd for Faith and 7;7///6, 
 By Prudence taught, in courtly chime 
 To Courtly ears^ brought Truth in Rhi??je. 
 
 But tho' to Poets we allow, 
 No matter when acqulr'd or how, 
 From Truth unbounded deviation. 
 Which cuftom calls hnagi7tation^ 
 Yet can't they be fuppos'd to lye 
 One half fo faft as Fame can fly. 
 Therefore (to folve this Gordiaii knot, 
 A point we almofi: had forgot) 
 To courteous Readers be it known, 
 That fond of verfe and falfhood grown, 
 Whilfl: w^e in fweet digreffion fung, 
 Fame check'd her flight, and held her tongue. 
 And now purfues with double force. 
 And double fpeed her deflin'd courfe. 
 Nor flops, till She the place arrives 
 Where Genius ftarves, and Dullness thrives, 
 Where Riches Virtue are efteem'd, 
 And Craft is trueft Wifdom dcem'd. 
 
 Where
 
 THE GHOST. 249 
 
 Where Commerce proudly rears her throne 
 
 In State to other Lands unknown, 
 
 Where to be cheated, and to cheat, 
 
 Strangers from ev'ry quarter meet. 
 
 Where Christians, Jews, and Turks {hake hands, 
 
 United in Commercial bands, 
 
 All of one Faith^ and that, to own 
 
 No God but Interest alone. 
 
 When Gods and Goddefles come down 
 To look about them here in Town, 
 (For Change of Air is underftood. 
 By Sons of Phyfic to be good. 
 In due proportions now and then 
 For thefe fame Gods as well as Men) 
 By Cuftom ruFd, and not a Poet 
 So very dull, but he muft know it, 
 In order to remain incog* 
 They always travel in a fog. 
 For if we Majefly expofe 
 To vulgar eyes, too cheap it grows, 
 The force is loft, and free from awe, 
 We fpy and cenfure ev'ry flaw. 
 
 K k But
 
 ?,5o THE GHOST. 
 
 But well preferv'd from public view^ 
 It always breaks forth frefla and new,. 
 Fierce as the Sun in all his pride, 
 It fliines, and not a fpot's defcried. 
 
 Was Jove to lay his thunder by,. 
 And with his brethren of the fky 
 Defcend to earth, and frifk about^ 
 Like chatt'ring N***, from rout to rout, 
 He would be Sound, with all his hoft, 
 A nine days Wonder at the moft. 
 Would we in trim our Honours wear. 
 We muft preferve them from the air, 
 What is familiar, Men neglect, 
 However worthy of refpeft. 
 Did they not find a certain friend 
 In Novelty to recommend,. 
 (Such we by fad experience find 
 The wretched folly of mankind) 
 Venus might unattractive {hine, 
 And H*** fix no eyes but mitie.^ 
 
 But Fame, who never ear'd a jot 
 Whether fhe was admir'd or not, 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 251 
 
 And never blufh'd to fliew her face 
 
 At any time in any place, 
 
 In her own fhape, without difguife, 
 
 And viUble to mortal eyes, 
 
 On Change, exad: at feven o'clock, 
 
 Alighted on the Weather-Cock^ 
 
 ¥/hich, planted there time out of mind 
 
 To note the changes of the wind, 
 
 Might no improper emblem be 
 
 Of her own mutability. 
 
 Thrice did She found her trump (the fame 
 Which from the firft belonged to Fame, 
 An old ill-favour d Inilrument 
 With which the Goddefs was content, 
 Tho^ under a politer race 
 Bag-pipes might well fupply its place) 
 And thrice awaken'd by the found, 
 A gen'ral din prevail'd around, 
 .Confusion thro' the City paft^ 
 And Fear beftrode the dreadful blaft. 
 
 Thofe fragrant Current Sy which we meet 
 Diftilling foft thro' ev'ry ftreetj 
 
 K k 2 Affrighted
 
 252 THE GHOST. 
 
 Affrighted from the ufual courfe, 
 Ran murmring upwards to their fource ; 
 Statues wept tears of blood, as faft 
 As when a C^sar breath'd his laft ; 
 Horfes, which always us'd to go, 
 A foot-pace in my Lord- Mayor s Show^ 
 hnpetuoiis from their Stable broke, 
 And Aldermen and Oxen fpoke. 
 
 Halls felt the force, Towrs fhook around, 
 And Steeples nodded to the ground, 
 St. Paul himfelf (ftrange fight!) was feen 
 To bow as humbly as the Dean. 
 The Ma7ifwn-Houje^ for ever plac'd 
 A monument of City Tajie^ 
 Trembrd, and fcem'd aloud to groan 
 Thro' all that hideous weight of ftone. 
 
 To ftill the found, or ftop her ears. 
 Remove the caufe or fenfe of fears, 
 Physic, in College feated high, 
 Would any thing but Medicine try. 
 No more in Pewt'rers-Hall was heard 
 The proper force of ev'ry word. 
 
 Thofe
 
 THE GHOST. 253 
 
 Thofe feats were defolate become, 
 
 A haplefs Elocution dumb. 
 
 F0RM5 City-born^ and City-bred^ 
 
 By ftri6t Decorum ever led, 
 
 Who threefcore years had known the grace 
 
 Of one^ didl^ Jiiffy unvaried pace; 
 
 Terror prevailing over Pride, 
 
 Was feen to take a larger ftride ; 
 
 Worn to the bone, and cloath'd in rags, , 
 
 See A v' RICE clofer hug his bags ; 
 
 With her own weight unwieldy grown,, 
 
 See Credit totter on her Throne; 
 
 Virtue alone, had She been there, 
 
 The mighty found, unmov'd, could bear/ 
 
 Up from the gorgeous bed, where Fate - 
 Dooms annual Fools to fleep in ftate. 
 To fleep fo found that not one gleam 
 Of Fancy can provoke a dream. 
 Great Dull man ftarted at the found, 
 Gap'd, rubb'd his eyes, and fl:ar'd around. 
 Much did he wifh to know, much fear 
 Whence founds fo horrid ftruck his ear, 
 
 So
 
 254- THE GHOST. 
 
 So much unlike thofe peaceful notes, 
 Tliat equal harmony, which floats 
 •On the dull wing of City air, 
 Grave prelude to a feaft or fair ; 
 Much did he inly ruminate 
 Concerning the decrees of Fate, 
 Revolving, tho' to little end, 
 What this fame trumpet might portend. 
 
 Could the French — no — that could not be 
 Under Bute's aSiive miniflry, 
 Too watchful to be fo deceiv'd, 
 Have ftolen hither unperceiv'd, 
 To Newfoundland indeed we know, 
 Fleets of war unobferv'd may go. 
 Or, if obferv'd, may be fuppos'd. 
 At intervals when Reafon doz'd, 
 No other point in view to bear 
 But Pleafure, Health, and Change of Air. 
 But Reafon ne'er could fleep fo found 
 To let an enemy be found 
 In our Land's heart, ere it was known 
 They had departed from their own. 
 
 Of
 
 THE GHOST. ^55, 
 
 Gr could his Succejfor (Ambition 
 Is ever haunted with fufpicion) 
 His daring Succejfor eleEl^ 
 All Cuftoms, rules, and forms reject, 
 And aim, regardlefs of the crime, 
 To feize the chair before his time \ 
 
 Or (deeming this the lucky hour 
 Seeing his Countrymen in pow'r^ 
 l^hofe Countrymen^ who, from the firft,. 
 In tumults and Rebellion nurs'd, 
 Howe'er they wear the mafk of art,. 
 Still love a Stuart in their heart), 
 Gould Scottish Charles. 
 
 ConjeSiure thusj. 
 That mental Ignis Fatuus, 
 Led his poor brains a weary dance 
 From France to England, hence to France, 
 Till Information (in the fhape 
 Of Chaplain learn'd, good Sir Crape, 
 A lazy, lounging, pamper'd Prieft, , 
 Well known at ev'ry City feaft, , 
 
 For
 
 256 T H E GHOST. 
 
 For he was feen much oft'ner there 
 Than in the Houfe of God at PrayV; 
 Who always ready in his place, 
 Ne'er let God's creatures wait for grace, 
 Tho', as the beft Hiftorians write, 
 Xefs fam'd for Faith than Appetite, 
 His difpoiition to reveal, 
 The Grace was fhort, and long the meal ; 
 Who always would excefs admit. 
 If Hau72ch or Turtle came with it. 
 And ne'er eno-ag-'d in the defence 
 Of feh-denying Abftinence, 
 When he could fortunately meet 
 With any thing he lik'd to eat; 
 Who knew that Wine, on Scripture plan. 
 Was made to cheer the heart of Man, 
 Knew too, by long experience taught, 
 That Cheerful nefs was kilFd by thought, 
 And from thofc premifles colleded, 
 (Which few perhaps would have fufpedled) 
 That none, who with due fliare of fenfe 
 Obfcrv'd the ways of Providence, 
 Could with iiife Confcience leave off drinking, 
 Till they had loft the pow'r of thinking) 
 
 With
 
 THE GHOST. 257 
 
 With eyes half-clos'd came waddling in, 
 And, having ftrok'd his double chin^ 
 (That Chin^ vvhofe credit to maintain 
 Againft the Scoffs of the profane, 
 Had coft him more than ever State 
 Paid for a poor Ele&orate^ 
 Which after all the cofl: and rout, 
 It had been better much without) 
 Briefly (for Breakfaji^ you muft know, 
 Was waiting all the while below) 
 Related, bowing to the ground. 
 The caufe of that uncommon found. 
 Related too, that at the door, 
 PoMPOso, Plausible, and M — e, 
 Begg'd that Fame might not be allow'd. 
 Their fhame to publifh to the crowd ; 
 That fome new laws he would provide, 
 (If Old could not be mifapplied 
 Wiih as much eafe and fafety there, 
 As they are mifapplied eljewhere) 
 By which it might be conftrued treafon 
 In Man to exeicife his reafon. 
 Which might higenloufiy devife 
 One punifhment for iiuthand Lies* 
 
 L i And
 
 258 THE GHOST. 
 
 And fairly prove, when they had done, 
 That Truth and Falfhood were but one; 
 Which Juries muft indeed retain, 
 But their eft'ed: fhould render vain^ 
 Making all real pow'r to reft 
 In one corrupted rotten breafly 
 By whofe falfe glofs the very Bible 
 Might be interpreted a LibeL 
 
 M * * % (who, his Reverence to fave. 
 Pleaded the Fool to fcreen the Knave, 
 Tho' all, who witneffed on his part. 
 Swore for his head againft his heart) 
 Had taken down, from fir ft to laft, 
 A juft account of all that paft ; 
 But, fince the gracious will of Fate^ 
 Who mark'd the Child for wealth and ftate 
 E'en in the Cradle, had decreed 
 The mighty Dullman ne'er fhould read. 
 That ofHce of dif grace to bear 
 Th^ fmooth-lifd Plausible was there. 
 From H***** e'en to Clerkenwell 
 Who knows not fmooth-lif d Plausible ? 
 
 A
 
 THE GHOST. 259 
 
 A Preacher deem'd of greateft note, 
 For Preaching that which others wrote. 
 
 Had DuLLMAN now (and Fools we fee 
 
 Seldom want Curiofity) 
 
 Confented (but the mourfting Jhadc 
 
 Of Gascoigne haft ned to his aid, 
 
 And in his hand, what could he more ? 
 
 Triumphant Canning's Picture bore) 
 
 That our three Heroes fhould advance 
 
 And read their Comical Romance^ 
 How rich a feaft, what royal fare 
 We for our Readers might prepare ! 
 So rich, and yet fo fafe a feaft. 
 That no one foreign blata7it beaft, 
 Within the purheus of the Lawy 
 Should dare thereon to lay his paw, 
 And, growling^ cry, with furly tone. 
 Keep off ^this feajl is all my own. 
 
 Bending to earth the downcaft eye, 
 Or planting it againft the /ky. 
 As One immers'd in deepeft Thought, 
 Or with fome holy Vifion caught, 
 
 L 1 2 His
 
 26o THE GHOST. 
 
 His Hands, to aid the traitor's art, 
 
 Devoutly folded o'er his heart. 
 
 Here M****, in fraud well fkill'd, fliould go 
 
 Ail Saint^ with folemn ftep and floWr 
 
 O that Religion's facred name,> 
 
 Meant to infpire the pureft flame, 
 
 A Proftitute fliould ever be 
 
 To that Arch-jimd Hypocrisy, 
 
 Where we find ev'ry other vice 
 
 Crown'd with dam?zd fneaking Cowardice ! 
 
 Bold Sin reclaim'd is often feen ; 
 
 Paji hope that Man^ who dares be mean. 
 
 There, full oi flejh^ and full of Grace^ 
 With that fine round unmeaning facey 
 Which Nature gives to fons of earth. 
 Whom file defigns for eafe and mirth, 
 Should the prim Plausible be feen ; 
 Obferve his ftiff affeded mien; 
 'Gainft Nature, arm'd by Gravity, 
 His features too in buckle fee ; 
 See with what Sandity he reads, 
 With what Devotion tells his beads ! 
 
 Now
 
 THE GHOST. 261 
 
 Now Prophet, flicw me, by thine art, 
 What's the Religion of his heart; 
 Shew fiere^ if Truth thou can'ft unfold, 
 Religion center'd all in Gold, 
 Shew Him, nor fear Corredion's rod, 
 As falfe to Friendjhip, as to God. 
 
 Horrid, U7iwetldly, without Form^. 
 Savage, as Ocean in a Storm, 
 Of Jize prodigious, in the rear, 
 'That Pojl of Honour, fhould appear 
 PoMPOso ; Fame around fhould tell . 
 How he a flave to int'reft fell, 
 How, for Integrity renown'd, 
 Which Bookfellers have often found, 
 He for Subfcribers baits his hook. 
 And takes their cafh — but where's the Book r 
 No matter where — Wife Fear, we know, 
 Forbids the robbing of a Foe ; 
 But what, to ferve our private ends,. 
 Forbids the cheating of our Friends ? 
 No Man alive, who w ould not fwear 
 All's Jafe,. and therefore ho?iefl there* 
 
 For
 
 262 THE GHOST. 
 
 For, fplte of all the learned fay, 
 
 If we to Truth attention pay, 
 
 The word Dipoitejiy is meant 
 
 For nothing elfe but Punijhment, 
 
 Fame too fhould tell, nor heed the threat 
 
 Of Rogues, who Brother Rogues abet, 
 
 Nor tremble at the terrors hung 
 
 Aloft, to make her hold her tongue^ 
 
 How to all Principles untrue. 
 
 Not fix'd to old Friends, nor to New^ 
 
 He damns the Pejifwn which he takes. 
 
 And loves the Stuart he forfakes. ' , 
 
 Nature (who juftly regular 
 
 Is very feldom known to err, 
 
 ;But now and then in fportive mood^ 
 
 As fome ricde wits have underftood. 
 
 Or through much work requird in hajie^ 
 
 Is with a random ftroke difgrac'd) 
 
 PoMPOso form'd on doubtful plan, 
 
 Not quite a Beajl^ nor quite a Man^ 
 
 Like — God blows what — for never yet 
 
 Could the moft fubtle human Wit 
 
 Find out a Monfter, which might be 
 
 The Shadow of a Simile, 
 
 These
 
 THE GHOST. ^63 
 
 These Three, these Great, these mighty Three, 
 Nor can the Poet\ Truth agree, 
 Hovve'er Report hath done him wrong, 
 And warp'd the purpofe of his fong, 
 Amongft the refufe of their Race, 
 The Sons of Infamy to place. 
 That open, gen'rous, manly mind. 
 Which we with joy in Aldrich find. 
 These Three, who now are fai?ttly fhewn, 
 yuji Jketch'dy and fcarcely to be known, 
 If DuLLMAN their Requeft had heard, 
 In ftronger Colours had appeared. 
 And Friends, tho' partial, at firft view, 
 Shudd'ringy had own'd the pidlure true. 
 
 But had their Journal been difplay'^d, 
 And the whole procefs open laid, 
 What a vaft unexhaufted field 
 For Mirth, muft fuch a Journal yield ! 
 In her own anger ftrongly charm'd, 
 'Gainft Hope, 'gainft Fear by Confcience arm'd, 
 Then had bold Satire made her way, 
 Knights^ Liords^ and Dukesy her deftin'd prey. 
 
 But
 
 264 THE GHOST. 
 
 But Prudence, ever facred name 
 To thofe who feel not Virtue's flame. 
 Or only feel it at the beft 
 As the dull dupe of Interejiy 
 Whifper'd aloud (for this we find 
 A Cuftom current with Mankind, 
 So loud to Whifper, that each word 
 May all around be plainly heard, 
 And Prudence fure would never mifs 
 A Cuftom fo contrived as this 
 Her Candour to fecure ; yet aim, 
 Sure Death againft another's fame) 
 
 Kmghts^ Lordsy and Dukes mad wretch, forbear, 
 
 Dangers unthought of ambufh there i 
 
 Confine thy rage to weaker flaves. 
 
 Laugh at f?72all Fools ^ and la(h fmall Knaves^ 
 
 But never, helplefs^ mean^ and poor^ 
 
 Rufh on, where Laws cannot fecure, 
 
 Nor think thyfelf, miftaken Youth, 
 
 Secure in Principles of Truth, 
 
 Truth! why, fhall ev'ry wretch of Letters 
 
 Dare to fpeak Truth againft Iiis Betters ! 
 
 Let ra^^ed Virtue ftand aloof, 
 
 Nor mutter accents of reproof; 
 
 Let
 
 THE GHOST. 265 
 
 Let ragged Wit a Mute become, 
 
 When wealth and Povv'r would have her dumb. 
 
 For who the Devil doth not know, 
 
 That Titles and E dates bcftovv 
 
 An ample ftock, where're they fall, 
 
 Of Graces which we mental call ? 
 
 Beggars, in ev'ry age and nation. 
 
 Are Rogues and Fools by Situation ; 
 
 The Rich and Great are underftood 
 
 To be of Courfe both wife and good. 
 
 Confult then Int'reft more than Pride, 
 
 Difcreetly take the ftronger fide, 
 
 Defert in Time the iimple izw^ 
 
 Who Virtues barren path purfue, 
 
 Adopt my maxims —follow Me 
 
 To Baal bow the prudent knee; 
 Deny thy God, betray thy Friend, 
 At Baal's altars hourly bend, 
 So flialt Thou rich and great be feen ; 
 To be Great now.^ You muft be mean. 
 
 Hence, Tempter^ to fome weaker Soul, 
 Which Fear and Intereft controul ; 
 
 M m Vainly
 
 266 THE GHOST. 
 
 Vainly thy precepts are addrefs'd, 
 Where Virtue fleels the fteady breaft. 
 Through Meannefs wade to boafted pow'r, 
 Through Guilt repeated evVy hour, 
 What is thy Gain, when all is done, 
 What mighty laurels haft Thou won ? 
 Dull Crowds, to whom the heart's unknown, 
 Praife Thee for Virtues not thine own ; 
 But will, at once Man's fcourge and friend, 
 hnpartial Conscience too commend? 
 From her reproaches can'ft Thou fly? 
 Can 'ft Thou with worlds her lilence buy ? 
 Believe it not — her ftings fliall find 
 A Pafiage to thy Coward Mind. 
 There fhall fhe fix her fharpeft dart, 
 There fliew Thee truly, as TIoou art^ 
 JJnkmw7i to thofe^ by njohom 'Thoiif^t prhz d\ 
 Known to thyfelf to be defpis d. 
 
 The Man, who weds the facred Muse, 
 Difdains all mercenary views. 
 And He, who Virtue's throne would rear, 
 Laughs at the Phantoms rais'd by Fear. 
 
 Tho'
 
 THE GHOST. 267 
 
 Tlio' Follyy rob'd in Purple, fliines, 
 Tho' P^ice exhaufts Peruvian mines, 
 Yet fhall they tremble, and turn pale, 
 When Satire wields her mighty Flail; 
 Or fhould They, of rebuke afraid. 
 With Melcombe feek HelFs deepeft fhade, 
 Satire, ftill mindful of her aim. 
 Shall bring the Cowards back to Shame. 
 
 Hated by many, lov'd by few, 
 Above each little private view, 
 Honeft, tho' poor, (and who fhall dare 
 To difappoint my boafting there ?j 
 Hardy and refolute, tho' weak, 
 The didates of my heart to fpeak, 
 Willing I bend at Satire's Throne; 
 What Pow'r I have, be all her own. 
 
 Nor fhall yon Lawyer s fpecious art, 
 Confcious of a corrupted heart, 
 Create imaginary Fear 
 To damp us in our bold Career. 
 Why fliould we Fear ? and what ? tlie Laws ? 
 They all are arm'd in Virtue's caufe. 
 
 M m 2 ' And
 
 268 THE G H O S T. 
 
 And aiming at the felf-fame end, 
 Satire is always Virtue's Friend, 
 Nor flball that Mufe, whofe honeft rage,. 
 In a corrupt degen'rate age, 
 (When, dead to ev'ry nicer fenfc, 
 Deep funk in Vice and Indolence,. 
 The Spirit of old Rome was broke 
 Beneath the Tyrant Fidlers yoke) 
 Banifh'd the Rofe from Nero^s cheek ; 
 Under a Brunswick fear to fpeak. 
 
 Drawn by Conceit from Reason's plan,, 
 How vain is that poo?^ Creature^ Man ! 
 How pleas'd is ev'ry paultry elf 
 To prate about that thing himfelf ! 
 After my Promife made, in Rhime^ 
 And meant in carneft at that time, 
 To jog, according to the Mode, 
 In one dull pace, in one dull road. 
 What but that Curfe of Heart and Head 
 To this digreffwn could have led, 
 V/here plung'd, in vain I look about. 
 And can't ftay in, nor well get out. 
 
 Could
 
 THE GHOST. 269 
 
 Could I, wliilft Humour held the Quill, 
 Could I digrefs with half that fkill, 
 Could I with half that fkill return, 
 Which we fo much admire in Sterne^^ 
 Where each Dlg7^eJfio7iy feeming vain, 
 And only fit to entertain, 
 Is found, on better recolledion, 
 To have a juft and nice Connedlion, 
 To help the whole with wond'rous art^ 
 Whence it feems idly to depart; 
 Then fliould our readers ne'er accufe 
 Thefe wild excurfions of the. Mule, 
 Ne'er backward turn dull Pages o'er 
 To recolledl what went before;: 
 Deeply imprefs'd, and ever new, 
 Each Image paft fhould ftart to viewj, 
 And We to Dullman now come in. 
 As if we ne'er had abfent been. 
 
 Flave you not feen, when danger's near. 
 The coward check turn white with fertr? 
 Have you not feen, when danger's fled, 
 The fell-fame cheek with joy turn nr/^ 
 
 Thcfe
 
 270 THE GHOST. 
 
 Thefe are low fymptoms which we find 
 Fit only for a vulgar mind. 
 Where honeft features, void of art. 
 Betray the feelings of the heart ; 
 Our DuLLMAN with a face was blefs'd 
 Where no one pafllon was exprefs'd, 
 His eye, in a fjje Jliipor caught, 
 Imply'd a plenteous lack of thought \ 
 Nor was one line that whole face feen in. 
 Which could be juftly charged with meaning. 
 
 To Avarice by hirth ally'd, 
 Debauch'd by Marriage into Pride^ 
 In age grown fond of youthful fporXs, 
 Of Pomps, of Vanities, and Courts, 
 And by fuccefs too mighty made. 
 To love his Country or his Trade, 
 Stiff \\\ opinion, (no rare cafe 
 With Blockheads in, or out of Place) 
 Too weak, and infolent of Soul, 
 To fuffer Reafon's juft controul, 
 But bending, of his ov/n accord. 
 To that trim tranjie?2t toy^ My Lord., 
 
 The
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 27I' 
 
 The dupe of Scots (a fatal race, 
 
 Whom God in wrath contriv'd to place, 
 
 To fcourge our crimes, and gall our pride, 
 
 A conftant thorn in England's fide. 
 
 Whom iirft, our greatnefs to oppofe, 
 
 He in his vengeance mark'd for foes ; 
 
 Then, more to ferve his wrathful ends, 
 
 And more to curfe us^ mark'd for Friends) 
 
 Deep in the ftate, if we give credit 
 
 To Him^ for no one elfe e'er faid it. 
 
 Sworn friend of great Ones not a few, 
 
 Tho' he their Titles only knew. 
 
 And thofe (which envious of his breeding 
 
 Book-worms have charg'd to want of reading) 
 
 Merely to fhew himfeif polite 
 
 He never would pronounce aright ; 
 
 An Orator with whom a hoft 
 
 Of thofe which Rome and Athens boaft, 
 
 \xi all their Pride might not contend. 
 
 Who, with no Pow'rs to recommend, 
 
 Whilfl: Jackey Hume, and Billy Whitehead, 
 
 And Dickey Glover fat delighted. 
 
 Could fpeak whole days in Nature's fpite, 
 
 Juft as thofe able Vei'Je-inen write, 
 
 Great
 
 272 T H E G H O S T. 
 
 Great Dullman from his bed arofe — 
 
 Thrice did he fpit — thrice wip'd his nofe — 
 
 Tlirice flrove to fmile — thrice drove to frown — 
 
 And thrice look'd up — and thrice looked down — 
 
 Then Silence broke --Crape, who am I? 
 
 Crape bow'd, and fmiFd an arch rcp]y, 
 
 Am I not, Crape ? I am, you know, 
 
 Above all thofe who are below. 
 
 Have I not knowledge ? and for Wity 
 
 Money will always purchafe it, 
 
 Nor, if it needful fhould be found, 
 
 Will I grudge ten, or twenty Pound, 
 
 For which the whole ftock may be bought 
 
 Oi fcoimdrel wits not worth a Groat. 
 
 But left I fliould proceed too far, 
 
 ril feel my Friend the M'mifter^ 
 
 (Great Men, Crape, muft not be negleded) 
 
 How he in this point is affected, 
 
 For, as I ftand a magiftrate. 
 
 To ferve him firft, and next the State, 
 
 Perhaps He may not think it fit 
 
 To let his magiftrates have wit. 
 
 Boaft
 
 THE GHOST. 273 
 
 Boaft I not, at this very hour, 
 Thofe large efFedls which troop with pow'r? 
 Am I not mighty in the land ? 
 Do not I lit, whilft others ftand ? 
 Am I not with rich garments grac'd, 
 In feat of honour always plac'd ? 
 And do not Cits of chief degree, 
 Tho' proud to others, bend to me ? 
 
 Have I not, as a Justice ought. 
 The laws fuch wholefome rigour taught, 
 That Fornication^ in difgrace. 
 Is now afraid to fhew her face. 
 And not one Whore thefe walls approaches 
 Unlefs they ride in our own coaches ? 
 And fhall this Fame, an old poor Strumpet, 
 Without our Licence found her Trumpet, 
 And, envious of our City's quiet. 
 In broad Day-light blow up a Riot ? 
 If infolence like this we bear. 
 Where is our State ? our office where ? 
 Farewell all honours of our reign. 
 Farewell the Neck emtobling Chain, 
 
 N n Freedom's
 
 274 THE GHOST. 
 
 Freedom's known badge o'er all the globe, 
 Farewell the Jolemn-Jpreadmg robe, 
 Farewell the Sword, — farewell the Mace, 
 Farewell all Title, Pomp, and Place. 
 Remov'd from Men of high degree, 
 (A lofs to the?ny Crape, not to Me J 
 Banifh'd to Chippenham, or to Frome, 
 DuLLMAN once more fhall ply the Loom. 
 
 Crape, lifting up his hands and eyes, 
 DuLlman — the Loo7n — at Chippenham — cries, 
 If there be Pow'rs which greatnefs love, 
 Which rule below ^ but dwell above ^ 
 Thofe Pow'rs united all fhall join 
 To contradidl the ra{h defign. 
 
 Sooner lliall ftubborn Will lay down 
 His oppoiition with his Gowjt^ 
 Sooner fhall Temple leave the road 
 Which leads to Virtue's mean abode. 
 Sooner fhall Scots this Country quit. 
 And England's Foes be Friends to Pitt, 
 Than Dullman, from his grandeur thrown, 
 Shall wander out-caft, and unkown. 
 
 Sure
 
 THE GHOST. 275 
 
 Sure as that Cane (a Cam there flood 
 Near to a Table^ made of Woody 
 Of dry fine Wood a Table made 
 By fome rare artift in the trade, 
 Who had enjoy'd immortal praife 
 If he had liv'd in Homer's days.) 
 Sure as that Cane^ which once was feen 
 In pride of life all frefli and green, 
 The banks of Indus to adorn; 
 Tl^eny of its leafy honours fhorn, ' 
 According to exadeft rule, 
 Was fafhion'd by the workman's tool, 
 And which at prefent we behold 
 Curioujly polifh'd, crown'd with gold^ 
 With gold well-wrought 'y fure as that Caney 
 Shall never on its native plain 
 Strike root afrefli, fhall never more 
 Flourifh in Tawny India's ihore. 
 So fure fhall Dullman and his race 
 To lateft times this ftation grace. 
 
 Dullman, who all this while had kept 
 His eye-lids clos'd as if He flept, 
 
 N n 2 Now,
 
 276 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Now looking ftedfaftly on Crape, 
 As at fonie God in human fhape — 
 Crape, I proteft, you feem to mc 
 Tp have difcharg'd a Prophecy ; 
 Tes — from the firft it doth appear 
 Planted by Fate, the Dullmans here 
 Have always held a quiet reign, 
 And here fhall to the laft remain. 
 
 Carpe, they're all wrong about this Ghoji — 
 Quite on the wrong fide of the Poft — 
 Blockheads to take it in their head 
 To be a meffage from the dead, 
 For that by Mijfion they defign, 
 A word not half fo good as mine. 
 Crape — here it is — ftart not one doubt — 
 A Plot — a Plot — I've found it out. 
 
 O God ! — cries Crape, — how bleft the nation, 
 Where one Son boafts fuch penetration ! 
 
 Crape, I've not time to tell you now 
 When I difcover'd this, or how\ 
 
 To
 
 THE GHOST. 277 
 
 To St EN TOR go — if he's not there, 
 His place let Bully Norton bear — 
 Our Citizens to Council call — 
 Let ^11 meet — 'tis the caufe of All. 
 Let the three Witneffes attend 
 With Allegations to befriend, 
 To fwear juft fo much, and no more, 
 As We inftrudl them in before. 
 
 Stay — Crape — come back — what, don't you fee 
 Th' effects of this difcov^ery ? 
 DuLLMAN all care and toil endures — 
 The Profit, Crape, will all be Tours. 
 A Mitre J (for, this arduous tafk 
 Perform'd, they'll grant whate'er I afk) 
 A Mitre (and perhaps the beft) 
 Shall thro' my Intereft make thee bleft. 
 And at this time, when gracious Fate 
 Dooms to the Scot the reins of State, 
 Who is more fit (and for your ufe 
 We could fome inftances produce) 
 Of England's Church to be the Head 
 Than You, a Prejbyterian bred ? 
 
 But
 
 278 THE GHOST. 
 
 But when thus mighty you are made, 
 UnUke the Brethren of thy trade, 
 Be greatful, Crape, and let Me not. 
 Like Qld Newcastle, be forgot. 
 
 But an Affair, Crape, of this fize 
 Will aflc from Condudl vaft fupplies ; 
 It muft not, as the Vulgar fay. 
 Be done in Hugger Mugger way. 
 Traitors indeed (and that's difcreet) 
 Who hatch the Plot, in private meet ; 
 They fliould in Public go, no doubt, 
 Whofe bulinefs is to find it out. 
 
 To-morrow — if they day appear 
 Likely to turn out fair and clear — 
 Proclaim a Grand Procejftonade — 
 Be all the City Pomp difplay'd, 
 Let the Train-bands — Crape fhook his head- — 
 They heard the Trumpet and were fled — 
 Well — cries the Knight— if that's the cafe. 
 My Se?'va?7ts (hall fupply their place — 
 My Servants — ??iine aloiie — no more 
 Than what 7ny Servants did before — 
 
 Doft
 
 The ghost. 279 
 
 Doft not remember, Crape, that day, 
 When, Dullman's grandeur to difplay, 
 As all too fimple, and too low. 
 Our City Friends were thruft below, 
 Whilft, as more worthy of our Love, 
 Courtiers were entertain'd above ? 
 Tell me, who waited then ? and how ? 
 My Servants — mine — and why not now? 
 In hafte then. Crape, to Stentor go — 
 But fend up Hart who waits below, 
 With him, 'till You return again 
 (Reach me my SpeEiacles and Cane) 
 I'll make a proof how I advance in 
 My new accomplifhment of dancing. 
 
 Not quite fo fafl: as Lightning flies, 
 Wing'd with red anger, thro' the fkies ; 
 Not quite fo faft as, fent by Jove, 
 Iris defcends on wings of Love; 
 Not quite fo faft as Terror rides 
 When He the chafing winds beftrides ; 
 Crape Hobbled — but his mind was good— 
 Cou'd he go fafter than He cou'd ? 
 
 Near
 
 28o THE GHOST. 
 
 Near to that Towr^ which, as we're told, 
 The mighty Julius rais'd of old, 
 Where to the block by Juftice led, 
 The Rebel Scot hath often bled. 
 Where Arms are kept fo clean, ib bright, 
 'Twere Sin they lliould be foiPd in fight. 
 Where Brutes of foreig?i race are fhewn 
 By Brutes much greater of our own^ 
 Faft by the crouded Thames y is found 
 An ample fquare of facred ground, 
 Where artlefs Eloquence prefides. 
 And Nature ev'ry fentence guides. 
 
 Here Female Parliaments debate 
 About Religion, Trade, and State, 
 Here ev'ry Naiad's Patriot foul, 
 Difdaining Foreign bafe controul, 
 Defpifing French^ defpifing Erfe^ 
 Pours forth the plain Old EngliJIj Curfe, 
 And bears aloft, with terrors hung, 
 The Honours of the Vulgar Tongue, 
 
 Here Stentor, always heard with awe, 
 
 Twelve 
 
 In thund'ring accents deals out Law.
 
 THE GHOST. 281 
 
 Twelve Furlongs off each dreadful word 
 Was plainly and diftindtly heard, 
 And ev'ry neighbour hill around 
 Returned and fwell'd the mighty found. 
 The loudeft Virgin of the ftream, 
 Compared with him^ would filent leem ; 
 Thames (who, enrag'd to find his courfe 
 Oppos'd, rolls down with double force^ 
 Againft the Bridge indignant roars, 
 And lafhes the refounding fhores) 
 Compar'd with him^ at loweft Tide, 
 In foftefl: whifpers feems to glide. 
 
 Hither direded by the noife, 
 S weird with the hope of future joys, 
 Thro' too much zeal and hafte made lame, 
 The Revre7id flave of Dullman came. 
 
 Sthntor — with fuch a ferious air, 
 With iuch a face oi Jokmn care, 
 As might import him to contain 
 A Nation's welfare in his brain — 
 Stentor — cries Crape — I'm hither fent 
 On bufincfs of moft high intent, 
 
 O o Great
 
 282 THE GHOST. 
 
 Great Dullman's orders to convey; 
 
 DuLLMAN commands, and I obey. 
 
 Big with thofe throes which Patriots feel, 
 
 And lab'ring for the common weal, 
 
 Some fecret which forbids him reft, 
 
 Tumbles and Toffes in his breaft, 
 
 Tumbles and Toffes to get free ; 
 
 And thus the Chief commands by Me : 
 
 To-morrow — if the Day appear 
 Likely to turn out fair and clear — 
 Proclaim a Grajid Procejfionade — 
 Be all the City Pomp difplay'd — 
 Our Citizens to Council call — '- 
 Let All meet — 'tis the Caufe of AIL 
 
 END OF THE THIRD BOOK.
 
 THE 
 
 G H O ST. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 /^OXCOMBS^ who vainly make pretence 
 ^-^ To fomething of exalted fenfe 
 'Bove other men, and, gravely wife^ 
 Affed thofe pleafures to defpife, 
 Which, merely to the eye confin'd, 
 Bring no improvement to the mind. 
 Rail at all pomp ; They would not go 
 For millions to a Puppet-Show^ 
 
 O o 2 Nor
 
 284 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Noi* can forgive the mighty crime 
 Of countenancing Pantomime ; 
 No, not at Covent-Garden, where, 
 Without a head for play or play'r, 
 Or, could a head be found moft fit, 
 Without one playV to fecond it. 
 They muft, obeying Folly s call, 
 Tjirive by mere fhew, or not at all. 
 
 With thefe grave Fops, who (blefs their brains) 
 Moft cruel to themfelves, take pains 
 For wretchednefs, and would be thought 
 Much wifer than a wife man ought 
 For his own happinefs to be. 
 Who, what they hear, and what they fee. 
 And what they fmell, and tafte, and feel, 
 Diftruft, till Reason fets her feal. 
 And, by long trains of confequences 
 Enfur'd, gives Sandion to the Senfes ; 
 Who would not, Heav'n forbid it 1 wafte 
 One hour in what the World calls Tafte, 
 Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry 
 Unlefs they know fome reafon why ; 
 
 With
 
 THE GHOST. 285 
 
 With thefe grave Fops, whofe fyftem feems 
 
 To give up Certainty for dreams. 
 
 The Eye of Man is underftood 
 
 As for no other purpofe good 
 
 Than as a door, thro' which of courfe 
 
 Their pafiage crouding objeds force, 
 
 A downright Uflier, to admit 
 
 New-Comers to the Court of Wit. 
 
 (Good Gravity,, forbear thy fpleen 
 
 When I fay Wit^ I Wijdoin mean.) 
 
 Where (fuch the practice of the Court, 
 
 Which legal Precedents fupport). 
 
 Not one Idea is allow'd 
 
 To pafs unqueftion'd in the crowd, 
 
 But e're It can obtain the grace 
 
 Of holding in the brain a place, 
 
 Before the Chief in Congregation 
 
 Muft ftand ^JiriEi Exammation,: 
 
 Not fuch as Thofe^ who Physic twirl, 
 Full fraught with death, from evVy curl. 
 Who prove, with all becoming State, 
 Their voice to be the voice of Fate, 
 
 Prepared
 
 286 THE GHOST. 
 
 Prcpar'd with EJfence^ Dropy and P///, 
 
 To be another Ward, or Hill, 
 
 Before they can obtain their Ends 
 
 To fign Death-warrants for their Friends, 
 
 And talents vaft as their's employ, 
 
 Secundum Arte?n to deftroy, 
 
 MufI: pafs (or Laws their rage reftrain) 
 
 Before the Chiefs of Warwick- Lane, 
 
 Thrice happy La?ie^ where uncontroul'd, 
 
 In Powr and Lethargy grown old, 
 
 Mofi: fit to take, in this bleft Land, 
 
 The reins which fell from Wyndham's hand, 
 
 Her lawful throne great Dullness rears. 
 
 Still more herfelf as more in Years ; 
 
 Where She (and who (hall dare deny 
 
 Her right, when Reeves and Chauncy's by) 
 
 Calling to mind, in antient time. 
 
 One Garth who err'd in Wit and Rhime, 
 
 Ordains from henceforth to admit 
 
 None of the rebel Sons of Wit, 
 
 And makes it her peculiar care 
 
 That ScHOMBERG never fhall be there. 
 
 Not
 
 THE GHOST. 287 
 
 Not fuch as 72(9/^, whom Folly trains 
 To Letters, tho' unblefs'd with brains, 
 Who, deftitute of pow'r and will 
 To learn, are kept to learning ftill; 
 Whofe heads, when other methods fail, 
 Receive inftrudlion from the tail, 
 Becaufe their Sires, a common cafe 
 Which brings the Children to difgrace, 
 Imagine it a certain rule, 
 They never could beget a Fool, 
 Muft pafs, or muft compound for ^ e're 
 The Chaplain^ full of beef and pray'r, 
 Will give his reverend Permit^ 
 Announcing them for Orders fit. 
 So that the Prelate (what's a Name ? 
 All Prelates now are much the fame) 
 May with a confcience fafe and quiet. 
 With holy hands lay on that Fiaty 
 Which doth, all faculties difpenfe, 
 All SanElity^ all Faith^ all Senfcy 
 Makes Mad an quite a Saint appear, 
 And makes an Oracle of Che ere. 
 
 Not
 
 288 THE GHOST. 
 
 Not fuch as in that folemn feat, 
 Where the nine Ladies hold retreat, 
 The Ladies nine^ who, as we're told. 
 Scorning thofc haunts they lov'd of old, 
 The banks of Is is now prefer. 
 Nor will one hour from Oxford ftir. 
 Are held for form ; which Balaam's Afs 
 As well as Balaam's felf might pafs, 
 And with his Mafter take degrees, 
 Could he contrive to pay the Fees. 
 
 Men of found parts, who, deeply read, 
 O'erload the Storehoufe of the head 
 With furniture they ne'er can ufe. 
 Cannot forgive our rambling Mufe 
 This wild excurfion ; cannot fee 
 Why Phyjlc and Divinity ^ 
 To the Surprize of all beholders. 
 Are lugg'd in by the head and fhoulders ; 
 Or how, in any point of view, 
 Oxford hath any thing to do; 
 But Men of nice and fubtle Learning, 
 Remarkable for quick difcerning, 
 
 Thro'
 
 THE GHOST. 289 
 
 Thro* Spedlacles of critic mould, 
 Without inftrudlion, will behold 
 That We a Method here have got, 
 To fhew What is, by What is not. 
 And that our drift (Parenthejis 
 For once apart) is briefly this. 
 
 Within the brain's moft fecret cells, 
 A certain Lord Chtefjuftice dwells 
 Of fovVeign pow'r, whom One and All, 
 With commonVoice, We Reason callj 
 Tho', for the purpofes of Satire, 
 A name in Truth is no great Matter, 
 Jefferies or Mansfield, which You will. 
 It means a hord Chief Juftice flill. 
 HerCy fo our great Projectors fay, 
 The Senfes all muft homage pay. 
 Hither They all muft tribute bring. 
 And proftrate fall before their King. 
 Whatever unto them is brought, 
 Is carry 'd on the wings of Thought ' 
 
 Before his throne, where, in full ftatc. 
 He on their merits holds debate, 
 
 P p Examines,
 
 290 THE GHOST. 
 
 Examines, Crofs-examines, Weighs 
 Their right to cenfure or to praife ; 
 Nor doth his equal voice depend 
 On narrow Views of foe and friend, 
 Nor can or flattery or force 
 Divert him from his fteady courfe ; 
 The Channel of Enquiry's clear, 
 No pam ExaminaUon\ here. 
 
 He, upright Jufticer, no doubt. 
 Ad libitum puts in and out, 
 Adjufts and fettles in a trice 
 What Virtue is, and What is Vice, 
 What is Perfedion, what Defed, 
 What we muft chufe, and what rejecTr ; 
 He takes upon him to explain 
 What Pleafure is, and what is Pain, 
 Whilft We, obedient to the Whim, 
 And refting all our faith on him. 
 True Members of the Stoic weal, 
 Muft leajn to think, and ceafe to feel. 
 
 This glorious Syftem form'd, for Man 
 To pradife when and how he can, 
 
 If
 
 THE GHOST. 291 
 
 If the five Senfcs in alliance 
 
 To Reafon hurl a proud defiance, 
 
 And, tho' oft conquer'd, yet unbrokc, 
 
 Endeavour to throw off that yoke, 
 
 Which they a greater flavVy hold, 
 
 Than Jewifh Bondage was of old ; 
 
 Or if They, fomething touch'd with fhame, 
 
 Allow him to retain the name 
 
 Of Royalty, and, as in Sport, 
 
 To hold a mimic formal Court ; 
 
 Permitted, no uncommon thing, 
 
 To be a kind of Puppet King, 
 
 And fuffer'd, by the way of toy, 
 
 To hold a globe, but not employ; 
 
 Our Syjl em-mongers^ ftruck with fear, 
 
 Prognofticate deftrudlion near; 
 
 All things to Anarchy muft run; 
 
 The little World of Man's undone. 
 
 Nay fhould the Eye^ that niceft Senfe, 
 Negled to fend intelligence 
 Unto the Brain, diftindl and clear. 
 Of all that paffes in her fphere, 
 
 P p 2 Should
 
 292 THE GHOST. 
 
 Should She prefumptuous joy receive, 
 
 Without the Underftanding's leave, 
 
 They deem it rank and daring Treafon 
 
 Againft the Monarchy of Reason, 
 
 Not thinking, tho' they're wondrous wife, 
 
 That icw have P^eafon^ moft have Eyes \ 
 
 So that the Pleafures of the Mind 
 
 To a fmall circle are confined, 
 
 Whiift thofe v/hich to the Senfes fall. 
 
 Become the Property of All, 
 
 Befides (and this is fure a Cafe 
 
 Not much at prefent out of place) 
 
 Where Nature Reafon doth deny^ 
 
 No Art can that defed fupply, 
 
 But if (for it is our intent 
 
 Fairly to ftate the argument) 
 
 A Man fliould want an eye or two. 
 
 The Remedy is fure, tho' new ; 
 
 The Cure's at hand — no need of Fear — 
 
 For proof — behold the Chevalier — 
 
 As well prepar'd, beyond all doubt, 
 
 To put Eyes in, as put them out. 
 
 Butj
 
 THE GHOST, 293 
 
 But, Argument apart, which tends 
 T' embitter foes, and fep'rate friends, 
 (Nor, turn'd apoftate for the Nine^ 
 Would I, tho' bred up a Divine, 
 And {q^ of courfe to Reafon's weal, 
 Widen that breach I cannot heal) 
 By his own Senfe and Feelings taught, 
 In fpeech as libVal as m thought, 
 Let ev'ry Man enjoy his whim ; 
 What's He to Me, or I to him ? 
 Mieht I, tho' never rob'd in Er??jine^ 
 A matter of this weight determine, 
 No Penalties fhould fettled be 
 To force men to Hypocrify, . 
 To make them ape an awkward zeal, 
 And, feeling not, pretend to feel. 
 I would not have, might fentencc refl: 
 Finally fix'd within my breaft. 
 E'en Annex cenfur'd and coniin'd, 
 Becaufe we're of a diff'rent mind. 
 
 Nature, who in her adl mod free, 
 Herfelf delights in Liberty, 
 
 Profufe
 
 294 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Profufe in Love, and, without bound. 
 Pours joy on cv'ry creature round ; 
 "Whom yet, was ev'ry bounty flied 
 In double Portions on our head, 
 We could not truly bounteous call. 
 If Freedom did not crown them all. 
 
 By Providence forbid to fl:ray, 
 Br'iites never can miftake their way, 
 Determin'd ftill, they plod along 
 By Inftind, neither right nor wrong ; 
 But Man, had he the heart to ufe 
 riis Freedom, hath a right to chufe, 
 Whether He ads or well, or ill, 
 Depends entirely on his will ; 
 To her laft work, her fav'rite Man, 
 Is giv'n on Nature's better plan 
 A Privilege in pow'r to ^; r, 
 Nor let this phrafe refentnjcnt ftir* 
 Amonp-fl: the grave ones, fince indeed. 
 The little merit Man can plead 
 In doing well, dependeth ftill 
 Upon his pow'r of doing ill. 
 
 Opinions
 
 THE G H O S T. 295 
 
 Opinions fliould be free as air ; 
 
 No man, whate'er his rank, whatever 
 
 His Qualities, a claim can found 
 
 That my Opinion muft be bound, 
 
 And fquare with his ; fuch flavifh chains 
 
 From foes the lib'ral foul difdains, 
 
 Nor can, tho' true to friendflbip, bend 
 
 To wear them even from a friend. 
 
 Let Thofe, who rigid Judgment own, 
 Submiffive bow at Judgment's throne, 
 And if They of no value hold 
 Pleafure, till Pleafure is grown cold, 
 Pall'd and infipid, forc'd to wait 
 For Judgment's regular debate 
 To give it warrant, let them find 
 Dull Subjects fuited to their mind ; 
 Their's be flow Wifdom ; Be my plan 
 To live as merry as I can, 
 Regardlefs as the fafliions go. 
 Whether there's Reafon for't, or no ; 
 Be my employment here on earth 
 To give a lib'ral fcope to mirth, 
 Life's barren vale with ilow'rs t' adorn, 
 And pluck a rofe from ev'ry thorn. 
 
 But
 
 2g6 THE GHOST, 
 
 But if, by Error led aftray, 
 I chance to wander from my way, 
 Let no blind guide obferve, in fpite, 
 I'm wrong, who cannot fet me right. 
 That Dodor could I ne'er endure, 
 Who found difeafe, and not a cure, 
 Nor can I hold that man a friend, 
 Whofe zeal a helping hand flmll lend 
 To open happy Folly's eyes, 
 And, making wretched, make me wife; 
 For next, a Truth which can't admit 
 Reproof from Wifdom or from Wit, 
 To l>eh7g happy here below, 
 Is to believe that we are fo. 
 
 Some few in htowleJge find relief, •' 
 
 I place my comfort in belief. 
 Some for Reality may call. 
 Fancy to me is All in All. 
 hnagination^ thro' the trick 
 Of Dodors, often makes us fick, 
 And why, let any Sophift tell, 
 May it not likewife make us well? 
 
 Thi 
 
 IS
 
 THE GHOST, 297 
 
 This am I fure, whate'er our view, 
 V/hatever fhadows we purfue, 
 For our purfuits, be what they will, 
 Are little more than fhadows ftill, 
 Too fvvift they fly, too fwift and ftrong. 
 For man to catch, or hold them long. 
 But Joys which in the Fancy live, 
 Each moment to each man may give. 
 True to himfelf, and true to eafe, 
 He foftens Fate's fevere decrees. 
 And (can a Mortal wifli for more ? ) 
 Creates, and makes himfelf new o'er, 
 Mocks boafted vain Reality^ 
 And /f, whate'er he wants to Be. 
 
 Hail, Fancy — to thy pow'r I owe 
 Deliv'rance from the gripe of Woe, 
 To Thee I owe a mighty debt. 
 Which Gratitude fhall ne'er forget, 
 Whilft Mcm'ry can her force employ, 
 A large encreafe of ev'ry joy. 
 When at my doors, too ftrongly barr'd, 
 Authority had plac'd a ^uard.
 
 298 THE GHOST. 
 
 A Inavljlj guard, ordain'd by Law 
 
 To keep poor Honejly in awe ; 
 
 yluthority^ fevere and ftern, 
 
 To intercept my wifli'd return ; 
 
 When Foes grew proud, and Friends grew cool^ 
 
 And Lauphter feiz'd each fober fool ; 
 
 Vv^hen Candour ftarted in amaze, 
 
 And, meaning cenfure, hinted praife ; 
 
 When Prudence, lifting up her eyes 
 
 And hands, thank'd Heav'n, that fhe was wife ; 
 
 When All around Me, with an air 
 
 Of hopelefs Sorrow, look'd Defpair, 
 
 W^hen They or faid, or feem'd to fay, 
 
 There is but one, one only way ; 
 
 Better, and be advised by us. 
 
 Not be at all, than to be thus ; 
 
 When Virtue fhunn'd the fhock, and Pride 
 
 Difabled, lay by Virtue's lide. 
 
 Too weak my ruffled foul to chear, 
 
 Which could not hope, yet would not fear^ 
 
 Health in her motion, the wild grace 
 
 Of Pleafure fpeaking in her face, 
 
 Dull Regularity thrown by. 
 
 And Comfort beaming from her eye, 
 
 Fancv,
 
 THE GHOST. 299 
 
 Fancy, in richeft robes array 'd, 
 Came fmiling forth, and brought me aid, 
 Came fmiHng o'er that dreadful time, 
 And, more to blefs me, came in Rhitm, 
 
 Nor is her Pow'r to Me confined, 
 It fpreads. It comprehends Mankind. 
 
 When (to the Spirit-ftirring found 
 Of Trumpets breathing Courage round, 
 And Fifes, well mingled to reftrain, 
 And bring that Courage down again, 
 Or to the melancholy knell 
 Of the dull, deep, and doleful bell. 
 Such as of late the good Saint Bride 
 Muffled, to mortify the pride 
 Of thofe, who, England quite forgot, 
 Paid their vile homage to the Scot, 
 Where Asgill held the foremoft place, 
 Whilft my Lord figur'd at a race) 
 ProcejJlo77s ('tis not worth debate 
 Whether They are of Stage or State) 
 Move on, fo very very flow, 
 'Tis doubtful if they move or no ; 
 
 Q^q 2 When
 
 300 THE G FI O S T. 
 
 When the Performers all the while 
 
 Mechanically Frown or fniile, 
 
 Or, with a dull and ftupid ftare, 
 
 A vacancy of Senfe declare. 
 
 Or, with dovvn-bending eye, feem wrought. 
 
 Into a Labyrinth of Thought, 
 
 Where Reafon wanders ftill in doubt. 
 
 And, once got in, cannot get out j 
 
 What caufe fufficient can we find 
 
 To fatisfy a thinking mind, 
 
 Why, dup'd by fuch vain farces, Man 
 
 Dcfcends to a6l on fuch a plan ? 
 
 Why They, who hold themfelves divine. 
 
 Can in fuch v/retched follies join, 
 
 Strutting like Peacocks, or like Crows, 
 
 The77ifelves and Nature to expofe ? 
 
 What Caufe, but that (you'll underftand 
 
 We have our Remedy at hand. 
 
 That if perchance we ftart a doubt, 
 
 Ere it is fix'd, we wipe it out, 
 
 As Surgeons, when they lop a limb. 
 
 Whether for Profit, Fame, or Whim, 
 
 Or mere experiment to try, 
 
 Muft always have a Styptic by) 
 
 Fancy
 
 THE GHOST. 301 
 
 Fancy fleps in, and flamps that real^ 
 ¥/hich, ipjo faBo^ is IcUaL 
 
 Can none remember, yes, I know, 
 All mufi: remember that rare £how, 
 When to the Country Sense went down, 
 And Fools came flocking up to Town, 
 When Knights (a work which all admit 
 To be for Knighthood much unfit) 
 Built booths for hire; when Parfons play'd. 
 In robes Cano7iicai array 'd, 
 And, Fiddling, join'd the Smhhjield dance. 
 The price of Tickets to adv^ance ; 
 Or, unto Tapfters turn'd, dealt out. 
 Running from Booth to Booth about. 
 To ev'ry Scoundrel, by retail. 
 True pennyworths of Beef and Ale, 
 Then firfl: prepar'd, by bringing beer in, 
 For pre fen t grand EkBioneering ; 
 When Heralds^ running all about 
 To bring in Order, turn'd it Out ; 
 When, by the pt^udent MarJJjal\ care, 
 Left the rude populace fhould ftare, 
 
 And
 
 302 THE GHOST. 
 
 And with unhallow'd eyes profane 
 
 Gay Puppets of Patrician ftrain, 
 
 The whole Proceffion, as in fpite, 
 
 Unheard, unfeen, ftole off by Night ; 
 
 When our Lov'd Monarch, nothing loth, 
 
 Solemnly took that facred oath, 
 
 Whence mutual firm agreements fpring 
 
 Betwixt the SubjeSi^ and the King^ 
 
 By which, in ufual manner crown'd. 
 
 His Head^ his Hearty his Hands he bound, 
 
 Againft himfelfy fhould Paffion ftir 
 
 The leaft Propenfity to err, 
 
 Againft all Slaves^ who might prepare 
 
 Or open force, or hidden fnare. 
 
 That glorious Charter to maintain, 
 
 By "johich Weferve^ and He miift reign ; 
 
 Then Fancy, with unbounded fway, 
 
 Revell'd fole Miftrefs of the day. 
 
 And wrought fuch wonders, as might make 
 
 Egyptian Sorcerers forfake 
 
 Their baffled mockeries, and own 
 
 Tlie Palm of Magic Her's alone. 
 
 A
 
 THE GHOST. 303 
 
 A Knight (who in the lilken lap 
 
 Of lazy Peace, had liv'd on Pap, 
 
 Who never yet had dar'd to roam 
 
 'Bove ten or twenty miles from home, 
 
 Nor even that, unlefs a Guide 
 
 Was plac'd to amble by his fide, 
 
 And troops of Slaves were fpread around 
 
 To keep his Honour fafe and found, 
 
 Who could not fufFer for his life 
 
 A Point to fword, or Edge to knife, 
 
 And always fainted at the fight 
 
 Of Blood, tho' 'twas not fhed in fight, 
 
 Who difinherited one Son 
 
 For firing off an Elder Gun, 
 
 And whipt another, fix years old, 
 
 Becaufe the Boy, prefumptuous, bold 
 
 To Madnefs, likely to become 
 
 A very Swifs, had beat a drum, 
 
 Tho' it appear'd an inftrument 
 
 Moft peaceable and hujocetity 
 
 Having from firft been in the hands 
 
 And fervice of the City Bands) 
 
 Grac'd with thofe enfigns, which were meant 
 
 To further Honour's dread intent, 
 
 Tiic
 
 304 THE G H O S 1 
 
 The Minds of Warriors to inflame, 
 
 And ipur them on to deeds of Fame, 
 
 V/ith little Sword, large Spurs, high Feather, 
 
 Fearlefs of ev'ry thing but Weather, 
 
 (And all mufl; own, who pay regard 
 
 To Charity, it had been hard 
 
 That in his very iirft Campaign 
 
 His Homurs fliould be foil'd with rain) 
 
 A Hero all at oijce became. 
 
 And ffeein^ others much the fame 
 
 In point of Valour as himfelf, 
 
 Who leave their Courage on a fhelf 
 
 From Year to Year, till fome fuch rout 
 
 In proper feafon calls it out) 
 
 Strutted, look'd big, and fvvagger'd more 
 
 Than ever Hero did before, 
 
 Look'd up, Look'd down, Look'd all around, 
 
 Like Mavors, grimly fmil'd and frown'd, 
 
 Seem'd Heav'n, and Earth, and Hell to call 
 
 To fight, that he might rout them all, 
 
 And perfonated Valour's ftyle 
 
 So long, Spectators to beguile, 
 
 That pafling ftrange, and wondrous true, 
 
 Himfelf at laft believ'd it too, 
 
 Nor
 
 THE GHOST. 305 
 
 Nor for a time could he difcera 
 Till Truth and Darknefs took their turiij 
 So well did Fancy play her part, 
 That Coward ftill was at the heart. 
 
 Whiffle (who knows not Whipple's name. 
 By the impartial voice of fame 
 Recorded firft, thro' all this land, 
 In Vanity's illuftrious band ?) 
 Who, by all bounteous Nature meant 
 For offices of hardiment, 
 A modern Hercules at leaft. 
 To rid the world of each wild beaft, 
 Of each wild beaft which came in view. 
 Whether on four legs or on two, 
 Degenerate, delights to prove 
 His force on the Parade of Love, 
 Difclaims the joys which camps affiDrd, 
 And for the DiftafF quits the fword ; 
 Who fond of women would appear 
 To public eye, and public ear. 
 But, wheq|ii| private, let's them know 
 How little they can truft to fhow; 
 
 R r ' Who
 
 3o6 THE GHOST. 
 
 Who fports a Woman, as of courfe, 
 
 Juft as a Jockey fliews a horfe, 
 
 And then returns her to the liable, 
 
 Or vainly plants her at his table. 
 
 Where he would rather Venus find, 
 
 (So paird, and fo deprav'd his mind) 
 
 Than, by fome great occafion led, 
 
 To feize Her panting in her bed, 
 
 Burning with more than mortal fires, 
 
 And melting in her own defires ; 
 
 Who,- ripe in years, is yet a child, 
 
 Thro' fafhion, not thro' feeling, wild ;. 
 
 Whate'er in others, who proceed ^ 
 
 As Senfe and Nature have decreed. 
 
 From real paflion flows, in him 
 
 Is mere effed; of mode and whim ; 
 
 Who Laughs, a very common way, 
 
 Becaufe he nothing has to fay, 
 
 As your choke Spirits oaths difpenfc 
 
 To fill up vacancies of Senfe ; 
 
 Who, having fome fmall Senfe, defies it. 
 
 Or, ufing, always mifapplies it ; 
 
 Who now and then brings fomething forth. 
 
 Which fcems indeed of Sterling Worth, 
 
 Some-
 
 THE GHOST. 307 
 
 Something, by fudden Start and Fit, 
 Which at a diftance looks hke wit, 
 But, on Examination near, 
 To his confufion will appear 
 By Truth's fair glafs, to be at beft 
 A Threadbare Jefter's threadbare jeft; 
 Who frifks and dances thro' the ftreet. 
 Sings without voice, rides without feat, 
 Plays o'er his tricks, like JEsov's Afs, 
 A gratis fool to all who pafs ; 
 Who riots, tho' he loves not wafte, 
 Whores without luft, drinks without tafte. 
 Ads without fenfe, talks without thought. 
 Does every thing but what he ought, 
 Who, led by forms, without the pow'r 
 Of Vice, is Vicious, who one hour, 
 Proud without Pride, the next will be 
 Humble without Humility; 
 Whofe Vanity we all difcern. 
 The Spring on which his actions turn ; 
 Whofe aim in erring, is to err. 
 So that he may be fingular, 
 And all his utmoft wifhes mean, 
 Is, tho' he's laugh'd at, to be feen, 
 
 R r 2 SucA
 
 3o8 THE GHOST. 
 
 Such (for when Flattery's footliing ftraiii 
 Had robb'd the Miife of her difdain, 
 And found a method to perfuade 
 Her art, to foften ev'ry fhade, 
 Justice enrag'd, the pencil fnatch'd 
 From her degen'rate hand, and fcratch'd 
 Out ev'ry trace ; then, quick as thought, 
 From hfe this ftriking Hkenefs caught) 
 In Mind, in MannerSj and in Mien, 
 Such Whiffle came, and fuch was feen 
 In the World's eye, but (ftrange to tell !) 
 Milled by Fancy's magic fpell, 
 Deceiv'd, not dreaming of deceit,. 
 Cheated, but happy in the cheat,. 
 Was more than human in his own. 
 O bow, bow All at Fancy's throne, 
 Whofe Pow'r could make fo vile an Elf, 
 With Patience bear that thing, himjelf. 
 
 But, Miftrefs of each art to pleafe. 
 Creative Fancy, what are thefe, 
 77^^ Pageants of a trifler's Pen, 
 To what thy Pow'r effeded then ? 
 
 Familiar
 
 THE GHOST. 309 
 
 Familiar with the human mind, 
 As fwift and fubtle as the wind. 
 Which we all feel, yet no one knows 
 Or whence it comes, or where it goes, 
 Fancy at once in evVy part 
 Poffefs'd the Eye, the Head, the Heart, 
 And in a thoufand forms array 'd, 
 A thoufand various gambols play'd. 
 
 Here^ in a Face which well might afk- 
 The Privilege to wear a maik 
 In fpite of Law, and Juftice teach 
 For public good t'excufe the breach. 
 Within the furrow of a wrinkle 
 'TwixtEyes, which could not fhine but twinkle, 
 Like Centinels i' th' ftarry way,. 
 Who wait for the return of day 
 Almofl: burnt out, and feem to keep 
 Their watch, like Soldiers, in their fleep, 
 Or like thofe lamps which, by the powV 
 Of Law, niuft burn from hour to hour, 
 (Elfe they, without redemption, fall 
 Under the terrors of that Hall, 
 
 Which,
 
 310 THE GHOST. 
 
 Which, once notorious for a hopj 
 
 Is now become a Jiiflice-Jljop) 
 
 Which are fo manag'd, to go out 
 
 Juft when the time comes round about, 
 
 Which yet thro' emulation ftrive 
 
 To keep their dying Hght alive. 
 
 And (not uncommon, as we find, 
 
 Amongfi: the children of mankind) 
 
 As they grow weaker, would feem ftronger, 
 
 And burn a little, little longer; 
 
 Fancy, betwixt fuch eyes enfhrin'd, 
 
 No brufh to daub, no mill to grind. 
 
 Thrice wav'd her wand around, whofe force 
 
 Changed in an inftant Nature's courfe, 
 
 And, hardly credible in Rhime, 
 
 Not only flopp'd, but call'd back Time. 
 
 The Face, of cv'ry wrinkle clear'd, 
 
 Smooth as the floating ftream appear'd, 
 
 Down the Neck ringlets fpread their flame, 
 
 The Neck admiring whence they came; 
 
 On the Arch'd Brow the Graces play'd ; 
 
 On the full Bofom Ctipid laid ; 
 
 Su?iSy from their proper orbits fent, 
 
 Recame for Eyes a fupplement ; 
 
 Teeth,
 
 THE GHOST. 311 
 
 Teeth, white as ever Teeth were {qqh 
 Deliver'd from the hand of Green, 
 Started, in regular array. 
 Like Train-Bands on a grand Field-day, 
 Into the Gums, which would have fled, 
 But, wondVing, turn'd from white to red, 
 Quite alter'd was the whole machine. 
 And Lady was fifteen. 
 
 Here She made lordly temples rife 
 Before the pious Dashwood's eyes. 
 Temples which built aloft in air. 
 May ferve for fliow, if not for pray'r y 
 In folemn form Herfelf, before, 
 Array'd like Fakh^ the Bible bore. 
 There^ over Melcomb's feather'd head,. 
 Who, quite a man of Gingerbread, 
 Savour'd in talk, in drefs, and phyz. 
 More of another World than this. 
 To a dwarf Mufe a Giant Page^ 
 The laft grave Fop of the laft Age, 
 In a fuperb and feather'd hearfe, 
 BefciUcheon d and betaggd with Verfc, 
 
 Which,
 
 o 
 
 12 
 
 THE G H O S 
 
 Which, to Beholders from afar, 
 
 Appeared like a tiiuniphal Car, 
 
 She rode, in a cq/I Rainbow clad ; 
 
 TTjjre, throwing off* the hall(rsjd plald^ 
 
 Naked, as when (ia thofe drear Cells 
 
 \Y\\{ir^, Self-Mefi d, Self-curi d, Madness dwells), 
 
 Pleasure, on whom, in Laughters fhape, 
 
 Frenzy had perfeclcd a rape, 
 
 Firft brought her forth, before her time, 
 
 Wild Witnefs of her fhame and crime, 
 
 Driving before an Idol band 
 
 Of driveling Stuarts, hand in hand. 
 
 Some, who to curfe Mankind, had Wore 
 
 A Crown they ne'er muft think of more. 
 
 Others, whofe baby brows were grac'd 
 
 With Paper Crowns, and Toys of Pafte, 
 
 She Jigg'd, and playing on the Flute, 
 
 Spread raptures o'er the foul of Bute. 
 
 Big with vaft hopes, fome mighty plan, 
 Which wrought the bufy foul of man 
 To her full bent, the Civil Law, 
 Fit Code to keep a world in awe. 
 
 Bound
 
 THE GHOST. 313 
 
 Bound o'er his brows, fair to behold, 
 
 As yewijh Frontlets were of old. 
 
 The famous Charter of our land, 
 
 Defac'd, and mangled in his hand ; 
 
 As one whom, deepeft thoughts employ. 
 
 But deepeft thoughts of trueft joy, 
 
 Serious and flow he ftrode, he ftalk'd. 
 
 Before him troops of Heroes walk'd. 
 
 Whom beft He lov'd, of Heroes crown'd, 
 
 By Tories guarded all around. 
 
 Dull folemn pleafure in his face, 
 
 He faw the honours of his race. 
 
 He faw their lineal glories rife, 
 
 And touch'd, or feem'd to touch the fkies. 
 
 Not the moft diftant mark of fear. 
 
 No fign oi axBj 01 f caff old near. 
 
 Not one curs'd thought, to crofs his will, 
 
 Of fuch a place as Tower Hill. 
 
 Curfe on this Mufe^ a flippant Jade, 
 A Shrew, like cvVy other Maid 
 Who turns the corner of nineteen, 
 Devoured with pceviflmefs and fpleen. 
 
 S s Tier
 
 314 THE G H O S T^ 
 
 Her Tongue (for as, when bound for life,. 
 The Hufband fuifcrs for the Wife, 
 So if in any works of rhime 
 Perchance there blunders out a crime, 
 Poor Culprit Bards muft always rue it,. 
 Altho' 'tis plain the Mufes do it) 
 Sooner or later cannot fail 
 To fend me headlong to a jail. 
 Whatever my theme (our themes we chufs 
 In modern days without a Mufe^ 
 Juft as a Father will provide 
 To join a Bridegroom and a Bride^ 
 As if, tho' they muft be the Play'rs, 
 The game was wholly /j/>, not theirs) 
 Whate'er my theme, the Mufe, who ftill 
 Owns no diredion but her will, 
 
 Flies oflf, and, ere I could exped, 
 
 By ways oblique and indired", 
 
 At once quite over head and ears. 
 
 In fatal Tolitics appears ; 
 
 Time was, and, if I ought' difcera 
 
 Of Fate, that Time fliall foon retunij, 
 
 When decent and demure at leall, 
 
 As grave and dull as any Prieft,, 
 
 I could
 
 THE GHOST. 315 
 
 I could fee Vice in robes array'd, 
 Could fee the game of Folly play'd 
 Succefsfully in Fortune's fchool, 
 Without exclaimino; roo;ue or fool ; 
 Time was, when nothing loth or proud, 
 I lacquied, with the fawning crowd, 
 Scoundrels in Office, and would bow 
 To Cyphers great in place ; but now 
 Upright I ftand, as if wife Fate, 
 To compliment a fhatter'd ftate, 
 Had me, like Atlas, hither fent 
 To fhoulder up the firmament. 
 And if I ftoop'd, with gen'ral crack 
 The Heavens would tumble from my back ; 
 Time was, when rank and fituation 
 Secur'd the great Ones of the Nation 
 From all controul ; Satire and Law 
 Kept only little Knaves in awe, 
 \ But now. Decorum loft, I ftand 
 Be??2us'dy a Pencil in my hand, 
 And, dead to ev'ry fenfe of fhame, 
 Carelefs of Safety and of Fame, 
 The names of Scoundrels minute down. 
 And Libel more than half the Town. 
 
 S s 2 How
 
 3i6 THE G H O S T. 
 
 How can a Statcfman be fecure 
 In all his Villanies, if poor 
 And dirty Authors thus fhall dare 
 To lay his rotten bofom bare ? 
 Mufes ftiould pafs away their time, 
 In dreffing out the Poet's rhime 
 With Bills and Ribbands, and array 
 Each line in harmlefs tafle, tho' gay. 
 When the hot burning Fit is on. 
 They fhould regale their reftlefs Son 
 With fomething to allay his rage. 
 Some cool Caftalian Beverage, 
 Or fome fuch draught (tho' They^ 'tis plain, 
 Taking the Mufes name in vain. 
 Know nothing of their real court, 
 And only fable from report) 
 As makes a Whitehead's Ode go down. 
 Or flakes the Feverette of Brow7i : 
 But who would in his Senfes think 
 Of Mufes Giving gall to drink. 
 Or that their folly fhould afford 
 To raving Poets Gun or Sword? 
 Poets were ne'er defign'd by fate 
 To meddle with affairs of State, 
 
 Nor
 
 THE GHOST. 317 
 
 Nor {hould (if we may fpeak our thought 
 
 Truely as men of Honour ought) 
 
 Sound Policy their rage admit, 
 
 To Launch the thunderbolts of Wit 
 
 About thofe heads, which, when they're fhot, 
 
 Cant't tell if 'twas by Wit, or not. 
 
 Thefe things well known, what Devil in fpitc 
 Can have feduc'd me thus to write 
 Out of that road, which mufl: have led 
 To riches, without heart or head, 
 Into that road, which, had I raore 
 Than ever Poet had before, 
 Of Wit and Virtue, in difgrace 
 W^ould keep me ftill, and out of place, 
 Which, if fome Judge (You'll underftand 
 One famous, famous thro' the land 
 For making Law) fhould ftand my friend, 
 At laft may in a Pill'ry end. 
 And all this, I myfelf admit, 
 Without one caufe to lead to it. 
 
 For inftance nov/ — this book — the Ghost — 
 Methinks I hear fome Critic Poft 
 
 Remark
 
 ?i8 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Remark moft gravely — " The firft word 
 Which we about the Ghoft have heard.'* 
 Peace my good Sir — not quite fo faft — 
 What is the firft, may be the laft. 
 Which is a point, all muft agree, 
 Gannot depend on You or Me. 
 Fanny, no Ghoft of common mould, 
 Is not by forms to be controul'd, 
 To keep her ftate, and fhew her feill, 
 She never comes but when fhe will. 
 I wTote and wrote (perhaps you doubt. 
 And fhrewdly, what I wrote about, 
 Believe me, much to my difgrace, 
 I too am in the felf-fame cafe) 
 But ftill I wrote, till Fanny came 
 Impatient, nor could any fhame 
 On me with equal juftice fall, 
 
 If She had never come at all. 
 
 An Underling, I could not ftir 
 
 V/ithout the Cue throv/n out by her, 
 
 Nor from the fubjedl aid receive 
 
 Until She came, and gave me leave. 
 
 So that (Ye Sons of Erudition 
 
 Mark, this is but a fappcfition, 
 
 Nor
 
 THE GHOST. 519 
 
 Nor would I to fo wife a nation 
 
 Suggeft it as a Revelation) 
 
 If henceforth dully turning o'er 
 
 Page after Page, Ye read no more 
 
 Of Fannv, who, in Sea or Air, 
 
 May be departed God knows where, 
 
 Rail at jilt Fortune, but agree 
 
 No cenfiire can be laid on me, 
 
 For fure (the caufe letM-ANSFiELD try) 
 
 Fanny is in the fault, not I. 
 
 But to return — and this I hold, 
 A fecret worth its weight in gold 
 To thofe who write, as I write now. 
 Not to mind where they go, or how, 
 Thro' ditch, thro' bog, o'er hedge and ftile, 
 Make it but worth the Reader's while. 
 And keep a pafiage fair and plain 
 Always to bring him back again. 
 Thro' dirt, who fcruples to approach, 
 At pleafure's call, to take a coach. 
 But we fliould think the man a clown 
 Who in the dirt fliould fet us down? 
 
 But
 
 320 THE GHOST. 
 
 But to return — if Wit, who ne'er 
 The fliackles of reftrain could bear, 
 In wayward humour fliould refufe 
 Her timely fuccour to the Miife^ 
 And to no rules and orders tied 
 Roughly deny to be her guide, 
 She mufl: renounce Decorums plan, 
 And set back when, and how fhe can, 
 As Farjons^ who, without pretext, 
 As foon as mention'd, quit their text, 
 And, to promote Sleep's genial pow'r, 
 Grope in the dark for half an hour, 
 Give no more Reafon (for we know 
 Reafon is vulgar, mean, and lov/,) 
 Why they come back (fhould it befal 
 That ever they come back at all) 
 Into the road, to end their rout. 
 Than they can give Why they went out. 
 
 But to return — this Book — the Ghost — 
 A mere amufement at the moft, 
 A trifle, fit to wear away 
 The horrors of a rainy day, 
 
 A flight
 
 THE GHOST. 521 
 
 A flight fliot fllkj for fummer wear, 
 Juft as our modern Statefmen are, 
 If rigid honefly permit 
 That I for once purloin the Wit 
 Of him, who, w^ere we all to fteal, 
 Is much too rich the theft to feel. 
 Yet in this Book, where Eafe fhould join 
 With Mirth tofugar ev'ry line. 
 Where it fhould all be mere Chit Chat^ 
 Lively, Good-humour'd, and all thaty 
 Where honejl Satire, in difgrace. 
 Should not fo much as fliew her face, 
 The Shrew, o'erleaping all due bounds, 
 Breaks into Laughter's facred grounds. 
 And, in contempt, plays o'er her tricks- 
 In Science^ Trade^ and Politics, 
 
 » 
 But why fhould the diftemper'd Scold 
 Attempt to blacken Men enrolfd 
 In Pow'r's dread book, whofe mighty fkill 
 Can twift an Empire to their will, 
 Whofe Voice is Fate, and on their tongue 
 JLazUy Liberty.^ and hife are hung, 
 
 T t Whom,
 
 3 22 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Whom, on enquirVj Truth fhall find, 
 
 With Stuarts linK d^ time out of mind 
 
 Superior to their Country's Laws, 
 
 Defenders of a Tyrant's caufe. 
 
 Men, who the fame damn'd maxims hold 
 
 Darkly^ which they avow'd of old, 
 
 Who, tho' by dilf'rent means, purfue 
 
 The end which they had firft in view, 
 
 And, force found vain, now play their part 
 
 With much lefs Honour, much more Art? 
 
 Why, at the corners of the Streets, 
 
 To ev'ry Patriot drudge She meets, 
 
 Known or unknown, wuth furious cry 
 
 Should She wild clamours vent, or why, 
 
 The minds of Grotindli7igs to enflame, 
 
 A Dash WOOD, Bute, and Wyndham name? 
 
 Why, having not to our furprize 
 
 The fear of death before her Eyes, 
 
 Bearing, and that but now and then. 
 
 No other weapon but her pen, 
 
 •Should She an argument aiiord 
 
 For blood, to Men who wear afword^ 
 
 Men, who can nicely trim and pare 
 
 A point pf Honour to a hair, 
 
 (Honour
 
 THE GHOST. 32J 
 
 (Honour — a Word of nice import, 
 A pretty trinket in a Court, 
 Which mj Lord quite in rapture feels 
 DangUng, and rattHng with his Seals — 
 Honour — a Word, which all the iV/>;^ 
 Would be much puzzled to define — 
 Honour — a Word which torture mocks 
 And might confound a thoufand Locke s — - 
 Which (for I leave to wifer heads,, 
 Who fields of death prefer to beds 
 Of down, to find out, if they can, 
 What Honour />, on their Wild plan) 
 Is noty to take it in their Way, 
 And this we fure may dare to fay 
 Without incurring an offence. 
 Courage^ Lawy Honejly^ or Se7tfe) 
 Men, who all Spirit, Life, and Soul, 
 Neat Butchers of a Button-hole^ 
 Having more fkill, believe it true 
 That they muft have more courage too. 
 Men, who without a place or name, 
 Their Fortunes fpeechlefs as their fame. 
 Would by the Sword new Fortunes carve, 
 And rather die in fight than ftarve ? 
 
 T t 2 At
 
 524* THE GHOST. 
 
 At Coronations^ a vaft field 
 
 Which food of ev'ry kind might yield, 
 
 Of <^ood found food, at once mofl: fit 
 
 For purpofes of health and wit. 
 
 Could not ambitious Satire reft, 
 
 Content with what fhe might digeft ; 
 
 Could fhe not feaft on things of courfe, 
 
 A Champion^ or a Champion's horfe ; 
 
 A Champion's horfe — no, better fay, 
 
 Tho' better figur'd on that day — 
 
 A horfe^ which might appear to us, 
 
 Who deal in rhime, a Pegasus, 
 
 A Rider^ who, when once got on. 
 
 Might pafs for a Bellerophon, 
 
 Dropt on a fudden from the fkies. 
 
 To catch and fix our wond'ring eyes. 
 
 To witch, with wand inftead of whip, 
 
 The world with ftoble horfemanfliip, 
 
 To tvvift and twine, both Horfe and Man, 
 
 On fuch a well-concerted plan. 
 
 That, Centaur-X'^^^ when all was done. 
 
 We fcarce could think they were not one ? 
 
 Could She not to our itching ears 
 
 Bring the new names of new-corn d Peers, 
 
 Who
 
 THE GHOST. 325 
 
 Who walk'd, Nobility forgot. 
 With fhoulders fitter for a knot, 
 Than robes of Honour, for whofe fake 
 Heralds in form were forc'd to make, 
 To make, becaufe they could not find, 
 Great Predeceffors to their mind ? 
 Could She not (tho' 'tis doubtful fince 
 Whether He Plumber is, or Prince) 
 Tell of a fimple Knight's advance 
 To be a doughty Peer of Frajice^ 
 Tell how he did a Dukedom gain, 
 And Robinson was Aquitain, 
 Tell how our City-Chiefs, difgrac'd, 
 Were at an empty table plac'd, 
 A grofs neglecfl, which, whilft they live, 
 They can't forget, and won't forgive, 
 A grofs negle<5i: of all thofe rights 
 Which march with City Appetites, 
 Of all thofe Canons, which we find 
 By Gluttony^ time out of mind, 
 Eftablifli'd ^ which they ever hold, 
 Dearer than any thing but Gold? 
 
 Thanks
 
 J 
 
 26 THE GHOST. 
 
 Thanks to my Stars — I now fee fliore — 
 Of Courtiers, and of Courts no more — 
 Thus ftumbling on my City Friends, 
 BHnd Chance my guide,, my purpofe bends 
 In line direct, and fhall purfue 
 The point which I had firft in view,. 
 Nor more fhall with the Reader fport 
 Till I have feen him fafe in port. 
 Hufh'd be each fear — no more I bear 
 Thro' the wide regions of the air 
 The Reader terrified, no more 
 Wild Ocean's horrid paths explore. 
 Be the plain track from henceforth mine — 
 Crofs-roads to Allen I refignj 
 Allen, the honour of this nation, 
 Allen, himfelf a Corporation^. 
 Allen, of late notorious grown. 
 For writings none, or all his own, 
 Allen, the firft of letter d men,. 
 Since the good Bifhop holds his pen,. 
 And at his elbow takes his (land 
 To mend his head, and guide his hand. 
 But hold — once more DigreJJtoii hence — » 
 Let u$ return to Conimon-Senfe^ 
 
 The
 
 THE GHOST. 3?; 
 
 The Car of Phoebus I difchargc ; 
 
 My Carriage now a Lord -Mayor's Barge» 
 
 Suppofe we now — we may fuppofe 
 In Verfe, what would be Sin in Profe — 
 The Sky with darknefs overfpread, 
 And ev'ry Star retired to bed, 
 The gew-gaw robes of Pomp and Pride 
 In fome dark corner thrown afide, 
 Great Lords and Ladies giving way 
 To what they feem to fcorn by day, 
 The real feelings of the heart, 
 And Nature taking place of Art, 
 Dejire triumphant thro' the Night, 
 And Beauty panting with delight, 
 Chajiitj/y Woman's faireft crown. 
 Till the return of Morn laid down, 
 Then to be worn again as bright 
 As if not fullied in the Night, 
 Dull Ceremo72y^ bufinefs o'er, 
 Dreaming in form at Cot tr ell's door, 
 Precaution trudging all about 
 To fee the Candles fafely out, 
 
 Bearing
 
 J28 THE G H O S T, 
 
 Bearing a mighty Mufter-Key^ 
 Habited like Oecono?nyy 
 Stamping each lock with triple feals, 
 Mean Av'rice creeping at her heels. 
 
 Suppofe we too, like flieep in Pen, 
 The Mayor and Court of Aldermen 
 Within their barge, which, thro' the deep^. 
 The Rowers more than half afleep, 
 Mov'd flow, as over-charg'd with State; 
 Thames groan'd beneath the mighty weight^., 
 And felt that bawble heavier far 
 Than a whole fleet of men of war. 
 Sleep o'er each well-known faithful head,. 
 With lib'ral hand his Poppies fhed. 
 Each head, by Dullness rend'red fit 
 Sleep and his Empire to admit. 
 Thro' the whole paflage not a word, 
 Not one faint, weak, half found was heard ;, 
 Sleep had prevailed to overwhelm 
 The Steerfman nodding o'er the helm; 
 The Rower, without force or flcill, 
 Left the dull Barge to drive at will ;,
 
 THE GHOST. 329 
 
 The fluggifli Oars fufpended hung, 
 And even Beard more held his tongue. 
 Commerce, regardful of a freight, 
 On which depended half her State^ 
 Stepp'd to the helm, with ready hand 
 She fafely clear'd that bank of Sand, 
 Where, ftranded, our Weft-Country Fleet 
 Delay and Danger often meet ; 
 Till Neptune, anxious for the trade. 
 Comes in full tides, and brings them aid ; 
 Next (for the Mufes can furvey 
 Objed:s by Night as well as day, 
 Nothing prevents their taking aim, 
 Darknefs and Light to them the fame) 
 They paft that building, which of old 
 ^ueen-Mothers was defign'd to hold, 
 At prefent a mere lodging-pen y 
 A Palace turn'd into a den. 
 To Barracks turn'd, and Soldiers tread 
 Where Dowagers have laid their head ; 
 Why fhould we mention Surrey-Street y 
 Where evVy week grave Judges meet. 
 All fitted out with hum and ha^ 
 In proper form to drawl out Law, 
 
 Uu To
 
 330 THE GHOST. 
 
 To fee all caufcs duly tried 
 
 'Tvvixt Knaves who drive, and Fools who ride? 
 
 Why at the Temple fliould we ftay ? 
 
 What of the Temple dare we fay ? 
 
 A dane'rous ground we tread on there, 
 
 And words perhaps may adlions bear, 
 
 Where, as the Breth'ren of the feas 
 
 For fares^ the Lawyers ply for fees. 
 
 What of that Bridge^ moft wifely made 
 
 To ferve the purpofes of trade, 
 
 In the great Mart of all this Nation, 
 
 By flopping up the Navigation, 
 
 And to that Sand-bank adding weight. 
 
 Which is already much too great ? — 
 
 What of that Bridge^ which, void of Senfe, 
 
 But well fupplied with impudence, 
 
 Englip7?ien^ knowing not the Guilds 
 
 Thought they might have a claim to build, 
 
 Till Paterson, as white as milk, 
 
 As fmooth as oil, as foft as {ilk. 
 
 In folemn manner had decreed. 
 
 That, on the other fide the Tweed, 
 
 Art, born and bred, and fully grown. 
 
 Was with one Mylne, a man unknown, 
 
 But
 
 THE GHOST. 331 
 
 But grace, preferment, and renown 
 Deferving, juft arriv'd in town ; 
 One Mylne, an Artift perfedb quite, 
 Both in his own, and country's right, 
 As fit to make a bridge, as He, 
 With glorious Patavinity^ 
 To build infcriptions, worthy found 
 To lie for ever under ground. 
 
 Much more, worth obfervation too, 
 Was this a feafon to purfue 
 The theme, Our Mufe might tell in rhime ; 
 The Will She hath, but not the time ; 
 For, fwift as fhaft from Indian bow, 
 (And when a Goddefs comes, we know, 
 Surpaffing Nature adls prevail. 
 And boats want neither oar, nor fail) 
 The Veflel part, and reached the fhore 
 So quick, that Thought was fcarce before. 
 
 Suppofe we now our City-Court 
 Safely delivered at the port. 
 And, of their State regardlefs quite, 
 Landed, like fmuggled goods, by night j 
 
 U u 2 The
 
 332 THE GHOST. 
 
 The folemn Magiftrate laid down, 
 The dignity of robe and gown 
 With ev'ry other enfign gone ; 
 Suppofe the woollen Night-Cap on ; 
 The Flep-hrup us'd with decent ftate 
 To make the Spirits circulate, 
 (A form, which to the Senfes true. 
 The liq'rilh Chaplain ufes too, 
 Tho', fomething to improve the plan, 
 He takes the Maid inftead of Man) 
 Swath'dj and with flannel cover'd o'er 
 To fliew the vigour of threcfcore, 
 The vigour of threefcore and ten 
 Above the proof of younger men, 
 Suppofe the mighty Dullman led 
 Betwixt two flaves, and put to bed ; 
 Suppofe, the moment he lies down. 
 No miracle in this great town, 
 The Drone as faft afleep, as He 
 Muft in the courfe of Nature be. 
 Who, truth for our foundation take. 
 When up, is pcver half awake. 
 
 There
 
 THE GHOST. 333 
 
 There let him fleep, whilft we furvey 
 The preparations for the day, 
 That day, on which was to be fhewn 
 Court-Pride by City-Pride outdone. 
 
 The jealous Mother fends away, 
 As only fit for childirti play. 
 That Daughter, who, to gall her pride. 
 Shoots up too forward by her fide. 
 
 The Wretch^ of God and man accurs'd. 
 Of all HelFs inftruments the worft. 
 Draws forth his pansons^ and for the day 
 Struts in fome Spendthrift's vain array ; 
 Around his aukward doxy fhine 
 The treafures of Go l con da's mine. 
 Each Neighbour, with a jealous glare, 
 Beholds her folly publifh'd there. 
 
 Garments^ well-fav'd (an anecdote 
 Which we can prove, or would not quote) 
 Garments well-fav'd, which firft were made, 
 When Taylors, to promote their trade, 
 
 Againft
 
 334 THE GHOST. 
 
 Againft the PiBs in arms arofe, 
 
 And drove them out, or made them cloaths; 
 
 Garments^ immortal, without end. 
 
 Like Names, and Titles, which defcend 
 
 Succeffively from Sire to Son ; 
 
 GarfnentSy unlefs fome work is done 
 
 Of Note, not fuffer'd to appear 
 
 'Bove once at moft in ev'ry year, 
 
 Were now, in folemn form, laid bare 
 
 To take the benefit of air, 
 
 And, ere they came to be employed 
 
 On this Solemnity, to void 
 
 That fcent, which Russia's leather gave. 
 
 From vile and impious Moth to fave. 
 
 Each head was bufy, and each heart 
 In preparation bore a part. 
 Runninor too-ether all about 
 The Servants put each other out, 
 Till the grave Mafter had decreed, 
 The more hajley ever the worjl fpeedy 
 Mifs^ with her little eyes half-clos'd, 
 Over a fmuggled toilet dos'd, 
 
 The
 
 THE GHOST. 335 
 
 The Waitmg-Maid^ whom Story notes 
 A V try Scrub in petticoats, 
 Hir'd for one Wui k, but doing all, 
 In flumbers lean'd againft the wall^ 
 Milliners^ fummon'd from afar, 
 Arriv'd in fhoals at Temple-bary 
 Stridly commanded to import 
 Cart-loads of foppery from Court ; 
 With laboured viable defign 
 Art ftrove to be fuperbly fine, 
 Nature, more pleafing, tho' more wild, 
 Taught otherwife her darling child, 
 And cried, with fpirited difdain. 
 Be H elegant and plain. 
 
 Lo ! from the chambers of the Eaft, 
 A welcome prelude to the feaft. 
 In faffr on- colour d robe array'd. 
 High in a Car by Vulcan made. 
 Who work'd for Jove himfelf, each Steed 
 High-mettled, of celeftial breed. 
 Pawing and Pacing all the way, 
 Aurora brought the wifh'd-for day. 
 
 And
 
 336 THE GHOST. 
 
 And held her empire, till outrun 
 By that brave jolly groom the Sun. 
 
 The Trumpet — hark! it fpeaks — It fwells 
 The loud full harmony, It tells 
 The time at hand, when Dullman, led 
 By form, his Citizens muft head, 
 And march thofe troops, which at his call 
 Were now aflembled, to Guild-Hall^ 
 On matters of importance great 
 To Court and City^ Church and State, 
 
 From end to end the found makes way. 
 All hear the Signal and obey, 
 But Dullman, who, his charge forgot, 
 By Morpheus fetter'd, heard it not; 
 Nor could, fo found he flept and faft, 
 Hear any Trumpet, but the laft. 
 
 Crape, ever true and trufty known. 
 Stole from the Maid's bed to his own, 
 Then, in the Spirituals of pride, 
 planted himfelf at Dullman's lide. 
 
 Thru 
 
 once
 
 THE GHOST. ZZ7 
 
 T'hrice did the ever- faithful Slave, 
 
 With voice which might have reached the grave, 
 
 And broke death's adamantine chain, 
 
 On DuLLMAN call, but call'd in vain ; 
 
 l^hrice with an arm, which might have made 
 
 The Theban Boxer curfe his trade. 
 
 The drone he fliook, who rear'd the head, 
 
 And thrice fell backward on his bed. 
 
 What could be done ? where force hath fail'd, 
 
 Policy often hath prevail'd, 
 
 And what, an inference moft plain, 
 
 Had been. Crape thought might be again. 
 
 Under his pillow (ftill in mind 
 The Proverb kept, fajl bind^ fajl find) 
 Each blefled night the keys were laid, 
 Which Crape to draw away aflay'd. 
 What not the powV of voice or arm 
 Could do, this did, and broke the charm; 
 Quick ftarted He with ftupid ftare. 
 For all his little Soul was there. 
 
 Behold him, taken up, rubb'd down, 
 In Elbow-Chair, and Morning-Gown 3 
 
 X X Behold
 
 338 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Behold him, in his latter bloom, 
 
 Stripp'd, wafli'd, and fprinkled with perfume $ 
 
 Behold him bending with the weight 
 
 Of Robes, and trumpery of State ; 
 
 Behold him (for the Maxim's true^ 
 
 Whate'er we by another doj 
 
 We do ourfelves, and Chaplain paid^ 
 
 Like flaves, in ev'ry other trade, 
 
 Had mutter'd over God knows what. 
 
 Something which he by heart had got) 
 
 Having, as ufual, faid his pray'rs, 
 
 Go titter y totter^ to the flairs ; 
 
 Behold him for defcent prepare, 
 
 With one foot trembling in the air; 
 
 He Jlarts^ he paufes on the brink. 
 
 And, hard to credit, feems to think ; 
 
 Thro' his whole train (the Chaplain gave 
 
 The proper cue to evVy flave) 
 
 At once, as with infedion caught. 
 
 Each Jlartedy pausd^ and aim d at thought ; 
 
 He turns, and they turn; big with care, 
 
 He waddles to his Elbow-Chair, 
 
 Squats down, and, filent for a feafon, . 
 
 At laft with Craps begins to reafon^.. 
 
 But
 
 THE GHOST. 339 
 
 But firft of all he made a figu 
 
 That ev'ry foul, but the DivinCy 
 
 Should quit the room; in him, he knows, 
 
 He may all confidence repofe. 
 
 Crape — tho' I'm yet not quite awake- 
 Before this awful ftep I take, 
 On which my future all depends, 
 I ought to know my foes and friends. 
 By foes and friends, obferve me ftill, 
 I mean not thofe who well, or ill 
 Perhaps may wifli me, but thofe who 
 Have't in their pow'r to do it too. 
 Now if, attentive to the State, 
 In too much hurry to be great, 
 Or thro' much zeal, a motive. Crape, 
 Deferving praife, into a fcrape 
 I, like a Fool, am got, no doubt, 
 I, like a Wife Man, fhould get out. 
 Not that, remark without replies, 
 I fay that to get out is wife, 
 Or, by the very felf-fame rule 
 That to get in was like a Fool ; 
 
 X X 2 The
 
 340 THE GHOST. 
 
 The marrow of this argument 
 Muft wholly reft on the event. 
 And therefore, which is really hard, 
 Asainft events too I muft guard. 
 
 Should things continue as xhty J}and\, 
 And Bute prevail thro' all the land 
 Without a rival, by his aid. 
 My fortunes in a trice are made ; 
 Nay, Honours on my zeal may fmile, 
 And ftamp me Earl of fome great Ifle ^ 
 But if, a matter of much doubt, 
 The prefent Minifter goes out, 
 Fain would I know on what pretext 
 I can ftand fairly with the next ? 
 For as my aim at ev'ry hour 
 Is to be well with thofe in pow'r, 
 And my material point of view, 
 Vv'hoever's in, to be in too, 
 I fliould not, like a blockhead, chufe 
 To gain thefe fo as thofe to lofe ; 
 'Tis good in evVy cafe, You know, 
 To have two firings unto our bow. 
 
 As
 
 THE GHOST. 341 
 
 As one in wonder loft, Crape vievv'd 
 His Lord, who thus his fpeech purfued. 
 
 This, my good Crape, is my grand point. 
 And, as the times are out of joint. 
 The greater caution is requir'd 
 To bring about the point defir'd. 
 What I would wi£h to bring about 
 Cannot admit a moment's doubt. 
 The matter in difpute. You know. 
 Is what we call the qtiotnodo. 
 That be thy tafk — The Revrei^d Slave, 
 Becoming in a moment grave, 
 Fixt to the ground, and rooted ftood, 
 Juft like a man cut out of wood. 
 Such as we fee (without the leaft 
 Reflexion glancing on the Prieft) 
 One or more, planted up and down, 
 Almoft in ev'ry Church in town ; 
 He ftood fome minutes, then, like one 
 Who wifl^'d the matter might be done, 
 But could not do it, fliook his head, 
 And thus the man of Sorrow faid : 
 
 Hard
 
 -342 'T HE GHOST. 
 
 Haid is this tafk, too hard I fwear, 
 By much too hard for me to bear, 
 Beyond exprcffion hard my part, 
 Could mighty DuLLMAN fee my heart. 
 When He, alas ! makes known a will, 
 Which Crape's not able to fulfil. 
 Was ever my obedience barr'd 
 By any trifling nice regard 
 To Senfe and Honour? could I reach 
 Thy meaning without help of fpeech, 
 At the firft motion of thy eye 
 Did not thy faithful creature fly? 
 Have I not faid, not what I ought, 
 But what my earthly Mafter taught ? 
 Did I e'er weigh, thro' duty ftrong. 
 In thy great biddings, right and wrong ? 
 Did ever Int'reft, to whom Thou 
 Can'ft not with more devotion bow, 
 Warp my found faith, or will of mine 
 In contradiction run to thine ? 
 Have I not, at thy table plac'd, 
 When bufinefs call'd aloud for hafte, 
 Torn myfelf thence, yet never heard 
 To utter one complaining word. 
 
 And
 
 THE GHOST. 343 
 
 And had, till thy great work was done, 
 All appetites, as having none ? 
 Hard is it, this great plan purfu'd 
 Of Voluntary fervitude, 
 Purfued, without or fliame or fear, 
 Thro' the great circle of the Year, 
 Now to receive, in this grand hour, 
 Gommands which lie beyond my pow'r^ 
 Commands which baffle all my fkill. 
 And leave me nothing but my will : 
 Be that accepted; let my Lord 
 Indulgence to his flave afford ; 
 This Tafk, for my poor ftrength unfit, . 
 Will yield to none but Dullman's wit. 
 
 With fuch grofs incenfe gratified, 
 And turning up the lip of pride. 
 Poor Crape — and fhook his empty head — ' 
 Poor puzzled Q?.Avz^ wife Dull man faid, 
 Of judgment weak, of fenfe confin'd, 
 For things of lower note defign'd, 
 For things within the vulgar reach ^ 
 To run of errands, and to preach, 
 
 Well^
 
 344 THE GHOST. 
 
 Well haft Thou judged, that heads like mine 
 Cannot want help from heads like thniej 
 Well haflThou judgd thyfelf unmeet 
 Of fuch hi2:h argument to treat: 
 'Twas but to try thee that I fpoke, 
 And all 1 faid was but a joke. 
 
 Nor think a joke, Crape, a difgrace 
 Or to my Perfon, or my place ; 
 The wifcft of the Sons of Men 
 Have deign'd to ufe them now and then. 
 The only caution, do You fee, 
 Demanded by our dignity, 
 From common ufe and men exempt, 
 Is that they may not breed contempt. 
 Great Ufe they have, when in the hands 
 Of One, like me, who underftands, 
 Who underftands the time, and place, 
 The perfons, manner, and the grace, 
 Which Fools negled ; fo that we find, 
 If all the requifites are join'd 
 From whence a perfe6t joke muft fpring, 
 A joke's a very ferious thing. 
 
 But
 
 THE GHOST. 345 
 
 But to our bulinefs — my defipri, 
 Which gave fo rough a fliock to thine. 
 To my Capacity is made 
 As ready as a fraud in trade, 
 Which, hke Broad-Cloth, I can, with eafe. 
 Cut out in any fhape I pleafe. 
 
 Some^ in my circumftancc, fome few, 
 Ay, and thofe men of Genius too, 
 Good Men, who, without Love or Hate, 
 Whether they early rife or late. 
 With names uncrack'd, and credit found. 
 Rife worth a hundred thoufand pound. 
 By threadbare ways and means would try 
 To bear their point — fo will not I. 
 New methods fhall my wifdom find 
 To fuit thefe matters to my mind, 
 So that the Infidels at Court, 
 Who make our City Wits their fport, 
 Shall hail the honours of my reign, 
 And own that Dullman bears a brain. 
 
 So7ney in my place, to gain their ends, 
 Would give relations up, and friends ) 
 
 Y y Would
 
 346 T tl E GHOST. 
 
 Would lend a wife, who, they might fwear 
 Safely, wis none the worfe for wear ; 
 Would fee a Daughter, yet a maid, 
 Into a Statefman's arms betray'd. 
 Nay, fhould the Giil prove coy, nor know 
 What Daughters to a Father owe. 
 Sooner than fchemes fo nobly plann'd 
 Should fail, themfelves would lend a hand ; 
 Would vote on one fide, whilft a brother, 
 Properly taught, would vote on t'other j 
 Would ev'ry petty band forget ; 
 To public eye be with 077e fet, 
 In private with a fecQ7id herd. 
 And be by Proxy with a third 'j 
 Would (like a ,%^<?;?, of whom I read 
 The other day — her name is fled — 
 
 In a book (where, together bound, 
 
 Whttington and his Cat I found, 
 
 A tale moft true, and free from art, 
 
 V/hich all Lord-Mayors fliould have by heart) 
 
 A ^een (O might thofe days begin 
 
 Afrefh when Queens would learn to fpin) 
 
 Who wrought, and wrought, but, for fome plot. 
 
 The caufc of which I've now forgot, 
 
 During
 
 THE GHOST. 347 
 
 During the abfence of the Sun 
 Undid, what She by day had done) 
 Whilft they a double vifage wear, 
 What*s fvvorn by Day, by Night unfvvear. 
 
 Such be their Arts, and fuch perchance 
 May happily their ends advance : 
 From a new fyftem mine fhall fpring, 
 A Locum-Tenens is the thing. 
 That's your true Plan — to obligate 
 The prefent Minifters of State, 
 M.y Shadow fhall our Court approach. 
 And bear my pow'r, and have my coachy 
 yiy jine State-Coach y fuperb to view, 
 A fine State-Coachy and paid for too ; 
 To curry favour, and the grace 
 Obtain, of thofe whoVe out of place, 
 In the mean time / — that's to fay — 
 / proper, / myfelf — here flay. 
 
 But hold — perhaps unto the Nation, 
 Who hate the Scot's adminiftratlon, 
 To lend my Coach may fcem to be 
 Declaring for the Miniflry, 
 
 y y 2 For
 
 348 THE GHOST. 
 
 For where the City-Coach is, there 
 Is the true effence of the Mayor. 
 Therefore (for wife men are intent 
 Evils at diftance to prevent, 
 Whilft Fools the evils firft endure, 
 And then are plagu'd to feek a cure) 
 No Coach — a Horfe — and free from fear 
 To make our Deputy appear, 
 Faft on his back (hall he be tied, 
 With two grooms marching by his fide, 
 Then for a Horfe — thro' all the land, 
 To head our folemn City-band, 
 Can any one fo fit be found, 
 As He, who in ArtiWry-groundy 
 Without a Rider, noble Sigrht, 
 Led on our braveft troops to fight. 
 
 But firft, Crape, for my Honour's fake, 
 A tender point, enquiry make 
 About that Horfe^ if the difpute 
 Is ended, or is ftill in fuit. 
 For whilft a caufe (obferve this plan 
 Of Juftice) whether Horfe or Ma/i 
 
 The
 
 THE GHOST. 34.9 
 
 The parties be, remains in doubt. 
 Till 'tis determin'd out and out, 
 That PowV muft tyranny appear, 
 Which fhould, Pre-judging^ interfere, 
 And weak faint Judges over-awe 
 To biafs the free courfe of Law. 
 
 You have my will — now quickly run. 
 And take care that my will be done. 
 In public, Crape, You muft appear, 
 Whilft I in privacy fit here ; 
 Here fhall great Dull man fit alone, 
 Making this Elbow-Chair my throne. 
 And, You performing what I bid. 
 Do all, as if I nothing did. 
 
 Crape heard, and fpeeded on his way; 
 With him to hear was to obey; 
 Not without trouble be afliir'd, 
 A proper Proxy was procured 
 To ferve fuch infamous intent, 
 And fuch a Lord to rcprcfcnt, 
 Nor could one have been found at all 
 Dn t'other fide of Ljonckn-walL 
 
 The
 
 350 THE GHOST. 
 
 The trumpet founds — folemn and flow 
 Behold the grand Proceflion go, 
 All moving on, Cat after kind, 
 As if for motion ne'er defign'd. 
 
 Co?2frables^ whom the Laws admit 
 To keep the Peace by breaking it ; 
 Beadles^ who hold the fecond place 
 By virtue of a filver mace, 
 Which evVy Saturday is drawn, 
 For ufe of Simday^ out of pawn ; 
 Treafurers^ who with empty key 
 Secure an empty Treafury; 
 Churchvoardens^ who their courfe purfue 
 
 In the fame ftate, as to their pew 
 
 Churchwardens of Saint Margret go. 
 
 Since Peirson taught them pride and Tnow, 
 
 Who in iliort tranfient pomp appear. 
 
 Like Almanacks chang'd ev'ry year. 
 
 Behind whom, with unbroken locks, 
 
 Charity carries "ih.^ Poor s Box ^ 
 
 Not knowing that with private keys 
 
 They ope and fhut it when they pleafe, 
 
 Overfeers^
 
 THE GHOST. 351 
 
 Overfeers^ who by frauds enfure 
 The heavy curfes of the poor ; 
 Unckun came flocking, Bulls and Bears^ 
 Like Beafts into the ark, by pairs. 
 
 Portentous flaming in the van 
 Stalk'd the Profejfor Sheridan ; 
 A Man of wirCy a mere Panti?ie^ 
 A downright anbnal Machine. 
 He knows alone in proper mode 
 How to take vengeance on an Ode^ 
 And how to butcher Ammon's Son, 
 And poor yack Dryden both in one. 
 On all occafions next the Chair 
 He ftands for fervice of the Mayor, 
 And to inftrudl him how to ufe 
 His ^'s, and 5's, and P's, and ^'s. 
 O'er Letters^ into tatters worn, 
 O'er Syllables^ defac'd and torn, 
 O'er Words disjointed, and o'er Soifa 
 Left deflitute of all defence. 
 He ftrides, and all the way he goes, 
 Wades, deep in blood, o'er Crifs-Crofs-Roui'S, 
 
 Before
 
 352 THE GHOST. 
 
 Before him ev'ry Cojifonajit 
 In agonies is feen to pant ; 
 Behind, in forms not to be known, 
 The Ghofts of tortur'd Vowels groan. 
 
 Next Hart and Duke, well worthy grace 
 And City favour, came in place. 
 No Children can their toils engage, 
 Their toils are turn'd to Rev'rend Age. 
 When a Court-Dame^ to grace his brows 
 Refolv'd, is wed to City Spoufe, 
 Their aid with Madams aid muft join 
 The aukward Dotard to refine, 
 And teach, whence truefl glory flows. 
 Grave Sixty to turn out his toes. 
 Each bore in hand a Kit, and each 
 To fhew how fit he was to teach 
 A City an Alder inan^ a Mayor^ 
 Led in a firing a danci?7g Bear. 
 
 Since the revival o^ Fingal\ 
 Cuftom, and Cuflom's all in all, 
 Commands that wx fliould have regard, 
 On all high feafons, to the Bard, 
 
 Great
 
 THE GHOST. 353 
 
 Great ads like thefe, by vulgar tongue 
 Profan'd, fliould not be faid, but fung. 
 This place to fill, renown'd in fame, 
 The high and mighty Lock man came, 
 And, ne'er forgot in Dullman's reign. 
 With proper order to maintain 
 The Uniforfnity of Pride, 
 Brought Brother Whitehead by his fide. 
 
 OnHorfe, who proudly paw'd the ground, 
 And caft his fiery eyeballs round. 
 Snorting, and champing the rude bit, 
 As if, for warlike purpofe fit. 
 His high and gen'rous blood difdain'd 
 To be for fports and paftimes rein'd. 
 Great Dymock, in his glorious ftation. 
 Paraded at the Coronation. 
 Not fo our City Dymock came, 
 Heavy, difpiritcd, and tame. 
 No mark of fenfe, his eyes half-clos'd, 
 He on a mighty Dray-harfe doz'd. 
 Fate never could a horfe provide 
 So fit for fuch a man to ride, 
 
 Z z Nor
 
 354 THE GHOST. 
 
 Nor find a Man, with ftrideft care, 
 So fit for fiich a horfc to bear. 
 Hung round with inftruments of death. 
 The ficrht of him would flop the breath 
 Of bravTcrart Cowardice, and make 
 The very Court-Dra'^canfir quake. 
 With Durh, which, in the hands of Spite, 
 Do their damn'd bufmefs in the Night, 
 From Scotland fent, but here difplay'd 
 Only to fill up the Parade; 
 Vv^ith Si^ords, unfiefii'd, of maiden hue, 
 Which Rage or Valour never drew; 
 With Bhmderhuffcs, taught to ride. 
 Like Focht-Pijloh, by his fide, 
 In girdle ftuck, he feem'd to be 
 A little moving -^r;^<5ry. 
 ' One thing much wanting to complete 
 The fight, and make a perfed treat, 
 Was that the Horfe (a Courtefy 
 In Horfcs found of high degree) 
 Inftead of going forv:ard on, 
 All the way backward fiiould have gone. 
 Horfes, unlefs they breeding lack, 
 Some Scruple make to turn their back. 
 
 Tho'
 
 THE GHOST. 355 
 
 Tho' Riders, which plain Truth declares, 
 No fcruple make of Turning theirs. 
 
 Far, far apart from all the reft, 
 Fit only for a ftanding jeft, 
 The independent (can you get 
 A better fuited Epithet) 
 The indepe?tde?2t Am van d came, 
 All burning with the facred flame 
 Of Liberty, which well he knows 
 On the great ftock of flav'ry grows. - 
 Like Sparrow, who, depriv'd of Mate 
 Snatch'd by the cruel hand of Fate, 
 From fpray to fpray no more will hop, 
 But fits alone on the Houfe-top, 
 Or like Himfelf, when all alone 
 At Croydon^ he was heard to groan, 
 Lifting both hands in the defence 
 Of Intereft, and Common-Senfe; 
 Both hands, for as no other man 
 Adopted and purfu'd his plan, 
 The ZL^/-hand had been lonefome quite, 
 If He had not held up the r/g-y^/, 
 
 Z z 2 Apart
 
 356 THE G H O S T. 
 
 Apart He came, and jfix'd liis eyes 
 
 With rapture on a diftant prize, 
 
 On which in Letters worthy note, 
 
 There, Twenty Thousand Pounds, was wrote, 
 
 Falfe trap, for Credit fapp'd is founjd 
 
 By getting twenty thoufand pound ; 
 
 Nay, look not thus on Me, and ftare, 
 
 Doubting the Certainty — to fvvear 
 
 In fuch a cafe I fhould be loth — 
 
 But Perry CusT may take his oath. 
 
 In plain and decent garb array'd. 
 With the prim Quaker, Fraud, came Trade; 
 Connivance, to improve the plan, 
 Habited like a yury-many 
 Judging as Intereft prevails. 
 Came next with meafures, weights, and fcales; 
 Extortion next, of hellifli race, 
 A Cub moft damn'd, to fhew his face 
 Forbid by fear, but not by fhame, 
 
 Turn'd to a Jew^ like came y 
 
 Corruption, MiDAs-like, behold 
 Turning whate'er She touch'd to gold, 
 
 Impotence
 
 T 1 1 E G H O S T 
 
 Impotence led by Lust, and Pride 
 
 Strutting with PontoiN by her fide^ 
 
 Hypocrisy, demure and fiid, 
 
 In garments of the Priefthood ckd, 
 
 So well difguis'd, that You might fwear, 
 
 Deceiv'd, a very Priefl: was there ; 
 
 Bankruptcy, full of eafe and health, ^ 
 
 And wallowing in well-favd wealth. 
 
 Came fneering thro' a ruin'd band. 
 
 And bringing, B in her hand ; 
 
 Victory, hanging down her head, 
 Was by a highland Stallion led ; 
 Peace, cloath'd in fables, with a face 
 Which witnefs'd fenfe of huge difgrace, 
 Which fpake a deep and rooted fliame 
 Both of Herfelf and of her Name, 
 Mourning creeps on, and blufhing feels 
 War, grim War treading on her heels ; 
 Pale Credit, fhaken by the arts 
 Of men with bad heads and worfe hearts. 
 Taking no notice of a band 
 Which near her were ordain'd to fland, 
 Well nigh deftroy'd by fickly fit, 
 Look'd wiftful all around for Pitt. 
 
 357 
 
 Freedom
 
 ^^S THE GHOST. 
 
 Freedom — at that moft hallow'd name 
 
 My Spirits mount into a flame, 
 
 Each pulfe beats high, and each nerve ftrains 
 
 E'en to the cracking; thro' my veins 
 
 The tides of Hfe more rapid run, 
 
 And tell me I am Freedom's Son — 
 
 Freedom came next, but fcarce was feen, 
 
 When the fky, which appear'd ferene 
 
 And gay before, was overcafl: ; 
 
 Horror beftrode a foreign blafi:. 
 
 And from the. pri/on of the Norths 
 
 To Freedom deadly, Storms burft forth. 
 
 A Car like thofc, in which, we're told, 
 Our wild Forefathers warr'd of old. 
 Loaded with Death, £x Florfcs bear 
 Thro' the blank region of the air. 
 Too fierce for time or art to tame, 
 They pour'd forth mingled fmoke and flame 
 From their wide Noftrils ; ev'ry Steed 
 Was of that ancient favage breed 
 Which fell Geryon nurs'd ; their food 
 The flcfli of Man, their drink his blood. 
 
 On
 
 THE GHOST. 359 
 
 On the iirft Horfcs, ill-match'd pair, 
 ZZvV fat and ileek, That lean and bare, 
 Came ill-match'd Riders fide by fide, 
 And Poverty was yoak'd with Pride : 
 Union moft ftrange it muft appear, 
 Till'Other Unions make it clear. 
 
 Next, in the gall of bitternefs, 
 With rage, which words can ill exprefs, 
 With unforgiving rage, which fprings 
 From a falfe zeal for holy things, 
 Wearing fuch robes as Prophets wear, 
 Falfe Prophets plac'd in Peter's chair. 
 On which, in Characters of fire, 
 Shapes Antic, horrible and dire, 
 Inwoven flam'd, where, to the view, 
 In groups appeared a rabble crew 
 Of Sainted Devils, v/here all round 
 Vile Reliques of vile men were found, 
 Who, worfe than Devils, from the birth 
 Performed the work of Flell on earth. 
 Jugglers^ Inquifuors^ and Popesy 
 Pointing at axes^ wheels^ and ropes^ 
 
 And
 
 360 1 H B GHOST. 
 
 And Engines^ fram'd on horrid plan. 
 
 Which none but the deftroyer, Man, 
 
 Could, to promote his felfilli views. 
 
 Have heads to make, or hearts to ufe. 
 
 Bearing, to confecrate her tricks, 
 
 In her left-hand a Crucifix^ 
 
 Remembrance of Our dying Lord, 
 
 And in her right a two-edg d fword \ 
 
 Having her brows, in impious fport, 
 
 Adorn'd with words of high import, 
 
 0;/ earth Peace, among ft me72^ Good Will, 
 
 Love beari?2gy 2i\\i forbearing flill. 
 
 All wrote in the hearts-blood of thofe 
 
 Who rather Death than Falfliood chofe ; 
 
 On her breaft (where, in days of Yore, 
 
 When God lov'd Jews^ the High-Priest wore 
 
 Thofe Oracles, which were decreed 
 
 T'inftrucl and guide the chofen feed) 
 
 Having, with glory clad and flrength. 
 
 The Virgin pidur'd ^\. full lengthy 
 
 Whilft at her feet, infmall pourtray'd, 
 
 As fcarcc worth notice, Christ was laid, 
 
 Came Superstition, fierce and fell, 
 
 Au Imp detefted, e'en in hell ; 
 
 Her
 
 THE GHOST. 361 
 
 Her Eye inflam'd, her face all o'er 
 Foully befmear'd with human gore, 
 O'er heaps of mangled Saints She rode ; 
 Faft at her heels Death proudly ftrode, 
 And grimly fmil'd, well-pleas'd to fee 
 Such havock of mortality. 
 Clofe by her fide, on mifchief bent, 
 And urging on each bad intent 
 To its full bearing, Savage, Wild, 
 The Mother fit of fuch a child, 
 Striving the empire to advance 
 Of Sin and Death, came Ignorance. 
 
 With looks, where dread command was plac'd, 
 And Sov'reign Pow'r by Pride difgrac'd, 
 Where, loudly witnefiing a mind 
 Of favage more than human kind. 
 Not chufing to be lov'd, but fear'd, 
 Mocking at right, Misrule appeared, 
 With Eyeballs glaring fiery red 
 Enough to ftrike beholders dead, 
 Gnafliing his teeth, and in a flood 
 Pouring corruption forth and blood 
 
 A a a From
 
 36> THE GHOST. 
 
 From his chaf 'd jaws ; without remorfe 
 Whipping, and fpurring on his horfe, 
 Whofe fides, in their own blood embay'd, 
 E'en to the bone were open laid, 
 Came Tyranny; difdalning awe, 
 And trampling owtv Senfe and Law. 
 One thing and only one He knew, 
 One objedl only would purfue, 
 Tho' Lefs (fo low doth Paffion bring) 
 Than man, he would be more than King. 
 
 With ev'ry argument and art, 
 Which might corrupt the head and heart. 
 Soothing the frenzy of his mind, 
 Companion meet, was Flatt'ry join'd. 
 Winning his carriage, ev'ry look 
 Employ'd, whilft it conceal'd a hook ; 
 When fimple moft, moft to be fear'd ; 
 Moft crafty, when no craft appeared ; 
 His tales, no man like him could tell ; 
 His words, which melted as they fell. 
 Might e'en a Hypocrite deceive, 
 And make an infidel believe, 
 
 Wantonly
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 Wantonly cheating o*er and o'er 
 Thofe who had cheated been before : 
 Such Flatt'ry came in evdl hour, 
 Pois'ning the royal ear of pow'r, 
 And, grown by Proftitution great, 
 Would be firft Minifter of State. 
 
 Within the Chariot, all alone, 
 High feated on a kind of throne, 
 With pebbles grac'd, a Figure came, 
 Whom Juflice would, but dare not, name. 
 Hard times when Juftice, without fear. 
 Dare not bring forth to public ear 
 The names of thofe, who dare offend 
 'Gainft Juftice, and pervert her end ; 
 But, if the- Mufe afford me grace, 
 pefcription fhall fupply the place. 
 
 163 
 
 \x\ foreign garments he was clad, 
 Sage Ermine o'er the gloffy Plaid 
 Caft rev'rend honour, on his heart, 
 Wrought by the curious hand of Art, 
 In filver wrought, and brighter far 
 Than heav'nly or than earthly Star, 
 
 A a a 2 
 
 Shone
 
 364 THE GHOST. 
 
 Shone a White Rofcy the Emblem dear 
 
 Of him He ever mufl: revere, 
 
 Of that dread Lord, w^ho, with his hoft 
 
 Of faithful native rebels loft, 
 
 Like thofe black Spirits doom'd to hell, 
 
 At once from povv'r and virtue fell; 
 
 Around his clouded brows was plac'd 
 
 A Bo72nety moft fuperbly grac'd 
 
 With mighty Thijllesy nor forgot 
 
 The facred motto, T^oiich me not. 
 
 In the right-hand a fvvord He bore 
 Harder than Adamant, and more 
 Fatal than winds, which from the mouth 
 Of the rough North invade the South ; 
 The reeking blade to view prefents 
 The blood of helplefs Innocents, 
 And on the hiJt, as meek become 
 As Lambs before the Shearers dumb. 
 With downcaft eye, and folemn £l:iow 
 Of deep unutterable w^oe, 
 Mourning the time when Freedom reign'd, 
 Faft to a rock was Juftice chain'd. 
 
 In
 
 THE GHOST. 365 
 
 In his left-hand, in wax impreft, 
 With bells and gewgaws idly dreft, 
 An Image^ caft in baby mould. 
 He held, and feem'd o'erjoy'd to hold. 
 On this he fix'd his eyes, to this 
 Bowing he gave the loyal kifs, 
 And, for Rebellion fully ripe, 
 Seem'd to defiire the Antitype. 
 What if to that Pretenders foes 
 His greatnefs, nay, his life he owes, 
 Shall common obligations bind, 
 And fhake his conftancy of mind ? 
 Scorning fuch weak and petty chains, s 
 Faithful to James he ftill remains, 
 Tho' he the friend of George appear : 
 Dijftmulation s Virtue here. 
 
 Jealous and Mean, he with a frown 
 Would awe, and keep all merit down. 
 Nor would to Truth and Juftice bend, 
 Unlefs out-bullied by his friend \ 
 Brave witl;i the Coward, with the brave 
 He is himfclf a Coward flave \ 
 
 Aw'd
 
 366 THE GHOST. 
 
 Aw'd by his fears, he has no heart 
 
 To take a great and open part ; 
 
 Mines in a fubtle train he fprings, 
 
 And, fecret, faps the ears of Kings ; 
 
 But not e'en there continues firm 
 
 'Gainft the refiftance of a vvorm ; 
 
 Born in a Country, where the will 
 
 Of One is Law to all^ he ftill 
 
 Retain d th' infedion, with full aim 
 
 To fpread it vvherefoe'er he came ; 
 
 Freedom he hated. Law defied, 
 The Proftitute of Pow'r and Pride ; 
 Law he with eafe explains away. 
 And leads bewildered Senfe aftray ; 
 Much to the credit of his brain 
 Puzzles the caufe he can't maintain, 
 Proceeds on moft familiar grounds. 
 And, where he can't convince, confounds; 
 Talents of rareft ftamp and fize, 
 To Nature falfe, he mifapplies. 
 And turns to poifon what was fent 
 For purpofes of nourifhment. 
 
 Palenefsy
 
 THE GHOST. 367 
 
 Palenefs^ not fuch as on his wings 
 The Meffcnger of Sicknefs brings, 
 But fuch as takes its coward rife 
 From confcious bafenefs, confcious vice, 
 O'erfpread his cheeks ; Difdain and Pridc^ 
 To upftart Fortunes ever tied, 
 Scowl'd on his brow ; within his eye, 
 Inlidious, lurking like a fpy 
 To Caution principled by Fear, 
 Not daring open to appear, 
 Lodg'd covert Mif chief -^ Pajfton hung 
 On his lip quiv'ring; on his tongue 
 Fraud dwelt at large; within his breaft 
 All that makes Villain found a neft, 
 All that, on hell's completeft plan, 
 E're join'd to damn the heart of man. 
 
 Soon as the Car reach'd land, He rofc. 
 And with a look which might have froze 
 The heart's beft blood, which was enough 
 Had hearts been made of fterner fluff 
 In Cities than elfe where, to make 
 The very ftouteft quail, and quake, 
 
 He
 
 ^6S THE GHOST. 
 
 He caft his bakful eyes around ; 
 
 Fix'd without motion to the ground. 
 
 Fear waiting on furprize. All flood, 
 
 And Horror chilFd their curdled blood. 
 
 No more they thought of Pojnp^ no more 
 
 (For they had feen his face before) 
 
 Of Law they thought \ the caufe forgot, 
 
 Whether it was or Ghoft, or Plot, 
 
 Which drew them there, They All flood more 
 
 Like Statues than they were before. 
 
 What could be done ? Could Art, could Force, 
 iOr Both dired a proper courfe 
 To make this favage Monfter tame, 
 Or fend him back the way he came? 
 What neither Art, nor Force, nor Both 
 Could do, a horcl of foreign growth, 
 A Lord to that bafe wretch allied 
 In Country, not in Vice and Pride, 
 Effeded ; from the felf-fame land, 
 (Bad news for our blafpheming band 
 Of Scribblers, but deferving note) 
 The Poifon came, and Antidote. 
 
 Abafli'd
 
 THE GHOST. 369 
 
 Abafli'd the Monfter hung his head, 
 And, like an empty Vifiion, fled ; 
 His Train, like Virgin Snows which run, 
 Kifs'd by the burning bawdy Sun, 
 To loveflck fkreams, diflbWd in Air ; 
 Joy, who from abfence feem'd more fair. 
 Came fmiling, freed from flavifh awe ; 
 LoYALTv, Liberty, and Law, 
 Impatient of the galHng chain. 
 And Yoke of pow'r, refum'd their reign ; 
 And, burning with the glorious flame 
 Of Public Virtue, Mansfield came. 
 
 N I S. 
 
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