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more than a subject? When old age comes to lie heavy (1) upon him, will his engineers relieve him of the load? (2) Can his guards and centinels, by doubling and trebling their numbers, and their watchfulness, prevent the approach of death? Nay, if jealousy, or even ill-humour, Contempt disturb his happiness, will the cringes of his fawning attendants restore his tranquillity? What comfort has he, in reflecting (if he can make the reflection) while the cholic, like Prometheus's vulture, tears his bowels, that he is under a canopy of crimson velvet fringed with gold? When the pangs of the gout or stone, extort from him screams of agony, do the titles of highness or majesty come sweetly into his ear? If he is agitated (3) with rage, does the sound of Serene, or Most Christian, prevent his staring, reddening, and gnashing with his teeth, like a madman? Would not a twinge of the tooth-ach, or an affront from an inferior, make the mighty Cesar Contempt, -forget, that he was emperor of the world? [Montaigne.]




Now had the Grecians snatch'd a short repast, Trepidation

And buckled on their shining arms in haste.

Troy rouz'd as soon; for on that dreadful day, Perplexity. The fate of fathers, wives, and infants lay.

The gates, unfolding, pour forth all their train ; Squadrons on squadrons, cloud the dusty plain; Trepidation Men, steeds, and chariots shake the trembling


The tumult thickens, and the skies resound.

(1) The word heavy, to be dragged out as expreffing distress. See Complaining, page 30.

(2) This fentence (Can his guards, &c.) to be spoken with fear, See Fear, page 21.

(3) If he is agitated,&c. to be spoken full-mouthed, as boasting, See Boafting, page 22.





(1) And now with shouts the shocking armies clos'd,
To lances, lances-shields, to shields oppos'd,
Host against host their shadowy legions drew;
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew;

Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries!
Triumphant shouts (2) and dying groans (3) arise!
With streaming blood the slipp'ry fields are dy'd,
And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide.
Long as the morning beams increasing bright,
C'er heaven's clear azure spread the sacred light,
Promiscuous death the fate of war confounds,
Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds.
But when the sun the height of heav'n ascends,
(4) The Sire of Gods his golden scales suspends
With equal hand. In these explores the fate
Of Greece and Tray, and pois'd the mighty weight.
Press'd with its load, the Grecian balance lies
Low sunk on earth; the Trojan strikes the skies.
(5) Then Jove from Ida's top his horror spreads,
The clouds burst dreadful o'er the Grecian heads;
Thick lightnings flash; the mutt'ring thunder rolls;
Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls.
Before his wrath the (6) trembling host retire,
The gods in terror, and the skies on fire.

[Pope's Hoм. IL. B, viii. v. 67.7



(Paffages taken from fundry Petitions (7) prefented to the French King by a difgraced Minifter. Pens. Ing. Anc. Mod. p. 167.)

Dejection. DEING weary of the useless life I live at preBEING sent, I take the liberty of imploring with pro

(1) To be fpoken quick and loud.

(2) To be fpoken boldly,

(3) To be fpoken faintly, and with pity. See Pitv page 20. (4) To be fpoken lowly and with veneration. See Feneration, p. 25. (5) To be fpoken hollow and full-mouthed.

(6) To be fpoken with a quivering voice.

(7) Though petitions are commonly prefented in writing, yet they may be imagined to be addreffed to the Prince viva voce, and fometimes are.



found submission, your Majesty, that I may have leave to seek an honourable death in your Majesty's service. After the disappointments, and reverses of fortune, which I have had to struggle with, my expectations of rising again to prosperity, are brought low enough. But it would be a Humble resatisfaction to me, that my real character were monstrance. known to your Majesty; which if it were, I flatter myself, I should have your Majesty's indulgence, nay your esteem. Refuse not, most gra- Beseeching. cious Sovereign, the means, for gaining this end, to a man, who is ready to shed his blood, in proof of his loyalty and affection to your Majesty. Were my own private interest alone concerned, I should be peculiarly cautious how I intruded upon your Majesty with these solicitations. But, as the only happiness I desire in this Earnest Soworld, is, to have an opportunity of serving my king and country; I humbly hope, I may be forgiven, though I urge my suit with some warmth and importunity. I do not presume, Sire, to claim a total exemption from hardship. I pretend to no right to live a life of indulgence. All I ask, Befeeching. is, to change one punishment for another. And I beseech your Majesty to have some consideration for my past services; and that a year's imprisonment, five years exile, the ruin of my fortune, the submission with which I have borne these punishments, and the zeal I still am ready to shew for your Majesty's service, may plead in my favour, and disarm your Majesty of your indignation against me. It is true, that in making Humble reyour Majesty the offer of my life, I offer what monftrance, is of little value even to myself. But it is all I have to offer. The misfortune I have lain un- Dejection, der, these six years, of your Majesty's displeasure, has rendered life so insipid to me, that besides the honor of losing it in your Majesty's service, the prospect of an end, being, by death, put to my vexations, makes the thought of my dissolution pleasing to me. If it should seem good to your


Profound Majesty to finish my distresses the other way, I mean, by your most gracious pardon, the ob- · ligation will be still greater; and to the zeal I have for your Majesty's, interest, I shall think myself obliged to add gratitude suitable to so important a favour. And with such sentiments Refolution. there is nothing I shall not be willing to enterprize

for your Majesty's service. May heaven touch Devotion. the heart of your Majesty, that you may at last forgive your sincerely penitent subject. No one knows better than your Majesty, that it is as Humble re- great to forgive as to punish. If I alone am monftrance. doomed to have no benefit from that goodness, which extends to so many, my lot must be peculiarly calamitous.






VOITURE'S whimfical Commendation of the MARQUIS De
PISANY'S Courage. (Pens. Ing. Anc. Mod. p. 152.)

I AM extremely glad to hear that you are grown so hardy, that neither labour, watching, sickness, lead, nor steel, can hurt you. I could not have thought, that a man, who lived on watergruel, should have so thick a skin; nor did I imagine you had a spell, by which you was powderproof. To account, how you come to be still alive, after the desperate hazards you have run, is than I can pretend to. But I had rather, it were by the help of the Devil himself, than that you were as poor Attichy, or Grenville; if Difapproba- you were embalmed with the richest drugs of the East. To tell you my opinion plainly, Sir, let





(1) This is to be fpoken in the fame manner as if one was finding fault in earneft; for it is the character of Humour to mean the contrary of what it feems to mean. And though the matter was originally part of a Letter, it may be imagined as spoken,

a man die for his country, or for honor, or what you please, I cannot help thinking he makes but a silly figure, (1) when he is dead. It seems to me a great pity, that some people should be so careless about their lives, as they are. For despicable as life is, a man when he has lost it, is not worth half what he was when he had it. In short, a dead king, a dead hero, or even a dead demi-god, is in my mind, but a poor character, and much good may it do him who is ambitious of it.



AH well-a-day! how long must I endure

This pining pain?(2) or who shall speed my cure?
Fond Love no cure will have; seeks no repose;
Delights in grief, nor any measure knows.




Lamenta. tion.


(3) Lo! now the moon begins in clouds to rise, Complaint. The bright'ning stars bespangle all the skies.

The winds are hush'd. The dews distil; and


Hath clos'd the eye-lids of my weary sheep.
(4) I, only, with the prowling wolf, constrain'd
(5) All night to wake. With hunger he is pain'd,
And I with love. His hunger he may tame;
But who can quench (6) O cruel love! thy flame?
Whilom did I, all as the poplar fair,
Up-rise my heedless head, devoid of care;
'Mong rustic routs the chief of wanton game;
Nor could they merry make, till Lubin came.

(1) The fpeaker will naturally utter thefe words, filly figure, with a fhrug.

(2) The words pining pain, cannot be spoken too flowly. See Complaining, page 30.

(3) Thefe four lines are to be spoken lowly; and with a torpid uniformity of tone.

(4) The fpeaker is to feem roufed here, as by a fudden pang. (5) These four words to exprefs extreme anguish.

(6) A stop before and after the words, O cruel love, which are to be expreffed with acclamations of anguish.

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