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Fanes, which admiring Gods with pride furvey;
Statues of Men, scarce lefs alive than they!
Some felt the filent ftroke of mouldering age,
Some hoftile fury, fome religious rage.
Barbarian blindness, Chriftian zeal confpire,
And Papal piety, and Gothic fire.

Perhaps, by its own ruins fav'd from flame,
Some bury'd marble half preserves a name;
'That Name the Learn'd with fierce difputes purfue,
And give to Titus old Vefpafian's due.

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Ambition figh'd: fhe found it vain to trust The faithlefs Column and the crumbling Bust: Huge moles, whose shadow stretch'd from shore to shore, Their ruins perifh'd, and their place no more! Convinc'd fhe now contracts her vast design, And all her Triumphs fhrink into a Coin. A narrow orb each crouded conqueft keeps, Beneath her Palm here fad Judea weeps. Now fcantier limits the proud Arch confine, And scarce are seen the proftrate Nile or Rhine; A small Euphrates through the piece is roll'd, And littles Eagles wave their wings in gold.

The Medal,, faithful to its charge of fame, Through climes and ages bears each form and name: In one short view fubjected to our eye Gods, Emperors, Heroes, Sages, Beauties, lie. With fharpen'd fight pale Antiquaries pore, Th' infcription value, but the ruft adore. This the blue varnish, that the green endears, The facred ruft of twice ten hundred years! VOL. XLVI. L

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To gain Pefcennius one employs his Schemes,
One grafps a Cecrops in extatic dreams.
Poor Vadius, long with learned fpleen devour'd,
Can tafte no pleasure fince his Shield was scour'd:
And Curio, reftlefs by the Fair-one's fide,
Sighs for an Otho, and neglects his bride.

Theirs is the Vanity, the Learning thine:
Touch'd by thy hand, again Rome's glories fhine:
Her Gods and godlike Heroes rife to view,
And all her faded garlands bloom anew.
Nor blush, these studies thy regard engage;
Thefe pleas'd the fathers of poetic rage:
The verfe and sculpture bore an equal part,
And Art reflected images to Art.

Oh, when fhall Britain, confcious of her claim,
Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame?
In living medals fee her wars enroll'd,
And vanquish'd realms fupply recording gold?
Here, rifing bold, the Patriot's honeft face;
There, Warriors frowning in historic brass:
Then future ages with delight fhall fee
How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's looks agree;
Or in fair feries laurel'd Bards be shown,
A Virgil there, and here an Addifon.

Then fhall thy Craggs (and let me call him mine)
On the caft ore, another Pollio, shine:
With afpect open fhall erect his head,
And round the orb in lafting notes be read,
"Statefman, yet friend to Truth! of foul fincere,
"In action faithful, and in honour clear;

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"Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end,
"Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend;
"Ennobled by himfelf, by all approv'd,
"And prais'd, unenvy'd, by the Mufe he lov'd."

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EPISTLE

EPISTLE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT:

BEING THE

PROLOGUE

TO THE

SAT. I RES.

ADVERTISEMENT

TO

The first publication of this Epistle.

TH

HIS paper is a fort of bill of complaint, begun, many years fince, and drawn up by fnatches, as the feveral occafions offered. I had no thoughts of publishing it, till it pleafed fome perfons of Rank and Fortune [the Authors of Verfes to the Imitator of Horace, and of an Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity from a Nobleman at Hampton-Court] to attack, in a very extraordinary manner, not only my Writings (of which, being public, the Public is judge) but my Perfon, Morals, and Family, whereof, to those who know me not, a truer information may be requifite. Being divided between the neceffity to fay fomething of myself, and my own lazinefs to undertake fo aukward a task, I thought it the shortest way to put the laft hand to this Epiftle. If it have any thing pleafing,

it will be that by which I am moft defirous to please, the Truth and the Sentiment; and if any thing offenfive, it will be only to those I am least forry to offend, the vicious or the ungenerous.

Many will know their own pictures in it, there being not a circumstance but what is true: but I have, for the most part, fpared their Names; and they may efcape being laughed at, if they please.

I would have fome of them to know, it was owing to the request of the learned and candid Friend to whom it is inscribed, that I make not as free Use of theirs as they have done of mine. However, I thall have this advantage, and honour, on my fide, that whereas, by their proceeding, any abuse may be directed at any man, no injury can poffibly be done by mine, fince a nameless Character can never be found out, but by its truth and likeness.

P.

•SH

HUT, fhut the door, good John! fatigu'd I faid, Tye up the knocker, fay I'm fick, I'm dead. The Dog-ftar rages! nay, 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnaffus, is let out:

Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
They rave, recite, and madden round the land.

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What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my Grot they glide. By land, by water, they renew the charge; They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. No place is facred, not the Church is free, Ev'n Sunday fhines no Sabbath day to me; L 3

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