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ther led him to another model. Nor was his temper lefs unlike that of Horace, than his talents. What Horace would only fmile at, Mr. Pope would treat with the grave feverity of Perfius: and what Mr. Pope would ftrike with the cauftic lightning of Juvenal, Horace would content himself in turning into ridicule.



If it be asked then, why he took any body at all to imitate, he has informed us in his Advertisement to which we may add, that this fort of Imitations, which are of the nature of Parodies, adds reflected grace and Splendor on original wit. Befides, he deemed it more modeft to give the name of Imitations to his Satires, than, like Defpreaux, to give the name of Satires to Imitations,

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P.THERE are (I fcarce can think it, but am told)
There are, to whom my Satire seems too bold ;
Scarce to wife Peter complaifant enough,

And something faid of Chartres * much too rough.
The lines are weak, another's pleas'd to fay,
Lord Fanny fpins a thousand fuch a day.
Tim'rous by nature, of the rich in awe,
I come to council learned in the law :
You'll give me, like a friend both fage and free,
Advice; and (as you use) without a fee.

F. I'd write no more.

P. Not write? but then I think,
And for my foul I cannot fleep a wink.
I nod in company, I wake at night,
Fools rush into my head, and fo I write.

F. You could not do a worfe thing for your life.
Why, if the nights feem tedious-take a wife :
Or rather truly, if your point be rest,
Lettuce and cowflip wine; probatum eft.
But talk with Celfus, Celfus will advise
Hartshorn, or something that fhall close your eyes. 20

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It has been commonly obferved of the English, that a rogue never goes to the gallows without the pity of the spectators, and their parting curses on the rigour of the laws that brought them thither: and this has been as commonly afcribed to the good nature of the p ople. But it is a mistake. The true cause is their hatred and envy of power. Their compaffion for dunces and scoundrels (when expofed by great writers to public contempt, either in juftice to the age, or in vindication of their own characters) has the fame fource. They cover their envy to a fuperior genius, in lamenting the feve. rity of his pen.


D 2

Or, if you needs muft write, write CAESAR's praife,
You'll gain at least a Knighthood, or the Bays.

P. What? like Sir Richard *, rumbling, rough, and fierce,

With ARMS and GEORGE and BRUNSWICK crowd the verfe,

Rend with tremendous found your ears afunder,
With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbufs and thunder?
Or nobly wild, with Budgel's fire and force,
Paint angels trembling round his falling horfe? †
F. Then all your Muse's fofter art display,
Let CAROLINA smooth the tuneful lay,
Lull with AMELIA's liquid name the nine,
And sweetly flow thro' all the royal line.

P. Alas! few verfes touch their nicer ear;
They scarce can bear their Laureate twice a year;
And juftly CESAR fcorns the poet's lays,
It is to Hiftory he trufts for praife.

F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it ftill,
Than ridicule all tafte, blafpheme quadrille,
Abuse the city's beft good men in metre,
And laugh at peers that put their truft in Peter.
Ev'n those you touch not, hate you.

P. What should ail them?
F. A hundred fmart in Timon and in Balaam :
The fewer ftill you name, you wound the more;
Bond is but one, but Harpax is a score.


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* Mr. Molyneux, a great mathematician and philofopher, had a high opinion of Sir Richard Blackmore's poetic vein. "All our English poets, "except Milton (fays he, in a letter to Mr. Locke) have been mere ballad"makers in comparison of him." And Mr. Locke, in answer to this obfervation, replies, "I find with pleasure, a strange harmony throughout, be"tween your thoughts and mine." just fo a Roman lawyer, and a Greek hiftorian thought of the poetry of Cicero. But thefe being judgments made by men out of their own profeffion, are little regarded. And Pope and Juvenal will make Blackmore and Tully pass for poetafters to the world's


The horfe on which his majesty charged at the battle of Oudenard ; when the Pretender, and the princes of the blood of France, fied before him. P. Each


P. Each mortal has his pleafure: none deny
Scarfdale his bottle, Darty his ham-pye;
Ridotta fips and dances, till fhe fee
The doubling luftres dance as faft as she;
F-loves the fenate, Hockleyhole his brother,
Like in all elfe, as one egg to another.

I love to pour out all myfelf, as plain

As downright SHIPPEN, or as old Montagne *:
In them, as certain to be lov'd as feen,
The foul ftood forth, nor kept a thought within;
In me what spots (for spots I have) appear,
Will prove at least the medium must be clear.
In this impartial glafs, my Mufe attends

Fair to expose myself, my foes, my friends;
Publish the present age; but where my text
Is vice too high, referve it for the next :
My foes fhall wish my life a longer date,
And ev'ry friend the lefs lament my fate.
My head and heart thus flowing thro' my quill,
Verfeman or Profeman, term me which you will,
Papift or Proteftant, or both between,
Like good Erasmus in an honeft mean,
In moderation placing all my glory,
While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet;

I only wear it in a land of hectors,
Thieves, fupercargoes, fharpers and directors.
Save but our army! and let Jove incruft
Swords, pikes, and guns, with everlasting ruft!







* They had this, indeed, in common, to use great liberties of speech, and to profefs faying what they thought. Montagne had many qualities, that had gained him the love and esteem of his readers: the other had one, which always gained him the favourable attention of his hearers. For as a celebra ted Roman orator observes, “ Maledicit INERUDITUs apertius et fæpius, cum periculo etiam fuo. Affert et ifta res OPINIONEM, quia libentiffime "homines audiunt ea quæ dicere ipfi noluiffent." †The names, at that time, usually bestowed on those whom the trading companies fent with their fhips, and entrusted with their concerns abroad.



Peace is my dear delight-not FLEURY's more:
But touch me, and no minifter fo fore.
Whoe'er offends, at fome unlucky time :
Slides into verfe, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to ridicule his whole life long,
And the fad burthen of fome merry fong.
Slander or poifon dread from Delia's rage,
Hard words or hanging, if your judge be Page.
From furious Sappho scarce a milder fate,
P-x'd by her love, or libell'd by her hate.
Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels;
Bulls aim their horns, and affes lift their heels;
'Tis a bear's talent not to kick, but hug;
And no man wonders he's not ftung by pug.
So drink with Walters, or with Chartres eat,
They'll never poifon you, they'll only cheat.

Then, learned Sir! (to cut the matter short)
'Whate'er my fate,
"or well or ill at Court,
Whether old age, faint but chearful ray,
Attends to gild the ev'ning of my day,
Or Death's black wing already be display'd,
To wrap me in the univerfal fhade;
Whether the darken'd room to muse invite,
Or whiten❜d wall provoke the skew'r to write :
In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint,
Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print.

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

P. What? arm'd for virtue when I point the pen, 195
Brand the bold front of fhameless guilty men:
Dafh the proud gamefter in his gilded car;
Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a far;
Can there be wanting, to defend her cause,
Lights of the church, or guardians of the laws?
Could penfion'd Boileau lafh in honeft ftrain
Flatt'rers and bigots ev'n in Louis' reign





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