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Agnosco natos: tumidas sine pondere voces
In vulgum eructant; emuncto quisque bacillum
Applicat auratum naso, graviterque facetus
Totum se in vultum cogit medicamina pandens-
Rusticus haurit âmara, atque insanabile dormit;
Nec sensus revocare queant fomenta, nec herbæ,
Non ars, non miræ magicus sonus Abracadabræ.

Ante alios summa es, Polychasmia, cura Sophistæ:

Ille tui cæcas vires, causamque latentem Sedulus exquirit-quo scilicet impete fauces Invitæ disjungantur; quo vortice aquosæ Particulæ fluitent, comitesque, ut fulminis imbres, Cum strepitu erumpant; ut deinde vaporet Materies subtilis; ut in cusin ininuet se [obellos. Retia; tum, si forte datur contingere nervos Concordes, cunctorum ora expanduntur hiulca. Sic ubi, Phoebe pater, sumis chelyn, harmoniamque

Abstrusam in chordis simul elicis, altera, siquam Equalis tenor aptavit, tremit æmula cantûs, Memnoniamque imitata lyram sine pollicis ictu Divinum resonat proprio modulamine carmen. Me quoque, mene tuum tetigisti, ingrata, Poetam?

Hei mihi! totus hio tibi jam stupefactus; in ipso Parnasso captus longè longèque remotas Prospecto Musas, sitioque, ut Tantalus alter, Castalias situs inter aquas, inhiantis ab ore Nectarei fugiunt latices-hos Popius urnâ Excipit undanti, & fontem sibi vendicat omnem.

Hand aliter socium esuriens Sizator edacem

Dum videt, appositusque cibus frustratur hiantem,
Dentibus infrendens nequicquam lumine torvo
Sæpius exprobrat; nequicquam brachia tendit
Sedulus officiosa, dapes removere paratus. [ma
Olli nunquam exempta fames, quin frusta supre-
Devoret, & peritura immani ingurgitet ore:
Tum demum jubet auferri; nudata capaci
Ossa sonant, lugubre sonant, allisa catino.


NAY', 'tis the same with all th' affected crew
Of singing men and singing women too:
Do they not set their catcalls up of course?

Goddess! thy sons I ken-verbose and loud,
They puff their windy bubble on the crowd;
With look important, critical, and vain,
Each to his nose applies the gilded came;
And as he nods and ponders o'er the case,
Gravely collects himself into his face,
Explain his med'cines-which the rustic buys,
Drinks the dire draught, and of the doctor dies;
No pills, no potions can to life restore;
Abracadabra, necromantic pow'r,
Can charm and conjure up from death no more,

The king himself may ask them till he's hoarse;

1 Omnibus hoc vitium est cantoribus, inter


But more than aught that's marvellous and rare, The studious Soph makes Polychasm' his care; Explores what secret spring, what hidden cause Distends with hideous chasm' the unwilling jaws, What latent ducts the dewy moisture pour With sound tremendous, like a thunder-show'r : How subtle matter, exquisitely thin, Pervades the curious net-work of the skin, Affects th' accordant nerve-all eyes are drown'd In drowsy vapours, and the yawn goes rouud. When Phoebus thus his flying fingers flings Across the chords, and sweeps the trembling If e'er a lyre at unison there be, [strings; It swells with emulating harmony, Like Memnon's harp, in ancient times renown'd, Breathing, untouch'd, sweet modulated sound.

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But oh! ungrateful to thy own true bard, Oh! Polychasin', is this my just reward! Thy drowsy dews upon my head distill, Just at the entrance of th' Aonian hill; Listless I gape, unactive, and supine, And at vast distance view the sacred Nine: Wistful I view the streams increase my thirst, In vain-like Tantalus, with plenty curst; No draughts nectareous to my portion fall, These godlike Pope exhausts, and greatly claims them all.

Thus the lean Sizar views, with gaze agast, In vain he grinds his teeth-his grudging eye The hungry tutor at his noon's repast; And visage sharp, keen appetite imply; The lessening relics of the meal awayOft he attempts, officious, to convey In vain no morsel 'scapes the greedy jaw, All, all is gorg'd in magisterial maw; Till at the last, observant of his word, The lamentable waiter clears the board, And inly-murmuring miserably groans, To see the empty dish,and hear the sounding bones,

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Act Beard, or Lowe, and show his tuneful art

From the plumb-pudding down to the desert. 2 Never on Earth was such a various elf, He every day possess'd a different self;

This is a servile selfishness, a fault
Which Justice scarce can punish as she ought.
Blind as a poking, dirt-compelling mole,
To all that stains thy own polluted soul,

Sometimes he'd scow'r along the streets like Yet each small failing spy'st in other men,


As if some fifty bailiffs were behind:

At other times he'd sadly saunt'ring crawl,

As tho' he led the hearse, or held the sable pall.
Now for promotion he was all on flame,
And ev'ry sentence from St. James's came.
He'd brag how Sir John**** met him in the
And how his Grace of ***** took him by the
How the prince saw him at the last review,
And ask'd who was that pretty youth in blue?
Now wou'd he praise the peaceful sylvan scene,
The healthful cottage, and the golden mean.
Now wou'd he cry, "contented let me dwell
Safe in the harbour of my college cell;
No foreign cooks, nor livery'd servants nigh,
Let me with comfort eat my mutton pye;
While my pint-bottle, op'd by help of fork,
With wine enough to navigate a cork,
My sober solitary meal shall crown,
To study edge the mind, and drive the vapours
Yet, strange to tell! this wond'rous student lay
Snoring in bed for all the livelong day;
Night was his time for labour-in a word,
Never was man so cleverly absurd.


• But here a friend of mine turns up his nose, "And you" (he cries) "are perfect, I suppose:" "Perfect! not I (pray, gentle sir, forbear) In this good age, when vices are so rare, I plead humanity, and claim my share. Who has not faults? great Marlborough had one, Nor Chesterfield is spotless, nor the Sun." Grubworm was railing at his friend Tom Queer, When Witwoud thus reproach'd him with a sneer, "Have you no flaws, who are so prone to snub?" "I have—but I forgive myself," quoth Grub.

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Spy'st with the quickness of an eagle's ken.
Tho' strong resentment rarely lag behind,
And all thy virulence be paid in kind.

Philander's temper's violent, nor fits
The wond'rous waggishness of modern wits;
His cap's awry, all ragged is his gown,
And (wicked rogue!) he wears his stockings
down ;

But h'as a soul ingenuous as his face,
To you a friend, and all the human race;
Genius, that all the depths of learning sounds,
And generosity, that knows no bounds.
In fruits like these if the good youth excel,
Let them compensate for the awkward shell.
Sift then yourself, I say, and sift again,
Glean the pernicious tares from out the graing
And ask thy heart, if custom, Nature's heir,
Hath sown no undiscover'd fern-seed there;
This be our standard then, on this we rest,
Nor search the casuists for another test.
6 Let's be like lovers gloriously deceiv'd,
And each good man a better still believ'd;
E'en Celia's wart Strephon will not neglect,
But praises, kisses, loves the dear defect.
Oh! that in friendship we were thus to blame,
And ermin'd candour, tender of our fame,
Wou'd clothe the honest errour with an honest

Be we then still to those we hold most dear,
Fatherly fond, and tenderly severe.
The sire, whose son squints forty thousand ways,
Finds in his features mighty room for praise:
"Ah! born" (he cries) "to make the ladies sigh,
Jacky, thou hast an amorous cast o' th' eye."

5 Iracundior est paullo minus aptus acutis Naribus horum hominum? rideri possit, eo quod Rusticius tonso toga defluit, and male laxus In pedo calceus hæret. At est bonus, ut melior vir [ingens Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus: at ingenium Inculto latet hoc sub corpore. Denique teipsun Concute, num qua tibi vitiorum inseverit olim Natura, aut etiam consuetudo mala. Namque Neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris,

Illuc prævertamur: amatorem quod amicæ Turpia decipiunt cæcum vitia, aut etiam ipsa hæc

Delectant: veluti Balbinum polypus Hagnæ:
Vellem in amicitia sic erraremus; & isti
Errori nomen virtus posuisset honestum.
At, pater ut nati, sic noc debemus amici,
Si quod sit vitium, non fastidire. Strabonem
Appellat pætum pater: & pulluun, male parvus
Si cui filius est: ut abortivus fuit olim
Sisyphus, hunc varum, distortis cruribus, illum
Balbutit scaurum, pravis fultum male talis.
Parcius hic vivit? frugì dicatur. Ineptus,
Et jactantior hic paullo est? concinnus amicis
Postulat ut videatur. At est turculentior, atque
Plus æquo liber? simplex, fortisque hab atur.
Caldior est acres inter numeretur. Opinor,
Hæc res & jungit, junctus & servat amicos.

Another child's abortive-he believes
Nature most perfect in diminutives;
And men of ev'ry rank with one accord
Salute each crooked rascal with my lord.
(For bandy legs, hump-back, and knocking knee,
Are all excessive signs of qty.)

Thus let us judge our friends-if Scrub subsist
Too meanly, Scrub is an economist;
And if Tom Tinkle is full loud and pert,
He aims at wit, and does it to divert.
Largus is apt to bluster, but you'll find
"Tis owing to his magnitude of mind:
Lollius is passionate, and loves a whore,
Spirit and constitution!-nothing more→→→
Ned to a bullying peer is ty'd for life,
And in commendamn holds a scolding wife;
Slave to a fool's caprice, and woman's will;
But patience, patience, is a virtue still!
Ask of Chamont a kingdom for a fish,
He'll give you three rather than spoil a dish;
Nor pride, nor luxury is in the case,
But hospitality-an't please your grače.
Should a great gen'ral give a drab a pension-
Meanness!-the devil-'tis perfect condescension.
Such ways make many friends, and make friends

Or else my good friend Horace reasons wrong.
7 But we alas! e'en virtuous deeds invert,
And into vice misconstrue all desert.
See we a man of modesty and merit,
Sober and meek-we swear he has no spirit;
We call him stupid, who with caution breaks
His silence, and will think before he speaks.
Fidelio treads the path of life with care,
And eyes his footsteps; for he fears a snare.
His wary way still scandal misapplies,
And calls him subtle, who's no more than wise.
If any man is unconstrain'd and free,
As oft, my Lælius, I have been to thee,
When rudely to thy room I chance to scour,
And interrupt thee in the studious hour,
From Coke and Lyttleton thy mind unbend,
With more familiar nonsense of a friend;
Talk of my friendship, and of thy desert,
Show thee my works, and candidly impart
At once the product of my head and heart,
Nasutus calls me fool, and clownish bear,
Nor (but for perfect candour) stops he there.
Ah! what unthinking, heedless things are

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Tardo, cognomen pingui damus. Hic fugit omnes
Insidias, nullique malo latus obdit apertum ?
(Cum genus hoc inter vitæ versetur, ubi acris
Invidia, atque vigent ubi crimina) pro bene sano,
Ac non incauto, fictum astutumque vocamus.
Simplicior, quis, qualem me sæpe libenter
Obtulerim tibi, Mæcenas, ut forte legentem
Aut tacitum impellat quovis sermone? molestus!
Communi sensu plane caret, inquimus. Ehen!
Quam temere in nosmet legem sancimus iniquam?
Nam vitiis nemo sine nascitur: optimus ille est,
Qui minimis urgetur. Amicus dulcis, ut æquum

Cum mea compenset vitiis bona, pluribus hisce,

Tenact such laws as must themselves condemn?
In every human soul some vices spring
(For fair perfection is no mortal thing)
Whoe'er is with the fewest faults endu'd,
Is but the best of what cannot be good.
Then view me, friend, in an impartial light,
Survey the good and bad, the black and white;
And if you find me, sir, upon the whole,
To be an honest and ingenuous soul,
By the same rule I'll measure you again,
And give you your allowance to a grain.
'Tis friendly and 'tis fair, on either hand,
To grant th' indulgence we ourselves demand.
If on your hump we cast a fav'ring eye,
You must excuse all those who are awry.
In short, since vice or folly, great or small,
Is more or less inherent in us all,
Whoe'er offends, our censure let us guide,
With a strong bias to the candid side;
Nor (as the stoics did in ancient times)
Rank little foibles with enormous crimes.

lf, when your butler, e'er he brings a dish,
Shou'd lick his fingers, or shou'd drop a fish,
Or from the side-board filch a cup of ale,
Enrag'd you send the puny thief to gaol;
You'd be (methink) as infamous an oaf,
As that immense portentous scoundrel-
Yet worse by far (if worse at all can be)
In folly and iniquity is he,

Who, for some trivial, social, well-meant joke,
Which candour shou'd forget as soon as spoke, `
Wou'd shun his friend, neglectful and unkind,
As if old parson Packthread was behind,
Who drags up all his visitors by force,
And without mercy reads them his discourse."
10 If sick at heart, and heavy at the head,
My drunken friend should reel betimes to bed,
And in the morn, with affluent discharge,
Should sign and seal his residence at large;

Si modo plura mihi bona sunt, inclinet; amari
Si volet hac lege, in trutina ponetur eadem.
Qui ne tuberibus propriis offendat amicum
Postulat; ignoscat verrucis illius. Æquum est,
Peccatis veniam poscentern reddere rursus.
Denique, quatenus excidi penitus vitium iræ,
Cætera item nequeunt stultis hærentia; cur non
Ponderibus, modulisque suis ratio utitur ? ac res
Ut quæque est, ita suppliciis delicta coercet?

9 Si quis eum servum, patinam qui tollerë


Semesos pisces, tepidumque ligurierit jus,
In cruce suffigat; Labeone insanior inter
Sanos dicatur. Quanto hoc furiosius atque
Majus peccatum est paullum deliquit amicus,
(Quod nisi concedas, habeare insuavis, acerbus ;}
Odisti, & fugis, ut Drusonem debitor æris?
Qui nisi cum tristes misero venere Calena,
Mercedem aut nummos unde unde extricat,


Porrecto jugulo historias, captivus ut, audit.

10 Comminxit lectum potus, mensave catillum Evandri manibus tritum dejecit: ob hanc rem, Aut positum ante mea quia pullum in parte catini

Sustulit esuriens, minus hoc jucundus amicus Sit mihi? quid faciam, si furtum fecerit ? aut si * An infamous attorney.

Or should be in some passionate debate,
By way of instance, break an earthen plate;
Wou'd I forsake him for a piece of delph ?
No not for China's wide domain itself.
If toys like these were cause of real grief,
What shou'd I do, or whither seek relief,
"Suppose him perjur'd faithless, pimp, or thief?"
Away-a foolish knavish tribe you are,
Who falsely put all vices on a par.
From this fair reason her assent withdraws,
E'en sordid interest gives up the cause,
That mother of our customs and our laws.
When first yon golden Sun array'd the east,
Small was the difference 'twixt man and beast;
With hands, with nails, with teeth, with clubs
they fought,
"Till malice was improv'd, and deadlier weapons
Language at length, and words experience found,
And sense obtain'd a vehicle in sound. [built,
Then wholesome laws were fram'd,and towns were
And justice seiz'd the lawless vagrant's guilt;
And theft, adultery, and fornication, [fashion:
Were punish'd much, forsooth, tho' much in
"For long before fair Helen's fatal charms
Had many a

Hiatus magnus lacrymabilis

set the world in arms. But kindly kept by no historian's care, They all, goodlack, have perish'd to an hair. But be that as it may, yet in all climes, There's diff'rent punishment for diff'rent crimes. "Hold,blockhead, hold-this sure is not the way, For all alike I'd lash, and all I'd slay," Cries W******N, "if I'd sovereign sway." Have sovereign sway, and an imperial robe, With fury sultanate* o'er half the globe. Meanwhile, if I from each indulgent friend, Obtain remission, when I chance t'offend, Why, in return, I'll make the balance even, And, for forgiving, they shall be forgiven.

Prodiderit commissa fide? sponsumve negarit? Queis paria esse fere placuit peccata, laborant, Cum ventum ad verum est; sensus, moresque


Atque ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater, & æqui. Cum prorepserunt primis animalia terris, Mutum & turpe pecus, glandem atque cubilia


Unguibus,& pugnis, dein fustibus, atque ita porro
Pugnabant armis, quæ post fabricaverat usus:
Donec verba, quibus voces, sensusque notarent,
Nominaque invenere; dehinc absistere bello,
Oppida cœperunt munire, & ponere leges;
Ne quis fur esset, neu latro, neu quis adulter.

Nam fuit ante Helenam cunnus teterrima

Causa: sed ignotis perierunt mortibus illi, Quos Venerem incertam rapientes more ferarum Viribus editior cædebat, ut in grege taurns.

-- dum tu quadrante lavatum Rex ibis, neque te quisquam stipator, ineptum Præter Crispinum, sectabitur: & mihi dulces Ignoscent, si quid peccavero stultus, amici:

A word coined in the manner of Mr. Warburton.

12 With zeal I'll love, be courteous e'en to strife, More blest than emperors in private life.


WHILE mercenary actors tread the stage,
And hireling scribblers lash or lull the age,
Our's be the task t' instruct, and entertain,
Without one thought of glory or of gain.
Virtue's her own-from no external cause-
She gives, and she demands the self-applause:
Home to her breast she brings the heart-felt

Heedless alike of profit, and of praise.
This now perhaps is wrong-yet this we know,
'Twas sense and truth a century ago:
When Britain, with transcendant glory crown'd,
For high achievements, as for wit renown'd,
Cull'd from each growing grace the purest part,
And cropt the flowers from every blooming art,
Our noblest youths would then embrace the task
Of comic humour, or the mystic masque.
'Twas theirs t' encourage worth, and give to bards
What now is spent in boxing and in cards:
Good sense their pleasure-virtue still their

And English magnanimity-their pride.
Methinks I see with Fancy's magic eye,
The shade of Shakespeare, in yon azure sky.
On yon high cloud behold the bard advance,
Piercing all Nature with a single glance:
In various attitudes around him stand
The Passions, waiting for his dread command.
First kneeling Love before his feet appears,
And musically sighing melts in tears.
Near him fell Jealousy with fury barns,
And into storms the amorous breathings turns;
Then Hope with heavenward look, and Joy draws

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Prudella first in parody begins,

(For nonsense and buffoonery are twins)
"Can beaux the court for theatres exchange?
I swear by Heaven 'tis strange, 'tis passing

And very whimsical, and mighty dull,
And pitiful, and wond'rous pitiful:

I wish I had not heard it"-blessed dame!
Whene'er she speaks her audience wish the same.
Next Neddy Nicely-" Fye, O fye, good lack,
A nasty man to make his face all black."
Then lady Stiffneck shows her pious rage,
And wonders we shou'd act-upon a stage.
"Why, ma'am," says Coquetilla," a disgrace?
Merit in any form may show her face:

In this dull age the male things ought to play,
To teach them what to do, and what to say."
In short, they all with diff'rent cavils cram us,
And only are unanimous to damn us:
But still there are a fair judicious few,
Who judge unbiass'd, and with candour view;
Who value honesty, though clad in buff,
And wit, though dress'd in an old English ruff.
Behold them here I beaming sense descry,
Shot from the living lustre of each eye.
Such meaning smiles each blooming face adorn,
As deck the pleasure-painted brow of morn;
And show the person of each matchless fair,
Though rich to rapture, and above compare,
Is, ev'n with all the skill of Heav'n design'd,
But an imperfect image of their mind;
While chastity unblemish'd and unbrib'd
Adds a majestic mien that scorns to be describ'd:
Such we will vaunt, and only such as these,
'Tis our ambition, and our fame to please.


(Enters reading a Play Bill.)

A VERY pretty bill—as I'm alive!
The part of-nobody-by Mrs. Clive!
A paltry scribbling fool-to leave me out-
He'll say, perhaps he thought I cou'd not spout.
Malice and envy to the last degree!
And why?—I wrote a farce as well as he,
And fairly ventur'd it-without the aid

Of prologue dress'd in black, and face in masquerade;

Oh! Pit-have pity-see how I'm dismay'd!
Poor soul! this canting stuff will never do.
Unless like Bayes he bring his hangman too.
But granting that from these same obsequies,
Some pickings to our bard in black arise;
Should your applause to joy convert his fear,
As Pallas turns to feast-Lardella's bier ;
Yet 'twould have been a better scheme by half
T'have thrown his weeds aside, and learnt with
me to laugh.

I cou'd have shown him, had he been inclin'd,
A spouting junto of the female kind.
There dwells a milliner in yonder row,
Well dress'd, full voic'd,and nobly built for show,
Who, when in rage she scolds at Sue and Sarah,
Damn'd,damn'd dissembler !-thinks she's more
than Zara.

She has a daughter too that deals in lace,
And sings-O ponder well-and Chevy Chase,
And fain wou'd fill the fair Ophelia's place.
And in her cock'd up hat, and gown of camblet,
Presumes on something-touching the lord

A cousin too she has with squinting eyes,
With waddling gait,and voice like London Cries;
Who for the stage too short by half a story,
Acts Lady Townly-thus-in all her glory.
And while she's traversing her scanty room,
Cries-" Lord! my lord, what can I do at home!"
In short, we've girls enough for all the fellows,
The ranting, whining, starting, and the jealous,
The Hotspurs, Romeos, Hamlets, and Othellos.
Oh! little do these silly people know,
What dreadful trials-actors undergo.
Myself-who most in harmony delight,
Am scolding here from morning until night.
Then take advice from me, ye giddy things,
Ye royal milliners, ye apron'd kings;
Young men beware, and shun our slippery ways,
Study arithmetic, and shun our plays;
And you, ye girls, let not our tinsel train
Enchant your eyes, and turn your madd'ning

Be timely wise, for oh! be sure of this;
A shop, with virtue, is the height of bliss.



(Enters with a child.) WHOE'ER begot thee, has no cause to blush: Thou'rt a brave chopping boy, (child cries) nay, hush! hush! hush!

A workman, faith! a man of rare discretion,
A friend to Britain, and to our profession:
With face so chubby, and with looks so glad,
O rare roast beef of England-here's a lad!
(Shows him to the Company. J

(Child makes a noise again.)
Nay if you once begin to puke and cough,
Go to the nurse. Within!-bere take him off.
Well, Heav'n be prais'd, it is a peopling age,
Thanks to the bar, the pulpit, and the stage;
But not to th' army-that's not worth a farthing,
The captains go too much to Covent Garden,
Spoil many a girl,but seldom make a mother,
They foil us one way--but we have them t'other.
(Shakes a box of pilis.)

The nation prospers by such joyous souls,
Hence smokes my table, hence my chariot rolls.
Tho' some snug jobs, from surgery may spring,
Man-midwifry, mian-midwifry's the thing!
Lean shou'd I be, e'en as my own anatomy,
By mere cathartics and by plain phlebotomy.
Well, besides gain, besides the pow'r to please,
Besides the music of such birds as these,

(Shakes a purse.}

It is a joy refin'd, unmix'd and pure,
To hear the praises of the grateful poor.

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