THE CONFERENCE. THIS Poem was published by our Author in November 1763, soon after his elopement with Miss Carr had become a general topic of indignant remark. He in it labours to separate the effects of his private from those of his public conduct, and in the bitterness of his soul contrasts the devious path of the one with the invariable rectitude of the other. At this period of time it is of little importance to inquire into the infirmities of his nature, and, while the precepts of the most rigid virtue, patriotism, and morality are inculcated in his satires, unnecessary to dwell upon the imperfections of their author. To have been deceived in common with Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt, by the assumed patriotism of Wilkes, is scarcely to be imputed to him as a crime, and he did not live to witness the second period of the seditious efforts, and the final tergiversation of that artful demagogue. No exertions were omitted to obtain even the neutrality of Churchill, but pensions and preferments were in vain offered to one whose soul rose superior to all the sordid views of interest, and aspired to the praises of posterity by a steady adherence to the principles of public virtue. Excepting his fatal delusion with regard to Wilkes, Churchill may be instanced as one of the few Poets who have not prostituted their pens by the most fulsome flattery to wealth and power. The adulation which a Young, a Thomson, and a Gray, lavished upon a Walpole, a Doddington, and a Grafton, reflects disgrace upon the Poet, while it can confer no solid fame upon the patron. At a time when the Bard as well as his adventurous friend becoming more than ordinarily the subject of public attention might expect to suffer more than a due degree of censure for any recent indiscretion, it was not ill-judged in Churchill to submit to bear his portion of the expression of public opinion now loudly directed against the immoralities of himself and Wilkes, and by fairly anticipating greatly to obviate the force of what his enemies might have to urge against him. THE CONFERENCE. GRACE said in form, which sceptics must agree, 10 [foes. And where she makes one friend makes twenty C. Your Lordship's fears are just; I feel their 15 force, But only feel it as a thing of course. At his first setting forward ought to know 20 But shall the partial rage of selfish men 25 30 L. What is this boasted Virtue taught in And idly drawn from antiquated rules? What is her use? point out one wholesome end: Will she hurt foes, or can she make a friend? When from long fasts fierce appetites arise, Can this same Virtue stifle Nature's cries? Can she the pittance of a meal afford, Or bid thee welcome to one great man's board? When northern winds the rough December arm With frost and snow, can Virtue keep thee warm? Canst thou dismiss the hard unfeeling dun Barely by saying, thou art Virtue's son? Or by base blundering statesmen sent to jail, Will Mansfield take this Virtue for thy bail? Believe it not, the name is in disgrace; Virtue and Temple now are out of place. Quit then this meteor, whose delusive ray From wealth and honour leads thee far astray. 40 True virtue means, let Reason use her eyes, 45 58 Let Prudence be thy guide; who doth not know How seldom Prudence can with Virtue go? To be successful try thy utmost force, Hirco, who knows not Hirco? stains the bed Of that kind master who first gave him bread; Scatters the seeds of discord through the land, Breaks every public, every private band; Beholds with joy a trusting friend undone ; Betrays a brother, and would cheat a son: What mortal in his senses can endure The name of Hirco? for the wretch is poor! "Let him hang, drown, starve, on a dunghill rot, By all detested live, and die forgot; Let him, a poor return, in every breath 60 Feel all death's pains, yet be whole years in death," Is now the general cry we all pursue ; Let fortune change, and Prudence changes too; Supple and pliant, a new system feels, Throws up her cap, and spaniels at his heels, 70 Long live great Hirco, cries, by interest taught, And let his foes, though I prove one, be nought. C. Peace to such men, if such men can have peace, Let their possessions, let their state, increase; 75 With such vile instruments their fortunes carve; Rogues may grow fat, an honest man dares L. These stale conceits thrown off, let us ad vance For once to real life, and quit romance. 90 C. What proof might do, what hunger might effect, 95 What famish'd Nature, looking with neglect death, In treason to my soul, descend to bear, Trusting to fate, I neither know nor care. Once, at this hour those wounds afresh I feel, Which nor prosperity nor time can heal, 100 Those wounds, which, fate severely hath decreed, Mention'd or thought of, must for ever bleed; Those wounds, which humbled all that pride of man, Which brings such mighty aid to virtue's plan; |