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S A TIR E

UPON PLAGIARIES *.

W

HY fhould the world be fo averse
To plagiary privateers,

That all men's fenfe and fancy feize,
And make free prize of what they please?
As if, because they huff and fwell,
Like pilferers, full of what they fteal,
Others might equal power affume,
To pay them with as hard a doom;
To fhut them up, like beafts in pounds,
For breaking into others' grounds;
Mark them with characters and brands,
Like other forgers of men's hands,

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* It is not improbable but that Butler, in this fatire, or fneering apology for the plagiary, obliquely hints at Sir John Denham, whom he has directly attacked in a preceding poem.

Butler was not pleased with the two first lines of this compofition, as appears by his altering them in the margin, thus:

Why fhould the world be fo fevere

To every small-wit privateer?

And indeed the alteration is much for the better; but, as it would not connect grammatically with what follows, I did not think proper to adopt it,

And in effigie hang and draw

The poor delinquents by club-law,

When no indictment justly lies,

But where the theft will bear a price.

For though wit never can be learn'd,

It may b' aflum'd, and own'd, and earn'd,
And, like our nobleft fruits, improv'd,
By being transplanted and remov'd;
And, as it bears no certain rate,
Nor pays one penny to the state,

With which it turns no more t' account
Than virtue, faith, and merit 's wont ;
Is neither moveable nor rent,
Nor chattel, goods, nor tenement,
Nor was it ever pass'd b' entail,
Nor fettled upon heirs-male;
Or if it were, like ill-got land,
Did never fall t' a fecond hand;
So 'tis no more to be engrofs'd
Than funfhine, or the air inclos'd,

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Be fcanted of that liberal ufe,

Which all mankind is free to chufe,

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And idly hoarded where 'twas bred,

Instead of being difpers'd and spread ?
And, the more lavish and profuse,
'Tis of the nobler general ufe ;.
As riots, though fupply'd by ftealth,
Are wholesome to the commonwealth,
And men spend freelier what they win,
Than what they 'ave freely coming in.
The world 's as full of curious wit,
Which thofe that father never writ,
As 'tis of baftards, which the fot

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And cuckold owns that ne'er begot ;

Yet pafs as well as if the one

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And th' other bye-blow were their own.

For why should he that 's impotent

To judge, and fancy, and invent,
For that impediment be stopt
To own, and challenge, and adopt,
At least th' expos'd and fatherless
Poor orphans of the pen and prefs,
Whofe parents are obfcure, or dead,
Or in far countries born and bred?

As none but kings have power to raise
A levy, which the subject pays,
And though they call that tax a loan,
Yet when 'tis gather'd 'tis their own ;
So he that 's able to impofe

A wit-excife on verfe or profe,

And ftill, the abler authors are,

Can make them pay the greater share,

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Is prince of poets of his time,

And they his vaffals that supply' him ; +Can judge more justly' of what he takes Than any of the best he makes,

And more impartially conceive

What's fit to chufe, and what to leave.
For men reflect more strictly' upon
The fenfe of others than their own ;
And wit, that 's made of wit and fleight,
Is richer than the plain downright :

As falt, that 's made of falt, 's more fine,
Than when it first came from the brine;
And spirits of a nobler nature

Drawn from the dull ingredient matter.
Hence mighty Virgil 's faid, of old,

From dung to have extracted gold
(As many a lout and filly clown
By his inftructions fince has done);
-And grew more lofty by that means,
Than by his livery-oats and beans,
When from his carts and country farms
He rose a mighty man at arms;

To whom th' Heroics ever fince

Have fworn allegiance, as their prince,
And faithfully have in all times
Obferv'd his cuftoms in their rhymes.
'Twas counted learning once, and wit,
To void but what fome author writ,
And what men understood by rote,
By as implicit fenfe to quote:

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Then

Then many a magisterial clerk

Was taught, like finging-birds, i' th' dark,
And understood as much of things,

As th' ableft blackbird what it fings;

And yet was honour'd and renown'd

For grave, and folid, and profound.

Then why should those who pick and chuse
The best of all the best compose,

And join it by Mosaic art,

In graceful order, part to part,
To make the whole in beauty fuit,
Not merit as complete repute

As those who with lefs art and pains
Can do it with their native brains,
And make the home-fpun business fit
As freely with their mother wit ;
Since, what by Nature was deny'd
By art and industry 's supply'd,
Both which are more our own,
Than all the alms that Nature gave?
For what w' acquire by pains and art
Is only due t'our own defert ;

and brave,

While all th' endowments the confers.
Are not fo much our own as her's,
That, like good fortune, unawares
Fall not t' our virtue, but our fhares,
And all we can pretend to merit
We do not purchase, but inherit.

Thus all the great'ft inventions, when
They firft were found out, were fo mean,

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