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Hath Nature (strange and wild conceit of
pride) Distinguished thee from all her sons beside? Doth virtue in thy bosom brighter glow, Or from a spring more pure doth action flow? Is not thy soul bound with those very chains Which shackle us ? or is that self, which reigns O'er kings and beggars, which in all we see Most strong and sovereign, only weak in thee? Fond man, believe it not; expefience tells 'Tis not thy virtue, but thy pride rebels. Think, (and for once lay by thy lawless pen) Think, and confess thyself like other men ; Think but one hour, and, to thy conscience led By Reason's hand, bow down and hang thy head: Think on thy private life, recall thy youth, View thyself now, and own, with strictest truth, That self hath drawn thee from fair virtue's way Farther than folly would have dared to stray, 200 And that the talents liberal Nature gave To make thee free, have made thee more a slave.
Quit then, in prudence quit, that idle train Of toys, which have so long abused thy brain, And captive led thy powers; with boundless will Let self maintain her state and empire still, But let her, with more worthy objects caught, Strain all the faculties and force of thought To things of higher daring ; let her range Through better pastures, and learn how to change; Let her, no longer to weak faction tied, Wisely revolt, and join our stronger side.
C. Ah! what, my Lord, hath private life to do With things of public nature? why to view Would you thus cruelly those scenes unfold Which, without pain and horror to behold, Must speak me something more, or less than man, Which friends may pardon, but I never can ? Look back ! a thought which borders on despair, Which human nature must, yet cannot bear. 'Tis not the babbling of a busy world, Where praise and censure are at random hurld, Which can the meanest of my thoughts control, Or shake one settled purpose of
my soul; Free and at large might their wild curses roam, If all, if all alas ! were well at home. No—'tis the tale which angry conscience tells, When she with more than tragic horror swells Each circumstance of guilt ; when stern, but true, She brings bad actions forth into review, And like the dread hand-writing on the wall, Bids late remorse awake at reason's call ; Arm'd at all points, bids scorpion vengeance pass, And to the mind holds up reflection's glass, The mind which, starting, heaves the heart-felt
groan, And hates that form she knows to be her own.
218_236 These lines forcibly allude to the deep sense the Poet entertained of the connexion he had formed with Miss Carr, the particulars of which have been detailed in the memoir of his life. Self-condemnation so just, so public, and Levere, if it does not excite compassion, should at least temper justice with wercy.
Enough of this,—let private sorrows rest,As to the public, I dare stand the test; Dare proudly boast, I feel no wish above The good of England, and my country's love, 9 Stranger to party-rage, by reason's voice, Unerring guide, directed in my choice, Not all the tyrant powers of earth combined, No, nor of hell, shall make me change my mind. What! herd with men my honest soul disdains, Men who, with servile zeal are forging chains For Freedom's neck, and lend a helping hand To spread destruction o'er my native land. What! shall I not, e’en to my latest breath, In the full face of danger and of death Exert that little strength which nature gave, And boldly stem, or perish in the wave?
L. When I look backward for some fifty years,
253 This recapitulation of inconsistencies will apply unfortunately to every period of British history. The peerages conferred on a Wentworth, a Pulteney, a Granville, and a Pitt, the moral declamation of an Earl of Sandwich in the House of Lords, against the Essay on Woman, the religious zeal of a Wharton, and the moderation of a Warburton, would contribute to fill the outline sketched by the satirist. Wal. pole in a letter to George Montagu writes, “You know I have long had a partiality for your cousin Sandwich, who has out-Sandwiched himself. He has impeached Wilkes for a blasphemous poem, and has been expelled for blasphemy himself by the Beef-steak Club in Covent Garden. Wilkes has been shot by Martin, and instead of being burnt at an auto da fe, as the Bishop of Gloucester intended, is reverenced as a saint by the mob; and if he dies, I suppose the people will squint themselves into convulsions at his tomb in honour of his memory.” Wilkes's very portentous squint was no
And see protesting patriots turn’d to peers ;
drawback on his popularity: in one of his triumphal processions, one of his female admirers in the mob observed to another, “ It is a pity he squints so." “ Squints, do you say, he does not squint more than a gentleman should do," was the reply.
260 Of the exaggerated patriotism of Paul Whitehead, and the price of his apostasy, some notice will be taken in a remark on the third book of the Ghost.
260 Mr. James Ralph,“ an author by profession,” the claims of which literary class as such. he vindicated in a pamphlet which created some sensation at the time he first appeared as a poet, and was satirized in the Dunciad. He wrote sev. eral plays, and among others the Astrologer, borrowed from the old comedy of Albumazar, which was the foundation of Johnson's Alchymist. In the dramatic line he was ever unsuccessful. In the year 1742, the Duchess of Marlborough having published the Memoirs of her own life, Ralph
Galling thy present friends, and praising those Whom now thy frenzy holds thy greatest foes. C. May I (can worse disgrace on manhood
fall ?) Be born a Whitehead, and baptized a Paul ; May I (though to his service deeply tied By sacred oaths, and now by will allied) With false feign’d zeal an injured God defend, And use his name for some base private end ; May I (that thought bids double horrors roll O'er
my sick spirits, and unmans my soul) Ruin the virtue which I held most dear, And still must hold ; May 1, through abject fear, Betray my friend ; may to succeeding times,
wrote an answer to it called, “ The other side of the Question.” This performance contributed to raise his reputation in the literary world, and during Sir Robert Walpole's administration he became so formidable as a political writer, as Editor of the Protester and the Remembrancer, that it was thought expedient to engage his services by the payment of an annual stipend, which was continued to him by Mr. Pelham, on condition of his attacking his former patron. Influenced by these motives, he engaged in the defence of government, and laboured so successfully in his vocation, as at the death of George II. to obtain, through the interest of Lord Bute, a settled pension of £600 per annum, which he lived not long to enjoy. He died, in 1762, a martyr to the gout, at the age of 54. He wrote in 1734, a critical review of the public buildings in London, and also a tory history of England commencing with the dynasty of the Stuarts. He was latterly attached to Frederic, Prince of Wales, and his name frequently occurs in Lord Melcombe's Diary, as one of the principal literary agents of the court of Leicester House. Horace Walpole observes of him that his turn seemed to be