« السابقةمتابعة »
Attack'd on every part :
Her barbarous army fled;
Against whose solid feet,
And Thade its brightest scenes ;
Think all they see deceit ;
Yet doubt of light and heat.
A smiling mask her features veild,
Last on the left was Clamour seen,
With these, four more of lesser fame,
The walls in sculptur'd tale were rich,
With look compos'd the pris'ner stood,
Proceed we now, in humbler strains,
Th’ indictment grievously set forth,
He was a second time indicted,
"HE court was met; the pris'ner brought;
The counsel with instructions fraught;
But first 'tis meet, where form denies
Begin we then (as first 'tis fitting)
Above the rest, and in the chair,
whence diffentions rise ;
*George Lyttelton, Esq. afterwards Lord Lyttelton. The Persian Letters of tiis nobleman were written under the character of Selim, which occasioned Mr. Moore to give him the same name in this poem.
* Afterwards Earl of Chatham.
+ Mr. Lyttelton was appointed a Lord of the Treasury 25th Dec. 1744.
In Letter to one Gilbert West, *
And all this zeal to re-instate He, the said Selim, did atteft,
Exploded notions, out of date; Maintain, support, and make assertion
Sending old rakes to church in ihoals, Of certain points, from Paul's conversion,
Like children, i fniv'ling for their fouls By means whereof the said apostle
And ladies gay, from smut and libels, Did many an unbeliever joftie,
To learn beliefs, and read their bibles ; Starting unfashionable fancies,
Erecting conscience for a tutor, And building truths on known romances.
To damn the present by the future : A third charge ran, that knowing well
As if to evils known and real Wits only eat as pamphlets sell,
'Twas needful to annex ideal ; He, tho said Selim, notwithstanding,
When all of human life we know Did fall to answ'ring, Ihaming, branding
Is care, and bitterness, and woe, Three curious Letters to the Whigs ti
With short transitions of delight, Making no reader care three figs
To set the latter'd spirits right. For any facts contain'd therein ;
Then why such mighty pains and care, By which uncharitable fin
To make us hum: ler than we are ? An author, modest and deserving,
Forbidding short-liv’d mirth and laughter, Was destin'd to contempt and starving ;
By fears of what may come hereafter? Against the king, his crown and peace,
Better in ignorance to dwell ; And all the statutes in that case.
None fear, but who believe a hell ; The pleader rose with brief full charg'd,
And if there should be one, no doubt, And on the pris'ner's crimes enlarg'da
Men of themselves would find it out. But not to damp the Muse's fire
But Selim's crimes, he said, went further, With rhet’ric, such as courts require,
And barely stopp'd on this side'murther ; We'll try to keep the reader warm,
One yet remain'd to close the charge, And fift the matter from the form.
To which (with leave) he'd speak at large, Virtue and social love, he said,
And, first, 'twas needful to premise, And honour from the land were fled ;
That though so long (for reasons wise) That patriots now, like other folks,
The press inviolate had stood, Were made the but of vulgar jokes ;
Productive of the public good ; While Opposition dropp'd her crest,
Yet still, too modeft to abuse, And courted pow'r for wealth and rest.
It rail'd at vice, but told not whose. Why some folks laugh'd, and some folks rail'd, That great improvements, of late days, Why some submitted, some affail'd,
Were made, to many an author's praise, Angy or pleas'd-all folv'd the doubt
Who, not so scrupulously nice, With who were in, and who were out.
Proclaim'd the person with the vice ; The sons of Clamour grew so sickly,
Or gave, where vices might be wanted, They look:d for dissolution quickly;
The name, and took the rest for granted. Their Weekly Journals, finely written,
Upon this plan, a Champion * rose, Were sunk in privies all besh;
Unrighteous greatness to oppose, Old-England I, and the London-Evening,
Proving the man “inventus ngn eft," Hardly a soul was found believing in ;
Who trades in pow'r, and still is honeft; And Calebll, once so bold and strong,
And (God be prais'd) he did it roundly, Was stupid now, and always wrong.
Flogging a certain junto soundly. Ask ye whence rose this foul disgrace?
But chief his anger was directed, . Why Selim has receiv'd a place,
Where people least of all suspected ; And thereby brought the cause to Thame;
And Selim, not so itrong as tall, Proving that people, void of blame,
Beneath his grasp appear'd to fall. Might serve their country and their king,
But Innocence (as people say) By making both the self-fame thing:
Stood by, and sav'd him in the fray. By which the credulous believ'd,
By her affifted, and one Truth, And others (by strange arts deceiv’d)
A busy, prating, forward youth, That Ministers were sometimes right,
He rally'd all his strength anew, And meant not to destroy us quite.
And at the soe a Letter threwt: That bart'ring thus in state affairs,
His weakest part the weapon found, He next must deal in sacred wares,
And brought him senseless to the ground, The clergy's rights divine invade,
Hence Opposition fled the field, And smuggle in the gospel-trade ;
And Ignorance with her seven-fold Thield;
And well they might, for (things weighi'd fully) Entitled, “ Observations on the Conversion and The prisoner with his Whore and Bully, Apostleship of St. Paul. In 4 Letter to Gilbert Must prove for every foe too hard, Weft, Esq." 8vo. 1747.
Who never fought with such a guard. + Entitled, " Three Letters to the Whigs; occa. But Truth and Innocence, he said, fioned by the Letter to the Tories." 8vo. 1748. Would stand him here in little stead;
| An Opposition Paper at that time published, in which Mr. Lyttelton was frequently abused,
* Author of the Letters to the Whigs. || Caleb D'Anvers, the name assumed by the + Probably, “A Congratulatory Letter to Selim writers of the Craftsman.
on the Letters to the Whigs." Svo. 1748.
For they had evidence on oath,
The court, he said, knew all the rest That would appear too hard for both.
And must proceed as they thought beft; Of witnesses a fearful train
Only he hop'd such resignation. Came next, th' indictments to sustain ;
Would plead some little mitigation ; Detraction, Hatred, and Distrust,
And if his character was clear And Party, of all foes the worst,
From other faults (and friends were near, Malice, Revenge, and Unbelief,
Who would, when call'd upon, attest it) And Disappointment worn with grief,
He did in humbleft form requeft it, Dishonour foul, unaw'd by shame,
To be from punishment exempt, And every fiend that Vice can name.
And only suffer their contempt. All these in ample form depos’d,
The prisoner's friends their claim preferr'd, Each fact the triple charge disclos'd,
In turn demanding to be heard. With taunts and gibes of bitter sort,
Integrity and Honour swore, And asking vengeance from the court.
Benevolence, and twenty more, The pris’ner faid in his defence,
That he was always of their party, That he indeed had small pretence
And that they knew him firm and hearty. To soften facts so deeply sworn,
Religion, sober dame, attended, But would for his offences mourn ;
And, as she could, his cause befriended. Yet more he hop'd than bare repentance
She said, 'twas since he came from college, Might still be urg'd to ward the sentence.
She knew him introduc'd by Knowledge : That he had held a place some years,
The man was modest and sincere, He own'd with penitence and tears,
Nor farther could the interfere. But took it not from motives base,
The muses begg'd to interpose ; Th'indictment there miftook the case;
But Envy with loud hillings rose, And though he had betray'd his trust
And call'd them women of ill fame, In being to his country just,
Liars, and prostitutes to shame ; Neglecting Faction and her friends,
And said, to all the world ’twas known, He did it not for wicked ends,
Selim had had them every one. But that complaints and feuds might cease,
The pris’ner blush'd, the Muses frown'd, And jarring parties mix in peace.
When silence was proclaim'd around, That what he wrote to Gilbert West,
And Faction rising with the rest, Bore hard against him, he confess’d;
In form the pris’ner thus address’d. Yet there they wrong'd him; for the fact is,
You, Selim, thrice have been indicted: He reason'd for Belief, not Practice;
First, that hy wicked pride excited, And People might believe, he thought,
And bent your country to disgrace, Though Practice might be deemed a fault.
You have receiv'd, and held a Place : He either dreamt it, or was told,
Next, Infidelity to wound, Religion was rever'd of old,
You've dar'd, with arguments profound, That it gave breeding no offence,
To drive Freethinking to a stand, And was no foe to wit and sense;
And with Religion vex the land : But whether this was truth, or whim,
And lastly in contempt of right, He would not fay; the doubt with him
With horrid and unnat'ral spite, (And no great harm he hop'd) was, how
You have an Author's fame o'erthrown, Th' enlighten'd world would take it now:
Thereby to build and fence your own. If they admitted it, 'twas well;
These crimes successive, on your trial, If not, he never talk'd of hell;
Have met with proofs beyond denial; Nor even hop'd to change men's meafures,
To which yourself, with same, conceded, Or frighten ladies from their pleasures.
And but in mitigation pleaded. One accusation, he confess'd,
Yet that the justice of the court Had touch'd him more than all the rest;
May suffer not in men's report, Three Patriot-Letters, high in fame,
Judgment a moment I fuspend, By him o'erthrown, and brought to shame.
To reason as from friend to friend. And though it was a rule in vogue,
And first, that You, of all mankind, If one man call'd another rogue,
With Kings and Courts should stain your mind! The party injur'd might reply,
You! who were Opposition's lord ! And on his foe retort the lie;
Her nerves, her sinews, and her sword ! Yet what accru'd from all his labour,
That You at last, for servile ends, But foul dishonour to his neighbour
Should wound the towels of her friends! And he's a most unchristian elf,
Is aggravation of offence, Who others damns to save himself.
That leaves for mercy no pretente. Besides, as all men knew, he said,
Yet more -For You to urge your hate, Those Letters only rail'd for bread;
And hack the Church, to aid the State ! And hunger was a known excuse
For You to publish such a Letter! For prostitution and abuse :
You ! who have known Religion better! A guinea, properly apply'd,
For You, I say, to introduce Had made the Writer change his fide ;
The fraud again there's no excuse. He with'd he had not cut and carv'd him,
And last of all, to crown your shame, And own’d, he should have bought, not starv'd him. Was it for you to load with blame
The writings of a Patriot-Youth,
VII. And fummon Innocence and Truth
«?Twas prudent though to drop his BayesTo prop your cause-Was this for You ! “ And (entre nous) the Laureat says, But Juftice does your crimes pursue ;
“ He hopes he'll give up Richard. And sentence now alone remains,
“ But then it tickles me to fee, Which thus, by Me, the court ordains :
“ In Hastings, such a shrimp as he “ That you return from whence you came,
“ Attempt to ravish Pritchard. " There to be stript of all your fame
VIII. « By vulgar hands; That once a week
“ The fellow pleased me well enough « Old England pinch you till you fqueak;
« In · what d'ye call it? Hoadley's stult; « That ribbald Pamphlets do pursue you,
" There's something there like nature: " And lies and murmurs, to undo you.
“ Just so, in life, he runs about, “ With every foe that Worth procures,
“ Plays at bo-peep, now in, now out, " And only Virtue's friends be Yours."
“ But hurts no mortal creature.
" And then there's Belmont, to be sure
“ O ho! my gentle Neddy Moore ! G A R R I C K,
" How does my good lord-mayor? “And have you left Cheapfide, my dear!
“ And will you write again next year, THE TALK OF THE TOWN.
"To Thew your fav’rite player ? “ When I faid I would die a batchelor, I did not
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. “ Eumenes charms in every line;
“ How prettily he vapours!
“ So gay his dress, so young his look, To, no; the left-hand box, in bļue;
“ One would have fworn 'twas Mr. Cook, There! don't you see her!“See her! Who?"
“ Or Mathews, cutting capers." Nay, hang me if I tell. There's Garrick in the music-box!
And councils hold at every rout,
Yates shall be Benedict next year,
Macklin be Richard, Taswell Lear,
And Kitty Clive be Bayes.
Two parts they readily allow
Are yours; but not one more, they vow;
And thus they close their spite: The clera' too have join'd the chat ;
You will be Sir John Brute, they say, “ A papift Has he thought of that?
A very Sir John Brute all day, « Or means he to convert her?!"
And Fribble all the night. Troth, boy, unless your zeal be stout,
But tell me, fair ones, is it so?
“ You all did love him once *;" we know; IV.
What then provokes your gall? The ladies, pale and out of breath,
Forbear to rail. I'll tell you why;
Quarrels may come, or madam die,
And then there's hope for all. 0, David! listen to my lay!
XIV. 1'd prophesy the things they'll say;
And now a word or two remains,
Sweet Davy, and I close my strains :
Think well ere you engage ; “And pray, what other news d' ye hear?
Vapours and ague-fits may come, " Marry'd !-But don't you think, my dear,
And matrimonial claims at home, “ He's growing out of fashion?
Un-nerve you for the stage. " People may fancy what they will,
XV. " But Quin's the only actor still,
But if you find your spirits right,
Your mind at ease, your body tight,
Take her; you can't do better: “ Nay, madam, did you mind, last night,
A pox upon the tattling Town! “ His Archer? Not a line on't right!
The fops that join to cry her down “ I thought I heard some hiffes.
Would give their ears to get her. « Good God! if Billy Mills, thought I, “Or Billy Havard would but try,
* Jilius Cesar. “ They'd beat him all to pieces.
But the first was too great, and the laft was too good, Then if her heart be good and kind,
And as for the rest, she might get whom she cou'd. (And sure that face bespeaks a mind
Away burried Fortune, perplex'd and half mad, As soft as woman's can be)
But her promise was pass'd, and a wife must be had : You'll grow as constant as a dove,
She travers'd the town from one corner to t'other, And taste the purer sweets of love,
Now knocking at one door, and then at another.
The girls curtsy'd low as the look'd in their faces,
But this was coquettish, and that was a prude,
A third was affected, quite careless a fourth,
A fifth, and a fixth, and a seventh were such
In short as they pass'd, the to all had objections ; AYS Envy to Fortune, “Soft, soft, Madam Flirt! The gay wanted thought, the good-humour'd affec. “ Not so fast with your wheel, you'll be down tions, in the dirt!
The prudent were ugly, the fenfible dirty, • Well, and how does your David ? Indeed, my dear and all of them Airts, from fifteen up to thirty. creature,
When Fortune saw this she began to look filly, “ You've shewn him a wonderful deal of good-na- Yet still she went on till the reach'd Piccadilly ; ture;
But vex'd and fatigu’d, and the night growing late, “ His bags are sq full, and such praises his due, She refted her wheel within Burlington gate. “ That the like was ne'er known--and all owing to My lady rose up, as she faw her come in, you;
" 'O ho, madam Genius! pray where have you “ But why won't you make him quite happy for life, been ?" « And to all you have done add the gift of a wife?" (For her ladyship thought, from so serious an air, Says Fortune, and smild, “Madam Envy, God Twas Genius come home, for it seems she liv'd fave ye!
there.) “ But why always sneering at me and poor Davy? But Fortune, not minding her ladyfhip’s blunder, $ I own that sometimes, in contempt of all rules, And wiping her forehead, cry'd, “ Well may you 6. I lavish my favours on blockheads and fools;
wonder * But the case is quite different here, I aver it, " To see me thus Aurry'd ;"—then told her the case, “ For David ne'er knew me, 'till brought me by And fighed pill her ladyship laugh'd in her face, Merit,
“ Mighty civil indeed !"2". Come, a truce, fays " And yet to convince you-nay, Madam, no hifles
my lady, " Good-manners at least--fuch behaviour as this " A truce with complaints, and perhaps
may (For mention but Merit, and Envy flies out "P'U Mew you a girl that. Here, Martin ! go With a hiss and a yell that would filence a rout.
tell But Fortune went on)". To convince you, I say, “ But she's gone to undress; by sand-by is as well “ That I honour your scheme, I'll about it to day; " P'll thew you a light that you'll fancy uncommon, “ The nian Mall be marry'd, so pray now be easy, “ Wit, beauty, and goodness, all met in a woman ; “ And Garrick for once shali do something to please " A heart to no folly or mischief inclin'd
“ A body all grace, and all sweetness a mind." So saying, she rattled her wheel out of sight, “ O, pray let me. see her,” says Fortune, and While Envy walk'd after, and grinn'd with delight. smild, It seems 'twas a trick that she long had been brewing, “ Do but give her to me, and I'U make her my To marry poor David, and fo be his ruin:
child For Slander had told her the creature lov'd pelf, « But who, my dear, who ?-for you have not told And car'd not a fig for a soul but himself;
yet”From thence she was sure, had the Devil a daughter, “ Who indeed, says my lady, if not Violette ? He'd snap at the girl, so 'twas Fortune that brought The words were scarce spoke when she enter'd the
her: And then should her temper be fullen or haughty, A blush at the stranger still heighten'd her bloom ; Her fesh too be frail, and incline to be naughty, So humble her looks were, so mild was her air, 'Twould fret the poor fellow so out of his reason, That Fortune, astonish'd, sat mute in her chair. That Barry and Quin would set fashions next season. My lady rose up, and with countenance bland,
But Fortune, who saw what the Fury design'd, “ This is Fortune, my dear," and presented her Resolv'd to get David a wife to his mind:
hand : Yet afraid of herself in a matter so nice,
The goddess embrac'd her, and call'd her her own, She visited Prudence, and begg'd her advice. And, compliments over, her errand made known. The nymph shook her head when the business the But how the sweet girl colour'd, futter'd, and knew,
trembled, And said that her female acquaintance were few; How oft she said no, and how ill the diffembled ; That excepting Miss R***-O, yes, there was one, Or how little David rejoic'd at the news, A friend of that lady's, the visited none;
And swore, from all others, 'twas her he would chuse;