Grace said in form, which sceptics must agree,
When they are told that grace was said by me;
The servants gone to break the scurvy jest
On the proud landlord, and his threadbare guest;
'The King' gone round, my lady too withdrawn;
My lord, in usual taste, began to yawn,
And, lolling backward in his elbow-chair,
With an insipid kind of stupid stare,
Picking his teeth, twirling his seals about—
Churchill, you have a poem coming out: 10
You've my best wishes; but I really fear
Your Muse, in general, is too severe;
Her spirit seems her interest to oppose,
And where she makes one friend, makes twenty foes.
C. Your lordship's fears are just; I feel their force,
But only feel it as a thing of course.
The man whose hardy spirit shall engage
To lash, the vices of a guilty age,
At his first setting forward ought to know
That every rogue he meets must be his foe; 20
That the rude breath of satire will provoke
Many who feel, and more who fear the stroke.
But shall the partial rage of selfish men
From stubborn Justice wrench the righteous pen?
Or shall I not my settled course pursue,
Because my foes are foes to Virtue too?
L. What is this boasted Virtue, taught in schools,
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? 30
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? 40
Believe it not, the name is in disgrace;
Virtue and Temple now are out of place.
Quit then this meteor, whose delusive ray
Prom wealth and honour leads thee far astray.
True virtue means—let Reason use her eyes—
Nothing with fools, and interest with the wise.
Wouldst thou be great, her patronage disclaim,
Nor madly triumph in so mean a name:
Let nobler wreaths thy happy brows adorn,
And leave to Virtue poverty and scorn. 50
Let Prudence be thy guide; who doth not know
How seldom Prudence can with Virtue go?
To be successful try thy utmost force,
And Virtue follows as a thing of course.
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: 60
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
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;
Let their base services in courts strike root,
And in the season bring forth golden fruit.
I envy not; let those who have the will,
And, with so little spirit, so much skill,
With such vile instruments their fortunes carve;
Rogues may grow fat, an honest man dares starve.[183] 80
L. These stale conceits thrown off, let us advance
For once to real life, and quit romance.
Starve! pretty talking! but I fain would view
That man, that honest man, would do it too.
Hence to yon mountain which outbraves the sky,
And dart from pole to pole thy strengthen'd eye,
Through all that space you shall not view one man,
Not one, who dares to act on such a plan.
Cowards in calms will say, what in a storm
The brave will tremble at, and not perform. 90
Thine be the proof, and, spite of all you've said,
You'd give your honour for a crust of bread.
C. What proof might do, what hunger might effect,
What famish'd Nature, looking with neglect
On all she once held dear; what fear, at strife
With fainting virtue for the means of life,
Might make this coward flesh, in love with breath,
Shuddering at pain, and shrinking back from death,
In treason to my soul, descend to boar,
Trusting to fate, I neither know nor care. 100
Once,—at this hour those wounds afresh I feel,
Which, nor prosperity, nor time, can heal;
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—
Once, awed by Fortune's most oppressive frown,
By legal rapine to the earth bow'd clown,
My credit at last gasp, my state undone,
Trembling to meet the shock I could not shun, 110
Virtue gave ground, and blank despair prevail'd;
Sinking beneath the storm, my spirits fail'd
Like Peter's faith, till one, a friend indeed—
May all distress find such in time of need!—
One kind good man, in act, in word, in thought,
By Virtue guided, and by Wisdom taught,
Image of Him whom Christians should adore,
Stretch'd forth his hand, and brought me safe to shore.[184]
Since, by good fortune into notice raised,
And for some little merit largely praised, 120
Indulged in swerving from prudential rules,
Hated by rogues, and not beloved by fools;
Placed above want, shall abject thirst of wealth,
So fiercely war 'gainst my soul's dearest health,
That, as a boon, I should base shackles crave,
And, born to freedom, make myself a slave?
That I should in the train of those appear,
Whom Honour cannot love, nor Manhood fear?
That I no longer skulk from street to street,
Afraid lest duns assail, and bailiffs meet; 130
That I from place to place this carcase bear;
Walk forth at large, and wander free as air;
That I no longer dread the awkward friend.
Whose very obligations must offend;
Nor, all too froward, with impatience burn
At suffering favours which I can't return;
That, from dependence and from pride secure,
I am not placed so high to scorn the poor,
Nor yet so low that I my lord should fear,
Or hesitate to give him sneer for sneer; 140
That, whilst sage Prudence my pursuits confirms,
I can enjoy the world on equal terms;
That, kind to others, to myself most true,
Feeling no want, I comfort those who do,
And, with the will, have power to aid distress:
These, and what other blessings I possess,
From the indulgence of the public rise,
All private patronage my soul defies.
By candour more inclined to save, than damn,
A generous Public made me what I am. 150
All that I have, they gave; just Memory bears
The grateful stamp, and what I am is theirs.
L. To feign a red-hot zeal for Freedom's cause,
To mouth aloud for liberties and laws,
For public good to bellow all abroad,
Serves well the purposes of private fraud.
Prudence, by public good intends her own;
If you mean otherwise, you stand alone.
What do we mean by country and by court?
What is it to oppose? what to support? 160
Mere words of course; and what is more absurd
Than to pay homage to an empty word?
Majors and minors differ but in name;
Patriots and ministers are much the same;
The only difference, after all their rout,
Is, that the one is in, the other out.
Explore the dark recesses of the mind,
In the soul's honest volume read mankind,
And own, in wise and simple, great and small,
The same grand leading principle in all. 170
Whate'er we talk of wisdom to the wise,
Of goodness to the good, of public ties
Which to our country link, of private bands
Which claim most dear attention at our hands;
For parent and for child, for wife and friend,
Our first great mover, and our last great end
Is one, and, by whatever name we call
The ruling tyrant, Self is all in all.
This, which unwilling Faction shall admit,
Guided in different ways a Bute and Pitt; 180
Made tyrants break, made kings observe the law;
And gave the world a Stuart and Nassau.
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? 190
Fond man, believe it not; experience 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; 210
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. 220
'Tis not the babbling of a busy world,
Where praise and censure are at random hurl'd,
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; 230
And like the dread handwriting 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 heartfelt groan,
And hates that form she knows to be her own.
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. 240
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, 250
Exert that little strength which Nature gave,
And boldly stem, or perish in the wave?
L. When I look backward for some fifty years,
And see protesting patriots turn'd to peers;
Hear men, most loose, for decency declaim,
And talk of character, without a name;
See infidels assert the cause of God,
And meek divines wield Persecution's rod;
See men transferred to brutes, and brutes to men;
See Whitehead take a place, Ralph[185] change his pen; 260
I mock the zeal, and deem the men in sport,
Who rail at ministers, and curse a court.
Thee, haughty as thou art, and proud in rhyme,
Shall some preferment, offer'd at a time
When Virtue sleeps, some sacrifice to Pride,
Or some fair victim, move to change thy side.
Thee shall these eyes behold, to health restored,
Using, as Prudence bids, bold Satire's sword,
Galling thy present friends, and praising those
Whom now thy frenzy holds thy greatest foes. 270
C. May I (can worse disgrace on manhood fall?)
Be born a Whitehead,[186] 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 I, through abject fear, 280
Betray my friend; may to succeeding times,
Engraved on plates of adamant, my crimes
Stand blazing forth, whilst, mark'd with envious blot,
Each little act of virtue is forgot;
Of all those evils which, to stamp men cursed,
Hell keeps in store for vengeance, may the worst
Light on my head; and in my day of woe,
To make the cup of bitterness o'erflow,
May I be scorn'd by every man of worth,
Wander, like Cain, a vagabond on earth; 200
Bearing about a hell in my own mind,
Or be to Scotland for my life confined;
If I am one among the many known
Whom Shelburne[187] fled, and Calcraft[188] blush'd to own.
L. Do you reflect what men you make your foes?
C. I do, and that's the reason I oppose.
Friends I have made, whom Envy must commend,
But not one foe whom I would wish a friend.
What if ten thousand Butes and Hollands bawl?
One Wilkes had made a large amends for all. 300
'Tis not the title, whether handed down
From age to age, or flowing from the crown
In copious streams, on recent men, who came
From stems unknown, and sires without a name:
Tis not the star which our great Edward gave
To mark the virtuous, and reward the brave,
Blazing without, whilst a base heart within
Is rotten to the core with filth and sin;
'Tis not the tinsel grandeur, taught to wait,
At Custom's call, to mark a fool of state 310
From fools of lesser note, that soul can awe,
Whose pride is reason, whose defence is law.

L. Suppose, (a thing scarce possible in art,
Were it thy cue to play a common part)
Suppose thy writings so well fenced in law,
That Norton cannot find nor make a flaw—
Hast thou not heard, that 'mongst our ancient tribes,
By party warp'd, or lull'd asleep by bribes,
Or trembling at the ruffian hand of Force,
Law hath suspended stood, or changed its course? 320
Art thou assured, that, for destruction ripe,
Thou may'st not smart beneath the self-same gripe?
What sanction hast thou, frantic in thy rhymes,
Thy life, thy freedom to secure?

G. The Times.
'Tis not on law, a system great and good,
By wisdom penn'd, and bought by noblest blood,
My faith relies; by wicked men and vain,
Law, once abused, may be abused again.
No; on our great Lawgiver I depend,
Who knows and guides her to her proper end; 330
Whose royalty of nature blazes out
So fierce, 'twere sin to entertain a doubt.
Did tyrant Stuarts now the law dispense,
(Bless'd be the hour and hand which sent them hence!)
For something, or for nothing, for a word
Or thought, I might be doom'd to death, unheard.
Life we might all resign to lawless power,
Nor think it worth the purchase of an hour;
But Envy ne'er shall fix so foul a stain
On the fair annals of a Brunswick's reign. 340
If, slave to party, to revenge, or pride;
If, by frail human error drawn aside,
I break the law, strict rigour let her wear;
'Tis hers to punish, and 'tis mine to bear;
Nor, by the voice of Justice doom'd to death
Would I ask mercy with my latest breath:
But, anxious only for my country's good,
In which my king's, of course, is understood;
Form'd on a plan with some few patriot friends,
Whilst by just means I aim at noblest ends, 350
My spirits cannot sink; though from the tomb
Stern Jeffries should be placed in Mansfield's room;
Though he should bring, his base designs to aid,
Some black attorney, for his purpose made,
And shove, whilst Decency and Law retreat,
The modest Norton from his maiden seat;
Though both, in ill confederates, should agree,
In damned league, to torture law and me,
Whilst George is king, I cannot fear endure;
Not to be guilty, is to be secure. 360
But when, in after-times, (be far removed
That day!) our monarch, glorious and beloved,
Sleeps with his fathers, should imperious Fate,
In vengeance, with fresh Stuarts curse our state;
Should they, o'erleaping every fence of law,
Butcher the brave to keep tame fools in awe;
Should they, by brutal and oppressive force,
Divert sweet Justice from her even course;
Should they, of every other means bereft,
Make my right hand a witness 'gainst my left; 370
Should they, abroad by inquisitions taught,
Search out my soul, and damn me for a thought;
Still would I keep my course, still speak, still write,
Till Death had plunged me in the shades of night.
Thou God of truth, thou great, all-searching eye,
To whom our thoughts, our spirits, open lie!
Grant me thy strength, and in that needful hour,
(Should it e'er come) when Law submits to Power,
With firm resolve my steady bosom steel,
Bravely to suffer, though I deeply feel. 380
Let me, as hitherto, still draw my breath,
In love with life, but not in fear of death;
And if Oppression brings me to the grave,
And marks me dead, she ne'er shall mark a slave.
Let no unworthy marks of grief be heard,
No wild laments, not one unseemly word;
Let sober triumphs wait upon my bier;
I won't forgive that friend who drops one tear.
Whether he's ravish'd in life's early morn,
Or in old age drops like an ear of corn, 390
Full ripe he falls, on Nature's noblest plan,
Who lives to Reason, and who dies a Man.

* * * * *

Footnotes:

[182] 'The Conference:' this poem was published by our author in
November 1763, soon after his elopement with Miss Carr.

[183] 'Dares starve:' this will suggest Burns's noble line, 'We daur be
poor, for a' that.'

[184] 'Shore:' Churchill, sunk in deep debt, was delivered from the
impending horrors of a jail, by Dr Peirson Lloyd, second master of
Westminster school.

[185] 'Ralph:' Mr James Ralph a hack author. See 'The Dunciad,' and
Franklin's 'Autobiography.' He was hired by Pelham to abuse Sir R.
Walpole, whom he had supported before.

[186] 'Whitehead:' author of 'Manners, a Satire.'

[187] 'Shelburne:' William Petty, Earl of Shelburne, afterwards
Marquis of Lansdowne.

[188] 'Calcraft:' John Calcraft, Esq., M.P., army agent and
contractor.

est subjects, for the best of kings, 230
Must not be measured now by what men think,
Or say, or do;—by what they eat and drink,
Where, and with whom, that question's to be tried,
And statesmen are the judges to decide;
No juries call'd, or, if call'd, kept in awe;
They, facts confess'd, in themselves vest the law.
Each dish at Wildman's of sedition smacks;
Blasphemy may be gospel at Almacks.'[283]
Peace, good Discretion! peace—thy fears are vain;
Ne'er will I herd with Wildman's factious train; 240
Never the vengeance of the great incur,
Nor, without might, against the mighty stir.
If, from long proof, my temper you distrust,
Weigh my profession, to my gown be just;
Dost thou one parson know so void of grace
To pay his court to patrons out of place?
If still you doubt (though scarce a doubt remains)
Search through my alter'd heart, and try my reins;
There, searching, find, nor deem me now in sport,
A convert made by Sandwich to the court. 250
Let madmen follow error to the end,
I, of mistakes convinced, and proud to mend,
Strive to act better, being better taught,
Nor blush to own that change which Reason wrought:
For such a change as this, must Justice speak;
My heart was honest, but my head was weak.
Bigot to no one man, or set of men,
Without one selfish view, I drew my pen;
My country ask'd, or seem'd to ask, my aid,
Obedient to that call, I left off trade; 260
A side I chose, and on that side was strong,
Till time hath fairly proved me in the wrong:
Convinced, I change, (can any man do more?)
And have not greater patriots changed before?
Changed, I at once, (can any man do less?)
Without a single blush, that change confess;
Confess it with a manly kind of pride,
And quit the losing for the winning side,
Granting, whilst virtuous Sandwich holds the rein,
What Bute for ages might have sought in vain. 270
Hail, Sandwich!—nor shall Wilkes resentment show,
Hearing the praises of so brave a foe—
Hail, Sandwich!—nor, through pride, shalt thou refuse
The grateful tribute of so mean a Muse—
Sandwich, all hail!—when Bute with foreign hand,
Grown wanton with ambition, scourged the land;
When Scots, or slaves to Scotsmen, steer'd the helm;
When peace, inglorious peace, disgraced the realm,
Distrust, and general discontent prevail'd;
But when, (he best knows why) his spirits fail'd; 280
When, with a sudden panic struck, he fled,
Sneak'd out of power, and hid his recreant head;
When, like a Mars, (Fear order'd to retreat)
We saw thee nimbly vault into his seat,
Into the seat of power, at one bold leap,
A perfect connoisseur in statesmanship;
When, like another Machiavel, we saw
Thy fingers twisting, and untwisting law,
Straining, where godlike Reason bade, and where
She warranted thy mercy, pleased to spare; 290
Saw thee resolved, and fix'd (come what, come might)
To do thy God, thy king, thy country right;
All things were changed, suspense remain'd no more,
Certainty reign'd where Doubt had reign'd before:
All felt thy virtues, and all knew their use,
What virtues such as thine must needs produce.
Thy foes (for Honour ever meets with foes)
Too mean to praise, too fearful to oppose,
In sullen silence sit; thy friends (some few,
Who, friends to thee, are friends to Honour too) 300
Plaud thy brave bearing, and the Commonweal
Expects her safety from thy stubborn zeal.
A place amongst the rest the Muses claim,
And bring this freewill-offering to thy fame;
To prove their virtue, make thy virtues known,
And, holding up thy fame, secure their own.
From his youth upwards to the present day,
When vices, more than years, have mark'd him gray;
When riotous Excess, with wasteful hand,
Shakes life's frail glass, and hastes each ebbing sand, 310
Unmindful from what stock he drew his birth,
Untainted with one deed of real worth,
Lothario, holding honour at no price,
Folly to folly added, vice to vice,
Wrought sin with greediness, and sought for shame
With greater zeal than good men seek for fame.
Where (Reason left without the least defence)
Laughter was mirth, obscenity was sense:
Where Impudence made Decency submit;
Where noise was humour, and where whim was wit; 320
Where rude, untemper'd license had the merit
Of liberty, and lunacy was spirit;
Where the best things were ever held the worst,
Lothario was, with justice, always first.
To whip a top, to knuckle down at taw,
To swing upon a gate, to ride a straw,
To play at push-pin with dull brother peers,
To belch out catches in a porter's ears,
To reign the monarch of a midnight cell,
To be the gaping chairman's oracle; 330
Whilst, in most blessed union, rogue and whore
Clap hands, huzza, and hiccup out, 'Encore;'
Whilst gray Authority, who slumbers there
In robes of watchman's fur, gives up his chair;
With midnight howl to bay the affrighted moon,
To walk with torches through the streets at noon;
To force plain Nature from her usual way,
Each night a vigil, and a blank each day;
To match for speed one feather 'gainst another,
To make one leg run races with his brother; 340
'Gainst all the rest to take the northern wind,
Bute to ride first, and he to ride behind;
To coin newfangled wagers, and to lay 'em,
Laying to lose, and losing not to pay 'em;
Lothario, on that stock which Nature gives,
Without a rival stands, though March yet lives.
When Folly, (at that name, in duty bound,
Let subject myriads kneel, and kiss the ground,
Whilst they who, in the presence, upright stand,
Are held as rebels through the loyal land) 350
Queen every where, but most a queen in courts,
Sent forth her heralds, and proclaim'd her sports;
Bade fool with fool on her behalf engage,
And prove her right to reign from age to age,
Lothario, great above the common size,
With all engaged, and won from all the prize;
Her cap he wears, which from his youth he wore,
And every day deserves it more and more.
Nor in such limits rests his soul confined;
Folly may share but can't engross his mind; 360
Vice, bold substantial Vice, puts in her claim,
And stamps him perfect in the books of Shame.
Observe his follies well, and you would swear
Folly had been his first, his only care;
Observe his vices, you'll that oath disown,
And swear that he was born for vice alone.
Is the soft nature of some hapless maid,
Fond, easy, full of faith, to be betray'd?
Must she, to virtue lost, be lost to fame,
And he who wrought her guilt declare her shame? 370
Is some brave friend, who, men but little known,
Deems every heart as honest as his own,
And, free himself, in others fears no guile,
To be ensnared, and ruin'd with a smile?
Is Law to be perverted from her course?
Is abject fraud to league with brutal force?
Is Freedom to be crush'd, and every son
Who dares maintain her cause, to be undone?
Is base Corruption, creeping through the land,
To plan, and work her ruin, underhand, 380
With regular approaches, sure, though slow?
Or must she perish by a single blow?
Are kings, who trust to servants, and depend
In servants (fond, vain thought!) to find a friend,
To be abused, and made to draw their breath
In darkness thicker than the shades of death?
Is God's most holy name to be profaned,
His word rejected, and his laws arraign'd,
His servants scorn'd, as men who idly dream'd,
His service laugh'd at, and his Son blasphemed? 390
Are debauchees in morals to preside?
Is Faith to take an Atheist for her guide?
Is Science by a blockhead to be led?
Are States to totter on a drunkard's head?
To answer all these purposes, and more,
More black than ever villain plann'd before,
Search earth, search hell, the Devil cannot find
An agent like Lothario to his mind.
Is this nobility, which, sprung from kings,
Was meant to swell the power from whence it springs; 400
Is this the glorious produce, this the fruit,
Which Nature hoped for from so rich a root?
Were there but two, (search all the world around)
Were there but two such nobles to be found,
The very name would sink into a term
Of scorn, and man would rather be a worm
Than be a lord: but Nature, full of grace,
Nor meaning birth and titles to be base,
Made only one, and having made him, swore,
In m

* * * * *

Footnotes:

[276] 'Garrick abroad:' Garrick, in September 1763, in order to make his value more appreciated after his return, resolved to visit the continent.

[277] 'Langhorne:' John Langhorne, D.D., the translator of Plutarch.

[278] 'France:' Wilkes had fled to France to escape the prosecutions
entered against him.

[279] 'Sneaking peer:' John Boyle, Earl of Cork and Orrery, was the
author of severe 'Observations on the Life of Swift.'

[280] 'Bishop:' Bishop Warburton.

[281] 'Hayter:' Dr Thomas Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and next of London, died prematurely.

[282] 'Wildman's:' a tavern in Albemarle Street.

[283] 'Almacks:' Old Almacks, a noted Tory club-house in Pall Mall.

[284] 'Youth was insolent:' the younger members of the University were unanimous in favour of Lord Hardwicke, and incurred the censure of their superiors.

[285] 'Burton:' Dr John Burton, head master of Winchester school.

[286] 'Smith:' Dr Smith, master of Trinity College, Cambridge, a
mechanical and musical genius.

[287] 'Sumner:' the Rev. Dr Humphrey Sumner, Vice Chancellor of the
University of Cambridge.

[288] 'Long:' Roger Long, D.D., professor of Astronomy, Cambridge.

[289] 'Sackville:' Sir George, who behaved scandalously at the battle of Minden.

[290] 'Brother Litchfield:' the last Earl of Litchfield succeeded the Earl of Westmoreland as Chancellor of the University of Oxford, in 1762, through Lord Bute's influence.

[291] 'Phillips:' Sir John Phillips, a barrister and active member of the House of Commons, a defender of the rebellion in 1745.

[292] 'Medenham:' or as it was commonly called, Mednam Abbey, was a very large house on the banks of the Thames, near Marlow, in Bucks, where infamous doings went on under the auspices of Sir F. Dashwood, Lord Sandwich, and others.

[293] 'King:' Dr William King, LL.D., Principal of St Mary's Hall.

[294] 'Browne:' Dr William Browne, Lord Litchfield's Vice-Chancellor
of the University of Oxford from 1759 to 1769.

[295] 'Heberden:' Dr William Heberden, the celebrated physician, the
first who used the wet-sheet.

[296] 'Blackstone:' Dr Blackstone, afterwards Sir William Blackstone,
Solicitor-General, and a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas.

detractors from his genius—Samuel Johnson and Christopher North. The first pronounced him "a prolific blockhead," "a huge and fertile crab-tree;" the second has wielded the knout against his back with peculiar gusto and emphasis, in a paper on satire and satirists, published in Blackwood for 1828. Had Churchill been alive, he could have easily "retorted scorn"—set a "Christophero" over against the portrait of "Pomposo:" the result had been, as always in such cases, a drawn battle; and damage would have accrued, not to the special literateurs, but to the general literary character. Prejudice or private pique always lurks at the bottom of such reckless assaults, and all men in the long run feel so. In Johnson's case, the causa belli was unquestionably political difference; and in Christopher North's it was the love of Scotland which so warmly glowed in his bosom, and which created a glow of hatred no less warm against Scotland's ablest, fiercest, and most inveterate poetical foe.

Churchill's poetry only requires to be better known to be highly appreciated for its masculine and thoroughly English qualities. In taking our leave of him, we are again haunted by the signal resemblance he bears, both in mental characteristics and in history, to Byron. Both were powerful in satire, and still more so in purely poetic composition. Both were irregular in life, and unfortunate in marriage. Both were distinguished by fitful generosity, and careless tenderness. Both obtained at once, and during all their career maintained, a pre-eminence in popularity over all their contemporaries. Both were severely handled by reviewers, and underrated by rivals. Both assumed an attitude of defiance to the world, and stood ostentatiously at bay. Both mingled largely in the politics of their day, and both took the liberal side. Both felt and expressed keen remorse for their errors, and purposed and in part began reformation. Both died at an untimely age by fever, and in a foreign land. The dust of both, not admitted into Westminster Abbey, nevertheless reposes in their native soil, and attracts daily visitors, who lean, and weep, and wonder over it—partly in sympathy with their fate—partly in pity for their errors—and partly in admiration of their genius.

* * * * *

NOTE.—We have not alluded to various anecdotes told about Churchill's journey to Wales, about his setting up as a cider merchant, &c., because some of them appear extremely apocryphal. The author of an article on him in the Edinburgh Review for January 1845 asserts that he was rejected from Oxford because he had already been married. But, if so, why was he admitted to Cambridge? Besides, the writer adduces no proof of his assertion. The paper, otherwise, is worthy of its author and of the poet.

* * * * *

CONTENTS.

THE ROSCIAD THE APOLOGY NIGHT THE PROPHECY OF FAMINE AN EPISTLE TO WILLIAM HOGARTH THE DUELLIST GOTHAM THE AUTHOR THE CONFERENCE THE GHOST THE CANDIDATE THE FAREWELL THE TIMES INDEPENDENCE THE JOURNEY DEDICATION TO CHURCHILL'S SERMONS LINES WRITTEN IN WINDSOR PARK

* * * * *

THE ROSCIAD.[1]

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius[2] deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condes

* * * * *

Footnotes:

[1] 'The Rosciad:' for occasion, &c., see Life.

[2] 'Roscius:' Quintus Roscius, a native of Gaul, and the most
celebrated comedian of antiquity. [3] 'Clive:' Robert Lord Clive. See
Macaulay's paper on him.

[4] 'Shuter:' Edward Shuter, a comic actor, who, after various
theatrical vicissitudes, died a zealous methodist and disciple of
George Whitefield, in 1776.

[5] 'Yates:' Richard Yates, another low actor of the period.

[6] 'Foote:' Samuel Foote, the once well-known farcical writer, (now chiefly remembered from Boswell's Life of Johnson), opened the Old House in the Haymarket, and, in order to overrule the opposition of the magistrates, announced his entertainments as 'Mr Foote's giving tea to his friends.'

[7] 'Wilkinson:' Wilkinson, the shadow of Foote, was the proprietor of Sadler's Wells Theatre.

[8] 'Palmer:' John Palmer, a favourite actor in genteel comedy, who
married Miss Pritchard, daughter of the celebrated actress of that
name.

[9] 'Barry:' Spranger Barry, an actor of first-rate eminence and tall
of size. Barry was a competitor of Garrick. Every one remembers the
lines in a poem comparing the two—

'To Barry we give loud applause;
To Garrick only tears.'

[10] 'Coan:' John Coan, a dwarf, showed himself, like another Tom
Thumb, for sixpence a-head.

[11] 'Ackman:' Ackman ranked as one of the lowest comic actors of his
time.

[12] 'Sterne:' the celebrated Laurence Sterne.

[13] 'Franklin:' Dr Thomas Franklin, the translator of Sophocles, Phalaris, and Lucian, and the author of a volume of sermons; all forgotten.

[14] 'Colman:' Colman, the elder, translator of Terence, and author of many clever comedies.

[15] 'Murphy:' Arthur Murphy, Esq., a native of Ireland. See Boswell's Life of Johnson. Churchill hated Murphy on account of his politics. He was in the pay of the Court.

[16] 'Northern race:' Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough, and Earl Rosslyn, a patron of Murphy, and a bitter enemy of Wilkes.

[17] 'Proteus Hill:' Sir John Hill, a celebrated character of that day, of incredible industry and versatility, a botanist, apothecary, translator, actor, dramatic author, natural historian, multitudinous compiler, libeller, and, intus et in cute, a quack and coxcomb. See Boswell's account of the interview between the King and Dr Johnson, for a somewhat modified estimate of Hill.

[18] 'Woodward:' Woodward the comedian had a paper war with Hill.

[19] 'Fools:' the person here meant was a Mr Fitzpatrick, a bitter
enemy of Garrick's, and who originated riots in the theatre on the
subject of half-price.

[20] 'A youth:' Robert Lloyd, the friend and imitator of Churchill—an
ingenious but improvident person, who died of grief at his friend's
death, in 1764.

[21] 'Foster:' Sir Michael Foster, one of the puisne judges of the
Court of King's Bench.

[22] 'Ode:' alluding to Mason's Ode to Memory.

[23] 'Havard:' William Havard, an amiable man, but mediocre actor, of
the period.

[24] 'Davies:' Thomas Davies, a bookseller, actor, and author. See
Boswell.

[25] 'Holland:' Holland, a pupil and imitator of Mr Garrick.

[26] 'King:' Thomas King, a voluble and pert but clever actor.

[27] 'Yates:' Yates had a habit of repeating his words twice or thrice
over, such as 'Hark you, hark you.'

[28] 'Tom Errand:' Tom Errand and Clincher, two well-known dramatic
characters—a Clown and a coxcomb.

[29] 'Woodward:' Henry Woodward, comic actor of much power of face.

[30] 'Kitely:' Kitely, in Johnson's 'Every Man in his Humour,' was a favourite character of Garrick's.

[31] 'Obrien:' a small actor; originally a fencing-master.

[32] 'Jackson:' afterwards manager of the Royal Theatre, Edinburgh.

[33] 'Love:' James Love, an actor and dramatic writer, who could play
nothing well but Falstaff.

[34] 'Dominic:' Dryden's 'Spanish Friar.' [35] 'Boniface:' The jovial
landlord in Farquhar's 'Beaux Stratagem.'

[36] 'Austin,' &c.: all small and forgotten actors.

[37] 'Moody:' Moody excelled in Irish characters.

[38] 'Bayes:' alluding to the summer theatre in the Haymarket, where Murphy's plays were got up and acted under the joint management of himself and Mr Foote.

[39] 'Elliot:' a female actress of great merit.

[40] 'Ledgers:' the Public Ledger, a newspaper.

[41] 'Vaughan:' Thomas Vaughan, a friend of Murphy.

[42] 'Little factions:' Murphy had called Churchill and his friends
'The Little Faction.'

[43] 'Militia:' the Westminster militia and the city of London trained
bands and lumber troopers, afforded much amusement.

[44] 'Sparks:' Luke Sparks, an actor of the time, rather hard in his
manner.

[45] 'Smith:' Called Gentleman Smith,' an actor in genteel comedy,
corpulent in person.

[46] 'Ross:' a Scotchman, dissipated in his habits.

[47] 'Statira:' Ross's Statira was Mrs Palmer, the daughter of Mrs Pritchard.

[48] 'Macklin:' Charles Macklin, alias M'Laughlin, good in such characters as Shylock, &c.; no tragedian; a lecturer on elocution; coarse in features.

[49] 'Sheridan:' father of Richard Brinsley. See Boswell and Moore.

[50] 'Islington:' the new river.

[51] 'Rolt:' a drudge to the booksellers, who plagiarised Akenside's
'Pleasures of Imagination,' and was a coadjutor with Christopher
Smart in the 'Universal Visitor.' See Boswell.

[52] 'Lun:' Mr John Rich, the manager of Covent Garden and Lincoln's
Inn Fields Theatre, called Lun for his performance of Harlequin; famous
for pantomimes.

[53] 'Clive:' Catherine Clive, a celebrated comic actress, of very diversified powers; 'a better romp' than Jonson 'ever saw in nature.'

[54] 'Pope:' a pleasing protÉgÉ of Mrs Clive.

[55] 'Vincent:' Mrs Vincent, a tolerable actress and a fine singer.

[56] 'Arne:' a fine musician, but no writer.

[57] 'Brent:' a female scholar of Arne's, very popular as Polly in the 'Beggars Opera.'

[58] 'Beard and Vincent:' famous singers.

[59] 'Yates:' Anna Maria Yates, the wife of Richard Yates, mentioned in
a preceding note.

[60] 'Hart:' Mrs Hart, a demirep, married to one Reddish, who, after
her death, wedded Mrs Canning, mother of the great statesman.

[61] 'Bride:' another beautiful, but disreputable actress.

[62] 'Stale flower,' &c.: an unmanly allusion to Mrs Palmer, the daughter of Mrs Pritchard, who was greatly inferior to her mother.

[63] 'Cibber:' sister to Arne, and wife to the once notorious Theophilus Cibber, the son of the hero of the 'Dunciad.' She was no better in character than many actresses of that day; but sang so plaintively, that a bishop who heard her once cried out, 'Woman, thy sins be forgiven thee!'

[64] 'Pritchard:' according to Johnson, 'in private a vulgar idiot, but who, on the stage, seemed to become inspired with gentility and understanding.'

[65] 'Pantomime:' the 'Mourning Bride.'

[66] 'Thane:' Macbeth.

[67] 'Juletta:' a witty maid-servant in the play of 'The Pilgrim.'

[68] The 'Jealous Wife:' the 'Jealous Wife,' by Colman, was taken from
the story of Lady Bellaston, in 'Tom Jones.'

[69] 'Mossop:' Henry Mossop, a powerful, fiery, but irregular actor,
very unfortunate in life.

[70] 'Right-hand:' Mossop practised the 'tea-pot attitude.'

[71] 'Barry:' Spranger Barry, mentioned above as Garrick's great rival. He acted in Covent Garden.

[72] 'Quin:' the friend of Thomson, (see 'Castle of Indolence'),
instructor in reading of George III., famous for indolence, wit, good
nature, and corpulence.

[73] 'Betterton:' the great actor of the seventeenth century, whose
funeral and character are described in the 'Tatler.' Booth was his
successor and copy.

[74] 'Lined:' supported.

[75] 'Rowe.' Andromache, in the tragedy of the 'Distressed Mother,' by Ambrose Philips, and Lothario, in the 'Fair Penitent,' by Rowe.

[76] 'Brute:' Sir John Brute, in Vanbrugh's 'Provoked Wife.'

[77] 'Dorax:' a soldier in Dryden's 'Don Sebastian.'

[78] 'Sheridan:' see a previous note.

[79] 'Nailor:' pugilist.

[80] 'Hubert:' in King John.

[81] 'Garrick:' see Boswell and Murphy's life of that great actor.

[82] 'Serjeant Kite:' the recruiting serjeant in Farquhar's 'Recruiting Officer.'