CONTENTS.

PART I.

OF End and of Satire. The Love of

Glory and Fear of Shame universal, ✯ 29. This

Paffion, implanted in Man as a Spur to Virtue, is

generally perverted, 41. And thus becomes the

Occafion of the greatest Follies, Vices, and Miferies,

61. It is the Work of Satire to rectify this Paf-

fion, to reduce it to its proper Channel, and to con-

vert it into an Incentive to Wisdom and Virtue, 89.

Hence it appears, that Satire may influence those

who defy all Laws Human and Divine, 99. An

Objection anfwered, 131.

Rules for the Conduct of Satire. Juftice and Truth
its chief and effential Property, 169. Prudence in
the Application of Wit and Ridicule, whofe Province
is, not to explore unknown, but to enforce known
Truths, 191. Proper Subjects of Satire are the
Manners of prefent Times, 239. Decency of
Expreffion recommended, 255.
The different
Methods in which Folly and Vice ought to be chafti-
fed, 269. The Variety of Style and Manner
which thefe two Subjects require, 277.
Praife of Virtue may be admitted with Propriety,
315. Caution with regard to Panegyrick, 329.
The Dignity of true Satire,

341.

The

The Hiftory of Satire, Roman Satirifts, Lucilius, Horace, Perfius, Juvenal, 357, etc. Caufes of the Decay of Literature, particularly of Satire, 389. Revival of Satire, 401. Erafmus one of its principal Reftorers, 405. Donne, 411. The Abuse of Satire in England, during the licentious Reign of Charles II. 415. Dryden, 429. The true Ends of Satire purfued by Boileau in France, 439; and by Mr Pope in England,

445.

F

PART I

ATE gave the Word; the cruel arrow fped; And POPE lies number'd with the mighty Dead! Refign'd he fell; fuperior to the dart,

That quench'd its rage in YOUR's and BRITAIN'S Heart:

You mourn: but BRITAIN, lull'd in reft profound, (Unconscious Britain!) flumbers o'er her wound. 6 Exulting Dulness ey'd the setting Light,

And flapp'd her wing, impatient for the Night:
Rouz'd at the fignal, Guilt collects her train,
And counts the Triumphs of her growing Reign: 10
With inextinguishable rage they burn;

And Snake-hung ENVY hiffes o'er his Urn :
Th' envenom'd Monsters spit their deadly foam,
To blaft the Laurel that furrounds his Tomb.

But You, OWARBURTON! whofe eye refin❜d 15 Can fee the greatness of an honest mind ; Can fee each Virtue and each Grace unite, And taste the Raptures of a pure Delight;

You vifit oft his awful Page with Care,

And view that bright Affemblage treasur'd there; 20
You trace the Chain that links his deep Design,
And pour new Luftre on the glowing Line.
Yet deign to hear the efforts of a Muse,
Whofe eye, not wing, his ardent flight pursues;
Intent from this great Archetype to draw
SATIRE'S bright Form, and fix her equal Law;
Pleas'd if from hence th' unlearn'd may comprehend,
And rev'rence HIS and SATIRE's gen'rous End.

In ev'ry Breast there burns an active flame,
The Love of Glory, or the Dread of Shame:
The Paffion ONE, tho' various it appear,
As brighten'd into Hope, or dimm'd by Fear.
The lifping Infant, and the hoary Sire,

25

30

And Youth and Manhood feel the heart-born fire:
The Charms of Praife the Coy, the Modeft wooe, 35
And only fly, that Glory may purfue:

She, Pow'r refiftlefs, rules the wife and great,
Bends ev'n reluctant Hermits at her feet;

Haunts the proud City, and the lowly Shade,

And fways alike the Scepter and the Spade.

Thus Heav'n in Pity wakes the friendly Flame, To urge Mankind on Deeds that merit Fame:

40

But Man, vain Man, in folly only wife,
Rejects the Manna fent him from the Skies:
With rapture hears corrupted Paffion's call,
Still proudly prone to mingle with the ftall.
As each deceitful fhadow tempts his view,
He for the imag❜d Substance quits the true;
Eager to catch the vifionary Prize,
In queft of Glory plunges deep in Vice;
'Till madly zealous, impotently vain,
He forfeits ev'ry Praise he pants to gain.

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55

Thus ftill imperious NATURE plies her part; And ftill her Dictates work in ev'ry heart. Each Pow'r that fov'reign Nature bids enjoy, Man may corrupt, but Man can ne'er destroy. Like mighty rivers, with refiftless force The Paffions rage, obftructed in their course; Swell to new heights, forbidden paths explore, And drown thofe Virtues which they fed before. 60

And fure, the deadlieft Foe to Virtue's flame,
Our worst of Evils, is perverted Shame.
Beneath this load what abject numbers groan,
Th' entangled Slaves to folly not their own!
Meanly by fashionable Fear oppress'd,

We feek our Virtues in each other's breast;

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