For where can starving merit find a home?
In vain your mournful narrative disclose,
While all neglect, and most insult your woes.
Should Heaven's just bolts Orgilio's wealth
confound,

And spread his flaming palace on the ground,
Swift o'er the land the dismal rumour flies,
And public mournings pacify the skies;
The laureat tribe in venal verse relate,
How virtue wars with persecuting fate;
With well-feign'd gratitude the pension'd band
Refund the plunder of the beggar'd land.
See! while he builds, the gaudy vassals come,
And crowd with sudden wealth the rising dome;
The price of boroughs and of souls restore;
And raise his treasures higher than before:
Now bless'd with all the baubles of the great,
The polish'd marble, and the shining plate,
Orgilio sees the golden pile aspire,
And hopes from angry Heaven another fire.

Couldst thou resign the park and play con-
For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent; [tent,
There might'st thou find some elegant retreat,
Some hireling senator's deserted seat;
And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land,
For less than rents the dungeons of the Strand:
There prune thy walks, support the drooping
flowers,

Direct thy rivulets, and twine thy bowers;
And while thy grounds a cheap repast afford,
Despise the dainties of a venal lord;

There every bush with Nature's music rings;
There every breeze bears health upon its wings;
On all thy hours security shall smile,
And bless thine evening walk and morning toil.
Prepare for death, if here at night you roam,
And sign your will before you sup from home.

Some fiery fop with new commission vain, Who sleeps on brambles till he kills his man; Some frolic drunkard, reeling from a feast, Provokes a broil, and stabs you for a jest.

hYet even these heroes, mischievously gay, Lords of the street, and terrors of the way;

Si magna Asturici cecidit domus, horrida Pullati proceres.

c

[mater, -Jam accurrit, qui marmora donet,

Conferat impensas: hic, &c.

Hic modium argenti.

d

-Meliora ac plura reponit

Persicus orborum lautissimus.

Si potes avelli Circensibus, optima Soræ, Aut Fabrateriæ domus, aut Frusinone paratur, Quanti nunc tenebras unum conducis in annum. Hortulus hic.

Vive bidentis amans, et culti villicus horti. Unde epulum possis centum dare Pythagoræis. f_ -Possis ignavus haberi,

Et subiti casus improvidus, ad cœnam si
Intestatus eas.

Ebrius, ac petulans, qui nullum forte cecidit, Dat pœnas, noctem patitur lugentis amicum Peleida.

Sed, camvis improbus annis,

Flush'd as they are, with folly, youth, and wine,
Their prudent insults to the poor confine:
Afar they mark the flambeau's bright approach,
And shun the shining train, and golden coach.
In vain, these dangers past, your doors you
close,

And hope the balmy blessings of repose;
Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair,
The midnight murderer bursts the faithless bar;
Invades the sacred hour of silent rest,

And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast. JScarce can our fields, such crowds at Tyburn die,

With hemp the gallows and the fleet supply.
Propose your schemes, ye senatorian band,
Whose ways and means* support the sinking
land:

Lest ropes be wanting in the tempting spring,
To rig another convoy for the king.t

A single jail, in Alfred's golden reign,
Could half the nation's criminals contain:
Fair justice, then, without constraint adored,
Held high the steady scale, but sheath'd the
sword;

No spies were paid, no special juries known; Blest age! but ah! how different from our own!

Much could I add, but see the boat at hand, The tide, retiring, calls me from the land: mFarewell!--When youth, and health, and fortune spent,

Thou fly'st for refuge to the Wilds of Kent;
And, tired, like me, with follies and with crimes,
In angry numbers warn'st succeeding times;
Then shall thy friend, nor thou refuse his aid,
Still foe to vice, forsake his Cambrian shade;
In virtue's cause once more exert his rage,
Thy satire point, and animate thy page.

Atque mero fervens, cavet hunc, quem coccina læna

Vitari jubet, et comitum longissimus ordo, Multum præterea flammarum, atque ænea lam

LET *Observation, with extensive view,
Survey mankind from China to Peru;
Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife,
And watch the busy scenes of crowded life;
Then say, how hope and fear, desire and hate,
O'erspread with snares the clouded maze of fate,
Where wavering man, betray'd by vent'rous
pride,

To tread the dreary paths without a guide,
As treacherous phantoms in the mist delude,
Shuns fancied ills, or chases airy good;

How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice;

How nations sink, by darling schemes oppress'd,
When Vengeance listens to the fool's request.
Fate wings with every wish th' afflictive dart,
Each gift of nature, and each grace of art;
With fatal heat impetuous courage glows,
With fatal sweetness elocution flows;
Impeachment stops the speaker's powerful breath,
And restless fire precipitates on death.

†But, scarce observed, the knowing and the bold

Fall in the general massacre of Gold;
Wide wasting pest! that rages unconfined,
And crowds with crimes the records of mankind:
For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws,
For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws;
Wealth heap'd on wealth, nor truth nor safety
buys,

The dangers gather as the treasures rise.
Let History tell where rival kings command,
And dubious title shakes the madded land,
When statutes glean the refuse of the sword,
How much more safe the vassal than the lord;
Low sculks the hind beneath the rage of power,
And leaves the wealthy traitor in the Tower,
Untouch'd his cottage, and his slumbers sound,
Though Confiscation's vultures hover round.

The needy traveller, serene and gay,
Walks the wild heath, and sings his toil away.
Does envy seize thee? crush th' upbraiding joy;
Increase his riches, and his peace destroy;
Now fears in dire vicissitude invade,
The rustling brake alarms, and quivering shade;
Nor light nor darkness bring his pain relief,
One shows the plunder, and one hides the thief.
Yet still one general cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales;
Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care,
Th' insidious rival and the gaping heir.

Once more, Democritus, arise on earth, With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth, See motley life in modern trappings dress'd, And fed with varied fools th' eternal jest:

Where wealth, unloved, without a mourner died; And scarce a sycophant was fed by pride; Where ne'er was known the form of mock de bate,

Or seen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state; Where change of favourites made no change of laws,

And senates heard before they judged a cause; How wouldst thou shake at Briton's modish tribe,

Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe?
Attentive truth and nature to descry,
And pierce each scene with philosophic eye,
To thee were solemn toys, or empty show,
The robes of pleasure and the veils of wo:
All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain,
Whose joys are causeless, and whose griefs are

vain.

Such was the scorn that fill'd the sage's mind, Renew'd at every glance on human kind; How just that scorn ere yet thy voice declare, Search every state, and canvass every prayer.

*Unnumber'd suppliants crowd Preferment's

gate,

Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great;
Delusive Fortune hears th' incessant call,
They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall.
On every stage the foes of peace attend,
Hate dogs their flight, and insult mocks their end.
Love ends with hope, the sinking statesman's
door

Pours in the morning worshipper no more;
For growing names the weekly scribbler lies,
To growing wealth the dedicator flies,
From every room descends the painted face,
That hung the bright palladium of the place;
And, smoked in kitchens, or in auctions sold,
To better features yields the frame of gold;
For now no more we trace in every line
Heroic worth, benevolence divine:
The form distorted, justifies the fall,
And detestation rids th' indignant wall.

But will not Britain hear the last appeal,
Sign her foes' doom, or guard her favourites1
zeal?
[rings,
Through Freedom's sons no more remonstrance
Degrading nobles, and controlling kings;
Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats,
And ask no questions but the price of votes;
With weekly libels and septennial ale,
Their wish is full to riot and to rail.

In full-blown dignity, see Wolsey stand, Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand: To him the church, the realm, their powers consign,

Through him the rays of regal bounty shine,

Till conquest unresisted ceased to please,
And rights submitted, left him none to seize.
At length his sovereign frowns-the train of state
Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to

hate.

Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye,
His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly;
Now drops at once the pride of awful state,
The golden canopy, the glittering plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious board,
The liveried army, and the menial lord.
With age, with cares, with maladies oppress'd,
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest.
Grief aids disease, remember'd folly stings,
And his last sighs reproach the faith of kings.
Speak thou, whose thoughts at humble peace
repine,
thine?
Shall Wolsey's wealth, with Wolsey's end, be
Or livest thou now, with safer pride content,
The wisest justice on the banks of Trent?
For, why did Wolsey, near the steeps of fate,
On weak foundations raise th' enormous weight?
Why but to sink beneath misfortune's blow,
With louder ruin to the gulfs below?

*What gave great Villiers to th' assassin's
knife,

And fix'd disease on Harley's closing life?
What murder'd Wentworth, and what exiled
Hyde,

By kings protected, and to kings allied?
What but their wish indulged in courts to shine,
And
power too great to keep, or to resign?
When first the college rolls receive his name,
The young enthusiast quits his ease for fame;
Resistless burns the fever of renown,
Caught from the strong contagion of the gown;
O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread,
And Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head.
Are these thy views? Proceed, illustrious youth,
And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth!
Yet, should thy soul indulge the generous heat
Till captive Science yields her last retreat;
Should Reason guide thee with her brightest ray,
And pour on misty Doubt resistless day;
Should no false kindness lure to loose delight,
Nor praise relax, nor difficulty fright;
Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain,
And Sloth effuse her opiate fumes in vain;
Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart,
Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart;
Should no disease thy torpid veins invade,
Nor Melancholy's phantoms haunt thy shade,
Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,
Nor think the doom of man reversed for thee:
Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes,
And pause awhile from Letters, to be wise;
There mark what ills the scholar's life assail,
Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the gaol.
See nations, slowly wise, and meanly just,
To buried merit raise the tardy bust.
If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,
Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end.§
Nor deem, when Learning her last prize
bestows,

The glitt'ring eminence exempt from woes;

See, when the vulgar 'scape, despised or awed,
Rebellion's vengeful talons seize on Laud.
From meaner minds though smaller fines content,
The plunder'd palace, or sequester'd tent;
Mark'd out by dangerous parts, he meets the
shock,

And fatal Learning leads him to the block:
Around his tomb let Art and Genius weep,
But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and
sleep.

*The festal blazes, the triumphal show,
The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe,
The senate's thanks, the Gazette's pompous tale,
With force resistless o'er the brave prevail.
Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Asia whirl'd,
For such the steady Romans shook the world;
For such in distant lands the Britons shine;
And stain with blood the Danube or the Rhine,
This power has praise that virtue scarce can

warm,

Till fame supplies the universal charm.
Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal game,
Where wasted nations raise a single name;
And mortgaged states their grandsires' wreaths
From age to age in everlasting debt; [regret,
Wreaths which at last the dear-bought right

convey,

To rust on medals, or on stones decay.

On what foundation stands the warrior's
pride,

How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide;
A frame of adamant, a soul of fire,
No dangers fright him, and no labours tire;
O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain,
Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain;
No joys to him pacific sceptres yield,
War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field;
Behold surrounding kings their power combine,
And one capitulate, and one resign;
Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms
in vain;
[remain,
"Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till nought
On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly,
And all be mine beneath the polar sky."
The march begins in military state,
And nations on his eye suspended wait;
Stern Famine guards the solitary coast,
And Winter barricades the realm of Frost;
He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day:
The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands,
And shows his miseries in distant lands;
Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait,
While ladies interpose and slaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her error mend?
Did no subverted empire mark his end?
Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound?
Or hostile millions press him to the ground?
His fall was destined to a barren strand,
A petty fortress, and a dubious hand;
He left a name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

All times their scenes of pompous woes afford,
From Persia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord.
In gay hostility and barbarous pride,
With half mankind embattled at his side,
Great Xerxes comes to seize the certain prey,
And starves exhausted regions in his way;
Attendant Flattery counts his myriads o'er,
Till counted myriads sooth his pride no more,

* Ver. 133-146. Ver. 147-167 Ver. 168-187,

Fresh praise is try'd till madness fires his mind,
The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind,
New powers are claim'd, new powers are still
bestow'd,

Till rude Resistance lops the spreading god;
The daring Greeks deride the martial show,
And heap their valleys with the gaudy foe;
Th' insulted sea with humbler thoughts he
gains,

A single skiff to speed his flight remains ;
The incumbered oar scarce leaves the dreaded
coast,

Through purple billows and a floating host.
The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour,
Tries the dread suminits of Cæsarian power,
With unexpected legions bursts away,
And sees defenceless realms receive his sway;
Short sway! fair Austria spreads her mournful
charms,

The queen, the beauty, sets the world in arms;
From hill to hill the beacon's rousing blaze
Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise;
The fierce Croatian, and the wild Hussar,
With all the sons of ravage crowd the war;
The baffled prince, in honour's flattering bloom
Of hasty greatness, finds the fatal doom;
His foes' derision, and his subjects' blame,
And steals to death from anguish and from
shame.

*Enlarge my life with multitude of days!
In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays;
Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know,
That life protracted is protracted wo.
Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy,
And shuts up all the passages of joy:
In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour,
The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flower;
With listless eyes the dotard views the store,
He views, and wonders that they please no

more:

ear,

Now pall the tasteless meats and joyless wines,
And luxury with sighs her slave resigns.
Approach, ye minstrels, try the soothing strain,
Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain:
No sounds, alas! would touch th' impervious
[near;
Though dancing mountains witness'd Orpheus
Nor lute nor lyre his feeble powers attend,
Nor sweeter music of a virtuous friend;
But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue,
Perversely grave, or positively wrong.
The still returning tale, and lingering jest,
Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest,
While growing hopes scarce awe the gathering
And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear; [sneer,
The watchful guests still hint the last offence;
The daughter's petulance, the son's expense,
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his passions till they make his will.
Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade,
Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade;
But unextinguish'd Avarice still remains,
And dreaded losses aggravate his pains;
He turns, with anxious heart and crippled
hands,

His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands;
Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.

But grant, the virtues of a temperate prime Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime;

Ver 188-299.

| An age that melts in unperceived decay,
And glides in modest innocence away;
Whose peaceful day Benevolence endears,
Whose night congratulating Conscience cheers;
The general favourite as the general friend;
Such age there is, and who shall wish its end?

Yet even on this her load Misfortune flings,
To press the weary minutes' flagging wings;
New sorrow rises as the day returns,
A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns.
Now kindred Merit fills the sable bier,
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear;
Year chases year, decay pursues decay,
Still drop some joy from withering life away;
New forms arise, and different views engage,
Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage,
Till pitying Nature signs the last release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.

But few there are whom hours like these
await,

Who set unclouded in the gulfs of Fate,
From Lydia's monarch should the search de
By Solon caution'd to regard his end, [scend.
In life's last scene what prodigies surprise,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise!
From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage
flow

And Swift expires a driveller and a show.

*The teeming mother, anxious for her race, Begs for each birth the fortune of a face; Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring;

And Sedley cursed the form that pleased a king.
Ye nymphs of rosy lips and radiant eyes,
Whom Pleasure keeps too busy to be wise;
Whom joys with soft varieties invite,
By day the frolic, and the dance by night,
Who frown with vanity, who smile with art,
And ask the latent fashion of the heart;
What care, what rules, your heedless charms
shall save,
[slave?
Each nymph your rival, and each youth your
Against your fame with fondness hate combines,
The rival batters, and the lover mines.
With distant voice neglected Virtue calls,
Less heard and less, the faint remonstrance
falls;
[reign,
Tired with contempt, she quits the slippery
And Pride and Prudence take her seat in vain.
In crowd at once, where none the pass defend,
The harmless freedom, and the private friend.
The guardians yield, by force superior plied,
To Interest, Prudence; and to Flattery, Pride.
Here Beauty falls betray'd, despised, distress'd,
And hissing Infamy proclaims the rest.

Where then shall Hope and Fear their ob-
jects find?

Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?
Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Must no dislike, alarm, no wishes rise,
No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?
Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain
Which Heaven may hear, nor deem Religion

vain.

Implore his aid, in his decisions rest,

Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions and a will resign'd;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal of retreat.
These goods for man the laws of Heaven or-
dain,
[gain;
These goods he grants, who grants the power to
With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK,

AT THE

Opening of the Theatre-Royal, Drury-Lane, 1747.
WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous
foes
[rose;
First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspeare
Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,
Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new:
Existen ce saw him spurn her bounded reign,
And pa nting Time toil'd after him in vain.
His powerful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,
And un resisted Passion storm'd the breast.

Then Jonson came, instructed from the school,
To please in method, and invent by rule;
His studious patience and laborious art,
By regular approach assail'd the heart:
Cold approbation gave the lingering bays,
For those, who durst not censure, scarce could
praise.

A mortal born, he met the general doom,
But left, like Egypt's kings, a lasting tomb.
The wits of Charles found easier ways to
fame,
[flame,
Nor wish'd for Jonson's art, or Shakspeare's
Themselves they studied-as they felt they writ;
Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit.
Vice always found a sympathetic friend;
They pleased their age, and did not aim to mend.
Yet bards like these aspired to lasting praise,
And proudly hoped to pimp in future days.
Their cause was general, their supports were
strong,
[long:
Their slaves were willing, and their reign was
Till Shame regain'd the post that Sense betray'd,
And Virtue call'd Oblivion to her aid.

Then, crush'd by rules, and weaken'd as re-
fined,

For years the power of Tragedy declined;
From bard to bard the frigid caution crept,
Till Declamation roar'd, while Passion slept;
Yet still did Virtue deign the stage to tread,
Philosophy remain'd though Nature fled.
But forced, at length, her ancient reign to quit,
She saw great Faustus lay the ghost of Wit;
Exulting Folly hail'd the joyful day,

And Pantomine and Song confirm'd her sway.
But who the coming changes can presage,
And mark the future periods of the Stage?
Perhaps, if skill could distant times explore,
New Behns, new Durfeys, yet remain in store;
Perhaps, where Lear has raved, and Hamlet
On flying cars new sorcerers may ride: [died,

Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of

chance?)

[dance. Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet * may Hard is his lot that, here by Fortune placed, Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; With every meteor of caprice must play, And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. Ah! let not Censure term our fate our choice, The stage but echoes back the public voice; The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give, For we that live to please, must please, to live. Then prompt no more the follies you decry. As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die ; 'Tis yours, this night, to bid the reign commence Of rescued Nature and reviving Sense; [Show, To chase the charms of Sound, the pomp or For useful Mirth, and salutary Wo;

Bid scenic Virtue form the rising age,

And Truth diffuse her radiance from the stage.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK, APRIL 5, 1750.

BEFORE THE MASQUE OF COMUS,

ACTED AT DRURY-LANE THEATRE FOR THE BENEFIT OF MILTON'S GRANDDAUGHTER.

YE patriot crowds, who burn for England's fame, [name, Ye nymphs, whose bosoms beat at Milton's Whose generous zeal, unbought by flattering rhymes,

Shames the mean pensions of Augustan times,
Immortal patrons of succeeding days,
Attend this prelude of perpetual praise;
Let wit, condemn'd the feeble war to wage
With close malevolence, or public rage,
Let study, worn with virtue's fruitless lore,
Behold this theatre, and grieve no more.
This night, distinguish'd by your smile, shall
That never Briton can in vain excel; [tell
The slighted arts futurity shall trust,
And rising ages hasten to be just.

At length our mighty bard's victorious lays
Fill the loud voice of universal praise;
And baffled spite, with hopeless anguish dumb,
Yields to renown the centuries to come:
With ardent haste each candidate of fame,
Ambitious, catches at his towering name;
He sees, and pitying sees, vain wealth bestow,
Those pageant honours which he scorn'd below,
While crowds aloft the laureat bust behold,
Or trace his form on circulating gold,
Unknown, unheeded, long his offspring lay,
And want hung threatening o'er her slow decay,
What though she shine with no Miltonian fire,
No favouring Muse her morning dreams inspire;
Yet softer claims the melting heart engage,
Her youth laborious, and her blameless age;
Hers the mild merits of domestic life,
The patient sufferer, and the faithful wife.
Thus graced with humble virtue's native charms,
Her grandsire leaves her in Britannia's arms;
Secure with peace, with competence, to dwell,
While tutelary nations guard her cell.
Yours is the charge, ye fair, ye wise, ye brave!
'Tis yours to crown desert-beyond the grave.

* Hunt a famous boxer on the stage; Mahomet a rope

dancer, who had exhibited at Covent-Garden Theatre the winter before, said to be a Turk.