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Oft in unfeeling hearts the shaft is spent: Tho' ftrong th' example, weak the punishment. They least are paid, who merit fatire most; Folly the Laureat's, Vice was Chartres' boaft: Then where's the wrong, to gibbet high the name Of Fools and Knaves already dead to shame? Oft SATIRE acts the faithful Surgeon's part; Gen'rous and kind tho' painful is her art: With caution bold, she only strikes to heal; Tho' folly raves to break the friendly steel. Then fure no fault impartial SATIRE knows, 165 Kind ev'n in Vengeance, kind to Virtue's foes, Whose is the crime, the scandal too be theirs : The Knave and Fool are their own Libellers.

PART II.

DARE nobly then: But confcious of your truft,

As ever warm and bold, be ever just:

Nor court applause in these degen'rate days;
The Villain's censure is extorted praise.

But chief, be steady in a noble end,
And shew Mankind that Truth has yet a friend.
'Tis mean for empty praise of wit to write,
As Foplings grin to show their Teeth are white:

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To brand a doubtful folly with a smile,

Or madly blaze unknown defects, is vile:
'Tis doubly vile, when, but to prove your art,

You fix an arrow in a blameless heart.

180

O loft to honour's voice, O doom'd to shame,

That name, than liberty, than life more dear!

Where shall thy baseness meet its just return,
Or what repay thy guilt, but endless scorn?
And know, immortal Truth shall mock thy toil:

185

Immortal Truth shall bid the shaft recoil;

With rage retorted, wing the deadly dart;
And empty all its poison in thy heart.

190

With caution next, the dang'rous pow'r apply; An eagle's talon afks an eagle's eye:

Let SATIRE then her proper object know,
And ere she strike, be sure she strike a foe.
Nor fondly deem the real fool confest,
Because blind Ridicule conceives a jest:
Before whose altar Virtue oft hath bled,
And oft a destin'd Victim shall be lead:

195

Lo, Shaftsb'ry rears her high on Reason's throne,
And loads the Slave with honours not her own: 200

Big-fwoln-with folly, as her smiles provoke,
Prophaneness spawns, pert Dunces nurse the joke!
Come, let us join a while this titt'ring crew,
And own the Ideot Guide for once is true;

Deride our weak forefather's musty rule,
Who therefore smil'd, because they saw a Fool;
Sublimer logic now adorns our ifle,

205

We therefore fee a Fool, because we smile.
Truth in her gloomy Cave why fondly feek?
Lo, gay she fits in Laughter's dimple cheek:
Contemns each furly Academic foe,

And courts the spruce Freethinker and the Beau.

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215

Dadalian arguments but few can trace,
But all can read the language of grimace.
Hence mighty Ridicule's all-conquʼring hand
Shall work Herculean wonders thro' the Land:
Bound in the magic of her cobweb chain,
You, mighty WARBURTON, shall rage in vain,
In vain the trackless maze of Truth you scan,
And lend th' informing Clue to erring Man:
No more shall Reafon boast her pow'r divine,
Her Base eternal shook by Folly's mine!
Truth's facred Fort th' exploded laugh shall win;
And Coxcombs vanquish BERKLEY by a grin.

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But you more fage, reject th' inverted rule, 225 That Truth is e'er explor'd by Ridicule: On truth, on falsehood let her colours fall, She throws a dazzling glare alike on all; As the gay Prifm but mocks the flatter'd eye, And gives to ev'ry object ev'ry dye. Beware the mad Advent'rer: bold and blind She hoifts her fail, and drives with ev'ry wind'; Deaf as the Storm to finking Virtue's groan, Nor heeds a Friend's deftruction, or her own. Let clear-ey'd Reason at the helm prefide, Bear to the wind, or stem the furious tide;

4

235

Then Mirth may urge, when Reason can explore,
This point the way, that waft us glad to shore.

240

Tho' distant Times may rise in SATIRE's page,
Yet chief 'tis Her's to draw the prefent Age.
With Wisdom's luftre, Folly's shade contrast,
And judge the reigning Manners by the paft:
Bid Britain's Heroes (awful Shades!) arife,
And ancient Honour beam on modern Vice:
Point back to minds ingenuous actions fair,
Till the Sons blush at what their Fathers were:
Ere yet 'twas beggary the great to truft;
Ere yet 'twas quite a folly to be just;

245

When low-born Sharpers only dar'd a lie,

Or falfify'd the card, or cogg'd the Dye;
Ere Lewdness the stain'd garb of Honour wore,
Or Chastity was carted for the Whore;
Vice flutter'd, in the plumes of Freedom dress'd;
Or public Spirit was the public jeft.

250

Be ever, in a just expreffion, bold,
Yet ne'er degrade fair SATIRE to a Scold:
Let no unworthy mien her form debase,
But let her smile, and let her frown with grace:
In mirth be temp'rate, temp'rate in her spleen;
Nor, while the preaches modesty, obscene.

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