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For ministers laborious pamphlets write, I'Midst the mad mansions of Moorficlds, I'd be
In senates prattle, and with patriots fight! A straw-crown's monarch, in mock majesty,
Thy fond ambition, pretty youth, give o'er, Rather than sovereign rule Britannia's fate,
Preside at balls, old fashions lost restore; | Curse with the follies and the farce of state.
So shall each toilette in thy cause engage, Rather in Newgate walls, O! let me dwell,
And H- ey shine a

P re of the age. A doleful tenant of the darkling cell,
« Behold a star emblazon - -n's coat! "Than swell, in palaces, the mighty store
Not that the knight bas inerit, bnt a vote. Of fortune's fools, and parasites of pow'r.
And here, O goddess, num'rous wronghead: trace, Than crowns, ye gods! be any state my doom,
Lur'd by a pension, ribband, or a place, | Or any dungeon, but-a drawing-rooin.

“ To murder science, and iny cause defend, “Thrice happy patriot ! whom no courts debase, Now shoals of Grub-street garretteers descend; No tilles lessen, aud no stars disgrace.' From schools and desks the writing insects crawl, Still nod the plumage o'er the brainless head; Unlade their dullness, and for Appius bawl. Still o'er the faithless heart the ribband spread.

“Lo! to thy darling Osborne turn thine eyes, Such toys may serve to signalize the tool, See him o'er politics superior rise;

To gild the knave, or garnish out the fool; While Caleb feels the venom of his quill;

While you, with Roman virtue arm’d, disdain And wond'ring ministers reward his skill:

The tinsel trappings and the glitt'ring chain: Unlearn'd in logic, yet he writes by rule, Fond of your freedom spurn the venal fee, And proves himself in syllogism-a fool;

And prove he's only great--who dares be free.” Now flies obedient, war with sense to wage,

Thus sung Philemon in his calm retreat, And drags th' idea thro' the painful page: | Too wise for pow'r, too virtuous to be great. Unread, unanswer'd, still he writes again,

“But whence this rage at courts?” reply'd his Still spins the endless cobweb of his brain :

grace, Charm'd with each line, reviewing what he writ, “Say, is the mighty crime, to be in place? Blesses his stars, and wonders at bis wit.

Is that the deadly sin, mark'd out by Heav'n, “Nor less, O Walsingham, thy worth appears! For which no mortal e'er can be forgiv'o ? Alike in merit, tho' unlike in years:

Must all, all suffer, who in courts engage, Ill-fated youth! what stars malignant shed Down from lord steward, to the puny page ? Their baneful influence o'er thy brainless head, Can courts and places be such sinful things, Doom'd to be ever writing, never read!

The sacred gifts and palaces of kings?" For bread to libel liberty and sepse,

A place may claim our rev'rence, sir, I own; And damn thy patron weekly with defence. But then the man its dignity must crown: Drench'd in the sable flood, O hadst thou still 'Tis not the truncheon, or the ermine's pride, O'er skins of parchment drove thy venal quill, Can screen the coward, or the knave can hide. At Temple ale-house told an idle tale,

Let Stair and *** bead our arms and law, And pawn'd thy credit for a mug of ale;

The judge and gen'ral must be view'd with awe: Unknown to Appius then bad been thy name, The villain then would shudder at the bar; Unlac'd thy coat, unsacrific'd his fame;

And Spain grow humble at the sound of war. Nor vast unvended reams would Peele deplore, What courts are sacred, when I tell your grace, As victims destin'd to the common-shore.

Manners alone must sanctify the place? "As dunce to dunce in endless numbers breed, | Hence only each its proper name receives; So to Concanen see a Ralph succeed;

Haywood's a brothel; White's' a den of thieves: A tiny witling of these writing days, plays. | Bring whores and thieves to court, you change Full-fam'd for tuneless rhimes, and short-liv'd

the scene, Write on, my luckless bard, still unasham'd, St. James's turns the brothel, and the deni Tho'burnt thy journals, and thy drainas damn'd; Who would the courtly chapel holy call, 'Tis bread inspires thy politics and lays,

Tho' the whole bench should consecrate the wall? .Not thirst of immortality or praise.

While the trim chaplain, conscious of a fee, “These, goddess, view, the choicest of the train, Cries out, “ My king, I have no God but thee;"> While yet uunumber'd dunces still remain; | Lifts to the royal seat the asking eye, Deans, critics, lawyers, bards, a motley crew, Aud pays to George the tribute of the sky; To dullness faithful, as to Appius true.”

Proves sin alone from humble roofs must spring, "Enough,”the goddess cries,"enough I'vescen;

Nor can one earthly failing stain a king.

Bishops and kings may consecrate, 'lis true ; While these support, secure my son shall reign;

Manners alone claim hoinage as their due. Still shalt thou blund'ring rule Britannia's fate,

Without, the court and church are both prophane, Still Grub-street hail thee minister of state.

Whatever prelate preach, or monarch reign;
Religion's rostrum virtue's scaffold grows,

And crowns and mitres are inere raree-shows,

In vain, behold yon rev'rend turrets rise, A SATIRE, 1738.

And Saruin's sacred spire salute the skies ! Paulus vel Cossus vel Drusus moribus esto. i Dr. Swift says, “ that the late earl of Ox

JUVENAL. | ford, in the time of his ministry, never passed by

White's chocolate-house (the common rendezWell--of all plagues which make mankind vous of infamous sharpers and noble cullies) their sport,

(-a court. without bestowing a curse upon that famous acaGuard me, ye Heav'ns! from that worst plague demy, as the bane of half the English nobility."

If the lawn'd Levite's earthly vote be sold, Abroad, the guardian of his country's cause;
And God's free gift retail'd for Mammon gold; At home, a Tully to defend her laws.
No rev'rence can the proud cathedral claim, Senates with awe the patriot sounds imbibe,
But Henley's shop, and Sherlock's, are the same. And bold corruption almost drops the bribe.
Whence bave St. Stephen's walls so hallow'd Thus added worth to worth, and grace to grace,

He beams new glories back upon his race.
Whence? From the virtue of his sons within.

Ask ye, what's honour? I'll the truth impart. But should some guileful serpent, void of grace, | Koow, honour, then, is honesty of heart. Glide in its bounds, and poison all the place; To the sweet sce:es of social Stow 6 repair, Should e'er the sacred voice be set to sale, And search the master's breast, -you'll find it And o'er the heart the golden fruit prevail;

there. The place is alter'd, sir; nor think it strange Too proud to grace the sycophant or slave, To see the senate sink into a change,

It only harbours with the wise and brave; Or court, or church, or senate-house, or hall, Ungain'd by titles, places, wealth, or birth: Manners alone beam digaity on all.

Learn this, and learn to blush, ye sons of Earth! Without their influence, palaces are cells;

Blush to behold this ray of nature made
Crane-courta, a magazine of cockle-shells; The victim of a ribband, or cockade.
The solemn bench no bosom strikes with awe, Ask the proud peer, what's honour ? he dis-
But Westininster's a warehouse of the law.

These honest truths, my lord, deny who can; A purchas'd patent, or the herald's blaze;
Since all allow that " Manners make the man.” (Or, if the royal smile his hopes has blest,
Hence only glories to the great belong,

Points to the glitt'ring glory on his breast:
Or peers must mingle with the peasant throng. Yet, if beneath no real virtue reign,

Though strung with ribbands, yet behold his On the gay coat the star is but a stain : Shines but a lacquey in a higher place! [grace For I could whisper in his lordship's ear, Strip the gay liv'ry from the courtier's back, Worth only beams true radiance on the star.' What marks the diff'rence'twixt my lord andJack? Hence see the garter'd glory dart its rays, The same mean, supple, mercenary knave, And shine round E- with redoubled blaze: The tool of power, and of state the slave:

Ask ye from whence this flood of lustre's seen? Alike the vassal heart in each prevails,

Why E- whispers, votes, and saw Turin. And all his lordship boasts is larger vales,

Long Milo reign'd the minion of renown; Wealth, manors, titles, mav descend. 'tis true: | Loud his eulogiums echo'd through the town: But ev'ry heir must merit's claim renew.

Where'er he went, still crowds around him throng, Who blushes not to see a C h eir

And hail'd the patriot as he pass'd along.
Turir slave to sound, and languish for a play’r)? See the lost peer, unhonour'd now by all,
What piping, fidling, squeaking, quav'ring, brawl Steal through the street, or skulk along the Mall;

Applauding sounds no more salute his ear,
What sing-song riot, and what eunuch-squawling! But the loud Pran's sunk into a sneer.
C- , thy worth all Italy shall own,

Whence, you'll inquire, could spring a change so A statesman fit, where Nero * fill'd the throne. Why, the poor man ran inilitary mad; [sad? See poor Lævinus, anxious for renown),

By this mistaken maxim still misled, Through the long gallery trace his lineage down, | That men of honour must be cloth'd in red. And claim each hero's visage for his own.

My grandsire wore it, Milo cries—'tis good; What though in each the self same features shine, But know, the grandsire stain'd it red with blood. Unless some lineal virtue marks the line,

First midst the deathful dangers of the field, In vain, alas! he boasts his grandsire's name, He shone his country's guardian, and its shield; Or hopes to borrow lustre of his fame.

Taught Danube's stream with Gallic gore to flow; Who but must smile, to see the tim'rous peer Hence bloom'd the laurel on the grandsire's brow; Point 'mong his race our bulwark in the war? But sball the son expect the wreath to wear, Or in sad English tell low senates hung

For the mock triumphs of an Hyde park war? On the sweet music of his father's tongue? Sooner shall-Bunhill, Blenheim's glories claim, Unconscious, though his sires were wise and brave, Or Billers rival brave Eugene in fame; Their virtues only find in him a grave.

Sooner a like reward their labours crown, Not so with Stanhopes; see by him sustain'd Who storm a dunghill, and who sack a town. Each hoary honour which his sires had gain'd. Mark our bright youths, how gallant and bow To him the virtues of his race appear

gay, The precious portion of five hundred year; Fresh plum'd and powder'd in review array. Descended down, by him to be enjoy'd,

Unspoil'd each feat are by the martial scar, Yet holds the talent lost, if unemploy'd.

Lo! A assumes the god of war : [pay, From hence behold his gen'rous ardour rise, Yet vain, while prompt to arms by plume and To suell the sacred stream with fresh supplies : He claims the soldier's name from soldier's play,

This truth, my warrior, treasure in thy breast; * The Royal Society.

A standing soldier is a standing jest. * That extraordinary instance of the folly, ex When bloody battles dwindle to reviews, traragance, and depravity of the English, Fa Armies must then descend to puppet-shews;. rinello.

Where the lac'd log may strut the soldier's part, * A Roman emperor remarkable for his passion Bedeck'd with feather, though unaru'd with heart for music. 5 The right honourable the earl of Chester-||

6 The seat of the right honourable the lord feld,

viscount Cobham.

There are who say, “ You lash the sins of men ! | Amitre may repay his heav'nly crown, Leave, leave to Pope the poignance of the pen; And, while he decks her brow, adorn his own. Hope not the bays shall wreath around thy head; Let laureat Cibber birth-day soppets sing, Fann'us may write, but Flaccus will be read,” Or Fanny crawl, an ear-wig on the king: Shall only one have privilege to blame?

While one is void of wit, and one of grace,
What then, are vice and folly royal game? Why shoull I envy either song or place?
Must all be poachers who attempt to kill? I could not flatter, the rich butt to gain;
All, but the mighty sovereign of the quill? Nor sink a slave, to rise vice chamberlain.
Shall Pope, alone, the plenteous harvest have, Perish my verse! whene'er one venal line
And I not glean one straggling fool, or knave? | Bedaubs a duke, or makes a king divine.
Praise, 'tis allow'd, is free to all mankind; First bid me swear, he's sound who has the
Say, why should honest satire be confin'd?

plague, .
Though, like th’immortal bard's, my feeble dart | Or Horace rivals Stanhope at the Hague.
Stains not its feather in the culprit heart; What, shall I turn a pander to the throne,
Yet know, the smallest insect of the wing

And list with B-Il's lò to roar for half-a-crown?
The horse may tease, or elephant can sting : Sooner T-sm shall with Tully vie,
Ev'n I, by chance, some lucky darts may show'r, Or W--nin senate scom a lie;
And gall some great leviathans of pow'r. Sooner Iberia tremble for her fate

I name not Walpole; you the reason guess; From Mob's arms, or Abn's debate. Mark yon fell harpy hov'ring o'er the press. Though fawning Aattry ne'er shall taint my Secure the Muse may sport with names of kings;

lays, But ministers, my friend, are dangʻrous things. Yet know, when virtue calls, I burst to praise. Who would have Paxton 7 answer wbat he writ; Behold yon temple " rais'd by Cobham's hand, Or special juries, judges of his wit ?

Sacred to worthies of his native land : Pope writes unhurt-but know, 'tis diff'rent Ages were ransack'd for the wise and great, quite

Till Barnard came, and made the groupe comTo beard the lion, and to crush the mite.

plete. Safe may he dash the statesman in each line; Be Barnard thereenliven'd by the voice, Those dread his satire, who dare punish mine. Each busty bow'd, and sanctify'd the choice. “Turn, turn your satire then," you cry, “ to Pointless all satire in these iron times; praise.”

Too faint are colours, and too feeble rbymes. Why, praise is satire, in these sinful days. Rise then, gay fancy, future glories bring, Say, should I make a patriot of sir Bill,

And stretch o'er happier days thy healing wing. Or swear that G o's duke has wit at will '; Rapt into thought, lo!. I Britannia see From the gull’d knight could I expect a place, | Rising superior o'er the subject sea; Or hope to lie a dinner from his grace,

View her gay pendents spread their silken wings, Though a reward be graciously bestow'd

Big with the fate of empires, and of kings: On the soft satire of each birth-day ode?

The tow'ring barks dance lightly o'er the main, The good and bad alike with praise are blest ; And roll their thunder thro' the realms of Spain. Yet those who merit most, still want it least: Peace, violated maid, they ask no more, But conscious vice still courts the cheering ray, But waft her back triumphant to our shore; While virtue shines, nor asks the glare of day.

| While buxom Plenty, laughing in her train, Need I to any, Pult'ney's worth declare?

Glads ev'ry heart, and crowns the warrior's pain. Or tell him Carteret charms, who has an ear? | On, fancy, on! still stretch the pleasing scene, Or, Pitt, can thy example be unknown,

And bring fair freedom with her golden reign; While each fond father marks it to his son ? Cheer'd by whose beams ev'n meagre want can I cannot truckle to a slave in state,

smile, And praise a blockhead's wit, because he's great: | And the poor peasant whistle 'midst his toil. Down, down, ye hungry garretteers, descend, Such days, what Briton wishes not to see? Call Walpole 8 Burleigh, call him Britain's friend; | And such each Briton, Frederic "?, hopes from Behold the genjal ray of gold appear,

thee. And rouse, ye swarms of Grub-street and Rag-fair.

See with what zeal yon tiny insect 9 burns, And follows queens from palaces to urns:

1• A noted agent in a mob-regiment, who is emThough cruel death has clos'd the royal ear, ployed to reward their venal vociferations, on cerThat flatt'riug fly still buzzes round the bier: tain occasions, with half-a-crown each man. But what avails, since queens no longer live? Why, kings can read, and kings, you know, may

11 The Temple of British Worthies in the gargive.

dens at Stow, in which the lord Cobham has

| lately erected the busto of sir John Baruardo ? A famous solicitor. • See these two characters compared in the

12 The father of George the Third. Gazetteers; but, lest none of those papers should have escaped their common fate, see the two characters distinguished in the Craftsman.

9 Dr. Alured Clarke, who wrote, or rather stole, a character of the late queen from Dr. Burnet's character of queen Mary. This pamphlet, however, has been ascribed to lord Uervey.



POEM. A VERY SHORT, BUT VERY CURIOUS EPIC POEM) It is an old saying, that necessity is the moWITH THE PROLEGOMENA OP SCRIBLERUS TERTIUS, ther of invention : it should seem then that poeAND NOTES VARIORUM

try, which is a species of invention, must natu- Nos hæc novimus esse nihil. Mart.

rally derive its being from the same origin: hence it will be easy to account for the many Aimsy

ghost-like apparitions, that every day make their · TO THE MOST PUISSANT AND INVINCIBLE appearance among us; for if it be true, as natuMR. JOHN BROUGHTON.

ralists observe, that the health and vigour of the

mother is necessary to produce the like qualities HAD this dedication been addressed to some in the child, what issue can be expected from the reverend prelate, or female court-favourite, womb of so meagre a parent ? to some blundering statesman, or apostate pa But there is another species of poetry, which, triot, I should doubtless have lanched into the instead of owing its birth to the belly, like Mihighest encomiums on public spirit, policy, vir nerva springs at once from the head : of tbis kind tue, piety, &c. and, like the rest of my brother are those productions of wit, sepse, and spirit, dedicators, had most successfully imposed on which once born, like the goddess herself, imtheir vanity, by ascribing to them qualities they mediately become immortal. It is true, these were utterly unacquainted with; by which means are a sort of miraculous births, and therefore it I had prudently reaped the reward of a panegyrist is no wonder they should be found so rare among from my patron, and, at the same time, secured us.--As glory is the noble inspirer of the latter, the reputation of a satirist with the public. so hunger is the natural incentive of the former:

But scoring these base arts, I present the fol- thus fame and food are the spurs with which every lowing poem to you, unswayed by either fattery poet mounts his Pegasus; but, as the impetus of or interest; since your modesty would defend the belly is apt to be more cogent than that of the you against the poison of the one, and your head, so you will ever see the one pricking and known economy prevent an author's expectations goading a tired jade to a hobbling trot, while the of the other. I shall therefore only tell you, other only incites the foaming steed to a majestic what you really are, and leave those (whose pa- capriol. trous are of the higher class) to tell them what The gentle reader, it is apprehended, will not they really are not. But such is the depravity | long be at a loss to determine, which species the of human nature, that every compliment we be- following production ought to be ranked under: stow on another is too apt to be deemed a satire but as the parent most unnaturally cast it out as on ourselves; yet surely, while I am praising the spurious issue of his brain, and even cruelly the strength of your arm, no politician can think denies it the common privilege of his name; it meant as a reflection on the weakness of his struck with the delectable beauty of its features, head; or, while I am justifying your title to the I could not avoid adopting the little poetic orphan, character of a man, will any modern petit-maitre and by dressing it up with a few notes, &c. prethink it an impeachment of his affinity to that of sent it to the public as perfect as possible. its mimic counterfeit, a monkey?

Had I, in imitation of other great authors, Were I to attempt a description of your qua- only consulted my interest in the publication of lifications, I might justly have recourse to the this inimitable piece, (which doubtless will unmajesty of Agamemnon, the courage of Achilles, dergo numerous impressious) I might first have the strength of Ajax, and the wisdom of Ulysses; sent it into the world naked, then, by the addi. but, as your own heroic actions afford us the best i tion of a commentary, notes variorum, prolemirror of your merits, I shall leave the reader | gomena, and all that, levied a new tax upon the to view in that the amazing lustre of a character, public; and after all, by a sort of moderu pueta few traits of which only, the following poemical legerdemain, changing the name of the prin. was intended to display; and in which, had the cipal hero, and inserting a few hypercritics of a ability of the poet equalled the magnanimity of Mattering friend's, have rendered the former edihis hero, I doubt not but the Gymnasiad had, tions incorrect, and cozened the curious reader like the immortal Iliad, been handed down to the out of a treble consideration for the same work; admiration of all posterity.

but however this may suit the tricking arts of a As your superior merits contributed towards bookseller, it is certainly much below the sublime raising you to the dignities you now enjoy, and genius of an author.--I know it will be said, placed you even as the safe-guard of royalty it. that a man has an equal right to make as much self, so I cannot help thinking it happy for the as he can of his wit, as well as of his money : prince, that he is now able to boast one real but then it ought to be considered, whether chauspion in his service: and what Frenchman there may not be such a thing as usury in would not tremble more at the puissant armı of a | both; and the law having only provided against Broughton, than at the ceremonious gauntlet of it in one instance, is, I apprehend, no very a Dimmack?

moral plea for the practice of it in the I am,

with the most profound respect
to your heroic virtues,

1 As this may be thought to be particularly your most devoted,

aimed at an author who was lately reported to be and most humble servant dead, and whose loss all lovers of the muses.

The judicious reader will casily perceive, that besides, the poignance of the sword is too prethe following poem in all its properties partakes valent for that of the pen; and who, when there of the epic; such as fighting, speeching, bully- | are at present so many thousand unanswerable ing, ranting, &c. (to say nothing of the moral) | standing arguments ready to defend, would ever and, as many thousand verses are thought neces- be Quixote enough to attack, either the omnipca sary to the construction of this kind of poem, ittence of a prince, or the omniscience of his inimay be objccted, that this is too short to be rank- nisters? ed under that class : to which I will only an Were I to attempt an analysis of this poem, I gwer, that as conciseness is the last fault a wri- coula demonstrate that it contains (as much as ter is apt to commit, so it is generally the first a a piece of so sublime a nature will admit of) all reader is willing to forgive; and though it may those true standards of wit, humour, raillery, not be altogether so long, yet I dare say, it satire, and ridicule, which a late writer has so will not be found less replete with the true vis marvellously discovered; and might, on the part poetica, than (not to mention the Iliad, Æneid, of our author, say with that profound critic&c.) even Leonidas itself.

Jacta est Alea: but as the obscurity of a beauty It may farther be objected, that the charac- too strongly argues the want of one, so an Mters of our prircipal heroes are too humble for | deavour to elucidate the merits of the following the grandeur of the epic fable; but the candid performance, might be apt to give the reader a reader will be pleased to observe, that they are disadvantageous impression against it, as it not here celebrated in their mechanic, but in might tacitly imply they were too mysterious to their heroic capacities, as boxers, who, by the come within the compass of his comprehension. ancients themselves, have ever been estecmed | I shall therefore leave them to his more curious worthy to be immortalized in the noblest works of observation, and bid him heartily farewell. this nature ; of which the Epëus and Euryalus of Lege & delectare. Homer, and the Entellus and Dares of Virgil,

Sceiblerus Tertius. are incontestable authorities. And as those authors were ever careful, that their principal personages (however mean in themselves) should

THE GYMNASIAD. derive their pedigree from some deity, or illus

BOOK I. trious hero, so our author has with equal propriety made his spring from Phaëton and Nep

ARGUMENT. tune; under which characters he beautifully al.

The invocation, the proposition, the night be legorises their different occupations of watermen

fore the battle described; the morning opens, and coachmen.—But for my own part, I cannot

and discovers the multitude hasting to the conceive, that the dignity of the hero's profes

place of action; their various professions, dig. sion is any ways essential to that of the action;

nities, &c. illustrated; the spectators being for, if the greatest persons are guilty of the

seated, the youthful combatants are first inmeanest actions, why may not the greatest ac

troduced; their manner of fighting displayed ; tions be ascribed to the meanest persons ?

to these succeed the champions of a bigher de As the main action of this poem is entirely sup

gree; their superior abilities marked, some of ported by the principal heroes themselves, it has

the most eminent particularly celebrated; been maliciously insinuated to be designed, as an

mean while, the principal heroes are repreunmannerly reflection on a late glorious victory,

sented sitting, and ruminating on the ape where, it is pretended, the whole action was a

proaching combat, when the herald summons chieved without the interposition of the principal

them to the lists. heroes at all. But as the most innocent meanjugs may by ill minds be wrested to the most Sing, sing, O Muse, the dire contested fray, wicked purposes, if any such construction | And bloody honours of that dreadful day, should be made, I will venture to affirm, that When Phaëton's bold son (tremendous name) it must proceed from the factious venon of the Dar'd Neptune's offspring to the lists of fame. reader, and not from any disloyal malignity in What fury fraught thee with ambition's fire, our author, who is too well acquainted with the | Ambition, equal foe to son and sire? power, ever to arraign the purity,of government :

V. 3, 4. When Thaiton's bold son ) It is usual

Dard Neptune's oil spring for poets to would have the greatest reason to lament; it!

call the sons after the names of their fathers ; as may not be improper to assure the reader, that

Agamemnon the son of Atreus, and Achilles the it was written, and intended to have been pub

son of Pelens, are frequently terined Pelides and Jished, before that report, and was only meant

| Atrides. Our author would doubtics, hare fol. as an attack upon the general abuse of this kind.

lowed this laudable example, bat be found As to our author himself, he has frequently

Broughtonides and Stephensonides, or their c00given public testimonies of his veneration for

tractions, too unmusical for inetre, and tberefore that great man's genius; nor may it be unenter

with wonderful art adopts two poetical parents ; taining to the reader, to acquaint him with one

which obviates the difhculty, and at the same private instance :Immediately on hearing the

time heightens the dignity of his heroes. report of Mr. Pope's death, he was heard to

BENTLEIDES break forth in the following exclamation:

V. 6. Ambition, equal foe to son and site.] Pope dead !---Hush, hush, Report, the slan-It has been maintained by some pbilosophers, d'rous lie;

that the passions of the mind are in some meda • Fame says he lives--immortals never die.

| sure hereditary, as well as the features of the

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