ARE nobly then: But confcious of your trust,
As ever warm and bold, be ever just :
Nor court applause in these degen❜rate days:
The Villain's cenfure is extorted praise.
But chief, be fteady in a noble end,
And fhew mankind that Truth has yet a friend.
'Tis mean for empty praise of wit to write,
As Foplings grin to fhew their teeth are white :
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.
O loft to honour's voice, O doom'd to fhame,
Thou Fiend accurs'd, thou Murderer of Fame!
Fell Ravisher, from Innocence to tear
That name, than liberty, than life more dear!
Where fhall thy baseness meet its just return!
Or what repay thy guilt, but endless fcorn?
And know, immortal Truth fhall mock thy toil:
Immortal Truth fhall bid the fhaft recoil;
Let SATIRE then her proper object know,
And ere she strike, be fure fhe ftrike a foe.
Nor fondly deem the real fool confeft,
Because blind Ridicule conceives a jest:
Before whofe altar Virtue oft hath bled,
And oft a destin'd Victim shall be led :
Lo, Shaftfb'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 awhile this titt'ring crew,
And now the Ideot Guide for once is true;
Deride our weak forefathers' mufty rule,
Who therefore fmil'd, because they faw a Fool;
Sublimer logic now adorns our isle,
We therefore see a Fool, because we fmile.
Truth in her gloomy Cave why fondly feek?
Lo, gay fhe fits in Laughter's dimple cheek:
Contemns each furly academic foe,
And courts the spruce Freethinker and the Beau.
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 through the Land:
Bound in the magic of her cob-web chain,
You, mighty WARBURTON, shall rage in vain,
In vain the trackless maze of Truth
you fcan,
And lend th' informing Clue to erfing Man:
No more fhall Reason boast her pow'r divine,
Her Base eternal shook by Folly's mine!
7
Truth's facred Fort th' exploded laugh fhall win;
And Coxcombs vanquish BERKLEY by a grin.
But you, more fage, reject th' inverted rule, 225
That Truth is e'er explor'd by Ridicule :
On truth, on falfehood let her colours fall,
She throws a dazzling glare alike on all;
As the gay Prism 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 ftorm to finking Virtue's groan,
Nor heeds a Friend's deftruction, or her own.
Let clear-ey'd Reafon at the helm prefide,
Bear to the wind, or ftem the furious tide;
Then Mirth may urge, when Reason can explore,
This point the way, that waft us glad to fhore.
Tho' diftant Times may rife in SATIRE's page,
Yet chief 'tis Her's to draw the present Age:
With Wisdom's luftre, Folly's fhade contrast,
And judge the reigning Manners by the past :
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;
When low-born Sharpers only dar'd a lie,
Or falfify'd the card, or cogg'd the die;
Ere Lewdness the ftain'd garb of Honour wore,
Or Chastity was carted for the Whore;
Vice flutter'd, in the plumes of freedom drefs'd;
Or public Spirit was the public jeft.
Be ever, in a juft expreffion, bold,
Yet ne'er degrade fair SATIRE to a Scold:
Let no unworthy mien her form debase,
But let her fmile, and let her frown with grace:
In mirth be temp'rate, temp'rate in her fpleen;
Nor, while fhe preaches modefty, obfcene.
Deep let her wound, not rankle to a fore,
Nor call his Lordship
The Mufe's charms refiftless then affail,
Deride not Vice: Abfurd the thought and vain,
To bind the Tiger in fo weak a chain.
Nay more: when flagrant crimes your laughter move,
The Knave exults: to fmile is to approve.
The Mufe's labour then fuccefs fhall crown,
When Folly feels her fmile, and Vice her frown.
Know next what Measures to each Theme belong, And suit your thoughts and numbers to your song: On wing proportion'd to your quarry rise, And stoop to earth, or foar among the skies. Thus when a modifh folly you rehearse, Free the expreffion, fimple be the verse.
In artless numbers paint th' ambitious Peer
That mounts the box, and fhines a Charioteer :
In ftrains familiar fing the midnight toil
Of Camps and Senates difciplin❜d by Hoyle;
Patriots and Chiefs, whofe deep defign invades
And carries off the captive King-of Spades!
Let SATIRE here in milder vigour fhine,
And gayly graceful sport along the line;
Bid courtly fashion quit her thin pretence,
And fmile each Affectation into fenfe.
Not fo when Virtue by her Guards betray'd,
Spurn'd from her Throne, implores the Mufe's aid:
When crimes, which erst in kindred darkness lay,
Rise frontless, and infult the eye of day;
Indignant Hymen veils his hallow'd fires,
And white-rob❜d Chastity with tears retires;
When rank Adultery on the genial bed
Hot from Cocytus rears her baleful head:
When private Faith and public Trust are fold,
And Traitors barter Liberty for Gold:
When fell Corruption, dark and deep, like fate,
Saps the foundation of a finking State:
When Giant-Vice and Irreligion rife,
On mountain'd falfehoods to invade the skies:
Then warmer numbers glow thro' SATIRE's page,
And all her smiles are darken'd into rage:
On eagle-wing fhe gains Parnaffus' height,
Not lofty EPIC foars a nobler flight:
Then keener indignation fires her eye;
Then flash her lightnings, and her thunders fly;
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