On the crack'd stage the bedlam heroes roar'd,
And scarce could speak one reasonable word :
Dryden himself, to please a frantic age,
Was forc'd to let his judgment stoop to rage:
To a wild audience he conform'd his voice,
Comply'd to custom, but not err'd by choice.

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felves. Nor can the poet whofe labours are his daily bread be delivered from this cruel neceffity, unless fome more certain encou ragement can be provided than the bare uncertain profits of a third day, and the theatre be put under fome more impartial management than the jurisdiction of players. Who write to live must unavoid ably comply with their tafte by whofe approbation they fubfift; fome generous prince, or prime minifter like Richlieu, can only find a remedy. In his epiftle dedicatory to The Spanish Friar, this incomparable poet thus cenfures himself:

"I remember fome verfes of my own Maximin and Almanzor "which cry vengeance upon me for their extravagance, &c. All "I can fay for those paffages, which are, I hope, not many, is, that "I knew they were bad enough to please even when I wrote them; "but I repent of them among my fins; and if any of their fellows "intrude by chance into my prefent writings, I draw a stroke over "thofe Dalilahs of the theatre, and am refolved I will settle myself "no reputation by the applaufe of fools: it is not that I am mor"tified to all ambition, but 1 fcorn as much to take it from half"witted judges as I fhould to raise an estate by cheating of bubbles: "neither do I difcommend the lofty ftyle in tragedy, which is pompous and magnificent; but nothing is truly fublime that is not juft " and proper."

This may ftand as an unanswerable apology for Mr. Dryden against his critics; and likewife for an unquestionable authority to confirm thofe principles which the foregoing poem pretends to lay down; for nothing can be juft and proper but what is built upon truth.

Deem then the people's, not the writer's, fin
Almanzor's rage and rants of Maximin:
That fury spent, in each elaborate piece

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He vies for fame with ancient Rome and Greece.
Firft Mulgrave rofe,Rofcommon next *, like light,
To clear our dark nefs, and to guide our flight; 110
With steady judgment, and in lofty founds,
They give us patterns, and they fet us bounds.
The Stagyrite and Horace laid afide,

Inform'd by them we need no foreign guide:
Who feek from poetry a lafting name,
May in their leffons learn the road to fame:
But let the bold adventurer be fure
That ev'ry line the teft of truth endure:
On this foundation may the fabric rife,
Firm and unfhaken, till it touch the skies.

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120

From pulpits banish'd, from the court, from love, Forfaken Truth feeks thelter in the grove:

Cherish, ye Mufes! the neglected fair,

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And take into your train the abandon'd wanderer.

*Earl of Mulgrave's Effay upon Poetry, and Lord Rofcommon's upon Tranflated Verfe.

THE RELIEF.

Of two reliefs to ease a love-fick mind,
Flavia prefcribes despair: I urge Be kind-
Flavia be kind; the remedy 's as fure;

'Tis the most pleasant, and the quickest cure.

DEFINITION OF LOVE.

Love is begot by Fancy, bred

By Ignorance, by Expectation fed,
Destroy'd by Knowledge, and at best
Loft in the moment 'tis poffeft.

FOR LIBERALITY.

THO' fafe thou think'ft thy treafure lies,
Hidden in chefts from human eyes,
A fire may come, and it may be
Bury'd, my friend, as far from thee.
Thy vessel that yon' ocean stems,
Loaded with golden duft and gems,
Purchas'd with fo much pains and coft,
Yet in a tempeft may be loft.

Pimps, whores, and bawds, a thankless crew,

Priefts, pickpockets, and lawyers too,

All help by feveral ways to drain,

The liberal are fecure alone,

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5

ΤΟ

Thanking themselves for what they gain.

For what we frankly give for ever is our own.

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A RECEIPT FOR VAPOURS.

"WHY pines my dear?" to Fulvia, his young bride, Who weeping fat, thus aged Cornus cry'd.

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[wife! 9

"Alas!" faid fhe, "fuch vifions break my reft,
"The ftrangeft thoughts! I think I am poffeft:
"My fymptoms I have told to men of skill,
"And if I would-they say—I might be well."
"Take their advice," faid he, "
my poor dear
"I'll buy at any rate thy precious life."
Blushing she would excufe, but all in vain ;
A doctor must be fetch'd to ease her pain. [Tom's,
Hard prefs'd, the yields. From White's, or Will's, or
No matter which, he 's fummon'd, and he comes.
The careful husband, with a kind embrace,
Entreats his care; then bows, and quits the place;
For little ailments oft' attend the fair
Not decent for a husband's eye or ear.
Something the dame would fay: the ready knight
Prevents her speech-" Here 's that shall set you
right,
[clofe;
"Madam," faid he-With that the door's made
He gives deliciously the healing dofe.

"Alas!" he cries; "ah me! O cruel cure!
"Did ever woman yet like me endure?"
The work perform'd, uprifing gay and light,
Old Cornus is call'd in to see the fight.
A fprightly red vermilions all her face,
And her eyes languish with unusual grace.

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25

With tears of joy fresh gufhing from his eyes, "O wondrous power of art!" old Cornus cries; "Amazing change! aftonishing fuccefs!

"Thrice happy I! what a brave Doctor's this!" 30 Maids, wives, and widows, with fuch whims opprest, May thus find certain ease-Probatum eft.

MRS. CLAVERING* SINGING.

WH

HEN We behold her angel face,

Or when the fings with heav'nly grace,

In what we hear or what we fee,
So ravishing's the harmony,

The melting foul, in rapture loft,

Knows not which charm enchants it moft.

Sounds that made hills and rocks rejoice,
Amphion's lute, the Syren's voice,
Wonders with pain receiv'd for true
At once find credit, and renew,

No charms like Clavering's voice furprise,

Except the magic of her eyes.

* Afterwards Lady Cowper.

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