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O while along the stream of Time thy Name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame ;
Says shall my little barque attendant sail,
Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale?
F the end and efficacy of Satire. The love of glory
and fear of fame universal, v. 29. This pafion, im-
planted in man as a Spur to virtue, is generally perverted, v.
41. And thus becomes the occasion of the greatest follies, vices,
and miseries, v. 61. It is the work of Satire to rectify this
pasion, to reduce it to its proper channel, and to convert it into
an incentive to wisdom and virtue, v. 89. Hence it appears
that Satire may influence those who defy all laws human and
divine, v. 99. An objection answered, v. 131.
Rules for the conduct of Satire. Justice and trutb its
chief and effential property, v. 169. Prudence in the appli-
cation of wit and ridicule, whole province is, not to explore
unknown, but to enforce known truths, V. 191. Proper sub-
jećts of Satire are the manners of present times, v. 239. Decency
of expreffion recommended, v. 255. The different methods in
which folly and vice ought to be chatised, v. 269. The va-
riety of file and manner which these two fubjects require, v.
277. The praise of virtue may be admitted with propriety,
v. 31.5. Caution with regard to panegyrick, v. 319. The
dignity of true Satire, v. 331.
The history of Satire. Roman Satirifts, Lucilius, Hc-
race, Perfius, Juvenal, v. 347, &c. .Caujes of the decay of
literature, particularly of Satire, v. 379. Revival of Sa-
tire, v. 391. Erasmus one of its principal restorers, v. 395.
Donne, v. 401. The abuse of Satire in England, during the
licentious reign of Charles II. v. 405. Dryden, v. 419.
The true.ends of Satire pursued by Boileau in France, v. 429;
and by Mr. Pope in England, v. 435.
gave the word; the cruel arrow sped;
And Pope lies number'd with the mighty dead!
Resign'd he fell superior to the dart,
That quench'd its rage in Yours and BRITAIN's heart :
You mourn: but BRITAIN, lull’d in rest profound,
(Unconscious Britain !) slumbers o'er her wound.
Exulting Dulness ey'd the setting light,
And flapp'd her wing, impatient for the night:
Rous'd at the signal, Guilt collects her train,
And counts the triumphs of her growing reign :
With inextinguishable rage they burn,
And snake-hung Envy hisses o'er his urn:
Th'envenom'd monsters fpit their deadly foam,
To blast the laurel that surrounds his tomb.
But You, O WARBURTON! whose eye refin'd
Can see the greatness of an honest mind;
Can see each virtue and each
unite, And taste the raptures of a pure delight; You visit oft his aweful
And view that bright assemblage treasur'd there;
You trace the chain that links his deep design,
And pour new luftre on the glowing line.
Yet deign to hear the efforts of a Muse,
Whose eye, not wing, his ardent flight pursues ;
Intent from this great archetype to draw
SATIRE's bright form, and fix her equal law ;
Pleas'd if from hence th' unlearn'd may comprehend,
And reverence His and Satire's generous end.
In ev'ry breast there burns an active flame,
The love of glory, or the dread of shame :
The paflion One, tho' various it appear,
As brighten'd into hope, or dimm'd by fear.
The lisping infant, and the hoary fire,
And youth and manhood feel the heart-born fire ;
The charms of praise the coy, the modest wooe,
And only fly, that glory may pursue :
She, pow'r refiftless, rules the wise and great;
Bends ev’n reluctant hermits at her feet :
Haunts the proud city, and the lowly shade,
And fways alike the scepter and the spade.
Thus heav’n in pity wakes the friendly flame,
To urge mankind on deeds that merit fame:
But man, vaia man, in folly only wise,
Rejects the manna sent him from the skies:
With rapture hears corrupted paffion's call,
Still proudly prone to mingle with the stall.
As each deceitful shadow tempts his view,
He for the imag'd substance quits the true :
Eager to catch the visionary prize,
In quest of glory plunges deep in vice;
Till madly zealous, impotently vain,
He forfeits ev'ry praise he pants to gain.
Thus still imperious Nature plies her parts
And still her dictates work in ev'ry heart.
Each pow'r that sov'reign Nature bids enjoy,
Man may corrupt, but man can ne'er destroy.
Like mighty rivers, with refiftless-force
The passions rage, obstructed in their course;
Swell to new heights, forbidden paths explore,
And drown those virtues which they fed before.