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Lov'd without youth, and follow'd without power;
BOOK I. EPISTLE VI.
TO MR. MURRAY.
This piece is the most finished of all his imitations, and executed in the high manner the Italian painters call con amove: by which they mean the exertion of that principle which puts the faculties on the stretch, and produces the supreme degree of excellence. For the poet had all the warmth of affection for the great lawyer to whom it is addressed; and, indeed, no man ever more deserved to have a poet for his friend. In the obtaining of which, as neither vanity, party, nor fear had any share, so he supported his title to it by all the offices of true friendship.
OT to admire, is all the art I know,
'To make men happy, and to keep them so.' (Plain truth, dear Murray, needs no flowers o speech,
So take it in the very words of Creech)*
Admire we then what earth's low entrails
Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold;
If weak the pleasure that from these can spring,
Go then, and if you can, admire the state Of beaming diamonds, and reflected plate; Procure a taste to double the surprise, And gaze on Parian charms with learned eyes: Be struck with bright brocade, or Tynan dye. Our birth-day nobles' splendid livery. If not so pleas'd, at council-board rejoice To see their judgements hang upon thy voice; From morn to night, at -senate, rolls, and hall, Plead much, read more, dine late, or not at all. But wherefore all this labour, all this strife? For fame, for riches, for a noble wife? Shall one whom nature, learning, birth conspir'd To form not to admire but be admir'd, Sigh while his Chloe, blind to wit and worth, Weds the rich dulness of some son of earth? Yet time ennobles, or degrades each line; It brighten'd Craggs's, and may darken thine: And what is fame? the meanest have their day • The greatest can but blank; and pass away. Grac'd as thou art, with all the power of words, So known, so uonour'd, at the house of lords:
Conspicnous scene! another yet is nigh
Rack'd with sciatica, martyr'd with the stone,
But art thou one, whom new opinions sway? One who believes as Tindal leads the way, Who virtue and a church alike disowns, Thinks that but words, and this but brick and stones? Fly then on all the wings of wild desire, Admire whate'er the maddest can admire. Is wealth thy passion? Hence! from pole to pole, Where winds can carry, or where waves can roll; For Indian spices, for Peruvian gold, Prevent the greedy, or outhid the bold: Advance thy golden mountain to the skies; On the broad base of fifty thousand rise, . . Add one round hundred, and (if that's not fair) Add fifty more, and bring it to a square: For, mark th' advantage ; just so many score, Will gain a wife with half as many more, Procure her beanty, make that beanty chaste, And then such friends—as cannot fail to last* A man of wealth is dubb'd a man of worth, Venus shall give him form, and Anstis birth. (Believe me, many a German prince is worse, Who prond of pedigree is poor of purse). His wealth brave Timon gloriously confounds; Ask for a groat, he gives a hundred pounds; Or if three ladies like a luckless play, Tales the whole bouse upon the poet's day.
"Now, in such exigencies not to need,
Upon my word, you must be rich indeed;
A noble superfluity it craves,
Not for yourself, but for your fools and knaves;
Something, which for your honour they may cheat
And which it much becomes you to forget.
If wealth alone then make and keep us blest,
Still, still be getting, never, never rest.
But if to power and place your passion lie,
Instructed thus, you bow, embrace, protest,
Or if your life be one continued treat,
Or shall we every decency confound; [round?