Dr. Young Their want of edge from their offence is feen;
Both pain us leaft when exquifitely keen.
The fame, men give, is for the joy they find,
Dull is the jefter, when the joke's unkind.
Since MARCUS doubtlefs thinks himself a wit
To pay my compliment, what place fo fit?
His moft facetious *) letters came to hand,
Which my
First Satire sweetly reprimand:
If that a just offence to Marcus gave
Say, Marcus, which art thou, a Fool, or Knave?
For all but fuch with caution I forbore;
That thou waft either, I ne'er knew before:
I know thee now, both what thou art, and who;
No maik fo good, but Marcus muft fhine through:
Falfe names are vain, thy lines their author tell;
Thy heft concealment had been writing well;
Bút thou a brave neglect of fame haft fhown,
Of others' fame, great genius! and thy own.
Write on unheeded, and this maxim know:
The man who pardons, difappoints his foe.
In malice to proud wits, fome proudly full
Their peevish reafon; vain of being dull
When fome home joke has ftung their folemn fouls
In vengeance they determine to be fools;
Through fpleen, that little nature gave, make less
Quite zealous in the ways of heaviness;
To lumps inanimate a fondness take;
And difinherit fons that are awake.
Thefe, when their utmost venom they would fpit,
Moft barbaroufly tell you,,He's a wit."
Poor negroes, thus, to fhew their burning fpite
To cacodaemons, fay, they're dev'tish white.
LAMPRIDIUS from the bottom of his breaft
Sighs o'er one child, but triumphs in the reft.
How juft his grief? one carries in his head
A lefs proportion of the father's lead;
*) Letters fent to the author, figned MARCUS.
And is in danger, without fpecial grace,
To rife above a juftice of the peace.
The dunghill breed of men a diamond scorn,
And feel a paffion for a grain of corn:
Some ftupid, plodding, money-loving wight
Who wins their hearts by knowing black from white;
Who with much pains, exerting all his fenfe,
Can range aright his fhillings, pounds, and pence
The booby-father craves a booby-fon;
And by heav'n's blessing thinks himself undone.
Wants of all kinds are made to fame a plea;
One learns to lifp; another, not to fee:
Mifs D, tottering, catches at your hand:
Was ever thing fo pretty born to ftand?
Whilft thefe what nature gave; difown, through
pridé
Others affect, what nature has deny'd,
What nature has deny'd fools will pursue:
apes are ever walking upon two:
CRASSUS, a grateful fage, our awe and fport!
Supports grave forms: for forms the fage fupport.
He hems and cries with an important air,
,,If yonder clouds withdraw; it will be fair: ".
Then quotes the Stagyrite, to prove it true;
And adds, the learn'd delight in fomething new.
Is't not enough the blockhead fcarce can read,
But muft he wifely look, and gravely plead?
As far a formalift from wisdom fits
In judging eyes, as libertines from wits.
Thefe fubtle wights (fo blind are mortal men,
Though fatire couch them with her keenest pen)
For ever will hang out a folemn face
To put off nonsense with a better grace:
As pedlars with fome hero's head make bold,
Illuftrious mark! where pins are to be fold.
What's the bent brow, or neck in thought reclin'd?
The body's wisdom to conceal the mind.
A man of fenfe can artifice disdain;
As men of wealth may venture to go plain:
Dr. Young. And be this truth eternal ne'er forgot,
Solemnity's a cover for a fot.
I find the fool, when I behold the fkreen;
For 'tis the wife man's intereft to be feen.
Hence, that openness of heart,
And juft disdain for that poor mimic art;
Hence (manly praife!) that manner nobly free,
Which all admire, and I commend, in thee.
With generous fcorn how oft haft thou survey'd
Of court and town the noontide masquerade;
Where fwarms of knaves the vizor quite disgrace,
And hide fecure behind a naked face?
Where nature's end of language is declin'd
And men talk only to conceal the mind;
Where gen'rous hearts the greatest hazard run,
And he who trufts a brother, is undone?
These all their care expend on outward show
For wealth and fame; for fame alone, the beau.
Of late at WHITE's *) was young FLORELLO seen!-
How blank his look? how difcompof'd his mien?
So hard it proves in grief fincere to feign!
Sunk were his fpirits, for his coat was plain.
Next day his breaft regain'd its wonted peace;
His health was mended with a filver lace.
A curious artift, long inur'd to toils
Of gentler fort, with combs and fragrant oils,
Whether by chance, or by fome god infpir'd,
So touch'd his curls, his mighty foul was fir'd.
The well-fwoln ties an equal homage claim,
And either fhoulder has its fhare of fame;
His fumptuous watch-cafe, tho' conceal'd it lies,
Like a good confcience folid joy fupplies.
He only thinks himfelf (fo far from vain!)
ST-PE **) in wit, in breeding D-L-NE. ***)
*) A Coffee-house.
**) Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield.
***) Lord Deloraine.
Whene'er, by feeming chance, he throws his eye
On mirrors that reflect his Tyrian dye,
With how fublime a tranfport leaps his heart?
But fate ordains that dearest friends must part,
In active measures, brought from France, he wheels
And triumphs, confcious of his learned heels.
So have I feen, on fome bright fummer's day,
A calf of genius, debonnair and gay,'
Dance on the bank, as if infpir'd by fame
Fond of the pretty fellow in the stream,
MOROSE is funk with fhame, whene'er surpris'd
In linen clean, or peruke undisguis'd.
No fublunary chance his veftments fear;
Valu'd, like leopards, as their spots appear
A fam'd furtout he wears, which once was blue,
And his foot fwims in a capacious fhoe:
One day his wife (for who can wives reclaim?)
Levell'd her barb'rous needle at his fame:
But open force was vain; by night fhe went,
And, while he flept, furpris'd the darling rent:
Where yawn'd the frieze is now become a doubt;
And glory, at one entrance, quite fhut out. *)
He fcorns Florello, and Florello him:
This hates the filthy creature, that, the prim:
Thus, in each other, both these fools despise
Their own dear felves, with undifcerning eyes;
Their methods various, but alike their aim;
The floven and the fopling are the fame.
Ye whigs and tories! thus it fares with you
When party-rage too warmly you pursue;
Then both club nonfenfe, and impetuous pride,
And folly joins whom fentiments divide
You vent your fpleen, as monkeys, when they pass
Scratch at the mimic monkey in the glafs;
While both are one: and henceforth be it known
Fools of both fides fhall ftand for fools alone.
Dr.Noung. But who art Thou? (methinks FLORELLO Cries)
Of all thy fpecies art Thou only wife?"
Since fmalleft things can give our fins a twitch
As croffing ftraws retard a paffing witch,
FLORELI O, thou my monitor fhalt be;
I'll conjure thus fome profit out of thee.
O Thou myself! abroad our counfels roam
And, lihe ill husbands, take no care at home.
Thou too art wounded with the common dart,
And love of fame lies throbbing at thy heart;
And what wife means to gain it haft thou chofe?
Know, fame and fortune, both are made of profe
Is thy ambition fweating for a rhyme,
Thou unambitious fool at this late time?
While I a moment name, a moment's paft;
I'm nearer death in this verse, than the last.
What then is to be done? Be wife with speed;
A fool at forty is a fool indeed.
And what fo foolish as the chace of fame
How vain the prize! how impotent our aim!
For what are men who grafp at praise fublime
But bubbles on the rapid ftream of time,
That rife, and fall, that fwell, and are no more:
Born, and forgot, ten thousand in an hour!
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