that little more was paid him than the Twenty Pounds a-Year, which were allow'd him by Mr. Pope, who propos'd the Subscription.

After fome Stay at Bristol he retir'd to Swanfea, the Place originally defign'd for his Refidence, where he liv'd about a Year, very much difsatisfied with the Diminution of his Salary.

Here he compleated his Tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, of which two Acts were wanting when he left London, and was defirous of coming to Town to bring it upon the Stage. This Defign was very warmly oppofed, and he was advis'd by his chief Benefactor to put it into the Hands of Mr. Thomfon and Mr. Mallet, that it might be fitted for the Stage, and to allow his Friends to receive the Profits, out of which an annual Perfion should be paid him.

This Propofal he rejected with the utmoft Contempt. He was by no Means convinc'd that the Judgment of those to whom he was required to submit, was fuperior to his own, and in a fhort Time afterwards he form'd a Refolution of leaving that Part of the Country.

He broke off all Correspondence with most of his Contributors, and more frequently reproach'd his Subscribers for not giving him more, than thank'd them for what he receiv'd; and grew petulant and contemptuous. Certainly he was reduc'd to live on a very little, and reflected with great Discontent on the fumptuous Fare and fine Company, he at Times us'd in London to partake of and with; not confidering, that the Fate of much greater Poets than he could ever pretend to have been, was oftentimes to have been neglected in their Wants and Diftreffes, and feldom or ever to meet with fuch frequent Reliefs as he himself had met with: Nor is any Thing fo precarious as the Favours of the Great; when VOL. II.

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they

they advance they advance flowly, and when they retire they retire faft. To this Purpose Mr. Pope had oftentimes reafon'd with him, and gave him into his Hand, under Pretence of defiring him to copy them, fome Verfes he had in the Year 1729 receiv'd from Dean Swift, which were call'd, Verfes to Dr. Delany, occafioned by his Epiftle to his Excellency, John Lord Carteret.

DE

ELUDED Mortals, whom the Great
Chufe for Companions tete a tete;
Who at their Dinners, en famille,
Get Leave to fit whene'r you will;
Then boafting tell us where you din'd,
And, how his Lordship was fo kind;
How many pleasant Things he spoke,
And, how you laugh'd at ev'ry Joke:
Swear he's a moft facetious Man;
That you and he are Cup and Cann.
You travel with a heavy Load,
And quite mistake Preferment's Road.

Suppofe my Lord and you alone;
Hint the leaft Int'reft of your own;
His Vifage drops, he knits his Brow,
He cannot talk of Bus'nefs now:
Or mention but a vacant Poft,
He'll turn it off with, Name your Toast.
Nor could the nicest Artift paint,
A Countenance with more Constraint.

For, as their Appetites to quench,
Lords keep a Pimp to bring a Wench;
So, Men of Wit are but a Kind
Of Pandars to a vicious Mind;
Who proper Objects must provide
To gratify their Luft of Pride,

When

When weary'd with Intrigues of State,
They find an idle Hour to prate.
Then, fhould you dare to afk a Place,
You forfeit all your Patron's Grace,
And difappoint the fole Design,
For which he fummon'd you to dine.

Thus, Congreve spent, in writing Plays,
And one poor Office, half his Days:
While Montague, who claim'd his Station
To be Mecenas of the Nation,
For Peets open Table kept,
But ne'er confider'd where they flept:
Himself, as rich as fifty Jews,
Was eafy, though they wanted Shoes;
And, crazy Congreve fcarce cou'd fpare
A Shilling to difcharge his Chair;
Till Prudence taught him to appeal
From Paan's Fire to Party Zeal;
Not owing to his happy Vein
The Fortunes of his latter Scene;
Took proper Principles to thrive;
And fo might every Dunce alive.

Thus, Steel who own'd what others writ,
And flourish'd by imputed Wit,
From Perils of a hundred Jayls,
Withdrew to starve, and die in Wales.

Thus Gay, the Hare with many Friends,
Twice fev'n long Years, the Court attends:
Who, under Tales conveying Truth,
To Virtue form'd a princely Youth:
Who paid his Courtship with the Croud,
As far as modifh Pride allow'd;
Rejects a fervile Ufher's Place,
And leaves St. James's in Difgrace.

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See his Fables,

Thus

Thus Addifon, by Lords careft,
Was left in foreign Lands diftreft ;
Forgot at home, become for Hire,
A trav❜lling Tutor to a Squire.
But, wifely left the Mufes Hill:
To Bus'nefs fhap'd the Poet's Quill,
Let all his barren Lawrels fade:
Took up himself the Courtier's Trade:
And grown a Minifter of State,
Saw Poets at his Levee wait.

;

Hail happy Pope, whose gen'rous Mind,
Detefting all the Statesman Kind!
Contemning Courts, at Courts unfeen,
Refus'd the Vifits of a Queen;
A Soul with ev'ry Virtue fraught,
By Sages, Priefts, or Poets taught:
Whose filial piety excels
Whatever Grecian Story tells;
A Genius for all Stations fit,
Whose meanest Talent is his Wit:
His Heart too great, though Fortune little,
To lick a Rafcal Statefman's Spittle;
Appealing to the Nation's Taste,
Above the Reach of Want is plac'd:
By Homer dead was taught to thrive,
Which Homer never cou'd alive :
And fits aloft on Pindus Head,
Defpifing Slaves that cringe for Bread.
True Politicians only pay

For folid Work, but not for Play;
Nor ever chufe to work with Tools
Forg'd up in Colleges and Schools.
Confider how much more is due
To all their Journeymen, than you.
At Table you can Horace quote ;
They at a Pinch can bribe a Vote :

You

You fhew your Skill in Grecian Story,
But they can manage Whig and Tory:
You, as a Critick, are fo curious
To find a Verfe in Virgil fpurious;
But, they can smoke the deep Defigns,
When Bolinbroke with Pult'ney dines.

Befides, your Patron may upbraid ye,
That you have got a Place already :
An Office for your Talents fit,
To flatter, carve, and fhew your Wit;
To fnuff the Lights and ftir the Fire,
And
get a Dinner for
your Hire.
What Claim have you to Place or Penfion?
He overpays in Condefcenfion.

But, Rev'rend Doctor, you, we know,
Cou'd never condefcend fo low:
The Vice Roy, whom you now attend
Wou'd, if he durft, be more your Friend :
Nor will in you thofe Gifts defpife,
By which himself was taught to rife;
When he has Virtue to retire,
He'll grieve he did not raise you higher,
And place you in a better Station,
Although it might have pleas'd the Nation.
This may be true-fubmitting still
To W more than Royal Will.
And what Condition can be worse?
He comes to drain a Beggar's Purfe :
He comes to tie our Chains on fafter,
And fhew us England is our Master:
Careffing Knaves, and Dunces wooing,
To make them work their own undoing.
What has he elfe to bait his Traps,
Or bring his Vermin in, but Scraps?.

The Offals of a Church diftreft,
A hungry Vicarage at beft;

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