HORACE, BOOK III. ODE II.

TO THE EARL OF OXFORD, LATE LORD TREasurer.
SENT TO HIM WHEN IN THE TOWER, 1617.

How blest is he who for his country dies,
Since Death pursues the coward as he flies!
The youth in vain would fly from fate's attack,
With trembling knees and terrour at his back;
Though fear should lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet swifter fate will seize him from behind.

Virtue repuls'd, yet knows not to repine,
But shall with unattainted honour shine;
Nor stoops to take the staff*, nor lays it down,
Just as the rabble please to smile or frown.

Virtue, to crown her favourites, loves to try
Some new unbeaten passage to the sky;
Where Jove a seat among the gods will give
To those who die for meriting to live.

Next, faithful silence hath a sure reward;
Within our breast be every secret barr'd!
He who betrays his friend, shall never be
Under one roof, or in one ship, with me.
For who with traitors would his safety trust,
Lest, with the wicked, Heaven involve the just?
And, though the villain 'scape awhile, he feels
Slow vengeance, like a blood-hound, at his heels.

MRS. HARRIS'S PETITION.

1699.

To their excellencies the lords justices of Ireland †,
the humble petition of Frances Harris,
Who must starve, and die a maid, if it miscarries;

Humbly showeth,

So, when I came up again, I found my pocket feel
very light:

But when I search'd, and miss'd my purse, Lord!
I thought I should have sunk outright.
Lord! madam, says Mary, how d' ye do? Indeed,
says I, never worse:

But pray, Mary, can you tell what I have done
with my purse?

Lord help me! said Mary, I never stirr'd out of this place:

Nay, said I, I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, that's a plain case.

So Mary got me to bed and cover'd me up warm: However, she stole away my garters, that I might do myself no harm.

So I tumbled and tcss'd all night, as you may very well think,

But hardly ever set my eyes together, or slept a wink.

So I was a-dream'd, methought, that we went and search'd the folks round,

And in a corner of Mrs. Dukes's box, ty'd in a rag, the money was found.

So next morning we told Whittle †, and he fell a-swearing:

Then my dame Wadger ‡ came; and she, you know, is thick of hearing.

Dame, said I, as loud as I could bawl, do you know what a loss I have had?

Nay, said she, my Lord Colway's § folks are all very sad;

For my Lord Dromedary || comes a Tuesday without fail.

Pugh! said I, but that 's not the business that I ail, Says Cary, says he, I have been a servant this five and twenty years, come spring,

And in all the places I liv'd, I never heard of such a thing.

Yes, says the steward **, I remember, when I was at my Lady Shrewsbury's,

Such a thing as this happen'd just about the time of gooseberries.

cham-So I went to the party suspected, and I found her full of grief,

That I went to warm myself in Lady Betty's
ber, because I was cold;
And I had in a purse seven pounds, four shillings,
and sixpence, besides farthings, in money
and gold:

So, because I had been buying things for my lady
last night,

I was resolv'd to tell my money, to see if it was right.

Now, you must know, because my trunk has a very bad lock,

Therefore all the money I have, which, God knows, is a very small stock,

I keep in my pocket, ty'd about my middle, next to my smock.

So when I went to put up my purse, as God would have it, my smock was unript,

And, instead of putting it into my pocket, down it slipt;

Then the bell rung, and I went down to put my lady to bed;

And, God knows, I thought my money was as safe as my maidenhead.

• The ensign of the lord treasurer's office. The Earls of Berkeley and of Galway. Lady Betty Berkeley, afterwards Germaine.

(Now, you must know, of all things in the world, I hate a thief.)

However, I am resolv'd to bring the discourse slily

Hard exercise and harder fare

Soon make my dame grow lank and spare:
Her body light, she tries her wings,
And scorns the ground, and upward springs;
While all the parish, as she flies,
Hear sounds harmonious from the skies.
Such is the poet fresh in pay
(The third night's profits of his play);
His morning-draughts till noon can swill
Among his brethren of the quill:
With good roast beef his belly full,
Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull,
Deep sunk in plenty and delight,
What poet e'er could take his flight?

The steed, oppress'd, would break his girth,
To raise the lumber from the Earth.
But view him in another scene,
When all his drink is Hippocrene,
His money spent, his patrons fail,
His credit out for cheese and ale;
His two-years' coat so smooth and bare,
Through every thread it lets in air;
With hungry meals his body pin'd,
His guts and belly full of wind;
And, like a jockey for a race,

醫醫

Or, stuff'd with phlegm up to the throat,
What poet e'er could sing a note?
Nor Pegasus could bear the load
Along the high celestial road;

His flesh brought down to flying case:
Now his exalted spirit loaths
Encumbrances of food and clothes;
And up he rises, like a vapour,
Supported high on wings of paper;
He singing flies, and flying sings,
While from below all Grub-street rings.

JAMES THOMSON.

JAME

66

During the

AMES THOMSON, a distinguished British poet, stage of Drury-lane, his tragedy of " Sophonisha." born at Ednam, near Kelso, in Scotland, in 1700, It was succeeded by "Agamemnon;" "Edward was one of the nine children of the Rev. Mr. and Eleonora ;" and "Tancred and Sigismunda :" Thomson, minister of that place. James was sent but although these pieces were not without their to the school of Jedburgh, where he attracted the merits, the moral strain was too prevalent for the notice of a neighbouring minister by his propen-public taste, and they have long ceased to occupy the sity to poetry, who encouraged his early attempts, theatre. Through the recommendation of Dr. and corrected his performances. On his removal Rundle, he was, about 1729, selected as the trave from school, he was sent to the university of Edin-ling associate of the Hon. Mr. Talbot, eldest son of burgh, where he chiefly attended to the cultivation the Chancellor, with whom he visited most of the of his poetical faculty; but the death of his father, courts of the European continent. during his second session, having brought his mother tour, the idea of a poem on Liberty" suggested to Edinburgh for the purpose of educating her itself, and after his return, he employed two years children, James complied with the advice of his in its completion. The place of secretary of the friends, and entered upon a course of divinity. briefs, which was nearly a sinecure, repaid him for Here, we are told, that the explanation of a psalm his attendance on Mr. Talbot. "Liberty" at length having been required from him as a probationary appeared, and was dedicated to Frederic, Prince of exercise, he performed it in language so splendid, Wales, who, in opposition to the court, affected the that he was reproved by his professor for employing patronage of letters, as well as of liberal sentiments a diction which it was not likely that any one of his in politics. He granted Thomson a pension, to future audience could comprehend. This admo- remunerate him for the loss of his place by the nition completed the disgust which he felt for the death of Lord-chancellor Talbot. In 1746, approfession chosen for him; and having connected peared his poem, called "The Castle of Indolence," himself with some young men in the university who which had been several years under his polishing were aspirants after literary eminence, he readily hand, and by many is considered as his principal listened to the advice of a lady, the friend of his performance. He was now in tolerably affluent mother, and determined to try his fortune in the circumstances, a place of Surveyor-general of the great metropolis, London. Leeward Islands, given him by Mr. Lyttleton, bringing him in, after paying a deputy, about SOC a year. He did not, however, long enjoy this state of comfort; for returning one evening from Londo to Kew-lane, he was attacked by a fever, which proved fatal in August 1748, the 48th year of his He was interred without any memorial is Richmond church; but a monument was erected to his memory, in Westminster Abbey, in 1762, with the profits arising from an edition of his works published by Mr. Millar.

It age.

In 1725 Thomson came by sea to the capital, where he soon found out his college acquaintance, Mallet, to whom he showed his poem of " Winter,' then composed in detached passages of the descriptive kind. Mallet advised him to form them into a connected piece, and immediately to print it. was purchased for a small sum, and appeared in 1726, dedicated to Sir Spencer Compton. Its merits, however, were little understood by the public; till Mr. Whateley, a person of acknowledged taste, happening to cast an eye upon it, was struck with its beauties, and gave it vogue. His dedicatee, who had hitherto neglected him, made him a present of twenty guineas, and he was introduced to Pope, Bishop Rundle, and Lord-chancellor Talbot. In 1727, he published another of his seasons, "Summer," dedicated to Mr. Doddington, for it was still the custom for poets to pay this tribute to men in power. In the same year he gave to the public his "Poem, sacred to the memory of Sir Isaac Newton," and his 66 Britannia.' His "Spring" was published in 1728, addressed to the Countess of Hertford; and the Seasons were completed by the addition of "Autumn," dedicated to Mr. Onslow, in 1730, when they were published collectively.

As nothing was more tempting to the cupidity of an author than dramatic composition, Thomson resolved to become a competitor for that laurel also, and in 1728, he had the influence to bring upon the

Thomson in person was large and ungainly, t a heavy, unanimated countenance, and having nothing in his appearance in mixed society in cating the man of genius or refinement. He was however, easy and cheerful with select friends, tr whom he was singularly beloved for the kindness of his heart, and his freedom from all the malignant passions which too often debase the literary cha racter. His temper was much inclined to indolence, and he was fond of indulgence of every kirasi; in particular he was more attached to the pleasures of sense, than the sentimental delicacy of his writings would induce a reader to suppose. For the moral tendency of his works, no author has deserved more praise; and no one can rise from the perusal of be pages, without being sensible of a melioration of tis principles or feelings.

The poetical merits of Thomson, undoubted's stand most conspicuous in his Seasons, the first lorf

composition, perhaps, of which natural description | tion to his fame has principally arisen from his
was made the staple, and certainly the most fertile "Castle of Indolence," an allegorical composition
of grand and beautiful delineations, in great mea- in the manner and stanza of Spenser, and among the
sure deduced from the author's own observation. imitators of this poet, Thomson may deserve the pre-
Its diction is somewhat cumbrous and laboured, but ference, on account of the application of his fable,
energetic and expressive. Its versification does not and the moral and descriptive beauties by which it
denote a practised ear, but is seldom unpleasantly is filled up. This piece is entirely free from the
harsh. Upon the whole, no poem has been more, stiffness of language perceptible in the author's
and more deservedly, popular; and it has exerted blank verse, which is also the case with many of his
a powerful influence upon public taste, not only in songs, and other rhymed poems.
this country, but throughout Europe. Any addi-