THE CONFERENCE.
[]GRACE ſaid in form, which Sceptics muſt agree,
When they are told that Grace was ſaid by Me;
The Servants gone, to break the ſcurvy jeſt
On the proud Landlord, and his thread-bare gueſt;
The King gone round, my Lady too withdrawn,
My Lord, in uſual taſte, began to yawn,
And lolling backward in his Elbow-chair,
With an inſipid kind of ſtupid ſtare,
[2]Picking his teeth, twirling his ſeals about —
CHURCHILL, You have a Poem coming out.
You've my beſt wiſhes; but I really fear
Your Muſe in general is too ſevere,
Her Spirit ſeems her int'reſt to oppoſe,
And, where She makes one friend, makes twenty foes.
C. Your Lordſhip's fears are juſt, I feel their force,
But only feel it as thing of courſe.
The Man, whoſe hardy Spirit ſhall engage
To laſh the vices of a guilty age,
At his firſt ſetting forward ought to know,
That ev'ry rogue he meets muſt be his foe,
That the rude breath of Satire will provoke
Many who feel, and more who fear the ſtroke.
But ſhall the partial rage of ſelfiſh men
From ſtubborn Juſtice wrench the righteous pen,
Or ſhall I not my ſettled courſe purſue,
Becauſe my foes, are foes to Virtue too?
L. What is this boaſted Virtue, taught in Schools,
And idly drawn from antiquated rules?
What is her Uſe? point out one wholeſome end?
Will She hurt foes, or can She make a Friend?
[3]When from long faſts fierce appetites ariſe,
Can this ſame Virtue ſtifle Nature's cries?
Can She the pittance of a meal afford,
Or bid thee welcome to one great Man's board?
When Northern winds the rough December arm
With froſt and ſnow, can Virtue keep thee warm?
Canſt Thou diſmiſs the hard unfeeling Dun
Barely by ſaying, Thou art Virtue's Son?
Or by baſe blund'ring Stateſmen ſent to jail,
Will MANSFIELD take this Virtue for thy bail?
Believe it not, the Name is in diſgrace,
Virtue and TEMPLE now are out of place.
Quit then this Meteor, whoſe deluſive ray
From wealth and honour leads thee far aſtray.
True Virtue means, let Reaſon uſe her eyes,
Nothing with Fools, and Int'reſt with the Wiſe.
Would'ſt Thou be great, her patronage diſclaim,
Nor madly triumph in ſo mean a name:
Let nobler wreaths thy happy brows adorn,
And leave to Virtue poverty and ſcorn.
Let Prudence be thy guide; who doth not know
How ſeldom Prudence can with Virtue go?
[4]To be Succeſsful try thy utmoſt force,
And Virtue follows as a thing of courſe.
HIRCO, who knows not HIRCO, ſtains the bed
Of that kind Maſter who firſt gave him bread,
Scatters the ſeeds of diſcord thro' the land,
Breaks ev'ry public, ev'ry private band,
Beholds with joy a truſting friend undone,
Betrays a Brother, and would cheat a Son:
What mortal in his ſenſes can endure
The name of HIRCO, for the wretch is poor?
"Let him hang, drown, ſtarve, on a dunghill rot,
"By all deteſted live, and die forgot;
"Let him, a poor return, in ev'ry breath
"Feel all death's pains, yet be whole years in death,"
Is now the gen'ral cry we all purſue;
Let FORTUNE change, and PRUDENCE changes too,
Supple and pliant a new ſyſtem feels,
Throws up her Cap, and ſpaniels at his heels,
Long live Great HIRCO, cries, by int'reſt taught,
And let his foes, tho' I prove one, be nought.
C. Peace to ſuch Men, if ſuch Men can have peace,
Let their Poſſeſſions, let their State increaſe,
[5]Let their baſe ſervices in Courts ſtrike root,
And in the ſeaſon bring forth golden fruit,
I envy not; let thoſe who have the will,
And, with ſo little Spirit, ſo much ſkill,
With ſuch vile inſtruments their fortunes carve;
Rogues may grow fat, an Honeſt man dares ſtarve.
L. Theſe ſtale conceits thrown off, let us advance
For once to real life, and quit Romance.
Starve! pretty talking! but I fain would view
That man, that honeſt man would do it too.
Hence to Yon Mountain which outbraves the ſky,
And dart from pole to pole thy ſtrengthen'd eye,
Thro' all that ſpace You ſhall not view one man,
Not one, who dares to act on ſuch a plan.
Cowards in calms will ſay, what in a ſtorm
The Brave will tremble at, and not perform.
Thine be the Proof, and, ſpite of all You've ſaid,
You'd give Your Honour for a cruſt of bread.
C. What Proof might do, what Hunger might effect,
What famiſh'd Nature, looking with neglect
On all She once held dear, what Fear, at ſtrife
With fainting Virtue for the means of life,
[6]Might make this coward fleſh, in love with breath,
Shudd'ring at pain, and ſhrinking back from death,
In treaſon to my ſoul, deſcend to bear,
Truſting to Fate, I neither know, nor care,
Once, at this hour thoſe wounds afreſh I feel,
Which nor Proſperity nor Time can heal,
Thoſe wounds, which Fate ſeverely hath decreed,
Mention'd or thought of, muſt for ever bleed,
Thoſe wounds, which humbled all that pride of Man,
Which brings ſuch mighty aid to Virtue's plan;
Once, aw'd by Fortune's moſt oppreſſive frown,
By legal rapine to the earth bow'd down,
My Credit at laſt gaſp, my State undone,
Trembling to meet the ſhock I could not ſhun,
Virtue gave ground, and blank deſpair prevail'd;
Sinking beneath the ſtorm, my Spirits fail'd,
Like PETER's Faith, 'till One, a Friend indeed,
May all diſtreſs find ſuch in time of need,
One kind good Man, in act, in word, in thought,
By Virtue guided, and by Wiſdom taught,
Image of him whom Chriſtians ſhould adore,
Stretch'd forth his hand, and brought me ſafe to ſhore.
[7]
Since, by good fortune into notice rais'd,
And for ſome little merit largely prais'd,
Indulg'd in ſwerving from Prudential rules,
Hated by Rogues, and not belov'd by Fools,
Plac'd above want, ſhall abject thirſt of wealth
So fiercely war 'gainſt my Soul's deareſt health,
That, as a boon, I ſhould baſe ſhackles crave,
And, born to Freedom, make myſelf a ſlave;
That I ſhould in the train of thoſe appear,
Whom Honour cannot love, nor Manhood fear?
That I no longer ſkulk from ſtreet to ſtreet,
Afraid leaſt Duns aſſail, and Bailiffs meet;
That I from place to place this carcaſe bear,
Walk forth at large, and wander free as air;
That I no longer dread the aukward friend,
Whoſe very obligations muſt offend,
Nor, all too froward, with impatience burn
At ſuff'ring favours which I can't return;
That, from dependance and from pride ſecure,
I am not plac'd ſo high to ſcorn the poor,
Nor yet ſo low, that I my Lord ſhould fear,
Or heſitate to give him ſneer for ſneer;
[8]That, whilſt ſage Prudence my purſuits confirms,
I can enjoy the world on equal terms;
That, kind to others, to myſelf moſt true,
Feeling no want, I comfort thoſe who do,
And with the will have pow'r to aid diſtreſs;
Theſe, and what other bleſſings I poſſeſs,
From the indulgence of the PUBLIC riſe;
All private Patronage my Soul defies.
By Candour more inclin'd to ſave, than damn,
A gen'rous PUBLIC made me what I Am.
All that I have, They gave; juſt Mem'ry bears,
The grateful ſtamp, and what I am is Theirs.
L. To feign a red-hot zeal for freedom's cauſe,
To mouthe aloud for liberties and laws,
For Public good to bellow all abroad,
Serves well the purpoſes of private fraud.
Prudence, by Public good intends her own;
If You mean otherwiſe, You ſtand alone.
What do we mean by Country and by Court,
What is it to Oppoſe, what to Support?
Mere words of courſe, and what is more abſurd
Than to pay homage to an empty word!
[9]MAJORS and MINORS differ but in name,
Patriots and Miniſters are much the ſame;
The only diff'rence, after all their rout,
Is that the One is in, the Other out.
Explore the dark receſſes of the mind,
In the Soul's honeſt volume read mankind,
And own, in wiſe and ſimple, great and ſmall,
The ſame grand leading Principle in All.
Whate'er we talk of wiſdom to the wiſe,
Of goodneſs to the good, of public ties
Which to our country link, of private bands
Which claim moſt dear attention at our hands,
For Parent and for Child, for Wife and Friend,
Our firſt great Mover, and our laſt great End,
Is One, and, by whatever name we call
The ruling Tyrant, SELF is All in All.
This, which unwilling Faction ſhall admit,
Guided in diff'rent ways a BUTE and PITT,
Made Tyrants break, made Kings obſerve the law,
And gave the world a STUART and NASSAU.
Hath Nature (ſtrange and wild conceit of Pride)
Diſtinguiſh'd thee from all her ſons beſide?
[10]Doth Virtue in thy boſom brighter glow,
Or from a Spring more pure doth Action flow?
Is not thy Soul bound with thoſe very chains
Which ſhackle us, or is that SELF, which reigns
O'er Kings and Beggars, which in all we ſee
Moſt ſtrong and ſov'reign, only weak in Thee?
Fond man, believe it not; Experience tells
'Tis not thy Virtue, but thy Pride rebels.
Think, and for once lay by thy lawleſs pen;
Think, and confeſs thyſelf like other men;
Think but one hour, and, to thy Conſcience led
By Reaſon's hand, bow down and hang thy head;
Think on thy private life, recal thy Youth,
View thyſelf now, and own with ſtricteſt truth,
That SELF hath drawn Thee from fair Virtue's way
Farther than Folly would have dar'd to ſtray,
And that the talents lib'ral Nature gave
To make thee free, have made thee more a ſlave.
Quit then, in prudence quit, that idle train
Of toys, which have ſo long abus'd thy brain,
And captive led thy pow'rs; with boundleſs will
Let SELF maintain her ſtate and empire ſtill,
[11]But let her, with more worthy objects caught,
Strain all the faculties and force of thought
To things of higher daring; let her range
Thro' better paſtures, and learn how to change;
Let her, no longer to weak faction tied,
Wiſely revolt, and join our ſtronger ſide.
C. Ah! what, my Lord, hath private life to do
With things of public Nature? why to view
Would You thus cruelly thoſe ſcenes unfold,
Which, without pain and horror to behold,
Muſt ſpeak me ſomething more, or leſs than man;
Which Friends may pardon, but I never can?
Look back! a Thought which borders on deſpair,
Which human Nature muſt, yet cannot bear.
'Tis not the babbling of a buſy world,
Where Praiſe and Cenſure are at random hurl'd,
Which can the meaneſt of my thoughts controul,
Or ſhake one ſettled purpoſe of my Soul.
Free and at large might their wild curſes roam,
If All, if All alas! were well at home.
No—'tis the tale which angry Conſcience tells,
When She with more than tragic horror ſwells
[12]Each circumſtance of guilt; when ſtern, but true,
She brings bad actions forth into review;
And, like the dread hand-writing on the wall,
Bids late Remorſe awake at Reaſon's call,
Arm'd at all points bids Scorpion Vengeance paſs,
And to the mind holds up Reflexion's glaſs,
The mind, which ſtarting, heaves the heart-felt groan,
And hates that form She knows to be her own.
Enough of this—let private ſorrows reſt—
As to the Public I dare ſtand the teſt;
Dare proudly boaſt, I feel no wiſh above
The good of ENGLAND, and my Country's love.
Stranger to Party-rage, by Reaſon's voice,
Unerring guide, directed in my choice,
Not all the tyrant pow'rs of earth combin'd,
No, nor of hell, ſhall make me change my mind.
What! herd with men my honeſt ſoul diſdains,
Men who, with ſervile zeal, are forging chains
For Freedom's neck, and lend a helping hand,
To ſpread deſtruction o'er my native land.
What! ſhall I not, e'en to my lateſt breath,
In the full face of danger and of death,
[13]Exert that little ſtrength which Nature gave,
And boldy ſtem, or periſh in the wave?
L. When I look backward for ſome fifty years,
And ſee Proteſting Patriots turn'd to Peers;
Hear men, moſt looſe, for decency declaim,
And talk of Character, without a name;
See Infidels aſſert the cauſe of God,
And meek Divines wield perſecution's rod;
See men transform'd to brutes, and brutes to men,
See WHITEHEAD take a place, RALPH change his pen,
I mock the zeal, and deem the Men in ſport,
Who rail at Miniſters, and curſe a Court.
Thee, haughty as Thou art, and proud in rime,
Shall ſome Preferment, offer'd at a time
When Virtue ſleeps, ſome Sacrifice to Pride,
Or ſome fair Victim, move to change thy ſide.
Thee ſhall theſe eyes behold, to health reſtor'd,
Uſing, as Prudence bids, bold Satire's ſword,
Galling thy preſent friends, and praiſing thoſe,
Whom now thy frenzy holds thy greateſt foes.
C. May I, (can worſe diſgrace on manhood fall?)
Be born a WHITEHEAD, and baptiz'd a PAUL;
[14]May I (tho' to his ſervice deeply tied
By ſacred oaths, and now by will allied)
With falſe feign'd zeal an injur'd God defend,
And uſe his name for ſome baſe private end;
May I (that thought bids double horrors roll
O'er my ſick Spirits, and unmans my ſoul)
Ruin the Virtue which I held moſt dear,
And ſtill muſt hold; may I, thro' abject fear,
Betray my Friend; may to ſucceeding times,
Engrav'd on plates of Adamant, my crimes
Stand blazing forth, whilſt mark'd with envious blot,
Each little act of Virtue is forgot;
Of all thoſe evils which, to ſtamp men curs'd,
Hell keeps in ſtore for vengeance, may the worſt
Light on my head, and in my day of woe,
To make the cup of bitterneſs o'erflow,
May I be ſcorn'd by ev'ry man of worth,
Wander, like Cain, a vagabond on earth,
Bearing about a Hell in my own mind,
Or be to SCOTLAND for my life confin'd,
If I am one amongſt the many known,
Whom SHELBURNE fled, and CALCRAFT bluſh'd to own.
[15] L. Do you reflect what men you make your foes?
C. I do, and that's the reaſon I oppoſe.
Friends I have made, whom Envy muſt commend,
But not one foe, whom I would wiſh a friend.
What if ten thouſand BUTES and FOXES bawl,
One WILKES hath made a large amends for all.
'Tis not the Title, whether handed down
From age to age, or flowing from the crown
In copious ſtreams on recent men, who came
From ſtems unknown, and ſires without a name;
'Tis not the STAR, which our great EDWARD gave
To mark the virtuous, and reward the brave,
Blazing without, whilſt a baſe heart within
Is rotten to the core with filth and ſin;
'Tis not the tinſel grandeur, taught to wait,
At cuſtom's call, to mark a fool of State
From fools of leſſer note, that Soul can awe
Whoſe Pride is Reaſon, whoſe Defence is Law.
L. Suppoſe (a Thing ſcarce poſſible in Art,
Were it thy Cue to play a common Part;)
[16]Suppoſe thy Writings ſo well fenc'd in Law,
That N—— cannot find, nor make a Flaw,
Haſt thou not heard, that 'mongſt our antient Tribes
By Party warpt, or lull'd aſleep by Bribes,
Or trembling at the Ruffian Hand of Force,
Law hath ſuſpended ſtood, or chang'd its Courſe?
Art Thou aſſur'd, that, for Deſtruction ripe,
Thou mayſt not ſmart beneath the ſelf-ſame Gripe?
What Sanction haſt Thou, frantic in thy Rimes,
Thy Life, thy Freedom to ſecure?
C. The Times.
'Tis not on Law, a Syſtem great and good,
By Wiſdom penn'd, and bought by nobleſt Blood,
My Faith relies: By wicked Men and vain,
Law, once abus'd, may be abus'd again.—
No, on our great Law-giver I depend,
Who knows and guides them to their proper End;
Whoſe Royalty of Nature blazes out
So fierce, 'twere Sin to entertain a doubt—
Did Tyrant STUARTS now the Laws diſpenſe
(Bleſt be the hour and hand which ſent them hence)
For ſomething, or for nothing, for a Word,
Or Thought, I might be doom'd to Death, unheard.
[17]Life we might all reſign to lawleſs Pow'r,
Nor think it worth the purchaſe of an hour;
But Envy ne'er ſhall fix ſo foul a ſtain
On the fair annals of a BRUNSWICK's reign.
If, Slave to Party, to Revenge, or Pride,
If, by frail human Error drawn aſide,
I break the Law, ſtrict rigour let Her wear;
'Tis Her's to puniſh, and 'tis mine to bear,
Nor, by the voice of Juſtice doom'd to death,
Would I aſk mercy with my lateſt breath.
But, anxious only for my Country's good,
In which my King's, of courſe, is underſtood;
Form'd on a plan with ſome few Patriot friends,
Whilſt by juſt means I aim at nobleſt ends,
My Spirits cannot ſink; tho' from the tomb
Stern JEFFRIES ſhould be plac'd in MANSFIELD's room,
Tho' he ſhould bring, his baſe deſigns to aid,
Some black Attorney, for his purpoſe made,
And ſhove, whilſt Decency and Law retreat,
The modeſt NORTON from his Maiden ſeat,
Tho' Both, in ill Confed'rates, ſhould agree,
In damned league, to torture Law and Me,
[18]Whilſt GEORGE is King, I cannot fear endure;
Not to be guilty, is to be ſecure.
But when in after-times (be far remov'd
That day) our Monarch, glorious and belov'd,
Sleeps with his Fathers, ſhould imperious Fate
In vengeance with freſh STUARTS curſe our ſtate;
Should They, o'erleaping ev'ry fence of Law,
Butcher the brave to keep tame fools in awe;
Should They, by brutal and oppreſſive force,
Divert ſweet Juſtice from her even courſe;
Should They, of ev'ry other means bereft,
Make my right-hand a witneſs 'gainſt my left;
Should They, abroad by Inquiſitions taught,
Search out my Soul, and damn me for a thought,
Still would I keep my courſe, ſtill ſpeak, ſtill write,
Till Death had plung'd me in the ſhades of Night.
Thou GOD of Truth, Thou great, all-ſearching Eye,
To whom our Thoughts, our Spirits open lie,
Grant me thy ſtrength, and in that needful hour,
(Should it e'er come) when Law ſubmits to Pow'r,
With firm reſolves my ſteady boſom ſteel,
Bravely to ſuffer, tho' I deeply feel.
[19]
Let Me, as hitherto, ſtill draw my breath,
In love with life, but not in fear of death,
And, if Oppreſſion brings me to the grave,
And marks him dead, She ne'er ſhall mark a ſlave,
Let no unworthy marks of grief be heard,
No wild laments, not one unſeemly word;
Let ſober triumphs wait upon my bier,
I won't forgive that Friend who drops one tear.
Whether He's raviſh'd in life's early morn,
Or, in old age, drops like an ear of corn,
Full ripe He falls, on Nature's nobleſt plan,
Who lives to Reaſon, and who dies a Man.
FINIS.