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ENGLISH POET S.
POEMS OF È DWARD MOORE
When Beauty was her throne ;
A while suspends her wing ;
viII. Long through the sky's wide pathlefs way The muse observ'd the wand'rer stray,
And mark'd ber last retreat ;
Amidst Elysian ground:
Her secret steps to meet ;
My Pelham's ardent breast;
And make a nation blest.
Where Virtue deigns to dwell;
In Pleasure's thoughtless train ;
In thades sequester'd doze ;
And at corruption lour;
Is it with you she refts ?
Flies your unhallow'd breasts.
Attack'd on every part:
Her barbarous army fied;
Against whose solid feet,
And Thade its brightest scenes ;
Think all they see deceit;
Yet doubt of light and heat.
A smiling mask her features veilid,
Last on the left was Clamour seen,
With these, four more of lefser fame,
The walls in sculptur'd tale were rich,
With look compos'd the pris’ner stoo.,
Proceed we now, in humbler (trains,
Th' indi&ment grievously set forth,
He was a second time indicted,
HE court was met; the pris'ner brought;
The counsel with instructions fraughts
But first 'tis meet, where form denies
Begin we then (as first 'tis fitting)
Above the rest, and in the chair,
*George Lyttelton, Esq. afterwards Lord Lyttelton. The Perlian Letters of this nobleman were written under the character of Selim, which occasioned Mr. Moore to give him the fame name in this poem.
* Afterwards Earl of Chatham.
+ Mr. Lyttelton was appointed a Lord of this Treasury 25th Dec. 1744.
In Letter to one Gilbert West,
And all this zeal to re-instate He, the faid Selim, did attest,
Exploded notions, out of date; Maintain, support, and make assertion
Sending old rakes to church in Thoals, Of certain points, from Paul's conversion,
Like children, Iniv'ling for their souls ; By means whereof the said apostle
And ladies gay, from Imut and libels, Did many an unbeliever joftle,
To learn beliefs, and read their bibles ; Starting unfashionable fancies,
Erecting conscience for a tutor, And building truths on known romances.
To damn the present by the future : A third charge ran, that knowing well
As if to evils known and real Wits only eat as pamphlets sell,
'Twas needful to annex ideal; He, the said Selim, notwithstanding,
When all of human life we know Did fall to answ'ring, shaming, branding
Is care, and bitterness, and woe, Three curious Letters to the Whigs t;
With short transitions of delight, Making no reader care three figs
To set the shatter'd spirits right, For any facts contain’d therein ;
Then why such mighty pains and care, By which uncharitable fin
To make os hun: ler than we are? An author, modeft and deserving,
Forbidding short-liv'd mirth and laughter, Was destin'd to contempt and starving ;
By fears of what may come hereafter ? Against the king, his crown and peace,
Beiter in ignorance to dwell; And all the statutes in that case.
None fear, but who believe a hell; The pleader rose with brief full charg'd,
And if there should be one, no doubt, And on the pris'ner's crimes enlarg'd
Men of themselves would find it out. But not to damp the Muse's fire
But Selim's crimes, he said, went further, With rhet'ric, such as courts require,
And barely stopp'd on this fide murther ; We'll try to keep the reader warm,
One yet remain'd to close the charge, And hit the matter from the form.
To which (with leave) he'd speak at large, Virtue and social love, he said,
And, firit, 'twas needful to premise, And honour from the land were fled ;
That though so long (for reasons wise) That patriots now, like other folks,
The press inviolate had stood, Were made the but of vulgar jokes ;
Productive of the public good ; While Opposition dropp'd her crest,
Yet still, too modest to abuse, And courted pow'r for wealth and reft.
It rail'd at vice, but told not whore. Why some folks laugh’d, and some folks rail'd, That great improvements, of late days, Why some submitted, some assail'd,
Were made, to many an author's praise, Angy or pleas'dmall solv'd the doubt
Who, not so scrupulously nice, With who were in, and who were out.
Proclaim'd the person with the vice ; The Sons of Clamour grew so fickly,
Or gave, where vices might be wanted, They look'd for diffolution quickly ;
The name, and took the rest for granted. Their Weekly Journals, finely written,
Upon this plan, a Champion * rosc, Were sunk in privies all beh-n;
Unrighteous greatness to oppose, Old-England I, and the London-Evening,
Proving the man “inventus non oft," Hardly a soul was found believing in;
Who trades in pow'r, and still is honest;. And Caleb ll, once fo bold and strong,
And (God be prais’d) he did it roundly, Was stupid now, and always wrong.
Flogging a certain junto foundly. Ask ye whence rose this foul disgrace ?
But chief his anger was directed, Why Selim has receiv'd a place,
Where people least of all suspected ; And thereby brought the cause to Mame;
And Selim, not so Itrong as tall, Proving that people, void of blame,
Beneath his grasp appear'd to fall. Might serve their country and their king,
But Innocence (as people say) By making both the self-same thing :
Stood by, and sav'd him in the fray. By which the credulous believ'd,
By her affifted, and one Truth, And others (by strange arts deceiv'd)
A busy, prating, forward youth, That Ministers were sometimes right,
He rally'd all his strength anew, And meant not to destroy us quite.
And at the foe a Letter threwt: That bart'ring thus in state affairs,
His weakest part the weapon found, He next must deal in sacred wares,
And brought him senseless to the ground. The clergy's rights divine invade,
Hence Oppontion fled the field, And smuggle in the gospel-trade ;
And Ignorance with her seven-fold Thield;
And well they might, for nings weigi'd fully) Entitled, “Observations on the Conversion and The pris'ner with his Whore and Bully, A postleship of St. Paul. In a Letter to Gilbert Must prove for every foe too hard, West, Esq." 8vo. 1747.
Who never fought with such a guard. † Entitled, “ Three Letters to the Whigs; occa- But Truth and Innocence, he said, fioned by the Letter to the Tories." 8vo. 1748. Would stand him here in little itcad;
| An Opposition Paper at that time published, in which Mr. Lyttelton was frequently abused.
Author of the Letters to the Whigs. | Caleb D'Anvers, the name assumed by the + Probably, “ A Congratulatory Letter to Selim writers of the Craftsman.
on the Letters to the Wiigs.” Svo. 1748.
For they had evidence on oath,
The court, he said, knew all the relt, That would appear too hard for both.
And must proceed as they thought beft ; Of witnesses a fearful train
Only he hop'd such refignation Came next, th: indictments to sustain ;
Would plead fome little mitigation ; Detraction, Hatred, and Distrust,
And if his character was clear And Party, of all foes the worst,
From other faults (and friends were near, Malice, Revenge, and Unbelief,
Who would, when call d upon, atteft it) And Disappointment worn with grief,
He did in humbleft form request it, Dishonour foul, unaw'd by Thame,
To be from punishment exempt, And every fiend that Vice can name.
And only suffer their contempt. All these in ample form depos'd,
The pris'ner's friends their claim preferrid, Each fact the triple charge disclos'd,
In turn demanding to be heard, With taunts and gibes of bitter fort,
Integrity and Honour swore, And asking vengeance from the court,
Benevolence, and twenty more, The pris'ner said in his detence,
That he was always of their party, That he indeed had small pretence
And that they knew him firm and hearty. To foften facts so deeply sworn,
Religion, sober dame, attended, But would for his offences moum ;
And, as the could, his cause befriended. Yet more he hop'd than bare repentance
She said, 'twas fince he came from college, Might Nill be urg'd to ward the sentence.
She knew him introduc'd by Knowledge : That he had held a place some years,
The man was modeft and fincere, He own'd with penitence and tears,
Nor farther could the interfere. But took it not from motives base,
The muses begg'd to interpose; Th’indictment there miftook the case ;
But Envy with loud hillings rose, And though he had betray'd his trust
And callid them women of ill fame, In being to his country just,
Liars, and prostitutes to shame; Neglecting Faction and her friends,
And said, to all the world 'twas known,
Selim had had them every one.
When silence was proclaim'd around,
And Faction rising with the rest, Bore hard against him, he confess'd;
In form the prisoner thus address d. Yet there they wrong'd him; for the fact is,
You, Selim, thrice have been indicted: He reason'd for Belief, not Practice;
First, that hy wicked pride excited, And People might believe, he thought,
And bent your country to disgrace, Though Practice might be deemed a fault.
You have receiv'd, and held a Place: He either dreamt it, or was told,
Next, Infidelity to wound, Religion was rever'd of old,
You've dar'd, with arguments profound That it gave breeding no offence,
To drive Freethinking to a stand, And was no foe to wit and sense;
And with Religion vex the land : But whether this was truth, or whim,
And lastly in contempt of right, He would not say; the doubt with him
With horrid and unnat'ral spite, (And no great harm he hop'd) was, how
You have an Author's fame o'erthrown, Th’ enlighten'd world would take it now:
Thereby to build and fence your own. If they admitted it, 'twas well;
These crimes successive, on your trial, If not, he never talk'd of hell;
Have met with proofs beyond denial; Nor even hop'd to change men's measures, To which yourself, with shame, conceded, Or frighten ladies from their pleasures.
And but in mitigation pleaded. One accusation, he confess’d,
Yet that the justice of the court Had touch'd him more than all the rest ;
May suffer not in men's report, Three Patriot-Letters, high in fame, .
Judgment a moment I suspend, By him o'erthrown, and brought to thame. To reason as from friend to friend. And though it was a rule in vogue,
And first, that You, of all mankind, If one man call'd another rogue,
With Kings and Courts should stain your mind! The party injur'd might reply,
You! who were Opposition's lord ! And on his foe retort the lie;
Her nerves, her finews, and her sword ! Yet what accru'd from all his labour,
That You at last, for servile ends, But foul dishonour to his neighbour ?
Should wound the bowels of her friends! And he's a most unchristian elf,
Is aggravation of offence, Who others damns to save himself.
That leaves for mercy no pretence. Befides, as all men knew, he said,
-For You to urge your hate, Those Letters only rail'd for bread;
And back the Church, to aid the State ! And hunger was a known excuse
For You to publish such a Letter! For prostitution and abuse :
You! who have known Religion better! A guinea, properly apply'd,
For You, I say, to introduce Had made the Writer change his side ;
The fraud again there's no excuse. He wish'd he had not cut and carv'd him,
And last of all, to crown your shame, And own'd, he should have bought, not starv'd him. Was it for you to load with blame