essence of friendship, and, as humanity must have an outlet for its affections, s0, in contrast to the "empoisoned venom of his blood," kindly association with a few congenial spirits, appears to have been

66

-the fountain

From the which his current flow'd,"

or it had assuredly" dried up."

As to suffering for his boldness, this was not only Swift's case, but will ever be the fate of poor but proud intellects, who will not truckle to injustice, and cupidity, in high places. Merit has ever been a martyr, whether the penalty has been the sword or the fire-the oppressor, a corporation or an individual-the sufferer, a "Whiston " or a "Sir Thomas More." It is true that after many years are passed, and the sufferer buried, he will be called a hero, but his friends will leave him to fight the "battle of life" alone, except he be wealthy--then he will be considered a worthy man. "Quantum habet nummi in arcâ, tantum habet fidei."

BEGIN, my Lord, in early youth,
To suffer, nay, encourage truth;
And blame me not for disrespect,
If I the flatterer's style reject;1
With that, by menial tongues supplied,
You're daily cocker'd up in pride..

(1) It is not because a person abjures the practice of flattery that he is therefore more sincere: there are those in the world who declare they "cannot cog," they "cannot bend," and are all the while the veriest hypocrites of the pack.

The tree's distinguish'd by the fruit;
Be virtue, then, your first pursuit.
Set your great ancestors in view,
Like them deserve the title too;
Like them, ignoble actions scorn;
Let virtue prove you greatly born.

Though with less plate their side-board shone,

Their conscience always was their own;
They ne'er at levees meanly fawn'd,
Nor was their honour yearly pawn'd;
Their hands, by no corruption stain'd,
The ministerial bribe, disdain'd.
They served the crown with loyal zeal,
Yet, jealous of the public weal,
They stood, the bulwark of our laws,
And wore at heart, their country's cause.
By neither place, nor pension, bought,
They spoke and voted as they thought;
Thus did your sires adorn their seat,
And such alone, are truly great.1

If you the paths of learning, slight,
You're but a dunce, in stronger light.
In foremost rank, the coward placed,
Is more conspicuously disgraced.
If you, to serve a paltry end,
To knavish jobs can condescend,
We pay you the contempt that's due;
In that, you have precedence too.
Whence had you this illustrious name?
From virtue and unblemish'd fame.

is "golden age
was long before "Adam delved or Eve span,'
"nothing is new under the sun," not even chicanery.

"at

By birth the name alone descends;
Your honour on your self depends:
Think not your coronet can hide
Assuming ignorance and pride.
Learning by study must be won,
"Twas ne'er entail'd from son to son;
Superior worth your rank requires,
For that, mankind reveres your sires:
If you degenerate from your race,
Their merits heighten your disgrace.

A Carrier, every night and morn,
Would see his horses eat their corn:
This sunk the hostler's vails, 'tis true,
But then his horses had their due.
Were we so cautious in all cases,

Small gain would rise from greater places.
The manger now had all its measure;
He heard the grinding teeth with pleasure,
When all at once confusion rung—
They snorted, jostled, bit, and flung.
A pack-horse turn'd his head aside,
Foaming, his eyeballs swell'd with pride.

"Good gods!" says he, "how hard's
Is then my high descent forgot?
Reduced to drudgery and disgrace,
(A life unworthy of my race)
Must I, too, bear the vile attacks
Of ragged scrubs and vulgar hacks?
See scurvy Roan, that brute ill-bred,
Dares from the manger, thrust my
Shall I, who boast a noble line,
On offals of these creatures, dine!

my

head!

lot!

Kick'd by old Ball! so mean a foe!
My honour suffers by the blow.
Newmarket speaks my grandsire's fame,
All jockeys still revere his name;
There, yearly, are his triumphs told,
There all his massy plates enroll'd.
Whene'er led forth upon the plain,
You saw him with a livery train;
Returning, too, with laurels crown'd,
You heard the drums and trumpets sound.
Let it then, Sir, be understood,
Respect's my due, for I have blood."

"Vain-glorious fool!" the Carrier cried,
"Respect was never paid to pride.
Know 'twas thy giddy wilful heart
Reduced thee to this slavish part.
Did not thy headstrong youth disdain
To learn the conduct of the rein?
Thus coxcombs, blind to real merit,
In vicious frolics, fancy spirit.
What is 't to me by whom begot,
Thou restive, pert, conceited sot?
Your sires I reverence-'tis their due,
But, worthless fool, what's that to you?
Ask all the Carriers on the road,
They'll say thy keeping's ill bestow'd.
Then vaunt no more thy noble race,
That neither mends thy strength nor pace.
What profits me, thy boast of blood?
An ass hath more intrinsic good.

By outward show let's not be cheated;

An ass, should, like an ass, be treated."
"" 1

(1) A young noble once taunted a member of the House of Commons, with his