Majestic in distress, Aurelius mark'd; And, unresisting, felt his bosom flow With social softness. Straight, before the door Of his moss-silver'd cell they sat them down In counterview: and thus the youth began.
"With patient ear, with calm attention, mark Amyntor's story: then, as Justice sees, On either hand, her equal balance weigh, Absolve him, or condemn-But oh, may I, A father's name, when truth forbids to praise, Unblam'd pronounce? that name to every son By Heaven made sacred; and by Nature's hand, With Honour, Duty, Love, her triple pale, Fenc'd strongly round, to bar the rude approach Of each irreverent thought.-These eyes, alas! The curs'd effects of sanguinary zeal Too near beheld: its madness how extreme; How blind its fury, by the prompting priest, Each tyrant's ready instrument of ill, Train'd on to holy mischief. Scene abhorr'd! Fell Cruelty let loose in Mercy's name: Intolerance, while o'er the free-born mind Her heaviest chains were cast, her iron scourge Severest hung, yet daring to appeal
That Power whose law is meekness; and, for deeds That outrage Heaven, belying Heaven's command. "Flexile of will, misjudging, though sincere, Rolando caught the spread infection, plung'd Implicit into guilt, and headlong urg'd His course unjust to violence and rage. Unmanly rage! when nor the charm divine Of beauty, nor the matron's sacred age, Secure from wrongs, could innocence secure, Found reverence or distinction. Yet, sustain'd By conscious worth within, the matchless pair Their threatening fate, imprisonment and scorn And death denounc'd, unshrinking, unsubdued To murmur or complaint, superior bore, With patient hope, with fortitude resign'd, Nor built on pride, nor counting vain applause; But calmly constant, without effort great, What reason dictates, and what Heaven approves. "But how proceed, Aurelius? in what sounds Of gracious cadence, of assuasive power, My further story clothe? O could I steal From Harmony her softest-warbled strain Of melting air! or Zephyre's vernal voice! Or Philomela's song, when love dissolves To liquid blandishment his evening lay, All nature smiling round! then might I speak; Then might Amyntor, unoffending, tell, How unperceiv'd and secret through his breast, As morning rises o'er the midnight-shade, What first was ow'd humanity to both, Assisting piety and tender thought, Grew swift and silent into love for one: My sole offence-if love can then offend, When virtue lights and reverence guards its flame. "O Theodora! who thy world of charms, That soul of sweetness, that soft glow of youth, Warm on thy cheek, and beaming from thine eye, Unmov'd could see? that dignity of ease, That grace of air, by happy nature thine! For all in thee was native; from within Spontaneous flowing, as some equal stream From its unfailing source! and then too seen In milder lights; by sorrow's shading handTouch'd into power more exquisitely soft,
By tears adorn'd, intender'd by distress. O sweetness without name! when Love looks on With Pity's melting eye, that to the soul Endears, ennobles her, whom Fate afflicts, Or Fortune leaves unhappy! Passion then Refines to virtue: then a purer train Of heaven-inspir'd emotions, undebas'd By self-regard, or thought of due return, The breast expanding, all its powers exalt To emulate what reason best conceives Of love celestial; whose prevenient aid Forbids approaching ill; or gracious draws, When the lone heart with anguish inly bleeds, From pain its sting, its bitterness from woe!
"By this plain courtship of the honest heart To pity mov'd, at length my pleaded vows The gentle maid with unreluctant ear Would oft admit; would oft endearing crown With smiles of kind assent, with looks that spoke, In blushing softness, her chaste bosom touch'd To mutual love. O fortune's fairest hour! O seen, but not enjoy'd, just hail'd and lost It's flattering brightness! Theodora's form, Event unfear'd! had caught Rolando's eye: And Love, if wild Desire, of Fancy born, By furious passions nurs'd, that sacred name Profanes not, Love his stubborn breast dissolv'd To transient goodness. But my thought shrinks back, Reluctant to proceed: and filial awe, With pious hand, would o'er a parent's crime The veil of silence and oblivious night Permitted throw. His impious suit repell'd, Aw'd from her eye, and from her lip severe Dash'd with indignant scorn; each harbour'd thought Of soft emotion or of social sense, Love, pity, kindness, alien to a soul That Bigot-rage embosoms, fled at once: And all the savage reassum'd his breast. ''Tis just,' he cry'd: who thus invites disdain, Deserves repulse; he who, by slave-like arts, Would meanly steal what force may nobler take, And, greatly daring, dignify the deed. When next we meet, our mutual blush to spare, Thine from dissembling, from base flattery mine, Shall be my care.' This threat, by brutal scorn Keen'd and embitter'd, terrible to both, To one prov'd fatal. Silent-wasting grief, The mortal worm that on Emilia's frame Had prey'd unseen, now deep through all her powers Its poison spread, and kill'd their vital growth. Sickening, she sunk beneath this double weight Of shame and horrour.-Dare I yet proceed? Aurelius, O most injur'd of mankind! Shall yet my tale, exasperating, add To woe, new anguish and to grief, despair- She is no more-"
"O Providence severe !" Aurelius smote his breast, and groaning cry'd; But curb'd a second groan, repell'd the voice Of froward grief: and to the will supreme, In justice awful, lowly bending his, Nor sigh, nor murmur, nor repining plaint, By all the war of nature though assail'd, Escap'd his lips. "What! shall we, from Heaven's With life receiving happiness, our share [grace Of ill refuse? And are afflictions aught But mercies in disguise? th' alternate cup, Medicinal though bitter, and prepar'd By Love's own hand for salutary ends. But were they ills indeed; can fond complaint
Arrest the wing of Time? Can grief command This noon-day Sun to roll his flaming orb Back to yon eastern coast, and bring again The hours of yesterday? or from the womb Of that unsounded deep the bury'd corse To light and life restore? Blest pair, farewell! Yet, yet a few short days of erring grief, Of human fondness sighing in the breast, And sorrow is no more. Now, gentle youth, And let me call thee son, (for O that name Thy faith, thy friendship, thy true portion borne Of pains for me, too sadly have deserv'd) On with thy tale. 'Tis mine, when Heaven afflicts, To hearken and adore." The patient man Thus spoke: Amyntor thus his story clos'd.
"As, dumb with anguish, round the bed of death Weeping we knelt, to mine she faintly rais'd Her closing eyes; then fixing, in cold gaze, On Theodora's face- O save my child!'. She said; and, shrinking from her pillow, slept Without a groan, a pang. In hallow'd carth I saw her shrouded; bade eternal peace Her shade receive, and, with the truest tears Affection ever wept, her dust bedew'd.
"What then remain'd for honour or for love? What, but that scene of violence to fly, With guilt profan'd, and terrible with death, Rolando's fatal roof. Late at the hour, When shade and silence o'er this nether orb With drowsiest influence reign, the waining Moon Ascending mournful in the midnight sphere; On that drear spot, within whose cavern'd womb Emilia sleeps, and by the turf that veils Her honour'd clay, alone and kneeling there I found my Theodora ! Thrill'd with awe, With sacred terrour, which the time, the place, Pour'd on us, sadly-solemn, I too bent
My trembling knee, and lock'd in her's my hand Across her parent's grave. By this dread scene! By night's pale regent! By yon glorious train Of ever-moving fires that round her burn! By Death's dark empire! by the sheeted dust That once was man, now mouldering here below! But chief by her's, at whose nocturnal tomb, Reverent we kneel! and by her nobler part, Th' unbody'd spirit, hovering near, perhaps, As witness to our vows! nor time, nor chance, Nor aught but Death's inevitable hand, Shall e'er divide our loves.'-I led her thence: To where, safe-station'd in a secret bay, Rough of descent, and brown with pendent pines That murmur'd to the gale, our bark was moor'd. We sail'd-But, O my father; can I speak What yet remains? yon ocean black with storm! Its useless sails rent from the groaning pine! The speechless crew aghast! and that lost fair! Still, still I see her! feel her heart pant thick! And hear her voice, in ardent vows to Heaven For me alone preferr'd; as on my arm, Expiring, sinking with her fears she hung! I kiss'd her pale cold cheek! with tears adjur'd, And won at last, with sums of proffer'd gold, The boldest mariners, this precious charge Instant to save; and, in the skiff secur'd, Their oars across the foamy flood to ply With unremitting arm. I then prepar'd To follow her-That moment, from the deck, A sea swell'd o'er, and plung'd me in the gulf. Nor me alone: its broad and billowing sweep Must have involv'd her too. Mysterious Heaven! VOL XIV.
My fatal love on her devoted head Drew down-it must be so! the judgment due To me and mine: or was Amyntor sav'd For its whole quiver of remaining wrath? For storis more fierce? for pains of sharper sting? And years of death to come?"-Nor further voice, Nor flowing tear his high-wrought grief supply'd: With arms outspread, with eyes in hopeless gaze To Heaven uplifted, motionless and mute He stood, the mournful semblance of Despair.
The lamp of day, though from mid-noon declin'd, Still flaming with full ardour, shot on Earth Oppressive brightness round; till in soft steam From Ocean's bosom his light vapour's drawn, With grateful intervention o'er the sky
| Their veil diffusive spread; the scene abroad Soft-shadowing, vale and plain, and dazzling hill. Aurelius, with his guest, the western cliff Ascending slow, beneath its marble roof, From whence in double stream a lucid source Roll'd sounding forth, and, where with dewy wing Fresh breezes play'd, sought refuge and repose, Till cooler hours arise. The subject isle Her village-capital, where health and peace Are tutelary gods; her small domain
Of arable and pasture, vein'd with streams That branching bear refreshful moisture on To field and mead; her straw-roof'd temple rude, Where Piety, not Pride, adoring kneels, Lay full in view. From scene to scene around Aurelius gaz'd; and, sighing, thus began.
"Not we alone; alas! in every clime, The human race are sons of sorrow born. Heirs of transmitted labour and disease, Of pain and grief, from sire to son deriv'd, All have their mournful portion; all must bear Th' impos'd condition of their mortal state, Vicissitude of suffering. Cast thine eye Where yonder vale, Amyntor, sloping spreads Full to the noon-tide beam its primrose-lap, From hence due cast." Amyntor look'd, and saw, Not without wonder at a sight so strange, Where thrice three females, earnest each and armı'd With rural instruments, the soil prepar'd For future harvest. These the trenchant spade, To turn the mould and break th' adhesive clods, Employ'd assiduous. Those, with equal pace, And arm alternate, strew'd its fresh lap white With fruitful Ceres: while, in train behind, Three more th' encumbent harrow heavy on O'er-labour'd drew, and clos'd the toilsomne task. "Behold!" Aurelius thus his speech renew'd, "From that soft sex, too delicately fram'd For toils like these, the task of rougher man, What yet necessity demands severe. Twelve suns have purpled these encircling hills With orient beams, as many nights along Their dewy summits drawn th' alternate veil Of darkness, since, in unpropitious hour, The husbands of those widow'd mates, who now For both must labour, lanch'd, in quest of food, Their island-skiff adventurous on the deep. Them, while the sweeping net secure they plung'a The finny race to snare, whose foodful shoals Each creek and bay innumerable crowd, As annual ou from shore to shore they move In watry caravan; them, thus intent, Dark from the south a gust of furious wing, Up-springing, drove to sea, and left in tears This little world of brothers and of friends'
But when, at evening hour, disjointed planks, Borne on the surging-tide, and broken oars, To sight, with fatal certainty, reveal'd The wreck before surmis'd; one general groan, To Heaven ascending, spoke the general breast With sharpest anguish pierc'd. Their ceaseless plaint, [shore, Through these hoarse rocks, on this resounding At morn was heard: at midnight too were seen, Disconsolate on each chill mountain's height, The mourners spread, exploring land and sea With eager gaze-till from yon lesser isle, Yon round of moss-clad hills, Borera nam'd- Full north, behold! above the soaring lark, Its dizzy cliffs aspire, hung round and white With curling mists-at last from yon boar hills, Inflaming the brown air with sudden blaze, And ruddy undulation, thrice three fires, Like meteors waving in a moonless sky, Our eyes, yet unbelieving, saw distinct, Successive kindled, and from night to night Renew'd continuous. Joy, with wild excess, Took her gay turn to reign; and Nature now From rapture wept: yet ever and anon By sad conjecture damp'd, and anxious thought How from yon rocky prison to release Whom the deep sea iminures (their only boat Destroy'd) and whom th' inevitable siege Of hunger must assault. But hope sustains The human heart: and now their faithfnl wives, With love-taught skill and vigour not their own, On yonder field th' autumnal year prepare 1." Amyntor, who the tale distressful heard With sympathizing sorrow, on himself, On his severer fate, now pondering deep, Wrapt by sad thought the hill unheeding left, And reach'd, with swerving step, the distant strand. Above, around, in cloudy circles wheel'd, Or sailing level on the polar gale That cool with evening rose, a thousand wings, The summer-nations of these pregnant cliffs, Play'd sportive round, and to the Sun outspread Their various plumage; or in wild notes hail'd His parent-beam, that animates and cheers All living kinds. He, glorious from amidst A pomp of golden clouds, th' Atlantic flood Beheld oblique, and o'er its azure breast Wav'd one unbounded blush: a scene to strike Both ear and eye with wonder and delight! But, lost to outward sense, Amyntor pass'd Regardless on, through other walks convey'd Of baleful prospect; which pale Fancy rais'd Incessant to herself, and sabled o'er
With darkest night, meet region for despair! Till northward, where the rock its sea-wash'd base Projects athwart and shuts the bounded scene, Rounding its point, he rais'd his eyes and saw, At distance saw, descending on the shore, Forth from their anchor'd boat, of men unknown A double band, who by their gestures strange There fix'd with wondering: for at once they knelt With hands upheld; at once, to Heaven, as seem'd, One general hymn pour'd forth of vocal praise. Then, slowly rising, forward mov'd their steps: Slow as they mov'd, behold! amid the train, On either side supported, onward came
The author who relates this story adds, that the produce of grain that season was the most plentiful they had seen for many years before.
Pale and of piteous look, a pensive maid; As one by wasting sickness sore assail'd, Or plung'd in grief profound-"Oh, all ye powers!" Amyntor starting, cry'd, and shot his soul In rapid glance before him on her face. "Illusion! no-it cannot be. My blood Runs chill: my feet are rooted here-and see! To mock my hopes, it wears her gracious form. The spirits who this ocean waste and wild Still hover round, or walk these isles unseen, Presenting oft in pictur'd vision strange The dead or absent, have on yon shape adorn'd, So like my love, of unsubstantial air, Embody'd featur'd it with all her charms- And lo! behold! its eyes are fix'd on mine With gazet ransported-Ha! sh efaints, she falls!" He ran, he flew his clasping arms receiv'd Her sinking weight-" O earth, and air, and sea! 'Tis she! 'tis Theodora! Power divine, Whose goodness knows no bounds, thy hand is here, Omnipotent in mercy!" As he spoke, Adown his cheek, through shivering joy and doubt, The tear fast-falling stream'd. "My love! my life! Soul of my wishes! sav'd beyond all faith! Return to life and me. O fly, my friends, Fly, and from yon translucent fountain bring The living stream. Thou dearer to my soul Than all the sumless wealth this sea entombs, My Theodora, yet awake: 'tis I,
'Tis poor Amyntor calls thee!" At that name, That potent name, her spirit from the verge Of death recall'd, she trembling rais'd her eyes; Trembling, his neck with eager grasp entwin'd, And murmur'd out his name: then sunk again; Then swoon'd upon his bosom, through excess Of bliss unhop'd, too mighty for her frame. The rose-bud thus, that to the beam serene Of morning glad unfolds her tender charms, Shrinks and expires beneath the noon-day blaze.
Moments of dread suspense-but soon to cease! For now, while on her face these men unknown The stream, with cool aspersion, busy cast, His eyes beheld, with wonder and amaze, Beheld in them-his friends! th' adventurous few, Who bore her to the skiff! whose daring skill Had sav'd her from the deep! As, o'er her cheek, Rekindling life, like morn, its light diffus'd In dawning purple; from their lips he learn'd, How to yon isle, yon round of moss-clad hills, Borea nam'd, before the tempest borne, These islanders, thrice three, then prison'd there, (So Heaven ordain'd) with utmost peril run, With toil invincible, from shelve and rock Their boat preserv'd, and to this happy coast Its prow directed safe-He heard no more: The rest already known, his every sense, His full collected soul, on her alone Was fix'd, was hung enraptur'd, while these sounds, This voice, as of an angel, pierc'd his ear.
"Amyntor! O my life's recover'd hope! My soul's despair and rapture!-can this be? Am I on earth? and do these arms indeed Thy real form enfold Thou dreadful deep! Ye shores unknown! ye wild impending hills! Dare I yet trust my sense?-O yes, 'tis he! 'Tis he himself! My eyes, my bounding heart,
Vide Martin's Description of the Western Isles of Scotland, p. 286.
Confess their living lord! What shall I say y? How vent the boundless transport that expands My labouring thought? th' unutterable bliss, Joy, wonder, gratitude, that pain to death The breast they charm?-Amyntor, O support This swimming brain: I would not now be torn Again from life and thee; nor cause thy heart A second pang." At this, dilated high The swell of joy, most fatal where its force Is felt most exquisite, a timely vent
Now found, and broke in tender dews away Of heart-relieving tears. As o'er its charge, With sheltering wing, solicitously good, The guardian-genius hovers, so the youth, On her lov'd face, assiduous and alarm'd, In silent fondness dwelt: while all his soul, With trembling tenderness of hope and fear Pleasingly pain'd, was all employ'd for her; The rouz'd emotions warring in her breast, Attempering, to compose, and gradual fit For further joy her soft impressive frame.
"O happy! though as yet thou know'st not half The bliss that waits thee! but, thou gentle mind, Whose sigh is pity, and whose smile is love, For all who joy or sorrow, arm thy breast With that best temperance, which from fond excess, When rapture lifts to dangerous height its powers, Reflective guards. Know then-and let calm thought On wonder wait-safe refug'd in this isle, Thy godlike father lives! and lo-but curb, Repress the transport that o'erheaves thy heart; 'Tis he-look yonder-he, whose reverend steps The mountain's side descend!-Abrupt from his Her hand she drew; and, as on wings upborne, Shot o'er the space between. He saw, he knew, Astonish'd knew, before him, on her knee, His Theodora! To his arms he rais'd The lost lov'd fair, and in his bosom press'd. "My father!"—"O my child!" at once they cry'd: Nor more. The rest ecstatic silence spoke, And Nature from her inmost seat of sense Bevond all utterance mov'd. On this blest scene, Where emulous in either bosom strove Adoring gratitude, earth, ocean, air, Around with softening aspect seem'd to smile; And Heaven, approving, look'd delighted down. Nor theirs alone this blissful hour: the joy, With instant flow, from shore to shore along Diffusive ran; and all th' exulting isle About the new-arriv'd was pour'd abroad, To hope long lost, by miracle regain'd! In each plain bosom Love and Nature wept : While each a sire, a husband, or a friend, Embracing held and kiss'd.
Now, while the song, The choral hymn, in wildly-warbled notes, What Nature dictates when the full heart prompts, Best harmony, they, grateful souls, effus'd Aloud to Heaven; Montano, reverend seer, (Whose eye prophetic far through Time's abyss Could shoot its beam, and there the births of Fate, Yet immature and in their causes hid, Illumin'd see) a space abstracted stood: His frame with shivery horrour stirr'd, his eyes From outward vision held, and all the man Eatranc'd in wonder at th' unfolding scene, On fluid air, as in a mirror seen,
And glowing radiant, to his mental sight.
With tempest delug'd, or with flame devour'd Her drooping plains: while, dawning rosy round, A purer morning lights up all her skies! He comes, behold! the great deliver comes! Immortal William, borne triumphant on, From yonder orient, o'er propitious seas, White with the sails of his unnumber'd fleet, A floating forest, stretch'd from shore to shore ! See! with spread wings Britannia's genius flies Before his prow; commands the speeding gales To waft him on; and, o'er the hero's head, Inwreath'd with olive bears the laurel-crown, Blest emblem, peace with liberty restor❜d! And hark! from either strand, which nations hide, To welcome-in true freedom's day renew'd What thunders of acclaim! Aurelius, man By Heaven belov'd, thou too that sacred sun Shalt live to hail; shalt warm thee in his shine! I see thee on the flowery lap diffus'd Of thy lov'd vale, amid a smiling race From this blest pair to spring: whom equal faith, And equal fondness, in soft league shall hold From youth to reverend age; the calmer hours Of thy last day to sweeten and adorn; Through life thy comfort, and in death thy crown."
YOUR grace has given leave, that these few poems should appear in the world under the patronage of your name. But this leave would have been refused, I know, had you expected to find your own praises, however just, in any part of the present address. I do not say it, my lord, in the style of compliment. Genuine modesty, the companion and the grace of true merit, may be surely distinguished from the affectation of it: as surely as the native glowing of a fine complexion from that artificial colouring, which is used, in vain, to sup ply what Nature had denied, or has resumed.
Yet, permit me just to hint, my lord, while I restrain my pen from all enlargement, that if the fairest public character must be raised upon private virtue, as surely it must, your grace has laid already the securest foundation of the former, in the latter. The eyes of mankind are therefore turned upon you: and, from what you are known to have done, in one way, they reasonably look for whatever can be expected from a great and good man, in the other.
The author of these lighter amusements hopes soon to present your grace with something more solid, more deserving your attention, in the life of the first duke of Marlborough 2.
You will then see, that superior talents for war have been, though they rarely are, accompanied with equal abilities for negotiation: and that the same extensive capacity, which could guide all the tumultuous scenes of the camp, knew how to direct, with equal skill, the calmer but more perplexing operations of the cabinet.
This dedication was prefixed by the author to a small collection of his poems, published in 1672. N.
2 A work which has not yet appeared. N
In the mean while, that you may live to adorn the celebrated and difficult title you wear; that you may be, like him, the defender of your country in days of public danger; and in times of peace, what is perhaps less frequently found, the friend and patron of those useful and ornamental arts, by which human nature is exalted, and human society rendered more happy: this, my lord, is respect-On Earth to dwell, and govern there: fully the wish of
ADDRESSED TO A CERTAIN NOBLE LORD.
THE AUTHOR OF THE FOLLOWING POEM.
It has no faults, or I no faults can spy: It is all beauty, or in blindness I.
Imprimatur,
mco periculo,
THE following extract from his majesty's speech to both houses of parliament, which, by every man in his dominions, would be thought the noblest introduction to a poem of the first merit, is peeuliarly suitable to introduce this. However unequal these verses may be to the subject they attempt to adorn, this singular advantage will be readily allowed them. It will, at the same time, be the fullest and best explanation of the author's meaning, on a theme so interesting and uncommon. The words are these:
ASTREA, eldest born of Jove, Whom all the gods revere and love, Was sent, while man deserv'd their care,
Till finding Earth by Heaven unaw'd, Till sick of violence and fraud, Abandoning the guilty crew, Back to her native sky she flew, There, station'd in the Virgin-sign, She long has ceas'd on Earth to shine; Or if, at times, she deigns a smile, 'Tis chief o'er Brtitain's favour'd isle.
For there her eye with wonder fix'd That wonder too with pleasure mix'd! She now beheld, in blooming youth, The patron of all worth and truth; Not where the virtues most resort, On peaceful plains, but in a court! Not in a cottage, all-unknown; She found him seated on a throne! What fables paint, what poets sing, She found in fact--a patriot-king! But as a sight, so nobly new, Deserv'd, she thought, a nearer view; To where, by silver-streaming Thames, Ascends the palace of St. James, Swift through surrounding shades of night, The goddess shot her beamy flight. She stopp'd; and the revealing ray Blaz'd round her favourite, where he lay, In sweet repose: o'er all his face, Repose shed softer bloom and grace! But fearful lest her sun-bright glare Too soon might wake him into care, (For splendid toils and weary state Are every monarch's envy'd fate) The stream of circling rays to shroud, She drew an interposing cloud.
In all the silence of surprise, She gazed him o'er! She saw arise, For gods can read the human breast, Her own ideas there imprest! And that his plan to bless mankind, The plan now brightening in his mind, May story's whitest page adorn, May shine through nations yet unborn, She calls Urbania to her aid.
At once the fair ethereal maid, Daughter of Memory and Jove, Descending quits her laurel'd grove: Loose to the gale her azure robe; Borne, in her left, a starry globe, Where each superior son of Fame Will find inscrib'd his deathless name, Her right sustains th' immortal lyre, To praise due merit, or inspire.
"Behold"-Astrea thus began"The friend of virtue and of man!
I look upon the independency and uprightness of the judges of the land as essential to the impartial administration of justice; as one of the best securities of the rights and liberties of my loving sub- Calm reason see, in early youth! jects; and as most conducive to the honour of the See, in a prince, the soul of truth! crown. And I come now to recommend this in-With love of justice, tender sense teresting object to the consideration of parliament; For suffering worth and innocence ! in order that such further provision, as shall be Who means to build his happy reign most expedient, may be made, for securing the On this blest maxim, wise and plain-judges in the enjoyment of their offices, during their Though plain, how seldom understood! good behaviour, notwithstanding any such demise.” That, to be great, he must be good.
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