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Around the music of my lays they throng,
Ah, too deserving objects of my song!
Live, wondrous palace, live secure of time,
To senses harmony, to souls sublime,
And just proportion all, and great design,
And lively colours, and an air divine.

[choose,

"Tis here that, guided by the Muse's fire, And fill'd with sacred thought, her friends retire, Unbent to care, and unconcern'd with noise, To taste repose and elevated joys, Which in a deep untroubled leisure meet, Serenely ravishing, politely sweet. From hence the charms that most engage they And, as they please, the glittering objects use; While to their genius, more than art they trust, Yet art acknowledges their labours just. From hence they look, from this exalted show, To choose their subject in the world below, And where a hero well deserves a name, They consecrate his acts in song to Fame; Or, if a science unadorn'd they find, They smooth its look to please and teach the And where a friendship's generously strong, They celebrate the knot of souls in song; Or, if the verses must inflame desire,

[mind;

The thoughts are melted, and the words on fire:
But, when the temples deck'd with glory stand,
And hymns of gratitude the gods demand,
Their bosoms kindle with celestial love,
And then alone they cast their eyes above.

"Hail, sacred Verse! ye sacred Muses, hail!
Could I your pleasures with your fire reveal,
The world might then be taught to know your
And court your rage, and envy my delight. [right,
But, whilst I follow where your pointed beams
My course directing shoot in golden streams,
The bright appearance dazzles Fancy's eyes,
And weary'd out the fix'd attention lies;
Enough, my verses, have you work'd my breast,
I'll seek the sacred grove, and sink to rest."
No longer now the ravish'd poet sung,
His voice in easy cadence left the tongue;
Nor o'er the music did his fingers fly,
The sounds ran tingling, and they seem'd to die.
O, Bolingbroke! O favourite of the skies,
O born to gifts by which the uoblest rise,
Improv'd in arts by which the brightest please,
Intent to business, and polite for ease;
Sublime in eloquence, where loud applause
Hath styl'd thee patron of a nation's cause. [great,
"Twas there the world perceiv'd and own'd thee
Thence Anna call'd thee to the reins of state;
"Go, said the greatest queen, with Oxford go,
And still the tumults of the world below,
Exert thy powers, and prosper; he that knows
To move with Oxford, never should repose."
She spake the patriot overspread thy mind,
And all thy days to public good resign'd.
Else might thy soul, so wonderfully wrought
For every depth and turn of curious thought,
To this the poet's sweet recess retreat,
And thence report the pleasures of the seat,
Describe the raptures which a writer knows,
When in his breast a vein of fancy glows,
Describe his business while he works the mine,
Describe his temper when he sees it shine,
Or say, when readers easy verse insnares,
How much the writer's mind can act on theirs :
Whence images in charming numbers set,
A sort of likeness in the soul beget,

And what fair visions oft we fanèy nigh
By fond delusions of the swimming eye,
Or further pierce through nature's maze to find
How passions drawn give passions to the mind,
Oh, what a sweet confusion! what surprise!
How quick the shifting views of pleasure rise!
While, lightly skimming, with a transient wing,
I touch the beauties which I wish to sing.
Is verse a sovereign regent of the soul,
And fitted all its motions to control?
"Or are they sisters, tun'd at once above,
And shake like unisons if either move?
For, when the numbers sing an eager fight,
I've heard a soldier's voice express delight;
I've seen his eyes with crowding spirits shine,
And round his hilt his hand unthinking twine.
When from the shore the fickle Trojan flies,
And in sweet measures poor Eliza dies,
I've seen the book forsake the virgin's hand,
And in her eyes the tears but hardly stand.
I've known her blush at soft Corinna's name,
And in red characters confess a flame:
Or wish success had more adorn'd his arms,
Who gave the world for Cleopatra's charms.

Ye sons of glory, be my first appeal,
If here the power of lines these lines reveal.
When some great youth has with impetuous thought
Read o'er achievements which another wrought,
And seen his courage and his honour go
Through crowding nations in triumphant show,
His soul, enchanted by the words he reads,
Shines al impregnated with sparkling seeds,
And courage here, and honour there, appears
In brave design that soars beyond his years,
And this a spear, and that a chariot lends,
And war and triumph he by turns attends;
Thus gallant pleasures are his waking dream,
Till some fair cause have call'd him forth to fame.
Then, form'd to life on what the poet made,
And breathing slaughter, and in arms array'd,
He marches forward on the daring foe,
And emulation acts in every blow.
Great Hector's shade in fancy stalks along,
From rank to rank amongst the martial throng;
While from his acts he learns a noble rage,
And shines like Hector in the present age.
Thus verse will raise him to the victor's bays;
And verse, that rais'd him,shall resound his praise.
Ye tender beauties, be my witness too,
If song can charm, and if my song be true.
With sweet experience oft a fair may find
Her passions mov'd by passions well design'd;
And then she longs to meet a gentle swain,
And longs to love, and to be lov'd again.
And if by chance an amorous youth appears,
With pants and blushes she the courtship hears;
And finds a tale that must with theirs agree,
And he's Septimius, and his Acme 'she:
Thus lost in thought her melted heart she gives,
And the rais'd lover by the poet lives.

I With such a husband such a wife,
With Acme and Septimius' life,

is the conclusion of Cowley's beautiful imitation of Catulius. On those lines an excellent prolate has observed, that, to the honour of Cowley's morals and good taste, by a small deviation from his original, he has converted a loose love-poem into a sober epithalamium; we have all the grace, and what is more, all the warmth of Catullus, without his indecency. N.

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THE

LIFE OF SIR SAMUEL GARTH.

BY DR. JOHNSON.

SAMUEL GARTH was of a good family in Yorkshire, and from some school in his own country became a student at Peter-house in Cambridge, where he resided till he became doctor of physic on July the 7th, 1691. He was examined before the college at London on March the 12th, 1691-2, and adınitted fellow June 26th, 1693. He was soon so much distinguished by his conversation and accomplishments, as to obtain very extensive practice; and, if a pamphlet of those times may be credited, had the favour and confidence of one party, as Radcliffe had of the other.

He is always mentioned as a man of benevolence; and it is just to suppose that his desire of helping the helpless disposed him to so much zeal for the Dispensary; an undertaking, of which some account, however short, is proper to be given.

Whether what Temple says be true, that physicians have had more learning than the other faculties, I will not stay to inquire; but, I believe, every man has found in physicians great liberality and dignity of sentiment, very prompt effusion of beneficence, and willingness to exert a lucrative art where there is no hope of lucre. Agreeably to this character, the college of physicians, in July 1687, published an edict, requiring all the fellows, candidates, and licentiates, to give gratuitous advice to the neighbouring poor.

This edict was sent to the court of aldermen; and, a question being made to whom the appellation of the poor should be extended, the college answered, that it should be sufficient to bring a testimonial from the clergyman officiating in the parish where the patient resided.

After a year's experience, the physicians found their charity frustrated by some malignant opposition, and made to a great degree vain by the high price of physic; they therefore voted in August 1688, that the laboratory of the college should be accommodated to the preparation of medicines, and another room prepared for their reception; and that the contributors to the expense should manage the charity.

It was now expected, that the apothecaries would have undertaken the care of providing medicines; but they took another course. Thinking the whole design pernicious

to their interest, they endeavoured to raise a faction against it in the college, and found some physicians mean enough to solicit their patronage, by betraying to them the counsels of the college. The greater part, however, enforced by a new edict, in 1694, the former order of 1687, and sent it to the may or and aldermen, who appointed a committee to treat with the college, and settle the mode of administering the charity. It was desired by the aldermen, that the testimonials of churchwardens and overseers should be admitted; and that all hired servants, and all apprentices to handicraftsmen, should be considered as poor. This likewise was granted by the college.

It was then considered who should distribute the medicines, and who should settle their prices. The physicians procured some apothecaries to undertake the dispensation, and offered that the warden and company of the apothecaries should adjust the price. This offer was rejected; and the apothecaries who had engaged to assist the charity were considered as traitors to the company, threatened with the imposition of troublesome offices, and deterred from the performance of their engagements. The apothe caries ventured upon public opposition, and presented a kind of remonstrance against the design to the committee of the city, which the physicians condescended to confute; and at least the traders seem to have prevailed among the sons of trade; for the proposal of the college having been considered, a paper of approbation was drawn up, but postponed and forgotten.

The physicians still persisted; and in 1696 a subscription was raised by themselves, according to an agreement prefixed to the Dispensary. The poor were, for a time, supplied with medicines; for how long a time, I know not. The medicinal charity, like others, began with ardour, but soon remitted, and at last died gradually away.

About the time of the subscription begins the action of the Dispensary. The poem, as its subject was present and popular, co-operated with passions and prejudices then prevalent, and, with such auxiliaries to its intrinsic merit, was universally and liberally applauded. It was on the side of charity against the intrigues of interest, and of regular learning against licentious usurpation of medical authority, and was therefore naturally favoured by those who read and can judge of poetry.

In 1697, Garth spoke that which is now called the Harveian Oration; which the authors of the Biographia mention with more praise than the passage quoted in their notes will fully justify. Garth, speaking of the mischiefs done by quacks, has these expressions: "Non tamen telis vulnerat ista agyrtarum colluvies, sed theriacâ quâdam magis perniciosa, non pyrio, sed pulvere nescio quo exotico certat, non globulis plumbeis, sed pilulis æque lethalibus interficit." This was certainly thought fine by the author, and is still admired by his biographer. In October 1702, he became one of the censors of the college.

Garth, being an active and zealous Whig, was a member of the Kit-cat club, and, by consequence, familiarly known to all the great men of that denomination. In 1710, when the government fell into other hands, he writ to lord Godolphin, on his dismission, à short poem, which was criticised in the Examiner; and so successfully either defended or excused by Mr. Addison, that, for the sake of the vindication, it ought to be preserved. At the accession of the present family his merits were acknowledged and rewarded. He was knighted with the sword of his hero, Marlborough; and was made physician in ordinary to the king, and physician-general to the army.

He then undertook an edition of Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by several hands, which he recommended by a preface; written with more ostentation than ability; his

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