A Catalogue of the Royal and Noble Authors of England, Scotland, and Ireland: With Lists of Their Works, Volume 4

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Page 315 - A character so exalted, so strenuous, so various, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age; and the treasury trembled at the name of Pitt, through all her classes of venality. Corruption imagined, indeed, that she had found defects in this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories ; but the history of his country, and the calamities of the enemy, answered and refuted her.
Page 126 - Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt, And most contemptible, to shun contempt; His passion still, to covet general praise, His life, to forfeit it a thousand ways; A constant bounty which no friend has made; An angel tongue, which no man can persuade; A fool, with more of wit than half mankind, Too rash for thought, for action too refined...
Page 201 - Seen him, uneumber'd with the venal tribe, Smile without art, and win without a bribe. Would he oblige me? let me only find, He does not think me what he thinks mankind.
Page 109 - The lust of lucre, and the dread of death. In vain to deserts thy retreat is made, The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade ; 'Tis hers the brave man's latest steps to trace, Rejudge his acts, and dignify disgrace. When Interest calls off all her sneaking train, And all th...
Page 126 - Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days, Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise ; Born with whate'er could win it from the wise, 'Women and fools must like him, or he dies : Though wondering senates hung on all he spoke, The club must hail him master of the joke.
Page 304 - Know, every maid, from her own patten To her who shines in glossy satin, That could they now prepare an oglio From best receipt of book in folio, Ever so fine, for all their puffing, I should prefer a butter'd muffin ; A muffin, Jove himself might feast on, If eaten with Miller, at Batheaston.
Page 391 - If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me ; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
Page 58 - Proud as Apollo on his forked hill, Sat full-blown Bufo, puff'd by every quill ; Fed with soft dedication all day long, Horace and he went hand in hand in song.
Page 384 - midst the pangs of death. Whoe'er thou art that dost this tomb draw near, O stay awhile, and shed a friendly tear ; These lines, tho' weak, are as herself sincere.
Page 84 - A state also of equality, wherein all the power and jurisdiction is reciprocal, no one having more than another ; there being nothing more evident than that creatures of the same species and rank, promiscuously born to all the same advantages of nature, and the use of the same faculties, should also be equal one amongst another without subordination or subjection...

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