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party; yet difference of opinion did not keep us apart. I honoured him, and he endured me.

He had mingled with the gay world, without exemption from its vices or its follies, but had never neglected the cultivation of his mind; his belief of revelation was unshaken; his learning preserved his principles; he grew first regular, and then pious.

His studies had been so various, that I am not able to name a man of equal knowledge. His acquaintance with books was great; and what he did not immediately know, he could at least tell where to find. Such was his amplitude of learning, and such his copiousness of communication, that it may be doubted whether a day now passes in which I have not some advantage from his friendship.

At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive hours, with companions such as are not often found, with one who has lengthened, and one who has gladdened, life; with Dr. James, whose skill in physic will be long remembered, and with David Garrick, whom I hoped to have gratified with this character of our common friend : but what are the hopes of man! I am disappointed by that stroke of death, which has eclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the public stock of harmless pleasure. In the library at Oxford is the following ludicrous analysis of Pocockius:

mus

Ex AUTOGRAPHO.

[Sent by the author to Mr. Urry.]

OPUSCULUM hoc, Halberdarie amplissime, in lucem proferre hactenus distuli, judicii tui acumen subveritus magis quam bipennis. Tandem aliquando oden hanc ad te mitto sublimem, teneram, flebilem, suavem, qualem demum divinus (si Musis vacaret) scripsisset Gastrellus: adeo scilicet sublimem ut inter legendum dormire, adeo flebilem ut ridere velis. Cujus elegantiam ut melius inspicias, versuum ordinem & materiam breviter referam. 1m versus de duobus præliis decantatis. 2dus & 3us de Lotharingio, cuniculis subterraneis, saxis, ponto, hostibus, & Asiâ. 4tus & 5tus de catenis, sudibus, uncis, draconibus, tigribus & crocodilis. 6, 7, 8, 9us, de Gomorrhå, de Babylone, Babele, & quodam domi suæ peregrino. 10, aliquid de quodam Pocockio. 11, 12, de Syriâ, Solymâ. 13, 14", de Hoseâ, & quercu, & de juvene quodam valde sene. 15us, 16, de Ætnâ, & quomodo Ætna Pocockio fit valde similis. 17, 18us, de tubâ, astro, umbrâ, flammis, rotis, Pocockio non neglecto. Cætera de Christianis, Ottomanis, Babylonis, Arabibus, & gravissimâ agrorum melancholiâ; de Cæsare Flacco, Nestore, & miserando juvenis cujusdam florentissimi fato, anno ætatis suæ centesimo præmaturè abrepti. Quæ omnia cum accuratè expenderis, necesse est ut oden hanc meam admirandâ planè varietate constare fatearis. Subitò ad Batavos proficiscor, lauro ab illis donandus. Prius verò Pembrochienses voco ad certamen Poeticum. Vale.

Illustrissima tua deosculor crura.

E. SMITH.

4 Pro Flacco, animo paulo attentiore, scripsissem Marone.

PHÆDRA AND HIPPOLITUS,

A TRAGEDY.

TO THE RIGHT HON.

CHARLES LORD HALIFAX.

MY LORD,

As soon as it was made known that your lordship was not displeased with this play, my friends began to value themselves upon the interest they had taken in its success; I was touched with a vanity I had not before been acquainted with, and began to dream of nothing less than the immortality of my work.

And I had sufficiently shown this vanity in inscribing this play to your lordship, did I only consider you as one to whom so many admirable pieces, to whom the praises of Italy, and the best Latin poem since the Æneid, that on the peace of Ryswick, are consecrated. But it had been intolerable presumption to have addressed it to you, my lord, who are the nicest judge of poetry, were you not also the greatest encourager of it; to you who excel all the present age as a poet, did you not surpass all the preceding ones as a patron.

For in the times when the Muses were most encouraged, the best writers. were countenanced, but never advanced; they were admitted to the acquaintance of the greatest men, but that was all they were to expect. The bounty of the patron is no where to be read of but in the works of the poets, whereas your lordship's will fill those of the historians.

For what transactions can they write of, which have not been managed by some who were recommended by your lordship? 'Tis by your lordship's means, that the universities have been real nurseries for the state; that the

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courts abroad are charmed by the wit and learning, as well as the sagacity, of our ministers; that Germany, Switzerland, Muscovy, and even Turkey itself, begins to relish the politeness of the English; that the poets at home adorn that court which they formerly used only to divert; that abroad they travel, in a manner very unlike their predecessor Homer, and with an equipage he could not bestow, even on the heroes he designed to immortalize.

And this, my lord, shows your knowledge of men as well as writings, and your judgment no less than your generosity. You have distinguished between those who by their inclinations or abilities were qualified for the pleasure only, and those that were fit for the service of your country; you made the one easy, and the other useful: you have left the one no occasion to wish for any preferment, and you have obliged the public by the promotion of the others.

And now, my lord, it may seem odd that I should dwell on the topic of your bounty only, when I might enlarge on so many others; when I ought to take notice of that illustrious family from which you are sprung, and yet of the great merit which was necessary to set you on a level with it, and to raise you to that house of peers, which was already filled with your relations : when I ought to consider the brightness of your wit in private conversation, and the solidity of your eloquence in public debates; when I ought to admire in you the politeness of a courtier, and the sincerity of a friend; the openness of behaviour, which charms all who address themselves to you, and yet that hidden reserve, which is necessary for those great affairs in which you are concerned.

To pass over all these great qualities, my lord, and insist only on your generosity, looks as if I solicited it for myself; but to that I quitted all manner of claim when I took notice of your lordship's great judgment in the choice of those you advance; so that all at present my ambition aspires to is, that your lordship would be pleased to pardon this presumption, and permit me to profess myself, with the most profound respect,

your lordship's most humble,

and most obedient servant,

EDM. SMITH.

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GUARDS, ATTENDANTS.

Why did she give her person and her throne To one she loath'd?

LYCON.

Perhaps she thought it just That he should wear the crown his valour sav'd.

CRATANDER.

Could she not glut his hopes with wealth and honour,

Reward his valour, yet reject his love?
Why, when a happy mother, queen, and widow;
Why did she wed old Theseus? While his son,
The brave Hippolitus, with equal youth,
And equal beauty, might have fill'd her arms.

LYCON.

Hippolitus (in distant Scythia born, The warlike Amazon, Camilla's son),

[See the Prologue and Epilogue in the Poems of Till our queen's marriage, was unknown to Crete;

Addison and Prior.]

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Cratander and Lycon.

LYCON.

"TIS strange, Cratander, that the royal Phædra Should still continue resolute in grief,

And obstinately wretched:

That one so gay, so beautiful and young,
Of godlike virtue and imperial power,
Should fly inviting joys, and court destruction.

CRATANDER.

Is there not cause, when lately join'd in marriage, To have the king her husband call'd to war? Then for three tedious moons to mourn his absence, Nor know his fate?

LYCON.

The king may cause her sorrow, But not by absence. Oft I've seen him hang With greedy eyes, and languish o'er her beauties; She from his wide, deceiv'd, desiring arms Flew tasteless, loathing; whilst dejected Theseus, With mournful loving eyes pursu'd her flight, And dropt a silent tear.

CRATANDER.

Ha! this is hatred, This is aversion, horrour, detestation : Why did the queen, who might have cull'd mankind,

And sure the queen could wish him still unknown: She loaths, detests him, flies his hated presence, And shrinks and trembles at his very name.

CRATANDER.

Well may she hate the prince she needs must fear; He may dispute the crown with Phædra's son. He's brave, he's fiery, youthful, and belov'd; His courage charms the men, his form the women; His very sports are war.

LYCON.

O! he's all hero, scorns th' inglorious ease Of lazy Crete, delights to shine in arms, To wield the sword, and lanch the pointed spear: To tame the generous horse, that nobly wild Neighs on the hills, and dares the angry lion: To join the struggling coursers to his chariot, To make their stubborn necks the rein obey, To turn, to stop, or stretch along the plain. Now the queen's sick, there's danger in his cou

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Be ready with your guards.-I fear Hippolitus.
[Exit Crat.
Fear him for what? poor silly virtuous wretch,
Affecting glory, and contemning power:
Warm without pride, without ambition brave;
A senseless hero, fit to be a tool

To those whose godlike souls are turn'd for empire.
An open honest fool, that loves and hates,
And yet more fool to own it. He hates flatterers,
He hates me too; weak boy, to make a foc
Where he might have a slave. I hate him too,

But cringe, and flatter, fawn, adore, yet hate him. Let the queen live or die, the prince must fall.

Enter Ismena.

What! still attending on the queen, Ismena?
O charming virgin! O exalted virtue !
Can still your goodness conquer all your wrongs?
Are you not robb'd of your Athenian crown?
Was not your royal father, Pallas, slain,
And all his wretched race, by conquering Theseus?
And do you still watch er his consort Phædra,
And still repay such cruelty with love?

ISMENA.

Let them be cruel that delight in mischief, I'm of a softer mould, poor Phædra's sorrows Pierce through my yielding heart, and wound my soul.

LYCON.

Now thrice the rising Sun has cheer'd the world, Since she renew'd her strength with due refreshment;

Thrice has the night brought ease to man, to beast,
Since wretched Phædra clos'd her streaming eyes:
She flies all rest, all necessary food,
Resolv'd to die, nor capable to live.

ISMENA.

But now her grief has wrought her into frenzy; The images her troubled fancy forms Are incoherent, wild; her words disjointed: Sometimes she raves for music, light, and air; Nor air, nor light, nor music, calm her pains; Then with extatic strength she springs aloft, And moves and bounds with, vigour not her own.

LYCON.

Then life is on the wing, then most she sinks When most she seems reviv'd. Like boiling water That foams and hisses o'er the crackling wood, And bubbles to the brim; ev'n then most wasting, When most it swells.

ISMENA.

My lord, now try your art; Her wild disorder may disclose the secret Her cooler sense conceal'd; the Pythian goddess Is dumb and sullen, till with fury fill'd She spreads, she rises, growing to the sight, She stares, she foams, she raves; the awful secrets Burst from her trembling lips, and ease the tortur'd maid.

But Phædra comes, ye gods! how pale, how weak!

Enter Phædra and Attendants.
PHÆDRA.

Stay, virgins, stay, I'll rest my weary steps; My strength forsakes me, and my dazzled eyes Ake with the flashing light, my loosen'd knees Sink under their dull weight; support me, Lycon. Alas! I faint.

LYCON.

Afford her ease, kind Heaven!

PHÆDRA.

Why blaze these jewels round my wretched head! Why all this labour'd elegance of dress!

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Come, let's away, and thou, most bright Diana, Goddess of woods, immortal, chaste Diana! Goddess presiding o'er the rapid race, Place me, O place me in the dusty ring Where youthful charioteers contend for glory! See how they mount and shake the flowing reins! See from the goal the fiery coursers bound, Now they strain panting up the steepy hill, Now sweep along its top, now neigh along the vale! How the car rattles! how its kindling wheels Smoke in the whirl! The circling sand ascends, And in the noble dust the chariot's lost!

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