A Vindication of the Marquis of

ADDRESSED TO THAT VERY HONEST GENTLEMAN, MR. JOHN BULL. WRITTEN IN 1794.

O F the candidates, John, for thy favour of late,
Among all who are noble, and wish to be great,
Sure the Marquis with reason may fairly complain,
That his merits could never your confidence gain.
The moralist too will confess with a tear,
That virtue performs but a pilgrimage here;
Else had——long since been possess'd of that pow'r,
Which England took from him in splenetic hour:
He was always a friend to his Country's cause,
The prop of her church, the support of her laws;
He ne'er with republicans chose to accord,
And the world never call'd him the levelling lord!
He made the fam'd peace of the year eighty three!
A peace, John, as good for himself as for thee!
He spends half his wealth for the good of the nation,
To procure from all quarters the best information;
He as candidly then imparts all he knows,
Impartially both to his friends and his foes.
In his speech he is open and candid no doubt,
For which side he espouses no man can find out:
Whether Whig, whether Tory, of high church or low?
Your may puzzle your brains, but you never will know.
As a proof that the Marquis is no partizan,
Let the world call six persons his friends if it can!
Yet one friend he has lately acquired they say,
Who from gloomy oblivion emerges to day!
Report says that————, that amiable peer!
Having conquer'd at length his political fear,
In the vale of his life is persuaded again
To brave the keen searching of Junius's pen:
Ah! misguided————! forbear to expose
Thy impotent years to political woes;
Let oblivion o'ershadow the frailties of age,
Nor once more appear, to be hiss'd from the stage!
Now, good Mr. Bull, this digression excuse,
And return we to————, the boast of my muse.
Joe Miller, that man so renown'd at the bar!
More witty than Sheridan, learned than Parr;
Who punning despises as————does place,
Says his patron's pure mind is as fair as his face;
That his bounty and eloquence equally flow,
The weak to instruct, and to succour the low—
Yet this eloquent speaker! this statesman so just!
No sect will confide in, no party will trust:
And I speak it, alas! with reproach to mankind,
To his merit, and virtue, his country is blind!
And when full of honours and years he shall die,
Ungrateful Britannia will not heave a sigh;
Nay perhaps with a sneer, she may scoffingly say,
‘The Sun of my glory is faded away’!
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