ght be a truly publick Benefit, such a one, and
only such a one, might have an uncontested Right----

--------_To point the Pen,
Brand the bold Front of shameless, guilty Men;
Dash the proud Gamester, in his gilded Car,
Bare the mean Heart that lurks beneath a Star._

But should another (though of equal Genius) whose Mind were either
sour'd by Ill-nature, personal Prejudice, or the Lust of Railing, usurp
that Province to the Abuse of it. Not all his pompous Power of Verse
could shield him from as odious a Censure, as such, his guilty Pen could
throw upon the Innocent, or undeserving to be slander'd. What then must
be the Consequence? Why naturally this: That such an Indulgence of his
Passions, so let loose upon the World, would, at last, reduce him to fly
from it! For sure the Avoidance, the Slights, the scouling Eyes of every
mixt Company he might fall into, would be a Mortification no
vain-glorious Man would stand, that had a Retreat from it. Here then,
let us suppose him an involuntary Philosopher, affecting to
be----_Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solus_----never in better Company
than when alone: But as you have well observed in your Essay----

_Not always_ Actions _shew the Man--
Not therefore humble He, who seeks Retreat,
Guilt guides his Steps, and makes him shun the Great._

(I beg your Pardon, I have made a Mistake; Your Verse says _Pride_
guides his Steps, _&c._ which, indeed, makes the Antithesis to _Humble_
much stronger, and more to your Purpose; but it will serve mine as it
is, so the Error is scarce worth a Correction.) But to return to our
Satyrical Exile,----Whom though we have supposed to be oftner alone,
than an inoffensive Man need wish to be; yet we must imagine that the
Fame of his Wit would sometimes bring him Company: For Wits, like
handsome Women, though they wish one another at the Devil, are my Dear,
and my Dear! whenever they meet: Nay some Men are so fond of Wit, that
they would mix with the Devil himself if they could laugh with him: If
therefore any of this careless Cast came to kill an Hour with him, how
would his smiling Verse gloss over the Curse of his Confinement, and
with a flowing animated Vanity commemorate the peculiar Honours they had
paid him?

But alas! would his high Heart be contented, in his having the Choice of
his Acquaintance so limited? How many for their Friends, others for
themselves, and some too in the Dread of being the future Objects of his
S