"Be wicked as thou wilt, do all that's base, Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race; Let Vice and Folly thy Black Soul divide, Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride! Deaf to the voice of Faith and Honour, fall From side to side, yet be of none at all; Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties, Which Nature in her bounty, good as wise, To work our safety, and ensure her plan, Contriv'd to bind, and rivet man to man; Lift against Virtue Power's oppressive rod, Betray thy Country, and deny thy God; And, in one general comprehensive line, To group, which volumes scarcely could define, Whate'er of Sin and Dulness can be said. Join to a _F----'s_ heart a _D----'s_ head. Yet mayst thou pass unnotic'd in the throng, And, free from Envy, safely sneak along. The rigid Saint, by whom no mercy's shewn To Saints whose lives are better than his own, Shall spare thy crimes; and WIT, who never once Forgave a Brother, shall forgive a Dunce." After this nervous introduction, our satirist proceeds: "HOGARTH--I take thee, CANDOUR, at thy word, Accept thy proffer'd terms, and will be heard; Thee have I heard with virulence declaim, Nothing retain'd of Candour but the name; By thee have I been charg'd in angry strains With that mean falshood which my soul disdains-- HOGARTH, stand forth--Nay hang not thus aloof-- Now, CANDOUR, now Thou shalt receive such proof-- Such damning proof, that henceforth Thou shalt fear To tax my wrath, and own my conduct clear-- HOGARTH stand forth--I dare thee to be tried In that great Court, where Conscience must preside; At that most solemn bar hold up thy hand; Think before whom, on what account you stand--- Speak, but consider well--from first to last Review thy life, weigh every action past-- Nay, you shall have no reason to complain-- Take longer time, and view them o'er again-- Canst Thou remember from thy earliest youth, And as thy God must judge Thee, speak the truth, A single instance where, _Self_ laid aside, And Justice taking place of fear and pride, Thou with an equal eye didst GENIUS view, And give to Merit what was Merit's due? Genius and Merit are a sure offence, And thy soul sickens at the name of Sense. Is any one so foolish to succeed? On ENVY'S altar he is doom'd to bleed. HOGARTH, a guilty pleasure in his eyes, The place of Executioner supplies. See how he glotes, enjoys the sacred feast, And proves himself by cruelty a priest.