Now God preserve all wonder-hunting kings, Whether at Windsor, Buckingham, or Kew-house: And may they never do more foolish things Than visiting Sam Whitbread and his brewhouse. THE AUTHOR AND THE STATESMAN [ADDRESSED BY FIELDING TO SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.] While at the helm of state you ride, Our nation's envy, and its pride; While foreign courts with wonder gaze, And curse those councils which they praise; Would you not wonder, sir, to view Your bard a greater man than you? Which that he is you can not doubt, When you have read the sequel out. You know, great sir, that ancient fellows, Philosophers, and such folks, tell us, No great analogy between Greatness and happiness is seen. If then, as it might follow straight, WRETCHED to be, is to be GREAT; Forbid it, gods, that you should try What'tis to be so great as I! The family that dines the latest, Is in our street esteem'd the greatest; But latest hours must surely fall 'Fore him who never dines at all. Your taste in architect, you know, Hath been admired by friend and foe: But can your earthly domes compare With all my castles--in the air? We're often taught it doth behoove as To think those greater who're above us; Another instance of my glory, Who live above you, twice two story; And from my garret can look down On the whole street of ARLINGTON. Greatness by poets still is painted With many followers acquainted: This too doth in my favor speak; YOUR levee is but twice a week; From mine I can exclude but one day, My door is quiet on a Sunday. Nor in the manner of attendance, Doth your great bard claim less ascendance Familiar you to admiration May be approached by all the nation; While I, like the Mogul in INDO, Am never seen but at my window. If with my greatness you're offended, The fault is easily amended; For I'll come down, with wondrous ease, Into whatever PLACE you please. I'm not ambitious; little matters Will serve us great, but humble creatures. Suppose a secretary o' this isle, Just to be doing with a while; Admiral, gen'ral, judge, or bishop: Or I can foreign treaties dish up. If the good genius of the nation Should call me to negotiation, Tuscan and French are in my head, LATIN I write, and GREEK--I read. If you should ask, what pleases best? To get the most, and do the least. What fittest for?--You know, I'm sure; I'm fittest for--a SINE-CURE. THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE GRINDER. [Footnote: Some stanzas of the original poem, by Southey, are here subjoined:]