But, for my part, I have not malice enough to wish him so
much harm,--not so much as to have a hair of his head perish, much
less that one whole side of it should be dismantled. I am no informer,
who writ such a song, or such a libel; if the dulness betrays him not,
he is safe for me. And may the same dulness preserve him ever from
public justice; it is a sufficient thick mud-wall betwixt him and law;
it is his guardian angel, that protects him from punishment, because,
in spite of him, he cannot deserve it. It is that which preserves him
innocent when he means most mischief, and makes him a saint when he
intends to be a devil. He can never offend enough, to need the mercy
of government, for it is beholden to him, that he writes against it;
and he never offers at a satire, but he converts his readers to a
contrary opinion.
Some of the succeeding paragraphs are intended for very Ciceronian:
there the lawyer flourishes in the pulpit, and the poet stands in
socks among the crowd to hear him. Now for narration, resolution,
calumniation, aggravation, and the whole artillery of tropes and
figures, to defend the proceedings at Guild-hall. The most minute
circumstances of the elections are described so lively, that a man,
who had not heard he was there in a livery-gown, might suspect there
was a _quorum pars magna fui_ in the case; and multitudes of electors,
just as well qualified as himself, might give their party the greater
number: but throw back their gilt shillings, which were told for
guineas, and their true sum was considerably less.
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