Himself condemn’d what sensual minds admir’d. 
  At length he own’d that plays should let you see
  Not only what you are, but ought to be: 
  Though vice was natural, ’twas never meant,
  The stage should shew it, but for punishment! 
  Warm with that thought his muse once more took flame,
  Resolv’d to bring licentious life to shame. 
  Such was the piece, his latest pen design’d’,
  But left no traces of his plan behind. 
  Luxurious scenes, unprun’d, or half contriv’d;
  Yet, through the mass, his native fire surviv’d: 
  Rough as rich oar, in mines the treasure lay,
  Yet still ’twas rich, and forms at length a play. 
  In which the bold compiler boasts no merit,
  But that his pains have sav’d you scenes of spirit. 
  Not scenes that would a noisy joy impart,
  But such as hush the mind, and warm the heart. 
  From praise of hands, no sure account he draws,
  But fix’d attention is, sincere applause. 
  If then (for hard you’ll own the task) his art
  Can to those Embrion scenes new life impart;
  The living proudly would exclude his lays,
  And to the buried bard resign the praise.

Sir John indeed appears to have been often sensible of the immorality of his scenes; for in the year 1725 when the company of comedians was called upon, in a manner that could not be resisted, to revive the Provok’d Wife, the author, who was conscious how justly it was exposed to censure, thought proper to substitute a new scene in the fourth act, in place of another, in which, in the wantonness of his wit and humour, he had made a Rake talk like a Rake, in the habit of a Clergyman.  To avoid which offence, he put the same Debauchee into the Undress of a Woman of Quality; for the character of a fine lady, it seems, is not reckoned so indelibly sacred, as that of a Churchman.  Whatever follies he exposed in the petticoat kept him at least clear of his former imputed prophaneness, and appeared now to the audience innocently ridiculous.

This ingenious dramatist died of a quinsey at his house in Whitehall, on the 26th of March 1726.  He was a man of a lively imagination, of a facetious, and engaging humour, and as he lived esteemed by all his acquaintance, so he died without leaving ons enemy to reproach his memory; a felicity which few men of public employments, or possessed of so distinguished a genius, ever enjoyed.  He has left behind him monuments of fame, which can never perish but with taste and politeness.

[Footnote A:  The two first were never printed from Sir John’s manuscript.]

* * * * *

Sir Richard Steele, Knt.

This celebrated genius was born in Ireland.  His father being a counsellor at law, and private secretary to James duke of Ormond, he went over with his grace to that kingdom, when he was raised to the dignity of lord lieutenant[A].  Our author when but very young, came over into England; and was educated at the Charter-House school in London, where Mr. Addison was his school-fellow, and where they contracted a friendship which continued firm till the death of that great man.