[Footnote 1:  This fable is one of the vain remonstrances by which Swift strove to close the breach between Oxford and Bolingbroke, in the last period of their administration, which, to use Swift’s own words, was “nothing else but a scene of murmuring and discontent, quarrel and misunderstanding, animosity and hatred;” so that these two great men had scarcely a common friend left, except the author himself, who laboured with unavailing zeal to reconcile their dissensions.—­Scott. With this exception, the notes are from the Dublin Edition.—­W.  E. B.]

[Footnote 2:  The bundle of rods carried before the Consuls at Rome.]

[Footnote 3:  The dilatory Earl of Oxford.]

[Footnote 4:  Lord Chancellor.]

[Footnote 5:  Sir Edward Northey, attorney-general, brought in by Lord Harcourt; yet very desirous of the Great Seal.]

[Footnote 6:  Who had been at different times Lord Chancellor and President of the Council.]

[Footnote 7:  Afterwards Secretary of State].

IMITATION OF PART OF THE SIXTH SATIRE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE.[1] 1714

I often wish’d that I had clear,
For life, six hundred pounds a-year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden’s end,
A terrace walk, and half a rood
Of land, set out to plant a wood. 
  Well, now I have all this and more,
I ask not to increase my store;[2]
But should be perfectly content,
Could I but live on this side Trent;[3]
Nor cross the channel twice a-year,
To spend six months with statesmen here. 
  I must by all means come to town,
’Tis for the service of the crown. 
“Lewis, the Dean will be of use;
Send for him up, take no excuse.” 
The toil, the danger of the seas,
Great ministers ne’er think of these;
Or let it cost a hundred pound,
No matter where the money’s found,
It is but so much more in debt,
And that they ne’er consider’d yet. 
  “Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown,
Let my lord know you’re come to town.” 
I hurry me in haste away,
Not thinking it is levee-day;
And find his honour in a pound,
Hemm’d by a triple circle round,
Chequer’d with ribbons blue and green: 
How should I thrust myself between? 
Some wag observes me thus perplex’d,
And, smiling, whispers to the next,
“I thought the Dean had been too proud,
To justle here among a crowd!”
Another, in a surly fit,
Tells me I have more zeal than wit. 
“So eager to express your love,
You ne’er consider whom you shove,
But rudely press before a duke.” 
I own I’m pleased with this rebuke,
And take it kindly meant, to show
What I desire the world should know. 
  I get a whisper, and withdraw;
When twenty fools I never saw
Come with petitions fairly penn’d,
Desiring I would stand their friend. 
  This humbly offers me his case;