season (continued to 1740) played upwards of forty nights, to great audiences, with continued mirthful applause.  As this is a truth, I give it to the candid; and let the relation take its chance, though it should not be thought by some (who may not abound in good nature) that I only mean by this, to pay due regard to the merit of the piece, though it speaks for itself; for, without extraordinary merit in the writing, it could never have gained such an uncommon run, at the distance of fourscore years from its being first written, when most of those pieces were forgot which it particularly satirises; or, if remembered, they were laughed into fame by the strong mock-parodies with which this humorous piece of admirable burlesque abounds.

Mr. Dryden, in revenge for the ridicule thrown on him in this piece, exposed the duke under the name of Zimri in his Absalom and Achitophel.  This character, drawn by Dryden, is reckoned a masterpiece; it has the first beauty, which is truth; it is a striking picture, and admirably marked:  We need make no apology for inserting it here; it is too excellent to pass unnoticed.

  In the first rank of these did Zimri stand: 
  A man so various that he seemed to be
  Not one, but all mankind’s epitome. 
  Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;
  Was every thing by starts, and nothing long;
  But, in the course of one revolving moon,
  Was Chymist, fidler, statesman, and buffoon: 
  Then all for women, painting, rhiming, drinking;
  Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. 
  Blest madman, who could every hour employ,
  In something new to wish, or to enjoy! 
  Railing, and praising were his usual themes,
  And both, to shew his judgment, in extremes;
  So over violent, or over civil,
  That every man with him was God, or devil. 
  In squandering wealth was his peculiar art;
  Nothing went unrewarded but desert. 
  Beggar’d by fools, whom still he found too late,
  He had his jest, and they had his estate. 
  He laught himself from court, then sought relief,
  By forming parties, but could ne’er be chief. 
  Thus wicked, but in will, of means bereft,
  He left not faction, but of that was left.

It is allowed by the severest enemies of this nobleman, that he had a great share of vivacity, and quickness of parts, which were particularly turned to ridicule; but while he has been celebrated as a wit, all men are silent as to other virtues, for it is no where recorded, that he ever performed one generous disinterested action in his whole life; he relieved no distressed merit; he never shared the blessing of the widow and fatherless, and as he lived a profligate, he died in misery, a by-word and a jest, unpitied and unmourned.

He died April 16, 1687, Mr. Wood says, at his house in Yorkshire, but Mr. Pope informs us, that he died at an inn in that county, in very mean circumstances.  In his Epistle to lord Bathurst, he draws the following affecting picture of this man, who had possessed an estate of near 50,000 l. per annum, expiring,