Ingratitude he often found, And pitied those who meant the wound: He left the court in mere despair "And, oh! how short are human schemes! Here ended all our golden dreams. What St. John's skill in state affairs, What Ormond's valour, Oxford's cares, *Queen Anne's ministry fell to variance from the first year after its commencement: Harcourt the chancellor, and the secretary Bolingbroke, were discontented with the treasurer Oxford, for his too great mildness to the whigs; this quarrel grew higher every day until the queen's death. The Dean, who was the only person that endeavoured to reconcile them, found it impossible; and thereupon retired into Berkshire, about ten weeks before that event, H. In the height of the quarrel between the ministers, the queen died, Aug. 1, 1714. H. On the queen's demise, the whigs were restored to power, which they exercised with the utmost rage and revenge; im. peached and banished the chief leaders of the church party and stripped all their adherents of what employments they had H To turn religion to a fable, "The Dean did, by his pen, defeat Upon the queen's death, the Dean returned to Dublin: yet numberless libels were written against him in England; he was insulted in the street, and at night was forced to be attended by his servants armed. H. + Wood, a hardwareman from England, had a patent for coining copper halfpence for Ireland, to the sum of 108,000l. which, in the consequence, must have left that kingdom without gold or Mver, H. While they who at the steerage stood, As modern Scroggs †, or old Tresilian ; *Whitshed was then chief justice. He had some years before prosecuted a printer for a pamphlet written by the Dean, to persuade the people of Ireland to wear their own manufactures. Whitshed sent the jury down eleven times, and kept them nine hours until they were forced to bring in a special verdict. He sat afterward on the trial of the printer of the Drapier's fourth letter; but the jury, against all he could say or swear, threw out the bill. All the kingdom took the Drapier's part, except the courtiers, or those who expected places. Whitshed died Aug. 26, 1727, (having a few months before exchanged his place in the king's bench, which he had held ten or twelve years, for the same office in the common pleas): and archbishop Boulter says, his uneasiness upon some affronts he met with helped to shorten his days. These affronts were certainly the satires of the Dean and his friends. H. Sir William Scroggs, chief justice of the king's bench in the reign of king Charles the Second, was a man of low birth, and raised himself as much by means of his debaucheries, as of his abilities in his profession. He was preferred for professing loyalty; but, Oates's plot coming forward, he exerted himself very much on the side of that informer, though he afterward changed again, and was equally violent against him. For some dirty jobs, which he did to oblige the court, he was impeached in parliament; but the matter never was proceeded upon. While at the bar, he was always necessitous; but, during his preferment, he took care to secure a good fortune for himself, having in that period purchased the manor of Brentwood, in Essex. He afterward died, in Essex street, of a polypus in the heart. N. Sir Robert Tresilian was chief justice of England in the time of Richard the Second. He was adviser of many illegal acts in that reign, for which he was impeached, with several other judges and some noblemen, in parliament. Being convicted of the offences he was charged with, he was executed, February 19, 1388. N. Who long all justice had discarded, "In exile*, with a steady heart, * squires to market brought; To *** the church, their tenants rack, And keep the peace, to pick up fees: A gaol or turnpike to repair; * In Ireland, which he had reason to call a place of exile: to which country nothing could have driven him but the queen's death, who had determined to fix him in England, in spite of the duchess of Somerset, &c. H. And turn the tax for publick roads, Perhaps I may allow the Dean Had too much satire in his vein; And seem'd determin'd not to starve it, Because no age could more deserve it. Yet malice never was his aim; He lash'd the vice, but spar'd the name, Where thousands equally were meant; |