In peaceful thought, the field of death ſurvey’d
To fainting ſquadrons ſent the timely aid,
Inſpir’d repuls’d battalions to engage,
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage.
So when an Angel by divine command,
With riſing tempeſts ſhakes a guilty land,
Such as of late, o’er pale Britannia paſt,
Calm and ſerene, he drives the furious blaſt,
And, pleas’d th’ Almighty’s orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the ſtorm.
That this letter could not be written by Mr. Addiſon, there is all the evidence the nature of the thing will admit, to believe; for firſt, Sir Richard Steele avow’d it to be his, and in the next place, it is not probable that Mr. Addiſon himſelf had ſo high an opinion of this ſimile, as to call it as great as ever entered into the thought of man; for it has in reality no uncommon greatneſs in it. The image occurs a thouſand times in the book of Pſalms; ſo that it has not novelty to recommend it, and the manner of its being expreſſed, is no way extraordinary. The high terms in which it is celebrated, is the language of friendſhip, not of judgment. It is very probable Sir Richard Steele, warm’d with a favourite ſubject, and zealous for the fame of Addiſon, might expreſs himſelf thus hyperbolically concerning it; but Mr. Addiſon was too judicious a critic, to think or ſpeak of it in theſe terms, and was beſides too cautious to run the riſk of doing it himſelf in ſo public a manner. In a word, Mr. Oldmixon was an envious man, and we have ſeen with how little ground of reſentment he railed againſt Euſden, becauſe that gentleman was preferred to the Laurel.
Mr. Oldmixon joined the general cry of the underling writers againſt Mr. Pope; and wrote many letters in the Flying Poſt, with an intention to reduce his reputation, with as little ſucceſs as his other
