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She is made Mistris of her passions and concupiscence, Lady of indulgence, of shame, of povertie, and of all for tunes injuries. in manicis, et Compedibus, savo te sub custode tenebo. Ipse Deus simui atque volam, me solvet: opinor Hoc sentit, moriar. I. i.
"In manicis et Compedibus, sævo te sub custode tenebo." Opinor, Hoc sentit: Moriar. Mors ultima linea rerum est. I conclude this notice of Liberalism in Oxford, and the party which was antagonistic to it, with some propositions in detail, which, as a member of the latter, and together with the High Church, I earnestly denounced and abjured.
It may be observed, that these two poems were produced by events that really happened; and may, therefore, be of use to prove, that we can always feel more than we can imagine, and that the most artful fiction must give way to truth. I am, Sir, Your humble servant, No. 95. Dulcique animos novitate tenebo. OVID. Met. iv. 284. And with sweet novelty your soul detain.
Let us, therefore, as many of us as can, get this advantage; 'tis the true and sovereign liberty here on earth, that fortifies us wherewithal to defy violence and injustice, and to contemn prisons and chains: "In manicis et Compedibus saevo te sub custode tenebo. Ipse Deus, simul atque volam, me solvet. Opinor, Hoc sentit; moriar; mors ultima linea rerum est."
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