Give me th’avowed, th’erect, the manly foe,
Bold I can meet—perhaps may turn his blow;
But of all plagues, good Heav’n, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh! save me from the Candid Friend!

These lines are commonly attributed to George Canning in the context of late‑18th/early‑19th‑century British political and social satire, where “candour” could be a fashionable mask for malice. Canning, a leading parliamentary wit, moved in circles where pamphlets, epigrams, and verse were used to score points and to police reputations. The couplets contrast the straightforward, openly hostile opponent with the more dangerous figure who claims friendly intentions while delivering cutting “honest” criticism. The appeal to Heaven (“thy wrath can send”) frames the “candid friend” as a social scourge—someone whose professed sincerity makes their attacks harder to rebut without seeming thin‑skinned or guilty.

The speaker asks to face an “avowed” and “erect” enemy—someone who attacks openly and honorably—because such hostility is intelligible and can be resisted. The real danger, framed as a divine “plague,” is the “Candid Friend”: a person who claims the virtue of candor (plain speaking) but uses it as a cover for cruelty, betrayal, or self-serving criticism. The irony is that “candor,” normally a moral good, becomes a weapon when detached from loyalty and charity. The couplet captures a perennial social insight: criticism from within one’s circle can wound more deeply and do more lasting damage than attacks from declared opponents.