But let your heart sincerer praise

She spies Cornuto on the stairs; Bestow on these or Charles's days :

Wakes you; then, melted by your prayers, You still approve some absent place.

Yields, if with greater bribe you ask it, (The present's ever in disgrace!)

To pack your worship in the basket. And, 'such your special inconsistence,

Laid neck and heels, true Falstaff-fashion, Make the chief merit in the distance.

There form new schemes of reforination. If e'er you miss a supper-card

Thus 'scap'd the murd'ring husband's fury, (Though all the while you think it hard,) Or thumping fine of cuckold jury; You're all for solitude and quiet,

Henceforth, in memory of your danger, Good hours and vegetable diet,

You'll live to all intrigues a stranger? Reflection, air, and elbow-room :

No; ere you've time for this reflection, No prison like a crowded drum!

Some new debauch is in projection; But, should you meet her Grace's suinmons And, for the next approaching night, In full committee of the Commons,

Contrivance for another fright. Though well you know her crowded house This makes you, though so great, so grave, Will scarce contain another mouse,

(Nay! wonder not) an abject slave ; You quit the business of the nation,

| As much a slave as I ; nay, more: And brethren of the reformation;

| I serve one master, you a score, Though

begs you 'll stay and vote, | And, as your various passions rule, And zealous - tears your coat,

By turns are twenty tyrants' fool. You damn your coachman, storm and stare, Memb Who then is free? Serv. The wir And tear your throat to call a chair. Nay, never frown, and good-now hold Who only bows to reason's throne; Your hand a while; I've been so 'bold Whom neither want, nor death, nor chains, To paint your follies; now I'm in,

Nor subtle persecutors' pains, Let's have a word or two on sin.

Nor honors, wealth, nor Just, can move Last night I heard a learned poult'rer From virtue and his country's love. Lay down the law against th' adulterer ; Self-guarded like a globe of steel, And let me tell you, Sir, that few

External insults can he feel, Hear better doctrine im a pew.

Or e'er present one weaker part Well! you may laugh at Robin Hood, To Fortune's most insidious dart? I wish your studies were as good.

Much-honor'd master, may you find From Mandeville you take your inorals; These wholesome symptoms in your mind! Your faith from controversial quarrels; Can you be free while passions rule you; But ever lean to those who scribble

While women every moment fool you; Their crudities against the Bible;

While forty mad capricious whores Yet tell me I shall crack my brain

Invite, then turn you out of doors; With hearing Henley * or Romaine.

Of every doit contrive to trick you, Deserves that critic most rebuke

Then bid their happier footman kick you? In judging on the Pentateuch,

Convinc'd by every new disaster Who deems it; with some wild fanatics, You serve a new despotic master; The only school of mathematics;

Say, can your pride and folly see Or he, who, making grave profession

Such difference 'twixt yourself and me? To lay aside all prepossession,

Shall you be struck with Titian's tints, Calls it a bookseller's edition

And mayn't I stop to stare at prints? Of maim'd records and vague tradition? Dispos'd along the extensive glass,

You covet, Sir, your neighbour's goods ; They catch and hold me ere I pass. I take a piece at Peter Wood's t :

Where Slack is made to box with Brough And when I've turn'd my back upon her, Unwounded in my heart or honor,

I see the very stage they fought on: I feel nor infamous, nor jealous

The bruisers live, and move, and bleed, Of richer culls, or prettier fellows.

As if they fought in very deed.
But you, the grave and sage reformer, Yet I'm a loiteter, to be sure;
Must go by stealth to meet your charmer; You a great judge and connoisseur!
Must change your star, and every note

Shall you prolong the midnight ball
Of honor, for a bear-skin coat:

With costly banquet at Vauxhall; That legislative head so wise

And yet prohibit earlier suppers Must stoop to base and mean disguise. At Kilbourn, Sadler's-wells, or Cuper's ?? Some Abigail must then receive you,

Are these less innocent in fact, Brib'd by the husband to deceive you. | Or only made so by the act ?


'. The celebrated orator of Clare Market.

+ This worthy a few years before fell under the displeasure of the mob, who broke into be house, near St. Clement's, and burnt all his furniture, which they threw into the street.

1 Places of entertainment at that time. Two of them have been since shut up.

Those who contribute to the tax,

Were there the least regard for merit! On tea, and chocolate, and wax*,

The rich in purse are poor in spirit. With high ragouts their blood inflame, You know Sir Pagode (here, I'll give ye And nauseate what they eat for fame;

A front I've drawn him for a privy) Of these the Houses take no knowledge, This winter, Sir, as I'm a sinner, But leave them fairly to the College.

He has not ask'd me once to dinner.” 0! ever prosper their endeavours

Quite overpowered with this intrusion, To aid your dropsies, gouts, and fevers ! I stood in silence and confusion. Can it be deem'd a shame or sin

He tooh the advantage, and pursued : To pawn my livery for gin;

Perhaps, Sir, you may think me rude; While bonds and inortgages at White's But sure I may suppose my talk Shall raise your fame with Arthur's knights? | Will less disturb you while you walk. Those worthies seem to see no shame in, And yet I now may spoil a thought, Nor strive to pass a slur on, gaming;

But that's indeed a venial fault :But rather to devise each session

I only mean to such, d’ye see, Some law in honor o' the profession;

Who write with ease, like you and me. Lest sordid hands or vulgar place

I write a sonnet in a minute :
The noble mystery should debase;

Upon iny soul, there's nothing in it.
Lest ragged scoundrels, in an ale-house, But you to all your friends are partial :
Should chalk their cheatings on the bellows; | You reckon *** another Martial-
Or boys the sacred rites profane

He'd think a fortnight well bestow'd
With orange-barrows in a lane.

To write an epigram or ode. Where lies the merit of your labors

****'s no poet, to my knowledge ; To curb the follies of your neighbours;

I knew him very well at college : Deter the gambler, and prevent his

I've writ more verses in an hour, Confederate arts to gull the 'prentice;

Than he could ever do in four. Unless you could yourself desist

You'll find me better worth your knowing From hazard, faro, brag, and whist;

But tell me, which way are you going?" Unless your philosophic mind

What various tumults swellid my breast, Can from within amusement find,

With passion, shame, disgust, opprest!
And give at once to use and pleasure

This courtship from my Brother Poet.
That truly precious time, your leisure? Sure no similitude can show it:
In vain your busy thoughts prepare

Not young Adonis when pursu'd * Deceitful sepulchres of care :

| By amorous antiquated prude; The downy couch, the sparkling bowl, Nor Gulliver's distressful face, And all that lulls or soothes the soul

When in the Yahoo's loath'd embrace. Memb. Where is my cane, my whip, my In rage, confusion and dismay, hanger?

Not knowing what to do or say; I'll teach you to provoke my anger.

And having no resource but lyingServ. Heyday! my master's brain is crack'd, A friend at Lambeth lies a-dyingOr else he's making some new act.

“ Lambeth !" (he re-assumes his talk) Memb. To set such rogues as you to work, « Across the bridge the finest walkPerhaps, or send you to the Turk f.

Don't you admire the Chinese bridges,
That wave in furrows and in ridges !
They've finish'd such a one at Hampton :
'Faith, 'twas a plan I never dreamt on-

The prettiest thing that e'er was seen
6235. The Intruder. In Imitation of Horace, 'Tis printed in the Magazine.'
Sat. I. ix. First printed in 1754.

This wild farrago who could bear?

Sometimes I run; then stop and stare : A CERTAIN free, familiar spark,

Vex'd and tormented to the quick, Pertly accosts me in the Park :

By turns grow choleric and sick ; “ Tis lovely weather, sure! how gay

And glare my eye, and show the white,
The sun !- I give you, Sir, good-day.” Like vicious horses when they bite.
Your servant, Sir. To you the same-

Regardless of my eye or ear,
But-give me leave to crave your name. His jargon he renews.-" D'ye hear
“My name? Why sure you've seen my face | Who 'twas compos'd the tailor's dance ?
About in every public place.

I practis'd fifteen months in France :
I'm known to almost all your friends

| I wrote a play-'twas done in haste(No one e'er names you but commends) , I know the present want of taste, For some I plant; for some I build;

And dare not trust it on the townIn every taste and fashion skillid

I No tragedy will e'er go down;

* It was urged in the petitions of some of the houses of public entertainment, that the suppression of them might greatly diminish the duties on tea, chocolate, and wax-lights.

7. Among the many projecis for the punishment of rogues, it has been frequently proposed to send them in exchange for English slaves in Algiers.

The new burletta now's the thing

My Lord-Sir William (I began) Pray did you ever hear me sing?"

Has given me power to state a plan, Never indeed“ Next time we meet

To settle every thing between you; We're just now coming to the street.

And so'tis lucky that I've seen you. Bless me! I had almost forgot:

This morning-" Hold," replies the peer, There's poor Jack Stiles will go to pot. And tips me a malicious leer, Sir Scrutiny has press'd me daily

“ Against good-breeding to offend, To be this hour at the Old Bailey,

And rudely take you from your FRIEND!" To witness to his good behaviour:

(His lordship, by the way, can spy My uncle's voter, under favor

How matters go, with half an eye; Egad, I'm puzzled what to do,

And loves in proper time and place, To save him will be losing you:

To laugh behind the gravest face.) Yet we must save him if we can,

" 'Tis Saturday I should not choose For he's a staunch one, a Dead Man*." To break the Sabbath of the JEWS." By your account he's so indeed,

The Jews, my lord !-"Why, since this potker, Unless you make some better speed.

I own I'm grown a younger brother : This moment fly to save your friend

Faith, persecution is no joke; Or clse prepare him for his end.

I once was going to have spoke.“ Hang him, he's but a single vote;

Bus' noss may stay till Monday night: I wish the halter round his throat.

"Tis prudent, to be sure you're right." To Lambeth I attend you, Sir."

He went his way. I rav'd and fum'd: Upon my soul! you shall not stir.

To what ill fortune am I doom'd! Preserve your voter from the gallows :

But fortune had, it seems, decreed Can human nature be so callous,

That moment for my being freed. So negligent when life's at stake?

Our talk, which had been somewhat loud, “I'd hang a hundred for your sake."

Insensibly the market-crowd I wish you'd do as much by me

Around my persecutor drew, Or any thing to set me free.

And made them take hina for a Jew. Deaf to my words, he talks along,

To me the caitiff now appeals;
Still louder than the buzzing throng.

But I took fairly to my heels;
“ Are you," he cries, “ as well as ever | And, pitiless of his condition,
With Lady Grace ? she's vastly clever !" On brink of Thames and Inquisition,
Her merit all the world declare :

Left him to take his turn, and listen
Few, very few, her friendship share.

To each uncircumcis'd Philistine. “ If you'd contrive to introduce

O Phæbus ! happy he whose trust is
Your friend here, you might find an use" | In thee, and thy poetic justice !

Sir, in that house there's no such doing,
And the attempt would be one's ruin.
No art, no project, no designing,
No rivalship, and no outshining.

$ 236. Horace, Book I. Ep. VII. Addressed “ Indeed! you make me long the more

to the Earl of Oxford. 1713. To get admittance. Is the door Kept by so rude, so hard a clown,

Harley, the nation's great support, As will not melt at half-a-crown?

Returning home one day from court, Can't I cajole the female tribe,

(His mind with public cares possest, And gain her woman with a bribe?

All Europe's business in his breast,) Refus'd to-day, suck up my sorrow,

Observ'd a parson near Whitehall And take my chance again to-morrow? Cheap'ning old authors on a stall. Is there no shell-work to be seen,

The priest was pretty well in case, Or Chinese chair, or Indian screen;

And show'd some humour in his face; No cockatoo nor marmozet,

Look'd with an easy, careless mien, Lap-dog, gold-fish, nor paroquet?

A perfect stranger to the spleen ; No French embroidery on a quilt?

Of size that might a pulpit fill, And no bow-window to be built?

But more inclining to sit still. Can't I contrive, at times, to meet

My lord (who, if a man may say 't, My lady in the park or street ?

Loves mischief better than his meat) At opera, play, or morning prayer,

Was now dispos d w crack a jest; To hand her to her coach or chair?"

And bid friend Lewis i go in quest But now his voice, though late so loud, (This Lewis is a cunning shaver, Was lost in the contentious crowd

And very much in Harley's favor) Of fish-wives newly corporate,

In quest who might this parson be, A colony from Billingsgate t.

What was his name, of what degree; That instant on the bridge I spied

If possible, to learn his story, Lord Truewit coming from his ride.

| And whether he were Whig or Tory.

• A cant terun for a sure vote. The fish-market at Westminster, just then opened. | Erasmus Lewis, Esq. the treasurer's secretary.

Lewis his patron's humor knows,

| Two dozen canons round your stall, Away upon his errand goes,

And you the tyrant o'er them all : And quickly did the matter sist,

You need but cross the Irish seas, Found out that it was Doctor Dwift;

To live in plenty, pow'r, and ease.” A clergyman of special note

Poor Swift departs; and, what is worse, For shunning those of his own coat;

With borrowd money in his purse; Which made his brethren of the gown

Travels at least a hundred leagues, Take care at times to run him down:

And suffers numberless fatigues. No libertine, nor over-nice,

Suppose him now a Dean complete,
Addicted to no sort of vice,

Demurely lolling in his seat;
Went where he pleas'd, said what he thought, The silver verge, with decent pride,
Not rich, but owed no man a groat;

Stuck underneath his cushion-side;
In state opinions à-la-mode,

Suppose him gone through all vexations, He hated 'Wharton like a toad;

Patents, instalments, abjurations, Had given the faction many a wound,

First-fruits, and tenths, and chapter-treats; And libell'd all the junto round;

Dues, payments, fees, demands, and cheatsKept company with men of wit,

(The wicked laity's contriving, Who often father'd what he writ.

To hinder clergymen from thriving). His works were hawk'd in every street, Now, all the Doctor's money spent, But seldom rose above a sheet:

His tenants wrong him in his rent; Of late indeed the paper-stamp

The farmers, spitefully combin'd, Did very much his genius cramp;

Force him to take his tithes in kind : And, since he could not spend his fire,

And Parvisol * discounts arrears He now intended to retire.

By bills for taxes and repairs. Said Harley, “I desire to know

Poor Swift, with all his losses vex'd, From his own mouth if this be so ;

Not knowing where to turn him next, Step to the Doctor straight, and say,

Above a thousand pounds in debt, I'd have him dine with me to-day.”

Takes horse, and in a mighty fret, Swift seem'd to wonder what he meant, Rides day and night at such a rate, Nor would believe my lord had sent :

He soon arrives at Harley's gate; So never offer'd once to stir;

But was so dirty, pale, and thin, But coldly said, “ Your servant, Sir!"

Old Read t would hardly let him in. Does he refuse me?" Harley cried.

Said Harley, “Welcome, Reverend Dean! He does, with insolence and pride."

What makes your worship look so lean? Some few days after, Harley spies

Why, sure you won't appear in town The Doctor fasten'd by the eyes

In that old wig and rusty gown? At Charing-cross among the rout,

I doubt your heart is set on pelf, -
Where painted monsters are hung out:

So much that you neglect yourself.
He pulld the string, and stopp'd his coach, What! I suppose, now stocks are high,
Beckoning the Doctor to approach.

You've some good purchase in your eye?
Swift, who could neither fly nor hide, Or is your money out at use?”
Came sneaking to the chariot-side,

“Truce, good my lord, I beg a truce," And offer'd many a lame excuse :

The Doctor in a passion cried, He never meant the least abuse

“ Your raillery is misapplied ; “ My lord-the honor you design'd

Experience I have dearly bought; Extremely proud-but I had din'd.

You know I am not worth a groat; I'm sure I never should neglect

But you resolu'd to have your jest, No man alive has more respect.”

And 'twas a folly to contest. “ Well, I shall think of that no more

Then, since you now have done your worst, If you'll be sure to come at four.”

Pray leave me where you found me first. The Doctor now obeys the summons, Likęs both his company and commons ; Displays his talents, sits till ten;

$ 237. Horace, Book II. Sat. VI. Next day invited, comes again ; Soon grown domestic, seldom fails Either at morning or at meals :

I've often wish'd that I had clear, Came early, and departed late;

For life, six hundred pounds a year, In short the gudgeon took the bait.

A handsome house to lodge a friend, My lord would carry on the jest,

A river at my garden's end, And down to Windsor take his guest.

A terrace-walk, and half a rood Swift much admires the place and air,

Of land set out to plant a wood. And longs to be a canon there;

Well, now I have all this and more, In summer round the park to ride,

I ask not to increase my store; In winter never to reside. A canon! that's a place too mean;

* The Dean's agent, a Frenchman. No, Doctor, you shall be a Dean;

+ The Lord Treasurer's porter.

But here a grievance seems to lie,

| Put my Lord Bolingbroke in in mind All this is mine but till I die;

To get my warrant quickly sign'd: I can't but think 'twould sound more clever, Consider, 'tis my first request." “ To me and to my heirs for ever.”

Be satisfied, I'll do my best. If I ne'er got or lost a groat,

Then presently he falls to tease : By any trick or any fault;

“ You may for certain if you please : And if I pray by reason's rules,

I doubt not, if his lordship knewAnd not like forty other fools :

And, Mr. Dean, one word from you," As thus : « Vouchsafe, () gracious Maker! 'Tis (let me see) three years and more To grant me this and t'other acre:

(October next it will be four) Or, if it be thy will and pleasure,

Since Harley bid me first attend, Direct my plough to find a treasure !"

And chose me for an humble friend; But only what my station fits,

Would take me in his coach to chat, And to be kept in my right wits,

And question me of this and that: [wind?" Preserve, Almighty Providence !

As, " What's o'clock?" and " How's the Just what you gave me, competence :

“ Whose chariot's that we left behind ?" And let me in these shades compose

Or gravely try to read the lines Something in verse as true as prose;

Writ underneath the country signs : Remov'd from all th' ambitious scene,

Or, “ Have you nothing new to-day Nor puft'd by pride, nor sunk by spleen. From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay?" In short, I'm perfectly content,

Such tattle often entertains Let me but live on this side Trent;

My lord and me as far as Staines, Nor cross the Channel twice a year,

As once a week we travel down To spend six months with statesmen here. To Windsor and again to town, I must by all ineans come to town,

Where all that passes inter nos 'Tis for the service of the crown.

Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross. “ Lewis, the Dean will be of use;

Yet sone I know with envy swell, Send for him up, take no excuse.'

Because they see me used so well. The toil, the danger of the seas

“ How think you of our friend the Dean? Great ministers ne'er think of these;

I wonder what some people mean! Or let it cost five hundred pound,

My lord and he are grown so great, No matter where the money's found;

Always together, téle-à-tête : It is but so much more in debt,

Whai! they admire him for his jokes?
And that they ne'er consider'd yet.

See but the fortune of some folks!”
Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown; There flies about a strange report
Let my lord know you're come to town.” Of some express arriv’d) at court.
I hurry me in haste away,

I'm stopp'd by all the fools I meet,
Not thinking it is levee-day;

And catechis'd in ev'ry street. And find his Honor in a pound,

“ You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great; Hemm’d by a triple circle round,

Inforın us, will the emperor treat, Chequer'd with ribands blue and green : Or do the prints and papers lie?" How should I thrust myself between ?

Faith, Sir, you know as much as I. Some wag observes me thus perplex'd,

“Ah, Doctor, how you love to jest ! And, smiling, whispers to the next :

'Tis now no secret."-I protest “ I thought the Dean had been too proud "Tis one to me. " Then tell us, pray, To jostle here among the crowd !".

When are the troops to have their pay?" Another, in a surly fit,

And though I solemnly declare Tells me I have more zeal than wit:

I know no more than my lord-mayor, “ So eager to express your love,

They stand amaz'd, and think me grown You ne'er consider whom you shove,

The closest mortal ever known. But rudely press before a duke.”

Thus, in a sea of folly tost, I own I'm pleased with this rebuke,

My choicest hours of life are lost; And take it kindly meant to show

Yet always wishing to retreat, What I desire the world should know.

O could I see my country-seat! I get a whisper, and withdraw;

There, leaning near a gentle brook, When twenty fools I never saw

Sleep, or peruse some ancient book; Come with petitions fairly penn'd,

And there in sweet oblivion drown Desiring I would stand their friend.

Those cares that haunt the court and town! This humbly offers me his case; That begs my interest for a place :

§ 238. A true and faithful Inventory of the A hundred other men's affairs,

Goods belonging to Dr. Swift, Vicar of LaLike bees, are humming in my ears.

racor, upon lending his house to the Bishop “ To-morrow my appeal comes on :

of Meath till his Palace was rebuilt. Without your help the cause is gone." The duke expects my lord and you,

An oaken broken elbow-chair ; About some great affair, at two:

| A caudle-cup without an ear;

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