Not, conjurors like, in fire and brimstone dwell,
And draw each moving argument from hell.
No more our fage interpreters of laws
Wou'd fatten on obfcurities, and flaws,
But rather, nobly careful of their trust,
Strive to wipe off the long-contracted dust,
And be, like HARDWICKE, guardians of the juft.
No more applause would on ambition wait,
And laying wafte the world be counted great,
But one good-natur'd act more praises gain,
Than armies overthrown, and thousands flain;
No more would brutal rage difturb our peace,
But envy, hatred, war, and discord ceafe;
Our own and others' good each hour employ,
And all things fmile with univerfal joy;
Virtue with Happiness, her confort, join'd,
Would regulate and blefs each human mind,
And man be what his Maker firft defign'd.
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1746.
Quale Portentum neque militaris
Daunia in latis alit efculetis,
Nec Juba tellus generat, leonum
Arida nutrix.
UST broke from school, pert, impudent, and raw,
Expert in Latin, more expert in taw,
His Honour posts o'er ITALY and FRANCE,
Measures St. PETER's dome, and learns to dance.
Thence, having quick thro' various countries flown,
Glean'd all their follies and expos'd his own,
He back returns, a thing so strange all o'er,
As never ages past produe'd before:
A monfter of fuch complicated worth,
As no one fingle clime could e'er bring forth ;
Half atheist, papift, gamefter, bubble, rook,
Half fidler, coachman, dancer, groom, and cook.
Next, because bus'nefs is now all the vogue,
And who'd be quite polite must be a rogue,
In parliament he purchases a feat,
To make th' accomplish'd gentleman compleat.
There fafe in felf-fufficient impudence,
Without experience, honesty, or sense,
Unknowing in her int'reft, trade, or laws,
He vainly undertakes his country's cause :
Forth from his lips, prepar'd at all to rail,
Torrents of nonsense burst, like bottled ale,
*Tho' fhallow, muddy; brisk, tho' mighty dull;
Fierce without ftrength; o'erflowing, tho' not full.
Now quite a Frenchman in his garb and air,
His neck yok'd down with bag and solitaire,
The liberties of BRITAIN he supports,
And ftorms at place-men, ministers, and courts ;
Now in cropt greafy hair, and leather breeches,
He loudly bellows out his patriot speeches ;
King, lords, and commons ventures to abuse,
Yet dares to fhew thofe ears, he ought to lofe.
From hence to WHITE's our virtuous CATO flies,
There fits with countenance erect and wife,
́And talks of games of whift, and pig-tail pies;
• Parody on these lines of Sir John Denham,
Tho' deep, yet clear, tho' gentle, yet not dull,
Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.
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