From "Two Broadsides against Tobacco," 1672.

THIS Indian weed, now withered quite,
Though green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay;

All flesh is hay:

Thus think and smoke tobacco.

The pipe so lily-like and weak,

Does thus thy mortal state bespeak:

Thou art e'en such,

Gone with a touch.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Then thou behold'st the vanity

Of worldly stuff,

Gone with a puff.

Thus think, and smoke tobaceo.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defiled with sin;
For then the fire

It does require.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And see'st the ashes cast away:

Then to thyself thou mayest say,
That to the dust

Return thou must.

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The foregoing is a slightly-altered version of a song which was first printed in 1672, in "Two Broadsides against Tobacco." The author is unknown. The following is the original copy:

THE Indian weed withered quite,

Green at noon, cut down at night,
Shows thy decay,-

All flesh is hay:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily-white,
Shows thee to be a mortal wight,
And even such,

Gone with a touch:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Think thou behold'st the vanity

Of worldly stuff,

Gone with a puff:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defiled with sin;
And then the fire

It doth require :

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind,

May serve to put thee still in mind,
That unto dust,

Return thou must,

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

THE VICAR OF BRAY.

IN good King Charles's golden days,
When loyalty no harm meant,
A zealous high churchman I was,
And so I got preferment:

To teach my flock I never miss'd,
Kings are by GoD appointed,
And damn'd are those that do resist,
Or touch the Lord's anointed.

And this is law I will maintain
Until my dying day, sir,
That whatsoever king shall reign,
I'll be the Vicar of Bray, sir.

When royal James obtain'd the crown,
And Popery came in fashion,

The penal laws I hooted down,

And read the Declaration:

The Church of Rome I found would fit

Full well my constitution;

And had become a Jesuit

But for the Revolution.

And this is law, &c.

When William was our king declared,
To ease the nation's grievance,
With this new wind about I steer'd,
And swore to him allegiance;

Old principles I did revoke,

Set conscience at a distance;

Passive obedience was a joke,
A jest was non-resistance.
And this is law, &c.

When gracious Anne became our Queen,
The Church of England's glory,
Another face of things was seen,
And I became a tory:

Occasional conformists base,

I damn'd their moderation,

Although the Church in danger was

By such prevarication.

And this is law, &c.

99 66

When George in pudding-time came o'er,
And moderate men look'd big, sir,

I turn'd a cat-in-pan once more,
And so became a whig, sir;
And thus preferment I procured,

From our new faith's defender;
And almost every day abjured
The Pope and the Pretender.
And this is law, &c.

Th' illustrious House of Hanover,
And Protestant Succession;
To these I do allegiance swear—
While they can keep possession :

For in my faith and loyalty;

I never more will falter,

And George my lawful king shall be—

Until the times do alter.

And this is law, &c.

"The Vicar of Bray, in Berkshire," says D'Israeli, in his "Curiosities of Literature," was a Papist, under the reign of Henry the Eighth, and a Protestant under Edward the Sixth. He was a Papist again under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When this scandal to the gown was reproached for his versatility of religious creeds, and taxed for being a turn-coat, and an inconstant changeling, as Fuller expresses it, he replied: Not so, neither; for if I changed my religion, I am sure I kept true to my principle, which is to live and die the Vicar of Bray." "Pendleton, the celebrated Vicar of Bray," says another statement, which has recently gone the round of the newspapers, "subse. quently became rector of St. Stephen's, Walbrook. It is related that in the reign of Edward VI., Lawrence Sanders, the martyr, an honest but mild and timorous man, stated to Pendleton his fears that he had not strength of mind to endure the persecution of the times, and was answered by Pendleton that "he would see every drop of his fat and the last morsel of his flesh consumed to ashes, ere he would swerve from the faith then established." He, however, changed with the times, saved his fat and his flesh, and became rector of St. Stephen's, whilst the mild and diffident Sanders was burnt in Smithfield."

In a note in Nichols' Select Poems, 1782, vol. viii., p. 234, it is stated that The song of the Vicar of Bray "is said to have been written by an officer in Colonel Fuller's regiment, in the reign of King George the First. It is founded on an historical fact; and though it reflects no great honour on the hero of the poem, is humourously expressive of the complexion of the times, in the successive reigns from Charles the Second to George the First."

Extract of a Letter from Mr. Brome, to Mr. Rawlins, dated June 14, 1735:I have had a long chase after the Vicar of Bray on whom the proverb. Mr. Hearne though born in that neighbourhood, and should have mentioned it, (Leland, Itinerary, vol. v. p. 114), knew not who he was, but in his last letter desired me if I found him out to let him know it. Dr. Fuller in his Worthies, and Mr. Ray from him, takes no notice of him in his Proverbs. I suppose neither knew his name. But I am informed it is SIMON ALLEYN or ALLEN, who was Vicar of Bray about 1540, and died 1588, so was Vicar of Bray near 50 years. You now partake of the sport that cost me some pains to take Letters from the Bodleian, vol. ii. part 1, P. 100.

A MAN TO MY MIND.

JOHN CUNNINGHAM, born A.D. 1728.

SINCE wedlock 's in vogue, and stale virgins despis'd,
To all bachelors, greeting, these lines are premis'd.
I'm a maid that would marry, but where shall I find
(I wish not for fortune) a man to my mind?

Not the fair-weather fop, fond of fashion and lace;
Not the squire, that can wake to no joys but the chase;
Not the free-thinking rake, whom no morals can bind;
Neither this-that- -nor t' other's the man to my mind.

Not the ruby-fac'd sot, that topes world without end;
Not the drone, who can't relish his bottle and friend;
Not the fool that 's too fond, nor the churl that 's unkind;
Neither this-that-nor t' other's the man to my mind.

Not the wretch with full bags, without breeding or merit;
Not the flash, that's all fury without any spirit;
Not the fine master fribble, the scorn of mankind;
Neither this-that—nor t' other's the man to my mind.

But the youth in whom merit and sense may conspire,
Whom the brave must esteem, and the fair should admire;
In whose heart love and truth are with honour combin’d;
This-this-and no other 's the man to my mind.

This Author's Poems were printed in 1771, and dedicated to David Garrick. He was the Manager of the Newcastle Theatre, and an actor of some repute. The exact year of his death is unknown, but it was prior to 1780.

FROM THE COURT TO THE COTTAGE.

HARRY CAREY, died 1748.

FROM the court to the cottage convey me away,
For I'm weary of grandeur, and what they call gay;
When pride without measure,

And pomp without pleasure,

Make life in a circle of hurry decay.