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Or whiten'd wall provoke the skewer to write;
F. Alas, young man, your days can ne'er be .
In flower of age you perish for a song !
P. What? arm’d for virtue when I point the pen,
There my retreat the best companions grace,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul :
Envy must own I live among the great,
F. Your plea is good; but still I say, beware! Laws are explain'd by men-so have a care. It stands on record, that in Richard's times A man was hang'd for very honest rhymes. Consult the statute ; quart. I think it is, Edwardi sext. or prim. et quint. Eliz. See libels, satires-here you have it—read.
P. Libels and satires ! lawless things indeed ! But grave epistles, bringing vice to light, Such as a king might read, a bishop write, Such as Sir Robert 3 would approve-F. Indeed ! The case is alter’d-you may then proceed : In such a cause the plaintiff will be hiss'd, My lords the judges laugh, and you're dismiss’d.
· The Earl of Peterborough. 3 Walpole. .
THE SECOND SATIRE OF THE SECOND BOOK
TO MR. BETHEL.1
What, and how great, the virtue and the art
Hear Bethel's sermon, one not vers’d in schools, But strong in sense, and wise without the rules.
“ Go work, hunt, exercise ! (he thus began) Then scorn a homely dinner if you can. Your wine lock'd up, your butler strollid abroad, Or fish denied (the river yet unthaw'd); If then plain bread and milk will do the feat, The pleasure lies in you, and not the meat.”
Preach as I please, I doubt our curious men Will choose a pheasant still before a hen; Yet hens of Guinea full as good I hold, Except you eat the feathers green and gold.
i See note 3 vol. ii. p. 75.
Of carps and mullets why prefer the great,
? A glutton, who ran through a fortune of fifteen hundred a year, by indulging himself in good eating.
Aridien or his wife (no matter which, For him you'll call a dog, and her a bitch) Sell their presented partridges and fruits, And humbly live on rabbits and on roots : One half-pint bottle serves them both to dine, And is at once their vinegar and wine : But on some lucky day (as when they found A lost bank-bill, or heard their son was drown'd) At such a feast, old vinegar to spare, Is what two souls so generous cannot bear : Oil, though it stink, they drop by drop impart, But souse the cabbage with a bounteous heart.
He knows to live who keeps the middle state, And neither leans on this side nor on that; Nor stops for one bad cork his butler's pay, Swears, like Albutius, a good cook away; Nor lets, like Nævius, every error pass, The musty wine, foul cloth, or greasy glass.
Now hear what blessings temperance can bring: (Thus said our friend, and what he said I sing) First health: the stomach (cramm'd from every dish, A tomb of boild and roast, and flesh and fish, Where bile, and wind, and phlegm, and acid, jar, And all the man is one intestine war) Remembers oft the schoolboy's simple fare, The temperate sleeps, and spirits light as air.
How pale each worshipful and reverend guest Rise from a clergy or a city feast ! What life in all that ample body say? What heavenly particle inspires the clay?