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WHITSHED'S * мотто ON HIS COACH. 1724.

LIBERTAS et natale folum :

Fine words! I wonder where you ftole 'em. Could nothing but thy chief reproach

Serve for a motto on thy coach?

But let me now the words tranflate :

Natale folum, my estate;

My dear eftate, how well I love it!
My tenants, if you doubt, will prove its
They fwear I am so kind and good,
I hug them, till I squeeze their blood..
Libertas bears a large import :

First, how to fwagger in a court;
And, fecondly, to fhew my fury
Against an un-complying jury;
And, thirdly, 'tis a new invention,
To favour Wood, and keep my penfion;
And, fourthly, 'tis to play an odd trick,
Get the great feal, and turn out Broderick;
And, fifthly, (you know whom I mean).
To humble that vexatious Dean;
And, fixthly, for my foul, to barter it
For fifty times its worth to Carteret †.

The chief juftice who profecuted the Drapier. + Lord lieutenant of Ireland.


Now, fince your motto thus you construe, I must confefs you 've spoken once true. Libertas et natalė solum :

You had good reason, when you ftole 'em.

Sent by Dr. DELANY to Dr. SWIFT, In order to be admitted to fpeak to him, when he was DEAF, 1724.

DEAR fir, I think 'tis doubly hard,

Your ears and doors fhould both be barr'd.

Can any thing. be more unkind?

Must I not fee, 'cause you are blind?
Methinks a friend at night should cheer you,
A friend that loves to fee and hear

Why am I robb'd of that delight,
When you can be no lofer by 't?


Nay, when 'tis plain (for what is plainer ?)
That, if you heard, you'd be no gainer?
For fure you are not yet to learn,
That hearing is not your concern.
Then be your doors no longer barr'd:
Your bufinefs, fir, is to be heard.




HE wife pretend to make it clear, 'Tis no great lofs to lose an ear. Why are we then fo fond of two, When by experience one would do?

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'Tis true, fay they, cut off the head, And there's an end; the man is dead; Because, among all human race,

None e'er was known to have a brace:
But confidently they maintain,

That where we find the members twain,、
The lofs of one is no fuch trouble,
Since t'other will in ftrength be double..
The limb furviving, you may swear,
Becomes his brother's lawful heir:
Thus, for a trial, let me beg of
Your reverence but to cut one leg off,.
And you fhall find, by this device
The other will be stronger twice;
For every day you fhall be gaining
New vigour to the leg remaining.
So, when an eye has loft its brother,
You fee the better with the other.
Cut off your hand, and you may do
With t'other hand the work of two:
Because the foul her power contracts,
And on the brother limb re-acts.

But yet the point is not fo clear in
Another cafe, the fenfe of hearing:
For, though the place of either ear
Be diftant, as one head can bear;
Yet Galen moft acutely fhews you,
(Confult his book de partium ufu) ·
That from each ear, as he observes,
There creep two auditory nerves,


Not to be feen without a glass,

Which near the os petrofum pafs;

Thence to the neck; and moving thorow there
One goes to this, and one to t'other ear;
Which made my grand-dame always ftuff her ears,
Both right and left, as fellow-fufferers.
You fee my learning; but, to fhorten it,
When my left ear was deaf a fortnight,
To t'other ear I felt it coming on:
And thus I folve this hard phænomenon.
'Tis true, a glafs will bring fupplies
To weak, or old, or clouded eyes:
Your arms, though both your eyes were loft,
Would guard your nofe against a post:
Without your legs, two legs of wood

Are stronger and almost as good:

And as for hands, there have been thofe
Who, wanting both, have us'd their toes **
But no contrivance yet appears

To furnish artificial ears.


To a Friend who married a Shrew. 1724.

NELL fcolded in fo loud a din,

That Will durft hardly venture in : :

He markt the conjugal difpute;

Nell roar'd inceffant, Dick fat mute;

* There have been inftances of a man's writing with

his foot...


But, when he saw his friend appear,
Cry'd bravely, Patience, good my dear!
At fight of Will, she bawl'd no more,
But hurry'd out, and clapt the door.

Why Dick! the devil's in thy Nell,
(Quoth Will) thy houfe is worse than hell:
Why what a peal the jade has rung!
D-n her, why don't you flit her tongue ?
For nothing elfe will make it cease.

Dear Will, I fuffer this for peace :
I never quarrel with my wife;
I bear it for a quiet life.

Scripture, you know, exhorts us to it;
Bids us to feek peace, and enfue it.

Will went again to vifit Dick;

And entering in the very nick,

He faw virago Nell belabour,

With Dick's own ftatf, his peaceful neighbour:
Poor Will, who needs muft interpofe,

Receiv'd a brace or two of blows.

But now, to make my story short,
Will drew out Dick to take a quart.
Why, Dick, thy wife has devilish whims;
Ods-buds! why don't you break her limbs ?
If he were mine, and had fuch tricks,
I'd teach her how to handle flicks:
Z-ds! I would fhip her to Jamaica,
Or truck the carrion for tobacco:
I'd fend her far enough away-

Dear Will; but what would people say?


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