He loaths the fubftance, and he loves the fhow;
You'll ne'er convince a fool, himself is fo:
He hates realities, and hugs the cheat,
And ftill the only pleasure 's the deceit.
So meteors flatter with a dazzling dye,
Which no existence has, but in the eye.
As diftant profpects please us, but when near
We find but defert rocks and fleeting air;
From ftratagem to ftratagem we run,
And he knows moft, who lateft is undone.
Mankind one day ferene and free appear;
The next, they 're cloudy, fullen, and fevere:
New pallions new opinions ftill excite;
And what they like at noon, they leave at night.
They gain with labour what they quit with eafe;
And health, for want of change, becomes disease.
Religion's bright authority they dare,
And yet are flaves to fuperftitious fear.
They counfel others, but themfelves deceive;
And though they 're cozen'd ftill, they ftill believe. 40
So falfe their cenfure, fickle their esteem,
This hour they worship, and the next blafpheme.
Shall I then, who with penetrating fight
Infpect the fprings that guide each appetite;
Who with unfathom'd fearches hourly pierce
The dark receffes of the universe;
Be aw'd, if puny emmets would opprefs;
Or fear their fury, or their name carefs?
If all the fiends that in low darkness reign
Be not the fictions of a fickly brain,
That project, the Difpenfary they call,
Before the moon can blunt her horns, shall fall.
With that, a glance from mild Aurora's eyes Shoots through the crystal kingdoms of the skies. The favage kind in forefts cease to roam,
And fots, o'ercharg'd with nauseous loads, reel home; Drums, trumpets, hautboys, wake the slumbering pair, Whilft bridegroom fighs, and thinks the bride lefs fair;
Light 's chearful fmiles o'er th' azure waste are spread,
And Mifs from inns of court bolts out unpaid;
The Sage, tranfported at th' approaching hour,
Imperiously thrice thunder'd on the floor;
Officious Squirt that moment had access,
His truft was great, his vigilance no lefs.
To him thus Horoscope:
My kind companion in this dire affair,
Which is more light, fince you affume a share;
Fly with what hafte you us'd to do of old,
When clyfter was in danger to be cold;
With expedition on the beadle call,
To fummon all the company to th' hall.
Away the friendly coadjutor flics,
Swift as from phial fteams of harts-horn rife.
The Magus in the interim mumbles o'er
Vile terms of art to fome infernal power,
And draws myt
ysterious circles on the floor,
But from the gloomy vault no glaring fpright
Afcends, to blaft the tender bloom of light.
No myftic founds from hell's detefted womb
In dufky exhalations upwards come.
And now to raise an altar he decrees,
To that devouring harpy called Difcafe:
Then flowers in canisters he haftes to bring,
The wither'd product of a blighted spring;
With cold folanum from the Pontic fhore,
The roots of mandrake and black hellebore;
The griper fenna, and the puker rue,
The fweetener faffafras, are added too;
And on the structure next he heaps a load
Of fulphur, turpentine, and maftic wood;
Gums, feffils too, the pyramids increas'd;
A mummy next, once monarch of the east;
Then from the compter he takes down the file,
And with prefcriptions lights the folemn pile.
Feebly the flames on clumfy wings afpire,
And fmothering fogs of smoke benight the fire.
With forrow he beheld the fad portent,
Then to the hag thefe orifons he fent:
Difeafe! thou ever most-propitious power,
Whofe kind indulgence we difcern each hour!
Thou well canft boaft thy numerous pedigree,
Begot by floth, maintain'd by luxury.
In gilded palaces thy prowefs reigns,
But flies the humble fheds of cottage fwains.
you fuch might and energy belong,
You nip the blooming, and unnerve the ftrong.
Thou that would'ft lay whole states and regions waste,
Sooner than we thy cormorants fhould faft.
The purple conqueror in chains you bind,
And are to us your vassals only kind.
If, in return, all diligence we pay
To fix your empire, and confirm your (way,
Far as the weekly-bills can reach around,
From Kent-street end, to fam'd St. Giles's Pound;
Behold this poor libation with a smile,
And let auspicious light break through the pile.
He fpoke; and on the pyramid he laid
Bay-leaves and vipers-hearts, and thus he said;
As thefe confume in this mysterious fire,
So let the curs'd Difpenfary expire!
And as thofe crackle in the flames, and die,
So let its veffels burft, and glasses fly!
But a finifter cricket straight was heard ; :
The altar fell, the offering difappear'd.
As the fam'd wight the omen did regret,
Squirt brought the news the company was met.
Nigh where Fleet-ditch defcends in fable streams, 125
To wash his footy Naiads in the Thames;
There ftands a structure on a rifing hill,
Where Tyros take their freedom out to kill.
Some pictures in thefe dreadful fhambles tell,
How, by the Delian god, the Python fell;
And how Medea did the philtre brew,
That could in Æfon's veins young force renew;
How mournful Myrrha for her crimes appears,
And heals hyfteric matrons ftill with tears;
How Mentha and Althea, nymphs no more,
Revive in facred plants, and health restore;
How fanguine fwains their amorous hours repent,
When pleasure 's past, and pains are permanent ;
And how frail nymphs oft', by abortion, aim
To lose a substance, to preserve a name.
Soon as each member in his rank was plac'd,
The affembly Diafenna* thus addrefs'd:
My kind confederates, if my poor intent,
As 'tis fincere, had been but prevalent,
We here had met on fome more fafe defign,
And on no other bufinefs but to dine;
The Faculty had ftill maintain'd their sway,
And intereft then had bid us but obey;
This only emulation we had known,
Who beft could fill his purfe, and thin the town.
But now from gathering-clouds deftruction pours,
Which ruins with mad rage our halcyon hours:
Mifts from black jealoufies the tempeft form,
Whilft late divifions reinforce the ftorm.
Know, when thefe feuds, like thofe at law, were past, 155
The winners will be lofers at the laft.
Like heroes in fea-fights we seek renown;
To fire fome hoftile fhip, we burn our own.
Whoe'er throws dust against the wind, defcries
He throws it, in effect, but in his eyes.
That juggler which another's fleight will show,
But teaches how the world his own may know.
Thrice happy were thofe golden days of old,
When dear as burgundy, ptifans were fold;
* Gilftorp, an apothecary.
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