Now, methinks, I hear you cry,
Madam, I allow 'tis true,
All these Praises are your Due:
You, like fome acute Philofopher,
Ev'ry Fault have drawn a Gloss over;
Placing in the strongest Light
All Virtues to my Sight.
Though you lead a blameless Life,
Live an humble, prudent Wife;
Anfwer all domeftick Ends,
What is this to us your Friends?
Though your Children by a Nod
Stand in Awe without the Rod;
Though by your obliging Sway
Servants love you, and obey;
Though you treat us with a Smile,
Clear your Looks, and smooth
your Style,
Load our Plates from ev'ry Difh,
This is not the Thing we wish.
Col'nel
may be your Debtor,
We expect Employment better.
You must learn, if you would gain us,
With good Sense to entertain us.
Scholars, when good Sense describing,
Call it tafting and imbibing:
Metaphorick Meat and Drink
Is to understand and think :
We may carve for others thus
And let others carve for us;
To discourse and to attend,
Is, to help yourfelf and Friend.
Converfation is but carving;
Carve for all, yourself is starving;
Give no more to ev'ry Guest,
Than he's able to digeft;
Give him always of the Prime;
And but little at a Time.
Carve to all but just enuff,
Let them neither starve nor stuff:
you may have your Due,
Let your Neighbours carve for you.
This Comparison will hold,
Cou'd it well in Rhime be told,
How Converfing, Lift'ning, Thinking,
Justly may resemble Drinking;
For a Friend a Glafs
What is this but to instil?
To conclude this long Effay,
Pardon, if I disobey;
Still to lash, and lashing smile,
Ill befits a lofty Style.
From the Planet of my Birth
I encounter Vice with Mirth.
Wicked Ministers of State
I can eafier scorn than hate:
And, I find it answers right:
Scorn torments them more than Spight.
All the Vices of a Court
Do but ferve to make me Sport.
Were I in fome foreign Realm,
Which all Vices overwhelm;
When my Muse officious ventures
On the Nations Representers;
Teaching by what golden Rules,
Into Knaves they turn their Fools;
How the Helm is rul'd by Walpole,
At whose Oars, like Slaves, they all pull;
Let the Veffel fplit on Shelves,
With the Freight enrich themselves :
Safe within my little Wherry,
All their Madness makes me merry;
Like the Watermen of Thames,
I row by, and call them Names.
Like the ever-laughing Sage,
In a Jeft I spend my Rage.
(Though it must be understood,
I would hang them if I cou'd)
If I can but fill my Nitch,
I attempt no higher Pitch:
Leave to* D'Anvers and his Mate,
Maxims wife to rule the State.
Pult'ney deep, accomplish'd St. Johns,
Scourge the Villains with a Vengeance,
Let me, though the Smell be noyfom,
Strip their Bums; let Caleb hoise 'em ;
Then apply Alecto's Whip,
'Till they wriggle, howl, and skip.
Duce is in you, Mr. Dean,
What can all this Paffion mean?
Mention Courts, you'll ne'er be quiet,
On Corruptions running Riot.
*Caleb D'Anvers, the famous Writer of the Paper called the Craftsman: These Papers are supposed to be written by the Lord Bolingbroke
afterwards created Earl of Bath
End, as it befits your Station,
Come to Ufe and Application
Nor, with Senates keep a Fufs.
I fubmit, and answer thus:
If the Machinations brewing
To compleat the publick Ruin,
Never once could have the Pow'r
To affect me half an Hour;
(Sooner would I write in Bufkins,
Mournful Elegies on * Bluskins)
If I laugh at Whig and Tory,
I conclude à fortiori,
All your Eloquence will scarce
Drive me from my fav'rite Farce.
This I muft infift on. For, as
It is well obferv'd by + Horace,
Ridicule has greater Pow'r
To reform the World, than fow'r.
Horfes thus, let Jockies judge else,
Switches better guide than Cudgels:
Baftings heavy, dry, obtuse,
Only Dulness can produce;
While a little gentle Jerking
Sets the Spirits all a working.
* A famous Thief, who was hung in Chains fome
Years ago.
+ Ridiculum acri
Fortius & melius, &c.
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