Docte febricitans,

Somniata & inaudita commenta vigilans

Edidit.

Scepticum pie egit;

Credulitate puer, audacia juvenes,
Deliriis fenex.

Grubftreet Journal, No 67.

A MOTTO on a great LAWYER's Coach.

Deus vidit lucem esse bonam.

To the faid LAWYER.

RRA now Countryman ABEL Ishwear, O hone, O honem,

AR

What the devil doft thou mean by LUCEM BONAM?
Now the de'll take me, and all the fhaint PATRICKS and
ST. DENNIS's,

If thou haft not ftollen this Motto of thine, out of God's book of GENESIS.

And now, what have you to do with God's book, that follow the Law?

Could you not have pick'd out of Cook for thy purpose an old fee faw?

But thou must transfer a piece of the bible: now I shwear by the virgin MARY,

Tish a great shin against the church, to turn that book into TIPPERARY.

And now, dear joy, I will be about giving fhome advice upon thy coach-door,

Let thy motto be just like thy felf, that is, after as it was

before.

On the curious SERMON at the Oratory, concerning the unknown God, on SUNDAY. MARCH 24.

WE

HEN from gilt tub, fublime and masquerade,
TULLY reviv'd the unknown god display'd;
Clare-butchers, mix'd with faints of drury-lane,
Aftonish'd heard the learned, lofty strain :

Which, like the theme, th' athenian god unknown
Still left, but manifested plain his own.

Grubftreet Journal, Ño 69.

T

HE fcandalous author of the DUNCIAD, an inveterate enemy of our whole fociety, has fet this eminent member in another light, in the folling verses, which will no doubt raise a juft indignation in the reader.

OUT, where each fcience lifts its modern type,

B Hiftory her pot, divinity his pipe,

While proud philofophy repines to fhow,
Difhoneft fight! his breeches rent below:
Imbrown'd with native bronze, lo HENLEY ftands,
Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands.
How fluent nonfenfe trickles from his tongue!
How fweet the periods, neither faid, nor fung!
Still break the benches, HENLEY! with thy ftrain,
While K**, B**, W**, preach in vain.
O great restorer of the good old ftage,
Preacher at once, and zany of thy age!
O worthy thou of EGYPT's wife abodes,
A decent priest, where monkies were the gods!
But fate with butchers plac'd thy priestly stall,
Meek modern faith to murder, hack, and mawl;
And bade thee live to crown BRITANNIA's praise,
In TOLAND'S TINDAL's, and in WOOLSTON's days.

T

FLEET-PRISON, APRIL 12, 1731.

To J- - - G-- - Ésq; W --- of the Fl--t

W

THILE malice and injuftice reign
Throughout thy gloomy, dear domain,

How idly vain is your pretence

To clemency and innocence!

In vain you wash your guilty hands,
If varlets act by your commands;
Nor can you th' injur'd pris'ners blame,
That daily ftigmatize your name.
Praife or contempt to him belongs,
Whence fpring our benefits, or wrongs.
None blames the weapon, but the man,
Who through the guts his poniard ran.
A fervant's but the instrument,
To execute his lord's intent,

Regard the fable, here in view: 'Tis pat, as if 'twere made for you.

A country fquire (as Esor has it),
Put his loft maftiff in the gazette;
Defcrib'd his bulk, his fpots around;
And by the marks the dog was found.

Soon as his mafter faw his face,
He calmly argu'd thus the cafe.
I, that have been the beft of friends!
And is it thus I'm made amends?
Ungrateful dog! to run away
From me, who fed you ev'ry day.
Howcould you ufe me like your foe?
Did I e're give you once a blow?

164

With your own hands, quoth rover, no.
H 2

}

But

But these poor bones can witness be,
I've had ten thousand giv'n me
By that vile flave your deputy:
Which if, fir, by your order done,
Qr approbation, is all one.

HEN S

WH

An EPIGRAM.

}

J. W. BAVIUS.

at first to the mitire was rais'd;

How the prince and the prelate by clergy were

prais'd!

We have now got a bishop of primitive fort,
Who will ne'er undertake any job of a court.

Had all prelates fuch learning, fuch fenfe, and fuch fame,
Such a fortune, and virtue, they would ftill be the fame,
---So they are, like all priests, cries cenforious Free-thinker,
Whether fons of a dean, or the fons of a tinker :
However they affect in learned difputation

Oft to wrangle about the right road to salvation ;
They are ASGYLITES all, and depend on translation.

}

Grubftreet Journal, No 70.
To F. OSBORNE, Efq;

CE

EASE your politicks FRANK! or faith I affure you,
For writing fuch stuff no man will endure you :

Tho' if ever your writings fome merit did claim,
You are fure to preserve it by writing the fame;
For the World must allow, you keep close to your text,
Since what's in one journal, is ftill in the next.

There's no doubt, honeft FRANK, you've ideas good ftore
Prithee don't fpin out one, to the length of a score.

Tho'

Tho' fo cautiously frugal you are of the pence,
For the future, I beg, be more liberal of fense:
Left GRUBEANS fhould fay, that for Patron, and Friend,
Your genius and bounty, alike you extend;

And write like a niggard juft as much, as you spend.

}

Defign'd of the Monument of Sir IS AAC

A

NEWTON.

PPROACH, ye wife of foul, with awe divine,

"Tis NEWTON's name that confecrates this fhrine:

That fun of knowledge, whose meridian ray
Kindled the gloom of nature into day!

That foul of fcience! that unbounded mind!
That genius which exalted human kind!
Confeft fupream of men! his country's pride!
And half esteem'd an Angel ---- 'till he died.
Who in the eye of heaven, like ENOCH flood,
And, thro' the paths of knowledge, walk'd with GOD;
Who made his fame a fea without a fhore,

And but forfook one world to know the laws of more.

W. E.

On receiving a Prefent of an Orange from Mrs. G. L. now Countess of ABOYNE.

OW, PRIAM's fon, thou may'st be mute;

Now

For I can blythly boaft with thee:

Thou to the fairest gave the fruit;

The fairest gave the fruit to me.

Upon this our author, acting the part of a poetical parish clerk, as well as of a regifter, (two offices frequently united in one perfon) has written the following admirable paraphrafe in the STERNHOLDIAN strain.