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'Tis well 'tis no worse, I may thank my Sotring for this.

Demi 'it, to drink a whole Pint of Claret at a Sitting! Hell and Furies ! how it increases !

I would not have a Pimple, Tam, for the Indies.

But 'tis gone after all, and I find my Suspicious were in vain.

To come now, Tam, to the field of Battle ; those ill-bred whorson Things call'd Bullets, are no Refpecters of Persons. A Pox on them, they observe no Distinction between a fine Gentleman and a Dra. " gooner. Perhaps it would not grieve a Mair to lose his Life upon a good Occasion ; (I speak this by way of Supposition only) but to survive the untimely Fate of one's belov'd Wig, to fee' one's embroider's Coat mangled and hack'd; is enough to break the Heart of Hercules; if he were alive, and had a true Sense of Things. To disswade you, if ’ris possible, from embarking in this pernicious Affair, let me conjure you as a Friend, to reflect upon Sir John Fope pington's Case. About two::Months ago he put on a Milk-white Suit, designing to thew himself in ic that Evening in the Park; and, to do Sir John Jufticë, he never exerted the Brightness of his Imagi. nation fo much as he did upon the Trimming of it. Coming by Catharine-Street, a sawcy impudent Chimney-Sweeper daub'd his Coat. I wonder, Tam, by theby, that the Parliament never made a five Mile Act to banish such prophane Villains out of all Core porations, as once they did the Dissenting Ministers, But so it happen'd as I tell you, and poor Sir John immediately went Home, and took his Bed upon't. He had all the Agonies of a despairing Sinner. Come; Knight, says I, there's no Harm, I hope ; prithee take Courage, and get up.

Good Heavens! my Coat, cry'd he.

Why there's no Danger, but it will recover, and do Oh, that confounded Chimney-Sweeper! -- Providence sent him to visit you for your sins, Sir Johor

But what Ill have I done to draw fuch.

a Judgment upon me?

The Ways of Heaven, Sir Folin, are dark and mysterious. Jack, I never committed Murder nor Sacrilege in my Life, why then should

So he run on for above fix Hours. All this while we endeavour'd to foften his Calamity to him, by reminding him of the Inconstancy of human Affairs. We refreth'd his Memory with Stories of Kings depos’d, and famous Monarchies fubverted; but 'was all in vain : He could not be perswaded to live, 'till the Scowerer had taken his Oath before a Justice of Peace, that the Coar was not a Farthing the worse. Nay, this was not enough, the Taylor was sent for to confirm the Scowerer's Deposition, and the Woman of the House, who saw him put it on in the Morning, must swear, as the hopes to be sav'd, that is was not in the least injur'd.

If this melancholy Instance, Tam, is not enough to deter you from your wicked Resolution, and you have no Bowels of Compaflion for the Issue of your own Fancy, meaning your Cloachs, pray retire for a Moment or two to your Closet ; lay your Hand upon your Heart, and alk it coolly and foberly, how it would relifh that moft extraordinary Accomplithment, a wooden Leg? Think whar a decent Figure you'll make in a Lady's Chamber with fo fine a Qualification. Good Lard, a wooden Leg! 'Tis almost as charming as the Devil's cloven Foot, A Lover made of Flesh and Blood above, and of Timber below, what an odd Composition is that! The Mino. taur in the Fable, who was half Man and half Beaft, was a Cherubim to him. Or, Tam, if this does not mortify you, pray consider, that there are certain impudent Things in an Army calld Gurns, thac without asking any Questions, will demolish a Man's Nose, or run away with one of his Arnis, or carry off half his Teeth and Under-Jaw ; and


there ties no Action against them for it. Such Blessings 13 these are to be had in Flanders, with due Care


and Application; and, Tam, you may fee several Heroes about the Town, who purchas'd them at no little. Expence of Time and Blood at Steenkirk and Lan den. But, Tam, if you have any Guts in your Brains, you'll never long to make one of the Number.

Having mention'd the Loss of Arms, Teeth, and Legs, without which, Tam, we can neither make our Reverences with a good Air, nor talk agreeably to the Ladies, nor perform our Parts at a Ball; if this won't fright you, 'twould be ims pertinent to put you in Mind that you have another Thing still to lore, and that is your Life. For, alas! Tam, what is Life worth, when we have lost the only Thing that maketh the Trifle dear to us? As for me, confound my Glandula Pintalis, if I am not of Wil Efence's Opinion, the greatest Genius that Covent-Garden ever produc'd for exquisite Dressing, who used to say, For his Part he knew not what a Man's Head was good for, but to hang his Hat or his Periwig on; and that if it were put to his Choice, he would as foon Infe that as any other Part about him ; that the chief End of Man was to dress well, and Death itself was not so formidable as a Disabille. But whether does this Subject hurry me? Or how came that fowr Monofyllable Death in our Pens Way ? Faith, Tam, I dare trust my Thoughts no longer with so melancholy a Thenie. So hoping you'll be so kind to your self, as to confider more of this Matter, I am

Votre tres humble Servitures

The Shoulder-knot Cabal meets to Morrow Night

near St. James's, to do a fingular Act of Justice, and to think of Ways and Means how to restore thofe long.neglected Ornaments. Your Company is expected there.

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To a young Lawyer that dabbled

in Poetry:

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SOUR Friends in the Country, understand

ing, to their Grief, that you are infected Y with Verse-making, by the fame Token

that the Spots of Parnaffus have broke out

upon you in several Love-Sonnets, and a Pindarick Ode upon the Peace, they have desir'd me, whom they knew to labour under the same Distemper i formerly, to attempt your Cure, with the fame Pro fpect, I suppose, as the People of Spain and Italy em. ploy the Priests to exercise the Devil, because they are best acquainted with him. Take it therefore for an undoubted Truth, that Law and Poetry are as in. compatible as War and Plenty, and that the Lawyer and Poet can no more inhabit in the fame Perfon, than a Beau and a Chimney-sweeper. The Law propofech Interest for its End, and that consideration makes its Thistles palatable ; but you'll find yourself dam.nably miftaken, if you think to advance yourself by the Muses. After you have spent. your whole Age in their Service, you must not ex-.1; pect to have your Arrears paid so much as in MaltTickets or Exchequer-Nores. They'll put yon off to one Mrs. Tattle, alias Fame, the veryest Coquet that ever was; and that pracing Goslip will sham you with an Immortality-Ticket, forsooth, which is not to become due to you 'till you are laid asleep in a Church-yard ; and neither you nor your Heirs will Le a Farthing the better for it. What is worse, the nine Sisters above-mention'd will not only disappoint your Expectations as to a Reward, but will engrofs all your Favours, and suffer no Rivals to interfere

with them. Like the East-India Women, they'll expect you should prove constant, and bestow ng Marks of Benevolence elsewhere, otherwise conclude to be poifond by them, and made uncapable of any Thing else ; and nothing you know is so furious as the Revenge of a discarded Mistress. If you design to touch at the most advantageous Port in the Land of Poetry, callid the Theatre, consider how visible. the Dangers, and how unsuitable the Returns are. To please the Ladies, you must take Care to lard the Dialogue with Store of luscious Stuff, which the Righteous call Bawdy : To please our new : Reformers, you must have none; otherwise gruff Jeremy will be upon your Bones. In Thort, a Poet has as hard a Task on’t to manage, as a Paflive Obedience Divine that preaches before the Commons on the 30th of January. Then, to fit with an aking Heart for three long Hours behind the Scenes, within an Inch of Damnation all the while, tho' you should come off never fo victorious, can you imagine the succeeding Pleasure can inake you Amends for so much. Pain and Anguilh ? But you fancy the Indies are lodg’d in. Drury-Lane, and that the Spanish PlateFleet is not to be compar'd to a good Third Day. To undeceive you then, the Theatre is not so overstock'd with ungodly Mammon, as you may believe. Rablais fomewhere faith, that the very Shadow of an. Abbey.Steeple is enough to get a Woman with Child ; and I can tell you, for your Comforr, that the Shadow of the Theatre is starving, and the Airof it as naturally produces Poverty, as that of the Hundreds in Efex begets Agues. There was a WoollenDraper in the Strand, that unhappily dream'd but of a Candle-fouffer of the Houfe, who' is at least four Reinoves from a Poet, and the poor Fellow broke : within a Week after."

So then, if you have the Fear of Interest before your Eyes, stick close to the Law, and let Poetry 89 to the Devil. Ovid will be an everlasting Testi


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