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

Having mention'd the Lofs 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 impertinent to put you in Mind that you have another Thing ftill to lofe, and that is your Life. For, alas! Tam, what is Life worth, when we have loft the only Thing that maketh the Trifle dear to us? As for me, confound my Glandula Pintalis, if I am not of Will Effence's Opinion, the greatest Genius that Covent-Garden ever produc'd for exquifite Dreffing, 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 lofe that as any other Part about him; that the chief End of Man was to dress well, and Death itfelf was not fo formidable as a Difabille. But whether does this Subjest hurry me? Or how came that fowr Monofyllable Death in our Pens Way? Faith, Tam, I dare trust my Thoughts no longer with fo melancholy a Theme. So hoping you'll be so kind to your felf, as to confider more of this Matter, I am

Votre tres humble Serviture.

The Shoulder-knot Cabal meets to Morrow Night near St. James's, to do a fingular Act of Juftice, and to think of Ways and Means how to restore thofe long-neglected Ornaments. Your Company is expected there,

To a young Lawyer that dabbled

SIR,

Y

in Poetry.

OUR Friends in the Country, understand ing, to their Grief, that you are infected with Verfe-making, by the fame Token that the Spots of Parnaffus have broke out upon you in feveral Love-Sonnets, and a Pindarick Ode upon the Peace, they have defir'd me, whom they knew to labour under the fame Diftemper formerly, to attempt your Cure, with the fame Pro fpect, I fuppofe, as the People of Spain and Italy employ the Priests to exercife the Devil, because they are beft acquainted with him. Take it therefore for an undoubted Truth, that Law and Poetry are as incompatible as War and Plenty, and that the Lawyer and Poet can no more inhabit in the fame Perfon, than a Beau and a Chimney-fweeper. The Law propofeth Intereft for its End, and that Confideration makes its Thiftles palatable; but you'll find yourfelf damnably mistaken, if you think to advance yourself by the Mufes. After you have spent your whole Age in their Service, you must not expect to have your Arrears paid fo much as in MaltTickets or Exchequer-Notes. They'll put yon off to one Mrs. Tattle, alias Fame, the veryeft Coquet that ever was; and that prating Goffip will fham with an Immortality-Ticket, forfooth, which is not to become due to you 'till you are laid afleep in a Church-yard; and neither you nor your Heirs will be a Farthing the better for it. What is worse, the nine Sifters above-mention'd will not only difappoint your Expectations as to a Reward, but will engrofs all your Favours, and fuffer no Rivals to interfere

you

with them. Like the East-India Women, they'll expect you should prove conftant, and bestow no Marks of Benevolence elsewhere, otherwife conclude to be poifon'd by them, and made uncapable of any Thing elfe; and nothing you know is fo furious as the Revenge of a difcarded Mistress. If you design to touch at the most advantageous Port in the Land of Poetry, call'd the Theatre, confider how visible the Dangers, and how unfuitable the Returns are. To please the Ladies, you must take Care to lard the Dialogue with Store of lufcious Stuff, which the Righteous call Bawdy: To please our new > Refor mers, you must have none, otherwife gruff Jeremy will be upon your Bones. In fhort, a Poet has as hard a Tafk on't to manage, as a Paffive 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 fucceeding Pleafure can make you Amends for fo much Pain and Anguish? 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 fo 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 Comfort, that the Shadow of the Theatre is ftarving, and the Airof it as naturally produces Poverty, as that of the Hundreds in Effex begets Agues. There was a WoollenDraper in the Strand, that unhappily dream'd but of a Candle-fuuffer of the Houfe, who is at least four Removes from a Poet, and the poor Fellow broke within a Week after."

So then, if you have the Fear of Intereft before your Eyes, ftick clofe to the Law, and let Poetry go to the Devil. Ovid will be an everlafting Tefti

mony

mony of this Truth to all Ages of the World.

His Father, like a wife old Gentleman, defign'd him for the Bar; but the giddy Fop flung up that Profeflion, and fet up for a Wit; but obferve, I beseech you, what he got by the Exchange. By fome of his foolish Verses he drew the Emperor's Displeasure upon himself, who fent him a grazing, to teach him more Manners, and fo he liv'd a miferable Fugitive, in partibus infidelium, where he had Leifure enough to curfe the verifying Planet which betray'd him to thefe Extremities. One or two perhaps in the Compafs of fix thousand Year have made their Fortunes by it; but is this any Encouragement for you to betake your felf to Apollo's high Road? What Man of ordinary Sense would hazard his All in a Lottery, in Hopes of meeting a benefited Ticket, where he has Forty thousand to One Odds against him. Befides, Bufinefs and Poetry agree as ill together as Faith and Reafon, which two latter, as has been jus dicioufly obferv'd by the fam'd Tub-drubber of Covent Garden, can never be brought to fet their Horfes together. Those poor Rogues, that do Apollo's Drudgery, like the Servants that belong to Dr. Ch. -n's Land-Office, must e'en take their Labour for their Pains; for Apollo and the Doctor pay no Wages; and they agree in this too, that Paper paffes with both for ready Money.

On the other Hand, the Law has all the Baits you can think of to take you: Crowds of Clients to dance Attendance at your Chamber every Morning Wealth perpetually flowing in upon you, and all this attain'd with a few Qualifications; nothing but a ftrong pair of Bellows, call'd Lungs, and a Forehead of the Corinthian Order, are requir'd. So that if you abandon fo rich a Soil, to ftarve upon a barren Common, the very Stones in WestministerHall, like the Blood of the Recorder's Horfes, will rife up in Judgment against you. After all, if you are not Mafter of Philofophy enough to fet your

felf

felf, at Liberty, and cannot entirely shake off the rhiming Disease, let me advife you, as a Friend, to trefpafs that Way in private; let not your Mistress, nor fo much as your Bottle-Companion, know any Thing of the Matter; but when the Writing-Fit is upon you, do it with as much prudent Circumspection as difcreet Thieves when they are going to commit Burglary. Otherwife you muft lie under the Scandal of being thought a difaffected Man to Cook and Littleton; and if that should arrive to my Lord Chief Juftice's Ears, good Night to your Practice. This is all that I have at prefent to fay upon this Head, who am

Your most humble, &c.

A comical Letter out of the famous Monfieur de Colletier, to Mademoifelle de Choux.

Madam,

D

ID you ever fee an Almanack in your Life? You'll fay this is an odd Queftion. I'll give you the Reason then why I afk'd it: There's an odd Sort of a Fellow ufually pictur'd in it, Madam,. with the Devil knows how many Darts in his Body. And what of him ? Cry you. Why, Madam, he's only a Type of your humble Servant; for that Son of a Whore Cupid has fo pink'd me all over with his confounded Arrows, that, by my Troth, I look like, let me think, like what, like your Ladyship's Pin-cushion. But this is not all: Your Eyes had like to have