Sidebilder
PDF
ePub

I own, his conscience always free,

(Provided he has got his fee)
Secure of constant peace within,

He knows no guilt, who knows no sin.
Yet well they merit to be pitied,
By clients always overwitted.
And though the Gospel seems to say,
What heavy burdens lawyers lay
Upon the shoulders of their neighbour,
Nor lend a finger to their labour,
Always for saving their own bacon;
No doubt, the text is here mistaken:
The copy's false, the sense is rack'd:
To prove it, I appeal to fact;
And thus by demonstration show
What burdens lawyers undergo.

With early clients at his door,
Though he was drunk the night before,
And cropsick with unclubb'd-for wine,
The wretch must be at court by nine;
Half sunk beneath his briefs and bag,
As ridden by a midnight hag:
Then, from the bar, harangues the bench,
In English vile, and viler French,
And Latin, vilest of the three;
And all for poor ten moidores fee!
Of paper how is he profuse,
With periods long, in terms abstruse ?
What pains he takes to be prolix!
A thousand lines to stand for six!
Of common sense without a word in!
And is not this a grievous burden ?

The lawyer is a common drudge, To fight our cause before the judge:

And, what is yet a greater curse,
Condemn'd to bear his client's purse ;
While he, at ease, secure and light,
Walks boldly home at dead of night;
When term is ended, leaves the town,
Trots to his country mansion down;
And, disencumber'd of his load,
No danger dreads upon the road;
Despises rapparees, and rides

Safe through the Newry mountains' sides.
Lindsay, 'tis you have set me on,
To state this question pro and con.
My satire may offend, 'tis true;
However, it concerns not you.
I own, there may, in every clan,
Perhaps, be found one honest man;
Yet link them close; in this they jump,
To be but rascals in the lump.

Imagine Lindsay at the bar,

He's much the same his brethren are ;
Well taught by practice to imbibe
The fundamentals of his tribe :
And, in his client's just defence,
Must deviate oft from common sense;
And make his ignorance discerned,

Το

get the name of council learned (As lucus comes a non lucendo,) And wisely do as other men do: But shift him to a better scene, Among his crew of rogues in grain; Surrounded with companions fit, To taste his humour, sense, and wit;

[blocks in formation]

"Tis hard, where dulness overrules,
To keep good sense in crowds of fools.
And we admire the man, who saves
His honesty in crowds of knaves;
Nor yields up virtue, at discretion,
To villains of his own profession.
Lindsay, you know what pains you take
In both, yet hardly save your stake;
And will you venture both anew,
To sit among that venal crew,
That pack of mimic legislators,
Abandon'd, stupid, slavish praters!
For, as the rabble daub and rifle
The fool who scrambles for a trifle;
Who for his pains is cuff'd and kick'd,
Drawn through the dirt, his pockets pick'd;
You must expect the like disgrace,
Scrambling with rogues to get a place;
Must lose the honour you have gain'd,
Your numerous virtues foully stain'd;
Disclaim for ever all pretence

To common honesty and sense;
And join in friendship with a strict tyę,
To M-1, C-y, and Dick Tighe

A DIALOGUE, BETWEEN AN EMINENT LAWYER,* AND DR. JONATHAN SWIFT, D. S. P. D. IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, BOOK II. SAT. I.

"Sunt quibus in Satirâ," &c.

WRITTEN BY MR. LINDSAY, IN 1729.

DR. SWIFT.

SINCE there are persons who complain
There's too much satire in my vein;
That I am often found exceeding
'The rules of raillery and breeding;
With too much freedom treat my betters,
Not sparing even men of letters:
You, who are skill'd in lawyers' lore,
What's your advice? Shall I give o'er?
Nor ever fools or knaves expose
Either in verse or humorous prose;
And to avoid all future ill,

In my scrutoire lock up my quill ?

LAWYER.

Since you are pleas'd to condescend

To ask the judgment of a friend,
Your case consider'd, I must think
You should withdraw from pen and ink,
Forbear your poetry and jokes,
And live like other Christian folks;
Or, if the Muses must inspire

Your fancy with their pleasing fire,

Mr. Lindsay. F.

Take subjects safer for your wit
Than those on which you lately writ.
Commend the times, your thoughts correct,
And follow the prevailing sect;
Assert that Hyde, in writing story,
Shows all the malice of a tory;
While Burnet, in his deathless page,
Discovers freedom without rage.
To Woolston recommend our youth,
For learning, probity, and truth;
That noble genius, who unbinds
The chains which fetter freeborn minds
Redeems us from the slavish fears
Which lasted near two thousand years;
He can alone the priesthood humble,
Make gilded spires and altars tumble,

DR. SWIFT.

Must I commend against my conscience Such stupid blasphemy and nonsense? To such a subject tune my lyre, And sing like one of Milton's choir, Where devils to a vale retreat, And call the laws of Wisdom Fate,

Lament upon their hapless fall,

That Force free Virtue should inthrall ?

Or shall the charms of Wealth and Power Make me pollute the Muses' bower?

LAWYER.

As from the tripod of Apollo, Hear from my desk the words that follow :

« ForrigeFortsett »