had fled,

Few are the freeholds in our ancient town;
A copy-right from heir to heir came down,
From whence some heat arose, when there
was doubt

In point of heirship; but the fire went out,
Till our attorney had the art to raise
The dying spark, and blow it to a blaze:
For this he now began his friends to treat;
His way to starve them was to make them eat,
And drink oblivious draughts-to his ap-
plause

It must be said, he never starved a cause; He'd roast and boil'd upon his board; the boast

Of half his victims was his boil'd and roast;
And these at every hour :-he seldom took
Aside his client, till he'd praised his cook;
Nor to an office led him, there in pain
To give his story and go out again;
But first, the brandy and the chine were seen,
And then the business came by starts be-
tween.

'Well, if 'tis so, the house to you belongs; But have you money to redress these wrongs Nay, look not sad, my friend; if you're correct,

You'll find the friendship that you'd not expect.'

If right the man, the house was Swallow's

own;

If wrong, his kindness and good-will were shown:

'Rogue!' 'Villain !' 'Scoundrel!' cried the losers all;

He let them cry, for what would that recall?
At length he left us, took a village seat,
And like a vulture look'd abroad for meat;
The Borough-booty, give it all its praise,
Had only served the appetite to raise ;
But if from simple heirs he drew their land,
He might a noble feast at will command;
Still he proceeded by his former rules,

Were young, were minors, of their sires in dread;

Or those whom widow'd mothers kept in bounds,

And check'd their generous rage for steeds and hounds;

Or such as travell'd 'cross the land to view
A Christian's conflict with a boxing Jew:
Some too had run upon Newmarket heath
With so much speed that they were out of
breath;

Others had tasted claret, till they now
To humbler port would turn, and knew not
how.

All these for favours would to Swallow run, Who never sought their thanks for all he'd done;

He kindly took them by the hand, then bow'd
Politely low, and thus his love avow'd-
(For he'd a way that many judged polite,
A cunning dog-he'd fawn before he'd bite)—
Observe, my friends, the frailty of our

race

When age unmans us-let me state a case: There's our friend Rupert-we shall soon redress

His present evil-drink to our success-
I flatter not; but did you ever see
Limbs better turn'd? a prettier boy than he ?
His senses all acute, his passions such
As nature gave-she never does too much;
His the bold wish the cup of joy to drain,
And strength to bear it without qualm or pain.

'Now view his father as he dozing lies,
Whose senses wake not when he opes his eyes;
Who slips and shuffles when he means to walk,
And lisps and gabbles if he tries to talk ;
Feeling he's none, he could as soon destroy
The earth itself, as aught it holds enjoy;
A nurse attends him to lay straight his limbs,
Present his gruel, and respect his whims :
Now shall this dotard from our hero hold
His lands and lordships? Shall he hide his
gold?

That which he cannot use, and dare not show,

fools;

Flagons and haunches on his board were placed,

Yet, 'twould be murder should we snap the

locks,

waste:

For ever sitting on the river's brink,
And ever thirsty, shall he fear to drink?
The means are simple, let him only wish,
Then say he's willing, and I'll fill his dish.'
They all applauded, and not least the boy,
Who now replied, 'It fill'd his heart with
joy

To find he needed not deliv'rance crave
Of death, or wish the justice in the grave;
Who, while he spent, would every art retain
Of luring home the scatter'd gold again;
Just as a fountain gaily spirts and plays
With what returns in still and secret ways.'
Short was the dream of bliss; he quickly
found,

His father's acres all were Swallow's ground.
Yet to those arts would other heroes lend
A willing ear, and Swallow was their friend;
Ever successful, some began to think
That Satan help'd him to his pen and ink;
And shrewd suspicions ran about the place,
There was a compact '-I must leave the

case.

But of the parties, had the fiend been one, The business could not have been speedier done :

Still when a man has angled day and night,
The silliest gudgeons will refuse to bite :
So Swallow tried no more; but if they came
To seek his friendship, that remain'd the

same:

Thus he retired in peace, and some would say

He'd balk'd his partner, and had learn'd to pray.

To this some zealots lent an ear, and sought How Swallow felt, then said 'a change is wrought: '

"Twas true there wanted all the signs of grace, But there were strong professions in their place;

Then too, the less that men from him expect, The more the praise to the converting sect; He had not yet subscribed to all their creed, Nor own'd a call, but he confess'd the need: His acquiescent speech, his gracious look, That pure attention, when the brethren spoke, Was all contrition, he had felt the wound, And with confession would again be sound.

True, Swallow's board had still the sump

tuous treat;

But could they blame? the warmest zealots eat:

He drank-'twas needful his poor nerves to brace;

He swore 'twas habit; he was grieved'twas grace:

What could they do a new-born zeal to nurse? 'His wealth 's undoubted-let him hold our purse;

He'll add his bounty, and the house we'll raise Hard by the church, and gather all her strays;

We'll watch her sinners as they home retire, And pluck the brands from the devouring fire.'

Alas! such speech was but an empty

boast;

And merit sighs to see a fortune made By daring rashness or by dull parade.

But these are trifling evils; there is one Which walks uncheck'd, and triumphs in the

sun:

There was a time, when we beheld the quack, On public stage, the licensed trade attack; He made his labour'd speech with poor parade;

And then a laughing zany lent him aid: Smiling we pass'd him, but we felt the while Pity so much, that soon we ceased to smile; Assured that fluent speech and flow'ry vest Disguised the troubles of a man distress'd. But now our quacks are gamesters, and they play

With craft and skill to ruin and betray; With monstrous promise they delude the mind,

And thrive on all that tortures human-kind.
Void of all honour, avaricious, rash,
The daring tribe compound their boasted
trash-

Tincture or syrup, lotion, drop or pill;
All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill;
And twenty names of cobblers turn'd to
squires,

Aid the bold language of these blushless liars. There are among them those who cannot read,

And yet they'll buy a patent, and succeed;
Will dare to promise dying sufferers aid,
For who, when dead, can threaten or up-
braid?

With cruel avarice still they recommend More draughts, more syrup to the journey's end :

'I feel it not; '-' Then take it every hour: ' 'It makes me worse; Why then it shows

its power:

'I fear to die; '-' Let not your spirits sink, You're always safe, while you believe and drink.'

How strange to add, in this nefarious trade, That men of parts are dupes by dunces made: That creatures, nature meant should clean our streets,

Have purchased lands and mansions, parks

and seats;

Wretches with conscience so obtuse, they leave Their untaught sons their parents to deceive; And when they're laid upon their dying-bed, No thought of murder comes into their head;

Nor one revengeful ghost to them appears, To fill the soul with penitential fears.

Yet not the whole of this imposing train Their gardens, seats, and carriages obtain ; Chiefly, indeed, they to the robbers fall, Who are most fitted to disgrace them all : But there is hazard-patents must be bought, Venders and puffers for the poison sought; And then in many a paper through the year, Must cures and cases, oaths and proofs appear;

Men

snatch'd from graves, as they were dropping in,

Their lungs cough'd up, their bones pierced through their skin;

Their liver all one scirrhus, and the frame Poison'd with evils which they dare not name; Men who spent all upon physicians' fees, Who never slept, nor had a moment's ease, Are now as roaches sound, and all as brisk as bees.

If the sick gudgeons to the bait attend, And come in shoals, the angler gains his end; But should the advertising cash be spent, Ere yet the town has due attention lent, Then bursts the bubble, and the hungry cheat Pines for the bread he ill deserves to eat; It is a lottery, and he shares perhaps The rich man's feast, or begs the pauper's scraps.

From powerful causes spring th' empiric's

gains,

Man's love of life, his weakness, and his pains; These first induce him the vile trash to try, Then lend his name, that other men may

buy:

This love of life, which in our nature rules, To vile imposture makes us dupes and tools; Then pain compels th' impatient soul to seize On promised hopes of instantaneous ease; And weakness too with every wish complies, Worn out and won by importunities.

Troubled with something in your bile or

blood,

You think your doctor does you little good; And, grown impatient, you require in haste The nervous cordial, nor dislike the taste; It comforts, heals, and strengthens; nay, you think

It makes you better every time you drink; Then lend your name '-you're loth, but yet confess

Its powers are great, and so you acquiesce :