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diff --git a/27776-h/27776-h.htm b/27776-h/27776-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c34fadc --- /dev/null +++ b/27776-h/27776-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2423 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Methodist, by Evan Lloyd</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + .poem1 {margin-left: 10em;} + .poem {margin-left: 5em; line-height: 1.5em; font-size: 150%;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + h5 { text-align: center; font-size: 2em; letter-spacing: 2em; + clear: both; + } + + h6 { text-align: center; font-size: 3em; letter-spacing: 1.5em; + clear: both; + } + + .notes {background-color: #dfdbdb; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 30%; text-align: center;} + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .box { margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + border-style: none; } + + .box1 {margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + border-top: solid; border-bottom: solid; + border-width: thin; } + + .pagenum { visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + a { text-decoration: none; } + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Methodist, by Evan Lloyd</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Methodist</p> +<p> A Poem</p> +<p>Author: Evan Lloyd</p> +<p>Release Date: January 11, 2009 [eBook #27776]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE METHODIST***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Anne Storer,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<p class="notes">Transcriber’s Note: Table of Contents added:<br /><br /> +<a href="#INTRODUCTION"><strong>Introduction</strong></a><br /> +<a href="#Page_1"><strong>The Methodist</strong></a></p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="box"> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Augustan Reprint Society</span></h4> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>EVAN LLOYD</h3> + +<h1>THE METHODIST.</h1> + +<h2>A POEM.</h2> + +<p class="center">(1766)</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="box1"> +<h4><br /><em>Introduction by</em></h4> +<h4><span class="smcap">Raymond Bentman</span></h4> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">PUBLICATION NUMBER 151-152<br /> +WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY<br /> +<span class="smcap">University of California, Los Angeles</span><br /> +1972</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">GENERAL EDITORS</span></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;">William E. Conway, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library<br /> +George Robert Guffey, University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +Maximillian E. Novak, University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +David S. Rodes, University of California, Los Angeles</p> + + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">ADVISORY EDITORS</span></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;">Richard C. Boys, University of Michigan<br /> +James L. Clifford, Columbia University<br /> +Ralph Cohen, University of Virginia<br /> +Vinton A. Dearing, University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +Arthur Friedman, University of Chicago<br /> +Louis A. Landa, Princeton University<br /> +Earl Miner, University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +Samuel H. Monk, University of Minnesota<br /> +Everett T. Moore, University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +Lawrence Clark Powell, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library<br /> +James Sutherland, University College, London<br /> +H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles<br /> +Robert Vosper, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library<br /> +Curt A. Zimansky, State University of Iowa</p> + + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">CORRESPONDING SECRETARY</span></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;">Edna C. Davis, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</p> + + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">EDITORIAL ASSISTANT</span></p> + +<p style="margin-left: 10em;">Jean T. Shebanek, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>Evan Lloyd’s works consist chiefly of four satires written in +1766 and 1767,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> all of which are now little-known. What little notice +he receives today results from his friendship with John Wilkes +and David Garrick and from one satire, <em>The Methodist</em>, which is usually +included in surveys of anti-Methodist literature.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> For the +most part, his obscurity is deserved. In <em>The Methodist</em>, however, +he participates in a short-lived revolt against the tyranny of Augustan +satire and shows considerable evidence of a talent that might have +created a new style for formal verse satire.</p> + +<p>The seventeen-sixties were a difficult period for satire. The +struggle between Crown and Parliament, the new industrial and agricultural +methods, the workers’ demands for higher pay, the new rural +and urban poor, the growth of the Empire, the deteriorating relations +with the American colonies, the increasing influence of the ideas +of the Enlightenment, the popularity of democratic ideas, the Wilkes +controversy, the growth of Methodism, the growth of the novel, the +interest in the gothic and the picturesque and in chinoiserie, sentimentality, +enthusiasm—all these activities made England a highly +volatile country. Some changes were truly dynamic, others just +fads. But to someone living in the period, who dared to look around +him, the complexity of the present and the uncertainty of the future +must have seemed enormous.</p> + +<p>To a satirist, such complexity makes art difficult. Satire usually +deals with every-day realities, to which it applies simple moral +ideals. The Augustan satiric alternative—returning to older beliefs +in religion, government, philosophy, art—and the stylistic expression +of such beliefs—formal verse satire and epistle, mock-poem, +heroic or Hudibrastic couplet, diction of polite conversation, ironic +metaphysical conceits, fantastic fictional situations—become irrelevant +to the satirist writing when the past seems lost. In his +later works, Pope took Augustan satire about as far as it could go. +<em>The Epilogue to the Satires</em> becomes an epilogue to all Augustan +satire and the conclusion of <em>The New Dunciad</em> declares the death +of its own tradition. There is a sense now that England and the +world have reached the point of no return. The satirist of the +seventeen-sixties who repeats the ideas and styles of Butler, Dryden, +Swift, Gay, and Pope seems not only imitative but out-of-touch with +the world around him.</p> + +<p>But such difficulties can provide the impetus for new forms +and for original styles. And in the seventeen-sixties the writers +of formal satire show signs of responding to the challenge. Christopher +Anstey, Charles Churchill, Robert Lloyd, and Evan Lloyd +seem, during this decade, to be developing their considerable facilities +with satiric technique toward the creation of new styles. +Anstey’s <em>New Bath Guide</em> has a combination of epistolary fiction, +realism, use of naive observers, changing points of view, sweeping +view of the social scene, great range of subjects, rolicking verse +forms, and tone of detached amusement which suggests a satirist +who, while still largely derivative, had the talent to create new +techniques. Churchill and Robert Lloyd are explicit in their wish +to break from Augustan style. Churchill argues that it was “a sin +’gainst Pleasure, to design / A plan, to methodize each thought, +each line / Highly to finish.” He claims to write “When the mad +fit comes on” and praises poetry written “Wild without art, and yet +with pleasure wild” (<em>Gotham</em> [1764], II, 167-169, 172, 212). His +satire—with its deliberate, irreverant, “Byronic” run-on lines, +fanciful digressions, playful indifference to formal structure, impulsively +involuted syntax, long, wandering sentences—seems to +move, as does Robert Lloyd’s satire (at a somewhat slower pace), +toward a genuinely new style. In being chatty, fluid, iconoclastic, +spontaneous-sounding, self-revealing, his satire might eventually +prove capable of dealing with the problems that the Augustan satirists +had predicted but did not have to deal with so directly. But +both Churchill and Robert Lloyd died before they could develop +their styles to the point that they had a new, timely statement to +make. Anstey failed to develop beyond the <em>New Bath Guide</em>, and +his influence proved to be more important on the novel than on +verse satire.</p> + +<p>Evan Lloyd’s first satire, <em>The Powers of the Pen</em>, is a clever +but ordinary satire on good and bad writing. It has some historical +interest as an example of the early influence of Rousseau in England, +of part of the attack on Samuel Johnson for his adverse criticism +of Shakespeare, of the influence of Churchill (Lloyd declared +himself a disciple), and of the expression of the fashionable interest +in artlessness which was influenced as much by Joseph Warton +as by Rousseau. In a “quill shop” the narrator discovers magic +pens which write like various authors. The one whose “Mate was +purchas’d by Rousseau” can:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Teach the Passions how to grow</span><br /> +With native Vigour; unconfined<br /> +By those vile Shackles, which the Mind<br /> +Wears in the <em>School of Art</em>....<br /> +Yet will no <em>Heresies</em> admit,<br /> +To gratify the <em>Pride of Wit</em> (p. 30).</p> + +<p>He advances these critical dicta elsewhere in this satire, condemning +Johnson because he tries “Nature” by “<em>Critic-law</em>” (p. 21). +With fashionable Rousseauistic ideas he praises:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +The <em>Muse</em>, who never lov’d the Town,<br /> +Ne’er flaunted in brocaded Gown;<br /> +Pleas’d thro’ the hawthorn’d Vale to roam,<br /> +Or sing her artless Strain at Home,<br /> +Bred in plain Nature’s simple Rules,<br /> +Far from the Foppery of Schools (p. 36).</p> + +<p>Evan Lloyd, Robert Lloyd, and Churchill, starting from somewhat +different philosophic principles, all arrive at similar positions.</p> + +<p><em>The Curate</em>, his second satire, is largely autobiographical. +It shows, as does <em>The Powers of the Pen</em>, some clever turns of +phrases, pithy expressions, and amusing images. It also contains +incisive criticism of corruption in the Church, of declining respect +for Christianity, and, what seems to Lloyd almost the same thing, +of a collapsing class structure. The Church wardens, “uncivil and +unbred! / Unlick’d, untaught, un-all-things—but unfed!” are “but +sweepers of the pews, / The <em>Scullions of the Church</em>, they dare +abuse, / And rudely treat their betters” (pp. 16-17). They show a +lack of proper respect both for class-structure and Christianity:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +<em>Servant to Christ!</em> and what is that to me?<br /> +I keep a servant too, as well as He (p. 17).</p> + +<p>But <em>The Curate</em> frequently descends to a whine. The curate is +morally above reproach while those above him are arrogant and those +below him are disrespectful.</p> + +<p>The most serious problem with <em>The Curate</em>, however, is the +same as the problem with all of Lloyd’s satires except <em>The Methodist</em>, +and the same as the problem with almost all satires between +Pope and Burns or Blake. The satirist seems unwilling to probe, +to find out what are the political, ethical, psychological, or aesthetic +forces that cause the problems which the satirist condemns, +and to recommend what can be done to change these forces. If the +satirist notes any pattern at all, it is one of ineffective, unmoving +abstraction and generality.</p> + +<p>One explanation for this deliberate avoidance of more profound +issues is not hard to find. An astonishing number of satires of +this period contain a large proportion of lines devoted to describing +how wonderful everything is. The widespread conviction that +whatever is, in the England of the late eighteenth century, is right, +may have resulted from the influence of <em>An Essay on Man</em>. Or +the <em>Essay</em> may have been popular because it expressed ideas already +in general acceptance. But whatever the explanation is, the +catch-phrases extracted from Pope’s most popular work become the +touchstones of post-Augustan satire.</p> + +<p>The problem that the satirist faced in the sixties was, then, +formidable. The country was in upheaval but the conventions demanded +that the satirist say everything was nearly perfect. As a +result, satire tended toward personal whines, like <em>The Curate</em>, toward +attacking tiresomely obvious objects, like the superficial chit-chat +of Lloyd’s <em>Conversation</em>, toward trivial quarrels, like Churchill’s +<em>Rosciad</em>, toward broadly unimpeachable morals, like Johnson’s +<em>The Vanity of Human Wishes</em>. It is understandable that many writers, +such as Joseph Warton and Christopher Smart, abandoned satire +for various kinds of enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Methodism lent itself to such satire. Methodists could be described +as unfortunate aberrants from an essentially good world, +typical of those bothersome fanatics and deviants at the fringe of +society who keep this world from being perfect. They were also +logical heirs to the satire once visited upon Dissenters but which +diminished when Dissenters became more restrained in their style +of worship. (The Preface to one anti-Methodist satire even takes +pains to exclude “rational Dissenters” from its target.) Many Methodists +were followers of Calvin. These Methodists brought out the +old antagonisms against the Calvinist doctrine of Election (or the +popular version of it), directed against its severity, its apparent +encouragement of pride, and its antinomian implications. The mass +displays of emotion at Methodist meetings would be distasteful to +many people in most periods and probably were especially so in an +age in which rational behavior was particularly valued. And there +were those people who believed that Methodism, in spite of Wesley’s +arguments to the contrary, led good members of the Church of England +astray and threatened religious stability.</p> + +<p>Yet all these causes do not explain the harshness of anti-Methodist +satire. No other subject during this period received such +severe condemnation. Wesley and Whitefield were accused of seducing +their female converts, of fleecing all their converts of money, +of making trouble solely out of envy or pride. Evan Lloyd is not +so harsh nor so implacably bigoted about any other subject as he +is about Methodism. He was an intimate friend of John Wilkes, the +least bigoted of men. Also, there are essential differences between +the Dissenters of the Restoration and the Methodists of the late +eighteenth century that would seem to lessen the antagonism toward +the Methodists. To the satirists of the Restoration, Dissenters +were reminders of civil war, regicide, the chaos that religious division +could bring. Now the only threat of religious war or major +civil disturbance had come from the Jacobites, and even that threat +was safely in the past. It is notable that Swift, Pope, and Gay +tended to satirize Dissenters within the context of larger problems. +The assault on Methodists, then, is actually not a continuation of +anti-Dissenter satire but something new. Hence the whole movement +of anti-Methodist satire in the sixties and seventies has an +untypically violent tone which cannot be explained solely in terms +of satiric trends or religious attitudes. The explanation lies, I +think, partly in the social, political, and economic background.</p> + +<p>The Methodist movement was perhaps the most dramatic symptom +(or at least the symptom hardest to ignore) of the changes taking +place in England. The Methodist open-air services were needed +because new industrial areas had sprung up where there were no +churches, and lay preachers were necessary because of population +shifts but also because of the increase in population made possible +by new agricultural and manufacturing methods. The practice of +taking lay preachers from many social classes had obvious democratic +implications. Wesley, in spite of his political conservatism, +challenged a number of widely-held, complacent aphorisms, such +as the belief that people are “poor only because they are +idle.”<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> +The mass emotionalism of the evangelical meetings were reminders +that man was not so rational as certain popular ideas tried to make +him. Wesley’s insistence (with irritatingly good evidence) that he +did no more than adhere to the true doctrine of the Church of England +strongly suggested that the Church of England had strayed +somewhere. (It is rather interestingly paralleled by Wilkes’s insistence +that he only wanted to return to the Declaration of Rights, +a reminder that the government had also strayed.) And Methodism, +by its very existence and popularity, posed the question of whether +the Church of England, in its traditional form, was capable of dealing +with problems created by social and economic changes.</p> + +<p>These social, economic, and political issues are touched upon +by a number of the anti-Methodist satirists. Most of these satirists, +however, are contented simply to complain about the lower class +tone of the Methodist movement, to note generally, as Dryden and +Swift had noted before, that Protestantism contained the seeds of +mob rule. The anonymous author of <em>The Saints</em> fears “Their frantic +pray’r [is] a mere <em>Decoy</em> for <em>Mob</em>” (p. 4) and the +author<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> of <em>The +Methodist and Mimic</em> claims that Whitefield’s preaching sends “the +Brainless Mob a gadding” (p. 15). Evan Lloyd is the one anti-Methodist +satirist who explores the larger implications.</p> + +<p>Lloyd constructs his satire around the theme of general corruption, +that nothing is so virtuous that it cannot be spoiled either +by man’s weakness or by time. The theme is common in the period +and could have become banal, except that Lloyd applies it to the +corruption of the Church and its manifestations in daily life, giving +it an immediate, lively reference. The Methodist practice of lay +preachers, for example, Lloyd treats as an instance of the collapse +of the class system:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Each vulgar Trade, each sweaty Brow<br /> +Is search’d....<br /> +Hence ev’ry Blockhead, Knave, and Dunce,<br /> +Start into Preachers all at once (p. 29).</p> + +<p>Lloyd combines the language of theology, government, and civil +order to suggest a connection between recent riots, the excesses +of the Earl of Bute, the Protestant belief that religious concepts +are easily understood by all social classes, democracy, the emotional +displays of Methodism, and lay preachers:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Hence Ignorance of ev’ry size,<br /> +Of ev’ry shape Wit can devise,<br /> +Altho’ so dull it hardly knows, ...<br /> +When it is Day, or when ’tis Night,<br /> +Shall yet pretend to keep the Key<br /> +Of <em>God</em>’s dark Secrets, and display<br /> +His <em>hidden Mysteries</em>, as free<br /> +As if <em>God’s privy Council</em> He,<br /> +Shall to his Presence rush, and dare<br /> +To raise a <em>pious Riot</em> there (pp. 29-30).</p> + +<p>Lloyd presents an essentially disorderly world in which chaos +spreads almost inevitably, in which riots, corrupt ministers, arrogant +fools, disrespectful lower classes, giddy middle classes, and +lascivious upper classes are barely kept in check by a system of +social class, government, and church. Now, with the checks withdrawn, +lawyers and physicians spread their own disorder even further +as they:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Quit their beloved wrangling <em>Hall</em>,<br /> +More loudly in a <em>Church</em> to bawl: ...<br /> +And full as fervent, on their Knees,<br /> +For <em>Heav’n</em> they pray, as once for <em>Fees</em>; ...<br /> +The <em>Physic-Tribe</em> their Art resign,<br /> +And lose the <em>Quack</em> in the <em>Divine</em>; ...<br /> +Of a <em>New-birth</em> they prate, and prate<br /> +While <em>Midwifry</em> is out of Date (pp. 30-31).</p> + +<p>He combines the language of tradesmen with the language of mythology +and theology to suggest, rather wittily and effectively, that +disorder can be commonplace and cosmic simultaneously:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">The</span> <em>Bricklay’r</em> throws his <em>Trowel</em> by,<br /> +And now <em>builds Mansions in the Sky</em>; ...<br /> +The <em>Waterman</em> forgets his <em>Wherry</em>,<br /> +And opens a <em>celestial Ferry</em>; ...<br /> +The <em>Fishermen</em> no longer set<br /> +For <em>Fish</em> the Meshes of their Net,<br /> +But catch, like <em>Peter</em>, <em>Men of Sin</em>,<br /> +For <em>catching</em> is to <em>take them in</em> (pp. 32-34).</p> + +<p>This spreading confusion is, however, not just a passing social +problem but one that results from many breasts being “tainted” +and many hearts “infected” (p. 34). The corruption is almost universal +and results in Wesley (as he actually did) selling “Powders, +Draughts, and Pills.” Madan “the springs of Health <em>unlocks</em>,/ And +by his Preaching cures the <em>P</em>[<em>ox</em>],” (he was Chaplain of Lock Hospital) +and Romaine:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Pulls you by <em>Gravity up-Hill</em>, ...<br /> +By your <em>bad Deeds</em> your <em>Faith</em> you shew,<br /> +’Tis but <em>believe</em>, and <em>up You go</em> (p. 36).</p> + +<p>Lloyd treats the confusion between sexual desire and religious +fervor as another aspect of general human depravity, extending the +satire beyond the crude accusation of hypocrisy or cynicism. He +argues that the confusion is a part of the human condition, allowed +to go out of control by a religion that puts passion before reason. +The Countess of Huntingdon, “cloy’d with <em>carnal</em> Bliss,” longs “to +taste how <em>Spirits</em> kiss.” In his all-inclusive catalogue of “<em>Knaves</em>/ +That crawl on <em>Earth</em>” Lloyd includes “<em>Prudes</em> that crowd to <em>Pews</em>,/ +While their <em>Thoughts</em> ramble to the <em>Stews</em>” (p. 48).</p> + +<p>What makes Lloyd interesting, in spite of his many derivative +ideas and techniques, is inadvertently pointed out by the <em>Critical +Review</em>, which complains that “the author outmethodizes even +Methodism itself.”<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> That the brutal tone of <em>The Methodist</em> went +beyond the license usually permitted the satirists was recognized +by Lloyd himself. At the conclusion of the satire he asks God to +halt the Methodist movement by getting to its source:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Quench the hot flame, O God, that Burns<br /> +And <em>Piety</em> to <em>Phrenzy</em> turns!</p> + +<p>And then, after a few lines, he applies the same terms to himself:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +But soft——my <em>Muse</em>! thy Breath recall——<br /> +Turn not <em>Religion</em>’s Milk to Gall!<br /> +Let not thy <em>Zeal</em> within thee nurse<br /> +A <em>holy Rage</em>! or <em>pious Curse</em>!<br /> +Far other is the <em>heav’nly Plan</em>,<br /> +Which the <em>Redeemer</em> gave to Man (pp. 52-53).</p> + +<p>The satirist, as Robert C. Elliott points out, has always, in art, +satirized himself.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> But there is here as throughout this satire, some +attempt to develop a style which will express the belief that the +world will always be disorderly and that the disorder stems from +man’s “Zeal within.” This condition of the world can be expressed +satirically by a personal, informal satire which recognizes and +dramatizes just how universal the corruption is and how commonplace +its manifestations have become.</p> + +<p>The informal, disorderly syntax, the colloquial diction, the +chatty tone, the run-on lines, the conscious roughness of meter and +rhyme, may have derived from Churchill, but they become here more +relevant than in any of Churchill’s satires. They combine with the +intemperate tone and the satirist’s concluding confession, his self-identification +with the object of satire, to create a sense of an unheroic +satirist, one who does not represent a highly commendable +satiric alternative. Satire must now turn its vision from the heroic, +the apocalyptic, the broadly philosophical, even from the depraved, +and become exceedingly ordinary. It must recognize that there is +little hope in going back to lofty Augustan ideals. For such subjects, +it uses the impulsive tone of an over-emotional satirist who +is as flawed as the subject he satirizes and still represents the +best of a disordered world.</p> + +<p>Lloyd had attempted an autobiographical satire in <em>The Curate</em>. +He failed to create an important satire for a number of reasons, one +of which was that he tried to present himself as a high ideal, a belief +that he apparently held so weakly that the satire became merely +petulant. Lloyd corrected this error in <em>The Methodist</em> and now seems, +however briefly, to have opened the way to a truly prophetic style +of satire.</p> + +<p>After <em>The Methodist</em> Lloyd wrote <em>Conversation</em>, a satire that +not only failed to fulfill the promise of <em>The Methodist</em> but is more +conservative in theme and style than any of his earlier satires.</p> + +<p>After that work he produced little. He published an expanded version +of <em>The Power of the Pen</em> and a dull ode printed in <em>The Annual +Register</em>. When William Kenrick, in <em>Love in the Suds</em>, implied that +Garrick was Isaac Bickerstaff’s lover, Lloyd defended Garrick in +<em>Epistle to David Garrick</em>. Kenrick replied with <em>A Whipping for the +Welch Parson</em>, an ironic Dunciad-Variorum-type editing of Lloyd’s +<em>Epistle</em>, in which he got much the better of Lloyd. Lloyd was no +match for Kenrick at this sort of thing. Except for these uninteresting +productions and his convivial friendship with Wilkes and +Garrick, we hear not much more of Lloyd.</p> + +<p>We know so little about his life that we can only speculate +why he failed to follow up the promise of <em>The Methodist</em>; why, after +favorable reviews from the journals<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and the flattering friendship +of famous men, he was not encouraged to continue a career that +was as promising as the early career of many famous satirists. +The explanation may lie solely in his personality. Perhaps the +moderate success he achieved and the financial rewards it brought +were enough for him.</p> + +<p>Another explanation is suggested by the conservative ideas +and style of <em>Conversation</em>, which are more like Pope’s than are the +ideas and style of any earlier satire of Lloyd’s. In this satire he +explicitly repudiates his older, freer critical dicta in both theory +and practice:</p> + +<p class="poem1"> +Tho’ this be <em>Form</em>—yet bend to <em>Form</em> we must,<br /> +Fools <em>with it</em> please, <em>without it</em> Wits disgust (p. 3).</p> + +<p>He uses mostly end-stop couplets, parallel constructions, Augustan +diction and similes. Apparently, he began his rejection of his new +ideas and style immediately after <em>The Methodist</em> and before his +1766-1767 outburst of satire-writing was over.</p> + +<p>Lloyd, in writing <em>The Methodist</em>, seems to have come as close +as any satirist before Blake and the writers of <em>The Anti-Jacobin</em> +to seeing the problems England and the world were headed toward, +to recognizing how genuinely volatile English society was in the +middle of the century, and to creating a style which could deal with +those problems satirically. It may be that he got some realization +that his own long passages in <em>The Methodist</em> praising this best of +all possible worlds (pp. 16-20) and his invocation to the “heav’nly +Plan” at the conclusion made no sense, that they were contradicted +by other passages in the same satire, that England and the world +were changing with enormous rapidity, and that the satirist would +have to create a new style to express the tremendous economic, +political, social, and religious problems that were coming into being. +It may be that getting such a faint notion he withdrew into +artistic conservatism, into conviviality, and into silence.</p> + +<p><br />Temple University</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +</div> +<h2>NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> For a survey of all Lloyd’s work see Cecil J. L. Price, <em>A Man of Genius +and a Welch Man</em> (University of Swansea, Wales, 1963). Lloyd +is the subject of an unpublished dissertation, <em>The Moral Beau</em>, by Paul +E. Parnell (New York University, 1956). Two short passages from +<em>The Methodist</em> are included in <em>The Penguin Book of Satirical Verse</em>, +ed. Edward Lucie-Smith (Baltimore, 1967).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Most recently, Albert M. Lyles, <em>Methodism Mocked</em> (London, 1960).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Journal, 8 February 1753, quoted by A. R. Humphreys, <em>The Augustan +World</em> (New York, 1963), p. 20.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The pseudonymous author, Peter Paragraph, is identified by Halkett +and Laing, <em>Dictionary of Anonymous and Pseudonymous English Literature</em>, +as James Makittrick Adair. Adair did write some works under +that pseudonym but probably did not write <em>The Methodist and Mimic</em>. +Lyles, <em>op. cit.</em>, p. 129n., suggests that the author may be Samuel Foote, +in whose play, <em>The Orators</em>, a character, Peter Paragraph, appears, +probably representing George Faulkner. Robert Lloyd, in “The Cobbler +of Cripplegate’s Letter,” hints that Peter Paragraph may be Bonnel +Thornton.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <em>The Critical Review</em>, XXIII (1766), pp. 75-77.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <em>The Power of Satire</em> (Princeton, 1960), p. 222 and <em>passim</em>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> The Methodist was reviewed by <em>The Monthly Review</em>, XXV (1766), +pp. 319-321, and <em>Gentleman’s Magazine</em>, XXXVI (1766), p. 335. <em>Conversation</em> +was reviewed more favorably by <em>The Monthly Review</em>, XXXVII +(1767), p. 394, and by <em>The Critical Review</em> XXIV (1767), pp. 341-343. +<em>The Critical Review</em> compared him with Swift.</p></div> + + +<div class="box"> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</h2> + +<p style="margin-left: 10em; margin-right: 10em;"> +This facsimile of <em>The Methodist</em> (1766) is reproduced +from a copy [840. k. 10. (18.)] in the British +Museum by kind permission of the Trustees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h3>T H E</h3> +<p> </p> +<h6>METHODIST<span style="margin-left: -.5em;">.</span></h6> +<p> </p> +<h3>A</h3> +<p> </p> +<h5>POEM<span style="margin-left: -1em;">.</span></h5> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> +<img src="images/img017.png" width="336" height="117" alt="signature of E Lloyd" title="" /> +</div> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF</h4> +<h2>The Powers of the Pen, and The Curate.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 90%; color: black;" /> + +<h3><span style="letter-spacing: .3em;">LONDON:<br /> +PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR;</span><br /> +And Sold by <span class="smcap">Richardson</span> and <span class="smcap">Urquhart</span>, under the<br /> +<span class="smcap">Royal-Exchange, Cornhill</span>.</h3> + +<h3>——————<br /> +MDCCLXVI.</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h3>T H E</h3> +<p> </p> +<h6>METHODIST<span style="margin-left: -.5em;">.</span></h6> +<p> </p> + +<p class="poem"> +Nothing, search all creation round,<br /> +Nothing so <em>firmly good</em> is found,<br /> +Whose substance, with such closeness knit,<br /> +<em>Corruption</em>’s <em>Touch</em> will not admit;<br /> +But, spite of all incroaching stains,<br /> +Its native purity retains:<br /> +Whose texture will nor warp, nor fade,<br /> +Though moths and weather shou’d invade,<br /> +Which <em>Time</em>’s sharp tooth cannot corrode,<br /> +Proof against <em>Accident</em> and <em>Mode</em>;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +And, maugre each assailing dart,<br /> +Thrown by the hand of Force, or Art,<br /> +Remains (let Fate do what it will)<br /> +<em>Simple</em> and <em>uncorrupted</em> still.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Virtue</em>, of constitution nice,<br /> +Quickly degen’rates into <em>Vice</em>;<br /> +Change but the <em>Person</em>, <em>Place</em>, and <em>Time</em>,<br /> +And what was <em>Merit</em> turns to <em>Crime</em>.<br /> +<em>Wisdom</em>, which men with so much pain,<br /> +With so much weariness attain,<br /> +May in a little moment quit,<br /> +And abdicate the throne of Wit,<br /> +And leave, a vacant seat, the brain,<br /> +For Folly to usurp and reign.<br /> +Should you but discompose the tide,<br /> +On which <em>Ideas</em> wont to ride,<br /> +<em>Ferment</em> it with a <em>yeasty Storm</em>,<br /> +Or with high <em>Floods of Wine</em> deform;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +Altho’ <em>Sir Oracle</em> is he,<br /> +Who is as wise, as wise can be,<br /> +In one short minute we shall find<br /> +The wise man gone, a fool behind.<br /> +<em>Courage</em>, that is all nerve and heart,<br /> +That dares confront Death’s brandish’d dart,<br /> +That dares to single Fight defy<br /> +The stoutest Hector of the sky,<br /> +Whose mettle ne’er was known to slack,<br /> +Nor wou’d on thunder turn his back;<br /> +How small a matter may controul,<br /> +And sooth the fury of his soul!<br /> +Shou’d this intrepid Mars, his clay<br /> +Dilute with nerve-relaxing Tea,<br /> +Thin broths, thin whey, or water-gruel,<br /> +He is no longer fierce and cruel,<br /> +But mild and gentle as a dove,<br /> +The <em>Hero</em>’s melted down to <em>Love</em>.<br /> +The <em>juices</em> soften’d, (here we note<br /> +More on the <em>juices</em> than the <em>Coat</em><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +Depends, to make a valiant Mars<br /> +Rich in the heraldry of scars)<br /> +The <em>Man</em> is <em>soften’d</em> too, and shews<br /> +No fondness for a bloody nose.<br /> +When <em>Georgy S—k——le shunn’d the Fray</em>,<br /> +He’d swill’d a little too much Tea.<br /> +<em>Chastity</em> melts like sun-kiss’d snow,<br /> +When Lust’s hot wind begins to blow.<br /> +Let but that <em>horrid Creature, Man</em>,<br /> +Breathe on a lady thro’ her fan,<br /> +Her <em>Virtue</em> thaws, and by and bye<br /> +Will of the <em>falling Sickness</em> die.<br /> +Lo! <em>Beauty</em>, still more transitory,<br /> +Fades in the mid-day of its glory!<br /> +For <em>Nature</em> in her kindness swore,<br /> +That she who kills, shall kill no more;<br /> +And in pure mercy does erase<br /> +Each killing feature in the face;<br /> +Plucks from the cheek the damask rose,<br /> +E’en at the moment that it blows;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +Dims the bright lustre of those eyes<br /> +To which the Gods wou’d sacrifice;<br /> +Dries the moist lip, and pales its hue,<br /> +And brushes off its honied dew;<br /> +Flattens the proudly swelling chest,<br /> +Furrows the round elastic breast,<br /> +And all the Loves that on it play’d,<br /> +Are in a tomb of wrinkles laid;<br /> +Recalls those charms, which she design’d<br /> +To <em>please</em>, and not <em>bewitch</em> Mankind;<br /> +But with too delicate a touch,<br /> +Heightening the <em>Ornaments</em> too much,<br /> +She finds her daughters can convert<br /> +Blessings to curses, good to hurt,<br /> +Proof of parental love to give,<br /> +She blots them out that Man may live.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +The hour will come (which let not me<br /> +Indulgent Nature, live to see!)<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +The hour will come, when <em>Chloe</em>’s form<br /> +Shall with its beauty feed the worm;<br /> +That face where troops of Cupids throng,<br /> +Whose charms first warm’d me into song,<br /> +Shall wrinkle, wither, and decay,<br /> +To Age, and to Disease, a prey!<br /> +<em>Chloe</em>, in whom are so combin’d<br /> +The charms of body and of mind,<br /> +As might to Earth elicit <em>Jove</em>,<br /> +Thinking his Heav’n well left for Love;<br /> +Perfection as she is, the hour<br /> +Will come, when she must feel the pow’r<br /> +Of <em>Time</em>, and to his wither’d arms,<br /> +Resign the rifling of her charms!<br /> +Must veil her beauties in a cloud,<br /> +A grave her bed, her robe a shroud!<br /> +When all her glowing, vivid bloom,<br /> +Must fade and wither in the tomb!<br /> +When she who bears the ensigns now,<br /> +Of Beauty’s Priestess on her brow,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +Shall to th’ abhorr’d embrace of Death<br /> +Give up the sweetness of her breath!<br /> +When worms—but stop, <em>Description</em>, there—<br /> +My heart cannot the picture bear—<br /> +Sickens to think there is a day,<br /> +When <em>Chloe</em> will be made a prey<br /> +To Death, a piece-meal feast for him<br /> +With rav’nous jaw to tear each limb,<br /> +And feature after feature eat,<br /> +While <em>Beauty</em> only serves for <em>Meat</em>—<br /> +Wretched to know that this is true,<br /> +Forbear t’ anticipate the view!<br /> +Hence, <em>Observation</em>!—take your leave!—<br /> +And kindly, <em>Memory</em>, deceive!<br /> +And when some forty years are fled,<br /> +And age has on her beauties fed,<br /> +Dear <em>Self-Delusion</em>! lend thy skill<br /> +To fancy she is <em>Chloe</em> still!</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Cities</em> and <em>Empires</em> will decay,<br /> +And to <em>Corruption</em> fall a prey!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +<em>Athens</em>, of arts the native land,<br /> +Cou’d not the stroke of Time withstand;<br /> +There Serpents hiss, and ravens croak,<br /> +Where <em>Socrates</em> and <em>Plato</em> spoke.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Proud <em>Troy</em> herself (as all things must)<br /> +Is crumbled into native dust;<br /> +Is now a pasture, where the beast<br /> +Strays for his vegetable feast,<br /> +Old <em>Priam</em>’s royal palace now<br /> +May couch the ox, the ass, the cow.—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Rome</em>, city of imperial worth,<br /> +The mighty mistress of the earth;<br /> +<em>Rome</em>, that gave law to all the world,<br /> +Is now to blank Destruction hurl’d!—<br /> +Is now a sepulchre, a tomb,<br /> +To tell the stranger, “Here was <em>Rome</em>.”—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +View the <em>West Abbey</em>! there we see<br /> +How frail a thing is royalty!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +Where crowns and sceptres worms supply,<br /> +And kings and queens, like lumber lie.<br /> +The <em>Tombs themselves</em> are worn away,<br /> +And own the empire of <em>Decay</em>,<br /> +Mouldering like the royal dust,<br /> +Which to preserve they have in trust.<br /> +Nor has the <em>Marble</em> more withstood<br /> +The rage of <em>Time</em>, than <em>Flesh and Blood</em>!<br /> +The <em>King of Stone</em> is worn away,<br /> +As well as is the <em>King of Clay</em>—<br /> +Here lies a <em>King without a Nose</em>,<br /> +And there a <em>Prince without his Toes</em>;<br /> +Here on her back a <em>Royal Fair</em><br /> +Lies, but a little worse for wear;<br /> +Those lips, whose touch cou’d almost turn<br /> +Old age to youth, and make it burn;<br /> +To which young kings were proud to kneel,<br /> +Are kick’d by every Schoolboy’s heel;<br /> +Struck rudely by the <em>Showman’s Wand</em>,<br /> +And crush’d by every callous Hand:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +Here a <em>puissant Monarch</em> frowns<br /> +In menace high to rival Crowns;<br /> +He threatens—but will do no harm—<br /> +Our <em>Monarch</em> has not left an arm.<br /> +Thus all <em>Things</em> feel the gen’ral curse,<br /> +<em>That all Things must with Time grow worse</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +But your Philosophers will say,<br /> +<em>Best Things grow worst when they decay</em>.<br /> +And many facts they have at hand<br /> +To prove it, shou’d you proofs demand.<br /> +As if <em>Corruption</em> shut her jaw,<br /> +And scorn’d to cram her filthy maw,<br /> +With aught but dainties rich and rare,<br /> +And morsels of the choicest fare;<br /> +As garden Birds are led to bite,<br /> +Where’er the fairest fruits invite.<br /> +If <em>Phœbus’</em> rays too fiercely burn,<br /> +The <em>richest Wines</em> to <em>sourest</em> turn:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +And they who living <em>highly fed</em>,<br /> +Will breed a <em>Pestilence when dead</em>.<br /> +Thus <em>Aldermen</em>, who at each Feast,<br /> +Cram Tons of Spices from the East,<br /> +Whose leading wish, and only plan,<br /> +Is to learn how to <em>pickle Man</em>;<br /> +Who more than vie with <em>Ægypt</em>’s art,<br /> +And make themselves a <em>human Tart</em>,<br /> +A <em>walking Pastry-Shop</em>, a <em>Gut</em>,<br /> +Shambles by Wholesale to inglut;<br /> +And gorge each high-concocted Mess<br /> +The art of Cookery can dress:<br /> +Yet spite of all, when <em>Death</em> thinks fit<br /> +To take them off, lest t’ other bit<br /> +Shou’d burst these <em>living Mummies</em>, able<br /> +Neither to eat, nor quit the Table;<br /> +Whether He Dropsy sends or Gout,<br /> +To fetch them by the Shoulders out;<br /> +Tho’ living they were <em>Salt</em> and <em>Spice</em>,<br /> +The carcase is not over nice;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +And all may find, who have a <em>Nose</em>,<br /> +<em>Dead Aldermen</em> are not a rose.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +This reas’ning only serves to shew,<br /> +The world call’d <em>Natural</em>, is so.<br /> +But various instances proclaim,<br /> +’Tis in the <em>moral World</em> the same.<br /> +Thus <em>Woman</em>, Nature’s <em>chastest</em> work,<br /> +<em>Lust-struck</em>, out-paramours the Turk;<br /> +Tho’ <em>gentle</em> as the suckling Child,<br /> +<em>Enrag’d</em>, than famish’d Wolves more wild;<br /> +A more fell minister of <em>Death</em>—<br /> +<em>Rime</em> gives the instance in <em>Mackbeth</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Reason herself</em>, that <em>sober Dame</em>,<br /> +So mild, so temperate, so tame,<br /> +Her head once turn’d, and giddy grown,<br /> +Raving with phrenzy not her own,<br /> +Plays madder pranks, more full of spleen<br /> +Than any Hoyden of sixteen.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +Whether she burns with <em>Love</em> or <em>Hate</em>,<br /> +Or grows with <em>baseless Hopes</em> elate,<br /> +With <em>Desperation</em> is forlorn,<br /> +Or with imagin’d horrors torn,<br /> +If on <em>Ambition</em>’s swelling tide,<br /> +Her crazy bark from side to side,<br /> +Reels like a drunkard, tempest-tost,<br /> +Or in the <em>Gulph of Pride</em> is lost;<br /> +Whate’er the <em>leading Passion</em> be,<br /> +That works the Soul’s anxiety,<br /> +In each <em>Extreme</em> th’ effect is bad,<br /> +<em>Sense</em> grows diseas’d, and <em>Reason</em> mad.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Why shou’d the Muse of <em>Angels</em> tell<br /> +Turn’d into <em>Devils</em> when they fell?<br /> +Why search the Chronicles of <em>Hell</em>,<br /> +While <em>Earth</em> examples it as well?<br /> +Why talk of <em>Satan</em>, while we see<br /> +Each day some new Apostacy?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +<em>Tories</em> to <em>Whigs</em> convert, and <em>Whigs</em>,<br /> +<em>Mere Ministerial Whirlegigs</em>,<br /> +Turn’d by the hand of <em>Int’rest</em>, take<br /> +The <em>Tory-part</em>, for Lucre’s sake.<br /> +<em>Patriots</em> turn <em>Placemen</em>, and support<br /> +Against their Country’s good the Court;<br /> +Are bought with <em>Pensions</em> to retire,<br /> +When drooping Kingdoms most require<br /> +Their aid——Tho’ here the Muse wou’d fain<br /> +<em>Except</em> ONE of the <em>pension’d Train</em>,<br /> +(<em>One</em> meritorious ’bove the rest,<br /> +A <em>patriot Minister</em>, confest)<br /> +Yet strictest honour can’t acquit<br /> +That <em>Pensioner</em>, who once was <em>P——</em>.<br /> +Instance on instance to my view<br /> +Come rushing, of the changeling crew,<br /> +That I could quarrel with my Nature,<br /> +To think that Man is such a Creature—<br /> +And are we all a fickle tribe,<br /> +Venal to ev’ry golden bribe?<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +Is there not one of honour found,<br /> +In all the List of <em>Placemen</em> found?<br /> +Yes—<em>one</em> there is, in perils tried,<br /> +Yet never known to <em>change his Side</em>,<br /> +Or <em>Principles</em>—nor think it strange,<br /> +He ne’er had <em>Principles</em> to change,<br /> +And for a <em>Side</em> (the proof is new)<br /> +He’s <em>none</em>, because that <em>he has two</em>.<br /> +Throw him from <em>Party</em>’s giddy heights,<br /> +A <em>Cat in Politics</em> he lights<br /> +Ever upon his feet; his heart<br /> +Clings both to <em>Whig</em> and <em>Tory-part</em>;<br /> +Is <em>this</em>, is <em>that</em>, is <em>both</em>, or <em>neither</em>,<br /> +And still keeps shifting with the Weather.<br /> +Who does not know that <em>T—s—d</em>’s he,<br /> +That reads the <em>Book of Ministry</em>?</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Thus let us turn where’er we will,<br /> +<em>Each Machiavel</em>’s a <em>Changeling</em> still.<br /> +But tho’ among all <em>Nature</em>’s works<br /> +The seed of foul <em>Corruption</em> lurks,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +Yet no where is it known to bear<br /> +So vile a Crop on Ground so fair,<br /> +As when upon <em>Religion</em>’s root<br /> +<em>It raises Diabolic Fruit</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +When the Almighty Father’s Love<br /> +Call’d Things to Being, from above<br /> +Millions of winged <em>Blessings</em> flew,<br /> +Sent from his right hand, to bedew<br /> +The new-born Earth, and from their wings<br /> +Shed good on all <em>created Things</em>.<br /> +Precious and various tho’ the store<br /> +Which down to Earth these Legates bore,<br /> +That <em>Heav’nly Spark</em> we <em>Reason call</em>,<br /> +Was far the richest boon of all.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +By <em>this</em> we find <em>th’ Almighty Cause</em><br /> +From whom the World its Being draws;<br /> +<em>By whom Earth</em>’s plenteous Table’s spread,<br /> +At which each living Creature’s fed;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +<em>Who</em> gave the <em>Breath of Life</em>, and whence<br /> +This fine <em>Variety</em> of <em>Sense</em>;<br /> +<em>Whose Hands</em> unfold the azure sky,<br /> +Sublimely pleasing to <em>the Eye</em>;<br /> +<em>Who</em> tun’d the feather’d Songster’s throat,<br /> +Giving such softness to his note,<br /> +To fill the <em>Ear</em> with dulcet sound,<br /> +And pour sweet Music all around;<br /> +Who on the teeming Branches plac’d<br /> +Such various Fruit to please the <em>Taste</em>;<br /> +What bounteous Hand perfum’d the <em>Rose</em>,<br /> +And ev’ry scented Flow’r that blows,<br /> +And wafts its fragrance thro’ the Vale,<br /> +Courting the <em>Smell</em> in ev’ry gale,<br /> +To <em>whom</em> it is we owe so much<br /> +Substantial pleasure in the <em>Touch</em>;<br /> +And <em>whence</em>, superior to the whole,<br /> +Those raptures that transport <em>the Soul</em>;<br /> +<em>This</em> gives our Gratitude to glow<br /> +To him, from whom such Blessings flow;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +This teaches Man his <em>moral Part</em>,<br /> +And grafts <em>Religion</em> in the Heart.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Glory to God, good Will to Man,<br /> +And Peace on Earth</em>, compos’d the plan,<br /> +For which <em>Religion</em> first came down,<br /> +And brought to Earth a <em>heav’nly Crown</em>.<br /> +Better her Purpose to complete,<br /> +And <em>Satan</em>’s Malice to defeat,<br /> +A Troop of <em>holy Genii</em> came,<br /> +Co-workers in the glorious Scheme.<br /> +To each a scroll the Goddess gave,<br /> +On which these lines She did engrave:<br /> +“Go, teach the sons of Men to raise<br /> +Their voice unto their <em>Maker</em>’s praise.<br /> +Go, call forth <em>Charity</em> to meet<br /> +Distress that seeks her in the Street;<br /> +Bid her the lame with Legs supply,<br /> +And be unto the blind an Eye;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +A Mantle o’er the naked throw,<br /> +And reach a healing hand to Woe;<br /> +Visit the bed where Sickness lies,<br /> +And wipe the tears from Orphans eyes;<br /> +Bid her Affliction’s hour beguile,<br /> +And teach the tear-worn Cheek to smile;<br /> +Bid her send Comfort to expell<br /> +Grief from the lonely Widow’s Cell;<br /> +Make blunt the arrows of Mischance,<br /> +And ope the eyes of Ignorance;<br /> +To those lost Pilgrims point the Way,<br /> +Who in <em>Sin</em>’s tenfold Darkness stray,<br /> +Recall them from <em>Hell</em>’s thickest night,<br /> +And shew <em>Salvation</em>’s glorious Light;<br /> +For thus the World that Peace shall find,<br /> +For which it was by <em>God</em> design’d.”—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Such the commands <em>Religion</em> gave,<br /> +When first she came the World to save,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +Such the attendants in her Train,<br /> +When She began her holy Reign.<br /> +And when <em>Messiah</em>’s gracious Love<br /> +Urg’d him to leave the <em>Realms</em> above,<br /> +Urg’d him to quit his <em>heav’nly Throne</em>,<br /> +His People’s Trespass to atone,<br /> +And, tho’ so long they had withstood<br /> +His Will, to wash them with his Blood;<br /> +The great Command he did renew,<br /> +To <em>give to God, and Man his due</em>;<br /> +Bade the bright <em>Sun of Faith</em> arise,<br /> +And open’d Heav’n to mortal eyes,<br /> +Leaving <em>Religion</em> on the Earth,<br /> +More fair and pure than at her Birth.—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +How mutilated now and marr’d,<br /> +Deform’d, distorted, mangled, scarr’d!<br /> +Thro’ <em>modern Conventicles</em> trace<br /> +The Goddess, you’ll not know her face:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +The <em>holy Genii</em> all are fled,<br /> +And <em>Sprites</em> and <em>Dev’ls</em> come in their stead.<br /> +And now a counterfeiting Dame<br /> +Usurps <em>Religion</em>’s sacred Name,<br /> +But no more like in <em>Heart</em> or <em>Face</em>,<br /> +Than <em>F—x</em>’s deeds to deeds of Grace.<br /> +Visit her at her <em>T-tt—m</em> Seat,<br /> +You’ll find she is an errant Cheat.<br /> +For <em>Satan</em>, Man’s invet’rate foe,<br /> +Whose greatest joy is human woe,<br /> +Repining at the heav’nly Plan,<br /> +That promis’d so much Good to Man,<br /> +Us’d all his Malice, Wit, and Pow’r,<br /> +The World’s great Blessings to devour.<br /> +Well the <em>malicious Spirit</em> knew<br /> +Whence <em>Man</em> his chief resources drew<br /> +Of Happiness, and saw confest,<br /> +Where all was good, <em>Religion</em> best;<br /> +And at her unpolluted Heart<br /> +He aim’d his most envenom’d Dart.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +He knew the Interest of <em>Hell</em><br /> +Cou’d never on the <em>Earth</em> go well,<br /> +While <em>pure Religion</em> did maintain<br /> +O’er Man a sanctimonious reign.<br /> +With her he wag’d malicious War,<br /> +He might, if not destroy her, mar<br /> +Her Face; might with false Lights misguide,<br /> +And make her Combat on his side.<br /> +Highly did his <em>Ambition</em> burn<br /> +Heav’n’s Arms against itself to turn.<br /> +Nor would his <em>Malice</em> triumph less,<br /> +To <em>damn</em> where <em>God</em> design’d to <em>bless</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +For this <em>the Fiend</em> to Earth ascends,<br /> +To try his Int’rest with his Friends.<br /> +Long in his fiery Chariot hurl’d,<br /> +He had explor’d the pendent World;<br /> +Long had he search’d without avail,<br /> +Each <em>Meeting</em>, <em>Dungeon</em>, <em>Court</em>, and <em>Jail</em>,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +Each <em>Mart of Villainy</em>, where <em>Vice</em><br /> +Presides, and <em>Virtue</em> bears no Price,<br /> +Where <em>Fraud</em>, <em>Hypocrisy</em>, and <em>Lies</em><br /> +Are selling while the Devil buys.<br /> +Long had he search’d, but could not find<br /> +An <em>Agent</em> suited to his Mind,<br /> +Who cou’d transact his Business well,<br /> +And do on Earth the work of Hell;<br /> +That he might at his leisure go,<br /> +And manage his Affairs below.—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Tir’d and despairing of a Friend<br /> +On whom he safely might depend,<br /> +At <em>T-tt—m</em> he alights from Air—<br /> +<em>Magus</em>, that <em>Sorcerer</em>, was there.<br /> +Pleas’d <em>Satan</em> somewhat nearer drew,<br /> +Look’d thro’ him at a single view,<br /> +Bless’d his good Luck, and grinn’d aghast—<br /> +“’Tis well, for I have found at last,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +The Thing I long have sought, in <em>Thee</em>,<br /> +<em>An Agent in Iniquity</em>.<br /> +Thus let me mark Thee for my own,<br /> +And from henceforth for <em>mine</em> be known.”</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Then with out-stretched claws his Eyes<br /> +He <em>twisted</em> diff’rent ways—the <em>Skies</em><br /> +Are watch’d by <em>one</em>, and (strange to tell!)<br /> +The <em>other</em> is the Guard of <em>Hell</em>.<br /> +Then thus—“’Tis fit thy Eyes shou’d roll,<br /> +<em>Cross</em> as the purpose of thy Soul,<br /> +Fit that they look a diff’rent way,<br /> +Like what You <em>do</em>, and what You <em>say</em>;<br /> +Thy <em>Eye-balls</em> now are pois’d and hung,<br /> +As even as thy <em>Heart</em> and <em>Tongue</em>—<br /> +Prosper—to <em>me</em>, to <em>Hell</em> (he cried)<br /> +Be true, but false to all beside.<br /> +<em>Riches are mine</em>—I will repay<br /> +For ev’ry Soul you lead astray—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +Give out thyself a Light to shew<br /> +Which way ’tis best to Heav’n to go;<br /> +But lead the Pilgrims wrong, and shine<br /> +An <em>Ignis fatuus</em> of mine—<br /> +Draw them thro’ bog, thro’ brake, thro’ mire,<br /> +I’ll dry them at a <em>rousing Fire</em>.”</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Magus</em> complacent smil’d—his Eyes<br /> +Twinkled with signs of Joy, one flies<br /> +Upward, and t’other down, like Scales,<br /> +Where this ascends, when that prevails—<br /> +Then <em>thrice</em> he turn’d upon his heel,<br /> +And swore Allegiance to the <em>De’el</em>—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Right faithfully his <em>Oath</em> he kept,<br /> +And might each Night before he slept<br /> +Boast of his labours to maintain,<br /> +And spread abroad his <em>Master</em>’s Reign;<br /> +Might boast the magic of his Rod<br /> +To whip away the <em>Love of God</em>,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +For all of <em>God</em> he makes appear<br /> +Has nought to <em>love</em>, but all to <em>fear</em>.<br /> +That debt, which <em>Gratitude</em> each day<br /> +Paying, wou’d still own much to pay;<br /> +Instead of <em>Duty</em> freely paid,<br /> +A <em>Tyrant</em>’s <em>hard Exaction</em>’s made.<br /> +Fitted the simple to cajole,<br /> +First of his Wits, and then his Soul,<br /> +He urges fifty false Pretences,<br /> +Preaching his Hearers from their Senses.<br /> +He knows his <em>Master</em>’s Realm so well,<br /> +His Sermons are a <em>Map of Hell</em>,<br /> +An <em>Ollio</em> made of <em>Conflagration</em>,<br /> +Of <em>Gulphs of Brimstone</em>, and <em>Damnation</em>,<br /> +<em>Eternal Torments</em>, <em>Furnace</em>, <em>Worm</em>,<br /> +<em>Hell-Fire</em>, a <em>Whirlwind</em>, and a <em>Storm</em>,<br /> +With <em>Mammon</em>, <em>Satan</em>, and <em>Perdition</em>,<br /> +And <em>Beelzebub</em> to help the Dish on;<br /> +<em>Belial</em> and <em>Lucifer</em>, and all<br /> +The <em>nick-Names</em> which <em>old Nick</em> we call—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +But he has ta’en especial care,<br /> +To have nor <em>Sense</em> nor <em>Reason</em> there.<br /> +A thousand scorching Words beside,<br /> +Over his tongue as glibly slide,<br /> +Familiar as a glass of wine,<br /> +Or a Tobacco-pipe on mine;<br /> +That You wou’d swear he was compleater,<br /> +Than <em>Powell</em>, as a <em>Fire-Eater</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Virgins he will seduce astray,<br /> +Only to shew the shortest Way<br /> +To <em>Heaven</em>, and because it lies<br /> +Above the <em>Zodiac</em> in the Skies,<br /> +That they <em>may better see the Track</em>,<br /> +He lays them down <em>upon their Back</em>.<br /> +Domestic Peace he can destroy,<br /> +And the confusion view with Joy,<br /> +Children from Parents he can draw,<br /> +What’s <em>Conscience</em>?—he is safe from <em>Law</em>—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +The closest Union can divide,<br /> +Take Husbands from their Spouses’ side,<br /> +But it turns out to better Use,<br /> +Wives from their Husbands to seduce;<br /> +And as their Journey lies <em>up-Hill</em>,<br /> +Ev’ry Incumbrance were an Ill;<br /> +And lest their Speed shou’d be withstood,<br /> +He takes their <em>Money</em>—<em>for their Good</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Such is the Agent <em>Satan</em> chose,<br /> +<em>Religion</em>’s Progress to oppose—<br /> +Too great the Task for <em>one</em> was thought,<br /> +And <em>under-Agents</em> must be sought—<br /> +On this high Enterprize intent,<br /> +A troop of <em>evil Sprites</em> he sent,<br /> +Commission’d, wheresoe’er they found<br /> +<em>Hearts hollow, rotten, and unsound</em>,<br /> +Within those Breasts accurs’d to dwell,<br /> +Teaching the Liturgy of <em>Hell</em>.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +Big with the Charge th’ infernal Crew<br /> +To their belov’d Appointment flew;<br /> +With busy search thro’ ev’ry Class,<br /> +Thro’ ev’ry Rank of Men they pass,<br /> +In ev’ry Class of Men they find<br /> +Some <em>Hearts</em> corrupted to their Mind,<br /> +Ev’ry Profession they explore,<br /> +Ev’ry Profession gives them more;<br /> +The higher Functions ransack’d, now<br /> +Each vulgar Trade, each sweaty Brow<br /> +Is search’d, and in them all were found,<br /> +<em>Some hollow, rotten, and unsound</em>.<br /> +In each depraved Bosom dwell<br /> +These <em>Sprites</em>, nor miss their native <em>Hell</em>.<br /> +Hence ev’ry Blockhead, Knave, and Dunce,<br /> +Start into Preachers all at once.<br /> +Hence Ignorance of ev’ry size,<br /> +Of ev’ry shape Wit can devise,<br /> +Altho’ so dull it hardly knows,<br /> +Which are its Fingers, which its Toes,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +Which is the left Hand, which the Right,<br /> +When it is Day, or when ’tis Night,<br /> +Shall yet pretend to keep the Key<br /> +Of <em>God</em>’s dark Secrets, and display<br /> +His <em>hidden Mysteries</em>, as free<br /> +As if <em>God</em>’s <em>privy Council</em> He,<br /> +Shall to his Presence rush, and dare<br /> +To raise a <em>pious Riot</em> there.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Lawyers</em> (a Commutation strange!)<br /> +<em>Coke Littleton</em> for <em>Bible</em> change;<br /> +Quit their beloved wrangling <em>Hall</em>,<br /> +More loudly in a <em>Church</em> to bawl:<br /> +<em>Statutes at large</em> are thrown aside,<br /> +And now the <em>Testament</em>’s their guide;<br /> +And full as fervent, on their Knees,<br /> +For <em>Heav’n</em> they pray, as once for <em>Fees</em>;<br /> +<em>Plaintiff</em>, <em>Defendant</em>, and <em>my Lord</em>,<br /> +Are banish’d, and now <em>Faith</em>’s the Word,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +Of <em>Briefs</em> no longer now they dream,<br /> +<em>Religion</em> is the only Theme.<br /> +The <em>Physic-Tribe</em> their Art resign,<br /> +And lose the <em>Quack</em> in the <em>Divine</em>;<br /> +<em>Galen</em> lies on the Shelf unread,<br /> +A <em>Pray’r-Book</em> open in its stead;<br /> +<em>Salvation</em> now is all the <em>Cant</em>,<br /> +<em>Salvation</em> is the <em>only</em> Want.<br /> +“<em>Throw Physic to the Dogs</em>,” they cry,<br /> +’Twill never bring you to the Sky.<br /> +Of a <em>New-birth</em> they prate, and prate<br /> +While <em>Midwifry</em> is out of Date;<br /> +Let Fevers, Agues, take their turn,<br /> +To freeze the Patient, or to burn,<br /> +In vain he seeks the Physic Tribe,<br /> +No <em>Recipe</em> will they prescribe,<br /> +But what is sovereign to controul<br /> +The Maladies that hurt the Soul.<br /> +And tho’ while <em>Body-quacks</em>, with <em>Pill</em><br /> +Or <em>Bolus</em>, ’twas their Trade to kill,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +More miserably still, alack!<br /> +For the <em>diseased Soul</em> they <em>quack</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +The <em>Sons of War</em> sometimes are known<br /> +To fight with Weapons not their own,<br /> +Ceasing the <em>Sword of Steel</em> to wield,<br /> +They take <em>Religion</em>’s <em>Sword and Shield</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Ev’ry <em>Mechanic</em> will commence<br /> +<em>Orator</em>, without <em>Mood</em> or <em>Tense</em>.<br /> +<em>Pudding</em> is <em>Pudding</em> still, they know,<br /> +Whether it has a Plumb or no;<br /> +So, tho’ the Preacher has no skill,<br /> +A <em>Sermon</em> is a <em>Sermon</em> still.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +The <em>Bricklay’r</em> throws his <em>Trowel</em> by,<br /> +And now <em>builds Mansions in the Sky</em>;<br /> +The <em>Cobbler</em>, touch’d with <em>holy Pride</em>,<br /> +Flings his <em>old Shoes</em>, and <em>Last</em> aside,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +And now devoutly sets about<br /> +Cobbling of <em>Souls</em> that <em>ne’er wear out</em>;<br /> +The <em>Baker</em>, now a <em>Preacher</em> grown,<br /> +Finds Man <em>lives not by Bread alone</em>,<br /> +And now his Customers he feeds<br /> +With <em>Pray’rs</em>, with <em>Sermons</em>, <em>Groans</em> and <em>Creeds</em>;<br /> +The <em>Tinman</em>, mov’d by Warmth within,<br /> +<em>Hammers</em> the <em>Gospel</em>, just like <em>Tin</em>;<br /> +<em>Weavers inspir’d</em> their <em>Shuttles</em> leave,<br /> +<em>Sermons</em>, and <em>flimsy Hymns</em> to weave;<br /> +<em>Barbers</em> unreap’d will leave the Chin,<br /> +To trim, and shave the <em>Man within</em>;<br /> +The <em>Waterman</em> forgets his <em>Wherry</em>,<br /> +And opens a <em>celestial Ferry</em>;<br /> +The <em>Brewer</em>, bit by Phrenzy’s Grub,<br /> +The <em>Mashing</em> for the <em>Preaching Tub</em><br /> +Resigns, <em>those Waters</em> to explore,<br /> +Which if You drink, you <em>thirst no more</em>;<br /> +The <em>Gard’ner</em>, weary of his Trade,<br /> +Tir’d of the Mattock, and the Spade,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +Chang’d to <em>Apollos</em> in a Trice,<br /> +<em>Waters</em> the <em>Plants of Paradise</em>;<br /> +The <em>Fishermen</em> no longer set<br /> +For <em>Fish</em> the Meshes of their Net,<br /> +But catch, like <em>Peter</em>, <em>Men of Sin</em>,<br /> +For <em>catching</em> is to <em>take them in</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Well had the wand’ring Spirits sped,<br /> +And thro’ the World their Poison spread,<br /> +Made Lodgments in each tainted Breast;<br /> +And each infected Heart possess’d.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +The <em>wayward Bus’ness</em> being done,<br /> +<em>Satan</em> to make his Choice begun<br /> +Of <em>under-Ministers</em>, to do<br /> +What <em>One</em> cou’d not be equal to.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +A <em>second Agent</em>, like the first,<br /> +Who on <em>Dæmoniac Milk</em> was nurst,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +Had <em>Moorfields</em> trusted to his Care,<br /> +For <em>Satan</em> keeps <em>an Office</em> there.<br /> +<em>Lean</em> is the <em>Saint</em>, and <em>lank</em>, to shew<br /> +That <em>Flesh and Blood to Heav’n can’t go</em>;<br /> +His Hair like <em>Candles</em> hangs, a sign<br /> +How bright his <em>inward Candles</em> shine.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Of <em>Satan</em>’s <em>Agents</em> these <em>the Chief</em>,<br /> +A thousand others lend Relief,<br /> +And take some labour off their Hands,<br /> +Each as th’ <em>internal Sprite</em> commands:<br /> +But working with a <em>diff’rent Spell</em>,<br /> +They lead by various Ways to <em>Hell</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Sickens the Soul? and is its state<br /> +With <em>Sin</em>’s Disease grown desperate?<br /> +To divers Quacks you may apply,<br /> +And <em>special Nostrums</em> of them buy.<br /> +<em>Tottenham</em>’s the best accustom’d Place,<br /> +There <em>Magus squints</em> Men into <em>Grace</em>.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +<em>W-s—y</em> sells Powders, Draughts, and Pills,<br /> +Sov’reign against all sorts of Ills,<br /> +<em>Assurance</em> charms away the Fit,<br /> +Or at least makes it intermit—<br /> +<em>M-d—n</em> the springs of Health <em>unlocks</em>,<br /> +And by his Preaching cures the <em>P——</em><br /> +<em>R-m—ne</em> works greater Wonders still,<br /> +Pulls you by <em>Gravity up-Hill</em>,<br /> +And for whate’er you do <em>amiss</em>,<br /> +Rewards you with <em>celestial Bliss</em>;<br /> +By your <em>bad Deeds</em> your <em>Faith</em> you shew,<br /> +’Tis but <em>believe</em>, and <em>up You go</em>.<br /> +<em>B—rr—s</em> and <em>W-r—r</em> set up Shop,<br /> +To sell <em>Religion</em>’s <em>Pill and Drop</em>,<br /> +They teach their Patients how to fly<br /> +On <em>Voice</em> and <em>Action</em> to the Sky.<br /> +One of the <em>Magi of the East</em>,<br /> +A <em>little perking, puppet-Priest</em>,<br /> +Has got the <em>Harlequino</em>-way,<br /> +His Patients Heav’nward to convey;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +And their Salvation to advance,<br /> +A <em>Jig</em> will <em>at the Altar dance</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Such were the <em>Plenipo</em>’s in <em>Town</em>,<br /> +Who serv’d the <em>Diabolic</em> Crown.<br /> +Not far remov’d, a <em>female Friend</em><br /> +Gave Proofs, that <em>Satan</em> might depend<br /> +On her best Service, and support,<br /> +For what serv’d him, to her was Sport.<br /> +<em>H——</em>, cloy’d with <em>carnal</em> Bliss,<br /> +Longing to taste how <em>Spirits</em> kiss,<br /> +Bids <em>Chapels</em> for her <em>Saints</em> arise,<br /> +Which are but <em>Bagnios</em> in Disguise;<br /> +Where She may suck her <em>T——</em>’s Breath,<br /> +Expiring in <em>seraphic</em> Death.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +That <em>Satan</em> better might succeed,<br /> +Of <em>other Agents</em> he had need,<br /> +His <em>Country-Int’rest</em> to support,<br /> +While <em>Dodd</em> was <em>preaching</em> to the Court.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +The Town was left, and now his Flight<br /> +Bore to the <em>North</em> the horrid <em>Sprite</em>;<br /> +Now had he travers’d many a League,<br /> +And felt, as <em>Spirits</em> feel, Fatigue,<br /> +When, in a dark, romantic Wood,<br /> +In which an antique Mansion stood,<br /> +He spied, close to a Hovel-door,<br /> +A <em>Saint</em> conversing with his <em>Whore</em>.<br /> +Double he seem’d, and worn with Age,<br /> +Little adapted to engage<br /> +In <em>Love</em>’s hot War, too dry his Trunk<br /> +To cope with a lascivious Punk;<br /> +So humble too he seem’d, You’d swear,<br /> +<em>Humility</em> herself was there;<br /> +So like a <em>Sawyer</em> too he <em>bows</em>,<br /> +You’d think that he was <em>Meekness’</em> Spouse;<br /> +But <em>Satan</em> read his <em>Visage-lines</em>,<br /> +And found some favourable Signs,<br /> +That this <em>meek Saint</em> might, <em>in the Dark</em>,<br /> +Make his <em>Infernalship</em> a <em>Clerk</em>;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +Tho’ muffled in <em>Religion</em>’s Cloak<br /> +So close, that it might almost choak<br /> +A <em>Pharisee</em>, it might be still<br /> +Only a <em>Cloak</em> to doff at Will;<br /> +His <em>Speech</em> might be an acted Part,<br /> +A Language foreign to his <em>Heart</em>.<br /> +He knew, that tho’ upon his <em>Tongue</em>,<br /> +<em>Religion</em>, a mere <em>Cant-word</em>, hung,<br /> +He might forget it in his <em>Work</em>,<br /> +And be at <em>Heart</em> a very <em>Turk</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Finesse</em> and <em>Trick</em> wou’d ne’er succeed,<br /> +If Men wou’d only learn to read,<br /> +To read the Lines of <em>Nature</em>’s Pen,<br /> +Drawn in the <em>Countenance of Men</em>,<br /> +Where Truth speaks out distinct and clear,<br /> +If we had but the Trick to hear.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +So far’d it with <em>our Saint</em>, while He<br /> +Wou’d seem downright <em>Humility</em>,<br /> +Some honest Features cry’d aloud,<br /> +“Our Master is of Spirit proud.”<br /> +Pass him with Bonnet on, his Lip<br /> +Will hang as low as to his Hip;<br /> +His bloated Eye its Venom darts,<br /> +And from its gloomy Socket starts;<br /> +And if the <em>Body</em>’s frame we scan,<br /> +He cannot be an <em>upright Man</em>.<br /> +And there are Proofs, from which we see<br /> +His <em>Body</em> and his <em>Soul</em> agree.<br /> +Altho’ he is as fond of <em>Pray’rs</em>,<br /> +As Country Girls of Country Fairs;<br /> +Yet shou’d he in the Church-yard spy<br /> +Some <em>tempting Wanton</em> passing by,<br /> +E’en at the Moment that his Knee<br /> +Is bent in Sign of <em>Piety</em>,<br /> +Quick his <em>Devotion</em> leaves the <em>Heart</em>,<br /> +And settles in some <em>other Part</em>;<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +The Book of <em>Pray’r</em> is shut, and <em>Heav’n</em><br /> +For the dear Charms of <em>Cœlia</em> giv’n.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Th’ <em>Arch-Fiend</em> this <em>saintly Sinner</em> spied,<br /> +And with malicious Pleasure ey’d,<br /> +Well pleas’d to think that he had found<br /> +Such a <em>Hell-Factor</em> above Ground;<br /> +And thus began th’ infernal Sprite—<br /> +“<em>Libidinoso!</em> if I’m right!<br /> +Art thou that Son of mine on Earth,<br /> +Whose deeds so loud proclaim thy Birth?<br /> +Of whom so many Strumpets tell<br /> +Such Tales as get Thee Fame in <em>Hell</em>?<br /> +But Children know not whence they spring,<br /> +Whether by Beggar got, or King;<br /> +Yet I by <em>certain Marks</em> can know,<br /> +Whether Thou art <em>my Child</em>, or no.<br /> +Uncase—and let me see your Waist—<br /> +For there are private Tokens plac’d,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +By which <em>my own</em> I know—if there<br /> +No secret Lines of mine appear,<br /> +I claim Thee not—but if I see<br /> +The two <em>Initials</em> <em>F</em> and <em>P</em>,<br /> +Then art Thou <em>mine</em>—nay, never start—<br /> +And <em>Heav’n</em> can claim <em>in Thee</em> no Part”—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +And now his sapless Trunk he stripp’d,<br /> +Like Culprits sentenc’d to be whipp’d,<br /> +When lo! th’ <em>Initials</em> rose to View,<br /> +And prov’d the Fiend’s Conjecture true.<br /> +And all his Waist (detested Brand!)<br /> +Was scribbled with the <em>Dev’l’s short Hand</em>;<br /> +Was mark’d with <em>Whoredom</em>, <em>Lust</em>, and <em>Letchery</em>,<br /> +<em>Malice</em>, <em>Hypocrisy</em>, and <em>Treachery</em>,<br /> +With <em>Envy</em>, <em>Lying</em>, and <em>Betraying</em>,<br /> +With <em>Fasting</em>, <em>Wenching</em>, <em>Fiddling</em>, <em>Praying</em>,<br /> +And all the <em>Catalogue of Sin</em><br /> +Deeply engraven in his Skin—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +Pleas’d the <em>grim Pow’r</em> survey’d, and smil’d,<br /> +Embrac’d and said—“My darling Child,<br /> +Blest was the Hour, and blest the Spot,<br /> +Where Thou, <em>my ’Bidin</em>, wert begot.<br /> +Know then, you’re not what You profess,<br /> +Her Son, whose Lands you do possess;<br /> +No—Thou’rt <em>my wayward Son</em>, a Witch<br /> +Litter’d thee in a loathsome Ditch;<br /> +And (for all Creatures love the Young<br /> +Which from their proper Loins are sprung)<br /> +To this old Mansion thee convey’d,<br /> +And in an Infant’s Cradle laid:<br /> +And when the <em>Sorc’ress</em> plac’d thee there,<br /> +She stole away the <em>native Heir</em>—<br /> +Right well hast Thou, my Boy, repaid<br /> +The <em>Obligations</em> on thee laid,<br /> +And to thy Parents’ Int’rest true<br /> +Hast prov’d thy Fortunes were thy due—<br /> +Go on—and, if thou canst, do more<br /> +(But ’t may not be) than heretofore—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +Keep the same Path You always trod,<br /> +And be an Enemy to <em>God</em>;<br /> +Apply your Fortune to oppress,<br /> +And harrass <em>Virtue</em> with Distress;<br /> +To hide your Blemishes use Paint,<br /> +To screen the <em>Villain</em> play the <em>Saint</em>;<br /> +Affect <em>Religion</em>, <em>Church</em> frequent,<br /> +Kneel, <em>seem</em> to pray, and keep up <em>Lent</em>—<br /> +<em>Charity</em> too must be display’d,<br /> +But <em>Charity in Masquerade</em>;<br /> +Give <em>Alms</em>—but not to those that need,<br /> +But only for the <em>Gallows feed</em>;<br /> +Whene’er you meet a <em>preaching Thief</em>,<br /> +Be prompt to reach him out Relief;<br /> +If <em>Liars</em>, <em>Flatt’rers</em>, <em>Pandars</em>, <em>Pimps</em>,<br /> +Or any of my vagrant Imps,<br /> +Approach Thee, to thy Mansion take,<br /> +And give them Welcome for my Sake;<br /> +But <em>needy Merit</em> must not dare<br /> +To hope with these <em>thy Alms</em> to share,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +Commit <em>that</em> to the <em>Bridewell</em>-lash,<br /> +But give it neither <em>Food</em> nor <em>Cash</em>;<br /> +Distinguish’d Honour shalt thou gain<br /> +In <em>Pandæmonium</em>, for thy Pain.<br /> +But—one Word more—My Mind misgives,<br /> +That <em>Virtue</em> a near <em>Neighbour</em> lives—<br /> +For in my search to find out Thee,<br /> +I spied in this Vicinity<br /> +A Knot of Friends, where I cou’d trace<br /> +<em>Honour</em> emblazon’d in their Face,<br /> +These (for their Thoughts I plainly see)<br /> +Bear no good Will to you or me;<br /> +<em>Foolishly honest</em>, cheap they hold<br /> +<em>Libidinoso</em> and his Gold,<br /> +And will maintain, to Conscience true,<br /> +Their Virtue, spite of Me and You.<br /> +Altho’ your Influence be weak,<br /> +Oppose them for <em>opposing’ Sake</em>,<br /> +Do ev’ry little Act of Spite,<br /> +And snarl, altho’ You cannot bite—<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +Be faithful—there will come a Day,<br /> +When I thy Services will pay,<br /> +Will bring Thee to my Realm, and make<br /> +Thee <em>Pilot of the burning Lake</em>.”</p> + +<p class="poem"> +He said—and quick as Thought withdrew,<br /> +And to th’ infernal Regions flew;<br /> +Blue sulph’rous streaks the Peasants scare,<br /> +Marking his passage thro’ the Air—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<em>Libidinoso</em> left behind,<br /> +Began revolving in his Mind<br /> +His Master’s Promises, and sigh’d<br /> +To have them fully ratified;<br /> +Then homeward plodded, (but, be sure,<br /> +Before he went, he kiss’d his Whore)<br /> +Resolv’d, if possible, on more<br /> +And greater Evils than before.<br /> +All vain was the Resolve—his Cup<br /> +Of <em>Wickedness</em> was quite fill’d up,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +And no Cup can another drop<br /> +Contain, when fill’d up to the Top.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Since all Improvement was forbid,<br /> +What cou’d he do, but what he did?<br /> +Nought he diminish’d of the Charge,<br /> +But acts <em>Hell</em>’s Minister at large.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +A <em>Pair of Adamantine Lungs</em>,<br /> +A <em>Throat of Brass</em>, <em>Fame’s hundred Tongues</em>,<br /> +Time out of Mind have been confest,<br /> +By <em>fifty Poets</em>, at the least,<br /> +Too little to count <em>Hybla’s Bees</em>,<br /> +The <em>Leaves that cloathe the Forest-Trees</em>;<br /> +The <em>Sands that broider Neptune’s Side</em>,<br /> +Or <em>Waves</em> that on his Bosom ride;<br /> +The <em>Grains</em> which rich <em>Sicilia</em> yields,<br /> +The <em>Blades</em> with which <em>Spring</em> robes the Fields;<br /> +The <em>Stars</em> which twinkling on the sight<br /> +<em>Jove</em>’s <em>Threshold</em> make so glorious bright:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +Or (if we may annex to these<br /> +<em>Modern Impossibilities</em>)<br /> +To reckon up the sum of <em>Knaves</em><br /> +That crawl on <em>Earth</em>, or sleep in <em>Graves</em>,<br /> +To count the <em>Prudes</em> that crowd to <em>Pews</em>,<br /> +While their <em>Thoughts</em> ramble to the <em>Stews</em>,<br /> +<em>Lords</em>, whose sole Merit is their <em>Place</em>,<br /> +<em>Ladies</em>, whose Worth’s a <em>painted Face</em>,<br /> +Who find <em>my Lord</em> has lost his <em>Force</em><br /> +In <em>Love</em>, and sue for a <em>Divorce</em>;<br /> +Or to abridge, and enter down<br /> +The Names of all the <em>Fools in Town</em>;<br /> +Or number those who <em>live by Ink</em>,<br /> +And <em>write</em>, altho’ they cannot <em>think</em>;<br /> +<em>Critics</em>, who judge, but cannot read,<br /> +And <em>praise</em>, or <em>censure</em>—as they’re <em>fee’d</em>;<br /> +Or count <em>each Bard</em> by <em>Self</em> betray’d,<br /> +Who thought, when fondled by <em>his Maid</em>,<br /> +It was <em>Melpomene</em> that smil’d,<br /> +And mark’d him for her fav’rite <em>Child</em>,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +But finds the <em>Harvest</em> of his Lines,<br /> +Is to <em>fast twice</em> for <em>once he dines</em>.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +As well the <em>Muse</em> might one of these<br /> +<em>Poets’ Impossibilities</em><br /> +Assay to do, and speed as well,<br /> +As if She should attempt to tell<br /> +The <em>Names</em> and <em>Characters</em> of <em>all</em><br /> +That on the Name of <em>Satan</em> call,<br /> +That preach, and lie, and whine, and cant,<br /> +Soldiers for <em>Hell’s Church Militant</em>;<br /> +And use the Head, the Heart, the Hand,<br /> +To spread <em>its Doctrines</em> thro’ the Land.<br /> +<em>Arithmetic herself</em> were dumb,<br /> +If task’d with such an endless Sum;<br /> +Nor wou’d the <em>Muse</em>, tho’ one more Line<br /> +Wou’d all the Host of <em>Hell</em> entwine,<br /> +Bestow another drop of Ink,<br /> +To map out an <em>infernal Sink</em>—</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +Thou God of Truth and Love! excuse<br /> +The <em>honest Anger</em> of the <em>Muse</em>,<br /> +Warm in <em>thy Cause</em>, while She wou’d pray<br /> +That Thou from <em>Earth</em> wou’d’st sweep away<br /> +Such <em>rotten Saints</em>, who wou’d conceal<br /> +Their <em>Fraud</em> beneath the Name of <em>Zeal</em>!<br /> +Who, mask’d with <em>spurious Piety</em>,<br /> +Trample on <em>Reason</em>, <em>Truth</em>, and <em>Thee</em>,<br /> +And, while their hot Career they run,<br /> +Tread on the <em>Gospel</em> of thy Son!<br /> +Who, feigning to adore, make Thee<br /> +A <em>Tyrant-God</em> of Cruelty!<br /> +As if thy <em>right Hand</em> did contain<br /> +Only an Universe of Pain,<br /> +<em>Hell</em> and <em>Damnation</em> in thy <em>Left</em>,<br /> +Of ev’ry gracious Gift bereft,<br /> +Hence raining Floods of Grief and Woes,<br /> +On those that never were thy Foes,<br /> +Ordaining Torments for the doom<br /> +Of Infants, yet within the Womb:<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +By fifty false Devices more,<br /> +Which <em>Reason</em> never heard before,<br /> +And <em>Methodists</em> alone cou’d dream,<br /> +Thy boundless <em>Goodness</em> they blaspheme!<br /> +Who (tho’ our <em>Saviour</em>’s gracious Plan<br /> +Was to teach Happiness to Man,<br /> +By <em>friendly Arguments</em> to win<br /> +The World from Slavery to Sin;<br /> +For He, who all Things knows, well knew,<br /> +That they to Duty are more true,<br /> +Who from a <em>filial Love</em> obey,<br /> +And serve for <em>Gratitude</em>, than they<br /> +Who from a <em>coward Dread of Law</em><br /> +Owe all their <em>Virtue</em> to their <em>Awe</em>;<br /> +Who, tho’ they seem so true, and just,<br /> +So strictly faithful to their Trust,<br /> +Will, if you take the <em>Gallows</em> down,<br /> +Out-pilfer half the <em>Rogues</em> in <em>Town</em>).<br /> +With saucy boldness will presume<br /> +To pass th’ impenetrable gloom,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +And lift the Curtain which we see<br /> +Is drawn betwixt the World and Thee;<br /> +Of nought but endless Torments speak,<br /> +To frighten and appall the weak;<br /> +Dwell on the horrid Theme with glee,<br /> +And fain themselves wou’d <em>Hangmen</em> be;<br /> +With so much <em>Dread</em> their <em>Hearers</em> fill,<br /> +That they have neither <em>Pow’r</em>, nor <em>Will</em>,<br /> +Tho’ <em>Heav’n</em>’s the Prize, to move a Hand,<br /> +But <em>shuddering</em> and <em>trembling</em> stand.</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Quench the hot Flame, O God, that burns,<br /> +And <em>Piety</em> to <em>Phrenzy</em> turns!<br /> +Let not thy <em>holy Name</em> be made<br /> +A <em>Cloak</em> to hide a <em>pilf’ring Trade</em>!<br /> +Nor suffer that thy <em>sacred Word</em>,<br /> +Be turn’d to <em>Rhapsody absurd</em>!<br /> +Let it not serve, like <em>Magic Sticks</em>,<br /> +To preface <em>pious Jugglers’</em> Tricks!<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +Root, root from <em>Earth</em>, these baneful weeds,<br /> +That choak <em>Religion</em>’s <em>wholesome Seeds</em>!<br /> +Give them the headlong Winds to bear,<br /> +And scatter in a desart Air!<br /> +Grind them to Powder, that no more<br /> +They sprout and grow as heretofore!<br /> +Burn the rank stalks, and let the flame<br /> +Thy Garden’s hot luxuriance tame,<br /> +Nor let it Flow’r, or Plant produce,<br /> +But what yields <em>Ornament</em> or <em>Use</em>!</p> + +<p class="poem"> +But soft—my <em>Muse</em>! thy Breath recall—<br /> +Turn not <em>Religion</em>’s Milk to Gall!<br /> +Let not thy <em>Zeal</em> within thee nurse<br /> +A <em>holy Rage</em>, or <em>pious Curse</em>!<br /> +Far other is the <em>heav’nly Plan</em>,<br /> +Which the <em>Redeemer</em> gave to Man,<br /> +Who taught the World in Peace to live,<br /> +And e’en <em>our Enemies</em> forgive!</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +Live then, <em>ye Wretches</em>! to declare,<br /> +How long <em>our God</em> with Men <em>can bear</em>!<br /> +A living Monument to be<br /> +Of the <em>Almighty</em>’s Clemency!<br /> +Who still is good, altho’ You preach<br /> +Yourselves almost ’bove <em>Mercy</em>’s reach;<br /> +And, tho’ his goodness You resist,<br /> +Can even spare a <em>Methodist</em>.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: .8em; font-size: 1.3em;"> +F I N I S<span style="margin-left: -.5em;">.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> +<h2>WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK</h2> + +<h2>MEMORIAL LIBRARY</h2> + +<h3>UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 108px;"> +<img src="images/img073.png" width="108" height="62" alt="decoration" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<h1><span class="smcap">The Augustan Reprint Society</span></h1> + +<h4>PUBLICATIONS IN PRINT</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><span class="smcap">The Augustan Reprint Society</span></h1> + +<h4>PUBLICATIONS IN PRINT</h4> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 108px;"> +<img src="images/img073.png" width="108" height="62" alt="decoration" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1948-1949</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>16.</td> <td align='left'>Henry Nevil Payne, <em>The Fatal Jealousie</em> (1673).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>17.</td> <td align='left'>Nicholas Rowe, <em>Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespear</em> (1709).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>18.</td> <td align='left'>Anonymous, “Of Genius,” in <em>The Occasional Paper</em>, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719), </td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'>and Aaron Hill, Preface to <em>The Creation</em> (1720).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1949-1950</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>19.</td> <td align='left'>Susanna Centlivre, <em>The Busie Body</em> (1709).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>20.</td> <td align='left'>Lewis Theobald, <em>Preface to the Works of Shakespeare</em> (1734).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>22.</td> <td align='left'>Samuel Johnson, <em>The Vanity of Human Wishes</em> (1749), and two <em>Rambler</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'> papers (1750).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>23.</td> <td align='left'>John Dryden, <em>His Majesties Declaration Defended</em> (1681).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1951-1952</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>26.</td> <td align='left'>Charles Macklin, <em>The Man of the World</em> (1792).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>31.</td> <td align='left'>Thomas Gray, <em>An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard</em> (1751), and <em>The</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Eton College Manuscript</em>.</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1952-1953</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>41.</td> <td align='left'>Bernard Mandeville, <em>A Letter to Dion</em> (1732).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1962-1963</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>98.</td> <td align='left'>Selected Hymns Taken Out of Mr. Herbert’s <em>Temple</em> (1697).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1964-1965</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>109.</td> <td align='left'>Sir William Temple, <em>An Essay Upon the Original and Nature of Government</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'>(1680).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>110.</td> <td align='left'>John Tutchin, <em>Selected Poems</em> (1685-1700).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>111.</td> <td align='left'>Anonymous, <em>Political Justice</em> (1736).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>112.</td> <td align='left'>Robert Dodsley, <em>An Essay on Fable</em> (1764).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>113.</td> <td align='left'>T. R., <em>An Essay Concerning Critical and Curious Learning</em> (1698).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>114.</td> <td align='left'><em>Two Poems Against Pope</em>: Leonard Welsted, <em>One Epistle to Mr. A. Pope</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'>(1730), and Anonymous, <em>The Blatant Beast</em> (1742).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1965-1966</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>115.</td> <td align='left'>Daniel Defoe and others, <em>Accounts of the Apparition of Mrs. Veal</em>.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>116.</td> <td align='left'>Charles Macklin, <em>The Covent Garden Theatre</em> (1752).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>117.</td> <td align='left'>Sir Roger L’Estrange, <em>Citt and Bumpkin</em> (1680).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>118.</td> <td align='left'>Henry More, <em>Enthusiasmus Triumphatus</em> (1662).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>119.</td> <td align='left'>Thomas Traherne, <em>Meditations on the Six Days of the Creation</em> (1717).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>120.</td> <td align='left'>Bernard Mandeville, <em>Aesop Dress’d or a Collection of Fables</em> (1740).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1966-1967</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>123.</td> <td align='left'>Edmond Malone, <em>Cursory Observations on the Poems Attributed to</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Mr. Thomas Rowley</em> (1782).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>124.</td> <td align='left'>Anonymous, <em>The Female Wits</em> (1704).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>125.</td> <td align='left'>Anonymous, <em>The Scribleriad</em> (1742). Lord Hervey, <em>The Difference</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Between Verbal and Practical Virtue</em> (1742).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1967-1968</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>129.</td> <td align='left'>Lawrence Echard, Prefaces to <em>Terence’s Comedies</em> (1694) and <em>Plautus’s</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Comedies</em> (1694).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>130.</td> <td align='left'>Henry More, <em>Democritus Platonissans</em> (1646).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>132.</td> <td align='left'>Walter Harte, <em>An Essay on Satire, Particularly on the Dunciad</em> (1730).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1968-1969</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>133.</td> <td align='left'>John Courtenay, <em>A Poetical Review of the Literary and Moral Character</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>of the Late Samuel Johnson</em> (1786).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>134.</td> <td align='left'>John Downes, <em>Roscius Anglicanus</em> (1708).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>135.</td> <td align='left'>Sir John Hill, <em>Hypochondriasis, a Practical Treatise</em> (1766).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>136.</td> <td align='left'>Thomas Sheridan, <em>Discourse ... Being Introductory to His Course of</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Lectures on Elocution and the English Language</em> (1759).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>137.</td> <td align='left'>Arthur Murphy, <em>The Englishman From Paris</em> (1736).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1969-1970</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>138.</td> <td align='left'>[Catherine Trotter], <em>Olinda’s Adventures</em> (1718).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>139.</td> <td align='left'>John Ogilvie, <em>An Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients</em> (1762).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>140.</td> <td align='left'><em>A Learned Dissertation on Dumpling</em> (1726) and <em>Pudding Burnt to Pot</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>or a Compleat Key to the Dissertation on Dumpling</em> (1727).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>141.</td> <td align='left'>Selections from Sir Roger L’Estrange’s <em>Observator</em> (1681-1687).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>142.</td> <td align='left'>Anthony Collins, <em>A Discourse Concerning Ridicule and Irony in Writing</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'>(1729).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>143.</td> <td align='left'><em>A Letter From A Clergyman to His Friend, With An Account of the</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver</em> (1726).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>144.</td> <td align='left'><em>The Art of Architecture, A Poem. In Imitation of Horace’s Art of Poetry</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'>(1742).</td> </tr> + +<tr> <th colspan="2">1970-1971</th> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>145-146.</td> <td align='left'>Thomas Shelton, <em>A Tutor to Tachygraphy, or Short-writing</em> (1642) and</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Tachygraphy</em> (1647).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>147-148.</td> <td align='left'><em>Deformities of Dr. Samuel Johnson</em> (1782).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>149.</td> <td align='left'><em>Poeta de Tristibus: or, the Poet’s Complaint</em> (1682).</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'>150.</td> <td align='left'>Gerard Langbaine, <em>Momus Triumphans: or, the Plagiaries of the English</em></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='right'></td> <td align='left'><em>Stage</em> (1687).</td> </tr> + +</table></div> + + +<p>Publications of the first fifteen years of the Society (numbers 1-90) are +available in paperbound units of six issues at $16.00 per unit, from the +Kraus Reprint Company, 16 East 46th Street, New York, N.Y. 10017.</p> + +<p>Publications in print are available at the regular membership rate of +$5.00 for individuals and $8.00 for institutions per year. 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