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November 2, 1775. No.
564. |
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Report
traced till it vanished
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ENQUIRY,
brisk and young,
Would take the morning air,
The Park he sought, nor waited long,
Ere Rumour met him there.
Say, have you heard the
news? 5
But you no doubt have heard,
That Meanwell’s broke, and you must lose,
Lose all ’tis to be fear’d.
Indeed, the thing’s too true,
You need not make a
doubt: 10
I therefore sought in haste for you,
When I had made it out.
If true, ’tis strange indeed!
But how came you to hear?
Why Envy hinted it to
me, 15
And he is often there.
Enquiry, Envy sought,
To settle his concern:
Say, was it you the message brought?
I fain the truth would
learn. 20
’Tis true, I Rumour told,
There was a talk like this;
But whether it be true or no,
I dare not say it is.
Pray, what makes you
suspect? 25
Something you’ve heard or seen!
Something, indeed! yes, much neglect
And folly there has been.
But Freedom better knows,
Altho’ he ha’n’t told
me. 30
To Freedom next Enquiry goes,
To see how they agree.
They go aside, and talk
The matter freely o’er:
But is this all? Enquiry
said, 35
What, did you say no more?
No, this is every word,
And Thoughtless told me this:
Nay, if you doubt what I have said,
See yonder, there he
is. 40
Once more Enquiry tried
To settle all his fears.
Here, Thoughtless, here! Enquiry cried;
And Thoughtless strait appears.
Did you not Freedom
tell, 45
That things were so and so,
And that you fear’d all was not well?
He quickly answer’d—No.
Surprising! are you sure,
Quite sure that you did
not? 50
I hardly think I ever did:
I’m sure I’ve quite forgot. |
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November 9, 1775. No.
565. |
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On
PAPER
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SOME
Wit of old (such Wits of old there were)
Whose hints shew’d meaning, whose allusions care,
By one grave stroke to mark all human kind,
Call’d clear blank Paper ev’ry infant mind;
When still, as opening sense her dictates
wrote, 5
Fair Virtue put a seal, or Vice a blot.
The thought was happy,
pertinent, and true;
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue.
I—can you pardon my presumption?—I,
No wit, no genius, yet for once will
try. 10
Various the Papers various wants
produce,
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use.
Men are as various; and (if right I scan)
Each sort of Paper represents some Man.
Pray note the Fop, half powder
and half
lace, 15
Nice as a bandbox were his dwelling-place.
He’s the Gilt Paper, which apart you store,
And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutore.
Mechanics, farmers, servants,
and so forth,
Are Copy Paper of inferior
worth. 20
Less priz’d, more useful, for your desk decreed,
Free to all pens, and prompt at ev’ry need.
The wretch, whom Av’rice bids
to pinch and spare,
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, and enrich—an heir,
Is coarse Brown Paper, such as pedlars chuse 25
To wrap up wares, which better Men will use.
Take next the Miser’s
contrast, who destroys
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys.
Will any Paper match him?—Yes—throughout
He’s a true Sinking Paper, past all
doubt. 30
The retail Politician’s
anxious thought
Deems this side always right, and that stark
naught,
He foams with censure, with applause he raves,
A dupe of rumours, and a tool of knaves.
He’ll want no type his weakness to
proclaim, 35
While such a thing as Fool’s-Cap has a name.
The hasty Gentleman, whose blood
runs high,
Who picks a quarrel if you step awry,
Who can’t a jest, or hint, or look endure;
What is he?—What—Touch-Paper to be
sure. 40
What are our poets, take ’em
as they fall,
Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all?
Them and their works in the same class you’ll find,
They are—the mere Waste-paper of mankind.
Observe the Maiden, innocently
sweet! 45
She’s fair White-paper, an unsully’d sheet,
On which the happy man, whom fate ordains,
May write his name, and take her for his pains.
One instance more, and only one
I'll bring,
’Tis—the great man, who scorns a little
thing, 50
Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his own,
Form’d on the feelings of his heart alone;
True genuine Royal Paper is his breast,
Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. |
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November 16, 1775. No.
566. |
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The
DOG and the SHADOW.
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As Jowler, having
snatch’d a chop
From off a careless butcher’s shop,
Was hurrying to a safe retreat,
To ’scape the stick, and save the meat,
And cross the river took his
way, 5
At leisure to enjoy his prey;
The glassy surface of the stream
Reflected both his bone and him.
Jowler, who first believ’d his eyes,
Thought it another real
prize, 10
And that another dog convey’d it,
(For who but would his eye-sight credit?)
But when, on more mature inspection,
He found it was his own reflection,
Which just approach’d as much as he
did, 15
And, as he started back, receded;
No, no, (said he) false rival, prithee
Be gone, and take thy mutton with thee,
My instinct teaches me to save
The prize that lucky fortune
gave; 20
Nor forfeit my substantial seizure
In dabbling for ideal pleasure.
Let Jowler’s prudence be your
lesson
To value well your own
possession;
Nor let your caution be betray’d 25
To quit solidity for shade. |
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November 30, 1775. No.
568. |
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The APE
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LORD!
what a despicable taste
’Mongst odious woods one’s days to waste,
With brutes of savage life to throng,
Secluded from the true bon ton!
Exclaim’d an Ape—Shall I a
creature 5
Expressly of man’s shape and feature,
’Mongst beasts conceal my talent here,
And move in such a vulgar sphere?
What! linger here!—’tis quite insanity—
Drop my pretentions to
humanity! 10
No—let me swift the forests quit,
In town display my parts and wit.
Ne’er will I see these woods again,
I shall enjoy myself with men;
For they like Apes are form’d and siz’d, 15
And are almost as civiliz’d.—
To town the silly coxcomb hied,
But soon repented of his pride,
Was caught, confin’d, and chain’d a slave,
The scoff of ev’ry witty
knave. 20
This moral tale the man defends,
Who from his equals picks his
friends.
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