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[In the author's life we have mentioned the disappointment which

he experienced under the inefficient patronage of Lord Berke. ley, chiefly from the influence of his Lordship's secretary, Mr Bush. The following lines, among other satirical effusions, were the evidence of his resentment, and probably had some share in determining the earl to get rid of so untractable a dependent, by gratifying him with a living so soon as pose sible.]

When wise Lord Berkeley first came here, *

Statesmen and mob expected wonders, Nor thought to find so great a peer

Ere a week past committing blunders. Till on a day cut out by fate,

When folks came thick to make their court, Out slipt a mystery of state,

To give the town and country sport. Now enters Bush † with new state airs,

His lordship's premier minister; And who, in all profound affairs,

Is held as needful as his clyster. I With head reclining on his shoulder,

He deals and hears mysterious chat,

* To Ireland, as one of the lords justices.-H,

+ Bush, by some underhand insinuation, obtained the post of secretary, which had been promised to Swift.-H.

| Always taken before my lord went to council.--H.

While every ignorant beholder

Asks of his neighbour, who is that ? With this he put up to my lord,

The courtiers kept their distance due, He twitch'd his sleeve, and stole a word ;

Then to a corner both withdrew. Imagine now my lord and Bush

Whispering in junto most profound, Like good king Phyz and good king Ush,

While all the rest stood gaping round. At length a spark, not too well bred,

Of forward face and ear acute,
Advanc'd on tiptoe, lean'd his heads

To overhear the grand dispute ;
To learn what Northern kings design,

Or from Whitehall some new express,
Papists disarm'd, or fall of coin;

For sure (thought he) it can't be less. My lord, said Bush, a friend and I,

Disguis'd in two old threadbare coats, Ere morning's dawn, stole out to spy

How markets went for hay and oats. With that he draws two handfuls out,

The one was oats, the other hay; Puts this to's excellency's snout,

And begs he would the other weigh. My lord seems pleas'd, but still directs

By all means to bring down the rates ; Then, with a congée circumflex,

Bush, smiling round on all, retreats. Our listener stood a while confus'd,

But gathering spirits, wisely ran for't, Enrag'd to see the world abus'd,

By two such whispering kings of Brentford,

* See 66 The Rehearsal.”...H.


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Did ever problem thus perplex,
Or more employ the female sex ?
So sweet a passion, who would think,
Jove ever form'd to make a stink?
The ladies vow and swear, they'll try,
Whether it be a truth or lie.
Love's fire, it seems, like inward heat,
Works in my lord by stool and sweat,
Which brings a stink from every pore,
And from behind and from before;
Yet what is wonderful to tell it,
None but the favourite nymph can smell it.
But now, to solve the natural cause
By sober philosophic laws:
Whether all passions, when in ferment,
Work out as anger does in vermin;
So, when a weasel you torment,
You find his passion by his scent.
We read of kings, who, in a fright,
Though on a throne, would fall to sh-
Beside all this, deep scholars know,
That the main string of Cupid's bow,
Once on a time was an am gut;
Now to a nobler office put,
By favour or desert preferr’d
From giving passage to a t—;

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But still, though fix'd among the stars,
Does sympathize with human a-
Thus, when you feel a hard-bound breech,
Conclude love's bowstring at full stretch,
Till the kind looseness coines, and then,
Conclude the bow relax'd again.

And now, the ladies all are bent
To try the great experiment,
Ambitious of a regent's heart,
Spread all their charms to catch a f-
Watching the first unsavoury wind,
Some ply before, and some behind.
My lord, on fire amid the dames,
F-ts like a laurel in the flames.
The fair approach the speaking part,
To try the back-way to his heart.
For, as when we a gun discharge,
Although the bore be ne'er so large,
Before the flame from muzzle burst,
Just at the breech it flashes first:
So from my lord his passion broke,
He f-d first, and then he spoke.

The ladies vanish in the smother,
To confer notes with one another;
And now they all agreed to name
Whom each one thought the happy dame.
Quoth Neal, whate'er the rest may think,
I'm sure 'twas I that smelt the stink.
You smell the stink! by G-d, you lie,
Quoth Ross, for I'll be sworn 'twas I.
Ladies, quoth Levens, pray forbear:
Let's not fall out; we all had share ;
And, by the most I can discover,
My lord's a universal lover,


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[At the siege of Namur, in 1695, Lord Cutts commanded a body

of English employed as a storming party, and displayed such cool intrepidity amidst a most tremendous fire of artillery and musquetry, that he was complimented with the name of the Salamander, as if the scene of fame and terror had been his

proper element. Swift, no admirer of military merit, and unfriendly to Lord Cutts

in particular, has employed his wit in deducing from his vices and follies, the name bestowed on 'him for his intrepid bravery.]

As mastiff dogs in modern phrase are
Call's Pompey, Scipio, and Cæsar;
As pies and daws are often styl'd
With Christian nicknames, like a child ;
As we say Monsieur to an ape,
Without offence to human shape;
So men have got, from bird and brute,
Names that would best their nature suit.
The Lion, Eagle, For, and Boar,
Were heroes titles heretofore,
Bestow'd as hieroglyphics fit
To shew their valour, strength, or wit:

* From Pliny, Nat. Hist. lib. X. C. 67. lib. xxix. C. 4, VOL. XIV.

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