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ADDRESS VI.

The Vauxhall Proprietor to the Surrey
Magistrates.

MOST worthy Magistrates of Surrey,
Make no decision in a hurry,

And don't suppose it will imply sense,
Not to renew my Vauxhall licence;
Believe me, Sirs, if you deny it,

That you will get much censure by it.
Deny it! why? On what pretence?
Pray, what has been my great offence?
My great offence, as it is said,
Was, that I had a Masquerade.
There's one of you, I mean John B-s,
So mindful of poor people's souls,
That he's afraid they'll go astray,
If in Vauxhall, or at a play.

I hate those canting Methodists, Who think true piety consists In heaving half a dozen sighs, And turning up their frightful eyes. I hate those whinning Would-be Saints, Who're always prone to make complaints, If we indulge in harmless play, And are occasionally gay.

As Masquerades had been, I swear, At the Haymarket and elsewhere, I thought it would be very hard, Shou'd Vauxhall be of them debarr'd; The town was anxious for the sport, And the town's favour I must court. I promis'd them this entertainment, Which was not, gentlemen, for gain meant, But chiefly meant, with great propriety, To give Vauxhall some notoriety; But Mr. B-s was sore afraid, That my intended Masquerade Would be productive of great evil, And send poor sinners to the devil; Tho' Masquerades had been so common, And when did evil happen from one? Eight days before-no sooner, Sirs, This worthy gentleman demurs,

And notice then was sent to me,

The entertainment must not be

Not be !—when that my word was given-
To break one's word offendeth heaven.
Did Mr. Piety advise

His humble servant to tell lies?

His humble servant tho' knew better-
He to the public was a debtor.
The debt was honourably paid,
I gave the promis'd Masquerade;
So well the public, too, were treated,
At their request it was repeated.
Some of you, gentlemen, were present,
And saw you aught that was unpleasant?
Perceiv'd you any impropriety,

Altho' of masks a great variety?

Sirs, I defy you to tell any;

Then, since there's no offence, how can ye

Refuse my licence to renew?

A licence which I think my

due.

Consider well-for, be it known,
It is not me you'll vex alone;
Spite of the sanctity pretended,
The public will be much offended.
There may be rioting at nights
If you infringe upon their rights;

And folks will say, on each alarm,
That you have done a deal of harm.
Be therefore wise, and heed not, pray,
What the enthusiastic say,
Who would your honours gravely tell,
Vauxhall is the high road to hell.
So far tho' from a place of vice,
Vauxhall is now a Paradise-
Thus by the Public it is named-
A Paradise-for beauty famed.
You, Gentlemen, I then accost,
Not to let Paradise be løst,

But grant your licence to sell beer,

And other necessary cheer;

And, spite of B-wles and R-d H-l,

Your humble servant I'll be still.

G. B.

ADDRESS VII.

Dr. Dodd's Ghost to George Colm―n the

younger.

AH! why the ashes of the dead molest,
Which for so many years have been at rest?
To vindicate "Vagaries" was there need,
To call to mind my oft repented deed?
A deed--for which, with penitence and awe,
I underwent the sentence of the law,

And hop'd, as Heav'n and all mankind forgave,
It would have perished with me in the grave.
But no-the younger Colm-n has thought fit
To make it now the subject of his wit.

In elegant phraseology, you say,

The Rev. Dr. Dodd was hang'd one day, "For only forgery."-And then you write→→→ "For murder Hackman died," poor brother sprite! But wherefore not do justice to his ghost, And say, thro' love his senses he had lost?

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