EPISTLE,

From THOMAS HEARN, Antiquary,

To the AUTHOR of

The COMPANION to the OXFORD GUIDE, &c.

FRIEND of the mofs-grown Spire and crumb

ling Arch,

Who wont'ft at Eve to pace the long-loft Bounds
Of lonesome Ofeney! What malignant Fiend
Thy cloifter-loving Mind, from antient Lore,
Hath bafe feduc'd? Urg'd thy apoftate Pen

Το

To trench deep Wounds on Antiquaries fage,
And drag the venerable Fathers forth,
Victims to Laughter! Cruel as the Mandate
Of mitred Priests, who Baskett late enjoined
To throw afide the reverend Letters black,

And print Faft-Prayers in modern Type! At this
Leland*, and Willis, Dugdale, Tanner, Wood,
Illuftrious Names! with Camden, Aubrey, Lloyd,
Scald their old Cheeks with Tears! For once they hop'd
To feal thee for their own! And fondly deem'd
The Mufes, at thy Call, would crowding come
To deck Antiquity with Flowrets gay.

But now may Curfes every

Search attend

That feems inviting! May'ft thou pore in vain
For dubious Door-ways! May revengeful Moths
Thy Ledgers eat! May chronologic Spouts
Retain no Cypher legible! May Crypts

Lurk undifcern'd! Nor may'st thou spell the Names
Of Saints in ftoried Windows! Nor the Dates
Of Bells difcover! Nor the genuine Site
Of Abbot's Pantries! And may Godftowe veil,

Deep from thy Eyes profane, her Gothic Charms!

Names of eminent Antiquaries.

PROGRESS

THE

PROGRESS of DISCONTENT.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1746.

WH

HEN now, mature in claffic Knowledge,
The joyful Youth is fent to College,

His Father comes, a Vicar plain,

At Oxford bred

in Anna's Reign,

And thus in Form of humble Suitor,

Bowing, accosts a reverend Tutor.

"Sir, I'm a Glo'ftershire Divine,

"And this my eldest Son of nine;

66

My Wife's Ambition and my own

"Was that this Child fhould wear a Gown:

"I'll warrant that his good Behaviour "Will justify your future Favour;

"And for his Parts, to tell the Truth,

My Son's a very forward Youth;

"Has Horace all by heart-you'd wonder"And mouths out Homer's Greek like thunder. "If you'd examine-and admit him,

"A Scholarship would nicely fit him:

"That he fucceeds 'tis ten to one;

"Your Vote and Intereft, Sir!-'Tis done."

Our Pupil's Hopes, though twice defeated,
Are with a Scholarship compleated:
A Scholarship but half maintains,
And College Rules are heavy Chains:
In Garret dark he smokes and

puns,

A Prey to Difcipline and Duns;
And now intent on new Defigns,
Sighs for a Fellowship

and Fines.

When

When nine full tedious Winters past, That utmoft with is crown'd at laft:

But the rich Prize no fooner got,

Again he quarrels with his Lot:
"These Fellowships are pretty Things,
"We live indeed like petty Kings:
"But who can bear to wafte his whole Age
"Amid the Dullness of a College,

"Debarr'd the common Joys of Life,

"And that prime Blifs

-a loving Wife!

"O! what's a Table richly spread

"Without a Woman at its Head!

"Would fome fnug Benefice but fall, "Ye Feasts, ye Dinners! farewell all! "To Offices I'd bid adieu,

"Of Dean, Vice-præs, of Burfar too;

"Come Joys, that rural quiet yields,

"Come Tythes, and House, and fruitful Fields !?”

Too fond of Liberty and Ease

A Patron's Vanity to please,

Long Time he watches, and by Stealth,

Each frail Incumbent's doubtful Health;

At length

-and in his fortieth Year,

A Living drops

two hundred clear!