A Judge is juft, a Chanc'lor jufter ftill;
A Gownman, learn'd; a Bishop, what you will;
Wife, if a Minifter; but, if a King,

More wife, more learn'd, more juft, more ev'ry
thing.
Court-Virtues bear, like Gems, the highest rate,
Born where Heav'n's influence scarce can penetrate.
IBID. p. 118.

FALLACY OF JUDGMENT.
JUDGE we by Nature? Habit can efface,
Int'reft o'ercome, or Policy take place:
By Actions? thofe Uncertainty divides:
By Paffions? these Diffimulation hides:
Opinions? they ftill take a wider range:
Find, if you can, in what you cannot change.

Manners with Fortunes, Humours turn with Climes,

Tenets with Books, and Principles with Times.

The Wild are conftant, and the Cunning known;
The Fool confiftent, and the Falfe fincere ;
Priefts, Princes, Women, no diffemblers here.
This clue once found, unravels all the rest,
The profpect elears, and Wharton ftands confeft;

Wharton,

Wharton, the fcorn and wonder of our days,
Whofe ruling Paffion was the Luft of Praife:
Born with whate'er could win it from the Wife,
Women and Fools muft like him, or he dies: ›
Though wond'ring Senates hung on all he spoke,
The Club muft hail him master of the joke.
Shall parts fo various aim at nothing new?
He'll fhine a Tully and a Wilmot too :'
Then turns repentant, and his God adores
With the fame spirit that he drinks and whores;
Enough if all around him but admire,

And now the Punk applaud, and now the Frier.
Thus with each gift of nature and of art,
And wanting nothing but an honest heart';
Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt;
And most contemptible, to fhun contempt;
His Paffion ftill, to covet gen'ral praise;
His Life, to forfeit it a thousand ways;
A conftant Bounty which no friend has made;
An Angel Tongue, which no man can perfuade;
A Fool, with more of wit than half mankind,
Too rash for Thought, for Action too refin'd:
A Tyrant to the wife his heart approves ;
A Rebel to the very king he loves;

He dies, fad outcaft of each church and ftate,
And, harder ftill! flagitious, yet not great.
Afk you why Wharton broke through ev'ry rule?
"Twas all for fear the Knaves fhould call him Fool.

The frugal Crone, whom praying priests attend, Still ftrives to fave the hallow'd taper's end, Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires, For one puff more, and in that puff expires.

"Odious! in woollen ! 'twould a faint provoke," (Were the last words that poor Narciffa Spoke) "No, let a charming Chintz, and Bruffels lace, "Wrap my cold limbs, and fhade my lifelefs face: "One would not, fure, be frightful when one's "dead

"And-Betty-give this Cheek a little Red."

The Courtier smooth, who forty years had fhin'd An humble fervant to all human-kind,

Juft brought out this, when scarce his tongue could ftir,

"If where I'm going-I could ferve you, Sir?”

"I give and I devife (old Euclio faid,

66

And figh'd) my lands and tenements to Ned." Your money, Sir?" My money, Sir? what all? "Why-if I must-(then wept)—I give it Paul.” The manor, Sir?" The manor! hold," he cry'd, Not that I cannot part with that"-and dy'd.

And you! brave Cobham, to the latest breath, Shall feel your ruling paffion ftrong in death: Such in those moments as in all the past,

"Oh, fave my Country, Heav'n!" shall be your IBID. P. 123.

laft.

W O MA N.

NOTHING fó true as what you once let fall, "Moft Women have no Characters at all;" Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear,

And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.

How many pictures of one Nymph we view, All how unlike each other, all how true! Arcadia's Countefs, here, in ermin'd pride, Is, there, Paftora by a fountain fide. Here Fannia, leering on her own good man, And there, a naked Leda with a Swan. Let then the fair-one beautifully cry, In Magdalene's loofe hair and lifted eye, Or dreft in fmiles of fweet Cecilia fhine, With fimp'ring Angels, Palms, and Harps divine; Whether the Charmer finner it, or faint it, If Folly grow romantic, I muft paint it.

Come then, the colours and the ground prepare! Dip in the Rainbow, trick her off in Air;

Chufe a firm Cloud, before it fall, and in it Catch, ere the change, the Cynthia of this minute.

Rufa, whofe eye quick glancing o'er the Park, Attracts each light gay meteor of a Spark, Agrees as ill with Rufa ftudying Locke, As Sappho's diamonds with her dirty fmock; Or Sappho at her toilet's greasy task, With Sappho fragrant at an ev’ning Mask :

So

So morning Infects, that in muck begun,
Shine, buzz, and fly-blow in the fetting fun.

How foft is Silia! fearful to offend; The frail one's advocate, the weak one's friend. To her, Califta prov'd her conduct nice; And good Simplicius asks of her advice. Sudden, fhe storms! fhe raves! You tip the wink, But fpare your cenfure; Silia does not drink. All eyes may fee from what the change arofe, All eyes may fee-a Pimple on her nofe.

Papillia, wedded to her am'rous fpark,

Sighs for the fhades- How charming is a Park!"
A Park is purchas'd, but the Fair he fees
All bath'd in tears-" Oh odious, odious Trees!"

Ladies, like variegated Tulips, fhow,

"Tis to their Changes half their charms we owe; Fine by defect, and delicately weak,

Their happy Spots the nice admirer take.
'Twas thus Calypso once each heart alarm'd,
Aw'd without Virtue, without Beauty charm'd;
Her Tongue bewitch'd as oddly as her eyes,
Lefs Wit than Mimic, more a Wit than wife;
Strange graces ftill, and stranger flights fhe had,
Was just not ugly, and was just not mad;
Yet ne'er fo fure our paffion to create,

As when the touch'd the brink of all we hate.

Narciffa's