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The Works of Mr. John Oldham

Together with his Remains

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A SATYR.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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137

A SATYR.

Addressed to a Friend, that is about to leave the University, and come abroad in the World.

If you're so out of love with Happiness,
To quit a College life, and learned ease;
Convince me first, and some good Reasons give,
What methods and designs you'l take to live:
For such Resolves are needful in the Case,
Before you tread the worlds Mysterious Maze:
Without the Premisses in vain you'l try
To live by Systems of Philosophy:
Your Aristotle, Cartes, and Le-Grand,
And Euclid too in little stead will stand.

138

How many men of choice, and noted parts,
Well fraught with Learning, Languages, and Arts,
Designing high Preferment in their mind,
And little doubting good success to find,
With vast and tow'ring thoughts have flock'd to Town,
But to their cost soon found themselves undone,
Now to repent, and starve at leisure left,
Of miseries last Comfort, Hope bereft?
These fail'd for want of good Advice, you cry,
Because at first they fix'd on no employ:
Well then, let's draw the Prospect, and the Scene
To all advantage possibly we can:
The world lies now before you, let me hear,
What course your Judgment counsels you to steer:
Always consider'd, that your whole Estate,
And all your Fortune lies beneath your Hat:
Were you the Son of some rich Usurer,
That starv'd, and damn'd himself to make his Heir,

139

Left nought to do, but to inter the Sot,
And spend with ease what he with pains had got;
'Twere easie to advise how you might live,
Nor would there need instruction then to give:
But you, that boast of no Inheritance,
Save that small Stock, which lies within your Brains,
Learning must be your Trade, and therefore weigh
With heed, how you your Game the best may play;
Bethink your self a while, and then propose
What way of Life is fitt'st for you to choose.
If you for Orders, and a Gown design,
Consider only this, dear Friend of mine,
The Church is grown so over-stock'd of late,
That if you walk abroad, you'l hardly meet
More Porters now than Parsons in the street.
At every Corner they are forc'd to ply,
For Jobs of hawkering Divinity:
And half the number of the Sacred Herd
Are fain to strowl, and wander unpreferr'd:

140

If this, or thoughts of such a weighty Charge
Make you resolve to keep your self at large;
For want of better opportunity,
A School must your next Sanctuary be:
Go, wed some Grammar-Bridewel, and a Wife,
And there beat Greek, and Latin for your life:
With Birchen Scepter there command at will,
Greater than Busby's self, or Doctor Gill,
But who would be to the vile Drudg'ry bound
Where there so small encouragement is found?
Where you for recompence of all your pains
Shall hardly reach a common Fidler's gains?
For when you've toil'd, and labour'd all you can,
To dung, and cultivate a barren Brain:
A Dancing Master shall be better paid,
Tho he instructs the Heels, and you the Head:
To such Indulgence are kind Parents grown,
That nought costs less in Breeding than a Son:
Nor is it hard to find a Father now,
Shall more upon a Sotting-dog allow:

141

And with a freer hand reward the Care
Of training up his Spaniel, than his Heir.
Some think themselves exalted to the Sky,
If they light in some noble Family;
Diet, an Horse, and thirty pounds a year,
Besides the advantage of his Lordships ear,
The credit of the business, and the State,
Are things that in a Younster's Sense sound great.
Little the unexperienc'd Wretch does know,
What slavery he oft must undergo:
Who tho in silken Skarf, and Cassock drest,
Wears but a gayer Livery at best:
When Dinner calls the Implement must wait
With holy Words to consecrate the Meat:
But hold it for a Favour seldom known,
If he be deign'd the Honour to sit down.
Soon as the Tarts appear, Sir Crape, withdraw!
Those Dainties are not for a spiritual Maw:
Observe your distance, and be sure to stand
Hard by the Cistern with your Cap in hand:

142

There for diversion you may pick your Teeth,
Till the kind Voider comes for your Relief:
For meer Board-wages such their Freedom sell,
Slaves to an Hour, and Vassals to a Bell:
And if th' enjoyment of one day be stole,
They are but Pris'ners out upon Parole:
Always the marks of slavery remain,
And they, tho loose, still drag about their Chain.
And where's the mighty Prospect after all,
A Chaplainship serv'd up, and seven years Thrall?
The menial thing perhaps for a Reward
Is to some slender Benefice preferr'd,
With this Proviso bound, that he must wed
My Ladies antiquated Waiting-maid,
In Dressing only skill'd, and Marmalade,
Let others who such meannesses can brook,
Strike Countenance to every Great man's Look:
Let those that have a mind, turn slaves to eat,
And live contented by another's Plate:

143

I rate my Freedom higher, nor will I
For Food and Rayment truck my Liberty.
But, if I must to my last shifts be put,
To fill a Bladder, and twelve yards of Gut;
Rather with counterfeited wooden Leg,
And my right Arm tied up, I'll chuse to beg:
I'll rather chuse to starve at large, than be
The gawdiest Vassal to Dependency.
'T has ever been the top of my Desires,
The utmost height to which my wish aspires,
That Heav'n would bless me with a small Estate,
Where I might find a close obscure retreat;
There, free from Noise, and all ambitious ends,
Enjoy a few choice Books, and fewer Friends,
Lord of my self, accountable to none,
But to my Conscience, and my God alone:
There live unthought of, and unheard of, die,
And grudge Mankind my very memory.
But since the Blessing is (I find) too great
For me to wish for, or expect of Fate:

144

Yet, maugre all the spight of Destiny,
My Thoughts, and Actions are, and shall be free.
A certain Author, very grave, and sage,
This Story tells: no matter, what the Page.
One time, as they walk'd forth e're break of day,
The Wolf, and Dog encounter'd on the way:
Famish'd the one, meager, and lean of plight,
As a cast Poet, who for Bread does write:
The other fat, and plump, as Prebend, was,
Pamper'd with Luxury, and holy Ease,
Thus met, with Complements, too long to tell,
Of being glad to see each other well:
How now, Sir Towzer? (said the Wolf) I pray,
Whence comes it, that you look so sleek, and gay?
While I, who do as well (I'm sure) deserve,
For want of Livelihood am like to starve?
Troth Sir (replied the Dog) 'thas been my Fate,
I thank the friendly Stars, to hap of late
On a kind Master, to whose care I owe
All this good Flesh, wherewith you see me now:

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From his rich Voider every day I'm fed
With Bones of Fowl, and Crusts of finest Bread:
With Fricassee, Ragoust, and whatsoe're
Of costly Kickshaws now in fashion are,
And more variety of Boil'd and Roast,
Than a Lord Mayor's Waiter e're could boast.
Then, Sir, 'tis hardly credible to tell,
How I'm respected, and belov'd by all:
I'm the Delight of the whole Family,
Not darling Shock more Favourite than I:
I never sleep abroad, to Air expos'd,
But in my warm apartment am inclos'd:
There on fresh Bed of Straw, with Canopy
Of Hutch above, like Dog of State I lie.
Besides, when with high Fare, and Nature fir'd,
To generous Sports of Youth I am inspir'd,
All the proud shees are soft to my Embrace,
From Bitch of Quality down to Turn-spit Race:
Each day I try new Mistrisses and Loves,
Nor envy Sovereign Dogs in their Alcoves.

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Thus happy I of all enjoy the best,
No mortal Cur on Earth yet half so bless'd,
And farther to enhance the Happiness,
All this I get by idleness, and ease.
Troth! (said the Wolf) I envy your Estate
Would to the Gods it were but my good Fate,
That I might happily admitted be
A member of your bless'd Society!
I would with Faithfulness discharge my place
In any thing that I might serve his Grace:
But, think you, Sir, it mould be feasible,
And that my Application might prevail?
Do but endeavour, Sir, you need not doubt;
I make no question but to bring't about:
Only rely on me, and rest secure,
I'll serve you to the utmost of my Pow'r;
As I'm a Dog of Honour, Sir:—but this
I only take the Freedom to advise,
That you'd a little lay your Roughness by,
And learn to practice Complaisance, like me.

147

For that let me alone: I'll have a care,
And top my part, I warrant, to a hair:
There's not a Courtier of them all shall vie
For Fawning, and for Suppleness with me.
And thus resolv'd at last, the Travellers
Towards the House together shape their course:
The Dog, who Breeding well did understand,
In walking gives his Ghest the upper hand:
And as they walk along, they all the while
With Mirth, and pleasant Raillery beguile
The tedious Time, and Way, till Day drew near,
And Light came on; by which did soon appear
The Mastiffs Neck to view all worn and bare.
This when his Comrade spi'd, What means (said he)
This Circle bare, which round your Neck I see?
If I may be so bold;—Sir, you must know,
That I at first was rough, and fierce, like you,
Of Nature curs'd, and often apt to bite
Strangers, and else, who ever came in sight:

148

For this I was tied up, and underwent
The Whip sometimes, and such light Chastisement:
Till I at length by Discipline grew tame,
Gentle, and tractable, as now I am:
'Twas by this short, and slight severity
I gain'd these Marks and Badges, which you see:
But what are they? Allons Monsieur! let's go.
Not one step farther: Sir, excuse me now.
Much joy t'ye of your envied, bless'd Estate:
I will not buy Preferment at that rate:
A Gods name, take your golden Chains for me:
Faith, I'd not be a King, not to be free:
Sir Dog, your humble Servant, so Godbw'y.