Gulliveriana or, a fourth volume of miscellanies. Being a Sequel of the Three Volumes published by Pope and Swift. To which is added, Alexanderiana; or, A Comparison between the Ecclesiastical and Poetical Pope. And many Things, in Verse and Prose, relating to the latter. With an ample Preface; and a Critique on the Third Volume of Miscellanies lately publish'd by those two facetious Writers [by Jonathan Smedley] |
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To a Clergyman, residing in a beautiful
Vale in Norfolk, on his resolving to
live in London.
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 | Gulliveriana |  |
104
To a Clergyman, residing in a beautiful Vale in Norfolk, on his resolving to live in London.
Heu! fuge crudeles terras, & littus avarum.
Virg.
Virg.
Since you're resolv'd, dear Sir, t'abandon
Your North-East Coast, and live in London;
Here, in your Coach, to make a Figure,
(Your Purse and Belly ne'er the bigger)
Consider, well, th'important Step,
And Look, I pray, before you Leap.
Your North-East Coast, and live in London;
Here, in your Coach, to make a Figure,
(Your Purse and Belly ne'er the bigger)
Consider, well, th'important Step,
And Look, I pray, before you Leap.
Supposing, now, remitted clear,
Three hundred Pounds, my Friend, a Year:
Tho', if I am not ill instructed,
Exchange on Bills, being first deducted;
The Proctor next, then Curate paid;
There is not so much to be had
Deduct, too, Tythe of Pigs and Geese;
Some Fish, some Eggs, and things like these;
Which (with Book-Dues) I dare aver it,
Would pay your annual Cost of Claret.
Three hundred Pounds, my Friend, a Year:
Tho', if I am not ill instructed,
Exchange on Bills, being first deducted;
The Proctor next, then Curate paid;
There is not so much to be had
105
Some Fish, some Eggs, and things like these;
Which (with Book-Dues) I dare aver it,
Would pay your annual Cost of Claret.
Suppose, again, then, which is true,
Instead of Three, but Hundreds Two:
Are you so much, Sir, in the Dark yet,
To think this Sum will go to Market,
Twelve Months, without your being undone,
Where every thing's so dear, in London?
Where it confounds the deepest Sages,
To pay House-rent and Servants Wages!
To lay in Coals, both small and great;
Which keep you warm, and dress your Meat:
Where great Estates away are swept,
By running in the Tradesmens Debt.
Believe me, Sir, 'twill never do here;
Consider Baker first, then Brewer,
Bethink the Charge it does create,
Only of one plain Joint to eat;
And that a Tip-top Dish, well drest,
Costs more, than makes a Norfolk Feast.
Instead of Three, but Hundreds Two:
Are you so much, Sir, in the Dark yet,
To think this Sum will go to Market,
Twelve Months, without your being undone,
Where every thing's so dear, in London?
Where it confounds the deepest Sages,
To pay House-rent and Servants Wages!
To lay in Coals, both small and great;
Which keep you warm, and dress your Meat:
Where great Estates away are swept,
By running in the Tradesmens Debt.
Believe me, Sir, 'twill never do here;
Consider Baker first, then Brewer,
Bethink the Charge it does create,
Only of one plain Joint to eat;
106
Costs more, than makes a Norfolk Feast.
Besides, Sir, you can have no Notion
Of the Expence of Local Motion:
Pause well, before you do begin it;
A Farthing is (for every Minute)
The Price, to set you barely down,
In paultry Hacks and Chairs in Town;
And this would keep a Coach with you,
And Six—Coachman, Postilion too;
Buy Sawce and Pickles, when you dine,
A Dram, and Glass or two of Wine.
Again, Contingent Charges are
So numerous, they'd make you stare:
To Plays and Operas you must steal;
And, if you're led by Sabbath Zeal
To Church, 'twill cost you, deadly dear,
For Elbow Room, to say your Prayer.
Then there are Taverns, Toy-shops, Shows,
Monsters, Abortions, Embryo's;
The Tow'r and Wax-work, that command
Your Pence, and Fawks's Sleight of Hand,
News—Journals, Books (if you're inclin'd)
Thieves, Beggars, Cheats of various kind;
From Lilly, fam'd for Tongue-Pad Skill,
To the Orators on Ludgate-Hill.
With Thousand Taxes, they amerce one;
To starve the Poor, and glut the Parson.
Of the Expence of Local Motion:
Pause well, before you do begin it;
A Farthing is (for every Minute)
The Price, to set you barely down,
In paultry Hacks and Chairs in Town;
And this would keep a Coach with you,
And Six—Coachman, Postilion too;
Buy Sawce and Pickles, when you dine,
A Dram, and Glass or two of Wine.
Again, Contingent Charges are
So numerous, they'd make you stare:
To Plays and Operas you must steal;
And, if you're led by Sabbath Zeal
To Church, 'twill cost you, deadly dear,
For Elbow Room, to say your Prayer.
Then there are Taverns, Toy-shops, Shows,
Monsters, Abortions, Embryo's;
107
Your Pence, and Fawks's Sleight of Hand,
News—Journals, Books (if you're inclin'd)
Thieves, Beggars, Cheats of various kind;
From Lilly, fam'd for Tongue-Pad Skill,
To the Orators on Ludgate-Hill.
With Thousand Taxes, they amerce one;
To starve the Poor, and glut the Parson.
Again, your Friends make constant Sport on,
Five thousand Pounds! your Yorkshire Fortune.
And say, in short, you're fairly Bit;
Had better ta'en a Norfolk Tit,
With half Five hundred; and staid there,
To wake and sleep, secure; and cheer
Your Heart, with cheap or unbought Food;
And save your Soul by doing Good.
Behold the Pleasures of the Vale!
The Racy Cyder, Amber Ale;
Fresh Fish, accounted so inviting!
From largest Cod, to smallest Whiteing.
And Turbot boil'd! Delicious Food!
And Turbot sous'd! so wond'rous Good!
And Pilcher, in fresh Butter drest:
Or Pilcher dry'd;—Itself a Feast!
Or freshest Eggs, with saltest Ling:
To pass by many other Thing;
And so I'll end my tedious Story,
Both Cases being laid before ye.
Five thousand Pounds! your Yorkshire Fortune.
And say, in short, you're fairly Bit;
Had better ta'en a Norfolk Tit,
With half Five hundred; and staid there,
To wake and sleep, secure; and cheer
Your Heart, with cheap or unbought Food;
And save your Soul by doing Good.
Behold the Pleasures of the Vale!
The Racy Cyder, Amber Ale;
Fresh Fish, accounted so inviting!
From largest Cod, to smallest Whiteing.
108
And Turbot sous'd! so wond'rous Good!
And Pilcher, in fresh Butter drest:
Or Pilcher dry'd;—Itself a Feast!
Or freshest Eggs, with saltest Ling:
To pass by many other Thing;
And so I'll end my tedious Story,
Both Cases being laid before ye.
| Gulliveriana | |