Thus at the bar the booby Bettesworth,
Though half a crown o'erpay's his sweat's worth,
Who knows in law nor text nor margent,
Calls Singleton † his brother sergeant.
And thus fanatic saints, though neither in
Doctrine nor discipline our brethren,
Are brother protestants and Christians,
As much as Hebrews and Philistines:
But in no other sense, than nature
Has made a rat our fellow-creature.
Lice from your body suck their food:
But is a louse your flesh and blood?
Though born of human filth and sweat, it
As well may say man did beget it.
And maggots in your nose and chin
As well may claim you for their kin.
Yet critics may object, why not?
Since lice are brethren to a Scot:
Which made our swarm of sects determine
Employments for their brother vermin.
But be they English, Irish, Scottish,

What protestant can be so sottish,

While o'er the church these clouds are gathering, To call a swarm of lice his brethren?

As Moses, by divine advice,

In Egypt turn'd the dust to lice;

And as our sects, by all descriptions,

Have hearts more harden'd than Egyptians;
As from the trodden dust they spring,

And, turn'd to lice, infest the king:

*This provocation occasioned Bettesworth's personal attack upon the Dean, mentioned at length in the Life of the Author, and commemorated in the poems which follow.

+ Henry Singleton, Esq. then prime sergeant, afterwards lordchief-justice of the common pleas, which he resigned, and was sometime after made master of the rolls.-F.

For pity's sake, it would be just,
A rod should turn them back to dust.
Let folks in high or holy stations
Be proud of owning such relations;
Let courtiers hug them in their bosom,
As if they were afraid to lose 'em:
While I, with humble Job, had rather
Say to corruption-" Thou 'rt my father."
For he that has so little wit
To nourish vermin, may be bit.

1

BETTESWORTH'S EXULTATION

UPON HEARING THAT HIS NAME WOULD BE TRANSMITTED TO POSTERITY IN DR SWIFT'S WORKS.

BY WILLIAM DUNKIN.

WELL! now, since the heat of my passion's abated, That the Dean hath lampoon'd me, my mind is elated :

Lampoon'd did I call it ?-No-what was it then?
What was it?'Twas fame to be lash'd by his pen:
For had he not pointed me out, I had slept till
E'en doomsday, a poor insignificant reptile,
Half lawyer, half actor, pert, dull, and inglorious,
Obscure, and unheard of-but now I'm notorious:
Fame has but two gates, a white and a black one.
The worst they can say is, I got in at the back one:
If the end be obtain'd 'tis equal what portal
I enter, since I'm to be render'd immortal:
So clysters apply'd to the anus, 'tis said,
By skilful physicians, give ease to the head-

Though my title be spurious, why should I be dastard,

A man is a man, though he should be a bastard. Why sure 'tis some comfort that heroes should slay

us,

If I fall, I would fall by the hand of Æneas;

And who, by the Drapier would not rather damn'd be,

Than demigoddized by madrigal Namby. *

A man is no more, who has once lost his breath; But poets convince us there's life after death. They call from their graves the king or the peasant, React our old deeds, and make what's past present; And when they would study to set forth alike, So the lines be well drawn, and the colours but strike, Whatever the subject be, coward or hero,

A tyrant or patriot, a Titus or Nero,

To a judge 'tis all one which he fixes his eye on,
And a well painted monkey's as good as a lion.
The scriptures affirm (as I heard in my youth,
For indeed I ne'er read them, to speak for once truth,)
That death is the wages of sin, but the just
Shall die not, although they be laid in the dust.
They say so, so be it, I care not a straw,
Although I be dead both in Gospel and law;
In yerse I shall live, and be read in each climate;
What more can be said of prime sergeant or primate?
While Carter and Prendergast both may be rotten,
And damn'd to the bargain, and yet be forgotten.

* Ambrose Philips.

AN EPIGRAM,

INSCRIBED TO THE HONOURABLE SERGEANT KITE.

[Now first published from a copy in the Dean's hand-writing, in possession of J. Connill, Esq.]

IN

In your indignation what mercy appears, While Jonathan's threaten'd with loss of his ears; For who would not think it a much better choice, By your knife to be mangled than rack'd with your voice.

If truly you [would] be reveng'd on the parson, Command his attendance while you act your farce

on,

Instead of your maiming, your shooting, or banging,

*

Bid Povey secure him while you are haranguing. Had this been your method to torture him, long

since,

He had cut his own ears to be deaf to your non

sense.

* Povey was serjeant-at-arms to the House of Commons.

THE YAHOO'S OVERTHROW; OR, THE KEVAN BAYL'S NEW BALLAD,

UPON SERGEANT KITE'S INSULTING THE DEAN.

[Grub Street Journal, No. 189, August 9, 1734.-"In December last Mr Bettes worth of the city of Dublin, sergeant-at-law and Member of Parliament, openly swore, before many hundreds of people, that, upon the first opportunity, by the help of ruf fians, he would murder or maim the Dean of St Patrick's, (Dr Swift.) Upon which thirty-one of the principal inhabitants of that liberty signed a paper to this effect: That, out of their great love and respect to the Dean, to whom the whole kingdom hath so many obligations, they would endeavour to defend the life and limbs of the said Dean against a certain man and all his ruffians and murderers.' With which paper they, in the name of themselves and all the inhabitants of the city, attended the Dean on January 8, who being extremely ill in bed of a giddiness and deafness, and not able to receive them, immediately dictated a very grateful answer. The occasion of a certain man's declaration of his villainous design against the Dean was a frivolous unproved suspicion that he had written some lines in verse reflecting upon him."*]

JOLLY boys of St Kevan's, St Patrick's, Donore, And Smithfield, I'll tell you, if not told before,

* See Vol. XVIII. p. 247, note. Kevan Bayl was a cant expression for the mob of this district of Dublin. Ibid. p. 307.