Who make us poor, dull authors say,

Not what we mean, but what they choose; Who to our most abundant shares

Of nonsense add still more of theirs,

And are to poets just such evils
As caterpillars find those flies,*
Which, not content to sting like devils,
Lay eggs upon their backs likewise—
To guard against such foul deposits
Of other's meaning in my rhymes,
(A thing more needful here, because it's
A subject, ticklish in these times) —
I, here, to all such wits make known,
Monthly and Weekly, Whig and Tory,
'Tis this Religion-this alone-

I aim at in the following story :

*The greatest number of the ichneumon tribe are seen settling upon the back of the caterpillar, and darting at different intervals their stings into its body—at every dart they depose an egg."- GOLDSMITH.

FABLE.

When Royalty was young and bold,
Ere, touch'd by Time, he had become -
If 'tisn't civil to say old,

At least, a ci-devant jeune homme ;

One evening, on some wild pursuit,
Driving along, he chanc'd to see

Religion, passing by on foot,

And took him in his vis-à-vis.

This said Religion was a Friar,

The humblest and the best of men,

Who ne'er had notion or desire

Of riding in a coach till then.

"I say"-quoth Royalty, who rather Enjoy'd a masquerading joke

"I say, suppose, my good old father,

"You lend me, for a while, your cloak."

The Friar consented-little knew

What tricks the youth had in his head; Besides, was rather tempted too

By a lac'd coat he got in stead.

Away ran Royalty, slap-dash,

Scampering like mad about the town;

Broke windows, shiver'd lamps to smash,

And knock'd whole scores of watchmen down.

While nought could they, whose heads were broke, Learn of the "why" or the "wherefore," Except that 'twas Religion's cloak

The gentleman, who crack'd them, wore.

Meanwhile, the Friar, whose head was turn'd
By the lac'd coat, grew frisky too;
Look'd big-his former habits spurn'd-
And storm'd about, as great men do:

Dealt much in pompous oaths and curses
Said "d-mn you" often, or as bad—
Laid claim to other people's purses—
In short, grew either knave, or mad.

As work like this was unbefitting,

And flesh and blood no longer bore it, The Court of Common Sense, then sitting, Summon'd the culprits both before it.

Where, after hours in wrangling spent (As Courts must wrangle to decide well), Religion to St. Luke's was sent,

And Royalty pack'd off to Bridewell.

With this proviso-should they be
Restor'd, in due time, to their senses,

They both must give security,

In future, against such offences

Religion ne'er to lend his cloak,

Seeing what dreadful work it leads to; And Royalty to crack his joke,—

But not to crack poor people's heads too.

FABLE VI.

THE LITTLE GRAND LAMA.

PROEM.

NOVELLA, a young Bolognese,

The daughter of a learn'd Law Doctor, * Who had with all the subtleties

Of old and modern jurists stock'd her,
Was so exceeding fair, 'tis said,

And over hearts held such dominion,
That when her father, sick in bed,
Or busy, sent her, in his stead,

To lecture on the Code Justinian,

She had a curtain drawn before her,

Lest, if her charms were seen, the students Should let their young eyes wander o'er her, And quite forget their jurisprudence.+

* Andreas.

+ Quand il étoit occupé d'aucune essoine, il envoyoit Novelle, sa fille, en son lieu lire aux escholes en charge, et, afin que la biaüté d'elle n'empêchât la pensée des oyants, elle avoit une petite courtine devant elle. Christ. de Pise, Cité des Dames, p. 11. cap.36.