Upon Urg; KNEE, the Lilliputian Refident at the
Court of Iberia.
THE Knee the human body's fuppleft part,
Beft fuits an embaffy and legate's art,
Bending to beg hoftilities may ceafe,
To fue for treaty, and to pray for peace.
Writers, tranfpofing letters, call it Keen;
An error mended in your Magazine.
The more expreffive name we all allow ;---
Keen things may cut, but Knees are best to bow.
SOME few days ago, I received from a friend
the London Magazine for laft June, in which
I find a copy of verfes called an Epistle To Mrs
MASTERS and ber readers. The author, I confefs,
has drawn a black and heavy charge against me;
but, fure, had he confider'd the epithet INCAR-
NATE, he would have feen CLEMENE was
but an
earthly angel; and every one knows I am not
the first that has mentioned fuch bright terreftri-
als. 'Tis true, I have made her the moft illuftri-
ous of the fair Forms of Virtue, and perhaps the
compliment may feem above fubject, but, with-
out wrefting my fenfe, cannot poffibly be apply'd
to any higher order than her own, and then none
but the ladies who excel her ought to be offended;
for I have reprefented her a meer mortal creature,
indebted to a divine Being for every perfection of
body and mind.
As for the grave gentleman who
attacks me in the religious mafk, I believe I
may, without a breach of charity, prefume, he
was prompted more by paffion than piety; and, in
anfwer to his epiftle, I defire you will pleafe to in-
fert the following lines in your next Magazine.
WHoe'er thou art, my nameless, angry foe,
That hop'ft, unfeen, to strike an envious blow,
In vain you strive, with bafe diffembling art,
To hide the fecret rancour of your heart;
In vain, wou'd black infernal hate ceonceal,
Beneath the brightness of religion's veil.
What did your line of blafphemy intend?
Can rage, like yours, promote a virtuous end?
In your invidious charge is plainly feen
A lurking enemy that vents his fpleen,
Wrefting my words to fenfe I ne'er design'd,
And foreign to each candid reader's mind;
My honeft meaning wrong'd: with zeal you burn,
And pious grow, to ferve a prefent turn ;
Then in a facred, but affected, ftrain,
You perfecute the errors of your brain.
But if you needs muft ape the critick's skill,
For once take counfel at a female quill.
And when you next attempt the cenfor's page,
Refume your judgment, and renounce your rage.
Friendly reproofs with joy my foul receives,
But I defpife the blow that malice gives.
Faults I allow in ev'ry piece I've writ,
The want of fpirit, elegance, and wit,
The pointed beauties, and the polish'd art,
To raife my verfe, and charm the reader's heart;
Yet need not call Myrtillo's manly mufe,
To aid my pen, and combat your abuse.'
My themes themselves fhall for their author plead,
And justify me from an impious deed.
Pure are my thoughts, from all profaneness free,
Awfully reverent to the deity.
'Tis true, with warmth I celebrate a friend,
And am delighted when I can commend.
While each impartial judge to me will grant
What you, my monitor, seem much to want:
O let me here the generous talent boast,
I moft am pleas'd when I can praise the most.
Take not a line or two to feed your spite;
But read the whole, and understand it right.
Go, fearch unprejudic'd, and then you'll find
Marks of good-nature with a chriftian mind:
What! tho' I fondly fung* Clemene's name,
And was tranfported with the darling theme;
No adoration, no falfe worship's there,
No folemn invocation made in pray'r,
No wonder-working pow'r to her is given,
Nor ought implor'd which I fhou'd afk of heav'n
I ever thought it was high merit's due,
To be admir'd, belov'd, applauded too.
I lov'd, admir'd, and prais'd my virtuous friend,
But knew each grace did from her god defcend.
own'd & fpring whence all thofe beauties came, And lowly bow'd unto the pow'r SU PREA M. Ulrome, Mar. 8, 1738-9.
* See Clemene's charaƐter, in my poems, p. 34.
Our Readers may have a curiofity to fee what occafi oned the foregoing beautiful lines; which is the only confideration for inferting fo unpoetical a Criticifm as the following.
W Hoe'er you be, in whatfoever place,
Who the first sheets of Mafters' poems grace;
Whoever reads "replete with ev'ry charm,
Angel incarnate! virtue's brighteft form;"
With just refentment fir'd, with pious rage,
Tear, tear th' accurfed, the blafphemous page.
What fuperftitious papift can adore
A holy relique, fhrine, or image more,
Then thou Clemene ? Vile idolater!
To their falfe gods what worshippers could chant,
In all their hymns, a praise more excellent ?
Or to the true, borne on devotion's wing,
What raptur'd faint, fublimer anthems fing?
"Virtue's bright'ft form!" O, execrable thought!
I greatly mourn, but muft not hide the fault;
Left I'm condemn'd, with her, for having giv'n
To Clemene the glory due to heav'n;
From a MOTHER to her DAUGHTER,
With Dr CARTER's SERMONS.
THOU whofe Welfare as my own
prize;
Regard th' Inftruction of the Learn'd and
Wife.
Such muit this Author be, who writes fo well;
Whofe Method, Doctrine, Senfe, and Style
excel.
As thefe Difcourfes the best Rules impart,
May'ft thou, my Dear! infcribe them on
thy Heart!
Reduce to Practice ev'ry Precept here,
And in the Paths of Virtue perfevere !
No fiery Flashes, here, of zealous Rage,
No Fumes of Bigotry, obfcure the Page;
No wild enthusiast Flights pervert the Text;
Nor is the fenfe by fceptic Doubts perplext.
But Reafon's Pow'r is feen in cleareit Light,
And Gofpel Truth appears divinely bright.
The Merit of those Sermons stands confeft;
Whofe Arguments can bear a Readers's Teft.
No Grace of Action, or Deliv'ry, there,
Engage the Paffions, or enchant the Ear.
The Preacher, ftript of all exterior Aid,
By Reafon's Force alone can then perfuade.
Our learned Author, by that Force,fucceeds;
Nor Elocution, he, nor Action needs.
But potent Truth, without the Roftrum Art,
Informs the Judgment, and improves the
His Arguments are in a clofe-linkt Chain,
Strong, clear, conclufive, elegant and plain.
The moral Character he well defines;
Thro' ev'ry Page the Chriftian Spirit fhines.
This, to the Merit of the Work is due;
The Preacher quite unknown, to me and
I, with Delight, have read; 'tis now my
Care,
That you fo rational a Pleasure share.
You'll find an Entertainment thro' the
Whole,
Where Wisdom's facred Dictates feaft & Soul.
MELISSA.
SPRING, A Paftoral, from the Greek of Bion.
THYRSIS.
UR life what feafon beft, my Damon, fuits,
The pleafing Autumn with his golden fruits,
Summer, whofe funs the yellow harvest bring,
Or lazy Winter, or the breathing Spring?
Speak, while around the fportive lambkins play,
And with thy tuneful fong beguile the day.
DAMON.
Unmeet am I, O Thyrfis, to define
What beft of nature and the work divine.
Grateful and good to man are all things found,
Return of feafons and the various round:
But wou'd'st thou know what pleafes Damon bet
And learn the judgment of a private breast;
For me the Winter's cold has no delight,
Nor fultry heat and Summer funs invite;
When pinch'd I labour for relief in toil,
Or pant, diffolving, o'er the thirsty foil;
And the pale furfeit dwells upon his face:
Nor Autumn; fickness in his brow trace,
The faireft offspring of the circling year! [chear;
In Spring the valleys laugh; in Spring we prove
But hail, thou Spring! whofe fragrant beauties
No more the folitary night we mourn,
The ftrength of pleasure, and the rage of love:
No brumal horrours nip the kindly birth,
Nor parching folftice taints the teeming earth;
But greet, refresh'd, the growing day's return:
The fmiling fields attract our wond'ring eyes,
While blooming joys enchant the fertile plain.
And painted fcenes in gay diforder rife;
With glowing life exults the raptur'd fwain,
Iniquiffimam PACEM juftiffime BELLO antefero.
In Praife of the CONVENTION.
BE gone! my fears, my too familiar fears;
Bleed are the PEACE-MAKER3.
Bearing her olive branch the dove appears,
A precious box the fign'd Convention brings,
The wood that made us foes, now makes us friends.
Firm, ratify'd, and fure, as faith of kings.
Unlefs too near we touch the Spanish fhore.
The very outfide amity portends,
No guarda cofta's dare moleft us more,
And fearch our fhips, not fteal the goods away.
Pacifick minifters, foft measures, hail!
Then just a vifit neighbourly they'll pay,
Those who can thus perfwade, ne'er need compel,
Such unexampled patience muft prevail. †
Away with force! memorials do as well.
Tis envious calumny (if fame be right,)
Accept thy fhare of glory, prudent Keen,
Unjustly charg'd by fome as overfeen:
Dextrous to plan out peace, or arms to wield,
We can negotiate now, as well as fight.
Three treaties fince fcarce did the harm of one.
And fhine alike in council and the field.
The Utrecht blund'rers all with fhame are gone,
Shou'd not that fpunge for captures pait atone,
Sweeten'd by thy addrefs the Spaniard proud
Remits a debt England scarce knew the ow'd.
Be it a fifth, eighth, tenth, or more or lef.
He'll pay fome pounds befide in fpecie down.
The fair fubmiffion does the wrong conicis..
When embaffies obtain the ends of war,
Couriers and legates are the cheapest far.
Plung'd headlong into war, ye hotspurs, fay
To give the military cheft fupplies?
Who fhall command our armies? what fhall pay
Can the most skill'd, in ways and means, devife
Spite of the finking fund, our debts remain,
And annual millions fcarce our peace maintain.
Each rated fubject buys the noon-day light,
His rufh excis'd, that chears the gloom of night.
Impofts on every drop that runs from malt,
The price enhanc'd of every corn of falt;
*Sent in a box of Legrwood,
+ Vincit qui patitur.
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Can ftatesmen any taxing scheme prepare?
Or new excife, unless they gage the air?
Say, anti-courtiers, (cou'd ye judge aright)
Is this a time to quarrel? this to fight?
Let each bold fon of Mars fheath up his blade,
Be loft, with all the reft, the killing trade.
Since manufact'rers find no work to do,
Let the fleck foldiery be idle too,
Or only starving rioters perfue;
Drive down the colliers to their cavern'd domes,
Or pen up weavers in their empty looms. J. A.
Extract of a Poem on the DIVINE ATTRI-
BUTES. Written by a young LADY.
IF no immortal firft exifting hand
Form'd the bright fcenes of ocean, fky, and land,
Whence rose this prefent frame, this fpacious world?
What powerful art to beauteous order hurl'd
A jumbl'd chaos? What produc'd the earth?
What chance cou'd give the ftately fabric birth?
Whence the gay livery of the painted meads,
The fmiling groves, and neighbouring fylvan
fhades?
Whence the tall mountains, vales, and rifing hills,
Meand'ring brooks, and little murmuring tills?
Whence numerous fpecies of a different fize,
And all the little warblers of the fkies?
Who form'd the various monsters of the sea,
The fhark, the whale, and all th' inferior spray?
Who arch'd the fky? Who built etherial sphere,
And plac'd ten thoufand glift'ring planets there?
Who fhap'd the moon, the filver queen of night,
And all the other twinkling orbs of light?
Who fix'd in azure realms the prince of day,
And o'er the concave mark'd his destin'd way?
Who arm'd his chariot with refplendent rays,
And gave him power to dart the radiant blaze?
Who taught him to revolve his dazling throne?
Who lent his beams to radiate worlds unknown?
Who bid the dufky mantle of the night
Involve the globe, and dim the lab'ring fight?
Who taught the foul to thrill with fhudd`ring fear,
When folemn horrours cloath the darkned sphere?
Who taught the bow with a wide arch to rife,
And ftretch her convex o'er the louring skies?
Who tipt her borders with a folemn green,
With many a crimfon-purple ftream between ?
If but from chance revolving order came,
And nature blunder'd on this beauteous frame.
[More of this another time.]
The fallen ANGEL.
SOME mirthful lads the other day
A fancy took to act a play.
Fach chofe the part that pleas'd him best.
Young Phaeton too amongst the rest,
Chofe one -he long'd to reprefent,
A meflenger from heaven' fent.
As he came failing thro' the air,
His heavenly errand to declare,
(Whether on purpofe or by chance
Is no material circumftance.)
O fad difafter! the machine
The hero was fupported in,
Crack'd on a fudden from above,
And did irregularly move.
Afraid of what might be th' event
Of fuch unlucky accident,
The angel cries, "G-d d-n you all!
"Take care, or elfe, by g-d! I'fall,”
Juft as he faid, it came to pass;
And down he fell upon his a
Which having fcratch'd, by G---d he swore,
He'd never be an angel more.
VERSES upon bearing that a Licence refus'd
to a Play, entitled, GUSTAVUS VASA, the
Deliverer of his Country.,
W Hile the rank vices of a tainted
Thro' courts and fenates, caught the mimick flage;
While luft, broad-fronted, own'd unblushing shame,
And private malice kindled party flame;
I figh'd, unbrib'd by pow't, unftung by hate,
An equal fubject of this free-born ftate;
In filent grief I trac'd those happy days,
With Henry's wreaths when Shakespear twin'd his
For one great end, when Britons dar'd unite,
Her heroes combat, and her poets write.
I wifh'd-the with fucceeds; my ravish'd eyes
Behold the good, the brave GUSTAVUS rife,
A Briton now confess'd; but ah! in vain ;.
Here ruder foes avenge the conquer'd Dane:
Here falls the best fupport of freedom's caufe,
Ye gods! and can he fall by BRITAIN'S LAWS!
Shall tyrant-policy and flavish-fear,
To freedom's fweeteft tale fhut Britain's ear?
Shall her brave fons the patriot-chief disclaim?
Her infants fhould be taught to lifp his name.
When fuch the theme, let heaven and earth rejoice!
Perish the wretch who dares refuse his voice!
Perish the flave who dares the tale apply,
And mark, in Britain, Darif tyranny!
Stanzas to the memory of an agreeable Lady, buried
in marriage to a perfon undeserving ber.
"TWAS always held, and ever will,
By fage mankind, difcreeter
T'anticipate a leffer ill,
Than undergo a greater.
When mortals dread difeafes, pains,'
And languishing conditions;
Who do'n't the leffer ills fuftain
Of phyfic and Phyficians?
Rather than lofe his whole eftate,
He that but little wife is,
Full gladly pays four parts in eight
To taxes and excifes.
Our merchants Spain has near undone,"
For loft fhips not requiting:
This bears our noble k
-to fhun
The lofs of blood-in fighting!
With num'rous ills, in fingle life,
The batchelour's attended:
Such to avoid, he takes a wife
And much the cafe is mended.'
Poor Gratia, in her twentieth year,
Fore-feeing future woe,
Chofe to attend a monkey bere,'
Before an ape beloru.
VERSES to be infcribed after Ld Cobham's dearb on a building in his gardens, where the busts of English worthies are placed.
A Mong thefe chief of British race,
Who live in breathing ftone,
Why has not Cobham's bust a place?
The ftructure was his own."
The DEAN and the COUNTRY PARSON. An Imitation of VIRGIL, ECL. I. COUNTRY PARSON.
Y Benchay manfion, decent for a Duit retain
While your poor brethren, from their Pulpits driv'n,
Are diffident of aid from ought but HEAV'N:
You fill new volumes with your Stella's name,
And feem grown old in nothing, but in FAME.
Dean] A PATRIOT, tho' a minifter of ftate!
A patriot plac'd Me in this calm retreat;
With honeft zeal fhall my industrious page
Oft, in his favour, force the prefent age;
To diftant periods vindicate his Fame,
Proclaim his worth, and prove what I proclaim:
He fix'd my fortune, and he form'd my feng,
An independent of the vulgar throng.
Par. I envy not the bleffings you poffefs, But wonder Malice cannot make them lefs; How in fuch ticklish times you're fuffer'd ink, And left to fpeak, ev'n part of what you think! While we, with fruitless efforts, ftrive to claim Raiment for posu'r, and food instead of fame: Our flocks, alas! on grounds unfit to till, Beft part were ravag'd by the berbage-bill; Our co the furly Schifmaticks refuse, Taught by that bench, which grumbles at our dues. Bleft as we are, to catch a dropping crown, To pay for pipes, or mend a tatter'd gown. We might have feen, if we had proper fear, This ftorm a coming, ere it came fo near; By melancholy Omens pre-advis'd,
For Hoadly publish'd, † Whifton advertis'd.--30
But name the PATRIOT who difcern'd your vein,
And fav'd the land, by making you a DEAN.
Dean,] London I thought like fome cathedral
Where all the fable-brothers of the Gown [ton,
At vifitation meet; 'tis thus we call,
Whitehall, the Lowure; Bermingham, Whiteball:
Thus are the fmalleft like the greatest things
Kings like to gods, and viceroys like to kings.
But, London o'er all other towns prevails,
As English prelates, o'er a prieft in Wales.
Par. And how were you feduc'd, or with what
To vifit London, and to leave your cure?
Dean.] A love of LIBERTY inflam'd me forth,
[lure,
Clos'd in a § corner of the rugged north;
Compell'd, when half my life was spent in vain,
To feek preferment in a nobler fcene;
At court car is'd, the country was forgot,
And, I confefs, a parfon's barren lot;
Obfcur'd my parts, my hopes were in decay,
Nor had my wit fufficient room to play;
Tho' many a pamphlet pofted up to town,
Revis'd in vain, for no reward came down. /
Par.] We wond'red who the general TASTE
AWT, without the vanity of wit! [could hit:
For You the courtier rend, the hawker flew,
Ev'n wits admir'd, and Will's was full of you:
YOURS was the prefs, and Lintet was your own:
A PRIEST! yet prais'd, and envied tho' unknown.
Dean.] What could I do? bereft of other means,
With only WIT, to force ME from my chains; 60
And WIT was only valuable there,
There HARLEY first inclin'd a gracious ear:
HARLEY, the pride of no inglorious REIGN,
Employ'd MY PEN, and fent me back, a Dean.
* Book of Sacraments. † Jofephus. Dublin
Cafle. Carrickfergus.
Par.] Happy old man! thy revenue fecure,
Tho' thy own CHARITY preferve thee poor;
Tho' Ireland, preft beneath a foreign race,
May keep the PATRIOT fretting for ber peace:
No poisonous politicks fall blind her eyes,
Thy piercing pow'r fuch politicks fhall dread,
While you can point her, where the paifon lies;
And if they pread, by violence they spread.
Happy old man! enjoy thy facred feat, There footh thy flumber, and indulge thy reft; Yet warm with Patriot, and Poetick beat: Bleft if a nation's prayers can make thee bleft: Whofe vows return the Relpite, which you gave, And, fuatcht from ruin, fave you from the grave. Dean.] Bithops fhall reckon facrilege a fin, And with church-livings ceafe to glut their kin; 80 The native Irish fhall thro' Scotland roam, The Chinese wander, Scotchmen stay at home, Ere HARLEY in my breaft fhall cease to glow, Or I forget the gratitude I owe.
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Par.] But we (condemn'd to everlafting toils) Muft fearch for profelytes in Indian foils; To preach the gospel to a den of thieves; Binish'd from hence, like felons with reprieves, Or with a fiddle eke out a lean cure, Where, in Welsh mountains, ev'ry priest is poor; Or up in Kerry, from the world exil'd, With grief grow quickly, like the natives, wild. Is there referv'd, for us, no happy hour, For wean'd affection, and for ravish'd pow'r, To fix attention on our antient throne, The CHURCH retriev'd, the LAIETY our own? And Quakers dream, and Anabaptifts rant? Shall floven Scotchmen in our pulpits cant? Our decest orders fhall the foe confufe, Unrail the table, and the vet difufe?
Go, prieft, and labour paffages perplext,
Go conn each comment on a crabbed text;
And Bggery entail'd upon thy race.
Then count thy gains, diftinguifh'd with difgrace,
Farewel, O church! with thy diftafters worn,
Thy faes triumphant, and thy friends forlorn;
No more my voice fhall rend your facred wall,
No folio read, no commentary turn,
Nor where my duty calls, attend my call;
Since folema truths, falubrious tenets fail,
Burn all my fermons, my concordance burn.
Let deifts fncer, and prefbyterians rail.
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Dea.] You feem to want a lodging by your looks, And I can give you mutton, and fome books; To night, with ME, you'll mitigate your forrow, And for my abfent curate preach to morrow. Now beaux to drefs them for the ciftle rife, And barber's-boys with powder blind your eyes; Now ev'ry street begins to crowd with chairs, And Patrick's bells have fummon'd us to pray`rs. EDW. LONERGAN.
VERSES for a Lady's PRAYER-BOOK, BLeft with to pure a mind, fɔ fair a frame,
A faint's humility, a jeraph's flame; Preft with no want, polluted with no ftain ; Why kneels the fair, what pardon wou'd she gain? Unless the lovely zealat ftoop to pray For thoufands, whom her eyes have led aftray.
N. B. We are obliged to defer the Latin Tranflation of the beautiful One to FAME: This Ode was not ftolen from the London Magaziners, chofe Copy is incorrect in war 40 Words. Neither do we call this Ode nor the Song they rention Original .
Historical Chronicle. March 1739.
THURSDAY, March 1.
HE S. Sea Company, in a general Court, unanimousTy approved the Conduct of their Directors, in refufing to pay the 68,000l. demanded by the K. of Spain; and referr'd the further Confideration of that Affair to another general Court. FRIDAY, 2.
The House of Lords prefented their Addrefs of Thanks to his Majesty on the Convention (See p. 118.) according to their Refolutions of the preceding Day, which was carried by a Majority of 21. 'Tis faid the Prince of Wales went out with the Minority, and that 40 Lords entered their Proteft confifting of ten Reafons for their Diffent.
Printed Lifts of the Common Council of this City, and the Trades they profefs, were delivered to the Houses of Lords and Commons, having for a Motto the 27, 31, 32, 33 Verfes of Ecclus. xxxviii. which ended thus: All these traft to their Hands: And every one is wife in his IVork. Without thefe cannot a City be inhabited: And they shall not dwell where they will, nor go up and down. They hall not be fought for in publick Council.
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of March 17. he inftances wherein the Lift is fcandalously falfe! Tho. Long, a Merchant, fays he, is filed Warehouse-man,----2. Robt. Cary, Efq; who freights Ships every Year for Virginia, is ftiled Tobacconist,--3. John Dumello, Merchant, is called a Wine-cooper,--4. Samuel Holmes, Merchant, a Brandyman,-5. Wm "Hull, Merchant, a Pewterer.---6. John HanAbury, Merchant, a Warehouse-keeper.--7. Giles -8. David Vincent, Merchant, a Packer. Lequesne, Merchant, is called a Druggist.--. 9. Wm Cleaver, Merchant, a Wine-cooper.10. Richard Romain, a confiderable Silk-Dyer, is dignified with the Name of Rag-Dyer.I don't think, (continues he) because a Mer<chant fometimes fends great Quantities of Pewter abroad, that turns him into a Pewterer; tho' it ferves to fhew how common Tradefmen are interested in foreign Traffick.- But the Perfon who directed that Lift is falling; he is going, like a finking Man he is catching at every Straw that will keep him above Water Minute: A LIE that will ferve a Day, nay 'an Hour, is a Thing of fome Confequence to The Reader may obferves upon the Chim ;' whole, how trifling Party-Difputes are. A Citizen may be a Packer, and a Merchant alfo; he may keep a Shop where Tobacco is retailed, and be a Freighter of Ships. And there may be 1000 Citizens real Merchants in London, and yet, perhaps, not ten of them may think proper, or have leifure to put up for CommonCouncil Men. So that Mr Common Sense had
This being a Party Affair, that our Country Readers may the better understand it; we must inform them that the Common Council of London had in a folemn Manner prefented a Petition to the Parliament, (See p. 104.) concerning the Convention, and the Obstruction to Trade in ŷ WEST Indies: But as the Parliament E had the Affair under Confideration, and the WEST India Merchants themselves petition'd, fome of the Common Council thought their own Petition needles; and, to make a Jeft of it, prefented this Lift, with their Trades, in which they diftinguish'd but one WEST India, and feven other Merchants out of the whole Number 230. This was probably intended as a Reuland for the Oliver of the other Party, who had made a very great Joke of the Convention, and all the Proceedings of the Adminiftration relating to it. (See p. 86, 87, 91, 92.) On the other hand, the Common Senje Journal, of the 10th, tells us;
The Defign of this Lift is to repre-
fent the City of London as a mean, contemptible
Place, and the principal Citizens thereof as fo G
many poor, low Fellows of no Confequence.
--Thus (fays he) the greatest City in the World
is treated! a City that pays more to the Sup-
'port of the Government, than Paris, Madrid,
Lifbon and Amfterdam, put together, pay to
ir feveral Governments!-In his Journal
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nothing more to do than to expofe the Lift for thefe Reasons to a Piece of low contemptible Ridicule, instead of objecting as the Truth of it, or calling it a Lye. (See p. 131. 152.)
One John Henning who lodged with Mrs Mills, an elderly Gentlewoman at Barnwood, Gloucestersh. and rented 127. per Ann. broke open her Box, and stole thereout in Plate and Money to the Value of 40 l. in lieu whereof he left her the following Confolatory Letter: MADAM, Lay not up Treasures upon Earth, where Meth and Ruft doth corrupt and where Thieves do break through and flcal. But &c. Matt. vi. 19, 20. He transcribes from Scripture other Verfes, viz. Eccl. ii. 21, 23. ii. 13. then goes on, What foerver thou findest in thy Hand to do &c. I hope thefe frivolous and fudden Removeables will put you in mind that you have here no continuing City, and itir you up to live fo holily, that was God at any time to fay, This Night hall thy Soul be required of thee, you might with Pleasure fay, Lo, I come. Then fellow more Scriptures, viz. Hb. xiii 5. Luke vi. 36. Pf. xxxvii. 7. and concludes, Refolve not to be discour
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