And that it be fome belly-matter;
Suppose then a huge earthen platter,
Your mistress at it eating sprats,
And feeding with the tails her cats.
A fpacious field this to enlarge on,
To fee her broil, and turn, and charge on:
And all her brighter airs difcover,
Perfpicuous to the dulleft lover:
How eagerly, whilft hot, fhe fnaps,
Then fnatches out from fcalded chaps;
Whilft tears bedew her fhining face,
Chang'd by furprize into grimace;
To hear her after, figh in Welsh,
(Which ill-bred clowns will call a belch)
Then all Arabia you may tell,

In fpice and gums, breathes in the smell.
This often hath been done in meeter,

On fuch whofe breaths were not much sweeter.
But these we only touch to fhew,
What one of fancy bright, like you,

May on fuch lofty fubject write, A4 QUATT
Whilft ale infpires, and fumes indite.

An ODE, occafion'd by the late glorious victory.

S in a dark recefs, i

With folemn filence crown'd,

The fad URANIA fat,

And mourn'd the cruel ftroke of fate,
Which in one inaufpicious day,
Snatch'd all the comforts of her life away,

The nymphs who fill her train,

Seek to redress

Her forrows, but, alas! in vain.
They at the awful vifion grow,
With her into one PIECE of WOE,

All fympathizing in a grief profound,
At length thus kind, propitious heav'n,

I

Enough

Enough we've try'd the object of our love,
And prov'd her, by afflictions to the hight,
To make her fhew more bright,

And justly claim her title from above,
By fuffrages, none but a foul divine,
Like hers, cou'd bear, and uneclypfed shine:
But now we'll change the fcene again;
Since wondrously fhe'as born her grief,
By wondrous ways we'll give relief,
Crown'd with a train of joys, in number more,
Than e'er of forrows fhe has felt before,
And be as ready to indulge, as he is to implore.
The lofs he has fuftain'd of late,
Of her unrival'd princely mate,

Shall be made up, by num'rous blessing fhewn,
To children equally her own;

Whom we will daily blefs,

With fuch furprizing turns of wonderful fuccefs,
That forrows never more fhall find a space,
Her comforts to deface,

But he in them, and they in her delight,
And both in fearch of mutual happiness unite;
With wisdom from above we'll her inspire,
And them with pious duty fire.

To their triumphant fwords we'll bind,
Sure victory, which fhall

As oft befall,

As enemies they find:

Heavens faid and roaring thunders round, confirm'd it all for fate.

Hark! hark! the pledge of heav'n is come,

Loud peals of joy prepare,

Its paffage thro' the air,

Whilft the dividing atoms all,

With violence recal,

To give it hafty room.

Great Marlb'rough, and invincible Eugene,
Have wide difplay'd the glorious fcene,

And giv'n a blow hath pierc'd the heart of France,
And ftill on their retiring troops advance.

Rejoice,

Rejoice, ye Britains, the great work's nigh done, Which fhall with glory end. as 'twas with piety begun.

Q. In the last chapter of the fecond book of Samuel, it is faid, the Lord was wrath with David for numbering the people, wherefore he fent a peftilence amongst them, fo that there died of the people 70000. Whether you think they were not happy, fince they died not for their own fins, but for David's imprudence?

A. The deftruction of thofe 700oe, was a punish ment to David, but no other than a misfortune to those unfortunate perfons. But whether they were happy or unhappy after their deceafe, the determination depends upon the nature of their actions: For they who died in a state of impenitence were undoubtedly unhappy, not for David's fin, but their own tranfgreffions. For both parts of the preceding affertion, namely, that the impenitent were unhappy, and that their unhappiness proceeded from their own proper fins, they are both included in that fingle fentence; the foul that finneth, that shall die.

Q. Since ye are fuch dabfiers at tranflation, I would defire you to give a firoke to the underwritten diftich, with - an account of its original:

Vervex cum puero, puer alter, fponfa, maritus,
Cultello, lympha, fune, dolore, cadit.

4. Some think, that the compendious diftich was compos'd by at fchoolboy of the Chartreux-house. But we are apt to think this to be a mistake occafioned by that famous monoftich, Lympha Pudica, &c. which is faid to owe its original to one of that school.

The vulgar account is, that the Devil, under the appearance of an human fhape, upon a contract with "one of Eaton fchool, compos'd the diftich for him. But tho' we cannot rely upon the relation, yet as fome truth may be often found among mingled forgeries, fo this may lead us to a no improbable conjecture, that an Eaton Lad was the author of the ver fes. The tranflation you may have as follows.

Weather with boy, t'other boy, spouse, per mate,
To knife, water, rope, grief, refign their fate.

Q. In 1 Sam. xxi. 1. Ahimelech fays to David, why art thou alone and no man with thee? At verse the 4th, we read of young men that were with David. Pray, how are these two verfes reconcilable ?

A. David was a grandee of the first rank in the court of Saul. And therefore we may fuppofe, that he never travel'd to any distance from the court without a fplendid train, a numerous retinue; well therefore might Ahimelech falute him with the queftion, why art thou alone, and no man with thee? no man in comparifon with what I have reafon to expect.

Q. Your thoughts of a death-bed repentance, whether it be acceptable in the fight of God?

4. Tho' a death-bed repentance were always available to falvation, yet no wife man would venture an eternity on fo hazardous a dye. Who of us can affure our felves, that fome acute diftemper fhall not hurry us away, and give us no warning to make up our accounts, before we go hence, and be no more feen? Who of us can affure our felves, that an untimely death does not await us, that some one of the ten thousand accidents that may befal us, fhall not fummon us from hence in a melancholy moment, and not permit us for much as to make our exit with a Lord have mercy upon my miferable foul? Who of us can affure our felves, that if a leisurely disease shall allow us an opportunity of repentance, we shall yet embrace the opportunity allow'd us, and endeavour to appeafe our offended God? But to the question.

A true, a fincere repentance, at what time foever we fet about it, is available to salvation upon the subLequent account.

No man can truly repent him of his fins without the co-operation of the bleffed Spirit. No man can thus come unto Chrift, unless the Father draw him. But we may depend upon the goodness of the Father, that he will not tantalize any of his creatures, that he will not draw any man to his Son, and yet defign his everlafting ruin,

But

But with what confidence can we hope, that the Father will bring us to repentance, will draw us to his Son, when we have fo long flighted his promifes, defpis'd his threatnings, trampled upon his mercy, defied his juftice, would none of his reproof, and fought not the Lord, while he might be found? With what confidence can we expect to reap, where we have not fown, to gather, where we have not firew'd, to enjoy the prize, before we begin our courfe, to poffefs a crown, before we fight the good fight?

But here it may be perhaps objected, that many actually repent, when the time of their diffolution draweth nigh; that many bewail their fins, bitterly bewail their paft mifcarriages. But alas! may they not bewail, bitterly bewail their fins, without a fincere repentance, without a rightly troubled fpirit, without a truly broken and contrite heart, without that facrifice, which thou, O God, wilt not defpife? fure the natural man, without any divine affistance, may bid adieu to fin, when fin has bid adieu to him; may renounce his once darling vices, when they have loft their imaginary charms, when they are become taftlefs and ungrateful to him; become fo, not as the confequence of his goodness but of his weakness; not as the product of his piety, but of his infirmity. Sure the merely natural man may be able to lament his evil practices, when the punishment of fin is fo very near, is even at the door; when death, when the King of terrors ftares him in the face, when eternity is in view, and the very pains of hell have in a manner taken hold upon him. And that a death-bed repentance is at leaft very often no other than fuch a prefent forrow, fuch a temporary concern, fuch a circumftantiated bewailing, we are unhappily informed by the examples of the many, who upon their recovery return with the dog to the vomit. Antiquum tenent (as the poet expreffes it) go on in their former courfes without an awful dread, left a worse thing should come upon them; and run with their old companions to the fame excess of riot. VOL. III.

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