in't? Oh fie, no; what, the _Moralist_! _Reformer_ of _Vices_! Speak
_Blasphemy_! Impossible! he can't sure! Yes, yes, he may, when he thinks
no body can find him out: and faith, to my sence now, this smells as
rank of _Pandemonium_, of fire and brimstone, to the full, if not worse,
than Mr. _Dryden_'s Verse, _Whether inspir'd with a Diviner Lust his
father got him_, &c. [Footnote: Absalom _and_ Achit.] which is spoken
only in the figurative Person of _David_; yet he says 'tis _downright
defiance of the Living God, and the very Essence and Spirit of
Blasphemy_. [Footnote: Collier _p. 184._] And here now his Stomach
wambled more terribly than before; so that if his Friend were by, he
must of necessity hold the Bason. Oh me! he reaches and reaches, and
first up comes--egh--_I question whether_--egh--_the torments and
despair of the Damn'd_--egh--_dare venture at such flights as these_.
And now the Head being held by the same hand, at two reaches more it
comes all up, mix'd with a Tincture of old _Bonner_ again--egh--
_I can't forbear saying, that the next bad thing to writing these
Impieties_--egh--_is to suffer them_. And now the Fit's over, leaving
us to imagine what rare Church Discipline we should have, if this
Gentleman, and his Cat with nine Tails, were in Power; I think a Couplet
or two here, by way of Advice to him, is not improper.

Your Tribe should all be in Opinion steady,
Not turn or wind for Power or for Place,
Nor covet Wealth but in Spiritual Grace.
The Gifts of _Mammon_ you should ne'r implore,
Nor wish for Gold, unless to give the Poor;
It makes your Art contemptible appear,
Less follow'd too, and look'd into more near;
For if all those that preach up Paradise,
Will have their shares of every human Vice,