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Then what ensues? like Richard for his horse.
The horned Husband cries, divorce, divorce;
Flies to the Commons*, spends his money there,
And, sanction'd by the Lords, parts with his fair.

So even justice having made one—two,
Religion sanctions what the laws undo:'
And thus th' adult'rer, who the wife purloin'd,
By holy wedlock's to th' adult'ress join'd.

Whene'er she strives to ape the prude,

Be bold: you cunnot be too rude.

But when she vows she'll naught permit,

She means to ask, and will submit;

For all her practice is but guile;

Tis nay for yea, and frown for smile. * It is surely a very hard case that a poor man should be compelled to wear his antlers, without being permitted to butt with them; leaving him to exclaim with Lucio, in Measure for Measure, "Married to a punk is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging." But such is however the case, since none who cannot well pay for their sport, are entitled to redress from the gentlemen of the Commons; consequently in this particular the great and the rich have the best of it; and it is doubtless, on this account, they make so light of publicity in matters of love; as they delicately term such gross dereliction from conjugal duties.

L'envoy OF THE POET,

RearM in the paths of chastity, a wife

Should guard her honour and her husband's fame;

And teach her children that a spotless life Entails bliss here—hereafter a good name.

THE POET'S CHORUS TO FOOLS.

Come, trim the boat, row on each Rara Avis. Crowds flock to man my StultiferaN avis.

SECTION VIII.

OP FOOLS WHO CONTEMN AND DESPISE RELIGION.

Parcus deorum cultor, et infrequens insanientis dum sapientiae consultus erro; nunc retrorsum vela dare atque iterare cursus cogor relictos.

To taunt religion now a days,

And laugh to scorn all sacred writ;

From ideot tongues ensures loud praise,
And passes for consummate wit.

The Church, with ev'ry form of Pray'r,
For reason's Temple * men disdain;

And turn to jest the pastor's care,

Because some points he can't explain.

* Much has been, and is said, of the Age of Reason— the Temple of Reason, and the Goddess of Reason, yet it is not a little to be wondered at, that those very beings who so constantly make these their themes are in themselves, the most unreasonable, for while maintaining strenuously such opinions, they nevertheless allow, that if the

"What," cries the Deist, with a sneer, "Redemption !—Priests may gain their ends;" "But would a parent pay so dear "As give a son to save his friends?"

"A great First Cause", the Atheists cry, "Consummate nonsense to advance;"

"That boundless space which men call sky" "Contains a God—there's none but Chance."

And canst thou jeer at mercy's theme,
Nor think upon thy soul's dread loss?

Canst thou deride, for impious dream,
Thy bleeding Saviour on the Cross;

world was peopled throughout with men who had laid down such principles as the basis of their conduct through life, every human institution would be at an end, and a general scene of devastation characterise the face of nature; but in order to validate this position beyond a doubt, the train of events which disgraced revolutionary France, bid defiance to all contradiction, proving, that those children of Reason were everything but rational, being even debased by enormity that enhorrors human nature. Such then being the case, farewell to Reason, which is not sanctioned by religion, for, Ludere cum sacris never yet was found to constitute a part of the creed of any wise and rational being; but, on the contrary, has been tolerated only by madmen, knaves, and fools.

For shame, for shame, no longer yield,
Thy dormant faith arouse from sleep:

Drive irreligion from the field,

Nor laugh at what made angels weep.

L'envoy Of The Poet.

If doubts assail thee, bid thy reason speak:
This truth must ev'ry wav'ring thought disarm:

That faith whose attribute is mild and meek,
Can only tend to good—not lead to harm.

THE POET'S CHORUS TO FOOLS.

Come trim the boat, row on each Rara Avis, Crowds flock to man my Stultifera Navw.

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