There was a Fellow near, an artful Knave,
Who knew the plan, and much assistance gave;
He wrote the Puffs, and every Talent plied
To make it sell: it sold, and then he died.

Now all the Profit fell to Ned's controul,
And Pride and Av'rice quarrel'd for his Soul;
When mighty Profits by the Trash were made,
Pride built a Palace, Avarice groan'd and paid;
Pride plac'd the signs of Grandeur all about,
And Avarice barr'd his Friends and Children out.

Now see him Doctor! yes, the idle Fool,
The Butt, the Robber of the Lads at School;
Who then knew nothing, nothing since acquir'd,
Became a Doctor, honour'd and admir'd ;

His Dress, his Frown, his Dignity were such,

Some who had known him thought his Knowledge much;
Nay, Men of Skill, of Apprehension quick,
Spite of their. Knowledge, trusted him when sick:
Though he could neither reason, write nor spell,
They yet had hope his Trash would make them well;
And while they scorn'd his Parts, they took his Oxymel.
Oh! when his Nerves had once receiv'd a shock,
Sir Isaac Newton might have gone to Rock*;
Hence Impositions of the grossest kind,
Hence Thought is feeble, Understanding blind ;
Hence Sums enormous by these Cheats are made,
And Deaths unnumber'd by their dreadful Trade.

* An empirick who flourished at the same time with this great

man.

Alas! in vain is my contempt exprest,
To stronger Passions are their words addrest;
To Pain, to Fear, to Terror their Appeal,

To those who, weakly reasoning, strongly feel.

What then our Hopes?-Perhaps there may by Law Be method found, these Pests to curb and awe; Yet in this Land of Freedom, Law is slack With any Being to commence attack;

Then let us trust to Science-there are those

Who can their Falsehoods and their Frauds disclose,
All their vile Trash detect, and their low Tricks expose:
Perhaps their Numbers may in time confound
Their Arts-as Scorpions give themselves the Wound;
For when these Curers dwell in every Place,
While of the Cur'd we not a Man can trace,
Strong Truth may then the public Mind persuade,
And spoil the Fruits of this nefarious Trade.

No extensive Manufactories in the Borough: yet considerable Fortunes made there.-Ill Judgment of Parents in disposing of their Sons.-The best educated not the most likely to succeed. -Instance.-Want of Success compensated by the lenient power of some Avocations.-The Naturalist.-The Weaver an Entomologist, &c.-Hunting Butterflies, &c.-A Prize-Flower.-Story of Walter and William.