The bloody masters of the martial trade, are praised for mischief, and for murders paid. The noisy lawyers, if they can but bawl, soon grace the wool-sacks, and adorn the hall. The envied great, those darling Sons of Fame, who carry a majestic terror in their name, who like the demy Gods are placed on high, and seem the' exalted natives of the sky, who swayed by pride, and by self-love betrayed, are slaves to their imperious passions made, are with a servile awe by you revered, praised for their follies, for their vices feared.

The courtier, who with every wind can veer, and midst the mounting waves can safely steer, who all can flatter; and with wondrous grace, low cringing bows, and a designing face, a smiling look, and a dissembled hate, can hug a friend, and hasten on his fate, has your applause, his policy you praise, and to the skies his prudent conduct raise, the scholar, if he can a verb decline, and has the skill to reckon nine times nine, or but the Nature of a fly define, can mouth some Greek, and knows where Athens stood, tho' he perhaps is neither wise, nor good, is fit for Oxford; where when he has been, each college viewed, and each grave doctor seen, he mounts a pulpit, and the' exalted height makes vapors dance before his troubled sight, and he no more can see, nor think aright.

Yet such as these your consciences do guide, and or'e your actions and your words preside, blame you for faults which they themselves commit, arraign your judgment, and condemn your wit, instill their notions with the greatest ease, and hood-winked lead you where so ever they please, The formal justice, and the jolly knight, who in their money place their chief delight, who watch the kitchen, and survey the Field, to see what each will to their luxury yield, who eat and pun, then quarrel, rail and drink, but never are at leisure once to think.