as, when you'd have compounded
For less than Charley Grattan's school!
Five hundred pound a-year's no fool!
Take this advice then from your friend,
To your ambition put an end,
Be frugal, Pat: pay what you owe,
Before you build and you bestow.
Be modest, nor address your betters
With begging, vain, familiar letters.
A passage may be found,[7] I've heard,
In some old Greek or Latian bard,
Which says, "Would crows in silence eat
Their offals, or their better meat,
Their generous feeders not provoking
By loud and inharmonious croaking,
They might, unhurt by Envy's claws,
Live on, and stuff to boot their maws."

[Footnote 1: "King Henry the Fourth," Part I, Act ii,
Scene 4.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 2: Adapted from Hor., "Epist. ad Pisones," 140.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 3: See the "Petition to the Duke of Grafton," _post_,
p. 345.--_W. E. B._]

[Footnote 4: Alluding to Dr. Delany's ambitious choice of fixing in the
island of the Lake of Erin, where Sir Ralph Gore had a villa.--_Scott_.]

[Footnote 5: When residing at Chester, he obliged eight of his tributary
princes to row him in a barge upon the Dee. Hume's "History of England,"
vol. i, p. 106.--_W. E. B_.]

[Footnote 6: Which had suddenly dried up. See _post_, vol. ii, "Verses on
the sudden drying up of St. Patrick's Well, near Trinity College,
Dublin."--_W.E.B._]

[Footnote 7: Hor., "Epist.," lib. I, xvii, 50.
"Sed tacitus pasci si corvus posset, haberet
Plus dapis, et rixae multo minus invidiaeque."
I append the original, for the sake of Swift's very free
rendering.--_W. E. B._]

A LIBEL
ON THE REVEREND DR. DELANY, AND HIS EXCELLENCY JOHN, LORD CARTERET
1729

Deluded mortals, whom the great
Choose for companions _tete-a-tete_;
Who at their dinners, _en famille_,
Get leave to sit whene'er you will;
Then boasting tell us where you dined,
And how his lordship was so kind;
How many pleasant things he spoke;
And how you laugh'd at every joke:
Swear he's a most facetious man;
That you and he are cup and can;
You travel with a heavy load,
And quite mistake preferment's road.
Suppose my lord and you alone;
Hint the least interest of your own,
His visage drops, he knits his brow,
He cannot talk of business now:
Or, mention but a vacant post,
He'll turn it off with "Name your toast:"
Nor could the nicest artist paint
A countenance with more constraint.
For, as their appetites to quench,
Lords keep a pimp to bring a wench;
So men