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THE BIRTH, PARENTAGE, and EDUCATION, OF PRAISE-GOD BAREBONE.

To which is added, An ELECTION BALLAD, OR The LAMENTATION of Miss * * * * * * *. A true but doleful Ditty.

Printed for JACK NORTHWESTER, at the Sign of the White-Oak in Heart of Oak Street, MDCCLXVI.

[Page ii]

PREFACE, OR AN APOLOGY for writing the Life of PRAISE-GOD BAREBONE. *

REVENGE, by nature, animates each breast,
As fierce in man, as in the savage beast:
Ev'n the vile reptile feels this passion strong;
The abject Worm resents injurious wrong.
Does not the Wasp, provok'd, dart forth his sting?
The patient Swan will sometimes arm his wing.
Nature's the same in All—What wretch so low
Not to rataliate, or resent a blow?
Why then must I alone to insult yield,
And use no arms but the defensive shield?
Shall coward Scandal dare to wound my name,
Publish dis-praise and privately defame?
And blast, by falsehood, what's my greatest good,
A reputation dearer than my blood?
Shall sons of Belial saucily presume,
While I must sit, like patience on a tomb?
No:—to rataliate is a nat'ral law;
Reason, in self-defence, the sword will draw.
Arms less offensive to the Bard belong;
The Pen alone must vindicate his wrong:
Thus, like the fretful Porcupine's, his quill,
Venom'd with gall, his vengeance must fulfil.
Revenge, like Honor, has some noble laws;
Arm me then, Satire, and maintain my cause.
[Page 3]

The Birth, Parentage, and Education of PRAISE-GOD BAREBONE.

TO paint a Puritan, a queer one,
An holy knave, a Prysbyterian,
Teach me, Erynnis, for you dwell
'Mongst many Roundheads sent to hell.
I ask not now your aid to sing
The worse than murder of our king;
Nor yet the Regicides, old Lambert,
Cromwell, or Bradshaw, now all damn'd for
No solemn covenant of the kirk,
To make rebellion holy work;
Nor the committee's pious board,
Who robb'd the church to serve the Lord;
With eyes turn'd up, devour'd the land,
Then prais'd their God's all-bounteous hand:
Nor yet the downfal of the Rump,
Worn by long sessions to the stump:
Awhile we'll wave these lofty themes,
These cursed principles and schemes.
Suffice it now we draw a saint▪
Of gesture prim, and visage quaint;
With short blue cloak, and prudish band,
And warning hour-glass in his hand:
A little * Smec. the epitome
Of Puritan hypocrisy.
[Page 4]Or, as some say, the true descendant
Of him , who fought for Bear defendant.
Yet for his race, it matters not
Of whom, or where he was begot;
Tho' Fame proclaims, by lower trump,
That he was issue of the rump.
Spawn'd in Fleet-ditch the Brat was found,
Wrapt in a smock, yet almost drown'd:
Thence Mother Kirk, like PHARAOH's daughter,
Sav'd him, by Proverb, from the water▪
But as it is the Tyburn fashion
Always to sing the education,
Tricks, principles, and pedigree,
Of such as grace the triple tree,
As well as dress of ev'ry Smart,
Who makes his exit from the cart;
So shall our Muse, in doggrel verse,
Her hero's history rehearse.
PRAISE-GOD, the Brat was called; a name,
Among fanaticks, of great fame:
So call'd, in mem'ry of the event,
When at his birth a B—was sent,
Which by a fost'ring Mother's help,
Might save and suckle the young whelp:
Thus when Rome's Founders sprawling lay,
Expos'd in woods, it chanc'd, that way
A prowling Wolf came passing by,
Which on the Bantlings cast an eye:
She paw'd, and lickt, and seem'd to hug
The Cubs, who hung about her dug:
Thus was the infant PRAISE-GOD nurs'd,
To head, in time, the League accurs'd.
Near to the place renown'd of old,
(The nurs'ry of many a scold)
Tradition says there was a den,
[Page 5]Like that which CACUS skulk'd in, when
ALCIDES came to search the place,
Where he his cattle stol'n could trace,
Which, VIRGIL says, so stunk and smoak'd,
That HERCULES was almost choak'd.
This was the den design'd by fate
For Bare-bone lodge, call'd Billingsgate.
Hither the Dam brought home her young,
And laid him on a bed of dung;
Having observ'd that Beggars suck,
Like roots, much nourishment from muck:
But she forgot that the infection
Of dunghill-steams would spoil complexion;
Wherefore, alas! her little Bumkin
Grew up in colour like a pumpkin.
Yet well he throve in strength and stature;
No sucking pig could well be fatter:
For, as old CHIRON fed ACHILLES
With lion's, and with bear-bone jellies,
So to young PRAISE-GOD oft was thrown
A bullock's pluck, or marrow-bone.
Hence he was big at six, or seven,
As other younkers at eleven;
And always prone to kick, and cuff,
Prov'd he was made of rumpish stuff.
Ere he was Ten, he wax'd so stout
That he would join in ev'ry rout,
Whene'er, to serve the holy cause,
The Saints defy'd their country's laws.
Such too his early zeal 'gainst vice,
Whoring, and drunkenness, and dice,
First Mob he was, whene'er a nest
Of Whores, or Gamesters was opprest.
Yet once he was so over good,
He'd like to have suffer'd in the bud;
For in the plunder of the stews,
He hardly could escape the noose.
Once he was taken in the lurch,
For breaking windows of the church,
[Page 6]And sent to Durance; yet at th' age
Of scarce twelve years he broke the cage.
At length so head-strong he was grown,
So much the Terror of the Town,
That ev'n his Dam began to dread,
And tremble for his yellow head:
The Saints too fear'd his forward zeal
Might hurt the Cause of Common-weal▪
Therefore, to save their darling hope
From danger of th' impending rope,
Summons were issu'd thro' the Sect
For solemn Synod of th' Elect.
Bring to your mind th' infernal crew,
Which MILTON sets before your view,
When he describes th' Apostate-Board
All-hailing Satan as their Lord.
Such was this gloomy Meeting; sate
T' advise, propound, to weigh, debate.
How to secure from Hangman's claws,
The hop'd Messiah of their cause.
It would be tedious to report
The whole proceedings of the court;
In which each canting whining Knave,
Formal and slow, his sentence gave:
Long the debates tho' nothing worth;
At last the Mountain did bring forth:
This was, in short, the sage event,
'That PRAISE-GOD should with speed be sent
'Under the care of Titus Oates.'
With this decree, by way of notice;
'The Tutor must take care to teach
'His Pupil all the—abuse of speech;
'To hum, and haw, to whine, and cant,
'To sigh, or groan, to howl, or rant:'
But this was special in the charge,
'T' instruct him how to Lye at large,
'And Swear, as Oates himself best knew,
'Whene'er a Plot was in their view.
'Further to teach him the grimace,
[Page 7]'And odd distortions of the face;
'To roll his eye-balls to the lid,
'Till all the rest but white was hid;
'To force a tear at neighbour's woes,
'And how to trumpet thro' the nose:
'In short, that system of deceit,
'Which forms the Puritan complete.'
Lastly 'twas hinted by the bye,
'That if young PRAISE-GOD shou'n't comply,
'Then, as a last resource, his Elder
'Should take th' assistance of a gelder.'
For, said a Synodal, 'Forsooth!
(And 'gainst his custom he spoke truth)
'Brethren, the passions of the Brute
'Are cur'd by striking at the root.
'Do not the Jockeys take this course
'To brake the mettle of an horse?
'Yet why need I attempt to show,
'What all our holy Elders know?
'Was not a proof but lately seen
'In the surprise of Brother * Green?
'Why did he, Lord, prefer a Mare?
'Our Sisters are not cruel fair:
'Whence could th' impetuous zeal proceed?
'The Colt's tooth was not in his head:
'Th' event too plainly has reveal'd,
'Where all his passion was conceal'd,
'For since the lucky operation,
'He lately suffer'd of Castration,
'How calm he is, how cool you see;
'A very Saint for Apathy.
'Hence, by our own experience wise,
'This Operation I advise,
'As a last method of correction,
'To break the Rampant to subjection.
[Page 8]'For PRAISE-GOD'S sake I've laid before ye
'A fact, on which the Churchmen glory:
'I mean not to upbraid a Brother,
'We Saints must one forgive another:
'I own it was a common slip;
'This was the crime,—he gave a Leap
'Unto our foe, a Cavalier;
'But had he leap'd a Brother's mare,
'With us so kind, tho' frail an act
'Would have excus'd th' indecent fact.'
The Brethren all confest the truth;
Therefore in fondness for the Youth,
Held it quite proper in their votes,
To give this bye advice to Oates.
This was to * Athens sending Owls;
TITUS but smil'd at all their rules;
By yellow symptoms on the head,
He knew young BARE-BONE was true bred.
'A Rump-bred Brat, he said t'himself,
'Will make a Saint in hope of pelf:
'To play the cheat will be no pain,
'Where Godliness is sure of gain:
'Yet should that grand temptation fail,
'This glorious bait will sure prevail,
'That, by obedience to my rules,
'He may become the head of Fools.'
Well did he argue, nor in vain,
There was no need of spur, or rein;
The crafty BARE-BONE found out soon,
That he was under charge of one,
Who only sought to teach him, what
With his own genius curried pat:
Therefore in all things he obey'd,
And soon was Master of his Trade.
[Page 9]For when he saw he still might be
As much a knave as formerly,
If he would only ware a cloak,
He thought resistance was a joak:
And since the Art was, to disguise,
Not to forego the Lust of Vice;
He made no boggle at the Feint,
To be a Dev'l, and seem a Saint.
Therefore, whene'er he meant to sin,
With formal pray'r he would begin:
If Whoring was the vice in hand,
Thus, for a pause, he'd make a stand;
And ask an Erige in pray'r,
Like the petition of Ld. * May'r:
Or 'stead of—Peace be to this bed,
Would beg of heav'n a M * * *.
This was his zealous exclamation,
'Lord, we adore thy fair creation!
'Woman to Man, O God, thou'st giv'n,
'Yet marriage is not know in heav'n;
'Then Whoring is thy will, 'tis plain,
'For Woman was not made in vain.
'And if the vulgar may refresh,
'With the enjoyments of the Flesh,
'Much more should Saints have recreation
'In the dear Act of Propagation.
'St. Paul too's christian rule is this,
"Salute the Sisters with a Kiss:"
'Now, my good Lord, I can't believe,
'St. Paul intended to deceive
'The Saints and Sisters with a bob;
'To bid, and yet forbid the job:
'This won't be using Brethren well,
[Page 10]'But rather like the * Man in hell;
'Just at whose lips was set a treat,
'O [...] which the wretch was not to eat.
'Thou, bounteous Lord, art not so cruel,
'You give that men should eat, the gruel.'
Whene'er he robb'd a neighbour friend,
He did it for some pious end,
And held i [...] righteous to purloin
A Churchman's cattle, or his coin,
Lest, in the hands of such a Turk,
They might be us'd against the Kirk:
Yea of times would employ the pelf,
Still for his good, against himself.
Sometimes he'd steal a silver bowl,
Only to save the owner's soul:
And when he justly robb'd the poor,
'Twas but to make 'em work the more▪
Whene'er he stabb'd a wicked foe,
That it was Charity, he'd show;
Lest, in the way which he was in,
He should proceed in paths of Sin;
Therefore he kill'd him for his good,
To save his soul he took his blood.
Thus for each sin he'd quote a text,
The cause of G—d was his pretext:
Thus would he name, and praise his Lord,
For ev'ry vice upon record.
In Dress too he appear'd devout;
He knew Fools judge by things without.
A broad-brim hat his brows o'erspread,
Like an Umbrella o'vr his head:
From which a conic tow'r uprose,
At least a foot above his nose:
A close-stool-pan, turn'd upside down,
Was the best likeness of his crown:
[Page 11]What made the Simile more pat,
Was, that beneath the brims o'th' hat
Some § yellow knots of hair were seen,
As if the stool-pan was not clean.
Under his chin, at Holy-tide,
A little, prim, starch'd band was ty'd:
But when the Elders kept a feast,
A larger Bib secur'd his breast.
Whene'er he minister'd the Word,
Or did the service of the Lord,
He would not put the beastly * Rag on;
(Apocryphal as Bell and Dragon.)
No.—a short cloak of rusty sable
Better became their Common Table.
A short blue Cloak the Lord approves,
Blue is the colour, which he loves;
But the white Surplice, which Rome wears,
Shall damn her in her very pray'rs.
The Cloak then, as a badge o'th' Sect,
Is sacred held among th' Elect.
But PRAISE-GOD had another coat
For common wear, not worth a groat:
It once was Mourning, when in dumps
He wept the Burning of the Rumps;
But now pile lost, thread-bare, seams grey,
It look'd a Scare-crow in decay.
Yet all this shabbiness of Dress
Was but a trick of his finesse,
To make the round-head rabble think,
A Man so meek woun't use their chink
For any expences of his own,
[Page 12]Who seem'd to live on bread alone.
By such like arts each lambskin knave
Cajoles the sheep he would enslave.
Thus PRAISE-GOD knew, his coat without,
Made Prudes believe he was devout:
And, as it spoke him meek and poor,
He found his Flock would give the more.
How much his Weeds his heart bely'd!
The rags were but a cloak to pride.
His waistcoat too would hardly reach
Quite to the cov'ring of his breech.
Readers must own this sable suit,
Was but a very thin Surtout,
They will not wonder then to find
Another Jerkin still behind,
A little Body-coat within,
Which he always wore next his skin.
This was a kind of a Dragoon,
A coat, or shirt, or both in one:
'Twas made of flannel to give heat,
And at the same time dry up sweat;
Yet at the parts, which most were shone,
A bit of Irish-cloth was sown,
For bosom, tail, and sleeves, and neck,
Tho' there was no shirt to his back.
The trowzers, which enwrapt his thighs,
Were of a monstrous o'ergrown size:
For these did serve as magazine,
To keep his meat and plunder in.
The pantaloons were larger much
Than fashion of the Holland Dutch;
And reason good, tho' known to few,
To hide his hocks from public view;
For they so shambled were, and crookt,
That worse than * Richard's legs they lookt.
Whether the Fates hereby design'd,
[Page 13]To shew an emblem of his Mind;
Or whether, as some Augurs hold,
By this his Greatness they foretold;
Who say, that as at first the ways
To Fame are crooked like a maze;
Or as the great coelestial bow
To Noah signs of hope did show;
Or as in Buildings it is seen,
The best on arches do begin;
So did the arches of his hocks,
(As bases to his capital locks)
Presage a future strength of head;
Which of a Key-stone stood in stead.
Two gouty shoes of softest leather,
By litle clasps scarce pinn'd together,
Nicely were made to hide from view
That part which * Satan cannot do.
Thus was he dress'd from head to hoof;
Above 'twas shewn, he was full proof
In ev'ry vice, in ev'ry art,
To play the hypocritic part;
Of seeming Patriot to embroil
A factious state in civil coil:
Or, by pretext of his devotions,
To propagate dissenting notions;
To raise alarms, dissemble fears,
Only to set men by the ears.
Thus all-accomplish'd in each cheat,
Which makes a Presbyterian great,
TITUS, in hopes of a reward
For the tuition of his▪ Ward,
Restor'd him with this commendation,
Spoke to the Synod as Oration.
'Most holy, and most honour'd Seers,
'In ev'ry plot our grand Compeers,
[Page 14]'Lo! I present to you a Youth,
'As ye would wish, a foe to truth.
'Vers'd as I am, and taught by years
'To undermine the Cavaliers;
'Experienc'd well in ev'ry wile,
'Which may a friend, or foe, beguile;
'Yet, on my CONSCIENCE, it is true,
'Th' infernal palm is PRAISE-GOD'S due▪
'By ev'ry Regicide I swear,
'Your second Beelzebub stands here:
'And to do justice to his merit,
'None is so worthy to inherit
'Th' exalted station of . . . .
Here the M. S. being imperfect, a Critic, by a bold conjecture, thus attempts to supply the hiatus,
. . . . . the gallows,
The due reward of all such Fellows.
[Page 15]

An ELECTION BALLAD, OR THE LAMENTATION of Miss * * * * * * *, on being dis­appointed by JOHNNY VAIN, alias, JOHNNY PI­TYFUL, who had told her that, as he was sure of carrying his Election, he was determined upon giving a Ball to their Wisdoms and Betternesses, and that SHE should be his Partner.

To the Tune of kitty Fell.
1.
WHILE gentle Swains, in Willow Groves,
Of cruel Maids and [...]lighted Loves,
In Songs and Sighs complain;
My pensive Verse shall mourn the Youth,
For Speeches fam'd, and Want of Truth,
Ah luckless Iohnny Vain;
Luckless Johnny, Lovely Johnny,
Ah! Luckless Johnny, Johnny Vain.
2.
I hop'd indeed he would be chose
Our Member, Spight of all his Foes;
Ah! me I hop'd in vain:
In vain with * Blue I deck'd my Hair,
[Page 16]In hopes to be the Fav'rite Fair
And dance with Iohnny Vain.
Luckless Johnny, lovely Johnny▪
Ah! luckless Johnny, Johnny Vain.
3.
His Cash, that he might gain their Aid
To Presbyter'ans Fund * was paid,
Ah, hang the venal Train!
For this what else could he expect,
But that firm Patr'ots should reject
Poor turncoat Iohnny Vain.
Turncoat Johnny, Luckless Johnny,
Ah! Turncoat Johnny Johnny Vain.
4.
You sweet Miss F—ks, who (when you please)
Can sing with so much Grace and Ease,
Oh! trill you softest Strain;
Dear Go—er—or your Fiddle take
Bid all the Powers of Musick wake,
To sooth poor Iohnny Vain,
Angry Johnny, Luckless Johnny,
Ah! Angry Johnny, Johnny Vain.
[Page 17]
5.
Another Trial might I guess,
May meet, perhaps with more Success,
Ah try it once again:
Perhaps bold Gall'way may not dare,
Perhaps Squire Ross may then not care,
T'oppose my Iohnny Vain.
Luckless Johnny Lovely Johnny,
Ah! Luckless Johnny, Johnny Vain.

ERRATA.

Page 3 Note, for Cable read Cabal. Page 9 Line 20 for know read known.

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