[47] Whoe'er you are that have a Seat secure,
Duly return'd, and from Petition sure,
Stick to your Friends in whatsoe'er you say;
With strong aversion shun the Middle way:
The Middle way the best we sometimes call,
But 'tis in Politicks no way at all.
A Trimmer's what both Parties turn to sport,
By Country hated, and despis'd at Court.
Who would in earnest to a Party come,
Must give his Vote, not whimsical, but plumb.
There is no Medium: for the term in vogue
On either side is, Honest Man, or Rogue.
Can it be difficult our Minds to show,
Where all the Difference is, Yes, or No?
[48] In all Professions, Time and Pains give Skill,
Without hard Study, dare Physicians kill?
Can he that ne'er read Statutes or Reports,
Give Chamber-Counsel, or urge Law in Courts?
But ev'ry Whipster knows Affairs of State,
Nor fears on nicest Subjects to debate.
A Knight of eighteen hundred pounds a year—
Who minds his Head, if his Estate be clear?
Sure he may speak his mind, and tell the House,
He matters not the Government a Louse.
Lack-learning Knights, these things are safely said
To Friends in private, at the Bedford-Head:
But in the House, before your Tongue runs on,
Consult Sir James, Lord William's dead and gone.
Words to recall is in no Member's power,
One single word may send you to the Tower.
[49] The wrong'd to help, the lawless to restrain,
Thrice ev'ry Year, in ancient Egbert's Reign,
The Members to the Mitchelgemot went,
In after Ages call'd the Parliament;
Early the Mitchelgemot did begin
T' enroll their Statutes, on a Parchment Skin:
For impious Treason hence no room was left,
For Murder, for Polygamy, or Theft:
Since when the Senates power both Sexes know
From Hops and Claret, Soap and Callico.
Now wholesom Laws young Senators bring in
'Gainst Goals, Attornies, Bribery, and Gin.
Since such the nature of the British State,
The power of Parliament so old and great,
Ye 'Squires and Irish Lords, 'tis worth your care )
To be return'd for City, Town, or Shire, )
By Sheriff, Bailiff, Constable, or Mayor. )
[50] Some doubt, which to a Seat has best Pretence,
A man of Substance, or a man of Sense:
But never any Member feats will do,
Without a Head-piece and a Pocket too;
Sense is requir'd the depth of Things to reach,
And Money gives Authority to Speech.
[51] A Man of Bus'ness won't 'till ev'ning dine;
Abstains from Women, Company, and Wine:
From Fig's new Theatre he'll miss a Night,
Tho' Cocks, and Bulls, and Irish Women fight:
Nor sultry Sun, nor storms of soaking Rain,
The Man of Bus'ness from the House detain:
Nor speaks he for no reason but to say,
I am a Member, and I spoke to day.
I speak sometimes, you'll hear his Lordship cry,
Because Some speak that have less Sense than I.
[52] The Man that has both Land and Money too
May wonders in a Trading Borough do:
They'll praise his Ven'son, and commend his Port, )
Turn their two former Members into Sport, )
And, if he likes it, Satyrize the Court. )
But at a Feast 'tis difficult to know
From real Friends an undiscover'd Foe;
The man that swears he will the Poll secure,
And pawns his Soul that your Election's sure,
Suspect that man: beware, all is not right,
He's, ten to one, a Corporation-Bite.
[53] Alderman Pond, a downright honest Man,
Would say, I cannot help you, or I can:
To spend your Money, Sir, is all a jest;
Matters are settled, set your heart at rest:
We've made a Compromise, and, Sir, you know,
That sends one Member High, and t'other Low.
But if his good Advice you would not take,
He'd scorn your Supper, and your Punch forsake:
Leave you of mighty Interest to brag,
And poll two Voices like Sir Robert Fag. [lii]
[54] Parliamenteering is a sort of Itch,
That will too oft unwary Knights bewitch.
Two good Estates Sir Harry Clodpole spent;
Sate thrice, but spoke not once, in Parliament:
Two good Estates are gone—Who'll take his word?
Oh! should his Uncle die, he'd spend a third:
He'd buy a House, his happiness to crown,
Within a mile of some good Borough-Town;
Tag, Rag, and Bobtail to Sir Harry's run,
Men that have Votes, and Women that have none:
Sons, Daughters, Grandsons, with his Honour dine;
He keeps a Publick-House without a Sign.
Coolers and Smiths extol th' ensuing Choice,
And drunken Taylors boast their right of Voice.
Dearly the free-born neighbourhood is bought,
They never leave him while he's worth a groat:
So Leeches stick, nor quit the bleeding wound,
Till off they drop with Skinfuls to the ground.