The Works of Mr. Thomas Brown: The Odes of Horace translated. Martial's translated Epigrams. Fables. Miscellanies. Dialogues of the dead, in imitation of Lucian. A supplement...v.5. Prophesies...Legacy for the ladies, or characters of the women of the age
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Page 123 - If your friend is in want, don't carry him to the tavern, where you treat yourself as well as him, and entail a thirst and headache upon him next morning. To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, or fill his snuffbox, is like giving a pair of lace ruffles to a man that has never a shirt on his back. Put something into his pocket.
Page 104 - We, by Experience, find it true, But we have Methods wholly new, Strange late-invented Ways to thrive, To make Men pay for what they give, To get the Rents into our Hands Of their hereditary Lands, And out of what does thence arise, To make 'em buy Annuities. We've mathematick Combination, To cheat Folks by plain Demonstration, Which shall be fairly manag'd too, The Undertaker knows not how.
Page 128 - Divine ought to calculate his sermon, as an astrologer does his almanack to the meridian of the place and people where he lives.
Page 333 - From hence you may look back on civil rage And view the ruins of the former age. Here a New World its glories may unfold, And here be sav'd the remnants of the Old. But while your...
Page 113 - OUR fathers took oaths, as of old they took wives, To have and to hold, for the term of their lives: But we take our oaths as our whores for our ease; And a whore and a rogue may part when they please.
Page 50 - ... within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick upon Tweed, and the islands of Jersey or Guernsey ; any law or usage to the contrary notwithstanding.
Page 76 - In vain his drugs as well as Birch he try'd— His boys grew blockheads, and his patients dy'd. Next he turn'd Bard, and, mounted on a cart, Whose hideous rumbling made Apollo start, Burlesqued the Bravest, Wisest son of Mars, In ballad rhymes, and all the pomp of Farce.
Page 70 - Boys, fill all the glasses, Fill them up now he shines; The higher he rises, The more he refines; For wine and wit fall As their maker declines.
Page 311 - A man of true piety, that has no defigns to carry on, like one of an eftablifhed fortune, always makes the leaft noife. One never pulls out his money, the other never talks of religion, but when there is occasion for it.
Page 51 - A rich man, what is he? Has he a frame Distinct from others ? or a better name ? Has he more legs, more arms, more eyes, more brains ? Has he less care, less crosses, or less pains :' Can riches keep the mortal wretch from death ? Or can new treasures purchase a new breath ? Or does Heaven send its love and mercy more To Mammon's pamper'd sons than to the poor ? If not, why should the fool take so much state, Exalt himself, and others under-rate...