THE Observator's Catechism Question, WHat's your Name? Answer, Observator. Quest. Who gave you that Name? Ans. My Countryman. Quest. Who's your Countryman? Ans. An honest poor Fellow that I bubble— Lie with his Wife, eat up his Victuals, and drink up his drink; cram his head full of Stratagem and Politics, and drain his Barn to supply my Exchequer: Instead of Tilling and Mannuring his Land to propagate the Increase of the Earth, I send him to prog for Intelligence, and propagate Scandal; which, together with his being naturally of a busy turbulent Spirit, may in time qualify him for my Business▪ if the Aspect of his Affairs, the mean while does not make him turn Wise, before I turn Honest; of which there's most probability. Quest. How d'ye Title yourself to the World? Ans. A Gentleman. Quest. And how does the World Title you? Ans. A Blockhead. Quest. Are you in any Condition in the World? Ans. Yes, in a Shitten one, if the Government lays hold of me again: Nec non, and five false Latin Councillors won't bring me off, with the Additional help of a trusty Whig Friend in H—t's Office— But a pox of the Jest, it has balked the Sale of my Paper since, tho' I put the laudable Name of John Tutchim at the End on't— Witness its being thrown out of Fifty Coffeehouses in Town. Quest. What did its Merit consist in before? Ans. Impudence. Quest. And what has Eclypsed it since? Answ. Dullness— a Consequence as Plain and Natural as the four first Rules of Arithmetic, that when one leaves me, t'other seizes me— for when I am abridged in my Latitude of Scandal, which is my principal Talon, I grow dull as naturally, as I grow drunk with my Country Man's October: Nor has that Power to inspire me with any Eloquence, unless I may join a little Impudence to help it out. Railing is my Genius, and Scurrility and Reproaches, the natural Product of my Brain:— I turned Poet too, but having nothing but Scandal to qualify my Muse, Apollo had like to've broke my head with my own Standish. Quest. Who employed you to write against the Playhouse? Ans Myself. Quest. And who paid you for it? Ans. George P— e, when he scoured me over Lambeth-Marsh, with an Execution at my Heels; leaving the dearest Friends I had upon Earth in a praemunire— Meaning my worldly Movables; and rubbing to the Mint, in as pitiful a Condition, as when I left my Lodging in Southwark, and repaired to honest Will. Fuller near the Fleet, with all my Furnitude and Apparel in a sheet of Brown-Paper. Quest. Why did not you take Satisfaction for this affront? Ans. Even Sawney's Reason— because I durst not, having but too lately suffered under the violent Hands of a Sea Here, whom I had drenched in an Ocean of Scandal. Quest. Have you any Courage? Ans. Yes, but there's no Body believes it but my Countryman. Who believes any thing, I say— and yet I have said as much in praise of my own Valour, as ever was said of that clambering Hero Prince Eugene's— Nay, I had the Courage t'other day in my Observator, to give a certain Person of Note the Lie, for saying, I was an approved Coward; where I proved the Gentleman's Words true, tho' it had not been done before— For if I'd had the Courage of an angry Cat, I had told him so to his Face, and not in Print— But let others draw their Swords— I'll stab with my Pen, and when Scandal and Invectives fail me, I'll appeal to my Oaken Towel, a Weapon, adapted more suitably to my unwieldy Bulk— which I presume those, who gave me the Title of Labourer had been made acquainted with, it being a Title as proper to my Person, as my celebrated Impudence is to my popular Capacity. Quest. What Religion are you of? Ans. My Country-Man's. Quest. And what Religion's your Countryman of? Ans. None at all— as how the Devil should he, when he has been so long at my Devotion. Quest. What are your Principles? Ans. Very necessary and suitable to the Station into which t'has pleased John How, and the Republican Whigs, to call me. The old Rebellious King-killing Principles of Fortyeight; Sedition and Levelling, under the specious Name of Liberty and Property, and Power in the People: There's Principles that fire me with pious Rage! To be an Ostentatious Rogue among the Party, and fatten upon popular Scandal; through which I resolve to stand by the Party to the last drop of my Ink. I dare not say, my Blood, for fear Leslic should make Treason of it— In short— My Principles are to rail immoderately at the High-Church Party, to traduce the Government when it is not moved by those Precepts▪ I lay down, and to throw the same dirt at the Crown, I do at the Mitre, to spare none, tho' never so high in Station, and to stick at nothing within the Verge of my Ears, to explode Immorality, and be catched in a Bawdy-house, to run in every Body's debt, and pay no Body; to ruin my Countryman, and as many of Mankind besides as will be led by the Nose— and finally— to be a very Capricious positive Coxcomb— revengful without Courage, and conceited without Merit— and now, Sir, I have given you an exact, tho' brief Account, of my Principles. Quest. Very well, Sir— but pray, how came you to rail at King William? Ans. First— Because he bore that Regal Title; next, because he let the Bishops sit in Council; and lastly, because I could not rail myself into a better Office than a Tubber of pickled Beef upon Tower-Hill— Out of which, notwithstanding, I was kicked for a troublesome vexatious Fellow. Quest. In what Post were you in Ireland? Ans. A Captain, if you'll take my own word for't; but if you'll believe other People, I was but a Corporal, who adapt my Preferment more suitable to my desert. Quest. What were you in the West of England? Ans. A busy turbulent Fellow, as I've appeared ever since; where. Jefferies not finding Law enough to hang me— resolved upon Measures to make me hang myself— which I had done, had not King James pardoned me, tho' I deserved the Halter I petitioned for, and which Providence, by her inscrutable Decrees, may have reserved to a more convenient Season. FINIS.