AN EPISTLE

_From the_ DEVIL _to his Friend mid Follower_ JOHN CHURCH.

OH, say not, JOHN CHURCH,

I’ve left you _in the lurch_,

When _your life in my service you’ve past_;

Though _I seem to forsake_,

My dear John, do not _quake_,

I’ll be sure to _stick to you at last_.

You know that _Old Nick_

Still is sure those to _trick_,

Who think they _as deep are as he_;

And _he_, still, John, it proves,

_Chaseneth_ those he best loves,

And _he loves none so dearly as thee_.

Besides, John, I thought

If I let you be caught

_In your tricks here on earth_, ’twould be well;

For ’twould serve for a taste

Of the joys you must haste

To enjoy with me, Johnny, in h—.

And then, John, your _preaching_,

And _spiritual teaching_,

Had almost grown _too great a joke_;

To those who knew you,

And they were not a few,

Who still laugh’d as on gospel you spoke.

True, you still rail’d at me,

John, _sans ceremonie_,

And no one thought me your sworn brother;

Like rouges in-grain true,

Who their tricks to pursue,

Still behind their backs backbite each other.

_Like me you wear black_,

My dear John, on your back,

Then, hasten, dear John, to come down;

Guilt’s ne’er look’d on so well,

My dear Johnny, in h—,

As when _clad in a minister’s gown_.

_We are hypocrites both_,

To deceive nothing loth,

In short we’re just form’d for each other;

Then _come Johnny_, _do_,

_Or I must come for you_,—

Oh, come to Old Nick, your dear brother.

You shall be treated well,

Dearest Johnny, in h—,

You on _sulphur and brimstone_ shall feast;

We’ll with _fires keep you warm_,

And do all things to charm;

As befits so illustrious a guest.

In h—, John, you’ll meet

Many friends from _Vere-Street_,

Which quite cosey and handy will be;

For their _chaplain_ in h—

You may be, John, as well

As on earth you us’d one time, be.

True, John, scripture you quote,

Like a parrot, by rote,

So too many other men do;

And then ’tis well known

Almost to every one,

I, the devil, can quote scripture too.

Thy locks all so lank,

And thy chops all so blank,

And thy hoarse nasal twangings to boot;

Finely humm’d all the folks;

But adieu to such jokes,

For, like me, you’ve now shewn _cloven foot_.

The Trial and Conviction of That Infamous Hypocrite John Church The Surrey Tabernacle Preacher, Borough-road, St. George's Fields, for an Abominable Offence; Including the Whole of the Evidence; Tried Before Lord Ellenborough, at the Surrey Assizes, Croydon, Saturday, August 16, 1817. To Which Is Added, His Life, Confessions, Notes of One of His Sermons, the Whole of the Love-letters, &c. &c. · 第 11 / 20 题