Perfection (for bad men maintain In ill we may perfection gain) In others is a work of time, And they creep on from crime to crime; He, for a prodigy design'd, To spread amazement o'er mankind, Started full ripen'd all at once A perfect knave, and perfect dunce. 290 Who will, for him, may boast of sense, His better guard is impudence; His front, with tenfold plates of brass Secured, Shame never yet could pass, Nor on the surface of his skin Blush for that guilt which dwelt within. How often, in contempt of laws, To sound the bottom of a cause, To search out every rotten part, And worm into its very heart, 300 Hath he ta'en briefs on false pretence, And undertaken the defence Of trusting fools, whom in the end He meant to ruin, not defend! How often, e'en in open court, Hath the wretch made his shame his sport, And laugh'd off, with a villain's ease, Throwing up briefs, and keeping fees! Such things as, though to roguery bred, Had struck a little villain dead! 310 Causes, whatever their import, He undertakes, to serve a court; For he by art this rule had got, Power can effect what Law cannot. Fools he forgives, but rogues he fears; If Genius, yoked with Worth, appears, His weak soul sickens at the sight, And strives to plunge them down in night. So loud he talks, so very loud, He is an angel with the crowd; 320 Whilst he makes Justice hang her head, And judges turn from pale to red. Bid all that Nature, on a plan Most intimate, makes dear to man, All that with grand and general ties Binds good and bad, the fool and wise, Knock at his heart; they knock in vain; No entrance there such suitors gain; Bid kneeling kings forsake the throne, Bid at his feet his country groan; 330 Bid Liberty stretch out her hands, Religion plead her stronger bands; Bid parents, children, wife, and friends, If they come 'thwart his private ends-- Unmoved he hears the general call, And bravely tramples on them all. Who will, for him, may cant and whine, And let weak Conscience with her line Chalk out their ways; such starving rules Are only fit for coward fools; 340 Fellows who credit what priests tell, And tremble at the thoughts of Hell; His spirit dares contend with Grace, And meets Damnation face to face. Such was our lawyer; by his side, In all bad qualities allied, In all bad counsels, sat a third, By birth a lord.[146] Oh, sacred word! Oh, word most sacred! whence men get A privilege to run in debt; 350 Whence they at large exemption claim From Satire, and her servant Shame; Whence they, deprived of all her force, Forbid bold Truth to hold her course. Consult his person, dress, and air, He seems, which strangers well might swear, The master, or, by courtesy, The captain of a colliery. Look at his visage, and agree