| Citation |
PC.770.013
5-12 Feb 1770:121 (160)
From a London Paper.
THE NEWS-PAPER.
'Tis true (with deference to the college)
Newspapers are the spring of knowledge,
The general source throughout the nation.
Of every modern conversation.
What would this mighty people do,
If there, alas! were nothing new?
A newspaper is like a feast,
Some dish there is for every guest;
Some large, some small, some strong, some tender,
For every stomach, stout or slender.
Those who roast beef and ale delight in
Are pleas'd with trumpets, drums, and fighting;
For those who are more puny made
Are arts and sciences, and trade;
For fanciful and amorous blood,
We have a soft poetick food;
For witty and satyric folks,
High season'd, acid, bitter jokes;
And when we strive to please the mob,
A jest, a quarrel, or a job.
If any gentleman wants a wife,
(A partner, as is term'd, for life)
An advertisement does the thing,
And quickly brings the pretty thing.
If you want health, consult our pages,
You shall be well, and live for ages;
Our empiricks, to get them bread,
Do every thing but raise the dead.
Lands may be had if they are wanted,
Annuities of all sorts granted,
Places, preferments, bought and sold,
Houses to purchase, new and old,
Ships, shops, of every shape and form,
Carriages, horses, servants swarm,
No matter whether good or bad,
We tell you where they may be had,
Our services you can't express,
The good we do you hardly guess;
There's not a want of human kind,
But we a remedy can find.
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