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Sense, speech andmeasure, living tongues and dead, Let all give way—and Morris may be read. Flow, Welsted, flow ! like thine inspirer, beer, Tho'stale, not ripe ; tho' thin, yet never clear; 170 So sweetly mawkish, and so smoothly dull; Heady, not strong ; o'erflowing, though not full. Ah, Dennis! Gildon, ah! what ill-starr'd

rage Divides a friendship long confirm’d by age? Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor, 175 But fool with fool is barb'rous civil war. Embrace, embrace, my sons ! be foes no more ! Nor glad vile poets with true critics' gore.

REMARKS. called Sawney, very abusive of Dr. Swift, Mr. Gay, and himself. These lines alluded to a thing of his entitleri Night, a poem. This low writer atiended his own works with panegyrics in the Journals, and once in particular praised himself highly abore Mr. Addison, in wretched remarks upon that author's account of English Poets printed in a London Journal, Sept. 17, 1728. lle was wholly illiterate, and knew no language, not even French. Being advised to read the Rules of dramatic poetry before he be. gan a play, he smiled, and replied, 'Shakespeare writ without rules. He ended at last, in ihe common sink of all suc, se ters, a political newspaper, to which he was recommended by his friend Arnall, and received a small pittance for pay.

per's Hill:

IMITATIONS. v. 169. Flow, Welsted, flow! &c.] Parody on Denham, Coo

o could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme:
'Tho’ deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;

• Strong without rage; witliouto'ertlowing full.' T. 177. Embrace, embrace, my sons! be jues no more!! Virg. Æn. VI.

......Ne tanta animis assuescite bella,
• Neu patriæ validas in viscera vertite vires:
'Tuque prior, tu parce-sanguis meus:'..


Behold yon? pair, in strict embraces join'd; How like in manners, and bow like in mind ! 180 Equal in wit, and equally polite, Shall this a l'asquin, that a Grumbler write; Like are their meriis, like rewards they share, That shines a Consul, this Commissioner.

But who is he, in closet closely-pent, • Of sober face, with learned dust besprent ?' Right well mine eyes arede the myster wight, On parchment scrapes y-fed, and Wormius hight. To future ages inay thy dulness last, As thou preserv'st the dulness of the past !

190 There, dim in clouds, the poring scholiasts mark: Wits, who, like owls, see only in the dark, A lumberhouse of books in ev'ry head, For ever reading, never to be read !

But, where each science lifts its modern type, Histry her pot, Divinity her pipe,

196 While proud Philosophy repines to show, Dishonest sight! his breeches rent below;

v. 179. Behold yon' pair, in strict embraces join'd.]
Virg. Æn. VI.

Illae autem, paribus quas fulgere cernis in armis,
Concordes anima'..
Euryalus, forma insignis viridique juventa,

Nisus amore pio pueri.' v. 185. But who is he, &c.] Virg. Æn. VI. questions and answers in this manner, of Numa:

Quis procul ille autem cainis insignis olivæ,
'Sacra ferens ?-nosco crives, in canaque menia,' &c.

v. 197.] In the first edition it was,

And in Æn. V.

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Imbrown'd with native bronze, lo! Henley stands, Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands. 200 How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue ! How sweet the periods, neither said nor sung! Still break the benches, Henley! with thy strain, While Sherlock, Hare, and Gibson, preach in vain. Oh great restorer of the good old stage,

205 Preacher at once, and Zany of thy age ! Oh worthy thou of Egypt's wise abodes, A decent priest, where monkeys were the gods ! But Fate with butchers plac'd thy priestly stall, Meek modern faith to murder, hack, and mawl; 210 And bade thee live, to crown Britannia's praise, In Toland's, Tindal's, and in Woolston's days.

Yet, oh, my sons ! a father's words attend : (S0 may the Fates preserve the ears you lend)

REMARKS. d. 199...lo! Henley štands, &c.] J. Henley the orator; he preached on the Sundays upon Theological matters, and on the Wednesdays upon all other Sciences. Each auditor paid one shilling. He declaimed some years against the greatest persons, and occasionally did our Author that honor.

v. 201.. Sherlock, Ilare,..Gibson. Bishops of Salisbury, Chichester, and London; whose Sermons and Pastoral Letters did honor to their country as well as stations.

v.212. Of Toiand and Tindal, see Book II. rer 399. Thomas Woolston was an impious madman, who wrote, in a most insolent style, against the miracles of the Gospel, in the years 16:00, &c.

And proud Philosophy with breeches tore,
And English music with a dismal score.
Fast by in darkness palpable inshrin
W-s, B-S, M--n, all the poriug kind.

'Tis yours a Bacon, or a Locke to blame, 215
A Newton's genius, or a Milton's flame:
But, oh! with one, immortal one, dispense,
The source of Newton's light, of Bacon's sense.
Content, each émanation of his fires
That beams on earth, each virtue he inspires, 220
Each heart he prompts, each charm he can create,
Whate'er he gives are giv'n for you to hate.
Persist, by all divine in man unaw'd,
But, . Learn, ye Dunces ! not to scorn your God.'

Thus he, for then a ray of reason stole 225
Half through the solid darkness of his soul;
But soon the cloud return'd_and thus the sire:
See now, what Dulness, and her Sons admire !
See, what the charms that smite the simple heart,
Not touch'd' by Nature, and not reach'd by Art.

His never-blushing head he turn'd aside, 231 (Not half so pleas'd when Goodman prophesy'd), And look'd, and saw a sable sorc'rer rise, Swift to whose hand a winged volume flies : All sudden, gorgons hiss, and dragons glare, 235 And ten-horn'd fiends and giants rush to war. Hell rises, heav'n descends, and dance on earth; Gods, imps, and monsters, music, rage, and mirtb, A fire, a jig, a battle, and a ball, 'Till one wide conflagration swallows all. 240

Thence a new world to Nature's laws unknowi, Breaks out refulgent, with a heav'n its own :


7'. 224

Learn, ye Dunces! not to scorn your God.' * Discite justitiain moniti et non temnere divos.' Fira

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Another Cynthia her new journey runs,
And other planets circle other suns.
The forests dance, the rivers upward rise, 245
Whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the skics;
And last, to give the whole creation grace,
Lo! one vast egg produces human race.

Joy fills his soul, joy innocent of thought ; What pow'r, he cries, what pow'r these wonders wrought?

Son, what thou seek'st is in thce ! look and find
Each monster meets his likeness in thy mind.
Yet would'st thou more? in yonder cloud behold,
Whose sarsenet skirts are edg’d with flamy gold,
A matchless youth! his nod these worlds controls,
Wings the red lightning, and the thunder rolls. 256
Angel of Dulness, sent to scatter round
Iler magic charms o'er all unclassic ground:
Yon' stars, yon' suns, he rears-at pleasure higher,
Illumes their light, and sets their flames on fire. 260

p. 244. And other planets.)
....Solemque suum, sua sidera norunt.'

Virg. Æn. VI. v. 246. Whales sport in woods, and dolphins in the skies.) Delphinum sylvis appingit, fluctibus aprum.'

Hor, 0. 251. Sori, ühut thou scekest is in thee! ] 'Quod petis in te est...: .....Ne te quaesiveris extra.'

Pers. v. 256. Wings the red lightning, &c.) Like Salmoneus in JEN. VI.

“ Dum flammas Jovis, et sonitus imitatur Olympi.

....Nimbos, et non imitabile fulmen,
“ Aere et cornipedum cursu simularet equorum.”
v. 258...o'er all unclussic ground.] Alludes to Mr. Addison's
verse in the praises of Italy:

• Poetic fields encompass me around,
. And still I seem to tread on classic ground.'

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