To the EDITOR.

ing he was the Honour and Orna-
ment of his Country (yet misled by
the Vices of that Age) had been
too great a Libertine in many of
his Writings; but dearly did he re-
pent of it before he died (as certainly
all must who have but even the Princi-
ples of natural Religion, when they
come to take a serious View of Eterni-
ty) he was continually bewailing the
Impossibility of calling in all his
Works, and making a thorough Re-
formation, and therefore took all Op-
portunities of deterring others from
treading in his Steps; nay, sometimes
his Zeal carried him so far as to
chide even when there was no Oc-
casion, as Witneſs one of his Letters
to me, who had defired his Correcti-
on of ſome Verſes, and had innocently
faid they were written in Imitation
of Mrs. Behn's Numbers. I own
I was pleafed with the Cadence of her
Verſe, tho' at the fame Time I no
ways approved the Licentiouſneſs
of her Morals. But you will ſee
how ſevere he is upon me for it;
and

To the EDITOR.

and I am very certain if he had li-
ved but a few Months longer, he
would have publishe'd a Treatife by
Way of Recantation, which, as he
often ufed to say, was the only Me-
thod whereby he could redeem his
Crime, and prevent a growing Evil.

Sir, if you think the *private*
*Thoughts* of this *Great Man* may be
useful to the Publick, and worthy
a Place in your Collection, they are
freely at your Service, from,

Your sincere Friend,

June 16th 1726.

CORINNA

THE

THE
PREFACE.

A

N eminent Critick, more than once mentioned in the following Pages, has thus defined the Nature and End of Letter-writing. The Intention of it, says he, is to supply Conversation, and not to imitate it, nothing but the Dialogue being capable of doing that; from whence this Conclusion may be drawn, that the Style of a Letter should neither come quite up to that of Conversation, nor yet keep at too great a Distance from it. For it is to be observed, that all Conversation is not familiar, it may be ceremonious, it may be grave; nay, it may be sublime, or else the Writing of

12

LETTERS to

wild and savage a Place as this Forest is: In
the Town, 'tis ten to one but a young Fel-
low may find his stray'd Heart again, with
some Wild-street or Drury-lane Damsel; but
here, where I could have met with no Redrefs
from an unmerciful, virtuous Dame, I must
for ever have lost my little Traveller in a
Hole, where I cou'd never rummage to find
him again.—Well, Sir, you have your La-
dy in the Town still, and I have my Heart in
the Country still, which being wholly unem-
ploy'd as yet, has the more Room in it for
my Friends, and does not want a Corner at
your Service.—To be serious, you have
extreamly oblig'd me by your Frankneſs and
Kindneſs to me in Town: And I have a-
bus'd it by too much Freedom on my Part,
I hope you will attribute it to the natural
Openneſs of my Temper, which hardly knows
how to show Respect, where I feel Affection.
I wou'd love my Friend, as my Mistrels,
without Ceremony; and hope a little rough
Usage sometimes may not be more displeasing
to the one, than it is to the other.

If you have any Curiosity to know in what
Manner I live, or rather lofe a Life, in the
Country; *Martial* will inform you in one
Line.

Prandeo, poto, cano, ludo, lego, cæno, quietco.

Every Day with me is literally another To-
morrow; for it is exactly the fame with ye-
afterday: It has the fame Busineſs, which is Po-
etry; and the fame Pleasure, which is Idlenefs.
A Man might indeed paſs his Time much bet-
ter, but I question if any Man could paſs it
much

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſq;

much easier. Human Life (as Plutarch jult now told me) is like a Game at Tables, where every one may wifh for the beſt Caſt; but after all, he is to make his beſt of that which happens, and go on contentedly. If you will visit our Shades this Spring, which I very much defire, you may perhaps inſtruct me to manage my Game more wifely; but at preſent I am ſatisfy'd to trifle away my Time any Way, rather than let it flick by me; as Shop-keepers are glad to be rid of thofe Goods at any Rate, which wou'd otherwife always be lying upon their Hands.

Sir, if you will favour me ſometimes with your Letters, it will be a great Satisfaction to me on ſeveral Accounts; and on this in particular, That it will ſhow me (to my Comfort) that even a wife Man is ſometimes very idle; for ſo you muſt needs be when you can find Time to write to ſuch a Fellow as

SIR,

March 18th. 1708.

Your moſt faithful

and obliged Servant,

A. POPE.

P. S. Pray do not put an Anachronifm again
upon me, for my Game at Tables out of Plu-
tarch.

I gave your Service to Mr. Wycherley yefter-
day; and defire you to give mine to—Let
me fee?—Mr. Tydcombe.

B 2

LETTER

4 LETTERS to

LETTER II.

Sir,

April 25th. 1708

THIS Letter greets you from the Shades;
(Not those which thin unbody'd Shadows
fill,
That glide along th' Elysian Glades,
Or skim the flow'ry Meads of Asphodill:
But those, in which a learned Author said,
Strong Drink was drunk, and Gambols
play'd,
And two substantial Meals a Day were made.

The Busineſs of it is t' exprefs,
From me and from my Holineſs,
To you and to your Gentlemen,
How much I wifh you Health and Happineſs;
And much good News, and little Spleen as
may be;
A hearty Stomach, and found Lady;
And ev'ry Day a double Dose of Coffee,
To make you look as ſage as any Sophy.

For the reſt, I muſt be content in plain Proſe
to affure you, that I am very much oblig'd to
you for the Favour of your Letter, and in par-
ticular, for the Translation of that one Latin
Verſe, which colt you three in English.

One ſhort, one long,
One ſmooth, one ſtrong,
One right, one wrong.

But

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq;

But if I may be allow'd to object against
any thing you write (which I must do, if it
were only to be even with you for your Se-
verity to me) it should be that Paftage in yours,
where you are pleas'd to call the Whores of
Drury-lane, the Nymphs of Drury. I must
own it was some Time before I could frame
to my self any plausible Excuse for this Ex-
pression; but Affection (which you know, Sir,
excuses all Things) at last furnish'd me with
one in your Justification; which I have here
fent you, in Verfe, that you may have at least
some Rhyme to defend you, tho' you should
have no Reason.

If Wit or Critick blame the tender Swain,
Who flil'd the gentle Damfels in his Strain
The Nymphs of Drury, not of Drury-lane;
Be this his Answer, and most just Excuse—
' Far be it, Sirs, from my more civil Mufe,
' Thofe loving Ladies rudely to traduce.
' Alleys and Lanes are Terms too vile and bafe,
' And give Ideas of a narrow Pafs ;
' But the well-worn Paths of the Nymphs of
Drury
' Are large and wide, Tydcombe and I affure
ye.

I made no question but the News of Sa-
pho's staying behind me in the Town wou'd
surprize you. But she is since come into the
Country, and to surprize you more, I will in-
form you, that the first Person she nam'd when
I waited on her, was one Mr. Cromwell. What
an Ascendant have you over all the Sex, who
could gain the Fair-one's Heart by appearing
before her in a long, black, unpowder'd Per-
riwig;

B 3

6 LETTERS to

riwig; nay, without so much as the very Extremities of clean Linen in Neckcloth and Cuffs! I guesst that your Friend Vertumnus among all the Forms he affum'd to win the good Graces of Pomona, never took upon him that of a slovenly Beau. Well, Sir, I leave you to your Meditations on this Occasion, and to languish inactive (as you call it.)

But I find I have exceeded my Bounds, and
begin to travel on the Confines of Impertinence.
However to make you amends, I shall
desire Mr. Wycherley to deliver you this Letter,
who will be sure in less than a Quarter
of an Hour's Conversation with you, to give
you Wit enough to atone for twice as much
Dulneffs as I have troubled you with. I therefore I shall only give my Respects to some of
our Acquaintance, and conclude.

To Baker first my Service, pray;
To Tydcombe eke,
And Mr. Cheek;
Last to yourself my best Respects I pay,
And so remain, for ever and for ay.

SIR,

Your affectionate

humble Servant,

A. POPE.

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq;

LETTER III.

Sir,

November 1st. 1708.

I HAVE been so well satisfy'd with the Country ever since I saw you, that I have not so much as once thought of the Town, or enquir'd of any one in it besides Mr. Wycherley and yourself. And from him I understood of your Journey this Summer into Leicestershire; from whence I guefs you are return'd, by this Time, to your old Apartment in the Widow's Corner; to your old Busineſs of comparing Criticks, and reconciling Commentators; and to the old Diverſions of a loſing Game at Picquet with the Ladies, and half a Play, or a Quarter of a Play, at the Theatre; where you are none of the malicious Audience, but the chief of amorous Spectators; and for the Infirmity of one Senſe which could only there ſerve to diſguſt you, enjoy the Viour of another which ravifies you.

You know, when one Senſe is ſuppreſt,
It but retires into the reſt.

(According to the Poetical, not the Learned, Dodwell; who has done one Thing worthy of eternal Memory; wrote two Lines in his Life that are not Nonſenſe!) So you have the Advantage of being entertain'd with all the Beauty of the Boxes, without being troubled with any of the Dulneſs of the Stage. You are so good a Critick, that 'tis the greatest Happineſs of the modern Poets that you do not hear their

Works;

8 LETTERS to

Works; and next, that you are not so arrant
a Critick, as to damn them (like the rest) with-
out hearing. But now I talk of those Criticks,
I have good News to tell you concerning my-
fself, for which I expect you should congratu-
late with me: It is that beyond all my Ex-
pectations, and far above my Demerits, I have
been most mercifully repriev'd by the sovereign
Power of Jacob Tonson, from being brought
forth to publick Punishment; and reprieved from
Time to Time from the Hands of those bar-
barous Executioners of the Muses, whom I
was just now speaking of. It often happens,
that guilty Poets, like other guilty Criminals,
when once they are known and proclaim'd,
deliver themselves into the Hands of Justice,
only to prevent others from doing it more to
their Disadvantage; and not out of any Am-
bition to spread their Fame, by being executed
in the Face of the World, which is a Fame
but of short continuance. That Poet were a
happy Man who could but obtain a Grant to
preserve His for Ninety-nine Years; for those
Names very rarely last so many Days, which
are planted either in Jacob Tonson's, or the
Ordinary of Newgate's Miscellanies.

I have an hundred Things to say to you,
which shall be deferr'd till I have the Happi-
ness of seeing you in Town, for the Sea-
son now draws on that invites every Body,
thither. Some of them I had communicated
to you by Letters before this Time, if I had
not been uncertain where you paſs'd your Time
the last Season: So much fine Weather, I
doubt not, has given you all the Pleasure you
could desire from the Country, and your own
Thoughts the best Company in it. But nothing
could

10

LETTERS *to*

LETTER IV.

Sir,

May 7th. 1709.

YOU had long before this Time been troubled with a Letter from me, but that I deferr'd it till I cou'd send you either the Miscellany, or my Continuation of the Version of Statius. The first I imagin'd you might have had before now, but since the contrary has happen'd, you may draw this Moral from it, That Authors in general are more ready to write Nonsense, than Bookfellers are to publish it. I had I know not what extraordinary Flux of Rhyme upon me for three Days together, in which Time all the Verses you see added, have been written; which I tell you that you may more freely be severe upon them. 'Tis a Mercy I do not affault you with a Number of original Sonnets and Epigrams, which our modern Bards put forth in the Spring-Time, in as great Abundance, as Trees do Blossoms, a very few whereof ever come to be Fruit, and please no longer than just in their Birth. So that they make no lefs Hafte to bring their Flowers of Wit to the Preſs, than Gardiners to bring their other Flowers to the Market, which if they can't get off their Hands in the Morning, are ſure to dye before Night. Thus the fame Reaſon that furniſhes Covent-Garden with thofe Noſegays you so delight in, ſupplies the Muses Mercury, and British Apollo (not to ſay Jacob's Miscellanyes) with Verſes. And it is the Happineſs of this Age, that the modern Invention of print-

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; II

ing Poems for Pence a-piece, has brought the
Noſegays of Parnassus to bear the fame Price;
whereby the publick-spired Mr. Henry Hills
of Black-fryars, has been the Caufe of great
Eafe and ſingular Comfort to all the Learned,
who never over-abounding in tranſitory Coin,
ſhou'd not be discontented (methinks) even
tho' Poems were diſtributed Gratis about the
Streets, like Bunyan's Sermons and other pious
Treatiſes, usually publish'd in a like Volume
and Character.

The Time now drawing nigh, when you
uſe, with Sapho, to croſs the Water in an
Ev'ning to Spring-Garden, I hope you will have
a fair Opportunity of ravishing her: — I
mean only (as Oldfox in the Plain-dealer ſays)
of ravishing her thro' the Ear with your well-
penn'd Verſes. — I have been told of a very
lucky Compliment of an Officer to his Mi-
strels in the fame Place, which I cannot but
ſet down (and deſire you at preſent to take
it in good Part inſtead of a Latin Quotation)
that it may ſome Time or other be improv'd
by your Pronunciation, while you walk, Solus
cum Sola, in those amorous Shades.

When at Spring-Garden Sapho deigns t' appear,
The Flow'rs march in her Van, Musk in her
Rear.

I wiſh you all the Pleaſures which the Sea-
ſon and the Nymph can afford; the beſt Com-
pany, and the beſt Coffee, and the beſt News
you can deſire. And what more to wiſh you
than this, I do not know; unleſs it be a great
deal of Patience to read and examine the Ver-
ſes I ſend you; and I promiſe you in Return
a great

12

LETTERS to

a great deal of Deference to your Judgment,
and an extraordinary Obedience to your Senti-
ments for the future, (to which you know I
have been sometimes a little refractory.) If
you will please to begin where you left off
last, and mark the Margins, as you have done
in the Pages immediately before, (which you
will find corrected to your Sense since your
last Perusal) you will extreamly oblige me,
and improve my Translation. Besides those
Places which may deviate from the Sense of
the Author, it wou'd be very kind in you to
observe any Deficiencies in the Diction or
Numbers. The Hiatus in particular I wou'd
avoid as much as possible, which you are cer-
tainly in the right to be a professor's Enemy to;
though I confess I cou'd not think it possible at
all times to be avoided by any Writer, till I
found, by reading the famous French Poet Mal-
herbe lately, that there is but one throughout
all his Poems. I thought your Observation
true enough to be passed into a Rule, but not a
Rule without Exceptions, nor that ever it had
been reduc'd to practice. But this Example of
one of the correctest and best of their Poets has
undeceived me, and confirms your Opinion
very strongly, and much more than Mr. Dry-
den's Authority, who though he made it a Rule,
frequently observed it. — Sir, I shall be very proud
of a Line or two from you sometimes during
this Summer, which will be always very wel-
come and very obliging to

SIR,

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 13

LETTER V.

Dear Sir,

July 17th. 1709.

THE Morning after I parted with you, I
found myself (as I had prophecy'd) all
alone, in an uneasy Stage-Coach; a doleful
Change from that agreeable Company I enjoy'd
the Night before! without the least Hope of
Entertainment, but from my last Recourse in
such Cafes, a Book. I then began to enter
into Acquaintance with the Moratifts, and had
just receiv'd from them some cold Confolati-
on for the Inconveniencies of this Life, and
the Incertainty of human Affairs; when I per-
ceiv'd my Vehicle to stop, and heard from the
Side of it the dreadful News of a sick Wo-
man preparing to enter it. 'Tis not easy to
guets at my Mortification, but being so well
fortify'd with Philosophy, I stood resign'd with
a Stoical Constancy to endure the worst of
Evils, a sick Woman! I was indeed a little
comforted to find by her Voice and Drefs,
that she was young and a Gentlewoman; but
no sooner was her Hood remov'd, but I saw
one of the finest Faces I ever beheld, and to
increase my Surprize, heard her salute me by
my Name. I never had more Reason to ac-
cuse Nature for making me short fighted than
now, when I could not recollect I had ever
seen those fair Eyes which knew me so well;
and was utterly at a Loss how to addreſs my
self, till with a great deal of Simplicity and
Innocence she let me know (even before I
discover'd

14 LETTERS to

discover'd my Ignorance) that she was the
Daughter of one in our Neighbourhood, late-
ly marry'd, who having been consulting her
Physicians in Town, was returning into the
Country, to try what good Air and a new Hus-
band cou'd do to recover her. My Father,
you must know, has sometimes recommended
the Study of Physick to me, but the Devil take
me if ever I had any Ambition to be a Doctor
till this Instant. I ventur'd to prescribe her
some Fruit (which I happen'd to have in the
Coach) which being forbidden her by her
damn'd Doctors, she had the more Inclination
to. In short, I tempted, and she eat; nor was
I more like the Devil, than she like Eve. Ha-
ving the good Success of the forefaid Gentle-
man before my Eyes, I put on the Gallantry
of the old Serpent, and in spite of my evil
Form, accosted her with all the Gayety I was
Master of; which had so good Effect, that in
les than an Hour she grew pleasant, her Co-
lour return'd, and she was pleas'd to say, my
Prescription had wrought an immediate Cure.
In a Word, I had the pleasantest Journey ima-
ginable; so that now, as once of yore, by
means of the forbidden Fruit, the Devil got
into Paradise. I should not have us'd this
last Phrase, but that I know your civil Appre-
hension will not put any ill Construction upon
it; and you will firmly believe that we were
as model'd even as Sapke and Mr. Crom-
well.

Thus far (methinks) my Letter has some-
thing of the Air of a Romance in it, tho' it
be true: But I hope you will look on what
follows as the greatest of all Trut's, That I
think myself extreamly oblig'd by you in all
Points,

HENRY CROMWELL, E/sq; 15

Points, especially for your kind and honourable Information and Advice in a Matter of the utmost Concern to me, which I shall ever acknowledge as the highest Proof at once of your Friendship, Justice, and Sincerity. At the same Time be affur'd, that Gentleman we spoke of, shall never by any Alteration in me discover my Knowledge of his Millake; the hearty forgiving of which is the only Kind of Return I can possibly make him for so many Favours. And I may derive this Pleasure at least from it, that whereas I must otherwise have needs been a little uneafy to know my Incapacity of returning to his Obligations; I may now, by bearing his Frailty, exercise my Gratitude and Friendship more, than Himself; either is, or perhaps ever will be sensible of.

Ille meos, primus qui me sibi junxit, Amores
Abſulit; ille habeat ſecum, ſervetque Sepulchro!

But in one Thing, I must confess, you have
your self oblig'd me more than any Man
alive, even than Mr. Wycherley; which is, that
you have ſhow'd me moſt of my Faults, to
which as you are the more an implacable Enemy,
by so much the more you are a kind
Friend to me. I cou'd be proud, in Revenge,
to find a few Slips in your Verſes, which I
read in London, and ſince in the Country with
more Application and Pleaſure: The Thoughts
are very juſt and noble, and you are ſure not
to let them ſuffer by the Veriſcation. If you
wou'd oblige me with the Truſt of any
Thing of yours, I ſhou'd be glad to execute
any Commissions you wou'd give me concern-
ing them. I am here so perfectly at Leisure,

C 2

that

HENRY CROMWELL, E/s; 17

Bleſt, who can unconcern'dly find
His Years slide silently away,
In Health of Body, Peace of Mind,
Quiet by Day,

Repose at Night; Study and Eafe,
Together mixt; ſweet Recreation;
And Innocence which moſt does please,
With Meditation.

Thus, let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus, unlamented, let me die,
Steal from the World, and not a Stone
Tell where I lye.

LETTER VI.

Dear Sir,

August 29. 1709.

IF I were to write to you as often as I think of you, my Letters wou'd be as bad as a Rent-Charge; but tho' the one be but too little for your Good-nature, the other wou'd be too much for your Quiet, which is one Bleſſing Good-nature ſhou'd indispenſably receive from Mankind, in Return for those many it gives. I have been inform'd of late, how much I am indebted to that Quality of yours, in ſpeaking well of me in my Absence; the only Thing by which you prove yourſelf no Wit or Critick: Tho' indeed I have often thought, that a Friend will ſhow juſt as much Indulgence, and no more, to my Faults when I am absent, as he does Severity to 'em when I am present. To be very frank with you, Sir, I muſt own, that where I receiv'd ſo much

C 3

18 LETTERS to

much Civility at first, I cou'd hardly have ex-
pected so much Sincerity afterwards. But now
I have only to wish, that the last were but
equal to the first, and that as you have omit-
ted nothing to oblige me, so you wou'd omit no-
thing to improve me.

I caus'd an Acquaintance of mine to enquire
twice of your Welfare, by whom I have been
inform'd, that you have left your speculative
Angle in the Widow's Coffee-houſe, and bid-
ding adieu for some Time to all the Rehear-
sals, Reviews, Gazettes, Tatlers, &c. have he-
roically march'd off into Lincolnſhire. Thus
I find you vary your Life in the Scene at leaſt,
tho' not in the Action; for tho' Life for the
moſt Part, like an old Play, be ſtill the ſame,
yet now and then a new Scene may make it
more entertaining. As for myſelf, I wou'd
not have my Life a very regular Play, let it be a
good merry Farce, a G—d's Name, and a Fig
for the critical Unities! Yet (on the other
Side) I wou'd as ſoon write like Durfey, as
live like Tydcombe; whole beaſtly, laughable
Life, is (if you will excufe ſuch a Similitude)
not unlike a Fart, at once naſty and diverting.
For the Generality of Men, a true modern
Life is like a true modern Play, neither Tra-
gedy, Comedy, nor Farce, nor one, nor all
of these: Every Aſtor is much better known
by his having the ſame Face, than by keeping
the ſame Character: For we change our Minds
as often as they can their Parts, and he who
was yesterday Cæsar, is to day Sir John Daw.
So that one might with much better Reaſon
ask the ſame Question of a modern Life, that
Mr. Rich did of a modern Play; pray do me
the

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſq; 19

the Favour, Sir, to inform me; Is this your Tra-
gedy or your Comedy?

I have dwelt the longer upon this Argu-
ment, becaufe I perſwade myſelf it might be
uſeful at this Time, when we have no other
Theatre, to divert ourſelves at this great one.
Here is a glorious ſtanding Comedy of Fools,
at which every Man is heartily merry, and thinks
himſelf an unconcern'd Spectator. This (to
our ſingular Comfort) neither my Lord Cham-
berlain, nor the Queen herſelf, can ever ſ shut
up, or ſilence. While that of Drury (alas!)
lies defolate, in the profoundeft Peace! And the
melancholy Prospect of the Nymphs yet lin-
gring pentive about its beloved Avenues, ap-
pears no leſs moving, than that of the Trojan
Dames lamenting over their ruin'd Ilium! What
now can they hope, diſpoſeſs'd of their antient
Seats, but to ſerve as Captives to the inſulting
Victors of the Hay-Market? The affiſted Sub-
jects of France do not, in our Poſt-man, ſo
grievouſly deplore the Obſtinacy of their arbi-
trary Monarch; as theſe perſhing People of
Drury, the obdurate Heart of that Pharoah,
Rich, who like him, diſdains all Propoſals of
Peace and Accommodation! Several Libels
have been ſecretly affix'd to the great Gates
of his imperial Palace in Bridges ſtreet; and a
Memorial, representing the Diſtresses of theſe
Perſons, has been accidentally dropt (as we
are credibly inform'd by a Perſon of Quality)
out of his firſt Minifter, the chief Box-keeper's
Pocket, at a late Conference betwixt him and
his firſt Minifter about the Part of the Confe-
derates, and his Theatrical Majefty on his own
Part. Of this you may expect a Copy as ſoon
as it ſhall be tranſmitted to us from a good

Hand.

LETTERS to

20

Hand. As for the late Congrefs, it is here reported, that it has not been wholly ineffectual; but this wants Confirmation; yet we cannot but hope the concurring Prayers and Tears of so many wretched Ladies may induce this haughty Prince to Reafon. I am

SIR,

P. S. I have not heard these two Months from Mr. Wycherley, tho' I have written to him twice. I am since told he has been ill, which I am very much concern'd for, and fear is the Occafion of his Silence since his last Letters, which were the kindeft in the World. If you happen at your Return to find him in Town, it will be very obliging to let me know of it; in the mean time, a Letter from you will make me the best amends for my Solitude.

LETTER VII.

Sir,

October 19th. 1709.

I MAY truly say I am more oblig'd to you this Summer than to any of my Acquaintance, for had it not been for the two kind Letters you ſent me, I had been perfectly, ob-

litusque

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 21

litusque meorum, obliviscendus & illis. The
only Companions I had were those Muses of
whom Tully says, Adolescentiam alunt, Senectu-
tem oblectant, secundas res ornant, adversis per-
fugium, ac solatium præbent, delectant domi, non
impediunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, peregrinan-
tur, ruſticantur. Which indeed is as much as
ever I expected from them; for the Muses, if
you take 'em as Companions, like all the rest,
are very pleafant and agreeable; but whoever
should be forc'd to live or depend upon 'em,
would find himself in a very bad Condition.
That Quiet, which Cowley calls the Compani-
on of Obscurity, was not wanting to me, un-
lefs it was interrupted by those Fears you ſo
justly gueſs I had for our Friend's Welfare.
'Tis extreamly kind in you to tell me the
News you heard of him, and you have deli-
ver'd me from more Anxiety than he imagines
me capable of on his Account, as I am con-
vinc'd by his long Silence. However the Love
of some Things rewards it ſelf, as of Virtue,
and of Mr. Wycherley. I am ſurpriz'd at the
Danger you tell me he has been in, and muſt
agree with you, that our Nation would have
loſt in him alone, more Wit, Probity, and
Good-nature, than would have remain'd (for
aught I know) in all the rest of it. My Con-
cern for his Friendship will excufe me, (since
I know you honour him ſo much, and ſince
you know I love him above all Men) if I
vent a Part of my Uneaſineſs to you, and
tell you, that there has not been wanting one
(who is every Way a Scoundrel, but that he
has the Luck to be born a Gentleman) that
has more than once inſtinuated malicious Un-
truths of me to Mr. Wycherley, which I fear
may

22

LETTERS to

may have had some Effect upon him: If so, he will
have a greater Punishment for his Credulity than I
could with him in that Fellow's Acquaintance. The
Loys of a faithful Creature is something, tho'
of never so contemptible an one; and if I
were to change my Dog for such a Man as
the aforefaid, I should think my Dog underv-
la'd; (who follows me about as constantly
here in the Country, as I was us'd to Mr. Wy-
cherley in the Town.)

Now I talk of my Dog, that I may not
treat of a worse Subject which my Spleen
tempts me to, I will give you some Account
of him; a Thing not wholly unprecedented,
since Montaigne (to whom I am but a Dog
in Comparifon) has done the very same Thing
of his Cat. Dic mihi quid melius defidioſus,
agam ? You are to know then, that as 'tis
Likeneſs that begets Affection, so my favou-
rite Dog is a little one, a lean one, and none
of the fineſt ſhap'd. He is not much a Spa-
niel in his Fawning, but has (what might be
worth many a Man's while, to imitate from
him) a dumb ſurly Sort of Kindneſs, that ra-
ther ſhows it ſelf when he thinks me ill-us'd
by others, than when we walk quietly and peace-
ably by ourselves. If it be the chief Point of
Friendſhip to comply with a Friend's Motions
and Inclinations, he poſſeſſes this in an emi-
nent Degree; he lies down when I fit, and
walks where I walk, which is more than
very many good Friends can pretend to, wit-
neſs our Walk a Year ago in St. James's
Park. — Histories are more full of Exam-
ples of the Fidelity of Dogs than of Friends,
but I will not infiſt upon many of 'em, be-
cause it is poſſible some may be almost as fa-
bulous

24

LETTERS to

And tho' ev'n then expiring on the Plain,
Touch'd with Resentment of ungrateful Man,
And longing to behold his antient Lord again.

Him when he saw—he rose, and crawl'd to meet,
('Twas all he cou'd) and fawn'd, and kif'd his Feet,
Seiz'd with dumb Joy—then falling by his Side,
Own'd his returning Lord, look'd up, and Dy'd.

Plutarch (who if I have any Taste, is the greatest of moral Philosophers) relating how the Athenians were oblig'd to abandon Athens in the Time of Themistocles, steps back again, out of the Way of his History, to describe the lamentable Cries and Howlings of the poor Dogs, when left behind. He makes Mention of one that follow'd his Master across the Sea to Salamis, where he dy'd, and was honour'd with a Tomb by the Athenians, who gave the Name of the Dogs-Tomb to that Part of the Island where he was buried: This Respect to a Dog from the most polite People of the World, is very observable. A modern Instance of Gratitude to a Dog (tho' we have but few such) is that the chief Order of Denmark (now call'd the Order of the Elephant) was instituted in Memory of the Fidelity of a Dog nam'd Wild-Brat, by one of their Kings who had been deferted by his Subjects, and gave this Motto, or to this Effect, which still remains; Wild-Brat was faithful. Sir William Trumbull has told me a Story which he heard from one that was present, when our King Charles I. being with some of his Court, during his Troubles, and a Discourse arising what

HENRY CROMWELL, Esg; 25

what Sort of Dogs deserve Pre-eminence, and
it being on all Hands agreed to belong ei-
ther to a Spaniel or Greyhound, the King gave
his Opinion on the Part of the Greyhound,
becaus[e] (said he) it has all the Good-nature of
the other, without the Fawning. A fine Piece
of Satire upon his Courtiers, with which I
will conclude my Discourse of Dogs. Call
me a Cynick, or what you please, in Revenge
for all this Impertinence, I will be contented,
provided you will but believe me when I say
a bold Word for a Christian, that, of all Dogs,
you will find none more faithful than

Dear SIR,

Your most affectionate

humble Servant,

A. POPE.

LETTER VIII.

Sir,

November 30th. 1709.

ABOUT the Time that Mr. Wycherley
came to London, I troubled you with a
Letter of mine, in Hopes of prevailing with
you to continue, the Favour of yours. But
I now write, to convince you that Silence is
not always the surest Guard against Imperti-
nence: I have too great a Sense of those
many Civilities receiv'd from you, to deft
from expreffing it, till I receive more: For
you not only have acquainted me with many

D of

26 LETTERS to

of my Errors in Scribling, but with some in
my Conduct; and I owe to you the Know-
ledge of Things infinitely more of Concern
to myself, than any thing of mine can be to
others. The Advantage I have obtain'd from
both might endanger your being put upon an
endles's Trouble of critisizing on the reſt of
my Faults, and therefore you have reaſon to
make some delay with thofe now under your
Examination. Tho' I never cou'd expect you
ſhou'd once look upon them, but when you
were perfectly at Leifure; yet ſo much Affu-
rance your former Kindneſs had given me,
that I was under ſome Apprehensions for your
Health, on the Score of your Silence; and I
defir'd Mr. Wycherley to inform me on that
Subjeſt; which he did not, either through For-
getfulness, or eſſe believing I ſhou'd be ſoon
in Town. And I had certainly been there be-
fore this Time, had it been in my Power to
comply with his moſt obliging Invitation, and
my Desires of ſeeing him and you. But ſince
I find I muſt not hope for that Satisfaction
till after Christmas, I entreat you will not, in
the mean time, let me be ſo unhappy as to
doubt of your Welfare; which is the ſole Bu-
ſineſs of this Letter, that (to make you ſome
amends for the unconſcionable Length of my
laſt) ſhall not add a Word more but that
which I hope you will ever believe, that I
am,

Dear S I R,

Your moſt oblig'd and
moſt humble Servant,

A. POPE.

HENRY CROMWELL, Esg; 27

P. S. Pray continue to assure Mr. Wycherley of my real Affection for, and Service to him, and let him know I writ to him two Poffs since. You will likewise oblige me by giving my Service to Mr. Betterton when you see him, who (I am afraid) is not well, not having seen his Name among the Actors in the publ.ck Advertisements.

LETTER IX.

Dear Sir,

December 15th. 1709.

I Receiv'd the Favour of your kind Letters, wherein I find you have oblig'd me before I expected it, in reviewing the Papers I sent you; I have been ask'd, I believe twenty times, by Sir William Trumbull for a Sight of that Translation, but have deferr'd it till I cou'd supply the blank Spaces I left in the fair Copy, by your Approbation. If therefore you will send it inclos'd to Mr. Thorold the Tobaccoi.st in Duke-street, to be sent me by the Coach, as soon as you can conveniently; it will come very opportunely; since I find I can no longer refuse to show it to Sir William with any Decency. I am mightily pleas'd with your Objection to my attributing Friendship to Dogs, yet think the Want of Equality is no Obstacle to the Friendship of some Country Gentlemen of my Acquaintance, with theirs, I am extreamly impatient to enjoy your agreeable Conversation, and to let you know how much I prefer it to any here, where indeed Dogs and Men are much on a Level, only the firſt have more Good-nature and more Sa-

D 2

gacity.

HENRY CROMWELL, Esg; 29

For in this Point of Praying, I am an occasional
Conformift. So juſt as I am drunk or ſcand-
dalous in Town, according to my Company,
I am for the fame Reaſon grave and godly here.
I aſſure you I am look'd upon in the Neigh-
bourhood for a very ſober and well-diſpos'd
Perſon, no great Hunter indeed, but a great
Eſteemer of the noble Sport, and only unhap-
py in my Want of Conſtitution for that, and
Drinking. They all ſay 'tis Pity I am so fick-
ly, and I think 'tis Pity they are so healthy :
But I ſay nothing that may deſtroy their good
Opinion of me. I have not quoted one Latin
Author ſince I came down, but have learn'd
without Book a Song of Mr. Thomas Durfey's,
who is your only Poet of tolerable Re-
putation in this Country. He makes all the
Merriment in our Entertainments, and but for
him, there wou'd be ſo miſerable a Dearth of
Catches, that I fear they wou'd (ſans ceremo-
nie) put either the Perſon or me upon making
ſome for 'em. Any Man, of any Quality, is
heartily welcome to the beſt Topeing-Table
of our Gentry, who can roundly hum out
ſome Fragments or Rhaſpodies of his Works:
So that in the fame Manner as it was ſaid of
Homer, to his Detractors; What ? Dares any
Man ſpeak againſt him who has given ſo ma-
ny Men to eat ? (meaning the Rhaſſodifts
who liv'd by repeating his Verſes) So may it
be ſaid of Mr. Durfey, to his Detractors;
Dares any one deſpife him, who has made ſo
many Men drink ? Alas, Sir! This is a Glo-
ry which neither you nor I muſt ever pretend
to. Neither you, with your Ovid, nor I with
my Statius, can amuse a whole Board of Ju-
ſtices and extraordinary 'Squires, or gain one

D 3

Hum

30 LETTERS to

Hum of Approbation, or Laugh of Admira-
tion! Thee Things (they wou'd fay) are too
ftudious, they may do well enough with such
as love Reading, but give us your antient Poet
Mr. Durfey! 'Tis mortifying enough, it muſt
be confefs'd; but however, let us proceed in
the Way that Nature has directed us—
*Multi multa sciunt, sed nemo omnia*, as it is
ſaid in the Almanack. Let us communicate
our Works for our mutual Comfort; ſend me
Elegies, and you ſhall not want Heroicks. At
prefent, I have only theſe Arguments in Proſe
to the *Thebaid*, which you claim by Promife,
as I do your Tranſation of—*Pars me
Sulmo tenet* — and the *Ring*: The reſt I
hope for as ſoon as I can conveniently tran-
ſcribe 'em, and whatſoever Orders you are pleas'd
to give me ſhall be punctually obey'd.

Dear Sir, I give you my Thanks for Abun-
dance of Civility and Good-nature ſhown to
me in Town on all Occafions, and defire you
to believe me always ſenſible of the Favours
of my Friends, which I never forget, any more
than I do my Friends themselves. 'Tis the
chief of my Pleaſures here, to be affur'd of
their Welfare, and I envy the Town for no-
thing else but their continuing in it. You
will oblige me by giving my Service to thofe
at the Coffee-house that have ſo little to em-
ploy their Thoughts as to enquire of me; and
pray when you ſee Mr. Balam do the ſame,
who (you told me) was ſo obliging as to in-
tend me his Company before I left London.
I am in great Impatience of the Favour of a
Line

32

LETTERS to

the living Dead, the old Authors, with whom
you are so well acquainted, even from Virgil
down to Aulus Gellius, whom I do not think
a Critick by any Means to be compar'd to
Mr. Dennis. And I must declare positively
to you, that I will perfest in this Opinion,
till you become a little more civil to Atticus.
Who cou'd have imagin'd, that he who had
eſcap'd all the Misfortunes of his Time, un-
hurt, even by the Proſcriptions of Antony and
Augustus, ſhou'd in these Days find an Ene-
my more ſevere and barbarous than that ſty-
rants; and that Enemy, the gentleſt too, the
best-natur'd of Mortals, Mr. Cromwell? Whom
I must in this compare once more to Augu-
stus; who ſeem'd not more unlike himſelf in
the Severity of one Part, and the Clemency of
the other Part of his Life, than you ? I leave
you to reflect on this, and hope, that Time
(which mollifies Stones, and of Stiff Things
makes limber) will turn a reſolute Critick to
a gentle Reader; and inſtead of this poſitive,
tremendous, new-faſhion'd Mr. Cromwell, re-
ſtore unto us our old Acquaintance, the ſoft,
beneficent, and courteous Mr. Cromwell.

I expeſt much, towards the civilizing of you
in your critical Capacity, from the innocent
Air and Tranquillity of our Foreſt, when you
do me the Favour to viſit it: In the mean time,
it wou'd do well by Way of Preparative, if
you wou'd duly and constantly every Morning,
read over a Paſtoral of Theocritus or Virgil;
and let the Lady Ifabella put your Macrobius
and Aulus Gellius ſomewhere out of your
Way, for a Month, or so: (by which Time
I ſhall impatiently expeſt, to ſee you, accor-
ding to your Prouſe.) Who knows, but

Travelling

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 33

Travelling and daily Airing in an open Field,
may contribute more successfully to the Cool-
ing a Critick's Animosity, than it did to the
Allwaging of Mr. Cheek's Anger, of old?
In these Fields you will be secure of finding
no Enemy, but the most faithful and affectio-
nate of your Friends,

S. I. R.

Your humble Servant,

A. POPE.

The tenth of May; that is (in Metre)
Just fifty Days before St. Peter.

LETTER XII.

Sir,

AFTER I had recover'd from a dangerous
Illness which was first contracted in Town,
about a Fortnight after my Coming hither, I
troubled you with a Letter, and a Paper in-
clos'd, which you had been so obliging as to
desire a Sight of, when last I saw you, pro-
mising me in return some Translations of yours
from Ovid; since when I have not had a Syl-
lable from your Hands; so that 'tis to be fear'd,
that tho' I have eſcap'd Death, I have not
Oblivion. I shou'd at least have expected you
to have finis'h'd that Elegy upon me, which
you told me you was upon the Point of Be-
ginning when I was sick in London; if you
will

will.

34 LETTERS to

will but do so much for me first, I will
give you leave to forget me afterwards; and
for my own Part will die at Discretion, and
at my Leisure. But I fear I must be forced
like many learned Authors, to write my own
Epitaph, if I would be remember'd at all;
*Monfieur de la Fontaine's* wou'd fit me to a
Hair, but it is a kind of Sacrilege, (do you
think it is not?) to steal Epitaphs. In my
present, living, dead Condition, nothing wou'd
be properer than *Oblitufsque meorum, obliviscen-
dus & illis* — but that unluckily I can't
forget my Friends, and the Civilities I receiv'd
from one Mr. *Cromwell*, and some others.
They say indeed 'tis one Quality of generous
Minds to forget the Obligations they have con-
ferr'd, and perhaps too it may be so, to forget
those on whom they conferr'd 'em? Then in-
deed I must be forgotten to all Intents and
Purposes! I am, it must be own'd, dead in a
natural Capacity, according to Mr. *Bickerstaff*;
dead in a Poetical Capacity, as a damn'd Au-
thor; and dead in a civil Capacity, as a use-
less Member of the Common-wealth bury'd
in Solitude: But reflect, dear Sir, what melan-
choly Effects may ensue, if dead Men are not
civil to one another? If he who has nothing
to do himself will not comfort and support
another in his Idlenefs? If those who are to
die themselves will not now and then pay the
Charity of visiting a Tomb and a dead Friend,
and strowing a few Flow'rs over him? In
the Shades where I am, the Inhabitants have
a mutual Compassion for each other: Being
all alike *Inanes*, and *Umbratiles*, we faunter to
one another's Habitations, and daily affix each
other in doing nothing at all; all this I men-
tion

36

LETTERS to

LETTER XIII.

Dear Sir,

June 24th. 1710.

TIS very natural for a young Friend, and
a young Lover, to think the Persons
they love have nothing to do but to please
them; when perhaps they, for their Parts, had
twenty other Engagements before. This was
my Cafe when I wonder'd I did not hear
from you; but I no sooner receiv'd your short
Letter, but I forgot your long Silence; and
so many fine Things as you said of me cou'd
not but have wrought a Cure on my own
Sickneſs, if it had not been of the Nature of
that, which is deaf to the Voice of the Char-
mer. 'Twas impoffible you cou'd have better
time'd your Complement on my Philofophy;
it was certainly propereſt to commend me for
it juſt when I moſt needed it, and when I cou'd
leaſt be proud of it; that is, when I was in
Pain. 'Tis not eaſy to expreſs what an Ex-
altation it gave to my Spirits, above all the
Cordials of my Doctor; and 'tis no Compli-
ment to tell you, that your Compliments
were sweeter than the sweeteſt of his Juleps
and Syrups. But if you will not believe so
much,

Pour le moins, vôtre Compliment
M'a soulagé dans ce moment;
Et des qu'on me l'eſt venu faire,
J'ay chafſé mon Apoticaire,
Et renvoyé mon Lavement.

Never-

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſq; 37

Nevertheless I wou'd not have you entirely
lay aside the Thoughts of my Epitaph, any
more than I do those of the Probability of my
becoming (e're long) the Subject of one. For
Death has of late been very familiar with
some of my Size; I am told my Lord Lum-
ley and Mr. Litton are gone before me; and
tno' I may now without Vanity eſteem my-
felf the leaſt thing like a Man in England, yet
I can't but be ſorry two Heroes of ſuch a
Make ſhou'd die inglorious in their Beds; when
it had been a Fate more worthy our Size, had
they met with theirs from an Irruption of Cranes,
or other warlike Animals, that of old were
Enemies to our Pygmæan Anceſtors! You of
a ſuperior Species little regard what befals us,
Homunciolos Sefquipedales; however you have
no Reaſon to be ſo unconcern'd, ſince all
Phyſicians agree, there is no greater Sign of
a Plague among Men, than Mortality among
Frogs. I was the other Day in Company
with a Lady, who rally'd my Perſon ſo much,
as to cauſe a total Subverſion of my Counte-
nance: Some Days after, to be reveng'd on
her, I preſented her among other Company the
following Rendeau on that Occafion, which I
defire you to ſhow Sapho.

You know where you did despife
(T'other Day) my little Eyes,
Little Legs, and little Thighs,
And some Things of little Size,
You know where.

You, 'tis true, have fine black Eyes,
Taper Legs, and tempting Thighs,
E

Yes

38 LETTERS to

Yet what more than all we prize
Is a Thing of little Size,
You know where.

This Sort of Writing call'd the Rondeau is
what I never knew practis'd in our Nation,
and I verily believe it was not in Use with
the Greeks or Romans, neither Macrobius nor
Hyginus taking the least notice of it. 'Tis to
be observed, that the vulgar Spelling and Pro-
nouncing it Round O, is a manifest Corruption,
and by no means to be allow'd of by Criticks.
Some may mistakenly imagine that it was a
Sort of Rondeau which the Gallic Soldiers sung
in Cæsar's Triumph over Gaul— Gallias
Cæsar subegit, &c. as it is recorded by Sueto-
nius in Julio: And so derive its Original from
the antient Gauls to the modern French; but
this is erroneous, the Words there, not being ex-
actly rang'd according to the Laws of the Ron-
deau, as laid down by Clement Marot. If you
will say that the Song of the Soldiers might be
but the rude Beginning of this Kind of Poem,
and so consequently imperfect, neither Hen-
fius nor I are of that Opinion; and so I con-
clude, that we know nothing of the Mat-
ter.

But, Sir, I ask your Pardon for all this
Buffoonry, which I cou'd not addrefs to any
one so well as to you, since I have found
by Experience, you most easily forgive my
Impertinencies. 'Tis only to show you that
I am mindful of you at all Times, that I
write at all; and as nothing that I can say
can be worth your Reading, so I may as well
throw out what comes uppermost, as study to
be dull. When you are very idle, I hope to
hear

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 39

hear from you, for at such Times you may
remember there is in the World such a Thing
as

Dear S I R,

Your most faithful

and humble Servant,

A. POPE.

P. S. Mr. Englefyld always enquires of you,
and drinks yours and Mr. Wycherley's Health
with true Country Affection. He charges me
to give you his most humble Service, and hopes
the Ladies of Drury are no lesf favourable to
you now, than the Dames of Paris were for-
merly.

LETTER XIV.

Dear Sir,

August 21. 1710.

YOUR Letters are a perfect Charity to a
Man as much bury'd in Retirement as
ever Hermit was, utterly forgotten of all his
Friends but you; for since Mr. Wycherley left
London, I have not heard a Word from him;
tho' just before, and once since, I writ to
him, and ino' I know my self guilty of no
Offence but of doing sincerely, just what he
bid me. ——*Hoc mihi Libertas, hoc pia Lingua
dedit!* But the greatest Injury he does me is

E 2

the

40

LETTERS to

the keeping me in Ignorance of his Welfare,
which I am always very sollicitous for, and
very uneasy in the Fear of any Indisposition
that may befal him. — I just now receiv'd
Notice from one whom I desir'd to enquire
of your Health, that you shall be in Town
this Fortnight, and then design for Lincolnshire;
before which I hope to hear from you, not be-
ing able to see you as I fully intended to have
done this Week; I expect a Solution of the
Queries I sent you some Time ago, where I
think you have not Verfe enough to be severe
upon, in Revenge for my last Criticism, in
one Point of which I must perſt, that is to
ſay, my Diflike of your Paradife, in which I
take no Pleasure; I know very well that in
Greek 'tis not only us'd by Xenophon, but is a
common Word for any Garden; but in En-
glish it ever bears the Signification, and con-
veys the Idea of Eden, which alone is (I think)
a Reafon againſt making Ovid uſe it, who
will be thought to talk too like a Chriſtian
in your Verſion at least, whatever it might
have been in Latin or Greek. As for all the
reſt of my Remarks, ſince you do not laugh
at 'em as at this, I can be so civil as not to
lay any Streſs upon 'em (as I think I told you
before) and in particular in the Point of Trees
enjoying, you have, I muſt own, fully ſatisfy'd
me that the Expression is not only defenſible,
but beautiful. I ſhall be very glad to see your
Tranſlation of ——Ad Amicam navigantem,
as ſoon as you can; for (without a Complement to you) every thing you write either in
Verſe or Proſe, is moſt welcome to me; and
you may be confident, (if my Opinion can
be of any Sort of Conſequence to any thing)

that

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſq; 4L

that I will never be unfincere, tho' I may
be often miftaken. To use Sincerity with
you is but paying you in your own Coin,
from whom I have experienc'd so much of it;
and I need not tell you how much I real-
ly eſteem and admire you, when I aſſure you
I eſteem and admire nothing in the World so
much as that Quality. I know you ſometimes
ſay civil Things to me in your Epiſtolary
Style, but thofe I am to make Allowance for,
as particinlarly when you talk of *Admiring* ;
'tis a Word you are ſo us'd to in Converſa-
tion of Ladies, that it will creep into your
Expreſſions in Spite of you, ev'n to your
Friends. But as Women when they think
themselves ſecure of Admiration, commit a
thouſand Negligencies, which ſhow them ſo
much at Diſadvantage, and off of their Guard,
as to lobe the little real Eſteem or Love they
had before: ſo when Men imagine others en-
tertain ſome Eſteem for their Abilities, they
often expoſe all their Imperfections, and fool-
ſh Works, to the Diſparagement of the little
Wit they were thought Maſters of: I am go-
ing to exemplify this to you, in putting into
your Hands (being encourag'd by ſo much
Indulgence) ſome Verſes of my Youth, or ra-
ther Childhood; which (as I was a great Ad-
mirer of *Waller*) were intended in Imitation
of his Manner; and are perhaps, ſuch Imita-
tions, as thofe which awkward Country Dames
make, after the fine and well-bred Ladies of
the Court. If you will take 'em with you
into *Lincolnsħire*, they may ſerve to ſave you
one Hour from the Converſation of the Coun-
try Gentlemen and their Tenants, (who differ
but in Drefs and Name) which (it it be there

E 3

as

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 43

well as most other Satisfactions of my Life: However I may say one good Thing of Sickness, that it is the best Cure in the World for Ambition, and Designs upon the World or Fortune; it makes a Man pretty indifferent for the future, provided he can but be easy, by Intervals, for the present. He will be content to compound for his Quiet only, and leave all the circumstantial Part and Pomp of Life to those, who have a Health vigorous enough to enjoy all the Difficulties of their Desires. I thank God, there is nothing out of myself which I would be at the Trouble of seeking, except a Friend; a Happineſs I once hop'd to have poffeſs'd in Mr. Wycherley; but—Quantum mutatus ab illo!—

I have for some Years been employ'd much like Children that build Houses with Cards, endeavouring very busily and eagerly to raife a Friendship, which the first Breath of any ill-natur'd By-stander cou'd puff away. But I will trouble you no farther with writing, nor my self with thinking of this Subject.

I was mightily pleas'd to perceive by your Quotation from *Voiture*, that you had track'd my Muse's Steps backward so far as *France*. You see'tis with weak Heads as with weak Stomachs, they immediately throw out what they receiv'd last. And what they read, floats upon the Surface of their Minds, like Oil upon Waters, without incorporating. This, I think, however can't be said of the Juvenile Love Verses I last troubled you with, where all (I am afraid) is so Puerile, and so like the Author, that no Body will suspect any thing to be borrow'd. Yet you, (as a Friend, entertaining

LETTERS to

44

tertaining a better Opinion of 'em) it seems,
search'd in *Waller*, but search'd in vain. Your
Judgment of 'em which you give in *French*,
is (I think) very right,—for it was my own
Opinion before. If you think 'em not worth
the Trouble of correcting, pray tell me so
freely, and it will save me a Labour; if you
think the contrary, you wou'd particularly ob-
lige me by your Remarks in the Margins on
the several Thoughts as they occur, and fend-
ing them when you have done.—I long
to be nibling at your Verses, and have not
forgot who promis'd me *Ovid's* Elegy ad *Ami-
cam Navigantem* ? Had *Ovid* been as long com-
posing it, as you fending it, the Lady might
have fail'd to *Gades*, and receiv'd it at her
Return. I have really a great Itch of Criticis'm
upon me, but want Matter here in the Coun-
try; which I desire you to furnish me with,
as I do you in the Town.

*Sic servat Studii Fædera quifque fui.*

I am oblig'd to Mr. *Caryl* (whom you tell
me you met at *Epsom*) for telling you Truth,
as a Man is in these Days to any one that
will tell Truth to one's Advantage, and I think
no Truth is more to mine, than what he told
you, and I should be glad to tell all the
World that I have an extream Affection and
Efteem for you.

*Tecum eienim longos memini consumere soles,
Et tecum primas Epulis decerpere Noctes,
Unum Opus & Requiem pariter disponimus am-
bo,
Atque verecunda laxamus feria Mensa.*

By

46 LETTERS to

Phaon lately fled from her into Lincoln-
shire.

Tu—Leucadia potes effe salubrior unda,
Et Forma & Meritis tu Phœbus eris.

My Pylades ! what Juv'nal says, no Jest is;
Scriptus & in Tergo, nec dum finitus Ore-
ites.

LETTER XVI.

Dear Sir,

October 28th. 1710.

I AM glad to find by your last Letter that
you write to me with the Freedom of a
Friend, fetting down your Thoughts as they
occur, and dealing plainly with me in the
Matter of my own Trifles, which I assure you I
never valu'd half so much as I do that Sincerity
in you which they were the Occasion of disco-
vering to me; and which while I am happy
in, I may be trusted with that dangerous Wea-
pon, Poetry; since I shall do nothing with
it but after asking and following your Ad-
vice. I value Sincerity the more, as I find
by sad Experience, the Practice of it is more
dangerous; Writers rarely pardoning the Exe-
cutioners of their Veres, ev'n tho' themselves
pronounce Sentence upon them. — As to
Mr. Philips's Pastorals, I take the first to be
infinitely the best, and the second the worst;
the third is for the greatest Part a Translation
from Virgil's Daphnis, and I think a good
one. I will not forestal your Judgment of
the

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 47

the rest, only observe that in that of the Nightingale, there are some very fine Lines, and these in particular, (speaking of the Musician's Playing on the Harp.)

Now lightly skimming o'er the Strings they pass,
Like Winds that gently brush the plying Graphs,
And melting Airs arise at their command;
And now, laborious, with a weighty Hand,
He sinks into the cords, with solemn Pace,
And gives the swelling Tones a manly Grace.

To which nothing can be objected, but
that they are too lofty for Pastoral, especially
being put into the Mouth of a Shepherd, as
they are here; in the Poet's own Person they
had been (I believe) more proper. These are
more after Virgil's Manner than that of Theocritus,
whom yet in the Character of Pastoral
he rather seems to imitate. In the whole, I
agree with the Tatler, that we have no better
Eclogues in our Language. This Gentleman
(if I am not much mistaken in his Talent)
is capable of writing very nobly, as I guess
by a small Copy of his, publish'd in the Tatler,
Nº 12. on the Danish Winter: 'Tis a very lively
Piece of Poetical Painting, and I recommend
it particularly to your Perusal.

Dr. Garth's Poem I have not yet seen, but
believe I shall be of that Critic's Opinion
you mention at Will's, whofwore it was good:
For tho' I am very cautious of swearing after
Critics, yet I think one may do it more
safely when they commend, than when they
blame.

I agree with you in your Censure of the
Use of Sea Terms in Mr. Dryden's Virgil;
not

48 LETTERS to

not only because Helenus was no great Prophet in those Matters, but because no Terms of Art, or Cant-Words, suit with the Majesty and Dignity of Stile which Epic Poetry requires.

— Cui mens divinior, atque os magna soniturum.

— The Tarpawlin Phrase can please none but such Qui Aurem habent Batavam; they must not expect Auribus Atticis probari, I find by you. (I think I have brought in two Phrases of Martial here very dextrously.)

Tho' you say you did not rightly take my Meaning in the Verse I quoted from Juvenal, in my last, yet I will not explain it; because tho' it seems you are resolved to take me for a Critic, I would by no means be thought a Commentator.

— And for another Reason too, because I have quite forgot both the Verse and the Application.

I hope it will be no Offence to give my most hearty Service to Mr. Wycherley, tho' I perceive by his last Letter to me, I am not to trouble him with my Letters, since he there told me he was going instantly out of Town, and till his Return was my Servant, &c. I guess by yours he is yet with you, and beg you to do what you may with all Truth and Honour, that is, assure him I have ever borne all the Respect and Kindness imaginable to him, and all that is his. I protest by all that is Holy, I do not in the least know to this Hour what it is that has estrang'd him from me; but all this I know, that he may for the future be more safely and less chargeable my Friend, since no Invitation he can make shall ever more make me so free with him. I could not have thought any Man had been

50 LETTERS to

took Tycho Brache for one of the Antients,
or in the least an Acquaintance of Lucan's;
nay, 'tis a Mercy on this Occasion that I do
not give you an Account of his Life and Con-
versation, which perhaps I know a little more
of than you imagine; as how he liv'd some
Years like an enchanted Knight in a certain
Island, with a Tale into the Bargain of a King
of Denmark's Miftres that shall be namelefs.
—But I have Compassion on you, and wou'd
not for the World you should stay any lon-
ger among the Genii and Semidei Manes, you
know where; for if once you get so near
the Moon, Sapho will want your Prefence
in the Clouds, and inferior Regions; not to
mention the great Lofs Drury-lane will suftain,
when Mr. Cromwell is in the milky Way.
These cœleftial Thoughts put me in mind of
the Priests you mention, who are a Sort of
Sortiles i in one Sense, because in their Lotte-
ry, there are more Blanks than Prizes; the Ad-
venturers being at best in an Uncertainty, where-
as the Setters up are sure of something. Priests
indeed in their Character, as they represent
God, are sacred; and so are Constables as they
represent the King; but you will own a great
many of 'em are very odd Fellows, and the
Devil a Bit of Likeneſs in 'em. Yet I do
affure you, I honour the good as much as I
destem the bad, and I think, that in condemn-
ing these, we praise those. I am so far from
eſteeming ev'n the worst unworthy of my
Protection, that I have defended their Character
(in Congreve's and Vanbrugh's Plays) ev'n a-
gainſt their own Brethren. And so much
for Priests in general, now for Trapp in parti-
cular, whose Translations from Ovid I have
not

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſq; 5R

not so good an Opinion of as you; not (I will affure you) on Account of any Sort of Prejudice to him as a Prieſt, but becauſe, I think, he has nothing of the main Characteriſtick of his Author, a graceful Eauineſs. For let the Senſe be never so exacely render'd, unleſs an Author looks like himſelf in his Air, Habit, and Manner, 'tis a Difguife and not a Translation. But as to the Pſalm, I think David is much more beholding to him than Ovid; and as he treated the Roman like a ſew, so he has made the ſew ſpeak like a Roman.

Your Mention in this and your laſt Letter of the Defect in Numbers of ſeveral of our Poets, puts me upon communicating a ſew Thoughts, or rather Doubts of mine on that Head, ſome of which 'tis likely I may have hinted to you formerly in Converſation: But I will here put together all the little Niſeties I can recollect in the Compaſs of my Observation.

(1.) As to the Hiatus, it is certainly to be avoided as often as possible; but on the other Hand, ſince the Reaſon of it is only for the Sake of the Numbers, so if, to avoid it, we incur another Fault againſt their Smoothneſs, methinks the very End of that Nicety is deſtroy'd: As when we ſay (for Inſtance) But th' Old have Interſt ever in their View.

To avoid the Hiatus, in—

— The Old have Int'reſt —

Does not the Ear in this Place tell us, that the Hiatus is ſmoother, leſs conſtrain'd, and ſo preferable to the Cæſura?

F 2

(2.) I

52

LETTERS to

(2.) I wou'd except all againſt Expletives in
Verſe, as *do* before Verbs plural, or ev'n too fre-
quent Use of *did* or *does*, to change the Ter-
mination of the Rhime; all theſe being againſt
the usual Manner of Speech, and meer Fillers
up of unnecessary Syllables.

(3) Monosyllable-Lines, unleſs very art-
fully manag'd, are ſtiff, languifhing, and hard.

(4.) The repeating the ſame Rhimes within
four or ſix Lines of each other; which
tire the Ear with too much of the like
Sound.

(5.) The too frequent Use of Alexandrines,
which are never graceful but when there is ſome
Majeſtly added to the Verſe by 'em, or when
there cannot be found in 'em a Word but
what is absolutely needful.

(6.) Every nice Ear, muſt (I believe) have
obſerv'd, that in any ſmooth English Verſe of
ten Syllables, there is naturally a Pauſe at the
fourth, fifth, or fixth Syllable, as for Example,
Waller.

—At the fifth. Where-e'er thy Navy | ſpreads
her Canvaſs Wings,

—At the fourth. Homage to thee | and Peace
to all ſhe brings.

—At the fixth. Like Tracts of Leverets | in
Morning Snow.

Now I fancy, that to preserve an exact Har-
mony and Variety, none of theſe Pauſes ſhou'd
be continu'd above three Lines together, with-
out the Interpoſition of another; eſſe it will
be

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 53

be apt to weary the Ear with one continu'd
Tone; at least it does mine.

(7.) It is not enough that nothing offends
the Ear, that the Verse be (as the French call
it) *Coulante*; but a good Poet will adapt the
very Sounds, as well as Words, to the Things
he treats of. So that there is (if one may
express it so) a Style of Sound: As in descri-
bing a gliding Stream, the Numbers should run
easy and flowing, in describing a rough Tor-
rent or Deluge, sonorous and swelling, and
so of the rest. This is evident every where
in *Homer* and *Virgil*, and no where else that I
know of to any observable Degree. The fol-
lowing Examples will make this very plain,
which I have taken from *Vida*.

Molle viam tacito lapsu per levia radit.
Incedit tardo molimine subsidendo.
Lucentes ventos, Tempeftatesque sonoras.
Immenſo cum præcipitans ruit Oceano Nox.
Telum imbelle fine iſt(u, conjecit.
Tolle Moras, cape saxa Manu, cape robora
Paſtor,
Ferte citi Flammas, date telas repellite peftem.

This, I think, is what very few obſerve in
Prætice, and is undoubtedly of wonderful
Force in imprinting the Image on the Rea-
der: We have one excellent Example of
this in our Language, Mr. Dryden's Ode on
St. Cæcilia's Day, entitled, Alexander's Feaſt: or
The Power of Muſick.

I ask your Pardon for this tedious Letter,
and expect a long one in Anſwer to these
Notions concerning. Veriſication. I expect

F 3

also

54 LETTERS to

also the Voyage of Ovid's Misforts with more
Impatience than Ovid himself could her Re-
turn. The other Journey you speak of, (mine
to London) must yet be deferred; but tho' I
desire nothing more than to enjoy the Happi-
ness of your Conversation, yet I have too
much Conscience to let mine cost you any
thing but your Patience. I am heartily sorry
for poor Mr. Wycherley's Illness, and 'tis to
his being long indispos'd that I partly attribute
his Chagrin. I wish he may enjoy all the
Happiness he desires, tho' he has been the Occa-
sion of my enjoying much less than I did
formerly. I look upon your Kindness to me
as doubly engaging at this Time, and shall
never cease to acknowledge it, or to profess
my self,

Dear S I R,

A. POPE.

LETTER XVIII.

Dear Sir,

June 10th. 1711.

I WAS extreamly concern'd to leave you ill
when I parted from the Town, and defir'd
Mr. Thorold to give me an Account of the
State of your Health by the next Coach:
He omitted to do it, and I have been since
at

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 55

at Mr. Englefyld's, till yesterday, when I received the ill News that you continu'd ill, or much as I left you: I hope this is not true, and shall be very uneafy in my Fears for your Health till I have a farther Account from your self, which I beg you not to defer. I hope the Air of this Foreft may perfectly recover you, and wifh you wou'd to that end try it sooner than the End of the Month; if you defire Mr. Thorold, he will at a Day's Warning take a Place for you. My Father joins in this Requeſt, and Mr. Englefyld is overjoy'd with the Hopes of ſeeing you at his Houſe. When I have your Company I cannot but be well, and hope from the Knowledge of this, that you can't be very ill in mine. I beg you to believe no Man can take a greater Intereft in your Welfare, or be more heartily affected towards you than my ſelf; who am with all the Eſteem and Tenderneſs of a Friend,

Dear S I R,

Your faithful
humble Servant,

A. POPE.

LETTER

56

LETTERSTO

LETTER XIX.

Dear Sir,

June 25th. 1711.

IF my Letter pleas'd you, yours overjoy'd
me; and I expect impatiently your kind Vi-
fit: A little Room and a little Heart are both
at your Service, and you may be secure of
being easy in 'em at least, tho' not happy.
For you shall go just your own Way, and
keep your own Hours, which is more than
can be done often in Places of greater Enter-
tainment. — As to your Letter of Critical
Remarks on Dryden's VIRGIL, I can only say,
most of what you observe are true enough,
but of no great Consequence (in my Opinion
at least) Line 250. And sanctify the Shame—
feems to me very beautiful; and so does—
'tis doubly to be dead. Line 946. And bandy'd
Words fill beat about his Ears,— This I have
thought gross as well as you; I agree with you
that the 993d Line (And clos'd her Lids at last
in endless Night)—is contradictory to the Sense
of Virgil, for so, as you say, Iris might have
been spar'd. And in the main, 'tis to be con-
fess'd that the Translator has been freer with
the Character of Dido than his modeft Author
wou'd allow. I am just taking Horfe to see
a Friend five Miles off, that I have no little
Visits abroad to interrupt my Happineſs at
Home when you are here. So that I can
but just assure you, how pleas'd I am in the
Expectation

58

LETTERS to

Nil mibi reſcribas, attamen ipſe veni.

P. S. Mr. Lintot favour'd me with a Sight of Mr. Dennis's Piece of fine Satire* before 'twas publish'd; I desire you to read it, and give me your Opinion, in what Manner ſuch a Critick ought to be anſwer'd?

LETTER XX.

Dear Sir,

I SEND this only to let you know how much our whole Family desire to hear of your safe Arrival in London, and the Continuance of your Health: You have, without Compliment, oblig'd us all so much by your Friendly Acceptance of so poor an Entertainment here, that you cou'd by nothing have oblig'd us more, but by staying longer. But I take so ſhort a Visit only as an earneſt of a more kind one hereafter; as we juſt call upon a Friend sometimes only to tell him he ſhall see us again. — All you ſaw in this Country charge me to affure you of their humble Service, and the Ladies in particular, who look upon us but as plain Country-Fellows ſince they ſaw you, and heard more civil Things in that Fortnight, than they expect from the whole Shire of us, in an Age. The Trophy you bore away from one of 'em, in your Snuff-box, will doubtlesſ preserve her Memory, and be a Testimony of your Admiration, for ever.

* *Remarks on the Eſſay on Criticism.* As

HENRY CROMWELL, E/sq; 59

As long as Moco's happy Tree shall grow,
While Berries crackle, or while Mills shall go;
While smoaking Streams from silver Spouts shall glide,
Or China's Earth receive the fable Tide;
While Coffee shall to British Nymphs be dear;
While fragrant Steams the bended Head shall shear;
Or grateful Bitters shall delight the Tafe,
So long her Honour, Name and Praise, shall laft!

Pray give my Service to all my few Friends,
and to Mr. Gay in particular. Farewell,
that is, drink strong Coffee. Ingere tibi calices,
amariores. I am, with all Sincerity,

Dear S I R,

July 15th. 1711.

Your most faithful Friend,
and humble Servant,

A. POPE.

LETTER XXI.

Dear Sir,

I Receiv'd your most welcome Letter, and
am afham'd you fhou'd seem to give us
Thanks, where you ought to affure us of
Pardon, for so ill an Entertainment. Your he-
roick

60 LETTERS to

roick Intention of Flying to the Relief of a
distressed, Lady, was glorious, and noble; such
as might be expected from your Character, for
as Chaucer says (I think)

As nobleft Metals are moft soft to melt,
So Pity sooneft runs in gentle Minds.

But what you tell me of her Relations Ac-
count of the State of her Mind, is not to be
wonder'd at 'Tis the eafeft Way they have
to make some feeming Excufe for a fhameful
Indolence and Neglect of afflicted Virtue, to
represent it as willing to ſuffer, and endure
the Croſs. Alas Sir! These good People of
large Eſtates, and little Souls, have no mind
to eafe her, by bearing it off her Shoulders by
a generous Affiſtance! Our Saviour himſelf
did not refufe to be eas'd of the Weight of
Part of his Croſs; tho' perhaps Simon of Cy-
rene might alledge to the Jews that 'twas
Christ's Desire to bear it all himſelf; and he,
for his Part, might be willing to go quietly
on his Journey, without the Trouble.

Be pleas'd to affure Mr. *Ballam* of my faithful Service: I can never enough eſteem a Zeal ſo ardent in my Concerns, from one I never cou'd any Way oblige, or induce to it. 'Tis an Effect of the pureſt, moſt diſintreated Strain of natural Good-humour in the World. Pray at your Leifure return me thoſe Papers in *my* Hand which you have, and in Mr. *Wycherley's*, and favour me as often as you can with your Letters, which will ever be the moſt entertaining Things I can receive in your Absence.—All thoſe fine Persons you mention return you their humble Service—The Fate

62 LETTERS to

Horse, and what not? What an agreeable Surprise wou'd it have been to me, to have met you by pure Accident at Bagshot, which I was within an Ace of doing, being at Hallgrove that very Day? And to have carry'd you off triumphantly to Binfield, set you on an easier Pad, and relieve'd the wandring Knight with a Night's Lodging, and rural Repaft, at our Castle in the Forest? But these are only the pleasing Imaginations and amorous Ideas of a disappointed Lover, who must suffer in a melancholy Absence yet these two Months. In the mean time, I take up with the Muses for Want of your better Company; the Muses, Quæ nobiscum pernoctant, peregrinantur, rufticantur. Those aerial Ladies just discover enough to me of their Beauties to urge my Purfuit, and draw me in a wandring Maze of Thought, still in Hopes (and only in Hopes) of attaining those Favours from 'em, which they confer on their more happy Admirers elsewhere. We grafp some more beautiful Idea in our Brain, than our Endeavours to express it can set to the View of others; and still do but labour to fall short of our first Imagination. The gay Colouring which Fancy gave to our Design at the first transient Glance we had of it, goes off in the Execution; like those various Figures in the gilded Clouds, which while we gaze long upon, to separate the Parts of each imaginary Image, the whole faints before the Eye, and decays into Confusion.

I am highly pleas'd with the Knowledge you give me of Mr. Wycherley's present Temper, which seems so favourable to me. I shall ever have such a Fund of Affection for him as to be

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 63

be agreeable to myself when I am so to him,
and cannot but be gay when he's in Good-hum-
mour, as the Surface of the Earth (if you will
pardon a Poetical Similitude) is clearer, or
gloomier, just as the Sun is brighter, or more
overcast. — I should be glad to see the Vers-
es to Lintot* which you mention, for methinks,
something very oddly agreeable may be pro-
duced from that Subject. — For what re-
mains; I am so well, that nothing but the
Assurance of your being so, can make me
better; and if you would have me live with
any Satisfaction, these dark Days in which I
cannot see you, it must be by your writing some-
times to,

Dear S I R,

Your most affectionate

Friend, and most

humble Servant,

A. POPE.

LETTER XXIII.

Dear Sir,

IF I have not writ to you so soon as I
ought, let my Writing now attone for the
Delay; as it will infallibly do, when you

* A Receipt to make a Miscellany. By Mr. Gay.

G 2

know

64 LETTERS to

know what a Sacrifice I make you at this
Time, and that every Moment my Eyes are
employ'd upon this Paper, they are taken off
from two of the finest Faces in the Universe:
For I am at this Instant plac'd betwixt two
such Ladies, that in good Faith 'tis all I'm a-
ble to do, to keep myself in my Skin. He!
*Monfieur Cromwell! Entendez-vous bien ?* But
indeed 'tis some Confolation to me to confi-
der, that while I but write this Period, I ef-
cape some hundred fatal Darts from those un-
erring Eyes, and about a thousand Deaths, or
better. Now you, that delight in dying, wou'd
not once have dreamt of an absent Friend in
these Circumstances; you that are so nice an
Admirer of Beauty, or (as a Critic wou'd say)
*so elegant a Spectator of Forms*? You must have
a sober Dish of Coffee, and a solitary Candle
at your Side, to write an Epistle Lucubrato-
ry to your Friend; whereas I can do it as
well with two Pair of radiant Lights, that out-
shine the golden God of Day, and silver God-
defs of Night, with all the refulgent Eyes of
the Firmament. ——You fancy now that *Sa-
pho's* Eyes are a Couple of these my Tapers,
but it is no such Matter, Sir; these are Eyes
that have more Perfection in one Glance than
all *Sapho's* Oratory and Gesture together, let
her put her Body into what *moving Postures*
she pleafes. Indeed, indeed, my Friend, you
cou'd never have found so improper a Time
to tempt me with Interest or Ambition: Let
me but have the Reputation of these in my
Keeping, and as for my own, let the Devil,
or let *Dennis* take it for ever. How gladly
wou'd I give all I am worth, that is to say,
*my Pastorals* for one of their *Maidenheads*,
and

HENRY CROMWELL, Eſſ; 65

and my *Eſſay* * for the other ? I wou'd lay
out all my *Poetry* in *Love*; an *Original* for
a *Lady*, and a *Transflation* for a *waiting Maid!*
And now (since you find what a bleſſed Dif-
poſition I am in)

Tell me, by all the melting Joys of Love,
By the warm Transports and entrancing Lan-
guors,
By the soft Fannings of the waſting Sheets,
By the dear Tremblings of the Bed of Blifſ;
By all these tender Adjurations tell me,
—Am I not fit to write a Tragedy ?

And would not these Lines found admirably in the Mouth of Wilks, especially if he humour'd each Period with his Leg, and stamp'd with juſt Alacrity at the Cadences ? But alas! what have I to do with Jane Gray, as long as Mifs Molly, Mifs Betty, or Mifs Patty are in this World ? Shall I write of Beauties murder'd long ago, when there are thofe at this inſtant that murder me ? I'll e'en compose my own Tragedy, and the Poet ſhall appear in his own Perſon, to move Compaſſion. 'Twill be far more effectual than Bays's entring with a Rope about his Neck, and the World will own, there never was a more miferable Objeſt brought upon the Stage.

Now you that are a Critic, pray inform
me in what Manner I may connect the fore-
going Part of this Letter, with that which is
to follow, according to the Rules ? I wou'd

* On Criticism.
G 3

willingly

66 LETTERS to

willingly return Mr. Gay my Thanks for the
Favour of his Poem, and in particular for
his kind Mention of me; I hop'd, when I
heard a new Comedy had met with Succeſs
upon the Stage, that it had been his, to which
I really wifh no leſs; and (had it been any
Way in my Power) ſhou'd have been very glad
to have contributed to its Introduction into
the World. His Verſes to Lintot * have put
a Whim into my Head, which you are like
to be troubled with in the oppoſite Page.
Take it as you find it, the Production of
half an Hour t'other Morning. I deſign very
ſoon to put a Task of a more ſerious Nature
upon you, in reviewing a Piece of mine that
may better deferve Criticifm; and by that Time
you have done with it, I hope to tell you
in Perſon, with how much Ardour and Fide-
lity I am,

Dear SIR,

A. POPE.

* On a Miscellany of Poems.

Verses

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 67

*Verses to be prefix'd before Bernard Lintot's*
*New Miscellany.*

SOME Colinæus praisè, some Bleau,
Others account 'em but so, so;
Some Plantin to the rest prefer,
And some esfeem Old-Elzevir;
Others with Aldus wou'd befot us;
I, for my part, admire Lintottus—
His Character's beyond Compare,
Like his own Person, large and fair—
They print their Names in Letters small,
But LINTOT stands in Capital :
Author, and He, with equal Grace,
Appear, and stare you in the Face,—
Stephens prints Heathen Greek, 'tis said,
Which some can't construe, some can't read;
But all that comes from Lintot's Hand
Ev'n Rawlinson * might understand.*—
Oft in an Aldus, or a Plantin,
A Page is blotted, or Leaf wanting;
Of Lintot's Books this can't be said,
All fair, and not so much as read.—
Their Copy cost 'em not a Penny
To Homer, Virgil, or to any,

* Thomas Rawlinson Esq; lately Deceas'd.

They

HENRY CROMWELL, Esq; 69

Original. And I desire you to be the more
fevere, as it is much more criminal for me to
make another speak Nonſense, than to do it in
my own proper Person. For your better Help
in comparing, it may be proper to tell you,
that this is not an entire Verſion of the first
Book. There is an Omission from the 128th
Line of the Latin, which begins, — *Sævus*
*Amor ruptæque vices* — to the 143d —
*At nondum Craffo*— and again from the
167th Line— *Jam murmura serpunt Plebis*
*Agenoreæ*— to the 310th *Interea Patriis*
*olim wagus exul ab oris*— (between these
two last Places *Statius* has a noble Descripti-
of the *Council* of the Gods, and a Speech of
*Jupiter*; which contain a peculiar Beauty and
Majesty; and were left out for no other
Reason, but because the Conſequence of this
Machine appears not till the 2d Book) The
Translaſion goes on from thence to the Words
*Hic vero ambobus rabiem fortuna cruentem*
where there is an odd Account of an un-
mannerly Battle at Fifty-cuffs between the two
*Princes* on a very flight Occafion, and at a
Time when one wou'd think the Fatigue
of their Journey in ſo tempeſtuous a Night,
might have render'd them very unfit for ſuch
a Scuffle. This I had actually translated, but
was very ill ſatisfy'd with it, ev'n in my own
Words, to which an Author cannot but be
partial enough of Conſcience; it was therefore
omitted in this Copy, which goes on above
eighty Lines farther, at the Words — *Hic*
*primum luftrare Oculis, &c.* — to the End
of the Book.

You will find, I doubt not, upon reading,
that *Statius* was none of the diſcreetest Poets,
though

70

LETTERS to

tho' he was the best Verifier next Virgil: In
the very Beginning he unluckily betrays his
Ignorance in the Rules of Poetry, (which
Herace had already taught the Romans) when
he asks his Mufe, where to begin his THEBAID,
and seems to doubt whether it should not be.
ab Ævo Ledæo? When he comes to the Scene
of his Poem, and the Prize in Dispute between
the Brothers, he gives us a very mean Opinion
of it — Pugna eſt de paupere regno.— Very
different from the Conduct of his Maſter Vir-
gil, who at the Entrance of his Poem informs
his Reader of the Greatneſs of its Subjeſt,—
Tantæ molis erat Romanam condere Gentem.
There are innumerable little Faults in him,
among which I cannot but take Notice of one
in this Book, where ſpeaking of the implaca-
ble Hatred of the Brothers, he ſays, The whole
World wou'd be too ſmall a Prize to repay ſo
much Impiety.

Quid si pretæretur crimine tanto
Limes uterque Poli, quem Sol emiſſus Eoo
Cardine, aut Portu vergens proſpectat Ibero?

This was pretty well one wou'd think al-
ready, but he goes on

Quæſque procul Terras obliquo Sydere tangit
Avius, aut Boreæ gelidas, madidive tepentes
Igne noti?

After all this, what cou'd a Poet think of, but
Heaven itself for the Prize, but what follows
is aſtoniſhing.

— Quid

HENRY CROMWELL, E/sq; 71

— Quid si Tyriæ Phrygiæve sub unum
Convectentur Opes ?

I do not remember to have met with so
great a Fall in any antient Author whatsoe-
ver. I shou'd not have infiſted so much on
the Faults of this Poet, if I did not hope you
wou'd take the fame Freedom with and re-
venge it upon his Translator. I ſhall be ex-
treamly glad if the reading this Eſſay can be
any Amuſement to you, the rather becauſe
I had the Diſtatisfaction to hear you have been
confin'd to your Chamber by an Illneſs, which
I fear was as troublesome a Companion as I
have ſometimes been to you in the fame Place;
where if ever you found any Pleaſure in my
Company, it muſt only have been that which
almost every Man takes in obſerving the Faults
and Follies of another; a Pleaſure which you
ſee I take Care to give you even in my Ab-
fence.

If you will oblige me at your Leisure with
the Confirmation of your Recovery, under your
own Hand, it will be extream grateful to me,
for next the Pleaſure of ſerving my Friends,
is that I take in hearing from them; and in
this Particular, as all others, I am beyond all
Acknowledgments oblig'd to our Friend Mr.
Wycherley, who, as if it were not enough to
have excell'd all Men in Wit, is reſolv'd to
excel them in Good-nature and Humanity too.
I know I need no Apology to you for ſpeak-
ing of Mr. Wycherley, whose Example as I
am proud of following in all Things, ſo in
nothing

74 POEMS on
That seem'd to fill the Name unworthy
Of fam'd Tom Durfy, or De-Urfe.

Fierce in the Cause, the Letters spoke all,
Liquids grew rough, and Mutes turn'd vocal;
Thofe four proud Syllables alone
Were silent, which kind Fate thought worthy
To run so smoothly, one by one,
In the great Name of Thomas Durfy.

N, by whom Names subflift, declar'd
To have no Place in this, was hard;
And Q maintain'd 'twas but his Due
Still to keep Company with U;
So hop'd to ſtand, as well as he,
In the great Name of Tom. Durſy.

E ſhow'd, a Comma ne'er cou'd claim
A Place in any Britifh Name;
Yet making here a perfect Botch,
Thruſts your poor Vowel from his Notch:
*Hiatus mihi valdè deftendus !*
From which good Jupiter defend us ;

Who'd

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

75

Who'd sooner quit our Part in thee,
Than be no Part of *Tom Durfy*.

B, and L, fwore Bl—d, and W—nds:
X, and Z, cry'd P—x, and Z—nds.
G fwore by G—d, it fhou'd not be,
And W wou'dn't loſe, not he,
An *English* Letter's Property
In the great Name of *Tom. Durſy*.

P proteſted, puff'd, and fwore,
He'd ne'er be ſerv'd ſo like a Beaſt,
He was a Piece of Emperor,
And made up half a Pope at leaſt.
C vow'd, he'd frankly have releas'd
His double Share in *Cæsar Caius*,
For only one in *Tom Durſeius*.

I Conſonant and Vowel too,
To *Jupiter* did humbly ſue,
That of his Grace he'd make a Patent,
To turn the Name into good *Latin*:
For tho' without them ('twas moſt clear)
Himſelf cou'd ne'er be *Jupiter*,
Yet they'd reſign that Poſt ſo high,
To be the Gen'tive *Durſei*.

H 2

In

76 POEMS on

In short, the rest were all in Fray,
From Chris-Croſs, to Et Cætera:
Ev'n they (meer Standers by) too mutter'd,
Dipthongs and Tripthongs ſwere and ſtutter'd
That none had so much Right to be
Part of the Name of ſtutt'ring T—
T— Tom—a—Aſſ D—Dur—f—fy.

Then Jove thus spake with Care and Pain
We form'd this Name renown'd in Rhyme,
Not thine immortal Neuf-Germain,
Coſt ſtudious Providence more Time,
Yet now, as then, You all declare,
From hence to Ægypt you'll repair,
And turn ſtrange Hieroglyphicks there,
Rather than Letters longer be,¹
Unleſs i'th' Name of Tom Durſy.

Were you all pleas'd, yet what I pray
To other Letters cou'd I ſay ?
What if the Hebrew next ſhou'd claim
To turn quite backwards Durſy's Name ?
Shou'd the Greek quarrel too, by Styx, I
Cou'd ne'er bring in ☞, and ☞:

Omieron

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

77

Omicron and Omega from us
Wou'd each hope to be O in Thomas?
And all th' ambitious Vowels vie,
No lefs than Pythagorick Y,
To have a Place in Tom Durfy?

Then well belov'd, and trusty Letters,
Cons'nants, and Vowels too, their Betters !
We, willing to repair this Breach,
And (all that in us lies) pleafe each,
Et Cætera to our Aid will call ;
Et Cætera reprefents ye all :
Et Cætera therefore we decree,
For ever henceforth join'd fhall be
To the great Name of Tom Durfy.

An Epiftle from Mr. Alexander Pope
to Henry Cromwell, Esq;

DEAR Mr. Cromwell,

MAY it pleafe ye!

Sit ſtill a Moment; pray be easy—
Faith 'tis not five; no Play's begun;
No Game at Ombre loft or won.

H 3

Read

78 POEMS on

Read something of a diff'rent Nature,
Than *Evening Post*, or *Observator*;
And pardon me a little Fooling,
—Just while your Coffee stands a Cooling.

Since your Acquaintance with one *Brocas*,
Who needs will back the Muses Cock-horse,
I know you dread all those who write,
And both with Mouth and Hand recite;
Who flow, and leisurely rehearse,
As loath t' enrich you with their Verse;
Just as a Still, with Simples in it,
Betwixt each Drop stays half a Minute.
(That Simile is not my own,
But lawfully belongs to *Donne*)
(You see how well I can contrive a
*Interpolatio Furtiva*)

To *Brocas's* Lays no more you listen
Than to the wicked Works of *Whiston*;
In vain he strains to reach your Ear,
With what it wisely, will not hear :
You blefs the Powers who made that Organ
Deaf to the Voice of such a *Gorgon*,
(For so one sure may call that Head,
Which does not Look, but Read Men dead.)

I hope,

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

79

I hope, you think me none of those
Who flew their Parts as Pentlow does,
I but lug out to one or two
Such Friends, if such there are, as you,
Such, who read Heinsius and Maffon,
And as you please to pass their Doom,
(Who are to me both Smith and Johnson)
So seize them Flames, or take them Tonson.

But, Sir, from Brocas, Fouler, me,
In vain you think to 'scape Rhyme-free,
When was it known one Bard did follow
Whig Maxims, and abjure Apollo?
Sooner shall Major-General cease
To talk of War, and live in Peace;
Yourself for Goose reject Crow Quill,
And for plain Spanish quit Brasil;
Sooner shall Rowe lampoon the UNION,
Tydcombe take Oaths on the Communion;
The Granvilles' write their Name plain Green-
field,
Nay, Mr. Wycherley see Binfield.

I'm

80 POEMS on

I'm told, you think to take a Step some
Ten Miles from Town, t'a Place call'd *Epson's*,
To treat thofe Nymphs like yours of *Drury*,
With — I proteft, and I'll affure ye; —
But tho' from Flame to Flame you wander,
Beware; your Heart's no *Salamander* !
But burnt so long, may soon turn *Tinder*,
And so be fir'd by any *Cinder*—
(Wench, I'd have faid did Rhyme not hinder)
Shou'd it so prove, yet who'd admire ?
'Tis known, a Cook-maid roaſted *Prior*,
*Lardella* fir'd a famous Author,
And for a Butcher's well-fed Daughter
Great *D*—s roar'd, like Ox at Slaughter.

(Now, if you're weary of my Style,
Take out your Box of right *Brafil*,
Firſt lay this Paper under, then,
Snuff juſt three Times, and read again.)

I had to see you some Intent,
But for a curſt Impediment,

Which

SEVERAL OCCASIONS: 8I

Which spoils full many a good Design,
That is to say, the Want of Coin.
For which, I had reſolv'd almost,
To raſe Tiberius Gracchus Ghoſt;
To get, by once more murd'ring Caius,
As much as did Septimuleius ;
But who so dear will buy the Lead,
That lies within a Poet's Head,
As that which in the Hero's Pate
Deſerv'd of Gold an equal Weight ?

Sir, you're so stiff in your Opinion,
I wish you do not turn Socinian ;
Or prove Reviver of a Schism,
By modern Wits call'd Quixotism.
What move'd you, pray, without compelling,
Like Trojan true, to draw for Hellen :
Quarrel with Dryden for a Strumpet,
(For so he was, as e'er show'd Rump yet
Tho' I confers, he had much Grace,
Especially about the Face.)
Virgil, when call'd Pafiphae Virgo
(You say) he'd more good Breeding; Ergo—
Well argu'd, Faith! Your Point you urge
As home, as ever did Panurge :
And one may say of Dryden too,
(As once you faid of you know who)

He

82 POEMS on

He had fome Fancy, and cou'd write,
Was very learn'd, but not polite—
However from my Soul I judge
He ne'er (good Man) bore Hellen Grudge,
But lov'd her full as well it may be,
As e'er he did his own dear Lady.
You have no Cause to take Offence, Sir,
Z—ds, you're as four as Cato Cenfor!
Ten times more like him, I profels,
Than I'm like Aristophanes.

To end with News—the best I know, !
Is, I've been well a Week, or so.
The Season of green Peafe is fled,
And Artichoaks reign in their Stead.
Th' Allies to Rond Toulon prepare ;
G—d save the pretty Lady's there !
One of our Dogs is dead and gone,
And I, unhappy ! left alone.

If you have any Confolation
T' administer on this Occafion,
Send it, I pray, by the next Poft,
Before my Sorrow be quite loft.

The twelfth or thirteenth Day of July,
But which, I cannot tell you truly.

VENUS

SEVERAL OCCASIONS

83

VENUS at BATH.

By Mr. CROMWELL.

THE sportive Mirtrefs of the Paphian
Court

Leaving lov'd Cyprus did to Bath resort,
Think not Adonis to avoid her Love;

For Venus has as many Shapes as Jove :

At Church she takes a Fowler's Face to charm :
O' th' Walk falutes in Wentworth's graceful

Form :

Her Shape is Morris:—Abingdon her Air:
And then she kills with Curloc's Eyes and
Hair :

She talks a Worfely;—raffles a Fingall;

She's Balaam in the Bath;—and Grevill at the
Ball.

Phaon

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

85

Sapho's Answer to Phaon.

THO' you melodiously condole my Grief,
And in soft Numbers send a sweet Re-
lief;
The Nymphs you mention, were described in
vain,
They neither heard my Sighs, nor footh'd my
Pain:

Febrilla's direful Name! each Virgin fear'd!
And Tyrant-like, I'm lefs belov'd, than fear'd!
In penſive Solitude, I ſilent mourn!
And Friends around, to ſhapeleſs Echoes turn;
Not one ſuperior Object now appears,
But Abigails are all my Vifitors,
So Æſop's Lion ſat in-cav'd alone,
And not oneBeaſt approach'd the ſicklyThrone,
Yet all by Meſſage made theirKindneſs known.

POSTSCRIPT.

But have you Phaon, ferry'd o'er the Styx,
And did your Mufe really depart at fix?
Pray tell me? Would you thus your Numbers
ſpare,
Were Sapho whom you ſing, or wife, or fair?

I

Phaon's

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

87

EPIGRAM Papal.
On the Female Canticle.

AS the three Children late in Council fate,
And after many a long and warm Debate :
Well then! said *Ananias*, to his Brother,
Must this Song serve? Or, shall we look another?

In Troth, reply'd the gentle *Misael*,
My Lady has perform'd it pretty well;
Then let it stand; cry'd the bold *Azarias*,
But,—Gad! She'll get no Reputation by *Us*.

12.

Cade-

88

POEMS on

Cadenus and Vanessa,
A
LAW CASE.

By Dean SWIFT.

HE Shepherds and the Nymphs were
seen
Pleading before the Cyprian Queen:
The Counsel for the Fair began,
Accusing that false Creature Man:
The Brief with weighty Crimes was charg'd,
On which the Pleader much enlarg'd:
That, Cupid now has loft his Art,
Or blunts the Point of ev'ry Dart:
His Altar now no longer smokes;
His Mother's Aid no Youth invokes :
This tempts Free-Thinkers to refine,
And bring in doubt their Pow'r Divine.
Now, Love is dwindled to Intrigue,
And Marriage grown a Money-League.

Which

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

89

Which Crimes aforeaid (with her Leave)
Were (as he humbly did conceive)
Against our Sov'rain Lady's Peace;
Against the Statutes in that Cafe;
Against her Dignity and Crown;
Then pray'd an Answer, and fat down.

THE Nymphs with Scorn beheld their Foes;
When the Defendant's Counsel rose,
And, what no Lawyer ever lack't,
With Impudence own'd all the Fact:
But, what the gentlest Heart would vex,
Laid all the Fault on t'other Sex.
That, modern Love is no such Thing
As what those ancient Poets sing,
A Fire celestial, chafte, refin'd,
Conceiv'd and kindled in the Mind;
Which, having found an equal Flame,
Unites, and both become the fame:
In diff'rent Breaths, together burn,
Together both to Ashes turn.
But Women now feel no such Fire,
And only know the grofs Desire:
Their Passions move in lower Spheres,
Where-e'er Caprice or Folly steers:
A Dog, a Parrot, or an Ape,
Or a worse Brute in Human Shape
Engrofs the Fancies of the Fair,
The few soft Moments they can spare
From Vivils to receive and pay
From Scandal, Politicks, and Play,

13

From

90
# POEMS on
From Fans and Flounces, and Brocades,
From Equipage, and Park-Parades,
From all the thousand Female Toys,
From ev'ry Trifle that employs
The out, or inside of their Heads,
Between their Toilets and their Beds.

IN a dull Stream, when moving flow,
You hardly see the Current flow,
If a small Breeze obstructs the Course,
It whirls about for want of Force;
And in its narrow Circle gathers
Nothing but Chaff, and Straws, and Feathers:
The Current of a Female's Mind
Stops thus, and turns with ev'ry Wind;
Thus whirling round, together draws
Fools, Fops, and Rakes, for Chaff and Straws.
Hence we conclude, no Women's Hearts
Are won by Virtue, Wit, and Parts;
Nor are the Men of Sense to blame
For Breasts uncapable of Flame:
The Fault must on the Nymphs be plac'd,
Grown so corrupted in their Taste.

THE Pleader having spoke his beft,
Had Witneſs ready to atteſt,
Who fairly could on Oath depoſe,
When Queſtions on the Faſt aroſe,
That ev'ry Article was true;
Nor farther thofe Deponents knew.

Therefore

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

91

Therefore he humbly would infiſt,
The Bill might be with Coſts diſmift.

THE Caufe appear'd of ſo much Weight,
That Venus, from her Judgment-Seat,
Defir'd them not to talk ſo loud,
Eſſe ſhe muſt interpoſe a Cloud:
For if the Heav'nly Folks ſhould know
Theſe Pleadings in the Courts below,
That Mortals here diſdain to love,
She ne'er cou'd ſhow her Face above.
For, Gods their Betters, are too wife
To value that which Men deſpife.
And then (ſaid ſhe) my Son and I
Muſt ſtrole in Air 'twixt Earth and Sky;
Or eſſe ſhut out from Heav'n, and Earth,
Fly to the Sea, my Place of Birth,
There live with daggled Mermaids pent,
And keep on Fith perpetual Lent.

BUT ſince the Cafe appear'd ſo nice,
She thought it beſt to take Advice.
The Mufes, by their King's Permiſſion,
Though Foes to Love, attend the Seſſion;
And on the right Hand took their Places
In order, on the Left the Graces;
To whom ſhe might her Doubts propoſe
On all Emergencies that roſe.
The Mufes oft were ſeen to frown,
The Graces half aſham'd look'd down;

And

44 An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.

grown Epidemick, and I with long Habit has
not made it incurable, but since in healing any
Malady, the Discovery of the Cause from
whence it proceeds is one half of the Cure,
why should we despair of Success, when 'tis
evidently conspicuous, that the original Foun-
tain of those prevailing Calamities, which (like
an impetuous Deluge) so frequently overflow
a Conjugal State, is Men's marrying merely
for Money, without any Regard to the other
genuine and more noble Ends of Matrimony.
This is the true Source of all those Miseries,
which are in this Condition for the most part
as justly suffered as complained of; nor is it to
be admired, that such a fruitful Root as Ava-
rice should spring up, and branch out into an
innumerable Multitude and Variety of Evils.
However, since the Publick is injured by the
Ill-Fortune, and worse Conduct of private Per-
sons, and Men big enough for Wives have so
much of the Child in them still, that they will
not be instructed without Discipline, will not
takethe wholsomest Physick without Compulsi-
on, for a Remedy of these and many other natio-
nal as well as domestick Calamities and Dif-
orders, suppose it were enacted,

That Women should bring no Pozzi-
ons with them in Marriage, no more than
what is just sufficient to put them in
handsome Cloaths suitable to their Kanks,
and to defray the moderate Expences of
the Wedding, which among private Gen-
tlewomen may be limited to 100 l. and so
proportionably to the highest Quality not
above 1000 l.

And

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 45

And to prevent, or frustrate all secret Compacts, and fraudulent Contrivances, that might probably happen in such Cafes, it would be expedient to ordain,

That every Woman's Fortune, whether in Land or Money, should upon her Marriage descend to the next Heir Male, and be recoverable by him in due Course of Law.

This I fancy will at first Sight and upon a transient View, appear very surprizing and Paradoxical indeed; much like that Law, which to prevent Drunkenness, and the Abuse of Wine, order'd all Vineyards to be destroyed.

What! Give no Fortunes with Women? Who'll marry then? Who d'ye think will take a Wife without something to maintain her? Our Daughters stick long enough upon our Hands as 'tis already, and then surely they'll grow quite superanuated, and we shall be sti-fled with Petticoats in a little while, for Want of a timely Removal. In fine, it must needs be a great Hindrance to Matrimony, and the Multiplication of People.

But perhaps upon a deliberate Examination, it may appear quite contrary. For if we make but just Allowances for the many likely Matches, which are broken off merely upon the Account of Fortune and Settlement, without any Dislike of the Parties; if we consider the many Delays and Difficulties those Men meet with, who set up for Fortune-Hunters (as they are

46 An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.

are call'd) whereby many of them spend all
their Days in the Fox-chase, waste themselves
in a wild Pursuit of the Golden Dream, and
after many a tiresome Journey and mortifying
Disappointment, after many an anxious Hour
and sleeplefs Night, must wither away, and dye
at last old unpitied Batchelors. On the other
Hand, if we survey the female Part of the
World, we shall presently discern, that almost
all those who either with or againft their Wills
live to be old Maids, are such as having con-
fiderable Fortunes, and little else to recom-
mend them, but exalted above themselves with
a vain Conceit of their pregnant Bags, refuse
such suitable Offers as are made them at a
proper Season, and stand so long in their own
Light, being dazled with the Splendor of their
delusive Cash, that at length they lose their
Opportunity, which always flies a-pace, and
when once gone is never to be recalled again.
There lie a great many Difficulties in this Way
to Wealth, which are oftentimes insuperable.
The Father must be satisfy'd with a Fortune,
and the Son must be pleased in a Woman too.
The Father of the Woman must acquiesce in
the Son-in-law's Estate, and the Woman her-
felf must like her humble Servant, or else there
can be no Match. And where there are so
many Persons concerned, whose Interests may
seem to thwart one another, 'tis not much to
be admired, if more Treaties of this Kind fail
than succeed. These and many more Impedi-
ments would be clearly removed by the pro-
posed Institution, which therefore must eviden-
ly tend to the Promotion of Marriages, and
the Increase of Mankind. It must therefore
necessarily be approved of by the Politicians,
who

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 47

who tell us, that the Riches of any Country
don't confest so much in the Fertility of the
Soil, as the Number of the Inhabitants.

But becaufe some Men are apt to be alarmed
at any Thing, that has the least Appearance of
Novelty or Innovation, and can't endure the
Thoughts of being turned out of a common
(tho' a dirty and incommodious) Road. To
prevent or remove all Fears and Jealousies of
this Kind, it may be convenient to obſerve,
that this is no new-fangled whimsical Project
of a dreaming Enthusiast, or fickly Brain, but
has of old been honour'd with a Place among
the Maxims of the moſt understanding Men,
and introduced into the Laws of the moſt
happy, and moſt refined Governments.

Wife Solon among his renowned Laws, which
were alſo for their Excellency tranſcribed by
Embaſſadors ſent on Purpofe from Rome to
Athens, and ſtrictly obſerved by the Romans, this
divine Legislator, I ſay, forbad Dowries, or-
daining that a Bride ſhould bring no more with
her, than three Gowns, and ſome flight Houſe-
holdſtuff of ſmall Value; for he would not
that Marriage ſhould be mercenary or vendible,
but that the Man and Woman ſhould cohabit
for Issue, Love, and Friendship.

And *Lycurgus* the Lacedemonian Law-giver,
ſo much admir'd, when living, and ador'd
when dead, allowed no Woman to marry un-
leſs without a Fortune, that Men might not
be allured to Marriage by Intereſt, but from
the ſweet Conſtraint, and unſophiſticated Dic-
tates of Nature, from that myſterious Agree-
ment, and Sympathy of Minds, which alone
can make Men happy in a married Estate.
And this was one of thofe famous Ordinan-
ces,

48 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

ces, which received this Testimony from the
Oracle of Apollo at Delphos. That his Laws
were excellent, and that the People which ob-
served them should live in Happineſs and Re-
nown. Which the Spartans found experimen-
tally true for the Space of five hundred Years,
as long as they continued in the ſtrict Obfer-
vance of them.

These among the Antients; and to ſhow that
'tis as little ſingular as new, and mention One
for all among the Moderns, there is a Paſſage
à propos in Sir William Temple's Eſtay on po-
pular Diſcontents, written with ſuch Strength
of Reaſon, and inimitable Elegance of Style,
(as all his Writings are) and founded upon ſuch
ſolid Principles of true Philofophy, that I can-
not deny my ſelf the Satisfaſtion of tranſcri-
bing it.

“ I will not ſay the Races of our Nobility
“ and Gentry are much impaired within these
“ forty or fifty Years, though I have heard
“ others lament it, by their Obſervation of
“ many ſuccesſive Parliaments, wherein they
“ have ſerved; but no Man I ſuppoſe will
“ doubt they are capable of being improved,
“ or think that Care might not as well be ta-
“ ken for Men by publick Inſtitutions, as it is
“ for the Races of other Creatures by private
“ Endeavours. The Weakneſs of Children
“ both in their Bodies and Minds, proceeds
“ not only from ſuch Conſtitutions or Qua-
“ lities in the Parents, but alſo from the ill
“ Conſequences upon Generation by Marriages
“ contracted without Aſſection, Choice, or In-
“ clination; (which is allowed by Naturaliſts
“ upon Reaſon, as well as Experience.) These
“ Con-

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 49

Contracts would never be made but by Men's
Avarice and Greedineſs of Portions with
the Women they marry, which is grown
among us to that Degree, as to ſurmount
and extinguſh all other Regards and Desires:
So that our Marriages are made juſt like other
common Bargains and Sales, by the meer
Consideration of Intererſt or Gain, without
any of Love or Eſteem, of Birth, or of
Beauty itself, which ought to be the true
Ingredients of all happy Compoſitions of this
Kind, and of all generous Productions. Yet
this Cuſtom is of no antient Date in Eng-
land, and, I think, I remember within leſs
that fifty Years, the firſt noble Families that
marry'd into the City for downright Money,
and thereby introduced by Degrees this pub-
lick Grievance, which has ſince ruined ſo
many Eſtates, by the Necessity of giving great
Portions to Daughters; impaired many Fa-
milies by the weak or mean Productions of
Marriages made without any of that Warmth
and Spirit, that is given them by Force of
Inclination and perſonai Choice; and extin-
guſh'd many great ones, by the Aversion of
the Perſons who ſhould have continued them.
I know no Remedy for this Evil under our
Sun, but a Law, providing, that no Woman
of what Quality ſoever, ſhall have the Va-
lue of above Two Thouſand Pounds for her
Portion in Marriage, unleſs ſhe be an Hei-
refs, and that no ſuch above the Value of
two hundred Pounds a Year, ſhall marry to
any but younger Brothers."

" By this, Men's general Hopes of making their Fortunes by Wives, would be turned to other Courſes and Endeavours more uſeful VOL. II.

50 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

“ to the Publick ; young Women would not
“ be expos'd by the want of Fortunes, and
“ despair of marrying without them: Noble
“ Families would not be exhausted by Com-
“ petition with thofe of meaner Allay, in Point
“ of Portions: Marriages would be made up-
“ on more natural Motives, and more generous
“ Considerations, than meer dirty Intereft, and
“ Increafe of Riches without Meaſure or End,
“ Shape and Beauty, Birth and Education,
“ Wit and Understanding, gentle Nature, and
“ agreeable Humour, Honour and Virtue would
“ come in for their Share in ſuch Contracts as
“ muſt always have ſo great an Influence up-
“ on all Men’s Lives, and their Poſterity too.
“ Besides, ſome little Damps would be given
“ to that peſtilent Humour and general Miftake
“ of placing all Felicity in the endleſs De-
“ grees of Riches, which, beyond a certain
“ Proportion, ſuited to each Rank, neither
“ conduce to Health nor Pleaſure, to Eafe nor
“ Convenience. The Love of Money is the
“ Root of all Evil; which is a Truth that
“ both Morals and Politicks, Philosophy and
“ Divinity, Reaſon and Experience all agree in,
“ and which makes the common Difquiets of
“ private Life, and the Difturbances of publick
“ Governments.

—*Quid non mortalia pectora cogis*
*Auri sacra fames?*

The united Authority of this great Triumviri
might perhaps be ſufficient to convince every
rational Reader; but to purſue this Matter a
little farther, and fet it in a clear Light, let us
take a more exaſt View of the preſent Cuf-
tom

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 51

from of choosing Wives by their Weight, and
the Consequences of it, and then confider a
little what would be the necessary Effects of
a contrary Practice, that by fetting the one
against the other, we may the better discern their
several Differences and Defects, make a true
Comparison between them, and give the just
Preference where 'tis best deferved. Now the
first Question in the Choice of a Woman is,
What has she? Or, What Fortune will her
Friends give her ? If that be well answered,
there's hardly ever another made; but present-
ly the Lady is admired and adored with all
the Extravagance of Passion. She is as beauti-
ful as Venus, tho' her Glans would tell her the
contrary, if she did not look with her own
Eyes. She is ingenious, good-humour'd, virtu-
ous, well-bred, and in short, she wants no natu-
ral Charms, nor acquired Accomplishments,
till she is flatter'd into Marriage with a Man
who cares for nothing but her Wealth; and
in less Time than the Courtship lasted, she has
good Luck, if she be not flighted, despised, and
abused. Nay, so little is the Woman valued,
let her Fortune be never so great, that among
Men, who have not the worst Reputation for
Immorality in the World, if it be ask'd, How
they can marry a Woman for her Money,
whom they can't love ? 'Tis presently answ-
red, If she has an Estate to maintain me as a
Gentleman, I care for no more, I can have
Women enough that I like.

But there is another Method less generous,
yet more frequent than the former. There are
a Sort of People in the World, commonly of
the Feminine Gender, call'd Match-makers,
tho' they don't care to own the Name. These

F 2

make

52 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

make it their Businesse to pry into the dome-
stick Concerns of others, that no Way belong
to them, and having got Intelligence of young
Women's Fortunes, they endeavour if possible
to get some Acquaintance with their Persons
also; and by this Means, having Gudgeons
enough always ready to bite at the Silver Hook,
they contrive, and too often consummate unhap-
py Matches, to the utter Ruin of both Parties.
The Man expects a Fortune, but like Ixion
grasps a Cloud, and rages at his Disappointment.
The Woman is equally incensed at the like
Delusion in her Hopes of a great Estate; and
if they don't part by mutual Consent, they live
a very uncomfortable Life together. Sometimes
an innocent Virgin, unacquainted with the
wicked Ways of the World, is fold to a pro-
fligate Rake; and sometimes the Man is made
a Fool of, and enflaved to a Wife, who in-
stead of Money brings all Sorts of evil Qua-
lities. But suppose there be no great Deceit on
either Side, Mrs. Letter-Carrier will be sure
to make a good Bargain for her self, and be
extravagantly paid on both Hands; by the Man
for procuring him so rich a Wife, and by the
Woman for helping her to so good a Husband.
That this scandalous Practice is oftner ufed
than disclosed, our Courts of Judicature will
not suffer us to doubt, since sometimes upon
Discovery of the Cheat and ambidextrous Com-
pact, Mrs. Match-maker is denied her Gratu-
ty, (as she calls it) and put to her Relief at
Law.

But the Consequences of marrying merely
for a Fortune, are much worse than the Means
generally taken to get one. From this Origi-
nal proceed the many fatal Accidents, which have
attended

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 53

attended the stealing of Heireffes. Upon this
Account we have in our own Age beheld a
very Tragical Scene, which occasioned the ma-
king a cruel Act, (as the Fortune-Catchers
term it) That this Kind of Theft should also
be Felony, and which might have been whol-
ly superfeded by such a mild and wholsome
Law as this would be. Under this Head may
be ranked all those Cheats and Impostures,
which are very often put upon the World by
Women's Setting up for great Fortunes, whose
Reputations perhaps among their Acquaintance
are gone as well as their Money; and the
fame Deceit is as commonly returned upon
them by the Men, who pretend to have great
Estates, when 'tis well if they are not worfe
than nothing.

However, by this Means they frequently de-
coy one another into Marriage, to the utter
Ruin of many a private Family, and the great
Detriment of the publick. And it may not be
wholly fuperfluous to mention the fraudulent
Compacts, and clandestine Agreements, which
are oftentimes enter'd into upon making of
Joyptures and Marriage-Settlements. These,
and on the other Hand, all the Shifts and Con-
trivances to detain or diminish Daughter's Por-
tions would be entirely prevented, and the an-
cient and well-grounded Law of Thirds would
recover its primitive Use and Reputation again.
But farther yet, when the Wives Money made
the Match, the Coldneſs and Indifference which
the Husband muſt neceſſarily ſhow towards her
(for Paffion will not long be diffembled) quick-
ly heightens into Discord and Diffenſion. The
House is torn into Pieces by intelline Divi-
ons, and destroyed by those who ſhould ſupport

F 3

it.

54 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

it. The Man is uneasy at Home, and therefore spends his Time and his Money abroad, in the Pursuit of expensive Pleasures, and Violation of the nuptial Bed: The Woman pleads President, and takes the fame Licence, which in Time comes to this Conclusion, that they have no Home left to go to. From this Cause we may without Injustice deduce the many infamous Separations and Divorces, which are so frequent among us. Infamous I call them, not because they are wrongfully obtain'd, but because 'tis a horrid Shame there should be such Occasions for them in a Christian Country, and are too convincing a Proof of the Growth of Irreligion, and the general Corruption of Morals.

There is another Inconvenience attends this pernicious Practice of marrying for Money; which is, the preponderous Conjunction of the Head and the Tail of the World together, The Duke and the Draper's Daughter, the Duchefs and the Debauchee, the calt-off Countefs and the broken Esquire, which, if it had no other ill Effects, is the ready Way to confound all the useful Distinctions, which Reason began, and Custom has confirm'd amongst Man- kind, and entirely to abolish Nobility, or at least deprive it of all its antient hereditary Honour and Dignity. But this is not all, where the Parties are so unequal, the Contempt from one, and ReSENTment from the other, are the fruitful Parents of more Mischief and Trouble than any Body can imagine, but such as have unhappily born their Share of them; and the disagreeable Affinity, which is hereby contracted, is thought dishonourable on one Side, and is often found Burthensome and Oppressive on the other.

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 55

other. For which, and other good Reasons,
no lefs than two of the seven Sages made
it their particular Advice to Match Equal.

Nor does the Evil terminate here, but is of-
ten derived to late Polterity, for when that
kindly Warmth and sincere Affection is want-
ing, which is a necessary Ingredient in the Com-
position of matrimonial Blifs; when the Duties
of the Bed are perform'd with Indifference,
or perhaps with Reluctance from one Party,
'tis not to be wondered if the Imperfections
of the Cauſe are transmitted to the Effect; for
as Men low they will reap, and 'tis true in a
Natural, as well as Logical Senſe, that the
Conclusion always follows the weaker of the
Premifes. But let Naturalifts purſue this Argu-
ment to the utmost, and I doubt not but the
Result of their Enquiries will be this, That
most of our Difeaſes are owing to the Diftem-
pers or Difaffections of our Parents. If they
only were affiſted for their own Faults, the
Matter would not deferve to be so much la-
mented, but when they entail Misery upon their
Off-fpring to many Generations; when inno-
cent, but unhappy Infants ſhall suffer not only
in their Eſtates, but their Bodies too, for the
Vices and Follies of their Progenitors. Me-
thinks, meer Pity and Good-nature ſhould make
us forward to seek ſome effectual Redrefs, if
any ſuch might be found. And ſure it might
be found, if Men were once refrained from
that ſordid, mercenary, ungenerous Practice of
marrying any thing for Money, and turning a
divine Ordinance into the vileſt kind of Mer-
chandise.

But now let us ſurvey the bright Side of the
Object, and look upon Matrimony divested of
its

56 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

its dark Veil, free from all unnatural Blemishes,
and arrayed in its primitive Purity, and genuine
Luſtre. And under this Character it will ad-
mit of no other Motive or Inducement, but
Generous Love; Love, the moſt noble, moſt
delightful, and moſt divine Paſſion of the Mind;
the very Soul of Life, and Cement, that not
only unites, but animates the happy Pair. Where
that reigns, ineffable Pleaſures ſurround them
in the Day, and reſt upon them at Night. They
wake to new Joys in the Morning, too great
to be impaired by the common Accidents and
Misfortunes of Life, and like the glorious Light
of the Sun, not to be darkened with every
flying Cloud. They who become one Mind,
as well as one Fleſh, upon this proper and
rational Incitement, will ſeldom or never fail
of attaining the true and excellent End of Ma-
trimony in a vigorous and healthy Off-spring,
which may be able to go through all the La-
bours of Life with Courage and Credit, which
in their tender Years will be the greatest De-
light to their Parents, and when grown up, the
moſt ſolid Comfort and Support of their Age.
While those ſordid Wretches, who have no
Paſſion for any Thing but Money, and think
no Face beautiful but their adored Idol im-
pressed upon Coin, are defervedly puniſhed
with Sterility, or what's worſe, a puny ſickly
Race, fit for nothing here but to maintain
Quacks and Apothecaries, the Grief and Bur-
den of their Progenitors when living, and their
Diſparagement when dead. For the many
unhappily born, the crazy and the crooked are
generally the Produets of diſtorted Inclinations,
and are more indebted for their Generation to
frigid Interest than genial Affection. But if the
generous

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 57

generous Principle of Love and Honour were
universally established among Men, they would
sure be as careful in their own Breed, as in
that of their Cattle, and other Creatures, and
in the Choice of a Female Confort would prin-
cipally take Care of her being well qualified
in all respects for the great End of their Cre-
ation. And because under this Consideration
mental Endowments would among all rational
Persons be accounted very momentous and eſti-
mable, therefore every Man would be diſpoſed
to like and elect such as (according to his No-
tions and Opinion of Things) he thought moſt
excellent and agreeable. The Honourable
would eſteem good Understanding and Breed-
ing, untainted Virtue, and a Descent from no-
ble Ancestors. The Learned would be apt to
admire Wit, Ingenuity, Knowledge and Diſcre-
tion. And the Gentleman would value agree-
able Humour, good Education, and genteel Be-
haviour. Nor would the good Houſewife be
deprived of her juſt Worth. And Beauty, the
particular Gift of Heaven, and unconteſted
Prerogative of our Women, would not want
its due Admiration. In ſhort, Birth and Beau-
ty, Wit and Understanding, Good-humour and
Breeding, Knowledge and Virtue would be
reckoned the chief Excellencies of the Fair
Sex, and for which they ought in Reaſon,
and would then in Faſt be moſt eſteemed.
Men would then chuse ſuch as were moſt like
themselves in Conſtitution of Body, and Tem-
per of Mind, ſuch as had the fame Desires and
Averſions, which are the ſtrongest Cement, and
moſt inviolable Bond of Love and Friendſhip.
At least there would never be that vaſt Dispa-
rity

58 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE:*

rity of Age, which is too often bound together
in Hymen's cruel Chains.

And here I cannot but observe, how common, yet how unspeakably miserable is the Condition of those young Women, who by covetous and narrow-spirited Parents are compelled to marry some wretched old Hunks, who has nothing to make him tolerable but his Dirt and his Drofs. This indeed is a worse than Mezentian Cruelty, to conjoin blooming Youth and withered Age, verdant Spring, and hoary Winter, vigorous Health and Life, with Impotence, Infirmity, and Death. What greater Torment than for a charming Virgin to be condemned to such loathed Embraces, to be banished from all the suitable Enjoyments of Life, to be made a Nurse instead of a Bride, and to have no Hopes left, but in the last Remedy of all Difeases. To be forced into such a State, wherein she not only loses herself, but the Publick loses a Person well qualified for Propagation, for the Care of Children, and Domeftick Concerns; and for all the Offices of a good Woman, and a virtuous Wife. Yet this is the deplorable Fate of too many, which 'tis to be hoped might in great Measure be prevented, if Money were once deprived of its unjuft, but extenfive Power and Magick Force in making of Matches, and the marrying purely for Riches among the Men, could be no longer used as a President by the Women, who having been taught and accustomed not to prize themselves for their own Wealth, 'tis to be prefumed would not be so apt to value Men on the fame inconfiderable Account. Nor would there be any Room left for the vain Expectation of burying

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 59

ing the old Husband, and marrying again to
great Advantage with a mighty Joynture, since
Widows also should bring no Fortune to a
second Husband, but all their Estate should
upon their Marriage descend to the next Ta-
ker in Law.

But there are several other collateral Advan-
tages of such an Institution, too many to be
foreseen or enumerated, some of which that
are of more publick Influence perhaps it may
not be impertinent to mention. It is to be
hoped, that Fathers would not so frequently
live beyond their Means, and enslave their
Estates, leaving their Heirs to fetch Fortunes
to redeem them. However Sons could not
have this Excuse for Extravagance, and making
deep Wounds in their Patrimony. That they
might easily heal all again with a Wive's sanative Portion. An old Miser, who had only
Daughters of his own Blood to inherit his ill-gotten Wealth would not have that Temptation
or plausible Pretence to make himself miferable all his Life, that he might render his Children the more unfortunate by their excessive Portions after his Death. Nor could our Women marry into foreign Countries, and carry away vast Sums with them, to the great Loſs and Injury of the Nation. But these are little Things in Comparison of the immense Advantages which might be reaped from such an Institution; an Institution of such universal Influence upon the whole Course of human Life, as must necessarily introduce a new, and more beautiful Face of Affairs into the World, and would go perhaps the farthest of any one Thing toward reducing Mankind to its primitive Poverty, Simplicity, and Innocence. 'Tis to be hoped

## 60 An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.

hoped we should by this Means re-enjoy the
Blessings of the Golden Age, and as far as possi-
ble recover loft Paradise again, by making Ma-
trimony quite otherwife from what it is gene-
rally at preſent, but what it was in its firſt
Appointment deſigned to be, The happieſt State
on Earth. Since all theſe Advantages Natural,
Moral, and Political, would undoubtedly be
the Conſequence of marrying for generous Love,
and the Cure of all the Evils, which attend
the preſent Practice; how can this Inquiſitive,
this Virtuous, this Reſormieſ Age any longer
endure the Tyranny of a Cuſtom ſo contrary
to Nature, to Reaſon, and to Religion ? How
can we, who are jealous of our Liberty in
other Things, be ſo tamely wedded to Servi-
tude in this, where 'tis ſo very much for our
Happineſs to be free ?

But here I expeſt a whole Army of Objeſti-
ons ready to rife up againſt me, more nume-
rous than formidable, and which, tho' never
ſo weak, may be apt to boaſt of their Power if
not anſwered and ſubdued.

It may perhaps be alledged, that Men may
now if they pleaſe purſue their own Inclinati-
ons, and marry for downright Love, without
any Regard to Money; and therefore there is
no Need of any Alteration.

'Tis true indeed they may do do, but then
according to the common Course of Things,
what muſt be the Conſequence of it. They
muſt in all Probability plunge themſelves into
unavoidable and unpitied Poverty, than which
nothing is more grievous to a generous Mind.
For it be a younger Brother who marries
thus, 'tis commonly one Part of his Buſineſs
and Hopes to make his Fortune by a Wife;
since

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 61

since all that can be spared from the Heir, or
laid up out of the Father's Estate, is little enough
to put off the Daughters, and he can expect no-
thing but his Education, and some small Matter
to let up with. This then in him must be a
fatal Stumbling at the Threshold, and throw-
ing away all his Hopes at the first Caft, which
we must not suppose these Men of Fortune
will do, especially since they are apt to arrogate
to themselves all the Wit of the Family, tho'
their Superiors in Birth have the Estate. But
the Cafe is much worse with an elder Brother,
if he makes such a false Step, and commits
such an irretrievable Error. The Estate, which
should have been his, if he had brought a Fortune
to be divided among his Sisters, must be sold
to raise their Portions, or what's worse, loaded
with the heavy Burden of a corroding Mort-
gage, which he, unhappy Man, can never ex-
pect to discharge; for having been bred above
theford Arts of Gain, he is a very unequal
Match for the Men of Buſineſs, the Harpies
of the World, and therefore can have but flen-
der Hopes of recovering himſelf among them.
His neceſsary Expences daily increase, and his
Means of supplying them continually diminifh,
till at length looking round on all Sides, and
finding no Comfort, he either links under his
inſupportable Misery, or takes some desperate
unwarrantable Courſe to deliver himſelf out
of it. How unfortunate then is this Man's
Condition, who muſt either marry for Money,
perhaps with little or no Inclination, or else
muſt endure all the Extremities of Want. All
therefore that I plead for, is, that we may be
delivered from this Slavery, that we may have
no Force put upon us, but being left to our
native Liberty, may have no Difcouragement ;

VOL. II.

G

however

62 An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.

nowever, if we have no Advantage by following
our Inclinations in the Choice of our moſt inti-
mate Companions for Life.

If any Man out of a preſumptuous Advance-
ment of Prerogative ſhould go ſo far as to de-
ny Women Senſe (as ſome have done Souls)
and ſay they are not fit to chooſe for them-
ſelves, and therefore ought not to be left ſo
much to their own Liberty, as they would
be, if they had no Expeſtation of Portions
from their Governours. I cannot think ſuch
a downright Aſſertion, without any Manner of
Reaſon for it (which is only the Argument of
a bad Cauſe, and a weak Advocate) will find
any Abettors; nor does it follow, that how-
ever qualified Women may be to make their own
Eſtions, they would be leſs apt to conſult
their understanding Friends about the Diſpoſal
of themſelves; but in all Likelihood rather
more. For 'tis rightly obſerved, that where
People are left to their own Government, after
they come to Years of Diſcretion, they are
generally more cautious, especially in Matters
of Moment, than when they are ruled and di-
rected by thofe, who may be ſuppoſed to have
more Reaſon, but oftentimes have leſs; and it
muſt be allowed that every Body is beſt Judge
for themſelves in Cafes of Good or Evil, that
ſo nearly concerns them.

If on the other Hand, out of a miſtaken
Defence of the Fair Sex, any one ſhould ſay,
the Women's Condition would be a great deal
worse than it is now, if ſuch an Act took
Place; I cannot ſee wherein. For ſo long as
they continued ſingle, they would live in all
Reſpect as well as they do now; and when
they marry, their Husbands, who muſt in this

Cafe

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 63

Cafe be necessarily supposed to have a real Kindness for them, would undoubtedly maintain them in such a Manner as was most for their Reputation, and most suitable to their Estate and Quality. All the Injury therefore that Women would suffer by it is this, that 'twould not then be in their Power to throw away themselves, and their Money too, upon Men who cared only for the latter, and having spent that, grow uneasy and negligent, if not abusive, towards the unfortunate Wife who brought it.

If the Men of Morals should be afraid that this would make Women out of a coveous and libidinous Desire resolve to keep their Estates, tho' at the Loys of their Honour; they may please to confider, that almost all those, who after a mercenary odious Manner prostitute their Bodies, to the infinite Hazard of their Souls, are such as having been bred gently, but wanting Portions to invite Men of suitable Birth and Education to marry them, are seduced to sell themselves for a scandalous Maintenance; or such as having some Advantages of Nature, but none of Fortune, are tempted to supply their Indigence at the Expense of their Chastity. These, to mention no more, might have fairer Hopes and a better Prospect in an honest Way; and therefore would not be so liable to be overcome by any unlawful Sollicitation. Nor would Reputation, the brightest Ornament of the Fair Sex be so lightly regarded, which now, tho' violated, they are too apt to think may be fodder'd up again with a little Money; and she who has enough of that imagines she can want nothing else. But then there would be no redeeming

G 2

the

64 *An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.*

the lost Jewel, no Equivalent in the Place of
it, which would certainly awaken their Caution
and Diligence to preferve it always clear and
unblemisned.

But methinks I hear younger Brothers in a
general Complaint, that this would be a great
Hardship on them, who are Men of Fortune,
and muſt endeavour to get Wealth and a
Wife together, and if deprived of that Means of
advancing themſelves may be forced to take
more unwarrantable Courſes. This may seem
to carry ſome Weight with a partial Obferver
of Things; but if the Moiety of thoſe prodig-
ous Sums, which are given with Sifters in
Marriage, were divided amongſt younger Bro-
thers for their Settlement in the World, I think
their Condition would be much more eligible
than it is now; for then they would have a
ſufficient Fortune of their own, without being
forced to marry againſt their Inclinations to ob-
tain one; and ſure 'tis more desirable to poſ-
ſeſs an Estate, and the Liberty of pleafing one's
ſelf in a Wife, than to run the Hazard and
take the Pains of getting both together.

If it ſhould be whispered, that many Men
whose Eſtates are incumbered would lobe a very
compendious Way of releaſing them, and that
many Families of Worth and Fame would be
quite extinguilſhed for Want of a Wife's Fort-
tune to ſupport them. It may be aloud re-
plied, Let every one ſuffer according to his
own Demerit; and if Men will ſpend their
Eſtates in Vice and Extravagance, 'tis fit they
should endure the juſt Conſequences of their
Folly, and highly unreasonable, that a Woman's
Fortune ſhould be paid away as the Wages of
another's Sin, and only afford new Fuel for a
ſrefh

An ESSAY on MARRIAGE. 65

fresh Course of Luxury, and Intemperance. If
it should be farther urg'd, that Fathers often
leave their Sons clogged with Debts, which
they should never have contracted themselves,
and that this is the easiest Way of discharging
them. It must be answered, their Cafe will
admit of no Exception, if it does of any Pity;
for 'tis consonant with the justice both of di-
vine and human Laws, that Children should
bear their Father's Iniquities.

But I waste Time in removing Straws. And
who at length can be against this Propofal ?
Not the Ladies; since it secures them of real
Affection in their Admirers, delivers them from
all false Pretences, and puts it in their Power to
make themselves happy with the Man, that
loves them, and they also love. Not the Gent-
lemen; since it would restore them to the Li-
berty of making their own Choice without
Constraint, and bring their Felicity almost to
their own Dispoſal. Not the Nobles; since
it would augment and establish their Honour.
Not the Plebeians; since it would promote
their domestiſh Tranquillity and Peace. Not
the Rich, since it would not rob them of their
Wealth. Not the Poor; since they would not
be injured by it. Not the Married; since their
Lot is already cast, and they ought to give
others fair Play. Not the Unmarried; since
they would above all others receive the great-
eſt Benefit by it. In a Word, since all Ranks
and Degrees of Men, from the highest to the
lowest, must in Reason approve such an Act
as is herein proposed, what should hinder the
Collective Wisdom of the Nation from taking
it into their serious Consideration? Why should
a Matter so manifestly conducive to the pub-
lick

G 3

66 An ESSAY on MARRIAGE.

lick Welfare, and Happineſs of these King-
doms be any longer neglected by those who
watch over them for their Good, and deferved-
ly reckon themselves, not only their Reprefen-
tatives, but their Guardians, Patrons, and great-
eſt Benefactors. But if after all that has or
can be ſaid to evince the Reaſonablenefs of
ſuch a Statute, it ſhould be thought a Subjeſt
too mean and trivial for the Counſels of ſuch
an August Assembly, or if after a thorough De-
bate, and due Examination, the inveterate Cui-
tom of giving Fortunes with Women in Mar-
riage, ſhould be confirmed, and permitted ſtill
to prevail against all Oppofition; there can be
no other Reaſon affigned, I think, for ſuch a
Procedure, but that we are wiser than the
moſt learned and flourishing People, which have
in any Age of the World been recorded in
Hiftory, the Greeks, and Romans, or eſſe (what
I hope will never be juſtly objected to an En-
glifh Parliament) that we are not yet arrived
to so high a Pitch of Prudence or Probity.

SWIF-

70 The BROKEN MUG.

In all Affairs of Human Life,
So intermix'd, with Joy and Strife.
My MUG still sweeten'd all my Care,
My Sorrows still were drowned there.
This, with an honest jolly Friend,
To anxious Thoughts could put an End.
Which still clos'd up the Toils of Day,
And made the Minutes glide away.
But now I have no MUG to drink,
Nor scarce the Pow'r to write or think.

Assist ye Nymphs, with Wit and Skill,
A Native of Parnassus Hill,
Who now implores the sacred Nine
To raise his Thoughts in ev'ry Line!
Your Property is not to stint,
Or give a MUG with nothing in't.
Since Bards are subject to be dry,
We beg before our Skill we try,
A Draught of the Castalian Spring,
To clear our Pipes before we sing.

THIS MUG which I lament in Tears
Hath serv'd me well for many Years.
That useful Piece of Furniture
Is broke and shatter'd past all Cure.
Nor can it e'er be hoop'd with Tin
As other broken Mugs have been;
Whose Ruptures cur'd by Tinker's Truſs,
Are still of special Use to us.

BUT

The BROKEN MUG.

71

But now alas! 'tis all in vain
To join thy Particles again.
What Coft would I, on Thee beſtow
To have Thee now in Statu quo ?
Thou MUG, the Subject of my Song,
Should'ſt not lie ſtill, nor empty long.
In Silver Hoops thou ſhould'ſt appear,
Well tipp'd, and frothing full of Beer;
Whofe fragrant Bubbles gently fall,
Till by Degrees contracted ſmall,
They on thy Centre, form a Roſe
So grateful to our Eyes and Noſe;
Whofe mantling Juice does far out-shine
The Sparkling of the choicest Wine.

It was a Family-old-MUG,
At which our Friends did often tugg;
'Twas bought when I was but a Youth,
And Granny ſays upon her Truth,
A finer MUG was never bought,
Although it coſt her but a Groat,
The Potter ſurely play'd his Part,
For 'twas a Maſter-Piece of Art.
He form'd it of well temper'd Stuff,
To make it durable and tough.
The Concave and the Convex white,
Appear'd moſt pleasing to the Sight.
'Twould puzzle EUCLID or DESCART
To take Dimenſions of each Part.

The

72

The BROLEN MUG.

The Base whereon it stood was round,
The rest with various Shapes abound;
Not truly Spherical, nor Conick,
Cylindrical, nor Parabolick.
All from the Bottom to the Ear,
Was like the *Fraestrum* of a Sphere.
The rest much like that of a Cone,
To which was fix'd one Ear alone.
Tho' one should think another Lug,
Might well become so large a Mug.

But be it known unto you, Sirs,
Some modern wife Geometers
Thought it a surer Way, and quicker,
To fill the Mug with humming Liquor.
Then handing it from North to South,
They took the Gauge by Word of Mouth.
For when it went full nine times round,
By long Experience they found,
It held two Quarts by Estimation,
And some few Tenths by Calculation.
Then to compleat what they begun,
They inch'd it like a Brewer's-Tun;
And in a Minute wou'd defcry,
Their several Inches wet or dry.
They estimated near enough
A Conick or Cylindrick Hoof.
When e'er the Mug was on a Stoop,
They told the Ullage to a Sup.

IT

The BROKEN MUG.

73

IT SERV'D A DOUBLE PRENTICE-SHIP,
AND NEVER GOT A CRACK OR SLIP,
UNTIL BY CHANCE THE OTHER DAY,
(TO SHEW THE FRAILTY OF OUR CLAY)
IT GOT A MOFT UNLUCKY FALL,
WHICH MAY BE WARNING TO US ALL.
FOR LET US LIVE TO NESTOR'S AGE,
WE MUST AT LAFT GO OFF THE STAGE.
'TWAS MADE IN ANNA'S GLORIOUS REIGN,
AND ALWAYS KEPT BOTH SWEET AND CLEAN,
HER HEALTH WAS OFTEN DRANK THEREOUT,
IN *March* OR IN *October* STOUT.
IT WENT ABOUT JUST WITH THE SUN,
AND IN A CIRCLE STILL DID RUN;
'TWOULD DRAIN A CELLAR E'ER SO DEEP,
AND FROM AN INUNDATION KEEP,
THAT QUARTER OF THE TOWN, YOU KNOW,
WHERE HIGH Spring-TIDES DO OVERFLOW;
FOR IN A DAY IT WOULD EXHALE
THE L-d knows how much Beer or Ale.
NOR COULD IT LOSE IT'S VIRTUE quite
TILL IT WAS nine or ten at Night.
IT WAS A PLANET WITHOUT DOUBT,
FOR DAY AND NIGHT IT WENT ABOUT.
AND HAD ITS PERIODIC TIMES
AS REGULAR AS *Chrift*—CHURCH-CHIMES.
THEN BY NOCTURNAL OBSERVATION,
WE FOUND ITS VIRTUE AND PULSATION;
(WHEN LIKE THE SEA IT EBB'D AND FLOW'D)
ITS VARIOUS OPERATIONS SHOW'D.

VOL. II.

H

And

74 The BROKEN MUG.

And diff'rent Influence on Men,
About the Hours of eight and ten.

'TWAS on a Day, some Friends and I
Were seated on *Parnassus* high.
My Friends began to hem and cough,
With Voices hoarse and very rough,
By long debating *Pro* and *Con*
Whether the Earth mov'd, or the Sun,
Who writ the best Philosophy
*COPERNICUS* or *PTOLOMY*.
Whether they were not both out-done,
By *NEWTON'S Principles* alone.
Tho' now the Mode, 'tis not my Way,
To entertain my Friends with *Tea*.
We Bards don't love our Drink too new,
Nor can we spare the Time to brew.
We use no *Tea* nor *Coffee* here,
They're both infipid, and too dear,
They never can clear up the Brain,
Or put us in a merry Vein.
To some they give ill-natur'd Fits,
While base *Detractors* palls for *Wits*.
From whose vile Censure who is free,
All suffer by *their rash* Decree.
I gueſd my *Brother Bards* were dry,
Then begg'd a *Nymph* who lives hard by,
To step to *Helicon* in Hafe,
And bring the MUG full of the beſt.
In hafe as he tripp'd down the Stairs
With graceful Air, but unawares,

Precipi-

The BROKEN MUG.

75

Precipitating on her Hoop,
As she ran downwards made her stoop,
Down fell the Nymph, the MUG and all,
The Lofs was great, and great the Fall.
The Nymph return'd with nimble Foot,
But got her Finger forely cut.
The Tydings told with panting Breath,
How she eſcap'd a ſudden Death.
The ſhatter'd Limbs—Oh dire Mifhap!
She brought up gather'd in her Lap,
With Fractures of the MUG ſo ſmall,
No Art cou'd e'er cement them all.

THOU beſt of MUGs Adieu, Adieu.
Since I am doom'd to follow you,
I am but Clay, and ſo wert Thou
When I go off, or where, or how,
I cannot tell; but ſtill muſt ſtrive
To keep this Microcosm alive.
To wet my Clay as it grows dry
Left it ſhould into Atoms fly.

H2

ARE-

76 A REBUS.

A REBUS on Dean Swift.
By VANESSA. *

CUT the Name of the Man † who his
*Mistress* deny'd,

And be the first Syllable only apply'd,

To join with the *Prophet* § who *David* did
chide.

Then say what a Horse is, that runs very fast, ‡
And that which deserves to be first put the last.

Spell all then, and put them together to find
The Name, and the Virtues, of him I design'd.

Like the Patriarch in Ægypt He's vers'd in the.

State,

Like the Prophet in Jewry He's free with the Great

Like a Racer he flies to succour with Speed,
When his Friends want his Aid or Desert is in

need.

*Mrs. Van Homrigh. † Jo. § Nathan. ‡ Swift.
The

The ANSWER. 77

The DEAN'S Answer.

THE Nymph who wrote This in an Amorous Fit,
I cannot but envy the Pride of her Wit;
Which she in a Frolick has ventur'd to show,
On so mean a Design, on a Subject so low.
For mean's her Design, on a Subject so mean,
The first but a Rebus, the last but a Dean.
A Dean's but a Parson, and what is a Rebus,
A Thing never known to the Muses or Phœbus.
The Corruption of Verse, for when all is done,
It is but a Paraphrase made on a Pun.
But a Genius like Her's, no Subject can stifle,
It shows and discovers itself through a Trifle.
By reading this Trifle I quickly began,
To find Her a great Wit, but the Dean a small Man.
Rich Ladies will furnish their Garrets with Stuff,
Which others for Manteaus would think fine
enough.

So the Wit that is lavishly thrown away here,
Might furnish a Second-Rate Poet a Year.
Thus much for the Verse; we proceed to the next
Where the Nymph has entirely forfaken her Text.

H 3

Her

78 A REBUS anſwered.

Her fine *Panegyricks* are quite out of Season,
And what ſhe describes to be *Merit* is *Treason*.
The Changes which *Faction* has made in the State
Have put the *Dean's* Politicks quite out of
Date.

Now no one regards what he utters with *Free-
dom,*

And ſhou'd he write *Pamphlets* no Great Man
wou'd read 'em.

Nay, ſhou'd *Want* or *Desert* ſtand in need of his
Aid,

This *Racer* wou'd prove but a dull, founder'd
Jade.

ARID-

RIDDLES, &c. 81

THE
THREE gentle SHEPHERDS.

By Mr. POPE.

OF gentle Philips will I ever sing,
With gentle Philips shall the Valley ring.
My Numbers too for ever will I vary,
With gentle Budgell, and with gentle Carey.
Or if in ranging of the Names I judge ill,
With gentle Carey and with gentle Budgell.
Oh! may all gentle Bards together place ye,
Men of good Hearts, and Men of Delicacy.
May Satire ne'er befool ye, or beknave ye,
And from all Wits that have a Knack for Gad
fave ye.

A RID-

84 RIDDLES, &c.

No Passion so weak
But gives it a Tweak,
Love, Joy, and Devotion
Set it always in Motion.
And as for the Tragick
Effects, of its Magick,
Which you say it can kill,
Or revive at its Will.
The Dead are all found
And revive above Ground.
After all you have writ,
It cannot be Wit.
Which plainly does follow,
Since it flies from Apollo.
Its Cowardise such,
It cries at a Touch.
'Tis a perfect Milktop,
Grows drunk with a Drop.
Another great Fault,
It cannot bear Salt;
And a Hair can disarm
It of every charm.

The

The JOURNAL. 85

The JOURNAL

By Doctor SWIFT, Dean of
St. Patrick's, when at
the Lord Chief Baron
Rochfort's House.

THALIA, tell in sober Lays,
How George, Nim, Dan, Dean, pafs their
Days;

And should our Galls-Town Wit grow fallow,
Yet, Neget quis Carmina Gallo?

Here (by the way) by Gallus mean I
Not Sheridan, but Friend Delany.

Begin, my Mufe; Firft, from our Bow'rs
We ifſue forth at diff'rent Hours.

At ſeven the Dean in Night gown dreſt,
Goes round the Houſe to wake the reſt.

At nine grave Nim and George facetious
Go to the Dean to read Lucretius.

VOL. II.

I

At

86 The JOURNAL.

At ten my Lady comes and hecators
And kiffes George, and ends our Lectures,
And when She has Him by the Neck faft,
Hauls Him, and scolds Us down to Breakfaft,
We squander there an Hour and more,
And then all Hands, Boys, to the Oar,
All, Hetero&til, Dan except,
Who neither Time, nor Order kept.
But by peculiar Whimsies drawn,
Peeps in the Ponds to look for Spawn.
O'ersees the Work, or Dragon * rows,
Or spoils a Text, or mends his Hofe;
Or—but proceed we in our Journal,
At two, or after, we return all.
From the four Elements affembling,
Warn'd by the Bell all Flocks come trembling,
From airy Garrets fome defcend,
Some from the Lake's remoteft End.
My Lord and Dean the Fire forſake,
Dan leaves the earthly Spade and Rake.
The Loit'rers quake, no Corner hides them,
And Lady Betty foundly chides them :
Now Water's brought, and Dinner's done,
With Church and King the Lady's gone.
Not reck'ning half an Hour we paſs
In talking o'er a moderate Glafs.
Dan growing drowſy like a Thief,
Steals off to doſe away his Beef.

* My Lord's Boat.

And

The JOURNAL. 87

And this must pass for reading *Hammond*,
While *George* and *Dean* go to Back-Gammon.
*George*, *Nim*, and *Dean* set out at four,
And then again, Boys, to the Oar.
But when the Sun goes to the Deep,
Not to disturb him in his Sleep,
Or make a Rumbling o'er his Head,
His Candle out, and He a-bed.
We watch his Motions to a Minute,
And leave the Flood, when he goes in it.
Now flinted in the shortning Day,
We go to Pray'rs, and then to play
Till Supper comes, and afterthat
We fit an Hour to drink and chat.
'Tis late—the old and younger Pairs,
By *Adam* lighted, walk up Stairs.
The weary *Dean* goes to his Chamber,
And *Nim* and *Dan* to Garret clamber.
So when this Circle we have run,
The Curtain falls, and we have done.
I might have mention'd fev'ral Facts,
Like Episodes between the Acts;
And tell who loses, and who wins,
Who gets a Cold, who breaks their Shins;
How *Dan* caught nothing in his Net,
And how the Boat was overfet;
For Brevity I have retrench'd
How in the Lake the *Dean* was drench'd:

* The Footman.

I 2

It

88 The JOURNAL.

It would be an Exploit to brag on,
How valiant George rode o'er the Dragon:
How steady in the Stern he fat,
And fav'd his Oar, but loft his Hat.
How Nim no Hunter e'er could match Him,
Still brings us Hares, when he can catch'em:
How skilfully Dan mends his Nets,
How Fortune fails him, when he fets.
Or how the Dean delights to vex
The Ladies, or lampoon the Sex.
I might have told how oft Dean Percival
Displays his Pedantry unmerciful,
How haughtily he lifts his Nofe
To tell what ev'ry School-Boy knows,
And with his Finger on his Thumb
Explaining, strikes Opposers dumb:
And how his Wife that Female Pedant,
(But now there need no more be said on't)
Shews all her Secrets of House-keeping,
For Candles how she trucks her Dripping;
Was forc'd to send three Miles for Yeft
To brew her Ale, and raife her Pafte,
Tells ev'ry Thing that you can think of,
How she cur'd Charley of the Chin-Cough;
What gave her Brats and Pigs the Meazles,
And how her Doves were kill'd by Weezles.
How Jowler howl'd, and what a Fright
She had with Dreams the other Night.
But now, since I have gone so far on,
A Word or two of Lord chief Baron;

And

The JOURNAL. 89

And tell how little Weight he sets
On all Whig Papers, and Gazetts;
But for the Politicks of Pue *
Thinks ev'ry Syllable is true.
And since he owns the King of Sweden
Is dead at laft, without evading,
Now all his Hopes are in the Czar,
Why, Muscovy is not so far,
Down the Black Sea, and up the Streights,
And in a Month he's at your Gates:
Perhaps from what the Packet brings
By Christmas we shall see strange Things.
Why should I tell of Ponds and Drains,
What Carps we met with for our Pains;
Of Sparrows tam'd, Nuts innum'rable
To choak the Girls, confume the Rabble;
But you, who are a Scholar, know
How transtient all Things are below;
How prone to change in human Life,
Laft Night arriv'd Clem and his Wife,
This grand Event half broke our Measures,
Their Reign began with cruel Seizures:
The Dean must with his Quilt supply,
The Bed in which these Tyrants lye.
Nim loft his Wig-Block, Dan his Jordan,
My Lady says she can't afford one,
George is half scar'd out of his Wits,
For Clem gets all the dainty Bits.

* A News-Writer.

13

† Clements.

Hence-

90 The JOURNAL.

Henceforth expect a different Survey,
This House will soon turn topfy-turvy.
They talk of further Alterations
Which causes many Speculations.

A Petition to his Grace
the Duke of GRAFTON.

Non Domus & Fundus.

Hor.

IT was, my Lord, the dextrous Shift
Of t' other Jonathan, viz. Swift,
But now St. Patrick's, saucy Dean,
With silver Verge, and Surplice clean,
Of Oxford, or of Ormond's Grace
In looser Rhyme to beg a Place.
A Place He got, yclep'd a Stall,
And eke a thousand Pounds withal;
And were he a leſs witty Writer
He might as well have got a Mitre.

THUS I the Jonathan of Connor
In humble Lays my Thanks to offer,

Approach

The PETITION. 91

Approach your *Grace* with grateful Heart,
My Thanks and Verse devoid of Art,
Content with what your Bounty gave,
No larger Income do I crave:
Rejoycing that in *better Times*
GRAFTON requires my loyal Lines.
Proud ! while my *Patron* is *polite*,
I likewise to the Patriot write.
Proud ! that at once I can commend,
King George's and the Muse's Friend,
Endear'd to *Britain* and to Thee,
(Disjoyn'd *Hibernia* by the Sea)
Endear'd by twice three anxious Years,
Employ'd in Guardian Toils and Cares ;
By Love, by Wisdom, and by Skill,
For He has fav'd Thee againft thy Will.

BUT where shall SMEDLY make his Neft
And lay his wandring Head to Neft ?
Where shall he find a decent Houſe
To treat his Friends, and chear his Spouſe ?
Oh! lack, my Lord, some pretty Cure,
In wholſome Soil, and Æther pure;
The Garden ſtor'd with artleſs Flowers,
In either Angle shady Bowers.
No gay *Parterre* with coſtly Green,
Within the ambient Hedge be ſeen :
Let Nature freely take her Courſe,
Nor fear from one ungrateful Force;
No Sheers ſhall check her ſprouting Vigour,
Nor ſhape the Yews to antick Figure :

A lim-

92 The PETITION.

A limpid Brook shall *Trouts* supply
In May to take the mimick Fly,
Round a small Orchard may it run,
Whose Apples redden to the Sun.
Let all be snug, and warm, and neat,
For fifty turn'd a safe Retreat.
A little *Eufton* may it be,
*Eufton* I'll carve on ev'ry Tree.
But then to keep it in Repair,
My Lord—*Twice fifty Pounds a Year*
Will barely do; but if your *Grace*
Could make them *hundreds*—charming Place!
Thou then would'ft show another Face.

C—*n!* far North, my Lord, it lies,
Midft snowy Hills, inclement Skies,
One shivers with the *Artick* Wind,
One hears the *Polar Axis* grind.
Good *John* indeed with Beef and Claret
Makes the Place warm that one may bear it.
He has a Purfe to keep a Table,
And eke a Soul as hofpitable.
My Heart is good; but Affets fail,
To fight with Storms of Snow and Hail;
Besides the Country's thin of People,
Who seldom meet; but at the Steeple:
The ftrapping Dean that's gone to *Down*,
Ne'er nam'd the Thing without a Frown,
When much fatigu'd with Sermon Study,
He felt his Brain grow dull and muddy.

No

The PETITION. 93

No fit Companion cou'd be found
To push the lazy Bottle round;
Sure then for Want of better Folks,
To pledge, his Clerk was Orthodox.

AH! how unlike to Gerard-Street,
Where Beaus and Belles in Parties meet,
Where gilded Chairs and Coaches throng,
And jostle as they trowl along;
Where Tea and Coffee hourly flow,
And Gape-Seed does in Plenty grow;
And Griz (no Clock more certain) cries
Exact at Seven, Hot Mutton-Pies.
There Lady Luna in her Sphere
Once fhone, when Paunceforth was not near,
But now the wains, and, as 'tis said,
Keeps sober Hours, and goes to Bed.
There—but 'tis endlefs to write down
All the Amusements of the Town;
And Spouse will think herself quite undone
To trudge to Connor from sweet London.
And care we must our Wives to please
Or—else we shall be ill at ease.

You see, my Lord, what 'tis I lack,
'Tis only some convenient Tack,
Some Parsonage House, with Garden sweet,
To be my late, my last Retreat;
A decent Church-Close by its Side,
There preaching, praying, to refide;

And

The ANSWER.

95

While others wrack their busy Brains,
You are not in the least at Pains.
Down to your Deanery repair,
And build a Castle in the Air.
I'm sure a Man of your fine Sense
Can do it with a small Expence.
There your Dear Spouse, and you together,
May breathe your Bellies-full of Æther.
When Lady Luna is your Neighbour,
She'll help your Wife when she's in Labour.
Well skill'd in Midwife Artifices,
For she herself oft' falls in Pieces.
There you shall see a rary Show,
Will make you fear this World below,
When you behold the milky Way,
As white as Snow, as bright as Day,
The glitt'ring Constellations roll
About the grinding Artick Pole.
The lovely tingling in your Ears,
Wrought by the Muffick of the Spheres—
Your Spouse shall then no longer hector,
You need not fear a Curtain Lecture;
Nor shall she think that she is undone
For quitting her beloved London.
When she's exalted in the Skies
She'll never think of Mutton-Pies,
When you're advanc'd above Dean, viz.
You'll never think of Goody Griz.
But ever, ever live at Ease,
And strive, and strive your Wife to please,

In

The PETITION. 97

And now I behold you, I truly believe
That you're as like Adam as I am like Eve;
Before the dire Serpent your Virtue betray'd,
And taught them to fly from the Sun to the Shade.
But you, as in you, a new Race has begun,
Are teaching to fly from the Shade to the Sun,
For you in great Goodneſs your Friends are
perſwading

To go, and to live, and be wife, in your Eden.
Oh! let me go with you, Oh! pity my Youth,
Oh! take me from hence, let me not loſe my
Truth.

Sure you that have Virtue ſo much in your Mind
Can't think to leave me, who am Virtue, behind.
If you make me your Wife, Sir, in Time you
may fill a

Whole Town with your Children, and likewife
your Villa.

I famous for Breeding, You famous for Know-
ledge,

I'll found a whole Nation, you'll found a whole
College,

When many long Ages in Joys we have ſpent,
Our Souls we'll reſign with the utmoſt Content:
And gently we'll ſink beneath Cypreſs and Eugh,
You lying by Me, and I lying by You.

VOL. II.

K

THE

98 The DENIAL.

THE
ANSWER of a LADY,
to a GENTLEMAN,
after a long Courtship.

I.

WHEN Slaves their LIBERTY require,
They hope no more to gain;
But You not only That desire
But ask the Power to Reign.

II.

Think how unjust a Suit you make,
Then will you soon decline;
Your FREEDOM, when you please, pray take;
But trespafs not on Mine.

III. No

4 The PRAISE of OWLS.

his Expectations. *Plutarch* in the Life of *Pericles* tells us, that while he was making an Harangue upon Deck, an *Owl* flew upon his right Hand, and after fixt on the Maft; which remarkable Token so moved his Auditors that they immediately affent-ed to his Propofals. I cannot but promife my ſelf the fame good Luck, while I am attempting to fet forth the Praifes of this excellent *Bird*, and that without Flattery, by refcuing him from the Contempt which he has undefervedly met with. There is no doubt but the *Praifes* of an *Owl* will be grateful to many, ſince in our Days there are ſuch great Numbers who reſemble him in their Dispoſitions. Now, according to the Opinion of *Ariſtotle*, the Prince of Philosophers, every one is apt to be pleased with another who is like him; for *Birds* of a Feather always will flock together. That we therefore may fet the OWL in his full Light, it will be proper to begin with his Name; for as †Clemens Alexandri nus rightly obſerves, there are two Idea's of Truth, *Names* and *Things*: Therefore we ſhall begin with the *Name* and then pro- ceed to the *Fowl*.

* (orschon achot vín.)

† Aúó eisid éidéai tis eicondeias ta t' oikómati kij
tu nesagúmati. Strom. Lib. 6.

As.

The PRAISE of OWLS.

5

As to the first Article, we shall find
a Variety of Opinions. Thofe who would
derive the Word *Ulula* from the Hebrew
word *Alab*, are in my Opinion miftaken;
for what does the word *Alab* signify but to
swear, to forswear, to curfe? from whence
they fancy the *Owl* took his Latin-Name
*Ulula*, or *Owlula*, becaufe he never swears;
but he might as well take his Name from
a Word which signifies to laugh, becaufe
he is never subject to that pleafant Paffion.
For what they bring concerning the Signi-
fication of this Word in the *Chaldee*, is
indeed appofite enough, but the Expofiti-
on is ftrained ſince it occurs but once in
the Hebrew Text. I rather incline to their
Opinion who derive it from the Word
*Jabal*, from whence comes the word *Halil
to howl*, to wail, which is a Sound proper
to this Animal, tho' he makes a Diverfity
of Noifes, and ſeems to be well ſkilled in
all Languages; for who, I beſeech you,
can refer the following Words, to one
Language only, ULULU from whence
comes *Ululare*, to howl; CUCUHU, from
whence comes *Cucubare*, to make a diſmal
crying; and TUTUHU, from whence
we meet in *Plantus* with the Word TUTU;
and in *He ychius* with TITO. Moreover,
*Nigidius* attributes to the OWL nine dif-
ferent Names, repreſenting as many dif-
ferent Sounds, of which thofe we have

B 3

men.

6 The PRAISE of OWLS.

mentioned are the Chief; and concerning
which, the Reader may confult Pliny's *
Natural Hiftory: Now all theſe Sounds
reſemble that Noife which Men make
when they are ſtiff with Cold, or the
loud Crying of the Votaries of Bacchus,
and hence comes the German Word Huylen,
Howling. Now, it is certainly wonderful that
the Sound of this Creature from whence
its Name is derived, ſhould remain inva-
riably the fame in all original Tongues,
which diſtinguifhing Accident was former-
ly thought peculiarly to belong to a Sack:
From † whence it evidently appears with
how great Eſteem our OWL has been
treated by his moſt ancient Patrons, in
every Country, and Nation; as alſo, that
his Name was given him with great Care
and Judgement, which Affe&tion he hopes
(O Fathers and Patrons of OWLS) will
ſtill be continued towards him. Do but
obſerve how near this Animal comes to
human Wit, which is able to expreſs the
Voice and Lamentation of Men; though
Alcibiades out of a ſingular Conceit found
fault with the Harp becauſe it reſembled
a Man's Voice; yet ſure n) Man will re-
ject the OWL upon this Account: For

* Lib. 10. c. 17.

† Vid *Wilb*; Schickardi *Hörol*. Hebr. de Harmo-
nia originum.

the

The PRAISE of OWLS. 7

the Orators and Poets frequently represent
Men as *Howling*; so the great Father of
*Roman Eloquence*, fays * of a certain Man,
that he began to cry out with a howling
Voice. *Lucan* speaking of the Soldiers
fays — *Lātis* ululare *Triumphis*: And
*Virgil* thus describes the Bacchanals, *Aft
alia tremulis* ululatibus &thera complent.
And again — *Fæmineis* ululant *Plangoribus
ādes*. Surely it is a wonderful Piece of
Sagacity in this *Bird* to imitate the Voice
and Lamentation of a Man, whence it is
easy to observe that he makes considerable
Approaches to human Nature.

*Doclam imitatricem, et veras hinc ducere voces.*

I know very well that †Plato and ||Ari-
flotile afflert that the Hyena has as great a
Claim to Humanity, becaufe she is wont
to imitate a human Voice; but in her
'tis not natural but acquired and employed
to the baſeſt Ends of Perſidiouſneſs and
Cruelty; for the ſame Authors tell us
that the Hyena would get among the
Sheep-folds, and call out ſome Shepherd
by his Name that ſo he might devour him
when alone; but the Sound of our Bird

* Ululanti voce canere Cæpiffet. Cic.

† Lib. 8. Hift. Nat. cap. 30.

|| H. A. Lib. 6. cap. 32.

18

8 The PRAISE of OWLS.

is natural and always the fame, and
brings no Prejudice to Mankind; and
although he is not a Man, yet he acts his
Part with singular Humanity. In the
mean Time I beſeech ye, O Patrons,
not to be so inhuman as to imagine that
this Sound we are ſpeaking of is like that
of a Wolf, becauſe a Wolf is faid to howl;
but believe it is attributed to Wolves in
Imitation of your Pupil. A ſmall Skill
in the Hiflory of the Creation will let you
ſee that the OWL was created before the
Wolf; and you cannot but think it reaſon-
able to ſuppofe that the Animals received
their Names according to the Order in
which they were created. Confider far-
ther, that the moſt of the Birds which
ſlew out of the Ark after the firſt ſending
out of the Raven had their Names agree-
able to the Noife and Sound which they
made: Thus the Cuckoe was denominated
from his Note; the Pye from its Chatte-
ring; and the Crane, and the Crow from
their reſpective Sounds, &c. Thus the
OWL obtained his Name from the peculiar
Lamentablenefs of his Voice, which ought
to be eſteemed as honourable, as it was
formerly thought by ſome to be denomi-
nated from Laughter. Buxtorſ obſerves,
that the OWL takes his Name from the
Hebrew word Faaneb; neither (conſcript
Fathers) is this his Obſervation deſplicable,
for

The PRAISE of OWLS. 9

for the Creature we are speaking of fends
forth fuch a Sound as is immediately dou-
bled, and often repeated, and thrown
back with a wonderful Accent.

Qualis Iö Arethuſa Iö Arethuſa vocanti.

Now what is sweeter than an Eccho ? what  
can be more entertaining or delightful to  
the Ear ? since it often makes the Unex-  
perienced admire themfelves, and hearken  
with ſurprizing Attention as * Ovid has  
ſhewn us in the melancholy Story of  
Narciſus. Farther, we may obſerve for  
the Honour of this Word Ulula, that a  
noted City in Italy took its Name from it,  
by Reafon that OWLS were there very  
common ; which Place was famous for the  
Birth and Education of Auguſtus Caſar.  
Hence Horace ſays,

Eſt Ulubris animus ſi te non deficit &quus. †

Nor can I ſee why Petronius Arbiter
ſhould triumph more in the Sound of his
Carpus, than we in that of our Bird||. But
if Anagrammatizing, or playing upon the

* 3. *Metam. Fab.* 8.

† *Vide Porphyry. ad H. l. Epist. 2. Lib.*

|| Ad Carpum (inquit) qui dicit Carpe, eodem
verbo & vocat & imperat..

Sound

## IO The PRAISE of OWLS.

Sound of Words were to be allowed, we
might draw a very jocofe Punning Parallel
between thofe of ULULA and ALLELU.
Though with all due Deference be it spo-
ken, how ftrangely has this laft Hebrew
Word been stretched even by the Fathers
of the Church (the Title of Children in
fuch Conceits much better befitting them)
to create Confusion in weak Minds, and
thereby fupport the Controverfies of the
Times, which (says a moft judicious Writer)
are like Spirits in the Mines, with all their
Labour nothing is done*.

This Word which Signifies no more than Praise,†
His tortur'd been by Priests a thousand Ways||.

And when the Syllable jah was added
thereto (ALLELUJAH) what better Ap-
pellation than OWLS do thofe Men de-
serve who have given us the following ri-
diculous Interpretations thereof. Hear St.
Ferom‡, AILLE, that is, Creatura, (Crea-
ture) LU, laudato, (Praife) JAH, Dominum,
(Lord). Now, St. Ambroſe, ALLE, that
is, Lux, (Light) LU, Virtus, (Virtue)

* Mr. Hales of Fton.

† Allelu id eſt Laudate.

|| Dryden's Mac Flecknoe.

‡ Inveni in M. SS. abavi mei, qui hujus wocis
interpretationes è patribus collegit.

JAH,

The PRAISE of OWLS. II

JAH, Vita, (Life). Next, St. Austin,
ALLE, Salva, (Save) LU, me. Laftly,
St. Gregory; Now for the finishing Stroke;
He, without any Bones, confidently af-
firms, that ALLE, signifies Pater, LU,
Filius, JAH, Spiritus Sanctus, i. e. Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost. Thus is the Mystery
of the most adorable TRINITY defined;
Monstrum Horreudum! Now were such
diftant Constructions to be drawn from
the Latin Name of our Bird (ULULA)
what might not be made of it? In short,
if after the Manner of the Grammarians,
Rabbi's, and venerable Fathers, we should
discuss the deepest Mysteries which lie
hid in the word Ulula there would be no
End, however we shall just mention some
few of them. The first Letter V denotes
Volucris (a Bird), the second Letter L
signifies Lepida (fine); the third Letter
V denotes vera (true); the fourth Letter
L signifies Laus (Praife); and the fifth and
last Letter A, Avium (of Birds) from whence
we may reasonably conclude that the
OWL is a very fine Bird, and a great
Ornament to all his winged Fraternity.
But as Venus and Minerva too, have more
than one Name, so also has our Fowl, hav-
ing the Name of Nodua among the Latins
as well as Ulula, because he appears and
sings in the Night. Hence the Grecians
call'd him Nuntius, and in some Coun-
tries

12 The PRAISE of OWLS.

tries he is called *Nacht*—*nyl* and *Nacht*-rave.
Now the Learned give two Reasons why
the Nature of the OWL prompts him to
appear in the *Night*, one is the Greynefs
of his Eyes which will not permit him to
see any Thing well in the Day-Time.
Now that thofe who have grey Eyes can
see but indifferently in the Day-Time,
but very clearly in the *Night*, is positive—
ly affirmed by *Pliny* that great Searcher
into the Secrets of Nature*; but we do
not only attribute this Greynefs of Eyes,
in common with the OWL, to the *Horfe*,
and the *Lyon*, but also his own *Mi—*
*nerva*, who is often ftiled Grey-eyed by
*Homer*, *Hesiod*, and other Poets, and this
is the Goddeſs to whom our Bird is sacred,
and by whom he is had in the greatest
Admiration†. Now this Goddeſs is wifer
in the Opinion of *Jupiter* himſelf, than
all the other Gods and Goddeſſes||. For—
merly the Gods chofe particular Trees to
be under their ſpecial Patronage. *Jupiter*
was pleafed to chufe the *Oak*, and *Venus*
the *Myrtle*. *Apollo* chofe the *Laurel*,
*Cybele* the *Pine*-Tree, and *Hercules* admired
the tall *Poplar*. *Minerva* in Admiration

* Hift. Nat. Lib. II. cap. 32.

† Vid Suid.

|| In Fab. l. Phæd.

afked

The PRAISE of OWLS. I³
asked why they chose barren Trees; Jupi-
iter told her it was, because they would
not seem to fell Fruit for Honour. Pallas
replied, let every one follow his own
Judgement; for my Part, I must confess,
I prefer the Olive because of its Fruit.
Then the Father of Gods and Men an-
swered, thou haſt undeniably ſhewn thy
ſelf the wiser, for unleſs what we do be
profitable, Glory is but vain. Nor is it
any wonder that Pallas ſhould be wiser
than her Father himself, for he ſprang
from the very Seat of Wisedom, and *leaped
out of the Brain of Jupiter, having the
Way laid open by an Inſtrument of Vul-
can's; for which Reaſon he was conſtitu-
ted the Goddeſs of Wisedom, and of all
Arts and Philofophy. And although the
Grammarian are not much out when they
derive the Word Cæsar from Cæſis oculis
(grey Eyes), yet certainly our OWL muſt
be owned to have a Reſemblance to ſo
great a Monarch as Cæsar and Augustus his
Successor, ſince they both had grey Eyes;
so that as in crooked Noſes you have hi-
therto acknowledged Cæsar, so you will
take Notice of the diſtinguishing Colour
which adorns the Eyes of our Bird. In-
deed, if the OWL had not grey Eyes, yet

* Lucian in Dialogo Vulcani & Jovis.

C

never-

14 The PRAISE of OWLS.

nevertheles he would not be able to fee
well in the Day-Time; for our Philoso-
phers bring another Reafon why the OWL
cannot fee in the Day-Time, viz. That
there is a dry and thin Subſtance in the
OWL's Eyes which is diffipated and ex-
tinguifhed by the Luſtre of the Day, as
the Stars are hidden in the Preſence of the
Sun. Farther, as there was often a great
Affinity between Men and Birds; fo fre-
quently Mens Vices were unjuſtly aſcrib-
ed to OWLS, as when Nyctemene offended,
it was aſcribed to the OWL: And there-
fore, ſays the Poet,

(dorem

Conſpectum Lucemque fugit, Tenebrijſque Pu-
Celat ——

You fee then that the Baſhfulneſs (or Mo-
deſty rather) of our Bird, is the Reaſon
why he appears not in the Day-Time:
You fee (Fathers) the Piety of this Bird;
how much does he excel thoſe who ne-
ver bluſh, or ſhow in their Faces the
leaſt Token of Shame or Modeſty! You
fee that your Bird is ſo aſhamed even of
another's Crime, ſo deeply does he bluſh,
that he cannot fee even at Noon-Day.
But, however that be, this is moſt certain,
that he has but little Uſe of his Sight in
the Day-Time. Since then his Eyes are dim,
as Pliny teſtifies; yet from hence we muſt
not

* Lib.

The PRAISE of OWLS. 15

not conclude that our Bird is a dark Lan-
tern, or like a difinal Cyclops with his
Eyes ftruck out, to whom Demades com-
pared Alexander's Army after his Death.
Be of good Chear, Fathers and Patrons,
your Pupil is a brifk and fprightely Bird at
Night, and by the Sharpnefs of his Eyes
then, makes ample Amends for their Weak-
nefs in the Day-Time. He is then indued
with an acuter Sight than the royal Eagle,
or the Peloponnesian Serpent; infomuch
that he is fharp-fighted, and can clearly
difcern Objects in the thickeft Darkneſs.
Then as Eufathius tells us, his Eyes glitter
like a burning Lamp; whatever Crescentius
may ſay to the contrary*, who argues,
that by reaſon of the Want of a proper
Medium, that is, the Illumination of the
Air by the Sun or Moon, he can hardly ſee.
Indeed, his Argument will hold good with
Reſpect to Men and other Animals; but
our Bird muſt be excepted by reaſon his
Eyes are formed after a particular Man-
ner. The OWL then has, in the Night, no
need of Light; he wants neither a Lamp
nor Candle, ſince he himſelf illuminates all
around, following herein the firſt Origin
of Nature, when Light ſhone out of Dark-
neſs; and in this Reſpect he is much hap-

* Lib. 10. cap. 15.

C 2.

pier

16 The PRAISE of OWLS.

pier than thofe Men whom Pliny speaks
of*, who could see well enough in the Day,
but were quite blind at Night. Confider,
O ye Fathers, whether in this Reſpect he
is not more fortunate than all Men, who
want ſome auxiliary Light in the Night-
Time, when they are about to do any
Work, or purſue their Studies? Unleſs
we may except a few, from this Rule, as
Tiberius Cæsar, and the two Scaligers; it is
reported of Tiberius that he had moſt ex-
cellent Eyes, and what is really wonder-
ful, at Night he could see very well in
the dark; but this held but for a ſhort
Time, when he firſt awoke out of his
Sleept; but our Bird maintains the Sharp-
neſs of his Sight all Night long: As for
the two Scaligers, and their being able to
ſee in the Dead of Night, as well as others
at Twilight||, I think none will doubt the
Truth of it, except ſome ſurly Criticks;
yet theſe could not do it in every Hour;
but the OWL can see clearly through the
whole Night, as I juſt now obſerved, be it
ever ſo long; nay, I believe, he felt no De-
cay in his Eye-fight all that long Night in
which Hercules was begotten; and though
he was no ſew yet could he see very well

* Nychipolas apellat. Lib. 6. 20. cap.

† Vid Suet. in Tiberio.

|| Vid Epift. de gente Scaligera.

in

The PRAISE of OWLS. 17

in the *Egyptian* Darkneſs. Now thofe who
have not this Talent of ſeeing in the
Dark, muſt take care to furniih them-
felves with a Lamp or ſomewhat of that
Nature. Hence the Performances of the
Learned were ſtiled *Lucubrations*, becauſe
they were generally wrote by the Light
of a Lamp, (or Candle,) in which more
Oil than Wine is confumed : Agreea-
ble to the Story that is told of *Deko-
ſthenes*. It was a noted Speech concerning
him that *his* Orations *fmelt of the* Lamp,
becauſe he compoſed and wrote them in
the Night. Now how chargeable is this,
and what a great Expence muſt it be
to maintain ſuch conſtant *Lucubration*, ef-
pecially at this Time when Oil and Can-
dles are ſo dear! I am ſenſible that in
your great œconomical Wifdom, you muſt
be very apprehenſive of the Importance
of this Article : How great then is the
OWLS Prerogative who is at none of theſe
nightly Expences ? As every Letter of
his Name does expreſs (I confefs not with-
out ſome Mуſtery ;*) from hence (con-
fcript Fathers) you may eafily obſerve how
beautiful the Order of Nature is in ap-
pointing *Birds* which ſhould be able to ſee

* *Noctua* enim eſt *Noctu omnia* cernens Ten-
broſa viſu acuto; ita.

Conveniunt Rebus Nomina ſæpe ſuis.

C 3

to

The PRAISE of OWLS. 19
and fhine by Night: And who can be so
infatuated as to deſpife the Moon becaufe
the diſplays her lovely Silver only in the
Night ? There are Changes of Times and
Variety of Things ; and there is a proper
Seafon aſſigned to every Creature, as well
of acting as of living. Hence the *Athe-*
*nians* in Honour of *Pallas* and her Bird per-
formed their ſacred Rites by Night, and
in the open Air*.

We fhall not waſte altogether ſo much
Time in enquiring after the native Soil
of the OWL, as we have done in diſcour-
fing on his Name. We read that ſeven
Cities contended for the Honour of Ho-
mer's Birth, but all muſt confefs that the
whole World is our Bird's Country, a very
few Places excepted ; and in this Reſpect
he is not unlike Socrates the wifeft Man
of his Age, who being aſked to what Place
he belonged, replied, *I am † a Citizen of
the World.* Alſo, he is like Diogenes, who
being aſked what Sort of a Perſon he was,
replied, *I am a Compound of every Sort.*
We need not then, after the Manner of
Orators, go about to fet forth the Praiſes
of ſo ſpacious a Country, which would be
with *Augustus Cæsar* to deſcribe the Uni-
verſe. Yet tho' our Bird ranges through

* Cicero de Leg. Lib. 2.

† *Kοσμοπολίτω.* Laert. in *Ejus vita*.

the

20 The PRAISE of OWLS.

the World, he has some Places in which
he particularly delights; and *Pliny tells
us, that the Island of Crete produces no
OWLS, and if one be brought into that
Island it will immediately die. Confider,
(conscript Fathers,) what Buſineſs our Bird
can have in that Country, whoſe Natives
were notorious for Lying, Luſt, Luxury,
and all Manner of Vices, and whom St.
Paul ſmartly reproves out of their own
Poet Epimenides; the Cretans are always
Liars, evil Beaſts, flow Bellies; and far-
ther adds, that this Teſtimony is true.
They were indeed infamous throughout
Greece, for lying and endeavouring to im-
pose upon their Neighbours by falſe and
ridiculous Stories; hence came the Word
κοινητίζειν to be uſed all over Greece, to
ſignify the Heighth of Falſehood and Diſ-
 simulation, becauſe they boaſted that Ju-
piter's Sepulcher was in their Island: But
now our Bird is free from all theſe Vices,
and therefore carefully avoids that Island,
much wiser in this Reſpect than many
Men, who ſhun not the Company of vici-
ous Perſons. The OWL chufes purer Re-
gions, and thence reaps no ſmall Advan-
tage; ſince he who converſes with evil
Perſons muſt neceſſarily be tainted, &c.

* Lib. 10. cap. 29.

Bellonius

The PRAISE of OWLS. 21

Bellonius indeed afferts, that a certain Bird
which fucks the Milk from the Goats, (and
which fome will have to be a Sort of an
OWL) becaufe by the Testimony of Ari-
flotile it is feldom seen in the Day-Time,
* made so great a Noife in Crete that all
the Inhabitants were ſmitten with Amaze-
ment; whence fome may perhaps be apt
to imagine, that at leaft fome Kind of
OWLS have found their Way thither: But
to ſpeak the Truth this Creature has no
Affinity with the OWL, but is vaſtly
bigger, and milks the Goats in the Night-
Time; from whence he is called Caprimul-
gust. Now, who ever heard of any ſuch
Action performed by our Bird, or even by
the largeſt Troops of OWLS? but fetting
theſe Abſurdities aſide, we will confider
what Pliny, who is moſt expert in the Se-
crets of Nature, farther tells us concerning
the OWL's Habitation, viz. That he is
never to be seen on the Alpine-Hills; the
Reaſon of which I ſuppofe is, becauſe Pro-
vifion there is deficient, and Snow plenteſul,
and the Air moſt cold and piercing. Such
formidable Places he may well avoid ſince
it coſt the great Hannibal so much Labour
to pafs through them, which is thus Ele-

* H. A. Lib. 9. cap. 39.

† Pliny, Lib. 10. cap. 40.

gantly

22 The PRAISE of OWLS.

gantly expreſſed by one of our moſt ce-
lebrated English Poets,*

Like Gods we paſs'd the rugged Alpine-Hills
Melted our Way and drove our biffing Wheels,
Thro' cloudy Deluges, eternal Rills.
What after Ages ſhall with Pain believe,
Thro' burning Quarries did our Paſſage cleave,
Hurl'd dreadful Fire and Vinegar infus'd,
Whose horrid Force the Nerves of Flints un-
(loos d,
Made Nature ſtart to see us root up Rocks,
And open all the Adamantine Locks;
Shake off her maffy Bars, o'er Mountains go
Thro' Globes of Ice and Flakes of ſolid Snow.

We are not therefore to wonder if the
OWL feeks for a more convenient Seat,
where he may lead a Life according to his
own Desires in a warmer Climate; and in
this he ſhows an exquifite Judgement. How
often do we see Men changing their Habi-
tation for Convenience-fake, tranſporting
their little Houſes like the Tortoife, or
roving like the wandring Scythians, left
they perifh for Want of Necessaries. And
ſelf Intereft (as to this Matter) will pre-
vail over the dulleft or rougheſt Tempers.
But here we muſt firſt of all wonder at

* Lee's Sophonisba.

the

The PRAISE of OWLS. 23

the great Judgement of the OWL, that
among all other Kingdoms and Provinces
he should make choice of Greece, the Mo-
ther of Arts and Sciences, where he was
made a Denizen of Attica*, which was re-
markable for Plenty of OWLS; but our
Bird chose the famous City of Athens as
his royal Seat, and from thence he drew
out his Colonies; whence NOCTUAS
Athenas became a Proverb. Let us now
a little consider the Nature of this Region
and City. Athens was always renowned
for Strength and Beauty; infomuch that
Tully calls it the Market of Letters; and
St. Austin affirms it to be the Mother and
Nurse of liberal Disciplines, and of many
great Philosophers who were never exceeded
by any educated through the whole Country
of Greece. Athens was a City which was
so famous for Eloquence, Knowledge, Wif-
dom, Sobriety, and Justice, that Pliny in
his Time affirmed, it was like to the Serener
Regions above, and was so illustrious as to
transcend all Praises whatsoever: Here it
was (I say) that the OWLS fixed their

* Regio est Achaica ab Agro Megaron si usque ad
Sunium Promontorium ext. nsa.

† Matrem et Nutricem Liberalium Disciplinarum et tot tantorumque Philosophorum, qua nihil habuit Græcia clarius atque nobilius. — De Civitat Dei Lib. 18. cap. 9.

|| Lib. 4. cap. 7.

certain

24 The PRAISE of OWLS.

certain and imperial Seats. Neither were
they troublesome to the Inhabitants by
reason of their Numbers, as Sparrows, Ra-
vens, Swallows, and other noisy Birds were
apt to be; on the contrary, the Citizens
were inexpressibly delighted with the
OWLS who pitched their Tents among
them, and reckoned their Flying to be a
Sign of Victory, because they were sacred
to Minerva; for which Reason the Ath-
nians had stamped both on their Gold and
Silver the Effigies of Pallas on one Side,
and on the Reverse the Figure of our Bird;
which a Servant pleasantly remembred
when he was Enigmatically discovering his
Theft to his Master; there are, says he,
many OWLS that lodge under our Roof,
meaning the Pieces of Money which were
hidden, and had the Figure of the OWL
upon them: To which *Aristophanes al-
ludes, when he thus spoke to the Inhabi-
tants of Lauros, whose Country abounded
with Veins of Gold; The Owls will not
forfake you, but are present in your very
Houses, and build themselves Nefts in your
Purges. Moreover, (to talk a little in our
own Stile) the Piece of Money adorned
with the Image of Jupiter would go but
for Six-pence, whereas that which was

* In avibus.

stamped

The PRAISE of OWLS. 25

stamped with the Effigies of Minerva and
the OWL was worth four Shillings; of so
much greater Account was the Money
that had our Bird upon it, than that
which was dignified with the Image of
Jupiter himself; on the contrary, the very
Heads of Eagles are not preferred before the
Heads of Owls on Coin, but this we must
attribute to Want of Judgement; however,
I cannot but wish that the OWL was as
much esteemed by us as he was by the A-
thenians; and even that Part of them who
were ready to drive their Neighbours, and
Countrymen from their proper Seats, yet
willingly admitted the Owls into their
Country, hospitably treated them and
made them free of the City. Now what
was formerly more glorious, while Greece
was flourishing, than to be called a Gre-
cian? Or a Citizen of Athens when that
Place was in its Beauty? As there was
nothing more honourable than to be stiled
a Roman, while Rome was the triumphant
Queen of the World. This Title, there-
fore, of an Athenian our Owl claims, which
was even denied to the Women of Athens,
as * St. Austin tells us out of Varro. It is
also very observable in the sacred Writ-
ings, that God drove out the * Babylonians

* De Civitat Dei Lib. 18. cap. 9.

† *Isaiah* c. xiii. 21. *Ferem. xxxix.*

D

from

26 The PRAISE of OWLS.

from their Seat, and introduced Troops of
Owls into their Kingdom, to whom he
gave the Habitations of Men : So great a
Monarchy was transferred from Men to
Owls! And tho' their Bounds were thus
enlarged, they dwelt chiefly in the Woods,
in Caves, and desolate Houfes, in Vallies,
Stony Places, hollow Trees, and Willows
juft finking with Age, there they live with
Pleasure:

—*Licet sub paupere Teſto,*
*Reges et Regum vita præcurrere amicos.*

Hor.

Now this is certainly better than the Habi-
tation of Dioenes; the Cynick, who, as Laer-
tius tells us, dwelt in a Tub. They paffed
indeed with the Change of Monarchies
from the Chaldeans to the Persians, from
the Persians, to the Grecians, and from the
Grecians, to the Romans; and after the
Roman Empire extended thro' the World,
Owls also were disperſed through every
Region, and it would therefore now be
inhuman to banish them, let them there-
fore live happily with you as long as they
pleafe.

Thus have I defcribed his Country, Ha-
bitation, and peculiar City; I fuppofe, by
this Time, you may be defirous to hear of
the Origine and Generation of your Pupil.

Now

The PRAISE of OWLS. 27

Now it is plain that the OWL was created
before Adam, and affuredly before all that
Croud of Heathen Gods and Goddeffes
which old Hefiod has made such a Pother
about. There is a Dispute from whence
he was produced in the firft Creation;
since some of the Learned affirm, that
Birds were raied out of the Water, and
Men out of the Earth: For who among
you can believe that any living Creature
was produced from the Air or the Fire?
Since *Aristotle, that Prince of Philofo-
phers, affirms it to be impoffible; though
†Pliny says, that in some Furnaces in Cy-
prus there is engendred a winged four-
footed Animal; but however that be, it
is beyond all Controverſy certain, that
our Bird had not his Original from the
Fire, nor can he live in it like the Sala-
mander: Nor was it ever heard even a-
mong the wildeſt poetical Fictions that
any living Creature was produced from the
Air alone. Thofe who are of Opinion
that the Birds were produced from the
Waters, bring their Proof from the Hi-
ſtory of the Creation: ||Let the Waters
bring forth abundantly, living Creatures, and
Fowls which may fly upon the Earth: But

* *Meteor*. cap. 4.

† *Lib. II*. *cap*. 36.

|| *Gen*. i. 20.

D 2

thofe

28 The PRAISE of OWLS.

thofe who are of Opinion they were produ-
ced from the Earth, have the following
Words on their Side; *And the Lord God
formed out of the Ground all the Beafts of
the Field, and all the Fowls of the Air;
which latter Opinion we embrace, becaufe
it is not faid let the Waters bring forth
Birds, as was faid concerning the creeping
Things, but only Fowls which may fly upon the
Earth; this rather confirms our Opinion
than destroys it. Now as to the Plocrea-
tion of this Creature, that he may ac-
cording to the old Saying begin, ab Ovo
We muft know that the ordinary Genera-
tion of an OWL is from an Egg, from
which all, except the primigenial One,
(as out of a Trojan Horfe) have Sprung

Et Nati Natorum et qui Nascentur ab illis.

Tho' there are fome so ftupid as to affert
that OWLS lay no Eggs, certainly they
deferve to be pelted with rotten Ones, or
to Swallow the Young, together with the
Egg for their Folly. That there are fuch
Eggs, Experience the Miftrels of Fools
manifeftly proves; and we have often
feen them with our Eyes, which is unde-

* Gen. ii. 1. 9.

niable

The PRAISE of OWLS. 29
niable Evidence, and we have also felt
them with our Hands. But here arises that
old Dispute among Philosophers, whether
the Owl or the Egg first exifted, for the
Owl comes from an Egg, and the Egg from
the OWL: A wonderful Thing! for if the
Egg was before the Owl, whence came the
Egg ? If the Owl was before the Egg,
whence came the OWL? *Plutarch and
†Macrobius have largely treated of this
Matter; but we may easily solve the
Question from the History of the Creati-
on which certifys us, that all Animals
were first made perfect, (notwithstand-
ing St. Austin seems to be of Opinion,
that there were Eggs before the Exi-
fence of Birds.) The Owl therefore was
before the Egg; and when it proceeds from
an Egg, 'tis not from a difastrous one like
that of a Cock, from whence is faid to
spring a fiery Serpent; but its own auſpi-
cious and profitable one, like to the Ori-
gine of Caſtor and Pollux, who Sprung
from an Egg, which had two Folks in one
Shell: Now, this Egg was very auſpicious
and profitable to Mortals; if it were not
fo, the Twin-Constellation in the Heavens
would not be reckoned fo favourable to

* In Symposiacis.

† Lib. 7. Saturn.

D 3

Mari-

30 The PRAISE of OWLS.

Mariners. We read that *St. Paul was in
a Ship adorned with the Sign of Cæstor and
Pollux; such great Companions has our
OWL as these two Deities, who also had
their Original from an Egg. Indeed, this
our Bird is produced from an Egg in a dif-
ferent Way from other Birds; since we
read in †Pliny that it comes out of the Egg
with its Tail foremost, because the Heavines's
of its Head has caused it to be at a greater
Distance from the cherishing Warmth of the
Female. Now this is wonderful; nor
can even the Crab-fish who go backwards
all their Lives pretend to come into the
World by this Method. How many Com-
panions has the OWL in this Respect,
who manage every Affair in Life prepofter-
oufly, and turn about with their Backfides
before their Heads, and the End before the
Means, which they could learn no where
so readily as from our OWL. Noble Pal-
las, what an admirable Thing it is to have
a tractable Scholar! Moreover, Philoftra-
tus tells us a wonderful Thing concerning
the Egg of an OWL; Observe (says he)
where the Owl builds her Nest, and then
take the Eggs and roasting them moderately
give them to a little Child: Because whoever
eats of these Eggs before he has tafted Wine

* Acta xxviii.

† Lit. cap. 6.

will

The PRAISE of OWLS.

31

will ever have an Antipathy to Wines, and
consequently be sober all his Life-Time, thus
far Philoftratus. Nor does their Vertue ex-
tend only to Infants and Children, but
likewise (as we are informed by several
Physicians) to Drunkards who are of riper
Years : For if they take these Eggs three Days
together in Wine, they will ever after abhor
it. How is it then that so many in our
Days either know not these Things or
contemn them ? For who has a sufficient
Efteem for this Bird ? or rightly confiders
his Extraction, and how by his Means he
may make himself temperate. We can
attribute this Ignorance to nothing so well
as to the Prejudices of Education ; but
left you should imagine that all OWLS
(as springing from an Egg) are of equal
Dignity : It is to be observed that there
are several Species of this Bird, of which
one is commonly efteemed nobler than
the other ; as in human Kind one Family
excels another in Honour. Now among
the different Sorts of OWLS there is one
called Otis, because it has Wings about its
Ears, as *Aristotle affures us. The Latins
call him Ulula Aurita, which, as Pliny
testifies, is larger than the common OWLS,
and has Wings about his Ears, which are

* H. A. Lib. 8. cap. 12.

big-

32 The PRAISE of OWLS.

bigger than ordinary : Hence also the Latins call him Afio, the Dutch Oor-uyle. Now he agrees in this Protuberance of Ears with MIDAS King of the Phrygians, and with you also (conscript Fathers;) for if we may believe Perfius,

Auriculas Afini Quis non habet ?

Now this Creature (Afio,) becaufe he cannot see well in the Night, has it abundantly made up in the Quickneſs of his hearing ; for we are not to imagine that Nature has given him ſuch large Ears in vain : Befides, the Night-Seaſon is the propereſt Time for Quickneſs of hearing, as the *Stagyrite tells us : And Nature generally orders it ſo, that when one of the natural Faculties is to be in Perfection the other is made remiſs. Thus in a Man, if the intelligent Faculty be predominant, then the refreshing Senſitive and digeſting Powers is weakened : Hence, take a very ſtudious Man out of your Society, and you will find his Stomach out of order, and he will view with Grief large Gammons of Bacon hanging in the Chimney : On the other Hand, you will find a Peaſant, who does not trouble his Head with Controver-

* Arifot. Problem. Seft. 11. Queſt. 33.

fies,

The PRAISE of OWLS.

fies, to be a very good trencher Companion,
let his Fare be what it will : Again, when
the Passions are predominant, the intelligent
Faculty is weakened; and when a Person
is wholly taken up with the Care of po-
lishing his Mind, (as I trust you all do) he
regards but little the Advantages of Drels
and Ornament, and often fits down to Din-
ner without his Neckcloth, or goes to
Market with his Shoes unbuckled. So,
as often as you are intent on viewing any
Object, the Hearing is suspended; on the
contrary, while you are attentively listening
to any Sound, you scarce mind the Objects
which are before you. Confider then (Fa-
thers,) that though the Bird we are dif-
courting of has a weak Sight in the Day-
Time, yet his hearing is stronger and more
intense; which is also applicable to all
OWLS in general, who, though they
have not so large Ears as the Otis, yet
excel all other Birds in hearing.

The next Degree of Dignity is claimed
by the Aluco, of which there are two
Branches, the greater and the lefs; the
greater has this peculiar Property, that,
when the Reft of the Birds move their
lower Eye-lids, and by that only clofe
their Eyes, this can move the upper Ones,
and wink and manage his Eye-lids as he
pleafes; inſomuch that ſome are of Opi-
nion he can fee even in his Sleep, ſince
then

34 The PRAISE of OWLS.

then his Eyes are not quite fhut. Confider
now how wonderful this is reckoned in
thofe Men whom the Grecians call Κοευ-
βαντεΐς; and in Lions and Hares who
sleep either with their Eyes open, or half
fhut, as the moft curious Searchers into
Nature informs us*. What ſhall I ſay
concerning the Noctambulos, or thofe Men
who walk in their Sleep, whose Eyes are
open, or however they wink but little,
and go about their Buſineſs as they uſed to
do in the Day-Time, and perform ſuch
Exploits which they neither can nor dare
do when they are awake ? †Ariſtotle ſeems
then to have given us an imperfect De-
ſinition of Sleep when he ſtiles it a na-
tural Ceffation of all outward Senſes, appointed
for the Reſt and Welfare of Animals: For the
Sight which is an external Senſe does not
ceafe in OWLS, and thofe who walk in
their Sleep, neither has Reſt always a
Place in theſe latter; for they often rife
from their Beds, put on their Cloaths, open
the Doors, take their Weapons, and if
they be on board a Ship run up the Maſt,
&c. But what is wonderful; if you call
them by their Chriſtian-Names they will
immediately defcend, let them have climb-
ed never so high. || Lemnius attributes this

* Vid. Plin. Lib. II. cap. 32.

† Lib. de Somn. cap. 33.

|| De Occult. Nat. Mir.

to

The PRAISE of OWLS.

35

to the Efficacy of their Baptism, but I ra-
ther think it proceeds from their being so
continually uſed to hear it; but theſe
Things by the Way. Farther, the Natu-
raliſts tell us concerning this Aluco Major,
that, though he is by no Means remarkable
for any eminent Ears, yet Nature has given
him in their Place a Crown compoſed of Fea-
thers, which yet does not ſurround the upper
Part of his Head: For that is too often
imitated by the Vulgar at their Nuptial Feaſts;
but goes round all his Face in that elegant
Form and Poſition which I am going to de-
fcribe. He has beautiful little Plumes con-
spicuous above his Eyes, elevated after the
Manner of noble Eye-brows, and they
ſpread themſelves over his Temples, and
descending under his Chin they twine into
the Figure of a Woman's Hood. This
Feather-Crown by a wonderful Contrivance
of Nature ſo covers and ſurrounds the Eyes
and Bill, that no Wind, nor Rain, nor
Snow can hurt them. Thus he receives
greater Benefit from this Crown of Fea-
thers, than the moſt potent Monarch ever
could from his Diadem of State, adorn'd
with the richeſt Jewels; and could our
Bird gain ſuch a one, it would be of no
more Service to him, than the Diamond
was to Æſop's Cock we read of in the Fa-
ble. As for the leſſer Aluco one Thing
in him is very remarkable, and a Sign
of

36 The PRAISE of OWLS.

of the Noblenefs of his Temper, that he
is so great a Lover of Cleanlinefs that be-
fore he eats he firft pulls off all the Fea-
thers from his Prey, and makes it very
clean; which is ftill more wonderful when
we confider he has so large a Gullet, that
he can very easily fswallow Morfels bigger
than an Egg. Certainly, if thofe Glut-
tons and greedy Bellies of whom *Ælian
has given us a Catalogue had had so large
a Gullet, they would never have taken
half the Pains to have made their Victuals
ready as this Bird does.

There remains now the *Nycticorax*, which
fome call the *Night-Raven*; but it does
not properly belong to that Clan, but to
the Lineage of the OWLS, and differs from
the common Sort in that it is fomewhat
bigger, and has a fmall Reſemblanee of the
*Raven*. Now, theſe we have been menti-
oning are the principal Sort of OWLS: As
for the Reſt of the promiſcuous Croud,
their is but very little Difference among
them and the Conſtitution of their Bodies
is much the fame. But then, as the Man-
ner is when any one has riſen to the high-
eſt Honour and Dignity, or being nobly
born excells others, it is ufual for ſome

* Lib. 1. Var. Hift. cap. 27.

bold

The PRAISE of OWLS. 37

bold Person to break in upon that Family,
and ascribe to himself the Name and Ho-
nour belonging to it: So, many who by
no means do belong to the OWL usurp his
Name and Family; and though we may
permit some Men to please themselves by
taking the Name of the OWL, *because,
perhaps, they may also deferve a Share of
the PRAISE which belongs to HIM: Yet
surely none of the Birds or Insects may be
permitted to Share in this Honour: It is
therefore your Part, O Patrons of OWLS,
to defend the NAME from being frauden-
ly invaded, that so the Publick may not
be damaged: For how great is the Rout
of Birds and Insects which aspire to this
Excellence? To begin with the least con-
fiderable; There are a Sort of little Ani-
mals, such as Palmer-Worms, Flies, &c.
which buzzing round a Candle in the
Night-Time, burn their Wings and haften
their own Death; these Insects, I fay,
pretend to some Affinity with our OWL:
But unless your Eyes are very dim, you
may easily perceive the vaft Difference
that there is between them; and I can
scarcely forgive my self for mentioning theſe
filly Pretenfions.

Viz. Uylij, Ulencampij, Ulenburgij, et Ulenbroekij,
&c.

E

Neither

38 The PRAISE of OWLS.

Neither will you in your Wisdom ad-
mit thofe Night-Birds which are vulgarly
called Screech-OWLS, for thefe are unluck-
ily clamorous, bold, cruel, and what is
ftill worfe, very troublesome and danger-
ous to Women lately delivered : *Ovid
has given us a juft Description of them ;

Sunt avidæ volucres, non quæ Phinæia menſis,
Guttura frandabant, fed genus inde trahunt.
Grande caput, ſtantes oculi, roſtra apta rapinæ,
Canities pennis, unguibus hamus ineſt.
Nocte volant, pueroſque petunt nutricis egentes,
Et vitiant cunis corpora capta ſuis.

These greedy Birds fly ſcrieking thro' the Skies,
Large are their Heads, and fix'd their cruel Eyes;
Their ſharpen'd Beaks for Slaughter are prepar'd
To rush on Infants found without a Guard:
Then unrelenting seize the tender Prey
O'er the sweet Babes their nauseous Wings display
And with their Blood they make the Cradle gay.

And †Pliny informs us, that Homer has
named and defcribed them. || Lucan alſo
takes Notice of them ;

Quid trepidus Bubo, quid Strix Nocturna
Queruntur.

* Lib. 6. Faſt.

† Lib. 10. cap. 40.

|| Pharsalia Lib. 6.

And

The PRAISE of OWLS. 39

And *Horace tells us, that Canidia the Sor-
cerefs made Ufe of the Screech-OWL's Fea-
thers in her Enchantments. And in the
prophetical Writings they are often de-
fcribed in all their natural Fiercenefs. To
give one Instance out of the Prophet
Isaiah may suffice: (Chap. xxxiv. v. 14.)
The wild Beasts of the Desert shall also meet
with the wild Beasts of the Island, and
the Satyr shall cry to his Fellow, the Screech-
OWL also shall reft there, and find for her
self a Place of Rest. Now these pernicious
Birds are likened not only to Witches,
but Dæmons, and they have the fame
Name both among the Hebrews and the
Latinst: Hence the Ancients were always
of Opinion, that their Prefence was dif-
mal and ominous, which is the Reason
why the Jews write upon the four Walls
of the Chamber where a Woman lies in
Childbed, the four following Words in
Hebrew Characters ADAM, EVA, FORAS,
STRIX. The celebrated || Buxtorff gives
us the History of this Matter at large;
When (fays he) a Jewish Woman is pregnant,
and the Chamber is made ready for her de-
cent Reception, and all Things necessary are

* Ode 5.

† Vide Schindler in Lex. Pent. Gl.

|| Cap. 2. Synag. Jud. pag. 74.

E 2

pro-

40 The PRAISE of OWLS.

Then comes the Master of the
Family, or some other Jew eminent for his
Sanctity and unspotted Conversation, (if such
a one can possibly be had under the Cope of
Heaven,) and taking a Piece of Chalk he
draws a Circle on all the Walls, and also upon
the Door on both Sides, and near the Bed
he writes these Words in Hebrew Cha-
racters ADAM, CHAWA, CHUTZ,
LILIS, i. e. Adam, eva apage te Lilis.

Now, here I cannot but Wonder that
the sagacious *Pliny* should be seized with
so great a Fit of Infidelity, as to doubt
whether these Birds we have been speaking of ever had any Existence; for in this
he goes against the Testimony of all Writers both sacred and prophane; and indeed if there are no such Birds, Why do
we now mispend our Time in rejecting
them from the genuine Family of the
OWLS? Perhaps Pliny might think on
what † Ramus wrote in his *Logick* so many
Ages after, (though I fancy he was too
positive and rash in it :) *Testimonies and
Authorities are but small Proof when the
Truth of any Nice, and curious Proposition
is to be enquired into.* If this be true we
can depend on no History : Tho' I doubt

* Lib. 10. cap. 50.

† Lib. I. Dialect. cap. 32.

not

The PRAISE of OWLS. 41
not (Conscript Fathers,) but you will rea-
dily affent to so many and great Authors,
unlefs after the Manner of the Scepticks
you will be so very doubtful, as to call in
Question not only the Existence of this
particular Bird we are discoursing of, but
also of the whole Tribe of OWLS; which
Pallas forbid !

Another Night-Bird whom we must ex-
clude from our honourable Society, is cal-
led by the Latins Bubo, and is, by some
lefs discerning Persons, reckoned to belong
to the Clan of OWLS, and so called
accordingly : He seems to have derived
his Name from the Syriac Word Bobo, he
being reckoned an Enemy to Mankind,
though others will have him called so from
his mimicking the Lowing of an Ox; but,
however that be, the Poet* tells us,

In-feftus Bubo eſt dirum Mortalibus omen.

And another to the fame Purpofe,

Bubulat horrendum ferali carmine Bubo
Humàno Generi trifia Fata ferens.

†Pliny gives us a dreadful Description of
him. This Night-Bird, (Bubo) fays he,

* Ovid *Metam. Lib.* 8.

† Lib. 10. cap. 12.

E 3

is

42 The PRAISE of OWLS.

is a very dismal Creature, and the Bane of
all pleasant Fortune. This Monster of the
Night has nothing of a vocal Note but only
groans; and therefore when he appears in
Cities, or indeed any where else in the Day-
Time, he is a very strange and direful Specta-
cle. And a little after the fame Author says,
He entered into a small Apartment under the
Capitol when Papellius Iftrus and Lucius
Pedanius were Confuls, for which Reason the
City soon after received a Lustration: But
why do I mention Heathen-Rome? I shall
entertain you with something of this Na-
ture very remarkable, and which happened
in Holy-Rome; for there this direful Bird,
we are speaking of, disturbed the Synod
which was held there, under Pope John
the Thirteenth, in the Year of our Lord
1411. Let us attend to an * Hiftorian
who lived at that Time, giving us this
terrible Account of it. The Pope for above
four Years had been importuned to call a
Council at Rome; and when all who were
to be present thereat were convened, Mass
was celebrated in the usual Manner, and the
Holy Spirit invoked to be present with
them and aid their Confulations, and Pope
John fated on high in his Pontifical Chair,
when lo! a very fierce and dreadful OWL,

* Nicolaum de Cl. mengis.

(for

The PRAISE of OWLS. 43

(for our Author is pleased to compliment
that Bird with this Name) breaking forth
from his lurking Corner flew about making
a dreadful Noise; at length he fixed on a
Beam in the Middle of the Church, and kept
his Eyes fixed fast on the Pope; all who were
present began to wonder, that a Night Bird
should presume to venture into so numerous
an Assembly, and reckoned it very ominous,
while some more subtle than the Rest whist-
pered one to the other. See the Spirit ap-
pears in the Shape of a Bird! others could
scarce refrain from laughing out. Pope John
himself on whom the Owl had fixed his Eyes
was very much surprized and mightily put
to the Blush; and not knowing well what to
do he rose up and put an End to the Council.
There followed sometime after a second Sef-
sion in which this unluckily Bird (who I
fuppofe had no Invitation) came again, and
after the same Manner fixed his Eyes on
the Pope, who, seeing him return again was
more confounded than at first, and being no
longer able to endure him, commanded that
they should drive him away with Shouting,
and also by throwing Sticks at him: Tet nei-
ther would this rough Treatment drive him
from the Place. I have told you (Fathers)
this Story that you may perceive the Im-
pudence of the Night-Bird (called Bubo,)
who had no respect for so venerable and
facred a Synod: And besides, he used to
drink

S.

Bane of
the Day,
but only
ears in
the
Spescha-
or fays,
der the
Lucius
fson the
: But
I shall
his Na-
ppened
ul Bird,
Synod
the John
r Lord
ftorian
us this
above
call a
bo were
, Mafs
and the
it with
Pope
Chair,
OWL,

(for

44 The PRAISE of OWLS.

drink up the Holy-Oil which he found in
the Temple-Lamps, so that he is profane
and sacrilegous as well as impudent. Let
then these Furies (so we may rather call
them than Birds) pack away to Libya, and
the Indies, where the Natives worship the
Devil*, they are fitter for that Place than
to be admitted into our famous College of
OWLS; with whom they have no Man-
ner of Affinity, except that like them they
usually fly abroad in the Night-Season;
and if that were a sufficient Title the
Bat might also be numbered among the
Lineage of OWLS: For he appears
only in the Dusk of the Evening, tho' he
is so far from having any Title to this
Honour, that it is disputed whether he be
indeed a Bird or a Mouse. †Aristotle the
Prince of Philosophers numbers him among
the Birds, when he says, There are some
Birds that fly with Wings as the Eagle and
Hawk, some with a dry Membrane as Bees
and Hornets, and others with a Skin as
the Bat. However, we shall leave these
trifling Speculations, and proceed to more
important Enquiries: As for the bodily
Constitution of the OWL, (or if you had
rather his Disposition) his Temperature is
so aptly disposed and composed of radical

* Lerius *Hift*. Navig. in Brasil. cap. 16.

† H. A. cap. 5.

Heat

The PRAISE of OWLS. 45

Heat and Moisture, and even all the four
Humours so harmonioufly fixed, and so
full of vital Spirits that he may live a
great many Years unlefs some sudden Ac-
cident or Diftemper carries him off; tho'
indeed it matters not how long a Person
lives, but how well: And a calamitous
old Age is to be dreaded: Agreeable to
the Expression of Cato Major* We all defire
to arrive at old Age, but complain of it
when it is comes. Farther, our OWL has
no Occafion with the Bird in Æsop to deck
himfelf out with borrowed Plumes, his
own are sufficient and ornamental enough;
and though his Body is but finall, yet he
excells in the Largeneſs of his Wings,
which are not only the Inſtruments with
which he Flies, but they alſo ſerve to
keep off the Cold in Winter, while he
contracts himſelf like the Hedgehog, or
like the Tortoife hides himſelf in his Fea-
thery-Shell. The Plumes of our Bird are
not only of Uſe, but exceedingly beauti-
ful, and ſtained with a Variety of Co-
lours; so that (Conſcript Fathers) we
may ſing of this Bird as Catullus does of
his Lesbia,

* Cicero de Senect.

Noctua

46 The PRAISE of OWLS.

(eſt,
Noctua formoſa eſt, que cum pulcerrima tota
Tum omnibus una omnes ſurripuit veneres.

But this I muſt ingenuouſly confefs would
be but a ſmall Commendation, unleſs he
was alſo endowed with excellent Qualities
of Mind; that is, with Wit and Vertue,
in which, as Cicero obſerves, true Beauty
does confiſt; and in theſe Reſpects the
OWL excells all other Birds.

As for Wit and Sagaciiy (even to the ut-
moſt that can be expected in a Bird) he
ſufficiently ſhows them in his Actions;
and we read in an ancient Fable, that the
OWL gave the Birds wholeſome Counſel
to pull up the Flax while it was yet ſprouting
and tender, left afterwards it ſhould come to
Maturity, and furnish Men with Materials
for Snares: But they deſpiling his Counſel,
he forſook their Company, and choſe to
come abroad in the ſilent Night. The Reſt
of the Birds being wife to late, as often as
they ſaw the OWL would fly round him
in great Numbers, expecting to receive
from him more wife Directions how to
avoid the crafty Snares of Men. More-
over, *Pliny tells us, that this Bird is a
very great Mimick, and will imitate whatſo-

* Lib. 10. cap. 23.

ever

The PRAISE of OWLS. 47
ever he sees Men do, which certainly is a
Sign of great Wit; so that as the Ape a-
mong four-footed Beasts is the greatest Imi-
tater of Man; so among Birds the Owl ap-
proaches nearest to human Nature. But,
as Boetius very well observes, The greatest
Understandings are not always joined with the
best Fortune; so it happens, that this our
most ingenious Bird does not always meet
with Prosperity and Success; for this very
Subtilty of his, which we have now been
discouraging of, is often the Cause of his
Ruin: For the Naturalifts observe, that
the Fowlers take occasion from this their
tractable Disposition to circumvent and
enfure them.

Now, the Fowler's Method of taking
the OWL is this, He goes towards him
with a flow Pace, and standing over againft
him he rubs his Eyes with a glutinous Oint-
ment, which afterwards he leaves on the
Ground, and goes away for a Time: In
the mean While our Bird thinking no
Harm, comes and acts as the Fowler did
before him; but by anointing his Eyes
they are so glewed together that he cannot
see, and then the Fowler runs and takes
him. This I must confess is an Indiscre-
tion, though nothing but what is even in-
cident to human Nature, for

Ingenio

48 The PRAISE of OWLS.

*Ingenio perit Nafo Poeta suo.*

Ovid, if he had had lefs Wit in his own
Country, had never been so miserable in
Pontus; and how many are there who in
Imitation of others suffer their Eyes to be
closed up, and destroy themselves with the
Poison of mortal Vices: For Men think
they may act safely when they have Ex-
amples before them. But our Bird gives
yet greater and more happy Specimens of
his Wit, while (as it is reported) he con-
ducts the Quails and other Birds crofs the
Sea*. Consider now, of what a vaft Ad-
vantage it is then to him that he can see
in the Night, and how great is the Profit
which accrues from hence to the other
Birds; for it is very dangerous to be guid-
ed by one whose Sight is imperfect in the
Night-Time: Now he gains a double Re-
putation by this Means. And first, hereby
he shows a great Dexterity of Mind, and
an admirable Penetration, in that he is not
only a Companion to these Birds, but is
also their Leader, flying before and con-
ducting them over the Ocean; from whence
the Name Avis peculiarly belongs to our
Bird; the Rest are called Aves because

* Vid. Plin. Lib. 10. cap. 14. & alios.

they

The PRAISE of OWLS.

they deviate (à via) and rove with uncertain Excursions through the Air: Now, according to the Opinion of a very wise Man, the Way of a Bird, the Way of a Ship, the Way of a Serpent, and the Way of a young Man cannot be traced. Now our Bird not only takes this long Journey we have been speaking of, but also quickly returns back again and takes up his Habitation among us, and may frequently be seen in Winter. Moreover, how great is this Bird's Humanity (I hope the Reader will pardon the Impropriety of the Expression) in undergoing so much Labour and Trouble for the Sake of others, as to fly so many thousand Miles, Day and Night, and hazard his Life and Fortune for the Interest of other Birds, whilst he readily points out to them the Way without Weariness. Behold (Fathers) how a great Genius may sometimes lie obscure! Who among you could have imagined that an OWL had so much Wit? For as every Man is not born with a silver Spoon in his Mouth, so it is not for every Bird to fly over the Ocean, so large and tempestuous. Now how beneficent a Thing it is to lead Strangers in the right Way, may be made evident by a thousand Confiderations. *Tobias

* Tob. xii. 1, 2, 3.

F

we

50 The PRAISE of OWLS.

we find was ready very liberally to re-
ward the Angel who had conducted him;
and Ennius says,

Homo qui erranti Comiter monstrat viam,
Quasi Lumen de suo Lumine accendat, facit.

It is farther a great Argument of a care-
ful Mind, that when the Wind begins to
blow pretty strong against him, he takes
up some little Stones that thereby he may
fly more steady, and the Wind may not
have so great an Influence over him*. Some
Authors attribute this fame Contrivance to
the Cranes, left they should be incommod-
ed when they are asleep. This Instance
shows that our Bird is not only wife for
others, but also for himself.

Another wonderful Instance of our Bird's
*Sagacity* appears, in his being able to preface
a future Tempeſt†: And it is a common
Observation, that if he leaves the Woods
it betokens an unfruitful Year; if he
leaves the Caverns, and betakes himself to
other unusual Mansions, it betokens Death
to the Inhabitants of that Country; and
he frequently flies by the Windows of
those Chambers where the sick Man lies
a dying. Now, surely it is a great Proof

* Plin. Lib. 10. cap. 23.

† Plin. Lib. 18. cap. 35.

of

The PRAISE of OWLS. 51

of Wisdom, not only to see what is pre-
sent, but also to foresee future Things :
And you would wonder if I should inform
you, that the OWL is a Sort of a Prophet.
Now, from whence can we suppose this
Preface to arise ? It is most absurd to
imagine that it arises from any extraordi-
nary Revelation which some Enthusiasts
pretend to; but in my Opinion rather
proceeds from a natural Intuition with
which he is endowed, and by which he
is able to smell out dead Carcases that
are at a distance : But, perhaps you
will say, sick Persons are surely not dead
Corps, how is it then that he attends their
Chambers ? It is true they are not actual-
ly such; but yet we must observe, that
the nearer Approaches any Body makes to
Death, the nearer at the same Time it is
to Corruption; and so Persons just about
to die infect the Air with a cadaverous
Smell, which the OWL (without a Nose)
can distinguish at a distance from a
found Evaporation. And cannot you your
felves (conscript Fathers) smell the Rain
which is extracted from sulphurous Pla-
ces, and condensed into a Cloud many
Miles off, unless you have a great Cold
upon you. And if (as we every Day see)
Hounds have so exquisite a Nose, and there-
fore are much esteemed : Our Bird may
claim a greater Share of Praise for his nice

F 2

Smelling :

52 The PRAISE of OWLS.

Smelling: Nor will it, I hope, be any
Reflection upon the Noblenefs of his Na-
ture, that he is so much delighted with
dead Carcaffes, for this is a Fault in com-
mon both with him and you: For are not
all of you exceedingly pleafed with di-
verse Kinds of dead Bodies? For what
elfe (a few Herbs and Fruits excepted)
do all Mankind feed upon? Do they
not feaft upon almoft all Sorts of Beafts,
Birds, and Fishes after they are dead, for
few will eat them alive? Thus the Flefh
of dead Creatures is rent by the Teeth of
Men, and their Entrails buried in human
Bowels, contrary to the Cuffom of the
golden Age, and the Inſtitution of the
celebrated *Pythagoras*. In this Practice,
therefore, we all agree with the OWLS,
only they eat them raw, and we boiled
or roaſted; for it would be too chargeable
and troublousome for them to keep a Cook;
but according to their Sagacity they find
out dead Bodies and eat them, which we
ſee is alſo practifed by Mankind. But
Wit without Vertue signifies little; for as
Cicero obſerves, True Glory arifes from
Vertue only: We therefore proceed to dif-
play the Vertues of our Bird, which indeed
are ſo many that I ſcarce know where

* Ovid. *Metam.* Lib. 15.

to

The PRAISE of OWLS.

53

to begin, or where to end. I hope the
Divines will pardon me if I begin with
that which is most excellent, I mean Reli-
gion, which regards sacred Things, and is
opposed to Superstition. This indeed our
Bird is far from; yet surely he has a con-
fiderable Notion of Religion in that he
loves and frequents Temples and sacred
Places, and often dwells in them, and
there destroys the Mice, which might other-
wife enter the Holy Repository and devour
the confecrated Hoſt; by which Action he
does more Service to the Church than all
the whole Herd of Fryers and Monaſlicks
with their fubtle Diſputations: And thus
compoſes Strife to the Satisfaction of all
Parties. Now, left any ſhould think
this ſtrange, I defire he would ſeriously
confider theſe following weighty and great
Diſcuffions.*

(1.) How, and in what Place the con-
fecrated Hoſt may safely be laid that it
may not be devoured by the Mice ?

(2.) Whether the *Mouſe* which has eaten
the *Hoſt* may truly be faid to have eaten
the *Body of Chriſt*.

* Vide Decifiones aureas Caſuum circa miſſam Jo-
bannis de Lapide. Thelg. Parifitis cap. 7. Tnomam
de Eucharift. Queſt. 79. Art. 3. ſohan. de Burg de
Cuffodia Euchar. cap. 10. Alexand. Halenſ. Part 4.
Queſt. 4.

F 3

(3.) What

54. The PRAISE of OWLS.

(3.) What is to be done with such a
*Mouſe? Whether he ought to have his
Bowels rent out for this Sacrilege, or be
burnt with the Hereticks?

(4.) Whether that Hoſt or Particle of the
Hoſt which is in the Mouſe be a proper
Object of Adoration ?

(5.) Whether such a *Mouſe* be indeed
holier or more profane than other *Mice*?

Now so long as our religious Bird thus
fiercely perfecutes the Mice, there is no
Occafion for such Canons as theſe: *Who-
foever ſhall not look after the Sacrament,
and the Mouſe by his Negligence ſhall eat it,
that Person ſhall do Penance forty Days,
&c. And again, in the penitential Canons
we find an Order to the fame Effect; and
elſewhere, but it would be tedious to
transcribe them all: And beſides, the
Claws of the OWL are much ſharper, and
tend more to the Extirpation of the Mice
than all theſe Canons. Go on, therefore,
thou vertuous Bird, to wage a laſting War
with thofe pernicious Creatures the Mice,
and thereby make Peace among the Prieſts
who celebrate Mafs, and clear the Tem-
bles from facrilegious Invaſion. Thus pro-
ceed by a Kind of Holy War to root out

* De Conſecrat. Dift. 3. cap. 94. item in Miſſal. Eccleſ. Rom.

the

The PRAISE of OWLS. 55

the Generation of Mice. Certainly thou
haft more Religion than thofe who ne-
ver enter into a Church all their Life-
Time to perform any Acts of Worlship, or
receive any Inſtruction, but after Death
are conveyed thither with great Pomp and
Solemnity. You cannot (worthy Fathers)
be much ſurprized to hear the OWL has
fome Religion; ſince *Pliny attributes it
even to the Hens, who, (ſays he) tremble
after they have laid an Egg and ſhake
themſelves. Now if a Fear and Horror
may be reckoned religious, how much
more may the Frequenting of ſacred Tem-
ples where Religion is taught? And as
all Virtues have a certain common Bond,
and have a mutual Relation one to the
other; ſo allowing our Bird to have Reli-
gion, other Vertues will naturally follow.
And firſt, as to Fortitude, which is reckon-
ed by the Ancients to belong to the mo-
ral Vertues, our Bird poſſeſſes it in ſuch
an eminent Degree, that he always goes
forth intrepid to meet his Enemies; for
he has an Enemy with whom he engages
with a very ſtrong and heroick Aſſault,
for his Courage does not exert it ſelf in a
foolſh and furious Manner; he is not
like the Andabatians who encountréd with

* Lib. 10. cap. 41. Gallinis & Religio ineſt. Inhorre-
ſcunt enim, &c.

the

56 The PRAISE of OWLS.

the South-Wind*; nor with Xerxes does
he pretend to restrain the boisterous Waves
of the Sea†; but the Raven is his mortal
Enemy with whom he wages perpetual
War. And this Enmity is hereditary, so
that there is no Room to doubt of the
OWL's Fortitude. Methinks, I see, (O
ye noble Patrons of this Bird) how strenu-
oufly he exerts himself in his Conflict with
the Raven; and tho' he has no Trumpet
to rouze his Spirits, he couragiously at-
tacks his Adversary with his Beak and
Claws. Indeed these Enemies are unequal-
ly matched, which you will soon perceive,
if you consider the respective Strength of
each Bird; for the Raven appears much
Superior to the OWL: The Ravens are an
evil, unjuft, and noisy Clan, who live by
Rapine, and are continually bent on Spoil
and Cruelty, and so are daily accustomed
to rending and tearing; and this Quality
they brought with them out of the Egg,
and therefore we are not to wonder that
it is so predominant; for Mali Corvi Ma-
lum Ovum, was a true Proverb. Again,
their very Colour demonstrates their Na-
ture.

* Herodotus. Lib. 4.

† Plutarch *de Ira cehib*.

— Hic

The PRAISE of OWLS.

57

—Hic *Niger* eſt hunc *Tu Romane Caveto*.

For which Reafon *Pliny* ranks them among
the Birds of ill Omen. And tho' it be
an old Saying, *That it is better to fall
among Ravens than Flatterers, yet this
tends more to the Difhonour of *Flatterers*
than the Praife of *Ravens*: But all the
Lineage of OWLS are quiet, harmleſs,
and modeſt, and therefore our *Bird* comes
with a vaſt Difadvantage to encounter ſo
formidable and evil an Adverſary, whom
he knows how to ſubdue rather by Mag-
nanimity and a peculiar Stratagem, than
any Strength of Body.

*Dolus an virtus quis in Hofte Requirat ?*

Now, here I know it would be taken
very ill if I ſhould ſay, That the *Owl* is
more valiant than many Men, who often
ſuffer themſelves to be overcome by their
Inferiors: But were not the *Pygmies* who
(degenerating from human Gravity, and
forgetting their own Dignity) waged War
with the *Cranes*, overthrown and put to
the Rout? I muſt confefs the *Cranes* had
not to deal with tall and veteran Troops;
neither have the OWLS ever engaged
with the *Pygmies*; if they had, they muſt
have overcome them, unleſs you will ſup-
poſe

does
Waves
nortal
petual
ry, ſo
of the
ee, (O
ſtrenu-
t with
pumpet
ly at-
ck and
equal-
receive,
gth of
much
are an
ive by
n Spoil
ſtomed
Quality
e Egg,
er that
vi Ma-
Again,
er Na-

—Hic

58 The PRAISE of OWLS.

pofe their Strength inferior to that of the
Cranes. However, this every one muft con-
fefs, that our Bird with a magnanimous
and constant Mind is not afraid to engage
with a fiercer Adverfary,

Fortiaque adverfis opponit Pectora rebus.

For he is very fenfible that many Perſons
have been rendered illuſtrious by contend-
ing with more potent Adverſaries, who
would otherwife have remained in Obſcu-
rity: Agreeable to which, Seneca, the
Prince of the Stoick-Philofophers, has this
remarkable Paſſage*: The Gladiator rec-
kons it a Difgrace to be joined to an infe-
rior Swordſman; for the Glory of the Con-
gueſt is then taken away, when the Viſtory is
obtained without Danger. Tho' a little after
our Author forgets himſelf, and does not
ſpeak like a Stoick: To contend (ſays he)
with an Equal is doubtful, with an Inferior
is ſordid, and with a Superior is desper-
ate; but with the good Leave of you,
and the Philofophers, I ſay, 'tis glorious.
Never did the Valour of the Romans ſhine
brighter, than when they were engaged in
many fierce Wars with the moſt formid-
able Nations. And the Belgians gained

* De Providentia. cap. 3.

an