your best hautboys encounter a wolf nowa-days with no other arms but their instruments, as did that ancient piper Pithocaris? Have ever wild boars, elephants, deers, dolphins, whales, or turbots, shewed the least emotion at the most elaborate strains of your modern scrapers; all which have been, as it were, tamed and humanized by ancient musicians? Does not Ælian tell us how the Lybian mares were excited to horsing by music? (which ought in truth to be a caution to modest women against frequenting operas; and consider, brother, you are brought to this dilemma, either to give up the virtue of the ladies, or the power of your music). Whence proceeds the degeneracy of our morals? Is it not from the loss of an ancient music, by which (says Aristotle) they taught all the virtues? else might we turn Newgate into a college of Dorian musicians, who should teach moral virtues to those people. Whence comes it that our present diseases are so stubborn? whence is it that I daily deplore my sciatical pains? Alas! because we have lost their true cure, by the melody of the pipe. All this was well known to the ancients, as Theophrastus assures us (whence Cælius calls it loca dolentia decentare), only indeed some smail remains of this skill are preserved in the cure of the tarantula. Did not Pythagoras stop a company of drunken bullies from storming a civil house, by changing the strain of the pipe to the sober spondæus? and yet your modern musicians want art to defend their windows from common nickers. It is well known, that when the Lacedæmoan mob were up, they commonly sent for a Lesbian musician to appease them, and they immediately grew calm as soon as they heard Terpander sing: yet I don't believe that the pope's whole band of music, though the best of this age, could keep his holiness's image from being burnt on the fifth of November." "Nor would Terpander himself (replied Albertus) at Billingsgate, nor Timotheus at Hockley-in-the-Hole, have any manner of effect: nor both of them together bring Horneck to common civility. "That's a gross mistake, (said Cornelius, very warmly);" and, to prove it so, I have here a small lyra of my own, framed, strung, and tuned, after the ancient manner. I can play some fragments of Lesbian tunes, and I wish I were to try them upon the most "You passionate creatures alive."never had a better opportunity (says Albertus), for yonder are two apple-women scolding, and just ready to uncoif one another." With that Cornelius, undressed as he was, jumps out into his balcony, his lyra in hand, in his slippers, with his breeches hanging down to his ancles, a stocking upon his head, and waistcoat of murrey-coloured satin upon his body; He touched his lyra with a very unusual sort of an harpegiatura, nor were his hopes frustrated. The odd equipage, the uncouth instrument, the strangeness of the man, and of the music, drew the ears aneyes of the whole mob that were got about the two female champions, and at last of the combatants themselves. They all approached the balcony, in as close attention as Orpheus's first audience of cattle, or that of an Italian opera, when some favourite air is just awakened. This sudden effect of his music encouraged him mightily; and it was observed he never touched his lyra in such a truly chromatic and enharmonic manner, as upon that occasion. The mob laughed, sung, jumped, danced, and used many odd gestures; all which he judged to be caused by the various strains and modulations. "Mark (quoth he), in this, the power of the Ionian; in that you see the effect of the Eolian." But in a little time they began to grow riotous, and threw stones: Cornelius then withdrew, but with the greatest air of triumph in the world. "Brother, (said he) do you observe I have mixed, unawares, too much of the Phrygian; I might change it to the Lydian, and soften their riotous tempers: but it is enough: learn from this sample to speak with veneration of ancient music. If this lyra in my unskilful hands can perform such wonders, what must it not have done in those of a Timotheus or a Terpander?" Having said this, he retired with the utmost exultation in himself, and contempt of his brother; and, it is said,, behaved that night with such unusual haughtiness to his family, that they had all reason to wish for some ancient Tibicen to calm his temper. LOGIC. Martin's understanding was so totally immersed in sensible objects, that he te manded examples from material things, of the abstracted ideas of logic; as for Crambe, he contented himself with the words: and when he could but form some conceit upon them, was fully satisfied. Thus Crambe would tell his instructor, that all men were not singular; that individuality could hardly be predicated of any man, for it was commonly said, that a man is not the same he was; that madmen ere beside themselves, and drunken men come to themselves; which shews, that few men have that most valuable logical endowment, individuality. Cornelius told Martin, that a shoulder of mutton was an individual, which Crambe denied, for he had seen it cut into commons. That's true (quoth the tutor), but you never saw it cut into shoulders of mutton: If it could, (quoth Crambe) it would be the most lovely individual of the university. When he was told, a substance was that which was subject to accidents; Then soldiers, (quoth Crambe) are the most substantial people in the world. Neither would he allow it to be a good definition of accident, that it could be present or absent without the destruction of the subject; since there are a great many accidents that destroy the subject, as burning does a house, and death a man. But, as to that, Cornelius informed him, that there was a natural death, and a logical death; that though a man, after his natural death, was not capable of the least parish-office, yet he might still keep his stall amongst the logical predicaments. Cornelius was forced to give Martin sensible images: Thus, calling up the coachman, he asked him what he had seen in the bear-garden? The man answered, he saw two men fight a prize: one was a fair man, a serjeant in the guards; the other black, a butcher: the serjeant had red breeches, the butcher blue: they fought upon a stage about four o'clock, and the serjeant wounded the butcher in the leg." Mark, (quoth Cornelius), how the fellow runs through the predicaments. Men, substantia; two, quantitas; fair and black, qualitas; serjeant and butcher, relatio; wounded the other, actio et passio; fighting, situs; stage, ubi; two o'clock, quando; blue and red breeches, habitus." At the same time he warned Martin, that what he now learned as a logician, he must forget as a natural philosopher; that though he now taught them that accidents inhered in the subject, they would find in time there was no such thing; and that colour, taste, smell, heat, and cold, were not in the things, but only phantasms of our brains. He was forced to let them into this secret, for Martin could not conceive how a habit of dancing inhered in a dancing-master, when he did not dance; nay, he would demand the characteristics of relations. Crambe used to help him out by telling him, a cuckold, a losing gamester, a man that had not denied, a young heir that was kept short by his father, might be all known by their countenance; that, in this last case, the paternity and filiation leave very sensible impressions in the relatum and correlatum, The greatest difficulty was when they came to the tenth predicament; Crambe affirmed that his habitas was more a substance than he was; for his clothes could better subsist without him, than he without his clothes. The Seat of the Soul. In this design of Martin to investigate the diseases of the mind, he thought nothing so necessary as an inquiry after the seat of the soul; in which, at first, he laboured under great uncertainties. Sometimes he was of opinion that it lodged in the brain, sometimes in the stomach, and sometimes in the heart. Afterwards he thought it absurd to confine that sovereign lady to one apartment; which made him infer, that she shifted it according to the several functions of life: the brain was her study, the heart her state-room, and the stomach her kitchen. But, as he saw, several offices of life went on at the same time, he was forced to give up this hypothesis also. He now conjectured it was more for the dignity of the soul to perform several operations by her little ministers, the animal spirits; from whence it was natural to conclude, that she resides in different parts, according to different inclinations, sexes, ages, and professions. Thus, in epicures he seated her in the mouth of the stomach: philosophers have her in the brain, soldiers in their heart, women in their tongues, fiddlers in their fingers, and rope-dancers in their toes. At length he grew fond of the glandula pinealis, dissecting many subjects to find out the different figure of this gland, from whence he might discover the cause of the different tempers in mankind. He supported that in factious and restless-spirited people, he should find it sharp and pointed, allowing no room for the soul to repose herself; that in quiet tempers it was flat, smooth, and soft, affording to the soul, as it were, an easy cushion. He was confirmed in this by observing, that calves and philosophers, tigers and statesmen, foxes and sharpers, peacocks and fops, cock-sparrows and coquettes, monkeys and players, courtiers and spaniels, moles and misers, exactly resemble one another in the conformation of the pineal gland. He did not doubt likewise to find the same resemblance in highwaymen and conquerors: In order to satisfy himself in which, it was, that he purchased the body of one of the first species (as hath been before related) at Tyburn, hoping in time to have the happiness of one of the latter too under his anatomical knife. The Soul, a Quality. This is easily answered by a familiar instance. In every jack there is a meatroasting quality, which neither resides in the fly, nor in the weight, nor in any particular wheel in the jack, but is the result of the whole composition: so, in an animal, the self-consciousness is not a real quality inherent in one being (any more than meat roasting in a jack) but the result of several modes or qualities in the same subject. As the fly, the wheels, the chain, the weight, the chords, &c. make one jack, so the several parts of the body make one animal. As perception or consciousness is said to be inherent in this animal, so is meat-roasting said to be inherent in the jack. As sensation, reasoning, volition, memory, &c. are the several modes of thinking; so roasting of beef, roasting of mutton, roasting of pullets, geese, turkeys, &c. are the several modes of meat-roasting. And as the general quality of meatroasting, with its several modifications, as to beef, mutton, pullets, &c. does not inhere in any one part of the jack; so neither does consciousness, with its several modes of sensation, intellection, volition, &c. inhere in any one, but is the result from the mechanical composition of the Pope. whole animal. § 27. Diversity of Geniuses. I shall range these confined and less copious geniuses under proper classes, and (the better to give their pictures to the reader) under the names of animals of some sort or other; whereby he will be enabled at the first sight of such as shall 1. The Flying Fishes: These are writers who now and then rise upon their fins, and fly out of the profound; but their wings are soon dry, and they drop down to the bottom. G.S. A.H. C.G. 2. The Swallows are authors that are eternally skimming and fluttering up and down; but all their agility is employed to catch flies. L.T. W.P. Lord H. 3. The Ostriches are such, whose heaviness rarely permits them to raise themselves from the ground; their wings are of no use to lift them up, and their motion is between flying and walking; but then they run very fast. D.F. L.E. The Hon. E.H. The Parrots are they that repeat another's words in such a hoarse odd voice, as makes them seem their own. The Reverend W.B. W.H. C. C. D.D. 5. The Didappers are authors that keep themselves long out of sight, under water, and come up now and then where you least expected them. L.W. G.D. Esq. The Hon. Sir W.Y. 6. The Porpoises are unwieldy and big; they put all their numbers into a great turmoil and tempest: but whenever they appear in plain light (which is seldom) they are only shapeless and ugly monsters. I.D. C.G. I.O. 7. The Frogs are such as can neither walk nor fly, but can leap and bound to admiration; they live generally in the bottom of a ditch, and make a great noise whenever they thrust their heads above water. E.W. L.M. Esq. T.D. Gent. 8. The Eels are obscure authors, that wrap themselves up in their own mud, but are mighty nimble and pert. L.W.L.T. P.M. General C. 9. The Tortoises are slow and chill, and like pastoral writers, delight much in gardens: they have for the most part a fine embroidered shell, and underneath it, a heavy lump. A.P. W.B. L.E. The Right Hon. E. of S. These are the chief characteristics of the Bathos and in each of these kinds we have the comfort to be blessed with sundry and manifold choice spirits in this our island. The Advancement of the Bathos. Thus have I (my dear countrymen) with incredible pains and diligence, discovered the hidden sources of the Bathos, or, as I may say, broke open the abysses of this great deep. And having now established good and wholesome laws, what remains but that all true moderns, with their utmost might, do proceed to put the same in execution? In order whereto, I think I shall, in the second place, highly deserve of my country, by proposing such a scheme as may facilitate this great end. As our number is confessedly far superior to that of the enemy, there seems nothing wanting but unanimity among ourselves. It is therefore humbly offered, that all and every individual of the Bathos do enter into a firm association, and incorporate into one regular body: whereof every member, even the meanest, will some-way contribute to the support of the whole in like manner as the weakest reeds, when joined in one bundle, become infrangible. To which end our art ought to be put upon the same foot with other arts of this age. The vast improvement of modern manufactures ariseth from their being divided into several branches, and parcelled out to several trades; for instance in clock-making, one artist makes the balance, another the spring, another the crown-wheels, a fourth the case, and the principal workman puts all together: to this economy we owe the perfection of our modern writers; and doubtless we also might that of our modern poetry and rhetoric, were the several parts branched out in like manner. Nothing is more evident, than that divers persons, no other way remarkable, have each a strong disposition to the formation of some particular trope or figure. Aristotle saith, that the hyperbole is an ornament fit for young men of quality; accordingly we find in those gentlemen a wonderful propensity towards it, which is marvellously improved by travelling: soldiers also and seamen are very happy in the same figure. The periphrasis or circumlocution is the peculiar talent of country farmers; the proverb and apologue, of old men at clubs; the illipsis, or speech by half-words, of ministers and politicians; the aposiopesis, of courtiers; the litotes, and diminution, of ladies, whisperers, and backbiters; and the anadiplosis, of common criers and hawkers, who, by redoubling the same words, persuade people to buy their oysters, greenhastings, or new ballads. Epithets may be found in great plenty at Billingsgate, sarcasm and irony learned upon the water, and the epiphonema or exclamation fre quently from the bear-garden, and as frequently from the Hear him' of the House of Commons. Now each man applying his whole time and genius upon his particular figure, would doubtless attain to perfection: and when each became incorporated and sworn into the society (as hath been proposed) a poet or orator would have no more to do but to send to the particular traders in each kind; to the metaphorist for his allegories, to the simile-maker for his comparisons, to the ironist for his sarcasms, to the apophthegmatist for his sentences, &c.; whereby a dedication or speech would be composed in a moment, the superior artist having nothing to do but to put together all the materials. I therefore propose that there be contrived, with all convenient dispatch, at the public expence, a rhetorical chest of drawers, consisting of three stories; the highest for the deliberative, the middle for the demonstrative, and the lowest for the judicial. These shall be subdivided into loci or places, being repositories for matter and argument in the several kinds of oration or writing; and every drawer shall again be subdivided into cells, resembling those of cabinets for rarities. The apartment for peace or war, and that of the liberty of the press, may in a very few days be filled with several arguments perfectly new; and the vituperative partition will as easily be replenished with a most choice collection, entirely of the growth and manufacture of the present age. Every composer will soon be taught the use of this cabinet, and how to manage all the registers of it, which will be drawn out much in the manner of those in an organ. The keys of it must be kept in honest hands, by some reverend prelate, or valiant officer, of unquestionable loyalty and affection to every present establishment in church and state; which will sufficiently guard against any mischief which might otherwise be apprehended from it. And being lodged in such hands, it may be at discretion let out by the day, to several great orators in both houses; from whence it is to be hoped much profit and gain will accrue to our society. Dedications and Panegyrics. project may prove, will appear from this single consideration, that nothing is of equal consequence to the success of our works as speed and dispatch. Great pity it is, that solid brains are not, like other solid bodies, constantly endowed with a velocity in sinking proportionable to their heaviness; for it is with the flowers of the Bathos as with those of nature, which, if the careful gardener brings not hastily to market in the morning, most unprofitably perish and wither before night. And of all our productions none is so short-lived as the dedication and panegyric, which are often but the praise of a day, and become by the next utterly useless, improper, indecent, and false. This is the more to be lamented, inasmuch as these two are the sorts whereon in a manner depends that profit, which must still be remembered to be the main end of our writers and speak ers. should put some things in a strong light, and throw a shade over others, I shall explain the method of turning a vicious man into a hero. The first and chief rule is the golden rule of transformation; which consists in converting vices into their bordering virtues. A man who is a spendthrift, and will not pay a just debt, may have his injustice transformed into liberality; cowardice may be metamorphosed into prudence; intemperance into good-nature and good-fellowship; corruption into patriotism; and lewdness into tenderness and facility. The second is the rule of contraries. It is certain the less a man is endued with any virtue, the more need he has to have it plentifully bestowed, especially those good qualities of which the world generally believes he has none at all; for who will thank a man for giving him that which he has ? are ever to re We shall therefore employ this chapter in shewing the quickest method of com- The reverse of these precepts will serve posing them after which we will teach for satire; wherein we : a short way to epic poetry. And these being confessedly the works of most importance and difficulty, it is presumed we may leave the rest to each author's own learning or practice. First of panegyric. Every man is honourable, who is so by law, custom, or title. The public are better judges of what is honourable than private men. The virtues of great men, like those of plants, are inherent in them, whether they are exerted or not; and the more strong ly inherent, the less they are exerted; as a man is the more rich, the less he spends. All great ministers, without either private or economical virtue, are virtuous by their posts, liberal and generous upon the public money, provident upon public supplies, just by paying public interest, courageous and magnanimous by the fleets and armies, magnificent upon the public expences, and prudent by public success. They have by their office a right to a share of the public stock of virtues: besides, they are by prescription immemorial invested in all the celebrated virtues of their predecessors in the same stations, especially those of their own ancestors. As to what are commonly called the colours of honourable and dishonourable, they are various in different countries: in this, they are blue, green, and red. But, forasmuch as the duty we owe to the public doth often require that we mark that whoso loseth his place, or becomes out of favour with the government, hath forfeited his share in public praise and honour. Therefore the truly publicspirited writer ought in duty to strip him whom the government hath stripped; which is the real poetical justice of this age. For a full collection of topies and epithets to be used in the praise and dispraise of ministerial and unministerial persons, I refer to our rhetorical cabinet; concluding with an earnest exhortation to all my brethren, to observe the precepts here laid down; the neglect of which has cost some of them their ears in a pillory. A Recipe to make an Epic Poem. An epic poem, the critics agree, is the greatest work human nature is capable of. They have already laid down many mechanical rules for compositions of this sort, but at the same time they cut off almost all undertakers from the possibility of ever performing them; for the first qualification they unanimously require in a poet is a genius. I shall here endeavour (for the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifest, that an epic poem may be made without a genius, nay, without learning or much reading. This must necessarily be of great use to all those who confess they never read, and of whom the world is convinced they never learn. Moliere observes of making a |