Satires and miscellaneous poetry and prose :: :: University of Virginia Library

FORMAL SATIRES

THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON
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Square brackets denote editorial insertions or emendations

A learn'd Society of late,
The Glory of a foreign State,
Agreed, upon a Summer's Night,
To search the Moon by her own Light;
To take an Invent'ry of all
Her real Estate, and personal;
And make an accurate Survey
Of all her Lands, and how they lay,
As true as that of Ireland, where
The sly Surveyors stole a Shire;
T' observe her Country, how 'twas planted,
With what sh' abounded most, or wanted;
And make the proper'st Observations,
For settling of new Plantations,
If the Society should incline
T' attempt so glorious a Design.

This was the Purpose of their meeting,
For which they chose a Time as fitting;
When, at the Full, her radiant Light
And Influence too were at their Height.
And now the lofty Tube, the Scale
With which they Heav'n itself assail,
Was mounted full against the Moon;
And all stood ready to fall on,
Impatient who should have the Honour
To plant an Ensign first upon her.

When one, who for his deep Belief
Was Virtuoso then in chief,
Approv'd the most profound, and wise
To solve Impossibilities,
Advancing gravely, to apply
To th' optick glass his judging Eye,

Cry'd—Strange!—then reinforc'd his Sight
Against the Moon with all his Might,
And bent his penetrating Brow,
As if he meant to gaze her through.
When all the rest began t' admire,
And, like a Train, from him took Fire,
Surpriz'd with Wonder, beforehand,
At what they did not understand,
Cry'd out, impatient to know what
The Matter was, they wonder'd at.

Quoth he,—Th' Inhabitants o' th' Moon,
Who, when the Sun shines hot at Noon,
Do live in Cellars underground
Of eight Miles deep, and eighty round,
(In which at once they fortify
Against the Sun, and th' Enemy)
Which they count Towns and Cities there,
Because their People's civiler
Than those rude Peasants, that are found
To live upon the upper Ground,
Call'd Privolvans, with whom they are
Perpetually in open War;
And now both Armies, highly 'nrag'd;
Are in a bloody Fight engag'd;
And many fall on both Sides slain,
As by the Glass 'tis clear, and plain.
Look quickly then, that every one
May see the Fight, before 'tis done.

With that a great Philosopher,
Admir'd, and famous far and near,
As one of singular Invention,
But universal Comprehension,
Apply'd one Eye, and half a Nose
Unto the optick Engine close.
For he had lately undertook
To prove, and publish in a Book,
That Men, whose nat'ral Eyes are out,
May, by more pow'rful Art, be brought
To see with th' empty Holes as plain,
As if their Eyes were in again:

And, if they chanc'd to fail of those,
To make an Optick of a Nose;
As clearly it may, by those that wear
But Spectacles, be made appear;
By which both Senses being united
Does render them much better sighted.
This great Man, having fix'd both Sights
To view the formidable Fights,
Observ'd his best, and then cry'd out,—
The Battle's desperately fought:
The gallant Subvolvani rally,
And from their Trenches make a Sally
Upon the stubborn Enemy,
Who now begin to rout and fly.

These silly ranting Privolvans,
Have every Summer their Campains,
And muster, like the warlike Sons
Of Raw-head and of Bloody-bones,
As numerous as Soland Geese
I' th' Islands of the Orcades,
Couragiously to make a Stand,
And face their Neighbours Hand to Hand;
Until the long'd-for Winter's come,
And then return in Triumph home,
And spend the rest o' th' Year in Lies,
And vapouring of their Victories.
From th' old Arcadians th' are believ'd
To be, before the Moon, deriv'd;
And when her Orb was new created,
To people her, were thence translated.
For, as th' Arcadians were reputed
Of all the Grecians the most stupid,
Whom nothing in the World could bring
To civil Life, but fiddling,
They still retain the antique Course,
And Custom of their Ancestors;
And always sing, and fiddle to
Things of the greatest Weight they do.

While thus the learn'd Man entertains
Th' Assembly with the Privolvans;

Another of as great Renown,
And solid Judgment in the Moon;
That understood her various Soils,
And which produc'd best Genet-moyles;
And in the Register of Fame
Had enter'd his long-living Name;
After he had por'd long and hard
In th' Engine, gave a Start, and star'd—

Quoth he,—A stranger Sight appears
Than e're was seen in all the Spheres,
A Wonder more unparallel'd,
Than ever mortal Tube beheld.
An Elephant from one of those
Two mighty Armies is broke loose,
And with the Horrour of the Fight
Appears amaz'd, and in a Fright;
Look quickly, lest the Sight of us
Should cause the startled Beast t' imboss.
It is a large one, far more great
Than e'er was bred in Afric yet;
From which we boldly may infer,
The Moon is much the fruitfuller.
And, since the mighty Pyrrhus brought
Those living Castles first, 'tis thought,
Against the Romans, in the Field,
It may an Argument be held
(Arcadia being but a Piece,
As his Dominions were, of Greece,)
To prove, what this illustrious Person
Has made so noble a Discourse on;
And amply satisfy'd us all
Of th' Privolvans Original.
That Elephants are in the Moon,
Though we had now discover'd none,
Is easily made manifest;
Since, from the greatest to the least,
All other Stars and Constellations
Have Cattle of all sorts of Nations;
And Heaven, like a Tartar's Horde,
With great and numerous Droves is stor'd:

And, if the Moon produce by Nature
A People of so vast a Stature,
'Tis consequent, she shou'd bring forth
Far greater Beasts too, than the Earth;
(As by the best Accounts appears
Of all our great'st Discoverers)
And, that those monstrous Creatures there
Are not such Rarities as here.

Mean while the rest had had a Sight
Of all Particulars o' th' Fight;
And ev'ry Man with equal Care,
Perus'd of th' Elephant his Share,
Proud of his Int'rest in the Glory
Of so miraculous a Story:
When one, who for his Excellence
In height'ning Words and shad'wing Sense,
And magnifying all he writ
With curious microscopick Wit,
Was magnify'd himself no less
In home and foreign Colleges,
Began, transported with the Twang
Of his own Trillo, thus t' harangue.

Most excellent and virtuous Friends,
This great Discovery makes amends
For all our unsuccessful Pains,
And lost Expence of Time and Brains.
For, by this sole Phænomenon,
We've gotten Ground upon the Moon;
And gain'd a Pass, to hold dispute
With all the Planets that stand out;
To carry this most virtuous War
Home to the Door of every Star,
And plant th' Artillery of our Tubes
Against their proudest Magnitudes;
To stretch our Victories beyond
Th' Extent of planetary Ground;
And fix our Engines, and our Ensigns
Upon the fixt Stars vast Dimensions,
(Which Archimede, so long ago,
Durst not presume to wish to do)

And prove, if they are other Suns,
As some have held Opinions;
Or Windows in the Empyreum,
From whence those bright Effluvias come
Like Flames of Fire (as others guess)
That shine i' the Mouths of Furnaces.
Nor is this all, we have atchiev'd,
But more, henceforth to be believ'd,
And have no more our best Designs,
Because they're ours, believ'd ill Signs.
T' out-throw, and stretch, and to enlarge
Shall now no more be laid t' our Charge;
Nor shall our ablest Virtuosos
Prove Arguments for Coffee-houses;
Nor those Devices, that are laid
Too truly on us, nor those made,
Hereafter gain Belief among
Our strictest Judges, right or wrong;
Nor shall our past Misfortunes more
Be charg'd upon the ancient Score:
No more our making old Dogs young
Make Men suspect us still i' th' Wrong;
Nor new-invented Chariots draw
The Boys to course us, without Law;
Nor putting Pigs t' a Bitch to nurse,
To turn 'em into Mungrel-Curs,
Make them suspect, our Sculs are brittle,
And hold too much Wit, or too little:
Nor shall our Speculations, whether
An Elder-stick will save the Leather
Of Schoolboy's Breeches from the Rod,
Make all we do appear as odd.
This one Discovery's enough,
To take all former Scandals off—
But, since the World's incredulous
Of all our Scrutinies, and us;
And with a Prejudice prevents
Our best and worst Experiments;
(As if th' were destin'd to miscarry,
In consort try'd, or solitary)

And since it is uncertain, when
Such Wonders will occur agen,
Let us as cautiously contrive,
To draw an exact Narrative
Of what we every one can swear,
Our Eyes themselves have seen appear;
That, when we publish the Account,
We all may take our Oaths upon't.

This said, they all with one Consent,
Agreed to draw up th' Instrument,
And, for the gen'ral Satisfaction,
To print it in the next Transaction.
But, whilst the Chiefs were drawing up
This strange Memoir o' th' Telescope,
One, peeping in the Tube by Chance,
Beheld the Elephant advance,
And, from the West-side of the Moon,
To th' East was in a Moment gone.
This b'ing related gave a Stop
To what the rest were drawing up;
And every Man amaz'd anew,
How it could possibly be true,
That any Beast should run a Race
So monstrous, in so short a Space,
Resolv'd, howe'er, to make it good,
At least, as possible as he cou'd;
And rather his own Eyes condemn,
Than question what h' had seen with them.

While all were thus resolv'd; a Man,
Of great Renown there, thus began—
'Tis strange, I grant! But who can say
What cannot be; what can, and may?
Especially at so hugely vast
A Distance, as this Wonder's plac't;
Where the least Error of the Sight
May show Things false, but never right:
Nor can we try them so far off,
By any sublunary Proof.
For who can say, that Nature there
Has the same Laws, she goes by here?

Nor is it like, she has infus'd
In every Species, there produc'd,
The same Efforts, she does confer
Upon the same Productions here:
Since those with us, of several Nations,
Have such prodigious Variations;
And she affects so much to use
Variety, in all she does.
Hence may b' infer'd, that, tho' I grant
We've seen i' th' Moon an Elephant,
That Elephant may differ so
From those upon the Earth below,
Both in his Bulk, and Force, and Speed,
As being of a diff'rent Breed;
That, tho' our own are but slow-pac't,
Theirs there may fly, or run as fast;
And yet be Elephants no less,
Than those of Indian Pedigrees.

This said, another of great Worth,
Fam'd for his learned Works put forth,
Look'd wise, then said—All this is true,
And learnedly observ'd by you:
But there's another Reason for't,
That falls but very little short
Of mathematick Demonstration,
Upon an accurate Calculation,
And that is—As the Earth and Moon
Do both move contrary upon
Their Axes, the Rapidity
Of both their Motions cannot be,
But so prodigiously fast,
That vaster Spaces may be past,
In less Time than the Beast has gone,
Though h' had no Motion of his own;
Which we can take no Measure of,
As you have clear'd by learned Proof.
This granted, we may boldly thence
Lay claim to a nobler Inference;
And make this great Phænomenon
(Were there no other) serve alone,

To clear the grand Hypothesis
Of th' Motion of the Earth from this.

With this they all were satisfy'd,
As Men are wont o' th' bias'd Side,
Applauded the profound Dispute;
And grew more gay and resolute
By having overcome all doubt,
Than if it never had fall'n out;
And, to compleat their Narrative,
Agreed t' insert this strange Retrieve.

But, while they were diverted all
With wording the Memorial,
The Footboys, for Diversion too,
As having nothing else to do,
Seeing the Telescope at leisure,
Turn'd Virtuosos for their Pleasure;
Began to gaze upon the Moon,
As those they waited on, had done,
With Monkeys Ingenuity,
That love to practise, what they see;
When one, whose Turn it was to peep,
Saw something in the Engine creep;
And, viewing well, discover'd more,
Than all the Learn'd had done before.
Quoth he,—A little Thing is slunk
Into the long star-gazing Trunk;
And now is gotten down so nigh,
I have him just against mine Eye.

This being overheard by one,
Who was not so far overgrown
In any virtuous Speculation,
To judge with mere Imagination,
Immediately he made a Guess
At solving all Appearances,
A Way far more significant,
Than all their Hints of th' Elephant;
And found, upon a second View,
His own Hypothesis most true;
For he had scarce apply'd his Eye
To th' Engine, but immediately

He found, a Mouse was gotten in
The hollow Tube, and shut between
The two Glass-windows in Restraint
Was swell'd into an Elephant;
And prov'd the virtuous Occasion,
Of all this learned Dissertation.
And, as a Mountain heretofore
Was great with Child, they say, and bore
A silly Mouse; this Mouse, as strange,
Brought forth a Mountain, in Exchange.

Mean while, the rest in Consultation
Had penn'd the wonderful Narration;
And set their Hands, and Seals, and Wit
T' attest the Truth of what th' had writ;
When this accurst Phænomenon
Confounded all th' had said or done.
For 'twas no sooner hinted at,
But th' all were in a Tumult strait,
More furiously enrag'd by far,
Than those that in the Moon made War,
To find so admirable a Hint,
When they had all agreed t' have seen't,
And were engag'd to make it out,
Obstructed with a paultry Doubt.
When one, whose Task was to determin,
And solve th' Appearances of Vermin;
Wh' had made profound Discoveries
In Frogs, and Toads, and Rats, and Mice;
(Tho' not so curious, 'tis true,
As many a wise Rat-catcher knew)
After he had with Signs made Way
For something great he had to say
—This Disquisition
Is, half of it, in my Discission:
For, though the Elephant, as Beast,
Belongs of Right to all the rest,
The Mouse, b'ing but a Vermin, none
Has Title to, but I alone;
And therefore hope, I may be heard,
In my own Province, with Regard.

It is no Wonder, w' are cry'd down,
And made the Talk of all the Town,
That rants and swears, for all our great
Attempts, we have done nothing yet,
If ev'ry one have Leave to doubt,
When some great Secret's half made out;
And, 'cause perhaps it is not true,
Obstruct, and ruin all we do.
As no great Act was ever done,
Nor ever can, with Truth alone;
If nothing else but Truth w' allow,
'Tis no great Matter what we do.
For Truth is too reserv'd, and nice,
T' appear in mix'd Societies;
Delights in solit'ry Abodes,
And never shews her self in Crowds;
A sullen little Thing, below
All Matters of Pretence and Show;
That deal in Novelty, and Change,
Not of Things true, but rare and strange,
To treat the World with what is fit,
And proper to its nat'ral Wit;
The World, that never sets Esteem
On what Things are, but what they seem;
And, if they be not strange and new,
Th' are ne'er the better for b'ing true.
For, what has Mankind gain'd by knowing
His little Truth, but his Undoing,
Which wisely was by Nature hidden,
And only for his Good forbidden?
And, therefore, with great Prudence does,
The World still strive to keep it close;
For if all secret Truths were known,
Who would not be once more undone?
For Truth has always Danger in't,
And here, perhaps, may cross some Hint,
We have already agreed upon,
And vainly frustrate all we've done;
Only to make new Work for Stubs,
And all the academick Clubs.

How much then ought we have a Care,
That no Man know above his Share;
Nor dare to understand, henceforth,
More than his Contribution's worth:
That those, wh' have purchas'd of the College
A Share, or half a Share of Knowledge,
And brought in none, but spent Repute,
Should not b' admitted to dispute;
Nor any Man pretend to know
More than his Dividend comes to?
For Partners have been always known
To cheat their publick Int'rest prone;
And, if we do not look to ours,
'Tis sure to run the self-same Course.

This said, the whole Assembly allow'd
The Doctrine to be right, and good;
And, from the Truth of what th' had heard,
Resolv'd to give Truth no Regard,
But, what was for their Turn, to vouch,
And either find, or make it such:
That 'twas more noble to create
Things like Truth, out of strong Conceit,
Than, with vexatious Pains and Doubt,
To find, or think t' have found her out.

This b'ing resolv'd, they, one by one,
Review'd the Tube, the Mouse, and Moon;
But still, the narrower they pry'd,
The more they were unsatisfy'd,
In no one Thing, they saw, agreeing;
As if th' had sev'ral Faiths of seeing.
Some swore, upon a second View,
That all th' had seen before was true,
And that they never would recant
One Syllable of th' Elephant;
Avow'd, his Snout could be no Mouse's,
But a true Elephant's Proboscis.
Others began to doubt, and waver,
Uncertain which o' th' two to favour;
And knew not whether to espouse
The Cause of th' Elephant, or Mouse.

Some held no Way so orthodox
To try it, as the Ballot-Box;
And, like the Nation's Patriots,
To find, or make, the Truth by Votes.
Others conceiv'd it much more fit
T' unmount the Tube, and open it;
And, for their private Satisfaction,
To re-examine the Transaction;
And after explicate the rest,
As they should find Cause for the best.

To this, as th' only Expedient,
The whole Assembly gave Consent:
But, e're the Tube was half let down,
It clear'd the first Phænomenon:
For, at the End, prodigious Swarms
Of Flies, and Gnats, like Men in Arms,
Had all past Muster, by mischance,
Both for the Sub, and Privolvans.
This, b'ing discover'd, put them all
Into a fresh, and fiercer Brawl,
Asham'd, that Men so grave and wise
Should be chaldes'd by Gnats and Flies,
And take the feeble Insects' Swarms
For mighty Troops of Men at Arms;
As vain as those, who when the Moon
Bright in a crystal River shone,
Threw Casting-nets as su'tly at her,
To catch and pull her out o' th' Water.
But, when they had unscrew'd the Glass,
To find out, where th' Impostor was,
And saw the Mouse, that by mishap,
Had made the Telescope a Trap,
Amaz'd, confounded, and afflicted,
To be so openly convicted,
Immediately they get them gone,
With this Discovery alone:
That those who greedily pursue
Things wonderful, instead of true;
That in their Speculations chuse
To make Discoveries strange News;

And Nat'ral History a Gazette
Of Tales stupendous, and far-fet;
Hold no Truth worthy to be known,
That is not huge, and over-grown,
And explicate Appearances,
Not as they are, but as they please,
In vain strive Nature to suborn,
And, for their Pains, are paid with Scorn.

THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON

IN LONG VERSE

A virtuous, learn'd Society, of late
The Pride and Glory of a foreign State,
Made an Agreement on a Summer's Night,
To search the Moon at full, by her own Light;
To take a perfect Invent'ry of all
Her real Fortunes, or her Personal;
And make a geometrical Survey,
Of all her Lands, and how her Country lay,
As accurate as that of Ireland, where
The sly Surveyor 's said t' have sunk a Shire:
T' observe her Country's Climate, how 'twas planted,
And what she most abounded with, or wanted;
And draw Maps of her prop'rest Situations
For settling, and erecting new Plantations;
If ever the Society should incline
T' attempt so great, and glorious a Design:
A Task in vain, unless the German Kepler
Had found out a Discovery to people her,
And stock her Country with Inhabitants
Of military Men, and Elephants.
For th' Ancients only took her for a Piece
Of red-hot Iron, as big as Peloponese,
Till he appear'd; for which, some write, she sent
Upon his Tribe as strange a Punishment.

This was the only Purpose of their Meeting,
For which they chose a Time, and Place most fitting;
When, at the Full, her equal Shares of Light
And Influence were at their greatest Height.

And now the lofty Telescope, the Scale,
By which they venture Heav'n itself t' assail,
Was rais'd, and planted full against the Moon;
And all the rest stood ready to fall on,
Impatient, who should bear away the Honour
To plant an Ensign, first of all, upon her.

When one, who, for his solid deep Belief,
Was chosen Virtuoso then in chief;
Had been approv'd the most profound, and wise
At solving all Impossibilities,
With Gravity advancing, to apply
To th' Optick-glass his penetrating Eye,
Cry'd out,—O strange!—then reinforc'd his Sight
Against the Moon with all his Art and Might;
And bent the Muscles of his pensive Brow,
As if he meant to stare and gaze her thro',
While all the rest began as much t' admire,
And, like a Powder-train, from him took Fire,
Surpriz'd with dull Amazement beforehand
At what they would, but could not understand;
And grew impatient to discover, what
The Matter was, they so much wonder'd at.

Quoth he,—The old Inhabitants o' th' Moon,
Who, when the Sun shines hottest about Noon,
Are wont to live in Cellars under ground,
Of eight Miles deep, and more than eighty round,
In which at once they use to fortify
Against the Sun-beams, and the Enemy,
Are counted Borough-Towns and Cities there,
Because th' Inhabitants are civiler
Than those rude Country Peasants, that are found,
Like Mountaineers, to live on th' upper Ground,
Nam'd Privolvans, with whom the others are
Perpetually in state of open War.
And now both Armies, mortally engrag'd
Are in a fierce and bloody Fight engag'd;
And many fall on both Sides kill'd and slain,
As by the Telescope 'tis clear and plain.
Look in it quickly then, that every one
May see his Share before the Battle's done.

At this, a famous great Philosopher,
Admir'd, and celebrated, far and near
As one of wond'rous singular Invention,
And equal universal Comprehension,
By which he had compos'd a Pedlars Jargon,
For all the World to learn, and use in Bargain,
An universal canting Idiom,
To understand the swinging Pendulum,
And to communicate, in all Designs,
With th' Eastern Virtuoso-Mandarines,
Apply'd an optick Nerve, and half a Nose
To th' End and Center of the Engine, close:
For he had, very lately, undertook
To vindicate, and publish in a Book,
That Men, whose native Eyes are blind, or out,
May by more admirable Art, be brought
To see with empty Holes as well and plain,
As if their Eyes had been put in again.

This great Man, therefore, having fix'd his Sight
T' observe the bloody formidable Fight,
Consider'd carefully, and then cry'd out,
—'Tis true, the Battle's desperately fought;
The gallant Subvolvans begin to rally,
And from their Trenches valiantly sally,
To fall upon the stubborn Enemy,
Who fearfully begin to rout and fly.

These paltry domineering Privolvans
Have, every Summer-season, their Campains;
And muster, like the military Sons
Of Raw-head, and victorious Bloody-bones,
As great and numerous as Soland-geese
I' th' Summer-Islands of the Orcades,
Couragiously to make a dreadful Stand
And boldly face their Neighbour's Hand to Hand.
Until the peaceful, long'd-for Winter's come;
And then disband, and march in Triumph Home;
And spend the rest of all the Year in Lies,
And vap'ring of their unknown Victories.

From th' old Arcadians they have been believ'd
To be, before the Moon herself, deriv'd;

And, when her Orb was first of all created,
To be from thence, to people her, translated.
For as those People had been long reputed
Of all the Peloponesians, the most stupid,
Whom nothing in the World could ever bring
T' endure the civil Life, but Fiddling;
They ever since retain the antique Course,
And native Frenzy of their Ancestors;
And always use to sing, and fiddle to
Things of the most important Weight they do.

While thus the Virtuoso entertains
The whole Assembly with the Privolvans,
Another Sophist, but of less Renown,
Though longer Observation of the Moon;
That understood the Diff'rence of her Soils,
And which produc'd the fairest Gennet-moyles;
But for an unpaid Weekly Shillings Pension,
Had fin'd for Wit, and Judgment, and Invention;
Who, after poring tedious and hard
In th' Optic-Engine, gave a Start, and star'd,
And thus began—A stranger Sight appears,
Than ever yet was seen in all the Spheres;
A greater Wonder, more unparallel'd
Than ever mortal Tube, or Eye beheld;
A mighty Elephant from one of those
Two fighting Armies is at length broke loose,
And with the desp'rate Horror of the Fight
Appears amaz'd, and in a dreadful Fright:
Look quickly, lest the only Sight of us
Should cause the startled Creature to imboss.
It is a large one, and appears more great
Than ever was produc'd in Africk yet;
From which we confidently may infer,
The Moon appears to be the fruitfuller.
And since, of old, the mighty Pyrrhus brought
Those living Castles first of all, 'tis thought,
Against the Roman Army in the Field;
It may a valid Argument, be held,
(The same Arcadia being but a Piece,
As his Dominions were, of antique Greece)

To vindicate, what this illustrious Person
Has made so learn'd, and noble a Discourse on;
And giv'n us ample Satisfaction all
Of th' ancient Privolvans Original.

That Elephants are really in the Moon,
Although our Fortune had discover'd none,
Is easily made plain, and manifest,
Since from the greatest Orbs, down to the least,
All other Globes of Stars and Constellations
Have Cattle in 'em of all Sorts and Nations;
And Heav'n like a northern Tartar's Horde,
With numerous and mighty Droves is stor'd.
And, if the Moon can but produce by Nature
A People of so large, and vast a Stature,
'Tis more than probable, she should bring forth
A greater Breed of Beasts too, than the Earth;
As by the best Accounts we have, appears
Of all our crediblest Discoverers;
And, that those vast and monstrous Creatures there
Are not such far-fet Rarities, as here.

Meanwhile th'Assembly now had had a Sight
Of all distinct Particulars o' th' Fight;
And every Man with Diligence and Care
Perus'd, and view'd of th'Elephant his Share,
Proud of his equal Int'rest in the Glory
Of so stupendous, and renown'd a Story,
When one, who for his Fame and Excellence
In heightening of Words, and shadowing Sense,
And magnifying all, he ever writ,
With delicate, and Microscopick Wit,
Had long been magnify'd himself no less
In foreign and domestick Colleges,
Began at last (transported with the Twang
Of his own Elocution) thus t' harangue.

Most virtuous, and incomparable Friends,
This great Discov'ry fully makes amends
For all our former unsuccessful Pains,
And lost Expences of our Time and Brains:
For, by this admirable Phænomenon,
We now have gotten Ground upon the Moon;

And gain'd a Pass t' engage, and hold Dispute
With all the other Planets, that stand out;
And carry on this brave and virtuous War
Home to the Door of th' obstinatest Star;
And plant th' Artillery of our Optick Tubes
Against the proudest of their Magnitudes;
To stretch our future Victories beyond
The uttermost of Planetary Ground;
And plant our warlike Engines, and our Ensigns
Upon the fix'd Stars spacious Dimensions,
To prove, if they are other Suns, or not,
As some Philosophers have wisely thought,
Or only Windows in the Empyreum,
Through which those bright Effluvias use to come;
Which Archimede, so many Years ago,
Durst never venture, but to wish to know.
Nor is this all, that we have now atchiev'd,
But greater Things!—Henceforth to be believ'd,
And have no more our best, and worst Designs,
Because th' are ours, suspected for ill Signs.
T' out-throw, and magnify, and to enlarge
Shall, henceforth, be no more laid to our charge;
Nor shall our best and ablest Virtuosos
Prove Arguments again for Coffee-Houses;
Nor little Stories gain Belief among
Our criticalest Judges right or wrong:
Nor shall our new-invented Chariots draw
The Boys to course us in 'em, without Law:
Make Chips of Elms produce the largest Trees,
Or sowing Saw-dust furnish Nurseries:
No more our heading Darts (a swinging one!)
With Butter only harden'd in the Sun;
Or Men that use to whistle loud enough
To be heard by others plainly five Miles off,
Cause all the rest, we own, and have avow'd
To be believ'd as desperately loud.
Nor shall our future Speculations, whether
An Elder-stick will render all the Leather
Of School-boys Breeches proof against the Rod,
Make all we undertake appear as odd.

This one Discovery will prove enough
To take all past and future Scandals off:
But since the World is so incredulous
Of all our usual Scrutinies and us,
And with a constant Prejudice prevents
Our best, as well as worst Experiments,
As if they were all destin'd to miscarry,
As well in Concert try'd, as solitary;
And that th'Assembly is uncertain, when
Such great Discoveries will occur agen,
'Tis reas'nable, we should, at least, contrive
To draw up as exact a Narrative
Of that which every Man of us can swear,
Our Eyes themselves have plainly seen appear;
That when 'tis fit to publish the Account,
We all may take our several Oaths upon't.

This said, the whole Assembly gave Consent
To drawing up th' authentick Instrument;
And, for the Nation's general Satisfaction,
To print, and own it in their next Transaction.
But while their ablest Men were drawing up
The wonderful Memoir o' th' Telescope,
A Member peeping in the Tube, by chance,
Beheld the Elephant begin t' advance,
That from the West-by-North Side of the Moon
To th' East-by-South was in a Moment gone.
This, being related, gave a sudden Stop
To all, their Grandees had been drawing up;
And every Person was amaz'd a-new,
How such a strange Surprizal should be true;
Or any Beast perform so great a Race,
So swift and rapid, in so short a Space,
Resolv'd, as suddenly, to make it good,
Or render all as fairly as they cou'd;
And rather choose their own Eyes to condemn,
Than question, what they had beheld with them.

While every one was thus resolv'd, a Man
Of great Esteem, and Credit, thus began;
—'Tis strange, I grant! but who, alas! can say,
What cannot be, or justly can, and may,

Especially at so hugely wide and vast
A Distance, as this Miracle is plac't,
Where the least Error of the Glass, or Sight,
May render Things amiss, but never right?
Nor can we try them, when th' are so far off,
By any equal sublunary Proof:
For who can justify, that Nature there
Is ty'd to the same Laws, she acts by here?
Nor is it probable, she has infus'd
Int' every Species, in the Moon produc'd,
The same Efforts, she uses to confer
Upon the very same Productions here:
Since those upon the Earth, of several Nations,
Are found t' have such prodigious Variations;
And she affects so constantly to use
Variety in every Thing she does.

From hence may be inferr'd, that, tho' I grant,
We have beheld i' th' Moon an Elephant,
That Elephant may chance to differ so
From those with us, upon the Earth below,
Both in his Bulk, as well as Force and Speed,
As b'ing of a different Kind and Breed,
That, tho' 'tis true, our own are but slow pac'd,
Their's there, perhaps, may fly, or run as fast,
And yet be very Elephants, no less
Than those deriv'd from Indian Families.

This said, another Member of great Worth,
Fam'd for the learned Works he had put forth,
In which the mannerly, and modest Author
Quotes the Right Worshipful, his elder Brother,
Look'd wise a while, then said—All this is true,
And very learnedly observ'd by you;
But there's another nobler Reason for't,
That rightly 'bserv'd, will fall, but little, short
Of solid mathematick Demonstration,
Upon a full, and perfect Calculation;
And that is only this—As th' Earth and Moon
Do constantly move contrary upon
Their several Axes, the Rapidity
Of both their Motions cannot fail to be

So violent, and naturally fast,
That larger Distances may well be past,
In less Time than the Elephant has gone,
Altho' he had no Motion of his own,
Which we on Earth can take no Measure of;
As you have made it evident by Proof.
This granted, we may confidently hence
Claim Title to another Inference;
And make this wonderful Phænomenon
(Were there no other) serve our Turn alone,
To vindicate the grand Hypothesis,
And prove the Motion of the Earth from this.

This said, th' Assembly now was satisfy'd,
As Men are soon upon the biast Side;
With great Applause receiv'd th' admir'd Dispute,
And grew more gay, and brisk, and resolute,
By having (right or wrong) remov'd all doubt,
Than if th' Occasion never had fall'n out;
Resolving to compleat their Narrative,
And punctually insert this strange Retrieve.

But, while their Grandees were diverted all
With nicely wording the Memorial,
The Footboys for their own Diversion too,
As having nothing, now, at all to do,
And when they saw the Telescope at leisure,
Turn'd Virtuosos, only for their Pleasure;
With Drills and Monkeys Ingenuity,
That take Delight to practice all they see,
Began to stare and gaze upon the Moon,
As those they waited on, before had done.
When one, whose Turn it was, by chance to peep,
Saw something in the lofty Engine creep;
And, viewing carefully, discover'd more
Than all their Masters hit upon before.
Quoth he,—O strange! a little Thing is slunk
On th' Inside of the long star-gazing Trunk;
And now is gotten down so low and nigh,
I have him here directly 'gainst mine Eye.

This chancing to be overheard by one,
Who was not, yet, so hugely overgrown

In any philosophic Observation,
As to conclude with mere Imagination;
And yet he made immediately a Guess
At fully solving all Appearances,
A plainer Way, and more significant,
Than all their Hints had prov'd o' th' Elephant;
And quickly found upon a second View,
His own Conjecture, probably, most true:
For he no sooner had apply'd his Eye
To th' optick Engine, but immediately
He found a small Field-Mouse was gotten in
The hollow Telescope, and shut between
The two Glass-Windows, closely in restraint,
Was magnify'd into an Elephant;
And prov'd the happy virtuous Occasion
Of all this deep and learned Dissertation.
And as a mighty Mountain heretofore,
Is said t' have been begot with Child, and bore
A silly Mouse, this captive Mouse, as strange,
Produc'd another Mountain in Exchange.

Mean while the Grandees, long in Consultation,
Had finish'd the miraculous Narration,
And set their Hands, and Seals, and Sense, and Wit
T' attest and vouch the Truth of all th' had writ;
When this unfortunate Phænomenon
Confounded all they had declar'd and done.
For 'twas no sooner told, and hinted at,
But all the rest were in a Tumult straight,
More hot and furiously inrag'd, by far,
Than both the Hosts, that in the Moon made War,
To find so rare and admirable a Hint,
When they had all agreed, and sworn t' have seen't,
And had engag'd themselves to make it out,
Obstructed with a wretched paultry Doubt.

When one, whose only Task was to determin,
And solve the worst Appearances of Vermin;
Who oft' had made profound Discoveries
In Frogs and Toads, as well as Rats and Mice
(Though not so curious and exact, 'tis true
As many an exquisite Rat-catcher knew)

After he had a while with Signs made way
For something pertinent, he had to say,
At last prevail'd—Quoth he—this Disquisition
Is, the one half of it, in my Discission:
For tho', 'tis true, the Elephant, as Beast,
Belongs, of nat'ral Right, to all the Rest;
The Mouse, that's but a paultry Vermin, none
Can claim a Title to, but I alone;
And therefore humbly hope, I may be heard
In my own Province freely, with Regard.

It is no Wonder, that we are cry'd down,
And made the Table-talk of all the Town,
That Rants and Vapours still, for all our great
Designs and Projects, we've done nothing yet,
If every one have Liberty to doubt,
When some great Secret's more than half made out,
Because, perhaps, it will not hold out true,
And put a stop to all w' Attempt to do.
As no great Action ever has been done,
Nor ever's like to be by Truth alone,
If nothing else but only Truth w' allow
'Tis no great Matter what w' intend to do;
For Truth is always too reserv'd and chaste,
T' indure to be by all the Town embrac'd,
A solitary Anchorite that dwells,
Retir'd from all the World in obscure Cells,
Disdains all great Assemblys, and defies
The Press and Crowd of mix'd Societies,
That use to deal in Novelty and Change,
Not of things true, but great, and rare, and strange;
To entertain the World with what is fit
And proper for its Genius, and its Wit;
The World, that's never found to set Esteem
On what Things are, but what th' appear, and seem;
And, if they are not wonderful and new,
Th' are ne're the better for their being true.
For what is Truth, or Knowledge, but a Kind
Of Wantonness and Luxury o' th' Mind,
A Greediness and Gluttony o' the Brain,
That longs to eat forbidden Fruit again,

And grows more desp'rate, like the worst Diseases,
Upon the nobler Part (the Mind) it seizes?
And what has Mankind ever gain'd by knowing
His little Truths, unless his own Undoing,
That prudently by Nature had been hidden,
And, only for his greater Good, forbidden?
And therefore with as great Discretion does
The World endeavour still to keep it close:
For if the Secrets of all Truths were known,
Who would not, once more, be as much undone?
For Truth is never without Danger in't,
As here it has depriv'd us of a Hint,
The whole Assembly had agreed upon,
And utterly defeated all w' had done,
By giving Foot-Boys leave to interpose
And disappoint, whatever we propose,
For nothing but to cut out Work for Stubs,
And all the busy Academick Clubs,
For which they have deserv'd to run the Risks
Of Elder-sticks, and penitential Frisks.
How much then ought we have a special Care,
That none presume to know above his Share,
Nor take upon him t' understand, henceforth,
More than his weekly Contribution's worth:
That all those, that have purchas'd of the College
A half, or but a quarter Share of Knowlege,
And brought none in themselves, but spent Repute,
Should never be admitted to dispute;
Nor any Member undertake to know
More than his equal Dividend comes to?
For Partners have perpetually been known,
T' impose upon their publick Int'rest, prone;
And, if we have not greater Care of ours,
It will be sure to run the self-same Course.

This said, the whole Society allow'd
The Doctrine to be orthodox, and good;
And from th' apparent Truth of what th' had heard,
Resolv'd, henceforth, to give Truth no Regard,
But what was for their Interests to vouch,
And either find it out, or make it such:

That 'twas more admirable to create
Inventions like Truth out of strong Conceit,
Than with vexatious Study, Pains, and Doubt,
To find, or but suppose t' have found it out.

This b'ing resolv'd, th' Assembly, one by one,
Review'd the Tube, the Elephant, and Moon;
But still the more, and curiouser they pry'd,
They but became the more unsatisfy'd,
In no one Thing, they gaz'd upon, agreeing,
As if th' had different Principles of seeing.
Some boldly swore, upon a second View,
That all they had beheld before, was true,
And damn'd themselves, they never would recant
One syllable, th' had seen, of th' Elephant;
Avow'd his Shape and Snout could be no Mouse's,
But a true nat'ral Elephant's Proboscis.
Others began to doubt as much, and waver,
Uncertain which to disallow, or favour;
Until they had as many cross Resolves,
As Irishmen that have been turn'd to Wolves,
And grew distracted, whether to espouse
The Party of the Elephant, or Mouse.

Some held, there was no Way so orthodox,
As to refer it to the Ballot-Box;
And, like some other Nation's Patriots,
To find it out, or make the Truth, by Votes.
Others were of Opinion, 'twas more fit
T' unmount the Telescope, and open it,
And for their own, and all Men's Satisfaction
To search, and re-examin the Transaction;
And afterward to explicate the rest,
As they should see Occasion for the best.

To this, at length, as th' only Expedient,
The whole Assembly freely gave Consent:
But, 'ere the optic Tube was half let down,
Their own Eyes clear'd the first Phænomenon:
For, at the upper End, prodigious Swarms
Of busy Flies and Gnats, like Men in Arms,
Had all past Muster in the Glass by chance,
For both the Peri- and the Subvolvans.

This b'ing discover'd, once more put them all
Into a worse, and desperater Brawl,
Surpriz'd with Shame, that Men so grave and wise
Should be trepann'd by paultry Gnats and Flies;
And to mistake the feeble Insects swarms
For Squadrons, and Reserves of Men in Arms:
As politick as those, who, when the Moon
As bright and glorious in a River shone,
Threw Casting-nets, with equal Cunning at her
To catch her with, and pull her out o' th' Water.

But when at last, they had unscrew'd the Glass,
To find out where the sly Impostor was,
And saw 'twas but a Mouse, that by mishap
Had catch'd himself, and them, in th' optick Trap,
Amaz'd, with Shame confounded, and afflicted
To find themselves so openly convicted,
Immediately made haste to get them gone,
With none, but this Discovery alone:

That learned Men, who greedily pursue
Things, that are rather wonderful than true,
And, in their nicest Speculations, choose
To make their own Discoveries strange News,
And Nat'ral Hist'ry rather a Gazette
Of Rarities stupendous, and far-fet;
Believe no Truths are worthy to be known,
That are not strongly vast, and overgrown;
And strive to explicate Appearances,
Not as they're probable, but as they please,

In vain endeavour Nature to suborn,
And, for their Pains, are justly paid with Scorn.

SATYR UPON THE ROYAL SOCIETY

A learned Man, whom once a Week
A hundred Virtuoso's seek,
And like an Oracle apply to,
T' ask Questions, and admire, and lye to,
Who entertain'd them all of Course
(As Men take Wives for better or worse)
And past them all for Men of Parts,
Though some but Sceptics in their Hearts:
For when they're cast into a Lump,
Their Talents equally must jump;
As Metals mixt, the rich and base
Do both at equal Values pass.

With these the ord'nary Debate
Was after News, and Things of State,
Which Way the dreadful Comet went
In sixty-four, and what it meant?
What Nations yet are to bewail
The Operation of its Tail;
Or whether France, or Holland yet,
Or Germany be in its Debt?
What Wars and Plagues in Christendom
Have happened since, and what to come?
What Kings are dead, how many Queens
And Princesses are poison'd since;
And who shall next of all by Turn
Make Courts wear black, and Tradesmen mourn?
What Parties next of Foot, or Horse
Will rout, or routed be of Course?
What German Marches, and Retreats
Will furnish the next Month's Gazettes?
What pestilent Contagion next,
And what Part of the World infects?
What dreadful Meteor, and where
Shall in the Heavens next appear;
And when again shall lay Embargo
Upon the Admiral, the good Ship Argo?

Why Currents turn in Seas of Ice
Some thrice a Day, and some but twice;
And why the Tides at Night and Noon
Court, like Caligula, the Moon?
What is the nat'ral Cause why Fish,
That always drink, do never piss;
Or whether in their Home the Deep
By Night or Day they ever sleep?
If Grass be green, or Snow be white,
But only as they take the Light?
Whether Possessions of the Devil,
Or mere Temptations do most evil?
What is't, that makes all Fountains still
Within the Earth to run up Hill;
But on the Outside down again,
As if th' Attempt had been in vain?
Or what's the strange magnetic Cause,
The Steel or Loadstone's drawn, or draws,
The Star, the Needle, which the Stone
Has only been but touch'd upon?
Whether the North-Star's Influence
With both does hold Intelligence;
(For red-hot Ir'n, held tow'rds the Pole,
Turns of it self to't, when 'tis cool)
Or whether Male and Female screws
In th' Ir'n and Stone th' Effect produce?
What makes the Body of the Sun,
That such a rapid Course does run,
To draw no Tail behind through th' Air,
As Comets do, when they appear,
Which other Planets cannot do,
Because they do not burn, but glow?
Whether the Moon be Sea, or Land,
Or Charcoal, or a quench'd Firebrand;
Or if the dark Holes that appear,
Are only Pores, not Cities there?
Whether the Atmosphere turn round,
And keep a just Pace with the Ground;
Or loiter lazily behind,
And clog the Air with Gusts of Wind?

Or whether Crescents in the Wane
(For so an Author had it plain)
Do burn quite out, or wear away
Their Snuffs upon the Edge of Day?
Whether the Sea increase, or waste,
And, if it do, how long 'twill last;
Or if the Sun approaches near
The Earth, how soon it will be there?

These were their learned Speculations
And all their constant Occupations;
To measure Wind, and weigh the Air,
And turn a Circle to a Square;
To make a Powder of the Sun,
By which all Doctors should b' undone
To find the North-west Passage out,
Although the farthest Way about;
If Chymists from a Rose's Ashes
Can raise the Rose itself in Glasses;
Whether the Line of Incidence
Rise from the Object, or the Sense?
To stew th' Elixir in a Bath
Of Hope, Credulity, and Faith;
To explicate by subtle Hints
The Grain of Diamonds and Flints,
And in the Braying of an Ass
Find out the Treble and the Base;
If Mares neigh alto, and a Cow
A double Diapason low.

[OMITTED]

SATYR UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN

Who would believe, that wicked Earth,
Where Nature only brings us forth,
To be found guilty, and forgiven,
Should be a Nursery for Heaven;
When all, we can expect to do,
Will not pay half the Debt we owe,
And yet more desperately dare,
As if that wretched Trifle were
Too much for the eternal Pow'rs,
Our great and mighty Creditors,
Not only slight what they enjoin,
But pay it in adulterate Coin?
We only in their Mercy trust,
To be more wicked and unjust:
All our Devotions, Vows, and Pray'rs
Are our own Interest, not theirs:
Our Off'rings, when we come t' adore,
But begging Presents, to get more:
The purest Business of our Zeal
Is but to err, by meaning well,
And make that Meaning do more harm,
Than our worst Deeds, that are less warm:
For the most wretched and perverse
Does not believe himself, he errs.

Our holy'st Actions have been
Th' Effects of Wickedness and Sin;
Religious Houses made Compounders
For th' horrid Actions of the Founders;
Steeples, that totter'd in the Air,
By Letchers sin'd into Repair;
As if we had retain'd no Sign,
Nor Character of the divine
And heav'nly Part of human Nature,
But only the coarse earthy Matter.
Our universal Inclination
Tends to the worst of our Creation,

As if the Stars conspir'd t' imprint
In our whole Species, by Instinct,
A fatal Brand, and Signature
Of nothing else, but the Impure.
The best of all our Actions tend
To the preposterousest End,
And, like to Mungrels, we're inclin'd
To take most to th' ignobler Kind;
Or Monsters, that have always least
Of th' human Parent, not the Beast.
Hence 'tis we've no Regard at all
Of our best half Original;
But, when they differ, still assert
The Int'rest of th' ignobler Part;
Spend all the Time we have upon
The vain Capriches of the one,
But grudge to spare one Hour, to know
What to the better Part we owe.
As in all compound Substances
The greater still devours the less;
So, being born and bred up near
Our earthy gross Relations here,
Far from the ancient nobler Place
Of all our high paternal Race,
We now degenerate, and grow
As barbarous, and mean, and low,
As modern Grecians are, and worse,
To their brave nobler Ancestors.
Yet, as no Barbarousness beside
Is half so barbarous as Pride,
Nor any prouder Insolence
Than that, which has the least Pretence,
We are so wretched, to profess
A Glory in our Wretchedness;
To vapour sillily, and rant
Of our own Misery, and Want,
And grow vain-glorious on a Score,
We ought much rather to deplore,
Who, the first Moment of our Lives,
Are but condemn'd, and giv'n Reprieves;

And our great'st Grace is not to know,
When we shall pay 'em back, nor how,
Begotten with a vain Caprich,
And live as vainly to that Pitch.

Our Pains are real Things, and all
Our Pleasures but fantastical;
Diseases of their own Accord,
But Cures come difficult and hard;
Our noblest Piles, and stateliest Rooms
Are but Out-houses to our Tombs;
Cities, though e're so great and brave,
But mere Ware-houses to the Grave;
Our Bravery's but a vain Disguise,
To hide us from the World's dull Eyes,
The Remedy of a Defect,
With which our Nakedness is deckt;
Yet makes us swell with Pride, and boast,
As if w' had gain'd by being lost.

All this is nothing to the Evils,
Which Men, and their confed'rate Devils
Inflict, to aggravate the Curse
On their own hated Kind, much worse;
As if by Nature th' had been serv'd
More gently, than their Fate deserv'd,
Take pains (in Justice) to invent,
And study their own Punishment;
That, as their Crimes should greater grow,
So might their own Inflictions too.
Hence bloody Wars at first began,
The artificial Plague of Man,
That from his own Invention rise,
To scourge his own Iniquities;
That if the Heav'ns should chance to spare
Supplies of constant poison'd Air,
They might not, with unfit Delay,
For lingering Destruction stay;
Nor seek Recruits of Death so far,
But plague themselves with Blood and War.

And if these fail, there is no good,
Kind Nature ere on Man bestow'd,

But he can easily divert
To his own Misery and Hurt;
Make that, which Heaven meant to bless
Th' ungrateful World with, gentle Peace
With Luxury and Excess, as fast
As War and Desolation, waste;
Promote Mortality, and kill,
As fast as Arms, by sitting still;
Like Earthquakes slay without a Blow,
And only moving overthrow;
Make Law and Equity as dear,
As Plunder and Free-quarter were,
And fierce Encountres at the Bar
Undo as fast, as those in War;
Enrich Bawds, Whores, and Usurers,
Pimps, Scriv'ners, silenc't Ministers,
That get Estates by being undone
For tender Conscience, and have none;
Like those, that with their Credit drive
A Trade without a Stock, and thrive;
Advance Men in the Church and State
For being of the meanest Rate,
Rais'd for their double-guil'd deserts,
Before Integrity and Parts;
Produce more grievious Complaints
For Plenty, than before for Wants,
And make a rich and fruitful Year
A greater Grievance, than a dear;
Make Jests of greater Dangers far,
Than those they trembl'd at in War;
Till, unawares, they've laid a Train
To blow the Publick up again;
Rally with Horror, and in Sport
Rebellion and Destruction court,
And make Fanatics, in Despight
Of all their Madness, reason right,
And vouch to all they have foreshown,
As other Monsters oft have done.
Although from Truth and Sense as far,
As all their other Maggots are:

For Things said false, and never meant,
Do oft prove true by accident.

That Wealth, that bounteous Fortune sends
As presents to her dearest Friends,
Is oft laid out upon a Purchase
Of two Yards long in Parish Churches;
And those too happy Men that bought it,
Had liv'd, and happier too, without it.
For what does vast Wealth bring, but Cheat,
Law, Luxury, Disease, and Debt,
Pain, Pleasure, Discontent, and Sport
An easy-troubled Life, and short?

But all these Plagues are nothing near
Those far more cruel and severe,
Unhappy Man takes Pains to find,
T' inflict himself upon his Mind;
And out of his own Bowels spins
A Rack and Torture for his Sins:
Torments himself, in vain, to know
That most, which he can never do;
And the more strictly 'tis denied,
The more he is unsatisfied;
Is busy in finding Scruples out,
To languish in eternal Doubt,
Sees Spectres in the Dark, and Ghosts,
And starts, as Horses do at Posts;
And, when his Eyes assist him least,
Discerns such subtle Objects best:
On hypothetic Dreams and Visions
Grounds everlasting Disquisitions,
And raises endless Controversies
On vulgar Theorems and Hearsays:
Grows positive and confident
In Things so far beyond th' Extent
Of human Sense, he does not know,
Whether they be at all, or no;
And doubts as much in Things, that are
As plainly evident, and clear:
Disdains all useful Sense, and plain,
T' apply to th' Intricate and Vain;

And cracks his Brains in plodding on
That, which is never to be known;
To pose himself with Subtleties,
And hold no other Knowledge wise;
Although, the subtler all Things are,
They're but to nothing the more near:
And the less Weight they can sustain,
The more he still lays on in vain;
And hangs his Soul upon as nice
And subtle Curiosities,
As one of that vast Multitude,
That on a Needle's Point have stood:
Weighs right and wrong, and true and false
Upon as nice and subtle Scales,
As those that turn upon a Plane
With th' hundredth Part of half a Grain;
And still the subt[i]ler they move,
The sooner false and useless prove.
So Man, that thinks to force and strain
Beyond its natural Sphere his Brain,
In vain torments it on the Rack,
And, for improving, sets it back;
Is ign'rant of his own Extent,
And that to which his Aims are bent,
Is lost in both, and breaks his Blade
Upon the Anvil, where 'twas made:
For as Abortions cost more Pain
Than vig'rous Births; so all the vain
And weak Productions of Man's Wit,
That aim at Purposes unfit,
Require more Drudgery, and worse
Than those of strong and lively Force.

SATYR UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES THE 2D

'Tis a strange Age we've liv'd in, and a lewd
As 'ere the Sun in all his Travels view'd;
An Age as vile, as ever Justice urg'd,
Like a fantastic Letcher, to be scourg'd:
Nor has it scap'd, and yet has only learn'd,
The more 'tis plagu'd to be the less concern'd.
Twice have we seen two dreadful Judgments rage,
Enough to fright the stubborn'st-hearted Age;
The one to mow vast Crowds of People down,
The other (as then needless) half the Town;
And two as mighty Miracles restore,
What both had ruin'd and destroy'd before:
In all as unconcern'd, as if th' had been
But Pastimes for Diversion to be seen.
Or, like the Plagues of Ægypt, meant a Curse,
Not to reclaim us, but to make us worse.

Twice have Men turn'd the World (that silly Blockhead!)
The wrong Side outward, like a Jugler's Pocket,
Shook out Hypocrisy, as fast and loose,
As e're the Dev'l could teach, or Sinners use,
And on the other Side at once put in
As impotent Iniquity, and Sin.
As Sculls, that have been crack'd, are often found
Upon the wrong Side to receive the Wound,
And, like Tobacco-pipes at one End hit,
To break at th' other still that's opposite:
So Men, who one Extravagance would shun,
Into the contrary Extreme have run;
And all the Difference is, that, as the first
Provokes the other Freak to prove the worst;
So, in return, that strives to render less
The last Delusion, with its own Excess;
And, like two unskill'd Gamesters, use one Way
With bungling t' help out one another's Play.
For those, who heretofore sought private Holes,
Securely in the Dark to damn their Souls,

Wore Vizards of Hypocrisy, to steal
And slink away, in Masquerade, to Hell,
Now bring their Crimes into the open Sun,
For all Mankind to gaze their worst upon,
As Eagles try their Young against his Rays,
To prove, if they're of generous Breed, or base;
Call Heav'n and Earth to witness, how they've aim'd
With all their utmost Vigour to be damn'd,
And by their own Examples, in the View
Of all the World, striv'd to damn others too:
On all Occasions sought to be as civil,
As possible they cou'd, t' his Grace the Devil,
To give him unnecessary Trouble,
Nor in small Matters use a Friend so noble,
But with their constant Practice done their best
T' improve, and propagate his Interest.
For Men have now made Vice so great an Art,
The matter of Fact's become the slightest Part;
And the debauched'st Actions they can do,
Mere Trifles, to the Circumstance and Show.
For 'tis not what they do, that's now the Sin,
But what they lewdly affect, and glory in;
As if prepost'rously they would profess
A forc'd Hypocrisy of Wickedness:
And Affectation, that makes good Things bad,
Must make affected Shame accurst, and mad;
For Vices for themselves may find Excuse,
But never for their Complement, and Shews.
That, if there ever were a Mystery
Of moral secular Iniquity,
And that the Churches may not lose their Due
By being encroach'd upon, 'tis now, and new.
For Men are now as scrupulous, and nice,
And tender-conscienc'd of low paltry Vice,
Disdain as proudly to be thought to have
To do in any Mischief, but the brave,
As the most scrup'lous Zealot of late Times
T' appear in any, but the horrid'st Crimes;
Have as precise and strict Punctilios
Now to appear, as then to make no Shows;

And steer the World by disagreeing Force
Of diff'rent Customs 'gainst her nat'ral Course.
So pow'rful's ill Example to incroach,
And Nature, spite of all her Laws, debauch;
Example, that imperious Dictator
Of all that's good, or bad to human Nature;
By which the World's corrupted, and reclaim'd,
Hopes to be sav'd, and studies to be damn'd;
That reconciles all Contrarieties,
Makes Wisdom Foolishness, and Folly wise,
Imposes on Divinity, and sets
Her Seal alike on Truths, and Counterfeits;
Alters all Characters of Virtue and Vice,
And passes one for th' other in Disguise,
Makes all Things, as it pleases, understood,
The Good receiv'd for Bad, and Bad for Good;
That slyly counter-changes Wrong and Right,
Like white in Fields of black, and black in white,
As if the Laws of Nature had been made
Of purpose, only to be disobey'd;
Or Man had lost his mighty Interest,
By having been distinguish'd from a Beast;
And had no other Way but Sin and Vice,
To be restor'd again to Paradise.

How copious is our Language lately grown,
To make blaspheming Wit, and a Jargon?
And yet how expressive and significant,
In Damme at once to curse, and swear, and rant?
As if no way exprest Mens Souls so well,
As damning of them to the Pit of Hell;
Nor any Asseveration were so civil,
As mortgaging Salvation to the Devil;
Or that his Name did add a charming Grace,
And Blasphemy a Purity to our Phrase.
For what can any Language more enrich,
Than to pay Souls for vitiating Speech;
When the great'st Tyrant in the World made those
But lick their Words out, that abus'd his Prose?
What trivial Punishments did then protect
To publick Censure a profound Respect,

When the most shameful Penance and severe,
That could b' inflicted on a Cavaliere
For infamous Debauch'ry, was no worse,
Than but to be degraded from his Horse,
And have his Livery of Oats and Hay,
Instead of cutting Spurs off, ta'n away?
They held no Torture then so great as Shame,
And, that to slay was less than to defame;
For just so much regard, as Men express
To th' censure of the Publick, more or less,
The same will be return'd to them again,
In Shame or Reputation, to a Grain:
And, how perverse so'ere the World appears,
'Tis just to all the Bad it sees, and hears.
And, for that Virtue, strives to be allow'd
For all the Injuries, it does the Good.

How silly were their Sages heretofore
To fright their Heroes with a Syren-Whore?
Make 'em believe a Water-witch with Charms
Could sink their Men of War, as easy as Storms,
And turn their Mariners, that heard them sing,
Into Land-porpusses, and Cod, and Ling;
To terrify those mighty Champions,
As we do Children now with Bloody-bones;
Until the subtlest of their Conjurors
Seal'd up the Labels to his Soul, his Ears,
And ty'd his deafen'd Sailors (while he pass'd
The dreadful Lady's Lodgings) to the Mast,
And rather venture drowning, than to wrong
The Sea-pugs chaste Ears with a bawdy Song:
To b' out of Countenance, and like an Ass,
Not pledge the Lady Circe one Beer-glass;
Unmannerly refuse her Treat and Wine,
For fear of being turn'd into a Swine;
When one of our heroic Advent'rers now
Would drink her down, and turn her int' a Sow.

So simple were those Times, when a grave Sage
Could with an Oldwive's-Tale instruct the Age;
Teach Virtue, more fantastick Ways and nice,
Than ours will now endure t' improve in vice,

Made a dull Sentence, and a moral Fable
Do more, than all our Holdings-forth are able;
A forc'd obscure Mythology convince,
Beyond our worst Inflictions upon Sins.
When an old Proverb, or an End of Verse
Could more, than all our Penal Laws, coerce;
And keep Men honester than all our Furies
Of Jailors, Judges, Constables, and Juries;
Who were converted then with an old Saying,
Better than all our Preaching now, and praying.
What Fops had these been, had they liv'd with us,
Where the best Reason's made ridiculous;
And all the plain and sober Things we say,
By Raillery are put beside their Play?
For Men are grown above all Knowledge now,
And, what they're ignorant of, disdain to know;
Engross Truth (like Fanatics) underhand,
And boldly judge, before they understand,
The self-same Courses equally advance
In spiritual, and carnal Ignorance;
And, by the same Degrees of Confidence,
Become impregnable against all Sense;
For, as they outgrew Ordinances then,
So would they now Morality agen.
Tho' Drudgery and Knowledge are of Kin,
And both descended from one Parent Sin;
And therefore seldom have been known to part,
In tracing out the Ways of Truth, and Art;
Yet they have North-west Passages to steer
A short Way to it, without Pains or Care.
For, as implicit Faith is far more stiff,
Than that which understands its own Belief;
So those, that think, and do but think, they know,
Are far more obstinate, than those that do,
And more averse, than if they'd ne'er been taught
A wrong Way, to a right one to be brought;
Take Boldness upon Credit beforehand,
And grow too positive to understand;
Believe themselves as knowing, and as famous,
As if their Gifts had gotten a Mandamus,

A Bill of Store to take up a Degree,
With all the Learning to it, Custom-free;
And look as big, for what they bought at Court,
As if they'd done their Exercises for't.

SATYR UPON GAMING

What Fool would trouble Fortune more,
When she has been too kind before;
Or tempt her to take back again,
What she had thrown away in vain;
By idly vent'ring her good Graces
To be dispos'd of by Alms-Aces;
Or settling it in Trust to Uses,
Out of his Pow'r, on Trays and Deuses:
To put it to the Chance, and try,
I' th' Ballot of a Box and Dye,
Whether his Money be his own,
And lose it, if he be o'erthrown;
As if he were betray'd, and set
By his own Stars to every Cheat,
Or wretchedly condemn'd by Fate
To throw Dice for his own Estate;
As Mutineers, by fatal Doom,
Do for their Lives upon a Drum?
For what less Influence can produce,
So great a Monster as a Chowse;
Or any two-leg'd Thing possess
With such a brutish Sottishness?
Unless those tutelary Stars,
Intrusted by Astrologers
To have the Charge of Man, combin'd
To use him in the self-same Kind;
As those, that help'd them to the Trust,
Are wont to deal with others just.
For to become so sadly dull
And stupid, as to fine for Gull,
(Not, as in Cities, to b' excus'd,
But to be judg'd fit to be us'd)
That, whoso'ere can draw it in
Is sure inevitably t' win;
And, with a curs'd half-witted Fate,
To grow more dully desperate,

The more 'tis made a common Prey,
And cheated foppishly at Play,
Is their Condition: Fate betrays
To Folly first, and then destroys.
For what, but Miracles, can serve
So great a Madness to preserve;
As his, that ventures Goods and Chattles
(Where there's no Quarter giv'n) in Battles,
And fights with Money-bags as bold,
As Men with Sand-bags did of old:
Puts Lands, and Tenements, and Stocks
Into a paultry Jugler's Box;
And, like an Alderman of Gotham,
Embarketh in so vile a Bottom:
Engages blind and senseless Hap
'Gainst High, and Low, and Slur and Knap,
(As Tartars with a Man of Straw
Encounter Lions, Hand to Paw)
With those, that never venture more,
Than they had safely 'nsur'd before;
Who, when they knock the Box and shake,
Do, like the Indian Rattle-Snake,
But strive to ruin, and destroy
Those that mistake it for fair Play:
That have their Fulhams at command,
Brought up to do their Feats at hand;
That understand their Calls and Knocks,
And how to place themselves i' th' Box;
Can tell the Oddses of all Games,
And when to answer to their Names;
And, when he conjures them t' appear,
Like Imps are ready every where;
When to play foul, and when run fair
(Out of Design) upon the Square;
And let the greedy Cully win,
Only to draw him further in:
While those, with which he idly plays,
Have no regard to what he says;
Although he Jernie and blaspheme,
When they miscarry, Heav'n and them;

And damn his Soul, and swear, and curse,
And crucify his Saviour worse
Than those Jew-Troopers, that threw out,
When they were raffling for his Coat;
Denounce Revenge, as if they heard,
And rightly understood, and fear'd,
And would take heed another Time,
How to commit so bold a Crime;
When the poor Bones are innocent
Of all he did, or said or meant,
And have as little Sense almost,
As he that damns them, when h' has lost:
As if he had rely'd upon
Their Judgement, rather than his own;
And that it were their Fault, not his,
That manag'd them himself amiss:
And gave them ill Instructions, how
To run, as he would have them do,
And then condemns them sillily
For having no more Wit than he.

SATYR UPON OUR RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH

Who would not rather get him gone
Beyond th' intolerablest Zone;
Or steer his Passage through those Seas,
That burn in Flames, or those that freeze,
Than see one Nation go to School,
And learn of another, like a Fool?
To study all its Tricks and Fashions
With epidemic Affectations;
And dare to wear no Mode or Dress,
But what they, in their Wisdom, please;
As Monkies are, by being taught
To put on Gloves and Stockings, caught:
Submit to all that they devise,
As if it wore their Liveries;
Make ready and dress th' Imagination,
Not with the Cloaths, but with the Fashion;
And change it, to fulfil the Curse
Of Adam's Fall, for new, though worse;
To make their Britches fall and rise
From middle Legs to middle Thighs,
The Tropics between which the Hose
Move always as the Fashion goes:
Sometimes wear Hats like Pyramids,
And sometimes flat like Pipkin's Lids
With broad Brims sometimes like Umbrellas,
And sometimes narrow as Punchinello's:
In coldest Weather go unbrac't,
And close in hot, as if th' were lac't:
Sometimes with Sleeves and Bodies wide,
And sometimes straiter than a Hide:
Wear Peruques, and with false grey Hairs
Disguise the true ones, and their Years;
That, when they're modish, with the young
The old may seem so in the Throng:
And as some Pupils have been known,
In time to put their Tutors down;

So ours are often found t' have got
More Tricks, than ever they were taught:
With sly Intrigues and Artifices
Usurp their Poxes, and their Vices;
With Garnitures upon their Shoes,
Make good their Claim to gouty Toes;
By sudden Starts, and Shrugs, and Groans
Pretend to Aches in their Bones,
To Scabs and Botches, and lay Trains
To prove their Running of the Reins;
And, lest they should seem destitute
Of any Mange, that's in Repute,
And be behind hand with the Mode
Will swear to Chrystallin and Node;
And, that they may not lose their Right,
Make it appear how they came by't:
Disdain the Country, where th' were born,
As Bastards their own Mothers scorn;
And that which brought them forth contemn,
As it deserves for bearing them:
Admire whate'er they find abroad,
But nothing here, though e'er so good.
Be Natives wheresoe'er they come,
And only Foreigners at home;
To which th' appear so far estrang'd,
As if th' had been i' th' Cradle chang'd;
Or from beyond the Seas convey'd
By Witches—not born here, but laid;
Or by outlandish fathers were
Begotten on their Mothers here,
And therefore justly slight that Nation,
Where th' have so mungrel a Relation;
And seek out other Climates, where
They may degenerate less than here;
As Woodcocks, when their Plumes are grown,
Born on the Winds Wings and their own,
Forsake the Countries, where th' are hatcht,
And seek out others, to be catcht:
So they more nat'rally may please
And humor their own Geniuses,

Apply to all Things, which they see
With their own Fancies best agree;
No matter how ridiculous,
'Tis all one, if it be in use;
For nothing can be bad or good,
But as 'tis in or out of Mode;
And as the Nations are that use it,
All ought to practise, or refuse it:
T' observe their postures, move, and stand
As they give out the Word o' Command;
To learn the dullest of their Whims
And how to wear their very Limbs;
To turn and manage every Part,
Like Puppets, by their Rules of Art;
To shrug discreetly, act, and tread,
And politicly shake the Head,
Until the Ignorant (that guess
At all Things by th' Appearances)
To see how Art and Nature strive,
Believe them really alive,
And that th' are very Men, not Things
That move by Puppet-work and Springs;
When truly all their Feats have been
As well perform'd by Motion-men,
And the worst Drols of Punchinellos
Were much th' ingeniouser Fellows;
For, when they're perfect in their Lesson,
Th' Hypothesis grows out of Season,
And, all their Labour lost, they're fain
To learn new, and begin again:
To talk eternally and loud,
And altogether in a Crowd,
No matter what, for in the Noise
No Man minds what another says:
T' assume a Confidence beyond
Mankind, for solid and profound;
And still the less and less they know,
The greater Dose of that allow:
Decry all Things; for to be wise
Is not to know, but to despise,

And deep judicious Confidence
Has still the Odds of Wit and Sense,
And can pretend a Title to
Far greater Things than they can do:
T' adorn their English with French Scraps,
And give their very Language Claps;
To Jernie rightly, and renounce
I' th' pure and most approv'd of Tones,
And, while they idly think t' enrich,
Adulterate their native Speech;
For though to smatter Ends of Greek,
Or Latin be the Rhetorique
Of Pedants counted, and vain-glorious,
To smatter French is meritorious;
And to forget their Mother-Tongue,
Or purposely to speak it wrong,
A hopeful Sign of Parts and Wit,
And that th' improve and benefit;
As those, that have been taught amiss
In liberal Arts and Sciences,
Must all th' had learnt before in vain
Forget quite, and begin again.

SATYR UPON DRUNKENNESS

'Tis pity Wine, which Nature meant
To Man in Kindness to present;
And gave him kindly to caress,
And cherish his frail Happiness,
Of equal Virtue to renew
His wearied Mind, and Body too,
Should (like the Cyder-tree in Eden,
Which only grew, to be forbidden)
No sooner come to be enjoy'd,
But th' Owner's fatally destroy'd;
And that, which she for Good design'd,
Becomes the Ruin of Mankind,
That for a little vain Excess
Runs out of all its Happiness,
And makes the Friend of Truth and Love
Their greatest Adversary prove;
T' abuse a Blessing she bestow'd
So truly essential to his Good;
To countervail his pensive Cares,
And slavish Drudgery of Affairs;
To teach him Judgment, Wit, and Sense,
And, more than all these, Confidence;
To pass his Times of Recreation
In choice and noble Conversation,
Catch Truth and Reason unawares,
As Men do Health in wholesome Airs;
(While Fools their Conversants possess
As unawares with Sottishness)
To gain Access a private Way
To Man's best Sense, by his own Key,
Which painful Judgers strive in vain
By any other Course t' obtain;
To pull off all Disguise, and view
Things as th' are natural, and true;
Discover Fools and Knaves, allow'd
For wise and honest in the Crowd;

With innocent and virtuous Sport
Make short Days long, and long Nights short,
And Mirth the only Antidote
Against Diseases, ere th' are got;
To save Health harmless from th' Access
Both of the Med'cine, and Disease;
Or make it help itself, secure
Against the desperat'st Fit, the Cure.

All these sublime Prerogatives
Of Happiness to human Lives
He vainly throws away, and slights
For Madness, Noise, and bloody Fights;
When nothing can decide, but Swords
And Pots, the Right or Wrong of Words,
Like Princes Titles; and he's outed
The Justice of his Cause, that's routed.

No sooner has a Charge been sounded,
With—Son of a Whore, and—damn'd confounded
And the bold Signal giv'n, the Lye,
But instantly the Bottles fly;
Where Cups and Glasses are small Shot,
And Cannon-ball a Pewter-pot.
That Blood, that's hardly in the Vein,
Is now remanded back again;
Tho' sprung from Wine of the same Piece,
And near a-kin, within Degrees,
Strives to commit Assassinations
On its own natural Relations;
And those Twin-spirits so kind-hearted,
That from their Friends so lately parted,
No sooner several Ways are gone,
But by themselves are set upon,
Surpriz'd like Brother against Brother,
And put to th' Sword by one another:
So much more fierce are civil Wars,
Than those between mere Foreigners;
And Man himself with Wine possest
More savage than the wildest Beast.
For Serpents, when they meet to water,
Lay by their Poyson and their Nature:

And fiercest Creatures, that repair,
In thirsty Desarts, to their rare
And distant River's Banks to drink,
In Love and close Alliance link,
And from their Mixture of strange Seeds
Produce new, never heard of Breeds,
To whom the fiercer Unicorn
Begins a large Health with his Horn;
As Cuckolds put their Antidotes,
When they drink Coffee, into th' Pots.
While Man, with raging Drink inflam'd,
Is far more savage and untam'd;
Supplies his Loss of Wit and Sense
With Barbarousness and Insolence;
Believes himself, the less he's able
The more heroic and formidable;
Lays by his Reason in his Bowls,
As Turks are said to do their Souls,
Until it has so often been
Shut out of its Lodging, and let in,
At length it never can attain
To find the right Way back again;
Drinks all his Time away, and prunes
The End of 's Life, as Vignerons
Cut short the Branches of a Vine,
To make it bear more Plenty o' Wine;
And that, which Nature did intend
T' enlarge his Life, perverts t' its End.

So Noah, when he anchor'd safe on
The Mountain's Top, his lofty Haven,
And all the Passengers, he bore,
Were on the new World set ashore,
He made it next his chief Design
To plant, and propagate a Vine,
Which since has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater Numbers, on dry Ground,
Of wretched Mankind, one by one,
Than all the Flood before had done.

SATYR UPON MARRIAGE

Sure Marriages were never so well fitted,
As when to Matrimony Men were committed,
Like Thieves, by Justices; and to a Wife
Bound, like to good Behaviour, during Life:
For then 'twas but a civil Contract made,
Between two Partners, that set up a Trade;
And if both fail'd, there was no Conscience,
Nor Faith invaded, in the strictest Sense;
No Canon of the Church, nor Vow was broke,
When Men did free their gall'd Necks from the Yoke;
But when they tir'd, like other horned Beasts,
Might have it taken off, and take their Rests,
Without b'ing bound in Duty to shew Cause,
Or reckon with divine, or human Laws.

For since, what use of Matrimony has been,
But to make Galantry a greater Sin?
As if there were no Appetite, nor Gust,
Below Adultery, in modish Lust;
Or no Debauchery were exquisite,
Until it has attain'd its perfect Height.
For Men do now take Wives to nobler Ends,
Not to bear Children, but to bear 'em Friends,
Whom nothing can oblige at such a Rate,
As these endearing Offices of late.
For Men are now grown wise, and understand
How to improve their Crimes, as well as Land;
And if th' have Issue, make the Infants pay
Down for their own Begetting on the Day,
The Charges of the Gossiping disburse,
And pay beforehand (ere they're born) the Nurse;
As he that got a Monster on a Cow,
Out of Design of setting up a Show.
For why should not the Brats for all account,
As well as for the Christ'ning at the Fount,
When those that stand for them, lay down the Rate
O' th' Banquet and the Priest, in Spoons and Plate?

The antient Romans made the State allow,
For getting all Men's Children above two:
Then married Men to propagate the Breed,
Had great Rewards for what they never did,
Were privileg'd, and highly honour'd too,
For owning what their Friends were fain to do;
For, so th' had Children, they regarded not
By whom (good Men) or how they were begot.
To borrow Wives (like Money) or to lend,
Was then the civil Office of a Friend,
And he, that made a Scruple in the Case,
Was held a miserable Wretch, and base;
For when th' had Children by 'em, th' honest Men
Return'd 'em to their Husbands back agen.
Then for th' Encouragement and Propagation
Of such a great Concernment to the Nation,
All People were so full of Complacence,
And civil Duty to the public Sense,
They had no Name t' express a Cuckold then,
But that which signify'd all married Men;
Nor was the Thing accounted a Disgrace,
Unless among the dirty Populace,
And no Man understands on what account
Less civil Nations after hit upon't:
For to be known a Cuckold can be no
Dishonour, but to him that thinks it so;
For, if he feel no Shagrin, or Remorse,
His Forehead's shot-free, and he's ne'er the worse,
For Horns (like horny Calluses) are found
To grow on Sculls, that have receiv'd a Wound,
Are crackt, and broken; not at all on those
That are invulnerate, and free from Blows.
What a brave Time had Cuckold-makers then,
When they were held the worthiest of Men,
The real Fathers of the Commonwealth,
That planted Colonies in Rome itself?
When he, that help'd his Neighbours, and begot
Most Romans, was the noblest Patriot.
For, if a brave Man, that preserv'd from Death
One Citizen, was honour'd with a Wreath;

He, that more gallantly got three or four,
In Reason must deserve a great deal more.
Then, if those glorious Worthies of old Rome,
That civiliz'd the World th' had overcome,
And taught it Laws and Learning, found this Way
The best to save their Empire from Decay;
Why should not these, that borrow all the Worth
They have from them, not take this Lesson forth,
Get Children, Friends, and Honour too, and Money
By prudent managing of Matrimony?
For, if 'tis honourable by all confest,
Adultery must be worshipful at least;
And these Times great, when private Men are come
Up to the Height and Politic of Rome.
All By-blows were not only free-born then,
But like John Lilborn, free-begotten Men;
Had equal Right and Privilege with these,
That claim by Title of the four Seas.
For being in Marri'ge born, it matters not,
After what Liturgy they were begot;
And if there be a Difference, they have
Th' Advantage of the Chance in proving brave,
By b'ing engender'd with more Life and Force,
Than those begotten the dull Way of Course.

The Chinese place all Piety and Zeal,
In serving with their Wives the Commonweal,
Fix all their Hopes of Merit, and Salvation,
Upon their Women's Supererogation,
With solemn Vows their Wives and Daughters bind,
Like Eve in Paradise, to all Mankind;
And those, that can produce the most Gallants,
Are held the pretiousest of all their Saints,
Wear Rosaries about their Necks to con
Their Exercise of Devotion on;
That serve them for Certificates to show,
With what vast Numbers they have had to do:
Before th' are marry'd, make a Conscience
T' omit no Duty of Incontinence;
And she, that has been oftenest prostituted,
Is worthy of the greatest Match reputed.

But, when the conqu'ring Tartar went about
To root this orthodox Religion out,
They stood for Conscience, and resolv'd to dye,
Rather than change the antient Purity
Of that Religion, which their Ancestors,
And they had prosper'd in so many Years;
Vow'd to their Gods to sacrifice their Lives;
And dye their Daughters Martyrs, and their Wives,
Before they would commit so great a Sin
Against the Faith they had been bred up in.

UPON CRITICS Who judge of MODERN PLAYS Precisely by the RULES of the ANTIENTS

Who ever wil Regard Poetique Fury,
When it is once found Idiot by a Jury?
And evry Peart, and Arbitrary Fool
Can all Poetique Licence over-Rule?
Assume a Barbrous Tyranny, to Handle
The Muses, worse then Ostro-goth, or Vandal?
Make 'em submit to verdict and Report
And stand (or Fall) to th' orders of a Court.
Much lesse, Be sentenc'd by the Arbitra[r]y
Proceedings of a witless Plagiary
That forge's old Records, and Ordinances
Against the Right and Property of Fancys
More False, and Nice, then weighing of the weather
To th' Hundredth Atom, of the lightest Feather,
Or measuring of Aire upon Pernassus
With Cilinders of Torricellian Glasses;
Reduce all Tragedy by Rules of Art
Back, to its Antique Theater, a Cart,
And make 'em hence forth keep the beaten Roades
Of Reverend Choruses, and Episodes;
Reforme and Regulate a Puppet-Play
According to the tru and antient way:
That not an Actor shal Presume to Squeek
Unless he hav a Licence for't, in Greek;
Nor Whittington Henceforward, sel his Cat in
Plaine vulgar English, without Mewing Latin:
No Pudding shalbe sufferd to be witty
Unles it be in Order to Raise Pitty;

Nor Devil in the Puppet-play, b' allowd
To Rore and Spit fire, but to fright the Crowd,
Unless some God, or Dev'l chance t' have Piques
Against an Antient Family of Greeks;
Others may have Leave to tremble, and take warning,
How such a Fatal Progeny th' are Born in.
For none but such for Tragedy are fitted
That have been Ruind only to be Pittyd;
And only those held Proper to Deterre
Wh' have had th' Il Luck, against their wils to erre.
Whence only such as are of Midling Sizes
Between Morality and venial vices
Are Qualifyd to be Destroyd by Fate
For other Mortals to take warning at.

As if the Antique Laws of Tragedy
Did with our own Municipall agree
And servd like Cobwebs but t' insnare the weake
And give Diversion to the Great to break;
To make a lesse Delinquent to be brought
To Answer for a Greater Persons Fault
And suffer all the worst, the worst Approver
Can, to excuse, and save himself, Discover.

No longer shal Dramatiques be confind
To draw tru Images, of al Mankinde,
To Punish in Effigie Criminals,
Reprieve the Innocent, and hang the False;
But a Club-Law [to] execute, and kill,
For nothing, whom so ere they Please, at will:
To terrify Spectators from committing
The Crimes, they did, and sufferd for, unwitting.

These are the Reformations of the Stage,
Like other Reformations of the Age:
On Purpose to Destroy all wit and sense
As th' other did all Law, and Conscience.
No better then the Laws of British Plays
Confirmd in th' Antient good King Howels Days
Who made a Gen'ral Councel Regulate
Mens catching women by the—you know what,
And set down in the Rubrick, at what time
It should be counted Legal, when a Crime;

Declare when 'twas, and when 'twas not a sin
And on what days it went out, or came in.

An English Poet should be tryd b' his Peres
And not by Pedants, and Philosophers
Incompetent to Judge Poetique Fury,
As Butchers are forbid to b' of a Jury;
Beside the most Intollerable wrong
To try their Matter in a Forrain Tongue
By Forrain Jury men, like Sophocles
Or Tales falser then Euripides;
When not an English Native dares appear
To be a witnes for the Prisoner,
When all the Laws they use t' Arraigne, and try
The Innocent and wrongd Delinquent by
Were made b' a Forraine Laweyer and his Pupils
To put an End to all Poetique Scruples,
And by th' Advice of Virtuosi-Tuscans
Determind al the Doubts of Socks and Buskins;
Gave Judgment on all Past and Future Plays,
As is Apparent by Speronys Case,
Which Lope Vega first began to steale,
And after him the French Filou Corniele;
And since our English Plagiarys Nim
And steal their farfet Criticismes, from him,
And, by an Action falsly layd of Trover,
The Lumber, for their Proper Goods Recover;
Enough to furnish al the Lewd Impeachers
Of witty Beumonts Poetry, and Fletchers,
Who, for a few Misprisions of wit,
Are chargd by those, who ten times worse commit;
And for Misjudging some unhappy scenes
Are censurd for't, with more unlucky sense;
When all their worst miscarriages Delight
And please more then the Best, that Pedants write.

SATYR UPON PLAGIARIES

Why should the World be so averse
To Plagiary Privateers,
That all Mens Sense and Fancy seize,
And make free Prize of what they please?
As if, because they huff and swell,
Like Pilferers full of what they steal,
Others might equal Pow'r assume,
To pay 'em with as hard a Doom;
To shut them up, like Beasts in Pounds,
For breaking into others Grounds;
Mark 'em with Characters and Brands,
Like other Forgers of Mens Hands;
And in Effigie hand and draw
The poor Delinquents by Club-Law;
When no Inditement justly lies,
But where the Theft will bear a Price.

For though Wit never can be learn'd
It may b' assum'd and own'd, and earn'd;
And, like our noblest Fruits, improv'd,
By b'ing transplanted and remov'd:
And as it bears no certain Rate,
Nor pays one Peny to the State,
With which it turns no more t' account
Than Virtue, Faith, and Merit's wont;
Is neither Moveable, nor Rent,
Nor Chattel, Goods, nor Tenement;
Nor was it ever pass'd b' Entail,
Nor settled upon Heirs Male;
Or if it were, like ill-got Land,
Did never fall t' a second Hand;
So 'tis no more to be engross'd,
Than Sun-shine, or the Air inclos'd;
Or to Propriety confin'd,
Than th' uncontrol'd and scatter'd Wind.

For why should that which Nature meant
To owe its Being to its Vent;

That has no Value of its own,
But as it is divulg'd and known;
Is perishable and destroy'd,
As long as it lies unenjoy'd,
Be scanted of that lib'ral Use,
Which all Mankind is free to choose,
And idly hoarded, where 'twas bred,
Instead of being dispers'd and spread?
And the more lavish and profuse,
'Tis of the nobler general Use;
As Riots, though supply'd by Stealth,
Are wholesome to the Commonwealth;
And Men spend freelier what they win,
Than what th' have freely coming in.

The World's as full of curious Wit,
Which those, that father, never writ,
As 'tis of Bastards, which the Sot
And Cuckold owns, that ne'er begot;
Yet pass as well, as if the one
And th' other By-blow were their own.
For why should he that's impotent
To judge, and fancy, and invent,
For that Impediment be stopt
To own, and challenge, and adopt,
At least th' expos'd, and fatherless
Poor Orphans of the Pen, and Press,
Whose Parents are obscure, or dead,
Or in far Countries born and bred.

As none but Kings have Pow'r to raise
A Levy, which the Subject pays;
And, though they call that Tax a Loan,
Yet, when 'tis gather'd, 'tis their own:
So he, that's able to impose
A Wit-excise on Verse or Prose;
And, still the abler Authors are,
Can make them pay the greater Share,
Is Prince of Poets of his Time,
And they his Vassals, that supply him;
Can judge more justly of what he takes
Than any of the best he makes;

And more impartially conceive
What's fit to chuse, and what to leave.
For Men reflect more strictly upon
The sense of others, than their own;
And Wit, that's made of Wit and Slight,
Is richer than the plain downright:
As Salt, that's made of Salt's more fine,
Than when it first came from the Brine;
And Spirits of a nobler Nature,
Drawn from the dull ingredient Matter.

Hence mighty Virgil's said of old,
From Dung to have extracted Gold;
(As many a Lout and silly Clown,
By his Instructions since has done)
And grew more lofty by that means,
Than by his Livery Oats and Beans;
When from his Carts and Country Farms
He rose a mighty Man at Arms;
To whom th' Heroics ever since
Have sworn Allegiance as their Prince,
And faithfully have in all Times
Observ'd his Customs in their Rhimes.

'Twas counted Learning once and Wit
To void but what some Author writ;
And what Men understood by rote
By as implicit Sense to quote.
Then many a magisterial Clerk
Was taught, like singing Birds i' th' Dark;
And understood as much of Things,
As th' ablest Blackbird what it sings;
And yet was honour'd and renown'd,
For grave, and solid, and profound.
Then why should those, who pick and choose
The best of all the best compose,
And join it by Mosaic Art,
In graceful Order, Part to Part,
To make the whole in Beauty suit,
Not Merit as compleat Repute
As those, who with less Art and Pains
Can do it with their native Brains,

And make the home-spun Business fit
As freely with their Mother Wit?
Since what by Nature was deny'd
By Art and Industry's supply'd,
Both which are more our own, and brave
Than all the Alms, that Nature gave.
For what w' acquire by Pains and Art
Is only due t' our own Desert;
While all th' Endowments she confers,
Are not so much our own, as hers,
That, like good Fortune, unawares
Fall not t' our Virtue, but our Shares;
And all we can pretend to merit,
We do not purchase, but inherit.

Thus all the great'st Inventions, when
They first were found out, were so mean,
That th' Authors of them are unknown,
As little things they scorn'd to own;
Until by Men of nobler Thought
Th' were to their full Perfection brought.
This proves that Wit does but rough-hew,
Leaves Art to polish, and review;
And that a Wit at second Hand
Has greatest Int'rest and Command:
For to improve, dispose, and judge
Is nobler than t' invent, and drudge.

Invention's humorous and nice,
And never at Command applies;
Disdains t' obey the proudest Wit,
Unless it chance to b' in the Fit;
(Like Prophecy, that can presage
Successes of the latest Age,
Yet is not able to tell when
It next shall prophecy agen)
Makes all her Suitors course and wait
Like a proud Minister of State,
And, when she's serious in some Freak,
Extravagant, and vain, and weak,
Attend her silly, lazy Pleasure,
Until she chance to be at leisure:

When 'tis more easy to steal Wit;
To clip, and forge, and counterfeit,
Is both the Business and Delight,
Like hunting Sports, of those that write;
For Thievery is but one Sort,
The Learned say, of hunting Sport.

Hence 'tis, that some, who set up first
As raw, and wretched, and unverst;
And open'd with a Stock as poor,
As a healthy Beggar with one Sore;
That never writ in Prose or Verse,
But pick'd, or cut it, like a Purse;
And at the best could but commit
The Petty-Larceny of Wit;
To whom to write was to purloin,
And printing but to stamp false Coin;
Yet after long and sturdy 'ndeavours
Of being painful Wit-receivers,
With gath'ring Rags and Scraps of Wit,
As Paper's made, on which 'tis writ,
Have gone forth Authors, and acquir'd
The right—or wrong to be admir'd;
And arm'd with Confidence incurr'd
The Fool's good Luck, to be preferr'd.

For as a Banker can dispose
Of greater Sums, he only owes,
Than he, who honestly is known
To deal in nothing but his own:
So whose'er can take up most,
May greatest Fame and Credit Boast.

SATYR UPON THE IMPERFECTION AND ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING

1. PART 1ST

It is the Noblest Act of Human Reason,
To Free it selfe, from Slavish Prepossession,
Assume the Legall Right to Disingage,
From all, it had Contracted under Age:
And not its Ingenuity, and wit,
To all it was Imbu'd with first, submit,
Take Tru, or False, For Better, or for worse:
To Have, or t' Hold, indifferently, of Course.

For Custom, though but Usher of the Schoole
Where Nature breede's the Body up, and Soul,
Usurpe's a Greater Pow'r, and Interest,
O're Man, the Heir of Reason, then Brute Beast;
That by two Different Instincts is Led,
Born to the one and by the other Bred.
And Traine's him up, with Rudiments more False
Then Nature do's, her Stupid Animals.
And that's one Reason, why more Care's bestowd
Upon the body, then the Soule's allow'd:
That is not found to understand, and know,
So Subtly as the Body's found to Grow.

Though Children, without Study, Paines, or thought,
Are Languages, and vulgar Notions taught:
Improve their Nat'ral Talents without Care,
And Apprehend, before they are aware:
Yet as all Strangers never leave the Tones,
They have been usd of children to Pronounce,
So most Mens Reason never can outgrow
The Discipline, it first Receiv'd to know
But render words, they first began to con,
The End of all that's after to be known;
And set the Helps of Education back,
Worse then (without it) Man could ever lack.
Who therefor, finde's, The Artificialst Fooles
Have not been changd i' th' Cradle but the Schooles:
Where Error, Pædantry, and Affectation
Run them, behind Hand, with their Education.

And all alike are taught Poetique Rage
When Hardly one's fit for it, in an Age.

No sooner are the Organs of the Braine
Quick to Receive, and stedfast to Retaine
Best knowledges; But All's layd out upon
Retriving of the Curse of Babilon,
To make Confounded Languages Restore
A Greater Drudgery, then it Bard before.
And therefor those Imported from the East,
Where first the[y] were Incurd, are held the Best,
Although conveyd in worse Arabian Pothookes
Then Gifted Tradsmen Scratch in Sermon Notebooks;
Are Really but Paines, and Labour lost
And not worth half the Drudgery they cost,
Unles, like Raritys, as th' have been brought
From foraine Climats, and as Dearly bought;
When those who had no other but their own
Have all Succeeding Eloquence outdon;
As Men that wink with one eie see more tru
And take their Aime much better then with two.
For the more Languages a man can speake,
His Talent has but sprung the Greater Leak:
And for the Industry, H' has spent upon't,
Must ful as much some other way Discount.
The Hebrew, Chalde, and the Syriac
Do (like their Letters) set mens Reason back:
And turn's their wits, that strive to understand it,
(Like those that write the Character[s],) Left-Handed.
Yet He that is but able to express
No Sense at all, in Severall Languages,
Will Pass for Learneder, then Hee that's known
To Speake the Strongest Reason, in but one.

These are the modern Arts of Education
With all the Learned of Mankind in Fashion,
But Practicd only with the Rod and whip,
As Riding Schools inculcate Horsmanship
Or Romish Penitents let out their Skins
To beare the Penaltys of others Sins.
When Letters at the first were meant for Play
And only usd to Passe the time away:

When th' Ancient Greeks, and Romans had no name
T' express a Schoole, and Play-hous, but the same;
And in their Languages so long agone,
To study or be Idle, was all one.
For nothing more Preserv's men in their wits,
Then giving of them, leave to Play by fits,
In Dreames to sport, and Ramble with all Fancies,
And waking, little less Extravagancies:
The Rest, and Recreation of tyr'd Thought,
When 'tis Run down with Care, and overwrought:
Of which, who ever do's not freely take
His Constant Share, is never Broad awake,
And when he wants an equal Competence
Of both Recruits, Abates as much of Sense.

Nor is their Education worse design'd,
Then Nature (in her Province) Prove's unkind.
The Greatest Inclinations, with the least
Capacitys, are Fatally Possest,
Condemnd to Drudge, and Labour, and take Paines,
Without an equal Competence of Braines:
While those she has Indulgd in Soul, and Body,
Are most averse to Industry, and Study.
And th' Activst Fancies share as loose Alloys,
For want of Equal weight to Counterpoyse:
But when those Great conveniences meet,
Of equal Judgment, Industry, and wit;
The one but strives the other to Divert:
While Fate, and Custom, in the Feud take Part
And Schollers by Prepostrous over doing,
And under-Judging, All their Projects Ruine:
Who, though the understanding of Mankind
Within so streit a Cumpasse is confin'd,
Disdain the Limits Nature set's to Bound
The wit of Man, and vainly Rove beyond.
When Bravest Souldiers scorn, until th' are got
Close to the Enemy, to mak[e] a Shot,
Yet Great Philosophers delight to stretch
Their Talents most, at things beyond their Reach:
And Proudly think t' unriddle ev'ry Cause
That Nature use's, by their own By-laws

When 'tis not only Impertinent, but Rude,
When she deny's Admission, to intrude:
And, all their Industry is but to Erre
Unless they have free Quarentine from her:
Whence 'tis, the World the less has understood
By striving to know more, then 'tis allow'd.

For Adam with the Loss of Paradise
Bought knowledg at too Desperate a Price;
And ever since that Miserable Fate
Learning did never Cost an Easier Rate:
For though the most Divine, and Sovraine Good
That Nature has upon Mankind bestowd,
Yet it has Prov'd a Greater Hinderance
To th' Interests of Truth then Ignorance,
And therefore never Bore so high a valew
As when it was Contemptible and shallow,
Had Academy[s], Schooles, and Colledges,
Endowd for its Improvment, and Increase:
With Pomp, and Shew, was introduced with Maces,
More than a Roman Magistrate, had Fasces;
Impowrd with Statute, Privilege, and Mandate,
T' assume an Art, and after understand it,
Like Bills of Store, for taking a Degree,
With all the Learning to it, Custome-free,
And own Professions, which they never took
So much Delight in, as to Read one Book:
Like Princes had Prerogative to Give
Convicted Malefactors, a Reprive.
And having but a little Paultry wit
More then the world, Reduct, and Govern'd it:
But Scornd, as soon as 'twas but understood,
As Better is a Spightful fo to Good.
And now has nothing left for its Support,
But what the Darkest times Provided for't.

Man has a natural Desire to know,
But th' one Half, is for Intrest, Th' other show,
As Scrivners take more Paines to learn the Slight
Of making knots, then all the Hands they write.
So all his Study is not to Extend
The Bounds of Knowledg, but some vainer End;

T' appeare and Pass for Learned, though his Clame
Will Hardly Reach beyond the Empty Name.
For most of those that Drudg, and Labour Hard
Furnish their understandings by the yard
As a French Library by th' whole is,
So much an Ell, for Quartos, and for Folios,
To which they are but Indexes themselvs,
And understand no further then the shelvs,
But smatter with their Titles, and Editions
And Place them, in their Classical Partitions:
When all a Student know's of what he Read's
Is not in 's own, but under Gen'rall Heads
Of Common Places, not in his own Powr,
But like a Dutchmans Money, i' th' Cantore,
Where all he can make of it, at the Best,
Is hardly three Per Cent, for Interest:
And whether he wil ever get it out,
Into his own Possession, is a Doubt.
Affect's all Books of Past, and modern Ages,
But Read's no further then the Title Pages,
Only to con the Authors Names by Rote,
Or at the Best, those of the Books they wrot.
Enough to challenge Intimate Acquaintance,
With all the Learned Moderns, and the Antients.
As Roman Noble men were wont to Greet
And complement the Rabble in the Street:
Had Nomenclators in their Traines to clame
Acquaintance, with the Meanest, by his Name;
And by so cheap, contemptible, a Bribe
Trepand the Suffrages, of every Tribe.
So learned Men, by Authors Names unknown,
Have Gaind no smal Improvement to their own.
For He's esteemd the Learnedst of all others,
That has the Largest Catalogue of Authors.

2. FRAGMENTS of an intended SECOND PART of the foregoing SATYR

[Mens] Talents Grow more Bold and Confident,
The further th' are beyond their Just Extent.
As Smattrers Prove more Arrogant and Peart
The less they truly understand an Art;
And, where th' ave least Capacity to doubt,
Are wont t' appeare more Peremptory, and Stout;
While those that Know the Mathematique Lines
Where Nature all the wit of Man Confines,
And when it keep's within it's Bounds, and where
It Act's beyond the Limits of it's Sphere,
Injoy an Absoluter free Command
O're all they have a Right to understand,
Then those that falsly venture to Incroach
Where Nature has denyd the[m] all Approach;
And still the more they strive to understand,
Like Great Estates, run furthest Behinde Hand;
Will undertake the Univers to Fathom,
From Infinite, down to a Single Atom,
Without a Geometrique Instrument,
To take their own Capacity's Extent;
Can tell as Easy how the world was made
As if they had been brought up to the Trade,
And whether Chance, Necessity, or Matter
Contrivd the whole œconomy of Nature;
When all their Wits to understand the World
Can never tell why a Pigs Tayle is Curld
Or give a Rational Accompt, why Fish
That always use to Drink, do never Pisse.
What Mad Phantastique Gambols have been P[l]ayd
By th' antique Greek Forefathers of the Trade?

That were not much Inferior to the Freaks
Of all our Lunatique, Fanatique Sects:
The First and Best Philosopher of Athens,
Was Crackt, and Ran stark-staring mad with Patience;
And had no other way to shew his wit,
But when his Wife was in her Scolding Fit:
Was after in the Pagan Inquisition,
And sufferd Martyrdom for no Religion.
Next him, his Scholler striving to Expell
All Poets, his Poetique Common-weal,
Exild himself, and al his Followers,
Notorious Poets only Bating verse.
The Stagyrite, unable to Expound
The Euripus, leapt int' it, and was Drownd:
So he, that put his Eies out, to Consider,
And Contemplate on Natural things, the steadier:
Did but himself for Idiot convince,
Tho Reverenct by the Learned ever since.
Empedocles, to be esteemd a God,
Leapt into Ætna with [his] Sandals shod,
That b'ing blown out, discoverd what an Ass,
The Great Philosopher, and Jugler was,
That to his own New Deity sacrifict
And was himself the victime, and the Priest.
The Cynique coynd False Money, and for feare
Of being Hangd for't, turnd Philosopher:
Yet with his Lanthorn went by Day to finde
One Honest Man in th' Heap of all Mankind;
An Idle Freak, he needed not have don,
If he had known himself to be but one.
With swarms of Magots of the self-same Rate,
The Learned of all Ages celebrate:
Things that are properer for Knights-bridg-Colledge,
Then th' Authors, and Originals of Knowledg;
More Sottish then the two Fanatiques trying
To mend the World, by Laughing or by Crying:
Or he, that laughd until he chokd his whistle,
To Rally on an Ass, that eate a Thistle.
That th' Antique Sage, who was Gallant t' a Goose
A Fitter Mistres could not Pick and Chuse

Whose Tempers, Inclinations, Sense, and wit
Like two Indentures, did agree so fit.

The Antient Sceptiques constantly Denyd,
What they maintaind, and thought they Justifyd:
For when Th' Affirmd, That Nothing's to be known,
They did but what they sayd, before, Disowne:
And, [like] Polemiques of the Post, Pronounce
The same things, to be true, and False at once.

These Follies had such Influence on the Rabble,
As to Ingage them in Perpetual Squabble;
Divided Rome, And Athens, into clans
Of Ignorant Mechanique Partizans:
That to maintaine their Own Hypotheses,
Broke one anothers Block-heads, and the Peace.
Were often set by Officers i' th' Stocks
For Quarrelling about a Paradox,
When Pudding-wives were launchd in cockquen stooles,
For Falling-foul on Oyster-womens Schooles:
No Herb-women sold Cabbages, or Inions
But to their Gossips of their own Opinions,
A Peripatetique Cobler scornd to sole
A Pair of Shoos of any other Schoole
And Porters of the Judgment of the Stoiques
To go on Errand of the Cyrenaiques,
That us'd t'encounter in Athletique Lists
With Beard to Beard and Teeth and Nailes to Fists:
Like modern Kicks, and Cufs among the Youth
Of Academiques, to maintaine the Truth:
But, in the Boldest Feates of Arms, the Stoique,
And Epicureans, were the most Heroique,
That stoutly venturd breaking of their Necks,
To vindicate the Intrests of their Sects.
And stil behavd themselves as Resolute
In waging Cuffs, and Bruises, as Dispute,
Until with wounds, and Bruises, which th' had got,
Some Hundred were kild Dead, upon the Spot:
When al their Quarrels (rightly understood)
Were but to prove Disputes, the Sovrain Good.

Distinctions, that had been at first Design'd
To Regulate the Errors of the Minde,
By b'ing too Nicely over-straind, and vext,
Have made the Comment, harder then the Text;
And do not now (like Carving) hit the Joynt,
But break the Bones, in Pieces, of a Poynt:
And with Impertinent Evasions, force
The Clearest Reason, from it's Native Course—
That argue things s' uncertaine, 'tis no Matter
Whether they are, or never were in Nature,
And venture to Demonstrate when th' are slurd
And Palmd, a Fallacy upon a Word.
For Disputants (As Sword-men use to fence,
With Blunted Foyles) Dispute with Blunted Sense,
And as th' [are] wont to Falsify a Blow,
Use nothing else to Pass upon the Foe.
Or if they venture further to attack,
Like Bowlers, strive to Beat away the Jack:
And when they finde themselves, too hardly Prest-on,
Prævaricate, and change the State o' th' Question,
The Noblest Science of Defence, and Art,
In Practice now with all that Controvert;
And th' only Mode of Prizes, from Bear-garden
Down to the Schooles, in giving Blows, or warding.

As old Knights Errant in their Harnes fought
As Safe as in a Castle, or Redout,
Gave one another Desperat Attaques
To storme the Counter Scarps upon their Backs,
So Disputants Advance, and Post their Armes
To storm the works of one anothers Tearms,
Fall Foul on some extravagant Expression
But nere Attempt the maine Designe and Reason—
So some Polemiques, use to Draw their Swords
Against the Language only, and the words;
As He, who fought at Barriers with Salmasius
Ingagd with nothing but his Style, and Phrases,
Wav'd to assert the Murther of a Prince,
The Author of False Latin to Convince;
But Layd the Merits of the Cause aside,

By those who understood 'em to be try'd;
And counted Breaking Priscians Head a thing
More Capital then to behead a King,
For which H' has been admir'd by all the Learnd
Or Knavs concernd, and Pedants unconcern'd.

Judgement is but a Curious Pair of Scales,
That turn's with th' Hundredth Part of True, or False
And still the more 'tis usd, is wont, t' abate
The Subtlety, and Nicenes of it's weight.
Untill 'tis False, and will not Rise, nor Fall;
Like those that are less Artificiall,
And therefore Students, in their way of Judging,
Are faine to swallow many a Senseles Gudgeon:
And by their over-underst[and]ing loose
Its Active Faculty with too much use.
For Reason, when too Curiously 'tis Spun,
Is but the next of all Removd from none:

It is Opinion governs all Mankind
As wisely as the Blinde, that leads the Blinde:
For as those Sur-names are Esteemd the Best
That signify, in all things else, the Least,
So men Pass fairest in the worlds Opinion,
That have the least of Truth and Reason in 'em.
Truth would undo the world, if it Possest
The Meanest of its Right, and Interest.
Is but a titular Princes, whose Authority
Is always under-age, and in Minority;
Has al things don, and carryd in her Name,
But most of all, where she can lay no Clame.
As far from Gayety, and Complesance,
As Greatness, Pride, Ambition, Ignorance.
And therefore has surrenderd her Dominion
Ore all Mankind, to barbarous opinion.
That in her Right, usurps the Tyrannys
And Arbitrary Government of Lyes—

As no Tricks on the Rope, but those that Break
Or come most Near to breaking of a Neck
Are worth the Sight: so nothing Go's for wit,
But Nonsense, or the next of al to it.

For Nonsense being neither False, nor tru,
A Little wit to any thing may Screw.
And when it has a while been usd of Course
Wil stand as well in virtu, Powr and Force
And Pass for Sense t' all Purposes as good
As if it had at first been understood.
For Nonsense, has the Amplest Priviledges
And more then all the Strongest Sense, oblige's.
That furnishes the Schools, with Tearms of Art
The Mysterys of Science, to Impart.
Supplys all Seminarys, with Recruites
Of endless Controversys, and Disputes,
For Learned Nonsense has a Deeper Sound
Then Easy Sense, and go's for more Profound.

The greatest writers commonly Compile,
At Charge of Nothing, but the words and Style.
And all the Nicest Critiques of the Learnd
Believe themselves in Nothing else concernd.
For as it is the Garniture and Dress
That all things weare in Books and Languages
And all Mens Qualitis are wont t' appeare
According to the Habits that they weare,
'Tis Probable to be the Fittest Test,
Of all the ingenuity o' th' Rest:
The Lives of Trees Ly chiefly in their Barks,
And all the wit i' th' Styles of Learned Clerks,
Hence 'twas, the Antient Roman Politicians
Went to the Schooles of Forrain Rhetoricians
To learn the Art of Patrons (in Defence
Of Intrest, and their Clients) Eloquence:
When Consuls, Censors, Senators, and Prætors,
With great Dictators, usd t' apply to Rhetors:
To heare the Greater Magistrate, o' th' School,
Give Sentence in his Haughty Chair-Curule.
And those who Mighty Nations over-came,
Were fain to say their Lessons, and declame.

Words are but Pictures, tru or False Designd
To Draw the Lines, and Features of the Minde,
The Characters and artificial Draughts

T' express the inward Images of thoughts;
And Artists say a Picture may be good
Altho the Moral be not understood;
Whence some Infer, They may Admire a Style,
Though all the Rest be ere so Mean and vile:
Applaud th' outsides of words, but never minde,
With what Fantastique Taudery th' are Lyn'd.

So Orators, Inchanted with the Twang
Of their own Trillos, take Delight t' Harangue;
Whose Science, like a Juglers Box, and Balls
Convey's, and Counterchanges Tru, and False.
Cast's Mists before their Audiences eies,
To Pass the one, for th' other in Disguise:
And like a Morice-Dancer drest with Bells,
Only to serve for Noyse, and Nothing else,
Such as a Carryer make's his Cattle weare
And Hang's for Pendents in a Horses Eare:
For if the Style and Language beare the Test,
No matter what become's, of all the Rest:
The Ablest orator, to save a word,
Would throw all Sense, and Reason, over boord.

Hence 'tis that nothing else, but Eloquence,
Is tyd to such a Prodigal Expence;
That Lay's out Halfe the wit, and Sense it uses
Upon the other halfes, as vain excuses.
For all Defences, and Apologies,
Are but Specifique's, t' other Frauds and Lies;
And th' Artificiall wash of Eloquence,
Is dawbd in vaine, upon the Clearest Sense.
Only to staine the Native Ingenuity,
Of æqual Brevity, and Perspicuity.
While all the Best, and Sobrest, Feats he does;
Are when he Coughs, or Spits, or Blows his Nose,
Handles no Poynt, so evident, and cleare
(Beside his white Gloves) as his Handkercher;
Unfold's the Nicest Scruple, so Distinct,
As if his Talent had been wrapd-up in't
(Unthriftily) and now he went about
Henceforward to Improve, and put it out.

For Pædants are a Mungrel Breed that Sojorn
Among the Ancient writers, and the modern;
And while their studys are between the one,
And th' other spent, have nothing of their own;
Like Spunges, are both Plants, and Animals
And equally to both their Natures false.
For whether 'tis their want of Conversation,
Inclines them to al Sorts of Affectation:
Their Sedentary Life, and Melancholy,
The Everlasting Nursery of Folly;
Their Poring upon Black and White too subtly
Has turnd the Insides of their Brains to Motly,
Or squandring of their wits, and time, upon
Too many things, has made them fit for none,
Their Constant over-straining of the minde
Distort[s] the Braine, as Horses break their winde;
Or Rude Confusions of the things they Read
Get up like noxious vapours in th[e] Head,
Untill they have their Constant wanes, and Fuls
And Changes, in the Insides of their Skuls;
Or venturing beyond the reach of wit
Had rendred them for al things else unfit;
But never bring the world and Books together
And therefore never Rightly Judg of either;
Whence multitudes of Revrend men and Critiques
Have got a kinde of Intellectual Riquets,
And by th' Immoderate Excess of Study
Have found the Sickly Head t' outgrow the Body.

For Pedantry is but a Corn, or wart
Bred in the Skin of Judgment, Sense, and Art,
A Stupifyd Excrescence, like a Wen
Fed by the Peccant Humors of Learnd Men,
That never Grows from Natural Defects
Of Downright and untutord Intellects,
But from the over curious and vain
Distempers of an Artificial Brain—

So Hee that once stood for the Learnedst man,
Had Read-out Little-Britain, and Duck-Lane,
Worn out his Reason, and Reducd his Body
And Brain to nothing, with Perpetual Study:

Kept Tutors of all Sorts, and virtuosos,
To Read all Authors to him, with their Glosses,
And made his Laqueis (when he walkd) Beare Folios
Of Dictionarys, Lexicons, and Scolios
To be Read to him evry way, the winde
Should chance to sit before him, or Behind:
Had read out all the imaginary Duels
That had been fou[gh]t by Consonants and vowel[s];
Had Crackt his Scul, to find out Proper-Places,
To lay up all Memoires of things in Cases,
And Practicd all the Tricks upon the Carts
To Play with Packs of Sciences and Arts,
That serve t' improve a Feeble Gamsters Study
That venture's at Grammatique Beast, or Noddy;
Had Read-out all the Catalogues of wares
That come in Dry fats o're, from Francfort-faires,
Whose Authors use t' articulate their Surnames
With Scraps of Greek, more Learned then the Germans:
Was wont to scatter Books in evry Roome
Where they might best bee seen, by all that come,
And lay a Train, that natrally should force
What he designd, as if it fel of Course.
And all this; with a worse Success then Cardan,
Who bought both Bookes and Learning at a Bargain
When lighting on a Philosophique Spel,
Of which he never Knew one Syllable,
Presto be gone! H' unriddled all he Read
As if he had to nothing else been Bred.

University of Virginia Library