REMARKS.

* Of Taſte,] Some of our little Second-Hand Smatterers in Criticiſm, will be apt to imagine our Author ought to have wrote On Taſte, rather than Of Taſte, as if Of and On had two different Significations. But Mr. Pope has declar'd himſelf in fa⯑vour of Of, and thereby clapt a Gag into the Mouths of all Gainſayers. His hoc volo, ſic jubeo is ſufficient to make any Ex⯑preſſion▪ paſs for Standard, and ſtet pro Ratione Voluntas.

^a 'Tis ſtrange, &c.] This is a vaſt deal too ſtrange to be true; and the Miſfortune is, every common Obſerver knows it to be quite otherwiſe. The Miſer's Enjoyment conſiſts in hoard⯑ing up his Wealth, and feaſting his Eyes with the Sight there⯑of. Our old Friend Horace has aſſured us of this, almoſt Two Thouſand Years ago; for he introduces a Man of this Character, ſaying,

[2] ^a It is leſs ſtrange, &c.] This Aſſertion is equally weak, and inconcluſive. The Prodigal, like every Body elſe, lays out his Money in ſomething, which he chuſes rather than the Mo⯑ney he parts with. And tho' perhaps his Taſte in Painting, Ar⯑chitecture, &c. may not be altogether ſo exquiſite as Mr. Pope's in Philoſophy or Poetry, yet ſtill he certainly taſtes the Purchaſe he makes, better than the Purchaſe Money; for otherwiſe, he de⯑ſerves to be begg'd for a Fool for parting with it.

^b Not for himſelf, he ſees, or hears, or eats;] If this Sentence has any Meaning at all, it muſt certainly be, either that he ſees, or hears, or eats for ſomebody elſe or that ſomebody elſe; ſees, or hears, or eats for him. As for any Body's ſeeing, or hearing for me, I might not perhaps ſcruple it much; but for any Body's eat⯑ing for me, I ſhould humbly beg he would not inſiſt upon it; my Stomach would never conſent to it.

^c Artiſts muſt chuſe, &c.] I cannot forbear owning our Au⯑thor perfectly in the right here, in allowing the Prodigal, Artiſts to chuſe for him, when he is incapable of chuſing for himſelf; for who, in his Wits, would not rather employ real Artiſts, in any Af⯑fair, than a Parcel of Blunderers and Blockheads?

^d He buys] He buys! Who buys? Not the Miſer, I hope, his Money is too faſt lockt up in his Cheſt, ever to be let looſe on any ſuch Occaſions. Nor the Prodigal! for he is forc'd to make uſe of other People's Eyes and Ears to ſupply ſome certain Defici⯑encies in his own. Who can it be then? Why, it muſt certainly be the Artiſts, mentioned in the preceeding Line: But if ſo, why falſe Grammar? And why would not They buy, have done full as well as He buys? This I ſhall leave to be corrected in his next Edition.

^e For Topham, Fountain, and Curio] What ſtrange Gentle⯑men [3] muſt theſe be, who cannot go to Market, and buy theſe Things themſelves, rather than employ others, as their Factors, and be forc'd to allow Brokerage. But the World needs not be inform'd, at this Time of Day, that few of Theſe are the Produce of this Iſland; How famous ſoever we may be for modern Improvements in Me⯑chanicks, Mathematicks, &c. we certainly were never very fa⯑mous for Antiquities, Drawings and Coins. Greece and Italy are well known to be the grand Magazines for all theſe; and whoever has not his preſent Reſidence in theſe Parts, muſt, of Neceſſity, pur⯑chaſe the Produce of them from Second or Third Hands.

^a Rare Monkiſh Manuſcripts for Hearne alone,] Poor Tom Hearne! I dare ſwear, ſo polite a Genius as Mr. Pope never once ſtrained his Optick Nerves with poring over one of thy Monkiſh Manuſcripts. Robert of Glouceſter, and Jeffrey of Monmouth are quite out of his Way; and he knows no more of Florence of War⯑ceſter, nor the Textus Roffenſis, than a Dancing Maſter does of Algebra, or a Lawyer's Clerk of Divinity.— But to the Matter in Hand.—I cannot imagine Mr. Hearne oblig'd to trot round the Kingdom in queſt of Manuſcripts, where-ever an old Abbey may have ſtood; or to travel into foreign Countries wherever ſuch Books may have been diſpers'd at the Reformation. 'Tis enough if he knows the Value of them when they are brought to him, and how to oblige the World with them afterwards, at a proper Opor⯑tunity.

^b And Books for Mead,] This worthy Gentleman has a vaſt and valuable Library, ſtor'd with all Sorts of Books Foreign and Domeſtic; and he is not only a Perſon of extraordinary Learning himſelf, but one of the greateſt Patrons and Encouragers of it, in this Kingdom. However, it is not impoſſible but he may have bought Books from Second and Third Hands, and he may very likely have ſome, among ſo prodigious a Collection, which he has hardly deign'd a reading. But I hope Mr. Pope's Works are none of that Number, tho' he may well ſave himſelf the Trouble even of looking into them; for whether Mr. Pope knows it or no, he can read Homer and Statius, nay, and Chaucer and Shakeſpear, in [4] their Originals, without Recourſe either to a rhiming Tranſlator, or a Modernizer to point him out their Meaning.—But Mead is not only famous for Books, but for ſeveral choice Curioſities, among which is his celebrated Head of Homer, for a Copy of which, if I miſtake not, Mr. Pope has been oblig'd to him, to grace his Odyſſey.— And the World tells ſtrange Stories, if Mr. Pope be not oblig'd for the beſt Part of his own Head to ſome Body elſe, who may, not unlikely, meet the ſame Treatment in his next Per⯑formance, as theſe have done in This.

^c And Rarities for Sloan.] Whether Dr. Sloan has a full Know⯑ledge of the true Value of every individual Rarity in ſo extraordina⯑ry a Collection, is what neither Mr. Pope nor I can tell.—But to alledge that he employs others to chuſe for him, is as much as to ſay, that he is unable to chuſe for himſelf; or in other Words, that he has not Judgment enough to diſtinguiſh a Crocodile from a Rattle Snake. Sir Hans has purchaſed Rarities from all known Parts of the Globe.—But muſt he travel to all theſe Parts him⯑ſelf to pick them up? An Age would not bring that about: And between Mr. Pope and I, he has much better Buſineſs at Home, where he has Wealth enough to purchaſe whatever valuable Thing is offer'd him; and has, at this Time the richeſt private Collection in Europe, or perhaps in the Univerſe.

^a Than his fine Wife (my Lord) or finer Whore.] What a ſpiteful Inſinuation is here, againſt the poor Artiſts, that they keep their Whores finer than their Wives. I am ſorry to hear our Author is a Batchelor, or we ſhould ſee how he would manage in that important Affair of Life. He is certainly an Artiſt, for all the World owns him a Rhimer; and ſome per⯑haps may look upon him as a Reaſoner.—But theſe two Faculties do not always go together; and if they did,—He is not indiſpenſably oblig'd to reaſon his beſt on every little Oc⯑caſion. Rhime may ſometimes do the Buſineſs full as well with⯑out it.

[5] ^a For what has Virro painted, built, and planted? &c.] What pity it is that Virro did not conſult our Author, before he went to work? Had he done that, I dare vouch, all would have been well, tho' every Thing appear'd juſt as it does. But for want of this Unum Neceſſarium, for want of conſulting this univerſal Genius, his Paintings are monſtrous, his Buildings barba⯑rous, his Planting ridiculous, and he has no Taſte, or what's worſe, an ill one.

^b Some Daemon whiſper'd, "Knights ſhould have a Taſte," Mr. Pope has not half the Modeſty of this good natur'd Daemon, who only whiſper'd a Secret ſoftly into one Knight's Ear,—He has proclaim'd it to the World. How does he know, now, but Squires and private Gentlemen may put in for their reſpective Shares; If ſo, what an Inundation of Taſte will then break in upon us: The Nation will be over run with it, and the Government o⯑blig'd at laſt to put a Stop to it, as a growing Evil.

^c Heaven viſits with a Taſte the Wealthy Fool,] Our Author, I think, is generally ſuppoſed to be pretty rich; and moſt People allow him to have a Taſte, at leaſt of ſomething.—Now as Heaven has viſited him with a Taſte, how ought he to bleſs him⯑ſelf that he is no Fool; for if he had, he might have had no more Wit than to have fallen to Building, or ſomething as bad, and thereby waſted his Wealth as ſimply as ſome other People.

[6] ^a That never Coxcomb reach'd Magnificence.] When Coxcombs of Quality will employ Fools of Architects, they can never rea⯑ſonably expect to reach Magnificence, ſhould they lay out their whole Eſtates: And indeed the Caſe would be much the ſame ſhould they take it into their Heads to turn Architects themſelves, with a Deſign to ſave Charges.

^b Oft have you hinted to your Brother Peer, &c.] How much had the World been obliged to this noble Lord, if he had once generouſly publiſhed that grand Secret to the World, which he ſo oft hinted to his Brother Peer in private Converſation.—But if he had, others would have been preſented with that Experience, which they have ſince purchaſed at ſo dear a Rate; and this Lord's Buildings would never have been found Non-pareils, had not ſome hundreds fallen ſhort of them, out of an Ambition of excelling them.

^c Good Senſe which only is the Gift of Heaven, &c.] This is a much greater Compliment to good Senſe, than ever one would have expected from Mr. Pope: But the Truth is, he has a Mind to ſet Senſe and the Sciences at Variance, by ſhewing that they have not the leaſt Affinity with each other; and inſinuating, that 'tis no great Difficulty for a Man to become an Adept in any of the Seven Sciences, tho' he was a Changeling himſelf, and his whole Family had been Fools for fifteen Generations.

[7] ^a Begin with Senſe, &c.] 'Tis ſomewhat odd that Mr. Pope ſhould be capable of giving ſo good Advice to others, and mind [8] it ſo little himſelf.—What a woeful Beginning did he make, and how miſerably did he blunder between his Miſer and Prodi⯑gal!—But enough of that:—I am ſurpriz'd to find Senſe here ſtyl'd the Soul of every Art or Science, when there was a ſtrong Inſinuation not much above a dozen Lines before, that they had very little Buſineſs together; or, in other Words, that Senſe might, without any Detriment to the Sciencies, be divorc'd from them, and put to a ſeparate Maintenance.

* The Seat and Gardens of the Lord Viſcount Cobham in Buck⯑inghamſhire.

^a Cut wide Views thro' Mountains] If Ten Thouſand Hands were employed in any Work without ſome good Head to direct them, it is no Wonder if they make mad or fooliſh Work on't: But how a Mountain in one Line ſhould dwindle to a Hill in the next, without any viſible Means, ſurpaſſes my Comprehenſion, unleſs it be merely to anſwer the Meaſure of the Verſe.

^b You'll wiſh your Hill, and ſhelter'd Seat, again.] Then he [9] may have it. He had a Mountain to remove, in the former Line; and, without doubt, he was at the Charge of doing it. Now he he has only a Hill to bring back, and all is right again, and his Houſe in ſtatu quo. And ſure leſs Charge will bring a Hill Home again, than would carry a Mountain Abroad.

^a The Wood ſupports the Plain;] I have heard of a Plain ſup⯑porting a Wood a thouſand Times, becauſe the Plain was below, and the Wood above.—But how Mr. Pope's Wood comes to ſupport his Plain, I own myſelf unable to determine, un⯑leſs His was a ſubterraneous Wood, which ſupported the Plain above, as a convenient Number of Columns do a Stately Cu⯑pola.

^b His bloomy Beds, &c. with Silver quiv'ring Rills maeander'd o'er.] This is the moſt myſterious Paſſage I have lately met with. How, in the Name of Goodneſs, can Silver quiv'ring Rills maeander Beds o'er. Had it been maeander them thro', that is, divide them with a winding Stream, it had been Senſe; but [10] then the next Rhime muſt have ſuffered.—But now I recol⯑lect, theſe ſuperterraneous Rills were, perhaps, deſigned for his ſubterraneous Wood; and as ſuch, I ſhall leave them to perform their Office.

^a He finds at laſt he better likes a Field.] That is, he finds at laſt, he likes a Field better. Where is the Poetry here? Where, the Majeſty of Thought, The Sublimity of Diction?—But to paſs theſe by, and proceed to the Sentiment. I can ſee no Manner of Wonder, why a Gentleman, in his declining Years ſhould be tired with the Diverſions of his Youth, when we find it common for moſt of us to diſlike thoſe Things to Day which we doted on but Yeſterday.

^b His Son's fine Taſte an op'ner Viſta loves, &c.] The Father was of the ſame Opinion before he died, (if we may ſuppoſe Vil⯑lario and Sabinus Relations, and believe what has been advanced half a Dozen Lines before.) But how comes his Son to have a Taſte ſo much finer than his Father? The Father planted noble Gardens in his Youth, and delighted to walk in the Fields in his [11] old Age. However he had his Choice, and might have taken a Turn in his Gardens whenever he had thought fit.—The Son, to ſhew a Specimen of his ſuperior Taſte, makes quick Work, grubs up his Father's Woods, and converts his thriving Plants to Broom⯑ſticks.

^a Yet hence the Poor are cloth'd, &c.] This would certainly be a fine Reflection, were it not deſign'd for the ſake of a Stroke of Satyr in the next Stanza. Villario is here brought upon the Stage again, and accus'd for what every wiſe and good Man ought to applaud him; namely, for ſetting the Poor to Work, and rather chuſing to have his Money circulate thro' the Neighbour⯑hood, than ſuffer it to lye pil'd up in his Cheſts, and ſee his Poor Dependants ſtarve for want of Employment.

^b Another Age ſhall ſee, &c.] This is no more than what has ever been common to all Nations in all the later Ages of the World. The Stately Palaces of the Aegyptian and Perſian Mo⯑narchs lye now buried under huge Heaps of Duſt and Rubbiſh: All [12] the pleaſant Gardens of Ancient Rome are long ſince turn'd to a Wilderneſs: Nay, the very ſituation of ſeveral of the moſt renowned Cities in the World are now become ſo obſcure, that Travellers into thoſe Parts, cannot agree where they have for⯑merly ſtood.—In one Word, the whole of the Story reſts here. Villario pleas'd himſelf with Planting and Gardening, and by that Means kept his poor Neighbourhood from Want. A deſcendant of his, of a different Taſte (or, if Mr. Pope pleaſes, of a finer Taſte) may poſſibly, ſome Ages hence, cut down his ſhady Woods, plow up his fine Walks, and turn the whole to Corn-Ground again. This will alſo be Employment and Bread for the Neighbourhood, whenever it happens.—And whether Mr. Pope be ſenſible of it, or no, Satyr rebounds back upon the Author, whenever it is pointed at a wrong Object.

^a Where all cry out, what Sums are thrown away! &c.] 'Tis ſomewhat ſtrange that all ſhould conſpire, with one Voice, to blame Timon's profuſeneſs in Building; and what is ſtranger ſtill, how it came to our Author's Knowledge. But perhaps this is only his private Opinion, which he has a mind to father upon the Publick. —Be that as it will, any other Extravagance would have produced as ill an Effect, and ſeveral, much worſe.—But Timon has thrown away vaſt Sums in Building.—The Publick [13] certainly gathered up as much as he threw away, and this was no more than changing Hands. The whole was undoubtedly gi⯑ven to Stone-Cutters, Carvers, Statuaries, Bricklayers, Carpenters, Joyners, Labourers, &c. All the Materials too were undoubtedly the Produce of our own Iſland, except a little foreign Marble, and ſome other Trifles of ſmall Importance. So that ſuch a private Expence is ſo far from being a Publick Loſs, that the Nation would not be one Farthing the poorer, if fifty ſuch Fabricks were erected every ten or a dozen years.

^a Who but muſt laugh the Maſter] Who but muſt laugh at our Poet for writing ſuch barbarous Engliſh? I am really ſurpriz'd to think how he ſuffered ſuch an Impropriety to eſcape him. The Truth is, laugh at the Maſter would have ſtretch'd the Verſe a Syllable beyond its ordinary Length, for which Rea⯑ſon He, having more Regard to Sound than Senſe, choſe to omit the Particles.

^b A puny Inſect, ſhiv'ring at a Breeze!] The puny Inſect in this Page, is declared a Lord in the next; and it is undenyable that there may be little Lords as well as great ones.—Every one who has the Honour to be acquainted with Mr. Pope, owns him to be a fine, tall, proper, well-ſhap'd agreeable, jolly Gentleman, with a Conſtitution ſtrong enough to enable him to defy Winds and Weather: But how he happens, here, to reflect upon a little Lord, meerly for ſhrinking at a fit of Cold Weather, is what I cannot well reconcile, either to good Senſe, or good Manners. However, if our Author has here, confin'd himſelf to one Day, a he aſſures us, it ſeems a little extraordinary, methinks, that my [14] Lord ſhould be taken with a ſhivering Fit when ſeveral of his Viſitors were ſweating upon a Hot Terras. But if he takes in the Compaſs of ſeveral Months, 'tis not unlikely but the whole Company might ſhiver and ſweat at different. Times of the Year, and by that Means keep his Lordſhip in Countenance.

^a A Lake behind improves the keenneſs of the Northern Wind.] 'Tis not improbable that the Lake mentioned here, may be the ſame with the Pond or Ocean in the preceeding Page; if ſo, it is no great Wonder it ſhould chill the Part of the Houſe adja⯑cent to it, which our Author has aſſured us was the North Side. And if the Lake lay on the North Side of the Houſe, then the Houſe moſt certainly ſtood on the South Side of the Lake.

^b On every Side you look, behold the Wall!] If a Perſon could be⯑hold my Lord's Garden Wall on every Side, from any particular Station within, 'tis ſtrange how it was capable of containing that Down of a Parterre and that Ocean of a Pond: or how that Brob⯑dignagian Palace, or Town of a Houſe (mentioned about half a Score Lines ago) could lye adjacent to it.

[15] ^a Grove nods at Grove, each Ally has a Brother, &c.] This is the very firſt Time I ever heard either a Houſe or Gardens condemned for Regularity. Groves, Allys, &c. are, or may be all, in their proper Places, beautiful and agreeable; and why an exact Regularity ſhould make them otherwiſe, is impoſſible to know. The beſt of all the Gardens, as well as Fabricks, of an⯑cient Times, were perfectly Regular: And had Mr. Pope been the Deſigner of theſe, I dare almoſt venture to aſſert, he would either have plann'd them out in a regular Form, or every good Judge would have condemn'd his Gothick Fancy.

^b The ſuff'ring Eye inverted Nature ſees, &c.] 'Tis a thou⯑ſand Pities, one of ſo exquiſite a Taſte as Mr. Pope is own'd to be, ſhould meet with any Thing diſagreeable. Trees cut to Sta⯑tues are held abominable. Statues ſtanding too thick, deteſtable. A dry Fountain, inſupportable; (This indeed ought to have been ſet a playing to welcome ſo great a Perſonage to Lord Timon's Villa) and an unſhaded Summer-Houſe, an unpardonable Object.

[16] ^a And Swallows rooſt in Nilus' duſty Urn.] Theſe Printers are ſome of the moſt ignorant, and withal the moſt ſelf-conceit⯑ed Coxcombs breathing; One may tell them their Faults Ten Thouſand Times over, yet ſtill they will go on in a Mill-Horſe Tract, and commit the ſame Blunders afreſh. For Swallows rooſt in Nilus' duſty Urn, read, Sparrows neſt in Nilus' duſty Urn. If the Houſe was a Town, a Brobdignagian Palace, or a la⯑bour'd Quarry above Ground, (as we are told ſome lines before) then, nothing could be more fit than Nilus's Urn to clap up a⯑gainſt one of the Walls for a Bird-Bottle.

^b Juſt at his Study door he'll bleſs your Eyes.] Here we find my Lord, firſt of all, advancing o'er the Green on purpoſe to expoſe his Perſon to view;—And now we are told that our Eyes muſt not be bleſt with the Sight, till he appears at his Study-door.—Quere, Whereabouts, upon the Green, my Lord's Stu⯑dy-door ſtands? ‘Aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus.’

[17] ^a In Books, not Authors, curious is my Lord;] If Mr. Pope has thoroughly examined my Lord in Greek, Latin, French, Ita⯑lian, or any other Language, and found him defective, we may ſafely take his Word; for He has already given the World an ample Specimen, as well of his profound Skill in Languages, as of his extraordinary Candour and Humanity. But ſhould the Caſe prove otherwiſe, and our Author takes my Lord's Igno⯑rance, as moſt of the World do his Learning, meerly from Hear-ſay, then he will go a great Way towards the forfeiting ſo amiable a Character.—It is not improbable that he may have ſeen the dated Backs of my Lord's Books, and have made no further Obſervations than that ſome of them were bound in Vellum, and others in Paſt-board. But that is no Argument why my Lord ſhould have looked no more upon the Inſides than He, who perhaps was not a full half Hour in the Place.

^b For Locke or Milton 'tis in vain to look,] If my Lord ad⯑mits neither Locke nor Milton, how can we reaſonably expect he ſhould allow Mr. Pope's Works a Place in his Library; and this cannot but be a ſenſible Mortification to an Author, whoſe Ambition prompts him to cry out with Aeneas.

[18] ^a Make the Soul dance upon a Jig] This is a palpable Miſ⯑take; they are always Minuet or Rigadoon Aires, and the Jig is only inſerted here, to ſuite the Meaſure of the Verſe.

^b And bring all Paradiſe before your Eye.] If by this, our Au⯑thor means either Moſes's or Mahomet's Paradiſe, nothing can be more foreign to his purpoſe, for in the Account of either of them, we read not one Word of Silver Bells, Muſical Quirks, Dancing Souls, Painted Cielings, Sprawling Saints, nor gilded Clouds, and theſe make up the whole of Mr. Pope's Para⯑diſe, which muſt certainly be a new one, different from both the other.

[19] ^a A Hundred Footſteps ſcrape the Marble Hall:] Our Author, it ſeems, was admitted, among a vaſt Croud, to a magnificent Entertainment. How well he requited his Benefactor, we ſhall ſee afterwards.

^b Is this a Dinner?] No, I'll be ſworn, nor nothing like One, as it has been hitherto deſcrib'd. We have heard of nothing yet but Serpents gracing the Buffet, and Tritons ſpewing out Water, and then he calls out—Is this a Dinner.—However I am affraid he cries out before he has Occaſion.

^c So quick retires each flying Courſe, &c.] Now we come to a Dinner, in good Earneſt, but our Author very juſtly com⯑plains of their taking all his Victuals from before him, out of an Exceſs of Complaiſance, which indeed was intollerable to one ſo ſharp ſet. Howbeit, if ever he ſhould have the Honour to be admitted to my Lord's Table again, I would adviſe him to copy after his Brother Durfey's bright Example, and take a Hammer and a Ten-penny Nail in his Pocket, to fix the firſt good Plate full of Meat, he lays his Hands on, faſt to the Table.

[20] ^a And complaiſantly help'd to all I hate,] I wonder how my Lord's Servants came to know his Palate ſo exquiſitely well, as to help him to nothing but what he hated.—And yet what's ſtrange, he complain'd, but a few Lines before, that the Courſes were taken too ſoon away.—If we hate every Diſh upon a Table, the ſooner they are remov'd the better.—But he ſeems reſolv'd not to be ſatisfied, and therefore I am really of Opinion, his beſt Way would have been to have din'd at Home, and paid my Lord a Viſit afterwards.—He would hardly have been chid for coming ſo late.

^b And ſwear, no Day was ever paſt ſo ill.] So my Lord ſwears too, I dare affirm, if all the reſt of his Gueſts were of his Stamp. But if the reſt were of a different Diſpoſition, 'tis not unlikely but Mr. Pope might paſs unobſerv'd in the Croud, and that may be one grand Cauſe of his Uneaſineſs.

[21] ^a

] The Roman Buildings were undoubtedly the moſt expenſive upon Earth, but, at the ſame time, they were the leaſt uſeful, whatever Mr. Pope may alledge to the contrary.—Their moſt noted Structures were their Circi, for Horſe, and Chariot Races. Amphitheatres for Combats with Gladiators and wild Beaſts. Theatres for Sceni⯑cal Diverſions. Naumachiae for Naval Exerciſes. Baths, Tem⯑ples, Triumphal Arches, Monumental Pillars, Pyramids, &c. All theſe were built in the moſt ſumptuous and ſtately Man⯑ner poſſible; and it is well known, that ſome of them were of little Uſe to the Republick, ſome of no Uſe, and others of vaſt Detriment, as their own Writers allow.

^b Juſt as they are, yet ſhall your noble Rules, &c.] This, as it ſtands, is down-right Nonſenſe, Yet ſhall your noble Rules, juſt as they are, fill half the Land, &c. that is, your noble Rules, ſuch as they are, good or bad, rough as they run, ſhall fill.—This, I dare ſay, is none of your Meaning. The Truth is, your De⯑ſign was to have been underſtood in a Senſe very different from what the Expreſſions will bear. Your Aim was to have ſaid, Yet ſhall your noble Rules, as juſt as they are, fill, &c. This would have been Senſe, and ſomething to your Purpoſe, but then it would have ſtretch'd your Verſe out a Syllable too long, and you rather choſe to tranſgreſs againſt Senſe, than Sound. However, for once, I will help you to an Expreſſion which ſhall ſuite you exactly. Juſt tho' they be, yet ſhall—

^c Yet ſhall your noble Rules—Fill half the Land with Imitating Fools,] Better by half were it for the Land that my Lord's Rules, how juſt ſoever, had never been publiſhed, than they ſhould add ſuch vaſt Numbers to the Stock of Fools we have already.—However, I hope, my Lord had no ſuch Deſign in the Publica⯑tion, but what he did was out of a generous Principle of ſerving his Country, and not with any ſiniſter View of raiſing himſelf a Name by making half the Nation appear ridiculous.

[22] ^a Proud to catch Cold at a Venetian door;] If either a Roman, or a Gothic Door would exempt the Maſter of the Houſe from catching Cold, no Venetian Door ſhould ever find a Place round my Manſion—If otherwiſe, I cannot imagine what Buſi⯑neſs the Venetian Door has here, ſince the Wind's roaring thro' long Arcades would cauſe a Man to catch Cold at a Door of any other Form, every whit as ſoon.

[23] ^a Yet thou proceed; be fallen Arts thy care,] This Verſe is Lame, and wants a Crutch. However I ſhall overlook it, as on⯑ly a Printer's Error. Be the fallen Arts thy care, is the true reading.

^b And Temples worthier of the God,] To talk of a Temple worthy of a God, is unworthy any Man of Senſe. Whether ſuch an Idea will go down in Poetry, I know not; I am ſure it will never do, either in Philoſophy or Divinity▪ Why ſhould one Temple be worthier of an omnipreſent Being than another? Why ſhould a large Temple ſuite him better than a ſmall One? A Marble Fabrick, than one of Free Stone, or that, than one of Brick or Timber. Solomon has aſſured us, long enough ago, that God dwells not in Houſes made with Hands. And tho' the Pagans were taught that their Local Dieties might he confin'd within cer⯑tain Limits, yet the wiſer Sort among them, condemn'd the No⯑tion; and Chriſtianity has not only ſet us free from that, but a Thouſand other Fopperies; ſo that whoever advances ſuch Doc⯑trine, at this Time of the Day, is making a freſh Attempt to put a Hook in our Noſes, and a Bridle in our Lips, to draw us back to Paganiſm. or, which is much the ſame, to Popery.