Πάντα γέλως, και παντα κονης, και πατα το μηδέν.
Παντα γαρ εξ κλογων τα εσι γιγνομενα. .

lacert, ap. Stobaem.

..

THE

F I R S T CAN T O.

MT

ATTHEW met Richard, when or where

From story is not mighty clear :
Of many knotty points they spoke ;
And pro and con by turns they took.
Rats half the manuscript have eat :
Dire hunger! which we still regret;
ol may they ne'er again digelt
The horrors of so fad a feast.
Yet less our grief, if what remains,
Dear Jacob, by thy care and pains
Shall be to future times convey'd.
It thus begins :

* * * * Here Matthew said :

Alma in verse; in profe, the Mind,
By Aristotle's pen defin’d,
Throughout the body squat or tall,
1s bona fide, all in all.
And yet, flap-dash, is all again
In ev'ry linew, nerve, and vein :
Runs here and there like Hamlet's ghost;
While every where the rules the roast.

This Systems, Richard, we are told,
The men of Oxford firmly hold.
The Cambridge wits, you know, deny
With ipfe dixit to comply.

They say (for in good truth they speak
With small respect of that old Greek)
That putting all his words together,
'Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder.

Alma, they strenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horse on her throne the brain;
And from that feat of thought dispenses
Her sov'reign pleasure to the senses.
Two optic nerves, they say, she ties,
Like fpectacles, across the eyes;
By which the spirits bring her word,
Whene'er the balls are fix'd, or stirr'd;
How quick at park and play they strike ;
The Duke they court; the toast they like;
And at St. James's turn their grace
From former friends, now out of place.

Without these aids, to be more serious,
Her pow'r, they hold, had been precarious:
The eyes might have conspir'd her ruin ;
And she not known, what they were doing.
Foolish it had been, and unkind,
That they should fee, and she be blind.

Wise nature likewise, they suppose,
Has drawn two conduits down our noses
Could Alma else with judgment tell,
When Cabbage stinks, or Rofes (mell?
Or who would ask for her opinion
Between an Oyster and an Onion ?
For from most bodies, Dick, you know,
Some little bits ask leave to flow;
And, as through these canals they roll,
Bring up a sample of the whole.

Like footmen running before coaches,
To tell the inn, what lord approaches.
- By nerves about our palate plac'd,
She likewise judges of the taste.

Else (dismal thought !) our warlike men
Might drink thick Port for fine Champagne;
And our ill-judging wives and daughters
Mistake small beer for Citron waters.

Hence too, that she might better hear,
She sets a drum at either car;
And loud or gentle, harsh or sweet,
Are, but the Alarums which they bcat.

Laft to enjoy her sense of feeling
(A thing she much delights to deal in)

A thousand little nerves the sends
Quite to our toes' and fingers' ends;
And these in gratitude again
Return their fpirits to the brain;
In which their figure being printed
(As just before, I think, I hinted)

Alma inform’d can try the case,
As she had been upon the place.

Thus, while the judge gives diff'rent journeys
To country counsel, and attornies;
He on the bench in quiet fits,
Deciding, as they bring the writs.
The Pope thus prays and fleeps at Rome,
And very seldom stirs from home;
Yet sending forth his holy spies,
And having heard what they advise,
He rules the church's bleit dominions,
And sets men's faith by his opinions.
VOL. II.

D