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OR,

THE PROGRESS OF THE MIND.

IN THREE CANTOS.

Πάλα γέλως καὶ πάνια κονις, καὶ πάντα το μηδὲν
Πάνια γὰρ ἐξ ἀλόγων ἐςὶ τὰ γιγνόμενα.

CANTO I.

,

Incert, ap. Stoboeum.

MATTHEW 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 manufcript have ate;
Dire hunger! which we ftill regret;
O may they ne'er again digest
The horrors of fo fad a feaft;
Yet lefs our grief, if what remains,
Dear Jacob, by thy care and pains
Skall be to future times convey'd:
It thus begins:

**** Here Matthew faid,

Alma in verfe, in profe, the mind, By Ariftotle's pen defin'd, Throughout the body squat or tall, Is bona fide, all in all:

And yet, flapdafh, is all again

In ev'ry finew, nerve, and vein;

Runs here and there, like Hamlet's ghoft,

While ev'ry where the rules the roast.
This fyftem, Richard, we are told
The men of Oxford firmly hold :
The Cambridge wits, you know, deny
With ipfe dixit to comply :

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They fay, (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 ftrenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horfe on her throne, the brain,
And from that feat of thought difpenfes
Her fov'reign pleasure to the fenfes.
Two optic nerves, they fay, she ties,
Like fpectacle across the eyes,

By which the fpirits 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 toaft they like;
And at St. James's turn their grace
From former friends, now out of place.
Without thefe aids, to be more ferious,
Her pow'r they hold had been precarious;
The eyes might have confpir'd her ruin,
And the not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been and unkind
That they should fee and fhe be blind.
Wife Nature, likewife, they fuppofe,
Has drawn two conduits down our nofe:
Could Alma elfe with judgment tell
When cabbage ftinks or rofes fmell?
Or who would ask for her opinion
Between an oyster and an onion ?
For from most bodies, Dick, you know,
Some little bits afk leave to flow,
And as thro' these canals they roll,
Bring up a fample of the whole;
Like footmen running before coaches,
To tell the inn what lord approaches.
By nerves about our palate plac'd,
She likewife judges of the tafte;

Elfe (difmal thought!) our warlike men
Might drink thick Port for fine Champaign,
And our ill-judging wives and daughtes,
Miftake finall-beer for citron-waters.

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Hence, too, that he might better hear,
She fets a drum at either ear,
And loud or gentle, harfh or fweet,
Are but the alarums which they beat.

Laft, to enjoy her fenfe of feeling,
(A thing the much delights to deal in)
A thoufand little nerves fhe fends
Quite to our toes and fingers' ends,
And thefe, in gratitude, again
Return their spirits to the brain,
In which their figure being printed,
(As juft before I think I hinted)
Alma inform'd can try the cafe,
As she had been upon the place.

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Thus while the judge gives diff'rent journies

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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 feldom ftirs from home,
Yet fending forth his holy fpies,
And having heard what they advise,
He rules the church's bleft dominions,
And fets men's faith by his opinions.
The scholars of the Stagyrite,

Who for the old opinion fight,

Would make their modern friends confefs
The diff'rence but from more or lefs:
The Mind, fay they, while you fuftain
To hold her ftation in the brain,
You grant, at least, fhe is extended,
Ergo, the whole difpute is ended:
For till to-morrow fhould you plead,
From form and structure of the head,
The Mind as vifibly is seen
Extended thro' the whole machine.
Why fhould all honour then be ta'en
From lower parts to load the brain,
When other limbs we plainly fee
Each in his way as brisk as he?
VOL. II.

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100

For mufic, grant the head receives it,
It is the artift's hand that gives it:
And tho' the skull may wear the laurel,
The foldier's arm fuftains the quarrel.
Befides, the noftrils, ears, and eyes,
Are not his parts, but his allies:
E'en what you hear the tongue proclaim,
Comes ab origine from them.
What could the head perform alone
If all their friendly aids were gone?
A foolish figure we must make,
Do nothing elfe but fleep and ake.

Nor matters it that you can fhow
How to the head the fpirits go;
Thofe fpirits started from fome goal
Before they thro' the veins could roll;
Now we fhould hold them much to blame
If they went back before they came.
If, therefore, as we must fuppofe,
They came from fingers and from toes,
Or toes or fingers, in this cafe,

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Of numfkull's felf fhould take the place;

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(As all our youth may learn from Creech)

That eyes were made, but could not view,

Nor hands embrace, nor feet purfue,

But heedlefs Nature did produce

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The members firft, and then the use:
What each muft act was yet unknown,
Till all is mov'd by Chance alone.

A man firft builds a country-feat,
Then finds the walls not good to eat.

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Another plants, and wond'ring, fees
Nor books nor medals on his trees.
Yet poet and philofopher

Was he who durft fuch whims aver.
Bleft for his fake be human reason,
That came at all, tho' late, in feafon.

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That taught them both to fow and knead.
Before they're afk'd can maids refuse?

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Can-Pray, fays Dick, hold in your Mufe,
While you Pindaric truths rehearse,
She hobbles in alternate verfe.

Verfe! Matt. reply'd; is that my care?
Go on, quoth Richard, foft and fair.
This looks, friend Dick, as Nature had
But exercis'd the falefman's trade;
As if the haply had fat down

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And cut out clothes for all the Town,

Then fent them out to Monmouth street

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To try what perfons they would fit;
But ev'ry free and licens'd tailor
Would in this thefis find a failure.

Should whims like thefe his head perplex,
How could he work for either fex!

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His clothes as atoms might prevail,

Might fit a pifmire or a whale.

No, no he views with ftudious pleasure

Your fhape before he takes your measure :

For real Kate he made the bodice,

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And not for an ideal goddefs.

No error near his shopboard lurk'd;

He knew the folks for whom he work'd:
Still to their fize he aim'd his skill,
pray thee who would pay his bill?

Elfe

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