HIS EVER HONOURED THE COUNTESS OF ILCHESTER, FROM THE AUTHOR. What though Apollo might his aid refuse, To condemn others' follies, and pardon their own? Every Madman lies fnug, and, though crackt through and through, Sends his Neighbour to Bedlam without more ado. A Pedant, who worships the books on his shelves, That That a Burke, or a Fox, hardly knows how to speak, And good fenfe can alone be expreffed in the Greek: Had the Authors he reads, or the Bards whom he quotes, Been content with collections of other men's thoughts, Old Homer had flood on a level with me, And the Stagyrite just such a blockhead as he. In the Greek! cries my Lord-Do not Critics agree "Tis in Cypher, and send us to look for a Key? Ah the Graces!-thefe only our thoughts fhould employ, And all Arts be reduced to the Je ne fcai quoi. A Senator, high in his Sovereign's grace, "For Finance-what is that?"-'Tis the Logic of State; Which proves we must purchase the means to be great; That, to make the machine with facility roll, A Part muft difpofe of the wealth of the Whole ; Calls in queftion our right to what Nature has given, And corrects all mistakes in the juftice of Heaven. See Note I. at the end. Let |