entrance as, prudently managed, might furnish the lofty town apartments or pastoral villa of a modern poet. On the contrary, he reserves all his finery of carving and gilding, as well as his pictures and cabinets, for their proper places within.

But for the further illustration of his meaning, he chooses to have recourse to allusions more nearly related to his subject, such as the prelude to a song, or the prologue to a play; there being evidently a great affinity between rhyming and fiddling, writing verses and playing the fool.

Another consideration which greatly influenced the author in this point, was the respect which he bears to the Public. For conceiving himself now in the very act of making his appearance before every circle of the polite and learned world, he was struck with awe, and felt as if he had been guilty of some indecorum; like a person abruptly breaking into good company with his hat on, or without making a bow. For though by his situation in life he is happily relieved from any personal embarrassment of this kind, yet he considers his book as his proxy; and he would by no means have his proxy guilty of such an impropriety as to keep his hat on before all the learned men of Europe, or to omit making his bow upon being admitted to an audience, or presented in the drawingroom.

Great is the force of this little article of gesticulation, from the lowest class of orators in the street, to those in the highest departments of life; insomuch that it has been thought a prudent, attentive, and skilful manager, either on the stage, or at the bar, as well as the bowing Dean in his walk, may acquire as much success, amongst polite and well bred people, and particularly the ladies (who are the best judges), by the magic of his bow, as by any other part of his action or oratory.

Yet notwithstanding all that the author has said concerning this external mark of reverence, he is sensible that there is a sect of cynical philosophers, who are so far from paying it due regard, that they count it no better than a refined species of idolatry, and an abomination utterly unbecoming so noble and erect a creature as man. Upon these gentlemen it is not to be expected that the best bow which the author or his book could make, would have any effect; and therefore he shall decline that ceremony with them, to take them by the hand in a friendly manner, hoping that they will make some allowance for his having been taught against his own consent to dance and scribble, from his infancy.

He is aware likewise that there is another sect of philosophers, whom his ingenious friend Mr. Graves', author of the Spiritual Quixote, distinguishes by the name of 'censorious Christians, who (as he expresses it) will not suffer a man to nod in his elbow chair, or to talk nonsense, without contradicting or ridiculing him.'-But as the writer of this admirable work has shown himself so able and successful a casuist, in a similar instance of a petulant and over officious zeal; he hopes these gentlemen will, in imitation of Mr. Wildgoose, for the future refrain from a practice so injurious to their neighbour's repose, and so contrary to all the laws of civility and good manners.

It is true, some of these literati may be considered under a more formidable character, from their custom of holding a monthly meeting, or office, for arraigning the conduct of all whom they suspect of maintaining heretical opinions contrary to their jurisdiction. In this view these good fathers scruple not to put an author upon the rack for the slightest offence; and not content with their claims of inspiration and infal

This ingenious writer and respectable man was rector of Claverton near Bath, and lived to attain the age of 90.

libility, will torture his own words to prove his guilt. In the execution of this office they judge all men by their own standard; and like the tyrant Proctustes, regardless of the acute pain they inflict at every stroke, will lop off a foot, or any other portion of an author's matter, or lengthen it out, as best suits their purpose, to bring him to their measure.

But to the inexpressible comfort of himself, and of every freeborn English writer, the author reflects that the competence of such a court cannot be admitted in a protestant country; and to speak the truth from experience, its power, as exercised among us, though still very tremendous, is tempered with a gentleness and moderation unknown to those of Spain and Portugal.

But though the author is not without hopes, by his complaisance and condescension, to conciliate the affections of all those various sects of the learned in every part of the world; yet his principal dependance is upon the gentle and humane, whose minds are always open to the feelings of others, as well as to the gratification of their own refined taste and sentiments; and to these he makes his appeal; which he hopes they will accept as a tribute due to their superior merit, and a testimony of the profound respect with which he is their

most obedient,

humble servant,

THE AUTHOR.

EDGE HILL.

A Poem.

IN FOUR BOOKS.

1767.

Salve, magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus, Magna virum! tibi res antiquæ laudis, et artis Ingredior; sanctos ausus recludere fontes.

VIRG.

OUR Sight is the most perfect, and most delightful of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyment.

Spect. No 411, on the Pleasures of Imagination.