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and underneath it, a heavy lump. A. P. W. B. L. E. The Right Hon. E. of S.

These are the chief Characteriflicks of the Bathos, and in each of these kinds we have the comfort to be bleffed with fundry and manifold choice Spirits in this our Ifland.

CHAP. VII.

Of the Profund, when it confifts in the

WE

Thought.

E have already laid down the Principles upon which our author is to proceed, and the manner of forming his Thought by familiarizing his mind to the lowest objects; to which it may be added, that Vulgar Conversation will greatly contribute. There is no queftion but the Garret or the Printer's boy may often be difcerned in the compofitions made in fuch fcenes and company; and much of Mr. Curl himself has been infenfibly infused into the works of his learned writers.

The Physician, by the study and inspection of urine and ordure, approves himself in the fcience; and in like fort fhould our author accuftom and exercise his imagination upon the dregs of nature.

This will render his thoughts truly and fundamentally low, and carry him many fathoms

beyond Mediocrity. For, certain it is (tho' fome lukewarm heads imagine they may be fafe by temporizing between the extremes) that where there is not a Triticalnefs or Mediocrity in, the Thought, it can never be funk into the genuine and perfect Bathos, by the most elaborate low Expreffion: It can, at moft, be only carefully obfcured, or metaphorically debased. But 'tis the Thought alone that strikes, and gives the whole that spirit, which we admire and ftare at. For instance, in that ingenious piece on a lady's drinking the Bath-waters;

She drinks! She drinks! Behold the matchlefs
dame!

To her 'tis water, but to us 'tis flame :
Thus fire is water, water fire by turns,

And the fame fiream at once both cools and burns.

What can be more eafy and unaffected than the Diction of these verses? 'Tis the Turn of Thought alone, and the Variety of Imagination, that charm and furprize us. And when the fame lady goes into the Bath, the Thought (as in juftnefs it ought) goes ftill deeper.

* Venus beheld her, 'midft her croud of flaves, And thought herself just rifen from the waves.

How much out of the way of common sense is this reflection of Venus, not knowing herself from the lady?

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Of the fame nature is that noble mistake of a frighted stag in full chase, who (faith the Poet)

Hears his own feet, and thinks they found like more, And fears the hind feet will o'ertake the fore. So aftonishing as these are, they yield to the following, which is Profundity itself,

* None but Himself can be his Parallel.

Unless it may seem borrowed from the Thought of that Master of a Show in Smithfield, who writ in large letters, over the picture of his elephant,

This is the greatest Elephant in the world, except Himfelf.

However our next instance is certainly an original: Speaking of a beautiful infant,

So fair thou art, that if great Cupid be
A child, as Poets fay, fure thou art be.
Fair Venus would miftake thee for her own,
Did not thy eyes proclaim thee not her fon.
There all the lightnings of thy Mother's fhine,
And with a fatal brightness kill in thine.

First he is Cupid, then he is not Cupid; first Venus would mistake him, then fhe would not mistake him; next his eyes are his Mother's, and laftly they are not his Mother's, but his own.

Theobald, Double Falfhood,

Another author, defcribing a Poet that shines forth amidst a circle of Critics,

Thus Phoebus thro' the Zodiac takes his way,
And amid Monsters rifes into day.

What a peculiarity is here of invention? The Author's pencil, like the wand of Circe, turns all into monsters at a stroke. A great Genius takes things in the lump, without stopping at minute confiderations: In vain might the ram, the bull, the goat, the lion, the crab, the fcorpion, the fishes, all stand in his way, as mere natural animals, much more might it be pleaded that a pair of scales, an old man, and two innocent children, were no monsters: There were only the Centaur and the Maid that could be efteemed out of nature. But what of that? with a boldness peculiar to thefe daring genius's, what he found not monsters, he made fo.

CHA P. VIII.

Of the Profund, confifting in the Circumftances, and of Amplification and Periphrafe in general.

WH

HAT in a great meafure diftinguishes other writers from ours, is their chufing and feparating fuch circumftances in a defcription as ennoble or elevate the fubject.

The circumstances which are most natural are obvious, therefore not aftonishing or peculiar. But those that are far-fetched, or unexpected, or hardly compatible, will furprize prodigiously. Thefe therefore we must principally hunt out; but above all, preserve a laudable Prolixity; presenting the whole and every fide at once of the image to view. For Choice and Distinction are not only a curb to the fpirit, and limit the defcriptive faculty, but also leffen the book; which is frequently of the worst confequence of all to our author.

When Job fays in fhort, "He washed his "feet in butter," (a circumstance fome Poets would have softened, or paffed over) now hear how this butter is fpread out by the great Genius.

• With teats diftended with their milky ftore,
Such num'rous lowing herds, before my door,
Their painful burden to unload did meet,
That we with butter might have wash'd our feet.

How cautious! and particular! He had (fays our author) fo many herds, which herds thriv'd so well, and thriving fo well gave so much milk, and that milk produced fo much butter, that, if he did not, he might have wash'd his feet in it. The enfuing defcription of Hell is no less remarkable in the circumftances.

In flaming heaps the raging ocean rolls,
Whofe livid waves involve defpairing fouls ;

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Blackm. Job, p. 133.

• Pr. Arth. p. 89.

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