Dip but your toes into cold water,
Their correfpondent teeth will chatter:
And, ftrike the bottom of your feet,
You fet your head into a heat.
The bully beat, and happy lover,
Confefs, that feeling lies all over.
Note here, Lucretius dares to teach
(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
The members firft, and then the use.
What each muft act was yet unknown,
Till all is moved by Chance alone.
A man first builds a country-feat;
Then finds the walls not good to eat.
Another plants, and wondering fees
Nor books nor medals on the trees.
Yet Poet and Philofopher
Was he, who durft fuch whims aver.
Bleft, for his fake, be human reason,
That came at all, though late in season.
But no man fure ere left his houfe,
And faddled Ball with thoughts fo wild,
To bring a midwife to his fpoufe,
Before he knew fhe was with child.
And no man ever reapt his corn,
Or from the oven drew his bread,
Ere hinds and bakers yet were born,
That taught them both to fow and knead.
Before they 're ask'd, can maids refuse?
Can-Pray, fays Dick, hold in your Mufe.
While you Pindaric truths rehearse,
She hobbles in ALTERNATE verfe.
Verfe! Mat reply'd; is that my care?
Go on, quoth Richard, foft and fair.
This looks, friend Dick, as Nature had
But exercis'd the SALESMAN's trade;
As if the haply had fet down,
And cut-out cloaths for all the town:
Then fent them out to Monmouth-street,
To try, what perfons they would fit;
But every free and licenc'd taylor
Would in this THESIS find a failure.
Should whims like thefe his head perplex,
How could he work for either fex;
His cloaths, as atoms might prevail,
Might fit a pifmire, or a whale.
No, no; he views with ftudious pleasure
Your shape, before he takes your measure.
For real Kate he made the boddice,
And not for an IDEAL goddess.
No error near his fhop-board lurk'd:
He knew the folks for whom he work'd;
Still to their fize he aim'd his fkill:
Elfe, pr'ythee, who would pay his bill?
Next, Dick, if chance herself should vary,
Obferve, how matters would miscarry :
B b
Across your eyes, friend place your shoes
Your fpectacles upon your toes:
Then and Memmius fhall agree,
you
How nicely men would walk, or fee.
But wisdom, peevish and cross-grain'd,
Must be oppos'd, to be fuftain'd.
And ftill your knowledge will increase,
As you make other people's lefs.
In arms and fcience 'tis the fame:
Our rival's hurts create our fame.
At Faubert's, if difputes arise
Among the champions for the prize;
the fairer butt,
prove who gave
John fhews the chalk on Robert's coat
So, for the honour of book,
your
It tells where other folks mistook;
And, as their notions you confound,
Those you invent get farther ground.
The commentators on old Ari-
ftotle ('tis urg'd) in judgment vary:
They to their own conceits have brought
The image of his general thought;
Juft as the melancholic eye'
Sees fleets and armies in the sky;
And to the poor apprentice ear
The bells found, "Whittington lord mayor. 'The conjuror thus explains his scHEME; Thus fpirits walk, and prophets dream;
North Britons thus have SECOND-SIGHT;
And Germans, free from gun-fhot, fight.
Theodoret and Origen,
And fifty other learned men,
Atteft, that, if their comments find
The traces of their mafter's mind,
Alma can ne'er decay nor die :
This flatly t' other fect deny ;
Simplicius, Theophraft, Durand,
Great names, but hard in verfe to ftand.
They wonder men fhould have mistook
The TENETS of their mafter's book;
And hold, that Alma yields her breath,
O'ercome by Age, and feiz'd by Death.
Now which were wife? and which were fools?
Poor Alma fits between two stools:
The more she reads, the more perplext;
The comment ruining the text:
Now fears, now hopes, her doubtful fate
But, Richard, let her look to that--
Whilft we our own affairs purfue.
Thefe different SYSTEMS, old or new,
A man with half an eye may fee,
Were only form'd to difagree.
Now, to bring things to fair conclufion,
And fave much Chriftian ink's effufion;
Let me propofe an healing SCHEME,
And fail along the middle ftream:
Bbz
For, Dick, if we could reconcile
Old Ariftotle with Gaffendus;
How many would admire our toil!
And yet how few would comprehend us!
Here, Richard, let my SCHEME commence
Oh! may my words be loft in fenfe!
While pleas'd Thalia deigns to write
The flips and bounds of Alma's flight.
My fimple SYSTEM fhall fuppofe,
That Alma enters at the toes;
That then the mounts by just degrees
Up to the ancles, legs, and knees;
Next, as the fap of life does rife,
She lends her vigour to the thighs;
And, all these under-regions paft,
She neftles fomewhere near the waift ;
Gives pain or pleasure, grief or laughter;
As we shall ffiew at large hereafter.
Mature, if not improv'd by time,
Up to the heart she loves to climb;
From thence, compell'd by craft and age,
She makes the head her lateft stage.
From the feet upward to the head-
Pithy and short, fays Dick, proceed.
Dick, this is not an idle notion :
Obferve the progress of the motion.
First, I demonstratively prove`
That feet were only made to move :
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