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Diamond in an Ethiop's ear,] There is neither morality, nor integrity, nor unity, nor universality in this poem.—The author of it is a Smart; I hope to see a Smartead published; I had my pocket picked the other day, as I was going through Paul's Church-yard, and I firmly believe it was this little author, as the man who can pun, will also pick a pocket.

JOHN DENNIS, Junior.

How rise from filth the violet and rose!
From emptiness how softest music flows!
How absence to possession adds a grace,
And modest vacancy to all gives place?
Contrasted when fair Nature's works we spy,
More they allure the mind and more they charm
the eye.

So from Hillario some effect may spring,
E'en him-that slight penumbra of a thing.”
Morpheus at length in the debate awoke,
Declar'd Hillario was the friend of ease,
And drowsily a few dull words he spoke-
And had a soporific pow'r to please,
Once more Hillario he pronounc'd with pain,
But at the very sound was lull'd to sleep again.

NOTES VARIORUM.

OVID.

quently exclaims, very fine!-O fine!-vastly
fine! Since the lucubration of Friday Jan. 26th
has been mentioned, we think proper to observe
talent at a motto-Quinbus Flestrin saith, "he
here that his Inspectorship has the most notable
take a specimen along with you. How aptly upon
is a tartar for that," and of this, learned reader,
the subject of music does he bid his readers
pluck grapes from the loaded vine!
Carpite de plenis pendentes vitibus uvas.
The above-mentioned Quinbus Flestrin, peremp
torily says, this line has been cavilled at by some
minor critics, because, "the grapes are sour;"
and indeed of that way of thinking is Macularius,
who hath been greatly astonished at the taste of
Hillario, in so frequently culling from Valerius
Flaccus. But he is clearly of opinion, that the
lines from Welstead and Dennis, are selected with
great judgment, and are hung out as proper signs
of what entertainment is to be furnished up to his'

Music flows,]"Persons of most genius," says the Inspector, Friday Jan. 26, Number 587, "have in general been the fondest of music; sir Isaac Newton was remarkable for his affection for harmony; he was scarce ever missed at the beginning of any performance, but was seldom seen at the end of it." And indeed of this opinion is M. Macularius; and he further adds, that if sir Isaac was still living, it is probable he would be at Inanity will ever be, &c.] Our author does not per's, but that he would not be at the end of it, the beginning of the Inspector's next song at Cuhere mean to list himself among the disputants concerning pure space, but the doctrine he would may be proved to a mathematical demonstration, advance, is, that nothing can come from nothing.ing time to them himself, and though he so frethough Hillario takes so much pleasure in beatIn so unbelieving an age as this, it is possible this tenet may not be received, but if the reader has a mind to see it handled at large, he may find it in Rumgurtius, vol. 16, pagina 1001. De hac re multum et turpiter hallucinantur scriptores tam exteri quam domestici. Spatium enim absolutum et relativum debent distingui, priusquam distincta esse possunt ; neque ulla alia regula ad normam rei metaphysicæ quadrabit,quam triplex consideratio de substantiâ inanitatis, sive entitate nihili, quæ quidem consideratio triplex ad unam reduci potest necessitatem; nempe idem spatium de quo jam satis dictum est. This opinion is further corroborated by the tracts of the society of Bourdeaux. Selon la distinction entre les choses, qui n'ont pas de difference, il nous faut absolument agréer, que les idées, qui ont frappé l'imagination, peuvent bien être effacées, pourvu qu'on ne s'avise pas d'oublier cet espace immense, qui environne toute la nature, et le systême des étoiles. Among our countrymen, I do not know any body that has handled this subject so well as the acurate Mr. Fielding, in his Essay upon Nothing, which the reader may find in the first volume of his Miscellanies; but with all due deference to his authority, we beg leave to dissent from one assertion in the said essay; the residence of nothing might in his time have been in a critic's head, and we are apt to believe that there is a something like nothing in most critic's heads to this day, and this false appearance misled the excellent metaphysician just quoted; for nothing, in its puris naturalibus, as Gravesend describes it in his experimental philosophy, does subsist no where so properly at present as in the pericranium of our hero,

MART. MACULARIUS.

customers.

Penumbra of a thing,] Whatever mean opinion Dr. Phoebus may entertain of his terrestrial brotalked of in a different manner, as will appear ther physician and poet, on Earth, Hillario is from the following parody on the lines prefixed by Mr. Dryden, to Milton's Paradise Lost.

Three wise great men in the same era born,
Britannia's happy island did adorn,
Henley in care of souls display'd his skill,
Rock shone in physic, and in both John H-ll,
The force of Nature could no farther go,
To make a third, she join'd the former two.
QUINBUS FLESTrin.
Lull'd to sleep again.] The hypnotic, or sopo-

Momus the last of all, in merry mood,

As moderator in th' assembly stood.
"Ye laughter-loving pow'rs, ye gods of mirth,
What! not regard my deputy on Earth?
Whose chymic skill turns brass to gold with ease,
And out of Cibber forges Socrates?
Whose genius makes consistencies to fight,
And forms an union betwixt wrong and right?
Who (five whole days in senseless malice past)
Repents, and is religious at the last?

NOTES VARIORUM.

riferous quality of Hillario's pen is manifest from the following asseveration, which was published in the New Craftsman, and is a letter from a tradesman in the city.

"Sir,

"From a motive of gratitude, and for the sake
of those of my fellow-creatures, who may unhap-
pily be afflicted, as I have been for some time
past, I beg leave, through the channel of
your
paper, to communicate the disorder I have la-
boured under, and the extraordinary cure I have
lately met with. I have had for many months
successively a slow nervous fever, with a constant
flutter on my spirits, attended with pertinacious
watchings, twitchings of the nerves, and other
grievous symptoms, which reduced me to a mere
shadow. At length, by the interposition of di-
vine Providence, a friend who had himself ex-
perienced it, advised me to have recourse to the
reading of the Inspectors. I accordingly took one
of them, and the effect it had upon me was such
that I fell into a profound sleep, which lasted
near six and thirty hours. By this I have at-
tained a more composed habit of body, and I now
doze away almost all my time, but for fear of a
lethargy, am ordered to take them in smaller
quantities. A paragraph at a time now answers
my purpose, and under Heaven I owe my sleep-
ing powers to the above-mentioned Inspectors.
I look upon them to be a grand soporificum mi-
rabile, very proper to be had in all families. He
makes great allowance to those who buy them to
sell again, or to send abroad to the plantations;
and the above fact I am ready to attest whenever
called upon.
Given under my hand this 4th day
of January, 1753.

Humphrey Roberts, Weaver, in Crispin-
street, Spital-fields, opposite the White
Horse."

Forges Socrates,] Socrates was the father of the truest philosophy that ever appeared in the world, and though he has not drawn God's image, which was reserved for the light of the gospel, he has at least given the shadow, which together with his exemplary life, induces Erasmus to cry out, Sancte Socrates, ora pro nobis ; of Mr. Cibber we shall say nothing, as he has said abundantly enough of himself; but to illustrate the poet's meaning in this passage, it may be necessary to observe, that when the British worthy was indisposed some time since, the Inspector did not hesitate to prefer him to the god-like ancient philosopher. O te, Bollane, cerebri felicem.

M. MACULARIUS.

Consistencies to fight,] Alluding to his egregious talent at distinctions without a difference.

Religious at the last?] On every Saturday the

A paltry play'r, that in no parts succeeds,
A hackney writer, whom no mortal reads.

NOTES VARIORUM.

florid Hillario becomes, in Woodward's phrase, a
lay preacher; but his flimsy, heavy, impotent
lucubrations have rather been of prejudice to the
good old cause; and we hear that there is now
preparing for the press, by a very eminent di-
vine, a defence of Christianity against the misre-
presentations of a certain officious writer; and
for the present we think proper to apply an epi-
gram, occasioned by a dispute between two beaux
concerning religion.

On grace, free will, and mystʼries high,
Two wits harangu'd the table;

J-n H-Il believes he knows not why,
Tom swears 'tis all a fable.

Peace, idiots, peace, and both agree,
Tom kiss thy empty brother;
Religion laughs at foes like thee,

But dreads a friend like t'other.

A paltry play'r, &c.] It appears that the first effort of this universal genius, who is lately be. come remarkable as the Bobadil of literature, was to excel in Pantomine. What was the event?

he was damned.—Mr. Cross, the prompter, took great pains to fit him for the part of Oroonoko-he was damned. He attempted Captain

Blandford-be was damned. He acted Constant in the Provok'd Wife-he was damned.-He represented the Botanist in Romeo and Juliet, at the Little Theatre in the Hay-market, under the direction of Mr. The. Cibber-he was damned,— He appeared in the character of Lothario, at the celebrated theatre in May-Fair-he was damned there too. Mr. Cross, however, to alleviate his misfortune, charitably bestowed upon him a 15th part of his own benefit. See the Gentleman's Magazine for last December, and also Woodward's letter, passim.

No mortal read.] Notwithstanding this assertion of Momus, our hero pro eâ quâ est verecundia, compareth himself to Addison and Steele, which occasioned the following epigram, by the right hon. the earl * * * addressed to the right honourable G―e D-n.

Art thou not angry, learning's great protector,
To hear that flimsy author, the Inspector,
Of cant, of puff, that daily vain inditer,
Call Addison, or Steele, his brother writer?
So a pert H-1 (in Æsop's fabling days)
Swoln up with vanity, and self-giv'n praise,
To his huge neighbour mountain might have
said,

"See, (brother) how We Mountains lift the
head!

How great we show! how awful and how high,
Amidst these paultry Mounts, that here around

us lie."

And now, reader, please to observe, that since so ingenious a nobleman hath condescended to take notice of his Inspectorship, Mr. Smart doth not need any apology for the notice he hath also taken of him.

M. MACULARIUS,

The trumpet of a base deserted cause,
Damn'd to the scandal of his own applause;
While thus he stands a general wit confest,
With all these titles, all these talents blest,
Be he by Jove's authority assign'd,
The universal butt of all mankind.”

So spake and ceas'd the joy-exciting god,
And Jove immediate gave th' assenting nod,
When Fame her adamantine trump uprear'd,
And thus th' irrevocable doom declar'd.

"While in the vale perennial fountains flow,
And fragrant zephyrs musically blow,
While the majestic sea from pole to pole,
In horrible magnificence shall roll,
While yonder glorious canopy on high
Shall overhang the curtains of the sky,

While the gay seasons their due course shall run,
Ruled by the brilliant stars and golden Sun,
While wit and fool antagonists shall be,
And sense and taste and nature shall agree,
While love shall live, and rapture shall rejoice,
Fed by the notes of Handel, Arne and Boyce,
While with joint force o'er humour's droll domain,
Cervantes, Fielding, Lucian, Swift shall reign,
While thinking figures from the canvas start,
And Hogarth is the Garrick of his art.

NOTES VARIORUM.

So long in gross stupidity's extreme,
Shall H-1 th' arch-dunce remain o'er every
dunce supreme."

NOTES VARIORUM.

Mr. Hogarth entertains of our hero's writings, may be guessed at, by any one who will take the pleasure of looking at a print called Beer-street, in which Hillario's critique upon the Royal Society is put into a basket directed to the trunkmaker in St. Paul's Church-yard. I shall only just observe that the same compliment in this passage to Mr. Hogarth is reciprocal, and reflects a lustre on Mr. Garrick, both of them having sielevation, and of representing the ordinary scenes milar talents, equally capable of the highest of life, with the most exquisite humour.

As

Conclusion] And now, candid reader, Martinus Macularius hath attended thee throughout the first book of this most delectable poem. after the particulars relating to this thy commenit is not improbable that those will be inquisitive tator, he here gives thee notice that he is preparing for the press, Memoirs of Martinus Macularius, with his travels by sea and land, together with his flights aerial, and descents subterraneous, &c. And in the mean time he bids thee farewell, until the appearance of the second book cula promet. And so as Terence says, Vos valete of the Hilliad, of which we will say, speciosa mira& plaudite.

THE

JUDGMENT OF MIDAS,

A MASQUE.

Auriculas Asini Mida Rex habet. Juv.

The trumpet, &c.] In a very pleasant account of the riots in Drury-lane play-house, by Henry Fielding, esq. we find the following humorous description of our hero ip the character of a trumpeter. "They all ran away Except the trumpeter, who having an emprema in his side, as well as several dreadful bruises on his breech, was taken. When he was brought before Garrick to be examined, he said the ninnies, to whom he had the honour to be trumpeter, had resented the use made of the monsters by Garrick. That it was unfair, that it was cruel, that it was inhuman to employ a man's own subjects against him. That Rich was lawful sovereign over all the monsters in the universe, with much more of the same kind; all which Garrick seemed to think unworthy of an answer; but when the trumpeter challenged him as his acquaintance, the chief with great disdain turned his back, and ordered the fellow to be dismissed with full power of trumpeting again on what side he pleased." Hillario has since trumpeted in the cause of pantomime, the gaudy scepery of which with great judgment he dismisses from the Opera-house, and saith, it is now fixed in its proper place in the theatre. On this occasion, Macularius cannot help exclaiming, "O Shakespear! O Jonson! rest, rest, perturbed | Timolus, Melinoe, and Agno, two Woodspirits."

APOLLO.
PAN.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

TIMOLUS, God of the Mountain.
MIDAS.
CALLIOPE.
MELPOMENE.

MELINDE,
SATYRS, &c.

two Wood-Nymphs.

nymphs.

TIMOLUS.

Handel, Arne, and Boyce,] The first of these gentlemen may be justly looked upon as the Milton of music, and the talents of the two latter AGNO, to day we wear our acorn crown, may not improperly be delineated by calling The parsley wreath be thine; it is most meet them the Drydens of their profession, as they not only touch the strings of love with exquisite art, With all the honours of our woodland weeds. We grace the presence of these rival gods but also, when they please, reach the truly su-Thine was the task, Melinoe, to prepare blime. The turf-built theatre, the boxen bow'r,

Hogarth is the Garrick, &c.] The opinion which And all the sylvan scenery.

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'Tis well remark'd, and on experience founded. I do remember that my sister Ida

(When as on her own shadowy mount we met,
To celebrate the birth-day of the Spring,
And th' orgies of the May) wou'd oft recount
The rage of the indignant goddesses,
When shepherd Paris to the Cyprian queen,
With hand obsequious gave the golden toy.
Heav'n's queen, the sister and the wife of Jove,
Rag'd like a feeble mortal; fall'n she seem'd,
Her deity in human passions lost:

Ev'n wisdom's goddess, jealous of her form,
Deem'd her own attribute her second virtue.
Both vow'd and sought revenge.

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That such an umpire shou'd be equitable,
Unless he guess at justice.

TIMOLUS.

Soft-no more

'Tis ours to wish for Pan, and fear from Phœbus, Whose near approach I hear. Ye stately cedars, Forth from your summits bow your awful heads, And reverence the gods. Let my whole mountain tremble,

Not with a fearful, but religious awe,
And holiness of horror. You, ye winds,
That make soft, solemn music 'mongst the leaves,
Be all to stillness hush'd; and thou, their echo,
Listen, and hold thy peace; for see they come.
Scene opens, and discovers Apollo, attended by
Clio and Melpomene, on the right hand of
Midas, and Pan on the left, whom Timolus, with
Agno and Melinoe, join.

MIDAS.

Begin, celestial candidates for praise,
Begin the tuneful contest: I, mean while,
With heedful notice and attention meet,

Will weigh your merits, and decide your cause.

APOLLO.

From Jove begin the rapturous song,
To him our earliest lays belong,

We are his offspring all;

'Twas he, whose looks supremely bright, Smil'd darksome chaos into light, And fram'd this glorious ball.

PAN.

Sylvanus, in his shadowy grove,
The seat of rural peace and love,

Attends my Doric lays;

By th' altar on the myrtle mount, [fount, Where plays the wood-nymph's favourite I'll celebrate his praise.

CLIO.

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Enter two Satyrs, and crown MIDAS with a pair of ass's ears.

APOLLO.

Such rural honours all the gods decree,

To those who sing like Pan, and judge like thee. [Exeunt omnes.

REASON AND IMAGINATION.
A FABLE.

IMAGINATION, in the flight

Of young desire and gay delight,
Began to think upon a mate;
As weary of a single state;
For sick of change, as left at will,
And cloy'd with entertainment still,
She thought it better to be grave,
To settle, to take up, and save.
She therefore to her chamber sped,
And thus at first attir'd her head.
Upon her hair, with brilliants grac'd,
Her tow'r of beamy gold she plac'd;
Her ears with pendent jewels glow'd
Of various water, curious mode,
As nature sports the wintry ice,
In many a whimsical device.
Her eye-brows arch'd upon the stream
Of rays, beyond the piercing beam;
Her cheeks in matchless colour high,
She veil'd to fix the gazer's eye;
Her paps, as white as fancy draws,
She cover'd with a crimson gauze;
And on her wings she threw perfume
From buds of everlasting bloom.
Her zone, ungirded from her vest,
She wore across her swelling breast;
On which, in gems, this verse was wrought,
"I make and shift the scenes of thought."
In her right hand a wand she held,
Which magic's utmost pow'r excell'd ;
And in her left retain'd a chart,
With figures far surpassing art,
Of other natures, suns and moons,
Of other moves to higher tunes.
The sylphs and sylphids, fleet as light,
The fairies of the gamesome night,
The muses, graces, all attend
Her service, to her journey's end:
And Fortune, sometimes at her hand,
Is now the fav'rite of her band,
Dispatch'd before the news to bear,
And all th' adventure to prepare.

Beneath an holm-tree's friendly shade,
Was Reason's little cottage made;
Before, a river deep and still;

Behind, a rocky soaring hill.
Himself, adorn'd in seemly plight,
Was reading to the eastern light;
And ever, as he meekly knelt,
Upon the Book of Wisdom dwelt.
The spirit of the shifting wheel,
Thus first essay'd his pulse to feel.
"The nymph supreme o'er works of wit,
O'er labour'd plan, and lucky bit,

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