which, you know, change the nature of a known word; by applying it to some other signification: and this is it which Horace means in his Epistle to the Pisos :

"Dixeris egregie, notum si callida verbum

"Reddiderit junctura novum"

But I am sensible I have presumed too far to entertain you with a rude discourse of that art which you both know so well, and put into practice with so much happiness. Yet before I leave Virgil, I must own the vanity to tell you, and by you the world, that he has been my master in this Poem; I have followed him every where; I know not with what success, but I am sure with diligence enough: my images are many of them copied from him, and the rest are imitations of him. My expressions also are as near as the idioms of the two languages would admit of in translation. And this, Sir, I have done with that boldness for which I will stand accountable to any of our little critics, who, perhaps, are no better acquainted with him than I am. Upon your first peru sal of this Poem, you have taken notice of some words which I have innovated (if it be too bold for me to say refined) upon his Latin; which, as I offer not to introduce into English prose, so I hope they are neither improper, nor altogether unelegant, in verse; and, in this, Horace will again defend me.

"Et nova, fictaque nuper, habebunt verba fidem, si
"Græco fonte cadunt, parse detorta”-

The inference is exceeding plain: for if a Roman poet might have liberty to coin a word, supposing only that it was derived from the Greek, was put in. to a Latin termination, and that he used this liberty but seldom, and with modesty; how much more justly may I challenge that privilege to do it, with the same prerequisites, from the best and most judicious of Latin writers? In some places, where either the fancy or the words were his, or any other's, I have noted it in the margin, that I might not seem a plagiary; in others I have neglected it, to avoid as well tedious. ness as the affectation of doing it too often. Such descriptions or images, well wrought, which I promise not for mine, are, as I have said, the adequate delight of heroic peesy for they beget admiration, which is its proper object; as the images of the bur lesque, which is contrary to this, by the same reason, beget laughter for the one shews Nature beautified, as in the picture of a fair woman, which we all admire; the other shews her deformed, as in that of a lazar, or of a fool, with distorted face and antique gestures, at which we cannot forbear to laugh, because it is a deviation from Nature. But though the same images serve equally for the epic poesy, and for the historic and panegyric, which are branches of it, yet a several sort of sculpture is to be used in them. If some of them are to be like those of Juvenal, "Stantes in cur ribus Æmiliani,” heroes drawn in their triumphal

chariots, and in their full proportion: others are to be like that of Virgil, "Spirantia mollius æra:" there is somewhat more of softness and tenderness to be shewn in them. You will soon find I write not this without concern. Some, who have seen a paper of verses which I wrote last year to her Highness the Duchess, have accused them of that only thing 1 could defend in them. They said, I did "Humi ser"pere" that I wanted not only height of fancy, but dignity of words, to set it off. I might well answer with that of Horace, "Nunc non erat his locus;" I knew I addressed them to a lady, and accordingly I affected the softness of expression, and the smooth. ness of measure, rather than the height of thought; and in what I did endeavour, it is no vanity to say I have succeeded. I detest arrogance; but there is some difference betwixt that and a just defence. But I will not farther bribe your candour, or the reader's. I leave them to speak for me; and, if they can, to make out that character, not pretending to a greater, which I have given them.

And now, Sir, it is time I should relieve you from the tedious length of this account. You have better and more profitable employment for your hours, and I wrong the public to detain you longer. In conclu sion, I must leave my Poem to you with all its faults, which I hope to find fewer in the printing by your emendations. I know you are not of the number of

those of whom the younger Pliny speaks; "Nec sunt

parum multi, qui carpere amicos suos judicium vo"cant:" I am rather too secure of you on that side. Your candour in pardoning my errors may make you more remiss in correcting them, if you will not withal consider that they come into the world with your approbation, and through your hands. I beg from you the greatest favour you can confer upon an absent perfon, since I repose upon your management what is dearest to me, my fame and repuation; and therefore I hope it will stir you up to make my Poem fairer by many of your blots; if not, you know the story of the gamester, who married the rich man's daughter, and, when her father denied the portion, christened all the children by his sirname, that if, in conclusion, they must beg, they should do so by one name as well as by the other. But since the reproach of my faults will light on you, it is but reason I should do you that justice to the readers, to let them know, that, if there be any thing tolerable in this Poem, they owe the argu ment to your choice, the writing to your encouragement, the correction to your judgment, and the care of it to your friendship, to which he must ever acknowledge himself to owe all things, who is,

TO THE METROPOLIS OF GREAT BRITAIN,

The most Renowned and late Flourishing

CITY OF LONDON,

IN ITS REPRESENTATIVES

The Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen, the Sheriffs, and ·Council of it.

As

s perhaps I am the first who ever presented a work of this nature to the metropolis of any nation, so it is likewise consonant to justice, that he who was to give the first example of such a Dedication, should begin it with that City which has set a pattern to all others of true loyalty, invincible courage, and unshaken constancy. Other cities have been praised for the same virtues, but I am much deceived if any have so dearly purchased their reputation; their fame has been won them by cheaper trials than an expensive, though necessary war, a consuming pestilence, and a more consuming fire. To submit yourselves with that humility to the judgments of Heaven, and, at the same lime, to raise yourselves with that vigour above all human enemies; to be combated at once from above and from below, to be struck down and to triumph; I know not whether such trials have been ever paralleled in any nation; the resolution and successes of hem never can be. Never had Prince or People more