thousands of years earlier in the annals of the world, the learned author would have coincided perfectly in opinion with our honest tars; that the Nabob Suraja Dowla was by no means an Indian prince, but a very genuine English knight, by the ftile and title of Sir Roger Dowlas.

W

BUT I muft draw to a conclufion.

When

I fent the first of these sheets to prefs, I intended to have touched upon several points, which more important engagements oblige me now to decline. I meant, in particular, to have confidered the learned gentleman's ideas of the Atlantides, the Argonauts, and the Amazons; of Perfeus, Hercules, Orpheus, Cadmus; with whom, as well as with many more of our old school-friends, he has played the very devil; or, which is worfe, he has metamorphofed them into Cuthites. Well! after all, thefe Cuthite woolly heads are the handyeft fellows imaginable. They are a wonderful menftruum. There is not a difficulty in ancient times which they do not diffolve at once. Like quack medicines, they cure all difeafes. They are fet a-fcampering over every inch of old heroic ground. They cut the throats of half the world, and cram the reft with science. They are, in fhort, Mungo here, Mungo there, Mungo everywhere. Indeed,

indeed, I am much afraid they have been put to rather too hard duty; and are, at length, thrown into a galloping confumption. In charity then, I think their learned fire should prepare with decency for their interment. And if he has got never a better epitaph, he may take the hint from the firft creation of his favourite Belus:

SECT. VI.

CONCLUSION.

S the learned gentleman, towards the end of his Apology, has fuddenly changed from the third person, and apostrophized me in the first, I fhall do myself the honour of imitating him at a respectful distance.

I BEG leave, Sir, to return you my beft acknowledgments for the kind notice you have taken of me. I have only my concern to exprefs for one circumstance; and that indeed is for your own reputation: to which I think you have not been fufficiently attentive. So excellent a performance as your Apology, fhould not have been circulated in fo private a manner. There are many good things in it, which it were a pity should be fo much loft to the public. I flatter myself I you will reflect upon this; and make it the prologue or epilogue to the third edition of your Analyfis. And this, let me tell you, may answer, at the fame time, another good purpose. It will place it more in fecurity

from pirates for really, in its prefent fugi-
tive state, it is greatly to be feared, that the
proprietors of Joe Millar's Jefts, or The Pills
to purge Melancholly, may think it fair game;
and enrich their facetious publications with
your Coftive Lord, Sam foel, Dr. Baldero,
and many more of your very best things:
if indeed they have them not already; which
I have, at prefent, no opportunity of learning.*

IF I have not paid a proper attention to every valuable obfervation, with which your Apology abounds, I beg you will attribute it to the true caufe; want of time. You have, among other things, repeatedly observed, that I had borrowed from you largely; and I really thought that I had, in return, made every acknowledgment and reference usual on such occafions. But as you do not seem to have fo conceived it, I shall request your permiffion to infert an exact bill of parcels in the notes. Indeed your zeal, upon this occafion, is most commendable for, as Horace says,

· fi fortè fuas repetitum venerit olim Grex avium plumas, moveat cornicula rifum Furtivis nudata coloribus.

You, Sir, I am fenfible, have judged more prudently than I have done. You have fteered clear of live authors. You have made free only with the dead; and they tell no tales.

They are not clamorous creditors. They briftle not up their porcupine quills. Thefe, without acknowledgment, you may borrow from and abuse. They still are filent.

YOUR flattering compliment on my veneration for ignorance, is alfo conveyed with your usual pleasantry *. Indeed, Sir, I know but little and it is natural enough to like what affimilates with one's own ideas. Upon the prefent great occafion too, I am afraid, I have helped rather to confirm your opinion: for, had I been at all wife, I should certainly have called in the affistance of my learned friends; to have enabled me to make a fhow above my own flender means. But, juft as I was thinking of this, happening to read in old Æfop, how the gnat went boldly to attack the lion; and how he tickled the lion's noftril; and how the lion fcratched himself, and roared: I faid, with old Kecksey in the farce, Who's afraid? My little band fhall take the field alone. I derived courage alfo, from the confideration, that infantry have, in general, the better of cavalry and, as I could not doubt, but your

* "Indeed the author feems to fhew the fame veneration for ignorauce, as the Turks do for folly: who never fee an ideot but they think him inspired." Apology, p. 72.