IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT.
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ogicians have but ill defin’dAs rational, the human mind;Reason, they say, belongs to man--But let them prove it, if they can.Wise Aristotle and Smiglecius,[35]By ratiocinations specious,Have strove to prove with great precision,With definition and division,_Homo est ratione præditum_--But for my soul I cannot credit ’em:And must in spite of them maintainThat man and all his ways are vain,And that this boasted child of natureIs both a weak and erring creature--That instinct is a surer guideThan reason--boasting mortals’ pride,And that brute beasts are far before ’em:_Deus est anima brutorum._Who ever knew an honest bruteAt law his neighbour prosecute;Bring action for assault and battery,Or friend beguile with lies and flattery?O’er plains they ramble unconfin’d,No politics disturb their mind;They eat their meals, and take their sport,Nor know who’s in or out at court:They never to the levee go,To treat as dearest friend, a foe;They never importune his Grace;Nor ever cringe to men in place;Nor undertake a dirty job,Nor draw the quill to write for Bob;[36]Fraught with invective they ne’er goTo folks at Paternoster Row:No jugglers, fiddlers, dancing-masters,No pickpockets, or poetasters,Are known to honest quadrupeds;No single brute his fellow leads.Brutes never meet in bloody fray,Nor cut each others’ throats for pay.Of beasts, it is confess’d, the apeComes nearest us in human shape:Like man he imitates each fashion,And malice is his ruling passion;But both in malice and grimaces,A courtier any ape surpasses.Behold him, humbly cringing, waitUpon the minister of state;View him soon after to inferiorsAping the conduct of superiors:He promises with equal air,And to perform takes equal care.He in his turn finds imitators:At court, the porters, lackeys, waiters,Their masters’ manners still contract--And footmen, lords and dukes can act.Thus at the court, both great and smallBehave alike--for all ape all. [Illustration] FOOTNOTES: [35] Smiglecius, a native of Poland, wrote a Treatise on Logic, whichGoldsmith had probably seen at the University. [36] Sir Robert Walpole. [Illustration: AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG.[37]] Good people of all, of every sort,Give ear unto my song;And if you find it wondrous short,It cannot hold you long. In Islington there lived a man,Of whom the world might say,That still a godly race he ran,Whene’er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had,To comfort friends and foes;The naked every day he clad,When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found:As many dogs there be--Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,And curs of low degree. [Illustration] This dog and man at first were friends;But, when a pique began,The dog, to gain some private ends,Went mad, and bit the man. Around from all the neighbouring streetsThe wondering neighbours ran;And swore the dog had lost his wits,To bite so good a man. The wound it seem’d both sore and sadTo every christian eye;And while they swore the dog was mad,They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light,That show’d the rogues they lied--The man recover’d of the bite;The dog it was that died. FOOTNOTES: [37] “‘My brother Dick,’ cried Bill, my youngest, ‘is just gone outwith sister Livy; but Mr. Williams has taught me two songs, and I’llsing them for you, Papa. Which song do you choose, the Dying Swan, orthe Elegy on the Mad Dog?’ ‘The Elegy, child, by all means,’ said I: ‘Inever heard that yet.’”--VICAR OF WAKEFIELD, Chap. XVII. [Illustration: THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS] SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HER LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS, THE PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES.[38]
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