WERE there not a certain Charm in Doggrell, which never fails pleasing those whose Capacities can rise no higher; one would wonder how the Tribe of Levi, and some other Pieces of that Nature, should have lately met with so much Applause from some sort of People. I wish the Reader no better Diversion (if it does not raise his Indignation too) than I my self have had, in seeing a fat Fellow hold his Sides, and half burst himself over a Dish of Coffee; as if he had seen Merry-Andrew eating a Custard, at those Two Familiar Lines of this Author in Page the 9th.

And what if the Ass should happen to get the Lyon's Skin on? Now am I so far from thinking he would be such a dreadful roaring Creature as he makes us believe, that I fansie he'd, like his Brother Beggar, only swing upon a Gate all Day long, without doing any mortal Creature any Mischief. But whether or no this be true, 'tis certain, that you'd venture having your Head broke in more places than one near the Change, should you dare affirm any two Lines in Cowley or Dryden were equal to this incomparable Distich. But to let pass all the Ele­gant For to's and Doe's, and all the ancient Family of the So that's and Eds, and the rest of the kind Crutches to a cripled Muse, which seem the peculiar affected Flowers of the Author, 'twere to be wish'd he had brought nothing worse with him from Ireland; for▪ had he been only Ridiculous, the Humour of the Country might have excused him; but, when he's Mischievous too, his Apish Tricks and Gambols ought no more to save him from the Lash than his Brother Animal in the like Circumstances. I won't so much abuse the Reader's Patience to examine particularly into the Sence and Poetry of this famed Piece, the first half Page is enough to give any one, but a Car-man, his Belly-full. Never was poor Ballad or Song-Book in such a Condition as his would be, should we go to uncase it, and make Prose on't. Let's try for once, but by no means to make a Practice on't, what can be done with the very first four Lines.

That is to say, in plain Prose, ‘Since Plagues were ordered to plague Men, and Aegypt was plagued with Ten Plagues, there was never any Plague greater than the worst of Plagues. — And 'twould be very hard if there should, in my Judgment.’

But not content with Nonsence, he won't so much as afford us true English in the last Line of the same Page, nor true Verses almost all through his Book; his Zeal for the Matter, we may charitably suppose, making him now and then run a little too fast, and Scan Two Fingers instead of One.

But these are not the main Things in Controversie between us. Dullness is the fault of a Natural, not an acquired Habit, and therefore involuntary, he having as much Liberty to Print dull Things as I, or any Man else. And he should e'en have writ on till he had tired himself or his Admirers, had not that intolerable Insolence (the very Characteristick of his Nature, and which not improbably he derives from that parcel of French-Blood which flows in his Veins) made him fall foul on what has been ever esteemed most Sacred in this World; sparing not so much as one single Priest to propagate the Kind, but letting drive at all, without Fear, or Wit, or good Manners, and concluding, Hanging's the fittest Death for 'em without exception, one and all, not so much as leaving room to creep out at for his own Father, were he yet alive to see what a Viper he has been the occasion of bringing into the World. But I must have a care of imitating him; railing, as well as all the Plagues he reckons up, is a very in­fectious Disease: Nor is't an to Matter to read all his Book over, without being a little tinged with such bad Company. For which reason I have endeavoured to avoid it, and made choice of a way of Writing quite con­trary, though at the hazard of not pleasing as much as my Antagonist. Those who are Judges will find I have at least aim'd at Horace's easie sort of Satyr; nor is't any Disgrace to come vastly short of so great an Original. And this way I the more willingly chose, lest the other should have hurried me into an Extreme of the same Nature with the Occasion on't, and given Temptation to fall foul on any Party besides that which is an avowed Enemy to the Go­vernment, or Religion, on which 'tis founded. On the contrary, I am not ashamed to acknowledge, that I have revised the following Piece with some [Page] Care, lest any thing of that Nature should pass in the Crowd; which if there be, I declare it is against my Intention and Knowledge. There are enough to recriminate besides, who perhaps mayn't love their Country better, and may yet get more by it than I by this. None can be so dull an Observer of Things, but may easily take notice, That the Road to Preferment lies the same way now it has ever done, by espousing one Faction heartily, and railing at all the rest: But I take this at present to be just as wise a me­thod as quarrelling in a Powder-Room, and firing a Pistol there at One that has trod upon my Toes, or broke my Shins. In a word, I scorn to be Great at my Country's Cost, though I think there's no great Danger on't. What I'm concern'd for, is the Cause of common Christianity; nay of Natural Religion it self, both of which perhaps are in greater Danger than is commonly thought; such things as these tending directly to sap their very Foundation, aiming not against the Abuse, but very Use of Things, and the Destruction of the very Character of Priesthood, instead of reform­ing those who are of it. On which account I should think no Priest, of what­ever Opinion, could esteem or commend this Author's Work, unless they love to have themselves abused, and of the same Temper with the Man in the Fable, who would willingly pluck out One of his own Eyes, that his E­nemy might lose Both. I have only this more to say in respect of the GEN­TLEMAN, my Antagonist; That, though others may think my Satyr too tame and languid, I hope he won't blame me for that Error. That he will not think himself a much better Man than some of those whom he him­self has endeavoured to Expose to the World, and therefore not think strange he meets with the same Fate. That his own History being not sufficiently known, I expect he should not only pardon me, but thank me for publishing some of the most Remarkable Passages of his Life. That in the mean time he is extreamly obliged to me (considering how he has treated others) for my Civility, in not naming him; and that he may quickly know, I can be much severer, if he thinks fit to make the Experiment.

There's another famous Spark about Town, whom for the likeness of the Argument I have link'd with him in many Places of this Satyr, and who will without question m [...]ke the best Company in the World. 'Tis a certain kind of a Second Rate Ballad-singer, alias Moralist, alias Mouse-trap-maker, alias Weesil-monger, who having lately contracted a particular Acquain­tance with the King's Most Excellent Rat-Catcher, and managing besides a small Intrigue with a Corn-Chandler's Wife's Cousin-German, has very luckily improv'd the hints he met with from both those places, and turned all the Priests he comes near into the most dreadful Four legg'd Beasts that [Page] ever were shown for Monsters. He's very angry with a certain Reverend Doctor, because he cann't understand him. — Poor wretch, if it has no Notion of Sence, what can help it besides Bedlam? However, if he be such a dreadful Satyrist as he makes us believe in the Postscript to his Moralist, he'll find somewhat here to exercise his Talent, and perhaps let the Doctor take breath, while he's employed about other Business. I'll neither trouble the Readers nor Authors any more, but, till we next meet again, bid 'em farewel altogether.