Pope has feveral fimiles of the same stamp. I fhall transcribe one or two from the Efay on Man, the gravest and most instructive of all his performances:

And hence one mafter paffion in the breast,
Like Aaron's ferpent, fwallows up the rest.

Epift. 2. 1. 131.

And again, talking of this fame ruling or master paffion :

Nature its mother, Habit is its nurfe;
Wit, fpirit, faculties, but make it worse;
Reason itself but gives it edge and pow'r;

As heav'n's blefs'd beam turns vinegar more sowr,

Where their fincerity as to fact is doubtful, we strike out truth by the confrontation of different accounts; as we ftrike out fparks of fire by the collifion of flints and fteel.

Let us vary the phrase a very little, and there will not remain a fhadow of resemblance. Thus,

We discover truth by the confrontation of different accounts; as we strike out sparks of fire by the callifion of flints and fteel.

Racine makes Pyrrhus fay to Andromaque,

Vaincu,

Vaincu, chargé de fers, de regrets confumé,
Brulé de plus de feux que je n'en allumai,
Helas! fus-je jamais fi cruel que vous l'etés?

And Oreftes in the fame ftrain:

Que les Scythes font moins cruels qu' Hermione.

Similes of this kind put one in mind of a ludicrous French fong:

Where the fubject is burlesque or ludicrous, fuch fimiles are far from being improper. Horace fays pleasantly,

Quanquam tu levior cortice.

L. 3. ode 9.

And

And Shakespear,

In breaking oaths he's ftronger than Hercules.

And this leads me to obferve, that befide the foregoing comparisons, which are all ferious, there is a fpecies, the end and purpose of which is to excite gaiety or mirth. Take the following examples.

Falstaff, fpeaking to his page :

I do here walk before thee, like a fow that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one,

Second Part Henry ÏV. a&t 1. Sc. 4.

I think he is not a pick-purse, nor a horse-stealer; but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm-eaten nut.

Was not by half fo tender hooft,

Nor trod upon the ground fo foft.
And as that beast would kneel and stoop,
(Some write, to take his rider up ;)
So Hudibras his ('tis well known)
Would often do to fet him down.

Canto 1.

Honour is, like a widow, won
With brifk attempt and putting on,
With entering manfully, and urging;
Not flow approaches, like a virgin.

The fun had long fince in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap;
And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn
From black to red began to turn.

Canto i.

Part 2. canto 2.

Books, like men, their authors, have but one way of coming into the world; but there are ten thousand to go out of it, and return no more.

Tale of a Tub.

And in this the world may perceive the difference between the integrity of a generous author, and that of a common friend. The latter is obferved to adhere clofe in profperity, but on the decline of fortune, to drop fud. denly off: whereas the generous author, just on the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and then immediately withdraws, expecting not fo much as thanks for his pains. Tale of a Tub.

The

The most accomplish'd way of using books at present is, to ferve them as fome do lords, learn their titles, and then brag of their acquaintance.

Box'd in a chair, the beau impatient fits,

Tale of a Tub.

While spouts run clatt'ring o'er the roof by fits;
And ever and anon with frightful din

The leather founds; he trembles from within.
So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden fteed,
Pregnant with Greeks, impatient to be freed,
(Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,
Instead of paying chairmen, run them through),
Laocoon ftruck the outfide with his fpear,
And each imprison'd hero quak'd for fear.

Defcription of a city-shower. Swift.

Clubs, diamonds, hearts, in wild disorder feen,
With throngs promifcuous ftrow the level green.
Thus when difpers'd a routed army runs,
Of Afia's troops, and Afric's fable fons,
With like confufion, different nations fly,
Of various habit, and of various dye,
The pierc'd battalions difunited, fall

In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all.

Rape of the Lock, canto 3.

He does not confider, that fincerity in love is as much out of fashion as sweet snuff; no body takes it now.

Careless hufband.

Lady Eafy. My dear, I am afraid you have provoked her a little too far.

Sir Charles. O! Not at all. You fhall fee, I'll sweeten her, and she'll cool like a difh of tea.

Ibid.

CHAP.