s, that He walks
on their Wings; that so our Idea might be heighten'd to the
utmost, by reflecting on this calm, and easy Motion of the Deity,
upon a Violence, so rapid, so furious, and ungovernable, to our
human Conception. Yet as nothing can be more sublime, so nothing
can be more simple, and plain, than this noble Imagination. But
Mr. Trapp, not contented to express, attempts unhappily to adorn
this inimitable Beauty, in the following Manner.

"Who, borne in Triumph o'er the Heavenly Plains,
Rides on the Clouds, and holds a Storm in Reins,
Flies on the Wings of the sonorous Wind, &c."

Here his imperfect, and diminishing Metaphor, of the 'Rains,' has
quite ruin'd the Image; What rational, much less noble Idea, can
any Man conceive of a Wind in a Bridle? The unlucky Word 'Plains'
too, is a downright Contradiction to the Meaning of the Passage.
What wider Difference in Nature, than between driving a Chariot
over a Plain, and moving enthron'd, amidst That rolling, and
terrible Perplexity of Motions, which we figure to our
Imagination, from a 'Chariot of Clouds'? But the mistaken
Embellishment of the Word 'flies,' in the last Verse, is an Error
almost unpardonable; Instead of improving the Conception, it has
made it trifling, and contemptible, and utterly destroy'd the
very Soul of its Energy! 'flies' on the Wind! What an Image is
That, to express the Majesty of God? To 'walk' on the Wind is
astonishing, and horrible; But to 'fly' on the Wind, is the
Employment of a Bat, of an Owl, of a Feather! Mr. Trapp is, I
believe, a Gentleman of so much Candour, and so true a Friend to
the Interest of the Art he professes, that there will be no
Occasion to ask his pardon, for dragging a Criminal Metaphor, or
two, out of the Immunity of his Protection.

Mr. Philips has lately been told in Print, by one of our best
Criticks, that he has excell'd all the Ancients, in his Pastoral
Writings; He will, therefore, be apt to wonder, that I take the
Liberty to say, in downright Respect to Truth, and the Justice
due to Poetry, that I have not only seen modern pastorals, much
better than His, but that his appear, to me, neither natural,
nor equal. One might extend this Remark to the very Names of his
Shepherds; Lobbin, Hobbinol, and Cuddy are nothing of a Piece,
with Lanquet, Mico, and Argol; nor do his Personages agree
better with themselves, than their Names with one another. Mico,
for Example, at the first Sight we