or
Night. I do not agree with what Mr. _Wycherley_ is supposed to have writ
of him, but I do with what he certainly said of him, _viz._ _That he was
not able to make a Suit of Cloaths, but could perhaps turn an old Coat._

(e) _Which Doctor _Y------__

The Reverend Doctor _Edward Young_, who, in this Quarrel of the great
contending Powers in Poesy, has been courted by all Sides: But some late
Incidents give a Suspicion, that he has privately acceded to the _Treaty
of Twickenham_.

(f) _Poor _G----_, who loses most----_

Mr. _Gay_, not thought to be the entire Author of the _Beggar's Opera_,
and ordered to own _Three Hours after Marriage_.

(g) _By _Rich_ recorded------_

_Gilbert Pickering Rich._ A great Admirer of _P--pe_, eminent for his
Translation of _Horace_, which can be equall'd by nothing but _P--pe_'s
translating of _Homer_. He concludes the first Ode by giving (_sublimi
feriam sidera vertice_) in these Words;

I'll bound, I'll spring, I'll strike the weaken'd Pole,
I'll knock so hard, I'll knock thro' it a Hole.

(h) _------Breaks all _Sinai_'s Laws except the Second._

Second Commandment: "Thou shalt not make the Likeness of any Thing in
Heaven above, or on the Earth beneath, or the Waters under the Earth."

(i) _Forget awhile _Belinda_ and the Sun._

In the _Rape of the Lock_, _Belinda_ and the Sun are very often said to
be very much alike, which occasion'd two Lines in Praise of that Poem,
written by a Friend of Mr. _Pope_;

Here, like the Sun, _Belinda_ strikes the Swain,
In the same Page like the same Sun again.

Monsieur _Boileau_, speaking of the Poetasters of his Nation, in a Poem
to the King, makes this Comparison the Consummation of Dulness;

_Et enfin te compare au Soloeil._

And in the End he compares your Majesty to the Sun.

(k) _------Half-paid drudging _B----me_._

The Reverend Mr. _B----me_, who translated a great Part of _Homer_, and
construed the Rest: _N.B. A half-paid Poet_ is oftentimes the Occasion
of an _unpaid Taylor_.

(l) _Sleep, Sleep in Peace------_

These Lines are a Parody of a famous Passage in the Tragedy of _Phaedra_
and _Hyppolitus_.

Sleep, Sleep in Peace, ye Monsters of the Wood:
No more my early Horn shall wake------

_So when bright _Venus_ yielded up her Charms,
The blest _Adonis_ languish'd in her Arms;
His idle Horn on flagrant Myrtle hung,
His Arrows scatter'd, and his Bow unstrung;
Obscure in Co