The Virginia Gazette

To Mr. Parks.

Sir,

Acknowledge my Error in dwelling so long upon Generals, upon the Monitor; and own, that what has been yet laid, may look like bare Allegations, without any Proofs to support them. I shall therefore now descend to Particulars, and hope to show, from his own Writings, that I have had great Reason to be shock'd at them; and that he is the very individual Scribbler, which I have described him to be, always trifling, and frequently plunging into the greatest Depths of Nonsense and Absurdity. I am, Sir,

Your humble Servant,

ZOILUS.

REMARKS on the Monitor's last SONG

A new Song.]

This is a very proper Title; because our Author sometimes publishes old Songs, as has been elsewhere observed.

How hard is my Fate! to be thus over-match'd;
O good Sir, forbear! let me not be dispatch'd;
Have Pity on me,

This is only a Flourish, like that of a Gladiator; who, at first mounting the Stage, gives the Spectators a Specimen of the Nimbleness of his Wrist, not at all deigning by it to hurt his Adversary.

or at least on yourself;

Your Writing, as yet, has but prov'd you an Elf.

As an Elf, i.e. a Fairy or a Dwarf. Now, what Sort of Poets they are, I cannot positively assert, having only seen one Composition from each Species, viz. An old, well-known Fairy Song, and the Ode to Quinbus Flestrin, by Titty Tit, Esq; from which I Should have judged, that the Monitor design'd me a Compliment, if it was not inconsistent with what follows. Leaving this, therefore, as a doubtful Point, I shall pass to the next.

Tho' your Numbers are sweet, your Muse she smells rank,
And by fatal Mistake, he has play'd you a Prank:
At once take Advice, and pray try her no more,
She only design'd it, to play you the Whore.

This is the first Time, I believe, that a Muse was ever accused of smelling rank; or, O fy! which is worse, of playing the Whore. Bad Poetry I'd rather be attributed to the Writer himself, uninspired, or some other immediate Cause: An Example of which, we have in BUTLER, who, speaking to the Muse, says,

Thou that with Ale, or viler Liquors
Dost inspire Wits, Knaves and Vickars.

But this can only be attributed to our Author's not being well acquainted with the ancient Poets, who always treat the Muses in a more decent Manner. Again,

your Muse she smells rank,

I might as well say, the Monitor he writes Nonsense.

This Expression alone, notwithstanding the Wit of his Pox on it, wou'd be sufficient to bring the Grub home to his own Door.

These, our fruitful Lines, I find, are like to give me more Trouble; for he says, that my Muse play'd me a Prank by Mistake, and design'd it too; which is plainly inconsistent with Common Sense. Besides, She design'd it, i.e. his Prank, to play, or in order to play me the Whore: Now, whether there be any Difference between playing the Prank, and playing the Whore, I must confess something too deep for my Determination. I cannot but observe, that the GAZETTE was finely adorn'd in front, with Colley's fair-ey'd Virgin, and Behind, with the Monitor's stinking Muse.

your Muse she smells rank,

This, in the most ancient and perhaps the most authentic Copy, was your Musick smells rank. If this be the true Reading, I must retract some of my Notes above written, and only observe, that the senses are here so confounded, as to prove, that the Author had none at all; and is a Confirmation of the 5th Argument in my last.

your Musick Smells rank,

This was said in GAZETTE, No. 29, to have been wrong printed for your Muse she smells rank.

Query,

Whether it be not wrong printed both Ways?

Take this for a Truth, you must pick well your Ears,
Nay Syringe them too, e'er your Song reach the Spheres;

Here is a new Method of Improving the Voice, viz. by Picking and Syringing the Ears: which, it seems, I must do, e'er my Song reach the Spheres. But why so high a Flight, good Mr. Monitor? Better Poets have been contented with the Top of Parnassus. In Composing these Two Lines, the Musick of the Spheres struck the Author's Imagination, which brought Ears to Rhyme; then the Lines must be filled up, which was done by Picking and Syringing; and lastly, finding that it wou'd not yet do, he was forc'd to turn from the Musick of the Spheres to mine; for, it is impossible that any mortal Poet could have fallen at once on so surprising a Thought, as that of a Song reaching the Spheres.

The Tune you will leave to some other, if wise,
Or Midas's Lugs will be thought your just Prize

Passing by the Archness of putting Lugs for Ears; pray, why should Zoilus deserve Midas's? If the Fa- ble be kept up to, (which it must be, if meddled with at all) neither Zoilus, nor the Monitor, can deserve Midas's Ears, tho' a Third Person may.

The Sublime! I well know, you fain would say,
This is a gross Mistake in our Author; For, if I had aimed at the Sublime, I should have chosen a very different Subject. It only Shows him to be entirely ignorant of the different Stiles in Writing, by applying the Sublime to Satire or Ridicule.

But Grub, a Pox on 't, 'till comes in the Way;
Bombast stands for Wit, and low Thoughts for a Jest,
Like an unseason'd Dish, ---- without any Zest.

And now I am come to the last and main Point, where he so unmercifully lays about him. He accuses me of Bombast, and the Lord knows what; whether justly or not, must be left to the Determination of others.

My only Design was, to rid the Press of so empty and insolent a Scribbler; which End being obtained, I shall leave Room for an abler Pen.

Not to give the Reader a second Trouble in this Way, I shall now bestow a few REMARKS on the Dream, and Interpretation, in the GAZETTE, No. 30.

[Heard questions, pro and con.] This is a bold Plunge into the Profound. Arguments may be said with Propriety to be pro and con; but Questions, which neither affirm or deny anything, cannot be so.

I cannot say the Figure of him struck me with Terror; and yet soon after, he says, This put me into a greater Consternation than ever.] This is a small Figure in Rhetorick, called the Inconsistent or Contradictory. Our Author deals much in it, as might be proved from innumerable Passages in his Works; but I shall at present content my self with one more Instance out of the same Dream.

He took out a Paper, and Humm'd something to him- self; this put me into a greater Consternation than ever, not being able to make out either Sound, &c.] I dare say, the judicious Reader will acknowledge this Humm to have been of a most extraordinary and singular Na- ture, since it had no Sound in it.

Her Mien was tatter'd.] The Mien, is the Air of the Person, but principally of the Countenance. I might therefore, with as much Propriety say, That the Monitor has a hard-featur'd Coat, or pock-fretted Waistcoat.

Then from its Chaos, the World we'll draw once more,
Leave, -- Leave it to me, and Dulness I'll restore.

Here's luscious Poetry, you'd swear 'twas he.
D. of Buckingham.

I have seen many Instances of our Author's Ignorance; but in these Lines, he has fairly proved, that he cannot tell Ten: For, whoever will be at the Pains to count the Syllables, will find, that there are Eleven in each Verse; which disjoints the Feet and Measure in such a Manner, as must offend every good Ear for Poetry.

Then from its Chaos, the World we'll draw once more,

If Bombast consists in the great Sound of Expression, with little or no Meaning, this is a very good Example of it; and surely no one, but a Person of our Author's that Genius for the Absurd, cou'd ever have made it an Act of Dulness to bring the World from its Chaos.

To convince the World I am no Phantom, no Impostor, no Empirick,] Avoid Undertaking! But how does he do it? Why truly by Interpreting a Dream. And is not this downright Quibbling? Does not all the World know, that Partridge, the High German Doctor, &c. have been eminent as Impostors, Empiricks, and Interpreters of Dreams. These are in Truth Sister-Arts, and commonly accompany each other.

The Said Muses made their Complaint to their High and Mightinesses.] Here our Author has joined a Sub- stantive and Adjective by a Conjunction; for which I can find no Rule in Lilly. But

As for your Nouns,
Grammar, and Rules of Art, he knows them not.-
D. of Buckingham

The Stile of the States-General (which I suppose he wou'd here mimic) is High-Mightinesses, or High and Mighty Lords.

There are many other Particulars, which I might insist on; but decline it for the present. I shall therefore con- clude this long Paper, by Appealing to the Reader, whether I can with any Justice be called a carping Crea- ture, or whether I may not rather say, with Horace,

Non ego paucis
Offendor maculis.