debted. What encomiums does he not lay out upon Roscommon and Walsh, in the close of his excellent Essay upon Criticism? How gratefully does he express his thanks to Dr. Swift, sir Samuel Garth, Mr. Congreve, and my poor friend and neighbour doctor Parnell, in the preface to his admirable translation of the Iliad, in return for the many lights and lessons they administered to him both in the opening, and the prosecution of that great undertaking? Is it possible that these heroes of wit and learning, whom he commemorates with so much applause, and of whom he glories in having been the pupil, could have been of the birth of Ireland? while England could only furnish him with titled pageants and names of quality, fitter to swell and encourage the subscription, than to polish or enrich the performance? But, granting they were Irishmen; that it seems is no manner of argument in favour of their country. Were not all those lights and lessons given by them to Mr. Pope, in the purer air of England? Was it not to that air alone they owed the refinement and elevation of their geniuses? Mr. Pope, though the best natured man living, to my knowledge, had laughed at them, with great gayety, had they pretended to forward any notices or instructions to him by letters written under their native fogs.
I remember to have been present at a scene humorous enough upon this very subject at Will's coffeehouse. The sages there, in profound contemplation, were very gravely offering their several reasons, why wit could not be of the growth of Ireland. Some would have it owing to the bogginess of the soil, which must undoubtedly and
