thought, that the happy genius of our age and country, was prophetically held forth by that ancient typical description of the Indian pygmies[1]; whose stature did not exceed above two foot; sed quorum pudenda crassa, et ad talos usque pertingentia. Now, I have been very curious to inspect the late productions, wherein the beauty of this kind have most prominently appeared; and although this vein has bled so freely, and all endeavours have been used in the power of human breath to dilate, extend, and keep it open; like the Scythians[2], who had a custom, and an instrument, to blow up the privities of their mares, that they might yield the more milk: yet I am under an apprehension, it is near growing dry, and past all recovery; and that either some new fonde of wit should, if possible, be provided, or else, that we must even be content with repetition here, as well as upon all other occasions.
This will stand as an incontestable argument, that our modern wits are not to reckon upon the infinity of matter, for a constant supply. What remains therefore, but that our last recourse must be had to large indexes, and little compendiums? quotations must be plentifully gathered, and booked in alphabet; to this end, though authors need be little consulted, yet criticks, and comimentators, and lexicons carefully must. But above all, those judicious collectors of bright parts, and flowers, and observandas, are to be nicely dwelt on, by some called the sieves and boulters of learning; though it is left undetermined, whether they dealt in pearls or meal; and consequently, whether we are more to value that which passed through, or what staid behind.
