1024 That the <z> vibration &c.] The device of the vibration of a Pendulum was intended to settle a certain measure of ells and yards, &c. (that should have its foundation in nature) all the world over: For by swinging a weight at the end of a string, and calculating by the motion of the sun, or any star, how long the vibration would last, in proportion to the length of the string, and the weight of the pendulum, they thought to reduce it back again, and from any part of time to compute the exact length of any string that must necessarily vibrate into so much space of time; so that if a man should ask in China for a quarter of an hour of satin, or taffeta, they would know perfectly what it meant; and all mankind learn a new way to measure things, no more by the yard, foot or inch, but by the hour, quarter, and minute. 1113 <a> Before the Secular, &c.] As the Devil is the Spiritual Prince of Darkness, so is the Constable the Secular, who governs the night with as great authority as his colleague, but far more imperiously. AN HEROICAL EPISTLE OF HUDIBRAS TO SIDROPHEL ------------------------- Ecce Iterum Crispinus.--- ------------------------- WELL! SIDROPHEL, though 'tis in vain To tamper with your crazy brain, Without trepanning of your skull As often as the moon's at full 'Tis not amiss, e're y' are giv'n o'er, 5 To try one desp'rate med'cine more For where your case can be no worse, The desp'rat'st is the wisest course. Is't possible that you, whose ears Are of the tribe of Issachar's, 10 And might (with equal reason) either, For merit, or extent of leather, With WILLIAM PRYN'S, before they were Retrench'd and crucify'd, compare, Shou'd yet be deaf against a noise 15 So roaring as the publick voice That speaks your virtues free, and loud, And openly, in ev'ry crowd, As, loud as one that sings his part T' a wheel-barrow or turnip-cart, 20 Or your new nick-nam'd old invention To cry green-hastings with an engine; (As if the vehemence had stunn'd, And turn your drum-heads with the sound;) And 'cause your folly's now no news, 25 But overgrown, and out of use, Persuade yourself there's no such matter, But that 'tis vanish'd out of nature; When folly, as it grows in years, The more extravagant appears; 30 For who but you could be possest With so much ignorance, and beast, That neither all mens' scorn and hate, Nor being laugh'd and pointed at, Nor bray'd so often in a mortar, 35 Can teach you wholesome sense and nurture; But (like a reprobate) what course Soever's us'd, grow worse and worse Can no transfusion of the blood, That makes fools cattle, do you good? 40 Nor putting pigs t' a bitch to nurse, To turn 'em into mungrel-curs, Put you into a way, at least, To make yourself a better beast?