Wise Aristotle and Smiglecius. Cf. _The Life of Parnell_, 1770, p. 3:—‘His imagination might have been too warm to relish the cold logic of Burgersdicius, or the dreary subtleties of _ Smiglesius_; but it is certain that as a classical scholar, few could equal him.’ Martin Smiglesius or Smigletius, a Polish Jesuit, theologian and logician, who died in 1618, appears to have been a special _bête noire_ to Goldsmith; and the reference to him here would support the ascription of the poem to Goldsmith’s pen, were it not that Swift seems also to have cherished a like antipathy:—‘He told me that he had made many efforts, upon his entering the College [i.e. Trinity College, Dublin], to read some of the old treatises on logic writ by _Smeglesius_, Keckermannus, Burgersdicius, etc., and that he never had patience to go through three pages of any of them, he was so disgusted at the stupidity of the work.’ (Sheridan’s _Life of Swift_, 2nd ed., 1787, p. 4.) Than reason-boasting mortal’s pride. So in _The Busy Body_. Some editors—Mitford, for example—print the line:— Than reason,—boasting mortals’ pride. _Deus est anima brutorum_. Cf. Addison in _Spectator_, No. 121 (July 19, 1711): ‘A modern Philosopher, quoted by Monsieur _ Bale_ in his Learned Dissertation on the Souls of Brutes delivers the same Opinion [i.e.—That Instinct is the immediate direction of Providence], tho’ in a bolder form of words where he says _Deus est Anima Brutorum_, God himself is the Soul of Brutes.’ There is much in ‘Monsieur Bayle’ on this theme. Probably Addison had in mind the following passage of the _Dict. Hist. et Critique_ (3rd ed., 1720, 2481_b_.) which Bayle cites from M. Bernard:—‘Il me semble d’avoir lu quelque part cette Thèse, _Deus est anima brutorum_: l’expression est un peu dure; mais elle peut recevoir un fort bon sens.’ B—b=Bob, i.e. Sir Robert Walpole, the Prime Minister, for whom many venal ‘quills were drawn’ _circa_ 1715–42. Cf. Pope’s _Epilogue to the Satires_, 1738, Dialogue i, ll. 27–32:— Go see Sir ROBERT— P. See Sir ROBERT!—hum— And never laugh—for all my life to come? Seen him I have, but in his happier hour Of Social Pleasure, ill-exchang’d for Pow’r; Seen him, uncumber’d with the Venal tribe, Smile without Art, and win without a Bribe. A courtier any ape surpasses. Cf. Gay’s _Fables, passim_. Indeed there is more of Gay than Swift in this and the lines that follow. Gay’s life was wasted in fruitless expectations of court patronage, and his disappointment often betrays itself in his writings.