_Bays._ "You could not have guessed better, Mr Crites, if you had dived into my diaphragma for the secret. It was not in my power, you must know, either to suppress the work, or to discommend it; because, to give the gentleman his due, it was performed beyond all expectation, and, what was a mighty matter, it suited as pat as might be with the philosophy of the town that was then in fashion. Now, to undermine and ruin him to all intents and purposes, I took these measures. I flatter, hug, and caress him, like an Achitophel as I was; after the strangest manner imaginable, profess all the respect and friendship in the world for him; tell him that providence had certainly reserved him for working miracles in poetry; and that I had some ancient prophecies by me at home, which declared him to be the very person that was to deliver the immortal writers of former ages out of that Algerine captivity they had so long laboured under-- _Crites._ "Well, for daubing and wheedling, I'll let thee loose to any poet in Christendom." _Bays._ "That, if by his mighty feat he could form those Irish atoms of Lucretius into so regular, and well-disciplined an army, could raise such harmony out of a dull unmusical philosopher, how glorious and exalted would his attempts be upon Horace, or what might we not expect from so advantageous, so promising an undertaking. And so, gentlemen, with the help of a little incense and flattery, I so cajoled this Æsop's crow, that he presently dropt his Epicurean cheese out of his mouth, to sing one of his unmusical ill-turned Odes of Horace. I persuaded this Welch courser to leave his ragged unaccessible precipices, where there was no coming after him, to try his strength and feet upon good plain ground, where an English vinegar horse, I knew, would easily distance him." _The Reasons of Mr Bayes changing his Religion considered in a Dialogue._