What master of eloquence could indure to hear it so murdred in a pulpit?  What wise man cou’d suffer the noise?  Our business in the temple is not to inform our minds, or correct our lives; but as soon as we enter the place, one out of love to his friend, being made his heir, promises a sacrifice to the gods, if they’d please to take him out of this troublesome world; another, if they’d direct him to a treasure:  the like a third promises if they’d make him happy in a small estate of 300l. per an. or so:  The very Senate that shou’d show an exemplary conduct, in occasions of doubtful events, have devoted mighty sums of gold to religious uses:  And who wou’d not but admire, that, he is perswaded hath charms enough to make the gods themselves comply!  You need not wonder why painting is lost, when gold appears more beautiful both to gods and men, than any thing Apelles or Phidias are now esteem’d madly to have spent their time about:  But seeing your curiosity is wholly taken up with that piece, that shews you a contracted history of the Siege of Troy:  I’ll try to give you the story more at large in verse.

   “Now Troy had felt a siege of ten long years,
    Concern and sorrow in each face appears: 
    The Grecian prophet too, with terrour fill’d,
    What fate decree’d, but doubtfully reveal’d: 
    When thus Apollo——­
    From the proud top of Ida’s rising hill
    A lofty pile of mighty cedars fell,
    Whose trunks into a dreadful fabrick force,
    And, let it bear the figure of a horse: 
    The spacious hollows, of whose mountain-womb,
    The choice and flower of your troops entomb. 
    The Greeks, enrag’d to be so long repell’d,
    With their chief troops the beasts vast bowel’s fill’d,
    And thus their arms and all their hopes conceal’d. 
    Strange was the fate the rul’d unhappy Troy,
    Who thought them gone, and lasting peace t’enjoy,
    So the inscription of the machine said,
    And treacherous Synon, for their ruin made. 
    All from their arms at once, and troubles run
    To view the horse, and left th’ unguarded town
    So over-joy’d they wept:  Thus even fears
    When joy surprizes, melt away in tears. 
    Enrag’d Laocoon, with prophetick beat,
    Prest thro’ the crowd, that on his humour wait;
    And with a javelin pierc’d the fatal horse,
    But fate retards the blow, and stopt its force: 
    The spear jumpt back upon the priest, so nigh,
    It gave new credit to the treachery. 
    Yet to confirm how weak was the attempt
    ’Gainst what the gods will have, his javelin sent,
    Resum’d with double fury, thro’ his side,
    And the large concave of the machine try’d: 
    When from within the captive Grecians roar;
    And the beast trembles with another’s fear. 
    Yet to the town the present they convey,
    Thus a new stragem does Troy betray;
    While to the taken, she becomes