Beneath a rude and nameless stone he lies, ON MRS. CORBET, WHO DIED OF A CANCER IN HER BREAST. HERE rests a woman, good without pretence, Blest with plain reason, and with sober sense: No conquests she, but o'er herself, desir'd, No arts essay'd, but not to be admir'd. Passion and pride were to her soul unknown, Convine'd that virtue only is our own. So unaffected, so compos'd a mind; So firm, yet soft; so strong, yet so refin'd; Heaven, as its purest gold, by tortures try'd; The saint sustain'd it, but the woman dy'd. ON THE MONUMENT OF THE HONOURABLE ROBERT DIGBY, AND OF HIS SISTER MARY, Go! fair example of untainted youth, And thou, blest maid! attendant on his doom, Yet take these tears, mortality's relief, ON SÍR GODFREY KNELLER, IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 1723. KNELLER, by Heaven, and not a master taught, Whose art was Nature, and whose pictures thought; Now for two ages having snatch'd from Fate Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great, VARIATION. Oh, next him, skill'd to draw the tender tear, For never Briton more disdain'd a slave. Peace to thy gentle shade, and endless rest; To these so mourn'd in death, so lov'd in life; Lies crown'd with princes' honours, poets' lays, Due to his merit, and brave thirst of praise. Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie Her works; and, dying, fears herself may die. ON GENERAL HENRY WITHERS, HERE, Withers, rest! thou bravest, gentlest mind, For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear, ON MR. GAY, IN WESTMINSTER abbey, 1732. Or manners gentle, of affections mild; ANOTHER. WELL then, poor Gay lies under ground, So there's an end of honest Jack: So little justice here he found, "Tis ten to one he 'll ne'er come back. INTENDED FOR SIR ISAAC NEWTON, ISAACUS NEWTONUS: Testantur Tempus, Natura, Colum Hoc marmor fatetur. Nature and Nature's laws lay hid in night: ON EDMOND DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, WHO DIED IN THE NINETEENTH YEAR OF HIS AGE, 1735. Ir modest youth, with cool reflection crown'd, And every opening virtue blooming round, Could save a parent's justest pride from fate, Or add one patriot to a sinking state; This weeping marble had not ask'd thy tear, Or sadly told how many hopes lie here! The living virtue now had shone approv'd, The senate beard him, and his country lov'd. Yet softer honours, and less noisy fame Attend the shade of gentle Buckingham: In whom a race, for courage fam'd and art, Ends in the milder merit of the heart; And, chiefs or sages long to Britain given, Pays the last tribute of a saint to Heaven. FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. HEROES and kings! your distance keep, In peace let one poor poet sleep, Let Horace blush, and Virgil too. ANOTHER, ON THE SAME. UNDER this marble, or under this sill, Or under this turf, or e'en what they will; Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead, Or any good creature shall lay o'er my head, Lies one who ne'er car'd, and still cares not a pin, What they said, or may say, of the mortal within: But who, living and dying, serene still and free, Trusts in God, that as well as he was, he shall be. LORD CONINGSBY'S EPITAPH'. HERE lies lord Coningsby-be civil; The rest God knows-so does the Devil. 1 This epitaph, originally written on Picus Mirandula, is applied to F. Chartres, and printed among the works of Swift. See Hawkesworth's edition, vol. vi. S. ON BUTLER'S MONUMENT. PERHAPS BY MR. Pope'. RESPECT to Dryden, Sheffield justly paid, And noble Villers honour'd Cowley's shade: But whence this Barber?-that a name so mean Should, join'd with Butler's, on a tomb be seen: This pyramid would better far proclaim, To future ages humbler Settle's name : Poet and patron then had been well pair'd, The city printer, and the city bard, THE DUNCIAD: IN FOUR BOOKS. WITH THE PROLEGOMENA OF SCRIBLERUS, THE HYPERCRITICS OF ARISTARCHUS, AND NOTES VARIORUM. A LETTER TO THE PUBLISHER, OCCASIONED BY THE FIRST CORRECT EDITION OF THE DUNCIAD. Ir is with pleasure I hear, that you have procured a correct copy of the Dunciad, which the many surreptitious ones have rendered so necessary; and it is yet with more, that I am informed it will be attended with a commentary: a work so requisite, that I cannot think the author himself would have omitted it, had he approved of the first appearance of this poem. Such notes as have occurred to me I herewith send you you will oblige me by inserting them amongst those which are, or will be, transmitted to you by others; since not only the author's friends, but even strangers, appear engaged by humanity, to take some care of an orphan of so much genius and spirit, which its parent seems to have abandoned from the very beginning, and suffered to step into the world naked, unguarded, and unattended. It was upon reading some of the abusive papers lately published, that my great regard to a person, whose friendship I esteem as one of the chief ho nours of my life, and a much greater respect to truth, than to him or any man living, engaged me in inquiries, of which the inclosed notes are the fruit. Mr. Pope, in one of the prints from Scheemaker's monument of Shakspeare in Westminster Abbey, has sufficiently shown his contempt of alderman Barber, by the following couplet, which is substituted in the place of "The cloud-capp'd towers, &c." Thus Britain lov'd me; and preserv'd my fame, Pope might probably have suppressed his satire on the alderman, because he was one of Swift's acquaintances and correspondents; though in the fourth book of the Dunciad he has an anonymous stroke at him: So by each bard an alderman shall sit, S I perceived, that most of these authors had been (doubtless very wisely) the first aggressors. They had tried, till they were weary, what was to be got by railing at each other: nobody was either concerned or surprised, if this or that scribbler was proved a dunce. But every one was curious to read what could be said to prove Mr. Pope one, and was ready to pay something for such a discovery: a stratagem which would they fairly own, it might not only reconcile them to me, but screen them from the resentment of their lawful superiors, whom they daily abuse, only (as I charitably hope) to get that by them, which they cannot get from them. I found this was not all: ill success in that had transported them to personal abuse, either of himself, or what I think he could less forgive) of his friends. They had called men of virtue and honour bad men, long before he had either leisure or inclination to call them bad writers: and some had been such old offenders, that he had quite forgotten their persons as well as their slanders, till they were pleased to revive them. A Now what had Mr. Pope done before, to incense them? He had published those works which are in the hands of every body, in which not the least mention is made of any of them. And what has he done since? He has laughed, and written the Dunciad. What has that said of them? very serious truth, which the public had said before, that they were dull: and what it had no sooner said, but they themselves were at great pains to procure, or even purchase, room in the prints, to testify under their hands to the truth of it. I should still have been silent, if either I had seen any inclination in my friend to be serious with such accusers, or if they had only meddled with his writings; since whoever publishes, puts himself on his trial by his country. But when his moral character was attacked, and in a manner from which neither truth nor virtue can secure the most innocent; in a manner, which, though it annihi- | lates the credit of the accusation with the just and impartial, yet aggravates very much the guilt of the accusers; I mean by authors without names; then I thought, since the danger was common to all, the concern ought to be so; and that it was an act of justice to detect the authors, not only on this account, but as many of them are the same who for several years past have made free with the greatest names in church and state, exposed to the world the private misfortunes of families, abused all, even to women, and whose prostituted papers (for one or other party, in the unhappy divisions of their country) have insulted the fallen, the friendless, the exiled, and the dead. I am no author, and consequently not to be suspected either of jealousy or resentment against any of the men, of whom scarce one is known to me by sight; and as for their writings, I have sought them (on this one occasion) in vain, in the closets and libraries of all my acquaintance. I had still been in the dark, if a gentleman had not procured me (I suppose from some of themselves, for they are generally much more dangerous friends than enemies) the passages I send you. I solemnly protest I have added nothing to the malice or absurdity of them; which it behoves me to declare, since the vouchers themselves will be so soon and so irrecoverably lost. You may in some measure prevent it, by preserving at least their titles', and discovering (as far as you can depend on the truth of your information) the names of the concealed authors. The first objection I have heard made to the poem is, that the persons are too obscure for satire. The persons themselves, rather than allow the objection, would forgive the satire; and if one could be tempted to afford it a serious answer, were not all assassinates, popular insurrections, the insolence of the rabble without doors, and of domestics within, most wrongfully chastised, if the meanness of offenders indemnified them from punishment? On the contrary, obscurity renders them more dangerous, as less thought of: law can pronounce judgment only on open facts: morality alone can pass censure on intentions of mischief; so that for secret calumny, or the arrow flying in the dark, there is no public punishment left, but what a good writer inflicts. The next objection is, that th se sort of authors are poor. That might be pleaded as an excuse at the Old Bailey, for lesser crimes than defamation (for it is the case of almost all who are tried there) but sure it can be none here: for who will pretend that the robbing another of his reputation supplies the want of it in himself? I question not but such authors are poor, and heartily wish the objection were removed by any honest liveli hood. But poverty is here the accident, not the subject: he who describes malice and villainy to be pale and meagre, expresses not the least anger against paleness or leanness, but against malice and villainy. The Apothecary in Romeo and Juliet is poor; but is he therefore justified in vending poison? Not but poverty itself becomes a just subject of satire, when it is the consequence of vice, prodigality, or neglect of on 's lawful calling; for then it increases the public burthen, fills the streets and highways with robbers, and the garrets with clippers, coiners, and weekly journalists. But omitting that two or three of these offend less in their morals than in their writings; must poverty make nonsense sacred? If so, the fame of bad authors would be much better consulted than that of all the good ones in the world; and not one of an hundred had ever been called by his right name. Besides this, which I take to be a public concern, I have already confessed I had a private one. I am one of that number who have long loved and esteemed Mr. Pope; and had often declared it was not his capacity or writings (which we ever thought the least valuable part of his cha- They mistake the whole matter: it is not character) but the honest, open, and beneficent man, rity to encourage them in the way they follow, that we most esteemned, and loved in him. Now but to get them out of it; for men are not bunif what these people say were believed, I must ap-glers because they are poor, but they are poor bepear to all my friends either a fool, or a knave; either imposed on myself, or imposing on them, so that I am as much interested in the confutation of these calumnies, as he is himself. cause they are bunglers. Which we have done in a list printed in the Appendix. Is it not pleasant enough, to hear our authors erving out on the one hand, as if their persons and characters were too sacred for satire; and the public objecting on the other, that they are too mean even for ridicule? But whether bread or fame be their end, it must be allowed, our author, by and in this poem, has mercifully given them a little of both. There are two or three, who by their rank and fortune have no benefit from the former objections, supposing them good; and these I was sorry to see in such company. But if, without any provocation, two or three gentlemen will fall upon one, in an affair wherein his interest and reputation are equally embarked; they cannot certainly, after they have been content to print themselves his enemies, complain of being put into the number of them. Others, I am told, pretend to have been once his friends. Surely they are their enemies who say so; since nothing can be more odious than to treat a friend as they have done. But of this I cannot persuade myself, when I consider the constant and eternal aversion of all bad writers to a good one. Such as claim a merit from being his admirers, I would gladly ask, if it lays him under a personal obligation? At that rate he would be the most obliged humble servant in the world. I dare swear for these in particular, he never desired them to be his admirers, nor promised in return to be theirs : that had truly been a sign he was of their acquaintance; but would not the malicious world have suspected such an approbation of some motive worse than ignorance, in the author of the Essay on Criticism? Be it as it will, the reasons of their admiration and of his contempt are equally subsisting, for his works and theirs are the very same that they were. One, therefore, of their assertions I believe may be true," That he has a contempt for their writings." And there is another which would probably be sooner allowed by himself than by any good judge beside, "That bis own have found too much success with the public." But as it cannot consist with his modesty to claim this as a justice, it lies not on him, but entirely on the public, to defend its own judgment. and most judicious critic of his age and country, admirable for his talents, and yet perhaps more admirable for his judgment in the proper application of them; I cannot help remarking the resemblance betwixt him and our author, in qualities, fame, and fortune; in the distinctions shown them by their superiors, in the general esteem of their equals, and in their extended reputation amongst foreigners; in the latter of which ours has met with a better fate, as he has had for his translators persons of the most eminent rank and abilities in their respective nations'. But the resemblance holds in nothing more than in their being equally abused by the ignorant pretenders to poetry of their times; of which not the least memory will remain but in their own writings, and in the notes made upon them. What Boileau has done in almost all his poems, our author has only in this: I dare answer for him he will do it in no more; and on this principle, of attacking few but who had slandered him, he could not have done it at all, had he been confined from censuring obscure and worthless persons, for scarce any other were his enemies. However, as the parity is so remarkable, I hope it will continue to the last; and if ever he should give us an edition of this poem himself, I tnay see some of them treated as gently, on their repentance or better merit, as Perrault and Quinault were at last by Boileau. In one point I must be allowed to think the cha racter of our English poet the more amiable. He has not been a follower of fortune or success; he has lived with the great without flattery; been a friend to men in power, without pensions, from whom, as he asked, so he received no favour, but what was done him in his friends. As his satires were the more just for being delayed, so were his panegyrics; bestowed only on such persons as he had familiarly known, only for such virtues as he had long observed in them, and only at such times as others cease to praise, if not begin to calumniate them, I mean when out of power or out of fashion2. A satire, therefore, on writers so notorious for the contrary practice, became no man so well as himself; as none, it is plain, was so little in their friendships, or so much in that of those whom with notes. Rape of the Lock, in French, by the princess of Conti, Paris, 1728; and in Italian verse, by the abbé Conti, a noble Venetian; and the marquis Rangoni, envoy extraordinary from Others of his works Modena to king George II. by Salvini of Florence, &c. His Essays and Dissertations on Homer, several times translated into French. Essay on Man, by the abbé Reynel, in verse; by Monsieur Silhout, in prose, 1737, and since, by others in French, Italian, and Latin. 1 Essay on Criticism in French verse, by GeThere remains what in my opinion might seem neral Hamilton; the same, in verse also, by Mona better plea for these people, than any they have sicur Roboton, counsellor and privy secretary to made use of. If obscurity or poverty were to ex-king George I. after by the abbé Reynel in verse, empt a man from satire, much more should folly or dullness, which are still more involuntary; nay, as much so as personal deformity. But even this will not help them: deformity becomes an object of ridicule, when a man sets up for being handsome; and so must dulness, when he sets up for a wit. They are not ridiculed because ridicule in itself is, or ought to be, a pleasure; but because it is just to undeceive and vindicate the honest and unpretending part of mankind from imposition, because particular interest ought to yield to general, and a great number who are not naturally fools, ought never to be made so, in complaisance to a few who are. Accordingly we find, that in all ages, all vain pretenders, were they ever so poor or ever so dull, have been constantly the topics of the most candid satirists, from the Codrus of Juvenal to the Damon of Boileau. Having mentioned Boileau, the greatest poet VOL. XII. 2 As Mr. Wycherley, at the time the town declaimed against his book of poems; Mr. Walsh, after his death; sir William Trumball, when he had resigned the office of secretary of state; lord Bolingbroke, at his leaving England, after the queen's death; lord Oxford, in his last decline of life; Mr. secretary Craggs, at the end of the South-sea year, and after his death: others only in epitaphs. U RAY VS-SITY they had most abused, namely the greatest and best of all parties. Let me add a further reason, that, though engaged in their friendships, he never espoused their animosities; and can almost singly challenge this honour, not to have written a line of any man, which, through guilt, through shame, or through fear, through variety of fortune, or change of interests, he was ever unwilling to own. thing to expose the pretenders to wit and poetry The judges and magistrates may with full as good reason be reproached with ill-nature for putting the laws in execution against a thief or impostor.The same will hold in the republic of letters, if the critics and judges will let every ignorant pretender to scribbling pass on the world. THEOBALD, LETTER to mist, June 22, 1728. genius, or against the pretensions of writing Attacks may be levelled, either against failures without one. CONCANEN, DEd. to the autHOR OF THE DUNCIAD A satire upon dulness is a thing that has been used and allowed in all ages. I shall conclude with remarking, what a plea-in sure it must be to every reader of humanity, to see all along, that our author. in his very laughter, is not indulging his own ill-nature, but only punishing that of others. As to his poem, those alone are capable of doing it justice, who, to use the words of a great writer, know how hard it is (with regard both to his subject and his manner) vetustis dare novitatem, obsoletis nitorem, obscuris lucem, fastiditis gratiam. I am I WILLIAM CLELAND1. MARTINUS SCRIBLERUS HIS PROLEGOMENA AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE DUNCIAD: WITH THE HYPERCRITICS OF ARISTARCHUS. Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, wicked scribbler ! TESTIMONIES OF AUTHORS CONCERNING OUR POET AND HIS WORKS.. M. SCRIBLERUS LECTORI S. BEFORE we present thee with our exercitations on this most delectable poem (drawn from the many volumes of our adversaria on modern authors) we shall here, according to the laudable usage of editors, collect the various judgments of the learned concerning our poet: various indeed, not only of different authors, but of the same author at different seasons. Nor shall we gather only the testimonies of such eminent wits, as would of course DENNIS' REMARKS ON PRINCE ARTHUR. CANNOT but think it the most reasonable thing in the world, to distinguish good writers, by discou-descend to posterity, and consequently be read raging the bad. Nor is it an ill-natured thing, in relation even to the very persons upon whom the reflections are made. It is true, it may deprive them, a little the sooner, of a short profit and a transitory reputation; but then it may have a good effect, and oblige them (before it, be too late) to decline that for which they are so very unfit, and to have recourse to something in which they may be more successful. CHARACTER OF MR P. 1716. The persons whom Boileau has attacked in his writings, have been for the most part authors, and most of those authors, poets: and the censures he hath passed upon them have been confirmed by all Europe. GILDON, PREF. TO HIS NEW REHEARSAL. It is the common cry of the poetasters of the town, and their fautors, that it is an ill-natured This gentleman was of Scotland, and bred at the university of Utrecht, with the earl of Mar. He served in Spain under earl Rivers. After the peace, he was made one of the commissioners of customs in Scotland, and then of taxes in England; in which, having shown himself for twenty years diligent, punctual, and incorruptible (though without any other assistance of fortune), he was suddenly displaced by the minister, in the sixty-eighth year of his age; and died two months after, in 1741. He was a person of universal learning, nd an enlarged conversation; no man had a warmer heart for his friend, or a si cerer attachment to the constitution of his country. without our collection; but we shall likewise with and education: but as to these, even his conteur- Giles Jacob's Lives of the Poets, vol. ii. in his Crit. |