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EPISTLE TO DR ARBUTHNOT1,

BEING THE

PROLOGUE TO THE SATIRES.

the good fatigu'd, said,

Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead.

The Dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt,

All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out:

Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
They rave, recite, and madden round the land.

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What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide?

They pierce my thickets, thro' my Grot they glide;

By land, by water, they renew the charge;

They stop the chariot, and they board the barge.

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No place is sacred, not the Church is free;

Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me;

Then from the Mint walks forth the Man of rhyme,
Happy to catch me just at Dinner-time.

Is there a Parson, much bemus'd in beer 5,

A maudlin Poetess, a rhyming Peer,

A Clerk, foredoom'd his father's soul to cross,
Who pens a Stanza, when he should engross?

Is there, who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls
With desp'rate charcoal round his darken'd walls??
All fly to TwIT'NAM, and in humble strain
Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.

[John Arbuthnot (born in 1675, died in 1735) besides being a most distinguished member of his profession, the medical, was eminent as a mathematician and a classical scholar. As a politician he was firmly attached to the Tory party, and with Swift became a member of the October Club, established in 1710 by Oxford, Bolingbroke and their political and literary friends. He was also a member of the Scriblerus Club, and to him is attributed the chief share in the famous treatise of M.S. on the Art of Sinking in Poetry, which was published in the Miscellanies of Pope and Swift. The History of John Bull, the Art of Political Lying and other jeux d'esprit of the same kind, were Arbuthnot's own. On the accession of George I. Arbuthnot was deprived of his post as Physician extraordinary at Court. Of Pope's sentiments towards Arbuthnot this Epistle offers the best testimony; Swift said of him that he has more wit than we all have; and more humanity than wit.']

2 Shut, shut the door, good John!] John Searl, his old and faithful servant: whom he has remembered, under that character, in his Will, Warburton.

3 [See Pers. Sat. III. v. 5. Several touches in the Epistle appear to be derived from the same

Satire.]

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4 Mint.] A place to which insolvent debtors retired, to enjoy an illegal protection, which they were there suffered to afford one another, from the persecution of their creditors. Warburton.

5 Some lines in this Epistle had been used in a letter to Thomson [the author of the Seasons] when he was in Italy, and transferred from him to Arbuthnot, which naturally displeased the former, though they lived always on terms of civility and friendship: and Pope earnestly exerted himself, and used all his interest to promote the success of Thomson's Agamemnon. Warton. [The readers of the Seasons will remember the poet's tribute to the virtues of the 'brown October' in Autumn.]

6 The idea is from Boileau's Art of Poetry'charbonner les murailles.' Bowles. 7 After v. 20 in the MS.,

'Is there a Bard in durance? turn them free, With all their brandish'd reams they run to me: Is there a Prentice, having seen two plays, Who would do something in his Sempstress' praise.' Warburton.

8 [As to Pope's Villa at Twickenham, or "Twitenham' as he preferred to write the name, see Introductory Memoir, p. xxxiv.]

Arthur, whose giddy son neglects the Laws,
Imputes to me and my damn'd works the cause:
Poor Cornus sees his frantic wife elope,
And curses Wit, and Poetry, and Pope.

Friend to my Life! (which did not you prolong,
The world had wanted many an idle song2)
What Drop or Nostrum can this plague remove?
Or which must end me, a Fool's wrath or love?
A dire dilemma! either way I'm sped,

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If foes, they write, if friends, they read me dead.
Seiz'd and tied down to judge3, how wretched I!
Who can't be silent, and who will not lie.
To laugh, were want of goodness and of grace,
And to be grave, exceeds all Pow'r of face.
sit with sad civility, I read

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With honest anguish, and an aching head;

And drop at last, but in unwilling ears,

This saving counsel, "Keep your piece nine years."
"Nine years!" cries he, who high in Drury-lane,
Lull'd by soft Zephyrs thro' the broken pane,

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Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before Term ends,
Oblig'd by hunger, and request of friends:
"The piece, you think, is incorrect? why, take it,
"I'm all submission, what you'd have it, make it."
Three things another's modest wishes bound,
My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten pound.
Pitholeon sends to me: "You know his Grace,
"I want a Patron; ask him for a Place."
'Pitholeon libell'd me,'-"but here's a letter
"Informs you, Sir, 'twas when he knew no better.
"Dare you refuse him? Curll8 invites to dine,
"He'll write a Journal, or he'll turn Divine."
Bless me! a packet.-"Tis a stranger sues,
"A Virgin Tragedy, an Orphan Muse10"

1 Arthur,] Arthur Moore, a leading politician of Queen Anne's time, who had raised himself by ability and unscrupulousness to place and power. His son James Moore (afterwards James MooreSmythe), a small placeman and poetaster, and an acquaintance of the Blount family, became a noted object of Pope's scorn. See above all the famous description of the 'Phantom' in the Dunciad, bk. II. vv. 35-50, and cf. Lines to Martha Blount, in Miscellaneous Poems.]

2 [Compare the charming dedication of Thackeray's Pendennis.]

Seiz'd and tied down to judge,] Alluding to the scene in [Wycherley's] Plain-Dealer, where Oldfox gags, and ties down the Widow to hear his well-penn'd stanzas. Warburton. Rather from Horace; vide his Druso. Warton. [Hor. Sat. Bk. I. S. III. v. 86.]

4 [Hor. de Arte Poet. v. 388.]

5 Rhymes ere he wakes,] A pleasant allusion to those words of Milton,

Dictates to me slumb'ring, or inspires

Easy my unpremeditated Verse.

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Warburton.

6 [A service commonly rendered by popular authors of that age to their less successful brethren. Pope wrote a Prologue to a play acted for the benefit of his ancient enemy Dennis in 1733See Miscellaneous Poems.]

7 Pitholeon] The name taken from a foolish Poet of Rhodes, who pretended much to Greek. Schol. in Horat. 1. i. Dr Bentley pretends, that this Pitholeon libelled Cæsar also. See notes on Hor. Sat. 1o. lib. i. P.

8 [Edmund Curll the bookseller.-See Introductory Memoir, p. xxxii.]

9 Meaning the London Journal; a paper in favour of Sir R. Walpole's ministry. Warton.

10 Alludes to a tragedy called the Virgin Queen, by Mr R. Barford, published 1729, who displeased Pope by daring to adopt the fine machinery of his Sylphs in an heroi-comical poem called the Assembly. (1725.) Warton.

If I dislike it, "Furies, death and rage!"
If I approve, "Commend it to the Stage."

There (thank my stars) my whole Commission ends,

The Play'rs and I are, luckily, no friends1,

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Fir'd that the house reject him, "Sdeath I'll print it,

"And shame the fools- Your Int'rest, Sir, with Lintot?!"

'Lintot, dull rogue! will think your price too much:'
"Not, Sir, if you revise it, and retouch."

All my demurs but double his Attacks;

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At last he whispers, "Do; and we go snacks "."

Glad of a quarrel, straight I clap the door,

Sir, let me see your works and you no more.

'Tis sung, when Midas' Ears began to spring, (Midas, a sacred person and a king)

His very Minister who spy'd them first,

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(Some say his Queen") was forc'd to speak, or burst.
And is not mine, my friend, a sorer case,
When ev'ry coxcomb perks them in my face?

A. Good friend, forbear! you deal in dang'rous things.

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I'd never name Queens, Ministers, or Kings;
Keep close to Ears, and those let asses prick;
'Tis nothing- P. Nothing? if they bite and kick?
Out with it, DUNCIAD! let the secret pass,
That secret to each fool, that he's an Ass 6:

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The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?)
The Queen of Midas slept, and so may I.
You think this cruel? take it for a rule,

No creature smarts so little as a fool.

He spins the slight, self-pleasing thread anew :

Let peals of laughter, Codrus! round thee break,
Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack:
Pit, Box, and gall'ry in convulsions hurl'd,
Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world?.
Who shames a Scribbler? break one cobweb thro',

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Destroy his fib or sophistry, in vain,

The creature's at his dirty work again,
Thron'd in the centre of his thin designs,
Proud of a vast extent of flimsy lines!
Whom have I hurt? has Poet yet, or Peer,
Lost the arch'd eye-brow, or Parnassian sneer?
And has not Colley still his Lord, and whore?

1 Ver. 60 in the former Ed.
'Cibber and I are luckily no friends.'

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Barber, but by Chaucer of his Queen. See Wife of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables. P. Warburton. 6 [Some 'false' editions of the Dunciad having [Pope's own dramatic effort Three Hours after an owl in their frontispiece, like the original ediMarriage had been deservedly damned in 1717; whence the origin of his quarrel with Colley Cibber.]

[Bernard Lintot, who began to publish for Pope in 1712.]

3 [i.e. go shares. Snag or snack is properly a hastily snatched bit of food.]

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tion, the next true edition, to distinguish it, fixed
in its stead an ass laden with authors.]
7 Alluding to Horace. [Od. III. 3.]
Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruinæ. P.
['The mighty crack,' as Warton points out, is
Addison's phrase in his version of the ode, ridi-
culed by Martinus Scriblerus.]

His Butchers Henley, his free-masons Moore ??
Does not one table Bavius still admit?

Still to one Bishop Philips seem a wit3?

Still Sappho A. Hold! for God's sake-you'll offend,
No Names!-be calm!-learn prudence of a friend!
I too could write, and I am twice as tall;

But foes like these P. One Flatt'rer's worse than all.
Of all mad creatures, if the learn'd are right,
It is the slaver kills,

and not the bite.

A fool quite angry is quite innocent:
Alas! 'tis ten times worse when they repent.
One dedicates in high heroic prose,
And ridicules beyond a hundred foes:
One from all Grubstreet will my fame defend,
And more abusive, calls himself my friend.
This prints my Letters, that expects a bribe,
And others roar aloud, " "Subscribe, subscribe."

There are, who to my person pay their court:
I cough like Horace, and, tho' lean, am short,
Ammon's great son one shoulder had too high,
Such Ovid's nose, and "Sir! you have an Eye5"-
Go on, obliging creatures, make me see
All that disgrac'd my Betters, met in me.
Say for my comfort, languishing in bed,
"Just so immortal Maro held his head:"
And when I die, be sure you let me know
Great Homer died three thousand years ago.

Why did I write? what sin to me unknown
Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own?
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame 7,
I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers cames.
I left no calling for this idle trade,

No duty broke, no father disobey'd9.

The Muse but serv'd to ease some friend, not Wife,
To help me thro' this long disease, my Life,

1 [Henley, see Dunciad, III. 199 and foll.] His oratory was among the butchers in Newport Market and Butcher Row. Bowles.]

2 free-masons Moore?] He was of this society, and frequently headed their processions. Warburton.

3 Boulter, afterwards Primate of all Ireland, was Ambrose Philips' great friend and patron. Bowles. [Ambrose, or namby-pamby, Philips, whose Pastorals were published in the same Miscellany as those of Pope, and with whom the latter quarrelled. He became M. P. for Armagh through the influence of his patron.]

4 [Some of Pope's letters to Cromwell had been surreptitiously printed by Curll in 1726.]

5 Sir! you have an Eye] It is remarkable that amongst these compliments on his infirmities and deformities, he mentions his eye, which was fine, sharp, and piercing. Warburton. 6 After v. 124 in the MS.

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7 [See Introductory Memoir, p. xlvi.]
8 From Ovid [Trist. bk. iv. El. x. vv. 25-6.]
Warton.

9 No father disobey'd.] When Mr Pope was
yet a Child, his Father, though no Poet, would
set him to make English verses.
He was pretty
difficult to please, and would often send the boy
back to new turn them. When they were to his
mind, he took great pleasure in them, and would
say, These are good rhymes. Warburton.

To second, ARBUTHNOT! thy Art and Care,
And teach the Being you preserv'd, to bear.
But why then publish? Granville the polite1,
And knowing Walsh, would tell me I could write;
Well-natur'd Garth inflam'd with early praise;
And Congreve lov'd, and Swift endur'd my lays;
The courtly Talbot, Somers, Sheffield' read;
Ev'n mitred Rochester8 would nod the head,
And St. John's self (great Dryden's friends before)
With open arms receiv'd one Poet more.
Happy my studies, when by these approv'd!
Happier their author, when by these belov'd!
From these the world will judge of men and books,
Not from the Burnets, Oldmixons, and Cookes 10.

Soft were my numbers; who could take offence,
While pure Description held the place of Sense?
Like gentle Fanny's was my flow'ry theme,
A painted mistress, or a purling stream11.
Yet then did Gildon1 draw his venal quill;—
I wish'd the man a dinner, and sat still.
Yet then did Dennis 13 rave in furious fret ;

I never answer'd,-I was not in debt.

If want provok'd, or madness made them print,
I wag'd no war with Bedlam or the Mint1⁄44.
Did some more sober Critic come abroad;
If wrong, I smil'd; if right, I kiss'd the rod.
Pains, reading, study, are their just pretence,
And all they want is spirit, taste, and sense.

1.[See note to p. 15.] 2 [See note to p. 13.] 3 [See note to p. 17.]

4 [William Congreve (born 1669, died 1728,) the author of the Mourning Bride and many famous comedies, was one of those who encouraged Pope's earliest efforts.]

5 Talbot, &c.] All these were Patrons or Admirers of Mr Dryden; tho' a scandalous libel against him entitled, Dryden's Satyr to his Muse, has been printed in the name of the Lord Somers, of which he has wholly ignorant.

These are the persons to whose account the author charges the publication of his first pieces: persons with whom he was conversant (and he adds beloved) at 16 or 17 years of age; an early period for such acquaintance. The catalogue might be made yet more illustrious, had he not confined it to that time when he writ the Pastorals and Windsor Forest, on which he passes a sort of censure in the lines following,

While pure description held the place of
Sense, &c. P.

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[Talbot. See Pope's note to Epilogue to Satires, Dial. II. v. 79.

6 [Somers. See Pope's note ib. v. 77.] 7 [Sheffield. See note to Essay on Criticism, v. 724.]

8 [Atterbury bishop of Rochester. to Epitaph XIII.]

See note

9 [See note to p. 191.]

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10 Burnets, &c.] Authors of secret and scandalous History. P.

Burnets, Oldmixons, and Cookes.] By no means Authors of the same class, though the violence of party might hurry them into the same mistakes. But if the first offended this way, it was only through an honest warmth of temper, that allowed too little to an excellent understanding. The other two, with very bad heads, had hearts still worse. P.

[Gilbert Burnet bishop of Salisbury, the author of the History of My own Times from the Restoration to the Peace of Utrecht (which Swift annotated in the spirit of Pope's reference), died in 1715; Oldmixon, see Dunciad, II. vv. 282, foll.; and Cooke, see ib. II. 138 and notes.]

11 Meaning the Rape of the Lock, and Windsor Forest. Warburton. A painted meadow &c. is a verse of Mr Addison. P.

12 [Charles Gildon, a converted Roman Catholic, of whom Warburton says in a note to Dunciad, 1. 296, that 'he signalised himself as a critic, having written some very bad plays; abused Pope very scandalously in an anonymous pamphlet of the Life of Mr Wycherly, and in other pamphlets.' See also Dunciad, III. 173.]

13 [See Essay on Criticism, vv. 270, 586; and Dunciad, passim.] 14 [Cf. ante, v. 13.]

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