1

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 song 2)
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,

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.
I sit with sad civility, I read

With honest anguish, and an aching head;
And drop at last, but in unwilling ears,

This saving counsel, "Keep your piece nine years 4.”
"Nine years!" cries he, who high in Drury-lane,
Lull'd by soft Zephyrs thro' the broken pane,
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.]

3 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.

25

30

335

40

50

55

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. 10. lib. i. P.

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

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

in

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 friends 1,

60

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;

65

At last he whispers, "Do; and we go snacks 3."
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,

70

(Some say his Queen 5) 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.

75

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®:

80

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.

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'.

85

Who shames a Scribbler? break one cobweb thro',

He spins the slight, self-pleasing thread anew :

.90

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.' Warburton. [Pope's own dramatic effort Three Hours after Marriage 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.]

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

4 [Pers. Sat. 1. 120.]

Queen] The story is told, by some, of his

Barber, but by Chaucer of his Queen.
of Bath's Tale in Dryden's Fables. P.

6 [Some 'false' editions of the Dunciad having an owl in their frontispiece, like the original edition, 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, ridiculed by Martinus Scriblerus.]

His Butchers1 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,

105

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 Eye”—
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",

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.]

[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.

110

115

120

125

130

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 Gildon12 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 Mint 14.
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.

Commas and points they set exactly right,
And 'twere a sin to rob them of their mite.
Yet ne'er one sprig of laurel grac'd these ribalds,
From slashing Bentley1 down to pidling Tibalds":
Each wight, who reads not, and but scans and spells,
Each Word-catcher, that lives on syllables,
Ev'n such small Critics some regard may claim,
Preserv'd in Milton's or in Shakespeare's name3.
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms

Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms 4!
The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare,
But wonder how the devil they got there.
Were others angry: I excus'd them too;
Well might they rage, I gave them but their due.
A man's true merit 'tis not hard to find;
But each man's secret standard in his mind,
That Casting-weight pride adds to emptiness,
This, who can gratify? for who can guess?
The Bard whom pilfer'd Pastorals renown,
Who turns a Persian tale for half a Crown 5,

165

170

175

180

Just writes to make his barrenness appear,

And strains, from hard-bound brains, eight lines a year;

He, who still wanting, tho' he lives on theft,

Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left":

185

And He, who now to sense, now nonsense leaning,
Means not, but blunders round about a meaning7:
And He, whose fustian's so sublimely bad,

It is not Poetry, but prose run mad3:

All these, my modest Satire bade translate,
And own'd that nine such Poets made a Tate 10.
How did they fume, and stamp, and roar, and chafe!
And swear, not ADDISON himself was safe.

1 [Dr Richard Bentley. See Dunciad, IV. 201.] [As to Theobald, see Introduction to Dunciad.]

3 [Bentley's edition of Paradise Lost, which appeared in 1732, was at once the last and the least worthy effort of his critical prowess; as to Theobald's Shakspere, it was an honest and not wholly unsuccessful piece of work, and a better edition than Pope's own. Bentley's Milton is better characterised in Imitations of Horace, 1. Ep. of II. Bk. vv. 103-4.]

4 [Warburton has a characteristic note on this passage, referring with unconscious irony to his own edition of Shakspere-the edition which pointed the best of Foote's jests, when he compared a chimney-sweep on a noble steed to 'Warburton on Shakspere.']

5 [Ambrose Philips, v. ante v. 100. Philips translated the Persian Tales, as well as two 'Olympioniques' of Pindar, and other Greek poems. His Pastorals brought him 'renown' at the hands of Gildon, who in his Art of Poetry ranked him with Theocritus and Vergil.]

190

6 Steals much, spends little, yet has nothing left:] A fine improvement of this line of Boileau, Qui toujours emprunt, et jamais ne gagne rien. Warburton.

7 Means not, but blunders round about a meaning:] A case common both to Poets and Critics of a certain order; only with this difference, that the Poet writes himself out of his own meaning; and the Critic never gets into another man's. Yet both keep going on, and blundering round about their subject, as benighted people are wont to do, who seek for an entrance which they cannot find.

8 A verse of Dr Evans. Wilkes.

9 All these my modest Satire bade translate,] See their works, in the Translations of classical books by several hands.

10 [Nahum Tate, compendiously described by the late Prof. Craik as the author of the worst alterations of Shakspere, the worst version of the psalms of David, and the worst continuation of a great poem (Absalom and Achitophel) extant.']