VOL. II. For this,
unquestionably, there are some subordinate reasons. "We cannot bear a Papist to be our principal
bard," said one class. Think, for instance, of the words in Lear,
"Prithee, undo this button. Thank you, sir." Now, Pope, we fear, wanted almost entirely
this true second sight. Take, for instance, the "lock" in the famous
"Rape!" As it is, it proves wonderful activity of
fancy. He
had not, in short, the basis of a truly great poet, either in
imagination or in nature. His culture, like his genius, was rather elegant than profound. Was it high,
holy, and faithfully pursued? Now, Pope's
purpose seems, on the whole, dim and uncertain. He is neither an infidel nor
a Christian; no Whig, but no very ardent Tory either. And so, too often, did their poet. He
has no humour, at least in his poetry. In depicting
character, it is very different. Chapman is Chapman, but he is not Homer. As it
is, his works resemble rather the London Colosseum than Westminster
Abbey. A List of Books, Papers, and Verses
III. 2. 3. 4. ARGUMENT. 1. General maxims, unless they be formed upon both, will be
but notional, ver. 10. 15. 31. 41. 51. 71. 70, &c. Nothing constant and certain
but God and nature, ver. 95. No judging of the motives from the actions;
the same actions proceeding from contrary motives, and the same motives
influencing contrary actions, ver. 100. II. 120. And some reason for it, ver. 140. 149. No
judging by nature, from ver. III. Instanced in the extraordinary character of Clodio,
ver. 179. gone as soon as found,
Now in the moon perhaps, now under ground. II. Suppress them, or miscall them policy? But, sage historians! III. He'll shine a Tully and a Wilmot[8] too. Thus with each gift of nature and of art,
And wanting nothing but an honest heart;
Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt;
And most contemptible, to shun contempt;
His passion still to covet general praise,
His life, to forfeit it a thousand ways;
A constant bounty which no friend has made;
An angel tongue, which no man can persuade;
A fool, with more of wit than half mankind, 200
Too rash for thought, for action too refined;
A tyrant to the wife his heart approves;
A rebel to the very king he loves;
He dies, sad outcast of each church and state,
And, harder still! flagitious, yet not great. Consistent in our follies and our sins,
Here honest Nature ends as she begins. cries Helluo, 'mercy on my soul! 'Your money, sir?' 'My money, sir, what! 'The manor, sir?' And you, brave Cobham! VARIATIONS. After VER. VER. 208--
Nature well known, no _miracles_ remain. Come then, the colours and the ground prepare! Sudden, she storms! 90
Then all for death, that opiate of the soul! Lucretia's dagger, Rosamonda's bowl. A spark too fickle, or a spouse too kind. 100
Turn then from wits; and look on Simo's mate,
No ass so meek, no ass so obstinate. how charming, if there's no such place!' So very reasonable, so unmoved,
As never yet to love, or to be loved. 170
Forbid it, Heaven! She bids her footman put it in her head. Chloe is prudent--would you, too, be wise? and described by all
With truth and goodness, as with crown and ball. 'Tis well--but, artists! who can paint or write,
To draw the naked is your true delight. Ah, friend! Oh! VARIATIONS. VER. After VER. One makes her poor, the other makes her mad. After VER. this only could afflict her more,
If any part should wander to the poor. After VER. ARGUMENT. 21 to 77. Conjectures
about the motives of avaricious men, ver. 179. How
a prodigal does the same, ver. l99. The due medium, and true use of
riches, ver. 250. 300, &c. The story of Sir Balaam, ver. _P_. 20
_B_. _P_. Trade it may help, society extend. _P_. But lures the pirate, and corrupts the friend. 30
_B_. _P_. But bribes a senate, and the land's betray'd. Since then, my lord, on such a world we fall,
What say you? _B_. Why, take it, gold and all. _P_. _B_. _P_. Meat, clothes, and fire. 110
_B_. _P_. whose life one avarice joins,
And one fate buries in the Asturian mines. Ask we what makes one keep, and one bestow? _B_. _P_. Who starves by nobles, or with nobles eats? The wretch that trusts them, and the rogue that cheats. Where'er he shines, O Fortune! gild the scene,
And angels guard him in the golden mean! Rise, honest Muse! 'The Man of Ross,' each lisping babe replies. enter but his door,
Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more. _B_. _P_. 280
Blush, Grandeur, blush! proud courts, withdraw your blaze! Ye little stars, hide your diminish'd rays! _B_. no monument, inscription, stone? His race, his form, his name almost unknown? _P_. As well his Grace replied, 'Like you, Sir John? That I can do, when all I have is gone.' Agreed. _P_. In Britain's senate he a seat obtains,
And one more pensioner St Stephen gains. VARIATIONS. After VER. VER. After VER. After VER. After VER. VER. VER. ARGUMENT. The abuse of the
word 'taste,' ver. 13. 40. 50. ii. and in the epistle preceding this, ver. 191, to the end. no more
Than his fine wife, alas! For what has Virro painted, built, and planted? have a taste.' And if they starve, they starve by rules of art. Lo, what huge heaps of littleness around! His study! Lo! some are vellum, and the rest as good
For all his lordship knows, but they are wood. No, 'tis a temple, and a hecatomb. 190
You, too, proceed! After VER. The very tombs now vanish'd, like their dead! Convinced, she now contracts her vast design,
And all her triumphs shrink into a coin. To gain Pescennius one employs his schemes,
One grasps a Cecrops in ecstatic dreams. Oh! My music, then, you could for ever hear,
And all my words were music to your ear. But ah, beware, Sicilian nymphs! He's gone, whom only she desired to please! See, while I write, my words are lost in tears! The less my sense, the more my love appears. No lover's gift your Sappho could confer,
And wrongs and woes were all you left with her. No charge I gave you, and no charge could give,
But this, 'Be mindful of our loves, and live.' he cries. 200
I go, ye nymphs! I go, ye nymphs! But why, alas! Ah! Ah! Return, fair youth! Oh when, alas! If you return--ah, why these long delays? what cause can be,
Too cruel youth, that you should fly from me?) I saw, unhappy! My sire, my sister, and my spouse, farewell! Ah, beauteous maid! let this example move
Your mind, averse from all the joys of love. THE FIRST BOOK OF STATIUS'S THEBAIS. ARGUMENT. He inquires, and is made acquainted with their descent and
quality. Oh! 60
What hero, Clio! The rage of Tydeus, or the prophet's fate? Art thou a father, unregarding Jove! Must we, alas! Thou sire of gods and men, imperial Jove! Yet who, before, more popularly bow'd? For this, I suffer'd Phoebus' steeds to stray,
And the mad ruler to misguide the day,
When the wide earth to heaps of ashes turn'd, 310
And Heaven itself the wandering chariot burn'd:
For this my brother of the watery reign
Released the impetuous sluices of the main;
But flames consumed, and billows raged in vain. Two races now, allied to Jove, offend;
To punish these, see Jove himself descend. Thy curse, O OEdipus! Say, can those honours please? Reverse, O Jove! lay hid from thee,
Though skill'd in fate and dark futurity. Hail, faithful Tripos! 'How mean a fate, unhappy child! Ah! my nation or my name,
Or through what veins our ancient blood has roll'd? whose head the blaze of light adorns,
Who grasps the struggling heifer's lunar horns.' * * * * *
JANUARY AND MAY. ah, gentle deities! This, sir, affects not you, whose every word
Is weigh'd with judgment, and befits a lord:
Your will is mine: and is (I will maintain)
Pleasing to God, and should be so to man;
At least your courage all the world must praise, 170
Who dare to wed in your declining days. If what I speak my noble lord offend,
My tedious sermon here is at an end.' This Justin heard, nor could his spleen control,
Touch'd to the quick, and tickled at the soul. Nor was it hard to move the lady's mind;
When fortune favours, still the fair are kind. Th' obliging dames obey'd with one consent: 410
They left the hall, and to his lodging went. The rage of jealousy then seized his mind,
For much he fear'd the faith of womankind. Ah! Arise, my wife, my beauteous lady, rise! To die this instant, than to lose thy love. Each other loss with patience I can bear,
The loss of thee is what I only fear. He ceased, and May with modest grace replied,
(Weak was her voice, as while she spoke she cried):
'Heaven knows (with that a tender sigh she drew)
I have a soul to save as well as you;
And, what no less you to my charge commend,
My dearest honour will to death defend. Now, by my mother's soul, it is decreed,
She shall not want an answer at her need. 'Well, I'm a woman, and as such must speak;
Silence would swell me, and my heart would break. Try when you list; and you shall find, my lord,
It is not in our sex to break our word.' She stopp'd, and sighing, 'O good gods!' With that his back against the trunk he bent;
She seized a twig, and up the tree she went. In that nice moment, lo! Unhappy wife, whose crime was too much love!' may hell 770
As surely seize thee, as I saw too well.' 'Guard me, good angels!' Alas, my love! as 'tis no perfect sight,
But some faint glimmering of a doubtful light.' 'Ah, my loved lord! 820
THE WIFE OF BATH, HER PROLOGUE. so am not I. Hark, old Sir Paul! If I but see a cousin or a friend, 80
Lord! how you swell and rage, like any fiend! On Jenkin, too, you cast a squinting eye:
What! Sir, I'm no fool; nor shall you, by St John,
Have goods and body to yourself alone. Lo! If once my husband's arm was o'er my side,
'What! Well, I may make my will in peace, and die,
For not one word in man's arrears am I. Why, take me, love! I'm all your own--nay, hold--for shame! What means my dear?--indeed, you are to blame.' Thus with my first three lords I pass'd my life,
A very woman, and a very wife. 220
But oh, good gods! I say no more. he show'd a pair
Of legs and feet so clean, so strong, so fair! As the stars order'd, such my life has been:
Alas, alas! And so do numbers more, I'll boldly say,
Men, women, clergy, regular, and lay. fye, for shame! With that my husband in a fury rose,
And down he settled me with hearty blows. I groan'd, and lay extended on my side;
'Oh! Soon as he said, 'My mistress and my wife! A common soldier, but who clubb'd his mite? Who hears him groan, and does not wish to bleed? Britons, attend: be worth like this approved,
And show you have the virtue to be moved. PROLOGUE, DESIGNED FOR MR D'URFEY'S LAST PLAY. Let ease, his last request, be of your giving,
Nor force him to be damn'd to get his living. Why on all authors, then, should critics fall? Since some have writ, and shown no wit at all. If any fool is by our satire bit,
Let him hiss loud, to show you all he's hit. Gallants, look here! this fool's cap[60] has an air, 30
Goodly and smart, with ears of Issachar. SMILINDA. SMILINDA. Is that the grief, which you compare with mine? Were lovely Sharper mine, and mine alone. Oh! 20
SMILINDA. LOVET. Tell, tell your griefs; attentive will I stay,
Though time is precious, and I want some tea. SMILINDA. This snuff-box,--once the pledge of Sharper's love,
When rival beauties for the present strove;
At Corticelli's he the raffle won;
Then first his passion was in public shown: 40
Hazardia blush'd, and turn'd her head aside,
A rival's envy (all in vain) to hide. This snuff-box,--on the hinge see brilliants shine:
This snuff-box will I stake; the prize is mine. In complaisance, I took the Queen he gave;
Though my own secret wish was for the Knave. SMILINDA. 70
SMILINDA. Fired by the sight, all reason I disdain;
My passions rise, and will not bear the rein. SMILINDA. SMILINDA. LOVET. Now leave complaining, and begin your tea. It came from Bertrand's,[64] not the skies;
I gave it you to write again. UN JOUR DIT UN AUTEUR, ETC. 'Tis a bledam,
Seen with wit and beauty seldom. Tis, (no, 'tisn't) like Miss Meadows. I know a reasonable woman,
Handsome and witty, yet a friend. 3 'Has she no faults, then (Envy says), sir?' VARIATIONS. After VER. --i.e. ROXANA, OR THE DRAWING-ROOM. For this, new-set the jewels for my hair? Ah, Princess! For thee, ah! Alas, how changed! Ah, royal Princess! 50
Ah, Princess! LINES SUNG BY DURASTANTI,
WHEN SHE TOOK LEAVE OF THE ENGLISH STAGE. From your charms, oh! Happy soil, adieu, adieu! The chimneys are so well design'd,
They never smoke in any wind. I find by all you have been telling
That 'tis a house, but not a dwelling.' THE CHALLENGE, A COURT BALLAD. [74]
With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. [75]
With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. With a fa, la, la. I am His Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you? 2 Soft B----s and rough C----s, adieu! 5 Lintot, farewell! calls. 9 Why make I friendships with the great,
When I no favour seek. 5 Rare imp of Phoebus, hopeful youth! Forsooth, if rhymes fall not in right,
To Budgell seek, or Carey. Since you have brains as well as men,
As witness Lady Wortley. Quoth Sandys, 'To waste paper.' UMBRA. SYLVIA, A FRAGMENT. EPIGRAM. ON MRS TOFTS, A CELEBRATED OPERA SINGER. EPIGRAM. Well, then, poor G---- lies under ground! So little justice here he found,
'Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back. TO A LADY, WITH THE 'TEMPLE OF FAME.' Part you with one, and I'll renounce the other. Did Milton's prose, O Charles! Know,
A weak officious friend becomes a foe. TO ERINNA. A DIALOGUE. POPE. CRAGGS. May my lays
Swell with praise,
Worthy thee! Muse, inspire
All thy fire! See him stride
Valleys wide,
Over woods,
Over floods! Left and right,
Speed your flight! Turn'd aside
From his hide
Safe from wound,
Darts rebound. 40
When he eats,
Famine threats! When he drinks,
Neptune shrinks! A PASTORAL. She dragg'd the cruet, but no Grildrig found. 'Vain is thy courage, Grilly, vain thy boast! Yes, thousands! But if my life be doom'd to serve the bad,
Oh! HOUYHNHNM. AN EPISTLE. what, shun a wife's embrace? Your eyes, your nose, inconstancy betray;
Your nose you stop, your eyes you turn away. 10
Hear, and relent! Thy Christian seed, our mutual flesh and bone:
Be kind at least to these; they are thy own. Vain means, alas, this frenzy to appease! That straw, that straw, would heighten the disease. The neighbours answer, 'With the sorrel mare!' For when he sign'd thy death, he sentenced me. Glumdalclitch, too! My life, alas! I fear, proved death to thee. A FRAGMENT OF A POEM. Of Ch---s W----[96] who speaks at all,
No more than of Sir Har--y or Sir P----. How! The plague is on thee, Britain, and who tries
To save thee, in the infectious office _dies_. Is then a greater work in hand,
Than all the tomes of Haines's band? ON AN OLD GATE. O gate, how cam'st thou here? _Gate_. A FRAGMENT. TO MR GAY,
WHO HAD CONGRATULATED POPE ON FINISHING HIS HOUSE AND GARDENS. 'Ah, friend! ARGUS. LINES ON A GROTTO, AT CRUX-EASTON, HANTS. MAX. I found this was not all. He has
laughed, and written 'The Dunciad.' The next objection is, that these sort of authors are poor. Others, I am told, pretend to have been once his friends. At that rate, he would be the most
obliged humble servant in the world. [133]
ST JAMES'S, _Dec_. 22, 1728. DENNIS, REMARKS ON PR. ARTHUR. CHARACTER OF MR P., 1716. GILDON, PREF. TO HIS NEW REHEARSAL. CONCANEN, DED. Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, wicked scribbler. ill-fated youth,
Thy tale will justify this truth. 40. MIST'S JOURNAL, JUNE 8, 1728. In verity, the whole story of the libel is a lie. Go to the good and just, an awful train! Thy soul's delight. Bless'd in thy life, and bless'd in all thy lays. Could he have let them
alone, by this time, poor souls! Such, sir,
is your work. This, though an empty, has been a popular scribbler. '[188] (Here, gentle reader! [191] The loftiest heroics, the lowest
ballads, treatises against the State or Church, satires on lords and
ladies, raillery on wits and authors, squabbles with booksellers, or
even full and true accounts of monsters, poisons, and murders; of any
hereof was there nothing so good, nothing so bad, which hath not at one
or other season been to him ascribed. Of which, let the reader make what he can. Itaque qui bonos diligit, et malos odit; et qui malos non odit,
nec bonos diligit. For contrary
objects must either excite contrary affections, or no affections at all. It hath been long, and, alas for
pity! This being confessed, come we now to particulars. His bravery, we know, was a
high courage of blasphemy. saith he,
'fast asleep, it seems! ARGUMENT. The proposition, the invocation, and the inscription. Say you, her instruments, the great! of Greece and Rome
Well purged, and worthy Settle, Banks, and Broome. Or, if to wit a coxcomb make pretence,
Guard the sure barrier between that and sense;
Or quite unravel all the reasoning thread,
And hang some curious cobweb in its stead! Could Troy be saved by any single hand,
This gray-goose weapon must have made her stand. Ourself. Still, still remain
Cibberian forehead, and Cibberian brain. O born in sin, and forth in folly brought! Works damn'd, or to be damn'd (your father's fault)! as when on shrieves and mayors
She looks, and breathes herself into their airs. She bids him wait her to her sacred dome:
Well pleased he enter'd, and confessed his home. And, lo! and hail again,
My son! 300
Lift up your gates, ye princes, see him come! Sound, sound, ye viols, be the cat-call dumb! So when Jove's block descended from on high
(As sings thy great forefather Ogilby[289]),
Loud thunder to its bottom shook the bog,
And the hoarse nation croak'd, God save King Log! VARIATIONS. VER. 1. Say, great patricians! VER. 29. VER. VER. VER. VER. 108. Here swells the shelf, &c.--
VER. 146. VER. VER. 177. Or, if to wit, &c. In the former edition--
Ah! For thee supplying, in the worst of days. As, forced from wind-guns, &c.
VER. Could Troy be saved, &c.--
VER. am thine. VER. 225. O born in sin, &c. In the former edition--
Adieu, my children! 250. VER. So when Jove's block, &c.
BOOK THE SECOND. ARGUMENT. Next, the game for a poetess. 30
With authors, stationers obey'd the call,
(The field of glory is a field for all). The race by vigour, not by vaunts is won;
So take the hindmost Hell.' No rag, no scrap, of all the beau, or wit,
That once so flutter'd, and that once so writ. 170
First Osborne lean'd against his letter'd post;
It rose, and labour'd to a curve at most. The Queen of Love
Her sister sends, her votaress, from above. [323] peal'd thy voice, and, Whitfield! All hail him victor in both gifts of song,
Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long. 'Here strip, my children! Ah why, ye gods! All look, all sigh, and call on Smedley lost;
'Smedley!' in vain, resounds through all the coast. just buoyant on the flood,
Then number'd with the puppies in the mud. these were, the gazetteers! When, lo! He ceased, and spread the robe; the crowd confess
The reverend Flamen in his lengthen'd dress. VARIATIONS. VER. VER. 399. VER. 413. BOOK THE THIRD. ARGUMENT. [353]
Wond'ring he gazed: when, lo! And all who since, in mild benighted days,
Mix'd the owl's ivy with the poet's bays. [356]
'How little, mark! Lo! sleeveless some, and shirtless others. had she seen
No fiercer sons, had Easter never been. 'And see, my son! What aids, what armies to assert her cause! See all her progeny, illustrious sight! Behold, and count them, as they rise to light. 'Silence, ye wolves! Flow, Welsted, flow! Embrace, embrace, my sons! Henley[364] stands,
Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands. How sweet the periods, neither said nor sung! Still break the benches, Henley! with One, immortal One dispense,
The source of Newton's light, of Bacon's sense. 'Son, what thou seek'st is in thee! Look, and find
Each monster meets his likeness in thy mind. his nod these worlds controls,
Wings the red lightning, and the thunder rolls. 'But, lo! Avert it, Heaven! here, all ye heroes, bow! This, this is he, foretold by ancient rhymes:
Th' Augustus born to bring Saturnian times. Ambrose Philips[378] is preferr'd for wit! thy fate;
And Pope's, ten years to comment and translate. 'Proceed, great days! VER. 73. VER. 149. And mighty Jacob, blunderbuss of law! VER. 151. VER. After VER. VER. After VER. VER. Safe in its heaviness, etc. VER. 323. Proceed great days, &c.
VER. 331. ARGUMENT. Morality, by her false guardians drawn. When, lo! And you, my critics! When, lo! How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast! Oh! Nor wert thou, Isis! 'Ah, think not, mistress! Then take him to develop, if you can,
And hew the block off,[408] and get out the man. Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew:
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too. like each neighbour throne,
And make a long posterity thy own.' 340
Thee, too, my Paridel! 'Grant, gracious goddess! Mine, goddess! 'Witness, great Ammon! 390
To prove me, goddess! and each youth, divine! and no youth, divine! And lo, the wretch! He ceased, and wept. (she answer'd) both have done your parts:
Live happy both, and long promote our arts. O! Then take them all, oh, take them to thy breast! Thy Magus, goddess! No more, alas! Great C----, H----, P----, R----, K----,
Why all your toils? The sire is made a peer, the son a fool. Thy truffles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne! Nor pass'd the meanest unregarded; one
Rose a Gregorian, one a Gormogon. 580
All my commands are easy, short, and full:
My sons! be proud, be selfish, and be dull. Physic of Metaphysic begs defence,
And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! VARIATIONS. VER. no respect, he cried, for Shakspeare's page?' VER. VER. Declarat' cor' me,
JOHN BARBER, Mayor. Reflections Critical and Satirical on a late Rhapsody, called an Essay
on Criticism. By Mr Dennis. Anon. Printed for J. Roberts, 1714, price 1s. [Tho. Burnet and G. Ducket,
Esquires]. Printed for W. Wilkins, 1715, price 9d. Aesop at the Bear Garden; a Vision, in imitation of the Temple of Fame. By
George Ducket, Esq. Anon. [By Griffin, a player,
supervised by Mr Th---]. A True Character of Mr P. and his Writings, in a Letter to a Friend. Anon. [Dennis]. Printed for S. Popping, 1716, price 3d. The Confederates, a Farce. [J. D. Breval]. Printed for R.
Burleigh, 1717, price 1s. By Mr Dennis. Printed for E.
Curll, 1717, price 1s. 6d. [Bez. Morris]. 1717, price 6d. The Triumvirate; or, a Letter from Palaemon to Celia at Bath. Anon. [Leonard Welsted]. 1711, folio, price 1s. The Battle of Poets, an Heroic Poem. Printed for J.
Roberts. Folio, 1725. Anon. [Eliza Haywood]. Octavo, printed in 1727. Octavo, printed 1728. Octavo, 1728. Octavo, 1728. Octavo. British Journal, Nov. 25, 1727. Daily Journal, March 18, 1728. _Ibid_. Mist's Weekly Journal, March 30. Daily Journal, April 3. Flying Post, April 4. Daily Journal, April 5. The Flying Post, April 6. The Senator, April 9. On the same. By Edward Roome. Daily Journal, April 8. Flying Post, April 13. Verses against Dr Swift, and against Mr P---'s
Homer. Daily Journal, April 23. Daily Journal, May 11. Anon. [John
Dennis]. Essays, &c. By Sir Richard Blackmore. And so
of others. AFTER THE DUNCIAD, 1728. Printed for J. Roberts. By J. Ralph [a person never mentioned in it at first, but
inserted after]. Printed for J. Roberts, octavo. By E. Curll. 12mo, price 6d. A Second and Third Edition of the same, with Additions, 12mo. The Popiad. By E. Curll. 12mo, price 6d. 12mo. By J. Smedley. Printed
for A. Moore, folio, price 6d. 12mo. Printed for J. Roberts, octavo. Octavo. By Mr Dennis. Octavo. Anon. Octavo. Mist's Weekly Journal, June 8. A long Letter, signed W. A. Daily Journal, June 11. Many other little Epigrams about this time in the same
papers, by James Moore, and others. Mist's Journal, June 22. Flying Post, August 8. Daily Journal, August 8. By Edward Ward, with a
little of James Moore. By E. Ward. Quarto. Writ by E.
Roome. Folio. Labeo. By a Lady (or between a Lady, a Lord,
and a Court-squire). Printed for J. Roberts. Folio. Printed for J. Roberts. Folio. Printed for W. Lewis in Covent
Garden. Octavo. W. W. MR DRYDEN--HIS POLITICS, RELIGION, MORALS. It is _scandalum magnatum_, yea of majesty
itself. Mr Dryden was once, I have heard, at Westminster school. He writes for the
ladies, and not for use. [483]
MR POPE--HIS POLITICS, RELIGION, MORALS. [484] Some call him a Popish Whig, which is directly
inconsistent. [485] Pope, as a papist, must be a Tory and
High-flyer. [507]
A Coward.--A lurking, way-laying coward. THE FIRST NUMBER SHOWS THE BOOK; THE SECOND, THE VERSE. Ambrose Philips, i. 326. Attila, iii. 92. Alaric, iii. 91. Alma Mater, iii. 388. Annius, an antiquary, iv. Arnall, William, ii. Addison, ii. 124, 140. Atterbury, iv. Blackmore, Sir Richard, i. Bezaleel Morris, ii. 168. Banks, i. 146. Broome, ibid. Bond, ii. 126. Brown, iii. 28. Bladen, iv. 560. Budgel, Esq., ii. 337. Bentley, Richard, iv. 201. Bentley, Thomas, ii. 205. Boyer, Abel, ii. 413. Bland, a gazetteer, i. Breval, J. Durant, ii. 126, 238. Benlowes, iii. 21. Bavius, ibid. Burmannus, iv. 237. Benson, William, Esq., iii. 110. Burgersdyck, iv. Boeotians, iii. 50. Bruin and Bears, i, 101. Bear and Fiddle, i. 224. Burnet, Thomas, iii. 179. Bacon, iii. 215. Barrow, Dr, iv. Cibber, Colley, Hero of the Poem, passim. Cibber, sen., i. 31. Cibber, jun., iii. 139, 326. Caxton, William, i. 149. Curll, Edm., i. 40; ii. 3, 58, 167, &c.
Cooke, Thomas, ii. Concanen, Matthew, ii. 299,
Centlivre, Susannah, ii. Caesar in Aegypt, i. Chi Ho-am-ti, Emperor of China, iii. 75. Crousaz, iv. Codrus, ii. 144. Congreve, ii. Chesterfield, iv. 43. Defoe, Daniel, i. Defoe, Norton, ii. De Lyra, or Harpsfield, i. 153. Dennis, John, i. Dunton, John, ii. 144. D'Urfey, iii. 146. Dutchmen, ii. 51. Doctors, at White's, i. 203. Douglas, iv. Ducket, iii. 179. Eusden, Laurence, Poet Laureate, i. 104. Evans, Dr, ii. 116
Flecknoe, Richard, ii. 2. Faustus, Dr, iii. 233. Fleetwood, iv. 326. Freemasons, iv. French Cooks, iv. 553. Gay, ii. 330. Gildon, Charles, i. 296. Goode, Barn., iii. 153. Goths, iii. 90. Gazetteers, i. Gregorians and Gormogons, iv. 575. Garth, ii. 140. Genseric, iii. 92. Gordon, Thomas, iv. 492. Holland, Philemon, i. Hearne, Thomas, iii. Horneck, Philip, iii. 152. Haywood, Eliza, ii. 157, &c.
Howard, Edward, i. 297.
Henley, John, the Orator, ii. 2, 425; iii. 199, &c.
Huns, iii. 90. Heywood, John, i. 98. Harpsfield, i. 153. Hays, iv. 560. Heidegger, i. 290. John, King, i. 252. James I., iv. Jacob, Giles, iii. 149. Janssen, a gamester, iv. 326. Jones, Inigo, iii. Johnston, iv. 112. Knight, Robert, iv. Kuster, iv. 237. Kirkall, ii. 160. Lintot, Bernard, i. 40; ii. 53. Laws, William, ii. 413. Log, King, i. lin. ult. Locke, iii. 215. More, James, ii. 50, &c.
Morris, Bezaleel, ii. 168. Mist, Nathaniel, i. 208. Milbourn, Luke, ii. Mahomet, iii. 97. Mears, William, ii. 28. Motteux, Peter, ii. Monks, iii. 52. Mandevil, ii. 414. Morgan, ibid. Montalto, iv. 105. Mummius, an antiquary, iv. Milton, iii. 216. Murray, iv. Newcastle, Duchess of, i. Nonjuror, i. 253. Newton, iii. 216. Ogilby, John, i. 141, 328. Oldmixon, John, ii. Ozell, John, i. Ostrogoths, iii. 93. Omar, the Caliph, iii. 81. Owls, i. 271, 290; iii. 54. Owls, Athenian, iv. Osborne, bookseller, ii. 167. Osborne, mother, ii. Prynne, William, i. 103. Philips, Ambrose, i. 326. Paridel, iv. Prior, ii. Popple, iii. 151. Pope, iii. 332. Pulteney, iv. 170. Quarles, Francis, i. 140. Querno, Camillo, ii. 15. Ralph, James, i. Roome, Edward, iii. 152. Ripley, Thomas, iii. Ridpath, George, i. 149. Roper, Abel, ii. 149. Rich, iii. Settle, Elkanah, i. 90, 146; iii. 37. Smedley, Jonathan, ii. 291, &c.
Shadwell, Thomas, i. 22. Scholiasts, iv. Silenus, iv. 492. Sooterkins, i. 126. Swift, i. 19; ii. 116, 138; iii. 331. Shaftesbury, iv. 488. Tate, i. 105, 238. Theobald, or Tibbald, i. 133, 286. Tutchin, John, ii. Toland, John, ii. 212. Tindal, Dr, ii. 492. Taylor, John, the Water-Poet, iii. 19. Thomas, Mrs, ii. 70. Tonson, Jacob, i. 57; ii. 68. Thorold, Sir George, i. 85. Talbot, iv. 168. Vandals, iii. 86. Visigoths, iii. 94. 314
Withers, George, i. 296. Wynkyn de Worde, i. 149 (or 140),
Ward, Edw. i. 34. Webster, ii. Whitfield, ibid. Warner, Thomas, ii. Wilkins, ibid. Welsted, Leonard, ii. 170. Woolston, Thomas, iii. 212. Wormius, iii. 188. Wasse, iv. 237. Walker, Hat-bearer to Bentley. iv. 206, 273. Wren, Sir C., iii. Wyndham, iv. 167. Young, Ed., ii. 116. [9] 'Noble dame a whore:' the sister of Cato, and mother of Brutus. [11] 'Narcissa:' Mrs Oldfield, the actress. [16] 'Atossa:' Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. [48] 'Bubo:' Bubb Doddington, who had just finished a mansion at
Eastbury. See Life. ii. [61] Flings down the cap, and exit. [72] 'Turk:' Ulrick, the Turk. [83] 'Jacob's:' old Jacob Tonson, the publisher of the Metamorphoses. [85] 'Umbra:' intended, it is said, for Ambrose Philips. [90] 'B----:' Britain. [93] 'S----:' Sandys. [98] 'G---r, C---m, B---t:' Lords Gower, Cobham, and Bathurst. [108] 'F----, H---y:' Fox and Henley. [134] Giles Jacob's Lives of Poets, vol. ii. in his Life. [136] Dunciad Dissected, p. 4. [137] Guardian, No. 40. [138] Jacob's Lives, &c. vol. ii. [139] Dunciad Dissected, p. 4. [142] Characters of the Times, p. 45. [143] Female Dunciad, p. ult. [147] Reflections, Critical and Satirical, on a Rhapsody called An Essay
on Criticism. Printed for Bernard Lintot, 8vo. [149] Preface to his Poems, p.18, 53. [150] Spectator, No. 253. [152] Printed 1728, p. 12. [153] Alma, canto 2. [154] In his Essays, vol. i., printed for E. Curll. [155] Censor, vol. ii. n. 33. [158] Ibid, April 3, 1728. [161] In his poems, printed for B. Lintot. [163] In his Poems, and at the end of the Odyssey. Printed for A. Moore, 8vo,
1712. [178] Battle of Poets, folio, p. 15. [180] Cibber's Letter to Mr Pope, p. 9, 12. [184] Remarks on Homer, p. 8, 9. [185] Ibid, p. 8. [186] Character of Mr Pope, p. 7. [187] Ibid, p. G.
[188] Gulliver, p. 886. [189] Cibber's Letter to Mr. Pope, p. 19. [191] The London and Mist's Journals, on his undertaking of the Odyssey. [192] Vide Bossu, Du Poeme Epique, ch. [193] Bossu, chap. 32, &c.
[195] Ver. 45 to 54. 57 to 77. 80. [199] Bossu, chap. Poetic, chap. ix. [200] Cibber's Letter to Mr Pope, pp. 9, 12, 41. Bossu, du Poême
Epique, lib. v. ch. 5. [205] Life, ibid. [206] Life, p. 23, 8vo. [208] Letter to Mr Pope, p. 46. [210] Life, p. 23, 24. [211] Letter, p. 8. [212] Letter, p. 53. [213] Letter, p. 1. [214] Don Quixote, Part ii. book ii. ch. 22. [215] See Life, p. 148. [216] Life, p. 149. [222] pp. 436, 437. 58, 59. [228] Life, p. 6. [231] Life, p. 17. p. 243, 8vo edition. [233] Ovid, of the serpent biting at Orpheus's head. Dunce with an _e_, therefore Dunceiad with
an _e_? One _e_, therefore, in this case is right, and
two _e's_ wrong. Vet_. ii. To say a
man is tossed on land, is much at one with saying, he walks at sea. _Risum teneatis, amici_? Correct it, as I doubt not it ought to be,
_vexatus_.--_Scriblerus_. W_. --Winstanly, Lives of Poets.--P. ; Wynkyn de Worde, his successor, in that of Henry VII. Virgil gives a contrary
character of the voice of this silly bird, in Ecl. ix. Read it, therefore, _adesse strepebat_. Jacob, Lives of Poets, vol. ii., p. 225. Philips, a northern author. Dennis, Rem. pp. 9, 10.--P. Jacob, Lives of Dram. Poets, p. Surely, surely, every man is free
to deserve well of his country.' --John Ozell. See the history of this person,
book iii. He printed some plays, poems, letters, and travels.--P. 'This,' saith Edmund
Curll, 'is a false assertion. Paulus Jovius, Elog. Vir. doct. chap. lxxxii. Strada, in his Prolusions.--P. chap. vi. look, he is stealing my handkerchief!' Adieu, More! He discovered her to
be the publisher, in his Key, p. 11. --Mist's
Journal, June 8. This genius and man of worth, whom an honest mind
should love, is Mr Curll. iii. ver. to be hanged. Jacob, Lives of Poets, vol. ii. She wrote many plays, and a song (says Mr
Jacob, vol. He
edited the 'Flying Post,' and was a detractor of Pope. Key to the Dunc., 3d edit. p.
16. i. This, sir, is the case,
The jest is lost unless he prints his face.' These lines allude to a
thing of his, entitled Night, a Poem. He was wholly illiterate, and knew no language, not even French. See his Autobiography. [366] Of Toland and Tindal, see book ii. ver. See more of him, book iii. v. Scip. Maff., _De Compotationibus Academicis_.--P. Annius, Sir Andrew Fontaine.--P. A sudden bourasque
freed him from the rover, and he got to land with them in his belly. One advised purgations, the other vomits. vol. ii. p. --De la République, chap. x.--P. W.
The former note of 'Bladen is a black man,' is very absurd. Of weaving stockings of the webs of spiders, see the Phil. Thou art to know, reader! Milton himself gave but
ten books, his editor twelve; this author gave four books, his editor
only three. p. 38. p. 8. [459] Milbourn, p. 9. p. 39. [462] Whip and Key, preface. [464] Milbourn, p. 2. p. 35. pp. 22, 192. p. 72. [469] Ibid, p. 78. [470] Ibid, p. 206. p. 19. p. 144, 190. p. 67. [474] Milbourn, p. 192. [476] Whip and Key, preface. [477] Milbourn, p. 105. p. 57. [481] Whip and Key, preface. [482] Milbourn, p. 34. p. 35. p. 14. [500] Supplement to the Profund, preface. [501] Oldmixon, Essay on Criticism, p. 66. [502] Dennis's Remarks, p. 28. [508] Character of Mr P., p. 3. [509] Ibid. [511] Ibid, p. 8. End of Project Gutenberg's Poetical Works of Pope, Vol. II, by Alexander Pope