75

The young, the old, who feel her inward fway,
One inftinct feizes, and tranfports away.
None need a guide, by fure Attraction led,
And ftrong impulfive gravity of Head:
None want a place, for all their Centre found,
Hung to the Goddefs, and coher'd around.
Not clofer, orb in orb, conglob'd are seen
The buzzing Bees about their dusky Queen.

The gath'ring number, as it moves along,
Involves a vaft involuntary throng,

Who gently drawn, and struggling less and lefs,
Roll in her Vortex, and her pow'r confefs.

Not thofe alone who paffive own her laws,

But who, weak rebels, more advance her cause.
Whate'er of dunce in College or in Town
Sneers at another, in toupee or gown;
Whate'er of mungril no one clafs admits,
A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.

NOTES.

80

85

90

VER. 75. None need a guide,-None want a place,] The fons of Dulness want no inftructors in ftudy, nor guides in life: They are their own masters in all Sciences, and their own Heralds and Introducers into all places.

- VER. 76 to 101.] It ought to be observed that here are three claffes in this affembly. The first of men absolutely and avowedly dull, who naturally adhere to the Goddefs, and are imaged in the fimile of the Bees about their Queen. The fecond involuntarily drawn to her, tho' not caring to own her influence; from 81 to 90. The third of fuch, as tho' not members of her state, yet advance her service by flattering Dulness, cultivating miftaken talents, patronizing vile fcriblers, difconraging liv

Nor absent they, no members of her state,
Who pay her homage in her fons, the Great;
Who false to Phoebus, bow the knee to Baal;
Or impious, preach his Word without a call.
Patrons, who sneak from living worth to dead,
With-hold the penfion, and fet up the head;
Or veft dull Flatt'ry in the facred Gown ;
Or give from fool to fool the Laurel crown.
And (laft and worst) with all the cant of wit,
Without the foul, the Mufe's Hypocrite.

95

100

There march the bard and blockhead, fide by fide, Who rhym'd for hire, and patroniz'd for pride, Narciffus, prais'd with all a Parfon's pow'r, Look'd a white Lilly funk beneath a show'r.

NOTES.

ing merit, or fetting up for wits and Men of tafte in arts they understand not; from 91 to 101.

VER. 93. falfe to Phoebus.] Spoken of the ancient and true Phœbus; not the French Phœbus, who hath no chosen Priests or Poets, but equally infpires any man that pleaseth to fing or preach.

VER. 99, 100.

And (laft and worst) with all the cant of wit,
Without the foul, the Mufe's Hypocrite.]

SCRIBL.

In this divifion are reckoned up 1. The Idolizers of Dulnefs in the Great-2. Ill Judges,-3. Ill Writers,-4. Ill Patrons. But the laft and worst, as he justly calls him, is the Mufe's Hypocrite, who is, as it were, the Epitome of of them all. He who thinks the only end of poetry is to amufe, and the only bufinefs of the poet to be witty; and confequently who cultivates only fuch trifling talents in himself, and encourages only fuch in others.

There mov'd Montalto with fuperior air;

His ftretch'd-out arm difplay'd a Volume fair;
Courtiers and Patriots in two ranks divide,

105

Thro' both he pass'd, and bow'd from fide to fide:
But as in graceful act, with awful eye

Compos'd he flood, bold Benfon thrust him by: 110
On two unequal crutches propt he came,
Milton's on this, on that one Johnston's name.
The decent Knight retir'd with sober rage,
Withdrew his hand, and clos'd the pompous page.
But (happy for him as the times went then)
Appear'd Apollo's May'r and Aldermen,

VER. 114.

VARIATIONS.

115

"What? no refpect, he cry'd, for SHAKESPEAR'S page?"

NOTES.

VER. 108.-bow'd from fide to fide:] As being of no one party.

VER. 110. bold Benson] This man endeavoured to raise himself to Fame by erecting monuments, ftriking coins, fetting up heads, and procuring tranflations, of Milton; and afterwards by as great paffion for Arthur Johnfton, a Scotch phyfician's Verfion of the Pfalms, of which he printed many fine Editions. See more of him, Book iii. 325.

VER. 113. The decent Knight.] An eminent perfon, who was about to publish a very pompous Edition of a great Author, at his own expence

VER. 115, &c. Thefe four lines were printed in a feparate leaf by Mr. Pope in the laft edition, which he himfelf gave of the Dunciad, with directions to the printer, to put this leaf into its place as foon as Sir T. H's Shakespear hould be published.

B.

On whom three hundred gold-capt youths await, To lug the pond'rous volume off in ftate.

120

When Dulness, smiling-" Thus revive the Wits! But murder first, and mince them all to bits As erft Medea (cruel, fo to fave!)

A new Edition of old Æfon gave;

;

Let ftandard-Authors, thus, like trophies born,
Appear more glorious as more hack'd and torn.
And you, my Critics! in the chequer'd fhade,
125
Admire new light thro' holes yourselves have made.
Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone,
A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own;

IMITATIONS.

VER. 126. Admire new light, &c.]

The Soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light, through chinks that time has made:

NOTES.

Waller

VER. 119. "Thus revive, &c.] The Goddess applauds the practice of tacking the obfcure names of Perfons not eminent in any branch of learning, to those of the moft diftinguished Writers; either by printing Editions of their works with impertinent alterations of their Text, as in the former inftances; or by fetting up Monuments difgraced with their own vile names and inscriptions, as in the latter.

VER. 122. old Efon] Of whom Ovid (very applicable to these restored authors)

Æfon miratur,

Diffimilemque animum subiit

VER. 128. A Page, a Grave,] For what less than a Grave can be granted to a dead author? or what less than a Page can be allow'd a living one?

VOL. V.

M

But spread, my fons, your glory thin or thick,
On paffive paper, or on folid brick.

So by each Bard an Alderman shall fit,
A heavy Lord shall hang at. ev'ry Wit,
NOTES.

130

VER. 128. A Page, Pagina, not Pediffequus. A Page of a Book, not a Servant, Follower, or Attendant; no Poet having had a Page fince the Death of Mr. Thomas Durfey. SCRIBL. VER. 131. So by each Bard an Alderman, &t.] Vide the Tombs of the Poets, Editio Weftmonafterienfis.

Ibid.-an Alderman shall fit,] Alluding to the monument erected for Butler by Alderman Barber.

VER. 132. A heavy Lord fhall hang at ev'ry Wit] How unnatural an Image! and how ill fupported! Had it been, A heavy Wit shall hang at ev'ry Lord,

fomething might have been faid, in an Age fo well diftin-. guished for difcerning Patrons. For LORD, then, read LOAD; that is, of Debts here, and of Commentaries hereafter. To this purpose, confpicuous is the case of the poor Author of Hudibras, whofe body, long fince weigh'd down to the grave by a load of debts, has lately had a more unmerciful load of Commentaries laid upon his Spirit; wherein the Editor has atchieved more than Virgil himself, when he turned Critic, could boaft of, which was no more than, that he had picked gold out of another man's dung; whereas he has picked it out of his SCRIBL.

own.

Ariftarchus thinks the common reading, right: and that the Author himself had been ftruggling with, and just fhaken off this incumbrance, when he wrote the following Epigram:

My Lord complains, that Pope, stark mad with gardens,
Has lopt three trees the value of three farthings:
But he's my neighbour, cries the peer polite,
And if he'll vifit me, I'll wave my right.