More glorious yet, from barbarous hands to keep, The goddess, smiling seem'd to give consent; Then thick as locusts blackening all the ground, The head that turns at superlunar things, 380 Poised with a tail, may steer on Wilkins' wings. A tribe with weeds and shells fantastic crown'd, But far the foremost, two, with earnest zeal, 400 'Be that my task,' replies a gloomy clerk, The first thus open'd: Hear thy suppliant's call, And lo the wretch! whose vile, whose insect lust 410 Or that bright image to our fancy draw, The accused stood forth,and thus address'd the queen: 420 Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus snores. Of all the enamell'd race, whose silvery wing Waves to the tepid zephyrs of the spring, Or swims along the fluid atmosphere, Once brightest shined this child of heat and air. I meddle, goddess! only in my sphere. And to excuse it, need but shew the prize; Whose spoils this paper offers to your eye, REMARKS. 460 480 490 Ver. 452. Wilkins' wings.] One of the first projectors of the Royal Society, who, among many enlarged and useful notions, entertained the extravagant hope of a possibility to fly to the moon; which has put some volatile geniuses upon making wings for that purpose. Ver. 462. When moral evidence shall quite decay,] 430 Alluding to a ridiculous and absurd way of some ma thematicians, in calculating the gradual decay of moral evidence by mathematical proportions: according to which calculation, in about fifty years it will be no longer probable that Julius Cæsar was in Gaul, or died in the senate-house. See Craig's Theologiæ Christianæ Principia Mathematica. But, as it seems evident, that My sons!' she answer'd, both have done your parts: facts of a thousand years old, for instance, are now Live happy both, and long promote our arts. REMARKS. as probable as they were five hundred years ago; it is plain, that if in fifty more they quite disappear, it must 440 be owing, not to their arguments, but to the extraordinary power of our goddess; for whose help, therefore, they have reason to pray. Ver. 492. Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus snores.] It cannot be denied but that this fine stroke of satire against atheism was well intended. But how must the reader smile at our author's officious zeal, when he is told, that at the time this was written, you might as soon have found a wolf in England as an atheist? The truth is, the whole species was exterminated. There is a 450 trifling difference, indeed, concerning the author of the achievement. Some, as Dr. Ashenhurst, gave it to Bentley's Boylean Lectures. And he so well convinced that great man of the truth, that wherever afterwards he found atheist, he always read it A theist. But, in spite of a claim so well made out, others gave the honour of this exploit to a later Boylean lecturer. A judicious apologist for Dr. Clarke against Mr. Whiston, says, with no less elegance than positiveness of expression, It is a most certain truth, that the Demonstration of the Being and Attributes of God, has extirpated and banished atheism out of the Christian world, p. 18. It is much to be lamented, that the clearest truths have still their dark side. Here we see it becomes a doubt which of the two Hercules' was the monster-queller. But what of that? Since the thing is done, and the proof of it so certain, there is no occasion for so nice a canvassing of circumstances. Scribl. Ver. 387. Witness great Ammon!] Jupiter Ammon is called to witness, as the father of Alexander, to whom those kings succeeded in the division of the Macedonian empire, and whose horns they wore on their medals. Ver. 394. Douglas] A physician of great learning and no less taste; above all, curious in what related to Horace, of whom he collected every edition, translation, and comment, to the number of several hundred volumes. Ver. 409. and named it Caroline:] It is a compliment which the florists usually pay to princes and great persons, to give their names to the most curious flowers of their raising some have been very jealous of vindicating this honour, but none more than that ambitious gardener, at Hammersmith, who caused his favourite to be painted on his sign, with this inscription: This is my Queen Caroline Ver. 492. Silenus.] Silenus was an Epicurean philosopher, as appears from Virgil, Eclog. vi. where he sings the principles of that philosophy in his drink. Roused at his name up rose the boway sire, With that, a wizard old his cup extends; REMARKS. But she, good goddess, sent to every child Kind self-conceit to some her glass applies, Others the syren sisters warble round, 510 Why all your toils? your sons have learn'd to sing. On somne, a priest succinct in amice white REMARKS. other to Dulness; which makes some stupid, others impudent, gives self-conceit to some, upon the fiatteries of their dependants, presents the false colours of interest to others, and busies, or amuses the rest with idle pleasures or sensuality, till they become easy under any infamy. Each of which species is here shadowed under allegorical persons. Ver. 501. First slave to words, &c.] A recapitulation of the whole course of modern education described in this book, which confines youth to the study of words only in schools; subjects them to the authority of systems in the universities; and deludes them with the names of party distinctions in the world; all equally. concurring to narrow the understanding, and establish slavery and error in literature, philosophy, and politics. The whole finished in modern free-thinking: the completion of whatever is vain, wrong, and destructive to the happiness of mankind; as it establishes self-love for the sole principle of action. Ver. 506. smiled on by a queen!] i. e. This queen or goddess of Dulness. Ver. 517. With that, a wizard old, &c.] Here beginneth the celebration of the greater mysteries of the goddess, which the poet, in his invocation, ver. 5, promised to sing. Ver. 518-forgets his former friends.] Surely there little needed the force of charms or magic to set aside a useless friendship. For of all the accommodations of fashionable life, as there are none more reputable, so there are none of so little charge as friendship. It fills up the void of life with a name of dignity and respect: and at the same time is ready to give place to every passion that offers to dispute possession with it. Scribl. Ver. 523, 524. Lost is his God, his country-And nothing left but homage to a king!] So strange as this must seem to a mere English reader, the famous Mons. de la Bruyere declares it to be the character of every good subject in a monarchy: Where,' says he, 'there is no such thing as love of our country, the interest, the glory, and service of the prince, supply its place.' De la Republique, chap. x. Of this duty another celebrated French author speaks indeed a little more disrespectfully; which for that reason we shall not translate, but give in his own words: L'amour de la patrie, le grand motif des prémiers heros, n'est plus regardé que comme une chimêre; l'idée du service du roi, etendue jusqu'à l'oubli de tout autre principe, tient lieu de ce qu'on appelloit autrefois grandeur d'ame et fidélité.'-Boulainvilliers Hist. des Anciens Parlements de France, &c. Ver. 528, still keep the human shape.] The effects of the Magus's cup, by which is allegorized a total corruption of heart, are just contrary to that of Circe, which only represents the sudden plunging into pleasures. Hers, therefore, took away the shape, and left the human mind; his takes away the mind, and leaves the human shape. Ver. 529. But she, good goddess, &c.] The only comfort people can receive, must be owing in some shape or Ver. 532. Cibberian forehead, or Cimmerian gloom.] e. she communicates to them of her own virtue, or of her royal colleagues. The Cibberian forehead being to fit them for self-conceit, self-interest, &c. and the Cimmerian glooin, for the pleasures of opera and the table. Scribl. Ver. 553. The board with specious miracles he loads, &c.] Scriblerus seems at a loss in this place. Speciosa miracula (says he) according to Horace, were the monstrous fables of the Cyclops, Læstrygons, Scylla, &c. What relation have these to the transformation of hares into larks, or of pigeons into toads? I shall tell thee. The Læstrygons spitted men upon spears as we do larks upon skewers; and the fair pigeon turned to a toad, is similar to the fair virgin Scylla ending in a filthy beast. But here is the difficulty, why pigeons in so shocking a shape should be brought to a table. Hares, indeed, might be cut into larks, at a second dressing, out of frugality: yet that seems no probable motive, when we consider the extravagance before mentioned, of dissolving whole oxen and boars into a small vial of jelly; nay, it is expressly said, that all flesh is nothing in his sight. I have searched in Apicius, Pliny, and the feast of Trimalchio, in vain; I can only resolve it into some mysterious superstitious rite, as it is said to be done by a priest, and soon after called a sacrifice, attended (as all ancient sacrifices were) with libation and song. Scribl. This good scholiast, not being acquainted with modern luxury, was ignorant that these were only the miracles of French cookery, and that particularly pigeons en crapeau were a common dish. Ver. 556. Seve and verdeur] French terms relating Déspreaux. St. Evremont has a very pathetic letter to a nobleman in disgrace, advising him to seek comfort in a good table, and particularly to be attentive to these qualitics in his champaigne. Ver. 560. Bladen-Hays] Names of gamesters. Bladen is a black man. Robert Knight, cashier of the SouthSea Company, who fled from England in 1720 (afterwards pardoned in 1742). These lived with the utmost magnificence at Paris, and kept open tables frequented Knight lifts the head: for what are crowds undone, Gone every blush, and silent all reproach, Next, bidding all draw near on bended knees Some deep free-masons, join the silent race Then blessing all, Go, children of my care, REMARKS. The cap 570 A hundred souls of turkeys in a pie; The sturdy 'squire to Gallic masters stoop, 500 And make one mighty Dunciad of the land l' by persons of the first quality in England, and even by princes of the blood of France. Ibid. Bladen, &c.] The former note of Bladen is a black man,' is very absurd. The manuscript here is partly obliterated, and doubtless could only have been, Wash blackmoors white, alluding to a known proverb. Scribl. Ver. 567. Her children first of more distinguish'd sort, Who study Shakspeare at the inns of court,] Ill would that scholiast discharge his duty, who should neglect to honour those whom Dulness has distinguished; or suffer them to lie forgotten, when their rare modesty would have left them nameless. Let us not, therefore, overlook the services which have been done her cause, by one Mr. Thomas Edwards, a gentleman, as he is pleased to call himself, of Lincoln's-inn; but in reality, a gentleman only of the Dunciad; or, to speak him better, in the plain language of our honest ancestors to such mushrooms, a gentleman of the last edition: who, nobly eluding the solicitude of his careful father, very early retained himself in the cause of Dulness against Shakspeare, and with the wit and learning of his ancestor Tom Thimble in the Rehearsal, and with the air of good nature and politeness of Caliban in the Tempest, hath now happily finished the Dunce's progress, in personal abuse. For a libeller is nothing but a Grub-street critic run to seed. Lamentable is the Dulness of these gentlemen of the Dunciad. This Fungoso and his friends, who are all gentlemen, have exclaimed much against us for reflecting his birth, in the words, a gentleman of the last edition,' which we hereby declare concern not his birth, but his adoption only; and mean no more than that he is become a gentleman of the last edition of the Dunciad. Since gentlemen, then, are so captious, we think it proper to declare, that Mr. Thomas Thimble, who is here said to be Mr. Thomas Edward's ancestor, is only related to him by the Muse's side. Scribl. This tribe of men, which Scriblerus has here so well exemplified, our poet hath elsewhere admirably characterized in that happy line, A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead. For the satire extends much farther than to the person who occasioned it, and takes in the whole species of those on whom a good education (to fit them for some useful and learned profession) has been bestowed in vain. That worthless band Of ever-listless loiterers, that attend No cause, no trust, no duty, and no friend; who, with an understanding too dissipated and futile for the offices of civil life; and a heart too lumpish, narrow, and contracted for those of social, become fit for nothing; and so turn wits and critics, where sense and civility are neither required nor expected. Ver. 571. Some, deep free-masons, join the silent race.] The poet all along expresses a very particular concern for this silent race. He has here provided, that in case they will not waken or open (as was before proposed) to a humming-bird or a cockle, yet at worst they may be made free-masons; where taciturnity is the only essential qualification, as it was the chief of the disciples of Pythagoras. REMARKS. 590 600 Ver. 576. A Gregorian, one a Gormogon,] A sort of lay-brothers, slips from the root of the free-masons Ver. 584. each privilege your own, &c.] This speech of Dulness to her sons at parting, may possibly fall short of the reader's expectation; who may imagine the goddess might give them a charge of more consequence, and, from such a theory as is before delivered, incite them to the practice of something more extraordinary, than to personate running footmen, jockeys, stagecoachmen, &c. But if it be well-considered, that whatever inclination they might have to do mischief, her sons are generally rendered harmless by their inability; and that it is the common effect of Dulness (even in her greatest efforts) to defeat her own design; the poet, I am, persuaded, will be justified, and it will be allowed that these worthy persons, in their several ranks, do as much as can be expected from them. Ver. 585. The cap and switch, &c.] The goddess's political balance of favour, in the distribution of her rewards, deserves our notice. It consists of joining with those honours claimed by birth and high place, others more adapted to the genius and talents of the candidates. And thus her great forerunner, John of Leyden, king of Munster, entered on his government, by making his ancient friend and companion, Knipperdolling, general of his horse, and hanginan. And had but fortune seconded his great schemes of reformation, it is said he would have established his whole household_on the same reasonable footing. Scribl Ver. 590. Arachne's subtile line ;] This is one of the most ingenious employments assigned, and therefore recommnended only to peers of learning. Of weaving stockings of the webs of spiders, see the Phil. Trans. Ver. 591. The judge to dance his brother sergeant call ;] Alluding perhaps to that ancient and solemn dance, entitlea, A call of sergeants. Ver. 598. Teach kings to fiddle,] An ancient amusement of sovereign princes (viz.) Achilles, Alexander, Nero; though despised by Themistocles, who was a republican-Make senates dance, either after their prince, or to Pointoise, or Siberia. Ver. 606. What mortal can resist the yawn of gods?] the action, where the great mother composes all, in the This verse is truly Homerical; as is the conclusion of same manner as Minerva at the period of the Odyssey. It may, indeed, seem a very singular epitasis of a poem, to end as this does, with a great yawn; but we must consider it as the yawn of a god, and of powerful effects. It is not out of nature, most long and grave councils concluding in this very manner: nor without authority, the incomparable Spenser having ended one of the most considerable of his works with a roar; but then it is the roar of a lion, the effects thereof are described as the catastrophe of the poem. Ver. 607. Churches and chapels, &c.] The progress of the yawn is judicious, natural, and worthy to be noted. First it seizeth the churches and caapels, then catcheth the schools, where, though the boys be unwilling to sleep, the masters are not. Next Westminster-hall, much more hard, indeed, to subdue, and not totally put to silence even by the goddess. Then the convocation, which though extremely desirous to speak, yet cannot. Even the house of commons, justly called the sense of 610 Then catch'd the schools; the Hall scarce kept awake; Wide, and more wide, it spread o'er all the realm The vapour mild o'er each committee crept; O muse! relate (for you can tell alone, Whose heads she partly, whose completely bless'd 620 In vain, in vain, the all-composing hour Resistless falls! the muse obeys the power. She comes! she comes the sable throne behold Of night primeval, and of Chaos old! Before her, fancy's gilded clouds decay, And all its varying rainbows die away. Wit shoots in vain his momentary fires, The meteor drops, and in a flash expires. As one by one, at dread Medea's strain, The sickening stars fade off the ethereal plain; As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand oppress'd, Closed one by one to everlasting rest; Thus at her felt approach, and secret might, Art after art goes out, and all is night: See skulking truth to her old cavern fled, Mountains of casuistry heap'd o'er her head! Till drown'd was sense, and shame, and right, and Philosophy, that lean'd on Heaven before, the nation, is lost (that is to say suspended) during the yawn; (far be it from our author to suggest it could be lost any longer!) but it spreadeth at large over all the rest of the kingdom to such a degree, that Palinurus himself (though as incapable of sleeping as Jupiter) yet noddeth for a moment; the effect of which, though ever so momentary, could not but cause some relaxation, for the time, in all public affairs. Scribl. Ver. 610. The convocation gaped, but could not speak;] Implying a great desire so to do, as the learned scholiast on the place rightly observes. Therefore, beware, reader, lest thou take this gape for a yawn, which is attended with no desire but to go to rest, by no means the disposition of the convocation; whose melancholy case in short is this: she was, as is reported, infected with the general influence of the goddess: and while she was yawning carelessly at her ease, a wanton courtier took her at advantage, and in the very nick clapped a gag into her chops. Well, therefore, may we know her meaning by her gaping; and this distressful posture our poet here describes, just as she stands at this day, a sad example of the effects of Dulness and Malice, unchecked and despised. Bentl. Ver. 615, 618. These verses were written many years ago, and may be found in the state poems of that time. So that Scriblerus is mistaken, or whoever else have imagined this poem of a fresher date. Ver. 620. Wits have short memories,) This seems to be the reason why the poets, when they give us a catalogue, constantly call for help on the muses, who as the daughters of memory, are obliged not to forget any thing. So Homer, Iliad B. Πληθὴν δ ̓ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδ ̓ ὀνομήνω, And Virgil, Æn. VII. Et meministis enim, divæ, et memorare potestis: Ad nos vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura. But our poet had yet another reason for putting this task upon the muse, that, all besides being asleep, she only could relate what passed. Scribl. Ver. 624. The venal quiet, and, &c.) It were a problem worthy the solution of Mr. Ralph and his patron, who had lights that we know nothing of, which required the greatest effort of our goddess's power, to entrance the dull, or to quiet the venal. For though the venal may be more unruly than the dull, yet, on the other hand, it demands a much greater expense of her virtue to entrance than barely to quiet. Scribl. Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more. In vain they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die, REMARKS. 630 610 650 Here the Ver. 629. She comes she comes! &c.) muse, like Jove's eagle, after a sudden stoop at ignoble game, soareth again to the skies. As prophecy hath ever been one of the chief provinces of poesy, our poet here foretels from what we feel, what we are to fear; and, in the style of other prophets, hath used the future tense for the preterit; since what he says shall be, is already to be seen, in the writings of some even of our most adored authors, in divinity, philosophy, physics, metaphysics, &c. who are too good, indeed, to be named in such company. Ibid. The sable throne behold) The sable thrones of Night and Chaos, here represented as advancing to extinguish the light of the sciences, in the first place blot out the colours of fancy, and damp the fire of wit, before they proceed to their work. Ver. 641. Truth to her old cavern fled,) Alluding to the saying of Democritus, that Truth lay at the bottom of a deep well, from whence he had drawn her;' though Butler says, 'He first put her in, before he drew her out.' Blushing as well at the memory of the past overflow of Ver. 649. Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,) Dulness, when the barbarous learning of so many ages was wholly employed in corrupting the simplicity, and defiling the purity of religion, as at the view of these her false supports in the present; of which it would be endless to recount the particulars. However, amidst the extinction of all other lights, she is said only to withdraw hers! as hers alone in its own nature is unextinguishable and eternal. Ver. 650. And unawares morality expires.] It appears from hence that our poet was of very different sentiments from the author of the Characteristics, who has written a formal treatise on virtue, to prove it not only real but durable, without the support of religion. The word Unawares alludes to the confidence of those men, who suppose that morality would flourish best without it, and consequently to the surprise such would be in (if any such there are) who, indeed, love virtue, and yet do all they can to root out the religion of their country THE END |