Rolli the feather to his ear conveys,
Then his nice taste directs our operas:

Bentley his mouth with classic flattery opes,
And the puff'd orator bursts out in tropes.
But Welsted most the poet's healing balm
Strives to extract from his soft, giving palm.

REMARKS.

by his own fault, but from an unhappy communication with another. This note is half Mr. Theobald, half Scribl.

Ver. 203. Paolo Antonio Rolli,] An Italian poet and writer of many operas in that language, which, partly by the help of his genius, prevailed in England near twenty years. He taught Italian to some fine gentlemen, who affected to direct the operas.

Ver. 205. Bentley his mouth, &c.] Not spoken of the famous Dr. Richard Bentley, but of one Tho. Bentley, a small critic, who aped his uncle in a little Horace. The great one was intended to be dedicated to the lord Halifax, but (on a change of the ministry) was given to the earl of Oxford for which reason the little one was dedicated to his son the lord Harley.

Ver. 207. Welsted.] Leonard Welsted, author of the Triumvirate, or a Letter in Verse from Palmon to Celia at Bath, which was meant for a satire on Mr. P. and some of his friends about the year 1718. He writ other things which we cannot remember. Smedley, in his Metamorphosis of Scriblerus, mentions one, the Hymn of a Gentleman to his Creator: and there was another, in praise either of a Cellar or a Garret. L. W. characterized in the Пsps Baous, or the Art of Sinking, as a didapper, and after as an eel, is said to be this person, by Dennis, Daily Journal of May 11, 1728. He was also characterized under another animal, a mole, by the author of the ensuing simile, which was handed about at the same time:

'Dear Welsted, mark, in dirty hole
That painful animal, a mole:
Above ground never born to grow;
What mighty stir it keeps below!
To make a mole-hill all his strife!
It digs, pokes, undermines for life.
How proud a little dirt to spread;
Conscious of nothing o'er its head!
Till, labouring on, for want of eyes,
It blunders into light and dies.'

You have him again in book iii. ver. 160.

Unlucky Welsted! thy unfeeling master,

The more thou ticklest, gripes his fist the faster. 210
While thus each hand promotes the pleasing pain,
And quick sensations skip from vein to vein ;

A youth unknown to Phœbus, in despair,
Puts his last refuge all in Heaven and prayer.
What force have pious vows! the queen of love
Her sister sends, her votaress, from above;

As, taught by Venus, Paris learn'd the art
To touch Achilles' only tender part;

Secure, through her, the noble prize to carry,
He marches off, his grace's secretary.

220

'Now turn to different sports,' the goddess cries, 'And learn, my sons, the wondrous power of noise. To move, to raise, to ravish every heart,

With Shakspeare's nature, or with Jonson's art,
Let others aim: 'Tis yours to shake the soul
With thunder rumbling from the mustard-bowl,
With horns and trumpets now to madness swell,
Now sink in sorrows with the tolling bell:
Such happy arts attention can command,
When fancy flags, and sense is at a stand.
Improve we these. Three cat-calls be the bribe

230

Of him, whose chattering shames the monkey tribe : And his this drum, whose hoarse heroic bass Drowns the loud clarion of the braying ass."

Now thousand tongues are heard in one loud din, The monkey-mimics rush discordant in : 'Twas chattering, grinning, mouthing, jabbering all, And noise and Norton, brangling and Breval,

REMARKS.

Ver. 226. With thunder rumbling from the mustardbowl.] The old way of making thunder and mustard were the same but since, it is more advantageously performed by troughs of wood with stops in them. Whether Mr. Dennis was the inventor of that improvement, I know not; but it is certain, that being once at a tragedy of a new author, he fell into a great passion at hearing some, and cried, "Sdeath' that is my thunder.'

Lennis and dissonance, and captious art,
And snip-snap short, and interruption smart ;
And demonstration thin, and theses thick,
And major, minor, and conclusion quick.

240

'Hold,' cried the queen, a cat-call each shall win; Equal your merits! equal is your din!

But that this well-disputed game may end,

250

Sound forth, my brayers, and the welkin rend.'
As when the long-ear'd milky mothers wait
At some sick miser's triple-bolted gate,
For their defrauded, absent foals they make
A moan so loud, that all the guild awake;
Sore sighs sir Gilbert, starting at the bray,
From dreams of millions, and three groats to pay :
So swells each wind-pipe: ass intones to ass,
Harmonic twang! of leather, horn, and brass;
Such as from labouring lungs the enthusiast blows,
High sounds, attemper'd to the vocal nose;
Or such as bellow from the deep divine;
There, Webster! peal'd thy voice, and Whitfield! thine.
But far o'er all sonorous Blackmore's strain;
Walls, steeples, skies, bray back to him again.
In Tottenham fields, the brethren, with amaze,
Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze !
Long Chancery-lane retentive rolls the sound,
And courts to courts return it round and round;

REMARKS.

260

Ver. 238. Norton,] See ver. 417.-J. Durant Breval, author of a very extraordinary book of travels, and some poems. See before, note on ver. 126.

Ver. 258. Webster-and Whitfield] The one the writer of a newspaper called the Weekly Miscellany, the other a field-preacher. This thought the only means of advancing religion was by the new-birth of spiritual madness; that by the old death of fire and faggot; and therefore they agreed in this, though in no other earthly thing, to abuse all the sober clergy. From the small success of these two extraordinary persons, we may learn how little hurtful bigotry and enthusiasm are, while the civil magistrate prudently forbeara to lend his power to the one, in order to the employing it against the other.

Ver 263. Long Chancery-lanc] The place where the

Thames wafts it thence to Rufus' roaring hall,
And Hungerford re-echoes bawl for bawl.
All hail him victor in both gifts of song,
Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long.

REMARKS.

offices of chancery are kept. The long detention of clients in that court, and the difficulty of getting out, is humourously alegorized in these lines.

Ver. 268. Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long.] A just character of sir Richard Blackmore, knight, who (as Mr. Dryden expresseth it)

'Writ to the rumbling of his coach's wheels;'

and whose indefatigable muse produced no less than six epic poems; Prince and King Arthur, twenty books; Eliza, ten; Alfred, twelve; the Redeemer, six; besides Job, in folio; the whole book of Psalms; the Creation, seven books; Nature of Man, three books; and many more. It is in this sense he is styled afterwards the everlasting Blackmore. Notwithstanding all which, Mr. Gildon seems assured, that this admirable author did not think himself upon the same foot with Homer.'-Comp. Art of Poetry, vol. i. p. 108.

But how different is the judgment of the author of Characters of the Times? p. 25, who says, 'Sir R. Blackmore is unfortunate in happening to mistake his proper talents; and that he has not for many years been so much as named, or even thought of among writers.' Even Mr. Dennis differs greatly from his friend Mr. Gildon: 'Blackmore's action,' saith he, has neither unity, nor integrity, nor morality, nor universality; and consequently he can have no fable, and no heroic poem: his narration is neither probable, delightful, nor wonderful; his characters have none of the necessary qualifications; the things contained in his narration are neither in their own nature delightful, nor numerous enough, nor rightly disposed, nor surprising, nor pathetic.' Nay, he proceeds so far as to say sir Richard has no genius; first laying down, that 'genius is caused by a furious joy and pride of soul, on the conception of an extraordinary hint. Many men,' says he, 'have their hints, without those motions of fury and pride of soul, because they want fire enough to agitate their spirits; and these we call cold writers. Others who have a great deal of fire, but have not excellent organs, feel the fore-mentioned motions, without the extraordinary hints; and these we call fustian writers.' But he declares, 'that sir Richard had neither the hints nor the motions.'-Remarks on Pr. Arth. octavo, 1696. Preface. This gentleman in his first works abused the character of Mr. Dryden; and in his last, of Mr. Pope, accusing him in very high and sober terms of profaneness and immorality

This labour past, by Bridewell all descend
(As morning-prayers and flagellation end,)
To where Fleet-ditch with disemboguing streams
Rolls the large tribute of dead dogs to Thames,
The king of dykes! than whom no sluice of mud
With deeper sable blots the silver flood.

270

'Here strip, my children, here at once leap in, Here prove who best can dash through thick and thin; And who the most in love of dirt excel,

Or dark dexterity of groping well

REMARKS.

(Essay on Polite Writing, vol. ii. p. 270) on a mere report from Edm. Curll, that he was author of a travestie on the first Psalm. Mr. Dennis took up the same report, but with the addition of what sir Richard had neglected, an argument to prove it; which being very curious, we shall bere transcribe. 'It was he who burlesqued the Psalms of David. It is apparent to me that psalm was burlesqued by a popish rhymester. Let rhyming persons who have been brought up protestants be otherwise what they will, let them be rakes, let them be scoundrels, let them be atheists, yet education has made an invincible impression on them in behalf of the sacred writings. But a popish rhymester has been brought up with a contempt for those sacred writings; now show me another popish rhymester but he.' This manner of argumentation is usual with Mr. Dennis; he has employ ed the same against sir Richard himself, in a like charge of impiety and irreligion. 'All Mr. Blackmore's celestial machines, as they cannot be defended so much as by common received opinion, so are they directly contrary to the doctrine of the church of England; for the visible descent of an angel must be a miracle. Now it is the doctrine of the church of England that miracles had ceased a long time before prince Arthur came into the world. Now if the doctrine of the church of England be true, as we are obliged to believe, then are all the celestial machines in Prince Arthur unsufferable, as wanting not only human, but divine probability. But if the machines are sufferable, that is, if they have so much as divine probability, then it follows of necessity that the doctrine of the church is false. So I leave it to every impartial clergyman to consider,' &c. Preface to the Remarks on Prince Arthur.

Ver. 270. (As morning prayers and flagellation end.)] It is between eleven and twelve in the morning, after church service, that the criminals are whipped in Bridewell. This is to mark punctually the time of the day: Homer does it by the circumstance of the judges rising frem court, or of VOL. II.

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