Another (for in all what one can shine?)
Explains the seve and verdeur of the vine.
What cannot copious sacrifice atone >
Thy treufles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne ?
With French libation, and Italian strain,
Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain. 560
Knight lifts the head: for what are crowds undone,
To three essential partridges in one?
Gone every blush, and silent all reproach,
Contending princes mount them in their coach.
Next, bidding all draw near on bended knees,
The queen confers her titles and degrees.
Her children first of more distinguish'd sort,
Who study Shakespeare at the inns of court,

REMARKS.

REMARKS.

reality, a gentleman only of the Dunciad; or, to speak him better, in the plain language of our ending in a filthy beast. But here is the difficulty, honest ancestors to such mushrooms, a gentleman why pigeons in so shocking a shape should be of the last edition: who nobly eluding the solicibrought to a table. Hares indeed might be cut tude of his careful father, very early retained into larks at a second dressing, out of frugality: himself in the cause of Dulness against Shakeyet that seems no probable motive, when we con- speare, and with the wit and learning of his ansider the extravagance before-mentioned, of dis- cestor Tom Thimble in the Rehearsal, and with solving whole oxen and boars into a small vial of the air of good nature and politeness of Caliban in jelly; nay it is expressly said, that all flesh is the Tempest, hath now happily finished the nothing in his sight. I have searched in Apicius, Dunce's progress, in personal abuse. For a libelPliny, and the feast of Trimalchio, in vain; Iler is nothing but a Grub-street critic run to can only resolve it into some mysterious superstitious rite, as it is said so be done by a priest, and soon after called a sacrifice, attended (as all ancient sacrifices were)with libation and song.-Seribl. 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 to wines, which signify their flavour and poignancy.

Et je gagerois que chez le commandeur,
Villandri priseroit sa seve et sa verdeur.

Despreaux.

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 the Dunciad. Since gentlernen, then, are so captious, we think it proper to declare that Mr. Thomas Thimble, who is here said to be Mr. Thomas Edwards's ancestor, is only related to him by the Muse's side.--Scribl.

This tribe of men, which Scriblerus has bere so well exemplified, our poet hath elsewhere ad

St. Evremont has a very pathetic letter to a noble-inirably characterized in that happy line,
man in disgrace, advising him to seek comfort in
a good table, and particularly to be attentive to
these qualities in his chainpaigne.

Ver. 560. Bladen-Hays] Names of gamesters. Bladen is a black man. Robert Knight, cashier of the South-Sea company, who fled from Eugland in 1720 (afterwards pardoned in 1742).These lived with the utmost magnificence at Paris, and kept open tables frequented 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.

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 tit 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 uothing: 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 humuiingbird or a cockle, yet at worst they may be ma le free-inasons; where taciturnity is the only esscutial qualification, as it was the chief of the disciples of Pythagoras.

Her children first of more distinguish'd sort, Who study Shakespare at the inns of court.] I would that scholiast discharge his duty, who should neglect to honour those whom Dulness has distinguished or suffer them to lie forgotten, when eir rare modesty would have left them nameless. Tet 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 free-masons.

Ver. 576. A Gregorian, one a Gormogon,] A sort of lay-brothers, slips from the root of the

Ver. 607. Churches and chapels, &c.] The But if it be well considered, that whatever in-progress of this yawn is judicious, natural, and clination 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. 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, where 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 ii.

Πληθὸν δ ̓ οὐκ ἂν μυθήσομαι οὐδ ̓ ὀνομήνω,
Εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μούσαι, Διὸς αιγιόχοιο
Θυγατέρες, μνησαίαθ

And Virgil, En. 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 renal 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 intrance 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 intrance than barely to quiet.--Scribl.

Ver. 643. in the former edit. it stood thus:

Philosophy, that reach'd the Heavens before, Shrinks to her hidden cause, and is no more. And this was intended as a censure of the Newto nian philosophy. For the poet had been misled by the prejudices of foreigners, as if that philo sophy had recurred to the occult qualities of Aristotle. This was the idea he received of it from a man educated much abroad, who had read every thing, but every thing superficially. Had his excellent friend Dr. A. been consulted in this matter, it is certain that so unjust a reflection had never discredited so noble a satire. binted to him how he had been imposed upon, he changed the lines with great pleasure into a comnius, and a satire on the folly by which he the pliment (as they now stand) on that divine gepoet himself had been misled.

REMARKS.

When I

Ver. 641. Truth to her old cavern fled.] Allud ing 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."

Ver. 649. Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,] Blushing as well at the memory of the past overflow of Dulness, when the barbarous learning of so many ages was wholly employed in corrupting the simplicity, and defiling the purity of reVer. 629. She comes! she comes! &c.] Hereligion, as at the view of these her false supports the Muse, like Jove's eagle, after a sudden stoop at ignoble game, soareth again to the skies. prophecy hath ever been one of the chief provinces of poesy, our poet here foretells from what we feel, what we are to fear; and in the style of other prophets, hath used the future tense for the Ver. 650, And unawares morality expires.] It preterit: since what he says shall be, is already appears from hence that our poet was of very dif to be seen, in the writings of some even of our ferent sentiments from the author of the Cha most adored authors, in divinity, philosophy,racteristics, who has written a formal treatise on physics, metaphysics, &e, who are too good in-virtue, to prove it not only real but durable, withdeed to be named in such company.

in the present; of which it would be endless to recount the particulars. As 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.

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.

out 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 these are) who indeed love virtue, and yet do all they can to root out the religion of their country,

BY THE AUTHOR.

A DECLARATION.

WHEREAS certain haberdashers of points and particles, being instigated by the spirit of pride, and assuming to themselves the name of critics and restorers, have taken upon them to adulterate the common and current sense of our glorious ancestors, poets of this realm, by clipping, coining, defacing the images, mixing their own base alloy, or otherwise falsifying the same; which they publish, utter, and vend as genuine : The said haberdashers having no right thereto, as neither heirs, executors, administrators, assigns, or in any sort related to such poets, to all or any of them: Now, we having carefully revised this our Dunciad', beginning with the words "The mighty Mother," and ending with the words "buries all," containing the entire sum of one thousand seven hundred and fifty-four verses, declare every word, figure, point, and comma of this impression to be authentic: And do therefore strictly enjoin and forbid any person or persons whatsoever, to erase, reverse, put between hooks, or by any other means, directly or indirectly, change or mangle any of them. And we do hereby earnestly exhort all our brethren to follow this our example, which we heartily wish our great predecessors had heretofore set, as a remedy and prevention of all such abuses. Provided always, that nothing in this declaration shall be construed to limit the lawful and undoubted right of every subject of this realm, to judge, censure, or condemn, in the whole or in part, any poem or poet whatso

ever.

Given under our hands at London, this third day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred thirty and

two.

Declarat' cor' me, John Barber, mayor.

Read thus confidently, instead of "beginning with the word books, and ending with the word ties," as formerly it stood: Read also, 66 containing the entire sum of one thousand seven hundred and fifty-four verses," instead of "one thousand and twelve lines;" such being the initial and final words, and such the true and entire contents of this poem.

APPENDIX.

PREFACE

PREFIXED TO THE FIVE FIRST IMPERFECT EDITIONS
OF THE DUNCIAD, IN THREE BOOKS, PRINTED AT
DUBLIN AND LONDON, IN OCTAVO AND DUODE
CIMO, 1727.

Ir will be found a true observation, though some-
what surprising, that when any scandal is vented
against a man of the highest distinction and cha.
racter, either in the state or literature, the public
in general afford it a most quiet reception: and
the larger part accept it as favourably as if it were
some kindness done to themselves: whereas if a
known scoundrel or blockhead but chanced to be
touched upon, a whole legion is up in arms, and
it becomes the common cause of all scriblers, book-
sellers, and printers whatsoever.

THE PUBLISHER' TO THE READER.

Edward Ward tells us, in his preface to Durgen, 1 The publisher] Who he was is uncertain; but "that most judges are of opinion this preface is not of English extraction, but Hibernian," &c. He means it was written by Dr. Swift, who, whether publisher or not, may be said in a sort to be author of the poem. For when he, together with Mr. Pope (for reasons specified in the preface to their Miscellanies) determined to own the most trifling pieces in which they had any hand, and to destroy all that remained in their power; the first sketch of this poem was snatched from the fire by Dr. Swift, who persuaded his friend to proceed in it, and to him it was therefore inscribed. But the occasion of printing it was as follows:

Treatise of the Bathos, or Art of Sinking in There was published in those Miscellanies, a Poetry, in which was a chapter, where the species of bad writers were ranged in classes, and initial letters of names prefixed, for the most part at random. But such was the number of poets eminent in that art, that some one or other took every letter to himself. All fell into so violent a fury, that for half a year, or more, the common news-papers (in most of which they had some property, as being hired writers) were filled with the most abusive falsehoods and scurrilities they could possibly devise; a liberty no ways to be wondered at in those people, and in those papers, that, for many years, during the uncontrolled license of the press, had aspersed almost all the Thou art to know, reader that the first edigreat characters of the age; and this with impution thereof, like that of Milton, was never seen nity, their own persons and names being utterly by the author (though living and not blind). The secret and obscure. This gave Mr. Pope the editor himself confessed as much in his preface: thought, that he had now some opportunity of and no two poems were ever published in so arbi-doing good, by detecting and dragging into light trary a manner. The editor of this had as boldly suppressed whole passages, yea the entire last book, as the editor of Paradise Lost added and augmented. Milton himself gave but ten books, his editor twelve; this author gave four books, his editor only-three. But we have happily done justice to both; and presume we shall live, in this our last labour, as long as in any of our others.Bentl

these common enemies of mankind; since to invalidate this universal slander, it sufficed to show what contemptible men were the authors of it, He was not without hopes, that by manifesting the dulness of those who had only malice to recommend them; either the booksellers would not find their account in employing them, or the men themselves, when discovered, want courage to proceed in so unlawful an occupation. This it was that gave birth to the Dunciad; and he

The only exception is the author of the follow-its correction and perfection; and six years more ing poem, who doubtless had either a better in- he intended to bestow upon it, as would seem by sight into the grounds of this clamour, or a better this verse of Statius, which was cited at the head opinion of Mr. Pope's integrity, joined with a of his manuscript: greater personal love for him, than any other of his numerous friends and admirers.