manifests to him her works, i. 147, &c. Anoints him, ib. &c. Institutes games at his coronation, ii, 149, &c. The manner how she makes a wit, ii. 150. A great lover of a joke, 149.-And loves to repeat the same over again, 151. Her ways and means to procure the pathetic and terrible in tragedy, 155, &c. Encourages chattering and bawling, ib. &c. And is patroness of party-writing and railing, 156, &c. Makes use of the heads of critics as scales to weigh the heaviness of authors, 158. Promotes slumber with the works of the said authors, 159. The wonderful virtue of sleeping in her lap. iii. 160, &c. Her elysium, ib. &c. The souls of her sons dipped in Lethe, 161. How brought into the world, ib. Their transfiguration and metempsychosis, ib. The extent and glories of her empire, and her conquests throughout the world, iii. 162. A catalogue of her poetical forces in this nation, 163 to 165. Prophecy of her restoration, 167. Accomplishment of it, book iv. Her appearance on the throne, with the Sciences led in triumph, iv. 170. Tragedy and Comedy silenced, ib. General assembly of all her votaries, 171. Her patrons, ib. Her critics, 172. Her sway in the schools, 172, 173. And universities, 174, 175. How she educates gentlemen in their travels, 176. Constitutes virtuosi in science, 177. Free-thinkers in religion, 179. Slaves and dependents in government, ib. Finally turns them to beasts, but preserves the form of men, 180. What sort of comforters she sends

them, ib. What orders and degrees she confers on them, ib. What performances she expects from them, according to their several ranks and degrees, 181. The powerful yawn she breathes on them, ib. Its progress and effects, ib. till the consummation of all. in the total extinction of the reasonable soul, and restoration of Night and Chaos, usq. ad fin. 182. Dispensary of Dr. Garth, ii. 153,

De Foe, Daniel, in what resembled to William Prynn, i.

142.

De Foe, Norton, a scandalous writer, ii. 160

DENNIS, (John) his character of himself, i. 142.

Senior to Mr. Durfey, iii, 164.

-Esteemed by our author, and why, ib.
-His love of puns, i. 141.

And politics, i. 142; ii, 159.

-His great loyalty to King George, how proved, i. 142.
-A great friend to the stage-and to the state, ii. 159.
How he proves that none but non-jurors and dis-

affected persons wrote against stage-plays, ib.

-His respect to the bible and alcoran, ib.
His excuse for obscenity in plays, iii. 164.

-His mortal fear of Mr. Pope, founded on Mr. Curl's assurances, i. 142.

151.

-Of opinion that he poisoned Curl, ib.

His reason why Homer was, or was not in debt, ii.

FALSEHOODS, told of our author in print,

--Of his taking verses from Janies Moore, Test. -And of his intending to abuse bishop Burnet, ib. By John Dennis, of his really poisoning Mr Curl, i. 142. -And of contempt for the sacred writings. ii. 156. -By Edward Ward, of his being bribed by a duchess to satirize Ward of Hackney in the pillory, iii. 161. By Mist the journalist, of unfair proceeding in the undertaking of the Odyssey and Shakspeare, Test. -Disproved by the testimony of the Lords Harcourt and Bathurst.

-By Mist, the journalist, concerning Mr. Addison and him, two or three lies, Test.

-By Pasquin, of his being in a plot, iii. 164. -By Sir Richard Blackmore, of his burlesquing Scripture, upon the authority of Curl, ii. 156. Fletcher, made Cibber's property, i. 143.

Mac Fleckno, not so decent and chaste in the diction as the Dunciad, ii, 151.

Friendship, understood by Mr. Dennis to be somewhat else in Nisus and Euryalus, &c. iii. 164. French cooks, iv. 180.

Furius, Mr. Dennis called so, by Mr. Theobald, i. 142. Fleet-ditch, ii. 156. Its nymphs, 158. Discoveries there, ib. Flies, not the ultimate object of human study, iv. 178. Falsehoods and flatteries permitted to be inscribed on churches, i. 140.

HANDEL, an excellent musician, banished to Ireland by the English nobility, iv. 171.

Heydezgre, a strange bird from Switzerland, i. 147.
HORACE, censured by Mr. Welsted, Test.

-Did not know what he was about when he wrote his Art of Poetry, ib.

HENLEY (John the Orator) his Tub and Eucharist, ii. 149. His history, iií. 165. His opinion of ordination and christian priesthood, ib. His medals, ib.

HAYWOOD (Mrs.) What sort of game for her, ii. 153. Won by Curl, 154. Her great respect for him, 153. The offspring of her brain and body (according to Curl, ib. Not undervalued by being set against a jordan, 153. Hints, extraordinary ones, ii. 156.

HORNECK and ROOME, two party-writers, iii. 163.

Index learning, the use of it. i. 147.

Journals, how dear they cost the nation, ii. 157. Jus Divinum, iv. 173.

Impudence, celebrated in Mr. Curl, ii. 153, 154. -in Mr. Norton de Foe, ii. 160.

MILBOURN, a fair critic, and why, ii. 158.

197

POPE (Mr.) his life] Educated by Jesuits-by a parson-by a monk at St. Omer's-at Oxford-at home-no where at all, Test. init. His father, a merchant, a husbandman, a farmer, a hatter, the devil, ib.

His death threatened by Dr. Smedley, ib. but afterwards advised to hang himself, or cut his throat, ib. To be hunted down like a wild beast, by Mr. Theobald, ib, unless hanged for treason, on information of Pasquin, Mr. Dennis, Mr. Curl, and Concanen, ib. Poverty, never to be mentioned in Satire, in the opinion of the journalists and hackney-writers-The poverty of Codrus, not touched upon by Juvenal, ii. 153. When, and how far poverty may be satirised, letter, p. 125. Whenever mentioned by our author, it is only as an extenuation and excuse for bad writers, ii. 156. Personal abuses not to be endured, in the opinion of Mr Dennis, Theobald, Curl, &c. ii. 152.

Personal abuses on our author, by Mr. Dennis, Gildon, &c. ib.-by Mr. Theobald, Test.-By Mr. Ralph, iii. 163. -By Mr. Welsted, ii. 164-By Mr. Cooke, ii. 152.-By Mr. Concanen, ii. 157.-By Sir Richard Blackmore, ii. 156-By Edward Ward, iii. 161-and their brethren. passim.

Personal abuses of others. Mr. Theobald of Mr. Dennis for his poverty, i. 142. Mr. Dennis of Mr. Theobald for his livelihood by the stage, and the law, i. 147. Mr. Dennis of Sir Richard Blackmore for impiety, ii. 156. Dr. Smedley of Mr. Concanen, ii. 157. Mr. Oldmixon's of Mr. Eusden, i. 142. Of Mr. Addison, ii. 156. Mr. Cook's of Mr. Eusden, i. 142.

Politics, very useful in criticism, Mr. Dennis's, i. 142; ii.

Palmaers, pilgrims, iii. 162.

Pindars and Miltons, of the modern sort, iii. 163.

Shakspeare, to be spelled always with an eat the end, i. An edition 133, but not with an e in the middle, ib. of him in marble, ib. Mangled, altered, and cut by the players and critics, i. 143. very sore still of Tibbald, ib.

Sepulchral lies on church-walls, i. 140.

SETTLE (Elkanah) Mr. Dennis's account of him. iii. 161. And Mr. Welsted's, ib. Once preferred to Dryden, iii. ib. A party-writer of pamphlets, ib. and iii. 166. A writer of farces and drolls, and employed at last in Bartholomew-fair, iii. 167.

Sawney, a Poem: the author's great ignorance in classical learning, i. 139.

In languages, iii. 163.

His praises of himself above Mr. Addison, 164. Swiss of heaven, who they are, ii. 158. Silenus described, iv. 179. Scholiasts, iii. 165. iv. 174. Supperless, a mistake concerning this word set right with respect to poets and other temperate students, i. 143. Sevenfold Face, who master of it, i. 146. Soul (the vulgar soul) its office, iv. 178. Schools, their homage paid to dulness, and in what, iv. 172.

TIEBALD, not hero of this poem, i. init. Published an edition of Shakspeare, i. 143. Author secretly, and abettor of scurrilities against Mr. P. Vide Test. and List of Books.

Thule, a very Northern Poem, puts out a fire, i. 147. Tailors, a good word for them, against poets and ill pay. masters, ii. 151.

Thunder, how to make it by Mr. Dennis's receipt, ii. 155. Traveling described, and its advantages, iv. 175.

EPISTLE VII.

IMITATED IN THE MANNER OF DR. SWIFT.

'Tis true, my lord, I gave my word,
I would be with you, June the third;
Changed it to August, and in short,
Have kept it as you do at court.
You humour me when I am sick,
Why not when I am splenetick?
In town, what objects could I meet?
The shops shut up in every street,
And funerals blackening all the doors,
And yet more melancholy whores :
And what a dust in every place!

And a thin court that wants your face,
And fevers raging up and down,
And W and H** both in town!

"The dog-days are no more the case." "Tis true, but winter comes apace : Then southward let your bard retire, Hold out some months 'twixt sun and fire, And you shall see, the first warm weather, Me and the butterflies together.

My lord, your favours well I know;

'Tis with distinction you bestow ; And not to every one that comes,

Just as a Scotsman does his plums:

66

Pray take them, sir.-Enough's a feast: Eat some, and pocket up the rest.”—

What, rob your boys? those pretty rogues!
"No, sir, you'll leave them to the hogs."
Thus fools, with compliments besiege ye,
Contriving never to oblige ye.
Scatter your favours on a fop,
Ingratitude's the certain crop ;

And 'tis but just, I'll tell ye wherefore,
You give the things you never care for.
A wise man always is, or shou'd
Be mighty ready to do good:
But makes a difference in his thought
Betwixt a guinea and a groat.

Now this I'll say, you'll find in me
A safe companion, and a free;
But if you'd have me always near-
A word, pray, in your honour's ear.
I hope it is your resolution
To give me back my constitution!
The sprightly wit, the lively eye,
The engaging smile, the gaiety,

That laugh'd down many a summer sun,
And kept you up so oft till one :
And all that voluntary vein,
As when Belinda raised my strain.

A weasel once made shift to slink
In at a corn-loft through a chink;
But having amply stuff'd his skin,
Could not get out as he got in:
Which one belonging to the house
('Twas not a man, it was a mouse)
Observing, cried, " You 'scape not so!
Lean as you came, sir, you must go."
Sir, you may spare your application,
I'm no such beast, nor his relation;

Nor one that temperance advance,
Cramm'd to the throat with ortolans:
Extremely ready to resign

All that may make me none of mine.
South-sea subscriptions take who please,
Leave me but liberty and ease.
"Twas what I said to Craggs and Child,
Who praised my modesty and smiled.
Give me, I cried, (enough for me)
My bread, and independency!
So bought an annual rent or two,
And lived-just as you see I do;
Near fifty, and without a wife,

I trust that sinking fund, my life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my paternal cell,
A little house, with trees a-row,
And, like its master, very low.
There died my father, no man's debtor,
And there I'll die, nor worse nor better.
To set this matter full before ye,
Our old friend Swift will tell his story.
"Harley, the nation's great support,"-
But you may read it, I stop short.

SATIRE VI.

THE FIRST PART IMITATED IN THE YEAR 1714, BY DR. SWIFT, THE LATTER PART ADDED AFTERWARDS.

I'VE often wish'd that I had clear
For life, six hundred pounds a year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end,
A terrace-walk, and half a rood
Of land, set out to plant a wood.

Well, now I have all this and more,
I ask not to increase my store;
"But here a grievance seems to lie,
All this is mine but till I die;

I can't but think 'twould sound more clever,
To me and to my heirs for ever.

"If I ne'er got or lost a groat,
By any trick, or any fault;
And if I pray by Reason's rules,
And not like forty other fools:

As thus, 'Vouchsafe, O gracious Maker!
To grant me this and t' other acre:
Or, if it be thy will and pleasure,
Direct my plough to find a treasure :'
But only what my station fits,
And to be kept in my right wits,
Preserve, Almighty Providence!
Just what you gave me, competence:
And let me in these shades compose
Something in verse as true as prose;
Removed from all the ambitious scene.
Nor puff'd by pride, nor sunk by spleen."

In short, I'm perfectly content,
Let me but live on this side Trent;
Nor cross the channel twice a year,
To spend six months with statesmen here.

I must, by all means come to town,
"Tis for the service of the crown.
"Lewis, the dean will be of use,
Send for him up, take no excuse."
The toil, the danger of the seas,
Great ministers ne'er think of these;
Or let it cost five hundred pound,
No matter where the money's found.
It is but so much more in debt,
And that they ne'er consider'd yet.

"Good Mr. Dean, go change your gown,
Let my lord know you're come to town."
I hurry me in haste away,
Not thinking it is levee-day;
And find his honour in a pound,
Hemm'd by a triple circle round,

Chequer'd with ribbons blue and green :
How should I thrust myself between ?
Some wag observes me thus perplext,
And smiling, whispers to the next,

"I thought the dean had been too proud,
To justle here among a crowd."
Another, in a surly fit,

Tells me I have more zeal than wit: "So eager to express your love, You ne'er consider whom you shove, But rudely press before a duke." I own, I'm pleased with this rebuke, And take it kindly meant to show What I desire the world should know. I get a whisper, and withdraw : When twenty fools I never saw Come with petitions fairly penn'd, Desiring I would stand their friend. This, humbly offers me his caseThat, begs my interest for a placeA hundred other men's affairs, Like bees, are humming in my ears. "To-morrow my appeal comes on, Without your help the cause is gone". The duke expects my lord and you, About some great affair, at two"Put my Lord Bolingbroke in mind, To get my warrant quickly sign'd: Consider 'tis my first request."Be satisfied, I'll do my best :Then presently he falls to tease, "You may for certain if you please; I doubt not, if his lordship knewAnd Mr. Dean, one word from you "Tis (let me see) three years and more, (October next it will be four) Since HARLEY bid me first attend, And chose me for an humble friend; Would take me in his coach to chat, And question me of this and that;

As, "What's-o'clock?" And, "How's the wind?" "Whose chariot's that we left behind?"

Or gravely try to read the lines

Writ underneath the country signs;
Or, "Have you nothing new to-day

From Pope, from Parnell, or from Gay 1"
Such tattle often entertains

My lord and me as far as Staines,
As once a week we travel down
To Windsor, and again to town;
Where all that passes, inter nos,
Might be proclaim'd at Charing-cross.
Yet some, I know, with envy swell,
see me used so well:

Because they

"How think you of our friend the dean?
I wonder what some people mean;
My lord and he are grown so great,
Always together, téte-à-tête.
What, they admire him for his jokes-
See but the fortune of some folks!"
There flies about a strange report
Of some express arrived at court;
I'm stopp'd by all the fools I meet,
And catechised in every street.
"You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great;
Inform us, will the emperor treat?
Or do the prints and papers lie?
Faith, sir, you know as much as I.
Ah, Doctor, how you love to jest!
"Tis now no secret"-I protest

66

"Tis one to me-" Then tell us, pray, When are the troops to have their pay?" And though I solemnly declare

I know no more than my Lord Mayor, They stand amazed, and think me grown The closest mortal ever known.

Thus in a sea of folly toss'd,
My choicest hours of life are lost;
Yet always wishing to retreat,
Oh, could I see my country seat!
There leaning near a gentle brook,
Sleep, or peruse some ancient book,
And there in sweet oblivion drown
Those cares that haunt the court and town.
O charming noons! and nights divine!
Or when I sup, or when I dine,
My friends above, my folks below,
Chatting and laughing, all-a-row,
The beans and bacon set before 'em,
The grace-cup served with all decorum :
Each willing to be pleased, and please,
And even the very dogs at ease!
Here no man prates of idle things;
How this or that Italian sings,

A neighbour's madness or his spouse's,
Or what's in either of the Houses :
But something much more our concern,
And quite a scandal not to learn:
Which is the happier, or the wiser,
A man of merit or a miser}

Whether we ought to choose our friends,

For their own worth, or our own ends?
What good, or better, we may call,

And what, the very best of all?

Our friend Dan Prior told, you know, A tale extremely à propos : Name a town life, and in a trice, He had a story of two mice. Once on a time (so runs the fable) A country mouse, right hospitable, Received a town mouse at his board, Just as a farmer might a lord. A frugal mouse upon the whole, Yet loved his friend, and had a soul; Knew what was handsome, and would do't, On just occasion, coûte qui coûte. He brought him bacon, (nothing lean) Pudding, that might have pleased a dean; Cheese, such as men in Suffolk make, But wish'd it Stilton for his sake; Yet, to his guest though no way sparing, He eat himself the rind and paring. Our courtier scarce could touch a bit, But show'd his breeding and his wit;