iv pages were written in an obscure country town, without the advantage of Books, or a Literary Society, and that the manuscripts were sent wet to the press; Therefore I shall take leave of my Muse, nearly in the valedictory words of Bonofonius to his mistress; Vale errorque meus, meusque portus, TRANSLATION. Farewell my quicksand, and my port, Farewell my nothing, and my all. TWO things there are confound the Poet's lays, The Scholar's censure, and the Blockhead's praise: *The Exordium of a Poem should be like the vestibule of an house; not so magnificent as to cause the other apartments to appear to a disadvantage; not so mean as to extinguish all curiosity to inspect the rest of the mansion, In this first Book, which I could wish to be considered as introductory, some readers will accuse me of wandering from my subject, like Montaigne in his bootless chapter on boots; and this accusation would be well grounded, if Hypocrisy were confined to the Church. But alas this vice boasts a more extensive dominion. In politics she hath her knaves,and demagogues ; in literature her pedants, and sciolists; A That glowing page with double lustre shines, When Pope approves, and Dennis* damns the lines. Pleased I anticipate that favouring gale, The threatening breath of Fools, to swell my sail; No jewel wear, but one vast lump of lead; The best definition in medicine her quacks, and charletans. I recollect of an Hypocrite is this "Quod non est simulat, dissimulat que quod est." And the Greeks seem to have had the same Idea, when they designated the hypocrite and the actor by one general term. If then all who aet a part are Hypocrites, if all are such, who hide what they are, or affect to be what they are not: then I suspect it will be more difficult to shew where Hypocrisy does not exist than where it does. * John Dennis, the dull, but relentless adversary of Pope and Addison; the self importance of this man is worthy of being recorded. Having published a Tragedy which contained an Invective against the French Nation, he waited on the Duke of Marlborough, after the Treaty of Utrecht, to request his Grace would use his influence that he might not be delivered up to the French King. The Duke gravely told him, he had not as yet taken any such precautions with regard to himself, although he must conceive he had done that Nation almost as much mischief as Mr. Dennis. Nought might these wretches' mad revenge control, Had they great Cæsar's power-but Cæsar's soul; Fools o'erlook benefits, but wrongs o'errate, Sluggish in gratitude, alert in hate; But Cæsar's mind was cast in different mould, Rail then, ye dunces, dignified abuse, And cheer with loud anathemas my muse, Blast not with cruel smile the Poet's bays, Nor blight them with the mildew of your praise; Rail on, and railing fan the kindling hope I may at least in one thing † rival Pope; Whose pigmy foes ennobled by the hand That slew them, hence alone some fame command; Their very names from Us had been concealed, But that their darts stick in a Giant's shield. § Thus the vile lead that laid great Nelson low, In gold and chrystal set, becomes a show. "Pessimum inimicorum genus laudantes." encomiasts are our worst enemies. Indiscriminate In the hate of Dunces. "Give me half a Crown," said Swift to Pope, "and I will engage that posterity shall know no more of your enemies than chuse to tell them." § The Dunciad. you The points of resemblance here are, the vileness of the Then let your anger smoke, it cannot blaze, And fools will have in verse, or prose, their long instruments, and the circumstance of their becoming notorious by an attack which proved quite unable to wound the fame of those great men. Mr. Beattie, Surgeon of the Victory, is in possession of the ball that caused Nelson's death; I am informed it is set in chrystal in a very curious and costly manner, and part of the epaulette, which it carried away is still to be seen adhering to it. Were Great Britain to apostrophise' would she not exclaim with Æneas "Spoliis indute meorum' and reflecting on the loss of her gallant Son, would she not add in nearly the same words with Evander, "Sollicita O utinam dederas promissa Parenti Cautius ut sævo velles te credere Marti !' In the library of Buonaparte were lately observed the busts of two Englishmen, Nelson and Fox; an Italian translation of Ossian was lying on the table, apparently much thumbed. |