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Lo sneering Gocde, half malice, and half whim,

A fiend in glee, ridiculously grim.

Each cygnet sweet, of Bath and Tunbridge race, 155
Whose tuneful whistling makes the waters pass:
Each songster, riddler, ev'ry nameless name,
All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame.
Some strain in rhyme; the Muses, on their racks,
Scream like the winding of ten thousand jacks;
Some free from rhyme, or reason, rule, or check,
Break Priscian's head, and Pegasus's neck;

REMARKS.

160

party-writers, worthily coupled together, and, one would think, prophetically; since, after the publishing of this piece the former dying, the latter succeeded him in honour and employment. The first was Philip Horneck, author of a Billingsgate paper called The High German Doctor. Edward Roome was son of an undertaker for funerals in Fleet-street, and writ some of the papers called Pasquin, where, by malicious innuendoes, he endeavoured to represent our Author guilty of malevolent practices with a great man then under prosecution of parliament. Of this man was made the following epigram: "You ask why Roome diverts you with his jokes, "Yet if he writes as dull as other folks,

"You wonder at it---This, Sir, is the case, "The jest is lost, unless he prints his face." P-ple was the author of some vile plays and pamphlets. He published abuses on our Author in a paper called The Prompter.

v. 153.---Goode.] An ill-natured critic, who writ a satire on our Author, called The Mock Esop, and many anonymous libels in newspapers, for hire.

VARIATIONS.

v. 157. Each songster, riddler, &c.] In the former edit.
Lo Bond and roxton, ev'ry nameless name.
After ver. 158. in the first edition followed:
How proud, how pale, how earnest all appear!
How rhymes eternal jingle in their ear!

164

Down, down the larum, with impetuous whirl,
The Pindars, and the Miltons of a Curl.
Silence, ye Wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls,
And makes night hideous---Answer him, ye Owls!
Sense, speech, and measure, living tongues and dead,
Let all give way---and Morris may be read.
Flow, Welsted, flow! like thine inspirer, beer,
Tho' stale, not ripe; tho' thin, yet never clear;
So sweetly mawkish, and so smoothly dull;
Heady, not strong; o'erflowing, though not full.

REMARKS.

170

v.15.---Ralph. James Ralph, a name inserted after the first editions, not known to our author till he writ a swearing-piece called Sawney, very abusive of Dr. Swift, Mr. Gay, and himself. These lines alluded to a thing of his entitled Night, a poem. This low writer attended his own works with panegyrics in the Journals, and once in particular praised himself highly above Mr. Addison, in wretched remarks upon that author's account of English Poets printed in a London Journal, Sept. 17, 1728. He was wholly illiterate, and knew no language, not even French. Being advised to read the Rules of dramatic poetry before he began a play, he smiled, and replied, Shakespeare writ without rules." He ended at last, in the common sink of all such writers, a political newspaper, to which he was recommended by his friend Arnall, and received a small pittance for pay.

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IMITATIONS.

v. 166. And maker right bideous.------]

Visit thus the glimpses of the moon, "Making night hideous.'

Shakesp.

v. 169. Flow, Welsted, flow! &c.] Parody on Denham, Cooper's Hill:

"O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
"My great example, as it is my theme:

"Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;
"Strong without rage; without o'erflowin

Lo sneering Goode, half malice, and half whim,

A fiend in glee, ridiculously grim.

Each cygnet sweet, of Bath and Tunbridge race, 155
Whose tuneful whistling makes the waters pass:
Each songster, riddler, ev'ry nameless name,
All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame.
Some strain in rhyme; the Muses, on their racks,
Scream like the winding of ten thousand jacks;
Some free from rhyme, or reason, rule, or check,
Break Priscian's head, and Pegasus's neck;

REMARKS.

160

party-writers, worthily coupled together, and, one would think, prophetically; since, after the publishing of this piece the former dying, the latter succeeded him in honour and employment. The first was Philip Horneck, author of a Billingsgate paper called The High German Doctor. Edward Roome was son of an undertaker for funerals in Fleet-street, and writ some of the papers called Pasquin, where, by malicious innuendoes, he endeavoured to represent our Author guilty of malevolent practices with a great man then under prosecution of parliament. Of this man was made the following epigram: "You ask why Roome diverts you with his jokes, "Yet if he writes as dull as other folks,

"You wonder at it---This, Sir, is the case, "The jest is lost, unless he prints his face." P-ple was the author of some vile plays and pamphlets. He published abuses on our Author in a paper called The Prompter.

v. 153.---Goode.] An ill-natured critic, who writ a satire on our Author, called The Mock Æsop, and many anonymous libels in newspapers, for hire.

VARIATIONS.

v. 157. Each songster, riddler, &c.] In the former edit.
Lo Bond and Foxton, ev'ry nameless name.
After ver. 158. in the first edition followed:
How proud, how pale, how earnest all appear!
How Fhymes eternal jingle in their ear!

There, dim in clouds, the poring scholiasts mark: Wits, who, like owls, see only in the dark, A lumberhouse of books in ev'ry head, For ever reading, never to be read!

But, where each science lifts its modern type,

Hist'ry her pot, Divinity her pipe,

195

200

While proud Philosophy repines to show,
Dishonest sight! his breeches rent below;
Imbrown'd with native bronze, lo! Henley stands,
Tuning his voice, and balancing his hands.
How fluent nonsense trickles from his tongue!
How sweet the periods, neither said nor sung!
Still break the benches, Henley! with thy strain,
While Sherlock, Hare, and Gibson, preach in vain.
Oh greater restorer of the good old stage,
Preacher at once, and Zany of thy age!
Ch worthy thou of Egypt's wise abodes,
A decent priest, where monkeys were the gods!

REMARKS.

205

v. 199---lo! Henley stands, &c.] J. Henley the orator; he preached on the Sundays upon Theological matters, and on the Wednesdays upon all other Sciences. Each auditor paid one shilling He declaimed some years against the greatest persons, and occasionally did our Author that honour.

v. 204.---Sherloc, Hare, ---Gibson.] Bishops of Salisbury, Chichester, and London; whose Sermons and Pastoral Letters did honour to theircountry as well as stations.

VARIATIONS.

7. 197. In the first edition it was,

And proud Philosophy with breeches tore,
And English music with a dismal score.
Fast by in darkness palpable inshrin'd
W---s, Br, M---, all the poring kind,
Volume IV.

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But Fate with butchers plac'd thy priestly stall,
Meek modern faith to murder, hack, and mawl;
And bade thee live, to crown Britannia's praise,
n Toland's, Tindal's, and in Woolston's days.
Yet, oh, my sons! a father's words attend:
(So may the Fates preserve the ears you lend)
'Tis yours a Bacon, or a Locke to blame,

A Newton's genius, or a Milton's flame:
But, oh! with one, immortal one, dispense,
The source of Newton's light, of Bacon's sense.
Content, each amanation of his fires

That beams on earth, each virtue he inspires,
Each heart, he prompts, each charm he can create,
Whate'er he gives are giv'n for you to hate.
Persist, by all divine in man unaw'd,

210

215

220

But, "Learn, ye Dunces! not to scorn your God."
Thus he, for then a ray of reason stole
Half through the solid darkness of his soul;
But soon the cloud return'd---and thus the sire:
See now what Dulness, and her Sons admire!
See what the charms that smite the simple heart,
Not touch'd by Nature, and not reach'd by Art.
His never-blushing head he turn'd aside,
(Not half so pleas'd when Goodman prophesy'd),

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230

REMARKS.

v. 212. Of Toland and Tindal, see Book II. ver. 309. Thomas Woolston was an impious madman, who wrote, in a most insolent style, against the miracles of the Gospel, in the years 1626, &c.

IMITATIONS.

v. 2. Learn, ye Dances! not to scorn your God." "Discite justitiam moniti et non temnere divos."

Virg.

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