On whom three hundred gold-capt youths await,
To lug the pond'rous volume off in state.

When Dulness, fmiling--" Thus revive the Wits! But murder firft, and mince them all to bits; As erft Medea (cruel, fo to fave!)

120

Let ftandard-Authors, thus, like trophies born,
Appear more glorious as more hack'd and torn.
And you, my Critics! in the chequer'd fhade, 125
Admire new light thro' holes yourselves have made.
Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone,

A Page, a Grave, that they can call their own;

REMARK S.

VER. 119. "Thus revive, &c.] The Goddess applauds the practice of tacking the obscure names of Perfons not eminent in any branch of learning, to thofe of the most diftinguished Writers; either by printing Editions of their works with impertinent alterations of their Text, as in the former inftances; or by fetting up Monuments difgraced with their own vile names and infcriptions, as in the latter.

VER. 122, old Æfon] Of whom Ovid (very applicable to these restored authors)

Æfon miratur,

Diffimilemque animum fubiit→→→

VER. 128. A page, a Grave,] For what lefs than a Grave can be granted to a dead author? or what lefs than a Page can be allowed a living one?

IMITATIONS:

VER. 126. Admire new light, &c.]

The Soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,

Lets in new light, through chinks that time kas made: Waller.

But fpread, my fons, your glory thin or thick,

On paffive paper, or on folid brick.

So by each Bard an Alderman fhall fit,

A heavy Lord fhall hang at ev'ry Wit,

REMARK S.

130

VER. 128. A Page,] Pagina, not Pedissequus. A Page of a Book, not a Servant, Follower, or Attendant; no Poet having had a Page fince the death of Mr. Thomas Durfey.

SCRIBL. VER. 131. So by each Bard an Alderman, &c] Vide the Tombs of the Poets, Editio Weftmonafterienfis.

Ibid.-an Alderman fhall fit,] Alluding to the Monument erected for Butler by Alderman Barber.

VER. 132. A heavy Lord fhall bang at ev'ry Wit,] How unnatural an Image! and how ill fupported, faith Ariftarchus. Had it been,

A beavy Wit fhall hang at ev'ry Lord,

fomething might have been said, in an Age so diftinguished for well-judging Patrons. For LORD, then, read LOAD; that is, of Debts here, and of Commentaries hereafter. To this purpofe, confpicuous is the cafe of the poor Author of Hudibras, whole body, long fince weighed down to the Grave by a load of debts, has lately had a more unmerciful load of Commentaries laid upon his Spirit; wherein the Editor has atchieved more than Virgil himself, when he turned Critic, could boast of, which was only, that he had pick'd gold out of another man's dung; whereas the Editor has picked it out of his own. SCRIBL.

Ariftarchus thinks the common reading right: and that the author himself had been struggling; and but just shaken off his Load when he wrote the following Epigram.

"My Lord complains, that Pope, stark mad with gardens,
"Has lopt three trees the value of three farthings:
"But he's my neighbour, cries the peer polite,
"And if he'll vifit me, I'll wave my right.
"What? on Compulfion? and against my Will,
"A Lord's acquaintance? Let him file his Bill,

And while on Fame's triumphal Car they ride,

Some Slave of mine be pinion'd to their fide.

Now crowds on crowds around the Goddefs prefs, Each eager to prefent the firft Addrefs.

136

Dunce scorning Dunce beholds the next advance,
But Fop fhews Fop fuperior complaifance.

When lo! a spectre rofe, whose index-hand

Held forth the Virtue of the dreadful wand;

140

His beaver'd brow a birchen garland wears,
Dropping with Infant's Blood, and Mother's tears.
O'er ev'ry vein a fhudd'ring horror runs ;
Eton and Winton shake thro' all their Sons.

VER. 137, 138.

REMARK S.

Dunce fcorning Dunce beholds the next advance,
But Fop fhews Fop fuperior complaisance.]

This is not to be afcribed fo much to the different manners of a Court and College, as to the different effects which a pretence to Learning, and a pretence to Wit have on Blockheads. For as Judgment confifts in finding out the differences in things, and Wit in finding out their likenesses, fo the Dunce is all difcord and diffenfion, and conftantly bufied in reproving, examining, confuting, &c. while the Fop flourishes in peace, with Songs and Hymns of praife, Addresses, Characters, Epithalamiums, &c.

VER. 140. the dreadful wand;] A cane ufually born by Schoolmasters, which drives the poor Souls about like the wand of Mercury.

IMITATIONS.

VER. 142. Dropping with infant's blood, &c.]
Firft Moloch, borrid King, befmear'd with blood
Of buman Sacrifice, and parents tears.

SCRIBL.

Milt,

145

All Flesh is humbled, Westminster's bold race
Shrink, and confefs the Genius of the place:
The pale Boy-Senator yet tingling ftands,
And holds his breeches clofe with both his hands.
Then thus. Since Man from beaft by Words is
known,

149
Words are Man's province, Words we teach alone.
When Reason doubtful, like the Samian letter,
Points him two ways, the narrower is the better.
Plac'd at the door of Learning, youth to guide,
We never fuffer it to stand too wide.

REMARKS.

VER. 148. And bolds his breeches] An effect of Fear fomewhat like this, is defcribed in the viith Æneid,

Contremuit nemus

Et trepida matres pressere ad pectora natos.

nothing being fo natural in any apprehenfion, as to lay clofe hold on whatever is fuppos'd to be most in danger. But let it not be imagined the author would infinuate these youthful fenators (tho' fo lately come from school) to be under the undue influence of any Mafier. SCRIBL.

VER. 151. like the Samian letter,] The letter Y used by Pythagoras as an emblem of the different roads of Virtue and Vice.

Et tibi quæ Samios diduxit litera ramos.

Perf.

VER. 153. Plac'd at the door, &c.] This circumftance of the Genius Loci (with that of the Index-hand before) seems to be an allufion to the Table of Cebes, where the Genius of human Nature points out the road to be pursued by those entering into life. Ὁ δὲ γέρων ὁ ἄνω ἐφηκῶς, ἔχων χάλην τινὰ ἐν τῇ χειρὶ, καὶ τῇ ἑτέρα ὥστες δεικνύων τί, το Δαίμων καλεῖται, Ει.

To ask, to guess, to know, as they commence, 155
As Fancy opens the quick springs of Sense,
We ply the Memory, we load the brain,
Bind rebel Wit, and double chain on chain,

Confine the thought, to exercise the breath;
And keep them in the pale of Words till death. 160
Whate'er the talents, or howe'er defign'd,

165

We hang one jingling padlock on the mind:
A Poet the first day, he dips his quilt;
And what the laft? a very Poet ftill.
Pity! the charm works only in our wall,
Loft, loft too foon in yonder House or Hall.
There truant WYNDHAM ev'ry Muse gave o'er,
There TALBOT funk, and was a Wit no more!
How fweet an Ovid, MURRAY was our boaft!
How many Martials were in PULT'NEX loft! 170

REMARK S,

VER. 154-to fand too wide] A pleafant Allufion to the description of the door of Wisdom in the Table of Cebes, Θύραν τινὰ μικρὰν.

VER. 159. to exercise the breath;] By obliging them to get the claffic poets by heart, which furnishes them with endless matter for Conversation and Verbal amusement for their whole lives.

VER. 162. We bang one jingling padlock, &c.] For youth being ufed like Pack horfes and beaten under a heavy load of Words, left they fhould tire, their inftructors contrive to make the Words jingle in rhyme or metre.

VIR. 165. in yonder House or Hall,] Westminster-hall and the Houfe of Commons.