The occasion of publishing these Imitations was the clamour raised on some of my Epistles. An answer from Horace was both more full and of more dignity than any I could have made in my own person; and the example of much greater freedom in so eminent a divine as Dr. Donne seemed a proof with what indignation and contempt a Christian may treat vice or folly in ever so low or ever so high a station.. Both these authors were acceptable to the princes and ministers under whom they lived. The Satires of Dr. Donne I versified at the desire of the Earl of Oxford, while he was Lord Treasurer, and of the Duke of Shrewsbury, who had been Secretary of State; neither of whom looked upon a satire on vicious courts as any reflection on those they served in. And indeed there is not in the world a greater error than that which fools are so apt to fall into, and knaves with good reason to encourage---the mistaking a satirist for a libeller; whereas to a true satirist nothing is so odious as a libeller, for the same reason as to a man truly virtuous nothing is so hateful as a hypocrite. Uni æquus virtuti atque ejus amicis. P. ADVERTISEMENT. Whoever expects a paraphrase of Horace, or a faithful copy of his genius or manner of writing, in these Imitations, will be much disappointed. Our author uses the Roman Poet for little more than his canvas; and if the old design or colouring chance to suit his purpose, it is well; if not, he employs his own without scruple or ceremony. Hence it is he is so frequently serious where Horace is in jest, and at ease where Horace is disturbed. In a word, he regulates his movements no further on his original, than was necessary for his concurrence in promoting their common plan of reformation of manners. Had it been his purpose merely to paraphrase an ancient satirist, he had hardly made choice of Horace, with whom, as a poet, he held little in common, besides a comprehensive knowledge of life and manners, and a certain curious felicity of expression, which consists in using the simplest language with dignity, and the most ornamented with ease. For the rest, his harmony and strength of numbers, his force and splendour of colouring, his gravity and sublimity of sentiment, would have rather led him to another model. Nor was his temper less unlike that of Horace than his talents. What Horace would only smile at, Mr. Pope would treat with the grave severity of Persius; and what Mr. Pope would strike with the caustic lightning of Juvenal, Horace would content himself with turning into ridicule. If it be asked, then, why he took any body at all to imitate, he has informed us in his Advertisement; to which we may add, that this sort of Imitation, which is of the nature of Parody, throws reflected grace and splendour on original wit. Besides, he deemed it more modest to give the name of Imitations to his Satires, than, like Despreaux, to give the name of Satires to Imitations. BOOK II. SAT. I. TO MR. FORTESCUE. P. THERE are (I scarce can think it, but am told) F. I'd write no more. P. Not write? but then I think, ' And for my soul I cannot sleep a wink. I nod in company, I wake at night; F. You could not do a worse thing for your life. 10 16 Hartshorn, or something that shall close your eyes. Or if you needs must write, write Cæsar's praise; 21 You'll gain at least a knighthood or the bays. P. What? like Sir Richard, rumbling, rough, and fierce, [verse; With arms, and George, and Brunswick, crowd the Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder, With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder? Or nobly wild, with Budgell's fire and force, F. Better be Cibber, I'll maintain it still, 50 35 And laugh at peers that put their trust in Peter. 40 Ev'n those you touch not hate you, P. What should ail 'em? P. Each mortal has his pleasure: none deny The soul stood forth, nor kept a thought within; 45 50 55 60 Papist or Protestant, or both between, While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory, Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors. Slander or poison dread from Delia's rage: Then, learned sir! (to cut the matter short) 65 75 80 85 90 95 100 In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint, Like Lee or Budgell I will rhyme aud print. F. Alas, young man, your days can ne'er be long; In flower of age you perish for a song! 106 110 115 120 P. What arm'd for virtue when I point the pen, Brand the bold front of shameless guilty men, Dash the proud gamester in his gilded car, Bare the mean heart that lurks beneath a star; Can there be wanting, to defend her cause, Lights of the church or guardians of the laws? Could pension'd Boileau lash in honest strain Flatterers and bigots ev'n in Louis' reign? Could laureat Dryden pimp and friar engage, Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage? And I not strip the gilding off a knave, Unplac'd, unpension'd, no man's heir or slave? I will, or perish in the generous cause: Hear this and tremble! you who 'scape the laws. Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave Shall walk the world in credit to his grave: To Virtue only and her friends a friend, The world beside may murmur or commend. Know, all the distant din that world can keep, Rolls o'er my grotto, and but soothes my sleep.There my retreat the best companions grace, 125 Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place: There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The feast of reason and the flow of soul: And he whose lightning pierc'd th' Iberian lines, Now forms my quincunx, and now ranks my Or tames the genius of the stubborn plain, Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain. Envy must own I live among the great, No pimp of pleasure, and no spy of state, With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats, Fond to spread friendships, but to cover heats: 136 To help who want, to forward who excel; vines; This all who know me, know; who love me, tell; 131 140 |