that Person's reputation. And all this, with as little provocation from Mr. Pope's conduct in his poetic, as in his civil character. For though he had got a Name (the reputation of which he agreeably rallies, in the description he gives of it) yet he never, even when most in fashion, set up fora Patron, or a Dictator amongst the Wits; but still kept retired in his usual privacy; leaving the whole Caffalian state, as he calls it, to a Mock Mecenas, whom he next describes (ver. 124. to 261.) And, ftruck with the sense of that dignity and eae which fupport the character of a true Poet, he breaks out into a paffionate vow for a continuance of the full Liberty inseparable from it. And to shew how well he deferves it, and how safely he might be trusted with it, he concludes his wish with a description of his temper and disposition (ver 26e to 271.) This naturally leads him to complain of his Friends, when they consider him in no other view than that of an Author; as if he had neither the same right to the enjoyments of life, the same concern for his highest interests, or the fame dispositions of bene. volence, with other people. Besides, he now admonishes them, in his turn, that they do not confider to what they expose him, when they urge him to write on; namely, to the fufpicions and the displeasure of a Court; who are made to believe, he is always writing; or at least to the foolish criticisms of court-sycophants, who pretend to find him, by his style, in the immoral libels of every idle scribler: though he, in the mean time, be so far from countenancing such worthless trash in others, that he would be ready to execrate even his own best vein of poetry, if made at the expence of Truth and Innocence: "Curft be the verse, how well foe'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe: Or from the foft-ey'd Virgin steal a tear." Sentiments, which no effort of genius, without the concurrence of the heart, could have expressed in strains so exquifitely fublime. That the fole object of his resentment was vice and bafeness: In the detection of which, he artfully takes occafion to speak of that by which he himself had been injured and offended: and concludes with the character of One who had wantonly outraged him, and in the most sensible manner (ver. 270 to 334.) And here, moved again with fresh indignation at his slanderers, he takes the advice of Horace, fume fuperbiam quafitam meritis, and draws draws a fine picture of his moral and poetic conduct through life. In which he shews that not fame, but VIRTUE, was the conftant object of his ambition: that for this he opposed himself to all the violence of Cabals, and the treacheries of Courts: the various iniquities of which having distinctly specified, he sums them up in that moft atrocious and sensible of all (ver. 333 to 360.), "The whisper, that to greatness still too near, But here again his Friend interrupts the strains of his divine en. thusiasm; and defires him to clear up one objection made to his Conduct at Court. "That it was inhumane to infult the Poor, and ill breeding to affront the Great." To which he replies, That indeed in his pursuit of Vice, he rarely corsidered how Knavery was circumstanced; but followed it, with his vengeance, indifferently, whether it led to the Pillory, or the Drawing-Room (ver 359 to 363.). But left this should give his Reader the idea of a savage in. tractable virtue, which could bear with nothing, and would pardon nothing, he takes to himself the shame of owning that he was of so easy a nature, as to be duped by the flenderest appearances ; a pretence to virtue in a witty woman: so forgiving, that he had fought out the object of his beneficence in a personal enemy: fo humble, that he had fubmitted to the conversation of bad poets : and fo forbearing, that he had curbed in his resentment under the moft fhocking of all provocations, abuses on his Father and Mother (ver. 367 to 388.). This naturally leads him to give a short account of their births, fortunes, and dispositions; which ends with the tenderest wishes for the happiness of his Friend; intermixed with the most pathetic description of that filial Piety, in the exercise of which he makes his own happiness to confift: "Me, let the tender office long engage Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, And keep a while one Parent from the sky!" And And now this incomparable Poem, which holds so much of the DRAMA, and opens with all the disorder and vexation that every kind of impertinence and slander could occasion, concludes with the utmost calmness and ferenity, in the retired enjoyment of all the tender offices of FRIENDSHIP and PIETY (ver. 387 to the End). WARBURTON. In this kind of writing, Pope is unrivalled; the Imitation has all the air of an original, and is at once lively, pointed, and happy. One Imitation from Horace has been, for obvious reasons, rejected. I must ever feel regret, that my late respected master was so inconfiderate as to admit it in his Edition. Pope certainly never owned it. How indeed could he own a production written in his earlier day, which "called virtue, hypocrite;" and was doubly odious, as coming from a man who professed, with fuch parade, "In virtue's cause to draw the Pen!" It were also to be wished, that charity had induced him a moment to paufe, before he published fome lines, which no provocation from woman to man could justify: I need not point them out. Let us also remember, that Satire in verse must be deliberate, and therefore is less excusable. I am not attempting to plead the cause of affected candour; but of those feelings, which distinguish the man, and the gentleman. EPISTLE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT, BEING THE PROLOGUE TO THE SATIRES. P.SHUT, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd I faid, The Dog-ftar rages! nay, 'tis past a doubt, NOTES. 5 What VER. I. Shut, Shut the door, good John!] John Searl, his old and faithful fervant; whom he has remembered, under that character, in his Will: of whose fidelity Dodsley, from his own observation, used to mention many pleasing instances. His wife was living at Eccleshall, 1783, ninety years old, and knew many anecdotes of Pope. WARTON. VER. 1. Shut, Shut the door,] This abrupt exordium is animated and dramatic. Our Poet, wearied with the impertinence and flander of a multitude of mean scriblers that attacked him, suddenly breaks out with this spirited complaint of the ill-ufage he had fuftained. This piece was published in the year 1734, in the form of an Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot: It is now given as a Dialogue, in which a very small share indeed is allotted to his friend. Arbuthnot was a man of confummate probity, integrity, and sweetness of temper: he had infinitely more learning than Pope or Swift, and as much wit and humour as either of them. He was an excellent mathematician and physician, of which his letter on the Ufeful What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my Thickets, through my Grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. Io Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me: Is there a Parfon much be-mus'd in beer, 15 A Clerk, NOTES. ness of Mathematical Learning, and his Treatise on Air and Aliment, are fufficient proofs. His tables of ancient coins, weights, and measures, are the work of a man intimately acquainted with ancient history and literature, and are enlivened with many curious and interesting particulars of the manners and ways of living of the ancients. The History of John Bull, the best parts of the Memoirs of Scriblerus, the Art of Political Lying, the Freeholder's Catechifm, It cannot rain but it pours, &c. abound in strokes of the most exquifite humour. It is known that he gave numberless hints to Swift, and Pope, and Gay, of fome of the most striking parts of their works. He was so neglectful of his writings that his children tore his manuscripts and made paper-kites of them. Few letters in the English language are so interesting, and contain fuch marks of Christian refignation and calmness of mind, as one that he wrote to Swift a little before his death, and is inferted in the third volume of Letters, p. 157. He frequently, and ably, and warmly, in many conversations, defended the cause of revelation against the attacks of Bolingbroke and Chesterfield. WARTON. VER. 13. Mint] A place to which infolvent debtors retired, to enjoy an illegal protection, which they were there fuffered to afford to one another, from the perfecution of their creditors. WARBURTON. |