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The morals blacken'd when the writings 'scape,
The libel'd person, and the pictur'd shape;
Abuse, on all he lov'd, or lov'd him, spread,
A friend in exile, or a father, dead;

The whifper, that to greatness fill too near,
Perhaps, yet vibrates on his Sov'Reign's ear-
Welcome for thee, fair Virtue! all the past :
For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev’n the last!

· A. But why insult the poor, affront the great? 350
P. A knave's a knave, to me, in ev'ry ftate:
Alike my fcorn, if he succeed or fail,
Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail,
A hireling seribler, or a hireling peer,
Knight of the poft corrupt, or of the fhire; 365
If on a Pillory, or near a Throne,
He gain his Prince's ear, or lose his own.

VER. 354. Abuse, on all be low'd, or lov'd bim, Spread,] Namely on the Duke of Buckingham, the Earl of Burlington, Lord Bathurst, Lord Bolingbroke, Bishop Atterbury, Dr. Swift, Dr. Arbuthnot,. Mr. Gay, his Friends, his Parents, and his very Nurse, aspersed in printed papers, by James Moore, G. Ducket, L. Welfted, Tho. Bentley, and other obscure persons.

VER. 357. Perbeps, yet vibrates] What force and elegance of expression! which, in one word, conveys to us the physical effects of found, and the moral effects of an often repeated fcandal.

Ver. 359. For thee, fair Virtue! welcome ev’n the last !] This line is remarkable for prefenting us with the most amiable image of iteady Virtue, mixed with a modeft concern for his being forced to undergo the severeft proofs of his love for it, which was the being thought hardly of by his SOVEREIGN.

Yet soft by nature, more a dupe than wit, Sappho can tell you how this man was bit : This dreaded Sat'rift Dennis will confess 370 Foe to his pride, but friend to his distress: So humble, he has knockd at Tibbald's door, Has drunk with Cibber, nay has rhym'd for Moor. Full ten years Nander'd, did he once reply? Three thousand funs went down on Welted's lye. To please a Mistress one aspers’d his life : He lash'd him not, but let her be his wife : Let Budgel charge low Grubstreet on his quill, And write whate'er he pleas'd, except his Will;


Ver. 368. in the MS.

Once, and but once, his heedless youth was bit,
And lik'd that dang'rous thing, a female wit :
Safe as he thought, tho' all the prudent chid ;
He writ no Libels, but my Lady did :
Great odds in am'rous or poetic game,

Where Woman's is the fin, and Man's the shame. VIR. 374. ten years] It was so long after many libels before the Author of the Dunciad published that poem, till when, he never writ a word in answer to the many fcurrilities and falsehoods concerning him.

VER. 375. Welfted's lye.) This man had the impudence to tell in print, that Mr. P. had occafioned a Lady's death, and to name a person he never heard of. He also published that he libell'd the Duke of Chandos; with whom, (it was added) that he had lived in familiarity, and received from him a present of five bundred pounds: the falsehood of both which is known to his Grace. Mr. P. never received any present, farther than the sub. scription for Homer, from him, or from any great Man whatsoever, ,

VIR. 378. Let Budgel] Budgel, in a weekly pamphlet called che Bee, bestowed much abuse on him, in the imagination that he

Let the two Curls of town and Court, abuse
His father, mother, body, soul, and muse,





writ some things about the Last Will of Dr. Tindal, in the Grube Areet Journal ; a Paper wherein he never had the least hand, direction, or supervisal, nor the leaft knowledge of its Author.

VÆR. 379. except bis Will;] Alluding to Tindal's Will: by which, and other indirect practices, Budgel, to the exclufion of the next heir, a nephew, got to himself almost the whole fortune of a man entirely unrelated to him.

VIR. 381, His fatber, mother, &c.] In some of Curl's and other pamphlets, Mr. Pope's father was said to be a Mechanic, a Hatter, a Farmer, nay a Bankrupt. But, what is stranger, a No. bleman (if such a reflection could be thought to come from a Nobleman) had dropt an allusion to that pitiful untruth, in a paper call'a an Epistle to a Doctor of Divinity: And the following line,

Hard as thy Heart, and as thy Birth obscure, had fallen from a like Courtly pen, in certain Verses to tbe Imitator of Horace. Mr. Pope's Father was of a Gentleman's Family in Oxfordshire, the head of which was the Earl of Downe, whose fole Heiress married the Earl of Lindsey–His mother was the daughter of William 'Turnor, Esq. of York: She had three brothers, one of whom was killed, another died in the service of King Charles; the eldeft following his fortunes, and becoming a general officer in Spain, left her what eftate remained after the sequestrations and forfeitures of her family—Mr. Pope died in 1717, aged 75; She in 1733. aged 93, a very few weeks after this poem was finished. The following inscription was placed by their son on their Monu. ment in the parish of Twickenham, in Middlesex.

D. O. M.


ET, SI31.



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Yet why? that Father held it for a rule,
It was a fin to call our neighbour fool:
That harmless Mother thought no wife a whore:
Hear this, and spare his family, Fames Moore! 385
Unspotted names, and memorable long!
If there be force in Virtue, or in Song.

Of gentle blood (part fhed in Honour's cause,
While yet in Britain Honour had applause)
Each parent fprung-A. What fortune, pray-
P. Their own,

390 And better got, than Bestia's from the throne. Born to no Pride, inheriting no Strife, Nor marrying Discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious thro' his age. 395 No Courts he faw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an Qath, nor hazarded a Lye.

VER. 390. A. Wbat fortune, pray?] His friend's perfonating sbe Town in this place, and assuming its impertinent curiosity, gives great spirit to the ridicule of the question.- Julian has a parallel Atroke, in his sarcastic discourse to the people of Antioch, where he tells them a story out of Plutarch, concerning Cato; who, when he came near their City, found their youth ander arms, and the magiftrates in their robes of office. Ons which alighting, in an ill humour with his friends, who he imagired had informed them of his approach, the master of the ceremonies came up, and, advancing before the company, accosted him in this manner; Stranger, how far off is Deme. “ trius?” Now this Demetrius (says Julian) was one of Pompey's freedmen, and immensely rich. You will ask me what he was worth; for I know norbing so likely to excite your curiosity. Why, truly, for this, you must consult Demopbilas tbe Bithynian, wbose secdotes tr:rn chiefly upon subjects of this bigh importance,

Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's fubtile art,
No language, but the language of the heart.
By Nature honeft, by Experience wise,

Healthy by temp'rance, and by exercise;
His life, tho' long, to sickness paft unknown,
His death was inftant, and without a groan.
O grant me, thus to live, and thus to die!

404 Who sprung from Kings fhall know less joy than I.

O Friend! may each domestic bliss be thine !
Be no unpleasing Melancholy mine:
Me, let the tender office long engage,
To rock the cradle of repofing Age,
With lenient arts extend a Mother's breath,

Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of Death,
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep a while one parent from the sky!
On cares like these if length of days attend,
May Heav'n, to bless those days, preserve my friend,
Preserve him social, chearful, and serene,

And just as rich as when he serv'd a Queen.
A. Whether that blessing be deny'd or givin,
Thus far was right, the rest belongs to Heav'n.

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After VER. 405. in the MS.

And of myself, too, something must I say?
Take then this verse, the trife of a day.
And if it live, it lives but to commend
The man whose heart has ne'er forgot a friend,
Or head, an Author : Critic, yet polite,
And friend to Learning, yet too wise to writca

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