All as a partridge plump, full-fed and fair,
She form'd this image of well-bodied air;
With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head;
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead:
And empty words she gave, and sounding strain,
But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!
Never was dash'd out at one lucky hit,
A fool, so just a copy of a wit;

So like, that critics said, and courtiers swore,
A wit it was, and call'd the phantom More.

All gaze with ardour: some a poet's name,
Others a sword-knot and laced suit inflame.

REMARKS.

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Ver. 47. Never was dash'd out, at one lucky hit,] Our author here seems willing to give some account of the possibility of Dulness making a wit (which could be done no other way than by chance). The fiction is the more reconciled to probability by the known story of Apelles, who, being at a loss to express the foam of Alexander's horse, dashed his pencil in despair at the picture and happened to do it by that fortunate stroke.

Ver. 50.-and call'd the phantom More.] Curll, in his Key to the Dunciad, affirmed this to be James Moore Smith, Esq. and it is probable (considering what is said of him in the testimonies) that some might fancy our author obliged to represent this gentleman as a plagiary, or to pass for one himself. His case, indeed, was like that of a man I have heard of, who, as he was sitting in company, perceived his next neighbour had stolen his handkerchief; sir, said the thief, finding himself detected, do not expose me; I did it for mere want. Be so good but to take it privately out of my pocket again, and say nothing.' The honest man did so, but the other cried out, "See, gentlemen, what a thief we have among us! Look, he is stealing my handkerchief!"

Some time before, he had borrowed of Dr. Arbuthnot a paper called a Historico-physical account of the South Sea; and of Mr. Pope, the Memoirs of a Parish Clerk, which for two years he kept, and read to the Rev. Dr. Young, F. Billers, Esq. and many others, as his own. Being applied to for them, he pretended they were lost; but there happening to be another copy of the letter, it came out in Swift's and Pope's Miscellanies. Upon this, it seems, he was so far mistaken as to confess his proceeding by an endeavour to hide it: unguardedly printing (in the Daily Journal of April 3, 1723), That the contempt which he and others had for those pieces,' (which only himself had shewn, and handed about as his own),'occasioned their being lost, and for that cause only not returned. A fact, of which as none but he could be conscious, none but he could be the publisher of it. The plagiarisms of this person gave occasion to the following epigram:

Moore always smiles whenever he recites;

He smiles (you think) approving what he writes.
And yet in this no vanity is shewn;

A modest man may like what's not his own.'

This young gentleman's whole misfortune was too inordinate a passion to be thought a wit. Here is a very strong instance at

But lofty Lintot in the circle rose:

This prize is mine; who tempt it are my foes;
With me began this genius, and shall end.'
He spoke; and who with Lintot shall contend?
Fear held them mute. Alone, untaught to fear,
Stood dauntless Curll: Behold that rival here!
The race by vigour, not by vaunts, is won:
So take the hindmost, Hell!' he said, and run.

REMARKS.

tested by Mr. Savage, son of the late Earl Rivers: who having shewn some verses of his in manuscript to Mr. Moore, wherein Mr. Pope was called first of the tuneful train, Mr. Moore the next morning sent to Mr. Savage to desire him to give those verses another turn, to wit, 'That Pope might now be the first, because Moore had left him unrivalled, in turning his style to comedy." This was during the rehearsal of the Rival Modes, his first and only work; the town condemned it in the action, but he printed it in 1726-7, with this modest motto:

Hic cæstus, artemque repono.

The smaller pieces which we have heard attributed to this author are, An Epigram on the Bridge at Blenheim, by Dr. Evans; Cosmelia, by Mr. Pit, Mr. Jones, &c.; The Mock Marriage of a mad Divine, with a Cl-for a Parson, by Dr. W.; The Saw-pit, a Simile, by a friend; Certain Physical Works on Sir James Baker; and some unowned Letters, Advertisements, and Epigrams against our author in the Daily Journal.

Notwithstanding what is here collected of the person imagined by Curll to be meant in this place, we cannot be of that opinion; since our poet had certainly no need of vindicating half a dozen verses to himself, which every reader had done for him: since the name itself is not spelled Moore, but More; and, lastly, since the learned Scriblerus has so well proved the contrary.

Ver. 50.-the phantom More.] It appears from hence, that this is not the name of a real person, but fictitious. More from

poc, stultus, popia, stultitia, to represent the folly of a pla giary. Thus Erasmus: Admonuit me Mori cognomen tibi, quod tam ad Morie vocabulum accedit quam es ipse a re alienus. Dedication of Moria Encomium to Sir Thomas More; the farewell of which may be our author's to his plagiary, Vale, More! et moriam tuam guaviter defende. Adieu, More! and be sure strongly to defend thy own folly.-Scribl.

Ver. 53. But lofty Lintot-]. We enter here upon the episode of the booksellers; persons, whose names being more known and famous in the learned world than those of the authors in this poem, do therefore need less explanation. The action of Mr. Lintot here imitates that of Dares in Virgil, rising just in this manner to lay hold on a bull. This eminent bookseller printed the Rival Modes before mentioned.

Ver. 58. Stood dauntless Curll:] We come now to a character of much respect, that of Mr. Edmund Curll. As a plain repetition of great actions is the best praise of them, we shall only say of this eminent man, that he carries the trade many lengths beyond what it ever before had arrived at; and that he was the envy and admiration of all his profession. He possessed himself of a command over all authors whatever: he caused them to

Swift as a bard the bailiff leaves behind,

He left huge Lintot, and out-stripp'd the wind.
As when a dab-chick waddles through the copse
On feet and wings, and flies, and wades, and hops:
So labouring on, with shoulders, hands, and head,
Wide as a wind-mill all his figure spread,

With arms expanded Bernard rows his state,
And left-legg'd Jacob seems to emulate.

Full in the middle way there stood a lake

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Which Curll's Corinna chanced that morn to make:
(Such was her wont, at early dawn to drop
Her evening cates before his neighbour's shop)
REMARKS.

write what he pleased; they could not call their very names their own. He was not only famous among these; he was taken notice of by the state, the church, and the law, and received particular marks of distinction from each.

It will be owned that he is here introduced with all possible dignity. He speaks like the intrepid Diomede; he runs like the swift-footed Achilles: if he falls, 'tis like the beloved Nisus; and (what Homer makes to be the chief of all praises) he is favoured of the gods; he says but three words, and his prayer is heard; a goddess conveys it to the seat of Jupiter: though he loses the prize, he gains the victory; the great mother herself comforts him, she inspires him with expedients, she honours him with an immortal present (such as Achilles receives from Thetis, and Eneas from Venus), at once instructive and prophetical: after this he is unrivalled, and triumphant.

The tribute our author here pays him is a grateful return for several unmerited obligations: many weighty animadversions on the public affairs, and many excellent and diverting pieces on private persons, has he given to his name. If ever he owed two verses to any other, heowed Mr. Curll some thousands. He was every day extending his fame, and enlarging his writings: witness innumerable instances; but it shall suffice only to mention the Court Poems, which he meant to publish as the work of the true writer, a lady of quality; but being first threatened, and afterward punished for it by Mr. Pope, he generously transferred it from her to him, and ever since printed it in his name. The single time that ever he spoke to C. was on that affair; and to that happy incident he owed all the favour since received from him: so true is the saying of Dr. Sydenham,' that any one shall be, at some time or other, the better or the worse, for having but seen or spoken to a good or bad man.'

Ver. 70.-Curil's Corinna-] This name, it seems, was taken by one Mrs. Thomas, who procured some private letters of Mr. Pope, while almost a boy, to Mr. Cromwell, and sold them, without the consent of either of those gentlemen, to Curll, who printed them in 12mo. 1727. He discovered her to be the publisher, in his Key, p. 11. We only take this opportunity of mentioning the manner in which those letters got abroad, which the author was ashamed of as very trivial things, full not only of levities, but of wrong judgments of men and books, and only excusable from the youth and inexperience of the write r..

Here fortuned Curll to slide; loud shout the band,
And Bernard! Bernard! rings thro' all the Strand).
Obscene with filth the miscreant lies bewray'd,
Fall'n in the plash his wickedness had laid:
Then first (if poets aught of truth declare)
The caitiff vaticide conceived a prayer:

Hear, Jove! whose name my bards and I adore,
As much at least as any god's, or more;
And him and his if more devotion warms,
Down with the Bible, up with the pope's arms.'

A place there is, betwixt earth, air, and seas,
Where, from ambrosia, Jove retires for ease..
There in his seat two spacious vents appear,
On this he sits, to that he leans his ear,
And hears the various vows of fond mankind;
Some beg an eastern, some a western wind;
All vain petitions, mounting to the sky,
With reams abundant this abode supply;
Amused he reads, and then returns the bills
Sign'd with that ichor which from gods distills.
In office here fair Cloacina stands,

And ministers to Jove with purest hands.

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Forth from the heap she pick'd her votary's prayer,
And placed it next him, a distinction rare!
Oft had the goddess heard her servant's call,
From her black grottos near the Temple-wall,
Listening delighted to the jest unclean
Of link-boys vile, and watermen obscene;
Where, as he fish'd her nether realms for wit,
She oft had favour'd him, and favours yet.
Renew'd by ordure's sympathetic force,
As oil'd with magic juices for the course,
Vigorous he rises; from th' effluvia strong,
Imbibes new life, and scours and stinks along;
Re-passes Lintot, vindicates the race,

Nor heeds the brown dishonours of his face.

And now the victor stretch'd his eager hand Where the tall nothing stood, or seem'd to stand;

REMARKS.

Ver. 82. Down with the Bible, up with the pope's arms.] The Bible, Curll's sign; the Cross Keys, Lintot's.

Ver. 101. Where, as he fish'd, &c. See the preface to Swift's and Pope's Miscellanies.

A shapeless shade, it melted from his sight,
Like forms in clouds, or visions of the night.
To seize his papers, Curll, was next thy care;
His papers light, fly diverse, toss'd in air;
Songs, sonnets, epigrams, the winds uplift,
And whisk 'em back to Evans, Young, and Swift.
Th' embroider'd suit at least he deem'd his prey,
That suit an unpaid tailor snatch'd away.
No rag, no scrap, of all the beau or wit,

That once so flutter'd, and that once so writ.

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Heaven rings with laughter: of the laughter vain, Dulness, good queen, repeats the jest again. Three wicked imps, of her own Grub-street choir, She deck'd like Congreve, Addison, and Prior; Mears, Warner, Wilkins, run! delusive thought! Breval, Bond, Besaleel, the varlets caught.

REMARKS.

Ver. 116.-Evans, Young, and Swift.] Some of those persons, whose writings, epigrams, or jests he had owned. See note on

ver. 50.

Ver.118. an unpaid tailor-] This line has been loudlycomplained of in Mist, June 8, Dedic. to Sawney, and others, as a most inhuman satire on the poverty of poets: but it is thought our author will be acquitted by a jury of tailors. To me this instance seems unluckily chosen; if it be a satire on any body, it must be on a bad pay-master, since the person to whom they have here applied it, was a man of fortune. Not but poets may well be jealous of so great a prerogative as non-payment; which Mr. Dennis so far asserts, as boldly to pronounce, that, if Homer himself was not in debt, it was because nobody would trust him.'-Pref to Rem. on the Rape of the Lock, p. 15.

Ver. 124. like Congreve, Addison, and Prior;] These authors being such whose names will reach posterity, we shall not give any account of them, but proceed to those of whom it is necessary.-Besaleel Morris was author of some satires on the translation of Homer, with many other things printed in newspapers -Bond writ a Satire against Mr. P. Capt. Breval was author of The Confederates, an ingenious dramatic performance, to expose Mr. P. Mr. Gay, Dr. Arbuthnot, and some ladies of quality,' says Curll, Key, p. 11.

Ver. 125. Mears, Warner, Wilkins,] Booksellers and printers of much anonymous stuff.

Ver. 126. Breval, Bond, Besaleel,] I foresee it will be objected from this line, that we were in an error in our assertion on ver. 50 of this book, that More was a fictitious name, since those persons are equally represented by the poet as phantoms. So at first sight it may be seen; but be not deceived, reader; these also are not real persons. Tis true, Curll declares Breval a captain, author of a piece called The Confederates; but the same Curll first said it was written by Joseph Gay. Is his second assertion to be credited any more than his first! He likewise affirms Bond to be one who writ a satire on our poet; but where was such a