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REMARKS ON Mr. POPE'S Rape of the LOCK.

IN Several LETTERS to a FRIEND.

With a PREFACE, Occaſion'd by the late Treatiſe on the PROFUND, and the DUNCIAD.

By Mr. DENNIS.

LONDON, Printed for J. ROBERTS, at the Oxford Arms in Warwick-Lane. 1728. [Price 1s.]

To the Honourable George Duckett, Eſq

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SIR,

AS ſoon as I had reſolved to addreſs the following Treatiſe to one of the Gentlemen who was abuſed, together with myſelf, in the late infamous Libel, more than one Motive induced me to [] make Choice of You: For as no one was ſo flagrantly injur'd as Yourſelf, the infamous Aſperſion was ſo open and ſo manifeſt, that there remained not the leaſt Doubt who was the Perſon meant by it. An Inſinuation equally baſe and groundleſs, which could have enter'd into the Head of no one who had either Senſe, Honour, or Nature in him; into the Head of no one, but one whoſe Mind was equally out of Nature, and equally crooked and deformed with his Body. This baſe Inſinuation was not only contrary to Truth and Juſtice, but even contrary to common Fame; for You are known [] to have that Reſpect, Eſteem, and Affection for the moſt beautiful Part of the Creation, which God and Nature deſign'd we ſhould have: But You have Qualities to recommend You to them, which have not been given to all, as Truth, Faith, Honour, Juſtice, and a Converſation, at the ſame time, entertaining, and inſtructing: Theſe are Qualities which have recommended You to a very fine Lady, to whom You have been married many Years, and by whom You have had Eight Children, who are now living: And theſe are Qualities, which, as they have gain'd You the Affections of the Fair Sex, [] have equally recommended You to the Eſteem and Reſpect of Ours; and more particularly of,

SIR,
Your moſt humble, and moſt obedient Servant, JOHN DENNIS.

PREFACE.

[iii]

IT was towards the latter End of the Reign of Queen ANNE that I wrote Remarks upon the firſt hundred Lines of the late Tranſlation of Homer, upon the Windſor Foreſt, upon the Rape of the Lock, and upon the infamous Temple of Fame, provok'd and urg'd to it by the Folly, the Pride, and the Petulancy of that little Gentleman A. P-E; Qualities which at that Time made me foreſee and foretell, that there was no Perſon whatever whom he apprehended to be above him, whether by Station, Power, or Merit, but he would come impudently one Day to fly in his Face, if timely Care were not taken to chaſtiſe and correct his ſoaring Inſolence.

It was in the Beginning of the Reign of the late KING that I order'd three of the foremention'd Treatiſes to be publiſh'd, viz. Remarks [iv] on the Tranſlation of Homer, on Windſor Foreſt, and on the Temple of Fame; which was done with a Deſign to hold a faithful Glaſs to this little Gentleman, and to cure him of his vain and his wretched Conceitedneſs, by giving him a View of his Ignorance, his Folly, and his natural Impotence, the undoubled Cauſes of ſo many Errors and ſo many Imperfections.

But at the ſame Time that I order'd three of them to be publiſh'd, I took care to keep back the enſuing Treatiſe purpoſely in Terrorem; which had ſo good an Effect, that he endeavour'd for a time to counterfeit Humility and a ſincere Repentance: And about that Time I receiv'd a Letter from him, which I have ſtill by me, in which he acknowledg'd his Offences paſt, and expreſs'd an hypocritical Sorrow for them.

But no ſooner did he believe that Time had caus'd theſe Things to be forgot, than he relaps'd into ten times the Folly and the Madneſs that ever he had ſhewn before. He not only attack'd ſeveral Perſons of far greater Merit than himſelf, but, like a mad Indian that runs a muck, ſtruck at every Thing that came in his Way, without Diſtinction of Friend or Foe, Acquaintance or Stranger, Merit or Unworthineſs, Wiſdom or Folly, Vice or Virtue; like a blind Beetle, that in its blundering Flight bruiſes itſelf againſt every Object it meets, and [v] does not fail to knock itſelf down by the impotent Blows which it gives to others.

He has not only ſtruck at very different Perſons, without any manner of Diſtinction, but has thrown his rhetorical Flowers, of Fool, Dunce, Blockhead, Scoundrel, promiſcuouſly at them all; as if he wiſely thought, that he was the only foul-mouth'd Fellow in England, or had ſo much of the Fool, Blockhead, Dunce, Scoundrel within him, that they have the ſame Effect on his Mind that Jaundice would have upon his Eyes, and make every Thing without him be to him in Appearance, what in Reality is within him.

Nothing is more eaſy than to give foul Language, which a Fool is more capable of giving to a wiſe Man, than a wiſe Man to a Fool; becauſe nothing incapacitates a Man ſo much for it as good Senſe, good Nature, good Breeding, and common Diſcretion; and nothing qualifies a Man more for it, than his being a Clown, a Fool, a Barbarian, and a Brute. The calling a Man Fool, Dunce, Blockhead, Scoundrel, if it does not find him ſo, it does by no means make him ſo. But if it does not find him ſo, it gives him who calls him ſo, an unqueſtionable Title to thoſe Terms himſelf. As this is the Language of the Rabble of Mankind, the more any one brings himſelf to uſe it, the more he ſets himſelf upon an infamous Level with the Scum and Off-ſcouring of Things.

[vi] Before I take my leave of this Subject, I cannot help reminding this little Gentlemen, en paſſant, that tho' his Adverſaries were as many Fools, Blockheads, Dunces, as he is pleas'd, in Hononr to them, to call them; yet is he moſt unjuſt, and moſt ungrateful, to reflect upon any Perſons for their Want of Capacity: ſince 'tis to People who want Underſtanding that he owes moſt of his little Fortune and all his little Reputation. For I will venture to affirm, that Mr. A. P-E has no Admirers among thoſe who have Capacity to diſcern, to diſtinguiſh, and judge; and I will venture to foretell, that Time will make this Affirmation good.

Not but that I am oblig'd in Juſtice to own, that there are ſeveral Perſons of very great Merit who ſubſcrib'd to his Tranſlation of Homer; but then they were Perſons moſt of them who were induc'd to expect a very different Performance to what they found: And ſome were importun'd and teaz'd into that Subſcription, ſome were drawn in by their Complaiſance to their Friends, and others ſacrific'd their Judgment to their Intereſt.

The calling a Man of the beſt Underſtanding Fool, Dunce, Blockhead, is the eaſieſt Thing in the World (as we obſerv'd above) to him who is really all this himſelf: But for ſuch a one to prove what he ſays, is abſolutely impoſſible. Therefore in the Remarks abovemention'd, upon the Tranſlation of Homer, [vii] upon Windſor-Foreſt, upon the Temple of Fame, I have given none of theſe Appellations to the little facetious Gentleman at whom thoſe Pieces were levelled; but then I have prov'd in them, by convincing Reaſon and by undeniable Fact, that he has a greater Right to the Poſſeſſion and Property of them than any other Perſon in Great Britain whatever. I have ſhewn that he was equally a Stranger to the Character, the Language, and the Meaning of Homer; that nothing qualify'd him to enter the Liſts againſt Sir John Denham, but Impudence and Stupidity; and that the Temple of Fame, will, as long as 'tis remember'd, be to A. P-E the Temple of Infamy.

I propoſe to do the ſame Thing in the ſubſequent Remarks. I ſhall call him neither Fool, nor Dunce, nor Blockhead; but I ſhall prove that he is all theſe in a moſt egregious manner. 'Tis juſtly obſerv'd by the Duke of Rochfoucault, ‘That a Man may be a very great Fool notwithſtanding his Wit; but that he never can be ſo if he has Judgment: For Imagination is common to Man with Beaſts, but he enjoys Reaſon and Judgment in common with God and Angels.’ The impartial Reader, who knows the Rape of the Lock, and who will read the following Remarks, will be able to determine whether A. P-E has ſhewn one Dram of Judgment, either in the Choice of this trifling Subject, or of his more ſenſeleſs Machinery, or in the Manners and [viii] Behaviour of his fine Lady, who is ſo very rampant, and ſo very a Termagant, that a Lady in the Hundreds of Drury would be ſeverely chaſtis'd, if ſhe had the Impudence in ſome Company to imitate her in ſome of her Actions. The impartial Reader is to determine whether the Sentiments are not often exceeding poor, and mean, and ſometimes ridiculous; and whether the Diction is not often impure and ungrammatical.

But if the Author has not ſhewn one Dram of Judgment in the Piece that has been ſo much applauded by Readers more light than the Subject, what ſhall we ſay of the inſipid Profund? What ſhall we ſay of the fulſome Dunciad? Were they not writ in perfect Spight to good Senſe, to Decency, to Juſtice, to Gratitude, to Friendſhip, to Modeſty? And can ſuch a Creature as this be deſerving of the noble Name of a POET, the Name and the Function which he has ſo much blaſphem'd? Nay, can he deſerve even the Name of a Verſifyer, whoſe Ear is as injudicious and undiſtinguiſhing as the reſt of his Head? The Commendation which Taſſo ſo juſtly and ſo judiciouſly gives to Lucretius, is, Nobiliſſimo Verſificatore, a moſt noble Verſifyer: For Lucretius knew all the Variety, the Force, and the Power of Numbers; ſo that his Harmony in ſome Parts of him has never been ſurpaſs'd, not even by Virgil himſelf. But A. P-E has none of theſe diſtinguiſhing Talents, nor [ix] Variety, nor Force, nor Power of Numbers, but an eternal Monotony. His Pegaſus is nothing but a batter'd Kentiſh Jade, that neither ambles, nor paces, nor trots, nor runs, but is always upon the Canterbury; and as he never mends, never ſlackens his Pace, but when he ſtumbles or falls. So that having neither Judgment nor Numbers, he is neither Poet nor Verſifyer, but only an eternal Rhimer, a little conceited incorrigible Creature, that like the Frog in the Fable, ſwells and is angry becauſe he is not allow'd to be as great as the Ox.

But if Judgment, Reaſon, and Numbers are wanting to his Rhimes, if we take a View of his proſaick Rhapſodies, 'tis there a thouſand times worſe: Not only Judgment and Reaſon are wanting there; but Veracity, Integrity, Honour, and Faith are wanting. A. P-E ſets up for a Knight of the Poſt, a frank Affidavit-Man of Parnaſſus, falſifies Matter of Fact at Pleaſure, and invents the baſeſt Calumnies, to expoſe Men of Senſe to Fools. In the Height of his Profeſſions of Friendſhip for Mr. Addiſon, he could not bear the Succeſs of Cato, but prevails upon B. L. to engage me to write and publiſh Remarks upon that Tragedy: Which after I had done, A. P-E, the better to conceal himſelf from Mr. Addiſon and his Friends, writes and publiſhes a ſcandalous Pamphlet, equally fooliſh and villainous, in which he pretends that I was in the Hands [x] of a Quack who cures mad Men. So weak is the Capacity of this little Gentleman, that he did not know that he had done an odious Thing; an Action deteſted even by thoſe whom he fondly deſign'd to oblige by it. For Mr. Addiſon was ſo far from approving of it, that he engag'd Sir Richard Steele to write to me, and to aſſure me that he knew nothing of that Pamphlet till he ſaw it in Print, that he was very ſorry to ſee it, and that whenever he ſhould think fit to anſwer my Remarks on his Tragedy, he would do it in a manner to which I ſhould have no juſt Exception. Thus Mr. Addiſon acted like a Man of Honour, and like one who foreſaw what he himſelf had to expect from a Wretch who was capable of ſo much Baſeneſs. What he foreſaw and expected happen'd: A. P-E libell'd him in Manuſcript while he liv'd, and in Print after he died.

'Tis a ſure Sign that we live in a poor, undiſcerning, degenerate World, when one who has writ and acted as this little Gentleman has done, has been able to delude it ſo long. But as he got ſuch Favours by ungenerous Arts, he has work'd himſelf out of it, by his Weakneſs and his Baſeneſs, by which he has made, by a modeſt Computation, a Hundred Thouſand Enemies, and rais'd Indignation and Diſdain in the Breaſt of every generous and ſenſible Reader. He has not only attack'd ſuch Numbers of People at one Time as no one [xi] before him ever did in any Nation or any Age, but has groſly abus'd ſeveral very ingenious Men; and ſome of them for no other Reaſon but becauſe they had ſhewn an Underſtanding, and Diſcernment, and a Sagacity greatly ſuperior to his own: Among whom I am oblig'd, in Juſtice, to name Mr. Theobald, who by delivering Shakeſpear from the Injuries of Time, and of lazy, or ignorant and ſtupid Editors, has oblig'd all who are concern'd for the Reputation of ſo great a Genius, or for the Honour of Great Britain.

It was for no other Reaſon that he has libell'd Mr. Theobald, Mr. Phillips, and ſeveral others, than that they have ſurpaſs'd him. He has been ſo far from making that Diſtinction which he ought to have done, that his Malice has been levell'd moſt at thoſe who have moſt Merit; which is a certain Proof, that this little envious Creature knows nothing of the Nature of Satire, which can never exiſt where the Cenſures are not juſt. In that caſe the Verſifyer, inſtead of a Satiriſt, is a Lampooner, an infamous Libeller. None of the antient Satiriſts, neither Horace, nor Perſius, nor Juvenal, ever attack'd Merit: And Boileau declares, ‘That Merit is always precious to him; and that he has a greater Eſteem for Patru in the midſt of Indigence, than for one who has amaſs'd the greateſt Treaſure by baſe and unjuſtifiable Means.’ He did not only ſay this, but ſhew'd, by a very generous Action, that it was his real [xii] Sentiment. Patru had a very noble Library, conſiſting of a great Number of Volumes, and all of them very well choſen. He was reduc'd by his Circumſtances to part with this Library, in order to ſatisfy his Creditors. Boileau hearing of this, came and paid down the full Price for it, and never remov'd a Volume, but gave Patru the Enjoyment of the whole during the Remainder of his Life.

But the little Gentleman, who wrote the Dunciad and the Profund, does not only, with infinite Baſeneſs, reproach Authors with Poverty, who have deſerv'd a thouſand times better both of their Country and the Commonwealth of Learning, to both which he is an open and a mortal Enemy; but he has the Impudence to infer their Want of Merit from their Want of Fortune. At this rate, Spencer, the renowned Lord Bacon, Butler, and Otway were Dunces; and A. P-E, and Ned Howard, and two or three rich and noble Lords, are Poets and great Wits. At this rate Horace too was a Dunce, becauſe he was not only poor, before Auguſtus and his firſt Miniſter caſt a favourable Eye upon him, but his Poverty made him a Poet. Such is the Account that he gives of himſelf in the ſecond Epiſtle of Book II.

Quem dimiſêre Philippi
Deciſis humilem pennis, inopémque paterni
Et laris & fundi; paupertas impulit audax,
Ut verſus facerem.

[xiii] If Horace was poor, Virgil was not rich, before the ſame magnanimous Prince, and his wiſe and diſcerning Miniſter, took him into their Protection. Yet he was ſo far from contemning Poverty, that he rather had a Contempt for Riches: Witneſs what he makes Evander ſay to Aeneas, in the 8th Aeneid, when he introduces him into the homely Palace where Hercules had lain before.

Ut ventum ad ſedes; haec, inquit, limina victor
Alcides ſubiit; haec illum regia cepit.
Aude, hoſpes, contemnere opes, & te quoque dignum
Finge Deo, rebuſque veni non aſper egenis.

And in his Praiſe of a Country-Life, at the latter End of the ſecond Georgic, he ſeems to make Poverty the Foundation of the Roman Greatneſs.

Agricola incurvo terram dimovit aratro;
Hinc anni labor; hinc patriam, parvoſque nepotes
Suſtinet; hinc armenta boum, meritoſque juvencos.

Now what follows a little after this?

Hanc olim veteres vitam coluere Sabini,
Hanc Remus & frater; ſic fortis Etruria crevit,
Scilicet & rerum facta eſt pulcherrima Roma.

[xiv] Which his Friend Horace ſeems to have done before him, in the Ode to Auguſtus, Lib. I.

Regulum & Scauros, animaeque magnae
Prodigum paulum, ſuperante poena,
Dicam & inſigni referem Camoena,
Fabriciumque.
Hunc & incomptis curium capillis
Utilem bello tulit, & Camillum
Saeva paupertas, & avitus apto
Cum cure fundus.

This I will venture to ſay, that there never was a great Poet in the World but he had a Contempt for Riches. Of which Opinion likewiſe is Horace:

—Vatis avarus
Non temere eſt animus, verſus amat, hoc ſtudet unum.

And there never was a little Poetaſter, but he lov'd them, valu'd himſelf upon the Poſſeſſion of them, and did baſe Things to acquire and to augment them.

Nothing can ſhew any one more weak or more baſe, than to prefer Fortune to Merit, or vainly and vilely to endeavour to extol Fortune and to decry Merit. God has given extraordinary Merit to few, but he has ſubjected all to the Viciſſitudes of human Affairs, as well as to Diſeaſes [xv] and Death. The greateſt and moſt powerful of Monarchs are not exempted from the Power of Fortune, that is, from the unchangeable and irreſiſtible Decrees of Providence: Nay, the greater and more powerful any one is, the more deplorable Misfortunes is he ſubjected to. And therefore the Calamities of the Great generally ſupply the fitteſt Subjects for ſo noble a Poem as Tragedy.

Conſidering the Viciſſitude of human Affairs, Men of the greateſt Fortune and Power ought not to value themſelves upon either: But for this little Gentleman to ſtrut and be conceited upon his having a Hundred a Year, to pretend to look down upon thoſe whom he never had Capacity to look up to; to call their good Senſe and their Reaſoning Railing, becauſe neither of them are his Talent; to ſay he will anſwer what they urge againſt him when he is as much in Debt as they are, at the ſame time that he owes his little Subſtance to a vile Tranſlation of a poor but excellent Poet, who if he was not in Debt, it was becauſe no Body would truſt him: To do all this, entertains the Publick with the moſt ridiculous Farce in the World. Notwithſtanding this, as long as he writes ſo ſcandalouſly as he has lately done, in ſo degenerate an Age he will not be without Readers: For all Fools are fond of Scandal, becauſe all Fools are Levellers. But for the ſame Reaſons that he has their Approbation, he is contemn'd by Men of ſound Underſtanding.

[xvi] And now I appeal to every impartial ſenſible Reader, who ſhall have read this, and the following Remarks, and who has formerly read thoſe upon Homer, Windſor-Foreſt, and the Temple of Fame, if I have not prov'd, both by convincing Reaſon and by undeniable Fact, That A. P-E has himſelf a juſt and indefeaſible Right to all thoſe noble Appellations and Titles, which he ſo fooliſhly, and ſo wrongfully to himſelf and Company, ſquanders away upon others.

REMARKS ON THE Rape of the Lock.
In ſeveral LETTERS to a FRIEND.

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LETTER I.

SIR,

I SHALL now, according to my Promiſe, ſend you ſome Obſervations upon the Rape of the Lock, which is one of the laſt Imitations of the little mimicking Bard, and one of the moſt impertinent; to ſo high a Degree impertinent, that I am afraid of being [2] accus'd of writing a Satire upon Nothing, as my Lord Rocheſter wrote a Panegyrick.

The Faults of this ridiculous Poem begin at the Title-Page. I will not inſiſt upon the fantaſtical Compoſition of the Word HeroiComical; but I deſire Leave to dwell a little upon the Thing. What can this Author mean by creating in his Readers an Expectation of Pleaſantry, when there is not ſo much as one Jeſt in his Book? Of all Blockheads he is the moſt emphatically Dull, who, to an inſipid tedious Tale, prefixes this impertinent Prelude; Now, Gentlemen, expect a very good Jeſt! Now, my Maſters, prepare to laugh! Inſtead of Heroi-Comical, it ſhould have been Heroi Tragical, ſince it ſeems there was a Neceſſity for a fantaſtical Word: For there is a great deal of Tragedy in this Poem, but not one Jot of Comedy. But at the ſame Time there is nothing ſo Tragical in it, as what the Author deſigns for Comedy: For whenever he aims at a Jeſt, 'tis ſuch ſad deplorable Stuff, that he never fails to move Compaſſion by it.

But now, Sir, to paſs from the Title-Page to the Dedication; he need not have been at the Trouble of acquainting his fair Patroneſs, that he publiſh'd what he calls his Poem, before he had thought of what he calls his Machinery: For the Book would have told her that, without the Epiſtle. For what he calls [3] his Machinery has no Manner of Influence upon what he calls his Poem, not in the leaſt promoting, or preventing, or retarding the Action of it; as we ſhall ſhew more plainly when we come to treat of the Machines. He has taken his Machines, he tells us, from the Roſycrucians; and 'tis with them, he tells his fair Patroneſs, that he muſt bring her acquainted. And how bring her acquainted? Why, he muſt tell her what the Count de Gabalis ſays of them, who has given, it ſeems, the beſt Account that he knows of them. If he had not too much Pride, the natural neceſſary Conſequence of his Capacity, to be inſtructed; (for my Lord Roſcomon is certainly in the Right, when he tells us, that

Pride, of all others, the moſt dang'rous Fault,
Proceeds from Want of Senſe, or Want of Thought:)

I would direct him to a better Account of them, which is to be found in a Writer of our own, who is infinitely a better Judge both of Perſons and Things, than the fantaſtick Count de Gabalis: and That is the moſt ingenious and moſt judicious Author of Hudibras, who has given this ſhort Account of the Roſycrucians, in his Comment upon two Lines which are to be found in the Character of Ralpho, the facetious Squire of Hudibras, Canto I. Part 1. [4] and which two I have choſen for the Motto to theſe Letters.

In Roſycrucian Lore as learned
As he that verè Adeptus earned.

The ſhort Comment upon which is this:

The Fraternity of the Roſycrucians is very like the Sect of the antient Gnoſtici; who called themſelves ſo from the excellent Learning they pretended to, although they were really the moſt ridiculous Sots of all Mankind.

And then upon the Words Verè Adeptus, ſays he,

Verè Adeptus is one who has commenc'd in their Phanatick Extravagance.

Thus, if we will believe Butler, who, as we ſaid before, is an admirable Judge both of Books and of Mankind, this judicious Author of the Rape has taken what he calls his Machinery, from the Phanatick Extravagance of the moſt ridiculous of all modern Sots; as their Predeceſſors the Gnoſtici were the moſt contemptible ones of all the Antient; a Sect that is as becoming of this merry little Gentleman, as it was of the facetious Squire of Hudibras. And now tell me in good Earneſt, Sir, is not the Fair Lady infinitely oblig'd to him for her new Acquaintance? [5] an Acquaintance very unbecoming Her, tho' very becoming of Him.

Thus, Sir, have I done with the Title-Page and the Epiſtle. I ſhall proceed to Morrow upon the Body of the Book. In the mean time I will aſſure you for your Comfort, that you ſhall never have a Letter of above a Sheet of Paper at a Time upon this impertinent Subject. I am, Sir,

Your moſt Humble and Faithful Servant, JOHN DENNIS.

LETTER II.

SIR,

I HOPE mine of the firſt of this Month came to your Hands, which contain'd ſome Reflections upon the Dedication and TitlePage of the Rape of the Lock; which latter creates an Expectation of Pleaſantry in us, when there is not ſo much as one Jeſt in the Book.

Quanto rectius hic qui nil molitur ineptè?

[6] How much more judiciouſly does Boileau appear in the Title-Page of his Lutrin? In a ſottiſh Emulation of which, this and ſeveral late fantaſtick Poems appear both to you and me to have been writ. Boileau calls his Lutrin an Heroick Poem, and he is ſo far from raiſing an Expectation of Laughter, either in the Title, or in the Beginning of the Poem, that he tells Monſieur de Lamoignon, to whom he addreſſes it, that 'tis a grave Subject, and muſt be read with a grave Countenance.

Garde toy de rire en ce grave ſujet.
Lutrin, Chant. I.

Butler modeſtly calls his Poem, by the Name of his Hero, Hudibras; and without endeavouring to prepoſſeſs his Reader, leaves the Poem itſelf to work its natural Effect upon him.

But now, Sir, ſince I have ſaid that the Rape of the Lock ſeems to be writ in Imitation of the Lutrin, (I mean ſo far in Imitation, that the Author had a Mind to get Reputation by writing a great many Verſes upon an inconſiderable Subject, as Boileau appears to have done before him;) I believe it will not be diſagreeable to you, if I ſhew the Difference between the Lutrin and this fantaſtick Poem.

The Rape of the Lock is a very empty Trifle, without any Solidity or ſenſible Meaning; whereas the Lutrin is only a Trifle in [7] Appearance, but under that Appearance carries a very grave and very important Inſtruction: For if that Poem were only what it appears to be, Boileau would run counter to the fam'd Rule which he has preſcrib'd to others.

Auteurs, prêtez l' oreille à mes inſtructions,
Voulez vous faire aimer vos riches fictions?
Qu' en ſçavantes leçons votre muſe fertile,
Par tout joigne au plaiſant le ſolide & l' utile?
Un lecteur ſage fuit un vain amuſement,
Et veut mettre à profit ſon divertiſſement.

And which Horace has given before him.

Centuriae ſeniorum agitant expertia frugis:
Celſi praetereunt auſtera poemata Ramnes.
Omne tulit punctum qui miſcuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo.

And the Rule which my Lord Roſcomon has given for Tranſlations, is certainly more ſtrong for Originals.

Take then a Subject proper to expound,
But moral, great, and worth a Poet's Voice,
For Men of Senſe deſpiſe a trivial Choice,
And ſuch Applauſe it muſt expect to meet,
As would ſome Painter buſy'd in a Street
To copy Bulls, and Bears, and every Sign,
That calls the ſtaring Sots to naſty Wine.

[8] Now ſince 'tis impoſſible that ſo judicious an Author as Boileau ſhould run counter to his own, and to the Inſtructions of his Maſter Horace, the Lutrin at the Bottom cannot be an empty Trifle. 'Tis indeed a noble and important ſatirical Poem, upon the Luxury, the Pride, the Diviſions, and Animoſities of the Popiſh Clergy. 'Tis true indeed the admirable Addreſs of the Poet has made it in Appearance a Trifle; for otherwiſe it would not have been ſuffer'd in a bigotted Popiſh Country. But yet Boileau in ſome Places ſeems to have given broad Hints at what was his real Meaning; as in the following Paſſage.

La Deeſſe en entrant, qui voit la nappe miſe,
Admire un ſi bel ordre, & reconnoit l'egliſe.
Lutrin, Chant. I.

And this other Paſſage is ſtill more bold.

Pour ſoutenir tes droits, que le ciel autoriſe,
Abime tout plutôt, c' eſt l' eſprit de l'egliſe.
Lutrin, Chant. I.

As the Rape of the Lock is an empty Trifle, it can have no Fable nor any Moral; whereas the Lutrin has both Fable and Moral. 'Tis true, indeed, the Allegory under which that Moral is conceal'd, is not ſo perſpicuous as Boileau would have made it, if it had not been for the Apprehenſion of provoking the [9] Clergy. But, on the other Side, 'tis not ſo obſcure, but that a penetrating Reader may ſee through it. The Moral is, That when Chriſtians, and eſpecially the Clergy, run into great Heats about religious Trifles, their Animoſity proceeds from the Want of that Religion which is the Pretence of their Quarrel. The Fable is this; ‘Two Perſons being deſerted by true Piety, are embroil'd about a religious Trifle, to the Perplexity and Confuſion of them and theirs: Upon the Return of Piety, they agree to ſet aſide the Trifle about which they differ'd, and are reconcil'd, to the Quiet and Satisfaction both of themſelves and their Partizans.’

If you will be pleaſed to compare the Beginning of the Sixth Canto with the reſt of the Poem, you will eaſily ſee that this Account which I have given of the Lutrin is not without Foundation. But you know very well, Sir, that there is not the leaſt Shadow of a Moral or Fable in the Rape.

As nothing could be more ridiculous than the writing a full, an exact, and a regular Criticiſm upon ſo empty a Buſineſs as this trifling Poem; I will ſay but a Word or two concerning the Incidents, and ſo have done with what relates immediately to the Deſign. The Intention of the Author in writing this Poem, as we find in the Title-Page, is to raiſe the Mirth of the Reader; and we find by the Effects which Hudibras and the Lutrin produce [10] in us, that Butler and Boileau wrote with the ſame Intention. Now you know very well, Sir, that in a Poem which is built upon an Action, Mirth is chiefly to be rais'd by the Incidents. For Laughter in Comedy is chiefly to be excited, like Terror and Compaſſion in Tragedy, by Surprize, when Things ſpring from one another againſt our Expectation. Now whereas there are ſeveral ridiculous Incidents in the Lutrin, as, The Owl in the Pulpit frighting the nocturnal Champions; The Prelate's giving his Benediction to his Adverſary, by way of Revenge and Inſult; The Battle in the Bookſeller's Shop, &c. And whereas there are a thouſand ſuch in Hudibras; There is not ſo much as one, nor the Shadow of one, in the Rape of the Lock: Unleſs the Author's Friends will object here, That his perpetual Gravity, after the Promiſe of his Title, makes the whole Poem one continued Jeſt.

I am Your's, &c.

LETTER III.

[11]
SIR,

I COME now to the Characters and the Machines. The Characters in the Lutrin are well mark'd. They are the true Reſemblances of Men, of active Men, who purſue earneſtly what they are about. But there is no ſuch Thing as a Character in the Rape of the Lock. Belinda, who appears moſt in it, is a Chimera, and not a Character. She is repreſented by the Author perfectly beautiful and well-bred, modeſt and virtuous. Let us now ſee how he ſuſtains theſe Qualities in her, and then we ſhall diſcover what Taſte he has of Nature and of Decorum.

Firſt then he repreſents her perfectly beautiful:

Sol thro' white Curtains did his Beams diſplay,
And op'd thoſe Eyes which brighter ſhone than they.

And thus in the next Page the Sylphs accoſt her: [12]

Faireſt of Mortals, thou diſtinguiſh'd Care
Of thouſand bright Inhabitants of Air.

And yet in the latter End of this very Canto he makes her owe the greater Part of her Beauty to her Toilette:

Unnumber'd Treaſures ope at once, and here
The various Offerings of the World appear;
From each ſhe nicely culls with curious Toil,
And decks the Goddeſs with the glitt'ring Spoil,
This Casket India's glowing Gems unlocks,
And all Arabia breathes from yonder Box.
Now awful Beauty puts on all its Arms,
The Fair each Moment riſes in her Charms,
Repairs her Smiles, awakens every Grace,
And calls forth all the Wonders of her Face,
Sees by Degrees a purer Bluſh ariſe,
And keener Lightnings quicken in her Eyes.

Nay, the very favourite Lock, which is made the Subject for ſo many Verſes, is not ſhewn ſo deſirable for its native Beauty, as for the conſtant Artifice employ'd about it. Witneſs what Thaleſtris ſays to Belinda juſt after ſhe had loſt it:

Was it for this you took ſuch conſtant Care
The Bodkin, Comb, and Eſſence to prepare?
[13] For this your Locks in Paper Durance bound,
For this with torturing Irons wreath'd around?
For this with Fillets ſtrain'd your tender Head,
And bravely bore the double Loads of Lead?

Such Artifice muſt deface the Luſtre of Locks which were naturally lovely; and the Toilette muſt of Neceſſity detract from perfect Beauty. The Toilette indeed may add to ſome who are call'd Beauties, or to ſome who would be thought ſuch. A decay'd ſuperannuated Beauty may receive Advantage from her Toilette, may riſe in her Charms, and by the Help of Spaniſh Red, a purer Bluſh may ariſe. But her counterfeit Charms can pleaſe none who have a Taſte of Nature; according to that of Tibullus:

Heu ſerò revocatur amor, ſeròque juventa,
Cum vetus infecit cana ſenecta caput.
Tum ſtudium formae eſt, coma tùm mutatur ut annos
Diſſimulet, viridis cortice tincta nucis.

But for her who has Youth and Beauty;

Illa placet quamvis, inculto venerit ore,
Nec nitidum tardâ compſerit arte caput.

[14] Such a one wants neither Flounce nor Furbelow, nor torturing Irons, nor Paper Durance. When God and Nature deſign a Face to pleaſe, the Fair-one, on whom they beſtow it, can never add to Workmanſhip Divine. She may ſpoil it indeed by Induſtry, but can never improve it. They, who made it, alone know the certain Ways of going to the Heart of Man, and alone can give it thoſe reſiſtleſs inimitable Graces which Induſtry does but ſpoil, and which Artifice does but hide.

Horace was as fond of his Miſtreſs's Hair as any modern Lover can be: Witneſs what he ſays to Maecenas in the twelfth Ode of the ſecond Book;

Num tu, quae tenuit dives Achaemenes,
Aut pinguis Phrygiae Mygdonias opes
Permutare velis crine Licymniae,
Plenas aut Arabum Domos?

And yet as he and the reſt of the antient Poets had an admirable Taſte of Nature, they had quite another Taſte of Beauty than what this Author diſcovers; and believ'd that the brighteſt Ornament, either of the Hair or Face, was Simplicity and a becoming Negligence.

Cui flavam religas comam
Simplex munditiis?

Says Horace to Pyrrha, Ode V. Lib. 1.

[15] And in the eleventh Ode of Lib. 2.

Quis Devium ſcortum eliciet domo
Lyden? Eburna dic age cum lyrâ
Maturet, incomptam Lacenae
More comam religata nodum.

Terence, who every where ſo exactly imitates Nature, takes a quite different Courſe from this Author to ſhew a touching Beauty. The Paſſage is in the firſt Act of his Phormio:

Virgo pulchra! & quo magis diceres,
Nil ad erat adjumenti ad pulchritudinem:
Capillus paſſus, nudus pes, ipſa horrida:
Lacrymae, veſtitus turpis, ut ni vis boni
In ipſa ineſſet formâ, haec formam extinguerent.

Here was no Care, neither of Hair, nor Face, nor Shape, and yet how much more charming does this Terentian Virgin appear, ev'n in Rags and Miſery, than Belinda does at her Toilette? I mean to thoſe who have a Taſte of Nature. For ſhe, who ev'n in this miſerable Plight mov'd all Beholders with Pleaſure, and Antipho with Love, what might ſhe not juſtly be ſuppos'd to do, adorn'd with a cleanly Negligence and Simplicity? I ſay, adorn'd with them; for it may truly be ſaid of every accompliſh'd Beauty, what Taſſo ſays of one of his: [16]

Di natura, d' amor, del cielo amici,
Le negligenze ſue ſono artifici.

And our Ladies who ſpend ſo much Time at their Toilettes would do well to conſider, that, after all the Pains which they take in adorning themſelves, they who are moſt charm'd with their Perſons, endeavour to retrieve their natural Beauty in Imagination at leaſt, by diveſting them of their borrow'd Ornaments, and cloathing them in the Simplicity of the rural Habit, when in their Sonnets they transform them to Shepherdeſſes.

But the Author has not only ſhewn Belinda an accompliſh'd Beauty; he repreſents her likewiſe a fine, modeſt, well-bred Lady:

Favours to none, to all ſhe Smiles extends.
Canto II.

And a little below,

With graceful Eaſe and Sweetneſs, void of Pride.

And yet in the very next Canto ſhe appears an arrant Ramp and a Tomrigg;

The Nymph exulting fills with Shouts the Sky;
The Walls, the Woods, and long Canals reply.

[17] Muſt not this be the legitimate Offspring of Stentor, to make ſuch a Noiſe as that? The Nymph was within Doors, and ſhe muſt ſet up her Throat at a helliſh Rate, to make the Woods (where, by the by, there are none) and the Canals reply to it. Let us turn to the fifth Canto, and we ſhall ſee her there as loud with Anger, as ſhe is now with Joy:

Reſtore the Lock, ſhe cries, and all around
Reſtore the Lock the vaulted Roofs rebound;
Not fierce Othello in ſo loud a Strain
Roar'd for the Handkerchief that caus'd his Pain.

Well, but his Friends will object here, that this is an Hyperbole; and an Hyperbole is deſign'd to carry us beyond the Truth, only that it may make us enter more juſtly into it: and that when Virgil ſays of Camilla,

Illa vel intactae ſegetis per ſumma volaret
Gramina, nec teneres curſu laeſiſſet ariſtas;
Vel mare per medium fluctu ſuſpenſa tu menti,
Ferret iter, celeres nec tingeret aequore plantas;—

He means only that Camilla was exceeding ſwift of Foot: Why, be it ſo. But then by the ſame Rule, muſt not the Author of the Rape mean, that Belinda ſhouted and roar'd [18] very loud; and that, in ſhort, ſhe made a diabolick Din? Now is Shouting and Roaring proper for a well-bred Lady? Are they not below the Modeſty and the Decency even of thoſe ſonorous Nymphs of the Flood, who haunt the Banks of the vocal Thames between the Bridge and the Tower?

Let us look once more upon the laſt Canto, p. 44. Is ſhe not a terrible Termagant there, and the exact Reſemblance of Magnano's Lady in Hudibras?

See fierce Belinda on the Baron flies,
With more than uſual Lightning in her Eyes—
Now meet thy Fate, th' incens'd Virago cry'd,
And drew a deadly Bodkin from her Side.

But Belinda is not only ſhewn beautiful and well-bred, ſhe is repreſented virtuous too:

Favours to none, to all ſhe Smiles extends.

And yet in the latter End of the fourth Canto ſhe talks like an errant Suburbian:

Oh, hadſt thou, Cruel, been content to ſeize
Hairs leſs in Sight, or any Hairs but theſe.

Thus, Sir, has this Author given his fine Lady Beauty and good Breeding, Modeſty and Virtue in Words, but has in Reality and in Fact made her an artificial dawbing Jilt; [19] a Tomrig, a Virago, and a Lady of the Lake.

There is no other Character in this Poem worth taking Notice of. I ſhould now come to the Machines, in which you might expect to be entertain'd with ſomething more curious and more ridiculous. But I have already detain'd you too long, and muſt defer it till the next Opportunity.

I am, Sir, Yours, &c.

LETTER IV.

SIR,

ACcording to the Promiſe made in my laſt, I am now to treat of the Machines; in the doing which I ſhall lie under a great Diſadvantage: For before I come to thoſe of the Rape, it is neceſſary to ſay ſomething of Machines in general, of the Reaſon of introducing them, of the Method us'd by the antient Poets in employing them, and of the Practice of the greateſt and beſt of the Moderns. [20] 'Tis neceſſary to ſay ſomething to all theſe, in order to ſhew the Abſurdity of our Author's Machines, and his utter Ignorance of the Art he pretends to. But to treat of all theſe in as ample a Manner as the Subject deſerves, would require a Volume: And on the other Side, it would be extravagant to ſpend a great deal of Time to ſo inſignificant an End. But when I conſider that I write to a Gentleman who is perfectly well vers'd in theſe Matters, and who conſequently will comprehend a great deal by a little, I find to my Comfort that it will be eaſy to avoid both thoſe Inconveniences, of ſaying a great deal, and of ſaying nothing.

The Reaſons, that firſt oblig'd thoſe Poets which are call'd Heroic to introduce Machines into their Poems, were,

Firſt, To make their Fable and their Action more inſtructive: For, ſays Boſſu, ‘Lorſque les poetes ſont devenus philoſophes moraux, ils n' ont pas ceſſé d'etre theologiens. Au contraire, la morale quils traitent, les oblige indiſpenſablement, de méler la divinité dans leurs Ouvrages; parceque la conoiſſance, la crainte, & l' amour de Dieu, en un mot, la piete, & la religion ſont les premiers, & les plus ſolides fondements, des autres vertus, & de tout la morale.’

By introducing Machines into their Fables, the Epic Poets ſhew'd two Things, 1. That the great Revolutions in human Affairs are influenc'd [21] by a particular Providence. 2. That the Deity himſelf promotes the Succeſs of an Action form'd by Virtue, and conducted by Prudence. But,

Secondly, The Heroic Poets introduc'd Machines into their Fables in order to make thoſe Fables more delightful: For the employing Machines made the Actions of thoſe Poems wonderful; now every Thing that is wonderful is of courſe delightful. Let us ſee what one of the greateſt Maſters among the Moderns ſays to this:

Qu' Aenee & ſes vaiſſeaux par les ventes ecartez,
Soient aux bords Affricains d'un orage emportez,
Ce n' eſt qu' une avanture ordinaire & commune,
Qu' un coup peu ſurprenant, des traits de la fortune.
Mais que Junon conſtante en ſon averſion,
Pourſvive ſur les flots les reſtes d' Ilion,
Qu' Eole on ſa faveur les chaſſant d' Italie,
Ouvre aux vents mutinez les priſons d Eolie,
Que Neptune en couroux, s'elevant ſur la mer,
D'un mot calme les flots, mette la paix dans l' air,
Deliure les vaiſſeaux, des Syrtes les arrache,
C' eſt la ce qui ſurprend, frappe, ſaiſit, attache,
[22] Sans tous ces ornamens le vers tombe en langueur
La poëſie eſt morte, ou rampe ſans vigueur;
Le poete n'eſt plus, qu'un orateur timide
Qu' un froid hiſtorien d'un fable inſipide.

This ſays the moſt judicious M. Deſpreaux in his Art of Poetry; and the four laſt Lines remind me here of what I have at large diſcours'd upon other Occaſions, viz. That as the Epic Poets by their Machines made the Actions of their Fables more wonderful and more delightful, as well as more inſtructive; they likewiſe made the poetical Expreſſion more wonderful and more delightful, ſince 'tis from them that they chiefly derive that Greatneſs of Expreſſion which renders their Works ſo Divine.

I ſhall now come to the Practice of the antient Poets, and the Method which they made uſe of in introducing their Machines, in order to render their Poems more inſtructive and more delightful.

  • 1. They took their Machines from the Religion of their Country, upon which Account theſe Machines made the ſtronger Impreſſion, and made their Fables, and the Actions of them, probable as well as wonderful; for nothing was more natural than for thoſe antient Heathens to believe that the Powers which they ador'd were wont to intermeddle in human [23] Affairs, and to promote the Succeſs of thoſe Deſigns which they favour'd; and nothing could be more natural for them, than to believe that that Deſign muſt proſper which was eſpous'd by Jupiter. But this was not all; for the Machines, by making the Actions of their Poems probable, made them wonderful to Men of Senſe, who never can admire any Thing in Humanity which Reaſon will not let them believe. But,
  • 2. The antient Poets made their Machines allegorical, as well as their human Perſons.
  • 3. They oppos'd them to one another.
  • 4. They ſhew'd a juſt Subordination among them, and a juſt Proportion between their Functions. While one was employ'd about the greateſt and the ſublimeſt Things, another was not buſied about the moſt trifling and moſt contemptible.
  • 5. They always made their Machines influence the Actions of their Poems; and ſome of thoſe Machines endeavour'd to advance the Action of their reſpective Poem, and others of them endeavour'd to retard it.
  • 6. They made them infinitely more powerful than the human Perſons.

But, Secondly, The Practice of the greateſt modern Heroic Poets is conformable to that of the antient.

  • 1. They take their Machines from the Religion of their Country; witneſs Milton, Cowley, Taſſo.
  • 2. They make them Allegorical.
  • 3. They oppoſe them to one another.
  • 4. They ſhew a juſt Subordination among them, and a juſt Proportion between their Functions.

The Author of the Rape has run counter to this Practice both of the Antients and Moderns. He has not taken his Machines from the Religion of his Country, not from any Religion, nor from Morality. His Machines contradict the Doctrines of the Chriſtian Religion, contradict all ſound Morality; there is no allegorical nor ſenſible Meaning in them; and for theſe Reaſons they give no Inſtruction, make no Impreſſion at all upon the Mind of a ſenſible Reader. Inſtead of making the Action wonderful and delightful, they render it extravagant, abſurd, and incredible. They do not in the leaſt influence that Action; they neither prevent the Danger of Belinda, nor promote it, nor retard it, unleſs, perhaps, it may be ſaid, for one Moment, which is ridiculous. And if here it be objected, that the Author deſign'd only to entertain and amuſe; To that I anſwer, That for that very Reaſon he ought to have taken the utmoſt Care to [25] make his Poem probable, according to the important Precept of Horace.

Ficta voluptatis cauſâ ſint proxima veris.

And that we may be ſatisfy'd that this Rule is founded in Reaſon and Nature, we find by conſtant Experience, that any thing that ſhocks Probability is moſt inſufferable in Comedy.

There is no Oppoſition of the Machines to one another in this Rape of the Lock. Umbriel the Gnome is not introduc'd till the Action is over, and till Ariel and the Spirits under him, have quitted Belinda.

There is no juſt Subordination among theſe Machines, nor any juſt Proportion between their Functions. Ariel ſummons them together, and talks to them as if he were their Emperor.

Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your Chief give ear,
Fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Daemons, hear;
Ye know the Spheres and various Tasks aſſign'd,
By Laws eternal, to th' aerial Kind.
Some in the Fields of pureſt Aether play,
And bask and whiten in the Blaze of Day.
Some guide the Courſe of wandring Orbs on high,
Or roll the Planets thro' the boundleſs Sky—
[26] Or brew fierce Tempeſts on the watry Main,
Or o'er the Glebe diſtil the kindly Rain.
Others on Earth o'er human Race preſide,
Watch all their Ways, and all their Actions guide:
Of theſe the Chief the Care of Nations own,
And guard with Arms Divine the Britiſh Throne.

Now, Sir, give me leave to ask you one Queſtion: Did you ever hear before that the Planets were roll'd by the aerial Kind? We have heard indeed of Angels and Intelligences who have perform'd theſe Functions: But they are vaſt glorious Beings, of Celeſtial Kind, and Machines of another Syſtem. Pray which of the aerial Kind have theſe ſublime Employments? For nothing can be more ridiculous, or more contemptible, than the Employments of thoſe whom he harangues

To ſave the Powder from too rude a Gale,
Nor let th' impriſon'd Eſſences exhale.

There is a Difference almoſt infinite between theſe vile Functions and the former ſublime ones, and therefore they can never belong to Beings of the ſame Species. Which of the aerial Kinds are the Movers of Orbs on high, or the Guardians of Empires below; when he who calls himſelf their Chief, is only the Keeper of a vile Iſeland Cur, and has not ſo [27] much as the Intendance of the Lady's Favourite Lock, which is the Subject of the Poem? But that is entruſted to an inferior Spirit, contrary to all manner of Judgment and Decorum.

The Machines that appear in this Poem are infinitely leſs conſiderable than the human Perſons, which is without Precedent. Nothing can be ſo contemptible as the Perſons, or ſo fooliſh as the Underſtandings of theſe Hobgoblins. Ariel's Speech, for the firſt thirty Lines, is one continu'd Impertinence: For, if what he ſays is true, he tells them nothing but what they knew as well as himſelf before. And when he comes at length to the Point, he is full as impertinent as he was in his Ramble before; for after he has talk'd to them of black Omens and dire Diſaſters that threaten his Heroine, theſe Bugbears dwindle to the breaking a Piece of China, the ſtaining a Petticoat, the loſing a Necklace, a Fan, or a Bottle of Sal Volatile. But we ſhall conſider this Paſſage further when we come to examine the Sentiments; and then we ſhall ſee, that Sawny takes the Change here, and 'tis He, a little Lump of Fleſh, that talks; inſtead of a little Spirit.

That which makes this Speech more ridiculous, is the Place where it is ſpoken, and that is upon the Sails and Cordage of Belinda's Barge; which is certainly taken from the two Kings of Brentford deſcending in Clouds, and [28] ſinging in the Style of our modern Spirits.

1 King. O ſtay, for you need not as yet go aſtray,
The Tide, like a Friend, has brought Ships in our Way,
And on their high Ropes we will play.

But now, Sir, for the Perſons of theſe Sylphs and Sylphids, you ſee what Ideas the Threats of Ariel give us of them, when he threatens them, that for their Neglect they ſhall

Be ſtopt in Viols, or transfix'd with Pins,
Or plung'd in Lakes of bitter Waſhes lie,
Or wedg'd whole Ages in a Bodkin's Eye.

Diſcord is deſcrib'd by Homer with her Feet upon the Earth, and Head in the Skies: Upon which Longinus cries out, That this is not ſo much the Meaſure of Diſcord, as of Homer's Capacity, and Elevation of Genius. Ev'n ſo theſe diminutive Beings of the intellectual World, may be ſaid to be the Meaſure of Mr. Pope's Capacity and Elevation of Genius. They are, indeed, Beings ſo diminutive, that they bear the ſame Proportion to the reſt of the intellectual, that Eels in Vinegar do to the reſt of the material World. The latter are only to be ſeen thro' Microſcopes, and the former only thro' the falſe Optics of a Roſycrucian Underſtanding.

[29] I ſhall mention but one or two more of the numerous Defects which are to be found in the Machines of this Poem; the one is, The Spirits, which he intends for benign ones, are malignant, and thoſe, which he deſigns for malignant, are beneficent to Mankind. The Gnomes he intends for malignant, and the Sylphs for beneficent Spirits. Now the Sylphs in this Poem promote that Female Vanity which the Gnomes mortify. And Vanity is not only a great Defect in Human Nature, but the Mother of a thouſand Errors, and a thouſand Crimes, and the Cauſe of moſt of the Misfortunes which are incident to Humanity.

The laſt Defect that I ſhall take notice of, is, That the Machines in this Poem are not taken from one Syſtem, but are double, nay treble or quadruple. In the firſt Canto we hear of nothing but Sylphs, and Gnomes, and Salamanders, which are Roſycrucian Viſions. In the ſecond we meet with Fairies, Genii, and Daemons, Beings which are unknown to thoſe Fanatick Sophiſters. In the fourth, Spleen and the Phantoms about, are deriv'd from the Powers of Nature, and are of a ſeparate Syſtem. And Fate and Jove, which we find in the fifth Canto, belong to the Heathen Religion.

But now, Sir, in treating of theſe Matters, I have, before I perceiv'd it, tranſgreſs'd the [30] Bounds which I preſcrib'd to my ſelf, which I deſire that you would excuſe.

I am, SIR, Yours, &c.

LETTER V.

SIR,

I HAVE now ſhewn that there is no ſuch Thing as a Fable or Characters in the Poem of the Rape, and that what he calls his Machinery is moſt extravagantly choſen. I now come to the Sentiments, which are more abſurd than the reſt, and of ſuch an odd Compoſition, that they are at one and the ſame Time both trivial and extravagant.

The Abſurdity of the Sentiments begins with the Book, and the Author ſtumbles at the Threſhold.

What dire Offence from amorous Cauſes ſprings,
What mighty Quarrels riſe from trivial Things,
I ſing—This Verſe to C [...] Muſe is due.

[31] Where in three Lines there are no leſs than two Errors in the Sentiments. For, in the firſt Place, tho' the Author has neither Fable nor general Action, yet he propoſes to ſing ſomething general, rather than that particular Action which is the Subject of his Poem, and he begins as if he deſign'd to make the Reader expect a Treatiſe of Love-Quarrels; which Proceeding is juſt contrary to the Practice of Homer, and Virgil, and to the Dictates of right Reaſon. Homer and Virgil had accompliſh'd Fables, and their Actions at the Bottom were univerſal and allegorical: Yet they each of them propos'd to ſing theſe Actions, as they had particulariz'd them by the Impoſition of Names. Homer begins thus:

Muſe, ſing the baleful Fury of Achilles.

And Virgil thus:

Arma virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris
Italiam, fato profugus, Lavinaque venit
Littora.—

In the third Line he does not invoke the Muſe to ſing, but propoſes to do it himſelf: And tho' he names the Muſe immediately afterwards, he does it, forſooth, to acquaint her, that 'tis not ſhe, but Belinda, that is to inſpire him:

[32]
—This Verſe to C [...] Muſe is due,
This ev'n Belinda may vouchſafe to view:
Slight is the Subject, but not ſo the Praiſe,
If ſhe inſpire, and He approve my Lays.

So that he has deſir'd no Aſſiſtance from the Muſe, and none ſhe has afforded him.

The Muſe indeed could not poſſibly aſſiſt him in this Caſe. The Muſe is a Machine like Fate and Jove, belonging originally to the Ethnic Syſtem, and transferr'd ſometimes to the Chriſtian Religion only allegorically; and the Muſe cannot be ſuppos'd to bring him acquainted with Roſycrucian Spirits, which would deſtroy her own Divinity, either as Heathen or Chriſtian, ſince they are Beings utterly unknown, either to the Ethnic Syſtem, or to the Chriſtian Religion: So that 'tis Belinda, and not the Muſe, that is to inſpire him. He introduces her into the Acquaintance of the Sylphs and Sylphids in his Epiſtle, and ſhe is to bring him acquainted with them in the Body of the Book. And now, Sir, is not this very ingeniouſly, and very judiciouſly contriv'd? He has deſir'd no Aſſiſtance from the Muſe, and, as I ſaid before, none he has had from her. The whole Poem ſeems to have been infus'd by a Coquette, and not inſpir'd by a Muſe.

I have already acquainted you, Sir, that I would not in the Examen of this Poem confine my ſelf to an exact and regular Method: For neither is the Subject worth the while, nor [33] ought a Letter to a Friend to be writ with any Reſtraint. I ſhall therefore take the Sentiments of this Poem as they come in my way, without pretending to rank them under their reſpective Claſſes, excepting perhaps the Puns, which are numerous, and by which the Author frequently ſhocks not only the Dictates of Good Senſe, and the Rules of true Pleaſantry, but thoſe of Grammar and common Engliſh. But thoſe we ſhall omit till we have done with the reſt.

There is in this firſt Canto, pag. 4. a very unlucky Imitation of a Paſſage in the ſixth Book of Virgil.

Quae gratia currûm
Armorumque fuit vivis, quae cura nitentes
Paſcere equos; eadem ſequitur tellure repoſtos.

Which the Author of the Rape has thus imitated:

Think not, when Woman's tranſient Breath is fled,
That all her Vanities at once are dead,
Succeeding Vanities ſhe ſtill regards,
And tho' ſhe plays no more o'erlooks the Cards:
Her Joy in gilded Chariots when alive,
And Love of Ombre, after Death ſurvive.

Now there is this remarkable Difference between theſe two Paſſages, that what Virgil [34] ſays of the Souls in the Elyſian Fields, that they were pleas'd with the ſame Diverſions after Death, of which they were fond in their Life-times, does by no means contradict any Doctrine of that Religion which the Romans deriv'd from the Grecians; but the Paſſage in the Rape ſhocks the fundamental Doctrines of the Chriſtian Religion, and is therefore a moſt abſurd Imitation.

I have already ſhewn, in ſpeaking of the Characters, how injudicious all that Paſſage is, in the 8th and 9th Pages, which relates to the Toilette: And as I do not pretend to ſhew all his Errors, but only ſome few which are very groſs ones, I ſhall now paſs to the ſecond Canto; in which Canto, pag. 11. there is a Remark that cannot but be the Effect of very wiſe and very deep Obſervation:

With hairy Springes we the Birds betray,
Slight Lines of Hair ſurprize the finny Prey,
Fair Treſſes Man's impertal Race inſnare,
And Beauty draws us with a ſingle Hair.

That is to ſay, Birds are caught by the Heels, and Fiſh by the Jaws, with Horſe-Hair; and Men are hamper'd by the Souls with Woman's Hair. Tell me truly, Sir, is not this the Effect of very wiſe and very deep Obſervation? I have been ſo taken with theſe four Verſes, that I could not forbear making the four following in Imitation of them.

[35]
With jingling Bells Night-Fowlers Birds betray,
With theſe Night-Anglers catch the finny Prey:
Small Poets hamper Fools by jingling Rhimes,
And Nonſenſe draws them by its ſenſeleſs Chimes.

In this ſecond Canto, pag. 12. we have another Imitation of Virgil, and one ten times more unhappy than the former in the firſt Canto. The Paſſage of Virgil is in the ſecond Book of the Aeneis:

Dolus, an virtus, quis in hoſte requirit?

That is to ſay, If a Captain obtains a Victory, few enquire whether he ow'd it to Stratagem or open Force.

The Imitation is included in the following Lines:

Th' adventurous Baron the bright Lock admir'd,
He ſaw, he wiſh'd, and to the Prize aſpir'd;
Reſolv'd to win, he meditates the Way
By Force to raviſh, or by Fraud betray:
For when Succeſs a Lover's Toil attends,
Few ask, if Fraud or Force attain'd his Ends.

Now the Miſchief of it is, that if a Lover obtains his Ends by Force, the whole Country makes a very ſevere Enquiry into it, by their [36] Repreſentative, a petty Jury; and if he happens to be convicted of it, in that Caſe poor Culprit paſſes his Time but ſcurvily.

In the Letter, which I lately ſent you concerning the Characters, I mention'd ſeveral of the Sentiments which are to be found in Ariel's Speech: But I know not how I omitted that which follows:

To fifty choſen Sylphs of ſpecial Note
We truſt, th' important Charge, the Petticoat:
Oft have we known that ſevenfold Fence to fail,
Though ſtiff with Hoops, and arm'd with Ribs of Whale.

Where, Sir, 'tis eaſy to obſerve, that as 'tis Belinda's Petticoat of which he commits the important Charge to the Sylphs; 'tis the Petticoat of the ſame Belinda, according to all Engliſh Meaning, and all true grammatical Conſtruction, that he has known ſo often to fail in ſpight of the Hoops of Whalebone. And now I leave you to judge if there was not Reaſon for telling Mrs. Arabella, in the Epiſtle, that Madam Belinda was not like her.

There ſeems indeed to be a terrible Shock made upon the ſame Petticoat, in the Beginning of the fifth Canto, pag. 42.

All ſide in Parties, and begin th' Attack,
Fans clap, Silks rattle, and tough Whale-bones crack.

[37] By tough Whalebones he cannot mean thoſe of the Fans, for they are limber enough. Beſides, Fans were mention'd in the Beginning of this laſt Verſe. The tough Whale-bones then, at he latter End of it, are thoſe of the Petticoat, and could not poſſibly be heard to crack, unleſs a violent Attack had been made upon it.

At the Bottom of Pag. 15. Canto III. there is a very notable Thought:

Coffee, which makes the Politician wiſe,
And ſee through all Things with his half-ſhut Eyes,
Sent up in Vapours to the Baron's Brain
New Stratagems the radiant Lock to gain.

Now what was this new Stratagem, or theſe new Stratagems? Why, the Baron comes behind Belinda as ſhe was drinking her Coffee, and, ſnap, off goes the Lock. Now if this was the new Stratagem, what in the Name of Impertinence could be the old one?

But the profoundeſt and wiſeſt Reflections of all, are at the End of this third Canto.

What Time would ſpare, from Steel receives its Date,
And Monuments, like Men, ſubmit to Fate:
Steel did the Labour of the Gods deſtroy,
And ſtrike to Duſt th' imperial Tow'rs of Troy
[38] Steel could the Works of mortal Pride confound,
And hew triumphal Arches to the Ground.
What Wonder then, fair Nymph, thy Hair ſhould feel
The conquering Force of unreſiſting Steel?

Why, who the Devil, beſides this Bard, ever made a Wonder of it? What! before Troy Town, and triumphal Arches were built, was the cutting off a Lock of Hair a miraculous Thing? But we may very properly apply what he ſays of Steel, and the cutting off a Lock of Hair to Fire, and the burning of a Faggot.

What Time would ſpare, from Fire receives its Date,
And lofty Piles, like Men, ſubmit to Fate;
Fire did the Work of Demi Gods conſume,
And laid in Duſt th' imperial Tow'rs of Rome;
Fire could the Works of mortal Pride confound,
And level this proud City with the Ground:
To Fire a Victim ſacred Paul's could fall,
And eke the regal Turrets of Whitehall:
What Wonder, one poor Faggot ſhould expire
By the reſiſtleſs Force of conqu'ring Fire?

But, Sir, I have once more unawares tranſgreſs'd the Bounds preſcrib'd to my ſelf, and am,

Yours, &c.

LETTER VI.

[39]
SIR,

THE Complaint which you make of my long Silence, and the Interruption of this weighty Affair, ſeems to be a Return to that Compliment which I deſign'd to make you, by diſcontinuing my Obſervations upon theſe arrant Bawbles. It was in Complaiſance to you that I began to make them; and it was out of Reſpect to your Judgment that I left them off. They began to run into Length, and I thought I might as reaſonably entertain you with voluminous Remarks upon Mites in Cheeſe, or upon Eels in Vinegar, as with tedious Obſervations on Mr. Pope's Poems.

But ſince 'tis your Deſire that I ſhould make an end of what I have begun. I am reſolv'd to comply with it, as far as my Indiſpoſition, and my Affairs, and the Satiety which I have contracted in ſaying ſo much already, will permit me. For the Difficulty here does not lie in making Remarks, but in Reading. The Faults are ſo groſs and ſo numerous, that there is no more Pleaſure in finding them, than there is in hunting in a Hare-Warren.

[40] I am now come to the Sentiments, which are to be found in the fourth and fifth Cantos of this notable Poem. I ſhall only take notice of a very few, by which you and your Friends may judge of the whole.

The firſt Thing I ſhall take notice of, is the impertinent Journey of Umbriel the Gnome, who

Down to the central Earth, his proper Scene,
Repairs to ſearch the gloomy Cave of Spleen.
Pag. 3.

Now to what Purpoſe does this fantaſtick Being take this Journey? Why, to give Belinda the Spleen. In order to which, Spleen equips him with a Bottle and a Bag, as a Country Dame does her Plough-Jobber, to equip him for his Day's Work.

A wondrous Bag with both her Hands ſhe binds,
Like that where once Ulyſſes held the Winds;
There ſhe collects the Force of female Lungs,
Sighs, Sobs, and Paſſions, and the War of Tongues.
A Viol next ſhe fills with fainting Fears,
Soft Sorrows, melting Griefs, and flowing Tears.

Now what could be more impertinent than this Journey of Umbriel, or more vain and [41] uſeleſs than this Gift of Spleen, whether we look upon the Bag or the Bottle?

Umbriel deſcends to the central Earth to give Belinda the Spleen. Now 'tis plain, that before his Deſcent he leaves her mad, and upon his Return, finds her in a Fit of the Mother.

That before his Journey he leaves her mad, is I think pretty plain, from pag. 28.

Then flaſh'd the livid Lightning from her Eyes,
And Screams of Horror rend th' affrighted Skies.
Not louder Shrieks by Dames to Heaven are caſt—

That upon his Return he finds her in a Fit of the Mother, is manifeſt from p. 35.

Sunk in Thaleſtris' Arms the Nymph he found,
Her Eyes dejected, and her Hair unbound.

How abſurd was it then for this Ignis Fatuus to take a Journey down to the central Earth, for no other Purpoſe than to give her the Spleen, whom he left and found in the Height of it? And why does this impertinent Devil, who ſees this, give himſelf the Trouble which he takes in the following Lines:

[42]
Full o'er their Heads the ſwelling Bag he rent,
And all the Furies iſſu'd at the Vent,
Belinda burns with more than mortal Ire. Ibid.

Now, pray, what were the Furies enclos'd in this Bag? Why we were told what they were a little higher, viz. the Force of female Lungs, and Bedlam Paſſions, and the War of Tongues. Now could Belinda have more of thoſe than ſhe had before the Gnome took his Journey?

Then flaſh'd the livid Lightning from her Eyes,
And Screams of Horror rend th' affrighted Skies.

And as for the Bottle, that ſeems like Trinca. lo's, rather to comfort her, than to ferment her more. For let us but conſider the Condition in which Umbriel found her upon his Return;

Sunk in Thaleſtris' Arms the Nymph he found,
Her Eyes dejected, and her Hair unbound.

That is to ſay, ſhe was ſtark mad.

Now let us compare this Condition with that in which ſhe appears after ſhe has a Dram of the Bottle?

But Umbriel, hateful Gnome, forbears not ſo,
He breaks the Viol whence the Sorrows flow.

Now, pray, what is the Conſequence? Why Belinda of a ſudden comes to herſelf, holds up [43] her Head, and is calm enough to make Reflections.

The next Thing I ſhall take notice of, is the Equipage of Spleen, and this Author's giving her two Handmaids, the one of which ought rather to be her Mother than her Maid, and the other can have nothing at all to do with her.

Two Handmaids wait the Throne, alike in Place,
But diff'ring far in Figure and in Face.
Here ſtood Ill-Nature, like an antient Maid

Here the Author, with a great deal of Judgment makes a Univerſal ſubordinate to a Particular. Ill-Nature may with ſome Colour be ſaid to be the Mother of Spleen, but ſhe can never be call'd her Maid, without ſhocking common Senſe. The Nature of a Man muſt be coeval to the Man, and muſt far precede any Thing that the World calls Spleen in him. But let us take a View of her other Handmaid, pag. 32.

There Affectation with a ſickly Mien,
Shews in her Cheeks the Roſes of eighteen.

Now Affectation can never have any Thing to do with Spleen. Spleen is the Mother of Paſſion, which is Nature; Affectation is the Child of Tranquillity, and for the moſt part is nothing but counterfeit Paſſion. Now he, who has violent Paſſions of his own, is hardly [44] at leiſure to counterfeit thoſe which are foreign to him; and therefore it has been often ſeen, that when too much Felicity has made a Fop affected, Spleen and Adverſity have brought him back to Nature.

I will not take notice of the various Errors in the Deſcription of what he calls the Palace of Spleen. I ſhall content myſelf with the Mention of one of them, which may not improperly be call'd the impoſſible Transformation.

Unnumber'd Throngs on ev'ry Side are ſeen
Of Bodies chang'd to various Forms by Spleen;
Here living Tea-pots ſtand, one Arm held out,
One bent; the Handle this, and that the Spout.
A Pipkin there, like Homer's Tripod walks,
Here ſighs a Jar, and there a Gooſe-pie talks:
Men prove with Child, as pow'rful Fancy works,
And Maids, turn'd Bottles, call aloud for Corks.

Now, Sir, I appeal to you and your Friends, if ever there was ſuch execrable Stuff, ſuch lamentable, ſuch deplorable Pleaſantry! What ſays Horace?

Scribendi rectè ſapere eſt & principium & ſons.

Good Senſe is the ſole Foundation of good Writing. And, according to him, Boileau;

Quelque ſujet qu' on traite, ou plaiſant, ou ſublime,
Que toujours le bon ſens s'accorde avec le rime.

[45] Good Senſe is the only Foundation both of Pleaſantry and Sublimity: But that which is out of Truth, is certainly out of Nature and Good Senſe. Now was ever any Thing more out of Truth than the foregoing Deſcription? Inſtead of giving Spleen a Power to bring melancholy Deluſions upon Mortals, and to cheat them with falſe Appearances, this Author gives her the Power really to transform Bodies, and makes Umbriel the Gnome, who, as a Spirit, is ſuppos'd to ſee Things as they are, actually and really to behold that extravagant Tranſformation. But ſo much for the Sentiments of the fourth Canto.

As the fifth is very ſhort, and very inſipid, and as your humble Servant is very much tir'd, I ſhall make but two Obſervations upon it.

In the Beginning of it there is a rampant Scuffle, which I ſuppoſe our Author took from the Rankneſs of a Buttock-Ball, ſo little is it becoming of Perſons of Condition.

All ſide in Parties, and begin th' Attack,
Fans clap, Silks ruſtle, and tough Whale-bones crack,
Heroes and Heroines Shouts confus'dly riſe,
And baſs and treble Voices ſtrike the Skies:
No common Weapons in their Hands are found,
Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal Wound.

[46] The latter Part is ſomething odd in the Mouth of the Tranſlator of Homer, who ought to know, that both Mars and Venus had been wounded by Diomedes. But if no common Weapons are found in the Hands of theſe Combatants, pray what Weapons are they which make the Silks to ruſtle, and the Whalebones to crack? But let us conſider what follows:

So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage,
And heavenly Breaſts with human Paſſions rage,
'Gainſt Pallas, Mars, Latona, Hermes arms,
And all Olympus rings with loud Alarms:
Jove's Thunder roars, Heav'n trembles all around,
Blue Neptune ſtorms, the bellowing Deeps reſound,
Earth ſhakes her nodding Tow'rs, the Ground gives way,
And the pale Ghoſts ſtart at the Flaſh of Day.

Now, Sir, who ſays that this Paſſage is not very juſtly applied to a Catterwauling? But the latter Part of it is not taken from Homer, but from his moſt impertinent Imitator Monſieur De la Motte, and neither the one nor the other Trifler ſeem to have known any thing in this Paſſage, of the Solemnity, and the dreadful Majeſty of Homer.

In the Beginning of the next Page the following Lines are full of miſerable Pleaſantry:

[47]
While thro' the Preſs enrag'd Thaleſtris flies,
And ſcatters Death around from both her Eyes,
A Beau and Witling periſh'd in the Throng,
One died in Metaphor, and one in Song.
O cruel Nymph! a living Death I bear,
Cry'd Dapperwit, and ſunk beneath his Chair.
A mournful Glance, Sir Fopling upwards caſt,
Thoſe Eyes are made ſo killing!—was his laſt.

So that here we have a real Combat and a metaphorical dying. Now is not that, Sir, very ludicrous? What, did he fight, or make Love, as Profeſſors read, or as Popes fulminate ex Cathedrâ? I cannot imagine how he could do that, unleſs he had got Belinda or Thaleſtris upon his Lap.

Thus, Sir, have I gone thro' ſeveral of the Sentiments upon the Rape, which are either trifling, or falſe. But there are a great many Lines, which have no Sentiment at all in them, that is, no reaſonable Meaning. Such are the Puns which are every where ſpread throughout it. Puns bear the ſame Proportion to Thought, that Bubbles hold to Bodies, and may juſtly be compared to thoſe gaudy Bladders which Children make with Soap; which, tho' they pleaſe their weak Capacities with a momentary Glittering, yet are but juſt beheld, and vaniſh into Air. Of this Nature is that Pun in the 5th Canto, p. 44.

[48]
See fierce Belinda on the Baron flies,
With more than uſual Lightning in her Eyes,
Nor fears the Chief th' unequal Fight to try,
Who ſought no more than on his Foe to die.

That is to ſay, He wiſh'd for nothing more than to fight with her, becauſe he deſired nothing more than to lie with her. Now what ſenſible Meaning can this have, unleſs he takes her for a Ruſſian, who is to grow paſſionately fond of him by the extraordinary Gallantry of a luſty Baſtinado? Such likewiſe is that Quibble in the following Page:

Boaſt not my Fall, (he cry'd) Inſulting Foe,
Thou by ſome others ſhalt be laid as low.

Now we heard nothing before of the Baron's lying low. All that we heard is, that by a dextrous Toſs of this modeſt Virgin, his Noſtrils were fill'd with Snuff. So that he ſeems here to ſay the ſame thing to her, that Nykin ſays to Cocky in the Old Batchelor; I have it in my Head, but you will have it in another Place. What follows ſeems to be very extraordinary:

Nor think to die dejects my lofty Mind,
All that I dread is leaving you behind:
Rather than ſo, ah! let me ſtill ſurvive,
And burn in Cupid's Flames, but burn alive.

[33] Now, Sir, who ever heard of a dead Man that burnt in Cupid's Flames?

Of the ſame Nature are thoſe numerous Banters in Rhyme, which are to be found throughout this Poem, which are ſo uniform, and ſo much of a piece, that one would ſwear the Author were giving a Receipt for dry Joking: For by placing ſomething important in the Beginning of a Period, and making ſomething very trifling follow it, he ſeems to take pains to bring ſomething into a Conjunction Copulative with nothing, in order to beget nothing. Of this there are divers Inſtances in Ariel's Speech in the 2d Canto;

This Day black Omens threat the brighteſt Fair
That e'er deſerv'd the watchfull'ſt Spirit's Care;
Some dire Diſaſter, or by Force or Sleight,
But what, or where, the Fates have wrapt in Night:
Whether the Nymph ſhall break Diana's Law,
Or ſome frail China Jar receive a Flaw,
Or ſtain her Honour, or her new Brocade,
Forget her Pray'rs, or miſs a Maſquerade,
Or loſe her Heart, or Necklace at a Ball
Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock muſt fall.

Which, by the way, I ſuppoſe is deſign'd as a bitter Bob for the Predeſtinarians. Raillery apart, we pretend not to deny, that the very minuteſt Events are foredoom'd by eternal Preſcience; but that Heave [...] ſhould give notice of the Death of a vile Dog, by what he calls black Omens, is a great deal too ſtrong. Heaven could do no more for Caeſar himſelf, the [34] very Top of the human Creation, and the Foremoſt Man of the Univerſe.

But now, Sir, give me leave to ask you one Queſtion: Is Ariel in Jeſt or in Earneſt, in haranguing the Spirits at this rate? Is he in Earneſt? Why then even Robin Goodfellow himſelf is not a more ſenſeleſs inſignificant Hobgoblin. Is he in Jeſt? Why then all this is a very grand Impertinence, ſince it does not ſo much as aim at any thing: For how can the Spirits be any ways influenced by theſe dry Jokes of their Leader?

Of the ſame Stamp and the ſame Contrivance are theſe Lines in the Beginning of the 3d Canto:

Here Britain's Stateſmen oft the Fall foredoom
Of foreign Tyrants, and of Nymphs at home;
Here Thou, great Anna, whom three Realms obey,
Doſt ſometimes Council take, and ſometimes Tea;—
One ſpeaks the Glory of the Britiſh Queen,
And one deſcribes a charming Indian Screen.

As I ſaid above, Sir, is not here a Receipt for dry Joking? and can any thing be more eaſy than to be a Wit at this rate?

But ſo much for the Sentiments in this Rape of the Lock; I ſhould now come to the Expreſſion. But I have already tranſgreſs'd the Bounds I preſcribed to myſelf, and 'tis Time to take Pity of myſelf and you. I am, Sir,

Yours, &c.

LETTER VII.

[35]
SIR,

THO' I am heartily tired with what I have already ſent you, and am really aſhamed of having paſs'd a Week in thinking on ſuch an empty jingling Trifle as the Rape of the Lock, a wretched Rhapſody, writ for the Amuſement of Boys, and Men like Boys; and tho' I am both very much indiſpoſed at preſent, and very buſy, yet ſince I have received your Commands to ſend you ſome Remarks upon the Expreſſions in that Bawble, in order to compleat the Converſion of Mrs. S [...]; I will, in Obedience to thoſe Commands, do myſelf a little more Violence, and will do it in as ſhort a Time, and as ſmall a Compaſs as I can; for I will confine myſelf to the firſt twelve Lines, that by the numerous Faults which will be ſeen in them, any one to whom you may happen to ſhew this Letter, may be able to judge of the reſt.

This Rhapſody begins with Abſurdity;

What dire Offence from amorous Cauſes ſprings,
What mighty Conteſts riſe from trivial things,
I ſing—This Verſe to C [...] Muſe is due,
This ev'n Belinda may vouchſafe to view:
Slight is the Subject, but not ſo the Praiſe,
If ſhe inſpire, and he approve my Lays.

[36] The two firſt of theſe Lines, and the Beginning of the third, are out of all Grammatical Conſtruction: For here the Verb Active ſing has no Accuſative Caſe depending on it; as the Nominative Caſe is without a Verb in the Beginning of the Prologue to Cato, which Prologue was writ by the ſame little whimſical Gentleman.

The Word Muſe is a mere Expletive, and can have nothing to do here, ſince 'tis Belinda only that is to inſpire him.

There are no leſs than ſix Faults in the ſix Lines which he calls his Invocation:

Say, what ſtrange Motive, Goddeſs, cou'd compel
A well-bred Lord t' aſſault a gentle Belle?
O ſay, what ſtranger Cauſe, yet unexplor'd,
Could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord.
And dwells ſuch Rage in ſofteſt Boſoms then?
And dwells ſuch daring Souls in little Men?

Now all this, if it were not for the Rhyme, would appear, even to Fools as well as to Men of Senſe, the pooreſt and moſt contemptible Stuff that ever laid the gentle Reader aſleep. I would fain know what the Word Goddeſs in the firſt Line [...] the Muſe, or Belinda. Goddeſs, by the uſual Signification of the Word, relates to Muſe, but according to Grammar and Conſtruction, it relates to Belinda, becauſe ſhe was mention'd laſt, and ſhe is the inſpiring Perſon. The Word compel in the firſt Line likewiſe is a Botch for the ſake of the Rhyme, the Word that ſhould naturally have been uſed [37] was either induce or provoke. The Word compel ſuppoſes the Baron to be a Beaſt, and not a free Agent. Now, Sir, what a pretty Senſe theſe two firſt Lines make:

Say, what ſtrange Motive, Goddeſs, cou'd compel
A well-bred Lord t' aſſault a gentle Belle?

That is, what could force a well-bred Man to be damnably rude, and to ſhew himſelf an errant Clown and a Brute? As for the Terms gentle Belle, they are too affected, too weak, and too low, and by no means come up to what is ſaid to Belinda in the very next Page by Ariel the Sylph:

Faireſt of Mortals, thou diſtinguiſh'd Care
Of thouſand bright Inhabitants of Air.

For Belle and Beau, as we have made them, as it were, Engliſh Subſtantives, do not ſignify ſo much as Beautiful, tho' as they are French Adjectives they have that Signification. No Man when he calls another Beau, means, that that other is handſome, but only that he takes a great deal of Poppiſh Care about his Dreſs, and gives himſelf a great many fantaſtick Airs, in order to pleaſe ſuperficial People, and render himſelf ridiculous to Men of Senſe. Belle has much the ſame Signification, and according to the preſent Uſe and Acceptation of the Word, no more ſignifies a beautiful Woman than Coquette does, but only one that takes a great deal of fruitleſs Pains to make herſelf [38] more agreeable than God and Nature have made her. But let us go on to the next Couplet:

Oh ſay, what ſtranger Cauſe, yet unexplor'd,
Could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?

The Cauſe was, becauſe ſhe did not like him; a ſtrange Cauſe indeed, and which required a great deal of Sagacity to find it out. But to what Purpoſe is the Word reject? Belinda granted him every thing that he ask'd of her. He deſired to wait upon her to HamptonCourt, and ſhe granted it. He deſired her to make one at Ombre, and ſhe complied with that Requeſt likewiſe. If ſhe granted no more, it was becauſe he ask'd no more: For, if we may believe herſelf, by what ſhe ſays at the Beginning of the fourth Canto, ſhe would have refuſed him nothing unleſs it was her favourite Lock:

Oh hadſt thou, cruel, been content to ſeize
Hairs leſs in Sight, or any Hairs but theſe.

For ſhe, who ſeems inclin'd to ſacrifice her Modeſty to her Vanity, would, in all likelihood, have ſacrificed it to her Pleaſure. In ſhort, the Baron is ſo far from making Love in this Rhapſody, that he plainly ſhews, by the rude Affront which he puts upon Belinda, that he expected no particular Favour from her. And indeed this Party of Pleaſure at Hampton-Court ſeems to me to look more like Catterwauling, than the Behaviour of Perſons who went thither [39] with any amorous Deſign. But let us proceed to the next Couplet:

And dwells ſuch Rage in ſofteſt Boſoms then?

Yes, moſt certainly does it; and if this little Gentleman had not had a Head more ſoft than Belinda's Boſom, he could never have been capable of asking ſo ſimple a Queſtion. The ſofter Sex are much more ſubject to violent Paſſions than Men. Virgil ſhewed a Softneſs in Dido, which this little Gentleman is utterly incapable of comprehending; a Softneſs which obliged a Sovereign Queen, whoſe Underſtanding was equal to her Supreme Power, or to her Greatneſs of Mind, to grant the laſt Favour to the Trojan Hero, and yet that Softneſs was immediately ſucceeded by a Rage, to whoſe Force, and whoſe noble Enthuſiaſm, this little Creature, who is as diminutive an Author as he is an Animal, is as utterly incapable of raiſing himſelf, as an earthly Vapour is of aſcending to Heaven. But tho' nothing is more plain than that Rage may dwell in ſofteſt Boſoms, yet had it no more to do here than reject, and indeed had the leſs to do here becauſe of reject: For cannot a Lady deny a Gentleman who makes a civil Requeſt to her, but ſhe muſt ſall immediately into as raving a Fit, as ſhe could have done, if he had extorted the Favour from her. Reject ſhews Contempt rather than Rage: It ſhews that ſhe did not eſteem the Baron enough to be at all angry with him. But let us come to the ſecond Line of the Couplet:

[40]
And dwells ſuch daring Souls in little Men?

Yes certainly, daring Souls dwell often in little Men, and for that very Reaſon, becauſe they are little Men. Did he never hear of what Statius ſays of little Tydeus:

—totoſque infuſa per artus
Major in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus.

I myſelf know a little Monſter, who, I dare venture to propheſy, will one Day ſhew as daring a Soul as a mad Indian who runs a muck. But what Occaſion is there for daring Souls here? The Baron ſhews a good deal of Brutality, and a good deal of Perfidy, but no Daring. He ſhew'd a great deal of Courage indeed, in coming treacherouſly behind a Lady and cutting off her favourite Lock!

But all this Piece, is, like Windſor Foreſt, or the Temple of Fame, below Criticiſm; and therefore I take my Leave of you. It would be unreaſonable to expect that you ſhould read Remarks with Pleaſure which I write with Pain; Remarks which may be made by the moſt ordinary Reader, without any Penetration or any Sagacity. Beſides, I have given a ſufficient Sample to enable Mrs. S [...] to judge of the reſt. For as a Lion is known by his Claws, an Aſs is known by his Ears.

I am, &c.
FINIS.
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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4157 Remarks on Mr Pope s Rape of the lock In several letters to a friend With a preface occasion d by the late Treatise on the profound and the Dunciad By Mr Dennis. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5C35-2