THE Author of the Dunciad has now oblig'd himſelf, and is perfectly happy in beholding his illuſtrious Brat, the juſt Sem⯑blance of his ſweet temper'd Parent, make his Appearance: He had long promis'd, or rather threaten'd the Publick with this Edi⯑tion; but Nobody would believe, that any Creature could be hardy, or vain, or wicked enough, to undertake to utter a virulent Lampoon, with the Names of many worthy Perſons at full Length; but it ſeems, the Raneour of his Mind has got the better of his Fears, and the Itch of Scribling is much ſuperior to the Dread of Chaſtiſement.

Well then, having (like Caeſar) written his own Commentaries, and given himſelf various Readings upon himſelf, having guarded himſelf on all Sides, and ſurrounded his Text with Prolegomena, Teſtimonia, Arguments, Indexes, Appendix, &c. and adorn'd himſelf with all the Pomp and Trappings that uſually attend the Dignity of an eſtabliſh'd Writer of Antiquity: Behold him ſtrutting into the World, and ex⯑pecting to receive the Reverence due to his Quality, Optat Ephippia Mus, [2] and however awkardly they become him, he rejoices in them. Behold him now proclaiming himſelf a Claſſick; behold a Perſonage whom he ſtiles William Cleland, walking gravely before our Poetical Dictator, bare Headed, with the Faſces on his Shoulder; and a little behind him, an ugly Northern Thing, formerly his Colleague in Scandal and Criticiſm, an odd Mixture of Doctor, Poet, Buffoon, Punſter, Politician, Antiqua⯑ry, and Cook; methinks I ſee them now marching in ſolemn Parade, round the new created Claſſick's Garden at Twickenham; I hear them repeating the Dunciad, and the neighbouring Shores reſound his Verſes.

Yet has not the Author of the Dunciad's Vanity outrun his Judgment ſo many Lengths, to perſuade him to ſet his own Name to this modeſt Performance; therefore has he borrow'd, and very properly, the Name of Martinus Scriblerus; and not content with this, or apprehenſive this was not a ſufficient Protection for him, he has publiſh'd a Letter to his Publiſher, and ſign'd it William Cleland.

I have many Reaſons which induce me to believe, that this Friend of Scriblerus's, whom he calls William Cleland, is a counterfeit Friend only, and the Words ſtand like Richard Roe, and John Doe, for Form Sake only, in a Recovery, and to give the Modeſt Author of the Dunciad an Opportunity of ſaying ſomething pretty in his own Favour. Mr. Congreve, in his Way of the World, ſhews us a Coxcomb, who uſed to enquire for himſelf at a Chocolate-houſe, and not finding himſelf there, would leave Letters for himſelf: But our little merry Author goes far⯑ther; he prints Letters to himſelf, writes Libels, threatens, forgives, puniſhes, and is really the Drawcanſir of the Age.

In the Publiſher's Preface, (for our Claſſick gives us a Publiſher's Pre⯑face, as well as a Preface to the Publiſher) he takes upon him to an⯑ſwer for Poſterity, and very modeſtly aſſures us, that this inſipid Poem will be read by Poſterity: Theſe are his Words, In this Monument they muſt expect to ſurvive (And here ſurvive they ſhall, (Oh dreadful!) as long as the Engliſh Tongue ſhall remain ſuch as it was in the Reigns of Queen Anne and King George.) If this Pigmy Animal's Wit could come up to his Malice, what Work would he make with thoſe who ſhould be ſo unhappy to fall under his Diſpleaſure! But as it is, if this Monument, as he calls it, ſhould laſt; let the preſent Age inform him, and hereby it does in⯑form him, that it will ſtand only as a Monument of his Infamy; and thoſe that come after us will and muſt believe, the Perſons who ſtood the Marks of his petulant Malice, to be Worthy and Good Men; and the Enemies of the Author of the Dunciad, will be always look'd upon as the Friends of Virtue; they will ſee a little invidious narrow [3] Mind in every Line he has written; they will bluſh at his indecent Idaeas, and be ſhock'd at his Scurrility. Therefore I applaud your Deſign, Sir, of printing your Letter in Quarto, exactly on the ſame Size with that of the Dunciad Variorum; let it be bound up with it; let them cling together through every Age; there the Author of the Dunciad ſhall ſurvive, and ſurvive he ſhall — As long as the Engliſh Tongue ſhall remain ſuch as it was in the Reigns of Queen Anne, and King George. If this ſhould be the Caſe, What Courage, what Allies, what Stature muſt future Ages conceive this Giant Warriour to be aided with? They will imagine him at leaſt to be Seven Foot high, beyond the Growth of his Cotemporaries, both in Stature and Underſtanding. Will they not be ſurprized, when I aſſure them, and I do hereby aſſure them, (for I, Sir, put in my Claim to Immortality too, by being annexed to you) that this ſame Gyant, was but about four Foot and an Half high, of a Structure a little irregular, and his Genius Low and indecent as his Form.

But I loſe my Purpoſe, which was to ſhew the Improbability that any Man ſhould be ſo weak or unadvis'd, or hungry after any Sort of Fame to ſo mean a Degree, to place, or ſuffer his Name to be placed before a leud and infamous Libel; therefore I ſay, This ſame Author has written a Letter to himſelf in the Name of one William Cleland, and made him to commend and applaud the Author, for what every one knows he is liable by the Laws of the Land to be puniſh'd when he ſhall be diſcovered; and for this Cauſe, at the ſame Time that he has plac'd every Gentleman's Name whom he has abuſed at full Length, he has not dared to ſubſcribe his own.

It is uſual for the Merry Andrew after he has play'd over his arch Tricks for ſome Time, to put on a grave Face, to rectify his Muſcles, and to harangue his Audience in a more ſober Wiſe, to prepare them to receive the Doctor with Reſpect; and this is always done in a prefatory Way, before the Doctor produces his Medals, or his Pacquets, or pro⯑ceeds to poiſon himſelf or the Company. Our Doctor of the Dunciad has thought it proper, it ſeems, that ſomebody ſhould for Form ſake take upon him this Character; and if he has not made his ſuppoſed Friend to riſe to the Dignity of his Zany, he may at leaſt be allowed to be the Vinegar of the Ring, and be qualified to whip the People into a Circle before the Sports begin. As the Character of this W. C. thus drawn by the Libeller, is of a very uncommon Kind, I will give it you in ſome Obſervations upon this merry Letter of the Author of the Dunciad, in the Name of this W. C. to the Publiſher [4] of the Dunciad; that is, to Nobody, it having been never publickly ſold when he wrote his Letter: So that here is one W. C. whom Nobody ever heard of, writing to a certain Publiſher, whom No⯑body knew.

This ſame Author ſays, in the Name of W. C. that it was a Mark of his Humanity to ſtay ſo long before he executed his Vengeance upon thoſe who had offended him: Now, as Nobody knows better than he, the Strength and Bitterneſs of his own Gall, Nobody can aſſure us ſo well as he, how long Malice will keep alive, fifteen or twenty Years at leaſt it ſeems; but now as this Humanity of his (as he is pleas'd to call it) would be a very dangerous Plea at the Old Baily in an Indictment for the deſtroying a Man's Perſon, I think it ſhould weigh as little with the Candid, in juſtifying the De⯑ſtruction of a Man's Reputation.

But he makes his William Cleland a Party to his Crime likewiſe, and declares he aſſiſted in compoſing the Libel: He makes him affirm, he was obliged to it in Humanity, for, ſays he, very gravely, It was an Orphan; an Orphan Libel. Libels are all Orphans, dear William Cleland, a Sort of Children whom their Fathers never care to own, and though your Humanity may be very great, I think in this Caſe your Prudence will hardly weight againſt it; there are very good Reaſons why this ſame Author does not own his Child; and if you knew or conſider'd them, ſure you would not thruſt your Ears into the Diſpute; but I forget that this W. C. is only an Ens Rationis, a Man of Straw, ſet up by the candid Author of the Dunciad, to combat for him.

Immediately after this, our Libeller forgot what he juſt before af⯑firm'd, and makes this very W. C. to ſay, He has found out the Father of the Baſtard; he makes him moſt impudently to declare Mr. Pope to be the Author: If he means, as I hope he does not, the Poet of that Name, who has been ſo much oblig'd by the Pub⯑lick, who is, or ought to be by his Education, a Gentleman, whom Books ought to have taught Humanity, and polite Converſation and Letters, Decency and good Manners; what does this infamous Au⯑thor deſerve for making his W. C. abuſe him in this Manner. But the Reaſons he gives why he conceives Mr. Pope to be the Author, are equally ſcurrilous and ridiculous. Every one was curious (ſays he) to read what could be ſaid to prove Mr. Pope a Dunce, and was ready to pay ſomething for ſuch a Diſcovery. How came he to imagine every one [...] curious to find this Gentleman a Dunce; if he knows him to be [5] the Author of the Dunciad, every Man of common Senſe may eaſily judge what he is; but as the Perſon who has written that low and in⯑famous Satyr, has not yet dared to ſet his own Name before it, I think it did not become this ſame W. C. whoever he is, to do it for him. If W. C. was a real and not a feign'd Perſon, I do not doubt but Mr. Pope would do himſelf Juſtice for this Abuſe, and recur to the Laws for Satisfaction upon him.

But this Author of the Dunciad, whoever he is muſt be a plea⯑ſant Fellow, for he goes on, and makes his Man of Straw, W. C. declare, that when he ſaw Mr. Pope attack'd or written againſt, or anſwer'd by thoſe who were abuſed (for he will have him to be his Author ſtill) that he thought it was become a common Cauſe; the Danger was common to all, and his Concern ought to be ſo too; and he cauſes him very ſeriouſly to deliver it as his Opinion, That thoſe who attack'd Mr. Pope, muſt be Traitors to Church and State, and Wo⯑men, (ſtrange Stuff) a little venemous Wretch, not Mr. Pope, is laſh'd for his Ribaldry and his ill Nature; and this Author makes one W. C. without any other Proof but his bare Word, to declare, That they have inſulted the Fallen, the Friendleſs, the Exil'd, and the Dead. It is plain, he would in this Place put his W. C. upon us for one not well affected to our preſent Eſtabliſhment. It is very well there is no ſuch Perſon as this W. C. If there ſhould be ſuch a one, and he ſhould have a Place under the Government, what Cha⯑ſtiſement would not this low Author merit, for putting theſe Words into his Mouth. We do very well know ſome People have fallen in the unhappy Diviſions of our Country (as he gently terms the late unnatural Rebellion) ſome are Friendleſs, ſome Exil'd, and others Dead, and therefore, thoſe who have written againſt theſe People, muſt bear the Laſh of our Author's Satyr; if it be true that they have inſulted theſe People, let our Author remember, that they firſt inſulted their Country and its Laws.

This ſame Friend of his goes on, and does now diſcover ſome Fears that hang about him, leaſt he ſhould be taken for a Fool or a Knave, by keeping Mr. P [...] Company; though it luckily happens, that his wri⯑ting this Letter has determined his Character; yet he very judiciouſly conceives, it was his Duty to vindicate him in Print from all Calum⯑ny, or to be deemed either the One or the Other; ſo that ac⯑cording to this Notion, all the Acquaintance of Mr. P [...] are oblig'd to Print in his Vindication, or to be eſteemed Fools or Knaves: Here the Author puts forth his whole Head.

[6] This can only be the over-weening Conceit of a Self-ſufficient Writer; an aſſuming ſpurious Claſſick, aſſerting his Supremacy, and demanding Obedience, as you will ſee; for immediately after this, he affects the Regal Stile; he cauſes his W. C. to proclaim his Royalty, and ac⯑cordingly he iſſues his Edicts, That all Offenders againſt him ſhall be chaſtiſed: He likens them to Aſſaſſins; he ſays, Poverty ſhall not be any Excuſe, nor to be pleaded before him, no more than at the Old Baily, neither ſhall they, ſays he, receive the Benefit of the Clergy. But ſome Time after this, his Majeſty cools, he is graciouſly pleas'd to ſhew Mercy, and he makes his Herald W. C. to grant his Dunces a little Bread, and a little Fame. How ridiculous is it, to ſee a di⯑minutive ſtrutting Thing, erecting himſelf into a Mock-Sovereign: A modeſt Homuncio, who at the ſame Time that he privately aſſaſ⯑ſinates, calls thoſe whom he wounds, Aſſaſſins? But let us conſider this Author of the Dunciad, as he really is, a Perſon Poetically mad, jealous of Fame, and envious of every Rival, graſping at the ſmalleſt Shadow of Reputation, all his Attention fix'd to one Point, raving after imaginary Honours, and ſeeking Infamy in Fame, and we ſhall incline to Pity rather than Cenſure. This throws into ones Mind the Situation of the Mad Taylor in Bedlam, who called himſelf Alexan⯑der the Great, was gracious, and bountiful, and juſt, and cruel, and victo⯑rious, and good, and bad, as thoſe Ideas ſtruck his ſick Brain.

By this Time, Sir, you may imagine, I am not a little weary of raking into this Heap of Nonſenſe and Vanity now before me; but as I now caſt my Eye forward, I can't help obſerving upon this ima⯑ginary Letter Writer, where he tells us, The Author of the Dunciad has a Contempt for the Writings of thoſe he has written againſt: This is not at all unlikely; One very ſeldom has a good Opinion of thoſe whom one has an ill Opinion of; but they are Dunces, and ſhould be abuſed for pretending to Wit: If this be the Caſe, nei⯑ther the Great Scriblerus, nor W. C. nor Mr. P [...] himſelf, are exempt from the Laſh of Satyr; for Great, Dignify'd, Letter'd, as they are, ſomebody may Print and declare them Dunces, and attempt to diſplace this Stupendous Magiſtrate and all his mad Miniſtry, who uſurp the Throne of Wit. What a very Scanderberg of an Author is this!

W. C. I mean the Author of the Dunciad, in his Name, goes on and compares Boileau to himſelf: What has the Great Boileau done, to deſerve to be compared with an inſignificant Ribald? But as he is now concluding his elegant Epiſtle, he makes W. C. as is uſual in the [7] Beginning of a new Reign, to publiſh an Act of Grace, and Mercy is offered to thoſe who ſhall repent and merit it: Theſe are his Royal Words by W. C. If ever He (the Author of the Dunciad) ſhall give us an Edition of this Poem himſelf, I may ſee ſome of them treated as gently (on their Repentance and better Mind) as Perault and Quinault were at laſt by Boileau.

This little bouncing mock Emperor concludes in the Name of W. C. with this ſingular Obſervation on Mr. P [...]'s Modeſty, that he never wrote a Line, that he was ever aſham'd or unwilling to own. Now, I think it is impoſſible any Perſon but Mr. P. himſelf can be aſſur'd of this, at leaſt, nobody but Mr. P. can know that Mr. P. has no manner of Grace, or Modeſty, or Morals; and he muſt be a very Blunderer of a Letter-Writer, who could venture to aſſure the Publick ſo, and in the Name of one, who pretends to be ambitious of being call'd his Friend.

If now, Sir, after all the Reaſons I have given to the contrary, this W. C. ſhould happen to be an Exiſtence ſeparate from Scriblerus it appears however, very plainly, from his Manner of Thinking, that he is very like him, and therefore might eaſily be miſtaken for him. In this Caſe, we can only ſay, that the Paſſion of Friendſhip has miſled him, and we muſt forgive the Weakneſs of his Head, for the Warmth of his Heart. This Praiſe-worthy Zeal, for maintaining a Cauſe, the Goodneſs or Bad⯑neſs of which, the Advocate is abſolutely ignorant of, reminds me of a Story, told me by a very merry old Fellow, who was in his Youth enroll'd as a private Gentleman in the Life-Guards of King William: He was in Eſteem with the reſt of the Troop, as a Soldier of Let⯑ters, and was call'd by the Gentlemen of the Belt, by Way of Di⯑ſtinction, The Schollar. This Character he bore unrival'd for ſome Time, 'till a Brother of the Sword, grew jealous of his Reputation, and ſet up againſt him. His Rival, who had been Book-keeper to a Carrier, (and from thence derived his Title to Letters) took every Op⯑portunity of oppoſing him, when any Subject, a little out of the Reach of the reſt of the Company, was ſtarted. One Evening, my Friend, in the Height of his Argument, threw out a Sentence of Tully, and was immediately taken up by his Antagoniſt for falſe Latin; the De⯑bate ran high, the Troop divided upon the Point, and yet were un⯑willing to determine poſitively in a Cauſe, into the Merits of which, they could not ſee; 'till one, who was the Book-keeper's Comrade, a very brave, tho' not a learned Man, pull'd him by the Sleeve, and leading him into a private Room, directed him to lay his Hand upon his Heart, and inform him, upon his Honour, Whether the [8] Words ſpoken, were true or falſe Latin? And being anſwer'd, upon his Honour they were falſe Latin; he return'd immediately into the Circle of the Warriors they had left, and placing his Hand on his Sword, declar'd with great Intrepidity, That the Latin the Gentleman had ſpoken, was falſe Latin, and he would maintain it.

TOGETHER, with the Dunciad, I am to return your Lord⯑ſhip many Thanks for the Loan of ſo uncommon a Piece, which cannot but be highly welcome to all the true Lovers of Scandal, ſince it leaves them no Room to doubt, as to moſt of the Perſons libell'd in it. You were pleas'd to aſſure me, my Lord, that it was left at your Houſe by an unknown Hand, and that you were an utter Stranger both to the Author and to the Nature of his Performance. It is but reaſonable therefore, that I ſhould ſa⯑tisfy [10] your Lordſhip, as to theſe two Particulars, in Return for your Goodneſs in lending me this Book, when I had ſought for it in vain, by the Means of all the Bookſellers and Publiſhers in Town. It may not be improper at the ſame Time to acquaint you, that Copies have been left at many Peers Houſes, in the ſame Manner as your Lord⯑ſhip's was, whilſt the Favourites of the Author have had whole Cargoes ſent them to diſpoſe of. Thus has a little inſignificant Lampooner, with unparallell'd Impudence, made People of the firſt Quality, privy to, and ſome of them innocently Publiſhers of his Scandal; for which, doubtleſs he will be chaſtiſed as he deſerves.

I find at the Head of this Libel, a long ſtupid Letter, which tho' ſub⯑ſcrib'd by another Name, muſt doubtleſs by Scriblerus's, or, which is the ſame Thing, the Author of the Dunciad's Encomium upon him⯑ſelf. He has, I know not with what Intent, brought in the Praiſes too of one Mr. Pope, maliciouſly inſinuating, that this Poem was of his compoſing, which one would fancy it impoſſible it ſhould be; for that Writer, after having acquir'd the Dignity of a Poet, would ſurely never condeſcend to accept of the Office of Scavenger, and rake into all the Filth of the Town. I confeſs, I at firſt conceiv'd the Name ſub⯑ſcribed to this Letter, to be ſuch an one as Scriblerus, but I have been ſince aſſured, that it is no fictitious Name, but the real one of a Perſon now living, who is deeply read in the Indexes of Books and the Secret Hiſtories of Families. Whether this be the Letter-writer's eſtabliſh'd Character or not, the World muſt judge; but this I will venture to affirm, that as the Real Author of the Dunciad can add no Reputation to this William Cleland, ſo this William Cleland can add no Reputation to the Author of the Dunciad. Should there be any Thing here like the Aſſociation between the Lion and the Jackcall, I believe in this Caſe, the Jackcall would prove the greater Beaſt of the Two: Not that I would be hereby thought to exclude this Perſon from any Title he may have to the other of theſe Appellations. I remember to have been preſent at a Trial for a Rape, wherein, the Girl, to prove her former Chaſtity, brought in an old Bawd for her Evidence: Doubt⯑leſs this Story will admit of no Application in the preſent Caſe; but to uſe a Scrap of this Man's own Scrap of Latin, FASTIDITIS GRATIAM.

Being then oblig'd to preſume, that Mr. Pope's known Veracity and good Nature would not admit him to be ſuſpected of having wrote ſuch an Heap of Lies and Abuſe as is contained in the Dunciad; I have uſed my ut⯑moſt Endeavours to diſcover the true Author of that Poem, and having [11] ſucceeded in my Reſearch, I have prefix'd to this Tract his Effigies, as it has been exactly tranſcrib'd from a Buſto, which was return'd upon a certain ingenious Sculptor's Hand, for reſembling, in a moſt unflattering Manner, the Original. By the rueful Features of it, I am confident your Lordſhip will immediately diſcover who is the renown'd Father of the Dunciad.

You will not, I am ſure, expect that I ſhould enter into an Ex⯑amination of the Poetical Merit of that Piece; that would ſubject me to a Taſk, for which I am wholly unfit; I mean, the reading it a ſecond Time. But I am well inform'd, that the Reception which the firſt Edition met with from the Town, ſhewed that the Perfor⯑mance was thought as mean as the Deſign. In my curſory View of it, tho' I met with ſome Lines here and there Poetical enough, yet I thought the Generality of them very Proſaick, the whole Tale looſe and unconnected, the Tranſitions unnatural, the Parodies on the moſt admir'd Paſſages of the Ancients, were not only too frequent, but likewiſe too faintly and poorly wrought up, either to ſtrike or de⯑light the Reader; and beſides, the Naſtineſs of the Games, and of all the Imagery in the Poem, the very Language often ſunk into downright Ribaldry, as when a Gentlewomans Breaſts are ſtiled her Fore-Buttocks or her Cow-like Udders. Upon the whole, I judg'd this Dunciad to be below all Criticiſm, both as to its Stile and Verſifi⯑cation.

Indeed, the Morality of it, as well as of the Notes of Scriblerus and Variorum, may deſerve a much ſtricter Scrutiny. Felons in the Condemn'd Hold at Newgate, who have no Characters to forfeit, and but little Enjoyment of Life to loſe, may venture to attack the Re⯑putations of other Men, without Fear or Shame; but, unleſs under thoſe Circumſtances, none but a Madman could be tempted to do it. How ſhall I aſtoniſh your Lordſhip then, when I aſſure you, that no deſperate Raver, but a poor Reptile; who, as he is the moſt helpleſs, is likewiſe the moſt timid Creature living, has acted this Part. He is become a voluntary Priſoner to his own Houſe, rather than not enjoy the pitiful Pleaſure of aſperſing with Impunity, Perſons, all of them better Members of the Community than himſelf, and many of them of a much higher Rank in Life than he muſt ever pretend to; who can only derive a Mock Title, not from his Anceſtors, but his Shoulders. In his firſt Edition he had traduc'd certain Characters, for which every one has always had the utmoſt Veneration, and thinks now, by leaving out the Names of ſome, and falſly filling up the [12] Blanks of others, as well as by abſconding for a Time, to eſcape the Stripes that ought to be the juſt Reward of ſuch Writings. How mon⯑ſtrous therefore has it been, to inſinuate, that they have reach'd a Preſence, where Good Nature, Truth, and Humanity only can be gra⯑ciouſly receiv'd or encourag'd; the Reverſe whereof are the Characte⯑riſticks of the Dunciad?

I am ſenſible that the Retailers in Scandal have always endeavour'd to paſs upon the World by the laudable Appellation of Satyriſts, and would take Shelter under the great Names of Horace, Juvenal, and Boileau. Not conſidering, that theſe Precedents will never be to their Purpoſe; thoſe generous Correctors of Vice, never attack'd Perſons, but Errors, nor ever expos'd the private Character, but the publick Ap⯑pearance of Men, at the ſame Time taking eſpecial Care to pay the ſtricteſt Regard to Truth, even while the Scourge was in their Hands; and therefore, Boileau, in his own Vindication, ſpeaking of Chapelain, who was a bad Poet, ſays,

I muſt likewiſe inform this half-learned Tribe, that the Codrus of Ju⯑venal, which theſe abuſive Writers ſo often quote for their Juſtification, was no real Perſon, but a Name deſign'd in general to ſignify any bad Poet.

True and juſt Satyr will always have its Weight; Scandal will al⯑ways be condemn'd: The one is beneficial to Society, the other is detri⯑mental to it. Whenſoever a Man has taken upon himſelf the Profeſ⯑ſion of any Art or Science, by Writing, or otherwiſe, he has certainly ſubmitted his Talents therein to the Judgment of the World. A Wri⯑ter therefore, who in that Art or Science, conſiſtent with good Man⯑ners, expoſes the Defects of his Fellow Writer, be it by Ridicule or Argument, is guilty of nothing that is blameable, but rather does a Praiſe-worthy Action, by endeavouring to rectify the Judgments of Men, and prevent Pretenders to Science from impoſing on the Publick. The cenſuring an Author then, only as ſuch, is what every Man has a Right to do, from the Moment he appears in Print, Hanc Veniam peti⯑muſ (que) Damuſ (que) viciſſim. But under this Pretext to attack his private Re⯑putation, as a Member of Society, muſt be the Reſult of the ſame vil⯑lainous Principles, as would lead a Man to be guilty of Robbery or Murder, had he Courage enough for the Road. The Civil Magiſtrate [13] alone has a Right to enquire into Mens Perſonal Characters, and if they deſerve it, to expoſe and puniſh them: And it ſeems but juſt, that this Authority ſhould be veſted ſolely in him, ſince no one elſe can, with any Certainty, be inform'd of what paſſes in private Life.

The Predeceſſors of the Writer of the Dunciad, the elaborate Au⯑thors of Grubſtreet, have frequently tranſgreſs'd this equitable Rule, and finding too general a Propenſity towards enquiring into the Ble⯑miſhes of (otherwiſe) Great Characters, have ſometimes been pretty liberal of their Perſonal Reflections, in order to render their ſeveral Dunciads the more Saleable: Yet theſe Men had at leaſt ſo much Decency, as to do this under feign'd Names, or by pointing at Perſons only by their initial Letters, which were lyable to various Readings. Thus, whilſt the Obſcurity of their Scandal ſcreen'd them from Puniſhment, their very Proceeding was a tacit Confeſſion of the Guilt of ſuch Invectives. But it was doubtleſs reſerv'd for the Modeſt Author of the Dunciad to invent the Ne plus ultra of Scandal, by calling Men, every Way his Superiors, Rogues, Blockheads, Drunkards, and Liars, in Print, with their Names at length, whilſt he ſuppreſſes his own, that he may be exempt from the Fear of a very low Puniſhment, but to which his Ears ſeem to be legally intitled.

As this is my firſt Appearance in Print, I have hitherto eſcap'd the Malice of this Scandalmonger's Pen, and do not now write out of any Hatred to him, but real Love for Mankind. A Regard to Humanity, and the Rules of Society, have rais'd in me an Indignation againſt a Wri⯑ter, who has the Inſolence to appear in Publick, in Defiance of them all. I am reſolv'd, therefore (tho' ſuch a Procedure, with Relation to any honeſt Man would be deteſtable) to mark him to the World; let us examine a little into the Character of this diminutive Creature, who makes ſo free with thoſe of other Men.

I find, that upon his firſt coming to Town, out of pure Compaſſion for his exotick Figure, narrow Circumſtances, and humble Appearance, the late Mr. Wycherley admitted him into his Society, and ſuffer'd him, notwithſtanding his Make, to be his humble admirer at Will's; and af⯑terwards finding in him a glimmering of Genius, recommended him to ſome People of Rank, and introduc'd him to the moſt eminent Men of Letters; which Courteſy he ſoon after repaid with a ſatyrical Copy of Verſes on his Benefactor: This put an End to their Correſpondence ſome Time before Mr. Wycherley dy'd. His Acquaintance by this Means being made with Sir Richard Steele, and Mr. Addiſon, they likewiſe, in Compaſſion to his unhappy Form, and deſtitute Condition, [14] endeavoured to procure him a Support under both, by ſetting on Foot a Subſcription in his Behalf; it was, indeed, for a Work, which (as has ſince appeared) they muſt have known he was not equal to; but they hoped, with their friendly Aſſiſtance, to have ſupply'd his Defects. However, his Subſcriptions were no ſooner full, when the little miſ⯑chievous Urchin, no longer able to contain his Malice, wrote a Satyr upon both theſe Gentlemen, (as he did afterwards an abuſive Libel on one of them;) and as many Things which had paſs'd in private Con⯑verſation at Button's Coffee-houſe, came to be known by the Lord O [...], of which Infidelity Scriblerus was ſuſpected, he was obliged to abſent himſelf for ſome Years from thence. After this, he liſted openly in the Tory Service, and every Week publiſh'd ſcandalous Invectives on thoſe very Whigs, who had been his ampleſt Subſcribers. He was in this ho⯑nourable Occupation, when the late Queen dy'd; and our Poet ſoon changing his Note, found Means to be introduced to ſome of the young Ladies of the Court. Four of theſe, who were his beſt Friends and Patroneſſes, (as they are to any Thing that carries the Face of Wit or Learning) he abuſed in a Scurvy Ballad, for which any other Man would have received Correction; but in his Caſe, theſe generous Ladies contented themſelves with ſhewing a Contempt of his Malice, and baniſhing him their Company. This did not hinder him from wri⯑ting a ſecond Lampoon, wherein he ſpared not the moſt exalted Cha⯑racters, though under feigned Names; and adding Treachery to Ill-Nature, he threw the ſcandalous Imputation of having wrote this Libel, on a Lady of Quality, whoſe Wit is equal to her Beauty, and whoſe Character might have ſuffer'd by this impudent Forgery of his. But I begin to be tired, as I believe your Lordſhip is too, with raking into the dirty Parts of this foul Character. I ſhall therefore paſs over the many other low Scenes of his Life, to come to his Maſter-piece of Scandal, the DUNCIAD. This miſhapen Lump of Malice and Ill-nature, at the earneſt Requeſt of all his Friends, who feared his Abuſe more than his Enemies, had for ſome Years forborn writing Lampoons, except it were on a Curl or a Lintot; when at laſt, grown weary of this Reſtraint, and unable to live in Peace with Society, he collected a Liſt of Names, yet unabuſed by him, and reſolved to throw them together into one Satyr. To furniſh himſelf, therefore, with Matter, he went round all his Cully Bookſellers, enquiring for Scandal of any Kind; and an abuſive Story being told him, of a Parſon in Drink, which the Relater thought could not come within his Scheme of Satyr, as reflecting upon one that had never appear'd in Print; he told him [15] that he was reſolved to put it down to Laurus; for as to the Truth of it, the Town would never be at the Trouble to enquire into that.

Thus compiled, and thus compoſed, the DUNCIAD made its Appearance laſt Summer, and was ſo univerſally exploded for its wit⯑leſs Ill-nature and Falſhood, that the Gentlemen traduced in it, being only pointed at by their Initial Letters, did not think it worth their Care to correct the Author, in the Manner he deſerv'd. Yet I have been credibly inform'd, that ſome of them reſorted to no Place where Scriblerus might poſſibly be met with, without the Proviſion of a Rod, to whip this Old Boy, for his untoward Malice. But he abſconding for above a Month, and the Scandal having hurt no Creature, but the Au⯑thor himſelf, their Reſentment cool'd; and the little Lampooner might have been at Peace, had he not wantonly reviv'd the Memory of his former Malice, by reprinting this pitiful Poem on Royal Paper, giving at full Length the Names of moſt of thoſe mention'd in It; together with a Comment more abuſive than the Text; which he publiſhed under an Appellation very proper to himſelf, I mean that of Scrib⯑lerus. This was ſuch a conſummate Piece of Inſolence, as one would think could admit of no Aggravation; yet he found Means to add one Degree of Impudence more to it, by preſuming at firſt to make Men of Rank and Quality, in a Manner, his Publiſhers.

Your Lordſhip may wonder, that one, who has conducted himſelf after this Manner, ſhould not have ſuffer'd under the due Correction of ſome of thoſe, whom he has thus wantonly abuſed. It is moſt certain, that nothing in the Figure of a Man, could have eſcaped Puniſhment, for ſuch repeated Inſults, many of them on Perſons of Diſtinction. But this Poetaſter having unhappily a Reſemblance in his Size and Make, to the Animal much inferior to Man; it ſeems he has been univerſally look'd upon, as beneath the Dignity of Reſentment. Upon this Occa⯑ſion, I cannot but call to Mind a Story (which I have ſomewhere read) of an honeſt Highlander, who was walking along Holborn, when he heard a Voice cry, Rogue Scot, Rogue Scot, his Northern Blood fired at the Inſult, and he drew his broad Sword, looking round him on every Side, to diſcover the Object of his Indignation, when at laſt he found that the Voice came from a Parrot, perch'd on a Balcony within his Reach; But the Generous Scot, diſdaining to ſtain his Truſty Blade with ſuch ignoble Blood, put up his Sword again, with a ſour Smile, ſaying, Gin ye were a Mon, as ye're a Green Geuſe, I would ſplit your Weem.

[16] A Sword, indeed, has never been deem'd a Weapon fit for the Cor⯑rection of Libellers. Therſites, who, in Mr. Pope's Homer, reſembles our Author, both in Shape and Malice, was cudgell'd by Ulyſſes, for his faucy Language to his Betters. Aretin, the only Author, beſides that of the Dunciad, within theſe Three Hundred Years, that acquired a famous Infamy by his Pen, bragg'd of keeping many Kings and Prin⯑ces tributary to him, in order to purchaſe an Exemption from his Sa⯑tyrs. Yet it ſeems, ſome of the Princes of his own Country found out a better Method of dealing with him; for having been abuſed by him, they order'd the inſolent Creature ſuch a Baſtinado, as at once put an End to his Satyrical Vein. And being by this Treatment brought to himſelf, he had ſuch a true Senſe of his vile Character, that he turned his Mind wholly toward Devotion: In which Strain he wrote many Books with ſuch Succeſs, as to obtain at length, the Name of the Di⯑vine Aretin. Should the like Treatment of the Father of the Dunciad produce the like Effect, what Service might he not be of to Religion, by compoſing Pious Hymns, for the great Feſtivals of the Year, and perhaps by a Tranſlation of all the Pſalms, the firſt of which, it ſeems, he has already imitated in a moſt edifying Manner? Were Scriblerus to undertake the whole Pſalms, and perform that Work with the Juſtneſs and Accuracy of his other Tranſlations, it might not only eclipſe Stern⯑hold and Hopkins, but even vie with that of Tate and Brady: And then, what would not the Publick owe to thoſe, who, by the Human Means of a Stick, ſhould have wrought ſo uſeful, as well as praeter natu⯑ral a Converſion.

But Aretin had the Shape of a Man, and might bear a Beating; whereas, our Poet muſt of Neceſſity expire under the very firſt Blow; and he can, by the Structure of his Perſon, only be liable to one Sort of Correction, that of the Rod; which ſome Years ago Mr. Ambroſe Philips, being abuſed by him, bought for his Uſe, and ſtuck up at the Bar of Button's Coffee-houſe; and which he avoided by his uſual Practice after every Lampoon, of remaining a cloſe Priſoner at Home. The ſame Diſcipline was prepar'd for him laſt Summer, which he eſcap'd in the Manner abovementioned; and I am inform'd, that the Rods are now ready for his Chaſtiſement, as ſoon as he ſhall be found in a proper Place for whipping.

In the mean Time, as all Criminals who fly from Juſtice are exe⯑cuted in Effigie, his Figure is expoſed, and four Inſcriptions under it, on the ſeveral Sides of the Pedeſtal, in Greek, Latin, Spaniſh, and Engliſh. In the Greek and Latin, for having offended thoſe Languages, [17] by preſuming to tranſlate or imitate what he did not underſtand: And in his native Tongue, for having made his Britiſh Muſe, which ought to be chaſte and delicate, to ſpeak the Language of the Stews, and of Billingſgate. The Spaniſh Inſcription carries in it an Inſtruc⯑tion which might have been of uſe to him had he read it, before he became a Libeller inſtead of a Satyriſt. This curious Image having been communicated to me, by one of thoſe who are abuſed in the Dunciad, in whoſe Poſſeſſion it now is, I thought it proper to take a Cut from it, which I have prefix'd to this Publication.

Whenſoever it happens, that a worthy Mind is lodg'd in a deform'd Body, I am perſwaded that all vertuous Men commiſerate the Caſe, and far from indulging any Reflections on the Figure, would uſe their utmoſt Endeavours to make both the Owner and the reſt of the World forget it: But when, as is the ſad Fate of the Author of the Dunciad, a crooked Carcaſs is become the Habitation of a much more crooked Mind; and when this Creature, far from being hum⯑bled by the irregularity of the Form aſſign'd him by Providence, makes the very Deſpicableneſs of it a Protection to him, for venting ſuch Malice, as he would not dare to utter, were he a poſſible Mark for Indignation to lay hold of. I think, in ſuch a Caſe, Mind and Body, which ſeem ſo well adapted to each other, ſhould go together, and be jointly exhibited and expos'd to the Contempt of that Society, which can have no other Reparations made them, for the Injuries of ſuch an untoward Animal.

A vertuous Man has ſtrongly implanted in him a Philanthropy or innate Humanity, which reſtrains him from reflecting too ſeverely on the Frailties of his Fellow Creatures, as remembring, that they are all of them of one Species. But Scriblerus diſtinguiſhed indeed, in a moſt remarkable Manner, by Nature, from the reſt of Mankind; has no Tenderneſs or Regard for them, but looks upon himſelf as one of a quite different Race of Beings; nor ſhall I ever look upon him in another Light.

Where, indeed, is the Definition of Man, to which he can be ſaid to anſwer? If [...] be the Term, can he have the Aſſurance to pre⯑tend to that Characteriſtick, who looks with Envy on every Thing that contributes to the Peace or Benefit of Society, and is never happy, but when he is creating Feuds and Animoſities even amongſt the moſt intimate of his Acquintance? If Man be ſtiled a Rational Crea⯑ture, will Scriblerus come within that Deſcription, who knowing how little able he is to defend either his own Character or Perſon, wan⯑tonly [18] begins the Attack on others? Man is often defined to be a Ri⯑ſible Animal; were this meant to denote a Creature that we laugh at, the Author of the Dunciad would bid fair to be comprehended; but all the Grammarians agree, that it ſignifies an Animal ſuſceptible of Laugh⯑ter, which, Scriblerus was never in good Humour enough, with him⯑ſelf, or others, to be, nor has he been obſerv'd, ſince the Hour of his Birth, to have riſen above a broad Grin, common to him with the Quadrupede, moſt reſembling Human Nature. Thus, whatſoever is the Definition, He ſtill appears excluded from the Human Species, which may in ſome Meaſure account for, as well as excuſe his univerſal ill Will to our Race.

As I find that this laſt pompous Edition of the Dunciad is in Quarto, I have conform'd myſelf to that Size in this Publication, that your Lordſhip may be enabled to bind up this true Account of the Au⯑thor and his Effigies with the Work it ſelf, ſince all of them ſeem calculated for one and the ſame Purpoſe, to make his Infamy immor⯑tal, and his Malice contemptible.

I have the Pleaſure to give your Lordſhip in Publick, this Teſtimo⯑ny of my Obedience, and of the Reſpect with which