Part 21

Nor absent they, no members of her state, Who pay her homage in her sons, the great; Who, false to Phoebus, bow the knee to Baal; Or, impious, preach his word without a call. Patrons, who sneak from living worth to dead, Withhold the pension, and set up the head; Or vest dull flattery in the sacred gown; Or give from fool to fool the laurel crown. And (last and worst) with all the cant of wit, Without the soul, the Muse's hypocrite. 100

There march'd the bard and blockhead, side by side, Who rhymed for hire, and patronised for pride. Narcissus,[388] praised with all a parson's power, Look'd a white lily sunk beneath a shower. There moved Montalto with superior air; His stretch'd-out arm display'd a volume fair; Courtiers and patriots in two ranks divide, Through both he pass'd, and bow'd from side to side; But as in graceful act, with awful eye Composed he stood, bold Benson[389] thrust him by: 110 On two unequal crutches propp'd he came, Milton's on this, on that one Johnston's name. The decent knight[390] retired with sober rage, Withdrew his hand, and closed the pompous page. But (happy for him as the times went then) Appear'd Apollo's mayor and aldermen, On whom three hundred gold-capp'd youths await, To lug the ponderous volume off in state.

When Dulness, smiling--'Thus revive the wits! But murder first, and mince them all to bits; 120 As erst Medea (cruel, so to save!) A new edition of old Aeson gave; Let standard authors, thus, like trophies borne, Appear more glorious as more hack'd and torn. And you, my critics! in the chequer'd shade, Admire new light through holes yourselves have made. Leave not a foot of verse, a foot of stone, A page, a grave, that they can call their own; But spread, my sons, your glory thin or thick, On passive paper, or on solid brick. 130 So by each bard an alderman[391] shall sit, A heavy lord shall hang at every wit, And while on Fame's triumphal car they ride, Some slave of mine be pinion'd to their side.'

Now crowds on crowds around the goddess press, Each eager to present the first address. Dunce scorning dunce beholds the next advance, But fop shows fop superior complaisance. When, lo! a spectre rose, whose index-hand Held forth the virtue of the dreadful wand; 140 His beaver'd brow a birchen garland wears, Dropping with infants' blood and mothers' tears. O'er every rein a shuddering horror runs; Eton and Winton shake through all their sons. All flesh is humbled, Westminster's bold race Shrink, and confess the genius of the place: The pale boy-senator yet tingling stands, And holds his breeches close with both his hands.

Then thus: 'Since man from beast by words is known, Words are man's province, words we teach alone, 150 When reason doubtful, like the Samian letter,[392] Points him two ways, the narrower is the better. Placed at the door of Learning, youth to guide, We never suffer it to stand too wide. To ask, to guess, to know, as they commence, As fancy opens the quick springs of sense, We ply the memory, we load the brain, Bind rebel wit, and double chain on chain, Confine the thought, to exercise the breath, And keep them in the pale of words till death. 160 Whate'er the talents, or howe'er design'd, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind: A poet the first day he dips his quill; And what the last? a very poet still. Pity! the charm works only in our wall, Lost, lost too soon in yonder House or Hall.[393] There truant Wyndham every Muse gave o'er, There Talbot sunk, and was a wit no more! How sweet an Ovid, Murray was our boast! How many Martials were in Pulteney lost! 170 Else sure some bard, to our eternal praise, In twice ten thousand rhyming nights and days, Had reach'd the work, the all that mortal can, And South beheld that master-piece of man.'[394]

'Oh (cried the goddess) for some pedant reign! Some gentle James,[395] to bless the land again; To stick the doctor's chair into the throne, Give law to words, or war with words alone, Senates and courts with Greek and Latin rule, And turn the council to a grammar school! 180 For sure, if Dulness sees a grateful day, 'Tis in the shade of arbitrary sway. Oh! if my sons may learn one earthly thing, Teach but that one, sufficient for a king; That which my priests, and mine alone, maintain, Which as it dies or lives, we fall or reign: May you, may Cam and Isis, preach it long! "The right divine of kings to govern wrong."'

Prompt at the call, around the goddess roll Broad hats, and hoods, and caps, a sable shoal: 190 Thick and more thick the black blockade extends, A hundred head of Aristotle's friends. Nor wert thou, Isis! wanting to the day, Though Christ-church long kept prudishly away. Each stanch polemic, stubborn as a rock, Each fierce logician, still expelling Locke,[396] Came whip and spur, and dash'd through thin and thick On German Crousaz,[397] and Dutch Burgersdyck. As many quit the streams[398] that murmuring fall To lull the sons of Margaret and Clare-hall, 200 Where Bentley late tempestuous wont to sport In troubled waters, but now sleeps in port.[399] Before them march'd that awful Aristarch! Plough'd was his front with many a deep remark: His hat, which never vail'd to human pride, Walker with reverence took, and laid aside. Low bow'd the rest: he, kingly, did but nod; So upright Quakers please both man and God. 'Mistress! dismiss that rabble from your throne: Avaunt! is Aristarchus yet unknown? 210 Thy mighty scholiast, whose unwearied pains Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains. Turn what they will to verse, their toil is vain, Critics like me shall make it prose again. Roman and Greek grammarians! know your better, Author of something yet more great than letter;[400] While towering o'er your alphabet, like Saul, Stands our digamma,[401] and o'ertops them all.

''Tis true, on words is still our whole debate, Disputes of _me_ or _te_, of _aut_ or _at_, 220 To sound or sink in _cano_, O or A, Or give up Cicero[402] to C or K. Let Freind[403] affect to speak as Terence spoke, And Alsop never but like Horace joke: For me, what Virgil, Pliny, may deny, Manilius or Solinus[404] shall supply: For Attic phrase in Plato let them seek, I poach in Suidas[405] for unlicensed Greek. In ancient sense if any needs will deal, Be sure I give them fragments, not a meal; 230 What Gellius or Stobaeus hash'd before, Or chew'd by blind old scholiasts o'er and o'er, The critic eye, that microscope of wit, Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit: How parts relate to parts, or they to whole, The body's harmony, the beaming soul, Are things which Kuster, Burman, Wasse shall see, When Man's whole frame is obvious to a flea.

'Ah, think not, mistress! more true Dulness lies In Folly's cap, than Wisdom's grave disguise; 240 Like buoys, that never sink into the flood, On Learning's surface we but lie and nod. Thine is the genuine head of many a house, And much divinity[406] without a [Greek: Nous]. Nor could a Barrow work on every block, Nor has one Atterbury spoil'd the flock. See! still thy own, the heavy cannon roll, And metaphysic smokes involve the pole. For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head With all such reading as was never read: 250 For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, And write about it, goddess, and about it: So spins the silk-worm small its slender store, And labours till it clouds itself all o'er.

'What though we let some better sort of fool Thrid every science, run through every school? Never by tumbler through the hoops was shown Such skill in passing all, and touching none. He may indeed (if sober all this time) Plague with dispute, or persecute with rhyme. 260 We only furnish what he cannot use, Or wed to what he must divorce, a Muse: Full in the midst of Euclid dip at once, And petrify a genius to a dunce;[407] Or, set on metaphysic ground to prance, Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement, ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind. Then take him to develop, if you can, And hew the block off,[408] and get out the man. 270 But wherefore waste I words? I see advance Whore, pupil, and laced governor from France. Walker! our hat,'--nor more he deign'd to say, But, stern as Ajax' spectre,[409] strode away.

In flow'd at once a gay embroider'd race, And tittering push'd the pedants off the place: Some would have spoken, but the voice was drown'd By the French horn, or by the opening hound. The first came forwards,[410] with an easy mien, As if he saw St James's[411] and the queen; 280 When thus the attendant orator begun: 'Receive, great empress! thy accomplish'd son: Thine from the birth, and sacred from the rod, A dauntless infant! never scared with God. The sire saw, one by one, his virtues wake: The mother begg'd the blessing of a rake. Thou gav'st that ripeness which so soon began, And ceased so soon--he ne'er was boy nor man; Through school and college, thy kind cloud o'ercast, Safe and unseen the young AEneas pass'd: 290 Thence bursting glorious, all at once let down, Stunn'd with his giddy 'larum half the town. Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew: Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too. There all thy gifts and graces we display, Thou, only thou, directing all our way, To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs, Pours at great Bourbon's feet her silken sons; Or Tiber, now no longer Roman, rolls, Vain of Italian arts, Italian souls: 300 To happy convents, bosom'd deep in vines, Where slumber abbots, purple as their wines: To isles of fragrance, lily-silver'd vales,[412] Diffusing languor in the panting gales: To lands of singing or of dancing slaves, Love-whispering woods, and lute-resounding waves. But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps, And Cupids ride the lion of the deeps;[413] Where, eased of fleets, the Adriatic main Wafts the smooth eunuch and enamour'd swain, 310 Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round, And gather'd every vice on Christian ground; Saw every court, heard every king declare His royal sense of operas or the fair; The stews and palace equally explored, Intrigued with glory, and with spirit whored; Tried all hors-d'oeuvres, all liqueurs defined, Judicious drank, and greatly-daring dined;[414] Dropp'd the dull lumber of the Latin store, Spoil'd his own language, and acquired no more; 320 All classic learning lost on classic ground; And last turned air, the echo of a sound! See now, half-cured, and perfectly well-bred, With nothing but a solo in his head; As much estate, and principle, and wit, As Jansen, Fleetwood, Cibber[415] shall think fit; Stolen from a duel, follow'd by a nun, And, if a borough choose him, not undone; See, to my country happy I restore This glorious youth, and add one Venus more. 330 Her too receive (for her my soul adores), So may the sons of sons of sons of whores Prop thine, O empress! like each neighbour throne, And make a long posterity thy own.' Pleased, she accepts the hero, and the dame Wraps in her veil, and frees from sense of shame.

Then look'd, and saw a lazy, lolling sort, Unseen at church, at senate, or at court, Of ever-listless loiterers that attend No cause, no trust, no duty, and no friend. 340 Thee, too, my Paridel![416] she marked thee there, Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair, And heard thy everlasting yawn confess The pains and penalties of idleness. She pitied! but her pity only shed Benigner influence on thy nodding head. But Annius,[417] crafty seer, with ebon wand, And well-dissembled emerald on his hand, False as his gems, and canker'd as his coins, Came, cramm'd with capon, from where Pollio dines. 350 Soft, as the wily fox is seen to creep, Where bask on sunny banks the simple sheep, Walk round and round, now prying here, now there, So he; but pious, whisper'd first his prayer.

'Grant, gracious goddess! grant me still to cheat,[418] Oh may thy cloud still cover the deceit! Thy choicer mists on this assembly shed, But pour them thickest on the noble head. So shall each youth, assisted by our eyes, See other Caesars, other Homers rise; 360 Through twilight ages hunt the Athenian fowl,[419] Which Chalcis gods, and mortals call an owl, Now see an Attys, now a Cecrops[420] clear, Nay, Mahomet! the pigeon at thine ear; Be rich in ancient brass, though not in gold, And keep his Lares, though his house be sold; To headless Phoebe his fair bride postpone, Honour a Syrian prince above his own; Lord of an Otho, if I vouch it true; Bless'd in one Niger, till he knows of two.' 370

Mummius[421] o'erheard him; Mummius, fool-renown'd, Who like his Cheops[422] stinks above the ground, Fierce as a startled adder, swell'd, and said, Rattling an ancient sistrum at his head;

'Speak'st thou of Syrian prince?[423] Traitor base! Mine, goddess! mine is all the horned race. True, he had wit to make their value rise; From foolish Greeks to steal them was as wise; More glorious yet, from barbarous hands to keep, When Sallee rovers chased him on the deep. 380 Then, taught by Hermes, and divinely bold, Down his own throat he risk'd the Grecian gold, Received each demi-god, with pious care, Deep in his entrails--I revered them there, I bought them, shrouded in that Irving shrine, And, at their second birth, they issue mine.'

'Witness, great Ammon![424] by whose horns I swore, (Replied soft Annius) this our paunch before Still bears them, faithful; and that thus I eat, Is to refund the medals with the meat. 390 To prove me, goddess! clear of all design, Bid me with Pollio sup, as well as dine: There all the learn'd shall at the labour stand, And Douglas[425] lend his soft, obstetric hand.'

The goddess smiling seem'd to give consent; So back to Pollio, hand in hand, they went.

Then thick as locusts blackening all the ground, A tribe, with weeds and shells fantastic crown'd, Each with some wondrous gift approach'd the power, A nest, a toad, a fungus, or a flower. 400 But far the foremost, two, with earnest zeal, And aspect ardent, to the throne appeal.

The first thus open'd: 'Hear thy suppliant's call, Great queen, and common mother of us all! Fair from its humble bed I rear'd this flower, Suckled, and cheer'd, with air, and sun, and shower; Soft on the paper ruff its leaves I spread, Bright with the gilded button tipp'd its head; Then throned in glass, and named it Caroline:[426] Each maid cried, charming! and each youth, divine! 410 Did Nature's pencil ever blend such rays, Such varied light in one promiscuous blaze? Now prostrate! dead! behold that Caroline: No maid cries, charming! and no youth, divine! And lo, the wretch! whose vile, whose insect lust Laid this gay daughter of the spring in dust. Oh, punish him, or to th' Elysian shades Dismiss my soul, where no carnation fades.' He ceased, and wept. With innocence of mien, Th' accused stood forth, and thus address'd the queen: 420

'Of all th' enamell'd race, whose silvery wing Waves to the tepid zephyrs of the spring, Or swims along the fluid atmosphere, Once brightest shined this child of heat and air. I saw, and started, from its vernal bower, The rising game, and chased from flower to flower; It fled, I follow'd; now in hope, now pain; It stopp'd, I stopp'd; it moved, I moved again. At last it fix'd; 'twas on what plant it pleased, And where it fix'd, the beauteous bird I seized: 430 Rose or carnation was below my care; I meddle, goddess! only in my sphere. I tell the naked fact without disguise, And, to excuse it, need but show the prize; Whose spoils this paper offers to your eye, Fair ev'n in death! this peerless butterfly.'

'My sons! (she answer'd) both have done your parts: Live happy both, and long promote our arts. But hear a mother, when she recommends To your fraternal care our sleeping friends. 440 The common soul, of Heaven's more frugal make, Serves but to keep fools pert and knaves awake: A drowsy watchman, that just gives a knock, And breaks our rest, to tell us what's a clock. Yet by some object every brain is stirr'd; The dull may waken to a humming-bird; The most recluse, discreetly open'd, find Congenial matter in the cockle-kind; The mind in metaphysics at a loss, May wander in a wilderness of moss;[427] 450 The head that turns at super-lunar things, Poised with a tail, may steer on Wilkins' wings.[428]

'Oh! would the sons of men once think their eyes And reason given them but to study flies! See nature in some partial narrow shape, And let the Author of the whole escape: Learn but to trifle; or, who most observe, To wonder at their Maker, not to serve.'

'Be that my task' (replies a gloomy clerk, Sworn foe to mystery, yet divinely dark; 460 Whose pious hope aspires to see the day When moral evidence[429] shall quite decay, And damns implicit faith, and holy lies, Prompt to impose, and fond to dogmatise:) 'Let others creep by timid steps and slow, On plain experience lay foundations low, By common sense to common knowledge bred, And last, to Nature's cause through Nature led: All-seeing in thy mists, we want no guide, Mother of arrogance, and source of pride! 470 We nobly take the high priori road,[430] And reason downward, till we doubt of God: Make Nature still[431] encroach upon his plan; And shove him off as far as e'er we can: Thrust some mechanic cause into his place; Or bind in matter, or diffuse in space.[432] Or, at one bound o'erleaping all his laws, Make God man's image, man the final cause, Find virtue local, all relation scorn, See all in self, and but for self be born: 480 Of nought so certain as our reason still, Of nought so doubtful as of soul and will. O! hide the God still more! and make us see, Such as Lucretius drew, a God like thee: Wrapt up in self, a God without a thought, Regardless of our merit or default. Or that bright image[433] to our fancy draw, Which Theocles[434] in raptured vision saw, While through poetic scenes the genius roves, Or wanders wild in academic groves; 490 That Nature our society adores,[435] Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus[436] snores.'

Roused at his name, up rose the bousy sire, And shook from out his pipe the seeds of fire; Then snapt his box, and stroked his belly down: Rosy and reverend, though without a gown. Bland and familiar to the throne he came, Led up the youth, and call'd the goddess dame. Then thus: 'From priestcraft happily set free, Lo! every finish'd son returns to thee: 500 First, slave to words,[437] then vassal to a name, Then dupe to party; child and man the same; Bounded by nature, narrow'd still by art, A trifling head, and a contracted heart; Thus bred, thus taught, how many have I seen, Smiling on all, and smiled on by a queen?[438] Mark'd out for honours, honour'd for their birth, To thee the most rebellious things on earth: Now to thy gentle shadow all are shrunk, All melted down in pension or in punk! 510 So K----, so B---- sneak'd into the grave, A monarch's half, and half a harlot's slave. Poor W----,[439] nipp'd in folly's broadest bloom, Who praises now? his chaplain on his tomb. Then take them all, oh, take them to thy breast! Thy Magus, goddess! shall perform the rest.'

With that, a wizard old his cup extends, Which whoso tastes forgets his former friends, Sire, ancestors, himself. One casts his eyes Up to a star, and like Endymion dies: 520 A feather, shooting from another's head, Extracts his brain, and principle is fled; Lost is his God, his country, everything; And nothing left but homage to a king![440] The vulgar herd turn off to roll with hogs, To run with horses, or to hunt with dogs; But, sad example! never to escape Their infamy, still keep the human shape. But she, good goddess, sent to every child Firm Impudence, or Stupefaction mild; 530 And strait succeeded, leaving shame no room, Cibberian forehead, or Cimmerian gloom.

Kind Self-conceit to some her glass applies, Which no one looks in with another's eyes: But as the flatterer or dependant paint, Beholds himself a patriot, chief, or saint.

On others Interest her gay livery flings, Interest, that waves on party-colour'd wings: Turn'd to the sun, she casts a thousand dyes, And, as she turns, the colours fall or rise. 540

Others the Syren sisters warble round, And empty heads console with empty sound. No more, alas! the voice of fame they hear, The balm of Dulness[441] trickling in their ear. Great C----, H----, P----, R----, K----, Why all your toils? your sons have learn'd to sing. How quick ambition hastes to ridicule! The sire is made a peer, the son a fool.

On some, a priest succinct in amice white Attends; all flesh is nothing in his sight! 550 Beeves, at his touch, at once to jelly turn, And the huge boar is shrunk into an urn: The board with specious miracles he loads,[442] Turns hares to larks, and pigeons into toads. Another (for in all what one can shine?) Explains the _seve_ and _verdeur_ of the vine.[443] What cannot copious sacrifice atone? Thy truffles, Perigord! thy hams, Bayonne! With French libation, and Italian strain, Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain.[444] 560 Knight lifts the head; for what are crowds undone To three essential partridges in one? Gone every blush, and silent all reproach, Contending princes mount them in their coach.

Next bidding all draw near on bended knees, The queen confers her titles and degrees. Her children first of more distinguish'd sort, Who study Shakspeare at the Inns of Court, Impale a glow-worm, or vertu profess, Shine in the dignity of F.R.S. 570 Some, deep freemasons, join the silent race, Worthy to fill Pythagoras's place: Some botanists, or florists at the least, Or issue members of an annual feast. Nor pass'd the meanest unregarded; one Rose a Gregorian, one a Gormogon.[445] The last, not least in honour or applause, Isis and Cam made Doctors of her Laws.