fons themselves, rather than allow the objection, would forgive the fatire; and if one could be tempted to afford it a ferious answer, were not all affaffinates, popular infurrections, the infolence of the rabble without doers, and of domestics within, moft wrongfully cha ftifed, if the Meannefs of offenders indemnified them from punishment? On the contrary, Obfcurity renders them more dangerous, as less thought of: Law can pro⚫ nounce judgment only on open facts: Morality alone can pafs cenfure on intentions of Mischief; so that for fecret calumny, or the arrow flying in the dark, there is no public punishment left, but what a good Writer inflicts.

The next objection is, that these sort of authors are poor. That might be pleaded as an excufe at the Old Bailey, for leffer crimes than Defamation (for it is the case of almost all who are tried there), but fure it can be none here: for who will pretend that the robbing another of his Reputation fupplies the want of it in himself? I question not but such authors are poor, and heartily with the objection were removed by any ho neft livelihood. But Poverty is here the accident, not the fubject: He who defcribes Malice and Vilainy to be pale and meagre, expreffes not the least anger against Palenefs or Leannefs, but against Malice and Villainy. The Apothecary in Romeo and Juliet is poor; but is he therefore juftified in vending poifon? Not but Poverty itfelf becomes a just subject of satire, when it is the confequence of vice, prodigality, or neglect of one's lawful calling; for then it increases

the public burden, fills the streets and highways with Robbers, and the Garrets with Clippers, Coiners, and Weekly Journalists.

But admitting that two or three of thefe offend lefs in their morals, than in their writings; muft Poverty make nonfenfe facred? If so, the fame of bad authors would be much better confulted than that of all the good ones in the world; and not one of an hundred had ever been called by his right name.

They mistake the whole matter: It is not charity to encourage them in the way they follow, but to get them out of it; for men are not bunglers because they are poor, but they are poor because they are bunglers.

Is it not pleasant enough, to hear our authors crying out on the one hand, as if their perfons and characters were too facred for fatire; and the Public objecting on the other, that they are too mean even for ridicule? But whether Bread or Fame be their end, it must be allowed, our author, by and in this Poem, has mercifully given them a little of both.

There are two or three, who by their rank and fortune have no benefit from the former objections, fuppofing them good; and these I was forry to fee in fuch company. But if, without any provocation, two or three Gentlemen will fall upon one, in an affair wherein his interest and reputation are equally embarked; they cannot certainly, after they have been content to print themselves his enemies, complain of being put into the number of them.

Others,

Others, I am told, pretend to have been once his Friends. Surely they are their enemies who say so, fince nothing can be more odious than to treat a friend as they have done. But of this I cannot perfuade myfelf, when I confider the conftant and eternal averfion of all bad writers to a good one.

Such as claim a merit from being his Admirers, I would gladly ask, if it lays him under a personal obligation? At that rate he would be the most obliged humble fervant in the world. I dare swear for these in particular, he never defired them to be his admirers, nor promised in return to be theirs: That had truly been a fign he was of their acquaintance; but would not the malicious world have fufpected fuch an Approbation of fome motive worse than ignorance, in the Author of the Effay on Criticism? Be it as it will, the reafons of their Admiration and of his Contempt are equally fubfifting, for his works and theirs are the very fame that they were.

One, therefore, of their affertions I believe may be true, "That he has a contempt for their writings." And there is another which would probably be fooner allowed by himself than by any good judge befide, "That his own have found too much fuccefs with "the Public." But as it cannot confift with his modefty to claim this as a Justice, it lies not on him, but entirely on the Public, to defend its own judgment. There remains what in my opinion might seem a better plea for these people, than any they have made

ufe

ufe of. If Obfcurity or Poverty were to exempt a man from fatire, much more should Folly or Dulnefs, which are still more involuntary; nay, as much fo as perfonal Deformity. But even this will not help them: Deformity becomes an object of Ridicule when a man fets up for being handfome; and fo muft Dulness when he fets up for a Wit. They are not ridiculed becaufe Ridicule in itself is, or ought to be, a pleasure; but because it is just to undeceive and vindicate the honeft and unpretending part of mankind from impofition, because particular intereft ought to yield to general, and a great number who are not naturally Fools, ought never to be made so, in complaisance to a few who are. Accordingly we find that in all ages, all vain pretenders, were they ever so poor or ever fo dull, have been conftantly the topics of the most candid fatirifts, from the Codrus of JUVENAL to the Damon of Boi

LEAU.

Having mentioned BOILEAU, the greatest Poet and moft judicious Critic of his age and country, admirable for his Talents, and yet perhaps more admirable for his judgment in the proper application of them; I cannot help remarking the resemblance betwixt him and our author, in Qualities, Fame, and Fortune; in the diftinctions fhewn them by their Superiors, in the general esteem of their Equals, and in their extended reputation amongst Foreigners; in the latter of which ours has met with the better fate, as he has had for his Tranflators perfons of the most eminent rank and abi

lities in their respective nations b. But the refemblance holds in nothing more, than in their being equally abused by the ignorant pretenders to Poetry of their times; of which not the least memory will remain but in their own Writings, and in the Notes made upon them. What BOILEAU has done in almost all his Poems, our author has only in this: I dare anfwer for him he will do it in no more; and on this principle, of attacking few but who had flandered him, he could not have done it at all, had he been confined from cenfuring obfcure and worthless perfons, for scarce any other were his enemies. However, as the parity is so remarkable, I hope it will continue to the laft; and if ever he fhould give us an edition of this Poem himself, I may fee fome of them treated as gently, on their repentance or better merit, as Perrault and Quinault were at last by BOILEAU.

In one point I must be allowed to think the character of our English Poet the more amiable. He has not

b Effay on Criticism in French verfe, by General Hamilton; the fame, in verfe alfo, by Monfieur Roboton, Counsellor and Privy Secretary to King George I. after by the Abbé Reynel, in verfe, with notes. Rape of the Lock, in French, by the Princefs of Conti, Paris 1728. and in Italian verfe, by the Abbé Conti, a Noble Venetian; and the Marquis Rangoni, Envoy Extraordinary from Modena to King George II. Others of his works by Salvini of Florence, &c. His Effays and Differta tions on Homer, feveral times tranflated into French. Efay on Man, by the Abbé Reynel, in verse; by Monfieur Silhout, in profe, 1737, and fince by others in French, Italian, and Latin.

been