The Dunciad/Ricardus Aristarchus of the hero of the poem

The Dunciad
by Alexander Pope
Ricardus Aristarchus of the hero of the poem
3400778The Dunciad — Ricardus Aristarchus of the hero of the poemAlexander Pope

RICARDUS ARISTARCHUS

OF THE

HERO of the POEM.

OF the Nature of Dunciad in general, whence derived, and on what authority founded, as well as of the art and conduct of this our poem in particular, the learned and laborious Scriblerus hath, according to his manner, and with tolerable share of judgment, dissertated. But when he cometh to speak of the Person of the Hero fitted for such poem, in truth he miserably halts and hallucinates. For, misled by one Monsieur Bossu, a Gallic critic, he prateth of I cannot tell what Phantom of a Hero, only raised up to support the Fable. A putrid conceit! As if Homer and Virgil, like modern Undertakers, who first build their house and then seek out for a tenant, had contrived the story of a War and a Wandering, before they once thought either of Achilles or Æneas. We shall therefore set our good brother and the world also right in this particular, by giving our word, that in the greater Epic, the prime intention of the Muse is to exalt Heroic Virtue, in order to propagate the love of it among the children of men; and consequently that the Poet's first thought must needs be turned upon a real subject meet for laud and celebration; not one whom he is to make, but one whom he may find, truly illustrious. This is the primum mobile of his poetic world, whence every thing is to receive life and motion. For this subject being found, he is immediately ordained, or rather acknowledged, an Hero, and put upon such action as befitteth the dignity of his character.

But the Muse ceases not here her Eagle-flight. Sometimes, satiated with the contemplation of these Suns of glory, she turneth downward on her wing, and darts like lightning on the Goose and Serpent kind. For we may apply to the Muse in her various moods, what an ancient master of Wisdom affirmeth of the Gods in general: Si Dii non irascuntur impiis et injustis, nec pios utique justosque diligunt. In rebus enim diversis, aut in utramque partem moveri necesse est, aut in neutram. Itaque qui bonos diligit, & malos odit; & qui malos non odit, nec bonos diligit. Quia & diligere bonos ex odio malorum venit; & malos odisse ex bonorum caritate descendit. Which in the vernacular idiom may be thus interpreted: "If the Gods be not provoked at evil men, neither are they delighted with the good and just. For contrary objects must either excite contrary affections, or no affections at all. So that he who loveth good men, must at the same time hate the bad; and he who hateth not bad men, cannot love the good; because to love good men proceedeth from an aversion to evil, and to hate evil men from a tenderness to the good." From this delicacy of the Muse arose the little Epic, (more lively and choleric than her elder sister, whose bulk and complexion incline her to the flegmatic) and for this some notorious Vehicle of vice and folly was sought out, to make thereof an example. An early instance of which (nor could it escape the accurate Scriblerus) the Father of Epic poem himself affordeth us. From him the practice descended to the Greek Dramatic poets, his offspring; who in the composition of their Tetralogy, or set of four pieces, were wont to make the last a Satyric Tragedy. Happily one of these ancient Dunciads (as we may well term it) is come down to us amongst the Tragedies of Euripides. And what doth the reader think may be the subject? Why truly, and it is worth his observation, the unequal Contention of an old, dull, debauched, buffoon Cyclops, with the heaven-directed Favourite of Minerva; who after having quietly born all the monster's obscene and impious ribaldry, endeth the farce in punishing him with the mark of an indelible brand in his forehead. May we not then be excused, if for the future we consider the Epics of Homer, Virgil, and Milton, together with this our poem, as a complete Tetralogy, in which the last worthily holdeth the place or station of the satyric piece?

Proceed we therefore in our subject. It hath been long, and alas for pity! still remaineth a question, whether the Hero of the greater Epic should be an honest man? or, as the French critics express it, un bonnété homme[1]; but it never admitted of any doubt but that the Hero of the little Epic should not be so. Hence, to the advantage of our Dunciad, we may observe how much juster the Moral of that Poem must needs be, where so important a question is previously decided.

But then it is not every Knave, nor (let me add) Fool, that is a fit subject for a Dunciad. There must still exist some Analogy, if not Resemblance of Qualities, between the Heroes of the two Poems; and this in order to admit what Neoteric critics call the Parody, one of the liveliest graces of the little Epic. Thus it being agreed that the constituent qualities of the greater Epic Hero, are Wisdom, Bravery, and Love, from whence springeth heroic Virtue; it followeth that those of the lesser Epic Hero, should be Vanity, Impudence, and Debauchery, from which happy assemblage resulteth heroic Dulness, the never-dying subject of this our Poem.

This being confessed, come we now to particulars. It is the character of true Wisdom, to seek its chief support and confidence within itself; and to place that support in the resources which proceed from a conscious rectitude of Will.—And are the advantages of Vanity, when arising to the heroic standard, at all short of this self-complacence? Nay, are they not, in the opinion of the enamoured owner, far beyond it? "Let the world (will such an one say) "impute to me what Folly or weakness they please; but till Wisdom can give me something that will make me more heartily happy, I am content to be gazed at[2]." This we see is Vanity according to the heroic gage or measure; not that low and ignoble species which pretendeth to Virtues we have not, but the laudable ambition of being gazed at for glorying in those Vices which all the world know we have. "The world may ask (says he) why I make my follies publick? Why not? I have passed my time very pleasantly with them[3]." In short, there is no sort of Vanity such a Hero would scruple, but that which might go near to degrade him from his high station in this our Dunciad; namely, "Whether it would no be Vanity in him, to take shame to himself for not being a wise man[4]?"

Bravery, the second attribute of the true Hero, is Courage manifesting itself in every limb; while, in its correspondent virtue in the mock Hero, that Courage is all collected into the Face. And as Power when drawn together, must needs be more strong than when dispersed, we generally find this kind of courage in so high and heroic a degree, that it insults not only Men, but Gods. Mezentius is without doubt the bravest charaćter in all the Æneis; but how? His bravery, we know, was an high courage of blasphemy. And can we say less of this brave man's, who having told us that he placed "his Summum bonum in those follies, which he was not content barely to possess but would likewise glory in," adds, "If I am misguided, 'tis nature's fault, and I follow her[5]." Nor can we be mistaken in making this happy quality a species of Courage, when we consider those illustrious marks of it, which made his Face "more known (as he justly boasteth) "than most in the kingdom," and his Language to consist of what we must allow to be the most daring Figure of Speech, that which is taken from the Name of God.

Gentle Love, the next ingredient in the true Hero's composition, is a mere bird of passage, or (as Shakespear calls it) summer-teeming Lust, and evaporates in the heat of Youth; doubtless by that refinement it suffers in passing through those certain strainers which our Poet somewhere speaketh of. But when it is let alone to work upon the Lees, it acquireth strength by Old age; and becometh a standing ornament to the little Epic. It is true indeed, there is one objection to its fitness for such an use: For not only the Ignorant may think it common, but it is admitted to be so, even by Him who best knoweth its nature. "Don't you think (saith he) to say "only a man has his Whore, ought to go for little or nothing? Because defendit numerus, take the first ten thousand men you meet, and I believe "you would be no loser if you betted ten to one, that every single sinner of them, one with another, had been guilty of the same frailty[6]." But here he seemeth not to have done himself justice: The man is sure enough a Hero, who has his Lady at fourscore. How doth his Modesty herein lessen the merit of a whole well-spent Life: not taking to himself the commendation (which Horace accounted the greatest in a theatrical character) of continuing to the very dregs, the same he was from the beginning,

——Servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto processerat——

But let us farther remark, that the calling her his whore, implieth she was his own, and not his neighbour's. Truly a commendable Continence! and such as Scipio himself must have applauded. For how much Self-denial was necessary not to covet his Neighbour's whore? and what disorders must the coveting her have occasioned, in that Society, where (according to this Political Calculator) nine in ten of all ages have their concubines?

We have now, as briefly as we could devise, gone through the three constituent Qualities of either Hero. But it is not in any, or all of these, that Heroism properly or essentially resideth. It is a lucky result rather from the collision of these lively Qualities against one another. Thus, as from Wisdom, Bravery, and Love, ariseth Magnanimity, the object of Admiration, which is the aim of the greater Epic; so from Vanity, Impudence, and Debauchery, springeth Buffoonry, the source of Ridicule, that "laughing ornament," as he well termeth it[7], of the little Epic.

He is not ashamed (God forbid he ever should be ashamed!) of this Character; who deemeth, that not Reason but Risibility distinguisheth the human species from the brutal. "As Nature (saith this profound Philosopher) distinguished our species from the mute creation by our Risibility, her design must have been by that faculty as evidently to raise our happiness, as by our os sublime (our erected faces) to lift the dignity of our form above them[8]." All this considered, how complete a Hero must he be, as well as how happy a Man, whose Risibility lieth not barely in his muscles as in the common sort, but (as himself informeth us) in his very spirits? And whose Os sublime is not simply an erect face, but a Brazen head, as should seem by his comparing it with one of Iron, said to belong to the late king of Sweden[9]!

But whatever personal qualities a Hero may have, the examples of Achilles and Æneas shew us, that all those are of small avail, without the constant assistance of the Gods: for the subversion and erection of Empires have never been judged the work of Man. How greatly soever then we may esteem of his high talents, we can hardly conceive his personal prowess alone sufficient to restore the decayed empire of Dulness. So weighty an atchievement must require the particular favour and protection of the Great: who being the natural patrons and supporters of Letters, as the ancient Gods were of Troy, must first be drawn off and engaged in another Interest, before the total subversion of them can be accomplished. To surmount, therefore, this last and greatest difficulty, we have in this excellent man a professed Favourite and Intimado of the Great. And look of what force ancient Piety was to draw the Gods into the party of Æneas, that, and much stronger is modern Incense, to engage the Great in the party of Dulness.

Thus have we essayed to pourtray or shadow out this noble Imp of Fame. But now the impatient reader will be apt to say, if so many and various graces go to the making up a Hero, what mortal shall suffice to bear this character? Ill hath he read, who sees not in every trace of this picture, that individual, All-accomplished person, in whom these rare virtues and lucky circumstances have agreed to meet and concentre with the strongest lustre and fullest harmony.

The good Scriblerus indeed, nay the World itself might be imposed on in the late spurious editions, by I can't tell what Sham-hero, or Phantom: But it was not so easy to impose on him whom this egregious error most of all concerned. For no sooner had the fourth book laid open the high and swelling scene, but he recognized his own heroic Acts: And when he came to the words,

Soft on her lap her Laureat son reclines,

(though Laureat imply no more than one crowned with laurel, as befitteth any Associate or Consort in Empire) he roar'd (like a Lion) and vindicated his Right of fame: Indeed not without cause, he being there represented as fast asleep; so unbeseeming the eye of Empire, which, like that of Providence, should never slumber. "Hah! (saith he) fast asleep "it seems! that's a little too strong. Pert and dull at least you might have allowed me, but as seldom asleep as any fool[10]." However, the injured Hero may comfort himself with this reflexion, that tho' it be sleep, yet it is not the sleep of death, but of immortality. Here he will[11] live at least, tho' not awake; and in no worse condition than many an enchanted Warrior before him. The famous Durandarte, for instance, was, like him, cast into a long slumber by Merlin the British Bard and Necromancer: and his example, for submitting to it with so good a grace, might be of use to our Hero. For this disastrous knight being sorely pressed or driven to make his answer by several persons of quality, only replied with a sigh, Patience, and shuffle the cards[12].

But now, as nothing in this world, no not the most sacred or perfect things either of Religion or Government, can escape the teeth or tongue of Envy, methinks I already hear these carpers objecting to the clear title of our Hero.

"It would never (say they) have been esteemed sufficient to make an Hero for the Iliad or Æneis, that Achilles was brave enough to overturn one Empire, or Æneas pious enough to raise another, had they not been Goddess-born, and Princes bred. What then did this Author mean, by erecting a Player instead of one of his Patrons, (a person "never a hero even on the stage[13],") to this dignity of Collegue in the empire of Dulness, and Atchiever of a work that neither old Omar, Attila, nor John of Leiden could entirely compass."

To all this we have, as we conceive, a sufficient answer from the Roman historian, Fabrum esse suæ quemque fortunæ: Every man is the Smith of his own fortune. The politic Florentine Nicholas Machiavel goeth still farther, and affirms that a man needs but to believe himself a Hero to be one of the best. "Let him (saith he) but fancy himself capable of the highest things, and he will of course be able to atchieve them." Laying this down as a principle, it will certainly and incontestably follow, that, if ever Hero was such a character, ours is: For if ever man thought himself such, ours doth. Hear how he constantly paragons himself, at one time to Alexander the Great and Charles the XII. of Sweden, for the excess and delicacy of his Ambition[14]; to Henry the IV. of France, for honest Policy[15]; to the first Brutus, for love of Liberty[16]; and to Sir Robert Walpole, for good Government while in power[17]: At another time, to the godlike Socrates, for his diversions and amusements[18]; to Horace, Montaigne, and Sir William Temple, for an elegant Vanity that makes them for ever read and admired[19]; to two Lord Chancellors, for Law, from whom, when confederate against him at the bar, he carried away the prize of Eloquence[20]; and, to say all in a word, to the right reverend the Lord Bishop of London himself, in the art of writing pastoral letters[21].

Nor did his Actions fall short of the sublimity of his Conceptions. In his early youth he met the Revolution at Nottingham[22] face to face, at a time when his betters contented themselves with following her. But he shone in Courts as well as Camps: He was called up when the nation fell in labour of this Revolution[23]: and was a gossip at her christening, with the Bishop and the ladies[24].

As to his Birth, it is true he pretendeth no relation either to Heathen God or Goddess; but, what is as good, he was descended from a Maker of both[25]. And that he did not pass himself on the world for a Hero, as well by birth as education, was his own fault: For, his lineage he bringeth into his life as an Anecdote, and is sensible he had it in his power to be thought no body's son at all[26]: And what is that but coming into the world a Hero.

There is in truth another objection of greater weight, namely, "That this Hero still existeth, and hath not yet finished his earthly course. For if Solon said well, that no man could be called happy till his death, surely much less can any one, till then, be pronounced a Hero: this species of men being far more subject than others to the caprices of Fortune and Humour." But to this also we have an answer, that will be deemed (we hope) decisive. It cometh from himself, who, to cut this dispute short, hath solemnly protested that he will never change or amend.

With regard to his Vanity, he declareth that nothing shall ever part them. "Nature (saith he) hath amply supplied me in Vanity; a pleasure which neither the pertness of Wit, nor the gravity of Wisdom, will ever persuade me to part with[27]." Our poet had charitably endeavoured to administer a cure to it; But he telleth us plainly, "My superiors perhaps may be mended by him; but for my part I own myself incorrigible. I look upon my Follies as the best part of my Fortune[28]." And with good reason: We see to what they have brought him!

Secondly, as to Buffoonry, "Is it (saith he) a time of day for me to leave off these fooleries, and set up a new character? I can no more put off my Follies than my Skin; I have often tried, but they stick too close to me; nor am I sure my friends are displeased with them, for in this light I afford them frequent matter of mirth, &c. &c.[29]." Having then so publickly declared himself incorrigible, he is become dead in law, (I mean the law Epopæian) and descendeth to the Poet as his property: who may take him, and deal with him, as if he had been dead as long as an old Egyptian hero; that is to say, embowel and embalm him for posterity.

Nothing therefore (we conceive) remains to hinder his own Prophecy of himself from taking immediate effect. A rare felicity! and what few prophets have had the satisfaction to see, alive! Nor can we conclude better than with that extraordinary one of his, which is conceived in these Oraculous words, my dulness will find somebody to do it right[30].

  1. Si un Heros Poëtique doit être un honnête homme. Bossu, du Poême Epique, lib. v. ch. 5.
  2. Dedication to the Life of C. C.
  3. Life, p. 2. octavo Ed.
  4. Life, ibid.
  5. Life, p. 23, octavo.
  6. Letter to Mr. P. p. 46.
  7. Letter to Mr. P. p. 31.
  8. Life, p. 23, 24.
  9. Letter, p. 8.
  10. Letter, p. 53.
  11. Letter, p. 1.
  12. Don Quixote, Part ii. Book ii. ch. 22.
  13. See Life, p.148.
  14. Life, p. 149.
  15. P. 424.
  16. P. 366.
  17. P. 457.
  18. P. 18.
  19. P. 425.
  20. P. 436, 437.
  21. P. 52.
  22. P.47.
  23. P. 57.
  24. P. 58, 59.
  25. A Statuary.
  26. Life, p.6.
  27. P. 424.
  28. P. 19.
  29. P. 17.
  30. Ibid. p. 243. octavo edit.