The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man Of Taste, by James Bramston

The idea of "taste" and the ideal of the "man of taste" have fallen considerably in critical esteem since the eighteenth century. When F. R. Leavis calls Andrew Lang "a scholar and a man of taste, with a feeling for language and a desire to write poetry,"[1] it is clear that for Leavis these attributes disqualify Lang from being taken seriously as a poet. But for the age of Pope, "taste" was a key term in its aesthetic thinking; the meaning and application of the term was a lively issue which engaged most of the ablest minds of the period.

Addison prefaced his series of Spectator papers on the "Pleasures of the Imagination" with a ground-clearing essay on "taste" (No. 409). In this classic account of the term, Addison defines "taste" as "that Faculty of the Soul, which discerns the Beauties of an Author with Pleasure, and the Imperfections with Dislike." Addison's "taste" is an innate proclivity towards certain kinds of aesthetic experience that has been consciously cultivated in the approved direction. It is not enough to value and enjoy the right authors; they must be valued and enjoyed for the right reasons. When he holds up to ridicule the man who assured him that "the greatest Pleasure he took in reading Virgil, was in examining Aeneas his Voyage by the Map," Addison clearly expects his readers to agree that such a singular taste was in fact no taste at all. His account implies not only a standard of "taste," but also general agreement, at least among "men of taste," about what the standard was. It is this circularity that makes it essential to assume some innate faculty of "taste."

But Addison's prescription for the cultivation of taste was a laborious one, involving prolonged reading and study. The wealthy, and especially the newly wealthy, were tempted to confuse the correct appreciation of the objects of taste with the mere possession of them; so that, as with Pope's Timon in the Epistle to Burlington (1731), owning a library became a substitute for reading books. This false taste for ostentation—especially in buildings—is a frequent target of contemporary satire.

The social importance of "taste" as an index of wealth was reinforced by current philosophical thinking that gave "taste" a moral dimension too. In his Characteristicks (1711), Shaftesbury postulated an innate moral sense, just as Addison did an innate aesthetic sense. Shaftesbury draws this analogy between the moral and the aesthetic:

The correct training of this capacity would enable men to make the right choices in both moral and aesthetic matters. This analogy is also the basis of Francis Hutcheson's Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions and Affections (1728).

It is against the philosophical background of the writings of Addison, Shaftesbury, and Hutcheson that the satire on "taste" of Pope, Bramston, and others must be seen. But by the time Pope wrote his Epistle to Burlington, Addison's "Faculty of the Soul" had been somewhat debased as a critical term, and the decline of "taste" was a common topic. "Nothing is so common as the affectation of, nor any thing so seldom found as Taste" was the complaint of the Weekly Register in 1731, deploring "the degeneracy of Taste since Mr. Addison's time."[3]

The publication of Pope's Epistle to Burlington in December 1731 was a literary event of some importance, especially since it was his first poem since the Dunciad Variorum of 1729. The Epistle gave "taste" a renewed currency as a vogue word. "Of Taste" is found only on the half-title of the first edition. But, significantly changed to "Of False Taste" for the second edition, this designation found its way onto the title-page of the third edition, and became the poem's popular title (it is so described on the advertisement leaf of Bramston's The Man of Taste).

Several attacks on Pope and his poem were published in the following year or so. A Miscellany on Taste (1732) reprinted Pope's Epistle with combative critical notes. Pope himself was attacked, as "Mr. Alexander Taste," in an anonymous pamphlet Mr. Taste the Poetical Fop (1732), reissued in 1733 as The Man of Taste, apparently borrowing the title of Bramston's poem.[4] Bramston's The Man of Taste (1733) is an early example of the more positive reaction to Pope's Epistle, joining him rather than attempting to beat him. Bramston's poem in its turn occasioned an anonymous The Woman of Taste (1733), and suggested some details for the character of Lord Apemode in James Miller's comedy The Man of Taste (1735). Pope himself borrowed an idea from it (see p. 14, 11. 5-6) for a passage in the Dunciad (the allusion to Free-Masons and F.R.S.; IV, 567-71).

The cluster of works provoked by Pope's Epistle is evidence of the topicality of "taste" at the time Bramston wrote his poem, and it is his Man of Taste that retains most interest today. The later history of "taste" in eighteenth-century aesthetics and satire can only briefly be glanced at here. Important philosophical discussions are Hume's essay "Of the Standard of Taste" (in Four Dissertations, 1757), Burke's Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757; a "Discourse Concerning Taste" was prefaced to the second edition, 1759), and Alexander Gerard's Essay on Taste (1759). Foote's farce Taste (1752) exposed the sham taste for the antique. There are numerous satiric portraits of the "Man of Taste": Mr. Sterling in The Clandestine Marriage (1766) is a good example clearly in the tradition of Pope's Timon, as is General Tilney in Northanger Abbey (1818, but written much earlier).

By the time of Jane Austen, of course, "taste" had developed away from the Addisonian rules, and indeed the whole tenor of the aesthetics of the imagination had changed. What had happened can be suggested by juxtaposing two significant statements about "taste" as metaphor. In his Spectator essay (No. 409) Addison speaks of "a very great Conformity between that Mental Taste, which is the Subject of this Paper, and that Sensitive Taste which gives us a Relish of every different Flavour that affects the Palate." But in the Preface to Lyrical Ballads (1802), Wordsworth deprecates those "who will converse with us as gravely about a taste for Poetry, as they express it, as if it were a thing indifferent as a taste for Rope-dancing, or Frontiniac or Sherry."[5] But the breakdown of the metaphor of "taste" is too large a subject to be explored here.

James Bramston (?1694-1743) was educated at Westminster School and at Christ Church, Oxford, where he took his B.A. in 1717 and his M.A. in 1720. He took orders, and was for a time a military chaplain. In 1724 he obtained the living of Lurgashall, and in 1739 those of Harting and Westhampnett.[6] He published (all anonymously) only three poems in English:

Bramston also wrote Latin verses, and at least two unpublished poems survive; but his reputation rests on The Art of Politicks and The Man of Taste. Both poems are of interest to the political and cultural historian, but from a literary point of view The Man of Taste is probably the better poem. This is largely because of Bramston's success in creating the persona of a self-consciously affected Man of Taste, who, however, exposes himself more than he intends. Joseph Warton mistook this effect for a failure of technique when he called Bramston "guilty of the indecorum and absurdity of making his hero laugh at himself and his own follies."[7] The poem is deliberately the "confessions" of a self-styled Man of Taste. It begins in a casual, cynical tone, but as the speaker is gradually seduced by his own rhetoric (especially when he imagines himself a nobleman) he strikes an almost rhapsodic note, so that he is revealed as the victim, not the exploiter, of "taste."

Both in his targets and his techniques, Bramston is a disciple of Pope. Sometimes there is a conscious recollection of the master:

I squal'd in Distichs, and in Triplets wept. (p. 6)

Sure wretched Wren was taught by bungling Jones,

To murder mortar, and disfigure stones! (p. 10)

Here the stylistic habit of antithesis works against the meaning instead of reinforcing it. But there are many good things in the poem; Bramston's treatment of the idea of the stage as a "school of morality," for example, is clever and amusing. His hero derives his "Hereditary Taste" from being "tragi-comically got" by a player-poet and an orange-woman (p. 6). This gives point to his later claim:

Oxford and Cambridge are not worth one farthing,

Compar'd to Haymarket, and Convent-garden:

Quit those, ye British Youth, and follow these,

Turn players all, and take your Squires degrees. (p. 18)

Nor barb'rous birch e'er brush'd my brawny bum. (p. 6)

Here insistent alliteration and strong rhythm are combined to excellent onomatopoeic effect. Another couplet:

Tho' Blackmore's works my soul with raptures fill,

With notes by Bently they'd be better still. (p. 7)

shows considerable appreciation of the Art of Sinking; the second line especially is fine bathos.

The poem as a whole provides an interesting portrait of contemporary fashionable "taste" that supplements, at a lower social level, Pope's portraits of such magnates of tastelessness as Timon. Bramston's Man of Taste is an odd amalgam of the singular and the trite. He begins by professing to despise laws, and ends by attempting to enact his own. In drawing a character whose tastes are at one moment shamelessly perverse, at another servilely imitative, and in depicting a wide range of "tastes," Bramston has developed significantly the idea that he took from the Epistle to Burlington, which is largely concerned with false taste in building.

This is not to deny that most of the victims of Bramston's satire are somewhere Pope's too. At times one even begins to suspect that Bramston's knowledge of London derives as much from the Dunciad Variorum as from first-hand experience of the city. There is certainly a strong traditional element in some of his themes. The ironic praise of Sir Cloudesley Shovell's tomb, for example (p. 12), was probably suggested by the Spectator (No. 26) rather than a visit to Westminster Abbey; the tomb had offended Addison because it portrayed the admiral in an alien character.

But the traditional is combined with the topical. If Sir Cloudesley's tomb had been a butt for twenty years, Sir Balaam is an allusion to Pope's Epistle to Bathurst, only published in February, 1733, the month before the Man of Taste. Further evidence that Bramston was making additions to the poem as late as February 1733 (the poem was published on 8 March) are the lines:

Not so my mind, unsatisfied with hints,

Knows more than Budgel writes, or Roberts prints. (p. 10)

These lines hit at a new readers' digest, The Bee: or, Universal Weekly Pamphlet. Containing Something to Hit Every Man's Taste and Principles, which was edited by Budgell and published by Roberts. The first number came out in February 1733. There is a similar mixture of past and current with the musical satire (p. 13). Handel's Esther and the novelty of oratorio were as recent as 1732; Heidegger's ugliness ("Prince Phyz!") was proverbial, and his renaming of the masquerade a decade old.

This mixture is confusing, but certainly intentional, since it would have made the Man of Taste more ridiculous to a contemporary audience. There is also a vertical mixture of the tastes of different levels of society; the writer in the Weekly Register for February 1731, already quoted above, makes this distinction: "The gaming-table, and the royal diversion at Newmarket, are the ambition of the majority; and the rest prefer Senesino to Shakespear, as the highest proof of modern politeness."[8] Bramston's Man of Taste is a concertina-brow, enjoying Senesino, gaming, and Newmarket (pp. 13, 15, 17).

The usefulness of notes for a full understanding of Bramston's satire was recognized as early as 1733, when a few were added to Faulkner's Dublin reprint. Faulkner's notes are remarkable for their xenophobic bias, for apart from those on Mrs. Oldfield ("Ophelia," p. 9), they mostly call attention to evils of continental origin: Pasaran's recommendation of suicide (p. 9); Heidegger's role as corrupting entertainer (p. 13); the imposter Count D'Ughi (the "Di'mond Count," p. 16); and Misaubin (p. 17), "famous for curing the venereal Disorders." These men were Italian, Swiss, Italian, and French respectively. This xenophobia is a remarkably constant feature of eighteenth-century satire on "taste."

The Man of Taste (together with The Art of Politicks) was included in Dodsley's Collection; in the 1782 edition, notes (unsigned, but by Isaac Reed) were added, identifying many allusions which no longer passed current. These are often helpful, but sometimes miss the point—as they do with the Budgell-Roberts joke, discussed above. But although notes are useful for a complete understanding of all Bramston's satiric points, a familiarity with the world of Pope and his victims removes most of the difficulties for a modern reader. Only occasionally does Bramston sound a more personal note, as in the list of doctors (p. 17), where he includes two of his contemporaries at Christ Church; and even here, Arbuthnot is a sufficient signpost.

Bramston is a minor poet, but there is no need to apologize for The Man of Taste. It is a lively and amusing poem in its own right, and its association with Pope and its place in the corpus of eighteenth-century satire on "taste" raise its claim to the attention of students of the period.

1. New Bearings in English Poetry (1932; new ed., London: Chatto & Windus, 1950), p. 11.

2. Treatise IV: "An Inquiry Concerning Virtue, or Merit," Book I, Part ii, Section 3, in Characteristicks of Men, Manners, Opinions, Times (London, 1711), II, 28-29.

4. These attacks are described in J. V. Guerinot, Pamphlet Attacks on Alexander Pope 1711-1744 (New York: New York Univ. Press, 1969), pp. 204-21.

5. Literary Criticism of William Wordsworth, ed. Paul M. Zall (Lincoln: Univ. of Nebraska Press, 1966), p. 50.

6. I owe these details (which correct the DNB account) to Mr. Michael Hunter of Worcester College, Oxford.

7. In his edition of Pope's Works (London, 1797), V, 285 (note on The Dunciad, IV, 570).

The Man of Taste was published on 8 March 1733 by Lawton Gilliver in a handsome folio format. A second folio edition (although not so called) was published later in the same month; this was followed within the year by octavo editions in London ¹ and Dublin.

Using the evidence of advertisements in the two folios and contemporary newspapers, W. B. Todd argues for the priority of the edition he calls "A," ² reversing the order previously suggested by Iolo A. Williams on internal evidence. ³ The textual variants are slight and are confined to accidentals, except that on p. 5, line 9, "A" reads "Strife still persists" and "B" has "Strife still subsists." A copy of Todd's edition "A" is reproduced here.

¹ Although the imprint on the title page reads "London," this edition was probably printed in Edinburgh. For a reassessment of the number and order of editions of The Man of Taste, see D. F. Foxon, English Verse 1701-1750 (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, forthcoming 1975), I, 78 (B396-401).

² The Library, 5th series, VIII (1953), 186-87. Todd here summarizes the evidence about publication.

The facsimile of Bramston's The Man of Taste (1733) is reproduced by permission from a copy (Shelf Mark: *fPR3627/E663b/copy 2) in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library. The total type-page (p. 7) measures 243 × 144 mm.

THE

MAN of TASTE.

THE

MAN of TASTE.

Occasion'd by an

EPISTLE

Of Mr. POPE's

On that Subject.

By the Author of the Art of Politicks.

LONDON:

Printed by J. Wright, for Lawton Gilliver
at Homer's Head against St. Dunstan's Church in
Fleet Street, 1733.

Price 1 s.

Where may be had the Art of Politicks, In Imitation of Horace's
Art of Poetry. Price 1 s.

W hoe'er he be that to a Taste aspires,

Let him read this, and be what he desires.

In men and manners vers'd from life I write,

Not what was once but what is now polite.

Those who of courtly France have made the tour,

Can scarce our English awkwardness endure.

But honest men who never were abroad,

Like England only, and its Taste applaud.

Strife still persists, which yields the better goût;

Books or the world, the many or the few.

True Taste to me is by this touchstone known,

That's always best that's nearest to my own.

To shew that my pretensions are not vain,

My Father was a play'r in Drury-lane.

Pears and Pistachio-nuts my Mother sold,

He a Dramatick-poet, She a Scold.

His tragick muse could Countesses affright,

Her wit in boxes was my Lord's delight.

No mercenary Priest e'er join'd their hands,

Uncramp'd by wedlock's unpoetick bands.

Laws my Pindarick parents matter'd not,

So I was tragi-comically got.

My infant tears a sort of measure kept,

I squal'd in Distichs, and in Triplets wept.

No youth did in I education waste,

Happy in an Hereditary Taste.

Writing ne'er cramp'd the sinews of my thumb,

Nor barb'rous birch e'er brush'd my brawny bum.

My guts ne'er suffer'd from a college-cook,

My name ne'er enter'd in a buttery-book.

Grammar in vain the sons of Priscian teach,

Good Parts are better than Eight Parts of Speech:

Since these declin'd those undeclin'd they call,

I thank my Stars, that I declin'd 'em all.

To Greek or Latin Tongues without pretence,

I trust to mother Wit, and father Sense.

Nature's my guide, all Sciences I scorn,

Pains I abhor, I was a Poet born.

Yet is my goût for criticism such,

I've got some French, and know a little Dutch.

Huge commentators grace my learned shelves,

Notes upon books out-do the books themselves.

Criticks indeed are valuable men,

But hyper-criticks are as good agen.

Tho' Blackmore's works my soul with raptures fill,

With notes by Bently they'd be better still.

The Boghouse-Miscellany's well design'd,

To ease the body, and improve the mind.

Swift's whims and jokes for my resentment call,

For he displeases me, that pleases all.

Verse without rhyme I never could endure,

Uncouth in numbers, and in sense obscure.

To him as Nature, when he ceas'd to see,

Milton's an universal Blank to me.

Confirm'd and settled by the Nations voice,

Rhyme is the poet's pride, and peoples choice.

Always upheld by national Support,

Of Market, University, and Court:

Thompson, write blank; but know that for that reason,

These lines shall live, when thine are out of season.

Rhyme binds and beautifies the Poet's lays,

As London Ladies owe their shape to stays.

Had Cibber's self the Careless Husband wrote,

He for the Laurel ne'er had had my Vote:

But for his Epilogues and other Plays,

He thoroughly deserves the Modern Bays.

It pleases me, that Pope unlaurell'd goes,

While Cibber wears the Bays for Playhouse Prose.

So Britain's Monarch once uncover'd fate,

While Bradshaw bully'd in a broad-brimm'd hat.

Long live old Curl! he ne'er to publish fears,

The speeches, verses, and last wills of Peers.

How oft has he a publick spirit shewn,

And pleas'd our ears regardless of his own?

But to give Merit due, though Curl's the same?

Are not his Brother-booksellers the same?

Can Statutes keep the British Press in awe,

While that sells best, that's most against the Law?

Lives of dead Play'rs my leisure hours beguile,

And Sessions-Papers tragedize my stile.

'Tis charming reading in Ophelia's life,

So oft a Mother, and not once a Wife:

She could with just propriety behave,

Alive with Peers, with Monarchs in her grave:

Her lot how oft have envious harlots wept,

By Prebends bury'd and by Generals kept.

T'improve in Morals Mandevil I read,

And Tyndal's Scruples are my settled Creed.

I travell'd early, and I soon saw through

Religion all, e'er I was twenty-two.

Shame, Pain, or Poverty shall I endure,

When ropes or opium can my ease procure?

When money's gone, and I no debts can pay,

Self-murder is an honourable way.

As Pasaran directs I'd end my life,

And kill myself, my daughter, and my wife.

Burn but that Bible which the Parson quotes,

And men of spirit all shall cut their throats.

But not to writings I confine my pen,

I have a taste for buildings, musick, men.

Young travell'd coxcombs mighty knowledge boast,

With superficial Smatterings at Most.

Not so my mind, unsatisfied with hints,

Knows more than Budgel writes, or Roberts prints.

I know the town, all houses I have seen,

From High-Park corner down to Bednal-Green.

Sure wretched Wren was taught by bungling Jones,

To murder mortar, and disfigure stones!

Who in Whitehall can symmetry discern?

I reckon Convent-garden Church a Barn.

Nor hate I less thy vile Cathedral, Paul!

The choir's too big, the cupola's too small:

Substantial walls and heavy roofs I like,

'Tis Vanbrug's structures that my fancy strike:

Such noble ruins ev'ry pile wou'd make,

I wish they'd tumble for the prospect's sake.

To lofty Chelsea or to Greenwich Dome,

Soldiers and sailors all are welcom'd home.

Her poor to palaces Britannia brings,

St. James's hospital may serve for kings.

Building so happily I understand,

That for one house I'd mortgage all my land.

Dorick, Ionick, shall not there be found,

But it shall cost me threescore thousand pound.

From out my honest workmen, I'll select

A Bricklay'r, and proclaim him architect;

First bid him build me a stupendous Dome,

Which having finish'd, we set out for Rome;

Take a weeks view of Venice and the Brent,

Stare round, see nothing, and come home content.

I'll have my Villa too, a sweet abode,

Its situation shall be London road:

Pots o'er the door I'll place like Cits balconies,

Which ¹ Bently calls the Gardens of Adonis.

I'll have my Gardens in the fashion too,

For what is beautiful that is not new?

Fair four-legg'd temples, theatres that vye,

With all the angles of a Christmas-pye.

Does it not merit the beholder's praise,

What's high to sink? and what is low to raise?

Slopes shall ascend where once a green-house stood,

And in my horse-pond I will plant a wood.

Let misers dread the hoarded gold to waste,

Expence and alteration shew a Taste.

In curious paintings I'm exceeding nice,

And know their several beauties by their Price.

Auctions and Sales I constantly attend,

But chuse my pictures by a skilful friend.

Originals and copies much the same,

The picture's value is the painter's name.

My taste in Sculpture from my choice is seen,

I buy no statues that are not obscene.

In spite of Addison and ancient Rome,

Sir Cloudesly Shovel's is my fav'rite tomb.

How oft have I with admiration stood,

To view some City-magistrate in wood?

I gaze with pleasure on a Lord May'r's head,

Cast with propriety in gilded lead.

Oh could I view through London as I pass,

Some broad Sir Balaam in Corinthian brass;

High on a pedestal, ye Freemen, place

His magisterial Paunch and griping Face;

Letter'd and Gilt, let him adorn Cheapside,

And grant the Tradesman, what a King's deny'd.

Old Coins and Medals I collect, 'tis true,

Sir Andrew has 'em, and I'll have 'em too.

But among friends if I the truth might speak,

I like the modern, and despise th' antique.

Tho' in the draw'rs of my japan Bureau,

To Lady Gripeall I the Cæsars shew,

'Tis equal to her Ladyship or me,

A copper Otho, or a Scotch Baubee.

Without Italian, or without an ear,

To Bononcini's musick I adhere:

Musick has charms to sooth a savage beast,

And therefore proper at a Sheriff's feast.

My soul has oft a secret pleasure found,

In the harmonious Bagpipe's lofty sound.

Bagpipes for men, shrill German-flutes for boys,

I'm English born, and love a grumbling noise.

The Stage should yield the solemn Organ's note,

And Scripture tremble in the Eunuch's throat.

Let Senesino sing, what David writ,

And Hallelujahs charm the pious pit.

Eager in throngs the town to Hester came,

And Oratorio was a lucky name.

Thou, Heeideggre! the English taste has found,

And rul'st the mob of quality with sound.

In Lent, if Masquerades displease the town,

Call 'em Ridotto's, and they still go down:

Go on, Prince Phyz! to please the British nation,

Call thy next Masquerade a Convocation.

Bears, Lyons, Wolves, and Elephants I breed,

And Philosophical Transactions read.

Next Lodge I'll be Free-Mason, nothing less,

Unless I happen to be F.R.S.

I have a Palate, and (as yet) two Ears,

Fit company for Porters, or for Peers.

Of ev'ry useful knowledge I've a share,

But my top talent is a bill of fare.

Sir Loins and rumps of beef offend my eyes,

Pleas'd with frogs fricasseed, and coxcomb-pies.

Dishes I chuse though little, yet genteel,

Snails the first course, and Peepers crown the meal.

Pigs heads with hair on, much my fancy please,

I love young colly-flow'rs if stew'd in cheese,

And give ten guineas for a pint of peas.

No tatling servants to my table come,

My Grace is Silence, and my waiter Dumb.

Queer Country-puts extol Queen Bess's reign,

And of lost hospitality complain.

Say thou that do'st thy father's table praise,

Was there Mahogena in former days?

Oh! could a British Barony be sold!

I would bright honour buy with dazling gold.

Could I the privilege of Peer procure,

The rich I'd bully, and oppress the poor.

To give is wrong, but it is wronger still,

On any terms to pay a tradesman's bill.

I'd make the insolent Mechanicks stay,

And keep my ready money all for play.

I'd try if any pleasure could be found,

In tossing-up for twenty thousand pound.

Had I whole Counties, I to White's would go,

And set lands, woods, and rivers, at a throw.

But should I meet with an unlucky run,

And at a throw be gloriously undone;

My debts of honour I'd discharge the first,

Let all my lawful creditors be curst:

My Title would preserve me from arrest,

And seising hired horses is a jest.

I'd walk the mornings with an oaken stick,

With gloves and hat, like my own footman, Dick.

A footman I wou'd be, in outward show,

In sense, and education, truly so.

As for my head, it should ambiguous wear

At once a periwig, and its own hair.

My hair I'd powder in the women's way,

And dress, and talk of dressing, more than they.

I'll please the maids of honour, if I can;

Without black-velvet-britches, what is man?

I will my skill in button-holes display,

And brag how oft I shift me ev'ry day.

Shall I wear cloaths, in awkward England made?

And sweat in cloth, to help the woollen trade?

In French embroid'ry and in Flanders lace

I'll spend the income of a treasurer's place.

Deard's bill for baubles shall to thousands mount,

And I'd out-di'mond ev'n the Di'mond Count.

I would convince the world by taudry cloa's,

That Belles are less effeminate than beaux,

And Doctor Lamb should pare my Lordship's toes.

To boon companions I my time would give,

With players, pimps, and parasites I'd live.

I would with Jockeys from Newmarket dine,

And to Rough-riders give my choicest wine.

I would caress some Stableman of note,

And imitate his language, and his coat.

My ev'nings all I would with sharpers spend,

And make the Thief-catcher my bosom friend.

In Fig the Prize-fighter by day delight,

And sup with Colly Cibber ev'ry night.

Should I perchance be fashionably ill,

I'd send for Misaubin, and take his pill.

I should abhor, though in the utmost need,

Arbuthnot, Hollins, Wigan, Lee, or Mead:

But if I found that I grew worse and worse,

I'd turn off Misaubin and take a Nurse.

How oft, when eminent physicians fail,

Do good old womens remedies prevail?

When beauty's gone, and Chloe's struck with years,

Eyes she can couch, or she can syringe ears.

Of Graduates I dislike the learned rout,

And chuse a female Doctor for the gout.

Thus would I live, with no dull pedants curs'd,

Sure, of all blockheads, Scholars are the worst.

Back to your Universitys, ye fools,

And dangle Arguments on strings in schools:

Those schools which Universitys they call,

'Twere well for England were there none at all.

With ease that loss the nation might sustain,

Supply'd by Goodman's Fields and Drury-lane.

Oxford and Cambridge are not worth one farthing,

Compar'd to Haymarket, and Convent-garden:

Quit those, ye British Youth, and follow these,

Turn players all, and take your 'Squires degrees.

Boast not your incomes now, as heretofore,

Ye book-learn'd Seats! the Theatres have more:

Ye stiff-rump'd heads of Colleges be dumb,

A singing Eunuch gets a larger Sum.

Have some of you three hundred by the Year,

Booth, Rich, and Cibber, twice three thousand clear.

Should Oxford to her sister Cambridge join

A Year's Rack-rent, and Arbitrary fine:

Thence not one winter's charge would be defray'd,

For Playhouse, Opera, Ball, and Masquerade.

Glad I congratulate the judging Age,

The players are the world, the world the stage.

I am a Politician too, and hate

Of any party, ministers of state:

I'm for an Act, that he, who sev'n whole Years

Has serv'd his King and Country, lose his ears.

Thus from my birth I'm qualified you find,

To give the laws of Taste to humane kind.

Mine are the gallant Schemes of Politesse,

For books, and buildings, politicks, and dress.

This is True Taste, and whoso likes it not,

Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and sot.

BOOKS printed for Lawton Gilliver at Homer's Head over-against St. Dunitan's Church in Fleetstreet.

The Use of Riches, an Epistle to the Right Honourable Allen Lord Bathurst. By the same Author.

The first Satire of the Second Book of Horace, Imitated in a Dialogue between Alexander Pope, Esq; on the one Part, and his Learned Council on the other.

A Collection of Pieces in Prose and Verse; occasioned by the Dunciad. Dedicated to the Earl of Middlesex, by Richard Savage, Esq;

Two Epistles to Mr. Pope, concerning the Authors of the Age. By Dr. Young.

M. Hieronimi Vidæ Opera Omnia Poetica, quibus nunc primum adjiciuntur Dialogi de Rei-publicæ Dignitate ex Recensione. R. Russel, A. M. 2 Toms 12^o

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The William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
2520 Cimarron Street, Los Angeles, California 90018

1948-1949
16.	Henry Nevil Payne, The Fatal Jealousie (1673).
18.	"Of Genius," in The Occasional Paper, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719), and Aaron Hill, Preface to The Creation (1720).
1949-1950
19.	Susanna Centlivre, The Busie Body (1709).
20.	Lewis Theobald, Preface to the Works of Shakespeare (1734).
22.	Samuel Johnson, The Vanity of Human Wishes (1749), and Two Rambler papers (1750).
23.	John Dryden, His Majesties Declaration Defended (1681).
1951-1952
26.	Charles Macklin, The Man of the World (1792).
31.	Thomas Gray, An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard (1751), and The Eton College Manuscript.
1952-1953
41.	Bernard Mandeville, A Letter to Dion (1732).
1964-1965
110.	John Tutchin, Selected Poems (1685-1700).
111.	Political Justice (1736).
113.	T. R., An Essay Concerning Critical and Curious Learning (1698).
1965-1966
115.	Daniel Defoe and others, Accounts of the Apparition of Mrs. Veal (1705, 1706, 1720, 1722).
116.	Charles Macklin, The Convent Garden Theatre (1752).
117.	Sir Roger L'Estrange, Citt and Bumpkin (1680).
118.	Henry More, Enthusiasmus Triumphatus (1662).
120.	Bernard Mandeville, Aesop Dress'd or a Collection of Fables (1740).
1966-1967
124.	The Female Wits (1704).
1968-1969
133.	John Courtenay, A Poetical Review of the Literary and Moral Character of the Late Samuel Johnson (1786).
134.	John Downes, Roscius Anglicanus (1708).
135.	John Hill, Hypochondriasis, a Practical Treatise (1766).
136.	Thomas Sheridan, A Discourse Being Introductory to His Course of Lectures on Elocution and the English Language (1759).
137.	Arthur Murphy, The Englishman from Paris (1756).
1969-1970
138.	[Catherine Trotter] Olinda's Adventures (1718).
139.	John Ogilvie, An Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients (1762).
140.	A Learned Dissertation on Dumpling (1726) and Pudding and Dumpling Burnt to Pot or a Compleat Key to the Dissertation on Dumpling (1727).
141.	Sir Roger L'Estrange, Selections from The Observator (1681-1687).
142.	Anthony Collins, A Discourse Concerning Ridicule and Irony in Writing (1729).
143.	A Letter From a Clergyman to His Friend, with an Account of the Travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver (1726).
144.	The Art of Architecture, A Poem (1742).
1970-1971
145-146.	Thomas Shelton, A Tutor to Tachygraphy, or Short-writing (1642) and Tachygraphy (1647).
147-148.	Deformities of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1782).
149.	Poeta de Tristibus: or the Poet's Complaint (1682).
150.	Gerard Langbaine, Momus Triumphans: or the Plagiaries of the English Stage (1687).
1971-1972
151-152.	Evan Lloyd, The Methodist. A Poem (1766).
153.	Are These Things So? (1740), and The Great Man's Answer to Are These Things So? (1740).
154.	Arbuthnotiana: The Story of the St. Alb-ns Ghost (1712), and A Catalogue of Dr. Arbuthnot's Library (1779).
155-156.	A Selection of Emblems from Herman Hugo's Pia Desideria (1624), with English Adaptations by Francis Quarles and Edmund Arwaker.
1972-1973
157.	William Mountfort, The Life and Death of Doctor Faustus (1697).
158.	Colley Cibber, A Letter from Mr. Cibber to Mr. Pope (1742).
159.	[Catherine Clive], The Case of Mrs. Clive (1744).
160.	[Thomas Tryon], A Discourse ... of Phrensie, Madness or Distraction from A Treatise of Dreams and Visions [1689].
161.	Robert Blair, The Grave. A Poem (1743).
162.	[Bernard Mandeville], A Modest Defence of Publick Stews (1724).
1973-1974
163.	[William Rider], An Historical and Critical Account of the Lives and Writings of the Living Authors of Great Britain (1762).
164.	Thomas Edwards, The Sonnets of Thomas Edwards (1765, 1780).
165.	Hildebrand Jacob, Of the Sister Arts; An Essay (1734).
166.	Poems on the Reign of William III [1690, 1696, 1699, 1702].
167.	Kane O'Hara, Midas: An English Burletta (1766).
168.	[Daniel Defoe], A Short Narrative History of the Life and Actions of His Grace John, D. of Marlborough (1711).