11. Theobald never published his long promised translation of Aeschylus; but, by bracketing it with Cooke's musical farce from Terence, _The Eunuch_, which _was_ performed (Drury Lane, 17 May 1737), "Scriblerus" seems to imply that he did complete it. 12. The immediate target of this shaft was the waxwork show kept by Mrs. Salmon near St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet Street, but the original "Merlin's Cave" built for Queen Caroline in 1735 remained a standing jest into the 1740's. 13. "Consedere duces et vulgi stante corona surgit ad hos clipei dominus septemplicis" (_Met._, XIII, 1-2). Dryden translates: The Chiefs were set; the Soldiers crown'd the Field: To these the Master of the seven-fold Shield Upstarted fierce. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE The text of this edition of _The Scribleriad_ is reproduced from a copy in the Library of St. David's College, Lampeter, and that of _The Difference between Verbal and Practical Virtue_ from a copy in the British Museum. THE SCRIBLERIAD. BEING AN EPISTLE TO THE DUNCES, On RENEWING their ATTACK upon Mr. _POPE_, UNDER THEIR LEADER the _LAUREAT_. By SCRIBLERUS. _No Author ever spares a Brother; Wits are_ Game Cocks _to one another._ GAY. _LONDON_: Printed for W. WEBB, near St. _Paul_'s. 1742. [Price Six-pence.] THE SCRIBLERIAD. AN EPISTLE The Wits are jarring, and the Witlings strive, To keep the _dying_ Quarrel still _alive_; So shallow Gamesters, tho' they nothing get, All blind the _Dupe_, and aid the _sly Deceit_. Attend, ye SCRIBLERS! to your Leader's Call, Good Sense condemn, and pointed Satire maul; Ye DUNCES too! for ye not differ more Than _Bluff_ and _Wittol_, or than _Bawd_ and _Whore_: High on the Pedestal of Rank and State, Mounts rich _Sir Dunce_, and seems to ape the Great; Whilst low beneath the wretched Scribler lies, And his Inscription unrewarded eyes; Equal are they, whom _blund'ring Measures_ raise, And Bards who sasly censure, as they praise; The _Statesman_, well examin'd, will appear But Counterpart of his dear _Gazetteer_: Tho' One in his gilt Chariot proudly rolls, Or heads in _D----g-Room_ his Brother Tools-- And Th' other labours hard whate'er he says, Shining in Coffee-house with doubtful Phrase; Still restless in all Stations, pleas'd with none; For ever climbing, yet for ever down: Oft have we seen, that _Noblemen_ have wrote, And _Authors_ sometimes, strutting in _lac'd Coat_; But widely then from Nature's Ends they err, And play the Farce quite out of Character. As well may pious Jobbers of the Alley Pretend the _flying_ Troops of _France_ to rally. To proper Spheres, my Friends! yourselves confine! When COLLEY writes, a _Dunce_ may praise each Line; Whether _my Lord at Length_, he views the Plan, Or sculks beneath a _certain Gentleman_; But if that Lord the _Pen_ or _Press_ invade, Rouse, rouse, ye Tribe! he'll undermine your Trade,