for there's a happiness as well as care. Music resembles poetry; in each are nameless graces which no methods teach, and which a master-hand alone can reach. If, where the rules not far enough extend, (since rules were made but to promote their end) 145 150 155 may boldly deviate from the common track. *Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, and rise to faults true critics dare not mend; from vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, and snatch a grace beyond the reach of art, which, without passing thro' the judgment, gains the heart, and all it's end at once attains. In prospects thus some objects please our eyes, which out of Nature's common order rise, the shapeless rock, or hanging precipice. But tho' the Ancients thus their rules invade, (as kings dispense with laws themselves have made) moderns, beware! or if you must offend against the precept, ne'er transgress it's end; let it be seldom, and compell'd by need; and have, at least, their precedent to plead; the critic else proceeds without remorse, seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force. 160 165 170 I know there are to whose presumptuous thoughts those freer beauties ev'n in them seem faults. Some figures monstrous and mis-shap'd appear consider'd singly or beheld too near, which but proportion'd to their light or place, due distance reconciles to form and grace. A prudent chief not always must display 175 his pow'rs in equal ranks and fair array, Still green with bays each ancient altar stands above the reach of sacrilegious hands, secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage, destructive war, and all-involving age. 180 See from each clime the learn'd their incense bring! hear in all tongues consenting Pæans ring! in praise so just let ev'ry voice be join'd, 186 and fill the gen'ral chorus of mankind. Hail, Bards triumphant! born in happier days, immortal heirs of universal praise! whose honours with increase of ages grow, 190 195 as streams roll down, enlarging as they flow; nations unborn your mighty name shall sound, and worlds applaud that must not yet be found! O may some spark of your celestial fire the last, the meanest, of your sons inspire, (that on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights, glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes) to teach vain wits a science little known, t' admire superior sense, and doubt their own! 200 Of all the causes which conspire to blind man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, what the weak head with strongest bias rules, is pride, the never-failing vice of fools. Whatever nature has in worth deny'd she gives in large recruits of needful pride: for as in bodies thus in souls we find what wants in blood and spirits swell'd with wind: pride, where wit fails steps in to our defence, 205 and fills up all the mighty void of sense: 210 215 220 225 and the first clouds and mountains seem the last: 230 235 A perfect judge will read each work of wit with the same spirit that it's author writ; survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind; nor lose, for that malignant dull delight, the gen❜rous pleasure to be charm'd with wit. But in such lays as neither ebb nor flow, correctly cold, and regularly low, 240 3. that shunning faults one quiet tenor keep, we cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep. In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts is not th' exactness of peculiar parts; 245 Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome, (the world's just wonder, and even thine, O Rome!) no single parts unequally surprise, all comes united to th' admiring eyes; 250 no monstrous height, or breadth, or length, appear; the whole at once is bold and regular. Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be. since none can compass more than they intend; Once on a time La Mancha's Knight, they say, a certain bard encount'ring on the way, discours'd in terms as just, with looks as sage, as e'er could Dennis of the Grecian stage, concluding all were desp'rate sots and fools who durst depart from Aristotle's rules. Our Author, happy in a judge so nice, 255 260 265 270 275 produc'd his play, and begg'd the Knight's advice; made him observe the subject and the plot, the manners, passions, unites; what not; all which exact to rule were brought about, were but a combat in the lists left out. "What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the Knight yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite." 280 Not so, by Heav'n! (he answers in a rage) knights, squires, and steeds, must enter on the stage, so vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain." "Then build a new, or act it on a plain." Thus critics of less judgment than caprice, curious, not knowing, not exact, but nice, form short ideas, and offend in arts (as most in manners) by a love to parts. 285 295 Some to Conceit alone their taste confine, and glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line; 290 pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit, one glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. Poets, like painters, thus unskill'd to trace the naked nature and the living grace, with gold and jewels cover ev'ry part, and hide with ornaments their want of art. True wit is nature to advantage dress'd, what oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd; something whose truth convinc'd at sight we find, that give us back the image of our mind. As shades more sweetly recommend the light, so modest plainness sets off sprightly wit: 300 305 for works may have more wit than does them good, as bodies perish thro' excess of blood. Others for language all their care express, and value books as women men, for dress: their praise is still---the style is excellent; the sense they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves, and where they most abound, much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 310 |