Thus, with impartial care, my art I fhow,

And equal arms on either fex bestow:

While men and maids, who by my rules improve,
Ovid muft own their mafter is in love.

OF PLEAS IN G

ΑΝ

EPISTLE

TO SIR RICHARD TEMPLE.

"T

IS ftrange, dear Temple, how it comes to pass,
That no one man is pleas'd with what he has.
So Horace fings---and fure, as strange is this :
That no one man 's difpleas'd with what he is.
The foolish, ugly, dull, impertinent,

Are with their perfons and their parts content.
Nor is that all, fo odd a thing is man,

He moft would be what leaft he fhould or can.
Hence, homely faces ftill are foremost seen,
And cross-fhap'd fops affect the nicest mien
Cowards extol true courage to the fkies,
And fools are ftill moft forward to advise;
Th' untrusted wretch to fecrecy pretends,
Whifpering his nothing round to all as friends.
Dull rogues affect the politicians part,

And learn to nod, and smile, and shrug with art;
Who nothing has to lofe, the war bewails;
And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails.

Thus

your nofc

Thus man perverse against plain nature strives,
And to be artfully abfurd contrives.
Plautus will dance, Lufcus at ogling aims,
Old Tritus keeps, and undone Probus games.
Noifome Curculio, whofe envenom'd breath,
Though at a diftance utter'd, threatens death,
Full in your teeth his stinking whisper throws ;
Nor mends his manners, though you hold
Therfites, who feems born to give offence,
From uncouth form, and frontless impudence,
Affumes foft airs, and with a flur comes in,
Attempts a fimile, and fhocks you with a grin.
Raucus harangues with a diffuafive grace,
And Helluo invites with a forbidding face.
Nature to each allots his proper fphere,
But, that forfaken, we like comets err :

Tofs'd through the void, by some rude shock we're broke,
And all her boafted fire is loft in fmoke.

Next to obtaining wealth, or power, or ease,
Men most affect in general to please:
Of this affection vanity's the fource,
And vanity alone obftructs its courfe;
That telescope of fools, through which they spy
Merit remote, and think the object nigh.
The glafs remov'd, would each himself survey,
And in just scales his ftrength and weakness weigh,
Pursue the path for which he was defign'd,

And to his proper force adapt his mind;
Scarce one, but to fome merit might pretend,
Perhaps might please, at least would not offend.

Whe

Who would reprove us while he makes us laugh,
Muft be no Bavius, but a Bickerstaff.

If Gaith, or Blackmore, friendly potions give,
We bid the dying patient drink and live:

When Murus. comes, we cry, "Beware the pill;"
And with the tradefinan were a tradefinan ftill.
If Addifon, or Rowe, or Prior write,

We ftudy them with profit and delight :

But when vile Macor and Mundungus rhyme,
We grieve we've learnt to read, ay, curfe the time.
All rules of pleafing in this one unite,

"Affect not any thing in Nature's spite."
Baboons aud apes ridiculous we find;

For what? For ill-refembling human-kind.
"None are, for being what they are, in fault,

"But for not being what they would be thought.”
Thus I, dear friend, to you my thoughts impart,
As to one perfect in the pleafing art;

If art it may be call'd in you, who feem,
By Nature form'd for Love, and for Efteem.
Affecting none, all virtues you poffefs,
And really are what others but profefs.
I'll not offend you, while myfelf I pleafe;
I loathe to flatter, though I love to praife.
But when fuch early worth fo bright appears,
And antedates the fame which waits on years;
I can't fo ftupidly affected prove,

Not to confefs it in the man I love.

Though now I aim not at that known applaufe
You've won in arms, and in your country's caufe;

Nor

Nor patriot now, nor hero I commend,

But the companion praise, and boast the friend.
But you may think, and fome, lefs partial, fay,
That I prefume too much in this effay.

How should I fhow what pleases? How explain
A rule, to which I never could attain?
To this objection I'll make no reply,
But tell a tale, which, after, we'll apply.
I've read, or heard, a learned perfon, once
(Concern'd to find his only fon a dunce)
Compos'd a book in favour of the lad,
Whofe memory, its feems, was very bad..
This work contain'd a world of wholesome rules,
To help the frailty of forgetful fools.

The careful parent laid the treatife by,
Till Time fhould make it proper to apply,
Simon at length the look'd-for age attains,
To read and profit by his father's pains;
And now the fire prepare the books t'impart,
Which was yclept of memory and art.
But ah! how oft is human care in vain!
For now, he could not find his book again.
The place where he had laid it he forgot,
Nor could himself remember what he wrote.
Now to apply the story that I tell,
Which, if not true, is yet invented well,
Such is my cafe: Like most of theirs who teach;
I ill may practife, what I well may preach,
Myfelf not trying, or not turn'd to please,
May lay the line, and measure out the ways.

The Mulcibers, who in the Minories fweat,
And maffive bars on ftubborn anvils beat,
Deform'd themselves, yet, forge thofe stays of steel,
Which-arm Aurelia with a fhape to kill.

So Macer and Mundungus fchool the times,
And write in rugged profe the rules of fofter rhymes.
Well do they play the careful critic's part,
Inftructing doubly by their matchlefs art :

Rules for good verse they first with pains indite,
Then fhew us what are bad, by what they write.

A

L

ETTER

To the Right Honourable the

LORD VISCOUNT COBHAM, 1729.

"Albi fermonum noftrorum candide judex."

SINCEREST Critic of my profe or rhime,

Tell how thy pleafing Stowe employs thy time, Say, Cobham, what amufes thy retreat?

Or ftratagems of war, or schemes of state?

Doft thou recall to mind with joy, or grief,

Great Marlborough's actions? That immortal chief,
Whose slightest trophy rais'd in each campaign,
More than fuffic'd to fignalize a reign?
Does thy remembrance rifing warm thy heart,
With glory past, where thou thy felf hadst part,
Or doft thou grieve indignant now to fee,
The fruitless end of all thy victory?

Το