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ESSAY ON CRITICISM.

'Tis hard to fay, if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two, lefs dangerous is th' offence
To tire our patience, than mislead our sense.
Some few in that, but numbers err in this,
Ten cenfure wrong for one who writes amifs;
A fool might once himself alone expose,
Now one in verse makes many more in profe.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches; none
Go juft alike, yet each believes his own.
In poets as true genius is but rare,
True tafle as feldom is the critic's share;
Both muft alike from Heaven derive their light,
Thefe born to judge, as well as thofe to write.
Let fuch teach others who themselves excel,
And cenfure freely who have written well:
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true;
But are not critics to their judgment too?

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Yet, if we look more clofely, we shall find
Moft have the feeds of judgment in their mind: 20
Nature affords at least a glimmering light; [right,|
The lines, though touch'd but faintly, are drawn
But as the flightest sketch, if juftly trac'd,
ls by ill colouring but the more difgrac'd,
So by falfe learning is good fenfe defac'd:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And fome made coxcombs nature meant but fools.
In fearch of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can, or cannot write,
Or with a rivals, or an eunuch's fpite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing fide.
If Mavius fcribble in Apollo's fpite,
There are who judge ftill worfe than he can write.
Some have at first for wits, then poets past;
Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at laft.
Some neither can for wits nor critics pafs,
As heavy mules are neither horfe nor afs.

VARIATIONS.

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Thofe half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd infects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,
Their generation 's fo equivocal:

To tell them would a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire.

But you, who feek to give and merit fame,
And juilly bear a critic's noble name,
Be fure yourself and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, tafte, and learning, go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be difcreet, 50
And mark that point where fenfe and dulnefs meet.
Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit,
And wifely curb'd proud man's pretending wit:
As on the land while here the ocean gains,
In other parts it leaves wide fandy plains;
Thus in the foul while memory prevails,
The folid power of understanding fails;
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's foft figures melt away.
One science only will one genius fit;
So vaft is art, fo narrow human wit:
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft in those confin'd to fingle parts.
Like kings, we lofe the conquefts gain'd before,
By vain ambition fill to make them more:
Each might his feveral province well command,
Would all but ftoop to what they understand.

60

70

First follow nature; and your judgment frame
30 By her juft ftandard, which is still the fame :
Unerring NATURE, ftill divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and univerfal light,
Life, force, and beauty, muft to all intpart,
At once the fource, and end, and teft of art,
Art from that fund each juft fupply provides;
Works without fhew, and without pomp prefides,
In fome fair body thus th' informing foul
With fpirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and every nerve fuftains;
Itself unfeen, but in th' effects remains.
Some, to whom Heaven in wit has been profufe,
Want as much more, to turn it to its ufe;

Between ver. 25 and 26 were thefe lines, fince For wit and judginent often are at ftrife,

omitted by the Author:

Many are spoil'd by that pedantic throng,
Who with great pains teach youth to reafon wrong:
Tutors, like virtuofos, oft inclin'd

By ftrange transfufion to improve the mind,
Draw off the fenfe we have, to pour in new:
Which yet, with all their skill, they ne'er could do.
Ver. 30, 31. In the first edition thus:
Thofe hate as rivals all that write; and others
But envy wits, as eunuchs envy lovers.

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Ver. 32. All fools," in the first edition: "All "fuch," in edition, 1717; fince restored. VOL. VIII.

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Though meant each others aid, like man and wife.

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Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules endites,
When to reprefs, and when indulge our flights:
High on Parnaffus' top her fons the fhew'd,
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod :
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urg'd the rest by equal steps to rife.
Juft precepts thus from great example given,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from heaven.
The generous critic fann'd the poet's fire,
And taught the world with reason to admire.
Then criticism the mufe's handmaid prov'd,
To drefs her charms, and make her more belov'd:
But following wits from that intention stray'd,
Who could not win the mistress woo'd the maid;
Against the poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'pothecaries taught the art
By doctors bills to play the doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of miftaken rules,
Prescribe, apply, and call their mafters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er fpoil'd fo much as they :
Soine drily plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made.
These leave the fenfe, their learning to difplay,
And those explain the meaning quite away. [fteer,
You then whofe judgment the right course would
Know well each Ancient's proper character:
His fable, fubject, scope in every page;
Religion, country, genius of his age:
Without all thefe at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticife.

Be Homer's works your ftudy and delight
Read them by day, and meditate by night,;

VARIATIONS.

110

Ver. 90. Ed. I. Nature, like monarchy, &c.
Ver. 92.
First learned Greece juft precepts did endite,
When to reprefs, and when indulge our flight.
Ver. 97.

From great examples ufeful rules were given.
After ver. 104, this line is omitted:
Set up themselves, and drove a feparate trade.
Ver. 116. Ed. 1. These loft, &c.
Ver. 117. And thefe explain'd, &c.

120

Ver. 123. Ed. 1. You may confound, but, &c. Ver. 123. Cavil you may, but never criticise. The Author after this verfe originally inferted the following, which he has however omitted in all the editions:

Zoilus, had these been known, without a name
Had dy'd, and Perault ne'er been damn'd to fame:
The fenfe of found antiquity had reign'd,
And facred Homer yet been unprofan’d.
None e'er had thought his comprehenfive mind
To modern customs, modern rules confin'd;
Who for all ages writ, and all mankind.

Thence form your judgment, thence your maxims

bring,

And trace the mufes upward to their spring;
Still with itself compar'd, his text perufe ;
And let your comment be the Mantuan mufe.
When firft young Maro, in his boundless
mind

A work t'outlaft immortal Rome defign'd, 131
Perhaps he seem'd above the critic's law,
And but from nature's fountains fcorn'd to draw
But when t' examine every part he came,
Nature and Homer were, he found, the fame.
Convinc'd, amaz'd, he checks the bold defign;
And rules as ftrict his labour'd work confine,
As if the Stagyrite o'erlook'd each line.
Learn hence for ancient rules a just esteem;
To copy nature, is to copy them.

Some beauties yet no precepts can declare,
For there's a happiness as well as care.
Mufic refembles poetry; in each

140

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Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a mafter-hand alone can reach.
If, where the rules not far enough extend,
(Since rules were made but to promote their

end),

150

Some lucky license answer to the full
Th' intent propos'd, that license is a rule.
Thus Pegasus, a nearer way to take,
May boldly deviate from the common tráck;
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And fnatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which, without paffing through the judgment,
gains

The heart, and all its end at once attains.
In profpects thus, fome objects please our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order rife,
The shapeless rock, or hanging precipice.
Great wits fometimes may gloriously offend,
And rife to faults true critics dare not mend. 160
But though the ancients thus their rules invade
(As kings difpenfe with laws themselves have
made);

Moderns, beware! or, if you must offend
Against the precept, ne'er tranfgrefs its end:
Let it be feldom, and compell'd by need;
And have, at leaft, their precedent to plead.
The critic elfe proceeds without remorse.
Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.

VARIATIONS. Ver. 126.

Thence form your judgment, thence your notions bring.

Ver. 130.

When firft young Maro fung of kings and wars,
Ere warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears.
Ver. 130. Ed. 1. When first great Maro, &c.
Ver. 136.

Convinc'd, amaz'd, he check'd the bold defign;
And did his work to rules as ftrict confine.
Ver. 145. Ed. 1. And which a master's hand, &c.
After ver. 158. the firft edition reads,
But care in poetry must still be had,
It afks difcretion ev'n in running mad;
And though the ancients, &c.

And what are now ver. 159, 160, followed ver. 15

I know there are, towhose prefumptuousthoughts 1 how freer beauties, ev'n in them, feem faults. 170 Soue Agures monitrous and mif-fhap'd appear, Confider'd fingly, or beheld too, near, Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place, Due diftance reconciles to form and grace. A prudent chief not always muff display His powers in equal ranks, and fair array, But with th' occafion and the place comply, Conceal his force, nay fometimes feem to fly. Thofe oft are stratagems which error seem, Ner is it Homer nods, but we that dream.

180

Still green with bays each ancient altar ftands,
Above the reach of facrilegious hands;
Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer tage,
Destructive war, and all-involving age.

See from each clime the learn'd their incenfe bring!
Hear, in all tongues confenting Paans ring:
In praife fo juft let every voice be join'd,
And fill the general chorus of mankind.
Hail, bards triumphant! born in happier days;
Immortai heirs of univerfal praife!

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Whofe honours with increase of ages grow,
As areams roll down, enlarging as they flow;
Nations unborn your mighty names fhall found,
And worlds applaud that muft not yet be found!
O may fome (park of your celeftial fire,
The last, the meaneft of your fons infpire,
(That, on weak wings, from far purfues your flights,
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes)
To teach vain wits a fcience little known,
T'admire fuperior fenfe, and doubt their own :
Of all the caufes which confpire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and mifgvide the mind,
What the weak head with ftrongeft bias rules,
spie, the never-failing voice of fools.
Whatever nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride!
For as in bodies, thus in fouls, we find
What wants in blood and fpirits,fwell'd with wind:
Pride, where wit fails, fteps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty void of fenfe.

201

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I once right reafon drives that cloud away, Truth breaks upon us with resistless day. Truf not yourfelf; but, your defects to know, Make ufe of every friend-and every foc. A little learning is a dangerous thing! Drink deep, or tafte not the Pierian fpring: There fhallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely fobers us again. Fir'd at first fight with what the mule imparts, In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts, 220

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While, from the bounded level of our mind, Short views we take, nor fee the lengths behind; But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise New diftant fcenes of endless science rife!

So pleas'd at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and feem to tread the sky;
Th' eternal fnows appear already past,

And the first clouds and mountains feem the laft:
But, thofe attain'd, we tremble to furvey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way; 230
Th' increafing profpect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arife!

A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the fame spirit that its author writ:
Survey the whole, nor feek flight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the
mind;

Nor lofe, for that malignant dull delight,
The generous pleasure to be charm'd with wit.
But, in fuch lays as neither ebb nor flow,
Correctly cold, and regularly low,

240

That, frunning faults, one quiet tenour keep;
We cannot blame indeed-but we may fleep.
In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts
f not th' exactnefs of peculiar parts;
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full refult of all.
Thus when we view fome well-proportion'd dome,
(The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O
Rome!)

No fngle parts unequally surprise,
All comes united to th' admiring eyes;
No menftrous height, or breadth, or length ap-

pear;

The whole at once is bold, and regular.

250

Whoever thinks a faultless piece to fee, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be. In every work regard the writer's end, Since notte can compass more than they intend; And if the means be juft, the cotiduct true, Applaufe, in spite of trivial faults, is due. As men of breeding, fometimes men of wit, T' avoid great errors mult the lefs commit: 260 Neglect the rules each verbal critic lays, For not to know fome tries, is a praise. Moft critics, forid of fome fubfervient art, Still make the whole depend upon a part: They talk of principles, but notions prize, And all to one lov'd folly facrifice. Once on a time, La Mancha's knight, they say, A certain bard encountering on the way, Difcours'd in terms as juft, with looks as fage, As e'er could Dennis, of the Grecian stage; 270

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So vaft a throng the flage can ne'er contain.
Then build a new, or ac it in a plain."
Thus critics, of lefs judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact but nice,
Form fhort ideas; and offend in arts
(As most in manners) by a love to parts.

289

Some to conceit alone their tafte confine, And glittering thoughts ftruck out at every line; Pleas'd with a work where nothing's juft 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 every part, And hide with ornaments their want of art. Frue wit is nature to advantage dress'd, What oft was thought, but ne'er fo well exprefs'd; Something, whofe truth convinc'd at fight we find, 1 hat gives us back the image of our mind. 300 As fhades more fweetly recommend the light, So modeft plainnefs fets off fprightly wit; For works may have more wit than does them good,

As bedies perifh through excefs of blood.

Others for language all their care express, And value books, as women men, for dress: Their praife is thill-the ftyle is excellent : The fenfe, they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves; and where they moft abound, Much fruit of fenfe beneath is rarely found. 310 Falfe eloquence, like the prifmatic glafs, Its gaudy colours fpreads on every place; The face of nature we no more furvey, All glares alike, without diftinétion gay: But true expreffion, like th' unchanging fun, Clears and improves whate'er it fhines upon; It gilds all objects, but it alters none. Expreffion is the drefs of thought, and flill Appears more decent, as more fuitable; A vile conceit in pompous words exprefs'd, Is like a clown in regal purple drefs'd: For different ftyles with different fubjects fort, As feveral garbs, with country, town, and court. Some by old words to fame have made pretence, Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense;

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 272. Ed. 1. That durft, &c.

Ver. 2,8. Ld. 1.

320

What oft was thought, but ne'er before exprefs'd. Va. 320 Ed. 1.

A vill conceit in pompots ftyl. exprefs'd.

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Such labour'd nothings, in fo ftrange a ftyle,
Amaze th' unlearn'd, and make the learned fmile.
Unlucky, as Fungofa in the play,
Thefe fparks with aukward vanity display
What the fine gentleman wore yesterday; 330,
And but fo mimic ancient wits at best,
As apes our grandfires in their doublets dreft.
In words, as fashions, the fame rule will hold;
Alike fantastic, if too new or old:

Be not the first by whom the new are try'd,
Nor yet the last to lay the old afide.

But most by numbers judge a poet's fong; And fmooth or rough, with them, is right or [fpire,

wrong:

In the bright muse though thousand charms con-
Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire; 340
Who haunt Parnassus but to please their ear,
Not mend their minds; as fome to church repair,
Not for the doctrine, but the music there.
Thefe, equal fyllables alone require,
Though oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid do join,
And ten low words oft creep in one dull line:
While they ring round the fame unvary'd chimes,
With fure returns of ftill expected rhymes; 349
Where'er you find " the cooling western breeze,
In the next line it "whispers through the trees:"
If crystal streams "with pleafing murmurs creep,"
The reader's threaten'd (not in vain) with "fleep:"
Then at the last and only couplet fraught
With fome unmeaning thing they call a thought,
A needlefs Alexandrine ends the fong,
That, like a wounded snake, drags its flow length
along.
[know
Leave fuch to tune their own dull rhymes, and
What's roundly fmooth, or languishingly flow;
And praise the easy vigour of a line,
Where Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness
join.

360

True cafe in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move eafieft who have learn'd to dance.
'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence,
The found muft feem an echo to the fenfe :
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;
But when loud furges lafh the founding shore,
The hoarfe, rough verfe fhould like the torrent roar.
When Ajax ftrives fome rock's vaft weight to
throw,
370

The line too labours, and the words move flow :
Not fo when swift Camilla fcours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the
main.

Hear how Timotheus' vary'd lays furprise,
And bid alternate paflions fall and rife!
While, at cach change, the fon of Libyan Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now his fierce cyes with sparkling fury glow,
Now fighs fical out, and tears begin to flow :

VARIATIONS.

Ver 338. Ed. 1. And smooth or rough, with fuch, &c. Ver 363. 394. Thefe lines are added. Ver. 368. But when loud billows, &c.

Perfians and Greeks like turns of nature found, 380
And the world's victor stood subdued by found!
The power of mufic all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now.
Avoid extremes; and fhun the fault of fuch,
Who ftill are pleas'd too little or too much.
At every trifle fcorn to take offence,

That always fhows great pride, or little sense;
Those heads, as ftomachs, are not sure the best,
Which nauseate all, and nothing can digeft.
Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move; 390
For fools admire, but men of fense approve :
As things feem large which we through mists
defcry,

Dulnefs is ever apt to magnify.

Some foreign writers, fome our own despise; The ancients only, or the moderns prize : Thus wit, like faith, by each man is apply'd To one fmall fect, and all are damn'd befide. Meanly they seek the blessing to confine, And force that fun but on a part to fhine, Which not alone the fouthern wit fublimes, 400 But ripens fpirits in cold northern climes; Which from the first has fhone on ages past, Enlights the prefent, and fhall warm the last; Though each may feel increases and decays, And fee now clearer and now darker days. Regard not then if wit be old or new, But blame the falfe, and value ftill the true. Some ne'er advance a judgment of their own, But catch the spreading notion of the town; They reafon and conclude by precedent, And own stale nonsense which they ne'er invent. Some judge of authors names, not works, and then Nor praife nor blame the writings, but the men. Of all this fervile herd, the worst is he That in proud dulnefs joins with quality; A confiant critic at the great man's board, To fetch and carry nonfenfe for my lord, What woful ftuff this madrigal would be, In fome ftarv'd hackney-fonneteer, or me! But let a lord once own the happy lines, How the wit brightens! how the ftyle refines! Before his facred name flies every fault, And each exalted ftanza teems with thought! The vulgar thus through imitation err;

As oft the learn'd by being fingular;

410

420

431

So much they fcorn the crowd, that if the throng
By chance go right, they purposely go wrong:
So Schifmatics the plain believers quit,
And are but damn'd for having too much wit.
Some praise at morning what they blame at night,
But always think the laft opinion right.
A mufe by these is like a mistress us'd,
This hour fhe's idoliz'd, the next abus'd;
While their weak heads, like towns unfortify'd,
'Twixt fenfe and nonfenfe daily change their fide.
Ask them the caufe; they're wifer ftill, they fay;
And still to-morrow's wifer than to-day.
We think our fathers fools, fo wife we grow ;
Our wifer fons, no doubt, will think us fo,

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 394. Ed. 1. Some the French writers, &c.
Ver. 413. Ed. 1. Nor praife nor damn, &c.
Ver. 428. So Schifmatics the dull, &c,

Once school divines this zealous ifle o'erfpread;
Who knew moft fentences was deepest read: 445
Faith, gofpel, all, feem'd made to be difputed,
And none had sense enough to be confuted:
Scotifts and Thomifts, now in peace remain,
Amidst their kindred cobwebs in Duck-lane.
If faith itself has different dreffes worn,
What wonder modes in wit fhould take their
turn?

Oft, leaving what is natural and fit,
The current folly proves the ready wit;
And authors think their reputation safe,
Which lives as long as fools are pleas'd to laugh.

450

461

Some, valuing those of their own fide or mind, Still make themselves the measure of mankind : Fondly we think we honour merit then, When we but praise ourselves in other men. Parties in wit attend on those of state, And public faction doubles private hate. Pride, malice, folly, against Dryden rofe, In various fhapes of parfons, critics, beaux : But fenfe furviv'd, when merry jefts were paft; For rising merit will buoy up at last. Might he return, and blefs once more our eyes, New Blackmores and new Milbourns muft arife: Nay, fhould great Homer lift his awful head, Zoilus again would start up from the dead. Envy will merit, as its fhade, purfue; But, like a fhadow, proves the substance true: For envy'd wit, like Sol eclips'd, makes known Th' oppofing body's groffness, not its own. When first that fun too powerful beams difplays.

It draws up vapours which obfcure its rays; 47 But ev'n thofe clouds at laft adorn its way, Reflect new glories, and augment the day.

Be thou the first, true merit to befriend; His praife is loft, who flays till all commend. Short is the date, alas, of modern rhymes, And 'tis but just to let them live betimes. No longer now that golden age appears, When patriarch-wits furviv'd a thousand years; Now length of fame (our fecond life) is loft, 48 And bare threefcore is all ev'n that can boat; Our fons their fathers failing language fee, And fuch as Chaucer is, fhall Dryden be. So when the faithful pencil has defign'd Some bright idea of the master's mind, Where a new world leaps out at his command, And ready nature waits upon his hand;

VARIATIONS.

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