Those hate as rivals all that write; and others
But envy wits, as eunuchs envy lovers.
All fuch have ftill an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing fide:
If Mavius fcribble in Apollo's fpight,
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 horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our ifle,.
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 'em, 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 justly bear a critic's noble name,
Be fure your. felf and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, tafte, and learning go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be difcreet,
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 pow'r 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 loofe the conquefts gain'd before,
By vain ambition ftill to make them more.
Each might his fev'ral province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.
First follow nature, and your judgment frame
By her just standard, which is ftill the fame:
Unerring nature, ftill divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and univerfal light,
Life, force, and beauty, muft to all impart,
At once the fource, and end, and test of art.
Art from that fund each juft fupply provides,
Works without show, and without pomp prefides
In fome fair body thus the fecret foul
With fpirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve fuftains;
Itself unseen, but in th' effects, remains.
There are whom heav'n has bleft with ftore of wit, Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at ftrife,
Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife. "Tis more to guide, than fpur the mufe's fteed; Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;
The winged courfer, like a gen'rous horse,
Shows moft true mettle when you check his course.
Thofe rules of old discover'd, not devis'd,.
Are nature ftill, but nature methodiz'd:
Nature, like Monarchy, is but reftrain'd
By the fame laws which first herself ordain'd.
Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites,
When to reprefs, and when indulge our flights!
High on Parnaffus' top her fons fhe fhow'd,.
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod,
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urg'd the reft by equal fteps to rife..
Juft* precepts thus from great examples giv'n,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from heav'n.
Nec enim artibus editis factum eft ut argumenta inveniremus, fed dicta funt omnia antequam præciperentur, mox ea fcriptores obfervata & collecta ediderunt. Quintil.
The gen'rous critic fann'd the poet's fire, 400
And taught the world, with reafon 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 ftray'd;
Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid,.
Set up themselves, and drove a fep'rate trade;
Against the poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate moft the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'pothecaries, taught the art
By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,
Prefcribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er fpoil'd fo much as they.
Some dryly plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made:
These loft the fenfe, their learning to display,
And thofe explain'd the meaning quite away.
You then whofe judgment the right course would
Know well each ancient's proper character;
His fable, fubject, scope in ev'ry page;
Religion, country, genius of his age:
Without all thefe at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticize.
Be Homer's works your study and delight, /25
Read them by day, and meditate by night,
Thence form your judgment, thence your notions
[bring,
And trace the mufes upward to their spring.
Still with itself compar'd, his text peruse;
And let your comment be the Mantuan muse. MP
*When firft young Maro fung of Kings and wars,
E're warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears,
Perhaps he seem'd above the critic's law,
And but from nature's fountains fcorn'd to draw;
But when t' examine ev'ry 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 works 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,
* Virgil, Eclog. 6. Cùm canerem Reges & pralia, Cynthius aurem
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