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 AAIMONiaTEPOT. 
 
 Longin. de Subl. Sc6l. 35. 
 
 THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed for R. and J. Dodsley in 
 M.DCC.LV. 
 
a-. - 
 
 
The E D I T O R’s 
 
 ADVERTI SEMENT 
 
 T O T H E 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 T HE following Obiervations 
 upon Taste were call into 
 Letters, to take away, as much as 
 poffible, the formal Air of a dida&ic 
 Performance. As it is no longer 
 a Secret who is the Author, to prefix 
 to this fecond Edition the Ad- 
 vertiiement which came out with 
 the firft, would be as ridiculous as 
 Sir Martin Mar-alls pretending 
 to play on the dumb Lute the in 
 Sight of his Miftreis, fome time 
 A 3 after 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 after the real Muflc had ceas’d 
 which play’d behind him. The 
 Editor therefore is now empower’d 
 to declare, that the Author is de- 
 termin’d neither to make material 
 Alterations in any future Edition, 
 nor to tire the Public with wire- 
 drawing the Subje£l into a lecond 
 Volume. 
 
 THE 
 
THE 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 To Euphemius. Page i 
 
 Letter 
 
 I. A Good Taf e an inflantaneous FeeU 
 i n g 0 f w ]jat i s beautiful . Truths 
 Beauty , and Utility coincident 5 in- 
 Jlanced in a view of a rural ProfpeCt^ 
 in Architecture, in the mimetic Arts , 
 and in Characters and in Manners . 
 That Tajle precedes the fower Facul- 
 ties of the Reafon 7 and thofe of Imagi- 
 nation , , but is never repugnant to the 
 former. Why God implanted this in- 
 ternal Perception in us 0 
 
 To the Same. p. 10 
 
 II, That Beauty may receive fome addi- 
 tional Charms , but thefe fill confjlent 
 with truth . What thofe Charms are . 
 Known by the Word Taftefuh by way 
 A 4 ' of 
 
C O N T E N T S. 
 
 f 
 
 of DiftinCtion > in all ObjeBs . Redu- 
 cible upon Examination to an Analogy 
 with pleafurable moral Ideas in the 
 human Mind. That the mo ft faithful 
 Difciples of Nature are the moji ad- 
 mired Artifis. 
 
 To the Same. p. 15 
 
 Letter 
 
 III. Probable Conjectures to be made con- 
 cerning a Man's lafte in Morals from 
 his Pa fie of Objects in the Phyfcal 
 World . Why. Infances given . 
 
 To the Same. p. 22 
 
 IV. That Artifls cannot avoid di [covering 
 their own Pempers in their Works f 
 inftanced in the remarkable Lives of 
 Raphael Urbin, Michael An- 
 gelo Buonaroti, and the Family 
 of the Bass a ns. How far Men are 
 indebted to the Fair for a Delicacy of 
 Pafie > particularly Raphael. 
 
 To the Same. p. 29 
 
 Y\ Phat a fine Pafie does not depend upon 
 any one Branch of the human Syftem , 
 viz. not upon the intellectual Powers 
 alone ; nor upon the Organs of Senfe 
 alone ; nor upon the Imagination alone ;■ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 but upon a happy Union of all three . 
 Mr. Addison had an exquifte Tafte, 
 but no great Talents for Poetry , A 
 beautiful Defcription in the Iliad 
 equat'd by Mr. Pope's Tranfation . 
 An Encomium on a Latin Poem , and 
 a Criticifm on the bad Tajlc of two 
 Tranfators of the fame . 
 
 To the Same, P* 34 
 
 Letter 
 
 VI. An Opinion in the laft Letter concern- 
 ing Air. Addison fupported. A Cri- 
 ticifm on two celebrated Paffages in 
 his Works , and Commendation of his 
 V ranfations of Ovid. 
 
 To the Same. p. 43 
 
 VII. Poetry and Painting compared. Some 
 Subjects pecidiar to one , and fome in 
 common to both . The Superiority of 
 the former to the latter. Night-Pieces 
 tf/’ Milton, Homer, and Shake- 
 spear. The inimitable Tajle and 
 Excellence of the laft in Defcription. 
 Obfervations on a Jhort Sketch of the 
 Evening by Hom e r . Part of an Ode 
 to the Evening by Mr. Collins. His 
 animating Group of Figures. 
 
 To 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Letter To the Same. p. 52 
 
 VI I L Phe had Tajle of many modern Ar - 
 tifts in the choice of their Subjects. 
 Phat every Art Jhoidd regard its pro- 
 per End , which is the Improvement 
 of Mankind in moral Science . Pro- 
 per Subjects pointed out. Pictures of 
 Infancy, Youth, Manhood, and 
 Old Age. A beautiful Subject for the 
 Pathetick in Painting. Where a good 
 Pafte in Morals prevails , a good Pafte 
 in Nature and the Arts will accom- 
 pany it. 
 
 To the Same. p. 61 
 
 IX. Phe wretched Pa fie for Architecture^ 
 and domeftic Ornament s, that prevails 
 about London. Mucxo’s Palace a 
 contemptible Heap of tajlelefs Mag- 
 nificence. 
 
 To E u g e n 1 o. p. 66 
 
 X. Huw Sir John Davies, in his Poe?n 
 on the Immortality of the Soul, ac- 
 counts for the Spirits of Senfe, i. e . 
 Taste. A true Relijh for proper 
 Means to procure Happinejs dependent 
 upon a corrednejs of Fancy. Eugenio 
 
 warned 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 warned againjl the Delufcn of a falfe 
 one by an Arabian Story. 
 
 ToEuphemius. P-7i 
 
 Letter 
 
 XL Nothing corrupts a good Tafle mere 
 than frequently reading the Italian 
 Poets . A Criticifm on the Aminta 
 and Paftor Fido. SomePafages in both 
 cenfured for bad Ttafle. Milton's 
 Comus, and Fletcher's Faithful 
 Shepherdefs, much fuperior to the two 
 Italian dramatic Pa florals* Some Paf- 
 fages cited from the Faithful Shep- 
 herdefs. 
 
 To Philemon, p. 80 
 
 XII. Concerning the Ruins ^Palmyra. 
 5 The great Afjiduity of Mr. Dawkins 
 and Mr. Wood applauded. Their 
 Tafe an Honour to our Country. A 
 Confetti ure that the Temple of the Sun 
 was built by Longinus, from a fmi- 
 larity of Tafe in other Arts. A Cri- 
 tieijm upon the Ufe of the Corin- 
 thian Order only in that City. A 
 Reafon why that Order was fo much 
 admir'd there. A Paffage in Lon- 
 ginus’s Treatife on the Sublime, 
 cited y describing the Prog refs of Wealth 
 
 to 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 to Luxury , and of Luxury to a Cor- 
 ruption of Tafte in Morals . A na~ 
 tional Corruption of Tafe in Morals 
 always productive of a bad one in 
 Arts, &c. 
 
 To Leonora, p. 88 
 
 Letter 
 
 XIII. Congratulations on her Marriage with 
 Aristus. Lb at a Tafe for Elegance 
 in the leffer Concerns of Life is neceff 
 fary to retain the Affections of a Huff 
 bandy as well as the more effential Du- 
 ties . A Fable concerning Cupid, 
 Psyche, and Taste. 
 
 To the Same. p. 
 
 XIV. Tafe for conjugal joys expreffd in 
 an old Song written by a Bridegroom . 
 
 ToEuph EMIUS. p). IOO 
 
 XV. A Cenfure on that commGUy falfe, tafte- 
 lefs Remarky that we have now no 
 Poets . An Eulogium on Dr. A k i n - 
 IB I DE, Mr . G R AY, Mr . N TJ GE N t, Mr. 
 Collins, and Mr. Mason. Their 
 Tafte and Genius in their refpe Clive 
 CompoftionSy fuperior to the Romans 
 in the fame Species of Poetry , and equal 
 to the Grecians. 
 
 To 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 To P H I L E T H E S. p. 106 
 
 Letter 
 
 XVI. The wretched Tafle of playing Tragedy 
 till Garrick reftored Nature to her 
 lawful Empire on the Stage . A Cri - 
 ticifm on a line in Horace, mifun- 
 der/lood by the generality of Commen- 
 tators. A Comp ar if on ^Garrick 
 with the Roman Roscius. The EjfeB 
 a well regulated Theatre has upon the 
 Tafe of a whole Nation . 
 
 To Eugenio. p. 1 1 3 
 
 XVII. Eu phemius’s happy Tafle in Convert 
 fation. d- his Talent dejcribed by Shake- 
 fpear in the Character of Biron. 
 Homer and Dryden life the fame 
 Expreflion in defcribing the Grace of 
 fpeaking . A refin'd Tafle herein ac- 
 quired by Corner fation with Women, 
 injlanced 'in a Comp ar if on betwixt 
 Voiture and Balsac, whofe Writ- 
 ings are here contra fled* 
 
 To A R I S T U S. p. I 19 
 
 XVIII. The graceful Manner of conferring a 
 Benefit as much admired in the Cha - 
 ratler of Agathocles as the Deed 
 of Charity itfelf An emblematical 
 Prelude of the beneficent Reign of 
 
 * Omar, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Omar, an Emperor of the Saracens. 
 'Eh at without a tajlejul and tender 
 Addrefs in relieving the Difireffed , 
 Munificence may encreafe their Mijery : 
 infianc' 4 in the remarkable Fate of 
 Pandolfo Malatesta Sovereign 
 of Remini. Eh at Nature herfelf 
 will fuggeft this lenient Art to thofe 
 who have Souls truly benevolent . 
 
 Letter To Critophilus. p.126 
 
 XI X. What Addrefs and Tafie of Compofition 
 is required in Works of Criticifm , 
 Able Scholars have mifcarried for 
 want of this proper Delicacy : infianc'd 
 in Mr . Anthony Blackwall’s 
 Introduction to the Ciaffics. A Cri- 
 ticifm on Pafiages extracted from that 
 Work , as Specimens of falfe Tafie and 
 aukward Compofition . — The revival of 
 true Criticifm in the Writings of thofe 
 three celebrated Geniufes , the Author of 
 Reflexions Critiques fur la Peinture et 
 la Poefie; the Author of the Enquiry 
 into the Life and Writings of Homer • 
 and the Author of the Notes and Com- 
 mentary on Horace’s two critical 
 Epiftles. What their Excellence con- 
 fifis in , 
 
 Tm 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 To Edph E M I u s, P* ^ 3 5 
 
 Letter 
 
 XX. A mythological Genealogy ofT aste. 
 Contemplation was the Daugh- 
 ter of Jupiter, (who fprung from 
 his Brain , like Pallas) by whom 
 Apollo had a Son named Eudoxus 
 [i. e> true Knowledge ] who begot 
 Calocagathia } or Taste, on one 
 of the Graces, 
 
 (< ' v i 
 
LETTERS 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 To EUPHEMIUS. 
 
 W HENCE comes it, Euphe- 
 mius, that you, who are feel- 
 ingly alive to each fine Senfa- 
 tion that Beauty or Harmony gives the 
 Soul, thould fo often affert, contrary to 
 what you daily experience, that Taste 
 is govern’d by Caprice, and that Beauty 
 is reducible to no Criterion ? I am afraid 
 your Generofity in this Inftance is greater 
 than your Sincerity, and that you are wil- 
 
 B hng 
 
2 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 ling to compliment the circle of your 
 Friends, in giving up by this Conceflion 
 that envied Superiority you might claim 
 over them, fhould it be acknowledg’d 
 that thofe uncommon Emotions of Plea- 
 fure, which arife in your Bread: upon the 
 Obfervation of moral or natural Elegance, 
 were caufed by a more ready and intimate 
 Perception of thatuniverfal Truth, which 
 the all-perfeCt Creator of this harmo- 
 nious Syftem ordain’d to be the Venus 
 of every ObjeCt, whether in the Material 
 World ; in the imitative Arts j or in 
 living Characters and Manners. How ir- 
 reconcilable are your DoCtrines to the 
 Example you afford us ! However, fince 
 you prefs me to juffify your Practice a- 
 gainfl your Declarations, by giving a De- 
 finition of what is meant by Taste, I 
 fhall not avoid the invidious Office of 
 pointing out your fuperior Excellence to 
 others, by proving that Truth and Beau- 
 ty are coincident, and that the warmed 
 Admirers of thefe Celestial Twins, 
 have confequently Souls more nearly allied 
 
 to 
 
LETTER L 
 
 3 
 
 to stherial Spirits of a higher Order. A 
 good Taste is that inftantaneous Glow 
 of Pleafure which thrills thro’ our whole 
 Frame, and feizes upon the Applaufe of 
 the Heart, before the intellectual Power, 
 Reafon, can defcend from the Throne of 
 the Mind to ratify it’s Approbation, ei- 
 ther when we receive into the Soul beau- 
 tiful Images thro’ the Organs of bodily 
 Senfes ; or the Decorum of an amiable 
 Character thro* the Faculties of moral 
 Perception ; or when we recall, by the 
 imitative Arts, both of 'em thro' the in- 
 termediate Power of the Imagination. 
 Nor is this delightful and immediate Sen- 
 fation to be excited in an undiftemper’d 
 Soul, but by a Chain of Truths, dependent 
 upon one another till they terminate in the 
 Source of all Perfection, the Divine Archi- 
 tect of the whole. Let us caft our Eyes 
 firft upon the Objedts of the Material 
 World. A rural Profpect upon the very 
 firft Glance yields a grateful Emotion in 
 the Rreaft, when in a Variety of Scenes 
 there arifes from the whole one Order, 
 B 2 whofe 
 
4 L E T T E R I. 
 whofe different Parts will be found, by 
 the critical Eye of Contemplation, to re- 
 late mutually to one another, and each 
 examin’d apart, to be productive of the 
 Neceflaries, the Conveniencies, and Emo- 
 luments of Life. Suppofe you was to be- 
 hold from an Eminence, thro’ a fmall 
 range of Mountains cover’d with Woods, 
 feveral little Streams gufhing out of Rocks, 
 fome gently tinkling over Pebbles ; others 
 tumbling from a Precipice, and a few glid- 
 ing gently in Willow-fhaded Rivulets 
 thro’ green Meadows, till their tributary 
 Waters are all collected by fome River 
 God of a larger Urn ; who at fome few 
 Miles diftance is loft in the Ocean, which 
 heaves it’s broad Bofom to the Sight, and 
 ends the ProfpeCt with an immenfe Ex- 
 pan fe of Waters. Tell me, Euphemius, 
 would not fuch a Scene captivate the 
 Heart even before the Intellectual Powers 
 difcover Minerals in the Mountains; fu- 
 ture Navies in the Woods; Civil and Mi- 
 litary Architecture in the Rocks; healing 
 Qualities in the fmaller Streams ; Fertility, 
 
 that 
 
LETTER I, 5 
 that the larger Waters diftribute along 
 their ferpentifing Banks ; Herbage for Cat- 
 tle in the Meadows ; and laftly, the more 
 eafy Opportunities the River affords us to 
 convey to other Climates the Superfluities 
 of our own, for which the Ocean brings 
 us back in Exchange what we ftand in 
 need of from theirs. Now to heighten 
 this beautiful Landfcape, let us throw in 
 Corn Fields, here and there a Country 
 Seat, and, at proper Diftances, fmali 
 Hamlets, together with Spires and Towers, 
 as Milton defcribes 'em, 
 
 “ bofom’d high in tufted Trees.” 
 
 Does not an additional Rapture flow in 
 from this Adjundt, of which Reafon will 
 afterwards difcover the latent Caufe in the 
 fame manner as before. Your favorite 
 Architecture will not fail to afford lefs re- 
 markable Inftances, that Truth, Beauty, 
 and Utility are infeparable. You very 
 well know that every Rule, Canon, and 
 Proportion in building did not arife from 
 the capricious Invention of Man, but from 
 the unerring Dictates of Nature, and that 
 B 3 even 
 
6 LETTER I. 
 even what are now the ornamental Parts 
 of an Edifice, originally were created by 
 Neceffity ; and are ftill difpleafing to the 
 Sight, when they are difobedient, if I may 
 ufe that moral Exprefllon, to the Order, 
 which Nature, whofe Laws cannot be re- 
 pealed, firft gave to fupply that Neceffity, 
 Here I appeal to your own Bread: • and let 
 me continue the Appeal by aiking you 
 concerning another Science analogous to 
 this, which is founded upon as invariable 
 Principles : I mean the Science of living 
 well, in which you are as happily learned 
 as in the former. Say then, has not every 
 amiable Character, with which you have 
 been enamour’d, been prov’d by a cool 
 Examination to contain a beautijul Pro- 
 portion, in the Point it was placed in, re- 
 lative to Society ? And what is it that con- 
 ftitutes Moral Deformity, or what we call 
 Vice, but the Difproportion which any 
 Agent occafions, in the Fabric of Civil 
 [Community, by a Non-compliance to the 
 general Order which fhould prevail in it ? 
 
 As 
 
LETTER I. 7 
 
 As the Arts of Painting, Sculpture, and 
 Poetry are imitative of thefe, their Excel- 
 lence, as Aristotle obferves, confifls in 
 Faithfulnefs to their Original : nor have 
 they any primary Beauty in themfelves, 
 but derive their fhadowy Exigence in a 
 mimetic Tranfcript from Objects in the 
 Material World, or from Paffions, Cha- 
 racters, and Manners. Neverthelefs that 
 internal Senfe we call Taste (which is a 
 Herald for the whole human Syflem, in 
 it’s three different Parts, the refin’d Fa- 
 culties of Perception, the grofs Organs of 
 Senfe, and the intermediate Powers of 
 Imagination) has as quick a Feeling of 
 this fecondary Excellence of the Arts, as 
 for the primary Graces ; and feizes the 
 Heart with Rapture long before the Senfes, 
 and Reafon in Conjunction, ca n. prove this 
 Beauty by collating the Imitations with 
 their Originals. 
 
 If it fhould be afked why external Ob- 
 jects affeCt the human Bread: in this Man- 
 ner, I would anfvver, that the Almighty 
 has in this, as well as in all his other 
 B 4 Works, 
 
LETTER I. 
 
 Works, out of his abundant Goodnefs and 
 Love to his Creatures, fo attun'd our 
 Minds to Truth, that all Beauty from 
 without fhould make a refponfive Har- 
 mony vibrate within. But fhould any of 
 thofe more curious Gentlemen, who bufy 
 themfelves with Enquiries into Matters, 
 which the Deity, for Reafons known only 
 to himfelf, has plac'd above our limited 
 Capacities, demand how he has fo form’d 
 us, I fhould refer them, with proper Con- 
 tempt, to their more aged Brethren, who 
 may juflly in Derifion be ftil’d the Philo - 
 fophers of ultimate Caufes . To you, my 
 dear Friend, whofe truly philofophical 
 and religious Tafte concludes that what- 
 ever God ordains is right, it is fuffi- 
 cient to have prov’d that Truth is the 
 Caufe of all Beauty , and that T ruth flows 
 from the Fountain of all Perfection, in 
 whofe unfathomable Depth finite Thought 
 fhould never venture with any other In- 
 tention than to wonder and adore. But I 
 find I have been imperceptibly led on 
 from Thought to Thought, not only to 
 
 trefpafs 
 
LETTER I. 9 
 
 trefpafs upon the common Stile of a Let- 
 ter, by thefe abftrufe Reafonings and re- 
 ligious Conciufions, but upon the ordi- 
 nary length of one likewife ; therefore (hall 
 conclude by complimenting my own Fade 
 in Characters, when I affine you that I 
 am, 
 
 Tour mofl affectionate Friend , &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 10 ] 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 I T gave me no fmall Pleafure to find, by 
 your Anfwer to my laft Letter, that 
 you now allow Beauty to be the Daugh- 
 ter of Truth ; and I in my turn will 
 make a Conceffion to you, by confefling 
 that Beauty herfelf may have acquir'd 
 Charms, but then they are altogether fuch 
 as are confiftent with her divine Extrac- 
 tion. What you obferve is very true, 
 that the human Form, (the moft glorious 
 Object, as you are pleas’d to call it, in the 
 Creation) let it be made with the moft 
 accurate Symmetry and Proportion, may 
 receive additional Charms from Educa- 
 X tion, and fteal more fubtily upon the Soul 
 of the Beholder from fome adventitious 
 Circumftances of eafy Attitudes or Motion, 
 and an undefineable Sweetnefs of Counte- 
 nance, which an habitual Commerce with 
 the more refin’d Part of Mankind fuper- 
 adds to the Work of Nature. This the 
 
 antient 
 
II 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 antient Grecian Artifts would have repre- 
 fented mythologically in Painting by the 
 Graces crowning Venus. We find how 
 much Lely has availed himfelf in his 
 fhadowy Creations of tranfcribing from 
 Life this adventitious Charm into all his 
 Portraits. I mean, when he Jiole upon 
 his animated Canvas , as Pope poetically 
 exprefies it, 
 
 “ The fleepy Eye that {poke the melting Soul.” 
 
 You will a£k me perhaps how I can 
 prove any Alliance in this particular Cir- 
 cumftance of a fingle Feature to Truth ? 
 Or rather triumphantly pufh the Argu- 
 ment farther and fay, Is not this additional 
 Charm, as you call it, inconfiftent with 
 the Divine Original of Beauty, fince it 
 deadens the fiery Luflre of that penetrat- 
 ing Organ r I chufe to draw my Anfwer 
 from the Schools of the antient Etho- 
 graph i, who by their enchanting Art fo 
 happily convey’d, thro’ the Sight, the 
 Leflons of Moral Philofophy. Thefe 
 Sages would have told you, that our Souls 
 
 are 
 
12 
 
 LETTER II. 
 are attun’d to one another, like the Strings 
 of mufical Inftruments, and that the Chord 
 of one being ftruck, the Unifon of another, 
 tho* untouch'd, will vibrate to it. The 
 Paffions therefore of the human Heart, 
 exprefs’d either in the living Countenance 
 or the mimetic Strokes of Art, will affeCt 
 the Soul of the Beholder with a fimilar 
 and refponfive Difpofition. What won- 
 der then is it that Beauty, borrowing thus 
 the Look of foftening Love, whofe Power 
 can lull the mofl watchful of the Senfes, 
 fhould caft that fweet Nepenthe upon our 
 Hearts, and enchant our correfponding 
 Thoughts to reft in the Embraces of De- 
 ft re ? Sure then I am, that you will al- 
 ways allow Love to be the Source and 
 End of our Being, and confequently con- 
 fident with Truth. It is the Superaddi- 
 tion of fuch Charms to Proportion, which 
 is called Tafte in Mufick, Painting, 
 Poetry, Sculpture, Gardening and Archi- 
 tecture. By which is generally meant 
 that happy Aflemblage which excites in 
 our Minds, by Analogy, fome pleafurable 
 
 Image. 
 
LETTER II. 13 
 Image. Thus, for Inftance, even the 
 Ruins of an old Caftle properly difpos’d, 
 or the Simplicity of a rough-hewn Her- 
 mitage in a Rock, enliven a Profpedt, by 
 recalling the Moral Images of Valor and 
 Wifdom ; and I believe no Man will con- 
 tend, that Valor exerted in the Defence of 
 one’s Country, or Wifdom contemplating 
 in Retirement for the Welfare of Man- 
 kind, are not truly amiable Images, be- 
 longing to the Divine Family of Truth. 
 I think I have now reconcil’d our two fa- 
 vorite Opinions, by proving that thefe ad- 
 ditional Charms, if they muft be called 
 fo, have their Origin in Nature as much 
 as Proportion itfelf. — I am very glad the 
 Prints I fent afforded you fo much Plea- 
 fure, not only as I wifh every thing which 
 comes from me may be favorably re- 
 ceiv’d by you, but as they are likewife a 
 Confirmation of my Arguments ; for the 
 Man who drew them is no very great 
 Artift, but being a faithful Difciple 
 of Nature, having delineated every Objed: 
 in a Camera Objcura , he has not fail’d of 
 
 gaining 
 
i 4 LETTER II. 
 
 gaining the uncontefted Applaufe, which 
 the Followers of that unerring Miftrefs 
 will ever receive from Mankind. My 
 Eudocia calls me to adminifter with her 
 Comfort to a little fatherlefs Family in the 
 Diftridt of our Hamlet, therefore mu ft 
 conclude myfelf, 
 
 Tour Jincere Friend \ &c 5 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 1 
 
 letter III. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 O U have often heard me make true 
 
 Conjedures concerning a Man’s 
 Tafte in Morals, from the Choice of his 
 Pidures or the Difpofition of his Gardens. 
 This you at firft thought a little whimfical, 
 till repeated Obfervation and Experience 
 confirm’d, what I advanc’d in a former 
 Letter to you, that the fame internal Senfe 
 taftes for the three different Powers in hu- 
 man Nature; and from hence arifes that 
 Correfpondence betwixt the Senfe s , Ima- 
 gination, and Underjlanding of the fame 
 Perfon. I had once an Opportunity of 
 obferving, in fome little Excurfions I 
 made a few Years ago, from a celebrated 
 Place in the North of England, with a 
 mix’d Company, how varioufly the diffe- 
 rent Places we faw affeded every Man in 
 onr Party according to the natural Turn of 
 his Temper. We had among us an 
 
 Inamorato, 
 
i6 LETTER III. 
 
 Inamorato, much given to reading Ro- 
 mances, who dwelt with uncommon Rap- 
 ture on a little rural Place call’d H - , 
 
 where, it is faid, the famous Sir Ph ilip 
 Sidney compos’d his Arcadia . Here 
 Enthufiafm feiz’d our romantic Lover, 
 whilft the reft of our Company felt only 
 the calm Senfation of Pleafure. Nor was 
 it long before it came in my turn to be not 
 touch'd but rapt , and to feel that setherial 
 Glow of Admiration, at the Sight of a 
 neighbouring Villa to Scarborough. 
 You know I love the Comforts of dome- 
 fticLife and the Charms of Contemplation 
 in Retirement; and rather would enjoy 
 the Heart-ennobling Tranfport which the 
 Difcovery of any thing beneficial to Man- 
 kind, or one charitable Adtion could give 
 me, than the Juppos'd Glories which all 
 the Royal Robbers of the World ever 
 plunder’d from their Species. From this 
 Temper of Mind, mix’d with an Admira- 
 tion of antient Manners and antient My- 
 thology, you will not wonder that a 
 Place, which anfwers in Miniature to 
 
 ^Elian’s 
 
LETTER III. 17 
 
 ^Elian’s ravifhing Defcription ofTEMPE, 
 fhould thus warmly affed me. The Place 
 
 I mean is called E Lodge. It is a 
 
 fmall convenient Houfe, built in the Luf- 
 can Order, at the foot of two little Hills* 
 covered with Woods and flowering Shrubs, 
 which for a confiderable Way attend the 
 ferpentizing Gourfe of a dear cool Rivu- 
 let ; as if they meant to fhade and proted 
 with their Branches the Stream which 
 runs in the Valley betwixt 'em. I could 
 not refrain from burfting forth, in a kind 
 of poetical Extacy* in the Words of our 
 admired Poet* 
 
 “ Where gliding thro’ his Daughter’s honor’d Shades* 
 “ The fmooth Peneus from his glafiy Flood 
 et Reflects purpureal Tempe' s pleafant Scene. 
 
 “ Fair Temper Haunt belov’d of Sylvan Powers, 
 
 •* Of Nymphs, and Fauns, where in the golden Age 
 f< They play’d in fecret on the lhady Bank 
 “ With ancient Pan: while round their choral Steps 
 “ Young Hours and genial Gales with conftant Hand* 
 ts Show’r’d Odors, Bloffoms, ftiowYd ambrofial Dews* 
 “ And Spring's Elyftan Bloom. * 
 
 C Believe 
 
 * /fkhifidp s Pleafures of Imagination, Book I, 
 
i8 LETTER III. 
 
 Believe me, Euphemius, the ancient Co- 
 rybantes , when they heard the facred 
 Flutes in their religious Myfteries, could 
 not feel or exprefs more Rapture than I 
 did. Retrofpedlion had carried me on 
 the Wings of Imagination two thoufand 
 Years back, and had plac’d me in the de- 
 lightful Regions of Thejfaly I know the 
 
 fympathizing 
 
 J I dare fay the Reader will not be difpleafed to 
 have ^Elian’s Befcription of ancient Tempe, which the 
 Author mentions above, laid before him in the elegant 
 Tranflation of that ingenious Gentleman, who favour’d 
 the Public a few Years ago with an Englijh Commentary 
 and Notes on Hor ace’s Epiftle to Augufus, and a Difcourje 
 on Poetical Imitation. “ The Ehejfalian Tempe is a Place, 
 6i fituate between Olympus and OJfa\ which are Moun- 
 “ tains of an exceeding great Height; and look, as if 
 “ they had once been joined, but were afterwards fe- 
 “ parated from each other, by fome God, for the fake 
 Ks of opening in the midft that large Plain, which ftretches 
 66 in Length to about five Miles, and in Breadth, a hundred 
 “ Paces, or, in fome Parts more. Thro’ the middle of 
 “ this Plain runs the Peneus , into which feveral lefler Cur- 
 “ rents empty themfelves, and, by the Confluence of 
 <£ their Waters, fwell into a River of great Size. This 
 “ Vale is abundantly furnilh’d with all manner of Arbors 
 <l and refling Places ; not fuch as the Arts of human In- 
 “ duflry contrive, but with the Bounty of fpontaneous 
 e< Nature; ambitious, as ft were, to make a Shew of all 
 iC her Beauties, provided for the Supply of this fair Refi- 
 “ dence, in the very original Structure and Formation of 
 “ the Place. For there is plenty of Ivy fnooting forth in 
 “ it, which flourifhes and grows fo thick, that, like the 
 4< generous and leafy Vine, it crawls up the trunks of 
 
 tall 
 
LETTER II L 19 
 
 fympathizing Warmth of your Imagina- 
 tion, therefore fhall leave you to fancy the 
 reft for me. However fuch were my 
 Expreffions of Pleafure upon the Occa^ 
 fion, that feveral of our Company, who 
 C 2 had 
 
 ic tall Trees, and twitting it's Foliage round their Arms 
 £C and Branches, becomes almott incorporated with them. 
 ££ The flowering Smilax alfo is there in great Abun- 
 ££ dance ; which running up the Acclivities of the Hills, 
 ct and fpreading the ciofeTexture of it’s Leaves and Ten* 
 “ drils on all Sides, perfectly covers and {hades them ; fo 
 ££ that no part of the bare Rock is feen ; but the whole is 
 ££ hung with the Verdure of a thick, interwoven Herb- 
 “ age, prefenting the mott agreeable Spe&acle to the 
 “ Eye. -Along the level of the Plain, there are fre- 
 44 quent Tufts of Trees, and long continued Ranges 
 <£ of arching Bowers, affording the mott grateful Shel- 
 <£ ter from the Heats of Summer ; which are fur- 
 £C ther relieved by the frequent Streams of clear and 
 ££ frefli Water, continually winding through it. The 
 “ Tradition goes that thefe Waters are peculiarly good for 
 ££ Bathing, and have many other Medicinal Virtues. la 
 fi£ the Thickets and Buflies of this Dale, are numberlefs 
 €t Singing Birds every where fluttering about, whofe 
 ££ Warblings take the Ear of Paflengers, and cheat the 
 ££ Labours of their Way through it. On the Banks of 
 <£ the Peneus, on either Side, are difperfed irregularly, 
 “ thole rejiing Places , before fpoken of ; while the River 
 “ itfelf glides through the middle of the Lawn, with a 
 *« foft and quiet courfe ; Overhung with the Shades of 
 “ Trees, planted on it’s Borders, whofe intermingled 
 “ Branches keep off the Sun, and furnifh the Opportu- 
 ,£ nity of a cool and temperate Navigation upon it. The 
 “ Worfhip of the Gods, and the perpetual Fragi’ancy of 
 “ Sacrifices and burning Odors, further confecrate the 
 ££ Place, fsV. [V T ar. Hitt. lib, 3. cap, ij 
 
20 
 
 LETTER III, 
 
 had not an XJniJon of Soul, began to re- 
 gard my Enthufiafm with a cool air of 
 Derifion. The next Day’s Journey how- 
 ever afforded me an Opportunity of mak- 
 ing Reprifals, and to pity many of our 
 Party for the joyful Aftonifhment with 
 which they were ftruck by the aukward 
 Magnificence of unmeaning Grandeur. 
 You know the many among Mankind 
 are affedled only by prodigious Adlions 
 and Deeds of Heroism in the Moral 
 World, and, according to my Obferva- 
 tion, have confequently a correfpondent 
 Relifh for the Great and Wonderful in 
 the Phyfical • AlexAxNder, Caesar, and 
 Pyrrhus are their ador’d Images in the 
 one 3 and Cajiles y JVlaufoleunis , Pyramids y 
 Mountains, immenfe Plains, and Cata- 
 racts in the other. How natural then 
 was it for thofe who could pafs over the 
 Paradife of our Englijh Tempe without 
 Emotion, to gape their filent Wonder at 
 II— Caftle ! I defire you would minute- 
 ly obferve, the next time you take a mix- 
 ed Company into your elegant Colledion 
 
 of 
 
of Pictures, and read their Charadters by 
 the choice of their Pieces. The Revenge- 
 ful will find great Excellence in your 
 Apollo fleaingthe unfortunate Mars y as j 
 the Man, who is fubjedt to be difcom- 
 pos’d by violent Paflions, will feledt out 
 one of Vandervelf s Storms to amufe him- 
 fe!f with ; and the Eyes of thofe, who 
 are ennobled by filial Piety and the de- 
 lightful Sympathy of Pity, will drop a 
 Tear of Pleafure over your Roman Cha- 
 rity.— If the Weather will permit I pro- 
 pofe to be with you at — —next Month, 
 but wherever I am, you will always be 
 prefent with me. Adieu, my dear Eu- 
 phemius, and do me the Juftice to think, 
 
 I am, 
 
 Tour moft fine ere Friend , &c. 
 
[ 22 ] 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 To the Same, 
 
 I NDEED, Euphemius, the Com*- 
 pliments you are pleas’d to pay me 
 upon the Obfervations I made in my lafl 
 Letter to you concerning Analogy, would 
 not fail to enflame my Vanity, did not I 
 very well know that you view every thing, 
 which comes from me, through the mag^ 
 pitying Medium of Friendfhip. This Re- 
 flection, ’tis true, leffens the Satisfaction 
 which would flow from a Confcioufnefs 
 of Merit, but at the fame time augments 
 my Happinefs another Way, by inform- 
 ing my Heart how deep an Intereft I 
 have in yours. You tell me that upon 
 Recollection, you know of no living Ar- 
 tift whofe Life does not greatly correfpond 
 to his Performances ; and that you have 
 read of very few of the Dead, whofe 
 Works do not fhadow forth, by this Ana- 
 logy, the general Caft of their Moral 
 
 Con- 
 
LETTER IV. 23 
 Conduct J. Homer, we are told by 
 the very ingenious and learned Author 
 of his Life, had perfonally accompanied 
 his Fancy wherever ihe rov’d upon the 
 Face of the Earth, and I make no Doubt 
 fuch was the reftlefs Addvity of his Soul, 
 that he ardently wifh’d to fpurn this dull 
 Globe, and foar to the Seats of his Im- 
 mortals. To contrail his Character, we 
 need only caft our Eyes on his poetical 
 Difciple Virgil, whofe modeil Majeily 
 in private Life bore fo great a Refem- 
 blance to all his Compofitions. But Monk 
 de Piles, the ingenious Author of the 
 Lives of the Painters, will furniih us with 
 fome remarkable Examples to this Pur- 
 pofe. I dare fay you have often obferv’d, 
 that feveral Pieces of Michael Ange- 
 lo’s, which you have feen in Italy, 
 tho’ finiih’d in a grand gout , and with a 
 C 4 vaft 
 
 % Voltaire has the following remarkable Paflage 
 concerning the Character and Wricings of the Cardinal^ 
 Retz. Cet homme fmgulier s’eft peint lui-meme dans 
 fes memoires, ecrits avec un airde grandeur, uneimpetu- 
 ofite de genie, et une inegalite, qui font lTmage de fa 
 conduite. Dans le fiede de Louis XIV. vol. i.p.61. 
 
24 LETTER IV. 
 
 vaft Extent of Genius, want that Purity, 
 Softnefs, and Elegance, which afford fo 
 much Pleafure in the Works of feveral 
 much inferior Painters. There is a Fierce- 
 nefs in the Looks, and a Wildnefs in the 
 Attitudes of all his Figures, which, tho* 
 they are indeed correct, and agreeable to 
 Nature in fome Moods, and cannot be 
 condemned by the Judgment, are by no 
 Means agreeable to the Eye 5 and tho’ they 
 fully fatisfy the Unaerftanding, never cap- 
 tivate the Heart.— You might obferve at 
 the fame time, on the contrary, that Ra- 
 phael’s, for want of the Ufe of the 
 Chiaro Ofcuro , had not that Prominency, 
 nor feem’d to come out from the Canvafs 
 fo boldly as thofe of his Rival ; that he 
 was rather deficient in Colouring, and pre- 
 fer v’d too great a Samenefs in the Drapery 
 of all his Figures^ yet neverthelefs blend- 
 ing the Elegance of the Antique and the 
 Simplicity of Nature together, and fpread- 
 ing that undefineable Grace , which was 
 fo' bounteoufly beftow’d upon him, over 
 every Piece, he feizes at once upon the 
 
 warm 
 
LETTER IV. 
 
 25 
 
 warm Applaufe of the Heart by an irre- 
 fiftible Force, and the Judgment fearfully 
 fufpends the Exercife of her Faculties 
 over the feeming Deficiencies at a di- 
 ftance, as if each Stroke was the imme- 
 diate Infpiration of Heaven, and there 
 was nothing left for the human Mind to 
 do, but to wonder and adore. Now if 
 we look into the Lives of thefe two emi- 
 nent Painters, we (ball obferve in them a 
 correfponding Similarity to the different 
 Defe&s and Excellencies in their refpec- 
 tive Performances. The firft, Michael 
 Angelo, lived in the mofl reclufe man- 
 ner, was ftri£t even to the greateft Seve- 
 rity in his Morals, and gave himfelf en- 
 tirely up to the Cultivation of the Arts he 
 profefs’d. Notwithflanding, all his Ac- 
 tions were blamelefs, nay rather com- 
 mendable, when examin’d only by the 
 Rules of Moral Rectitude ; yet wanting 
 that Eafe and gentle Deportment, which 
 an habitual Intercourfe with Mankind 
 imperceptibly gives us, he was fo diff 
 pleafing in Converfation that he was 
 
 avoided 
 
26 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 avoided at laft by every Acquaintance; and, 
 whilft Raphael's Houfe was crowded 
 with Friends and Difciples, the World 
 willingly left him to the Enjoyment of 
 his belov’d Solitude. Raphael, on the 
 contrary, was a Man of the World, vio- 
 lently addifted by his Conftitution to Plea- 
 fure, but more particularly to the Love of 
 Women, infomuch that having, we are 
 told, one Day abandon'd himfelf to the 
 Enjoyment of feveral, he was taken ill of 
 a burning Fever, and, concealing the 
 Caufe of his Diftemper from the Phy- 
 ficians, he was carried off in the thirty- 
 feventh Year of his Age, to the unfpeak- 
 able Grief of all who knew the Man, or 
 admir’d the Artift. Notwithftanding thefe 
 human Infirmities, he poffefs’d fuch a na- 
 tural and acquir’d Sweetnefs of Temper, 
 and Complacency in Behaviour, fo Ana- 
 logous jj to that undefineable Grace in his 
 
 Painting, 
 
 |j The dark gloomy Colouring we find in the Pieces of 
 the Bajfans , arofe from the Horror of their diftemper'd 
 Imaginations, 
 
 — 'c- “ That 
 
LETTER IV. 2 7 
 
 Painting, that he was univerfally belov’d 
 by all who knew him, and the fevered: 
 Moralift was charm'd with his Conven- 
 tion tho’ he condemn’d his Condudt *. I 
 cannot help obferving in this place, and 
 I hope it is not foreign to the Subjed:, 
 that frequent Converfation with Women 
 harmonizes the Souls of Men, and gives 
 ’em that enchanting Grace, which has fo 
 often delighted us both in the Addrefs of 
 feveral of our Acquaintance, not very 
 eminent for their Virtues or Underftand- 
 ing. I am of Opinion, it was this con- 
 
 ftant Idea of Delicacy and Softnefs, col- 
 lected 
 
 “ That Turly Spirit Melancholy 
 
 “ Had bak’d their Blood and made it heavy thick.” 
 
 Shakefpear's K. John. 
 
 Therefore they made choice of fuch Objects to paint, as 
 were refponfive to the internal Shade in their Minds, par- 
 ticularly Night-Pieces, where their Souls poured forth 
 their unconftrain’d Difpofitions upon the Canvafs, and in- 
 dulged in beloved Darknefs. Whenever they were, 
 agamft their Choice, employ’d upon other Subjects, the 
 ftrong Shades lower’d upon every Landfcape, and even 
 the chearful Light of the Sun itfelf was greatly obfcur’d 
 by Geniufes which naturally delighted in his Abfence. 
 
 * in the two Characters of Michael Angelo, and 
 Raphael, this Obfervation of Quintilian's was verify ’d. 
 In quibuidam virtutes non habent gratiam, in quibufdam 
 vitja ipfa dele&ant. Lib. II. cap, 3. 
 
28 LETTER IV. 
 leded from &n habitual Intercourfe with 
 thefe fair Polifhers of our Sex? and united 
 into one complicated Form of Beauty, 
 which, playing perpetually in the Soul of 
 Raphael, diffus’d itfelf thro’ his Pencil 
 over all his Works ; and thro’ his Looks, 
 Deportment, and Tongue, over all his 
 Words and Actions. Such, by the Ap- 
 pointment of Heaven, has ever been, and 
 ever will be the Power of thefe amiable 
 Creatures ! — -I have fo much Vanity to 
 think you will read the latter part of this 
 Letter to Amelia, that every one^ who 
 efteems you, may in a great meafure 
 hereafter feem to pay her a kind of an in- 
 dited; Compliment. She has often told 
 me, you know, that I am one of the 
 loyaleft Subjeds the Sex ever had, and, 
 I dare fay, w r i!l not be difpleas’d with this 
 frefh Proclamation of their Dominion. 
 You may add farther, that I think Wo- 
 men are the Fountains from whence flow 
 the blended Streams of Tafle and Plea- 
 fure, and that the Draught of Life is more 
 or lefs fweet as they are mingled in the 
 Cup. Adieu. LET- 
 
[ 2 9 1 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 OU feem to think, Euphemxus, 
 
 that I contradicted in Convention 
 the other Day, in a great meafure what 
 I advanc’d in a former Letter to you, by 
 allowing Cronophilus to be a Man of a 
 ftrong Understanding and great Erudition, 
 and yet at the fame time aiTerting he had 
 little or no Tajle. But according to my 
 Obfervation, what I wrote, and what I 
 faid, are very reconcileable. For Tajle 
 does not wholly depend upon the natural 
 Strength and acquir’d Improvement of 
 the Intellectual Powers ; nor wholly up- 
 on a fine ConftruCtion of the Organs 
 of the Body ; nor wholly upon the in- 
 termediate Powers of the Imagination ; 
 but upon a Union of them all hap- 
 pily blended, without too great a Preva- 
 lency in either. Hence it falls out, that 
 one Man may be a very great Reafoner ; 
 another have the fined Genius for Poe- 
 
 try s 
 
30 LETTER V. 
 try ; and a third be blefs’d with the moft 
 delicate Organs of Senfe $ and yet every 
 one of thefe be deficient in that internal 
 Senfation called Tajle. On the contrary, 
 a fourth, in whofe Frame indulgent Na- 
 ture has twifted his triple Cord y fhall 
 feel it conftantly vibrate within, when- 
 ever the fame Unifon of Harmony is 
 ftruck from without 3 either in the origi- 
 nal Works of Nature ; in the mimetic 
 Arts ; or in Characters and Manners. 
 That worthy Man, and amiable Writer, 
 Mr. Addison, was no gmz/Scholarj he was 
 a very indifferentCritic, and a worfePoet; 
 yet from the happy Mixture, juft men- 
 tion’d, he was blefs’d with a Tafte truly 
 delicate and refin’d. This render’d him 
 capable of diftinguifhing what were Beau- 
 ties in the Works of others, tho’ he could 
 not account fo well why they were fo r 
 for want of that deep Philofophical Spi- 
 rit which is requifite in Works of Cri- 
 ticiftn. He likewife tranflated the Poetical 
 Defcriptions of Ovid very elegantly and 
 faithfully into his own Language, tho’ 
 
 he 
 
LETTER V. s j 
 
 lie fell infinitely fliort of ’em in his own 
 original Compofitions, for want of that 
 unconjiram d Fire of Imagination which 
 conflitutes the true Poet. Hence we may X 
 be enabled to account for that peculiar Fa- 
 tality which attends Mr. Addison’s poeti- 
 cal Writings, that his Tranflations feem Ori- 
 ginals, whilft his own Competitions have 
 the confined Air of Tranflations. Nor 
 think I exemplify too far by obferving, 
 that your Friend Pope was a better Tran- 
 flator than he was a Poet. Many In- 
 fiances might be produc’d from his Tran- 
 flation of the Iliad to prove the Truth 
 of this. Aflertion. One I will particu- 
 larly mention, which is the fublime 
 Defcription of Neptune in the 13th 
 Book. 
 
 “ In Samothracia on a Mountain’s Brow, 
 
 “ Whole waving Woods o’er-hungthe Deeps below, 
 
 “ He fate ; and round him call his Azure Eyes 
 “ Where Ida s mifty Tops confus’dly rife ; 
 rf Beneath fair Ilions glitt’ring Spires were feen; 
 t( The crouded Ships, and fable Seas between. 
 
 “ There from the cryftal Chambers of the Main 
 “ Engorg’d he fate; and mourn’d his Arrives flain. 
 
 At 
 
 2 
 
32 L E T T E R V. 
 
 “ At Jove incens’d with Grief and Fury flung, 
 
 “ Prone down the fteepy Rock he pour’d along, 
 
 “ Fierce as he pafs’d the lofty Mountains nod, 
 
 “ The Forefts fliake. Earth trembled as he trod, 
 
 “ And felt the Footfteps of th’ immortal God.” 
 
 I chofe to feledt this Paffage in Pre- 
 ference to any other, as the Origina 1 is a 
 favorite one with Longinus, who had 
 the moft tafte of all the ancient Critics. In 
 my Opinion the Tranflation is not at all 
 inferior to the Original. From which you 
 may infer that I do not degrade Mr. 
 Pope, tho’ I fay he is a better Tranfla- 
 tor than he is a Poet. — -I have this Morn- 
 ing read over the Latin Poem you fent 
 me, which gave me no fmall Entertain- 
 ment. The Author has fhew’d his Tafte 
 and command of the Stile of Lu- 
 cretius, Horace, and Virgil, but 
 more particularly of the former, all which 
 he has elegantly blended, or, as his Subject 
 occafionally requir'd, us’d feparately. I 
 thank you like wife for the two Tranfla- 
 tions of the fame Poem, tho’ I mu ft con- 
 fefs they did not give me equal Satisfac- 
 
 lion. 
 
L E T T E R V. 33 
 
 tion, if any at all. If the two Gentle- 
 men, who have charitably undertaken to 
 do it into Englifh, for the Benefit of thofe 
 who don’t underfland the Original, had 
 poffefs’d T'afle or even common Judg- 
 ment enough, to have diftinguifh’d that 
 the chief Merit of that Poem confifts in 
 the Language of it, they would have 
 fpent their Time much better by a more 
 proper Application of their refpedtive 
 Talents, which have defer vedly rais’d 
 both their Characters, not only in their 
 different Profeffions, but in the World of 
 Letters. Mr. — — — - writes me word he 
 has a Letter by him from Count Maffei 
 concerning Voltaire’s, and Hill’s 
 Merope, which I want much to fee. 
 When you write next pray tell me whe- 
 ther the little Group of Figures, I invented 
 for you, is yet executed in baffo relievo 
 by our favourite Artift Gosset. Adieu, 
 
 D 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 34 ) 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 I Find,EuPHEMius 5 you don’t thoroughly 
 concur with me in a Remark I made 
 in my laft Letter, that “ Addison 
 was an indifferent Critic, and a worfe 
 <£ Poet.” But however extenfive my Re- 
 gard to the Memory of that great and 
 good Man may be, and however inimi- 
 table and certainly juftly admir’d he ever 
 will be as a Profe Writer, for thofe mor&l 
 and humourous Effays, but more particu- 
 larly thofe delightful Allegories his Mufe 
 Clio has left us; yet true Criticifm will 
 never allow him to be at the Head even 
 of the fecond Clafs of our Englijh Poets. 
 You anfwer that there are feveral Paffages 
 in fome of his Poetical Compofitions^ 
 which breathe a Spirit of Genius equal to 
 any thing extant, either among the Mo- 
 derns or Ancients ; and at the fame time, 
 point out the famous Simile of the Angel 
 'i of 
 
LETTER VI. 
 
 35 
 
 of Deftrudion, if I may fo call it, in 
 the Campaign ; and another at the Con- 
 clufion of the firft Ad of Cato . Now tho 5 
 feleding particular Paffages from a Poet 
 is not a certain Method, nor a fair one, 
 of forming a proper Eftimate of his ge- 
 neral Excellence, yet as you fo ftrongly 
 urge thefe two, with an Air of Triumph, 
 to be the Infpiration of Caftalian Streams, 
 I mu ft defire you to examine them with me 
 critically Line by Line, and I dare fay 
 you’ll own, that both betray a great Po- 
 verty of Imagination by an infipid Repe- 
 tition of one Thought in different Ex- 
 prefiions. To begin then with the cele- 
 brated Simile in the Campaign , which, for 
 half a Century, has been undiftinguifhingly 
 admired. 
 
 €C So when an Angel by Divine Command 
 cc With rifing Ternpejls Jhakes a guilty Land , 
 
 “ Such as of late o’er pale Britannia pall, 
 
 “ Calm and ferene he guides the furious Blajl , 
 
 “ And pleas’d th’ A lmighty’s Orders to perform. 
 Rides in the Whirlwind and dire 51s the StormR 
 
 Now take thefecond Line of each Couplet, 
 and examine whether the Thought is 
 D 2 varied. 
 
I ' 
 
 36 LETTER VI. 
 
 varied. Is not jhaking a guilty Land with 
 a rijing Tempefi , and directing the Storm, 
 and guiding the furious Blaft , the fame 
 Action ? Is not acting by Divine Command , 
 in the firft Verfe, and performing the 
 Almighty's Orders , in the fifth, the fame 
 Thought likewife ? Marcia’s Simile in 
 Cato abounds flill more with this tire- 
 fome Tautology. 
 
 So the pure limpid Stream when foul with Stains 
 Of rufhing Torrents, and defcending Rains, 
 
 Works itfelf clear, and as it runs refines.” 
 
 Cato, AS L 
 
 Rujhing Torrents , and defcending Rains , 
 works itfelf clear , and as it rims refines . But 
 now having had the difagreeable Office 
 of denying, for the fake of Truth, this 
 excellent Man a Right to a Pretenfion of 
 being a good Poet, Juftice will exadt, and 
 my own Inclination lead me to take no- 
 tice, that his Tranflations of Ovid are as 
 faithful and fpirited, and at the fame 
 time carry as much the free unfetter’d 
 Air of Originals, as any other Tranflations 
 in the Englifli Language. As I have par- 
 ticulariz’d 
 
LETTER VI, 37 
 
 ticulariz’d his Defe&s as a Poet, give me 
 leave to take the more pleafurable Part 
 now to point out Inftances of his Capacity 
 as a Tranflator, which I will felect from 
 the Stories of Narcissus and Echo, in 
 the third Book; and of Salmacis and 
 Hermaphroditus, in the fourth Book 
 of the Metamorphosis. The follow- 
 ing Defcription receives the fame addi- 
 tional Beauty from the Tranflation, as the 
 Youth’s Image did from the furrounding 
 Waters. 
 
 <c Now all undreft upon the Banks he flood, 
 
 <e And clapt his Sides, and leapt into the Flood : 
 
 “ His lovely Limbs the Silver Waves divide, 
 tc His Limbs appear more lovely thro’ the Tide, 
 cc As Lillies fhut within a cryftalCafe, 
 u Receive a glofly Luftre from the Glafs.” + 
 
 Salm. & Herm. Book iv. 
 
 The following Paffages likewife among 
 many others receive the fame Advantage. 
 
 D 3 « The 
 
 f Ille, cavis velox applaufo corpore palmis, 
 
 Defilit in latices : alternaque brachia ducens 
 In liquidis tranflucet aquis : ut ebumea fi quis 
 Signa tegat claro, vel Candida lilia vitro. 
 
 Met am. Lib. iv. 
 
3 8 LETTER VI. 
 
 “ The Boy knew nought of Love, and touch’d with ftiame 
 45 He ftrove and blufh’d, but ftill the Blufh became ; 
 
 “ In riling Blufhes ftill frefti Beauties rofe j 
 44 The funny Side of Fruit fuch Blufhes fhews, 
 
 44 And fuch the Moon, when all her Silver White 
 44 Turns in Eclipfes to a ruddy Light. J Ibid. 
 
 “ With eager Steps the Lycian Fields he croft, 
 
 44 And Fields that border on the Lycian Coaft ; 
 
 44 A River here he view’d fo lovely bright, 
 
 44 It fhew’d the Bottom in a fairer light, 
 
 44 Nor kept a Sand conceal’d from human Sight ; 
 
 44 The Stream produc’d nor flimy Ooze nor Weeds, 
 
 “ Nor miry Rufhes, nor the fpiky Reeds, 
 
 54 But dealt enriching Moifture all around, 
 
 4 4 The fruitful Banks with chearful Verdure crown’d, 
 
 44 And kept the Spring eternal on the Ground.* * 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 44 But oft would bathe her in the cryftal tide: 
 
 Oft with a Comb her dewy Locks divide ,* 
 
 44 Now 
 
 J — Pueri rubor ora notavit 
 
 Nefcia quid fit amor : fed et erubuifte decebat. 
 
 Hie color aprica pendentibus arbore pomis. 
 
 Jut ebori tinfio eft, aut fub candore rubenti. 
 
 Cum fruftra refonant sera auxiliaria Lunae. Ibid. 
 
 * llle etiam Lycias urbes, Lyciaeque propinquos 
 Caras adeft. Vidit hie ftagnum lucentis ad imum 
 Ufque folum lymphte. Non illic Canna paluftris, 
 
 Nec fteriles ulv2e, nec acuta cufpide junci. 
 perfpicuus liquor eft. Stagni tamen ultima vivo 
 Cefpite cinguntur, femperque virenubus herbis. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
39 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 *« Now in the limpid Streams lhe viewed her Face, 
 
 “ And dreft her Image in the floating Glafs ; 
 
 “ On Beds of Leaves lhe now repos’d her Limbs, 
 
 “ Now gather’d Flowers that grew about her Streams ; 
 
 And then by Chance was gath'ring, as (he flood 
 “ To view the Boy, and long’d for what lhe view’d f. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 Give me leave to tranfcribe two Paf- 
 fages from the Story of Narcissus, and 
 I will refer you to the Whole for a more 
 entire Satisfaction. 
 
 But why Ihould I complain, I’m lure he burns 
 “ With equal Flames, and languilhes by turns. 
 
 “ Whene’er I ftoop, he offers at a Kifs, 
 
 “ And when my Arms I flretch, he ftretches his, 
 t( His Eyes with pleafure on my Face he keeps, 
 
 “ He fmiles my Smiles, and when I weep he weeps. 
 
 “ Whene’er I fpeak, his moving Lips appear 
 “ To utter fomething which I cannot hear {. 
 
 Story of Narcif. Book iii. 
 
 f Sed modo fonte fuo formofos perluit artus : 
 
 Sacpe Citoriaco deducit pe&ine crines ; 
 
 Et quid fe decent fpe&atas confulit undas. 
 
 Nunc perlucenti circumdata corpus ami&u, 
 
 Mollibus aut foliis, aut mollibus incubat herbis. 
 
 Saepe legit flores. Et tunc quoque forte legebat. 
 
 Cum puerum vidit : vifumque optavit habere. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 t Spem mihi nefcio quam vultu promittis amico : 
 Cumque ego porrexi tibi brachia, porrigis ultro : 
 
 d 4 
 
 Cum 
 
LETTER VI. 
 
 40 
 
 “ And none of thofe attra&ive Charms remain, 
 c * * To which the flighted Echo fu'd in vain. 
 
 “ She faw him in his prefent Mifery, 
 
 “ Whom fpite of all her Wrongs fhe griev’d to fee. 
 
 “ She anfwer'd fadly to the Lover’s Moan, 
 
 “ Sigh’d back his Sighs, and anfwer’d Groan for Groan. 
 “ Ah Youth! belov’d in vain. Narcissus cries, 
 
 “ Ah Youth ! belov’d in vain, the Nymph replies. 
 
 “ Farewell, fays he, the parting Sound fcarce fell 
 “ From his faint Lips, but fhe reply’d, <£ Farewell. 
 
 “ Then on th 1 unwholfome Earth he gafping lies, 
 
 “ Till Death fhuts up thofe felf-admiring Eyes, 
 
 “ To the cold Shades his flitting Ghoft retires, 
 
 “ And in the Stygian Waves itfelf admires *. 
 
 Ibid. iii. 
 
 if 
 
 Cum rifi, arrides : lachrymas quoque faepe notavi 
 Me lachrymante tuas : nutu quoque figna remittis : 
 
 Et, quantum motu formofi fufpicor oris. 
 
 Verba refers aures non pervenientia noflras. 
 
 Metam. Lib^iii. 
 
 * Nec corpus remanet quondam quod amaverat Echo, 
 Quae tamen ut vidit, quamvis irata memorque, 
 
 Indbluit : quotiefque puer miferabilis, Eheu, 
 
 Dixerat : haec refonis iterabat vocibus Eheu. 
 
 Ultima vox folitam fuit haecfpeftantis in undam, 
 
 Heu fruftra diledte puer ! totidemque remiflt 
 Verba locus: didloque vale, vale inquit et Echo. 
 
 Ille caput viridi feffum fubmifit in herba. 
 
 Lumina ncx claudit domini mirantia formam. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
LETTER VI. 4;i 
 
 If the ingenious Author of the Difcourfe 
 on Poetical Imitation , had not made it 
 plainly appear, that what is too frequently 
 miftaken for one Poet's Imitation of ano- 
 ther, is only an unavoidable Similarity, 
 that will always attend the Defcription of 
 the fame thing drawn by two Geniufes 
 tho’ living in two different Ages and 
 Countries, (for Defcriptions are nothing 
 but Tranfcripts from Nature, and Nature 
 is always the fame) I fhould have been 
 ready to have pronounced Eve's Defcrip- 
 tion of viewing herfelf in the Fountain, in 
 Paradife Lofl , to be borrowed by Milton 
 from the former of thefe two lafl Palfages 
 in Ovid, which is exaftly the fame, and 
 then concludes, 
 
 Pleas’d I Toon return'd, 
 
 “ Pleas’d it return’d as foon, with anfwering Looks 
 te Of Sympathy and Love : there I had fix’d 
 “ Mine Eyes till now, and, pin'd with VAIN Defire , 
 “ Had not a Voice, &c, 
 
 Milton’s Par. Loft. B. iy. 
 
 What would lead me too more flrongly 
 to the Conje&ure, is, the feeming Allu- 
 fion tp the Story of Narcijfus in the Ex- 
 
 preffion. 
 
42 LETTER VI. 
 
 preflion, pin'd with Vain Defire . For. 
 
 fear a Chain of Thoughts fhould here 
 lead me to fay any thing difrefpedful of 
 that Work which Nature form with mod 
 tafte, Woman, I will abruptly conclude 
 myfelf, 
 
 Your y &c. &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 43 1 
 
 LETTER VII, 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 I Remember, Euphemius, when we 
 were reading over together Luci an's 
 Dialogue concerning Beauty, you was 
 uncommonly pleas’d with that Author 
 for calling Homer the moft excellent of 
 the Painters f. Which imply’d, by be- 
 llowing this Expreffion upon the Father 
 of the Poets, that Poetry comprehended 
 all the Powers of her Sifter Art. But 
 I’m afraid it would be too bold in any 
 Writer to call Apelles, or Protoge- 
 nes, the moft excellent of the Poets. 
 For tho’ no Painter can arrive at any Per- 
 fection without a poetical Genius, yet his 
 Art comprehending only Part of the 
 Powers of Poetry, there would not be 
 fufticient Authority for the mutual Appel- 
 lation. There are Subjects indeed in com- 
 mon 
 
 ^ A plTQV TUV f&tyiUV 0//W£?J'. 
 
 Lucian, 
 
LETTER VIL 
 
 44 
 
 mon to Poets and Painters, but even in 
 thofe very Subjects, (not to mention others 
 which are the Province only of the former) 
 Poetry has feveral adventitious Aids which 
 maintain her Superiority over the other 
 Art. Many Obje&s, ’tis true, fuch as the 
 following Night-Pieces for Example, may 
 be fo defcrib’d even by the greateft Poets, 
 that Painters of equal Genius might pro- 
 duce Pictures, betwixt which and them, 
 the Palm of Glory would hang wav’ring. 
 The firft is Milton’s, 
 
 — — — — ■ — — “ The Moon 
 
 tf Rrfing in clouded Majefty, at length 
 
 Apparent Queen unveil’d her peerlefs Light, 
 
 ‘‘ And o’er the Earth her Silver Mantle threw.” 
 
 Milton’s Par. Loft. B. iv. 
 
 The next is Homer’s, which Eusta- 
 thius efteem’d the moft beautiful Night- 
 
 Piece in Poetry. 
 
 Q$r ot er v&tva, Sec. J 
 
 Iliad, lib. viii. 1 . 551, 
 
 The 
 
 X Mr, Pope’s Tranflation of this Pafiage is, in my Opi- 
 nion, fuperior to the Original, which the ingenious 
 Author of Sir Tho. Fitzojbornc's Letters has remark’d be- 
 fore me. I muft add one Obfervation, which is, that 
 Mr. Pope has moft happily digefted a Line of Shake- 
 fpear’Sj 
 
 “ And 
 
LETTER VII. 45 
 
 The reft are Shakespe ar’s. 
 
 “ Yonder blefled Moon — * 
 
 “ That tips with Silver all thofe Fruit-tree Tops. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Again, 
 
 * c The Moon {hines bright : in fuch a Night as this, 
 
 “ When the Tweet Wind did gently kifs the Trees, 
 t( And they did make no Noife. 
 
 Merch. of Ven 0 
 
 Now tho’, I confefs, thefe beautiful Strokes 
 of the three greateft Poets the World ever 
 produc'd, may be equall’d by Painting, 
 yet I will prove that one adventitious 
 Circumftance might be thrown into fuch 
 a Landfcape by Poetry, as the utmoft 
 glow of Colours could never emulate. 
 This too Shakespear has done by a 
 
 metaphorical 
 
 ** And tips with Silver all thofe Fruit-tree Tops/’ 
 into his Tranflation in this moil mafterly Manner, 
 
 “ O’er all the Trees a yellower Verdure died, 
 
 “ And tip with Silver every Mountain’s Head. 
 
 To this I would apply, as Mr. H— — does in general, the 
 Story of Dominickino’s availing himfelf of Aug. Car- 
 racci’s Pi&ure. 
 
46 LETT EH Vll. 
 metaphorical Expreflion in one Angle 
 Line* 
 
 et How fweet the Moon-light Sleeps upon that Bank P* 
 
 Merch. of Ven. 
 
 That Verb [Sleeps ] 5 taken from animal 
 Life and transfer’d by the irrefiftible Ma- 
 gic of Poetry, to the before lifelefs Objects 
 of the Creation, animates the whole 
 Scene, and conveys an inftantaneous Idea 
 to the Imagination what a folemn Still- 
 nefs is requir’d, when the peerlcfs Queen 
 of Night is, in the full Splendor of her 
 Majefty, thus lull’d to Repofe. When I 
 once urg'd this, to an enthuhaftical Ad- 
 mirer of the Lombard School of Painters, 
 in favour of the Pre-eminence of Poetry 
 over his beloved Art, he ingenuoufly con-* 
 fefs’d it was beyond the Power of the 
 Pencil to convey any Idea adequate to 
 this ; and the ingenious Reafon he gave, 
 why it was fo, gave me no fmall Satisfac- 
 tion. Painting, faid he, paffes gently 
 thro’ one of the Senfes, namely, that of 
 Seeing, to the Imagination ; but this ad- 
 ventitious 
 
LETTER VII. 47 
 
 Tentitious Beauty of Shakespe ar’s feizes 
 the Imagination at once, before we can re- 
 duce the Image to a fenfible Objed, which 
 every meer Pidure in Poetry ought for a 
 Tefl of its Truth to be reduc’d to : How- 
 ever, added he, fince we are upon the 
 Subjed of Night-Pieces, if you will ha- 
 zard the Palm of Superiority upon a Sub- 
 jed where both thefe Arts have every Ad- 
 vantage in common ; that is, if you will 
 collate any Defcription in Poetry which 
 conveys only Objeds to the Eyes without 
 thefe additional Charms, I dare venture that 
 rural Night Landfcape, where you fee, 
 pointing to a fine Pidure, the Power of 
 the Moon both upon the Land and Wa- 
 ter, againft the moll labour’d Strokes of 
 Virgil or Milton, or the more en- 
 chanting Sketches of Homer or Shake- 
 spear. I mud own nothing could be 
 more favourable for me than feleding, 
 from his Colledion, this very Piece, to 
 put in Competition with thefe Geniufes * 
 as it did not neceffitate me to feek for a 
 Defcription on any other Subjed, Shake- 
 
 spear 
 
4 b LETTER VII. 
 spear having left us a fhort one, but 
 at the time the mod elegantly pic- 
 turefque of any I remember ; which with 
 a kind of anticipated Triumph I repeated^ 
 
 “ To-morrow Night, when Phoebe doth behold 
 “ Her Silver Vifage in the watry Glafs, 
 
 “ Decking with liquid Pearl the bladed Grafs. 
 
 Midfuvimer Night's Dream . 
 
 I could perceive by the Looks of my 
 Friend, when I had repeated the fecond 
 Line, that he thought his favorite Painter 
 had equall’d Sh akespear in the Repre- 
 fentation of the Reflection of the Moon in 
 the Water, but, when I had compleated 
 the Scene by the third Line, 
 
 “ Decking with liquid Pearl the bladed Grafs,” 
 
 both his Heart, Eyes, and Tongue con- 
 fefs’d the Victory of our inimitable Poet. 
 — You know, Buphemius, the Repre- 
 fentations of Nature in her fimple Retire- 
 ments, as I us’d to call a rural Evening, 
 were my favorite Subjects • more efpe- 
 ciaily when the Artift had blended with 
 the Truth of Imitation, that undefineable 
 Delicacy of Tafte, to which even Truth 
 
 herfelf 
 
LETTER Vli 49 
 
 herfelf is often indebted for a more agree- 
 able Admittance into the Heart. I will 
 illuftrate what I mean by Example. That 
 fuccind Pidure of the Setting Sun in the 
 8 th Book of the lliad % 
 
 Ev eTzi co&zdLVod v mx/oii 
 
 EXKOV VVKTct {AlXcUVAV iTTi ^eiS'U^V cL^&V' 
 
 Lin. 48^. 
 
 4i Now deep in Ocean funk the Lamp of Light* 
 Drawing behind the cloudy Veil of Night.” 
 
 Pope's Tranflation. 
 
 has very flrong Outlines, and commands 
 the warmeft Approbation of our Judgment t 
 but being unadorn’d with other Circum- 
 ftances, and wanting Objeds to enliven 
 the Landfcape, the Applaufe ends with the 
 Judgment, and never finks deep into the 
 Heart. Whereas the following Scene, in 
 Mr. Collins’s Ode to the Evening, being 
 animated by proper Allegorical Perfon- 
 ages, and colour'd highly with inciden- 
 tal Expreffion, warms the Bread: with a 
 fympathetic Glow of retir’d Thought- 
 fulnefs. 
 
 E 
 
 For 
 
5 ° 
 
 LETTER VIL 
 
 €t For when thy folding Star arMng ftiewa 
 “ His paly Circlet, at his warning Lamp, 
 
 “ The fragrant Hours and Elves, 
 
 “ Who flept in Flow’rs the Day, 
 
 ** And many aNymph who wreaths her Brows with Sedges 
 ts And fheds the frefh’ning Dew, and lovelier ftill, 
 
 ** The pensive Pleasures fweet 
 Prepare thy lhadowy Car.’* J 
 
 Perhaps you’ll here turn a former Remark 
 of my own upon me 3 and fay with the 
 tragic Poet* 
 
 **• It bears a juft Refemfelance of thy Fortune, 
 
 ** And fuits the quiet Purpofe of thy Soul.” 
 
 Young ' s Revenge*- 
 
 and tell me, as you once did upon a fimi- 
 lar Occalion, that Pm oblig’d to Retire- 
 ment for the Difcovery of thefe humbl© 
 Pleafures. Perhaps I am in fome meafure i. 
 but tho’ Sorrows have better’d my Heart 
 and render’d it more familiar with Na- 
 ture 
 
 X Sse a Colle&ion of Odes publilh’d a few Years ago 
 by Mr. William Collins , whole neglected Genius will 
 hereafter be both an Honour and a ,Difgraae to our Na- 
 tion- 
 
LETTER VII. 51 
 
 lure than it might have been in the cheap- 
 fuller Scenes of Life, yet you mu ft con- 
 fefs, that, from our earlieft Acquaintance, 
 you always perceiv’d in me a kindred Spi- 
 rit to the pensive Pleasures. Adieu, 
 my dear Friend, and reft aftlir’d, that, 
 whether I fpeculate only in the Shades of 
 Obfcurity, or whether the purfuit of my 
 not ill-grounded future Expectations, cafts 
 me into the more noify Scenes of Action, 
 I fhall always remain with the greateft 
 Sincerity, 
 
 Tour , &c. &c. 
 
 E 2 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 52 ] 
 
 LETTER VIIL 
 
 I 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 ID Amelia and feveral others of 
 
 my Friends in Reality defire, in 
 Conjunction with you, that I would fend 
 you the little Eflfay, which I wrote feve- 
 ral Years ago when I was very young, 
 upon the polite Arts ; or was it one of the 
 good-natur’d Frauds of Friendfhip, to de- 
 ceive me into the harmlefs Pleafure of 
 thinking fueh a Trifle fhould be in re- 
 queft among thofe, whofe Efteem I fo 
 highly value ? Be it which it will, your 
 Defire fhail command my Compliance in 
 every refpeCt, and I will therefore tran- 
 fcribe the whole from the periodical Mis- 
 cellaneous Collection in which it was pub- 
 li£h’d. 
 
 § Nothing is a greater Indication of 
 Luxury, the Fore-runner of Poverty, than 
 
 $ This little EfTay was publifhed in a periodical Paper 
 which came out once a Fortnight in tire Year 1746. 
 
 the 
 
LETTER VIII. 53 
 
 the Degeneracy of the polite Arts into 
 ufelefs Oftentation. The Poets, Painters, 
 and Sculptors have of late almoft forgot 
 what gave rife to, and ought to be the end 
 of their Labours. Thofe noble Defigns 
 in which Athens gloried more than in all 
 her Military Exploits, are now little re- 
 garded; and thofe, noble Servants of Vir- 
 tue, the Arts, which formerly gave In- 
 ftrudtion not only to the young and unex- 
 perienc’d, but to the old and learned, are 
 moftly flighted, and often proftituted to 
 adorn Vice, and flatter human Vanity. 
 But to lay afide the Severity of the Mo- 
 ralift, and talk to the Profeffors , of what, 
 they will think, concerns ’em moft, I am 
 fully convinc’d that nothing would fomuch 
 contribute to their Fame and Fortune, and 
 to make ’em complete Matters, as an At- 
 tachment to Virtue, and the Ufes of Life; 
 and an Emulation to form their Defigns 
 from the Models of thofe ancient Artifts, 
 whofe Works have been deliver’d down to 
 us with the greateft Applaufe, and will be 
 E 3 tQ 
 
54 LETTER VIII. 
 
 to all Pofterity, as long as Truth is efteem’d 
 
 the Criterion of Perfection. 
 
 Suppofe any one of the Geniufes of the 
 prefent Age, whether Poet, Painter, or 
 Statuary, inftead of following the wild 
 Lure of his own Imagination, or the 
 Whims of modern Originals, fhould mo- 
 de illy content himfelf to make Prodi- 
 cus’s Judgment of Hercules in Xeno- 
 phon’s Memorabilia $ the perfect Beauty 
 of Lucan ; or the mythological Pibiure 
 of Human Life written by Cebes, the 
 SubjeCt of his Imitation j I dare anfwer 
 for it he would prefently excell his Bre- 
 thren, and verify this Obfervation, that 
 the moil faithful Difciples of Nature are 
 always the greateft Mailers of Art. This 
 Juftiee however I muft do my Country- 
 men, to obferve, that there are flill feve- 
 ral among us, who, in fpite of publick 
 Depravity, retain a virtuous Love for the 
 Arts, and make Vje the end of their En- 
 deavours. A Friend of mine who is an 
 Admirer of the three Pieces above-men- 
 tioned, took me to fee a Collection of 
 Pictures, which were moil of ’em taken 
 
 from 
 
LETTER VIII. 55 
 
 from the Defigns of thofe celebrated Writ- 
 ers. Among the reft I was particularly 
 pleas'd with four, which exceeded any 
 modern Performances, I ever faw, in Con- 
 trivance and Execution. The Subjects 
 were Infancy, Youth, Manhood, and 
 Age, which were reprefented in the fol- 
 lowing manner. Tire principal Figure of 
 the firft Piece was a naked Child coming 
 into a Wildernefs, fupported by Inno- 
 cence and Wonder. At the Entrance 
 the Fancies of various kinds ftood ready 
 to receive it, who were conducted, for 
 the moft part, by Jmpoflure ; Ignorance , 
 and Error $ fome few indeed by Reafon 
 .and Truth. Thofe, belonging to the for- 
 mer, were the Minifters of Mijery ; thofe, 
 to the latter, of Happinefs . Both Parties 
 feem’d very defirous to allure the new 
 Comer to their refpe£iive Dwellings, and 
 Doubt and Pleafure were blended toge- 
 ther in the Infant’s Countenance. — The 
 fecond Piece was compofed of a Group 
 aaot unlike the firft. A young Man was 
 E 4 repre- 
 
$6 LETTER VIII. 
 reprefented walking in a beautiful Garden, 
 where all the Trees in full Bloffom were 
 arrang’d in the moft natural Manner ; the 
 Loves , the Graces , and Pleafures were 
 courting his Embrace, whofe Careffes he 
 return’d with mutual Ardor. Beneath the 
 Feet of thefe was a Serpent crawling out 
 from under a Border of Flowers ; and, at 
 a little Diftance from thence, three or 
 four Cupids binding Reafon in Chains, 
 Venus appear’d above, descending in a 
 Chariot drawn by Doves, with her Ida- 
 lian Son upon her Lap, and Indolence 
 am id ft her Court of infant Vices lolling 
 on a Couch below,— — — Manhood, 
 the Subject of the third Piece, was cha- 
 racteriz'd by a fedate Perfon in a Vine- 
 yard at the time of Vintage. He was 
 leaning in a thoughtful Pofture, againft a 
 large Olive-Tree, whofe Fruit was falling 
 round him. Ambition flood on one Side 
 pointing to the Temple of Glory , and Care 
 on the other Side, with a wrinkled Fore- 
 head, looking at NeceJJity , T o thefe the Arts 
 
 and 
 
LETTER VIII. 57 
 
 and Sciences were offering their Affi fiance, 
 and the Laws protecting them, with their 
 written Tables in one hand, and the Sword 
 of yu[lice in the other. But amidft all 
 this Group, the Figures that look’d the 
 moft amiable were Friendjhip , conjugal 
 Love , and parental Ajfettion. To give 
 thefe the moft heavenly Sweetnefs, the 
 Painter had exerted his utmoft Skill ; and 
 to thefe the principal Image feem’d moft 
 attentive, as if he regarded the reft only 
 
 as fubfervient to them. The fourth 
 
 Piece remains to be defcrib’d. There was 
 an old Man (landing in a leafiefs Grove 
 with his unaCtive Arms folded together, 
 as if he was fixed in the deepeft Medita- 
 tion. His Beard was long and white, and 
 his Garments like thofe worn by the Athe- 
 nian Sages. Reflexion and Experience 
 came behind him, and their Offspring 
 Forejight and Precaution went before. 
 Reafon , the great Queen of the intel- 
 lectual Train, appeared in a triumphal 
 Car, with the Paffions chain’d to the 
 WiieelSj and Opinion waiting on her Look: 
 
 4 at 
 
5 S LETTER VIIX. 
 
 at fome Diftance Hope and Peace were 
 ready to condudt the Sage to the Temple 
 of Death, who fate upon a Throne with 
 Pi me, (his Train of Hours and Days at- 
 tending round), and feem’d to invite the 
 approaching Gueft with a friendly Smile 
 of Salutation, and not to deter him with 
 the Looks of Horror, in which the Guilty 
 
 are accuftom’d to paint him. In thefe 
 
 four Pictures, the Seafons of Life, the 
 PaJJions , &c. are moft beautifully perfoni- 
 fied, and may ferve as a Specimen of 
 what was efteem’d ingenious and beautiful 
 among the Ancients. 
 
 But befides thefe, I was not a little de- 
 lighted with another Angle Piece in the 
 fame Collection. It was the Wreck of a 
 large Ship on a Rock •> the Veflel is fup- 
 pos’d to have juft bulg’d, the Mariners 
 are all in the utmoft Confufion and De- 
 fpair, and in the midft of ’em upon the 
 Deck ftands a beautiful young Woman 
 looking down upon the Waves below, 
 where an old Man is expiring with a dead 
 Infant in his Arms : the one is fuppofed 
 
 to 
 
LETTER VIII. 59 
 to be her Father, the other her Child : 
 the lively Anguifh, mix'd with the moft 
 tender Looks of parental and filial Love, 
 which flie expreffes, never fails to raife 
 in the Spectator of this mafter- piece of 
 Art, the moft heart-ennobling Pity, and 
 gives us a filent Leffon of Duty and Af- 
 fedtion.— — Such Subjedfs asthefe ought 
 to employ the Time of every Artift, 
 where natural and moral Beauty would 
 be again united as they were of old ; for 
 whenever a good Tafte prevails in the 
 one, an infeparable Connedtion will tranft 
 fer it into the other ; but as long as Super - 
 Jlition ufes Art like a Magician’s Wand, 
 to delude the Multitude with her fairy 
 Creations, and Luxury allures her to re- 
 bel againft Virtue , the Produdtions muft 
 neceffarily be monftrous ; difguft every 
 undiftempered Mind ; and only fuit that 
 Incongruity from whence they fprung of 
 Vriejlcrajt and Licenticujnefs , 
 
 You fee, Euphemius, how willing I 
 -am to oblige you, by hazarding to your 
 nice Infpedtion the firft Sallies of a young, 
 
 the’ 
 
6o 
 
 LETTER VIIL 
 tho 9 well-meaning, Fancy. If the Eflay 
 gives Amelia any Pleafure, I dare fay 
 you'll very foon communicate it to me, 
 as I am convinc'd, from repeated Favours 
 of this kind, that you will never let any 
 Opportunity efcape of giving me even the 
 leaft Satisfaction ; much lefs will you 
 conceal from me what, you may very 
 well know, will afford the greateff. I am 4 
 
 Tour , &c. &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 6i ] 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 I AM quite lick, my dear Friend, of 
 the fplendid Impertinence, the un- 
 meaning Glitter, the taftelefs Frofulion, 
 and monftrous Enormities, which I have 
 lately feen in a Summer’s Ramble to fome 
 of the Villas which fwarm in the Neigh- 
 bourhood of our Metropolis. You would 
 imagine that the Owners, having retain’d 
 the horrid Chimeras of a fev’rilh Dream, 
 had jumbled them together in a waking 
 Frenzy. In one Place was a Houfe built 
 from an aukward Delineation plunder’d 
 from an o;d Indian Screen, and decorated 
 with all the Monfters of Afta and Africa , 
 inhofpitably grinning at Strangers over 
 every Door, Window, and Chimney- 
 Piece. In another, we found an old Go- 
 thic Building encrufted with Stucco, fliced 
 into Grecian Pilafters, with gilded Capi- 
 tals ; fuperbly lined with Paper disfigur’d 
 all over with the fat Deities of China, 
 
 and 
 
62 L E T T E R IX. 
 
 and the heterogeneous Animals that exift 
 only in the aerial Regions of Utopia. 
 Few, very few, did we meet with that 
 bore any relation to Proportion, or the 
 Conveniencies and natural Emoluments of 
 Life. But in all thefe notable Diftortions 
 of Art, I perceiv'd the poor proftituted 
 ^ Word Taste, was conftantly made ufe 
 of to exprefs the abortive Conceptions of 
 a diftemper’d Fancy . From a curfory 
 View of thefe motley Productions of 
 modern Refinement, you would be led 
 to think, that the new Gentry of the 
 City, and their Leaders the well-drefs’d 
 Mob about St. ’James' s, were feiz’d, the 
 very Moment they left the Town- Air, 
 with a Chinefe Madnefs, and imagined a 
 Deviation from Truth and Nature was an 
 infallible Criterion of Taste. But of all 
 the fplendid Impertinencies I ever faw, 
 nothing ever excited in me fo contemp- 
 tuous an Indignation as Mucio's Palace > 
 and yet the filly Multitude pour forth in 
 abundant Crowds from the adjacent City, 
 
 during 
 
LETTER IX. 63 
 during the Summer Seafon, on a particular 
 Day of the Week, which the indulgent 
 Owner fets apart for that Purpofe, to gaze 
 with open-mouth’d Afionifhment at the 
 fuperb Nothing of this unmeaning Struc- 
 ture. Mucio’s Palace Hands about fix 
 Miles from London, upon a dry barren 
 Spot where God never intended Wood 
 fhould naturally grow or Water fpring : 
 Mucio therefore made choice of this Spot, 
 in Preference to any other, to fhew the 
 admiring Spectators, that Wealth could 
 perform every thing in the Phyfical 
 World, as his wary Anceftors had found 
 it would do in the Moral. So to fupply 
 what Nature in a profufe Irregularity be- 
 llows upon other Places, but had with- 
 held from this, he planted, at an im- 
 menfe Expence, by Rule and Line, feverai 
 pretty Walks of Elm Trees, fo engagingly 
 like one another, that, at the firft Glance, 
 you may know them all to be of the fame 
 Family ; and obferving that Water is more 
 naturally collected into, and preferv'd in 
 
 a Body* 
 
 4 * 
 
64 LETTER IX, 
 a Body, in low Situations, Mucio, whofs 
 chief Aim, it feems, was to excel Nature , 
 mod: artfully catch’d upon an Eminence* 
 in a round Bafon turn’d by a pair of Com- 
 pafles, or more properly a large Rain- 
 water Ciftern of ten Acres, the imprifon’d 
 Contributions of Winter Showers, to pa- 
 ir ify by Stagnation in the Summer Seafon. 
 The Houfe itfelf, ’tis true, is built with 
 good Portland Stone, before which is 
 fuck on a Portico in the Corinthian Order. 
 The Rooms within are large without 
 Magnificence ; numerous without Con- 
 venience 5 and fitted up with an ofienta- 
 tious Splendor, without the minuted: Ap- 
 pearance of any one real Elegance. The 
 Furniture is even difgufiingly expenfive, 
 and ornamented into ufelefs Incumbrance. 
 Several daub’d Copies of P. PiNiNi’sRuins 
 dangle over monilrous Marble Chimney- 
 Pieces, that look like Family Monuments 
 in a Cathedral ; and not a few fhapelefs 
 naked Pagan Deities, done by modern 
 Artids, fprawl upon Canvafs Unrounded 
 
 with 
 
L E T T E R IX. 6 5 
 
 with gilt Frames, tack'd upon Hangings 
 of Gold and Silver Tiffue. In Ihort, the 
 whole Teems as if Mucio had been fuf- 
 fer’d by Heaven, to fquander away i ru- 
 men fe Treafures in this moft ridiculous 
 manner, to give a filent Leffon of Confo- 
 lation to every Spectator, how low foever 
 his Lot is fallen in the vale of Life, that 
 Nature and Propriety will make a thatch- 
 covered Cottage ufeful, and an Ornament 
 in the rural Laqdfcape round him, when 
 this enormousPile of Stones fcarce afforded 
 the taftelefs Builder a dwelling Room, and 
 will remain, evdn in Ruins, a Monument 
 
 of Vanity and Dulnefsj 1 am glad you 
 
 have finifhed to your Satisfaction, the 
 Palladia n Bridge; you was fo bufy about 
 
 when I was la ft with you at — . I 
 
 have feleCted a very beautiful parcel of 
 Spar for your Grotto, which I propofe to 
 fend in a few Days. I am, 
 
 Tour, &c. 
 
 F 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 66 ] 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 To Eugenio. 
 
 I Have fent you according to my Pro- 
 mife, Eugenio, that little Philofophi- 
 cal Poem, I have fo often recommended, 
 written by Sir John Davies, entitled, 
 The Original , Nature , and Immortality of 
 the Soul . Wherein you will find the fecret 
 Springs of Pleafure and Pain, Love and 
 Hatred, laid open to your Jnfpedlion. The 
 ingenious Author, after having defcribed 
 the Jive Senfes as the Inlets of all Objedts 
 to the Soul, and the Imagination as a Senfe 
 in common betwixt them and the intellec- 
 tual Powers, proceeds to explain in the 
 following Stanzas whence the Spirits of 
 Senfe [i. e. Taste] arife, and how they 
 influence the human Paffions, 
 
 (t But fmce the Brain does lodge the Pow’rs of Senfe, 
 
 “ How comes it in the Heart thofe Paflions fpring > 
 
 “ The mutual Love, the kind Intelligence; 
 
 “ ’Twixt Heart and Brain this Sympathy doth bring, 
 
 “ From 
 
L E T T E R X. 6 7 
 
 ** From the kind Heat which in the Heart doth reign, 
 
 “ The Spirits of Life doth their beginning take, 
 
 “ Thofe Spirits of Life afcending to the Brain 
 
 “ When they come there the Spirits of Senfe do make.' 
 (t Thefe Spirits of Senfe in Fantaff s high Court, 
 
 “ Judge of the Forms of Objedts ill or well, 
 
 “ And fo they fend a good or ill Report 
 
 “ Down to the Heart where all Jjfeftions dwell. 
 f< If the Report be good it caufeth Love, 
 
 “ And longing Hope, and well-allured Joy, 
 
 “ If it be ill, then doth it Hatred move, 
 
 “ And trembling Fear , and vexing Griefs annoy. 
 
 You will obferve from hence that a true 
 relifh. for Life as well as for natural Beauty, 
 depends upon a right Management of our 
 Fancies j for if Fancy prefents Objeds in 
 falfe Appearances to thefe Spirits of Senfe, 
 the Affections will embrace Vice and De- 
 formity with the Careffes, which natu- 
 rally belong to Virtue and Beauty. For 
 this Reafon the noble Author of the 
 Characteristics warns us, out of the 
 Stoic School, againft the Delufions of 
 a falfe Fancy, as the moft important Con- 
 F 2 cern 
 
63 LETTER X, 
 
 cern of our Being *f*. If you would fee 
 this Dodrine illuftrated and adorned wdth 
 the moft genuine Flowers of Poetry, let 
 me recommend you to the third Book of 
 the Pleajures of Imagination , the moft 
 beautiful of all didadic Poems,- — I find 
 Ambition has drawn you, from the 
 quiet Retirement I laft left you in, to the 
 bufv buzz of Courts and Levees. I mu ft 
 
 J 
 
 ingenuouily confefs that the purfuit of 
 Wealth and Honours I fhould now enjoy 
 myfelf, for fince the irreparable Lofs of 
 all domeftic Comforts I fuftained by the 
 Death of my dear Eudocia, I have plac’d 
 my chief Happinefs in hopes of railing 
 myfelf to the Charader a long race of An- 
 ceftors have poffefled before me ; but for 
 you, who ftill enjoy the more defireable 
 Comforts of conjugal Love, to leave the 
 enchanting Converfation of your fair ac- 
 compli In 5 d Friend, for the dull jargon of 
 Bufinefs, is an exchange infinitely to your 
 Lofs. If Fancy has drefs’d up domefiic 
 
 Happiness 
 
 •f See Lord Shaftejbury’ s Chara£teriftjcs paflim. 
 
LETTER X. 69 
 
 Happiness in the Robes of Office, be- 
 lieve me fhe plays the Spirits of Senfe 
 very falfe, and let me’ warn you betimes, 
 left your Fate ffiould be the fame as that 
 of a noble Arabia?! I have heard related. 
 The Story is this. There dwelt at Izra 
 a young Nobleman named Miravan, 
 who was blefled with Health, Wit, Beauty, 
 and a fufficient Competency of the good 
 Things of this World, which for fome 
 Years he enjoy’d with the moft uninter- 
 rupted Satisfaction, till one Day walking 
 among the Tombs of his Anceftors, he 
 obferv’d upon one of them the following 
 Infcription almoft erafed by Time ; 
 
 In this tomb is a greater treasure 
 
 than Croesus ever possessed. 
 
 Inflamed immediately with the very luft 
 of Avarice, he caufed the pond'rous and 
 marble Jaws (as Shakefpear calls them) 
 of his Anceftor’s Sepulchre to be opened; 
 when entering with rapt’rous Expectation 
 of finding immenfeTreafures, he was ftruck 
 F 3 fpeechlefs 
 
7 o LETTER X. 
 
 fpeechlefs with Difappointment to behold 
 nothing but a heap of Bones, Duft, and 
 Putrefaction, with this Infcription over it. 
 
 Here would have dwelt ETERNAL 
 REPOSE A TREASURE CROESUS NEVEB 
 POSSESSED WHICH THOU HAST DRIVEN HENCE 
 BEING EXCITED BY AN INSATIABLE LOVE 
 OF GOLD TO DISTURB THE SACRED REMAINS 
 OF THY PROGENITORS. Had NOT THY 
 REASON BEEN DELUDED BY A FALSE FANCY 
 SHE WOULD HAVE TOLD THEE THAT THE 
 GRAVE CONTAINS NOTHING BUT DUST AND 
 ASHES. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Eugenio, and build 
 no Expectations but upon the Rock of 
 Certainty. I am, 
 
 lour , &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 7 * 1 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 To Eu PH EMI US. 
 
 I Am greatly pleafed, Euphemius, 
 that you was of the fame Opinion as 
 myfelf, in a late Converfation, that no- 
 thing would vitiate a Man’s Ha/le for 
 Poetry more, than frequently reading the 
 Italian Poets. Their forced Allufions, 
 their tinfel Concetti , and perpetual Affec- 
 tation of hunting for prety Thoughts in- 
 difcriminately upon every Subjedl, are fo 
 many Deviations from good Writing, 
 which degrade the Dignity of Heroic , 
 and totally deftroy the fimplicity of Pajlo - 
 ral Poefy. Sir Philip Sidney’s Arca- 
 dia affords a fufficient Example how 
 much the finefl: Genius may be corrupted 
 by a too familiar Intercourfe with thofe 
 exotic Triflers. I don’t mean by this to 
 extend my Cenfure to every Part of their 
 poetical Compofitions, as there are many 
 F 4 beautiful 
 
7 2 LETTER XI, 
 
 beautiful Paflages in Tasso’s Jerusalem 
 in one Species, and in his Amin t a in 
 the other; in Ariosto’s Orlando, and 
 in Guarini’s Pastor Fido, which are 
 worthy of the high eft Commendations ; 
 much lefs would I recommend the total 
 negleft of them, or fnatch that Palm of 
 Glory from their Heads, which they have 
 juftly merited, from being the Inventors 
 of the Dramatic Pajloral. Never thelefs 
 I ftill retain the Sentiments, I then ad- 
 vanced, that there were even in thofe 
 two celebrated Pieces, the Amin t A, and 
 Pastor Fido, fuch a taftelefs Profufion 
 of that fhining Stuffy which Boileau 
 calls Clinquant , as mu ft greatly dilguft 
 every Reader whofe Fancy is properly 
 chaftened by that Parent of lbber Criticifm, 
 from whom the Stag yk i te drew every 
 Precept, unerring Nature . The fir ft A£l 
 of both is full of thofe pretty Abfurdities; 
 indeed Guar ini fo faithfully copies 
 his Predeceffor, that L i Kco utters D af n e ’s 
 
 Thoughts 
 
LETTER XI. 
 
 73 
 
 Thoughts throughout, and almoft too in 
 the fame Expreffions. For Example, 
 
 Odi quel Ufcignuolo 
 Che va di ramo in ramo 
 Cantando, lo a?no , lo amo . 
 
 Dafn. in Am. Adt r. 
 
 Quell* Augellin, che canta • 
 
 Si dolcemente, e lafcivetto vola 
 Or da I* Abete al Faggio, 
 
 Ed or dal Faggio al Mirto, 
 
 S’ aveffe umano Spirto, 
 
 Direbbe, ardo d’amore, ardo d’amore.’ 
 Linco in Paftor Fido, Adi i. 
 
 La Biicia lafcia il fuo veleno, e corre 
 Cupida al fuo Amatore : 
 
 Van le Tigri in amore: 
 
 Ama il Leon fuperbo s 
 
 Dafne in Aminta, Adi i . 
 
 This laft defcription of Tasso’s, of the 
 force of Love in the Brute Creation, is id- 
 deed unaffedledly beautiful, butGu arini, 
 
 thinking 
 
74 LETTER XL 
 thinking it a plain and fpiritlefs Obferva- 
 lion, has Italianiz' d it to his own Fancy 
 in the following manner. 
 
 Muggein mandra l’armento, et quei tnuggiti 
 Sono amorofi inviti. 
 
 Rugge il Leone al bofco, 
 
 Ne quel ruggito e d’ira, 
 
 Cofi d’amor Sofpira. 
 
 Pallor Fido, A61 
 
 This Lion (as Theseus fays of his Bro- 
 ther In Shakespear’s MidfummerNighf $ 
 Dream ) is a very gentle Beajl , and of a 
 good Conference. But I cannot dilmifs this 
 PalTage without noticing the Merit of 
 the Amsterdam Editor ot 1732, who 
 founds this ingenious explanatory Note 
 upon the poor Word Cofi. nell iftefjo modo 
 (fays he) or forfe meglio : quando fa Cofi \ 
 cio e quando rugge. It may eafily be 
 conceiv'd how a luxuriant Fancy may in 
 the Heat of poetic Rapture glow up into 
 Nonfenfe ; but how a Commentator can 
 coolly explain it afterwards is beyond my 
 Underftanding to account for, 
 
 o 
 
 0 
 
 I fhould 
 
LETTER XT. 75 
 I fhould be glad if fome of thofe 
 Gentlemen, who are fo willing to believe 
 the Superiority of the Italian Poets over 
 their own Countrymen, would collate 
 Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdefs , and 
 Milton's Comus , with the above men- 
 tioned Pieces, and impartially confider the 
 full Merit of both. I dare fay they would 
 find this Branch of Laurel, which thofe 
 two great Men have fo fuccefsfully tranf- 
 planted from Italy, flourifhes better in 
 our own temperate Climate, than on the 
 Banks of the Tiber. But, as the Faith- 
 ful Shepherdess is more precifely a dra- 
 matic paftoral Poem than Comus, and the 
 firft too that was attempted in our Lan- 
 guage, I would reft the Contention upon 
 that alone. If they defcend to particular 
 Pafiages, the following may fafely be 
 put in Competition both for Tafte and 
 Moral, with any they can produce from 
 their favourite Authors. After the Satyr 
 has left Clorin, the Faithful Shepher- 
 defs, 
 
7 6 L E T T E R XI. 
 
 defs, flie breaks out into the following 
 
 Soliloquy. 
 
 “ All my Fears go with thee. 
 
 “ What Greatnefs, or what private hidden Power 
 « Is there in me to draw Submiflion 
 
 From this rude Man or Bead ? Sure I am mortal : 
 
 “ The Daughter of a Shepherd, he was mortal : 
 
 ** And (he that bore me mortal : prick my Hand 
 “ And it will bleed ; a Fever (hakes me, and 
 « Thefe'if-fame wind that makes the youngLambs (brink. 
 “ Makes me a- cold : my Fear fays I am mortal : 
 
 “ Yet I have heard, my Mother told it me, 
 
 “ And now I do believe it, if I keep 
 
 ** My Virgin Flo w’r uncropt, pure, chafte, and fair, 
 
 “ No Goblin, Wood-God, Fairy, Elf, or Fiend, 
 
 “ Satyr, or other Pow’r that haunts the Grove, 
 
 “ Shall hurt my Body, or by vain Illufion, 
 
 Draw me to wander after idle Fires ; 
 
 “ Or Voices calling me in dead of Night, 
 
 “ To make me follow, and to tole me on 
 “ Thro’ Mire and (landing Pool, to find my Ruin : 
 
 (t Elfe why (hould this rough thing who never knew 
 “ Manners nor fmooth Humanity, whofe heats 
 «* Are rougher than himfelf, and more milhapen, 
 
 <# Thus mildly kneel to me ? Sure there’s a Pow’r 
 “ In that great name of Virgin, that binds fad 
 ** All rude uncivil Bloods, all Appetites 
 “ That break their Confines. Adi. 
 
 Perigot's Declaration, of the Purity 
 of his Love to Amoret, and the Chaftity 
 of his Intentions, is not with lefs Tafte 
 
 defcribed 
 
LETTER XI. 
 
 77 
 
 defcribed in the fame Ad, not for- 
 getting how ingenioufiy the Poet has 
 avail’d himfelf of the Prejudices imbib’d 
 in Infancy concerning invifible Powers. 
 
 “ O do not wrong my honeft Ample Truth, 
 
 “ Myfelf and my Affe&ions are as pure 
 * c As thofe chafte Flames that burn before the Shrine 
 “ Of the chafteDiAN : Only my Intent 
 “ To draw you thither was to plight our Troths 
 “ With interchange of mutual chafte Embraces, 
 
 ** And ceremonious tying of our Souls : 
 
 “ For to that holy Wood is confecrate 
 “ A virtuous Well, about whofe flow’ry Banks 
 The nimble-footed Fairies dance their Rounds 
 <£ By the pale Moon-ihine, dipping oftentimes 
 Their ftolen Children, fo to make ’em free 
 “ From dying Flelh, and dull Mortality ; 
 cc By this fair Fount hath many a Shepherd fworn, 
 
 “ And given away his Freedom, many a Troth 
 “ Been plight, which neither Envy, nor old Time 
 “ Could ever break, with many a chafte Kifs given 
 M In hope of coming Happinefs. Act i. 
 
 And Amar illis’s Defcription of the 
 fallen Shepherd , his Dog, and his Flocks, 
 is as elegant. When I here fay elegant , 
 I would not be underflood to mean that 
 the Objeds defcrib’d are fo, I mean the 
 
 Defcription 
 
^8 LETTER XL 
 Defcription only ; for Poetry, as well as 
 Painting, being an Imitative Art, a Poet 
 may fhew as much Ingenuity and Tafte 
 in the Defcription of a Defart, as in that 
 of the moll flowery Landfcape. 
 
 44 There is a Shepherd dwells 
 44 Down by the Moor, whofe Life hath ever ihewn 
 44 More fullen Difcontent than Saturn’s Brow, 
 
 44 When he fits frowning on the Births of Men: 
 
 14 One that doth wear himfelf away in Lonenefs, 
 
 44 And never joys, unlefs it be in breaking 
 44 The holy plighted Troths of mutual Souls: 
 
 Ss One that lulls after every feveral Beauty, 
 
 44 But yet was never known to love or like, 
 
 44 Were the Face fairer and more full of Truth 
 44 Than Phoebe in her Fullnefs, or the Youth 
 44 Of fmooth Lyjeus ; whofe nigh-ilarved Flocks 
 44 Ate always fcabby, and infedt all Sheep 
 44 They feed withal, whofe Lambs are ever laft 
 44 And die before their weaning, and whofe Dog 
 44 Looks like his Mailer, lean, and full of Scurf, 
 
 44 Not caring for the Pipe or Whittle* 
 
 Aa i. 
 
 To dwell upon everyBeauty in this Piece 
 would be to tranfcribe the whole. I fhall 
 therefore only add, that all Men of Genius, 
 fince the Death of the great Author, 
 
 have 
 
LETTER XL 79 
 
 have concurr’d in applauding this moft 
 excellent Performance. As I have fo 
 warmly fpoken of this Play, give me 
 Leave to recommend to you the addi- 
 tional Pleafure, when you next read it, of 
 perufing the Notes of the lafl: Editor Mr. 
 Seward, who has made fome happy 
 Emendations in the Text, and very appo- 
 fitely illuftrated his Author with feveral 
 fimilar Paffages from Homer, Theocri- 
 tus, Virgil, Spenser, Shakespear 
 
 and Milton. Notwithftanding what 
 
 I have faid concerning the Italians , I 
 hope my Compliments won't be unac- 
 ceptable to our ingenious Friend, whom 
 we call Petrarch, in his Retirement 
 
 in the Vale of , known among us by 
 
 the Name of Valclusa, and his amiable, 
 I may fay, hisenchanting Laura. Adieu. 
 
 Tour } &c. &c. 
 
 I am , 
 
[ 8c ] 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 To Philemon. 
 
 I Have been feveral Days, my dear Phi- 
 lemon, feeding my Eyes with thofe 
 delicious Remains of ancient Architecture, 
 the Ruins of Palmyra, with which 
 thofe very ingenious Gentlemen Mx.Daw- 
 kins and Mr. Wood, who made a Voyage 
 into Asia on Purpofe with the much to 
 be lamented Mr. Bouve r ie, have fo great- 
 ly entertain’d the Public. What a Blef- 
 ling it is to Mankind in general, and Glory 
 to the Country in particular they be- 
 long to, when ample Fortunes fall to the 
 Lot of Men who have fuch Tafte and be- 
 nevolent Difpofitions ! I am almofl per- 
 fuaded that Longinus himfelf mull have 
 been the Architect of the Temple of the 
 Sun. There is fomething fo lublime in 
 that View of the grand Entrance, and the 
 noble PerfpeCtive behind it ; and fo ana- 
 logous to his capacious Conceptions of 
 
 Great- 
 
LETTER XIL 8 1 
 
 Greatnefs in poetical Compofitions • that 
 many a one, with a Fancy lefs warm than 
 mine, join’d to a Temper fomewhat more 
 dogmatical, would pronounce it abfol.ute- 
 ly to be the Work of that great Genius, 
 and endeavour to fupport his Opinion, 
 like a modem Controverfialift, with a 
 hundred notable Conjectures tack'd toge- 
 ther w T ith Shreads of ancient Pliftory. I 
 muft own I was greatly furpriz’d that 
 among this prodigious Heap of magnifi- 
 cent Ruins, there fhould be found only 
 four Ionic Pillars, and all the reft fhould 
 be of the Corinthian Order. The 
 Deteftation the Palmyrenes bore to 
 the Romans might be a ftrong Reafon 
 there fhould be none of the Tuscan ; 
 but why one Grecian Order fhould be 
 fo little us'd, and the other totally ne- 
 glected, feems not fo eafily to be account- 
 ed for, efbecially too when the Ionic was 
 more in ufe, thro’ Asia Minor and the 
 neighbouring Countries to Palmyra, 
 than both the other two join’d together. 
 'Tis true indeed, the Simplicity of the 
 G Doric 
 
82 LETTER XII. 
 
 Doric would have ill fuited the magni- 
 ficent Structures built in Honor of the 
 greater Cceleftial Gods? but might never- 
 thelefs with the utmoft Propriety and 
 Tafte have been applied in Temples of 
 the inferior Deities, and more particularly 
 too of thofe wfio prefided over the Con- 
 cerns of the innocent Shepherd and labo- 
 rous Hufbandman. Here not only the 
 plain fubftantial Column of the Doric, 
 the Canon of whofe Order was afcertain’d, 
 not by the lofty Cedar, but by fturdy 
 Trees of a more common Growth, was 
 the only proper Support for the Temple 
 of Pan or Sylvanus, but the Orna- 
 merits generally made ufe of in that Order 
 were fuch too as , would be exneCted na- 
 
 * x 
 
 turally in Buildings of that kind at the 
 fir ft Inftitution of this rural Religion • 
 namely, the Heads and Horns of Ani- 
 mals offer’d up in their Sacrifices. The 
 want of this Species of Architecture 
 makes me fufpeCt, that the Ruins which 
 now remain were built at a Time when 
 an unbounded Luxury had over- run the 
 
 State, 
 
LETTER XII. 83 
 State, and almoft extine;ui{li’d the natural 
 Tafte for Truth and Propriety. The great 
 Critic juft mention’d, has a moft beauti- 
 ful Obfervation in his Treat i/e upon the 
 Sublime, concerning the Effedt which im- 
 moderate Wealth has both upon private 
 Families and Nations, and the fpeedy 
 Progrefs it makes to obliterate in the hu- 
 man Soul, by the Luxury accompanying 
 it, that noble and natural Regard for every 
 Species of Virtue, which the benevo- 
 lent Author of our Being has originally 
 implanted in us. <c I cannot conceive, 
 u (fays Longinus) how it can happen 
 “ otherwife, but that We, who are fo 
 <c doatingly fond of immenfe Riches, or, to 
 u fpeak more juftly, who idolize them, 
 <c ftiould receive into our Souls thofe 
 cc Evils which are congenial with them. 
 u For Profufion very clofely follows 
 “ Wealth, or, as we may fay, accompa- 
 ce nies it ; and the latter having open’d 
 u the Gates both of Cities and private 
 4t Families, they enter in and dwell toge- 
 <c ther : where having fettled for fome 
 G z “ tyme 
 
84 LETTER XII, 
 
 <c time they make their Neft (as the wife 
 obferve) and prefentiy endeavouring to 
 cc propagate their Kind, they beget Pride 
 u and Luxury , which are no fpurious If- 
 fC fues, but their true and legitimate Gff- 
 <e fpring. Whoever permit thefe Children 
 « of Wealth to come to Maturity within 
 <c them, they foon bring forth thofe impla- 
 cable Tyrants in their Souls, Contumely , 
 u Injujlice , and Impudence Ӥ. Now, Hiftory 
 will inform us, that in all Empires a fimi- 
 lar Depravity of Tafte for Arts and Sci- 
 ences and natural Beauty, has ever attend- 
 ed a national Corruption of Morals. In 
 the glorious and virtuous Part of the Ro- 
 man Republic under the Confuls, what 
 admirable Edifices were erected for pub- 
 lic Ufe, fuch as Temples for the Wor~ 
 fhip of the Gods, Senate-Houfes, ' Grana- 
 ries and Aquasdudts ! In the Sink of Vice 
 under the Emperors, we hear of expenfive 
 Maufoleums, immenfe Circufies, fplen- 
 
 did 
 
 § O v cPn iyj* \oyi^oynvo<; evpsiv oiov, &c. Longin. 
 is, Subiim. Page 24.8. Edit, Pearce. 
 
LETTER XII. ?5 
 
 did Amphitheatres, (lately Columns dedi- 
 cated to Monitors who difg rac’d their 
 Species, and many other taftdefs Won- 
 ders built for the Gratification of human 
 Vanity. From hence I am inclinable to 
 think the Ruins now before us were ereCt- 
 ed in the Age immediately preceding, or 
 in that of Zenobia herfelfj when the 
 fplendid Corinthian only could fatisfy 
 the Luxury of the Times, which had 
 eradicated thatTafie for Propriety as other- 
 wife would have been occafionally de- 
 lighted with the milder Charms of the 
 Doric Order. Neverthelefs confidering 
 a true Tafte for Architecture mull have 
 preceded this indiferiminate Magnificence, 
 and that many of thefe Buildings too are 
 not only Inftances of great Science, but 
 likewife often applied with great Proprie- 
 ty (for Inftance, among others, the great 
 Temple) I could not help falling into the 
 fame kind of Reflection as Sulpicius 
 makes, in his Letter to Cicero §, on 
 G 3 feeing* 
 
 § The humane Sulpicius thus apoftrophizes himfelf, af- 
 ter the Reflexion. Hem! nos homunculi indignamur, 
 
 ii 
 
86 LETTER XII. 
 
 feeing, in his Voyage from Asia, the 
 Ruins of jRgina, Megara, the Pi- 
 raeus, and Corinth. Shall fuch in - 
 confiderable Creatures as my f elf, (faid I) 
 repine at any little private Lofs , when at 
 one View I behold the ajlonijking Magni- 
 ficence of fo many hundred Families , and 
 the v aft public Structures of a mighty King - 
 dom,allin Ruins before me?— Indeed, Phi- 
 lemon, I begin to be adiam’d that you 
 ever heard me murmur !— I am now go- 
 ing with a Party of feledf Friends of both 
 Sexes to take a Tour of Pleafure to feveral 
 Seats in the North of — — fieire. When I 
 return, you may rely upon receiving free 
 and impartial Obfervations upon what we 
 fee there, in the manner you delight in, 
 when you deiire me to give you my flow 
 of Soul Adieu, my dear Friend, and 
 
 continue 
 
 fi quis rioflrum interiit, aut occifus eft, quorum vita bre- 
 vier die debet, cum uno loco tot oppidum cadavera pro- 
 jefta jaceant VVifne tu te, Serwi, cohibere , et mcmvijfe, 
 bothintm te ejfe natum ?• Epift, lib. 4. epift. 5. 
 
'LETTER XII. 87 
 
 continue to do me the Juftice of thinking 
 that my Heart always flows from my 
 Tongue and Pen, efpecially when I fay 
 how much I am. 
 
 Your, See. &c» 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ 3 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 To Leonora. 
 
 J O Y to you, my dear Leonora, upon 
 the Accomplifhment of all your own 
 Wifhes, and thofe of a Man who I be- 
 lieve is as dear to you as yourfelf ; at lead: 
 of one whofe Happinefs is neceffary to 
 conftitute yours. You are now enter’d 
 into that State from whence, as our great 
 Poet fays, 
 
 xt Relations dear, and all the Charities 
 
 Of Father, Son, .and Brother, firft were known, f 
 
 Give me leave therefore, as the tie of 
 Blood betwixt us may in fome meafure 
 authorize the Freedom, and the Friend- 
 fhip we have always had for each other dill 
 more, to mix with the unfeign’d Joy of 
 Congratulation, the unreflrainable Ten- 
 dernefs of a Brother, and Concern of a 
 
 Friend, 
 
 f Par. Loll, Book the 4th, 
 
LETTER XIII. 89 
 
 Friend, in giving my Advice to you in 
 this Scene of Happinefs. Nor think it 
 any Reflection upon the ftrength of your 
 Heart, that I fhould imagine 1 could any 
 way contribute to your Felicity by Ad- 
 monition, which is not concerning your 
 Prudence, (for, to free you at once from 
 any pain of that fort, I really think it in- 
 capable of Improvement) but relating to 
 the Obfervation of feme inferior Excel- 
 lencies, which with the generality of your 
 Sex have paft unregarded, but, give me 
 leave to fay, are as effen daily neceflary to 
 preferve a Hufband’s Defires , as the more 
 refpedtable Duties of a Wife. ’Tis not 
 enough that a Woman is a faithful dome- 
 flic Friend, fhe fhould daily ftudy to in- 
 vert herfelf with a hundred little enchanting 
 Graces, fuitable to the Difpofition of the 
 Man fhe marries, if (he would flill retain 
 thofe unfpeakable Charm's, conceived only 
 by Lovers, with which fhe originally cap- 
 tivated his Heart. This grand Secret, my 
 daar Sifter, lies in this Ihort Precept, 
 
 Never 
 
9 o L E~T TER XIII. 
 
 Never lofe the Miftrefs in the Wife ; a T ext 
 of Bullion Senfe, which an Effay Writer 
 would wire-draw into twenty glittering 
 Pages. But as my Defign is, not to gain 
 your Applaufe of my talent as a Writer, 
 but to give a hint for the Promotion of 
 your Happinefs ; to fay more will be un- 
 neceflarv, to fay lefs would be unaffec- 
 tionate. I know fome of our Friends 
 would rally me for laying fo great a llrefs 
 upon minute Embellifhments of Mind and 
 Body; but I would foon flop the Laugh- 
 ter of thofe Gain-fayers by the following 
 Fable, the Truth of whofe Moral is as 
 old and certain as the Foundation of the 
 World, tho’ the Story is my own Inven- 
 tion. Psyche, a Virgin born in the 
 Ifland of Cyprus, grew enamour’d of 
 Cupid the Son of Venus. After making, 
 fome unfuccefsful Attempts to infpire the 
 little God with a mutual Paflion, fhe re- 
 tired from the World to vent her Com- 
 plaints in melancholy Solitude. There 
 dwelt not far from Paphos, the Metro- 
 polis of the Country, a Nymph called 
 
 Taste, 
 
LETTER XIII. 91 
 
 Tastf, a Daughter of one of the Graces.* 
 to whom the Virtues, Arts, Sciences, 
 and even the Goddess of the Ifland her- 
 felf often reforted. For without the Af- 
 fiftance of fome fecret Charms fhe be- 
 flowed upon them, tho’ they perhaps 
 might fometimes coldly fatisfy the World, 
 their Endeavours to enchant it were always 
 ineffectual. Hither Psyche repaired, and 
 having difcovered the Caufe ofherUneafl- 
 nefs, fupplicated the Nymph in the mo ft 
 humble manner to relieve her Diftreffes. 
 Taste, who never refus’d to comply 
 
 9 
 
 with the Petitions of her flncere Votaries, 
 heard the Virgin’s Requeft with Com- 
 paffion, and having made up a Zone of 
 the fame Materials with which fhe had 
 formerly compofed the Ceftus of Venus, 
 gave it her with the following Injunctions. 
 t£ Take, faid fhe, my dear Psyche, this 
 8C magic Zone, and wear it perpetually 
 ?c round you, from whofe latent Folds 
 “ fuch an unfpeakable Power fhall be 
 s< added to your natural Charms, that the 
 difdainful God of foft Delires fhall not 
 
 only 
 
92 LETTER XIII. 
 
 “ only be captivated with your Beauty, 
 ec asfoon as he fees you, but fhall be re- 
 u tained in a voluntary and pleafurable 
 c< Bondage as long as you preferve this 
 myfterious Pledge of my Affedtion. 
 <c Take the ftridtefl Care therefore of this 
 <e ineftimable Treafure, for Ihould you 
 * c thro’ Negledt be fo unfortunate to lofe 
 u it, Cupid has Wings and will make 
 <c ufe of them to leave you.” Let it be 
 fufficient to fay, that Psyche bound the 
 Zone round her Waift, and accordingly 
 fo far fucceeded in her Wifhes, that 
 Hymen in his Saffron Robe foon pro- 
 nounced a happy Union betwixt her and 
 the Son of Venus. Days, Weeks, and 
 Months palTed on in uninterrupted circles 
 of ftili increafing Raptures. If Psyche 
 went into the Meadows and Groves to 
 tade the Tribute of the returning Spring, 
 Cupid was ever ready to wanton before 
 her, and fill her Lap with the choiced 
 Flowers and Blolfoms. If die was in- 
 clinable in the heat of Summer to vifit 
 
 the 
 
LETTER XIII. 93 
 
 the Rivers and Fountains, his Image 
 was conftantly mixed with hers in the 
 floating Mirror. Psyche began now to 
 think her Zone ufelefs, and a trouble- 
 fome Incumbrance ; therefore being one 
 Day fatigued with the ufual Sports of 
 the Country, fhe loofened the gol- 
 den Studs with which it was fattened 
 round her Waitt, and threw it difdain- 
 fully into the palling River. Very few 
 Days patted after this, before fhe per- 
 ceived a viflbie Alteration in the Af- 
 fections of her adored Cupid ; his Eyes 
 no longer languifhed on hers with in- 
 effable Defire ; his Ears ceafed, as they 
 were wont, to be ravifhed with the 
 Mufic of her Tongue j and a civil In- 
 difference foon fucceeded to the here- 
 tofore glowing Language of Extacy. 
 By degrees her Company grew every 
 Day more and more difpleafing to 
 him, till at length a total Difguft 
 ving feized his Fancy, he fpread his 
 . Ay Wings in Air, and for ever left 
 2 the 
 
LETTER XIII, 
 
 94 
 
 the detefted Habitation of his once be- 
 loved Psyche. 
 
 Pray deliver my Congratulations upon 
 this happy Occafion to Aristus your- 
 felf, and then I am fure they will not 
 fail of being acceptable. 
 
 1 am i 
 
 Dear Leonora, 
 
 With the great eft Sincerity y 
 Tours , &c. &c* 
 
 LETTER 
 
t 95 1 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 If T gave me uncommon Pleafure that 
 A mv Fable of Admonition 'was fo well 
 
 j 
 
 received by you and Aristtjs. Indeed, 
 Leonora, I can never think my Time 
 better fpent, than when I am employed 
 in the Promotion of Happinefs in a Heart, 
 fo capable of every virtuous and elegant 
 Sentiment as your own. I mu ft confefs, 
 I had an Intention of fending you an Epi- 
 thaiamium on your Wedding Day, but 
 when I began to exprefs myfelf with the 
 tendered Concern, andmoft ardent Wifhes 
 for your Happinefs, I found the Mufes, 
 who are habituated to Fiction, were fo 
 unpropitious to unpoetical Truth, that, at 
 the Conclufion of two or three honeft 
 Stanzas, I was obliged to drop my Pen, 
 and offer up, in the Room of it, a free Li- 
 bation of the Tears of Joy to the God of 
 Marriage. However, as it was not then 
 in my Power to amufe you with any 
 
 Poetry 
 
 j 
 
96 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Poetry of my own Compofition, I fhall 
 now take the Liberty to fend you with- 
 out any Apology an old Song, wrote 
 above a hundred Years ago, upon a fimi- 
 lar Gccafion, by the happy Bridegroom 
 himfelf. And tho’ this old Song has been 
 fo little heard of, and as yet introduced 
 into no modern Collection, I dare venture 
 to pronounce there is in it more genuine 
 Poetry, eafy Turn of Thought, Elegance 
 of DiCtion, Delicacy of Sentiment, Tender- 
 nefs of Heart, and natural Tafte for Hap- 
 pinefs, than in all the Compoiitions of 
 this Sort, I ever read, in any Language. 
 But as you and Aristus have the fame 
 way of thinking as this happy Bard, he’ll 
 prefently raife by Sympathy an Admirer 
 in each of your Breafls, and it is unne- 
 cessary for me to befpeak your Favour 
 any farther. 
 
 A SONG 
 
LETTER XIV. 
 
 97 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 i. 
 
 A W A Y, let nought to Love difpleafing, 
 My Winifreda, move thy Fear, 
 -Let nought delay tho heav’nly Bleffing, 
 
 Nor fqueamifh, Pride, nor gloomy Care, 
 
 II. 
 
 What tho’ no Grants of Royal Donors 
 With pompous Titles grace our Blood, 
 We’ll fhine in more fubftantial Honours, 
 And to be noble we’ll be good. 
 
 III. 
 
 What tho’ from Fortune’s lavifh Bounty 
 No mighty Treafures we poftefs. 
 
 We’ll find within our Pittance Plenty, 
 
 And be content without Excefs. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Still fhall each kind returning Seafon, 
 Sufficient for our Wifhes give, 
 
 For we will live a Life of Reafon, 
 
 And that’s the only Life to live, 
 
 V. 
 
 Our Name, whilft Virtue thus we tender, 
 Shall fweetly found where e’er ’tis fppke. 
 And all the Great Ones much fhall wonder. 
 How they admire fuch little Folk, 
 
 H 
 
 VI. Thro* 
 
9 § 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Thro’ Youth and Age in Love excelling. 
 
 We’ll hand in hand together tread. 
 
 Sweet fmiling Peace ihall crown our Dwelling, 
 
 And Babes, fweet fmiling Babes our Bed. 
 
 VII. 
 
 How (hould I love the pretty Creatures, 
 
 Whilft round my Knees they fondly clung. 
 
 To fee ’em look their Mother’s Features, 
 
 To hear ’em lifp their Mother’s Tongue! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And when with Envy Time tranfported 
 Shall think to rob us of our joys. 
 
 You’ll in your Girls again be courted. 
 
 And I go wooing in my Boys. 
 
 May all the Prophetic Feelings of 
 future Joys contained in this Song 
 fall to the Lot of you and yours ! 
 But above all, may fweet fmiling Peace 
 fpread her Olive Branches over your 
 Door, and yourfelves thofe other Olive 
 
 Bratjches round your Table! My 
 
 Spirits have been very low of late, 
 which I attribute to beholding fre- 
 quently 
 
I 
 
 LETTER XIV, 
 
 99 
 
 quently fome Objeds of Diftrefs about 
 me. If therefore my Malady is owing 
 either to corporeal or mental Sympa- 
 thy, I don’t know where I can find 
 a furer Remedy than under the fame 
 Roof with you and Aristus. So 
 you may exped a Patient very foon. 
 I am, 
 
 Tour, &c. &c* 
 
 H 2 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ *00 ] 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 To Euphemius, 
 
 I Have been as often enraged, Euphe- 
 mius, as yourfelf, at the trite, dull, 
 and falfe Obfervation, often made by the 
 half-witted Pretenders to Learning, that 
 we have no poetical Genius left among 
 us. How far this taftelefs Prejudice againft 
 our own Times, may tend to extinguilh 
 what we have, I know not ; but certain I 
 am, that, if this ftupid Reverence for 
 whatever was the Productions of our An- 
 ceftors, and the more irrational -f and 
 
 indifcri- 
 
 ■f- This Failing is by no means totally peculiar to our 
 prefent Age, (tho’ perhaps now carried higher than it ever 
 was in any other;) for Horace makes the fame Com- 
 plaint of the Romans in his Time, in his Epiftle to 
 Augustus. The Poet after having ingenioufly to his 
 Patron fhewed the Injury and Abfurdity of the Practice, 
 cries out, 
 
 Indignor quicquam reprehendi, non quia crafie 
 Compofitum, illepideve putetur, fed quia nuper. 
 
 If the Reader would fee one of the mod ingenious critical 
 
 Performances ever publilhed, I refer him to Mr. H *s 
 
 Notes and Commentary on this Epidle. 
 
101 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 indifcriminate negledt of our Contempo- 
 raries prevail, we fhall be ftigmatifed 
 by our more difcerning Succeffors as the 
 leaden Sons of Boeotia were of old. 
 For my Part, I am of opinion, that there 
 is now living a Poet of the mo ft genuine 
 Genius this Kingdom ever produced, 
 Shakespear alone excepted. By poeti- 
 cal Genius, I don’t mean the meer talent 
 of making Verfes , but that glorious Enthu- 
 fiafm of Soul, that fine Frenzy , as Shake- 
 spear calls it, rolling fromHeaven toEarth , 
 from Earth to Heaven , which, like an 
 able Magician, can bring every Objedt of 
 the Creation in any Shape whatever before 
 the Reader’s Eyes. This alone is Poetry, 
 aught elfe is a mechanical Art of putting 
 Syllables harmonioufly together. The 
 Gentleman I mean is Doctor Ak inside, 
 the worthy Author of the Pleajures of 
 Imagination , the mo ft beautiful didtadtic 
 Poem that ever adorned the Englifti or 
 any other Language, A Work in which 
 the great Author has united Virgil’s 
 Tafie, Milton’s Colouring, and Shake- 
 H 3 spear’s 
 
102 LETTER XV. 
 
 spear’s incidental Expreflion, with a 
 Warmth peculiar to himfelf, to paint 
 the fine ft Features of the human Mind, 
 and the moft lovely Forms of true Reli- 
 gion and Morality. Befides this Leader 
 of the Mufe ' s Train, we have others now 
 living, who, in their refpedtive Compo- 
 fitions, leave not only all our deceafed 
 Poets, and thofe of France and Italy 
 far behind them, but even bear the Palm 
 away from any of their Competitors of 
 ancient Rome $ and, as Homer defcribes 
 in his Games the Steeds of Diomedes 
 preffing clofe on the Chariot ofEuMELUS,J 
 
 (“ Clofe on Eumelus’ Back they puff’d the Wind, 
 
 ** And feem’d juft mounting on his car behind, 
 
 “ Full on his Neck he feds the fultry Breeze, 
 
 “ And hov’ring o’er their ftretching fliadow fees) 
 
 Pope’s Tranll. 
 
 they breathe in the Race even on the Shoul- 
 ders of their Grecian Matters. I fhould 
 not hefitate a moment to prefer the Elegy 
 in a Country Church-Yard, written by 
 Mr. Gray, of Peter- Hoifie in Cambridge , 
 to the beft Performance, in that kind, of 
 
 Ovid, 
 
 } Iliad. 
 
LETTER XV. 103 
 Ovid, Tibullus, or Propertius. Has 
 Horace any Moral Ode equal to Mr. 
 Nugent's Ode to Mankind, or any de- 
 fcriptive one to Mr. Collins's Ode to the 
 Evening ? Mr. Jos. Warton’s Ode to 
 Fancy would not fuffer by the fame 
 Comparifon. 1 fhould pay Mr, Mason 
 no Compliment to compare all the Excel- 
 lencies in Seneca together to his elegant 
 El.fr iDA j nor do I think I fhould at 
 all degrade the Athenian Stage to fay, 
 that the Palm of tragic Glory hangs 
 wav'ring betwixt the conjoined Merit 
 of Sophocles’s Philoctetes and the 
 •f* Oedipus Coloneus , and this modern Tra- 
 gedy, did not Shakespear, like a Cham- 
 pion of old infpired by all the Gods, ftep 
 majeftically in to bear it away by fuper- 
 natural Power from the utmoft Force of 
 human Abilities. I dare fay his Monody 
 H 4 on 
 
 f I hope private Friendship does not prepoffefs my 
 Judgment in thinking our Language will be enrich’d, 
 in a Year or two hence, by an elegant Tranflation of 
 Sophocles, now preparing for the Public, by that 
 worthy Man and ingenious Writer Mr. Franklin, 
 ProfelTor of Greek in the Univerfity of Cambridge, 
 
io 4 L E T T E R XV. 
 on the Death of Mr, Pope, wherein he 
 has imitated the Stile of four of our 
 Englijh Poets, has given you and every 
 Man of true Tafte, more Pleafure than 
 the joined Efforts of all the Wits in the 
 celebrated Court of Leo the Tenth *j*. 
 There is another little Piece written by 
 the fame Author, which has no Rival 
 in the Court of Augustus, entitled an 
 Ode to a Water Nymph . Thefe Opinions 
 you’ll fay, are very bold ones to give under 
 my Hand ; but as I think I can fupport 
 them by juft Criticifm, I fhall not fear 
 the mifplac’d Imputation of being par- 
 ticular , for I am fure I fhall not ftand 
 alone in my judgment. I dare fay 
 Amelia will be pleafed at my warm 
 Defence of her favorite Poets, and pray 
 
 tell 
 
 •f- Thefe Imitations of the ancient Roman Poets Fami- 
 akus Strada has preferved in his Acadetnical Prolujions , 
 where the Stiles of Lucan, Lucretius, Claudian, 
 Ovid, Statius, and Virgil, are imitated by Janus 
 Parrhasius, Peter Bembo,BalthasarCastilionius, 
 Hercules Strozza, Jovianus Pontanus, and An- 
 dreas Naugerius, as he latinizes their Names. Lib. 2, 
 Proluf. 60 
 
LETTER XV. 
 
 105 
 
 tell her I (hall efteem her Approbation 
 equal to the Applaufe of the French Aca- 
 demy of Sciences, and would prefer to 
 being a Member of that illuftrious Society 
 the pleafure of fubfcribing myfelf hers and 
 
 Tours , &c. &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
( io6 ) 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 To Philethes. 
 
 F OND as I am, Philethes, of 
 the Entertainment of the Theatre, 
 believe me I have lately received an Ad- 
 dition to this favourite Pleafure, and fuch 
 a one as you would have participated in 
 very greatly with me. This was no lefs 
 than a total Vidory over that invete- 
 rate Prejudice of our old Acquain- 
 tance Mi lotos, who (like the old De- 
 bauchee in Gil Blas that thought the 
 Works even of Nature daily decay’d) has 
 fo frequently maintain’d that the Facul- 
 ties of Mankind are much inferior to 
 what they were in the lafi: Generation. 
 The old Gentleman, you know, till this 
 Winter, has not been in Town thefe 
 twenty Years, and confequently totally 
 ignorant of the late Reftoration of Nature 
 in the Reprefentation of Tragedy, When 
 T mention’d my defire of waiting on him 
 to the Play, he affented to my Propofal 
 with his ufual Chearfulnefs, but at the 
 
 fame 
 
LETTER XVI. 107 
 
 fame time fpoke with wonderful Rapture 
 oPBetterton, Powejll and Verbrug- 
 gen, and feem’d to infinuate that he 
 fhould neceffarily triumph in the Superio- 
 rity of his Contemporaries over the mo- 
 dern Heroes of the Bufkin. But judge 
 what was my Satisfaction after the Play 
 was over at his pleafureable Difappoint- 
 ment, when he ingenuoufly confefs’d, that 
 Garrick was not only the belt ACtor 
 he ever faw, but even exceeded the ut- 
 moft Conceptions he had form’d of Thea- 
 trical Excellence. It has been a pe- 
 culiar Misfortune in the Reprefentation 
 of Modern Tragedy, that the SubjeCls of 
 it, by being moftly royal Per fon ages, were 
 remov’d by their Rank from the com- 
 mon Obfervation of Mankind ; fo that 
 our firft Players, being totally unacquaint- 
 ed with the Characters, perhaps notably 
 imagin’d that Princes were of a fuperior 
 Species to their Subjects, and therefore as 
 Bays made his Spirits talk unintelligibly, 
 they thought their imaginary Heroes 
 they had as little Conception of, 
 
 as 
 
io8 LETTER XVI. 
 
 as the Rehearfal Poet had of aerial Be- 
 ings) fhould mouth every Sentence inarti- 
 culately. The Generality of Audiences 
 are no more converfant with the Origi- 
 nals than the Players themfelves ; fo they 
 took this preternatural Way of fpeaking 
 as infeparable from the Character of Ma- 
 jefty, till by Degres, as Prior obferves 
 upon another Occafion, 
 
 “ Cuftom confirm'd what Fancy had begun.” 
 
 and the deep-ton’d Monotony became 
 the folemn Manner of fpeaking Tragedy. 
 This was the Situation in which this 
 great Genius found the Stage about four- 
 teenYears ago, who, being blefs’d with every 
 internal and external Qualification for re- 
 prefenting human kind in all its Subordi- 
 nations ; having, on the one hand, a found 
 Judgment, an elegant Tafte, a lively Fan- 
 cy, with the moft penetrating Difcern- 
 ment into theinmoft Recedes of the Heart ; 
 and, on the other, an exprefiive Counte- 
 nance, an Eye full of Luftre, a fine Ear, 
 a moft mufical and articulate Voice, with 
 an uncommon Power to modulate it with 
 
 eafe 
 
LETTER XVI. 109 
 eafy to every Tranfttion of Paflion, he re- 
 ftor’d Nature to her loft Empire upon 
 the Stage, and taught us by the Convic- 
 tion of our fympathizing Souls, that Kings 
 themfelves were Men, and felt like the 
 reft of their Species. — From a Line in 
 Horace’s Epiftle to Augustus, I am 
 inclinable to think that Roscius was 
 among the Romans what Garrick is 
 amongft us, and that Quin likewife in 
 Contradiftindion may be confider’d as the 
 Modern Assopus. 
 
 Qua gravis iEfopus, quae dodus Rofcius egit. 
 
 In this place the Epithet doBus, contrafted 
 to gravis , the deep Cadence of JEsof, 
 means that Roscius was Jkilful in the 
 Tranfition of one Paflion to another, and 
 had a wonderful Happinefs in accommo- 
 dating himfelf to a Variety of Charaders 
 in Tragedy; whereas Aisopus was foiled 
 only, by his fonorous full Voice and 
 graver Adion, to one particular Species of 
 Charaders. The Epithet gravis , ap- 
 plied to /Esopus, has led the Commenta- 
 tors 
 
no LETTER XVI. 
 tors into a Miftake concerning the Ta- 
 lents of Roscius: they imagine, becaufe 
 the one is call’d the deep-cadenc'd Ador, 
 that the other in Contradiftindion mud 
 have been only an Ador of Comedies. Their 
 Authority for fuch a Suppofition feems to 
 be this Sentence of Quinctilian. Ro- 
 scius citatior , iEsopus gravior , quod 
 tile comes diets y hie tragoe diets egit . J But 
 Quinctilian, confidering the diftance 
 of Time he liv’d from thefe famous Play- 
 ers, might poflibly know as little of the 
 Matter as themfelves ; but that they were 
 both mi (Taken in this Point may be col- 
 leded from Tully, who celebrates his 
 inimitable Adion as a Tragic Player in the 
 third Book De Oratore , as he had occa- 
 fionally inftanc’d him, in the preceding 
 Books upon the fame Subjed, as the fault- 
 lefs Pattern for the Reprefentation of hu- 
 man Nature in its comic Moods. So ex- 
 cellent was this great Man in the Scenic 
 Art, that his Name at length became, as 
 
 we 
 
 { Lib. ii. cap. 3. 
 
LETTER XVI. m 
 we leafn from the fame Author, the Pro- 
 verbial Criterion of Perfedtion in every 
 Art and Science, infomiich that whoever 
 grew remarkably eminent in any* was 
 call'd the Roscius of his Profeffion. lea- 
 gue hoc jamdiu efl co?ifecutus y ut , in* quo 
 quifque artijicio excelleret , is in Juo gene re 
 Rofcius dicer etur . § Confidering the De- 
 light and Ufe that accrue to a rational 
 Creature, from obferving a natural Repre- 
 fentation of the Paffions by which his 
 own Species is perpetually agitated, and 
 confequently the Effedi that a well-regu- 
 lated Stage muft have upon the Tafte of a 
 whole Nation, 1 am pleas’d that both 
 the Roman and Englijh Roscius have 
 been fo highly applauded and efteem’d in 
 their refpedtive Countries, and that the 
 greateft Men in both have not only been 
 enchanted with ’em upon the Stage, but 
 have taken Delight to rank ’em among 
 their Friends in private Society. — I have 
 
 much 
 
 t Cicer. de Orat. lib, !♦. 
 
H2 LETTER XVI. 
 much to fay to you about fome Italian 
 Buffoonery they are exhibiting at one of 
 our Theatres, but fhall referve that till I 
 have the Pleafure of feeing you, which, I 
 have the Satisfaction to hear, will be very 
 foon. 
 
 I am y &c. &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ IT 3 1 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 To Eugenio. 
 
 G REAT is the Joy I feel, EtfGE^ 
 nio, that you fo highly relifh the 
 Converfation of my Friend Euphemius, 
 more efpecially too as I was the fortu- 
 nate Perfon who introduc’d you to each 
 other, for which, I mu ft infift upon it, 
 you are both of you greatly indebted to 
 me. I think indeed Euphemius is 
 blefs’d with a Grace in Converfation, and 
 a Tajle in Society, fuperior to any Man 
 with whom I ever had the Happinefs of 
 being acquainted. There arifes from the 
 Vivacity of his Fancy, the Delicacy of his 
 Sentiments, and the beautiful tho’ unaffect- 
 ed Arrangement of his Words, deliver’d 
 with aFreedom of Countenance and Sweet- 
 nefs of Voice, fuch an inexpreffible Charm 
 as pleafingly bewitches the Attention of 
 I all 
 
i 4 4 LETTER XVII. 
 
 all who hear him. He can defcant upon 
 ferious Affairs with the moft becoming 
 Air of Gravity and Confideration, with- 
 out the leaft Mixture of Aufterity or 
 Philofophical Affectation ; and in the 
 more eafy Hours of focial Pleafure, he 
 can raife innocent and inftruCtive Mirth 
 from the flighteft Accident that happens, 
 and convert the moft common Subjects 
 Into a thoufand Turns of Wit and Hu- 
 mour. One would imagine that Shake- 
 spear had been acquainted intimately 
 with fuch a Man, when he drew in fo 
 lively a manner the Character of Biron in 
 
 his Love's Labour's loft , 
 
 « _ — A merrier Man, 
 
 “ Within the Limits of becoming Mirth, 
 if I never fpentan Hoar's Talk withal. 
 
 “ His Eye begets Occafion for his Wit ; 
 f( For every Object that the one doth catch, 
 
 “ The other turns to a Mirth-moving Jell, 
 
 “ Which his fair Tongue (Conceit’s Expofitof) 
 
 “ Delivers in fuch apt and gracious Words, 
 
 “ That aged Ears play Truant at his Tales, 
 
 And younger Hearings are quite ravilhed ; 
 
 “ So fweet and voluble is his Difcourfe”. 
 
 Ad i. 
 
 But 
 
LETTER XVII. 
 
 IJ 5 
 
 But his chief Excellence confifts in ad- 
 drefling the Fair, when I have heard flow 
 from him, as Homer phrafes it, 
 
 — ‘■"STS A VKpotcPicuiV iQlKOTO, IV * 
 
 Iliad, lib. T. lin. 222. 
 
 or, as Mr. Pope tranflates it, [Words] 
 
 ** Soft as the Fleeces of defcending S-nows,” 
 
 which beautiful Expreflion Dryden has 
 copied and greatly improv’d, when he 
 applies it to the foft Subjedt I am fpeaking 
 of, making Leonora, in his Spanijh 
 Fryar y defcribe the Addrefles of Tor r is* 
 mond in the following manner ; 
 
 “ But when he fpoke what tender Words he faid, 
 
 “ So foftly, that like Flakes of feather’d Snow 
 ** They melted as they fell. Ad 1 . 
 
 This foftly Breathing the Fervor of one 
 Soul into another, is an Art in which 
 Euphemius is fo happily fkilled, that 
 Injenfibility herfelf, in the fhape of a Wo- 
 man, would almofl: lofe her Nature in 
 hearing him, and perceive the pleafing 
 I 2 Infedtion, 
 
i ]6 LETTER XVII. 
 Jnfedtion, would he attempt the Miracle. 
 
 I have often obferved, that this enchanting 
 turn in Converfation prevails only in thofe 
 of our own Sex, who have converfed 
 much with the more fenfible Part of the 
 other. Otway juflly fays, 
 
 <e We had been Brutes without them ; 
 
 for let a Man’s Erudition be ever fo 
 profound, his Fancy lively, and Judg- 
 ment folid, this Grace, which is not 
 to be defcribed, will be wanting, if 
 his Soul has not been refined, and his 
 Tongue attuned to this fweet Melody 
 by an habitual Intercourfe with thefe fair 
 Preceptors.-— We are told that Voiturb 
 was as remarkably happy in Converfation 
 as in his epiftolary Writings. This 
 muft be attributed to his Intimacy with 
 Madamoifielles Paulet and Rambouil- 
 x.et, and the Countefs de Sable, more 
 than to the Advantage of being a Friend 
 to the learned Costar. A Comparifon 
 
 of 
 
LETTER XVII. 117 
 
 of this Author's Letters with thofe of his 
 Rival Balsac, plainly evinces the truth 
 of this Obfervation. The eafy Air, the 
 happy Sprightlinefs, and elegant Turn of 
 Expreffion in the Compofitions of the 
 former, difcover the Man of the World 
 educated in Courts, and polifh’d by that 
 advantageous Collifion with the brighteft 
 Part of our Species $ whilft laboured 
 Language, and an Affectation in Senti- 
 ment, inform us frequently, without the 
 help of Hiftory, that the other led the 
 life of a Reclufe in the Country. Hence 
 it appears from the different Productions 
 of two Geniufes of equal natural Talents, 
 that more Tafte and Elegance in Writing 
 is to be acquired in a circle of Beauties 
 at Paris, than in a learned Society of 
 Capuchins in a Convent at Angouleme. 
 
 — Pray tell the Ladies at — — that 
 
 I am now more defirous than ever to 
 get a corner in your Heart, as I would 
 have every Place open to me where 
 I 3 they 
 
iiS LETTER XVII. 
 
 they enter ; elpecially where they reign 
 with fuch unlimited Power. This you 
 owe me * for you can never make more 
 room for me there, than you will find 
 for yourfelf in the Heart of 
 
 Tour , &c. &c. 
 
 \ 
 
 LETTER 
 
C ”9 1 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 To Aristus. 
 
 I Have fpent the laft Week, Aristus, 
 in the higheft Luxury a human Soul 
 is capable of receiving. I need not ex- 
 plain what that Luxury was, when I in- 
 form you that I have been with that truly 
 great Man Agathocles at his delightful 
 Seat in the Country ; whofe Accomplifh- 
 ments and refined Humanity ennoble him 
 infinitely more than that high Rank he 
 inherits from a Race of unfullied Ance- 
 ftors. Tho’ Agathocles was born to 
 the firft Honours a Subjed can enjoy, fup- 
 ported by a Fortune few under Princes 
 poflefs, he neither does, nor has occafion 
 to value himfelf upon either, any farther 
 than they empower him to gratify that 
 mofl exquifite of all Senfations, which 
 the glowing Heart receives in relieving our 
 Fellow-Creatures. Did the Great con- 
 I 4 fider 
 
120 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 fider that they might defcend, like the 
 Dew of Heaven, to cherifh defponding 
 Merit, to comfort the Afflidted, to pro- 
 tedl and redrefs the Injured, and to fup- 
 port with chearful Suftenance the help- 
 lefs Poor, furely this Imitation of the 
 moft amiable Attribute belonging to the 
 Almighty, is more worthy of their 
 Ambition than all the mighty Titles the 
 fawning Eaft beftows on it’s haughty 
 Monarchs. The moft glorious Character 
 in all the Mahometan Hiftory is that of 
 Omar, the ninth Caliph of the Race of 
 Merwan. His Life was one continued 
 Adi of Charity and Benevolence ; a happy 
 Prelude of his Reign was feen at his Coro- 
 nation, for Pliftory tells us that he gave 
 from off his Back, as foon as the Cere- 
 jmony of the Inauguration was over, his 
 Imperial Robe adorned with Jewels of 
 an immenfe Value, even as he was de- 
 fending down the Steps from the Throne, 
 as an Alms to be diftributed among the 
 Indigent O Aristus, I more envy 
 
 Omar 
 
LETTER XVIII. 12 i 
 
 Omar this humane Sacrifice of Gran- 
 deur to Benevolence, (for the Adtion may 
 be confidered thus emblematically (than the 
 dazzling Splendor of all the Lords of the 
 vaft Ottoman Empire !■ But to re- 
 
 turn to Agathocles. Whilft I was at 
 his Caftle, which, like the Queen of the 
 Country, overlooks the Subjedt Vales 
 around it, I thought myfelf from the lofty 
 Situation of the Place, and the uncommon 
 Goodnefs that perpetually reigned there, un- 
 der the Protedtion of a Being of a fuperior 
 Order; or not unlike to our firft Parent, 
 as defcribed by Milton, on the Top of 
 a- high Mountain, receiving Inftrudtion 
 from the Angel Michael : and indeed often 
 having entertained my Senfes with the 
 moft defireable Produdtions of Art and 
 Science, and my Heart with the Con- 
 templation of Goodnefs, I could not re- 
 frain from burfting out into poor Adam's 
 Exclamation, 
 
 “ How fhall I part, and whither wander down 
 “ Into a lower World ; to this obfcure, 
 
 “ And wild? how fhall I breathe in other Air 
 f 4 Lefs pure, accuftom’d to immortal Fruits? 
 
 Parad. Loft, Book the xi. 
 
 tho’ 
 
122 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 Tho* the Tafte of this great Man is truly 
 noble and refined in imparadifing (if I 
 may ufe the Word) the Region round 
 him ; in the Collection of his Pictures * 
 in the Oeconomy of his Family ; and the 
 Choice of his Pleafures ; a Tafte for a 
 fuperior Accomplifhment, I mean that 
 Grace of Charity with which he acconv 
 panies every Word or ACt of Benevolence, 
 attracts the more particular Regard of 
 Mankind, yet leaves them in Sufpence to 
 decide which is moft lovely, the Deed of 
 Goodnefs, or the manner of performing it. 
 Without this happy Talent, Munificence 
 ftabs a Dagger into the Breaft of thofe 
 ftie intends to relieve, with one Hand, 
 while fhe extends the Purfe with the 
 other. This will be fully exemplified in 
 the following fhort Story. Pandolfo 
 Malatesta the Sovereign of Rem ini, 
 in the time of Pope Alexander Vlth, 
 was the richeft Prince in Italy, who, 
 after having fpent a defpicable Life in the 
 arms of Luxury, was reduced, by a me- 
 rited 
 
LETTER XVIII. 123 
 
 rited reverfe of Fortune, to feek for an 
 Afylum at laft in a common Hofpital at 
 Bologna. The Account goes, that 
 this Tyrant, for fuch he was, being ex- 
 pelled from his Dominions, and perfe- 
 cted by his Enemies, in pain and want 
 fled to the above-mentioned City, where 
 at that very Time dwelt a Nobleman 
 named Pietro del Saccio, a Native 
 of Remini, whofome few Years before 
 had been driven from his Country by 
 the Tyranny of Malatesta, who un- 
 juftly feized upon all his Pofleffions in 
 that Principality, and put many of his 
 Family to the Sword. When word was 
 brought to this Nobleman, that the late 
 Ufurper was now in his Power, and that 
 he might revenge thofe Injuries by deli- 
 vering him up to CiEs ar Borgia, or by 
 killing him with his own Hand, the ex- 
 afperated Italian with ingenious Malice 
 replied, <c Yes, I will now fully revenge 
 c< the Injuries I have fuftained ; I will do 
 “ more than kill Pandolfo, for I 
 
 will 
 
 <c 
 
124 LETTER XVIII. 
 ic will order him to be carried to the 
 cc Hofpital I endowed myfelf, and let the 
 <c Tyrant know that the wretched Means 
 <c of protrading a miferable Being, is 
 “ owing to the Bounty of Pietro del 
 
 <c Saccio/’ Such Cruelty will always 
 
 attend ill-conduded Bounty, however 
 otherwife intended ! yet methinks Nature 
 leads us fo ftrongly to adminifler every 
 Application of Humanity, with that lenient 
 Hand fo requifite to make even Relief ac- 
 ceptable to an ingenuous Mind, that I 
 wonder a proper manner does not always 
 accompany a charitable Adion ; nay far- 
 ther, I am inclinable to think, where it 
 does not, the Deed cannot proceed from 
 a tender Sympathy of a Fellow-Creature’s 
 Diftrefs, but from an Oftentation of 
 fuperfluous Poffeffions. Of all Tafte may 
 Heaven beftow on me chiefly this ! that 
 when I rock the Cradle of the Orphan, or 
 wipe the gufhing Tear from the Eyes of 
 the Widow, I may adminifler both in fo 
 filent a manner, that neither they flhould 
 feel the Pain of receiving, nor the tainting 
 
 Breath 
 
LETTER XVHI. 125 
 
 Breath of the World’s Promulgation di- 
 fturb the quiet Purpofe of my Heart, 
 brooding over it’s unfpeakable Tranfport 
 infacred Secrecy! My Love to Leonora, 
 to whom I ought to add fomething in 
 anfwer to her laft Letter ; but Ideas of 
 Compaffion are now work’d up fo ftrongly 
 in my Mind, and thofe Dew-drops of Ten- 
 dernefs y as £he called them (when I wept 
 over the little Foundling nurs’d at a neigh- 
 bouring Cottage) rife fo plentifully that I 
 muft abruptly fubfcribe myfelf 
 
 Tour , &c, &c. 
 
 LETTER 
 
{ 126 ] 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 To Critophilus. 
 
 I Very readily concur in your Opinion, 
 Critophilus, that a Work of Cri- 
 ticifm is the moft difficult to be executed 
 with a proper Tafte of any literary Com- 
 pofition whatever. There is fomething 
 fo repugnant to the Pride of Mankind in 
 general, fomething fo detractive from the 
 fuppofed Sagacity of every Reader, to pre- 
 tend to inform by the dry Method of Pre- 
 cept, that except an Author has all the 
 Delicacy and artful Addrefs imaginable, 
 to feem to accompany the Judgments of 
 of thofe he writes for, rather than to lead 
 them into Difcoveries, in fuch a Per- 
 formance, he will meet with that kind of 
 contemptuous Treatment, which thofe 
 good-natured People receive, who are 
 ready to give their unafk’d Advice in the 
 common Concerns of Life upon every Oc- 
 cafion. It is highly neceffiiry therefore, 
 
 m 
 
LETTER XIX. 127 
 
 in fuch kind of Writings, to JacriJice libe- 
 rally to the Graces, without whofe In- 
 fpiration Learning will there degenerate 
 into Pedantry, and the Precepts even of 
 Wifdom pafs unreliihed. An Author of 
 a dida&ic Piece cannot be too circumfpeft, 
 not only in the pleafing manner of addreffi- 
 ing his Reader, but in the inferior Parti 
 too of Compofition, that the Choice of 
 his Words, and the Arrangement of his 
 Periods, may adorn, and not degrade the 
 Delicacy of his Subject. For want of 
 this Refinement we have many lamen- 
 table Inftances of able Scholars having fuc- 
 ceeded very ill in Works, where they have 
 betrayed the greateft want ofTalle and 
 Genius, whilft they were unfortunately 
 laborious in endeavouring to point out thofe 
 Excellencies in others. I need go no far- 
 ther for aProof of this than Mr. Anthony* 
 Blackwall’s -j- Introduction to the 
 
 Clajjics . 
 
 f He was a SchoolmaHer at $crbj. His Book was 
 jpubliihed Ln 17 18, 
 
128 Letter xix,- 
 
 daffies. This Man was what is generally 
 
 called a good Scholar, that is, he was gra- 
 
 matically Mafter of the two dead Lan-* 
 
 guages Greek and Latin , and had read 
 
 over all the ancient Authors in both ; but 
 % 
 
 not having by Nature or Acquifition that 
 happy Tafte of diftinguifhing Beauties, 
 nor a Digeftion (if I may fo fay) to affimi- 
 late the Senfe of others into his own 
 Underftanding, his Conceptions were as 
 crude as his Addrefs and Stile were un- 
 pleafing. I remember the good old School- 
 mafter, for fuch he was, in one place in- 
 forms us, fpeaking of Herodotus and 
 Livy, that cc thefe two Princes of Greek 
 <c and Roman Hiftory, tell a Story , and 
 £c make up a Defcription with inexprefiible 
 Grace ; and fo delicately mix great and 
 <c little Circumftances, that there is both 
 cc the utmoft Dignity and Pleafure in 
 * c it”J. I leave you to animadvert on the 
 Groffnefs of thefe Metaphors, and pafs on 
 
 to 
 
 % Indrod. to the Claf. p. *6. 
 
LETTER XIX. 129 
 
 to a Specimen both of wretched Writing, 
 and undiftinguifhing Tafte. Having fpoke 
 much about the infufficiency of modern 
 Tranflators, to give us the Senfe of ancient 
 Authors, he goes on thus: “ Befides the 
 <c weakening of the Senfe (tho’ that be 
 cc far the moft important Confideration) 
 <c Greek and hat in have fuch a noble 
 <c Harmony of Sound, fuch Force and Dig- 
 <c nity of Numbers, and fuch Delicacy of 
 <£ turn in the Periods, that cannot entirely 
 <c be preferved in any Language in the 
 u World. The two Languages are fo 
 <c peculiarly fufceptive of all the Graces 
 <c of Wit and Elocution, that they are 
 £C read with more Pleafure and lively 
 <c Guft, and confequently with more 
 <c Advantage, than the moft perfect Tran- 
 (i flation the ableft Genius can compofe, 
 <c or the ftrongeft modern Language can 
 u bear” Now befides the auk ward 
 Diftion, and unharmonious Clofe of the 
 K Period, 
 
 ’ IM- p. 57. 
 
i 3 o LETTER XIX. 
 
 Period, (two Faults he reafonably might 
 be expedted to avoid, when the juftly ad- 
 mired Ancients were fo ftrongiy in his 
 Mind) he has huddled together his undi- 
 ftinguifhed Commendations of the Greek 
 and Latin , and fo unjuftly given the Pre- 
 ference of the latter to our own copious 
 Language, with that trite profound air of 
 ridiculous Erudition, as mu ft unavoidably 
 have thofe Effedts upon his different Read- 
 ers, which Mr. Pope defcribes in his in- 
 comparable EJfay on Criticifm , 
 
 “ Such labour’d nothings in fo grave a Stile, 
 
 “ Amaze th’ unlearn'd, and make the learned fmile.” 
 
 But let the Peace of Dulnefs brood over 
 fuch Lumber, and let us turn our Eyes to 
 a more delightful Objedt, the revival of 
 the true Spirit of ancient Criticifm in the 
 Works of fome illuftrious modern Geni- 
 ufes, who tread in the Steps of their ador’d 
 Matters as far as they went, and then 
 penetrate deeper into the Laurel Grove 
 of Science than any of their Predeceffors 
 
 ever 
 
LETTER XIX. 131 
 ever ventur’d. The firft I (hall mention 
 is the great Author -f of Refedliojjs Criti- 
 ques fur la Peinture et la Poefie ; a Work, 
 which, in the Hands of an ordinary Writer, 
 would have been an unentertaining String 
 of dry Reflections upon thofe Arts only, 
 but under the Magic of his mafterly Pen, 
 comprehends the mod judicious Obfer va- 
 rious upon every Idea of the human Mind, 
 in each Ample and complicated Appear- 
 ance. The next is the ingenious Author 
 of the Enquiry into the Life and Writings 
 c/'Homer in which he has clearly de- 
 monftrated by irrefragable Rea Tons, drawn 
 from a Conjunction of moral and natural 
 Caufes, that fuch a Poet never could arife 
 flnce him in the fpace of two thoufand 
 feven hundred Years, for want of that 
 happy Concurrence of Circumftances, with- 
 out which even this immortal Genius him- 
 
 K 2 felf 
 
 =f Monfr. l’Abbe du Eos. 
 
 % Mr. El a Scotch Gentleman, who labours 
 
 under the misfortune to have a fimilar Name to the 
 Schoolmate above- cited. 
 
3 2 LETTER XIX. 
 
 felf might have been in an inferior Rank 
 of the Mufes Train. The lated that has 
 improved our Tade and enriched our Lan- 
 guage, is the elegant Writer * of thofe 
 injlruElive Notes , and entertaining Com- 
 mentary on Horace’s two critical Epi- 
 files, the one to the Pisos, commonly 
 called the Art of Poetry , the other to 
 Augustus ; to the latter of which is 
 fubjoined a Difccwfe on Poetical Imita- 
 tion , wherein he has nobly defended the 
 Caufe of congenial Fancies in all Ages, 
 againfl the ill-grounded Clamor of popu- 
 lar Ignorance and Envy, with the deep 
 Spirit of Philofophy, and the warm Zeal 
 of a Lover.— -We find in the Works of 
 thefe great Men, a pleafing Power of ren- 
 dering every Subject interefling to the 
 human Pleart, by bringing home to our 
 Breads Objedls feemingly the mod re?- 
 mote, and uniting a Train of captivating 
 Circumdances, arifing naturally out of 
 their Plans, which animates all their 
 
 Writings^ 
 
 f Mr. H 
 
 4 qf Emanuel College, Cambridge* 
 
LETTER XIX. 133 
 
 Writings, not unlike the amiable Group 
 of Figures in one of Poussin’s Landfcapes, 
 which gives a filent LefTon of Morality 
 unawares to the Beholder, who no more 
 than the Shepherds in the Pidture, § ima- 
 gin’d to find, in that Arcadian Scene, 
 any thing but fhady Groves, clear Foun- 
 tains, verdant Meadows, and other com- 
 K 3 mon 
 
 § The Picture here hinted at is defcrib’d by the inge- 
 nious Abbe du Bos above-mention’d, whieh I will give 
 the Reader in his own Words. After having obferv’d 
 that it was a Landfcape in ancient Arcadia, he conti- 
 nues ; “ Le tableau dont je parle reprefente le payfage 
 ct d’une contree riante. Au milieu Ton voit le monument 
 <e d’une jeune file morte a la fleur de fon age : c’eft ce 
 “ qu’ on connoit par la Statue de cette file couchee fur 
 “ le tombeau a la maniere des anciens. L’ infcription 
 e ‘ Sepulchrale n’eft que quartre mots latins : Je vivois ce- 
 ,c pendant in Arcadie, et in Arcadia ego. Mais cette in^ 
 “ fcription li courte fait faire les plus ferieufes refections 
 6i a deux jeunes ga^ons et a deux jeunes files parees de 
 “ gtiiflandes de fleurS, et qui paroiiTent avoir rencontre 
 6( ce monument ft trifte en des lieux ou Ton devine bien 
 fi qu’ ils ne cherchoient pas un objet afffigeant. Un d f 
 * e entre eux fait remarquer aux autres cette infcription en 
 ei la montrant du doigt, et 1’ on ne voit plus fur leur vi- 
 fage, a travers 1’ affi&ion qui s’en empare, que les 
 * 6 relies d’une joy e expirante. On s’ imagine entendre les 
 e * reflections de ces jeunes perfonnes fur la mort qui n’ e- 
 66 pargne in P age ni la beaute, et contre laquelle les 
 et plus heureux climats n’ ont point d’ azile. On fe fi- 
 ee gure ce qu’ elles vont fe dire de touchant lorfqu’ elles 
 fC feront revenues de la premiere furprife, et P on Pap- 
 plique a foi-meme et a eeux pour qui Pon s’imerelfe. 
 
 Rsfl. Crit. Sea, VI, 
 
i 3 4 LETTER XIX. 
 mon Affemblages of a rural Profpeft — 1 
 am much oblig’d to you for your ingeni- 
 ous Obfervations upon that ancient Se- 
 pulchral Infcription I lately fent you ; nor 
 would I have vou afham’d if hereafter it 
 
 j 
 
 fhould prove the ingenious Imitation of 
 feme Modern, for you know the great 
 Scaliger himfelf was impos’d upon in 
 this manner by Mupet, which was ac- 
 knowledg’d by all the Learned to be a 
 greater Proof of the Abilities of the latter* 
 than of the want of any critical Acumen 
 in the former. I fhall exped: to meet you 
 at the Grand Emporium very foon, there- 
 fore (hall add no more than that I am 
 
 Your> &c. & cv 
 
 LETTER 
 
[ *35 J 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 To Euphemius, 
 
 J O Y to the World, EuphemIus, that 
 a frefli Spring of almoft inexhauflibla 
 Pleafure is open’d, now that mythologi- 
 cal Veil is taken away which envelop’d the 
 Wifdom of the Ancients. Bat I little 
 thought, when I fent you the ingenious 
 Profeflar’s Book that I fhould embar- 
 rafs myfelf in a cruel Alternative, either 
 of denying a Requeft of your’s on one 
 hand* or of expofing my want of Abili- 
 ties to you in attempting to comply with 
 it on the other. The Reafon you affign 
 for defiring me to draw out a Mythologi- 
 cal Genealogy of Taste* in the manner of 
 K 4 the 
 
 ^ Letters concernin'? Mythology (written by the Author 
 of the Enquiry into the Life and Writings c/Homer) to 
 which Work, in Comparifon of the others we may apply 
 thofe Words of Tully, Non eft enim, ut in arce pan! 
 poflit, quaii ilia Minerva Phidi^e : fed tamen, ut ex ea- 
 dem officina exiffe apparent, 
 
 Ifitrod. ad. Farad, 
 
136 LETTER XX. 
 the Ancients, would hold good that I 
 fhould turn the Tables upon you, and 
 leave the Talk in far abler Hands : for 
 the ingenious Obfervations you made, 
 whilft we were reading over together the 
 four firft Books of Diodorus Siculus, 
 convince me 1 fhould fpend my Time 
 more ufefully in reading an entertaining 
 Fable of yours on this Subject, than in at- 
 tempting to compofe one myfelf. But as 
 the Friendship fubfifting betwixt us de- 
 mands that I fhould run the hazard of 
 giving you a difadvantageous Opinion of 
 my Capacity, rather than of my Inclina- 
 tion to fatisfy your Defire, I will endea- 
 vour to recall fome Idea of that Philofo- 
 phical Spirit which difcovers itfelf in all 
 your Reflections upon the Compofitions 
 of the Ancients, and entertain you, as 
 Dependents upon Great Men do their Pa- 
 trons, with a Banquet of your own pro-, 
 viding. 
 
 In aCave of a Mountain in the Iflandof 
 Crete dwelt a Nymph called Contem* 
 plation, fprung, as the Mythologies re- 
 
 4 I? 0 *** 
 
LETTER XX. 137 
 port, from Jupiter, the greateft of the 
 Gods ; for, according to their Accounts, 
 fhe was conceiv’d and leapt forth from 
 the Brain of her Cceleftial Parent, as 
 Pallas did, whilft he was deeply atten- 
 tive in beholding the Beauties of the 
 Creation. In this facred Retirement the 
 Nymph had liv’d many Ages, whither 
 feveral ancient Poets, Heroes, Philofo- 
 phers, and Legiflators frequently reforted, 
 for no one ever left her without receiving 
 the utmoft Happinefs from her divine 
 Precepts. As Apollo was wandering 
 one Day over the Top of this Moun- 
 tain, he chanc’d to light upon this hea- 
 venly Maid, whilft fhe was bufied in her 
 ufual Employment of meditating on this 
 ftupendous Syftem, and the divine Per- 
 fections of the great Creator of the World. 
 Smit with her Charms, he immediately 
 defcended into the Cave, and having en- 
 joy’d her, fhe bore him a Son, whom the 
 God nam’d Eudoxus, alluding to the 
 noble Ideas which fill’d the Mother’s 
 Mind when he firft beheld her. ’Tis 
 
 fa id. 
 
X 3 g .LETTER XX. 
 iaid, as the Nymph Contemplation 
 Was one Night counting the Stars, and 
 defcribing on the Sand with a Wand their 
 different Situations and Motions, having 
 left the Child not far off on a Bed of 
 Violets, that the Nightingale came and 
 cover’d him with Laurel Leaves, and 
 lull’d him to Sleep with the Melody of 
 her Song, foftly modulated to the tender 
 Ear of the liffning Infant. About this 
 Time the Delphian Oracle declar’d 
 that a Ray of Light was defcended from 
 the Sun, and being difcerp’d from that 
 mighty Luminary fhould be fpread all 
 over Greece, Italy, and part of Asia- 
 Minor, for many Ages. When Eu- 
 doxus had pafs’d the Years of Childhood, 
 Apollo being defirous not only to in- 
 ftrudt him in the abftrufer Knowledge of 
 his Mother, but to unite in his Education 
 a thorough Relifh of fuch other Arts and 
 Sciences, as might render him a Bene- 
 factor to Mankind in general, and his fa- 
 vourite Nation the Greeks in particular, 
 he took the Boy to his own belov’d Seat 
 
 of 
 
LETTER XX. *39 
 
 of Retirement, and committed his Darling 
 Charge to the Care of the Nine Muses* 
 and their Sifters the Heavenly Graces. 
 Here Eudoxus was inftrufted, firft how 
 the Great Architect of the Creation 
 divided the warring Elements, and out of 
 Chaos form’d by his Plaftic Mandate the 
 unmeafu.rable Frame of this ftupendous 
 Univerfe. Next, how the refulgent Source 
 of Light and Heat, the Sun, fprung thro 9 
 the blue Serene of Heaven, and being 
 fix’d immoveable in the Center of all, 
 drew round his glorious Orb thofe infe- 
 rior Globes, whofe certain and unerring 
 Courfes, in unchangeable Periods of Time, 
 form that aetherial Harmony imperceptible 
 to all Beings but the Inhabitants of Hea- 
 ven. Then he was told how the ob- 
 lique Pofition of this our Earth in its an- 
 nual Progrefs caus’d the delightful Revo- 
 lutions of Seafons ; how the foft defend- 
 ing Rains and genial W armth of Springs 
 open’d the relenting Earth, call’d forth 
 the infant Buds, and afterwards unfold- 
 ed all the vegetable Pride of Flowers 
 
 and 
 
i 4 o LETTER XX. 
 
 and Bloffoms; how the more perpend!^ 
 cular Rays of Heat ripened the riling 
 Harveft in Summer ; how Autumn glo- 
 ried in the regal Hue of it’s purple Vin- 
 tage ; and laftly, how the fterile Winter 
 itfelf was as ufeful to Mortals as the other 
 teeming Seafons, by affording in its cold 
 Embraces the requilite Reft to the fleeping 
 Vegetables, which thereby gain frelh 
 Vigour to renew their Species, and to 
 perpetuate Suftenance to all Animals, in the 
 fame Rotation, till Time fhall be no more. 
 From this general Knowledge of Nature, 
 he was led to enquire into the Conftruddoti 
 of particular Parts, the Bodies of Ani- 
 mals, and efpecially thofe of the human 
 Race ; to difcover the Caufes of Pain and 
 Difeafe, and by what Methods to reftore 
 them to their priftine Beauty and internal 
 Harmony called Health, and to recall the 
 natural original Senfations of Eafe and 
 Pleafure. When the Daughters cf 
 Memory had fully inftrudted Eudoxus, 
 as Apollo had directed them, in every 
 Branch of this Knowledge,, they brought 
 
 him 
 
LETTER XX. 141 
 
 him by degrees to conceive that an aethe- 
 rial Spirit was for a while united with the 
 human Body ; how it was agitated by 
 differentPaffions whilft in this Conjunction* 
 and then after Solution, the Body fhould 
 xeturn to it's kindred Dull, out of which 
 it was form’d, and the Soul to a feparate 
 State of Happinefs or Mifery, according 
 as it acted in this probationary State on 
 Earth. Having taken this View of Man 
 in the Abftract with all his Wants and 
 Infirmities, the Muses, laft of all, gave 
 their Difciple a thorough Infight into the 
 human Race in Society, where, by the 
 Goodnefs of the firft Author of all Things, 
 thefe very Deficiencies of Individuals 
 united the whole Species, and the mutual 
 Supply of each others Wants link’d all 
 Degrees into one irrefragable Chain toge- 
 ther, each different Part of which recipro- 
 cally depended upon the other, from the 
 Beginning to the End. They taught him 
 too, by way of Amufement, the ufe and 
 power of Mufic, Painting, and Poetry, 
 the firft of which could affwage mental 
 
 Agony j 
 
142 LETTER XX. 
 
 Agony ; the fecond revive part Pleafures 
 in beholding beautiful Objeds * and the 
 third infpire with a true love of Virtue, by 
 perpetuating the rever’d Memory of thofe 
 who had been Ornaments to our Species. 
 Eudoxus, being at length quite accom- 
 plished in every Art and Science, became 
 enamoured of one of the Graces, who 
 returned his Paflion with mutual Ardor. 
 One Day they took an Opportunity, whilft 
 the other two were bulled in fporting 
 with Flora and her train of Zephyrs, 
 to gratify their Deiires in a Cave of Mount 
 Ida. The Offspring of their Embraces 
 was a Daughter, whom the fond Parents 
 named Calocagathia. This Nymph, 
 who inherited all the Knowledge of her 
 Father, and all the Charms of her Mo- 
 ther, became as fhe grew up the chief 
 Favorite both of Gods and Men. In the 
 cceleltial Banquets (he always fat next to 
 Venus, and on Earth had the Honour 
 attributed to her of infpiring whatever 
 was uncommonly beautiful in Morals, 
 Arts, and Sciences. 
 
 In 
 
LETTER XX. 143 
 
 In this manner, my dear Euphemius, 
 the ancient Mythologifts would have 
 drawn the Genealogy of Taste, making 
 her the Daughter of one of the Graces 
 begot by Knowledge, who was the Son 
 of Contemplation. The Truth of this 
 figurative Reprefentation you may eafily 
 prove, by comparing it with the Hiftory 
 of your own Mind, where you can trace 
 the Goddefs from her Birth, to the full 
 Charms of her ripeft Age. Adieu, my 
 Friend, and may fhe ftill attend you thro* 
 Life in every Purfuit, whether in Arts, 
 Sciences, Morals or Religion. I am 
 
 Tour, &c. &c„ 
 
 F I N I S, 
 
. 
 
 ' ' 
 
 f 
 

 
 

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