In poets as true genius is but rare,
True tafte as feldom is the critick's fhare;
Both must alike from heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let*fuch teach others who themselves excell,
And cenfure freely who have written well..
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,.
But are not critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely, we shall find Moft have the feeds of judgment in their mind: Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;.
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right..
But as the lightest sketch, if justly trac❜d,
Is by ill colouring but the more disgrac'd,
So by falfe learning is good fenfe defac'd:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And fome made coxcombs nature meant but fools.
In fearch of wit thefe lofe their common fenfe,
And then turn critics in their own defence:
* Qui feribit artificiosè, ab aliis commodè scripta facilè intelligere poterit. Cic. ad Herenn. lib. 4.
↑ Omnes tacito quodam fenfu, fine ullâ arte, aut ratione, qua fint in artibus ac rationibus recta ac prava dijudicant. Cic. de Orat. lib. 3.
Those hate as rivals all that write; and others.
But envy wits, as eunuchs envy lovers.
All fuch have ftill an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing fide:
If Mavius fcribble in Apollo's spight,
There are, who judge ftill worse than he can write.
Some have at firft for wits, then poets paft,
Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at laft:
Some neither can for wits nor critics pafs,
As heavy mules are neither horfe nor ass.
Thofe half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our iffe,
As half-form'd infects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,'
Their generation's fo equivocal:
To tell'em, would a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire.
But you who seek to give and merit faine,
And juftly bear a critic's noble name,
Be fure your felf and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, tafte, and learning go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet,
And mark that point where fenfe and dulness meet.
Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit,
And wifely curb'd proud man's pretending wit.
As on the land while here the ocean gains,
In other parts it leaves wide fandy plains;
Thus in the foul while memory prevails,
The folid pow'r of understanding fails;
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's foft figures melt away.
One fcience only will one genius fit;
So vaft is art, fo narrow human wit:
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft' in those confin'd to fingle parts.
Like Kings we lose the conqueft gain'd before,
By vain ambition still to make them more.
Each might his fev'ral province well command,
Would all but ftoop to what they understand.
First follow nature, and your judgment frame
By her juft ftandard, which is ftill the fame:
Unerring nature, ftill divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd and universal light,
Life, force, and beauty, muft to all impart,
At once the fource, and end, and test of art.
Art from that fund each juft fupply provides,
Works without fhow, and without pomp prefides.
In fome fair body thus the fecret foul
With spirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole.
Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve sustains ;
Itself unseen, but in the effects, remains.
There are whom heav'n has bleft with ftore of wit,
Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at strife,
Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife. 'Tis more to guide, than fpur the mufe's steed; Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;
The winged courfer, like a gen'rous horse,
Shows moft true mettle when you check his course.
Thofe rules of old difcover'd, not devis'd,
Are nature ftill, but nature methodiz'd;
Nature, like Monarchy, is but reftrain'd
By the fame laws which first herself ordain'd.
Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites, When to reprefs, and when indulge our flights! High on Parnaffus' top her fons she show'd,
-And pointed out those arduous paths they trod,
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urg'd the reft by equal fteps to rife.
Juft precepts thus from great examples giv'n,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from heav'n.
* Nec enim artibus editis factum eft ut argumenta inveniremus, fed dita funt omnia antequam præciperentur, mox ea fcriptores observata & colletta ediderunt. Quintil.
The gen'rous critic fann'd the poet's fire,
And taught the world, with reason to admire..
Then criticism the mufe's handmaid prov'd,
To dress her charms, and make her more belov'd;
But following wits from that intention ftray'd;
Who could not win the miftrefs, woo'd the maid,
Set up themfelves, and drove a fep'rate trade;
Against the poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate moft the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'pothecaries, taught the art
By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,
Prefcribe, apply, and call their mafters fools...
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,.
Nor time nor moths e'er spoil'd fo much as they
Some dryly plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made; .
Thefe loft the fenfe, their learning to display,
And those explain'd the meaning quite away..
You then whofe judgment the right courfe would
Know well each ancient's proper character;
[fteer,
His fable, fubject, fcope in ev'ry page;
Religion, country, genius of his age:
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