Considering the metrical art simply as a science, and consequently excluding all casualty, we must allow that Triplets and Alexandrines, inserted by caprice, are interruptions of that constancy to which science aspires. And though the variety which they produce may very justly be desired, yet, to make poetry exact, there ought to be some stated mode of admitting them.

But till some such regulation can be formed, I wish them still to be retained in their present state. They are sometimes convenient to the poet. Fenton was of opinion, that Dryden was too liberal, and Pope too sparing, in their use.

The rhymes of Dryden are commonly just, and he valued himself for his readiness in finding them; but he is sometimes open to objection.

It is the common practice of our poets to end the second line with a weak or grave syllable :

Together o'er the Alps methinks we fly,

Fill'd with ideas of fair Italy.

Dryden sometimes puts the weak rhyme in the first:

Laugh, all the powers that favour tyranny
And all the standing army of the sky.

Sometimes he concludes a period or paragraph with the first line of a couplet, which, though the French seem to do it without irregularity, always displeases in English poetry.

The Alexandrine, though much his favourite, is not always very diligently fabricated by him. It invariably requires a break at the sixth syllable; a

rule which the modern French poets never violate, but which Dryden sometimes neglected:

And with paternal thunder vindicates his throne.

Of Dryden's works it was said by Pope, that "he could select from them better specimens of every mode of poetry than any other English writer could supply." Perhaps no nation ever produced a writer that enriched his language with such variety of models. To him we owe the improvement, perhaps the completion of our metre, the refinement of our language, and much of the correctness of our sentiments. By him we were taught "sapere et fari," to think naturally and express forcibly. Though Davies has reasoned in rhyme before him, it may be perhaps maintained that he was the first who joined argument with poetry. He showed us the true bounds of a translator's liberty. What was said of Rome, adorned by Augustus, may be applied by an easy metaphor to English poetry embellished by Dryden, "lateritiam invenit, marmoream reliquit." He found it brick and he left it marble.

The invocation before the Georgicks is here inserted from Mr. Milbourne's version, that according to his own proposal, his verses may be compared with those which he censures.

What makes the richest tilth, beneath what signs
To plough, and when to match your elms and vines ;
What care with flocks, and what with herds agrees,
And all the management of frugal bees;

I sing, Mecanas! Ye immensely clear,

Vast orbs of light, which guide the rolling year;
Bacchus, and mother Ceres, if by you

We fatt'ning corn for hungry mast pursue,
If, taught by you, we first the cluster prest,
And thin cold streams with spritely juice refresht;
Ye fawns, the present numens of the field,

Wood-nymphs and fawns, your kind assistance yield;
Your gifts I sing: and thou, at whose fear'd stroke
From rending earth the fiery courser broke,
Great Neptune, O assist my artful song!
And thou to whom the woods and groves belong,
Whose snowy heifers on her flow'ry plains
In mighty herds the Caan Isle maintains!
Pan, happy shepherd, if thy cares divine,
E'er to improve thy Manalus incline,
Leave thy Lycaan wood and native grove,
And with thy lucky smiles our work approve;
Be Pallas too, sweet oil's inventor, kind;
And he who first the crooked plough design'd,
Sylvanus, god of all the woods, appear,
Whose hands a new-drawn tender cypress bear!
Ye gods and goddesses, who e'er with love
Would guard our pastures and our fields improve;
You, who new plants from unknown lands supply,
And with condensing clouds obscure the sky,
And drop them softly thence in fruitful showers;
Assist my enterprize ye gentle powers!

And thou, great Cæsar! though we know not yet Among what gods thou 'lt fix thy lofty seat; Whether thou 'lt be the kind tutelar god

Of thy own Rome, or with thy awful nod

Guide the vast world, while thy great hand shall bear
The fruits and seasons of the turning year,

And thy bright brows thy mother's myrtles wear;
Whether thou 'lt all the boundless ocean sway,
And seamen only to thyself shall pray;
Thule, the fairest island, kneel to thee,
And, that thou may'st her son hy marriage be,

Tethys will for the happy purchase yield
To make a dowry of her wat'ry field:
Whether thou 'lt add to Heaven a brighter sign,
And o'er the summer months serenely shine;
Where between Cancer and Erigone,

There yet remains a spacious room for thee;
Where the hot Scorpion too his arm declines,
And more to thee than half his arch resigns;
Whate'er thou 'lt be; for sure the realms below
No just pretence to thy command can show:
No such ambition sways the vast desires,
Though Greece her own Elysian Fields admires.
And now, at last, contented Proserpine
Can all her mother's earnest prayers decline.
Whate'er thou 'lt be, O guide our gentle course;
And with thy smiles our bold attempts enforce;
With me th' unknowing rusticks' wants relieve,
And, though on earth, our sacred vows receive!

Mr. DRYDEN, having received from Rhymer his Remarks on the Tragedies of the last Age, wrote observations on the blank leaves: which, having been in the possession of Mr. Garrick, are by his favour communicated to the publick, that no particle of Dryden may be lost.

"That we may less wonder why pity and terror are not now the only springs on which our tragedies move, and that Shakspeare may be more excused, Rapin confesses that the French tragedies now all run on the tendre; and gives the reason, because love is the passion which most predominates in our souls, and that therefore the passions represented become insipid, unless they are conformable to the thoughts of the audience. But it is to be concluded, that this passion works not now amongst the French so strongly as the other two

did amongst the ancients. Amongst us, who have a stronger genius for writing, the operations from the writing are much stronger: for the raising of Shakspeare's passions is more from the excellency of the words and thoughts, than the justness of the occasion; and, if he has been able to pick single occasions, he has never founded the whole reasonably yet, by the genius of poetry in writing, he has succeeded.

"Rapin attributes more to the dictio, that is, to the words and discourse of a tragedy, than Aristotle has done, who places them in the last rank of beauties; perhaps, only last in order, because they are the last product of the design, of the disposition or connexion of its parts; of the characters, of the manners of those characters, and of the thoughts proceeding from those manners. Rapin's words are remarkable: 'Tis not the admirable intrigue, the surprising events, and extraordinary incidents, that make the beauty of a tragedy: 'tis the discourses, when they are natural and passionate: so are Shakspeare's.

"The parts of a poem, tragick or heroick, are, "1. The fable itself.

"2. The order or manner of its contrivance, in relation of the parts to the whole.

"3. The manners, or decency, of the characters, in speaking or acting what is proper for them, and proper to be shown by the poet.

"4. The thoughts which express the manners. "5. The words which express those thoughts. "In the last of these Homer excels Virgil;

Virgil all the other ancient poets; and Shakspeare all modern poets.