Nay, fly to altars; there they'll talk
you dead;
For Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.
Diftruftful fenfe with modeft caution fpeaks,
It ftill looks home, and fhort excurfions makes;
But rattling nonfenfe in full vollies breaks,
And never shock'd, and never turn'd afide,
Burfts out, refiftless, with a thund'ring tide.

626

630

But where's the man, who counfel can beftow,

Still pleas'd to teach, and yet not proud to know?

Unbiafs'd, or by favour, or by fpite;

635

Not dully prepoffefs'd, nor blindly right;

Tho' learn'd, well-bred; and tho' well-bred, fincere ;
Modeftly bold, and humanly fevere :

And gladly praise the merit of a foe?
Bleft with a taste exact, yet unconfin'd;

Who to a friend his faults can freely fhow,

་

640

A knowledge both of books and human kind;
Gen'rous converfe; a foul exempt from pride;
And love to praife, with reafon on his fide?

Such once were Critics; fuch the happy few,
Athens and Rome in better ages knew.
The mighty Stagyrite firft left the shore,

645

Spread all his fails, and durft the deeps explore;
He fteer'd fecurely, and discover'd far,

Led by the light of the Mæonian Star.

650

Poets, a race long unconfin'd and free,

Still fond and proud of favage liberty,

Receiv'd his laws; and ftood convinc'd 'twas fit

Who conquer'd Nature fhould prefide o'er Wit.

Horace still charms with graceful negligence,

655

And without method talks us into fenfe,
Will like a friend, familiarly convey
The trueft notions in the easiest way.

He, who fupreme in judgment, as in wit,

Might boldly cenfure, as he boldly writ,

660

Yet judg'd with coolnefs, tho' he fung with fire,

His Precepts teach but what his works infpire.

VOL. I.

M

Our

Our Critics take a contrary extreme,

They judge with fury, but they write with flegm :
Nor fuffers Horace more in wrong Translations
By Wits, than Critics in as wrong Quotations.

*

See Dionyfius Homer's thoughts refine,
And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line!

Fancy and art in gay Petronius meet,
The scholar's learning, with the courtier's wit.
In grave Quintilian's copious work, we find
The jufteft rules, and cleareft method join'd:
Thus useful arms in magazines we place,
All rang'd in order, and difpos'd with grace;
Nor thus alone the curious eye to please,

But to be found, when need requires, with eafe.
Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine inspire,

And blefs their Critic with a Poet's fire.
An ardent judge, who zealous in his truft,
With warmth gives fentence, yet is always juft;
Whofe own example ftrengthens all his laws,
And is himself that great fublime he draws.

Thus long fucceeding Critics juftly reign'd,

665

670.

675

68

Licence reprefs'd, and useful laws ordain'd.
Learning and Rome alike in empire grew,

685

And Arts ftill follow'd where her Eagles flew.

From the fame foes, at laft, both felt their doom,

And the fame age faw learning fall, and Rome.

With Tyranny, then Superftition join'd,

690

As that the body, this enflav'd the mind;
Much was believ'd, but little understood,
And to be dull was conftru'd to be good;
A fecond deluge learning thus o'er-run,
And the Monks finifh'd what the Goths begun.
At length Erafinus, that great, injur'd name,

(The glory of the Priesthood, and the shame!)
Stem'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age,
And drove thofe holy Vandals off the stage.

* Dionylus of Halicarnaffus.

695

But

But fee! each Mufe, in Leo's golden days,

Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays! 700
Rome's ancient Genius, o'er its ruins fpread,

Shakes off the duft, and rears his rev'rend head.
Then Sculpture and her fifter- arts revive;
Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live;
With fweeter notes each rifing Temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a* Vida fung.
Immortal Vida! on whose honour'd brow
The Poet's bays and Critic's ivy grow:
Cremona now fhall ever boaft thy name,
As next in place to Mantua, next in fame!

But foon by impious arms from Latium chas'd,
Their ancient bounds the banish'd Mufes pafs'd;
Thence arts o'er all the northern world advance;
But critic learning flourish'd most in France:
The rules, a nation born to ferve, obeys;
And Boileau ftill in right of Horace fways.
But we, brave Britons, foreign laws defpis'd,
And kept unconquer'd, and unciviliz'd,
Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold,

705

710

715

We ftill defy'd the Romans, as of old.

720

Yet fome there were among the founder few

Of those who lefs prefum'd, and better knew,
Who durft affert the jufter ancient caufe,
And here reftor'd Wit's fundamental laws.

Such was the Mufe, whofe rules and practice tell, 725
Nature's chief Mafter-piece is writing well.

Such was Rofcommon-not more learn'd than good, With manners gen'rous as his noble blood;

To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,

And ev'ry author's merit but his own.

730

Such late was Walsh,-the Mufe's judge and friend,
Who juftly knew to blame or to commend;

* M. Hieronymus Vida, an excellent Latin Poet, who writ an Art of Poetry in verfe. He flour fhed in the time of Leo X.

Effay on Poetry, by the Duke of Buckingham.