Nature as much as Proportion itself.--I am very glad the
Prints I sent afforded you so much Pleasure, not only as I wish every
thing which comes from me may be favorably received by you, but as
they are likewise a Confirmation of my Arguments; for the Man who
drew them is no very great Artist, but being a faithful Disciple of
Nature, having delineated every Object in a Camera Obscura, he has
not failed of gaining the uncontested Applause, which the Followers of
that unerring Mistress will ever receive from Mankind. My EUDOCIA
calls me to administer with her Comfort to a little fatherless Family in
the District of our Hamlet, therefore must conclude myself,
Your sincere Friend, &c.
LETTER
TASTE:
AN
EPISTLE
TO A
YOUNG CRITIC.
Range from Tower-hill all London to the Fleet, Thence round the
Temple, t'utmost Grosvenor-street: Take in your route both Gray's and
Lincoln's Inn; Miss not, be sure, my Lords and Gentlemen; You'll
hardly raise, as I with[A] Petty guess, } 5 Above twelve thousand men
of taste; unless } In desperate times a Connoisseur may pass. }
"A Connoisseur! What's that?" 'Tis hard to say: But you must oft
amidst the fair and gay Have seen a wou'd-be rake, a fluttering fool, 10
Who swears he loves the sex with all his soul. Alas, vain youth! dost
thou admire sweet Jones? Thou be gallant without or blood or bones!
You'd split to hear th' insipid coxcomb cry Ah charming Nanny! 'tis too
much! I die!-- 15 Die and be d--n'd, says one; but let me tell ye I'll pay
the loss if ever rapture kill ye.
[Footnote A: Sir William Petty, author of the Political Arithmetic.]
'Tis easy learnt the art to talk by rote: At Nando's 'twill but cost you
half a groat; The Redford school at three-pence is not dear, Sir; At
White's--the stars instruct you for a tester. 21 But he, whom nature
never meant to share One spark of taste, will never catch it there:-- Nor
no where else; howe'er the booby beau Grows great with Pope, and
Horace, and Boileau.
Good native Taste, tho' rude, is seldom wrong, Be it in music, painting,
or in song. But this, as well as other faculties, Improves with age and
ripens by degrees. I know, my dear; 'tis needless to deny 't, 30 You like
Voiture, you think him wondrous bright; But seven years hence, your
relish more matur'd, What now delights will hardly be endur'd. The boy
may live to taste Racine's fine charms, Whom Lee's bald orb or Rowe's
dry rapture warms: But he, enfranchis'd from his tutor's care, 36 Who
places Butler near Cervantes' chair; Or with Erasmus can admit to vie
Brown of Squab-hall _of merry memory_; Will die a Goth: and nod at
[A]Woden's feast, 40 Th' eternal winter long, on [B]Gregory's breast.
Long may he swill, this patriarch of the dull, The drowsy Mum--But
touc not Maro's skull! His holy barbarous dotage sought to doom, Good
heaven! th' immortal classics to the tomb!-- Those sacred lights shall
bid new genius rise 45 When all Rome's saints have rotted from the
skies. Be these your guides, if at the ivy crown You aim; each country's
classics, and your own. But chiefly with the ancients pass your prime,
50 And drink Castalia at the fountain's brim. The man to genuine
Burgundy bred up, Soon starts the dam of Methuen in his cup.
[Footnote A: Alluding to the Gothic heaven, Woden's hall; where the
happy are for ever employed in drinking beer, mum, and other
comfortable liquors out of the skulls of those whom they had slain in
battle.]
[Footnote B: Pope Gregory the VIth, distinguished by the name of St.
Gregory; whose pious zeal, in the cause of barbarous ignorance and
priestly tyranny, exerted itself in demolishing, to the utmost of his
power, all the remains of heathen genius.]
Those sovereign masters of the Muses skill Are the true patterns of
good writing still, 55 Their ore was rich and seven times purg'd of lead;
Their art seem'd nature, 'twas so finely hid. Tho' born with all the
powers of writing well, What pains it cost they did not blush to tell.
Their ease (my Lords!) ne'er lowng'd for want of fire, Nor did their rage
thro' affectation tire. 61 Free from all tawdry and imposing glare They
trusted to their native grace of air. Rapt'rous and wild the trembling
soul they seize, } Or sly coy beauties steal it by degrees; } 65 The more
you view them still the more they please. }
Yet there are thousands of scholastic merit Who worm their sense out
but ne'er taste their spirit. Witness each pedant under Bentley bred;
Each commentator that e'er commented. 70 (You scarce can
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