COMMENTARY.

‘An Essay]’ The Poem is in one book, but divided into three principals parts or members. The first [to ℣ 201.] gives rules for the Study of the Art of Criticism: the second [from thence to ℣ 560.] exposes the Causes of wrong Judgment; and the third [from thence to the end] prescribes the Morals of the Critic.

In order to a right understanding of this poem, it will be ne­cessary to observe, that tho' it be intitled simply an Essay on Criticism, yet several of the precepts relate equally to the good writing as well as to the true judging of a poem. This is so far from violating the Unity of the Subject, that it rounds and com­pleats it: or from disordering the regularity of the Form, that it produces the highest beauty which can arise out of method, as will appear by the following considerations: 1. It was impossi­ble to give a full and exact idea of the Art of poetical Criticism, without considering, at the same time, the Art of Poetry; so far as Poetry is an Art. These therefore being closely connect­ed in nature, the Author has with much judgment reciprocally [Page 138] interwoven the precepts of both thro' his whole poem. 2. As all the rules of the ancient Critics were taken from Poets who copied nature, this is another reason why every Poet should be a Critic: Therefore, as the subject is poetical Criticism, it is fre­quently addressed to the critical Poet. And 3dly, the Art of Criticism is as necessarily, and much more usefully exercised in writing than in judging.

But Readers have been misled by the modesty of the Title: which only promises an Art of Criticism, in a treatise, and that a compleat one, of the Art both of Criticism and Poetry. This, and the not attending to the considerations offered above, per­haps was what misled a very candid writer, after having given this Piece all the praises on the side of genius and poetry which his true taste could not resuse it, to say, that the observations fol­low one another like those in Horace's Art of Poetry, without that methodical regularity which would have been requisite in a prose writer. Spec. No 235. I do not see how method can hurt any one grace of Poetry; or what prerogative there is in verse to to dispense with regularity. The remark is false in every part of it. Mr. Pope's Essay on Criticism, the Reader will soon see, is a regular piece: And a very learned Critic has lately shewn, that Horace had the same attention to method in his Art of Poetry.

VER. 1. ‘'Tis hard to say, etc.]’ The Poem opens [from ℣ 1 to 9.] with shewing the use and seasonableness of the subject. Its use, from the greater mischief in wrong Criticism than in ill Poetry, this only tiring that misleading the reader: Its season­ableness, from the growing number of false Critics, which now vastly exceeds that of bad Poets.

VER. 9. ‘'Tis with our judgments, etc.]’ The author having [Page 139] shewn us the expediency of his subject, the Art of Criticism, next inquires [from ℣ 8 to 15] into the necessary Qualities of a true Critic: And observes first, that JUDGMENT, simply and alone, is not sufficient to constitute this character, because Judg­ment, like the artificial measures of Time, goes different, and yet each relies upon his own. The reason is conclusive; and the similitude extremely just. For Judgment, when alone, is always regulated, or at least much inflenced by custom, fashion, and habit; and never certain and constant but when sounded upon TASTE: which is the same in the Critic, as GENIUS in the Poet: both are derived from Heaven, and like the Sun (the natural measure of Time) always constant and equal.

Nor need we wonder that Judgment alone will not make a Critic in poetry, when we see that it will not make a Poet. And on examination we shall find, that Genius and Taste are but one and the same faculty, differently exerting itself under different names, in the two prosessions of Poet and Critic. For the Art of Poetry consists in selecting, out of all those images which present themselves to the fancy, such of them as are truly poetical: And the Art of Criticism in judiciously discerning, and fully relishing what it finds so selected. 'Tis the same opera­tion of the mind in both cases, and consequently, exerted by the same faculty. All the difference is, that in the Poet this fa­culty is eminently joined with a bright imagination, and exten­sive comprehension, which provide stores for the selection, and can form that selection, by proportioned parts, into a regular whole: In the Critic, with a solid judgment and accurate discern­ment; which penetrate into the causes of an excellence, and can shew that excellence in all its variety of lights. Longinus had taste in an eminent degree; so this, which is indeed common to all true Critics, our Author makes his distinguishing character,

[Page 140] VER. 15. ‘Let such teach others, etc.]’ But it is not enough that the Critic hath these natural endowments to entitle him to the exercise of his Art, he ought, as our Author shews us [from ℣ 14 to 19] to give a further test of his qualification, by some acquired talents: And this on two accounts: 1. Because the of­fice of a Critic is an exercise of Authority. 2. Because he being naturally as partial to his Judgment as the Poet is to his Wit, his partiality would have nothing to correct it, as that of the per­son judged hath. Therefore some test is reasonable; and the best and most unexceptionable is his having written well himself, an approved remedy against Critical partiality; and the surest means of so maturing the Judgment, as to reap with glory what Longinus calls the last and most perfect fruits of much study and experience. Η ΓΑΡ ΤΩΝ ΛΟΓΩΝ ΚΡΙΣΙΣ ΠΟΛΛΗΣ ΕΣΤΙ ΠΕΙΡΑΣ ΤΕΛΕΥΤΑΙΟΝ ΕΠΙΓΕΝΝΗΜΑ.

VER. 19. ‘Yet if we look, etc.]’ But having been so free with this fundamental quality of Criticism, Judgment, as to charge it with inconstancy and partiality, and as often warped by custom and affection; that this may not be mistaken, he next explains [from ℣ 18 to 36.) the nature of Judgment, and the accidents [Page 141] occasioning those disorders before objected to it. He owns, that the seeds of Judgment are indeed sown in the minds of most men, but by ill culture, as it springs up, it generally runs wild: either on the one hand, by false knowledge which pedants call Philo­logy; or by false reasoning which Philosophers call School-learn­ing: Or on the other, by false wit which is not regulated by sense; or by false politeness which is solely regulated by the fa­shion. Both these sorts, who have their Judgments thus doubly [Page 142] depraved, the poet observes, are naturally turned to censure and reprehension; only with this difference, that the Dunce always affects to be on the reasoning, and the Fool on the laughing side.—And thus, at the same time, our author proves the truth of his introductory observation, that the number of bad Critics is vastly superior to that of bad Poets.

VER. 36. ‘Some have at first for Wits, etc.]’ The poet having enumerated, in this account of the nature of Judgment and its [Page 143] various depravations, the several sorts of bad Critics, and ranked them into two general Classes; as the first sort, namely the men spoiled by false learning, are but few in comparison of the other, and likewise come less within his main view (which is poetical Criticism) but keep groveling at the bottom amongst words and letters, he thought it here sufficient just to have mentioned them, proposing to do them right elsewhere. But the men spoiled by false taste are innumerable; and These are his proper concern: He therefore, from ℣ 35 to 46. sub-divides them again into the two classes of the volatile and heavy: He describes in few words the quick progress of the One thro' Criticism, from false wit to plain solly, where they end; and the fixed station of the Other between the confines of both; who under the name of Wit­ [...]ings, have neither end nor measure. A kind of half formed creature from the equivocal generation of vivacity and dulness, like those on the banks of Nile, from heat and mud.

[Page 144] VER. 46. ‘But you who seek, etc.]’ Our author having thus far, by way of INTRODUCTION, explained the nature, use, and abuse of Criticism, in a figurative description of the qua­lities and characters of Critics, proceeds now to deliver the pre­cepts of the Art. The first of which, from ℣ 47 to 68. is, that he who sets up for a Critic should previously examine his own strength, and see how far he is qualified for the exercise of his profession. He puts him in a way to make this discovery, in that admirable direction given ℣ 51.‘AND MARK THAT POINT WHERE SENSE AND DULNESS MEET.’ He had shewn above, that Judgment, without Taste or Genius, is equally incapable of making a Critic or a Poet: In whatsoever subject then the Critic's Taste no longer accompanies his Judg­ment, there he may be assured he is going out of his depth. This our author finely calls,

And immediately adds the REASON of his precept; the Author of Nature having so constituted the mental faculties, that one of them can never excel but at the expence of another.

[Page 145] From this state and ordination of the mental faculties, and the influence and effects they have one on another, our Poet draws this CONSEQUENCE, that no one genius can excell in more than one Art or Science. The consequence shews the necessity of the precept, just as the premisses, from which it is drawn, shew the reasonableness of it.

[Page 146] VER. 68. ‘First follow Nature, etc]’ The Critic observing the directions here given, and finding himself qualified for his office, is shewn next how to exercise it. And as he was to attend to Nature for a Call, so he is first and principally to follow her when called. And here again in this, as in the foregoing pre­cept, the poet [from ℣ 67 to 88.] shews both the fitness and the necessity of it. It's fitness, 1. Because Nature is the source of poetic Art; that Art being only a representation of Nature, who is its great exemplar and original. 2. Because Nature is the end of Art; the design of poetry being to convey the knowledge of [Page 147] Nature in the most agreeable manner. 3. Because Nature is the test of Art, as she is unerring, constant, and still the same. Hence the poet observes, that as Nature is the source, she con­veys life to Art: As she is the end, she conveys force to it, for the force of any thing arises from its being directed to its end: And, as she is the test, she conveys beauty to it, for every thing acquires beauty by its being reduced to its true standard. Such is the sense of those two important lines,

We now come to the necessity of the Precept. The two great constituent qualities of a Composition, as such, are Art and Wit: But neither of these attains perfection, 'till the first be hid, and the other judiciously restrained; which is only then when Na­ture is exactly followed; for then Art never makes a parade, nor can Wit commit an extravagance. Art, while it adheres to Nature, and has so large a fund in the resources which Nature supplies, disposes every thing with so much ease and simplicity, that we see nothing but those natural images it works with, while itself stands unobserv'd behind: But when Art leaves Na­ture, deluded either by the bold extravagance of Fancy, or the quaint odnesses of Fashion, she is then obliged at every step to come forward, in a painful or pompous ostentation, in order to cover, to soften, or to regulate the shocking disproportion of unnatural images. In the first case, the poet compares Art to the Soul within, informing a beauteous Body; but we general­ly find it, in the last, only like the outward Habit, bolstering up, by the Taylor's skill, the defects of a mis-shapen one.—As to [Page 148] Wit, it might perhaps be imagined that this needed only Judg­ment to govern it: But, as he well observes,

They want therefore some friendly Mediator or Reconciler, which is Nature: And in attending to her, the Judgment will learn where to comply with the charms of Wit, and the Wit how to obey the sage directions of Judgment.

VER. 88. ‘Those Rules of old etc.]’ Having thus, in his first precept, to follow Nature, settled Criticism on its true bottom; he proceeds to shew what assistance may be had from Art. But [Page 149] lest this should be thought to draw the Critic from the founda­tion where he had before fixed him, he previously observes [from ℣ 87 to 92] that those Rules of Art, which he is now about to recommend to his study, were not invented by the Imagina­tion, but discovered in the book of Nature: And that, there­fore, tho' they may seem to restrain Nature by Laws, yet, as they are laws of her own making, the Critic is still properly in the very liberty of Nature. Those Rules the ancient Critics borrowed from the Poets, who received them immediately from Nature,

and are both therefore to be well studied.

VER. 92. ‘Hear how learn'd Greece, etc.]’ He speaks of the ancient Critics first, and with great judgment, as the previous knowledge of them is necessary for reading the Poets, with that fruit which the intent here proposed requires. But having, in the previous observation, sufficiently explained the nature of ancient Criticism, he enters on the subject [treated of from ℣ 91 to 118] with a sublime description of its End; which was to [Page 150] illustrate the beauties of the best Writers, in order to excite others to an emulation of their excellence. From the admiration which these Ideas raise in him, the poet is naturally brought back to reflect on the degeneracy of modern Criticism: And as the restoring the Art to its original integrity and splendor is the great purpose of his poem, he first takes notice of those, who seem not to understand that Nature is exhaustless, that new mo­dels of good writing may be produced in every age, and con­sequently new rules may be formed from these models in the same manner as the old Critics formed theirs, from the writings of the ancient Poets: but these men wanting art and ability to form these new rules, are content to receive, and file up for use, the old ones of Aristotle, Quintilian, Longinus, Horace, etc. with the same vanity and boldness that Apothecaries practise with their Doctors bills: And thus rashly applying them to new Originals (cases which they did not hit) it was no more in their power than their inclination to imitate the candid practice of the An­cients, when

[Page 151] For, as Ignorance, when joined with Humility produces stu­pid admiration, on which account it is so commonly observed to be the mother of Devotion and blind homage; so when joined with Vanity (as it always is in bad Critics) it gives birth to every iniquity of impudent abuse and slander. See an example (for want of a better) in a late worthless and now forgotten thing, called the Life of Socrates. Where the head of the Author (as a man of wit observed, on reading the book) has just made a shift to do the office of a Camera obscura, and represent things in an inverted order; himself above, and Sprat, Rollin, Voltaire, and every other Author of reputation, below.

[Page 152] VER. 118. ‘You then whose judgment etc.]’ He comes next to the ancient Poets, the other and more intimate commentators of Nature. And shews [from ℣ 117 to 141.] that the study of These must indispensably follow that of the ancient Critics, as they furnish us with what the Critics, who only give us general rules, cannot supply: while the study of a great original Poet, in

will help us to those particular rules, which only can conduct us [Page 153] safely through every considerable work we undertake to exa­mine; and, without which, we may cavil indeed, as the poet truly observes, but can never criticize. We might as well sup­pose that Vitruvius's book alone would make a perfect Judge of Architecture, without the knowledge of some great master-piece of science, such as the Rotonda at Rome, or the Temple of Mi­nerva at Athens; as that Aristotle's should make a perfect Judge of wit, without the study of Homer and Virgil. These there­fore he principally recommends to complete the Critic in his Art. But as the latter of these Poets has, by superficial judges, been considered rather as a copyer of Homer, than an original, our Author obviates that common error, and shews it to have arisen (as often error does) from a truth, viz. that Homer and Nature were the same; and how that the ambitious young Poet, though he scorned to stoop at any thing short of Nature, when he came to understand this great truth, had the prudence to contemplate Nature in the place where she was seen to most ad­vantage, collected in all her charms in the clear mirror of Ho­mer. Hence it would follow, that, though Virgil studied Na­ture, [Page 154] yet the vulgar reader would believe him to be a copier of Homer; and though he copied Homer, yet the judicious reader would see him to be an imitator of Nature: the finest praise which any one, who came after Homer, could receive.

[Page 155] VER. 141. ‘Some beauties yet no Precepts can declare, etc.]’ Our Author, in these two general precepts for studying Nature and her Commentators, having considered Poetry as it is, or may be reduced to Rule; lest this should be mistaken as sufficient to attain PERFECTION either in writing or judging, he proceeds [from ℣ 140 to 201.] to point up to those sublimer beauties which Rules will never reach, that is, enable us either to exe­cute or taste: and which rise so high above all precept as not even to be described by it; but being entirely the gift of Heaven, Art and Reason have no further share in their production than just to moderate their operations. These Sublimities of Poetry, like the Mysteries of Religion (some of which are above Rea­son, and some contrary to it) may be divided into two sorts, such as are above Rules, and such as are contrary to them.

VER. 146. ‘If, where the rules etc.]’ The first sort our author [Page 156] describes [from ℣ 145 to 158.] and shews, that where a great beauty is in the Poet's view which no stated Rules will direct him how to reach, there, as the purpose of rules is only to pro­mote an end like this, a lucky Licence will supply the want of them: nor can the Critic fairly object to it, since this Li­cence, for the reason given above, has the proper sorce and au­thority of a Rule.

[Page 157] VER. 159. ‘Great Wits sometimes may gloriously offend, etc.]’ He describes next the second sort, the beauties against rule. And even here, as he observes [from ℣ 158 to 169] the of­fense is so glorious, and the fault so sublime, that the true Critic will not dare either to censure or reform them. Yet still the Poet is never to abandon himself to his Imagination: the rules our author lays down for his conduct in this respect, are these: 1. That though he transgress the letter of some one particular precept, yet that he still adhere to the end or spirit of them all; which end is the creation of one uniform perfect Whole. And 2. That he have, in each instance, the authority of the dispens­ing power of the Ancients to plead for him. These rules observ­ed, this licence will be seldom used, and only when he is com­pelled by need: which will disarm the Critic, and screen the trans­gressor from his laws.

[Page 158] VER. 169. ‘I know there are, etc.]’ But as some modern Critics have had the presumption to say, that this last rule is only justi­fying one fault by another, our author goes on [from ℣ 168 to 181] to vindicate the Ancients; and to shew that this cen­sure proceeds from rank Ignorance. As where their partial Judgment cannot see that this licence is sometimes necessary for the symmetry and proportion of a perfect whole, from the point, and in the light wherein it must be viewed: or, where their hasty Judgment will not give them time to discover, that a deviation from rule is for the sake of attaining some great and admirable purpose.—These observations are further useful as they tend to give modern Critics an humbler opinion of their own abilities, and an higher of the Authors they undertake to criticize. On which account He concludes with a fine reproof of that common proverb perpetually in the mouths of Critics, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus; misunderstanding the sense of Horace, and taking quandoque for aliquando:

[Page 159] VER. 181. ‘Still green with bays, etc.]’ But now fired with the name of Homer, and transported with the contemplation of those beauties which a cold Critic can neither see nor conceive, the Poet [from ℣ 180 to 201.] breaks into a rapturous exclama­tion on the rare felicity of those few Ancients who have risen superior over time and accidents: And, as it were disdaining any longer to reason with his Critics, offers this to them as the surest confutation of their censures. Then with the humility of a supplicant at the shrine of Immortals, and the Sublimity of a Poet participating of their fire, he turns again to these ancient worthies, and apostrophises their Manes:

[Page 160] VER. 200. ‘T' admire superior sense, and doubt their own.]’ This line concludes the first division of the Poem; in which we [Page 161] see the subject of the first and second part, and likewise the con­nexion they have with one another. It serves likewise to in­troduce the second. The effect of studying the Ancients, as hi­therto recommended, would be the admiration of their superior sense; which, if it will not of itself dispose Moderns to a diffi­dence of their own (one of the great uses, as well as natural fruits of that study) the poet, to help forward their modesty, in his second part shews them (in a regular deduction of the causes and effects of wrong Judgment) their own image and amiable turn of mind.

VER. 201. ‘Of all the Causes, etc.]’ Having, in the first part, delivered Rules for perfecting the Art of Criticism, the second is employ'd in explaining the Impediments to it. The order of the two parts is judicious. For the causes of wrong Judgment be­ing Pride, superficial Learning, a bounded Capacity, and Partia­lity; Those to whom this part is principally addressed, would not readily be brought either to see the malignity of the causes, or to own themselves concerned in the effects, had not the Author previously both enlightened and convicted them, by the fore­going observations, on the vastness of Art, and narrowness of Wit; the extensive study of human Nature and Antiquity; and the Characters of ancient Poetry and Criticism; the natural reme­dies to the four epidemic disorders he is now endeavouring to redress.

Ibid. ‘Of all the causes, etc.]’ The first cause of wrong Judg­ment is PRIDE. He judiciously begins with it, [from ℣ 200 to 215] as on other accounts, so on this, that it is the very thing which gives modern Criticism its character; whose com­plexion is abuse and censure. He calls it the vice of Fools; by whom are not meant those to whom Nature has given no Judg­ment (for he is here speaking of what misleads the Judgment) but those in whom education and study has made no improve­ment; as appears from the happy similitude of an ill-nourish'd [Page 162] body; where the same words which express the cause, expres. likewise the nature of pride:

'Tis the business of reason, he tells us, to dispel the cloud which pride throws over the mind: But the mischief is, that the rays of reason, diverted by self-love, sometimes gild this cloud, instead of dissipating it. So that the Judgment, by false lights reflected back upon itself, is still apt to be a little dazzled, and to mis­take its object. He therefore advises to call in still more helps:

Both the beginning and conclusion of this precept are remarkable. The question is of the means to subdue Pride: He directs the Critic to begin with a distrust of himself; and this is Modesty, the first mortification of Pride: And then to seek the assistance of others, and make use even of an Enemy; and this is Humility, the last mortification of Pride: For when a man can once bring himself to submit to profit by an enemy, he has either already quite subdued his Vanity, or is in a fair way of so doing.

[Page 163] VER. 215. ‘A little learning, etc.]’ We must here remark the Poet's skill in his disposition of the causes obstructing true Judg­ment. Each general cause which is laid down first, has its own particular cause in that which follows. Thus, the second cause of wrong Judgment, SUPERFICIAL LEARNING, is what gives birth to that critical Pride, which he mentioned first.

VER. 216. ‘Drink deep, etc.]’ Nature and Learning are the pole stars of all true Criticism: But Pride hinders the sight of Nature; and a smattering of letters takes away all sense of the want of Learning. To avoid this ridiculous situation, the poet [from ℣ 214 to 233] advises, either to drink deep, or not to taste at all; for the least sip is enough to make a bad Critic, while even a moderate draught can never make a good one. And yet the labours and difficulties of drinking deep are so great that a young author, ‘"Fir'd with ideas of fair Italy,"’ and am­bitious to snatch a palm from Rome, engages in an undertak­ing as arduous almost as that of Hannibal: Finely illustrated by the similitude of an unexperienced traveller penetrating thro' the Alps.

[Page 164] VER. 233. ‘A perfect Judge, etc.]’ The third cause of wrong Judgment is a NARROW CAPACITY; the natural and certain cause of the foregoing defect, acquiescence in superficial learning. This bounded Capacity the poet shews [from 232 to 384.] be­trays itself two ways; in the matter, and in the manner of the [Page 165] work criticised. In the matter by judging by parts; or by having one favorite part to a neglect of all the rest: In the manner, by confining the regard only to conceit, or language, or numbers. This is our Poet's order; and we shall follow him as it leads us; only just observing one great beauty which runs thro' this part of the poem; it is, that under each of these heads of wrong Judgment, he has intermixed excellent precepts for right. We shall take notice of them as they occur.

He exposes the folly of judging by parts very artfully, not by a direct description of that sort of Critic, but of his opposite, a perfect Judge, etc. Nor is the elegance of this conversion in­ferior to the art of it; for as, in poetic style, one word or figure is still put for another, in order to catch new lights from dif­ferent images, and to reflect them back upon the subject in hand; so, in poetic matter, one person or thing may be advan­tageously employed for another, with the same elegance of re­presentation. It is observable that our Author makes it almost the necessary consequence of judging by parts, to find fault: And this not without much discernment: For the several parts of a compleat Whole, when seen only singly, and known only indepen­dently, [Page 166] must always have the appearance of irregularity; often, of deformity: Because the Poet's design being to create a result­ive beauty from the artful assemblage of several various parts into one natural whole; those parts must be fashioned with re­gard to their mutual relations in the stations they occupy in that whole, from whence, the beauty required is to arise: But that regard will occasion so unreducible a form in each part, when considered singly, as to present a very mis-shapen appearance.

[Page 167] VER. 253. ‘Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,]’ He shews next [from ℣ 252 to 263] that to fix our censure on single parts tho' they happen to want an exactness consistent enough with their relation to the rest, is even then very unjust: And for these reasons, 1. Because it implies an expectation of a faultless piece, which is a vain imagination: 2. Because no more is to be expected of any work than that it fairly attains its end: But the end may be attained, and yet these trivial faults committed: Therefore, in spight of such faults, the work will merit the praise due to that which attains its end. 3. Because sometimes a great beauty is not to be procured, nor a notorious blemish to be avoided, but by suffering one of these minute and trivial errors. 4. And laftly, because the generous neglect of them is a praise; as it is the indication of a Genius, busied about greater matters.

[Page 168] VER. 263. ‘Most Critics, fond of some subservient art, etc.]’ II. The second way in which a narrow capacity, as it relates to the matter, shews itself, is judging by a favorite Part. The au­thor has placed this [from ℣ 262 to 285] after the other of judging by parts, with great propriety, it being indeed a natural consequence of it. For when men have once left the whole to turn their attention to the separate parts, that regard and reverence due only to a whole is fondly transferred to one or other of its parts. And thus we see that Heroes themselves as well as Heromakers, even Kings as well as Poets and Critics, when they chance never to have had, or long to have lost the idea of that which is the only legitimate object of their office, the care and conservation of the whole, are wont to devote themselves to the service of some favorite part, whether it be love of money, mi­litary glory, despotic power, etc. And all, as our Author says on this occasion,

[Page 169] This general misconduct much recommends that maxim in good Poetry and Politics, to give a principal attention to the whole; a maxim which our author has elswhere shewn to be equally true likewise in Morals and Religion; as being founded in the order of things: For, if we examine, we shall find it arise from this imbecillity of our nature, that the mind must always have some­thing to rest upon, to which the passions and affections may be interestingly directed. Nature prompts us to seek it in the most worthy object; and common sense points out to a Whole or System: But Ignorance, and the false lights of the Passions, confound and dazzle us; we stop short, and before we get to a Whole, take up with some Part; which from thence becomes our Fa­vourite.

[Page 170] VER. 285.

2. He concludes his observations on those two sorts of judges by parts, with this general reflexion.—The curious not knowing are the first sort, who judge by parts, and with a microscopic sight (as he says elsewhere) examine bit by bit: The not exact but nice, are the second, who judge by a favourite part, and talk of a whole to cover their sondness for a part; as Philosophers do of principles, in order to obtrude their notions or opinions for them. [Page 171] But the fate common to both is, to be governed by caprice and not by Judgment, and consequently, to form short ideas, or to have ideas short of truth: Tho' the latter sort, thro' a fondness to their favorite part, imagine that they comprehend the whole in epitome: As the famous Hero of La Mancha, mentioned just before, used to maintain, that Knight Errantry comprised with­in itself the quintessence of all Science, civil and military.

VER. 289. ‘Some to Conceit alone, etc.]’ We come now to that second sort of bounded capacity, which betrays itself in the man­ner of the work criticised. And this our Author prosecutes from ℣ 288 to 384. These are again subdivided into divers classes.

Ibid. ‘Some to Conceit alone, etc.]’ The first from ℣ 288 to 305.] are those who confine their attention solely to Conceit or Wit. And here again the Critic by parts, offends doubly in the manner, just as he did in the matter: For he not only confines his atten­tion [Page 172] to a part, when it should be extended to the whole; but he likewise judges salsely of that part. And this, like the other, is unavoidable, as the parts in the manner, bear the same close relation to the whole, that the parts in the matter do; to which whole the ideas of this Critic have never yet extended. Hence it is, that our author, speaking here of those who confine their attention solely to Conceit or Wit, describes the two species of true and false Wit; because they not only mistake a wrong dis­position of true Wit for a right, but likewise false Wit for true: He describes false Wit first, from ℣ 288 to 297.

Where the reader may observe our Author's skill in representing, in a description of salse Wit, the false disposition of the true, as the Critic by parts is apt to fall into both these errors.

He next describes true Wit, from 296 to 305.

And here again the reader may observe the same beauty, not on­ly an explanation of true Wit, but likewise of the right disposition of it; which the poet illustrates, as he did the wrong, by ideas taken from the art of Painting.

[Page 173] VER. 305. ‘Others for Language, etc.]’ He proceeds secondly to those narrow-minded Critics, whose whole concern turns upon Language, and shews [from ℣ 304 to 337.] that this qua­lity, where it holds the principal place, deserves no commenda­tion; 1. Because it excludes qualities more essential. And when the abounding Verbiage has excluded the sense, the writer has nothing to do but to gild over the defect, by giving his words all the false colouring in his power.

2. He shews, that the Critic who busies himself with this quality alone, is altogether unable to make a right Judgment of it; because true Expression is only the dress of Thought; and so must be perpetually varied according to the subject, and man­ner [Page 174] of thinking. But those who never concern themselves with the Sense, can form no judgment of the correspondence between that and the Language:

Now as these Critics are ignorant of this correspondence, their whole judgment in Language is reduced to the examination of single words; of which, such as are to his taste, are so only in proportion as they smack of Antiquity: On which our author has therefore bestowed a little raillery; concluding with a short and proper direction concerning the use of words, so far as re­gards their novelty and ancientry.

[Page 176] VER. 337. ‘But most by Numbers judge, etc.]’ The last sort are those [from ℣ 336 to 384.] whose ears are attached only to the Harmony of a poem. Of which they judge as ignorantly and as perversely as the other sort did of Eloquence; and for the very same reason. He first describes that false Harmony with which they are so much captivated; and shews, that it is wretchedly flat and unvaried: For

He then describes the true. 1. As it is in itself, constant; with a happy mixture of strength and sweetness, in contradiction to the roughness and flatness of false Harmony: And 2. as it is [Page 177] varied, in compliance to the subject, where the sound becomes an who to the sense, so far as is consistent with the preservation of numbers; in contradiction to the monotony of false Harmony: Of this he gives us, in the delivery of his precepts, four fine ex­amples of smoothness, roughness, slowness, and rapidity. The first use of this correspondence of the sound to the sense, is to aid the fancy in acquiring a perfecter and more lively image of the thing represented. A second and nobler, is to calm and sub­due the turbulent and selfish passions, and to raise and warm the beneficent: Which he illustrates in the famous adventure of Timotheus and Alexander: where, in referring to Mr. Dryden's Ode on that subject, he turns it to a high compliment on that great poet.

[Page 180] VER. 384. ‘Avoid Extremes, etc.]’ Our Author is now come to the last cause of wrong judgment, PARTIALITY; the pa­rent of the immediately preceding cause, a bounded capacity: Nothing so much narrowing and contracting the mind as pre­judices entertained for or against things or persons. This, therefore, as the main root of all the foregoing, he prosecutes at large from ℣ 383 to 473.

First, to ℣ 394. he previously exposes that capricious turn of mind, which, by running men into Extremes, either of praise or dispraise, lays the foundation of an habitual partiality. He cautions therefore both against one and the other; and shews that excess of Praise is the mark of a bad taste; and excess of Cen­sure, of a bad digestion.

[Page 181] VER. 394. ‘Some foreign writers, etc.]’ Having explained the disposition of mind which produces an habitual partiality, be preceeds to expose this partiality in all the shapes in which it ap­peats both amongst the unlearned and the learned.

I. In the unlearned, it is seen, first, In an unreasonable fond­ness for, or aversion to our own or foreign, to ancient or modern writers. And as it is the mob of unlearned readers he is here speaking of, he exposes their solly in a very apposite similitude:

But he shews [from ℣ 397 to 408] that these Critics have as wrong a notion of Reason as those Bigots have of God: For that Genius is not confined to times or climates; but, as the common gist of Nature, is extended throughout all ages and countries: That indeed this intellectual light, like the material light of the Sun itself, may not shine at all times, in every place, with equal splendor; but be sometimes clouded with popular ig­norance; and sometimes again eclipsed by the discountenance of Princes; yet it shall still recover itself; and, by breaking thro' the strongest of these impediments, manifest the eternity of its nature.

[Page 182] VER. 408. ‘Some ne'er advance a Judgment of their own]’ A second instance of unlearned partiality, he shews [from ℣ 407 to 424.] is mens going always along with the cry, as having no fixed or well grounded principles whereon to raise any judgment of their own. A third is reverence for names; of which sort, as he well observes, the worst and vilest are the idolizers of names of quality; whom therefore he stigmatizes as they deserve. Our [Page 183] author's temper as well as judgment is here very observable, in throwing this species of partiality amongst the unlearned Critics: His affection for letters would not suffer him to conceive, that any learned Critic could ever fall to so low a prostitution.

VER. 424.—

II. He comes, in the second place [from ℣ 423 to 452] to consider the instances of partiality in the learned. 1. The first is Singula­rity. For, as want of principles, in the unlearned, necessitates them to rest on the general judgment as always right; so adhe­rence to false principles (that is, to notions of their own) mis­leads the learned into the other extreme, of supposing the gene­ral [Page 184] judgment always wrong. And as, before, the Poet com­pared those to Bigots, who made true faith to consist in believ­ing after others; so he compares these to Schismaticks, who make it to consist in believing as no one ever believed before. Which folly he marks with a lively stroke of humour in the turn of the thought:

2. The second is Novelty. And as this proceeds sometimes from fondness, sometimes from vanity; he compares the one to the passion for a mistress; and the other, to the pride of being in fa­shion: But the excuse common to both is, the daily improvement of their Judgment.

Now as this is a plausible pretence for their inconstancy; and our author has himself afterwards laid down the like thought, in a precept for a remedy against obstinacy and pride, where he says, ℣ 570.

he has been careful, by the turn of the expression in this place, to shew the difference. For Time, considered only as duration, vitiates as frequently as it improves: Therefore to expect wis­dom as the necessary attendant of length of years, unrelated to long experience, is vain and delusive. This he illustrates by a remarkable example; where we see Time, instead of becoming wiser, destroying good letters, to substitute school divinity in their place.—The genius of which kind of learning; the character of its professors; and the sate, which, sooner or later, always at­tends whatsoever is wrong or false, the poet sums up in those four lines;

[Page 185] And in conclusion, he observes, that perhaps this mischief, from love of novelty, might not be so great, did it not, with the Critic, infect Writers likewise; who, when they find their rea­ders disposed to take ready Wit on the standard of current Folly, never trouble themselves to make better payment.

[Page 187] VER. 452. ‘Some valuing those of their own side or mind, etc.]’ 3. The third and last instance of partiality in the learned, is Party and Faction. Which is consider'd from ℣ 451 to 474. where he shews how men of this turn deceive themselves when they load a writer of their own side with commendation. They fancy they are paying tribute to merit, when they are only sa­crificing to self-love. But this is not the worst. He further shews, that this party spirit has often very ill effects on Science [Page 188] itself; while, in support of Faction, it labours to depress some rising Genius, that was, perhaps, raised by nature, to enlighten his age and country. By which he would insinuate, that all the base and viler passions seek refuge, and find support in party madness.

[Page 189] VER. 474. ‘Be thou the first, etc.]’ The poet having now gone thro' the last cause of wrong Judgment, and root of all the rest, PARTIALITY; and ended it with the highest instances of it, in party-rage and envy; this affords him an opportunity [from ℣ 473 to 560.] of closing his second division in the most graceful manner, by concluding from the premisses, and calling upon the TRUE CRITIC to be careful of his charge, which is the protec­tion and support of Wit. For, the defence of it from malevo­lent censure is its true protection; and the illustration of its beauties, its true support.

He first shews, the Critic ought to do this service without delay: And on these motives. 1. Out of regard to himself: For there is some merit in giving the world notice of an excellence; but none at all in pointing, like an Idiot, to that which has been long in the admiration of men. 2. Out of regard to the Poem: For the short duration of modern works requires they should begin [Page 190] to enjoy their existence early. He compares the life of modern Wit, and of the ancient, which survives in an universal language, to the difference between the Patriarchal age and our own: And observes, that while the ancient writings live for ever, as it were in brass and marble, the modern are but like Paintings, which, of how masterly a hand soever, have no sooner gained their requisite perfection by the incorporating, softening, and ripening of their tints, which they do in a very few years, but they begin to fade and die away. 3. Lastly, our author shews, that the Critic ought to do this service out of regard to the Poet; when he considers the slender dowry the Muse brings along with her: In youth 'tis only a short lived vanity; and in maturer years an accession of care and labour, in proportion to the weight of Re­putation to be sustained, and of the increase of Envy to be oppo­sed: And concludes his reasoning therefore on this head, with that pathetic and insinuating address to the Critic, from 508 to 524.

[Page 193] VER 527. ‘But if in noble minds some dregs remain, etc.]’ So far as to what ought to be the true Critic's principal study and employment. But if the four critical humour must needs have vent, he points to its right object; and shews [from ℣ 526 to 556.] how it may be usefully and innocently diverted. This is very observable; for our author makes spleen and disdain the characteristic of the false Critic, and yet here supposes them inherent in the true. But it is done with judgment, and a knowledge of nature. For as bitterness and acerbity in un­ripe fruits of the best kind are the foundation and capacity of that high spirit, race, and flavour which we find in them, when perfectly concocted by the heat and influence of the Sun; and which, without those qualities, would often gain no more by that influence than only a mellow insipidity: so spleen and disdain in the true Critic, improved by long study and experience, ripen into an exactness of Judgment and an elegance of Taste: But, lying in the false Critic remote from [Page 194] the influence of good letters, continue in all their first offensive harshness and astringency. The Poet therefore shews how, af­ter the exaltation of these qualities into their state of perfection, the very Dregs (which, tho' precipitated, may possibly, on some occasions, rise and ferment even in a noble mind) may be use­fully employed in branding OBSCENITY and IMPIETY. Of these he explains the rise and progress, in a beautiful picture of the different genius's of the reigns of Charles II. and William III. the former of which gave course to the most profligate luxury; the latter to a licentious impiety. These are the criminals the poet assigns over to the caustic hand of the Critic, but concludes however, from ℣ 556 to 561. with this necessary admonition, to take care not to be misled into unjust censure; either on the one hand, by a pharisaical niceness, or on the other by a con­sciousness of guilt. And thus the second division of his Essay ends: The judicious conduct of which is worthy our observa­tion. The subject of it are the causes of wrong Judgment: These he derives upwards from cause to cause, till he brings them to their source, an immoral partiality: For as he had, in the first part,

and shewn them to be derived from Heaven, and the Offspring of virtue; so hath he here pursued this enemy of the Muses, the bad Critic, to his low original, in the arms of his nursing mother Immorality. This order naturally introduces, and at the same time shews the necessity of, the subject of the third and last division, which is, on the Morals of the Critic.

[Page 196] VER. 561. ‘Learn then, etc.]’ We enter now on the third part, the MORALS of the Critic; included in CANDOUR, MO­DESTY, and GOOD-BREEDING. This third and last part is in two divisions. In the first of which [from ℣ 560 to 632.] he inculcates these morals by precept: In the second [from ℣ 631 to the end] by example. His first precept [from ℣ 562 to 567.] recommends CANDOUR, for its use to the Critic, and to the writer criticised.

[Page 197] 2. The second [from ℣ 566 to 573.] recommends MODESTY, which manifests itself by these four signs: 1. Silence where it doubts,

2. A seeming diffidence where it knows,

3. A free confession of error where wrong,

4. And a constant review and scrutiny even of those opinions which it still thinks right:

3. The third [from ℣ 572 to 585.] recommends GOOD BREEDING, which will not force truth dogmatically upon men, as ignorant of it, but gently insinuates it into them, as not suf­ficiently attentive to it. But as men of breeding are apt to fall in­to two extremes, he prudently cautions against them. The one is a backwardness in communicating their knowledge, out of a false delicacy, and fear of being thought Pedants: The other, and much more common extreme in men of breeding, is a mean com­placence, which such as are worthy of your advice do not want to make it acceptable; for those can best bear reproof in par­ticular points, who best deserve commendation in general.

[Page 198] VER. 585. ‘'Twere well might Critics, etc.]’ The poet having thus recommended, in these general rules of Conduct for the Judgment, the three critical Virtues to the heart; shews next [from ℣ 584 to 632.] on what three sort of Writers these Vir­tues, together with the advice conveyed under them, would be thrown away; and, which is worse, be repaid with obloquy and slander. These are the false Critic, the dull Man of Qua­lity, and the bad Poet; each of which incorrigible writers he hath very justly and exactly characterized.

But having drawn the last of them at large, and being always attentive to his main subject, which is, of writing and judging well, he re-assumes the character of the bad Critic (whom he had but touched upon before) to contrast him with the other; and makes the Characteristic common to both, to be a never­ceasing Repetition of their own impertinence.‘The Poet,—still runs on in a raging vein, etc. ℣ 607, etc.’ ‘The Critic—with his own tongue still edifies his ears, ℣ 615, etc.’

[Page 201] VER. 631. ‘But where's the man, etc.]’ II. The second division of this last part, which we now come to, is of the Morals of Critics by example. For, having there drawn a picture of the false Critic, at large, he breaks out into an apostrophe, con­taining an exact and finished character of the true, which, at the same time, serves for an easy and proper introduction to this second division. For, having asked [from ℣ 631 to 644.] Where's the [Page 202] man, etc. he answers [from ℣ 643 to 682.] That he was to be found in the happier ages of Greece and Rome; in the persons of Aristotle and Horace, Dionysius and Petronius, Quintilian and Longinus. Whose features he has not only exactly delineated, but contrasted with a peculiar elegance; the profound science and logical method of Aristotle being opposed to the plain common sense of Horace, conveyed in a natural and familiar negligence; the study and refinement of Dionysius, to the gay and courtly ease of Petronius; and the gravity and minuteness of Quintilian, to the vivacity and general topics of Longinus. Nor has the Poet been less careful, in these examples, to point out their eminence in the several critical Virtues he so carefully inculcated in his precepts. Thus in Horace he particularizes his Candour, in Pe­tronius his Good Breeding, in Quintilian his free and copious In­struction, and in Longinus his noble Spirit.

[Page 205] VER. 682. ‘Thus long succeeding Critics, etc.]’ The next pe­riod in which the true Critic (he tells us) appear'd, was at the revival and restoration of letters in the West. This occasions his giving a short history [from ℣ 683 to 710.] of the decline [Page 206] and re-establishment of arts and sciences in Italy. He shews that they both fell under the same enemy, despotic power; and that when both had made some little efforts to restore themselves, they were soon quite overwhelmed by a second deluge of another kind, Superstition; and a calm of Dulness finish'd upon Rome and Letters what the rage of Barbarism had begun:

When things had been long in this condition, and all recovery now appear'd desperate, it was a CRITIC, our author shews us for the honour of the Art he here teaches, who at length broke the charm of Dulness, dissipated the inchantment, and, like an­other Hercules, drove those cowl'd and hooded serpents from the Hesperian tree of knowledge, which they had so long guarded from human approach.

[Page 207] VER. 694. ‘At length Erasmus, etc.]’ Nothing can be more artful than the application of this example; or more happy than the turn of compliment to this admirable man. To throw glory quite round his illustrious character, he makes it to be (as in fact it really was) by his assistance chiefly, that Leo was ena­bled to restore letters and the fine arts, in his Pontificate.

VER. 698. ‘But see each Muse in Leo's golden days]’ This pre­sents us with the second period in which the true Critic appear'd; of whom he has given us a perfect idea in the single example of Marcus Hieronymus Vida: For his subject being poetical Criti­cism, for the use principally of a critical Poet; his example is an eminent poetical Critic, who had had written of that Art in verse.

[Page 208] VER. 710. ‘But soon by impious arms, etc.]’ This brings us to the third period, after learning had still travelled farther West; when the arms of the Emperor, in the sack of Rome by the duke of Bourbon, had driven it out of Italy, and forced it to pass the Mountains—The Examples he gives in this period, are of Boileau in France, and of the Lord Roscommon and the duke of Buckingham in England: And these were all Poets, as well as Critics in verse. It is true, the last instance is of one who was no eminent poet, the late Mr. Walsh. This small deviation might be well over-looked, was it only for its being a pious office to the memory of his friend: But it may be farther justified as it was an homage paid in particular to the MORALS of the Critic, no­thing being more amiable than the character here drawn of this excellent person. He being our Author's Judge and Censor, as [Page 209] well as Friend, it gives him a graceful opportunity to add himself to the number of the later Critics; and with a character of him­self, sustained by that modesty and dignity which it is so difficult to make consistent, this performance concludes.

I have given a short and plain account of the Essay on Criti­cism, concerning which I have but one thing more to acquaint the reader: That when he considers the Regularity of the plan, the masterly Conduct of each part, the penetration into Nature, and the compass of Learning, so conspicuous throughout, he should at the same time know, it was the work of an Author who had not attained the twentieth year of his age.