When the ripe colours foften and unite,
And fweetly melt into juft fhade and light;
When mellowing years their full perfection give,
And each bold figure just begins to live;
The treacherous colours the fair art betray,
And all the bright creation fades away!
Unhappy wit, like most mistaken things, Atones not for that envy which it brings; In youth alone its empty praife we boast, But foon the fhort-liv'd vanity is loft: Like some fair flower the early spring supplies, That gaily blooms, but ev'n in blooming dies. What is this wit, which mult our cares employ? The owner's wife, that other men enjoy ; The most our trouble ftill when moft admir'd, And still the more we give, the more requir'd; Whose fame with pains we guard, but lofe with ease,
Sure fome to vex, but never all to please;
'Tis what the vicious fear, the virtuous fhun;
By fools 'tis hated, and by knaves undone!"
If wit fo much from ignorance undergo,
Ah, let not learning too commence its foe!
Of old, thofe met rewards, who could excel, 510
And fuch were prais'd who but endeavour'd well;
Though triumphs were to generals only due,
Crowns were referv'd to grace the foldiers too.
Now, they who reach Parnaffus' lofty crown,
Employ their pains to spurn fome others down;
And while felf-love each jealous writer rules,
Contending wits become the fport of fools:
But ftill the worst with most regret commend,
For each ill author is as bad a friend.
To what bafe ends, and by what abject ways, 5 20
Are mortals urg'd through facred luft of praise!
Ah, ne'er fo dire a thirst of glory boast,
Nor in the critic let the man be loft.
Good-nature and good-fenfe muft ever join;
To err, is human; to forgive, divine.
But if in noble minds fome dregs remain,
Not yet purg'd off, of spleen and four disdain;
Difcharge that rage on more provoking crimes,
Nor fear a dearth in these flagitious times.
No pardon vile obfcenity fhould find,
Though wit and art confpire to move your mind;
Ver. 490. Ed. 1. When mellowing time does, &c. Ver. 492. The treacherous colours in few years decay.
Ver. 495. Repays not half that envy, &c.
Ver. 498.
Like some fair flower that in the fpring does
Ver. 500.
What is this wit that does our cares employ ?
Ver. 502.
But dulnefs with obfcenity must prove
As fhameful fure as impotence in love.
In the fat age of pleasure, wealth, and ease, Sprang the rank weed, and thriv'd with large increase:
When love was all in cafy monarch's care;
Seldom at council, never in a war:
Jilts rul'd the state, and statesmen farces writ;
Nay wits had penfions, and young lords had wit:
The fair fat panting at a courtier's play,
And not a mafk went unimprov'd away:
The modeft fan was lifted up no more,
And virgins fmil'd at what they blush'd before.
The following licenfe of a foreign reign
Did all the dregs of bold Socinus drain;
Then unbelieving priests reform'd the nation,
And taught more pleasant methods of falvation;
Where heaven's free fubjects might their rights
difpute,
Left God himself fhould frem too abfolute :
Pulpits their facred fatire learn'd to spare,
And vae admir'd to find a flatterer there!
Encourag'd thus, wit's Titans brav'd the skies,
And the prefs groan'd with licens'd blafphemies.
Thefe monfters, critics! with your darts engage,
Heré point your thunder, and exhauft your rage!
Yet fhun their fault, who, fcandalously nice,
Will needs mistake an author into vice;
All feems infected that th' infected spy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundic'd eye.
Learn then what morals critics ought to fhow;
For 'tis but half a judge's task, to know. 561
'Tis not enough, tafte, judgment, learning, join ;
In all you fpeak, let truth and candour shine;
That not alone what to your fenfe is due
All may allow, but feek your friendship too.
Be filent always, when you doubt your fense;
And speak, though fure, with feeming diffidence:
Some pofitive, perfifting fops we know,
Who, if once wrong, will needs be always fo;
But you, with pleasure, own your errors paft, 570
And make each day a critic on the laft.
'Tis not enough your counfel fill be true; Blunt truths more mifchief than nice falfehoods do; Men must be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown propos'd as things forget. Without good breeding truth is difapprov'd; That only makes fuperior fenfe belov'd.
Ver. 547. The Author has here omitted the two following lines; as containing a national rerife.flection, which in his ftricter judgment he could not but difapprove on any people whatever. : Then firft the Belgians morals were extoll'd; We their religion had, and they our gold. Ver. 562. 'Tis not enough, wit, art, and learning join.
The more his trouble as the more admir'd; Where wanted, fcorn'd; and envy'd where acquir'd;
Maintain'd with pains, but forfeited with ease, &c.
Ver. 508. Ed. I. Too much does wit, &c.
Ver. 514. Now those that reach, &c.
Ver. 519. And each, &c.
Ver. 564 That not alone what to your judgment's due.
Ver. 569. That if once wrong, &c.
Ver. 575. And things ne'er know, &c.
Ver. 576. Without good-breeding truth is not
Be niggards of advice on no pretence; For the worst avarice is that of fenfe. With mean complacence, ne'er betray your trust, Nor be fo civil as to prove unjust. Fear not the anger of the wife to raise; Those best can bear reproof, who merit praife. "Twere well might critics ftill this freedom take: But Appius reddens at each word you speak, And ftares tremendous, with a threatening eye, Like fome fierce tyrant in old tapestry. Fear most to tax an honourable fool, Whole right it is, uncenfur'd, to be dull! Such, without wit, are poets when they please. As without learning they can take degrees. 591 Leave dangerous truths to unfuccessful fatires, And flattery to fulfome dedicators,
Whom, when they praife, the world believes no
Than when they promise to give scribbling o`er.
'Tis best fometimes your cenfure to restrain,
And charitably let the dull be vain :
Your filence there is better than your spite,
For who can rail so long as they can write? 599
still humming on, their drowsy courfe they keep,
And lafh'd fo long, like tops, are lafh'd afleep.
Falle fteps but help them to renew the race,
As, after ftumbling, jades will mend their pace.
What crowds of thefe, impenitently bold,
In founds and jingling fyllables grown old,
Still run on poets, in a raging vein,
Ev'n to the dregs and fqueezings of the brain,
Strain out the last dull dropping of their fenfe,
And rhyme with all the rage of impotence!
Such fhamelefs bards we have: and yet 'tis
true,
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Ver. 586. And flares tremendous, &c.] This picture was taken to himfelf by John Dennis, a furious old critic by profeffion, who, upon no other provocation, wrote against this effay, and its author, in a manner perfectly lunatic: For, as to mention made of him in ver. 270, he took it as a compliment, and faid it was treacherouily meant to caufe him to overlook this abufe of his perfon. Ver. 597. And charitably let dull fools be vain. Ver. 600.
Still humming on, their old dull course they keep.
Ver. 619. Garth did not write, &c.] A common flander at that time in prejudice of that deferving author. Our poet did him this juftice, when that flander most prevailed; and it is now (perhaps the fooner for this very verie) dead and forgotten.
Name a new play, and he's the poet's friend, 620 Nay fhow'd his faults-but when would poets mend?
No place fo facred from fuch fops is barr'd, Nor is Paul's church more fafe than Paul's churchyard:
Nay, fly to altars; there they'll talk you dead;
For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
Distrustful fenfe with modeft caution speaks,
It ftill looks home, and short excurfions makes :
But rattling nonfenfe in full vollies breaks,
And, never fhock'd, and never turn'd afide,
Bursts out, refiftless, with a thundering tide. 630
But where's the man, who counfel can bestow,
Still pleas'd to teach, and yet not proud to know?
Unbiafs'd, or by favour, or by spite;
Not dully prepoffefs'd, nor blindly right; [fincere ;
Though learn'd, well-bred; and though well-bred,
Modeilly bold, and humanely fevere:
Who to a friend his faults can freely fhow.
And gladly praise the merit of a foe?
Bleft with a taste exact, yet unconfin'd;
A knowledge both of books and human kind; 640
Generous converfe; a foul exempt from pride;
And love to praise, with reafon on his fide?
Such once were critics; fuch the happy few
Athens and Rome in better ages knew:
The mighty Stagyrite first left the shore,
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.
Poets, a race long unconfin'd and free,
Still fond and proud of favage liberty,
Receiv'd his laws; and stood convinc'd 'twas fit,
Who conquer'd nature, fhould prefide o'er wit.
Horace ftill charms with graceful negligence,
And without method talks us into fenfe,
Will, like a friend, familiarly convey
The trueft notions in the easiest way.
Ver. 623. Between this and ver. 624. In vain you shrug and sweat, and strive to fly; Thefe know no manners but of poetry: They'll flop a hungry chaplain in his grace, To treat of unities of time and place. Ver. 624. Nay-run to altars, &c. Ver. 634. Not dully prepoffefs'd, or blindly right. Between ver. 646 and 649, I found the following lines, fince fuppreffed by the author: That bold Columbus of the realms of wit, Whofe firft difcovery 's not exceeded yet, Led by the light of the Mæonian star, He fteer'd fecurely, and difcover'd far. He, when all nature was fubdued before, Like his great pupil, figh'd, and long'd for more: Fancy's wild regions yet unvanquish'd lay. A boundless empire, and that own'd no fway. Poets, &c.
After ver. 648. the first edition reads, Not only nature did his laws obey, But fancy's boundleis empire own'd his fway. Ver. 655. Does, like a friend, &c. Ver. 655, 656. Thefe lines are not in Ed. 1.
He, who fupreme in judgment, as in wit,
Might boldly cenfure, as he boldly writ, [fire;
Yet judg'd with coolness, though he fung with
His precepts teach but what his works infpire.
Our critics take a contrary extreme,
661
They judge with fury, but they write with phlegm:
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 every line!
Fancy and art in gay Petronius please,
The fcholar's learning, with the courtier's cafe.
In grave Quintilian's copious work, we find
The jufteft rules and cleareft method Join'd: 670
Thus ufeful arms in magazines we place,
All rang'd in order, and difpos'd with grace,
But lefs to please the eye, than arm the hand,
Still fit for ufe, and ready at command.
Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine infpire,
And bless their critic with a poet's fire.
An ardent judge, who, zealous in his trust,
With warmth gives fentence, yet is always juft;
Whofe own example strengthens all his laws;
And is himself that great fublime he draws.
Thus long fucceeding critics justly reign'd,
Licenfe reprefs'd, and ufeful laws ordain'd.
Learning and Rome alike in empire grew,
And arts ftill follow'd where her eagles fiew;
From the fame foes, at last, both felt their doom,
And the fame age faw learning fall, and Rome.
With tyranny, then fuperftition join'd,
As that the body, this enflav'd the mind;
Much was believ'd, but little understood,
And to be dull was conftrued to be good:
A fecond deluge learning thus o'er-ran,
And the Monks finish'd what the Goths began.
At length Erafinus, that great injur'd name,
(The glory of the priesthood, and the fhame!)
Stemm'd the wild torrent of a barbarous age,
And drove thofe holy Vandals off the stage.
The scholar's learning, and the courtier's ease.
Ver. 673, &c.
Nor thus alone the curious eye to please,
But to be found, when need requires, with eafe.
The mufes fure Longinus did infpire,
And blefs'd their critic with a poet's fire.
An ardent judge, that zealous, &c.
But fec! each mufe, in Leo's golden days, Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays;
Rome's ancient genius, o'er its ruins spread,
Shakes off the duft, and rears his reverend head. 700
Then sculpture and her sister-arts revive;
Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live;
With sweeter notes each rifing temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a Vida fung.
Immortal Vida! on whofe 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 serve, obeys;
And Boileau still in right of Horace (ways.
But we, brave Britons, foreign laws defpis'd,
And kept unconquer'd, and unciviliz'd;
Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold,
We ftill defy'd the Romans, as of old.
Yet fome there were among the founder few
Of those who lefs prefum'd, and better knew, 720
Who durft affert the jufter ancient caufe,
And here reftor'd wit's fundamental laws.
Such was the mufe, whofe rules and practice tell,
"Nature's chief mafter-piece is writing well."
Such was Rofcommon, not more learn'd than good,
With manners generous as his noble blood;
To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,
And every author's merit but his own.
690 Such late was Walfh-the mufe's judge and friend,
Who justly knew to blame or to commend; 730
To failings mild, but zealous for defert;
The clearest head, and the fincerest heart.
This humble praife, lamented fhade! receive,
This praife at least a grateful muse may give :
The mufe, whofe early voice you taught to fing,
Prefcrib'd her heights, and prun'd her tender
Ver. 689. All was believ'd, but nothing underflood.
Between ver. 690 and 691. the Author omitted
these two:
Vain wits and critics were no more allow'd,
When none but faints had licenic to be proud.
(Her guide now loft) no more attempts to rise,
But in low numbers short excursions tries:
Content, if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may
The learn'd reflect on what before they knew. 740
Careless of cenfure, nor too fond of fame;
Still pleas'd to praile, yet not afraid to blame;
Averfe alike, to flatter or offend;
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.
Ver. 723, 724. Thefe lines are not in Ed. .
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1711.
"Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos,
"Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuiffe tuis."
MADAM, It will be in vain to deny that I have fome regard for this piece, fince I dedicate it to you; yet you may bear me witness, it was intended only to divert a few young ladies, who have good fenfe and good humour enough to laugh not only at their fex's little unguarded follies, but at their own. But as it was communicated with the air of a fecret, it foon found its way into the world. An imperfect copy having been offered to a bookfeller, you had the good nature, for my fake, to confent to the publication of one more correct: This I was forced to, before I had executed half my defign, for the machinery was entirely wanting to complete it.
The machinery, Madam, is a term invented by the critics, to fignify that part which the deities, angels, or dæmons, are made to act in a poem: For the ancient poets are in one refpect like maby modern ladies; let an action be never fo trivial in itfelf, they always make it appear of the utmost importance. These machines I determined to raise on a very new and odd foundation, the Roficrufian doctrine of fpirits.
I know how difagreeable it is to make ufe of hard words before a lady; but it is fo much the concern of a poet to have his works understood, and particularly by your fex, that you must give me leave to explain two or three difficult terms.
The Roficrufians are a people I must bring you acquainted with. The beft account I know of
balis, which, both in its title and fize, is so like a novel, that many of the fair fex have read it for one by mistake. According to thefe gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by fpirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and falamanders. The gnomes, or dæmons of earth, delight in mifchief; but the fylphs, whofe habitation is in the air, are the beft-conditioned creatures imaginable; for they fay, any mortals may enjoy the most intimate familiarities with thefe gentle fpirits, upon a condition very easy to all true adepts, an inviolate prefervation of chastity.
As to the following cantos, all the paffages of them are as fabulous as the vifion at the beginning, or the transformation at the end (except the lofs of your hair, which I always mention with reverence). The human perfons are as fictitious as the airy ones; and the character of Belinda, as it is now managed, resembles you in nothing but in beauty.
If this poem had as many graces as there are in your perfon, or in your mind, yet I could never hope it fhould pafs through the world half fo uncenfured as you have done. But let its fortune be what it will, mine is happy enough, to have given me this occafion of alluring you that I am, with the truest esteem,
Your moft obedient, humble fervant,
WHAT dire offence from amorous caufes fprings,
What mighty contefts rife from trivial things,
I fing-this verfe to Caryl, mufe is due :
This ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view :
Slight is the subject, but not fo the praise,
If the infpire, and he approve my lays.
Say what ftrange motive, goddess! could compel
A well-bred lord t' affault a gentle belle?
O fay what ftranger caufe, yet unexplor'd,
Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?
In tasks fo bold, can little men engage?
And in foft befoms dwells fuch mighty rage?
Sol through white curtains fhot a timorous ray,
And ope'd thofe eyes tlet muft eclipse the day;
Now lap-dogs give themselves the rouzing flake,
And fleepless lovers, juft at twelve, awake:
Thricerung the bell, the flipper kuock'd the ground,
And the prefs'd watch return'd a filver found.
Belinda ftill her downy pillow preft,
Her guardian fylph prolong'd the balmy reft: 20
'Twas he had fummon'd to her filent bed
The morning dream that hover'd o'er her head.
A youth more glittering than a birth-night beau
(That ev'n in flumber caus'd her cheek to glow)
Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay,
And thus in whispers faid, or feem'd to say:
Fairest of mortals, thou diftinguish'd care
Of thousand bright inhabitants of air!
If e'er one vifion touch thy infant thought,
Of all the nurfe and all the pricft have taught; 30
Ver. 11, 12. It was in the first editions: And dwells fuch rage in softest bosoms then, And lodge fuch daring fouls in little men?
Ver. 13, &c. ftood thus in the first edition: Sol through white curtains did his beams difplay, And ope'd those eyes which brighter fhone than they;
Shock juft had given himself the rouzing shake, And nymphs prepar'd their chocolate to take; Thrice the wrought flipper knock'd against the ground,
And ftriking watches the tenth hour refound.
Ver. 19. Belinda ftill, &c.] All the verfes from hence to the end of this canto were added afterwards.
Of airy elves by moonlight shadows feen,
The filver token, and the circled green,
Or virgins vifited by angel-powers,
With golden crowns and wreaths of heavenly flowers;
Hear and believe! thy own importance know,
Nor bound thy narrow views to things below,
Some fecret truths, from learned pride conceal'd,
To maids alone and children are reveal'd :
What though no credit doubting wits may give? L
The fair and innocent shall Atill believe.
Know then, unnumber'd fpirits round thee fly,
The light militia of the lower fky:
Thefe, though unfeen, are ever on the wing,
Hang o'er the box, and hover round the ring.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air.
And view with icorn two pages and a chair.
As now your own, our beings were of old,
And once enclos'd in woman's beauteous mould;
Thence, by a foft transition, we repair
From earthly vehicles to thefe of air.
Think not, when women's tranfient breath is
fied,
That all her vanities at once are dead.
Succeeding vanities fhe ftill regards,
And though the plays no more, o'erlooks the cards.
Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive,
And love of ombre, after death furvive,
For when the fair in all their pride expire,
To their firft elements their fouls retire:
The fprites of fiery termagants in flame
Mount up, and take a falamander's name,
Soft yielding minds to water glide away,
And fip, with nymphs, their elemental tea.
The graver prude tinks downward to a gnome,
In fearch of mifchief ftill on earth to roam.
The light coquettes in fylphs aloft repair,
And fport and flutter in the fields of air.
Know farther yet; whoever fair and chafte Rejects mankind, is by fonte fylph embrac'd: For, fpirits, freed from mortal laws, with case Affume what fexes and what fhape they pleafe. 70 What guards the purity of melting maids, In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades, Safe from the treacherous friends, the daring spark, The glance by day, the whifper in the dark. When kind occafion prompts their warm defires, When music foftens, and when dancing fires? 'Tis but their fylph, the wife celeftials know, Though honour is the word with men below.
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