Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pafs, COMMENTARY, ; various depravations, the feveral forts of bad critics, and ranked them into two general Claffes; as the first fort, namely the men fpoiled by falfe learning, are but few in comparison of the other, and likewife come lefs within his main view (which is poetical Criticifm) but keep groveling at the bottom amongst words and fyllables, he thought it enough for his purpose here, just to have mentioned them, propofing to do them right hereafter. But the men spoiled by false taste are innumerable and These are his proper concern: He therefore, [from ver. 35 to 46.] fub-divides them again into the two claffes of the volatile and heavy: He defcribes, in few words, the quick progrefs of the One thro' Criticism, from falfe wit, to plain folly, where they end; and the fixed ftation of the Other between the confines of both; who under the name of Witlings, have neither end nor measure. A kind of half-formed creature from the equivocal generation of vivacity and dulness, like thofe on the banks of Nile, from heat and mud. NOTES. VER: 43. Their generation's fo equivocal:] It is fufficient that a principle of philofophy has been generally received, whether it be true or falfe, to juftify a poet's use of it to fet off his wit. But, to recommend his argument he should be cautious how he uses any but the true. For falfehood, when it is set too near the truth, will tarnish what it should brighten up. Befides, the analogy between natural and moral truth makes the principles of true Philofophy the fitteft for this ufe. Our Poet has been pretty careful in observing this rule. To tell 'em, would a hundred tongues require, Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire. 45 Be fure yourself and your own reach to know, COMMENTARY. VER. 46. But you who feek, etc.] Our Author having thus far, by way of INTRODUCTION, explained the nature, use, and abufe of Criticifm, 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 ver. 45 to 68. is, that he who fets up for a Critic should previously examine his own ftrength, and fee how far he is qualified for the exercife of his profeffion. He puts him in a way to make this discovery, in that admirable, direction given ver. 51. AND MARK THAT POINT WHERE SENSE AND DULNESS MEET. He had fhewn above, that Judgment, without Taste or Genius, is equally incapable of making a Critic or a Poet: In whatfoever fubject then the Critic's Tafte no longer accompanies his Judgment, there he may be affured he is going out of his depth. This our Author finely calls, that point where fenfe and dulnefs meet. And immediately adds the REASON of his precept; the Author of Nature having fo conftituted the mental faculties, that one of them can never greatly excel, but at the expence of another. From this ftate of coordination in the mental faculties, and the influence and effects they have upon one another, the Poet draws this CONSEQUENCE, that no one Genius can excell in more than one Art or Science. The confequence fhews the neceffity of the precept, just as the premises, from which the consequence is drawn, fhew the reasonableness of it. 55 Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, NOTES. 60 VER. 51. And mark that point where fenfe and dulnefs meet.] Befides the peculiar fenfe explained above in the comment, the words have ftill a more general meaning, and caution us against going on, when our Ideas begin to grow obfcure: as we are then most apt to do; tho' that obfcurity is an admonition that we fhould leave off; for it arifes either from our fmall acquaintance with the fubject, or the incomprehensibility of its nature. In which circumstances a Genius will always write as fadly as a Dunce. An obfervation well worth the attention of all profound writers. VER. 56. Thus in the foul while memory prevails, Where beams of warm imagination play, The memory's foft figures melt away.] Thefe obfervations are collected from an intimate knowledge of human nature. The cause of that languor and heavinefs in the understanding, which is almost infeparable from a very strong and tenacious memory, feems to be a want of the proper exercife of that faculty; the understanding being, in a great meafure, unactive, while the memory is cultivating. As to the other appearance, the decay of memory by the vigorous ex Not only bounded to peculiar arts, Like Kings we lose the conquests gain'd before, First follow Nature, and your judgment frame By her just standard, which is still the same: COMMENTARY. VER. 68. First follow Nature, etc.] The Critic obferving the directions before given, and now finding himself qualified for his office, is fhewn next, how to exercise it. And as he was to attend to Nature for a Call, fo he is first and principally to follow her when called. And here again in this, as in the foregoing precept, our Poet [from ver. 67 to 88.] fhews both the fitness and neceffity of it. I. It's fitness, 1. Because Nature is the fource of Poetic art; this art being only a representation of Nature, who is its great exemplar and original. 2. Because Nature is the end of Art; the defign of poetry being to convey the knowledge of NOTES. ercife of Fancy, the Poet himself feems to have intimated the caufe of it in the epithet he has given to the Imagination. For, if, according to the Atomic Philofophy, the memory of things be preserved in a chain of ideas, produced by the animal fpirits moving in continued trains; the force and rapidity of the Imagination, perpetually breaking and diffipating the links of this chain by forming new affociations, must neceffarily weaken and diforder the recollective faculty. VER. 67. Would all but stoop to what they understand. The expreffion is delicate, and implies what is very true, that most men think it a degradation of their genius to use it in cultivating what lies level to their comprehenfion, but had rather employ their talents in the ambitious attempt of fubduing what is placed above it. 70 Unerring NATURE, ftill divinely bright, COMMENTARY. Nature in the most agreeable manner. 3. Because Nature is the test of Art, as fhe is unerring, conftant, and still the fame. Hence the poet obferves, that as Nature is the fource, the conveys life to art: As fhe is the end, the conveys force to it, for the force of any thing arifes from its being directed to its end: And as fhe is the teft, fhe conveys beauty to it, for every thing acquires beauty by its being reduced to its true ftandard. Such is the fense of thofe two important lines, Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, At once the fource, and end, and test of Art. II. The neceffity of the precept is feen from hence. The two conftituent qualities of a Compofition, as fuch, are Art and Wit: But neither of these attains perfection, 'till the first be hid, and the other judiciously reftrained; this only happens 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 fo large a fund in the resources which Nature fupplies, difpofes every thing with fo much ease and fimplicity, that we fee nothing but those natural images it works with, while itself stands unobferv'd, behind: But when Art leaves Nature, misled either by the bold fallies of Fancy, or the quaint oddneffes of Fashion, fhe is then obliged at every step to come forward, in a painful or pompous oftentation, in order to cover, to foften, or to regulate the fhocking difproportion of unnatural images. In the first cafe, our Poet compares Art to the Soul within, informing a beauteous body; but in the laft, we are bid to confider it but as a mere outward garb, fitted only to hide the defects of a mis-fhapen one. As to Wit, it VOL. I. M |