reverence, boaft of much more than of having diffufed and paraphrased this epitome of excellence, of having changed Dryden's gold for bafer metal, of lower value, though of greater bulk.

In this, and in all his other effays on the fame subject, the criticism of Dryden is the criticism of a poet; not a dull collection of theorems, nor a rude detection of faults, which perhaps the cenfor was not able to have committed; but a gay and vigorous differtation, where delight is mingled with instruction, and where the author proves his right of judgment by his power of performance.

The different manner and effect with which critical knowledge may be conveyed, was perhaps never more clearly exemplified than in the performances of Rymer and Dryden. It was faid of a difpute between two mathematicians, " malim cum Scaligero errare, quam cum Clavio rectè fapere ;" that" it was more eligible to go wrong with one, than right "with the other." A tendency of the fame kind every mind muft feel at the perufal of Dryden's prefaces and Rymer's difcourfes. With Dryden we are wandering in quest of Truth; whom we find, if we find her at all, dreft in the graces of elegance; and, if we miss her, the labour of the pursuit rewards itself: we are led only through fragrance and flowers. Rymer, without taking a nearer, takes a rougher way; every step is to be made through thorns and brambles; and Truth, if we meet her, appears repulfive by her mien, and ungraceful by her habit. Dryden's criticifin has the majesty of a queen; Rymer's has the ferocity of a tyrant.

As he had studied with great diligence the art of Poetry, and enlarged or rectified his notions, by experience perpetually increasing, he had his mind stored with principles and obfervations; he poured out his knowledge with little labour; for of labour, notwithstanding the multiplicity of his productions, there is fufficient reafon to fufpect that he was not a lover. To write con amore, with fondness for the employment, with perpetual touches and retouches, with unwilling

ness to take leave of his own idea, and an unwearied pursuit of unattainable perfection, was, I think, no part of his character.

His criticism may be confidered as general or occafional. In his general precepts, which depend upon the nature of things, and the ftructure of the human mind, he may doubtless be fafely recommended to the confidence of the reader; but his occafional and particular pofitions were fometimes interested, sometimes negligent, and fometimes capricious. It is not without reason that Trapp, speaking of the praises which he bestows on Palamon and Arcite, fays, " Novimus judicium "Drydeni de poemate quodam Chauceri, pulchro fane illo, " & admodum laudando, nimirum quod non modo vere epi"cum fit, fed Iliada etiam atque Æneada æquet, imo fuperet. "Sed novimus eodem tempore viri illius maximi non femper " accuratiffimas effe cenfuras, nec ad feveriffimam critices "normam exactas: illo judice id plerumque optimum eft, quod nunc præ manibus habet, & in quo nunc occu"patur."

He is therefore by no means constant to himself. His defence and desertion of dramatick rhyme is generally known. Spence, in his remarks on Pope's Odyffey, produces what he thinks an unconquerable quotation from Dryden's preface to the Æneid, in favour of tranflating an epic poem into blank verfe; but he forgets that when his author attempted the Iliad, fome years afterwards, he departed from his own decifion, and tranflated into rhyme.

When he has any objection to obviate, or any licence to defend, he is not very fcrupulous about what he afferts, nor very cautious, if the prefent purpose be served, not to entangle himself in his own fophiftries. But, when all arts are exhaufted, like other hunted animals, he fometimes stands at bay; when he cannot difown the grofsnefs of one of his plays, he declares that he knows not any law that prescribes morality to a comick poet.

His remarks on ancient or modern writers are not always to be trufted. His parallel of the verfification of Ovid with that of Claudian has been very juftly cenfured by Sewel*. His comparison of the first line of Virgil with the first of Statius is not happier. Virgil, he fays, is foft and gentle, and would have thought Statius mad, if he had heard him thundering out

Quæ fuperimpofito moles geminata coloffo.

Statius perhaps heats himself, as he proceeds, to exaggeration fomewhat hyperbolical; but undoubtedly Virgil would have been too hafty, if he had condemned him to straw for one founding line. Dryden wanted an inftance, and the first that occurred was impreft into the service.

What he wishes to fay, he fays at hazard; he cited Gorbuduc, which he had never feen; gives a false account of Chapman's verfification; and discovers, in the preface to his Fables, that he tranflated the first book of the Iliad without knowing what was in the fecond.

It will be difficult to prove that Dryden ever made any great advances in literature. As having distinguished himself at Westminster under the tuition of Bufby, who advanced his scholars to a height of knowledge very rarely attained in grammar-schools, he refided afterwards at Cambridge; it is not to be supposed, that his skill in the ancient languages was deficient, compared with that of common students; but his fcholaftic acquifitions feem not proportionate to his opportu nities and abilities. He could not, like Milton or Cowley, have made his name illuftrious merely by his learning. He mentions but few books, and thofe fuch as lie in the beaten track of regular study; from which if ever he departs, he is in danger of lofing himself in unknown regions.

In his Dialogue on the Drama, he pronounces with great confidence that the Latin tragedy of Medea is not Ovid's,

• Preface to Ovid's Metamorphofes. Dr. J.

because it is not fufficiently interesting and pathetic. He might have determined the question upon furer evidence; for it is quoted by Quintilian as the work of Seneca; and the only line which remains in Ovid's play, for one line is left us, is not there to be found. There was therefore no need of the gravity of conjecture, or the difcuffion of plot or fentiment, to find what was already known upon higher authority than such difcuffions can ever reach.

His literature, though not always free from oftentation, will be commonly found either obvious, and made his own by the art of dreffing it; or fuperficial, which, by what he gives, fhews what he wanted; or erroneous, haftily collected, and negligently scattered.

Yet it cannot be faid that his genius is ever unprovided of matter, or that his fancy languishes in penury of ideas. His works abound with knowledge, and sparkle with illustrations. There is scarcely any science or faculty that does not supply him with occafional images and lucky fimilitudes; every page discovers a mind very widely acquainted both with art and nature, and in full poffeffion of great ftores of intellectual wealth. Of him that knows much it is natural to suppose that he has read with diligence: yet I rather believe that the knowledge of Dryden was gleaned from accidental intelligence and various conversation, by a quick apprehension, a judicious selection, and a happy memory; a keen appetite of knowledge, and a powerful digeftion; by vigilance that permitted nothing to pass without notice, and a habit of reflection that fuffered nothing useful to be loft. A mind like Dryden's, always curious, always active, to which every understanding was proud to be affociated, and of which every one folicited the regard, by an ambitious difplay of himself, had a more pleasant, perhaps a nearer way to knowledge than by the filent progress of folitary reading. I do not suppose that he despised books, or intentionally neglected them; but that he was carried out, by the impetuofity of his genius, to more vivid and speedy instructors; and that his studies were

rather defultory and fortuitous than conftant and fyftematical.

It must be confeffed that he scarcely ever appears to want book-learning but when he mentions books; and to him may be transferred the praise which he gives his master Charles:

His converfation, wit, and parts,

His knowledge in the nobleft ufeful arts,
Were fuch, dead authors could not give,
But habitudes of those that live:

Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive;
He drain'd from all, and all they knew,
His apprehenfions quick, his judgement true;
That the moft learn'd with fhame confefs,
His knowledge more, his reading only lefs.

Of all this, however, if the proof be demanded, I will not undertake to give it: the atoms of probability, of which my opinion has been formed, lie fcattered over all his works; and by him who thinks the question worth his notice, his works must be perused with very close attention.

Criticism, either didactick or defenfive, occupies almost all his profe, except thofe pages which he has devoted to his patrons; but none of his prefaces were ever thought tedious. They have not the formality of a settled ftyle, in which the first half of the fentence betrays the other. The clauses are never balanced, nor the periods modelled: every word seems to drop by chance, though it falls into its proper place. Nothing is cold or languid: the whole is airy, animated, and vigorous; what is little, is gay; what is great, is fplendid. He may be thought to mention himself too frequently; but, while he forces himself upon our esteem, we cannot refuse him to ftand high in his own. Every thing is excufed by the play of images, and the fprightlinefs of expreffion. Though all is eafy, nothing is feeble; though all seems careless, there is nothing harsh; and though, fince his earlier works more than

VOL. I.