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THE Vanity of Expence in People of Wealth and Quality. The abuse of the word Tafte, ver. 13That the first principle and foundation in this, as in every thing elfe, is Good fenfe, ver. 40. The chief proof of it is to follow Nature, even in works of mere Luxury and Elegance. Inftanced in Architecture and Gardening, where all must be adapted to the Genius and Ufe of the Place, and the Beauties not forced into it, but refulting from it, ver. 50, How men are disappointed in their most expensive undertakings, fot want of this true Foundation, without which nothing can please long, if at all; and the best Examples and Rules will but be perverted into fomething burdenfome or ridiculous, ver, 65, &c. to 92. A defcription of the false Taste of Magnificence; the first grand error of which is to imagine
that Greatness confifts in the Size and Dimenfion, instead of the Proportion and Harmony of the whole, ver. 97. and the second, either in joining together Parts incoherent, or too minutely refembling, or in the Repetition of the fame too frequently, ver. 105, &c. A word or two of falfe Tafte in Books, in Mufic, in Painting, even in Preaching and Prayer, and laftly in Entertainments, ver. 133, &c. Yet PROVIDENCE is justified in giving Wealth to be fquandered in this manner, fince it is difperfed to the Poor and Laborious part of mankind, ver. 169. [recurring to what is laid down in the first Book, Ep. ii. and in the epiftle preceding this, ver. 159, &c.] What are the proper Objets of Magnificence, and a proper field for the Expence of Great Men, ver. 177, &c. and finally the Great and Public Works which become a Prince, ver. 191, to the end.
'TIS ftrange, the Mifer should his Cares employ
For what has Virro painted, built, and planted? Only to fhew, how many tastes he wanted. What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to wafte? Some Daemon whisper'd, " Vifto! have a Taste." Heav'n vifits with a Tafte the Wealthy fool, And needs no Rod but Ripley with a Rule. See! fportive Fate, to punifh aukward pride, Bids Bubo build, and fends him fuch a Guide: A standing fermon, at each year's expence, That never Coxcomb reach'd Magnificence !
You how us, Rome was glorious, not profufe, And pompous Buildings once were things of Ufe. Yet fhall (my Lord) your juft, your noble rules Fill half the land with imitating-Fools;
Who random drawings from your sheets fhall take,
Load fome vain Church with old Theatric ftate,
That, lac'd with bits of ruftic, makes a Front:
Good fenfe, which only is the gift of Heav'n,
To build, to plant, whatever you intend,
But treat the Goddess like a modest fair,
Confult the Genius of the Place in all; That tells the Waters or to rife, or fall; Or helps th' ambitious Hill the heav'ns to scale, Or fcoops in circling theatres the Vale; Calls in the country, catches op'ning glades, Joins willing woods, and varies fhades from shades; Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending Lines; Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs. Still follow Sense, of ev'ry art the foul, Parts anfw'ring parts shall slide into a whole, Spontaneous beauties all around advance, Start ev'n from Difficulty, ftrike from Chence; Nature fhall join you; Time fhall make it grow A work to wonder at-perhaps a Srow.
Without it, proud Verfailles! thy glory falls; And Nero's Terraces defert their walls:
The vaft Parterres a thousand hands fhall make,
Behold Villario's ten years toil complete;
With filver quiv'ring rills meander'd o'er-
Thro' his young Woods how pleas'd Sabinus ftray'd, Or fate delighted in the thick'ning fhade, With annual joy the red'ning fhoots to greet, Or fee the stretching branches long to meet! His Son's fine taste an op'ner Vista loves, Foe to the Dryads of his father's groves; One boundless Green, or flourish'd carpet views, With all the mournful family of Yews; The thriving plants, ignoble broomstics made, Now sweep thofe Alleys they were born to fhade. At Timon's Villa let us pafs a day, Where all cry out. What fums are thrown away!" So proud, fo grand; of that stupendous air, Soft and Agreeable come never there,