(Q shame to free born Englishmen!) of morals and manners. Hence every thing, unless of French extraction, appears aukward and antiquated. Our poets write to the humour of the age; and when their own little stock is spent, they set themselves to work on new-modelling *Shakespeare's plays, and adapting them to the taft of their audience; by ftripping off their antique and proper tragic dress, and by introducing in these mock-tragedies, not only gallantry to women, but an endeavour to raise a ferious diftrefs from the disappointment of lovers; not confidering that the paffion of love, which one would think they should understand fomething of, is a comic paffion. In short " 4 Sir William Davenant, and Dryden, began this just after the restoration; and their example was foon followed by others. 5 Love is a paffion, in which the great and the little, the earthly and the heavenly, (to speak a little myfteriously) are fo blended and mixed together, as to make it the fittest fubject in the world for ridicule. Totus verò ifte, qui vulgò appellatur Amor, (nec hercule invenio, quo nomine alio poffit appellari) tantae levitatis eft, ut nibil videam, quod putem conferendum. O praeclaram emendationem vitae, Poeticam! quae Amorem, flagiti et levitatis auctorem, in concilio deorum conlocandum putet: DE COMOE DI A loquor : quae, fa baec flagitia non probaremus, nulla effet omnino. Cicera Tufcul. difp. iv. 32. they make up a poet of shreds and patches; fo that the ancient robe of our tragedian, by this miferable darning, and threadbare patchwork, resembles the long motley coat of the Fool, in our old plays, introduced to raise the laughter of the fpectators. And I am afraid, if the matter was minutely examined into, we fhould find, that many paffages, in fome late editions of our poet, have been altered, or added, or lopped off, entirely thro' modern, and French refinement. TH SECT. III. HE misfortune feems to be, that fcarcely any one pays a regard to what Shakespeare does write, but they are always guessing at what he should write; nor in any other light is he look'd on, than as a poor mechanic; a fellow, 'tis true, of genius, who fays, now and then, very good things, but wild and uncultivated ; and as one by no means proper company for lords and ladies, maids of honour and -court-pages, 'till fome poet or other, who knows the world better, takes him in hand, and introduces him in this modern dress to good company. Whatever Whatever be the opinion of the vulgar, whether the great vulgar or the fmall, is of no great concernment; but indeed it was a matter of some surprise to read the following account in a noble writer of a better taft: "Our old dra-. "matick poet may witness for our good ear "and manly relish [notwithstanding his natural "rudeness, bis unpolish'd ftile, bis antiquated phrafe "and wit, bis want of method and coberence, and "bis deficiency in almost all the graces and orna“ments of this kind of writing ;] yet by the juftnefs of his moral, the aptness of many of "his descriptions, and the plain and natural turn " of feveral of his characters; he pleases his au"dience, and often gains their ear, without a fingle bribe from luxury or vice." Those lines, that I have placed between two hooks, ought certainly to have been omitted, as they carry with them reflections falfe in every particular. Or fhall we play the critic, and suppose them fome marginal obfervation, not written by the learned Antony Afhley Cooper; and from hence by the blundering transcriber foifted into the context? 275. Characteristicks, vol. I. Advice to an author, p. 'Twas 'Twas through fuch wrong notions of refinement, that bishop Burnet was led into no less. mistakes concerning Milton. "He was not excepted out of the act of indemnity; and " afterwards he came out of his concealment, " and lived many years, much visited by all ftrangers, and much admired by all at home "for the poems he writ, tho' he was then blind, "chiefly that of Paradise loft, in which there is "a nobleness both of contrivance and execution, "that [tho' be affected to write in blank verse with“out rhyme, and made many new and rough words] yet it was esteemed the beautifulleft and per"fecteft poem that ever was writ, at least in our language." This cenfure falls equally on Shakespeare ; 68 2 Burnet's hiftory of his own times, vol. I. p. 163. Mr. Richardson tells us, that Sir William Davenant procured Milton's pardon. See his remarks, p. LXXXIX. Perhaps bishop Burnet took his cenfure from Dryden's dedication before the tranflation of Juvenal; where he says, that Milton" runs into a flat of thought sometimes for a hundred lines together: that he was transported too far in the use of obsolete words: and that he can by no means approve of his choice of blank verfe." Dryden might be willing the world should think this true, in order that his own wares might go off the better. The folly is to be caught. But Burnet was not particular in his opi nion, 'twas the reigning tast of the age: to comply with Shakespeare; for he too wrote in blank verse without rhyme, and made many new and rough words. But let Milton speak for himself and his admired Shakespeare, for doubtless he means him, in his apology prefixed to the Paradife loft. "The "measure is English heroic verfe without rime, "as that of Homer in Greek and Virgil in "Latin, rime being no neceffary adjunct or "true ornament of poem or good verse, in long "works especially, but the invention of a bar which, Dryden turned the Paradise loft into rime, calling it, The State of Innocence, and Fall of Man, For which he received the complements of his poetical brothers: hear one of them. For Milton did the wealthy mine difclose, And RUDELY caft what you cou'd well difpofe. He ROUGHLY drew, on an OLD FASHION'D ground You took her thence: To court this virgin brought, And fofteft language, sweetest manners taught. There fpoke the courtiers and poets of Charles's reign a this was their taft: and exactly fo did they serve, and judge of Shakespeare. "barous |