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it is, to imitate Pindar, yet, in his most elevated flights, and in the fudden changes of his subject with almoft imperceptible connexions, that Theban Poet is his master. But Horace is of the more bounded fancy, and confines himself strictly to one fort of verse, or stanza, in every Ode. That which will diftinguish his ftyle from all other Poets, is the elegance of his words, and the numerousness of his verse. There is nothing fo delicately turned in all the Roman language. There appears in every part of his diction, or (to speak English) in all his expreffions, a kind of noble and bold purity. His words are chosen with as much exactness as Virgil's; but there seems to be a greater spirit in them. There is a secret happiness attends his choice, which in Petronius is called Curiofa Felicitas, and which I suppofe he had from the Feliciter audere of Horace himself. But the most distinguishing part of all his character feems to me to be his brifknefs, his jollity, anď his good humour: and those I have chiefly endeavoured to copy. His other excellencies, I confefs, are above my imitation. One Ode, which infinitely pleafed me in the reading, I have attempted to tranflate in Pindaric Verfe: it is that, which is infcribed to the present Earl of Rochester, to whom I have particular obligations, which this fmall teftimony of my gratitude can never pay. It is his darling in the Latin, and I have taken fome pains to make it my master-piece in English: for which reason I took this kind of verfe, which allows more latitude than any other. Every one knows it was introduced into our language, in this age, by the happy genius of Mr. Cowley. The feeming cafiness of it has made it fpread: but it has not been confidered enough, to be fo well cultivated. It languishes in almost every hand but his, and some very few, whom (to keep the reft

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in countenance) I do not name. He, indeed, has brought it as near perfection as was poffible in so short a time. But if I may be allowed to speak my mind modeftly, and without injury to his facred afhes, fomewhat of the purity of the English, somewhat of more equal thoughts, fomewhat of sweetness in the numbers, in one word, fomewhat of a finer turn, and more Lyrical Verfe, is yet wanting. As for the foul of it, which confifts in the warmth and vigour of fancy, the mafterly figures, and the copioufness of imagination, he has excelled all others in this kind. Yet if the kind itself be capable of more perfection, though rather in the ornamental parts of it, than the effential, what rules of morality or refpect have I broken, in naming the defects, that they may hereafter be amended? Imitation is a nice point, and there are few Poets who deserve to be models in all they write, Milton's Paradife Loft is admirable; but am I therefore bound to maintain, that there are no flats against his elevations, when 'tis evident he creeps along fometimes for above an hundred lines together? Cannot I admire the height of his invention, and the ftrength of his expreffion, without defending his antiquated words, and the perpetual harshness of their found? It is as much commendation as a man can bear, to own him excellent; all beyond it is idolatry. Since Pindar was the prince of Lyric Poets, let me have leave to fay, that, in imitating him, our numbers fhould, for the most part, be Lyrical. For variety, or rather where the majefty of thought requires it, they may be ftretched to the English Heroic of five feet, and to the French Alexandrine of fix. But the ear muft prefide, and direct the judgment to the choice of numbers. With out the nicety of this, the harmony of Pindaric Verfe can never be complete; the candency of one

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line must be a rule to that of the next: and the found of the former must flide gently into that which follows; without leaping from one extreme into another. It must be done like the fhadowings of a picture, which fall by degrees into a darker colour. I fhall be glad, if I have fo explained myself as to be understood; but if I have not, quod nequeo dicere & fentio tantùm, must be my excufe. There remains much more to be faid on this fubject; but, to avoid envy, I will be filent. What I have faid is the general opinion of the best judges, and in a manner has been forced from me, by feeing a noble fort of Poetry fo happily restored by, one man, and fo grofly copied by almost all the reft. A mufical ear, and a great genius, if another Mr. Cowley could arife in another age, may bring it to perfection. In the mean time,

--Fungar vice cotis, acutum

Reddere quæ ferrum valet, exfors ipfa fecandi, To conclude, I am fenfible that I have written this too hastily and too loofly: I fear I have been tedious, and, which is worfe, it comes out from the first draught, and uncorrected. This I grant is no excufe: for it may be reasonably urged, why did he not write with more leifure, or, if he had it not (which was certainly my cafe) why did he attempt to write on so nice a subject? the objection is unanswerable; but, in part of recompence, let me affure the reader, that, in hafty productions, he is fure to meet with an author's prefent fenfe, which cooler thoughts would poffibly have difguifed. There is undoubtedly more of fpirit, tho' not of judgment, in these uncorrect Effays, and confequently, though my hazard be the greater, yet the reader's pleasure is not the less.

JOHN DRYDEN.

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