If once right reason drives that cloud away, 215 A little learning is a dangerous thing: Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : There, shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again. Fired at first sight with what the Muse imparts, In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts, 220 While from the bounded level of our mind, Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind; But more advanced, behold, with strange surprise, New distant scenes of endless science rise. So pleased at first the towering Alps we try, 225 Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky; The eternal snows appear already pass'd, 230 And the first clouds and mountains seem the last: A perfect judge will read each work of wit 232 Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. Johnson lavishes panegyric on this simile, as the most apt, the most proper, and the most sublime of any in the English language:' he omits to mention that the simile, and of course the panegyric, belong to another. Warton gives the passage almost word for word from Drummond : All as a pilgrim who the Alpes doth passe Till mounting some tall mountaine, he doth finde Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find, Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind; Nor lose for that malignant, dull delight, But the joint force and full result of all. 236 240 245 Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome, (The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!) No single parts unequally surprise; All comes united to the admiring eyes; 250 No monstrous height, or breadth, or length ap pear; The whole at once is bold and regular. 255 Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be. In every work regard the writer's end, Since none can compass more than they intend; And if the means be just, the conduct true, Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due. As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, To avoid great errors, must the less commit: 260 Neglect the rules each verbal critic lays; For not to know some trifles, is a praise. Most critics, fond of some subservient art, Still make the whole depend upon a part: They talk of principles, but notions prize; 265 Once on a time, La Mancha's knight, they say, A certain bard encountering on the way, Discoursed in terms as just, with looks as sage, As e'er could Dennis, of the Grecian stage; Concluding all were desperate sots and fools, Who durst depart from Aristotle's rules. Our author, happy in a judge so nice, 270 Produced his play, and begg'd the knight's advice; "What! leave the combat out?' exclaims the knight. Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite. 280 'Not so, by Heaven!' he answers in a rage; Knights, squires, and steeds must enter on the stage.' So vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain. 'Then build a new, or act it in a plain.' Thus critics of less judgment than caprice, 285 Curious not knowing, not exact but nice, Form short ideas; and offend in arts, As most in manners, by a love to parts. 289 Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And glittering thoughts struck out at every line; Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit; One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. 267 Once on a time La Mancha's knight. An allusion to a story in the 'Second Part of Don Quixote,' written by Alonzo Avellanada, and translated by Le Sage. 295 Poets, like painters, thus, unskill'd to trace As bodies perish through excess of blood. 300 Others for language all their care express; 305 Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found: 310 A vile conceit, in pompous words express'd, 320 Some by old words to fame have made pretence; Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense; Such labor'd nothings, in so strange a style, 326 Amaze the unlearn'd, and make the learned smile. These sparks with awkward vanity display 330 As apes our grandsires, in their doublets dress'd. In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold ; Alike fantastic, if too new or old : Be not the first by whom the new are tried, 335 Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. But most by numbers judge a poet's song, And smooth or rough with them is right or wrong: In the bright Muse though thousand charms con spire, Her voice is all these tuneful fools admire ; 340 345 324 Some by old words to fame have made pretence. The adoption of obsolete phrases must be injurious to poetry; for that which is not capable of being understood is not capable of being felt but Gray, a true critic, pronounces that the language of the age is never the language of poetry:' he might have added, nor is the language of vulgarity the language of nature; though this dogma has been stoutly fought for. 328 Fungoso. Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humor.' |