[]THE BEAUTIES OF ENGLISH POESY.

This ſeems to be Mr. Pope's moſt finiſhed produc⯑tion, and is, perhaps, the moſt perfect in our language. It exhibits ſtronger powers of imagina⯑tion, more harmony of numbers, and a greater knowledge of the world, than any other of this poet's works: and it is probable, if our country were called upon to ſhew a ſpecimen of their ge⯑nius to foreigners, this would be the work here fixed upon.

This poem is held in juſt eſteem, the verſification being chaſte, and tolerably harmonious, and the ſtory told with perſpicuity and conciſeneſs. It ſeems to have coſt great labour, both to Mr. Pope, and Parnell himſelf, to bring it to this perfection. It may not be amiſs to obſerve, that the fable is taken from one of Dr. Henry Moore's Dialogues.

I have heard a very judicious critic ſay, that he had an higher idea of Milton's ſtile in poetry, from the two following poems, than from his Paradiſe Loſt. It is certain the imagination ſhewn in them is correct and ſtrong. The introduction to both in irregular meaſure is borrowed from the Italians, and hurts an Engliſh ear.

This is a very fine poem, but overloaded with epi⯑thet. The heroic meaſure with alternate rhime is very properly adapted to the ſolemnity of the ſub⯑ject, as it is the ſloweſt movement that our language admits of. The latter part of the poem is pa⯑thetic and intereſting.

This poem of Mr. Johnſon's is the beſt imitation of the original that has appeared in our language, being poſſeſſed of all the force and ſatyrical re⯑ſentment of Juvenal. Imitation gives us a much truer idea of the ancients than even tranſlation could do.

This poem is one of thoſe happineſſes in which a poet excels himſelf, as there is nothing in all Shenſtone which any way approaches it in merit; and, though I diſlike the imitations of our old Engliſh poets in general, yet, on this minute ſubject, the antiquity of the ſtyle produces a very ludicrous ſolemnity.

This poem, by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in deſcription, yet deſerves the higheſt applauſe, as it far ſurpaſſes all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very maſ⯑terly.

The harmony of numbers in this poem is very fine. It is rather drawn out to too tedious a length, altho' the paſſions vary with great judgement. It may be conſidered as ſuperior to any thing in the epiſtolary way; and the many tranſlations which have been made of it into the modern languages, are, in ſome meaſure, a proof of this.

Few poems have done more honour to Engliſh ge⯑nius than this. There is in it a ſtrain of po⯑litical thinking that was, at that time, new in our poetry. Had the harmony of this been equal to that of Pope's verſification, it would be in⯑conteſtibly the fineſt poem in our language; but there is a dryneſs in the numbers which greatly leſſens the pleaſure excited both by the poet's judgement and imagination.

This ode has been more applauded, perhaps, than it has been felt; however, it is a very fine one, and gives its beauties rather at a third, or fourth, than at a firſt, peruſal.

This ode has by many been thought equal to the former. As it is a repetition of Dryden's man⯑ner, it is ſo far inferior to him. The whole hint of Orpheus, with many of the lines, have been taken from an obſcure Ode upon Muſic, publiſhed in Tate's Miſcellanies.

Theſe are Mr. Gay's principal performance. They were originally intended, I ſuppoſe, as a bur⯑leſque on thoſe of Philips; but, perhaps without deſigning it, he has hit the true ſpirit of paſtoral poetry. In fact, he more reſembles Theocritus than any other Engliſh paſtoral writer whatſo⯑ever. There runs through the whole a ſtrain of ruſtic pleaſantry which ſhould ever diſtinguiſh this ſpecies of compoſition; but how far the an⯑tiquated expreſſions uſed here may contribute to the humour, I will not determine; for my own part, I could wiſh the ſimplicity were preſerved, without recurring to ſuch obſolete antiquity for the manner of expreſſing it.

The ſeverity of this ſatire, and the excellence of its verſification, give it a diſtinguiſhed rank in this ſpecies of compoſition. At preſent, an ordinary reader would ſcarce ſuppoſe that Shadwell, who is here meant by Mac Flecknoe, was worth being chaſtiſed, and that Dryden's deſcending to ſuch game was like an eagle's ſtooping to catch flies. The truth, however, is, Shadwell, at one time, held divided reputation with this great poet. Every age produces its faſhionable dunces, who, by following the tranſient topic, or humour, of the day, ſupply talkative ignorance with materials for converſation.

Here follows one of the beſt verſified poems in our language, and the moſt maſterly produc⯑tion of its author. The ſeverity with which Walpole is here treated, was in conſequence of that miniſter's having refuſed to provide for Swift in England, when applied to for that purpoſe in the year 1725 (if I remember right). The ſe⯑verity of a poet, however, gave Walpole very little uneaſineſs. A man whoſe ſchemes, like this miniſter's, ſeldom extended beyond the exi⯑gency of the year, but little regarded the con⯑tempt of poſterity.

This poem, as Mr. Pope tells us himſelf, coſt much attention and labour; and, from the eaſineſs that appears in it, one would be apt to think as much.

This ſixth canto of the Diſpenſary, by Dr. Garth, has more merit than the whole preceding part of the poem, and, as I am told, in the firſt edition of this work it is more correct than as here ex⯑hibited; but that edition I have not been able to find. The praiſes beſtowed, on this poem are more than have been given to any other; but our approbation, at preſent, is cooler, for it owed part of its fame to party.

The following eclogues, written by Mr. Collins, are very pretty: the images, it muſt be owned, are not very local; for the paſtoral ſubject could not well admit of it. The deſcription of Aſiatic mag⯑nificence, and manners, is a ſubject as yet unat⯑tempted amongſt us, and, I believe, capable of furniſhing a great variety of poetical imagery.

This is reckoned the beſt parody of Milton in our language: it has been an hundred times imitated, without ſucceſs. The truth is, the firſt thing in this way muſt preclude all future attempts; for nothing is ſo eaſy as to burleſque any man's man⯑ner, when we are once ſhewed the way.

Mr. Hawkins Browne, the author of theſe, as I am told, had no good original manner of his own, yet we ſee how well he ſucceeds when he turns an imitator; for the following are rather imitations, than ridiculous parodies.