is so proper to explain the Rules of the Art, as he, who never wrote any: For it would be a Miracle if the former were not seduced by Self-love; whereas the latter is disinterested, and the more likely to be an impartial Judge. Again, if it was necessary to be a good poet to make Criticisms on Poetry, we should never have had any Critick at all; for I do not know one Critick upon Poetry, that was himself a Poet. By this one would think, that he did not look upon Rapin as a Critick in Poetry, for he wrote a Poem on Gardening. Menage makes as little of him as Dacier; yet Dryden says, were all the Writings of other Criticks lost, Rapin's Works alone would be sufficient to teach us the whole Art of Criticism. We all know Aristotle and Horace wrote upon Epick Poetry and Tragedy, yet neither of them ever wrote a Tragedy or Epick Poem; and perhaps neither of them would have succeeded if he had. Rymer made one poor Attempt that Way in his Edgar: But, as if it had been written only to prove that a Man may judge well of an Art, without being a Performer, like an ill-built Ship, it sunk in the very launching, and seem'd to be written only to be damned.

The Guardian seconds the Spectator, and forbids any one to criticise, that cannot write to Perfection. If I find by his own Manner of Writing, that he is heavy and tasteless, I throw aside his Criticisms with a secret Indignation, to see a Man without Genius or Politeness, dictating to the World on Subjects which I find are above his Reach. Thus Mr. Rymer, the best Critick we had till then, and all his Rules, are void and of no Effect; He has cancelled them with a Dash of his Pen. If a Man must not only have Politeness, but a Genius, what will become of Aristotle and Longinus, Bossu and Dacier? They were all polite Writers, but have not discover'd that they had Genius. I ever had as little Opinion of heavy tasteless Criticks as the Spectator or Guardian, yet I never could endure an arbitrary Judgement; for, what else is tasteless and heavy without Proof? But then, that Proof could not be produced without the Criticisms, which, let them be ever so poor, are often more easily despis'd than answer'd.

I was always convinced by Example, that a Critick may have a just Taste, without being a Poet; and that the Indignation the Guardian speaks of, is never provoked, unless a weak Place is hit upon: As, in the low Phrase, A galled Horse winces when you touch the Sore. In three or four Lines, we have tasteless, heavy, dogmatical, stupid Macer and Mundungus all of the poor Criticks. Had they been really such stupid Creatures, they could not have given such Offence. Hard Words shew Anger more than Indignation, and we are apt to conjecture, that the Poets would not be so angry with the Criticks, if they were not afraid of them. The Concern of the former is wonderfully generous; they are not in Pain for what the Criticks say of their Errours and Failings, but for the Heaviness and Stupidity of their Criticisms. Thus in the lowest Life, we shall often hear one angry Woman cry out of another, I do not matter what she said of me, but to see the Impudence of the Slut. Macer and Mundungus are taken from Mr. Congreve's Epistle to Sir Richard Temple;

If the Guardian had the Critick upon Cato in his Thoughts, when he quoted those Verses, which I suppose he had, why does he mention rhiming Criticisms? That Author wrote his Rules and Remarks always in Prose, so did Rymer; what then do they all mean by rugged Verse? The Lord Roscommon's Poetry is Harmony it self. The last Essay upon Criticism in Verse was not then written. There remains only the late Duke of Buckingham's Poetical Essay, of Note enough to be remembered by Mr. Congreve: That could not be named, without offending good Breeding, a Term very often made use of by two elegant Authors; who, I much question, had never the Education of a Dancing-Master. However, Poetry and Criticism are perfect Levellers, and no Man can plead Privilege in the Court of Parnassus; what then is the Meaning of the next Lines after Mundungus?