All these the Architect must study well;

From the proud Palace to the humble Cell.

The barren Mountain, and the rural Shade;

The mingled gay Profusion, Nature made,

To fit and tally, Art requires his Skill, }

From the moist Meadow; to the brown-brow'd Hill,

The silent shady Grove, or silver Rill.

To give a Grandeur to the Opening Lawn;

And pleasing Softness, to the solemn Dawn;

To join the vivid, with the vernal Bloom;

Where scarce a Sun Beam wanders thro' the Gloom.

This is the Art's Perfection well to know;

To charm the Sense, and bid the Bosom glow:

Teach us to imitate the Ancients well;

And where the Moderns we should still excell.

Make the Pavilion proper for the Spot,

Or the gay Temple, or the graver Grot.

Adorn your Villa with the nicest Art,

And let your Dress, be just in every Part;

Appropriate well, the Ornaments you choose;

But not alone for Gaiety; but Use.

In a warm Climate where the Tyber flows;

Where in the Soil, the obdurate Marble grows,

There on the Spot, make choice of what you will,

But HERE to use it, would be want of Skill:

And 'tis an equal Fault of those alone;

Who vainly imitate a Portland-Stone,

The dryer Climates, cherish Stucco there,

But Rains, and colder Snows, destroy it here.

Avoid, as much as in you lyes, to place,

Festoons, or looser Ornament for Grace:

Few let the Carvings be; for outside Dress:

A Boldness rather should your Thoughts express,

Redundancy, and Neatness will be lost:

And but to finish HIGH; is needless Cost.

But then, regard to Distance must be had:

If near the Eye, the Fault would be as bad.

S——d, in Spite of Reason and of Sense,

With all those Faults, and Follies will dispense;

Carv'd Fronts, and Stucco decorated still,

Without Regard to place, the Fabrick fill:

'Tis meant perhaps some Fracture to conceal,

Though frequent so; the more it does reveal:

Such are the Reasons, should our Practice sway,

And where the strongest plead, we should obey,

The most demonstrative, the safest are;

And what are not, we should avoid with Care:

As you'd fly Scylla, or Charybdis shun,

Or Tricks of Scapin, Harlequin, or Lun.

Convenience first, then Beauty is a Part,

And Strength must be Assistant to the Art.

A little Seat, a Neatness will require:

A Palace claims a more majestick Fire,

That made for Decency; for Grandeur this,

And even Profuseness, may be not amiss.

Here a long vista'd Chain of Rooms of State,

To entertain the Attendants on the Great,

The glittering Dress, to catch the Gazer's Sight,

At once to give Surprise; and to delight.

The Greeks to three, confined the stated Rules,

And only those, were known in public Schools;

Till Rome the Tuscan, and Composite join'd,

To enrich the Art, and to improve Mankind,

From these alone, all Modes, all Orders spring

To build a Cell, or Palace for a King.

First the grave Dorick Mode; for Use was form'd,

When in its Infant-State, and unadorn'd:

'Twas Entertainment for the sager Few,

And pleas'd the Times, till something started new:

Then the gay, Lydian Mode; in Order rose,

And Art to Art, they wantonly oppose:

For Men grew fickle by Prosperity,

Study'd new Arts, and Ease and Luxury.

At length the rich Corinthian's gayer Dress

The Artist's Decorations, well express.

The Goths first introduc'd the frantick Way

Of forming Apes, or Monsters, wild as they

Because the Tumult, fond of Tricks and Apes,

Lov'd such Variety, and antick Shapes.

But K——t has no Excuse, to copy these,

Unless he has; NO other Way to please.

The Modern Artists, all their Genius show

In a Venetian-Window, or a Bow.

The Cell, the Temple, Palace, Villa, all }

Must have a Window, they Venetian call,

Or Bow; to grace a Grotto, or a Hall.

A little Structure; built for Use alone,

Requires no Dress, nor Ornament of Stone:

The Plainest, Neatest, Method is the best:

One simple Modus, governs all the rest.

The Villa next with Ornament you blend;

The gay and pleasing through the whole extend;

The Temple, or the Gayer-Palace will,

In Decoration, try your utmost Skill.

Learn of Palladio, how to deck a Space;

Of Jones you'll learn Magnificence, and Grace:

Campbell will teach, the Beauty they impart;

And Gibbs, the Rules and Modus of the Art:

Keep still these Rules, and Methods, in your Sight;

Read them by Day, and meditate by Night.

But V—b—h was admir'd, in Anna's Days,

And even his Blenheim, would excite some Praise.

And H—s—r travell'd in the same dull Road,

And trod the Footsteps, which his Master trod:

But Boyle and Pembroke, have the Art restor'd;

And distant Ages will their Fame record.

See the old Goths, in K——'s Designs survive;

And Modern Fools, to imitate his strive:

Renouncing all the Rules the Romans had,

Are past reclaiming, obstinately mad.

Drunken N—c-a, with a Front direct,

Or stupid B——s, makes such an Architect;

Unhappy I!——But Fortune stept between:

And proper Physick cur'd me of the Spleen.

And now I'm satisfy'd to keep my Sense:

Make Rules my Guide, to plead in my Defence:

Give to the Roman Sciences their Due:

And write, to whet that Appetite, in you.

Tell what the Duty of a Builder is,

Point out what's Right in Practice; what's amiss.

Shew where, and how to decorate with Skill,

What Ornaments are just, and what are ill.

Shew how the Judgment, should conduct the Art,

And where Judiciousness, directs the Part;

Where proper Situation claims our Care;

Where Rules should guide; and where most useful are.

The Architect, all Ranks of Men should know,

And when, and where, to bid his Genius flow

To swell the Rules, for Majesty, and State,

To equal all the Grandeur of the Great;

To serve the Use of Senators, or Kings,

And be the Source, from whence all Science springs.

Sometimes in old Designs, you Grandeur view,

And even in Negligence, find something new.

But modern Youth are taught to sing, and dance,

And learn the Follies, and the Modes of France;

Neglecting Method, Order, Time, or Sense,

With all their Jargon, and their Modes dispense.

They make the Dorick, and Corinthian mix;

And with th' Ionian, the Composite fix.

The Grave and Gay, in one long Range extend;

And with the Solemn, the Profusive blend.

Can Structures, built by such a Builder, live?

Will A—f—y, think you; C—p—n survive?

Will O—k—y, B——s, and some whom I could name?

Whose Works already; DAMN them into Fame.

Will they, or not, all Rules, all Modes deface.

Invert all Order, and the Art disgrace?

Will B—f—w; M—d—n; Fools by Nature made

Will they encrease, or will they ruin Trade?

'Tis you, my Lord, who know your Judgment's Height,

Your Precepts, and Instructions, are of Weight;

Clear, and succinct, the lower Class to teach,

And oft, above the towring Artists Reach;

Where the gay Ornament you please to place,

And where it gives a Majesty and Grace.

These are the Rules, will live in future Days,

The Youth's Director, and the Poet's Lays,

'Tis these will shine when in Oblivion lay'd:

The Goths forgotten, and the Moderns dead.

The skillful Archer, may his Aim mistake;

And the best Hand in Musick, Jarring make:

So that, the Frailty of our Nature will,

Excuse as Accident, nor construe ill.

But if the Impertinent, their Faults are told,

And still persist; and still, their Follies hold:

Let them abandon'd, senseless, stupid be,

And, past reclaiming, still be DULL for me.

In some great Structures, Lowness is exprest;

And Sleep even sometimes, Homer lull'd to Rest;

Building, like Painting, proper Point of Sight,

Requires to view it, in its clearest Light;

And some tho' aim'd at Grandeur; or at Ease,

Even please but once, and some will EVER please.

But yet, my Lord, this one important Truth,

This Law of Science, which we teach our Youth,

Even THIS, no Mediocrity admit,

Rules, Nature, Reason, all must jointly fit:

A Painter may Raphael's Judgment want,

And yet, we some Abilities will grant:

He may, perhaps, a skillful Painter be,

Tho' not so great, yet great in some Degree.

In Building, there's no Laws of human Kind,

Admit a Medium; to the Artist's Mind,

All must be perfect, or 'tis understood,

Excessive Ill,—or else sublimely Good.