pears to be easy and natural will come in; and so art will be hid by art, which is the perfection of easy writing. I will suppose an author to be really possessed with the passion which he writes upon, and then we shall see how he would acquit himself. This I take to be the safest way to form a judgment of him since if he be not truly moved, he must at least work up his imagination as near as possible, to resemble reality. I choose to instance in love, which is observed to have produced the most finished performances in this kind. A lover will be full of sincerity, that he may be believed by his mistress; he will therefore think simply; he will express himself perspicuously, that he may not perplex her; he will therefore write unaffectedly. Deep reflections are made by a head undisturbed; and points of wit and fancy are the work of an heart at ease; these two dangers then, into which poets are apt to run, are effectually removed out of the lover's way. The selecting proper circumstances, and placing them in agreeable lights, are the finest secrets of all poetry; but the recollection of little circumstances is the lover's sole meditation, and relating them pleasantly, the business of his life. Accordingly we find that the most celebrated authors of this rank excel in love-verses. Out of ten thousand instances I shall name one, which I think the most delicate and tender I ever saw. To myself I sigh often, without knowing why; A man who hath ever been in love will be touched at the reading of these lines; and every one, who now feels that passion, actually feels that they are true. From what I have advanced it appears, how difficult it is to write easily. But when easy writings fall into the hand of an ordinary reader, they appear to him so natural and unlaboured, that he immediately resolves to write, and fancies that all he hath to do is to take no pains. Thus he thinks indeed simply, but the thoughts, not being chosen with judgment, are not beautiful: he, it is true, expresses himself plainly, but flatly withal. Again, if a man of vivacity takes it in his head to write this way, what self-denial must he undergo, when bright points of wit occur to his fancy! How difficult will he find it to reject florid phrases, and pretty embellishments of style! So true it is, that simplicity of all things is the hardest to be copied, and ease to be acquired with the greatest labour. Our family knows very well how ill Lady Flame looked, when she imitated Mrs. Jane in a plain black suit. And, I remember, when Frank Courtly was saying the other day, that any man might write easy, I only asked him, if he thought it possible that squire Hawthorn should ever come into a room as he did? He made me a very handsome bow, and answered with a smile, Mr. Ironside, you have convinced me.' I shall conclude this paper by observing that pastoral poetry, which is the most considerable kind of easy writing, has the oftenest been attempted with ill success, of any sort whatsoever. I shall therefore, in a little time, communicate my thoughts upon that subject to the public. N° 16. MONDAY, MARCH 30, 1713. Ne fortè pudori Sit tibi musa lyra solers, et cantor Apollo. HOR. Ars Poet. v. 406. Blush not to patronise the muse's skill. Two mornings ago a gentleman came in to my lady Lizard's tea-table, who is distinguished in town by the good taste he is known to have in polite writings, especially such as relate to love and gallantry. The figure of the man had something odd and grotesque in it, though his air and manner were genteel and easy, and his wit agreeable. The ladies, in complaisance to him, turned the discourse to poetry. This soon gave him an occasion of producing two new songs to the company; which, he said, he would venture to recommend as compleat performances. The first, continued he, is by a gentleman of an unrivalled reputation in every kind of writing *; and the second by a lady who does me the honour to be in love with me, because I am not handsome. Mrs. Annabella upon this (who never lets slip an occasion of doing sprightly things) gives a twitch to the paper with a finger and a thumb, and snatches it out of the gentleman's hands: then casting her eye over it with a seeming impatience, she read us the songs; and in a very obliging manner, desired the gentleman would let her have a copy of them, together with his judgment upon songs in general; that I may be able, said she, to judge of gallantries of this nature, if ever it should be my fortune to have a poetical lover. The gentleman complied; and accordingly Mrs. Annabella, the very next morning, when she was at her toilet, had the following packet delivered to her by a spruce valet de chambre. THE FIRST SONG. I. ON Belvidera's bosom lying, II. But she, alas! unkindly wise, You quickly would forget to love." THE SECOND SONG. I. BOAST not, mistaken swain, thy art The charms that have subdued my heart, II. Thy face is to my humour made, Perhaps, by some fond whim betray'd, III. Vain youth to your confusion know, You all your fancy'd beauties owe, IV. For your own sake, if not for mine, You should preserve my fire: Since you, my swain, no more will shine, V. By me, indeed, you are allow'd TO MRS. ANNABELLA LIZARD. MADAM, To let you see how absolute your commands are over me, and to convince you of the opinion I have of your good sense, I shall, without any preamble of compliments, give you my thoughts upon Song-writing, in the same order as they have occurred to me. Only allow me, in my own defence, to say, that I do not remember ever to have met with any piece of criticism upon this. subject; so that if I err, or seem singular in my opinions, you will be the more at liberty to differ from them, since I do not pretend to support them by any authority. In all ages, and in every nation where poetry has been in fashion, the tribe of sonneteers hath been very numerous. Every pert young fellow that has a moving fancy, and the least jingle of |