his fuperiors. 
Walpoliana, No. 1V.—Grace in Compojfition. 
generates into tinfel or pertnefS. Pert= 
nefs is the miftaken affectation of grace, 
as pedantry produces erroneous dignity : 
the familiarity of the one, and the clum- 
finefs of the other, diftort, or prevent, 
grace. Nature; that furnifhes famples of. 
all qualities, and in the {cale of grada- 
tion exhibits all poffible fhades, affords us 
types that are more appofite than words. 
The eagle is fublime, the lion majettic, 
the {wan eracetul, the monkey pert, the 
bear ridiculoufly awkward. I mention 
thefe as more expreffive and comprehenfive 
than I coud make definitions of my mean= 
ing ; but I will apply the fwan only, un- 
der whole wings I will fhelter an apology 
for Racine, whofe pieces give me an idea 
of that bird. The colouring of the {wan is 
pure, his attitudes are graceful, he never 
difpleafes you when failing on his proper 
element. His feet may be ugly, his notes 
hifling not mufical, his walk not natural; 
he can foar, but it is with difficulty. Stall 
the impreffion the fwan leaves is that of 
grace—fo does Racine. ; 
Boileau may be compared to the dog, 
whofe fagacity is remarkable, as well as 
its fawning on itsmafter, and its fnarling 
at thofe it diflikes. If Boileau was too 
auftere to admit the pliability of grace, 
he compenfates by fenfe and propriety. 
He is like (for I will drop animals) an 
upright magiftrate whom you refpett; 
but whofe juitice and feverity’ leave an 
awe, that difcourages familiarity. His 
copies of the ancients may be too tervile— 
but if a good tranflator deferve praife, Boi- 
leau deierves more: he certainly does not 
fall below his originals ; and, confidering at 
what period he wrote, has greater merit 
ftill. By his imitations he held out to 
his countrymen models of tafte, and ba- 
nifhed totally the bad tafte of his prede- 
ceffors. For his Lutrin, replete with ex- 
cellent poetry, wit, humour, and {atire, 
he certainly was not obliged to the an- 
cients. Excepting Horace, ;how little 
idea had either Greeks or Romans of wit 
andhumour! Ariftophanes and Lucian, 
compafed with moderns, were, the one a 
blackeuard, the other a buffoon. In my 
eyes, the Lutrm, the Difpenfary, and the 
Rape of the Lock, are ftandards of grace 
and elegance, not to be paralleled by an- 
tiquity'; and eternal reproaches to Vol- 
taire, whofe indelicacy in the Pucelle de- 
graded- him as much, when compared 
withithe three authors I have named, as 
his Henriade leaves Virgil, and even Lu- 
can, whom he more refembles, by far 
h The Dunciad is blemifhed 
by the offenfwe images of the games, but 
» Montuiy Mac, No. Xxx, 
Lea 
439. 
the poetry appears to me admirable; and 
tho” the.fourth book’ has obfcurities, I 
prefer it to the three others. It has de- 
{criptions not furpafled by any poet that 
ever exifted ; and which furely a writer 
merely ingenious will never equal. . The’ 
lines on Italy, on Venice, on Convents, 
have all the grace for which I contendyas 
diftinct from poetry, tho’ united with the 
moft beautifull; and the Rape of the 
Lock, befides the otiginality of great part 
ef the invention, is.a ftandard.of grace-~ 
ful writing. o, at 
In general I believe that what I call 
grace, is denominated elegance ; but. by 
grace I mean fomething higher. I will 
Explain mylelf by inftances ; Apollo is 
gracefull,, Mercury elegant. 
Petrarch perhaps owed, his whole merit 
to the harmony of his numbers, and the 
graces of his ftyle. They conceal his 
poverty of meaning, and want of variety; 
His complaints too may have added an 
intereft, which--had his paffion been fuc- 
cefsfull, and had expreffed itfelf. with 
- equal famene{s, would have made the num- 
ber of his fonnets infupportable.. Melan= 
choly in poetry I am inclined to think con- 
tributes to grace, when it is not difgraced 
by pitiful lamentations, fuch as Ovid’s 
and Cicero’s in their banifhments. We 
refpect melancholy, becaufe it imparts 4 
fimilar affeétion, pity.- A gay writer, 
who fhould only exprefs fatisfaction with- 
out variety, would foon be naufeous. . 
Madame de Sevigné fhines. both in gricf 
and gaiety. There is too much of -for- 
row for her daughter’s abfence; yet it is 
always exprefled by’ new turns, new 
umages ; and often by wit, whofe tender- 
nefs has a melancholy air. When the for- 
gets her concern, and returns to her na- 
tural difpoiition, gaiety, every paragraph 
has novelty ; her allufions, her applica- 
tions, are the happieft poffible. She has 
the art of making you acquainted with 
all her acquamtance; and attaches you 
even to the {pots fhe inhabited. Her lan- 
guage is correct, tho” unftudied ; and when 
her mind is full of any great event, fhe in- 
terefts you with the warmth of a dramatic 
writer, not with the chilling impartiality 
of an hiftorian.’ Pray read her accounts 
of the death of Turenne and'of the ar- 
rival of K. James in France, and tell me 
whether you do not know their perfons, 
as if you had lived at.the time.’ For my 
part, if you will allow me a. word of di- 
ereflion (not that I have wiitten with any — 
method), I hate the cold impartiality re- 
commended to hiftorians; fi vis me flere, 
dolendum eft primum Bf tike—but that I 
ie 9g . RENEE 32), 
