s Adam have as much
dignity as the Apollo Belvedere, his Eve has all the delicacy and
graces of the Venus of Medicis; as his description of Eden has the
colouring of Albano. Milton's tenderness imprints ideas as graceful as
Guido's Madonnas: and the "Allegro," "Penseroso," and "Comus" might be
denominated from the three Graces; as the Italians gave similar titles
to two or three of Petrarch's best sonnets.

Cowley, I think, would have had grace (for his mind was graceful) if he
had had any ear, or if his task had not been vitiated by the pursuit of
wit; which, when it does not offer itself naturally, degenerates into
tinsel or pertness. Pertness is the mistaken affection of grace, as
pedantry produces erroneous dignity; the familiarity of the one, and the
clumsiness of the other, distort or prevent grace. Nature, that
furnishes samples of all qualities, and on the scale of gradation
exhibits all possible shades, affords us types that are more apposite
than words. The eagle is sublime, the lion majestic, the swan graceful,
the monkey pert, the bear ridiculously awkward. I mention these as more
expressive and comprehensive than I could make definitions of my
meaning; but I will apply the swan only, under whose wings I will
shelter an apology for Racine, whose pieces give me an idea of that
bird. The colouring of the swan is pure; his attitudes are graceful; he
never displeases you when sailing on his proper element. His feet may be
ugly, his notes hissing, not musical, his walk not natural; he can soar,
but it is with difficulty;--still, the impression the swan leaves is
that of grace. So does Racine.

Boileau may be compared to the dog, whose sagacity is remarkable, as
well as its fawning on its master, and its snarling at those it
dislikes. If Boileau was too austere to admit the pliability of grace,
he compensates by good sense and propriety. He is like (for I will drop
animals) an upright magistrate, whom you respect, but whose justice and
severity leave an awe that discourages familiarity. His copies of the
ancients may be too servile: but, if a good translator deserves praise,
Boileau deserves more. He certainly does not fall below his originals;
and, considering at what period he wrote, has greater merit still. By
his imitations he held out to his countrymen models of taste, and
banished totally the bad taste of his predecessors. For his "Lutrin,"[1]
replete with excellent poetry, wit, humour, and satire, he certa