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I believe it is no wrong Observation, that Persons of Genius, and those who are most capable of Art, are always fond of Nature, as such are chiefly sensible, that all Art consists in the Imitation and Study of Nature. On the contrary, People of the common Level of Understanding are principally delighted with the Little Niceties and Fantastical Operations of Art, and constantly think that finest which is least Natural.

'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.

Nay, fly to altars; there they'll talk you dead; For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.

Honor and shame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies.

Those oft are stratagems which errors seem Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream;

Let such teach others who themselves excel And censure freely who have written well.

Fire in each eye and papers in each hand, they rave, recite, and madden round the land.

O happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er thy name: That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die.

By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed, By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned, By strangers honored, and by strangers mourned!

T'is education forms the common mind: Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.