_Of three Kind of Thoughts which seem to be false, yet are admitted and valued by Pastoral Writers_. Tho' I proposed not to consider those Thoughts which are false, either in their own Nature, or with Respect to Pastoral; yet there are some such, that yet are thought good, by the generality of Writers, which I shall therefore Just mention; since Pastoral-Writers are especially fond of 'em, and seem to look upon 'em as Beautys. Of these false Thoughts there are, I think, three sorts. The EMBLEMATICAL, the ALLEGORICAL, and the REFINED. Of the first Sort, or the EMBLEMATICAL, _SPENCER_ was so fond, that he makes it run all thro' his first and last Pastoral; which two come the nearest of any he has to true Pastorals; and contain Thoughts more pleasant than those in his other (especially his Allegorical) Pieces. But these pleasant Thoughts are mostly Emblematical, as this, which I think, is in SPENCER. _My Leaf is dry'd, my Summer Season's done, And Winter, blasting Blossoms, hieth on_. Meaning that his happy time of Life was past, and Old Age drew on. I need not prove these Thoughts to be improper for Pastoral. The Second Sort, or the ALLEGORICAL, is also what _SPENCER_ delighted equally in. His every Pastoral almost has under the plain Meaning a hidden one. Let all judge of Allegorical Pastorals as they please, but in my Opinion, they are not consistent with the Simplicity of that Poem. The Third Sort I mention'd was the _REFINED_. And of this our Modern Swains are as fond, as _SPENCER_ was of the two first. But all the Difficulty is to show that their Thoughts are refin'd; for all allow a Refin'd Thought to be faulty. But those I am going to mention are not at present look't upon as such. As that Apostrophe, where the Shepherd calls upon the Works of Nature to assist him in his Grief. This Thought being us'd by all Pastoral-Writers show's how Beautiful they thought it: And the generality of them, 'tis plain, took delight in the Affectation of it, because they have put it as affected as they could. If 'tis possible for any, the finest Turn, that can be given it, to prevent the Affectation, I think the Ingenious Mr. _ROW_ has done it, in his excellent Tragedy, call'd _JANE SHORE_. _Give me your Drops, Ye soft-descending Rains, Give me your Streams, Ye never-ceasing Springs, &c_. But the very best Turn, methinks, that can possibly be given to this Thought, Mr. _PHILIPS_, in his Pastorals, has hit upon. _Teach me to grieve, with bleating Moan, my Sheep, Teach me, thou ever-flowing Stream, to weep; Teach me, ye faint, ye hollow Winds, to sigh, And let my Sorrows teach me how to dye_. The Thought likewise of the Heavens and the Works of Nature wailing along with the Swain, is what Pastoral-Writers all aim at. I need not quote different Authors, for the different Turns that are given to this Thought; I remember Mr. _CONGREVE_ has it in four several Places. The best express'd, I think, is this.