This probably was a Rebuke to the Author of the _Plain-Dealer_ and _Country-Wife_, who has transgressed in this kind as much as any Body, and was the best able to do it. The Author of the _Relapse_ is not entirely free from this Censure, nor the Authors of _Love for Love_, and the _Funeral_. But it will not be more surprising than it is true, that _Peter Motteux_ declared he had taken a great deal of pains with a Character in a Farce of his, to bring it within the Duke of _Buckingham_'s Rule in those Places where he told me he had given it too much Wit. Mr. _Walsh_, one of the greatest Criticks of our Nation, observes, that the Softness, Tenderness, and Violence of Passion, are wanting in Mr. _Cowley_'s Love Verses, insomuch that he _could hardly fancy he was in Love when he wrote them_. _Pref._ to _Lett._ Yet there were Variety and Learning enough in them, and more Wit than in all our witty Poets since the Restoration, excepting those above-mentioned. Mr. _Wycherly_, who wrote as good Comedies as any in the _English_, or any other Tongue, did not value himself so much upon them as on a Folio of as bad Verses as any. _Creech_ having had Success in _Lucretius_, was put upon translating _Horace_, and it is said by _Dryden_, that he might lose so much of his Reputation, as to prevent Rivalship. Nay, _Butler_, tho' he knew the Follies of Mankind so perfectly well, did not perceive that there is no greater Folly than to undertake what one is not fit for, and was persuaded to let _Hudibras_ translate _Ovid_. On this Rock many Authors have split, who would have succeeded had they consulted their Talents, and taken the right Course: but it is a general Maxim with us in _England_, Verses are Verses. He that can write one Thing, can write another, and till our Taste is so refined, that we can distinguish the Good and the Bad in the various Kinds of Thinking, Writers will not be at the Pains to consult their Talents, but content themselves with pleasing their own Fancy, or that of the Publick, by which Means, like Flies, they make a buzzing for a Day or two, and are forgotten for ever. The _Spectator_ very judiciously animadverts on this Weakness: _Our general Taste in_ England _is for Epigram, Turns of Wit, and forced Conceits, which have no manner of Influence, either for the bettering or enlarging the Mind of him who reads them, and have been carefully avoided by the greatest Writers, both among the Antients and Moderns._ He adds after Mr. _Dryden_, _The Taste of most of our_ English _Poets is extreamly_ Gothick, _which I have endeavoured to banish in several of my Speculations_.