So much in vindication of the general _method_ of Sir W. D’avenant’s poem. With respect to its _execution_, the justice of Dr. Hurd’s censure cannot be controverted. That his sentiments are frequently far-fetched and affected, and his expression quaint and obscure, is but too obviously apparent; and these faults, together with the want of harmony in versification, will sufficiently account for the neglect into which the work is fallen, though interesting in its story, and thick sown with beauties. Readers who take up a book merely for the indolent amusement of a leisure hour, cannot endure the labour of unharbouring a fine thought from the cover of perplexed expression. The _pleasure_ arising from a flowing line, or a rounded period, is more engaging to them, because more easily enjoyed, than that from a sublime or witty conception. The author’s faulty _execution_, however, arose from a source directly contrary to the “dread of imitation.” Imitation itself led him to it; for almost all the models of polite literature existing in his own country, and indeed in the other polished nations of Europe, were characterized by the very same vitiation of taste. Among our own writers, it is sufficient to instance Donne, Suckling and Cowley, for this constant affectation of wit and uncommon sentiment, and for a consequent obscurity of expression. Yet all these, and Sir W. D’avenant, perhaps, in a more eminent degree than the rest, had for great occasions, above the temptation of trifling, a majestic and nervous simplicity, both of sentiment and expression; which, with our more refined taste and language, we have never been able to equal. I should now hope that the reader would set out with me upon a nearer inspection of this poem, with the general _idea_ of its being the work of an elevated genius, pregnant with a rich store of free and noble sentiment, fashioned by an intimate commerce with the great world, and boldly pursuing an original, but not an unskilful plan.