The Mighty Prince of Poets, learned BEN,
Who alone div'd into the Minds of Men:
Saw all their wandrings, all their follies knew,
And all their vain fantastick passions drew.
In Images so lively and so true;
That there each Humorist himself might view.
Yet onely lash'd the Errors of the Times,
And n'er exposd the Persons, but the Crimes:
And never car'd for private frowns, when he
Did but chastise publick iniquitie.
He feard no Pimp, no Pick-pocket, or Drab;
He fear'd no Bravo, nor no Ruffian's Stab.
'Twas he alone true Humors understood,
And with great Wit and Judgment made them good.
A Humor is the Byas of the Mind,
By which with violence 'tis one way inclind:
It makes our Actions lean on one side still,
And in all Changes that way bends the will.
This -
He onely knew and represented right.
Thus none but Mighty Johnson e'r could write.
Expect not then, since that most flourishing Age,
Of BEN. to see true Humor on the Stage.
All that have since been writ, if they be scan'd,
Are but faint Copies from that Master's hand.
Our Poet now, amongst those petty things,
Alas, his too weak trifling humors brings.
As much beneath the worst in Johnson's Plays,
As his great Merit is above our praise.
For could he imitate that great Author right,
He would with ease all Poets else out-write.
But to out-go all other men, would be
O Noble BEN! less than to follow thee.
Gallants you see how hard it is to write,
Forgive all faults the Poet made to night:
Since if he sinn'd, 'twas meant for your delight.
Pray let this find -
As good success, tho' it be very bad,
As any damn'd successful Play e'r had.
Yet if you hiss, he knows not where the harm is,
He'll not defend his Non-sence Vi & Armis.  
But this poor Play has been so torn before,
That all your Cruelty can't wound it more. (79-80)

[Extract from the preface. Shadwell is responding to Dryden's comments in the preface to An Evening's Love.]

[Shadwell has just protested at those who 'wrest the Writings of poets to their own corrupted sense'.]

Mr. Johnson, I believe, was very unjustly taxed for personating particular men, but it will ever be the fate of them, that write the humors of the Town, especially in a foolish, and vicious Age. Pardon me (Reader) that I name him in the same page with myself; who pretend to nothing more, than to joyn with all men of sense and learning in admiration of him; which, I think, I do not [sic] out of a true understanding of him; and for this I cannot but value my self. Yet, by extolling his way of writing, I would not insinuate to you that I can practise it; though I would if I could, a thousand times sooner than any mans.

And here I must make a little digression, and take liberty to dissent from my particular friend, for whom I have a very great respect, and whose Writings I extreamly admire; and though I will not say his is the best way of writing, yet, I am sure, his manner of writing it is much the best that ever was. And I may say of him, as was said of a Celebrated Poet, Cui unquam Poetarum magis proprium fuit subito æstro incalescere? Quis, ubi incaluit, fortius, & fœlicius debacchatur.   His Verse is smoother and deeper, his thoughts more quick and surprising, his raptures more mettled and higher; and he has more of that in his writing, which Plato calls σώφρονα μανίαν   than any other Heroick Poet. And those who shall go about to imitate him, will be found to flutter, and make a noise, but never rise. Yet (after all this) I cannot think it impudence in him, or any man to endeavour to imitate Mr. Johnson, whom he confesses to have fewer failings than all the English Poets, which implies he was the most perfect, and best Poet; and why should not we endeavour to imitate him? because we cannot arrive to his excellence? 'Tis true we cannot, but this is no more an argument, than for a Soldier (who considers with himself he cannot be so great a one as Julius Cæsar) to run from his Colours, and be none; or to speak of a less thing, why should any man study Mathematicks after Archimedes, &c. This Principle would be an obstruction to the progress of all learning and knowledge in the world. Men of all Professions ought certainly to follow the best in theirs, and let not their endeavours be blamed, if they go as far as they can in the right way, though they be unsuccessful, and attain not their ends. If Mr. Johnson be the most faultless Poet, I am so far from thinking it impudence to endeavour to imitate him, that it would rather (in my opinion) seem impudence in me not to do it.

I cannot be of their opinion who think he wanted wit, I am sure, if he did, he was so far from being the most faultless, that he was the most faulty Poet of his time, but, it may be answered, that his Writings were correct, though he wanted fire; but I think flat and dull things are as incorrect, and shew as little Judgment in the Author, nay less than sprightly and mettled Nonsense does. But I think he had more true wit than any of his Contemporaries; that other men had sometimes things that seemed more fiery than his, was because they were placed with so many sordid and mean things about them, that they made a greater show.

Inter quæ verbum emicuit, si forte, decorum,
Si versus pauco concinnor, unus, & alter,
Injuste totum ducit, venditque Poema.  

Nor can I think, to the writing of his humors (which were not onely the follies, but vices and subtleties of men) that wit was not required, but judgment; where, by the way, they speak as if judgment were a less thing than wit. But certainly it was meant other wise by nature, who subjected wit to the government of judgment, which is the noblest faculty of the mind. Fancy rough-draws, but judgement smooths and finishes; nay judgment does in deed comprehend wit, for no man can have that who has not wit. In fancy mad men equal, if not excel all others, and one may as well say that one of those mad men is as good a man as a temperate wiseman, as that one of the very fancyful Plays (admired most by Women) can be so good a Play as one of Johnson's correct, and well-govern'd Comedies.

The reason given by some, why Johnson needed not wit in writing humor, is, because humor is the effect of observation, and observation the effect of judgment; but observation is as much necessary in all other Plays, as in Comedies of humor: For first, even in the highest Tragedies, where the Scene lies in Courts, the Poet must have observed the Customs of Courts, and the manner of conversing there, or he will commit many indecencies, and make his Persons too rough and ill-bred for a Court.

Besides Characters in Plays being Representations of the Vertues or Vices, Passions or Affections of Mankind, since there are no more new Vertues, or Vices; Passions, or Affections, the Idea's of these can no other way be received into the imagination of a Poet, but either from the Conversation or Writings of Men. After a Poet has formed a Character (as suppose of an Ambitious Man) his design is certainly to write it naturally, and he has no other rule to guid him in this, but to compare him with other men of that kind, that either he has heard of, or conversed with in the world, or read of in Books (and even this reading of Books is conversing with men) nay more; (besides judging of his Character) the Poet can fancy nothing of it, but what must spring from the Observation he has made of Men, or Books.

If this argument (that the enemies of humor use) be meant in this sense, that a Poet, in the writing of a Fools Character, needs but have a man sit to him, and have his words and actions taken; in this case there is no need of wit. But 'tis most certain, that if we should do so, no one fool (though the best about the Town) could appear pleasantly upon the Stage, he would be there too dull a Fool, and must be helped out with a great deal of wit in the Author. I scruple not to call it so, first, because 'tis not your downright Fool that is a fit Character for a Play, but like Sir John Dawe and Sir Amorous La Foole, your witty, brisk, aiery Fopps, that are Entreprennants.   Besides, wit in the Writer, (I think, without any Authority for it) may be said to be the invention of remote and pleasant thoughts of what kind soever; and there is as much occasion for such imaginations in the writing of a Curious Coxcomb's part, as in writing the greatest Hero's; and that which may be folly in the Speaker, may be so remote and pleasant, to require a great deal of wit in the Writer. The most Excellent Johnson put wit into the mouths of the meanest of his people, and which, is infinitely difficult, made it proper for 'em. And I once heard a Person, of the greatest Wit and judgement of the Age, say, that Bartholomew Fair (which consists most of low persons) is one of the Wittiest Plays in the World. If there be no wit required in the rendering Folly ridiculous, or Vice odious, we must accuse Juvenal the best Satyrist, and wittiest Man of all the Latine Writers, for want of it.

I should not say so much of Mr. Johnson (whose Merit sufficiently justifies him to all Men of Sense) but that I think my self a little obliged to vindicate the Opinion I publickly declared, in my Epilogue to this Play; which I did upon mature consideration, and with a full satisfaction in my judgement, and not out of a bare affected vanity of being thought his Admirer.

(sigs. a2-4r)