their Beaux Airs; and how wou’d Vanbroug be able to pass a Comedy on them, if they shou’d once be so nice in their Taste as to disgust Obscenity; this indeed wou’d be a Vexation, and such a Delicacy which Mr. Congreve cou’d not be pleased with:  And if the Town shou’d be so refin’d to admit of nothing but what is Natural, we can’t expect that ever he will gratifie us with another Tragedy. Durfey and Motteux wou’d write no more Farces; Guildon and Tom. Brown, &c. wou’d be the Saints with wry Mouthes and scrue’d Faces:  Mr. Guildon indeed has Philosophy enough to support himself under such a Calamity, and knows a Method to prevent starving; for who can think that he who writ Blunt’s Life can be at a loss for a decent dispatch of his own?  ’Tis a deplorable Case, indeed, and I pity a Man who cannot get Bread by Writing, and yet must beg or starve without it.

The Prince of Conti believ’d the French Stage wou’d not have been so bad if the Priests had begun sooner to declaim against it:  It is possible that some of our Defects may be owing to such a Negligence.  However ’tis never too late to mend; and since Mr. Collier has took up the Cudgels, I wish the rest of the same Coat wou’d so far as is just and reasonable, stand his Second:  He has his Faults, but they are such as I wou’d not have lost his Book for.  I know there are some violent Wits, who will not allow him either Wit or Style, but, in plain terms, to be a Fool.  I hope none of them will go about to prove it.  I confess he has kept ill Company of late; but surely they don’t ground a Conjecture upon that, especially when a Man only converses to convince.  The naming Mr. Durfey, or examining his Works, is not so contagious as to stain a Man’s Reputation.  We are indeed to answer for evil Communication; and tho’ I cannot justifie a Man who wou’d read Mr. Durfey with too much Delight, because we must not set our Affection on things below, yet I wou’d pardon any who wou’d read him only to forewarn others of the Danger.

’Tis a Misfortune to have good Poets stand in need of Assistance; but ’tis very much aggravated when they are deny’d it.  A Man who is oblig’d to write for his Bread, is forc’d to be very hasty to prevent starving; And every Man’s Genius is not so sharp as his Appetite.  This may be one Reason we have so many things appear Abortive.  Some Poets have not so much as to save their longing; and if their Muse miscarry, or come with an ugly Mark into the World, are rather to be pity’d than condemn’d.  In what Pangs have I seen some poor Creatures to be deliver’d, when at the same time they have fear’d the Poverty of their Brats, and that the World wou’d discover they were very sick in the breeding.  A good Poet ought never to want a worthy Patron; and our Nobility and Gentry ought to be Industrious in the Advancement of Letters.  They might do it with great ease and little Expence; for the Number is not so great who deserve their Countenance.  In vain we complain of the Irregularity of the Stage, if they who cou’d support its Honour, want support themselves:  So that one great Step to advance the Theatre, is to take care, that they who write for the Stage, do not want for Encouragement.