that its essence, like that of pure gold, cannot be destroyed. Take
his verses and divest them of their rhymes, disjoint them in their
numbers, transpose their expressions, make what arrangement and
disposition you please of his words, yet shall there eternally be
poetry, and something which will be found incapable of being resolved
into absolute prose; an incontestible characteristic of a truly
poetical genius.

I will say but one word more in general of his writings, which is,
that what he has done in any one species, or distinct kind, would have
been sufficient to have acquired him a great name. If he had written
nothing but his prefaces, or nothing but his songs or his prologues,
each of them would have entitled him to the preference and distinction
of excelling in his kind.

But I have forgot myself; for nothing can be more unnecessary than an
attempt to say any thing to your Grace in commendation of the writings
of this great poet; since it is only to your knowledge, taste, and
approbation of them, that the monument, which you are now about to
raise to him, is owing. I will, therefore, my Lord, detain you no
longer by this epistle; and only entreat you to believe, that it is
addressed to your Grace from no other motive than a sincere regard to
the memory of Mr Dryden, and a very sensible pleasure which I take
in applauding an action, by which you are so justly and so singularly
entitled to a dedication of his labours, though many years after his
death, and even though most of them were produced by him many years
before you were born. I am, with the greatest respect,

MY LORD,