There is no Circumstance in any Author, nor any one will be ever
invented, more proper for Pastoral than this Line: As it contains not
only a most beautiful Image, but show's us at once the Simplicity,
and Happiness of the Country, where even such Accidents are accounted
Misfortunes.

But this is a Circumstance that would but just bear the touching upon;
and _Ovid_ by his two next Lines, has, I think, spoil'd it. In Mr.
_SEWEL_'s Translation they run thus.

_Oft on her_ Mates, _oft on her Mother call's,
And from her Lap her fragrant Treasure fall's;
And she (such Innocence in Youth remains)
Of that small Loss, among the rest, complains_.

If he had stopt with the second Line he had put himself, as 'twere, in
the place of a Shepherd, and spoke of the Misfortune as if it came from
his Heart, and he was interested for the Beauteous Innocent. But in the
two last Lines he takes upon him the Author, is grave and reflecting;
but nothing is so Beautiful in these kind of Descriptions, as for a
Writer to put himself as 'twere in the Place of the Person he speaks
of; and unless a Writer delights to do this, and takes Pleasure in his
Characters, and has, as 'twere, a Love and Kindness for 'em, he'll
never excell in Pastoral. And I have been told, Cubbin, by some of your
Acquaintance, that they can easily tell what sort of Characters you were
fondest of when your wrote your Pastorals; for there is one you never
mention but with an unusual Pleasure and Alacrity; and it appear's from
your Description of her that your Heart was on the flutter when you drew
it. And if you read it over now, so long after, you'll observe it. But