perfection; that Gray and Mason (who always hunt in couples in George's
brain) have shown a great deal of poetical fire in their lyric poetry;
that Aristotle's rules are not to be servilely followed, which George
has shown to have imposed great shackles upon modern genius. His poems,
I find, are to consist of two vols.--reasonable octavo; and a third book
will exclusively contain criticisms, in which he asserts he has gone
_pretty deeply_ into the laws of blank verse and rhyme--epic poetry,
dramatic and pastoral ditto--all which is to come out before Christmas.
But above all he has _touched_ most _deeply_ upon the Drama, comparing
the English with the modern German stage, their merits and defects.
Apprehending that his _studies_ (not to mention his _turn_, which I take
to be chiefly towards the lyrical poetry) hardly qualified him for these
disquisitions, I modestly inquired what plays he had read? I found by
George's reply that he _had_ read Shakspeare, but that was a good while
since: he calls him a great but irregular genius, which I think to be an
original and just remark. (Beaumont and Fletcher, Massinger, Ben Jonson,
Shirley, Marlowe, Ford, and the worthies of Dodsley's Collection--he
confessed he had read none of them, but professed his intention of
looking through them all, so as to be able to touch upon them in his
book.)

So Shakspeare, Otway, and I believe Rowe, to whom he was naturally
directed by Johnson's Lives, and these not read lately, are to stand him
in stead of a general knowledge of the subject. God bless his dear
absurd head!

By the by, did I not write you a letter with something about an
invitation in it?--but let that pass; I suppose it is not agreeable.

N.B. It would not be amiss if you were to accompany your present with a