After the play, we naturally stroll to this coffee-house, in hopes of meeting some new poem, or other entertainment, among the men of wit and pleasure, where there is a dearth at present. But it is wonderful there should be so few writers, when the art is become merely mechanic, and men may make themselves great that way, by as certain and infallible rules, as you may be a joiner or a mason. There happens a good instance of this, in what the hawker just now has offered to sale; to wit, "Instructions to Vanderbank; a Sequel to the Advice to the Poets: A Poem, occasioned by the Glorious Success of her Majesty's Arms, under the Command of the Duke of Marlborough, the last Year in Flanders."[89] Here you are to understand, that the author finding the poets would not take his advice, he troubles himself no more about them; but has met with one Vanderbank,[90] who works in arras, and makes very good tapestry hangings. Therefore, in order to celebrate the hero of the age, he claps me together all that can be said of a man that makes hangings, as:
Then, artist, who dost Nature's face express
In silk and gold, and scenes of action dress;
Dost figured arras animated leave,
Spin a bright story, or a passion weave
By mingling threads; canst mingle shade and light,
Delineate triumphs, or describe a fight.
Well, what shall this workman do? Why, to show how great an hero the poet intends, he provides him a very good horse:
Champing his foam, and bounding on the plain,
Arch his high neck, and graceful spread his mane.