{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_52998/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_52998","id":"gutenberg_52998","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52998","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Church of England -- Sermons","Dialogues, English","Great Britain -- Civilization -- 17th century","Poetry -- History and criticism","Romances -- History and criticism"],"text":"[Transcriber\u2019s Note:\n\nCharacters preceded by a caret(^) are in superscript, and are enclosed\nin curly brackets, i. e. {th}.\n\nItalicised text delimited by underscores.\n\nThere are many special characters in this text that require a utf-8\ncompliant font. If you find characters that appear as a question mark\nin a black box or a small rectangle with numbers in it, you should\ncheck your reader\u2019s default font. If you have a font installed with\nSIL after the font name, you should use that one.]\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n\n  WORKS\n\n  OF\n\n  RICHARD HURD, D.D.\n\n  LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n  Printed by J. Nichols and Son,\n  Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.\n\n[Illustration: The Right Reverend RICHARD HURD, D. D. Lord Bishop of\nWorcester.\n\n  T. Gainsborough pinx.         J. Hall sculp.\n\nFrom the Original Picture in the Possession of her Majesty.\n\n_Published March 1^{st}. 1811. by T. Cadell & W. Davies, Strand,\nLondon._]\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n\n  WORKS\n\n  OF\n\n  RICHARD HURD, D. D.\n\n  LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.\n\n  IN EIGHT VOLUMES.\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  LONDON:\n\n  PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.\n  1811.\n\n\n\n\n  DATES\n\n  OF SOME OCCURRENCES\n\n  IN THE\n\n  LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.\n\n\n    _The following Particulars, in the Author\u2019s own hand-writing,\n    and endorsed by him\u2014\u201cSome Occurrences in my Life. R. W.\u201d\u2014were\n    found amongst his papers after his decease._\n\n\n\n\nDATES\n\n_Of some Occurrences in my own Life_.\n\n\n[Sidenote: A. D.]\n\n[Sidenote: 1719-20]\n\nRichard Hurd was born at Congreve, in the Parish of Penkrich, in the\nCounty of Stafford, January 13, 1719-20.\n\nHe was the second of three children, all sons, of John and Hannah Hurd;\nplain, honest, and good people; of whom he can truly say with the poet\u2014\n\n    _Si natura juberet, &c._\n\nThey rented a considerable farm at Congreve, when he was born; but soon\nafter removed to a larger at Penford, about half way between Brewood\nand Wolverhampton in the same County.\n\nThere being a good Grammar School at Brewood, he was educated there\nunder the Reverend Mr. Hillman, and, upon his death, under his\nsuccessor, the Reverend Mr. Budworth\u2014both well qualified for their\noffice, and both very kind to him.\n\nMr. Budworth had been Master of the School at Rudgely; where he\ncontinued two years after his election to Brewood, while the\nSchool-house, which had been much neglected, was repairing. He was\ntherefore sent to Rudgely immediately on Mr. Budworth\u2019s appointment to\nBrewood, returned with him to this place, and continued under his care,\ntill he went to the University.\n\nHe must add one word more of his _second_ Master. He knew him well,\nwhen he afterwards was of an age to judge of his merits. He had been a\nscholar of the famous Mr. Blackwell of Derby, and afterwards bred at\nChrist\u2019s College in Cambridge, where he resided till he had taken his\nM. A.\u2019s degree. He understood Greek and Latin well, and had a true taste\nof the best writers in those languages. He was, besides, a polite,\nwell-bred man, and singularly attentive to the _manners_, in every\nsense of the word, of his scholars. He had a warm sense of virtue and\nreligion, and enforced both with a natural and taking eloquence. How\nhappy, to have had such a man, first, for his school-master, and then\nfor his friend.\n\n[Sidenote: 1733]\n\nUnder so good direction, he was thought fit for the University, and was\naccordingly admitted in Emanuel College, in Cambridge, October 3, 1733,\nbut did not go to reside there till a year or two afterwards.\n\nIn this college, he was happy in receiving the countenance, and in\nbeing permitted to attend the Lectures, of that excellent Tutor, Mr.\nHenry Hubbard, although he had been admitted under another person.\n\n[Sidenote: 1738-9]\n\nHe took his B. A.\u2019s degree in 1738-9.\n\n[Sidenote: 1742]\n\nHe took his M. A.\u2019s degree, and was elected fellow in 1742.\n\nWas ordained Deacon, 13th of June that year in St. Paul\u2019s Cathedral,\nLondon, by Dr. Jos. Butler, Bishop of Bristol and Dean of St. Paul\u2019s,\non Letters Dimissory from Dr. Gooch, Bishop of Norwich.\n\n[Sidenote: 1744]\n\nWas ordained Priest, 20 May 1744 in the Chapel of Gonville and Caius\nCollege, Cambridge, by the Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Gooch.\n\n[Sidenote: 1749]\n\nHe took his B. D.\u2019s degree in 1749.\n\n[Sidenote: 1750]\n\nHe published the same year Remarks on Mr. Weston\u2019s book on the\n_Rejection of Heathen Miracles_, and his Commentary on Horace\u2019s _Ars\nPoetica_; which last book introduced him to the acquaintance of Mr.\nWarburton, by whose recommendation to the Bishop of London, Dr.\nSherlock, he was appointed Whitehall Preacher in May 1750.\n\n[Sidenote: 1751]\n\nHe published the Commentary on the Epistle to Augustus in 1751.\n\n[Sidenote: 1753]\n\n\u2014the new edition of both Comments, with Dedication to Mr. Warburton, in\n1753.\n\n[Sidenote: 1755]\n\n\u2014the Dissertation on the Delicacy of Friendship in 1755.\n\nHis Father died Nov. 27 this year, \u00e6t. 70.\n\n[Sidenote: 1757]\n\nHe published the Remarks on Hume\u2019s Natural History of Religion in 1757.\n\nWas instituted this year, Feb. 16, to the Rectory of Thurcaston, in the\nCounty of Leicester, on the presentation of Emanuel College.\n\n[Sidenote: 1759]\n\nHe published Moral and Political Dialogues 1759.\n\n[Sidenote: 1762]\n\nHe had the Sine-cure Rectory of Folkton, near Bridlington, Yorkshire,\ngiven him by the Lord Chancellor (Earl of Northington) on the\nrecommendation of Mr. Allen, of Prior Park, near Bath, November 2, 1762.\n\nHe published the Letters on Chivalry and Romance this year.\n\n[Sidenote: 1763]\n\n\u2014Dialogues on Foreign Travel in 1763.\n\n[Sidenote: 1764]\n\nAnd Letter to Dr. Leland of Dublin in 1764.\n\n[Sidenote: 1765]\n\nHe was made Preacher of Lincoln\u2019s Inn, on the recommendation of Mr.\nCharles Yorke, &c. November 6, 1765.\n\n[Sidenote: 1767]\n\nWas collated to the Archdeaconry of Gloucester, on the death of Dr.\nGeekie, by the Bishop, August 27, 1767.\n\n[Sidenote: 1768]\n\nWas appointed to open the Lecture of Bishop Warburton on Prophecy in\n1768.\n\nHe took the degree of D. D. at Cambridge Commencement this year.\n\n[Sidenote: 1772]\n\nHe published the Sermons on Prophecy in 1772.\n\n[Sidenote: 1773]\n\nHis Mother died Feb. 27, 1773, \u00e6t. 88.\n\n[Sidenote: 1775]\n\nHe was consecrated Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, the 12th of\nFebruary 1775.\n\n[Sidenote: 1776]\n\nHe published the 1st Volume of Sermons preached at Lincoln\u2019s Inn, 1776.\n\nAnd was made Preceptor to the Prince of Wales and his brother Prince\nFrederick, the 5th of June the same year.\n\nPreached before the Lords, December 13, 1776, first Fast for the war.\n\n[Sidenote: 1779]\n\nHe lost his old and best friend, Bishop Warburton, June 7th, 1779.\n\n[Sidenote: 1780]\n\nHe published the 2d and 3d Volumes of Sermons in 1780.\n\nThese three Volumes were published at the desire of the Bench of\nLincoln\u2019s Inn.\n\n[Sidenote: 1781]\n\nHe was elected Member of the Royal Society of Gottingen, January 11,\n1781.\n\nThe Bishop of Winchester [Dr. Thomas] died Tuesday, May 1, 1781.\nReceived a gracious letter from his Majesty the next morning, by a\nspecial messenger from Windsor, with the offer of the See of Worcester,\nin the room of Bishop North, to be translated to Winchester, and of the\nClerkship of the Closet, in the room of the late Bishop of Winchester.\n\nOn his arrival at Hartlebury Castle in July that year, resolved to put\nthe Castle into complete order, and to build a Library, which was much\nwanted.\n\n[Sidenote: 1782]\n\nThe Library was finished in 1782 and furnished with a collection of\nbooks, late Bishop Warburton\u2019s, and ordered by his Will to be sold, and\nthe value given to the Infirmary at Gloucester\n\n[Sidenote: 1783]\n\nTo these, other considerable additions have been since made.\n\nArchbishop Cornwallis died in 1783.\n\nHad the offer of the Archbishoprick from his Majesty, with many\ngracious expressions, and pressed to accept it; but humbly begged leave\nto decline it, as a charge not suited to his temper and talents, and\nmuch too heavy for him to sustain, especially in these times.\n\nThe King was pleased not to take offence at this freedom, and then to\nenter with him into some confidential conversation on the subject. It\nwas offered to the Bishop of London, Dr. Lowth, and refused by him, as\nwas foreseen, on account of his ill health. It was then given to Dr.\nMoore, Bishop of Bangor.\n\n[Sidenote: 1784]\n\nAdded a considerable number of books to the new Library at Hartlebury\nin 1784.\n\n[Sidenote: 1785]\n\nConfirmed Prince Edward [their Majesties\u2019 4th son] in the Chapel of\nWindsor Castle, May 14th, 1785.\n\nAdded more books to the Library this year. And put the last hand (at\nleast he thinks so) to the Bishop of Gloucester\u2019s Life, to be prefixed\nto the new edition of his works now in the press.\n\nConfirmed Princess Augusta [their Majesties\u2019 second daughter] in the\nChapel of Windsor Castle, Dec. the 24th this year.\n\nPreached in the Chapel the next day (Christmas day) and administered\nthe Sacrament to their Majesties and the Princess Royal and Princess\nAugusta.\n\n[Sidenote: 1786]\n\nPreached before the Lords the 30th of January 1786.\n\nHis Majesty was pleased this year to bestow a prebend of Worcester\n[vacant by the death of Dr. Young] on my Chaplain, Mr. Kilvert.\n\nPreached before their Majesties and Royal Family in the Chapel of\nWindsor Castle, and administered the Sacrament to them, on Christmas\nday 1786.\n\n[Sidenote: 1788]\n\nIn the end of February this year, 1788,\nwas published in seven volumes 4to a complete edition of the works of\nBishop Warburton. The _Life_ is omitted for the present.\n\nMarch 13, 1788, a fine gold Medal was this day given me by his Majesty\nat the Queen\u2019s House.\n\nThe King\u2019s head on one side. The Reverse was taken from a Seal of\nmine[1], which his Majesty chanced to see, and approved.\n\nThe Die was cut by Mr. Burch, and the Medal designed for the annual\nPrize-Dissertation on Theological Subjects in the University of\nGottingen.\n\n[Sidenote: July 12.]\n\nThis summer the King came to Cheltenham to drink the waters, and\nwas attended by the Queen, the Princess Royal, and the Princesses\nAugusta and Elizabeth. They arrived at Cheltenham in the evening of\nSaturday July the 12th, and resided in a house of Earl Falconberg.\nFrom Cheltenham they made excursions to several places in\nGloucestershire and Worcestershire, and were every where received\nwith joy by all ranks of people.\n\n[Sidenote: Aug. 2]\n\nOn Saturday, August the second, They were pleased to visit Hartlebury,\nat the distance of thirty-three miles, or more. The Duke of York\ncame from London to Cheltenham the day before, and was pleased to\ncome with them. They arrived at Hartlebury at half an hour past\neleven. Lord Courtoun, Mr. Digby (the Queen\u2019s Vice-Chamberlain), Col.\nGwin (one of the King\u2019s Equerries), the Countesses of Harcourt and\nCourtoun, composed the suite. Their Majesties, after seeing the House,\nbreakfasted in the Library; and, when they had reposed themselves some\ntime, walked into the Garden, and took several turns on the Terrases,\nespecially the Green Terras in the Chapel Garden. Here they shewed\nthemselves to an immense croud of people, who flocked in from the\nneighbourhood, and standing on the rising grounds in the Park, saw, and\nwere seen, to great advantage. The day being extremely bright, the shew\nwas agreeable and striking. About two o\u2019clock, their Majesties, &c.\nreturned to Cheltenham.\n\n[Sidenote: Aug. 5.]\n\nOn the Tuesday following, August the fifth, their Majesties, with the\nthree Princesses, arrived at 8 o\u2019clock in the evening at the Bishop\u2019s\nPalace in Worcester, to attend the charitable meeting of the three\nQuires of Worcester, Hereford, and Gloucester, for the benefit of the\nwidows and orphans of the poorer Clergy of those Dioceses; which had\nbeen fixed, in consequence of the signification of the King\u2019s intention\nto honour that solemnity with his presence, for the 6th, 7th, and 8th\nof that month.\n\nThe next morning a little before 10 o\u2019clock, the King was pleased\nto receive the compliments of the Clergy. The Bishop, in the name\nof himself, Dean and Chapter and Clergy of the Church and Diocese,\naddressed the King in the Great Hall, in a short speech[2], to which\nhis Majesty was pleased to return a gracious answer. He had then the\nhonour to address the Queen in a few words, to which a gracious reply\nwas made; and they had all the honour to kiss the King\u2019s and Queen\u2019s\nhand.\n\nSoon after 10, the Corporation, by their Recorder, the Earl of\nCoventry, addressed and went through the same ceremony of kissing the\nKing\u2019s hand. Then the King had a Lev\u00e9e in the Great Hall, which lasted\ntill 11, when their Majesties, &c. walked through the Court of the\nPalace to the Cathedral, to attend divine Service and a Sermon. The\nApparitor General, 2 Sextons, 2 Virgers, and 8 Beadsmen, walked before\nthe King (as on great occasions they usually do before the Bishop);\nthe Lord in waiting (Earl of Oxford) on the King\u2019s right hand, and the\nBishop in his lawn on the left. After the King, came the Queen and\nPrincesses, attended by the Countesses of Pembroke and Harcourt (Ladies\nof the Bed-chamber), and the Countess of Courtown, and the rest of\ntheir Suite. At the entrance of the Cathedral, their Majesties were\nreceived by the Dean and Chapter in their Surplices and hoods, and\nconducted to the foot of the stairs leading to their seat in a Gallery\nprepared and richly furnished by the Stewards[3] for their use, at the\nbottom of the Church near the West window.\n\nThe same ceremony was observed the two following days, on which they\nheard sacred music, but without prayers or a sermon. On the last day\nAug. 8th, the King was pleased to give \u00a3.200 to the charity: and in the\nevening attended a concert in the College Hall for the benefit of the\nStewards.\n\n[Sidenote: Aug. 9]\n\nOn Saturday morning, Aug. 9th, the King and Queen, &c. returned to\nCheltenham.\n\nDuring their Majesties\u2019 stay at the Palace, they attended prayers in\nthe Chapel of the Palace every morning (except the first, when the\nservice was performed in the Church) which were read by the Bishop.\n\nThe King at parting was pleased to put into my hands for the poor of\nthe City \u00a3.50, and the Queen \u00a3.50 more; which I desired the Mayor (Mr.\nDavis) to see distributed amongst them in a proper manner.\n\nThe King also left \u00a3.300 in my hands towards releasing the Debtors in\nthe County and City Jails.\n\nDuring the three days at Worcester, the concourse of people of all\nranks was immense, and the joy universal. The weather was uncommonly\nfine. And no accident of any kind interrupted the mutual satisfaction,\nwhich was given, and received, on this occasion.\n\n[Sidenote: Aug. 16]\n\nOn Saturday, August 16, the King and Royal Family left Cheltenham, and\nreturned that evening to Windsor.\n\n[Sidenote: Nov. 1]\n\nIn the beginning of November following,\n\n[Sidenote: 1789]\n\n[Sidenote: Feb. 28]\n\nthe King was seized with that illness, which was so much lamented.\nIt continued till the end of February 1789, when his Majesty happily\nrecovered.\n\n[Sidenote: Mar. 15]\n\nSoon after I had his Majesty\u2019s command to attend him at Kew; and on\nMarch 15, I administered the Sacrament to his Majesty at Windsor in the\nChapel of the Castle, as also on Easter Sunday, April 12,\n\n[Sidenote: April 12]\n\nand preached both days.\n\nAt the Sacrament of March 15, the King was attended only by three or\nfour of his Gentlemen: On Easter-day, the Queen, Princess Royal, and\nPrincesses Augusta and Elizabeth, with several Lords and Gentlemen and\nLadies of the Court, attended the King to the Chapel, and received the\nSacrament with him.\n\n[Sidenote: April 23]\n\nOn April 23 [St. George\u2019s Day] a public thanksgiving for the King\u2019s\nrecovery was appointed. His Majesty, the Queen, and Royal Family, with\nthe two Houses of Parliament, &c. went in procession to St. Paul\u2019s. The\nBishop of London preached. I was not well enough to be there.\n\n[Sidenote: 1790]\n\n[Sidenote: May 28]\n\nMay 28, 1790, the Duke of Montagu died. He was a nobleman of singular\nworth and virtue; of an exemplary life; and of the best principles\nin Church and State. As Governor to the Prince of Wales and Prince\nFrederick, he was very attentive to his charge, and executed that trust\nwith great propriety and dignity. The Preceptor was honoured with his\nconfidence: and there never was the least misunderstanding between\nthem; or so much as a difference of opinion as to the manner in which\nthe education of the Princes should be conducted.\n\nIn October 1790, I had the honour to receive from the King the present\nof two fine full-length pictures of his Majesty and the Queen, copied\nfrom those at the Queen\u2019s House, St. James\u2019s Park, painted by the late\nMr. Gainsborough.\n\nThese pictures are put up in the great Drawing-room at the Palace in\nWorcester, and betwixt them, over the fire-place, is fixed an oval\ntablet of white marble with the following Inscription in Gold Letters.\n\n  \u201cHospes,\n  Imagines, quas contemplaris,\n  Augustorum Principum,\n  Georgii III, et Charlott\u00e6 Conjugis,\n  Rex ipse\n  Richardo Episcopo Vigorniensi\n  Donavit,\n  1790.\u201d\n\n[Sidenote: 1791]\n\n[Sidenote: Sept. 17]\n\nMy younger Brother, Mr. Thomas Hurd, of Birmingham, died on Saturday,\nSept. 17, 1791.\n\n[Sidenote: 1792]\n\n[Sidenote: Dec. 6]\n\nMy elder Brother, Mr. John Hurd, of Hatton, near Shifnal, died on\nThursday, December 6, 1792.\n\n[Sidenote: 1793]\n\n[Sidenote: March 20]\n\nMy noble and honoured friend, the Earl of Mansfield, died March 20,\n1793.\n\n[Sidenote: 1795]\n\n[Sidenote: Jan. 19]\n\nMy old and much esteemed friend, Dr. Balguy, Prebendary and Archdeacon\nof Winchester, died January 19, 1795.\n\n[Sidenote: Feb. 24]\n\nThe Life of Bishop Warburton, which was sent to the press in Autumn\nlast, was not printed off till the end of January, nor published till\ntowards the end of February this year.\n\n[Sidenote: Dec. 1]\n\nPrinted in the course of this year at the Kidderminster press a\nCollection of Bishop Warburton\u2019s Letters to me, to be published after\nmy death for the benefit of the Worcester Infirmary.\u2014The edition\nconsisted of 250 Copies, 4to\u2014was finished at the press in the\nbeginning of December.\n\n[Sidenote: 1796]\n\n[Sidenote: June 17 to 30]\n\nIn the Summer of 1796 visited my Diocese in person, I have great reason\nto suppose for the last time; being in the 77th year of my age\u2014_fiat\nvoluntas Dei!_\n\n[Sidenote: Sept. 1]\n\nMrs. Stafford Smith, late Mrs. Warburton, died at Fladbury, September\n1, 1796.\n\n[Sidenote: 1797]\n\n[Sidenote: April 5]\n\nMr. Mason died at Aston, April 5, 1797. He was one of my oldest and\nmost respected friends. How few of this description now remain!\n\n[Sidenote: 1799]\n\n[Sidenote: Jan. 24]\n\nBy God\u2019s great mercy enter this day [24 Jan. 1799] into my 80th year.\nPs. xc. 10. But see, 1 Cor. xv. 22. Rom. viii. 18. 1 Pet. i. 3-5. \u03a7\u03ac\u03c1\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03c4\u1ff7 \u0398\u03b5\u1ff7 \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b4\u03b9\u03b7\u03b3\u03ae\u03c4\u1ff3 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u03c9\u03c1\u03b5\u1fb7. 2 Cor. ix. 15.\n\n[Sidenote: May 27 to June 14]\n\nIt pleased God that I was able this Summer to confirm over all parts of\nmy Diocese.\n\n[Sidenote: 1800]\n\n[Sidenote: June 6 to 17]\n\nAnd to visit my Diocese in person once more in June 1800.\u2014L. D.\n\n[Sidenote: 1801]\n\n[Sidenote: May 16]\n\nLost my old and worthy friend Dr. Heberden, in the 91st or 92nd year of\nhis age, May 16, 1801.\n\n[Sidenote: 1802]\n\n[Sidenote: June 15]\n\nConsecrated, on Tuesday the 15th of June, 1802, the new Church and\nChurch-yard of Lower Eatington, near Shipston, in Warwickshire.\n\n[Sidenote: Aug. 5]\n\nMy most deserving, unhappy, friend, Dr. William Arnald, died at\nLeicester, August 5, 1802.\n\n[Sidenote: 1803]\n\n[Sidenote: May 31 to June 3]\n\nVisited my Diocese by Commission\u2014Commissioners, Dr. Arnold, my\nChancellor, and Dr. Evans, Archdeacon.\n\n[Sidenote: 1804]\n\n[Sidenote: July 25]\n\nSt. James\u2019 day, July 25, 1804, held an Ordination in Hartlebury\nChapel\u20143 Deacons, 5 Priests\u2014the last I can expect to undertake.\n\n[Sidenote: 1805]\n\n[Sidenote:\n\n  March 27\n        28\n        29\n]\n\nConfirmations by the Bishop of Chester (Dr. Majendie.)\n\n  March 27, Stratford.\n        28, Bromsgrove.\n        29, Hales Owen.\n\n[Sidenote:\n\n  June 14\n       15\n       17\n]\n\n\u2014by the Bishop of Hereford (Dr. Cornwall.)\n\n  June 14, Worcester\n       15, Pershore\n       17, Kidderminster\n\n[Sidenote: 1806]\n\nVisited my Diocese this year by Commission\u2014\n\n  Commissioners,\n  The Chancellor and Archdeacon.\n      Warwick         May 26.\n      Worcester           28.\n      Kidderminster       30.\n      Pershore            31.\n\n[Sidenote: 1807]\n\n[Sidenote: Sept. 26]\n\n1807, Sept. 26. The Prince of Wales visited Lady Downshire, at\nOmbersley Court this month. I was too infirm to wait upon him either at\nOmbersley or Worcester; but his Royal Highness was pleased to call at\nHartlebury, on Saturday the 26th of this month, attended by his brother\nthe Duke of Sussex, and Lord Lake, and staid with me above an hour.\n\n[Sidenote: 1808]\n\n1808, April 23. Granted a Commission to the Bishop of Chester,\n(Dr. Majendie,) to consecrate the new Chapel and burying-ground at\nRed-Ditch, in the parish of Tardebig; which was performed this day,\nThursday, April 21, 1808, the proper officers of the Court, and two of\nmy Chaplains attending.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo this short narrative (the last paragraph of which was written by the\nAuthor only five weeks before his death) little more will be added.\n\nSo late as the first Sunday in February before his death, though then\ndeclining in health and strength, he was able to attend his Parish\nChurch, and to receive the Sacrament. Free from any painful or acute\ndisorder, he gradually became weaker, but his faculties continued\nperfect. After a few days confinement to his bed, he expired in his\nsleep, on Saturday morning, May 28, 1808; having completed four months\nbeyond his eighty-eighth year. He was buried in Hartlebury Church-yard,\naccording to his own directions.\n\nHe had been Bishop of Worcester for almost twenty-seven years: a longer\nperiod than any Bishop of that See since the Reformation.\n\n\n\n\nGENERAL CONTENTS.\n\n\n  VOL. I. and II.\n\n  CRITICAL WORKS.\n\n  VOL. I. Q. Horatii Flacci Epistolae ad Pisones, et Augustum: _With\n    an English Commentary and Notes_.\n\n  VOL. II. CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS.\n\n            _On the Idea of Universal Poetry._\n            _On the Provinces of Dramatic Poetry._\n            _On Poetical Imitation._\n            _On the Marks of Imitation._\n\n\n  VOL. III. and IV.\n\n  MORAL AND POLITICAL DIALOGUES.\n\n  VOL. III. _On Sincerity in the Commerce of the World._\n            _On Retirement._\n            _On the Age of Queen Elizabeth._\n            _On the Constitution of the English Government._\n\n  VOL. IV.  _On the Constitution of the English Government._\n            _On the Uses of Foreign Travel._\n            _And_\n            LETTERS _on Chivalry and Romance_.\n\n\n  VOL. V. VI. VII. and VIII.\n\n  THEOLOGICAL WORKS.\n\n  VOL. V. SERMONS _introductory to the study of the Prophecies_.\n                  _With an Appendix;_\n                  _Containing an anonymous Letter to the Author of these\n                     Sermons, and his Answer to it._\n\n  VOL. VI.   SERMONS _preached at Lincoln\u2019s Inn_.\n\n  VOL. VII.  SERMONS _preached at Lincoln\u2019s Inn_.\n\n  VOL. VIII. SERMONS _on public Occasions_.\n             CHARGES _to the Clergy_.\n             _And_\n             _An Appendix;_\n             _Containing Controversial Tracts on different subjects and\n                occasions._\n\n\n\n\n  CRITICAL WORKS.\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n\n\n\n  Q. HORATII FLACCI\n\n  EPISTOLAE\n\n  AD\n\n  PISONES,\n\n  ET\n\n  AUGUSTUM:\n\n  WITH AN ENGLISH\n\n  COMMENTARY AND NOTES:\n\n  TO WHICH ARE ADDED\n\n  CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n  INTRODUCTION,\n  _On Epistolary Writing_.\n\n  EPISTOLA AD PISONES:\n  _With an English Commentary and Notes_.\n\n  EPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM:\n  _With an English Commentary and Notes_.\n\n\n  VOL. II.\n\n  DISSERTATION I.\n  _On the Idea of Universal Poetry._\n\n  DISSERTATION II.\n  _On the Provinces of Dramatic Poetry._\n\n  DISSERTATION III.\n  _On Poetical Imitation._\n\n  DISSERTATION IV.\n  _On the Marks of Imitation._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n  INTRODUCTION,\n  _On Epistolary Writing_.                     13\n\n  EPISTOLA AD PISONES:\n  _With an English Commentary and Notes_.      27\n\n  EPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM:\n  _With an English Commentary and Notes_.     279\n\n\n\n\n  TO\n\n  SIR EDWARD LITTLETON, BART.\n\n\nDEAR SIR,\n\nHaving reviewed these Sheets with some care, I beg leave to put them\ninto your hands, as a testimony of the respect I bear you; and, for the\ntime that such things may have the fortune to live, as a monument of\nour friendship.\n\nYou see, by the turn of this address, you have nothing to fear from\nthat offensive adulation, which has so much dishonoured Letters. You\nand I have lived together on other terms. And I should be ashamed to\noffer you even such a trifle as this, in a manner that would give you a\nright to think meanly of its author.\n\nYour extreme delicacy allows me to say nothing of my obligations, which\notherwise would demand my warmest acknowledgements. For your constant\nfavour has followed me in all ways, in which you could contrive to\nexpress it. And indeed I have never known any man more sensible to the\ngood offices of his friends, and even to their good intentions, or\nmore disposed, by every proper method, to acknowledge them. But you\nmuch over-rate the little services, which it has been in my power to\nrender to you. I had the honour to be intrusted with a part of your\neducation, and it was my duty to contribute all I could to the success\nof it. But the task was easy and pleasant. I had only to cultivate that\ngood sense, and those generous virtues, which you brought with you to\nthe University, and which had already grown up to some maturity under\nthe care of a man, to whom we had both of us been extremely obliged;\nand who possessed every talent of a perfect institutor of youth in\na degree, which, I believe, has been rarely found in any of that\nprofession, since the days of _Quinctilian_.\n\nI wish this small tribute of respect, in which I know how cordially\nyou join with me, could be any honour to the memory of an excellent\nperson[4], who loved us both, and was less known, in his life-time,\nfrom that obscure situation to which the caprice of fortune oft\ncondemns the most accomplished characters, than his highest merit\ndeserved.\n\nIt was to cherish and improve that taste of polite letters, which his\nearly care had instilled into you, that you required me to explain to\nyou the following exquisite piece of the best poet. I recollect with\npleasure how welcome this slight essay then was to you; and am secure\nof the kind reception you will now give to it; improved, as I think\nit is, in some respects, and presented to you in this public way.\u2014I\nwas going to say, how much you benefited by this poet (the fittest of\nall others, for the study of a gentleman) in your acquaintance with\nhis _moral_, as well as critical writings; and how successfully you\napplied yourself to every other part of learning, which was thought\nproper for you\u2014But I remember my engagements with you, and will not\nhazard your displeasure by saying too much. It is enough for me to add,\nthat I truly respect and honour you; and that, for the rest, I indulge\nin those hopes, which every one, who knows you, entertains from the\nexcellence of your nature, from the hereditary honour of your family,\nand from an education in which you have been trained to the study of\nthe best things.\n\n  I am,\n  DEAR SIR,\n  Your most faithful and\n  most obedient Servant,\n  R. HURD.\n\n  EMAN. COLL. CAMB.\n  June 21, 1757.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIt is agreed on all hands, that the antients are our masters in the\n_art_ of composition. Such of their writings, therefore, as deliver\ninstructions for the exercise of this _art_, must be of the highest\nvalue. And, if any of them hath acquired a credit, in this respect,\nsuperior to the rest, it is, perhaps, the _following work_: which the\nlearned have long since considered as a kind of _summary_ of the rules\nof good writing; to be gotten by heart by every young student; and to\nwhose decisive authority the greatest masters in taste and composition\nmust finally submit.\n\nBut the more unquestioned the credit of this poem is, the more it will\nconcern the public, that it be justly and accurately understood. The\nwriter of these sheets then believed it might be of use, if he took\nsome pains to clear the sense, connect the method, and ascertain the\nscope and purpose, of this admired epistle. Others, he knew indeed, and\nsome of the first fame for critical learning, had been before him in\nthis attempt. Yet he did not find himself prevented by their labours;\nin which, besides innumerable lesser faults, he, more especially,\nobserved two inveterate errors, of such a sort, as must needs perplex\nthe genius, and distress the learning of _any_ commentator. The _one_\nof these respects the SUBJECT; the other, the METHOD of the _Art of\npoetry_. It will be necessary to say something upon each.\n\n1. That the _Art of poetry_, at large, is not the _proper_ subject\nof this piece, is so apparent, that it hath not escaped the dullest\nand least attentive of its critics. For, however all the different\n_kinds_ of poetry might appear to enter into it, yet every one saw,\nthat _some_ at least were very slightly considered: whence the frequent\nattempts, the _artes et institutiones poetic\u00e6_, of writers both at\nhome and abroad, to supply its deficiencies. But, though this truth\nwas seen and confessed, it unluckily happened, that the sagacity of\nhis numerous commentators went no further. They still considered this\nfamous epistle as a _collection_, though not a _system_, of criticisms\non poetry in general; with this concession however, that the stage\nhad evidently the largest share in it[5]. Under the influence of this\nprejudice, several writers of name took upon them to comment and\nexplain it: and with the success, which was to be expected from so\nfatal a mistake on setting out, as the not seeing, \u201cthat the proper and\nsole purpose of the author, was, not to abridge the Greek critics,\nwhom he probably never thought of; nor to amuse himself with composing\na short critical system, for the general use of poets, which every line\nof it absolutely confutes; but, simply to criticize the ROMAN DRAMA.\u201d\nFor to this end, not the tenor of the work only, but, as will appear,\nevery single precept in it, ultimately refers. The mischiefs of this\noriginal error have been long felt. It hath occasioned a constant\nperplexity in defining the _general_ method, and in fixing the import\nof _particular_ rules. Nay its effects have reached still further.\nFor, conceiving as they did, that the whole had been composed out of\nthe Greek critics, the labour and ingenuity of its interpreters have\nbeen misemployed in picking out authorities, which were not wanted,\nand in producing, or, more properly, by their studied refinements in\n_creating_, conformities, which were never designed. Whence it hath\ncome to pass, that, instead of investigating the order of the poet\u2019s\nown reflexions, and scrutinizing the peculiar state of the Roman stage\n(the methods, which common sense and common criticism would prescribe)\nthe world hath been nauseated with insipid lectures on _Aristotle_ and\n_Phalereus_; whose solid sense hath been so attenuated and subtilized\nby the delicate operation of French criticism, as hath even gone some\nway towards bringing the _art_ itself into disrepute.\n\n2. But the wrong explications of this poem have arisen, not from the\nmisconception of the _subject_ only, but from an inattention to the\nMETHOD of it. The _latter_ was, in part, the genuin consequence of\nthe _former_. For, not suspecting an unity of design in the subject,\nits interpreters never looked for, or could never find a consistency\nof disposition in the method. And this was indeed the very block\nupon which HEINSIUS, and, before him, _Julius Scaliger_, himself,\nstumbled. These illustrious critics, with all the force of genius,\nwhich is required to disembarrass an involved subject, and all the\naids of learning, that can lend a ray to enlighten a dark one, have,\nnotwithstanding, found themselves utterly unable to unfold the order of\nthis epistle; insomuch, that SCALIGER[6], hath boldly pronounced the\nconduct of it to be _vicious_; and HEINSIUS, had no other way to evade\nthe charge, than by recurring to the forced and uncritical expedient\nof a licentious transposition. The truth is, they were both in one\ncommon error, That the poet\u2019s purpose had been to write a criticism of\nthe art of poetry at large, and not, as is here shewn, of the Roman\ndrama in particular. But there is something more to be observed, in\nthe case of HEINSIUS. For, as will be made appear in the notes on\nparticular places, this critic did not pervert the order of the piece,\nfrom a simple mistake about the drift of the subject, but, also, from a\ntotal inapprehension of the genuin charm and beauty of the _epistolary\nmethod_. And, because I take this to be a principal cause of the wrong\ninterpretations, that have been given of all the epistles of Horace;\nand it is, in itself, a point of curious criticism, of which little or\nnothing hath been said by any good writer, I will take the liberty to\nenlarge upon it.\n\nTHE EPISTLE, however various in its appearances, is, in fact, but of\n_two_ kinds; _one_ of which may be called the DIDACTIC; the _other_,\nthe ELEGIAC epistle. By the FIRST I mean all those epistles, whose\nend is to _instruct_; whether the subject be _morals_, _politics_,\n_criticism_, or, in general, _human life_: by the LATTER, all those,\nwhose end is to _move_; whether the occasion be _love_, _friendship_,\n_jealousy_, or other private distresses. If there are some of a lighter\nkind in Horace, and other good writers, which seem not reducible to\neither of these two classes, they are to be regarded only, as the\ntriflings of their pen, and deserve not to be considered, as making a\n_third_ and distinct species of this poem.\n\nNow these two kinds of the _epistle_, as they differ widely from each\nother in their _subject_ and _end_, so do they likewise in their\n_original_: though both _flourished_ at the same time, and are both\nwholly _Roman_.\n\nI. The former, or DIDACTIC epistle, was, in fact, the true and proper\noffspring of the SATIRE. It will be worth while to reflect how this\nhappened. _Satire_, in its origin, I mean in the rude _fescennine\nfarce_, from which the idea of this poem was taken was a mere\nextemporaneous jumble of mirth and ill-nature. ENNIUS, who had the\nhonour of introducing it under its new name, without doubt, civilized\nboth, yet left it without form or method; it being only, in his hands,\na rhapsody of poems on different subjects, and in different measures.\nCommon sense disclaiming the extravagance of this heterogeneous\nmixture, LUCILIUS advanced it, in its next step, to an unity of\n_design_ and _metre_; which was so considerable a change, that it\nprocured him the high appellation of INVENTOR of this poem. Though,\nwhen I say, that Lucilius introduced into satire _an unity of metre_, I\nmean only, in _the same piece_; for the measure, in different satires,\nappears to have been different. That the _design_ in him was _one_, I\nconclude, _first_, Because Horace expresly informs us, that _the form\nor kind of writing_ in the satires of Lucilius was exactly the same\nwith _that_ in his own; in which no one will pretend, that there is\nthe least appearance of that rhapsodical, detached form, which made\nthe character of the _old satire_. But, _principally_, because, on\nany other supposition, it does not appear, what could give Lucilius a\nclaim to that high appellation of INVENTOR of this poem. That he was\nthe _first_, who copied the manner of the _old comedy_ in satire, could\nnever be sufficient for this purpose. For all, that he derived into it\nfrom thence, was, as Quinctilian speaks, _libertas atque inde acerbitas\net abunde salis_. It sharpened his _invective_, and polished his\n_wit_, that is, it improved the _air_, but did not alter the _form_\nof the satire. As little can a right to this title be pleaded from\nthe _uniformity of measure_, which he introduced into it. For _this_,\nwithout an _unity of design_, is so far from being an alteration for\nthe better, that it even heightens the absurdity; it being surely more\nreasonable to adapt different measures to different subjects, than\nto treat a number of inconnected and quite different subjects in the\n_same_ measure. When therefore Horace tells us, that Lucilius was the\n_Inventor_ of the satire, it must needs be understood, that he was the\nFIRST, who, from its former confused state, reduced it into a regular\nconsistent poem, respecting one main _end_, as well as observing one\n_measure_. Little now remained for HORACE but to polish and refine. His\nonly material alteration was, that he appropriated to the satire ONE,\nthat is, the heroic metre.\n\nFrom this short history of the satire we collect, 1. that its\ndesign was _one_: And 2. we learn, what was the general form of its\ncomposition. For, arising out of a loose, disjointed, miscellany,\nits method, when most regular, would be free and unconstrained;\nnature demanding some chain of connexion, and a respect to its origin\nrequiring that connexion to be slight and somewhat concealed. But its\n_aim_, as well as origin, exacted this careless method. For being, as\nDiomedes observes, _arch\u00e6\u00e6 com\u0153di\u00e6 charactere compositum_, \u201cprofessedly\nwritten after the manner of the old comedy,\u201d it was of course to\nadmit the familiarity of the comic muse; whose genius is averse from\nall constraint of _order_, save that only which a natural, successive\ntrain of thinking unavoidably draws along with it. And this, by the\nway, accounts for the dialogue air, so frequent in the Roman satire,\nas likewise for the looser numbers which appeared so essential to the\ngrace of it. It was in learned allusion to this comic genius of the\nsatire, that Mr. Pope hath justly characterized it in the following\nmanner:\n\n    \u201cHorace still charms with graceful negligence,\n    \u201cAnd, without method, TALKS us into sense.\u201d\n\n2. It being now seen, what was the real form of the _satire_, nothing,\nit is plain, was wanting, but the application of a particular\naddress, to constitute the _didactic epistle_: the structure of this\npoem, as prescribed by the laws of nature and good sense, being in\nnothing different from that of the _other_. For here 1. an _unity_\nof subject or design is indispensably necessary, the freedom of a\nmiscellaneous matter being permitted only to the familiar letter. And\n2. not professing _formally_ to instruct (which alone justifies the\nseverity of strict method) but, when of the gravest kind, in the way of\naddress only to _insinuate_ instruction, it naturally takes an air of\nnegligence and inconnexion, such as we have before seen essential to\nthe satire. All which is greatly confirmed by the testimony of _one_,\nwho could not be uninformed in these matters. In addressing his friend\non the object of his studies, he says,\n\n                                      _sive\n    Liventem_ satiram _nigra rubigine turpes,\n    Seu tua_ NON ALIA _splendescat_ epistola CURA.\n              [Stat. lib. i. Sylv. Tiburt. M. V.]\n\nplainly intimating, that the rules and labour of composition were\nexactly the same in these two poems. Though the critics on Statius,\nnot apprehending this identity, or exact correspondence between the\n_satire_ and _epistle_, have unnecessarily, and without warrant,\naltered the text, in this place, from ALIA into ALTA.\n\n3. The general form and structure of _this_ epistle being thus clearly\nunderstood, it will now be easy, in few words, to deduce the peculiar\nlaws of its composition.\n\nAnd 1. it cannot wholly divest itself of all method: For, having\nonly one point in view, it must of course pursue it by some kind of\nconnexion. The progress of the mind in rational thinking requires, that\nthe chain be never broken entirely, even in its freest excursions.\n\n2. As there must needs be a _connexion_, so _that connexion_ will best\nanswer its end and the purpose of the writer, which, whilst it leads,\nby a sure train of thinking, to the conclusion in view, conceals itself\nall the while, and leaves to the reader the satisfaction of supplying\nthe intermediate links, and joining together, in his own mind, what\nis left in a seeming posture of neglect and inconnexion. The art of\nfurnishing this gratification, so respectful to the sagacity of the\nreader, without putting him to the trouble of a painful investigation,\nis what constitutes the supreme charm and beauty of EPISTOLARY METHOD.\n\nII. What hath hitherto been advanced respects chiefly the _didactic_\nform. It remains to say something of that other _species_ of the\nepistle, the ELEGIAC; which, as I observed, had quite another\n_original_. For this apparently sprung up from what is properly called\nthe _Elegy_: a poem of very antient Greek extraction: naturally arising\nfrom the plaintive, querulous humour of mankind; which, under the\npressure of any grief, is impatient to break forth into wailings and\ntender expostulations, and finds a kind of relief in indulging and\ngiving a loose to that flow of sorrow, which it hath not strength or\nresolution wholly[7] to restrain. This is the account of the _Elegy_\nin its proper Greek form; a negligent, inconnected, abrupt species of\nwriting, perfectly suited to an indolent disposition and passionate\nheart. Such was OVID\u2019S; who, taking advantage of this character of the\nelegy, contrived[8] a new kind of poetry, without the expence of much\ninvention, or labour to himself. For, collecting, as it were, those\nscattered hints, which composed the elegy, and directing them to one\nprincipal view; and superadding a personal address, he became the\nauthor of what is here styled the _Elegiac_ epistle; beautiful models\nof which we have in his HEROIDES, and the _Epistles from_ PONTUS.\nWe see then the difference of _this_ from the _didactic_ form. They\nhave both one principal end and point in view. But the _Didactic_,\nbeing of a cooler and more sedate turn, pursues its design uniformly\nand connects easily. The _Elegiac_, on the contrary, whose end is\n_emotion_, not _instruction_, hath all the abruptness of irregular\ndisordered passion. It catches at remote and distant hints, and starts\nat once into a digressive train of thinking, which it requires some\ndegree of enthusiasm in the reader to follow.\n\nFurther than this it is not material to my present design to pursue\nthis subject. More exact ideas of the form and constitution of this\nepistle, must be sought in that best example of it, the natural Roman\npoet. It may only be observed of the different qualities, necessary to\nthose, who aspire to excel in these _two_ species: that, as the _one_\nwould make an impression on the _heart_, it can only do this by means\nof an exquisite _sensibility of nature and elegance of mind_; and that\nthe _other_, attempting in the most inoffensive manner, to inform\nthe _head_, must demand, to the full accomplishment of its purpose,\n_superior good sense_, _the widest knowledge of life_, and, above all,\n_the politeness of a consummate address_. That the _former_ was the\ncharacteristic of OVID\u2019S genius hath been observed, and is well known.\nHow far the _latter_ description agrees to HORACE can be no secret to\nthose of his readers who have any share, or conception of these talents\nthemselves. But matters of this _nicer_ kind are properly the objects,\nnot of _criticism_, but of _sentiment_. Let it suffice then to examine\nthe poet\u2019s practice, so far only, as we are enabled to judge of it by\nthe standard of the preceding rules.\n\nIII. These rules are reducible to _three_. 1. _that there be an unity\nin the subject_. 2. _a connexion in the method_: and 3. _that such\nconnexion be easy_. All which I suppose to have been religiously\nobserved in the poet\u2019s conduct of _this_, _i. e._ the _didactic_\nepistle. For,\n\n1. The _subject_ of each epistle is one: that is, one single point is\nprosecuted through the whole piece, notwithstanding that the address\nof the poet, and the delicacy of the subject may sometimes lead him\nthrough a devious tract to it. Had his interpreters attended to this\npractice, so consonant to the rule of nature before explained, they\ncould never have found _an art of poetry_ in the epistle, we are about\nto examine.\n\n2. This one point, however it hath not been seen[9], is constantly\npursued by an uniform, consistent _method_; which is never more\nartificial, than when least apparent to a careless, inattentive reader.\nThis should have stimulated his learned critics to seek the connexion\nof the poet\u2019s own ideas, when they magisterially set themselves to\ntranspose or vilify his method.\n\n3. This method is every where sufficiently _clear and obvious_;\nproceeding if not in the strictest forms of _disposition_, yet, in an\neasy, elegant progress, one hint arising out of another, and insensibly\ngiving occasion to succeeding ones, just as the cooler genius of this\n_kind_ required. This, lastly, should have prevented those, who have\ntaken upon themselves to criticize _the art of poetry_ by the laws of\n_this_ poem, from concealing their ignorance of its real views under\nthe cover of such abrupt and violent transitions, as might better agree\nto the impassioned _elegy_, than to the sedate _didactic epistle_.\n\nTo set this three-fold character, in the fullest light, before the view\nof the reader, I have attempted to explain the _Epistle to the Pisos_,\nin the way of continued commentary upon it. And that the coherence of\nthe several parts may be the more distinctly seen, the Commentary is\nrendered as concise as possible; some of the finer and less obvious\nconnexions being more carefully observed and drawn out in the notes.\n\nFor the _kind_ of interpretation itself, it must be allowed, of all\nothers, the fittest to throw light upon a difficult and obscure\nsubject, and, above all, to convey an exact idea of the scope and order\nof any work. It hath, accordingly, been so considered by several of the\nforeign, particularly the ITALIAN, critics; who have essayed long since\nto illustrate, in this way, the very piece before us. But the _success_\nof these foreigners is, I am sensible, a slender recommendation of\ntheir _method_. I chuse therefore to rest on the _single_ authority of\na great author, who, in his _edition_ of our English Horace, the _best_\nthat ever was given of any classic, hath now retrieved and established\nthe full credit of it. What was the amusement of his pen, becomes\nindeed, the _labour_ of inferior writers. Yet, on these unequal terms,\nit can be no discredit to have aimed at some resemblance of one of the\nleast of those _merits_, which shed their united honours on the name of\nthe illustrious _friend_ and _commentator of_ Mr. POPE.\n\n\n\n\nQ. HORATII FLACCI\n\nARS POETICA\n\nEPISTOLA AD PISONES.\n\n\n    Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam\n    Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas\n    Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum\n    Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne;\n    Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici?                      5\n    Credite, Pisones, isti tabulae fore librum\n    Persimilem, cujus, velut aegri somnia, vanae\n    Fingentur species; ut nec pes, nec caput uni\n    Reddatur formae. Pictoribus atque poetis\n    Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas:               10\n    Scimus, et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim:\n    Sed non ut placidis co\u00ebant inmitia; non ut\n    Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.\n    Inceptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis\n    Purpureus, late qui splendeat, unus et alter                15\n    Adsuitur pannus: cum lucus, et ara Dianae,\n    Et properantis aquae per amoenos ambitus agros,\n    Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius describitur arcus.\n    Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortasse cupressum\n    Scis simulare: quid hoc, si fractis enatat exspes           20\n    Navibus, aere dato qui pingitur? amphora coepit\n    Institui, currente rota, cur urceus exit?\n    Denique sit quidvis; simplex dumtaxat et unum.\n    Maxima pars vatum, pater et juvenes patre digni,\n    Decipimur specie recti. Brevis esse laboro,                 25\n    Obscurus fio: sectantem lenia nervi\n    Deficiunt animique: professus grandia turget:\n    Serpit humi tutus nimium timidusque procellae:\n    Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam,\n    Delphinum silvis adpingit, fluctibus aprum.                 30\n    In vitium ducit culpae fuga, si caret arte.\n    Aemilium circa ludum faber, unus et unguis\n    Exprimet, et mollis imitabitur aere capillos;\n    Infelix operis, summa: quia ponere totum\n    Nesciet. hunc ego me, si quid componere curem,              35\n    Non magis esse velim; quam naso vivere pravo,\n    Spectandum nigris oculis nigroque capillo.\n    Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, aequam\n    Viribus; et versate diu, quid ferre recusent,\n    Quid valeant humeri. cui lecta potenter erit res,           40\n    Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucides ordo.\n    Ordinis haec virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor;\n    Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici\n    Pleraque differat et praesens in tempus omittat.\n    Hoc amet, hoc spernat, promissi carminis auctor.            45\n    In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis;\n    Dixeris egregie, notum si callida verbum\n    Reddiderit junctura novum; si forte necesse est\n    Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum;\n    Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis                     50\n    Continget: dabiturque licentia sumta pudenter.\n    Et nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem; si\n    Graeco fonte cadent, parce detorta, quid autem:\n    Caecilio Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademtum\n    Virgilio Varioque? ego cur adquirere pauca,                 55\n    Si possum, invideor? quum lingua Catonis et Enni\n    Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum\n    Nomina protulerit. licuit, semperque licebit\n    Signatum praesente nota procudere nummum.\n    Ut silvis folia privos mutantur in annos;                   60\n    Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit aetas,\n    Et juvenum ritu florent modo nata vigentque.\n    Debemur morti nos, nostraque: sive receptus\n    Terra Neptunus classis Aquilonibus arcet,\n    Regis opus; sterilisve palus prius aptaque remis            65\n    Vicinas urbis alit, et grave sentit aratrum:\n    Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,\n    Doctus iter melius: mortalia cuncta peribunt:\n    Nedum sermonum stet honos, et gratia vivax.\n    Multa renascentur, quae jam cecidere; cadentque,            70\n    Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula: si volet usus,\n    Quem penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.\n    Res gestae regumque ducumque, et tristia bella,\n    Quo scribi possent numero, monstravit Homerus.\n    Versibus inpariter junctis querimonia primum,               75\n    Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.\n    Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,\n    Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.\n    Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo.\n    Hunc socci cepere pedem grandesque cothurni,                80\n    Alternis aptum sermonibus, et popularis\n    Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.\n    Musa dedit fidibus Divos, puerosque Deorum,\n    Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,\n    Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.                   85\n    Descriptas servare vices operumque colores,\n    Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor?\n    Cur nescire, pudens prave, quam discere malo?\n    Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non volt:\n    Indignatur item privatis ac prope socco                     90\n    Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyestae.\n    Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decentem.\n    Interdum tamen et vocem comoedia tollit,\n    Iratusque Chremes tumido dilitigat ore.\n    Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri.               95\n    Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,\n    Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,\n    Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela.\n    Non satis est pulchra esse po\u00ebmata; dulcia sunto,\n    Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto.              100\n    Ut ridentibus adrident, ita flentibus adflent\n    Humani voltus. si vis me flere, dolendum est\n    Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.\n    Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris,\n    Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo. tristia moestum                 105\n    Voltum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum;\n    Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.\n    Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem\n    Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut inpellit ad iram,\n    Aut ad humum moerore gravi deducit, et angit:              110\n    Post effert animi motus interprete lingua.\n    Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,\n    Romani tollent equitesque patresque cachinnum.\n    Intererit multum, Divusne loquatur, an heros;\n    Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventa                 115\n    Fervidus; et matrona potens, an sedula nutrix;\n    Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;\n    Colchus, an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.\n    Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge,\n    Scriptor. Homereum si forte reponis Achillem;              120\n    Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,\n    Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.\n    Sit Medea ferox invictaque, flebilis Ino,\n    Perfidus Ixion, Io vaga, tristis Orestes.\n    Si quid inexpertum scenae conmittis, et audes              125\n    Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum\n    Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.\n    Difficile est proprie communia dicere: tuque\n    Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,\n    Qu\u00e0m si proferres ignota indictaque primus.                130\n    Publica materies privati juris erit, si\n    Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem;\n    Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus\n    Interpres; nec desilies imitator in artum,\n    Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet aut operis lex.            135\n    Nec sic incipies, ut scriptor cyclicus olim:\n    FORTUNAM PRIAMI CANTABO, ET NOBILE BELLUM.\n    Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?\n    Parturiunt montes: nascetur ridiculus mus.\n    Quanto rectius hic, qui n\u00eel molitur inepte!                140\n    DIC MIHI, MUSA, VIRUM, CAPTAE POST MOENIA TROJAE,\n    QUI MORES HOMINUM MULTORUM VIDIT ET URBIS.\n    Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem\n    Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat,\n    Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cyclope Charybdin.          145\n    Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,\n    Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo:\n    Semper ad eventum festinat; et in medias res,\n    Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit; et quae\n    Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit:              150\n    Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,\n    Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.\n    Tu, quid ego et populus mecum desideret, audi;\n    Si fautoris eges aulaea manentis, et usque\n    Sessuri, donec cantor, Vos plaudite, dicat:                155\n    Aetatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores,\n    Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus et annis.\n    Reddere qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo\n    Signat humum; gestit paribus colludere, et iram\n    Colligit ac ponit temere, et mutatur in horas.             160\n    Inberbus juvenis, tandem custode remoto,\n    Gaudet equis canibusque et aprici gramine campi;\n    Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper,\n    Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus aeris,\n    Sublimis, cupidusque, et amata relinquere pernix.          165\n    Conversis studiis, aetas animusque virilis\n    Quaerit opes et amicitias, inservit honori;\n    Conmisisse cavet quod mox mutare laboret.\n    Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda; vel quod\n    Quaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti;         170\n    Vel qu\u00f2d res omnis timide gelideque ministrat,\n    Dilator, spe lentus, iners, pavidusque futuri;\n    Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti\n    Se puero, castigator, censorque minorum.\n    Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum,                 175\n    Multa recedentes adimunt: ne forte seniles\n    Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles.\n    Semper in adjunctis aevoque morabimur aptis.\n    Aut agitur res in scenis, aut acta refertur:\n    Segnius inritant animos demissa per aurem,                 180\n    Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae\n    Ipse sibi tradit spectator. non tamen intus\n    Digna geri promes in scenam: multaque tolles\n    Ex oculis, quae mox narret facundia praesens:\n    Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet;                     185\n    Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus;\n    Aut in avem Procne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.\n    Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.\n    Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu\n    Fabula, quae posci volt, et spectata reponi.               190\n    Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus\n    Inciderit: nec quarta loqui persona laboret.\n    Actoris partes chorus, officiumque virile\n    Defendat: neu quid medios intercinat actus,\n    Quod non proposito conducat et haereat apte.               195\n    Ille bonis faveatque et consilietur amice,\n    Et regat iratos, et amet pacare tumentis:\n    Ille dapes laudet mensae brevis, ille salubrem\n    Justitiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis:\n    Ille tegat conmissa; Deosque precetur et oret,             200\n    Ut redeat miseris, abeat fortuna superbis.\n    Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco juncta, tubaeque\n    Aemula; sed tenuis, simplexque foramine pauco,\n    Aspirare et adesse choris erat utilis, atque\n    Nondum spissa nimis conplere sedilia flatu:                205\n    Quo sane populus numerabilis, utpote parvus\n    Et frugi castusque verecundusque coibat.\n    Postquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem\n    Laxior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno\n    Placari Genius festis inpune diebus;                       210\n    Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.\n    Indoctus quid enim saperet liberque laborum,\n    Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?\n    Sic priscae motumque et luxuriem addidit arti\n    Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem:               215\n    Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere severis,\n    Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia praeceps;\n    Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri,\n    Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.\n    Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum,              220\n    Mox etiam agrestis Satyros nudavit, et asper\n    Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit: eo quod\n    Inlecebris erat et grata novitate morandus\n    Spectator functusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.\n    Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicacis                  225\n    Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere seria ludo;\n    Ne quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebitur heros\n    Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro,\n    Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas:\n    Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet.              230\n    Effutire levis indigna tragoedia versus,\n    Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus,\n    Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.\n    Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina solum\n    Verbaque, Pisones, Satyrorum scriptor amabo:               235\n    Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori;\n    Ut nihil intersit, Davusne loquatur et audax\n    Pythias emuncto lucrata Simone talentum;\n    An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni.\n    Ex noto fictum carmen sequar: ut sibi quivis               240\n    Speret idem; sudet multum, frustraque laboret\n    Ausus idem: tantum series juncturaque pollet:\n    Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.\n    Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni,\n    Ne velut innati triviis, ac pene forenses,                 245\n    Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus umquam,\n    Aut inmunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta.\n    Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et res;\n    Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,\n    Aequis accipiunt animis, donantve corona.                  250\n    Syllaba longa brevi subjecta, vocatur Iambus,\n    Pes citus: unde etiam Trimetris adcrescere jussit\n    Nomen Iambeis, cum senos redderet ictus\n    Primus ad extremum similis sibi: non ita pridem,\n    Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad auris,              255\n    Spondeos stabilis in jura paterna recepit\n    Commodus et patiens: non ut de sede secunda\n    Cederet, aut quarta socialiter. Hic et in Acc\u00ee\n    Nobilibus Trimetris apparet rarus, et Enn\u00ee.\n    In scenam missus cum magno pondere versus,                 260\n    Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis,\n    Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.\n    Non quivis videt immodulata po\u00ebmata judex:\n    Et data Romanis venia est indigna poetis.\n    Idcircone vager, scribamque licenter? ut omnis             265\n    Visuros peccata putem mea; tutas et intra\n    Spem veniae cautus? vitavi denique culpam,\n    Non laudem merui. Vos exemplaria Graeca\n    Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.\n    At vestri proavi Plautinos et numeros et                   270\n    Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque\n    (Ne dicam stulte) mirati: si modo ego et vos\n    Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto,\n    Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure.\n    Ignotum tragicae genus invenisse Camenae                   275\n    Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse po\u00ebmata Thespis\n    Qui canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora.\n    Post hunc personae pallaeque repertor honestae\n    Aeschylos et modicis instravit pulpita tignis,\n    Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno.               280\n    Successit vetus his Comoedia, non sine multa\n    Laude: sed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim\n    Dignam lege regi: lex est accepta; chorusque\n    Turpiter obticuit, sublato jure nocendi.\n    Nil intentatum nostri liquere po\u00ebtae:                      285\n    Nec minimum meruere decus, vestigia Graeca\n    Ausi deserere, et celebrare domestica facta,\n    Vel qui Praetextas, vel qui docuere Togatas.\n    Nec virtute foret clarisve potentius armis,\n    Quam lingua, Latium; si non offenderet unum-               290\n    Quemque po\u00ebtarum limae labor et mora. Vos, \u00f4\n    Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non\n    Multa dies et multa litura co\u00ebrcuit, atque\n    Praesectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.\n    Ingenium misera quia fortunatius arte                      295\n    Credit, et excludit sanos Helicone po\u00ebtas\n    Democritus; bona pars non unguis ponere curat,\n    Non barbam: secreta petit loca, balnea vitat.\n    Nanciscetur enim pretium nomenque po\u00ebtae,\n    Si tribus Anticyris caput insanabile numquam               300\n    Tonsori Licino conmiserit. O ego laevus,\n    Qui purgor bilem sub verni temporis horam?\n    Non alius faceret meliora po\u00ebmata: verum\n    Nil tanti est. ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum\n    Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.            305\n    Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo;\n    Unde parentur opes: quid alat formetque po\u00ebtam;\n    Quid deceat, quid non; quo virtus, quo ferat error.\n    Scribendi recte, sapere est et principium et fons.\n    Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt ostendere chartae:            310\n    Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequentur.\n    Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis;\n    Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hospes;\n    Quod sit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quae\n    Partes in bellum missi ducis; ille profecto                315\n    Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique.\n    Respicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo\n    Doctum imitatorem, et vivas hinc ducere voces.\n    Interdum speciosa locis, morataque recte\n    Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte,             320\n    Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,\n    Quam versus inopes rerum, nugaeque canorae.\n    Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo\n    Musa loqui, praeter laudem, nullius avaris.\n    Romani pueri longis rationibus assem                       325\n    Discunt in partis centum diducere. Dicas\n    Filius Albini, si de quincunce remota est\n    Uncia, quid superet, poterat dixisse, triens? Eu!\n    Rem poteris servare tuam. Redit uncia: quid fit?\n    Semis. An haec animos aerugo et cura pecul\u00ee                330\n    Cum semel inbuerit, speramus carmina fingi\n    Posse linenda cedro, et levi servanda cupresso?\n    Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare po\u00ebtae;\n    Aut simul et jocunda et idonea dicere vitae.\n    Quicquid praecipies, esto brevis: ut cito dicta            335\n    Percipiant animi dociles, teneantque fideles.\n    [Omne supervacuum pleno de pectore manat.]\n    Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris:\n    Ne, quodcumque volet, poscat sibi fabula credi;\n    Neu pransae Lamiae vivum puerum extrahat alvo.             340\n    Centuriae seniorum agitant expertia frugis:\n    Celsi praetereunt austera po\u00ebmata Ramnes.\n    Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,\n    Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo.\n    Hic meret aera liber Sosiis, hic et mare transit,          345\n    Et longum noto scriptori prorogat aevum.\n    Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus:\n    Nam neque chorda sonum reddit, quem volt manus et mens;\n    Poscentique gravem persaepe remittit acutum:\n    Nee semper feriet, quodcumque minabitur, arcus.            350\n    Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis\n    Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit,\n    Aut humana parum cavit natura. quid ergo est?\n    Ut scriptor si peccat idem librarius usque,\n    Quamvis est monitus, venia caret; ut citharoedus           355\n    Ridetur, chorda qui semper oberrat eadem:\n    Sic mihi qui multum cessat, fit Choerilos ille,\n    Quem bis terve bonum, cum risu miror; et idem\n    Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.\n    Verum operi longo fas est obrepere somnum.                 360\n    Ut pictura, po\u00ebsis: erit quae, si propius stes,\n    Te capiat magis; et quaedam, si longius abstes:\n    Haec amat obscurum; volet haec sub luce videri,\n    Judicis argutum quae non formidat acumen:\n    Haec placuit semel; haec decies repetita placebit.         365\n    O major juvenum, quamvis et voce paterna\n    Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis; hoc tibi dictum\n    Tolle memor: certis medium et tolerabile rebus\n    Recte concedi: consultus juris, et actor\n    Causarum mediocris; abest virtute diserti                  370\n    Messallae, nec scit quantum Cascellius Aulus;\n    Sed tamen in pretio est: mediocribus esse po\u00ebtis\n    Non homines, non D\u00ee, non concessere columnae.\n    Ut gratas inter mensas symphonia discors,\n    Et crassum unguentum, et Sardo cum melle papaver           375\n    Offendunt; poterat duci quia coena sine istis:\n    Sic animis natum inventumque po\u00ebma juvandis,\n    Si paulum summo decessit, vergit ad imum.\n    Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abstinet armis;\n    Indoctusque pilae, discive, trochive, quiescit;            380\n    Ne spissae risum tollant inpune coronae:\n    Qui nescit versus, tamen audet fingere. Quid n\u00ee?\n    Liber et ingenuus; praesertim census equestrem\n    Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni.\n    Tu nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva:                    385\n    Id tibi judicium est, ea mens, si quid tamen olim\n    Scripseris, in Maec\u00ee descendat judicis auris,\n    Et patris, et nostras; nonumque prematur in annum,\n    Membranis intus positis. Delere licebit\n    Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti.               390\n    Silvestris homines sacer interpresque Deorum\n    Caedibus et victu foedo deterruit Orpheus;\n    Dictus ob hoc lenire tigris rabidosque leones.\n    Dictus et Amphion, Thebanae conditor arcis,\n    Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda               395\n    Ducere quo vellet. fuit haec sapientia quondam,\n    Publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis;\n    Concubitu prohibere vago; dare jura maritis;\n    Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno.\n    Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque                   400\n    Carminibus venit. post hos insignis Homerus\n    Tyrtaeusque mares animos in Martia bella\n    Versibus exacuit. dictae per carmina sortes,\n    Et vitae monstrata via est, et gratia regum\n    Pieriis tentata modis, ludusque repertus,                  405\n    Et longorum operum finis; ne forte pudori\n    Sit tibi Musa lyrae solers, et cantor Apollo.\n    Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte,\n    Quaesitum est. Ego nec studium sine divite vena,\n    Nec rude quid possit video ingenium: alterius sic          410\n    Altera poscit opem res, et conjurat amice.\n    Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam,\n    Multa tulit fecitque puer; sudavit et alsit;\n    Abstinuit venere et vino. qui Pythia cantat\n    Tibicen, didicit prius, extimuitque magistrum.             415\n    Nec satis est dixisse, Ego mira po\u00ebmata pango:\n    Occupet extremum scabies: mihi turpe relinqui est,\n    Et, quod non didici, sane nescire fateri.\n    Ut praeco, ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas;\n    Adsentatores jubet ad lucrum ire po\u00ebta                     420\n    Dives agris, dives positis in foenore nummis.\n    Si vero est, unctum qui recte ponere possit,\n    Et spondere levi pro paupere, et eripere artis\n    Litibus inplicitum; mirabor, si sciet inter-\n    Noscere mendacem verumque beatus amicum.                   425\n    Tu seu donaris seu quid donare voles cui;\n    Nolito ad versus tibi factos ducere plenum\n    Laetitiae; clamabit enim, Pulchre, bene, recte!\n    Pallescet: super his etiam stillabit amicis\n    Ex oculis rorem; saliet; tundet pede terram.               430\n    Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt\n    Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo: sic\n    Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur.\n    Reges dicuntur multis urguere culullis,\n    Et torquere mero quem perspexisse laborant                 435\n    An sit amicitia dignus. si carmina condes,\n    Nunquam te fallant animi sub volpe latentes.\n    Quintilio si quid recitares: Corrige sodes\n    Hoc, aiebat, et hoc. melius te posse negares,\n    Bis terque expertum frustra? delere jubebat,               440\n    Et male ter natos incudi reddere versus.\n    Si defendere delictum, quam vertere, malles;\n    Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam insumebat inanem,\n    Quin sine rivali teque et tua solus amares.\n    Vir bonus et prudens versus reprehendet inertis;           445\n    Culpabit duros; incomptis adlinet atrum\n    Transverso calamo signum; ambitiosa recidet\n    Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget;\n    Arguet ambigue dictum; mutanda notabit;\n    Fiet Aristarchus; non dicet, Cur ego amicum                450\n    Offendam in nugis? Hae nugae seria ducent\n    In mala derisum semel, exceptumque sinistre.\n    Ut mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urguet,\n    Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana;\n    Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntque po\u00ebtam,                455\n    Qui sapiunt: agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur.\n    Hic, dum sublimis versus ructatur, et errat,\n    Si veluti merulis intentus decidit auceps\n    In puteum, foveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum\n    Clamet, io cives: non sit qui tollere curet.               460\n    Si curet quis opem ferre, et demittere funem;\n    Qu\u00ee scis, an prudens huc se projecerit, atque\n    Servari nolit? dicam: Siculique po\u00ebtae\n    Narrabo interitum. Deus inmortalis haberi\n    Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus Aetnam             465\n    Insiluit. sit jus, liceatque perire po\u00ebtis.\n    Invitum qui servat, idem facit occidenti.\n    Nec semel hoc fecit; nec si retractus erit jam,\n    Fiet homo, et ponet famosae mortis amorem.\n    Nec satis adparet, cur versus factitet; utrum              470\n    Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental\n    Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus\n    Objectos caveae valuit si frangere clathros,\n    Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.\n    Quem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo,             475\n    Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris, hirudo.\n\n\nCOMMENTARY.\n\nThe subject of this piece being, as I suppose, _one, viz. the state of\nthe Roman Drama_, and common sense requiring, even in the freest forms\nof composition, some kind of _method_, the intelligent reader will not\nbe surprised to find the poet prosecuting his subject in a regular,\nwell-ordered _plan_; which, for the more exact description of it, I\ndistinguish into three parts:\n\nI. The first of them [from v. 1 to 89] is preparatory to the main\nsubject of the epistle, containing some general rules and reflexions on\npoetry, but principally with an eye to the following parts: by which\nmeans it serves as an useful introduction to the poet\u2019s design, and\nopens with that air of ease and negligence, essential to the epistolary\nform.\n\nII. The main body of the epistle [from v. 89 to 295] is laid out in\nregulating the _Roman_ stage; but chiefly in giving rules for tragedy;\nnot only as that was the sublimer species of the _Drama_, but, as it\nshould seem, less cultivated and understood.\n\nIII. The last part [from v. 295 to the end] exhorts to correctness in\nwriting; yet still with an eye, principally, to the _dramatic species_;\nand is taken up partly in removing the causes, that prevented it, and\npartly in directing to the use of such means, as might serve to promote\nit. Such is the general plan of the epistle. In order to enter fully\ninto it, it will be necessary to trace the poet, attentively, through\nthe elegant connexions of his own method.\n\n\nPART I.\n\nGENERAL REFLEXIONS ON POETRY.\n\nThe epistle begins [to v. 9] with that general and fundamental precept\n_of preserving an unity in the subject and the disposition of the\npiece_. This is further explained by defining the use, and fixing the\ncharacter of _poetic licence_ [from v. 9 to 13] which unskilful writers\noften plead in defence of their transgressions against the law of\nUNITY. To v. 23 is considered and exposed that particular violation of\n_uniformity_, into which young poets especially, under the impulse of a\nwarm imagination, are apt to run, arising from frequent and ill-timed\ndescriptions. These, however beautiful in themselves, and with whatever\nmastery they may be executed, yet, if foreign to the subject, and\nincongruous to the place, where they stand, are extremely impertinent:\na caution, the more necessary, as the fault itself wears the appearance\nof a _virtue_, and so writers [from v. 23 to 25] come to transgress the\n_rule of right_ from their very ambition to observe it. There are two\ncases, in which this _ambition_ remarkably misleads us. The _first_\nis when it tempts us to push an _acknowledged beauty_ too far. Great\nbeauties are always in the confines of great faults; and therefore, by\naffecting superior excellence, we are easily carried into absurdity.\nThus [from v. 25 to 30] _brevity_ is often _obscurity_; _sublimity_,\n_bombast_; _caution_, _coolness_; and, to come round to the point, a\nfondness for _varying and diversifying a subject_, by means of episodes\nand descriptions, such as are mentioned above [v. 15] will often betray\na writer into that capital error of violating the _unity_ of his piece.\nFor, though variety be a real excellence under the conduct of true\njudgment, yet, when affected beyond the bounds of probability, and\nbrought in solely to _strike_ and _surprize_, it becomes unseasonable\nand absurd. The several episodes or descriptions, intended to give that\nvariety, may be inserted in improper places; and then the absurdity is\nas great, as that of the painter, who, according to the illustration of\nv. 19, 20, should introduce a cypress into a sea-piece, or, according\nto the illustration of the present verse, who paints a dolphin in a\nwood, or a boar in the sea.\n\n2. Another instance, in which we are misled by an _ambition of\nattaining to what is right_, is, when, through an excessive fear of\ncommitting faults, we disqualify ourselves for the just execution of a\n_whole_, or of such _particulars_, as are susceptible of real beauty.\nFor not the affectation of superior excellencies only, but even\n\n    _In vitium ducit_ culpae fuga, _si caret arte_.\n\nThis is aptly illustrated by the case of a sculptor. An over-scrupulous\ndiligence to finish single and trivial parts in a statue, which, when\nmost exact, are only not faulty, leaves him utterly incapable of doing\njustice to the more important members, and, above all, of designing and\ncompleting a _whole_ with any degree of perfection. But this latter\nis commonly the defect of a minute genius; who, having taken in hand\na design, which he is by no means able to execute, naturally applies\nhimself to labour and finish those parts, which he finds are within\nhis power. It is of consequence therefore [from v. 38 to 40] for every\nwriter to be well acquainted with the nature and extent of his own\ntalents: and to be careful to chuse a subject, which is, in all its\nparts, proportioned to his strength and ability. Besides, from such an\nattentive survey of his subject, and of his capacity to treat it, he\nwill also derive these further advantages [v. 41] 1. That he cannot be\nwanting in a proper fund of matter, wherewith to inlarge under every\nhead: nor, 2. can he fail, by such a well-weighed choice, to dispose of\nhis subject in the best and most convenient method. Especially, as to\nthe latter, which is the principal benefit, he will perceive [to v. 45]\nwhere it will be useful to preserve, and where to change, the natural\norder of his subject, as may best serve to answer the ends of poetry.\n\nThus far some general reflexions concerning _poetical distribution_;\nprincipally, as it may be affected by false notions, 1. Of _poetic\nlicence_ [v. 10] and, 2. Of _poetic perfection_ [v. 25]. But the same\ncauses will equally affect the _language_, as _method_, of poetry. To\nthese then are properly subjoined some directions about the _use of\nwords_. Now this particular depending so entirely on what is out of the\nreach of rule, as the fashion of the age, the taste of the writer, and\nhis knowledge of the language, in which he writes, the poet only gives\ndirections about _new words_: or, since every language is necessarily\nimperfect, about the _coining of such words_, as the writer\u2019s necessity\nor convenience may demand. And here, after having prescribed [l. 46]\na great _caution_ and _sparingness_ in the thing itself, he observes,\n1. [to l. 49] That where it ought to be done, the better and less\noffensive way will be, not to coin a _word_ entirely new (for this\nis ever a task of some envy) but, by means of an ingenious and happy\nposition of a well-known word, in respect of some others, to give it a\nnew air, and cast. Or, if it be necessary to _coin new words_, as it\nwill be in subjects of an abstruse nature, and especially such, as were\nnever before treated in the language, that then, 2. [to l. 54] this\nliberty is very allowable; but that the reception of them will be more\neasy, if we derive them gently, and without too much violence, from\ntheir proper source, that is, from a language, as the Greek, already\nknown, and approved. And, to obviate the prejudices of over-scrupulous\ncritics on this head, he goes on [from l. 54 to l. 73] in a vein of\npopular illustration, to alledge, in favour of this liberty, the\nexamples of antient writers, and the vague, unsteady nature of language\nitself.\n\nFrom these reflexions on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to\n_particulars_: the most obvious of which being the different _forms\nand measures_ of poetic composition, he considers, in this view [from\nv. 75 to 86] the four great species of poetry, to which all others may\nbe reduced, _the Epic_, _Elegiac_, _Dramatic_, and _Lyric_. But the\ndistinction of the _measures_ to be observed in the several species\nof poetry is so obvious, that there can scarcely be any mistake about\nthem. The difficulty is to know [from v. 86 to 89] how far, each may\npartake of the _spirit_ of other, without destroying that _natural\nand necessary difference_, which ought to subsist betwixt them all.\nTo explane this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from\nv. 89 to 99] the case of dramatic poetry; the two species of which\nare as distinct from each other, as any two can be, and yet there are\ntimes, when the features of the one will be allowed to resemble those\nof the other. For, 1. Comedy, in the passionate parts, will admit of\na tragic elevation: and, 2. Tragedy, in its soft distressful scenes,\ncondescends to the ease of familiar conversation. But the poet had a\nfurther view in chusing this instance. For he gets by this means into\nthe main of his subject, which was dramatic poetry, and, by the most\ndelicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from l. 89 to 323] to deliver\na series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, and enlivened\nby digressions, for the regulation and improvement of the ROMAN STAGE.\n\n\nPART II.\n\nDIRECTIONS FOR THE REGULATION AND IMPROVEMENT OF THE ROMAN STAGE.\n\nHaving fixed the distinct limits and provinces of the two species of\nthe drama, the poet enters directly on his subject, and considers, I.\n[from v. 99 to 119] the properties of the TRAGIC STYLE; which will\nbe different, 1. [to v. 111] according to the _internal state and\ncharacter_ of the speaker: thus one sort of expression will become the\n_angry_; another, the _sorrowful_; this, the _gay_, that, the _severe_.\nAnd, 2. [from v. 111 to 119] according to the outward circumstances of\n_rank_, _age_, _office_, or _country_.\n\nII. Next [to v. 179] he treats of the CHARACTERS, which are of two\nsorts. 1. _Old ones, revived_: and 2. _Invented, or new ones_. In\nrelation to the _first_ [from v. 119 to 125] the precept is, to _follow\nfame_; that is, to fashion the character according to the _received,\nstanding idea_, which tradition and elder times have consecrated; that\nidea being the sole test, whereby to judge of it. 2. In respect of the\n_latter_ [from v. 125 to 128] the great requisite is _uniformity_,\nor _consistency of representation_. But the formation of quite _new\ncharacters_ is a work of great difficulty and hazard. For here, there\nis no generally received and fixed _archetype_ to work after, but every\none judges, of common right, according to the extent and comprehension\nof his own idea. Therefore [to v. 136] he advises to labour and\nrefit _old characters and subjects_; particularly those, made known\nand authorized by the practice of Homer and the epic writers; and\ndirects, at the same time, by what means to avoid that _servility and\nunoriginal air_, so often charged upon such pieces. I said _characters\nand subjects_, for his method leading him to guard against servility\nof imitation in point of _characters_, the poet chose to dispatch the\nwhole affair of _servile imitation_ at once, and therefore [to v. 136]\nincludes _subjects_, as well as _characters_.\n\nBut this very advice, about taking the subjects and characters from\nthe epic poets, might be apt to lead into two faults, arising from\nthe ill conduct of those poets themselves. For, 1. [to v. 146] the\ndignity and importance of a subject, made sacred by antient fame,\nhad sometimes occasioned a boastful and ostentatious beginning, than\nwhich nothing can be more offensive. And, 2. The whole story being\ncomposed of great and striking particulars, injudicious writers, for\nfear of losing any part of it, which might serve to adorn their work,\nhad been led to follow the _round of plain historic order_, and so\nhad made the disposition of their piece _uninteresting and unartful_.\nNow both these improprieties, which appear so shocking in the _epic\npoem_, must needs, with still higher reason, deform the _tragic_. For,\ntaking its rise, not from the flattering views of the _poet_, but the\nreal situation of the _actor_, its opening must of necessity, be very\nsimple and unpretending. And being, from its short term of action,\nunable naturally to prepare and bring about many events, it, of course,\nconfines itself to _one_; as also for the sake of producing a due\n_distress_ in the plot; which can never be wrought up to any _trying_\npitch, unless the whole attention be made to fix on _one_ single\nobject. The way to avoid both these faults, will be to observe (for\nhere the imitation cannot be too close) the well-judged practice of\nHomer.\n\nHaving thus considered the affair of _imitation_, and shewn how _old\ncharacters_, and, to carry it still further, _old_ subjects, may be\nsuccessfully treated, he resumes the head of _characters_, and proceeds\nmore fully [from v. 153 to 179] to recommend it as a point of principal\nconcern in the drawing of them, to be well acquainted with the manners,\nagreeing to the several successive periods and stages of human life.\nAnd this with propriety: for, though he had given a hint to this\npurpose before,\n\n    _Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juvent\u00e2\n    Fervidus_,\n\nyet, as it is a point of singular importance, and a regard to _it_,\nbesides other distinctions, must be constantly had in the draught of\nevery character, it well deserved a separate consideration.\n\nIII. These instructions, which, in some degree, respect all kinds of\npoetry, being dismissed; he now delivers some rules more peculiarly\nrelative to the case of the _drama_. And, as the _misapplication of\nmanners_, which was the point he had been considering, was destructive\nof _probability_, this leads the poet, by a natural order, to censure\nsome other species of misconduct, which have the _same effect_. He\ndetermines then, 1. [from v. 179 to 189] The case of _representation_\nand _recital_: or what it is, which renders some things more fit to be\n_acted_ on the stage, others more fit to be _related_ on it. Next, 2.\nIn pursuance of the same point, _viz. probability_ [to v. 193] he\nrestrains the use of _machines_; and prescribes the number of _acts_,\nand of _persons_, to be introduced on the stage at the same time. And,\n3. lastly, the _persona dramatis_, just mentioned, suggesting it to\nhis thoughts, he takes occasion from thence to pass on to the _chorus_\n[from v. 193 to 202] whose double office it was, 1. To sustain the part\nof a _persona dramatis_ in the acts; and, 2. To connect the _acts_\nwith songs, persuading to good morals, and suitable to the subject.\nFurther, tragedy being, originally, nothing more than a _chorus_ or\nsong, set to music, from which practice the harmony of the regular\nchorus in aftertimes had its rise, he takes occasion to digress [from\nv. 202 to 220] in explaining the simplicity and barbarity of the\n_old_, and the refinements of the _later_, music. The application of\nthis account of the dramatic music to the case of the tragic chorus,\ntogether with a short glance at the other improvements of _numbers,\nstile, &c._ necessarily connected with it, gives him the opportunity\nof going off easily into a subject of near affinity with this, _viz._\nthe _Roman satiric piece_; which was indeed a species of tragedy, but\nof so extraordinary a composition, as to require a set of rules, and\ninstructions, peculiar to itself. A point, in which they agreed, but\nwhich was greatly misunderstood or ill-observed by his countrymen,\nwas the kind of verse or measure employed in them. This therefore,\nby a disposition of the most beautiful method, he reserves for a\nconsideration by itself, having, first of all, delivered such rules,\nas seemed necessary about those points, in which they essentially\ndiffered. He explains then [from v. 220 to 225] the _use and end_ of\nthe _satires_, shewing them to be designed for the exhilaration of the\nrustic youth, on their solemn festivities, after the exhibition of\nthe graver, tragic shews. But, 2. To convert, as far as was possible,\nwhat was thus a necessary sacrifice to the taste of the multitude into\na tolerable entertainment for the better sort, he lays down [from v.\n225 to 240] the exactest description or idea of this sort of poem; by\nmeans of which he instructs us in the due temperature and decorum of\nthe satyric style. 3. Lastly, [from v. 240 to 251] he directs to the\nchoice of proper subjects, and defines the just character of those\nprincipal and so uncommon _personages_ in this drama, the _satyrs_\nthemselves. This being premised, he considers, as was observed, what\nbelongs in common to this with the regular tragedy [from v. 251 to 275]\nthe laws and use of the _iambic_ foot; reproving, at the same time,\nthe indolence or ill-taste of the Roman writers in this respect, and\nsending them for instruction to the Grecian models.\n\nHaving introduced his critique on the _stage-music_, and _satyric\ndrama_, with some account of the rise and progress of _each_, the poet\nvery properly concludes this whole part [from v. 275 to 295] with a\nshort, incidental history of the principal improvements of the _Greek\ntragedy and comedy_; which was artfully contrived to insinuate the\ndefective state of the Roman drama, and to admonish his countrymen, how\nfar they had gone, and what yet remained to complete it. And hence with\nthe advantage of the easiest transition he slides into the last part of\nthe epistle; the design of which, as hath been observed, was to reprove\nan _incorrectness and want of care_ in the Roman writers. For, having\njust observed their _defect_, he goes on, in the remaining part of the\nepistle, to sum up the several causes, which seem to have produced it.\nAnd this gives him the opportunity, under every head, of prescribing\nthe proper remedy for each, and of inserting such further rules and\nprecepts for good writing, as could not so properly come in before. The\nwhole is managed with singular address, as will appear from looking\nover particulars.\n\n\nPART III.\n\nA CARE AND DILIGENCE IN WRITING RECOMMENDED.\n\nI. [from l. 295 to l. 323] The poet ridicules that false notion, into\nwhich the Romans had fallen, that _poetry_ and _possession_ were nearly\nthe same thing: that nothing more was required in a poet, than some\nextravagant starts and sallies of thought; that coolness and reflexion\nwere inconsistent with his character, and that poetry was not to be\nscanned by the rules of sober sense. This they carried so far, as to\naffect the outward port and air of madness, and, upon the strength of\nthat appearance, to set up for wits and poets. In opposition to this\nmistake, which was one great hindrance to critical correctness, he\nasserts _wisdom and good sense to be the source and principle of good\nwriting_: for the attainment of which he prescribes, 1. [from v. 310 to\n312] A careful study of the Socratic, that is, moral wisdom: and, 2.\n[from v. 312 to 318] A thorough acquaintance with human nature, _that\ngreat exemplar of manners_, as he finely calls it, or, in other words,\na wide extensive view of real, practical life. The joint direction\nof these two, as means of acquiring moral knowledge, was perfectly\nnecessary. For the former, when alone, is apt to grow abstracted and\nunaffecting: the latter, uninstructing and superficial. The philosopher\ntalks without experience, and the man of the world without principles.\nUnited they supply each other\u2019s defects; while the man of the world\nborrows so much of the philosopher, as to be able to adjust the several\nsentiments with precision and exactness; and the philosopher so much\nof the man of the world as to copy the manners of life (which we can\nonly do by experience) with truth and spirit. Both together furnish a\nthorough and complete comprehension of human life; which manifesting\nitself in the _just_, and _affecting_, forms that exquisite degree of\nperfection in the character of the dramatic poet; the want of which no\nwarmth of genius can atone for, or excuse. Nay such is the force of\nthis nice adjustment of _manners_ [from l. 319 to 323] that, where it\nhas remarkably prevailed, the success of a play hath sometimes been\nsecured by it, without one single excellence or recommendation besides.\n\nII. He shews [from l. 323 to 333] another cause of their incorrectness\nand want of success, in any degree, answering to that of the Greek\nwriters, to have been the low and illiberal education of the Roman\nyouth; who, while the Greeks were taught to open all their mind to\nglory, were cramped in their genius by the rust of gain, and, by the\nearly infusion of such sordid principles, became unable to project a\ngreat design, or with any care and mastery to complete it.\n\nIII. A third impediment to their success in poetry [from l. 333 to\n346] was their inattention to the _entire_ scope and purpose of it,\nwhile they contented themselves with the attainment of one only of\nthe two great ends, which are proposed by it. For the double design\nof poetry being to _instruct_ and _please_, the full aim and glory\nof the art cannot be attained without uniting them both: that is,\n_instructing_ so as to _please_, and _pleasing_ so as to _instruct_.\nUnder either head of _instruction_ and _entertainment_ the poet, with\ngreat address, insinuates the main art of each kind of writing, which\nconsists, 1. in _instructive_ or _didactic poetry_ [from v. 335 to 338]\nin the _conciseness of the precept_: and, 2. in works of _fancy_ and\n_entertainment_ [l. 338 to 341] in _probability of fiction_. But both\nthese [l. 341 to 347] must concur in a just piece.\n\nBut here the bad poet objects the difficulty of the terms, imposed\nupon him, and that, if the critic looked for all these requisites, and\nexacted them with rigour, it would be impossible to satisfy him: at\nleast it was more likely to discourage, than quicken, as he proposed,\nthe diligence of writers. To this the reply is [from l. 347 to 360]\nthat he was not so severe, as to exact a faultless and perfect piece:\nthat some inaccuracies and faults of less moment would escape the most\ncautious and guarded writer; and that, as he should contemn a piece,\nthat was generally bad, notwithstanding a few beauties, he could, on\nthe contrary, admire a work, that was generally good, notwithstanding a\nfew faults. Nay, he goes on [from l. 360 to 366] to observe in favour\nof writers, against their too rigorous censurers, that what were often\ncalled faults, were really not so: that some parts of a poem ought\nto be less _shining_, or less _finished_, than others; according to\nthe light, they were placed in, or the distance, from which they\nwere viewed; and that, serving only to connect and lead to others of\ngreater consequence, it was sufficient if they pleased once, or did not\ndisplease, provided that those others would please on every review. All\nthis is said agreeably to _nature_, which does not allow every part\nof a subject, to be equally susceptible of ornament; and to the _end\nof poetry_, which cannot so well be attained, without an inequality.\nThe allusions to painting, which the poet uses, give this truth the\nhappiest illustration.\n\nHaving thus made all the reasonable allowances, which a writer could\nexpect, he goes on to inforce the general instruction of this part,\n_viz. a diligence in writing_, by shewing [from l. 366 to 379] that\na _mediocrity_, however tolerable, or even commendable, it might be\nin other arts, would never be allowed in this: for which he assigns\nthis very obvious and just reason; that, as the main end of poetry\nis to _please_, if it did not reach that point (which it could not\ndo by stopping ever so little on this side excellence) it was, like\nindifferent music, indifferent perfumes, or any other indifferent\nthing, which we can do without, and whose end should be to please,\n_offensive and disagreeable_, and for want of being very good,\nabsolutely and insufferably bad. This reflexion leads him with great\nadvantage [from l. 379 to 391] to the general conclusion in view,\n_viz._ that as none but excellent poetry will be allowed, it should\nbe a warning to writers, how they engage in it without abilities;\nor publish without severe and frequent correction. But to stimulate\nthe poet, who, notwithstanding the allowances already made, might be\nsomething struck with this last reflexion, he flings out [from l. 391\nto 408] into a fine encomium, on the dignity and excellence of the art\nitself, by recounting its ancient honours. This encomium, besides its\ngreat usefulness in invigorating the mind of the poet, has this further\nview, to recommend and revive, together with its honours, the office of\nancient poesy; which was employed about the noblest and most important\nsubjects; the sacred source, from whence those honours were derived.\n\nFrom this transient view of the several species of poetry, terminating,\nas by a beautiful contrivance it is made to do, in the _Ode_, the\norder of his ideas carries him into some reflexions on the power of\ngenius (which so essentially belongs to the lyric Muse) and to settle\nthereby a point of criticism, much controverted among the ancients,\nand on which a very considerable stress would apparently be laid. For,\nif after all, so much art and care and caution be demanded in poetry,\nwhat becomes of genius, in which alone it had been thought to consist?\nwould the critic insinuate, that good poems can be the sole effect of\nart, and go so far, in opposition to the reigning prejudice, as to\nassert nature to be of no force at all? This objection, which would be\napt to occur to the general scope and tenor of the epistle, as having\nturned principally on _art_ and _rules_ without insisting much on\nnatural _energy_, the poet obviates at once [from v. 408 to 419] by\nreconciling two things which were held, it seems, incompatible, and\ndemanding in the poet, besides the fire of real genius, all the labour\nand discipline of art. But there is one thing still wanting. The poet\nmay be excellently formed by nature, and accomplished by art, but will\nhis own judgment be a sufficient guide, without assistance from others?\nwill not the partiality of an author for his own works sometimes\nprevail over the united force of rules and genius, unless he call in\na fairer and less interested guide? Doubtless it will: and therefore\nthe poet, with the utmost propriety, adds [from v. 419 to 450] as a\nnecessary part of this instructive monition to his brother poets, some\ndirections concerning the choice of a prudent and sincere friend,\nwhose unbiassed sense might at all times correct the prejudices,\nindiscretions, and oversights of the author. And to impress this\nnecessary care, with greater force, on the poet, he closes the whole\nwith shewing the dreadful consequences of being imposed upon in so nice\nan affair; representing, in all the strength of colouring, the picture\nof a bad poet, infatuated, to a degree of madness, by a fond conceit of\nhis own works, and exposed thereby (so important had been the service\nof timely advice) to the contempt and scorn of the public.\n\nAnd now, an unity of design in this epistle, and the pertinent\nconnection of its several parts being, it is presumed, from this method\nof illustration, clearly and indisputably shewn, what must we think\nof the celebrated FRENCH interpreter of Horace, who, after a studied\ntranslation of this piece, supported by a long, elaborate commentary,\nminutely condescending to scrutinize each part, could yet perceive so\nlittle of its true form and character, as to give it for his summary\njudgment, in conclusion; \u201c_Comme il_ [Horace] _ne travailloit pas \u00e0\ncela de suite et qu\u2019il ne gardoit d\u2019autre ordre que celui des matieres\nque le hazard lui donnoit \u00e0 lire et \u00e0 examiner, il est arriv\u00e9 del\u00e0 qu\u2019_\nIL N\u2019 Y A AUCUNE METHODE NI AUCUNE LIAISON DE PARTIES DANS CE TRAIT\u00c9,\n_qui m\u00eame n\u2019a jamais \u00e9t\u00e9 achev\u00e9, Horace n\u2019 ayant pas eu le tems d\u2019y\nmettre la derniere main, ou, ce qui est plus vraisemblable, n\u2019ayant\npas voulu s\u2019en donner la peine_.\u201d [M. Dacier\u2019s Introd. remarks to the\nart of poetry.] The softest thing that can be said of such a critic,\nis, that he well deserves the censure, he so justly applied to the\ngreat Scaliger, S\u2019IL L\u2019AVOIT BIEN ENTENDU, IL LUI AUROIT RENDU PLUS DE\nJUSTICE, ET EN AUROIT PARL\u00c9 PLUS MODESTEMENT.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\nON THE\n\nART OF POETRY.\n\n\nThe text of this epistle is given from Dr. BENTLEY\u2019S edition, except in\nsome few places, of which the reader is advertized in the notes. These,\nthat they might not break in too much on the thread of the Commentary,\nare here printed by themselves. For the rest, let me apologize with a\ngreat critic: _Nobis viri docti ignoscent, si h\u00e6c fusius: pr\u00e6sertim\nsi cogitent, veri critici esse, non literulam alibi ejicere, alibi\ninnocentem syllabam et qu\u00e6 nunqu\u00e0m male merita de patria fuerit, per\njocum et ludum trucidare et configere; ver\u00f9m recte de autoribus et\nrebus judicare, quod et solid\u00e6 et absolut\u00e6 eruditionis est._ HEINSIUS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n1. HUMANO CAPITI, &c.] It is seen, in the comment, with what elegance\nthis first part [to v. 89] is made preparatory to the main subject,\nagreeably to the genius of the Epistle. But elegance, in good hands,\nalways implies _propriety_; as is the case here. For the critic\u2019s\nrules must be taken either, 1. from the _general_ standing laws of\ncomposition; or, 2. from the peculiar ones, appropriated to the _kind_.\nNow the direction to be fetched from the former of these sources will\nof course _precede_, as well on account of its superior dignity, as\nthat the mind itself delights to descend from _universals_ to the\nconsideration of _particulars_. Agreeably to this rule of nature, the\npoet, having to correct, in the Roman drama, these three points, 1.\na misconduct in the disposition; 2. an abuse of language; and 3. a\ndisregard of the peculiar characters and _colorings_ of its different\nspecies, hath chosen to do this on principles of universal nature;\nwhich, while they include the case of the drama, at the same time\nextend to poetic composition at large. These prefatory, universal\nobservations being delivered, he then proceeds, with advantage, to the\n_second_ source of his art, viz. the consideration of the laws and\nrules peculiar to the _kind_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n9.\u2014ICTORIBUS ATQUE POETIS\u2014QUIDLIBET AUDENDI SEMPER FUIT AEQUA\nPOTESTAS.] The _modern_ painter and poet will observe that this\naphorism comes from the mouth of an objector.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n14. INCEPTIS GRAVIBUS, &c.] These preparatory observations concerning\nthe laws of poetic composition at large have been thought to glance\nmore _particularly_ at the epic poetry: Which was not improper: For, 1.\nThe _drama_, which he was about to criticize, had its rise and origin\nfrom the _epos_. Thus we are told by the great critic, that Homer was\nthe first who _invented dramatic imitations_, \u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2\u2014\u1f45\u03c4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5. And to the same purpose Plato: \u1f14\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd\n\u1f01\u03c0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03ac\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21\u03b3\u03b5\u03bc\u1f7c\u03bd \u03b3\u03b5\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\n[\u1f4d\u03bc\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2.] _De Rep._ l. x. Hence, as our noble critic observes, \u201cThere\nwas no more left for tragedy to do after him, than to erect a stage,\nand draw his dialogues and characters into scenes; turning in the same\nmanner upon one principal action or event, with regard to place and\ntime, which was suitable to a real spectacle.\u201d [_Characterist._ vol. i.\np. 198.] 2. The several censures, here pointed at the epic, would bear\nstill more directly against the tragic poem; it being more glaringly\ninconsistent with the genius of the _drama_ to admit of foreign and\ndigressive ornaments, than of the extended, episodical _epop\u0153ia_. For\nboth these reasons it was altogether pertinent to the poet\u2019s purpose,\nin a criticism on the _drama_, to expose the vicious practice of the\n_epic_ models. Though, to preserve the unity of his piece, and for the\nreason before given in note on v. 1. he hath artfully done this under\nthe cover of _general_ criticism.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n19. SED NUNC NON ERAT HIS LOCUS.] If one was to apply this observation\nto our dramatic writings, I know of none which would afford pleasanter\ninstances of the absurdity, here exposed, than the famous ORPHAN of\nOtway. Which, notwithstanding its real beauties, could hardly have\ntaken so prodigiously, as it hath done, on our stage, if there were not\nsomewhere a defect of _good taste_ as well as of _good morals_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n23. DENIQUE SIT QUIDVIS: SIMPLEX DUNTAXAT ET UNUM.] Is not it strange\nthat he, who delivered this rule in form, and, by his manner of\ndelivering it, appears to have laid the greatest stress upon it, should\nbe thought capable of paying no attention to it himself, in the conduct\nof this epistle?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n25-28. BREVIS ESSE LABORO, OBSCURUS FIO: SECTANTEM LENIA NERVI\nDEFICIUNT ANIMIQUE: PROFESSUS GRANDIA TURGET: SERPIT HUMI TUTUS NIMIUM\nTIMIDUSQUE PROCELLAE.] If these characters were to be exemplified in\nour own poets, of reputation, the _first_, I suppose, might be justly\napplied to Donne; the _second_, to Parnell; the _third_, to Thomson;\nand the _fourth_, to Addison. As to the two following lines;\n\n    _Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam,\n    Delphinum silvis adpingit, fluctibus aprum_:\n\nthey are applicable to so many of our poets, that, to keep the rest\nin countenance, I will but just mention Shakespear himself; who, to\nenrich his scene with that _variety_, which his exuberant genius so\nlargely supplied, hath deformed his best plays with these _prodigious_\nincongruities.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n29. QUI VARIARE CUPIT REM PRODIGIALITER UNAM, &c.] Though I agree with\nM. Dacier that _prodigialiter_ is here used in a good sense, yet the\nword is so happily chosen by our _curious speaker_ as to carry the\nmind to that fictitious monster, under which he had before allusively\nshadowed out the idea of absurd and inconsistent composition, in v. 1.\nThe application, however, differs in this, that, whereas the monster,\nthere painted, was intended to expose the extravagance of putting\ntogether _incongruous parts_, without any reference to a _whole_, this\n_prodigy_ is designed to characterize a _whole_, but deformed by the\nill-judged _position_ of its _parts_. The former is like a monster,\nwhose several members, as of right belonging to different animals,\ncould, by no disposition, be made to constitute _one_ consistent\nanimal. The other, like a landskip, which hath no objects absolutely\n_irrelative_, or irreducible to a _whole_, but which a wrong position\nof the _parts_ only renders _prodigious_. Send the _boar to the woods_;\nand the _dolphin to the waves_; and the painter might shew them both on\nthe same canvass.\n\nEach is a violation of the law of unity, and a real _monster_: the one,\nbecause it contains an assemblage of naturally _incoherent parts_;\nthe other, because its parts, though in themselves _coherent_, are\n_misplaced_, and disjointed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n34. INFELIX OPERIS SUMMA: QUIA PONERE TOTUM NESCIET.] This observation\nis more particularly applicable to _dramatic_ poetry, than to any\nother, an unity and integrity of action being of its very essence.\u2014The\npoet illustrates his observation very happily in the case of\n_statuary_; but it holds of every other art, that hath a _whole_ for\nits object. _Nicias_, the painter, used to say[10], \u201cThat the _subject_\nwas to him, what the fable is to the poet.\u201d Which is just the sentiment\nof _Horace_, reversed. For by the _subject_ is meant the whole of the\npainter\u2019s plan, the _totum_, which it will be impossible for those to\nexpress, who lay out their pains so solicitously in finishing single\nparts. Thus, to take an obvious example, the landskip-painter is to\ndraw together, and form into _one_ entire view, certain beautiful,\nor striking objects. This is his main care. It is not even essential\nto the merit of his piece, to labour, with extreme exactness, the\n_principal_ constituent parts. But for the rest, a _shrub_ or _flower_,\na straggling _goat_ or _sheep_, these may be touched very negligently.\nWe have a great modern instance. Few painters have obliged us with\n_finer_ scenes, or have possessed the art of combining _woods_,\n_lakes_, and _rocks_, into more agreeable pictures, than G. POUSSIN:\nYet his _animals_ are observed to be scarce worthy an ordinary artist.\nThe use of these is _simply_ to decorate the scene; and so their beauty\ndepends, not on the truth and correctness of the _drawing_, but on\nthe elegance of their _disposition_ only. For, in a landskip, the eye\ncarelessly glances over the smaller parts, and regards them only in\nreference to the surrounding objects. The painter\u2019s labour therefore\nis lost, or rather misemployed, to the prejudice of the _whole_, when\nit strives to finish, so minutely, _particular_ objects. If some great\nmasters have shewn themselves ambitious of this fame, the objects,\nthey have laboured, have been always such, as are most considerable in\nthemselves, and have, besides, an _effect_ in illustrating and setting\noff the entire scenery. It is chiefly in this view, that Ruisdale\u2019s\n_waters_, and Claude Lorain\u2019s _skies_ are so admirable.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n40.\u2014CUI LECTA POTENTER ERIT RES.] _Potenter_ i. e. \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u1f70 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd,\n_Lambin_: which gives a pertinent sense, but without justifying the\nexpression. The learned editor of Statius proposes to read _pudenter_,\na word used by Horace on other occasions, and which suits the meaning\nof the place, as well. A similar passage in the epistle to Augustus\nadds some weight to this conjecture;\n\n                                _nec meus audet_\n    REM _tentare_ PUDOR, _quam vires ferre recusent_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n45. HOC AMET, HOC SPERNAT, PROMISSI CARMINIS AUCTOR\u2014IN VERBIS ETIAM\nTENUIS CAUTUSQUE SERENDIS.] Dr. Bentley hath inverted the order of\nthese two lines; not merely, as I conceive, without sufficient reason,\nbut in prejudice also to the scope and tenor of the poet\u2019s sense; in\nwhich case only I allow myself to depart from his text. The whole\nprecept, on poetical distribution, is delivered, as of importance:\n\n    [_Ordinis haec virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor_.]\n\nAnd such indeed it is: for, 1. It respects no less than the\nconstitution of a _whole_, i. e. the reduction of a subject into one\nentire, consistent plan, the most momentous and difficult of all the\noffices of _invention_, and which is more immediately addressed, in the\nhigh and sublime sense of the word, to the POET. 2. \u2019Tis no trivial\n_whole_, which the Precept had in view, but, as the context shews, and\nas is further apparent from v. 150, where this topic is resumed and\ntreated more at large, the _epos_ and the _drama_: With what propriety\nthen is a rule of such dignity inforced by that strong emphatic\nconclusion,\n\n    _Hoc amet, hoc spernat, promissi carminis auctor_:\n\n_i. e._ \u201cBe this rule held sacred and inviolate by him, who hath\nprojected and engaged in a work, deserving the appellation of a poem.\u201d\nWere the subject only the choice or invention of _words_, the solemnity\nof such an application must be ridiculous.\n\nAs for the construction, the commonest reader can find himself at no\nloss to defend it against the force of the Doctor\u2019s objections.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n46. IN VERBIS ETIAM TENUIS, &c.] I have said, that these preparatory\nobservations concerning an _unity_ of design, the _abuse of language_,\nand the different _colourings_ of the several species of poetry,\nwhilst they extend to poetic composition at _large_, more particularly\nrespect the case of the _drama_. The _first_ of these articles has been\nillustrated in note on v. 34. The _last_ will be considered in note v.\n73. I will here shew the same of the _second_, concerning the _abuse\nof words_. For 1. the style of the drama representing real life, and\ndemanding, on that account, a peculiar ease and familiarity in the\nlanguage, the practice of coining _new_ words must be more insufferable\nin _this_, than in any other species of poetry. The majesty of the epic\nwill even sometimes require to be supported by this means, when the\ncommonest ear would resent it, as downright affectation upon the stage.\nHence the peculiar propriety of this rule to the dramatic writer,\n\n    _In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis_.\n\n2. Next, it is necessary to keep the tragic style, though\ncondescending, in some sort, to the familiar cast of conversation,\nfrom sinking beneath the dignity of the personages, and the solemnity\nof the representation. Now no expedient can more happily effect\nthis, than what the poet prescribes concerning the _position_ and\n_derivation_ of words. For thus, the language, without incurring the\nodium of absolutely _invented_ terms, sustains itself in a becoming\nstateliness and reserve, and, whilst it seems to stoop to the level\nof conversation, artfully eludes the meanness of a trite, prosaic\nstyle.\u2014There are wonderful instances of this management in the _Samson\nAgonistes_ of Milton; the most artificial and highly finished, though\nfor that reason, perhaps, the least popular and most neglected, of all\nthe great poet\u2019s works.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n47. DIXERIS EGREGIE, NOTUM SI CALLIDA VERBUM REDDIDERIT JUNCTURA\nNOVUM.\u2014] This direction, about _disposing_ of old words in such a\nmanner as that they shall have the grace of _new_ ones, is among the\nfinest in the whole poem. And because Shakespear is he, of all our\npoets, who has most successfully practised this secret, it may not be\namiss to illustrate the precept before us by examples taken from his\nwritings.\n\nBut first it will be proper to explain the _precept_ itself as given by\nHorace.\n\nHis critics seem not at all to have apprehended the force of it. Dacier\nand Sanadon, the two best of them, confine it merely to the formation\nof _compound words_; which, though _one_ way in which this _callida\njunctura_ shews itself, is by no means the whole of what the poet\nintended by it.\n\nTheir mistake arose from interpreting the word _junctura_ too strictly.\nThey suppose it to mean only the _putting together two words into one_;\nthis being the most obvious idea we have of the _joining_ of words.\nAs if the most _literal_ construction of terms, according to their\netymology, were always the most proper.\n\nBut Mr. Dacier has a reason of his own for confining the precept to\nthis meaning. \u201cThe question, he says, is _de verbis serendis_; and\ntherefore this _junctura_ must be explained of _new_ words, properly so\ncalled, as compound epithets are; and not of the grace of novelty which\nsingle words seem to acquire from the art of disposing of them.\u201d\n\nBy which we understand, that the learned critic did not perceive the\nscope of his author; which was manifestly this. \u201cThe invention of new\nterms, says he, being a matter of much nicety, I had rather you would\ncontrive to employ known words in such a way as to give them the effect\nof new ones. \u2019Tis true, new words may sometimes be necessary: And if\nso,\u201d &c. Whence we see that the line,\n\n    _In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis_\n\nis not given here in form as the _general rule_, and the following\nline as the _example_. On the other hand, the rule is just mentioned\ncarelessly and in passing, while the poet is hastening to another\nconsideration of more importance, and which he even _opposes_ to the\nformer. \u201cInstead of making new words, you will do well to confine\nyourself merely to old ones.\u201d Whatever then be the meaning of\n_junctura_, it is clear we are not to explain it of such words as\nexemplify the rule _de verbis serendis_.\n\nBut _junctura_ will best be interpreted by the _usage_ of Horace\ntogether with the _context_; 1. The word occurs only once more in this\npoet, and that in this very Epistle. It is where he advises a conduct\nwith regard to the _subject-matter_ of a poem, analogous to this\nconcerning the _language_ of it.\n\n    _Ex noto fictum carmen sequar\u2014\n    \u2014\u2014tantum series juncturaque pollet._ v. 242.\n\nDoes he mean _the joining two subjects together_ and combining them\ninto _one_, so as that the _compound_ subject shall be a _new_ one? No\nsuch thing; \u201cThe subject, says he, shall be a _known_, an old one. Yet\nthe _order, management, and contrivance_ shall be such as to give it\nthe air of an original fiction.\u201d Apply now this sense of _junctura_ to\nwords, and we are only told, that expression may be so _ordered_ as to\nappear new, when the words, of which it is made up, are all known and\ncommon.\n\nWe have then the authority of the poet himself against the opinion\nof the French critic. But we have also the authority of his great\nimitator, or rather interpreter, Persius; who speaking of the language\nof his satires says, in allusion to this passage of Horace,\n\n    \u201c_Verba tog\u00e6 sequeris_, junctur\u00e2 callidus _acri_.\n                                            S. v. 14.\n\ni. e. he took up with words of common and familiar use, but contrived\nto bring them into his style in such a manner as to give them the\nforce, spirit, and energy of satiric expression.\u201d\n\n2. Again: the context, as I observed, leads us to this meaning. The\npoet in v. 42. had been giving his opinion of the nature and effect\nof _method_, or orderly disposition in the conduct of a _fable_.\nThe course of his ideas carries him to apply the observation to\n_words_; which he immediately does, only interposing v. 46. by way of\nintroduction to it.\n\nOn the whole then _junctura_ is a word of large and general import, and\nthe same in _expression_, as _order or disposition_, in a _subject_.\nThe poet would say, \u201cInstead of framing new words, I recommend to you\n_any_ kind of artful management by which you may be able to give a new\nair and cast to old ones.\u201d\n\nHaving now got at the true meaning of the precept, let us see how well\nit may be exemplified in the practice of Shakespear.\n\n\n1. The first example of this _artful management_, if it were only\nin complaisance to former commentators, shall be that of _compound\nepithets_; of which sort are,\n\n  _High-sighted Tyranny_       J. C. A. II. S. 2.\n  _A barren-spirited fellow_         A. IV. S. 1.\n  _An arm-gaunt steed_          A. C. A. I. S. 6.\n  _Flower-soft hands_                A. II. S. 3.\n  _Lazy-pacing clouds_         R. J. A. II. S. 2.\n\nand a thousand instances more in this poet. But this is a small part of\nhis _craft_, as may be seen by what follows. For this end is attained,\n\n\n2. _By another form of composition_; by compound _verbs_ as well as\ncompound _adjectives_.\n\n\nTo _candy_ and _limn_ are known words. The poet would express the\ncontrary ideas, and he does it happily, by compounding them with our\nEnglish negative _dis_,\n\n                              \u2014\u2014\u201cThe hearts\n    That pantler\u2019d me at heels, to whom I gave\n    Their wishes, do _discandy_, melt their sweets\n    On blossoming C\u00e6sar\u2014\n                                A. C. A. IV. S. 9.\n\n    \u201cThat which is now a horse, ev\u2019n with a thought\n    The rack _dislimns_, and makes it indistinct\n    As water is in water\u2014\n                                A. C. A. IV. S. 10.\n\nThough here we may observe, that for the readier acceptation of these\ncompounds, he artfully subjoins the explanation.\n\n\n3. By a liberty he takes of converting _substantives_ into _verbs_;\n\n    A glass that _featur\u2019d_ them.\n                                Cymb. A. I. S. 1.\n\n                \u2014\u2014Simon\u2019s weeping\n    Did _scandal_ many a holy tear\u2014\n                                     A. III. S. 4.\n\n    Great griefs, I see, _medicine_ the less.\n                                       A. IV. S. 5.\n\n                          \u2014\u2014that kiss\n    I carried from thee, Dear; and my true lip\n    Hath _virgin\u2019d_ it e\u2019er since\u2014\n                                   Cor. A. V. S. 3.\n\n    Or _verbs_ into _substantives_;\n\n                      \u2014\u2014Then began\n    A stop i\u2019 th\u2019 chaser, a _Retire_\u2014\n                                  Cymb. A. V. S. 2.\n\n                            \u2014\u2014take\n    No stricter _render_ of me\u2014\n                                        A. V. S. 3.\n\n                      \u2014\u2014handkerchief\n    Still waving, as the fits and _stirs_ of\u2019s mind\n    Could best express\u2014\n                                   Cymb. A. I. S. 5.\n\n            \u2014\u2014Sextus Pompeius\n    Hath giv\u2019n the _dare_ to C\u00e6sar\u2014\n                                   A. C. A. I. S. 3.\n\n\n4. By using _active_ verbs neutrally,\n\n          \u2014\u2014He hath fought to-day\n    As if a god in hate of mankind had\n    _Destroy\u2019d_, in such a shape\u2014\n                                A. C. A. IV. S. 6.\n\n    It is the bloody business, that _informs_\n    Thus to mine eyes\u2014\n                                 Macb. A. II. S. 2.\n\nAnd _neutral_ verbs actively,\n\n                              \u2014\u2014never man\n    Sigh\u2019d truer breath; but that I see thee here,\n    Thou noble thing! more _dances_ my rapt heart\n    Than when I first my wedded mistress saw\n    Bestride my threshold\u2014\n                                   Cor. A. IV. S. 4.\n\n                \u2014\u2014like smiling Cupids,\n    With divers-colour\u2019d fans, whose wind did seem\n    To _glow_ the delicate cheeks which they did cool\u2014\n                                   A. C. A. II. S. 3.\n\n\n5. By converting _Adjectives_ into Substantives.\n\n                            \u2014\u2014I do not think\n    So fair an _outward_ and such stuff within\n    Endows a man but him\u2014\n                                     Cymb. A. I. S. 1.\n\n\n6. By converting _Participles_ into Substantives.\n\n    He would have well become this place, and grac\u2019d\n    The _thankings_ of a King\u2014\n                                      Cymb. A. V. S. 5.\n\n    The herbs, that have in them cold dew o\u2019 th\u2019 night,\n    Are _strewings_ fitt\u2019st for Graves\u2014\n                                           A. IV. S. 5.\n\n                  \u2014\u2014\u201cThen was I as a tree\n    Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night,\n    A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,\n    Shook down my mellow _hangings_\u2014\u2014\n                                     Cymb. A. III. S. 3.\n\n                    \u2014\u2014Comes in my father,\n    And like the tyrannous _breathing_ of the North\n    Shakes all our Buds from blowing\u2014\u2014\n                                       Cymb. A. I. S. 5.\n\nWhich last instance I the rather give for the sake of proposing an\nemendation, which I think restores this fine passage to its Integrity.\nBefore the late edition of Shakespear it stood thus,\n\n    And like the tyrannous breathing of the North\n    Shakes all our Buds from _growing_\u2014\n\nBut the sagacious Editor saw that this reading was corrupt, and\ntherefore altered the last word, _growing_, for unanswerable reasons,\ninto _blowing_. See Mr. W\u2019s note upon the place. This slight change\ngives propriety and beauty to the passage, which before had no sort of\nmeaning. Yet still all is not quite right. For, as the great Critic\nhimself observes, \u201c_Breathing_ is not a very proper word to express\nthe rage and bluster of the north wind.\u201d Besides, one does not see how\nthe _shaking_ of these Buds is properly assign\u2019d as the cause of their\nnot blowing. The wind might shake off the _blossoms_ of a fruit tree,\ni. e. the Buds when they were _full-blown_; but so long as the blossom\nlies folded up in the Bud, it seems secure from shaking. At least the\n_shaking_ is not the _immediate_ cause of the effect, spoken of; it is\nsimply the _cold_ of the north-wind that closes the Bud and keeps it\nfrom _blowing_. I am therefore tempted to propose another alteration of\nthe text, and to read thus,\n\n    And like the tyrannous Breathing of the North\n    _Shuts_ all our Buds from blowing\u2014\n\nIf this correction be allowed, every thing is perfectly right. It is\nproperly the _breathing_, the cold breath of the North, that shuts up\nthe Buds when they are on the point of blowing. Whence the epithet\n_tyrannous_ will be understood not as implying the idea of _blust\u2019ring_\n(an idea indeed necessary if we retain the word _shakes_) but simply\nof _cruel_, the _tyranny_ of this wind consisting in imprisoning\nthe flower in its Bud and denying it the liberty of coming out into\n_Blossom_. The application too of this comparison, which required the\nchange of _growing_ into _blowing_, seems also to require the present\nalteration of _shakes_. For there was no manner of violence in _the\nfather\u2019s_ coming in upon the lovers. All the effect was, that his\npresence _restrained_ them from that interchange of tender words, which\nwas going to take place between them.\n\nThus far I had written in the last edition of these notes, and I,\nnow, see no cause to doubt the _general_ truth and propriety of\nthis emendation. Only it occurs to me that, instead of SHUTS, the\npoet\u2019s own word might, perhaps, be CHECKS; as not only being more\nlike in _sound_ to the word _shakes_, but as coming nearer to the\n_traces_ of the Letters. Besides, CHECKS gives the precise idea we\nshould naturally look for, whether we regard the integrity of the\n_figure_\u2014_tyrannous_\u2014_checks_\u2014, or the _thing_ illustrated by it,\nviz. the abrupt coming in of the father, which was properly a _check_\nupon the lovers. Lastly, the expression is mended by this reading; for\nthough we may be allowed to say _shuts from blowing_, yet _checks from\nblowing_, is easier and better English.\n\n\nBut to return to other Instances of the Poet\u2019s artifice in the\nmanagement of _known_ words. An apparent Novelty is sometimes effected\n\n\n7. By turning _Participles_ into Adverbs\u2014\n\n                    \u2014\u2014_tremblingly_ she stood\n    And on the sudden dropt\u2014\n                                    A. C. A. V. S. 5.\n\n(One remembers the fine use Mr. Pope has made of this word in,\n\n    Or touch, if _tremblingly_ alive all o\u2019er\u2014)\n\n                  \u2014\u2014But his flaw\u2019d heart,\n    Alack, too weak the conflict to support,\n    \u2019Twixt two extremes of Passion, joy and grief,\n    Burst _smilingly_\u2014\n                            Lear, A. V. S. 8.\n\n\n8. By _figurative terms_; i. e. by such terms as though common in the\n_plain_, are unusual in the figurative application.\n\n                      \u2014\u2014This common Body\n    Like to a vagabond flag, upon the stream,\n    Goes to, and back, _lacquying_ the varying tide.\n                                A. C. A. I. S. 5.\n\n    \u2014\u2014When snow the Pasture _sheets_.\n                                                       ib.\n\nTo this head may be referred those innumerable terms in Shakespear\nwhich surprize us by their novelty; and which surprize us generally, on\naccount of his preferring the _specific_ idea to the _general_ in the\n_subjects_ of his Metaphors and the _circumstances_ of his Description;\nan excellence in poetical expression which cannot be sufficiently\nstudied. The examples are too frequent, and the thing itself too well\nunderstood, to make it necessary to enlarge on this article.\n\n\n9. By _plain words_, i. e. such as are common in the figurative,\nuncommon in the literal acceptation.\n\n    _Disasters_ vail\u2019d the Sun\u2014\n                                Ham. A. I. S. 1.\n\nSee the note on the place.\n\n    Th\u2019 _extravagant_ and erring spirit hies\n    To his confine\u2014\n                                                      ib.\n\n                \u2014\u2014Can\u2019t such things be\n    And _overcome_ us, like a Summer\u2019s cloud,\n    Without our special wonder?\u2014\n                               Macb. A. III. S. 5.\n\n\n10. By _transposition of words_\u2014_unauthoriz\u2019d use of terms_\u2014_and\nungrammatical construction_. Instances in all his plays, _passim_.\n\n\n11. By _foreign idioms_. \u2019Tis true these are not frequent in\nShakespear. Yet some Latinisms and e\u2019en Grecisms we have. As\n\n    _Quenched of hope_\u2014\n                                  Cymb. A. V. S. 5.\n\nAnd the like. But, which is more remarkable and served his purpose\njust as well, the writers of that time had so _latiniz\u2019d_ the English\nlanguage; that the pure _English_ Idiom, which Shakespear generally\nfollows, has all the air of _novelty_ which other writers are used to\naffect by a foreign phraseology.\n\nThe Reader sees, it were easy to extend this list of Shakespear\u2019s arts\nin the _Callida junctura_ much farther. But I intended only a specimen\nof them; so much as might serve to illustrate the rule of Horace.\n\nIt is enough, that we have now a perfect apprehension of what is meant\nby CALLIDA JUNCTURA; And that it is, in effect, but another word for\n_Licentious Expression_: The use of which is, as Quintilian well\nexpresses it, \u201c_Ut quotidiani et semper eodem modo formati sermonis\nFastidium levet, et nos \u00e0 vulgari dicendi genere defendat_.\u201d In short,\nthe articles, here enumerated, are but so many ways of departing from\nthe usual and simpler forms of speech, without neglecting too much the\ngrace of ease and perspicuity; In which well-tempered licence one\nof the greatest charms of all poetry, but especially of Shakespear\u2019s\npoetry, consists. Not that He was always and every where so happy, as\nin the instances given above. His expression sometimes, and by the very\nmeans, here exemplified, becomes _hard_, _obscure_, and _unnatural_.\nThis is the extreme on the other side. But in general, we may say, that\nHe hath either followed the direction of Horace very ably, or hath hit\nupon his Rule very happily.\n\nWe are not perhaps to expect the same ability, or good fortune from\nothers. _Novelty_ is a charm which nothing can excuse the want of, in\nworks of entertainment. And the necessity of preventing the tedium\narising from _hacknied expression_ is so instant, that those, who are\nneither capable of prescribing to themselves this Rule of the _callida\nJunctura_, or of following it when prescribed by others, are yet\ninclined to ape it by some spurious contrivance; which being slight\nin itself will soon become liable to excess, and ridiculous by its\nabsurdity. I have a remarkable instance in view, with which the reader\nwill not be displeased that I conclude this long note.\n\nAbout the middle of the 17th century one of the most common of these\nmimic efforts was the endless multiplication of _Epithets_; which soon\nmade their poetry at once both stiff and nerveless. When frequent and\nexcessive use had made this expedient ridiculous as well as cheap, they\ntried another, it\u2019s very opposite _the rejection of all Epithets_,\nand so of languid poetry, made rigid Prose. This too had it\u2019s day. A\ndramatic Poet of that time has exposed these opposite follies with much\nhumour. A character of sense and pleasantry is made to interrogate a\nPoetaster in the following manner.\n\n    GOLDSWORTH.\n\n    Master CAPERWIT, before you read, pray tell me,\n    Have your verses any ADJECTIVES?\n\n    CAPERWIT.\n\n    Adjectives! Would you have a poem without\n    Adjectives? They are the flow\u2019rs, the grace of all our language;\n    A well-chosen Epithete doth give new Soule\n    To fainting Poesie; and makes everye verse\n    A Bribe. With Adjectives we baite our lines,\n    When we do fish for Gentlewomen\u2019s loves,\n    And with their sweetness catch the nibbling ear\n    Of amorous Ladies: With the music of\n    These ravishing Nouns, we charm the silken tribe,\n    And make the Gallant melt with apprehension\n    Of the rare word: I will maintain \u2019t (against\n    A bundle of Grammarians) in Poetry\n    The Substantive itself cannot subsist\n    Without an Adjective.\n\n    GOLDSWORTH.\n\n                          But for all that,\n    These words would sound more full, methinks, that are not\n    So larded; and, if I might counsel you,\n    You should compose a Sonnet, cleane without them.\n    A row of stately SUBSTANTIVES would march,\n    Like Switzers, and bear all the field before them;\n    Carry their weight, shew fair, like DEEDS enroll\u2019d;\n    Not WRITS, that are first made, and after fill\u2019d:\n    Thence first came up the title of BLANK verse.\n    You know, Sir, what _Blank_ signifies? When the Sense\n    First fram\u2019d, is tied with Adjectives, like Points,\n    And could not hold together, without wedges.\n    Hang \u2019t, \u2019tis Pedanticke, vulgar Poetry.\n    Let children, when they versifye, sticke here\n    And there these pidling words, for want of matter;\n    POETS write masculine numbers.\n\n    CAPERWIT.\n\n    You have given me a pretty hint: \u2019Tis NEW.\n    I will bestow these verses on my footman;\n    They\u2019ll serve a Chambermaid\u2014\n          SHIRLEY\u2019S _Chances, or Love in a Maze_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n54. C\u00c6CILIO PLAUTOQUE DABIT ROMANUS, ADEMPTUM VIRGILIO VARIOQUE?]\nThe question is but reasonable. Yet the answer will not be to the\nsatisfaction of him that puts it. This humour, we may observe, holds\nhere in England, as it did formerly at Rome; and will, I suppose, hold\nevery-where, under the same circumstances. C\u00e6cilius and Plautus were\nallowed to _coin_, but not Virgil and Varius. The same indulgence our\nauthors had at the restoration of letters; but it is denied to our\npresent writers. The reason is plainly this. While arts are refining\nor reviving, the greater part are forced, and _all_ are content to be\n_Learners_. When they are grown to their usual height, all affect to be\n_Teachers_. With this affectation, a certain envy, as the poet observes,\n\n            \u2014\u2014_cur adquirere pauca,\n    Si possum_, invideor\u2014\n\ninsinuates itself; which is for restraining the privileges of writers,\nto all of whom every reader is now become a Rival. Whereas men, under\nthe first character of _Learners_, are glad to encourage every thing\nthat makes for their instruction.\n\nBut whatever offence may be taken at this practice, good writers, as\nthey safely may, should _dare_ to venture upon it. A perfect language\nis a chim\u00e6ra. In every state of it there will frequently be occasion,\nsometimes a necessity, to hazard a _new_ word. And let not a great\ngenius be discouraged, by the fastidious delicacy of his age, from a\nsober use of this privilege. Let him, as the poet directs,\n\n    Command _old_ words, that long have slept, to wake,\n    Words, that wise BACON, or brave RALEGH spake;\n    Or bid the _new_ be English ages hence,\n    For USE will father what\u2019s begot by SENSE.\n\nThis too was the constant language of ancient criticism. \u201cAudendum\ntamen; namque, ut ait Cicero, etiam qu\u00e6 prim\u00f2 dura visa sunt, usu\nmolliuntur,\u201d _Quintil._ l. i. c. v.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n70. MULTA RENASCENTUR, QUAE JAM CECIDERE.] This _revival_ of _old_\nwords is one of those _niceties_ in composition, not to be attempted\nby any but great masters. It may be done two ways, 1. by restoring\nsuch terms, as are grown entirely obsolete; or, 2. by selecting out\nof those, which have still a currency, and are not quite laid aside,\nsuch as are most forcible and expressive. For so I understand a passage\nin Cicero, who urges this double use of old words, as an argument,\nto his orator, for the diligent study of the old Latin writers. His\nwords are these: _Loquendi elegantia, quamquam expolitur scienti\u00e2\nliterarum, tamen augetur legendis oratoribus [veteribus] et poetis:\nsunt enim illi veteres, qui ornare nondum poterant ea, quae dicebant,\nomnes prope pr\u00e6clare locuti\u2014Neque tamen erit utendum verbis iis, quibus\njam consuetudo nostra non utitur, nisi quando ornandi caus\u00e2, parc\u00e8,\nquod ostendam; sed usitatis ita poterit uti, lectissimis ut utatur\nis, qui in veteribus erit scriptis studios\u00e8 et multum volutatus._ [De\nOrat. l. iii. c. x.] These _choice_ words amongst such as are still\nin _use_, I take to be those which are employed by the old writers in\nsome peculiarly strong and energetic sense, yet so as with advantage\nto be copied by the moderns, without appearing barbarous or affected.\n[See HOR. lib. ii. ep. ii. v. 115.] And the reason, by the way, of\nour finding such words in the old writers of every language, may be\nthis. When ideas are new to us, they strike us most forcibly; and we\nendeavour to express, not our _sense_ only, but our _sensations_,\nin the terms we use to explain them. The passion of wonder, which\nPhilosophy would cure us of, is of singular use in raising the\nconception, and strengthening the expression of poets. And such is\nalways the condition of old writers, when the arts are reviving, or\nbut beginning to refine. The other use of old terms, _i. e._ when\nbecome _obsolete_, he says, must be made _parc\u00e8_, more sparingly. The\ncontrary would, in oratory, be insufferable affectation. The rule holds\nin poetry, but with greater latitude; for, as he observes in another\nplace, and the reason of the thing speaks, _h\u00e6c sunt Poetarum licenti\u00e6\nliberiora_. [De Or. iii. 38.] But the elegance of the style, we are\ntold, is increased both ways. The reason is, according to Quinctilian\n(who was perfectly of Cicero\u2019s mind in this matter. See l. x. c. i.)\n_Verba \u00e0 vetustate repetita afferunt orationi majestatem aliquam non\nsine delectatione; nam et auctoritatem antiquitatis habent; et, quia\nintermissa sunt, gratiam novitati similem parant._ [Lib. i. c. vi.\nsub fin.] But this is not all: The riches of a language are actually\nincreased by retaining its old words; and besides, they have often\na greater real weight and dignity, than those of a more fashionable\ncast, which succeed to them. This needs no proof to such as are versed\nin the earlier writings in _any_ language. A very capable judge hath\nobserved it in regard of the most admired _modern_ one: _Nous avons\ntellement laiss\u00e9 ce qui \u00e9toit au viel fran\u00e7ois, que nous avons\nlaiss\u00e9 quant et quant la plus part de ce qu\u2019il avoit de bon._ [Trait.\npr\u00e9paratif \u00e0 l\u2019 Apol. pour Herod. l. i. c. xxviii.] Or, if the reader\nrequires a more decisive testimony, let him take it in the words of\nthat curious speaker, Fenelon. _N\u00f4tre langue manque d\u2019un grand nombre\nde mots et de phrases. Il me semble m\u00eame qu\u2019on l\u2019a gen\u00e9e et appauvrie\ndepuis environ cent ans en voulant la purifier. Il est vrai qu\u2019elle\n\u00e9toit encore un peu informe et trop verbeuse. Mais le vieux language\nse fait regretter, quand nous le retrouvons dans_ MAROT, _dans_ AMIOT,\n_dans le Cardinal d\u2019_OSSAT, _dans les ouvrages les plus enjoues, et\ndans les plus serieux. Il y avoit je ne scai quoi de court, de n\u00e4if,\nde vif et de passion\u00e9._ [Reflex. sur la Rhetorique, Amst. 1733. p. 4.]\nFrom these testimonies we learn the extreme value, which these masters\nof composition set upon their old writers; and as the reason of the\nthing justifies their opinions, we may further see the important use of\nsome late attempts to restore a better knowledge of our _own_. Which I\nobserve with pleasure, as the growing prevalency of a very different\nhumour, first catched, as it should seem, from our commerce with the\nFrench models, and countenanced by the too scrupulous delicacy of\nsome good writers amongst ourselves, had gone far towards unnerving\nthe noblest modern language, and effeminating the public taste. This\nwas not a little forwarded by, what generally makes its appearance at\nthe same time, a kind of feminine curiosity in the choice of words;\ncautiously avoiding and reprobating all such (which were not seldom\nthe most expressive) as had been prophaned by a too vulgar use, or\nhad suffered the touch of some other accidental taint. This ran us\ninto periphrases and general expression; the peculiar bane of every\npolished language. Whereas the rhetorician\u2019s judgment here again\nshould direct us: _Omnia verba (exceptis paucis parum verecundis) sunt\nalicubi optima; nam et humilibus interim et vulgaribus est opus, et qu\u00e6\ncultiore in parte videntur sordida, ubi res poscit, propri\u00e8 dicuntur_.\nWhich seems borrowed from Dionysius of Halicarnassus [\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3. \u00a7\nxii.] \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f55\u03c4\u03c9 \u03c4\u03b1\u03c0\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd, \u1f22 \u1fe5\u03c5\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd, \u1f22 \u03bc\u03b9\u03b1\u03c1\u1f78\u03bd, \u1f22 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70 \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c7\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\n\u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c3\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03af \u03c6\u03b7\u03bc\u03b9 \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03cc\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, \u1fa7 \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03af \u03c4\u03b9 \u03c3\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1 \u1f22 \u03c0\u03c1\u1fb6\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1, \u1f43\n\u03bc\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f15\u03be\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c7\u1ff6\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03bd \u1f10\u03bd \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2. However those two causes,\n\u201cThe rejection of old words, as barbarous, and of many modern ones, as\nunpolite,\u201d had so exhausted the strength and stores of our language,\nthat, as I observed, it was high time for some master-hand to interpose\nand send us for supplies to our old poets; which, there is the highest\nauthority for saying, no one ever despised, but for a reason, not very\nconsistent with his credit to avow: _rudem enim esse omnino in nostris\npo\u00ebtis aut inertissim\u00e6 segniti\u00e6 est aut fastidii delicatissimi_. [Cic.\nde fin. l. i. c. ii.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n72.\u2014SI VOLET USUS, &c.] _Consuetudo certissima loquendi magistra;\nutendumque plan\u00e8 sermone, ut nummo, qui publica forma est._ [Quinctil.\nl. i. c. vi.] imitated from Horace. In _Lucian_ too, we find it one of\nthe charges brought against the Pedant, _Lexiphanes_, that _he clipped\nthe standard_ COIN _of the Greek language_\u2014\u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u1f74\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03cd\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f61\u03c2 \u03b4\u03ae \u03c4\u03b9\n\u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u1f42\u03bd, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c4\u03b9 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1f78 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03ba\u1f78\u03c2 \u039d\u039f\u039c\u0399\u03a3\u039c\u0391 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03c9\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\n(c. 20.)\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n73. RES GESTAE, etc.] The purport of these lines [from v. 73 to 86] and\ntheir connexion with what follows, hath not been fully seen. They would\nexpress this general proposition, \u201cThat the several kinds of poetry\nessentially differ from each other, as may be gathered, not solely from\ntheir different subjects, but their different measures; which good\nsense, and an attention to the peculiar natures of each, instructed\nthe great inventors and masters of them to employ.\u201d The use made of\nthis proposition is to infer, \u201cthat therefore the like attention should\nbe had to the different species of the _same kind_ of poetry [v. 89,\n&c.] as in the case of tragedy and comedy (to which the application is\nmade) whose peculiar differences and correspondencies, as resulting\nfrom the natures of each, should, in agreement to the universal law of\n_decorum_, be exactly known and diligently observed by the poet.\u201d\n\n    _Singula qu\u00e6que locum teneant sortita decentem._\n                                                v. 92.\n\nBut, there is a further propriety in this enumeration of the several\nkinds of poetry, as addressed to the dramatic writer. He is not only to\nstudy, for the purposes here explained, the characteristic differences\nof either species of the drama: He must further be knowing in the other\n_kinds_ of poetry, so as to be able, as the nature of his work shall\ndemand, to adopt the genius of each, in its turn, and to transfer\nthe graces of universal poetry into the drama. Thus, to follow the\ndivision here laid down, there will sometimes be occasion for the pomp\nand high _coloring_ of the EPIC narration; sometimes for the plaintive\nsoftness and passionate inconnexion of the ELEGY: and the chorus, if\ncharacterized in the ancient manner, must catch the fiery, inraptured\nspirit of the ODE.\n\n    _Descriptas servare vices operumque colores,\n    Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque_, POETA _salutor?_\n\nHence is seen the truth of that remark, which there hath been more\nthan once occasion to make, \u201cThat, however general these prefatory\ninstructions may appear, they more especially respect the case of the\n_drama_.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n90. INDIGNATUR ITEM, etc.\u2014COENA THYESTAE.] _Il met le souper de\nThyeste pour toutes sortes de tragedies_, says M. Dacier; but why this\nsubject was singled out, as the representative of the rest, is not\nexplained by him. We may be sure, it was not taken up at random. The\nreason was, that the Thyestes of Ennius was peculiarly chargeable with\nthe fault, here censured: as is plain from a curious passage in the\n_Orator_; where Cicero, speaking of the loose numbers of certain poets,\nobserves this, in particular, of the tragedy of Thyestes, _Similia sunt\nqu\u00e6dam apud nostros: velut in Thyeste_,\n\n    _Quemnam te esse dicam? qui tard\u00e2 in senectute._\n\n_et qu\u00e6 sequuntur: qu\u00e6 nisi c\u00f9m tibicen accesserit_, ORATIONI SUNT\nSOLUT\u00c6 SIMILLIMA: which character exactly agrees to _this_ of Horace,\nwherein the language of that play is censured, as flat and prosaic,\nand hardly rising above the level of ordinary conversation in comedy.\nThis allusion to a particular play, written by one of their best poets,\nand frequently exhibited on the Roman stage, gives great force and\nspirit to the precept, at the same time that it exemplifies it in the\nhappiest manner. It seems further probable to me, that the poet also\ndesigned an indirect compliment to _Varius_, whose Thyestes, we are\ntold, [_Quinctil._ l. x. c. i.] _was not inferior to any tragedy of the\nGreeks_. This double intention of these lines well suited the poet\u2019s\ngeneral aim, which is seen through all his critical works, of beating\ndown the excessive admiration of the old poets, and of asserting the\njust honours of the modern. It may further be observed that the critics\nhave not felt the force of the words _exponi_ and _narrari_ in this\nprecept. They are admirably chosen to express the two faults condemned:\nthe first implying a kind of pomp and ostentation in the language,\nwhich is therefore improper for the low subjects of comedy: and the\nlatter, as I have hinted, a flat, prosaic expression, not above the\ncast of a common _narrative_, and therefore equally unfit for tragedy.\nNothing can be more rambling than the comment of Heinsius and Dacier on\nthis last word.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n94. IRATUSQUE CHREMES TUMIDO DILITIGAT ORE: ET TRAGICUS PLERUMQUE\nDOLET SERMONE PEDESTRI.] It may not be amiss to open a little more\nparticularly the grounds of this criticism: which may best be done by a\ncommentary on the following lines of the poet:\n\n    _Format enim natura pri\u00f9s nos int\u00f9s ad omnem\n    Fortunarum habitum; juvat aut impellit ad iram;\n    Aut ad humum m\u00e6rore gravi deducit et angit:\n    P\u00f2st effert animi motus interprete lingu\u00e2_:\n\nTo _draw_ after the life, in any given conjuncture, the poet must\nrecollect (which may easily be done by consulting with his own\nconscious experience) that _peculiar disposition_ of mind, into which\nthe speaker is, of necessity, carried by the circumstances of his\nsituation. And the _sentiments_, which give the image of this peculiar\ndisposition, are the genuine lineaments of the character intended.\n\nBut the _truth_ of sentiment may be hurt or effaced by incongruous\nlanguage, just as the exactest lineaments of a portrait are often\ndisguised or lost under a vicious coloring. To _paint_ then as well\nas draw after the truth, it is requisite that a further regard be\nhad to the _expression_. Which again is no great difficulty for the\nartist, the same common nature holding the torch to him, as before.\nFor in entering into ourselves we find, that as the mind, in any\nsupposed situation, gives birth to a _certain_ set of conceptions and\nsentiments, correspondent to its true state, and expressive of it: so\nby attending to the _language_, in which those sentiments ordinarily\nmanifest themselves, we easily perceive they take _one_ style or\nmanner of expression preferably to every other. For _expression_,\nwhere false art is not employed to distort it, gives the just image of\nour _sentiments_; just as _these_, when nature is not suppressed or\ncounteracted, are ever the faithful representatives of the _manners_.\nThey result, like the famous _Simulacra_ of Epicurus, as by a secret\ndestination, from their _original forms_; and are, _each_, the perfect\ncopies of _other_. All which will be clearly understood by applying\nthese general observations to the instances in view.\n\nThe passion of ANGER rouses all the native fire and energy of the soul.\nIn this disorder, and, as it were, insurrection of the mental powers,\nour sentiments are strong and vigorous; nature prompting us to liberal\nand lofty conceptions of ourselves, and a superior disdainful regard\nof others. This again determines the _genius_ of our language, which,\nto conform to such sentiments, must be bold and animated; breaking\nout into forcible imagery, and swelling in all the pomp of sounding\nepithets and violent figures. And this even amidst the humbler\nconcerns of private and inferior fortunes:\n\n    _Iratusque Chremes_ TUMIDO DILITIGAT ORE.\n\nIn the passion of GRIEF, on the contrary, the reverse of this takes\nplace. For the mind, oppressed and weighed down by its sorrows, sinks\ninto a weak and timorous despondency; inclining us to submit, almost\nwithout resistance, to the incumbent affliction; or if we struggle\nat all with it, it is only to ease the labouring heart by putting\nforth some fruitless sighs and ineffectual complainings. Thus we find\nit represented by those perfect masters of simple nature, the Greek\ntragedians. So far are their sorrowing personages from entertaining any\nvigorous thoughts or manly resolutions, that they constantly languish\ninto sad repinings at their present, and trembling apprehensions of\nfuture, misery.\n\nWhen these sentiments come to express themselves in _words_, what\ncan they be but the plainest and simplest which the language of\nthe complainant furnishes? Such negligence, or more properly such\ndejection, of sorrow disposes the speaker to take up with terms as\nhumble as his fortune. His feeble conception is not only unapt or\nunable to look out for fine words and painted phrases; but, if chance\nthrow them in his way, he even rejects them as trappings of another\ncondition, and which serves only to upbraid his present wretchedness.\nThe pomp of numbers and pride of _poetic_ expression are so little\nhis care, that it is well if he even trouble himself to observe the\nordinary exactness of _mere prose_[11]. And this even where the height\nof rank and importance of affairs conspire to elevate the mind to more\nstate and dignity.\n\n    _Et tragicus plerumque_ DOLET SERMONE PEDESTRI.\n\nThus far the dramatic writer may inform himself by entering into his\nown _consciousness_, and observing the sure dictates of experience. For\nwhat concerns the successful application of this rule in _practice_,\nevery thing, as is remarked below, [on v. 102.] must depend on the\nconstitution of his own mind; which yet may be much assisted by the\ndiligent study of those writers, who excel most in this way: in which\nclass all agree to give the palm to EURIPIDES.\n\nBut here it may not be improper to obviate a common mistake that seems\nto have arisen from the too strict interpretation of the poet\u2019s Rule.\n_Tragic characters_, he says, _will generally express their sorrows in\na prosaic language_. From this just observation, hastily considered\nand compared with the absurd practice of some writers, it hath been\nconcluded, That what we call _pure Poetry_, the essence of which\nconsists in bold figures and a lively imagery, hath no place on the\nStage. It may not be sufficient to oppose to this notion the _practice_\nof the best poets, ancient and modern; for the question recurrs,\nhow far that practice is to be justified on the principles of good\ncriticism and common sense. To come then, _to the Reason of the thing_.\n\n\nThe capital rule in this matter is,\n\n    _Reddere Person\u00e6\u2014convenientia cuique_.\n\nBut to do this, the _Situation_ of the persons, and the various\n_passions_ resulting from such situation, must be well considered. Each\nof these has a _character_ or turn of thinking peculiar to itself. But\n_all_ agree in this property, that they occupy the whole attention of\nthe speaker, and are perpetually offering to his mind a set of pictures\nor images, suitable to his state, and expressive of it. In these the\ntragic character of every denomination loves to indulge; as we may see\nby looking no farther than on what passes before us in common life,\nwhere persons, under the influence of any passion, are more eloquent\nand have a greater quickness at allusion and imagery, than at other\ntimes. So that to take from the speaker this privilege of representing\nsuch pictures or images is so far from consulting Nature, that it is,\nin effect, to overlook or reject one of her plainest lessons.\n\n\u2019Tis true, if _one_ character is busied in running after the\nImages which Nature throws in the way only of some _other_; or if,\nin representing such images as are proper to the character, the\nImagination is taken up in tracing minute resemblances and amusing\nitself with circumstances that have no relation to the case in hand:\nthen indeed the censure of these critics is well applied. It may be\n_fine poetry_, if you will, but very bad _dramatic writing_. But let\nthe imagery be ever so great or splendid, if it be such only as the\ngoverning passion loves to conceive and paint, and if it be no further\ndilated on, and with no greater sollicitude and curiosity, than the\nnatural working of the passion demands, the Drama is so far from\nrejecting such Poetry that it glories in it, as what is most essential\nto its true end and design.\n\n    _Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur\n    Ire poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit,\n    Inritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet,\n    Ut magus_\u2014\u2014\n\nAn office, which the dramatic poet hath no means of sustaining but by\nthat strong painting and forcible imagery, above described.\n\nWhat seems to have given a colour to the opposite opinion, is the\nfaulty practice which good critics have observed in the _French_\ntragedies, and in some of our own that have been formed upon their\nmodel. But the case is mistaken. It is not the _Poetry_ of the\nFrench or English drama that deserves their censure, but its prolix\nand languid _Declamation_, neglecting passion for _sentiment_, or\nexpressing _passion_ in a calm circuit of words and without spirit.\nEven Mr. Addison\u2019s CATO, which from being immoderately extolled has\nhad the usual fate of being as immoderately undervalued, is not to be\ncensured for its abundance of poetry, but for its application of it in\na way that hurts the _passion_. General sentiments, uncharacteristic\nimagery, and both drawn out in a spiritless, or, which comes to the\nsame thing, a too curious expression, are the proper faults of this\ndrama. What the critic of just taste demands in this fine tragedy, is\neven more poetry, but better applied and touched with more spirit.\n\nStill, perhaps, we are but on the surface of this matter. The true\nground of this mistaken Criticism, is, The Notion, that when the Hero\nis at the crisis of his fate, he is not at liberty to use Poetical,\nthat is, highly figurative expression: but that the proper season for\nthese things is when he has nothing else to do. Whereas the truth is\njust the contrary. The figures, when he is greatly agitated, come of\nthemselves; and, suiting the grandeur and dignity of his situation,\nare perfectly natural. To use them in his cool and quiet moments, when\nhe has no great interests to prosecute or extricate himself from, is\ndirectly against _Nature_. For, in this state of things, he must _seek_\nthem, if he will have them. And when he has got them and made his best\nuse of them, what do they produce? Not sublimity, but Bombast. For it\nis not the _figures_, but the suitableness to the _occasion_, that\nproduces either. Not that I am ignorant that there are vices in the\n_formation_ of figures, as well as in their application. But these\nvices go under various other names. The _pure simple Bombast_ (if I\nmay be indulged so bold a catachresis) arises from putting figurative\nexpression to an improper use. To give an instance of what I mean.\nTACITUS writes under one continued resentment at the degeneracy of his\ntimes, and speaking of some sumptuary Laws proposed by the Senate, in 2\n_Ann._ c. 33, he says they decreed, _Ne Vestis Serica viros_ FOEDARET.\nThis became the dignity of his historic character and genius. But had\nhis Contemporary, Suetonius, who wrote Chronicles in the spirit of\nour STOW and HOLINSHED, used the same language, it would have set his\nreaders a laughing.\n\nNot but figurative expression, even when _suitable_ to the character,\ngenius, and general subject of a writer, may still be _misplaced_.\nThus, had Tacitus, speaking of the honours decreed to Tiberius on a\ncertain occasion, said with his translator Gordon\u2014_which of these\nhe meant to accept or which to reject, the approaching issue of his\ndays has_ BURIED _in oblivion_\u2014the _figure_, the reader sees, would\nhave been miserably out of place; the conceit of the _burial_ of his\nintentions, on the mention of his death, being even ridiculous. But\nthe ridicule, we may be sure, falls on the translator only, and not\non his great original, who expresses himself on this occasion, not\nonly with propriety, but with the greatest simplicity\u2014_quos omiserit\nreceperitve_ IN INCERTO _fuit ob propinquum vit\u00e6 finem_. Ann. l. vi. c.\n45.\n\nI have brought these instances to shew that _figurative expression_ is\nnot improper even in a fervent animated historian, on a _fit subject_,\nand in _due place_: much less should the tragic poet, when his\ncharacters are to be shewn in the conflict of the stronger passions, be\ndebarred the use of it.\n\nThe short of the matter is, in one word, this. Civil Society first of\nall _tames us to humanity_, as Cicero expresses it; and, in the course\nof its discipline, brings us down to one dead level. Its effect is to\nmake us all the same pliant, mimic, obsequious things; not unlike, in\na word, (if our pride could overlook the levity of the comparison)\nwhat we see of trained Apes. But when the violent passions arise (as\nin the case of these Apes when the apples were thrown before them)\nthis artificial discipline is all shaken off, and we return again to\nthe free and ferocious state of Nature. And what is the expression of\nthat state? It is (as we understand by experience) a free and fiery\nexpression, all made up of bold metaphors and daring figures of Speech.\n\nThe conclusion is, that Poetry, _pure Poetry_, is the proper language\nof _Passion_, whether we chuse to consider it as ennobling, or debasing\nthe human character.\n\nThere is, as I have said, an obvious distinction to be made (and to\nthat the poet\u2019s rule, as explained in this note, refers) between the\nsoft and tender, and the more vigorous passions. When the former\nprevail, the mind is in a weak languid state; and though all allusion\nand imagery be not improper here, yet as that fire and energy of the\nsoul is wanting, which gives a facility of ranging over our ideas\nand of seizing such as may be turned to any resemblance of our own\ncondition, it will for that reason be less _frequent_ in this state of\nthe mind than any other. Such imagery, too, will for the same reason be\nless _striking_, because the same languid affections lead to, and make\nus acquiesce in a simpler and plainer expression. But universally in\nthe stronger passions the _poetical character_ prevails, and rises only\nin proportion to the force and activity of those passions.\n\nTo draw the whole then of what has been said on this subject into a\nstanding RULE for the observance of the dramatic Poet.\n\n\u201cMAN is so formed that whether he be in joy, or grief; in confidence or\ndespair; in pleasure or pain; in prosperity or distress; in security\nor danger; or torn and distracted by all the various modifications of\nLove, Hate, and Fear: The Imagination is incessantly presenting to the\nmind an infinite variety of images or pictures, conformable to his\nSituation: And these Pictures receive their various coloring from the\nhabits, which his birth and condition, his education, profession and\npursuits have induced. The _representation_ of these is the POETRY,\nand a _just_ representation, in a great measure, the ART, of dramatic\nwriting.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n95. ET TRAGICUS PLERUMQUE DOLET SERMONE PEDESTRI.] Dr. Bentley connects\nthis with the following line:\n\n    [_Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri\n    Telephus aut Peleus_\n\nfor the sake, as he says, of _preserving the opposition_. _In\ncom\u00e6di\u00e2 iratus Chremes tumido, in trag\u00e6di\u00e2 Telephus pauper humili\nsermone utitur._ This is specious; but, if the reader attends, he\nwill perceive, that the opposition is better preserved without his\nconnection. For it will stand thus: The poet first asserts of comedy at\nlarge, _that it sometimes raises its voice_,\n\n    _Interdum tamen et vocem com\u00e6dia tollit_.\n\nNext, he confirms this general remark, by appealing to a particular\ninstance,\n\n    _Iratusque Chremes tumido dilitigat ore_.\n\nExactness of _opposition_ will require the same method to be observed\nin speaking of _tragedy_; which accordingly is the case, if we follow\nthe vulgar reading. For, first, it is said of _tragedy_, that, when\ngrief is to be expressed, it generally condescends to an humbler strain,\n\n    _Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri_.\n\nAnd then the general truth, as before, is illustrated by a particular\ninstance,\n\n    _Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,\n    Projicit ampullas, &c._\n\nThere is no absurdity, as the Doctor pretends, in taking _tragicus_ for\n_trag\u00e6diarum scriptor_. For the poet, by a common figure, is made to do\nthat, which he represents his persons, as doing.\n\nBut this is not the whole, that will deserve the reader\u2019s regard in\nthis place. A strict attention to the scope and turn of the passage\n[from v. 96 to 114] will lead him to conclude, 1. \u201cThat some real\ntragedy of Telephus and Peleus was intended in v. 96, in which the\ncharacters were duly preserved and set forth in proper language.\u201d This\nthe opposition to the _Chremes_ of Terence absolutely demands. Let us\ninquire what this might be. _Euripides_, we know, composed tragedies\nunder these names; but it is unlikely, the poet should contrast the\ninstance of a _Greek_ tragedy to a _Latin_ comedy. Nor need it be\nsupposed. The subject was familiar to the Roman poets. For we find a\n_Telephus_ ascribed to no less than three of them, _Ennius_, _Accius_,\nand _N\u00e6vius_[12]. One of these then I doubt not, is here intended. But\nthe Roman, in those times, were little more than translations of the\nGreek plays. Hence it is most likely, that the tragedy of _Telephus_\n(and probably of _Peleus_, though we have not so direct authority\nfor this) was, in fact, the tragedy of _Euripides_, translated into\nLatin, and accommodated to the Roman stage, by one of these writers.\nIt remains only to enquire, if the _Telephus_ itself of _Euripides_\nanswered to this character. Which, I think, it manifestly did, from\nconsidering what his enemy, the buffoon Aristophanes, hath said\nconcerning it. Every body knows, that the BATRAXOI of this poet\ncontains a direct satyr, and Burlesque upon _Euripides_. Some part\nof it is particularly levelled against his _Telephus_: whence we may\ncertainly learn the objections, that were made to it. Yet the amount\nof them is only this, \u201cThat he had drawn the character of _Telephus_\nin too many circumstances of distress and humiliation.\u201d His fault was,\nthat he had represented him more like a beggar, than an unfortunate\nprince. Which, in more candid hands, would, I suppose, amount only to\nthis, \u201cThat the poet had painted his distress in the most natural, and\naffecting manner.\u201d He had stripped him of his royalty, and, together\nwith it of the pomp and ostentation of the regal language, the very\nbeauty, which Horace applauds and admires in his _Telephus_.\n\n2. Next, I think it as clear from what follows, \u201cThat some real tragedy\nof _Telephus_, and _Peleus_, was also glanced at, of a different stamp\nfrom the other, and in which the characters were not supported by\nsuch propriety of language.\u201d Let the reader judge. Having quoted a\n_Telephus_ and _Peleus_, as examples to the rule concerning the style\nof tragedy, and afterwards enlarged [from v. 98 to 103] on the reasons\nof their excellence, he returns, with an air of insult, to the same\nnames, apostrophizing them in the following manner:\n\n    _Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqu\u00earis,\n    Aut dormitabo aut ridebo_:\n\nBut why this address to _characters_, which he had before alleged, as\nexamples of true dramatical _drawing_? Would any tolerable writer,\nafter having applauded Shakespear\u2019s King _Lear_, as an instance of the\nkingly character in distress, naturally painted, apostrophize it, with\nsuch pointed vehemence, on the contrary supposition? But let this pass.\nThe Poet, as though a notorious violation of the critic\u2019s rules was to\nbe thoroughly exposed, goes on, in the seven following lines, to search\ninto the bottom of this affair, laying open the source and ground of\nhis judgment; and concludes upon the whole,\n\n    _Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta_,\n    ROMANI TOLLENT EQUITESQUE PATRESQUE CACHINNUM.\n\nCan any thing be plainer, than that this last line points at some\nwell-known instance of a Latin play, which had provoked, upon this\naccount, the contempt and laughter of the best judges? It may further\nbe observed, that this way of understanding the passage before us, as\nit is more conformable to what is here shewn to be the general scope of\nthe epistle, so doth it, in its turn, likewise countenance, or rather\nclearly shew, the truth and certainty of this method of interpretation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n99. NON SATIS EST PULCHRA, etc.] Dr. Bentley objects to _pulchra_,\nbecause this, he says, is a general term, including under it every\nspecies of beauty, and therefore that of _dulcis_ or the _affecting_.\nBut the great critic did not sufficiently attend to the connexion,\nwhich, as F. Robortellus, in his paraphrase on the epistle, well\nobserves, stands thus: \u201cIt is not enough, that tragedies have that kind\nof beauty, which arises from a pomp and splendor of diction, they must\nalso be pathetic or affecting.\u201d _Objiciat se mihi hoc loco aliquis et\ndicat, si id fiat_ [_i. e._ si projiciantur ampull\u00e6] _corrumpi omnem\nvenustatem et gravitatem po\u00ebmatis tragici, quod nihil nisi grande et\nelatum recipit. Huic ego ita respondendum puto, non satis esse, ut\npo\u00ebmata venusta sint et dignitatem suam servent: nam dulcedine quoque\net suavitate qu\u00e2dam sunt conspergenda, ut possint auditoris animum\ninflectere in quamcunque voluerint partem._\n\nBut a very ingenious person, who knows how to unite philosophy with\ncriticism; and to all that is elegant in _taste_, to add what is most\njust and accurate in _science_, hath, in the following note, shewn the\nvery foundation of Dr. Bentley\u2019s criticism to be erroneous.\n\n\u201cThere are a multitude of words in every language, which are sometimes\nused in a _wider_, sometimes in a _more restrained_ sense. Of this\nkind are \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd of the Greeks, the _pulchrum_ of the Romans, and the\nwords by which they are translated in modern languages. To whatever\nsubjects these epithets are applied, we always intend to signify that\nthey give us _pleasure_: and we seldom apply them to any subjects,\nbut those which please by means of impressions made on the fancy:\n_including_ under this name the reception of images conveyed directly\nby the sight itself. As Poetry therefore always addresses itself to the\nimagination, every species of _poetical excellence_ obtains the name of\n_Beauty_: and, among the rest, the power of pleasing us by affecting\nthe _passions_; an effect which intirely depends on the various images\npresented to our view. In this sense of the word _beautiful_, it cannot\nbe opposed to _pathetic_. _Pulchrum enim quascunque carminis virtutes,\netiam ipsam_ dulcedinem, _in se continere merit\u00f2 videatur._\n\nBut nothing, I think, can be plainer, than that this epithet is often\nused more _determinately_. Visible forms are not merely occasions of\npleasure, in common with other objects, but they produce a pleasure of\na singular kind. And the power they have of producing it, is properly\ndenominated by the name of _Beauty_. Whether Regularity and Variety\nhave been rightly assigned, as the circumstances on which it depends,\nis a question, which in this place we need not consider. It cannot\nat least be denied, that we make a distinction among the objects of\nsight, when the things themselves are removed from our view: and that\nwe annex the names of Beauty and Deformity to different objects and\ndifferent pictures, in consequence of these perceptions. I ask then,\nwhat is meant, when the words are thus applied? Is it only that we\nare _pleased_ or _displeased_? This surely cannot be said. For the\nepithets would then be applied with equal propriety to the objects\nof different senses: and the fragrance of a flower, for instance,\nwould be a species of beauty; the bitterness of wormwood a species\nof deformity.\u2014Do we then mean, that we receive pleasure and pain by\nmeans of the _Imagination_? We may indeed mean _this_: but we certainly\nmean _more_ than this. For the same names are used and applied, in a\nmanner perfectly similar, by numbers of persons who never once thought\nof this artificial method of distinguishing their ideas. There is then\nsome kind of perception, common to them and us, which has occasioned\nthis uniformity in our ways of speaking: and whether you will chuse to\nconsider the perceptive faculty as resulting only from habit, or allow\nit the name of a _Sense_ of Beauty; whether these perceptions can,\nor cannot, be resolved into some _general_ principle, imagination of\nprivate advantage, or sympathy with others, are, in the present case,\ncircumstances wholly indifferent.\n\nIf it be admitted that the epithets, of which we are speaking, were\noriginally used in this restrained sense, it is easy to see that they\nwould readily obtain the more _extended_ signification. For the species\nof pleasure to which they were first confined, was found always to\narise from images impressed on the fancy: what then more natural,\nthan to apply the same words to every species of pleasure resulting\nfrom the imagination, and to every species of images productive of\npleasure? Thus the _beauty_ of a human person might originally signify\nsuch combinations of figure and colour, as produced the _peculiar_\nperception above-mentioned. _Pulchritudo corporis_ (says Cicero) _apt\u00e2\ncompositione membrorum movet oculos, et eo ipso delectat, &c._\u2014But\nfrom this signification to the other the transition was easy and\nobvious. If every beautiful form gave pleasure, every pleasing form\nmight come to be called beautiful: not because the same perceptions\nare excited by _all_ (the pleasures being apparently different) but\nbecause they are all excited in the same manner. And this is confirmed\nby a distinction which every one understands between beauties of the\n_regular_ and _irregular_ kind. When we would distinguish these from\neach other, we call the latter _agreeable_, and leave to the former\nonly the name of _beautiful_: that is, we confine the latter term to\nits proper and original sense.\u2014In much the same manner objects _not\nvisible_ may sometimes obtain the name of beauty, for no other reason\nthan because the imagination is agreeably employed about them; and we\nmay speak of a beautiful _character_, as well as a beautiful _person_:\nby no means intending that we have the same _feeling_ from the one as\nthe other, but that in both cases we are _pleased_, and that in both\nthe _imagination_ contributes to the pleasure.\n\nNow as every _representative art_ is capable of affording us pleasure,\nand this pleasure is occasioned by images impressed on the fancy;\nevery pleasing production of art, will of course obtain the name\nof beautiful. Yet this hinders us not from considering beauty as a\n_distinct_ excellence in such productions. For we may distinguish,\neither in a picture or poem, between the pleasures we receive directly\nfrom the imitation of _visible forms_, and those which principally\ndepend on _other_ kinds of imitation: And we may consider visible forms\nthemselves either as _occasions_ of pleasure, in _common_ with other\nobjects; or as yielding us that _peculiar_ delight which they alone are\ncapable of yielding. If we use the word _beautiful_ in this _limited_\nsense, it is very intelligibly opposed to _pathetic_. Images of Groves,\nFields, Rocks and Water, afford us a pleasure extremely different\nfrom that which we find in the indulgence of our _tender affections_:\nnor can there be any danger of confounding the agreeable perception\nreceived from a masterly statue of an Apollo or a Venus, with that\nwhich arises from a representation of the _terrors_ men feel under a\nstorm or a plague.\n\nIt is no objection to what has been said, that the objects we call\n_beautiful_ may also in some cases be occasions of _passion_. The\nsight, for instance, of a beautiful person may give birth to the\npassion of Love: yet to perceive the beauty and to feel the passion are\ntwo different things. For every beautiful object does not produce love\nin every observer, and the same passion is sometimes excited by objects\nnot beautiful; I mean not called beautiful by the persons themselves\nwho are affected by them. And the distinction between these feelings,\nwould receive further confirmation (if indeed there could be any doubt\nof it) from observing that people frequently speak of beauty, and as\nfar as appears intelligibly, in persons of their _own sex_; who feel\nperhaps no _passion_ but that of _envy_: which will not surely be\nthought the same with the perception of _beauty_.\n\nThere is then no room for an objection to the text of Horace, as\nit stood before Dr. B.\u2019s emendation: unless it should be thought an\nimpropriety to oppose two epithets which are _capable_ of being\nunderstood in senses _not opposite_. But there is not the least ground\nfor this imagination. For when a word of uncertain signification is\n_opposed_ to another whose signification is certain; the opposition\nitself _determines_ the sense. The word _day_ in one of its senses\nincludes the whole space of twenty-four hours: yet it is not surely\nan impropriety to oppose _day_ to _night_.\u2014In like manner the words\n_pulchra po\u00ebmata_, if we were not directed by the context, might\nsignify _good poems_ in general: but when the beauty of a poem is\n_distinguished_ from other excellences, this distinction will lead\nus to confine our idea to _beautiful imagery_; and, we know it is\nagreeable to the sentiments which Horace expresses in other places,\nto declare that this kind of merit is _insufficient_ in _dramatic_\nwriters, from whom we expect a pleasure of very different kind. Indeed\nthe most exquisite painting, if it is not constantly subordinate to\nthis higher end, becomes not only insufficient, but _impertinent_:\nserving only to divert the attention, and interrupt the course of the\npassions.\n\nIt may seem perhaps that the force of a _Latin_ expression cannot be\nascertained from reflections of this sort, but must be gathered from\ncitations of particular passages. And this indeed is true with regard\nto the _peculiarities_ of the language. But the question before us\nis of a different kind. It is a question of _Philosophy_ rather than\n_Criticism_: as depending on those differences of ideas, which are\nmarked by similar forms of expression in _all_ languages.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n102. SI VIS ME FLERE, DOLENDUM EST PRIMUM IPSI TIBI:] _Tragedy_, as[13]\none said, who had a heart to feel its tenderest emotions, _shewed forth\nthe ulcers that are covered with tissue_. In order to awaken and call\nforth in the spectator all those sympathies, which naturally await on\nthe lively exhibition of such a scene, the writer must have a soul\n_tuned_ to the most exquisite sensibility, and susceptible of the same\nvibrations from his own created images, which are known to _shake_ the\nsufferer in real life. This is so uncommon a pitch of humanity, that\n\u2019tis no wonder, so few have succeeded in this _trying_ part of the\ndrama. Euripides, of all the ancients, had most of this sympathetic\ntenderness in his nature, and accordingly we find him without a rival\nin this praise. \u03a4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ce\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd, says Aristotle of him [\u03a0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76\n\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03b9\u03b3\u02b9.] and to the same purpose another great critic, _In\naffectibus cum omnibus mirus, tum in iis, qui_ MISERATIONE _constant,\nfacile pr\u00e6cipuus_. [Quinct. l. x. c. i.] They, who apply themselves to\nexpress the _pitiable_ \u1f10\u03bb\u03b5\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd in tragedy, would do well to examine\ntheir own hearts by this rule, before they presume to practise upon\nthose of others. See, further, this remark applied by Cicero to the\nsubject of oratory, and inforced with his usual elegance and good\nsense. [l. ii. c. xlv. _De oratore._]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n103. TUNC TUA ME INFORTUNIA LAEDENT.] This is expressed with accuracy.\nYet the truth is, The more we are _hurt_ with representations of this\nsort, the more we are _pleased_ with them. Whence arises this strange\n_Pleasure_? The question hath been frequently asked, and various\nanswers have been given to it.\n\nBut of all the solutions of this famous difficulty, that which we have\njust now received from Mr. Hume, is by far the most curious.\n\n\nHis account in short is, \u201cThat the force of imagination, the energy\nof expression, the power of numbers, the charms of imitation, are all\nnaturally of themselves delightful to the mind; that these sentiments\nof beauty, being the _predominant_ emotions, seize the whole mind, and\nconvert the uneasy melancholy passions into themselves. In a word, that\nthe sentiments of _beauty_, excited by a good tragedy, are the superior\nprevailing movements, and transform the subordinate impressions\narising from _grief_, _compassion_, _indignation_, and _terror_, into\none uniform and strong enjoyment.\u201d [_See four Dissertations by_ D.\nHume, _Esq. p. 185, &c._]\n\n\nI have but two objections to this ingenious theory. ONE is, that it\nsupposes the impression of grief or terror, excited by a well-written\ntragedy, to be weaker than that which arises from our observation of\nthe faculties of the writer, the power of numbers, and imitation. Which\nto me is much the same thing as saying, That the sight of a precipice\nhanging over our heads makes a fainter impression on the eye, than\nthe shrubs and wild flowers with which it happens to be covered. The\nfact is so far otherwise, that, if the tragedy be well-written, I will\nventure to say, the faculties of the writer, the charms of poetry, or\neven the thought of imitation, never come into the spectator\u2019s head.\nBut he may feel the effect of them, it will be said, for all that.\nTrue: But unluckily the whole effect of these things is (and that was\nmy OTHER objection) to deepen the impressions of grief and terror. They\nare out of place, and altogether impertinent, if they contribute to any\nother end. So that to say, The impression of grief and terror from a\ntragic story, strong as it is in itself, and made still stronger by the\nart of the poet, is a weaker impression, than the mere pleasure arising\nfrom that _art_, is methinks to account for one mystery by another ten\ntimes greater, and to make the poet a verier _magician_ than Horace\never intended to represent him.\n\nThis ingenious solution then, being so evidently founded on the\nsupposition of a _false fact_, deserves no further notice. As to the\n_difficulty_ itself, the following hints may, perhaps, enable the\nreader, in some measure, to account for it.\n\n1. It is not to be doubted but that we love to have our _attention_\nraised, and our _curiosity_ gratified. So far the ABB\u00c9 DU BOS\u2019 system\nmay be admitted.\n\n2. The representation, however distressful, is still seen to be a\nrepresentation. We find our hearts affected, and even pained, by a\ngood tragedy. But we instantly recollect that the scene is fictitious;\nand the _recollection_ not only abates our uneasiness, but diffuses a\nsecret joy upon the mind in the discovery we make that the _occasion_\nof our uneasiness is not real. Just as our awaking from a frightful\ndream, and sometimes a secret consciousness of the illusion during\nthe dream itself, is attended with pleasure. That so much of M. DE\nFONTENELLE\u2019S notion must be admitted, is clear, because children, who\ntake the sufferings on the stage for realities, are so afflicted by\nthem that they don\u2019t care to repeat the experiment.\n\nBut still, all this is by no means a full account of the matter. For,\n\n3. It should be considered, that ALL the uneasy Passions, in the\nvery time that we are distressed by them, nay, though the occasions\nbe instant and real, have a secret complacency mixed with them. It\nseems as if Providence, in compassion to human feeling, had, together\nwith our sorrows, infused a kind of balm into the mind, to temper and\nqualify, as it were, these bitter ingredients. But,\n\n4. Besides this _general_ provision, the nature of the _peculiar_\npassions, excited by tragedy, is such as, in a more eminent degree,\nmust produce pleasure. For what are these, but indignation at\nprosperous vice, or the commiseration of suffering virtue? And the\nagitation of these passions is even, in real life, accompanied with a\ncertain delight, which was, no doubt, intended to quicken us in the\nexercise of those social offices. Still further.\n\n5. To the pleasure _directly_ springing from these passions we may\nadd another which naturally, but imperceptibly almost steals in upon\nus from _reflexion_. We are conscious to our own humanity on these\ntender occasions. We understand and feel that it is _right_ for us\nto be affected by the distresses of others. Our pain is softened by\na secret exultation in the rectitude of these sympathies. \u2019Tis true,\nthis reflex act of the mind is prevented, or suspended at least for a\ntime, when the sufferings are real, and concern those for whom we are\nmost interested. But the fictions of the stage do not press upon us so\nclosely.\n\nPutting all these things together, the conclusion is, That though the\nimpressions of the theatre are, in their immediate effect, painful to\nus, yet they must, on the whole, afford an extreme pleasure, and that\nin proportion to the degree of the first painful impression. For not\nonly our attention is rouzed, but our moral instincts are gratified; we\nreflect with joy that they are so, and we reflect too that the sorrows\nwhich call them forth and give this exercise to our humanity, are but\nfictitious. We are occupied, in a word, by a _great_ event; we are\nmelted into tears by a _distressful_ one; the heart is relieved by this\nburst of sorrow; is cheared and animated by the finest moral feelings;\nexults in the consciousness of its own sensibility; and finds, in\nconclusion, that the whole is but an illusion.\n\nThe sum is, that we are not so properly delighted _by_ the Passions,\nas _through_ them. They give _occasion_ to the most pleasing movements\nand gratulations. The art of the poet indeed consists in giving _pain_.\nBut nature and reflexion fly to our relief; and though they do not\nconvert our pain into joy (for that methinks would be little less than\na new kind of _Transubstantiation_) they have an equivalent effect in\nproducing an exquisite joy out of our preceding sorrows.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n119. AUT FAMAM SEQUERE, &c.] The connexion lies thus: _Language_ must\nagree with _character_; _character_ with _fame_, or at least with\n_itself_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n123. SIT MEDEA FEROX INVICTAQUE.] Horace took this instance from\nEuripides, where the _unconquered fierceness_ of this character is\npreserved in that due mediocrity, which nature and just writing\ndemand. The poet, in giving her character, is content to say of her,\n\n    \u0392\u03b1\u03c1\u03b5\u1fd6\u03b1 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c6\u03c1\u1f74\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1ff6\u03c2\n    \u03a0\u03ac\u03c3\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2\u2019\n\nAnd\n\n    \u0394\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f74 \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1. \u03bf\u1f56 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u1fe5\u1fb3\u03b4\u03af\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b5 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u1f7c\u03bd\n    \u1f18\u03c7\u03b8\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1fc7, \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03af\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f34\u03c3\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\nAnd she herself, when opening to the chorus her last horrid purpose,\nsays, fiercely indeed, but not frantically:\n\n    \u039c\u03b7\u03b4\u03b5\u03af\u03c2 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c6\u03b1\u03cd\u03bb\u03b7\u03bd \u03ba\u1f80\u03c3\u03b8\u03b5\u03bd\u1fc6 \u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03b6\u03ad\u03c4\u03c9\n    \u039c\u03b7\u03b4\u2019 \u1f21\u03c3\u03c5\u03c7\u03b1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd.\n\nAnd this is _nature_, which Seneca not perceiving, and yet willing to\nwrite up to the critic\u2019s rule, hath outraged her character beyond all\nbounds, and, instead of a resolute, revengeful woman, hath made of her\na downright fury. Hence her passion is wrought up to a greater height\nin the very first scene of the Latin play, than it ever reaches in the\nGreek poet. The tenor of her language throughout is,\n\n        _invadam deos,\n    Et cuncta quatiam_.\n\nAnd hence, in particular, the third and fourth acts expose to our view\nall the horrors of sorcery (and those too _imaged_ to an extravagance)\nwhich Euripides, with so much better judgment, thought fit entirely to\nconceal.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n126. SERVETUR AD IMUM QUALIS AB INCEPTO PROCESSERIT, ET SIBI CONSTET.]\nThe rule is, as appears from the reason of the thing, and from\nAristotle, \u201cLet an _uniformity_ of character be preserved, or at least\na _consistency_:\u201d i. e. either let the manners be exactly the same\nfrom the beginning to the end of the play, as those of Medea, for\ninstance, and Orestes; or, if any change be necessary, let it be such\nas may consist with, and be easily reconciled to, the manners formerly\nattributed; as is seen in the case of Electra and Iphigenia. We should\nread then, it is plain,\n\n                    _servetur ad imum\n    Qualis ab incepto processerit_, AUT _sibi constet_.\n\nThe mistake arose from imagining, that a character could no other way\n_consist_ with itself, but by being _uniform_. A mistake however,\nwhich, as I said, not the reason of the thing only, but Aristotle\u2019s\nrule might have set right. It is expressed thus: \u03a4\u03ad\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f41\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03bd.\n\u039a\u1f82\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f96, \u1f41 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u03bc\u03af\u03bc\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ad\u03c7\u03c9\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f26\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2\n\u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u03b9\u03b8\u03b5\u1f76\u03c2, \u1f45\u03bc\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f41\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9. \u03a0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03b9\u03b5\u02b9. which last\nwords, having been not at all understood, have kept his interpreters\nfrom seeing the true sense and scope of the precept. For they have been\nexplained of such characters, as that of _Tigellius_ in Horace; which,\nhowever proper for satyr, or for farcical comedy, are of too fantastic\nand whimsical a nature to be admitted into tragedy; of which Aristotle\nmust there be chiefly understood to speak, and to which Horace, in\nthis place, alone confines himself. \u201c\u2019Tis true, indeed, it may be said,\nthat though a _whimsical_ or _fantastic_ character be improper for\ntragedy, an _irresolute_ one is not. Nothing is finer than a struggle\nbetween different passions; and it is perfectly natural, that in such\na circumstance, each should prevail by turns.\u201d But then there is the\nwidest difference between the two cases. _Tigellius_, with all his\nfantastic irresolution, is as _uniform_ a character as that of _Mitio_.\nIf the expression may be allowed, its very _inconsistency_ is of the\nessence of its _uniformity_. On the other hand, Electra, torn with\nsundry conflicting passions, is most apparently, and in the properest\nnotion of the word, _ununiform_. One of the strongest touches in her\ncharacter is that of a high, heroic spirit, sensible to her own, and\nher family\u2019s injuries, and determined, at any rate, to revenge them.\nYet no sooner is this revenge perpetrated, than she softens, relents,\nand pities. Here is a manifest _ununiformity_, which can, in no proper\nsense of the expression lay claim to the critic\u2019s \u1f41\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u1f78\u03bd, but may be so\nmanaged, by the poet\u2019s skill, as to become consistent with the basis or\nfoundation of her character, that is, to be \u1f41\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u1ff6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ce\u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd. And that\nthis, in fact, was the meaning of the critic, is plain from the similar\nexample to his own rule, given in the case of Iphigenia: which he\nspecifies (how justly will be considered hereafter) as an instance of\nthe \u1f00\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, _irregular_, or _ununiform_, character, ill-expressed,\nor made _inconsistent_. So that the genuine sense of the precept is,\n\u201cLet the manners be uniform; or, if ununiform, yet consistently so, or\nuniformly ununiform:\u201d exactly copied, according to the reading, here\ngiven by Horace. Whereas in the other way, it stands thus: \u201cLet your\ncharacters be uniform, or unchanged; or, if you paint an ununiform\ncharacter (such as Tigellius) let it be ununiform all the way; _i. e._\nsuch an irregular character to the end of the play, as it was at the\nbeginning; which is, in effect, to say, let it be _uniform_:\u201d which\napparently destroys the latter part of the precept, and makes it an\nunmeaning tautology with the former.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n127. AUT SIBI CONSTET.] The ELECTRA and IPHIGENIA of Euripides have\nbeen quoted, in the preceding note, as instances of _ununiform_\ncharacters, justly sustained, or what Aristotle calls, _uniformly\nununiform_: And this, though the general opinion condemns the one,\nand the great critic himself, the other; the reader will expect some\naccount to be given of this singularity.\n\n\n1. The objection to Electra, is, that her character is drawn with\nsuch heightenings of implacability and resentment, as make it utterly\nincredible, she should, immediately on the murder of Clyt\u00e6mnestra, fall\ninto the same excess of grief and regret, as Orestes. In confutation\nof this censure I observe, 1. That the objection proceeds on a mistaken\npresumption, that the distress of Electra is equally violent with that\nof Orestes. On the contrary, it is discriminated from it by two plain\nmarks. 1. Orestes\u2019s grief is expressed in stronger and more emphatic\nterms\u2014_he accuses the Gods\u2014he reproaches his sister\u2014he dwells upon\nevery horrid circumstance, that can inhance the guilt of the murder_.\nElectra, in the mean time, _confesses the scene to be mournful\u2014is\napprehensive of bad consequences\u2014calmly submits to the just reproaches\nof her brother_. 2. He labours as much as possible, to clear himself\nfrom the imputation of the act. She takes it wholly on herself, but,\nregarding it rather as her fate, than her fault, comforts herself in\nreflecting on the justice of it.\n\n    \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c4\u03b9\u03c3\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u03af\u03c9\u03c2.\n                        Act v.\n\nThis last circumstance puts the widest difference between the two\ncases. The one shews a perfect distraction of mind, which cannot even\nbear the consciousness of its crimes: the other, a firm and steddy\nspirit, sensible indeed to its misery, but not oppressed or astonished\nby it.\n\n\n2. But this measure of grief, so delicately marked, and, with such\ntruth of character, ascribed to Electra, ought not, it is further\ninsisted, to have shewn itself, immediately, on the murder of\nClyt\u00e6mnestra. But why not? There is nothing in the _character of\nElectra_, _the maxims of those times_, or _in the disposition of the\ndrama itself_, to render this change improper or incredible. On the\ncontrary, there is much under each of these heads, to lead one to\nexpect it.\n\n1. _Electra\u2019s character_ is indeed that of a fierce, and determined,\nbut withal of a generous and virtuous woman. Her motives to revenge\nwere, principally, a strong sense of justice, and superior affection\nfor a father; not a rooted, unnatural aversion to a mother. She acted,\nas appears, not from the perturbation of a tumultuous revenge (in\nthat case indeed the objection had been of weight) but from a fixed\nabhorrence of wrong, and a virtuous sense of duty. And what should\nhinder a person of this character from being instantly touched with the\ndistress of such a spectacle?\n\n2. _The maxims of those times also favour this conduct._ For, 1. The\nnotions of strict remunerative justice were then carried very high.\nThis appears from the _Lex talionis_, which, we know, was in great\ncredit in elder Greece; from whence it was afterwards transferred into\nthe Law of the XII Tables. Hence _blood for blood_ [\u03b1\u1f37\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f35\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2,\u2014as the messenger, in his account of the death of \u00c6gysthus,\nexpresses it, Act iv.] was the command and rule of justice. This the\nChorus, as well as the parricides, frequently insist upon, as the\nground and justification of the murder. 2. This severe vengeance on\nenormous offenders was believed, not only consonant to the rules of\n_human_, but to be the object, and to make the especial care of the\n_divine_, justice. And thus the ancients conceived of this very case.\n_Juvenal_, speaking of Orestes,\n\n    _Quippe ille_ DEIS AUCTORIBUS _ultor\n    Patris erat c\u00e6si media inter pocula_.\n                                Sat. viii.\n\nAnd to this opinion agrees that tradition, or rather fiction, of the\npoets, who, though they represent the judges of the Areopagus as\ndivided in their sentiments of this matter, yet make no scruple of\nbringing in Minerva herself to pronounce his absolution. _Hoc etiam\nfictis fabulis doctissimi homines memori\u00e6 prodiderunt, eum, qui patris\nulciscendi caus\u00e2 matrem necavisset, variatis hominum sententiis, non\nsolum divin\u00e2, sed etiam sapientissim\u00e6 De\u00e6 sententi\u00e2 absolutum_ [CIC.\npro MILON.] The venerable council of Areopagus, when judging by the\nsevere rules of _written_ justice, it seems, did not condemn the\ncriminal; and the _unwritten_ law of equity, which the fable calls\nthe _wisdom of Pallas_, formally _acquitted_ him. The murder then was\nnot against _human_, and directly agreeable to the determinations of\n_divine_, justice. Of this too the Chorus takes care to inform us:\n\n    \u039d\u03ad\u03bc\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03b1\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f45\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03c4\u03cd\u03c7\u1fc3.\n                      Act. iv.\n\nThis explains the reason of Electra\u2019s question to Orestes, who had\npleaded the impiety of murdering a mother,\n\n    \u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f00\u03bc\u03cd\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1f76, \u03b4\u03c5\u03c3\u03c3\u03b5\u03b2\u1f74\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c3\u1fc3;\n\nthe force of which lies in this, that a father\u2019s death revenged upon\nthe guilty mother, was equally _pious_ as just. 3. This vengeance was,\nof course, to be executed by the nearest relations of the deceased.\nThis the law prescribed in judicial prosecutions. Who then so fit\ninstruments of fate, when that justice was precluded to them? This is\nexpressed, in answer to the plea of Orestes, that he should suffer the\nvengeance of the Gods for the murder of his mother; Electra replies,\n\n    \u03a4\u1ff7 \u03b4\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u1ff4\u03b1\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bc\u03b5\u03b8\u1fc7\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03c9\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03bd;\n\ni. e. Who then shall repay vengeance to our father? She owns the\nconsequence, yet insists on the duty of incurring it. There was no\nother, to whom the right of vengeance properly belonged.\n\n4. Further the pagan doctrine of fate was such, that, in order to\ndischarge duty in one respect, it was unavoidable to incur guilt, in\nanother. This was the case here, Ph\u0153bus commanded and fate had decreed:\nyet obedience was a crime, to be expiated by future punishment. This\nmay seem strange to us, who have other notions of these matters, but\nwas perfectly according to the pagan system. The result is, that they\nknowingly exposed themselves to vengeance, in order to fulfil their\nfate. All that remained was to lament their destiny, and revere the\nawful and mysterious providence of their Gods. And this is, exactly,\nwhat Orestes pleads, in vindication of himself, elsewhere:\n\n    \u1f08\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f61\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03b5\u1f56, \u03bc\u1f74 \u03bb\u03b5\u03b3\u2019, \u03b5\u1f34\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5,\n    \u1f29\u03bc\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u03b5\u1f50\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03c9\u03c2.\n                            Orest. Act. ii.\n\n5. Lastly, it should be remembered, how heinous a crime adultery\nwas esteemed in the old world; when, as well as murder, we find\nit punished with death. The law of the XII Tables expressly says,\nADVLTERII CONVICTAM VIR ET COGNATI, VTI VELINT, NECANTO. Now, all these\nconsiderations put together, Electra might assist at the assassination\nof her mother, consistently with the strongest feelings of piety and\naffection. That these then should instantly break forth, so soon as the\ndebt to justice, to duty, and to fate was paid, is nothing wonderful.\nAnd this, by the way, vindicates the Chorus from the inconsistency,\nby some charged upon it, in condemning the act, when done, which\nbefore they had laboured to justify. The common answer, \u201cThat the\nChorus follows the character of the people,\u201d is insufficient. For\n(besides that the Chorus always sustains a moral character) whence that\ninconsistency in the people themselves? The reason was, the popular\ncreed of those times. It had been an omission of duty to have declined,\nit was criminal to execute, the murder.\n\n3. The disposition of the drama (whether the most judicious, or\nnot, is not the question) was calculated to introduce this change\nwith the greatest probability. Electra\u2019s principal resentment was\nto \u00c6gysthus. From him chiefly proceeded her ill treatment, and from\nhim was apprehended the main danger of the enterprize. Now, \u00c6gysthus\nbeing taken off in the beginning of the preceding act, there was time\nto indulge all the movements and gratulations of revenge, which the\nobjection supposes should precede, and for a while suspend the horrors\nof remorse, before they come to the murder of Clyt\u00e6mnestra. This is\nrendered the more likely by the long parley, that goes before it; which\nrather tends to soften, than exasperate, her resentments, and seems\nartfully contrived to prepare the change, that follows.\n\nOn the whole, Electra\u2019s concern, as managed by the poet, is agreeable\nto the tenor of her character, and the circumstances of her situation.\nTo have drawn her otherwise, had been perhaps in the taste of modern\ntragedy, but had certainly been beside the line of nature, and practice\nof the ancients.\n\nII. The case of Iphigenia, though a greater authority stand in the way,\nis still easier. Aristotle\u2019s words are, \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u1f72 \u1f00\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 [\u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1]\n\u1f21 \u1f10\u03bd \u0391\u1f50\u03bb\u03af\u03b4\u03b9 \u1f38\u03c6\u03b9\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1. \u039f\u1f50\u03b4\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f14\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd \u1f21 \u1f31\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1 \u03c4\u1fc7 \u1f51\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u1fb3, i. e.\n\u201cIphigenia is an instance of the inconsistent character: for there is\nno probable conformity betwixt her fears and supplications at first,\nand her firmness and resolution afterwards.\u201d But how doth this appear,\nindependently of the name of this great critic? Iphigenia is drawn\nindeed, at first, fearful and suppliant: and surely with the greatest\nobservance of nature. The account of her destination to the altar was\nsudden, and without the least preparation; and, as Lucretius well\nobserves, in commenting her case, NUBENDI TEMPORE IN IPSO; when her\nthoughts were all employed, and, according to the simplicity of those\ntimes, confessed to be so, on her promised nuptials. The cause of such\ndestination too, as appeared at first, was the private family interest\nof Menelaus. All this justifies, or rather demands, the strongest\nexpression of female fear and weakness. \u201cBut she afterwards recants\nand voluntarily devotes herself to the altar.\u201d And this, with the\nsame strict attention to probability. She had now informed herself of\nthe importance of the case. Her devotement was the demand of Apollo,\nand the joint petition of all Greece. The glory of her country, the\ndignity and interest of her family, the life of the generous Achilles,\nand her own future fame, were, all, nearly concerned in it. All this\nconsidered, together with the high, heroic sentiments of those times,\nand the superior merit, as was believed, of voluntary devotement,\nIphigenia\u2019s character must have been very unfit for the distress of\na whole tragedy to turn upon, if she had not, in the end, discovered\nthe readiest submission to her appointment. But, to shew with what\nwonderful propriety the poet knew to sustain his characters, we find\nher, after all, and notwithstanding the heroism of the change, in a\nstrong and passionate apostrophe to her native Mycen\u00e6, confessing some\ninvoluntary apprehensions and regrets, the remains of that instinctive\nabhorrence of death, which had before so strongly possessed her.\n\n    \u1f1c\u03b8\u03c1\u03b5\u03c8\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ad\u03b3\u03b1 \u03c6\u03ac\u03bf\u03c2\u2014\n    \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b4\u2019 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n    Once the bright star of Greece\u2014\n    But I submit to die.\n\nThis, I take to be not only a full vindication of the consistency of\nIphigenia\u2019s character, but as delicate a stroke of nature, as is,\nperhaps, to be found in any writer.\n\nAfter the writing of this note, I was pleased to find, that so sensible\na critic, as P. Brumoi, had been before me in these sentiments\nconcerning the character of Iphigenia. The reasons he employs, are\nnearly the same. Only he confirms them all by shewing, that the\nIphigenia of Racine, which is modelled, not according to the practice\nof Euripides, but the Comment of Aristotle, is, in all respects, so\nmuch the worse for it. In justice to this ingenious writer, it should\nbe owned, that he is almost the only one of his nation, who hath\nperfectly seen through the foppery, or, as some affect to esteem it,\nthe refinement of French manners. This hath enabled him to give us, in\nhis _Th\u00e9atre des Grecs_, a masterly and very useful view of the Greek\nstage; set forth in all its genuine simplicity, and defended on the\nsure principles of nature and common sense.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n128. DIFFICILE EST PROPRIE COMMUNIA DICERE: Lambin\u2019s Comment is\n_Communia hoc loco appellat Horatius argumenta fabularum \u00e0 nullo\nadhuc tractata: et ita, qu\u00e6 cuivis exposita sunt et in medio\nquodammodo posita, quasi vacua et \u00e0 nemine occupata_. And that this\nis the true meaning of _communia_ is evidently fixed by the words\n_ignota indictaque_, which are explanatory of it: so that the sense,\ngiven it in the commentary, is unquestionably the right one. Yet,\nnotwithstanding the clearness of the case, a late critic hath this\nstrange passage: _Difficile quidem esse proprie communia dicere, hoc\nest, materiam vulgarem, notam, et \u00e8 medio petitam ita immutare atque\nexornare, ut nova et scriptori propria videatur, ultro concedimus; et\nmaximi proculdubio ponderis ista est observatio. Sed omnibus utrinque\ncollatis, et tum difficilis, tum venusti, tam judicii quam ingenii\nratione habita, major videtur esse gloria fabulam formare penitus\nnovam, quam veterem, utcunque mutatam, de novo exhibere._ [Poet. Pr\u00e6l.\nv. ii. p. 164.] Where having first, put a wrong construction on the\nword _communia_, he imploys it to introduce an impertinent criticism.\nFor where does the poet prefer the glory of refitting _old_ subjects,\nto that of inventing new ones? The contrary is implied in what he urges\nabout the superior difficulty of the latter; from which he dissuades\nhis countrymen, only in respect of their abilities and inexperience in\nthese matters; and in order to cultivate in them, which is the main\nview of the Epistle, a spirit of correctness, by sending them to the\nold subjects, treated by the Greek writers.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n131. PUBLICA MATERIES PRIVATI JURIS ERIT, &c.] _Publica materies_\nis just the reverse of what the poet had before stiled _communia_;\nthe latter meaning such subjects or characters, as, though by their\nnature left in common to all, had yet, in fact, not been _occupied_\nby any writer\u2014the former those, which had already been made _public_\nby _occupation_. In order to acquire a property in subjects of this\nsort, the poet directs us to observe the three following cautions: 1.\n_Not to follow the trite, obvious round of the original work_, i. e.\nnot servilely and scrupulously to adhere to its plan or method. 2.\n_Not to be translators, instead of imitators_, i. e. if it shall be\nthought fit to imitate more expressly any part of the original, to do\nit with freedom and spirit, and without a slavish attachment to the\nmode of expression. 3. _Not to adopt any particular incident, that may\noccur in the proposed model, which either decency or the nature of the\nwork would reject._ M. Dacier illustrates these rules, which have been\nconceived to contain no small difficulty, from the Iliad; to which the\npoet himself refers, and probably not without an eye to particular\ninstances of the errors, here condemned, in the Latin tragedies. For\nwant of these, it may be of use to fetch an illustration from some\nexamples in our own. And we need not look far for them. Almost every\nmodern play affords an instance of one or other of these faults. The\nsingle one of Catiline by B. Jonson is, itself, a specimen of them all.\nThis tragedy, which hath otherwise great merit, and on which its author\nappears to have placed no small value, is, in fact, the Catilinarian\nwar of Sallust, put into poetical dialogue, and so offends against the\n_first_ rule of the poet, _in following too servilely the plain beaten\nround of the Chronicle_. 2. Next, the speeches of Cicero and Catiline,\nof Cato and C\u00e6sar are, all of them, direct and literal translations\nof the historian and orator, in violation of the _second_ rule, which\nforbids _a too close attachment to the mode, or form of expression_.\n3. There are several transgressions of that rule, which injoins _a\nstrict regard to the nature and genius of the work_. One is obvious\nand striking. In the history, which had, for its subject, the whole\nCatilinarian war, the fates of the conspirators were distinctly to be\nrecorded, and the preceding debates, concerning the manner of their\npunishment, afforded an occasion, too inviting to be overlooked by an\nhistorian, and above all a republican historian, of embellishing his\nnarration by set harangues. Hence the long speeches of C\u00e6sar and Cato\nin the senate have great propriety, and are justly esteemed among the\nleading beauties of that work. But the case was totally different in\nthe drama; which, taking for its subject the single fate of Catiline,\nhad no concern with the other conspirators, whose fates at most should\nonly have been hinted at, not debated with all the circumstance and\npomp of rhetoric on the stage. Nothing can be more flat and disgusting,\nthan this calm, impertinent pleading; especially in the very heat\nand winding up of the plot. But the poet was misled by the beauty it\nappeared to have in the original composition, without attending to the\npeculiar laws of the drama, and the _indecorum_ it must needs have in\nso very different a work.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n136. NEC SIC INCIPIES, UT SCRIPTOR CYCLICUS OLIM:] All this [to v. 153]\nis a continuation of the poet\u2019s advice, given above,\n\n    _Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus\n    Quam si proferres ignota indictaque primus_.\n\nFor, having first shewn in what respects a close observance of the epic\nform would be vicious in tragedy, he now prescribes how far it may be\nusefully admitted. And this is, 1. [from 136 to 146] in the simplicity\nand modesty of the exordium; and, 2. [to v. 153] in the artificial\nmethod and contexture of the piece. 1. The reason of the former rule is\nfounded on the impropriety of raising a greater expectation, at setting\nout, than can afterwards be answered by the sequel of the poem. But,\nbecause the epic writers themselves, from whom this conduct was to be\ndrawn, had sometimes transgressed this rule, and as the example of such\nan error would be likely to infect, and, in all probability, actually\ndid infect, the tragic poets of that time, he takes occasion, 1. to\ncriticize an absurd instance of it; and, 2. to oppose to it the wiser\npractice of Homer.\n\n2. The like conduct he observes under the second article. For, being\nto recommend to the tragic writer such an artificial disposition\nof his subject, as _hastens rapidly to the event_, and rejects, as\nimpertinent, all particulars in the round of the story, which would\nunnecessarily obstruct his course to it\u2014a plan essentially necessary\nto the legitimate epic\u2014he first glances at the injudicious violation\nof this method in a certain poem on _the return of_ Diomed, and then\nillustrates and lays open the superior art and beauty of the Iliad. And\nall this, as appears, for the sole purpose of explaining and enforcing\nthe precept about forming the plots of tragedies from epic poems.\nWhence we see, how properly the examples of the errors, here condemned,\nare taken, not from the _drama_, as the less attentive reader might\nexpect, but solely from the epos; for, _this_ being made the object\nof imitation to the dramatic poet, as the tenor of the place shews,\nit became necessary to guard against the influence of bad models.\nWhich I observe for the sake of those, who, from not apprehending the\nconnection of this and such like passages in the epistle, hastily\nconclude it to be a confused medley of precepts concerning the art of\npoetry, in general; and not a regular well-conducted piece, uniformly\ntending to lay open the state, and to remedy the defects, of the Roman\nstage.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n148. SEMPER AD EVENTUM FESTINAT; &c.] The disposition, here recommended\nto the poet, might be shewn _universally_ right from the clearest\nprinciples. But the propriety and beauty of it will, perhaps, be best\napprehended by such, as are unused to the more abstract criticism,\nfrom attending to a _particular_ instance. Let us conceive an objector\nthen to put the following query: \u201cSupposing the author of the \u00c6neis\nto have related, in the natural order, the destruction of Troy, would\nnot the subject have been, to all intents and purposes, as much _one_,\nas it is under its present form; in which that event is told, in the\nsecond book, by way of episode?\u201d I answer by no means. The reason\nis taken from _the nature of the work_, and from _the state and\nexpectations of the reader_.\n\n1. The _nature of an epic or narrative poem_ is this, that it lays the\nauthor under an obligation of shewing any event, which he formally\nundertakes in his own person, at full length, and with all its material\ncircumstances. Every figure must be drawn in full proportion, and\nexhibited in strong, glowing colours. Now had the subject of the second\nbook of the \u00c6neis been related, in this extent, it must not only have\ntaken up one, but many books. By this faithful and animated _drawing_,\nand the time it would necessarily have to _play_ upon the imagination,\nthe event had grown into such importance, that the remainder could only\nhave passed for a kind of Appendix to it.\n\n2. The same conclusion is drawn from considering _the state of the\nreader_. For, hurried away by an instinctive impatience, he pursues the\nproposed event with eagerness and rapidity. So circumstantial a detail,\nas was supposed, of an intermediate action not necessarily connected\nwith it, breaks the course of his expectations, and throws forward the\npoint of view to an immoderate distance. In the mean time the action,\nthus interposed and presented to his thoughts, acquires by degrees, and\nat length ingrosses his whole attention. It becomes the important theme\nof the piece; or, at least, what follows sets out with the disadvantage\nof appearing to him, as a new and distinct subject.\n\nBut now being related by way of episode, that is, as a succinct,\nsummary narration, not made by the poet himself, but coming from the\nmouth of a person, necessarily ingaged in the progress of the action,\nit serves for a short time to interrupt, and, by that interruption to\nsharpen, the eager expectation of the reader. It holds the attention,\nfor a while, from the main point of view; yet not long enough to\ndestroy that impatient curiosity, which looks forward to it. And thus\nit contributes to the same end, as a piece of miniature, properly\nintroduced into a large picture. It amuses the eye with something\nrelative to the painter\u2019s design, yet not so, as to with-hold its\nprincipal observation from falling on the greater subject. The parallel\nwill not hold very exactly, because the painter is, of necessity,\nconfined to the same _instant_ of time; but it may serve for an\nillustration of my meaning. Suppose the painter to take, for his\nsubject, that part of \u00c6neas\u2019s story, where, with his _penates_, his\n_father_, and his _son_, he is preparing to set sail for Italy. To\ndraw _Troy in flames_, as a constituent part of this picture, would be\nmanifestly absurd. It would be painting two subjects, instead of one.\nAnd perhaps _Troja incensa_ might seize the attention before\n\n    _Ascanium Anchisenque patrem Teucrosque penates_.\n\nBut a distant perspective of _burning Troy_ might be thrown into a\ncorner of the piece, that is, episodically, with good advantage; where,\ninstead of distracting the attention, and breaking the unity of the\nsubject, it would concenter, as it were, with the great design, and\nhave an effect in augmenting the distress of it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n153. TU, QUID EGO ET POPULUS, &c.] The connexion is this. \u201cBut though\nthe strict observance of these rules will enable the poet to conduct\nhis _plot_ to the best advantage, yet this is not _all_ which is\nrequired to a _perfect_ tragedy. If he would seize the attention,\nand secure the applause, of the audience, something further must be\nattempted. He must (to return to the point, from which I digressed, v.\n127) be particularly studious to express the _manners_. Besides the\npeculiarities of _office_, _temper_, _condition_, _country_, &c. before\nconsidered, all which require to be drawn with the utmost fidelity, a\nsingular attention must be had to the characteristic differences of\n_age_.\u201d\n\n    _\u00c6tatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores._\n\nThe reason of this conduct is given in the commentary. It further\nserves to adorn this part of the epistle [which is wholly preceptive\nfrom v. 89 to 202] with those beautiful pourtraitures of human life,\nin its several successive stages, which nature and Aristotle had\ninstructed him so well to paint.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n157. MOBILIBUSQUE DECOR NATURIS DANDUS ET ANNIS.] MOBILIBUS] _non\nlevibus aut inconstantibus, sed qu\u00e6 variatis \u00e6tatibus immutantur_.\nLambin. NATURIS] By this word is not meant, simply, that instinctive\n_natural_ biass, implanted in every man, to this or that character,\nbut, in general, _nature_, as it appears diversified in the different\nperiods of life. The sense will be: A certain _decorum_ or propriety\nmust be observed in painting the natures or dispositions of men varying\nwith their years.\n\nThere is then no occasion for changing the text, with Dr. Bentley, into\n\n    _Mobilibusque decor, maturis dandus et annis_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n179. AUT AGITUR RES IN SCENIS, AUT ACTA REFERTUR: &c.] The connexion\nis this. The _misapplication_, just now mentioned, destroys the\n_credibility_. This puts the poet in mind of another misconduct, which\nhath the same effect, viz. _intus digna geri promere in scenam_.\nBut, before he makes this observation, it was proper to premise a\n_concession_ to prevent mistakes, viz.\n\n    _Segnius irritant animos_, &c.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n182. NON TAMEN INTUS DIGNA GERI PROMES IN SCENAM:] I know not a more\nstriking example of the transgression of this rule, than in Seneca\u2019s\nHippolytus; where Theseus is made to weep over the mangled members\nof his son, which he attempts to put together on the stage. This,\nwhich has so horrid an appearance in the _action_, might have been so\ncontrived, as to have an infinite beauty in the _narration_; as may be\nseen from a similar instance in Xenophon\u2019s Cyrop\u00e6dia, where Panthea is\nrepresented putting together the torn limbs of Abradates.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n185. NE PUEROS CORAM POPULO, &c.] Seneca, whom we before [v. 123]\nsaw so sollicitous to keep up to one rule of Horace, here makes no\nscruple to transgress another. For, in violation of the very letter\nof this precept, and of all the laws of decency and common sense, he\nrepresents Medea butchering her children in the face of the people;\nand, as if this too faintly painted the fury of her character, he\nfurther aggravates the cruelty of the execution, with all the horrors\nof a lingering act. This, seemingly inconsistent, conduct of the poet\nwas, in truth, owing to one and the same cause, namely, \u201cThe endeavour\nto sustain Medea\u2019s character.\u201d For, wanting true taste to discern the\nexact boundaries, which nature had prescribed to the human character,\nor true genius to support him in a due preservation of it, he, as all\nbad writers use, for fear of doing too little, unfortunately does too\nmuch; and so, as Shakespear well expresses it, _o\u2019ersteps the modesty\nof nature_, inflating her _sentiments_ with extravagant passion, and\nblackening her _acts_ with circumstances of unnatural horror. Though\nsome of these faults I suspect he only copied. For, to say nothing of\n_that_ of Ennius, Ovid\u2019s Medea was, at this time, very famous, and\nas, I think, may be collected from the judgment passed upon it by\nQuinctilian, had some of the vices, here charged upon Seneca. _Ovidii\nMedea_, says he, _videtur mihi ostendere, quantum vir ille pr\u00e6stare\npotuerit, si ingenio suo temperare, qu\u00e0m indulgere, maluisset_. It\nis not possible indeed to say exactly, wherein this _intemperance_\nconsisted; but it is not unlikely, that, amongst other things, it might\nshew itself in the sorceries and incantations; a subject, intirely\nsuited to the wildness of Ovid\u2019s genius; and which, as appears from\nhis relation of this story in the metamorphosis, he knew not how to\ntreat without running into some excess and luxuriance in that part. But\nwhether this were the cause, or no, the very treating a subject, which\nhad gone through such hands, as Euripides, Ennius, and Ovid, was enough\nto expose a writer of better judgment, than Seneca, to some hazard.\nFor, in attempting to outdo originals, founded on the plan of simple\nnature, a writer is in the utmost danger of running into affectation\nand bombast. And indeed, without this temptation, our writers have\ngenerally found means to incur these excesses; the very best of them\nbeing too apt to fill their plots with unnatural incidents, and to\nheighten their characters into caracatures. Though it may be doubted,\nwhether this hath been owing so much to their own ill taste, as to\na vicious compliance with that of the public; for, as one says, who\nwell knew the expediency of this craft, and practised accordingly, _to\nwrite unnatural things is the most probable way of pleasing them who\nunderstand not nature_. [Dryd. Pref. to Mock Astrol.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n193. ACTORIS PARTES CHORUS, &c.] See also _Aristotle_ [\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4.\n\u03ba. \u03b9\u03b7\u02b9.] The judgment of two such critics, and the practice of wise\nantiquity concurring to establish this precept concerning the Chorus,\nit should thenceforth, one would think, have become a fundamental rule\nand maxim of the stage. And so indeed it appeared to some few writers.\nThe most admired of the French tragic poets ventured to introduce it\ninto two of his latter plays, and with such success, that, as one\nobserves, _It should, in all reason, have disabused his countrymen\non this head: l\u2019essai heureux de M. Racine, qui les [ch\u0153urs] a fait\nrevivre dans_ ATHALIE _et dans_ ESTHER, _devroit, ce semble, nous\navoir detrompez sur cet article_. [P. Brumoi, vol. i. p. 105.] And,\nbefore him, our _Milton_, who, with his other great talents, possessed\na supreme knowledge of antiquity, was so struck with its use and\nbeauty, as to attempt to bring it into our language. His _Sampson\nAgonistes_ was, as might be expected, a master-piece. But even his\ncredit hath not been sufficient to restore the Chorus. Hear a late\nProfessor of the art declaring, _De choro nihil disserui, quia non\nest essentialis dramati, atque \u00e0 neotericis penitus_, ET, ME JUDICE,\nMERITO, REPUDIATUR. [Pr\u00e6l. Poet. vol. ii. p. 188.] Whence it hath come\nto pass, that the chorus hath been thus neglected, is not now the\ninquiry. But that this critic, and all such are greatly out in their\njudgments when they presume to censure it in the ancients, must appear\n(if we look no further) from the double use, insisted on by the poet.\nFor, 1. A _chorus_ interposing, and bearing a part in the progress\nof the action, gives the representation that _probability_[14], and\nstriking resemblance of real life, which every man of sense perceives\nand _feels_ the want of upon our stage; a want, which nothing but such\nan expedient as the chorus can possibly relieve. And, 2. The importance\nof its other office [v. 196] to the _utility_ of the representation,\nis so great, that, in a moral view, nothing can compensate for this\ndeficiency. For it is necessary to the truth and decorum of characters,\nthat the _manners_, bad as well as good, be drawn in strong, vivid\ncolours, and to that end that immoral sentiments, forcibly expressed\nand speciously maintained, be sometimes _imputed_ to the speakers.\nHence the sound philosophy of the chorus will be constantly wanting\nto rectify the wrong conclusions of the audience, and prevent the ill\nimpressions that might otherwise be made upon it. Nor let any one\nsay, that the audience is well able to do this for itself: Euripides\ndid not find even an Athenian theatre so quick-sighted. The story is\nwell known [Sen. Ep. 115.] that when this painter of the _manners_ was\nobliged, by the rules of his art, and the character to be sustained,\nto put a run of bold sentiments in the mouth of one of his persons,\nthe people instantly took fire, charging the poet with the _imputed_\nvillany, as though it had been his _own_. Now if such an audience could\nso easily misinterpret an attention to the truth of character into the\nreal doctrine of the poet, and this too, when a chorus was at hand\nto correct and disabuse their judgments, what must be the case, when\nthe _whole_ is left to the sagacity and penetration of the people?\nThe wiser sort, \u2019tis true, have little need of this information. Yet\nthe reflexions of sober sense on the course and occurrences of the\nrepresentation, clothed in the noblest dress of poetry, and inforced\nby the joint powers of _harmony_ and _action_ (which is the true\ncharacter of the chorus) might make it, even to such, a not unpleasant\nor unprofitable entertainment. But these _two_ are a small part of the\n_uses_ of the chorus: which in every light is seen so important to the\ntruth, decorum, and dignity of the tragic scene, that the _modern_\nstage, which hath not thought proper to adopt it, is even, with the\nadvantage of, sometimes, the justest moral painting and sublimest\nimagery, but a very faint shadow of the _old_; as must needs appear\nto those, who have looked into the ancient models, or, divesting\nthemselves of modern prejudices, are disposed to consult the dictates\nof plain sense. For the use of such I once designed to have drawn into\none view the several important benefits, arising to the drama from\nthe observance of this rule, but have the pleasure to find myself\nprevented by a sensible dissertation of a good French writer, which the\nreader will find _in the_ VIII _Tom. of the history of the Academy of\nInscriptions and Belles Lettres_.\u2014Or, it may be sufficient to refer\nthe English Reader to the late tragedies of ELFRIDA and CARACTACUS;\nwhich do honour to modern poetry, and are a better apology, than any I\ncould make, for the ancient chorus.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n193. OFFICIUMQUE VIRILE] Heinsius takes _virile_ adverbially for\n_viriliter_. But this is thought harsh. What hinders, but that it may\nbe taken _adjectively_? And then, agreeably to his interpretation,\n_officium virile_ will mean a strenuous, diligent office, such as\nbecomes a person interested in the progress of the action. The precept\nis leveled against the practice of those poets, who, though they allot\nthe part of a _persona dramatis_ to the _chorus_, yet for the most part\nmake it so idle and insignificant an one, as is of little consequence\nin the representation: by which means the advantage of _probability_,\nintended to be drawn from this use of the _chorus_, is, in great\nmeasure, lost.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n194. NEU QUID MEDIOS INTERCINAT ACTUS, QUOD NON PROPOSITO CONDUCAT\nET HAEREAT APTE.] How necessary this advice might be to the writers\nof the Augustan age cannot certainly appear; but, if the practice of\nSeneca may give room for any suspicion, it should seem to have been\nmuch wanted; in whom I scarcely believe there is one single instance\nof the chorus being employed in a manner, consonant to its true end\nand character. To support this general censure, which may seem to bear\nhard on the poet, let us examine, in this view, one of the best of his\nplays, I mean, the Hippolytus; whose chorus, throughout, bears a very\nidle and uninteresting part\u2014hath no share in the action\u2014and sings\nimpertinently.\n\nAt the end of the _first_ act, when Ph\u00e6dra had avowed her passion\nfor Hippolytus, instead of declaiming against her horrid purpose,\nenlarging on the danger and impiety of giving way to unnatural lusts,\nor something of this nature, which was surely the office of the chorus,\nit expatiates wantonly, and with a poetic luxuriance, on the sovereign,\nwide-extended powers of love.\n\nIn the close of the _second_ act, instead of applauding the virtuous\nobstinacy of Hippolytus, and execrating the mad attempt of Ph\u00e6dra, it\ncoolly sings the danger of beauty.\n\nThe _third_ act contains the false accusation of Hippolytus, and the\ntoo easy deception of Theseus. What had the chorus to do here, but\nto warn against a too great credulity, and to commiserate the case\nof the deluded father? Yet it declaims, in general, on the unequal\ndistribution of _good_ and _ill_.\n\nAfter the _fourth_ act, the chorus should naturally have bewailed the\nfate of Hippolytus, and reverenced the mysterious conduct of Providence\nin suffering the cruel destiny of the innocent. This, or something like\nit, would have been to the purpose. But, as if the poet had never heard\nof this rule of _coherence_, he harangues, in defiance of common sense,\non the instability of an high fortune, and the security of a low.\n\nIt will further justify this censure of _Seneca_, and be some amusement\nto the critical reader, to observe, how the several blunders, here\ncharged upon him, arose from an injudicious imitation of _Euripides_.\n\nI. There are two places in the Greek Hippolytus, which Seneca seems to\nhave had in view in his first chorus. We will consider them both.\n\n1. When the unhappy Ph\u00e6dra at length suffers the fatal secret of her\npassion to be extorted from her, she falls, as was natural, into all\nthe horrors of self-detestation, and determines not to survive the\nconfession of so black a crime. In this conjuncture, the _nutrix_, who\nis not drawn, as in modern tragedy, an unmeaning confidante, the mere\ndepositary of the poet\u2019s secrets, but has real manners assigned to\nher, endeavours, with the highest beauty of character, to divert these\nhorrid intentions, and mitigate in some sort the guilt of her passion,\nby representing to her the resistless and all-subduing force of love.\n\u201cVenus, says this virtuous _monitrix_, is not to be withstood, when she\nrushes upon us with all her power. Nor is any part of creation vacant\nfrom her influence. She pervades the air, and glides through the deeps.\nWe, the inhabitants of the earth, are all subject to her dominion.\nNay, ask of the ancient bards, and they will tell you, that the Gods\nthemselves are under her controul.\u201d And so goes on, enumerating\nparticular examples, from all which she infers at last the necessity of\nPh\u00e6dra\u2019s yielding to her fate. Again,\n\n2. Towards the close of the Greek play, when, upon receiving the\ntragical story of his son\u2019s sufferings, Theseus began to feel his\nresentments give way to the workings of paternal affection, and, on\nthat account, though he was willing to conceal the true motive, even\nfrom himself, had given orders for the dying Hippolytus to be brought\nbefore him, the chorus very properly flings out into that fine address\nto Venus,\n\n    \u03a3\u1f7a \u03c4\u1f70\u03bd \u03b8\u03b5\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f04\u03ba\u03b1\u03bc\u03c0\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1, &c.\n\nthe substance of which is, \u201cThat Venus, with her swift-winged boy, who\ntraverses the earth and ocean, subdues the stubborn hearts of Gods\nand men: inspiring into all, on whom her influence rests, whether\ninhabitants of the land or deep, and more especially the race of man, a\nsoft and sympathizing tenderness; demonstrating hereby, that she alone\nextends her all-controuling dominion over universal nature.\u201d This\nsong, as thus connected with the occasion, is apparently very proper,\nand, when reduced from the pomp of lyric eloquence to plain prose, is\nonly an address of congratulation to the powers of love; confessing and\ncelebrating their influence, in thus softening the rigors of a father\u2019s\nhate, and awakening in his breast the soft touches of returning pity\nand affection.\n\nNow these two places, taken together, are plainly the ground-work of\nthat song,\n\n    _Diva, non miti generata ponto_, &c.\n\nbut how improperly applied, has appeared, in respect of the latter\nof them, from what has been observed concerning the _occasion_; and\nmust be acknowledged of the other, from the different _character_ of\nthe person to whom it is given; and also from hence, that the chorus\nin the Greek poet expressly condemns the impiety of such suggestions\nin the nurse, and admonishes Ph\u00e6dra not to lend an ear to them. The\nchorus, when it comes to sing in him, is far otherwise employed; not in\ncelebrating the triumphs, but deprecating the pernicious fury of this\npassion, and in lamenting the fatal miscarriages of Hymeneal love.\n\nII. The second song, on the graces of the prince\u2019s person, and the\ndanger of beauty, which follows on the abrupt departure of Hippolytus,\nrejecting, with a virtuous disdain, the mad attempts of Ph\u00e6dra and her\nconfidante, is so glaringly improper, as not to admit an excuse from\nany example. And yet, I am afraid, the single authority, it has to\nlean on, is a very short hint, slightly dropped by the chorus in the\nGreek poet on a very different occasion. It is in the entrance of that\nscene, where the mangled body of Hippolytus is brought upon the stage;\non the sight of which the chorus very naturally breaks out,\n\n    \u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u1f41 \u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f45\u03b4\u03b5 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\n    \u03a3\u03ac\u03c1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c2 \u03bd\u03b5\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70\u03c2\n    \u039e\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03ac\u03c1\u03b1 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bb\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03b8\u03b5\u03af\u03c2.\n\nand yet, as the reader of just taste perceives, nothing beyond a single\nreflexion could have been endured even here.\n\nIII. The next song of the chorus may seem directly copied from\nEuripides. Yet the two occasions will be found extremely different.\nIn Seneca, Theseus, under the conviction of his son\u2019s guilt, inveighs\nbitterly against him, and at last supplicates the power of Neptune to\navenge his crimes. The chorus, as anticipating the effects of this\nimprecation, arraigns the justice of the Gods. In the Greek poet, the\nfather, under the like circumstances, invokes the same avenging power,\nand, as some immediate relief to his rage, pronounces the sentence\nof banishment, and urges the instant execution of it, against him.\nHippolytus, unable to contend any longer with his father\u2019s fury, breaks\nout into that most tender complaint (than which nothing was ever more\naffecting in tragedy)\n\n    \u1f0c\u03c1\u03b7\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f61\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03b5\u03bd, \u1f66 \u03c4\u03ac\u03bb\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03b3\u03ce. &c.\n\ncontaining his last adieu to his country, companions, and friends. The\nchorus, touched with the pathos of this apostrophe, and commiserating\nhis sad reverse of fortune, enters with him into the same excess\nof lamentation, and, as the first expression of it, lets fall this\nnatural sentiment, \u201cThat though from coolly contemplating the divine\nsuperintendency of human affairs, there results abundant confidence\nand security against the ills of life, yet when we look abroad into\nthe lives and fortunes of men, that confidence is apt to fail us,\nand we find ourselves discouraged and confounded by the promiscuous\nand undistinguishing appointments of _good_ and _ill_.\u201d This is the\nthought, which Seneca hath imitated, and, as his manner is, outraged in\nhis chorus of the third act:\n\n    _O magna parens, Natura, De\u00fbm_, &c.\n\nBut the great difference lies here. That, whereas in _Euripides_ this\nsentiment is proper and agreeable to the state and circumstances of\nthe chorus, which is ever attentive to the progress of the action, and\nis most affected by what immediately presents itself to observation;\nin _Seneca_ it is quite foreign and impertinent; the attention of\nthe chorus naturally turning, not on the distresses of Hippolytus,\nwhich had not yet commenced, but on the rashness and unhappy delusion\nof Theseus, as being that, which had made the whole subject of the\npreceding scene. But the consequence of that delusion, it will be said,\nwas obvious. It may be so. But the chorus, as any sensible spectator,\nis most agitated by such reflexions, as occur to the mind from those\nscenes of the drama, which are actually passing before it, and not from\nthose which have not yet taken place.\n\nIV. What was remarked of the _second_ song of the chorus will be\napplicable to the _fourth_, which is absurdly founded on a single\nreflexion in the Greek poet, but just touched in a couple of lines,\nthough much more naturally introduced. Theseus, plunged in the deepest\naffliction by the immature death of Ph\u00e6dra, and not enduring the sight\nof the supposed guilty author of it, commands him into banishment,\n\u201cLest, as he goes on, his former triumphs and successes against the\ndisturbers of mankind, should in consequence of the impunity of such\nunprecedented crimes, henceforth do him no honour.\u201d The chorus, struck\nwith the distressful situation of the old king, and recollecting with\nhim the sum of his former glories, is made to exclaim,\n\n    \u039f\u1f50\u03ba \u03bf\u1f36\u03b4\u2019 \u1f45\u03c0\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f34\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03bc\u2019 \u1f02\u03bd \u03b5\u1f50\u03c4\u03c5\u03c7\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\n    \u0398\u03bd\u03b7\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\u00b7 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03b4\u1f74 \u03c0\u03c1\u1ff6\u03c4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c0\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03bd.\n\ni. e. _there is henceforth no such thing, as human happiness, when the\nfirst examples of it are thus sadly reversed_. Which casual remark\nSeneca seizes and extends through a whole chorus; where it visibly\nserves to no other end, but to usurp a place, destined for far more\nnatural and affecting sentiments.\n\nIf I have been rather long upon this head, it is because I conceive\nthis critique on the Hippolytus will let the reader, at once, into\nthe true character of _Seneca_; which, he now sees, is that of a mere\n_declamatory moralist_. So little deserving is he of the reputation of\na just dramatic poet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n196. ILLE BONIS FAVEATQUE, &c.] _The chorus_, says the poet, _is to\ntake the side of the good and virtuous_, i. e. is always to sustain a\nmoral character. But this will need some explanation and restriction.\nTo conceive aright of its office, we must suppose the _chorus_ to\nbe a number of persons, by some probable cause assembled together,\nas witnesses and spectators of the great action of the drama. Such\npersons, as they cannot be wholly uninterested in what passes before\nthem, will very naturally bear some share in the representation. This\nwill principally consist in declaring their sentiments, and indulging\ntheir reflexions freely on the several events and distresses as they\nshall arise. Thus we see the _moral_, attributed to the chorus, will be\nno other than the dictates of plain sense; such as must be obvious to\nevery thinking observer of the action, who is under the influence of\nno peculiar partialities from _affection_ or _interest_. Though even\nthese may be supposed in cases, where the character, towards which they\n_draw_, is represented as virtuous.\n\nA chorus, thus constituted, must always, it is evident, take the\npart of virtue; because this is the natural and almost necessary\ndetermination of mankind, in all ages and nations, when acting freely\nand unconstrained. But then it is to be observed,\n\n1. That this moral character, or approbation of virtue, must also\nbe considerably influenced by the common and established notions of\n_right_ and _wrong_; which, though in essential points, for the most\npart, uniformly the same under all circumstances, yet will, in some\nparticular instances, be much distorted by the corrupt principles and\npractices of different countries and times. Hence the _moral_ of the\nstage will not be always strictly philosophical; as reflecting to us\nthe image not of the sage\u2019s speculation, but, of the obvious sense of\ncommon, untutor\u2019d minds. The reader will find this observation applied\nto the case of the _chorus_ in the Medea, in note on v. 200, and it\nmight further, perhaps, be extended to the vindication of some others,\nto which the ignorant temerity of modern criticism hath taken occasion\nto object. But,\n\n2. The _moral character_ of the chorus will not only depend very\nmuch on the several mistaken notions and usages, which may happen,\nunder different circumstances, to corrupt and defile _morality_; but\nallowance is also to be made for the _false policies_, which may\nprevail in different countries; and especially if they constitute any\npart of the subject, which the drama would represent. If the _chorus_\nbe made up of free citizens, whether of a republic, or the milder\nand more equal royalties, they can be under little or no temptation\nto suppress or disguise their real sentiments on the several events,\npresented to their observation; but will be at liberty to pursue their\nnatural inclination of speaking the truth. But should this venerable\nassembly, instead of sustaining the dignity of free subjects, be, in\nfact, a company of slaves, devoted by long use to the service and\ninterests of a master, or awed, by the dread of tyrannical power,\ninto an implicit compliance with his will, the baleful effect, which\nthis very different situation must have on their moral character,\nis evident. Their opinions of persons and things will cease to be\noracular; and the interposition of the _chorus_ will be more likely\nto injure the cause of virtue, than to assist and promote it. Nor can\nany objection be made, on this account, to the conduct of the poet;\nwho keeps to nature and probability in drawing the chorus with this\nimperfectly moral character; and is only answerable for his ill choice\nof a subject, in which such a pernicious representation is required.\nAn instance will explane my meaning more perfectly. The chorus in\nthe _Antigone_, contrary to the rule of Horace, takes the side of\nthe _wicked_. It consists of a number of old Thebans, assembled by\nthe order of Creon to assist, or rather to be present, at a kind of\nmock council; in which he meant to issue his cruel interdict of the\nrites of sepulture to the body of Polynices; a matter of the highest\nconsequence in those days, and upon which the whole distress of the\nplay turns. This veteran troop of vassals enter at once into the\nhorrid views of the tyrant, and obsequiously go along with him in\nthe projects of his cruelty; calmly, and without the appearance of\nany virtuous emotion, consenting to them all. The consequence is that\nthe interludes of the chorus are, for the most part, impertinent, or\nsomething worse; cautiously avoiding such useful reflexions, as the\nnature of the case must suggest, or indulging, by their flatteries,\nthe impotent tyranny of their prince. And yet no blame can be fairly\ncharged upon the great poet, who hath surely represented, in the most\nstriking colours, the pernicious character, which a chorus, under such\ncircumstances, would naturally sustain. The fault must therefore fall,\nwhere the poet manifestly intended to throw it, on the accursed spirit\nof despotism; which extinguishes, or over-rules, the suggestions of\ncommon sense; kills the very seeds of virtue, and perverts the most\nsacred and important offices, such as is that of the chorus, into the\nmeans and instruments of vice. The glory, which he designed, by this\nrepresentation, to reflect upon the government and policy of his own\nstate, is too glaring to be overlooked. And he hath artfully contrived\nto counter-act any ill impressions on the minds of the people, from the\nprostituted authority of the chorus, by charging them, in the persons\nof H\u00e6mon and Antigone, with their real motives and views. In all\nindifferent things, in which the passions or interests of their master\nwere not concerned, even this chorus would of course preserve a moral\ncharacter. But we are to look for it no further. This is the utmost\nverge and boundary of a slave\u2019s virtue. An important truth, which,\namong many greater and more momentous instructions, furnishes this to\nthe dramatic poet, \u201cThat, if he would apply the chorus to the uses of a\nsound and useful moral, he must take his subjects, not from the annals\nof despotic tyranny, but from the great events, which occur in the\nrecords of free and equal commonwealths.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n200. ILLE TEGAT COMMISSA] This important advice is not always easy to\nbe followed. Much indeed will depend on the choice of the subject,\nand the artful constitution of the fable. Yet, with all his care, the\nablest writer will sometimes find himself embarrassed by the chorus.\nI would here be understood to speak chiefly of the moderns. For the\nancients, though it has not been attended to, had some peculiar\nadvantages over us in this respect, resulting from the principles and\npractices of those times. For, as it hath been observed of the ancient\nepic muse, that she borrowed much of her state and dignity from the\nfalse _theology_ of the pagan world, so, I think, it may be justly\nsaid of the ancient tragic, that she has derived great advantages\nof probability from its mistaken _moral_. If there be truth in this\nreflexion, it will help to justify some of the ancient choirs, that\nhave been most objected to by the moderns. To give an instance or two,\nand leave the curious reader to extend the observation at his leisure.\n\nI. In the Hippolytus of Euripides, the chorus, which is let into\nPh\u00e6dra\u2019s design of killing herself, suffers this rash attempt to take\neffect, rather than divulge the intrusted secret. This, to a modern\nreader, seems strange; and we are ready to arraign the poet of having\nallotted a very unfit and unbecoming part to his _chorus_, which,\nin order to observe a _critical_, is thus made to violate a _moral_\nprecept, or at least to sacrifice the more essential part of its\ncharacter to a punctilio of honour. But the case was quite otherwise.\nThis suicide of Ph\u00e6dra, which, on our stricter moral plan, is repugnant\nto the plain rules of duty, was, in the circumstances supposed, fully\njustified on the pagan system. Ph\u00e6dra had confessed the secret of her\ncriminal passion. By the forward zeal of her confident, her disgrace\nis made known to Hippolytus; and thereby, as she conceives, rendered\nnotorious to the public. In this distress she had only one way to\nvindicate her honour, and that was at the expence of her life. Rather\nthan bear the insupportable load of public infamy, she kills herself.\nThat this was a justifiable cause of self-murder in the eye of the\nchorus is clear from the reason, there assigned, of her conduct,\nmanifestly in approbation of it. \u201cPh\u00e6dra, says the chorus, oppressed\nand borne down by her afflictions, has recourse to this expedient of\nsuicide,\n\n      \u03c4\u03ac\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f54\u03b4\u03bf\u03be\u03bf\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\n    \u03a6\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd, \u1f00\u03c0\u03b1\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03ac\n    \u03a4\u2019 \u1f00\u03bb\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u1f78\u03bd \u03c6\u03c1\u03b5\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1.\n\nfor the sake of her good fame, and in order to free herself from\nthe tortures of a cruel passion.\u201d And how agreeable this was to the\npagan system, in general, let the reader collect from the following\ntestimonies in Cicero: _Si omnia fugiend\u00e6 turpitudinis adipiscend\u00e6que\nhonestatis caus\u00e2 faciemus, non modo stimulos doloris, sed etiam\nfulmina fortun\u00e6 contemnamus licebit: pr\u00e6sertim cum paratum sit illud\nex hestern\u00e2 disputatione perfugium. Ut enim, si, cui naviganti\npr\u00e6dones insequantur, Deus quis dixerit, Ejice te navi; pr\u00e6sto est,\nqui excipiat_, &c. _omnem omittas timorem; sic, urgentibus asperis\net odiosis doloribus, si tanti non sint ut ferendi sint, quo sit\nconfugiendum vides._ [Tusc. Disp. l. ii. 26.] And, again, in the close\nof the V^{th} disputation, _Mihi quidem in vita servanda videtur illa\nlex, qu\u00e6 in Gr\u00e6corum conviviis obtinet: Aut bibat, inquit, aut abeat.\nEt recte. Aut enim fruatur aliquis pariter cum aliis voluptate potandi;\naut, ne sobrius in violentiam vinolentorum incidat, ante discedat: sic_\nINJURIAS FORTUN\u00c6, QUAS FERRE NEQUEAS, DEFUGIENDO RELINQUAS.\n\nII. Another example may, I think, be fetched from the _Medea_. Scarcely\nany thing has been more the subject of modern censure, than the\npart, which the chorus is made to act in this tragedy. _Whence comes\nit_, says M. Dacier, _that the chorus, which consists of Corinthian\nwomen, is faithful to a stranger against their sovereign[15]?_ This\ngood Frenchman, it seems, thought it a kind of treason, even on the\nstage, and where a moral character was to be sustained, to take part\nagainst a tyrant. But he will further say, that the moral character\nof the chorus was forfeited in thus concealing, and, in effect,\nabetting the impious cruelties of Medea. _The laws of nature and of\nGod were transgressed in rendering this service to her._ All which is\nvery true, supposing the reader to judge of this matter by the purer\nchristian moral. But how will he prove this to be the case on the\nreceived notions and practices of paganism? It appears, this critic\ndid not apprehend, what a moderate attention to ancient history and\nmanners might have taught him, that the violation of conjugal fidelity\nwas a crime of that high nature, as to deserve in the public opinion,\nand to excuse, the severest vengeance of retaliation. This the laws\nexpresly allowed to the injuries of the husband. And, it is probable,\nthe wife might incline to think the reason of the case extended also\nto her. What is certain is, that we find some of the deepest scenes\nof horror, which ancient history furnishes, or ancient fiction could\npaint, wrought up from the occasion of this neglect of conjugal\nfaith. And it is well observed by one, in speaking of the difference\nbetween the ancient and modern stage, that what is now held the fit\nsubject of comic mirth and ridicule in christian theatres, was never\nemployed but to stir up the utmost horror and commiseration, on the\nheathen. \u201cWe do not find, says this agreeable writer, any comedy in\nso polite an author, as Terence, raised upon the violations of the\nmarriage-bed. The falsehood of the wife or husband has given occasion\nto noble tragedies; but a Scipio and L\u00e6lius would have looked upon\nincest or murder, to have been as proper subjects for comedy.\u201d This\nis strictly and precisely the truth. And, therefore, as the crimes of\nincest or murder were believed deserving of the highest punishment\nby the Pagans, and every good man was ready to interest himself in\nseeing it inflicted[16]; so, in the case of the open violation of the\nmarriage-compact, the fiercest acts of revenge were justified in the\npublic opinion, and passed only for acts of strict justice. And for\nthis, if we wanted further authority, we have the express word of the\nchorus. The Corinthian women do not barely consent to secrecy, in\nvirtue of an extorted oath or promise (though more might have been said\nfor this, than every reader is aware of) but in consequence of their\nentire and full approbation of her intentions. For thus, in answer to\nMedea\u2019s petition to them, without the least reserve or hesitation, they\nare made to reply,\n\n    \u0394\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03c9 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u2019\u00b7 \u1f10\u03bd\u03b4\u03af\u03ba\u03c9\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f10\u03ba\u03c4\u03af\u03c3\u1fc3 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd\n    \u039c\u03ae\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n_I will do it; for this revenge on a husband is just._ We see then the\nchorus, in keeping the secret of Medea\u2019s murders, was employed in its\ngreat office of countenancing and supporting _salubrem justitiam_,\n_wholesome justice_. And, therefore, the scholiast, with M. Dacier\u2019s\nleave, gave a fit and proper account of the matter (so far was it from\nbeing _impious_ and _ridiculous_) in saying, _that the Corinthian women\nbeing free_, i. e. not devoted to the service of Creon, by the special\nduties of any personal attachment, _take the side of justice, as the\nchorus is wont to do on other occasions_. The circumstance of their\n_freedom_ is properly mentioned. For this distinguishes their case\nfrom that of the _nutrix_, who upon receiving the account of Jason\u2019s\ncruelties, cries out,\n\n    \u1f4c\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bc\u1f74, \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b3\u03ac\u03c1 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03bc\u1f78\u03c2,\n    \u1f08\u03c4\u1f70\u03c1 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u03cc\u03c2 \u03b3\u2019 \u1f62\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u03c6\u03af\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f01\u03bb\u03af\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9.\n\nAnd that the chorus enter\u2019d into Medea\u2019s designs against her husband,\nthe tyrant Creon, and her rival, on reasons of justice and equity only,\nand not (as is hastily believed by some, who have not enough attended\nto the decorum of the ancient tragedy) for the sake of forwarding the\npoet\u2019s plot, may be certainly shewn. For when, in the fury of her\nresentments, and as the full completion of her revenge, the mother\ncomes to propose the murder of her innocent children, the chorus starts\nwith horror at the thought, dissuades her from it in the most earnest\nand affecting manner[17], and seems to have concealed the dreadful\nsecret only from the persuasion, that it was too horrid and unnatural\nto be perpetrated. The reader will collect this with pleasure, by\nturning to the fine song, which follows. It may be further observed,\nthat Medea herself, in opening this last purpose of her rage to the\nchorus, exacts fidelity of them only, _as they wished well to an\ninjured queen, and were women_;\n\n    \u0395\u1f34\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03c6\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03b5\u1f56 \u03b4\u03b5\u03c3\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9\u03c2, \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ae \u03c4\u2019 \u1f14\u03c6\u03c5\u03c2.\n\nwhich is beautifully contrived by the poet, to discriminate the two\ncases, and to intimate to us, that reasons of justice were now no\nlonger to be pleaded.\n\nIn sum, though these acts of severe avenging justice might not be\naccording to the express letter of the laws, or the more refined\nconclusions of the PORCH or ACADEMY; yet there is no doubt, that they\nwere, in the general account, esteemed fit and reasonable. And, it\nis to be observed, in order to pass a right judgment on the ancient\nchorus, that, though in virtue of their office, they were obliged\nuniversally to sustain a moral character; yet this moral was rather\npolitical and popular, than strictly legal or philosophic. Which is\nalso founded on good reason. The scope and end of the ancient theatre\nbeing to serve the interests of virtue and society, on the principles\nand sentiments, already spread and admitted amongst the people, and not\nto correct old errors, and instruct them in philosophic truth.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n202. TIBIA NON, UT NUNC, ORICHALCO, &c.] [from v. 202 to v. 220.] This\nis one of those many passages in the epistle, about which the critics\nhave said a great deal, without explaining any thing. In support of\nwhat I mean to offer, as the true interpretation, I observe,\n\nThat the poet\u2019s intention certainly was, not to censure the _false_\nrefinements of their stage-music; but, in a short digressive history\n(such as the didactic form will sometimes require) to describe\nthe rise and progress of the _true_. This I collect, 1. From _the\nexpression itself_; which cannot, without violence, be understood in\nany other way. For, as to the words _licentia_ and _pr\u00e6ceps_, which\nhave occasioned much of the difficulty, the _first_ means a _freer\nuse_, not a _licentiousness_, properly so called; and the _other_ only\nexpresses a vehemence and rapidity of language, naturally productive of\na quicker elocution, such as must of course attend the more numerous\nharmony of the lyre:\u2014not, as M. Dacier translates it, _une eloquence\ntemeraire et outr\u00e9e_, an extravagant straining and affectation of\nstyle. 2. From _the reason of the thing_; which makes it incredible,\nthat the music of the theatre should then be most complete, when the\ntimes were barbarous, and entertainments of this kind little encouraged\nor understood. 3. From _the character of that music itself_; for the\nrudeness of which, Horace, in effect, apologizes in defending it only\non the score of the imperfect state of the stage, and the simplicity of\nits judges. But what shall we say then to those lines,\n\n    _Indoctus quid enim saperet liberque laborum,\n    Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?_\n\nwhich seem to imply a censure on these Improvements, as unworthy the\napprobation of _wise_ men; contrary to what I have just now supposed to\nbe the scope of this whole passage.\n\nOn the strictest attention, I believe we are to understand them as a\n_Sneer_, in passing, on what grave and philosophic men have observed\nof these refinements, which they constantly treat, as _Corruptions_.\nSee note on v. 218. But the mixed auditories of these days, says the\npoet with his usual _badinage_, were not so _wise_. \u2019Tis, as if he had\nsaid, \u201cWhat I mention here as an improvement in dramatic music is, in\nthe ideas and language of some grave men, an abuse and perversion of\nit to immoral purposes. It may be so: but consider, for what sorts of\npeople these theatrical entertainments were designed: for the _ignorant\nclown and citizen, the plebeian and gentleman_, huddled together into\none confused mass, and crowding to the theatre, on a holyday, for some\nrelief from their ordinary toils and occupations. And alas, what do\nthese men know, or consider of this austere _wisdom_?\n\nBut the cast of the whole passage is, besides, such as favours the\nsupposition of an intended Irony. Hence the _Tibia non, ut nunc,\norichalco vincta_, &c. delivered in the usual tone of declaimers\nagainst modern manners. Hence the epithets, _frugi castusque\nverecundusque_, to denote the quality of those who assisted, of old, at\nthese _virtuous_ entertainments. And hence the enormity of that state\nof things, when the people were afterwards permitted to regale on holy\ndays, _impune_. This intention too accounts for the terms _licentia_,\n_luxuries_, _facundia_, _pr\u00e6ceps_, and others, which being of ambiguous\ninterpretation, the poet purposely chose, to mimic, and humour, as\nit were, the objectors in their favourite language on this occasion.\nTill at last, impatient to continue the raillery any further, he\nconcludes at once with an air of solemnity very proper to confound the\nimpertinence of such criticism.\n\n    Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri\n    Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.\n\nAll this the reader sees is agreeable to the poet\u2019s _prescription_\nelsewhere,\n\n    \u2014Sermone opus est tristi, s\u00e6pe _jocoso_.\n\nand indeed to his own _practice_ on an hundred occasions. So that on\nthe whole there is little doubt of his intention in the lines,\n\n    Indoctus quid enim _saperet_, &c.\n\nAt least, in this view the poet, I am apt to think, will be found\nintelligible and even elegant. Whereas, on any other supposition of his\nnumerous commentators, I cannot see that the verses before us (as they\nhere stand) have either propriety or common sense.\u201d\n\nThe interpretation then of this whole passage, from v. 202 to 220,\nwill stand thus. \u201cThe Tibia, says the poet, was at first _low_ and\n_simple_. The _first_, as best agreeing to the _state of the stage_,\nwhich required only a soft music to go along with, and assist the\nchorus; there being no large and crowded theatres to _fill_ in those\ndays. And the _latter_, as suiting best to the _state of the times_;\nwhose simplicity and frugal manners exacted the severest temperance, as\nin every thing else, so, in their dramatic ornaments and decorations.\nBut, when conquest had enlarged the territory, and widened the walls\nof Rome; and, in consequence thereof, a social spirit had dispelled\nthat severity of manners, by the introduction of frequent festival\nsolemnities; then, as was natural to expect, a freer and more varied\nharmony took place. Nor let it be objected that this _freer harmony_\nwas itself an abuse, a corruption of the severe and _moral_ music\nof ancient times. Alas! we were not as yet so _wise_, to see the\ninconveniencies of this improvement. And how should we, considering\nthe nature and end of these theatrical entertainments, and the sort of\nmen of which our theatres were made up? But, leaving the Philosopher\nto speculate at his ease, on this matter, thus, in _fact_, it was,\n\u201cthat the _Tibicen_, the musician, who played to the declamation in\nthe acts, instead of the rude and simpler strain of the old times,\ngave a richness and variety of tone; and, instead of the old inactive\nposture, added the grace of motion to his art. Just in the same\nmanner, continues he, it happened to the _Lyre_, i. e. _the music in\nthe chorus_, which originally, as that of the _Tibia_, was severe\nand simple; but, by degrees, acquired a quicker and more expressive\nmodulation, such as corresponded to the more elevated and passionate\nturn of the poet\u2019s style, and the diviner enthusiasm of his sentiment.\u201d\nAll that is further wanting to support and justify this interpretation,\nwill be found in the notes on particular passages.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n203. TENUIS SIMPLEXQUE, &c.] It may here be observed of the manner,\nin which the poet hath chosen to deliver this whole part [from v. 202\nto 295] that, besides its other uses, it tends directly to convey\nto his readers, and impress upon them in the strongest manner, the\nprincipal instruction, he has in view, and with which the epistle more\nexpresly concludes, _viz. The uses and importance of a spirit of\ncritical application_. For, in speaking of the _stage music_, of the\n_satyrs_, and the _Greek tragedy_ (all which come naturally in his\nway, and are very artfully connected) he chuses to deduce the account\nof each from its ruder and less polished original; tracing it through\nits several successive stages, and marking out to us the gradual\npolish and refinement, which it acquired from increasing diligence and\ncorrectness. The _Tibia_ at first was _simple_ and _rude_\u2014The _satyrs\nnaked_ and _barbarous_\u2014and the _Greek tragedy itself deformed and\nshapeless_ in the cart of Thespis. Care and attention reformed each. It\nfollows,\n\n    _Nil intentatum nostri liquere poet\u00e6, &c._\n\n_i. e._ our poets have not been wanting in their attempts to excel in\nthese several particulars. What is necessary to their success is, _lim\u00e6\nlabor et mora_. If the reader bear this in mind, it will help him to\nsee the order and scope of this part more distinctly.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n204. ASPIRARE ET ADESSE CHORIS, &c.] _Chorus_ here means the whole\ndramatic performance, which was originally nothing else.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n206. UTPOTE PARVUS, ET FRUGI CASTUSQUE VERECUNDUSQUE, &c.] M. _Dacier_\nfinds here _four_ causes _of the little regard the ancients had\nfor plays_ [he should have said, of their being satisfied with the\n_Tibia_, all rude and simple as is here described] _la premiere, que\nle peuple Romain \u00e9toit encore alors en petit nombre: la seconde, qu\u2019il\n\u00e9toit sage: la troisi\u00e9me, qu\u2019il \u00e9toit chaste, c\u2019est \u00e0 dire pieux: et\nla quatri\u00e9me, qu\u2019il \u00e9toit modeste_. But the three last epithets are\nsynonymous, all of them expressing what, though he took three guesses\nfor it, he had the ill fortune to miss at last, _that plainness and\nsimplicity_ of character, _that frugal reserve and moderation in\nthe use of any thing_, which so essentially belongs to rude minds,\nuninstructed in the arts of life. His _four_ causes are, in fact, then\nbut two; which have been fully considered in note on v. 202.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n211. ACCESSIT NUMERISQUE MODISQUE LICENTIA MAJOR.] M. _Dacier_ takes\n_licentia major_ in a bad sense, as implying _lascivet\u00e9_, _a culpable\nand licentious refinement_. But the _licence_, here spoken of, with\nregard to _numbers_ and _sounds_, like that in another place, which\nrespects _words_ [l. 51.] is one of those, which is allowed, when\n_sumpta pudenter_. The comparative _major_, which is a _palliative_,\nshews this; and is further justified by a like passage in _Cicero_,\n_De Oratore_ [l. iii. c. 48.] where speaking of this very licence\nin poetry, he observes, that out of the Heroic and Iambic measure,\nwhich were at first strictly observed, there arose by degrees the\nAnap\u00e6st, _procerior quidam numerus, et ille licentior et divitior\nDithyrambus_; evidently not condemning this change, but opposing it\nto the rigorous and confined measure of the elder poets. But the\nexpression itself occurs in the piece entitled _Orator_, in which,\ncomparing the freedoms of the poetical and oratorial style, _in ea_ [i.\ne. _poetica_] says he, _licentiam statuo majorem esse, quam in nobis,\nfaciendorum jungendorumque verborum_. The poet says, this _licence_\nextended _numeris modisque_, the former of which words will express\nthat _licence of metre_, spoken of by _Cicero_, and which is further\nexplained v. 256, _&c._ where an account is given of the improvement of\nthe Iambic verse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    214. SIC PRISCAE, \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 ARTI\n         TIBICEN, &c.\n         SIC ETIAM FIDIBUS, &c.]\n\nThis is the application of what hath been said, in general, concerning\nthe refinement of theatrical music to the case of _tragedy_. Some\ncommentators say, and to _comedy_. But in this they mistake, as will\nappear presently. M. _Dacier_ hath, I know not what conceit about\na comparison betwixt the _Roman_ and _Greek_ stage. His reason is,\n_that the lyre was used in the Greek chorus, as appears_, he says,\n_from Sophocles playing upon this instrument himself in one of his\ntragedies_. And was it not used too in the Roman chorus, as appears\nfrom Nero\u2019s playing upon it in several tragedies? But the learned\ncritic did not apprehend this matter. Indeed from the caution, with\nwhich his guides, the dealers in antiquities, always touch this point,\nit should seem, that they too had no very clear conceptions of it.\nThe case I take to have been this: The _Tibia_, as being most proper\nto accompany the declamation of the acts, _cantanti succinere_, was\nconstantly employed, as well in the Roman tragedy as comedy. This\nappears from many authorities. I mention only two from Cicero. _Quam\nmulta_ [Acad. l. ii. 7.] _qu\u00e6 nos fugiunt in cantu, exaudiunt in eo\ngenere exercitati: Qui, primo inflatu Tibicinis, Antiopam esse aiunt\naut Andromacham, cum nos ne suspicemur quidem._ The other is still more\nexpress. In his piece, entitled _Orator_, speaking of the negligence\nof the Roman writers, in respect of _numbers_, he observes, _that\nthere were even many passages in their tragedies, which, unless the_\nTIBIA _played to them, could not be distinguished from mere prose_:\n_qu\u00e6, nisi cum Tibicen accesserit, orationi sint solut\u00e6 simillima_.\nOne of these passages is expresly quoted from _Thyestes_, a tragedy\nof _Ennius_; and, as appears from the measure, taken out of one of\nthe acts. It is clear then, that the _Tibia_ was certainly used in\nthe _declamation_ of tragedy. But now the song of the tragic chorus,\nbeing of the nature of the ode, of course required _Fides_, the lyre,\nthe peculiar and appropriated instrument of the lyric Muse. And this\nis clearly collected, if not from express testimonies; yet from some\noccasional hints dropt by the ancients. For, 1. the lyre, we are\ntold, [Cic. De Leg. ii. 9. & 15.] and is agreed on all hands, was an\ninstrument of the Roman theatre; but it was not employed in comedy.\nThis we certainly know from the short accounts of the music prefixed to\nTerence\u2019s plays. 2. Further, the _Tibicen_, as we saw, accompanied the\ndeclamation of the acts in tragedy. It remains then, that the proper\nplace of the lyre was, where one should naturally look for it, in the\nsongs of the chorus; but we need not go further than this very passage\nfor a proof. It is unquestionable, that the poet is here speaking of\nthe chorus only; the following lines not admitting any other possible\ninterpretation. By _Fidibus_ then is necessarily understood the\ninstrument peculiarly used in it. Not that it need be said that the\n_Tibia_ was never used in the chorus. The contrary seems expressed in\na passage of Seneca, [Ep. lxxxiv.] and in Julius Pollux [l. iv. 15. \u00a7\n107.] \u2019Tis sufficient, if the _lyre_ was used solely, or principally in\nit, at this time. In this view, the whole digression is more pertinent\nand connects better. The poet had before been speaking of tragedy.\nAll his directions, from l. 100. respect this species of the drama\nonly. The application of what he had said concerning music, is then\nmost naturally made, 1. to the _Tibia_, the music of the acts; and, 2.\nto _Fides_, that of the choir: thus confining himself, as the tenor\nof this part required, to tragedy only. Hence is seen the mistake,\nnot only of M. Dacier, whose comment is in every view insupportable;\nbut, as was hinted, of Heinsius, Lambin, and others, who, with more\nprobability, explained this of the Roman comedy and tragedy. For\nthough _Tibia_ might be allowed to stand for comedy, as opposed to\n_Trag\u0153dia_, [as in fact, we find it in l. ii. Ep. 1. 98.] that being\nthe only instrument employed in it; yet, in speaking expresly of the\nmusic of the stage, _Fides_ could not determinately enough, and in\ncontradistinction to _Tibia_, denote that of tragedy, it being an\ninstrument used solely, or principally in the chorus; of which, the\ncontext shews, he alone speaks. It is further to be observed, that, in\nthe application here made, besides the music, the poet takes in the\nother improvements of the tragic chorus, these happening, as from the\nnature of the thing they would do, at the same time.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n214. SIC PRISCAE MOTUMQUE ET LUXURIEM.] These two words are employed\nto express that _quicker movement_, and _richer modulation_ of the new\nmusic; the peculiar defects of the _old_ being, 1. That it moved too\nslowly, and, 2. That it had no compass or variety of notes. It was that\n_movement_, that velocity and vehemence of the music, which Roscius\nrequired to have slackened in his old age.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n215. TRAXITQUE VAGUS PER PULPITA VESTEM.] This expresses not only the\nimprovement arising from the ornament of proper dresses, but from the\ngrace of motion: not only the _actor_, whose peculiar office it was,\nbut the _minstrel_ himself, as appears from hence, conforming his\ngesture in some sort to the music.\n\nOf the use and propriety of these gestures, or dances, it will not be\neasy for us, who see no such things attempted on the modern stage,\nto form any very clear or exact notions. What we cannot doubt of is,\n1. That the several theatrical dances of the ancients were strictly\nconformable to the genius of the different species of composition, to\nwhich they were applied. 2. That, therefore, the tragic dance, which\nmore especially accompanied the chorus, must have been expressive of\nthe highest gravity and decorum, tending to inspire ideas of what is\n_becoming, graceful_, and _majestic_; in which view we cannot but\nperceive the important assistance it must needs lend to virtue, and\nhow greatly it must contribute to set all her graces and attractions\nin the fairest light. 3. This idea of the ancient tragic dance, is not\nsolely formed upon our knowledge of the conformity, beforementioned;\nbut is further collected from the name, usually given to it, which was\n\u1f18\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1. This word cannot well be translated into our language; but\nexpresses all that grace and concinnity of motion, which the dignity\nof the choral song required. 4. Lastly, it must give us a very high\nnotion of the moral effect of this dance, when we find the severe Plato\nadmitting it into his commonwealth.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n216. SIC ETIAM FIDIBUS VOCES, &c.] He is here speaking of the great\nimprovement in the tragic chorus, after the Roman conquests, when the\nLatin writers began to enquire\n\n    _Quid Sophocles et Thespis et \u00c6schylus utile ferrent_.\n\nThis improvement consisted, 1. In a more instructive moral sentiment:\n2. In a more sublime and animated expression; which of course produced,\n3. A greater vehemence in the declamation: to which conformed, 4.\nA more numerous and rapid music. All these particulars are here\nexpressed, but, as the reason of the thing required, in an inverted\norder. The music of the lyre (that being his subject, and introducing\nthe rest) being placed first; the declamation, as attending that, next;\nthe language, _facundia_, that is, the subject of the declamation,\nnext; and the sentiment, _sententia_, the ground and basis of the\nlanguage, last.\n\n    _Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia pr\u00e6ceps._\n\nliterally, \u201cA vehemence and rapidity of language produced an unusual\nvehemence and rapidity of elocution in the declaimer!\u201d This \u201crapidity\nof language,\u201d is exactly the same, as that Cicero speaks of in\nDemocritus and Plato, [_Orat._ 638. _Elz._] which, because of its quick\nand rapid movement, _quod incitatius feratur_, some critics thought\nto be poetical. _Unaccustomed_, we may observe, is indifferently a\n_censure_ or _encomium_, according as the preceding state of the thing\nspoken of was _wrong_, or _right_. Much the same may be concluded of\n_pr\u00e6ceps_; its _literal_ sense is a degree of _motion_ in any thing\nabove what it had before. This may be _excessive_, or otherwise, as it\nchances: When applied to _the bleak East wind, dispersing a flight of\nbees, and dashing them on the stream_,\n\n                                  _si forte morantes\n    Sparserit, aut pr\u00e6ceps Neptuno immerserit Eurus_.\n                                    Virg. Georg. iv. 29.\n\nthe epithet implies _excess_; but when spoken of the _gentle South,\nwhose strongest gale is but sufficient to drive the willing ship to\nport_, [\u00c6n. vii. 410.] _Pr\u00e6cipiti delata Noto_, it then only expresses\n_due measure_.\n\nAs for the criticism from Quintilian, who opposes _pr\u00e6cipitia_ to\n_sublimibus_, it is doubly impertinent: 1. As the sense is necessarily\nfixed by its opposition to _sublimibus_: and 2. As the word is here\nused, not as implying _motion_, but _height_, in which view its sense\nis _absolute_, and always denotes _excess_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n218. UTILIUMQUE SAGAX RERUM, ET DIVINA FUTURI, SORTILEGIS NON\nDISCREPUIT SENTENTIA DELPHIS.] It is amazing that these two lines\nshould ever have been misunderstood as a censure, the import of them\nbeing highly _encomiastic_, yet with great exactness declaring the\nspecific boast and excellence of the chorus; which lay, as Heinsius\nhath well observed, 1. In inculcating important moral lessons; and 2.\nIn delivering useful presages and monitions concerning future conduct,\nwith an almost oracular prudence and authority.\n\n    SIC PRISCAE \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 \u2014 ARTI.\n\nWhat hath chiefly misled the Critics in their explanation of this\nplace, I suspect to have been the frequent encomiums on the severity\nof the ancient music, by the Greek and Latin writers. Though here\nthey seem to have overlooked two very material considerations: 1.\nThat the _former_ have chiefly treated the subject in a _moral_ or\n_political_ view, and therefore preferred the ancient music only as\nit was conceived to influence the public manners. For this reason\nPlato, one of the chief of those _encomiasts_, applauds, as we find,\nthe practice of \u00c6gypt, in suffering no change of her poetry, but\ncontinuing, to his time, her fondness for the _Songs of Isis_ [De Leg.\nl. ii. sub. init.] which just as much infers the perfection of those\nsongs, considered in a critical view, as Rome\u2019s sticking to her _Saliar\nverses_ would have shewn those poor, obscure orisons to have exceeded\nthe regular odes and artificial compositions of Horace. And it was this\nkind of criticism which, as I suppose, the poet intended to expose\nin the famous verses, which I explain in note on v. 202. 2. That the\n_latter_, the principal of them at least, who talk in the same strain,\nlived under the Emperors; in whose time, indeed, music had undergone\na miserable prostitution, _being broken_, as one of the best of those\nwriters complains, _into an effeminate and impure delicacy_\u2014_In\nscenis effeminata et impudicis modis fracta_, [Quint. I. l. x.] As\nto the times in question, I know but of one passage, which clearly\nand expresly condemns the music then in vogue; and that will admit of\nsome alleviation from its being found in a treatise concerning laws.\nThe passage I mean is in Cicero, [De Leg. l. ii. 15.] who, following\nPlato in his high-flown principles of legislation, exclames, _Illa\nqu\u00e6 solebant quondam compleri severitate jucunda Livianis et N\u00e6vianis\nmodis; nunc ut eadem exultent, cervices oculosque pariter eum_ MODORUM\nFLEXIONIBUS _torqueant!_ For the _severitas jucunda_ of the music,\nto which Livius\u2019s plays were set, it may be tolerably guessed from\nhence, that he was the _first_ who brought a written Play upon the\nstage; _i. e._ the first writer whose plays were acted to a regular\nand precomposed music. And it is not, we know, very usual for the\nfirst essays in any art to be perfect. It should seem then, that the\n_flexiones modorum_, as opposed to the plainness of the old music, are\nhere condemned, not so much in the view of a critic, estimating the\ntrue state of the stage; but, as was hinted, of a legislator, treading\nin the steps of Plato. Though indeed I have no doubt, that the music\nin those times was much changed, and had even suffered some degree of\ncorruption. This I infer, not so much from any express authorities that\nhave occurred, as from the general state of those times, which were\ndegenerating apace into the worst morals, the sure fore-runners of a\ncorrupt and vitiated music; for, though it may indeed, in its turn, and\ndoubtless does, when established, contribute much to help on the public\ndepravity, yet that depravity itself is originally not the _effect_,\nbut the _cause_ of a bad music; as is more than hinted to be Cicero\u2019s\nreal opinion in the place referred to, where, observing that the\nmanners of many Greek states had kept pace with their music, he adds,\nthat they had undergone this change, _Aut hac dulcedine corruptelaque\ndepravati, ut quidam putant; aut cum severitas eorum ob alia vitia\ncecidisset, tum fuit in auribus animisque mutatis etiam huic mutationi\nlocus_. [Leg. ii. 15.] But be this as it will, Horace, as we have seen,\nis no way concerned in the dispute about the ancient music.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n219. SENTENTIA DELPHIS.] _Sententia_ is properly _an aphorism taken\nfrom life, briefly representing either what is, or what ought to be\nthe conduct of it_: _Oratio sumpta de vita, qu\u00e6 aut quid sit, aut quid\nesse oporteat, in vita, breviter ostendit_. [Ad Herenn. Rhet. l. iv.]\nThese aphorisms are here mentioned, as constituting the peculiar praise\nand beauty of the chorus. This is finely observed, and was intended to\nconvey an oblique censure on the practice of those poets, who stuff out\nevery part of the drama alike with moral sentences, not considering,\nthat the only proper receptacle of them is the chorus, where indeed\nthey have an extreme propriety; it being the peculiar office and\ncharacter of the chorus to moralize. In the course of the action they\nshould rarely be used; and that for the plain reason assigned by the\nauthor, just quoted, [for the rule holds on the stage, as well as at\nthe bar] _Ut rei actores, non vivendi pr\u00e6ceptores, esse videamur_. That\nthere was some ground for this reproof of the Roman drama, is collected\nfrom the few remaining fragments of the old Latin plays, which have\nmuch of this sententious cast, and from what Quintilian expresly tells\nus of the old Latin poets, whose fame, it seems, was principally raised\nupon this merit. _Trag\u0153di\u00e6 scriptores, Accius et Pacuvius, clarissimi\ngravitate sententiarum, &c._ [l. x. c. 1.] To how intolerable an\nextreme this humour of moralizing in plays was afterwards carried,\nSeneca has given us an example.\n\nBut here a question will be started, \u201cWhy then did the Greeks moralize\nso much, or, if we condemn _Accius_ and _Seneca_, how shall we defend\n_Sophocles_ and _Euripides_?\u201d An ingenious[18] modern hath taken some\npains to satisfy this difficulty, and in part, I think, hath succeeded.\nHis solution, in brief, is, \u201cThat the moral and political aphorisms of\nthe Greek stage generally contained some apt and interesting allusion\nto the state of public affairs, which was easily catched by a quick,\nintelligent auditory; and not a dry, affected moral, without further\nmeaning, as for the most part was that of the Latins.\u201d This account is\nnot a little confirmed by particular instances of such acknowledged\nallusions, as well as from reflexions on the genius and government of\nthe Athenians, at large. But this, though it goes some way, does not\nfully extricate the matter. The truth is, these sentences are too thick\nsown in the Greek writers, to be fully accounted for from the single\nconsideration of their democratical views. Not to observe, that the\nvery choice of this _medium_ for the conveyance of their political\napplications, presupposes the prior acknowledged use and authority of\nit. I would then account for it in the following manner.\n\nI. In the virtuous simplicity of less polished times, this spirit of\nmoralizing is very prevalent; the good sense of such people always\ndelighting to shew itself in sententious or proverbial \u03b3\u03bd\u1ff6\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9, or\nobservations. Their character, like that of the clown in Shakespear,\nis _to be very swift and sententious_. [As you like it, Act v. sc.\n1.] This is obvious to common experience, and was long since observed\nby the _philosopher_, \u03bf\u1f31 \u1f04\u03b3\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bc\u03ac\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1 \u03b3\u03bd\u03c9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c4\u03cd\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u1f76, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1fe5\u1fb3\u03b4\u03af\u03c9\u03c2\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03c6\u03ac\u03b9\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9, [Arist. Rhet. l. ii. c. 21.] an observation, which of\nitself accounts for the practice of the elder poets in Greece, as in\nall other nations. A custom, thus introduced, is not easily laid aside,\nespecially when the oracular cast of these sentences, so fitted to\n_strike_, and the moral views of writers themselves (which was more\nparticularly true of the old dramatists) concurred to favour this\ntaste. But, 2. there was added to this, more especially in the age\nof Sophocles and Euripides, a general prevailing fondness for moral\nwisdom, which seems to have made the fashionable study of men of all\nranks in those days; when schools of philosophy were resorted to for\nrecreation as well as instruction, and a knowledge in morals was the\nsupreme accomplishment in vogue: The fruit of these philosophical\nconferences would naturally shew itself in certain brief, sententious\nconclusions, which would neither contradict the fashion, nor, it\nseems, offend against the ease and gaiety of conversation in those\ntimes. _Schools_ and _pedantry_, _morals_ and _austerity_, were not so\nessentially connected, in their combinations of ideas, as they have\nbeen since; and a sensible moral truth might have fallen from any\nmouth, without disgracing it. Nay, which is very remarkable, the very\n_scholia_, as they were called, or drinking catches of the Greeks,\nwere seasoned with this moral turn; the sallies of pleasantry, which\nescaped them in their freest hours, being tempered for the most part,\nby some strokes of this national sobriety. \u201cDuring the course of their\nentertainments, says Athen\u00e6us, [l. xv. c. 14.] they loved to hear, from\nsome wise and prudent person, an agreeable song: and those songs were\nheld by them most agreeable, which contained exhortations to virtue, or\nother instructions relative to their conduct in life.\u201d\n\nAnd to give the reader a taste of these _moral_ songs, I will take\nleave to present him with a very fine one, written by no less a person\nthan Aristotle himself; and the rather, as I have it in my power to\npresent him, at the same time, with an elegant translation of it. But\nits best recommendation will be that it comes from the same hand which\nhas so agreeably entertained us of late with some spirited imitations\nof Horace[19].\n\n    \u1f08\u03c1\u03b5\u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03cd\u03bc\u03bf\u03c7\u03b8\u03b5 \u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u03b5\u03af\u1ff3,\n    \u0398\u03ae\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03b1 \u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03b2\u03af\u1ff3.\n    \u03a3\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c1\u03b9, \u03a0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b8\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5, \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u1fb6\u03c2\n    \u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b6\u03b7\u03bb\u03c9\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bd \u1f19\u03bb\u03bb\u03ac\u03b4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2,\n    \u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bb\u1fc6\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u1f7a\u03c2 \u1f00\u03ba\u03ac\u03bc\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03c2.\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd,\n    \u03a7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u039c\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c5\u03b3\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03cc \u03b8\u2019 \u1f55\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5.\n    \u03a3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u2019 \u1f10\u03ba \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f29\u03c1\u03b1\u03ba\u03bb\u03ad\u03b7\u03c2\n    \u039b\u03ae\u03b4\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03bb\u2019 \u1f00\u03bd\u03ad\u03c4\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd,\n    \u1f1c\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c3\u1f70\u03bd \u1f00\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03bd.\n    \u03a3\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f08\u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u1f7a\u03c2\n    \u0391\u1f34\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u2019 \u03b1\u1f34\u03b4\u03b1\u03bf \u03b4\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f26\u03bb\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd\u00b7\n    \u03a3\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03b4\u2019 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1 \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03bc\u03bf\u03c1\u03c6\u1fb6\u03c2\n    \u1f08\u03c4\u03b1\u03c1\u03bd\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f14\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03c2\n    \u1f08\u03b5\u03bb\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c7\u03ae\u03c1\u03c9\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03b3\u03ac\u03c2.\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u03af\u03b3\u03b1\u03c1 \u1f00\u03bf\u03af\u03b4\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2,\n    \u1f08\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u03b5 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03be\u03ae\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9 \u03bc\u03bf\u1fe6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9,\n    \u039c\u03bd\u03b1\u03bc\u03bf\u03c3\u03cd\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b8\u03cd\u03b3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2,\n    \u0394\u03b9\u1f78\u03c2 \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03af\u03bf\u03c5 \u03c3\u03ad\u03b2\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b1\u1f54\u03be\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9\n    \u03a6\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03b3\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b2\u03b5\u03b2\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03c5[20].\n\n      I.\n    Hail, Virtue! Goddess! sov\u2019reign Good,\n    By man\u2019s bold race with pain pursu\u2019d!\n    Where\u2019er thou dart\u2019st thy radiant eye,\n    Greece sees her sons with transport fly;\n    Danger before thee disappears,\n    And death\u2019s dark frown no terror wears.\n\n      II.\n    So full into the breast of man descends\n      Thy rich ambrosial show\u2019r;\n    A show\u2019r, that gold, that parents far transcends,\n      Or, sleep\u2019s soft-soothing pow\u2019r.\n\n      III.\n    By thee ALCIDES soar\u2019d to fame,\n    Thy influence LEDA\u2019S twins proclaim;\n    Heroes for thee have dauntless trod\n    The dreary paths of hell\u2019s abode;\n    Fir\u2019d by thy form, all beamy bright,\n    Atarneus\u2019 nursling left the light.\n\n      IV.\n    His deeds, his social love (so will the nine,\n      Proud to spread wide the praise\n    Of friendship and of friendly Jove) shall shine\n      With ever-living rays.\n\nThis moralizing humour, so prevalent in those times, is, I dare be\nconfident, the true source of the sententious cast of the Greek\ndramatic writers, as well as of that sober air of moral, which, to the\nno small disgust of modern writers, is spread over all their poets.\nNot but there would be some difference in those poets themselves, and\nin proportion as they had been more or less conversant in the Academy,\nwould be their relish of this moral mode; as is clearly seen in the\ncase of Euripides, that philosopher of the stage, as the Athenians\ncalled him, and who is characterized by Quinctilian, as _sententiis\ndensus, et in iis, qu\u00e6 a sapientibus tradita sunt, p\u00e6ne ipsis par_. [L.\nx. c. 1.] Yet still the fashion was so general, that no commerce of the\nworld could avoid, or wholly get clear of it; and therefore Sophocles,\nthough his engagements in the state kept him at a greater distance from\nthe schools, had yet his share of this philosophical humour. Now this\napology for the practice of the Greek poets doth by no means extend to\nthe Roman; Philosophy having been very late, and never generally, the\ntaste of Rome.\n\nCicero says, _Philosophia quidem tantum abest ut proinde, ac de hominum\nest vit\u00e2 merita, laudetur, ut a plerisque neglecta, a multis etiam\nvituperetur_. In another place he tells us, that in his time Aristotle\nwas not much known, or read, even by the philosophers themselves.\n[_Cic. Top. sub init._]\n\nAnd, though in the age of Seneca, _Sentences_, we know, were much in\nuse, yet the cast and turn of them evidently shew them to have been\nthe affectation of the lettered _few_, and not the _general_ mode and\npractice of the time. For the quaintness, in which Seneca\u2019s aphorisms\nare dressed, manifestly speaks the labour and artifice of the closet,\nand is just the reverse of that easy, simple expression, which cloaths\nthem in the Greek poets, thus demonstrating their familiar currency in\ncommon life. Under any other circumstances than these, the practice, as\nwas observed, must be unquestionably faulty; except only in the chorus,\nwhere for the reason before given, it may always, with good advantage,\nbe employed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n220. CARMINE QUI TRAGICO, &c.] The connexion with v. 201, from whence\nthe poet had digressed, is worth observing. The digression had been\ntaken up in describing the improved state of dramatic music; the\napplication of which to the case of tragedy, brings him round again to\nhis subject, the tragic chorus; to which alone, as hath been observed,\nthe two last lines refer. This too is the finest preparation of what\nfollows. For to have passed on directly from the _tibia_ to the\n_satyrs_, had been abrupt and inartificial; but from _tragedy_, the\ntransition is easy, the _satyrs_ being a species of the tragic drama.\nThat it was so accounted may be seen from the following passage in Ovid,\n\n    _Est et in obsc\u00e6nos deflexa trag\u00e6dia risus,\n      Multaque pr\u00e6teriti verba pudoris habet_.\n                             Trist. l. ii. v. 409.\n\nFor the _tragedy_, here referred to, cannot be the regular Roman\ntragedy. _That_ he had distinctly considered before, and, besides,\nit in no age admitted, much less in this, of which we are speaking,\nso intolerable a mixture. As little can it be understood of the\nproper Atellane fable, for besides that Ovid is here considering the\n_Greek_ drama only, the Atellane was ever regarded as a species, not\nof tragedy, but comedy: The authority of Donatus is very express;\n\u201c_Com\u00e6diarum_ form\u00e6 sunt tres: Palliat\u00e6, Togat\u00e6, _Atellan\u00e6_, salibus\net jocis composit\u00e6, qu\u00e6 in se non habent nisi vetustam elegantiam.\u201d\n[Prol. in Terent.] And Athen\u00e6us [l. vi.] speaking of some pieces of\nthis sort, which L. Sylla had composed, calls them \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2,\nsatyric comedies; _comedies_, because, ss Donatus says, \u201csalibus et\njocis composit\u00e6:\u201d and _satyric_, not that satyrs were introduced\nin them, but, according to Diomedes, from their being \u201cargumentis\ndictisque _similes_ satyricis fabulis Gr\u00e6cis.\u201d Of what then can Ovid\nbe understood to speak, but the true satyric piece, which was always\nesteemed, and, as appears from the Cyclops, in fact is, what Demetrius\n[\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u1f11\u03c1\u03bc\u03b7\u03bd\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2] elegantly calls it, \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03b6\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b7, a lighter kind\nof _tragedy_; the very name, which Horace, as well as Ovid in this\nplace, gives to it? But this is further clear from the instance quoted\nby Ovid, of this loose tragedy; for he proceeds:\n\n    _Nec nocet autori, mollem qui fecit Achillem,\n      Infregisse suis fortia facta modis_.\n\nwhich well agrees to the idea of a satyric piece, and, as Vossius takes\nnotice, seems to be the very same subject, which Athen\u00e6us and others\ntell us, Sophocles had work\u2019d into a satyric tragedy, under the title\nof \u1f08\u03c7\u03b9\u03bb\u03bb\u03ad\u03c9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03af.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n221. MOX ETIAM, &c.] It is not the intention of these notes to retail\nthe accounts of others. I must therefore refer the reader, for whatever\nconcerns the history of the satyric, as I have hitherto done, of\nthe tragic, and comic drama, to the numerous dissertators on the\nancient stage; and above all, in the case before us, to the learned\nCasaubon; from whom all that hath been said to any purpose, by modern\nwriters, hath been taken. Only it will be proper to observe one or two\nparticulars, which have been greatly misunderstood, and without which\nit will be impossible, in any tolerable manner, to explane what follows.\n\nI. The design of the poet, in these lines, is not to fix the origin of\nthe satyric piece, in ascribing the invention of it to Thespis. This\nhath been concluded, without the least warrant from his own words,\nwhich barely tell us, \u201cthat the Representation of tragedy was in elder\nGreece, followed by the _satyrs_;\u201d and indeed the nature of the thing,\nas well as the testimony of all antiquity, shews it to be impossible.\nFor the _satyr_ here spoken of, is, in all respects, a regular drama,\nand therefore could not be of earlier date, than the times of \u00c6schylus,\nwhen the constitution of the drama was first formed. \u2019Tis true indeed,\nthere was a kind of entertainment of much greater antiquity, which by\nthe ancients is sometimes called _satyric_, out of which (as Aristotle\nassures us) tragedy itself arose, \u1f21 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1, \u03b4\u03b9\u1f70 \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f10\u03ba \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\n\u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b1\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u1f40\u03c8\u1f72 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b5\u03c3\u03b5\u03bc\u03bd\u03ce\u03b8\u03b7, [\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03b4.] But then this was\nnothing but a chorus of satyrs [Athen\u00e6us, l. xiv.] celebrating the\nfestivals of _Bacchus_, with rude songs, and uncouth dances; and had\nlittle resemblance to that, which was afterwards called _satyric_;\nwhich, except that it retained the chorus of satyrs, and turned upon\nsome subject relative to Bacchus, was of a quite different structure,\nand, in every respect, as regular a composition, as tragedy itself.\n\nII. There is no doubt but the poem, here distinguished by the name of\nSATYRI, was in actual use on the Roman stage. This appears from the\nturn of the poet\u2019s whole criticism upon it. Particularly, his address\nto the Pisos, v. 235. and his observation of the offence which a loose\ndialogue in this drama would give to a _Roman_ auditory, v. 248. make\nit evident that he had, in fact, the practice of his own stage in\nview. It hath, however, been questioned, whether by _Satyri_ we are to\nunderstand the proper Greek _Satyrs_, or the Latin _Atellane_ fable,\nwhich, in the main of its character, very much resembled that drama.\nIf the authority of Diomedes be any thing, the _former_ must be the\ntruth, for he expresly asserts, \u201cthat the Satyric and Atellane pieces,\nthough similar in the general cast of their composition, differed in\nthis essential point, that the persons in the former were satyrs, in\nthe other, not.\u201d [L. iii. c. De po\u00ebm. gen.] Now the poet expresly tells\nus, the Persons in the drama he is here describing, were _Satyrs_, and\naccordingly delivers rules for the regulation of their characters. As\nto the _Atellane_, according to the way in which Vossius reads the\nwords of Diomedes, the characters were _Oscan_, _person\u00e6 Osc\u00e6_, which\nis very probable, not so much for the reasons assign\u2019d by this Critic\n(for they are indeed very frivolous) but because, as it should seem\nfrom a passage in Strabo, [Lib. v. 233.] the language of the OSCI was\nused in these Atellanes, and therefore common sense would require,\nthat the persons also introduced should be Oscan. The difficulty is\nto know how it happened that, in a work written purposely to reform\nthe Roman stage, the poet should say nothing of one species, the\n_Atellane_, which was of great authority and constant use at Rome, and\nyet say so much of another, the _Satyrs_, which was properly a Greek\nentertainment and certainly much less cultivated by the Roman poets.\nThe plain solution of the matter, is, that, when now the Romans were\nbecome acquainted with the Greek models, and had applied themselves\nto the imitation of them, these Oscan characters were exchanged for\nthe Greek satyrs, which they before resembled in the main parts of\ntheir character; and which appear, on other occasions, to have been\nno strangers at Rome; as we collect from the Sileni and Satyrs making\na part (as Dionysius relates it) in their triumphal processions. So\nthat this change of the Oscan persons for _Satyrs_ is to be considered\nonly as an improvement of the old _Atellane_, and not the introduction\nof an intirely new drama. In every other respect the precepts here\ngiven for the regulation of the _Satyrs_ are such as would equally\nserve to improve the _Atellane_. The probable reason why the poet\nchose to insist so much on this alteration, or rather why he laboured\nso strenuously to _support_ it, will be given in its place. In the\nmean time supposing his view to have been this of countenancing the\nintroduction of _satyric persons_ into the Atellane (and that they\nwere, in fact, introduced, we learn from an express authority[21])\nevery thing said on the subject will not only be pertinent and\nagreeable to what is here taught to be the general tenor of the\nepistle, but will be seen to have an address and contrivance, which\nwill very much illustrate this whole part, and recommend it to the\nexact reader.\n\nBut before I quit this subject of the Atellane fable it will be proper\nto observe, That when I every where speak of it, as of early original,\nand ancient use on the Roman stage, I am not unmindful that Velleius\nPaterculus speaks of Pomponius as the Inventor of this Poem; which, if\ntaken in the strict sense, will bring the date of it very low. \u201cSane\nnon ignoremus e\u00e2dem \u00e6tate fuisse Pomponium, sensibus celebrem, verbis\nrudem, et _novitate inventi a se operis_ commendabilem.\u201d L. ii. c. ix.\nFor the age he is speaking of is that of SYLLA. But the authorities\nfor the high antiquity of the Atellane fable are so express, that,\nwhen Pomponius is called the _Inventor_ of it, it is but as Horace\ncalls Lucilius the Inventor of the Roman Satire. That is, he made so\nconsiderable a change in the form and conduct of this poem, as to run\naway with all the honour of it. The improvements made by Lucilius in\nSatire have been taken notice of in the _Introduction_. And it happens\nthat a curious passage in Athen\u00e6us will let us into the Improvements\nmade by Pomponius in the Atellanes.\n\nBut first we are to understand that this sort of entertainment, as the\nname speaks, was imported to Rome from ATELLA, a town of the OSCI in\nCampania; and that the Dialect of that people was constantly and _only_\nused in it, even when the Osci themselves had ceased to be a people.\nThis we learn from Strabo. \u039f\u03a3\u039a\u03a9\u039d \u1f10\u03ba\u03bb\u03b5\u03bb\u03bf\u03b9\u03c0\u03cc\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f21 \u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03bb\u03b5\u03ba\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u1f70\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1fec\u03c9\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2\u00b7 \u1f67\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ae\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03bf\u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac \u03c4\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1 \u1f00\u03b3\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c0\u03ac\u03c4\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9. L. v. 233.\n\nThe OSCAN language, we see, was made use of in the Atellane plays, just\nas the Welsh, or some Provincial Dialect, is often employed in our\nComedies.\n\nBut now we learn from Athen\u00e6us that L. Sylla writ some of these\nAtellanes in the ROMAN LANGUAGE. \u1f51\u03c0\u2019 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03b3\u03c1\u03b1\u03c6\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b1\u03c4\u03c5\u03c1\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u03c9\u03bc\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03b9\n\u03a4\u0397\u0399 \u03a0\u0391\u03a4\u03a1\u03a9\u03a9\u0399 \u03a6\u03a9\u039d\u0397\u0399. [L. vi. p. 261. Ed. Casaub.] The difficulty then\nclears up. For the Pomponius whom Velleius speaks of was contemporary\nwith L. Sylla. So that to give any propriety to the term of _Inventor_,\nas applied to Pomponius, we must conclude that he was the _first_\nperson who set this example of composing Atellane plays in the vulgar\ndialect: which took so much that he was even followed in this practice\nby the Roman General. This account of the matter perfectly suits\nwith the encomium given to Pomponius. He would naturally, on such\nan alteration, endeavour to give this buffoon sort of Comedy a more\nrational cast: And this reform of itself would entitle him to great\nhonour. Hence the SENSIBUS CELEBRIS of Paterculus[22]. But to preserve\nsome sort of resemblance (which the people would look for) to the old\nAtellane, and not to strip it of all the pleasantry arising from the\nbarbarous dialect, he affected, it seems, the _antique_ in the turn of\nhis expression. Hence the other part of his character (which in the\npoliter age of Paterculus grew offensive to nice judges) VERBIS RUDIS.\n\nThe conclusion is, That the Atellane Fable was in its first rude form\nand Oscan Dialect of ancient use at Rome, where it was admitted, as\nStrabo speaks, \u039a\u0391\u03a4\u0391 \u03a4\u0399\u039d\u0391 \u0391\u0393\u03a9\u039d\u0391 \u03a0\u0391\u03a4\u03a1\u0399\u039f\u039d: That Pomponius afterwards\n_reformed_ its barbarities, and brought it on the Stage in a _Roman_\ndress; which together were thought so great improvements, that later\nwriters speak of him as the INVENTOR of this Poem. But to return to our\nproper subject, the _Greek Satyrs_.\n\nIII. For the absolute merit of these satyrs, the reader will judge\nof it himself by comparing the Cyclops, the only piece of this kind\nremaining to us from antiquity, with the rules here delivered by\nHorace. Only it may be observed, in addition to what the reader will\nfind elsewhere [_n._ v. 223.] apologized in its favour, that the\ndouble character of the satyrs admirably fitted it, as well for a\nsensible entertainment to the wise, as for the sport and diversion of\nthe vulgar. For while the grotesque appearance, and jesting vein of\nthese fantastic personages amused the one; the other saw much further;\nand considered them, at the same time, as replete with science, and\ninformed by a spirit of the most abstruse wisdom. Hence important\nlessons of civil prudence, interesting allusions to public affairs,\nor a high, refined moral, might, with the highest probability, be\ninsinuated, under the slight cover of a rustic simplicity. And from\nthis instructive cast, which from its nature must be very obscure, if\nnot impenetrable, to us at this day, was, I doubt not, derived the\nprincipal pleasure which the ancients found in this species of the\ndrama. If the modern reader would conceive any thing of the nature and\ndegree of this pleasure, he may in part guess at it, from reflecting on\nthe entertainment he himself receives from the characters of the clowns\nin Shakespear; _who_, as the poet himself hath characterized them,\n_use their folly, like a stalking horse, and, under the presentation of\nthat, shoot their wit_. [As you like it.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n221. AGRESTIS SATYROS, &c.] It hath been shewn, that the poet could\nnot intend, in these lines, to _fix the origin of the satyric drama_.\nBut, though this be certain, and the dispute concerning that point be\nthereby determined, yet is it to be noted, that he purposely describes\nthe satyr in its ruder and less polished form; glancing even at some\nbarbarities, which deform the Bacchic chorus; which was properly the\nsatyric piece, before \u00c6schylus had, by his regular constitution of the\ndrama, introduced it, under a very different form on the stage. The\nreason of this conduct is given in _n._ on v. 203. Hence the propriety\nof the word _nudavit_, which Lambin rightly interprets, _nudos\nintroduxit Satyros_, the poet hereby expressing the monstrous indecorum\nof this entertainment in its first unimproved state. Alluding also to\nthis ancient character of the _Satyr_, he calls him _asper_, i. e.\nrude and petulant; and even adds, that his jests were intemperate, and\nwithout the _least mixture of gravity_. For thus, upon the authority of\na very ingenious and learned critic, I explane _incolumi gravitate_, i.\ne. rejecting every thing serious, bidding _farewell_, as we say, _to\nall gravity_. Thus [L. iii. O. 5.]\n\n    _Incolumi Jove et urbe Roma;_\n\n_i. e._ bidding farewell to Jupiter [Capitolinus] and Rome; agreeably\nto what is said just before,\n\n    _Anciliorum et nominis et tog\u00e6_\n    OBLITUS, _\u00e6tern\u00e6que Vest\u00e6_.\n\nor, as SALVUS is used still more remarkably in Martial [10. l. v.]\n\n    _Ennius est lectus_ SALVO _tibi, Roma, Marone:\n      Et sua riserunt secula M\u00e6onidem._\n\n_Farewell, all gravity_, is as remote from the original sense of the\nwords _fare well_, as _incolumi gravitate_ from that of _incolumis_, or\n_salvo Marone_ from that of _salvus_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n223. INLECEBRIS ERAT ET GRATA NOVITATE MORANDUS SPECTATOR\u2014] The poet\ngives us in these words the reason, why such gross Ribaldry, as we know\nthe Atellanes consisted of, was endured by the politest age of Rome.\nScenical representations, being then intended, not, as in our days, for\nthe entertainment of the better sort, but on certain great solemnities,\nindifferently for the diversion of the whole city, it became necessary\nto consult the taste of the multitude, as well as of those, _quibus est\nequus, et pater et res_.\n\nAnd this reason is surely sufficient to vindicate the poet from the\ncensure of a late critic, who has fallen upon this part of the epistle\nwith no mercy. \u201cThe poet, says he, spends a great number of verses\nabout these satyrs; but the subject itself is unworthy his pen. He,\nwho could not bear the elegant mimes of Laberius, that he should think\nthis farcical and obscene trash, worth his peculiar notice, is somewhat\nstrange.\u201d I doubt not, it appeared so to this writer, who neither\nconsidered the peculiar necessity of the satyric piece, nor attended to\nthe poet\u2019s purpose and drift in this epistle. The former is the more\nextraordinary, because he hath told us, and rightly too, \u201cthat, to\ncontent the people, the satyric was superadded to the tragic drama.\u201d\nAnd he quotes a passage from Diomedes, which gives the same account,\n_Satyros induxerunt ludendi causa jocandique, simul ut spectator inter\nres tragicas seriasque satyrorum quoque jocis et ludis delectaretur_.\nShould not this have taught him, that what was so requisite to content\nthe people, might deserve some notice from the poet? This _farcical\ntrash_ was chiefly calculated for those, who without the _enticement\nof so agreeable a change_ in the entertainment of the day, would not\nhave had patience to sit out the tragedy; which being intended for\nthe gratification of the better sort, _urbani et honesti_, they, in\ntheir turn, required to be diverted in the only way, which was to the\nlevel of their taste, that of farce and pleasantry. And this I dare be\nconfident, so great a patron of liberty, as this writer, will agree\nwith me in thinking to be but reasonable in a free state; which ought\nto make some provision for the _few_, that may chance, even under\nsuch advantages, to want a truly critical spirit. I hold then, that\nHorace acted, not only in the character of a good critic, but of a\nprudent man, and good citizen, in attempting to refine, what it had\nnot been equitable, or was not in his power, wholly to remove. But 2.\nthe learned critic as little attended to the drift of the epistle,\nas to the important use and necessity of the satyric drama. He must\notherwise have seen, that, in an essay to improve and regulate the\nRoman theatre (which is the sole purpose of it) the poet\u2019s business was\nto take it, as it then stood, and to confine himself to such defects\nand abuses, as he found most likely to admit a correction, and not, as\nvisionary projectors use, to propose a thorough reform of the public\ntaste in every instance. The _Atellanes_ had actual possession of\nthe stage, and, from their antiquity, and other prejudices in their\nfavour, as well as from the very design and end of their theatrical\nentertainments, would be sure to keep it. What had the poet then, in\nthese circumstances, to do but, in pursuance of his main design, to\nencourage a reformation of that entertainment, which he was not at\nliberty absolutely, and under every shape, to reject. This he judged\nmight most conveniently be done by adopting the Greek _Satyrs_ instead\nof their own _Oscan_ characters. With this change, though the Atellanes\nmight not, perhaps, be altogether to his own taste, yet he hoped to\nrender it a tolerable entertainment to the better sort. And this, in\nfact, it might have been by following the directions here given; part\nof which were intended to free it from that _obscene and farcical\ntrash_, which appears to have been no less offensive to the poet, than\nto this critic.\n\nAs for the so much applauded _mimes_, they had not, it is probable, at\nthis time gained a footing on the stage, sufficient to entitle them to\nso much consideration. This was a new upstart species of the drama,\nwhich, though it had the common good-fortune of absurd novelties, to\ntake with the great; yet was generally disapproved by men of better\ntaste, and better morals. Cicero had passed a severe censure upon it\nin one of his epistles, [Ad famil. ix. 16.] which intimates, that it\nwas of a more buffoon and ridiculous composition, than their Atellanes;\nwhose place it began to be the fashion to supply with this ribaldry.\nAnd we collect the same thing from what Ovid observes of it in apology\nfor the looseness of his own verses,\n\n    _Quid si scripsissem_ MIMOS _obsc\u0153na jocantes,\n      Qui semper vetiti crimen amoris habent?_\n\n    _Nec satis incestis temerari vocibus_ aures,\n    _Assuescunt_ oculi _multa pudenda pati_.\n                                  Trist. l. ii. v. 497.\n\nHorace, with this writer\u2019s leave, might therefore judge it better to\nretain the Atellanes under some restrictions, than adopt what was much\nworse. But the mimes of Laberius were quite another thing. They were\nall elegance. So J. Scaliger [Comment, de Com\u0153d. et Trag\u0153d. c. vi.]\nand, after him, this writer, tells us; but on no better grounds, than\nthat he wrote good Latin (though not always that, as may be seen in\nA. Gellius, l. xvi. c. 7.) and hath left a few elegant, moral scraps\nbehind him. But what then? the kind of composition was ridiculous and\nabsurd, and, in every view, far less tolerable, than the _satyrs_ under\nthe regulation of Horace. The latter was a regular drama, consisting\nof an intire fable, conducted according to the rules of probability\nand good sense, only dashed with a little extravagance for the sake\nof the mob. The character of the former hath been given above from\nunquestionable authorities. Accordingly Diomedes [iii. p. 488. ed.\nPutsch.] defines it to be _an irreverent and lascivious imitation of\nobscene acts_\u2014_mimus est sermonis cujuslibet motus sine reverentia,\nvel factorum et turpium cum lascivia imitatio_. And Scaliger himself\nowns _veri mimi proprium esse qu\u00e6dam sordida ut affectet_, loc. cit.\nIt seems, in short, to have been a confused medley of comic drollery\non a variety of subjects, without any consistent order or design;\ndelivered by one actor, and heightened with all the licence of obscene\ngesticulation. Its best character, as practised by its greatest master,\nLaberius, was that of being witty in a very bad way [Sen. Controv. l.\niii. c. 18.] and its sole end and boast, _risu diducere rictum_ [Hor.\ni. S. x. 7.] which, whatever virtue it may be, is not always a proof of\nmuch elegance. But I have spent too many words on a criticism, which\nthe ingenious author, I am persuaded, let fall unawares, and did not\nmean to give us as the result of a mature and well-weighed deliberation\non this subject.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n225. VERUM ITA RISORES, &c.] The connecting particle, _verum_,\nexpresses the opposition intended between the original satyr and that\nwhich the poet approves. For having insinuated the propriety of the\nsatyric shews, as well from the practice of Greece, as the nature of\nfestival solemnities, the poet goes on to animadvert on their defects,\nand to prescribe such rules, in the conduct of them, as might render\nthem a tolerable diversion, even to the better sort. This introduction\nof the subject hath no small art. For, there being at this time (as\nhath been shewn) an attempt to bring in the Greek satyrs, while the\nAtellane plays (as was likely) still held the affections of the people,\nthe poet was not openly to reproach and discredit these; but, by a\ntacit preference, to support and justify the other. This is done with\naddress. For, instead of criticising the Atellanes, which came directly\nin his way, after having closed his account of the Roman tragedy, he\nrelates, as it were, incidentally, the practice of ancient Greece in\nexhibiting satyrs, and thence immediately passes on, without so much as\ntouching on the other favourite entertainment, to offer some directions\nconcerning the satyric drama.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n227. NE QUICUNQUE DEUS, QUICUNQUE ADHIBEBITUR HEROS, &c.] Gods and\nHeroes were introduced as well into the satyric as tragic drama, and\noften the very same Gods and Heroes, which had born a part in the\npreceding tragedy: a practice, which Horace, I suppose, intended, by\nthis hint, to recommend as most regular. This gave the serious, tragic\nair to the satyr. The comic arose from the _risor_ and _dicax_, who was\neither a satyr himself, or some character of an extravagant, ridiculous\ncast, like a satyr. Of this kind, says Diomedes, from whom I take this\naccount, are Autolychus and Burris: which last particular I mention\nfor the sake of justifying a correction of the learned Casaubon. This\ngreat critic conjectured, that, instead of _Burris_, in this place, it\nshould be read _Busiris_. His reason is \u201c_nam Burris iste ex Gr\u00e6corum\npoetis mihi non notus_:\u201d which reason hath more force, than appears at\nfirst sight. For the very nature of this diversion required, that the\nprincipal character of it should be well known, which it was scarce\nlikely to be, if not taken from a common story in their poets. But\nVossius objects, \u201c_sed non ea fuerit persona ridicula_:\u201d contrary to\nwhat the grammarian represents it. But how so? Busiris was a savage,\ninhospitable tyrant, who sacrificed strangers. And what should hinder\nthis character from being made ridiculous, as well as Polypheme in the\nCyclops? Their characters were not unlike. And, as is seen in that\ncase, the ancients knew to set forth such monsters of cruelty in a\nlight, that rendered them equally absurd and detestable. This was\nagreeable to their humanity, which, by such representations, loved to\ncultivate a spirit of benevolence in the spectators; and shews the\nmoral tendency of even the absurdest of the ancient dramatic shews. The\nobjection of Vossius is then of no weight. But what further confirms\nthe emendation of the excellent Casaubon, is a manuscript note on the\nmargin of a printed copy of this book[23], which I have now by me, as\nit should seem, from his own hand, \u201c_lectionem vero quam restituimus\netiam in optimo codice Puteano postea invenimus_.\u201d The learned reader\nwill therefore, henceforth, look upon the text of _Diomedes_, in this\nplace, as fully settled.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n229. MIGRET IN OBSCURAS &c.\u2014AUT, DUM VITAT &c.] The two faults,\ncautioned against, are 1. a too low, or vulgar expression, in the comic\nparts; and 2. a too sublime one, in the tragic. The _former_ of these\nfaults would almost naturally adhere to the first essays of the Roman\nsatyrs, from the buffoon genius of the old Atellane: and the _latter_,\nfrom not apprehending the true measure and degree of the tragic\nmixture. To correct both these, the poet gives the exactest idea of\nthe satyrs, in the image of a Roman matron, sharing in the mirth of a\nreligious festival. The occasion obliged to some freedoms: and yet the\ndignity of her character demanded a decent reserve.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n234. NON EGO INORNATA &c.] The scope of these lines may be to regulate\nthe satyric style, by the idea of its character, before given, in\nthe allusion to a Roman matron. Conformably to that idea, a plain,\nunornamented expression [from v. 234 to 236.] must not always be used.\nThe three following lines inforce this general application by example.\n\nIf the exact reader find himself dissatisfied with this gloss, which\nseems the only one, the words, as they now stand, will bear, he may,\nperhaps, incline to admit the following conjecture, which proposes\nto read, instead of _inornata_, _honorata_. I. The context, I think,\nrequires this change. For the two faults observed above [v. 229, 30.]\nwere, 1. a too low expression, and, 2. a too lofty. Corresponding to\nthis double charge, the poet having fixed the idea of this species of\ncomposition [v. 231, 2, 3.] should naturally be led to apply it to both\npoints in questions: 1. to the comic part, in prescribing the true\nmeasure of its condescension, and, 2. to the tragic, in settling the\ntrue bounds of its elevation. And this, according to the reading here\noffered, the poet doth, only in an inverted order. The sense of the\nwhole would be this,\n\n    1. _Non ego_ HONORATA _et dominantia nomina solum\n    Verbaque, Pisones, satyrorum scriptor amabo_:\n\n_i. e._ in the tragic scenes, I would not confine myself to such words\nonly, as are in honour, and bear rule in tragic, and the most serious\nsubjects; this stateliness not agreeing to the condescending levity of\nthe satyr.\n\n    2. _Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori,\n    Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur, et audax\n    Pythias, emuncto lucrata Simone talentum,\n    An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni._\n\n_i. e._ nor, on the contrary, in the comic scenes, would I incur the\nother extreme of a too plain, and vulgar expression, this as little\nsuiting its inherent matronlike dignity. But, II. this correction\nimproves the _expression_ as well as the _sense_. For besides the\nopposition, implied in the disjunctive, _nec_, which is this way\nrestored, _dominantia_ hath now its genuine sense, and not that strange\nand foreign one forced upon it out of the Greek language. As connected\nwith _honorata_, it becomes a metaphor, elegantly pursued; and hath too\na singular propriety, the poet here speaking of figurative terms. And\nthen, for _honorata_ itself, it seems to have been a familiar mode of\nexpression with Horace. Thus [2 Ep. ii. 112.] _honore indigna vocabula_\nare such words as have _parum splendoris_ and are _sine pondere_. And\n\u201c_qu\u00e6 sunt in honore vocabula_\u201d is spoken of the contrary ones, such\nas are fit to enter into a serious tragic composition, in this very\nepistle, v. 71.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n240. EX NOTO FICTUM &c.] This precept [from v. 240 to 244] is analogous\nto that, before given [v. 129] concerning tragedy. It directs to\nform the satyrs out of a known subject. The reasons are, in general,\nthe same for both. Only one seems peculiar to the satyrs. For the\ncast of them being necessarily romantic, and the persons, those\nfantastic beings, called satyrs, the \u03c4\u1f78 \u1f45\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd, or probable, will\nrequire the subject to have gained a popular belief, without which the\nrepresentation must appear unnatural. Now these subjects, which have\ngained a popular belief, in consequence of old tradition, and their\nfrequent celebration in the poets, are what Horace calls _nota_; just\nas newly invented subjects, or, which comes to the same thing, such\nas had not been employed by other writers, _indicta_, he, on a like\noccasion, terms _ignota_. The connexion lies thus. Having mentioned\n_Silenus_ in v. 239, one of the commonest characters in this drama, an\nobjection immediately offers itself; \u201cbut what good poet will engage\nin subjects and characters so trite and hackney\u2019d?\u201d The answer is, _ex\nnoto fictum carmen sequar_, i. e. however trite and well known this and\nsome other characters, essential to the satyr, are, and must be; yet\nwill there be still room for fiction and genius to shew itself. The\nconduct and disposition of the play may be wholly new, and above the\nability of common writers, _tantum series juncturaque pollet_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n244. SYLVIS DEDUCTI CAVEANT &c.] Having before [v. 232] settled the\ntrue idea of the satyric style in general, he now treats of the\npeculiar language of the satyrs themselves. This common sense demands\nto be in conformity with their sylvan character, neither affectedly\ntender and gallant, on the one hand; nor grossly and offensively\nobscene, on the other. The _first_ of these cautions seems leveled at\na false improvement, which, on the introduction of the Roman satyr,\nwas probably attempted on the simple, rude plan of the Greek, without\nconsidering the rustic extraction and manners of the fauns and satyrs.\nThe _latter_, obliquely glances at the impurities of the Atellane,\nwhose licentious ribaldry, as hath been observed, would, of course,\ninfect the first essays of the Roman satyr.\n\nBut these rules so necessary to be followed in the _satyric_, are (to\nobserve it by the way) still more essential to the PASTORAL poem: the\nfortunes and character of which (though numberless volumes have been\nwritten upon it) may be given in few words.\n\nThe prodigious number of writings, called Pastoral, which have been\ncurrent in all times, and in all languages, shews there is something\nvery taking in this poem. And no wonder, since it addresses itself to\nTHREE leading principles in human nature, THE LOVE OF EASE, THE LOVE\nOF BEAUTY, and THE MORAL SENSE: such pieces as these being employed\nin representing to us the TRANQUILLITY, the INNOCENCE, and the\nSCENERY, of the rural life. But though these ideas are of themselves\nagreeable, good sense will not be satisfied unless they appear to have\nsome foundation in truth and nature. And even, then, their impression\nwill be but faint, if they are not, further, employed to _convey\ninstruction_, or _interest the heart_.\n\nHence the different _forms_, under which this poem hath appeared.\nTHEOCRITUS thought it sufficient to give a _reality_ to his pictures of\nthe rural manners. But in so doing it was too apparent that his draught\nwould often be coarse and unpleasing. And, in fact, we find that his\nshepherds, contrary to the poet\u2019s rule,\n\n    \u2014\u2014_immunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta_.\n\nVIRGIL avoided this extreme. Without departing very widely from the\nsimplicity of rustic nature, his shepherds are more decent, their\nlives more serene, and, in general, the scene more inviting. But the\nrefinements of his age not well agreeing to these simple delineations,\nand his views in writing not being merely to _entertain_, he saw fit\nto allegorize these agreeable fancies, and make them the vehicles of\n_historical_, and sometimes even of _philosophic_, information.\n\nOur SPENSER wanted to engross all the beauties of his masters: and so,\nto the artless and too natural drawing of the _Greek_, added the deep\nallegoric design of the _Latin_, poet.\n\nOne easily sees that this \u00e6nigmatic cast of the pastoral was meant\nto give it an air of instruction, and to make it a reasonable\nentertainment to such as would nauseate a sort of writing,\n\n    \u201cWhere pure description held the place of sense.\u201d\n\nBut this refinement was out of place, as not only inconsistent with\nthe simplicity of the pastoral character, but as tending to rob us in\na good degree of the _pleasure_, which these amusing and picturesque\npoems are intended to give.\n\nOthers therefore took another route. The famous TASSO, by an effort\nof genius which hath done him more honour than even his epic talents,\nproduced a new kind of pastoral, by engrafting it on the drama. And\nunder this form, pastoral poetry became all the vogue. The charming\nAMINTAS was even commented by the greatest scholars and critics. It was\nread, admired, and imitated by all the world.\n\nThere is no need to depreciate the fine copies that were taken of\nit, in Italy. But those by our own poets were, by far, the best.\nSHAKESPEARE had, indeed, set the example of something like pastoral\ndramas, in our language; and in his _Winter\u2019s Tale_, _As ye like\nit_, and some other of his pieces, has enchanted every body with his\nnatural sylvan manners, and sylvan scenes. But FLETCHER set himself,\nin earnest, to emulate the Italian, yet still with an eye of reverence\ntowards the English, poet. In his _faithful shepherdess_ he surpasses\nthe _former_, in the variety of his paintings and the beauty of his\nscene; and only falls short of the _latter_, in the truth of manners,\nand a certain original grace of invention which no imitation can reach.\nThe fashion was now so far established, that every poet of the time\nwould try his hand at a pastoral. Even surly BEN, though he found no\nprecedent for it among his ancients, was caught with the beauty of this\nnovel drama, and, it must be owned, has written above himself in the\nfragment of his _sad shepherd_.\u2014The scene, at length, was closed with\nthe _Comus_ of MILTON, who, in his rural paintings, almost equalled the\nsimplicity and nature of Shakespeare and Fletcher, and, in the purity\nand splendor of his expression, outdid TASSO.\n\nIn this new form of the pastoral, what was childish before, is readily\nadmitted and excused. A simple _moral_ tale being the groundwork of\nthe piece, the charms of description and all the embellishments of\nthe scene are only subservient to the higher purpose of picturing the\nmanners, or touching the heart.\n\nBut the good sense of Shakespeare, or perhaps the felicity of his\ngenius, was admirable. Instead of the deep tragic air of Tasso (which\nhas been generally followed) and his continuance of the pastoral\nstrain, even to satiety, through _five_ acts, he only made use of these\nplayful images to enrich his comic scenes. He saw, I suppose, that\npastoral subjects were unfit to bear a tragic distress. And besides,\nwhen the distress rises to any height, the wantonness of pastoral\nimagery grows distasteful. Where as the genius of comedy admits of\nhumbler distresses; and leaves us at leisure to recreate ourselves with\nthese images, as no way interfering with the draught of characters, or\nthe management of a comic tale. But to make up in _surprize_ what was\nwanting in _passion_, Shakespeare hath, with great judgment, adopted\nthe popular system of Faeries; which, while it so naturally supplies\nthe place of the old sylvan theology, gives a wildness to this sort of\npastoral painting which is perfectly inimitable.\n\nIn a word; if Tasso had the honour of inventing the _pastoral drama_,\nproperly so called, Shakespeare has shewn us the just application of\n_pastoral poetry_; which, however amusing to the imagination, good\nsense will hardly endure, except in a short dialogue, or in some\noccasional dramatic scenes; and in _these_ only, as it serves to the\ndisplay of characters and the conduct of the poet\u2019s plot.\n\nAnd to confirm these observations on pastoral poetry, which may\nbe thought too severe, one may observe that such, in effect, was\nthe judgment passed upon it by that great critic, as well as wit,\nCERVANTES. He concludes his famous adventures, with a kind of project\nfor his knight and squire _to turn shepherds_: an evident ridicule\non the turn of that time for pastoral poems and romances, that were\nbeginning to succeed to their books of heroic knight-errantry. Not, but\nit contains, also, a fine stroke of _moral criticism_, as implying,\nwhat is seen from experience to be too true, that men capable of\nrunning into one enthusiasm are seldom cured of it but by some sudden\ndiversion of the imagination, which drives them into another.\n\nIn conclusion, the reader will scarcely ask me, why, in this deduction\nof the history and genius of pastoral poetry, I have taken no notice of\nwhat has been written of this kind, in France; which, if it be not the\nmost _unpoetical_ nation in Europe, is at least the most _unpastoral_.\nNor is their _criticism_ of this poem much better than their execution.\nA late writer[24] indeed pronounces M. de Fontenelle\u2019s discourse on\npastoral poetry _to be one of the finest pieces of criticism in the\nworld_. For my part, I can only say it is rather more tolerable than\nhis pastorals.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n248. OFFENDENTUR ENIM QUIBUS EST EQUUS ET PATER ET RES.] The poet, in\nhis endeavour to reclaim his countrymen from the _taste obscene_, very\npolitely, by a common figure, represents that as being the _fact_,\nwhich he wished to be so. For what reception the rankest obscenities\nmet with on the Roman stage we learn from Ovid\u2019s account of the success\nof the MIMI:\n\n    _Nobilis hos virgo matronaque, virque puerque,\n      Spectat: et \u00e8 magn\u00e2 parte_ senatus _adest_.\n                                       Trist. ii. v. 501.\n\nThis, indeed, was not till some time after the date of this epistle.\nBut we may guess from hence what must have been the tendency of the\ngeneral disposition, and may see to how little effect the poet had\nlaboured to divert the public attention from the _Mimes_ to his\nreformed _Atellanes_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n251. SYLLABA LONGA BREVI, &c.] This whole critique on the satyrs\nconcludes with some directions about the Iambic verse. When the\ncommentary asserts, that this metre was common to tragedy and the\nsatyrs, this is not to be taken strictly; the satyrs, in this respect,\nas in every other, sustaining a sort of intermediate character betwixt\ntragedy and comedy. For, accurately speaking, their proper measure, as\nthe Grammarians teach, was the Iambic enlivened with the tribrachys.\n\u201c_Gaudent_ [Victor. l. ii. c. met. Iamb.] _trisyllabo pede et maxime\ntribrache_.\u201d Yet there was likeness enough to consider this whole\naffair of the metre under the same head. The Roman dramatic writers\nwere very careless in their versification, which arose, as is hinted,\nv. 259, from an immoderate and undistinguishing veneration of their old\npoets.\n\nIn conclusion of all that has been delivered on the subject of these\n_satyrs_, it may be amusing to the learned reader to hear a celebrated\nFrench critic express himself in the following manner: \u201c_Les Romains\ndonnoient_ encore le nom de Satyre \u00e0 une espece de _Piece Pastorale_;\nqui tenoit, _dit on_ le milieu entre la Tragedie et la Comedie. _C\u2019est\ntout ce que nous en s\u00e7avons._\u201d [_Mem. de l\u2019Hist. des Belles Lett._ tom.\nxvii. p. 211.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n264. ET DATA ROMANIS VENIA EST INDIGNA POETIS.] It appears certainly,\nthat what is said here concerning the metre of dramatic poems, was\npeculiarly calculated for the correction of the Roman negligence, and\ninaccuracy in this respect. This, if it had not been so expresly told\nus, would have been seen from the few remaining fragments of the old\nLatin plays, in which a remarkable carelessness of numbers is observed.\nThis gives a presumption, that, with the like advantage of consulting\nthem, it would also appear, that the rest of the poet\u2019s rules were\ndirected to the same end, and that even such, as are delivered in the\nmost absolute and general form, had a peculiar reference, agreeably\nto what is here taught of the plan of this poem, to the corresponding\ndefects in the state of the Roman stage.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n270. AT VESTRI PROAVI PLAUTINOS ET NUMEROS ET LAUDAVERE SALES; NIMIUM\nPATIENTER UTRUMQUE, NE DICAM STULTE, MIRATI;] It hath been thought\nstrange, that Horace should pass so severe a censure on the _wit_ of\nPlautus, which yet appeared to Cicero so admirable, that he speaks of\nit as _elegans, urbanum, ingeniosum, facetum_. [De Off. i. 29.] Nor can\nit be said, that this difference of judgment was owing to the improved\ndelicacy of taste for wit, in the Augustan age, since it doth not\nappear, that Horace\u2019s own jokes, when he attempts to divert us in this\nway, are at all better than Cicero\u2019s.\n\nThe common answer, so far as it respects the poet, is, I believe, the\ntrue one: \u201cthat endeavouring to beat down the excessive veneration\nof the elder Roman poets, and, among the rest (as appears from 2 Ep.\ni. and A. P. 54.) of Plautus, he censures, without reserve, every\nthe least defect in his writings; though, in general, he agreed with\nCicero in admiring him.\u201d But then this was all. For that he was not\nso over-nice as to dislike Plautus\u2019 wit in the main, and, but in this\nview, probably had not criticized him at all, I collect from his\nexpress approbation of the wit of the old _comedy_; which certainly was\nnot more delicate, than that of _Plautus_.\n\n                                _ridiculum acri\n    Fortius et melius magnas plerumque secat res.\n    Illi, scripta quibus com\u0153dia prisca viris est,\n    Hoc stabant_, HOC SUNT IMITANDI.\n                                        I S. x. 15.\n\nI know, it hath been thought, that, even in this very place, where\nhe censures the wit of Plautus, he directs us _ad Gr\u00e6ca exemplaria_,\ni. e. as his critics understand him, to Aristophanes, and the other\nwriters of the old Comedy; but such a direction in this place, were\naltogether improper, and the supposition is, besides, a palpable\nmistake. For the _Gr\u00e6ca exemplaria_ are referred to _only_, as models\nin exact versification, as the tenor of the place fully shews. And\nwhat Horace afterwards remarks on the wit of Plautus, in addition\nto the observations on metre, is a new and distinct criticism, and\nhath no kind of reference to the preceding direction. But still, as I\nsaid, Horace appears no such enemy to the old comic wit, as, without\nthe particular reason assigned, to have so severely condemned it. The\ndifficulty is to account for Cicero\u2019s so peculiar admiration of it, and\nthat a taste, otherwise so exact, as his, should delight in the coarse\nhumour of Plautus, and the old comedy. The case, I believe, was this:\n\nCicero had imbibed a strong relish of the frank and libertine wit of\nthe old comedy, as best suited to the genius of popular eloquence;\nwhich, though it demands to be tempered with some urbanity, yet never\nattains its end so effectually, as when let down and accommodated, in\nsome certain degree, to the general taste and manners of the people.\nThis Cicero in effect owns, when he tells us, the main end of jesting\nat the bar [De Orat. ccxl.] is, not to acquire the credit of consummate\nhumour, but to carry the cause, _ut proficiamus aliquid_: that is, _to\nmake an impression on the people_; which is generally, we know, better\ndone by a coarser joke, than by the elegance of refined raillery.\nAnd that this was the real ground of Cicero\u2019s preference of the old\ncomedy to the new, may be concluded, not only from the nature of the\nthing, and his own example (for he was ever reckoned intemperate in\nhis jests, which by no means answer to the elegance of his character)\nbut is certainly collected from what Quintilian, in his account of\nit, expresly observes of the old comedy, _Nescio an ulla poesis (post\nHomerum) aut similior sit oratoribus, aut ad oratores faciendos\naptior_. The reason, doubtless, was, that _strength_, and _prompt and\neloquent freedom_, _Vires et facundissima libertas_, which he had\nbefore observed, so peculiarly belonged to it.\n\nAnd this, I think, will go some way towards clearing an embarrassing\ncircumstance in the history of the Roman learning, which I know not,\nif any writer hath yet taken notice of. It is, that though Menander\nand the authors of the new comedy were afterwards admired, as the only\nmasters of the comic drama, yet this does not appear to have been\nseen, or, at least, so fully acknowledged, by the Roman writers, till\nafter the Augustan age; notwithstanding that the Roman taste was, from\nthat time, visibly declining. The reason, I doubt not, was, that the\npopular eloquence, which continued, in a good degree of vigour, to that\ntime, participating more of the freedom of the _old_ comic banter,\nand rejecting, as improper to its end, the refinements of the _new_,\ninsensibly depraved the public taste; which, by degrees only, and not\ntill a studied and cautious declamation had, by the necessary influence\nof absolute power, succeeded to the liberty of their old oratory,\nwas fully reconciled to the delicacy and strict decorum of Menander\u2019s\nwit. Even the case of Terence, which, at first sight, might seem to\nbear hard against it, confirms this account. This poet, struck with\nthe supreme elegance of Menander\u2019s manner, and attempting too soon,\nbefore the public taste was sufficiently formed for it, to bring it on\nthe stage, had occasion for all the credit, his noble patrons could\ngive him, to support himself against the popular clamour. What was the\nobject of that _clamour_, we learn from a curious passage in one of his\nprologues, where his adversary is made to object,\n\n                  _Quas\u2014fecit\u2014fabulas\n    Tenui esse oratione et scriptura levi_.\n                                Prol. ad Phorm.\n\nThe sense of which is not, as his commentators have idly thought, _that\nhis style was low and trifling_, for this could never be pretended, but\n_that his dialogue was insipid, and his characters, and, in general,\nhis whole composition, without that comic heightening, which their\nvitiated tastes required_. This further appears from those common\nverses of C\u00e6sar, where, characterizing the genius of Terence\u2019s plays,\nas devoid of this comic spirit, he calls them _lenia scripta_:\n\n    LENIBUS _atque utinam_ SCRIPTIS _adjuncta foret vis_\n    COMICA:\n\nwords, which are the clearest comment on the lines in question.\n\nBut this famous judgment of C\u00e6sar deserves to be scrutinized more\nnarrowly. For it may be said \u201cthat by _vis comica_ I suppose him to\nmean the comic drollery of the _old_ and _middle_ comedy; whereas it is\nmore probable he meant the elegant but high humour of the best writers\nof the _new_, particularly of Menander; why else doth he call Terence,\n\u201c_Dimidiate Menander_?\u201d There is the more force in this objection,\nbecause _the elegant but high humour_, here mentioned, is of the truest\nmerit in comedy; and because Menander, of whom the ancients speak so\nhonourably, and whom we only know by their encomiums, may be reasonably\nthought to have excelled in it. What occurs in answer to it, is this.\n\n1. The Ancients are generally allowed to have had very little of what\nwe now understand by _comic humour_. Lucian is the _first_, indeed the\nonly one, who hath properly left us any considerable specimens of it.\nAnd he is almost modern with regard to the writers under consideration.\nBut,\n\n2. That _Menander and the writers of the new comedy did not excel in\nit_, is probable for these reasons.\n\n1. The most judicious critic of antiquity, when he is purposely\nconsidering the excellencies of the Greek comedians, and, what is more,\nexposing the comparative deficiencies of the Roman, says not a word\nof it. He thinks, indeed, that _Terence\u2019s_, which yet he pronounces\nto be most elegant, is but the faintest shadow of the Greek, comedy.\nBut then his reason is, _quod sermo ipse Romanus non recipere videatur\nillam solis concessam Atticis venerem_. [L. x. 1.] It seems then as\nif the main defect, which this critic observed in Terence\u2019s comedy,\nwas a want of that inexplicable grace of language, which so peculiarly\nbelonged to the Greeks; a grace of so subtle a nature that even they\ncould only catch it in one dialect\u2014_quando eam ne Gr\u00e6ci quidem in alio\ngenere lingu\u00e6 non obtinuerint_. [Ib.]\u201d\n\n2. Some of Terence\u2019s plays may be almost said to be direct translations\nfrom Menander. And the comic humour, supposed in the objection, being\nof the truest taste, no reason can be imagined why the poet should so\nindustriously avoid to transfuse this last and highest grace into his\ncomedy. Especially since the popular cry against him proceeded from\nhence, that he was wanting in comic pleasantry; a _want_, which by a\nstricter attention to this virtue of his great original, supposing\nMenander to have been possessed of it, he might so easily have\nsupplied. And lest it should be thought he omitted to do this, as not\nconceiving any thing of this _virtue_, or as not approving it, we find\nin him, but rarely indeed, some delicate touches, which approach as\nnearly as any thing in antiquity to this genuine comic humour. Of which\nkind is that in the _Hecyra_:\n\n    _Tum tu igitur nihil adtulisti huc plus un\u00e2 sententi\u00e2?_\n\nFor these reasons I should suppose that _Menander_ and the writers of\nthe new comedy, from whom Terence copied, had little of this beauty.\n\nBut what shall we say then to C\u00e6sar\u2019s _dimidiate Menander_? It refers,\nI believe, solely to what Quintilian, as we have seen, observed, that,\nwith all his emulation of Attic elegance, he was unable, through the\nnative stubbornness of the Latin tongue, to come up to the Greek\ncomedy. The very text of C\u00e6sar leads to this meaning.\n\n    _Tu quoque, tu in summis, \u00f4 dimidiate Menander,\n    Poneris, et merito_, PURI SERMONIS AMATOR.\n\nHis excellence consisted in the _purity and urbanity of his\nexpression_, in which praise if he still fell short of his master, the\nfault was not in him, but the intractability of his language. And in\nthis view C\u00e6sar\u2019s address carries with it the highest _compliment_.\nQuintilian had said in relation to this point, _Vix levem consequimur\numbram_. But C\u00e6sar, in a fond admiration of his merit, cries out,\n\n    _Tu quoque_, TU _in summis_, \u00d4 DIMIDIATE MENANDER.\n\nHis _censure_ of him is delivered in the following lines:\n\n    _Lenibus atque utinam scriptis adjuncta foret vis\n    Comica, ut \u00e6quato virtus polleret honore\n    Cum Gr\u00e6cis, neque in h\u00e2c despectus parte jaceres;\n    Unum hoc maceror et doleo tibi deesse, Terenti._\n\nWhich, again, gives no countenance to the supposition of Menander\u2019s\nexcelling in _comic humour_. For he does not say, that with the\naddition of this talent he had equalled _Menander_, but in general, the\nGREEKS\u2014_\u00e6quato virtus polleret honore cum_ GR\u00c6CIS. And this was what\noccasioned C\u00e6sar\u2019s regret. He wished to see him unite all the merits of\nthe Greek comedy. As far as the Latin tongue would permit, he had shewn\nhimself a master of the elegance of the _new_. What he further required\nin him was the strong wit and satyr of the _old_. His favourite had\nthen rivalled, in every praise, the Greek writers.\n\nAnd, if this be admitted, nothing hinders but that by _vis comica_\nC\u00e6sar may be understood to mean (how consistently with the admired\nurbanity of Terence is not the question) the comic pleasantry of the\nmiddle or old comedy.\n\nThe thing indeed could hardly be otherwise. For Plautus, who chiefly\ncopied, from the _middle_ comedy, had, by the drollery of his wit,\nand the buffoon pleasantry of his scenes, so enchanted the people\nas to continue the reigning favourite of the stage, even long after\nAfranius and Terence had appeared on it. Nay the humour continued\nthrough the Augustan age[25], when, as we learn from Horace, in many\nparts of his writings, the public applause still followed Plautus; in\nwhom though himself could see many faults, yet he does not appear\nto have gone so far, as, upon the whole, to give the preference to\nTerence. Afterwards indeed the case altered. Paterculus admires; and\nPlutarch and Quintilian are perfectly charmed: _ita omnem vit\u00e6 imaginem\nexpressit, ita est omnibus rebus, personis, affectibus accommodatus_.\nThis character, one would think, should have fitted him also for a\ncomplete model to the orator. And this, as might be expected, was\nQuintilian\u2019s opinion. For, though he saw, as appears from the passage\nalready quoted, that the writers of the old comedy were, in fact,\n_the likest to orators, and the most proper to form them to the\npractice of the Forum_, yet, in admiration of the absolute perfection\nof Menander\u2019s manner, and criticising him by the rules of a just and\naccurate rhetoric, and not at all in the views of a practical orator,\nhe pronounces him to be a complete pattern of oratorial excellence:\n_vel unus, diligenter lectus, ad cuncta efficienda sufficiat_, l. x.\nc. 1. Yet Cicero, it seems, thought otherwise; for he scarcely, as I\nremember, mentions the name of Menander in his rhetorical books, though\nhe is very large in commending the authors of the old Greek comedy. The\nreason was unquestionably that we have been explaining: The delicate\nobservance of decorum, for which this poet was so famous, _in omnibus\nmire custoditur ab hoc poeta decorum_, rendered him an unfit model for\na popular speaker, especially in Rome, where an orator was much more\nlikely to carry his point by the _vis comica_, the _broader mirth_\nof Aristophanes, or Plautus, than by the delicate railleries, and\nexquisite paintings of Menander, or Terence.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n273. SI MODO EGO ET VOS SCIMUS INURBANUM LEPIDO SEPONERE DICTO.] It was\nvery late ere the ancients became acquainted with this distinction.\nIndeed it does not appear, they ever possessed it in that supreme\ndegree, which might have been expected from their exquisite discernment\nin other instances. Even Horace himself, though his pictures of life\nare commonly the most delicate, and wrought up in the highest beauty\nof humour, yet, when he affects the _plaisant_, and purposely aims\nat the comic style and manner, is observed to sink beneath himself\nextremely. The truth is, there is something low, and what the French\ncall _grossier_, in the whole cast of ancient wit; which is rather a\nkind of rude, illiberal satire, than a just and temperate ridicule,\nrestrained by the exact rules of civility and good sense. This a\ncelebrated writer, who seems willing to think the most favourably of\nthe ancient wits, in effect owns, when, after quoting certain instances\nof their raillery, he says, _Ces exemples, quoique vifs et bons en\nleur genre, ont qu\u00eblque chose de trop dur, qui ne s\u2019accommoderoit pas\n\u00e0 n\u00f4tre maniere de vivre; et ce seroit ce que nous appellons rompre en\nvisiers, que de dire en face des veritez aussi forts que celles-l\u00e0_.\n[Rec. de bons Contes et de bons Mots, p. 89.] This rudeness,\ncomplained of, appears in nothing more evident, than in their perpetual\nbanter on corporal infirmities, which runs through all the wits both\nof Greece and Rome. And to shew us, that this was not a practice,\nthey allowed themselves in against rule, Cicero mentions corporal\ninfirmities [De Or. l. ii. c. 59.] as one of the most legitimate\nsources of the RIDICULOUS. _Est deformitatis et corporis vitiorum satis\nbella materies._ And in another place, _Valde ridentur etiam imagines,\nqu\u00e6 fere in deformitatem, aut in aliquod vitium corporis ducuntur cum\nsimilitudine turpioris_, &c. [ib. c. 66.] And this, which is very\nremarkable, though they saw the absurdity of it, as appears from the\nanswer of Lamia, recorded by Cicero, to a joke of this kind, _Non potui\nmihi formam ipse fingere_, [ib. c. 65.] The universal prevalence of a\npractice so absurd in itself, and seen by themselves to be so, in the\ntwo politest states of the old world, must needs have sprung from some\nvery _general_, and _powerful_ cause; which, because it hath not, that\nI know of, been considered by any writer, I shall here attempt to open\nand explane. The subject is curious, and would require a volume to do\nit justice. I can only hint at the principal reasons, which appear to\nme to have been these.\n\nI. _The free and popular government of those states._ This, preserving\nan equality of condition, and thereby spreading a fearlessness and\nindependency through all ranks and orders of men, of course produced\nand indulged the utmost freedom of expression, uninfluenced by hopes\nof favour, and unawed by fear of personal offence; the two sources,\nfrom whence the civility of a more cautious ridicule is derived. Now\nof all the species of raillery, the most natural and _obvious_ to a\npeople unrestrained by these causes, is ever the _coarsest_, such as\nthat on corporal deformities; as appears from its prevailing every\nwhere, in all forms of government, among the lowest of the people,\nbetwixt whom those causes never subsist. But this reason involves in\nit some particulars, which deserve to be considered. 1. The _orators_,\nwho catched it from the constitution themselves, contributed in\ntheir turn to forward and help on this disposition to uncivilized\nmirth. For, the form of their government requiring immediate, and\nalmost continual, applications to the people; and the nature of such\napplications giving frequent exercise to their wit, it was natural for\nthem to suit it to the capacities of their auditory; if indeed they had\nseen better themselves. Thus we find the orators in the Forum, even\nin the later times of the Roman republic, exposing their adversary to\nthe broad mirth of the populace, by enlarging on his _low stature_,\n_ugly face_, or _distorted chin_. Instances of which may be met with\nin Cicero\u2019s treatise De oratore; and even, as hath been observed, in\nsome orations and other pieces of Cicero himself. 2. From the _Forum_\nthe humour insensibly spread amongst all orders, and particularly,\namongst the writers for the stage, where it was kept up in its full\nvigour, or rather heightened to a further extravagance, the laughter\nof the people being its more immediate and direct aim. But, the stage\nnot only conformed, as of course it would, to the spirit of the times\n(which, for the reason already given, were none of the most observant\nof decorum) but, as we shall also find, it had perhaps the greatest\ninfluence in _producing and forming that spirit itself_. This will\nappear, if we recollect, in few words, _the rise, progress, and\ncharacter of the ancient stage_.\n\nThe Greek drama, we know, had its origin from the loose, licentious\nraillery of the rout of Bacchus, indulging to themselves the freest\nsallies of taunt and invective, as would best suit to lawless natures,\ninspirited by festal mirth, and made extravagant by wine. Hence\narose, and with a character answering to this original, the _satyric\ndrama_; the spirit of which was afterwards, in good measure, revived\nand continued in the old comedy, and itself preserved, though with\nconsiderable alteration in the form, through all the several periods of\nthe Greek stage; even when tragedy, which arose out of it, was brought\nto its last perfection. Much the same may be observed of the _Roman_\ndrama, which, we are told, had its rise in the unrestrained festivity\nof the rustic youth. This gave occasion to their _Satyr\u00e6_, that is,\nmedleys of an irregular form, acted for the diversion of the people.\nAnd, when afterwards Livius Andronicus had, by a further reform,\nreduced these _Satyr\u00e6_ into regular tragedies, another species of\nbuffoon ridicule was cultivated, under the name of _Atellan\u00e6 fabul\u00e6_;\nwhich, according to Diomedes\u2019 character of them, _were replete with\njocular witticisms, and very much resembled the Greek satyrs_. _Dictis\njocularibus refert\u00e6, similes fere sunt satyricis fabulis Gr\u00e6corum._\nThese were ever after retained, and annexed to their most regular\ndramatic entertainments in Rome, just as the _satyrs_ were in Greece;\nand this (as was seen in its place) though much pains was taken to\nreform, if not wholly remove, them. But to shew how strong the passion\nof the Romans was for this rude illiberal banter, even the licentious\ncharacter of the _Atellanes_ did not fully satisfy them; but, as\nif they were determined to stick to their genuine rusticity, they\ncontinued the _Satyr\u00e6_ themselves, under the name of _Exodia_, that is\nfarces of the grossest and most absurd composition; which, to heighten\nthe mirth of the day, were commonly interwoven with the Atellane\npieces. The reason of the continuance of such ribaldry in the politest\nages of Greece and Rome hath been inquired into. At present it appears,\nwhat effect it must necessarily have upon the public taste.\n\nII. Another cause connected with the foregoing, and rising out of\nit, seems to have been the festal licence of particular seasons,\nsuch as the _Dionysia_ and _Panathen\u00e6a_, amongst the Greeks; and\nthe _Bacchanalia_ and _Saturnalia_, at Rome. These latter, it is\nobservable, were continued to the latest period of the Roman empire,\npreserving in them an image, as well of the frank and libertine wit of\ntheir old stage, as of the original equality and independency of their\nold times. Quintilian thinks, that, with some regulation, good use\nmight have been made of these seasons of licence, for the cultivating\na just spirit of raillery in the orators of his time. As it was, there\nis no doubt, they helped much to vitiate and deprave it. His words\nare these: _Quin ill\u00e6 ips\u00e6, qu\u00e6_ DICTA _sunt ac vocantur, quas certis\ndiebus fest\u00e6 licenti\u00e6 dicere solebamus, si paulum adhibita ratione\nfingerentur, aut aliquid in his serium quoque esset admixtum, plurimum\npoterunt utilitatis afferre: qu\u00e6 nunc juvenum, aut sibi ludentium\nexercitatio est._ [Quint. l. iv. c. 3.] Besides, in Greece, the jester\nwas a character by profession, necessary to the pleasantry of private\nfeasts, and, as we learn from the fine satyr in Xenophon\u2019s _Symposium_,\neven in that polite age, welcome to all companies[26].\n\nFrom these reasons I think it not difficult to account for the\ncoarseness of ancient wit. The free genius of the Greek and Roman\nconstitution was unquestionably its main spring and support. But,\nwhen this character of their government was seconded by the freedom\nof their demagogues, the petulance of the stage, and the uncontrouled\nlicence of recurring festival solemnities, it was no wonder, the\nilliberal manner so thoroughly infected all ranks and degrees of\nthe people, as by no after diligence and refinement wholly to be\nremoved. And this theory is indeed confirmed by _fact_. For, when now\nthe tyranny of one man had ingrossed the power, and oppressed the\nliberties, of Greece, their stage refined, their wit polished, and\nMenander wrote. And though a thorough reform was never made in the\nRoman stage, partly, as Quintilian thinks, from the intractability of\ntheir language, but chiefly, it may be, as to the point in question,\nfrom the long continuance of their rude farcical shews, yet something\nlike this appears to have followed upon the loss of their freedom;\nas is plain from the improved delicacy of their later critics; who,\nas Quintilian and Plutarch, are very profuse in their encomiums on\nMenander, and the _new_ comedy; whereas we find little said of it\nby the Augustan writers, who seem generally to have preferred the\ncoarser wit and pleasantry of the _old_. The state of modern wit too\nconfirms this account. For it has grown up, for the most part, under\nlimited monarchies, in which their scenical entertainments were more\nmoderate, or for plain reasons must less affect the public taste.\nWhenever therefore a turn for letters has prevailed, a poignant, but\nliberal kind of wit hath generally sprung up with it. Where it is worth\nobserving, the growing tyranny in some states hath either extinguished\nit intirely, or refined it into an effeminate and timid delicacy, as\nthe growing licentiousness in others hath sunk it into a rude and\nbrutal coarseness; whilst by a due mixture of liberty and letters, we\nhave seen it acquire a proper temperament at home, and, as managed\nby our best writers, exhibit a specimen of that strong, yet elegant\nridicule, which hath never yet been equalled by any other nation in the\nworld.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n275. IGNOTUM TRAGICAE GENUS INVENISSE CAMENAE, &c.] The poet, having\njust remarked the negligence of the Roman writers, in two or three\ninstances, and, at the same time recommended to them the superior care\nand accuracy of the Greeks (all which is elegantly preparatory to the\nlast division of the epistle) proceeds in a short view of the Greek\ndrama, to insinuate, as well the successful pains of the Greek writers,\nas the real state of the Roman stage; the complete glory of which could\nonly be expected, as immediately follows, from a spirit of diligence\nand correctness. As this whole connexion is clear and easy, so is the\npeculiar method, in which it is conducted, extremely proper. 1. To\nshew, how great the advantage of their situation was over that of the\nGreeks, he observes, that the latter had the whole constitution of the\ndrama to invent and regulate; which yet, by the application and growing\nexperience of their poets, was soon effected; their tragedy, all rude\nand shapeless, as it was, in the cart of Thespis, appearing in its just\nform and proportion on the stage of \u00c6schylus; and their comedy also\n(which, from that time, began to be cultivated) asserting its proper\ncharacter, and, but for the culpable omission of a chorus, reaching the\nfull extent and perfection of its kind.\n\n2. To shew, what still remained to them, he brings down the history of\ntragedy no lower than \u00c6schylus; under whom it received its due form and\nall the essentials of its nature, yet still wanted, to its absolute\nperfection, the further accuracy and correctness of a Sophocles. And,\nfor their comedy, he hints the principal defect of that; its omission,\nafter the manner of the new comedy, of the chorus. There is great\naddress in this conduct. The censure also implied in it, is perfectly\njust. For, 1. the character of the Roman tragedy, in the times of\nHorace, was exactly that of \u00c6schylus. \u00c6schylus, says Quintilian,\nwas the first, \u201c_qui protulit trag\u0153dias_,\u201d i. e. who composed true\nlegitimate tragedies, _sublimis et gravis et grandiloquus s\u00e6pe usque ad\nvitium; sed rudis in plerisque et incompositus_ [L. x. c. i.] the very\ndescription, which Horace gives [2 Ep. i. 165.] of the Roman tragedy.\n\n                      _natura sublimis et acer,\n    Nam spirat tragicum satis et feliciter audet;\n    Sed turpem putat inscitus metuitque lituram._\n\n2. The state of their comedy, as managed by their best writers,\nAfranius and Terence, was, indeed, much more complete; yet wanted the\nchorus, which, in the judgment of the poet, it seems, was equally\nnecessary to the perfection of this, as of the other drama.\n\n3. But the application is made in express terms.\n\n    _Nil intentatum nostri liquere poet\u00e6_, &c.\n\n_i. e._ our poets, as well as the Greek, have, in some degree, applied\nthemselves to improve and regulate the stage. In particular, a late\ninnovation, in taking their subjects, both of tragedy and comedy, from\ndomestic facts, is highly to be applauded. Their sole disadvantage is,\n_a neglect or contempt of that labour and accuracy, which gave the last\nperfection to the Greek scene_.\n\nAfter this clear and natural exposition of the connexion of these\nlines, all the difficulties, that have been found in them by certain\ngreat critics, vanish of themselves. And the reader now sees (what\nthe sagacious Heinsius thought impossible to be shewn) an \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03b8\u03af\u03b1\u03bd,\nor consistent, natural order in this part of the epistle; which was\nin imminent danger of losing all its grace and beauty, by the wild\ntranspositions of that critic.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n278. POST HUNC PERSONAE PALLAEQUE, &c.] M. _Dacier_ hath here puzzled\nhimself with a difficulty of his own raising. He wonders, that Horace\nshould omit, in this history, the other improvements of \u00c6schylus,\nmentioned by Aristotle, and that Aristotle, in his turn, should omit\nthose, mentioned by Horace. The truth is, neither of them intended\na complete account of the improvements of the Greek stage; but only\nso much of them, as was necessary to the views of each. Aristotle,\ntreating of the _internal_ constitution of the drama, speaks of such\nchanges, made in it by \u00c6schylus, as respected that end. Horace,\ntreating in general of its _form_, as perfected by the pains and\napplication of the same poet, selects those improvements only, which\ncontrast best to the rude essays of Thespis, and, while they imply the\nrest, exhibit tragedy, as it were, in her proper person, on the stage.\nThe reader feels the effect of this in the poetry.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n288. VEL QUI PRAETEXTAS, VEL QUI DOCUERE TOGATAS.] There hath been\nmuch difficulty here in settling a very plain point. The question is,\nwhether _pr\u00e6textas_ means _tragedy_, or a species of _comedy_? The\nanswer is very clear from Diomedes, whose account is, in short, this.\n\u201c^{1}_Togat\u00e6_ is a general term for all sorts of Latin plays, adopting\nthe Roman customs and dresses; as _Palliat\u00e6_ is, for all, adopting the\nGr\u00e6cian. Of the _Togat\u00e6_, the several ^{2}species are, 1. _Pr\u00e6texta_, or\n_Pr\u00e6textata_, in which Roman kings and generals were introduced, and\nis so called, because the _pr\u00e6texta_ was the distinguishing habit of\nsuch persons. 2. _Tabernaria_, frequently called ^{3}_Togata_, though\nthat word, as we have seen, had properly a larger sense. 3. _Atellana._\n4. _Planipedis._\u201d He next marks the difference of these several sorts\nof _Togat\u00e6_, from the similar, corresponding ones of the _Palliat\u00e6_,\nwhich are these: \u201c1. ^{4}Trag\u0153dia, absolutely so styled. 2. ^{5}Com\u0153dia,\n3. ^{6}Satyri. 4. ^{7}\u039c\u1fd6\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2.\u201d [These four sorts of the _palliat\u00e6_ were\nalso probably in use at Rome; certainly, at least, the two former.]\nIt appears then from hence, that _pr\u00e6textata_ was properly the Roman\ntragedy. But he adds, \u201c_Togata pr\u00e6textata \u00e0 trag\u0153dia differt_, and it\nis also said, _to be only like tragedy_, _trag\u0153di\u00e6 similis_.\u201d What is\nthis difference and this likeness? The explanation follows. \u201c^{8}Heroes\nare introduced in _tragedy_, such as Orestes, Chryses, and the like. In\nthe _pr\u00e6textata_, Brutus, Decius, or Marcellus.\u201d So then we see, when\nGr\u00e6cian characters were introduced, it was called simply _trag\u0153dia_;\nwhen Roman, _pr\u00e6textata_; yet both, tragedies. The sole difference lay\nin the persons being foreign or domestic. The correspondence in every\nother respect was exact. The same is observed of the Roman comedy; when\nit adopted ^{9}Greek characters, it was called _com\u0153dia_: when Roman,\n^{20}_Togata Tabernaria_, or ^{3}_Togata_, simply. That the reader may\nassure himself of the fidelity of this account, let him take it at\nlarge, in the Grammarian\u2019s own words. \u201c^{1}Togat\u00e6 fabul\u00e6 dicuntur, qu\u00e6\nscript\u00e6 sunt secundum ritus et habitus hominum togatorum, id est,\nRomanorum (Toga namque Romana est), sicut Gr\u00e6cas fabulas ab habitu \u00e6que\npalliatas Varro ait nominari. ^{3}Togatas autem cum sit generale nomen,\nspecialiter tamen pro tabernariis, non modo communis error usurpat,\nsed et poet\u00e6.\u2014Togatarum fabularum ^{2}species tot fere sunt, quot et\npalliatarum. Nam prima species est togatarum, qu\u00e6 pr\u00e6textat\u00e6 dicuntur,\nin quibus imperatorum negotia agebantur et publica, et reges Romani vel\nduces inducuntur, personarum et argumentorum sublimitate ^{4}trag\u0153diis\nsimiles: Pr\u00e6textat\u00e6 autem dicuntur, quia fere regum vel magistratuum,\nqui pr\u00e6texta utuntur, in hujusmodi fabulis acta comprehenduntur.\nSecunda species togatarum, qu\u00e6 tabernari\u00e6 dicuntur, humilitate\npersonarum et argumentorum similitudine ^{5}com\u0153diis pares\u2014Tertia\nspecies est fabularum latinarum, qu\u00e6\u2014Atellan\u00e6 dict\u00e6 sunt, similes\n^{6}satyricis fabulis, Gr\u00e6cis. Quarta species est planipedis, Gr\u00e6ce\ndicitur ^{7}\u039c\u1fd6\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2.\u2014Togata pr\u00e6textata, \u00e0 ^{4}trag\u0153dia differt. In trag\u0153dia\n^{8}heroes introducuntur. Pacuvius trag\u0153dias nominibus heroicis scripsit\nOresten, Chrysen, et his similia. Item Accius. In pr\u00e6textata autem\nscribitur, Brutus, vel Decius, vel Marcellus. ^{19}Togata tabernaria\n\u00e0 ^{5}com\u0153dia differt, quod in ^{9}com\u0153dia Gr\u00e6ci ritus inducuntur,\nperson\u00e6que Gr\u00e6c\u00e6, Laches, Sostrata. In illa vero Latin\u00e6.\u201d [L. iii.\nc. de Com. et Trag. diff.] With this account of Diomedes agrees\nperfectly that of _Festus_; from which, however, M. Dacier draws a very\ndifferent conclusion. \u201cTogatarum duplex est genus: pr\u00e6textarum\u2014et\ntabernariarum.\u201d His inference is, that pr\u00e6textat\u00e6, as being a species\nof the togat\u00e6, must needs be comedies; not considering that togata is\nhere a generic term, comprehending under it all the several species\nboth of the Roman tragedy and comedy. After what hath been said,\nand especially, after the full and decisive testimony of Diomedes,\nthere can no longer be any doubt about the meaning of _pr\u00e6textas_;\nand one must be surprized to find M. Dacier prefacing his long note\non this place in the following important manner: _C\u2019est un des plus\ndifficiles passages d\u2019Horace, et peut\u00eatre celui qu\u2019il est le plus mal\nais\u00e9 d\u2019eclaircir \u00e0 cause du peu de lumiere que nous donnent les auteurs\nLatins sur tout ce qui regarde leurs pieces de theatre_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n281. SUCCESSIT VETUS HIS COMOEDIA, &c.] _i. e._ Comedy began to be\ncultivated and improved from the time that tragedy had obtained its\nend, \u1f14\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, under \u00c6schylus. There is no reason to\nsuppose, with some critics, that Horace meant to date its origin from\nhence. The supposition is, in truth, contradicted by _experience_ and\nthe _order of things_. For, as a celebrated French writer observes,\n\u201c_Le talent d\u2019imiter, qui nous est naturel, nous porte plut\u00f4t \u00e0\nla comedie qui roule sur des choses de n\u00f4tre connoissance qu\u2019\u00e0 la\nTragedie, qui prend des sujets plus \u00e8loign\u00e9s de l\u2019usage commun; et\nen effet, en Gr\u00e9ce aussi bien qu\u2019en France, la Comedie est l\u2019a\u00een\u00e9e\nde la tragedie_.\u201d [Hist. du Theat. Franc. par M. de Fontenelle.] The\n_latter_ part of this assertion is clear from the piece referred to;\nand the _other_, which respects Greece, seems countenanced by Aristotle\nhimself [\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03b5.] \u2019Tis true, Comedy, though its rise be every\nwhere, at least, as early as that of tragedy, is perfected much later.\nMenander, we know, appeared long after \u00c6schylus. And, though the French\ntragedy, to speak with Aristotle, \u1f14\u03c3\u03c7\u03b5 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03cd\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd in the hands\nof Corneille, this cannot be said of their comedy, which was forced to\nwait for a Moliere, before it arrived at that pitch of perfection. But\nthen this is owing to the superior difficulty of the comic drama. Nor\nis it any objection that the contrary of this happened at Rome. For the\nRomans, when they applied themselves in earnest to the stage, had not\nto invent, but to imitate or rather _translate_, the perfect models of\nGreece. And it chanced, for reasons which I shall not stay to deduce,\nthat their poets had better success in copying their _comedy_, than\n_tragedy_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n284. TURPITER OBTICUIT\u2014] Evidently because, though the _jus nocendi_\nwas taken away, yet that was no good reason, why the chorus should\nentirely cease. M. Dacier mistakes the matter. _Le ch\u0153ur se t\u00fbt\nignominieusement, parceque la loi reprima sa licence, et que ce fut, \u00e0\nproprement parler, la loi qui le bannit; ce qu\u2019 Horace regarde comme\nune espece de fl\u00e9trissure. Properly speaking_, the law only abolished\nthe _abuse_ of the chorus. The ignominy lay in dropping the entire use\nof it, on account of this restraint. Horace was of opinion, that the\nchorus ought to have been retained, though the state had abridged it of\nthe licence, it so much delighted in, of an illimited, and intemperate\nsatyr. _Sublatus chorus fuit_, says Scaliger, _cujus ill\u00e6 videntur esse\npr\u00e6cipu\u00e6 partes, ut potissimum quos liberet, l\u00e6derent_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n286. NEC MINIMUM MERUERE DECUS VESTIGIA GR\u00c6CA AUSI DESERERE ET\nCELEBRARE DOMESTICA FACTA.] This judgment of the poet, recommending\ndomestic subjects, as fittest for the stage, may be inforced from\nmany obvious reasons. As I. that it renders the drama infinitely\nmore _affecting_: and this on many accounts. 1. As a subject, taken\nfrom our own annals, must of course carry with it an air of greater\nprobability, at least to the generality of the people, than one\nborrowed from those of any other nation. 2. As we all find a personal\ninterest in the subject. 3. As it of course affords the best and\neasiest opportunities of catching our minds, by frequent references to\nour manners, prejudices, and customs. And of how great importance this\nis, may be learned from hence, that, even in the exhibition of foreign\ncharacters, dramatic writers have found themselves obliged to sacrifice\ntruth and probability to the humour of the people, and to dress up\ntheir personages, contrary to their own better judgment, in some degree\naccording to the mode and manners of their respective countries[27].\nAnd 4. as the writer himself, from an intimate acquaintance with the\ncharacter and genius of his own nation, will be more likely to draw the\nmanners with life and spirit.\n\nII. Next, which should ever be one great point in view, it renders the\ndrama more generally useful in its moral destination. For, it being\nconversant about domestic acts, the great instruction of the fable more\nsensibly affects us; and the characters exhibited, from the part we\ntake in their good or ill qualities, will more probably influence our\nconduct.\n\nIII. Lastly, this judgment will deserve the greater regard, as the\nconduct recommended was, in fact, the practice of our great models, the\nGreek writers; in whose plays, it is observable, there is scarcely a\nsingle scene, which lies out of the confines of Greece.\n\nBut, notwithstanding these reasons, the practice hath, in all times,\nbeen but little followed. The Romans, after some few attempts in\nthis way (from whence the poet took the occasion of delivering it as\na dramatic precept), soon relapsed into their old use; as appears\nfrom Seneca\u2019s, and the titles of other plays, written in, or after\nthe Augustan age. Succeeding times continued the same attachment to\nGrecian, with the addition of an equal fondness for Roman, subjects.\nThe reason in both instances hath been ever the same: that strong and\nearly prejudice, approaching somewhat to adoration, in favour of the\nillustrious names of those two great states. The account of this matter\nis very easy; for their writings, as they furnish the business of our\nyounger, and the amusement of our riper, years, and more especially\nmake the study of all those, who devote themselves to poetry and the\nstage, insensibly infix in us an excessive veneration for all affairs\nin which they were concerned; insomuch that no other subjects or events\nseem considerable enough, or rise, in any proportion, to our ideas of\nthe dignity of the tragic scene, but such as time and long admiration\nhave consecrated in the annals of their story. Our Shakespeare was,\nI think, the first that broke through this bondage of classical\nsuperstition. And he owed this felicity, as he did some others, to\nhis want of what is called the advantage of a learned education. Thus\nuninfluenced by the weight of early prepossession, he struck at once\ninto the road of nature and common sense: and without designing,\nwithout knowing it, hath left us in his historical plays, with all\ntheir anomalies, an exacter resemblance of the Athenian stage, than is\nany where to be found in its most professed admirers and copyists.\n\nI will only add, that, for the more successful execution of this rule\nof celebrating domestic acts, much will depend on the \u00e6ra, from\nwhence the subject is taken. Times too remote have almost the same\ninconveniences, and none of the advantages, which attend the ages\nof Greece and Rome. And, for those of later date, they are too much\nfamiliarized to us, and have not as yet acquired that venerable cast\nand air, which tragedy demands, and age only can give. There is no\nfixing this point with precision. In the general, that \u00e6ra is the\nfittest for the poet\u2019s purpose, which, though fresh enough in our minds\nto warm and interest us in the event of the action, is yet at so great\na distance from the present times, as to have lost all those mean and\ndisparaging circumstances, which unavoidably adhere to recent deeds,\nand, in some measure, sink the noblest modern transactions to the level\nof ordinary life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n295. INGENIUM MISERA, &c.] _S\u00e6pe audivi poetam bonum neminem (id\nquod \u00e0 Democrito et Platone in scriptis relictum esse dicunt)\nsine inflammatione animorum existere posse et sine quodam afflatu\nquasi furoris._ [Cic. De orat. l. ii. c. xlvi.] And so Petronius,\n_pr\u00e6cipitandus liber spiritus, ut furentis animi vaticinatio appareat_.\n[c. cxviii.] And to the same purpose every good critic, ancient or\nmodern. But who can endure the grimace of those minute _genii_, who,\nbecause the truly inspired, in the ravings of the fit, are _touched_\nwith the flame and fury of enthusiasm, must, therefore, with a tame,\nfrigid fancy, be laying claim to the same fervent and fiery raptures?\nThe fate of these _aspirants_ to divinity is that \u1f10\u03bd\u03b8\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u1fb7\u03bd \u1f11\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2\n\u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03b2\u03b1\u03ba\u03c7\u03b5\u03cd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd [Longin. \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u1f55\u03c8. \u03c4\u03bc\u03b7\u03bc. \u03c7.]\nAnd Quintilian opens the mystery of the whole matter: _Quo quisque\ningenio minus valet, hoc se magis attollere et dilatare conatur: ut\nstatura breves in digitos eriguntur et plura infirmi minantur. Nam\ntumidos et corruptos et tinnulos et quocunque alio cacozeli\u00e6 genere\npeccantes, certum habeo, non virium, sed infirmitatis vitio laborare:\nut corpora non robore, sed valetudine inflantur: et recto itinere lapsi\nplerumque divertunt._ [L. ii. c. 3.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n298. BONA PARS NON UNGUES, &c.] The constant and pitiful affectation of\nthe race before spoken of, who, with the modesty of laying claim to the\n_thing_, will be sure not to omit the _sign_, and so, from fancying an\ninspiration, they have _not_ come to adopt every foppery, that has ever\ndisgraced it in those who _have_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n308. QUID DECEAT, QUID NON:] _Nihil est difficilius quam_, quid deceat,\n_videre._ \u03a0\u03c1\u03ad\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd _appellant hoc Gr\u00e6ci: nos dicamus sane_ Decorum. _De\nquo pr\u00e6clare et multa pr\u00e6cipiuntur, et res est cognitione dignissima.\nHujus ignoratione non modo in vit\u00e2, sed s\u00e6pissime in_ POEMATIS _et in\noratione peccatur._ [Orator. xxi.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n309. SCRIBENDI RECTE, SAPERE EST ET PRINCIPIUM ET FONS.] The Orator\nwas of the same mind, when he sent his pupil to the academy for\ninstruction. _Quis nescit maximam vim existere oratoris in hominum\nmentibus vel ad iram, aut dolorem incitandis, vel ab hisce iisdem\npermotionibus ad lenitatem misericordiamque revocandis? qu\u00e6, nisi qui\nnaturas hominum, vimque omnem humanitatis, causasque eas quibus mentes\naut incitantur aut reflectuntur, penitus perspexerit, dicendo, quod\nvolet, perficere non poterit. Atqui_ TOTUS HIC LOCUS PHILOSOPHORUM\nPROPRIUS VIDETUR. [De Orat. l. i. c. xii.] And he spoke, we know, from\nhis own experience, _having acquired his oratorial skill not in the\nschools of the rhetoricians, but the walks of the academy_: _fateor\nme oratorem, si modo sim, aut etiam quicunque sim, non ex rhetorum\nofficinis, sed ex Academi\u00e6 spatiis extitisse_. [Orat. p. 622. Elz. ed.]\nBut the reason he gives for this advice, though common to the poet;\nwhose character, as well as the orator\u2019s, it is, _posse voluntates\nimpellere, quo velis, unde velis, deducere_, is yet, not the only one,\nwhich respects the poet. For his business is to _paint_, and that\nnot only, as the orator does, in order to move, but for the sole end\nof _pleasing_: _solam petit voluptatem_. [Quinct. l. x. c. i.] The\nboast of his art is to catch every different aspect of nature, and\nmore especially to exhibit the human character in every varying light\nand form, under which it presents itself. But this is not to be done\nwithout an exquisite study, and philosophical knowledge of man; to\nwhich end, as is remarked in _n._ on v. 317. the Socratic philosophy\nis more peculiarly adapted. Add to this, that it is the genius of\ntrue poetry, not only to animate, but to _personalize_ every thing,\n_omnia debent esse morata_. Hence the indispensable necessity of moral\nscience: all poetry being, in effect, what Mr. Dryden somewhere calls\ncomedy, THE THEFT OF POETS FROM MANKIND.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n310. SOCRATICAE CHARTAE.] An admired writer, in many respects\ndeservedly so, thus comments on these words: \u201cThe philosophical\nwritings, to which our poet refers, were in themselves a kind of\npoetry, like the _mimes_, or personated pieces of early times, before\nphilosophy was in vogue, and when as yet _Dramatical imitation_\nwas scarce formed: or at least, in many parts, not brought to due\nperfection. They were pieces, which, besides their force of style, and\nhidden numbers, carried a sort of _action_ and _imitation_, the same as\nthe _Epic_ and _Dramatic_ kinds. They were either real dialogues, or\nrecitals of such personated discourses; where the persons themselves\nhad their characters preserved throughout; their manners, humours,\nand distinct turns of temper and understanding maintained, according\nto the most exact poetical truth. \u2019Twas not enough, that these pieces\ntreated fundamentally of morals, and, in consequence, pointed out\nreal characters and manners: They exhibited them alive, and set the\ncountenances and complexions of men plainly in view. And by this means\nthey not only taught us to know others; but, what was principal and\nof highest virtue in them, they taught us to know ourselves.\u201d Thus\nfar then these models are of unquestioned use to writers of every\ndenomination. I forbear to mention, what this noble author finds\noccasion frequently to insinuate, and, by his own practice, labours\nto recommend, the superior excellency of the _manner_, as well as\n_matter_, of these highly-rated originals. Not that I presume to think\nit unworthy of imitation. But the public taste, as appears, is running\nfull fast that way, insomuch that some may even doubt, if the state\nof literary composition be more endangered by the neglect, or vicious\nimitation, of the Platonic manner. Its graces, when sparingly employed\nby a real genius, for the embellishment of strong sense, have, it\nmust be owned, great beauty. But when this humour of _platonizing_\nseizes on some minuter spirit, bent on ennobling a trivial matter,\nand all over-run with academic delicacy and affectation, nothing, to\na just and manly relish, can be more disgusting. One must wink hard\nnot to see frequent examples of this, in the master Platonist himself.\nBut his mimics, of late, have gone much farther. There is no need,\nin such a croud of instances, to point to particulars. What I would\nrather observe is, that this folly, offensive as it is, may perhaps\nadmit of some excuse from the _present state of our literature_, and\n_the character of the great original himself_, whom these writers\naspire to imitate. When a language, as ours at this time, hath been\nmuch polished and enriched with perfect models of style in almost\nevery way, it is in the order of things, that the next step should be\nto a _vicious affectation_. For the simplicity of true taste, under\nthese circumstances, grows insipid. Something _better than the best_\nmust be aimed at; and the reader\u2019s languid appetite raised by the\nprovocatives of an ambitious refinement. And this in _sentiment_,\nas well as _language_. Whence we see how it happened, that even in\n_Greece_ itself, where composition was studied with a more than common\naccuracy, _Philosophy_, when it passed out of the hands of its great\nmasters, degenerated by degrees into the subtilties of sophistry, as\ndid _Eloquence_, likewise, into the tricks of rhetoric.\n\nBut there was something, as I hinted, too, in the _character of the\nwriter imitated_, of a very ticklish and dangerous nature; and of which\nour tribe of imitators were not sufficiently aware. A very exact critic\nof antiquity hath told us what it was. It lay in Plato\u2019s _bringing\nthe tumor of poetic composition into discourses of philosophy_, \u039f\u03a4\u0399\n\u03a4\u039f\u039d \u039f\u0393\u039a\u039f\u039d \u03a4\u0397\u03a3 \u03a0\u039f\u0399\u0397\u03a4\u0399\u039a\u0397\u03a3 \u039a\u0391\u03a4\u0391\u03a3\u039a\u0395\u03a5\u0397\u03a3 \u0395\u03a0\u0399 \u039b\u039f\u0393\u039f\u03a5\u03a3 \u0397\u0393\u0391\u0393\u0395 \u03a6\u0399\u039b\u039f\u03a3\u039f\u03a6\u039f\u03a5\u03a3[28].\nAnd though the experiment, for the most part, succeeded not amiss (as\nwhat contradiction is there which superior genius cannot reconcile?)\nyet it sometimes failed even in his hands. And as a French writer\nwell expresses it, Le DIVIN _Plato, pour avoir voulu s\u2019elever trop au\ndessus des hommes, est souvent tomb\u00e8 dans un_ GALIMATIAS _pompeux que\nquelques uns confondent avec le_ SUBLIME. The PHAEDRUS, though the most\nremarkable, is not the only example of such mischance in the writings\nof this great man.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n317. VERAS HINC DUCERE VOCES.] _Truth_, in poetry, means such an\nexpression, as conforms to the general nature of things; _falsehood_,\nthat, which, however suitable to the particular instance in view\ndoth yet not correspond to such _general nature_. To attain to this\n_truth_ of expression in dramatic poetry two things are prescribed:\n1. A diligent study of the Socratic philosophy; and 2. A masterly\nknowledge and comprehension of human life. The _first_, because it is\nthe peculiar distinction of this school _ad veritatem vit\u00e6 propius\naccedere_. [Cic. de Or. i. 51.] And the _latter_, as rendering the\nimitation more universally striking. This will be understood by\nreflecting that _truth_ may be followed too closely in works of\nimitation, as is evident in two respects. For, 1. the artist, when\nhe would give a Copy of nature, may confine himself too scrupulously\nto the exhibition of _particulars_, and so fail of representing the\ngeneral idea of the _kind_. Or, 2. in applying himself to give the\n_general_ idea, he may collect it from an enlarged view of _real_ life,\nwhereas it were still better taken from the nobler conception of it\nas subsisting only in the _mind_. This last is the kind of censure we\npass upon the _Flemish_ school of painting, which takes its model from\nreal nature, and not, as the _Italian_, from the contemplative idea of\nbeauty[29]. The _former_ corresponds to that other fault objected also\nto the Flemish masters, which consists in their copying from particular\nodd and grotesque nature in contradistinction to general and graceful\nnature.\n\nWe see then that in deviating from particular and partial, the poet\nmore faithfully imitates _universal_, truth. And thus an answer occurs\nto that refined argument, which Plato invented and urged, with much\nseeming complacency, against poetry. It is, that _poetical imitation\nis at a great distance from truth_. \u201cPoetical expression, says the\nPhilosopher, is the copy of the poet\u2019s own conceptions; the poet\u2019s\nconception, of things, and things, of the standing archetype, as\nexisting in the divine mind. Thus the poet\u2019s expression, is a copy at\nthird hand, from the primary, original truth.\u201d [Plat. De rep. l. x.]\nNow the diligent study of this rule of the poet obviates this reasoning\nat once. For, by abstracting from existences all that peculiarly\nrespects and discriminates the _individual_, the poet\u2019s conception,\nas it were neglecting the intermediate particular objects, catches, as\nfar as may be, and reflects the divine archetypal idea, and so becomes\nitself the copy or image of truth. Hence too we are taught the force\nof that unusual encomium on poetry by the great critic, _that it is\nsomething more severe and philosophical than history_, \u03c6\u03b9\u03bb\u03bf\u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03ce\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03b4\u03b1\u03b9\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c3\u03c4\u03af\u03bd. The reason follows, which\nis now very intelligible; \u1f21 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03cc\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5, \u1f21\n\u03b4\u2019 \u1f31\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u2019 \u1f15\u03ba\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u03bb\u03ad\u03b3\u03b5\u03b9. [\u03a0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03b8.] And this will\nfurther explain an essential difference, as we are told, between the\ntwo great rivals of the Greek stage. Sophocles, in return to such\nas objected a want of truth in his characters, used to plead, _that\nhe drew men such as they ought to be, Euripides such as they were_.\n\u03a3\u03bf\u03c6\u03bf\u03ba\u03bb\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c6\u03b7, \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03c2 \u03bc\u1f72\u03bd \u03bf\u1f35\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u03b4\u03b5\u1fd6 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd, \u0395\u1f50\u03c1\u03b9\u03c0\u03af\u03b4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bf\u1f37\u03bf\u03af \u03b5\u1f30\u03c3\u03b9.\n[\u03a0\u03b5\u03c1. \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4. \u03ba. \u03ba\u03b5.] The meaning of which is, Sophocles, from his more\nextended commerce with mankind, had enlarged and widened the narrow,\npartial conception, arising from the contemplation of _particular_\ncharacters, into a complete comprehension of the _kind_. Whereas the\nphilosophic Euripides, having been mostly conversant in the academy,\nwhen he came to look into life, keeping his eye too intent on single,\nreally existing personages, sunk the _kind_ in the _individual_; and\nso painted his characters naturally indeed, and _truly_, with regard\nto the objects in view, but sometimes without that general and\nuniversally striking likeness, which is demanded to the full exhibition\nof poetical truth.\n\nBut here an objection meets us, which must not be overlooked. It will\nbe said, \u201cthat philosophic speculations are more likely to render men\u2019s\nviews _abstract_ and _general_ than to confine them to _individuals_.\nThis latter is a fault arising from the _small number_ of objects\nmen happen to contemplate: and may be removed not only by taking a\nview of many _particulars_, which is knowledge of the world; but also\nby reflecting on the _general nature_ of men, as it appears in good\nbooks of morality. For the writers of such books form their _general_\nnotion of human nature from an extensive experience (either their own,\nor that of others) without which their writings are of no value.\u201d\nThe answer, I think, is this. _By reflecting on the general nature\nof man_ the philosopher learns, what is the tenor of action arising\nfrom the predominancy of certain qualities or properties; _i. e._ in\ngeneral, what that conduct is, which the imputed character requires.\nBut to perceive clearly and certainly, how far, and with what degree\nof strength this or that character will, on particular occasions,\nmost probably shew itself, this is the fruit only of a knowledge of\nthe world. Instances of a want of this knowledge cannot be supposed\nfrequent in such a writer, as Euripides; nor, when they occur, so\nglaring as to strike a common reader. They are niceties, which can\nonly be discerned by the true critic; and even to _him_, at this\ndistance of time, from an ignorance of the Greek manners, that may\npossibly appear a fault, which is a real beauty. It would therefore be\ndangerous to think of pointing out the places, which Aristotle might\nbelieve liable to this censure in Euripides. I will however presume to\nmention one, which, if not justly criticized, will, at least, serve to\nillustrate my meaning.\n\nThe story of his _Electra_ is well known. The poet had to paint, in\nthe character of this princess, a virtuous, but fierce, resentful\nwoman; stung by a sense of personal ill treatment; and instigated\nto the revenge of a father\u2019s death, by still stronger motives. A\ndisposition of this warm temperament, it might be concluded by the\nphilosopher in his closet, would be prompt to shew itself. _Electra_\nwould, on any proper occasion, be ready to avow her resentment, as\nwell as to forward the execution of her purpose. But to what lengths\nwould this _resentment_ go? _i. e._ what degree of fierceness might\n_Electra_ express, without affording occasion to a person widely\nskilled in mankind, and the operation of the passions, to say, \u201cthis\nis improbable?\u201d Here abstract theories will be of little service. Even\na moderate acquaintance with real life will be unable to direct us.\nMany individuals may have fallen under observation, that will justify\nthe poet in carrying the expression of such a _resentment_ to any\nextreme. History would, perhaps, furnish examples, in which a virtuous\nresentment hath been carried even farther than is here represented by\nthe poet. What way then of determining the precise bounds and limits\nof it? Only by observing in numerous instances, _i. e._ from a large\nextensive knowledge of practical life, how far it usually, in such\ncharacters, and under such circumstances, prevails. Hence a difference\nof representation will arise in proportion to the extent of that\n_knowledge_. Let us now see, how the character before us, hath, in\nfact, been managed by Euripides.\n\nIn that fine scene, which passes between Electra and Orestes, whom as\nyet she suspects not to be her brother, the conversation very naturally\nturns upon Electra\u2019s distresses, and the author of them, Clyt\u00e6mnestra,\nas well as on her hopes of deliverance from them by the means of\nOrestes. The dialogue upon this proceeds:\n\n_Or._ What then of Orestes, were he to return to this Argos?\n\n_El._ Ah! wherefore that question, when there is no prospect of his\nreturn at all?\n\n_Or._ But supposing he should return, how would he go about to revenge\nthe death of his father?\n\n_El._ In the same way, in which that father suffered from the daring\nattempts of his enemies.\n\n_Or._ And could you then dare to undertake with him the murder of your\nmother?\n\n_El._ Yes, with that very steel, with which she murdered my father.\n\n_Or._ And am I at liberty to relate this to your brother, as your fixed\nresolution?\n\n_El._ I desire only to live, till I have murdered my mother. The Greek\nis still stronger:\n\n    _May I die, as soon as I have murdered my mother!_\n\nNow that this last sentence is absolutely unnatural, will not be\npretended. There have been doubtless many examples, under the like\ncircumstances, of an expression of revenge carried thus far. Yet, I\nthink, we can hardly help being a little shocked at the fierceness of\n_this_ expression. At least _Sophocles_ has not thought fit to carry\nit to that extreme. In him, _Electra_ contents herself with saying to\n_Orestes_, on a similar occasion:\n\n\u201cThe conduct of this affair now rests upon you. Only let me observe\nthis to you, that, had I been left alone, I would not have failed in\none of these two purposes, either to deliver myself gloriously, or to\nperish gloriously.\u201d\n\nWhether this representation of Sophocles be not more agreeable to\n_truth_, as collected from wide observation, i. e. from human nature\nat large, than that of Euripides, the capable reader will judge. If\nit be, the reason I suppose to have been, _that Sophocles painted his\ncharacters, such, as, from attending to numerous instances of the\nsame kind, he would conclude they ought to be; Euripides, such, as a\nnarrower sphere of observation had persuaded him they were_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n319. INTERDUM SPECIOSA LOCIS, &c.] The poet\u2019s science in _ethics_ will\nprincipally shew itself in these two ways, 1. in furnishing proper\nmatter for general reflexion on human life and conduct; and, 2. in a\ndue adjustment of the manners. By the former of these two applications\nof moral knowledge a play becomes, what the poet calls, _speciosa\nlocis_, i. e. (for the term is borrowed from the rhetoricians)\n_striking in its moral topics_: a merit of the highest importance on\nthe ancient stage, and which, if prudently employed in subserviency to\nthe _latter_ more essential requisite of the drama, _a just expression\nof the manners_, will deserve to be so reputed at all times and on\nevery theatre. The danger is, lest a studied, declamatory _moral_,\naffectedly introduced, or indulged to excess, should prejudice the\nnatural exhibition of the _characters_, and so convert _the image of\nhuman life_ into an unaffecting, philosophical dialogue.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n319. MORATAQUE RECTE FABULA, &c.] This judgment of the poet, in regard\nof the superior efficacy of _manners_, is generally thought to be\ncontradicted by Aristotle; who in treating this subject, observes,\n\u201cthat let a piece be never so perfect in the _manners_, _sentiments_,\nand _style_, it will not so well answer the end and purpose of\ntragedy, as if defective in these, and finished only in the fable and\ncomposition.\u201d \u1f18\u03ac\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f10\u03c6\u03b5\u03be\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b8\u1fc7 \u1fe5\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f20\u03b8\u03b9\u03ba\u1f70\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bb\u03ad\u03be\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03af\u03b1\u03c2\n\u03b5\u1f56 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2, \u03bf\u1f50 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f43 \u1f26\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u1f14\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u1f7a \u03bc\u1fb6\u03bb\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd\n\u1f21 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03b5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03bf\u03cd\u03c4\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b5\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u1ff3\u03b4\u03af\u03b1, \u1f14\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03bc\u1fe6\u03b8\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c3\u03cd\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u03b1\u03b3\u03bc\u03ac\u03c4\u03c9\u03bd. \u039a\u03b5\u03c6. \u03db\u02b9. M. Dacier thinks to clear this matter\nby saying, \u201cthat what Aristotle remarks holds true of tragedy, but\nnot of comedy, of which alone Horace is here speaking.\u201d But granting\nthat the artificial contexture of the fable is less necessary to the\nperfection of comedy, than of tragedy (as it certainly is), yet the\ntenor of this whole division, exhorting to correctness in general,\nmakes it unquestionable, that Horace must intend to include _both_.\nThe case, as it seems to me, is this. The poet is not comparing\nthe respective importance of the _fable_ and _manners_, but of the\n_manners_ and _diction_, under this word including also _numbers_.\nHe gives them the preference _not_ to a _good plot_, nor even to\n_fine sentiments_, but to _versus inopes rerum nug\u00e6que canor\u00e6_. The\n_art_ he speaks of, is the art of _expressing_ the thoughts properly,\ngracefully, and harmoniously: the _pondus_ is the force and energy of\ngood _versification_. _Venus_ is a general term including both kinds\nof beauty. _Fabula_ does not mean the _fable_ (in distinction from the\nrest) but simply _a play_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n323. GRAIIS INGENIUM, &c.] The Greeks being eminent for _philosophy_,\nespecially _morals_; the last observation naturally gives rise to this.\nFor the transition is easy from their superiority, as philosophers,\nto their superiority as poets; and the more easy, as the latter is\nshewn to be, in part, the effect of the former. Now this superiority of\nthe Greeks in genius and eloquence (which would immediately occur, on\nmentioning the _Socratic\u00e6 chart\u00e6_) being seen and confessed, we are led\nto ask, \u201cwhence this arises.\u201d The answer is, from their making _glory_,\nnot _gain_, the object of their wishes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n330. AERUGO ET CURA PECULI CUM SEMEL IMBUERIT, &c.] This _love of\ngain_, to which Horace imputes the imperfect state of the Roman poetry,\nhath been uniformly assigned, by the wisdom of ancient times, as the\nspecific bane of arts and letters. _Longinus_ and _Quintilian_ account,\nfrom hence, for the decay of eloquence, _Galen_ of physic, _Petronius_\nof painting, and _Pliny_, of the whole circle of the liberal arts. An\ningenious modern is indeed for carrying his views much further. He,\nit seems, would account [Refl. sur la Poes. et sur la Peint. v. ii. \u00a7\nxiv.] for this _public degeneracy_ of taste and literature, not from\nthe malignity of the selfish passions, but the baleful influences of\nthe air, emulating, I suppose, herein, the wisdom of that philosophy,\nwhich teaches to lay the _private degeneracy_ of individuals on the\nstars. Thus much however may be true, that other causes have generally\nco-operated with it. Some of these, as might be shewn, did not escape\nthe attention of these wise ancients. Yet they did right to insist\nchiefly on _this_, which is every way equal to the effect ascribed to\nit. It is so in its _nature_: For being, as Longinus calls it, \u03bd\u03cc\u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\n\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03c1\u03bf\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u1f78\u03bd, _a disease which narrows and contracts the soul_, it must,\nof course, restrain the generous efforts and expansions of genius;\ncramp the free powers and energies of the mind, and render it unapt to\nopen itself to wide views, and to the projection of great, extensive\ndesigns. It is so in its _consequences_. For, as one says elegantly,\n_when the passion of avarice grows general in a country, the temples\nof Honour are soon pulled down, and all men\u2019s sacrifices are made to\nFortune_[30]. Thus extinguishing the sense of honour, that divinest\nmovement in our frame, and the only one, which can invigorate the mind\nunder the long labours of invention, it must needs be, that the fire\nand high spirit of genius go out with it; and dragging in its train the\n_love of pleasure_, that unmanliest of all the passions, it diffuses\nsuch a languor and impotency over the mind, as must leave it at length\na prey to a supine wasting indolence; till, as Longinus observes of his\nown age (and let every friend to letters deprecate the omen), \u03a0\u03ac\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2\n\u1f10\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03b2\u03b9\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd, \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u1fe6\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u1f22 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2, \u03b5\u1f30 \u03bc\u1f74 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u1f21\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f15\u03bd\u03b5\u03ba\u03b1, \u1f00\u03bb\u03bb\u1f70 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b6\u03ae\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03be\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c4\u1f72 \u1f60\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03af\u03b1\u03c2.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n333. AUT PRODESSE VOLUNT, AUT DELECTARE POETAE, &c.] Though these lines\nhave the appearance of general criticism, yet do they more especially\nrespect the dramatic poesy. This will be evident from attending to\nthe context. The full boast and glory of the drama is to _delight_\nand _instruct_ mankind. 1. The latter praise was more especially due\nto the ancient tragic muse, who did not think it sufficient to paint\nlovely pourtraitures of _public_ and _social_ virtue, and to call in\nthe moralizing chorus to her assistance, but, which was one of her\ndiscriminating characters, she was perpetually inculcating every branch\nof true moral in those brief sententious precepts, which inform and\nsolemnize her page. To these precepts then the poet manifestly refers\nin those lines,\n\n    _Quicquid pr\u00e6cipies, esto brevis; ut cito dicta\n    Percipiant animi dociles, teneantque fideles_.\n\nBut what follows is still clearer, [2.] The other end of the drama is\nto _entertain_, and this by the means of _probable fiction_.\n\n    _Ficta, voluptatis causa, sint proxima veris._\n\nAnd the poet applies this to the case of the drama in express words:\n\n    _Ne quodcunque volet, poscat sibi fabula credi:\n    Neu prans\u00e6 Lami\u00e6 vivum puerum extrahat alvo_.\n\nThe instance of _Lamia_, as Mr. Dacier observes, is certainly taken\nfrom some poet of that time, who had been guilty of this misconduct.\nThe reader may learn from hence, how intently Horace pursues his design\nof criticizing the _Roman_ stage, when, in treating a subject, from\nits nature, the most general of any in the epistle, _viz. critical\ncorrectness_, we yet find him so industriously recurring to this point.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n343. MISCUIT UTILE DULCI.] The unnatural separation of the DULCE\nET UTILE hath done almost as much hurt in _letters_ as that of the\nHONESTUM ET UTILE, which Tully somewhere complains of, hath done in\n_morals_. For while the polite writer, as he is called, contents\nhimself with the _former_ of these qualities, and the man of erudition\nwith the _latter_, it comes to pass, as the same writer expresses it,\nthat ET DOCTIS ELOQUENTIA POPULARIS, ET DISERTIS ELEGANS DOCTRINA DESIT\n[Orat. iii.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n363. HAEC AMAT OBSCURUM, VOLET HAEC SUB LUCE VIDERI.] Cicero hath\ngiven the same precept in relation to oratory, _habeat illa in dicendo\nadmiratio ac summa laus umbram aliquam et recessum, quo magis id, quod\nerit illuminatum, extare atque eminere videatur_. [De orat. l. iii. c.\nxxvi.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n373. MEDIOCRIBUS ESSE POETIS NON HOMINES, &c.] This judgment, however\nsevere it may seem, is according to the practice of the best critics.\nWe have a remarkable instance in the case of _Apollonius Rhodius_, who,\nthough, in the judgment of Quintilian, the author of no contemptible\npoem, yet on account of that _equal mediocrity_, which every where\nprevails in him, was struck out of the list of good writers by such\nsovereign judges of poetical merit, as Aristophanes and Aristarchus.\n[Quint. l. x. c. i.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n403. DICTAE PER CARMINA SORTES,] The oracles here spoken of, are such\nas respect not _private persons_ (whom a natural curiosity, quickened\nby anxious superstition, has ever prompted to pry into their future\nfortunes) but _entire communities_; and for these there was little\nplace, till Ambition had inspired great and eventful designs, and by\ninvolving the fate of nations, had rendered the knowledge of futurity\n_important_. Hence, in marking the progress of ancient poesy, Horace\njudiciously postpones _oracles_, to the _celebration_ of martial\n_prowess_, as being that, which gave the principal _eclat_ to them.\nThis species of poetry then is rightly placed, though it be true, as\nthe commentators have objected, that oracles were much ancienter than\nHomer, and the Trojan war.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n404. ET VITAE MONSTRATA VIA EST;] Meaning the writings of _Theognis_,\n_Phocylides_, _Hesiod_, and others, which, consisting wholly of moral\nprecepts, are elegantly said to lay open, or discover _the road\nof life_. Mr. Dacier\u2019s interpretation, which makes the poet mean\n_physics_ by _viam vit\u00e6_, is supported by no reason. _Il ne faut pas_,\nsays he, _entendre ceci de la philosophie et des m\u0153urs_; CAR _Horace\nse contrediroit, puisque il a dit que ce fut le premier soin de la\npoesie_. The learned critic did not consider, that the first care of\npoesy, as explained above, and as employed by _Orpheus_ and _Amphion_,\nwas to inculcate _policy_, not _moral_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n404. ET GRATIA REGUM, PIERIIS TENTATA MODIS, LUDUSQUE REPERTUS, ET\nLONGORUM OPERUM FINIS: NE FORTE PUDORI SIT TIBI MUSA LYRAE SOLERS,\nET CANTOR APOLLO.] This is one of those master-strokes, which make\nthe sovereign charm of this poet. But the way in which it hath been\nunderstood, extinguishes all its grace and beauty. _On les vers\nemploya_, says an interpreter, who speaks the sense of the rest, _\u00e0\ngagner la faveur des rois, et on les mit de tous les jeux et de tous\nles spectacles, qu\u2019on inventa pour se delasser de ses longs travaux et\nde toutes ses fatigues. Je vous dis cela afin que vous n\u2019ayez point\nde honte de faire la cour aux Muses et \u00e0 Apollon._ And, lest this\nshould not seem explicit enough, he adds in a couple of notes, that by\n_ludus repertus_, &c. _il_ [le poete] _veut parler des tragedies et\ndes comedies que l\u2019on faisoit jour dans les f\u00eates solemnelles_. And\nthen, as to the _ne forte pudori_, _Cela prouve qu\u2019 Horace ne fait\ncet eloge de la poesie que pour empecher que Pison n\u2019en f\u00fbt degout\u00e9_.\nCan any thing be more insipid? For could the poet think so meanly of\nhis art, as to believe it wanted an apology? Or had the _courtier_ so\nlittle address, as to direct that apology immediately to the Pisos?\nBesides, what species of poesy is it that he labours to excuse? Why,\naccording to this interpretation, the _dramatic_: the supreme boast of\nhis art, and the main subject of the epistle. And in what _manner_ does\nhe excuse it? Why, in recommending it, as an agreeable amusement. But\nhis master, Aristotle, would have furnished him with a nobler plea: and\n\u2019tis certain, the ancients talked at another rate of the use and end\nof the drama. Let us see then, if the sense, given in the commentary,\nwill bring any relief to the poet. In fact, this whole passage [from\n_et vit\u00e6_, &c. to _cantor Apollo_] obliquely glances at the two sorts\nof poetry peculiarly cultivated by himself, and is an indirect apology\nfor his own choice of them. For 1. _vit\u00e6 monstrata via est_ is the\ncharacter of his _sermones_. And 2. all the rest, of his _Odes_. These\nare recommended, agreeably to their nature, 1. as of use to _conciliate\nthe favour of princes_; hereby glancing at the success of his own odes,\nand, with the happiest address, insinuating the regard, which Augustus\npaid to letters. 2. As contributing to the mirth and entertainment of\nfeasts, and especially as holding a principal place in the celebration\nof those more sacred, secular festivities (_longorum operum finem_)\nwhich could not be duly solemnized, without the ministration of the\nlyric muse.\n\n    _Castis cum pueris ignara puella mariti,\n    Disceret unde preces, vatem ni musa dedisset?_\n                                        2 Ep. i. 132.\n\nAnd again:\n\n                    _ego Diis amicum,\n    S\u00e6culo festas referente luces,\n    Reddidi carmen docilis modorum\n                Vatis Horat\u00ee_.\n                              Carm. Sec.\n\nIn another place both ends are expressed:\n\n                            _testudo\n    Divitum_ MENSIS _et amica_ TEMPLIS.\n                                              3 Od. xi.\n\nWhere it may be observed, this double character of lyric poetry exactly\ncorresponds to that, which the poet had before expressly given of it in\nthis very epistle: the _gratia regum_ being the same as\n\n    _Musa dedit fidibus Divos puerosque Deorum\n    Et pugilem victorem et equum certamine primum_.\n                                                v. 83.\n\nAnd _ludusque repertus_, describing its other office,\n\n    _Et juvenum curas et libera vina referre_.\n                                                   ib.\n\nIn this view the following line, which apologizes, not for poesy in\ngeneral, or its noblest species, the drama, but for his own lyrics\nonly, hath, as the reader perceives, infinite grace; and is peculiarly\nmarked with that vein of exquisite humour, so suited to the genius of\nthe epistle, and which makes one of the distinguishing beauties of\nthe poet. It hath also an extreme _propriety_; the levity of the ode\nadmitting, or rather requiring some apology to the Pisos; who would be\nnaturally led to think but meanly of it, in comparison of the sublimer\ndramatic poetry. I must add, the very terms of the apology so expresly\ndefine and characterize lyric poetry, that it is something strange, it\nshould have escaped vulgar notice: _musa lyr\u00e6 solers_ being evidently\nexplained by _Roman\u00e6 fidicen lyr\u00e6_ [4 Od. iii. 23.] and the epithet\n_cantor_, describing Apollo, as clearly as words can do it, in the\npeculiar character of _Lyric_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n407. CANTOR APOLLO. NATURA FIERET, &c.] The transition is delicate,\nand a fine instance of that kind of method, which the Epistle demands.\nThe poet had just been speaking of the ode, and its inspirer, _cantor\nApollo_; and this, in the natural train of his ideas, suggested that\nenthusiasm, and stretch of genius, which is at once the characteristic\nand glory of the lyric composition. And this was ground enough, in an\nEpistle, to pass on to say something concerning the power and influence\nof genius in poetry in general. It was for want of attending to so\nplain a reflexion as this, that the excellent Heinsius trifled so\negregiously, in his transpositions of the Epistles, and in particular\nof this very place. And the hasty censures, which M. Dacier passed\non the poet\u2019s method, are apparently owing to no other cause. [See\nhis introduct. remarks.] But to declare my sense at parting, of the\n_latter_ of these critics, I would say, as he himself does of the\nformer, _C\u2019est assez parl\u00e9 contre M._ DACIER, _dont j\u2019estime et admire\nautant la profonde \u00e9rudition, que je condamne la mauvais usage qu\u2019il\nen a fait en quelques rencontres_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n410. ALTERIUS SIC ALTERA POSCIT OPEM RES, ET CONJURAT AMICE.] This\nconclusion, \u201cthat art and nature must conspire to the production of\na perfect piece,\u201d is, in the general, unquestionably just. If we\nwould know the distinct powers and provinces of each, a fine passage\nin Longinus will inform us. For, of the five sources of the sublime,\nenumerated by that critic, two only, \u201ca grandeur of conception, and\nthe pathetic,\u201d come from _nature_: the rest, \u201ca just arrangement of\nfigures,\u201d \u201ca splendid diction,\u201d and \u201cdignity of composition,\u201d are of\nthe province of _art_. Yet, though their powers are thus distinct,\neach, in order to attain its due perfection, must conspire, and be\nconsociated, with the other. For that \u201csublime of conception\u201d and\n\u201cpathetic enthusiasm\u201d never make a more sure and lasting impression,\nthan when cloathed in the graces, and moderated by the sober sense\nof _art_: as, on the contrary, the milder beauties of \u201clanguage\u201d and\n\u201cartificial composition\u201d are never so secure of seizing the attention,\nas when raised and inspirited by the _pathos_, or _sublime_. So that\nthe nature of the union, here recommended, is such, as makes it not\nonly necessary to the completion of that great end, _viz._ the glory of\nperfect composition; but that either part, in the alliance, may fully\neffect its own. All which is but the larger explication of another\npassage in Longinus, who teaches, that \u03a4\u039f\u03a4\u0395 \u0397 \u03a4\u0395\u03a7\u039d\u0397 \u03a4\u0395\u039b\u0395\u0399\u039f\u03a3, \u0397\u039d\u0399\u039a\u2019 \u0391\u039d\n\u03a6\u03a5\u03a3\u0399\u03a3 \u0395\u0399\u039d\u0391\u0399 \u0394\u039f\u039a\u0397\u0399\u00b7 \u0397 \u0394\u2019 \u0391\u03a5 \u03a6\u03a5\u03a3\u0399\u03a3 \u0395\u03a0\u0399\u03a4\u03a5\u03a7\u0397\u03a3, \u039f\u03a4\u0391\u039d \u039b\u0391\u039d\u0398\u0391\u039d\u039f\u03a5\u03a3\u0391 \u03a0\u0395\u03a1\u0399\u0395\u03a7\u0397\u0399 \u03a4\u0397\u039d\n\u03a4\u0395\u03a7\u039d\u0397\u039d. [\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1. \u1f51\u03c8. \u03c4\u03bc\u03b7. \u03ba\u03b2\u02b9.]\n\n\nBut here, in parting, it will be amusing, perhaps, to the curious\nreader to observe, what perpetual matter of debate this question hath\nfurnished to the ancient learned.\n\n\nIt seems first to have taken its rise from the high pretension of\npoets to inspiration [see Pind. Od. iii. Nem.], which was afterwards\nunderstood in too literal a sense, and in time extended to all works\nof genius or imitation. The orator, who, as Cicero tells us, is _near\na-kin to the poet_, set up the same claim; principally, as it should\nseem, on the authority of Socrates, who, taking occasion from the ill\nuse that had been made of _rhetoric_, to decry it as an _art_, was\nherein followed by the most illustrious of his scholars; amongst whom\nwas Aristotle, [Quinct. l. ii. c. 17.] who had written a set treatise\nprofessedly with this view, though his books of rhetoric proceed on\nvery different principles. The question afterwards appeared of so much\nmoment to Cicero, that he discussed it in form, in one of his dialogues\nDe Oratore. And Quinctilian, in still later times, found himself\nobliged to resume the same debate, and hath accordingly considered it\nin an entire chapter.\n\nThe long continuance of so frivolous a dispute, and which admits so\neasy a decision, would go near to persuade one, if, as Shakespeare\nspeaks, _they had not the privilege of antiquity upon them_, that the\npens of the ancient _literati_ were not always more wisely employed,\nthan those of modern controversialists. If we ask the reason, it would\nseem to be owing to that ambitious spirit of subtlety and refinement,\nwhich, as Quintilian observes, _puts men upon teaching not what\nthey believe to be true, but what, from the falsehood or apparent\nstrangeness of the matter, they expect the praise of ingenuity from\nbeing able to maintain_. This, I say, might seem to be the cause of\nso much perversity, on the first view, and unquestionably it had its\ninfluence. But the truth is, the real cause was something more general\nand extensive. It was, in fact, that _natural proneness_, so Longinus\nterms it, _in mankind, to censure and degrade things present_, \u1f34\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd\n\u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03ce\u03c0\u03bf\u03c5 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03bc\u03ad\u03bc\u03c6\u03b5\u03c3\u03b8\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1f70 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1. This in nothing holds truer,\nthan in what concerns the state of literature; as may be seen from\nthat unwearied industry of the learned to decry whatever appears to\nbe the prevailing taste of the times; whether it be in suggesting\nsome defect to be made good by future improvements; or, as is more\ncommon, because the easier and less invidious task, in setting up,\nand magnifying some former examples of a different cast and merit.\nThus, in the case before us, exquisite art and commanding genius,\nbeing the two only means of rising to superior literary excellence,\nin proportion as any age became noted for the one, it was constantly\ndefamed, and the preference given to the other. So, during the growth\nof letters in any state, when a sublimity of sentiment and strength\nof expression make, as under those circumstances they always will,\nthe characteristic of the times, the critic, disgusted with the rude\nworkings of nature, affects to admire only the nicer finishings and\nproportions of art. When, let but the growing experience of a few years\nrefine and perfect the public taste, and what was before traduced as\nroughness and barbarity, becomes at once nerves, dignity, and force.\nThen art is effeminacy; and judgment want of spirit. All now is rapture\nand inspiration. The exactest modern compositions are unmanly and\nunnatural, _et solos veteres legendos putant, neque in ullis aliis esse\nnaturalem eloquentiam et robur viris dignum arbitrantur_. [Quinct. l.\nx. c. i.] The truth of this observation might he justified from many\nexamples. The learning and art of _Pacuvius_ (for so I understand the\nepithet _doctus_) carried it before the sublime of _Accius_; just as in\nelder Greece the smooth and correct _Simonides_, _tenuis Simonides_,\nas Quinctilian characterizes him, bore away the prize from the lofty\nand high-spirited _\u00c6schylus_. Afterwards indeed the case was altered.\nThe Athenians, grown exact in the rules of good writing, became so\nenamoured of the bold flights of \u00c6schylus, as with a little correction\nto admit him on the stage, who, by this means, frequently gained the\nprize from a polite and knowing people, for what had certainly lost it\nhim in the simpler, and less informed theatre of his own times. Thus\ntoo it fared with the elder Latin poets, who, though admired indeed in\ntheir own age, but with considerable abatement from the reason before\nassigned, were perfectly idolized in that of Augustus; so as to require\nthe sharpest satire of our poet, to correct the malevolent principle\nfrom whence the affectation arose. But the observation holds of our own\nwriters. There was a time, when the art of JONSON was set above the\ndivinest raptures of SHAKESPEARE. The present age is well convinced of\nthe mistake. And now the genius of SHAKESPEARE is idolized in its turn.\nHappily for the public taste, it can scarcely be too much so. Yet,\nshould any, in the rage of erecting trophies to the genius of ancient\npoesy, presume to violate the recent honours of more correct poets,\nthe cause of such critical perversity will be ever the same. For all\nadmiration of past times, when excessive, is still to be accounted for\nthe same way,\n\n    _Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis,\n    Nostra sed impugnat, nos nostraque lividus odit_.\n\n\nTHE END OF THE NOTES ON THE ART OF POETRY.\n\n\n\n\nQ. HORATII FLACCI\n\nEPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE REVEREND\n\nMR. WARBURTON.\n\n\nREVEREND SIR,\n\nGive me leave to present to you the following Essay on the _Epistle\nto Augustus_; which, whatever other merit it may want, is secure of\nthis, that it hath been planned upon the best model. For I know not\nwhat should hinder me from declaring to you in this public manner,\nthat it was the early pleasure I received from what you had written of\nthis sort, which _first_ engaged me in the province of criticism. And,\nif I have taken upon me to illustrate _another_ of the finest pieces\nof antiquity after the _same method_, it is because I find myself\nencouraged to do so by higher considerations, than even the Authority\nof your example.\n\nCRITICISM, considered in its ancient and noblest office of doing\njustice to the merits of great writers, more especially in works\nof poetry and invention, demands, to its perfect execution, these\ntwo qualities: _a philosophic spirit_, capable of penetrating the\nfundamental reasons of excellence in every different species of\ncomposition; and _a strong imagination_, the parent of what we call\n_true taste_, enabling the critic to feel the full force of his\nauthor\u2019s excellence himself, and to impress a lively sense of it\nupon others. Each of these abilities is necessary. For by means of\nphilosophy, criticism, which were otherwise a vague and superficial\nthing, acquires the soundness and solidity of science. And from the\n_power of fancy_, it derives that light and energy and spirit, which\nare wanting to provoke the public emulation and carry the general\nconclusions of reason into practice.\n\nOf these talents (to regard them in their separate state) that of a\n_strong imagination_, as being the commoner of the two, one would\nnaturally suppose should be the first to exert itself in the service of\ncriticism. And thus it seems, in fact, to have happened. For there were\nvery early in Greece a sort of men, who, under the name of RHAPSODISTS,\nmade it their business to illustrate the beauties of their favourite\nwriters. Though their art, indeed, was very simple; for it consisted\nonly in _acting_ the finest passages of their works, and in _repeating_\nthem, with a rapturous kind of vehemence, to an ecstatic auditory.\nWhence it appears, that criticism, as being yet in its infancy, was\nwholly turned to _admiration_; a passion which true _judgment_ as\nlittle indulges in the schools of _Art_, as sound philosophy in those\nof _Nature_. Accordingly these enraptured declaimers, though they\ntravelled down to the politer ages, could not subsist in them. The\nfine ridicule of Plato, in one of his Dialogues[31], and the growing\ntaste for just thinking, seem perfectly to have discredited this folly.\nAnd it was presently seen and acknowledged even by the Rhapsodist\nhimself, that, how _divinely_ soever he might feel himself affected by\nthe magnetic virtue of the muse, yet, as he could give no intelligible\naccount of its subtle operations, he was assuredly no _Artist_; \u0398\u0395\u0399\u039f\u039d\n\u03b5\u1f36\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bc\u1f74 \u03a4\u0395\u03a7\u039d\u0399\u039a\u039f\u039d \u1f10\u03c0\u03b1\u03b9\u03bd\u03ad\u03c4\u03b7\u03bd.\n\nFrom this time they, who took upon themselves the office of commenting\nand recommending the great writers of Greece, discharged it in a very\ndifferent manner. Their researches grew severe, inquisitive, and\nrational. And no wonder; for the person, who now took the lead in these\nstudies, and set the fashion of them, was a _philosopher_, and, which\nwas happy for the advancement of this art, the justest philosopher of\nantiquity. Hence _scientific_ or speculative criticism attained to\nperfection, at once; and appeared in all that severity of reason and\naccuracy of method, which Aristotle himself could bestow upon it.\n\nBut now this might almost seem as violent an extreme as the other.\nFor though to _understand_ be better than to _admire_, yet the\ngenerality of readers _cannot_, or _will not_, understand, where there\nis _nothing_ for them to admire. So that _reason_, for her own sake,\nis obliged to borrow something of the dress, and to mimic the airs,\nof _fancy_: And Aristotle\u2019s _reason_ was too proud to submit to this\nmanagement.\n\nHence, the critical plan, which the Stagirite had formed with such\nrigour of science, however it might satisfy the curious speculatist,\nwanted to be _relieved_ and set off to the common eye by the\nheightenings of eloquence. This, I observed, was the easier task of the\ntwo; and yet it was very long before it was _successfully_ attempted.\nAmongst other reasons of this delay, the principal, as you observe,\nmight be the fall of the public freedom of Greece, which soon after\nfollowed. For then, instead of the free and manly efforts of genius,\nwhich alone could accomplish such a reformation, the trifling spirit of\nthe times declined into mere verbal amusements: \u201cwhence,\u201d as you say,\n\u201cso great a cloud of scholiasts and grammarians so soon over-spread\nthe learning of Greece, when once that famous community had lost its\nliberty[32].\u201d\n\nAnd what Greece was thus unable, of a long time, to furnish, we shall\nin vain seek in another great community, which soon after flourished,\nin all liberal studies. The genius of Rome was bold and elevated enough\nfor this task. But Criticism, of any kind, was little cultivated, never\nprofessed as an _art_, by this people. The specimens we have of their\nability in this way (of which the most elegant, beyond dispute, are\nthe two epistles to _Augustus_, and the _Pisos_) are slight occasional\nattempts; made in the negligence of common sense, and adapted to the\npeculiar exigencies of their own taste and learning: and not by any\nmeans the regular productions of _art_, professedly bending itself to\nthis work, and ambitious to give the last finishing to the critical\nsystem.\n\nFor so great an effort as this we are to look back to the confines\nof Greece. And there at length, and even from beneath the depression\nof slavery (but with a spirit that might have done honour to its\nage of greatest liberty) a CRITIC arose, singularly qualified for\nso generous an undertaking. His profession, which was that of a\n_rhetorical sophist_, required him to be fully instructed in the graces\nand embellishments of eloquence; and these, the vigour of his genius\nenabled him to comprehend in their utmost force and beauty. In a word,\nLONGINUS was the person, whom, of all the critics of antiquity, nature\nseems to have formed with the proper talents to give the last honour to\nhis profession, and penetrate the very soul of fine writing.\n\nYet so bounded is human _wit_, and with such difficulty is human _art_\ncompleated, that even here the advantage, which had been so fortunately\ngained on the one hand, was, in great measure, lost and forfeited on\nthe other. He had softened indeed the severity of Aristotle\u2019s plan;\nbut, in doing this, had gone back again too far into the manner of\nthe admiring Rhapsodist. In short, with the brightest views of nature\nand true beauty, which the finest imagination could afford to the best\ncritic, he now wanted, in a good degree, that precision, and depth of\nthought, which had so eminently distinguished his predecessor. For, as\nPlotinus long ago observed of him, _though he had approved himself a\nmaster of polite literature, he was_ NO _Philosopher_; \u03a6\u0399\u039b\u039f\u039b\u039f\u0393\u039f\u03a3 \u039c\u0395\u039d,\n\u03a6\u0399\u039b\u039f\u03a3\u039f\u03a6\u039f\u03a3 \u0394\u0395 \u039f\u03a5\u0394\u0391\u039c\u03a9\u03a3.\n\nThus the art had been shifting reciprocally into two extremes. And in\none or other of these extremes, it was likely to continue. For the fame\nand eminent ability of their great founders had made them considered\nas _models_, in their different ways, of perfect criticism. Only it\nwas easy to foresee which of them the humour of succeeding times would\nbe most disposed to emulate. The catching enthusiasm and picturesque\nfancy of the _one_ would be sure to prevail over the coolness and\nausterity of the _other_. Accordingly in the last and present century,\nwhen now the diligence of learned men had, by restoring the purity,\nopened an easy way to the study, of the old classics, a numberless\ntribe of commentators have attempted, after the manner of Longinus,\nto _flourish_ on the excellencies of their composition. And some of\nthem, indeed, succeeded so well in this method, that one is not to\nwonder it soon became the popular and only authorized form of what was\nreputed _just Criticism_. Yet, as nothing but superior genius could\nmake it tolerable even in the best of these, it was to be expected\n(what experience hath now fully shewn), that it would at length, and\nin ordinary hands, degenerate into the most unmeaning, frivolous, and\ndisgustful jargon, that ever discredited polite letters.\n\nThis, Sir, was the state in which you received _modern Criticism_: a\nstate, which could only shew you, that, of the two models, antiquity\nhad furnished to our use, we had learned, by an awkward imitation of\nit, to abuse the _worst_. But it did not content your zeal for the\nservice of letters barely to remedy this _abuse_. It was not enough,\nin your enlarged view of things, to restore either of these models to\nits ancient splendour. They were both to be revived; or rather a new\noriginal plan of criticism was to be struck out, which should unite the\nvirtues of each of them. The experiment was made on the TWO greatest\nof our own poets; and, by reflecting all the lights of the imagination\non the severest reason, every thing was effected, which the warmest\nadmirer of ancient art could promise to himself from such an union.\nBut you went farther. By joining to these powers a perfect insight\ninto human nature, and so ennobling the exercise of _literary_, by\nthe addition of the justest moral, censure, you have now, at length,\nadvanced CRITICISM to its full glory.\n\nNot but, considering the inveterate foible of mankind, which the poet\nso justly satirizes in the following work, I mean that, which disposes\nthem to malign and depreciate all the efforts of wit and virtue,\n\n        \u2014nisi quae terris semota suisque\n    Temporibus defuncta videt\u2014\n\nConsidering, I say, this temper of mankind, you may sooner, perhaps,\nexpect the censures of the dull and envious of all denominations, than\nthe candid applause of the public, even for this service.\n\nI apprehend this consequence the rather, because criticism, though it\nbe _the last fruit of literary experience_, is more exposed to the\ncavils of ignorance and vanity, than, perhaps, any other species of\nlearned application: all men being forward to judge, and few men giving\nthemselves leave to doubt of their being able to judge, of the merits\nof well-known and popular writers.\n\nNor is this all: When writers of a certain rank condescend to this work\nof criticism, the innovation excites a very natural ferment in the _men\nof the profession_.\n\nTheir JEALOUSY is alarmed, as if there was a design to strip them of\nthe only honour they can reasonably pretend to, that of sitting in\njudgment on the _inventions_ of their betters. But to JUDGE, he well\nas to INVENT, is thought a violent encroachment in the republic of\nLetters; not unlike the ambition of the Roman emperors, who would\nbe consuls, and censors too, that is, would have the privilege of\nexcluding from the senate, as well as of presiding in it.\n\nBut if jealousy were out of the case, their MALIGNITY would be much\ninflamed by this intrusion. For who can bear to see his own weak\nendeavours in any art, disgraced by a consummate model?\n\nBesides, to say the truth, the conceptions of such writers, as I before\nspoke of, lie so remote from vulgar apprehension, that, without either\n_jealousy_ or _malignity_, DULLNESS itself will be sure to create them\nmany peevish detractors. For an ordinary critic can scarce help finding\nfault with what he does not understand, or being angry where he has no\nideas.\n\nOn all these accounts it may possibly happen, as I said, that your\ncritical labours will draw upon you much popular resentment and\ninvective.\n\nBut if such should be the _present_ effect of your endeavours to\ncultivate and complete this elegant part of literature, you, who know\nthe temper of the learned world, and, by your eminent merits, have\nso oft provoked its injustice, will not be disturbed or surprized at\nit: much less should it discourage those who are disposed to do you\nmore right, from celebrating, and, as they find themselves able, from\ncopying your example;\n\nFor USE will father what\u2019s begot by SENSE, as well in this, as in other\ninstances.\n\nYou see, Sir, what there is of encomium in the turn of this Letter,\nwas intended not so much for your sake, as my own. Had my purpose been\nany other, I must have chosen very ill among the various parts of your\ncharacter to take _this_ for the subject of an address to you. For,\nafter all I have said and think of your critical abilities, it might\nseem almost as strange in a panegyrist on Mr. Warburton to tell of his\nadmirable criticisms on POPE and SHAKESPEAR, as it would be in him,\nwho should design an encomium on Socrates, to insist on his excellent\nsculpture of MERCURY and the GRACES. Yet there is a time, when it may\nbe allowed to lay a stress on the amusements of such men. It is, when\nan adventurer in either _art_ would do an honour to his profession.\n\n  I am, with the truest esteem,\n\n  Reverend Sir,\n\n  Your most obedient\n\n  and most humble servant,\n\n  R. HURD.\n\n  CAMBRIDGE,\n  _March 29, 1753_.\n\n\n\n\nQ. HORATII FLACCI\n\nEPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM.\n\n\n    Cum tot sustineas et tanta negotia solus,\n    Res Italas armis tuteris, moribus ornes,\n    Legibus emendes; in publica commoda peccem,\n    Si longo sermone morer tua tempora, Caesar.\n    Romulus, et Liber pater, et cum Castore Pollux,              5\n    Post ingentia fata, Deorum in templa recepti,\n    Dum terras hominumque colunt genus, aspera bella\n    Conponunt, agros adsignant, oppida condunt;\n    Ploravere suis non respondere favorem\n    Speratum meritis. diram qui contudit Hydram,                10\n    Notaque fatali portenta labore subegit,\n    Comperit invidiam supremo fine domari.\n    Urit enim fulgore suo, qui praegravat artis\n    Infra se positas: extinctus amabitur idem.\n    Praesenti tibi maturos largimur honores,                    15\n    Jurandasque tuum per numen ponimus aras,\n    Nil oriturum alias, nil ortum tale fatentes.\n    Sed tuus hoc populus sapiens et justus in uno,\n    Te nostris ducibus, te Graiis anteferendo,\n    Cetera nequaquam simili ratione modoque                     20\n    Aestimat; et, nisi quae terris semota suisque\n    Temporibus defuncta videt, fastidit et odit:\n    Sic fautor veterum, ut Tabulas peccare vetantis,\n    Quas bis quinque viri sanxerunt, Foedera regum\n    Vel Gabiis vel cum rigidis aequata Sabinis,                 25\n    Pontificum libros, annosa volumina Vatum,\n    Dictitet Albano Musas in monte locutas.\n    Si, quia Graiorum sunt antiquissima quaeque\n    Scripta vel optima, Romani pensantur eadem\n    Scriptores trutina; non est quod multa loquamur:            30\n    Nil intra est olea, nil extra est in nuce duri:\n    Venimus ad summum fortunae: pingimus, atque\n    Psallimus, et luctamur Achivis doctius unctis.\n    Si meliora dies, ut vina, poemata reddit;\n    Scire velim, chartis pretium quotus arroget annus,          35\n    Scriptor ab hinc annos centum qui decidit, inter\n    Perfectos veteresque referri debet, an inter\n    Vilis atque novos? excludat jurgia finis.\n    Est vetus atque probus centum qui perficit annos.\n    Quid? qui deperiit minor uno mense vel anno,                40\n    Inter quos referendus erit? veteresne poetas,\n    An quos et praesens et postera respuat aetas?\n    Iste quidem veteres inter ponetur honeste,\n    Qui vel mense brevi, vel toto est junior anno.\n    Utor permisso, caudaeque pilos ut equinae                   45\n    Paullatim vello; et demo unum, demo et item unum;\n    Dum cadat elusus ratione ruentis acervi,\n    Qui redit in fastos, et virtutem aestimat annis,\n    Miraturque nihil, nisi quod Libitina sacravit.\n    Ennius et sapiens, et fortis, et alter Homerus,             50\n    Ut critici dicunt, leviter curare videtur\n    Quo promissa cadant, et somnia Pythagorea.\n    Naevius in manibus non est, et mentibus haeret\n    Pene recens? adeo sanctum est vetus omne poema.\n    Ambigitur quotiens, uter utro sit prior; aufert             55\n    Pacuvius docti famam senis, Accius alti:\n    Dicitur Afran\u00ee toga convenisse Menandro:\n    Plautus ad exemplar Siculi properare Epicharmi;\n    Vincere Caecilius gravitate, Terentius arte.\n    Hos ediscit, et hos arto stipata theatro                    60\n    Spectat Roma potens; habet hos numeratque poetas\n    Ad nostrum tempus, Liv\u00ee Scriptoris ab aevo.\n    Interdum volgus rectum videt: est ubi peccat.\n    Si veteres ita miratur laudatque poetas,\n    Ut nihil anteferat, nihil illis comparet; errat:            65\n    Si quaedam nimis antique, si pleraque dure\n    Dicere cedit eos, ignave multa fatetur;\n    Et sapit, et mecum facit, et Jove judicat aequo.\n    Non equidem insector, delendave carmina Laev\u00ee\n    Esse reor, memini quae plagosum mihi parvo                  70\n    Orbilium dictare; sed emendata videri\n    Pulchraque, et exactis minimum distantia, miror:\n    Inter quae verbum emicuit si forte decorum,\n    Si versus paulo concinnior unus et alter;\n    Injuste totum ducit venitque poema.                         75\n    Indignor quicquam reprehendi, non quia crasse\n    Compositum, inlepideve putetur, sed quia nuper:\n    Nec veniam antiquis, sed honorem et praemia posci.\n    Recte necne crocum floresque perambulet Attae\n    Fabula, si dubitem; clament periisse pudorem                80\n    Cuncti pene patres: ea cum reprehendere coner,\n    Quae gravis Aesopus, quae doctus Roscius egit.\n    Vel quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit sibi, ducunt;\n    Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus, et, quae\n    Inberbi didicere, senes perdenda fateri.                    85\n    Jam Saliare Numae carmen qui laudat, et illud\n    Quod mecum ignorat, solus volt scire videri;\n    Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis,\n    Nostra sed inpugnat, nos nostraque lividus odit.\n    Quod si tam Graiis novitas invisa fuisset,                  90\n    Quam nobis; quid nunc esset vetus? aut quid haberet,\n    Quod legeret tereretque viritim publicus usus?\n    Ut primum positis nugari Graecia bellis\n    Coepit, et in vitium fortuna labier aequa;\n    Nunc athletarum studiis, nunc arsit equorum:                95\n    Marmoris, aut eboris fabros, aut aeris amavit;\n    Suspendit picta vultum mentemque tabella;\n    Nunc tibicinibus, nunc est gavisa tragoedis:\n    Sub nutrice puella velut si luderet infans,\n    Quod cupide petiit, mature plena reliquit.                 100\n    Quid placet, aut odio est, quod non mutabile credas?\n    Hoc paces habuere bonae, ventique secundi.\n    Romae dulce diu fuit et sollenne, reclusa\n    Mane domo vigilare, clienti promere jura:\n    Scriptos nominibus rectis expendere nummos:                105\n    Majores audire, minori dicere, per quae\n    Crescere res posset, minui damnosa libido.\n    Mutavit mentem populus levis, et calet uno\n    Scribendi studio: puerique patresque severi\n    Fronde comas vincti coenant, et carmina dictant.           110\n    Ipse ego, qui nullos me adfirmo scribere versus,\n    Invenior Parthis mendacior; et prius orto\n    Sole vigil, calamum et chartas et scrinia posco.\n    Navem agere ignarus navis timet: abrotonum aegro\n    Non audet, nisi qui didicit, dare: quod medicorum est,     115\n    Promittunt medici: tractant fabrilia fabri:\n    Scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim.\n    Hic error tamen et levis haec insania quantas\n    Virtutes habeat, sic collige: vatis avarus\n    Non temere est animus: versus amat, hoc studet unum;       120\n    Detrimenta, fugas servorum, incendia ridet:\n    Non fraudem socio, puerove incogitat ullam\n    Pupillo: vivit siliquis, et pane secundo:\n    Militiae quanquam piger et malus, utilis urbi;\n    Si das hoc, parvis quoque rebus magna juvari;              125\n    Os tenerum pueri balbumque po\u00ebta figurat:\n    Torquet ab obscoenis jam nunc sermonibus aurem;\n    Mox etiam pectus praeceptis format amicis,\n    Asperitatis et invidiae corrector et irae:\n    Recte facta refert; orientia tempora notis                 130\n    Instruit exemplis; inopem solatur et aegrum.\n    Castis cum pueris ignara puella mariti\n    Disceret unde preces, vatem ni Musa dedisset?\n    Poscit opem chorus, et praesentia numina sentit;\n    Coelestis implorat aquas, docta prece blandus;             135\n    Avertit morbos, metuenda pericula pellit;\n    Inpetrat et pacem, et locupletem frugibus annum:\n    Carmine D\u00ee superi placantur, carmine Manes.\n    Agricolae prisci, fortes, parvoque beati,\n    Condita post frumenta, levantes tempore festo              140\n    Corpus et ipsum animum spe finis dura ferentem,\n    Cum sociis operum pueris et conjuge fida,\n    Tellurem porco, Silvanum lacte piabant,\n    Floribus et vino Genium memorem brevis aevi.\n    Fescennina per hunc invecta licentia morem                 145\n    Versibus alternis opprobria rustica fudit;\n    Libertasque recurrentis accepta per annos\n    Lusit amabiliter: donec jam saevus apertam\n    In rabiem coepit verti jocus, et per honestas\n    Ire domos impune minax. doluere cruento                    150\n    Dente lacessiti: fuit intactis quoque cura\n    Conditione super communi: quin etiam lex\n    Poenaque lata, malo quae nollet carmine quemquam\n    Describi. vertere modum, formidine fustis\n    Ad bene dicendum delectandumque redacti.                   155\n    Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit, et artis\n    Intulit agresti Latio. sic horridus ille\n    Defluxit numerus Saturnius, et grave virus\n    Munditiae pepulere: sed in longum tamen aevum\n    Manserunt, hodieque manent, vestigia ruris.                160\n    Serus enim Graecis admovit acumina chartis;\n    Et post Punica bella quietus quaerere coepit,\n    Quid Sophocles et Thespis et Aeschylos utile ferrent:\n    Tentavit quoque rem, si digne vertere posset:\n    Et placuit sibi, natura sublimis et acer.                  165\n    Nam spirat tragicum satis, et feliciter audet;\n    Sed turpem putat inscitus metuitque lituram.\n    Creditur, ex medio quia res arcessit, habere\n    Sudoris minimum; sed habet Comoedia tanto\n    Plus oneris, quanto veniae minus. aspice, Plautus          170\n    Quo pacto partis tutetur amantis ephebi;\n    Ut patris attenti, lenonis ut insidiosi:\n    Quantus sit Dossennus edacibus in parasitis:\n    Quam non adstricto percurrat pulpita socco.\n    Gestit enim nummum in loculos demittere; post hoc          175\n    Securus, cadat an recto stet fabula talo.\n    Quem tulit ad scenam ventoso gloria curru,\n    Exanimat lentus spectator, sedulus inflat.\n    Sic leve, sic parvum est, animum quod laudis avarum\n    Subruit ac reficit. valeat res ludicra, si me              180\n    Palma negata macrum, donata reducit opimum.\n    Saepe, etiam audacem, fugat hoc terretque poetam;\n    Quod numero plures, virtute et honore minores,\n    Indocti, stolidique, et depugnare parati\n    Si discordet eques, media inter carmina poscunt            185\n    Aut ursum aut pugiles: his nam plebecula gaudet.\n    Verum equiti quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas\n    Omnis, ad ingratos oculos, et gaudia vana.\n    Quatuor aut pluris aulaea premuntur in horas;\n    Dum fugiunt equitum turmae, peditumque catervae:           190\n    Mox trahitur manibus regum fortuna retortis:\n    Esseda festinant, pilenta, petorrita, naves:\n    Captivum portatur ebur, captiva Corinthus.\n    Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus; seu\n    Diversum confusa genus panthera camelo,                    195\n    Sive elephas albus volgi converterit ora:\n    Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipsis,\n    Ut sibi praebentem mimo spectacula plura:\n    Scriptores autem narrare putaret asello\n    Fabellam surdo. nam quae pervincere voces                  200\n    Evaluere sonum, referunt quem nostra theatra?\n    Garganum mugire putes nemus, aut mare Tuscum.\n    Tanto cum strepitu ludi spectantur, et artes,\n    Divitiaeque peregrinae: quibus oblitus actor\n    Cum stetit in scena, concurrit dextera laevae:             205\n    Dixit adhuc aliquid? nil sane. quid placet ergo?\n    Lana Tarentino violas imitata veneno.\n    Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipse recusem,\n    Cum recte tractent alii, laudare maligne:\n    Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur                 210\n    Ire poeta; meum qui pectus inaniter angit,\n    Inritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus inplet,\n    Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.\n    Verum age, et his, qui se lectori credere malunt,\n    Quam spectatoris fastidia ferre superbi,                   215\n    Curam impende brevem: si munus Apolline dignum\n    Vis complere libris; et vatibus addere calcar,\n    Ut studio majore petant Helicona virentem.\n    Multa quidem nobis facimus mala saepe po\u00ebtae,\n    (Ut vineta egomet caedam mea) cum tibi librum              220\n    Sollicito damus, aut fesso: cum laedimur, unum\n    Si quis amicorum est ausus reprendere versum:\n    Cum loca jam recitata revolvimus inrevocati:\n    Cum lamentamur non adparere labores\n    Nostros, et tenui deducta poemata filo:                    225\n    Cum speramus eo rem venturam, ut, simul atque\n    Carmina rescieris nos fingere, commodus ultro\n    Arcessas, et egere vetes, et scribere cogas.\n    Sed tamen est operae pretium cognoscere, qualis\n    Aedituos habeat belli spectata domique                     230\n    Virtus, indigno non committenda poetae.\n    Gratus Alexandro regi Magno fuit ille\n    Choerilos, incultis qui versibus et male natis\n    Rettulit acceptos, regale nomisma, Philippos.\n    Sed veluti tractata notam labemque remittunt               235\n    Atramenta, fere scriptores carmine foedo\n    Splendida facta linunt. idem rex ille, po\u00ebma\n    Qui tam ridiculum tam care prodigus emit,\n    Edicto vetuit; ne quis se, praeter Apellen\n    Pingeret, aut alius Lysippo cuderet aera                   240\n    Fortis Alexandri voltum simulantia. quod si\n    Judicium subtile videndis artibus illud\n    Ad libros et ad haec Musarum dona vocares;\n    Boeotum in crasso jurares a\u00ebre natum.\n    At neque dedecorant tua de se judicia, atque               245\n    Munera, quae multa dantis cum laude tulerunt,\n    Dilecti tibi Virgilius Variusque poetae:\n    Nec magis expressi voltus per a\u00ebnea signa,\n    Quam per vatis opus mores animique virorum\n    Clarorum adparent. nec sermones ego mallem                 250\n    Repentis per humum, quam res componere gestas,\n    Terrarumque situs, et flumina dicere, et arcis\n    Montibus impositas, et barbara regna, tuisque\n    Auspiciis totum confecta duella per orbem,\n    Claustraque custodem pacis cohibentia Janum,               255\n    Et formidatam Parthis, te principe, Romam:\n    Si quantum cuperem, possem quoque. sed neque parvum\n    Carmen majestas recipit tua; nec meus audet\n    Rem tentare pudor, quam vires ferre recusent.\n    Sedulitas autem stulte, quem diligit, urguet;              260\n    Praecipue cum se numeris commendat et arte.\n    Discit enim citius, meminitque libentius illud\n    Quod quis deridet, quam quod probat et veneratur.\n    Nil moror officium, quod me gravat: ac neque ficto\n    In pejus voltu proponi cereus usquam,                      265\n    Nec prave factis decorari versibus opto:\n    Ne rubeam pingui donatus munere, et una\n    Cum scriptore meo capsa porrectus operta,\n    Deferar in vicum vendentem tus et odores,\n    Et piper, et quicquid chartis amicitur ineptis.            270\n\n\nCOMMENTARY.\n\nEPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM.] In conducting this work, which is _an apology\nfor the poets of his own time_, the method of the writer is no other,\nthan that which plain sense, and the subject itself, required of\nhim. For, as the main dislike to the Augustan poets had arisen from\nan _excessive reverence_ paid to their elder brethren, the _first_\npart of the epistle [from v. 1 to 118] is very naturally laid out in\nthe ridicule and confutation of so absurd a prejudice. And having,\nby this preparation, obtained a candid hearing for his defence, he\nthen proceeds [in what follows, to the _end_] to vindicate their real\n_merits_; setting in view the excellencies of the _Latin poetry_, as\ncultivated by the great modern masters; and throwing the blame of\ntheir ill success, and of the contempt in which they had lain, not so\nmuch on themselves, or their _profession_ (the dignity of _which_, in\nparticular, he insists highly upon, and asserts with spirit) as on the\nvicious taste of the age, and certain unfavouring circumstances, which\nhad accidentally concurred to dishonour _both_.\n\nThis idea of the _general_ plan being comprehended, the reader will\nfind it no difficulty to perceive the order and arrangement of\n_particular_ parts, which the natural transition of the poet\u2019s thought\ninsensibly drew along with it.\n\n5-118. ROMULUS, ET LIBER PATER, &c.] The subject commences from v. 5,\nwhere, by a contrivance of great beauty, a pertinent _illustration_\nof the poet\u2019s argument becomes an offering of the happiest _address_\nto the emperor. Its _double_ purpose may be seen thus. His primary\nintention was to take off the force of prejudice against _modern_\npoets, arising from the superior veneration of the _ancients_. To\nthis end the first thing wanting was to demonstrate by some striking\ninstance, that it was, indeed, nothing but _prejudice_; which he\ndoes effectually in taking that instance from the _heroic_, that is,\nthe most revered, ages. For if such, whose acknowledged virtues and\neminent services had raised them to the rank of _heroes_, that is, in\nthe pagan conception of things, to the honours of _divinity_, could\nnot secure their fame, in their own times, against the malevolence of\nslander, what wonder that the race of _wits_, whose obscurer merit is\nless likely to dazzle the public eye, and yet, by a peculiar fatality,\nis more apt to awaken its jealousy, should find themselves oppressed\nby its rudest censure? In the _former_ case the honours, which equal\nposterity paid to excelling worth, declare all _such_ censure to have\nbeen the calumny of malice only. What reason then to conclude, it had\nany other original in the _latter_? This is the poet\u2019s _argument_.\n\nBut now, of these worthies themselves, whom the justice of grateful\nposterity had snatched out of the hands of detraction, there were some,\nit seems, whose illustrious services the virtue or vain-glory of the\nemperor most affected to emulate; and these, therefore, the poet, by an\ningenious flattery, selects for examples to his general _observation_,\n\n    _Romulus, et Liber pater, et cum Castore Pollux\n    Post ingentia fata_, &c.\n\nFurther, as the good fortune of Augustus, though adorned with the\n_same_ enviable qualities, had exempted _him_ from the injuries which\nhad constantly befallen _those admired characters_, this peculiar\ncircumstance in the history of his prince affords him the happiest\noccasion, flattery could desire, of paying distinguished honours to his\nglory.\n\n    _Praesenti tibi maturos largimur honores._\n\nAnd this constitutes the fine _address and compliment of his\nApplication_.\n\nBut this justice, which Augustus had exacted, as it were, by the very\nauthority of his virtue, from his applauding people, was but ill\ndischarged in other instances.\n\n    _Sed tuus hoc populus sapiens et justus in uno,\n    Te nostris ducibus, te Graiis anteferendo,\n    Cetera nequaquam simili ratione modoque\n    Aestimat_, &c.\n\nAnd thus the very _exception_ to the general rule, which forms the\nencomium, leads him with advantage into his _argument_; which was\nto observe and expose \u201cthe malignant influence of prepossession in\nobstructing the proper glories of living merit.\u201d So that, as good sense\ndemands in every reasonable panegyric, the praise results from the\nnature and foundation of the subject-matter, and is not violently and\nreluctantly dragged into it.\n\nHis general charge against his countrymen \u201cof their bigotted attachment\nto those, dignified by the name of _ancients_, in prejudice to the just\ndeserts of the moderns,\u201d being thus delivered; and the folly of such\nconduct, with some agreeable exaggeration, exposed; he sets himself\nwith a happy mixture of irony and argument, as well becomes the genius\nand character of the _epistle_, to confute the pretences, and overturn\nthe very _foundations_, on which it rested.\n\nOne main support of their folly was taken from an allowed fact, viz.\n\u201cThat the oldest _Greek_ writers were incontestably superior to the\nmodern ones.\u201d From whence they inferred, that it was but according to\nnature and the course of experience, to give the like preference to the\noldest _Roman_ masters.\n\nHis confutation of this sophism consists of two parts. _First_, [from\nv. 28 to 32] he insists on the _evident_ absurdity of the opinion he\nis confuting. There was no reasoning with persons, capable of such\n_extravagant positions_. But, _secondly_, the pretended fact itself,\nwith regard to the Greek learning, was _grossly misunderstood, or\nperversely applied_. For [from v. 32 to 34] it was not true, nor\ncould it be admitted, that the very _oldest_ of the _Greek_ writers\nwere the best, but those only, which were old, in comparison of the\nmere modern Greeks. The so much applauded models of Grecian antiquity\nwere themselves _modern_, in respect of the still _older_ and ruder\nessays of their first writers. It was long discipline and cultivation,\nthe same which had given the Greek _artists_ in the Augustan reign a\nsuperiority over the Roman, that by degrees established the good taste,\nand fixed the authority of the Greek _poets_; from which point it was\nnatural and even necessary for succeeding, _i. e._ the modern Greeks\nto decline. But no consequence lay from hence to the advantage of the\nLatin poets, in question; who were wholly unfurnished with any previous\nstudy of the arts of verse; and whose works could only be compared with\nthe very _oldest_, that is, the rude forgotten essays of the Greek\npoetry. So that the fine sense, so closely shut up in this concise\ncouplet, comes out thus: \u201cThe modern Greek masters of the _fine arts_\nare confessedly superior to the modern Roman. The reason is, they have\npractised them longer, and with more diligence. Just so, the modern\nRoman writers must needs have the advantage of their _old_ ones: who\nhad no knowledge of writing, as an _art_, or, if they had, took but\nsmall care to put it in practice.\u201d\n\nFurther, this plea of antiquity is as uncertain in its _application_,\nas it was destitute of all truth and reason in its original\n_foundation_. For if age only must bear away the palm, what way is\nthere of determining, which writers are _modern_, and which _ancient_?\nThe impossibility of fixing this to the satisfaction of an objector,\nwhich is pursued [to v. 50] with much agreeable raillery, makes it\nevident, that the circumstance of antiquity is absolutely nothing;\nand that in _estimating the merit_ of writers, the real, intrinsic\nexcellence of their writings _themselves_ is alone to be regarded.\n\nThus far the poet\u2019s intent was to combat the _general_ prejudice of the\ncritic,\n\n    _Qui redit in fastos et virtutem aestimat annis._\n\nTaking the fact for granted \u201cof his strong prepossession for antiquity,\n_as such_\u201d he would discredit, both by raillery and argument, so\nabsurd a conduct. What he gains, by this disposition, is to come to\nthe _particulars_ of his charge with more advantage. For the popular\ncontempt of modern composition, sheltering itself under a shew of\nlearned admiration of the _ancients_, whose age and reputation had\nmade them truly venerable, and whose genuine merits, in the main,\ncould not be disputed, a direct attack upon their fame, at setting\nout, without any softening, had disgusted the most _moderate_; whereas\nthis prefatory appeal to common sense, under the cover of general\ncriticism, would even dispose bigotry itself to afford the poet a\ncandid hearing. His accusation then of the public taste comes in, here,\nvery pertinently; and is delivered, with address [from v. 50 to 63] in\na particular detail of the judgements passed upon the most celebrated\nof the old Roman poets, by the generality of the modern critics; where,\nto win upon their prejudices still further by his generosity and good\nfaith, he scruples not to recount such of their determinations on the\nmerit of ancient writers, as were reasonable and well founded, as\nwell as others, that he deemed less just, and as such intended more\nimmediately to expose.\n\nWe see then with what art the poet conducts himself in this attack on\nthe _ancients_, and how it served his purpose, by turns, to soften and\naggravate the _charge_. _First_, \u201che wanted to lower the reputation\nof the old poets.\u201d This was not to be done by general invective or an\naffected dissimulation of their just praise. He admits then [from v. 63\nto 66] their reasonable pretensions to _admiration_. \u2019Tis the _degree_\nof it alone, to which he objects.\n\n    _Si veteres_ ITA _miratur laudatque_, &c.\n\n_Secondly_, \u201che wanted to draw off their applauses from \u201cthe ancient\nto the modern poets.\u201d This required the _advantages_ of those\nmoderns to be distinctly shewn, or, which comes to the same, the\n_comparative deficiencies_ of the ancients to be pointed out. These\nwere not to be dissembled, and are, as he openly insists [to v. 69]\n_obsolete language_, _rude and barbarous construction_, and _slovenly\ncomposition_,\n\n    _Si quaedam nimis_ ANTIQUE, _si pleraque_ DURE,\n    _Dicere cedit eos_, IGNAVE _multa_.\n\nBut what then? an objector replies, these were venial faults, surely;\nthe _deficiencies_ of the times, and not of the men; who, with such\nincorrectnesses as are here noted, might still possess the greatest\n_talents_, and produce the noblest _designs_. This [from v. 69 to 79]\nis readily admitted. But, in the mean time, one thing was clear, that\nthey were not _finished models_\u2014_exactis minimum distantia_. Which was\nthe main point in dispute. For the bigot\u2019s absurdity lay in this,\n\n    _Non veniam antiquis, sed honorem et praemia posci._\n\nNay, his folly is shewn to have gone still greater lengths. These\nboasted models of antiquity, with all their imperfections, had\noccasionally [v. 73, 74] though the instances were indeed rare and\nthinly scattered, _striking beauties_. These, under the recommendation\nof _age_, which, of course, commands our reverence, might well\nimpose on the judgements of the _generality_, and standing forth\nwith advantage, as from a shaded and dark _ground_, would naturally\ncatch the eye and admiration of the more _learned_. Thus much the\npoet candidly insinuates in excuse of the bigot\u2019s _ill judgment_.\nBut, unluckily, he had cut himself off from the benefit of this plea,\nby avowedly grounding his _admiration_, not merely on the intrinsic\nexcellence, so far as it went, of the ancient poetry itself; but on the\nadvantage of any extraneous circumstance, which but casually stuck to\nit. The accident of a play\u2019s having passed though the mouth, and been\ngraced by the action, of a just speaker, was sufficient [from v. 79 to\n83] (so inexcusable were his prejudices) to attract his wonder, and\njustify his esteem. In so much that it became an insolence, generally\ncried out upon, for any one to censure such pieces of the theatre,\n\n    _Quae gravis \u00c6sopus, quae doctus Roscius egit._\n\nThis being the case, it was no longer a doubt, whether the affected\nadmiration of antiquity proceeded from a deluded judgment only, or a\nmuch worse cause. It could plainly be resolved into no other, than\nthe willful agency of the malignant affections; which, wherever they\nprevail, corrupt the simple and ingenuous sense of the mind, either\n1. [v. 83] _in engendring high conceits of self_, and referring all\ndegrees of excellence to the supposed infallible standard of every\nman\u2019s own judgment; or 2. [to v. 86] _in creating a false shame_, and\nreluctancy in us to be directed by the judgments of others, though\n_seen_ to be more equitable, whenever they are found in opposition to\nour own rooted and preconceived opinions. The bigotry of _old Men_ is,\nespecially, for this reason, invincible. They hold themselves upbraided\nby the sharper sight of their juniors; and regard the adoption of new\nsentiments, at their years, as so much absolute loss on the side of the\ndead stock of their old literary possessions. These considerations are\ngenerally of such prevalency in great veteran critics, that [from v.\n86 to 90] whenever, as in the case before us, they pretend an uncommon\nzeal for antiquity, and their sagacity piques itself on detecting the\nsuperior value of obscure rhapsodists whom no body else reads, or is\nable to understand, we may be sure the secret view of such, is, not the\ngenerous defence and patronage of _ancient_ wit, but a low malevolent\npleasure in decrying the just pretensions of the _modern_.\n\n    _Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis,\n    Nostra sed impugnat, nos nostraque lividus odit._\n\nThe poet had, now, made appear the unreasonable attachment of his\ncountrymen to the fame of their old writers. He had thoroughly\nunravelled the sophistical pretences, on which it affected to justify\nitself; and had even dared to unveil the _secret iniquitous principle_,\nfrom which it arose. It was now time to look forward to the _effects_\nof it; which were, in truth, very baleful; its poisonous influences\nbeing of force to corrupt and wither, as it were, in the bud, every\nrising species of excellence, and fatally to check the very hopes and\ntendencies of true genius. Nothing can be truer, than this remark;\nwhich he further enforces, and brings home to his adversaries, by\nasking a pertinent question, to which it concerned them to make a\nserious reply. They had magnified v. 28 the perfection of the Greek\nmodels. But what [to v. 93] if the Greeks had conceived the same\naversion to _novelties_, as the Romans? How then could _those_ models\nhave ever been furnished to the public use? The question, we see,\ninsinuates what was before affirmed to be the truth of the case; that\nthe unrivalled excellence of the Greek poets proceeded only from\nlong and vigorous exercise, and a painful uninterrupted application\nto the arts of verse. The liberal spirit of that people led them to\ncountenance every new attempt towards superior literary excellence;\nand so, by the public favour, their writings, from rude essays, became\nat length the standard and admiration of succeeding wits. The Romans\nhad treated their adventurers quite otherwise, and the effect was\nanswerable. This is the purport of what to a common eye may look like\na _digression_ [from v. 93 to 108], in which is delineated the very\ndifferent genius and practice of the two nations. For the _Greeks_ [to\nv. 102] had applied themselves, in the intervals of their leisure from\nthe toils of war, to the cultivation of every species of elegance,\nwhether in _arts_, or _letters_; and loved to cherish the public\nemulation, by affording a free indulgence to the various and volatile\ndisposition of the times. The activity of these restless spirits, was\nincessantly attempting some new and untryed _form_ of composition; and,\nwhen _that_ was brought to a due degree of perfection, it turned, _in\ngood time_, to the cultivation of some _other_.\n\n    _Quod cupide petiit, mature plena reliquit._\n\nSo that the very caprice of _humour_ [v. 101] assisted, in this\nlibertine country, to advance and help forward the public taste. Such\nwas the effect of _peace and opportunity_ with them.\n\n    _Hoc paces habuere bonae ventique secundi._\n\nWhereas the _Romans_ [to v. 108] by a more composed temperament and\nsaturnine complexion had devoted their pains to the pursuit of domestic\nutilities, and a more dexterous management of the _arts of gain_. The\nconsequence of which was, that when [to v. 117] by the decay of the\nold frugal spirit, the necessary effect of overflowing plenty and\nease, they began, at length, to seek out for the elegancies of life;\nand _a fit of versifying_, the first of all liberal amusements, that\nusually seizes an idle people, had come upon them; their ignorance of\nrules, and want of exercise in the art of writing, rendered them wholly\nunfit to succeed in it. So that their awkward attempts in poetry were\nnow as disgraceful to their _taste_, as their total disregard of it,\nbefore, had been to their _civility_. The root of this mischief was the\nidolatrous regard paid to their ancient poets: which unluckily, when\nthe public emulation was set a going, not only checked its progress,\nbut gave it a wrong bias; and, instead of helping true genius to\noutstrip the lame and tardy endeavours of ancient wit, drew it aside\ninto a vicious and unprofitable mimicry of its very imperfections.\nWhence it had come to pass, that, whereas in other _arts_, the previous\nknowledge of rules is required to the practice of them, in this of\n_versifying_, no such qualification was deemed necessary.\n\n    _Scribimus indocti doctique poemata passim._\n\nThis mischance was _doubly_ fatal to the Latin poetry. For the ill\nsuccess of these blind adventurers had increased the original mischief,\nby confirming, as it needs must, the superstitious reverence of the\nold writers; and insensibly brought, as well the art itself, as the\nmodern professors of it, into disrepute with the discerning public.\nThe vindication of _both_, then, at this critical juncture, was become\nhighly seasonable; and to this, which was the poet\u2019s main purpose, he\naddresses himself through the remainder of the epistle.\n\n118 to the end. HIC ERROR TAMEN, &c.] Having sufficiently obviated\nthe popular and reigning prejudices against the modern poets, his\noffice of _advocate_ for their fame, which he had undertaken, and was\nnow to discharge, in form, required him to set their real merits and\npretensions in a just light. He enters therefore immediately on this\ntask. And, in drawing the character of the _true poet_, endeavours to\nimpress the Emperor with as advantageous an idea as possible, of the\nworth and dignity of his calling. And this, not in the fierce insulting\ntone of a zealot for the _honour of his order_, which to the _great_\nis always disgusting, and where the occasion is, confessedly, not of\nthe last importance, plainly absurd; but with that unpretending air\nof insinuation, which good sense, improved by a thorough knowledge\nof the world, teaches: with that seeming indifference which disarms\nprejudice: in a word, with that gracious _smile in his aspect_, which\nhis strong admirer and faint copyer, Persius, so justly noted in him,\nand which convinces almost without the help of argument; or to say it\nmore truly, _persuades_ where it doth not properly _convince_. In this\ndisposition he sets out on his defence; and yet omits no _particular_,\nwhich could any way serve to the real recommendation of _poets_, or\nwhich indeed, the gravest or warmest of their friends have ever pleaded\nin their behalf. This defence consists [from v. 118 to 139] in bringing\ninto view their many _civil_, _moral_, and _religious_ virtues. For\nthe muse, as the poet contends (and nothing could be more likely to\nconciliate the esteem of the politic emperor) administers, in this\nthreefold capacity, to the service of the state.\n\nBut _Religion_, which was its _noblest end_, was, besides, the _first\nobject_ of poetry. The dramatic muse, in particular, had her birth,\nand derived her very character, from it. This circumstance then leads\nhim with advantage, to give an historical deduction of the rise and\nprogress of the Latin poesy, from its first rude workings in the days\nof barbarous superstition, through every successive period of its\nimprovement, down to his own times. Such a view of its descent and\ngradual reformation was directly to the poet\u2019s purpose. For having\nmagnified the virtues of his order, as of such importance to society,\nthe question naturally occurred, by what unhappy means it had fallen\nout, that it was, nevertheless, in such low estimation with the public.\nThe answer is, that the state of the Latin poetry, as yet, was very\nrude and imperfect: and so the public disregard was occasioned, only,\nby its not having attained to that degree of perfection, of which its\n_nature_ was capable. Many reasons had concurred to keep the Latin\npoetry in this state, which he proceeds to enumerate. The _first and\nprincipal_ was [from v. 139 to 164] the little attention paid _to\ncritical learning, and the cultivation of a correct and just spirit\nof composition_. Which, again, had arisen from the coarse illiberal\ndisposition of the Latin muse, who had been nurtured and brought up\nunder the roof of rural superstition; and this, by an impure mixture of\nlicentious jollity, had so corrupted her very nature, that it was only\nby slow degrees, and not till the conquest of Greece had imported arts\nand learning into Italy, that she began to chastise her manners, and\nassume a juster and more becoming deportment. And still she was but in\nthe condition of a rustic _beauty_, when, practising her aukward airs,\nand making her first ungracious essays towards a _manner_.\n\n                   _in longum tamen aevum\n    Manserunt, hodieque manent_ vestigia ruris.\n\nHer late acquaintance with the Greek models had, indeed, improved her\nair, and inspired an inclination to emulate their noblest graces. But\nhow successfully, we are given to understand from her unequal attempts\nin the two sublimer species of their poetry, the TRAGIC, AND COMIC\nDRAMAS.\n\n1. [from v. 160 to 168] The _study of the Greek tragedians_ had very\nnaturally, and to good purpose, in the infancy of their taste, disposed\nthe Latin writers to _translation_. Here they stuck long; for their\ntragedy, even in the Augustan age, was little else; and yet they\nsucceeded but indifferently in it. The bold and animated genius of\nRome was, it is readily owned, well suited to this work. And for force\nof colouring, and a truly tragic elevation, the Roman poets came not\nbehind their great originals. But unfortunately their judgment was\nunformed, and they were too soon satisfied with their own productions.\nStrength and fire was all they endeavoured after. And with this praise\nthey sate down perfectly contented. The discipline of correction, the\ncurious polishing of art, which had given such a lustre to the Greek\ntragedians, they knew nothing of; or, to speak their case more truly,\nthey held disgraceful to the high spirit and energy of the Roman genius:\n\n  TURPEM PUTAT IN SCRIPTIS METUITQUE LITURAM.\n\n2. It did not fare better with them [from v. 168 to 175] in their\nattempts to rival _the Greek comedy_. They preposterously set out\nwith the notion of its being easier to execute this drama than the\ntragic: whereas to hit its genuine character with exactness was, in\ntruth, a point of much more difficulty. As the _subject_ of comedy\nwas taken from common life, they supposed an ordinary degree of care\nmight suffice, to do it justice. No wonder then, they overlooked or\nnever came up to that nice adjustment of the _manners_, that truth and\ndecorum of _character_, wherein the glory of comic painting consists,\nand which none but the quickest eye can discern, and the steadiest\nhand execute; and, in the room, amused us with _high colouring_,\nand _false drawing_; with _extravagant, aggravated portraitures_;\nwhich, neglecting the modest proportion of real life, are the certain\narguments of an unpractised pencil, or vicious taste.\n\nWhat contributed to this prostitution of the comic muse, was [to v.\n177] the seducement of that corruptress of all virtue, _the love of\nmoney_; which had thoroughly infected the Roman wits, and was, in fact,\nthe sole object of their pains. Hence, provided they could but catch\nthe applauses of the people, to which the pleasantry of the comic scene\nmore especially aspires, and so secure a good round _price_ from the\nmagistrates, whose office it was to furnish this kind of entertainment,\nthey became indifferent to every nobler view and honester purpose.\nIn particular [to v. 182] they so little considered _fame and the\npraise of good writing_, that they made it the ordinary topic of their\nridicule; representing it as the mere illusion of vanity, and the\npitiable infirmity of _lean-witted_ minds, to be catched by the lure of\nso empty and unsubstantial a benefit.\n\nThough, were any one, in defiance of public ridicule, so _daring_\n(as there is no occasion in life, which calls for, or demonstrates\na greater firmness), as frankly to avow and submit himself to this\ngenerous _motive_, the surest inspirer of every virtuous excellence,\nyet one thing remained to check and weaken the vigour of his emulation.\nThis [from v. 182 to 187] was the folly and ill taste of the\nundiscerning multitude; who, in all countries, have a great share in\ndetermining the fate and character of scenical representations, but,\nfrom the popular constitution of the government, were, at Rome, of the\nfirst consequence. These, by their rude clamours, and the authority\nof their numbers, were enough to dishearten the most intrepid genius;\nwhen, after all his endeavours to reap the glory of an absolute work,\nthe _action_ was almost sure to be mangled and broken in upon by the\nshews of _wild beasts and gladiators_; those _dear delights_, which the\nRomans, it seems, prized much above the highest pleasures of the drama.\n\nNay, the poet\u2019s case was still more desperate. For it was not the\nuntutored rabble, as in other countries, that gave a countenance to\nthese illiberal sports: even _rank and quality_, at Rome, debased\nitself in shewing the fiercest passion for these _shews_, and was\nas ready, as abject commonalty itself, to prefer the uninstructing\npleasures of the _eye_ to those of the _ear_.\n\n      EQUITI _quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas\n    Omnis ad ingratos oculos et gaudia vana._\n\nAnd, because this barbarity of taste had contributed more than any\nthing else to deprave the poetry of the stage, and discourage its best\nmasters from studying its perfection, what follows [from v. 189 to 207]\nis intended, in all the keenness of raillery, to satyrize this madness.\nIt afforded an ample field for the poet\u2019s ridicule. For, besides the\nriotous disorders of their theatre, the senseless admiration of _pomp\nand spectacle_ in their plays had so inchanted his countrymen, that\nthe very decorations of the scene, the tricks and trappings of the\ncomedians, were surer to catch the applauses of the gaping multitude,\nthan any regard to the justness of the poet\u2019s design, or the beauty of\nhis execution.\n\nHere the poet should naturally have concluded his _defence of the\ndramatic writers_; having alledged every thing in their favour, that\ncould be urged, plausibly, from _the state of the Roman stage: the\ngenius of the people: and the several prevailing practices of ill\ntaste_, which had brought them into disrepute with the best judges.\nBut finding himself obliged, in the course of this vindication of the\nmodern _stage-poets_, to censure as sharply, as their very enemies, the\nvices and defects of their _poetry_; and fearing lest this severity\non a sort of writing, to which himself had never pretended, might be\nmisinterpreted as the effect of envy only, and a malignant disposition\ntowards the art itself, under cover of pleading for its _professors_,\nhe therefore frankly avows [from v. 208 to 214] his preference of the\n_dramatic_, to every other species of poetry; declaring the sovereignty\nof its pathos over the _affections_, and the magic of its illusive\nscenery on the _Imagination_, to be the highest argument of poetic\nexcellence, the last and noblest exercise of the human genius.\n\nOne thing still remained. He had taken upon himself to apologize for\nthe Roman poets, in _general_; as may be seen from the large terms, in\nwhich he proposes his subject.\n\n    _Hic error tamen et levis haec insania quantas\n    Virtutes habeat, sic collige._\n\nBut, after a general encomium on the _office_ itself, he confines his\ndefence to the _writers for the stage_ only. In conclusion then, he was\nconstrained, by the very purpose of his address, to say a word or two\nin behalf of the remainder of this neglected family; of those, who, as\nthe poet expresses it, had _rather trust to the equity of the closet,\nthan subject themselves to the caprice and insolence of the theatre_.\n\nNow, as before, in asserting the honour of the stage-poets he every\nwhere supposes the emperor\u2019s _disgust_ to have sprung from the wrong\nconduct of the poets themselves, and then extenuates the blame of\nsuch _conduct_, by considering, still further, the _causes_ which\ngave rise to it; so he prudently observes the like method here. The\npoliteness of his address concedes to Augustus, the just _offence_ he\nhad taken to his brother poets; whose honour, however, he contrives\nto save by softening the _occasions_ of it. This is the drift of what\nfollows [from v. 214 to 229] where he pleasantly recounts the several\nfoibles and indiscretions of the muse; but in a way, that could only\ndispose the emperor to smile at, or at most, to pity her infirmities,\nnot provoke his serious censure and disesteem. They amount, on the\nwhole, but to certain idlenesses of _vanity_, the almost inseparable\nattendant of _wit_, as well as _beauty_; and may be forgiven in _each_,\nas implying a strong _desire_ of pleasing, or rather as _qualifying_\nboth to please. One of the most exceptionable of these _vanities_ was a\nfond persuasion, too readily taken up by men of parts and genius, that\n_preferment is the constant pay of merit_; and that, from the moment\ntheir talents become known to the public, distinction and advancement\nare sure to follow. They believed, in short, they had only to convince\nthe world of their superior abilities, to deserve the favour and\ncountenance of their prince. But fond and presumptuous as these hopes\nare (continues the poet [from v. 229 to 244] with all the insinuation\nof a courtier, and yet with a becoming sense of the dignity of his\nown character) it may deserve a serious consideration, what poets are\nfit to be entrusted with the glory of princes; what _ministers_ are\nworth retaining in the service of an illustrious VIRTUE, whose honours\ndemand to be solemnized with a religious reverence, and should not be\nleft to the profanation of vile, unhallowed hands. And, to support\nthe authority of this remonstrance, he alledges the example of a\ngreat Monarch, who had dishonoured himself by a neglect of this care;\nof ALEXANDER THE GREAT, who, when master of the world, as Augustus\nnow was, perceived, indeed, the importance of gaining a poet to his\nservice; but unluckily chose so ill, that his encomiums (as must ever\nbe the case with a vile panegyrist) but tarnished the native splendor\nof those virtues, which his office required him to present, in their\nfullest and fairest glory, to the admiration of the world. In his\nappointment of _artists_, whose skill is, also, highly serviceable to\nthe fame of princes, he shewed a truer judgment. For he suffered none\nbut an APELLES and a LYSIPPUS to counterfeit the form and fashion of\nhis _person_. But his _taste_, which was thus exact and even _subtile_\nin what concerned the mechanic execution of the _fine arts_, took up\nwith a CHOERILUS, to transmit an image of his _mind_ to future ages;\nso grosly undiscerning was he in works of poetry, and the liberal\n_offerings of the muse_!\n\nAnd thus the poet makes a double use of the illjudgment of this\nimperial critic. For nothing could better demonstrate the importance\nof _poetry_ to the honour of _greatness_, than that this illustrious\nconqueror, without any particular knowledge or discernment in the\n_art_ itself, should think himself concerned to court its assistance.\nAnd, then, what could be more likely to engage the emperor\u2019s further\nprotection and love of _poetry_, than the insinuation (which is\nmade with infinite address) that, as he honoured it equally, so he\nunderstood its merits much better? For [from v. 245 to 248, where, by\na beautiful concurrence, the flattery of his prince falls in with the\nhonester purpose of doing justice to the memory of his friends] it was\nnot the same unintelligent liberality, which had cherished Choerilus,\nthat poured the full stream of Caesar\u2019s bounty on such persons, as\nVARIUS and VIRGIL. And, as if the spirit of these inimitable poets\nhad, at once, seized him, he breaks away in a bolder run of verse\n[from v. 248 to 250] _to sing the triumphs of an art_, which expressed\nthe _manners and the mind_ in fuller and more durable _relief_, than\npainting or even sculpture had ever been able to give to the external\n_figure_: And [from v. 250 to the end] _apologizes for himself_ in\nadopting the humbler epistolary _species_, when a warmth of inclination\nand the unrivaled glories of his prince were continually urging him on\nto the nobler, _encomiastic_ poetry. His excuse, in brief, is taken\nfrom the conscious inferiority of his genius, and a tenderness for\nthe fame of the emperor, which is never more disserved than by the\nofficious sedulity of bad poets to do it honour. And with this apology,\none while condescending to the unfeigned humility of a person, sensible\nof the _kind and measure_ of his abilities, and then, again, sustaining\nitself by a freedom and even familiarity, which real merit knows, on\ncertain occasions, to take without offence, the epistle concludes.\n\nIf the general opinion may be trusted, this, which was one of the\n_last_, is also among the _noblest_, of the great poet\u2019s compositions.\nPerhaps, the reader, who considers it in the plain and simple order, to\nwhich the foregoing analysis hath reduced it, may satisfy himself, that\nthis praise hath not been undeservedly bestowed.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\nON THE\n\nEPISTLE TO AUGUSTUS.\n\n\nEPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM.] The epistle to AUGUSTUS is _an apology for the\nRoman poets_. The epistle to the PISOS, _a criticism on their poetry_.\n_This_ to Augustus may be therefore considered as a sequel of _that_ to\nthe Pisos; and which could not well be omitted; for the author\u2019s design\nof forwarding the study and improvement of the _art of poetry_ required\nhim to bespeak the public favour to its _professors_.\n\nBut as, _there_, in correcting the abuses of their poetry, he mixes,\noccasionally, some encomiums on _poets_; so, _here_, in pleading the\ncause of the poets, we find him interweaving instructions on _poetry_.\nWhich was but according to the writer\u2019s _occasions_ in each work. For\nthe freedom of his censure on the _art of poetry_ was to be softened\nby some expressions of his good-will towards the poets; and this\napology for their _fame_ had been too direct and unmanaged, but for\nthe qualifying appearance of its intending the further benefit of\nthe _art_. The coincidence, then, of the same general _method_, as well\nas _design_, in the two epistles, made it not improper to give them\ntogether, and on the same footing, to the public. Though both the\n_subject_ and _method_ of this last are so clear as to make a continued\ncommentary upon it much less wanted.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n4. SI LONGO SERMONE MORER TUA TEMPORA, CAESAR.] The poet is thought to\nbegin with apologizing for the _shortness of this epistle_. And yet\n\u2019tis one of the longest he ever wrote. How is this inconsistency to be\nreconciled? \u201cHorace parle p\u00eaut\u00eatre ainsi pour ne pas rebuter Auguste,\net pour lui faire conn\u00f4itre, qu\u2019il auroit fait une lettre, beaucoup\nplus longue, s\u2019il avoit suivi son inclination.\u201d This is the best\naccount of the matter we have, hitherto, been able to come at. But the\nfamiliar civility of such a compliment, as M. Dacier supposes, though\nit might be well enough to an _equal_, or, if dressed up in spruce\nphrases, might make a figure in the _lettres familieres et galantes_ of\nhis own nation; yet is surely of a cast, entirely foreign to the Roman\ngravity, more especially in an address to the emperor of the world.\nMr. Pope, perceiving the absurdity of the common interpretation, seems\nto have read the lines _interrogatively_; which though it saves the\nsense, and suits the purpose of the English poet very well, yet neither\nagrees with the language nor serious air of the original. The case, I\nbelieve, was this. The genius of epistolary writing demands, that the\nsubject-matter be not abruptly delivered, or hastily obtruded on the\nperson addressed; but, as the law of decorum prescribes (for the rule\nholds in _writing_, as in _conversation_) be gradually and respectfully\nintroduced to him. This obtains more particularly in applications to\nthe _great_, and on important subjects. But, now, the poet, being to\naddress his prince on a point of no small delicacy, and on which he\nforesaw he should have occasion to hold him pretty long, prudently\ncontrives to get, as soon as possible, into his subject; and, to that\nend, hath the art to convert the very transgression of this rule into\nthe justest and most beautiful compliment.\n\nThat cautious preparation, which is ordinarily requisite in our\napproaches to _greatness_, had been, the poet observes, in the present\ncase, highly unseasonable, as the business and interests of the empire\nmust, in the mean time, have stood still and been suspended. By\n_sermone_ then we are to understand, not the _body_ of the epistle,\nbut the proeme or _introduction_ only. The _body_, as of public\nconcern, might be allowed to engage, at full length, the emperor\u2019s\nattention. But the _introduction_, consisting of _ceremonial_ only,\nthe _common good_ required him to shorten as much as possible. It\nwas no time for using an insignificant preamble, or, in our English\nphrase, of making _long speeches_. The reason, too, is founded, not\nmerely in the elevated rank of the emperor, but in the peculiar\ndiligence and sollicitude, with which, history tells us, he endeavoured\nto promote, by various ways, the interests of his country. So that\nthe compliment is as _just_, as it is _polite_. It may be further\nobserved, that _sermo_ is used in Horace, to signify the ordinary style\nof conversation [See Sat. i. 3, 65, and iv. 42.] and therefore not\nimproperly denotes the familiarity of the epistolary address, which, in\nits easy expression, so nearly approaches to it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n13. URIT ENIM FULGORE SUO, QUI PRAEGRAVAT ARTES INFRA SE POSITAS:\nEXTINCTUS AMABITUR IDEM.] The poet, we may suppose, spoke this from\nexperience. And so might _another_ of later date when he complained:\n\n    Unhappy Wit, like most mistaken things,\n    Attones not for that envy which it brings.\n                  _Essay on Crit._ v. 494.\n\nUnless it be thought, that, as this was said by him very early in life,\nit might rather pass for a prediction of his future fortunes. Be this\nas it will, the sufferings, which _unhappy wit_ is conceived to bring\non itself from the _envy_ it excites, are, I am apt to think, somewhat\naggravated; at least if one may judge from the effects it had on this\n_Complainant_. That which would be likely to afflict him most, was\nthe _envy_ of his friends. But the generosity of these deserves to be\nrecorded. The _wits_ took no offence at his fame, till they found\nit eclipse their _own_: And his _Philosopher and Guide_, \u2019tis well\nknown, stuck close to him, till another and brighter star had gotten\nthe ascendant. Or supposing there might be some malice in the case,\nit is plain there was little mischief. And for this little the poet\u2019s\ncreed provides an ample recompence. EXTINCTUS AMABITUR IDEM: not, we\nmay be sure, by _those_ he most improved, enlightened, and obliged;\nbut by late impartial posterity; and by ONE at least of his surviving\nfriends; who generously took upon him the patronage of his fame, and\nwho inherits his genius and his virtues.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n14. EXTINCTUS AMABITUR IDEM.] _Envy_, says a discerning ancient,\n_is the vice of those, who are too weak to contend, and too proud\nto submit_: _vitium eorum, qui nec cedere volunt, nec possunt\ncontendere_[33]. Which, while it sufficiently exposes the folly\nand malignity of this hateful passion, secures the honour of human\nnature; as implying at the same time, that its worst corruptions are\nnot without a mixture of generosity in them. For this false pride\nin _refusing to submit_, though absurd and mischievous enough, when\nunsupported by all _ability to contend_, yet discovers such a sense of\nsuperior excellence, as shews, how difficult it is for human nature\nto divest itself of all virtue. Accordingly, when the too powerful\n_splendor_ is withdrawn, our natural veneration of it takes place:\n_Extinctus amabitur idem._ This is the true exposition of the poet\u2019s\nsentiment; which therefore appears just the reverse of what his French\ninterpreter would fix upon him. \u201cLa justice, que nous rendons aux\ngrands hommes apr\u00e8s leur mort, ne vient pas de l\u2019AMOUR, que nous avons\npour leur _vertu_, mais de la HAINE, dont notre c\u0153ur est rempli pour\nceux, qui ont pris leur PLACE.\u201d An observation, which only becomes the\nmisanthropy of an old cynic virtue, or the selfishness of a modern\nsystem of ethics.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n15. PRAESENTI TIBI MATUROS, &c. to v. 18.] We are not to wonder at\nthis and the like extravagances of adulation in the Augustan poets.\nThey had ample authority for what they did of this sort. We know, that\naltars were erected to the Emperor by the command of the Senate; and\nthat he was publicly invoked, as an established, tutelary divinity. But\nthe seeds of the corruption had been sown much earlier. For we find it\nsprung up, or rather (as of all the ill weeds, which the teeming soil\nof human depravity throws forth, none is more thriving and grows faster\nthan this of _flattery_) flourishing at its height, in the tyranny of\nJ. CAESAR. Balbus, in a letter to Cicero [Ep. ad Att. l. ix.] _Swears\nby the health and safety of Caesar_: _it\u00e0, incolumi Caesare, moriar_.\nAnd Dio tells us [L. xliv.] that it was, by the express injunction\nof the Senate, decreed, even in Caesar\u2019s life-time, that the Romans\nshould bind themselves by this oath. The Senate also, as we learn from\nthe same writer, [L. xliii.] upon receiving the news of his defeat\nof Pompey\u2019s sons, caused his statue to be set up, in the temple of\nRomulus, with this inscription, DEO INVICTO[34].\n\n\u2019Tis true, these and still greater honours had been long paid to the\nRoman governors in their provinces, by the _abject, slavish Asiatics_.\nAnd this, no doubt, facilitated the admission of such idolatries into\nthe capital[35]. But that a people, from the highest notions of an\nindependent republican equality, could so soon be brought to this\nprostrate adoration of their first _Lord_, is perfectly amazing! In\nthis, they shewed themselves ripe for servitude. Nothing could keep\nthem out of the hands of a master. And one can scarcely read such\naccounts, as these, without condemning the vain efforts of dying\npatriotism, which laboured so fruitlesly, may one not almost say,\nso weakly? to protract the liberty of such a people, Who can, after\nthis, wonder at the incense, offered up by a few court-poets? The\nadulation of Virgil, which has given so much offence, and of Horace,\nwho kept pace with him, was, we see, but the authorized language of the\ntimes; presented indeed with address, but without the heightenings and\nprivileged licence of their profession. For, to their credit, it must\nbe owned, that, though in the office of _poets_, they were to comply\nwith the popular voice, and echo it back to the ears of sovereignty;\nyet, as _men_, they had too much good sense, and too scrupulous a\nregard to the dignity of their characters, to exaggerate and go beyond\nit.\n\nIt should, in all reason, surprize and disgust us still more, that\nmodern writers have not always shewn themselves so discrete. The grave\nand learned LIPSIUS was not ashamed, even without the convenient\npretext of popular flattery, or poetic _coloring_, in so many words,\nto make a God of his patron: who though neither King, nor Pope, was\nyet the next best material for this manufacture, an Archbishop. For,\nthough the critic knew, that it was _not every wood, that will make a\nMercury_, yet no body would dispute the fitness of that, which grew\nso near the altar. In plain words, I am speaking of an Archbishop of\nMECHLIN, whom, after a deal of fulsome compliment (which was the vice\nof the man) he exalts at last, with a pagan complaisance, into the\norder of Deities. \u201cAd haec, says he, erga omnes humanitas et facilitas\nme faciunt, ut omnes te non tanqu\u00e0m hominem aliquem de nostro coetu,\nsed tanquam DEUM QUENDAM DE COELO DELAPSUM INTUEANTUR ET ADMIRENTUR.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n16. JURANDASQUE TUUM PER NUMEN PONIMUS ARAS.] On this idea of the\nAPOTHEOSIS, which was the usual mode of flattery in the Augustan\nage, but, as having the countenance of public authority, sometimes\ninartificially enough employed, Virgil hath projected one of the\nnoblest allegories in ancient poetry, and at the same time hath given\nto it all the force of _just_ compliment, the _occasion_ itself\nallowed. _Each_ of these excellencies was to be expected from his\ntalents. For, as his genius led him to the _sublime_; to his exquisite\njudgment would instruct him to palliate this bold fiction, and qualify,\nas much as possible, the shocking adulation, implied in it. So singular\na beauty deserves to be shewn at large.\n\nThe _third_ GEORGIC sets out with an apology for the low and simple\nargument of that work, which, yet, the poet esteemed, for its novelty,\npreferable to the sublimer, but trite, themes of the Greek writers. Not\nbut he intended, on some future occasion, to adorn a nobler subject.\nThis was the great plan of the Aene\u00efs, which he now _prefigures_ and\nunfolds at large. For, taking advantage of the noblest privilege of\nhis _art_, he breaks away, in a fit of _prophetic_ enthusiasm, to\nforetel his successes in this projected enterprize, and, under the\nimagery of the ancient _triumph_, which comprehends, or suggests to\nthe imagination, whatever is most august in human affairs, to delineate\nthe future glories of this ambitious design. The whole conception,\nas we shall see, is of the utmost grandeur and magnificence; though,\naccording to the usual management of the poet (which, as not being\napprehended by his critics, hath furnished occasion, even to the best\nof them, to charge him with a want of the _sublime_) he hath contrived\nto soften and _familiarize_ its appearance to the reader, by the artful\nmanner, in which it is introduced. It stands thus:\n\n            _tentanda via est, qua me quoque possim\n    Tollere humo_, VICTORQUE _vir\u00fbm volitare per ora_.\n\nThis idea of _victory_, thus casually dropped, he makes the basis\nof his imagery; which, by means of this gradual preparation, offers\nitself easily to the apprehension, though it thereby loses, as the poet\ndesigned it should, much of that broad _glare_, in which writers of\nless judgment love to shew their ideas, as tending to set the common\nreader to a gaze. The allegory then proceeds:\n\n    _Primus ego patriam mecum (modo vita supersit)\n    Aonio rediens deducam vertice Musas_.\n\nThe projected conquest was no less than that of all the _Grecian Muses_\nat once; whom, to carry on the decorum of the allegory, he threatens,\n1. to force from their high and advantageous situation on the summit of\nthe _Aonian mount_; and, 2. bring _captive_ with him into Italy: the\n_former_ circumstance intimating to us the difficulty and danger of\nthe enterprize; and the _latter_, his complete execution of it.\n\nThe _palmy_, triumphal entry, which was usual to victors on their\nreturn from foreign successes, follows:\n\n    _Primus Idumaeas referam tibi, Mantua, palmas_.\n\nBut ancient conquerors did not hold it sufficient to reap this\ntransient fruit of their labours. They were ambitious to consecrate\ntheir glory to immortality, by a _temple_, or other public monument,\nwhich was to be built out of the spoils of the conquered cities or\ncountries. This the reader sees is suitable to the idea of the great\nwork proposed; which was, out of the old remains of Grecian art, to\ncompose a _new_ one, that should comprize the virtues of them all:\nas, in fact, the Aene\u00efd is known to unite in itself whatever is most\nexcellent, not in Homer only, but, universally, in the wits of Greece.\nThe everlasting monument of the _marble_ temple is then reared:\n\n    _Et viridi in campo templum de_ MARMORE _ponam_.\n\nAnd, because ancient superstition usually preferred, for these\npurposes, the banks of _rivers_ to other situations, therefore the\npoet, in beautiful allusion to the site of some of the most celebrated\npagan temples, builds _his_ on the MINCIUS. We see with what a\nscrupulous propriety the allusion is carried on.\n\n    _Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat_\n    MINCIUS, _et tenera praetexit arundine ripas_.\n\nNext, this temple was to be dedicated, as a monument of the victor\u2019s\n_piety_, as well as glory, to some propitious, tutelary deity, under\nwhose auspices the great adventure had been atchieved. The _dedication_\nis then made to the poet\u2019s _divinity_, Augustus:\n\n    _In medio mihi_ CAESAR _erit, templumque tenebit_.\n\nTEMPLUM TENEBIT. The expression is emphatical; as intimating to us, and\nprefiguring the secret purpose of the Aene\u00efs, which was, in the person\nof Aeneas, to shadow forth and consecrate the character of Augustus.\nHis divinity was to fill and _occupy_ that great work. And the ample\ncircuit of the epic plan was projected only, as a more awful enclosure\nof that august presence, which was to _inhabit_ and solemnize the vast\nround of this poetic building.\n\nAnd now the wonderful address of the poet\u2019s artifice appears. The mad\nservility of his country had _deified_ the emperor in good earnest;\nand his brother poets made no scruple to _worship_ in his temples, and\nto come before him with handfuls of _real_ incense, smoking from the\naltars. But the sobriety of Virgil\u2019s adoration was of another cast. He\nseizes this circumstance only to _embody_ a poetical fiction; which,\non the supposition of an actual _deification_, hath all the force of\ncompliment, which the _fact_ implies, and yet, as presented through\nthe chast veil of allegory, eludes the offence, which the _naked_\nrecital must needs have given to sober and reasonable men. Had the\nemperor\u2019s _popular_ divinity been flatly acknowledged, and adored,\nthe praise, even under Virgil\u2019s management, had been insufferable for\nits extravagance; and, without some support for his poetical _numen_\nto rest upon, the figure had been more forced and strained, than the\nrules of just writing allow. As it is, the historical truth of his\n_apotheosis_ authorizes and supports the _fiction_, and the fiction, in\nits turn, serves to refine and palliate the _history_.\n\nThe Aene\u00efs being, by the poet\u2019s improvement of this circumstance, thus\nnaturally predicted under the image of a _temple_, we may expect to\nfind a close and studied analogy betwixt them. The great, component\nparts of the _one_ will, no doubt, be made, very faithfully, to\nrepresent and adumbrate those of the _other_. This hath been executed\nwith great art and diligence.\n\n1. The _temple_, we observed, was erected on the banks of a river. This\nsite was not only proper, for the reason already mentioned, but also,\nfor the further convenience of instituting _public games_, the ordinary\nattendants of the _consecration_ of temples. These were generally,\nas in the case of the Olympic and others, celebrated on the banks of\nrivers.\n\n    _Illi victor ego, et Tyrio conspectus in ostro,\n    Centum quadrijugos agitabo ad flumina currus.\n    Cuncta mihi, Alpheum linquens lucosque Molorchi,\n    Cursibus et crudo decernet Graecia caestu._\n\nTo see the propriety of the _figure_ in this place, the reader needs\nonly be reminded of the _book of games_ in the Aene\u00efd, which was\npurposely introduced in honour of the Emperor, and not, as is commonly\nthought, for a mere trial of skill between the poet and his master. The\nemperor was passionately fond of these sports, and was even the author,\nor restorer, of _one_ of them. It is not to be doubted, that he alludes\nalso to the _quinquennial games_, actually celebrated, in honour of his\ntemples, through many parts of the empire. And this the poet undertakes\nin the _civil_ office of VICTOR.\n\n2. What follows is in the _religious_ office of PRIEST. For it is to\nbe noted, that, in assuming this double character, which the decorum\nof the solemnities, here recounted, prescribed, the poet has an eye to\nthe _political_ design of the Aene\u00efs, which was to do honour to Caesar,\nin either capacity of a _civil_ and _religious_ personage; both being\nessential to the idea of the PERFECT LEGISLATOR, whose office and\ncharacter (as an eminent critic hath lately shewn us[36]) it was his\npurpose, in this immortal work, to adorn and recommend. The account of\nhis _sacerdotal functions_ is delivered in these words:\n\n    _Ipse caput tonsae foliis ornatus olivae\n    Dona feram. Jam, nunc solemnes ducere pompas\n    Ad delubra juvat, caesosque videre juvencos;\n    Vel scena ut versis discedat frontibus, utque\n    Purpurea intexti tollant aulaea Britanni._\n\nThe imagery in this place cannot be understood, without reflecting on\nthe customary form and disposition of the pagan temples. DELUBRUM, or\nDELUBRA, for either _number_ is used indifferently, denotes the shrine,\nor sanctuary, wherein the statue of the presiding God was placed. This\nwas in the center of the building. Exactly before the _delubrum_, and\nat no great distance from it, was the ALTAR. Further, the shrine, or\n_delubrum_, was inclosed and shut up on all sides by _doors_ of curious\ncarved-work, and ductile _veils_, embellished by the rich embroidery\nof _flowers_, _animals_, or _human figures_. This being observed, the\nprogress of the imagery before us will be this. The procession _ad\ndelubra_, or shrine: the sacrifice on the _altars_, erected before it;\nand lastly, the painted, or rather wrought _scenery_ of the purple\n_veils_, inclosing the image, which were ornamented, and seemed to be\nsustained or held up by the figures of _inwoven Britons_. The meaning\nof all which, is, that the poet would proceed to the celebration of\nCaesar\u2019s praise in all the gradual, solemn preparation of poetic pomp:\nthat he would render the most grateful _offerings_ to his divinity in\nthose occasional _episodes_, which he should consecrate to his more\nimmediate honour: and, finally, that he would provide the richest\ntexture of his fancy, for a covering to that admired _image_ of his\nvirtues, which was to make the sovereign pride and glory of his poem.\nThe choice of the _inwoven Britons_, for the support of his _veil_, is\nwell accounted for by those, who tell us, that Augustus was proud to\nhave a number of these to serve about him in quality of slaves.\n\nThe ornaments of the DOORS of this _delubrum_, on which the sculptor\nused to lavish all the riches of his _art_, are next delineated.\n\n    _In foribus pugnam ex auro solidoque elephanto\n    Gangaridum faciam, victorisque arma Quirini;\n    Atque hic undantem bello, magnumque fluentem\n    Nilum, ac navali surgentes aere columnas.\n    Addam urbes Asiae domitas, pulsumque Niphatem,\n    Fidentemque fug\u00e2 Parthum versisque sagittis;\n    Et duo rapta manu diverso ex hoste trophaea,\n    Bisque triumphatas utroque ex littore gentes._\n\nHere the covering of the _figure_ is too thin to hide the _literal_\nmeaning from the commonest reader, who sees, that the several triumphs\nof Caesar, here recorded in _sculpture_, are those, which the poet\nhath taken most pains to _finish_, and hath occasionally inserted, as\nit were, in _miniature_, in several places of his _poem_. Let him only\nturn to the prophetic speech of Anchises\u2019 shade in the VI^{th}, and to\nthe description of the shield in the VIII^{th} book.\n\nHitherto we have contemplated the decorations of the _shrine_, i. e.\nsuch as bear a more direct and immediate reference to the honour of\nCaesar. We are now presented with a view of the remoter, surrounding\nornaments of the temple. These are the illustrious Trojan chiefs,\nwhose story was to furnish the materials, or, more properly, to form\nthe body and _case_, as it were, of his august structure. They are\nalso connected with the idol deity of the place by the closest ties\nof relationship, the Julian family affecting to derive its pedigree\nfrom this proud original. The poet then, in his arrangement of these\nadditional figures, with admirable judgment, completes and rounds the\nentire fiction.\n\n    _Stabunt et Parii lapides, spirantia signa,\n    Assaraci proles, demissaeque ab Jove gentis\n    Nomina: Trosque parens et Trojae Cynthius auctor._\n\nNothing now remains but for _fame_ to eternize the glories of what\nthe great architect had, at the expence of so much art and labour,\ncompleted; which is predicted in the highest sublime of ancient poetry,\nunder the idea of ENVY, whom the poet personalizes, shuddering at the\nview of such transcendent perfection; and tasting, beforehand, the\npains of a remediless vexation, strongly pictured in the image of the\nworst, infernal tortures.\n\n    INVIDIA _infelix furias amnemque severum\n    Cocyti metuet, tortosque Ixionis angues,\n    Immanemque rotam, et non exuperabile saxum_.\n\nThus have I presumed, but with a religious awe, to inspect and declare\nthe mysteries of this ideal temple. The attempt after all might have\nbeen censured, as prophane, if the great _Mystagogue_ himself, or some\nbody for him[37], had not given us the undoubted key to it. Under this\nencouragement I could not withstand the temptation of disclosing thus\nmuch of one of the noblest fictions of antiquity; and the rather, as\nthe propriety of allegoric composition, which made the distinguished\npride of ancient poetry, seems but little known or attended to by the\n_modern_ professors of this fine art.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n17. NIL ORITURUM ALIAS, NIL ORTUM TALE FATENTES.] _Il n\u2019est\nimpossible_, says M. DE BALZAC, in that puffed, declamatory rhapsody,\nintitled, LE PRINCE, _de resister au mouvement interieur, qui me\npousse. Je ne s\u00e7aurois m\u2019empecher de parler du_ ROY, _et de sa vertu;\nde crier \u00e0 tous les princes, que c\u2019est l\u2019exemple, qu\u2019ils doivent\nsuivre_; DE DEMANDER A TOUS LES PEUPLES, ET A TOUS LES AGES, S\u2019ILS ONT\nJAMAIS RIEN VEU DE SEMBLABLE. This was spoken of a king of France,\nwho, it will be owned, had his virtues. But they were the virtues of\nthe _man_, and not of the _Prince_. This, however, was a distinction,\nwhich the eloquent encomiast was not aware of, or, to speak more truly,\nhis business required him to overlook. For the whole elogy is worth\nperusing, as it affords a striking proof of the uniform genius of\nflattery, which, alike under all circumstances, and indifferent to all\ncharacters, can hold the same language of the weakest, as the ablest of\nprinces, of LOUIS LE JUSTE, and CAESAR OCTAVIANUS AUGUSTUS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n23. SIC FAUTOR VETERUM, &c. to v. 28.] The folly, here satyrized,\nis common enough in all countries, and extends to all arts. It was\njust the same preposterous affectation of venerating antiquity, which\nput the connoisseurs in _painting_, under the emperors, on crying up\nthe simple and rude sketches of AGLAOPHON and POLYGNOTUS, above the\nexquisite and finished pictures of PARRHASIUS and ZEUXIS. The account\nis given by Quintilian, who in his censure of this absurdity, points\nto the undoubted source of it. His words are these: \u201cPrimi, quorum\nquidem opera non vetustatis mod\u00f2 grati\u00e2 visenda sunt, clari pictores\nfuisse dicuntur Polygnotus et Aglaophon; quorum simplex color tam sui\nstudiosos adhuc habet, ut illa prop\u00e8 rudia ac velut futurae mox artis\nprimordia, maximis, qui post eos extiterunt, auctoribus praeferantur,\nPROPRIO QUODAM INTELLIGENDI (ut mea fert opinio) AMBITU.\u201d [L. xii. c.\n10.] The lover of painting must be the more surprized at this strange\n_preference_, when he is told, that Aglaophon, at least, had the use\nof only _one single colour_: whereas Parrhasius and Zeuxis, who are\namongst the _maximi autores_, here glanced at, not only employed\n_different colours_, but were exceedingly eminent, the one of them for\n_correct drawing, and the delicacy of his outline_; the _other_, for\nhis _invention_ of that great secret of the _chiaro oscuro_. \u201cPost\nZeuxis et Parrhasius: quorum prior LUMINUM UMBRARUMQUE INVENISSE\nRATIONEM, secundus, EXAMINASSE SUBTILIUS LINEAS DICITUR.\u201d [Ibid.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n28. SI, QUIA GRAIORUM SUNT ANTIQUISSIMA QUAEQUE SCRIPTA vel OPTIMA,\n&c.] The common interpretation of this place supposes the poet to\nadmit _the most ancient of the Greek writings to be the best_. Which\nwere even contrary to all experience and common sense, and is directly\nconfuted by the history of the Greek learning. What he allows is, the\n_superiority_ of the oldest Greek writings _extant_; which is a very\ndifferent thing. The turn of his argument confines us to this sense.\nFor he would shew the folly of concluding the same of the _old Roman_\nwriters, on their _first_ rude attempts to copy the finished models of\nGreece, as of the _old Greek writers_ themselves, who were furnished\nwith the means of producing those _models_ by long discipline and\ncultivation. This appears, certainly, from what follows:\n\n    _Venimus ad summum fortunae: pingimus atque\n    Psallimus et luctamur Achivis doctius unctis_.\n\nThe design of which hath been entirely overlooked. For it hath been\ntaken only for a _general expression_ of falsehood and absurdity, of\njust the same import, as the proverbial line,\n\n    _Nil intra est ole\u00e2, nil extra est in nuce duri_.\n\nWhereas it was _designedly_ pitched upon to convey a _particular\nillustration_ of the very absurdity in question, and to shew the\nmaintainers of it, from the nature of things, how senseless their\nposition was. It is to this purpose: \u201cAs well it may be pretended,\nthat we _Romans_ surpass the _Greeks_ in the arts of _painting, music,\nand the exercises of the palaestra_, which yet it is confessed, we do\nnot, as that our _old_ writers surpass the _modern_. The absurdity,\nin either case, is the same. For, as the Greeks, who had long devoted\nthemselves, with great and continued application, to the practice of\nthese arts (which is the force of the epithet UNCTI, here given them)\nmust, for that reason, carry the prize from the Romans, who have taken\nvery little pains about them; so, the modern Romans, who have for a\nlong time been studying the _arts of poetry and composition_, must\nneeds excel the old Roman writers, who had little or no acquaintance\nwith those arts, and had been trained, by no previous discipline, to\nthe exercise of them.\u201d\n\nThe conciseness of the expression made it necessary to open the poet\u2019s\nsense at large. We now see, that his intention, in these two lines, was\nto expose, in the way of _argumentative illustration_, the ground of\nthat absurdity, which the preceding verses had represented as, at first\nsight, so shocking to _common sense_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n33. UNCTIS.] This is by no means a general unmeaning epithet: but is\nbeautifully chosen to express the unwearied _assiduity_ of the Greek\nartists. For the practice of _anointing_ being essential to their\nagonistic trials, the poet elegantly puts the attending _circumstance_\nfor the _thing_ itself. And so, in speaking of them, as UNCTI, he does\nthe same, as if he had called them \u201cthe industrious, or _exercising_\nGreeks;\u201d which was the very idea his argument required him to suggest\nto us.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n43.\u2014HONESTE.] Expressing the _credit_ such a piece was held in, as had\nthe fortune to be ranked _inter veteres_, agreeably to what he said\nabove\u2014PERFECTOS _veteresque_ v. 37\u2014and\u2014_vetus atque_ PROBUS v. 39:\nwhich affords a fresh presumption in favour of Dr. Bentley\u2019s conjecture\non v. 41, where, instead of _veteres poetas_, he would read,\n\n    _Inter quos referendus erit? veteresne_ PROBOSQUE,\n    _An quos &c._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n54. ADEO SANCTUM EST VETUS OMNE POEMA.] The reader is not to suppose,\nthat Horace, in this ridicule of the foolish adorers of antiquity,\nintended any contempt of the old Roman poets, who, as the old writers\nin every country, abound in strong sense, vigorous expression, and the\ntruest representation of life and manners. His quarrel is only with the\ncritic:\n\n    _Qui redit in fastos et virtutem aestimat annis._\n\nAn affectation, which for its _folly_, if it had not too apparently\nsprung from a worse principle, deserved to be laughed at.\n\nFor the rest, he every where discovers a candid and just esteem of\ntheir earlier writers; as may be seen from many places in this very\nepistle; but more especially from that severe censure in 1 S. x. 17.\n(which hath more of acrimony in it, than he usually allows to his\nsatyr) when, in speaking of the writers of the old comedy, he adds,\n\n        _Quos neque pulcher\n    Hermogenes unquam legit, neque simius iste\n    Nil praeter Calvum et doctus cantare Catullum._\n\nWith all his zeal for correct writing, he was not, we see, of the\nhumour of that delicate sort, who are for burning their old poets;\nand, to be well with women and court critics, confine their reading\nand admiration to the innocent sing-song of some soft and fashionable\nrhymer, whose utter insipidity is a thousand times more insufferable,\nthan any barbarism.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n56. PACUVIUS DOCTI FAMAM SENIS, ACCIUS ALTI:] The epithet _doctus_,\nhere applied to the tragic poet, _Pacuvius_, is, I believe, sometimes\nmisunderstood, though the opposition to _altus_ clearly determines the\nsense. For, as this last word expresses the _sublime_ of sentiment and\nexpression, which comes from _nature_, so the former word must needs be\ninterpreted of that _exactness_ in both, or at least of that _skill_\nin the conduct of the scene (the proper _learning_ of a dramatic poet)\nwhich is the result of _art_.\n\nThe Latin word _doctus_ is indeed somewhat ambiguous: but we are\nchiefly misled by the English word, _learned_, by which we translate\nit, and by which, in general use, is meant, rather extensive reading,\nand what we call _erudition_, than a profound skill in the rules and\nprinciples of any art. But this last is frequently the sense of the\nLatin term _doctus_, as we may see from its application, in the best\nclassic writers, to other, besides the literary professions. Thus, to\nomit other instances, we find it applied very often in Horace himself.\nIt is applied to a _singing-girl_\u2014_doctae_ psallere Chiae\u2014in one of\nhis Odes, l. iv. 13. It is applied to several _mechanic arts_ in this\nepistle\u2014\u201c_doctius_ Achivis pingimus atque psallimus et luctamur:\u201d It\nis even applied, _absolutely_, to the player Roscius\u2014_doctus_ Roscius,\nin v. 82, where his skill in _acting_ could only be intended by it. It\nis, also, in this sense, that he calls his imitator, _doctus_, i. e.\nskilled and knowing in his art, A. P. v. 319. Nay, it is precisely in\nthis sense that Quinctilian uses the word, when he characterizes this\nvery Pacuvius\u2014_Pacuvium videri_ doctiorem, _qui esse docti affectant,\nvolunt_ [l. x. c. 1.] i. e. _they, who affect to be thought knowing\nin the rules of dramatic writing, give this praise to Pacuvius_.\nThe expression is so put, as if Quinctilian intended a censure of\nthese critics; because this pretence to dramatic art, and the strict\nimitation of the Greek poets, was grown, in his time, and long before\nit, into a degree of pedantry and _affectation_; no other merit but\nthis of _docti_, being of any significancy, in their account. There is\nno reason to think that Quinctilian meant to insinuate the poet\u2019s want\nof this merit, or his own contempt of it: though he might think, and\nwith reason, that too much stress had been laid upon it by some men.\n\nIt is in the same manner that one of our own poets has been\ncharacterized; and the application of this term to him will shew the\nforce of it, still more clearly.\n\nIn Mr. Pope\u2019s fine imitation of this epistle, are these lines\u2014\n\n    In all debates, where critics bear a part,\n    Not one but nods, and talks of Jonson\u2019s _art_\u2014\n\nOne sees, then, how Mr. Pope understood the _docti_, of Horace. But our\nMilton applies the word _learned_ itself, and in the Latin sense of it,\nto Jonson\u2014\n\n    When Jonson\u2019s _learned_ sock is on\u2014\n\nFor what is this _learning_? Indisputably, his _dramatic learning_,\nhis skill in the scene, and his observance of the ancient rules and\npractice. For, though Jonson was indeed _learned_, in every sense, it\nis the learning of his profession, as a comic artist, for which he is\nhere celebrated.\n\nThe Latin substantive, _doctrina_, is used with the same latitude, as\nthe adjective, _doctus_. It sometimes signifies the _peculiar sort_\nof learning, under consideration; though sometimes again it signifies\n_learning_, or erudition, at large. It is used in the _former_\nsense by Cicero, when he observes of the satires of Lucilius, that\nthey were remarkable for their wit and pleasantry, not for their\n_learning_\u2014_doctrina_ mediocris. So that there is no contradiction\nin this judgment, as is commonly thought, to that of Quinctilian, who\ndeclares roundly\u2014_eruditio_ in eo mira\u2014For, though _doctrina_ and\n_eruditio_ be sometimes convertible terms, they are not so here. The\n_learning_ Cicero speaks of in Lucilius, as being but _moderate_, is\nhis learning, or skill in the art of writing and composition.\u2014That\nthis was the whole purport of Cicero\u2019s observation, any one may see by\nturning to the place where it occurs, in the proeme to his first book\nDE FINIBUS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n59. VINCERE CAECILIUS GRAVITATE, TERENTIUS ARTE.] It should be\nobserved, that the judgment, here passed [from v. 55 to 60] on the most\ncelebrated Roman writers, being only a representation of the _popular_\nopinion, not of the poet\u2019s _own_, the commendations, given to them, are\ndeserved, or otherwise, just as it chances.\n\n    _Interdum volgus rectum videt, est ubi peccat._\n\nTo give an instance of this in the line before us.\n\nA critic of unquestioned authority acquaints us, wherein the\n_real distinct merit_ of these two dramatic writers consists. \u201cIn\nARGUMENTIS, Caecilius palmam poscit; in ETHESIN, TERENTIUS.\u201d [Varro.]\nNow by _gravitate_, as applied to Caecilius, we may properly enough\nunderstand the _grave and affecting cast_ of his comedy; which is\nfurther confirmed by what the same critic elsewhere observes of him.\n\u201cPATHE Trabea, Attilius, et CAECILIUS facile moverunt.\u201d But Terence\u2019s\ncharacteristic of _painting the manners_, which is, plainly, the right\ninterpretation of Varro\u2019s ETHESIN, is not so significantly expressed\nby the attribute _arte_, here given to him. The word indeed is of\nlarge and general import, and may admit of various senses; but being\nhere applied to a _dramatic_ writer, it most naturally and properly\ndenotes the _peculiar_ art of his profession, that is, _the artificial\ncontexture of the plot_. And this I doubt not was the very praise, the\ntown-critics of Horace\u2019s time intended to bestow on this poet. The\nmatter is easily explained.\n\nThe simplicity and exact unity of the plots in the Greek comedies would\nbe, of course, uninteresting to a people, not thoroughly instructed\nin the genuin beauties of the drama. They had too thin a contexture\nto satisfy the gross and lumpish taste of a Roman auditory. The Latin\npoets, therefore, bethought themselves of combining two stories into\none. And this, which is what we call the _double plot_, affording the\nopportunity of more incidents, and a greater variety of _action_,\nwas perfectly suited to their apprehensions. But, of all the Latin\nComedians, _Terence_ appears to have practised this secret most\nassiduously: at least, as may be concluded from what remains of them.\n_Plautus_ hath very frequently _single plots_, which he was enabled to\nsupport by, what was natural to him, a force of buffoon pleasantry.\n_Terence_, whose genius lay another way, or whose taste was abhorrent\nfrom such ribaldry, had recourse to the other expedient of _double\nplots_. And this, I suppose, is what gained him the popular reputation\nof being the most _artificial_ writer for the stage. The HECYRA is the\nonly one of his comedies, of the true ancient cast. And we know how it\ncame off in the representation. That ill-success and the simplicity\nof its conduct have continued to draw upon it the same unfavourable\ntreatment from the critics, to this day; who constantly speak of\nit, as much inferior to the rest; whereas, for the genuin beauty of\ndramatic design, and the observance, after the ancient Greek manner,\nof the nice dependency and coherence of the _fable_, throughout, it\nis, indisputably, to every reader of true taste, the most masterly and\nexquisite of the whole collection.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n63. INTERDUM VOLGUS RECTUM VIDET: EST UBI PECCAT.] The capricious\nlevity of _popular opinion_ hath been noted even to a proverb. And\nyet it is this, which, after all, _fixes_ the fate of authors. This\nseemingly odd phaenomenon I would thus account for.\n\nWhat is usually complimented with the high and reverend appellation\nof _public judgment_ is, in any single instance, but the repetition\nor echo, for the most part eagerly catched and strongly reverberated\non all sides, of a few leading voices, which have happened to gain\nthe confidence, and so direct the _cry_ of the public. But (as, in\nfact, it too often falls out) this prerogative of the _few_ may be\nabused to the prejudice of the _many_. The partialities of friendship,\nthe fashionableness of the writer, his compliance with the reigning\ntaste, the lucky concurrence of time and opportunity, the cabal of\na party, nay, the very freaks of whim and caprice, these, or any of\nthem, as occasion serves, can support the dullest, as the opposite\ndisadvantages can depress the noblest performance; and give the\ncurrency or neglect to _either_, far beyond what the genuin character\nof each demands. Hence the _public voice_, which is but the aggregate\nof these corrupt judgments, infinitely multiplied, is, with the wise,\nat such a juncture, deservedly of little esteem. Yet, in a succession\nof such _judgments_, delivered at different times and by different\nsets or juntos of these sovereign arbiters of the fate of authors, the\npublic opinion naturally gets clear of these accidental corruptions.\nEvery fresh succession shakes off some; till, by degrees, the work is\nseen in its proper form, unsupported of every other recommendation,\nthan what its native inherent excellence bestows upon it. Then, and not\ntill then, _the voice of the people_ becomes sacred; after which it\nsoon advances into _divinity_, before which all ages must fall down and\nworship. For now Reason alone, without her corrupt assessors, takes the\nchair. And her sentence, when once promulgated and authorized by the\ngeneral voice, fixes the unalterable doom of authors. \u039f\u039b\u03a9\u03a3 \u039a\u0391\u039b\u0391 \u039d\u039f\u039c\u0399\u0396\u0395\n\u03a5\u03a8\u0397 \u039a\u0391\u0399 \u0391\u039b\u0397\u0398\u0399\u039d\u0391, \u03a4\u0391 \u0394\u0399\u0391\u03a0\u0391\u039d\u03a4\u039f\u03a3 \u0391\u03a1\u0395\u03a3\u039a\u039f\u039d\u03a4\u0391 \u039a\u0391\u0399 \u03a0\u0391\u03a3\u0399\u039d [Longinus, \u00a7 vii.]\nAnd the reason follows, agreeably to the account here given. \u1f4d\u03c4\u03b1\u03bd \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1\n\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03c0\u1f78 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03c6\u03cc\u03c1\u03c9\u03bd \u0395\u03a0\u0399\u03a4\u0397\u0394\u0395\u03a5\u039c\u0391\u03a4\u03a9\u039d, \u0392\u0399\u03a9\u039d, \u0396\u0397\u039b\u03a9\u039d, \u0397\u039b\u0399\u039a\u0399\u03a9\u039d, \u03bb\u03cc\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd, \u1f15\u03bd \u03c4\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76\n\u03c4\u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f05\u03bc\u03b1 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f05\u03c0\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9 \u03b4\u03bf\u03ba\u1fc7, \u03c4\u03cc\u03b8\u2019 \u1f21 \u1f10\u03be \u1f00\u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c6\u03ce\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u1f61\u03c2 \u03ba\u03c1\u03af\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2\n\u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c3\u03c5\u03b3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03ac\u03b8\u03b5\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f74\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c4\u1ff7 \u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u1ff3 \u03a0\u0399\u03a3\u03a4\u0399\u039d \u0399\u03a3\u03a7\u03a5\u03a1\u0391\u039d \u039b\u0391\u039c\u0392\u0391\u039d\u0395\u0399 \u039a\u0391\u0399\n\u0391\u039d\u0391\u039c\u03a6\u0399\u039b\u0395\u039a\u03a4\u039f\u039d. [Ibid.]\n\nThis is the true account of _popular fame_, which, while it well\nexplains the ground of the poet\u2019s aphorism, suggests an obvious remark,\nbut very mortifying to every candidate of literary glory. It is, that,\nwhether he succeeds in his endeavours after public applause, or not,\n_fame_ is equally out of his reach, and, as the moral poet teaches, _a\nthing beyond him, before his death_, on either supposition. For at the\nvery time, that this bewitching music is sounding in his ears, he can\nnever be sure, if, instead of the divine consentient harmony of a just\npraise, it be not only the discordant din and clamour of ignorance or\nprepossession.\n\nIf there be any exception to this melancholy truth, it must be in the\ncase of some uncommon genius, whose superior power breaks through all\nimpediments in his road to fame, and forces applause even from those\nvery prejudices, that would obstruct his career to it. It was the rare\nfelicity of the poet, just mentioned, to receive, in his life-time,\nthis sure and pleasing augury of immortality.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n88. INGENIIS NON ILLE FAVET, &c.] MALHERBE was to the French, pretty\nmuch what HORACE had been to the Latin, poetry. These great writers\nhad, each of them, rescued the lyric muse of their country out of the\nrude, ungracious hands of their old poets. And, as their talents of\na _good ear_, _elegant judgment_, and _correct expression_, were the\nsame, they presented her to the public in all the air and grace, and\nyet _severity_, of beauty, of which her form was susceptible. Their\nmerits and pretensions being thus far resembling, the reader may not\nbe incurious to know the fate and fortune of _each_. _Horace_ hath\nvery frankly told us, what befel himself from the malevolent and low\npassions of his countrymen. _Malherbe_ did not come off, with the\nwits and critics of his time, much better; as we learn from a learned\nperson, who hath very warmly recommended his writings to the public.\nSpeaking of the envy, which pursued him in his _prose-works_, but,\nsays he, \u201cComme il faisoit une particuliere profession de la _poesie_,\nc\u2019est en cette qualit\u00e9 qu\u2019il a de plus severes censeurs, et receu des\ninjustices plus signal\u00e9es. Mais il me semble que je fermerai la bouche\n\u00e0 ceux, que le blament, quand je leur aurai monstr\u00e9, que sa fa\u00e7on\nd\u2019escrire est excellente, quoiqu\u2019elle s\u2019eloigne un peu de celle des\nNOS ANCIENS POETES, QU\u2019ILS LOUENT PLUSTOT PAR UN DEGOUST DES CHOSES\nPRESENTES, QUE PAR LES SENTIMENTS D\u2019UNE VERITABLE ESTIME.\u201d [DISC. DE M.\nGODEAU SUR LES OEUVRES DE M. MALHERBE.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n97. SUSPENDIT MENTEM VULTUMQUE.] The expression hath great elegance,\nand is not liable to the imputation of _harsh, or improper\nconstruction_. For _suspendit_ is not taken, with regard either\nto _mentem_ or _vultum_, in its _literal_, but _figurative_,\nsignification; and, thus, it becomes, in one and the _same_ sense,\napplicable to _both_.\n\nOtherwise, this way of coupling _two substantives_ to a _verb_, which\ndoes not, in strict grammatical usage, _govern_ both; or, if it doth,\nmust needs be construed in different senses; hath given just offence to\nthe best critics.\n\nMr. Pope censures a passage of this kind, in the _Iliad_, with\nseverity; and thinks _the taste of the ancients was, in general, too\ngood for those fooleries_[38].\n\nMr. Addison is perfectly of the same mind, as appears from his\ncriticism on that line in Ovid, _Consiliis, non curribus utere\nnostris_, \u201cThis way of joining, says he, two such different ideas as\nchariot and counsel to the same verb, is mightily used by _Ovid_, but\nis a very low kind of wit, and has always in it a mixture of _pun_;\nbecause the verb must be taken in a different sense, when it is\njoined with one of the things, from what it has in conjunction with\nthe other. Thus in the end of this story he tells you, that Jupiter\nflung a thunderbolt at Pha\u00ebton; _pariterque animaque rotisque expulit\naurigam_: where he makes a forced piece of _Latin_ (_anim\u00e2 expulit\naurigam_) that he may couple the soul and the wheels to the same\nverb[39].\u201d\n\nThese, the reader will think, are pretty good authorities. For, in\nmatters of _taste_, I know of none, that more deserve to be regarded.\nThe _mere verbal critic_, one would think, should be cautious, how\nhe opposed himself to them. And yet a very learned Dutchman, who has\ntaken great pains in _elucidating_ an old Greek love-story, which, with\nits more passionate admirers, may, perhaps, pass for the MARIANNE of\nantiquity, hath not scrupled to censure this decision of their\u2019s very\nsharply[40].\n\nHaving transcribed the censure of Mr. Pope, who, indeed, somewhat too\nhastily, suspects the line in Homer for an Interpolation, our critic\nfastens upon him directly. EN COR ZENODOTI, EN JECUR CRATETIS! But foul\nlanguage and fair criticism are different things; and what he offers of\nthe _latter_ rather accounts for than justifies the _former_. All he\nsays on the subject, is in the good old way of _authorities_, which,\nhe diligently rakes together out of every corner of Greek and Roman\nantiquity. From all these he concludes, as he thinks, irresistibly, not\nthat the passage in question _might_ be _genuin_ (for that few would\ndispute with him) but that the kind of expression itself is a _real\nbeauty_. _Bona elocutio est: honesta figura._ Though, to the praise\nof his discretion be it remembered, he does not even venture on this\nassertion, without his usual support of _precedent_. And, for want\nof a better, he takes up with old _Servius_. For so, it seems, this\ngrammarian hath declared himself, with respect to some expressions of\nthe same kind in _Virgil_.\n\nBut let him make the best of his authorities. And, when he has done\nthat, I shall take the liberty to assure him, that the persons, he\ncontends against, do not think themselves, in the least, concerned with\nthem. For, though he believes it an undeniable maxim, _Critici non\nesse inquirere, utrum recte autor quid scripserit, sed an omnino sic\nscripserit_[41]: yet, in the case before us, he must not be surprized,\nif others do not so conceive of it.\n\nIndeed, where the critic would defend the _authenticity_ of a word or\nexpression, the way of _precedent_ is, doubtless, the very best, that\ncommon sense allows to be taken. For the evidence of _fact_, at once,\nbears down all suspicion of _corruption_ or _interpolation_. Again;\nif the _elegance_ of single words (or of intire phrases, where the\nsuspicion turns on the _oddity or uncommoness of the construction_,\nonly) be the matter in dispute, full and precise authorities must\ndecide it. For _elegance_, here, means nothing else but the practice\nof the best writers. And thus far I would join issue with the learned\ncensurer; and should think he did well in prescribing this rule to\nhimself in the correction of _approved ancient authors_.\n\nBut what have these cases to do with the point in question? The\nobjection is made, not to _words_, which alone are capable of being\njustified by authority, but to _things_, which must ever be what they\nare, in spite of it. This mode of writing is shewn to be abundantly\ndefective, for reasons taken from _the nature of our ideas, and the end\nand genius of the nobler forms of composition_. And what is it to tell\nus, that great writers have overlooked or neglected them?\n\n1. In our customary train of _thinking_, the mind is carried along,\n_in succession_, from _one_ clear and distinct idea to _another_.\nOr, if the attention be _at once_ employed on _two senses_, there is\never such a close and near analogy betwixt them, that the perceptive\nfaculty, easily and almost instantaneously passing from the one to\nthe other, is not divided in its regards betwixt them, but even seems\nto itself to consider them, as _one_: as is the case with _metaphor_:\nand, universally, with all the just forms of _allusion_. The union\nbetween the _literal_ and _figurative_ sense is so strict, that they\nrun together in the imagination; and the effect of the _figure_ is only\nto let in fresh light and lustre on the _literal_ meaning. But now,\nwhen _two different, unconnected ideas_ are obtruded, at the same time\nupon us, the mind suffers a kind of violence and distraction, and is\nthereby put out of that natural state, in which it so much delights.\nTo take the learned writer\u2019s instance from Polybius: \u0395\u039b\u03a0\u0399\u0394\u0391 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03a7\u0395\u0399\u03a1\u0391\n\u03a0\u03a1\u039f\u03a3\u039b\u0391\u039c\u0392\u0391\u039d\u0395\u0399\u039d. How different is the idea of _collecting forces_, and\nof that _act_ of the mind, which we call _taking courage_! These two\n_perceptions_ are not only distinct from each other, but totally\nunconnected by any _natural_ bond of relationship betwixt them. And yet\nthe word \u03a0\u03a1\u039f\u03a3\u039b\u0391\u039c\u0392\u0391\u039d\u0395\u0399\u039d must be seen in this double view, before we can\ntake the full meaning of the historian.\n\n2. This conjunction of _unrelated_ ideas, by the means of a _common\nterm_, agrees as ill to the _end and genius of the writer\u2019s\ncomposition_, as _the natural bent and constitution of the mind_. For\nthe question is only about the _greater poetry_, which addresses itself\nto the PASSIONS, or IMAGINATION. And, in either case, this play of\nwords which Mr. Pope condemns, must be highly out of season.\n\nWhen we are necessitated, as it were, to look different ways, and\nactually to contemplate two unconnected significations of the same\nword, before we can thoroughly comprehend its purpose, the mind is\nmore amused by this fanciful conjunction of ideas, than is consistent\nwith the artless, undesigning simplicity of _passion_. It disturbs and\ninterrupts the flow of _affection_, by presenting this disparted image\nto the _fancy_. Again; where _fancy_ itself is solely addressed, as in\nthe _nobler descriptive species_, this arbitrary assemblage of ideas\nis not less improper. For the poet\u2019s business is now, to astonish or\nentertain the mind with a succession of _great_ or _beautiful_ images.\nAnd the intervention of this juggler\u2019s trick diverts the thought from\ncontemplating its proper scenery. We should be admiring some glorious\nrepresentation of _nature_, and are stopped, on a sudden, to observe\nthe writer\u2019s _art_, whose ingenuity can fetch, out of one word, two\nsuch foreign and discrepant meanings.\n\nIn the lighter forms of poetry indeed, and more especially in the\n_burlesque epic_, this affectation has its _place_; as in that line of\nMr. Pope, quoted by this critic;\n\n    _sometimes counsel_ takes, _and sometimes tea_.\n\nFor 1. The writer\u2019s intention is here, not to _affect the passions_,\nor _transport the fancy_, but solely to _divert and amuse_. And to\nsuch _end_ this species of trifling is very apposite. 2. The _manner_,\nwhich the burlesque epic takes to divert, is by confounding _great\nthings with small_. A _mode of speech_ then, which favours such\n_confusion_, is directly to its purpose. 3. This poem is, by its\nnature, _satyrical_, and, like the _old comedy_, delights in exposing\nthe faults and vices of _composition_. So that the _expression_ is\nhere properly employed (and this was, perhaps, the _first_ view of the\nwriter) to ridicule the use of it in _grave works_. If M. _D\u2019Orville_\nthen could seriously design to confute Mr. Pope\u2019s criticism by his own\npractice in that line of the _Rape of the Lock_, he has only shewn,\nthat he does not, in the least, comprehend the real genius of this\npoem. But to return:\n\nThere is, as appears to me, but one case, in which this _double sense_\nof words can be admitted in the more solemn forms of poetry. It is,\nwhen, besides the plain literal meaning, which the context demands, the\nmind is carried forward to some more illustrious and important object.\nWe have an instance in the famous line of Virgil,\n\n    _Attollens humeris famamque et fata nepotum_.\n\nBut this is so far from contradicting, that it furthers the writer\u2019s\nproper intention. We are not called off from the _subject matter_ to\nthe observation of a _conceit_, but to the admiration of _kindred_\nsublime conceptions. For even here, it is to be observed, there is\nalways required some previous dependency and relationship, though not\nextremely obvious, in the natures of the things themselves, whereon to\nground and justify the analogy. Otherwise, the intention of the _double\nsense_ is perfectly inexcusable.\n\nBut the instance from Virgil, as we have seen it explained (and for\nthe first time) by a great critic[42], is so curious, that I shall\nbe allowed to enlarge a little upon it: and the rather as Virgil\u2019s\npractice in this instance will let us into the true secret of\nconducting these _double senses_.\n\nThe comment of _Servius_ on this line is remarkable. \u201cHunc versum\nnotant Critici, quasi superflu\u00e8 et inutiliter additum, nec\nconvenientem _gravitati_ ejus, namque est magis _neotericus_.\u201d Mr.\nAddison conceived of it in the same manner when he said, \u201c_This was the\nonly witty line in the \u00c6neis_;\u201d meaning such a line as _Ovid_ would\nhave written. We see the opinion which these Critics entertained of the\n_double sense_, in _general_, in the greater Poetry. They esteemed it\na wanton play of fancy, misbecoming the dignity of the writer\u2019s work,\nand the gravity of his character. They took it, in short, for a mere\n_modern_ flourish, totally different from the pure unaffected manner of\ngenuin antiquity. And thus far they unquestionably judged right. Their\ndefect was in not seeing that the _use_ of it, as here employed by the\nPoet, was an exception to the _general rule_. But to have seen this was\nnot, perhaps, to be expected even from these Critics.\n\nHowever, from this want of penetration arose a difficulty in\ndetermining whether to read, _Facta_ or _Fata_ Nepotum. And, as we\nnow understand that _Servius_ and his Critics were utter strangers to\nVirgil\u2019s noble idea, it is no wonder they could not resolve it. But the\n_latter_ is the Poet\u2019s own word. He considered this shield of celestial\nmake as a kind of Palladium, like the ANCILE, which fell from Heaven,\nand used to be carried in procession on the shoulders of the SALII.\n\u201cQuid de scutis,\u201d says Lactantius, \u201cjam vetustate putridis dicam? Quae\ncum portant, _Deos ipsos se gestare_ HUMERIS SUIS _arbitrantur_.\u201d [Div.\nInst. l. i. c. 21.]\n\nVirgil, in a fine flight of imagination, alludes to this venerable\nceremony, comparing, as it were, the shield of his Hero to the sacred\nANCILE; and in conformity to the practice in that sacred procession\nrepresents his Hero in the priestly office of Religion,\n\n    _Attollens_ HUMERO _famamque et_ FATA _Nepotum._\n\nThis idea then of the sacred shield, the guard and glory of Rome, and\non which, in this advanced situation, depended the fame and fortune of\nhis country, the poet, with extreme elegance and sublimity, transfers\nto the shield which guarded their great progenitor, while he was laying\nthe first foundations of the Roman Empire.\n\nBut to return to the subject before us. What has been said of the\nimpropriety of _double senses_, holds of _the construction of a single\nterm in two senses_, even though its authorized usage may equally admit\n_both_. So that I cannot be of a mind with the learned critic\u2019s _wise\nmen_[43]; _who acknowledge an extreme elegance in this form, when the\ngoverning verb equally corresponds to the two substantives_. But when\nit properly can be applied but to _one_ of them, and with some force\nand straining only, to the _second_, as commonly happens with the\napplication of _one verb_ to _two substantives_, it then degenerates,\nas Mr. Addison observes, into a mere _quibble_, and is utterly\nincompatible with the graver form of composition. And for this we have\nthe concurrent authority of the _cordati_ themselves, who readily\nadmit, _durum admodum et_ \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c7\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03b9\u03ba\u03c9\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd _fieri orationem, si verbum\nhoc ab alterutro abhorreat_[44]. Without softening matters, besides the\nformer absurdity of _a second sense_, we are now indebted to a forced\nand barbarous construction for _any_ second sense _at all_.\n\nBut surely this venerable bench of critics, to whom our censurer thinks\nfit to make his solemn appeal, were not aware of the imprudence of this\nconcession. For why, if one may presume to ask, is the _latter_ use\nof this _figure_ condemned, but for reasons, which shew the manifest\nabsurdity of the thing, however countenanced by authorities? And is not\nthis the case of the _former_? Or, is the transgression of the standing\nrules of _good sense_, in the judgment of these _censors_, a more\npardonable crime in a writer, than of _common usage or grammar_?\n\nAfter all, since he lays so great stress on his _authorities_, it may\nnot be amiss to consider the proper force of them.\n\nThe form of speaking under consideration has been censured as a\n_trifling, affected witticism_. This _censure_ he hopes entirely to\nelude by shewing it was in use, more especially among two sorts of\npersons, the least likely to be infected with _wrong taste_, the\n_oldest_, that is to say, the _simplest_; and the most _refined_\nwriters. In short, he thinks to stop all mouths by alledging instances\nfrom _Homer_ and _Virgil_.\n\nBut what if Homer and Virgil in the few examples of this kind to be met\nwith in their writings have _erred_? And, which is more, what if that\nvery _simplicity_ on the one hand, and _refinement_ on the other, which\nhe builds so much upon, can be shewn to be the _natural_ and almost\nnecessary _occasions_ of their falling into such _errors_? This, I am\npersuaded, was the truth of the case. For,\n\n1. In the _simpler ages of learning_, when, as yet, composition is\nnot turned into an _art_, but every writer, especially of vehement\nand impetuous genius, is contented to put down his _first thoughts_,\nand, for their _expression_, takes up with the most obvious words and\nphrases, that present themselves to him, this improper construction\nwill not be unfrequent. For the writer, who is not knowing enough to\ntake offence at these niceties, having an immediate occasion to express\n_two things_, and finding _one word_, which, in common usage, at least\nwith a little straining, extends to _both_, he looks no further, but,\nas suspecting no fault, employs it without scruple. And I am the more\nconfirmed in this account, from observing, that sometimes, where the\ngoverning _verb_ cannot be made to bear this double sense, and yet the\nmeaning of the writer is clear enough from the context, the proper\nword is altogether omitted. Of this kind are several of the _modes\nof speaking_, alledged by the writer as instances of the _double\nsense_. As in that of Sophocles[45], where Electra, giving orders to\nChrysothemis, about the disposal of the libations, destined for the\ntomb of her father, delivers herself thus,\n\n    \u0391\u039b\u039b\u2019 \u1f22 \u03a0\u039d\u039f\u0391\u0399\u03a3\u0399\u039d, \u1f22 \u03b2\u03b1\u03b8\u03c5\u03c3\u03ba\u03b1\u03c6\u03b5\u1fd6 \u039a\u039f\u039d\u0395\u0399 \u039a\u03a1\u03a5\u03a8\u039f\u039d \u03bd\u03b9\u03bd.\n\nThe writer\u2019s first intention was to look out for some such _verb_, as\nwould equally correspond to \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2 and \u03ba\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03b9, but this not occurring,\nhe sets down one, that only agrees to the last, and leaves the other to\nbe understood or supplied by the reader; as it easily might, the scope\nof the place necessarily directing him to it. It cannot be supposed,\nthat Sophocles designed to say, \u03ba\u03c1\u03cd\u03c8\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03b1\u1fd6\u03c2. There is no affinity\nof _sense_ or _sound_ to lead him to such construction. Again: in that\nverse of Homer[46], \u1f3d\u03a0\u03a0\u039f\u0399 \u1f00\u03b5\u03c1\u03c3\u03af\u03c0\u03bf\u03b4\u03b5\u03c2, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03af\u03bb\u03b1 \u03a4\u0395\u03a5\u03a7\u0395\u2019 \u0395\u039a\u0395\u0399\u03a4\u039f, the\npoet never meant to say \u1f35\u03c0\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f14\u03ba\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd\u03c4\u03bf, but neglectingly left it thus,\nas trusting the nature of the thing would instruct the reader to supply\n\u1f14\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03b1\u03bd, or some such word, expressive of the _posture_ required.\n\nNay, writers of more exactness than these simple Greek poets have\noccasionally overlooked such inaccuracies: as Cicero[47], who, when\nmore intent on his _argument_, than _expression_, lets fall this\nimpropriety; _Nec vero_ SUPRA TERRAM, _sed etiam_ IN INTIMIS EJUS\nTENEBRIS _plurimarum rerum_ LATET _utilitas_. \u2019Tis plain, the writer,\nconceiving _extat_, _patet_, or some such word, to be necessarily\nsuggested by the tenor of his sentence, never troubled himself to go\nback to insert it. Yet these are brought as examples of the _double\napplication of single words_. The truth is, they are examples of\n_indiligence_ in the writers, and as such, may shew us, how easily\nthey might fall, for the same reason, into the impropriety of _double\nsenses_. In those of this class then the impropriety, complained of, is\nthe effect of mere _inattention or carelessness_.\n\n2. On the other hand, when this negligent simplicity of _thinking and\nspeaking_ gives way to the utmost polish and refinement in _both_, we\nare then to expect it, for the contrary reason. For the more obvious\nand natural forms of writing being, now, grown common, are held\ninsipid, and the public taste demands to be gratified by the seasoning\nof a more studied and artificial expression. It is not enough to\n_please_, the writer must find means to _strike_ and _surprize_. And\nhence the _antithesis_, the _remote allusion_, and every other mode\nof _affected eloquence_. But of these the _first_ that prevails, is\nthe application of the _double sense_. For the general use justifying\nit, it easily passes with the reader and writer too, for _natural_\nexpression; and yet as splitting the attention suddenly, and at once,\non two different views, carries with it all the novelty and surprize,\nthat are wanted. When the public taste is not, yet, far gone in this\nrefinement, and the writer hath himself the truest taste (which was\nVIRGIL\u2019S case) such affectations will not be very common; or, when\nthey do occur, will, for the most part, be agreeably softened. As in\nthe instance of _retroque pedem cum voce repressit_; where, by making\n_voce_ immediately dependent on the _preposition_, and remotely on the\n_verb_, he softens the harshness of the expression, which seems much\nmore tolerable in this form, than if he had put it, _pedem vocemque\nrepressit_. So again in the line,\n\n    _Crudeles aras trajectaque pectora ferro\n    Nudavit,_\n\nthe incongruity of _the two senses_ in _nudavit_, is the less perceived\nfrom its _metaphorical application_ to _one_ of them.\n\nBut the desire of _pleasing continually_, which, in the circumstance\nsupposed, insensibly grows into a _habit_, must, of necessity, betray\nwriters of less taste and exactness into the frequent commission of\nthis fault. Which, as Mr. Addison takes notice, was remarkably the case\nwith OVID.\n\nThe purpose of all this is to shew, that the use of this _form of\nspeaking_ arose from _negligence_, or _affectation_, never from\n_judgment_. And such being the obvious, and, it is presumed, true\naccount of the matter, the learned _Animadvertor_ on CHARITON is left,\nas I said, to make the best of his _authorities_; or, even to enlarge\nhis list of them with the _Centuries_[48] of his good friends, at\nhis leisure. For till he can tell us of a writer, who, neither in\n_careless_, nor _ambitious_ humours, is capable of this folly, his\naccumulated citations, were they more to his purpose, than many of\nthem are, will do him little service. Unless perhaps we are to give up\ncommon sense to authority, and pride ourselves on mimicking the very\ndefects of our _betters_. And even here he need not be at a loss for\n_precedents_. For so the disciples of Plato, we are told, in former\ntimes, affected to be _round-shouldered_, in compliment to their\nmaster; and Aristotle\u2019s worshipers, because of a natural impediment\nin this philosopher\u2019s speech, thought it to their credit to turn\n_Stammerers_. And without doubt, while this fashion prevailed, there\nwere critics, who found out a _Je ne s\u00e7ai quoi_ in the _air_ of the one\nparty, and in the _eloquence_ of the other.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n97. SUSPENDIT PICTA VULTUM MENTEMQUE TABELLA;] Horace judiciously\ndescribes _painting_ by that peculiar circumstance, which does most\nhonour to this fine art. It is, that, in the hands of a master,\nit attaches, not the _eyes_ only, but the very _soul_, to its\nrepresentation of the _human affections and manners_. For it is in\ncontemplating _subjects_ of this kind, that the mind, with a fond and\neager attention, _hangs_ on the picture. Other imitations may _please_,\nbut this warms and transports with _passion_. And, because whatever\naddresses itself immediately to the _eye_, affects us most; hence it\nis, that painting, so employed, becomes more efficacious to express\nthe _manners_ and imprint _characters_, than poetry itself: or rather,\nhath the advantages of the best and usefullest species of poetry, the\n_dramatic_, when enforced by just action on the stage.\n\nQuintilian gives it the like preference to _Oratory_. Speaking of the\nuse of _action_ in an orator, he observes, \u201cIs [gestus] quantum habeat\nin oratore, momenti; satis vel ex eo patet, quod pleraque, etiam citra\nverba, significat. Quippe non manus solum, sed nutus etiam declarant\nnostram voluntatem, et in mutis pro sermone sunt: et salutatio\nfrequenter sine voce intelligitur atque afficit, et ex ingressu\nvultuque perspicitur habitus animorum: et animantium quoque, sermone\ncarentium, ira, laetitia, adulatio, et oculis et quibusdam aliis\ncorporis signis deprehenditur. Nec mirum, si ista, quae tamen aliquo\nsunt posita motu, tantum in animis valent: quum _pictura, tacens opus,\net habit\u00fbs semper ejusdem, sic intimos penetret affectus, ut ipsam vim\ndicendi nonnunquam superare videatur_[49].\u201d\n\nWe see then of what importance it is, since _affections_ of every kind\nare equally within his power, that the painter apply himself to excite\nonly _those_, which are subservient to good morals. An importance,\nof which Aristotle himself (who was no enthusiast in the fine arts)\nwas so sensible, that he gives it in charge, amongst other political\ninstructions, to the governors of youth, \u201cthat they allow them to\nsee no other pictures, than such as have this moral aim and tendency;\nof which kind were more especially those of POLYGNOTUS.\u201d [POLIT. lib.\nviii. c. 5.]\n\nFor the _manner_, in which this moral efficacy of picture is brought\nabout, we find it agreeably explained in that conversation of\n_Socrates_ with _Parrhasius_ in the _Memorabilia_ of Xenophon. The\nwhole may be worth considering.\n\n\u201cPAINTING, said Socrates, one day, in a conversation with the painter\nParrhasius, is, I think, the resemblance or imitation of sensible\nobjects. For you represent in colours, bodies of all sorts, _hollow and\nprojecting, bright and obscure, hard and soft, old and new_. \u201cWe do.\u201d\nAnd, when you would draw beautiful pourtraits, since it is not possible\nto find any _single figure_ of a man, faultless in all its parts and of\nexact proportion; your way is to collect, from _several_, those members\nor features, which are most perfect in each, and so, by joining them\ntogether, to compound one whole body, completely beautiful. \u201cThat is\nour method.\u201d What then, continued Socrates, and are you not able, also,\nto imitate in colours, the MANNERS; those tendencies and dispositions\nof the soul, which are benevolent, friendly, and amiable; such as\ninspire love and affection into the heart, and whose soft insinuations\ncarry with them the power of persuasion?\n\n\u201cHow, replied Parrhasius, can the pencil imitate _that_, which hath no\nproportion, colour, or any other of those properties, you have been\njust now enumerating, as the objects of sight?\u201d Why, is it not true,\nreturned Socrates, that a man sometimes casts a _kind_, sometimes, an\n_angry_, look on others? \u201cIt is.\u201d There must then be something in the\neyes capable of expressing those passions. \u201cThere must.\u201d And is there\nnot a wide difference between the look of him, who takes part in the\nprosperity of a friend, and another, who sympathizes with him in his\nsorrows? \u201cUndoubtedly, there is the widest. The countenance, in the one\ncase, expresses joy, in the other, concern.\u201d These affections may then\nbe represented in picture. \u201cThey may so.\u201d In like manner, all other\ndispositions of our nature, _the lofty and the liberal, the abject\nand ungenerous, the temperate and the prudent, the petulant and\nprofligate_, these are severally discernible by the _look or attitude_:\nand that, whether we observe men in _action_, or at _rest_. \u201cThey are.\u201d\nAnd these, therefore, come within the power of graphical imitation?\n\u201cThey do.\u201d Which then, concluded Socrates, do you believe, men take\nthe greatest pleasure in contemplating; such imitations, as set before\nthem the GOOD, the LOVELY, and the FAIR, of those, which represent the\nBAD, the HATEFUL, and the UGLY, _qualities and affections of humanity_?\nThere can be no doubt, said Parrhasius, of their giving the preference\nto the former.\u201d [Lib. iii.]\n\nThe conclusion, the _philosopher_ drives at in this conversation, and\nwhich the _painter_ readily concedes to him, is what, I am persuaded,\nevery master of the art would be willing to act upon, were he at\nliberty to pursue the bent of his natural genius and inclination. But\nit unfortunately happens, to the infinite prejudice of this _mode of\nimitation_, above all others, that the artist _designs_ not so much\nwhat the dignity of his profession requires of him, or the general\ntaste of those, he would most wish for his judges, approves; as\nwhat the rich or noble _Connoisseur_, who _bespeaks_ his work, and\nprescribes the subject, demands. What this has usually been, let the\nhistory of ancient and modern painting declare[50]. Yet, considering\nits vast power in MORALS, as explained above, one cannot enough lament\nthe ill destiny of this divine ART; which, from the chaste hand-maid\nof _virtue_, hath been debauched, in violence to her nature, to a\nshameless prostitute of _vice_, and procuress of _pleasure_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n117. SCRIBIMUS INDOCTI DOCTIQUE POEMATA PASSIM.] The DOCTI POETAE have\nat all times been esteemed by the wise and good, or, rather, have been\nreverenced, as Plato speaks, \u1f65\u03c3\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03c3\u03bf\u03c6\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21\u03b3\u03b5\u03bc\u03cc\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2.\n\nAs for the INDOCTI, we may take their character as drawn by the severe,\nbut just pen of our great Milton\u2014\u201cPoetas equidem ver\u00e8 doctos et diligo\net colo et audiendo saepissim\u00e8 delector\u2014istos ver\u00f2 versiculorum\nnugivendos quis non oderit? quo genere nihil stultius aut vanius\naut corruptius, aut mendacius. Laudant, vituperant, sine delectu,\nsine discrimine, judicio aut modo, nunc principes, nunc plebeios,\ndoctos juxta atque indoctos, probos an improbos perind\u00e8 habent; prout\ncantharus, aut spes nummuli, aut fatuus ille furor inflat ac rapit;\ncongestis undique et verborum et rerum tot discoloribus ineptiis tamque\nputidis, ut laudatum long\u00e8 praestet sileri, et pravo, quod aiunt,\nvivere naso, qu\u00e0m sic laudari: vituperatus ver\u00f2 qui sit, haud mediocri\nsan\u00e8 honori sibi ducat, se tam absurdis, tam stolidis nebulonibus\ndisplicere.\u201d DEF. SECUND. PRO POP. ANG. p. 337. 4^{to} Lond. 1753.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n118. HIC ERROR TAMEN, &c.] What follows from hence to v. 136,\ncontaining an encomium on _the office of poets_, is one of the leading\nbeauties in the epistle. Its artifice consists in this, that, under the\ncover of a negligent commendation, interspersed with even some _traits_\nof pleasantry upon them, it insinuates to the emperor, in the manner\nthe least offensive and ostentatious, the genuin merits, and even\n_sacredness_ of their character. The whole is a fine instance of that\naddress, which, in delivering rules for this kind of writing, the poet\nprescribes elsewhere.\n\n    _Et sermone opus est modo tristi, saepe jocoso,\n    Defendente vicem modo Rhetoris atque Poetae;\n    Interdum_ URBANI PARCENTIS VIRIBUS ATQUE\n    EXTENUANTIS EAS CONSULTO.\n                                         [1 S. x. 14.]\n\nThis conduct, in the place before us, shews the poet\u2019s exquisite\nknowledge of _human nature_. For there is no surer method of removing\nprejudices, and gaining over _others_ to an esteem of any thing we\nwould recommend, than by not appearing to lay too great a stress on\nit _ourselves_. It is, further, a proof of his intimate acquaintance\nwith the peculiar turn of the _great_; who, not being forward to think\nhighly of any thing but themselves and their own dignities, are, with\ndifficulty, brought to conceive of other accomplishments, as of much\nvalue; and can only be won by the fair and candid address of their\napologist, who must be sure not to carry his praises and pretensions\ntoo high. It is this art of entering into the _characters, prejudices,\nand expectations_ of others, and of knowing to suit our application,\nprudently, but with innocence, to them, which constitutes what we\ncall A KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD. An art, of which the great poet was a\nconsummate master, and than which there cannot be a more useful or\namiable quality. Only we must take care not to confound it with that\nsupple, versatile, and intriguing genius, which, taking all shapes,\nand reflecting all characters, generally passes for it in the commerce\nof the world, or rather is prized much above it; but, as requiring\nno other talents in the possessor than those of a _low cunning_ and\n_corrupt design_, is of all others the most mischievous, worthless, and\ncontemptible character, that infests human life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n118. HIC ERROR TAMEN ET LEVIS HAEC INSANIA QUANTAS VIRTUTES HABEAT, SIC\nCOLLIGE:] This apology for _poets_, and, in them, for _poetry_ itself,\nthough delivered with much apparent negligence and unconcern, yet, if\nconsidered, will be found to comprize in it every thing, that any, or\nall, of its most zealous advocates have ever pretended in its behalf.\nFor it comprehends,\n\nI. [From v. 118 to 124,] THE PERSONAL GOOD QUALITIES OF THE POET.\nNothing is more insisted on by those, who take upon themselves the\npatronage and recommendation of any _art_, than that it tends to\nraise in the professor of it all those _virtues_, which contribute\nmost to his _own_ proper enjoyment, and render him most agreeable to\n_others_. Now this, it seems, may be urged, on the side of _poetry_,\nwith a peculiar force. For not only the _study_ of this art hath\na _direct_ tendency to produce a neglect or disregard of _worldly\nhonours and emoluments_ (from the too eager appetite of which almost\nall the _calamities_, as well as the more unfriendly _vices_, of men\narise) but he, whom the benign aspect of the muse hath glanced upon\nand destined for her peculiar service, is, by _constitution_, which is\never the best security, fortified against the attacks of them. Thus his\nRAPTURES in the enjoyment of his muse make him overlook _the common\naccidents of life_ [v. 121]; _he is generous, open, and undesigning,\nby_ NATURE [v. 122]; to which we must not forget to add, that he is\n_temperate_, that is to say, _poor_, by PROFESSION.\n\n    VIVIT SILIQUIS ET PANE SECUNDO.\n\nII. [From v. 124 to 132.] THE UTILITY OF THE POET TO THE STATE: and\nthis both on a _civil_ and _moral_ account. For, 1. the poets, whom we\nread in our younger years, and from whom we learn the _power of words_,\nand _hidden harmony of numbers_, that is, as a profound Scotchman\nteaches, the _first and most essential principles_ of eloquence[51],\nenable, by degrees, and instruct their pupil to appear with advantage,\nin that extensively useful capacity of a public speaker. And, indeed,\ngraver writers, than our poet, have sent the orator to this school. But\nthe pretensions of poetry go much farther. It delights [from v. 130\nto 132] to immortalize the triumphs of virtue: to _record_ or _feign_\nillustrious examples of heroic worth, for the service of the _rising\nage_: and, which is the last and best fruit of philosophy itself, it\ncan relieve even the languor of _ill-health_, and sustain _poverty_\nherself under the scorn and insult of contumelious opulence. 2. In a\n_moral_ view its services are not less considerable. (For it may be\nobserved the _poet_ was so far of a mind with the _philosopher_, to\ngive no quarter to _immoral_ poets). And to this end it serves, 1.\n[v. 127] _in turning the ear of youth_ from that early corruptor of\nits innocence, the seducement of a _loose and impure communication_.\n2. Next [v. 128] in forming our riper age (which it does with all the\naddress and tenderness of _friendship_: AMICIS _praeceptis_) _by the\nsanctity and wisdom of its precepts_. And, 3. which is the proper\noffice of _tragedy, in correcting the excesses of the natural passions_\n[v. 122]. The reader who doth not turn himself to the original, will be\napt to mistake this detail of the virtues of poetry, for an account of\nthe Policy and Legislation of ancient and modern times; whose proudest\nboast, when the philanthropy of their enthusiastic projectors ran at\nthe highest, was but to _prevent the impressions of vice_: to _form the\nmind to habits of virtue_: and _to curb and regulate the passions_.\n\nIII. HIS SERVICES TO RELIGION. This might well enough be said, whether\nby _religion_ we understand an _internal reverence_ of the Gods, which\npoetry first and principally intended; or their _popular adoration\nand worship_, which, by its _fictions_, as of necessity conforming to\nthe received fancies of superstition, it must greatly tend to promote\nand establish. But the poet, artfully seizing a circumstance, which\nsupposes and includes in it both these respects, renders his defence\nvastly interesting.\n\nAll the customary _addresses_ of Heathenism to its gods, more\nespecially on any great and solemn emergency, were the work of the\npoet. For _nature_, it seems, had taught the pagan world, what the\nHebrew Prophets themselves did not disdain to practice, that, to\nlift the imagination, and, with it, the sluggish affections of human\nnature, to Heaven, it was expedient to lay hold on every assistance\nof art. They therefore presented their supplications to the Divinity\nin the richest and brightest dress of eloquence, which is poetry. Not\nto insist, that _devotion_, when sincere and ardent, from its very\n_nature_, enkindles a glow of thought, which communicates strongly\nwith the transports of poetry. Hence _the language of the Gods_ (for\nso was poetry accounted, as well from its being the divinest species\nof communication, our rude conceptions can well frame even for\nsuperior intelligencies, as for that it was the fittest vehicle of our\napplications to them) became not the ornament only, but an _essential_\nin the ceremonial, of paganism. And this, together with an allusion to\n_a form of public prayer_ (for such was his _secular ode_) composed\nby himself, gives, at once, a grace and sublimity to this part of the\napology, which are perfectly inimitable.\n\nThus hath the great poet, in the compass of a few lines, drawn together\na complete defence of his _art_. For what more could the warmest\nadmirer of poetry, or, because zeal is quickened by opposition, what\nmore could the vehement declaimer against Plato (who proscribed it),\nurge in its behalf, than that it furnishes, to the poet himself, the\nsurest means of _solitary and social_ enjoyment: and further serves to\nthe most important CIVIL, MORAL, and RELIGIOUS purposes?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n119.\u2014VATIS AVARUS NON TEMERE EST ANIMUS:] There is an unlucky Italian\nproverb, which says, _Chi ben scrive, non sara mai ricco_.\u2014The true\nreason, without doubt, is here given by the poet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n124. MILITIAE QUAMQUAM PIGER ET MALUS,] The observation has much grace,\nas referring to himself, who had acquired no credit, as a soldier, in\nthe civil wars of his country.\u2014We have an example of this misalliance\nbetween the _poetic_ and _military_ character, recorded in the history\nof our own civil wars, which may be just worth mentioning. Sir P.\nWarwick, speaking of the famous Earl of _Newcastle_, observes\u2014\u201chis\nedge had too much of the razor in it, for he had a tincture of a\nromantic spirit, and had the misfortune to have somewhat of the Poet\nin him; so as he chose Sir William Davenant, an eminent good poet,\nand loyal gentleman, to be lieutenant-general of his ordnance. This\ninclination of his own, and such kind of witty society (to be modest\nin the expressions of it) diverted many councils, and lost many\nopportunities, which the nature of that affair, this great man had now\nentered into, required.\u201d MEMOIRS, p. 235.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n132. CASTIS CUM PUERIS, &c.] We have, before, taken notice, how\nproperly the poet, for the easier and more successful introduction of\nhis apology, assumed the person _urbani, parcentis viribus_. We see\nhim here, in _that_ of _Rhetoris atque Poetae_. For admonished, as it\nwere, by the rising dignity of his subject, which led him from the\n_moral_, to speak of the _religious_ uses of poetry, he insensibly\ndrops the _badineur_, and takes an air, not of seriousness only, but\nof solemnity. This change is made with _art_. For the attention is\ncarried from the uses of poetry, in _consoling the unhappy_, by the\neasiest transition imaginable, to the still more solemn application of\nit to the _offices of piety_. And its _use_ is, to impress on the mind\na stronger sense of the weight of the poet\u2019s plea, than could have been\nexpected from a more direct and continued declamation. For this is the\nconstant and natural effect of knowing to pass from _gay_ to _severe_,\nwith grace and dignity.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n169. SED HABET COMOEDIA TANTO PLUS ONERIS, QUANTO VENIAR MINUS.]\nTragedy, whose intention is to _affect_, may secure what is most\nessential to its _kind_, though it fail in some minuter resemblances\nof _nature_: Comedy, proposing for its main end _exact representation_,\nis fundamentally defective, if it do not perfectly succeed in it. And\nthis explains the ground of the poet\u2019s observation, that Comedy hath\n_veniae minus_; for he is speaking of the draught of the _manners_\nonly, in which respect a greater _indulgence_ is very deservedly\nshewn to the tragic than comic writer. But though Tragedy hath thus\nfar the advantage, yet in another respect its laws are more severe\nthan those of Comedy; and that is in the conduct of the _fable_. It\nmay be asked then, which of the two dramas is, on the whole, most\ndifficult. To which the answer is decisive. For Tragedy, whose end is\nthe _Pathos_, produces it by _action_, while Comedy produces its end,\nthe _Humourous_, by _Character_. Now it is much more difficult to paint\nmanners, than to plan action; because _that_ requires the philosopher\u2019s\nknowledge of human nature; _this_, only the historian\u2019s knowledge of\nhuman events.\n\nIt is true, in one sense, the _tragic_ muse has _veniae minus_; for\nthough grave and pleasant scenes may be indifferently represented,\nor even mixed together, in comedy, yet, in tragedy, the serious and\nsolemn air must prevail throughout. Indeed, our Shakespear has violated\nthis rule, as he hath, upon occasion, almost every other rule, of just\ncriticism: Whence, some writers, taking advantage of that idolatrous\nadmiration which is generally professed for this great poet, and\nnauseating, I suppose, the more common, though juster, forms of\nliterary composition, have been for turning his very transgression\nof the principles of common sense, into a standing precept for the\nstage. \u201cIt is said, that, if comedy may be wholly _serious_, why may\nnot tragedy now and then be indulged in being _gay_?\u201d If these critics\nbe in earnest in putting this question, they need not wait long for\nan answer. The _end_ of comedy being _to paint the manners_, nothing\nhinders (as I have shewn at large in the dissertation _on the provinces\nof the drama_) but \u201cthat it may take either character of _pleasant_\nor _serious_, as it chances, or even unite them both in one piece:\u201d\nBut the end of tragedy being _to excite the stronger passions_, this\ndiscordancy in the subject breaks the flow of those passions, and\nso prevents, or lessens at least, the very effect which this drama\nprimarily intends. \u201cIt is said, indeed, that this contrast of _grave_\nand _pleasant_ scenes, heightens the _passion_:\u201d if it had been said\nthat it heightens the _surprize_, the observation had been more just.\nLastly, \u201cwe are told, that this is nature, which generally blends\ntogether the _ludicrous_, and the _sublime_.\u201d But who does not know\n\n    _That art is nature to advantage dress\u2019d_;\n\nand that to dress out nature to _advantage_ in the present instance,\nthat is, in a composition whose laws are to be deduced from the\nconsideration of its _end_, these characters are to be kept by an\nartist, perfectly distinct?\n\nHowever this restraint upon tragedy does not prove that, upon the\nwhole, it has _plus oneris_. All I can allow, is, that either drama has\n_weight_ enough in all reason, for the ablest _shoulders_ to sustain.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n177. QUEM TULIT AD SCENAM VENTOSO GLORIA CURRU, EXANIMAT LENTUS\nSPECTATOR, &c. to v. 182.] There is an exquisite spirit of pleasantry\nin these lines, which hath quite evaporated in the hands of the\ncritics. These have gravely supposed them to come from the _person_\nof the _poet_, and to contain his serious censure of the vanity of\npoetic fame. Whereas, besides the manifest absurdity of the thing, its\ninconsistency with what is delivered elsewhere on this subject [A.\nP. v. 324.] where the Greeks are commended as being _praeter laudem\nnullius avari_, absolutely requires us to understand them as proceeding\nfrom an _objector_; who, as the poet hath very satirically contrived,\nis left to expose himself in the very terms of his _objection_. He had\njust been blaming the venality of the Roman dramatic writers. They\nhad shewn themselves more sollicitous about _filling their pockets_,\nthan deserving the reputation of good poets. And, instead of insisting\nfurther on the excellency of this _latter_ motive, he stops short, and\nbrings in a bad poet himself to laugh at it.\n\n\u201cAnd what then, says he, you would have us yield ourselves to the very\nwind and gust of praise; and, dropping all inferior considerations,\ndrive away to the expecting stage in the _puffed car of vain-glory_?\nFor what? To be _dispirited_, or blown up with air, as the capricious\nspectator shall think fit to enforce, or withhold, his _inspirations_.\nAnd is this the mighty benefit of your vaunted passion for fame? No;\nfarewel the stage, if the breath of others is _that_, on which the\nsilly bard is to depend for the contraction or enlargement of his\ndimensions.\u201d To all which convincing rhetoric the poet condescends to\nsay nothing; as well knowing, that no truer service is, oftentimes,\ndone to virtue or good sense, than when a knave or fool is left to\nhimself, to employ his idle raillery against either.\n\nThese interlocutory passages, laying open the sentiments of those\nagainst whom the poet is disputing, are very frequent in the _critical\nand moral_ writings of Horace, and are well suited to their dramatic\ngenius and original.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n210. ILLE PER EXTENTUM FUNEM, &c.] The Romans, who were immoderately\naddicted to spectacles of every kind, had in particular esteem the\n_funambuli_, or _rope-dancers_;\n\n    _Ita populus studio stupidus in_ FUNAMBULO\n    _Animum occuparat._\n                       PROL. in HECYR.\n\nFrom the admiration of whose tricks the expression, _ire per extentum\nfunem_, came to denote, proverbially, _an uncommon degree of excellence\nand perfection in any thing_. The allusion is, here, made with much\npleasantry, as the poet had just been rallying their fondness for these\n_extraordinary atchievements_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIbid. ILLE PER EXTENTUM FUNEM, &c. to v. 214.] It is observable, that\nHorace, here, makes his own _feeling_ the test of poetical merit.\nWhich is said with a philosophical exactness. For the _pathos_ in\ntragic, _humour_ in comic, and the same holds of the _sublime_ in the\nnarrative, and of every other _species_ of excellence in universal\npoetry, is the object, not of _reason_, but _sentiment_; and can\nbe estimated only from its _impression_ on the mind, not by any\nspeculative or general _rules_. Rules themselves are indeed nothing\nelse but an appeal to _experience_; conclusions drawn from wide and\ngeneral observation of the aptness and efficacy of certain _means_ to\nproduce those _impressions_. So that feeling or sentiment itself is not\nonly the surest, but the sole _ultimate_ arbiter of works of genius.\n\nYet, though this be true, the _invention_ of _general rules_ is not\nwithout its merit, nor the _application_ of them without its _use_, as\nmay appear from the following considerations.\n\nIt may be affirmed, universally, of all _didactic writing_, that it is\nemployed in _referring particular facts to general principles_. General\nprinciples themselves can often be referred to others more general; and\nthese again carried still higher, till we come to a _single_ principle,\nin which all the rest are involved. When this is done, science of\nevery kind hath attained its highest perfection.\n\nThe account, here given, might be illustrated from various instances.\nBut it will be sufficient to confine ourselves to the single one of\n_criticism_; by which I understand that _species_ of didactic writing,\nwhich _refers to general rules the virtues and faults of composition_.\nAnd the perfection of this _art_ would consist in an ability to refer\n_every_ beauty and blemish to a separate class; and _every_ class, by\na gradual progression, to some _one_ single principle. But the _art_\nis, as yet, far short of perfection. For many of these beauties and\nblemishes can be referred to no general rule at all; and the rules,\nwhich have been discovered, seem many of them unconnected, and not\nreducible to a common principle. It must be admitted however that such\ncritics are employed in their proper office, as contribute to the\n_confirmation_ of rules already established, or the _invention_ of new\nones.\n\nRules already established are then _confirmed_, when more _particulars_\nare referred to them. The invention of _new_ rules implies, 1.\nA _collection_ of various particulars, not yet regulated. 2. A\n_discovery_ of those circumstances of _resemblance_ or _agreement_,\nwhereby they become capable of being regulated. And 3. A subsequent\n_regulation_ of them, or arrangement into _one_ class according to\n_such_ circumstances of _agreement_. When this is done, the rule is\ncompleted. But if the critic is not able to observe any _common_\ncircumstance of resemblance in the several particulars he hath\ncollected, by which they may, all of them, be referred to one general\nclass, he hath then made no advancement in the _art of criticism_. Yet\nthe collection of his particular observations may be of use to other\ncritics; just as collections of natural history, though no part of\nphilosophy, may yet assist philosophical inquirers.\n\nWe see then from this general view of the matter, that the _merit_ of\ninventing _general rules_ consists in reducing criticism to an _art_;\nand that the _use_ of applying them, in practice, when the art is thus\nformed, is, to direct the caprices of _taste_ by the authority of rule,\nwhich we call _reason_.\n\nAnd, thus much being premised, we shall now be able to form a proper\njudgment of the _method_, which some of the most admired of the\nancients, as well as moderns, have taken in this _work of criticizing_.\nThe most eminent, at least the most popular, are, perhaps, Longinus,\nof the Greeks; P. Bouhours, of the French; and Mr. Addison, with us in\nEngland.\n\n1. _All_ the beautiful passages, which LONGINUS cites, are referred by\nhim to _five_ general classes. And 2dly, These general classes belong\nall to the _common_ principle of _sublimity_. He does not say this\npassage is _excellent_, but assigns the _kind_ of excellence, _viz._\n_sublimity_. Neither does he content himself with the general notion of\n_sublimity_, but names the _species_, viz. _Grandeur_ of _sentiment_,\npower of moving the _passions_, &c. His work therefore enables us to\n_class_ our perceptions of excellence, and consequently is formed on\nthe _true plan_ of criticism.\n\n2. The same may be observed of P. BOUHOURS. The passages, cited by him,\nare never mentioned in _general_ terms as _good_ or _bad_: but are\ninstances of good or bad _sentiment_. This is the _genus_, in which\n_all_ his instances are comprehended: but of this genus he marks also\nthe distinct _species_. He does not say, this sentiment is _good_;\nbut it is _sublime_, or _natural_, or _beautiful_, or _delicate_: or,\nthat another sentiment is _bad_; but that it is _mean_, or _false_,\nor _deformed_, or _affected_. To these several classes he refers his\nparticular instances: and these classes themselves are referred to the\nmore comprehensive principles of the excellence or fault of _single\nsentiment_, as opposed to the various _other_ excellencies and faults,\nwhich are observed in composition.\n\n3. Mr. ADDISON, in his _criticism on Milton_, proceeded in like manner.\nFor, _first_, these remarks are evidently applicable to the general\nobservations on the poem; in which every thing is referred to the\ncommon heads of _fable_, _morals_, _sentiments_, and _language_; and\neven the _specific_ excellencies and faults considered under each head\ndistinctly marked out. _Secondly_, The same is true concerning _many_\nof the observations on particular passages. The reader is not only\ntold, that a passage _has_ merit; but is informed what _sort_ of merit\nbelongs to it.\n\nNeither are the remaining observations wholly without use. For such\nparticular beauties and blemishes, as are barely _collected_, may\nyet serve as a foundation to future inquirers for making further\ndiscoveries. They may be considered as so many _single_ facts, an\n_attention_ to which is excited by the authority of the critic; and\nwhen these are considered jointly with such as _others_ may have\nobserved, those general principles of _similitude_ may at length be\nfound, which shall enable us to constitute _new_ classes of poetical\nmerit or blame.\n\nThus far the candid reader may go in apologizing for the _merits_\nof these writers. But, as, in sound criticism, candour must not be\nindulged at the expence of _justice_, I think myself obliged to add\nan observation concerning their _defects_; and _that_, on what I must\nthink the just principles here delivered.\n\nThough the method, taken by these writers, be _scientifical_, the real\nservice they have done to criticism, is not very considerable. And the\nreason is, they dwell too much in _generals_: that is, not only the\n_genus_ to which they refer their _species_ is too large, but those very\nsubordinate species themselves are too comprehensive.\n\nOf the _three_ critics, under consideration, the most instructive is,\nunquestionably, _Longinus_. The _genus_ itself, under which he ranks\nhis several _classes_, is as _particular_ as the species of the other\ntwo. Yet even _his_ classes are much too general to convey my very\ndistinct and useful information. It had been still better, if this fine\ncritic had descended to lower and more minute _particularities_, as\nsubordinate to _each class_. For to observe of any _sentiment_, that it\nis _grand_, or _pathetic_, and so of the other _species_, of sublime,\nis saying very little. Few readers want to be informed of this. It had\nbeen sufficient, if any notice was to be taken at all of so _general_\nbeauties, to have done it in the way, which some of the best critics\nhave taken, of merely pointing to them. But could he have discovered\nand produced to observation those _peculiar_ qualities in _sentiment_,\nwhich occasion the impression of _grandeur, pathos, &c._ this had\nbeen advancing the science of criticism very much, as tending to lay\nopen the more secret and hidden springs of that _pleasure_, which\nresults from poetical composition.\n\n_P. Bouhours_, as I observed, is still more faulty. His very _species_\nare so large, as make his criticism almost wholly useless and\ninsignificant.\n\nIt gives one pain to refuse to such a writer as Mr. _Addison_ any\n_kind_ of merit, which he appears to have valued himself upon, and\nwhich the generality of his readers have seemed willing to allow him.\nYet it must not be dissembled, that _criticism_ was by no means his\ntalent. His taste was truly elegant; but he had neither that vigour\nof understanding, nor chastised, philosophical spirit, which are so\nessential to this character, and which we find in hardly any of the\nancients besides Aristotle, and but in a very few of the moderns. For\nwhat concerns his _criticism on Milton_ in particular, there was this\naccidental benefit arising from it, that it occasioned an admirable\npoet to be read, and his excellencies to be observed. But for the merit\nof the work itself, if there be any thing just in the _plan_, it was,\nbecause Aristotle and Bossu had taken the same route before him. And\nas to his _own_ proper observations, they are for the most part, so\ngeneral and indeterminate, as to afford but little instruction to the\nreader, and are, not unfrequently, altogether frivolous. They are of a\nkind with those, in which the French critics (for I had rather instance\nin the defects of _foreign_ writers than of our _own_) so much abound;\nand which good judges agree to rank in the worst sort of criticism. To\ngive one example for all.\n\nCardinal PERRON, taking occasion to commend certain pieces of the poet\nRONSARD, chuses to deliver himself in the following manner: \u201cPrenez de\nlui quelque po\u00ebme que ce soit, il paye toujours son lecteur, et quand\nla verve le prend, il se guinde en haut, il vous porte jusques dans les\nnu\u00ebs, il vous fait voir mille belles choses.\n\n\u201cQue ses _saisons_ sont _bien-faites_! Que la description de la lyre a\nBertaut est _admirable_! Que le discours au ministre, _excellent_! Tous\nses hymnes sont _beaux_. Celui de l\u2019eternit\u00e9 est _admirable_; ceux des\nsaisons _marveilleux_.\u201d [Perroniana.]\n\nWhat now has the reader learned from this varied criticism, but\nthat his _Eminence_ was indeed very fond of his poet; and that he\nesteemed these several pieces to be (what with less expence of words\nhe might, in one breath, have called them) _well-turned_, _beautiful_,\n_excellent_, _admirable_, _marvellous_, poems? To have given us the\ntrue character of _each_, and to have marked the precise _degree_, as\nwell as _kind_, of merit in these works, had been a task of another\nnature.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n211.\u2014QUI PECTUS INANITER ANGIT,] The word _inaniter_ as well as\n_falsi_, applied in the following line to _terrores_, would express\nthat wondrous force of _dramatic representation_, which compels us\nto take part in _feigned_ adventures and situations, as if they were\n_real_; and exercises the passions with the same violence, in _remote\nfancied scenes_, as in the _present distresses of real life_.\n\nAnd this is that sovereign quality in poetry, which, as an old writer\nof our own naturally expresses it, is of force _to hold children from\nplay, and old men from the chimney corner_[52]. The poet, in the place\nbefore us, considers it as a kind of _magic virtue_, which transports\nthe spectator into all _places_, and makes him, occasionally, assume\nall _persons_. The resemblance holds, also, in this, that its effects\nare instantaneous and irresistible. _Rules_, _art_, _decorum_, all fall\nbefore it. It goes directly to the _heart_, and gains all purposes at\nonce. Hence it is, that, speaking of a real genius, possessed of this\ncommanding power, Horace pronounces him, emphatically, THE POET,\n\n    _Ille per extentum funem mihi posse\n    videtur Ire_ POETA:\n\nit being more especially this property, which, of itself, discovers\nthe _true dramatist_, and secures the success of his performance, not\nonly without the assistance of _art_, but in direct opposition to its\nclearest dictates.\n\nThis power has been felt on a thousand other occasions. But its\ntriumphs were never more conspicuous, than in the famous instance of\nthe CID of P. Corneille; which, by the sole means of this enchanting\nquality, drew along with it the affections and applauses of a whole\npeople: notwithstanding the manifest transgression of some essential\nrules, the utmost tyranny of jealous power, and, what is more, in\ndefiance of all the authority and good sense of one of the justest\npieces of criticism in the French language, written purposely to\ndiscredit and expose it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n224. CUM LAMENTAMUR NON ADPARERE LABORES NOSTROS, &c.] It was remarked\nupon verse 211, that the beauties of a poem can only _appear_ by being\nfelt. And _they_, to whom they do not appear in this instance, are the\nwriter\u2019s own _friends_, who, it is not to be supposed, would disguise\ntheir _feelings_. So that the _lamentation_, here spoken of, is at once\na proof of _impertinence_ in the poet, and of the _badness_ of his\npoetry, which sets the complainant in a very ridiculous light.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n228. EGERE VETES.] The poet intended, in these words, a very just\nsatire on those presuming _wits and scholars_, who, under the pretence\nof getting above distressful _want_, in reality aspire to public\nhonours and preferments; though this be the most inexcusable of all\nfollies (to give it the softest name), which can infest a man of\nletters: Both, because experience, on which a wise man would chuse to\nregulate himself, is contrary to these hopes; and, because if literary\nmerit could succeed in them, the _Reward_, as the poet speaks,\n\n          _would either bring\n    No joy, or be destructive of the thing_:\n\nThat is, the learned would either have no relish for the delights of\nso widely different a situation; or, which hath oftener been the case,\nwould lose the learning itself, or the _love_ of it at least, on which\ntheir pretensions to this _reward_ are founded.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n232. GRATUS ALEXANDRO REGI MAGNO &c.] This praise of Augustus,\narising from the comparison of his character with that of Alexander,\nis extremely fine. It had been observed of the Macedonian by his\nhistorians and panegyrists, that, to the stern virtues of the\n_conqueror_, he had joined the softer accomplishments of the\n_virtuoso_, in a just discernment and love of _poetry_, and of the\n_elegant arts_. The one was thought clear from his admiration and\nstudy of Homer: And the _other_, from his famous edict concerning\nApelles and Lysippus, could not be denied. Horace finds means to turn\nboth these circumstances in his story to the advantage of his prince.\n\nFrom his extravagant pay of such a wretched versifier, as _Choerilus_,\nhe would insinuate, that Alexander\u2019s love of the muse was, in fact, but\na blind unintelligent impulse towards _glory_. And from his greater\nskill in the arts of _sculpture_ and _painting_, than of _verse_, he\nrepresents him as more concerned about the _drawing_ of his figure,\nthan the pourtraiture of his _manners_ and _mind_. Whereas Augustus,\nby his liberalities to _Varius_ and _Virgil_, had discovered the\ntruest taste in the _art_, from which he expected immortality: and,\nin trusting to _that_, as the _chief_ instrument of his fame, had\nconfessed a prior regard to those _mental virtues_, which are the\nreal ornament of humanity, before that _look of terror_, and _air and\nattitude of victory_, in which the brute violence of Alexander most\ndelighted to be shewn.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n243. MUSARUM DONA] The expression is happy; as implying, that these\n_images_ of virtue, which are represented as of such importance to the\nglory of princes, are not the mere _offerings_ of poetry to greatness,\nbut the _free-gifts_ of the muse to the poet. For it is only to such\n_works_, as these, that Horace attributes the wondrous efficacy of\nexpressing the _manners and mind_ in fuller and more durable relief,\nthan _sculpture_ gives to the _exterior figure_.\n\n    _Non magis expressi vultus per a\u00ebnea signa,\n    Quam per vatis opus mores animique virorum\n    Clarorum adparent._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n247.\u2014VIRGILIUS.] Virgil is mentioned, in this place, simply as a\n_Poet_. The precise idea of his _poetry_ is given us elsewhere.\n\n          _molle atque facetum\n    Virgilio annuerunt gaudentes rure Camoenae._\n                                        1 Sat. x. 44.\n\nBut this may appear a strange praise of the sweet and polished Virgil.\nIt appeared so to Quinctilian, who cites this passage, and explains it,\nwithout doubt, very justly, yet in such a way as shews that he was not\nquite certain of the truth of his explanation.\n\nThe case, I believe, was this. The word _facetum_, which makes\nthe difficulty, had acquired, in Quinctilian\u2019s days, the sense of\n_pleasant_, _witty_, or _facetious_, _in exclusion_ to every other\nidea, which had formerly belonged to it. It is true that, in the\nAugustan age, and still earlier, _facetum_ was sometimes used in this\nsense. But its proper and original meaning was no more than _exact_,\n_factitatum, ben\u00e8 factum_. And in this strict sense, I believe, it is\nalways used by Horace.\n\n    _Malthinus tunicis demissis ambulat: est qui\n    Inguen ad obscoenum subductis usque facetus._\n                                        1 S. ii. 25.\n\ni. e. _tucked up, trim, expedite_.\n\n    _Mutatis tant\u00f9m pedibus numerisque facetus._\n                                         1 S. iv. 7.\n\ni. e. he [Lucilius] adopted a _stricter_ measure, than the writers\nof the old comedy; or, by changing the loose iambic to the Hexameter\nverse, he gave a proof of his _art_, _skill_, and _improved judgment_.\n\n              _frater, pater, adde;\n    Ut cuique est aetas, ita quemque facetus adopta._\n                                        1. Ep. vi. 55.\n\ni. e. _nicely_ and _accurately_ adapt your address to the age and\ncondition of each.\n\nI do not recollect any other place where _facetus_ is used by Horace;\nand in all these it seems probable to me that the principal idea,\nconveyed by it, is that of _care_, _art_, _skill_, only differently\nmodified according to the subject to which it is applied: a gown tucked\nup _with care_\u2014a measure _studiously_ affected\u2014an address _nicely_\naccommodated\u2014No thought of _ridicule_ or _pleasantry_ intended.\n\nIt is the same in the present instance\u2014\n\n  MOLLE ATQUE FACETUM\n\ni. e. _a soft flowing versification_, and _an exquisitely finished\nexpression_: the two precise, characteristic merits of Virgil\u2019s _rural_\npoetry.\n\nThis change, in the sense of words, is common in all languages, and\ncreeps in so gradually and imperceptibly as to elude the notice,\nsometimes, of the best critics, even in their own language. The\ntransition of ideas, in the present instance, may be traced thus.\nAs what was _wittily_ said, was most _studied_, _artificial_, and\n_exquisite_, hence in process of time _facetum_ lost its primary sense,\nand came to signify merely, _witty_.\n\nWe have a like example in our own language. A _good wit_ meant formerly\na man of good natural sense and understanding: but because what we now\ncall _wit_ was observed to be the flower and quintessence, as it were,\nof good sense, hence _a man of wit_ is now the exclusive attribute of\none who exerts his good sense in that peculiar manner.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n247. DILECTI TIBI VIRGILIUS &c.] It does honour to the memory of\nAugustus, that he bore the _affection_, here spoken of, to this amiable\npoet; who was not more distinguished from his contemporary writers\nby the force of an original, inventive genius, than the singular\nbenevolence and humanity of his character. Yet there have been critics\nof so perverse a turn, as to discover an inclination, at least, of\ndisputing both.\n\n1. Some have taken offence at his supposed unfriendly neglect of\nHorace, who, on every occasion, shewed himself so ready to lavish all\nhis praises on him. But the folly of this slander is of a piece with\nits malignity, as proceeding on the absurd fancy, that Virgil\u2019s friends\nmight as easily have slid into such works, as the Georgics and Ene\u00efs,\nas those of Horace into the various occasional poems, which employed\nhis pen.\n\nJust such another senseless suspicion hath been raised of his jealousy\nof Homer\u2019s superior glory (a vice, from which the nature of the great\npoet was singularly abhorrent), only, because he did not think fit to\ngive him the first place among the poets in _Elysium_, several hundred\nyears before he had so much as made his appearance upon _earth_.\n\nBut these petty calumnies of his _moral_ character hardly deserve\na confutation. What some greater authorities have objected to his\n_poetical_, may be thought more serious. For,\n\n2. It has been given out by some of better note among the moderns, and\nfrom thence, according to the customary influence of authority, hath\nbecome the prevailing sentiment of the generality of the learned, that\nthe great poet was more indebted for his fame to the _exactness of his\njudgment; to his industry, and a certain trick of imitation_, than to\nthe energy of natural genius; which he is thought to have possessed in\na very slender degree.\n\nThis charge is founded on the similitude, which all acknowledge,\nbetwixt his great work, the Aeneis, and the poems of Homer. But, \u201chow\nfar such similitude infers imitation; or, how far imitation itself\ninfers an inferiority of natural genius in the imitator,\u201d this hath\nnever been considered. In short the affair of _imitation_ in poetry,\nthough one of the most curious and interesting in all criticism, hath\nbeen, hitherto, very little understood: as may appear from hence,\nthat there is not, as far as I can learn, one single treatise, now\nextant, written purposely to explain it; the discourse, which the\nlearned _Menage_ intended, and which, doubtless, would have given\nlight to this matter, having never, as I know of, been made public.\nTo supply, in some measure, this loss, I have thought it not amiss to\nput together and methodize a few reflexions of my own on this subject,\nwhich (because the matter is large, and cannot easily be drawn into a\ncompass, that suits with the nature of these occasional remarks) the\nreader will find in a distinct and separate dissertation upon it[53].\n\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\nAND, now, having explained, in the best manner I could, the two famous\nEpistles of Horace to Augustus and the Pisos, it may be expected, in\nconclusion, that I should say something of the rest of our poet\u2019s\ncritical writings. For his _Sermones_ (under which general term I\ninclude his _Epistles_) are of two sorts, MORAL and CRITICAL; and,\nthough both are exquisite, the _latter_ are perhaps, in their kind,\nthe more perfect of the two; his _moral_ principles being sometimes, I\nbelieve, liable to exception, his _critical_, never.\n\nThe two pieces, illustrated in these volumes, are _strictly_ critical:\nthe _first_, being a professed criticism of the Roman drama; and the\n_last_, in order to their vindication, of the Roman poets. The rest of\nhis works, which turn upon this subject of criticism, may be rather\ntermed _Apologetical_. They are the IV^{th} and X^{th} of the FIRST,\nand I^{st} of the SECOND book of Satires; and the XIX^{th} of the\nFIRST, and, in part, the II^{d} of the SECOND book of Epistles.\n\nIn _these_, the poet has THREE great objects; one or other of which he\nnever loses sight of, and generally he prosecutes them all together,\nin the same piece. These objects are, 1. to vindicate the way of\nwriting in satire. 2. To justify his opinion of a favourite writer of\nthis class, the celebrated Lucilius. And 3. to expose the careless and\nincorrect composition of the Roman writers.\n\nHe was himself deeply concerned in these three articles; so that he\nmakes his own apology at the same time that he criticizes or censures\nothers. The _address_ of the poet\u2019s manner will be seen by bearing in\nmind this general purpose of his critical poetry. How he came to be\n_engaged_ in this controversy, will best appear from a few observations\non the state of the Roman learning, when he undertook to contribute his\npains to the improvement of it.\n\nI have, in the introduction to the first of these volumes, given a\nslight sketch of the rise and progress of the Roman satire. This poem,\nwas purely of Roman invention: _first of all_, struck out of the old\nfescennine farce, and rudely cultivated, by Ennius: _Next_, more\nhappily treated, and enriched with the best part of the old comedy,\nby Lucilius: And, after some succeeding essays, taken up and finally\nadorned, by Horace.\n\nHORACE was well known to the public by his lyric compositions, and\nstill more perhaps by his favour at court, when he took upon him to\ncorrect the manners and taste of his age, by his _Lucilian Satires_.\nBut, here, he encountered, at once, many prejudices; and all his own\ncredit, together with that of his court-friends, was little enough to\nsupport him, against the torrent.\n\nFIRST, the kind of writing itself was sure to give offence. For, though\nmen were well enough pleased to have their natural malignity gratified\nby an old poet\u2019s satire against a _former_ age, yet they were naturally\nalarmed at the exercise of this talent upon their _own_, and, as it\nmight chance, upon themselves.\n\nThe poet\u2019s eminence, and favour, would, besides, give a peculiar\nforce and _effect_ to his censures, so that all who found, or thought\nthemselves liable to them, were concerned, in interest, to discredit\nthe attempt, and blast his rising reputation.\n\n    _Omnes hi metuunt versus, odere_ POETAM.\n\nHence, he was constrained to stand upon his own defence, and to\nvindicate, as well the thing itself, as his management of it, to the\ntender and suspicious public.\n\nBut this was not all: For, SECONDLY, an old satirist, of high birth\nand quality, LUCILIUS, was considered, not only as an able writer of\nthis class, but as a perfect model in it; and of course, therefore,\nthis new satirist would be much decried and undervalued, on the\ncomparison. This circumstance obliged the poet to reduce this admired\nwriter to his real value; which could not be done without thwarting\nthe general admiration, and pointing out his vices and defects in the\nfreest manner. This perilous task he discharged in the IV^{th} satire\nof his first book, and with such rigour of criticism, that not only the\npartizans of Lucilius, in the poet\u2019s own age, but the most knowing and\ncandid critics of succeeding times, were disposed to complain of it.\nHowever, the obnoxious step had been taken; and nothing remained but to\njustify himself, as he hath done at large, in his X^{th} satire.\n\nOn the whole, in comparing what he has said in these two satires\nwith what Quinctilian long after observed on the subject of them,\nthere seems no reason to conclude, that the poet judged ill; though\nhe expressed his judgment in such terms as he would, no doubt, have\nsomething softened (out of complaisance to the general sentiment,\nand a becoming deference to the real merits of his master), if his\nadversaries had been more moderate in urging their charge, or if the\noccasion had not been so pressing.\n\n_Lastly_, this attack on Lucilius produced, or rather involved in\nit, a THIRD quarrel. The poet\u2019s main objection to Lucilius was his\ncareless, verbose, and hasty composition, which his admirers, no doubt,\ncalled genius, grace, and strength. This being an inveterate folly\namong his countrymen, he gives it no quarter. Through all his critical\nworks, he employs the utmost force of his wit and good sense to expose\nit: And his own writings, being at the same time supremely correct,\nafforded his enemies (which would provoke them still more) no advantage\nagainst him. Yet they attempted, as they could, to repay his perpetual\nreproaches on the popular writers for their neglect of _limae labor_,\nby objecting to him, in their turn, that what he wrote was _sine\nnervis_: and this, though they felt his _force_ themselves, and though\nanother set of men were complaining, at the same time, of his severity.\n\n    _Sunt quibus in satyr\u00e2 videor nimis_ ACER\u2014\n                        SINE NERVIS _altera quicquid\n    Composui pars esse putat, similesque meorum_\n    Mille die versus _deduci posse_\u2014\n\nHis detractors satirically alluding, in these last words, to his charge\nagainst Lucilius\u2014\n\n                                  in hor\u00e2 _saep\u00e8_ ducentos,\n    _Ut magnum_, versus _dictabat, stans pede in uno_.\n\nIt is not my purpose, in this place, to enlarge further on the\ncharacter of Lucilius, whose _wordy_ satires gave occasion to our\npoet\u2019s criticism. Several of the ancient writers speak of him\noccasionally, in terms of the highest applause; and without doubt,\nhe was a poet of distinguished merit. Yet it will hardly be thought,\nat this day, that it could be any discredit to him to be censured,\nrivalled, and excelled by Horace.\n\nWhat I have here put together is only to furnish the young reader with\nthe proper KEY to Horace\u2019s critical works, which generally turn on his\nown vindication, _against the enemies of satire_\u2014_the admirers of\nLucilius_\u2014_and the patrons of loose and incorrect composition_.\n\nIn managing these several topics, he has found means to introduce\na great deal of exquisite criticism. And though his scattered\nobservations go but a little way towards making up a complete critical\nsystem, yet they are so _luminous_, as the French speak, that is, they\nare so replete with good sense, and extend so much further than to the\ncase to which they are immediately applied, that they furnish many of\nthe principles on which such a system, if ever it be taken in hand,\nmust be constructed: And, without carrying matters too far, we may\nsafely affirm of these _Critical Discourses_, that, next to Aristotle\u2019s\nimmortal work, they are the most valuable remains of ancient art upon\nthis subject.\n\n_The End of the Notes on the Epistle to_ AUGUSTUS.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n  J. Nichols and Son, Printers,\n  Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n\n[1] [A Cross with the initials on a label\u2014I. N. R. I. a Glory above,\nand the motto below \u0395\u039a \u03a0\u0399\u03a3\u03a4\u0395\u03a9\u03a3.]\n\n[2] \u201cWe, the Bishop and Dean and Chapter and Clergy of the Church and\nDiocese of Worcester, humbly beg leave to present our dutiful respects\nto your Majesty, and to express the joy we feel on your Majesty\u2019s\narrival at this place.\n\n\u201cYour presence, Sir, gladdens the hearts of your faithful subjects,\nwherever you go. But We, the Clergy of this place, have a peculiar\ncause to rejoice in the honour vouchsafed us at this time; a time,\ndevoted to an excellent charity for the relief of a most deserving,\nthough unfortunate part of our Order. This gracious notice and\ncountenance of us at such a moment, shews, as your whole life has\ninvariably done, your zealous concern for the interests of Religion,\nand the credit of its Ministers. And we trust, Sir, that we entertain a\ndue sense of this goodness; and that we shall never be wanting in the\nmost dutiful attachment to your Majesty\u2019s sacred person, to your august\nhouse, and to your mild and beneficent government.\n\n\u201cIn our daily celebration of the sacred offices, committed to our\ncharge, we make it our fervent prayer to Almighty God, that He will\nbe pleased to take your Majesty into his special protection; and that\nyour Majesty may live long, very long, in health and honour, to be the\nblessing and the delight of all your people.\u201d\n\n[The above is the substance, and I believe the words, of my address to\nthe King at Worcester, 6th August 1788.]\n\nTo this address his Majesty was pleased to return an answer, very\ngracious, personally, to the Bishop himself, and expressive of the\nhighest regard for the Clergy of the Established Church.\n\n                                                            R. W.\n\n[3] [Edward Foley, Esq. Member of Parliament for the County, and\nWilliam Langford, D. D. late Prebendary of Worcester.]\n\n[4] The Reverend Mr. BUDWORTH, Head-Master of the Grammar School at\nBREWOOD, in Staffordshire. He died in 1745.\n\n[5] Satyra h\u00e6c est in sui s\u00e6culi poetas, PR\u00c6CIPUE vero in Romanum\ndrama. Baxter.\n\n[6] Pr\u00e6f. in LIB. POET. et l. vi. p. 338.\n\n[7] _M\u00e6rorem minui_, says Tully, grieving for the loss of his daughter,\n_dolorem nec potui, nec, si possem_, VELLEM. [Ep. ad Att. xii. 28.] A\nstriking picture of real grief!\n\n[8]\n\n    _Vel tibi composita cantetur_ EPISTOLA _voce_;\n      IGNOTUM HOC ALIIS ILLE NOVAVIT OPUS.\n                         ART. AMAT. l. iii. v. 345.\n\n[9] J. Scaliger says, _Epistolas, Gr\u00e6corum more, Phocylid\u00e6 atque\nTheognidis_ [Horatius] _scripsit: pr\u00e6ceptis philosophi\u00e6 divulsis\nminimeque inter se coh\u00e6rentibus_. And of _this_ Epistle, in particular,\nhe presumes to say, _De Arte qu\u00e6res quid sentiam. Quid? Equidem quod de\nArte sine arte tradit\u00e2._ And to the same purpose another great Critic;\n_Non solum antiquorum \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u1fc6\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 in moralibus hoc habuere, ut \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03b8\u03af\u03b1\u03bd\nnon servarent, sed etiam alia de quibuscunque rebus pr\u00e6cepta. Sic\nEpistola Horatii ad Pisones de Po\u00ebtic\u00e2 perpetuum ordinem seriemque_\nNULLAM _habet; sed ab uno pr\u00e6cepto ad aliud transilit, quamvis_ NULLA\n_sit materi\u00e6 affinitas ad sensum connectendum._ [Salmasii Not. in\nEpictetum et Simplicium, p. 13. _Lugd. Bat._ 1640.]\n\n[10] See _Victor. Comm. in Dem. Phaler._ p. 73. _Florent._ 1594.\n\n[11] The reader may see a fine speech in the Cyrop\u00e6dia of Xenophon [l.\niv.] where not so much as this is observed.\n\n[12] See _Robert Stephens\u2019s Fragm. Vet. Latinorum_.\n\n[13] Sir _Philip Sidney_.\n\n[14] _Quel avantage ne peut il [le po\u00ebte] pas tirer d\u2019une troupe\nd\u2019acteurs, qui remplissent sa scene, qui rendent plus sensible la\ncontinuit\u00e9 de l\u2019action, et qui la font paroitre_ VRAISEMBLABLE,\n_puisqu\u2019il n\u2019est pas naturel qu\u2019elle se passe sans temoins. On ne sent\nque trop le vuide de notre Th\u00e9atre sans ch\u0153urs, &c._ [Le Th\u00e9atre des\nGrecs, vol. i. p. 105.]\n\n[15] See also to the same purpose P. Corneille\u2019s _Exam. sur la Med\u00e9e_.\nIf the objection, made by these critics, to the part of the chorus, be,\n_the improbability_, as was explained at large in the preceding note,\n_of a slave\u2019s taking the side of virtue against the pleasure of his\ntyrant_, the manifest difference of the two cases will shew it to be\nwithout the least foundation. For 1. the chorus in the Medea consists\nof women, whom compassion and a secret jealousy and indignation at so\nflagrant an instance of the violated faith of marriage, attach, by\nthe most natural connexion of interests, to the cause and person of\nthe injured queen. In the Antigone, it is composed of old courtiers,\ndevoted, by an habitude of slavery, to the will of a master, assembled,\nby his express appointment, as creatures of his tyranny, and, prompted,\nby no strong movements of self-love, to take part against him. 2. In\nthe Antigone, the part of Creon is _principal_. Every step, in the\nprogress of the play, depends so immediately upon him, that he is\nalmost constantly upon the stage. No reflexions could therefore be made\nby the chorus, nor any part against him be undertaken, but directly\nin his presence, and at their own manifest hazard. The very reverse\nof this is the case in the Medea. Creon is there but a subaltern\nperson\u2014has a very small part assigned him in the conduct of the\nplay\u2014is, in fact, introduced upon the stage but in one single scene.\nThe different situation of the chorus, resulting from hence, gives\noccasion for the widest difference in their conduct. They may speak\ntheir resentments freely. Unawed by the frowns and menaces of their\ntyrant, they are left at liberty to follow the suggestions of virtue.\nNothing here offends against the law of probability, or, in the least,\ncontradicts the reasoning about the chorus in the Antigone.\n\n[16] See note on v. 127.\n\n[17] _For her own sake_, as is pleaded, _and in obedience to the laws_,\n\n    \u03a3\u03ad \u03c4\u2019 \u1f60\u03c6\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03b8\u03ad\u03bb\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1, \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 \u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd\n    \u039e\u03c5\u03bb\u03bb\u03b1\u03bc\u03b2\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1, \u03b4\u03c1\u1fb7\u03bd \u03c3\u2019 \u1f00\u03c0\u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03ad\u03c0\u03c9 \u03c4\u03ac\u03b4\u03b5.\n                                  v. 812.\n\nwhich shews, that the other murders were not against the spirit of the\nlaws, whatever became of the letter of them.\n\n[18] P. Brumoy, Disc. sur le parall. des Theat. p. 165. Amst. 1732.\n\n[19] _Imitations of Horace_ by Thomas Nevile, M. A. Fellow of Jesus\nCollege, Cambridge, 1758.\n\n[20] There is a considerable difference in the copies of this ode, as\ngiven us in the best editions of Athen\u00e6us and Diogenes Laertius. But\nthe SIXTH verse is, in all of them, so inexplicable, in respect of the\n_measure_, the _construction_, and the _sense_, that I have no doubt\nof its being extremely corrupt. In such a case one may be indulged in\nmaking conjectures. And the following one, by a learned person, exactly\nskilled in the proprieties as well as elegancies of the Greek language,\nis so reasonable, that I had almost ventured to give it a place in the\ntext.\n\nThe Poet had been celebrating v. 3. the divine _form_ of virtue; which\ninspired the Grecian youth with an invincible courage and contempt of\ndanger. It was natural therefore to conclude his panegyric with some\nsuch Epiphonema as this: \u201cSuch a passion do\u2019st thou kindle up in the\nminds of men!\u201d\n\nTo justify this passion, he next turns to the _fruits_, or advantages\nwhich virtue yields; which, he tells us, are more excellent than those\nwe receive from any other possession, whether of _wealth_, _nobility_,\nor _ease_, the three great idols of mankind. Something like this we\ncollect from the obscure glimmerings of sense that occur to us from the\ncommon reading,\n\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u03b1 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u03cc\u03bd \u03c4\u2019 \u03b5\u1f30\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd,\n    \u03a7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9, &c.\n\nBut it is plain, then, that a very material word must have dropt out of\nthe _first_ part of the line, and that there is an evident corruption\nin the _last_. In a word, the whole passage may be reformed thus,\n\n    \u03a4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf\u03bd \u1f10\u03c0\u1f76 \u03c6\u03c1\u03ad\u03bd\u2019 \u1f1c\u03a1\u03a9\u03a4\u0391 \u03b2\u03ac\u03bb\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2.\n    \u039a\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03a6\u0395\u03a1\u0395\u0399\u03a3 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ac\u03bd\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\n    \u03a7\u03c1\u03c5\u03c3\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03ba\u03c1\u03ad\u03c3\u03c3\u03c9 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03ad\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u039c\u03b1\u03bb\u03b1\u03ba\u03b1\u03c5\u03b3\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03cc \u03b8\u2019 \u1f55\u03c0\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5.\n\nIt need not be observed how easily \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd \u03a4\u0395\u0395\u0399\u03a3 is changed into \u03ba\u03b1\u03c1\u03c0\u1f78\u03bd\n\u03a6\u0395\u03a1\u0395\u0399\u03a3: And as to the restored word \u1f14\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b1, besides the necessity of\nit to complete the sense, it exactly suits with \u03c3\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03cc\u03b8\u03bf\u03b9\u03c2 in v.\n12. Lastly, the _measure_ will now sufficiently justify itself to the\nlearned reader.\n\n[21] _Agite, fugite, quatite, Satyri_: A verse cited from one of these\nLatin satyrs by Marius Victorinus.\n\n[22] This, I think, must be the interpretation of _sensibus celebrem_,\nsupposing it to be the true reading. But a learned critic has shewn\nwith great appearance of reason, that the text is corrupt and should\nbe reformed into _sensibus_ CELEREM. According to which reading the\nencomium here past on Pomponius must be understood of his _Wit_, and\nnot the gravity of his moral Sentences. Either way his title to the\nhonour of Invention is just the same.\u2014See a Specimen of a new Edition\nof Paterculus in BIBLIOTHEQUE BRITANNIQUE, _Juillet, &c._ 1736.\n\n[23] In the library of Emmanuel College, Cambridge.\n\n[24] Mr. Hume, OF SIMPLICITY AND REFINEMENT.\n\n[25] And no wonder, when, as Suetonius tells us, the emperor himself\nwas so delighted with the old comedy. [c. 89.]\n\n[26] This is further confirmed from Lucian, who, in the description\nof a splendid feast in his \u0391\u039b\u0395\u039a\u03a4\u03a1\u03a5\u03a9\u039d, and in the _Symposium of his_\n\u039b\u0391\u03a0\u0399\u0398\u0391\u0399, brings in the \u0393\u0395\u039b\u03a9\u03a4\u039f\u03a0\u039f\u0399\u039f\u0399 as necessary attendants on the\nentertainment.\u2014But the reader will not take what is said of the _fine\nsatyr_ of Xenophon\u2019s Symposium, who hath not observed, that this\nsort of compositions, which were in great credit with the ancients,\nare of the nature of dramas, \u0397\u0398\u0399\u039a\u039f\u0399 \u039b\u039f\u0393\u039f\u0399, as Aristotle would call\nthem. In which the dialogists, who are real personages as in the _old\ncomedy_, give a lively, and sometimes exaggerated expression of their\nown characters. Under this _idea_ of a Symposium we are prepared to\nexpect _bad_ characters as well as _good_. Nothing in the _kind_\nof composition itself confined the writer to the _latter_; and the\ndecorum of a _festal conversation_, which, in a republic especially,\nwould have a mixture of satyr in it, seemed to demand the _former_.\nWe see then the undoubted purpose of Xenophon in the persons of his\nJESTER and SYRACUSIAN; and of Plato, in those of ARISTOPHANES and some\nothers. Where we may further take notice, that, to prevent the abuse\nand misconstruction, to which these personated discourses are ever\nliable, Socrates is brought in to correct the looseness of them, in\nboth dialogues, and in some measure doth the office of the dramatic\nchorus, BONIS FAVENDI. But it is the less strange that the moderns\nhave not apprehended the genius of these _Symposia_, when Athen\u00e6us,\nwho professedly criticises them, and one would think, had a better\nopportunity of knowing their real character, hath betrayed the grossest\nignorance about them.\u2014I can but just hint these things, which might\nafford curious matter for a dissertation. But enough is said to let the\nintelligent reader into the true secret of these _convivial dialogues_,\nand to explane the ground of the encomium here passed upon _one_ of\nthem.\n\n[27] \u201cL\u2019\u00e9tude \u00e9gale des po\u00ebtes de diff\u00e9rens tems \u00e0 plaire \u00e0 leurs\nspectateurs, a encore influ\u00e9 dans la maniere de peindre les characters.\nCeux qui paroissent sur la scene Angloise, Espagnole, Fran\u00e7oise, sont\nplus Anglois, Espagnols, ou Fran\u00e7ois que Grecs ou Romains, en un mot\nque ce qu\u2019ils doivent \u00eatre. Il ne faut qu\u2019en peu discernement pour\ns\u2019appercevoir que nos C\u00e9sars et nos Achilles, en gardant m\u00eame une\npartie de leur caractere primitif, prennent droit de naturalit\u00e9 dans le\npa\u00efs o\u00f9 ils sont transplantez, semblables \u00e0 ces portraits, qui sortent\nde la main d\u2019un peintre Flamand, Italien, ou Fran\u00e7ois, et qui portent\nl\u2019empreinte du pa\u00efs. On veut plaire \u00e0 sa nation, et rien ne plait tant\nque la resemblance de manieres et de genie.\u201d [P. Brumoy, vol. i. p.\n200.]\n\n[28] DIONYS. HALICARN. EP. AD C. POMP. p. 205. _Edit. Huds._\n\n[29] In conformity with the _Antique_. _Nec enim Phidias, cum faceret\nJovis formam aut Minerv\u00e6, contemplabatur aliquem e quo similitudinem\nduceret: sed ipsius in mente incidebat_ species pulchritudinis eximia\nqu\u00e6dam, _quam intuens in eaque defixus ad illius similitudinem artem et\nmanum dirigebat_ [Cic. Orat. 2.]\n\n[30] Sir _William Temple_.\n\n[31] \u1f3c\u03a9\u039d.\n\n[32] Pope\u2019s Works, vol. V. p. 244. 8^{vo}.\n\n[33] Quinctilian, lib. xi. c. 1.\n\n[34] \u0398\u03b5\u1ff7 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae\u03c4\u1ff3 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b9\u03b3\u03c1\u03ac\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2. Though, to complete the farce, it was\nwith the greatest shyness and reluctance, that the humility of these\nlords of the universe could permit itself to accept the ensigns of\ndeity, as the court-historians of those times are forward to inform\nus. An affectation, which was thought to sit so well upon them, that\nwe find it afterwards practised, in the absurdest and most impudent\nmanner, by the worst of their successors.\n\n[35] See a learned and accurate dissertation on the subject in HIST. DE\nL\u2019ACAD. DES INSCR. &c. tom. i.\n\n[36] DIV. LEG. vol. i. B. ii. S. 4.\n\n[37] In these lines,\n\n    _Mox tamen ardentes accingar dicere pugnas\n    Caesaris, et nomen fam\u00e2 tot ferre per annos,\n    Tithoni prim\u00e2 quot abest ab origine Caesar_.\n\nWhich I suspect not to have been from the hand of Virgil. And,\n\nI. On account of some _peculiarities in the expression_.\n\n1. _Accingar_ is of frequent use in the best authors, to denote _a\nreadiness and resolution to do any thing_; but as joined with an\n_infinitive mood_, _accingar dicere_, I do not remember to have ever seen\nit. \u2019Tis often used by Virgil, but, if the several places be consulted,\nit will always be found with an _accusative_ and _preposition_,\nexpressed, or understood, as _magicas accingier artes_,\nor with an _accusative_ and _dative_, as _accingere se praedae_, or\nlastly, with an _ablative_, expressing the _instrument_, as _accingor\nferro_. LA CERDA, in his notes upon the place, seemed sensible of the\nobjection, and therefore wrote, _Graeca locutio_: the common, but\npaltry, shift of learned critics, when they determine, at any rate, to\nsupport an ancient reading.\n\n2. _Ardentes pugnas_, _burning battles_, sounds well enough to a modern\near, but I much doubt, if it would have passed in the times of Virgil.\nAt least, I recollect no such expression in all his works; _ardens_\nbeing constantly joined to a word, denoting a _substance_ of apparent\n_light_, _heat_, or _flame_, to which the allusion is easy, as\n_ardentes gladios_, _ardentes oculos_, _campos armis sublimibus ardentes_,\nand, by an easy metaphor, _ardentes hostes_, but no where, that I can\nfind, to so _abstract_ a notion, as that of _fight_. It seems to be to\navoid this difficulty, that some have chosen to read _ardentis_, in the\n_genitive_, which yet Servius rejects as of no authority.\n\n3. But the most glaring note of illegitimacy is in the line,\n\n    _Tithoni prim\u00e2 quot abest ab origine Caesar_.\n\nIt has puzzled all the commentators from old Servius down to the\nlearned Mr. Martyn, to give any tolerable account of the poet\u2019s choice\nof _Tithonus_, from whom to derive the ancestry of Augustus, rather\nthan _Anchises_, or _Assaracus_, who were not only more famous, but\nin the _direct_ line. The pretences of any or all of them are too\nfrivolous to make it necessary to spend a thought about them. The\ninstance stands single in antiquity: much less is there any thing like\nit to be found in the Augustan poets.\n\nII. But the _phraseology_ of these lines is the least of my objection.\nWere it ever so accurate, there is besides, on the first view, a\nmanifest absurdity in the _subject-matter_ of them. For would any\nwriter, of but common skill in the art of composition, close a long\nand elaborate allegory, the principal grace of which consists in its\nvery mystery, with a cold, and formal explanation of it? Or would he\npay so poor a compliment to his patron, as to suppose his sagacity\nwanted the assistance of this additional triplet to lead him into the\ntrue meaning? Nothing can be more abhorrent from the usual address and\nartifice of Virgil\u2019s manner. Or,\n\nIII. Were the _subject-matter_ itself passable, yet, how, in defiance\nof all the laws of _disposition_, came it to be _forced_ in here? Let\nthe reader turn to the passage, and he will soon perceive, that this\ncould never be the _place_ for it. The allegory being concluded, the\npoet returns to his subject, which is proposed in the six following\nlines:\n\n    _Intere\u00e0 Dryadum sylvas, saltusque sequamur\n    Intactos, tua, Maecenas, haud mollia jussa;\n    Te sine nil altum mens inchoat: en age segnes\n    Rumpe moras; vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron,\n    Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum,\n    Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata remugit_.\n\nWould now any one expect, that the poet, after having conducted the\nreader, thus respectfully, to the very threshold of his subject, should\nimmediately run away again to the point, from which he had set out, and\nthis on so needless an errand, as the letting him into the secret of\nhis allegory?\n\nBut this inserted triplet agrees as ill with what _follows_, as with\nwhat _precedes_ it. For how abrupt is the transition, and unlike the\ndelicate connexion, so studiously contrived by the Augustan poets, from\n\n    _Tithoni prim\u00e2 quot abest ab origine Caesar_.\n\nto\n\n    _Seu quis Olympiacae miratus praemia palmae_, &c.\n\nWhen omit but these interpolated lines, and see how gracefully, and by\nhow natural a succession of ideas, the poet slides into the main of his\nsubject.\u2014\n\n    _Intere\u00e0 Dryadum silvas saltusque sequamur\n    Intactos\u2014\n    Te sine nil\u2014\n    Rumpe moras: vocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron\n    Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus_ EQUORUM,\n    _Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata_ REMUGIT.\n      _Seu quis Olympiacae miratus praemia palmae\n    Pascit_ EQUOS; _seu quis fortes ad aratra_ JUVENCOS.\n\nOn the whole, I have not the least doubt, that the lines before us\nare the spurious offspring of some _later poet_; if indeed the writer\nof them deserve that name; for, whoever he was, he is so far from\npartaking of the original spirit of Virgil, that, at most he appears\nto have been but a servile and paltry mimic of Ovid; from the opening\nof whose Metamorphosis the design was clearly taken. The turn of\nthe thought is evidently the same in both, and even the expression.\n_Mutatas dicere formas_ is echoed by _ardentes dicere pugnas_: _dicere\nfert animus_, is, by an affected improvement, _accingar dicere_: and\n_Tithoni prim\u00e2 ab origine_ is almost literally the same as _prim\u00e2que\nab origine mundi_. For the _insertion_ of these lines in this place,\nI leave it to the curious to conjecture of it, as they may: but in\nthe mean time, must esteem the office of the true _critic_ to be so\nfar resembling that of the _poet_ himself, as, within some proper\nlimitations, to justify the _honest_ liberty here taken.\n\n    _Cum tabulis animum censoris sumet honesti;\n    Audebit quaecunque parum splendoris habebunt\n    Et sine pondere erunt, et honore indigne feruntur_,\n    VERBA MOVERE LOCO; QUAMVIS INVITA RECEDANT,\n    ET VERSENTUR ADHUC INTRA PENETRALIA VESTAE.\n                                [2 Ep. ii. 110.]\n\n[38] [B. ix. v. 641.]\n\n[39] _Notes on the story of Pha\u00ebton._ [v. 23.]\n\n[40] JACOBI PHILIPPI D\u2019 ORVILLE _Animadversiones in_ CHARIT. APHROD.\nlib. iv. c. 4.\n\n[41] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 325.\n\n[42] D. L. vol. ii. p. 644.\n\n[43] At inspiciamus porr\u00f2, quid alii, _quibus correctius sapit_, de hoc\nloquendi modo CENSUERINT. Agnoscunt enim, etc. p. 299.\n\n[44] Ibid.\n\n[45] v. 437.\n\n[46] Iliad, \u0393. 327.\n\n[47] N. D. ii. 64.\n\n[48] Pag. 397.\n\n[49] INST. ORAT. xi. 3.\n\n[50] There having been such wretches, as the Painter Plutarch speaks\nof\u2014\u03a7\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b5\u03c6\u03ac\u03bd\u03b7\u03c2, \u1f00\u03ba\u03bf\u03bb\u03ac\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c2 \u1f41\u03bc\u03b9\u03bb\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03b1\u03b9\u03ba\u1ff6\u03bd \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c2. De aud. Poet.\n\n[51] See an essay on the _Composition of the Antients_, by J. GEDDES,\nEsq.\n\n[52] Sir Philip Sidney.\n\n[53] Diss. III. vol. ii.\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber\u2019s Note:\n\nPoetry line numbers normalized.\n\nAll instances of a stigma (\u03db) in words have been changed to sigma tau (\u03c3\u03c4).\n\nThe original text had an alternative pi (\u03d6) at the start of a word.\nThese have been changed to the standard pi (\u03c0).\n\nInconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.]","title":"The works of Richard Hurd, volume 1 (of 8)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":99178}