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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/2615-0.txt b/2615-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df7cedf --- /dev/null +++ b/2615-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5967 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Discourses on Satire and on Epic Poetry, by +John Dryden, Edited by Henry Morley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Discourses on Satire and on Epic Poetry + + +Author: John Dryden + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: September 26, 2014 [eBook #2615] +[This file was first posted on May 21, 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DISCOURSES ON SATIRE AND ON EPIC +POETRY*** + + +Transcribed from the 1888 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY. + + * * * * * + + + + + + DISCOURSES ON SATIRE + AND ON + EPIC POETRY. + + + BY + JOHN DRYDEN. + + [Picture: Decorative graphic] + + CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED: + _LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_. + 1888. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +DRYDEN’S discourses upon Satire and Epic Poetry belong to the latter +years of his life, and represent maturer thought than is to be found in +his “Essay of Dramatic Poesie.” That essay, published in 1667, draws its +chief interest from the time when it was written. A Dutch fleet was at +the mouth of the Thames. Dryden represents himself taking a boat down +the river with three friends, one of them his brother-in-law Sir Robert +Howard, another Sir Charles Sedley, and another Charles Sackville Lord +Buckhurst to whom, as Earl of Dorset, the “Discourse of Satire” is +inscribed. They go down the river to hear the guns at sea, and judge by +the sound whether the Dutch fleet be advancing or retreating. On the way +they talk of the plague of Odes that will follow an English victory; +their talk of verse proceeds to plays, with particular attention to a +question that had been specially argued before the public between Dryden +and his brother-in-law Sir Robert Howard. The question touched the use +of blank verse in the drama. Dryden had decided against it as a +worthless measure, and the chief feature of the Essay, which was written +in dialogue, was its support of Dryden’s argument. But in that year +(1667) “Paradise Lost” was published, and Milton’s blank verse was the +death of Dryden’s theories. After a few years Dryden recanted his error. +The “Essay of Dramatic Poesie” is interesting as a setting forth in 1667 +of mistaken critical opinions which were at that time in the ascendant, +but had not very long to live. Dryden always wrote good masculine prose, +and all his critical essays are good reading as pieces of English. His +“Essay of Dramatic Poesie” is good reading as illustrative of the +weakness of our literature in the days of the influence of France after +the Restoration. The essays on Satire and on Epic Poetry represent also +the influence of the French critical school, but represent it in a larger +way, with indications of its strength as well as of its weakness. They +represent also Dryden himself with a riper mind covering a larger field +of thought, and showing abundantly the strength and independence of his +own critical judgment, while he cites familiarly and frequently the +critics, little remembered and less cared for now, who then passed for +the arbiters of taste. + +If English literature were really taught in schools, and the eldest boys +had received training that brought them in their last school-year to a +knowledge of the changes of intellectual fashion that set their outward +mark upon successive periods, there is no prose writing of Dryden that +could be used by a teacher more instructively than these Discourses on +Satire and on Epic Poetry. They illustrate abundantly both Dryden and +his time, and give continuous occasion for discussion of first +principles, whether in disagreement or agreement with the text. Dryden +was on his own ground as a critic of satire; and the ideal of an epic +that the times, and perhaps also the different bent of his own genius, +would not allow him to work out, at least finds such expression as might +be expected from a man who had high aspirations, and whose place, in +times unfavourable to his highest aims, was still among the master-poets +of the world. + +The Discourse on Satire was prefixed to a translation of the satires of +Juvenal and Persius, and is dated the 18th of August, 1692, when the +poet’s age was sixty-one. In translating Juvenal, Dryden was helped by +his sons Charles and John. William Congreve translated one satire; other +translations were by Nahum Tate and George Stepney. Time modern reader +of the introductory discourse has first to pass through the unmeasured +compliments to the Earl of Dorset, which represent a real esteem and +gratitude in the extravagant terms then proper to the art of dedication. +We get to the free sea over a slimy shore. We must remember that Charles +the Second upon his death was praised by Charles Montague, who knew his +faults, as “the best good man that ever filled a throne,” and compared to +God Himself at the end of the first paragraph of Montague’s poem. But +when we are clear of the conventional unmeasured flatteries, and Dryden +lingers among epic poets on his way to the satirists, there is equal +interest in the mistaken criticisms, in the aspirations that are blended +with them, and in the occasional touches of the poet’s personality in +quiet references to his critics. The comparisons between Horace and +Juvenal in this discourse, and much of the criticism on Virgil in the +discourse on epic poetry, are the utterances of a poet upon poets, and +full of right suggestions from an artist’s mind. The second discourse +was prefixed in 1697—three years before Dryden’s death—to his translation +of the Æneid. + + H. M. + + + + +A DISCOURSE ON THE ORIGINAL AND PROGRESS OF SATIRE: + + + ADDRESSED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE + + CHARLES, EARL OF DORSET AND MIDDLESEX, + + LORD CHAMBERLAIN OF HIS MAJESTY’S HOUSEHOLD, KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE + ORDER OF THE GARTER, ETC. + +MY LORD, + +THE wishes and desires of all good men, which have attended your lordship +from your first appearance in the world, are at length accomplished, from +your obtaining those honours and dignities which you have so long +deserved. There are no factions, though irreconcilable to one another, +that are not united in their affection to you, and the respect they pay +you. They are equally pleased in your prosperity, and would be equally +concerned in your afflictions. Titus Vespasian was not more the delight +of human kind. The universal empire made him only more known and more +powerful, but could not make him more beloved. He had greater ability of +doing good, but your inclination to it is not less: and though you could +not extend your beneficence to so many persons, yet you have lost as few +days as that excellent emperor; and never had his complaint to make when +you went to bed, that the sun had shone upon you in vain, when you had +the opportunity of relieving some unhappy man. This, my lord, has justly +acquired you as many friends as there are persons who have the honour to +be known to you. Mere acquaintance you have none; you have drawn them +all into a nearer line; and they who have conversed with you are for ever +after inviolably yours. This is a truth so generally acknowledged that +it needs no proof: it is of the nature of a first principle, which is +received as soon as it is proposed; and needs not the reformation which +Descartes used to his; for we doubt not, neither can we properly say, we +think we admire and love you above all other men: there is a certainty in +the proposition, and we know it. With the same assurance I can say, you +neither have enemies, nor can scarce have any; for they who have never +heard of you can neither love or hate you; and they who have, can have no +other notion of you than that which they receive from the public, that +you are the best of men. After this, my testimony can be of no farther +use, than to declare it to be daylight at high noon: and all who have the +benefit of sight can look up as well and see the sun. + +It is true, I have one privilege which is almost particular to myself, +that I saw you in the east at your first arising above the hemisphere: I +was as soon sensible as any man of that light when it was but just +shooting out and beginning to travel upwards to the meridian. I made my +early addresses to your lordship in my “Essay of Dramatic Poetry,” and +therein bespoke you to the world; wherein I have the right of a first +discoverer. When I was myself in the rudiments of my poetry, without +name or reputation in the world, having rather the ambition of a writer +than the skill; when I was drawing the outlines of an art, without any +living master to instruct me in it—an art which had been better praised +than studied here in England; wherein Shakespeare, who created the stage +among us, had rather written happily than knowingly and justly; and +Jonson, who, by studying Horace, had been acquainted with the rules, yet +seemed to envy to posterity that knowledge, and, like an inventor of some +useful art, to make a monopoly of his learning—when thus, as I may say, +before the use of the loadstone or knowledge of the compass, I was +sailing in a vast ocean without other help than the pole-star of the +ancients and the rules of the French stage amongst the moderns (which are +extremely different from ours, by reason of their opposite taste), yet +even then I had the presumption to dedicate to your lordship—a very +unfinished piece, I must confess, and which only can be excused by the +little experience of the author and the modesty of the title—“An Essay.” +Yet I was stronger in prophecy than I was in criticism: I was inspired to +foretell you to mankind as the restorer of poetry, the greatest genius, +the truest judge, and the best patron. + +Good sense and good nature are never separated, though the ignorant world +has thought otherwise. Good nature, by which I mean beneficence and +candour, is the product of right reason; which of necessity will give +allowance to the failings of others by considering that there is nothing +perfect in mankind; and by distinguishing that which comes nearest to +excellency, though not absolutely free from faults, will certainly +produce a candour in the judge. It is incident to an elevated +understanding like your lordship’s to find out the errors of other men; +but it is your prerogative to pardon them; to look with pleasure on those +things which are somewhat congenial and of a remote kindred to your own +conceptions; and to forgive the many failings of those who, with their +wretched art, cannot arrive to those heights that you possess from a +happy, abundant, and native genius which are as inborn to you as they +were to Shakespeare, and, for aught I know, to Homer; in either of whom +we find all arts and sciences, all moral and natural philosophy, without +knowing that they ever studied them. + +There is not an English writer this day living who is not perfectly +convinced that your lordship excels all others in all the several parts +of poetry which you have undertaken to adorn. The most vain and the most +ambitions of our age have not dared to assume so much as the competitors +of Themistocles: they have yielded the first place without dispute; and +have been arrogantly content to be esteemed as second to your lordship, +and even that also with a _longo_, _sed proximi intervallo_. If there +have been, or are, any who go farther in their self-conceit, they must be +very singular in their opinion; they must be like the officer in a play +who was called captain, lieutenant, and company. The world will easily +conclude whether such unattended generals can ever be capable of making a +revolution in Parnassus. + +I will not attempt in this place to say anything particular of your lyric +poems, though they are the delight and wonder of the age, and will be the +envy of the next. The subject of this book confines me to satire; and in +that an author of your own quality, whose ashes I will not disturb, has +given you all the commendation which his self-sufficiency could afford to +any man—“The best good man, with the worst-natured muse.” In that +character, methinks, I am reading Jonson’s verses to the memory of +Shakespeare; an insolent, sparing, and invidious panegyric: where good +nature—the most godlike commendation of a man—is only attributed to your +person, and denied to your writings; for they are everywhere so full of +candour, that, like Horace, you only expose the follies of men without +arraigning their vices; and in this excel him, that you add that +pointedness of thought which is visibly wanting in our great Roman. +There is more of salt in all your verses than I have seen in any of the +moderns, or even of the ancients: but you have been sparing of the gall; +by which means you have pleased all readers and offended none. Donne +alone, of all our countrymen, had your talent, but was not happy enough +to arrive at your versification; and were he translated into numbers and +English, he would yet be wanting in the dignity of expression. That +which is the prime virtue and chief ornament of Virgil, which +distinguishes him from the rest of writers, is so conspicuous in your +verses that it casts a shadow on all your contemporaries; we cannot be +seen, or but obscurely, while you are present. You equal Donne in the +variety, multiplicity, and choice of thoughts; you excel him in the +manner and the words. I read you both with the same admiration, but not +with the same delight. He affects the metaphysics, not only in his +satires, but in his amorous verses, where Nature only should reign; and +perplexes the minds of the fair sex with nice speculations of philosophy, +when he should engage their hearts and entertain them with the softnesses +of love. In this (if I may be pardoned for so bold a truth) Mr. Cowley +has copied him to a fault: so great a one, in my opinion, that it throws +his “Mistress” infinitely below his “Pindarics” and his later +compositions, which are undoubtedly the best of his poems and the most +correct. For my own part I must avow it freely to the world that I never +attempted anything in satire wherein I have not studied your writings as +the most perfect model. I have continually laid them before me; and the +greatest commendation which my own partiality can give to my productions +is that they are copies, and no farther to be allowed than as they have +something more or less of the original. Some few touches of your +lordship, some secret graces which I have endeavoured to express after +your manner, have made whole poems of mine to pass with approbation: but +take your verses all together, and they are inimitable. If, therefore, I +have not written better, it is because you have not written more. You +have not set me sufficient copy to transcribe; and I cannot add one +letter of my own invention of which I have not the example there. + +It is a general complaint against your lordship, and I must have leave to +upbraid you with it, that, because you need not write, you will not. +Mankind that wishes you so well in all things that relate to your +prosperity, have their intervals of wishing for themselves, and are +within a little of grudging you the fulness of your fortune: they would +be more malicious if you used it not so well and with so much generosity. + +Fame is in itself a real good, if we may believe Cicero, who was perhaps +too fond of it; but even fame, as Virgil tells us, acquires strength by +going forward. Let Epicurus give indolency as an attribute to his gods, +and place in it the happiness of the blest: the Divinity which we worship +has given us not only a precept against it, but His own example to the +contrary. The world, my lord, would be content to allow you a seventh +day for rest; or, if you thought that hard upon you, we would not refuse +you half your time: if you came out, like some great monarch, to take a +town but once a year, as it were for your diversion, though you had no +need to extend your territories. In short, if you were a bad, or, which +is worse, an indifferent poet, we would thank you for our own quiet, and +not expose you to the want of yours. But when you are so great, and so +successful, and when we have that necessity of your writing that we +cannot subsist entirely without it, any more (I may almost say) than the +world without the daily course of ordinary Providence, methinks this +argument might prevail with you, my lord, to forego a little of your +repose for the public benefit. It is not that you are under any force of +working daily miracles to prove your being, but now and then somewhat of +extraordinary—that is, anything of your production—is requisite to +refresh your character. + +This, I think, my lord, is a sufficient reproach to you, and should I +carry it as far as mankind would authorise me, would be little less than +satire. And indeed a provocation is almost necessary, in behalf of the +world, that you might be induced sometimes to write; and in relation to a +multitude of scribblers, who daily pester the world with their +insufferable stuff, that they might be discouraged from writing any more. +I complain not of their lampoons and libels, though I have been the +public mark for many years. I am vindictive enough to have repelled +force by force if I could imagine that any of them had ever reached me: +but they either shot at rovers, and therefore missed; or their powder was +so weak that I might safely stand them at the nearest distance. I +answered not the “Rehearsal” because I knew the author sat to himself +when he drew the picture, and was the very Bayes of his own farce; +because also I knew that my betters were more concerned than I was in +that satire; and, lastly, because Mr. Smith and Mr. Johnson, the main +pillars of it, were two such languishing gentlemen in their conversation +that I could liken them to nothing but to their own relations, those +noble characters of men of wit and pleasure about the town. The like +considerations have hindered me from dealing with the lamentable +companions of their prose and doggerel. I am so far from defending my +poetry against them that I will not so much as expose theirs. And for my +morals, if they are not proof against their attacks, let me be thought by +posterity what those authors would be thought if any memory of them or of +their writings could endure so long as to another age. But these dull +makers of lampoons, as harmless as they have been to me, are yet of +dangerous example to the public. Some witty men may perhaps succeed to +their designs, and, mixing sense with malice, blast the reputation of the +most innocent amongst men, and the most virtuous amongst women. + +Heaven be praised, our common libellers are as free from the imputation +of wit as of morality, and therefore whatever mischief they have designed +they have performed but little of it. Yet these ill writers, in all +justice, ought themselves to be exposed, as Persius has given us a fair +example in his first Satire, which is levelled particularly at them; and +none is so fit to correct their faults as he who is not only clear from +any in his own writings, but is also so just that he will never defame +the good, and is armed with the power of verse to punish and make +examples of the bad. But of this I shall have occasion to speak further +when I come to give the definition and character of true satires. + +In the meantime, as a counsellor bred up in the knowledge of the +municipal and statute laws may honestly inform a just prince how far his +prerogative extends, so I may be allowed to tell your lordship, who by an +undisputed title are the king of poets, what an extent of power you have, +and how lawfully you may exercise it over the petulant scribblers of this +age. As Lord Chamberlain, I know, you are absolute by your office in all +that belongs to the decency and good manners of the stage. You can +banish from thence scurrility and profaneness, and restrain the +licentious insolence of poets and their actors in all things that shock +the public quiet, or the reputation of private persons, under the notion +of humour. But I mean not the authority which is annexed to your office, +I speak of that only which is inborn and inherent to your person; what is +produced in you by an excellent wit, a masterly and commanding genius +over all writers: whereby you are empowered, when you please, to give the +final decision of wit, to put your stamp on all that ought to pass for +current and set a brand of reprobation on clipped poetry and false coin. +A shilling dipped in the bath may go for gold amongst the ignorant, but +the sceptres on the guineas show the difference. That your lordship is +formed by nature for this supremacy I could easily prove (were it not +already granted by the world) from the distinguishing character of your +writing, which is so visible to me that I never could be imposed on to +receive for yours what was written by any others, or to mistake your +genuine poetry for their spurious productions. I can farther add with +truth, though not without some vanity in saying it, that in the same +paper written by divers hands, whereof your lordship’s was only part, I +could separate your gold from their copper; and though I could not give +back to every author his own brass (for there is not the same rule for +distinguishing betwixt bad and bad as betwixt ill and excellently good), +yet I never failed of knowing what was yours and what was not, and was +absolutely certain that this or the other part was positively yours, and +could not possibly be written by any other. + +True it is that some bad poems, though not all, carry their owners’ marks +about them. There is some peculiar awkwardness, false grammar, imperfect +sense, or, at the least, obscurity; some brand or other on this buttock +or that ear that it is notorious who are the owners of the cattle, though +they should not sign it with their names. But your lordship, on the +contrary, is distinguished not only by the excellency of your thoughts, +but by your style and manner of expressing them. A painter judging of +some admirable piece may affirm with certainty that it was of Holbein or +Vandyck; but vulgar designs and common draughts are easily mistaken and +misapplied. Thus, by my long study of your lordship, I am arrived at the +knowledge of your particular manner. In the good poems of other men, +like those artists, I can only say, “This is like the draught of such a +one, or like the colouring of another;” in short, I can only be sure that +it is the hand of a good master: but in your performances it is scarcely +possible for me to be deceived. If you write in your strength, you stand +revealed at the first view, and should you write under it, you cannot +avoid some peculiar graces which only cost me a second consideration to +discover you: for I may say it with all the severity of truth, that every +line of yours is precious. Your lordship’s only fault is that you have +not written more, unless I could add another, and that yet greater, but I +fear for the public the accusation would not be true—that you have +written, and out of a vicious modesty will not publish. + +Virgil has confined his works within the compass of eighteen thousand +lines, and has not treated many subjects, yet he ever had, and ever will +have, the reputation of the best poet. Martial says of him that he could +have excelled Varius in tragedy and Horace in lyric poetry, but out of +deference to his friends he attempted neither. + +The same prevalence of genius is in your lordship, but the world cannot +pardon your concealing it on the same consideration, because we have +neither a living Varius nor a Horace, in whose excellences both of poems, +odes, and satires, you had equalled them, if our language had not yielded +to the Roman majesty, and length of time had not added a reverence to the +works of Horace. For good sense is the same in all or most ages, and +course of time rather improves nature than impairs her. What has been, +may be again; another Homer and another Virgil may possible arise from +those very causes which produced the first, though it would be impudence +to affirm that any such have yet appeared. + +It is manifest that some particular ages have been more happy than others +in the production of great men in all sorts of arts and sciences, as that +of Euripides, Sophocles, Aristophanes, and the rest, for stage-poetry +amongst the Greeks; that of Augustus for heroic, lyric, dramatic, +elegiac, and indeed all sorts of poetry in the persons of Virgil, Horace, +Varius, Ovid, and many others, especially if we take into that century +the latter end of the commonwealth, wherein we find Varro, Lucretius, and +Catullus; and at the same time lived Cicero and Sallust and Cæsar. A +famous age in modern times for learning in every kind was that of Lorenzo +de Medici and his son Leo the Tenth, wherein painting was revived, and +poetry flourished, and the Greek language was restored. + +Examples in all these are obvious, but what I would infer is this—that in +such an age it is possible some great genius may arise to equal any of +the ancients, abating only for the language; for great contemporaries +whet and cultivate each other, and mutual borrowing and commerce makes +the common riches of learning, as it does of the civil government. + +But suppose that Homer and Virgil were the only of their species, and +that nature was so much worn out in producing them that she is never able +to hear the like again, yet the example only holds in heroic poetry; in +tragedy and satire I offer myself to maintain, against some of our modern +critics, that this age and the last, particularly in England, have +excelled the ancients in both those kinds, and I would instance in +Shakespeare of the former, of your lordship in the latter sort. + +Thus I might safely confine myself to my native country. But if I would +only cross the seas, I might find in France a living Horace and a Juvenal +in the person of the admirable Boileau, whose numbers are excellent, +whose expressions are noble, whose thoughts are just, whose language is +pure, whose satire is pointed and whose sense is close. What he borrows +from the ancients, he repays with usury of his own in coin as good and +almost as universally valuable: for, setting prejudice and partiality +apart, though he is our enemy, the stamp of a Louis, the patron of all +arts, is not much inferior to the medal of an Augustus Cæsar. Let this +be said without entering into the interests of factions and parties, and +relating only to the bounty of that king to men of learning and merit—a +praise so just that even we, who are his enemies, cannot refuse it to +him. + +Now if it may be permitted me to go back again to the consideration of +epic poetry, I have confessed that no man hitherto has reached or so much +as approached to the excellences of Homer or of Virgil; I must farther +add that Statius, the best versificator next to Virgil, knew not how to +design after him, though he had the model in his eye; that Lucan is +wanting both in design and subject, and is besides too full of heat and +affectation; that amongst the moderns, Ariosto neither designed justly +nor observed any unity of action, or compass of time, or moderation in +the vastness of his draught: his style is luxurious without majesty or +decency, and his adventures without the compass of nature and +possibility. Tasso, whose design was regular, and who observed the roles +of unity in time and place more closely than Virgil, yet was not so happy +in his action: he confesses himself to have been too lyrical—that is, to +have written beneath the dignity of heroic verse—in his episodes of +Sophronia, Erminia, and Armida. His story is not so pleasing as +Ariosto’s; he is too flatulent sometimes, and sometimes too dry; many +times unequal, and almost always forced; and, besides, is full of +conceits, points of epigram, and witticisms; all which are not only below +the dignity of heroic verse, but contrary to its nature: Virgil and Homer +have not one of them. And those who are guilty of so boyish an ambition +in so grave a subject are so far from being considered as heroic poets +that they ought to be turned down from Homer to the “Anthologia,” from +Virgil to Martial and Owen’s Epigrams, and from Spenser to Flecknoe—that +is, from the top to the bottom of all poetry. But to return to Tasso: he +borrows from the invention of Boiardo, and in his alteration of his poem, +which is infinitely for the worse, imitates Homer so very servilely that +(for example) he gives the King of Jerusalem fifty sons, only because +Homer had bestowed the like number on King Priam; he kills the youngest +in the same manner; and has provided his hero with a Patroclus, under +another name, only to bring him back to the wars when his friend was +killed. The French have performed nothing in this kind which is not far +below those two Italians, and subject to a thousand more reflections, +without examining their “St. Louis,” their “Pucelle,” or their “Alaric.” +The English have only to boast of Spenser and Milton, who neither of them +wanted either genius or learning to have been perfect poets; and yet both +of them are liable to many censures. For there is no uniformity in the +design of Spenser; he aims at the accomplishment of no one action; he +raises up a hero for every one of his adventures, and endows each of them +with some particular moral virtue, which renders them all equal, without +subordination or preference: every one is most valiant in his own legend: +only we must do him that justice to observe that magnanimity, which is +the character of Prince Arthur, shines throughout the whole poem, and +succours the rest when they are in distress. The original of every +knight was then living in the court of Queen Elizabeth, and he attributed +to each of them that virtue which he thought was most conspicuous in +them—an ingenious piece of flattery, though it turned not much to his +account. Had he lived to finish his poem in the six remaining legends, +it had certainly been more of a piece; but could not have been perfect, +because the model was not true. But Prince Arthur, or his chief patron +Sir Philip Sidney, whom he intended to make happy by the marriage of his +Gloriana, dying before him, deprived the poet both of means and spirit to +accomplish his design. For the rest, his obsolete language and the ill +choice of his stanza are faults but of the second magnitude; for, +notwithstanding the first, he is still intelligible—at least, after a +little practice; and for the last, he is the more to be admired that, +labouring under such a difficulty, his verses are so numerous, so various +and so harmonious, that only Virgil, whom he professedly imitated, has +surpassed him among the Romans, and only Mr. Waller among the English. + +As for Mr. Milton, whom we all admire with so much justice, his subject +is not that of an heroic poem, properly so called. His design is the +losing of our happiness; his event is not prosperous, like that of all +other epic works; his heavenly machines are many, and his human persons +are but two. But I will not take Mr. Rymer’s work out of his hands: he +has promised the world a critique on that author wherein, though he will +not allow his poem for heroic, I hope he will grant us that his thoughts +are elevated, his words sounding, and that no man has so happily copied +the manner of Homer, or so copiously translated his Grecisms and the +Latin elegances of Virgil. It is true, he runs into a flat of thought, +sometimes for a hundred lines together, but it is when he has got into a +track of Scripture. His antiquated words were his choice, not his +necessity; for therein he imitated Spenser, as Spencer did Chaucer. And +though, perhaps, the love of their masters may have transported both too +far in the frequent use of them, yet in my opinion obsolete words may +then be laudably revived when either they are more sounding or more +significant than those in practice, and when their obscurity is taken +away by joining other words to them which clear the sense—according to +the rule of Horace for the admission of new words. But in both cases a +moderation is to be observed in the use of them; for unnecessary coinage, +as well as unnecessary revival, runs into affectation—a fault to be +avoided on either hand. Neither will I justify Milton for his blank +verse, though I may excuse him by the example of Hannibal Caro and other +Italians who have used it; for, whatever causes he alleges for the +abolishing of rhyme (which I have not now the leisure to examine), his +own particular reason is plainly this—that rhyme was not his talent; he +had neither the ease of doing it, nor the graces of it: which is manifest +in his “Juvenilia” or verses written in his youth, where his rhyme is +always constrained and forced, and comes hardly from him, at an age when +the soul is most pliant, and the passion of love makes almost every man a +rhymer, though not a poet. + +By this time, my lord, I doubt not but that you wonder why I have run off +from my bias so long together, and made so tedious a digression from +satire to heroic poetry; but if you will not excuse it by the tattling +quality of age (which, as Sir William Davenant says, is always +narrative), yet I hope the usefulness of what I have to say on this +subject will qualify the remoteness of it; and this is the last time I +will commit the crime of prefaces, or trouble the world with my notions +of anything that relates to verse. I have then, as you see, observed the +failings of many great wits amongst the moderns who have attempted to +write an epic poem. Besides these, or the like animadversions of them by +other men, there is yet a farther reason given why they cannot possibly +succeed so well as the ancients, even though we could allow them not to +be inferior either in genius or learning, or the tongue in which they +write, or all those other wonderful qualifications which are necessary to +the forming of a true accomplished heroic poet. The fault is laid on our +religion; they say that Christianity is not capable of those +embellishments which are afforded in the belief of those ancient +heathens. + +And it is true that in the severe notions of our faith the fortitude of a +Christian consists in patience, and suffering for the love of God +whatever hardships can befall in the world—not in any great attempt, or +in performance of those enterprises which the poets call heroic, and +which are commonly the effects of interest, ostentation, pride, and +worldly honour; that humility and resignation are our prime virtues; and +that these include no action but that of the soul, whereas, on the +contrary, an heroic poem requires to its necessary design, and as its +last perfection, some great action of war, the accomplishment of some +extraordinary undertaking, which requires the strength and vigour of the +body, the duty of a soldier, the capacity and prudence of a general, and, +in short, as much or more of the active virtue than the suffering. But +to this the answer is very obvious. God has placed us in our several +stations; the virtues of a private Christian are patience, obedience, +submission, and the like; but those of a magistrate or a general or a +king are prudence, counsel, active fortitude, coercive power, awful +command, and the exercise of magnanimity as well as justice. So that +this objection hinders not but that an epic poem, or the heroic action of +some great commander, enterprised for the common good and honour of the +Christian cause, and executed happily, may be as well written now as it +was of old by the heathens, provided the poet be endued with the same +talents; and the language, though not of equal dignity, yet as near +approaching to it as our modern barbarism will allow—which is all that +can be expected from our own or any other now extant, though more +refined; and therefore we are to rest contented with that only +inferiority, which is not possibly to be remedied. + +I wish I could as easily remove that other difficulty which yet remains. +It is objected by a great French critic as well as an admirable poet, yet +living, and whom I have mentioned with that honour which his merit exacts +from me (I mean, Boileau), that the machines of our Christian religion in +heroic poetry are much more feeble to support that weight than those of +heathenism. Their doctrine, grounded as it was on ridiculous fables, was +yet the belief of the two victorious monarchies, the Grecian and Roman. +Their gods did not only interest themselves in the event of wars (which +is the effect of a superior Providence), but also espoused the several +parties in a visible corporeal descent, managed their intrigues and +fought their battles, sometimes in opposition to each other; though +Virgil (more discreet than Homer in that last particular) has contented +himself with the partiality of his deities, their favours, their counsels +or commands, to those whose cause they had espoused, without bringing +them to the outrageousness of blows. Now our religion, says he, is +deprived of the greatest part of those machines—at least, the most +shining in epic poetry. Though St. Michael in Ariosto seeks out Discord +to send her amongst the Pagans, and finds her in a convent of friars, +where peace should reign (which indeed is fine satire); and Satan in +Tasso excites Soliman to an attempt by night on the Christian camp, and +brings a host of devils to his assistance; yet the Archangel in the +former example, when Discord was restive and would not be drawn from her +beloved monastery with fair words, has the whip-hand of her, drags her +out with many stripes, sets her on God’s name about her business, and +makes her know the difference of strength betwixt a nuncio of heaven and +a minister of hell. The same angel in the latter instance from Tasso (as +if God had never another messenger belonging to the court, but was +confined, like Jupiter to Mercury, and Juno to Iris), when he sees his +time—that is, when half of the Christians are already killed, and all the +rest are in a fair way to be routed—stickles betwixt the remainders of +God’s host and the race of fiends, pulls the devils backward by the +tails, and drives them from their quarry; or otherwise the whole business +had miscarried, and Jerusalem remained untaken. This, says Boileau, is a +very unequal match for the poor devils, who are sure to come by the worst +of it in the combat; for nothing is more easy than for an Almighty Power +to bring His old rebels to reason when He pleases. Consequently what +pleasure, what entertainment, can be raised from so pitiful a machine, +where we see the success of the battle from the very beginning of it? +unless that as we are Christians, we are glad that we have gotten God on +our side to maul our enemies when we cannot do the work ourselves. For +if the poet had given the faithful more courage, which had cost him +nothing, or at least have made them exceed the Turks in number, he might +have gained the victory for us Christians without interesting Heaven in +the quarrel, and that with as much ease and as little credit to the +conqueror as when a party of a hundred soldiers defeats another which +consists only of fifty. + +This, my lord, I confess is such an argument against our modern poetry as +cannot be answered by those mediums which have been used. We cannot +hitherto boast that our religion has furnished us with any such machines +as have made the strength and beauty of the ancient buildings. + +But what if I venture to advance an invention of my own to supply the +manifest defect of our new writers? I am sufficiently sensible of my +weakness, and it is not very probable that I should succeed in such a +project, whereof I have not had the least hint from any of my +predecessors the poets, or any of their seconds or coadjutors the +critics. Yet we see the art of war is improved in sieges, and new +instruments of death are invented daily. Something new in philosophy and +the mechanics is discovered almost every year, and the science of former +ages is improved by the succeeding. I will not detain you with a long +preamble to that which better judges will, perhaps, conclude to be little +worth. + +It is this, in short—that Christian poets have not hitherto been +acquainted with their own strength. If they had searched the Old +Testament as they ought, they might there have found the machines which +are proper for their work, and those more certain in their effect than it +may be the New Testament is in the rules sufficient for salvation. The +perusing of one chapter in the prophecy of Daniel, and accommodating what +there they find with the principles of Platonic philosophy as it is now +Christianised, would have made the ministry of angels as strong an engine +for the working up heroic poetry in our religion as that of the ancients +has been to raise theirs by all the fables of their gods, which were only +received for truths by the most ignorant and weakest of the people. + +It is a doctrine almost universally received by Christians, as well +Protestants as Catholics, that there are guardian angels appointed by God +Almighty as His vicegerents for the protection and government of cities, +provinces, kingdoms, and monarchies; and those as well of heathens as of +true believers. All this is so plainly proved from those texts of Daniel +that it admits of no farther controversy. The prince of the Persians, +and that other of the Grecians, are granted to be the guardians and +protecting ministers of those empires. It cannot be denied that they +were opposite and resisted one another. St. Michael is mentioned by his +name as the patron of the Jews, and is now taken by the Christians as the +protector-general of our religion. These tutelar genii, who presided +over the several people and regions committed to their charge, were +watchful over them for good, as far as their commissions could possibly +extend. The general purpose and design of all was certainly the service +of their great Creator. But it is an undoubted truth that, for ends best +known to the Almighty Majesty of Heaven, His providential designs for the +benefit of His creatures, for the debasing and punishing of some nations, +and the exaltation and temporal reward of others, were not wholly known +to these His ministers; else why those factious quarrels, controversies, +and battles amongst themselves, when they were all united in the same +design, the service and honour of their common master? But being +instructed only in the general, and zealous of the main design, and as +finite beings not admitted into the secrets of government, the last +resorts of Providence, or capable of discovering the final purposes of +God (who can work good out of evil as He pleases, and irresistibly sways +all manner of events on earth, directing them finally for the best to His +creation in general, and to the ultimate end of His own glory in +particular), they must of necessity be sometimes ignorant of the means +conducing to those ends, in which alone they can jar and oppose each +other—one angel, as we may suppose (the Prince of Persia, as he is +called), judging that it would be more for God’s honour and the benefit +of His people that the Median and Persian monarchy, which delivered them +from the Babylonish captivity, should still be uppermost; and the patron +of the Grecians, to whom the will of God might be more particularly +revealed, contending on the other side for the rise of Alexander and his +successors, who were appointed to punish the backsliding Jews, and +thereby to put them in mind of their offences, that they might repent and +become more virtuous and more observant of the law revealed. But how far +these controversies and appearing enmities of those glorious creatures +may be carried; how these oppositions may be best managed, and by what +means conducted, is not my business to show or determine: these things +must be left to the invention and judgment of the poet, if any of so +happy a genius be now living, or any future age can produce a man who, +being conversant in the philosophy of Plato as it is now accommodated to +Christian use (for, as Virgil gives us to understand by his example, that +is the only proper, of all others, for an epic poem), who to his natural +endowments of a large invention, a ripe judgment, and a strong memory, +has joined the knowledge of the liberal arts and sciences (and +particularly moral philosophy, the mathematics, geography, and history), +and with all these qualifications is born a poet, knows, and can practise +the variety of numbers, and is master of the language in which he +writes—if such a man, I say, be now arisen, or shall arise, I am vain +enough to think that I have proposed a model to him by which he may build +a nobler, a more beautiful, and more perfect poem than any yet extant +since the ancients. + +There is another part of these machines yet wanting; but by what I have +said, it would have been easily supplied by a judicious writer. He could +not have failed to add the opposition of ill spirits to the good; they +have also their design, ever opposite to that of Heaven; and this alone +has hitherto been the practice of the moderns: but this imperfect system, +if I may call it such, which I have given, will infinitely advance and +carry farther that hypothesis of the evil spirits contending with the +good. For being so much weaker since their fall than those blessed +beings, they are yet supposed to have a permitted power from God of +acting ill, as from their own depraved nature they have always the will +of designing it—a great testimony of which we find in Holy Writ, when God +Almighty suffered Satan to appear in the holy synod of the angels (a +thing not hitherto drawn into example by any of the poets), and also gave +him power over all things belonging to his servant Job, excepting only +life. + +Now what these wicked spirits cannot compass by the vast disproportion of +their forces to those of the superior beings, they may by their fraud and +cunning carry farther in a seeming league, confederacy, or subserviency +to the designs of some good angel, as far as consists with his purity to +suffer such an aid, the end of which may possibly be disguised and +concealed from his finite knowledge. This is indeed to suppose a great +error in such a being; yet since a devil can appear like an angel of +light, since craft and malice may sometimes blind for a while a more +perfect understanding; and lastly, since Milton has given us an example +of the like nature, when Satan, appearing like a cherub to Uriel, the +intelligence of the sun, circumvented him even in his own province, and +passed only for a curious traveller through those new-created regions, +that he might observe therein the workmanship of God and praise Him in +His works—I know not why, upon the same supposition, or some other, a +fiend may not deceive a creature of more excellency than himself, but yet +a creature; at least, by the connivance or tacit permission of the +Omniscient Being. + +Thus, my lord, I have, as briefly as I could, given your lordship, and by +you the world, a rude draught of what I have been long labouring in my +imagination, and what I had intended to have put in practice (though far +unable for the attempt of such a poem), and to have left the stage, to +which my genius never much inclined me, for a work which would have taken +up my life in the performance of it. This, too, I had intended chiefly +for the honour of my native country, to which a poet is particularly +obliged. Of two subjects, both relating to it, I was doubtful—whether I +should choose that of King Arthur conquering the Saxons (which, being +farther distant in time, gives the greater scope to my invention), or +that of Edward the Black Prince in subduing Spain and restoring it to the +lawful prince, though a great tyrant, Don Pedro the Cruel—which for the +compass of time, including only the expedition of one year; for the +greatness of the action, and its answerable event; for the magnanimity of +the English hero, opposed to the ingratitude of the person whom he +restored; and for the many beautiful episodes which I had interwoven with +the principal design, together with the characters of the chiefest +English persons (wherein, after Virgil and Spenser, I would have taken +occasion to represent my living friends and patrons of the noblest +families, and also shadowed the events of future ages in the succession +of our imperial line)—with these helps, and those of the machines which I +have mentioned, I might perhaps have done as well as some of my +predecessors, or at least chalked out a way for others to amend my errors +in a like design; but being encouraged only with fair words by King +Charles the Second, my little salary ill paid, and no prospect of a +future subsistence, I was then discouraged in the beginning of my +attempt; and now age has overtaken me, and want (a more insufferable +evil) through the change of the times has wholly disenabled me; though I +must ever acknowledge, to the honour of your lordship, and the eternal +memory of your charity, that since this Revolution, wherein I have +patiently suffered the ruin of my small fortune, and the loss of that +poor subsistence which I had from two kings, whom I had served more +faithfully than profitably to myself—then your lordship was pleased, out +of no other motive but your own nobleness, without any desert of mine, or +the least solicitation from me, to make me a most bountiful present, +which at that time, when I was most in want of it, came most seasonably +and unexpectedly to my relief. That favour, my lord, is of itself +sufficient to bind any grateful man to a perpetual acknowledgment, and to +all the future service which one of my mean condition can be ever able to +perform. May the Almighty God return it for me, both in blessing you +here and rewarding you hereafter! I must not presume to defend the cause +for which I now suffer, because your lordship is engaged against it; but +the more you are so, the greater is my obligation to you for your laying +aside all the considerations of factions and parties to do an action of +pure disinterested charity. This is one amongst many of your shining +qualities which distinguish you from others of your rank. But let me add +a farther truth—that without these ties of gratitude, and abstracting +from them all, I have a most particular inclination to honour you, and, +if it were not too bold an expression, to say I love you. It is no shame +to be a poet, though it is to be a bad one. Augustus Cæsar of old, and +Cardinal Richelieu of late, would willingly have been such; and David and +Solomon were such. You who, without flattery, are the best of the +present age in England, and would have been so had you been born in any +other country, will receive more honour in future ages by that one +excellency than by all those honours to which your birth has entitled +you, or your merits have acquired you. + + “_Ne fortè pudori_ + _Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers_, _et cantor Apollo_.” + +I have formerly said in this epistle that I could distinguish your +writings from those of any others; it is now time to clear myself from +any imputation of self-conceit on that subject. I assume not to myself +any particular lights in this discovery; they are such only as are +obvious to every man of sense and judgment who loves poetry and +understands it. Your thoughts are always so remote from the common way +of thinking that they are, as I may say, of another species than the +conceptions of other poets; yet you go not out of nature for any of them. +Gold is never bred upon the surface of the ground, but lies so hidden and +so deep that the mines of it are seldom found; but the force of waters +casts it out from the bowels of mountains, and exposes it amongst the +sands of rivers, giving us of her bounty what we could not hope for by +our search. This success attends your lordship’s thoughts, which would +look like chance if it were not perpetual and always of the same tenor. +If I grant that there is care in it, it is such a care as would be +ineffectual and fruitless in other men; it is the _curiosa felicitas_ +which Petronius ascribes to Horace in his odes. We have not wherewithal +to imagine so strongly, so justly, and so pleasantly: in short, if we +have the same knowledge, we cannot draw out of it the same quintessence; +we cannot give it such a turn, such a propriety, and such a beauty. +Something is deficient in the manner or the words, but more in the +nobleness of our conception. Yet when you have finished all, and it +appears in its full lustre; when the diamond is not only found, but the +roughness smoothed; when it is cut into a form and set in gold, then we +cannot but acknowledge that it is the perfect work of art and nature; and +every one will be so vain to think he himself could have performed the +like until he attempts it. It is just the description that Horace makes +of such a finished piece; it appears so easy, + + “_Ut sibi quivis_ + _Speret idem_, _sudet multum_, _frustraque laboret_, + _Ausus idem_.” + +And besides all this, it is your lordship’s particular talent to lay your +thoughts so chose together that, were they closer, they would be crowded, +and even a due connection would be wanting. We are not kept in +expectation of two good lines which are to come after a long parenthesis +of twenty bad; which is the April poetry of other writers, a mixture of +rain and sunshine by fits: you are always bright, even almost to a fault, +by reason of the excess. There is continual abundance, a magazine of +thought, and yet a perpetual variety of entertainment; which creates such +an appetite in your reader that he is not cloyed with anything, but +satisfied with all. It is that which the Romans call _cæna dubia_; where +there is such plenty, yet withal so much diversity, and so good order, +that the choice is difficult betwixt one excellency and another; and yet +the conclusion, by a due climax, is evermore the best—that is, as a +conclusion ought to be, ever the most proper for its place. See, my +lord, whether I have not studied your lordship with some application: and +since you are so modest that you will not be judge and party, I appeal to +the whole world if I have not drawn your picture to a great degree of +likeness, though it is but in miniature, and that some of the best +features are yet wanting. Yet what I have done is enough to distinguish +you from any other, which is the proposition that I took upon me to +demonstrate. + +And now, my lord, to apply what I have said to my present business: the +satires of Juvenal and Persius, appearing in this new English dress, +cannot so properly be inscribed to any man as to your lordship, who are +the first of the age in that way of writing. Your lordship, amongst many +other favours, has given me your permission for this address; and you +have particularly encouraged me by your perusal and approbation of the +sixth and tenth satires of Juvenal as I have translated them. My +fellow-labourers have likewise commissioned me to perform in their behalf +this office of a dedication to you, and will acknowledge, with all +possible respect and gratitude, your acceptance of their work. Some of +them have the honour to be known to your lordship already; and they who +have not yet that happiness, desire it now. Be pleased to receive our +common endeavours with your wonted candour, without entitling you to the +protection of our common failings in so difficult an undertaking. And +allow me your patience, if it be not already tired with this long +epistle, to give you from the best authors the origin, the antiquity, the +growth, the change, and the completement of satire among the Romans; to +describe, if not define, the nature of that poem, with its several +qualifications and virtues, together with the several sorts of it; to +compare the excellencies of Horace, Persius, and Juvenal, and show the +particular manners of their satires; and, lastly, to give an account of +this new way of version which is attempted in our performance: all which, +according to the weakness of my ability, and the best lights which I can +get from others, shall be the subject of my following discourse. + +The most perfect work of poetry, says our master Aristotle, is tragedy. +His reason is because it is the most united; being more severely confined +within the rules of action, time, and place. The action is entire of a +piece, and one without episodes; the time limited to a natural day; and +the place circumscribed at least within the compass of one town or city. +Being exactly proportioned thus, and uniform in all its parts, the mind +is more capable of comprehending the whole beauty of it without +distraction. + +But after all these advantages an heroic poem is certainly the greatest +work of human nature. The beauties and perfections of the other are but +mechanical; those of the epic are more noble. Though Homer has limited +his place to Troy and the fields about it; his actions to forty-eight +natural days, whereof twelve are holidays, or cessation from business +during the funeral of Patroclus. To proceed: the action of the epic is +greater; the extension of time enlarges the pleasure of the reader, and +the episodes give it more ornament and more variety. The instruction is +equal; but the first is only instructive, the latter forms a hero and a +prince. + +If it signifies anything which of them is of the more ancient family, the +best and most absolute heroic poem was written by Homer long before +tragedy was invented. But if we consider the natural endowments and +acquired parts which are necessary to make an accomplished writer in +either kind, tragedy requires a less and more confined knowledge; +moderate learning and observation of the rules is sufficient if a genius +be not wanting. But in an epic poet, one who is worthy of that name, +besides an universal genius is required universal learning, together with +all those qualities and acquisitions which I have named above, and as +many more as I have through haste or negligence omitted. And, after all, +he must have exactly studied Homer and Virgil as his patterns, Aristotle +and Horace as his guides, and Vida and Bossu as their commentators, with +many others (both Italian and French critics) which I want leisure here +to recommend. + +In a word, what I have to say in relation to this subject, which does not +particularly concern satire, is that the greatness of an heroic poem +beyond that of a tragedy may easily be discovered by observing how few +have attempted that work, in comparison to those who have written dramas; +and of those few, how small a number have succeeded. But leaving the +critics on either side to contend about the preference due to this or +that sort of poetry, I will hasten to my present business, which is the +antiquity and origin of satire, according to those informations which I +have received from the learned Casaubon, Heinsius, Rigaltius, Dacier, and +the Dauphin’s Juvenal, to which I shall add some observations of my own. + +There has been a long dispute among the modern critics whether the Romans +derived their satire from the Grecians or first invented it themselves. +Julius Scaliger and Heinsius are of the first opinion; Casaubon, +Rigaltius, Dacier, and the publisher of Dauphin’s Juvenal maintain the +latter. If we take satire in the general signification of the word, as +it is used in all modern languages, for an invective, it is certain that +it is almost as old as verse; and though hymns, which are praises of God, +may be allowed to have been before it, yet the defamation of others was +not long after it. After God had cursed Adam and Eve in Paradise, the +husband and wife excused themselves by laying the blame on one another, +and gave a beginning to those conjugal dialogues in prose which the poets +have perfected in verse. The third chapter of Job is one of the first +instances of this poem in Holy Scripture, unless we will take it higher, +from the latter end of the second, where his wife advises him to curse +his Maker. + +This original, I confess, is not much to the honour of satire; but here +it was nature, and that depraved: when it became an art, it bore better +fruit. Only we have learnt thus much already—that scoffs and revilings +are of the growth of all nations; and consequently that neither the Greek +poets borrowed from other people their art of railing, neither needed the +Romans to take it from them. But considering satire as a species of +poetry, here the war begins amongst the critics. Scaliger, the father, +will have it descend from Greece to Rome; and derives the word “satire” +from Satyrus, that mixed kind of animal (or, as the ancients thought him, +rural god) made up betwixt a man and a goat, with a human head, hooked +nose, pouting lips, a bunch or struma under the chin, pricked ears, and +upright horns; the body shagged with hair, especially from the waist, and +ending in a goat, with the legs and feet of that creature. But Casaubon +and his followers, with reason, condemn this derivation, and prove that +from Satyrus the word _satira_, as it signifies a poem, cannot possibly +descend. For _satira_ is not properly a substantive, but an adjective; +to which the word _lanx_ (in English a “charger” or “large platter”) is +understood: so that the Greek poem made according to the manners of a +Satyr, and expressing his qualities, must properly be called satirical, +and not satire. And thus far it is allowed that the Grecians had such +poems, but that they were wholly different in species from that to which +the Romans gave the name of satire. + +Aristotle divides all poetry, in relation to the progress of it, into +nature without art, art begun, and art completed. Mankind, even the most +barbarous, have the seeds of poetry implanted in them. The first +specimen of it was certainly shown in the praises of the Deity and +prayers to Him; and as they are of natural obligation, so they are +likewise of divine institution: which Milton observing, introduces Adam +and Eve every morning adoring God in hymns and prayers. The first poetry +was thus begun in the wild notes of natural poetry before the invention +of feet and measures. The Grecians and Romans had no other original of +their poetry. Festivals and holidays soon succeeded to private worship, +and we need not doubt but they were enjoined by the true God to His own +people, as they were afterwards imitated by the heathens; who by the +light of reason knew they were to invoke some superior being in their +necessities, and to thank him for his benefits. Thus the Grecian +holidays were celebrated with offerings to Bacchus and Ceres and other +deities, to whose bounty they supposed they were owing for their corn and +wine and other helps of life. And the ancient Romans, as Horace tells +us, paid their thanks to Mother Earth or Vesta, to Silvanus, and their +Genius in the same manner. But as all festivals have a double reason of +their institution—the first of religion, the other of recreation for the +unbending of our minds—so both the Grecians and Romans agreed (after +their sacrifices were performed) to spend the remainder of the day in +sports and merriments; amongst which songs and dances, and that which +they called wit (for want of knowing better), were the chiefest +entertainments. The Grecians had a notion of Satyrs, whom I have already +described; and taking them and the Sileni—that is, the young Satyrs and +the old—for the tutors, attendants, and humble companions of their +Bacchus, habited themselves like those rural deities, and imitated them +in their rustic dances, to which they joined songs with some sort of rude +harmony, but without certain numbers; and to these they added a kind of +chorus. + +The Romans also, as nature is the same in all places, though they knew +nothing of those Grecian demi-gods, nor had any communication with +Greece, yet had certain young men who at their festivals danced and sang +after their uncouth manner to a certain kind of verse which they called +Saturnian. What it was we have no certain light from antiquity to +discover; but we may conclude that, like the Grecian, it was void of art, +or, at least, with very feeble beginnings of it. Those ancient Romans at +these holy days, which were a mixture of devotion and debauchery, had a +custom of reproaching each other with their faults in a sort of +_extempore_ poetry, or rather of tunable hobbling verse, and they +answered in the same kind of gross raillery—their wit and their music +being of a piece. The Grecians, says Casaubon, had formerly done the +same in the persons of their petulant Satyrs; but I am afraid he mistakes +the matter, and confounds the singing and dancing of the Satyrs with the +rustical entertainments of the first Romans. The reason of my opinion is +this: that Casaubon finding little light from antiquity of these +beginnings of poetry amongst the Grecians, but only these representations +of Satyrs who carried canisters and cornucopias full of several fruits in +their hands, and danced with them at their public feasts, and afterwards +reading Horace, who makes mention of his homely Romans jesting at one +another in the same kind of solemnities, might suppose those wanton +Satyrs did the same; and especially because Horace possibly might seem to +him to have shown the original of all poetry in general (including the +Grecians as well as Romans), though it is plainly otherwise that he only +described the beginning and first rudiments of poetry in his own country. +The verses are these, which he cites from the First Epistle of the Second +Book, which was written to Augustus:— + + “_Agricolæ prisci_, _fortes_, _parvoque beati_, + _Condita post frumenta_, _levantes tempore festo_ + _Corpus_, _et ipsum animum spe finis dura ferentem_, + _Cum sociis operum_, _et pueris_, _et conjuge fidâ_, + _Tellurem porco_, _Silvanum lacte piabant_; + _Floribus et vino Genium memorem brevis ævi_. + _Fescennina per hunc inventa licentia morem_ + _Versibus alternis opprobria rustica fudit_.” + + “Our brawny clowns of old, who turned the soil, + Content with little, and inured to toil, + At harvest-home, with mirth and country cheer, + Restored their bodies for another year, + Refreshed their spirits, and renewed their hope + Of such a future feast and future crop. + Then with their fellow-joggers of the ploughs, + Their little children, and their faithful spouse, + A sow they slew to Vesta’s deity, + And kindly milk, Silvanus, poured to thee. + With flowers and wine their Genius they adored; + A short life and a merry was the word. + From flowing cups defaming rhymes ensue, + And at each other homely taunts they threw.” + +Yet since it is a hard conjecture that so great a man as Casaubon should +misapply what Horace writ concerning ancient Rome to the ceremonies and +manners of ancient Greece, I will not insist on this opinion, but rather +judge in general that since all poetry had its original from religion, +that of the Grecians and Rome had the same beginning. Both were invented +at festivals of thanksgiving, and both were prosecuted with mirth and +raillery and rudiments of verses; amongst the Greeks by those who +represented Satyrs, and amongst the Romans by real clowns. + +For, indeed, when I am reading Casaubon on these two subjects methinks I +hear the same story told twice over with very little alteration. Of +which Dacier, taking notice in his interpretation of the Latin verses +which I have translated, says plainly that the beginning of poetry was +the same, with a small variety, in both countries, and that the mother of +it in all nations was devotion. But what is yet more wonderful, that +most learned critic takes notice also, in his illustrations on the First +Epistle of the Second Book, that as the poetry of the Romans and that of +the Grecians had the same beginning at feasts and thanksgiving (as it has +been observed), and the old comedy of the Greeks (which was invective) +and the satire of the Romans (which was of the same nature) were begun on +the very same occasion, so the fortune of both in process of time was +just the same—the old comedy of the Grecians was forbidden for its too +much licence in exposing of particular persons, and the rude satire of +the Romans was also punished by a law of the Decemviri, as Horace tells +us in these words:— + + “_Libertasque recurrentes accepta per annos_ + _Lusit amabiliter_; _donec jam sævus apertam_ + _In rabiem verti cæpit jocus_, _et per honestas_ + _Ire domos impune minax_: _doluere cruento_ + _Dente lacessiti_; _fuit intactis quoque cura_ + _Conditione super communi_: _quinetiam lex_, + _Pænaque lata_, _malo quæ nollet carmine quenquam_ + _Describi_: _vertere modum_, _formidine fustis_ + _Ad benedicendum delectandumque redacti_.” + +The law of the Decemviri was this: _Siquis occentassit malum carmen_, +_sive condidissit_, _quod infamiam faxit_, _flagitiumve alteri_, _capital +esto_. A strange likeness, and barely possible; but the critics being +all of the same opinion, it becomes me to be silent and to submit to +better judgments than my own. + +But to return to the Grecians, from whose satiric dramas the elder +Scaliger and Heinsius will have the Roman satire to proceed; I am to take +a view of them first, and see if there be any such descent from them as +those authors have pretended. + +Thespis, or whoever he were that invented tragedy (for authors differ), +mingled with them a chorus and dances of Satyrs which had before been +used in the celebration of their festivals, and there they were ever +afterwards retained. The character of them was also kept, which was +mirth and wantonness; and this was given, I suppose, to the folly of the +common audience, who soon grow weary of good sense, and, as we daily see +in our own age and country, are apt to forsake poetry, and still ready to +return to buffoonery and farce. From hence it came that in the Olympic +Games, where the poets contended for four prizes, the satiric tragedy was +the last of them, for in the rest the Satyrs were excluded from the +chorus. Amongst the plays of Euripides which are yet remaining, there is +one of these satirics, which is called _The Cyclops_, in which we may see +the nature of those poems, and from thence conclude what likeness they +have to the Roman satire. + +The story of this Cyclops, whose name was Polyphemus (so famous in the +Grecian fables), was that Ulysses, who with his company was driven on the +coast of Sicily, where those Cyclops inhabited, coming to ask relief from +Silenus and the Satyrs, who were herdsmen to that one-eyed giant, was +kindly received by them, and entertained till, being perceived by +Polyphemus, they were made prisoners against the rites of hospitality +(for which Ulysses eloquently pleaded), were afterwards put down into the +den, and some of them devoured; after which Ulysses (having made him +drunk when he was asleep) thrust a great fire-brand into his eye, and so +revenging his dead followers escaped with the remaining party of the +living, and Silenus and the Satyrs were freed from their servitude under +Polyphemus and remitted to their first liberty of attending and +accompanying their patron Bacchus. + +This was the subject of the tragedy, which, being one of those that end +with a happy event, is therefore by Aristotle judged below the other +sort, whose success is unfortunate; notwithstanding which, the Satyrs +(who were part of the _dramatis personæ_, as well as the whole chorus) +were properly introduced into the nature of the poem, which is mixed of +farce and tragedy. The adventure of Ulysses was to entertain the judging +part of the audience, and the uncouth persons of Silenus and the Satyrs +to divert the common people with their gross railleries. + +Your lordship has perceived by this time that this satiric tragedy and +the Roman satire have little resemblance in any of their features. The +very kinds are different; for what has a pastoral tragedy to do with a +paper of verses satirically written? The character and raillery of the +Satyrs is the only thing that could pretend to a likeness, were Scaliger +and Heinsius alive to maintain their opinion. And the first farces of +the Romans, which were the rudiments of their poetry, were written before +they had any communication with the Greeks, or indeed any knowledge of +that people. + +And here it will be proper to give the definition of the Greek satiric +poem from Casaubon before I leave this subject. “The ‘satiric,’” says +he, “is a dramatic poem annexed to a tragedy having a chorus which +consists of Satyrs. The persons represented in it are illustrious men, +the action of it is great, the style is partly serious and partly +jocular, and the event of the action most commonly is happy.” + +The Grecians, besides these satiric tragedies, had another kind of poem, +which they called “silli,” which were more of kin to the Roman satire. +Those “silli” were indeed invective poems, but of a different species +from the Roman poems of Ennius, Pacuvius, Lucilius, Horace, and the rest +of their successors. “They were so called,” says Casaubon in one place, +“from Silenus, the foster-father of Bacchus;” but in another place, +bethinking himself better, he derives their name ὰπὸ τοῦ σιλλαίνειν, from +their scoffing and petulancy. From some fragments of the “silli” written +by Timon we may find that they were satiric poems, full of parodies; that +is, of verses patched up from great poets, and turned into another sense +than their author intended them. Such amongst the Romans is the famous +Cento of Ausonius, where the words are Virgil’s, but by applying them to +another sense they are made a relation of a wedding-night, and the act of +consummation fulsomely described in the very words of the most modest +amongst all poets. Of the same manner are our songs which are turned +into burlesque, and the serious words of the author perverted into a +ridiculous meaning. Thus in Timon’s “silli” the words are generally +those of Homer and the tragic poets, but he applies them satirically to +some customs and kinds of philosophy which he arraigns. But the Romans +not using any of these parodies in their satires—sometimes indeed +repeating verses of other men, as Persius cites some of Nero’s, but not +turning them into another meaning—the “silli” cannot be supposed to be +the original of Roman satire. To these “silli,” consisting of parodies, +we may properly add the satires which were written against particular +persons, such as were the iambics of Archilochus against Lycambes, which +Horace undoubtedly imitated in some of his odes and epodes, whose titles +bear sufficient witness of it: I might also name the invective of Ovid +against Ibis, and many others. But these are the underwood of satire +rather than the timber-trees; they are not of general extension, as +reaching only to some individual person. And Horace seems to have purged +himself from those splenetic reflections in those odes and epodes before +he undertook the noble work of satires, which were properly so called. + +Thus, my lord, I have at length disengaged myself from those antiquities +of Greece, and have proved, I hope, from the best critics, that the Roman +satire was not borrowed from thence, but of their own manufacture. I am +now almost gotten into my depth; at least, by the help of Dacier, I am +swimming towards it. Not that I will promise always to follow him, any +more than he follows Casaubon; but to keep him in my eye as my best and +truest guide; and where I think he may possibly mislead me, there to have +recourse to my own lights, as I expect that others should do by me. + +Quintilian says in plain words, _Satira quidem tota nostra est_; and +Horace had said the same thing before him, speaking of his predecessor in +that sort of poetry, _et Græcis intacti carminis auctor_. Nothing can be +clearer than the opinion of the poet and the orator (both the best +critics of the two best ages of the Roman empire), that satire was wholly +of Latin growth, and not transplanted to Rome from Athens. Yet, as I +have said, Scaliger the father, according to his custom (that is, +insolently enough), contradicts them both, and gives no better reason +than the derivation of _satyrus_ from σάθυ, _salacitas_; and so, from the +lechery of those fauns, thinks he has sufficiently proved that satire is +derived from them: as if wantonness and lubricity were essential to that +sort of poem, which ought to be avoided in it. His other allegation, +which I have already mentioned, is as pitiful—that the Satyrs carried +platters and canisters full of fruit in their hands. If they had entered +empty-handed, had they been ever the less Satyrs? Or were the fruits and +flowers which they offered anything of kin to satire? or any argument +that this poem was originally Grecian? Casaubon judged better, and his +opinion is grounded on sure authority: that satire was derived from +_satura_, a Roman word which signifies full and abundant, and full also +of variety, in which nothing is wanting to its due perfection. It is +thus, says Denier, that we say a full colour, when the wool has taken the +whole tincture and drunk in as much of the dye as it can receive. +According to this derivation, from _setur_ comes _satura_ or _satira_, +according to the new spelling, as _optumus_ and _maxumus_ are now spelled +_optimus_ and _maximus_. _Satura_, as I have formerly noted, is an +adjective, and relates to the word _lanx_, which is understood; and this +_lanx_ (in English a “charger” or “large platter”) was yearly filled with +all sorts of fruits, which were offered to the gods at their festivals as +the _premices_ or first gatherings. These offerings of several sorts +thus mingled, it is true, were not unknown to the Grecians, who called +them πανκαρπιὸν θυσίαν, a sacrifice of all sorts of fruits; and +πανπερμίαν, when they offered all kinds of grain. Virgil has mentioned +these sacrifices in his “Georgics”:— + + “_Lancibus et pandis fumantia reddimus exta_;” + +and in another place, _lancesque et liba feremus_—that is, “We offer the +smoking entrails in great platters; and we will offer the chargers and +the cakes.” + +This word _satura_ has been afterward applied to many other sorts of +mixtures; as Festus calls it, a kind of _olla_ or hotch-potch made of +several sorts of meats. Laws were also called _leges saturæ_ when they +were of several heads and titles, like our tacked Bills of Parliament; +and _per saturam legem ferre_ in the Roman senate was to carry a law +without telling the senators, or counting voices, when they were in +haste. Sallust uses the word, _per saturam sententias exquirere_, when +the majority was visibly on one side. From hence it might probably be +conjectured that the Discourses or Satires of Ennius, Lucilius, and +Horace, as we now call them, took their name, because they are full of +various matters, and are also written on various subjects—as Porphyrius +says. But Dacier affirms that it is not immediately from thence that +these satires are so called, for that name had been used formerly for +other things which bore a nearer resemblance to those discourses of +Horace; in explaining of which, continues Dacier, a method is to be +pursued of which Casaubon himself has never thought, and which will put +all things into so clear a light that no further room will be left for +the least dispute. + +During the space of almost four hundred years since the building of their +city the Romans had never known any entertainments of the stage. Chance +and jollity first found out those verses which they called Saturnian and +Fescennine; or rather human nature, which is inclined to poetry, first +produced them rude and barbarous and unpolished, as all other operations +of the soul are in their beginnings before they are cultivated with art +and study. However, in occasions of merriment, they were first +practised; and this rough-cast, unhewn poetry was instead of stage-plays +for the space of a hundred and twenty years together. They were made +_extempore_, and were, as the French call them, _impromptus_; for which +the Tarsians of old were much renowned, and we see the daily examples of +them in the Italian farces of Harlequin and Scaramucha. Such was the +poetry of that savage people before it was tuned into numbers and the +harmony of verse. Little of the Saturnian verses is now remaining; we +only know from authors that they were nearer prose than poetry, without +feet or measure. They were ἔυρυθμοι, but not ἔμμετροι. Perhaps they +might be used in the solemn part of their ceremonies; and the Fescennine, +which were invented after them, in their afternoons’ debauchery, because +they were scoffing and obscene. + +The Fescennine and Saturnian were the same; for as they were called +Saturnian from their ancientness, when Saturn reigned in Italy, they were +also called Fescennine, from Fescennia, a town in the same country where +they were first practised. The actors, with a gross and rustic kind of +raillery, reproached each other with their failings, and at the same time +were nothing sparing of it to their audience. Somewhat of this custom +was afterwards retained in their Saturnalia, or Feasts of Saturn, +celebrated in December; at least, all kind of freedom in speech was then +allowed to slaves, even against their masters; and we are not without +some imitation of it in our Christmas gambols. Soldiers also used those +Fescennine verses, after measure and numbers had been added to them, at +the triumph of their generals; of which we have an example in the triumph +of Julius Cæsar over Gaul in these expressions: _Cæsar Gallias subegit_, +_Nicomedes Cæsarem_. _Ecce Cæsar nunc triumphat_, _qui subegit Gallias_; +_Nicomedes non triumphat_, _qui subegit Cæsarem_. The vapours of wine +made those first satirical poets amongst the Romans, which, says Dacier, +we cannot better represent than by imagining a company of clowns on a +holiday dancing lubberly and upbraiding one another in _extempore_ +doggerel with their defects and vices, and the stories that were told of +them in bake-houses and barbers’ shops. + +When they began to be somewhat better bred, and were entering, as I may +say, into the first rudiments of civil conversation, they left these +hedge-notes for another sort of poem, somewhat polished, which was also +full of pleasant raillery, but without any mixture of obscenity. This +sort of poetry appeared under the name of “satire” because of its +variety; and this satire was adorned with compositions of music, and with +dances; but lascivious postures were banished from it. In the Tuscan +language, says Livy, the word _hister_ signifies a player; and therefore +those actors which were first brought from Etruria to Rome on occasion of +a pestilence, when the Romans were admonished to avert the anger of the +gods by plays (in the year _ab urbe conditâ_ CCCXC.)—those actors, I say, +were therefore called _histriones_: and that name has since remained, not +only to actors Roman born, but to all others of every nation. They +played, not the former _extempore_ stuff of Fescennine verses or clownish +jests, but what they acted was a kind of civil cleanly farce, with music +and dances, and motions that were proper to the subject. + +In this condition Livius Andronicus found the stage when he attempted +first, instead of farces, to supply it with a nobler entertainment of +tragedies and comedies. This man was a Grecian born, and being made a +slave by Livius Salinator, and brought to Rome, had the education of his +patron’s children committed to him, which trust he discharged so much to +the satisfaction of his master that he gave him his liberty. + +Andronicus, thus become a freeman of Rome, added to his own name that of +Livius, his master; and, as I observed, was the first author of a regular +play in that commonwealth. Being already instructed in his native +country in the manners and decencies of the Athenian theatre, and +conversant in the _archæa comædia_ or old comedy of Aristophanes and the +rest of the Grecian poets, he took from that model his own designing of +plays for the Roman stage, the first of which was represented in the year +CCCCCXIV. since the building of Rome, as Tully, from the Commentaries of +Atticus, has assured us; it was after the end of the first Punic War, the +year before Atticus was born. Dacier has not carried the matter +altogether thus far; he only says that one Livius Andronicus was the +first stage-poet at Rome. But I will adventure on this hint to advance +another proposition, which I hope the learned will approve; and though we +have not anything of Andronicus remaining to justify my conjecture, yet +it is exceeding probable that, having read the works of those Grecian +wits, his countrymen, he imitated not only the groundwork, but also the +manner of their writing; and how grave soever his tragedies might be, yet +in his comedies he expressed the way of Aristophanes, Eupolis, and the +rest, which was to call some persons by their own names, and to expose +their defects to the laughter of the people (the examples of which we +have in the fore-mentioned Aristophanes, who turned the wise Socrates +into ridicule, and is also very free with the management of Cleon, +Alcibiades, and other ministers of the Athenian government). Now if this +be granted, we may easily suppose that the first hint of satirical plays +on the Roman stage was given by the Greeks—not from the _satirica_, for +that has been reasonably exploded in the former part of this +discourse—but from their old comedy, which was imitated first by Livius +Andronicus. And then Quintilian and Horace must be cautiously +interpreted, where they affirm that satire is wholly Roman, and a sort of +verse which was not touched on by the Grecians. The reconcilement of my +opinion to the standard of their judgment is not, however, very +difficult, since they spoke of satire, not as in its first elements, but +as it was formed into a separate work—begun by Ennius, pursued by +Lucilius, and completed afterwards by Horace. The proof depends only on +this _postalatum_—that the comedies of Andronicus, which were imitations +of the Greek, were also imitations of their railleries and reflections on +particular persons. For if this be granted me, which is a most probable +supposition, it is easy to infer that the first light which was given to +the Roman theatrical satire was from the plays of Livius Andronicus, +which will be more manifestly discovered when I come to speak of Ennius. +In the meantime I will return to Dacier. + +The people, says he, ran in crowds to these new entertainments of +Andronicus, as to pieces which were more noble in their kind, and more +perfect than their former satires, which for some time they neglected and +abandoned; but not long after they took them up again, and then they +joined them to their comedies, playing them at the end of every drama, as +the French continue at this day to act their farces, in the nature of a +separate entertainment from their tragedies. But more particularly they +were joined to the “Atellane” fables, says Casaubon; which were plays +invented by the Osci. Those fables, says Valerius Maximus, out of Livy, +were tempered with the Italian severity, and free from any note of infamy +or obsceneness; and, as an old commentator on Juvenal affirms, the +_Exodiarii_, which were singers and dancers, entered to entertain the +people with light songs and mimical gestures, that they might not go away +oppressed with melancholy from those serious pieces of the theatre. So +that the ancient satire of the Romans was in _extempore_ reproaches; the +next was farce, which was brought from Tuscany; to that succeeded the +plays of Andronicus, from the old comedy of the Grecians; and out of all +these sprang two several branches of new Roman satire, like different +scions from the same root, which I shall prove with as much brevity as +the subject will allow. + +A year after Andronicus had opened the Roman stage with his new dramas, +Ennius was born; who, when he was grown to man’s estate, having seriously +considered the genius of the people, and how eagerly they followed the +first satires, thought it would be worth his pains to refine upon the +project, and to write satires, not to be acted on the theatre, but read. +He preserved the groundwork of their pleasantry, their venom, and their +raillery on particular persons and general vices; and by this means, +avoiding the danger of any ill success in a public representation, he +hoped to be as well received in the cabinet as Andronicus had been upon +the stage. The event was answerable to his expectation. He made +discourses in several sorts of verse, varied often in the same paper, +retaining still in the title their original name of satire. Both in +relation to the subjects, and the variety of matters contained in them, +the satires of Horace are entirely like them; only Ennius, as I said, +confines not himself to one sort of verse, as Horace does, but taking +example from the Greeks, and even from Homer himself in his “Margites” +(which is a kind of satire, as Scaliger observes), gives himself the +licence, when one sort of numbers comes not easily, to run into another, +as his fancy dictates; for he makes no difficulty to mingle hexameters +with iambic trimeters or with trochaic tetrameters, as appears by those +fragments which are yet remaining of him. Horace has thought him worthy +to be copied, inserting many things of his into his own satires, as +Virgil has done into his “Æneids.” + +Here we have Dacier making out that Ennius was the first satirist in that +way of writing, which was of his invention—that is, satire abstracted +from the stage and new modelled into papers of verses on several +subjects. But he will have Ennius take the groundwork of satire from the +first farces of the Romans rather than from the formed plays of Livius +Andronicus, which were copied from the Grecian comedies. It may possibly +be so; but Dacier knows no more of it than I do. And it seems to me the +more probable opinion that he rather imitated the fine railleries of the +Greeks, which he saw in the pieces of Andronicus, than the coarseness of +his own countrymen in their clownish extemporary way of jeering. + +But besides this, it is universally granted that Ennius, though an +Italian, was excellently learned in the Greek language. His verses were +stuffed with fragments of it, even to a fault; and he himself believed, +according to the Pythagorean opinion, that the soul of Homer was +transfused into him, which Persius observes in his sixth satire—_postquam +destertuit esse Mæonides_. But this being only the private opinion of so +inconsiderable a man as I am, I leave it to the further disquisition of +the critics, if they think it worth their notice. Most evident it is +that, whether he imitated the Roman farce or the Greek comedies, he is to +be acknowledged for the first author of Roman satire, as it is properly +so called, and distinguished from any sort of stage-play. + +Of Pacuvius, who succeeded him, there is little to be said, because there +is so little remaining of him; only that he is taken to be the nephew of +Ennius, his sister’s son; that in probability he was instructed by his +uncle in his way of satire, which we are told he has copied; but what +advances he made, we know not. + +Lucilius came into the world when Pacuvius flourished most. He also made +satires after the manner of Ennius; but he gave them a more graceful +turn, and endeavoured to imitate more closely the _vetus comædia_ of the +Greeks, of the which the old original Roman satire had no idea till the +time of Livius Andronicus. And though Horace seems to have made Lucilius +the first author of satire in verse amongst the Romans in these words— + + “_Quid_? _cum est Lucilius auses_ + _Primus in hunc operis componere carmina morem_”— + +he is only thus to be understood—that Lucilius had given a more graceful +turn to the satire of Ennius and Pacuvius, not that he invented a new +satire of his own; and Quintilian seems to explain this passage of Horace +in these words: _Satira quidem tota nostra est_; _in quâ primus insignem +laudem adeptus est Luciluis_. + +Thus both Horace and Quintilian give a kind of primacy of honour to +Lucilius amongst the Latin satirists; for as the Roman language grew more +refined, so much more capable it was of receiving the Grecian beauties, +in his time. Horace and Quintilian could mean no more than that Lucilius +writ better than Ennius and Pacuvius, and on the same account we prefer +Horace to Lucilius. Both of them imitated the old Greek comedy; and so +did Ennius and Pacuvius before them. The polishing of the Latin tongue, +in the succession of times, made the only difference; and Horace himself +in two of his satires, written purposely on this subject, thinks the +Romans of his age were too partial in their commendations of Lucilius, +who writ not only loosely and muddily, with little art and much less +care, but also in a time when the Latin tongue was not yet sufficiently +purged from the dregs of barbarism; and many significant and sounding +words which the Romans wanted were not admitted even in the times of +Lucretius and Cicero, of which both complain. + +But to proceed: Dacier justly taxes Casaubon for saying that the satires +of Lucilius were wholly different in species from those of Ennius and +Pacuvius, Casaubon was led into that mistake by Diomedes the grammarian, +who in effect says this:—“Satire amongst the Romans but not amongst the +Greeks, was a biting invective poem, made after the model of the ancient +comedy, for the reprehension of vices; such as were the poems of +Lucilius, of Horace, and of Persius. But in former times the name of +satire was given to poems which were composed of several sorts of verses, +such as were made by Ennius and Pacuvius”—more fully expressing the +etymology of the word satire from _satura_, which we have observed. Here +it is manifest that Diomedes makes a specifical distinction betwixt the +satires of Ennius and those of Lucilius. But this, as we say in English, +is only a distinction without a difference; for the reason of it is +ridiculous and absolutely false. This was that which cozened honest +Casaubon, who, relying on Diomedes, had not sufficiently examined the +origin and nature of those two satires, which were entirely the same both +in the matter and the form; for all that Lucilius performed beyond his +predecessors, Ennius and Pacuvius, was only the adding of more politeness +and more salt, without any change in the substance of the poem. And +though Lucilius put not together in the same satire several sorts of +verses, as Ennius did, yet he composed several satires of several sorts +of verses, and mingled them with Greek verses: one poem consisted only of +hexameters, and another was entirely of iambics; a third of trochaics; as +is visible by the fragments yet remaining of his works. In short, if the +satires of Lucilius are therefore said to be wholly different from those +of Ennius because he added much more of beauty and polishing to his own +poems than are to be found in those before him, it will follow from hence +that the satires of Horace are wholly different from those of Lucilius, +because Horace has not less surpassed Lucilius in the elegancy of his +writing than Lucilius surpassed Ennius in the turn and ornament of his. +This passage of Diomedes has also drawn Dousa the son into the same error +of Casaubon, which I say, not to expose the little failings of those +judicious men, but only to make it appear with how much diffidence and +caution we are to read their works when they treat a subject of so much +obscurity and so very ancient as is this of satire. + +Having thus brought down the history of satire from its original to the +times of Horace, and shown the several changes of it, I should here +discover some of those graces which Horace added to it, but that I think +it will be more proper to defer that undertaking till I make the +comparison betwixt him and Juvenal. In the meanwhile, following the +order of time, it will be necessary to say somewhat of another kind of +satire which also was descended from the ancient; it is that which we +call the Varronian satire (but which Varro himself calls the Menippean) +because Varro, the most learned of the Romans, was the first author of +it, who imitated in his works the manners of Menippus the Gadarenian, who +professed the philosophy of the Cynics. + +This sort of satire was not only composed of several sorts of verse, like +those of Ennius, but was also mixed with prose, and Greek was sprinkled +amongst the Latin. Quintilian, after he had spoken of the satire of +Lucilius, adds what follows:—“There is another and former kind of satire, +composed by Terentius Varro, the most learned of the Romans, in which he +was not satisfied alone with mingling in it several sorts of verse.” The +only difficulty of this passage is that Quintilian tells us that this +satire of Varro was of a former kind; for how can we possibly imagine +this to be, since Varro, who was contemporary to Cicero, must +consequently be after Lucilius? But Quintilian meant not that the satire +of Varro was in order of time before Lucilius; he would only give us to +understand that the Varronian satire, with mixture of several sorts of +verses, was more after the manner of Ennius and Pacuvius than that of +Lucilius, who was more severe and more correct, and gave himself less +liberty in the mixture of his verses in the same poem. + +We have nothing remaining of those Varronian satires excepting some +inconsiderable fragments, and those for the most part much corrupted. +The tithes of many of them are indeed preserved, and they are generally +double; from whence, at least, we may understand how many various +subjects were treated by that author. Tully in his “Academics” +introduces Varro himself giving us some light concerning the scope and +design of those works; wherein, after he had shown his reasons why he did +not _ex professo_ write of philosophy, he adds what +follows:—“Notwithstanding,” says he, “that those pieces of mine wherein I +have imitated Menippus, though I have not translated him, are sprinkled +with a kind of mirth and gaiety, yet many things are there inserted which +are drawn from the very entrails of philosophy, and many things severely +argued which I have mingled with pleasantries on purpose that they may +more easily go down with the common sort of unlearned readers.” The rest +of the sentence is so lame that we can only make thus much out of it—that +in the composition of his satires he so tempered philology with +philosophy that his work was a mixture of them both. And Tully himself +confirms us in this opinion when a little after he addresses himself to +Varro in these words:—“And you yourself have composed a most elegant and +complete poem; you have begun philosophy in many places; sufficient to +incite us, though too little to instruct us.” Thus it appears that Varro +was one of those writers whom they called σπουδογελοῖοι (studious of +laughter); and that, as learned as he was, his business was more to +divert his reader than to teach him. And he entitled his own satires +Menippean; not that Menippus had written any satires (for his were either +dialogues or epistles), but that Varro imitated his style, his manner, +and his facetiousness. All that we know further of Menippus and his +writings, which are wholly lost, is that by some he is esteemed, as, +amongst the rest, by Varro; by others he is noted of cynical impudence +and obscenity; that he was much given to those parodies which I have +already mentioned (that is, he often quoted the verses of Homer and the +tragic poets, and turned their serious meaning into something that was +ridiculous); whereas Varro’s satires are by Tully called absolute, and +most elegant and various poems. Lucian, who was emulous of this +Menippus, seems to have imitated both his manners and his style in many +of his dialogues, where Menippus himself is often introduced as a speaker +in them and as a perpetual buffoon; particularly his character is +expressed in the beginning of that dialogue which is called Νεκυομαντία. +But Varro in imitating him avoids his impudence and filthiness, and only +expresses his witty pleasantry. + +This we may believe for certain—that as his subjects were various, so +most of them were tales or stories of his own invention; which is also +manifest from antiquity by those authors who are acknowledged to have +written Varronian satires in imitation of his—of whom the chief is +Petronius Arbiter, whose satire, they say, is now printing in Holland, +wholly recovered, and made complete; when it is made public, it will +easily be seen by any one sentence whether it be supposititious or +genuine. Many of Lucian’s dialogues may also properly be called +Varronian satires, particularly his true history; and consequently the +“Golden Ass” of Apuleius, which is taken from him. Of the same stamp is +the mock deification of Claudius by Seneca, and the Symposium or “Cæsars” +of Julian the Emperor. Amongst the moderns we may reckon the “Encomium +Moriæ” of Erasmus, Barclay’s “Euphormio,” and a volume of German authors +which my ingenious friend Mr. Charles Killigrew once lent me. In the +English I remember none which are mixed with prose as Varro’s were; but +of the same kind is “Mother Hubbard’s Tale” in Spenser, and (if it be not +too vain to mention anything of my own) the poems of “Absalom” and +“MacFlecnoe.” + +This is what I have to say in general of satire: only, as Dacier has +observed before me, we may take notice that the word satire is of a more +general signification in Latin than in French or English; for amongst the +Romans it was not only used for those discourses which decried vice or +exposed folly, but for others also, where virtue was recommended. But in +our modern languages we apply it only to invective poems, where the very +name of satire is formidable to those persons who would appear to the +world what they are not in themselves; for in English, to say satire is +to mean reflection, as we use that word in the worst sense; or as the +French call it, more properly, _médisance_. In the criticism of +spelling, it ought to be with _i_, and not with _y_, to distinguish its +true derivation from _satura_, not from _Satyrus_; and if this be so, +then it is false spelled throughout this book, for here it is written +“satyr,” which having not considered at the first, I thought it not worth +correcting afterwards. But the French are more nice, and never spell it +any otherwise than “satire.” + +I am now arrived at the most difficult part of my undertaking, which is +to compare Horace with Juvenal and Persius. It is observed by Rigaltius +in his preface before Juvenal, written to Thuanus, that these three poets +have all their particular partisans and favourers. Every commentator, as +he has taken pains with any of them, thinks himself obliged to prefer his +author to the other two; to find out their failings, and decry them, that +he may make room for his own darling. Such is the partiality of mankind, +to set up that interest which they have once espoused, though it be to +the prejudice of truth, morality, and common justice, and especially in +the productions of the brain. As authors generally think themselves the +best poets, because they cannot go out of themselves to judge sincerely +of their betters, so it is with critics, who, having first taken a liking +to one of these poets, proceed to comment on him and to illustrate him; +after which they fall in love with their own labours to that degree of +blind fondness that at length they defend and exalt their author, not so +much for his sake as for their own. It is a folly of the same nature +with that of the Romans themselves in their games of the circus. The +spectators were divided in their factions betwixt the Veneti and the +Prasini; some were for the charioteer in blue, and some for him in green. +The colours themselves were but a fancy; but when once a man had taken +pains to set out those of his party, and had been at the trouble of +procuring voices for them, the case was altered: he was concerned for his +own labour, and that so earnestly that disputes and quarrels, +animosities, commotions, and bloodshed often happened; and in the +declension of the Grecian empire, the very sovereigns themselves engaged +in it, even when the barbarians were at their doors, and stickled for the +preference of colours when the safety of their people was in question. I +am now myself on the brink of the same precipice; I have spent some time +on the translation of Juvenal and Persius, and it behoves me to be wary, +lest for that reason I should be partial to them, or take a prejudice +against Horace. Yet on the other side I would not be like some of our +judges, who would give the cause for a poor man right or wrong; for +though that be an error on the better hand, yet it is still a partiality, +and a rich man unheard cannot be concluded an oppressor. I remember a +saying of King Charles II. on Sir Matthew Hale (who was doubtless an +uncorrupt and upright man), that his servants were sure to be cast on any +trial which was heard before him; not that he thought the judge was +possibly to be bribed, but that his integrity might be too scrupulous, +and that the causes of the Crown were always suspicious when the +privileges of subjects were concerned. + +It had been much fairer if the modern critics who have embarked in the +quarrels of their favourite authors had rather given to each his proper +due without taking from another’s heap to raise their own. There is +praise enough for each of them in particular, without encroaching on his +fellows, and detracting from them or enriching themselves with the spoils +of others. But to come to particulars: Heinsius and Dacier are the most +principal of those who raise Horace above Juvenal and Persius. Scaliger +the father, Rigaltius, and many others debase Horace that they may set up +Juvenal; and Casaubon, who is almost single, throws dirt on Juvenal and +Horace that he may exalt Persius, whom he understood particularly well, +and better than any of his former commentators, even Stelluti, who +succeeded him. I will begin with him who, in my opinion, defends the +weakest cause, which is that of Persius; and labouring, as Tacitus +professes of his own writing, to divest myself of partiality or +prejudice, consider Persius, not as a poet whom I have wholly translated, +and who has cost me more labour and time than Juvenal, but according to +what I judge to be his own merit, which I think not equal in the main to +that of Juvenal or Horace, and yet in some things to be preferred to both +of them. + +First, then, for the verse; neither Casaubon himself, nor any for him, +can defend either his numbers or the purity of his Latin. Casaubon gives +this point for lost, and pretends not to justify either the measures or +the words of Persius; he is evidently beneath Horace and Juvenal in both. + +Then, as his verse is scabrous and hobbling, and his words not everywhere +well chosen (the purity of Latin being more corrupted than in the time of +Juvenal, and consequently of Horace, who wrote when the language was in +the height of its perfection), so his diction is hard, his figures are +generally too bold and daring, and his tropes, particularly his +metaphors, insufferably strained. + +In the third place, notwithstanding all the diligence of Casaubon, +Stelluti, and a Scotch gentleman whom I have heard extremely commended +for his illustrations of him, yet he is still obscure; whether he +affected not to be understood but with difficulty; or whether the fear of +his safety under Nero compelled him to this darkness in some places, or +that it was occasioned by his close way of thinking, and the brevity of +his style and crowding of his figures; or lastly, whether after so long a +time many of his words have been corrupted, and many customs and stories +relating to them lost to us; whether some of these reasons, or all, +concurred to render him so cloudy, we may be bold to affirm that the best +of commentators can but guess at his meaning in many passages, and none +can be certain that he has divined rightly. + +After all he was a young man, like his friend and contemporary Lucan—both +of them men of extraordinary parts and great acquired knowledge, +considering their youth; but neither of them had arrived to that maturity +of judgment which is necessary to the accomplishing of a formed poet. +And this consideration, as on the one hand it lays some imperfections to +their charge, so on the other side it is a candid excuse for those +failings which are incident to youth and inexperience; and we have more +reason to wonder how they, who died before the thirtieth year of their +age, could write so well and think so strongly, than to accuse them of +those faults from which human nature (and more especially in youth) can +never possibly be exempted. + +To consider Persius yet more closely: he rather insulted over vice and +folly than exposed them like Juvenal and Horace; and as chaste and modest +as he is esteemed, it cannot be denied but that in some places he is +broad and fulsome, as the latter verses of the fourth satire and of the +sixth sufficiently witness. And it is to be believed that he who commits +the same crime often and without necessity cannot but do it with some +kind of pleasure. + +To come to a conclusion: he is manifestly below Horace because he borrows +most of his greatest beauties from him; and Casaubon is so far from +denying this that he has written a treatise purposely concerning it, +wherein he shows a multitude of his translations from Horace, and his +imitations of him, for the credit of his author, which he calls “Imitatio +Horatiana.” + +To these defects (which I casually observed while I was translating this +author) Scaliger has added others; he calls him in plain terms a silly +writer and a trifler, full of ostentation of his learning, and, after +all, unworthy to come into competition with Juvenal and Horace. + +After such terrible accusations, it is time to hear what his patron +Casaubon can allege in his defence. Instead of answering, he excuses for +the most part; and when he cannot, accuses others of the same crimes. He +deals with Scaliger as a modest scholar with a master. He compliments +him with so much reverence that one would swear he feared him as much at +least as he respected him. Scaliger will not allow Persius to have any +wit; Casaubon interprets this in the mildest sense, and confesses his +author was not good at turning things into a pleasant ridicule, or, in +other words, that he was not a laughable writer. That he was _ineptus_, +indeed, but that was _non aptissimus ad jocandum_; but that he was +ostentatious of his learning, that by Scaliger’s good favour he denies. +Persius showed his learning, but was no boaster of it; he did +_ostendere_, but not _ostentare_; and so, he says, did Scaliger (where, +methinks, Casaubon turns it handsomely upon that supercilious critic, and +silently insinuates that he himself was sufficiently vain-glorious and a +boaster of his own knowledge). All the writings of this venerable +censor, continues Casaubon, which are χρυσοῦ χρυσότερα (more golden than +gold itself), are everywhere smelling of that thyme which, like a bee, he +has gathered from ancient authors; but far be ostentation and vain-glory +from a gentleman so well born and so nobly educated as Scaliger. But, +says Scaliger, he is so obscure that he has got himself the name of +Scotinus—a dark writer. “Now,” says Casaubon, “it is a wonder to me that +anything could be obscure to the divine wit of Scaliger, from which +nothing could be hidden.” This is, indeed, a strong compliment, but no +defence; and Casaubon, who could not but be sensible of his author’s +blind side, thinks it time to abandon a post that was untenable. He +acknowledges that Persius is obscure in some places; but so is Plato, so +is Thucydides; so are Pindar, Theocritus, and Aristophanes amongst the +Greek poets; and even Horace and Juvenal, he might have added, amongst +the Romans. The truth is, Persius is not sometimes, but generally +obscure; and therefore Casaubon at last is forced to excuse him by +alleging that it was _se defendendo_, for fear of Nero, and that he was +commanded to write so cloudily by Cornutus, in virtue of holy obedience +to his master. I cannot help my own opinion; I think Cornutus needed not +to have read many lectures to him on that subject. Persius was an apt +scholar, and when he was bidden to be obscure in some places where his +life and safety were in question, took the same counsel for all his book, +and never afterwards wrote ten lines together clearly. Casaubon, being +upon this chapter, has not failed, we may be sure, of making a compliment +to his own dear comment. “If Persius,” says he, “be in himself obscure, +yet my interpretation has made him intelligible.” There is no question +but he deserves that praise which he has given to himself; but the nature +of the thing, as Lucretius says, will not admit of a perfect explanation. +Besides many examples which I could urge, the very last verse of his last +satire (upon which he particularly values himself in his preface) is not +yet sufficiently explicated. It is true, Holyday has endeavoured to +justify his construction; but Stelluti is against it: and, for my part, I +can have but a very dark notion of it. As for the chastity of his +thoughts, Casaubon denies not but that one particular passage in the +fourth satire (_At_, _si unctus cesses_, &c.) is not only the most +obscure, but the most obscene, of all his works. I understood it, but +for that reason turned it over. In defence of his boisterous metaphors +he quotes Longinus, who accounts them as instruments of the sublime, fit +to move and stir up the affections, particularly in narration; to which +it may be replied that where the trope is far-fetched and hard, it is fit +for nothing but to puzzle the understanding, and may be reckoned amongst +those things of Demosthenes which Æschines called θαύματα, not +ῥήματα—that is, prodigies, not words. It must be granted to Casaubon +that the knowledge of many things is lost in our modern ages which were +of familiar notice to the ancients, and that satire is a poem of a +difficult nature in itself, and is not written to vulgar readers; and +(through the relation which it has to comedy) the frequent change of +persons makes the sense perplexed, when we can but divine who it is that +speaks—whether Persius himself, or his friend and monitor, or, in some +places, a third person. But Casaubon comes back always to himself, and +concludes that if Persius had not been obscure, there had been no need of +him for an interpreter. Yet when he had once enjoined himself so hard a +task, he then considered the Greek proverb, that he must χελώνης φαγεῖν, +ἢ μὴ φαγεῖν (either eat the whole snail or let it quite alone); and so he +went through with his laborious task, as I have done with my difficult +translation. + +Thus far, my lord, you see it has gone very hard with Persius. I think +he cannot be allowed to stand in competition either with Juvenal or +Horace. Yet, for once, I will venture to be so vain as to affirm that +none of his hard metaphors or forced expressions are in my translation. +But more of this in its proper place, where I shall say somewhat in +particular of our general performance in making these two authors +English. In the meantime I think myself obliged to give Persius his +undoubted due, and to acquaint the world, with Casaubon, in what he has +equalled and in what excelled his two competitors. + +A man who is resolved to praise an author with any appearance of justice +must be sure to take him on the strongest side, and where he is least +liable to exceptions; he is therefore obliged to choose his mediums +accordingly. Casaubon (who saw that Persius could not laugh with a +becoming grace, that he was not made for jesting, and that a merry +conceit was not his talent) turned his feather, like an Indian, to +another light, that he might give it the better gloss. “Moral doctrine,” +says he, “and urbanity or well-mannered wit are the two things which +constitute the Roman satire; but of the two, that which is most essential +to this poem, and is, as it were, the very soul which animates it, is the +scourging of vice and exhortation to virtue.” Thus wit, for a good +reason, is already almost out of doors, and allowed only for an +instrument—a kind of tool or a weapon, as he calls it—of which the +satirist makes use in the compassing of his design. The end and aim of +our three rivals is consequently the same; but by what methods they have +prosecuted their intention is further to be considered. Satire is of the +nature of moral philosophy, as being instructive; he therefore who +instructs most usefully will carry the palm from his two antagonists. +The philosophy in which Persius was educated, and which he professes +through his whole book, is the Stoic—the most noble, most generous, most +beneficial to humankind amongst all the sects who have given us the rules +of ethics, thereby to form a severe virtue in the soul, to raise in us an +undaunted courage against the assaults of fortune, to esteem as nothing +the things that are without us, because they are not in our power; not to +value riches, beauty, honours, fame, or health any farther than as +conveniences and so many helps to living as we ought, and doing good in +our generation. In short, to be always happy while we possess our minds +with a good conscience, are free from the slavery of vices, and conform +our actions and conversation to the rules of right reason. See here, my +lord, an epitome of Epictetus, the doctrine of Zeno, and the education of +our Persius; and this he expressed, not only in all his satires, but in +the manner of his life. I will not lessen this commendation of the Stoic +philosophy by giving you an account of some absurdities in their +doctrine, and some perhaps impieties (if we consider them by the standard +of Christian faith). Persius has fallen into none of them, and therefore +is free from those imputations. What he teaches might be taught from +pulpits with more profit to the audience than all the nice speculations +of divinity and controversies concerning faith, which are more for the +profit of the shepherd than for the edification of the flock. Passion, +interest, ambition, and all their bloody consequences of discord and of +war are banished from this doctrine. Here is nothing proposed but the +quiet and tranquillity of the mind; virtue lodged at home, and afterwards +diffused in her general effects to the improvement and good of humankind. +And therefore I wonder not that the present Bishop of Salisbury has +recommended this our author and the tenth satire of Juvenal (in his +pastoral letter) to the serious perusal and practice of the divines in +his diocese as the best commonplaces for their sermons, as the +storehouses and magazines of moral virtues, from whence they may draw +out, as they have occasion, all manner of assistance for the +accomplishment of a virtuous life, which the Stoics have assigned for the +great end and perfection of mankind. Herein, then, it is that Persius +has excelled both Juvenal and Horace. He sticks to his own philosophy; +he shifts not sides, like Horace (who is sometimes an Epicurean, +sometimes a Stoic, sometimes an Eclectic, as his present humour leads +him), nor declaims, like Juvenal, against vices more like an orator than +a philosopher. Persius is everywhere the same—true to the dogmas of his +master. What he has learnt, he teaches vehemently; and what he teaches, +that he practises himself. There is a spirit of sincerity in all he +says; you may easily discern that he is in earnest, and is persuaded of +that truth which he inculcates. In this I am of opinion that he excels +Horace, who is commonly in jest, and laughs while he instructs; and is +equal to Juvenal, who was as honest and serious as Persius, and more he +could not be. + +Hitherto I have followed Casaubon, and enlarged upon him, because I am +satisfied that he says no more than truth; the rest is almost all +frivolous. For he says that Horace, being the son of a tax-gatherer (or +a collector, as we call it) smells everywhere of the meanness of his +birth and education; his conceits are vulgar, like the subjects of his +satires; that he does _plebeium sepere_, and writes not with that +elevation which becomes a satirist; that Persius, being nobly born and of +an opulent family, had likewise the advantage of a better master +(Cornutus being the most learned of his time, a man of a most holy life, +the chief of the Stoic sect at Rome, and not only a great philosopher, +but a poet himself, and in probability a coadjutor of Persius): that as +for Juvenal, he was long a declaimer, came late to poetry, and had not +been much conversant in philosophy. + +It is granted that the father of Horace was _libertinus_—that is, one +degree removed from his grandfather, who had been once a slave. But +Horace, speaking of him, gives him the best character of a father which I +ever read in history; and I wish a witty friend of mine, now living, had +such another. He bred him in the best school, and with the best company +of young noblemen; and Horace, by his gratitude to his memory, gives a +certain testimony that his education was ingenuous. After this he formed +himself abroad by the conversation of great men. Brutus found him at +Athens, and was so pleased with him that he took him thence into the +army, and made him _Tribunus Militum_ (a colonel in a legion), which was +the preferment of an old soldier. All this was before his acquaintance +with Mæcenas, and his introduction into the court of Augustus, and the +familiarity of that great emperor; which, had he not been well bred +before, had been enough to civilise his conversation, and render him +accomplished and knowing in all the arts of complacency and good +behaviour; and, in short, an agreeable companion for the retired hours +and privacies of a favourite who was first minister. So that upon the +whole matter Persius may be acknowledged to be equal with him in those +respects, though better born, and Juvenal inferior to both. If the +advantage be anywhere, it is on the side of Horace, as much as the court +of Augustus Cæsar was superior to that of Nero. As for the subjects +which they treated, it will appear hereafter that Horace wrote not +vulgarly on vulgar subjects, nor always chose them. His style is +constantly accommodated to his subject, either high or low. If his fault +be too much lowness, that of Persius is the fault of the hardness of his +metaphors and obscurity; and so they are equal in the failings of their +style, where Juvenal manifestly triumphs over both of them. + +The comparison betwixt Horace and Juvenal is more difficult, because +their forces were more equal. A dispute has always been, and ever will +continue, betwixt the favourers of the two poets. _Non nostrum est +tantas componere lites_. I shall only venture to give my own opinion, +and leave it for better judges to determine. If it be only argued in +general which of them was the better poet, the victory is already gained +on the side of Horace. Virgil himself must yield to him in the delicacy +of his turns, his choice of words, and perhaps the purity of his Latin. +He who says that Pindar is inimitable, is himself inimitable in his odes; +but the contention betwixt these two great masters is for the prize of +satire, in which controversy all the odes and epodes of Horace are to +stand excluded. I say this because Horace has written many of them +satirically against his private enemies; yet these, if justly considered, +are somewhat of the nature of the Greek _silli_, which were invectives +against particular sects and persons. But Horace had purged himself of +this choler before he entered on those discourses which are more properly +called the Roman satire. He has not now to do with a Lyce, a Canidia, a +Cassius Severus, or a Menas; but is to correct the vices and the follies +of his time, and to give the rules of a happy and virtuous life. In a +word, that former sort of satire which is known in England by the name of +lampoon is a dangerous sort of weapon, and for the most part unlawful. +We have no moral right on the reputation of other men; it is taking from +them what we cannot restore to them. There are only two reasons for +which we may be permitted to write lampoons, and I will not promise that +they can always justify us. The first is revenge, when we have been +affronted in the same nature, or have been anywise notoriously abused, +and can make ourselves no other reparation. And yet we know that in +Christian charity all offences are to be forgiven, as we expect the like +pardon for those which we daily commit against Almighty God. And this +consideration has often made me tremble when I was saying our Saviour’s +prayer, for the plain condition of the forgiveness which we beg is the +pardoning of others the offences which they have done to us; for which +reason I have many times avoided the commission of that fault, even when +I have been notoriously provoked. Let not this, my lord, pass for vanity +in me; for it is truth. More libels have been written against me than +almost any man now living; and I had reason on my side to have defended +my own innocence. I speak not of my poetry, which I have wholly given up +to the critics—let them use it as they please—posterity, perhaps, may be +more favourable to me; for interest and passion will lie buried in +another age, and partiality and prejudice be forgotten. I speak of my +morals, which have been sufficiently aspersed—that only sort of +reputation ought to be dear to every honest man, and is to me. But let +the world witness for me that I have been often wanting to myself in that +particular; I have seldom answered any scurrilous lampoon when it was in +my power to have exposed my enemies; and, being naturally vindicative, +have suffered in silence, and possessed my soul in quiet. + +Anything, though never so little, which a man speaks of himself, in my +opinion, is still too much; and therefore I will waive this subject, and +proceed to give the second reason which may justify a poet when he writes +against a particular person, and that is when he is become a public +nuisance. All those whom Horace in his satires, and Persius and Juvenal +have mentioned in theirs with a brand of infamy, are wholly such. It is +an action of virtue to make examples of vicious men. They may and ought +to be upbraided with their crimes and follies, both for their own +amendment (if they are not yet incorrigible), and for the terror of +others, to hinder them from falling into those enormities, which they see +are so severely punished in the persons of others. The first reason was +only an excuse for revenge; but this second is absolutely of a poet’s +office to perform. But how few lampooners are there now living who are +capable of this duty! When they come in my way, it is impossible +sometimes to avoid reading them. But, good God! how remote they are in +common justice from the choice of such persons as are the proper subject +of satire, and how little wit they bring for the support of their +injustice! The weaker sex is their most ordinary theme; and the best and +fairest are sure to be the most severely handled. Amongst men, those who +are prosperously unjust are entitled to a panegyric, but afflicted virtue +is insolently stabbed with all manner of reproaches; no decency is +considered, no fulsomeness omitted; no venom is wanting, as far as +dulness can supply it, for there is a perpetual dearth of wit, a +barrenness of good sense and entertainment. The neglect of the readers +will soon put an end to this sort of scribbling. There can be no +pleasantry where there is no wit, no impression can be made where there +is no truth for the foundation. To conclude: they are like the fruits of +the earth in this unnatural season; the corn which held up its head is +spoiled with rankness, but the greater part of the harvest is laid along, +and little of good income and wholesome nourishment is received into the +barns. This is almost a digression, I confess to your lordship; but a +just indignation forced it from me. Now I have removed this rubbish I +will return to the comparison of Juvenal and Horace. + +I would willingly divide the palm betwixt them upon the two heads of +profit and delight, which are the two ends of poetry in general. It must +be granted by the favourers of Juvenal that Horace is the more copious +and more profitable in his instructions of human life; but in my +particular opinion, which I set not up for a standard to better +judgments, Juvenal is the more delightful author. I am profited by both, +I am pleased with both; but I owe more to Horace for my instruction, and +more to Juvenal for my pleasure. This, as I said, is my particular taste +of these two authors. They who will have either of them to excel the +other in both qualities, can scarce give better reasons for their opinion +than I for mine. But all unbiassed readers will conclude that my +moderation is not to be condemned; to such impartial men I must appeal, +for they who have already formed their judgment may justly stand +suspected of prejudice; and though all who are my readers will set up to +be my judges, I enter my caveat against them, that they ought not so much +as to be of my jury; or; if they be admitted, it is but reason that they +should first hear what I have to urge in the defence of my opinion. + +That Horace is somewhat the better instructor of the two is proved from +hence—that his instructions are more general, Juvenal’s more limited. So +that, granting that the counsels which they give are equally good for +moral use, Horace, who gives the most various advice, and most applicable +to all occasions which can occur to us in the course of our lives—as +including in his discourses not only all the rules of morality, but also +of civil conversation—is undoubtedly to be preferred to him, who is more +circumscribed in his instructions, makes them to fewer people, and on +fewer occasions, than the other. I may be pardoned for using an old +saying, since it is true and to the purpose: _Bonum quò communius_, _eò +melius_. Juvenal, excepting only his first satire, is in all the rest +confined to the exposing of some particular vice; that he lashes, and +there he sticks. His sentences are truly shining and instructive; but +they are sprinkled here and there. Horace is teaching us in every line, +and is perpetually moral; he had found out the skill of Virgil to hide +his sentences, to give you the virtue of them without showing them in +their full extent, which is the ostentation of a poet, and not his art. +And this Petronius charges on the authors of his time as a vice of +writing, which was then growing on the age: _ne sententiæ extra corpus +orationis emineant_; he would have them weaved into the body of the work, +and not appear embossed upon it, and striking directly on the reader’s +view. Folly was the proper quarry of Horace, and not vice; and as there +are but few notoriously wicked men in comparison with a shoal of fools +and fops, so it is a harder thing to make a man wise than to make him +honest; for the will is only to be reclaimed in the one, but the +understanding is to be informed in the other. There are blind sides and +follies even in the professors of moral philosophy, and there is not any +one sect of them that Horace has not exposed; which, as it was not the +design of Juvenal, who was wholly employed in lashing vices (some of them +the most enormous that can be imagined), so perhaps it was not so much +his talent. + + “_Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico_ + _Tangit_, _et admissus circum præcordia ludit_.” + +This was the commendation which Persius gave him; where by _vitium_ he +means those little vices which we call follies, the defects of human +understanding, or at most the peccadilloes of life, rather than the +tragical vices to which men are hurried by their unruly passions and +exorbitant desires. But in the word _omne_, which is universal, he +concludes with me that the divine wit of Horace left nothing untouched; +that he entered into the inmost recesses of nature; found out the +imperfections even of the most wise and grave, as well as of the common +people; discovering even in the great Trebatius (to whom he addresses the +first satire) his hunting after business and following the court, as well +as in the prosecutor Crispinus, his impertinence and importunity. It is +true, he exposes Crispinus openly as a common nuisance; but he rallies +the other, as a friend, more finely. The exhortations of Persius are +confined to noblemen, and the Stoic philosophy is that alone which he +recommends to them; Juvenal exhorts to particular virtues, as they are +opposed to those vices against which he declaims; but Horace laughs to +shame all follies, and insinuates virtue rather by familiar examples than +by the severity of precepts. + +This last consideration seems to incline the balance on the side of +Horace, and to give him the preference to Juvenal, not only in profit, +but in pleasure. But, after all, I must confess that the delight which +Horace gives me is but languishing (be pleased still to understand that I +speak of my own taste only); he may ravish other men, but I am too stupid +and insensible to be tickled. Where he barely grins himself, and, as +Scaliger says, only shows his white teeth, he cannot provoke me to any +laughter. His urbanity—that is, his good manners—are to be commended; +but his wit is faint, and his salt (if I may dare to say so) almost +insipid. Juvenal is of a more vigorous and masculine wit; he gives me as +much pleasure as I can bear; he fully satisfies my expectation; he treats +his subject home; his spleen is raised, and he raises mine. I have the +pleasure of concernment in all he says; he drives his reader along with +him, and when he is at the end of his way, I willingly stop with him. If +he went another stage, it would be too far; it would make a journey of a +progress, and turn delight into fatigue. When he gives over, it is a +sign the subject is exhausted, and the wit of man can carry it no +farther. If a fault can be justly found in him, it is that he is +sometimes too luxuriant, too redundant; says more than he needs, like my +friend “the Plain Dealer,” but never more than pleases. Add to this that +his thoughts are as just as those of Horace, and much more elevated; his +expressions are sonorous and more noble; his verse more numerous; and his +words are suitable to his thoughts, sublime and lofty. All these +contribute to the pleasure of the reader; and the greater the soul of him +who reads, his transports are the greater. Horace is always on the +amble, Juvenal on the gallop, but his way is perpetually on +carpet-ground. He goes with more impetuosity than Horace, but as +securely; and the swiftness adds a more lively agitation to the spirits. +The low style of Horace is according to his subject—that is, generally +grovelling. I question not but he could have raised it, for the first +epistle of the second book, which he writes to Augustus (a most +instructive satire concerning poetry), is of so much dignity in the +words, and of so much elegancy in the numbers, that the author plainly +shows the _sermo pedestris_ in his other satires was rather his choice +than his necessity. He was a rival to Lucilius, his predecessor, and was +resolved to surpass him in his own manner. Lucilius, as we see by his +remaining fragments, minded neither his style, nor his numbers, nor his +purity of words, nor his run of verse. Horace therefore copes with him +in that humble way of satire, writes under his own force, and carries a +dead weight, that he may match his competitor in the race. This, I +imagine, was the chief reason why he minded only the clearness of his +satire, and the cleanness of expression, without ascending to those +heights to which his own vigour might have carried him. But limiting his +desires only to the conquest of Lucilius, he had his ends of his rival, +who lived before him, but made way for a new conquest over himself by +Juvenal his successor. He could not give an equal pleasure to his +reader, because he used not equal instruments. The fault was in the +tools, and not in the workman. But versification and numbers are the +greatest pleasures of poetry. Virgil knew it, and practised both so +happily that, for aught I know, his greatest excellency is in his +diction. In all other parts of poetry he is faultless, but in this he +placed his chief perfection. And give me leave, my lord, since I have +here an apt occasion, to say that Virgil could have written sharper +satires than either Horace or Juvenal if he would have employed his +talent that way. I will produce a verse and half of his, in one of his +Eclogues, to justify my opinion, and with commas after every word, to +show that he has given almost as many lashes as he has written syllables. +It is against a bad poet, whose ill verses he describes:— + + “_Non tu_, _in triviis indocte_, _solebas_ + _Stridenti_, _miserum_, _stipulâ_, _disperdere carmen_?” + +But to return to my purpose. When there is anything deficient in numbers +and sound, the reader is uneasy and unsatisfied; he wants something of +his complement, desires somewhat which he finds not: and this being the +manifest defect of Horace, it is no wonder that, finding it supplied in +Juvenal, we are more delighted with him. And besides this, the sauce of +Juvenal is more poignant, to create in us an appetite of reading him. +The meat of Horace is more nourishing, but the cookery of Juvenal more +exquisite; so that, granting Horace to be the more general philosopher, +we cannot deny that Juvenal was the greater poet—I mean, in satire. His +thoughts are sharper, his indignation against vice is more vehement, his +spirit has more of the commonwealth genius; he treats tyranny, and all +the vices attending it, as they deserve, with the utmost rigour; and +consequently a noble soul is better pleased with a zealous vindicator of +Roman liberty than with a temporising poet, a well-mannered court slave, +and a man who is often afraid of laughing in the right place—who is ever +decent, because he is naturally servile. + +After all, Horace had the disadvantage of the times in which he lived; +they were better for the man, but worse for the satirist. It is +generally said that those enormous vices which were practised under the +reign of Domitian were unknown in the time of Augustus Cæsar; that +therefore Juvenal had a larger field than Horace. Little follies were +out of doors when oppression was to be scourged instead of avarice; it +was no longer time to turn into ridicule the false opinions of +philosophers when the Roman liberty was to be asserted. There was more +need of a Brutus in Domitian’s days to redeem or mend, than of a Horace, +if he had then been living, to laugh at a fly-catcher. This reflection +at the same time excuses Horace, but exalts Juvenal. I have ended, +before I was aware, the comparison of Horace and Juvenal upon the topics +of instruction and delight; and indeed I may safely here conclude that +commonplace: for if we make Horace our minister of state in satire, and +Juvenal of our private pleasures, I think the latter has no ill bargain +of it. Let profit have the pre-eminence of honour in the end of poetry; +pleasure, though but the second in degree, is the first in favour. And +who would not choose to be loved better rather than to be more esteemed! +But I am entered already upon another topic, which concerns the +particular merits of these two satirists. However, I will pursue my +business where I left it, and carry it farther than that common +observation of the several ages in which these authors flourished. + +When Horace writ his satires, the monarchy of his Cæsar was in its +newness, and the government but just made easy to the conquered people. +They could not possibly have forgotten the usurpation of that prince upon +their freedom, nor the violent methods which he had used in the +compassing of that vast design; they yet remembered his proscriptions, +and the slaughter of so many noble Romans their defenders—amongst the +rest, that horrible action of his when he forced Livia from the arms of +her husband (who was constrained to see her married, as Dion relates the +story), and, big with child as she was, conveyed to the bed of his +insulting rival. The same Dion Cassius gives us another instance of the +crime before mentioned—that Cornelius Sisenna, being reproached in full +senate with the licentious conduct of his wife, returned this answer: +that he had married her by the counsel of Augustus (intimating, says my +author, that Augustus had obliged him to that marriage, that he might +under that covert have the more free access to her). His adulteries were +still before their eyes, but they must be patient where they had not +power. In other things that emperor was moderate enough; propriety was +generally secured, and the people entertained with public shows and +donatives, to make them more easily digest their lost liberty. But +Augustus, who was conscious to himself of so many crimes which he had +committed, thought in the first place to provide for his own reputation +by making an edict against lampoons and satires, and the authors of those +defamatory writings, which my author Tacitus, from the law-term, calls +_famosos libellos_. + +In the first book of his Annals he gives the following account of it in +these words:—_Primus Augustus cognitionem de famosis libellis_, _specie +legis ejus_, _tractavit_; _commotus Cassii Severi libidine_, _quâ viros +fæminasque illustres procacibus scriptis diffamaverat_. Thus in +English:—“Augustus was the first who, under the colour of that law, took +cognisance of lampoons, being provoked to it by the petulancy of Cassius +Severus, who had defamed many illustrious persons of both sexes in his +writings.” The law to which Tacitus refers was _Lex læsæ majestatis_; +commonly called, for the sake of brevity, _majestas_; or, as we say, +high-treason. He means not that this law had not been enacted formerly +(for it had been made by the Decemviri, and was inscribed amongst the +rest in the Twelve Tables, to prevent the aspersion of the Roman majesty, +either of the people themselves, or their religion, or their magistrates; +and the infringement of it was capital—that is, the offender was whipped +to death with the fasces which were borne before their chief officers of +Rome), but Augustus was the first who restored that intermitted law. By +the words “under colour of that law” he insinuates that Augustus caused +it to be executed on pretence of those libels which were written by +Cassius Severus against the nobility, but in truth to save himself from +such defamatory verses. Suetonius likewise makes mention of it +thus:—_Sparsos de se in curiâ famosos libellos_, _nec exparit_, _et magnâ +curâ redarguit_. _Ac ne requisitis quidem auctoribus_, _id modo +censuit_, _cognoscendum posthac de iis qui libellos aut carmina ad +infamiam cujuspiam sub alieno nomine edant_. “Augustus was not afraid of +libels,” says that author, “yet he took all care imaginable to have them +answered, and then decreed that for the time to come the authors of them +should be punished.” But Aurelius makes it yet more clear, according to +my sense, that this emperor for his own sake durst not permit +them:—_Fecit id Augustus in speciem_, _et quasi gratificaretur populo +Romano_, _et primoribus urbis_; _sed revera ut sibi consuleret_: _nam +habuit in animo comprimere nimiam quorundam procacitatem in loquendo_, _à +quâ nec ipse exemptus fuit_. _Nam suo nomine compescere erat +invidiosum_, _sub alieno facile et utile_. _Ergo specie legis +tractavit_, _quasi populi Romani majestas infamaretur_. This, I think, +is a sufficient comment on that passage of Tacitus. I will add only by +the way that the whole family of the Cæsars and all their relations were +included in the law, because the majesty of the Romans in the time of the +Empire was wholly in that house: _Omnia Cæsar erat_; they were all +accounted sacred who belonged to him. As for Cassius Severus, he was +contemporary with Horace, and was the same poet against whom he writes in +his epodes under this title, _In Cassium Severum_, _maledicum +poctam_—perhaps intending to kill two crows, according to our proverb, +with one stone, and revenge both himself and his emperor together. + +From hence I may reasonably conclude that Augustus, who was not +altogether so good as he was wise, had some by-respect in the enacting of +this law; for to do anything for nothing was not his maxim. Horace, as +he was a courtier, complied with the interest of his master; and, +avoiding the lashing of greater crimes, confined himself to the +ridiculing of petty vices and common follies, excepting only some +reserved cases in his odes and epodes of his own particular quarrels +(which either with permission of the magistrate or without it, every man +will revenge, though I say not that he should; for _prior læsit_ is a +good excuse in the civil law if Christianity had not taught us to +forgive). However, he was not the proper man to arraign great vices; at +least, if the stories which we hear of him are true—that he practised +some which I will not here mention, out of honour to him. It was not for +a Clodius to accuse adulterers, especially when Augustus was of that +number. So that, though his age was not exempted from the worst of +villainies, there was no freedom left to reprehend them by reason of the +edict; and our poet was not fit to represent them in an odious character, +because himself was dipped in the same actions. Upon this account, +without further insisting on the different tempers of Juvenal and Horace, +I conclude that the subjects which Horace chose for satire are of a lower +nature than those of which Juvenal has written. + +Thus I have treated, in a new method, the comparison betwixt Horace, +Juvenal, and Persius. Somewhat of their particular manner, belonging to +all of them, is yet remaining to be considered. Persius was grave, and +particularly opposed his gravity to lewdness, which was the predominant +vice in Nero’s court at the time when he published his satires, which was +before that emperor fell into the excess of cruelty. Horace was a mild +admonisher, a court satirist, fit for the gentle times of Augustus, and +more fit for the reasons which I have already given. Juvenal was as +proper for his times as they for theirs; his was an age that deserved a +more severe chastisement; vices were more gross and open, more +flagitious, more encouraged by the example of a tyrant, and more +protected by his authority. Therefore, wheresoever Juvenal mentions +Nero, he means Domitian, whom he dares not attack in his own person, but +scourges him by proxy. Heinsius urges in praise of Horace that, +according to the ancient art and law of satire, it should be nearer to +comedy than to tragedy; not declaiming against vice, but only laughing at +it. Neither Persius nor Juvenal was ignorant of this, for they had both +studied Horace. And the thing itself is plainly true. But as they had +read Horace, they had likewise read Lucilius, of whom Persius says, +_Secuit urbem_; . . . _et genuinum fregit in illis_; meaning Mutius and +Lupus; and Juvenal also mentions him in these words:— + + “_Ense velut stricto_, _quoties Lucilius ardens_ + _Infremuit_, _rubet auditor_, _cui frigida mens est_ + _Criminibus_, _tacitá sulant præcordia culpâ_.” + +So that they thought the imitation of Lucilius was more proper to their +purpose than that of Horace. “They changed satire,” says Holyday, “but +they changed it for the better; for the business being to reform great +vices, chastisement goes farther than admonition; whereas a perpetual +grin, like that of Horace, does rather anger than amend a man.” + +Thus far that learned critic Barten Holyday, whose interpretation and +illustrations of Juvenal are as excellent as the verse of his translation +and his English are lame and pitiful; for it is not enough to give us the +meaning of a poet (which I acknowledge him to have performed most +faithfully) but he must also imitate his genius and his numbers as far as +the English will come up to the elegance of the original. In few words, +it is only for a poet to translate a poet. Holyday and Stapleton had not +enough considered this when they attempted Juvenal; but I forbear +reflections: only I beg leave to take notice of this sentence, where +Holyday says, “a perpetual grin, like that of Horace, rather angers than +amends a man.” I cannot give him up the manner of Horace in low satire +so easily. Let the chastisements of Juvenal be never so necessary for +his new kind of satire, let him declaim as wittily and sharply as he +pleases, yet still the nicest and most delicate touches of satire consist +in fine raillery. This, my lord, is your particular talent, to which +even Juvenal could not arrive. It is not reading, it is not imitation +of, an author which can produce this fineness; it must be inborn; it must +proceed from a genius, and particular way of thinking, which is not to be +taught, and therefore not to be imitated by him who has it not from +nature. How easy it is to call rogue and villain, and that wittily! but +how hard to make a man appear a fool, a blockhead, or a knave, without +using any of those opprobrious terms! To spare the grossness of the +names, and to do the thing yet more severely, is to draw a full face and +to make the nose and cheeks stand out, and yet not to employ any depth of +shadowing. This is the mystery of that noble trade, which yet no master +can teach to his apprentice; he may give the rules, but the scholar is +never the nearer in his practice. Neither is it true that this fineness +of raillery is offensive; a witty man is tickled, while he is hurt in +this manner; and a fool feels it not. The occasion of an offence may +possibly be given, but he cannot take it. If it be granted that in +effect this way does more mischief; that a man is secretly wounded, and +though he be not sensible himself, yet the malicious world will find it +for him; yet there is still a vast difference betwixt the slovenly +butchering of a man, and the fineness of a stroke that separates the head +from the body and leaves it standing in its place. A man may be capable, +as Jack Ketch’s wife said of his servant, of a plain piece of work, a +bare hanging; but to make a malefactor die sweetly was only belonging to +her husband. I wish I could apply it to myself, if the reader would be +kind enough to think it belongs to me. The character of Zimri, in my +“Absalom” is, in my opinion, worth the whole poem; it is not bloody, but +it is ridiculous enough; and he for whom it was intended was too witty to +resent it as an injury. If I had railed, I might have suffered for it +justly; but I managed my own work more happily, perhaps more dexterously. +I avoided the mention of great crimes, and applied myself to the +representing of blind-sides and little extravagances; to which the +wittier a man is, he is generally the more obnoxious. It succeeded as I +wished; the jest went round, and he was laughed at in his turn who began +the frolic. + +And thus, my lord, you see I have preferred the manner of Horace and of +your lordship in this kind of satire to that of Juvenal, and, I think, +reasonably. Holyday ought not to have arraigned so great an author for +that which was his excellency and his merit; or, if he did, on such a +palpable mistake he might expect that some one might possibly arise +(either in his own time, or after him) to rectify his error, and restore +to Horace that commendation of which he has so unjustly robbed him. And +let the manes of Juvenal forgive me if I say that this way of Horace was +the best for amending manners, as it is the most difficult. His was an +_ense rescindendum_; but that of Horace was a pleasant cure, with all the +limbs preserved entire, and, as our mountebanks tell us in their bills, +without keeping the patient within doors for a day. What they promise +only, Horace has effectually performed. Yet I contradict not the +proposition which I formerly advanced. Juvenal’s times required a more +painful kind of operation; but if he had lived in the age of Horace, I +must needs affirm that he had it not about him. He took the method which +was prescribed him by his own genius, which was sharp and eager; he could +not railly, but he could declaim: and as his provocations were great, he +has revenged them tragically. This, notwithstanding I am to say another +word which, as true as it is, will yet displease the partial admirers of +our Horace; I have hinted it before, but it is time for me now to speak +more plainly. + +This manner of Horace is indeed the best; but Horace has not executed it +altogether so happily—at least, not often. The manner of Juvenal is +confessed to be inferior to the former; but Juvenal has excelled him in +his performance. Juvenal has railed more wittily than Horace has +rallied. Horace means to make his reader laugh, but he is not sure of +his experiment. Juvenal always intends to move your indignation, and he +always brings about his purpose. Horace, for aught I know, might have +tickled the people of his age, but amongst the moderns he is not so +successful. They who say he entertains so pleasantly, may perhaps value +themselves on the quickness of their own understandings, that they can +see a jest farther off than other men; they may find occasion of laughter +in the wit-battle of the two buffoons Sarmentus and Cicerrus, and hold +their sides for fear of bursting when Rupilius and Persius are scolding. +For my own part, I can only like the characters of all four, which are +judiciously given; but for my heart I cannot so much as smile at their +insipid raillery. I see not why Persius should call upon Brutus to +revenge him on his adversary; and that because he had killed Julius Cæsar +for endeavouring to be a king, therefore he should be desired to murder +Rupilius, only because his name was Mr. King. A miserable clench, in my +opinion, for Horace to record; I have heard honest Mr. Swan make many a +better, and yet have had the grace to hold my countenance. But it may be +puns were then in fashion, as they were wit in the sermons of the last +age, and in the court of King Charles the Second. I am sorry to say it, +for the sake of Horace; but certain it is, he has no fine palate who can +feed so heartily on garbage. + +But I have already wearied myself, and doubt not but I have tired your +lordship’s patience, with this long, rambling, and, I fear, trivial +discourse. Upon the one-half of the merits, that is, pleasure, I cannot +but conclude that Juvenal was the better satirist. They who will descend +into his particular praises may find them at large in the dissertation of +the learned Rigaltius to Thuanus. As for Persius, I have given the +reasons why I think him inferior to both of them; yet I have one thing to +add on that subject. + +Barten Holyday, who translated both Juvenal and Persius, has made this +distinction betwixt them, which is no less true than witty—that in +Persius, the difficulty is to find a meaning; in Juvenal, to choose a +meaning; so crabbed is Persius, and so copious is Juvenal; so much the +understanding is employed in one, and so much the judgment in the other; +so difficult is it to find any sense in the former, and the best sense of +the latter. + +If, on the other side, any one suppose I have commended Horace below his +merit, when I have allowed him but the second place, I desire him to +consider if Juvenal (a man of excellent natural endowments, besides the +advantages of diligence and study, and coming after him and building upon +his foundations) might not probably, with all these helps, surpass him; +and whether it be any dishonour to Horace to be thus surpassed, since no +art or science is at once begun and perfected but that it must pass first +through many hands and even through several ages. If Lucilius could add +to Ennius and Horace to Lucilius, why, without any diminution to the fame +of Horace, might not Juvenal give the last perfection to that work? Or +rather, what disreputation is it to Horace that Juvenal excels in the +tragical satire, as Horace does in the comical? I have read over +attentively both Heinsius and Dacier in their commendations of Horace, +but I can find no more in either of them for the preference of him to +Juvenal than the instructive part (the part of wisdom, and not that of +pleasure), which therefore is here allowed him, notwithstanding what +Scaliger and Rigaltius have pleaded to the contrary for Juvenal. And to +show I am impartial I will here translate what Dacier has said on that +subject:— + + “I cannot give a more just idea of the two books of satires made by + Horace than by comparing them to the statues of the Sileni, to which + Alcibiades compares Socrates in the Symposium. They were figures + which had nothing of agreeable, nothing of beauty on their outside; + but when any one took the pains to open them and search into them, he + there found the figures of all the deities. So in the shape that + Horace presents himself to us in his satires we see nothing at the + first view which deserves our attention; it seems that he is rather + an amusement for children than for the serious consideration of men. + But when we take away his crust, and that which hides him from our + sight, when we discover him to the bottom, then we find all the + divinities in a full assembly—that is to say, all the virtues which + ought to be the continual exercise of those who seriously endeavour + to correct their vices.” + +It is easy to observe that Dacier, in this noble similitude, has confined +the praise of his author wholly to the instructive part the commendation +turns on this, and so does that which follows:— + + “In these two books of satire it is the business of Horace to + instruct us how to combat our vices, to regulate our passions, to + follow nature, to give bounds to our desires, to distinguish betwixt + truth and falsehood, and betwixt our conceptions of things and things + themselves; to come back from our prejudicate opinions, to understand + exactly the principles and motives of all our actions; and to avoid + the ridicule into which all men necessarily fall who are intoxicated + with those notions which they have received from their masters, and + which they obstinately retain without examining whether or no they be + founded on right reason. + + “In a word, he labours to render us happy in relation to ourselves; + agreeable and faithful to our friends; and discreet, serviceable, and + well-bred in relation to those with whom we are obliged to live and + to converse. To make his figures intelligible, to conduct his + readers through the labyrinth of some perplexed sentence or obscure + parenthesis, is no great matter; and, as Epictetus says, there is + nothing of beauty in all this, or what is worthy of a prudent man. + The principal business, and which is of most importance to us, is to + show the use, the reason, and the proof of his precepts. + + “They who endeavour not to correct themselves according to so exact a + model are just like the patients who have open before them a book of + admirable receipts for their diseases, and please themselves with + reading it without comprehending the nature of the remedies or how to + apply them to their cure.” + +Let Horace go off with these encomiums, which he has so well deserved. + +To conclude the contention betwixt our three poets I will use the words +of Virgil in his fifth Æneid, where Æneas proposes the rewards of the +foot-race to the three first who should reach the goal:— + + “_Tres præmia primi_ . . . + _Accipient_, _flauâque caput nectentur olivâ_.” + +Let these three ancients be preferred to all the moderns as first +arriving at the goal; let them all be crowned as victors with the wreath +that properly belongs to satire. But after that, with this distinction +amongst themselves:— + + “_Primus equum phaleris insignem victor habeto_.” + +Let Juvenal ride first in triumph. + + “_Alter Amazoniam pharetram_, _plenamque sagittis_ + _Threiciis_, _lato quam circumplectitur auro_ + _Balteus_, _et tereti subnectit fibula gemmâ_.” + +Let Horace, who is the second (and but just the second), carry off the +quiver and the arrows as the badges of his satire, and the golden belt +and the diamond button. + + “_Tertius Argolico hoc clypeo contentus abito_.” + +And let Persius, the last of the first three worthies, be contented with +this Grecian shield, and with victory—not only over all the Grecians, who +were ignorant of the Roman satire—but over all the moderns in succeeding +ages, excepting Boileau and your lordship. + +And thus I have given the history of satire, and derived it as far as +from Ennius to your lordship—that is, from its first rudiments of +barbarity to its last polishing and perfection; which is, with Virgil, in +his address to Augustus— + + “_Nomen famâ tot ferre per annos_, . . . + _Tithoni primâ quot abest ab origine Cæsar_.” + +I said only from Ennius, but I may safely carry it higher, as far as +Livius Andronicus, who, as I have said formerly, taught the first play at +Rome in the year _ab urbe conditâ_ CCCCCXIV. I have since desired my +learned friend Mr. Maidwell to compute the difference of times betwixt +Aristophanes and Livius Andronicus; and he assures me from the best +chronologers that _Plutus_, the last of Aristophanes’ plays, was +represented at Athens in the year of the 97th Olympiad, which agrees with +the year _urbis conditæ_ CCCLXIV. So that the difference of years +betwixt Aristophanes and Andronicus is 150; from whence I have probably +deduced that Livius Andronicus, who was a Grecian, had read the plays of +the old comedy, which were satirical, and also of the new; for Menander +was fifty years before him, which must needs be a great light to him in +his own plays that were of the satirical nature. That the Romans had +farces before this, it is true; but then they had no communication with +Greece; so that Andronicus was the first who wrote after the manner of +the old comedy, in his plays: he was imitated by Ennius about thirty +years afterwards. Though the former writ fables, the latter, speaking +properly, began the Roman satire, according to that description which +Juvenal gives of it in his first:— + + “_Quicquid agunt homines_, _votum_, _timor_, _ira voluptas_, + _Gaudia_, _discurses_, _nostri est farrago libelli_.” + +This is that in which I have made hold to differ from Casaubon, +Rigaltius, Dacier, and indeed from all the modern critics—that not +Ennius, but Andronicus, was the first who, by the _archæa comedia_ of the +Greeks, added many beauties to the first rude and barbarous Roman satire; +which sort of poem, though we had not derived from Rome, yet nature +teaches it mankind in all ages and in every country. + +It is but necessary that, after so much has been said of satire, some +definition of it should be given. Heinsius, in his Dissertations on +Horace, makes it for me in these words:—“Satire is a kind of poetry, +without a series of action, invented for the purging of our minds; in +which human vices, ignorance, and errors, and all things besides which +are produced from them in every man, are severely reprehended—partly +dramatically, partly simply, and sometimes in both kinds of speaking, but +for the most part figuratively and occultly; consisting, in a low +familiar way, chiefly in a sharp and pungent manner of speech, but partly +also in a facetious and civil way of jesting, by which either hatred or +laughter or indignation is moved.” Where I cannot but observe that this +obscure and perplexed definition, or rather description of satire, is +wholly accommodated to the Horatian way, and excluding the works of +Juvenal and Persius as foreign from that kind of poem. The clause in the +beginning of it, “without a series of action,” distinguishes satire +properly from stage-plays, which are all of one action and one continued +series of action. The end or scope of satire is to purge the passions; +so far it is common to the satires of Juvenal and Persius. The rest +which follows is also generally belonging to all three, till he comes +upon us with the excluding clause, “consisting, in a low familiar way of +speech” which is the proper character of Horace, and from which the other +two (for their honour be it spoken) are far distant. But how come +lowness of style and the familiarity of words to be so much the propriety +of satire that without them a poet can be no more a satirist than without +risibility he can be a man? Is the fault of Horace to be made the virtue +and standing rule of this poem? Is the _grande sophos_ of Persius, and +the sublimity of Juvenal, to be circumscribed with the meanness of words +and vulgarity of expression? If Horace refused the pains of numbers and +the loftiness of figures are they bound to follow so ill a precedent? +Let him walk afoot with his pad in his hand for his own pleasure, but let +not them be accounted no poets who choose to mount and show their +horsemanship. Holyday is not afraid to say that there was never such a +fall as from his odes to his satires, and that he, injuriously to +himself, untuned his harp. The majestic way of Persius and Juvenal was +new when they began it, but it is old to us; and what poems have not, +with time, received an alteration in their fashion?—“which alteration,” +says Holyday, “is to after-times as good a warrant as the first.” Has +not Virgil changed the manners of Homer’s heroes in his Æneis? Certainly +he has, and for the better; for Virgil’s age was more civilised and +better bred, and he writ according to the politeness of Rome under the +reign of Augustus Cæsar, not to the rudeness of Agamemnon’s age or the +times of Homer. Why should we offer to confine free spirits to one form +when we cannot so much as confine our bodies to one fashion of apparel? +Would not Donne’s satires, which abound with so much wit, appear more +charming if he had taken care of his words and of his numbers? But he +followed Horace so very close that of necessity he must fall with him; +and I may safely say it of this present age, that if we are not so great +wits as Donne, yet certainly we are better poets. + +But I have said enough, and it may be too much, on this subject. Will +your lordship be pleased to prolong my audience only so far till I tell +you my own trivial thoughts how a modern satire should be made? I will +not deviate in the least from the precepts and examples of the ancients, +who were always our best masters; I will only illustrate them, and +discover some of the hidden beauties in their designs, that we thereby +may form our own in imitation of them. Will you please but to observe +that Persius, the least in dignity of all the three, has, +notwithstanding, been the first who has discovered to us this important +secret in the designing of a perfect satire—that it ought only to treat +of one subject; to be confined to one particular theme, or, at least, to +one principally? If other vices occur in the management of the chief, +they should only be transiently lashed, and not be insisted on, so as to +make the design double. As in a play of the English fashion which we +call a tragicomedy, there is to be but one main design, and though there +be an under-plot or second walk of comical characters and adventures, yet +they are subservient to the chief fable, carried along under it and +helping to it, so that the drama may not seem a monster with two heads. +Thus the Copernican system of the planets makes the moon to be moved by +the motion of the earth, and carried about her orb as a dependent of +hers. Mascardi, in his discourse of the “Doppia Favola,” or double tale +in plays, gives an instance of it in the famous pastoral of Guarini, +called _Il Pastor Fido_, where Corisca and the Satyr are the under-parts; +yet we may observe that Corisca is brought into the body of the plot and +made subservient to it. It is certain that the divine wit of Horace was +not ignorant of this rule—that a play, though it consists of many parts, +must yet be one in the action, and must drive on the accomplishment of +one design—for he gives this very precept, _Sit quod vis simplex +duntaxat_, _et unum_; yet he seems not much to mind it in his satires, +many of them consisting of more arguments than one, and the second +without dependence on the first. Casaubon has observed this before me in +his preference of Persius to Horace, and will have his own beloved author +to be the first who found out and introduced this method of confining +himself to one subject. + +I know it may be urged in defence of Horace that this unity is not +necessary, because the very word _satura_ signifies a dish plentifully +stored with all variety of fruits and grains. Yet Juvenal, who calls his +poems a _farrago_ (which is a word of the same signification with +_satura_), has chosen to follow the same method of Persius and not of +Horace; and Boileau, whose example alone is a sufficient authority, has +wholly confined himself in all his satires to this unity of design. That +variety which is not to be found in any one satire is at least in many, +written on several occasions; and if variety be of absolute necessity in +every one of them, according to the etymology of the word, yet it may +arise naturally from one subject, as it is diversely treated in the +several subordinate branches of it, all relating to the chief. It may be +illustrated accordingly with variety of examples in the subdivisions of +it, and with as many precepts as there are members of it, which all +together may complete that _olla_ or hotch-potch which is properly a +satire. + +Under this unity of theme or subject is comprehended another rule for +perfecting the design of true satire. The poet is bound, and that _ex +officio_, to give his reader some one precept of moral virtue, and to +caution him against some one particular vice or folly. Other virtues, +subordinate to the first, may be recommended under that chief head, and +other vices or follies may be scourged, besides that which he principally +intends; but he is chiefly to inculcate one virtue, and insist on that. +Thus Juvenal, in every satire excepting the first, ties himself to one +principal instructive point, or to the shunning of moral evil. Even in +the sixth, which seems only an arraignment of the whole sex of womankind, +there is a latent admonition to avoid ill women, by showing how very few +who are virtuous and good are to be found amongst them. But this, though +the wittiest of all his satires, has yet the least of truth or +instruction in it; he has run himself into his old declamatory way, and +almost forgotten that he was now setting up for a moral poet. + +Persius is never wanting to us in some profitable doctrine, and in +exposing the opposite vices to it. His kind of philosophy is one, which +is the Stoic, and every satire is a comment on one particular dogma of +that sect, unless we will except the first, which is against bad writers; +and yet even there he forgets not the precepts of the “porch.” In +general, all virtues are everywhere to be praised and recommended to +practice, and all vices to be reprehended and made either odious or +ridiculous, or else there is a fundamental error in the whole design. + +I have already declared who are the only persons that are the adequate +object of private satire, and who they are that may properly be exposed +by name for public examples of vices and follies, and therefore I will +trouble your lordship no further with them. Of the best and finest +manner of satire, I have said enough in the comparison betwixt Juvenal +and Horace; it is that sharp well-mannered way of laughing a folly out of +countenance, of which your lordship is the best master in this age. I +will proceed to the versification which is most proper for it, and add +somewhat to what I have said already on that subject. The sort of verse +which is called “burlesque,” consisting of eight syllables or four feet, +is that which our excellent Hudibras has chosen. I ought to have +mentioned him before when I spoke of Donne, but by a slip of an old man’s +memory he was forgotten. The worth of his poem is too well known to need +my commendation, and he is above my censure. His satire is of the +Varronian kind, though unmixed with prose. The choice of his numbers is +suitable enough to his design as he has managed it; but in any other hand +the shortness of his verse, and the quick returns of rhyme, had debased +the dignity of style. And besides, the double rhyme (a necessary +companion of burlesque writing) is not so proper for manly satire, for it +turns earnest too much to jest, and gives us a boyish kind of pleasure. +It tickles awkwardly, with a kind of pain to the best sort of readers; we +are pleased ungratefully, and, if I may say so, against our liking. We +thank him not for giving us that unseasonable delight, when we know he +could have given us a better and more solid. He might have left that +task to others who, not being able to put in thought, can only makes us +grin with the excrescence of a word of two or three syllables in the +close. It is, indeed, below so great a master to make use of such a +little instrument. But his good sense is perpetually shining through all +he writes; it affords us not the time of finding faults: we pass through +the levity of his rhyme, and are immediately carried into some admirable +useful thought. After all, he has chosen this kind of verse, and has +written the best in it, and had he taken another he would always have +excelled; as we say of a court favourite, that whatsoever his office be, +he still makes it uppermost and most beneficial to himself. + +The quickness of your imagination, my lord, has already prevented me; and +you know beforehand that I would prefer the verse of ten syllables, which +we call the English heroic, to that of eight. This is truly my opinion, +for this sort of number is more roomy; the thought can turn itself with +greater ease in a larger compass. When the rhyme comes too thick upon +us, it straitens the expression; we are thinking of the close when we +should be employed in adorning the thought. It makes a poet giddy with +turning in a space too narrow for his imagination; he loses many beauties +without gaining one advantage. For a burlesque rhyme I have already +concluded to be none; or, if it were, it is more easily purchased in ten +syllables than in eight. In both occasions it is as in a tennis-court, +when the strokes of greater force are given, when we strike out and play +at length. Tassoni and Boileau have left us the best examples of this +way in the “Seechia Rapita” and the “Lutrin,” and next them Merlin +Cocaius in his “Baldus.” I will speak only of the two former, because +the last is written in Latin verse. The “Secchia Rapita” is an Italian +poem, a satire of the Varronian kind. It is written in the stanza of +eight, which is their measure for heroic verse. The words are stately, +the numbers smooth; the turn both of thoughts and words is happy. The +first six lines of the stanza seem majestical and severe, but the two +last turn them all into a pleasant ridicule. Boileau, if I am not much +deceived, has modelled from hence his famous “Lutrin.” He had read the +burlesque poetry of Scarron with some kind of indignation, as witty as it +was, and found nothing in France that was worthy of his imitation; but he +copied the Italian so well that his own may pass for an original. He +writes it in the French heroic verse, and calls it an heroic poem; his +subject is trivial, but his verse is noble. I doubt not but he had +Virgil in his eye, for we find many admirable imitations of him, and some +parodies, as particularly this passage in the fourth of the Æneids— + + “_Nec tibi diva parens_, _generis nec Dardanus auctor_, + _Perfide_; _sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens_ + _Caucasus_, _Hyrrcanæque admôrunt ubera tigres_:” + +which he thus translates, keeping to the words, but altering the sense:— + + “_Non_, _ton père à Paris_, _ne fut point boulanger_: + _Et tu n’es point du sang de Gervais_, _l’horloger_; + _Ta mère ne fut point la maîtresse d’un coche_; + _Caucase dans ses flancs te forma d’une roché_; + _Une tigresse affreuse_, _en quelque antre écarté_, + _Te fit_, _avec son lait_, _succer sa cruauté_.” + +And as Virgil in his fourth Georgic of the bees, perpetually raises the +lowness of his subject by the loftiness of his words, and ennobles it by +comparisons drawn from empires and from monarchs— + + “_Admiranda tibi levium spectacula rerum_, + _Magnanimosque duces_, _totiusque ordine gentis_ + _Mores et studia_, _et populos_, _et prælia dicam_;” + +and again— + + “_At genus immortale manet_, _multosque per annos_ + _Stat fortuna domûs_, _et avi numerantur avorum_;” + +we see Boileau pursuing him in the same flights, and scarcely yielding to +his master. This I think, my lord, to be the most beautiful and most +noble kind of satire. Here is the majesty of the heroic finely mixed +with the venom of the other, and raising the delight, which otherwise +would be flat and vulgar, by the sublimity of the expression. I could +say somewhat more of the delicacy of this and some other of his satires, +but it might turn to his prejudice if it were carried back to France. + +I have given your lordship but this bare hint—in what verse and in what +manner this sort of satire may be best managed. Had I time I could +enlarge on the beautiful turns of words and thoughts which are as +requisite in this as in heroic poetry itself, of which the satire is +undoubtedly a species. With these beautiful turns I confess myself to +have been unacquainted till about twenty years ago. In a conversation +which I had with that noble wit of Scotland, Sir George Mackenzie, he +asked me why I did not imitate in my verses the turns of Mr. Waller and +Sir John Denham, of which he repeated many to me. I had often read with +pleasure, and with some profit, those two fathers of our English poetry, +but had not seriously enough considered those beauties which give the +last perfection to their works. Some sprinklings of this kind I had also +formerly in my plays; but they were casual, and not designed. But this +hint, thus seasonably given me, first made me sensible of my own wants, +and brought me afterwards to seek for the supply of them in other English +authors. I looked over the darling of my youth, the famous Cowley; there +I found, instead of them, the points of wit and quirks of epigram, even +in the “Davideis” (an heroic poem which is of an opposite nature to those +puerilities), but no elegant turns, either on the word or on the thought. +Then I consulted a greater genius (without offence to the manes of that +noble author)—I mean Milton; but as he endeavours everywhere to express +Homer, whose age had not arrived to that fineness, I found in him a true +sublimity, lofty thoughts which were clothed with admirable Grecisms and +ancient words, which he had been digging from the minds of Chaucer and +Spenser, and which, with all their rusticity, had somewhat of venerable +in them. But I found not there neither that for which I looked. At last +I had recourse to his master, Spenser, the author of that immortal poem +called the “Faerie Queen,” and there I met with that which I had been +looking for so long in vain. Spenser had studied Virgil to as much +advantage as Milton had done Homer, and amongst the rest of his +excellences had copied that. Looking farther into the Italian, I found +Tasso had done the same; nay, more, that all the sonnets in that language +are on the turn of the first thought—which Mr. Walsh, in his late +ingenious preface to his poems, has observed. In short, Virgil and Ovid +are the two principal fountains of them in Latin poetry. And the French +at this day are so fond of them that they judge them to be the first +beauties; _delicate_, _et bien tourné_, are the highest commendations +which they bestow on somewhat which they think a masterpiece. + +An example of the turn of words, amongst a thousand others, is that in +the last book of Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”:— + + “_Heu_! _quantum scelus est_, _in viscera_, _viscera condi_! + _Congestoque avidum pinguescere corpore corpus_; + _Alteriusque animantem animantis vivere leto_.” + +An example on the turn both of thoughts and words is to be found in +Catullus in the complaint of Ariadne when she was left by Theseus:— + + “_Tum jam nulla viro juranti fæmina credat_; + _Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles_; + _Qui_, _dum aliquid cupiens animus prægestit apisci_, + _Nil metuunt jurare_, _nihil promittere parcunt_: + _Sed simul ac cupidæ mentis satiata libido est_, + _Dicta nihil metuere_, _nihil perjuria curant_.” + +An extraordinary turn upon the words is that in Ovid’s “Epistolæ +Heroidum” of Sappho to Phaon:— + + “_Si_, _nisi quæ formâ poterit te digna videri_, + _Nulla futura tua est_, _nulla futura tua est_.” + +Lastly a turn, which I cannot say is absolutely on words—for the thought +turns with them—is in the fourth Georgic of Virgil, where Orpheus is to +receive his wife from hell on express condition not to look on her till +she was come on earth:— + + “Cum subita incautum dementia cepit amantem; + Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere Manes.” + +I will not burthen your lordship with more of them, for I write to a +master who understands them better than myself; but I may safely conclude +them to be great beauties. I might descend also to the mechanic beauties +of heroic verse; but we have yet no English Prosodia, not so much as a +tolerable dictionary or a grammar (so that our language is in a manner +barbarous); and what Government will encourage any one, or more, who are +capable of refining it, I know not: but nothing under a public expense +can go through with it. And I rather fear a declination of the language +than hope an advancement of it in the present age. + +I am still speaking to you, my lord, though in all probability you are +already out of hearing. Nothing which my meanness can produce is worthy +of this long attention. But I am come to the last petition of Abraham: +if there be ten righteous lines in this vast preface, spare it for their +sake; and also spare the next city, because it is but a little one. + +I would excuse the performance of this translation if it were all my own; +but the better, though not the greater, part being the work of some +gentlemen who have succeeded very happily in their undertaking, let their +excellences atone for my imperfections and those of my sons. I have +perused some of the Satires which are done by other hands, and they seem +to me as perfect in their kind as anything I have seen in English verse. +The common way which we have taken is not a literal translation, but a +kind of paraphrase; or somewhat which is yet more loose, betwixt a +paraphrase and imitation. It was not possible for us, or any men, to +have made it pleasant any other way. If rendering the exact sense of +these authors, almost line for line, had been our business, Barten +Holyday had done it already to our hands; and by the help of his learned +notes and illustrations, not only Juvenal and Persius, but, what yet is +more obscure, his own verses might be understood. + +But he wrote for fame, and wrote to scholars; we write only for the +pleasure and entertainment of those gentlemen and ladies who, though they +are not scholars, are not ignorant—persons of understanding and good +sense, who, not having been conversant in the original (or, at least, not +having made Latin verse so much their business as to be critics in it), +would be glad to find if the wit of our two great authors be answerable +to their fame and reputation in the world. We have therefore endeavoured +to give the public all the satisfaction we are able in this kind. + +And if we are not altogether so faithful to our author as our +predecessors Holyday and Stapleton, yet we may challenge to ourselves +this praise—that we shall be far more pleasing to our readers. We have +followed our authors at greater distance, though not step by step as they +have done; for oftentimes they have gone so close that they have trod on +the heels of Juvenal and Persius, and hurt them by their too near +approach. A noble author would not be pursued too close by a translator. +We lose his spirit when we think to take his body. The grosser part +remains with us, but the soul is flown away in some noble expression, or +some delicate turn of words or thought. Thus Holyday, who made this way +his choice, seized the meaning of Juvenal, but the poetry has always +escaped him. + +They who will not grant me that pleasure is one of the ends of poetry, +but that it is only a means of compassing the only end (which is +instruction), must yet allow that without the means of pleasure the +instruction is but a bare and dry philosophy, a crude preparation of +morals which we may have from Aristotle and Epictetus with more profit +than from any poet. Neither Holyday nor Stapleton have imitated Juvenal +in the poetical part of him, his diction, and his elocution. Nor, had +they been poets (as neither of them were), yet in the way they took, it +was impossible for them to have succeeded in the poetic part. + +The English verse which we call heroic consists of no more than ten +syllables; the Latin hexameter sometimes rises to seventeen; as, for +example, this verse in Virgil:— + + “Pulverulenta putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.” + +Here is the difference of no less than seven syllables in a line betwixt +the English and the Latin. Now the medium of these is about fourteen +syllables, because the dactyl is a more frequent foot in hexameters than +the spondee. But Holyday (without considering that he writ with the +disadvantage of four syllables less in every verse) endeavours to make +one of his lines to comprehend the sense of one of Juvenal’s. According +to the falsity of the proposition was the success. He was forced to +crowd his verse with ill-sounding monosyllables (of which our barbarous +language affords him a wild plenty), and by that means he arrived at his +pedantic end, which was to make a literal translation. His verses have +nothing of verse in them, but only the worst part of it—the rhyme; and +that, into the bargain, is far from good. But, which is more +intolerable, by cramming his ill-chosen and worse-sounding monosyllables +so close together, the very sense which he endeavours to explain is +become more obscure than that of his author; so that Holyday himself +cannot be understood without as large a commentary as that which he makes +on his two authors. For my own part, I can make a shift to find the +meaning of Juvenal without his notes, but his translation is more +difficult than his author. And I find beauties in the Latin to +recompense my pains; but in Holyday and Stapleton my ears, in the first +place, are mortally offended, and then their sense is so perplexed that I +return to the original as the more pleasing task as well as the more +easy. + +This must be said for our translation—that if we give not the whole sense +of Juvenal, yet we give the most considerable part of it; we give it, in +general, so clearly that few notes are sufficient to make us +intelligible. We make our author at least appear in a poetic dress. We +have actually made him more sounding and more elegant than he was before +in English, and have endeavoured to make him speak that kind of English +which he would have spoken had he lived in England and had written to +this age. If sometimes any of us (and it is but seldom) make him express +the customs and manners of our native country rather than of Rome, it is +either when there was some kind of analogy betwixt their customs and +ours, or when (to make him more easy to vulgar understandings) we gave +him those manners which are familiar to us. But I defend not this +innovation; it is enough if I can excuse it. For (to speak sincerely) +the manners of nations and ages are not to be confounded; we should +either make them English or leave them Roman. If this can neither be +defended nor excused, let it be pardoned at least, because it is +acknowledged; and so much the more easily as being a fault which is never +committed without some pleasure to the reader. + +Thus, my lord, having troubled you with a tedious visit, the best manners +will be shown in the least ceremony. I will slip away while your back is +turned, and while you are otherwise employed; with great confusion for +having entertained you so long with this discourse, and for having no +other recompense to make you than the worthy labours of my +fellow-undertakers in this work, and the thankful acknowledgments, +prayers, and perpetual good wishes of, + +My Lord, + + Your Lordship’s + + Most obliged, most humble, and + Most obedient servant, + + JOHN DRYDEN. + + + + +A DISCOURSE ON EPIC POETRY. + + + ADDRESSED TO THE MOST HONOURABLE + + JOHN, LORD MARQUIS OF NORMANBY, + +EARL OF MULGRAVE, ETC., AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER. + +AN HEROIC poem (truly such) is undoubtedly the greatest work which the +soul of man is capable to perform. The design of it is to form the mind +to heroic virtue by example; it is conveyed in verse that it may delight +while it instructs. The action of it is always one, entire, and great. +The least and most trivial episodes or under-actions which are interwoven +in it are parts either necessary or convenient to carry on the main +design—either so necessary that without them the poem must be imperfect, +or so convenient that no others can be imagined more suitable to the +place in which they are. There is nothing to be left void in a firm +building; even the cavities ought not to be filled with rubbish which is +of a perishable kind—destructive to the strength—but with brick or stone +(though of less pieces, yet of the same nature), and fitted to the +crannies. Even the least portions of them must be of the epic kind; all +things must be grave, majestical, and sublime; nothing of a foreign +nature, like the trifling novels which Ariosto and others have inserted +in their poems, by which the reader is misled into another sort of +pleasure, opposite to that which is designed in an epic poem. One raises +the soul and hardens it to virtue; the other softens it again and unbends +it into vice. One conduces to the poet’s aim (the completing of his +work), which he is driving on, labouring, and hastening in every line; +the other slackens his pace, diverts him from his way, and locks him up +like a knight-errant in an enchanted castle when he should be pursuing +his first adventure. Statius (as Bossu has well observed) was ambitions +of trying his strength with his master, Virgil, as Virgil had before +tried his with Homer. The Grecian gave the two Romans an example in the +games which were celebrated at the funerals of Patroclus. Virgil +imitated the invention of Homer, but changed the sports. But both the +Greek and Latin poet took their occasions from the subject, though (to +confess the truth) they were both ornamental, or, at best, convenient +parts of it, rather than of necessity arising from it. Statius (who +through his whole poem is noted for want of conduct and judgment), +instead of staying, as he might have done, for the death of Capaneus, +Hippomedon, Tydeus, or some other of his Seven Champions (who are heroes +all alike), or more properly for the tragical end of the two brothers +whose exequies the next successor had leisure to perform when the siege +was raised, and in the interval betwixt the poet’s first action and his +second, went out of his way—as it were, on prepense malice—to commit a +fault; for he took his opportunity to kill a royal infant by the means of +a serpent (that author of all evil) to make way for those funeral honours +which he intended for him. Now if this innocent had been of any relation +to his Thebais, if he had either farthered or hindered the taking of the +town, the poet might have found some sorry excuse at least for detaining +the reader from the promised siege. On these terms this Capaneus of a +poet engaged his two immortal predecessors, and his success was +answerable to his enterprise. + +If this economy must be observed in the minutest parts of an epic poem, +which to a common reader seem to be detached from the body, and almost +independent of it, what soul, though sent into the world with great +advantages of nature, cultivated with the liberal arts and sciences, +conversant with histories of the dead, and enriched with observations on +the living, can be sufficient to inform the whole body of so great a +work? I touch here but transiently, without any strict method, on some +few of those many rules of imitating nature which Aristotle drew from +Homer’s “Iliads” and “Odysses,” and which he fitted to the +drama—furnishing himself also with observations from the practice of the +theatre when it flourished under Æschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles (for +the original of the stage was from the epic poem). Narration, doubtless, +preceded acting, and gave laws to it. What at first was told artfully +was in process of time represented gracefully to the sight and hearing. +Those episodes of Homer which were proper for the stage, the poets +amplified each into an action. Out of his limbs they formed their +bodies; what he had contracted, they enlarged; out of one Hercules were +made infinity of pigmies, yet all endued with human souls; for from him, +their great creator, they have each of them the _divinæ particulam auræ_. +They flowed from him at first, and are at last resolved into him. Nor +were they only animated by him, but their measure and symmetry was owing +to him. His one, entire, and great action was copied by them, according +to the proportions of the drama. If he finished his orb within the year, +it sufficed to teach them that their action being less, and being also +less diversified with incidents, their orb, of consequence, must be +circumscribed in a less compass, which they reduced within the limits +either of a natural or an artificial day. So that, as he taught them to +amplify what he had shortened, by the same rule applied the contrary way +he taught them to shorten what he had amplified. Tragedy is the +miniature of human life; an epic poem is the draft at length. Here, my +lord, I must contract also, for before I was aware I was almost running +into a long digression to prove that there is no such absolute necessity +that the time of a stage-action should so strictly be confined to +twenty-four hours as never to exceed them (for which Aristotle contends, +and the Grecian stage has practised). Some longer space on some +occasions, I think, may be allowed, especially for the English theatre, +which requires more variety of incidents than the French. Corneille +himself, after long practice, was inclined to think that the time +allotted by the ancients was too short to raise and finish a great +action; and better a mechanic rule were stretched or broken than a great +beauty were omitted. To raise, and afterwards to calm, the passions; to +purge the soul from pride by the examples of human miseries which befall +the greatest; in few words, to expel arrogance and introduce compassion, +are the great effects of tragedy—great, I must confess, if they were +altogether as true as they are pompous. But are habits to be introduced +at three hours’ warning? Are radical diseases so suddenly removed? A +mountebank may promise such a cure, but a skilful physician will not +undertake it. An epic poem is not in so much haste; it works leisurely: +the changes which it makes are slow, but the cure is likely to be more +perfect. The effects of tragedy, as I said, are too violent to be +lasting. If it be answered, that for this reason tragedies are often to +be seen, and the dose to be repeated, this is tacitly to confess that +there is more virtue in one heroic poem than in many tragedies. A man is +humbled one day, and his pride returns the next. Chemical medicines are +observed to relieve oftener than to cure; for it is the nature of spirits +to make swift impressions, but not deep. Galenical decoctions, to which +I may properly compare an epic poem, have more of body in them; they work +by their substance and their weight. + +It is one reason of Aristotle’s to prove that tragedy is the more noble, +because it turns in a shorter compass—the whole action being +circumscribed within the space of four-and-twenty hours. He might prove +as well that a mushroom is to be preferred before a peach, because it +shoots up in the compass of a night. A chariot may be driven round the +pillar in less space than a large machine, because the bulk is not so +great. Is the moon a more noble planet than Saturn, because she makes +her revolution in less than thirty days, and he in little less than +thirty years? Both their orbs are in proportion to their several +magnitudes; and consequently the quickness or slowness of their motion, +and the time of their circumvolutions, is no argument of the greater or +less perfection. And besides, what virtue is there in a tragedy which is +not contained in an epic poem, where pride is humbled, virtue rewarded, +and vice punished, and those more amply treated than the narrowness of +the drama can admit? The shining quality of an epic hero, his +magnanimity, his constancy, his patience, his piety, or whatever +characteristical virtue his poet gives him, raises first our admiration; +we are naturally prone to imitate what we admire, and frequent acts +produce a habit. If the hero’s chief quality be vicious—as, for example, +the choler and obstinate desire of vengeance in Achilles—yet the moral is +instructive; and besides, we are informed in the very proposition of the +“Iliads” that this anger was pernicious, that it brought a thousand ills +on the Grecian camp. The courage of Achilles is proposed to imitation, +not his pride and disobedience to his general; nor his brutal cruelty to +his dead enemy, nor the selling his body to his father. We abhor these +actions while we read them, and what we abhor we never imitate; the poet +only shows them, like rocks or quicksands to be shunned. + +By this example the critics have concluded that it is not necessary the +manners of the hero should be virtuous (they are poetically good if they +are of a piece); though where a character of perfect virtue is set before +us, it is more lovely; for there the whole hero is to be imitated. This +is the Æneas of our author; this is that idea of perfection in an epic +poem which painters and statuaries have only in their minds, and which no +hands are able to express. These are the beauties of a God in a human +body. When the picture of Achilles is drawn in tragedy, he is taken with +those warts and moles and hard features by those who represent him on the +stage, or he is no more Achilles; for his creator, Homer, has so +described him. Yet even thus he appears a perfect hero, though an +imperfect character of virtue. Horace paints him after Homer, and +delivers him to be copied on the stage with all those imperfections. +Therefore they are either not faults in an heroic poem, or faults common +to the drama. + +After all, on the whole merits of the cause, it must be acknowledged that +the epic poem is more for the manners, and tragedy for the passions. The +passions, as I have said, are violent; and acute distempers require +medicines of a strong and speedy operation. Ill habits of the mind are, +like chronical diseases, to be corrected by degrees, and cured by +alteratives; wherein, though purges are sometimes necessary, yet diet, +good air, and moderate exercise have the greatest part. The matter being +thus stated, it will appear that both sorts of poetry are of use for +their proper ends. The stage is more active, the epic poem works at +greater leisure; yet is active too when need requires, for dialogue is +imitated by the drama from the more active parts of it. One puts off a +fit, like the quinquina, and relieves us only for a time; the other roots +out the distemper, and gives a healthful habit. The sun enlightens and +cheers us, dispels fogs, and warms the ground with his daily beams; but +the corn is sowed, increases, is ripened, and is reaped for use in +process of time and in its proper season. + +I proceed from the greatness of the action to the dignity of the actors—I +mean, to the persons employed in both poems. There likewise tragedy will +be seen to borrow from the epopee; and that which borrows is always of +less dignity, because it has not of its own. A subject, it is true, may +lend to his sovereign; but the act of borrowing makes the king inferior, +because he wants and the subject supplies. And suppose the persons of +the drama wholly fabulous, or of the poet’s invention, yet heroic poetry +gave him the examples of that invention, because it was first, and Homer +the common father of the stage. I know not of any one advantage which +tragedy can boast above heroic poetry but that it is represented to the +view as well as read, and instructs in the closet as well as on the +theatre. This is an uncontended excellence, and a chief branch of its +prerogative; yet I may be allowed to say without partiality that herein +the actors share the poet’s praise. Your lordship knows some modern +tragedies which are beautiful on the stage, and yet I am confident you +would not read them. Tryphon the stationer complains they are seldom +asked for in his shop. The poet who flourished in the scene is damned in +the _ruelle_; nay, more, he is not esteemed a good poet by those who see +and hear his extravagances with delight. They are a sort of stately +fustian and lofty childishness. Nothing but nature can give a sincere +pleasure; where that is not imitated, it is grotesque painting; the fine +woman ends in a fish’s tail. + +I might also add that many things which not only please, but are real +beauties in the reading, would appear absurd upon the stage; and those +not only the _speciosa miracula_, as Horace calls them, of +transformations of Scylla, Antiphates, and the Læstrygons (which cannot +be represented even in operas), but the prowess of Achilles or Æneas +would appear ridiculous in our dwarf-heroes of the theatre. We can +believe they routed armies in Homer or in Virgil, but _ne Hercules contra +duos_ in the drama. I forbear to instance in many things which the stage +cannot or ought not to represent; for I have said already more than I +intended on this subject, and should fear it might be turned against me +that I plead for the pre-eminence of epic poetry because I have taken +some pains in translating Virgil, if this were the first time that I had +delivered my opinion in this dispute; but I have more than once already +maintained the rights of my two masters against their rivals of the +scene, even while I wrote tragedies myself and had no thoughts of this +present undertaking. I submit my opinion to your judgment, who are +better qualified than any man I know to decide this controversy. You +come, my lord, instructed in the cause, and needed not that I should open +it. Your “Essay of Poetry,” which was published without a name, and of +which I was not honoured with the confidence, I read over and over with +much delight and as much instruction, and without flattering you, or +making myself more moral than I am, not without some envy. I was loth to +be informed how an epic poem should be written, or how a tragedy should +be contrived and managed, in better verse and with more judgment than I +could teach others. A native of Parnassus, and bred up in the studies of +its fundamental laws, may receive new lights from his contemporaries, but +it is a grudging kind of praise which he gives his benefactors. He is +more obliged than he is willing to acknowledge; there is a tincture of +malice in his commendations: for where I own I am taught, I confess my +want of knowledge. A judge upon the bench may, out of good nature, or, +at least, interest, encourage the pleadings of a puny counsellor, but he +does not willingly commend his brother-serjeant at the bar, especially +when he controls his law, and exposes that ignorance which is made sacred +by his place. I gave the unknown author his due commendation, I must +confess; but who can answer for me, and for the rest of the poets who +heard me read the poem, whether we should not have been better pleased to +have seen our own names at the bottom of the title-page? Perhaps we +commended it the more that we might seem to be above the censure. We are +naturally displeased with an unknown critic, as the ladies are with a +lampooner, because we are bitten in the dark, and know not where to +fasten our revenge; but great excellences will work their way through all +sorts of opposition. I applauded rather out of decency than affection; +and was ambitious, as some yet can witness, to be acquainted with a man +with whom I had the honour to converse, and that almost daily, for so +many years together. Heaven knows if I have heartily forgiven you this +deceit. You extorted a praise, which I should willingly have given had I +known you. Nothing had been more easy than to commend a patron of a long +standing. The world would join with me if the encomiums were just, and +if unjust would excuse a grateful flatterer. But to come anonymous upon +me, and force me to commend you against my interest, was not altogether +so fair, give me leave to say, as it was politic; for by concealing your +quality you might clearly understand how your work succeeded, and that +the general approbation was given to your merit, not your titles. Thus, +like Apelles, you stood unseen behind your own Venus, and received the +praises of the passing multitude. The work was commended, not the +author; and, I doubt not, this was one of the most pleasing adventures of +your life. + +I have detained your lordship longer than I intended in this dispute of +preference betwixt the epic poem and the drama, and yet have not formally +answered any of the arguments which are brought by Aristotle on the other +side, and set in the fairest light by Dacier. But I suppose without +looking on the book, I may have touched on some of the objections; for in +this address to your lordship I design not a treatise of heroic poetry, +but write in a loose epistolary way somewhat tending to that subject, +after the example of Horace in his first epistle of the second book to +Augustus Cæsar, and of that to the Pisos, which we call his “Art of +Poetry,” in both of which he observes no method that I can trace, +whatever Scaliger the father, or Heinsius may have seen, or rather think +they had seen. I have taken up, laid down, and resumed, as often as I +pleased, the same subject, and this loose proceeding I shall use through +all this prefatory dedication. Yet all this while I have been sailing +with some side-wind or other toward the point I proposed in the +beginning—the greatness and excellence of an heroic poem, with some of +the difficulties which attend that work. The comparison therefore which +I made betwixt the epopee and the tragedy was not altogether a +digression, for it is concluded on all hands that they are both the +masterpieces of human wit. + +In the meantime I may be bold to draw this corollary from what has been +already said—that the file of heroic poets is very short; all are not +such who have assumed that lofty title in ancient or modern ages, or have +been so esteemed by their partial and ignorant admirers. + +There have been but one great “Ilias” and one “Æneis” in so many ages; +the next (but the next with a long interval betwixt) was the +“Jerusalem”—I mean, not so much in distance of time as in excellence. +After these three are entered, some Lord Chamberlain should be appointed, +some critic of authority should be set before the door to keep out a +crowd of little poets who press for admission, and are not of quality. +Mævius would be deafening your lordship’s ears with his + + “_Fortunam Priami cantabo_, _et nobile bellum_.” + +Mere fustian (as Horace would tell you from behind, without pressing +forward), and more smoke than fire. Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto would +cry out, “Make room for the Italian poets, the descendants of Virgil in a +right line.” Father Le Moine with his “Saint Louis,” and Scudery with +his “Alaric” (for a godly king and a Gothic conqueror); and Chapelain +would take it ill that his “Maid” should be refused a place with Helen +and Lavinia. Spenser has a better plea for his “Faerie Queen,” had his +action been finished, or had been one; and Milton, if the devil had not +been his hero instead of Adam; if the giant had not foiled the knight, +and driven him out of his stronghold to wander through the world with his +lady-errant; and if there had not been more machining persons than human +in his poem. After these the rest of our English poets shall not be +mentioned; I have that honour for them which I ought to have; but if they +are worthies, they are not to be ranked amongst the three whom I have +named, and who are established in their reputation. + +Before I quitted the comparison betwixt epic poetry and tragedy I should +have acquainted my judge with one advantage of the former over the +latter, which I now casually remember out of the preface of Segrais +before his translation of the “Æneis,” or out of Bossu—no matter which: +“The style of the heroic poem is, and ought to be, more lofty than that +of the drama.” The critic is certainly in the right, for the reason +already urged—the work of tragedy is on the passions, and in dialogue; +both of them abhor strong metaphors, in which the epopee delights. A +poet cannot speak too plainly on the stage, for _volat irrevocabile +verbum_ (the sense is lost if it be not taken flying) but what we read +alone we have leisure to digest. There an author may beautify his sense +by the boldness of his expression, which if we understand not fully at +the first we may dwell upon it till we find the secret force and +excellence. That which cures the manners by alterative physic, as I said +before, must proceed by insensible degrees; but that which purges the +passions must do its business all at once, or wholly fail of its +effect—at least, in the present operation—and without repeated doses. We +must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure. +Thus, my lord, you pay the fine of my forgetfulness; and yet the merits +of both causes are where they were, and undecided, till you declare +whether it be more for the benefit of mankind to have their manners in +general corrected, or their pride and hard-heartedness removed. + +I must now come closer to my present business, and not think of making +more invasive wars abroad, when, like Hannibal, I am called back to the +defence of my own country. Virgil is attacked by many enemies; he has a +whole confederacy against him; and I must endeavour to defend him as well +as I am able. But their principal objections being against his moral, +the duration or length of time taken up in the action of the poem, and +what they have to urge against the manners of his hero, I shall omit the +rest as mere cavils of grammarians—at the worst but casual slips of a +great man’s pen, or inconsiderable faults of an admirable poem, which the +author had not leisure to review before his death. Macrobius has +answered what the ancients could urge against him, and some things I have +lately read in Tannegui le Febvre, Valois, and another whom I name not, +which are scarce worth answering. They begin with the moral of his poem, +which I have elsewhere confessed, and still must own, not to be so noble +as that of Homer. But let both be fairly stated, and without +contradicting my first opinion I can show that Virgil’s was as useful to +the Romans of his age as Homer’s was to the Grecians of his, in what time +soever he may be supposed to have lived and flourished. Homer’s moral +was to urge the necessity of union, and of a good understanding betwixt +confederate states and princes engaged in a war with a mighty monarch; as +also of discipline in an army, and obedience in the several chiefs to the +supreme commander of the joint forces. To inculcate this, he sets forth +the ruinous effects of discord in the camp of those allies, occasioned by +the quarrel betwixt the general and one of the next in office under him. +Agamemnon gives the provocation, and Achilles resents the injury. Both +parties are faulty in the quarrel, and accordingly they are both +punished; the aggressor is forced to sue for peace to his inferior on +dishonourable conditions; the deserter refuses the satisfaction offered, +and his obstinacy costs him his best friend. This works the natural +effect of choler, and turns his rage against him by whom he was last +affronted, and most sensibly. The greater anger expels the less, but his +character is still preserved. In the meantime the Grecian army receives +loss on loss, and is half destroyed by a pestilence into the bargain:— + + “_Quicquid delirant reges_, _plectuntur Achivi_.” + +As the poet in the first part of the example had shown the bad effects of +discord, so after the reconcilement he gives the good effects of unity; +for Hector is slain, and then Troy must fall. By this it is probable +that Homer lived when the Median monarchy was grown formidable to the +Grecians, and that the joint endeavours of his countrymen were little +enough to preserve their common freedom from an encroaching enemy. Such +was his moral, which all critics have allowed to be more noble than that +of Virgil, though not adapted to the times in which the Roman poet lived. +Had Virgil flourished in the age of Ennius and addressed to Scipio, he +had probably taken the same moral, or some other not unlike it; for then +the Romans were in as much danger from the Carthaginian commonwealth as +the Grecians were from the Assyrian or Median monarchy. But we are to +consider him as writing his poem in a time when the old form of +government was subverted, and a new one just established by Octavius +Cæsar—in effect, by force of arms, but seemingly by the consent of the +Roman people. The commonwealth had received a deadly wound in the former +civil wars betwixt Marius and Sylla. The commons, while the first +prevailed, had almost shaken off the yoke of the nobility; and Marius and +Cinna (like the captains of the mob), under the specious pretence of the +public good and of doing justice on the oppressors of their liberty, +revenged themselves without form of law on their private enemies. Sylla, +in his turn, proscribed the heads of the adverse party. He, too, had +nothing but liberty and reformation in his mouth; for the cause of +religion is but a modern motive to rebellion, invented by the Christian +priesthood refining on the heathen. Sylla, to be sure, meant no more +good to the Roman people than Marius before him, whatever he declared; +but sacrificed the lives and took the estates of all his enemies to +gratify those who brought him into power. Such was the reformation of +the government by both parties. The senate and the commons were the two +bases on which it stood, and the two champions of either faction each +destroyed the foundations of the other side; so the fabric, of +consequence, must fall betwixt them, and tyranny must be built upon their +ruins. _This comes of altering fundamental laws and constitutions_; like +him who, being in good health, lodged himself in a physician’s house, and +was over-persuaded by his landlord to take physic (of which be died) for +the benefit of his doctor. “_Stavo ben_,” was written on his monument, +“_ma_, _per star meglio_, _sto qui_.” + +After the death of those two usurpers the commonwealth seemed to recover, +and held up its head for a little time, but it was all the while in a +deep consumption, which is a flattering disease. Pompey, Crassus, and +Cæsar had found the sweets of arbitrary power, and each being a check to +the other’s growth, struck up a false friendship amongst themselves and +divided the government betwixt them, which none of them was able to +assume alone. These were the public-spirited men of their age—that is, +patriots for their own interest. The commonwealth looked with a florid +countenance in their management; spread in bulk, and all the while was +wasting in the vitals. Not to trouble your lordship with the repetition +of what you know, after the death of Crassus Pompey found himself +outwitted by Cæsar, broke with him, overpowered him in the senate, and +caused many unjust decrees to pass against him. Cæsar thus injured, and +unable to resist the faction of the nobles which was now uppermost (for +he was a Marian), had recourse to arms, and his cause was just against +Pompey, but not against his country, whose constitution ought to have +been sacred to him, and never to have been violated on the account of any +private wrong. But he prevailed, and Heaven declaring for him, he became +a providential monarch under the title of Perpetual Dictator. He being +murdered by his own son (whom I neither dare commend nor can justly +blame, though Dante in his “Inferno” has put him and Cassius, and Judas +Iscariot betwixt them, into the great devil’s mouth), the commonwealth +popped up its head for the third time under Brutus and Cassius, and then +sank for ever. + +Thus the Roman people were grossly gulled twice or thrice over, and as +often enslaved, in one century, and under the same pretence of +reformation. At last the two battles of Philippi gave the decisive +stroke against liberty, and not long after the commonwealth was turned +into a monarchy by the conduct and good fortune of Augustus. It is true +that the despotic power could not have fallen into better hands than +those of the first and second Cæsar. Your lordship well knows what +obligations Virgil had to the latter of them. He saw, beside, that the +commonwealth was lost without resource; the heads of it destroyed; the +senate, new moulded, grown degenerate, and either bought off or thrusting +their own necks into the yoke out of fear of being forced. Yet I may +safely affirm for our great author (as men of good sense are generally +honest) that he was still of republican principles in heart. + + “_Secretosque pios_; _his dantem jura Catonem_.” + +I think I need use no other argument to justify my opinion than that of +this one line taken from the eighth book of the Æneis. If he had not +well studied his patron’s temper it might have ruined him with another +prince. But Augustus was not discontented (at least, that we can find) +that Cato was placed by his own poet in Elysium, and there giving laws to +the holy souls who deserved to be separated from the vulgar sort of good +spirits; for his conscience could not but whisper to the arbitrary +monarch that the kings of Rome were at first elective, and governed not +without a senate; that Romulus was no hereditary prince, and though after +his death he received divine honours for the good he did on earth, yet he +was but a god of their own making; that the last Tarquin was expelled +justly for overt acts of tyranny and mal-administration (for such are the +conditions of an elective kingdom, and I meddle not with others, being, +for my own opinion, of Montange’s principles—that an honest man ought to +be contented with that form of government, and with those fundamental +constitutions of it, which he received from his ancestors, and under +which himself was born, though at the same time he confessed freely that +if he could have chosen his place of birth it should have been at Venice, +which for many reasons I dislike, and am better pleased to have been born +an Englishman). + +But to return from my long rambling; I say that Virgil having maturely +weighed the condition of the times in which he lived; that an entire +liberty was not to be retrieved; that the present settlement had the +prospect of a long continuance in the same family or those adopted into +it; that he held his paternal estate from the bounty of the conqueror, by +whom he was likewise enriched, esteemed, and cherished; that this +conqueror, though of a bad kind, was the very best of it; that the arts +of peace flourished under him; that all men might be happy if they would +be quiet; that now he was in possession of the whole, yet he shared a +great part of his authority with the senate; that he would be chosen into +the ancient offices of the commonwealth, and ruled by the power which he +derived from them, and prorogued his government from time to time, still, +as it were, threatening to dismiss himself from public cares, which he +exercised more for the common good than for any delight he took in +greatness—these things, I say, being considered by the poet, he concluded +it to be the interest of his country to be so governed, to infuse an +awful respect into the people towards such a prince, by that respect to +confirm their obedience to him, and by that obedience to make them happy. +This was the moral of his divine poem; honest in the poet, honourable to +the emperor (whom he derives from a divine extraction), and reflecting +part of that honour on the Roman people (whom he derives also from the +Trojans), and not only profitable, but necessary, to the present age, and +likely to be such to their posterity. That it was the received opinion +that the Romans were descended from the Trojans, and Julius Cæsar from +Iulus, the son of Æneas, was enough for Virgil, though perhaps he thought +not so himself, or that Æneas ever was in Italy, which Bochartus +manifestly proves. And Homer (where he says that Jupiter hated the house +of Priam, and was resolved to transfer the kingdom to the family of +Æneas) yet mentions nothing of his leading a colony into a foreign +country and settling there. But that the Romans valued themselves on +their Trojan ancestry is so undoubted a truth that I need not prove it. +Even the seals which we have remaining of Julius Cæsar (which we know to +be antique) have the star of Venus over them—though they were all graven +after his death—as a note that he was deified. I doubt not but one +reason why Augustus should be so passionately concerned for the +preservation of the “Æneis,” which its author had condemned to be burnt +as an imperfect poem by his last will and testament, was because it did +him a real service as well as an honour; that a work should not be lost +where his divine original was celebrated in verse which had the character +of immortality stamped upon it. + +Neither were the great Roman families which flourished in his time less +obliged by him than the emperor. Your lordship knows with what address +he makes mention of them as captains of ships or leaders in the war; and +even some of Italian extraction are not forgotten. These are the single +stars which are sprinkled through the “Æneis,” but there are whole +constellations of them in the fifth book; and I could not but take +notice, when I translated it, of some favourite families to which he +gives the victory and awards the prizes, in the person of his hero, at +the funeral games which were celebrated in honour of Anchises. I insist +not on their names, but am pleased to find the Memmii amongst them, +derived from Mnestheus, because Lucretius dedicates to one of that +family, a branch of which destroyed Corinth. I likewise either found or +formed an image to myself of the contrary kind—that those who lost the +prizes were such as had disobliged the poet, or were in disgrace with +Augustus, or enemies to Mæcenas; and this was the poetical revenge he +took, for _genus irritabile vatum_, as Horace says. When a poet is +thoroughly provoked, he will do himself justice, how ever dear it cost +him, _animamque in vulnere ponit_. I think these are not bare +imaginations of my own, though I find no trace of them in the +commentators; but one poet may judge of another by himself. The +vengeance we defer is not forgotten. I hinted before that the whole +Roman people were obliged by Virgil in deriving them from Troy, an +ancestry which they affected. We and the French are of the same humour: +they would be thought to descend from a son, I think, of Hector; and we +would have our Britain both named and planted by a descendant of Æneas. +Spenser favours this opinion what he can. His Prince Arthur, or whoever +he intends by him, is a Trojan. Thus the hero of Homer was a Grecian; of +Virgil, a Roman; of Tasso, an Italian. + +I have transgressed my bounds and gone farther than the moral led me; but +if your lordship is not tired, I am safe enough. + +Thus far, I think, my author is defended. But as Augustus is still +shadowed in the person of Æneas (of which I shall say more when I come to +the manners which the poet gives his hero), I must prepare that subject +by showing how dexterously he managed both the prince and people, so as +to displease neither, and to do good to both—which is the part of a wise +and an honest man, and proves that it is possible for a courtier not to +be a knave. I shall continue still to speak my thoughts like a free-born +subject, as I am, though such things perhaps as no Dutch commentator +could, and I am sure no Frenchman durst. I have already told your +lordship my opinion of Virgil—that he was no arbitrary man. Obliged he +was to his master for his bounty, and he repays him with good counsel how +to behave himself in his new monarchy so as to gain the affections of his +subjects, and deserve to be called the “Father of His Country.” From +this consideration it is that he chose for the groundwork of his poem one +empire destroyed, and another raised from the ruins of it. This was just +the parallel. Æneas could not pretend to be Priam’s heir in a lineal +succession, for Anchises, the hero’s father, was only of the second +branch of the royal family, and Helenus, a son of Priam, was yet +surviving, and might lawfully claim before him. It may be, Virgil +mentions him on that account. Neither has he forgotten Priamus, in the +fifth of his “Æneis,” the son of Polites, youngest son to Priam, who was +slain by Pyrrhus in the second book. Æneas had only married Creusa, +Priam’s daughter, and by her could have no title while any of the male +issue were remaining. In this case the poet gave him the next title, +which is that of an Elective King. The remaining Trojans chose him to +lead them forth and settle them in some foreign country. Ilioneus in his +speech to Dido calls him expressly by the name of king. Our poet, who +all this while had Augustus in his eye, had no desire he should seem to +succeed by any right of inheritance derived from Julius Cæsar, such a +title being but one degree removed from conquest: for what was introduced +by force, by force may be removed. It was better for the people that +they should give than he should take, since that gift was indeed no more +at bottom than a trust. Virgil gives us an example of this in the person +of Mezentius. He governed arbitrarily; he was expelled and came to the +deserved end of all tyrants. Our author shows us another sort of +kingship in the person of Latinus. He was descended from Saturn, and, as +I remember, in the third degree. He is described a just and a gracious +prince, solicitous for the welfare of his people, always consulting with +his senate to promote the common good. We find him at the head of them +when he enters into the council-hall—speaking first, but still demanding +their advice, and steering by it, as far as the iniquity of the times +would suffer him. And this is the proper character of a king by +inheritance, who is born a father of his country. Æneas, though he +married the heiress of the crown, yet claimed no title to it during the +life of his father-in-law. _Socer arma Latinus hebeto_, &c., are +Virgil’s words. As for himself, he was contented to take care of his +country gods, who were not those of Latium; wherein our divine author +seems to relate to the after-practice of the Romans, which was to adopt +the gods of those they conquered or received as members of their +commonwealth. Yet, withal, he plainly touches at the office of the +high-priesthood, with which Augustus was invested and which made his +person more sacred and inviolable than even the tribunitial power. It +was not therefore for nothing that the most judicious of all poets made +that office vacant by the death of Pantheus, in the second book of the +“Æneis,” for his hero to succeed in it, and consequently for Augustus to +enjoy. I know not that any of the commentators have taken notice of that +passage. If they have not, I am sure they ought; and if they have, I am +not indebted to them for the observation. The words of Virgil are very +plain:— + + “_Sacra suosque tibi commendat Troja Penates_.” + +As for Augustus or his uncle Julius claiming by descent from Æneas, that +title is already out of doors. Æneas succeeded not, but was elected. +Troy was fore-doomed to fall for ever:— + + “_Postquam res Asiæ_, _Priamique evertere gentem_, + _Immeritam visum superis_.”—ÆNEIS, I. iii., line 1. + +Augustus, it is true, had once resolved to rebuild that city, and there +to make the seat of the Empire; but Horace writes an ode on purpose to +deter him from that thought, declaring the place to be accursed, and that +the gods would as often destroy it as it should be raised. Hereupon the +emperor laid aside a project so ungrateful to the Roman people. But by +this, my lord, we may conclude that he had still his pedigree in his +head, and had an itch of being thought a divine king if his poets had not +given him better counsel. + +I will pass by many less material objections for want of room to answer +them. What follows next is of great importance, if the critics can make +out their charge, for it is levelled at the manners which our poet gives +his hero, and which are the same which were eminently seen in his +Augustus. Those manners were piety to the gods and a dutiful affection +to his father, love to his relations, care of his people, courage and +conduct in the wars, gratitude to those who had obliged him, and justice +in general to mankind. + +Piety, as your lordship sees, takes place of all as the chief part of his +character; and the word in Latin is more full than it can possibly be +expressed in any modern language, for there it comprehends not only +devotion to the gods, but filial love and tender affection to relations +of all sorts. As instances of this the deities of Troy and his own +Penates are made the companions of his flight; they appear to him in his +voyage and advise him, and at last he replaces them in Italy, their +native country. For his father, he takes him on his back. He leads his +little son, his wife follows him; but losing his footsteps through fear +or ignorance he goes back into the midst of his enemies to find her, and +leaves not his pursuit till her ghost appears to forbid his farther +search. I will say nothing of his duty to his father while he lived, his +sorrow for his death, of the games instituted in honour of his memory, or +seeking him by his command even after death in the Elysian fields. I +will not mention his tenderness for his son, which everywhere is visible; +of his raising a tomb for Polydorus; the obsequies for Misenus; his pious +remembrance of Deiphobus; the funerals of his nurse; his grief for +Pallas, and his revenge taken on his murderer, whom otherwise, by his +natural compassion, he had forgiven: and then the poem had been left +imperfect, for we could have had no certain prospect of his happiness +while the last obstacle to it was unremoved. + +Of the other parts which compose his character as a king or as a general +I need say nothing; the whole “Æneis” is one continued instance of some +one or other of them; and where I find anything of them taxed, it shall +suffice me (as briefly as I can) to vindicate my divine master to your +lordship, and by you to the reader. But herein Segrais, in his admirable +preface to his translation of the “Æneis,” as the author of the Dauphin’s +“Virgil” justly calls it, has prevented me. Him I follow, and what I +borrow from him am ready to acknowledge to him, for, impartially +speaking, the French are as much better critics than the English as they +are worse poets. Thus we generally allow that they better understand the +management of a war than our islanders, but we know we are superior to +them in the day of battle; they value themselves on their generals, we on +our soldiers. But this is not the proper place to decide that question, +if they make it one. I shall say perhaps as much of other nations and +their poets (excepting only Tasso), and hope to make my assertion good, +which is but doing justice to my country—part of which honour will +reflect on your lordship, whose thoughts are always just, your numbers +harmonious, your words chosen, your expressions strong and manly, your +verse flowing, and your turns as happy as they are easy. If you would +set us more copies, your example would make all precepts needless. In +the meantime that little you have written is owned, and that particularly +by the poets (who are a nation not over-lavish of praise to their +contemporaries), as a principal ornament of our language; but the +sweetest essences are always confined in the smallest glasses. + +When I speak of your lordship, it is never a digression, and therefore I +need beg no pardon for it, but take up Segrais where I left him, and +shall use him less often than I have occasion for him. For his preface +is a perfect piece of criticism, full and clear, and digested into an +exact method; mine is loose and, as I intended it, epistolary. Yet I +dwell on many things which he durst not touch, for it is dangerous to +offend an arbitrary master, and every patron who has the power of +Augustus has not his clemency. In short, my lord, I would not translate +him because I would bring you somewhat of my own. His notes and +observations on every book are of the same excellency, and for the same +reason I omit the greater part. + +He takes no notice that Virgil is arraigned for placing piety before +valour, and making that piety the chief character of his hero. I have +said already from Bossu, that a poet is not obliged to make his hero a +virtuous man; therefore neither Homer nor Tasso are to be blamed for +giving what predominant quality they pleased to their first character. +But Virgil, who designed to form a perfect prince, and would insinuate +that Augustus (whom he calls Æneas in his poem) was truly such, found +himself obliged to make him without blemish—thoroughly virtuous; and a +thorough virtue both begins and ends in piety. Tasso without question +observed this before me, and therefore split his hero in two; he gave +Godfrey piety, and Rinaldo fortitude, for their chief qualities or +manners. Homer, who had chosen another moral, makes both Agamemnon and +Achilles vicious; for his design was to instruct in virtue by showing the +deformity of vice. I avoid repetition of that I have said above. What +follows is translated literally from Segrais:— + +“Virgil had considered that the greatest virtues of Augustus consisted in +the perfect art of governing his people, which caused him to reign for +more than forty years in great felicity. He considered that his emperor +was valiant, civil, popular, eloquent, politic, and religious; he has +given all these qualities to Æneas. But knowing that piety alone +comprehends the whole duty of man towards the gods, towards his country, +and towards his relations, he judged that this ought to be his first +character whom he would set for a pattern of perfection. In reality, +they who believe that the praises which arise from valour are superior to +those which proceed from any other virtues, have not considered, as they +ought, that valour, destitute of other virtues, cannot render a man +worthy of any true esteem. That quality, which signifies no more than an +intrepid courage, may he separated from many others which are good, and +accompanied with many which are ill. A man may be very valiant, and yet +impious and vicious; but the same cannot be said of piety, which excludes +all ill qualities, and comprehends even valour itself, with all other +qualities which are good. Can we, for example, give the praise of valour +to a man who should see his gods profaned, and should want the courage to +defend them? to a man who should abandon his father, or desert his king, +in his last necessity?” + +Thus far Segrais, in giving the preference to piety before valour; I will +now follow him where he considers this valour or intrepid courage singly +in itself; and this also Virgil gives to his Æneas, and that in a +heroical degree. + +Having first concluded that our poet did for the best in taking the first +character of his hero from that essential virtue on which the rest +depend, he proceeds to tell us that in the ten years’ war of Troy he was +considered as the second champion of his country, allowing Hector the +first place; and this even by the confession of Homer, who took all +occasions of setting up his own countrymen the Grecians, and of +undervaluing the Trojan chiefs. But Virgil (whom Segrais forgot to cite) +makes Diomede give him a higher character for strength and courage. His +testimony is this, in the eleventh book:— + + “_Stetimus tela aspera contra_, + _Contulimusque manus_: _experto credite_, _quantus_ + _In clypeum adsurgat_, _quo turbine torqueat hastam_. + _Si duo præterea tales Inachias venisset ad urbes_ + _Dardanus_, _et versis lugeret Græcia fatis_. + _Quicquid apud duræ cessatum est mænia Trojæ_, + _Hectoris Æneæque manu victoria Grajûm_ + _Hæsit_, _et in decumum vestigia retulit annum_. + _Ambo animis_, _ambo insignes præstantibus armis_: + _Hic pietate prior_.” + +I give not here my translation of these verses, though I think I have not +ill succeeded in them, because your lordship is so great a master of the +original that I have no reason to desire you should see Virgil and me so +near together. But you may please, my lord, to take notice that the +Latin author refines upon the Greek, and insinuates that Homer had done +his hero wrong in giving the advantage of the duel to his own countryman, +though Diomedes was manifestly the second champion of the Grecians; and +Ulysses preferred him before Ajax when he chose him for the companion of +his nightly expedition, for he had a headpiece of his own, and wanted +only the fortitude of another to bring him off with safety, and that he +might compass his design with honour. + +The French translator thus proceeds:—“They who accuse Æneas for want of +courage, either understand not Virgil or have read him slightly; +otherwise they would not raise an objection so easy to be answered.” +Hereupon he gives so many instances of the hero’s valour that to repeat +them after him would tire your lordship, and put me to the unnecessary +trouble of transcribing the greatest part of the three last Æneids. In +short, more could not be expected from an Amadis, a Sir Lancelot, or the +whole Round Table than he performs. _Proxima quæque metit galdio_ is the +perfect account of a knight-errant. If it be replied, continues Segrais, +that it was not difficult for him to undertake and achieve such hardy +enterprises because he wore enchanted arms, that accusation in the first +place must fall on Homer ere it can reach Virgil. Achilles was as well +provided with them as Æneas, though he was invulnerable without them; and +Ariosto, the two Tassos (Bernardo and Torquato), even our own Spenser—in +a word, all modern poets—have copied Homer, as well as Virgil; he is +neither the first nor last, but in the midst of them, and therefore is +safe if they are so. Who knows, says Segrais, but that his fated armour +was only an allegorical defence, and signified no more than that he was +under the peculiar protection of the gods? born, as the astrologers will +tell us out of Virgil (who was well versed in the Chaldean mysteries), +under the favourable influence of Jupiter, Venus, and the Sun? But I +insist not on this because I know you believe not there is such an art; +though not only Horace and Persius, but Augustus himself, thought +otherwise. But in defence of Virgil, I dare positively say that he has +been more cautious in this particular than either his predecessor or his +descendants; for Æneas was actually wounded in the twelfth of the +“Æneis,” though he had the same godsmith to forge his arms as had +Achilles. It seems he was no “war-luck,” as the Scots commonly call such +men, who, they say, are iron-free or lead-free. Yet after this +experiment that his arms were not impenetrable (when he was cured indeed +by his mother’s help, because he was that day to conclude the war by the +death of Turnus), the poet durst not carry the miracle too far and +restore him wholly to his former vigour; he was still too weak to +overtake his enemy, yet we see with what courage he attacks Turnus when +he faces and renews the combat. I need say no more, for Virgil defends +himself without needing my assistance, and proves his hero truly to +deserve that name. He was not, then, a second-rate champion, as they +would have him who think fortitude the first virtue in a hero. + +But being beaten from this hold, they will not yet allow him to be +valiant, because he wept more often, as they think, than well becomes a +man of courage. + +In the first place, if tears are arguments of cowardice, what shall I say +of Homer’s hero? Shall Achilles pass for timorous because he wept, and +wept on less occasions than Æneas? Herein Virgil must be granted to have +excelled his master; for once both heroes are described lamenting their +lost loves: Briseis was taken away by force from the Grecians, Creusa was +lost for ever to her husband. But Achilles went roaring along the salt +sea-shore, and, like a booby, was complaining to his mother when he +should have revenged his injury by arms: Æneas took a nobler course; for, +having secured his father and his son, he repeated all his former dangers +to have found his wife, if she had been above ground. And here your +lordship may observe the address of Virgil; it was not for nothing that +this passage was related, with all these tender circumstances. Æneas +told it, Dido heard it. That he had been so affectionate a husband was +no ill argument to the coming dowager that he might prove as kind to her. +Virgil has a thousand secret beauties, though I have not leisure to +remark them. + +Segrais, on this subject of a hero’s shedding tears, observes that +historians commend Alexander for weeping when he read the mighty actions +of Achilles; and Julius Cæsar is likewise praised when out of the same +noble envy, he wept at the victories of Alexander. But if we observe +more closely, we shall find that the tears of Æneas were always on a +laudable occasion. Thus he weeps out of compassion and tenderness of +nature when in the temple of Carthage he beholds the pictures of his +friends who sacrificed their lives in defence of their country. He +deplores the lamentable end of his pilot Palinurus, the untimely death of +young Pallas his confederate, and the rest which I omit. Yet even for +these tears his wretched critics dare condemn him; they make Æneas little +better than a kind of St. Swithin hero, always raining. One of these +censors was bold enough to argue him of cowardice, when in the beginning +of the first book he not only weeps, but trembles, at an approaching +storm:— + + “_Extemplo Æneæ solvuntur frigore membra_: + _Ingemit_, _et duplices tendens ad sidera palmas_,” &c. + +But to this I have answered formerly that his fear was not for himself, +but for his people. And who can give a sovereign a better commendation, +or recommend a hero more to the affection of the reader? They were +threatened with a tempest, and he wept; he was promised Italy, and +therefore he prayed for the accomplishment of that promise;—all this in +the beginning of a storm; therefore he showed the more early piety and +the quicker sense of compassion. Thus much I have urged elsewhere in the +defence of Virgil: and since, I have been informed by Mr. Moyle, a young +gentleman whom I can never sufficiently commend, that the ancients +accounted drowning an accursed death. So that if we grant him to have +been afraid, he had just occasion for that fear, both in relation to +himself and to his subjects. I think our adversaries can carry this +argument no farther, unless they tell us that he ought to have had more +confidence in the promise of the gods. But how was he assured that he +had understood their oracles aright? Helenus might be mistaken; Phoebus +might speak doubtfully; even his mother might flatter him that he might +prosecute his voyage, which if it succeeded happily he should be the +founder of an empire: for that she herself was doubtful of his fortune is +apparent by the address she made to Jupiter on his behalf; to which the +god makes answer in these words:— + + “_Parce metu_, _Cytherea_, _manent immota tuorum_ + _Fata tibi_,” &c. + +Notwithstanding which the goddess, though comforted, was not assured; for +even after this, through the course of the whole “Æneis,” she still +apprehends the interest which Juno might make with Jupiter against her +son. For it was a moot point in heaven whether he could alter fate or +not; and indeed some passages in Virgil would make us suspect that he was +of opinion Jupiter might defer fate, though he could not alter it; for in +the latter end of the tenth book he introduces Juno begging for the life +of Turnus, and flattering her husband with the power of changing destiny, +_tua_, _qui potes_, _orsa reflectas_! To which he graciously answers— + + “_Si mora præsentis leti_, _tempusque caduco_ + _Oratur juveni_, _meque hoc ita ponere sentis_, + _Tolle fugâ Turnum_, _atquc instantibus eripe fatis_. + _Hactenus indulsisse vacat_. _Sin altior istis_ + _Sub precibus venia ulla latet_, _totumque moveri_ + _Mutarive putas bellum_, _spes pascis inanis_.” + +But that he could not alter those decrees the king of gods himself +confesses in the book above cited, when he comforts Hercules for the +death of Pallas, who had invoked his aid before he threw his lance at +Turnus:— + + “_Trojæ sub mænibus altis_ + _Tot nati cecidere deûm_; _quin occidit unà_ + _Sarpedon_, _mea progenies_; _etiam sua Turnum_ + _Fata vocant_, _metasque dati pervenit ad ævi_.” + +Where he plainly acknowledges that he could not save his own son, or +prevent the death which he foresaw. Of his power to defer the blow, I +once occasionally discoursed with that excellent person Sir Robert +Howard, who is better conversant than any man that I know in the doctrine +of the Stoics, and he set me right, from the concurrent testimony of +philosophers and poets, that Jupiter could not retard the effects of +fate, even for a moment; for when I cited Virgil as favouring the +contrary opinion in that verse— + + “_Tolle fugâ Turnum_, _atque instantibus eripe fatis_”— + +he replied, and I think with exact judgment, that when Jupiter gave Juno +leave to withdraw Turnus from the present danger, it was because he +certainly foreknew that his fatal hour was not come, that it was in +destiny for Juno at that time to save him, and that himself obeyed +destiny in giving her that leave. + +I need say no more in justification of our hero’s courage, and am much +deceived if he ever be attacked on this side of his character again. But +he is arraigned with more show of reason by the ladies, who will make a +numerous party against him, for being false to love in forsaking Dido; +and I cannot much blame them, for, to say the truth, it is an ill +precedent for their gallants to follow. Yet if I can bring him off with +flying colours, they may learn experience at her cost; and for her sake +avoid a cave as the worse shelter they can choose from a shower of rain, +especially when they have a lover in their company. + +In the first place, Segrais observes with much acuteness that they who +blame Æneas for his insensibility of love when he left Carthage, +contradict their former accusation of him for being always crying, +compassionate, and effeminately sensible of those misfortunes which +befell others. They give him two contrary characters; but Virgil makes +him of a piece, always grateful, always tender-hearted. But they are +impudent enough to discharge themselves of this blunder by laying the +contradiction at Virgil’s door. He, they say, has shown his hero with +these inconsistent characters—acknowledging and ungrateful, compassionate +and hard-hearted, but at the bottom fickle and self-interested; for Dido +had not only received his weather-beaten troops before she saw him, and +given them her protection, but had also offered them an equal share in +her dominion:— + + “_Vultis et his mecum pariter considere regnis_? + _Urbem quam statuo_, _vesra est_.” + +This was an obligement never to be forgotten, and the more to be +considered because antecedent to her love. That passion, it is true, +produced the usual effects of generosity, gallantry, and care to please, +and thither we refer them; but when she had made all these advances, it +was still in his power to have refused them. After the intrigue of the +cave—call it marriage, or enjoyment only—he was no longer free to take or +leave; he had accepted the favour, and was obliged to be constant, if he +would be grateful. + +My lord, I have set this argument in the best light I can, that the +ladies may not think I write booty; and perhaps it may happen to me, as +it did to Doctor Cudworth, who has raised such strong objections against +the being of a God and Providence, that many think he has not answered +them. You may please at least to hear the adverse party. Segrais pleads +for Virgil that no less than an absolute command from Jupiter could +excuse this insensibility of the hero, and this abrupt departure, which +looks so like extreme ingratitude; but at the same time he does wisely to +remember you that Virgil had made piety the first character of Æneas; and +this being allowed, as I am afraid it must, he was obliged, antecedent to +all other considerations, to search an asylum for his gods in Italy—for +those very gods, I say, who had promised to his race the universal +empire. Could a pious man dispense with the commands of Jupiter to +satisfy his passion, or—take it in the strongest sense—to comply with the +obligations of his gratitude? Religion, it is true, must have moral +honesty for its groundwork, or we shall be apt to suspect its truth; but +an immediate revelation dispenses with all duties of morality. All +casuists agree that theft is a breach of the moral law; yet if I might +presume to mingle things sacred with profane, the Israelites only spoiled +the Egyptians, not robbed them, because the propriety was transferred by +a revelation to their lawgiver. I confess Dido was a very infidel in +this point; for she would not believe, as Virgil makes her say, that ever +Jupiter would send Mercury on such an immoral errand. But this needs no +answer—at least, no more than Virgil gives it:— + + “_Fata obstant_, _placidasque viri Deus obstruit aures_.” + +This notwithstanding, as Segrais confesses, he might have shown a little +more sensibility when he left her, for that had been according to his +character. + +But let Virgil answer for himself. He still loved her, and struggled +with his inclinations to obey the gods:— + + “_Curam sub corde premebat_, + _Multa gemens_, _magnoque animum labefactus amore_.” + +Upon the whole matter, and humanly speaking, I doubt there was a fault +somewhere, and Jupiter is better able to bear the blame than either +Virgil or Æneas. The poet, it seems, had found it out, and therefore +brings the deserting hero and the forsaken lady to meet together in the +lower regions, where he excuses himself when it is too late, and +accordingly she will take no satisfaction, nor so much as hear him. Now +Segrais is forced to abandon his defence, and excuses his author by +saying that the “Æneis” is an imperfect work, and that death prevented +the divine poet from reviewing it, and for that reason he had condemned +it to the fire, though at the same time his two translators must +acknowledge that the sixth book is the most correct of the whole “Æneis.” +Oh, how convenient is a machine sometimes in a heroic poem! This of +Mercury is plainly one; and Virgil was constrained to use it here, or the +honesty of his hero would be ill defended; and the fair sex, however, if +they had the deserter in their power, would certainly have shown him no +more mercy than the Bacchanals did Orpheus: for if too much constancy may +be a fault sometimes, then want of constancy, and ingratitude after the +last favour, is a crime that never will be forgiven. But of machines, +more in their proper place, where I shall show with how much judgment +they have been used by Virgil; and in the meantime pass to another +article of his defence on the present subject, where, if I cannot clear +the hero, I hope at least to bring off the poet, for here I must divide +their causes. Let Æneas trust to his machine, which will only help to +break his fall; but the address is incomparable. Plato, who borrowed so +much from Homer, and yet concluded for the banishment of all poets, would +at least have rewarded Virgil before he sent him into exile; but I go +farther, and say that he ought to be acquitted, and deserved, beside, the +bounty of Augustus and the gratitude of the Roman people. If after this +the ladies will stand out, let them remember that the jury is not all +agreed; for Octavia was of his party, and was of the first quality in +Rome: she was also present at the reading of the sixth Æneid, and we know +not that she condemned Æneas, but we are sure she presented the poet for +his admirable elegy on her son Marcellus. + +But let us consider the secret reasons which Virgil had for thus framing +this noble episode, wherein the whole passion of love is more exactly +described than in any other poet. Love was the theme of his fourth book; +and though it is the shortest of the whole “Æneis,” yet there he has +given its beginning, its progress, its traverses, and its conclusion; and +had exhausted so entirely this subject that he could resume it but very +slightly in the eight ensuing books. + +She was warmed with the graceful appearance of the hero; she smothered +those sparkles out of decency, but conversation blew them up into a +flame. Then she was forced to make a confidante of her whom she best +might trust, her own sister, who approves the passion, and thereby +augments it; then succeeds her public owning it; and after that the +consummation. Of Venus and Juno, Jupiter and Mercury, I say nothing (for +they were all machining work); but possession having cooled his love, as +it increased hers, she soon perceived the change, or at least grew +suspicious of a change. This suspicion soon turned to jealousy, and +jealousy to rage; then she disdains and threatens, and again is humble +and entreats: and, nothing availing, despairs, curses, and at last +becomes her own executioner. See here the whole process of that passion, +to which nothing can be added. I dare go no farther, lest I should lose +the connection of my discourse. + +To love our native country, and to study its benefit and its glory; to be +interested in its concerns, is natural to all men, and is indeed our +common duty. A poet makes a farther step for endeavouring to do honour +to it. It is allowable in him even to be partial in its cause; for he is +not tied to truth, or fettered by the laws of history. Homer and Tasso +are justly praised for choosing their heroes out of Greece and Italy; +Virgil, indeed, made his a Trojan, but it was to derive the Romans and +his own Augustus from him; but all the three poets are manifestly partial +to their heroes in favour of their country. For Dares Phrygius reports +of Hector that he was slain cowardly; Æneas, according to the best +account, slew not Mezentius, but was slain by him; and the chronicles of +Italy tell us little of that Rinaldo d’Este who conquers Jerusalem in +Tasso. He might be a champion of the Church, but we know not that he was +so much as present at the siege. To apply this to Virgil, he thought +himself engaged in honour to espouse the cause and quarrel of his country +against Carthage. He knew he could not please the Romans better, or +oblige them more to patronise his poem, than by disgracing the foundress +of that city. He shows her ungrateful to the memory of her first +husband, doting on a stranger, enjoyed and afterwards forsaken by him. +This was the original, says he, of the immortal hatred betwixt the two +rival nations. It is true, he colours the falsehood of Æneas by an +express command from Jupiter to forsake the queen who had obliged him; +but he knew the Romans were to be his readers, and them he bribed—perhaps +at the expense of his hero’s honesty; but he gained his cause, however, +as pleading before corrupt judges. They were content to see their +founder false to love, for still he had the advantage of the amour. It +was their enemy whom he forsook, and she might have forsaken him if he +had not got the start of her. She had already forgotten her vows to her +Sichæus, and _varium et nutabile semper femina_ is the sharpest satire in +the fewest words that ever was made on womankind; for both the adjectives +are neuter, and _animal_ must be understood to make them grammar. Virgil +does well to put those words into the mouth of Mercury. If a god had not +spoken them, neither durst he have written them, nor I translated them. +Yet the deity was forced to come twice on the same errand; and the second +time, as much a hero as Æneas was, he frighted him. It seems he feared +not Jupiter so much as Dido; for your lordship may observe that, as much +intent as he was upon his voyage, yet he still delayed it, till the +messenger was obliged to tell him plainly that if he weighed not anchor +in the night the queen would be with him in the morning, _notumque furens +quid femina possit_: she was injured, she was revengeful, she was +powerful. The poet had likewise before hinted that the people were +naturally perfidious, for he gives their character in the queen, and +makes a proverb of _Punica fides_ many ages before it was invented. + +Thus I hope, my lord, that I have made good my promise, and justified the +poet, whatever becomes of the false knight. And, sure, a poet is as much +privileged to lie as an ambassador for the honour and interest of his +country—at least, as Sir Henry Wotton has defined. + +This naturally leads me to the defence of the famous anachronism in +making Æneas and Dido contemporaries, for it is certain that the hero +lived almost two hundred years before the building of Carthage. One who +imitates Boccalini says that Virgil was accused before Apollo for this +error. The god soon found that he was not able to defend his favourite +by reason, for the case was clear; he therefore gave this middle +sentence: that anything might be allowed to his son Virgil on the account +of his other merits; that, being a monarch, he had a dispensing power, +and pardoned him. But that this special act of grace might never be +drawn into example, or pleaded by his puny successors in justification of +their ignorance, he decreed for the future—no poet should presume to make +a lady die for love two hundred years before her birth. To moralise this +story, Virgil is the Apollo who has this dispensing power. His great +judgment made the laws of poetry, but he never made himself a slave to +them; chronology at best is but a cobweb law, and he broke through it +with his weight. They who will imitate him wisely must choose, as he +did, an obscure and a remote era, where they may invent at pleasure, and +not be easily contradicted. Neither he nor the Romans had ever read the +Bible, by which only his false computation of times can be made out +against him. This Segrais says in his defence, and proves it from his +learned friend Bochartus, whose letter on this subject he has printed at +the end of the fourth Æneid, to which I refer your lordship and the +reader. Yet the credit of Virgil was so great that he made this fable of +his own invention pass for an authentic history, or at least as credible +as anything in Homer. Ovid takes it up after him even in the same age, +and makes an ancient heroine of Virgil’s new-created Dido; dictates a +letter for her, just before her death, to the ingrateful fugitive; and, +very unluckily for himself, is for measuring a sword with a man so much +superior in force to him on the same subject. I think I may be judge of +this, because I have translated both. The famous author of “The Art of +Love” has nothing of his own; he borrows all from a greater master in his +own profession, and, which is worse, improves nothing which he finds. +Nature fails him; and, being forced to his old shift, he has recourse to +witticism. This passes, indeed, with his soft admirers, and gives him +the preference to Virgil in their esteem; but let them like for +themselves, and not prescribe to others, for our author needs not their +admiration. + +The motive that induced Virgil to coin this fable I have showed already, +and have also begun to show that he might make this anachronism, by +superseding the mechanic rules of poetry, for the same reason that a +monarch may dispense with or suspend his own laws when he finds it +necessary so to do, especially if those laws are not altogether +fundamental. Nothing is to be called a fault in poetry, says Aristotle, +but what is against the art; therefore a man may be an admirable poet +without being an exact chronologer. Shall we dare, continues Segrais, to +condemn Virgil for having made a fiction against the order of time, when +we commend Ovid and other poets who have made many of their fictions +against the order of nature? For what else are the splendid miracles of +the “Metamorphoses?” Yet these are beautiful as they are related, and +have also deep learning and instructive mythologies couched under them. +But to give, as Virgil does in this episode, the original cause of the +long wars betwixt Rome and Carthage; to draw truth out of fiction after +so probable a manner, with so much beauty, and so much for the honour of +his country, was proper only to the divine wit of Maro; and Tasso, in one +of his discourses, admires him for this particularly. It is not lawful +indeed to contradict a point of history which is known to all the +world—as, for example, to make Hannibal and Scipio contemporaries with +Alexander—but in the dark recesses of antiquity a great poet may and +ought to feign such things as he finds not there, if they can be brought +to embellish that subject which he treats. On the other side, the pains +and diligence of ill poets is but thrown away when they want the genius +to invent and feign agreeably. But if the fictions be delightful (which +they always are if they be natural) if they be of a piece; if the +beginning, the middle, and the end be in their due places, and artfully +united to each other, such works can never fail of their deserved +success. And such is Virgil’s episode of Dido and Æneas, where the +sourest critic must acknowledge that if he had deprived his “Æneis” of so +great an ornament, because he found no traces of it in antiquity, he had +avoided their unjust censure, but had wanted one of the greatest beauties +of his poem. + +I shall say more of this in the next article of their charge against him, +which is—want of invention. In the meantime I may affirm, in honour of +this episode, that it is not only now esteemed the most pleasing +entertainment of the “Æneis,” but was so accounted in his own age, and +before it was mellowed into that reputation which time has given it; for +which I need produce no other testimony than that of Ovid, his +contemporary:— + + “_Nec pars ulla magis legitur de corpore toto_, + _Quam non legitimo fædere junctus amor_.” + +Where, by the way, you may observe, my lord, that Ovid in those words, +_non legitimo fædere junctus amor_, will by no means allow it to be a +lawful marriage betwixt Dido and Æneas. He was in banishment when he +wrote those verses, which I cite from his letter to Augustus. “You, +sir,” saith he, “have sent me into exile for writing my ‘Art of Love’ and +my wanton elegies; yet your own poet was happy in your good graces, +though he brought Dido and Æneas into a cave, and left them there not +over-honestly together: may I be so bold to ask your majesty is it a +greater fault to teach the art of unlawful love than to show it in the +action?” But was Ovid the court-poet so bad a courtier as to find no +other plea to excuse himself than by a plain accusation of his master? +Virgil confessed it was a lawful marriage betwixt the lovers; that Juno, +the goddess of matrimony, had ratified it by her presence (for it was her +business to bring matters to that issue): that the ceremonies were short +we may believe, for Dido was not only amorous, but a widow. Mercury +himself, though employed on a quite contrary errand, yet owns it a +marriage by an innuendo—_pulchramque uxorius urbem extruis_. He calls +Æneas not only a husband, but upbraids him for being a fond husband, as +the word _uxorius_ implies. Now mark a little, if your lordship pleases, +why Virgil is so much concerned to make this marriage (for he seems to be +the father of the bride himself, and to give her to the bridegroom); it +was to make way for the divorce which he intended afterwards, for he was +a finer flatterer than Ovid, and I more than conjecture that he had in +his eye the divorce which not long before had passed betwixt the emperor +and Scribonia. He drew this dimple in the cheek of Æneas to prove +Augustus of the same family by so remarkable a feature in the same place. +Thus, as we say in our home-spun English proverb, he killed two birds +with one stone—pleased the emperor by giving him the resemblance of his +ancestor, and gave him such a resemblance as was not scandalous in that +age (for to leave one wife and take another was but a matter of gallantry +at that time of day among the Romans). _Neque hæc in fædera veni_ is the +very excuse which Æneas makes when he leaves his lady. “I made no such +bargain with you at our marriage to live always drudging on at Carthage; +my business was Italy, and I never made a secret of it. If I took my +pleasure, had not you your share of it? I leave you free at my departure +to comfort yourself with the next stranger who happens to be shipwrecked +on your coast; be as kind an hostess as you have been to me, and you can +never fail of another husband. In the meantime I call the gods to +witness that I leave your shore unwillingly; for though Juno made the +marriage, yet Jupiter commands me to forsake you.” This is the effect of +what he saith when it is dishonoured out of Latin verse into English +prose. If the poet argued not aright, we must pardon him for a poor +blind heathen, who knew no better morals. + +I have detained your lordship longer than I intended on this objection, +which would indeed weigh something in a Spiritual Court;—but I am not to +defend our poet there. The next, I think, is but a cavil, though the cry +is great against him, and hath continued from the time of Macrobius to +this present age; I hinted it before. They lay no less than want of +invention to his charge—a capital charge, I must acknowledge; for a poet +is a maker, as the word signifies; and who cannot make—that is, +invent—hath his name for nothing. That which makes this accusation look +so strong at the first sight is that he has borrowed so many things from +Homer, Apollonius Rhodius, and others who preceded him. But in the first +place, if invention is to be taken in so strict a sense that the matter +of a poem must be wholly new, and that in all its parts, then Scaliger +hath made out, saith Segrais, that the history of Troy was no more the +invention of Homer than of Virgil. There was not an old woman or almost +a child, but had it in their mouths before the Greek poet or his friends +digested it into this admirable order in which we read it. At this rate, +as Solomon hath told us, there is nothing new beneath the sun. Who, +then, can pass for an inventor if Homer as well as Virgil must be +deprived of that glory! Is Versailles the less a new building because +the architect of that palace hath imitated others which were built before +it? Walls, doors and windows, apartments, offices, rooms of convenience +and magnificence, are in all great houses. So descriptions, figures, +fables, and the rest, must be in all heroic poems; they are the common +materials of poetry, furnished from the magazine of nature: every poet +hath as much right to them as every man hath to air or water: + + “_Quid prohibetis aquas_? _Usus communis aquarum est_.” + +But the argument of the work (that is to say, its principal action), the +economy and disposition of it—these are the things which distinguish +copies from originals. The Poet who borrows nothing from others is yet +to be born; he and the Jews’ Messias will come together. There are parts +of the “Æneis” which resemble some parts both of the “Ilias” and of the +“Odysses;” as, for example, Æneas descended into hell, and Ulysses had +been there before him; Æneas loved Dido, and Ulysses loved Calypso: in +few words, Virgil hath imitated Homer’s “Odysses” in his first six books, +and in his six last the “Ilias.” But from hence can we infer that the +two poets write the same history? Is there no invention in some other +parts of Virgil’s “Æneis?” The disposition of so many various matters, +is not that his own? From what book of Homer had Virgil his episode of +Nysus and Euryalus, of Mezentius and Lausus? From whence did he borrow +his design of bringing Æneas into Italy? of establishing the Roman Empire +on the foundations of a Trojan colony? to say nothing of the honour he +did his patron, not only in his descent from Venus, but in making him so +like her in his best features that the goddess might have mistaken +Augustus for her son. He had indeed the story from common fame, as Homer +had his from the Egyptian priestess. _Æneadum genetriæ_ was no more +unknown to Lucretius than to him; but Lucretius taught him not to form +his hero, to give him piety or valour for his manners—and both in so +eminent a degree that, having done what was possible for man to save his +king and country, his mother was forced to appear to him and restrain his +fury, which hurried him to death in their revenge. But the poet made his +piety more successful; he brought off his father and his son; and his +gods witnessed to his devotion by putting themselves under his +protection, to be replaced by him in their promised Italy. Neither the +invention nor the conduct of this great action were owing to Homer or any +other poet; it is one thing to copy, and another thing to imitate from +nature. The copier is that servile imitator to whom Horace gives no +better a name than that of animal; he will not so much as allow him to be +a man. Raffaelle imitated nature; they who copy one of Raffaelle’s +pieces, imitate but him, for his work is their original. They translate +him, as I do Virgil; and fall as short of him as I of Virgil. There is a +kind of invention in the imitation of Raffaelle; for though the thing was +in nature, yet the idea of it was his own. Ulysses travelled, so did +Æneas; but neither of them were the first travellers: for Cain went into +the land of Nod before they were born, and neither of the poets ever +heard of such a man. If Ulysses had been killed at Troy, yet Æneas must +have gone to sea, or he could never have arrived in Italy; but the +designs of the two poets were as different as the courses of their +heroes—one went home, and the other sought a home. + +To return to my first similitude. Suppose Apelles and Raffaelle had each +of them painted a burning Troy, might not the modern painter have +succeeded as well as the ancient, though neither of them had seen the +town on fire? For the drafts of both were taken from the ideas which +they had of nature. Cities have been burnt before either of them were in +being. But to close the simile as I began it: they would not have +designed it after the same manner; Apelles would have distinguished +Pyrrhus from the rest of all the Grecians, and showed him forcing his +entrance into Priam’s palace; there he had set him in the fairest light, +and given him the chief place of all his figures, because he was a +Grecian and he would do honour to his country. Raffaelle, who was an +Italian, and descended from the Trojans, would have made Æneas the hero +of his piece, and perhaps not with his father on his back, his son in one +hand, his bundle of gods in the other, and his wife following (for an act +of piety is not half so graceful in a picture as an act of courage); he +would rather have drawn him killing Androgeus or some other hand to hand, +and the blaze of the fires should have darted full upon his face, to make +him conspicuous amongst his Trojans. This, I think, is a just comparison +betwixt the two poets in the conduct of their several designs. Virgil +cannot be said to copy Homer; the Grecian had only the advantage of +writing first. If it be urged that I have granted a resemblance in some +parts, yet therein Virgil has excelled him; for what are the tears of +Calypso for being left, to the fury and death of Dido? Where is there +the whole process of her passion and all its violent effects to be found +in the languishing episode of the “Odysses”? If this be to copy, let the +critics show us the same disposition, features, or colouring in their +original. The like may be said of the descent to hell, which was not of +Homer’s invention either; he had it from the story of Orpheus and +Eurydice. But to what end did Ulysses make that journey? Æneas +undertook it by the express commandment of his father’s ghost. There he +was to show him all the succeeding heroes of his race, and next to +Romulus (mark, if you please the address of Virgil) his own patron, +Augustus Cæsar. Anchises was likewise to instruct him how to manage the +Italian war, and how to conclude it with his honour—that is, in other +words, to lay the foundations of that empire which Augustus was to +govern. This is the noble invention of our author, but it hath been +copied by so many sign-post daubers that now it is grown fulsome, rather +by their want of skill than by the commonness. + +In the last place. I may safely grant that by reading Homer, Virgil was +taught to imitate his invention—that is to imitate like him (which is no +more than if a painter studied Raffaelle that he might learn to design +after his manner). And thus I might imitate Virgil if I were capable of +writing an heroic poem, and yet the invention be my own; but I should +endeavour to avoid a servile copying. I would not give the same story +under other names, with the same characters, in the same order, and with +the same sequel, for every common reader to find me out at the first +sight for a plagiary, and cry, “This I read before in Virgil in a better +language and in better verse.” This is like Merry-Andrew on the low rope +copying lubberly the same tricks which his master is so dexterously +performing on the high. + +I will trouble your lordship but with one objection more, which I know +not whether I found in Le Febvre or Valois, but I am sure I have read it +in another French critic, whom I will not name because I think it is not +much for his reputation. Virgil in the heat of action—suppose, for +example, in describing the fury of his hero in a battle (when he is +endeavouring to raise our concernments to the highest pitch)—turns short +on the sudden into some similitude which diverts, say they, your +attention from the main subject, and misspends it on some trivial image. +He pours cold water into the caldron when his business is to make it +boil. + +This accusation is general against all who would be thought heroic poets, +but I think it touches Virgil less than any; he is too great a master of +his art to make a blot which may so easily be hit. Similitudes (as I +have said) are not for tragedy, which is all violent, and where the +passions are in a perpetual ferment; for there they deaden, where they +should animate; they are not of the nature of dialogue unless in comedy. +A metaphor is almost all the stage can suffer, which is a kind of +similitude comprehended in a word. But this figure has a contrary effect +in heroic poetry; there it is employed to raise the admiration, which is +its proper business; and admiration is not of so violent a nature as fear +or hope, compassion or horror, or any concernment we can have for such or +such a person on the stage. Not but I confess that similitudes and +descriptions when drawn into an unreasonable length must needs nauseate +the reader. Once I remember (and but once) Virgil makes a similitude of +fourteen lines, and his description of Fame is about the same number. He +is blamed for both, and I doubt not but he would have contracted them had +be lived to have reviewed his work; but faults are no precedents. This I +have observed of his similitudes in general—that they are not placed (as +our unobserving critics tell us) in the heat of any action, but commonly +in its declining; when he has warmed us in his description as much as +possibly he can, then (lest that warmth should languish) he renews it by +some apt similitude which illustrates his subject and yet palls not his +audience. I need give your lordship but one example of this kind, and +leave the rest to your observation when next you review the whole “Æneis” +in the original, unblemished by my rude translation; it is in the first +hook, where the poet describes Neptune composing the ocean, on which +Æolus had raised a tempest without his permission. He had already +chidden the rebellious winds for obeying the commands of their usurping +master; he had warned them from the seas; he had beaten down the billows +with his mace; dispelled the clouds, restored the sunshine, while Triton +and Cymothoe were heaving the ships from off the quicksands, before the +poet would offer at a similitude for illustration:— + + “_Ac_, _veluti magno in populo cum sæpe coorta est_ + _Seditio_, _sævitque animis ignobile vulgus_; + _Jamque faces_, _et saxa volant_; _furor arma ministrat_; + _Tum_, _pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem_ + _Conspexere_, _silent_, _arrectisque auribus adstant_: + _Ille regit dictis animos_, _et pectora mulcet_: + _Sic cunctus pelagi cecidit fragor_, _æquora postquam_ + _Prospiciens genitor_, _coeloque invectus aperto_ + _Flectit equos_, _curruque volans dat lora secundo_.” + +This is the first similitude which Virgil makes in this poem, and one of +the longest in the whole, for which reason I the rather cite it. While +the storm was in its fury, any allusion had been improper; for the poet +could have compared it to nothing more impetuous than itself; +consequently he could have made no illustration. If he could have +illustrated, it had been an ambitious ornament out of season, and would +have diverted our concernment (_nunc non erat his locus_), and therefore +he deferred it to its proper place. + +These are the criticisms of most moment which have been made against the +“Æneis” by the ancients or moderns. As for the particular exceptions +against this or that passage, Macrobius and Pontanus have answered them +already. If I desired to appear more learned than I am, it had been as +easy for me to have taken their objections and solutions as it is for a +country parson to take the expositions of the Fathers out of Junius and +Tremellius, or not to have named the authors from whence I had them; for +so Ruæus (otherwise a most judicious commentator on Virgil’s works) has +used Pontanus, his greatest benefactor, of whom he is very silent, and I +do not remember that he once cites him. + +What follows next is no objection; for that implies a fault, and it had +been none in Virgil if he had extended the time of his action beyond a +year—at least, Aristotle has set no precise limits to it. Homer’s, we +know, was within two months; Tasso; I am sure, exceeds not a summer, and +if I examined him perhaps he might be reduced into a much less compass. +Bossu leaves it doubtful whether Virgil’s action were within the year, or +took up some months beyond it. Indeed, the whole dispute is of no more +concernment to the common reader than it is to a ploughman whether +February this year had twenty-eight or twenty-nine days in it; but for +the satisfaction of the more curious (of which number I am sure your +lordship is one) I will translate what I think convenient out of Segrais, +whom perhaps you have not read, for he has made it highly probable that +the action of the “Æneis” began in the spring, and was not extended +beyond the autumn; and we have known campaigns that have begun sooner and +have ended later. + +Ronsard and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of opinion that the +action of this poem takes up almost a year and half, ground their +calculation thus:—Anchises died in Sicily at the end of winter or +beginning of the spring. Æneas, immediately after the interment of his +father, puts to sea for Italy; he is surprised by the tempest described +in the beginning of the first book; and there it is that the scene of the +poem opens, and where the action must commence. He is driven by this +storm on the coasts of Africa; he stays at Carthage all that summer, and +almost all the winter following; sets sail again for Italy just before +the beginning of the spring; meets with contrary winds, and makes Sicily +the second time. This part of the action completes the year. Then he +celebrates the anniversary of his father’s funerals, and shortly after +arrives at Cumes. And from thence his time is taken up in his first +treaty with Latinus; the overture of the war; the siege of his camp by +Turnus; his going for succours to relieve it; his return; the raising of +the siege by the first battle; the twelve days’ truce; the second battle; +the assault of Laurentum, and the single fight with Turnus—all which, +they say, cannot take up less than four or five months more, by which +account we cannot suppose the entire action to be contained in a much +less compass than a year and half. + +Segrais reckons another way, and his computation is not condemned by the +learned Ruæus, who compiled and published the commentaries on our poet +which we call the “Dauphin’s Virgil.” He allows the time of year when +Anchises died to be in the latter end of winter or the beginning of the +spring; he acknowledges that when Æneas is first seen at sea afterwards, +and is driven by the tempest on the coast of Africa, is the time when the +action is naturally to begin; he confesses farther, that Æneas left +Carthage in the latter end of winter, for Dido tells him in express +terms, as an argument for his longer stay— + + “_Quin etiam hiberno moliris sidere classem_.” + +But whereas Ronsard’s followers suppose that when Æneas had buried his +father he set sail immediately for Italy (though the tempest drove him on +the coast of Carthage), Segrais will by no means allow that supposition, +but thinks it much more probable that he remained in Sicily till the +midst of July or the beginning of August, at which time he places the +first appearance of his hero on the sea, and there opens the action of +the poem. From which beginning, to the death of Turnus, which concludes +the action, there need not be supposed above ten months of intermediate +time; for arriving at Carthage in the latter end of summer, staying there +the winter following, departing thence in the very beginning of the +spring, making a short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, +and making the war, may be reasonably judged the business but of ten +months. To this the Ronsardians reply that, having been for seven years +before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in Sicily than to +inter his father—after that office was performed, what remained for him +but without delay to pursue his first adventure? To which Segrais +answers that the obsequies of his father, according to the rites of the +Greeks and Romans, would detain him for many days; that a longer time +must be taken up in the re-fitting of his ships after so tedious a +voyage, and in refreshing his weather-beaten soldiers on a friendly +coast. These indeed are but suppositions on both sides, yet those of +Segrais seem better grounded; for the feast of Dido, when she entertained +Æneas first, has the appearance of a summer’s night, which seems already +almost ended, when he begins his story. Therefore the love was made in +autumn; the hunting followed properly, when the heats of that scorching +country were declining. The winter was passed in jollity, as the season +and their love required; and he left her in the latter end of winter, as +is already proved. This opinion is fortified by the arrival of Æneas at +the mouth of Tiber, which marks the season of the spring, that season +being perfectly described by the singing of the birds saluting the dawn, +and by the beauty of the place, which the poet seems to have painted +expressly in the seventh Æneid:— + + “_Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis_, + _Cùm venti posuere_ . . . + . . . _variæ circumque supraque_ + _Assuetæ ripis volucres_, _et fluminis alveo_, + _Æthera mulcebant cantu_.” + +The remainder of the action required but three months more; for when +Æneas went for succour to the Tuscans, he found their army in a readiness +to march and wanting only a commander: so that, according to this +calculation, the “Æneas” takes not up above a year complete, and may be +comprehended in less compass. + +This, amongst other circumstances treated more at large by Segrais, +agrees with the rising of Orion, which caused the tempest described in +the beginning of the first book. By some passages in the “Pastorals,” +but more particularly in the “Georgics,” our poet is found to be an exact +astronomer, according to the knowledge of that age. Now Ilioneus, whom +Virgil twice employs in embassies as the best speaker of the Trojans, +attributes that tempest to Orion in his speech to Dido:— + + “Cum subito assurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion.” + +He must mean either the heliacal or achronical rising of that sign. The +heliacal rising of a constellation is when it comes from under the rays +of the sun, and begins to appear before daylight. The achronical rising, +on the contrary, is when it appears at the close of day, and in +opposition of the sun’s diurnal course. The heliacal rising of Orion is +at present computed to be about the 6th of July; and about that time it +is that he either causes or presages tempests on the seas. + +Segrais has observed farther, that when Anna counsels Dido to stay Æneas +during the winter, she speaks also of Orion:— + + “_Dum pelago desævit hiems_, _et aquosus Orion_.” + +If therefore Ilioneus, according to our supposition, understand the +heliacal rising of Orion, Anna must mean the achronical, which the +different epithets given to that constellation seem to manifest. +Ilioneus calls him _nimbosus_, Anna, _aquosus_. He is tempestuous in the +summer, when he rises heliacally; and rainy in the winter, when he rises +achronically. Your lordship will pardon me for the frequent repetition +of these cant words, which I could not avoid in this abbreviation of +Segrais, who, I think, deserves no little commendation in this new +criticism. + +I have yet a word or two to say of Virgil’s machines, from my own +observation of them. He has imitated those of Homer, but not copied +them. It was established long before this time, in the Roman religion as +well as in the Greek, that there were gods, and both nations for the most +part worshipped the same deities, as did also the Trojans (from whom the +Romans, I suppose, would rather be thought to derive the rites of their +religion than from the Grecians, because they thought themselves +descended from them). Each of those gods had his proper office, and the +chief of them their particular attendants. Thus Jupiter had in propriety +Ganymede and Mercury, and Juno had Iris. It was not for Virgil, then, to +Create new ministers; he must take what he found in his religion. It +cannot therefore be said that he borrowed them from Homer, any more than +from Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds occasion for +them, as the Grecian poet did; but he invents the occasions for which he +uses them. Venus, after the destruction of Troy, had gained Neptune +entirely to her party; therefore we find him busy in the beginning of the +“Æneis” to calm the tempest raised by Æolus, and afterwards conducting +the Trojan fleet to Cumes in safety, with the loss only of their pilot, +for whom he bargains. I name those two examples—amongst a hundred which +I omit—to prove that Virgil, generally speaking, employed his machines in +performing those things which might possibly have been done without them. +What more frequent than a storm at sea upon the rising of Orion? What +wonder if amongst so many ships there should one be overset, which was +commanded by Orontes, though half the winds had not been there which +Æolus employed? Might not Palinurus, without a miracle, fall asleep and +drop into the sea, having been over-wearied with watching, and secure of +a quiet passage by his observation of the skies? At least Æneas, who +knew nothing of the machine of Somnus, takes it plainly in this sense:— + + “_O nimium coelo et pelago confise sereno_, + _Nudus in ignotâ_, _Palinure_, _jacebis arenâ_.” + +But machines sometimes are specious things to amuse the reader, and give +a colour of probability to things otherwise incredible; and, besides, it +soothed the vanity of the Romans to find the gods so visibly concerned in +all the actions of their predecessors. We who are better taught by our +religion, yet own every wonderful accident which befalls us for the best, +to be brought to pass by some special providence of Almighty God, and by +the care of guardian angels; and from hence I might infer that no heroic +poem can be writ on the Epicurean principles, which I could easily +demonstrate if there were need to prove it or I had leisure. + +When Venus opens the eyes of her son Æneas to behold the gods who +combated against Troy in that fatal night when it was surprised, we share +the pleasure of that glorious vision (which Tasso has not ill copied in +the sacking of Jerusalem). But the Greeks had done their business though +neither Neptune, Juno, or Pallas had given them their divine assistance. +The most crude machine which Virgil uses is in the episode of Camilla, +where Opis by the command of her mistress kills Aruns. The next is in +the twelfth Æneid, where Venus cures her son Æneas. But in the last of +these the poet was driven to a necessity, for Turnus was to be slain that +very day; and Æneas, wounded as he was, could not have engaged him in +single combat unless his hurt had been miraculously healed and the poet +had considered that the dittany which she brought from Crete could not +have wrought so speedy an effect without the juice of ambrosia which she +mingled with it. After all, that his machine might not seem too violent, +we see the hero limping after Turnus; the wound was skinned, but the +strength of his thigh was not restored. But what reason had our author +to wound Æneas at so critical a time? And how came the cuishes to be +worse tempered than the rest of his armour, which was all wrought by +Vulcan and his journeymen? These difficulties are not easily to be +solved without confessing that Virgil had not life enough to correct his +work, though he had reviewed it and found those errors, which he resolved +to mend; but being prevented by death, and not willing to leave an +imperfect work behind him, he ordained by his last testament that his +“Æneis” should be burned. As for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a +goddess, the machine was not altogether so outrageous as the wounding +Mars and Venus by the sword of Diomede. Two divinities, one would have +thought, might have pleaded their prerogative of impassibility, or at +least not have been wounded by any mortal hand. Beside that, the ἴχωρ +which they shed was so very like our common blood that it was not to be +distinguished from it but only by the name and colour. As for what +Horace says in his “Art of Poetry,” that no machines are to be used +unless on some extraordinary occasion— + + “_Nec deus intersit_, _nisi dignus vindice nodus_”— + +that rule is to be applied to the theatre, of which he is then speaking, +and means no more than this—that when the knot of the play is to be +untied, and no other way is left for making the discovery, then, and not +otherwise, let a god descend upon a rope, and clear the business to the +audience. But this has no relation to the machines which are used in an +epic poem. + +In the last place, for the dira, or flying pest which, flapping on the +shield of Turnus and fluttering about his head, disheartened him in the +duel, and presaged to him his approaching death—I might have placed it +more properly amongst the objections, for the critics who lay want of +courage to the charge of Virgil’s hero quote this passage as a main proof +of their assertion. They say our author had not only secured him before +the duel, but also in the beginning of it had given him the advantage in +impenetrable arms and in his sword; for that of Turnus was not his own +(which was forged by Vulcan for his father), but a weapon which he had +snatched in haste, and by mistake, belonging to his charioteer Metiscus. +That after all this Jupiter, who was partial to the Trojan, and +distrustful of the event, though he had hung the balance and given it a +jog of his hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the +Fates a collateral security by sending the screech-owl to discourage him; +for which they quote these words of Virgil:— + + “_Non me tua turbida virtus_ + _Terret_, _ait_; _dii me terrent_, _et Jupiter hostis_.” + +In answer to which, I say that this machine is one of those which the +poet uses only for ornament, and not out of necessity. Nothing can be +more beautiful or more poetical than his description of the three Diræ, +or the setting of the balance, which our Milton has borrowed from him, +but employed to a different end; for, first, he makes God Almighty set +the scales for St. Gabriel and Satan, when he knew no combat was to +follow; then he makes the good angel’s scale descend, and the devil’s +mount—quite contrary to Virgil, if I have translated the three verses +according to my author’s sense:— + + “_Jupiter ipse duas æquota examine lances_ + _Sustinet_, _et fata imponit diversa duorum_; + _Quem damnet labor_, _et quo vergat pondere letum_.” + +For I have taken these words _Quem damnet labor_ in the sense which +Virgil gives them in another place (_Damnabis tu quoque votis_), to +signify a prosperous event. Yet I dare not condemn so great a genius as +Milton; for I am much mistaken if he alludes not to the text in Daniel +where Belshazzar was put into the balance and found too light. This is +digression, and I return to my subject. I said above that these two +machines of the balance and the Dira were only ornamental, and that the +success of the duel had been the same without them; for when Æneas and +Turnus stood fronting each other before the altar, Turnus looked +dejected, and his colour faded in his face, as if he desponded of the +victory before the fight; and not only he, but all his party, when the +strength of the two champions was judged by the proportion of their +limbs, concluded it was _impar pugna_, and that their chief was +overmatched. Whereupon Juturna, who was of the same opinion, took this +opportunity to break the treaty and renew the war. Juno herself had +plainly told the nymph beforehand that her brother was to fight + + “_Imparibus fatis_; _nec diis_, _nec viribus æquis_;” + +so that there was no need of an apparition to fright Turnus, he had the +presage within himself of his impending destiny. The Dira only served to +confirm him in his first opinion, that it was his destiny to die in the +ensuing combat. And in this sense are those words of Virgil to be taken— + + “_Non me tua turbida virtus_ + _Terret_, _ait_; _dii me terrent_, _et Jupiter hostis_.” + +I doubt not but the adverb _solum_ is to be understood (“It is not your +valour only that gives me this concernment, but I find also by this +portent that Jupiter is my enemy”); for Turnus fled before, when his +first sword was broken, till his sister supplied him with a better, which +indeed he could not use because Æneas kept him at a distance with his +spear. I wonder Ruæus saw not this, where he charges his author so +unjustly for giving Turnus a second sword to no purpose. How could he +fasten a blow or make a thrust, when he was not suffered to approach? +Besides, the chief errand of the Dira was to warn Juturna from the field, +for she could have brought the chariot again when she saw her brother +worsted in the duel. I might farther add that Æneas was so eager of the +fight that he left the city, now almost in his possession, to decide his +quarrel with Turnus by the sword; whereas Turnus had manifestly declined +the combat, and suffered his sister to convey him as far from the reach +of his enemy as she could. I say, not only suffered her, but consented +to it; for it is plain he knew her by these words:— + + “_O soror_, _et dudum agnovi_, _cum prima per artem_ + _Fædera turbasti_, _teque hæc in bella dedisti_; + _Et tunc necquicquam fallis dea_.” + +I have dwelt so long on this subject that I must contract what I have to +say in reference to my translation, unless I would swell my preface into +a volume, and make it formidable to your lordship, when you see so many +pages yet behind. And, indeed, what I have already written, either in +justification or praise of Virgil, is against myself for presuming to +copy in my coarse English the thoughts and beautiful expressions of this +inimitable poet, who flourished in an age when his language was brought +to its last perfection, for which it was particularly owing to him and +Horace. I will give your lordship my opinion that those two friends had +consulted each other’s judgment wherein they should endeavour to excel; +and they seem to have pitched on propriety of thought, elegance of words, +and harmony of numbers. According to this model, Horace wrote his odes +and epodes; for his satires and epistles, being intended wholly for +instruction, required another style— + + “Ornari res ipsa negat, contenta doceri”— + +and therefore, as he himself professes, are _sermoni propriora_ (nearer +prose than verse). But Virgil, who never attempted the lyric verse, is +everywhere elegant, sweet, and flowing in his hexameters. His words are +not only chosen, but the places in which he ranks them for the sound; he +who removes them from the station wherein their master sets them spoils +the harmony. What he says of the Sibyl’s prophecies may be as properly +applied to every word of his—they must be read in order as they lie; the +least breath discomposes them, and somewhat of their divinity is lost. I +cannot boast that I have been thus exact in my verses; but I have +endeavoured to follow the example of my master, and am the first +Englishman perhaps who made it his design to copy him in his numbers, his +choice of words, and his placing them for the sweetness of the sound. On +this last consideration I have shunned the cæsura as much as possibly I +could; for wherever that is used, it gives a roughness to the verse, of +which we can have little need in a language which is overstocked with +consonants. Such is not the Latin where the vowels and consonants are +mixed in proportion to each other; yet Virgil judged the vowels to have +somewhat of an over-balance, and therefore tempers their sweetness with +cæsuras. Such difference there is in tongues that the same figure which +roughens one, gives majesty to another; and that was it which Virgil +studied in his verses. Ovid uses it but rarely; and hence it is that his +versification cannot so properly be called sweet as luscious. The +Italians are forced upon it once or twice in every line, because they +have a redundancy of vowels in their language; their metal is so soft +that it will not coin without alloy to harden it. On the other side, for +the reason already named, it is all we can do to give sufficient +sweetness to our language; we must not only choose our words for +elegance, but for sound—to perform which a mastery in the language is +required; the poet must have a magazine of words, and have the art to +manage his few vowels to the best advantage, that they may go the +farther. He must also know the nature of the vowels—which are more +sonorous, and which more soft and sweet—and so dispose them as his +present occasions require; all which, and a thousand secrets of +versification beside, he may learn from Virgil, if he will take him for +his guide. If he be above Virgil, and is resolved to follow his own +_verve_ (as the French call it), the proverb will fall heavily upon him: +“Who teaches himself has a fool for his master.” + +Virgil employed eleven years upon his “Æneis,” yet he left it, as he +thought himself, imperfect; which, when I seriously consider, I wish +that, instead of three years which I have spent in the translation of his +works, I had four years more allowed me to correct my errors, that I +might make my version somewhat more tolerable than it is; for a poet +cannot have too great a reverence for his readers if he expects his +labours should survive him. Yet I will neither plead my age nor sickness +in excuse of the faults which I have made. That I wanted time is all I +have to say; for some of my subscribers grew so clamorous that I could no +longer defer the publication. I hope, from the candour of your lordship, +and your often-experienced goodness to me, that if the faults are not too +many you will make allowances, with Horace:— + + “_Si plura nitent in carmine_, _non ego paucis_ + _Offendar maculis_, _quas aut incuria fudit_, + _Aut humana parùm cavit natura_.” + +You may please also to observe that there is not, to the best of my +remembrance, one vowel gaping on another for want of a cæsura in this +whole poem. But where a vowel ends a word the next begins either with a +consonant or what is its equivalent; for our _w_ and _h_ aspirate, and +our diphthongs, are plainly such. The greatest latitude I take is in the +letter _y_ when it concludes a word and the first syllable of the next +begins with a vowel. Neither need I have called this a latitude, which +is only an explanation of this general rule—that no vowel can be cut off +before another when we cannot sink the pronunciation of it, as _he_, +_she_, _me_, _I_, &c. Virgil thinks it sometimes a beauty to imitate the +licence of the Greeks, and leave two vowels opening on each other, as in +that verse of the third pastoral— + + “_Et succus pecori_, _et lac subducitur agnis_.” + +But _nobis non licet esse tam disertis_—at least, if we study to refine +our numbers. I have long had by me the materials of an English +“Prosodia,” containing all the mechanical rules of versification, wherein +I have treated with some exactness of the feet, the quantities, and the +pauses. The French and Italians know nothing of the two first—at least, +their best poets have not practised them. As for the pauses, Malherbe +first brought them into France within this last century, and we see how +they adorn their Alexandrines. But as Virgil propounds a riddle which he +leaves unsolved— + + “_Dic quibus in terris_, _inscripti nomina regum_ + _Nascantur flores_, _et Phyllida solus habeto_”— + +so I will give your lordship another, and leave the exposition of it to +your acute judgment. I am sure there are few who make verses have +observed the sweetness of these two lines in “Cooper’s Hill”— + + “Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull; + Strong without rage; without o’erflowing, full”— + +and there are yet fewer who can find the reason of that sweetness. I +have given it to some of my friends in conversation, and they have +allowed the criticism to be just. But since the evil of false quantities +is difficult to be cured in any modern language; since the French and the +Italians, as well as we, are yet ignorant what feet are to be used in +heroic poetry; since I have not strictly observed those rules myself +which I can teach others; since I pretend to no dictatorship among my +fellow-poets; since, if I should instruct some of them to make +well-running verses, they want genius to give them strength as well as +sweetness; and, above all, since your lordship has advised me not to +publish that little which I know, I look on your counsel as your command, +which I shall observe inviolably till you shall please to revoke it and +leave me at liberty to make my thoughts public. In the meantime, that I +may arrogate nothing to myself, I must acknowledge that Virgil in Latin +and Spenser in English have been my masters. Spenser has also given me +the boldness to make use sometimes of his Alexandrine line, which we +call, though improperly, the Pindaric, because Mr. Cowley has often +employed it in his odes. It adds a certain majesty to the verse when it +is used with judgment, and stops the sense from overflowing into another +line. Formerly the French, like us and the Italians, had but five feet +or ten syllables in their heroic verse; but since Ronsard’s time, as I +suppose, they found their tongue too weak to support their epic poetry +without the addition of another foot. That indeed has given it somewhat +of the run and measure of a trimetre, but it runs with more activity than +strength. Their language is not strong with sinews, like our English; it +has the nimbleness of a greyhound, but not the bulk and body of a +mastiff. Our men and our verses overbear them by their weight; and +_pondere_, _non numero_ is the British motto. The French have set up +purity for the standard of their language; and a masculine vigour is that +of ours. Like their tongue is the genius of their poets, light and +trifling in comparison of the English—more proper for sonnets, madrigals, +and elegies than heroic poetry. The turn on thoughts and words is their +chief talent: but the epic poem is too stately to receive those little +ornaments. The painters draw their nymphs in thin and airy habits, but +the weight of gold and of embroideries is reserved for queens and +goddesses. Virgil is never frequent in those turns, like Ovid, but much +more sparing of them in his “Æneis” than in his Pastorals and Georgics. + + “_Ignoscenda quidem_, _scirent si ignoscere manes_.” + +That turn is beautiful indeed; but he employs it in the story of Orpheus +and Eurydice, not in his great poem. I have used that licence in his +“Æneis” sometimes, but I own it as my fault; it was given to those who +understand no better. It is like Ovid’s + + “_Semivirumque bovem_, _semibovemque virum_.” + +The poet found it before his critics, but it was a darling sin which he +would not be persuaded to reform. + +The want of genius, of which I have accused the French, is laid to their +charge by one of their own great authors, though I have forgotten his +name, and where I read it. If rewards could make good poets, their great +master has not been wanting on his part in his bountiful encouragements; +for he is wise enough to imitate Augustus if he had a Maro. The Triumvir +and Proscriber had descended to us in a more hideous form than they now +appear, if the emperor had not taken care to make friends of him and +Horace. I confess the banishment of Ovid was a blot in his escutcheon; +yet he was only banished, and who knows but his crime was capital? And +then his exile was a favour. Ariosto, who, with all his faults, must be +acknowledged a great poet, has put these words into the mouth of an +Evangelist; but whether they will pass for gospel now I cannot tell:— + + “Non fu si santo ni benigno Augusto, + Come la tuba di Virgilio suona; + L’haver havuto in poesia buon gusto, + La proscrittione iniqua gli pardona.” + +But heroic poetry is not of the growth of France, as it might be of +England if it were cultivated. Spenser wanted only to have read the +rules of Bossu, for no man was ever born with a greater genius or had +more knowledge to support it. But the performance of the French is not +equal to their skill; and hitherto we have wanted skill to perform +better. Segrais, whose preface is so wonderfully good, yet is wholly +destitute of elevation; though his version is much better than that of +the two brothers, or any of the rest who have attempted Virgil. Annibale +Caro is a great name amongst the Italians, yet his translation of the +“Æneis” is most scandalously mean, though he has taken the advantage of +writing in blank verse, and freed himself from the shackles of modern +rhyme—if it be modern; for Le Clerc has told us lately, and I believe has +made it out, that David’s Psalms were written in as errant rhyme as they +are translated. Now if a Muse cannot run when she is unfettered, it is a +sign she has but little speed. I will not make a digression here, though +I am strangely tempted to it, but will only say that he who can write +well in rhyme may write better in blank verse. Rhyme is certainly a +constraint even to the best poets, and those who make it with most ease; +though perhaps I have as little reason to complain of that hardship as +any man, excepting Quarles and Withers. What it adds to sweetness, it +takes away from sense; and he who loses the least by it may be called a +gainer; it often makes us swerve from an author’s meaning. As if a mark +he set up for an archer at a great distance, let him aim as exactly as he +can, the least wind will take his arrow and divert it from the white. + +I return to our Italian translator of the “Æneis;” he is a foot-poet; he +lackeys by the side of Virgil at the best, but never mounts behind him. +Doctor Morelli, who is no mean critic in our poetry, and therefore may be +presumed to be a better in his own language, has confirmed me in this +opinion by his judgment, and thinks withal that he has often mistaken his +master’s sense. I would say so if I durst, but am afraid I have +committed the same fault more often and more grossly; for I have forsaken +Ruæus (whom generally I follow) in many places, and made expositions of +my own in some, quite contrary to him, of which I will give but two +examples, because they are so near each other in the tenth Æneid:— + + “_Sorti pater æquus utrique_.” + +Pallas says it to Turnus just before they fight. Ruæus thinks that the +word _pater_ is to be referred to Evander, the father of Pallas; but how +could he imagine that it was the same thing to Evander if his son were +slain, or if he overcame? The poet certainly intended Jupiter, the +common father of mankind, who, as Pallas hoped, would stand an impartial +spectator of the combat, and not be more favourable to Turnus than to +him. The second is not long after it, and both before the duel is begun. +They are the words of Jupiter, who comforts Hercules for the death of +Pallas, which was immediately to ensue, and which Hercules could not +hinder, though the young hero had addressed his prayers to him for his +assistance, because the gods cannot control destiny. The verse follows— + + “_Sic ait_; _atque oculos Rutulorum rejicit arvis_”— + +which the same Ruæus thus construes: “Jupiter, after he had said this, +immediately turns his eyes to the Rutulian fields and beholds the duel.” +I have given this place another exposition—that he turned his eyes from +the field of combat that he might not behold a sight so unpleasing to +him. The word _rejicit_, I know, will admit of both senses; but Jupiter +having confessed that he could not alter fate, and being grieved he could +not in consideration of Hercules, it seems to me that he should avert his +eyes rather than take pleasure in the spectacle. But of this I am not so +confident as the other, though I think I have followed Virgil’s sense. + +What I have said, though it has the face of arrogance, yet is intended +for the honour of my country, and therefore I will boldly own that this +English translation has more of Virgil’s spirit in it than either the +French or the Italian. Some of our countrymen have translated episodes +and other parts of Virgil with great success; as particularly your +lordship, whose version of Orpheus and Eurydice is eminently good. +Amongst the dead authors, the Silenus of my Lord Rescommon cannot be too +much commended. I say nothing of Sir John Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. +Cowley; it is the utmost of my ambition to be thought their equal, or not +to be much inferior to them and some others of the living. But it is one +thing to take pains on a fragment and translate it perfectly, and another +thing to have the weight of a whole author on my shoulders. They who +believe the burden light, let them attempt the fourth, sixth, or eighth +Pastoral; the first or fourth Georgic; and, amongst the Æneids, the +fourth, the fifth, the seventh, the ninth, the tenth, the eleventh, or +the twelfth, for in these I think I have succeeded best. + +Long before I undertook this work I was no stranger to the original. I +had also studied Virgil’s design, his disposition of it, his manners, his +judicious management of the figures, the sober retrenchments of his +sense, which always leaves somewhat to gratify our imagination, on which +it may enlarge at pleasure; but, above all, the elegance of his +expressions and the harmony of his numbers. For, as I have said in a +former dissertation, the words are in poetry what the colours are in +painting. If the design be good, and the draft be true, the colouring is +the first beauty that strikes the eye. Spenser and Milton are the +nearest in English to Virgil and Horace in the Latin, and I have +endeavoured to form my style by imitating their masters. I will farther +own to you, my lord, that my chief ambition is to please those readers +who have discernment enough to prefer Virgil before any other poet in the +Latin tongue. Such spirits as he desired to please, such would I choose +for my judges, and would stand or fall by them alone. Segrais has +distinguished the readers of poetry, according to their capacity of +judging, into three classes (he might have said the same of writers, too, +if he had pleased). In the lowest form he places those whom he calls +_les petits esprits_—such things as are our upper-gallery audience in a +playhouse, who like nothing but the husk and rind of wit; prefer a +quibble, a conceit, an epigram, before solid sense and elegant +expression. These are mob-readers. If Virgil and Martial steed for +Parliament-men, we know already who would carry it. But though they make +the greatest appearance in the field, and cry the loudest, the best of it +is they are but a sort of French Huguenots, or Dutch boors, brought ever +in herds, but not naturalised, who have not land of two pounds per annum +in Parnassus, and therefore are not privileged to poll. Their authors +are of the same level; fit to represent them on a mountebank’s stage, or +to be masters of the ceremonies in a bear-garden. Yet these are they who +have the most admirers. But it often happens, to their mortification, +that as their readers improve their stock of sense (as they may by +reading better books, and by conversation with men of judgment), they +soon forsake them; and when the torrent from the mountains falls no more, +the swelling writer is reduced into his shallow bed, like the Mançanares +at Madrid, with scarce water to moisten his own pebbles. There are a +middle sort of readers (as we held there is a middle state of souls), +such as have a farther insight than the former, yet have not the capacity +of judging right; for I speak not of those who are bribed by a party, and +knew better if they were not corrupted, but I mean a company of warm +young men, who are not yet arrived so far as to discern the difference +betwixt fustian or ostentations sentences and the true sublime. These +are above liking Martial or Owen’s epigrams, but they would certainly set +Virgil below Statius or Lucan. I need not say their poets are of the +same paste with their admirers. They affect greatness in all they write, +but it is a bladdered greatness, like that of the vain man whom Seneca +describes an ill habit of body, full of humours, and swelled with dropsy. +Even these, too, desert their authors as their judgment ripens. The +young gentlemen themselves are commonly misled by their pedagogue at +school, their tutor at the university, or their governor in their +travels, and many of these three sorts are the most positive blockheads +in the world. How many of these flatulent writers have I known who have +sunk in their reputation after seven or eight editions of their works! +for indeed they are poets only for young men. They had great success at +their first appearance, but not being of God, as a wit said formerly, +they could not stand. + +I have already named two sorts of judges, but Virgil wrote for neither of +them, and by his example I am not ambitious of pleasing the lowest or the +middle form of readers. He chose to please the most judicious souls, of +the highest rank and truest understanding. These are few in number; but +whoever is so happy as to gain their approbation can never lose it, +because they never give it blindly. Then they have a certain magnetism +in their judgment which attracts others to their sense. Every day they +gain some new proselyte, and in time become the Church. For this reason +a well-weighed judicious poem, which at its first appearance gains no +more upon the world than to be just received, and rather not blamed than +much applauded, insinuates itself by insensible degrees into the liking +of the reader; the more he studies it, the more it grows upon him, every +time he takes it up he discovers some new graces in it. And whereas +poems which are produced by the vigour of imagination only have a gloss +upon them at the first (which time wears off), the works of judgment are +like the diamond, the more they are polished the more lustre they +receive. Such is the difference betwixt Virgil’s “Æneis” and Marini’s +“Adone.” And if I may be allowed to change the metaphor, I would say +that Virgil is like the Fame which he describes:— + + “_Mobilitate viget_, _viresque acquirit eundo_.” + +Such a sort of reputation is my aim, though in a far inferior degree, +according to my motto in the title-page—_sequiturque patrem non passibus +æquis_—and therefore I appeal to the highest court of judicature, like +that of the peers, of which your lordship is so great an ornament. + +Without this ambition which I own, of desiring to please the _judices +natos_, I could never have been able to have done anything at this age, +when the fire of poetry is commonly extinguished in other men. Yet +Virgil has given me the example of Entellus for my encouragement; when he +was well heated, the younger champion could not stand before him. And we +find the elder contended not for the gift, but for the honour (_nec dona +moror_); for Dampier has informed us in his “Voyages” that the air of the +country which produces gold is never wholesome. + +I had long since considered that the way to please the best judges is not +to translate a poet literally, and Virgil least of any other; for his +peculiar beauty lying in his choice of words, I am excluded from it by +the narrow compass of our heroic verse, unless I would make use of +monosyllables only, and these clogged with consonants, which are the dead +weight of our mother tongue. It is possible, I confess, though it rarely +happens, that a verse of monosyllables may sound harmoniously; and some +examples of it I have seen. My first line of the “Æneis” is not harsh— + + “Arms, and the man I sing, who forced by Fate,” &c.— + +but a much better instance may be given from the last line of Manilius, +made English by our learned and judicious Mr. Creech— + + “Nor could the world have borne so fierce a flame”— + +where the many liquid consonants are placed so artfully that they give a +pleasing sound to the words, though they are all of one syllable. It is +true, I have been sometimes forced upon it in other places of this work, +but I never did it out of choice: I was either in haste, or Virgil gave +me no occasion for the ornament of words; for it seldom happens but a +monosyllable line turns verse to prose, and even that prose is rugged and +unharmonious. Philarchus, I remember, taxes Balzac for placing twenty +monosyllables in file without one dissyllable betwixt them. + +The way I have taken is not so strait as metaphrase, nor so loose as +paraphrase; some things, too, I have omitted, and sometimes have added of +my own. Yet the omissions, I hope, are but of circumstances, and such as +would have no grace in English; and the additions, I also hope, are +easily deduced from Virgil’s sense. They will seem (at least, I have the +vanity to think so), not stuck into him, but growing out of him. He +studies brevity more than any other poet; but he had the advantage of a +language wherein much may be comprehended in a little space. We and all +the modern tongues have more articles and pronouns, besides signs of +tenses and cases, and other barbarities on which our speech is built, by +the faults of our forefathers. The Romans founded theirs upon the Greek; +and the Greeks, we know, were labouring many hundred years upon their +language before they brought it to perfection. They rejected all those +signs, and cut off as many articles as they could spare, comprehending in +one word what we are constrained to express in two; which is one reason +why we cannot write so concisely as they have done. The word _pater_, +for example, signifies not only “a father,” but “your father,” “my +father,” “his or her father”—all included in a word. + +This inconvenience is common to all modern tongues, and this alone +constrains us to employ more words than the ancients needed. But having +before observed that Virgil endeavours to be short, and at the same time +elegant, I pursue the excellence and forsake the brevity. For there he +is like ambergris, a rich perfume, but of so close and glutinous a body +that it must be opened with inferior scents of musk or civet, or the +sweetness will not be drawn out into another language. + +On the whole matter I thought fit to steer betwixt the two extremes of +paraphrase and literal translation; to keep as near my author as I could +without losing all his graces, the most eminent of which are in the +beauty of his words: and those words, I must add, are always figurative. +Such of these as would retain their elegance in our tongue, I have +endeavoured to graff on it; but most of them are of necessity to be lest, +because they will not shine in any but their own. Virgil has sometimes +two of them in a line; but the scantiness of our heroic verse is not +capable of receiving more than one; and that, too, must expiate for many +others which have none. Such is the difference of the languages, or such +my want of skill in choosing words. Yet I may presume to say, and I hope +with as much reason as the French translator, that, taking all the +materials of this divine author, I have endeavoured to make Virgil speak +such English as he would himself have spoken if he had been born in +England and in this present age. I acknowledge, with Segrais, that I +have not succeeded in this attempt according to my desire; yet I shall +not be wholly without praise, if in some sort I may be allowed to have +copied the clearness, the purity, the easiness, and the magnificence of +his style. But I shall have occasion to speak farther on this subject +before I end the preface. + +When I mentioned the Pindaric line, I should have added that I take +another licence in my verses; for I frequently make use of triplet +rhymes, and for the same reason—because they bound the sense. And +therefore I generally join these two licences together, and make the last +verse of the triplet a Pindaric; for besides the majesty which it gives, +it confines the sense within the barriers of three lines, which would +languish if it were lengthened into four. Spenser is my example for both +these privileges of English verses; and Chapman has followed him in his +translation of Homer. Mr. Cowley has given in to them after both; and +all succeeding writers after him. I regard them now as the _Magna +Charta_ of heroic poetry; and am too much an Englishman to lose what my +ancestors have gained for me. Let the French and Italians value +themselves on their regularity; strength and elevation are our standard. +I said before, and I repeat it, that the affected purity of the French +has unsinewed their heroic verse. The language of an epic poem is almost +wholly figurative; yet they are so fearful of a metaphor that no example +of Virgil can encourage them to be bold with safety. Sure, they might +warm themselves by that sprightly blaze, without approaching it so close +as to singe their wings; they may come as near it as their master. Not +that I would discourage that purity of diction in which he excels all +other poets; but he knows how far to extend his franchises, and advances +to the verge without venturing a foot beyond it. On the other side, +without being injurious to the memory of our English Pindar, I will +presume to say that his metaphors are sometimes too violent, and his +language is not always pure. But at the same time I must excuse him, for +through the iniquity of the times he was forced to travel at an age when, +instead of learning foreign languages, he should have studied the +beauties of his mother tongue, which, like all other speeches, is to be +cultivated early, or we shall never write it with any kind of elegance. +Thus by gaining abroad he lost at home, like the painter in the +“Arcadia,” who, going to see a skirmish, had his arms lopped off, and +returned, says Sir Philip Sidney, well instructed how to draw a battle, +but without a hand to perform his work. + +There is another thing in which I have presumed to deviate from him and +Spenser. They both make hemistichs, or half-verses, breaking off in the +middle of a line. I confess there are not many such in the “Faërie +Queen,” and even those few might be occasioned by his unhappy choice of +so long a stanza. Mr. Cowley had found out that no kind of staff is +proper for an heroic poem, as being all too lyrical; yet though he wrote +in couplets, where rhyme is freer from constraint, he frequently affects +half-verses, of which we find not one in Homer, and I think not in any of +the Greek poets or the Latin, excepting only Virgil: and there is no +question but he thought he had Virgil’s authority for that licence. But +I am confident our poet never meant to leave him or any other such a +precedent; and I ground my opinion on these two reasons: first, we find +no example of a hemistich in any of his Pastorals or Georgics, for he had +given the last finishing strokes to both these poems; but his “Æneis” he +left so incorrect, at least so short of that perfection at which he +aimed, that we know how hard a sentence he passed upon it. And, in the +second place, I reasonably presume that he intended to have filled up all +these hemistichs, because in one of them we find the sense imperfect:— + + “_Quem tibi jam Troja_ . . . ” (“Æn.” iii. 340.) + +which some foolish grammarian has ended for him with a half-line of +nonsense:— + + “_Peperit fumante Creusa_.” + +For Ascanius must have been born some years before the burning of that +city, which I need not prove. On the other side we find also that he +himself filled up one line in the sixth Æneid, the enthusiasm seizing him +while he was reading to Augustus:— + + “_Misenum Æolidem_, _quo non præstantior alter_ + _Ære ciere viros_, . . . ” + +to which he added in that transport, _Martemque accendare cantu_, and +never was any line more nobly finished, for the reasons which I have +given in the “Book of Painting.” + +On these considerations I have shunned hemistichs, not being willing to +imitate Virgil to a fault, like Alexander’s courtiers, who affected to +hold their necks awry because he could not help it. I am confident your +lordship is by this time of my opinion, and that you will look on those +half-lines hereafter as the imperfect products of a hasty muse, like the +frogs and serpents in the Nile, part of them kindled into life, and part +a lump of unformed, unanimated mud. + +I am sensible that many of my whole verses are as imperfect as those +halves, for want of time to digest them better. But give me leave to +make the excuse of Boccace, who, when he was upbraided that some of his +novels had not the spirit of the rest, returned this answer: that +Charlemagne, who made the Paladins, was never able to raise an army of +them. The leaders may be heroes, but the multitude must consist of +common men. + +I am also bound to tell your lordship, in my own defence, that from the +beginning of the first Georgic to the end of the last Æneid, I found the +difficulty of translation growing on me in every succeeding book. For +Virgil, above all poets, had a stock which I may call almost +inexhaustible, of figurative, elegant, and sounding words. I, who +inherit but a small portion of his genius, and write in a language so +much inferior to the Latin, have found it very painful to vary phrases +when the same sense returns upon me. Even he himself, whether out of +necessity or choice, has often expressed the same thing in the same +words, and often repeated two or three whole verses which he had used +before. Words are not so easily coined as money; and yet we see that the +credit not only of banks, but of exchequers, cracks when little comes in +and much goes out. Virgil called upon me in every line for some new +word, and I paid so long that I was almost bankrupt; so that the latter +end must needs be more burthensome than the beginning or the middle; and +consequently the twelfth Æneid cost me double the time of the first and +second. What had become of me, if Virgil had taxed me with another book? +I had certainly been reduced to pay the public in hammered money for want +of milled; that is, in the same old words which I had used before; and +the receivers must have been forced to have taken anything, where there +was so little to be had. + +Besides this difficulty with which I have struggled and made a shift to +pass it ever, there is one remaining, which is insuperable to all +translators. We are bound to our author’s sense, though with the +latitudes already mentioned; for I think it not so sacred as that one +iota must not be added or diminished, on pain of an anathema. But slaves +we are, and labour on another man’s plantation; we dress the vineyard, +but the wine is the owner’s. If the soil be sometimes barren, then we +are sure of being scourged; if it be fruitful, and our care succeeds, we +are not thanked; for the proud reader will only say—the poor drudge has +done his duty. But this is nothing to what follows; for being obliged to +make his sense intelligible, we are forced to untune our own verses that +we may give his meaning to the reader. He who invents is master of his +thoughts and words: he can turn and vary them as he pleases, till he +renders them harmonious. But the wretched translator has no such +privilege, for being tied to the thoughts, he must make what music he can +in the expression; and for this reason it cannot always be so sweet as +that of the original. There is a beauty of sound, as Segrais has +observed, in some Latin words, which is wholly lost in any modern +language. He instances in that _mollis amaracus_, on which Venus lays +Cupid in the first Æneid. If I should translate it sweet-marjoram, as +the word signifies, the reader would think I had mistaken Virgil; for +these village-words, as I may call them, give us a mean idea of the +thing; but the sound of the Latin is so much more pleasing, by the just +mixture of the vowels with the consonants, that it raises our fancies to +conceive somewhat more noble than a common herb, and to spread roses +under him, and strew lilies over him—a bed not unworthy the grandson of +the goddess. + +If I cannot copy his harmonious numbers, how shall I imitate his noble +flights, where his thoughts and words are equally sublime? _Quem_ + + “ . . . _quisquis studet æmulari_, + . . . _cæratis ope Dedaleâ_ + _Nititur pennis_, _vitreo daturus_ + _Nomina ponto_.” + +What modern language or what poet can express the majestic beauty of this +one verse, amongst a thousand others? + + “_Aude_, _hospes_, _contemnere opes_, _et te quoque dignum_ + _Finge Deo_ . . . ” + +For my part, I am lost in the admiration of it. I contemn the world when +I think on it, and myself when I translate it. + +Lay by Virgil, I beseech your lordship and all my better sort of judges, +when you take up my version, and it will appear a passable beauty when +the original muse is absent; but like Spenser’s false Florimel, made of +snow, it melts and vanishes when the true one comes in sight. + +I will not excuse, but justify, myself for one pretended crime with which +I am liable to be charged by false critics, not only in this translation, +but in many of my original poems—that I Latinise too much. It is true, +that when I find an English word significant and sounding, I neither +borrow from the Latin nor any other language; but when I want at home, I +must seek abroad. If sounding words are not of our growth and +manufacture, who shall hinder me to import them from a foreign country? +I carry not out the treasure of the nation which is never to return, but +what I bring from Italy I spend in England. Here it remains and here it +circulates, for if the coin be good it will pass from one hand to +another. I trade both with the living and the dead for the enrichment of +our native language. We have enough in England to supply our necessity; +but if we will have things of magnificence and splendour, we must get +them by commerce. Poetry requires ornament, and that is not to be had +from our old Teuton monosyllables; therefore, if I find any elegant word +in a classic author, I propose it to be naturalised by using it myself; +and if the public approves of it, the bill passes. But every man cannot +distinguish betwixt pedantry and poetry; every man, therefore, is not fit +to innovate. + +Upon the whole matter, a poet must first be certain that the word he +would introduce is beautiful in the Latin; and is to consider, in the +next place, whether it will agree with the English idiom. After this he +ought to take the opinion of judicious friends, such as are learned in +both languages; and lastly, since no man is infallible, let him use this +licence very sparingly; for if too many foreign words are poured in upon +us, it looks as if they were designed not to assist the natives, but to +conquer them. + +I am now drawing towards a conclusion, and suspect your lordship is very +glad of it. But permit me first to own what helps I have had in this +undertaking. The late Earl of Lauderdale sent me over his new +translation of the “Æneis,” which he had ended before I engaged in the +same design. Neither did I then intend it; but some proposals being +afterwards made me by my bookseller, I desired his lordship’s leave that +I might accept them, which he freely granted, and I have his letter yet +to show for that permission. He resolved to have printed his work, which +he might have done two years before I could publish mine; and had +performed it, if death had not prevented him. But having his manuscript +in my hands, I consulted it as often as I doubted of my author’s sense, +for no man understood Virgil better than that learned nobleman. His +friends, I hear, have yet another and more correct copy of that +translation by them, which had they pleased to have given the public, the +judges must have been convinced that I have not flattered him. + +Besides this help, which was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve has done me +the favour to review the “Æneis,” and compare my version with the +original. I shall never be ashamed to own that this excellent young man +has shown me many faults, which I have endeavoured to correct. It is +true he might have easily found more, and then my translation had been +more perfect. + +Two other worthy friends of mine, who desire to have their names +concealed, seeing me straitened in my time, took pity on me and gave me +the life of Virgil, the two prefaces—to the Pastorals and the +Georgics—and all the arguments in prose to the whole translation; which +perhaps has caused a report that the two first poems are not mine. If it +had been true that I had taken their verses for my own, I might have +gloried in their aid; and like Terence, have farthered the opinion that +Scipio and Lælius joined with me. But the same style being continued +through the whole, and the same laws of versification observed, are +proofs sufficient that this is one man’s work; and your lordship is too +well acquainted with my manner to doubt that any part of it is another’s. + +That your lordship may see I was in earnest when I premised to hasten to +an end, I will not give the reasons why I writ not always in the proper +terms of navigation, land-service, or in the cant of any profession. I +will only say that Virgil has avoided these proprieties, because he writ +not to mariners, soldiers, astronomers, gardeners, peasants, &c., but to +all in general, and in particular to men and ladies of the first quality, +who have been better bred than to be too nicely knowing in the terms. In +such cases, it is enough for a poet to write so plainly that he may be +understood by his readers; to avoid impropriety, and not affect to be +thought learned in all things. + +I have emitted the four preliminary lines of the first Æneid, because I +think them inferior to any four others in the whole poem; and +consequently believe they are not Virgil’s. There is too great a gap +betwixt the adjective _vicina_ in the second line, and the substantive +_arva_ in the latter end of the third; which keeps his meaning in +obscurity too long, and is contrary to the clearness of his style. _Ut +quamvis avido_ is too ambitious an ornament to be his, and _gratum opus +agricolis_ are all words unnecessary, and independent of what he had said +before. _Horrentia Martis arma_ is worse than any of the rest. +_Horrentia_ is such a flat epithet as Tully would have given us in his +verses. It is a mere filler to stop a vacancy in the hexameter, and +connect the preface to the work of Virgil. + +Our author seems to sound a charge, and begins like the clangour of a +trumpet:— + + “_Arma_, _virumque cano_, _Trojæ qui primus ab oris_,”— + +Scarce a word without an _r_, and the vowels for the greater part +sonorous. The prefacer began with _Ille ego_, which he was constrained +to patch up in the fourth line with _at nunc_ to make the sense cohere; +and if both those words are not notorious botches I am much deceived, +though the French translator thinks otherwise. For my own part, I am +rather of the opinion that they were added by Tucca and Varius, than +retrenched. + +I know it may be answered by such as think Virgil the author of the four +lines—that he asserts his title to the “Æneis” in the beginning of this +work, as he did to the two former, in the last lines of the fourth +Georgic. I will not reply otherwise to this, than by desiring them to +compare these four lines with the four others, which we know are his, +because no poet but he alone could write them. If they cannot +distinguish creeping from flying, let them lay down Virgil, and take up +Ovid de Ponto in his stead. My master needed not the assistance of that +preliminary poet to prove his claim: his own majestic mien discovers him +to be the king amidst a thousand courtiers. It was a superfluous office, +and therefore I would not set those verses in the front of Virgil; but +have rejected them to my own preface: + + “I, who before, with shepherds in the groves, + Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves, + And issuing thence, compelled the neighb’ring field + A plenteous crop of rising corn to yield; + Manured the glebe, and stocked the fruitful plain + (A poem grateful to the greedy swain),” &c. + +If there be not a tolerable line in all these six, the prefacer gave me +no occasion to write better. This is a just apology in this place; but I +have done great wrong to Virgil in the whole translation. Want of time, +the inferiority of our language, the inconvenience of rhyme, and all the +other excuses I have made, may alleviate my fault, but cannot justify the +boldness of my undertaking. What avails it me to acknowledge freely that +I have not been able to do him right in any line? For even my own +confession makes against me; and it will always be returned upon me, +“Why, then, did you attempt it?” To which no other answer can be made, +than that I have done him less injury than any of his former libellers. + +What they called his picture had been drawn at length so many times by +the daubers of almost all nations, and still so unlike him, that I +snatched up the pencil with disdain, being satisfied beforehand that I +could make some small resemblance of him, though I must be content with a +worse likeness. A sixth Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a single Orpheus, and +some other features have been exactly taken. But those holiday authors +writ for pleasure, and only showed us what they could have done if they +would have taken pains to perform the whole. + +Be pleased, my lord, to accept with your wonted goodness this unworthy +present which I make you. I have taken off one trouble from you, of +defending it, by acknowledging its imperfections; and though some part of +them are covered in the verse (as Ericthonius rode always in a chariot to +hide his lameness), such of them as cannot be concealed you will please +to connive at, though in the strictness of your judgment you cannot +pardon. If Homer was allowed to nod sometimes, in so long a work it will +be no wonder if I often fall asleep. You took my “Aurengzebe” into your +protection with all his faults; and I hope here cannot be so many, +because I translate an author who gives me such examples of correctness. +What my jury may be I know not; but it is good for a criminal to plead +before a favourable judge: if I had said partial, would your lordship +have forgiven me? Or will you give me leave to acquaint the world that I +have many times been obliged to your bounty since the Revolution? Though +I never was reduced to beg a charity, nor ever had the impudence to ask +one, either of your lordship or your noble kinsman the Earl of Dorset, +much less of any other, yet when I least expected it you have both +remembered me, so inherent it is in your family not to forget an old +servant. It looks rather like ingratitude on my part, that where I have +been so often obliged, I have appeared so seldom to return my thanks, and +where I was also so sure of being well received. Somewhat of laziness +was in the case, and somewhat too of modesty; but nothing of disrespect +or of unthankfulness. I will not say that your lordship has encouraged +me to this presumption, lest, if my labours meet with no success in +public, I may expose your judgment to be censured. As for my own +enemies, I shall never think them worth an answer; and if your lordship +has any, they will not dare to arraign you for want of knowledge in this +art till they can produce somewhat better of their own than your “Essay +on Poetry.” It was on this consideration that I have drawn out my +preface to so great a length. Had I not addressed to a poet and a critic +of the first magnitude, I had myself been taxed for want of judgment, and +shamed my patron for want of understanding. But neither will you, my +lord, so soon be tired as any other, because the discourse is on your +art; neither will the learned reader think it tedious, because it is _ad +Clerum_: at least, when he begins to be weary, the church doors are open. +That I may pursue the allegory with a short prayer after a long sermon. + +May you live happily and long for the service of your country, the +encouragement of good letters and the ornament of poetry, which cannot be +wished more earnestly by any man than by + + Your Lordship’s most humble, + + Most obliged and most + Obedient servant, + + JOHN DRYDEN. + + + +POSTSCRIPT. + + +WHAT Virgil wrote in the vigour of his age (in plenty and at ease) I have +undertaken to translate in my declining years; struggling with wants, +oppressed by sickness, curbed in my genius, liable to be misconstrued in +all I write; and my judges, if they are not very equitable, already +prejudiced against me by the lying character which has been given them of +my morals. Yet steady to my principles, and not dispirited with my +afflictions, I have, by the blessing of God on my endeavours, overcome +all difficulties; and, in some measure, acquitted myself of the debt +which I owed the public when I undertook this work. In the first place, +therefore, I thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power the assistance +He has given me in the beginning, the prosecution, and conclusion of my +present studies, which are more happily performed than I could have +promised to myself when I laboured under such discouragements. For what +I have done, imperfect as it is for want of health and leisure to correct +it, will be judged in after-ages, and possibly in the present, to be no +dishonour to my native country, whose language and poetry would be more +esteemed abroad if they were better understood. Somewhat (give me leave +to say) I have added to both of them in the choice of words and harmony +of numbers, which were wanting, especially the last, in all our poets; +even in those who being endued with genius yet have not cultivated their +mother-tongue with sufficient care, or, relying on the beauty of their +thoughts, have judged the ornament of words and sweetness of sound +unnecessary. One is for raking in Chaucer (our English Ennius) for +antiquated words, which are never to be revived but when sound or +significancy is wanting in the present language. But many of his deserve +not this redemption any more than the crowds of men who daily die, or are +slain for sixpence in a battle, merit to be restored to life if a wish +could revive them. Others have no ear for verse, nor choice of words, +nor distinction of thoughts, but mingle farthings with their gold to make +up the sum. Here is a field of satire opened to me, but since the +Revolution I have wholly renounced that talent. For who would give +physic to the great, when he is uncalled, to do his patient no good and +endanger himself for his prescription? Neither am I ignorant but I may +justly be condemned for many of these faults of which I have too +liberally arraigned others: + + “_Cynthius aurem_ + _Vellit_, _et admonuit_.” + +It is enough for me if the government will let me pass unquestioned. In +the meantime I am obliged in gratitude to return my thanks to many of +them, who have not only distinguished me from others of the same party by +a particular exception of grace, but without considering the man have +been bountiful to the poet, have encouraged Virgil to speak such English +as I could teach him, and rewarded his interpreter for the pains he has +taken in bringing him over into Britain by defraying the charges of his +voyage. Even Cerberus, when he had received the sop, permitted Æneas to +pass freely to Elysium. Had it been offered me and I had refused it, yet +still some gratitude is due to such who were willing to oblige me. But +how much more to those from whom I have received the favours which they +have offered to one of a different persuasion; amongst whom I cannot omit +naming the Earls of Derby and of Peterborough. To the first of these I +have not the honour to be known, and therefore his liberality [was] as +much unexpected as it was undeserved. The present Earl of Peterborough +has been pleased long since to accept the tenders of my service: his +favours are so frequent to me that I receive them almost by prescription. +No difference of interests or opinion has been able to withdraw his +protection from me, and I might justly be condemned for the most +unthankful of mankind if I did not always preserve for him a most +profound respect and inviolable gratitude. I must also add that if the +last Æneid shine amongst its fellows, it is owing to the commands of Sir +William Trumbull, one of the principal Secretaries of State, who +recommended it, as his favourite, to my care; and for his sake +particularly I have made it mine. For who would confess weariness when +he enjoined a fresh labour? I could not but invoke the assistance of a +muse for this last office:— + + “_Extremum hunc_, _Arethusa_; . . . + . . . _neget quis carmina Gallo_?” + +Neither am I to forget the noble present which was made me by Gilbert +Dolben, Esq., the worthy son of the late Archbishop of York, who (when I +began this work) enriched me with all the several editions of Virgil and +all the commentaries of those editions in Latin, amongst which I could +not but prefer the Dauphin’s as the last, the shortest, and the most +judicious. Fabrini I had also sent me from Italy, but either he +understands Virgil very imperfectly or I have no knowledge of my author. + +Being invited by that worthy gentleman, Sir William Bowyer, to Denham +Court, I translated the first Georgic at his house and the greatest part +of the last Æneid. A more friendly entertainment no man ever found. No +wonder, therefore, if both these versions surpass the rest; and own the +satisfaction I received in his converse, with whom I had the honour to be +bred in Cambridge, and in the same college. The seventh Æneid was made +English at Burghley, the magnificent abode of the Earl of Exeter. In a +village belonging to his family I was born, and under his roof I +endeavoured to make that Æneid appear in English with as much lustre as I +could, though my author has not given the finishing strokes either to it +or to the eleventh, as I perhaps could prove in both if I durst presume +to criticise my master. + +By a letter from William Walsh, Esq., of Abberley (who has so long +honoured me with his friendship, and who, without flattery, is the best +critic of our nation), I have been informed that his Grace the Duke of +Shrewsbury has procured a printed copy of the Pastorals, Georgics, and +six first Æneids from my bookseller, and has read them in the country +together with my friend. This noble person (having been pleased to give +them a commendation which I presume not to insert) has made me vain +enough to boast of so great a favour, and to think I have succeeded +beyond my hopes; the character of his excellent judgment, the acuteness +of his wit, and his general knowledge of good letters, being known as +well to all the world as the sweetness of his disposition, his humanity, +his easiness of access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of +his protection are known to all who have approached him, and to me in +particular, who have formerly had the honour of his conversation. +Whoever has given the world the translation of part of the third Georgic +(which he calls “The Power of Love”) has put me to sufficient pains to +make my own not inferior to his; as my Lord Roscommon’s “Silenus” had +formerly given me the same trouble. The most ingenious Mr. Addison, of +Oxford, has also been as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the +same account; after his bees my latter swarm is scarcely worth the +hiving. Mr. Cowley’s praise of a country life is excellent, but it is +rather an imitation of Virgil than a version. That I have recovered in +some measure the health which I had lost by too much application to this +work, is owing (next to God’s mercy) to the skill and care of Dr. +Guibbons and Dr. Hobbs (the two ornaments of their profession), whom I +can only pay by this acknowledgment. The whole faculty has always been +ready to oblige me, and the only one of them who endeavoured to defame me +had it not in his power. I desire pardon from my readers for saying so +much in relation to myself which concerns not them; and with my +acknowledgments to all my subscribers, have only to add that the few +notes which follow are _par manière d’acquit_, because I had obliged +myself by articles to do somewhat of that kind. These scattering +observations are rather guesses at my author’s meaning in some passages +than proofs that so he meant. The unlearned may have recourse to any +poetical dictionary in English for the names of persons, places, or +fables, which the learned need not, but that little which I say is either +new or necessary, and the first of these qualifications never fails to +invite a reader, if not to please him. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DISCOURSES ON SATIRE AND ON EPIC +POETRY*** + + +******* This file should be named 2615-0.txt or 2615-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/1/2615 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Discourses on Satire and on Epic Poetry + + +Author: John Dryden + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: September 26, 2014 [eBook #2615] +[This file was first posted on May 21, 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DISCOURSES ON SATIRE AND ON EPIC +POETRY*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1888 Cassell & Company edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY.</span></p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<h1><span class="smcap">Discourses on Satire</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">AND ON</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Epic Poetry</span>.</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br +/> +JOHN DRYDEN.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" + src="images/tps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL & COMPANY, <span +class="smcap">Limited</span>:<br /> +<span class="GutSmall"><i>LONDON</i></span><span +class="GutSmall">, </span><span +class="GutSmall"><i>PARIS</i></span><span class="GutSmall">, +</span><span class="GutSmall"><i>NEW YORK & +MELBOURNE</i></span><span class="GutSmall">.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">1888.</span></p> +<h2>INTRODUCTION.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Dryden’s</span> discourses upon +Satire and Epic Poetry belong to the latter years of his life, +and represent maturer thought than is to be found in his +“Essay of Dramatic Poesie.” That essay, +published in 1667, draws its chief interest from the time when it +was written. A Dutch fleet was at the mouth of the +Thames. Dryden represents himself taking a boat down the +river with three friends, one of them his brother-in-law Sir +Robert Howard, another Sir Charles Sedley, and another Charles +Sackville Lord Buckhurst to whom, as Earl of Dorset, the +“Discourse of Satire” is inscribed. They go +down the river to hear the guns at sea, and judge by the sound +whether the Dutch fleet be advancing or retreating. On the +way they talk of the plague of Odes that will follow an English +victory; their talk of verse proceeds to plays, with particular +attention to a question that had been specially argued before the +public between Dryden and his brother-in-law Sir Robert +Howard. The question touched the use of blank verse in the +drama. Dryden had decided against it as a worthless +measure, and the chief feature of the Essay, which was written in +dialogue, was its support of Dryden’s argument. But +in that year (1667) “Paradise Lost” was published, +and Milton’s blank verse was the death of Dryden’s +theories. After a few years Dryden recanted his +error. The “Essay of Dramatic Poesie” is +interesting as a setting forth in 1667 of mistaken critical +opinions which were at that time in the ascendant, but had not +very long to live. Dryden always wrote good masculine +prose, and all his critical essays are good reading as pieces of +English. His “Essay of Dramatic Poesie” is good +reading as illustrative of the weakness of our literature in the +days of the influence of France after the Restoration. The +essays on Satire and on Epic Poetry represent also the influence +of the French critical school, but represent it in a larger way, +with indications of its strength as well as of its +weakness. They represent also Dryden himself with a riper +mind covering a larger field of thought, and showing abundantly +the strength and independence of his own critical judgment, while +he cites familiarly and frequently the critics, little remembered +and less cared for now, who then passed for the arbiters of +taste.</p> +<p>If English literature were really taught in schools, and the +eldest boys had received training that brought them in their last +school-year to a knowledge of the changes of intellectual fashion +that set their outward mark upon successive periods, there is no +prose writing of Dryden that could be used by a teacher more +instructively than these Discourses on Satire and on Epic +Poetry. They illustrate abundantly both Dryden and his +time, and give continuous occasion for discussion of first +principles, whether in disagreement or agreement with the +text. Dryden was on his own ground as a critic of satire; +and the ideal of an epic that the times, and perhaps also the +different bent of his own genius, would not allow him to work +out, at least finds such expression as might be expected from a +man who had high aspirations, and whose place, in times +unfavourable to his highest aims, was still among the +master-poets of the world.</p> +<p>The Discourse on Satire was prefixed to a translation of the +satires of Juvenal and Persius, and is dated the 18th of August, +1692, when the poet’s age was sixty-one. In +translating Juvenal, Dryden was helped by his sons Charles and +John. William Congreve translated one satire; other +translations were by Nahum Tate and George Stepney. Time +modern reader of the introductory discourse has first to pass +through the unmeasured compliments to the Earl of Dorset, which +represent a real esteem and gratitude in the extravagant terms +then proper to the art of dedication. We get to the free +sea over a slimy shore. We must remember that Charles the +Second upon his death was praised by Charles Montague, who knew +his faults, as “the best good man that ever filled a +throne,” and compared to God Himself at the end of the +first paragraph of Montague’s poem. But when we are +clear of the conventional unmeasured flatteries, and Dryden +lingers among epic poets on his way to the satirists, there is +equal interest in the mistaken criticisms, in the aspirations +that are blended with them, and in the occasional touches of the +poet’s personality in quiet references to his +critics. The comparisons between Horace and Juvenal in this +discourse, and much of the criticism on Virgil in the discourse +on epic poetry, are the utterances of a poet upon poets, and full +of right suggestions from an artist’s mind. The +second discourse was prefixed in 1697—three years before +Dryden’s death—to his translation of the +Æneid.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">H. M.</p> +<h2>A DISCOURSE ON THE ORIGINAL AND PROGRESS OF SATIRE:</h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">ADDRESSED TO +THE RIGHT HONOURABLE</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">CHARLES, EARL OF DORSET AND +MIDDLESEX,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">LORD +CHAMBERLAIN OF HIS MAJESTY’S HOUSEHOLD, KNIGHT OF THE MOST +NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, ETC.</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> wishes and desires of all good +men, which have attended your lordship from your first appearance +in the world, are at length accomplished, from your obtaining +those honours and dignities which you have so long +deserved. There are no factions, though irreconcilable to +one another, that are not united in their affection to you, and +the respect they pay you. They are equally pleased in your +prosperity, and would be equally concerned in your +afflictions. Titus Vespasian was not more the delight of +human kind. The universal empire made him only more known +and more powerful, but could not make him more beloved. He +had greater ability of doing good, but your inclination to it is +not less: and though you could not extend your beneficence to so +many persons, yet you have lost as few days as that excellent +emperor; and never had his complaint to make when you went to +bed, that the sun had shone upon you in vain, when you had the +opportunity of relieving some unhappy man. This, my lord, +has justly acquired you as many friends as there are persons who +have the honour to be known to you. Mere acquaintance you +have none; you have drawn them all into a nearer line; and they +who have conversed with you are for ever after inviolably +yours. This is a truth so generally acknowledged that it +needs no proof: it is of the nature of a first principle, which +is received as soon as it is proposed; and needs not the +reformation which Descartes used to his; for we doubt not, +neither can we properly say, we think we admire and love you +above all other men: there is a certainty in the proposition, and +we know it. With the same assurance I can say, you neither +have enemies, nor can scarce have any; for they who have never +heard of you can neither love or hate you; and they who have, can +have no other notion of you than that which they receive from the +public, that you are the best of men. After this, my +testimony can be of no farther use, than to declare it to be +daylight at high noon: and all who have the benefit of sight can +look up as well and see the sun.</p> +<p>It is true, I have one privilege which is almost particular to +myself, that I saw you in the east at your first arising above +the hemisphere: I was as soon sensible as any man of that light +when it was but just shooting out and beginning to travel upwards +to the meridian. I made my early addresses to your lordship +in my “Essay of Dramatic Poetry,” and therein bespoke +you to the world; wherein I have the right of a first +discoverer. When I was myself in the rudiments of my +poetry, without name or reputation in the world, having rather +the ambition of a writer than the skill; when I was drawing the +outlines of an art, without any living master to instruct me in +it—an art which had been better praised than studied here +in England; wherein Shakespeare, who created the stage among us, +had rather written happily than knowingly and justly; and Jonson, +who, by studying Horace, had been acquainted with the rules, yet +seemed to envy to posterity that knowledge, and, like an inventor +of some useful art, to make a monopoly of his learning—when +thus, as I may say, before the use of the loadstone or knowledge +of the compass, I was sailing in a vast ocean without other help +than the pole-star of the ancients and the rules of the French +stage amongst the moderns (which are extremely different from +ours, by reason of their opposite taste), yet even then I had the +presumption to dedicate to your lordship—a very unfinished +piece, I must confess, and which only can be excused by the +little experience of the author and the modesty of the +title—“An Essay.” Yet I was stronger in +prophecy than I was in criticism: I was inspired to foretell you +to mankind as the restorer of poetry, the greatest genius, the +truest judge, and the best patron.</p> +<p>Good sense and good nature are never separated, though the +ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good nature, by which +I mean beneficence and candour, is the product of right reason; +which of necessity will give allowance to the failings of others +by considering that there is nothing perfect in mankind; and by +distinguishing that which comes nearest to excellency, though not +absolutely free from faults, will certainly produce a candour in +the judge. It is incident to an elevated understanding like +your lordship’s to find out the errors of other men; but it +is your prerogative to pardon them; to look with pleasure on +those things which are somewhat congenial and of a remote kindred +to your own conceptions; and to forgive the many failings of +those who, with their wretched art, cannot arrive to those +heights that you possess from a happy, abundant, and native +genius which are as inborn to you as they were to Shakespeare, +and, for aught I know, to Homer; in either of whom we find all +arts and sciences, all moral and natural philosophy, without +knowing that they ever studied them.</p> +<p>There is not an English writer this day living who is not +perfectly convinced that your lordship excels all others in all +the several parts of poetry which you have undertaken to +adorn. The most vain and the most ambitions of our age have +not dared to assume so much as the competitors of Themistocles: +they have yielded the first place without dispute; and have been +arrogantly content to be esteemed as second to your lordship, and +even that also with a <i>longo</i>, <i>sed proximi +intervallo</i>. If there have been, or are, any who go +farther in their self-conceit, they must be very singular in +their opinion; they must be like the officer in a play who was +called captain, lieutenant, and company. The world will +easily conclude whether such unattended generals can ever be +capable of making a revolution in Parnassus.</p> +<p>I will not attempt in this place to say anything particular of +your lyric poems, though they are the delight and wonder of the +age, and will be the envy of the next. The subject of this +book confines me to satire; and in that an author of your own +quality, whose ashes I will not disturb, has given you all the +commendation which his self-sufficiency could afford to any +man—“The best good man, with the worst-natured +muse.” In that character, methinks, I am reading +Jonson’s verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, +sparing, and invidious panegyric: where good nature—the +most godlike commendation of a man—is only attributed to +your person, and denied to your writings; for they are everywhere +so full of candour, that, like Horace, you only expose the +follies of men without arraigning their vices; and in this excel +him, that you add that pointedness of thought which is visibly +wanting in our great Roman. There is more of salt in all +your verses than I have seen in any of the moderns, or even of +the ancients: but you have been sparing of the gall; by which +means you have pleased all readers and offended none. Donne +alone, of all our countrymen, had your talent, but was not happy +enough to arrive at your versification; and were he translated +into numbers and English, he would yet be wanting in the dignity +of expression. That which is the prime virtue and chief +ornament of Virgil, which distinguishes him from the rest of +writers, is so conspicuous in your verses that it casts a shadow +on all your contemporaries; we cannot be seen, or but obscurely, +while you are present. You equal Donne in the variety, +multiplicity, and choice of thoughts; you excel him in the manner +and the words. I read you both with the same admiration, +but not with the same delight. He affects the metaphysics, +not only in his satires, but in his amorous verses, where Nature +only should reign; and perplexes the minds of the fair sex with +nice speculations of philosophy, when he should engage their +hearts and entertain them with the softnesses of love. In +this (if I may be pardoned for so bold a truth) Mr. Cowley has +copied him to a fault: so great a one, in my opinion, that it +throws his “Mistress” infinitely below his +“Pindarics” and his later compositions, which are +undoubtedly the best of his poems and the most correct. For +my own part I must avow it freely to the world that I never +attempted anything in satire wherein I have not studied your +writings as the most perfect model. I have continually laid +them before me; and the greatest commendation which my own +partiality can give to my productions is that they are copies, +and no farther to be allowed than as they have something more or +less of the original. Some few touches of your lordship, +some secret graces which I have endeavoured to express after your +manner, have made whole poems of mine to pass with approbation: +but take your verses all together, and they are inimitable. +If, therefore, I have not written better, it is because you have +not written more. You have not set me sufficient copy to +transcribe; and I cannot add one letter of my own invention of +which I have not the example there.</p> +<p>It is a general complaint against your lordship, and I must +have leave to upbraid you with it, that, because you need not +write, you will not. Mankind that wishes you so well in all +things that relate to your prosperity, have their intervals of +wishing for themselves, and are within a little of grudging you +the fulness of your fortune: they would be more malicious if you +used it not so well and with so much generosity.</p> +<p>Fame is in itself a real good, if we may believe Cicero, who +was perhaps too fond of it; but even fame, as Virgil tells us, +acquires strength by going forward. Let Epicurus give +indolency as an attribute to his gods, and place in it the +happiness of the blest: the Divinity which we worship has given +us not only a precept against it, but His own example to the +contrary. The world, my lord, would be content to allow you +a seventh day for rest; or, if you thought that hard upon you, we +would not refuse you half your time: if you came out, like some +great monarch, to take a town but once a year, as it were for +your diversion, though you had no need to extend your +territories. In short, if you were a bad, or, which is +worse, an indifferent poet, we would thank you for our own quiet, +and not expose you to the want of yours. But when you are +so great, and so successful, and when we have that necessity of +your writing that we cannot subsist entirely without it, any more +(I may almost say) than the world without the daily course of +ordinary Providence, methinks this argument might prevail with +you, my lord, to forego a little of your repose for the public +benefit. It is not that you are under any force of working +daily miracles to prove your being, but now and then somewhat of +extraordinary—that is, anything of your production—is +requisite to refresh your character.</p> +<p>This, I think, my lord, is a sufficient reproach to you, and +should I carry it as far as mankind would authorise me, would be +little less than satire. And indeed a provocation is almost +necessary, in behalf of the world, that you might be induced +sometimes to write; and in relation to a multitude of scribblers, +who daily pester the world with their insufferable stuff, that +they might be discouraged from writing any more. I complain +not of their lampoons and libels, though I have been the public +mark for many years. I am vindictive enough to have +repelled force by force if I could imagine that any of them had +ever reached me: but they either shot at rovers, and therefore +missed; or their powder was so weak that I might safely stand +them at the nearest distance. I answered not the +“Rehearsal” because I knew the author sat to himself +when he drew the picture, and was the very Bayes of his own +farce; because also I knew that my betters were more concerned +than I was in that satire; and, lastly, because Mr. Smith and Mr. +Johnson, the main pillars of it, were two such languishing +gentlemen in their conversation that I could liken them to +nothing but to their own relations, those noble characters of men +of wit and pleasure about the town. The like considerations +have hindered me from dealing with the lamentable companions of +their prose and doggerel. I am so far from defending my +poetry against them that I will not so much as expose +theirs. And for my morals, if they are not proof against +their attacks, let me be thought by posterity what those authors +would be thought if any memory of them or of their writings could +endure so long as to another age. But these dull makers of +lampoons, as harmless as they have been to me, are yet of +dangerous example to the public. Some witty men may perhaps +succeed to their designs, and, mixing sense with malice, blast +the reputation of the most innocent amongst men, and the most +virtuous amongst women.</p> +<p>Heaven be praised, our common libellers are as free from the +imputation of wit as of morality, and therefore whatever mischief +they have designed they have performed but little of it. +Yet these ill writers, in all justice, ought themselves to be +exposed, as Persius has given us a fair example in his first +Satire, which is levelled particularly at them; and none is so +fit to correct their faults as he who is not only clear from any +in his own writings, but is also so just that he will never +defame the good, and is armed with the power of verse to punish +and make examples of the bad. But of this I shall have +occasion to speak further when I come to give the definition and +character of true satires.</p> +<p>In the meantime, as a counsellor bred up in the knowledge of +the municipal and statute laws may honestly inform a just prince +how far his prerogative extends, so I may be allowed to tell your +lordship, who by an undisputed title are the king of poets, what +an extent of power you have, and how lawfully you may exercise it +over the petulant scribblers of this age. As Lord +Chamberlain, I know, you are absolute by your office in all that +belongs to the decency and good manners of the stage. You +can banish from thence scurrility and profaneness, and restrain +the licentious insolence of poets and their actors in all things +that shock the public quiet, or the reputation of private +persons, under the notion of humour. But I mean not the +authority which is annexed to your office, I speak of that only +which is inborn and inherent to your person; what is produced in +you by an excellent wit, a masterly and commanding genius over +all writers: whereby you are empowered, when you please, to give +the final decision of wit, to put your stamp on all that ought to +pass for current and set a brand of reprobation on clipped poetry +and false coin. A shilling dipped in the bath may go for +gold amongst the ignorant, but the sceptres on the guineas show +the difference. That your lordship is formed by nature for +this supremacy I could easily prove (were it not already granted +by the world) from the distinguishing character of your writing, +which is so visible to me that I never could be imposed on to +receive for yours what was written by any others, or to mistake +your genuine poetry for their spurious productions. I can +farther add with truth, though not without some vanity in saying +it, that in the same paper written by divers hands, whereof your +lordship’s was only part, I could separate your gold from +their copper; and though I could not give back to every author +his own brass (for there is not the same rule for distinguishing +betwixt bad and bad as betwixt ill and excellently good), yet I +never failed of knowing what was yours and what was not, and was +absolutely certain that this or the other part was positively +yours, and could not possibly be written by any other.</p> +<p>True it is that some bad poems, though not all, carry their +owners’ marks about them. There is some peculiar +awkwardness, false grammar, imperfect sense, or, at the least, +obscurity; some brand or other on this buttock or that ear that +it is notorious who are the owners of the cattle, though they +should not sign it with their names. But your lordship, on +the contrary, is distinguished not only by the excellency of your +thoughts, but by your style and manner of expressing them. +A painter judging of some admirable piece may affirm with +certainty that it was of Holbein or Vandyck; but vulgar designs +and common draughts are easily mistaken and misapplied. +Thus, by my long study of your lordship, I am arrived at the +knowledge of your particular manner. In the good poems of +other men, like those artists, I can only say, “This is +like the draught of such a one, or like the colouring of +another;” in short, I can only be sure that it is the hand +of a good master: but in your performances it is scarcely +possible for me to be deceived. If you write in your +strength, you stand revealed at the first view, and should you +write under it, you cannot avoid some peculiar graces which only +cost me a second consideration to discover you: for I may say it +with all the severity of truth, that every line of yours is +precious. Your lordship’s only fault is that you have +not written more, unless I could add another, and that yet +greater, but I fear for the public the accusation would not be +true—that you have written, and out of a vicious modesty +will not publish.</p> +<p>Virgil has confined his works within the compass of eighteen +thousand lines, and has not treated many subjects, yet he ever +had, and ever will have, the reputation of the best poet. +Martial says of him that he could have excelled Varius in tragedy +and Horace in lyric poetry, but out of deference to his friends +he attempted neither.</p> +<p>The same prevalence of genius is in your lordship, but the +world cannot pardon your concealing it on the same consideration, +because we have neither a living Varius nor a Horace, in whose +excellences both of poems, odes, and satires, you had equalled +them, if our language had not yielded to the Roman majesty, and +length of time had not added a reverence to the works of +Horace. For good sense is the same in all or most ages, and +course of time rather improves nature than impairs her. +What has been, may be again; another Homer and another Virgil may +possible arise from those very causes which produced the first, +though it would be impudence to affirm that any such have yet +appeared.</p> +<p>It is manifest that some particular ages have been more happy +than others in the production of great men in all sorts of arts +and sciences, as that of Euripides, Sophocles, Aristophanes, and +the rest, for stage-poetry amongst the Greeks; that of Augustus +for heroic, lyric, dramatic, elegiac, and indeed all sorts of +poetry in the persons of Virgil, Horace, Varius, Ovid, and many +others, especially if we take into that century the latter end of +the commonwealth, wherein we find Varro, Lucretius, and Catullus; +and at the same time lived Cicero and Sallust and +Cæsar. A famous age in modern times for learning in +every kind was that of Lorenzo de Medici and his son Leo the +Tenth, wherein painting was revived, and poetry flourished, and +the Greek language was restored.</p> +<p>Examples in all these are obvious, but what I would infer is +this—that in such an age it is possible some great genius +may arise to equal any of the ancients, abating only for the +language; for great contemporaries whet and cultivate each other, +and mutual borrowing and commerce makes the common riches of +learning, as it does of the civil government.</p> +<p>But suppose that Homer and Virgil were the only of their +species, and that nature was so much worn out in producing them +that she is never able to hear the like again, yet the example +only holds in heroic poetry; in tragedy and satire I offer myself +to maintain, against some of our modern critics, that this age +and the last, particularly in England, have excelled the ancients +in both those kinds, and I would instance in Shakespeare of the +former, of your lordship in the latter sort.</p> +<p>Thus I might safely confine myself to my native country. +But if I would only cross the seas, I might find in France a +living Horace and a Juvenal in the person of the admirable +Boileau, whose numbers are excellent, whose expressions are +noble, whose thoughts are just, whose language is pure, whose +satire is pointed and whose sense is close. What he borrows +from the ancients, he repays with usury of his own in coin as +good and almost as universally valuable: for, setting prejudice +and partiality apart, though he is our enemy, the stamp of a +Louis, the patron of all arts, is not much inferior to the medal +of an Augustus Cæsar. Let this be said without +entering into the interests of factions and parties, and relating +only to the bounty of that king to men of learning and +merit—a praise so just that even we, who are his enemies, +cannot refuse it to him.</p> +<p>Now if it may be permitted me to go back again to the +consideration of epic poetry, I have confessed that no man +hitherto has reached or so much as approached to the excellences +of Homer or of Virgil; I must farther add that Statius, the best +versificator next to Virgil, knew not how to design after him, +though he had the model in his eye; that Lucan is wanting both in +design and subject, and is besides too full of heat and +affectation; that amongst the moderns, Ariosto neither designed +justly nor observed any unity of action, or compass of time, or +moderation in the vastness of his draught: his style is luxurious +without majesty or decency, and his adventures without the +compass of nature and possibility. Tasso, whose design was +regular, and who observed the roles of unity in time and place +more closely than Virgil, yet was not so happy in his action: he +confesses himself to have been too lyrical—that is, to have +written beneath the dignity of heroic verse—in his episodes +of Sophronia, Erminia, and Armida. His story is not so +pleasing as Ariosto’s; he is too flatulent sometimes, and +sometimes too dry; many times unequal, and almost always forced; +and, besides, is full of conceits, points of epigram, and +witticisms; all which are not only below the dignity of heroic +verse, but contrary to its nature: Virgil and Homer have not one +of them. And those who are guilty of so boyish an ambition +in so grave a subject are so far from being considered as heroic +poets that they ought to be turned down from Homer to the +“Anthologia,” from Virgil to Martial and Owen’s +Epigrams, and from Spenser to Flecknoe—that is, from the +top to the bottom of all poetry. But to return to Tasso: he +borrows from the invention of Boiardo, and in his alteration of +his poem, which is infinitely for the worse, imitates Homer so +very servilely that (for example) he gives the King of Jerusalem +fifty sons, only because Homer had bestowed the like number on +King Priam; he kills the youngest in the same manner; and has +provided his hero with a Patroclus, under another name, only to +bring him back to the wars when his friend was killed. The +French have performed nothing in this kind which is not far below +those two Italians, and subject to a thousand more reflections, +without examining their “St. Louis,” their +“Pucelle,” or their “Alaric.” The +English have only to boast of Spenser and Milton, who neither of +them wanted either genius or learning to have been perfect poets; +and yet both of them are liable to many censures. For there +is no uniformity in the design of Spenser; he aims at the +accomplishment of no one action; he raises up a hero for every +one of his adventures, and endows each of them with some +particular moral virtue, which renders them all equal, without +subordination or preference: every one is most valiant in his own +legend: only we must do him that justice to observe that +magnanimity, which is the character of Prince Arthur, shines +throughout the whole poem, and succours the rest when they are in +distress. The original of every knight was then living in +the court of Queen Elizabeth, and he attributed to each of them +that virtue which he thought was most conspicuous in +them—an ingenious piece of flattery, though it turned not +much to his account. Had he lived to finish his poem in the +six remaining legends, it had certainly been more of a piece; but +could not have been perfect, because the model was not +true. But Prince Arthur, or his chief patron Sir Philip +Sidney, whom he intended to make happy by the marriage of his +Gloriana, dying before him, deprived the poet both of means and +spirit to accomplish his design. For the rest, his obsolete +language and the ill choice of his stanza are faults but of the +second magnitude; for, notwithstanding the first, he is still +intelligible—at least, after a little practice; and for the +last, he is the more to be admired that, labouring under such a +difficulty, his verses are so numerous, so various and so +harmonious, that only Virgil, whom he professedly imitated, has +surpassed him among the Romans, and only Mr. Waller among the +English.</p> +<p>As for Mr. Milton, whom we all admire with so much justice, +his subject is not that of an heroic poem, properly so +called. His design is the losing of our happiness; his +event is not prosperous, like that of all other epic works; his +heavenly machines are many, and his human persons are but +two. But I will not take Mr. Rymer’s work out of his +hands: he has promised the world a critique on that author +wherein, though he will not allow his poem for heroic, I hope he +will grant us that his thoughts are elevated, his words sounding, +and that no man has so happily copied the manner of Homer, or so +copiously translated his Grecisms and the Latin elegances of +Virgil. It is true, he runs into a flat of thought, +sometimes for a hundred lines together, but it is when he has got +into a track of Scripture. His antiquated words were his +choice, not his necessity; for therein he imitated Spenser, as +Spencer did Chaucer. And though, perhaps, the love of their +masters may have transported both too far in the frequent use of +them, yet in my opinion obsolete words may then be laudably +revived when either they are more sounding or more significant +than those in practice, and when their obscurity is taken away by +joining other words to them which clear the sense—according +to the rule of Horace for the admission of new words. But +in both cases a moderation is to be observed in the use of them; +for unnecessary coinage, as well as unnecessary revival, runs +into affectation—a fault to be avoided on either +hand. Neither will I justify Milton for his blank verse, +though I may excuse him by the example of Hannibal Caro and other +Italians who have used it; for, whatever causes he alleges for +the abolishing of rhyme (which I have not now the leisure to +examine), his own particular reason is plainly this—that +rhyme was not his talent; he had neither the ease of doing it, +nor the graces of it: which is manifest in his +“Juvenilia” or verses written in his youth, where his +rhyme is always constrained and forced, and comes hardly from +him, at an age when the soul is most pliant, and the passion of +love makes almost every man a rhymer, though not a poet.</p> +<p>By this time, my lord, I doubt not but that you wonder why I +have run off from my bias so long together, and made so tedious a +digression from satire to heroic poetry; but if you will not +excuse it by the tattling quality of age (which, as Sir William +Davenant says, is always narrative), yet I hope the usefulness of +what I have to say on this subject will qualify the remoteness of +it; and this is the last time I will commit the crime of +prefaces, or trouble the world with my notions of anything that +relates to verse. I have then, as you see, observed the +failings of many great wits amongst the moderns who have +attempted to write an epic poem. Besides these, or the like +animadversions of them by other men, there is yet a farther +reason given why they cannot possibly succeed so well as the +ancients, even though we could allow them not to be inferior +either in genius or learning, or the tongue in which they write, +or all those other wonderful qualifications which are necessary +to the forming of a true accomplished heroic poet. The +fault is laid on our religion; they say that Christianity is not +capable of those embellishments which are afforded in the belief +of those ancient heathens.</p> +<p>And it is true that in the severe notions of our faith the +fortitude of a Christian consists in patience, and suffering for +the love of God whatever hardships can befall in the +world—not in any great attempt, or in performance of those +enterprises which the poets call heroic, and which are commonly +the effects of interest, ostentation, pride, and worldly honour; +that humility and resignation are our prime virtues; and that +these include no action but that of the soul, whereas, on the +contrary, an heroic poem requires to its necessary design, and as +its last perfection, some great action of war, the accomplishment +of some extraordinary undertaking, which requires the strength +and vigour of the body, the duty of a soldier, the capacity and +prudence of a general, and, in short, as much or more of the +active virtue than the suffering. But to this the answer is +very obvious. God has placed us in our several stations; +the virtues of a private Christian are patience, obedience, +submission, and the like; but those of a magistrate or a general +or a king are prudence, counsel, active fortitude, coercive +power, awful command, and the exercise of magnanimity as well as +justice. So that this objection hinders not but that an +epic poem, or the heroic action of some great commander, +enterprised for the common good and honour of the Christian +cause, and executed happily, may be as well written now as it was +of old by the heathens, provided the poet be endued with the same +talents; and the language, though not of equal dignity, yet as +near approaching to it as our modern barbarism will +allow—which is all that can be expected from our own or any +other now extant, though more refined; and therefore we are to +rest contented with that only inferiority, which is not possibly +to be remedied.</p> +<p>I wish I could as easily remove that other difficulty which +yet remains. It is objected by a great French critic as +well as an admirable poet, yet living, and whom I have mentioned +with that honour which his merit exacts from me (I mean, +Boileau), that the machines of our Christian religion in heroic +poetry are much more feeble to support that weight than those of +heathenism. Their doctrine, grounded as it was on +ridiculous fables, was yet the belief of the two victorious +monarchies, the Grecian and Roman. Their gods did not only +interest themselves in the event of wars (which is the effect of +a superior Providence), but also espoused the several parties in +a visible corporeal descent, managed their intrigues and fought +their battles, sometimes in opposition to each other; though +Virgil (more discreet than Homer in that last particular) has +contented himself with the partiality of his deities, their +favours, their counsels or commands, to those whose cause they +had espoused, without bringing them to the outrageousness of +blows. Now our religion, says he, is deprived of the +greatest part of those machines—at least, the most shining +in epic poetry. Though St. Michael in Ariosto seeks out +Discord to send her amongst the Pagans, and finds her in a +convent of friars, where peace should reign (which indeed is fine +satire); and Satan in Tasso excites Soliman to an attempt by +night on the Christian camp, and brings a host of devils to his +assistance; yet the Archangel in the former example, when Discord +was restive and would not be drawn from her beloved monastery +with fair words, has the whip-hand of her, drags her out with +many stripes, sets her on God’s name about her business, +and makes her know the difference of strength betwixt a nuncio of +heaven and a minister of hell. The same angel in the latter +instance from Tasso (as if God had never another messenger +belonging to the court, but was confined, like Jupiter to +Mercury, and Juno to Iris), when he sees his time—that is, +when half of the Christians are already killed, and all the rest +are in a fair way to be routed—stickles betwixt the +remainders of God’s host and the race of fiends, pulls the +devils backward by the tails, and drives them from their quarry; +or otherwise the whole business had miscarried, and Jerusalem +remained untaken. This, says Boileau, is a very unequal +match for the poor devils, who are sure to come by the worst of +it in the combat; for nothing is more easy than for an Almighty +Power to bring His old rebels to reason when He pleases. +Consequently what pleasure, what entertainment, can be raised +from so pitiful a machine, where we see the success of the battle +from the very beginning of it? unless that as we are Christians, +we are glad that we have gotten God on our side to maul our +enemies when we cannot do the work ourselves. For if the +poet had given the faithful more courage, which had cost him +nothing, or at least have made them exceed the Turks in number, +he might have gained the victory for us Christians without +interesting Heaven in the quarrel, and that with as much ease and +as little credit to the conqueror as when a party of a hundred +soldiers defeats another which consists only of fifty.</p> +<p>This, my lord, I confess is such an argument against our +modern poetry as cannot be answered by those mediums which have +been used. We cannot hitherto boast that our religion has +furnished us with any such machines as have made the strength and +beauty of the ancient buildings.</p> +<p>But what if I venture to advance an invention of my own to +supply the manifest defect of our new writers? I am +sufficiently sensible of my weakness, and it is not very probable +that I should succeed in such a project, whereof I have not had +the least hint from any of my predecessors the poets, or any of +their seconds or coadjutors the critics. Yet we see the art +of war is improved in sieges, and new instruments of death are +invented daily. Something new in philosophy and the +mechanics is discovered almost every year, and the science of +former ages is improved by the succeeding. I will not +detain you with a long preamble to that which better judges will, +perhaps, conclude to be little worth.</p> +<p>It is this, in short—that Christian poets have not +hitherto been acquainted with their own strength. If they +had searched the Old Testament as they ought, they might there +have found the machines which are proper for their work, and +those more certain in their effect than it may be the New +Testament is in the rules sufficient for salvation. The +perusing of one chapter in the prophecy of Daniel, and +accommodating what there they find with the principles of +Platonic philosophy as it is now Christianised, would have made +the ministry of angels as strong an engine for the working up +heroic poetry in our religion as that of the ancients has been to +raise theirs by all the fables of their gods, which were only +received for truths by the most ignorant and weakest of the +people.</p> +<p>It is a doctrine almost universally received by Christians, as +well Protestants as Catholics, that there are guardian angels +appointed by God Almighty as His vicegerents for the protection +and government of cities, provinces, kingdoms, and monarchies; +and those as well of heathens as of true believers. All +this is so plainly proved from those texts of Daniel that it +admits of no farther controversy. The prince of the +Persians, and that other of the Grecians, are granted to be the +guardians and protecting ministers of those empires. It +cannot be denied that they were opposite and resisted one +another. St. Michael is mentioned by his name as the patron +of the Jews, and is now taken by the Christians as the +protector-general of our religion. These tutelar genii, who +presided over the several people and regions committed to their +charge, were watchful over them for good, as far as their +commissions could possibly extend. The general purpose and +design of all was certainly the service of their great +Creator. But it is an undoubted truth that, for ends best +known to the Almighty Majesty of Heaven, His providential designs +for the benefit of His creatures, for the debasing and punishing +of some nations, and the exaltation and temporal reward of +others, were not wholly known to these His ministers; else why +those factious quarrels, controversies, and battles amongst +themselves, when they were all united in the same design, the +service and honour of their common master? But being +instructed only in the general, and zealous of the main design, +and as finite beings not admitted into the secrets of government, +the last resorts of Providence, or capable of discovering the +final purposes of God (who can work good out of evil as He +pleases, and irresistibly sways all manner of events on earth, +directing them finally for the best to His creation in general, +and to the ultimate end of His own glory in particular), they +must of necessity be sometimes ignorant of the means conducing to +those ends, in which alone they can jar and oppose each +other—one angel, as we may suppose (the Prince of Persia, +as he is called), judging that it would be more for God’s +honour and the benefit of His people that the Median and Persian +monarchy, which delivered them from the Babylonish captivity, +should still be uppermost; and the patron of the Grecians, to +whom the will of God might be more particularly revealed, +contending on the other side for the rise of Alexander and his +successors, who were appointed to punish the backsliding Jews, +and thereby to put them in mind of their offences, that they +might repent and become more virtuous and more observant of the +law revealed. But how far these controversies and appearing +enmities of those glorious creatures may be carried; how these +oppositions may be best managed, and by what means conducted, is +not my business to show or determine: these things must be left +to the invention and judgment of the poet, if any of so happy a +genius be now living, or any future age can produce a man who, +being conversant in the philosophy of Plato as it is now +accommodated to Christian use (for, as Virgil gives us to +understand by his example, that is the only proper, of all +others, for an epic poem), who to his natural endowments of a +large invention, a ripe judgment, and a strong memory, has joined +the knowledge of the liberal arts and sciences (and particularly +moral philosophy, the mathematics, geography, and history), and +with all these qualifications is born a poet, knows, and can +practise the variety of numbers, and is master of the language in +which he writes—if such a man, I say, be now arisen, or +shall arise, I am vain enough to think that I have proposed a +model to him by which he may build a nobler, a more beautiful, +and more perfect poem than any yet extant since the ancients.</p> +<p>There is another part of these machines yet wanting; but by +what I have said, it would have been easily supplied by a +judicious writer. He could not have failed to add the +opposition of ill spirits to the good; they have also their +design, ever opposite to that of Heaven; and this alone has +hitherto been the practice of the moderns: but this imperfect +system, if I may call it such, which I have given, will +infinitely advance and carry farther that hypothesis of the evil +spirits contending with the good. For being so much weaker +since their fall than those blessed beings, they are yet supposed +to have a permitted power from God of acting ill, as from their +own depraved nature they have always the will of designing +it—a great testimony of which we find in Holy Writ, when +God Almighty suffered Satan to appear in the holy synod of the +angels (a thing not hitherto drawn into example by any of the +poets), and also gave him power over all things belonging to his +servant Job, excepting only life.</p> +<p>Now what these wicked spirits cannot compass by the vast +disproportion of their forces to those of the superior beings, +they may by their fraud and cunning carry farther in a seeming +league, confederacy, or subserviency to the designs of some good +angel, as far as consists with his purity to suffer such an aid, +the end of which may possibly be disguised and concealed from his +finite knowledge. This is indeed to suppose a great error +in such a being; yet since a devil can appear like an angel of +light, since craft and malice may sometimes blind for a while a +more perfect understanding; and lastly, since Milton has given us +an example of the like nature, when Satan, appearing like a +cherub to Uriel, the intelligence of the sun, circumvented him +even in his own province, and passed only for a curious traveller +through those new-created regions, that he might observe therein +the workmanship of God and praise Him in His works—I know +not why, upon the same supposition, or some other, a fiend may +not deceive a creature of more excellency than himself, but yet a +creature; at least, by the connivance or tacit permission of the +Omniscient Being.</p> +<p>Thus, my lord, I have, as briefly as I could, given your +lordship, and by you the world, a rude draught of what I have +been long labouring in my imagination, and what I had intended to +have put in practice (though far unable for the attempt of such a +poem), and to have left the stage, to which my genius never much +inclined me, for a work which would have taken up my life in the +performance of it. This, too, I had intended chiefly for +the honour of my native country, to which a poet is particularly +obliged. Of two subjects, both relating to it, I was +doubtful—whether I should choose that of King Arthur +conquering the Saxons (which, being farther distant in time, +gives the greater scope to my invention), or that of Edward the +Black Prince in subduing Spain and restoring it to the lawful +prince, though a great tyrant, Don Pedro the Cruel—which +for the compass of time, including only the expedition of one +year; for the greatness of the action, and its answerable event; +for the magnanimity of the English hero, opposed to the +ingratitude of the person whom he restored; and for the many +beautiful episodes which I had interwoven with the principal +design, together with the characters of the chiefest English +persons (wherein, after Virgil and Spenser, I would have taken +occasion to represent my living friends and patrons of the +noblest families, and also shadowed the events of future ages in +the succession of our imperial line)—with these helps, and +those of the machines which I have mentioned, I might perhaps +have done as well as some of my predecessors, or at least chalked +out a way for others to amend my errors in a like design; but +being encouraged only with fair words by King Charles the Second, +my little salary ill paid, and no prospect of a future +subsistence, I was then discouraged in the beginning of my +attempt; and now age has overtaken me, and want (a more +insufferable evil) through the change of the times has wholly +disenabled me; though I must ever acknowledge, to the honour of +your lordship, and the eternal memory of your charity, that since +this Revolution, wherein I have patiently suffered the ruin of my +small fortune, and the loss of that poor subsistence which I had +from two kings, whom I had served more faithfully than profitably +to myself—then your lordship was pleased, out of no other +motive but your own nobleness, without any desert of mine, or the +least solicitation from me, to make me a most bountiful present, +which at that time, when I was most in want of it, came most +seasonably and unexpectedly to my relief. That favour, my +lord, is of itself sufficient to bind any grateful man to a +perpetual acknowledgment, and to all the future service which one +of my mean condition can be ever able to perform. May the +Almighty God return it for me, both in blessing you here and +rewarding you hereafter! I must not presume to defend the +cause for which I now suffer, because your lordship is engaged +against it; but the more you are so, the greater is my obligation +to you for your laying aside all the considerations of factions +and parties to do an action of pure disinterested charity. +This is one amongst many of your shining qualities which +distinguish you from others of your rank. But let me add a +farther truth—that without these ties of gratitude, and +abstracting from them all, I have a most particular inclination +to honour you, and, if it were not too bold an expression, to say +I love you. It is no shame to be a poet, though it is to be +a bad one. Augustus Cæsar of old, and Cardinal +Richelieu of late, would willingly have been such; and David and +Solomon were such. You who, without flattery, are the best +of the present age in England, and would have been so had you +been born in any other country, will receive more honour in +future ages by that one excellency than by all those honours to +which your birth has entitled you, or your merits have acquired +you.</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Ne +fortè pudori</i><br /> +<i>Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers</i>, <i>et cantor +Apollo</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I have formerly said in this epistle that I could distinguish +your writings from those of any others; it is now time to clear +myself from any imputation of self-conceit on that subject. +I assume not to myself any particular lights in this discovery; +they are such only as are obvious to every man of sense and +judgment who loves poetry and understands it. Your thoughts +are always so remote from the common way of thinking that they +are, as I may say, of another species than the conceptions of +other poets; yet you go not out of nature for any of them. +Gold is never bred upon the surface of the ground, but lies so +hidden and so deep that the mines of it are seldom found; but the +force of waters casts it out from the bowels of mountains, and +exposes it amongst the sands of rivers, giving us of her bounty +what we could not hope for by our search. This success +attends your lordship’s thoughts, which would look like +chance if it were not perpetual and always of the same +tenor. If I grant that there is care in it, it is such a +care as would be ineffectual and fruitless in other men; it is +the <i>curiosa felicitas</i> which Petronius ascribes to Horace +in his odes. We have not wherewithal to imagine so +strongly, so justly, and so pleasantly: in short, if we have the +same knowledge, we cannot draw out of it the same quintessence; +we cannot give it such a turn, such a propriety, and such a +beauty. Something is deficient in the manner or the words, +but more in the nobleness of our conception. Yet when you +have finished all, and it appears in its full lustre; when the +diamond is not only found, but the roughness smoothed; when it is +cut into a form and set in gold, then we cannot but acknowledge +that it is the perfect work of art and nature; and every one will +be so vain to think he himself could have performed the like +until he attempts it. It is just the description that +Horace makes of such a finished piece; it appears so easy,</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Ut +sibi quivis</i><br /> +<i>Speret idem</i>, <i>sudet multum</i>, <i>frustraque +laboret</i>,<br /> +<i>Ausus idem</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And besides all this, it is your lordship’s particular +talent to lay your thoughts so chose together that, were they +closer, they would be crowded, and even a due connection would be +wanting. We are not kept in expectation of two good lines +which are to come after a long parenthesis of twenty bad; which +is the April poetry of other writers, a mixture of rain and +sunshine by fits: you are always bright, even almost to a fault, +by reason of the excess. There is continual abundance, a +magazine of thought, and yet a perpetual variety of +entertainment; which creates such an appetite in your reader that +he is not cloyed with anything, but satisfied with all. It +is that which the Romans call <i>cæna dubia</i>; where +there is such plenty, yet withal so much diversity, and so good +order, that the choice is difficult betwixt one excellency and +another; and yet the conclusion, by a due climax, is evermore the +best—that is, as a conclusion ought to be, ever the most +proper for its place. See, my lord, whether I have not +studied your lordship with some application: and since you are so +modest that you will not be judge and party, I appeal to the +whole world if I have not drawn your picture to a great degree of +likeness, though it is but in miniature, and that some of the +best features are yet wanting. Yet what I have done is +enough to distinguish you from any other, which is the +proposition that I took upon me to demonstrate.</p> +<p>And now, my lord, to apply what I have said to my present +business: the satires of Juvenal and Persius, appearing in this +new English dress, cannot so properly be inscribed to any man as +to your lordship, who are the first of the age in that way of +writing. Your lordship, amongst many other favours, has +given me your permission for this address; and you have +particularly encouraged me by your perusal and approbation of the +sixth and tenth satires of Juvenal as I have translated +them. My fellow-labourers have likewise commissioned me to +perform in their behalf this office of a dedication to you, and +will acknowledge, with all possible respect and gratitude, your +acceptance of their work. Some of them have the honour to +be known to your lordship already; and they who have not yet that +happiness, desire it now. Be pleased to receive our common +endeavours with your wonted candour, without entitling you to the +protection of our common failings in so difficult an +undertaking. And allow me your patience, if it be not +already tired with this long epistle, to give you from the best +authors the origin, the antiquity, the growth, the change, and +the completement of satire among the Romans; to describe, if not +define, the nature of that poem, with its several qualifications +and virtues, together with the several sorts of it; to compare +the excellencies of Horace, Persius, and Juvenal, and show the +particular manners of their satires; and, lastly, to give an +account of this new way of version which is attempted in our +performance: all which, according to the weakness of my ability, +and the best lights which I can get from others, shall be the +subject of my following discourse.</p> +<p>The most perfect work of poetry, says our master Aristotle, is +tragedy. His reason is because it is the most united; being +more severely confined within the rules of action, time, and +place. The action is entire of a piece, and one without +episodes; the time limited to a natural day; and the place +circumscribed at least within the compass of one town or +city. Being exactly proportioned thus, and uniform in all +its parts, the mind is more capable of comprehending the whole +beauty of it without distraction.</p> +<p>But after all these advantages an heroic poem is certainly the +greatest work of human nature. The beauties and perfections +of the other are but mechanical; those of the epic are more +noble. Though Homer has limited his place to Troy and the +fields about it; his actions to forty-eight natural days, whereof +twelve are holidays, or cessation from business during the +funeral of Patroclus. To proceed: the action of the epic is +greater; the extension of time enlarges the pleasure of the +reader, and the episodes give it more ornament and more +variety. The instruction is equal; but the first is only +instructive, the latter forms a hero and a prince.</p> +<p>If it signifies anything which of them is of the more ancient +family, the best and most absolute heroic poem was written by +Homer long before tragedy was invented. But if we consider +the natural endowments and acquired parts which are necessary to +make an accomplished writer in either kind, tragedy requires a +less and more confined knowledge; moderate learning and +observation of the rules is sufficient if a genius be not +wanting. But in an epic poet, one who is worthy of that +name, besides an universal genius is required universal learning, +together with all those qualities and acquisitions which I have +named above, and as many more as I have through haste or +negligence omitted. And, after all, he must have exactly +studied Homer and Virgil as his patterns, Aristotle and Horace as +his guides, and Vida and Bossu as their commentators, with many +others (both Italian and French critics) which I want leisure +here to recommend.</p> +<p>In a word, what I have to say in relation to this subject, +which does not particularly concern satire, is that the greatness +of an heroic poem beyond that of a tragedy may easily be +discovered by observing how few have attempted that work, in +comparison to those who have written dramas; and of those few, +how small a number have succeeded. But leaving the critics +on either side to contend about the preference due to this or +that sort of poetry, I will hasten to my present business, which +is the antiquity and origin of satire, according to those +informations which I have received from the learned Casaubon, +Heinsius, Rigaltius, Dacier, and the Dauphin’s Juvenal, to +which I shall add some observations of my own.</p> +<p>There has been a long dispute among the modern critics whether +the Romans derived their satire from the Grecians or first +invented it themselves. Julius Scaliger and Heinsius are of +the first opinion; Casaubon, Rigaltius, Dacier, and the publisher +of Dauphin’s Juvenal maintain the latter. If we take +satire in the general signification of the word, as it is used in +all modern languages, for an invective, it is certain that it is +almost as old as verse; and though hymns, which are praises of +God, may be allowed to have been before it, yet the defamation of +others was not long after it. After God had cursed Adam and +Eve in Paradise, the husband and wife excused themselves by +laying the blame on one another, and gave a beginning to those +conjugal dialogues in prose which the poets have perfected in +verse. The third chapter of Job is one of the first +instances of this poem in Holy Scripture, unless we will take it +higher, from the latter end of the second, where his wife advises +him to curse his Maker.</p> +<p>This original, I confess, is not much to the honour of satire; +but here it was nature, and that depraved: when it became an art, +it bore better fruit. Only we have learnt thus much +already—that scoffs and revilings are of the growth of all +nations; and consequently that neither the Greek poets borrowed +from other people their art of railing, neither needed the Romans +to take it from them. But considering satire as a species +of poetry, here the war begins amongst the critics. +Scaliger, the father, will have it descend from Greece to Rome; +and derives the word “satire” from Satyrus, that +mixed kind of animal (or, as the ancients thought him, rural god) +made up betwixt a man and a goat, with a human head, hooked nose, +pouting lips, a bunch or struma under the chin, pricked ears, and +upright horns; the body shagged with hair, especially from the +waist, and ending in a goat, with the legs and feet of that +creature. But Casaubon and his followers, with reason, +condemn this derivation, and prove that from Satyrus the word +<i>satira</i>, as it signifies a poem, cannot possibly +descend. For <i>satira</i> is not properly a substantive, +but an adjective; to which the word <i>lanx</i> (in English a +“charger” or “large platter”) is +understood: so that the Greek poem made according to the manners +of a Satyr, and expressing his qualities, must properly be called +satirical, and not satire. And thus far it is allowed that +the Grecians had such poems, but that they were wholly different +in species from that to which the Romans gave the name of +satire.</p> +<p>Aristotle divides all poetry, in relation to the progress of +it, into nature without art, art begun, and art completed. +Mankind, even the most barbarous, have the seeds of poetry +implanted in them. The first specimen of it was certainly +shown in the praises of the Deity and prayers to Him; and as they +are of natural obligation, so they are likewise of divine +institution: which Milton observing, introduces Adam and Eve +every morning adoring God in hymns and prayers. The first +poetry was thus begun in the wild notes of natural poetry before +the invention of feet and measures. The Grecians and Romans +had no other original of their poetry. Festivals and +holidays soon succeeded to private worship, and we need not doubt +but they were enjoined by the true God to His own people, as they +were afterwards imitated by the heathens; who by the light of +reason knew they were to invoke some superior being in their +necessities, and to thank him for his benefits. Thus the +Grecian holidays were celebrated with offerings to Bacchus and +Ceres and other deities, to whose bounty they supposed they were +owing for their corn and wine and other helps of life. And +the ancient Romans, as Horace tells us, paid their thanks to +Mother Earth or Vesta, to Silvanus, and their Genius in the same +manner. But as all festivals have a double reason of their +institution—the first of religion, the other of recreation +for the unbending of our minds—so both the Grecians and +Romans agreed (after their sacrifices were performed) to spend +the remainder of the day in sports and merriments; amongst which +songs and dances, and that which they called wit (for want of +knowing better), were the chiefest entertainments. The +Grecians had a notion of Satyrs, whom I have already described; +and taking them and the Sileni—that is, the young Satyrs +and the old—for the tutors, attendants, and humble +companions of their Bacchus, habited themselves like those rural +deities, and imitated them in their rustic dances, to which they +joined songs with some sort of rude harmony, but without certain +numbers; and to these they added a kind of chorus.</p> +<p>The Romans also, as nature is the same in all places, though +they knew nothing of those Grecian demi-gods, nor had any +communication with Greece, yet had certain young men who at their +festivals danced and sang after their uncouth manner to a certain +kind of verse which they called Saturnian. What it was we +have no certain light from antiquity to discover; but we may +conclude that, like the Grecian, it was void of art, or, at +least, with very feeble beginnings of it. Those ancient +Romans at these holy days, which were a mixture of devotion and +debauchery, had a custom of reproaching each other with their +faults in a sort of <i>extempore</i> poetry, or rather of tunable +hobbling verse, and they answered in the same kind of gross +raillery—their wit and their music being of a piece. +The Grecians, says Casaubon, had formerly done the same in the +persons of their petulant Satyrs; but I am afraid he mistakes the +matter, and confounds the singing and dancing of the Satyrs with +the rustical entertainments of the first Romans. The reason +of my opinion is this: that Casaubon finding little light from +antiquity of these beginnings of poetry amongst the Grecians, but +only these representations of Satyrs who carried canisters and +cornucopias full of several fruits in their hands, and danced +with them at their public feasts, and afterwards reading Horace, +who makes mention of his homely Romans jesting at one another in +the same kind of solemnities, might suppose those wanton Satyrs +did the same; and especially because Horace possibly might seem +to him to have shown the original of all poetry in general +(including the Grecians as well as Romans), though it is plainly +otherwise that he only described the beginning and first +rudiments of poetry in his own country. The verses are +these, which he cites from the First Epistle of the Second Book, +which was written to Augustus:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Agricolæ prisci</i>, +<i>fortes</i>, <i>parvoque beati</i>,<br /> +<i>Condita post frumenta</i>, <i>levantes tempore festo</i><br /> +<i>Corpus</i>, <i>et ipsum animum spe finis dura ferentem</i>,<br +/> +<i>Cum sociis operum</i>, <i>et pueris</i>, <i>et conjuge +fidâ</i>,<br /> +<i>Tellurem porco</i>, <i>Silvanum lacte piabant</i>;<br /> +<i>Floribus et vino Genium memorem brevis ævi</i>.<br /> +<i>Fescennina per hunc inventa licentia morem</i><br /> +<i>Versibus alternis opprobria rustica fudit</i>.”</p> +<p>“Our brawny clowns of old, who turned the soil,<br /> +Content with little, and inured to toil,<br /> +At harvest-home, with mirth and country cheer,<br /> +Restored their bodies for another year,<br /> +Refreshed their spirits, and renewed their hope<br /> +Of such a future feast and future crop.<br /> +Then with their fellow-joggers of the ploughs,<br /> +Their little children, and their faithful spouse,<br /> +A sow they slew to Vesta’s deity,<br /> +And kindly milk, Silvanus, poured to thee.<br /> +With flowers and wine their Genius they adored;<br /> +A short life and a merry was the word.<br /> +From flowing cups defaming rhymes ensue,<br /> +And at each other homely taunts they threw.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Yet since it is a hard conjecture that so great a man as +Casaubon should misapply what Horace writ concerning ancient Rome +to the ceremonies and manners of ancient Greece, I will not +insist on this opinion, but rather judge in general that since +all poetry had its original from religion, that of the Grecians +and Rome had the same beginning. Both were invented at +festivals of thanksgiving, and both were prosecuted with mirth +and raillery and rudiments of verses; amongst the Greeks by those +who represented Satyrs, and amongst the Romans by real +clowns.</p> +<p>For, indeed, when I am reading Casaubon on these two subjects +methinks I hear the same story told twice over with very little +alteration. Of which Dacier, taking notice in his +interpretation of the Latin verses which I have translated, says +plainly that the beginning of poetry was the same, with a small +variety, in both countries, and that the mother of it in all +nations was devotion. But what is yet more wonderful, that +most learned critic takes notice also, in his illustrations on +the First Epistle of the Second Book, that as the poetry of the +Romans and that of the Grecians had the same beginning at feasts +and thanksgiving (as it has been observed), and the old comedy of +the Greeks (which was invective) and the satire of the Romans +(which was of the same nature) were begun on the very same +occasion, so the fortune of both in process of time was just the +same—the old comedy of the Grecians was forbidden for its +too much licence in exposing of particular persons, and the rude +satire of the Romans was also punished by a law of the Decemviri, +as Horace tells us in these words:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Libertasque recurrentes accepta per +annos</i><br /> +<i>Lusit amabiliter</i>; <i>donec jam sævus apertam</i><br +/> +<i>In rabiem verti cæpit jocus</i>, <i>et per +honestas</i><br /> +<i>Ire domos impune minax</i>: <i>doluere cruento</i><br /> +<i>Dente lacessiti</i>; <i>fuit intactis quoque cura</i><br /> +<i>Conditione super communi</i>: <i>quinetiam lex</i>,<br /> +<i>Pænaque lata</i>, <i>malo quæ nollet carmine +quenquam</i><br /> +<i>Describi</i>: <i>vertere modum</i>, <i>formidine fustis</i><br +/> +<i>Ad benedicendum delectandumque redacti</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The law of the Decemviri was this: <i>Siquis occentassit malum +carmen</i>, <i>sive condidissit</i>, <i>quod infamiam faxit</i>, +<i>flagitiumve alteri</i>, <i>capital esto</i>. A strange +likeness, and barely possible; but the critics being all of the +same opinion, it becomes me to be silent and to submit to better +judgments than my own.</p> +<p>But to return to the Grecians, from whose satiric dramas the +elder Scaliger and Heinsius will have the Roman satire to +proceed; I am to take a view of them first, and see if there be +any such descent from them as those authors have pretended.</p> +<p>Thespis, or whoever he were that invented tragedy (for authors +differ), mingled with them a chorus and dances of Satyrs which +had before been used in the celebration of their festivals, and +there they were ever afterwards retained. The character of +them was also kept, which was mirth and wantonness; and this was +given, I suppose, to the folly of the common audience, who soon +grow weary of good sense, and, as we daily see in our own age and +country, are apt to forsake poetry, and still ready to return to +buffoonery and farce. From hence it came that in the +Olympic Games, where the poets contended for four prizes, the +satiric tragedy was the last of them, for in the rest the Satyrs +were excluded from the chorus. Amongst the plays of +Euripides which are yet remaining, there is one of these +satirics, which is called <i>The Cyclops</i>, in which we may see +the nature of those poems, and from thence conclude what likeness +they have to the Roman satire.</p> +<p>The story of this Cyclops, whose name was Polyphemus (so +famous in the Grecian fables), was that Ulysses, who with his +company was driven on the coast of Sicily, where those Cyclops +inhabited, coming to ask relief from Silenus and the Satyrs, who +were herdsmen to that one-eyed giant, was kindly received by +them, and entertained till, being perceived by Polyphemus, they +were made prisoners against the rites of hospitality (for which +Ulysses eloquently pleaded), were afterwards put down into the +den, and some of them devoured; after which Ulysses (having made +him drunk when he was asleep) thrust a great fire-brand into his +eye, and so revenging his dead followers escaped with the +remaining party of the living, and Silenus and the Satyrs were +freed from their servitude under Polyphemus and remitted to their +first liberty of attending and accompanying their patron +Bacchus.</p> +<p>This was the subject of the tragedy, which, being one of those +that end with a happy event, is therefore by Aristotle judged +below the other sort, whose success is unfortunate; +notwithstanding which, the Satyrs (who were part of the +<i>dramatis personæ</i>, as well as the whole chorus) were +properly introduced into the nature of the poem, which is mixed +of farce and tragedy. The adventure of Ulysses was to +entertain the judging part of the audience, and the uncouth +persons of Silenus and the Satyrs to divert the common people +with their gross railleries.</p> +<p>Your lordship has perceived by this time that this satiric +tragedy and the Roman satire have little resemblance in any of +their features. The very kinds are different; for what has +a pastoral tragedy to do with a paper of verses satirically +written? The character and raillery of the Satyrs is the +only thing that could pretend to a likeness, were Scaliger and +Heinsius alive to maintain their opinion. And the first +farces of the Romans, which were the rudiments of their poetry, +were written before they had any communication with the Greeks, +or indeed any knowledge of that people.</p> +<p>And here it will be proper to give the definition of the Greek +satiric poem from Casaubon before I leave this subject. +“The ‘satiric,’” says he, “is a +dramatic poem annexed to a tragedy having a chorus which consists +of Satyrs. The persons represented in it are illustrious +men, the action of it is great, the style is partly serious and +partly jocular, and the event of the action most commonly is +happy.”</p> +<p>The Grecians, besides these satiric tragedies, had another +kind of poem, which they called “silli,” which were +more of kin to the Roman satire. Those “silli” +were indeed invective poems, but of a different species from the +Roman poems of Ennius, Pacuvius, Lucilius, Horace, and the rest +of their successors. “They were so called,” +says Casaubon in one place, “from Silenus, the +foster-father of Bacchus;” but in another place, bethinking +himself better, he derives their name ὰπὸ +τοῦ +σιλλαίνειν, +from their scoffing and petulancy. From some fragments of +the “silli” written by Timon we may find that they +were satiric poems, full of parodies; that is, of verses patched +up from great poets, and turned into another sense than their +author intended them. Such amongst the Romans is the famous +Cento of Ausonius, where the words are Virgil’s, but by +applying them to another sense they are made a relation of a +wedding-night, and the act of consummation fulsomely described in +the very words of the most modest amongst all poets. Of the +same manner are our songs which are turned into burlesque, and +the serious words of the author perverted into a ridiculous +meaning. Thus in Timon’s “silli” the +words are generally those of Homer and the tragic poets, but he +applies them satirically to some customs and kinds of philosophy +which he arraigns. But the Romans not using any of these +parodies in their satires—sometimes indeed repeating verses +of other men, as Persius cites some of Nero’s, but not +turning them into another meaning—the “silli” +cannot be supposed to be the original of Roman satire. To +these “silli,” consisting of parodies, we may +properly add the satires which were written against particular +persons, such as were the iambics of Archilochus against +Lycambes, which Horace undoubtedly imitated in some of his odes +and epodes, whose titles bear sufficient witness of it: I might +also name the invective of Ovid against Ibis, and many +others. But these are the underwood of satire rather than +the timber-trees; they are not of general extension, as reaching +only to some individual person. And Horace seems to have +purged himself from those splenetic reflections in those odes and +epodes before he undertook the noble work of satires, which were +properly so called.</p> +<p>Thus, my lord, I have at length disengaged myself from those +antiquities of Greece, and have proved, I hope, from the best +critics, that the Roman satire was not borrowed from thence, but +of their own manufacture. I am now almost gotten into my +depth; at least, by the help of Dacier, I am swimming towards +it. Not that I will promise always to follow him, any more +than he follows Casaubon; but to keep him in my eye as my best +and truest guide; and where I think he may possibly mislead me, +there to have recourse to my own lights, as I expect that others +should do by me.</p> +<p>Quintilian says in plain words, <i>Satira quidem tota nostra +est</i>; and Horace had said the same thing before him, speaking +of his predecessor in that sort of poetry, <i>et Græcis +intacti carminis auctor</i>. Nothing can be clearer than +the opinion of the poet and the orator (both the best critics of +the two best ages of the Roman empire), that satire was wholly of +Latin growth, and not transplanted to Rome from Athens. +Yet, as I have said, Scaliger the father, according to his custom +(that is, insolently enough), contradicts them both, and gives no +better reason than the derivation of <i>satyrus</i> from +σάθυ, <i>salacitas</i>; and so, from +the lechery of those fauns, thinks he has sufficiently proved +that satire is derived from them: as if wantonness and lubricity +were essential to that sort of poem, which ought to be avoided in +it. His other allegation, which I have already mentioned, +is as pitiful—that the Satyrs carried platters and +canisters full of fruit in their hands. If they had entered +empty-handed, had they been ever the less Satyrs? Or were +the fruits and flowers which they offered anything of kin to +satire? or any argument that this poem was originally +Grecian? Casaubon judged better, and his opinion is +grounded on sure authority: that satire was derived from +<i>satura</i>, a Roman word which signifies full and abundant, +and full also of variety, in which nothing is wanting to its due +perfection. It is thus, says Denier, that we say a full +colour, when the wool has taken the whole tincture and drunk in +as much of the dye as it can receive. According to this +derivation, from <i>setur</i> comes <i>satura</i> or +<i>satira</i>, according to the new spelling, as <i>optumus</i> +and <i>maxumus</i> are now spelled <i>optimus</i> and +<i>maximus</i>. <i>Satura</i>, as I have formerly noted, is +an adjective, and relates to the word <i>lanx</i>, which is +understood; and this <i>lanx</i> (in English a +“charger” or “large platter”) was yearly +filled with all sorts of fruits, which were offered to the gods +at their festivals as the <i>premices</i> or first +gatherings. These offerings of several sorts thus mingled, +it is true, were not unknown to the Grecians, who called them +πανκαρπιὸν +θυσίαν, a sacrifice of all +sorts of fruits; and +πανπερμίαν, when +they offered all kinds of grain. Virgil has mentioned these +sacrifices in his “Georgics”:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Lancibus et pandis fumantia reddimus +exta</i>;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and in another place, <i>lancesque et liba +feremus</i>—that is, “We offer the smoking entrails +in great platters; and we will offer the chargers and the +cakes.”</p> +<p>This word <i>satura</i> has been afterward applied to many +other sorts of mixtures; as Festus calls it, a kind of +<i>olla</i> or hotch-potch made of several sorts of meats. +Laws were also called <i>leges saturæ</i> when they were of +several heads and titles, like our tacked Bills of Parliament; +and <i>per saturam legem ferre</i> in the Roman senate was to +carry a law without telling the senators, or counting voices, +when they were in haste. Sallust uses the word, <i>per +saturam sententias exquirere</i>, when the majority was visibly +on one side. From hence it might probably be conjectured +that the Discourses or Satires of Ennius, Lucilius, and Horace, +as we now call them, took their name, because they are full of +various matters, and are also written on various +subjects—as Porphyrius says. But Dacier affirms that +it is not immediately from thence that these satires are so +called, for that name had been used formerly for other things +which bore a nearer resemblance to those discourses of Horace; in +explaining of which, continues Dacier, a method is to be pursued +of which Casaubon himself has never thought, and which will put +all things into so clear a light that no further room will be +left for the least dispute.</p> +<p>During the space of almost four hundred years since the +building of their city the Romans had never known any +entertainments of the stage. Chance and jollity first found +out those verses which they called Saturnian and Fescennine; or +rather human nature, which is inclined to poetry, first produced +them rude and barbarous and unpolished, as all other operations +of the soul are in their beginnings before they are cultivated +with art and study. However, in occasions of merriment, +they were first practised; and this rough-cast, unhewn poetry was +instead of stage-plays for the space of a hundred and twenty +years together. They were made <i>extempore</i>, and were, +as the French call them, <i>impromptus</i>; for which the +Tarsians of old were much renowned, and we see the daily examples +of them in the Italian farces of Harlequin and Scaramucha. +Such was the poetry of that savage people before it was tuned +into numbers and the harmony of verse. Little of the +Saturnian verses is now remaining; we only know from authors that +they were nearer prose than poetry, without feet or +measure. They were +ἔυρυθμοι, but not +ἔμμετροι. Perhaps +they might be used in the solemn part of their ceremonies; and +the Fescennine, which were invented after them, in their +afternoons’ debauchery, because they were scoffing and +obscene.</p> +<p>The Fescennine and Saturnian were the same; for as they were +called Saturnian from their ancientness, when Saturn reigned in +Italy, they were also called Fescennine, from Fescennia, a town +in the same country where they were first practised. The +actors, with a gross and rustic kind of raillery, reproached each +other with their failings, and at the same time were nothing +sparing of it to their audience. Somewhat of this custom +was afterwards retained in their Saturnalia, or Feasts of Saturn, +celebrated in December; at least, all kind of freedom in speech +was then allowed to slaves, even against their masters; and we +are not without some imitation of it in our Christmas +gambols. Soldiers also used those Fescennine verses, after +measure and numbers had been added to them, at the triumph of +their generals; of which we have an example in the triumph of +Julius Cæsar over Gaul in these expressions: <i>Cæsar +Gallias subegit</i>, <i>Nicomedes Cæsarem</i>. +<i>Ecce Cæsar nunc triumphat</i>, <i>qui subegit +Gallias</i>; <i>Nicomedes non triumphat</i>, <i>qui subegit +Cæsarem</i>. The vapours of wine made those first +satirical poets amongst the Romans, which, says Dacier, we cannot +better represent than by imagining a company of clowns on a +holiday dancing lubberly and upbraiding one another in +<i>extempore</i> doggerel with their defects and vices, and the +stories that were told of them in bake-houses and barbers’ +shops.</p> +<p>When they began to be somewhat better bred, and were entering, +as I may say, into the first rudiments of civil conversation, +they left these hedge-notes for another sort of poem, somewhat +polished, which was also full of pleasant raillery, but without +any mixture of obscenity. This sort of poetry appeared +under the name of “satire” because of its variety; +and this satire was adorned with compositions of music, and with +dances; but lascivious postures were banished from it. In +the Tuscan language, says Livy, the word <i>hister</i> signifies +a player; and therefore those actors which were first brought +from Etruria to Rome on occasion of a pestilence, when the Romans +were admonished to avert the anger of the gods by plays (in the +year <i>ab urbe conditâ</i> CCCXC.)—those actors, I +say, were therefore called <i>histriones</i>: and that name has +since remained, not only to actors Roman born, but to all others +of every nation. They played, not the former +<i>extempore</i> stuff of Fescennine verses or clownish jests, +but what they acted was a kind of civil cleanly farce, with music +and dances, and motions that were proper to the subject.</p> +<p>In this condition Livius Andronicus found the stage when he +attempted first, instead of farces, to supply it with a nobler +entertainment of tragedies and comedies. This man was a +Grecian born, and being made a slave by Livius Salinator, and +brought to Rome, had the education of his patron’s children +committed to him, which trust he discharged so much to the +satisfaction of his master that he gave him his liberty.</p> +<p>Andronicus, thus become a freeman of Rome, added to his own +name that of Livius, his master; and, as I observed, was the +first author of a regular play in that commonwealth. Being +already instructed in his native country in the manners and +decencies of the Athenian theatre, and conversant in the +<i>archæa comædia</i> or old comedy of Aristophanes +and the rest of the Grecian poets, he took from that model his +own designing of plays for the Roman stage, the first of which +was represented in the year CCCCCXIV. since the building of Rome, +as Tully, from the Commentaries of Atticus, has assured us; it +was after the end of the first Punic War, the year before Atticus +was born. Dacier has not carried the matter altogether thus +far; he only says that one Livius Andronicus was the first +stage-poet at Rome. But I will adventure on this hint to +advance another proposition, which I hope the learned will +approve; and though we have not anything of Andronicus remaining +to justify my conjecture, yet it is exceeding probable that, +having read the works of those Grecian wits, his countrymen, he +imitated not only the groundwork, but also the manner of their +writing; and how grave soever his tragedies might be, yet in his +comedies he expressed the way of Aristophanes, Eupolis, and the +rest, which was to call some persons by their own names, and to +expose their defects to the laughter of the people (the examples +of which we have in the fore-mentioned Aristophanes, who turned +the wise Socrates into ridicule, and is also very free with the +management of Cleon, Alcibiades, and other ministers of the +Athenian government). Now if this be granted, we may easily +suppose that the first hint of satirical plays on the Roman stage +was given by the Greeks—not from the <i>satirica</i>, for +that has been reasonably exploded in the former part of this +discourse—but from their old comedy, which was imitated +first by Livius Andronicus. And then Quintilian and Horace +must be cautiously interpreted, where they affirm that satire is +wholly Roman, and a sort of verse which was not touched on by the +Grecians. The reconcilement of my opinion to the standard +of their judgment is not, however, very difficult, since they +spoke of satire, not as in its first elements, but as it was +formed into a separate work—begun by Ennius, pursued by +Lucilius, and completed afterwards by Horace. The proof +depends only on this <i>postalatum</i>—that the comedies of +Andronicus, which were imitations of the Greek, were also +imitations of their railleries and reflections on particular +persons. For if this be granted me, which is a most +probable supposition, it is easy to infer that the first light +which was given to the Roman theatrical satire was from the plays +of Livius Andronicus, which will be more manifestly discovered +when I come to speak of Ennius. In the meantime I will +return to Dacier.</p> +<p>The people, says he, ran in crowds to these new entertainments +of Andronicus, as to pieces which were more noble in their kind, +and more perfect than their former satires, which for some time +they neglected and abandoned; but not long after they took them +up again, and then they joined them to their comedies, playing +them at the end of every drama, as the French continue at this +day to act their farces, in the nature of a separate +entertainment from their tragedies. But more particularly +they were joined to the “Atellane” fables, says +Casaubon; which were plays invented by the Osci. Those +fables, says Valerius Maximus, out of Livy, were tempered with +the Italian severity, and free from any note of infamy or +obsceneness; and, as an old commentator on Juvenal affirms, the +<i>Exodiarii</i>, which were singers and dancers, entered to +entertain the people with light songs and mimical gestures, that +they might not go away oppressed with melancholy from those +serious pieces of the theatre. So that the ancient satire +of the Romans was in <i>extempore</i> reproaches; the next was +farce, which was brought from Tuscany; to that succeeded the +plays of Andronicus, from the old comedy of the Grecians; and out +of all these sprang two several branches of new Roman satire, +like different scions from the same root, which I shall prove +with as much brevity as the subject will allow.</p> +<p>A year after Andronicus had opened the Roman stage with his +new dramas, Ennius was born; who, when he was grown to +man’s estate, having seriously considered the genius of the +people, and how eagerly they followed the first satires, thought +it would be worth his pains to refine upon the project, and to +write satires, not to be acted on the theatre, but read. He +preserved the groundwork of their pleasantry, their venom, and +their raillery on particular persons and general vices; and by +this means, avoiding the danger of any ill success in a public +representation, he hoped to be as well received in the cabinet as +Andronicus had been upon the stage. The event was +answerable to his expectation. He made discourses in +several sorts of verse, varied often in the same paper, retaining +still in the title their original name of satire. Both in +relation to the subjects, and the variety of matters contained in +them, the satires of Horace are entirely like them; only Ennius, +as I said, confines not himself to one sort of verse, as Horace +does, but taking example from the Greeks, and even from Homer +himself in his “Margites” (which is a kind of satire, +as Scaliger observes), gives himself the licence, when one sort +of numbers comes not easily, to run into another, as his fancy +dictates; for he makes no difficulty to mingle hexameters with +iambic trimeters or with trochaic tetrameters, as appears by +those fragments which are yet remaining of him. Horace has +thought him worthy to be copied, inserting many things of his +into his own satires, as Virgil has done into his +“Æneids.”</p> +<p>Here we have Dacier making out that Ennius was the first +satirist in that way of writing, which was of his +invention—that is, satire abstracted from the stage and new +modelled into papers of verses on several subjects. But he +will have Ennius take the groundwork of satire from the first +farces of the Romans rather than from the formed plays of Livius +Andronicus, which were copied from the Grecian comedies. It +may possibly be so; but Dacier knows no more of it than I +do. And it seems to me the more probable opinion that he +rather imitated the fine railleries of the Greeks, which he saw +in the pieces of Andronicus, than the coarseness of his own +countrymen in their clownish extemporary way of jeering.</p> +<p>But besides this, it is universally granted that Ennius, +though an Italian, was excellently learned in the Greek +language. His verses were stuffed with fragments of it, +even to a fault; and he himself believed, according to the +Pythagorean opinion, that the soul of Homer was transfused into +him, which Persius observes in his sixth satire—<i>postquam +destertuit esse Mæonides</i>. But this being only the +private opinion of so inconsiderable a man as I am, I leave it to +the further disquisition of the critics, if they think it worth +their notice. Most evident it is that, whether he imitated +the Roman farce or the Greek comedies, he is to be acknowledged +for the first author of Roman satire, as it is properly so +called, and distinguished from any sort of stage-play.</p> +<p>Of Pacuvius, who succeeded him, there is little to be said, +because there is so little remaining of him; only that he is +taken to be the nephew of Ennius, his sister’s son; that in +probability he was instructed by his uncle in his way of satire, +which we are told he has copied; but what advances he made, we +know not.</p> +<p>Lucilius came into the world when Pacuvius flourished +most. He also made satires after the manner of Ennius; but +he gave them a more graceful turn, and endeavoured to imitate +more closely the <i>vetus comædia</i> of the Greeks, of the +which the old original Roman satire had no idea till the time of +Livius Andronicus. And though Horace seems to have made +Lucilius the first author of satire in verse amongst the Romans +in these words—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Quid</i>? +<i>cum est Lucilius auses</i><br /> +<i>Primus in hunc operis componere carmina +morem</i>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>he is only thus to be understood—that Lucilius had given +a more graceful turn to the satire of Ennius and Pacuvius, not +that he invented a new satire of his own; and Quintilian seems to +explain this passage of Horace in these words: <i>Satira quidem +tota nostra est</i>; <i>in quâ primus insignem laudem +adeptus est Luciluis</i>.</p> +<p>Thus both Horace and Quintilian give a kind of primacy of +honour to Lucilius amongst the Latin satirists; for as the Roman +language grew more refined, so much more capable it was of +receiving the Grecian beauties, in his time. Horace and +Quintilian could mean no more than that Lucilius writ better than +Ennius and Pacuvius, and on the same account we prefer Horace to +Lucilius. Both of them imitated the old Greek comedy; and +so did Ennius and Pacuvius before them. The polishing of +the Latin tongue, in the succession of times, made the only +difference; and Horace himself in two of his satires, written +purposely on this subject, thinks the Romans of his age were too +partial in their commendations of Lucilius, who writ not only +loosely and muddily, with little art and much less care, but also +in a time when the Latin tongue was not yet sufficiently purged +from the dregs of barbarism; and many significant and sounding +words which the Romans wanted were not admitted even in the times +of Lucretius and Cicero, of which both complain.</p> +<p>But to proceed: Dacier justly taxes Casaubon for saying that +the satires of Lucilius were wholly different in species from +those of Ennius and Pacuvius, Casaubon was led into that mistake +by Diomedes the grammarian, who in effect says +this:—“Satire amongst the Romans but not amongst the +Greeks, was a biting invective poem, made after the model of the +ancient comedy, for the reprehension of vices; such as were the +poems of Lucilius, of Horace, and of Persius. But in former +times the name of satire was given to poems which were composed +of several sorts of verses, such as were made by Ennius and +Pacuvius”—more fully expressing the etymology of the +word satire from <i>satura</i>, which we have observed. +Here it is manifest that Diomedes makes a specifical distinction +betwixt the satires of Ennius and those of Lucilius. But +this, as we say in English, is only a distinction without a +difference; for the reason of it is ridiculous and absolutely +false. This was that which cozened honest Casaubon, who, +relying on Diomedes, had not sufficiently examined the origin and +nature of those two satires, which were entirely the same both in +the matter and the form; for all that Lucilius performed beyond +his predecessors, Ennius and Pacuvius, was only the adding of +more politeness and more salt, without any change in the +substance of the poem. And though Lucilius put not together +in the same satire several sorts of verses, as Ennius did, yet he +composed several satires of several sorts of verses, and mingled +them with Greek verses: one poem consisted only of hexameters, +and another was entirely of iambics; a third of trochaics; as is +visible by the fragments yet remaining of his works. In +short, if the satires of Lucilius are therefore said to be wholly +different from those of Ennius because he added much more of +beauty and polishing to his own poems than are to be found in +those before him, it will follow from hence that the satires of +Horace are wholly different from those of Lucilius, because +Horace has not less surpassed Lucilius in the elegancy of his +writing than Lucilius surpassed Ennius in the turn and ornament +of his. This passage of Diomedes has also drawn Dousa the +son into the same error of Casaubon, which I say, not to expose +the little failings of those judicious men, but only to make it +appear with how much diffidence and caution we are to read their +works when they treat a subject of so much obscurity and so very +ancient as is this of satire.</p> +<p>Having thus brought down the history of satire from its +original to the times of Horace, and shown the several changes of +it, I should here discover some of those graces which Horace +added to it, but that I think it will be more proper to defer +that undertaking till I make the comparison betwixt him and +Juvenal. In the meanwhile, following the order of time, it +will be necessary to say somewhat of another kind of satire which +also was descended from the ancient; it is that which we call the +Varronian satire (but which Varro himself calls the Menippean) +because Varro, the most learned of the Romans, was the first +author of it, who imitated in his works the manners of Menippus +the Gadarenian, who professed the philosophy of the Cynics.</p> +<p>This sort of satire was not only composed of several sorts of +verse, like those of Ennius, but was also mixed with prose, and +Greek was sprinkled amongst the Latin. Quintilian, after he +had spoken of the satire of Lucilius, adds what +follows:—“There is another and former kind of satire, +composed by Terentius Varro, the most learned of the Romans, in +which he was not satisfied alone with mingling in it several +sorts of verse.” The only difficulty of this passage +is that Quintilian tells us that this satire of Varro was of a +former kind; for how can we possibly imagine this to be, since +Varro, who was contemporary to Cicero, must consequently be after +Lucilius? But Quintilian meant not that the satire of Varro +was in order of time before Lucilius; he would only give us to +understand that the Varronian satire, with mixture of several +sorts of verses, was more after the manner of Ennius and Pacuvius +than that of Lucilius, who was more severe and more correct, and +gave himself less liberty in the mixture of his verses in the +same poem.</p> +<p>We have nothing remaining of those Varronian satires excepting +some inconsiderable fragments, and those for the most part much +corrupted. The tithes of many of them are indeed preserved, +and they are generally double; from whence, at least, we may +understand how many various subjects were treated by that +author. Tully in his “Academics” introduces +Varro himself giving us some light concerning the scope and +design of those works; wherein, after he had shown his reasons +why he did not <i>ex professo</i> write of philosophy, he adds +what follows:—“Notwithstanding,” says he, +“that those pieces of mine wherein I have imitated +Menippus, though I have not translated him, are sprinkled with a +kind of mirth and gaiety, yet many things are there inserted +which are drawn from the very entrails of philosophy, and many +things severely argued which I have mingled with pleasantries on +purpose that they may more easily go down with the common sort of +unlearned readers.” The rest of the sentence is so +lame that we can only make thus much out of it—that in the +composition of his satires he so tempered philology with +philosophy that his work was a mixture of them both. And +Tully himself confirms us in this opinion when a little after he +addresses himself to Varro in these words:—“And you +yourself have composed a most elegant and complete poem; you have +begun philosophy in many places; sufficient to incite us, though +too little to instruct us.” Thus it appears that +Varro was one of those writers whom they called +σπουδογελοῖοι +(studious of laughter); and that, as learned as he was, his +business was more to divert his reader than to teach him. +And he entitled his own satires Menippean; not that Menippus had +written any satires (for his were either dialogues or epistles), +but that Varro imitated his style, his manner, and his +facetiousness. All that we know further of Menippus and his +writings, which are wholly lost, is that by some he is esteemed, +as, amongst the rest, by Varro; by others he is noted of cynical +impudence and obscenity; that he was much given to those parodies +which I have already mentioned (that is, he often quoted the +verses of Homer and the tragic poets, and turned their serious +meaning into something that was ridiculous); whereas +Varro’s satires are by Tully called absolute, and most +elegant and various poems. Lucian, who was emulous of this +Menippus, seems to have imitated both his manners and his style +in many of his dialogues, where Menippus himself is often +introduced as a speaker in them and as a perpetual buffoon; +particularly his character is expressed in the beginning of that +dialogue which is called +Νεκυομαντία. +But Varro in imitating him avoids his impudence and filthiness, +and only expresses his witty pleasantry.</p> +<p>This we may believe for certain—that as his subjects +were various, so most of them were tales or stories of his own +invention; which is also manifest from antiquity by those authors +who are acknowledged to have written Varronian satires in +imitation of his—of whom the chief is Petronius Arbiter, +whose satire, they say, is now printing in Holland, wholly +recovered, and made complete; when it is made public, it will +easily be seen by any one sentence whether it be supposititious +or genuine. Many of Lucian’s dialogues may also +properly be called Varronian satires, particularly his true +history; and consequently the “Golden Ass” of +Apuleius, which is taken from him. Of the same stamp is the +mock deification of Claudius by Seneca, and the Symposium or +“Cæsars” of Julian the Emperor. Amongst +the moderns we may reckon the “Encomium Moriæ” +of Erasmus, Barclay’s “Euphormio,” and a volume +of German authors which my ingenious friend Mr. Charles Killigrew +once lent me. In the English I remember none which are +mixed with prose as Varro’s were; but of the same kind is +“Mother Hubbard’s Tale” in Spenser, and (if it +be not too vain to mention anything of my own) the poems of +“Absalom” and “MacFlecnoe.”</p> +<p>This is what I have to say in general of satire: only, as +Dacier has observed before me, we may take notice that the word +satire is of a more general signification in Latin than in French +or English; for amongst the Romans it was not only used for those +discourses which decried vice or exposed folly, but for others +also, where virtue was recommended. But in our modern +languages we apply it only to invective poems, where the very +name of satire is formidable to those persons who would appear to +the world what they are not in themselves; for in English, to say +satire is to mean reflection, as we use that word in the worst +sense; or as the French call it, more properly, +<i>médisance</i>. In the criticism of spelling, it +ought to be with <i>i</i>, and not with <i>y</i>, to distinguish +its true derivation from <i>satura</i>, not from <i>Satyrus</i>; +and if this be so, then it is false spelled throughout this book, +for here it is written “satyr,” which having not +considered at the first, I thought it not worth correcting +afterwards. But the French are more nice, and never spell +it any otherwise than “satire.”</p> +<p>I am now arrived at the most difficult part of my undertaking, +which is to compare Horace with Juvenal and Persius. It is +observed by Rigaltius in his preface before Juvenal, written to +Thuanus, that these three poets have all their particular +partisans and favourers. Every commentator, as he has taken +pains with any of them, thinks himself obliged to prefer his +author to the other two; to find out their failings, and decry +them, that he may make room for his own darling. Such is +the partiality of mankind, to set up that interest which they +have once espoused, though it be to the prejudice of truth, +morality, and common justice, and especially in the productions +of the brain. As authors generally think themselves the +best poets, because they cannot go out of themselves to judge +sincerely of their betters, so it is with critics, who, having +first taken a liking to one of these poets, proceed to comment on +him and to illustrate him; after which they fall in love with +their own labours to that degree of blind fondness that at length +they defend and exalt their author, not so much for his sake as +for their own. It is a folly of the same nature with that +of the Romans themselves in their games of the circus. The +spectators were divided in their factions betwixt the Veneti and +the Prasini; some were for the charioteer in blue, and some for +him in green. The colours themselves were but a fancy; but +when once a man had taken pains to set out those of his party, +and had been at the trouble of procuring voices for them, the +case was altered: he was concerned for his own labour, and that +so earnestly that disputes and quarrels, animosities, commotions, +and bloodshed often happened; and in the declension of the +Grecian empire, the very sovereigns themselves engaged in it, +even when the barbarians were at their doors, and stickled for +the preference of colours when the safety of their people was in +question. I am now myself on the brink of the same +precipice; I have spent some time on the translation of Juvenal +and Persius, and it behoves me to be wary, lest for that reason I +should be partial to them, or take a prejudice against +Horace. Yet on the other side I would not be like some of +our judges, who would give the cause for a poor man right or +wrong; for though that be an error on the better hand, yet it is +still a partiality, and a rich man unheard cannot be concluded an +oppressor. I remember a saying of King Charles II. on Sir +Matthew Hale (who was doubtless an uncorrupt and upright man), +that his servants were sure to be cast on any trial which was +heard before him; not that he thought the judge was possibly to +be bribed, but that his integrity might be too scrupulous, and +that the causes of the Crown were always suspicious when the +privileges of subjects were concerned.</p> +<p>It had been much fairer if the modern critics who have +embarked in the quarrels of their favourite authors had rather +given to each his proper due without taking from another’s +heap to raise their own. There is praise enough for each of +them in particular, without encroaching on his fellows, and +detracting from them or enriching themselves with the spoils of +others. But to come to particulars: Heinsius and Dacier are +the most principal of those who raise Horace above Juvenal and +Persius. Scaliger the father, Rigaltius, and many others +debase Horace that they may set up Juvenal; and Casaubon, who is +almost single, throws dirt on Juvenal and Horace that he may +exalt Persius, whom he understood particularly well, and better +than any of his former commentators, even Stelluti, who succeeded +him. I will begin with him who, in my opinion, defends the +weakest cause, which is that of Persius; and labouring, as +Tacitus professes of his own writing, to divest myself of +partiality or prejudice, consider Persius, not as a poet whom I +have wholly translated, and who has cost me more labour and time +than Juvenal, but according to what I judge to be his own merit, +which I think not equal in the main to that of Juvenal or Horace, +and yet in some things to be preferred to both of them.</p> +<p>First, then, for the verse; neither Casaubon himself, nor any +for him, can defend either his numbers or the purity of his +Latin. Casaubon gives this point for lost, and pretends not +to justify either the measures or the words of Persius; he is +evidently beneath Horace and Juvenal in both.</p> +<p>Then, as his verse is scabrous and hobbling, and his words not +everywhere well chosen (the purity of Latin being more corrupted +than in the time of Juvenal, and consequently of Horace, who +wrote when the language was in the height of its perfection), so +his diction is hard, his figures are generally too bold and +daring, and his tropes, particularly his metaphors, insufferably +strained.</p> +<p>In the third place, notwithstanding all the diligence of +Casaubon, Stelluti, and a Scotch gentleman whom I have heard +extremely commended for his illustrations of him, yet he is still +obscure; whether he affected not to be understood but with +difficulty; or whether the fear of his safety under Nero +compelled him to this darkness in some places, or that it was +occasioned by his close way of thinking, and the brevity of his +style and crowding of his figures; or lastly, whether after so +long a time many of his words have been corrupted, and many +customs and stories relating to them lost to us; whether some of +these reasons, or all, concurred to render him so cloudy, we may +be bold to affirm that the best of commentators can but guess at +his meaning in many passages, and none can be certain that he has +divined rightly.</p> +<p>After all he was a young man, like his friend and contemporary +Lucan—both of them men of extraordinary parts and great +acquired knowledge, considering their youth; but neither of them +had arrived to that maturity of judgment which is necessary to +the accomplishing of a formed poet. And this consideration, +as on the one hand it lays some imperfections to their charge, so +on the other side it is a candid excuse for those failings which +are incident to youth and inexperience; and we have more reason +to wonder how they, who died before the thirtieth year of their +age, could write so well and think so strongly, than to accuse +them of those faults from which human nature (and more especially +in youth) can never possibly be exempted.</p> +<p>To consider Persius yet more closely: he rather insulted over +vice and folly than exposed them like Juvenal and Horace; and as +chaste and modest as he is esteemed, it cannot be denied but that +in some places he is broad and fulsome, as the latter verses of +the fourth satire and of the sixth sufficiently witness. +And it is to be believed that he who commits the same crime often +and without necessity cannot but do it with some kind of +pleasure.</p> +<p>To come to a conclusion: he is manifestly below Horace because +he borrows most of his greatest beauties from him; and Casaubon +is so far from denying this that he has written a treatise +purposely concerning it, wherein he shows a multitude of his +translations from Horace, and his imitations of him, for the +credit of his author, which he calls “Imitatio +Horatiana.”</p> +<p>To these defects (which I casually observed while I was +translating this author) Scaliger has added others; he calls him +in plain terms a silly writer and a trifler, full of ostentation +of his learning, and, after all, unworthy to come into +competition with Juvenal and Horace.</p> +<p>After such terrible accusations, it is time to hear what his +patron Casaubon can allege in his defence. Instead of +answering, he excuses for the most part; and when he cannot, +accuses others of the same crimes. He deals with Scaliger +as a modest scholar with a master. He compliments him with +so much reverence that one would swear he feared him as much at +least as he respected him. Scaliger will not allow Persius +to have any wit; Casaubon interprets this in the mildest sense, +and confesses his author was not good at turning things into a +pleasant ridicule, or, in other words, that he was not a +laughable writer. That he was <i>ineptus</i>, indeed, but +that was <i>non aptissimus ad jocandum</i>; but that he was +ostentatious of his learning, that by Scaliger’s good +favour he denies. Persius showed his learning, but was no +boaster of it; he did <i>ostendere</i>, but not <i>ostentare</i>; +and so, he says, did Scaliger (where, methinks, Casaubon turns it +handsomely upon that supercilious critic, and silently insinuates +that he himself was sufficiently vain-glorious and a boaster of +his own knowledge). All the writings of this venerable +censor, continues Casaubon, which are +χρυσοῦ +χρυσότερα (more +golden than gold itself), are everywhere smelling of that thyme +which, like a bee, he has gathered from ancient authors; but far +be ostentation and vain-glory from a gentleman so well born and +so nobly educated as Scaliger. But, says Scaliger, he is so +obscure that he has got himself the name of Scotinus—a dark +writer. “Now,” says Casaubon, “it is a +wonder to me that anything could be obscure to the divine wit of +Scaliger, from which nothing could be hidden.” This +is, indeed, a strong compliment, but no defence; and Casaubon, +who could not but be sensible of his author’s blind side, +thinks it time to abandon a post that was untenable. He +acknowledges that Persius is obscure in some places; but so is +Plato, so is Thucydides; so are Pindar, Theocritus, and +Aristophanes amongst the Greek poets; and even Horace and +Juvenal, he might have added, amongst the Romans. The truth +is, Persius is not sometimes, but generally obscure; and +therefore Casaubon at last is forced to excuse him by alleging +that it was <i>se defendendo</i>, for fear of Nero, and that he +was commanded to write so cloudily by Cornutus, in virtue of holy +obedience to his master. I cannot help my own opinion; I +think Cornutus needed not to have read many lectures to him on +that subject. Persius was an apt scholar, and when he was +bidden to be obscure in some places where his life and safety +were in question, took the same counsel for all his book, and +never afterwards wrote ten lines together clearly. +Casaubon, being upon this chapter, has not failed, we may be +sure, of making a compliment to his own dear comment. +“If Persius,” says he, “be in himself obscure, +yet my interpretation has made him intelligible.” +There is no question but he deserves that praise which he has +given to himself; but the nature of the thing, as Lucretius says, +will not admit of a perfect explanation. Besides many +examples which I could urge, the very last verse of his last +satire (upon which he particularly values himself in his preface) +is not yet sufficiently explicated. It is true, Holyday has +endeavoured to justify his construction; but Stelluti is against +it: and, for my part, I can have but a very dark notion of +it. As for the chastity of his thoughts, Casaubon denies +not but that one particular passage in the fourth satire +(<i>At</i>, <i>si unctus cesses</i>, &c.) is not only the +most obscure, but the most obscene, of all his works. I +understood it, but for that reason turned it over. In +defence of his boisterous metaphors he quotes Longinus, who +accounts them as instruments of the sublime, fit to move and stir +up the affections, particularly in narration; to which it may be +replied that where the trope is far-fetched and hard, it is fit +for nothing but to puzzle the understanding, and may be reckoned +amongst those things of Demosthenes which Æschines called +θαύματα, not +ῥήματα—that is, prodigies, +not words. It must be granted to Casaubon that the +knowledge of many things is lost in our modern ages which were of +familiar notice to the ancients, and that satire is a poem of a +difficult nature in itself, and is not written to vulgar readers; +and (through the relation which it has to comedy) the frequent +change of persons makes the sense perplexed, when we can but +divine who it is that speaks—whether Persius himself, or +his friend and monitor, or, in some places, a third person. +But Casaubon comes back always to himself, and concludes that if +Persius had not been obscure, there had been no need of him for +an interpreter. Yet when he had once enjoined himself so +hard a task, he then considered the Greek proverb, that he must +χελώνης +φαγεῖν, ἢ μὴ +φαγεῖν (either eat the whole +snail or let it quite alone); and so he went through with his +laborious task, as I have done with my difficult translation.</p> +<p>Thus far, my lord, you see it has gone very hard with +Persius. I think he cannot be allowed to stand in +competition either with Juvenal or Horace. Yet, for once, I +will venture to be so vain as to affirm that none of his hard +metaphors or forced expressions are in my translation. But +more of this in its proper place, where I shall say somewhat in +particular of our general performance in making these two authors +English. In the meantime I think myself obliged to give +Persius his undoubted due, and to acquaint the world, with +Casaubon, in what he has equalled and in what excelled his two +competitors.</p> +<p>A man who is resolved to praise an author with any appearance +of justice must be sure to take him on the strongest side, and +where he is least liable to exceptions; he is therefore obliged +to choose his mediums accordingly. Casaubon (who saw that +Persius could not laugh with a becoming grace, that he was not +made for jesting, and that a merry conceit was not his talent) +turned his feather, like an Indian, to another light, that he +might give it the better gloss. “Moral +doctrine,” says he, “and urbanity or well-mannered +wit are the two things which constitute the Roman satire; but of +the two, that which is most essential to this poem, and is, as it +were, the very soul which animates it, is the scourging of vice +and exhortation to virtue.” Thus wit, for a good +reason, is already almost out of doors, and allowed only for an +instrument—a kind of tool or a weapon, as he calls +it—of which the satirist makes use in the compassing of his +design. The end and aim of our three rivals is consequently +the same; but by what methods they have prosecuted their +intention is further to be considered. Satire is of the +nature of moral philosophy, as being instructive; he therefore +who instructs most usefully will carry the palm from his two +antagonists. The philosophy in which Persius was educated, +and which he professes through his whole book, is the +Stoic—the most noble, most generous, most beneficial to +humankind amongst all the sects who have given us the rules of +ethics, thereby to form a severe virtue in the soul, to raise in +us an undaunted courage against the assaults of fortune, to +esteem as nothing the things that are without us, because they +are not in our power; not to value riches, beauty, honours, fame, +or health any farther than as conveniences and so many helps to +living as we ought, and doing good in our generation. In +short, to be always happy while we possess our minds with a good +conscience, are free from the slavery of vices, and conform our +actions and conversation to the rules of right reason. See +here, my lord, an epitome of Epictetus, the doctrine of Zeno, and +the education of our Persius; and this he expressed, not only in +all his satires, but in the manner of his life. I will not +lessen this commendation of the Stoic philosophy by giving you an +account of some absurdities in their doctrine, and some perhaps +impieties (if we consider them by the standard of Christian +faith). Persius has fallen into none of them, and therefore +is free from those imputations. What he teaches might be +taught from pulpits with more profit to the audience than all the +nice speculations of divinity and controversies concerning faith, +which are more for the profit of the shepherd than for the +edification of the flock. Passion, interest, ambition, and +all their bloody consequences of discord and of war are banished +from this doctrine. Here is nothing proposed but the quiet +and tranquillity of the mind; virtue lodged at home, and +afterwards diffused in her general effects to the improvement and +good of humankind. And therefore I wonder not that the +present Bishop of Salisbury has recommended this our author and +the tenth satire of Juvenal (in his pastoral letter) to the +serious perusal and practice of the divines in his diocese as the +best commonplaces for their sermons, as the storehouses and +magazines of moral virtues, from whence they may draw out, as +they have occasion, all manner of assistance for the +accomplishment of a virtuous life, which the Stoics have assigned +for the great end and perfection of mankind. Herein, then, +it is that Persius has excelled both Juvenal and Horace. He +sticks to his own philosophy; he shifts not sides, like Horace +(who is sometimes an Epicurean, sometimes a Stoic, sometimes an +Eclectic, as his present humour leads him), nor declaims, like +Juvenal, against vices more like an orator than a +philosopher. Persius is everywhere the same—true to +the dogmas of his master. What he has learnt, he teaches +vehemently; and what he teaches, that he practises himself. +There is a spirit of sincerity in all he says; you may easily +discern that he is in earnest, and is persuaded of that truth +which he inculcates. In this I am of opinion that he excels +Horace, who is commonly in jest, and laughs while he instructs; +and is equal to Juvenal, who was as honest and serious as +Persius, and more he could not be.</p> +<p>Hitherto I have followed Casaubon, and enlarged upon him, +because I am satisfied that he says no more than truth; the rest +is almost all frivolous. For he says that Horace, being the +son of a tax-gatherer (or a collector, as we call it) smells +everywhere of the meanness of his birth and education; his +conceits are vulgar, like the subjects of his satires; that he +does <i>plebeium sepere</i>, and writes not with that elevation +which becomes a satirist; that Persius, being nobly born and of +an opulent family, had likewise the advantage of a better master +(Cornutus being the most learned of his time, a man of a most +holy life, the chief of the Stoic sect at Rome, and not only a +great philosopher, but a poet himself, and in probability a +coadjutor of Persius): that as for Juvenal, he was long a +declaimer, came late to poetry, and had not been much conversant +in philosophy.</p> +<p>It is granted that the father of Horace was +<i>libertinus</i>—that is, one degree removed from his +grandfather, who had been once a slave. But Horace, +speaking of him, gives him the best character of a father which I +ever read in history; and I wish a witty friend of mine, now +living, had such another. He bred him in the best school, +and with the best company of young noblemen; and Horace, by his +gratitude to his memory, gives a certain testimony that his +education was ingenuous. After this he formed himself +abroad by the conversation of great men. Brutus found him +at Athens, and was so pleased with him that he took him thence +into the army, and made him <i>Tribunus Militum</i> (a colonel in +a legion), which was the preferment of an old soldier. All +this was before his acquaintance with Mæcenas, and his +introduction into the court of Augustus, and the familiarity of +that great emperor; which, had he not been well bred before, had +been enough to civilise his conversation, and render him +accomplished and knowing in all the arts of complacency and good +behaviour; and, in short, an agreeable companion for the retired +hours and privacies of a favourite who was first minister. +So that upon the whole matter Persius may be acknowledged to be +equal with him in those respects, though better born, and Juvenal +inferior to both. If the advantage be anywhere, it is on +the side of Horace, as much as the court of Augustus Cæsar +was superior to that of Nero. As for the subjects which +they treated, it will appear hereafter that Horace wrote not +vulgarly on vulgar subjects, nor always chose them. His +style is constantly accommodated to his subject, either high or +low. If his fault be too much lowness, that of Persius is +the fault of the hardness of his metaphors and obscurity; and so +they are equal in the failings of their style, where Juvenal +manifestly triumphs over both of them.</p> +<p>The comparison betwixt Horace and Juvenal is more difficult, +because their forces were more equal. A dispute has always +been, and ever will continue, betwixt the favourers of the two +poets. <i>Non nostrum est tantas componere lites</i>. +I shall only venture to give my own opinion, and leave it for +better judges to determine. If it be only argued in general +which of them was the better poet, the victory is already gained +on the side of Horace. Virgil himself must yield to him in +the delicacy of his turns, his choice of words, and perhaps the +purity of his Latin. He who says that Pindar is inimitable, +is himself inimitable in his odes; but the contention betwixt +these two great masters is for the prize of satire, in which +controversy all the odes and epodes of Horace are to stand +excluded. I say this because Horace has written many of +them satirically against his private enemies; yet these, if +justly considered, are somewhat of the nature of the Greek +<i>silli</i>, which were invectives against particular sects and +persons. But Horace had purged himself of this choler +before he entered on those discourses which are more properly +called the Roman satire. He has not now to do with a Lyce, +a Canidia, a Cassius Severus, or a Menas; but is to correct the +vices and the follies of his time, and to give the rules of a +happy and virtuous life. In a word, that former sort of +satire which is known in England by the name of lampoon is a +dangerous sort of weapon, and for the most part unlawful. +We have no moral right on the reputation of other men; it is +taking from them what we cannot restore to them. There are +only two reasons for which we may be permitted to write lampoons, +and I will not promise that they can always justify us. The +first is revenge, when we have been affronted in the same nature, +or have been anywise notoriously abused, and can make ourselves +no other reparation. And yet we know that in Christian +charity all offences are to be forgiven, as we expect the like +pardon for those which we daily commit against Almighty +God. And this consideration has often made me tremble when +I was saying our Saviour’s prayer, for the plain condition +of the forgiveness which we beg is the pardoning of others the +offences which they have done to us; for which reason I have many +times avoided the commission of that fault, even when I have been +notoriously provoked. Let not this, my lord, pass for +vanity in me; for it is truth. More libels have been +written against me than almost any man now living; and I had +reason on my side to have defended my own innocence. I +speak not of my poetry, which I have wholly given up to the +critics—let them use it as they please—posterity, +perhaps, may be more favourable to me; for interest and passion +will lie buried in another age, and partiality and prejudice be +forgotten. I speak of my morals, which have been +sufficiently aspersed—that only sort of reputation ought to +be dear to every honest man, and is to me. But let the +world witness for me that I have been often wanting to myself in +that particular; I have seldom answered any scurrilous lampoon +when it was in my power to have exposed my enemies; and, being +naturally vindicative, have suffered in silence, and possessed my +soul in quiet.</p> +<p>Anything, though never so little, which a man speaks of +himself, in my opinion, is still too much; and therefore I will +waive this subject, and proceed to give the second reason which +may justify a poet when he writes against a particular person, +and that is when he is become a public nuisance. All those +whom Horace in his satires, and Persius and Juvenal have +mentioned in theirs with a brand of infamy, are wholly +such. It is an action of virtue to make examples of vicious +men. They may and ought to be upbraided with their crimes +and follies, both for their own amendment (if they are not yet +incorrigible), and for the terror of others, to hinder them from +falling into those enormities, which they see are so severely +punished in the persons of others. The first reason was +only an excuse for revenge; but this second is absolutely of a +poet’s office to perform. But how few lampooners are +there now living who are capable of this duty! When they +come in my way, it is impossible sometimes to avoid reading +them. But, good God! how remote they are in common justice +from the choice of such persons as are the proper subject of +satire, and how little wit they bring for the support of their +injustice! The weaker sex is their most ordinary theme; and +the best and fairest are sure to be the most severely +handled. Amongst men, those who are prosperously unjust are +entitled to a panegyric, but afflicted virtue is insolently +stabbed with all manner of reproaches; no decency is considered, +no fulsomeness omitted; no venom is wanting, as far as dulness +can supply it, for there is a perpetual dearth of wit, a +barrenness of good sense and entertainment. The neglect of +the readers will soon put an end to this sort of +scribbling. There can be no pleasantry where there is no +wit, no impression can be made where there is no truth for the +foundation. To conclude: they are like the fruits of the +earth in this unnatural season; the corn which held up its head +is spoiled with rankness, but the greater part of the harvest is +laid along, and little of good income and wholesome nourishment +is received into the barns. This is almost a digression, I +confess to your lordship; but a just indignation forced it from +me. Now I have removed this rubbish I will return to the +comparison of Juvenal and Horace.</p> +<p>I would willingly divide the palm betwixt them upon the two +heads of profit and delight, which are the two ends of poetry in +general. It must be granted by the favourers of Juvenal +that Horace is the more copious and more profitable in his +instructions of human life; but in my particular opinion, which I +set not up for a standard to better judgments, Juvenal is the +more delightful author. I am profited by both, I am pleased +with both; but I owe more to Horace for my instruction, and more +to Juvenal for my pleasure. This, as I said, is my +particular taste of these two authors. They who will have +either of them to excel the other in both qualities, can scarce +give better reasons for their opinion than I for mine. But +all unbiassed readers will conclude that my moderation is not to +be condemned; to such impartial men I must appeal, for they who +have already formed their judgment may justly stand suspected of +prejudice; and though all who are my readers will set up to be my +judges, I enter my caveat against them, that they ought not so +much as to be of my jury; or; if they be admitted, it is but +reason that they should first hear what I have to urge in the +defence of my opinion.</p> +<p>That Horace is somewhat the better instructor of the two is +proved from hence—that his instructions are more general, +Juvenal’s more limited. So that, granting that the +counsels which they give are equally good for moral use, Horace, +who gives the most various advice, and most applicable to all +occasions which can occur to us in the course of our +lives—as including in his discourses not only all the rules +of morality, but also of civil conversation—is undoubtedly +to be preferred to him, who is more circumscribed in his +instructions, makes them to fewer people, and on fewer occasions, +than the other. I may be pardoned for using an old saying, +since it is true and to the purpose: <i>Bonum quò +communius</i>, <i>eò melius</i>. Juvenal, excepting +only his first satire, is in all the rest confined to the +exposing of some particular vice; that he lashes, and there he +sticks. His sentences are truly shining and instructive; +but they are sprinkled here and there. Horace is teaching +us in every line, and is perpetually moral; he had found out the +skill of Virgil to hide his sentences, to give you the virtue of +them without showing them in their full extent, which is the +ostentation of a poet, and not his art. And this Petronius +charges on the authors of his time as a vice of writing, which +was then growing on the age: <i>ne sententiæ extra corpus +orationis emineant</i>; he would have them weaved into the body +of the work, and not appear embossed upon it, and striking +directly on the reader’s view. Folly was the proper +quarry of Horace, and not vice; and as there are but few +notoriously wicked men in comparison with a shoal of fools and +fops, so it is a harder thing to make a man wise than to make him +honest; for the will is only to be reclaimed in the one, but the +understanding is to be informed in the other. There are +blind sides and follies even in the professors of moral +philosophy, and there is not any one sect of them that Horace has +not exposed; which, as it was not the design of Juvenal, who was +wholly employed in lashing vices (some of them the most enormous +that can be imagined), so perhaps it was not so much his +talent.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus +amico</i><br /> +<i>Tangit</i>, <i>et admissus circum præcordia +ludit</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This was the commendation which Persius gave him; where by +<i>vitium</i> he means those little vices which we call follies, +the defects of human understanding, or at most the peccadilloes +of life, rather than the tragical vices to which men are hurried +by their unruly passions and exorbitant desires. But in the +word <i>omne</i>, which is universal, he concludes with me that +the divine wit of Horace left nothing untouched; that he entered +into the inmost recesses of nature; found out the imperfections +even of the most wise and grave, as well as of the common people; +discovering even in the great Trebatius (to whom he addresses the +first satire) his hunting after business and following the court, +as well as in the prosecutor Crispinus, his impertinence and +importunity. It is true, he exposes Crispinus openly as a +common nuisance; but he rallies the other, as a friend, more +finely. The exhortations of Persius are confined to +noblemen, and the Stoic philosophy is that alone which he +recommends to them; Juvenal exhorts to particular virtues, as +they are opposed to those vices against which he declaims; but +Horace laughs to shame all follies, and insinuates virtue rather +by familiar examples than by the severity of precepts.</p> +<p>This last consideration seems to incline the balance on the +side of Horace, and to give him the preference to Juvenal, not +only in profit, but in pleasure. But, after all, I must +confess that the delight which Horace gives me is but languishing +(be pleased still to understand that I speak of my own taste +only); he may ravish other men, but I am too stupid and +insensible to be tickled. Where he barely grins himself, +and, as Scaliger says, only shows his white teeth, he cannot +provoke me to any laughter. His urbanity—that is, his +good manners—are to be commended; but his wit is faint, and +his salt (if I may dare to say so) almost insipid. Juvenal +is of a more vigorous and masculine wit; he gives me as much +pleasure as I can bear; he fully satisfies my expectation; he +treats his subject home; his spleen is raised, and he raises +mine. I have the pleasure of concernment in all he says; he +drives his reader along with him, and when he is at the end of +his way, I willingly stop with him. If he went another +stage, it would be too far; it would make a journey of a +progress, and turn delight into fatigue. When he gives +over, it is a sign the subject is exhausted, and the wit of man +can carry it no farther. If a fault can be justly found in +him, it is that he is sometimes too luxuriant, too redundant; +says more than he needs, like my friend “the Plain +Dealer,” but never more than pleases. Add to this +that his thoughts are as just as those of Horace, and much more +elevated; his expressions are sonorous and more noble; his verse +more numerous; and his words are suitable to his thoughts, +sublime and lofty. All these contribute to the pleasure of +the reader; and the greater the soul of him who reads, his +transports are the greater. Horace is always on the amble, +Juvenal on the gallop, but his way is perpetually on +carpet-ground. He goes with more impetuosity than Horace, +but as securely; and the swiftness adds a more lively agitation +to the spirits. The low style of Horace is according to his +subject—that is, generally grovelling. I question not +but he could have raised it, for the first epistle of the second +book, which he writes to Augustus (a most instructive satire +concerning poetry), is of so much dignity in the words, and of so +much elegancy in the numbers, that the author plainly shows the +<i>sermo pedestris</i> in his other satires was rather his choice +than his necessity. He was a rival to Lucilius, his +predecessor, and was resolved to surpass him in his own +manner. Lucilius, as we see by his remaining fragments, +minded neither his style, nor his numbers, nor his purity of +words, nor his run of verse. Horace therefore copes with +him in that humble way of satire, writes under his own force, and +carries a dead weight, that he may match his competitor in the +race. This, I imagine, was the chief reason why he minded +only the clearness of his satire, and the cleanness of +expression, without ascending to those heights to which his own +vigour might have carried him. But limiting his desires +only to the conquest of Lucilius, he had his ends of his rival, +who lived before him, but made way for a new conquest over +himself by Juvenal his successor. He could not give an +equal pleasure to his reader, because he used not equal +instruments. The fault was in the tools, and not in the +workman. But versification and numbers are the greatest +pleasures of poetry. Virgil knew it, and practised both so +happily that, for aught I know, his greatest excellency is in his +diction. In all other parts of poetry he is faultless, but +in this he placed his chief perfection. And give me leave, +my lord, since I have here an apt occasion, to say that Virgil +could have written sharper satires than either Horace or Juvenal +if he would have employed his talent that way. I will +produce a verse and half of his, in one of his Eclogues, to +justify my opinion, and with commas after every word, to show +that he has given almost as many lashes as he has written +syllables. It is against a bad poet, whose ill verses he +describes:—</p> +<blockquote><p> “<i>Non +tu</i>, <i>in triviis indocte</i>, <i>solebas</i><br /> +<i>Stridenti</i>, <i>miserum</i>, <i>stipulâ</i>, +<i>disperdere carmen</i>?”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But to return to my purpose. When there is anything +deficient in numbers and sound, the reader is uneasy and +unsatisfied; he wants something of his complement, desires +somewhat which he finds not: and this being the manifest defect +of Horace, it is no wonder that, finding it supplied in Juvenal, +we are more delighted with him. And besides this, the sauce +of Juvenal is more poignant, to create in us an appetite of +reading him. The meat of Horace is more nourishing, but the +cookery of Juvenal more exquisite; so that, granting Horace to be +the more general philosopher, we cannot deny that Juvenal was the +greater poet—I mean, in satire. His thoughts are +sharper, his indignation against vice is more vehement, his +spirit has more of the commonwealth genius; he treats tyranny, +and all the vices attending it, as they deserve, with the utmost +rigour; and consequently a noble soul is better pleased with a +zealous vindicator of Roman liberty than with a temporising poet, +a well-mannered court slave, and a man who is often afraid of +laughing in the right place—who is ever decent, because he +is naturally servile.</p> +<p>After all, Horace had the disadvantage of the times in which +he lived; they were better for the man, but worse for the +satirist. It is generally said that those enormous vices +which were practised under the reign of Domitian were unknown in +the time of Augustus Cæsar; that therefore Juvenal had a +larger field than Horace. Little follies were out of doors +when oppression was to be scourged instead of avarice; it was no +longer time to turn into ridicule the false opinions of +philosophers when the Roman liberty was to be asserted. +There was more need of a Brutus in Domitian’s days to +redeem or mend, than of a Horace, if he had then been living, to +laugh at a fly-catcher. This reflection at the same time +excuses Horace, but exalts Juvenal. I have ended, before I +was aware, the comparison of Horace and Juvenal upon the topics +of instruction and delight; and indeed I may safely here conclude +that commonplace: for if we make Horace our minister of state in +satire, and Juvenal of our private pleasures, I think the latter +has no ill bargain of it. Let profit have the pre-eminence +of honour in the end of poetry; pleasure, though but the second +in degree, is the first in favour. And who would not choose +to be loved better rather than to be more esteemed! But I +am entered already upon another topic, which concerns the +particular merits of these two satirists. However, I will +pursue my business where I left it, and carry it farther than +that common observation of the several ages in which these +authors flourished.</p> +<p>When Horace writ his satires, the monarchy of his Cæsar +was in its newness, and the government but just made easy to the +conquered people. They could not possibly have forgotten +the usurpation of that prince upon their freedom, nor the violent +methods which he had used in the compassing of that vast design; +they yet remembered his proscriptions, and the slaughter of so +many noble Romans their defenders—amongst the rest, that +horrible action of his when he forced Livia from the arms of her +husband (who was constrained to see her married, as Dion relates +the story), and, big with child as she was, conveyed to the bed +of his insulting rival. The same Dion Cassius gives us +another instance of the crime before mentioned—that +Cornelius Sisenna, being reproached in full senate with the +licentious conduct of his wife, returned this answer: that he had +married her by the counsel of Augustus (intimating, says my +author, that Augustus had obliged him to that marriage, that he +might under that covert have the more free access to her). +His adulteries were still before their eyes, but they must be +patient where they had not power. In other things that +emperor was moderate enough; propriety was generally secured, and +the people entertained with public shows and donatives, to make +them more easily digest their lost liberty. But Augustus, +who was conscious to himself of so many crimes which he had +committed, thought in the first place to provide for his own +reputation by making an edict against lampoons and satires, and +the authors of those defamatory writings, which my author +Tacitus, from the law-term, calls <i>famosos libellos</i>.</p> +<p>In the first book of his Annals he gives the following account +of it in these words:—<i>Primus Augustus cognitionem de +famosis libellis</i>, <i>specie legis ejus</i>, <i>tractavit</i>; +<i>commotus Cassii Severi libidine</i>, <i>quâ viros +fæminasque illustres procacibus scriptis +diffamaverat</i>. Thus in English:—“Augustus +was the first who, under the colour of that law, took cognisance +of lampoons, being provoked to it by the petulancy of Cassius +Severus, who had defamed many illustrious persons of both sexes +in his writings.” The law to which Tacitus refers was +<i>Lex læsæ majestatis</i>; commonly called, for the +sake of brevity, <i>majestas</i>; or, as we say, +high-treason. He means not that this law had not been +enacted formerly (for it had been made by the Decemviri, and was +inscribed amongst the rest in the Twelve Tables, to prevent the +aspersion of the Roman majesty, either of the people themselves, +or their religion, or their magistrates; and the infringement of +it was capital—that is, the offender was whipped to death +with the fasces which were borne before their chief officers of +Rome), but Augustus was the first who restored that intermitted +law. By the words “under colour of that law” he +insinuates that Augustus caused it to be executed on pretence of +those libels which were written by Cassius Severus against the +nobility, but in truth to save himself from such defamatory +verses. Suetonius likewise makes mention of it +thus:—<i>Sparsos de se in curiâ famosos libellos</i>, +<i>nec exparit</i>, <i>et magnâ curâ +redarguit</i>. <i>Ac ne requisitis quidem auctoribus</i>, +<i>id modo censuit</i>, <i>cognoscendum posthac de iis qui +libellos aut carmina ad infamiam cujuspiam sub alieno nomine +edant</i>. “Augustus was not afraid of libels,” +says that author, “yet he took all care imaginable to have +them answered, and then decreed that for the time to come the +authors of them should be punished.” But Aurelius +makes it yet more clear, according to my sense, that this emperor +for his own sake durst not permit them:—<i>Fecit id +Augustus in speciem</i>, <i>et quasi gratificaretur populo +Romano</i>, <i>et primoribus urbis</i>; <i>sed revera ut sibi +consuleret</i>: <i>nam habuit in animo comprimere nimiam +quorundam procacitatem in loquendo</i>, <i>à quâ nec +ipse exemptus fuit</i>. <i>Nam suo nomine compescere erat +invidiosum</i>, <i>sub alieno facile et utile</i>. <i>Ergo +specie legis tractavit</i>, <i>quasi populi Romani majestas +infamaretur</i>. This, I think, is a sufficient comment on +that passage of Tacitus. I will add only by the way that +the whole family of the Cæsars and all their relations were +included in the law, because the majesty of the Romans in the +time of the Empire was wholly in that house: <i>Omnia Cæsar +erat</i>; they were all accounted sacred who belonged to +him. As for Cassius Severus, he was contemporary with +Horace, and was the same poet against whom he writes in his +epodes under this title, <i>In Cassium Severum</i>, <i>maledicum +poctam</i>—perhaps intending to kill two crows, according +to our proverb, with one stone, and revenge both himself and his +emperor together.</p> +<p>From hence I may reasonably conclude that Augustus, who was +not altogether so good as he was wise, had some by-respect in the +enacting of this law; for to do anything for nothing was not his +maxim. Horace, as he was a courtier, complied with the +interest of his master; and, avoiding the lashing of greater +crimes, confined himself to the ridiculing of petty vices and +common follies, excepting only some reserved cases in his odes +and epodes of his own particular quarrels (which either with +permission of the magistrate or without it, every man will +revenge, though I say not that he should; for <i>prior +læsit</i> is a good excuse in the civil law if Christianity +had not taught us to forgive). However, he was not the +proper man to arraign great vices; at least, if the stories which +we hear of him are true—that he practised some which I will +not here mention, out of honour to him. It was not for a +Clodius to accuse adulterers, especially when Augustus was of +that number. So that, though his age was not exempted from +the worst of villainies, there was no freedom left to reprehend +them by reason of the edict; and our poet was not fit to +represent them in an odious character, because himself was dipped +in the same actions. Upon this account, without further +insisting on the different tempers of Juvenal and Horace, I +conclude that the subjects which Horace chose for satire are of a +lower nature than those of which Juvenal has written.</p> +<p>Thus I have treated, in a new method, the comparison betwixt +Horace, Juvenal, and Persius. Somewhat of their particular +manner, belonging to all of them, is yet remaining to be +considered. Persius was grave, and particularly opposed his +gravity to lewdness, which was the predominant vice in +Nero’s court at the time when he published his satires, +which was before that emperor fell into the excess of +cruelty. Horace was a mild admonisher, a court satirist, +fit for the gentle times of Augustus, and more fit for the +reasons which I have already given. Juvenal was as proper +for his times as they for theirs; his was an age that deserved a +more severe chastisement; vices were more gross and open, more +flagitious, more encouraged by the example of a tyrant, and more +protected by his authority. Therefore, wheresoever Juvenal +mentions Nero, he means Domitian, whom he dares not attack in his +own person, but scourges him by proxy. Heinsius urges in +praise of Horace that, according to the ancient art and law of +satire, it should be nearer to comedy than to tragedy; not +declaiming against vice, but only laughing at it. Neither +Persius nor Juvenal was ignorant of this, for they had both +studied Horace. And the thing itself is plainly true. +But as they had read Horace, they had likewise read Lucilius, of +whom Persius says, <i>Secuit urbem</i>; . . . <i>et genuinum +fregit in illis</i>; meaning Mutius and Lupus; and Juvenal also +mentions him in these words:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Ense velut stricto</i>, <i>quoties +Lucilius ardens</i><br /> +<i>Infremuit</i>, <i>rubet auditor</i>, <i>cui frigida mens +est</i><br /> +<i>Criminibus</i>, <i>tacitá sulant præcordia +culpâ</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>So that they thought the imitation of Lucilius was more proper +to their purpose than that of Horace. “They changed +satire,” says Holyday, “but they changed it for the +better; for the business being to reform great vices, +chastisement goes farther than admonition; whereas a perpetual +grin, like that of Horace, does rather anger than amend a +man.”</p> +<p>Thus far that learned critic Barten Holyday, whose +interpretation and illustrations of Juvenal are as excellent as +the verse of his translation and his English are lame and +pitiful; for it is not enough to give us the meaning of a poet +(which I acknowledge him to have performed most faithfully) but +he must also imitate his genius and his numbers as far as the +English will come up to the elegance of the original. In +few words, it is only for a poet to translate a poet. +Holyday and Stapleton had not enough considered this when they +attempted Juvenal; but I forbear reflections: only I beg leave to +take notice of this sentence, where Holyday says, “a +perpetual grin, like that of Horace, rather angers than amends a +man.” I cannot give him up the manner of Horace in +low satire so easily. Let the chastisements of Juvenal be +never so necessary for his new kind of satire, let him declaim as +wittily and sharply as he pleases, yet still the nicest and most +delicate touches of satire consist in fine raillery. This, +my lord, is your particular talent, to which even Juvenal could +not arrive. It is not reading, it is not imitation of, an +author which can produce this fineness; it must be inborn; it +must proceed from a genius, and particular way of thinking, which +is not to be taught, and therefore not to be imitated by him who +has it not from nature. How easy it is to call rogue and +villain, and that wittily! but how hard to make a man appear a +fool, a blockhead, or a knave, without using any of those +opprobrious terms! To spare the grossness of the names, and +to do the thing yet more severely, is to draw a full face and to +make the nose and cheeks stand out, and yet not to employ any +depth of shadowing. This is the mystery of that noble +trade, which yet no master can teach to his apprentice; he may +give the rules, but the scholar is never the nearer in his +practice. Neither is it true that this fineness of raillery +is offensive; a witty man is tickled, while he is hurt in this +manner; and a fool feels it not. The occasion of an offence +may possibly be given, but he cannot take it. If it be +granted that in effect this way does more mischief; that a man is +secretly wounded, and though he be not sensible himself, yet the +malicious world will find it for him; yet there is still a vast +difference betwixt the slovenly butchering of a man, and the +fineness of a stroke that separates the head from the body and +leaves it standing in its place. A man may be capable, as +Jack Ketch’s wife said of his servant, of a plain piece of +work, a bare hanging; but to make a malefactor die sweetly was +only belonging to her husband. I wish I could apply it to +myself, if the reader would be kind enough to think it belongs to +me. The character of Zimri, in my “Absalom” is, +in my opinion, worth the whole poem; it is not bloody, but it is +ridiculous enough; and he for whom it was intended was too witty +to resent it as an injury. If I had railed, I might have +suffered for it justly; but I managed my own work more happily, +perhaps more dexterously. I avoided the mention of great +crimes, and applied myself to the representing of blind-sides and +little extravagances; to which the wittier a man is, he is +generally the more obnoxious. It succeeded as I wished; the +jest went round, and he was laughed at in his turn who began the +frolic.</p> +<p>And thus, my lord, you see I have preferred the manner of +Horace and of your lordship in this kind of satire to that of +Juvenal, and, I think, reasonably. Holyday ought not to +have arraigned so great an author for that which was his +excellency and his merit; or, if he did, on such a palpable +mistake he might expect that some one might possibly arise +(either in his own time, or after him) to rectify his error, and +restore to Horace that commendation of which he has so unjustly +robbed him. And let the manes of Juvenal forgive me if I +say that this way of Horace was the best for amending manners, as +it is the most difficult. His was an <i>ense +rescindendum</i>; but that of Horace was a pleasant cure, with +all the limbs preserved entire, and, as our mountebanks tell us +in their bills, without keeping the patient within doors for a +day. What they promise only, Horace has effectually +performed. Yet I contradict not the proposition which I +formerly advanced. Juvenal’s times required a more +painful kind of operation; but if he had lived in the age of +Horace, I must needs affirm that he had it not about him. +He took the method which was prescribed him by his own genius, +which was sharp and eager; he could not railly, but he could +declaim: and as his provocations were great, he has revenged them +tragically. This, notwithstanding I am to say another word +which, as true as it is, will yet displease the partial admirers +of our Horace; I have hinted it before, but it is time for me now +to speak more plainly.</p> +<p>This manner of Horace is indeed the best; but Horace has not +executed it altogether so happily—at least, not +often. The manner of Juvenal is confessed to be inferior to +the former; but Juvenal has excelled him in his +performance. Juvenal has railed more wittily than Horace +has rallied. Horace means to make his reader laugh, but he +is not sure of his experiment. Juvenal always intends to +move your indignation, and he always brings about his +purpose. Horace, for aught I know, might have tickled the +people of his age, but amongst the moderns he is not so +successful. They who say he entertains so pleasantly, may +perhaps value themselves on the quickness of their own +understandings, that they can see a jest farther off than other +men; they may find occasion of laughter in the wit-battle of the +two buffoons Sarmentus and Cicerrus, and hold their sides for +fear of bursting when Rupilius and Persius are scolding. +For my own part, I can only like the characters of all four, +which are judiciously given; but for my heart I cannot so much as +smile at their insipid raillery. I see not why Persius +should call upon Brutus to revenge him on his adversary; and that +because he had killed Julius Cæsar for endeavouring to be a +king, therefore he should be desired to murder Rupilius, only +because his name was Mr. King. A miserable clench, in my +opinion, for Horace to record; I have heard honest Mr. Swan make +many a better, and yet have had the grace to hold my +countenance. But it may be puns were then in fashion, as +they were wit in the sermons of the last age, and in the court of +King Charles the Second. I am sorry to say it, for the sake +of Horace; but certain it is, he has no fine palate who can feed +so heartily on garbage.</p> +<p>But I have already wearied myself, and doubt not but I have +tired your lordship’s patience, with this long, rambling, +and, I fear, trivial discourse. Upon the one-half of the +merits, that is, pleasure, I cannot but conclude that Juvenal was +the better satirist. They who will descend into his +particular praises may find them at large in the dissertation of +the learned Rigaltius to Thuanus. As for Persius, I have +given the reasons why I think him inferior to both of them; yet I +have one thing to add on that subject.</p> +<p>Barten Holyday, who translated both Juvenal and Persius, has +made this distinction betwixt them, which is no less true than +witty—that in Persius, the difficulty is to find a meaning; +in Juvenal, to choose a meaning; so crabbed is Persius, and so +copious is Juvenal; so much the understanding is employed in one, +and so much the judgment in the other; so difficult is it to find +any sense in the former, and the best sense of the latter.</p> +<p>If, on the other side, any one suppose I have commended Horace +below his merit, when I have allowed him but the second place, I +desire him to consider if Juvenal (a man of excellent natural +endowments, besides the advantages of diligence and study, and +coming after him and building upon his foundations) might not +probably, with all these helps, surpass him; and whether it be +any dishonour to Horace to be thus surpassed, since no art or +science is at once begun and perfected but that it must pass +first through many hands and even through several ages. If +Lucilius could add to Ennius and Horace to Lucilius, why, without +any diminution to the fame of Horace, might not Juvenal give the +last perfection to that work? Or rather, what disreputation +is it to Horace that Juvenal excels in the tragical satire, as +Horace does in the comical? I have read over attentively +both Heinsius and Dacier in their commendations of Horace, but I +can find no more in either of them for the preference of him to +Juvenal than the instructive part (the part of wisdom, and not +that of pleasure), which therefore is here allowed him, +notwithstanding what Scaliger and Rigaltius have pleaded to the +contrary for Juvenal. And to show I am impartial I will +here translate what Dacier has said on that subject:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“I cannot give a more just idea of the two +books of satires made by Horace than by comparing them to the +statues of the Sileni, to which Alcibiades compares Socrates in +the Symposium. They were figures which had nothing of +agreeable, nothing of beauty on their outside; but when any one +took the pains to open them and search into them, he there found +the figures of all the deities. So in the shape that Horace +presents himself to us in his satires we see nothing at the first +view which deserves our attention; it seems that he is rather an +amusement for children than for the serious consideration of +men. But when we take away his crust, and that which hides +him from our sight, when we discover him to the bottom, then we +find all the divinities in a full assembly—that is to say, +all the virtues which ought to be the continual exercise of those +who seriously endeavour to correct their vices.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is easy to observe that Dacier, in this noble similitude, +has confined the praise of his author wholly to the instructive +part the commendation turns on this, and so does that which +follows:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“In these two books of satire it is the +business of Horace to instruct us how to combat our vices, to +regulate our passions, to follow nature, to give bounds to our +desires, to distinguish betwixt truth and falsehood, and betwixt +our conceptions of things and things themselves; to come back +from our prejudicate opinions, to understand exactly the +principles and motives of all our actions; and to avoid the +ridicule into which all men necessarily fall who are intoxicated +with those notions which they have received from their masters, +and which they obstinately retain without examining whether or no +they be founded on right reason.</p> +<p>“In a word, he labours to render us happy in relation to +ourselves; agreeable and faithful to our friends; and discreet, +serviceable, and well-bred in relation to those with whom we are +obliged to live and to converse. To make his figures +intelligible, to conduct his readers through the labyrinth of +some perplexed sentence or obscure parenthesis, is no great +matter; and, as Epictetus says, there is nothing of beauty in all +this, or what is worthy of a prudent man. The principal +business, and which is of most importance to us, is to show the +use, the reason, and the proof of his precepts.</p> +<p>“They who endeavour not to correct themselves according +to so exact a model are just like the patients who have open +before them a book of admirable receipts for their diseases, and +please themselves with reading it without comprehending the +nature of the remedies or how to apply them to their +cure.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Let Horace go off with these encomiums, which he has so well +deserved.</p> +<p>To conclude the contention betwixt our three poets I will use +the words of Virgil in his fifth Æneid, where Æneas +proposes the rewards of the foot-race to the three first who +should reach the goal:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Tres +præmia primi</i> . . .<br /> +<i>Accipient</i>, <i>flauâque caput nectentur +olivâ</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Let these three ancients be preferred to all the moderns as +first arriving at the goal; let them all be crowned as victors +with the wreath that properly belongs to satire. But after +that, with this distinction amongst themselves:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Primus equum phaleris insignem victor +habeto</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Let Juvenal ride first in triumph.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Alter Amazoniam pharetram</i>, +<i>plenamque sagittis</i><br /> +<i>Threiciis</i>, <i>lato quam circumplectitur auro</i><br /> +<i>Balteus</i>, <i>et tereti subnectit fibula +gemmâ</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Let Horace, who is the second (and but just the second), carry +off the quiver and the arrows as the badges of his satire, and +the golden belt and the diamond button.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Tertius Argolico hoc clypeo contentus +abito</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And let Persius, the last of the first three worthies, be +contented with this Grecian shield, and with victory—not +only over all the Grecians, who were ignorant of the Roman +satire—but over all the moderns in succeeding ages, +excepting Boileau and your lordship.</p> +<p>And thus I have given the history of satire, and derived it as +far as from Ennius to your lordship—that is, from its first +rudiments of barbarity to its last polishing and perfection; +which is, with Virgil, in his address to Augustus—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Nomen +famâ tot ferre per annos</i>, . . .<br /> +<i>Tithoni primâ quot abest ab origine +Cæsar</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I said only from Ennius, but I may safely carry it higher, as +far as Livius Andronicus, who, as I have said formerly, taught +the first play at Rome in the year <i>ab urbe conditâ</i> +CCCCCXIV. I have since desired my learned friend Mr. +Maidwell to compute the difference of times betwixt Aristophanes +and Livius Andronicus; and he assures me from the best +chronologers that <i>Plutus</i>, the last of Aristophanes’ +plays, was represented at Athens in the year of the 97th +Olympiad, which agrees with the year <i>urbis conditæ</i> +CCCLXIV. So that the difference of years betwixt +Aristophanes and Andronicus is 150; from whence I have probably +deduced that Livius Andronicus, who was a Grecian, had read the +plays of the old comedy, which were satirical, and also of the +new; for Menander was fifty years before him, which must needs be +a great light to him in his own plays that were of the satirical +nature. That the Romans had farces before this, it is true; +but then they had no communication with Greece; so that +Andronicus was the first who wrote after the manner of the old +comedy, in his plays: he was imitated by Ennius about thirty +years afterwards. Though the former writ fables, the +latter, speaking properly, began the Roman satire, according to +that description which Juvenal gives of it in his +first:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Quicquid agunt homines</i>, +<i>votum</i>, <i>timor</i>, <i>ira voluptas</i>,<br /> +<i>Gaudia</i>, <i>discurses</i>, <i>nostri est farrago +libelli</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This is that in which I have made hold to differ from +Casaubon, Rigaltius, Dacier, and indeed from all the modern +critics—that not Ennius, but Andronicus, was the first who, +by the <i>archæa comedia</i> of the Greeks, added many +beauties to the first rude and barbarous Roman satire; which sort +of poem, though we had not derived from Rome, yet nature teaches +it mankind in all ages and in every country.</p> +<p>It is but necessary that, after so much has been said of +satire, some definition of it should be given. Heinsius, in +his Dissertations on Horace, makes it for me in these +words:—“Satire is a kind of poetry, without a series +of action, invented for the purging of our minds; in which human +vices, ignorance, and errors, and all things besides which are +produced from them in every man, are severely +reprehended—partly dramatically, partly simply, and +sometimes in both kinds of speaking, but for the most part +figuratively and occultly; consisting, in a low familiar way, +chiefly in a sharp and pungent manner of speech, but partly also +in a facetious and civil way of jesting, by which either hatred +or laughter or indignation is moved.” Where I cannot +but observe that this obscure and perplexed definition, or rather +description of satire, is wholly accommodated to the Horatian +way, and excluding the works of Juvenal and Persius as foreign +from that kind of poem. The clause in the beginning of it, +“without a series of action,” distinguishes satire +properly from stage-plays, which are all of one action and one +continued series of action. The end or scope of satire is +to purge the passions; so far it is common to the satires of +Juvenal and Persius. The rest which follows is also +generally belonging to all three, till he comes upon us with the +excluding clause, “consisting, in a low familiar way of +speech” which is the proper character of Horace, and from +which the other two (for their honour be it spoken) are far +distant. But how come lowness of style and the familiarity +of words to be so much the propriety of satire that without them +a poet can be no more a satirist than without risibility he can +be a man? Is the fault of Horace to be made the virtue and +standing rule of this poem? Is the <i>grande sophos</i> of +Persius, and the sublimity of Juvenal, to be circumscribed with +the meanness of words and vulgarity of expression? If +Horace refused the pains of numbers and the loftiness of figures +are they bound to follow so ill a precedent? Let him walk +afoot with his pad in his hand for his own pleasure, but let not +them be accounted no poets who choose to mount and show their +horsemanship. Holyday is not afraid to say that there was +never such a fall as from his odes to his satires, and that he, +injuriously to himself, untuned his harp. The majestic way +of Persius and Juvenal was new when they began it, but it is old +to us; and what poems have not, with time, received an alteration +in their fashion?—“which alteration,” says +Holyday, “is to after-times as good a warrant as the +first.” Has not Virgil changed the manners of +Homer’s heroes in his Æneis? Certainly he has, +and for the better; for Virgil’s age was more civilised and +better bred, and he writ according to the politeness of Rome +under the reign of Augustus Cæsar, not to the rudeness of +Agamemnon’s age or the times of Homer. Why should we +offer to confine free spirits to one form when we cannot so much +as confine our bodies to one fashion of apparel? Would not +Donne’s satires, which abound with so much wit, appear more +charming if he had taken care of his words and of his +numbers? But he followed Horace so very close that of +necessity he must fall with him; and I may safely say it of this +present age, that if we are not so great wits as Donne, yet +certainly we are better poets.</p> +<p>But I have said enough, and it may be too much, on this +subject. Will your lordship be pleased to prolong my +audience only so far till I tell you my own trivial thoughts how +a modern satire should be made? I will not deviate in the +least from the precepts and examples of the ancients, who were +always our best masters; I will only illustrate them, and +discover some of the hidden beauties in their designs, that we +thereby may form our own in imitation of them. Will you +please but to observe that Persius, the least in dignity of all +the three, has, notwithstanding, been the first who has +discovered to us this important secret in the designing of a +perfect satire—that it ought only to treat of one subject; +to be confined to one particular theme, or, at least, to one +principally? If other vices occur in the management of the +chief, they should only be transiently lashed, and not be +insisted on, so as to make the design double. As in a play +of the English fashion which we call a tragicomedy, there is to +be but one main design, and though there be an under-plot or +second walk of comical characters and adventures, yet they are +subservient to the chief fable, carried along under it and +helping to it, so that the drama may not seem a monster with two +heads. Thus the Copernican system of the planets makes the +moon to be moved by the motion of the earth, and carried about +her orb as a dependent of hers. Mascardi, in his discourse +of the “Doppia Favola,” or double tale in plays, +gives an instance of it in the famous pastoral of Guarini, called +<i>Il Pastor Fido</i>, where Corisca and the Satyr are the +under-parts; yet we may observe that Corisca is brought into the +body of the plot and made subservient to it. It is certain +that the divine wit of Horace was not ignorant of this +rule—that a play, though it consists of many parts, must +yet be one in the action, and must drive on the accomplishment of +one design—for he gives this very precept, <i>Sit quod vis +simplex duntaxat</i>, <i>et unum</i>; yet he seems not much to +mind it in his satires, many of them consisting of more arguments +than one, and the second without dependence on the first. +Casaubon has observed this before me in his preference of Persius +to Horace, and will have his own beloved author to be the first +who found out and introduced this method of confining himself to +one subject.</p> +<p>I know it may be urged in defence of Horace that this unity is +not necessary, because the very word <i>satura</i> signifies a +dish plentifully stored with all variety of fruits and +grains. Yet Juvenal, who calls his poems a <i>farrago</i> +(which is a word of the same signification with <i>satura</i>), +has chosen to follow the same method of Persius and not of +Horace; and Boileau, whose example alone is a sufficient +authority, has wholly confined himself in all his satires to this +unity of design. That variety which is not to be found in +any one satire is at least in many, written on several occasions; +and if variety be of absolute necessity in every one of them, +according to the etymology of the word, yet it may arise +naturally from one subject, as it is diversely treated in the +several subordinate branches of it, all relating to the +chief. It may be illustrated accordingly with variety of +examples in the subdivisions of it, and with as many precepts as +there are members of it, which all together may complete that +<i>olla</i> or hotch-potch which is properly a satire.</p> +<p>Under this unity of theme or subject is comprehended another +rule for perfecting the design of true satire. The poet is +bound, and that <i>ex officio</i>, to give his reader some one +precept of moral virtue, and to caution him against some one +particular vice or folly. Other virtues, subordinate to the +first, may be recommended under that chief head, and other vices +or follies may be scourged, besides that which he principally +intends; but he is chiefly to inculcate one virtue, and insist on +that. Thus Juvenal, in every satire excepting the first, +ties himself to one principal instructive point, or to the +shunning of moral evil. Even in the sixth, which seems only +an arraignment of the whole sex of womankind, there is a latent +admonition to avoid ill women, by showing how very few who are +virtuous and good are to be found amongst them. But this, +though the wittiest of all his satires, has yet the least of +truth or instruction in it; he has run himself into his old +declamatory way, and almost forgotten that he was now setting up +for a moral poet.</p> +<p>Persius is never wanting to us in some profitable doctrine, +and in exposing the opposite vices to it. His kind of +philosophy is one, which is the Stoic, and every satire is a +comment on one particular dogma of that sect, unless we will +except the first, which is against bad writers; and yet even +there he forgets not the precepts of the +“porch.” In general, all virtues are everywhere +to be praised and recommended to practice, and all vices to be +reprehended and made either odious or ridiculous, or else there +is a fundamental error in the whole design.</p> +<p>I have already declared who are the only persons that are the +adequate object of private satire, and who they are that may +properly be exposed by name for public examples of vices and +follies, and therefore I will trouble your lordship no further +with them. Of the best and finest manner of satire, I have +said enough in the comparison betwixt Juvenal and Horace; it is +that sharp well-mannered way of laughing a folly out of +countenance, of which your lordship is the best master in this +age. I will proceed to the versification which is most +proper for it, and add somewhat to what I have said already on +that subject. The sort of verse which is called +“burlesque,” consisting of eight syllables or four +feet, is that which our excellent Hudibras has chosen. I +ought to have mentioned him before when I spoke of Donne, but by +a slip of an old man’s memory he was forgotten. The +worth of his poem is too well known to need my commendation, and +he is above my censure. His satire is of the Varronian +kind, though unmixed with prose. The choice of his numbers +is suitable enough to his design as he has managed it; but in any +other hand the shortness of his verse, and the quick returns of +rhyme, had debased the dignity of style. And besides, the +double rhyme (a necessary companion of burlesque writing) is not +so proper for manly satire, for it turns earnest too much to +jest, and gives us a boyish kind of pleasure. It tickles +awkwardly, with a kind of pain to the best sort of readers; we +are pleased ungratefully, and, if I may say so, against our +liking. We thank him not for giving us that unseasonable +delight, when we know he could have given us a better and more +solid. He might have left that task to others who, not +being able to put in thought, can only makes us grin with the +excrescence of a word of two or three syllables in the +close. It is, indeed, below so great a master to make use +of such a little instrument. But his good sense is +perpetually shining through all he writes; it affords us not the +time of finding faults: we pass through the levity of his rhyme, +and are immediately carried into some admirable useful +thought. After all, he has chosen this kind of verse, and +has written the best in it, and had he taken another he would +always have excelled; as we say of a court favourite, that +whatsoever his office be, he still makes it uppermost and most +beneficial to himself.</p> +<p>The quickness of your imagination, my lord, has already +prevented me; and you know beforehand that I would prefer the +verse of ten syllables, which we call the English heroic, to that +of eight. This is truly my opinion, for this sort of number +is more roomy; the thought can turn itself with greater ease in a +larger compass. When the rhyme comes too thick upon us, it +straitens the expression; we are thinking of the close when we +should be employed in adorning the thought. It makes a poet +giddy with turning in a space too narrow for his imagination; he +loses many beauties without gaining one advantage. For a +burlesque rhyme I have already concluded to be none; or, if it +were, it is more easily purchased in ten syllables than in +eight. In both occasions it is as in a tennis-court, when +the strokes of greater force are given, when we strike out and +play at length. Tassoni and Boileau have left us the best +examples of this way in the “Seechia Rapita” and the +“Lutrin,” and next them Merlin Cocaius in his +“Baldus.” I will speak only of the two former, +because the last is written in Latin verse. The +“Secchia Rapita” is an Italian poem, a satire of the +Varronian kind. It is written in the stanza of eight, which +is their measure for heroic verse. The words are stately, +the numbers smooth; the turn both of thoughts and words is +happy. The first six lines of the stanza seem majestical +and severe, but the two last turn them all into a pleasant +ridicule. Boileau, if I am not much deceived, has modelled +from hence his famous “Lutrin.” He had read the +burlesque poetry of Scarron with some kind of indignation, as +witty as it was, and found nothing in France that was worthy of +his imitation; but he copied the Italian so well that his own may +pass for an original. He writes it in the French heroic +verse, and calls it an heroic poem; his subject is trivial, but +his verse is noble. I doubt not but he had Virgil in his +eye, for we find many admirable imitations of him, and some +parodies, as particularly this passage in the fourth of the +Æneids—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Nec tibi diva parens</i>, <i>generis nec +Dardanus auctor</i>,<br /> +<i>Perfide</i>; <i>sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens</i><br /> +<i>Caucasus</i>, <i>Hyrrcanæque admôrunt ubera +tigres</i>:”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>which he thus translates, keeping to the words, but altering +the sense:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Non</i>, <i>ton père à +Paris</i>, <i>ne fut point boulanger</i>:<br /> +<i>Et tu n’es point du sang de Gervais</i>, +<i>l’horloger</i>;<br /> +<i>Ta mère ne fut point la maîtresse d’un +coche</i>;<br /> +<i>Caucase dans ses flancs te forma d’une +roché</i>;<br /> +<i>Une tigresse affreuse</i>, <i>en quelque antre +écarté</i>,<br /> +<i>Te fit</i>, <i>avec son lait</i>, <i>succer sa +cruauté</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And as Virgil in his fourth Georgic of the bees, perpetually +raises the lowness of his subject by the loftiness of his words, +and ennobles it by comparisons drawn from empires and from +monarchs—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Admiranda tibi levium spectacula +rerum</i>,<br /> +<i>Magnanimosque duces</i>, <i>totiusque ordine gentis</i><br /> +<i>Mores et studia</i>, <i>et populos</i>, <i>et prælia +dicam</i>;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and again—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>At genus immortale manet</i>, +<i>multosque per annos</i><br /> +<i>Stat fortuna domûs</i>, <i>et avi numerantur +avorum</i>;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>we see Boileau pursuing him in the same flights, and scarcely +yielding to his master. This I think, my lord, to be the +most beautiful and most noble kind of satire. Here is the +majesty of the heroic finely mixed with the venom of the other, +and raising the delight, which otherwise would be flat and +vulgar, by the sublimity of the expression. I could say +somewhat more of the delicacy of this and some other of his +satires, but it might turn to his prejudice if it were carried +back to France.</p> +<p>I have given your lordship but this bare hint—in what +verse and in what manner this sort of satire may be best +managed. Had I time I could enlarge on the beautiful turns +of words and thoughts which are as requisite in this as in heroic +poetry itself, of which the satire is undoubtedly a +species. With these beautiful turns I confess myself to +have been unacquainted till about twenty years ago. In a +conversation which I had with that noble wit of Scotland, Sir +George Mackenzie, he asked me why I did not imitate in my verses +the turns of Mr. Waller and Sir John Denham, of which he repeated +many to me. I had often read with pleasure, and with some +profit, those two fathers of our English poetry, but had not +seriously enough considered those beauties which give the last +perfection to their works. Some sprinklings of this kind I +had also formerly in my plays; but they were casual, and not +designed. But this hint, thus seasonably given me, first +made me sensible of my own wants, and brought me afterwards to +seek for the supply of them in other English authors. I +looked over the darling of my youth, the famous Cowley; there I +found, instead of them, the points of wit and quirks of epigram, +even in the “Davideis” (an heroic poem which is of an +opposite nature to those puerilities), but no elegant turns, +either on the word or on the thought. Then I consulted a +greater genius (without offence to the manes of that noble +author)—I mean Milton; but as he endeavours everywhere to +express Homer, whose age had not arrived to that fineness, I +found in him a true sublimity, lofty thoughts which were clothed +with admirable Grecisms and ancient words, which he had been +digging from the minds of Chaucer and Spenser, and which, with +all their rusticity, had somewhat of venerable in them. But +I found not there neither that for which I looked. At last +I had recourse to his master, Spenser, the author of that +immortal poem called the “Faerie Queen,” and there I +met with that which I had been looking for so long in vain. +Spenser had studied Virgil to as much advantage as Milton had +done Homer, and amongst the rest of his excellences had copied +that. Looking farther into the Italian, I found Tasso had +done the same; nay, more, that all the sonnets in that language +are on the turn of the first thought—which Mr. Walsh, in +his late ingenious preface to his poems, has observed. In +short, Virgil and Ovid are the two principal fountains of them in +Latin poetry. And the French at this day are so fond of +them that they judge them to be the first beauties; +<i>delicate</i>, <i>et bien tourné</i>, are the highest +commendations which they bestow on somewhat which they think a +masterpiece.</p> +<p>An example of the turn of words, amongst a thousand others, is +that in the last book of Ovid’s +“Metamorphoses”:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Heu</i>! <i>quantum scelus est</i>, +<i>in viscera</i>, <i>viscera condi</i>!<br /> +<i>Congestoque avidum pinguescere corpore corpus</i>;<br /> +<i>Alteriusque animantem animantis vivere leto</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>An example on the turn both of thoughts and words is to be +found in Catullus in the complaint of Ariadne when she was left +by Theseus:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Tum jam nulla viro juranti fæmina +credat</i>;<br /> +<i>Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles</i>;<br /> +<i>Qui</i>, <i>dum aliquid cupiens animus prægestit +apisci</i>,<br /> +<i>Nil metuunt jurare</i>, <i>nihil promittere parcunt</i>:<br /> +<i>Sed simul ac cupidæ mentis satiata libido est</i>,<br /> +<i>Dicta nihil metuere</i>, <i>nihil perjuria +curant</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>An extraordinary turn upon the words is that in Ovid’s +“Epistolæ Heroidum” of Sappho to +Phaon:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Si</i>, <i>nisi quæ formâ +poterit te digna videri</i>,<br /> +<i>Nulla futura tua est</i>, <i>nulla futura tua +est</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Lastly a turn, which I cannot say is absolutely on +words—for the thought turns with them—is in the +fourth Georgic of Virgil, where Orpheus is to receive his wife +from hell on express condition not to look on her till she was +come on earth:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Cum subita incautum dementia cepit +amantem;<br /> +Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere Manes.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I will not burthen your lordship with more of them, for I +write to a master who understands them better than myself; but I +may safely conclude them to be great beauties. I might +descend also to the mechanic beauties of heroic verse; but we +have yet no English Prosodia, not so much as a tolerable +dictionary or a grammar (so that our language is in a manner +barbarous); and what Government will encourage any one, or more, +who are capable of refining it, I know not: but nothing under a +public expense can go through with it. And I rather fear a +declination of the language than hope an advancement of it in the +present age.</p> +<p>I am still speaking to you, my lord, though in all probability +you are already out of hearing. Nothing which my meanness +can produce is worthy of this long attention. But I am come +to the last petition of Abraham: if there be ten righteous lines +in this vast preface, spare it for their sake; and also spare the +next city, because it is but a little one.</p> +<p>I would excuse the performance of this translation if it were +all my own; but the better, though not the greater, part being +the work of some gentlemen who have succeeded very happily in +their undertaking, let their excellences atone for my +imperfections and those of my sons. I have perused some of +the Satires which are done by other hands, and they seem to me as +perfect in their kind as anything I have seen in English +verse. The common way which we have taken is not a literal +translation, but a kind of paraphrase; or somewhat which is yet +more loose, betwixt a paraphrase and imitation. It was not +possible for us, or any men, to have made it pleasant any other +way. If rendering the exact sense of these authors, almost +line for line, had been our business, Barten Holyday had done it +already to our hands; and by the help of his learned notes and +illustrations, not only Juvenal and Persius, but, what yet is +more obscure, his own verses might be understood.</p> +<p>But he wrote for fame, and wrote to scholars; we write only +for the pleasure and entertainment of those gentlemen and ladies +who, though they are not scholars, are not ignorant—persons +of understanding and good sense, who, not having been conversant +in the original (or, at least, not having made Latin verse so +much their business as to be critics in it), would be glad to +find if the wit of our two great authors be answerable to their +fame and reputation in the world. We have therefore +endeavoured to give the public all the satisfaction we are able +in this kind.</p> +<p>And if we are not altogether so faithful to our author as our +predecessors Holyday and Stapleton, yet we may challenge to +ourselves this praise—that we shall be far more pleasing to +our readers. We have followed our authors at greater +distance, though not step by step as they have done; for +oftentimes they have gone so close that they have trod on the +heels of Juvenal and Persius, and hurt them by their too near +approach. A noble author would not be pursued too close by +a translator. We lose his spirit when we think to take his +body. The grosser part remains with us, but the soul is +flown away in some noble expression, or some delicate turn of +words or thought. Thus Holyday, who made this way his +choice, seized the meaning of Juvenal, but the poetry has always +escaped him.</p> +<p>They who will not grant me that pleasure is one of the ends of +poetry, but that it is only a means of compassing the only end +(which is instruction), must yet allow that without the means of +pleasure the instruction is but a bare and dry philosophy, a +crude preparation of morals which we may have from Aristotle and +Epictetus with more profit than from any poet. Neither +Holyday nor Stapleton have imitated Juvenal in the poetical part +of him, his diction, and his elocution. Nor, had they been +poets (as neither of them were), yet in the way they took, it was +impossible for them to have succeeded in the poetic part.</p> +<p>The English verse which we call heroic consists of no more +than ten syllables; the Latin hexameter sometimes rises to +seventeen; as, for example, this verse in Virgil:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Pulverulenta putrem sonitu quatit ungula +campum.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here is the difference of no less than seven syllables in a +line betwixt the English and the Latin. Now the medium of +these is about fourteen syllables, because the dactyl is a more +frequent foot in hexameters than the spondee. But Holyday +(without considering that he writ with the disadvantage of four +syllables less in every verse) endeavours to make one of his +lines to comprehend the sense of one of Juvenal’s. +According to the falsity of the proposition was the +success. He was forced to crowd his verse with ill-sounding +monosyllables (of which our barbarous language affords him a wild +plenty), and by that means he arrived at his pedantic end, which +was to make a literal translation. His verses have nothing +of verse in them, but only the worst part of it—the rhyme; +and that, into the bargain, is far from good. But, which is +more intolerable, by cramming his ill-chosen and worse-sounding +monosyllables so close together, the very sense which he +endeavours to explain is become more obscure than that of his +author; so that Holyday himself cannot be understood without as +large a commentary as that which he makes on his two +authors. For my own part, I can make a shift to find the +meaning of Juvenal without his notes, but his translation is more +difficult than his author. And I find beauties in the Latin +to recompense my pains; but in Holyday and Stapleton my ears, in +the first place, are mortally offended, and then their sense is +so perplexed that I return to the original as the more pleasing +task as well as the more easy.</p> +<p>This must be said for our translation—that if we give +not the whole sense of Juvenal, yet we give the most considerable +part of it; we give it, in general, so clearly that few notes are +sufficient to make us intelligible. We make our author at +least appear in a poetic dress. We have actually made him +more sounding and more elegant than he was before in English, and +have endeavoured to make him speak that kind of English which he +would have spoken had he lived in England and had written to this +age. If sometimes any of us (and it is but seldom) make him +express the customs and manners of our native country rather than +of Rome, it is either when there was some kind of analogy betwixt +their customs and ours, or when (to make him more easy to vulgar +understandings) we gave him those manners which are familiar to +us. But I defend not this innovation; it is enough if I can +excuse it. For (to speak sincerely) the manners of nations +and ages are not to be confounded; we should either make them +English or leave them Roman. If this can neither be +defended nor excused, let it be pardoned at least, because it is +acknowledged; and so much the more easily as being a fault which +is never committed without some pleasure to the reader.</p> +<p>Thus, my lord, having troubled you with a tedious visit, the +best manners will be shown in the least ceremony. I will +slip away while your back is turned, and while you are otherwise +employed; with great confusion for having entertained you so long +with this discourse, and for having no other recompense to make +you than the worthy labours of my fellow-undertakers in this +work, and the thankful acknowledgments, prayers, and perpetual +good wishes of,</p> +<p>My Lord,</p> +<p style="text-align: center">Your Lordship’s</p> +<p style="text-align: right">Most obliged, most humble, and<br /> +Most obedient servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">John +Dryden</span>.</p> +<h2>A DISCOURSE ON EPIC POETRY.</h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">ADDRESSED TO +THE MOST HONOURABLE</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">JOHN, LORD MARQUIS OF NORMANBY,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">EARL OF +MULGRAVE, ETC., AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE +GARTER.</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">An heroic</span> poem (truly such) is +undoubtedly the greatest work which the soul of man is capable to +perform. The design of it is to form the mind to heroic +virtue by example; it is conveyed in verse that it may delight +while it instructs. The action of it is always one, entire, +and great. The least and most trivial episodes or +under-actions which are interwoven in it are parts either +necessary or convenient to carry on the main design—either +so necessary that without them the poem must be imperfect, or so +convenient that no others can be imagined more suitable to the +place in which they are. There is nothing to be left void +in a firm building; even the cavities ought not to be filled with +rubbish which is of a perishable kind—destructive to the +strength—but with brick or stone (though of less pieces, +yet of the same nature), and fitted to the crannies. Even +the least portions of them must be of the epic kind; all things +must be grave, majestical, and sublime; nothing of a foreign +nature, like the trifling novels which Ariosto and others have +inserted in their poems, by which the reader is misled into +another sort of pleasure, opposite to that which is designed in +an epic poem. One raises the soul and hardens it to virtue; +the other softens it again and unbends it into vice. One +conduces to the poet’s aim (the completing of his work), +which he is driving on, labouring, and hastening in every line; +the other slackens his pace, diverts him from his way, and locks +him up like a knight-errant in an enchanted castle when he should +be pursuing his first adventure. Statius (as Bossu has well +observed) was ambitions of trying his strength with his master, +Virgil, as Virgil had before tried his with Homer. The +Grecian gave the two Romans an example in the games which were +celebrated at the funerals of Patroclus. Virgil imitated +the invention of Homer, but changed the sports. But both +the Greek and Latin poet took their occasions from the subject, +though (to confess the truth) they were both ornamental, or, at +best, convenient parts of it, rather than of necessity arising +from it. Statius (who through his whole poem is noted for +want of conduct and judgment), instead of staying, as he might +have done, for the death of Capaneus, Hippomedon, Tydeus, or some +other of his Seven Champions (who are heroes all alike), or more +properly for the tragical end of the two brothers whose exequies +the next successor had leisure to perform when the siege was +raised, and in the interval betwixt the poet’s first action +and his second, went out of his way—as it were, on prepense +malice—to commit a fault; for he took his opportunity to +kill a royal infant by the means of a serpent (that author of all +evil) to make way for those funeral honours which he intended for +him. Now if this innocent had been of any relation to his +Thebais, if he had either farthered or hindered the taking of the +town, the poet might have found some sorry excuse at least for +detaining the reader from the promised siege. On these +terms this Capaneus of a poet engaged his two immortal +predecessors, and his success was answerable to his +enterprise.</p> +<p>If this economy must be observed in the minutest parts of an +epic poem, which to a common reader seem to be detached from the +body, and almost independent of it, what soul, though sent into +the world with great advantages of nature, cultivated with the +liberal arts and sciences, conversant with histories of the dead, +and enriched with observations on the living, can be sufficient +to inform the whole body of so great a work? I touch here +but transiently, without any strict method, on some few of those +many rules of imitating nature which Aristotle drew from +Homer’s “Iliads” and “Odysses,” and +which he fitted to the drama—furnishing himself also with +observations from the practice of the theatre when it flourished +under Æschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles (for the original +of the stage was from the epic poem). Narration, doubtless, +preceded acting, and gave laws to it. What at first was +told artfully was in process of time represented gracefully to +the sight and hearing. Those episodes of Homer which were +proper for the stage, the poets amplified each into an +action. Out of his limbs they formed their bodies; what he +had contracted, they enlarged; out of one Hercules were made +infinity of pigmies, yet all endued with human souls; for from +him, their great creator, they have each of them the +<i>divinæ particulam auræ</i>. They flowed from +him at first, and are at last resolved into him. Nor were +they only animated by him, but their measure and symmetry was +owing to him. His one, entire, and great action was copied +by them, according to the proportions of the drama. If he +finished his orb within the year, it sufficed to teach them that +their action being less, and being also less diversified with +incidents, their orb, of consequence, must be circumscribed in a +less compass, which they reduced within the limits either of a +natural or an artificial day. So that, as he taught them to +amplify what he had shortened, by the same rule applied the +contrary way he taught them to shorten what he had +amplified. Tragedy is the miniature of human life; an epic +poem is the draft at length. Here, my lord, I must contract +also, for before I was aware I was almost running into a long +digression to prove that there is no such absolute necessity that +the time of a stage-action should so strictly be confined to +twenty-four hours as never to exceed them (for which Aristotle +contends, and the Grecian stage has practised). Some longer +space on some occasions, I think, may be allowed, especially for +the English theatre, which requires more variety of incidents +than the French. Corneille himself, after long practice, +was inclined to think that the time allotted by the ancients was +too short to raise and finish a great action; and better a +mechanic rule were stretched or broken than a great beauty were +omitted. To raise, and afterwards to calm, the passions; to +purge the soul from pride by the examples of human miseries which +befall the greatest; in few words, to expel arrogance and +introduce compassion, are the great effects of +tragedy—great, I must confess, if they were altogether as +true as they are pompous. But are habits to be introduced +at three hours’ warning? Are radical diseases so +suddenly removed? A mountebank may promise such a cure, but +a skilful physician will not undertake it. An epic poem is +not in so much haste; it works leisurely: the changes which it +makes are slow, but the cure is likely to be more perfect. +The effects of tragedy, as I said, are too violent to be +lasting. If it be answered, that for this reason tragedies +are often to be seen, and the dose to be repeated, this is +tacitly to confess that there is more virtue in one heroic poem +than in many tragedies. A man is humbled one day, and his +pride returns the next. Chemical medicines are observed to +relieve oftener than to cure; for it is the nature of spirits to +make swift impressions, but not deep. Galenical decoctions, +to which I may properly compare an epic poem, have more of body +in them; they work by their substance and their weight.</p> +<p>It is one reason of Aristotle’s to prove that tragedy is +the more noble, because it turns in a shorter compass—the +whole action being circumscribed within the space of +four-and-twenty hours. He might prove as well that a +mushroom is to be preferred before a peach, because it shoots up +in the compass of a night. A chariot may be driven round +the pillar in less space than a large machine, because the bulk +is not so great. Is the moon a more noble planet than +Saturn, because she makes her revolution in less than thirty +days, and he in little less than thirty years? Both their +orbs are in proportion to their several magnitudes; and +consequently the quickness or slowness of their motion, and the +time of their circumvolutions, is no argument of the greater or +less perfection. And besides, what virtue is there in a +tragedy which is not contained in an epic poem, where pride is +humbled, virtue rewarded, and vice punished, and those more amply +treated than the narrowness of the drama can admit? The +shining quality of an epic hero, his magnanimity, his constancy, +his patience, his piety, or whatever characteristical virtue his +poet gives him, raises first our admiration; we are naturally +prone to imitate what we admire, and frequent acts produce a +habit. If the hero’s chief quality be +vicious—as, for example, the choler and obstinate desire of +vengeance in Achilles—yet the moral is instructive; and +besides, we are informed in the very proposition of the +“Iliads” that this anger was pernicious, that it +brought a thousand ills on the Grecian camp. The courage of +Achilles is proposed to imitation, not his pride and disobedience +to his general; nor his brutal cruelty to his dead enemy, nor the +selling his body to his father. We abhor these actions +while we read them, and what we abhor we never imitate; the poet +only shows them, like rocks or quicksands to be shunned.</p> +<p>By this example the critics have concluded that it is not +necessary the manners of the hero should be virtuous (they are +poetically good if they are of a piece); though where a character +of perfect virtue is set before us, it is more lovely; for there +the whole hero is to be imitated. This is the Æneas +of our author; this is that idea of perfection in an epic poem +which painters and statuaries have only in their minds, and which +no hands are able to express. These are the beauties of a +God in a human body. When the picture of Achilles is drawn +in tragedy, he is taken with those warts and moles and hard +features by those who represent him on the stage, or he is no +more Achilles; for his creator, Homer, has so described +him. Yet even thus he appears a perfect hero, though an +imperfect character of virtue. Horace paints him after +Homer, and delivers him to be copied on the stage with all those +imperfections. Therefore they are either not faults in an +heroic poem, or faults common to the drama.</p> +<p>After all, on the whole merits of the cause, it must be +acknowledged that the epic poem is more for the manners, and +tragedy for the passions. The passions, as I have said, are +violent; and acute distempers require medicines of a strong and +speedy operation. Ill habits of the mind are, like +chronical diseases, to be corrected by degrees, and cured by +alteratives; wherein, though purges are sometimes necessary, yet +diet, good air, and moderate exercise have the greatest +part. The matter being thus stated, it will appear that +both sorts of poetry are of use for their proper ends. The +stage is more active, the epic poem works at greater leisure; yet +is active too when need requires, for dialogue is imitated by the +drama from the more active parts of it. One puts off a fit, +like the quinquina, and relieves us only for a time; the other +roots out the distemper, and gives a healthful habit. The +sun enlightens and cheers us, dispels fogs, and warms the ground +with his daily beams; but the corn is sowed, increases, is +ripened, and is reaped for use in process of time and in its +proper season.</p> +<p>I proceed from the greatness of the action to the dignity of +the actors—I mean, to the persons employed in both +poems. There likewise tragedy will be seen to borrow from +the epopee; and that which borrows is always of less dignity, +because it has not of its own. A subject, it is true, may +lend to his sovereign; but the act of borrowing makes the king +inferior, because he wants and the subject supplies. And +suppose the persons of the drama wholly fabulous, or of the +poet’s invention, yet heroic poetry gave him the examples +of that invention, because it was first, and Homer the common +father of the stage. I know not of any one advantage which +tragedy can boast above heroic poetry but that it is represented +to the view as well as read, and instructs in the closet as well +as on the theatre. This is an uncontended excellence, and a +chief branch of its prerogative; yet I may be allowed to say +without partiality that herein the actors share the poet’s +praise. Your lordship knows some modern tragedies which are +beautiful on the stage, and yet I am confident you would not read +them. Tryphon the stationer complains they are seldom asked +for in his shop. The poet who flourished in the scene is +damned in the <i>ruelle</i>; nay, more, he is not esteemed a good +poet by those who see and hear his extravagances with +delight. They are a sort of stately fustian and lofty +childishness. Nothing but nature can give a sincere +pleasure; where that is not imitated, it is grotesque painting; +the fine woman ends in a fish’s tail.</p> +<p>I might also add that many things which not only please, but +are real beauties in the reading, would appear absurd upon the +stage; and those not only the <i>speciosa miracula</i>, as Horace +calls them, of transformations of Scylla, Antiphates, and the +Læstrygons (which cannot be represented even in operas), +but the prowess of Achilles or Æneas would appear +ridiculous in our dwarf-heroes of the theatre. We can +believe they routed armies in Homer or in Virgil, but <i>ne +Hercules contra duos</i> in the drama. I forbear to +instance in many things which the stage cannot or ought not to +represent; for I have said already more than I intended on this +subject, and should fear it might be turned against me that I +plead for the pre-eminence of epic poetry because I have taken +some pains in translating Virgil, if this were the first time +that I had delivered my opinion in this dispute; but I have more +than once already maintained the rights of my two masters against +their rivals of the scene, even while I wrote tragedies myself +and had no thoughts of this present undertaking. I submit +my opinion to your judgment, who are better qualified than any +man I know to decide this controversy. You come, my lord, +instructed in the cause, and needed not that I should open +it. Your “Essay of Poetry,” which was published +without a name, and of which I was not honoured with the +confidence, I read over and over with much delight and as much +instruction, and without flattering you, or making myself more +moral than I am, not without some envy. I was loth to be +informed how an epic poem should be written, or how a tragedy +should be contrived and managed, in better verse and with more +judgment than I could teach others. A native of Parnassus, +and bred up in the studies of its fundamental laws, may receive +new lights from his contemporaries, but it is a grudging kind of +praise which he gives his benefactors. He is more obliged +than he is willing to acknowledge; there is a tincture of malice +in his commendations: for where I own I am taught, I confess my +want of knowledge. A judge upon the bench may, out of good +nature, or, at least, interest, encourage the pleadings of a puny +counsellor, but he does not willingly commend his +brother-serjeant at the bar, especially when he controls his law, +and exposes that ignorance which is made sacred by his +place. I gave the unknown author his due commendation, I +must confess; but who can answer for me, and for the rest of the +poets who heard me read the poem, whether we should not have been +better pleased to have seen our own names at the bottom of the +title-page? Perhaps we commended it the more that we might +seem to be above the censure. We are naturally displeased +with an unknown critic, as the ladies are with a lampooner, +because we are bitten in the dark, and know not where to fasten +our revenge; but great excellences will work their way through +all sorts of opposition. I applauded rather out of decency +than affection; and was ambitious, as some yet can witness, to be +acquainted with a man with whom I had the honour to converse, and +that almost daily, for so many years together. Heaven knows +if I have heartily forgiven you this deceit. You extorted a +praise, which I should willingly have given had I known +you. Nothing had been more easy than to commend a patron of +a long standing. The world would join with me if the +encomiums were just, and if unjust would excuse a grateful +flatterer. But to come anonymous upon me, and force me to +commend you against my interest, was not altogether so fair, give +me leave to say, as it was politic; for by concealing your +quality you might clearly understand how your work succeeded, and +that the general approbation was given to your merit, not your +titles. Thus, like Apelles, you stood unseen behind your +own Venus, and received the praises of the passing +multitude. The work was commended, not the author; and, I +doubt not, this was one of the most pleasing adventures of your +life.</p> +<p>I have detained your lordship longer than I intended in this +dispute of preference betwixt the epic poem and the drama, and +yet have not formally answered any of the arguments which are +brought by Aristotle on the other side, and set in the fairest +light by Dacier. But I suppose without looking on the book, +I may have touched on some of the objections; for in this address +to your lordship I design not a treatise of heroic poetry, but +write in a loose epistolary way somewhat tending to that subject, +after the example of Horace in his first epistle of the second +book to Augustus Cæsar, and of that to the Pisos, which we +call his “Art of Poetry,” in both of which he +observes no method that I can trace, whatever Scaliger the +father, or Heinsius may have seen, or rather think they had +seen. I have taken up, laid down, and resumed, as often as +I pleased, the same subject, and this loose proceeding I shall +use through all this prefatory dedication. Yet all this +while I have been sailing with some side-wind or other toward the +point I proposed in the beginning—the greatness and +excellence of an heroic poem, with some of the difficulties which +attend that work. The comparison therefore which I made +betwixt the epopee and the tragedy was not altogether a +digression, for it is concluded on all hands that they are both +the masterpieces of human wit.</p> +<p>In the meantime I may be bold to draw this corollary from what +has been already said—that the file of heroic poets is very +short; all are not such who have assumed that lofty title in +ancient or modern ages, or have been so esteemed by their partial +and ignorant admirers.</p> +<p>There have been but one great “Ilias” and one +“Æneis” in so many ages; the next (but the next +with a long interval betwixt) was the +“Jerusalem”—I mean, not so much in distance of +time as in excellence. After these three are entered, some +Lord Chamberlain should be appointed, some critic of authority +should be set before the door to keep out a crowd of little poets +who press for admission, and are not of quality. +Mævius would be deafening your lordship’s ears with +his</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Fortunam Priami cantabo</i>, <i>et +nobile bellum</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mere fustian (as Horace would tell you from behind, without +pressing forward), and more smoke than fire. Pulci, +Boiardo, and Ariosto would cry out, “Make room for the +Italian poets, the descendants of Virgil in a right +line.” Father Le Moine with his “Saint +Louis,” and Scudery with his “Alaric” (for a +godly king and a Gothic conqueror); and Chapelain would take it +ill that his “Maid” should be refused a place with +Helen and Lavinia. Spenser has a better plea for his +“Faerie Queen,” had his action been finished, or had +been one; and Milton, if the devil had not been his hero instead +of Adam; if the giant had not foiled the knight, and driven him +out of his stronghold to wander through the world with his +lady-errant; and if there had not been more machining persons +than human in his poem. After these the rest of our English +poets shall not be mentioned; I have that honour for them which I +ought to have; but if they are worthies, they are not to be +ranked amongst the three whom I have named, and who are +established in their reputation.</p> +<p>Before I quitted the comparison betwixt epic poetry and +tragedy I should have acquainted my judge with one advantage of +the former over the latter, which I now casually remember out of +the preface of Segrais before his translation of the +“Æneis,” or out of Bossu—no matter which: +“The style of the heroic poem is, and ought to be, more +lofty than that of the drama.” The critic is +certainly in the right, for the reason already urged—the +work of tragedy is on the passions, and in dialogue; both of them +abhor strong metaphors, in which the epopee delights. A +poet cannot speak too plainly on the stage, for <i>volat +irrevocabile verbum</i> (the sense is lost if it be not taken +flying) but what we read alone we have leisure to digest. +There an author may beautify his sense by the boldness of his +expression, which if we understand not fully at the first we may +dwell upon it till we find the secret force and excellence. +That which cures the manners by alterative physic, as I said +before, must proceed by insensible degrees; but that which purges +the passions must do its business all at once, or wholly fail of +its effect—at least, in the present operation—and +without repeated doses. We must beat the iron while it is +hot, but we may polish it at leisure. Thus, my lord, you +pay the fine of my forgetfulness; and yet the merits of both +causes are where they were, and undecided, till you declare +whether it be more for the benefit of mankind to have their +manners in general corrected, or their pride and hard-heartedness +removed.</p> +<p>I must now come closer to my present business, and not think +of making more invasive wars abroad, when, like Hannibal, I am +called back to the defence of my own country. Virgil is +attacked by many enemies; he has a whole confederacy against him; +and I must endeavour to defend him as well as I am able. +But their principal objections being against his moral, the +duration or length of time taken up in the action of the poem, +and what they have to urge against the manners of his hero, I +shall omit the rest as mere cavils of grammarians—at the +worst but casual slips of a great man’s pen, or +inconsiderable faults of an admirable poem, which the author had +not leisure to review before his death. Macrobius has +answered what the ancients could urge against him, and some +things I have lately read in Tannegui le Febvre, Valois, and +another whom I name not, which are scarce worth answering. +They begin with the moral of his poem, which I have elsewhere +confessed, and still must own, not to be so noble as that of +Homer. But let both be fairly stated, and without +contradicting my first opinion I can show that Virgil’s was +as useful to the Romans of his age as Homer’s was to the +Grecians of his, in what time soever he may be supposed to have +lived and flourished. Homer’s moral was to urge the +necessity of union, and of a good understanding betwixt +confederate states and princes engaged in a war with a mighty +monarch; as also of discipline in an army, and obedience in the +several chiefs to the supreme commander of the joint +forces. To inculcate this, he sets forth the ruinous +effects of discord in the camp of those allies, occasioned by the +quarrel betwixt the general and one of the next in office under +him. Agamemnon gives the provocation, and Achilles resents +the injury. Both parties are faulty in the quarrel, and +accordingly they are both punished; the aggressor is forced to +sue for peace to his inferior on dishonourable conditions; the +deserter refuses the satisfaction offered, and his obstinacy +costs him his best friend. This works the natural effect of +choler, and turns his rage against him by whom he was last +affronted, and most sensibly. The greater anger expels the +less, but his character is still preserved. In the meantime +the Grecian army receives loss on loss, and is half destroyed by +a pestilence into the bargain:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Quicquid delirant reges</i>, +<i>plectuntur Achivi</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As the poet in the first part of the example had shown the bad +effects of discord, so after the reconcilement he gives the good +effects of unity; for Hector is slain, and then Troy must +fall. By this it is probable that Homer lived when the +Median monarchy was grown formidable to the Grecians, and that +the joint endeavours of his countrymen were little enough to +preserve their common freedom from an encroaching enemy. +Such was his moral, which all critics have allowed to be more +noble than that of Virgil, though not adapted to the times in +which the Roman poet lived. Had Virgil flourished in the +age of Ennius and addressed to Scipio, he had probably taken the +same moral, or some other not unlike it; for then the Romans were +in as much danger from the Carthaginian commonwealth as the +Grecians were from the Assyrian or Median monarchy. But we +are to consider him as writing his poem in a time when the old +form of government was subverted, and a new one just established +by Octavius Cæsar—in effect, by force of arms, but +seemingly by the consent of the Roman people. The +commonwealth had received a deadly wound in the former civil wars +betwixt Marius and Sylla. The commons, while the first +prevailed, had almost shaken off the yoke of the nobility; and +Marius and Cinna (like the captains of the mob), under the +specious pretence of the public good and of doing justice on the +oppressors of their liberty, revenged themselves without form of +law on their private enemies. Sylla, in his turn, +proscribed the heads of the adverse party. He, too, had +nothing but liberty and reformation in his mouth; for the cause +of religion is but a modern motive to rebellion, invented by the +Christian priesthood refining on the heathen. Sylla, to be +sure, meant no more good to the Roman people than Marius before +him, whatever he declared; but sacrificed the lives and took the +estates of all his enemies to gratify those who brought him into +power. Such was the reformation of the government by both +parties. The senate and the commons were the two bases on +which it stood, and the two champions of either faction each +destroyed the foundations of the other side; so the fabric, of +consequence, must fall betwixt them, and tyranny must be built +upon their ruins. <i>This comes of altering fundamental +laws and constitutions</i>; like him who, being in good health, +lodged himself in a physician’s house, and was +over-persuaded by his landlord to take physic (of which be died) +for the benefit of his doctor. “<i>Stavo +ben</i>,” was written on his monument, “<i>ma</i>, +<i>per star meglio</i>, <i>sto qui</i>.”</p> +<p>After the death of those two usurpers the commonwealth seemed +to recover, and held up its head for a little time, but it was +all the while in a deep consumption, which is a flattering +disease. Pompey, Crassus, and Cæsar had found the +sweets of arbitrary power, and each being a check to the +other’s growth, struck up a false friendship amongst +themselves and divided the government betwixt them, which none of +them was able to assume alone. These were the +public-spirited men of their age—that is, patriots for +their own interest. The commonwealth looked with a florid +countenance in their management; spread in bulk, and all the +while was wasting in the vitals. Not to trouble your +lordship with the repetition of what you know, after the death of +Crassus Pompey found himself outwitted by Cæsar, broke with +him, overpowered him in the senate, and caused many unjust +decrees to pass against him. Cæsar thus injured, and +unable to resist the faction of the nobles which was now +uppermost (for he was a Marian), had recourse to arms, and his +cause was just against Pompey, but not against his country, whose +constitution ought to have been sacred to him, and never to have +been violated on the account of any private wrong. But he +prevailed, and Heaven declaring for him, he became a providential +monarch under the title of Perpetual Dictator. He being +murdered by his own son (whom I neither dare commend nor can +justly blame, though Dante in his “Inferno” has put +him and Cassius, and Judas Iscariot betwixt them, into the great +devil’s mouth), the commonwealth popped up its head for the +third time under Brutus and Cassius, and then sank for ever.</p> +<p>Thus the Roman people were grossly gulled twice or thrice +over, and as often enslaved, in one century, and under the same +pretence of reformation. At last the two battles of +Philippi gave the decisive stroke against liberty, and not long +after the commonwealth was turned into a monarchy by the conduct +and good fortune of Augustus. It is true that the despotic +power could not have fallen into better hands than those of the +first and second Cæsar. Your lordship well knows what +obligations Virgil had to the latter of them. He saw, +beside, that the commonwealth was lost without resource; the +heads of it destroyed; the senate, new moulded, grown degenerate, +and either bought off or thrusting their own necks into the yoke +out of fear of being forced. Yet I may safely affirm for +our great author (as men of good sense are generally honest) that +he was still of republican principles in heart.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Secretosque pios</i>; <i>his dantem jura +Catonem</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I think I need use no other argument to justify my opinion +than that of this one line taken from the eighth book of the +Æneis. If he had not well studied his patron’s +temper it might have ruined him with another prince. But +Augustus was not discontented (at least, that we can find) that +Cato was placed by his own poet in Elysium, and there giving laws +to the holy souls who deserved to be separated from the vulgar +sort of good spirits; for his conscience could not but whisper to +the arbitrary monarch that the kings of Rome were at first +elective, and governed not without a senate; that Romulus was no +hereditary prince, and though after his death he received divine +honours for the good he did on earth, yet he was but a god of +their own making; that the last Tarquin was expelled justly for +overt acts of tyranny and mal-administration (for such are the +conditions of an elective kingdom, and I meddle not with others, +being, for my own opinion, of Montange’s +principles—that an honest man ought to be contented with +that form of government, and with those fundamental constitutions +of it, which he received from his ancestors, and under which +himself was born, though at the same time he confessed freely +that if he could have chosen his place of birth it should have +been at Venice, which for many reasons I dislike, and am better +pleased to have been born an Englishman).</p> +<p>But to return from my long rambling; I say that Virgil having +maturely weighed the condition of the times in which he lived; +that an entire liberty was not to be retrieved; that the present +settlement had the prospect of a long continuance in the same +family or those adopted into it; that he held his paternal estate +from the bounty of the conqueror, by whom he was likewise +enriched, esteemed, and cherished; that this conqueror, though of +a bad kind, was the very best of it; that the arts of peace +flourished under him; that all men might be happy if they would +be quiet; that now he was in possession of the whole, yet he +shared a great part of his authority with the senate; that he +would be chosen into the ancient offices of the commonwealth, and +ruled by the power which he derived from them, and prorogued his +government from time to time, still, as it were, threatening to +dismiss himself from public cares, which he exercised more for +the common good than for any delight he took in +greatness—these things, I say, being considered by the +poet, he concluded it to be the interest of his country to be so +governed, to infuse an awful respect into the people towards such +a prince, by that respect to confirm their obedience to him, and +by that obedience to make them happy. This was the moral of +his divine poem; honest in the poet, honourable to the emperor +(whom he derives from a divine extraction), and reflecting part +of that honour on the Roman people (whom he derives also from the +Trojans), and not only profitable, but necessary, to the present +age, and likely to be such to their posterity. That it was +the received opinion that the Romans were descended from the +Trojans, and Julius Cæsar from Iulus, the son of +Æneas, was enough for Virgil, though perhaps he thought not +so himself, or that Æneas ever was in Italy, which +Bochartus manifestly proves. And Homer (where he says that +Jupiter hated the house of Priam, and was resolved to transfer +the kingdom to the family of Æneas) yet mentions nothing of +his leading a colony into a foreign country and settling +there. But that the Romans valued themselves on their +Trojan ancestry is so undoubted a truth that I need not prove +it. Even the seals which we have remaining of Julius +Cæsar (which we know to be antique) have the star of Venus +over them—though they were all graven after his +death—as a note that he was deified. I doubt not but +one reason why Augustus should be so passionately concerned for +the preservation of the “Æneis,” which its +author had condemned to be burnt as an imperfect poem by his last +will and testament, was because it did him a real service as well +as an honour; that a work should not be lost where his divine +original was celebrated in verse which had the character of +immortality stamped upon it.</p> +<p>Neither were the great Roman families which flourished in his +time less obliged by him than the emperor. Your lordship +knows with what address he makes mention of them as captains of +ships or leaders in the war; and even some of Italian extraction +are not forgotten. These are the single stars which are +sprinkled through the “Æneis,” but there are +whole constellations of them in the fifth book; and I could not +but take notice, when I translated it, of some favourite families +to which he gives the victory and awards the prizes, in the +person of his hero, at the funeral games which were celebrated in +honour of Anchises. I insist not on their names, but am +pleased to find the Memmii amongst them, derived from Mnestheus, +because Lucretius dedicates to one of that family, a branch of +which destroyed Corinth. I likewise either found or formed +an image to myself of the contrary kind—that those who lost +the prizes were such as had disobliged the poet, or were in +disgrace with Augustus, or enemies to Mæcenas; and this was +the poetical revenge he took, for <i>genus irritabile vatum</i>, +as Horace says. When a poet is thoroughly provoked, he will +do himself justice, how ever dear it cost him, <i>animamque in +vulnere ponit</i>. I think these are not bare imaginations +of my own, though I find no trace of them in the commentators; +but one poet may judge of another by himself. The vengeance +we defer is not forgotten. I hinted before that the whole +Roman people were obliged by Virgil in deriving them from Troy, +an ancestry which they affected. We and the French are of +the same humour: they would be thought to descend from a son, I +think, of Hector; and we would have our Britain both named and +planted by a descendant of Æneas. Spenser favours +this opinion what he can. His Prince Arthur, or whoever he +intends by him, is a Trojan. Thus the hero of Homer was a +Grecian; of Virgil, a Roman; of Tasso, an Italian.</p> +<p>I have transgressed my bounds and gone farther than the moral +led me; but if your lordship is not tired, I am safe enough.</p> +<p>Thus far, I think, my author is defended. But as +Augustus is still shadowed in the person of Æneas (of which +I shall say more when I come to the manners which the poet gives +his hero), I must prepare that subject by showing how dexterously +he managed both the prince and people, so as to displease +neither, and to do good to both—which is the part of a wise +and an honest man, and proves that it is possible for a courtier +not to be a knave. I shall continue still to speak my +thoughts like a free-born subject, as I am, though such things +perhaps as no Dutch commentator could, and I am sure no Frenchman +durst. I have already told your lordship my opinion of +Virgil—that he was no arbitrary man. Obliged he was +to his master for his bounty, and he repays him with good counsel +how to behave himself in his new monarchy so as to gain the +affections of his subjects, and deserve to be called the +“Father of His Country.” From this +consideration it is that he chose for the groundwork of his poem +one empire destroyed, and another raised from the ruins of +it. This was just the parallel. Æneas could not +pretend to be Priam’s heir in a lineal succession, for +Anchises, the hero’s father, was only of the second branch +of the royal family, and Helenus, a son of Priam, was yet +surviving, and might lawfully claim before him. It may be, +Virgil mentions him on that account. Neither has he +forgotten Priamus, in the fifth of his “Æneis,” +the son of Polites, youngest son to Priam, who was slain by +Pyrrhus in the second book. Æneas had only married +Creusa, Priam’s daughter, and by her could have no title +while any of the male issue were remaining. In this case +the poet gave him the next title, which is that of an Elective +King. The remaining Trojans chose him to lead them forth +and settle them in some foreign country. Ilioneus in his +speech to Dido calls him expressly by the name of king. Our +poet, who all this while had Augustus in his eye, had no desire +he should seem to succeed by any right of inheritance derived +from Julius Cæsar, such a title being but one degree +removed from conquest: for what was introduced by force, by force +may be removed. It was better for the people that they +should give than he should take, since that gift was indeed no +more at bottom than a trust. Virgil gives us an example of +this in the person of Mezentius. He governed arbitrarily; +he was expelled and came to the deserved end of all +tyrants. Our author shows us another sort of kingship in +the person of Latinus. He was descended from Saturn, and, +as I remember, in the third degree. He is described a just +and a gracious prince, solicitous for the welfare of his people, +always consulting with his senate to promote the common +good. We find him at the head of them when he enters into +the council-hall—speaking first, but still demanding their +advice, and steering by it, as far as the iniquity of the times +would suffer him. And this is the proper character of a +king by inheritance, who is born a father of his country. +Æneas, though he married the heiress of the crown, yet +claimed no title to it during the life of his +father-in-law. <i>Socer arma Latinus hebeto</i>, &c., +are Virgil’s words. As for himself, he was contented +to take care of his country gods, who were not those of Latium; +wherein our divine author seems to relate to the after-practice +of the Romans, which was to adopt the gods of those they +conquered or received as members of their commonwealth. +Yet, withal, he plainly touches at the office of the +high-priesthood, with which Augustus was invested and which made +his person more sacred and inviolable than even the tribunitial +power. It was not therefore for nothing that the most +judicious of all poets made that office vacant by the death of +Pantheus, in the second book of the “Æneis,” +for his hero to succeed in it, and consequently for Augustus to +enjoy. I know not that any of the commentators have taken +notice of that passage. If they have not, I am sure they +ought; and if they have, I am not indebted to them for the +observation. The words of Virgil are very plain:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Sacra suosque tibi commendat Troja +Penates</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As for Augustus or his uncle Julius claiming by descent from +Æneas, that title is already out of doors. +Æneas succeeded not, but was elected. Troy was +fore-doomed to fall for ever:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Postquam res Asiæ</i>, +<i>Priamique evertere gentem</i>,<br /> +<i>Immeritam visum superis</i>.”—<span +class="smcap">Æneis</span>, I. iii., line 1.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Augustus, it is true, had once resolved to rebuild that city, +and there to make the seat of the Empire; but Horace writes an +ode on purpose to deter him from that thought, declaring the +place to be accursed, and that the gods would as often destroy it +as it should be raised. Hereupon the emperor laid aside a +project so ungrateful to the Roman people. But by this, my +lord, we may conclude that he had still his pedigree in his head, +and had an itch of being thought a divine king if his poets had +not given him better counsel.</p> +<p>I will pass by many less material objections for want of room +to answer them. What follows next is of great importance, +if the critics can make out their charge, for it is levelled at +the manners which our poet gives his hero, and which are the same +which were eminently seen in his Augustus. Those manners +were piety to the gods and a dutiful affection to his father, +love to his relations, care of his people, courage and conduct in +the wars, gratitude to those who had obliged him, and justice in +general to mankind.</p> +<p>Piety, as your lordship sees, takes place of all as the chief +part of his character; and the word in Latin is more full than it +can possibly be expressed in any modern language, for there it +comprehends not only devotion to the gods, but filial love and +tender affection to relations of all sorts. As instances of +this the deities of Troy and his own Penates are made the +companions of his flight; they appear to him in his voyage and +advise him, and at last he replaces them in Italy, their native +country. For his father, he takes him on his back. He +leads his little son, his wife follows him; but losing his +footsteps through fear or ignorance he goes back into the midst +of his enemies to find her, and leaves not his pursuit till her +ghost appears to forbid his farther search. I will say +nothing of his duty to his father while he lived, his sorrow for +his death, of the games instituted in honour of his memory, or +seeking him by his command even after death in the Elysian +fields. I will not mention his tenderness for his son, +which everywhere is visible; of his raising a tomb for Polydorus; +the obsequies for Misenus; his pious remembrance of Deiphobus; +the funerals of his nurse; his grief for Pallas, and his revenge +taken on his murderer, whom otherwise, by his natural compassion, +he had forgiven: and then the poem had been left imperfect, for +we could have had no certain prospect of his happiness while the +last obstacle to it was unremoved.</p> +<p>Of the other parts which compose his character as a king or as +a general I need say nothing; the whole “Æneis” +is one continued instance of some one or other of them; and where +I find anything of them taxed, it shall suffice me (as briefly as +I can) to vindicate my divine master to your lordship, and by you +to the reader. But herein Segrais, in his admirable preface +to his translation of the “Æneis,” as the +author of the Dauphin’s “Virgil” justly calls +it, has prevented me. Him I follow, and what I borrow from +him am ready to acknowledge to him, for, impartially speaking, +the French are as much better critics than the English as they +are worse poets. Thus we generally allow that they better +understand the management of a war than our islanders, but we +know we are superior to them in the day of battle; they value +themselves on their generals, we on our soldiers. But this +is not the proper place to decide that question, if they make it +one. I shall say perhaps as much of other nations and their +poets (excepting only Tasso), and hope to make my assertion good, +which is but doing justice to my country—part of which +honour will reflect on your lordship, whose thoughts are always +just, your numbers harmonious, your words chosen, your +expressions strong and manly, your verse flowing, and your turns +as happy as they are easy. If you would set us more copies, +your example would make all precepts needless. In the +meantime that little you have written is owned, and that +particularly by the poets (who are a nation not over-lavish of +praise to their contemporaries), as a principal ornament of our +language; but the sweetest essences are always confined in the +smallest glasses.</p> +<p>When I speak of your lordship, it is never a digression, and +therefore I need beg no pardon for it, but take up Segrais where +I left him, and shall use him less often than I have occasion for +him. For his preface is a perfect piece of criticism, full +and clear, and digested into an exact method; mine is loose and, +as I intended it, epistolary. Yet I dwell on many things +which he durst not touch, for it is dangerous to offend an +arbitrary master, and every patron who has the power of Augustus +has not his clemency. In short, my lord, I would not +translate him because I would bring you somewhat of my own. +His notes and observations on every book are of the same +excellency, and for the same reason I omit the greater part.</p> +<p>He takes no notice that Virgil is arraigned for placing piety +before valour, and making that piety the chief character of his +hero. I have said already from Bossu, that a poet is not +obliged to make his hero a virtuous man; therefore neither Homer +nor Tasso are to be blamed for giving what predominant quality +they pleased to their first character. But Virgil, who +designed to form a perfect prince, and would insinuate that +Augustus (whom he calls Æneas in his poem) was truly such, +found himself obliged to make him without +blemish—thoroughly virtuous; and a thorough virtue both +begins and ends in piety. Tasso without question observed +this before me, and therefore split his hero in two; he gave +Godfrey piety, and Rinaldo fortitude, for their chief qualities +or manners. Homer, who had chosen another moral, makes both +Agamemnon and Achilles vicious; for his design was to instruct in +virtue by showing the deformity of vice. I avoid repetition +of that I have said above. What follows is translated +literally from Segrais:—</p> +<p>“Virgil had considered that the greatest virtues of +Augustus consisted in the perfect art of governing his people, +which caused him to reign for more than forty years in great +felicity. He considered that his emperor was valiant, +civil, popular, eloquent, politic, and religious; he has given +all these qualities to Æneas. But knowing that piety +alone comprehends the whole duty of man towards the gods, towards +his country, and towards his relations, he judged that this ought +to be his first character whom he would set for a pattern of +perfection. In reality, they who believe that the praises +which arise from valour are superior to those which proceed from +any other virtues, have not considered, as they ought, that +valour, destitute of other virtues, cannot render a man worthy of +any true esteem. That quality, which signifies no more than +an intrepid courage, may he separated from many others which are +good, and accompanied with many which are ill. A man may be +very valiant, and yet impious and vicious; but the same cannot be +said of piety, which excludes all ill qualities, and comprehends +even valour itself, with all other qualities which are +good. Can we, for example, give the praise of valour to a +man who should see his gods profaned, and should want the courage +to defend them? to a man who should abandon his father, or desert +his king, in his last necessity?”</p> +<p>Thus far Segrais, in giving the preference to piety before +valour; I will now follow him where he considers this valour or +intrepid courage singly in itself; and this also Virgil gives to +his Æneas, and that in a heroical degree.</p> +<p>Having first concluded that our poet did for the best in +taking the first character of his hero from that essential virtue +on which the rest depend, he proceeds to tell us that in the ten +years’ war of Troy he was considered as the second champion +of his country, allowing Hector the first place; and this even by +the confession of Homer, who took all occasions of setting up his +own countrymen the Grecians, and of undervaluing the Trojan +chiefs. But Virgil (whom Segrais forgot to cite) makes +Diomede give him a higher character for strength and +courage. His testimony is this, in the eleventh +book:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Stetimus +tela aspera contra</i>,<br /> +<i>Contulimusque manus</i>: <i>experto credite</i>, +<i>quantus</i><br /> +<i>In clypeum adsurgat</i>, <i>quo turbine torqueat +hastam</i>.<br /> +<i>Si duo præterea tales Inachias venisset ad urbes</i><br +/> +<i>Dardanus</i>, <i>et versis lugeret Græcia fatis</i>.<br +/> +<i>Quicquid apud duræ cessatum est mænia +Trojæ</i>,<br /> +<i>Hectoris Æneæque manu victoria Grajûm</i><br +/> +<i>Hæsit</i>, <i>et in decumum vestigia retulit +annum</i>.<br /> +<i>Ambo animis</i>, <i>ambo insignes præstantibus +armis</i>:<br /> +<i>Hic pietate prior</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I give not here my translation of these verses, though I think +I have not ill succeeded in them, because your lordship is so +great a master of the original that I have no reason to desire +you should see Virgil and me so near together. But you may +please, my lord, to take notice that the Latin author refines +upon the Greek, and insinuates that Homer had done his hero wrong +in giving the advantage of the duel to his own countryman, though +Diomedes was manifestly the second champion of the Grecians; and +Ulysses preferred him before Ajax when he chose him for the +companion of his nightly expedition, for he had a headpiece of +his own, and wanted only the fortitude of another to bring him +off with safety, and that he might compass his design with +honour.</p> +<p>The French translator thus proceeds:—“They who +accuse Æneas for want of courage, either understand not +Virgil or have read him slightly; otherwise they would not raise +an objection so easy to be answered.” Hereupon he +gives so many instances of the hero’s valour that to repeat +them after him would tire your lordship, and put me to the +unnecessary trouble of transcribing the greatest part of the +three last Æneids. In short, more could not be +expected from an Amadis, a Sir Lancelot, or the whole Round Table +than he performs. <i>Proxima quæque metit galdio</i> +is the perfect account of a knight-errant. If it be +replied, continues Segrais, that it was not difficult for him to +undertake and achieve such hardy enterprises because he wore +enchanted arms, that accusation in the first place must fall on +Homer ere it can reach Virgil. Achilles was as well +provided with them as Æneas, though he was invulnerable +without them; and Ariosto, the two Tassos (Bernardo and +Torquato), even our own Spenser—in a word, all modern +poets—have copied Homer, as well as Virgil; he is neither +the first nor last, but in the midst of them, and therefore is +safe if they are so. Who knows, says Segrais, but that his +fated armour was only an allegorical defence, and signified no +more than that he was under the peculiar protection of the gods? +born, as the astrologers will tell us out of Virgil (who was well +versed in the Chaldean mysteries), under the favourable influence +of Jupiter, Venus, and the Sun? But I insist not on this +because I know you believe not there is such an art; though not +only Horace and Persius, but Augustus himself, thought +otherwise. But in defence of Virgil, I dare positively say +that he has been more cautious in this particular than either his +predecessor or his descendants; for Æneas was actually +wounded in the twelfth of the “Æneis,” though +he had the same godsmith to forge his arms as had Achilles. +It seems he was no “war-luck,” as the Scots commonly +call such men, who, they say, are iron-free or lead-free. +Yet after this experiment that his arms were not impenetrable +(when he was cured indeed by his mother’s help, because he +was that day to conclude the war by the death of Turnus), the +poet durst not carry the miracle too far and restore him wholly +to his former vigour; he was still too weak to overtake his +enemy, yet we see with what courage he attacks Turnus when he +faces and renews the combat. I need say no more, for Virgil +defends himself without needing my assistance, and proves his +hero truly to deserve that name. He was not, then, a +second-rate champion, as they would have him who think fortitude +the first virtue in a hero.</p> +<p>But being beaten from this hold, they will not yet allow him +to be valiant, because he wept more often, as they think, than +well becomes a man of courage.</p> +<p>In the first place, if tears are arguments of cowardice, what +shall I say of Homer’s hero? Shall Achilles pass for +timorous because he wept, and wept on less occasions than +Æneas? Herein Virgil must be granted to have excelled +his master; for once both heroes are described lamenting their +lost loves: Briseis was taken away by force from the Grecians, +Creusa was lost for ever to her husband. But Achilles went +roaring along the salt sea-shore, and, like a booby, was +complaining to his mother when he should have revenged his injury +by arms: Æneas took a nobler course; for, having secured +his father and his son, he repeated all his former dangers to +have found his wife, if she had been above ground. And here +your lordship may observe the address of Virgil; it was not for +nothing that this passage was related, with all these tender +circumstances. Æneas told it, Dido heard it. +That he had been so affectionate a husband was no ill argument to +the coming dowager that he might prove as kind to her. +Virgil has a thousand secret beauties, though I have not leisure +to remark them.</p> +<p>Segrais, on this subject of a hero’s shedding tears, +observes that historians commend Alexander for weeping when he +read the mighty actions of Achilles; and Julius Cæsar is +likewise praised when out of the same noble envy, he wept at the +victories of Alexander. But if we observe more closely, we +shall find that the tears of Æneas were always on a +laudable occasion. Thus he weeps out of compassion and +tenderness of nature when in the temple of Carthage he beholds +the pictures of his friends who sacrificed their lives in defence +of their country. He deplores the lamentable end of his +pilot Palinurus, the untimely death of young Pallas his +confederate, and the rest which I omit. Yet even for these +tears his wretched critics dare condemn him; they make +Æneas little better than a kind of St. Swithin hero, always +raining. One of these censors was bold enough to argue him +of cowardice, when in the beginning of the first book he not only +weeps, but trembles, at an approaching storm:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Extemplo Æneæ solvuntur +frigore membra</i>:<br /> +<i>Ingemit</i>, <i>et duplices tendens ad sidera +palmas</i>,” &c.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But to this I have answered formerly that his fear was not for +himself, but for his people. And who can give a sovereign a +better commendation, or recommend a hero more to the affection of +the reader? They were threatened with a tempest, and he +wept; he was promised Italy, and therefore he prayed for the +accomplishment of that promise;—all this in the beginning +of a storm; therefore he showed the more early piety and the +quicker sense of compassion. Thus much I have urged +elsewhere in the defence of Virgil: and since, I have been +informed by Mr. Moyle, a young gentleman whom I can never +sufficiently commend, that the ancients accounted drowning an +accursed death. So that if we grant him to have been +afraid, he had just occasion for that fear, both in relation to +himself and to his subjects. I think our adversaries can +carry this argument no farther, unless they tell us that he ought +to have had more confidence in the promise of the gods. But +how was he assured that he had understood their oracles +aright? Helenus might be mistaken; Phoebus might speak +doubtfully; even his mother might flatter him that he might +prosecute his voyage, which if it succeeded happily he should be +the founder of an empire: for that she herself was doubtful of +his fortune is apparent by the address she made to Jupiter on his +behalf; to which the god makes answer in these words:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Parce metu</i>, <i>Cytherea</i>, +<i>manent immota tuorum</i><br /> +<i>Fata tibi</i>,” &c.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Notwithstanding which the goddess, though comforted, was not +assured; for even after this, through the course of the whole +“Æneis,” she still apprehends the interest +which Juno might make with Jupiter against her son. For it +was a moot point in heaven whether he could alter fate or not; +and indeed some passages in Virgil would make us suspect that he +was of opinion Jupiter might defer fate, though he could not +alter it; for in the latter end of the tenth book he introduces +Juno begging for the life of Turnus, and flattering her husband +with the power of changing destiny, <i>tua</i>, <i>qui potes</i>, +<i>orsa reflectas</i>! To which he graciously +answers—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Si mora præsentis leti</i>, +<i>tempusque caduco</i><br /> +<i>Oratur juveni</i>, <i>meque hoc ita ponere sentis</i>,<br /> +<i>Tolle fugâ Turnum</i>, <i>atquc instantibus eripe +fatis</i>.<br /> +<i>Hactenus indulsisse vacat</i>. <i>Sin altior +istis</i><br /> +<i>Sub precibus venia ulla latet</i>, <i>totumque moveri</i><br +/> +<i>Mutarive putas bellum</i>, <i>spes pascis +inanis</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But that he could not alter those decrees the king of gods +himself confesses in the book above cited, when he comforts +Hercules for the death of Pallas, who had invoked his aid before +he threw his lance at Turnus:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Trojæ +sub mænibus altis</i><br /> +<i>Tot nati cecidere deûm</i>; <i>quin occidit +unà</i><br /> +<i>Sarpedon</i>, <i>mea progenies</i>; <i>etiam sua Turnum</i><br +/> +<i>Fata vocant</i>, <i>metasque dati pervenit ad +ævi</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Where he plainly acknowledges that he could not save his own +son, or prevent the death which he foresaw. Of his power to +defer the blow, I once occasionally discoursed with that +excellent person Sir Robert Howard, who is better conversant than +any man that I know in the doctrine of the Stoics, and he set me +right, from the concurrent testimony of philosophers and poets, +that Jupiter could not retard the effects of fate, even for a +moment; for when I cited Virgil as favouring the contrary opinion +in that verse—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Tolle fugâ Turnum</i>, <i>atque +instantibus eripe fatis</i>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>he replied, and I think with exact judgment, that when Jupiter +gave Juno leave to withdraw Turnus from the present danger, it +was because he certainly foreknew that his fatal hour was not +come, that it was in destiny for Juno at that time to save him, +and that himself obeyed destiny in giving her that leave.</p> +<p>I need say no more in justification of our hero’s +courage, and am much deceived if he ever be attacked on this side +of his character again. But he is arraigned with more show +of reason by the ladies, who will make a numerous party against +him, for being false to love in forsaking Dido; and I cannot much +blame them, for, to say the truth, it is an ill precedent for +their gallants to follow. Yet if I can bring him off with +flying colours, they may learn experience at her cost; and for +her sake avoid a cave as the worse shelter they can choose from a +shower of rain, especially when they have a lover in their +company.</p> +<p>In the first place, Segrais observes with much acuteness that +they who blame Æneas for his insensibility of love when he +left Carthage, contradict their former accusation of him for +being always crying, compassionate, and effeminately sensible of +those misfortunes which befell others. They give him two +contrary characters; but Virgil makes him of a piece, always +grateful, always tender-hearted. But they are impudent +enough to discharge themselves of this blunder by laying the +contradiction at Virgil’s door. He, they say, has +shown his hero with these inconsistent +characters—acknowledging and ungrateful, compassionate and +hard-hearted, but at the bottom fickle and self-interested; for +Dido had not only received his weather-beaten troops before she +saw him, and given them her protection, but had also offered them +an equal share in her dominion:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Vultis et his mecum pariter considere +regnis</i>?<br /> +<i>Urbem quam statuo</i>, <i>vesra est</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This was an obligement never to be forgotten, and the more to +be considered because antecedent to her love. That passion, +it is true, produced the usual effects of generosity, gallantry, +and care to please, and thither we refer them; but when she had +made all these advances, it was still in his power to have +refused them. After the intrigue of the cave—call it +marriage, or enjoyment only—he was no longer free to take +or leave; he had accepted the favour, and was obliged to be +constant, if he would be grateful.</p> +<p>My lord, I have set this argument in the best light I can, +that the ladies may not think I write booty; and perhaps it may +happen to me, as it did to Doctor Cudworth, who has raised such +strong objections against the being of a God and Providence, that +many think he has not answered them. You may please at +least to hear the adverse party. Segrais pleads for Virgil +that no less than an absolute command from Jupiter could excuse +this insensibility of the hero, and this abrupt departure, which +looks so like extreme ingratitude; but at the same time he does +wisely to remember you that Virgil had made piety the first +character of Æneas; and this being allowed, as I am afraid +it must, he was obliged, antecedent to all other considerations, +to search an asylum for his gods in Italy—for those very +gods, I say, who had promised to his race the universal +empire. Could a pious man dispense with the commands of +Jupiter to satisfy his passion, or—take it in the strongest +sense—to comply with the obligations of his +gratitude? Religion, it is true, must have moral honesty +for its groundwork, or we shall be apt to suspect its truth; but +an immediate revelation dispenses with all duties of +morality. All casuists agree that theft is a breach of the +moral law; yet if I might presume to mingle things sacred with +profane, the Israelites only spoiled the Egyptians, not robbed +them, because the propriety was transferred by a revelation to +their lawgiver. I confess Dido was a very infidel in this +point; for she would not believe, as Virgil makes her say, that +ever Jupiter would send Mercury on such an immoral errand. +But this needs no answer—at least, no more than Virgil +gives it:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Fata obstant</i>, <i>placidasque viri +Deus obstruit aures</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This notwithstanding, as Segrais confesses, he might have +shown a little more sensibility when he left her, for that had +been according to his character.</p> +<p>But let Virgil answer for himself. He still loved her, +and struggled with his inclinations to obey the gods:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Curam +sub corde premebat</i>,<br /> +<i>Multa gemens</i>, <i>magnoque animum labefactus +amore</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Upon the whole matter, and humanly speaking, I doubt there was +a fault somewhere, and Jupiter is better able to bear the blame +than either Virgil or Æneas. The poet, it seems, had +found it out, and therefore brings the deserting hero and the +forsaken lady to meet together in the lower regions, where he +excuses himself when it is too late, and accordingly she will +take no satisfaction, nor so much as hear him. Now Segrais +is forced to abandon his defence, and excuses his author by +saying that the “Æneis” is an imperfect work, +and that death prevented the divine poet from reviewing it, and +for that reason he had condemned it to the fire, though at the +same time his two translators must acknowledge that the sixth +book is the most correct of the whole +“Æneis.” Oh, how convenient is a machine +sometimes in a heroic poem! This of Mercury is plainly one; +and Virgil was constrained to use it here, or the honesty of his +hero would be ill defended; and the fair sex, however, if they +had the deserter in their power, would certainly have shown him +no more mercy than the Bacchanals did Orpheus: for if too much +constancy may be a fault sometimes, then want of constancy, and +ingratitude after the last favour, is a crime that never will be +forgiven. But of machines, more in their proper place, +where I shall show with how much judgment they have been used by +Virgil; and in the meantime pass to another article of his +defence on the present subject, where, if I cannot clear the +hero, I hope at least to bring off the poet, for here I must +divide their causes. Let Æneas trust to his machine, +which will only help to break his fall; but the address is +incomparable. Plato, who borrowed so much from Homer, and +yet concluded for the banishment of all poets, would at least +have rewarded Virgil before he sent him into exile; but I go +farther, and say that he ought to be acquitted, and deserved, +beside, the bounty of Augustus and the gratitude of the Roman +people. If after this the ladies will stand out, let them +remember that the jury is not all agreed; for Octavia was of his +party, and was of the first quality in Rome: she was also present +at the reading of the sixth Æneid, and we know not that she +condemned Æneas, but we are sure she presented the poet for +his admirable elegy on her son Marcellus.</p> +<p>But let us consider the secret reasons which Virgil had for +thus framing this noble episode, wherein the whole passion of +love is more exactly described than in any other poet. Love +was the theme of his fourth book; and though it is the shortest +of the whole “Æneis,” yet there he has given +its beginning, its progress, its traverses, and its conclusion; +and had exhausted so entirely this subject that he could resume +it but very slightly in the eight ensuing books.</p> +<p>She was warmed with the graceful appearance of the hero; she +smothered those sparkles out of decency, but conversation blew +them up into a flame. Then she was forced to make a +confidante of her whom she best might trust, her own sister, who +approves the passion, and thereby augments it; then succeeds her +public owning it; and after that the consummation. Of Venus +and Juno, Jupiter and Mercury, I say nothing (for they were all +machining work); but possession having cooled his love, as it +increased hers, she soon perceived the change, or at least grew +suspicious of a change. This suspicion soon turned to +jealousy, and jealousy to rage; then she disdains and threatens, +and again is humble and entreats: and, nothing availing, +despairs, curses, and at last becomes her own executioner. +See here the whole process of that passion, to which nothing can +be added. I dare go no farther, lest I should lose the +connection of my discourse.</p> +<p>To love our native country, and to study its benefit and its +glory; to be interested in its concerns, is natural to all men, +and is indeed our common duty. A poet makes a farther step +for endeavouring to do honour to it. It is allowable in him +even to be partial in its cause; for he is not tied to truth, or +fettered by the laws of history. Homer and Tasso are justly +praised for choosing their heroes out of Greece and Italy; +Virgil, indeed, made his a Trojan, but it was to derive the +Romans and his own Augustus from him; but all the three poets are +manifestly partial to their heroes in favour of their +country. For Dares Phrygius reports of Hector that he was +slain cowardly; Æneas, according to the best account, slew +not Mezentius, but was slain by him; and the chronicles of Italy +tell us little of that Rinaldo d’Este who conquers +Jerusalem in Tasso. He might be a champion of the Church, +but we know not that he was so much as present at the +siege. To apply this to Virgil, he thought himself engaged +in honour to espouse the cause and quarrel of his country against +Carthage. He knew he could not please the Romans better, or +oblige them more to patronise his poem, than by disgracing the +foundress of that city. He shows her ungrateful to the +memory of her first husband, doting on a stranger, enjoyed and +afterwards forsaken by him. This was the original, says he, +of the immortal hatred betwixt the two rival nations. It is +true, he colours the falsehood of Æneas by an express +command from Jupiter to forsake the queen who had obliged him; +but he knew the Romans were to be his readers, and them he +bribed—perhaps at the expense of his hero’s honesty; +but he gained his cause, however, as pleading before corrupt +judges. They were content to see their founder false to +love, for still he had the advantage of the amour. It was +their enemy whom he forsook, and she might have forsaken him if +he had not got the start of her. She had already forgotten +her vows to her Sichæus, and <i>varium et nutabile semper +femina</i> is the sharpest satire in the fewest words that ever +was made on womankind; for both the adjectives are neuter, and +<i>animal</i> must be understood to make them grammar. +Virgil does well to put those words into the mouth of +Mercury. If a god had not spoken them, neither durst he +have written them, nor I translated them. Yet the deity was +forced to come twice on the same errand; and the second time, as +much a hero as Æneas was, he frighted him. It seems +he feared not Jupiter so much as Dido; for your lordship may +observe that, as much intent as he was upon his voyage, yet he +still delayed it, till the messenger was obliged to tell him +plainly that if he weighed not anchor in the night the queen +would be with him in the morning, <i>notumque furens quid femina +possit</i>: she was injured, she was revengeful, she was +powerful. The poet had likewise before hinted that the +people were naturally perfidious, for he gives their character in +the queen, and makes a proverb of <i>Punica fides</i> many ages +before it was invented.</p> +<p>Thus I hope, my lord, that I have made good my promise, and +justified the poet, whatever becomes of the false knight. +And, sure, a poet is as much privileged to lie as an ambassador +for the honour and interest of his country—at least, as Sir +Henry Wotton has defined.</p> +<p>This naturally leads me to the defence of the famous +anachronism in making Æneas and Dido contemporaries, for it +is certain that the hero lived almost two hundred years before +the building of Carthage. One who imitates Boccalini says +that Virgil was accused before Apollo for this error. The +god soon found that he was not able to defend his favourite by +reason, for the case was clear; he therefore gave this middle +sentence: that anything might be allowed to his son Virgil on the +account of his other merits; that, being a monarch, he had a +dispensing power, and pardoned him. But that this special +act of grace might never be drawn into example, or pleaded by his +puny successors in justification of their ignorance, he decreed +for the future—no poet should presume to make a lady die +for love two hundred years before her birth. To moralise +this story, Virgil is the Apollo who has this dispensing +power. His great judgment made the laws of poetry, but he +never made himself a slave to them; chronology at best is but a +cobweb law, and he broke through it with his weight. They +who will imitate him wisely must choose, as he did, an obscure +and a remote era, where they may invent at pleasure, and not be +easily contradicted. Neither he nor the Romans had ever +read the Bible, by which only his false computation of times can +be made out against him. This Segrais says in his defence, +and proves it from his learned friend Bochartus, whose letter on +this subject he has printed at the end of the fourth Æneid, +to which I refer your lordship and the reader. Yet the +credit of Virgil was so great that he made this fable of his own +invention pass for an authentic history, or at least as credible +as anything in Homer. Ovid takes it up after him even in +the same age, and makes an ancient heroine of Virgil’s +new-created Dido; dictates a letter for her, just before her +death, to the ingrateful fugitive; and, very unluckily for +himself, is for measuring a sword with a man so much superior in +force to him on the same subject. I think I may be judge of +this, because I have translated both. The famous author of +“The Art of Love” has nothing of his own; he borrows +all from a greater master in his own profession, and, which is +worse, improves nothing which he finds. Nature fails him; +and, being forced to his old shift, he has recourse to +witticism. This passes, indeed, with his soft admirers, and +gives him the preference to Virgil in their esteem; but let them +like for themselves, and not prescribe to others, for our author +needs not their admiration.</p> +<p>The motive that induced Virgil to coin this fable I have +showed already, and have also begun to show that he might make +this anachronism, by superseding the mechanic rules of poetry, +for the same reason that a monarch may dispense with or suspend +his own laws when he finds it necessary so to do, especially if +those laws are not altogether fundamental. Nothing is to be +called a fault in poetry, says Aristotle, but what is against the +art; therefore a man may be an admirable poet without being an +exact chronologer. Shall we dare, continues Segrais, to +condemn Virgil for having made a fiction against the order of +time, when we commend Ovid and other poets who have made many of +their fictions against the order of nature? For what else +are the splendid miracles of the +“Metamorphoses?” Yet these are beautiful as +they are related, and have also deep learning and instructive +mythologies couched under them. But to give, as Virgil does +in this episode, the original cause of the long wars betwixt Rome +and Carthage; to draw truth out of fiction after so probable a +manner, with so much beauty, and so much for the honour of his +country, was proper only to the divine wit of Maro; and Tasso, in +one of his discourses, admires him for this particularly. +It is not lawful indeed to contradict a point of history which is +known to all the world—as, for example, to make Hannibal +and Scipio contemporaries with Alexander—but in the dark +recesses of antiquity a great poet may and ought to feign such +things as he finds not there, if they can be brought to embellish +that subject which he treats. On the other side, the pains +and diligence of ill poets is but thrown away when they want the +genius to invent and feign agreeably. But if the fictions +be delightful (which they always are if they be natural) if they +be of a piece; if the beginning, the middle, and the end be in +their due places, and artfully united to each other, such works +can never fail of their deserved success. And such is +Virgil’s episode of Dido and Æneas, where the sourest +critic must acknowledge that if he had deprived his +“Æneis” of so great an ornament, because he +found no traces of it in antiquity, he had avoided their unjust +censure, but had wanted one of the greatest beauties of his +poem.</p> +<p>I shall say more of this in the next article of their charge +against him, which is—want of invention. In the +meantime I may affirm, in honour of this episode, that it is not +only now esteemed the most pleasing entertainment of the +“Æneis,” but was so accounted in his own age, +and before it was mellowed into that reputation which time has +given it; for which I need produce no other testimony than that +of Ovid, his contemporary:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Nec pars ulla magis legitur de corpore +toto</i>,<br /> +<i>Quam non legitimo fædere junctus amor</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Where, by the way, you may observe, my lord, that Ovid in +those words, <i>non legitimo fædere junctus amor</i>, will +by no means allow it to be a lawful marriage betwixt Dido and +Æneas. He was in banishment when he wrote those +verses, which I cite from his letter to Augustus. +“You, sir,” saith he, “have sent me into exile +for writing my ‘Art of Love’ and my wanton elegies; +yet your own poet was happy in your good graces, though he +brought Dido and Æneas into a cave, and left them there not +over-honestly together: may I be so bold to ask your majesty is +it a greater fault to teach the art of unlawful love than to show +it in the action?” But was Ovid the court-poet so bad +a courtier as to find no other plea to excuse himself than by a +plain accusation of his master? Virgil confessed it was a +lawful marriage betwixt the lovers; that Juno, the goddess of +matrimony, had ratified it by her presence (for it was her +business to bring matters to that issue): that the ceremonies +were short we may believe, for Dido was not only amorous, but a +widow. Mercury himself, though employed on a quite contrary +errand, yet owns it a marriage by an +innuendo—<i>pulchramque uxorius urbem extruis</i>. He +calls Æneas not only a husband, but upbraids him for being +a fond husband, as the word <i>uxorius</i> implies. Now +mark a little, if your lordship pleases, why Virgil is so much +concerned to make this marriage (for he seems to be the father of +the bride himself, and to give her to the bridegroom); it was to +make way for the divorce which he intended afterwards, for he was +a finer flatterer than Ovid, and I more than conjecture that he +had in his eye the divorce which not long before had passed +betwixt the emperor and Scribonia. He drew this dimple in +the cheek of Æneas to prove Augustus of the same family by +so remarkable a feature in the same place. Thus, as we say +in our home-spun English proverb, he killed two birds with one +stone—pleased the emperor by giving him the resemblance of +his ancestor, and gave him such a resemblance as was not +scandalous in that age (for to leave one wife and take another +was but a matter of gallantry at that time of day among the +Romans). <i>Neque hæc in fædera veni</i> is the +very excuse which Æneas makes when he leaves his +lady. “I made no such bargain with you at our +marriage to live always drudging on at Carthage; my business was +Italy, and I never made a secret of it. If I took my +pleasure, had not you your share of it? I leave you free at +my departure to comfort yourself with the next stranger who +happens to be shipwrecked on your coast; be as kind an hostess as +you have been to me, and you can never fail of another +husband. In the meantime I call the gods to witness that I +leave your shore unwillingly; for though Juno made the marriage, +yet Jupiter commands me to forsake you.” This is the +effect of what he saith when it is dishonoured out of Latin verse +into English prose. If the poet argued not aright, we must +pardon him for a poor blind heathen, who knew no better +morals.</p> +<p>I have detained your lordship longer than I intended on this +objection, which would indeed weigh something in a Spiritual +Court;—but I am not to defend our poet there. The +next, I think, is but a cavil, though the cry is great against +him, and hath continued from the time of Macrobius to this +present age; I hinted it before. They lay no less than want +of invention to his charge—a capital charge, I must +acknowledge; for a poet is a maker, as the word signifies; and +who cannot make—that is, invent—hath his name for +nothing. That which makes this accusation look so strong at +the first sight is that he has borrowed so many things from +Homer, Apollonius Rhodius, and others who preceded him. But +in the first place, if invention is to be taken in so strict a +sense that the matter of a poem must be wholly new, and that in +all its parts, then Scaliger hath made out, saith Segrais, that +the history of Troy was no more the invention of Homer than of +Virgil. There was not an old woman or almost a child, but +had it in their mouths before the Greek poet or his friends +digested it into this admirable order in which we read it. +At this rate, as Solomon hath told us, there is nothing new +beneath the sun. Who, then, can pass for an inventor if +Homer as well as Virgil must be deprived of that glory! Is +Versailles the less a new building because the architect of that +palace hath imitated others which were built before it? +Walls, doors and windows, apartments, offices, rooms of +convenience and magnificence, are in all great houses. So +descriptions, figures, fables, and the rest, must be in all +heroic poems; they are the common materials of poetry, furnished +from the magazine of nature: every poet hath as much right to +them as every man hath to air or water:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Quid prohibetis aquas</i>? <i>Usus +communis aquarum est</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But the argument of the work (that is to say, its principal +action), the economy and disposition of it—these are the +things which distinguish copies from originals. The Poet +who borrows nothing from others is yet to be born; he and the +Jews’ Messias will come together. There are parts of +the “Æneis” which resemble some parts both of +the “Ilias” and of the “Odysses;” as, for +example, Æneas descended into hell, and Ulysses had been +there before him; Æneas loved Dido, and Ulysses loved +Calypso: in few words, Virgil hath imitated Homer’s +“Odysses” in his first six books, and in his six last +the “Ilias.” But from hence can we infer that +the two poets write the same history? Is there no invention +in some other parts of Virgil’s +“Æneis?” The disposition of so many +various matters, is not that his own? From what book of +Homer had Virgil his episode of Nysus and Euryalus, of Mezentius +and Lausus? From whence did he borrow his design of +bringing Æneas into Italy? of establishing the Roman Empire +on the foundations of a Trojan colony? to say nothing of the +honour he did his patron, not only in his descent from Venus, but +in making him so like her in his best features that the goddess +might have mistaken Augustus for her son. He had indeed the +story from common fame, as Homer had his from the Egyptian +priestess. <i>Æneadum genetriæ</i> was no more +unknown to Lucretius than to him; but Lucretius taught him not to +form his hero, to give him piety or valour for his +manners—and both in so eminent a degree that, having done +what was possible for man to save his king and country, his +mother was forced to appear to him and restrain his fury, which +hurried him to death in their revenge. But the poet made +his piety more successful; he brought off his father and his son; +and his gods witnessed to his devotion by putting themselves +under his protection, to be replaced by him in their promised +Italy. Neither the invention nor the conduct of this great +action were owing to Homer or any other poet; it is one thing to +copy, and another thing to imitate from nature. The copier +is that servile imitator to whom Horace gives no better a name +than that of animal; he will not so much as allow him to be a +man. Raffaelle imitated nature; they who copy one of +Raffaelle’s pieces, imitate but him, for his work is their +original. They translate him, as I do Virgil; and fall as +short of him as I of Virgil. There is a kind of invention +in the imitation of Raffaelle; for though the thing was in +nature, yet the idea of it was his own. Ulysses travelled, +so did Æneas; but neither of them were the first +travellers: for Cain went into the land of Nod before they were +born, and neither of the poets ever heard of such a man. If +Ulysses had been killed at Troy, yet Æneas must have gone +to sea, or he could never have arrived in Italy; but the designs +of the two poets were as different as the courses of their +heroes—one went home, and the other sought a home.</p> +<p>To return to my first similitude. Suppose Apelles and +Raffaelle had each of them painted a burning Troy, might not the +modern painter have succeeded as well as the ancient, though +neither of them had seen the town on fire? For the drafts +of both were taken from the ideas which they had of nature. +Cities have been burnt before either of them were in being. +But to close the simile as I began it: they would not have +designed it after the same manner; Apelles would have +distinguished Pyrrhus from the rest of all the Grecians, and +showed him forcing his entrance into Priam’s palace; there +he had set him in the fairest light, and given him the chief +place of all his figures, because he was a Grecian and he would +do honour to his country. Raffaelle, who was an Italian, +and descended from the Trojans, would have made Æneas the +hero of his piece, and perhaps not with his father on his back, +his son in one hand, his bundle of gods in the other, and his +wife following (for an act of piety is not half so graceful in a +picture as an act of courage); he would rather have drawn him +killing Androgeus or some other hand to hand, and the blaze of +the fires should have darted full upon his face, to make him +conspicuous amongst his Trojans. This, I think, is a just +comparison betwixt the two poets in the conduct of their several +designs. Virgil cannot be said to copy Homer; the Grecian +had only the advantage of writing first. If it be urged +that I have granted a resemblance in some parts, yet therein +Virgil has excelled him; for what are the tears of Calypso for +being left, to the fury and death of Dido? Where is there +the whole process of her passion and all its violent effects to +be found in the languishing episode of the +“Odysses”? If this be to copy, let the critics +show us the same disposition, features, or colouring in their +original. The like may be said of the descent to hell, +which was not of Homer’s invention either; he had it from +the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. But to what end did +Ulysses make that journey? Æneas undertook it by the +express commandment of his father’s ghost. There he +was to show him all the succeeding heroes of his race, and next +to Romulus (mark, if you please the address of Virgil) his own +patron, Augustus Cæsar. Anchises was likewise to +instruct him how to manage the Italian war, and how to conclude +it with his honour—that is, in other words, to lay the +foundations of that empire which Augustus was to govern. +This is the noble invention of our author, but it hath been +copied by so many sign-post daubers that now it is grown fulsome, +rather by their want of skill than by the commonness.</p> +<p>In the last place. I may safely grant that by reading +Homer, Virgil was taught to imitate his invention—that is +to imitate like him (which is no more than if a painter studied +Raffaelle that he might learn to design after his manner). +And thus I might imitate Virgil if I were capable of writing an +heroic poem, and yet the invention be my own; but I should +endeavour to avoid a servile copying. I would not give the +same story under other names, with the same characters, in the +same order, and with the same sequel, for every common reader to +find me out at the first sight for a plagiary, and cry, +“This I read before in Virgil in a better language and in +better verse.” This is like Merry-Andrew on the low +rope copying lubberly the same tricks which his master is so +dexterously performing on the high.</p> +<p>I will trouble your lordship but with one objection more, +which I know not whether I found in Le Febvre or Valois, but I am +sure I have read it in another French critic, whom I will not +name because I think it is not much for his reputation. +Virgil in the heat of action—suppose, for example, in +describing the fury of his hero in a battle (when he is +endeavouring to raise our concernments to the highest +pitch)—turns short on the sudden into some similitude which +diverts, say they, your attention from the main subject, and +misspends it on some trivial image. He pours cold water +into the caldron when his business is to make it boil.</p> +<p>This accusation is general against all who would be thought +heroic poets, but I think it touches Virgil less than any; he is +too great a master of his art to make a blot which may so easily +be hit. Similitudes (as I have said) are not for tragedy, +which is all violent, and where the passions are in a perpetual +ferment; for there they deaden, where they should animate; they +are not of the nature of dialogue unless in comedy. A +metaphor is almost all the stage can suffer, which is a kind of +similitude comprehended in a word. But this figure has a +contrary effect in heroic poetry; there it is employed to raise +the admiration, which is its proper business; and admiration is +not of so violent a nature as fear or hope, compassion or horror, +or any concernment we can have for such or such a person on the +stage. Not but I confess that similitudes and descriptions +when drawn into an unreasonable length must needs nauseate the +reader. Once I remember (and but once) Virgil makes a +similitude of fourteen lines, and his description of Fame is +about the same number. He is blamed for both, and I doubt +not but he would have contracted them had be lived to have +reviewed his work; but faults are no precedents. This I +have observed of his similitudes in general—that they are +not placed (as our unobserving critics tell us) in the heat of +any action, but commonly in its declining; when he has warmed us +in his description as much as possibly he can, then (lest that +warmth should languish) he renews it by some apt similitude which +illustrates his subject and yet palls not his audience. I +need give your lordship but one example of this kind, and leave +the rest to your observation when next you review the whole +“Æneis” in the original, unblemished by my rude +translation; it is in the first hook, where the poet describes +Neptune composing the ocean, on which Æolus had raised a +tempest without his permission. He had already chidden the +rebellious winds for obeying the commands of their usurping +master; he had warned them from the seas; he had beaten down the +billows with his mace; dispelled the clouds, restored the +sunshine, while Triton and Cymothoe were heaving the ships from +off the quicksands, before the poet would offer at a similitude +for illustration:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Ac</i>, <i>veluti magno in populo cum +sæpe coorta est</i><br /> +<i>Seditio</i>, <i>sævitque animis ignobile vulgus</i>;<br +/> +<i>Jamque faces</i>, <i>et saxa volant</i>; <i>furor arma +ministrat</i>;<br /> +<i>Tum</i>, <i>pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum +quem</i><br /> +<i>Conspexere</i>, <i>silent</i>, <i>arrectisque auribus +adstant</i>:<br /> +<i>Ille regit dictis animos</i>, <i>et pectora mulcet</i>:<br /> +<i>Sic cunctus pelagi cecidit fragor</i>, <i>æquora +postquam</i><br /> +<i>Prospiciens genitor</i>, <i>coeloque invectus aperto</i><br /> +<i>Flectit equos</i>, <i>curruque volans dat lora +secundo</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This is the first similitude which Virgil makes in this poem, +and one of the longest in the whole, for which reason I the +rather cite it. While the storm was in its fury, any +allusion had been improper; for the poet could have compared it +to nothing more impetuous than itself; consequently he could have +made no illustration. If he could have illustrated, it had +been an ambitious ornament out of season, and would have diverted +our concernment (<i>nunc non erat his locus</i>), and therefore +he deferred it to its proper place.</p> +<p>These are the criticisms of most moment which have been made +against the “Æneis” by the ancients or +moderns. As for the particular exceptions against this or +that passage, Macrobius and Pontanus have answered them +already. If I desired to appear more learned than I am, it +had been as easy for me to have taken their objections and +solutions as it is for a country parson to take the expositions +of the Fathers out of Junius and Tremellius, or not to have named +the authors from whence I had them; for so Ruæus (otherwise +a most judicious commentator on Virgil’s works) has used +Pontanus, his greatest benefactor, of whom he is very silent, and +I do not remember that he once cites him.</p> +<p>What follows next is no objection; for that implies a fault, +and it had been none in Virgil if he had extended the time of his +action beyond a year—at least, Aristotle has set no precise +limits to it. Homer’s, we know, was within two +months; Tasso; I am sure, exceeds not a summer, and if I examined +him perhaps he might be reduced into a much less compass. +Bossu leaves it doubtful whether Virgil’s action were +within the year, or took up some months beyond it. Indeed, +the whole dispute is of no more concernment to the common reader +than it is to a ploughman whether February this year had +twenty-eight or twenty-nine days in it; but for the satisfaction +of the more curious (of which number I am sure your lordship is +one) I will translate what I think convenient out of Segrais, +whom perhaps you have not read, for he has made it highly +probable that the action of the “Æneis” began +in the spring, and was not extended beyond the autumn; and we +have known campaigns that have begun sooner and have ended +later.</p> +<p>Ronsard and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of opinion +that the action of this poem takes up almost a year and half, +ground their calculation thus:—Anchises died in Sicily at +the end of winter or beginning of the spring. Æneas, +immediately after the interment of his father, puts to sea for +Italy; he is surprised by the tempest described in the beginning +of the first book; and there it is that the scene of the poem +opens, and where the action must commence. He is driven by +this storm on the coasts of Africa; he stays at Carthage all that +summer, and almost all the winter following; sets sail again for +Italy just before the beginning of the spring; meets with +contrary winds, and makes Sicily the second time. This part +of the action completes the year. Then he celebrates the +anniversary of his father’s funerals, and shortly after +arrives at Cumes. And from thence his time is taken up in +his first treaty with Latinus; the overture of the war; the siege +of his camp by Turnus; his going for succours to relieve it; his +return; the raising of the siege by the first battle; the twelve +days’ truce; the second battle; the assault of Laurentum, +and the single fight with Turnus—all which, they say, +cannot take up less than four or five months more, by which +account we cannot suppose the entire action to be contained in a +much less compass than a year and half.</p> +<p>Segrais reckons another way, and his computation is not +condemned by the learned Ruæus, who compiled and published +the commentaries on our poet which we call the +“Dauphin’s Virgil.” He allows the time of +year when Anchises died to be in the latter end of winter or the +beginning of the spring; he acknowledges that when Æneas is +first seen at sea afterwards, and is driven by the tempest on the +coast of Africa, is the time when the action is naturally to +begin; he confesses farther, that Æneas left Carthage in +the latter end of winter, for Dido tells him in express terms, as +an argument for his longer stay—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Quin etiam hiberno moliris sidere +classem</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But whereas Ronsard’s followers suppose that when +Æneas had buried his father he set sail immediately for +Italy (though the tempest drove him on the coast of Carthage), +Segrais will by no means allow that supposition, but thinks it +much more probable that he remained in Sicily till the midst of +July or the beginning of August, at which time he places the +first appearance of his hero on the sea, and there opens the +action of the poem. From which beginning, to the death of +Turnus, which concludes the action, there need not be supposed +above ten months of intermediate time; for arriving at Carthage +in the latter end of summer, staying there the winter following, +departing thence in the very beginning of the spring, making a +short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, and +making the war, may be reasonably judged the business but of ten +months. To this the Ronsardians reply that, having been for +seven years before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in +Sicily than to inter his father—after that office was +performed, what remained for him but without delay to pursue his +first adventure? To which Segrais answers that the +obsequies of his father, according to the rites of the Greeks and +Romans, would detain him for many days; that a longer time must +be taken up in the re-fitting of his ships after so tedious a +voyage, and in refreshing his weather-beaten soldiers on a +friendly coast. These indeed are but suppositions on both +sides, yet those of Segrais seem better grounded; for the feast +of Dido, when she entertained Æneas first, has the +appearance of a summer’s night, which seems already almost +ended, when he begins his story. Therefore the love was +made in autumn; the hunting followed properly, when the heats of +that scorching country were declining. The winter was +passed in jollity, as the season and their love required; and he +left her in the latter end of winter, as is already proved. +This opinion is fortified by the arrival of Æneas at the +mouth of Tiber, which marks the season of the spring, that season +being perfectly described by the singing of the birds saluting +the dawn, and by the beauty of the place, which the poet seems to +have painted expressly in the seventh Æneid:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea +bigis</i>,<br /> +<i>Cùm venti posuere</i> . . .<br /> +. . . <i>variæ circumque supraque</i><br /> +<i>Assuetæ ripis volucres</i>, <i>et fluminis alveo</i>,<br +/> +<i>Æthera mulcebant cantu</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The remainder of the action required but three months more; +for when Æneas went for succour to the Tuscans, he found +their army in a readiness to march and wanting only a commander: +so that, according to this calculation, the +“Æneas” takes not up above a year complete, and +may be comprehended in less compass.</p> +<p>This, amongst other circumstances treated more at large by +Segrais, agrees with the rising of Orion, which caused the +tempest described in the beginning of the first book. By +some passages in the “Pastorals,” but more +particularly in the “Georgics,” our poet is found to +be an exact astronomer, according to the knowledge of that +age. Now Ilioneus, whom Virgil twice employs in embassies +as the best speaker of the Trojans, attributes that tempest to +Orion in his speech to Dido:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Cum subito assurgens fluctu nimbosus +Orion.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He must mean either the heliacal or achronical rising of that +sign. The heliacal rising of a constellation is when it +comes from under the rays of the sun, and begins to appear before +daylight. The achronical rising, on the contrary, is when +it appears at the close of day, and in opposition of the +sun’s diurnal course. The heliacal rising of Orion is +at present computed to be about the 6th of July; and about that +time it is that he either causes or presages tempests on the +seas.</p> +<p>Segrais has observed farther, that when Anna counsels Dido to +stay Æneas during the winter, she speaks also of +Orion:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Dum pelago desævit hiems</i>, +<i>et aquosus Orion</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>If therefore Ilioneus, according to our supposition, +understand the heliacal rising of Orion, Anna must mean the +achronical, which the different epithets given to that +constellation seem to manifest. Ilioneus calls him +<i>nimbosus</i>, Anna, <i>aquosus</i>. He is tempestuous in +the summer, when he rises heliacally; and rainy in the winter, +when he rises achronically. Your lordship will pardon me +for the frequent repetition of these cant words, which I could +not avoid in this abbreviation of Segrais, who, I think, deserves +no little commendation in this new criticism.</p> +<p>I have yet a word or two to say of Virgil’s machines, +from my own observation of them. He has imitated those of +Homer, but not copied them. It was established long before +this time, in the Roman religion as well as in the Greek, that +there were gods, and both nations for the most part worshipped +the same deities, as did also the Trojans (from whom the Romans, +I suppose, would rather be thought to derive the rites of their +religion than from the Grecians, because they thought themselves +descended from them). Each of those gods had his proper +office, and the chief of them their particular attendants. +Thus Jupiter had in propriety Ganymede and Mercury, and Juno had +Iris. It was not for Virgil, then, to Create new ministers; +he must take what he found in his religion. It cannot +therefore be said that he borrowed them from Homer, any more than +from Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds +occasion for them, as the Grecian poet did; but he invents the +occasions for which he uses them. Venus, after the +destruction of Troy, had gained Neptune entirely to her party; +therefore we find him busy in the beginning of the +“Æneis” to calm the tempest raised by +Æolus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan fleet to Cumes +in safety, with the loss only of their pilot, for whom he +bargains. I name those two examples—amongst a hundred +which I omit—to prove that Virgil, generally speaking, +employed his machines in performing those things which might +possibly have been done without them. What more frequent +than a storm at sea upon the rising of Orion? What wonder +if amongst so many ships there should one be overset, which was +commanded by Orontes, though half the winds had not been there +which Æolus employed? Might not Palinurus, without a +miracle, fall asleep and drop into the sea, having been +over-wearied with watching, and secure of a quiet passage by his +observation of the skies? At least Æneas, who knew +nothing of the machine of Somnus, takes it plainly in this +sense:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>O nimium coelo et pelago confise +sereno</i>,<br /> +<i>Nudus in ignotâ</i>, <i>Palinure</i>, <i>jacebis +arenâ</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But machines sometimes are specious things to amuse the +reader, and give a colour of probability to things otherwise +incredible; and, besides, it soothed the vanity of the Romans to +find the gods so visibly concerned in all the actions of their +predecessors. We who are better taught by our religion, yet +own every wonderful accident which befalls us for the best, to be +brought to pass by some special providence of Almighty God, and +by the care of guardian angels; and from hence I might infer that +no heroic poem can be writ on the Epicurean principles, which I +could easily demonstrate if there were need to prove it or I had +leisure.</p> +<p>When Venus opens the eyes of her son Æneas to behold the +gods who combated against Troy in that fatal night when it was +surprised, we share the pleasure of that glorious vision (which +Tasso has not ill copied in the sacking of Jerusalem). But +the Greeks had done their business though neither Neptune, Juno, +or Pallas had given them their divine assistance. The most +crude machine which Virgil uses is in the episode of Camilla, +where Opis by the command of her mistress kills Aruns. The +next is in the twelfth Æneid, where Venus cures her son +Æneas. But in the last of these the poet was driven +to a necessity, for Turnus was to be slain that very day; and +Æneas, wounded as he was, could not have engaged him in +single combat unless his hurt had been miraculously healed and +the poet had considered that the dittany which she brought from +Crete could not have wrought so speedy an effect without the +juice of ambrosia which she mingled with it. After all, +that his machine might not seem too violent, we see the hero +limping after Turnus; the wound was skinned, but the strength of +his thigh was not restored. But what reason had our author +to wound Æneas at so critical a time? And how came +the cuishes to be worse tempered than the rest of his armour, +which was all wrought by Vulcan and his journeymen? These +difficulties are not easily to be solved without confessing that +Virgil had not life enough to correct his work, though he had +reviewed it and found those errors, which he resolved to mend; +but being prevented by death, and not willing to leave an +imperfect work behind him, he ordained by his last testament that +his “Æneis” should be burned. As for the +death of Aruns, who was shot by a goddess, the machine was not +altogether so outrageous as the wounding Mars and Venus by the +sword of Diomede. Two divinities, one would have thought, +might have pleaded their prerogative of impassibility, or at +least not have been wounded by any mortal hand. Beside +that, the ἴχωρ which they shed was so very +like our common blood that it was not to be distinguished from it +but only by the name and colour. As for what Horace says in +his “Art of Poetry,” that no machines are to be used +unless on some extraordinary occasion—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Nec deus intersit</i>, <i>nisi dignus +vindice nodus</i>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>that rule is to be applied to the theatre, of which he is then +speaking, and means no more than this—that when the knot of +the play is to be untied, and no other way is left for making the +discovery, then, and not otherwise, let a god descend upon a +rope, and clear the business to the audience. But this has +no relation to the machines which are used in an epic poem.</p> +<p>In the last place, for the dira, or flying pest which, +flapping on the shield of Turnus and fluttering about his head, +disheartened him in the duel, and presaged to him his approaching +death—I might have placed it more properly amongst the +objections, for the critics who lay want of courage to the charge +of Virgil’s hero quote this passage as a main proof of +their assertion. They say our author had not only secured +him before the duel, but also in the beginning of it had given +him the advantage in impenetrable arms and in his sword; for that +of Turnus was not his own (which was forged by Vulcan for his +father), but a weapon which he had snatched in haste, and by +mistake, belonging to his charioteer Metiscus. That after +all this Jupiter, who was partial to the Trojan, and distrustful +of the event, though he had hung the balance and given it a jog +of his hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the +Fates a collateral security by sending the screech-owl to +discourage him; for which they quote these words of +Virgil:—</p> +<blockquote><p> “<i>Non +me tua turbida virtus</i><br /> +<i>Terret</i>, <i>ait</i>; <i>dii me terrent</i>, <i>et Jupiter +hostis</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In answer to which, I say that this machine is one of those +which the poet uses only for ornament, and not out of +necessity. Nothing can be more beautiful or more poetical +than his description of the three Diræ, or the setting of +the balance, which our Milton has borrowed from him, but employed +to a different end; for, first, he makes God Almighty set the +scales for St. Gabriel and Satan, when he knew no combat was to +follow; then he makes the good angel’s scale descend, and +the devil’s mount—quite contrary to Virgil, if I have +translated the three verses according to my author’s +sense:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Jupiter ipse duas æquota examine +lances</i><br /> +<i>Sustinet</i>, <i>et fata imponit diversa duorum</i>;<br /> +<i>Quem damnet labor</i>, <i>et quo vergat pondere +letum</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>For I have taken these words <i>Quem damnet labor</i> in the +sense which Virgil gives them in another place (<i>Damnabis tu +quoque votis</i>), to signify a prosperous event. Yet I +dare not condemn so great a genius as Milton; for I am much +mistaken if he alludes not to the text in Daniel where Belshazzar +was put into the balance and found too light. This is +digression, and I return to my subject. I said above that +these two machines of the balance and the Dira were only +ornamental, and that the success of the duel had been the same +without them; for when Æneas and Turnus stood fronting each +other before the altar, Turnus looked dejected, and his colour +faded in his face, as if he desponded of the victory before the +fight; and not only he, but all his party, when the strength of +the two champions was judged by the proportion of their limbs, +concluded it was <i>impar pugna</i>, and that their chief was +overmatched. Whereupon Juturna, who was of the same +opinion, took this opportunity to break the treaty and renew the +war. Juno herself had plainly told the nymph beforehand +that her brother was to fight</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Imparibus fatis</i>; <i>nec diis</i>, +<i>nec viribus æquis</i>;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>so that there was no need of an apparition to fright Turnus, +he had the presage within himself of his impending destiny. +The Dira only served to confirm him in his first opinion, that it +was his destiny to die in the ensuing combat. And in this +sense are those words of Virgil to be taken—</p> +<blockquote><p> “<i>Non +me tua turbida virtus</i><br /> +<i>Terret</i>, <i>ait</i>; <i>dii me terrent</i>, <i>et Jupiter +hostis</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I doubt not but the adverb <i>solum</i> is to be understood +(“It is not your valour only that gives me this +concernment, but I find also by this portent that Jupiter is my +enemy”); for Turnus fled before, when his first sword was +broken, till his sister supplied him with a better, which indeed +he could not use because Æneas kept him at a distance with +his spear. I wonder Ruæus saw not this, where he +charges his author so unjustly for giving Turnus a second sword +to no purpose. How could he fasten a blow or make a thrust, +when he was not suffered to approach? Besides, the chief +errand of the Dira was to warn Juturna from the field, for she +could have brought the chariot again when she saw her brother +worsted in the duel. I might farther add that Æneas +was so eager of the fight that he left the city, now almost in +his possession, to decide his quarrel with Turnus by the sword; +whereas Turnus had manifestly declined the combat, and suffered +his sister to convey him as far from the reach of his enemy as +she could. I say, not only suffered her, but consented to +it; for it is plain he knew her by these words:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>O soror</i>, <i>et dudum agnovi</i>, +<i>cum prima per artem</i><br /> +<i>Fædera turbasti</i>, <i>teque hæc in bella +dedisti</i>;<br /> +<i>Et tunc necquicquam fallis dea</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I have dwelt so long on this subject that I must contract what +I have to say in reference to my translation, unless I would +swell my preface into a volume, and make it formidable to your +lordship, when you see so many pages yet behind. And, +indeed, what I have already written, either in justification or +praise of Virgil, is against myself for presuming to copy in my +coarse English the thoughts and beautiful expressions of this +inimitable poet, who flourished in an age when his language was +brought to its last perfection, for which it was particularly +owing to him and Horace. I will give your lordship my +opinion that those two friends had consulted each other’s +judgment wherein they should endeavour to excel; and they seem to +have pitched on propriety of thought, elegance of words, and +harmony of numbers. According to this model, Horace wrote +his odes and epodes; for his satires and epistles, being intended +wholly for instruction, required another style—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Ornari res ipsa negat, contenta +doceri”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and therefore, as he himself professes, are <i>sermoni +propriora</i> (nearer prose than verse). But Virgil, who +never attempted the lyric verse, is everywhere elegant, sweet, +and flowing in his hexameters. His words are not only +chosen, but the places in which he ranks them for the sound; he +who removes them from the station wherein their master sets them +spoils the harmony. What he says of the Sibyl’s +prophecies may be as properly applied to every word of +his—they must be read in order as they lie; the least +breath discomposes them, and somewhat of their divinity is +lost. I cannot boast that I have been thus exact in my +verses; but I have endeavoured to follow the example of my +master, and am the first Englishman perhaps who made it his +design to copy him in his numbers, his choice of words, and his +placing them for the sweetness of the sound. On this last +consideration I have shunned the cæsura as much as possibly +I could; for wherever that is used, it gives a roughness to the +verse, of which we can have little need in a language which is +overstocked with consonants. Such is not the Latin where +the vowels and consonants are mixed in proportion to each other; +yet Virgil judged the vowels to have somewhat of an over-balance, +and therefore tempers their sweetness with cæsuras. +Such difference there is in tongues that the same figure which +roughens one, gives majesty to another; and that was it which +Virgil studied in his verses. Ovid uses it but rarely; and +hence it is that his versification cannot so properly be called +sweet as luscious. The Italians are forced upon it once or +twice in every line, because they have a redundancy of vowels in +their language; their metal is so soft that it will not coin +without alloy to harden it. On the other side, for the +reason already named, it is all we can do to give sufficient +sweetness to our language; we must not only choose our words for +elegance, but for sound—to perform which a mastery in the +language is required; the poet must have a magazine of words, and +have the art to manage his few vowels to the best advantage, that +they may go the farther. He must also know the nature of +the vowels—which are more sonorous, and which more soft and +sweet—and so dispose them as his present occasions require; +all which, and a thousand secrets of versification beside, he may +learn from Virgil, if he will take him for his guide. If he +be above Virgil, and is resolved to follow his own <i>verve</i> +(as the French call it), the proverb will fall heavily upon him: +“Who teaches himself has a fool for his master.”</p> +<p>Virgil employed eleven years upon his +“Æneis,” yet he left it, as he thought himself, +imperfect; which, when I seriously consider, I wish that, instead +of three years which I have spent in the translation of his +works, I had four years more allowed me to correct my errors, +that I might make my version somewhat more tolerable than it is; +for a poet cannot have too great a reverence for his readers if +he expects his labours should survive him. Yet I will +neither plead my age nor sickness in excuse of the faults which I +have made. That I wanted time is all I have to say; for +some of my subscribers grew so clamorous that I could no longer +defer the publication. I hope, from the candour of your +lordship, and your often-experienced goodness to me, that if the +faults are not too many you will make allowances, with +Horace:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Si plura nitent in carmine</i>, <i>non +ego paucis</i><br /> +<i>Offendar maculis</i>, <i>quas aut incuria fudit</i>,<br /> +<i>Aut humana parùm cavit natura</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>You may please also to observe that there is not, to the best +of my remembrance, one vowel gaping on another for want of a +cæsura in this whole poem. But where a vowel ends a +word the next begins either with a consonant or what is its +equivalent; for our <i>w</i> and <i>h</i> aspirate, and our +diphthongs, are plainly such. The greatest latitude I take +is in the letter <i>y</i> when it concludes a word and the first +syllable of the next begins with a vowel. Neither need I +have called this a latitude, which is only an explanation of this +general rule—that no vowel can be cut off before another +when we cannot sink the pronunciation of it, as <i>he</i>, +<i>she</i>, <i>me</i>, <i>I</i>, &c. Virgil thinks it +sometimes a beauty to imitate the licence of the Greeks, and +leave two vowels opening on each other, as in that verse of the +third pastoral—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Et succus pecori</i>, <i>et lac +subducitur agnis</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But <i>nobis non licet esse tam disertis</i>—at least, +if we study to refine our numbers. I have long had by me +the materials of an English “Prosodia,” containing +all the mechanical rules of versification, wherein I have treated +with some exactness of the feet, the quantities, and the +pauses. The French and Italians know nothing of the two +first—at least, their best poets have not practised +them. As for the pauses, Malherbe first brought them into +France within this last century, and we see how they adorn their +Alexandrines. But as Virgil propounds a riddle which he +leaves unsolved—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Dic quibus in terris</i>, <i>inscripti +nomina regum</i><br /> +<i>Nascantur flores</i>, <i>et Phyllida solus +habeto</i>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>so I will give your lordship another, and leave the exposition +of it to your acute judgment. I am sure there are few who +make verses have observed the sweetness of these two lines in +“Cooper’s Hill”—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet +not dull;<br /> +Strong without rage; without o’erflowing, +full”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and there are yet fewer who can find the reason of that +sweetness. I have given it to some of my friends in +conversation, and they have allowed the criticism to be +just. But since the evil of false quantities is difficult +to be cured in any modern language; since the French and the +Italians, as well as we, are yet ignorant what feet are to be +used in heroic poetry; since I have not strictly observed those +rules myself which I can teach others; since I pretend to no +dictatorship among my fellow-poets; since, if I should instruct +some of them to make well-running verses, they want genius to +give them strength as well as sweetness; and, above all, since +your lordship has advised me not to publish that little which I +know, I look on your counsel as your command, which I shall +observe inviolably till you shall please to revoke it and leave +me at liberty to make my thoughts public. In the meantime, +that I may arrogate nothing to myself, I must acknowledge that +Virgil in Latin and Spenser in English have been my +masters. Spenser has also given me the boldness to make use +sometimes of his Alexandrine line, which we call, though +improperly, the Pindaric, because Mr. Cowley has often employed +it in his odes. It adds a certain majesty to the verse when +it is used with judgment, and stops the sense from overflowing +into another line. Formerly the French, like us and the +Italians, had but five feet or ten syllables in their heroic +verse; but since Ronsard’s time, as I suppose, they found +their tongue too weak to support their epic poetry without the +addition of another foot. That indeed has given it somewhat +of the run and measure of a trimetre, but it runs with more +activity than strength. Their language is not strong with +sinews, like our English; it has the nimbleness of a greyhound, +but not the bulk and body of a mastiff. Our men and our +verses overbear them by their weight; and <i>pondere</i>, <i>non +numero</i> is the British motto. The French have set up +purity for the standard of their language; and a masculine vigour +is that of ours. Like their tongue is the genius of their +poets, light and trifling in comparison of the English—more +proper for sonnets, madrigals, and elegies than heroic +poetry. The turn on thoughts and words is their chief +talent: but the epic poem is too stately to receive those little +ornaments. The painters draw their nymphs in thin and airy +habits, but the weight of gold and of embroideries is reserved +for queens and goddesses. Virgil is never frequent in those +turns, like Ovid, but much more sparing of them in his +“Æneis” than in his Pastorals and Georgics.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Ignoscenda quidem</i>, <i>scirent si +ignoscere manes</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That turn is beautiful indeed; but he employs it in the story +of Orpheus and Eurydice, not in his great poem. I have used +that licence in his “Æneis” sometimes, but I +own it as my fault; it was given to those who understand no +better. It is like Ovid’s</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Semivirumque bovem</i>, <i>semibovemque +virum</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The poet found it before his critics, but it was a darling sin +which he would not be persuaded to reform.</p> +<p>The want of genius, of which I have accused the French, is +laid to their charge by one of their own great authors, though I +have forgotten his name, and where I read it. If rewards +could make good poets, their great master has not been wanting on +his part in his bountiful encouragements; for he is wise enough +to imitate Augustus if he had a Maro. The Triumvir and +Proscriber had descended to us in a more hideous form than they +now appear, if the emperor had not taken care to make friends of +him and Horace. I confess the banishment of Ovid was a blot +in his escutcheon; yet he was only banished, and who knows but +his crime was capital? And then his exile was a +favour. Ariosto, who, with all his faults, must be +acknowledged a great poet, has put these words into the mouth of +an Evangelist; but whether they will pass for gospel now I cannot +tell:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Non fu si santo ni benigno Augusto,<br /> +Come la tuba di Virgilio suona;<br /> +L’haver havuto in poesia buon gusto,<br /> +La proscrittione iniqua gli pardona.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But heroic poetry is not of the growth of France, as it might +be of England if it were cultivated. Spenser wanted only to +have read the rules of Bossu, for no man was ever born with a +greater genius or had more knowledge to support it. But the +performance of the French is not equal to their skill; and +hitherto we have wanted skill to perform better. Segrais, +whose preface is so wonderfully good, yet is wholly destitute of +elevation; though his version is much better than that of the two +brothers, or any of the rest who have attempted Virgil. +Annibale Caro is a great name amongst the Italians, yet his +translation of the “Æneis” is most scandalously +mean, though he has taken the advantage of writing in blank +verse, and freed himself from the shackles of modern +rhyme—if it be modern; for Le Clerc has told us lately, and +I believe has made it out, that David’s Psalms were written +in as errant rhyme as they are translated. Now if a Muse +cannot run when she is unfettered, it is a sign she has but +little speed. I will not make a digression here, though I +am strangely tempted to it, but will only say that he who can +write well in rhyme may write better in blank verse. Rhyme +is certainly a constraint even to the best poets, and those who +make it with most ease; though perhaps I have as little reason to +complain of that hardship as any man, excepting Quarles and +Withers. What it adds to sweetness, it takes away from +sense; and he who loses the least by it may be called a gainer; +it often makes us swerve from an author’s meaning. As +if a mark he set up for an archer at a great distance, let him +aim as exactly as he can, the least wind will take his arrow and +divert it from the white.</p> +<p>I return to our Italian translator of the +“Æneis;” he is a foot-poet; he lackeys by the +side of Virgil at the best, but never mounts behind him. +Doctor Morelli, who is no mean critic in our poetry, and +therefore may be presumed to be a better in his own language, has +confirmed me in this opinion by his judgment, and thinks withal +that he has often mistaken his master’s sense. I +would say so if I durst, but am afraid I have committed the same +fault more often and more grossly; for I have forsaken +Ruæus (whom generally I follow) in many places, and made +expositions of my own in some, quite contrary to him, of which I +will give but two examples, because they are so near each other +in the tenth Æneid:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Sorti pater æquus +utrique</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Pallas says it to Turnus just before they fight. +Ruæus thinks that the word <i>pater</i> is to be referred +to Evander, the father of Pallas; but how could he imagine that +it was the same thing to Evander if his son were slain, or if he +overcame? The poet certainly intended Jupiter, the common +father of mankind, who, as Pallas hoped, would stand an impartial +spectator of the combat, and not be more favourable to Turnus +than to him. The second is not long after it, and both +before the duel is begun. They are the words of Jupiter, +who comforts Hercules for the death of Pallas, which was +immediately to ensue, and which Hercules could not hinder, though +the young hero had addressed his prayers to him for his +assistance, because the gods cannot control destiny. The +verse follows—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Sic ait</i>; <i>atque oculos Rutulorum +rejicit arvis</i>”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>which the same Ruæus thus construes: “Jupiter, +after he had said this, immediately turns his eyes to the +Rutulian fields and beholds the duel.” I have given +this place another exposition—that he turned his eyes from +the field of combat that he might not behold a sight so +unpleasing to him. The word <i>rejicit</i>, I know, will +admit of both senses; but Jupiter having confessed that he could +not alter fate, and being grieved he could not in consideration +of Hercules, it seems to me that he should avert his eyes rather +than take pleasure in the spectacle. But of this I am not +so confident as the other, though I think I have followed +Virgil’s sense.</p> +<p>What I have said, though it has the face of arrogance, yet is +intended for the honour of my country, and therefore I will +boldly own that this English translation has more of +Virgil’s spirit in it than either the French or the +Italian. Some of our countrymen have translated episodes +and other parts of Virgil with great success; as particularly +your lordship, whose version of Orpheus and Eurydice is eminently +good. Amongst the dead authors, the Silenus of my Lord +Rescommon cannot be too much commended. I say nothing of +Sir John Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cowley; it is the utmost of +my ambition to be thought their equal, or not to be much inferior +to them and some others of the living. But it is one thing +to take pains on a fragment and translate it perfectly, and +another thing to have the weight of a whole author on my +shoulders. They who believe the burden light, let them +attempt the fourth, sixth, or eighth Pastoral; the first or +fourth Georgic; and, amongst the Æneids, the fourth, the +fifth, the seventh, the ninth, the tenth, the eleventh, or the +twelfth, for in these I think I have succeeded best.</p> +<p>Long before I undertook this work I was no stranger to the +original. I had also studied Virgil’s design, his +disposition of it, his manners, his judicious management of the +figures, the sober retrenchments of his sense, which always +leaves somewhat to gratify our imagination, on which it may +enlarge at pleasure; but, above all, the elegance of his +expressions and the harmony of his numbers. For, as I have +said in a former dissertation, the words are in poetry what the +colours are in painting. If the design be good, and the +draft be true, the colouring is the first beauty that strikes the +eye. Spenser and Milton are the nearest in English to +Virgil and Horace in the Latin, and I have endeavoured to form my +style by imitating their masters. I will farther own to +you, my lord, that my chief ambition is to please those readers +who have discernment enough to prefer Virgil before any other +poet in the Latin tongue. Such spirits as he desired to +please, such would I choose for my judges, and would stand or +fall by them alone. Segrais has distinguished the readers +of poetry, according to their capacity of judging, into three +classes (he might have said the same of writers, too, if he had +pleased). In the lowest form he places those whom he calls +<i>les petits esprits</i>—such things as are our +upper-gallery audience in a playhouse, who like nothing but the +husk and rind of wit; prefer a quibble, a conceit, an epigram, +before solid sense and elegant expression. These are +mob-readers. If Virgil and Martial steed for +Parliament-men, we know already who would carry it. But +though they make the greatest appearance in the field, and cry +the loudest, the best of it is they are but a sort of French +Huguenots, or Dutch boors, brought ever in herds, but not +naturalised, who have not land of two pounds per annum in +Parnassus, and therefore are not privileged to poll. Their +authors are of the same level; fit to represent them on a +mountebank’s stage, or to be masters of the ceremonies in a +bear-garden. Yet these are they who have the most +admirers. But it often happens, to their mortification, +that as their readers improve their stock of sense (as they may +by reading better books, and by conversation with men of +judgment), they soon forsake them; and when the torrent from the +mountains falls no more, the swelling writer is reduced into his +shallow bed, like the Mançanares at Madrid, with scarce +water to moisten his own pebbles. There are a middle sort +of readers (as we held there is a middle state of souls), such as +have a farther insight than the former, yet have not the capacity +of judging right; for I speak not of those who are bribed by a +party, and knew better if they were not corrupted, but I mean a +company of warm young men, who are not yet arrived so far as to +discern the difference betwixt fustian or ostentations sentences +and the true sublime. These are above liking Martial or +Owen’s epigrams, but they would certainly set Virgil below +Statius or Lucan. I need not say their poets are of the +same paste with their admirers. They affect greatness in +all they write, but it is a bladdered greatness, like that of the +vain man whom Seneca describes an ill habit of body, full of +humours, and swelled with dropsy. Even these, too, desert +their authors as their judgment ripens. The young gentlemen +themselves are commonly misled by their pedagogue at school, +their tutor at the university, or their governor in their +travels, and many of these three sorts are the most positive +blockheads in the world. How many of these flatulent +writers have I known who have sunk in their reputation after +seven or eight editions of their works! for indeed they are poets +only for young men. They had great success at their first +appearance, but not being of God, as a wit said formerly, they +could not stand.</p> +<p>I have already named two sorts of judges, but Virgil wrote for +neither of them, and by his example I am not ambitious of +pleasing the lowest or the middle form of readers. He chose +to please the most judicious souls, of the highest rank and +truest understanding. These are few in number; but whoever +is so happy as to gain their approbation can never lose it, +because they never give it blindly. Then they have a +certain magnetism in their judgment which attracts others to +their sense. Every day they gain some new proselyte, and in +time become the Church. For this reason a well-weighed +judicious poem, which at its first appearance gains no more upon +the world than to be just received, and rather not blamed than +much applauded, insinuates itself by insensible degrees into the +liking of the reader; the more he studies it, the more it grows +upon him, every time he takes it up he discovers some new graces +in it. And whereas poems which are produced by the vigour +of imagination only have a gloss upon them at the first (which +time wears off), the works of judgment are like the diamond, the +more they are polished the more lustre they receive. Such +is the difference betwixt Virgil’s +“Æneis” and Marini’s +“Adone.” And if I may be allowed to change the +metaphor, I would say that Virgil is like the Fame which he +describes:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Mobilitate viget</i>, <i>viresque +acquirit eundo</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Such a sort of reputation is my aim, though in a far inferior +degree, according to my motto in the +title-page—<i>sequiturque patrem non passibus +æquis</i>—and therefore I appeal to the highest court +of judicature, like that of the peers, of which your lordship is +so great an ornament.</p> +<p>Without this ambition which I own, of desiring to please the +<i>judices natos</i>, I could never have been able to have done +anything at this age, when the fire of poetry is commonly +extinguished in other men. Yet Virgil has given me the +example of Entellus for my encouragement; when he was well +heated, the younger champion could not stand before him. +And we find the elder contended not for the gift, but for the +honour (<i>nec dona moror</i>); for Dampier has informed us in +his “Voyages” that the air of the country which +produces gold is never wholesome.</p> +<p>I had long since considered that the way to please the best +judges is not to translate a poet literally, and Virgil least of +any other; for his peculiar beauty lying in his choice of words, +I am excluded from it by the narrow compass of our heroic verse, +unless I would make use of monosyllables only, and these clogged +with consonants, which are the dead weight of our mother +tongue. It is possible, I confess, though it rarely +happens, that a verse of monosyllables may sound harmoniously; +and some examples of it I have seen. My first line of the +“Æneis” is not harsh—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Arms, and the man I sing, who forced by +Fate,” &c.—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>but a much better instance may be given from the last line of +Manilius, made English by our learned and judicious Mr. +Creech—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Nor could the world have borne so fierce a +flame”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>where the many liquid consonants are placed so artfully that +they give a pleasing sound to the words, though they are all of +one syllable. It is true, I have been sometimes forced upon +it in other places of this work, but I never did it out of +choice: I was either in haste, or Virgil gave me no occasion for +the ornament of words; for it seldom happens but a monosyllable +line turns verse to prose, and even that prose is rugged and +unharmonious. Philarchus, I remember, taxes Balzac for +placing twenty monosyllables in file without one dissyllable +betwixt them.</p> +<p>The way I have taken is not so strait as metaphrase, nor so +loose as paraphrase; some things, too, I have omitted, and +sometimes have added of my own. Yet the omissions, I hope, +are but of circumstances, and such as would have no grace in +English; and the additions, I also hope, are easily deduced from +Virgil’s sense. They will seem (at least, I have the +vanity to think so), not stuck into him, but growing out of +him. He studies brevity more than any other poet; but he +had the advantage of a language wherein much may be comprehended +in a little space. We and all the modern tongues have more +articles and pronouns, besides signs of tenses and cases, and +other barbarities on which our speech is built, by the faults of +our forefathers. The Romans founded theirs upon the Greek; +and the Greeks, we know, were labouring many hundred years upon +their language before they brought it to perfection. They +rejected all those signs, and cut off as many articles as they +could spare, comprehending in one word what we are constrained to +express in two; which is one reason why we cannot write so +concisely as they have done. The word <i>pater</i>, for +example, signifies not only “a father,” but +“your father,” “my father,” “his or +her father”—all included in a word.</p> +<p>This inconvenience is common to all modern tongues, and this +alone constrains us to employ more words than the ancients +needed. But having before observed that Virgil endeavours +to be short, and at the same time elegant, I pursue the +excellence and forsake the brevity. For there he is like +ambergris, a rich perfume, but of so close and glutinous a body +that it must be opened with inferior scents of musk or civet, or +the sweetness will not be drawn out into another language.</p> +<p>On the whole matter I thought fit to steer betwixt the two +extremes of paraphrase and literal translation; to keep as near +my author as I could without losing all his graces, the most +eminent of which are in the beauty of his words: and those words, +I must add, are always figurative. Such of these as would +retain their elegance in our tongue, I have endeavoured to graff +on it; but most of them are of necessity to be lest, because they +will not shine in any but their own. Virgil has sometimes +two of them in a line; but the scantiness of our heroic verse is +not capable of receiving more than one; and that, too, must +expiate for many others which have none. Such is the +difference of the languages, or such my want of skill in choosing +words. Yet I may presume to say, and I hope with as much +reason as the French translator, that, taking all the materials +of this divine author, I have endeavoured to make Virgil speak +such English as he would himself have spoken if he had been born +in England and in this present age. I acknowledge, with +Segrais, that I have not succeeded in this attempt according to +my desire; yet I shall not be wholly without praise, if in some +sort I may be allowed to have copied the clearness, the purity, +the easiness, and the magnificence of his style. But I +shall have occasion to speak farther on this subject before I end +the preface.</p> +<p>When I mentioned the Pindaric line, I should have added that I +take another licence in my verses; for I frequently make use of +triplet rhymes, and for the same reason—because they bound +the sense. And therefore I generally join these two +licences together, and make the last verse of the triplet a +Pindaric; for besides the majesty which it gives, it confines the +sense within the barriers of three lines, which would languish if +it were lengthened into four. Spenser is my example for +both these privileges of English verses; and Chapman has followed +him in his translation of Homer. Mr. Cowley has given in to +them after both; and all succeeding writers after him. I +regard them now as the <i>Magna Charta</i> of heroic poetry; and +am too much an Englishman to lose what my ancestors have gained +for me. Let the French and Italians value themselves on +their regularity; strength and elevation are our standard. +I said before, and I repeat it, that the affected purity of the +French has unsinewed their heroic verse. The language of an +epic poem is almost wholly figurative; yet they are so fearful of +a metaphor that no example of Virgil can encourage them to be +bold with safety. Sure, they might warm themselves by that +sprightly blaze, without approaching it so close as to singe +their wings; they may come as near it as their master. Not +that I would discourage that purity of diction in which he excels +all other poets; but he knows how far to extend his franchises, +and advances to the verge without venturing a foot beyond +it. On the other side, without being injurious to the +memory of our English Pindar, I will presume to say that his +metaphors are sometimes too violent, and his language is not +always pure. But at the same time I must excuse him, for +through the iniquity of the times he was forced to travel at an +age when, instead of learning foreign languages, he should have +studied the beauties of his mother tongue, which, like all other +speeches, is to be cultivated early, or we shall never write it +with any kind of elegance. Thus by gaining abroad he lost +at home, like the painter in the “Arcadia,” who, +going to see a skirmish, had his arms lopped off, and returned, +says Sir Philip Sidney, well instructed how to draw a battle, but +without a hand to perform his work.</p> +<p>There is another thing in which I have presumed to deviate +from him and Spenser. They both make hemistichs, or +half-verses, breaking off in the middle of a line. I +confess there are not many such in the “Faërie +Queen,” and even those few might be occasioned by his +unhappy choice of so long a stanza. Mr. Cowley had found +out that no kind of staff is proper for an heroic poem, as being +all too lyrical; yet though he wrote in couplets, where rhyme is +freer from constraint, he frequently affects half-verses, of +which we find not one in Homer, and I think not in any of the +Greek poets or the Latin, excepting only Virgil: and there is no +question but he thought he had Virgil’s authority for that +licence. But I am confident our poet never meant to leave +him or any other such a precedent; and I ground my opinion on +these two reasons: first, we find no example of a hemistich in +any of his Pastorals or Georgics, for he had given the last +finishing strokes to both these poems; but his +“Æneis” he left so incorrect, at least so short +of that perfection at which he aimed, that we know how hard a +sentence he passed upon it. And, in the second place, I +reasonably presume that he intended to have filled up all these +hemistichs, because in one of them we find the sense +imperfect:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Quem tibi jam Troja</i> . . . ” +(“Æn.” iii. 340.)</p> +</blockquote> +<p>which some foolish grammarian has ended for him with a +half-line of nonsense:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Peperit fumante Creusa</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>For Ascanius must have been born some years before the burning +of that city, which I need not prove. On the other side we +find also that he himself filled up one line in the sixth +Æneid, the enthusiasm seizing him while he was reading to +Augustus:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Misenum Æolidem</i>, <i>quo non +præstantior alter</i><br /> +<i>Ære ciere viros</i>, . . . ”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>to which he added in that transport, <i>Martemque accendare +cantu</i>, and never was any line more nobly finished, for the +reasons which I have given in the “Book of +Painting.”</p> +<p>On these considerations I have shunned hemistichs, not being +willing to imitate Virgil to a fault, like Alexander’s +courtiers, who affected to hold their necks awry because he could +not help it. I am confident your lordship is by this time +of my opinion, and that you will look on those half-lines +hereafter as the imperfect products of a hasty muse, like the +frogs and serpents in the Nile, part of them kindled into life, +and part a lump of unformed, unanimated mud.</p> +<p>I am sensible that many of my whole verses are as imperfect as +those halves, for want of time to digest them better. But +give me leave to make the excuse of Boccace, who, when he was +upbraided that some of his novels had not the spirit of the rest, +returned this answer: that Charlemagne, who made the Paladins, +was never able to raise an army of them. The leaders may be +heroes, but the multitude must consist of common men.</p> +<p>I am also bound to tell your lordship, in my own defence, that +from the beginning of the first Georgic to the end of the last +Æneid, I found the difficulty of translation growing on me +in every succeeding book. For Virgil, above all poets, had +a stock which I may call almost inexhaustible, of figurative, +elegant, and sounding words. I, who inherit but a small +portion of his genius, and write in a language so much inferior +to the Latin, have found it very painful to vary phrases when the +same sense returns upon me. Even he himself, whether out of +necessity or choice, has often expressed the same thing in the +same words, and often repeated two or three whole verses which he +had used before. Words are not so easily coined as money; +and yet we see that the credit not only of banks, but of +exchequers, cracks when little comes in and much goes out. +Virgil called upon me in every line for some new word, and I paid +so long that I was almost bankrupt; so that the latter end must +needs be more burthensome than the beginning or the middle; and +consequently the twelfth Æneid cost me double the time of +the first and second. What had become of me, if Virgil had +taxed me with another book? I had certainly been reduced to +pay the public in hammered money for want of milled; that is, in +the same old words which I had used before; and the receivers +must have been forced to have taken anything, where there was so +little to be had.</p> +<p>Besides this difficulty with which I have struggled and made a +shift to pass it ever, there is one remaining, which is +insuperable to all translators. We are bound to our +author’s sense, though with the latitudes already +mentioned; for I think it not so sacred as that one iota must not +be added or diminished, on pain of an anathema. But slaves +we are, and labour on another man’s plantation; we dress +the vineyard, but the wine is the owner’s. If the +soil be sometimes barren, then we are sure of being scourged; if +it be fruitful, and our care succeeds, we are not thanked; for +the proud reader will only say—the poor drudge has done his +duty. But this is nothing to what follows; for being +obliged to make his sense intelligible, we are forced to untune +our own verses that we may give his meaning to the reader. +He who invents is master of his thoughts and words: he can turn +and vary them as he pleases, till he renders them +harmonious. But the wretched translator has no such +privilege, for being tied to the thoughts, he must make what +music he can in the expression; and for this reason it cannot +always be so sweet as that of the original. There is a +beauty of sound, as Segrais has observed, in some Latin words, +which is wholly lost in any modern language. He instances +in that <i>mollis amaracus</i>, on which Venus lays Cupid in the +first Æneid. If I should translate it sweet-marjoram, +as the word signifies, the reader would think I had mistaken +Virgil; for these village-words, as I may call them, give us a +mean idea of the thing; but the sound of the Latin is so much +more pleasing, by the just mixture of the vowels with the +consonants, that it raises our fancies to conceive somewhat more +noble than a common herb, and to spread roses under him, and +strew lilies over him—a bed not unworthy the grandson of +the goddess.</p> +<p>If I cannot copy his harmonious numbers, how shall I imitate +his noble flights, where his thoughts and words are equally +sublime? <i>Quem</i></p> +<blockquote><p>“ . . . <i>quisquis studet +æmulari</i>,<br /> +. . . <i>cæratis ope Dedaleâ</i><br /> +<i>Nititur pennis</i>, <i>vitreo daturus</i><br /> + <i>Nomina ponto</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>What modern language or what poet can express the majestic +beauty of this one verse, amongst a thousand others?</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Aude</i>, <i>hospes</i>, <i>contemnere +opes</i>, <i>et te quoque dignum</i><br /> +<i>Finge Deo</i> . . . ”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>For my part, I am lost in the admiration of it. I +contemn the world when I think on it, and myself when I translate +it.</p> +<p>Lay by Virgil, I beseech your lordship and all my better sort +of judges, when you take up my version, and it will appear a +passable beauty when the original muse is absent; but like +Spenser’s false Florimel, made of snow, it melts and +vanishes when the true one comes in sight.</p> +<p>I will not excuse, but justify, myself for one pretended crime +with which I am liable to be charged by false critics, not only +in this translation, but in many of my original poems—that +I Latinise too much. It is true, that when I find an +English word significant and sounding, I neither borrow from the +Latin nor any other language; but when I want at home, I must +seek abroad. If sounding words are not of our growth and +manufacture, who shall hinder me to import them from a foreign +country? I carry not out the treasure of the nation which +is never to return, but what I bring from Italy I spend in +England. Here it remains and here it circulates, for if the +coin be good it will pass from one hand to another. I trade +both with the living and the dead for the enrichment of our +native language. We have enough in England to supply our +necessity; but if we will have things of magnificence and +splendour, we must get them by commerce. Poetry requires +ornament, and that is not to be had from our old Teuton +monosyllables; therefore, if I find any elegant word in a classic +author, I propose it to be naturalised by using it myself; and if +the public approves of it, the bill passes. But every man +cannot distinguish betwixt pedantry and poetry; every man, +therefore, is not fit to innovate.</p> +<p>Upon the whole matter, a poet must first be certain that the +word he would introduce is beautiful in the Latin; and is to +consider, in the next place, whether it will agree with the +English idiom. After this he ought to take the opinion of +judicious friends, such as are learned in both languages; and +lastly, since no man is infallible, let him use this licence very +sparingly; for if too many foreign words are poured in upon us, +it looks as if they were designed not to assist the natives, but +to conquer them.</p> +<p>I am now drawing towards a conclusion, and suspect your +lordship is very glad of it. But permit me first to own +what helps I have had in this undertaking. The late Earl of +Lauderdale sent me over his new translation of the +“Æneis,” which he had ended before I engaged in +the same design. Neither did I then intend it; but some +proposals being afterwards made me by my bookseller, I desired +his lordship’s leave that I might accept them, which he +freely granted, and I have his letter yet to show for that +permission. He resolved to have printed his work, which he +might have done two years before I could publish mine; and had +performed it, if death had not prevented him. But having +his manuscript in my hands, I consulted it as often as I doubted +of my author’s sense, for no man understood Virgil better +than that learned nobleman. His friends, I hear, have yet +another and more correct copy of that translation by them, which +had they pleased to have given the public, the judges must have +been convinced that I have not flattered him.</p> +<p>Besides this help, which was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve +has done me the favour to review the “Æneis,” +and compare my version with the original. I shall never be +ashamed to own that this excellent young man has shown me many +faults, which I have endeavoured to correct. It is true he +might have easily found more, and then my translation had been +more perfect.</p> +<p>Two other worthy friends of mine, who desire to have their +names concealed, seeing me straitened in my time, took pity on me +and gave me the life of Virgil, the two prefaces—to the +Pastorals and the Georgics—and all the arguments in prose +to the whole translation; which perhaps has caused a report that +the two first poems are not mine. If it had been true that +I had taken their verses for my own, I might have gloried in +their aid; and like Terence, have farthered the opinion that +Scipio and Lælius joined with me. But the same style +being continued through the whole, and the same laws of +versification observed, are proofs sufficient that this is one +man’s work; and your lordship is too well acquainted with +my manner to doubt that any part of it is another’s.</p> +<p>That your lordship may see I was in earnest when I premised to +hasten to an end, I will not give the reasons why I writ not +always in the proper terms of navigation, land-service, or in the +cant of any profession. I will only say that Virgil has +avoided these proprieties, because he writ not to mariners, +soldiers, astronomers, gardeners, peasants, &c., but to all +in general, and in particular to men and ladies of the first +quality, who have been better bred than to be too nicely knowing +in the terms. In such cases, it is enough for a poet to +write so plainly that he may be understood by his readers; to +avoid impropriety, and not affect to be thought learned in all +things.</p> +<p>I have emitted the four preliminary lines of the first +Æneid, because I think them inferior to any four others in +the whole poem; and consequently believe they are not +Virgil’s. There is too great a gap betwixt the +adjective <i>vicina</i> in the second line, and the substantive +<i>arva</i> in the latter end of the third; which keeps his +meaning in obscurity too long, and is contrary to the clearness +of his style. <i>Ut quamvis avido</i> is too ambitious an +ornament to be his, and <i>gratum opus agricolis</i> are all +words unnecessary, and independent of what he had said +before. <i>Horrentia Martis arma</i> is worse than any of +the rest. <i>Horrentia</i> is such a flat epithet as Tully +would have given us in his verses. It is a mere filler to +stop a vacancy in the hexameter, and connect the preface to the +work of Virgil.</p> +<p>Our author seems to sound a charge, and begins like the +clangour of a trumpet:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Arma</i>, <i>virumque cano</i>, +<i>Trojæ qui primus ab oris</i>,”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Scarce a word without an <i>r</i>, and the vowels for the +greater part sonorous. The prefacer began with <i>Ille +ego</i>, which he was constrained to patch up in the fourth line +with <i>at nunc</i> to make the sense cohere; and if both those +words are not notorious botches I am much deceived, though the +French translator thinks otherwise. For my own part, I am +rather of the opinion that they were added by Tucca and Varius, +than retrenched.</p> +<p>I know it may be answered by such as think Virgil the author +of the four lines—that he asserts his title to the +“Æneis” in the beginning of this work, as he +did to the two former, in the last lines of the fourth +Georgic. I will not reply otherwise to this, than by +desiring them to compare these four lines with the four others, +which we know are his, because no poet but he alone could write +them. If they cannot distinguish creeping from flying, let +them lay down Virgil, and take up Ovid de Ponto in his +stead. My master needed not the assistance of that +preliminary poet to prove his claim: his own majestic mien +discovers him to be the king amidst a thousand courtiers. +It was a superfluous office, and therefore I would not set those +verses in the front of Virgil; but have rejected them to my own +preface:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I, who before, with shepherds in the +groves,<br /> +Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves,<br /> +And issuing thence, compelled the neighb’ring field<br /> +A plenteous crop of rising corn to yield;<br /> +Manured the glebe, and stocked the fruitful plain<br /> +(A poem grateful to the greedy swain),” &c.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>If there be not a tolerable line in all these six, the +prefacer gave me no occasion to write better. This is a +just apology in this place; but I have done great wrong to Virgil +in the whole translation. Want of time, the inferiority of +our language, the inconvenience of rhyme, and all the other +excuses I have made, may alleviate my fault, but cannot justify +the boldness of my undertaking. What avails it me to +acknowledge freely that I have not been able to do him right in +any line? For even my own confession makes against me; and +it will always be returned upon me, “Why, then, did you +attempt it?” To which no other answer can be made, +than that I have done him less injury than any of his former +libellers.</p> +<p>What they called his picture had been drawn at length so many +times by the daubers of almost all nations, and still so unlike +him, that I snatched up the pencil with disdain, being satisfied +beforehand that I could make some small resemblance of him, +though I must be content with a worse likeness. A sixth +Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a single Orpheus, and some other +features have been exactly taken. But those holiday authors +writ for pleasure, and only showed us what they could have done +if they would have taken pains to perform the whole.</p> +<p>Be pleased, my lord, to accept with your wonted goodness this +unworthy present which I make you. I have taken off one +trouble from you, of defending it, by acknowledging its +imperfections; and though some part of them are covered in the +verse (as Ericthonius rode always in a chariot to hide his +lameness), such of them as cannot be concealed you will please to +connive at, though in the strictness of your judgment you cannot +pardon. If Homer was allowed to nod sometimes, in so long a +work it will be no wonder if I often fall asleep. You took +my “Aurengzebe” into your protection with all his +faults; and I hope here cannot be so many, because I translate an +author who gives me such examples of correctness. What my +jury may be I know not; but it is good for a criminal to plead +before a favourable judge: if I had said partial, would your +lordship have forgiven me? Or will you give me leave to +acquaint the world that I have many times been obliged to your +bounty since the Revolution? Though I never was reduced to +beg a charity, nor ever had the impudence to ask one, either of +your lordship or your noble kinsman the Earl of Dorset, much less +of any other, yet when I least expected it you have both +remembered me, so inherent it is in your family not to forget an +old servant. It looks rather like ingratitude on my part, +that where I have been so often obliged, I have appeared so +seldom to return my thanks, and where I was also so sure of being +well received. Somewhat of laziness was in the case, and +somewhat too of modesty; but nothing of disrespect or of +unthankfulness. I will not say that your lordship has +encouraged me to this presumption, lest, if my labours meet with +no success in public, I may expose your judgment to be +censured. As for my own enemies, I shall never think them +worth an answer; and if your lordship has any, they will not dare +to arraign you for want of knowledge in this art till they can +produce somewhat better of their own than your “Essay on +Poetry.” It was on this consideration that I have +drawn out my preface to so great a length. Had I not +addressed to a poet and a critic of the first magnitude, I had +myself been taxed for want of judgment, and shamed my patron for +want of understanding. But neither will you, my lord, so +soon be tired as any other, because the discourse is on your art; +neither will the learned reader think it tedious, because it is +<i>ad Clerum</i>: at least, when he begins to be weary, the +church doors are open. That I may pursue the allegory with +a short prayer after a long sermon.</p> +<p>May you live happily and long for the service of your country, +the encouragement of good letters and the ornament of poetry, +which cannot be wished more earnestly by any man than by</p> +<p style="text-align: center">Your Lordship’s most +humble,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">Most obliged and most<br /> +Obedient servant,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">John +Dryden</span>.</p> +<h3>POSTSCRIPT.</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">What</span> Virgil wrote in the vigour of +his age (in plenty and at ease) I have undertaken to translate in +my declining years; struggling with wants, oppressed by sickness, +curbed in my genius, liable to be misconstrued in all I write; +and my judges, if they are not very equitable, already prejudiced +against me by the lying character which has been given them of my +morals. Yet steady to my principles, and not dispirited +with my afflictions, I have, by the blessing of God on my +endeavours, overcome all difficulties; and, in some measure, +acquitted myself of the debt which I owed the public when I +undertook this work. In the first place, therefore, I +thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power the assistance He +has given me in the beginning, the prosecution, and conclusion of +my present studies, which are more happily performed than I could +have promised to myself when I laboured under such +discouragements. For what I have done, imperfect as it is +for want of health and leisure to correct it, will be judged in +after-ages, and possibly in the present, to be no dishonour to my +native country, whose language and poetry would be more esteemed +abroad if they were better understood. Somewhat (give me +leave to say) I have added to both of them in the choice of words +and harmony of numbers, which were wanting, especially the last, +in all our poets; even in those who being endued with genius yet +have not cultivated their mother-tongue with sufficient care, or, +relying on the beauty of their thoughts, have judged the ornament +of words and sweetness of sound unnecessary. One is for +raking in Chaucer (our English Ennius) for antiquated words, +which are never to be revived but when sound or significancy is +wanting in the present language. But many of his deserve +not this redemption any more than the crowds of men who daily +die, or are slain for sixpence in a battle, merit to be restored +to life if a wish could revive them. Others have no ear for +verse, nor choice of words, nor distinction of thoughts, but +mingle farthings with their gold to make up the sum. Here +is a field of satire opened to me, but since the Revolution I +have wholly renounced that talent. For who would give +physic to the great, when he is uncalled, to do his patient no +good and endanger himself for his prescription? Neither am +I ignorant but I may justly be condemned for many of these faults +of which I have too liberally arraigned others:</p> + +<blockquote><p> “<i>Cynthius +aurem</i><br /> +<i>Vellit</i>, <i>et admonuit</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is enough for me if the government will let me pass +unquestioned. In the meantime I am obliged in gratitude to +return my thanks to many of them, who have not only distinguished +me from others of the same party by a particular exception of +grace, but without considering the man have been bountiful to the +poet, have encouraged Virgil to speak such English as I could +teach him, and rewarded his interpreter for the pains he has +taken in bringing him over into Britain by defraying the charges +of his voyage. Even Cerberus, when he had received the sop, +permitted Æneas to pass freely to Elysium. Had it +been offered me and I had refused it, yet still some gratitude is +due to such who were willing to oblige me. But how much +more to those from whom I have received the favours which they +have offered to one of a different persuasion; amongst whom I +cannot omit naming the Earls of Derby and of Peterborough. +To the first of these I have not the honour to be known, and +therefore his liberality [was] as much unexpected as it was +undeserved. The present Earl of Peterborough has been +pleased long since to accept the tenders of my service: his +favours are so frequent to me that I receive them almost by +prescription. No difference of interests or opinion has +been able to withdraw his protection from me, and I might justly +be condemned for the most unthankful of mankind if I did not +always preserve for him a most profound respect and inviolable +gratitude. I must also add that if the last Æneid +shine amongst its fellows, it is owing to the commands of Sir +William Trumbull, one of the principal Secretaries of State, who +recommended it, as his favourite, to my care; and for his sake +particularly I have made it mine. For who would confess +weariness when he enjoined a fresh labour? I could not but +invoke the assistance of a muse for this last office:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Extremum hunc</i>, <i>Arethusa</i>; . . +.<br /> +. . . <i>neget quis carmina Gallo</i>?”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Neither am I to forget the noble present which was made me by +Gilbert Dolben, Esq., the worthy son of the late Archbishop of +York, who (when I began this work) enriched me with all the +several editions of Virgil and all the commentaries of those +editions in Latin, amongst which I could not but prefer the +Dauphin’s as the last, the shortest, and the most +judicious. Fabrini I had also sent me from Italy, but +either he understands Virgil very imperfectly or I have no +knowledge of my author.</p> +<p>Being invited by that worthy gentleman, Sir William Bowyer, to +Denham Court, I translated the first Georgic at his house and the +greatest part of the last Æneid. A more friendly +entertainment no man ever found. No wonder, therefore, if +both these versions surpass the rest; and own the satisfaction I +received in his converse, with whom I had the honour to be bred +in Cambridge, and in the same college. The seventh +Æneid was made English at Burghley, the magnificent abode +of the Earl of Exeter. In a village belonging to his family +I was born, and under his roof I endeavoured to make that +Æneid appear in English with as much lustre as I could, +though my author has not given the finishing strokes either to it +or to the eleventh, as I perhaps could prove in both if I durst +presume to criticise my master.</p> +<p>By a letter from William Walsh, Esq., of Abberley (who has so +long honoured me with his friendship, and who, without flattery, +is the best critic of our nation), I have been informed that his +Grace the Duke of Shrewsbury has procured a printed copy of the +Pastorals, Georgics, and six first Æneids from my +bookseller, and has read them in the country together with my +friend. This noble person (having been pleased to give them +a commendation which I presume not to insert) has made me vain +enough to boast of so great a favour, and to think I have +succeeded beyond my hopes; the character of his excellent +judgment, the acuteness of his wit, and his general knowledge of +good letters, being known as well to all the world as the +sweetness of his disposition, his humanity, his easiness of +access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of his +protection are known to all who have approached him, and to me in +particular, who have formerly had the honour of his +conversation. Whoever has given the world the translation +of part of the third Georgic (which he calls “The Power of +Love”) has put me to sufficient pains to make my own not +inferior to his; as my Lord Roscommon’s +“Silenus” had formerly given me the same +trouble. The most ingenious Mr. Addison, of Oxford, has +also been as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the same +account; after his bees my latter swarm is scarcely worth the +hiving. Mr. Cowley’s praise of a country life is +excellent, but it is rather an imitation of Virgil than a +version. That I have recovered in some measure the health +which I had lost by too much application to this work, is owing +(next to God’s mercy) to the skill and care of Dr. Guibbons +and Dr. Hobbs (the two ornaments of their profession), whom I can +only pay by this acknowledgment. The whole faculty has +always been ready to oblige me, and the only one of them who +endeavoured to defame me had it not in his power. I desire +pardon from my readers for saying so much in relation to myself +which concerns not them; and with my acknowledgments to all my +subscribers, have only to add that the few notes which follow are +<i>par manière d’acquit</i>, because I had obliged +myself by articles to do somewhat of that kind. These +scattering observations are rather guesses at my author’s +meaning in some passages than proofs that so he meant. The +unlearned may have recourse to any poetical dictionary in English +for the names of persons, places, or fables, which the learned +need not, but that little which I say is either new or necessary, +and the first of these qualifications never fails to invite a +reader, if not to please him.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DISCOURSES ON SATIRE AND ON EPIC +POETRY***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 2615-h.htm or 2615-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/1/2615 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk +from the 1888 Cassell & Company edition. + + + + + +DISCOURSES ON SATIRE AND ON EPIC POETRY + +by John Dryden + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + + +Dryden's discourses upon Satire and Epic Poetry belong to the latter +years of his life, and represent maturer thought than is to be found +in his "Essay of Dramatic Poesie." That essay, published in 1667, +draws its chief interest from the time when it was written. A Dutch +fleet was at the mouth of the Thames. Dryden represents himself +taking a boat down the river with three friends, one of them his +brother-in-law Sir Robert Howard, another Sir Charles Sedley, and +another Charles Sackville Lord Buckhurst to whom, as Earl of Dorset, +the "Discourse of Satire" is inscribed. They go down the river to +hear the guns at sea, and judge by the sound whether the Dutch fleet +be advancing or retreating. On the way they talk of the plague of +Odes that will follow an English victory; their talk of verse +proceeds to plays, with particular attention to a question that had +been specially argued before the public between Dryden and his +brother-in-law Sir Robert Howard. The question touched the use of +blank verse in the drama. Dryden had decided against it as a +worthless measure, and the chief feature of the Essay, which was +written in dialogue, was its support of Dryden's argument. But in +that year (1667) "Paradise Lost" was published, and Milton's blank +verse was the death of Dryden's theories. After a few years Dryden +recanted his error. The "Essay of Dramatic Poesie" is interesting +as a setting forth in 1667 of mistaken critical opinions which were +at that time in the ascendant, but had not very long to live. +Dryden always wrote good masculine prose, and all his critical +essays are good reading as pieces of English. His "Essay of +Dramatic Poesie" is good reading as illustrative of the weakness of +our literature in the days of the influence of France after the +Restoration. The essays on Satire and on Epic Poetry represent also +the influence of the French critical school, but represent it in a +larger way, with indications of its strength as well as of its +weakness. They represent also Dryden himself with a riper mind +covering a larger field of thought, and showing abundantly the +strength and independence of his own critical judgment, while he +cites familiarly and frequently the critics, little remembered and +less cared for now, who then passed for the arbiters of taste. + +If English literature were really taught in schools, and the eldest +boys had received training that brought them in their last school- +year to a knowledge of the changes of intellectual fashion that set +their outward mark upon successive periods, there is no prose +writing of Dryden that could be used by a teacher more instructively +than these Discourses on Satire and on Epic Poetry. They illustrate +abundantly both Dryden and his time, and give continuous occasion +for discussion of first principles, whether in disagreement or +agreement with the text. Dryden was on his own ground as a critic +of satire; and the ideal of an epic that the times, and perhaps also +the different bent of his own genius, would not allow him to work +out, at least finds such expression as might be expected from a man +who had high aspirations, and whose place, in times unfavourable to +his highest aims, was still among the master-poets of the world. + +The Discourse on Satire was prefixed to a translation of the satires +of Juvenal and Persius, and is dated the 18th of August, 1692, when +the poet's age was sixty-one. In translating Juvenal, Dryden was +helped by his sons Charles and John. William Congreve translated +one satire; other translations were by Nahum Tate and George +Stepney. Time modern reader of the introductory discourse has first +to pass through the unmeasured compliments to the Earl of Dorset, +which represent a real esteem and gratitude in the extravagant terms +then proper to the art of dedication. We get to the free sea over a +slimy shore. We must remember that Charles the Second upon his +death was praised by Charles Montague, who knew his faults, as "the +best good man that ever filled a throne," and compared to God +Himself at the end of the first paragraph of Montague's poem. But +when we are clear of the conventional unmeasured flatteries, and +Dryden lingers among epic poets on his way to the satirists, there +is equal interest in the mistaken criticisms, in the aspirations +that are blended with them, and in the occasional touches of the +poet's personality in quiet references to his critics. The +comparisons between Horace and Juvenal in this discourse, and much +of the criticism on Virgil in the discourse on epic poetry, are the +utterances of a poet upon poets, and full of right suggestions from +an artist's mind. The second discourse was prefixed in 1697--three +years before Dryden's death--to his translation of the AEneid. + +H. M. + + + +A DISCOURSE ON THE ORIGINAL AND PROGRESS OF SATIRE: +ADDRESSED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE +CHARLES, EARL OF DORSET AND MIDDLESEX, +LORD CHAMBERLAIN OF HIS MAJESTY'S HOUSEHOLD, KNIGHT OF THE MOST +NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, ETC. + + + +My Lord, + +The wishes and desires of all good men, which have attended your +lordship from your first appearance in the world, are at length +accomplished, from your obtaining those honours and dignities which +you have so long deserved. There are no factions, though +irreconcilable to one another, that are not united in their +affection to you, and the respect they pay you. They are equally +pleased in your prosperity, and would be equally concerned in your +afflictions. Titus Vespasian was not more the delight of human +kind. The universal empire made him only more known and more +powerful, but could not make him more beloved. He had greater +ability of doing good, but your inclination to it is not less: and +though you could not extend your beneficence to so many persons, yet +you have lost as few days as that excellent emperor; and never had +his complaint to make when you went to bed, that the sun had shone +upon you in vain, when you had the opportunity of relieving some +unhappy man. This, my lord, has justly acquired you as many friends +as there are persons who have the honour to be known to you. Mere +acquaintance you have none; you have drawn them all into a nearer +line; and they who have conversed with you are for ever after +inviolably yours. This is a truth so generally acknowledged that it +needs no proof: it is of the nature of a first principle, which is +received as soon as it is proposed; and needs not the reformation +which Descartes used to his; for we doubt not, neither can we +properly say, we think we admire and love you above all other men: +there is a certainty in the proposition, and we know it. With the +same assurance I can say, you neither have enemies, nor can scarce +have any; for they who have never heard of you can neither love or +hate you; and they who have, can have no other notion of you than +that which they receive from the public, that you are the best of +men. After this, my testimony can be of no farther use, than to +declare it to be daylight at high noon: and all who have the +benefit of sight can look up as well and see the sun. + +It is true, I have one privilege which is almost particular to +myself, that I saw you in the east at your first arising above the +hemisphere: I was as soon sensible as any man of that light when it +was but just shooting out and beginning to travel upwards to the +meridian. I made my early addresses to your lordship in my "Essay +of Dramatic Poetry," and therein bespoke you to the world; wherein I +have the right of a first discoverer. When I was myself in the +rudiments of my poetry, without name or reputation in the world, +having rather the ambition of a writer than the skill; when I was +drawing the outlines of an art, without any living master to +instruct me in it--an art which had been better praised than studied +here in England; wherein Shakespeare, who created the stage among +us, had rather written happily than knowingly and justly; and +Jonson, who, by studying Horace, had been acquainted with the rules, +yet seemed to envy to posterity that knowledge, and, like an +inventor of some useful art, to make a monopoly of his learning-- +when thus, as I may say, before the use of the loadstone or +knowledge of the compass, I was sailing in a vast ocean without +other help than the pole-star of the ancients and the rules of the +French stage amongst the moderns (which are extremely different from +ours, by reason of their opposite taste), yet even then I had the +presumption to dedicate to your lordship--a very unfinished piece, I +must confess, and which only can be excused by the little experience +of the author and the modesty of the title--"An Essay." Yet I was +stronger in prophecy than I was in criticism: I was inspired to +foretell you to mankind as the restorer of poetry, the greatest +genius, the truest judge, and the best patron. + +Good sense and good nature are never separated, though the ignorant +world has thought otherwise. Good nature, by which I mean +beneficence and candour, is the product of right reason; which of +necessity will give allowance to the failings of others by +considering that there is nothing perfect in mankind; and by +distinguishing that which comes nearest to excellency, though not +absolutely free from faults, will certainly produce a candour in the +judge. It is incident to an elevated understanding like your +lordship's to find out the errors of other men; but it is your +prerogative to pardon them; to look with pleasure on those things +which are somewhat congenial and of a remote kindred to your own +conceptions; and to forgive the many failings of those who, with +their wretched art, cannot arrive to those heights that you possess +from a happy, abundant, and native genius which are as inborn to you +as they were to Shakespeare, and, for aught I know, to Homer; in +either of whom we find all arts and sciences, all moral and natural +philosophy, without knowing that they ever studied them. + +There is not an English writer this day living who is not perfectly +convinced that your lordship excels all others in all the several +parts of poetry which you have undertaken to adorn. The most vain +and the most ambitions of our age have not dared to assume so much +as the competitors of Themistocles: they have yielded the first +place without dispute; and have been arrogantly content to be +esteemed as second to your lordship, and even that also with a +longo, sed proximi intervallo. If there have been, or are, any who +go farther in their self-conceit, they must be very singular in +their opinion; they must be like the officer in a play who was +called captain, lieutenant, and company. The world will easily +conclude whether such unattended generals can ever be capable of +making a revolution in Parnassus. + +I will not attempt in this place to say anything particular of your +lyric poems, though they are the delight and wonder of the age, and +will be the envy of the next. The subject of this book confines me +to satire; and in that an author of your own quality, whose ashes I +will not disturb, has given you all the commendation which his self- +sufficiency could afford to any man--"The best good man, with the +worst-natured muse." In that character, methinks, I am reading +Jonson's verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, sparing, +and invidious panegyric: where good nature--the most godlike +commendation of a man--is only attributed to your person, and denied +to your writings; for they are everywhere so full of candour, that, +like Horace, you only expose the follies of men without arraigning +their vices; and in this excel him, that you add that pointedness of +thought which is visibly wanting in our great Roman. There is more +of salt in all your verses than I have seen in any of the moderns, +or even of the ancients: but you have been sparing of the gall; by +which means you have pleased all readers and offended none. Donne +alone, of all our countrymen, had your talent, but was not happy +enough to arrive at your versification; and were he translated into +numbers and English, he would yet be wanting in the dignity of +expression. That which is the prime virtue and chief ornament of +Virgil, which distinguishes him from the rest of writers, is so +conspicuous in your verses that it casts a shadow on all your +contemporaries; we cannot be seen, or but obscurely, while you are +present. You equal Donne in the variety, multiplicity, and choice +of thoughts; you excel him in the manner and the words. I read you +both with the same admiration, but not with the same delight. He +affects the metaphysics, not only in his satires, but in his amorous +verses, where Nature only should reign; and perplexes the minds of +the fair sex with nice speculations of philosophy, when he should +engage their hearts and entertain them with the softnesses of love. +In this (if I may be pardoned for so bold a truth) Mr. Cowley has +copied him to a fault: so great a one, in my opinion, that it +throws his "Mistress" infinitely below his "Pindarics" and his later +compositions, which are undoubtedly the best of his poems and the +most correct. For my own part I must avow it freely to the world +that I never attempted anything in satire wherein I have not studied +your writings as the most perfect model. I have continually laid +them before me; and the greatest commendation which my own +partiality can give to my productions is that they are copies, and +no farther to be allowed than as they have something more or less of +the original. Some few touches of your lordship, some secret graces +which I have endeavoured to express after your manner, have made +whole poems of mine to pass with approbation: but take your verses +all together, and they are inimitable. If, therefore, I have not +written better, it is because you have not written more. You have +not set me sufficient copy to transcribe; and I cannot add one +letter of my own invention of which I have not the example there. + +It is a general complaint against your lordship, and I must have +leave to upbraid you with it, that, because you need not write, you +will not. Mankind that wishes you so well in all things that relate +to your prosperity, have their intervals of wishing for themselves, +and are within a little of grudging you the fulness of your fortune: +they would be more malicious if you used it not so well and with so +much generosity. + +Fame is in itself a real good, if we may believe Cicero, who was +perhaps too fond of it; but even fame, as Virgil tells us, acquires +strength by going forward. Let Epicurus give indolency as an +attribute to his gods, and place in it the happiness of the blest: +the Divinity which we worship has given us not only a precept +against it, but His own example to the contrary. The world, my +lord, would be content to allow you a seventh day for rest; or, if +you thought that hard upon you, we would not refuse you half your +time: if you came out, like some great monarch, to take a town but +once a year, as it were for your diversion, though you had no need +to extend your territories. In short, if you were a bad, or, which +is worse, an indifferent poet, we would thank you for our own quiet, +and not expose you to the want of yours. But when you are so great, +and so successful, and when we have that necessity of your writing +that we cannot subsist entirely without it, any more (I may almost +say) than the world without the daily course of ordinary Providence, +methinks this argument might prevail with you, my lord, to forego a +little of your repose for the public benefit. It is not that you +are under any force of working daily miracles to prove your being, +but now and then somewhat of extraordinary--that is, anything of +your production--is requisite to refresh your character. + +This, I think, my lord, is a sufficient reproach to you, and should +I carry it as far as mankind would authorise me, would be little +less than satire. And indeed a provocation is almost necessary, in +behalf of the world, that you might be induced sometimes to write; +and in relation to a multitude of scribblers, who daily pester the +world with their insufferable stuff, that they might be discouraged +from writing any more. I complain not of their lampoons and libels, +though I have been the public mark for many years. I am vindictive +enough to have repelled force by force if I could imagine that any +of them had ever reached me: but they either shot at rovers, and +therefore missed; or their powder was so weak that I might safely +stand them at the nearest distance. I answered not the "Rehearsal" +because I knew the author sat to himself when he drew the picture, +and was the very Bayes of his own farce; because also I knew that my +betters were more concerned than I was in that satire; and, lastly, +because Mr. Smith and Mr. Johnson, the main pillars of it, were two +such languishing gentlemen in their conversation that I could liken +them to nothing but to their own relations, those noble characters +of men of wit and pleasure about the town. The like considerations +have hindered me from dealing with the lamentable companions of +their prose and doggerel. I am so far from defending my poetry +against them that I will not so much as expose theirs. And for my +morals, if they are not proof against their attacks, let me be +thought by posterity what those authors would be thought if any +memory of them or of their writings could endure so long as to +another age. But these dull makers of lampoons, as harmless as they +have been to me, are yet of dangerous example to the public. Some +witty men may perhaps succeed to their designs, and, mixing sense +with malice, blast the reputation of the most innocent amongst men, +and the most virtuous amongst women. + +Heaven be praised, our common libellers are as free from the +imputation of wit as of morality, and therefore whatever mischief +they have designed they have performed but little of it. Yet these +ill writers, in all justice, ought themselves to be exposed, as +Persius has given us a fair example in his first Satire, which is +levelled particularly at them; and none is so fit to correct their +faults as he who is not only clear from any in his own writings, but +is also so just that he will never defame the good, and is armed +with the power of verse to punish and make examples of the bad. But +of this I shall have occasion to speak further when I come to give +the definition and character of true satires. + +In the meantime, as a counsellor bred up in the knowledge of the +municipal and statute laws may honestly inform a just prince how far +his prerogative extends, so I may be allowed to tell your lordship, +who by an undisputed title are the king of poets, what an extent of +power you have, and how lawfully you may exercise it over the +petulant scribblers of this age. As Lord Chamberlain, I know, you +are absolute by your office in all that belongs to the decency and +good manners of the stage. You can banish from thence scurrility +and profaneness, and restrain the licentious insolence of poets and +their actors in all things that shock the public quiet, or the +reputation of private persons, under the notion of humour. But I +mean not the authority which is annexed to your office, I speak of +that only which is inborn and inherent to your person; what is +produced in you by an excellent wit, a masterly and commanding +genius over all writers: whereby you are empowered, when you +please, to give the final decision of wit, to put your stamp on all +that ought to pass for current and set a brand of reprobation on +clipped poetry and false coin. A shilling dipped in the bath may go +for gold amongst the ignorant, but the sceptres on the guineas show +the difference. That your lordship is formed by nature for this +supremacy I could easily prove (were it not already granted by the +world) from the distinguishing character of your writing, which is +so visible to me that I never could be imposed on to receive for +yours what was written by any others, or to mistake your genuine +poetry for their spurious productions. I can farther add with +truth, though not without some vanity in saying it, that in the same +paper written by divers hands, whereof your lordship's was only +part, I could separate your gold from their copper; and though I +could not give back to every author his own brass (for there is not +the same rule for distinguishing betwixt bad and bad as betwixt ill +and excellently good), yet I never failed of knowing what was yours +and what was not, and was absolutely certain that this or the other +part was positively yours, and could not possibly be written by any +other. + +True it is that some bad poems, though not all, carry their owners' +marks about them. There is some peculiar awkwardness, false +grammar, imperfect sense, or, at the least, obscurity; some brand or +other on this buttock or that ear that it is notorious who are the +owners of the cattle, though they should not sign it with their +names. But your lordship, on the contrary, is distinguished not +only by the excellency of your thoughts, but by your style and +manner of expressing them. A painter judging of some admirable +piece may affirm with certainty that it was of Holbein or Vandyck; +but vulgar designs and common draughts are easily mistaken and +misapplied. Thus, by my long study of your lordship, I am arrived +at the knowledge of your particular manner. In the good poems of +other men, like those artists, I can only say, "This is like the +draught of such a one, or like the colouring of another;" in short, +I can only be sure that it is the hand of a good master: but in +your performances it is scarcely possible for me to be deceived. If +you write in your strength, you stand revealed at the first view, +and should you write under it, you cannot avoid some peculiar graces +which only cost me a second consideration to discover you: for I +may say it with all the severity of truth, that every line of yours +is precious. Your lordship's only fault is that you have not +written more, unless I could add another, and that yet greater, but +I fear for the public the accusation would not be true--that you +have written, and out of a vicious modesty will not publish. + +Virgil has confined his works within the compass of eighteen +thousand lines, and has not treated many subjects, yet he ever had, +and ever will have, the reputation of the best poet. Martial says +of him that he could have excelled Varius in tragedy and Horace in +lyric poetry, but out of deference to his friends he attempted +neither. + +The same prevalence of genius is in your lordship, but the world +cannot pardon your concealing it on the same consideration, because +we have neither a living Varius nor a Horace, in whose excellences +both of poems, odes, and satires, you had equalled them, if our +language had not yielded to the Roman majesty, and length of time +had not added a reverence to the works of Horace. For good sense is +the same in all or most ages, and course of time rather improves +nature than impairs her. What has been, may be again; another Homer +and another Virgil may possible arise from those very causes which +produced the first, though it would be impudence to affirm that any +such have yet appeared. + +It is manifest that some particular ages have been more happy than +others in the production of great men in all sorts of arts and +sciences, as that of Euripides, Sophocles, Aristophanes, and the +rest, for stage-poetry amongst the Greeks; that of Augustus for +heroic, lyric, dramatic, elegiac, and indeed all sorts of poetry in +the persons of Virgil, Horace, Varius, Ovid, and many others, +especially if we take into that century the latter end of the +commonwealth, wherein we find Varro, Lucretius, and Catullus; and at +the same time lived Cicero and Sallust and Caesar. A famous age in +modern times for learning in every kind was that of Lorenzo de +Medici and his son Leo the Tenth, wherein painting was revived, and +poetry flourished, and the Greek language was restored. + +Examples in all these are obvious, but what I would infer is this-- +that in such an age it is possible some great genius may arise to +equal any of the ancients, abating only for the language; for great +contemporaries whet and cultivate each other, and mutual borrowing +and commerce makes the common riches of learning, as it does of the +civil government. + +But suppose that Homer and Virgil were the only of their species, +and that nature was so much worn out in producing them that she is +never able to hear the like again, yet the example only holds in +heroic poetry; in tragedy and satire I offer myself to maintain, +against some of our modern critics, that this age and the last, +particularly in England, have excelled the ancients in both those +kinds, and I would instance in Shakespeare of the former, of your +lordship in the latter sort. + +Thus I might safely confine myself to my native country. But if I +would only cross the seas, I might find in France a living Horace +and a Juvenal in the person of the admirable Boileau, whose numbers +are excellent, whose expressions are noble, whose thoughts are just, +whose language is pure, whose satire is pointed and whose sense is +close. What he borrows from the ancients, he repays with usury of +his own in coin as good and almost as universally valuable: for, +setting prejudice and partiality apart, though he is our enemy, the +stamp of a Louis, the patron of all arts, is not much inferior to +the medal of an Augustus Caesar. Let this be said without entering +into the interests of factions and parties, and relating only to the +bounty of that king to men of learning and merit--a praise so just +that even we, who are his enemies, cannot refuse it to him. + +Now if it may be permitted me to go back again to the consideration +of epic poetry, I have confessed that no man hitherto has reached or +so much as approached to the excellences of Homer or of Virgil; I +must farther add that Statius, the best versificator next to Virgil, +knew not how to design after him, though he had the model in his +eye; that Lucan is wanting both in design and subject, and is +besides too full of heat and affectation; that amongst the moderns, +Ariosto neither designed justly nor observed any unity of action, or +compass of time, or moderation in the vastness of his draught: his +style is luxurious without majesty or decency, and his adventures +without the compass of nature and possibility. Tasso, whose design +was regular, and who observed the roles of unity in time and place +more closely than Virgil, yet was not so happy in his action: he +confesses himself to have been too lyrical--that is, to have written +beneath the dignity of heroic verse--in his episodes of Sophronia, +Erminia, and Armida. His story is not so pleasing as Ariosto's; he +is too flatulent sometimes, and sometimes too dry; many times +unequal, and almost always forced; and, besides, is full of +conceits, points of epigram, and witticisms; all which are not only +below the dignity of heroic verse, but contrary to its nature: +Virgil and Homer have not one of them. And those who are guilty of +so boyish an ambition in so grave a subject are so far from being +considered as heroic poets that they ought to be turned down from +Homer to the "Anthologia," from Virgil to Martial and Owen's +Epigrams, and from Spenser to Flecknoe--that is, from the top to the +bottom of all poetry. But to return to Tasso: he borrows from the +invention of Boiardo, and in his alteration of his poem, which is +infinitely for the worse, imitates Homer so very servilely that (for +example) he gives the King of Jerusalem fifty sons, only because +Homer had bestowed the like number on King Priam; he kills the +youngest in the same manner; and has provided his hero with a +Patroclus, under another name, only to bring him back to the wars +when his friend was killed. The French have performed nothing in +this kind which is not far below those two Italians, and subject to +a thousand more reflections, without examining their "St. Louis," +their "Pucelle," or their "Alaric." The English have only to boast +of Spenser and Milton, who neither of them wanted either genius or +learning to have been perfect poets; and yet both of them are liable +to many censures. For there is no uniformity in the design of +Spenser; he aims at the accomplishment of no one action; he raises +up a hero for every one of his adventures, and endows each of them +with some particular moral virtue, which renders them all equal, +without subordination or preference: every one is most valiant in +his own legend: only we must do him that justice to observe that +magnanimity, which is the character of Prince Arthur, shines +throughout the whole poem, and succours the rest when they are in +distress. The original of every knight was then living in the court +of Queen Elizabeth, and he attributed to each of them that virtue +which he thought was most conspicuous in them--an ingenious piece of +flattery, though it turned not much to his account. Had he lived to +finish his poem in the six remaining legends, it had certainly been +more of a piece; but could not have been perfect, because the model +was not true. But Prince Arthur, or his chief patron Sir Philip +Sidney, whom he intended to make happy by the marriage of his +Gloriana, dying before him, deprived the poet both of means and +spirit to accomplish his design. For the rest, his obsolete +language and the ill choice of his stanza are faults but of the +second magnitude; for, notwithstanding the first, he is still +intelligible--at least, after a little practice; and for the last, +he is the more to be admired that, labouring under such a +difficulty, his verses are so numerous, so various and so +harmonious, that only Virgil, whom he professedly imitated, has +surpassed him among the Romans, and only Mr. Waller among the +English. + +As for Mr. Milton, whom we all admire with so much justice, his +subject is not that of an heroic poem, properly so called. His +design is the losing of our happiness; his event is not prosperous, +like that of all other epic works; his heavenly machines are many, +and his human persons are but two. But I will not take Mr. Rymer's +work out of his hands: he has promised the world a critique on that +author wherein, though he will not allow his poem for heroic, I hope +he will grant us that his thoughts are elevated, his words sounding, +and that no man has so happily copied the manner of Homer, or so +copiously translated his Grecisms and the Latin elegances of Virgil. +It is true, he runs into a flat of thought, sometimes for a hundred +lines together, but it is when he has got into a track of Scripture. +His antiquated words were his choice, not his necessity; for therein +he imitated Spenser, as Spencer did Chaucer. And though, perhaps, +the love of their masters may have transported both too far in the +frequent use of them, yet in my opinion obsolete words may then be +laudably revived when either they are more sounding or more +significant than those in practice, and when their obscurity is +taken away by joining other words to them which clear the sense-- +according to the rule of Horace for the admission of new words. But +in both cases a moderation is to be observed in the use of them; for +unnecessary coinage, as well as unnecessary revival, runs into +affectation--a fault to be avoided on either hand. Neither will I +justify Milton for his blank verse, though I may excuse him by the +example of Hannibal Caro and other Italians who have used it; for, +whatever causes he alleges for the abolishing of rhyme (which I have +not now the leisure to examine), his own particular reason is +plainly this--that rhyme was not his talent; he had neither the ease +of doing it, nor the graces of it: which is manifest in his +"Juvenilia" or verses written in his youth, where his rhyme is +always constrained and forced, and comes hardly from him, at an age +when the soul is most pliant, and the passion of love makes almost +every man a rhymer, though not a poet. + +By this time, my lord, I doubt not but that you wonder why I have +run off from my bias so long together, and made so tedious a +digression from satire to heroic poetry; but if you will not excuse +it by the tattling quality of age (which, as Sir William Davenant +says, is always narrative), yet I hope the usefulness of what I have +to say on this subject will qualify the remoteness of it; and this +is the last time I will commit the crime of prefaces, or trouble the +world with my notions of anything that relates to verse. I have +then, as you see, observed the failings of many great wits amongst +the moderns who have attempted to write an epic poem. Besides +these, or the like animadversions of them by other men, there is yet +a farther reason given why they cannot possibly succeed so well as +the ancients, even though we could allow them not to be inferior +either in genius or learning, or the tongue in which they write, or +all those other wonderful qualifications which are necessary to the +forming of a true accomplished heroic poet. The fault is laid on +our religion; they say that Christianity is not capable of those +embellishments which are afforded in the belief of those ancient +heathens. + +And it is true that in the severe notions of our faith the fortitude +of a Christian consists in patience, and suffering for the love of +God whatever hardships can befall in the world--not in any great +attempt, or in performance of those enterprises which the poets call +heroic, and which are commonly the effects of interest, ostentation, +pride, and worldly honour; that humility and resignation are our +prime virtues; and that these include no action but that of the +soul, whereas, on the contrary, an heroic poem requires to its +necessary design, and as its last perfection, some great action of +war, the accomplishment of some extraordinary undertaking, which +requires the strength and vigour of the body, the duty of a soldier, +the capacity and prudence of a general, and, in short, as much or +more of the active virtue than the suffering. But to this the +answer is very obvious. God has placed us in our several stations; +the virtues of a private Christian are patience, obedience, +submission, and the like; but those of a magistrate or a general or +a king are prudence, counsel, active fortitude, coercive power, +awful command, and the exercise of magnanimity as well as justice. +So that this objection hinders not but that an epic poem, or the +heroic action of some great commander, enterprised for the common +good and honour of the Christian cause, and executed happily, may be +as well written now as it was of old by the heathens, provided the +poet be endued with the same talents; and the language, though not +of equal dignity, yet as near approaching to it as our modern +barbarism will allow--which is all that can be expected from our own +or any other now extant, though more refined; and therefore we are +to rest contented with that only inferiority, which is not possibly +to be remedied. + +I wish I could as easily remove that other difficulty which yet +remains. It is objected by a great French critic as well as an +admirable poet, yet living, and whom I have mentioned with that +honour which his merit exacts from me (I mean, Boileau), that the +machines of our Christian religion in heroic poetry are much more +feeble to support that weight than those of heathenism. Their +doctrine, grounded as it was on ridiculous fables, was yet the +belief of the two victorious monarchies, the Grecian and Roman. +Their gods did not only interest themselves in the event of wars +(which is the effect of a superior Providence), but also espoused +the several parties in a visible corporeal descent, managed their +intrigues and fought their battles, sometimes in opposition to each +other; though Virgil (more discreet than Homer in that last +particular) has contented himself with the partiality of his +deities, their favours, their counsels or commands, to those whose +cause they had espoused, without bringing them to the outrageousness +of blows. Now our religion, says he, is deprived of the greatest +part of those machines--at least, the most shining in epic poetry. +Though St. Michael in Ariosto seeks out Discord to send her amongst +the Pagans, and finds her in a convent of friars, where peace should +reign (which indeed is fine satire); and Satan in Tasso excites +Soliman to an attempt by night on the Christian camp, and brings a +host of devils to his assistance; yet the Archangel in the former +example, when Discord was restive and would not be drawn from her +beloved monastery with fair words, has the whip-hand of her, drags +her out with many stripes, sets her on God's name about her +business, and makes her know the difference of strength betwixt a +nuncio of heaven and a minister of hell. The same angel in the +latter instance from Tasso (as if God had never another messenger +belonging to the court, but was confined, like Jupiter to Mercury, +and Juno to Iris), when he sees his time--that is, when half of the +Christians are already killed, and all the rest are in a fair way to +be routed--stickles betwixt the remainders of God's host and the +race of fiends, pulls the devils backward by the tails, and drives +them from their quarry; or otherwise the whole business had +miscarried, and Jerusalem remained untaken. This, says Boileau, is +a very unequal match for the poor devils, who are sure to come by +the worst of it in the combat; for nothing is more easy than for an +Almighty Power to bring His old rebels to reason when He pleases. +Consequently what pleasure, what entertainment, can be raised from +so pitiful a machine, where we see the success of the battle from +the very beginning of it? unless that as we are Christians, we are +glad that we have gotten God on our side to maul our enemies when we +cannot do the work ourselves. For if the poet had given the +faithful more courage, which had cost him nothing, or at least have +made them exceed the Turks in number, he might have gained the +victory for us Christians without interesting Heaven in the quarrel, +and that with as much ease and as little credit to the conqueror as +when a party of a hundred soldiers defeats another which consists +only of fifty. + +This, my lord, I confess is such an argument against our modern +poetry as cannot be answered by those mediums which have been used. +We cannot hitherto boast that our religion has furnished us with any +such machines as have made the strength and beauty of the ancient +buildings. + +But what if I venture to advance an invention of my own to supply +the manifest defect of our new writers? I am sufficiently sensible +of my weakness, and it is not very probable that I should succeed in +such a project, whereof I have not had the least hint from any of my +predecessors the poets, or any of their seconds or coadjutors the +critics. Yet we see the art of war is improved in sieges, and new +instruments of death are invented daily. Something new in +philosophy and the mechanics is discovered almost every year, and +the science of former ages is improved by the succeeding. I will +not detain you with a long preamble to that which better judges +will, perhaps, conclude to be little worth. + +It is this, in short--that Christian poets have not hitherto been +acquainted with their own strength. If they had searched the Old +Testament as they ought, they might there have found the machines +which are proper for their work, and those more certain in their +effect than it may be the New Testament is in the rules sufficient +for salvation. The perusing of one chapter in the prophecy of +Daniel, and accommodating what there they find with the principles +of Platonic philosophy as it is now Christianised, would have made +the ministry of angels as strong an engine for the working up heroic +poetry in our religion as that of the ancients has been to raise +theirs by all the fables of their gods, which were only received for +truths by the most ignorant and weakest of the people. + +It is a doctrine almost universally received by Christians, as well +Protestants as Catholics, that there are guardian angels appointed +by God Almighty as His vicegerents for the protection and government +of cities, provinces, kingdoms, and monarchies; and those as well of +heathens as of true believers. All this is so plainly proved from +those texts of Daniel that it admits of no farther controversy. The +prince of the Persians, and that other of the Grecians, are granted +to be the guardians and protecting ministers of those empires. It +cannot be denied that they were opposite and resisted one another. +St. Michael is mentioned by his name as the patron of the Jews, and +is now taken by the Christians as the protector-general of our +religion. These tutelar genii, who presided over the several people +and regions committed to their charge, were watchful over them for +good, as far as their commissions could possibly extend. The +general purpose and design of all was certainly the service of their +great Creator. But it is an undoubted truth that, for ends best +known to the Almighty Majesty of Heaven, His providential designs +for the benefit of His creatures, for the debasing and punishing of +some nations, and the exaltation and temporal reward of others, were +not wholly known to these His ministers; else why those factious +quarrels, controversies, and battles amongst themselves, when they +were all united in the same design, the service and honour of their +common master? But being instructed only in the general, and +zealous of the main design, and as finite beings not admitted into +the secrets of government, the last resorts of Providence, or +capable of discovering the final purposes of God (who can work good +out of evil as He pleases, and irresistibly sways all manner of +events on earth, directing them finally for the best to His creation +in general, and to the ultimate end of His own glory in particular), +they must of necessity be sometimes ignorant of the means conducing +to those ends, in which alone they can jar and oppose each other-- +one angel, as we may suppose (the Prince of Persia, as he is +called), judging that it would be more for God's honour and the +benefit of His people that the Median and Persian monarchy, which +delivered them from the Babylonish captivity, should still be +uppermost; and the patron of the Grecians, to whom the will of God +might be more particularly revealed, contending on the other side +for the rise of Alexander and his successors, who were appointed to +punish the backsliding Jews, and thereby to put them in mind of +their offences, that they might repent and become more virtuous and +more observant of the law revealed. But how far these controversies +and appearing enmities of those glorious creatures may be carried; +how these oppositions may be best managed, and by what means +conducted, is not my business to show or determine: these things +must be left to the invention and judgment of the poet, if any of so +happy a genius be now living, or any future age can produce a man +who, being conversant in the philosophy of Plato as it is now +accommodated to Christian use (for, as Virgil gives us to understand +by his example, that is the only proper, of all others, for an epic +poem), who to his natural endowments of a large invention, a ripe +judgment, and a strong memory, has joined the knowledge of the +liberal arts and sciences (and particularly moral philosophy, the +mathematics, geography, and history), and with all these +qualifications is born a poet, knows, and can practise the variety +of numbers, and is master of the language in which he writes--if +such a man, I say, be now arisen, or shall arise, I am vain enough +to think that I have proposed a model to him by which he may build a +nobler, a more beautiful, and more perfect poem than any yet extant +since the ancients. + +There is another part of these machines yet wanting; but by what I +have said, it would have been easily supplied by a judicious writer. +He could not have failed to add the opposition of ill spirits to the +good; they have also their design, ever opposite to that of Heaven; +and this alone has hitherto been the practice of the moderns: but +this imperfect system, if I may call it such, which I have given, +will infinitely advance and carry farther that hypothesis of the +evil spirits contending with the good. For being so much weaker +since their fall than those blessed beings, they are yet supposed to +have a permitted power from God of acting ill, as from their own +depraved nature they have always the will of designing it--a great +testimony of which we find in Holy Writ, when God Almighty suffered +Satan to appear in the holy synod of the angels (a thing not +hitherto drawn into example by any of the poets), and also gave him +power over all things belonging to his servant Job, excepting only +life. + +Now what these wicked spirits cannot compass by the vast +disproportion of their forces to those of the superior beings, they +may by their fraud and cunning carry farther in a seeming league, +confederacy, or subserviency to the designs of some good angel, as +far as consists with his purity to suffer such an aid, the end of +which may possibly be disguised and concealed from his finite +knowledge. This is indeed to suppose a great error in such a being; +yet since a devil can appear like an angel of light, since craft and +malice may sometimes blind for a while a more perfect understanding; +and lastly, since Milton has given us an example of the like nature, +when Satan, appearing like a cherub to Uriel, the intelligence of +the sun, circumvented him even in his own province, and passed only +for a curious traveller through those new-created regions, that he +might observe therein the workmanship of God and praise Him in His +works--I know not why, upon the same supposition, or some other, a +fiend may not deceive a creature of more excellency than himself, +but yet a creature; at least, by the connivance or tacit permission +of the Omniscient Being. + +Thus, my lord, I have, as briefly as I could, given your lordship, +and by you the world, a rude draught of what I have been long +labouring in my imagination, and what I had intended to have put in +practice (though far unable for the attempt of such a poem), and to +have left the stage, to which my genius never much inclined me, for +a work which would have taken up my life in the performance of it. +This, too, I had intended chiefly for the honour of my native +country, to which a poet is particularly obliged. Of two subjects, +both relating to it, I was doubtful--whether I should choose that of +King Arthur conquering the Saxons (which, being farther distant in +time, gives the greater scope to my invention), or that of Edward +the Black Prince in subduing Spain and restoring it to the lawful +prince, though a great tyrant, Don Pedro the Cruel--which for the +compass of time, including only the expedition of one year; for the +greatness of the action, and its answerable event; for the +magnanimity of the English hero, opposed to the ingratitude of the +person whom he restored; and for the many beautiful episodes which I +had interwoven with the principal design, together with the +characters of the chiefest English persons (wherein, after Virgil +and Spenser, I would have taken occasion to represent my living +friends and patrons of the noblest families, and also shadowed the +events of future ages in the succession of our imperial line)--with +these helps, and those of the machines which I have mentioned, I +might perhaps have done as well as some of my predecessors, or at +least chalked out a way for others to amend my errors in a like +design; but being encouraged only with fair words by King Charles +the Second, my little salary ill paid, and no prospect of a future +subsistence, I was then discouraged in the beginning of my attempt; +and now age has overtaken me, and want (a more insufferable evil) +through the change of the times has wholly disenabled me; though I +must ever acknowledge, to the honour of your lordship, and the +eternal memory of your charity, that since this Revolution, wherein +I have patiently suffered the ruin of my small fortune, and the loss +of that poor subsistence which I had from two kings, whom I had +served more faithfully than profitably to myself--then your lordship +was pleased, out of no other motive but your own nobleness, without +any desert of mine, or the least solicitation from me, to make me a +most bountiful present, which at that time, when I was most in want +of it, came most seasonably and unexpectedly to my relief. That +favour, my lord, is of itself sufficient to bind any grateful man to +a perpetual acknowledgment, and to all the future service which one +of my mean condition can be ever able to perform. May the Almighty +God return it for me, both in blessing you here and rewarding you +hereafter! I must not presume to defend the cause for which I now +suffer, because your lordship is engaged against it; but the more +you are so, the greater is my obligation to you for your laying +aside all the considerations of factions and parties to do an action +of pure disinterested charity. This is one amongst many of your +shining qualities which distinguish you from others of your rank. +But let me add a farther truth--that without these ties of +gratitude, and abstracting from them all, I have a most particular +inclination to honour you, and, if it were not too bold an +expression, to say I love you. It is no shame to be a poet, though +it is to be a bad one. Augustus Caesar of old, and Cardinal +Richelieu of late, would willingly have been such; and David and +Solomon were such. You who, without flattery, are the best of the +present age in England, and would have been so had you been born in +any other country, will receive more honour in future ages by that +one excellency than by all those honours to which your birth has +entitled you, or your merits have acquired you. + + +"Ne forte pudori +Sit tibi Musa lyrae solers, et cantor Apollo." + + +I have formerly said in this epistle that I could distinguish your +writings from those of any others; it is now time to clear myself +from any imputation of self-conceit on that subject. I assume not +to myself any particular lights in this discovery; they are such +only as are obvious to every man of sense and judgment who loves +poetry and understands it. Your thoughts are always so remote from +the common way of thinking that they are, as I may say, of another +species than the conceptions of other poets; yet you go not out of +nature for any of them. Gold is never bred upon the surface of the +ground, but lies so hidden and so deep that the mines of it are +seldom found; but the force of waters casts it out from the bowels +of mountains, and exposes it amongst the sands of rivers, giving us +of her bounty what we could not hope for by our search. This +success attends your lordship's thoughts, which would look like +chance if it were not perpetual and always of the same tenor. If I +grant that there is care in it, it is such a care as would be +ineffectual and fruitless in other men; it is the curiosa felicitas +which Petronius ascribes to Horace in his odes. We have not +wherewithal to imagine so strongly, so justly, and so pleasantly: +in short, if we have the same knowledge, we cannot draw out of it +the same quintessence; we cannot give it such a turn, such a +propriety, and such a beauty. Something is deficient in the manner +or the words, but more in the nobleness of our conception. Yet when +you have finished all, and it appears in its full lustre; when the +diamond is not only found, but the roughness smoothed; when it is +cut into a form and set in gold, then we cannot but acknowledge that +it is the perfect work of art and nature; and every one will be so +vain to think he himself could have performed the like until he +attempts it. It is just the description that Horace makes of such a +finished piece; it appears so easy, + + +"Ut sibi quivis +Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret, +Ausus idem." + + +And besides all this, it is your lordship's particular talent to lay +your thoughts so chose together that, were they closer, they would +be crowded, and even a due connection would be wanting. We are not +kept in expectation of two good lines which are to come after a long +parenthesis of twenty bad; which is the April poetry of other +writers, a mixture of rain and sunshine by fits: you are always +bright, even almost to a fault, by reason of the excess. There is +continual abundance, a magazine of thought, and yet a perpetual +variety of entertainment; which creates such an appetite in your +reader that he is not cloyed with anything, but satisfied with all. +It is that which the Romans call caena dubia; where there is such +plenty, yet withal so much diversity, and so good order, that the +choice is difficult betwixt one excellency and another; and yet the +conclusion, by a due climax, is evermore the best--that is, as a +conclusion ought to be, ever the most proper for its place. See, my +lord, whether I have not studied your lordship with some +application: and since you are so modest that you will not be judge +and party, I appeal to the whole world if I have not drawn your +picture to a great degree of likeness, though it is but in +miniature, and that some of the best features are yet wanting. Yet +what I have done is enough to distinguish you from any other, which +is the proposition that I took upon me to demonstrate. + +And now, my lord, to apply what I have said to my present business: +the satires of Juvenal and Persius, appearing in this new English +dress, cannot so properly be inscribed to any man as to your +lordship, who are the first of the age in that way of writing. Your +lordship, amongst many other favours, has given me your permission +for this address; and you have particularly encouraged me by your +perusal and approbation of the sixth and tenth satires of Juvenal as +I have translated them. My fellow-labourers have likewise +commissioned me to perform in their behalf this office of a +dedication to you, and will acknowledge, with all possible respect +and gratitude, your acceptance of their work. Some of them have the +honour to be known to your lordship already; and they who have not +yet that happiness, desire it now. Be pleased to receive our common +endeavours with your wonted candour, without entitling you to the +protection of our common failings in so difficult an undertaking. +And allow me your patience, if it be not already tired with this +long epistle, to give you from the best authors the origin, the +antiquity, the growth, the change, and the completement of satire +among the Romans; to describe, if not define, the nature of that +poem, with its several qualifications and virtues, together with the +several sorts of it; to compare the excellencies of Horace, Persius, +and Juvenal, and show the particular manners of their satires; and, +lastly, to give an account of this new way of version which is +attempted in our performance: all which, according to the weakness +of my ability, and the best lights which I can get from others, +shall be the subject of my following discourse. + +The most perfect work of poetry, says our master Aristotle, is +tragedy. His reason is because it is the most united; being more +severely confined within the rules of action, time, and place. The +action is entire of a piece, and one without episodes; the time +limited to a natural day; and the place circumscribed at least +within the compass of one town or city. Being exactly proportioned +thus, and uniform in all its parts, the mind is more capable of +comprehending the whole beauty of it without distraction. + +But after all these advantages an heroic poem is certainly the +greatest work of human nature. The beauties and perfections of the +other are but mechanical; those of the epic are more noble. Though +Homer has limited his place to Troy and the fields about it; his +actions to forty-eight natural days, whereof twelve are holidays, or +cessation from business during the funeral of Patroclus. To +proceed: the action of the epic is greater; the extension of time +enlarges the pleasure of the reader, and the episodes give it more +ornament and more variety. The instruction is equal; but the first +is only instructive, the latter forms a hero and a prince. + +If it signifies anything which of them is of the more ancient +family, the best and most absolute heroic poem was written by Homer +long before tragedy was invented. But if we consider the natural +endowments and acquired parts which are necessary to make an +accomplished writer in either kind, tragedy requires a less and more +confined knowledge; moderate learning and observation of the rules +is sufficient if a genius be not wanting. But in an epic poet, one +who is worthy of that name, besides an universal genius is required +universal learning, together with all those qualities and +acquisitions which I have named above, and as many more as I have +through haste or negligence omitted. And, after all, he must have +exactly studied Homer and Virgil as his patterns, Aristotle and +Horace as his guides, and Vida and Bossu as their commentators, with +many others (both Italian and French critics) which I want leisure +here to recommend. + +In a word, what I have to say in relation to this subject, which +does not particularly concern satire, is that the greatness of an +heroic poem beyond that of a tragedy may easily be discovered by +observing how few have attempted that work, in comparison to those +who have written dramas; and of those few, how small a number have +succeeded. But leaving the critics on either side to contend about +the preference due to this or that sort of poetry, I will hasten to +my present business, which is the antiquity and origin of satire, +according to those informations which I have received from the +learned Casaubon, Heinsius, Rigaltius, Dacier, and the Dauphin's +Juvenal, to which I shall add some observations of my own. + +There has been a long dispute among the modern critics whether the +Romans derived their satire from the Grecians or first invented it +themselves. Julius Scaliger and Heinsius are of the first opinion; +Casaubon, Rigaltius, Dacier, and the publisher of Dauphin's Juvenal +maintain the latter. If we take satire in the general signification +of the word, as it is used in all modern languages, for an +invective, it is certain that it is almost as old as verse; and +though hymns, which are praises of God, may be allowed to have been +before it, yet the defamation of others was not long after it. +After God had cursed Adam and Eve in Paradise, the husband and wife +excused themselves by laying the blame on one another, and gave a +beginning to those conjugal dialogues in prose which the poets have +perfected in verse. The third chapter of Job is one of the first +instances of this poem in Holy Scripture, unless we will take it +higher, from the latter end of the second, where his wife advises +him to curse his Maker. + +This original, I confess, is not much to the honour of satire; but +here it was nature, and that depraved: when it became an art, it +bore better fruit. Only we have learnt thus much already--that +scoffs and revilings are of the growth of all nations; and +consequently that neither the Greek poets borrowed from other people +their art of railing, neither needed the Romans to take it from +them. But considering satire as a species of poetry, here the war +begins amongst the critics. Scaliger, the father, will have it +descend from Greece to Rome; and derives the word "satire" from +Satyrus, that mixed kind of animal (or, as the ancients thought him, +rural god) made up betwixt a man and a goat, with a human head, +hooked nose, pouting lips, a bunch or struma under the chin, pricked +ears, and upright horns; the body shagged with hair, especially from +the waist, and ending in a goat, with the legs and feet of that +creature. But Casaubon and his followers, with reason, condemn this +derivation, and prove that from Satyrus the word satira, as it +signifies a poem, cannot possibly descend. For satira is not +properly a substantive, but an adjective; to which the word lanx (in +English a "charger" or "large platter") is understood: so that the +Greek poem made according to the manners of a Satyr, and expressing +his qualities, must properly be called satirical, and not satire. +And thus far it is allowed that the Grecians had such poems, but +that they were wholly different in species from that to which the +Romans gave the name of satire. + +Aristotle divides all poetry, in relation to the progress of it, +into nature without art, art begun, and art completed. Mankind, +even the most barbarous, have the seeds of poetry implanted in them. +The first specimen of it was certainly shown in the praises of the +Deity and prayers to Him; and as they are of natural obligation, so +they are likewise of divine institution: which Milton observing, +introduces Adam and Eve every morning adoring God in hymns and +prayers. The first poetry was thus begun in the wild notes of +natural poetry before the invention of feet and measures. The +Grecians and Romans had no other original of their poetry. +Festivals and holidays soon succeeded to private worship, and we +need not doubt but they were enjoined by the true God to His own +people, as they were afterwards imitated by the heathens; who by the +light of reason knew they were to invoke some superior being in +their necessities, and to thank him for his benefits. Thus the +Grecian holidays were celebrated with offerings to Bacchus and Ceres +and other deities, to whose bounty they supposed they were owing for +their corn and wine and other helps of life. And the ancient +Romans, as Horace tells us, paid their thanks to Mother Earth or +Vesta, to Silvanus, and their Genius in the same manner. But as all +festivals have a double reason of their institution--the first of +religion, the other of recreation for the unbending of our minds--so +both the Grecians and Romans agreed (after their sacrifices were +performed) to spend the remainder of the day in sports and +merriments; amongst which songs and dances, and that which they +called wit (for want of knowing better), were the chiefest +entertainments. The Grecians had a notion of Satyrs, whom I have +already described; and taking them and the Sileni--that is, the +young Satyrs and the old--for the tutors, attendants, and humble +companions of their Bacchus, habited themselves like those rural +deities, and imitated them in their rustic dances, to which they +joined songs with some sort of rude harmony, but without certain +numbers; and to these they added a kind of chorus. + +The Romans also, as nature is the same in all places, though they +knew nothing of those Grecian demi-gods, nor had any communication +with Greece, yet had certain young men who at their festivals danced +and sang after their uncouth manner to a certain kind of verse which +they called Saturnian. What it was we have no certain light from +antiquity to discover; but we may conclude that, like the Grecian, +it was void of art, or, at least, with very feeble beginnings of it. +Those ancient Romans at these holy days, which were a mixture of +devotion and debauchery, had a custom of reproaching each other with +their faults in a sort of extempore poetry, or rather of tunable +hobbling verse, and they answered in the same kind of gross +raillery--their wit and their music being of a piece. The Grecians, +says Casaubon, had formerly done the same in the persons of their +petulant Satyrs; but I am afraid he mistakes the matter, and +confounds the singing and dancing of the Satyrs with the rustical +entertainments of the first Romans. The reason of my opinion is +this: that Casaubon finding little light from antiquity of these +beginnings of poetry amongst the Grecians, but only these +representations of Satyrs who carried canisters and cornucopias full +of several fruits in their hands, and danced with them at their +public feasts, and afterwards reading Horace, who makes mention of +his homely Romans jesting at one another in the same kind of +solemnities, might suppose those wanton Satyrs did the same; and +especially because Horace possibly might seem to him to have shown +the original of all poetry in general (including the Grecians as +well as Romans), though it is plainly otherwise that he only +described the beginning and first rudiments of poetry in his own +country. The verses are these, which he cites from the First +Epistle of the Second Book, which was written to Augustus:- + + +"Agricolae prisci, fortes, parvoque beati, +Condita post frumenta, levantes tempore festo +Corpus, et ipsum animum spe finis dura ferentem, +Cum sociis operum, et pueris, et conjuge fida, +Tellurem porco, Silvanum lacte piabant; +Floribus et vino Genium memorem brevis aevi. +Fescennina per hunc inventa licentia morem +Versibus alternis opprobria rustica fudit." + + +"Our brawny clowns of old, who turned the soil, +Content with little, and inured to toil, +At harvest-home, with mirth and country cheer, +Restored their bodies for another year, +Refreshed their spirits, and renewed their hope +Of such a future feast and future crop. +Then with their fellow-joggers of the ploughs, +Their little children, and their faithful spouse, +A sow they slew to Vesta's deity, +And kindly milk, Silvanus, poured to thee. +With flowers and wine their Genius they adored; +A short life and a merry was the word. +From flowing cups defaming rhymes ensue, +And at each other homely taunts they threw." + + +Yet since it is a hard conjecture that so great a man as Casaubon +should misapply what Horace writ concerning ancient Rome to the +ceremonies and manners of ancient Greece, I will not insist on this +opinion, but rather judge in general that since all poetry had its +original from religion, that of the Grecians and Rome had the same +beginning. Both were invented at festivals of thanksgiving, and +both were prosecuted with mirth and raillery and rudiments of +verses; amongst the Greeks by those who represented Satyrs, and +amongst the Romans by real clowns. + +For, indeed, when I am reading Casaubon on these two subjects +methinks I hear the same story told twice over with very little +alteration. Of which Dacier, taking notice in his interpretation of +the Latin verses which I have translated, says plainly that the +beginning of poetry was the same, with a small variety, in both +countries, and that the mother of it in all nations was devotion. +But what is yet more wonderful, that most learned critic takes +notice also, in his illustrations on the First Epistle of the Second +Book, that as the poetry of the Romans and that of the Grecians had +the same beginning at feasts and thanksgiving (as it has been +observed), and the old comedy of the Greeks (which was invective) +and the satire of the Romans (which was of the same nature) were +begun on the very same occasion, so the fortune of both in process +of time was just the same--the old comedy of the Grecians was +forbidden for its too much licence in exposing of particular +persons, and the rude satire of the Romans was also punished by a +law of the Decemviri, as Horace tells us in these words:- + + +"Libertasque recurrentes accepta per annos +Lusit amabiliter; donec jam saevus apertam +In rabiem verti caepit jocus, et per honestas +Ire domos impune minax: doluere cruento +Dente lacessiti; fuit intactis quoque cura +Conditione super communi: quinetiam lex, +Paenaque lata, malo quae nollet carmine quenquam +Describi: vertere modum, formidine fustis +Ad benedicendum delectandumque redacti." + + +The law of the Decemviri was this: Siquis occentassit malum carmen, +sive condidissit, quod infamiam faxit, flagitiumve alteri, capital +esto. A strange likeness, and barely possible; but the critics +being all of the same opinion, it becomes me to be silent and to +submit to better judgments than my own. + +But to return to the Grecians, from whose satiric dramas the elder +Scaliger and Heinsius will have the Roman satire to proceed; I am to +take a view of them first, and see if there be any such descent from +them as those authors have pretended. + +Thespis, or whoever he were that invented tragedy (for authors +differ), mingled with them a chorus and dances of Satyrs which had +before been used in the celebration of their festivals, and there +they were ever afterwards retained. The character of them was also +kept, which was mirth and wantonness; and this was given, I suppose, +to the folly of the common audience, who soon grow weary of good +sense, and, as we daily see in our own age and country, are apt to +forsake poetry, and still ready to return to buffoonery and farce. +From hence it came that in the Olympic Games, where the poets +contended for four prizes, the satiric tragedy was the last of them, +for in the rest the Satyrs were excluded from the chorus. Amongst +the plays of Euripides which are yet remaining, there is one of +these satirics, which is called The Cyclops, in which we may see the +nature of those poems, and from thence conclude what likeness they +have to the Roman satire. + +The story of this Cyclops, whose name was Polyphemus (so famous in +the Grecian fables), was that Ulysses, who with his company was +driven on the coast of Sicily, where those Cyclops inhabited, coming +to ask relief from Silenus and the Satyrs, who were herdsmen to that +one-eyed giant, was kindly received by them, and entertained till, +being perceived by Polyphemus, they were made prisoners against the +rites of hospitality (for which Ulysses eloquently pleaded), were +afterwards put down into the den, and some of them devoured; after +which Ulysses (having made him drunk when he was asleep) thrust a +great fire-brand into his eye, and so revenging his dead followers +escaped with the remaining party of the living, and Silenus and the +Satyrs were freed from their servitude under Polyphemus and remitted +to their first liberty of attending and accompanying their patron +Bacchus. + +This was the subject of the tragedy, which, being one of those that +end with a happy event, is therefore by Aristotle judged below the +other sort, whose success is unfortunate; notwithstanding which, the +Satyrs (who were part of the dramatis personae, as well as the whole +chorus) were properly introduced into the nature of the poem, which +is mixed of farce and tragedy. The adventure of Ulysses was to +entertain the judging part of the audience, and the uncouth persons +of Silenus and the Satyrs to divert the common people with their +gross railleries. + +Your lordship has perceived by this time that this satiric tragedy +and the Roman satire have little resemblance in any of their +features. The very kinds are different; for what has a pastoral +tragedy to do with a paper of verses satirically written? The +character and raillery of the Satyrs is the only thing that could +pretend to a likeness, were Scaliger and Heinsius alive to maintain +their opinion. And the first farces of the Romans, which were the +rudiments of their poetry, were written before they had any +communication with the Greeks, or indeed any knowledge of that +people. + +And here it will be proper to give the definition of the Greek +satiric poem from Casaubon before I leave this subject. "The +'satiric,'" says he, "is a dramatic poem annexed to a tragedy having +a chorus which consists of Satyrs. The persons represented in it +are illustrious men, the action of it is great, the style is partly +serious and partly jocular, and the event of the action most +commonly is happy." + +The Grecians, besides these satiric tragedies, had another kind of +poem, which they called "silli," which were more of kin to the Roman +satire. Those "silli" were indeed invective poems, but of a +different species from the Roman poems of Ennius, Pacuvius, +Lucilius, Horace, and the rest of their successors. "They were so +called," says Casaubon in one place, "from Silenus, the foster- +father of Bacchus;" but in another place, bethinking himself better, +he derives their name [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] from +their scoffing and petulancy. From some fragments of the "silli" +written by Timon we may find that they were satiric poems, full of +parodies; that is, of verses patched up from great poets, and turned +into another sense than their author intended them. Such amongst +the Romans is the famous Cento of Ausonius, where the words are +Virgil's, but by applying them to another sense they are made a +relation of a wedding-night, and the act of consummation fulsomely +described in the very words of the most modest amongst all poets. +Of the same manner are our songs which are turned into burlesque, +and the serious words of the author perverted into a ridiculous +meaning. Thus in Timon's "silli" the words are generally those of +Homer and the tragic poets, but he applies them satirically to some +customs and kinds of philosophy which he arraigns. But the Romans +not using any of these parodies in their satires--sometimes indeed +repeating verses of other men, as Persius cites some of Nero's, but +not turning them into another meaning--the "silli" cannot be +supposed to be the original of Roman satire. To these "silli," +consisting of parodies, we may properly add the satires which were +written against particular persons, such as were the iambics of +Archilochus against Lycambes, which Horace undoubtedly imitated in +some of his odes and epodes, whose titles bear sufficient witness of +it: I might also name the invective of Ovid against Ibis, and many +others. But these are the underwood of satire rather than the +timber-trees; they are not of general extension, as reaching only to +some individual person. And Horace seems to have purged himself +from those splenetic reflections in those odes and epodes before he +undertook the noble work of satires, which were properly so called. + +Thus, my lord, I have at length disengaged myself from those +antiquities of Greece, and have proved, I hope, from the best +critics, that the Roman satire was not borrowed from thence, but of +their own manufacture. I am now almost gotten into my depth; at +least, by the help of Dacier, I am swimming towards it. Not that I +will promise always to follow him, any more than he follows +Casaubon; but to keep him in my eye as my best and truest guide; and +where I think he may possibly mislead me, there to have recourse to +my own lights, as I expect that others should do by me. + +Quintilian says in plain words, Satira quidem tota nostra est; and +Horace had said the same thing before him, speaking of his +predecessor in that sort of poetry, et Graecis intacti carminis +auctor. Nothing can be clearer than the opinion of the poet and the +orator (both the best critics of the two best ages of the Roman +empire), that satire was wholly of Latin growth, and not +transplanted to Rome from Athens. Yet, as I have said, Scaliger the +father, according to his custom (that is, insolently enough), +contradicts them both, and gives no better reason than the +derivation of satyrus from [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] +salacitas; and so, from the lechery of those fauns, thinks he has +sufficiently proved that satire is derived from them: as if +wantonness and lubricity were essential to that sort of poem, which +ought to be avoided in it. His other allegation, which I have +already mentioned, is as pitiful--that the Satyrs carried platters +and canisters full of fruit in their hands. If they had entered +empty-handed, had they been ever the less Satyrs? Or were the +fruits and flowers which they offered anything of kin to satire? or +any argument that this poem was originally Grecian? Casaubon judged +better, and his opinion is grounded on sure authority: that satire +was derived from satura, a Roman word which signifies full and +abundant, and full also of variety, in which nothing is wanting to +its due perfection. It is thus, says Denier, that we say a full +colour, when the wool has taken the whole tincture and drunk in as +much of the dye as it can receive. According to this derivation, +from setur comes satura or satira, according to the new spelling, as +optumus and maxumus are now spelled optimus and maximus. Satura, as +I have formerly noted, is an adjective, and relates to the word +lanx, which is understood; and this lanx (in English a "charger" or +"large platter") was yearly filled with all sorts of fruits, which +were offered to the gods at their festivals as the premices or first +gatherings. These offerings of several sorts thus mingled, it is +true, were not unknown to the Grecians, who called them [Greek text +which cannot be reproduced] a sacrifice of all sorts of fruits; and +[Greek text which cannot be reproduced], when they offered all kinds +of grain. Virgil has mentioned these sacrifices in his "Georgics":- + + +"Lancibus et pandis fumantia reddimus exta;" + + +and in another place, lancesque et liba feremus--that is, "We offer +the smoking entrails in great platters; and we will offer the +chargers and the cakes." + +This word satura has been afterward applied to many other sorts of +mixtures; as Festus calls it, a kind of olla or hotch-potch made of +several sorts of meats. Laws were also called leges saturae when +they were of several heads and titles, like our tacked Bills of +Parliament; and per saturam legem ferre in the Roman senate was to +carry a law without telling the senators, or counting voices, when +they were in haste. Sallust uses the word, per saturam sententias +exquirere, when the majority was visibly on one side. From hence it +might probably be conjectured that the Discourses or Satires of +Ennius, Lucilius, and Horace, as we now call them, took their name, +because they are full of various matters, and are also written on +various subjects--as Porphyrius says. But Dacier affirms that it is +not immediately from thence that these satires are so called, for +that name had been used formerly for other things which bore a +nearer resemblance to those discourses of Horace; in explaining of +which, continues Dacier, a method is to be pursued of which Casaubon +himself has never thought, and which will put all things into so +clear a light that no further room will be left for the least +dispute. + +During the space of almost four hundred years since the building of +their city the Romans had never known any entertainments of the +stage. Chance and jollity first found out those verses which they +called Saturnian and Fescennine; or rather human nature, which is +inclined to poetry, first produced them rude and barbarous and +unpolished, as all other operations of the soul are in their +beginnings before they are cultivated with art and study. However, +in occasions of merriment, they were first practised; and this +rough-cast, unhewn poetry was instead of stage-plays for the space +of a hundred and twenty years together. They were made extempore, +and were, as the French call them, impromptus; for which the +Tarsians of old were much renowned, and we see the daily examples of +them in the Italian farces of Harlequin and Scaramucha. Such was +the poetry of that savage people before it was tuned into numbers +and the harmony of verse. Little of the Saturnian verses is now +remaining; we only know from authors that they were nearer prose +than poetry, without feet or measure. They were [Greek text which +cannot be reproduced] but not [Greek text which cannot be +reproduced]. Perhaps they might be used in the solemn part of their +ceremonies; and the Fescennine, which were invented after them, in +their afternoons' debauchery, because they were scoffing and +obscene. + +The Fescennine and Saturnian were the same; for as they were called +Saturnian from their ancientness, when Saturn reigned in Italy, they +were also called Fescennine, from Fescennia, a town in the same +country where they were first practised. The actors, with a gross +and rustic kind of raillery, reproached each other with their +failings, and at the same time were nothing sparing of it to their +audience. Somewhat of this custom was afterwards retained in their +Saturnalia, or Feasts of Saturn, celebrated in December; at least, +all kind of freedom in speech was then allowed to slaves, even +against their masters; and we are not without some imitation of it +in our Christmas gambols. Soldiers also used those Fescennine +verses, after measure and numbers had been added to them, at the +triumph of their generals; of which we have an example in the +triumph of Julius Caesar over Gaul in these expressions: Caesar +Gallias subegit, Nicomedes Caesarem. Ecce Caesar nunc triumphat, +qui subegit Gallias; Nicomedes non triumphat, qui subegit Caesarem. +The vapours of wine made those first satirical poets amongst the +Romans, which, says Dacier, we cannot better represent than by +imagining a company of clowns on a holiday dancing lubberly and +upbraiding one another in extempore doggerel with their defects and +vices, and the stories that were told of them in bake-houses and +barbers' shops. + +When they began to be somewhat better bred, and were entering, as I +may say, into the first rudiments of civil conversation, they left +these hedge-notes for another sort of poem, somewhat polished, which +was also full of pleasant raillery, but without any mixture of +obscenity. This sort of poetry appeared under the name of "satire" +because of its variety; and this satire was adorned with +compositions of music, and with dances; but lascivious postures were +banished from it. In the Tuscan language, says Livy, the word +hister signifies a player; and therefore those actors which were +first brought from Etruria to Rome on occasion of a pestilence, when +the Romans were admonished to avert the anger of the gods by plays +(in the year ab urbe condita CCCXC.)--those actors, I say, were +therefore called histriones: and that name has since remained, not +only to actors Roman born, but to all others of every nation. They +played, not the former extempore stuff of Fescennine verses or +clownish jests, but what they acted was a kind of civil cleanly +farce, with music and dances, and motions that were proper to the +subject. + +In this condition Livius Andronicus found the stage when he +attempted first, instead of farces, to supply it with a nobler +entertainment of tragedies and comedies. This man was a Grecian +born, and being made a slave by Livius Salinator, and brought to +Rome, had the education of his patron's children committed to him, +which trust he discharged so much to the satisfaction of his master +that he gave him his liberty. + +Andronicus, thus become a freeman of Rome, added to his own name +that of Livius, his master; and, as I observed, was the first author +of a regular play in that commonwealth. Being already instructed in +his native country in the manners and decencies of the Athenian +theatre, and conversant in the archaea comaedia or old comedy of +Aristophanes and the rest of the Grecian poets, he took from that +model his own designing of plays for the Roman stage, the first of +which was represented in the year CCCCCXIV. since the building of +Rome, as Tully, from the Commentaries of Atticus, has assured us; it +was after the end of the first Punic War, the year before Atticus +was born. Dacier has not carried the matter altogether thus far; he +only says that one Livius Andronicus was the first stage-poet at +Rome. But I will adventure on this hint to advance another +proposition, which I hope the learned will approve; and though we +have not anything of Andronicus remaining to justify my conjecture, +yet it is exceeding probable that, having read the works of those +Grecian wits, his countrymen, he imitated not only the groundwork, +but also the manner of their writing; and how grave soever his +tragedies might be, yet in his comedies he expressed the way of +Aristophanes, Eupolis, and the rest, which was to call some persons +by their own names, and to expose their defects to the laughter of +the people (the examples of which we have in the fore-mentioned +Aristophanes, who turned the wise Socrates into ridicule, and is +also very free with the management of Cleon, Alcibiades, and other +ministers of the Athenian government). Now if this be granted, we +may easily suppose that the first hint of satirical plays on the +Roman stage was given by the Greeks--not from the satirica, for that +has been reasonably exploded in the former part of this discourse-- +but from their old comedy, which was imitated first by Livius +Andronicus. And then Quintilian and Horace must be cautiously +interpreted, where they affirm that satire is wholly Roman, and a +sort of verse which was not touched on by the Grecians. The +reconcilement of my opinion to the standard of their judgment is +not, however, very difficult, since they spoke of satire, not as in +its first elements, but as it was formed into a separate work--begun +by Ennius, pursued by Lucilius, and completed afterwards by Horace. +The proof depends only on this postalatum--that the comedies of +Andronicus, which were imitations of the Greek, were also imitations +of their railleries and reflections on particular persons. For if +this be granted me, which is a most probable supposition, it is easy +to infer that the first light which was given to the Roman +theatrical satire was from the plays of Livius Andronicus, which +will be more manifestly discovered when I come to speak of Ennius. +In the meantime I will return to Dacier. + +The people, says he, ran in crowds to these new entertainments of +Andronicus, as to pieces which were more noble in their kind, and +more perfect than their former satires, which for some time they +neglected and abandoned; but not long after they took them up again, +and then they joined them to their comedies, playing them at the end +of every drama, as the French continue at this day to act their +farces, in the nature of a separate entertainment from their +tragedies. But more particularly they were joined to the "Atellane" +fables, says Casaubon; which were plays invented by the Osci. Those +fables, says Valerius Maximus, out of Livy, were tempered with the +Italian severity, and free from any note of infamy or obsceneness; +and, as an old commentator on Juvenal affirms, the Exodiarii, which +were singers and dancers, entered to entertain the people with light +songs and mimical gestures, that they might not go away oppressed +with melancholy from those serious pieces of the theatre. So that +the ancient satire of the Romans was in extempore reproaches; the +next was farce, which was brought from Tuscany; to that succeeded +the plays of Andronicus, from the old comedy of the Grecians; and +out of all these sprang two several branches of new Roman satire, +like different scions from the same root, which I shall prove with +as much brevity as the subject will allow. + +A year after Andronicus had opened the Roman stage with his new +dramas, Ennius was born; who, when he was grown to man's estate, +having seriously considered the genius of the people, and how +eagerly they followed the first satires, thought it would be worth +his pains to refine upon the project, and to write satires, not to +be acted on the theatre, but read. He preserved the groundwork of +their pleasantry, their venom, and their raillery on particular +persons and general vices; and by this means, avoiding the danger of +any ill success in a public representation, he hoped to be as well +received in the cabinet as Andronicus had been upon the stage. The +event was answerable to his expectation. He made discourses in +several sorts of verse, varied often in the same paper, retaining +still in the title their original name of satire. Both in relation +to the subjects, and the variety of matters contained in them, the +satires of Horace are entirely like them; only Ennius, as I said, +confines not himself to one sort of verse, as Horace does, but +taking example from the Greeks, and even from Homer himself in his +"Margites" (which is a kind of satire, as Scaliger observes), gives +himself the licence, when one sort of numbers comes not easily, to +run into another, as his fancy dictates; for he makes no difficulty +to mingle hexameters with iambic trimeters or with trochaic +tetrameters, as appears by those fragments which are yet remaining +of him. Horace has thought him worthy to be copied, inserting many +things of his into his own satires, as Virgil has done into his +"AEneids." + +Here we have Dacier making out that Ennius was the first satirist in +that way of writing, which was of his invention--that is, satire +abstracted from the stage and new modelled into papers of verses on +several subjects. But he will have Ennius take the groundwork of +satire from the first farces of the Romans rather than from the +formed plays of Livius Andronicus, which were copied from the +Grecian comedies. It may possibly be so; but Dacier knows no more +of it than I do. And it seems to me the more probable opinion that +he rather imitated the fine railleries of the Greeks, which he saw +in the pieces of Andronicus, than the coarseness of his own +countrymen in their clownish extemporary way of jeering. + +But besides this, it is universally granted that Ennius, though an +Italian, was excellently learned in the Greek language. His verses +were stuffed with fragments of it, even to a fault; and he himself +believed, according to the Pythagorean opinion, that the soul of +Homer was transfused into him, which Persius observes in his sixth +satire--postquam destertuit esse Maeonides. But this being only the +private opinion of so inconsiderable a man as I am, I leave it to +the further disquisition of the critics, if they think it worth +their notice. Most evident it is that, whether he imitated the +Roman farce or the Greek comedies, he is to be acknowledged for the +first author of Roman satire, as it is properly so called, and +distinguished from any sort of stage-play. + +Of Pacuvius, who succeeded him, there is little to be said, because +there is so little remaining of him; only that he is taken to be the +nephew of Ennius, his sister's son; that in probability he was +instructed by his uncle in his way of satire, which we are told he +has copied; but what advances he made, we know not. + +Lucilius came into the world when Pacuvius flourished most. He also +made satires after the manner of Ennius; but he gave them a more +graceful turn, and endeavoured to imitate more closely the vetus +comaedia of the Greeks, of the which the old original Roman satire +had no idea till the time of Livius Andronicus. And though Horace +seems to have made Lucilius the first author of satire in verse +amongst the Romans in these words - + + +"Quid? cum est Lucilius auses +Primus in hunc operis componere carmina morem" - + + +he is only thus to be understood--that Lucilius had given a more +graceful turn to the satire of Ennius and Pacuvius, not that he +invented a new satire of his own; and Quintilian seems to explain +this passage of Horace in these words: Satira quidem tota nostra +est; in qua primus insignem laudem adeptus est Luciluis. + +Thus both Horace and Quintilian give a kind of primacy of honour to +Lucilius amongst the Latin satirists; for as the Roman language grew +more refined, so much more capable it was of receiving the Grecian +beauties, in his time. Horace and Quintilian could mean no more +than that Lucilius writ better than Ennius and Pacuvius, and on the +same account we prefer Horace to Lucilius. Both of them imitated +the old Greek comedy; and so did Ennius and Pacuvius before them. +The polishing of the Latin tongue, in the succession of times, made +the only difference; and Horace himself in two of his satires, +written purposely on this subject, thinks the Romans of his age were +too partial in their commendations of Lucilius, who writ not only +loosely and muddily, with little art and much less care, but also in +a time when the Latin tongue was not yet sufficiently purged from +the dregs of barbarism; and many significant and sounding words +which the Romans wanted were not admitted even in the times of +Lucretius and Cicero, of which both complain. + +But to proceed: Dacier justly taxes Casaubon for saying that the +satires of Lucilius were wholly different in species from those of +Ennius and Pacuvius, Casaubon was led into that mistake by Diomedes +the grammarian, who in effect says this:- "Satire amongst the Romans +but not amongst the Greeks, was a biting invective poem, made after +the model of the ancient comedy, for the reprehension of vices; such +as were the poems of Lucilius, of Horace, and of Persius. But in +former times the name of satire was given to poems which were +composed of several sorts of verses, such as were made by Ennius and +Pacuvius"--more fully expressing the etymology of the word satire +from satura, which we have observed. Here it is manifest that +Diomedes makes a specifical distinction betwixt the satires of +Ennius and those of Lucilius. But this, as we say in English, is +only a distinction without a difference; for the reason of it is +ridiculous and absolutely false. This was that which cozened honest +Casaubon, who, relying on Diomedes, had not sufficiently examined +the origin and nature of those two satires, which were entirely the +same both in the matter and the form; for all that Lucilius +performed beyond his predecessors, Ennius and Pacuvius, was only the +adding of more politeness and more salt, without any change in the +substance of the poem. And though Lucilius put not together in the +same satire several sorts of verses, as Ennius did, yet he composed +several satires of several sorts of verses, and mingled them with +Greek verses: one poem consisted only of hexameters, and another +was entirely of iambics; a third of trochaics; as is visible by the +fragments yet remaining of his works. In short, if the satires of +Lucilius are therefore said to be wholly different from those of +Ennius because he added much more of beauty and polishing to his own +poems than are to be found in those before him, it will follow from +hence that the satires of Horace are wholly different from those of +Lucilius, because Horace has not less surpassed Lucilius in the +elegancy of his writing than Lucilius surpassed Ennius in the turn +and ornament of his. This passage of Diomedes has also drawn Dousa +the son into the same error of Casaubon, which I say, not to expose +the little failings of those judicious men, but only to make it +appear with how much diffidence and caution we are to read their +works when they treat a subject of so much obscurity and so very +ancient as is this of satire. + +Having thus brought down the history of satire from its original to +the times of Horace, and shown the several changes of it, I should +here discover some of those graces which Horace added to it, but +that I think it will be more proper to defer that undertaking till I +make the comparison betwixt him and Juvenal. In the meanwhile, +following the order of time, it will be necessary to say somewhat of +another kind of satire which also was descended from the ancient; it +is that which we call the Varronian satire (but which Varro himself +calls the Menippean) because Varro, the most learned of the Romans, +was the first author of it, who imitated in his works the manners of +Menippus the Gadarenian, who professed the philosophy of the Cynics. + +This sort of satire was not only composed of several sorts of verse, +like those of Ennius, but was also mixed with prose, and Greek was +sprinkled amongst the Latin. Quintilian, after he had spoken of the +satire of Lucilius, adds what follows:- "There is another and former +kind of satire, composed by Terentius Varro, the most learned of the +Romans, in which he was not satisfied alone with mingling in it +several sorts of verse." The only difficulty of this passage is +that Quintilian tells us that this satire of Varro was of a former +kind; for how can we possibly imagine this to be, since Varro, who +was contemporary to Cicero, must consequently be after Lucilius? +But Quintilian meant not that the satire of Varro was in order of +time before Lucilius; he would only give us to understand that the +Varronian satire, with mixture of several sorts of verses, was more +after the manner of Ennius and Pacuvius than that of Lucilius, who +was more severe and more correct, and gave himself less liberty in +the mixture of his verses in the same poem. + +We have nothing remaining of those Varronian satires excepting some +inconsiderable fragments, and those for the most part much +corrupted. The tithes of many of them are indeed preserved, and +they are generally double; from whence, at least, we may understand +how many various subjects were treated by that author. Tully in his +"Academics" introduces Varro himself giving us some light concerning +the scope and design of those works; wherein, after he had shown his +reasons why he did not ex professo write of philosophy, he adds what +follows:- "Notwithstanding," says he, "that those pieces of mine +wherein I have imitated Menippus, though I have not translated him, +are sprinkled with a kind of mirth and gaiety, yet many things are +there inserted which are drawn from the very entrails of philosophy, +and many things severely argued which I have mingled with +pleasantries on purpose that they may more easily go down with the +common sort of unlearned readers." The rest of the sentence is so +lame that we can only make thus much out of it--that in the +composition of his satires he so tempered philology with philosophy +that his work was a mixture of them both. And Tully himself +confirms us in this opinion when a little after he addresses himself +to Varro in these words:- "And you yourself have composed a most +elegant and complete poem; you have begun philosophy in many places; +sufficient to incite us, though too little to instruct us." Thus it +appears that Varro was one of those writers whom they called [Greek +text which cannot be reproduced] (studious of laughter); and that, +as learned as he was, his business was more to divert his reader +than to teach him. And he entitled his own satires Menippean; not +that Menippus had written any satires (for his were either dialogues +or epistles), but that Varro imitated his style, his manner, and his +facetiousness. All that we know further of Menippus and his +writings, which are wholly lost, is that by some he is esteemed, as, +amongst the rest, by Varro; by others he is noted of cynical +impudence and obscenity; that he was much given to those parodies +which I have already mentioned (that is, he often quoted the verses +of Homer and the tragic poets, and turned their serious meaning into +something that was ridiculous); whereas Varro's satires are by Tully +called absolute, and most elegant and various poems. Lucian, who +was emulous of this Menippus, seems to have imitated both his +manners and his style in many of his dialogues, where Menippus +himself is often introduced as a speaker in them and as a perpetual +buffoon; particularly his character is expressed in the beginning of +that dialogue which is called [Greek text which cannot be +reproduced]. But Varro in imitating him avoids his impudence and +filthiness, and only expresses his witty pleasantry. + +This we may believe for certain--that as his subjects were various, +so most of them were tales or stories of his own invention; which is +also manifest from antiquity by those authors who are acknowledged +to have written Varronian satires in imitation of his--of whom the +chief is Petronius Arbiter, whose satire, they say, is now printing +in Holland, wholly recovered, and made complete; when it is made +public, it will easily be seen by any one sentence whether it be +supposititious or genuine. Many of Lucian's dialogues may also +properly be called Varronian satires, particularly his true history; +and consequently the "Golden Ass" of Apuleius, which is taken from +him. Of the same stamp is the mock deification of Claudius by +Seneca, and the Symposium or "Caesars" of Julian the Emperor. +Amongst the moderns we may reckon the "Encomium Moriae" of Erasmus, +Barclay's "Euphormio," and a volume of German authors which my +ingenious friend Mr. Charles Killigrew once lent me. In the English +I remember none which are mixed with prose as Varro's were; but of +the same kind is "Mother Hubbard's Tale" in Spenser, and (if it be +not too vain to mention anything of my own) the poems of "Absalom" +and "MacFlecnoe." + +This is what I have to say in general of satire: only, as Dacier +has observed before me, we may take notice that the word satire is +of a more general signification in Latin than in French or English; +for amongst the Romans it was not only used for those discourses +which decried vice or exposed folly, but for others also, where +virtue was recommended. But in our modern languages we apply it +only to invective poems, where the very name of satire is formidable +to those persons who would appear to the world what they are not in +themselves; for in English, to say satire is to mean reflection, as +we use that word in the worst sense; or as the French call it, more +properly, medisance. In the criticism of spelling, it ought to be +with i, and not with y, to distinguish its true derivation from +satura, not from Satyrus; and if this be so, then it is false +spelled throughout this book, for here it is written "satyr," which +having not considered at the first, I thought it not worth +correcting afterwards. But the French are more nice, and never +spell it any otherwise than "satire." + +I am now arrived at the most difficult part of my undertaking, which +is to compare Horace with Juvenal and Persius. It is observed by +Rigaltius in his preface before Juvenal, written to Thuanus, that +these three poets have all their particular partisans and favourers. +Every commentator, as he has taken pains with any of them, thinks +himself obliged to prefer his author to the other two; to find out +their failings, and decry them, that he may make room for his own +darling. Such is the partiality of mankind, to set up that interest +which they have once espoused, though it be to the prejudice of +truth, morality, and common justice, and especially in the +productions of the brain. As authors generally think themselves the +best poets, because they cannot go out of themselves to judge +sincerely of their betters, so it is with critics, who, having first +taken a liking to one of these poets, proceed to comment on him and +to illustrate him; after which they fall in love with their own +labours to that degree of blind fondness that at length they defend +and exalt their author, not so much for his sake as for their own. +It is a folly of the same nature with that of the Romans themselves +in their games of the circus. The spectators were divided in their +factions betwixt the Veneti and the Prasini; some were for the +charioteer in blue, and some for him in green. The colours +themselves were but a fancy; but when once a man had taken pains to +set out those of his party, and had been at the trouble of procuring +voices for them, the case was altered: he was concerned for his own +labour, and that so earnestly that disputes and quarrels, +animosities, commotions, and bloodshed often happened; and in the +declension of the Grecian empire, the very sovereigns themselves +engaged in it, even when the barbarians were at their doors, and +stickled for the preference of colours when the safety of their +people was in question. I am now myself on the brink of the same +precipice; I have spent some time on the translation of Juvenal and +Persius, and it behoves me to be wary, lest for that reason I should +be partial to them, or take a prejudice against Horace. Yet on the +other side I would not be like some of our judges, who would give +the cause for a poor man right or wrong; for though that be an error +on the better hand, yet it is still a partiality, and a rich man +unheard cannot be concluded an oppressor. I remember a saying of +King Charles II. on Sir Matthew Hale (who was doubtless an uncorrupt +and upright man), that his servants were sure to be cast on any +trial which was heard before him; not that he thought the judge was +possibly to be bribed, but that his integrity might be too +scrupulous, and that the causes of the Crown were always suspicious +when the privileges of subjects were concerned. + +It had been much fairer if the modern critics who have embarked in +the quarrels of their favourite authors had rather given to each his +proper due without taking from another's heap to raise their own. +There is praise enough for each of them in particular, without +encroaching on his fellows, and detracting from them or enriching +themselves with the spoils of others. But to come to particulars: +Heinsius and Dacier are the most principal of those who raise Horace +above Juvenal and Persius. Scaliger the father, Rigaltius, and many +others debase Horace that they may set up Juvenal; and Casaubon, who +is almost single, throws dirt on Juvenal and Horace that he may +exalt Persius, whom he understood particularly well, and better than +any of his former commentators, even Stelluti, who succeeded him. I +will begin with him who, in my opinion, defends the weakest cause, +which is that of Persius; and labouring, as Tacitus professes of his +own writing, to divest myself of partiality or prejudice, consider +Persius, not as a poet whom I have wholly translated, and who has +cost me more labour and time than Juvenal, but according to what I +judge to be his own merit, which I think not equal in the main to +that of Juvenal or Horace, and yet in some things to be preferred to +both of them. + +First, then, for the verse; neither Casaubon himself, nor any for +him, can defend either his numbers or the purity of his Latin. +Casaubon gives this point for lost, and pretends not to justify +either the measures or the words of Persius; he is evidently beneath +Horace and Juvenal in both. + +Then, as his verse is scabrous and hobbling, and his words not +everywhere well chosen (the purity of Latin being more corrupted +than in the time of Juvenal, and consequently of Horace, who wrote +when the language was in the height of its perfection), so his +diction is hard, his figures are generally too bold and daring, and +his tropes, particularly his metaphors, insufferably strained. + +In the third place, notwithstanding all the diligence of Casaubon, +Stelluti, and a Scotch gentleman whom I have heard extremely +commended for his illustrations of him, yet he is still obscure; +whether he affected not to be understood but with difficulty; or +whether the fear of his safety under Nero compelled him to this +darkness in some places, or that it was occasioned by his close way +of thinking, and the brevity of his style and crowding of his +figures; or lastly, whether after so long a time many of his words +have been corrupted, and many customs and stories relating to them +lost to us; whether some of these reasons, or all, concurred to +render him so cloudy, we may be bold to affirm that the best of +commentators can but guess at his meaning in many passages, and none +can be certain that he has divined rightly. + +After all he was a young man, like his friend and contemporary +Lucan--both of them men of extraordinary parts and great acquired +knowledge, considering their youth; but neither of them had arrived +to that maturity of judgment which is necessary to the accomplishing +of a formed poet. And this consideration, as on the one hand it +lays some imperfections to their charge, so on the other side it is +a candid excuse for those failings which are incident to youth and +inexperience; and we have more reason to wonder how they, who died +before the thirtieth year of their age, could write so well and +think so strongly, than to accuse them of those faults from which +human nature (and more especially in youth) can never possibly be +exempted. + +To consider Persius yet more closely: he rather insulted over vice +and folly than exposed them like Juvenal and Horace; and as chaste +and modest as he is esteemed, it cannot be denied but that in some +places he is broad and fulsome, as the latter verses of the fourth +satire and of the sixth sufficiently witness. And it is to be +believed that he who commits the same crime often and without +necessity cannot but do it with some kind of pleasure. + +To come to a conclusion: he is manifestly below Horace because he +borrows most of his greatest beauties from him; and Casaubon is so +far from denying this that he has written a treatise purposely +concerning it, wherein he shows a multitude of his translations from +Horace, and his imitations of him, for the credit of his author, +which he calls "Imitatio Horatiana." + +To these defects (which I casually observed while I was translating +this author) Scaliger has added others; he calls him in plain terms +a silly writer and a trifler, full of ostentation of his learning, +and, after all, unworthy to come into competition with Juvenal and +Horace. + +After such terrible accusations, it is time to hear what his patron +Casaubon can allege in his defence. Instead of answering, he +excuses for the most part; and when he cannot, accuses others of the +same crimes. He deals with Scaliger as a modest scholar with a +master. He compliments him with so much reverence that one would +swear he feared him as much at least as he respected him. Scaliger +will not allow Persius to have any wit; Casaubon interprets this in +the mildest sense, and confesses his author was not good at turning +things into a pleasant ridicule, or, in other words, that he was not +a laughable writer. That he was ineptus, indeed, but that was non +aptissimus ad jocandum; but that he was ostentatious of his +learning, that by Scaliger's good favour he denies. Persius showed +his learning, but was no boaster of it; he did ostendere, but not +ostentare; and so, he says, did Scaliger (where, methinks, Casaubon +turns it handsomely upon that supercilious critic, and silently +insinuates that he himself was sufficiently vain-glorious and a +boaster of his own knowledge). All the writings of this venerable +censor, continues Casaubon, which are [Greek text which cannot be +reproduced] (more golden than gold itself), are everywhere smelling +of that thyme which, like a bee, he has gathered from ancient +authors; but far be ostentation and vain-glory from a gentleman so +well born and so nobly educated as Scaliger. But, says Scaliger, he +is so obscure that he has got himself the name of Scotinus--a dark +writer. "Now," says Casaubon, "it is a wonder to me that anything +could be obscure to the divine wit of Scaliger, from which nothing +could be hidden." This is, indeed, a strong compliment, but no +defence; and Casaubon, who could not but be sensible of his author's +blind side, thinks it time to abandon a post that was untenable. He +acknowledges that Persius is obscure in some places; but so is +Plato, so is Thucydides; so are Pindar, Theocritus, and Aristophanes +amongst the Greek poets; and even Horace and Juvenal, he might have +added, amongst the Romans. The truth is, Persius is not sometimes, +but generally obscure; and therefore Casaubon at last is forced to +excuse him by alleging that it was se defendendo, for fear of Nero, +and that he was commanded to write so cloudily by Cornutus, in +virtue of holy obedience to his master. I cannot help my own +opinion; I think Cornutus needed not to have read many lectures to +him on that subject. Persius was an apt scholar, and when he was +bidden to be obscure in some places where his life and safety were +in question, took the same counsel for all his book, and never +afterwards wrote ten lines together clearly. Casaubon, being upon +this chapter, has not failed, we may be sure, of making a compliment +to his own dear comment. "If Persius," says he, "be in himself +obscure, yet my interpretation has made him intelligible." There is +no question but he deserves that praise which he has given to +himself; but the nature of the thing, as Lucretius says, will not +admit of a perfect explanation. Besides many examples which I could +urge, the very last verse of his last satire (upon which he +particularly values himself in his preface) is not yet sufficiently +explicated. It is true, Holyday has endeavoured to justify his +construction; but Stelluti is against it: and, for my part, I can +have but a very dark notion of it. As for the chastity of his +thoughts, Casaubon denies not but that one particular passage in the +fourth satire (At, si unctus cesses, &c.) is not only the most +obscure, but the most obscene, of all his works. I understood it, +but for that reason turned it over. In defence of his boisterous +metaphors he quotes Longinus, who accounts them as instruments of +the sublime, fit to move and stir up the affections, particularly in +narration; to which it may be replied that where the trope is far- +fetched and hard, it is fit for nothing but to puzzle the +understanding, and may be reckoned amongst those things of +Demosthenes which AEschines called [Greek text which cannot be +reproduced] not [Greek text which cannot be reproduced]--that is, +prodigies, not words. It must be granted to Casaubon that the +knowledge of many things is lost in our modern ages which were of +familiar notice to the ancients, and that satire is a poem of a +difficult nature in itself, and is not written to vulgar readers; +and (through the relation which it has to comedy) the frequent +change of persons makes the sense perplexed, when we can but divine +who it is that speaks--whether Persius himself, or his friend and +monitor, or, in some places, a third person. But Casaubon comes +back always to himself, and concludes that if Persius had not been +obscure, there had been no need of him for an interpreter. Yet when +he had once enjoined himself so hard a task, he then considered the +Greek proverb, that he must [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] +(either eat the whole snail or let it quite alone); and so he went +through with his laborious task, as I have done with my difficult +translation. + +Thus far, my lord, you see it has gone very hard with Persius. I +think he cannot be allowed to stand in competition either with +Juvenal or Horace. Yet, for once, I will venture to be so vain as +to affirm that none of his hard metaphors or forced expressions are +in my translation. But more of this in its proper place, where I +shall say somewhat in particular of our general performance in +making these two authors English. In the meantime I think myself +obliged to give Persius his undoubted due, and to acquaint the +world, with Casaubon, in what he has equalled and in what excelled +his two competitors. + +A man who is resolved to praise an author with any appearance of +justice must be sure to take him on the strongest side, and where he +is least liable to exceptions; he is therefore obliged to choose his +mediums accordingly. Casaubon (who saw that Persius could not laugh +with a becoming grace, that he was not made for jesting, and that a +merry conceit was not his talent) turned his feather, like an +Indian, to another light, that he might give it the better gloss. +"Moral doctrine," says he, "and urbanity or well-mannered wit are +the two things which constitute the Roman satire; but of the two, +that which is most essential to this poem, and is, as it were, the +very soul which animates it, is the scourging of vice and +exhortation to virtue." Thus wit, for a good reason, is already +almost out of doors, and allowed only for an instrument--a kind of +tool or a weapon, as he calls it--of which the satirist makes use in +the compassing of his design. The end and aim of our three rivals +is consequently the same; but by what methods they have prosecuted +their intention is further to be considered. Satire is of the +nature of moral philosophy, as being instructive; he therefore who +instructs most usefully will carry the palm from his two +antagonists. The philosophy in which Persius was educated, and +which he professes through his whole book, is the Stoic--the most +noble, most generous, most beneficial to humankind amongst all the +sects who have given us the rules of ethics, thereby to form a +severe virtue in the soul, to raise in us an undaunted courage +against the assaults of fortune, to esteem as nothing the things +that are without us, because they are not in our power; not to value +riches, beauty, honours, fame, or health any farther than as +conveniences and so many helps to living as we ought, and doing good +in our generation. In short, to be always happy while we possess +our minds with a good conscience, are free from the slavery of +vices, and conform our actions and conversation to the rules of +right reason. See here, my lord, an epitome of Epictetus, the +doctrine of Zeno, and the education of our Persius; and this he +expressed, not only in all his satires, but in the manner of his +life. I will not lessen this commendation of the Stoic philosophy +by giving you an account of some absurdities in their doctrine, and +some perhaps impieties (if we consider them by the standard of +Christian faith). Persius has fallen into none of them, and +therefore is free from those imputations. What he teaches might be +taught from pulpits with more profit to the audience than all the +nice speculations of divinity and controversies concerning faith, +which are more for the profit of the shepherd than for the +edification of the flock. Passion, interest, ambition, and all +their bloody consequences of discord and of war are banished from +this doctrine. Here is nothing proposed but the quiet and +tranquillity of the mind; virtue lodged at home, and afterwards +diffused in her general effects to the improvement and good of +humankind. And therefore I wonder not that the present Bishop of +Salisbury has recommended this our author and the tenth satire of +Juvenal (in his pastoral letter) to the serious perusal and practice +of the divines in his diocese as the best commonplaces for their +sermons, as the storehouses and magazines of moral virtues, from +whence they may draw out, as they have occasion, all manner of +assistance for the accomplishment of a virtuous life, which the +Stoics have assigned for the great end and perfection of mankind. +Herein, then, it is that Persius has excelled both Juvenal and +Horace. He sticks to his own philosophy; he shifts not sides, like +Horace (who is sometimes an Epicurean, sometimes a Stoic, sometimes +an Eclectic, as his present humour leads him), nor declaims, like +Juvenal, against vices more like an orator than a philosopher. +Persius is everywhere the same--true to the dogmas of his master. +What he has learnt, he teaches vehemently; and what he teaches, that +he practises himself. There is a spirit of sincerity in all he +says; you may easily discern that he is in earnest, and is persuaded +of that truth which he inculcates. In this I am of opinion that he +excels Horace, who is commonly in jest, and laughs while he +instructs; and is equal to Juvenal, who was as honest and serious as +Persius, and more he could not be. + +Hitherto I have followed Casaubon, and enlarged upon him, because I +am satisfied that he says no more than truth; the rest is almost all +frivolous. For he says that Horace, being the son of a tax-gatherer +(or a collector, as we call it) smells everywhere of the meanness of +his birth and education; his conceits are vulgar, like the subjects +of his satires; that he does plebeium sepere, and writes not with +that elevation which becomes a satirist; that Persius, being nobly +born and of an opulent family, had likewise the advantage of a +better master (Cornutus being the most learned of his time, a man of +a most holy life, the chief of the Stoic sect at Rome, and not only +a great philosopher, but a poet himself, and in probability a +coadjutor of Persius: that as for Juvenal, he was long a declaimer, +came late to poetry, and had not been much conversant in philosophy. + +It is granted that the father of Horace was libertinus--that is, one +degree removed from his grandfather, who had been once a slave. But +Horace, speaking of him, gives him the best character of a father +which I ever read in history; and I wish a witty friend of mine, now +living, had such another. He bred him in the best school, and with +the best company of young noblemen; and Horace, by his gratitude to +his memory, gives a certain testimony that his education was +ingenuous. After this he formed himself abroad by the conversation +of great men. Brutus found him at Athens, and was so pleased with +him that he took him thence into the army, and made him Tribunus +Militum (a colonel in a legion), which was the preferment of an old +soldier. All this was before his acquaintance with Maecenas, and +his introduction into the court of Augustus, and the familiarity of +that great emperor; which, had he not been well bred before, had +been enough to civilise his conversation, and render him +accomplished and knowing in all the arts of complacency and good +behaviour; and, in short, an agreeable companion for the retired +hours and privacies of a favourite who was first minister. So that +upon the whole matter Persius may be acknowledged to be equal with +him in those respects, though better born, and Juvenal inferior to +both. If the advantage be anywhere, it is on the side of Horace, as +much as the court of Augustus Caesar was superior to that of Nero. +As for the subjects which they treated, it will appear hereafter +that Horace wrote not vulgarly on vulgar subjects, nor always chose +them. His style is constantly accommodated to his subject, either +high or low. If his fault be too much lowness, that of Persius is +the fault of the hardness of his metaphors and obscurity; and so +they are equal in the failings of their style, where Juvenal +manifestly triumphs over both of them. + +The comparison betwixt Horace and Juvenal is more difficult, because +their forces were more equal. A dispute has always been, and ever +will continue, betwixt the favourers of the two poets. Non nostrum +est tantas componere lites. I shall only venture to give my own +opinion, and leave it for better judges to determine. If it be only +argued in general which of them was the better poet, the victory is +already gained on the side of Horace. Virgil himself must yield to +him in the delicacy of his turns, his choice of words, and perhaps +the purity of his Latin. He who says that Pindar is inimitable, is +himself inimitable in his odes; but the contention betwixt these two +great masters is for the prize of satire, in which controversy all +the odes and epodes of Horace are to stand excluded. I say this +because Horace has written many of them satirically against his +private enemies; yet these, if justly considered, are somewhat of +the nature of the Greek silli, which were invectives against +particular sects and persons. But Horace had purged himself of this +choler before he entered on those discourses which are more properly +called the Roman satire. He has not now to do with a Lyce, a +Canidia, a Cassius Severus, or a Menas; but is to correct the vices +and the follies of his time, and to give the rules of a happy and +virtuous life. In a word, that former sort of satire which is known +in England by the name of lampoon is a dangerous sort of weapon, and +for the most part unlawful. We have no moral right on the +reputation of other men; it is taking from them what we cannot +restore to them. There are only two reasons for which we may be +permitted to write lampoons, and I will not promise that they can +always justify us. The first is revenge, when we have been +affronted in the same nature, or have been anywise notoriously +abused, and can make ourselves no other reparation. And yet we know +that in Christian charity all offences are to be forgiven, as we +expect the like pardon for those which we daily commit against +Almighty God. And this consideration has often made me tremble when +I was saying our Saviour's prayer, for the plain condition of the +forgiveness which we beg is the pardoning of others the offences +which they have done to us; for which reason I have many times +avoided the commission of that fault, even when I have been +notoriously provoked. Let not this, my lord, pass for vanity in me; +for it is truth. More libels have been written against me than +almost any man now living; and I had reason on my side to have +defended my own innocence. I speak not of my poetry, which I have +wholly given up to the critics--let them use it as they please-- +posterity, perhaps, may be more favourable to me; for interest and +passion will lie buried in another age, and partiality and prejudice +be forgotten. I speak of my morals, which have been sufficiently +aspersed--that only sort of reputation ought to be dear to every +honest man, and is to me. But let the world witness for me that I +have been often wanting to myself in that particular; I have seldom +answered any scurrilous lampoon when it was in my power to have +exposed my enemies; and, being naturally vindicative, have suffered +in silence, and possessed my soul in quiet. + +Anything, though never so little, which a man speaks of himself, in +my opinion, is still too much; and therefore I will waive this +subject, and proceed to give the second reason which may justify a +poet when he writes against a particular person, and that is when he +is become a public nuisance. All those whom Horace in his satires, +and Persius and Juvenal have mentioned in theirs with a brand of +infamy, are wholly such. It is an action of virtue to make examples +of vicious men. They may and ought to be upbraided with their +crimes and follies, both for their own amendment (if they are not +yet incorrigible), and for the terror of others, to hinder them from +falling into those enormities, which they see are so severely +punished in the persons of others. The first reason was only an +excuse for revenge; but this second is absolutely of a poet's office +to perform. But how few lampooners are there now living who are +capable of this duty! When they come in my way, it is impossible +sometimes to avoid reading them. But, good God! how remote they are +in common justice from the choice of such persons as are the proper +subject of satire, and how little wit they bring for the support of +their injustice! The weaker sex is their most ordinary theme; and +the best and fairest are sure to be the most severely handled. +Amongst men, those who are prosperously unjust are entitled to a +panegyric, but afflicted virtue is insolently stabbed with all +manner of reproaches; no decency is considered, no fulsomeness +omitted; no venom is wanting, as far as dulness can supply it, for +there is a perpetual dearth of wit, a barrenness of good sense and +entertainment. The neglect of the readers will soon put an end to +this sort of scribbling. There can be no pleasantry where there is +no wit, no impression can be made where there is no truth for the +foundation. To conclude: they are like the fruits of the earth in +this unnatural season; the corn which held up its head is spoiled +with rankness, but the greater part of the harvest is laid along, +and little of good income and wholesome nourishment is received into +the barns. This is almost a digression, I confess to your lordship; +but a just indignation forced it from me. Now I have removed this +rubbish I will return to the comparison of Juvenal and Horace. + +I would willingly divide the palm betwixt them upon the two heads of +profit and delight, which are the two ends of poetry in general. It +must be granted by the favourers of Juvenal that Horace is the more +copious and more profitable in his instructions of human life; but +in my particular opinion, which I set not up for a standard to +better judgments, Juvenal is the more delightful author. I am +profited by both, I am pleased with both; but I owe more to Horace +for my instruction, and more to Juvenal for my pleasure. This, as I +said, is my particular taste of these two authors. They who will +have either of them to excel the other in both qualities, can scarce +give better reasons for their opinion than I for mine. But all +unbiassed readers will conclude that my moderation is not to be +condemned; to such impartial men I must appeal, for they who have +already formed their judgment may justly stand suspected of +prejudice; and though all who are my readers will set up to be my +judges, I enter my caveat against them, that they ought not so much +as to be of my jury; or; if they be admitted, it is but reason that +they should first hear what I have to urge in the defence of my +opinion. + +That Horace is somewhat the better instructor of the two is proved +from hence--that his instructions are more general, Juvenal's more +limited. So that, granting that the counsels which they give are +equally good for moral use, Horace, who gives the most various +advice, and most applicable to all occasions which can occur to us +in the course of our lives--as including in his discourses not only +all the rules of morality, but also of civil conversation--is +undoubtedly to be preferred to him, who is more circumscribed in his +instructions, makes them to fewer people, and on fewer occasions, +than the other. I may be pardoned for using an old saying, since it +is true and to the purpose: Bonum quo communius, eo melius. +Juvenal, excepting only his first satire, is in all the rest +confined to the exposing of some particular vice; that he lashes, +and there he sticks. His sentences are truly shining and +instructive; but they are sprinkled here and there. Horace is +teaching us in every line, and is perpetually moral; he had found +out the skill of Virgil to hide his sentences, to give you the +virtue of them without showing them in their full extent, which is +the ostentation of a poet, and not his art. And this Petronius +charges on the authors of his time as a vice of writing, which was +then growing on the age: ne sententiae extra corpus orationis +emineant; he would have them weaved into the body of the work, and +not appear embossed upon it, and striking directly on the reader's +view. Folly was the proper quarry of Horace, and not vice; and as +there are but few notoriously wicked men in comparison with a shoal +of fools and fops, so it is a harder thing to make a man wise than +to make him honest; for the will is only to be reclaimed in the one, +but the understanding is to be informed in the other. There are +blind sides and follies even in the professors of moral philosophy, +and there is not any one sect of them that Horace has not exposed; +which, as it was not the design of Juvenal, who was wholly employed +in lashing vices (some of them the most enormous that can be +imagined), so perhaps it was not so much his talent. + + +"Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico +Tangit, et admissus circum praecordia ludit." + + +This was the commendation which Persius gave him; where by vitium he +means those little vices which we call follies, the defects of human +understanding, or at most the peccadilloes of life, rather than the +tragical vices to which men are hurried by their unruly passions and +exorbitant desires. But in the word omne, which is universal, he +concludes with me that the divine wit of Horace left nothing +untouched; that he entered into the inmost recesses of nature; found +out the imperfections even of the most wise and grave, as well as of +the common people; discovering even in the great Trebatius (to whom +he addresses the first satire) his hunting after business and +following the court, as well as in the prosecutor Crispinus, his +impertinence and importunity. It is true, he exposes Crispinus +openly as a common nuisance; but he rallies the other, as a friend, +more finely. The exhortations of Persius are confined to noblemen, +and the Stoic philosophy is that alone which he recommends to them; +Juvenal exhorts to particular virtues, as they are opposed to those +vices against which he declaims; but Horace laughs to shame all +follies, and insinuates virtue rather by familiar examples than by +the severity of precepts. + +This last consideration seems to incline the balance on the side of +Horace, and to give him the preference to Juvenal, not only in +profit, but in pleasure. But, after all, I must confess that the +delight which Horace gives me is but languishing (be pleased still +to understand that I speak of my own taste only); he may ravish +other men, but I am too stupid and insensible to be tickled. Where +he barely grins himself, and, as Scaliger says, only shows his white +teeth, he cannot provoke me to any laughter. His urbanity--that is, +his good manners--are to be commended; but his wit is faint, and his +salt (if I may dare to say so) almost insipid. Juvenal is of a more +vigorous and masculine wit; he gives me as much pleasure as I can +bear; he fully satisfies my expectation; he treats his subject home; +his spleen is raised, and he raises mine. I have the pleasure of +concernment in all he says; he drives his reader along with him, and +when he is at the end of his way, I willingly stop with him. If he +went another stage, it would be too far; it would make a journey of +a progress, and turn delight into fatigue. When he gives over, it +is a sign the subject is exhausted, and the wit of man can carry it +no farther. If a fault can be justly found in him, it is that he is +sometimes too luxuriant, too redundant; says more than he needs, +like my friend "the Plain Dealer," but never more than pleases. Add +to this that his thoughts are as just as those of Horace, and much +more elevated; his expressions are sonorous and more noble; his +verse more numerous; and his words are suitable to his thoughts, +sublime and lofty. All these contribute to the pleasure of the +reader; and the greater the soul of him who reads, his transports +are the greater. Horace is always on the amble, Juvenal on the +gallop, but his way is perpetually on carpet-ground. He goes with +more impetuosity than Horace, but as securely; and the swiftness +adds a more lively agitation to the spirits. The low style of +Horace is according to his subject--that is, generally grovelling. +I question not but he could have raised it, for the first epistle of +the second book, which he writes to Augustus (a most instructive +satire concerning poetry), is of so much dignity in the words, and +of so much elegancy in the numbers, that the author plainly shows +the sermo pedestris in his other satires was rather his choice than +his necessity. He was a rival to Lucilius, his predecessor, and was +resolved to surpass him in his own manner. Lucilius, as we see by +his remaining fragments, minded neither his style, nor his numbers, +nor his purity of words, nor his run of verse. Horace therefore +copes with him in that humble way of satire, writes under his own +force, and carries a dead weight, that he may match his competitor +in the race. This, I imagine, was the chief reason why he minded +only the clearness of his satire, and the cleanness of expression, +without ascending to those heights to which his own vigour might +have carried him. But limiting his desires only to the conquest of +Lucilius, he had his ends of his rival, who lived before him, but +made way for a new conquest over himself by Juvenal his successor. +He could not give an equal pleasure to his reader, because he used +not equal instruments. The fault was in the tools, and not in the +workman. But versification and numbers are the greatest pleasures +of poetry. Virgil knew it, and practised both so happily that, for +aught I know, his greatest excellency is in his diction. In all +other parts of poetry he is faultless, but in this he placed his +chief perfection. And give me leave, my lord, since I have here an +apt occasion, to say that Virgil could have written sharper satires +than either Horace or Juvenal if he would have employed his talent +that way. I will produce a verse and half of his, in one of his +Eclogues, to justify my opinion, and with commas after every word, +to show that he has given almost as many lashes as he has written +syllables. It is against a bad poet, whose ill verses he describes + + +"Non tu, in triviis indocte, solebas +Stridenti, miserum, stipula, disperdere carmen?" + + +But to return to my purpose. When there is anything deficient in +numbers and sound, the reader is uneasy and unsatisfied; he wants +something of his complement, desires somewhat which he finds not: +and this being the manifest defect of Horace, it is no wonder that, +finding it supplied in Juvenal, we are more delighted with him. And +besides this, the sauce of Juvenal is more poignant, to create in us +an appetite of reading him. The meat of Horace is more nourishing, +but the cookery of Juvenal more exquisite; so that, granting Horace +to be the more general philosopher, we cannot deny that Juvenal was +the greater poet--I mean, in satire. His thoughts are sharper, his +indignation against vice is more vehement, his spirit has more of +the commonwealth genius; he treats tyranny, and all the vices +attending it, as they deserve, with the utmost rigour; and +consequently a noble soul is better pleased with a zealous +vindicator of Roman liberty than with a temporising poet, a well- +mannered court slave, and a man who is often afraid of laughing in +the right place--who is ever decent, because he is naturally +servile. + +After all, Horace had the disadvantage of the times in which he +lived; they were better for the man, but worse for the satirist. It +is generally said that those enormous vices which were practised +under the reign of Domitian were unknown in the time of Augustus +Caesar; that therefore Juvenal had a larger field than Horace. +Little follies were out of doors when oppression was to be scourged +instead of avarice; it was no longer time to turn into ridicule the +false opinions of philosophers when the Roman liberty was to be +asserted. There was more need of a Brutus in Domitian's days to +redeem or mend, than of a Horace, if he had then been living, to +laugh at a fly-catcher. This reflection at the same time excuses +Horace, but exalts Juvenal. I have ended, before I was aware, the +comparison of Horace and Juvenal upon the topics of instruction and +delight; and indeed I may safely here conclude that commonplace: +for if we make Horace our minister of state in satire, and Juvenal +of our private pleasures, I think the latter has no ill bargain of +it. Let profit have the pre-eminence of honour in the end of +poetry; pleasure, though but the second in degree, is the first in +favour. And who would not choose to be loved better rather than to +be more esteemed! But I am entered already upon another topic, +which concerns the particular merits of these two satirists. +However, I will pursue my business where I left it, and carry it +farther than that common observation of the several ages in which +these authors flourished. + +When Horace writ his satires, the monarchy of his Caesar was in its +newness, and the government but just made easy to the conquered +people. They could not possibly have forgotten the usurpation of +that prince upon their freedom, nor the violent methods which he had +used in the compassing of that vast design; they yet remembered his +proscriptions, and the slaughter of so many noble Romans their +defenders--amongst the rest, that horrible action of his when he +forced Livia from the arms of her husband (who was constrained to +see her married, as Dion relates the story), and, big with child as +she was, conveyed to the bed of his insulting rival. The same Dion +Cassius gives us another instance of the crime before mentioned-- +that Cornelius Sisenna, being reproached in full senate with the +licentious conduct of his wife, returned this answer: that he had +married her by the counsel of Augustus (intimating, says my author, +that Augustus had obliged him to that marriage, that he might under +that covert have the more free access to her). His adulteries were +still before their eyes, but they must be patient where they had not +power. In other things that emperor was moderate enough; propriety +was generally secured, and the people entertained with public shows +and donatives, to make them more easily digest their lost liberty. +But Augustus, who was conscious to himself of so many crimes which +he had committed, thought in the first place to provide for his own +reputation by making an edict against lampoons and satires, and the +authors of those defamatory writings, which my author Tacitus, from +the law-term, calls famosos libellos. + +In the first book of his Annals he gives the following account of it +in these words:- Primus Augustus cognitionem de famosis libellis, +specie legis ejus, tractavit; commotus Cassii Severi libidine, qua +viros faeminasque illustres procacibus scriptis diffamaverat. Thus +in English:- "Augustus was the first who, under the colour of that +law, took cognisance of lampoons, being provoked to it by the +petulancy of Cassius Severus, who had defamed many illustrious +persons of both sexes in his writings." The law to which Tacitus +refers was Lex laesae majestatis; commonly called, for the sake of +brevity, majestas; or, as we say, high-treason. He means not that +this law had not been enacted formerly (for it had been made by the +Decemviri, and was inscribed amongst the rest in the Twelve Tables, +to prevent the aspersion of the Roman majesty, either of the people +themselves, or their religion, or their magistrates; and the +infringement of it was capital--that is, the offender was whipped to +death with the fasces which were borne before their chief officers +of Rome), but Augustus was the first who restored that intermitted +law. By the words "under colour of that law" he insinuates that +Augustus caused it to be executed on pretence of those libels which +were written by Cassius Severus against the nobility, but in truth +to save himself from such defamatory verses. Suetonius likewise +makes mention of it thus:- Sparsos de se in curia famosos libellos, +nec exparit, et magna cura redarguit. Ac ne requisitis quidem +auctoribus, id modo censuit, cognoscendum posthac de iis qui +libellos aut carmina ad infamiam cujuspiam sub alieno nomine edant. +"Augustus was not afraid of libels," says that author, "yet he took +all care imaginable to have them answered, and then decreed that for +the time to come the authors of them should be punished." But +Aurelius makes it yet more clear, according to my sense, that this +emperor for his own sake durst not permit them:- Fecit id Augustus +in speciem, et quasi gratificaretur populo Romano, et primoribus +urbis; sed revera ut sibi consuleret: nam habuit in animo +comprimere nimiam quorundam procacitatem in loquendo, a qua nec ipse +exemptus fuit. Nam suo nomine compescere erat invidiosum, sub +alieno facile et utile. Ergo specie legis tractavit, quasi populi +Romani majestas infamaretur. This, I think, is a sufficient comment +on that passage of Tacitus. I will add only by the way that the +whole family of the Caesars and all their relations were included in +the law, because the majesty of the Romans in the time of the Empire +was wholly in that house: Omnia Caesar erat; they were all +accounted sacred who belonged to him. As for Cassius Severus, he +was contemporary with Horace, and was the same poet against whom he +writes in his epodes under this title, In Cassium Severum, maledicum +poctam--perhaps intending to kill two crows, according to our +proverb, with one stone, and revenge both himself and his emperor +together. + +From hence I may reasonably conclude that Augustus, who was not +altogether so good as he was wise, had some by-respect in the +enacting of this law; for to do anything for nothing was not his +maxim. Horace, as he was a courtier, complied with the interest of +his master; and, avoiding the lashing of greater crimes, confined +himself to the ridiculing of petty vices and common follies, +excepting only some reserved cases in his odes and epodes of his own +particular quarrels (which either with permission of the magistrate +or without it, every man will revenge, though I say not that he +should; for prior laesit is a good excuse in the civil law if +Christianity had not taught us to forgive). However, he was not the +proper man to arraign great vices; at least, if the stories which we +hear of him are true--that he practised some which I will not here +mention, out of honour to him. It was not for a Clodius to accuse +adulterers, especially when Augustus was of that number. So that, +though his age was not exempted from the worst of villainies, there +was no freedom left to reprehend them by reason of the edict; and +our poet was not fit to represent them in an odious character, +because himself was dipped in the same actions. Upon this account, +without further insisting on the different tempers of Juvenal and +Horace, I conclude that the subjects which Horace chose for satire +are of a lower nature than those of which Juvenal has written. + +Thus I have treated, in a new method, the comparison betwixt Horace, +Juvenal, and Persius. Somewhat of their particular manner, +belonging to all of them, is yet remaining to be considered. +Persius was grave, and particularly opposed his gravity to lewdness, +which was the predominant vice in Nero's court at the time when he +published his satires, which was before that emperor fell into the +excess of cruelty. Horace was a mild admonisher, a court satirist, +fit for the gentle times of Augustus, and more fit for the reasons +which I have already given. Juvenal was as proper for his times as +they for theirs; his was an age that deserved a more severe +chastisement; vices were more gross and open, more flagitious, more +encouraged by the example of a tyrant, and more protected by his +authority. Therefore, wheresoever Juvenal mentions Nero, he means +Domitian, whom he dares not attack in his own person, but scourges +him by proxy. Heinsius urges in praise of Horace that, according to +the ancient art and law of satire, it should be nearer to comedy +than to tragedy; not declaiming against vice, but only laughing at +it. Neither Persius nor Juvenal was ignorant of this, for they had +both studied Horace. And the thing itself is plainly true. But as +they had read Horace, they had likewise read Lucilius, of whom +Persius says, Secuit urbem; . . . et genuinum fregit in illis; +meaning Mutius and Lupus; and Juvenal also mentions him in these +words + + +"Ense velut stricto, quoties Lucilius ardens +Infremuit, rubet auditor, cui frigida mens est +Criminibus, tacita sulant praecordia culpa." + + +So that they thought the imitation of Lucilius was more proper to +their purpose than that of Horace. "They changed satire," says +Holyday, "but they changed it for the better; for the business being +to reform great vices, chastisement goes farther than admonition; +whereas a perpetual grin, like that of Horace, does rather anger +than amend a man." + +Thus far that learned critic Barten Holyday, whose interpretation +and illustrations of Juvenal are as excellent as the verse of his +translation and his English are lame and pitiful; for it is not +enough to give us the meaning of a poet (which I acknowledge him to +have performed most faithfully) but he must also imitate his genius +and his numbers as far as the English will come up to the elegance +of the original. In few words, it is only for a poet to translate a +poet. Holyday and Stapleton had not enough considered this when +they attempted Juvenal; but I forbear reflections: only I beg leave +to take notice of this sentence, where Holyday says, "a perpetual +grin, like that of Horace, rather angers than amends a man." I +cannot give him up the manner of Horace in low satire so easily. +Let the chastisements of Juvenal be never so necessary for his new +kind of satire, let him declaim as wittily and sharply as he +pleases, yet still the nicest and most delicate touches of satire +consist in fine raillery. This, my lord, is your particular talent, +to which even Juvenal could not arrive. It is not reading, it is +not imitation of, an author which can produce this fineness; it must +be inborn; it must proceed from a genius, and particular way of +thinking, which is not to be taught, and therefore not to be +imitated by him who has it not from nature. How easy it is to call +rogue and villain, and that wittily! but how hard to make a man +appear a fool, a blockhead, or a knave, without using any of those +opprobrious terms! To spare the grossness of the names, and to do +the thing yet more severely, is to draw a full face and to make the +nose and cheeks stand out, and yet not to employ any depth of +shadowing. This is the mystery of that noble trade, which yet no +master can teach to his apprentice; he may give the rules, but the +scholar is never the nearer in his practice. Neither is it true +that this fineness of raillery is offensive; a witty man is tickled, +while he is hurt in this manner; and a fool feels it not. The +occasion of an offence may possibly be given, but he cannot take it. +If it be granted that in effect this way does more mischief; that a +man is secretly wounded, and though he be not sensible himself, yet +the malicious world will find it for him; yet there is still a vast +difference betwixt the slovenly butchering of a man, and the +fineness of a stroke that separates the head from the body and +leaves it standing in its place. A man may be capable, as Jack +Ketch's wife said of his servant, of a plain piece of work, a bare +hanging; but to make a malefactor die sweetly was only belonging to +her husband. I wish I could apply it to myself, if the reader would +be kind enough to think it belongs to me. The character of Zimri, +in my "Absalom" is, in my opinion, worth the whole poem; it is not +bloody, but it is ridiculous enough; and he for whom it was intended +was too witty to resent it as an injury. If I had railed, I might +have suffered for it justly; but I managed my own work more happily, +perhaps more dexterously. I avoided the mention of great crimes, +and applied myself to the representing of blind-sides and little +extravagances; to which the wittier a man is, he is generally the +more obnoxious. It succeeded as I wished; the jest went round, and +he was laughed at in his turn who began the frolic. + +And thus, my lord, you see I have preferred the manner of Horace and +of your lordship in this kind of satire to that of Juvenal, and, I +think, reasonably. Holyday ought not to have arraigned so great an +author for that which was his excellency and his merit; or, if he +did, on such a palpable mistake he might expect that some one might +possibly arise (either in his own time, or after him) to rectify his +error, and restore to Horace that commendation of which he has so +unjustly robbed him. And let the manes of Juvenal forgive me if I +say that this way of Horace was the best for amending manners, as it +is the most difficult. His was an ense rescindendum; but that of +Horace was a pleasant cure, with all the limbs preserved entire, +and, as our mountebanks tell us in their bills, without keeping the +patient within doors for a day. What they promise only, Horace has +effectually performed. Yet I contradict not the proposition which I +formerly advanced. Juvenal's times required a more painful kind of +operation; but if he had lived in the age of Horace, I must needs +affirm that he had it not about him. He took the method which was +prescribed him by his own genius, which was sharp and eager; he +could not railly, but he could declaim: and as his provocations +were great, he has revenged them tragically. This, notwithstanding +I am to say another word which, as true as it is, will yet displease +the partial admirers of our Horace; I have hinted it before, but it +is time for me now to speak more plainly. + +This manner of Horace is indeed the best; but Horace has not +executed it altogether so happily--at least, not often. The manner +of Juvenal is confessed to be inferior to the former; but Juvenal +has excelled him in his performance. Juvenal has railed more +wittily than Horace has rallied. Horace means to make his reader +laugh, but he is not sure of his experiment. Juvenal always intends +to move your indignation, and he always brings about his purpose. +Horace, for aught I know, might have tickled the people of his age, +but amongst the moderns he is not so successful. They who say he +entertains so pleasantly, may perhaps value themselves on the +quickness of their own understandings, that they can see a jest +farther off than other men; they may find occasion of laughter in +the wit-battle of the two buffoons Sarmentus and Cicerrus, and hold +their sides for fear of bursting when Rupilius and Persius are +scolding. For my own part, I can only like the characters of all +four, which are judiciously given; but for my heart I cannot so much +as smile at their insipid raillery. I see not why Persius should +call upon Brutus to revenge him on his adversary; and that because +he had killed Julius Caesar for endeavouring to be a king, therefore +he should be desired to murder Rupilius, only because his name was +Mr. King. A miserable clench, in my opinion, for Horace to record; +I have heard honest Mr. Swan make many a better, and yet have had +the grace to hold my countenance. But it may be puns were then in +fashion, as they were wit in the sermons of the last age, and in the +court of King Charles the Second. I am sorry to say it, for the +sake of Horace; but certain it is, he has no fine palate who can +feed so heartily on garbage. + +But I have already wearied myself, and doubt not but I have tired +your lordship's patience, with this long, rambling, and, I fear, +trivial discourse. Upon the one-half of the merits, that is, +pleasure, I cannot but conclude that Juvenal was the better +satirist. They who will descend into his particular praises may +find them at large in the dissertation of the learned Rigaltius to +Thuanus. As for Persius, I have given the reasons why I think him +inferior to both of them; yet I have one thing to add on that +subject. + +Barten Holyday, who translated both Juvenal and Persius, has made +this distinction betwixt them, which is no less true than witty-- +that in Persius, the difficulty is to find a meaning; in Juvenal, to +choose a meaning; so crabbed is Persius, and so copious is Juvenal; +so much the understanding is employed in one, and so much the +judgment in the other; so difficult is it to find any sense in the +former, and the best sense of the latter. + +If, on the other side, any one suppose I have commended Horace below +his merit, when I have allowed him but the second place, I desire +him to consider if Juvenal (a man of excellent natural endowments, +besides the advantages of diligence and study, and coming after him +and building upon his foundations) might not probably, with all +these helps, surpass him; and whether it be any dishonour to Horace +to be thus surpassed, since no art or science is at once begun and +perfected but that it must pass first through many hands and even +through several ages. If Lucilius could add to Ennius and Horace to +Lucilius, why, without any diminution to the fame of Horace, might +not Juvenal give the last perfection to that work? Or rather, what +disreputation is it to Horace that Juvenal excels in the tragical +satire, as Horace does in the comical? I have read over attentively +both Heinsius and Dacier in their commendations of Horace, but I can +find no more in either of them for the preference of him to Juvenal +than the instructive part (the part of wisdom, and not that of +pleasure), which therefore is here allowed him, notwithstanding what +Scaliger and Rigaltius have pleaded to the contrary for Juvenal. +And to show I am impartial I will here translate what Dacier has +said on that subject:- + +"I cannot give a more just idea of the two books of satires made by +Horace than by comparing them to the statues of the Sileni, to which +Alcibiades compares Socrates in the Symposium. They were figures +which had nothing of agreeable, nothing of beauty on their outside; +but when any one took the pains to open them and search into them, +he there found the figures of all the deities. So in the shape that +Horace presents himself to us in his satires we see nothing at the +first view which deserves our attention; it seems that he is rather +an amusement for children than for the serious consideration of men. +But when we take away his crust, and that which hides him from our +sight, when we discover him to the bottom, then we find all the +divinities in a full assembly--that is to say, all the virtues which +ought to be the continual exercise of those who seriously endeavour +to correct their vices." + +It is easy to observe that Dacier, in this noble similitude, has +confined the praise of his author wholly to the instructive part the +commendation turns on this, and so does that which follows:- + +"In these two books of satire it is the business of Horace to +instruct us how to combat our vices, to regulate our passions, to +follow nature, to give bounds to our desires, to distinguish betwixt +truth and falsehood, and betwixt our conceptions of things and +things themselves; to come back from our prejudicate opinions, to +understand exactly the principles and motives of all our actions; +and to avoid the ridicule into which all men necessarily fall who +are intoxicated with those notions which they have received from +their masters, and which they obstinately retain without examining +whether or no they be founded on right reason. + +"In a word, he labours to render us happy in relation to ourselves; +agreeable and faithful to our friends; and discreet, serviceable, +and well-bred in relation to those with whom we are obliged to live +and to converse. To make his figures intelligible, to conduct his +readers through the labyrinth of some perplexed sentence or obscure +parenthesis, is no great matter; and, as Epictetus says, there is +nothing of beauty in all this, or what is worthy of a prudent man. +The principal business, and which is of most importance to us, is to +show the use, the reason, and the proof of his precepts. + +"They who endeavour not to correct themselves according to so exact +a model are just like the patients who have open before them a book +of admirable receipts for their diseases, and please themselves with +reading it without comprehending the nature of the remedies or how +to apply them to their cure." + +Let Horace go off with these encomiums, which he has so well +deserved. + +To conclude the contention betwixt our three poets I will use the +words of Virgil in his fifth AEneid, where AEneas proposes the +rewards of the foot-race to the three first who should reach the +goal:- + + +"Tres praemia primi . . . +Accipient, flauaque caput nectentur oliva." + + +Let these three ancients be preferred to all the moderns as first +arriving at the goal; let them all be crowned as victors with the +wreath that properly belongs to satire. But after that, with this +distinction amongst themselves:- + + +"Primus equum phaleris insignem victor habeto." + + +Let Juvenal ride first in triumph. + + +"Alter Amazoniam pharetram, plenamque sagittis +Threiciis, lato quam circumplectitur auro +Balteus, et tereti subnectit fibula gemma." + + +Let Horace, who is the second (and but just the second), carry off +the quiver and the arrows as the badges of his satire, and the +golden belt and the diamond button. + + +"Tertius Argolico hoc clypeo contentus abito." + + +And let Persius, the last of the first three worthies, be contented +with this Grecian shield, and with victory--not only over all the +Grecians, who were ignorant of the Roman satire--but over all the +moderns in succeeding ages, excepting Boileau and your lordship. + +And thus I have given the history of satire, and derived it as far +as from Ennius to your lordship--that is, from its first rudiments +of barbarity to its last polishing and perfection; which is, with +Virgil, in his address to Augustus - + + +"Nomen fama tot ferre per annos, . . . +Tithoni prima quot abest ab origine Caesar." + + +I said only from Ennius, but I may safely carry it higher, as far as +Livius Andronicus, who, as I have said formerly, taught the first +play at Rome in the year ab urbe condita CCCCCXIV. I have since +desired my learned friend Mr. Maidwell to compute the difference of +times betwixt Aristophanes and Livius Andronicus; and he assures me +from the best chronologers that Plutus, the last of Aristophanes' +plays, was represented at Athens in the year of the 97th Olympiad, +which agrees with the year urbis conditae CCCLXIV. So that the +difference of years betwixt Aristophanes and Andronicus is 150; from +whence I have probably deduced that Livius Andronicus, who was a +Grecian, had read the plays of the old comedy, which were satirical, +and also of the new; for Menander was fifty years before him, which +must needs be a great light to him in his own plays that were of the +satirical nature. That the Romans had farces before this, it is +true; but then they had no communication with Greece; so that +Andronicus was the first who wrote after the manner of the old +comedy, in his plays: he was imitated by Ennius about thirty years +afterwards. Though the former writ fables, the latter, speaking +properly, began the Roman satire, according to that description +which Juvenal gives of it in his first:- + + +"Quicquid agunt homines, votum, timor, ira voluptas, +Gaudia, discurses, nostri est farrago libelli." + + +This is that in which I have made hold to differ from Casaubon, +Rigaltius, Dacier, and indeed from all the modern critics--that not +Ennius, but Andronicus, was the first who, by the archaea comedia of +the Greeks, added many beauties to the first rude and barbarous +Roman satire; which sort of poem, though we had not derived from +Rome, yet nature teaches it mankind in all ages and in every +country. + +It is but necessary that, after so much has been said of satire, +some definition of it should be given. Heinsius, in his +Dissertations on Horace, makes it for me in these words:- "Satire is +a kind of poetry, without a series of action, invented for the +purging of our minds; in which human vices, ignorance, and errors, +and all things besides which are produced from them in every man, +are severely reprehended--partly dramatically, partly simply, and +sometimes in both kinds of speaking, but for the most part +figuratively and occultly; consisting, in a low familiar way, +chiefly in a sharp and pungent manner of speech, but partly also in +a facetious and civil way of jesting, by which either hatred or +laughter or indignation is moved." Where I cannot but observe that +this obscure and perplexed definition, or rather description of +satire, is wholly accommodated to the Horatian way, and excluding +the works of Juvenal and Persius as foreign from that kind of poem. +The clause in the beginning of it, "without a series of action," +distinguishes satire properly from stage-plays, which are all of one +action and one continued series of action. The end or scope of +satire is to purge the passions; so far it is common to the satires +of Juvenal and Persius. The rest which follows is also generally +belonging to all three, till he comes upon us with the excluding +clause, "consisting, in a low familiar way of speech" which is the +proper character of Horace, and from which the other two (for their +honour be it spoken) are far distant. But how come lowness of style +and the familiarity of words to be so much the propriety of satire +that without them a poet can be no more a satirist than without +risibility he can be a man? Is the fault of Horace to be made the +virtue and standing rule of this poem? Is the grande sophos of +Persius, and the sublimity of Juvenal, to be circumscribed with the +meanness of words and vulgarity of expression? If Horace refused +the pains of numbers and the loftiness of figures are they bound to +follow so ill a precedent? Let him walk afoot with his pad in his +hand for his own pleasure, but let not them be accounted no poets +who choose to mount and show their horsemanship. Holyday is not +afraid to say that there was never such a fall as from his odes to +his satires, and that he, injuriously to himself, untuned his harp. +The majestic way of Persius and Juvenal was new when they began it, +but it is old to us; and what poems have not, with time, received an +alteration in their fashion?--"which alteration," says Holyday, "is +to after-times as good a warrant as the first." Has not Virgil +changed the manners of Homer's heroes in his AEneis? Certainly he +has, and for the better; for Virgil's age was more civilised and +better bred, and he writ according to the politeness of Rome under +the reign of Augustus Caesar, not to the rudeness of Agamemnon's age +or the times of Homer. Why should we offer to confine free spirits +to one form when we cannot so much as confine our bodies to one +fashion of apparel? Would not Donne's satires, which abound with so +much wit, appear more charming if he had taken care of his words and +of his numbers? But he followed Horace so very close that of +necessity he must fall with him; and I may safely say it of this +present age, that if we are not so great wits as Donne, yet +certainly we are better poets. + +But I have said enough, and it may be too much, on this subject. +Will your lordship be pleased to prolong my audience only so far +till I tell you my own trivial thoughts how a modern satire should +be made? I will not deviate in the least from the precepts and +examples of the ancients, who were always our best masters; I will +only illustrate them, and discover some of the hidden beauties in +their designs, that we thereby may form our own in imitation of +them. Will you please but to observe that Persius, the least in +dignity of all the three, has, notwithstanding, been the first who +has discovered to us this important secret in the designing of a +perfect satire--that it ought only to treat of one subject; to be +confined to one particular theme, or, at least, to one principally? +If other vices occur in the management of the chief, they should +only be transiently lashed, and not be insisted on, so as to make +the design double. As in a play of the English fashion which we +call a tragicomedy, there is to be but one main design, and though +there be an under-plot or second walk of comical characters and +adventures, yet they are subservient to the chief fable, carried +along under it and helping to it, so that the drama may not seem a +monster with two heads. Thus the Copernican system of the planets +makes the moon to be moved by the motion of the earth, and carried +about her orb as a dependent of hers. Mascardi, in his discourse of +the "Doppia Favola," or double tale in plays, gives an instance of +it in the famous pastoral of Guarini, called Il Pastor Fido, where +Corisca and the Satyr are the under-parts; yet we may observe that +Corisca is brought into the body of the plot and made subservient to +it. It is certain that the divine wit of Horace was not ignorant of +this rule--that a play, though it consists of many parts, must yet +be one in the action, and must drive on the accomplishment of one +design--for he gives this very precept, Sit quod vis simplex +duntaxat, et unum; yet he seems not much to mind it in his satires, +many of them consisting of more arguments than one, and the second +without dependence on the first. Casaubon has observed this before +me in his preference of Persius to Horace, and will have his own +beloved author to be the first who found out and introduced this +method of confining himself to one subject. + +I know it may be urged in defence of Horace that this unity is not +necessary, because the very word satura signifies a dish plentifully +stored with all variety of fruits and grains. Yet Juvenal, who +calls his poems a farrago (which is a word of the same signification +with satura), has chosen to follow the same method of Persius and +not of Horace; and Boileau, whose example alone is a sufficient +authority, has wholly confined himself in all his satires to this +unity of design. That variety which is not to be found in any one +satire is at least in many, written on several occasions; and if +variety be of absolute necessity in every one of them, according to +the etymology of the word, yet it may arise naturally from one +subject, as it is diversely treated in the several subordinate +branches of it, all relating to the chief. It may be illustrated +accordingly with variety of examples in the subdivisions of it, and +with as many precepts as there are members of it, which all together +may complete that olla or hotch-potch which is properly a satire. + +Under this unity of theme or subject is comprehended another rule +for perfecting the design of true satire. The poet is bound, and +that ex officio, to give his reader some one precept of moral +virtue, and to caution him against some one particular vice or +folly. Other virtues, subordinate to the first, may be recommended +under that chief head, and other vices or follies may be scourged, +besides that which he principally intends; but he is chiefly to +inculcate one virtue, and insist on that. Thus Juvenal, in every +satire excepting the first, ties himself to one principal +instructive point, or to the shunning of moral evil. Even in the +sixth, which seems only an arraignment of the whole sex of +womankind, there is a latent admonition to avoid ill women, by +showing how very few who are virtuous and good are to be found +amongst them. But this, though the wittiest of all his satires, has +yet the least of truth or instruction in it; he has run himself into +his old declamatory way, and almost forgotten that he was now +setting up for a moral poet. + +Persius is never wanting to us in some profitable doctrine, and in +exposing the opposite vices to it. His kind of philosophy is one, +which is the Stoic, and every satire is a comment on one particular +dogma of that sect, unless we will except the first, which is +against bad writers; and yet even there he forgets not the precepts +of the "porch." In general, all virtues are everywhere to be +praised and recommended to practice, and all vices to be reprehended +and made either odious or ridiculous, or else there is a fundamental +error in the whole design. + +I have already declared who are the only persons that are the +adequate object of private satire, and who they are that may +properly be exposed by name for public examples of vices and +follies, and therefore I will trouble your lordship no further with +them. Of the best and finest manner of satire, I have said enough +in the comparison betwixt Juvenal and Horace; it is that sharp well- +mannered way of laughing a folly out of countenance, of which your +lordship is the best master in this age. I will proceed to the +versification which is most proper for it, and add somewhat to what +I have said already on that subject. The sort of verse which is +called "burlesque," consisting of eight syllables or four feet, is +that which our excellent Hudibras has chosen. I ought to have +mentioned him before when I spoke of Donne, but by a slip of an old +man's memory he was forgotten. The worth of his poem is too well +known to need my commendation, and he is above my censure. His +satire is of the Varronian kind, though unmixed with prose. The +choice of his numbers is suitable enough to his design as he has +managed it; but in any other hand the shortness of his verse, and +the quick returns of rhyme, had debased the dignity of style. And +besides, the double rhyme (a necessary companion of burlesque +writing) is not so proper for manly satire, for it turns earnest too +much to jest, and gives us a boyish kind of pleasure. It tickles +awkwardly, with a kind of pain to the best sort of readers; we are +pleased ungratefully, and, if I may say so, against our liking. We +thank him not for giving us that unseasonable delight, when we know +he could have given us a better and more solid. He might have left +that task to others who, not being able to put in thought, can only +makes us grin with the excrescence of a word of two or three +syllables in the close. It is, indeed, below so great a master to +make use of such a little instrument. But his good sense is +perpetually shining through all he writes; it affords us not the +time of finding faults: we pass through the levity of his rhyme, +and are immediately carried into some admirable useful thought. +After all, he has chosen this kind of verse, and has written the +best in it, and had he taken another he would always have excelled; +as we say of a court favourite, that whatsoever his office be, he +still makes it uppermost and most beneficial to himself. + +The quickness of your imagination, my lord, has already prevented +me; and you know beforehand that I would prefer the verse of ten +syllables, which we call the English heroic, to that of eight. This +is truly my opinion, for this sort of number is more roomy; the +thought can turn itself with greater ease in a larger compass. When +the rhyme comes too thick upon us, it straitens the expression; we +are thinking of the close when we should be employed in adorning the +thought. It makes a poet giddy with turning in a space too narrow +for his imagination; he loses many beauties without gaining one +advantage. For a burlesque rhyme I have already concluded to be +none; or, if it were, it is more easily purchased in ten syllables +than in eight. In both occasions it is as in a tennis-court, when +the strokes of greater force are given, when we strike out and play +at length. Tassoni and Boileau have left us the best examples of +this way in the "Seechia Rapita" and the "Lutrin," and next them +Merlin Cocaius in his "Baldus." I will speak only of the two +former, because the last is written in Latin verse. The "Secchia +Rapita" is an Italian poem, a satire of the Varronian kind. It is +written in the stanza of eight, which is their measure for heroic +verse. The words are stately, the numbers smooth; the turn both of +thoughts and words is happy. The first six lines of the stanza seem +majestical and severe, but the two last turn them all into a +pleasant ridicule. Boileau, if I am not much deceived, has modelled +from hence his famous "Lutrin." He had read the burlesque poetry of +Scarron with some kind of indignation, as witty as it was, and found +nothing in France that was worthy of his imitation; but he copied +the Italian so well that his own may pass for an original. He +writes it in the French heroic verse, and calls it an heroic poem; +his subject is trivial, but his verse is noble. I doubt not but he +had Virgil in his eye, for we find many admirable imitations of him, +and some parodies, as particularly this passage in the fourth of the +AEneids - + + +"Nec tibi diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor, +Perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens +Caucasus, Hyrrcanaeque admorunt ubera tigres:" + + +which he thus translates, keeping to the words, but altering the +sense:- + + +"Non, ton pere a Paris, ne fut point boulanger: +Et tu n'es point du sang de Gervais, l'horloger; +Ta mere ne fut point la maitresse d'un coche; +Caucase dans ses flancs te forma d'une roche; +Une tigresse affreuse, en quelque antre ecarte, +Te fit, avec son lait, succer sa cruaute." + + +And as Virgil in his fourth Georgic of the bees, perpetually raises +the lowness of his subject by the loftiness of his words, and +ennobles it by comparisons drawn from empires and from monarchs - + + +"Admiranda tibi levium spectacula rerum, +Magnanimosque duces, totiusque ordine gentis +Mores et studia, et populos, et praelia dicam;" + + +and again - + + +"At genus immortale manet, multosque per annos +Stat fortuna domus, et avi numerantur avorum;" + + +we see Boileau pursuing him in the same flights, and scarcely +yielding to his master. This I think, my lord, to be the most +beautiful and most noble kind of satire. Here is the majesty of the +heroic finely mixed with the venom of the other, and raising the +delight, which otherwise would be flat and vulgar, by the sublimity +of the expression. I could say somewhat more of the delicacy of +this and some other of his satires, but it might turn to his +prejudice if it were carried back to France. + +I have given your lordship but this bare hint--in what verse and in +what manner this sort of satire may be best managed. Had I time I +could enlarge on the beautiful turns of words and thoughts which are +as requisite in this as in heroic poetry itself, of which the satire +is undoubtedly a species. With these beautiful turns I confess +myself to have been unacquainted till about twenty years ago. In a +conversation which I had with that noble wit of Scotland, Sir George +Mackenzie, he asked me why I did not imitate in my verses the turns +of Mr. Waller and Sir John Denham, of which he repeated many to me. +I had often read with pleasure, and with some profit, those two +fathers of our English poetry, but had not seriously enough +considered those beauties which give the last perfection to their +works. Some sprinklings of this kind I had also formerly in my +plays; but they were casual, and not designed. But this hint, thus +seasonably given me, first made me sensible of my own wants, and +brought me afterwards to seek for the supply of them in other +English authors. I looked over the darling of my youth, the famous +Cowley; there I found, instead of them, the points of wit and quirks +of epigram, even in the "Davideis" (an heroic poem which is of an +opposite nature to those puerilities), but no elegant turns, either +on the word or on the thought. Then I consulted a greater genius +(without offence to the manes of that noble author)--I mean Milton; +but as he endeavours everywhere to express Homer, whose age had not +arrived to that fineness, I found in him a true sublimity, lofty +thoughts which were clothed with admirable Grecisms and ancient +words, which he had been digging from the minds of Chaucer and +Spenser, and which, with all their rusticity, had somewhat of +venerable in them. But I found not there neither that for which I +looked. At last I had recourse to his master, Spenser, the author +of that immortal poem called the "Faerie Queen," and there I met +with that which I had been looking for so long in vain. Spenser had +studied Virgil to as much advantage as Milton had done Homer, and +amongst the rest of his excellences had copied that. Looking +farther into the Italian, I found Tasso had done the same; nay, +more, that all the sonnets in that language are on the turn of the +first thought--which Mr. Walsh, in his late ingenious preface to his +poems, has observed. In short, Virgil and Ovid are the two +principal fountains of them in Latin poetry. And the French at this +day are so fond of them that they judge them to be the first +beauties; delicate, et bien tourne, are the highest commendations +which they bestow on somewhat which they think a masterpiece. + +An example of the turn of words, amongst a thousand others, is that +in the last book of Ovid's "Metamorphoses":- + + +"Heu! quantum scelus est, in viscera, viscera condi! +Congestoque avidum pinguescere corpore corpus; +Alteriusque animantem animantis vivere leto." + + +An example on the turn both of thoughts and words is to be found in +Catullus in the complaint of Ariadne when she was left by Theseus:- + + +"Tum jam nulla viro juranti faemina credat; +Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles; +Qui, dum aliquid cupiens animus praegestit apisci, +Nil metuunt jurare, nihil promittere parcunt: +Sed simul ac cupidae mentis satiata libido est, +Dicta nihil metuere, nihil perjuria curant." + + +An extraordinary turn upon the words is that in Ovid's "Epistolae +Heroidum" of Sappho to Phaon:- + + +"Si, nisi quae forma poterit te digna videri, +Nulla futura tua est, nulla futura tua est." + + +Lastly a turn, which I cannot say is absolutely on words--for the +thought turns with them--is in the fourth Georgic of Virgil, where +Orpheus is to receive his wife from hell on express condition not to +look on her till she was come on earth:- + + +"Cum subita incautum dementia cepit amantem; +Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere Manes." + + +I will not burthen your lordship with more of them, for I write to a +master who understands them better than myself; but I may safely +conclude them to be great beauties. I might descend also to the +mechanic beauties of heroic verse; but we have yet no English +Prosodia, not so much as a tolerable dictionary or a grammar (so +that our language is in a manner barbarous); and what Government +will encourage any one, or more, who are capable of refining it, I +know not: but nothing under a public expense can go through with +it. And I rather fear a declination of the language than hope an +advancement of it in the present age. + +I am still speaking to you, my lord, though in all probability you +are already out of hearing. Nothing which my meanness can produce +is worthy of this long attention. But I am come to the last +petition of Abraham: if there be ten righteous lines in this vast +preface, spare it for their sake; and also spare the next city, +because it is but a little one. + +I would excuse the performance of this translation if it were all my +own; but the better, though not the greater, part being the work of +some gentlemen who have succeeded very happily in their undertaking, +let their excellences atone for my imperfections and those of my +sons. I have perused some of the Satires which are done by other +hands, and they seem to me as perfect in their kind as anything I +have seen in English verse. The common way which we have taken is +not a literal translation, but a kind of paraphrase; or somewhat +which is yet more loose, betwixt a paraphrase and imitation. It was +not possible for us, or any men, to have made it pleasant any other +way. If rendering the exact sense of these authors, almost line for +line, had been our business, Barten Holyday had done it already to +our hands; and by the help of his learned notes and illustrations, +not only Juvenal and Persius, but, what yet is more obscure, his own +verses might be understood. + +But he wrote for fame, and wrote to scholars; we write only for the +pleasure and entertainment of those gentlemen and ladies who, though +they are not scholars, are not ignorant--persons of understanding +and good sense, who, not having been conversant in the original (or, +at least, not having made Latin verse so much their business as to +be critics in it), would be glad to find if the wit of our two great +authors be answerable to their fame and reputation in the world. We +have therefore endeavoured to give the public all the satisfaction +we are able in this kind. + +And if we are not altogether so faithful to our author as our +predecessors Holyday and Stapleton, yet we may challenge to +ourselves this praise--that we shall be far more pleasing to our +readers. We have followed our authors at greater distance, though +not step by step as they have done; for oftentimes they have gone so +close that they have trod on the heels of Juvenal and Persius, and +hurt them by their too near approach. A noble author would not be +pursued too close by a translator. We lose his spirit when we think +to take his body. The grosser part remains with us, but the soul is +flown away in some noble expression, or some delicate turn of words +or thought. Thus Holyday, who made this way his choice, seized the +meaning of Juvenal, but the poetry has always escaped him. + +They who will not grant me that pleasure is one of the ends of +poetry, but that it is only a means of compassing the only end +(which is instruction), must yet allow that without the means of +pleasure the instruction is but a bare and dry philosophy, a crude +preparation of morals which we may have from Aristotle and Epictetus +with more profit than from any poet. Neither Holyday nor Stapleton +have imitated Juvenal in the poetical part of him, his diction, and +his elocution. Nor, had they been poets (as neither of them were), +yet in the way they took, it was impossible for them to have +succeeded in the poetic part. + +The English verse which we call heroic consists of no more than ten +syllables; the Latin hexameter sometimes rises to seventeen; as, for +example, this verse in Virgil:- + + +"Pulverulenta putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum." + + +Here is the difference of no less than seven syllables in a line +betwixt the English and the Latin. Now the medium of these is about +fourteen syllables, because the dactyl is a more frequent foot in +hexameters than the spondee. But Holyday (without considering that +he writ with the disadvantage of four syllables less in every verse) +endeavours to make one of his lines to comprehend the sense of one +of Juvenal's. According to the falsity of the proposition was the +success. He was forced to crowd his verse with ill-sounding +monosyllables (of which our barbarous language affords him a wild +plenty), and by that means he arrived at his pedantic end, which was +to make a literal translation. His verses have nothing of verse in +them, but only the worst part of it--the rhyme; and that, into the +bargain, is far from good. But, which is more intolerable, by +cramming his ill-chosen and worse-sounding monosyllables so close +together, the very sense which he endeavours to explain is become +more obscure than that of his author; so that Holyday himself cannot +be understood without as large a commentary as that which he makes +on his two authors. For my own part, I can make a shift to find the +meaning of Juvenal without his notes, but his translation is more +difficult than his author. And I find beauties in the Latin to +recompense my pains; but in Holyday and Stapleton my ears, in the +first place, are mortally offended, and then their sense is so +perplexed that I return to the original as the more pleasing task as +well as the more easy. + +This must be said for our translation--that if we give not the whole +sense of Juvenal, yet we give the most considerable part of it; we +give it, in general, so clearly that few notes are sufficient to +make us intelligible. We make our author at least appear in a +poetic dress. We have actually made him more sounding and more +elegant than he was before in English, and have endeavoured to make +him speak that kind of English which he would have spoken had he +lived in England and had written to this age. If sometimes any of +us (and it is but seldom) make him express the customs and manners +of our native country rather than of Rome, it is either when there +was some kind of analogy betwixt their customs and ours, or when (to +make him more easy to vulgar understandings) we gave him those +manners which are familiar to us. But I defend not this innovation; +it is enough if I can excuse it. For (to speak sincerely) the +manners of nations and ages are not to be confounded; we should +either make them English or leave them Roman. If this can neither +be defended nor excused, let it be pardoned at least, because it is +acknowledged; and so much the more easily as being a fault which is +never committed without some pleasure to the reader. + +Thus, my lord, having troubled you with a tedious visit, the best +manners will be shown in the least ceremony. I will slip away while +your back is turned, and while you are otherwise employed; with +great confusion for having entertained you so long with this +discourse, and for having no other recompense to make you than the +worthy labours of my fellow-undertakers in this work, and the +thankful acknowledgments, prayers, and perpetual good wishes of, + +My Lord, +Your Lordship's +Most obliged, most humble, and +Most obedient servant, +JOHN DRYDEN. + + + +A DISCOURSE ON EPIC POETRY. +ADDRESSED TO THE MOST HONOURABLE +JOHN, LORD MARQUIS OF NORMANBY, +EARL OF MULGRAVE, ETC., AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER +OF THE GARTER. + + + +An heroic poem (truly such) is undoubtedly the greatest work which +the soul of man is capable to perform. The design of it is to form +the mind to heroic virtue by example; it is conveyed in verse that +it may delight while it instructs. The action of it is always one, +entire, and great. The least and most trivial episodes or under- +actions which are interwoven in it are parts either necessary or +convenient to carry on the main design--either so necessary that +without them the poem must be imperfect, or so convenient that no +others can be imagined more suitable to the place in which they are. +There is nothing to be left void in a firm building; even the +cavities ought not to be filled with rubbish which is of a +perishable kind--destructive to the strength--but with brick or +stone (though of less pieces, yet of the same nature), and fitted to +the crannies. Even the least portions of them must be of the epic +kind; all things must be grave, majestical, and sublime; nothing of +a foreign nature, like the trifling novels which Ariosto and others +have inserted in their poems, by which the reader is misled into +another sort of pleasure, opposite to that which is designed in an +epic poem. One raises the soul and hardens it to virtue; the other +softens it again and unbends it into vice. One conduces to the +poet's aim (the completing of his work), which he is driving on, +labouring, and hastening in every line; the other slackens his pace, +diverts him from his way, and locks him up like a knight-errant in +an enchanted castle when he should be pursuing his first adventure. +Statius (as Bossu has well observed) was ambitions of trying his +strength with his master, Virgil, as Virgil had before tried his +with Homer. The Grecian gave the two Romans an example in the games +which were celebrated at the funerals of Patroclus. Virgil imitated +the invention of Homer, but changed the sports. But both the Greek +and Latin poet took their occasions from the subject, though (to +confess the truth) they were both ornamental, or, at best, +convenient parts of it, rather than of necessity arising from it. +Statius (who through his whole poem is noted for want of conduct and +judgment), instead of staying, as he might have done, for the death +of Capaneus, Hippomedon, Tydeus, or some other of his Seven +Champions (who are heroes all alike), or more properly for the +tragical end of the two brothers whose exequies the next successor +had leisure to perform when the siege was raised, and in the +interval betwixt the poet's first action and his second, went out of +his way--as it were, on prepense malice--to commit a fault; for he +took his opportunity to kill a royal infant by the means of a +serpent (that author of all evil) to make way for those funeral +honours which he intended for him. Now if this innocent had been of +any relation to his Thebais, if he had either farthered or hindered +the taking of the town, the poet might have found some sorry excuse +at least for detaining the reader from the promised siege. On these +terms this Capaneus of a poet engaged his two immortal predecessors, +and his success was answerable to his enterprise. + +If this economy must be observed in the minutest parts of an epic +poem, which to a common reader seem to be detached from the body, +and almost independent of it, what soul, though sent into the world +with great advantages of nature, cultivated with the liberal arts +and sciences, conversant with histories of the dead, and enriched +with observations on the living, can be sufficient to inform the +whole body of so great a work? I touch here but transiently, +without any strict method, on some few of those many rules of +imitating nature which Aristotle drew from Homer's "Iliads" and +"Odysses," and which he fitted to the drama--furnishing himself also +with observations from the practice of the theatre when it +flourished under AEschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles (for the +original of the stage was from the epic poem). Narration, +doubtless, preceded acting, and gave laws to it. What at first was +told artfully was in process of time represented gracefully to the +sight and hearing. Those episodes of Homer which were proper for +the stage, the poets amplified each into an action. Out of his +limbs they formed their bodies; what he had contracted, they +enlarged; out of one Hercules were made infinity of pigmies, yet all +endued with human souls; for from him, their great creator, they +have each of them the divinae particulam aurae. They flowed from +him at first, and are at last resolved into him. Nor were they only +animated by him, but their measure and symmetry was owing to him. +His one, entire, and great action was copied by them, according to +the proportions of the drama. If he finished his orb within the +year, it sufficed to teach them that their action being less, and +being also less diversified with incidents, their orb, of +consequence, must be circumscribed in a less compass, which they +reduced within the limits either of a natural or an artificial day. +So that, as he taught them to amplify what he had shortened, by the +same rule applied the contrary way he taught them to shorten what he +had amplified. Tragedy is the miniature of human life; an epic poem +is the draft at length. Here, my lord, I must contract also, for +before I was aware I was almost running into a long digression to +prove that there is no such absolute necessity that the time of a +stage-action should so strictly be confined to twenty-four hours as +never to exceed them (for which Aristotle contends, and the Grecian +stage has practised). Some longer space on some occasions, I think, +may be allowed, especially for the English theatre, which requires +more variety of incidents than the French. Corneille himself, after +long practice, was inclined to think that the time allotted by the +ancients was too short to raise and finish a great action; and +better a mechanic rule were stretched or broken than a great beauty +were omitted. To raise, and afterwards to calm, the passions; to +purge the soul from pride by the examples of human miseries which +befall the greatest; in few words, to expel arrogance and introduce +compassion, are the great effects of tragedy--great, I must confess, +if they were altogether as true as they are pompous. But are habits +to be introduced at three hours' warning? Are radical diseases so +suddenly removed? A mountebank may promise such a cure, but a +skilful physician will not undertake it. An epic poem is not in so +much haste; it works leisurely: the changes which it makes are +slow, but the cure is likely to be more perfect. The effects of +tragedy, as I said, are too violent to be lasting. If it be +answered, that for this reason tragedies are often to be seen, and +the dose to be repeated, this is tacitly to confess that there is +more virtue in one heroic poem than in many tragedies. A man is +humbled one day, and his pride returns the next. Chemical medicines +are observed to relieve oftener than to cure; for it is the nature +of spirits to make swift impressions, but not deep. Galenical +decoctions, to which I may properly compare an epic poem, have more +of body in them; they work by their substance and their weight. + +It is one reason of Aristotle's to prove that tragedy is the more +noble, because it turns in a shorter compass--the whole action being +circumscribed within the space of four-and-twenty hours. He might +prove as well that a mushroom is to be preferred before a peach, +because it shoots up in the compass of a night. A chariot may be +driven round the pillar in less space than a large machine, because +the bulk is not so great. Is the moon a more noble planet than +Saturn, because she makes her revolution in less than thirty days, +and he in little less than thirty years? Both their orbs are in +proportion to their several magnitudes; and consequently the +quickness or slowness of their motion, and the time of their +circumvolutions, is no argument of the greater or less perfection. +And besides, what virtue is there in a tragedy which is not +contained in an epic poem, where pride is humbled, virtue rewarded, +and vice punished, and those more amply treated than the narrowness +of the drama can admit? The shining quality of an epic hero, his +magnanimity, his constancy, his patience, his piety, or whatever +characteristical virtue his poet gives him, raises first our +admiration; we are naturally prone to imitate what we admire, and +frequent acts produce a habit. If the hero's chief quality be +vicious--as, for example, the choler and obstinate desire of +vengeance in Achilles--yet the moral is instructive; and besides, we +are informed in the very proposition of the "Iliads" that this anger +was pernicious, that it brought a thousand ills on the Grecian camp. +The courage of Achilles is proposed to imitation, not his pride and +disobedience to his general; nor his brutal cruelty to his dead +enemy, nor the selling his body to his father. We abhor these +actions while we read them, and what we abhor we never imitate; the +poet only shows them, like rocks or quicksands to be shunned. + +By this example the critics have concluded that it is not necessary +the manners of the hero should be virtuous (they are poetically good +if they are of a piece); though where a character of perfect virtue +is set before us, it is more lovely; for there the whole hero is to +be imitated. This is the AEneas of our author; this is that idea of +perfection in an epic poem which painters and statuaries have only +in their minds, and which no hands are able to express. These are +the beauties of a God in a human body. When the picture of Achilles +is drawn in tragedy, he is taken with those warts and moles and hard +features by those who represent him on the stage, or he is no more +Achilles; for his creator, Homer, has so described him. Yet even +thus he appears a perfect hero, though an imperfect character of +virtue. Horace paints him after Homer, and delivers him to be +copied on the stage with all those imperfections. Therefore they +are either not faults in an heroic poem, or faults common to the +drama. + +After all, on the whole merits of the cause, it must be acknowledged +that the epic poem is more for the manners, and tragedy for the +passions. The passions, as I have said, are violent; and acute +distempers require medicines of a strong and speedy operation. Ill +habits of the mind are, like chronical diseases, to be corrected by +degrees, and cured by alteratives; wherein, though purges are +sometimes necessary, yet diet, good air, and moderate exercise have +the greatest part. The matter being thus stated, it will appear +that both sorts of poetry are of use for their proper ends. The +stage is more active, the epic poem works at greater leisure; yet is +active too when need requires, for dialogue is imitated by the drama +from the more active parts of it. One puts off a fit, like the +quinquina, and relieves us only for a time; the other roots out the +distemper, and gives a healthful habit. The sun enlightens and +cheers us, dispels fogs, and warms the ground with his daily beams; +but the corn is sowed, increases, is ripened, and is reaped for use +in process of time and in its proper season. + +I proceed from the greatness of the action to the dignity of the +actors--I mean, to the persons employed in both poems. There +likewise tragedy will be seen to borrow from the epopee; and that +which borrows is always of less dignity, because it has not of its +own. A subject, it is true, may lend to his sovereign; but the act +of borrowing makes the king inferior, because he wants and the +subject supplies. And suppose the persons of the drama wholly +fabulous, or of the poet's invention, yet heroic poetry gave him the +examples of that invention, because it was first, and Homer the +common father of the stage. I know not of any one advantage which +tragedy can boast above heroic poetry but that it is represented to +the view as well as read, and instructs in the closet as well as on +the theatre. This is an uncontended excellence, and a chief branch +of its prerogative; yet I may be allowed to say without partiality +that herein the actors share the poet's praise. Your lordship knows +some modern tragedies which are beautiful on the stage, and yet I am +confident you would not read them. Tryphon the stationer complains +they are seldom asked for in his shop. The poet who flourished in +the scene is damned in the ruelle; nay, more, he is not esteemed a +good poet by those who see and hear his extravagances with delight. +They are a sort of stately fustian and lofty childishness. Nothing +but nature can give a sincere pleasure; where that is not imitated, +it is grotesque painting; the fine woman ends in a fish's tail. + +I might also add that many things which not only please, but are +real beauties in the reading, would appear absurd upon the stage; +and those not only the speciosa miracula, as Horace calls them, of +transformations of Scylla, Antiphates, and the Laestrygons (which +cannot be represented even in operas), but the prowess of Achilles +or AEneas would appear ridiculous in our dwarf-heroes of the +theatre. We can believe they routed armies in Homer or in Virgil, +but ne Hercules contra duos in the drama. I forbear to instance in +many things which the stage cannot or ought not to represent; for I +have said already more than I intended on this subject, and should +fear it might be turned against me that I plead for the pre-eminence +of epic poetry because I have taken some pains in translating +Virgil, if this were the first time that I had delivered my opinion +in this dispute; but I have more than once already maintained the +rights of my two masters against their rivals of the scene, even +while I wrote tragedies myself and had no thoughts of this present +undertaking. I submit my opinion to your judgment, who are better +qualified than any man I know to decide this controversy. You come, +my lord, instructed in the cause, and needed not that I should open +it. Your "Essay of Poetry," which was published without a name, and +of which I was not honoured with the confidence, I read over and +over with much delight and as much instruction, and without +flattering you, or making myself more moral than I am, not without +some envy. I was loth to be informed how an epic poem should be +written, or how a tragedy should be contrived and managed, in better +verse and with more judgment than I could teach others. A native of +Parnassus, and bred up in the studies of its fundamental laws, may +receive new lights from his contemporaries, but it is a grudging +kind of praise which he gives his benefactors. He is more obliged +than he is willing to acknowledge; there is a tincture of malice in +his commendations: for where I own I am taught, I confess my want +of knowledge. A judge upon the bench may, out of good nature, or, +at least, interest, encourage the pleadings of a puny counsellor, +but he does not willingly commend his brother-serjeant at the bar, +especially when he controls his law, and exposes that ignorance +which is made sacred by his place. I gave the unknown author his +due commendation, I must confess; but who can answer for me, and for +the rest of the poets who heard me read the poem, whether we should +not have been better pleased to have seen our own names at the +bottom of the title-page? Perhaps we commended it the more that we +might seem to be above the censure. We are naturally displeased +with an unknown critic, as the ladies are with a lampooner, because +we are bitten in the dark, and know not where to fasten our revenge; +but great excellences will work their way through all sorts of +opposition. I applauded rather out of decency than affection; and +was ambitious, as some yet can witness, to be acquainted with a man +with whom I had the honour to converse, and that almost daily, for +so many years together. Heaven knows if I have heartily forgiven +you this deceit. You extorted a praise, which I should willingly +have given had I known you. Nothing had been more easy than to +commend a patron of a long standing. The world would join with me +if the encomiums were just, and if unjust would excuse a grateful +flatterer. But to come anonymous upon me, and force me to commend +you against my interest, was not altogether so fair, give me leave +to say, as it was politic; for by concealing your quality you might +clearly understand how your work succeeded, and that the general +approbation was given to your merit, not your titles. Thus, like +Apelles, you stood unseen behind your own Venus, and received the +praises of the passing multitude. The work was commended, not the +author; and, I doubt not, this was one of the most pleasing +adventures of your life. + +I have detained your lordship longer than I intended in this dispute +of preference betwixt the epic poem and the drama, and yet have not +formally answered any of the arguments which are brought by +Aristotle on the other side, and set in the fairest light by Dacier. +But I suppose without looking on the book, I may have touched on +some of the objections; for in this address to your lordship I +design not a treatise of heroic poetry, but write in a loose +epistolary way somewhat tending to that subject, after the example +of Horace in his first epistle of the second book to Augustus +Caesar, and of that to the Pisos, which we call his "Art of Poetry," +in both of which he observes no method that I can trace, whatever +Scaliger the father, or Heinsius may have seen, or rather think they +had seen. I have taken up, laid down, and resumed, as often as I +pleased, the same subject, and this loose proceeding I shall use +through all this prefatory dedication. Yet all this while I have +been sailing with some side-wind or other toward the point I +proposed in the beginning--the greatness and excellence of an heroic +poem, with some of the difficulties which attend that work. The +comparison therefore which I made betwixt the epopee and the tragedy +was not altogether a digression, for it is concluded on all hands +that they are both the masterpieces of human wit. + +In the meantime I may be bold to draw this corollary from what has +been already said--that the file of heroic poets is very short; all +are not such who have assumed that lofty title in ancient or modern +ages, or have been so esteemed by their partial and ignorant +admirers. + +There have been but one great "Ilias" and one "AEneis" in so many +ages; the next (but the next with a long interval betwixt) was the +"Jerusalem"--I mean, not so much in distance of time as in +excellence. After these three are entered, some Lord Chamberlain +should be appointed, some critic of authority should be set before +the door to keep out a crowd of little poets who press for +admission, and are not of quality. Maevius would be deafening your +lordship's ears with his + + +"Fortunam Priami cantabo, et nobile bellum." + + +Mere fustian (as Horace would tell you from behind, without pressing +forward), and more smoke than fire. Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto +would cry out, "Make room for the Italian poets, the descendants of +Virgil in a right line." Father Le Moine with his "Saint Louis," +and Scudery with his "Alaric" (for a godly king and a Gothic +conqueror); and Chapelain would take it ill that his "Maid" should +be refused a place with Helen and Lavinia. Spenser has a better +plea for his "Faerie Queen," had his action been finished, or had +been one; and Milton, if the devil had not been his hero instead of +Adam; if the giant had not foiled the knight, and driven him out of +his stronghold to wander through the world with his lady-errant; and +if there had not been more machining persons than human in his poem. +After these the rest of our English poets shall not be mentioned; I +have that honour for them which I ought to have; but if they are +worthies, they are not to be ranked amongst the three whom I have +named, and who are established in their reputation. + +Before I quitted the comparison betwixt epic poetry and tragedy I +should have acquainted my judge with one advantage of the former +over the latter, which I now casually remember out of the preface of +Segrais before his translation of the "AEneis," or out of Bossu--no +matter which: "The style of the heroic poem is, and ought to be, +more lofty than that of the drama." The critic is certainly in the +right, for the reason already urged--the work of tragedy is on the +passions, and in dialogue; both of them abhor strong metaphors, in +which the epopee delights. A poet cannot speak too plainly on the +stage, for volat irrevocabile verbum (the sense is lost if it be not +taken flying) but what we read alone we have leisure to digest. +There an author may beautify his sense by the boldness of his +expression, which if we understand not fully at the first we may +dwell upon it till we find the secret force and excellence. That +which cures the manners by alterative physic, as I said before, must +proceed by insensible degrees; but that which purges the passions +must do its business all at once, or wholly fail of its effect--at +least, in the present operation--and without repeated doses. We +must beat the iron while it is hot, but we may polish it at leisure. +Thus, my lord, you pay the fine of my forgetfulness,; and yet the +merits of both causes are where they were, and undecided, till you +declare whether it be more for the benefit of mankind to have their +manners in general corrected, or their pride and hard-heartedness +removed. + +I must now come closer to my present business, and not think of +making more invasive wars abroad, when, like Hannibal, I am called +back to the defence of my own country. Virgil is attacked by many +enemies; he has a whole confederacy against him; and I must +endeavour to defend him as well as I am able. But their principal +objections being against his moral, the duration or length of time +taken up in the action of the poem, and what they have to urge +against the manners of his hero, I shall omit the rest as mere +cavils of grammarians--at the worst but casual slips of a great +man's pen, or inconsiderable faults of an admirable poem, which the +author had not leisure to review before his death. Macrobius has +answered what the ancients could urge against him, and some things I +have lately read in Tannegui le Febvre, Valois, and another whom I +name not, which are scarce worth answering. They begin with the +moral of his poem, which I have elsewhere confessed, and still must +own, not to be so noble as that of Homer. But let both be fairly +stated, and without contradicting my first opinion I can show that +Virgil's was as useful to the Romans of his age as Homer's was to +the Grecians of his, in what time soever he may be supposed to have +lived and flourished. Homer's moral was to urge the necessity of +union, and of a good understanding betwixt confederate states and +princes engaged in a war with a mighty monarch; as also of +discipline in an army, and obedience in the several chiefs to the +supreme commander of the joint forces. To inculcate this, he sets +forth the ruinous effects of discord in the camp of those allies, +occasioned by the quarrel betwixt the general and one of the next in +office under him. Agamemnon gives the provocation, and Achilles +resents the injury. Both parties are faulty in the quarrel, and +accordingly they are both punished; the aggressor is forced to sue +for peace to his inferior on dishonourable conditions; the deserter +refuses the satisfaction offered, and his obstinacy costs him his +best friend. This works the natural effect of choler, and turns his +rage against him by whom he was last affronted, and most sensibly. +The greater anger expels the less, but his character is still +preserved. In the meantime the Grecian army receives loss on loss, +and is half destroyed by a pestilence into the bargain:- + + +"Quicquid delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi." + + +As the poet in the first part of the example had shown the bad +effects of discord, so after the reconcilement he gives the good +effects of unity; for Hector is slain, and then Troy must fall. By +this it is probable that Homer lived when the Median monarchy was +grown formidable to the Grecians, and that the joint endeavours of +his countrymen were little enough to preserve their common freedom +from an encroaching enemy. Such was his moral, which all critics +have allowed to be more noble than that of Virgil, though not +adapted to the times in which the Roman poet lived. Had Virgil +flourished in the age of Ennius and addressed to Scipio, he had +probably taken the same moral, or some other not unlike it; for then +the Romans were in as much danger from the Carthaginian commonwealth +as the Grecians were from the Assyrian or Median monarchy. But we +are to consider him as writing his poem in a time when the old form +of government was subverted, and a new one just established by +Octavius Caesar--in effect, by force of arms, but seemingly by the +consent of the Roman people. The commonwealth had received a deadly +wound in the former civil wars betwixt Marius and Sylla. The +commons, while the first prevailed, had almost shaken off the yoke +of the nobility; and Marius and Cinna (like the captains of the +mob), under the specious pretence of the public good and of doing +justice on the oppressors of their liberty, revenged themselves +without form of law on their private enemies. Sylla, in his turn, +proscribed the heads of the adverse party. He, too, had nothing but +liberty and reformation in his mouth; for the cause of religion is +but a modern motive to rebellion, invented by the Christian +priesthood refining on the heathen. Sylla, to be sure, meant no +more good to the Roman people than Marius before him, whatever he +declared; but sacrificed the lives and took the estates of all his +enemies to gratify those who brought him into power. Such was the +reformation of the government by both parties. The senate and the +commons were the two bases on which it stood, and the two champions +of either faction each destroyed the foundations of the other side; +so the fabric, of consequence, must fall betwixt them, and tyranny +must be built upon their ruins. THIS COMES OF ALTERING FUNDAMENTAL +LAWS AND CONSTITUTIONS; like him who, being in good health, lodged +himself in a physician's house, and was over-persuaded by his +landlord to take physic (of which be died) for the benefit of his +doctor. "Stavo ben," was written on his monument, "ma, per star +meglio, sto qui." + +After the death of those two usurpers the commonwealth seemed to +recover, and held up its head for a little time, but it was all the +while in a deep consumption, which is a flattering disease. Pompey, +Crassus, and Caesar had found the sweets of arbitrary power, and +each being a check to the other's growth, struck up a false +friendship amongst themselves and divided the government betwixt +them, which none of them was able to assume alone. These were the +public-spirited men of their age--that is, patriots for their own +interest. The commonwealth looked with a florid countenance in +their management; spread in bulk, and all the while was wasting in +the vitals. Not to trouble your lordship with the repetition of +what you know, after the death of Crassus Pompey found himself +outwitted by Caesar, broke with him, overpowered him in the senate, +and caused many unjust decrees to pass against him. Caesar thus +injured, and unable to resist the faction of the nobles which was +now uppermost (for he was a Marian), had recourse to arms, and his +cause was just against Pompey, but not against his country, whose +constitution ought to have been sacred to him, and never to have +been violated on the account of any private wrong. But he +prevailed, and Heaven declaring for him, he became a providential +monarch under the title of Perpetual Dictator. He being murdered by +his own son (whom I neither dare commend nor can justly blame, +though Dante in his "Inferno" has put him and Cassius, and Judas +Iscariot betwixt them, into the great devil's mouth), the +commonwealth popped up its head for the third time under Brutus and +Cassius, and then sank for ever. + +Thus the Roman people were grossly gulled twice or thrice over, and +as often enslaved, in one century, and under the same pretence of +reformation. At last the two battles of Philippi gave the decisive +stroke against liberty, and not long after the commonwealth was +turned into a monarchy by the conduct and good fortune of Augustus. +It is true that the despotic power could not have fallen into better +hands than those of the first and second Caesar. Your lordship well +knows what obligations Virgil had to the latter of them. He saw, +beside, that the commonwealth was lost without resource; the heads +of it destroyed; the senate, new moulded, grown degenerate, and +either bought off or thrusting their own necks into the yoke out of +fear of being forced. Yet I may safely affirm for our great author +(as men of good sense are generally honest) that he was still of +republican principles in heart. + + +"Secretosque pios; his dantem jura Catonem." + + +I think I need use no other argument to justify my opinion than that +of this one line taken from the eighth book of the AEneis. If he +had not well studied his patron's temper it might have ruined him +with another prince. But Augustus was not discontented (at least, +that we can find) that Cato was placed by his own poet in Elysium, +and there giving laws to the holy souls who deserved to be separated +from the vulgar sort of good spirits; for his conscience could not +but whisper to the arbitrary monarch that the kings of Rome were at +first elective, and governed not without a senate; that Romulus was +no hereditary prince, and though after his death he received divine +honours for the good he did on earth, yet he was but a god of their +own making; that the last Tarquin was expelled justly for overt acts +of tyranny and mal-administration (for such are the conditions of an +elective kingdom, and I meddle not with others, being, for my own +opinion, of Montange's principles--that an honest man ought to be +contented with that form of government, and with those fundamental +constitutions of it, which he received from his ancestors, and under +which himself was born, though at the same time he confessed freely +that if he could have chosen his place of birth it should have been +at Venice, which for many reasons I dislike, and am better pleased +to have been born an Englishman). + +But to return from my long rambling; I say that Virgil having +maturely weighed the condition of the times in which he lived; that +an entire liberty was not to be retrieved; that the present +settlement had the prospect of a long continuance in the same family +or those adopted into it; that he held his paternal estate from the +bounty of the conqueror, by whom he was likewise enriched, esteemed, +and cherished; that this conqueror, though of a bad kind, was the +very best of it; that the arts of peace flourished under him; that +all men might be happy if they would be quiet; that now he was in +possession of the whole, yet he shared a great part of his authority +with the senate; that he would be chosen into the ancient offices of +the commonwealth, and ruled by the power which he derived from them, +and prorogued his government from time to time, still, as it were, +threatening to dismiss himself from public cares, which he exercised +more for the common good than for any delight he took in greatness-- +these things, I say, being considered by the poet, he concluded it +to be the interest of his country to be so governed, to infuse an +awful respect into the people towards such a prince, by that respect +to confirm their obedience to him, and by that obedience to make +them happy. This was the moral of his divine poem; honest in the +poet, honourable to the emperor (whom he derives from a divine +extraction), and reflecting part of that honour on the Roman people +(whom he derives also from the Trojans), and not only profitable, +but necessary, to the present age, and likely to be such to their +posterity. That it was the received opinion that the Romans were +descended from the Trojans, and Julius Caesar from Iulus, the son of +AEneas, was enough for Virgil, though perhaps he thought not so +himself, or that AEneas ever was in Italy, which Bochartus +manifestly proves. And Homer (where he says that Jupiter hated the +house of Priam, and was resolved to transfer the kingdom to the +family of AEneas) yet mentions nothing of his leading a colony into +a foreign country and settling there. But that the Romans valued +themselves on their Trojan ancestry is so undoubted a truth that I +need not prove it. Even the seals which we have remaining of Julius +Caesar (which we know to be antique) have the star of Venus over +them--though they were all graven after his death--as a note that he +was deified. I doubt not but one reason why Augustus should be so +passionately concerned for the preservation of the "AEneis," which +its author had condemned to be burnt as an imperfect poem by his +last will and testament, was because it did him a real service as +well as an honour; that a work should not be lost where his divine +original was celebrated in verse which had the character of +immortality stamped upon it. + +Neither were the great Roman families which flourished in his time +less obliged by him than the emperor. Your lordship knows with what +address he makes mention of them as captains of ships or leaders in +the war; and even some of Italian extraction are not forgotten. +These are the single stars which are sprinkled through the "AEneis," +but there are whole constellations of them in the fifth book; and I +could not but take notice, when I translated it, of some favourite +families to which he gives the victory and awards the prizes, in the +person of his hero, at the funeral games which were celebrated in +honour of Anchises. I insist not on their names, but am pleased to +find the Memmii amongst them, derived from Mnestheus, because +Lucretius dedicates to one of that family, a branch of which +destroyed Corinth. I likewise either found or formed an image to +myself of the contrary kind--that those who lost the prizes were +such as had disobliged the poet, or were in disgrace with Augustus, +or enemies to Maecenas; and this was the poetical revenge he took, +for genus irritabile vatum, as Horace says. When a poet is +thoroughly provoked, he will do himself justice, how ever dear it +cost him, animamque in vulnere ponit. I think these are not bare +imaginations of my own, though I find no trace of them in the +commentators; but one poet may judge of another by himself. The +vengeance we defer is not forgotten. I hinted before that the whole +Roman people were obliged by Virgil in deriving them from Troy, an +ancestry which they affected. We and the French are of the same +humour: they would be thought to descend from a son, I think, of +Hector; and we would have our Britain both named and planted by a +descendant of AEneas. Spenser favours this opinion what he can. +His Prince Arthur, or whoever he intends by him, is a Trojan. Thus +the hero of Homer was a Grecian; of Virgil, a Roman; of Tasso, an +Italian. + +I have transgressed my bounds and gone farther than the moral led +me; but if your lordship is not tired, I am safe enough. + +Thus far, I think, my author is defended. But as Augustus is still +shadowed in the person of AEneas (of which I shall say more when I +come to the manners which the poet gives his hero), I must prepare +that subject by showing how dexterously he managed both the prince +and people, so as to displease neither, and to do good to both-- +which is the part of a wise and an honest man, and proves that it is +possible for a courtier not to be a knave. I shall continue still +to speak my thoughts like a free-born subject, as I am, though such +things perhaps as no Dutch commentator could, and I am sure no +Frenchman durst. I have already told your lordship my opinion of +Virgil--that he was no arbitrary man. Obliged he was to his master +for his bounty, and he repays him with good counsel how to behave +himself in his new monarchy so as to gain the affections of his +subjects, and deserve to be called the "Father of His Country." +From this consideration it is that he chose for the groundwork of +his poem one empire destroyed, and another raised from the ruins of +it. This was just the parallel. AEneas could not pretend to be +Priam's heir in a lineal succession, for Anchises, the hero's +father, was only of the second branch of the royal family, and +Helenus, a son of Priam, was yet surviving, and might lawfully claim +before him. It may be, Virgil mentions him on that account. +Neither has he forgotten Priamus, in the fifth of his "AEneis," the +son of Polites, youngest son to Priam, who was slain by Pyrrhus in +the second book. AEneas had only married Creusa, Priam's daughter, +and by her could have no title while any of the male issue were +remaining. In this case the poet gave him the next title, which is +that of an Elective King. The remaining Trojans chose him to lead +them forth and settle them in some foreign country. Ilioneus in his +speech to Dido calls him expressly by the name of king. Our poet, +who all this while had Augustus in his eye, had no desire he should +seem to succeed by any right of inheritance derived from Julius +Caesar, such a title being but one degree removed from conquest: +for what was introduced by force, by force may be removed. It was +better for the people that they should give than he should take, +since that gift was indeed no more at bottom than a trust. Virgil +gives us an example of this in the person of Mezentius. He governed +arbitrarily; he was expelled and came to the deserved end of all +tyrants. Our author shows us another sort of kingship in the person +of Latinus. He was descended from Saturn, and, as I remember, in +the third degree. He is described a just and a gracious prince, +solicitous for the welfare of his people, always consulting with his +senate to promote the common good. We find him at the head of them +when he enters into the council-hall--speaking first, but still +demanding their advice, and steering by it, as far as the iniquity +of the times would suffer him. And this is the proper character of +a king by inheritance, who is born a father of his country. AEneas, +though he married the heiress of the crown, yet claimed no title to +it during the life of his father-in-law. Socer arma Latinus hebeto, +&c., are Virgil's words. As for himself, he was contented to take +care of his country gods, who were not those of Latium; wherein our +divine author seems to relate to the after-practice of the Romans, +which was to adopt the gods of those they conquered or received as +members of their commonwealth. Yet, withal, he plainly touches at +the office of the high-priesthood, with which Augustus was invested +and which made his person more sacred and inviolable than even the +tribunitial power. It was not therefore for nothing that the most +judicious of all poets made that office vacant by the death of +Pantheus, in the second book of the "AEneis," for his hero to +succeed in it, and consequently for Augustus to enjoy. I know not +that any of the commentators have taken notice of that passage. If +they have not, I am sure they ought; and if they have, I am not +indebted to them for the observation. The words of Virgil are very +plain:- + + +"Sacra suosque tibi commendat Troja Penates." + + +As for Augustus or his uncle Julius claiming by descent from AEneas, +that title is already out of doors. AEneas succeeded not, but was +elected. Troy was fore-doomed to fall for ever:- + + +"Postquam res Asiae, Priamique evertere gentem, +Immeritam visum superis."--AENEIS, I. iii., line 1. + + +Augustus, it is true, had once resolved to rebuild that city, and +there to make the seat of the Empire; but Horace writes an ode on +purpose to deter him from that thought, declaring the place to be +accursed, and that the gods would as often destroy it as it should +be raised. Hereupon the emperor laid aside a project so ungrateful +to the Roman people. But by this, my lord, we may conclude that he +had still his pedigree in his head, and had an itch of being thought +a divine king if his poets had not given him better counsel. + +I will pass by many less material objections for want of room to +answer them. What follows next is of great importance, if the +critics can make out their charge, for it is levelled at the manners +which our poet gives his hero, and which are the same which were +eminently seen in his Augustus. Those manners were piety to the +gods and a dutiful affection to his father, love to his relations, +care of his people, courage and conduct in the wars, gratitude to +those who had obliged him, and justice in general to mankind. + +Piety, as your lordship sees, takes place of all as the chief part +of his character; and the word in Latin is more full than it can +possibly be expressed in any modern language, for there it +comprehends not only devotion to the gods, but filial love and +tender affection to relations of all sorts. As instances of this +the deities of Troy and his own Penates are made the companions of +his flight; they appear to him in his voyage and advise him, and at +last he replaces them in Italy, their native country. For his +father, he takes him on his back. He leads his little son, his wife +follows him; but losing his footsteps through fear or ignorance he +goes back into the midst of his enemies to find her, and leaves not +his pursuit till her ghost appears to forbid his farther search. I +will say nothing of his duty to his father while he lived, his +sorrow for his death, of the games instituted in honour of his +memory, or seeking him by his command even after death in the +Elysian fields. I will not mention his tenderness for his son, +which everywhere is visible; of his raising a tomb for Polydorus; +the obsequies for Misenus; his pious remembrance of Deiphobus; the +funerals of his nurse; his grief for Pallas, and his revenge taken +on his murderer, whom otherwise, by his natural compassion, he had +forgiven: and then the poem had been left imperfect, for we could +have had no certain prospect of his happiness while the last +obstacle to it was unremoved. + +Of the other parts which compose his character as a king or as a +general I need say nothing; the whole "AEneis" is one continued +instance of some one or other of them; and where I find anything of +them taxed, it shall suffice me (as briefly as I can) to vindicate +my divine master to your lordship, and by you to the reader. But +herein Segrais, in his admirable preface to his translation of the +"AEneis," as the author of the Dauphin's "Virgil" justly calls it, +has prevented me. Him I follow, and what I borrow from him am ready +to acknowledge to him, for, impartially speaking, the French are as +much better critics than the English as they are worse poets. Thus +we generally allow that they better understand the management of a +war than our islanders, but we know we are superior to them in the +day of battle; they value themselves on their generals, we on our +soldiers. But this is not the proper place to decide that question, +if they make it one. I shall say perhaps as much of other nations +and their poets (excepting only Tasso), and hope to make my +assertion good, which is but doing justice to my country--part of +which honour will reflect on your lordship, whose thoughts are +always just, your numbers harmonious, your words chosen, your +expressions strong and manly, your verse flowing, and your turns as +happy as they are easy. If you would set us more copies, your +example would make all precepts needless. In the meantime that +little you have written is owned, and that particularly by the poets +(who are a nation not over-lavish of praise to their +contemporaries), as a principal ornament of our language; but the +sweetest essences are always confined in the smallest glasses. + +When I speak of your lordship, it is never a digression, and +therefore I need beg no pardon for it, but take up Segrais where I +left him, and shall use him less often than I have occasion for him. +For his preface is a perfect piece of criticism, full and clear, and +digested into an exact method; mine is loose and, as I intended it, +epistolary. Yet I dwell on many things which he durst not touch, +for it is dangerous to offend an arbitrary master, and every patron +who has the power of Augustus has not his clemency. In short, my +lord, I would not translate him because I would bring you somewhat +of my own. His notes and observations on every book are of the same +excellency, and for the same reason I omit the greater part. + +He takes no notice that Virgil is arraigned for placing piety before +valour, and making that piety the chief character of his hero. I +have said already from Bossu, that a poet is not obliged to make his +hero a virtuous man; therefore neither Homer nor Tasso are to be +blamed for giving what predominant quality they pleased to their +first character. But Virgil, who designed to form a perfect prince, +and would insinuate that Augustus (whom he calls AEneas in his poem) +was truly such, found himself obliged to make him without blemish-- +thoroughly virtuous; and a thorough virtue both begins and ends in +piety. Tasso without question observed this before me, and +therefore split his hero in two; he gave Godfrey piety, and Rinaldo +fortitude, for their chief qualities or manners. Homer, who had +chosen another moral, makes both Agamemnon and Achilles vicious; for +his design was to instruct in virtue by showing the deformity of +vice. I avoid repetition of that I have said above. What follows +is translated literally from Segrais:- + +"Virgil had considered that the greatest virtues of Augustus +consisted in the perfect art of governing his people, which caused +him to reign for more than forty years in great felicity. He +considered that his emperor was valiant, civil, popular, eloquent, +politic, and religious; he has given all these qualities to AEneas. +But knowing that piety alone comprehends the whole duty of man +towards the gods, towards his country, and towards his relations, he +judged that this ought to be his first character whom he would set +for a pattern of perfection. In reality, they who believe that the +praises which arise from valour are superior to those which proceed +from any other virtues, have not considered, as they ought, that +valour, destitute of other virtues, cannot render a man worthy of +any true esteem. That quality, which signifies no more than an +intrepid courage, may he separated from many others which are good, +and accompanied with many which are ill. A man may be very valiant, +and yet impious and vicious; but the same cannot be said of piety, +which excludes all ill qualities, and comprehends even valour +itself, with all other qualities which are good. Can we, for +example, give the praise of valour to a man who should see his gods +profaned, and should want the courage to defend them? to a man who +should abandon his father, or desert his king, in his last +necessity?" + +Thus far Segrais, in giving the preference to piety before valour; I +will now follow him where he considers this valour or intrepid +courage singly in itself; and this also Virgil gives to his AEneas, +and that in a heroical degree. + +Having first concluded that our poet did for the best in taking the +first character of his hero from that essential virtue on which the +rest depend, he proceeds to tell us that in the ten years' war of +Troy he was considered as the second champion of his country, +allowing Hector the first place; and this even by the confession of +Homer, who took all occasions of setting up his own countrymen the +Grecians, and of undervaluing the Trojan chiefs. But Virgil (whom +Segrais forgot to cite) makes Diomede give him a higher character +for strength and courage. His testimony is this, in the eleventh +book:- + + +"Stetimus tela aspera contra, +Contulimusque manus: experto credite, quantus +In clypeum adsurgat, quo turbine torqueat hastam. +Si duo praeterea tales Inachias venisset ad urbes +Dardanus, et versis lugeret Graecia fatis. +Quicquid apud durae cessatum est maenia Trojae, +Hectoris AEneaeque manu victoria Grajum +Haesit, et in decumum vestigia retulit annum. +Ambo animis, ambo insignes praestantibus armis: +Hic pietate prior." + + +I give not here my translation of these verses, though I think I +have not ill succeeded in them, because your lordship is so great a +master of the original that I have no reason to desire you should +see Virgil and me so near together. But you may please, my lord, to +take notice that the Latin author refines upon the Greek, and +insinuates that Homer had done his hero wrong in giving the +advantage of the duel to his own countryman, though Diomedes was +manifestly the second champion of the Grecians; and Ulysses +preferred him before Ajax when he chose him for the companion of his +nightly expedition, for he had a headpiece of his own, and wanted +only the fortitude of another to bring him off with safety, and that +he might compass his design with honour. + +The French translator thus proceeds:- "They who accuse AEneas for +want of courage, either understand not Virgil or have read him +slightly; otherwise they would not raise an objection so easy to be +answered." Hereupon he gives so many instances of the hero's valour +that to repeat them after him would tire your lordship, and put me +to the unnecessary trouble of transcribing the greatest part of the +three last AEneids. In short, more could not be expected from an +Amadis, a Sir Lancelot, or the whole Round Table than he performs. +Proxima quaeque metit galdio is the perfect account of a knight- +errant. If it be replied, continues Segrais, that it was not +difficult for him to undertake and achieve such hardy enterprises +because he wore enchanted arms, that accusation in the first place +must fall on Homer ere it can reach Virgil. Achilles was as well +provided with them as AEneas, though he was invulnerable without +them; and Ariosto, the two Tassos (Bernardo and Torquato), even our +own Spenser--in a word, all modern poets--have copied Homer, as well +as Virgil; he is neither the first nor last, but in the midst of +them, and therefore is safe if they are so. Who knows, says +Segrais, but that his fated armour was only an allegorical defence, +and signified no more than that he was under the peculiar protection +of the gods? born, as the astrologers will tell us out of Virgil +(who was well versed in the Chaldean mysteries), under the +favourable influence of Jupiter, Venus, and the Sun? But I insist +not on this because I know you believe not there is such an art; +though not only Horace and Persius, but Augustus himself, thought +otherwise. But in defence of Virgil, I dare positively say that he +has been more cautious in this particular than either his +predecessor or his descendants; for AEneas was actually wounded in +the twelfth of the "AEneis," though he had the same godsmith to +forge his arms as had Achilles. It seems he was no "war-luck," as +the Scots commonly call such men, who, they say, are iron-free or +lead-free. Yet after this experiment that his arms were not +impenetrable (when he was cured indeed by his mother's help, because +he was that day to conclude the war by the death of Turnus), the +poet durst not carry the miracle too far and restore him wholly to +his former vigour; he was still too weak to overtake his enemy, yet +we see with what courage he attacks Turnus when he faces and renews +the combat. I need say no more, for Virgil defends himself without +needing my assistance, and proves his hero truly to deserve that +name. He was not, then, a second-rate champion, as they would have +him who think fortitude the first virtue in a hero. + +But being beaten from this hold, they will not yet allow him to be +valiant, because he wept more often, as they think, than well +becomes a man of courage. + +In the first place, if tears are arguments of cowardice, what shall +I say of Homer's hero? Shall Achilles pass for timorous because he +wept, and wept on less occasions than AEneas? Herein Virgil must be +granted to have excelled his master; for once both heroes are +described lamenting their lost loves: Briseis was taken away by +force from the Grecians, Creusa was lost for ever to her husband. +But Achilles went roaring along the salt sea-shore, and, like a +booby, was complaining to his mother when he should have revenged +his injury by arms: AEneas took a nobler course; for, having +secured his father and his son, he repeated all his former dangers +to have found his wife, if she had been above ground. And here your +lordship may observe the address of Virgil; it was not for nothing +that this passage was related, with all these tender circumstances. +AEneas told it, Dido heard it. That he had been so affectionate a +husband was no ill argument to the coming dowager that he might +prove as kind to her. Virgil has a thousand secret beauties, though +I have not leisure to remark them. + +Segrais, on this subject of a hero's shedding tears, observes that +historians commend Alexander for weeping when he read the mighty +actions of Achilles; and Julius Caesar is likewise praised when out +of the same noble envy, he wept at the victories of Alexander. But +if we observe more closely, we shall find that the tears of AEneas +were always on a laudable occasion. Thus he weeps out of compassion +and tenderness of nature when in the temple of Carthage he beholds +the pictures of his friends who sacrificed their lives in defence of +their country. He deplores the lamentable end of his pilot +Palinurus, the untimely death of young Pallas his confederate, and +the rest which I omit. Yet even for these tears his wretched +critics dare condemn him; they make AEneas little better than a kind +of St. Swithin hero, always raining. One of these censors was bold +enough to argue him of cowardice, when in the beginning of the first +book he not only weeps, but trembles, at an approaching storm:- + + +"Extemplo AEneae solvuntur frigore membra: +Ingemit, et duplices tendens ad sidera palmas," &c. + + +But to this I have answered formerly that his fear was not for +himself, but for his people. And who can give a sovereign a better +commendation, or recommend a hero more to the affection of the +reader? They were threatened with a tempest, and he wept; he was +promised Italy, and therefore he prayed for the accomplishment of +that promise;--all this in the beginning of a storm; therefore he +showed the more early piety and the quicker sense of compassion. +Thus much I have urged elsewhere in the defence of Virgil: and +since, I have been informed by Mr. Moyle, a young gentleman whom I +can never sufficiently commend, that the ancients accounted drowning +an accursed death. So that if we grant him to have been afraid, he +had just occasion for that fear, both in relation to himself and to +his subjects. I think our adversaries can carry this argument no +farther, unless they tell us that he ought to have had more +confidence in the promise of the gods. But how was he assured that +he had understood their oracles aright? Helenus might be mistaken; +Phoebus might speak doubtfully; even his mother might flatter him +that he might prosecute his voyage, which if it succeeded happily he +should be the founder of an empire: for that she herself was +doubtful of his fortune is apparent by the address she made to +Jupiter on his behalf; to which the god makes answer in these +words:- + + +"Parce metu, Cytherea, manent immota tuorum +Fata tibi," &c. + + +Notwithstanding which the goddess, though comforted, was not +assured; for even after this, through the course of the whole +"AEneis," she still apprehends the interest which Juno might make +with Jupiter against her son. For it was a moot point in heaven +whether he could alter fate or not; and indeed some passages in +Virgil would make us suspect that he was of opinion Jupiter might +defer fate, though he could not alter it; for in the latter end of +the tenth book he introduces Juno begging for the life of Turnus, +and flattering her husband with the power of changing destiny, tua, +qui potes, orsa reflectas! To which he graciously answers-- + + +"Si mora praesentis leti, tempusque caduco +Oratur juveni, meque hoc ita ponere sentis, +Tolle fuga Turnum, atquc instantibus eripe fatis. +Hactenus indulsisse vacat. Sin altior istis +Sub precibus venia ulla latet, totumque moveri +Mutarive putas bellum, spes pascis inanis." + + +But that he could not alter those decrees the king of gods himself +confesses in the book above cited, when he comforts Hercules for the +death of Pallas, who had invoked his aid before he threw his lance +at Turnus:- + + +"Trojae sub maenibus altis +Tot nati cecidere deum; quin occidit una +Sarpedon, mea progenies; etiam sua Turnum +Fata vocant, metasque dati pervenit ad aevi." + + +Where he plainly acknowledges that he could not save his own son, or +prevent the death which he foresaw. Of his power to defer the blow, +I once occasionally discoursed with that excellent person Sir Robert +Howard, who is better conversant than any man that I know in the +doctrine of the Stoics, and he set me right, from the concurrent +testimony of philosophers and poets, that Jupiter could not retard +the effects of fate, even for a moment; for when I cited Virgil as +favouring the contrary opinion in that verse - + + +"Tolle fuga Turnum, atque instantibus eripe fatis" - + + +he replied, and I think with exact judgment, that when Jupiter gave +Juno leave to withdraw Turnus from the present danger, it was +because he certainly foreknew that his fatal hour was not come, that +it was in destiny for Juno at that time to save him, and that +himself obeyed destiny in giving her that leave. + +I need say no more in justification of our hero's courage, and am +much deceived if he ever be attacked on this side of his character +again. But he is arraigned with more show of reason by the ladies, +who will make a numerous party against him, for being false to love +in forsaking Dido; and I cannot much blame them, for, to say the +truth, it is an ill precedent for their gallants to follow. Yet if +I can bring him off with flying colours, they may learn experience +at her cost; and for her sake avoid a cave as the worse shelter they +can choose from a shower of rain, especially when they have a lover +in their company. + +In the first place, Segrais observes with much acuteness that they +who blame AEneas for his insensibility of love when he left +Carthage, contradict their former accusation of him for being always +crying, compassionate, and effeminately sensible of those +misfortunes which befell others. They give him two contrary +characters; but Virgil makes him of a piece, always grateful, always +tender-hearted. But they are impudent enough to discharge +themselves of this blunder by haying the contradiction at Virgil's +door. He, they say, has shown his hero with these inconsistent +characters--acknowledging and ungrateful, compassionate and hard- +hearted, but at the bottom fickle and self-interested; for Dido had +not only received his weather-beaten troops before she saw him, and +given them her protection, but had also offered them an equal share +in her dominion:- + + +"Vultis et his mecum pariter considere regnis? +Urbem quam statuo, vesra est." + + +This was an obligement never to be forgotten, and the more to be +considered because antecedent to her love. That passion, it is +true, produced the usual effects of generosity, gallantry, and care +to please, and thither we refer them; but when she had made all +these advances, it was still in his power to have refused them. +After the intrigue of the cave--call it marriage, or enjoyment only- +-he was no longer free to take or leave; he had accepted the favour, +and was obliged to be constant, if he would be grateful. + +My lord, I have set this argument in the best light I can, that the +ladies may not think I write booty; and perhaps it may happen to me, +as it did to Doctor Cudworth, who has raised such strong objections +against the being of a God and Providence, that many think he has +not answered them. You may please at least to hear the adverse +party. Segrais pleads for Virgil that no less than an absolute +command from Jupiter could excuse this insensibility of the hero, +and this abrupt departure, which looks so like extreme ingratitude; +but at the same time he does wisely to remember you that Virgil had +made piety the first character of AEneas; and this being allowed, as +I am afraid it must, he was obliged, antecedent to all other +considerations, to search an asylum for his gods in Italy--for those +very gods, I say, who had promised to his race the universal empire. +Could a pious man dispense with the commands of Jupiter to satisfy +his passion, or--take it in the strongest sense--to comply with the +obligations of his gratitude? Religion, it is true, must have moral +honesty for its groundwork, or we shall be apt to suspect its truth; +but an immediate revelation dispenses with all duties of morality. +All casuists agree that theft is a breach of the moral law; yet if I +might presume to mingle things sacred with profane, the Israelites +only spoiled the Egyptians, not robbed them, because the propriety +was transferred by a revelation to their lawgiver. I confess Dido +was a very infidel in this point; for she would not believe, as +Virgil makes her say, that ever Jupiter would send Mercury on such +an immoral errand. But this needs no answer--at least, no more than +Virgil gives it:- + + +"Fata obstant, placidasque viri Deus obstruit aures." + + +This notwithstanding, as Segrais confesses, he might have shown a +little more sensibility when he left her, for that had been +according to his character. + +But let Virgil answer for himself. He still loved her, and +struggled with his inclinations to obey the gods:- + + +"Curam sub corde premebat, +Multa gemens, magnoque animum labefactus amore." + + +Upon the whole matter, and humanly speaking, I doubt there was a +fault somewhere, and Jupiter is better able to bear the blame than +either Virgil or AEneas. The poet, it seems, had found it out, and +therefore brings the deserting hero and the forsaken lady to meet +together in the lower regions, where he excuses himself when it is +too late, and accordingly she will take no satisfaction, nor so much +as hear him. Now Segrais is forced to abandon his defence, and +excuses his author by saying that the "AEneis" is an imperfect work, +and that death prevented the divine poet from reviewing it, and for +that reason he had condemned it to the fire, though at the same time +his two translators must acknowledge that the sixth book is the most +correct of the whole "AEneis." Oh, how convenient is a machine +sometimes in a heroic poem! This of Mercury is plainly one; and +Virgil was constrained to use it here, or the honesty of his hero +would be ill defended; and the fair sex, however, if they had the +deserter in their power, would certainly have shown him no more +mercy than the Bacchanals did Orpheus: for if too much constancy +may be a fault sometimes, then want of constancy, and ingratitude +after the last favour, is a crime that never will be forgiven. But +of machines, more in their proper place, where I shall show with how +much judgment they have been used by Virgil; and in the meantime +pass to another article of his defence on the present subject, +where, if I cannot clear the hero, I hope at least to bring off the +poet, for here I must divide their causes. Let AEneas trust to his +machine, which will only help to break his fall; but the address is +incomparable. Plato, who borrowed so much from Homer, and yet +concluded for the banishment of all poets, would at least have +rewarded Virgil before he sent him into exile; but I go farther, and +say that he ought to be acquitted, and deserved, beside, the bounty +of Augustus and the gratitude of the Roman people. If after this +the ladies will stand out, let them remember that the jury is not +all agreed; for Octavia was of his party, and was of the first +quality in Rome: she was also present at the reading of the sixth +AEneid, and we know not that she condemned AEneas, but we are sure +she presented the poet for his admirable elegy on her son Marcellus. + +But let us consider the secret reasons which Virgil had for thus +framing this noble episode, wherein the whole passion of love is +more exactly described than in any other poet. Love was the theme +of his fourth book; and though it is the shortest of the whole +"AEneis," yet there he has given its beginning, its progress, its +traverses, and its conclusion; and had exhausted so entirely this +subject that he could resume it but very slightly in the eight +ensuing books. + +She was warmed with the graceful appearance of the hero; she +smothered those sparkles out of decency, but conversation blew them +up into a flame. Then she was forced to make a confidante of her +whom she best might trust, her own sister, who approves the passion, +and thereby augments it; then succeeds her public owning it; and +after that the consummation. Of Venus and Juno, Jupiter and +Mercury, I say nothing (for they were all machining work); but +possession having cooled his love, as it increased hers, she soon +perceived the change, or at least grew suspicious of a change. This +suspicion soon turned to jealousy, and jealousy to rage; then she +disdains and threatens, and again is humble and entreats: and, +nothing availing, despairs, curses, and at last becomes her own +executioner. See here the whole process of that passion, to which +nothing can be added. I dare go no farther, lest I should lose the +connection of my discourse. + +To love our native country, and to study its benefit and its glory; +to be interested in its concerns, is natural to all men, and is +indeed our common duty. A poet makes a farther step for +endeavouring to do honour to it. It is allowable in him even to be +partial in its cause; for he is not tied to truth, or fettered by +the laws of history. Homer and Tasso are justly praised for +choosing their heroes out of Greece and Italy; Virgil, indeed, made +his a Trojan, but it was to derive the Romans and his own Augustus +from him; but all the three poets are manifestly partial to their +heroes in favour of their country. For Dares Phrygius reports of +Hector that he was slain cowardly; AEneas, according to the best +account, slew not Mezentius, but was slain by him; and the +chronicles of Italy tell us little of that Rinaldo d'Este who +conquers Jerusalem in Tasso. He might be a champion of the Church, +but we know not that he was so much as present at the siege. To +apply this to Virgil, he thought himself engaged in honour to +espouse the cause and quarrel of his country against Carthage. He +knew he could not please the Romans better, or oblige them more to +patronise his poem, than by disgracing the foundress of that city. +He shows her ungrateful to the memory of her first husband, doting +on a stranger, enjoyed and afterwards forsaken by him. This was the +original, says he, of the immortal hatred betwixt the two rival +nations. It is true, he colours the falsehood of AEneas by an +express command from Jupiter to forsake the queen who had obliged +him; but he knew the Romans were to be his readers, and them he +bribed--perhaps at the expense of his hero's honesty; but he gained +his cause, however, as pleading before corrupt judges. They were +content to see their founder false to love, for still he had the +advantage of the amour. It was their enemy whom he forsook, and she +might have forsaken him if he had not got the start of her. She had +already forgotten her vows to her Sichaeus, and varium et nutabile +semper femina is the sharpest satire in the fewest words that ever +was made on womankind; for both the adjectives are neuter, and +animal must be understood to make them grammar. Virgil does well to +put those words into the mouth of Mercury. If a god had not spoken +them, neither durst he have written them, nor I translated them. +Yet the deity was forced to come twice on the same errand; and the +second time, as much a hero as AEneas was, he frighted him. It +seems he feared not Jupiter so much as Dido; for your lordship may +observe that, as much intent as he was upon his voyage, yet he still +delayed it, till the messenger was obliged to tell him plainly that +if he weighed not anchor in the night the queen would be with him in +the morning, notumque furens quid femina possit: she was injured, +she was revengeful, she was powerful. The poet had likewise before +hinted that the people were naturally perfidious, for he gives their +character in the queen, and makes a proverb of Punica fides many +ages before it was invented. + +Thus I hope, my lord, that I have made good my promise, and +justified the poet, whatever becomes of the false knight. And, +sure, a poet is as much privileged to lie as an ambassador for the +honour and interest of his country--at least, as Sir Henry Wotton +has defined. + +This naturally leads me to the defence of the famous anachronism in +making AEneas and Dido contemporaries, for it is certain that the +hero lived almost two hundred years before the building of Carthage. +One who imitates Boccalini says that Virgil was accused before +Apollo for this error. The god soon found that he was not able to +defend his favourite by reason, for the case was clear; he therefore +gave this middle sentence: that anything might be allowed to his +son Virgil on the account of his other merits; that, being a +monarch, he had a dispensing power, and pardoned him. But that this +special act of grace might never be drawn into example, or pleaded +by his puny successors in justification of their ignorance, he +decreed for the future--no poet should presume to make a lady die +for love two hundred years before her birth. To moralise this +story, Virgil is the Apollo who has this dispensing power. His +great judgment made the laws of poetry, but he never made himself a +slave to them; chronology at best is but a cobweb law, and he broke +through it with his weight. They who will imitate him wisely must +choose, as he did, an obscure and a remote era, where they may +invent at pleasure, and not be easily contradicted. Neither he nor +the Romans had ever read the Bible, by which only his false +computation of times can be made out against him. This Segrais says +in his defence, and proves it from his learned friend Bochartus, +whose letter on this subject he has printed at the end of the fourth +AEneid, to which I refer your lordship and the reader. Yet the +credit of Virgil was so great that he made this fable of his own +invention pass for an authentic history, or at least as credible as +anything in Homer. Ovid takes it up after him even in the same age, +and makes an ancient heroine of Virgil's new-created Dido; dictates +a letter for her, just before her death, to the ingrateful fugitive; +and, very unluckily for himself, is for measuring a sword with a man +so much superior in force to him on the same subject. I think I may +be judge of this, because I have translated both. The famous author +of "The Art of Love" has nothing of his own; he borrows all from a +greater master in his own profession, and, which is worse, improves +nothing which he finds. Nature fails him; and, being forced to his +old shift, he has recourse to witticism. This passes, indeed, with +his soft admirers, and gives him the preference to Virgil in their +esteem; but let them like for themselves, and not prescribe to +others, for our author needs not their admiration. + +The motive that induced Virgil to coin this fable I have showed +already, and have also begun to show that he might make this +anachronism, by superseding the mechanic rules of poetry, for the +same reason that a monarch may dispense with or suspend his own laws +when he finds it necessary so to do, especially if those laws are +not altogether fundamental. Nothing is to be called a fault in +poetry, says Aristotle, but what is against the art; therefore a man +may be an admirable poet without being an exact chronologer. Shall +we dare, continues Segrais, to condemn Virgil for having made a +fiction against the order of time, when we commend Ovid and other +poets who have made many of their fictions against the order of +nature? For what else are the splendid miracles of the +"Metamorphoses?" Yet these are beautiful as they are related, and +have also deep learning and instructive mythologies couched under +them. But to give, as Virgil does in this episode, the original +cause of the long wars betwixt Rome and Carthage; to draw truth out +of fiction after so probable a manner, with so much beauty, and so +much for the honour of his country, was proper only to the divine +wit of Maro; and Tasso, in one of his discourses, admires him for +this particularly. It is not lawful indeed to contradict a point of +history which is known to all the world--as, for example, to make +Hannibal and Scipio contemporaries with Alexander--but in the dark +recesses of antiquity a great poet may and ought to feign such +things as he finds not there, if they can be brought to embellish +that subject which he treats. On the other side, the pains and +diligence of ill poets is but thrown away when they want the genius +to invent and feign agreeably. But if the fictions be delightful +(which they always are if they be natural) if they be of a piece; if +the beginning, the middle, and the end be in their due places, and +artfully united to each other, such works can never fail of their +deserved success. And such is Virgil's episode of Dido and AEneas, +where the sourest critic must acknowledge that if he had deprived +his "AEneis" of so great an ornament, because he found no traces of +it in antiquity, he had avoided their unjust censure, but had wanted +one of the greatest beauties of his poem. + +I shall say more of this in the next article of their charge against +him, which is--want of invention. In the meantime I may affirm, in +honour of this episode, that it is not only now esteemed the most +pleasing entertainment of the "AEneis," but was so accounted in his +own age, and before it was mellowed into that reputation which time +has given it; for which I need produce no other testimony than that +of Ovid, his contemporary:- + + +"Nec pars ulla magis legitur de corpore toto, +Quam non legitimo faedere junctus amor." + + +Where, by the way, you may observe, my lord, that Ovid in those +words, non legitimo faedere junctus amor, will by no means allow it +to be a lawful marriage betwixt Dido and AEneas. He was in +banishment when he wrote those verses, which I cite from his letter +to Augustus. "You, sir," saith he, "have sent me into exile for +writing my 'Art of Love' and my wanton elegies; yet your own poet +was happy in your good graces, though he brought Dido and AEneas +into a cave, and left them there not over-honestly together: may I +be so bold to ask your majesty is it a greater fault to teach the +art of unlawful love than to show it in the action?" But was Ovid +the court-poet so bad a courtier as to find no other plea to excuse +himself than by a plain accusation of his master? Virgil confessed +it was a lawful marriage betwixt the lovers; that Juno, the goddess +of matrimony, had ratified it by her presence (for it was her +business to bring matters to that issue): that the ceremonies were +short we may believe, for Dido was not only amorous, but a widow. +Mercury himself, though employed on a quite contrary errand, yet +owns it a marriage by an innuendo--pulchramque uxorius urbem +extruis. He calls AEneas not only a husband, but upbraids him for +being a fond husband, as the word uxorius implies. Now mark a +little, if your lordship pleases, why Virgil is so much concerned to +make this marriage (for he seems to be the father of the bride +himself, and to give her to the bridegroom); it was to make way for +the divorce which he intended afterwards, for he was a finer +flatterer than Ovid, and I more than conjecture that he had in his +eye the divorce which not long before had passed betwixt the emperor +and Scribonia. He drew this dimple in the cheek of AEneas to prove +Augustus of the same family by so remarkable a feature in the same +place. Thus, as we say in our home-spun English proverb, he killed +two birds with one stone--pleased the emperor by giving him the +resemblance of his ancestor, and gave him such a resemblance as was +not scandalous in that age (for to leave one wife and take another +was but a matter of gallantry at that time of day among the Romans). +Neque haec in faedera veni is the very excuse which AEneas makes +when he leaves his lady. "I made no such bargain with you at our +marriage to live always drudging on at Carthage; my business was +Italy, and I never made a secret of it. If I took my pleasure, had +not you your share of it? I leave you free at my departure to +comfort yourself with the next stranger who happens to be +shipwrecked on your coast; be as kind an hostess as you have been to +me, and you can never fail of another husband. In the meantime I +call the gods to witness that I leave your shore unwillingly; for +though Juno made the marriage, yet Jupiter commands me to forsake +you." This is the effect of what he saith when it is dishonoured +out of Latin verse into English prose. If the poet argued not +aright, we must pardon him for a poor blind heathen, who knew no +better morals. + +I have detained your lordship longer than I intended on this +objection, which would indeed weigh something in a Spiritual Court;- +-but I am not to defend our poet there. The next, I think, is but a +cavil, though the cry is great against him, and hath continued from +the time of Macrobius to this present age; I hinted it before. They +lay no less than want of invention to his charge--a capital charge, +I must acknowledge; for a poet is a maker, as the word signifies; +and who cannot make--that is, invent--hath his name for nothing. +That which makes this accusation look so strong at the first sight +is that he has borrowed so many things from Homer, Apollonius +Rhodius, and others who preceded him. But in the first place, if +invention is to be taken in so strict a sense that the matter of a +poem must be wholly new, and that in all its parts, then Scaliger +hath made out, saith Segrais, that the history of Troy was no more +the invention of Homer than of Virgil. There was not an old woman +or almost a child, but had it in their mouths before the Greek poet +or his friends digested it into this admirable order in which we +read it. At this rate, as Solomon hath told us, there is nothing +new beneath the sun. Who, then, can pass for an inventor if Homer +as well as Virgil must be deprived of that glory! Is Versailles the +less a new building because the architect of that palace hath +imitated others which were built before it? Walls, doors and +windows, apartments, offices, rooms of convenience and magnificence, +are in all great houses. So descriptions, figures, fables, and the +rest, must be in all heroic poems; they are the common materials of +poetry, furnished from the magazine of nature: every poet hath as +much right to them as every man hath to air or water + + +"Quid prohibetis aquas? Usus communis aquarum est." + + +But the argument of the work (that is to say, its principal action), +the economy and disposition of it--these are the things which +distinguish copies from originals. The Poet who borrows nothing +from others is yet to be born; he and the Jews' Messias will come +together. There are parts of the "AEneis" which resemble some parts +both of the "Ilias" and of the "Odysses;" as, for example, AEneas +descended into hell, and Ulysses had been there before him; AEneas +loved Dido, and Ulysses loved Calypso: in few words, Virgil hath +imitated Homer's "Odysses" in his first six books, and in his six +last the "Ilias." But from hence can we infer that the two poets +write the same history? Is there no invention in some other parts +of Virgil's "AEneis?" The disposition of so many various matters, +is not that his own? From what book of Homer had Virgil his episode +of Nysus and Euryalus, of Mezentius and Lausus? From whence did he +borrow his design of bringing AEneas into Italy? of establishing the +Roman Empire on the foundations of a Trojan colony? to say nothing +of the honour he did his patron, not only in his descent from Venus, +but in making him so like her in his best features that the goddess +might have mistaken Augustus for her son. He had indeed the story +from common fame, as Homer had his from the Egyptian priestess. +AEneadum genetrix was no more unknown to Lucretius than to him; but +Lucretius taught him not to form his hero, to give him piety or +valour for his manners--and both in so eminent a degree that, having +done what was possible for man to save his king and country, his +mother was forced to appear to him and restrain his fury, which +hurried him to death in their revenge. But the poet made his piety +more successful; he brought off his father and his son; and his gods +witnessed to his devotion by putting themselves under his +protection, to be replaced by him in their promised Italy. Neither +the invention nor the conduct of this great action were owing to +Homer or any other poet; it is one thing to copy, and another thing +to imitate from nature. The copier is that servile imitator to whom +Horace gives no better a name than that of animal; he will not so +much as allow him to be a man. Raffaelle imitated nature; they who +copy one of Raffaelle's pieces, imitate but him, for his work is +their original. They translate him, as I do Virgil; and fall as +short of him as I of Virgil. There is a kind of invention in the +imitation of Raffaelle; for though the thing was in nature, yet the +idea of it was his own. Ulysses travelled, so did AEneas; but +neither of them were the first travellers: for Cain went into the +land of Nod before they were born, and neither of the poets ever +heard of such a man. If Ulysses had been killed at Troy, yet AEneas +must have gone to sea, or he could never have arrived in Italy; but +the designs of the two poets were as different as the courses of +their heroes--one went home, and the other sought a home. + +To return to my first similitude. Suppose Apelles and Raffaelle had +each of them painted a burning Troy, might not the modern painter +have succeeded as well as the ancient, though neither of them had +seen the town on fire? For the drafts of both were taken from the +ideas which they had of nature. Cities have been burnt before +either of them were in being. But to close the simile as I began +it: they would not have designed it after the same manner; Apelles +would have distinguished Pyrrhus from the rest of all the Grecians, +and showed him forcing his entrance into Priam's palace; there he +had set him in the fairest light, and given him the chief place of +all his figures, because he was a Grecian and he would do honour to +his country. Raffaelle, who was an Italian, and descended from the +Trojans, would have made AEneas the hero of his piece, and perhaps +not with his father on his back, his son in one hand, his bundle of +gods in the other, and his wife following (for an act of piety is +not half so graceful in a picture as an act of courage); he would +rather have drawn him killing Androgeus or some other hand to hand, +and the blaze of the fires should have darted full upon his face, to +make him conspicuous amongst his Trojans. This, I think, is a just +comparison betwixt the two poets in the conduct of their several +designs. Virgil cannot be said to copy Homer; the Grecian had only +the advantage of writing first. If it be urged that I have granted +a resemblance in some parts, yet therein Virgil has excelled him; +for what are the tears of Calypso for being left, to the fury and +death of Dido? Where is there the whole process of her passion and +all its violent effects to be found in the languishing episode of +the "Odysses"? If this be to copy, let the critics show us the same +disposition, features, or colouring in their original. The like may +be said of the descent to hell, which was not of Homer's invention +either; he had it from the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. But to +what end did Ulysses make that journey? AEneas undertook it by the +express commandment of his father's ghost. There he was to show him +all the succeeding heroes of his race, and next to Romulus (mark, if +you please the address of Virgil) his own patron, Augustus Caesar. +Anchises was likewise to instruct him how to manage the Italian war, +and how to conclude it with his honour--that is, in other words, to +lay the foundations of that empire which Augustus was to govern. +This is the noble invention of our author, but it hath been copied +by so many sign-post daubers that now it is grown fulsome, rather by +their want of skill than by the commonness. + +In the last place. I may safely grant that by reading Homer, Virgil +was taught to imitate his invention--that is to imitate like him +(which is no more than if a painter studied Raffaelle that he might +learn to design after his manner). And thus I might imitate Virgil +if I were capable of writing an heroic poem, and yet the invention +be my own; but I should endeavour to avoid a servile copying. I +would not give the same story under other names, with the same +characters, in the same order, and with the same sequel, for every +common reader to find me out at the first sight for a plagiary, and +cry, "This I read before in Virgil in a better language and in +better verse." This is like Merry-Andrew on the low rope copying +lubberly the same tricks which his master is so dexterously +performing on the high. + +I will trouble your lordship but with one objection more, which I +know not whether I found in Le Febvre or Valois, but I am sure I +have read it in another French critic, whom I will not name because +I think it is not much for his reputation. Virgil in the heat of +action--suppose, for example, in describing the fury of his hero in +a battle (when he is endeavouring to raise our concernments to the +highest pitch)--turns short on the sudden into some similitude which +diverts, say they, your attention from the main subject, and +misspends it on some trivial image. He pours cold water into the +caldron when his business is to make it boil. + +This accusation is general against all who would be thought heroic +poets, but I think it touches Virgil less than any; he is too great +a master of his art to make a blot which may so easily be hit. +Similitudes (as I have said) are not for tragedy, which is all +violent, and where the passions are in a perpetual ferment; for +there they deaden, where they should animate; they are not of the +nature of dialogue unless in comedy. A metaphor is almost all the +stage can suffer, which is a kind of similitude comprehended in a +word. But this figure has a contrary effect in heroic poetry; there +it is employed to raise the admiration, which is its proper +business; and admiration is not of so violent a nature as fear or +hope, compassion or horror, or any concernment we can have for such +or such a person on the stage. Not but I confess that similitudes +and descriptions when drawn into an unreasonable length must needs +nauseate the reader. Once I remember (and but once) Virgil makes a +similitude of fourteen lines, and his description of Fame is about +the same number. He is blamed for both, and I doubt not but he +would have contracted them had be lived to have reviewed his work; +but faults are no precedents. This I have observed of his +similitudes in general--that they are not placed (as our unobserving +critics tell us) in the heat of any action, but commonly in its +declining; when he has warmed us in his description as much as +possibly he can, then (lest that warmth should languish) he renews +it by some apt similitude which illustrates his subject and yet +palls not his audience. I need give your lordship but one example +of this kind, and leave the rest to your observation when next you +review the whole "AEneis" in the original, unblemished by my rude +translation; it is in the first hook, where the poet describes +Neptune composing the ocean, on which AEolus had raised a tempest +without his permission. He had already chidden the rebellious winds +for obeying the commands of their usurping master; he had warned +them from the seas; he had beaten down the billows with his mace; +dispelled the clouds, restored the sunshine, while Triton and +Cymothoe were heaving the ships from off the quicksands, before the +poet would offer at a similitude for illustration + + +"Ac, veluti magno in populo cum saepe coorta est +Seditio, saevitque animis ignobile vulgus; +Jamque faces, et saxa volant; furor arma ministrat; +Tum, pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem +Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant: +Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet: +Sic cunctus pelagi cecidit fragor, aequora postquam +Prospiciens genitor, coeloque invectus aperto +Flectit equos, curruque volans dat lora secundo." + + +This is the first similitude which Virgil makes in this poem, and +one of the longest in the whole, for which reason I the rather cite +it. While the storm was in its fury, any allusion had been +improper; for the poet could have compared it to nothing more +impetuous than itself; consequently he could have made no +illustration. If he could have illustrated, it had been an +ambitious ornament out of season, and would have diverted our +concernment (nunc non erat his locus), and therefore he deferred it +to its proper place. + +These are the criticisms of most moment which have been made against +the "AEneis" by the ancients or moderns. As for the particular +exceptions against this or that passage, Macrobius and Pontanus have +answered them already. If I desired to appear more learned than I +am, it had been as easy for me to have taken their objections and +solutions as it is for a country parson to take the expositions of +the Fathers out of Junius and Tremellius, or not to have named the +authors from whence I had them; for so Ruaeus (otherwise a most +judicious commentator on Virgil's works) has used Pontanus, his +greatest benefactor, of whom he is very silent, and I do not +remember that he once cites him. + +What follows next is no objection; for that implies a fault, and it +had been none in Virgil if he had extended the time of his action +beyond a year--at least, Aristotle has set no precise limits to it. +Homer's, we know, was within two months; Tasso; I am sure, exceeds +not a summer, and if I examined him perhaps he might be reduced into +a much less compass. Bossu leaves it doubtful whether Virgil's +action were within the year, or took up some months beyond it. +Indeed, the whole dispute is of no more concernment to the common +reader than it is to a ploughman whether February this year had +twenty-eight or twenty-nine days in it; but for the satisfaction of +the more curious (of which number I am sure your lordship is one) I +will translate what I think convenient out of Segrais, whom perhaps +you have not read, for he has made it highly probable that the +action of the "AEneis" began in the spring, and was not extended +beyond the autumn; and we have known campaigns that have begun +sooner and have ended later. + +Ronsard and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of opinion that the +action of this poem takes up almost a year and half, ground their +calculation thus:- Anchises died in Sicily at the end of winter or +beginning of the spring. AEneas, immediately after the interment of +his father, puts to sea for Italy; he is surprised by the tempest +described in the beginning of the first book; and there it is that +the scene of the poem opens, and where the action must commence. He +is driven by this storm on the coasts of Africa; he stays at +Carthage all that summer, and almost all the winter following; sets +sail again for Italy just before the beginning of the spring; meets +with contrary winds, and makes Sicily the second time. This part of +the action completes the year. Then he celebrates the anniversary +of his father's funerals, and shortly after arrives at Cumes. And +from thence his time is taken up in his first treaty with Latinus; +the overture of the war; the siege of his camp by Turnus; his going +for succours to relieve it; his return; the raising of the siege by +the first battle; the twelve days' truce; the second battle; the +assault of Laurentum, and the single fight with Turnus--all which, +they say, cannot take up less than four or five months more, by +which account we cannot suppose the entire action to be contained in +a much less compass than a year and half. + +Segrais reckons another way, and his computation is not condemned by +the learned Ruaeus, who compiled and published the commentaries on +our poet which we call the "Dauphin's Virgil." He allows the time +of year when Anchises died to be in the latter end of winter or the +beginning of the spring; he acknowledges that when AEneas is first +seen at sea afterwards, and is driven by the tempest on the coast of +Africa, is the time when the action is naturally to begin; he +confesses farther, that AEneas left Carthage in the latter end of +winter, for Dido tells him in express terms, as an argument for his +longer stay - + + +"Quin etiam hiberno moliris sidere classem." + + +But whereas Ronsard's followers suppose that when AEneas had buried +his father he set sail immediately for Italy (though the tempest +drove him on the coast of Carthage), Segrais will by no means allow +that supposition, but thinks it much more probable that he remained +in Sicily till the midst of July or the beginning of August, at +which time he places the first appearance of his hero on the sea, +and there opens the action of the poem. From which beginning, to +the death of Turnus, which concludes the action, there need not be +supposed above ten months of intermediate time; for arriving at +Carthage in the latter end of summer, staying there the winter +following, departing thence in the very beginning of the spring, +making a short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, +and making the war, may be reasonably judged the business but of ten +months. To this the Ronsardians reply that, having been for seven +years before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in Sicily +than to inter his father--after that office was performed, what +remained for him but without delay to pursue his first adventure? +To which Segrais answers that the obsequies of his father, according +to the rites of the Greeks and Romans, would detain him for many +days; that a longer time must be taken up in the re-fitting of his +ships after so tedious a voyage, and in refreshing his weather- +beaten soldiers on a friendly coast. These indeed are but +suppositions on both sides, yet those of Segrais seem better +grounded; for the feast of Dido, when she entertained AEneas first, +has the appearance of a summer's night, which seems already almost +ended, when he begins his story. Therefore the love was made in +autumn; the hunting followed properly, when the heats of that +scorching country were declining. The winter was passed in jollity, +as the season and their love required; and he left her in the latter +end of winter, as is already proved. This opinion is fortified by +the arrival of AEneas at the mouth of Tiber, which marks the season +of the spring, that season being perfectly described by the singing +of the birds saluting the dawn, and by the beauty of the place, +which the poet seems to have painted expressly in the seventh +AEneid:- + + +"Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis, +Cum venti posuere . . . +. . . variae circumque supraque +Assuetae ripis volucres, et fluminis alveo, +AEthera mulcebant cantu." + + +The remainder of the action required but three months more; for when +AEneas went for succour to the Tuscans, he found their army in a +readiness to march and wanting only a commander: so that, according +to this calculation, the "AEneas" takes not up above a year +complete, and may be comprehended in less compass. + +This, amongst other circumstances treated more at large by Segrais, +agrees with the rising of Orion, which caused the tempest described +in the beginning of the first book. By some passages in the +"Pastorals," but more particularly in the "Georgics," our poet is +found to be an exact astronomer, according to the knowledge of that +age. Now Ilioneus, whom Virgil twice employs in embassies as the +best speaker of the Trojans, attributes that tempest to Orion in his +speech to Dido:- + + +"Cum subito assurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion." + + +He must mean either the heliacal or achronical rising of that sign. +The heliacal rising of a constellation is when it comes from under +the rays of the sun, and begins to appear before daylight. The +achronical rising, on the contrary, is when it appears at the close +of day, and in opposition of the sun's diurnal course. The heliacal +rising of Orion is at present computed to be about the 6th of July; +and about that time it is that he either causes or presages tempests +on the seas. + +Segrais has observed farther, that when Anna counsels Dido to stay +AEneas during the winter, she speaks also of Orion:- + + +"Dum pelago desaevit hiems, et aquosus Orion." + + +If therefore Ilioneus, according to our supposition, understand the +heliacal rising of Orion, Anna must mean the achronical, which the +different epithets given to that constellation seem to manifest. +Ilioneus calls him nimbosus, Anna, aquosus. He is tempestuous in +the summer, when he rises heliacally; and rainy in the winter, when +he rises achronically. Your lordship will pardon me for the +frequent repetition of these cant words, which I could not avoid in +this abbreviation of Segrais, who, I think, deserves no little +commendation in this new criticism. + +I have yet a word or two to say of Virgil's machines, from my own +observation of them. He has imitated those of Homer, but not copied +them. It was established long before this time, in the Roman +religion as well as in the Greek, that there were gods, and both +nations for the most part worshipped the same deities, as did also +the Trojans (from whom the Romans, I suppose, would rather be +thought to derive the rites of their religion than from the +Grecians, because they thought themselves descended from them). +Each of those gods had his proper office, and the chief of them +their particular attendants. Thus Jupiter had in propriety Ganymede +and Mercury, and Juno had Iris. It was not for Virgil, then, to +Create new ministers; he must take what he found in his religion. +It cannot therefore be said that he borrowed them from Homer, any +more than from Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds +occasion for them, as the Grecian poet did; but he invents the +occasions for which he uses them. Venus, after the destruction of +Troy, had gained Neptune entirely to her party; therefore we find +him busy in the beginning of the "AEneis" to calm the tempest raised +by AEolus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan fleet to Cumes in +safety, with the loss only of their pilot, for whom he bargains. I +name those two examples--amongst a hundred which I omit--to prove +that Virgil, generally speaking, employed his machines in performing +those things which might possibly have been done without them. What +more frequent than a storm at sea upon the rising of Orion? What +wonder if amongst so many ships there should one be overset, which +was commanded by Orontes, though half the winds had not been there +which AEolus employed? Might not Palinurus, without a miracle, fall +asleep and drop into the sea, having been over-wearied with +watching, and secure of a quiet passage by his observation of the +skies? At least AEneas, who knew nothing of the machine of Somnus, +takes it plainly in this sense:- + + +"O nimium coelo et pelago confise sereno, +Nudus in ignota, Palinure, jacebis arena." + + +But machines sometimes are specious things to amuse the reader, and +give a colour of probability to things otherwise incredible; and, +besides, it soothed the vanity of the Romans to find the gods so +visibly concerned in all the actions of their predecessors. We who +are better taught by our religion, yet own every wonderful accident +which befalls us for the best, to be brought to pass by some special +providence of Almighty God, and by the care of guardian angels; and +from hence I might infer that no heroic poem can be writ on the +Epicurean principles, which I could easily demonstrate if there were +need to prove it or I had leisure. + +When Venus opens the eyes of her son AEneas to behold the gods who +combated against Troy in that fatal night when it was surprised, we +share the pleasure of that glorious vision (which Tasso has not ill +copied in the sacking of Jerusalem). But the Greeks had done their +business though neither Neptune, Juno, or Pallas had given them +their divine assistance. The most crude machine which Virgil uses +is in the episode of Camilla, where Opis by the command of her +mistress kills Aruns. The next is in the twelfth AEneid, where +Venus cures her son AEneas. But in the last of these the poet was +driven to a necessity, for Turnus was to be slain that very day; and +AEneas, wounded as he was, could not have engaged him in single +combat unless his hurt had been miraculously healed and the poet had +considered that the dittany which she brought from Crete could not +have wrought so speedy an effect without the juice of ambrosia which +she mingled with it. After all, that his machine might not seem too +violent, we see the hero limping after Turnus; the wound was +skinned, but the strength of his thigh was not restored. But what +reason had our author to wound AEneas at so critical a time? And +how came the cuishes to be worse tempered than the rest of his +armour, which was all wrought by Vulcan and his journeymen? These +difficulties are not easily to be solved without confessing that +Virgil had not life enough to correct his work, though he had +reviewed it and found those errors, which he resolved to mend; but +being prevented by death, and not willing to leave an imperfect work +behind him, he ordained by his last testament that his "AEneis" +should be burned. As for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a +goddess, the machine was not altogether so outrageous as the +wounding Mars and Venus by the sword of Diomede. Two divinities, +one would have thought, might have pleaded their prerogative of +impassibility, or at least not have been wounded by any mortal hand. +Beside that, the [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] which they +shed was so very like our common blood that it was not to be +distinguished from it but only by the name and colour. As for what +Horace says in his "Art of Poetry," that no machines are to be used +unless on some extraordinary occasion-- + + +"Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus" - + + +that rule is to be applied to the theatre, of which he is then +speaking, and means no more than this--that when the knot of the +play is to be untied, and no other way is left for making the +discovery, then, and not otherwise, let a god descend upon a rope, +and clear the business to the audience. But this has no relation to +the machines which are used in an epic poem. + +In the last place, for the dira, or flying pest which, flapping on +the shield of Turnus and fluttering about his head, disheartened him +in the duel, and presaged to him his approaching death--I might have +placed it more properly amongst the objections, for the critics who +lay want of courage to the charge of Virgil's hero quote this +passage as a main proof of their assertion. They say our author had +not only secured him before the duel, but also in the beginning of +it had given him the advantage in impenetrable arms and in his +sword; for that of Turnus was not his own (which was forged by +Vulcan for his father), but a weapon which he had snatched in haste, +and by mistake, belonging to his charioteer Metiscus. That after +all this Jupiter, who was partial to the Trojan, and distrustful of +the event, though he had hung the balance and given it a jog of his +hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the Fates a +collateral security by sending the screech-owl to discourage him; +for which they quote these words of Virgil:- + + +"Non me tua turbida virtus +Terret, ait; dii me terrent, et Jupiter hostis." + + +In answer to which, I say that this machine is one of those which +the poet uses only for ornament, and not out of necessity. Nothing +can be more beautiful or more poetical than his description of the +three Dirae, or the setting of the balance, which our Milton has +borrowed from him, but employed to a different end; for, first, he +makes God Almighty set the scales for St. Gabriel and Satan, when he +knew no combat was to follow; then he makes the good angel's scale +descend, and the devil's mount--quite contrary to Virgil, if I have +translated the three verses according to my author's sense:- + + +"Jupiter ipse duas aequota examine lances +Sustinet, et fata imponit diversa duorum; +Quem damnet labor, et quo vergat pondere letum." + + +For I have taken these words Quem damnet labor in the sense which +Virgil gives them in another place (Damnabis tu quoque votis), to +signify a prosperous event. Yet I dare not condemn so great a +genius as Milton; for I am much mistaken if he alludes not to the +text in Daniel where Belshazzar was put into the balance and found +too light. This is digression, and I return to my subject. I said +above that these two machines of the balance and the Dira were only +ornamental, and that the success of the duel had been the same +without them; for when AEneas and Turnus stood fronting each other +before the altar, Turnus looked dejected, and his colour faded in +his face, as if he desponded of the victory before the fight; and +not only he, but all his party, when the strength of the two +champions was judged by the proportion of their limbs, concluded it +was impar pugna, and that their chief was overmatched. Whereupon +Juturna, who was of the same opinion, took this opportunity to break +the treaty and renew the war. Juno herself had plainly told the +nymph beforehand that her brother was to fight + + +"Imparibus fatis; nec diis, nec viribus aequis;" + + +so that there was no need of an apparition to fright Turnus, he had +the presage within himself of his impending destiny. The Dira only +served to confirm him in his first opinion, that it was his destiny +to die in the ensuing combat. And in this sense are those words of +Virgil to be taken - + + +"Non me tua turbida virtus +Terret, ait; dii me terrent, et Jupiter hostis." + + +I doubt not but the adverb solum is to be understood ("It is not +your valour only that gives me this concernment, but I find also by +this portent that Jupiter is my enemy"); for Turnus fled before, +when his first sword was broken, till his sister supplied him with a +better, which indeed he could not use because AEneas kept him at a +distance with his spear. I wonder Ruaeus saw not this, where he +charges his author so unjustly for giving Turnus a second sword to +no purpose. How could he fasten a blow or make a thrust, when he +was not suffered to approach? Besides, the chief errand of the Dira +was to warn Juturna from the field, for she could have brought the +chariot again when she saw her brother worsted in the duel. I might +farther add that AEneas was so eager of the fight that he left the +city, now almost in his possession, to decide his quarrel with +Turnus by the sword; whereas Turnus had manifestly declined the +combat, and suffered his sister to convey him as far from the reach +of his enemy as she could. I say, not only suffered her, but +consented to it; for it is plain he knew her by these words:- + + +"O soror, et dudum agnovi, cum prima per artem +Faedera turbasti, teque haec in bella dedisti; +Et tunc necquicquam fallis dea." + + +I have dwelt so long on this subject that I must contract what I +have to say in reference to my translation, unless I would swell my +preface into a volume, and make it formidable to your lordship, when +you see so many pages yet behind. And, indeed, what I have already +written, either in justification or praise of Virgil, is against +myself for presuming to copy in my coarse English the thoughts and +beautiful expressions of this inimitable poet, who flourished in an +age when his language was brought to its last perfection, for which +it was particularly owing to him and Horace. I will give your +lordship my opinion that those two friends had consulted each +other's judgment wherein they should endeavour to excel; and they +seem to have pitched on propriety of thought, elegance of words, and +harmony of numbers. According to this model, Horace wrote his odes +and epodes; for his satires and epistles, being intended wholly for +instruction, required another style - + + +"Ornari res ipsa negat, contenta doceri" - + + +and therefore, as he himself professes, are sermoni propriora +(nearer prose than verse). But Virgil, who never attempted the +lyric verse, is everywhere elegant, sweet, and flowing in his +hexameters. His words are not only chosen, but the places in which +he ranks them for the sound; he who removes them from the station +wherein their master sets them spoils the harmony. What he says of +the Sibyl's prophecies may be as properly applied to every word of +his--they must be read in order as they lie; the least breath +discomposes them, and somewhat of their divinity is lost. I cannot +boast that I have been thus exact in my verses; but I have +endeavoured to follow the example of my master, and am the first +Englishman perhaps who made it his design to copy him in his +numbers, his choice of words, and his placing them for the sweetness +of the sound. On this last consideration I have shunned the caesura +as much as possibly I could; for wherever that is used, it gives a +roughness to the verse, of which we can have little need in a +language which is overstocked with consonants. Such is not the +Latin where the vowels and consonants are mixed in proportion to +each other; yet Virgil judged the vowels to have somewhat of an +over-balance, and therefore tempers their sweetness with caesuras. +Such difference there is in tongues that the same figure which +roughens one, gives majesty to another; and that was it which Virgil +studied in his verses. Ovid uses it but rarely; and hence it is +that his versification cannot so properly be called sweet as +luscious. The Italians are forced upon it once or twice in every +line, because they have a redundancy of vowels in their language; +their metal is so soft that it will not coin without alloy to harden +it. On the other side, for the reason already named, it is all we +can do to give sufficient sweetness to our language; we must not +only choose our words for elegance, but for sound--to perform which +a mastery in the language is required; the poet must have a magazine +of words, and have the art to manage his few vowels to the best +advantage, that they may go the farther. He must also know the +nature of the vowels--which are more sonorous, and which more soft +and sweet--and so dispose them as his present occasions require; all +which, and a thousand secrets of versification beside, he may learn +from Virgil, if he will take him for his guide. If he be above +Virgil, and is resolved to follow his own verve (as the French call +it), the proverb will fall heavily upon him: "Who teaches himself +has a fool for his master." + +Virgil employed eleven years upon his "AEneis," yet he left it, as +he thought himself, imperfect; which, when I seriously consider, I +wish that, instead of three years which I have spent in the +translation of his works, I had four years more allowed me to +correct my errors, that I might make my version somewhat more +tolerable than it is; for a poet cannot have too great a reverence +for his readers if he expects his labours should survive him. Yet I +will neither plead my age nor sickness in excuse of the faults which +I have made. That I wanted time is all I have to say; for some of +my subscribers grew so clamorous that I could no longer defer the +publication. I hope, from the candour of your lordship, and your +often-experienced goodness to me, that if the faults are not too +many you will make allowances, with Horace:- + + +"Si plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis +Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit, +Aut humana parum cavit natura." + + +You may please also to observe that there is not, to the best of my +remembrance, one vowel gaping on another for want of a caesura in +this whole poem. But where a vowel ends a word the next begins +either with a consonant or what is its equivalent; for our w and h +aspirate, and our diphthongs, are plainly such. The greatest +latitude I take is in the letter y when it concludes a word and the +first syllable of the next begins with a vowel. Neither need I have +called this a latitude, which is only an explanation of this general +rule--that no vowel can be cut off before another when we cannot +sink the pronunciation of it, as he, she, me, I, &c. Virgil thinks +it sometimes a beauty to imitate the licence of the Greeks, and +leave two vowels opening on each other, as in that verse of the +third pastoral-- + + +"Et succus pecori, et lac subducitur agnis." + + +But nobis non licet esse tam disertis--at least, if we study to +refine our numbers. I have long had by me the materials of an +English "Prosodia," containing all the mechanical rules of +versification, wherein I have treated with some exactness of the +feet, the quantities, and the pauses. The French and Italians know +nothing of the two first--at least, their best poets have not +practised them. As for the pauses, Malherbe first brought them into +France within this last century, and we see how they adorn their +Alexandrines. But as Virgil propounds a riddle which he leaves +unsolved - + + +"Dic quibus in terris, inscripti nomina regum +Nascantur flores, et Phyllida solus habeto" - + + +so I will give your lordship another, and leave the exposition of it +to your acute judgment. I am sure there are few who make verses +have observed the sweetness of these two lines in "Cooper's Hill" - + + +"Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull; +Strong without rage; without o'erflowing, full" - + + +and there are yet fewer who can find the reason of that sweetness. +I have given it to some of my friends in conversation, and they have +allowed the criticism to be just. But since the evil of false +quantities is difficult to be cured in any modern language; since +the French and the Italians, as well as we, are yet ignorant what +feet are to be used in heroic poetry; since I have not strictly +observed those rules myself which I can teach others; since I +pretend to no dictatorship among my fellow-poets; since, if I should +instruct some of them to make well-running verses, they want genius +to give them strength as well as sweetness; and, above all, since +your lordship has advised me not to publish that little which I +know, I look on your counsel as your command, which I shall observe +inviolably till you shall please to revoke it and leave me at +liberty to make my thoughts public. In the meantime, that I may +arrogate nothing to myself, I must acknowledge that Virgil in Latin +and Spenser in English have been my masters. Spenser has also given +me the boldness to make use sometimes of his Alexandrine line, which +we call, though improperly, the Pindaric, because Mr. Cowley has +often employed it in his odes. It adds a certain majesty to the +verse when it is used with judgment, and stops the sense from +overflowing into another line. Formerly the French, like us and the +Italians, had but five feet or ten syllables in their heroic verse; +but since Ronsard's time, as I suppose, they found their tongue too +weak to support their epic poetry without the addition of another +foot. That indeed has given it somewhat of the run and measure of a +trimetre, but it runs with more activity than strength. Their +language is not strong with sinews, like our English; it has the +nimbleness of a greyhound, but not the bulk and body of a mastiff. +Our men and our verses overbear them by their weight; and pondere, +non numero is the British motto. The French have set up purity for +the standard of their language; and a masculine vigour is that of +ours. Like their tongue is the genius of their poets, light and +trifling in comparison of the English--more proper for sonnets, +madrigals, and elegies than heroic poetry. The turn on thoughts and +words is their chief talent: but the epic poem is too stately to +receive those little ornaments. The painters draw their nymphs in +thin and airy habits, but the weight of gold and of embroideries is +reserved for queens and goddesses. Virgil is never frequent in +those turns, like Ovid, but much more sparing of them in his +"AEneis" than in his Pastorals and Georgics. + + +"Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere manes." + + +That turn is beautiful indeed; but he employs it in the story of +Orpheus and Eurydice, not in his great poem. I have used that +licence in his "AEneis" sometimes, but I own it as my fault; it was +given to those who understand no better. It is like Ovid's + + +"Semivirumque bovem, semibovemque virum." + + +The poet found it before his critics, but it was a darling sin which +he would not be persuaded to reform. + +The want of genius, of which I have accused the French, is laid to +their charge by one of their own great authors, though I have +forgotten his name, and where I read it. If rewards could make good +poets, their great master has not been wanting on his part in his +bountiful encouragements; for he is wise enough to imitate Augustus +if he had a Maro. The Triumvir and Proscriber had descended to us +in a more hideous form than they now appear, if the emperor had not +taken care to make friends of him and Horace. I confess the +banishment of Ovid was a blot in his escutcheon; yet he was only +banished, and who knows but his crime was capital? And then his +exile was a favour. Ariosto, who, with all his faults, must be +acknowledged a great poet, has put these words into the mouth of an +Evangelist; but whether they will pass for gospel now I cannot +tell:- + + +"Non fu si santo ni benigno Augusto, +Come la tuba di Virgilio suona; +L'haver havuto in poesia buon gusto, +La proscrittione iniqua gli pardona." + + +But heroic poetry is not of the growth of France, as it might be of +England if it were cultivated. Spenser wanted only to have read the +rules of Bossu, for no man was ever born with a greater genius or +had more knowledge to support it. But the performance of the French +is not equal to their skill; and hitherto we have wanted skill to +perform better. Segrais, whose preface is so wonderfully good, yet +is wholly destitute of elevation; though his version is much better +than that of the two brothers, or any of the rest who have attempted +Virgil. Annibale Caro is a great name amongst the Italians, yet his +translation of the "AEneis" is most scandalously mean, though he has +taken the advantage of writing in blank verse, and freed himself +from the shackles of modern rhyme--if it be modern; for Le Clerc has +told us lately, and I believe has made it out, that David's Psalms +were written in as errant rhyme as they are translated. Now if a +Muse cannot run when she is unfettered, it is a sign she has but +little speed. I will not make a digression here, though I am +strangely tempted to it, but will only say that he who can write +well in rhyme may write better in blank verse. Rhyme is certainly a +constraint even to the best poets, and those who make it with most +ease; though perhaps I have as little reason to complain of that +hardship as any man, excepting Quarles and Withers. What it adds to +sweetness, it takes away from sense; and he who loses the least by +it may be called a gainer; it often makes us swerve from an author's +meaning. As if a mark he set up for an archer at a great distance, +let him aim as exactly as he can, the least wind will take his arrow +and divert it from the white. + +I return to our Italian translator of the "AEneis;" he is a foot- +poet; he lackeys by the side of Virgil at the best, but never mounts +behind him. Doctor Morelli, who is no mean critic in our poetry, +and therefore may be presumed to be a better in his own language, +has confirmed me in this opinion by his judgment, and thinks withal +that he has often mistaken his master's sense. I would say so if I +durst, but am afraid I have committed the same fault more often and +more grossly; for I have forsaken Ruaeus (whom generally I follow) +in many places, and made expositions of my own in some, quite +contrary to him, of which I will give but two examples, because they +are so near each other in the tenth AEneid:- + + +"Sorti pater aequus utrique." + + +Pallas says it to Turnus just before they fight. Ruaeus thinks that +the word pater is to be referred to Evander, the father of Pallas; +but how could he imagine that it was the same thing to Evander if +his son were slain, or if he overcame? The poet certainly intended +Jupiter, the common father of mankind, who, as Pallas hoped, would +stand an impartial spectator of the combat, and not be more +favourable to Turnus than to him. The second is not long after it, +and both before the duel is begun. They are the words of Jupiter, +who comforts Hercules for the death of Pallas, which was immediately +to ensue, and which Hercules could not hinder, though the young hero +had addressed his prayers to him for his assistance, because the +gods cannot control destiny. The verse follows - + + +"Sic ait; atque oculos Rutulorum rejicit arvis" - + + +which the same Ruaeus thus construes: "Jupiter, after he had said +this, immediately turns his eyes to the Rutulian fields and beholds +the duel." I have given this place another exposition--that he +turned his eyes from the field of combat that he might not behold a +sight so unpleasing to him. The word rejicit, I know, will admit of +both senses; but Jupiter having confessed that he could not alter +fate, and being grieved he could not in consideration of Hercules, +it seems to me that he should avert his eyes rather than take +pleasure in the spectacle. But of this I am not so confident as the +other, though I think I have followed Virgil's sense. + +What I have said, though it has the face of arrogance, yet is +intended for the honour of my country, and therefore I will boldly +own that this English translation has more of Virgil's spirit in it +than either the French or the Italian. Some of our countrymen have +translated episodes and other parts of Virgil with great success; as +particularly your lordship, whose version of Orpheus and Eurydice is +eminently good. Amongst the dead authors, the Silenus of my Lord +Rescommon cannot be too much commended. I say nothing of Sir John +Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cowley; it is the utmost of my ambition +to be thought their equal, or not to be much inferior to them and +some others of the living. But it is one thing to take pains on a +fragment and translate it perfectly, and another thing to have the +weight of a whole author on my shoulders. They who believe the +burden light, let them attempt the fourth, sixth, or eighth +Pastoral; the first or fourth Georgic; and, amongst the AEneids, the +fourth, the fifth, the seventh, the ninth, the tenth, the eleventh, +or the twelfth, for in these I think I have succeeded best. + +Long before I undertook this work I was no stranger to the original. +I had also studied Virgil's design, his disposition of it, his +manners, his judicious management of the figures, the sober +retrenchments of his sense, which always leaves somewhat to gratify +our imagination, on which it may enlarge at pleasure; but, above +all, the elegance of his expressions and the harmony of his numbers. +For, as I have said in a former dissertation, the words are in +poetry what the colours are in painting. If the design be good, and +the draft be true, the colouring is the first beauty that strikes +the eye. Spenser and Milton are the nearest in English to Virgil +and Horace in the Latin, and I have endeavoured to form my style by +imitating their masters. I will farther own to you, my lord, that +my chief ambition is to please those readers who have discernment +enough to prefer Virgil before any other poet in the Latin tongue. +Such spirits as he desired to please, such would I choose for my +judges, and would stand or fall by them alone. Segrais has +distinguished the readers of poetry, according to their capacity of +judging, into three classes (he might have said the same of writers, +too, if he had pleased). In the lowest form he places those whom he +calls les petits esprits--such things as are our upper-gallery +audience in a playhouse, who like nothing but the husk and rind of +wit; prefer a quibble, a conceit, an epigram, before solid sense and +elegant expression. These are mob-readers. If Virgil and Martial +steed for Parliament-men, we know already who would carry it. But +though they make the greatest appearance in the field, and cry the +loudest, the best of it is they are but a sort of French Huguenots, +or Dutch boors, brought ever in herds, but not naturalised, who have +not land of two pounds per annum in Parnassus, and therefore are not +privileged to poll. Their authors are of the same level; fit to +represent them on a mountebank's stage, or to be masters of the +ceremonies in a bear-garden. Yet these are they who have the most +admirers. But it often happens, to their mortification, that as +their readers improve their stock of sense (as they may by reading +better books, and by conversation with men of judgment), they soon +forsake them; and when the torrent from the mountains falls no more, +the swelling writer is reduced into his shallow bed, like the +Mancanares at Madrid, with scarce water to moisten his own pebbles. +There are a middle sort of readers (as we held there is a middle +state of souls), such as have a farther insight than the former, yet +have not the capacity of judging right; for I speak not of those who +are bribed by a party, and knew better if they were not corrupted, +but I mean a company of warm young men, who are not yet arrived so +far as to discern the difference betwixt fustian or ostentations +sentences and the true sublime. These are above liking Martial or +Owen's epigrams, but they would certainly set Virgil below Statius +or Lucan. I need not say their poets are of the same paste with +their admirers. They affect greatness in all they write, but it is +a bladdered greatness, like that of the vain man whom Seneca +describes an ill habit of body, full of humours, and swelled with +dropsy. Even these, too, desert their authors as their judgment +ripens. The young gentlemen themselves are commonly misled by their +pedagogue at school, their tutor at the university, or their +governor in their travels, and many of these three sorts are the +most positive blockheads in the world. How many of these flatulent +writers have I known who have sunk in their reputation after seven +or eight editions of their works! for indeed they are poets only for +young men. They had great success at their first appearance, but +not being of God, as a wit said formerly, they could not stand. + +I have already named two sorts of judges, but Virgil wrote for +neither of them, and by his example I am not ambitious of pleasing +the lowest or the middle form of readers. He chose to please the +most judicious souls, of the highest rank and truest understanding. +These are few in number; but whoever is so happy as to gain their +approbation can never lose it, because they never give it blindly. +Then they have a certain magnetism in their judgment which attracts +others to their sense. Every day they gain some new proselyte, and +in time become the Church. For this reason a well-weighed judicious +poem, which at its first appearance gains no more upon the world +than to be just received, and rather not blamed than much applauded, +insinuates itself by insensible degrees into the liking of the +reader; the more he studies it, the more it grows upon him, every +time he takes it up he discovers some new graces in it. And whereas +poems which are produced by the vigour of imagination only have a +gloss upon them at the first (which time wears off), the works of +judgment are like the diamond, the more they are polished the more +lustre they receive. Such is the difference betwixt Virgil's +"AEneis" and Marini's "Adone." And if I may be allowed to change +the metaphor, I would say that Virgil is like the Fame which he +describes:- + + +"Mobilitate viget, viresque acquirit eundo." + + +Such a sort of reputation is my aim, though in a far inferior +degree, according to my motto in the title-page--sequiturque patrem +non passibus aequis--and therefore I appeal to the highest court of +judicature, like that of the peers, of which your lordship is so +great an ornament. + +Without this ambition which I own, of desiring to please the judices +natos, I could never have been able to have done anything at this +age, when the fire of poetry is commonly extinguished in other men. +Yet Virgil has given me the example of Entellus for my +encouragement; when he was well heated, the younger champion could +not stand before him. And we find the elder contended not for the +gift, but for the honour (nec dona moror); for Dampier has informed +us in his "Voyages" that the air of the country which produces gold +is never wholesome. + +I had long since considered that the way to please the best judges +is not to translate a poet literally, and Virgil least of any other; +for his peculiar beauty lying in his choice of words, I am excluded +from it by the narrow compass of our heroic verse, unless I would +make use of monosyllables only, and these clogged with consonants, +which are the dead weight of our mother tongue. It is possible, I +confess, though it rarely happens, that a verse of monosyllables may +sound harmoniously; and some examples of it I have seen. My first +line of the "AEneis" is not harsh - + + +"Arms, and the man I sing, who forced by Fate," &c. - + + +but a much better instance may be given from the last line of +Manilius, made English by our learned and judicious Mr. Creech - + + +"Nor could the world have borne so fierce a flame" - + + +where the many liquid consonants are placed so artfully that they +give a pleasing sound to the words, though they are all of one +syllable. It is true, I have been sometimes forced upon it in other +places of this work, but I never did it out of choice: I was either +in haste, or Virgil gave me no occasion for the ornament of words; +for it seldom happens but a monosyllable line turns verse to prose, +and even that prose is rugged and unharmonious. Philarchus, I +remember, taxes Balzac for placing twenty monosyllables in file +without one dissyllable betwixt them. + +The way I have taken is not so strait as metaphrase, nor so loose as +paraphrase; some things, too, I have omitted, and sometimes have +added of my own. Yet the omissions, I hope, are but of +circumstances, and such as would have no grace in English; and the +additions, I also hope, are easily deduced from Virgil's sense. +They will seem (at least, I have the vanity to think so), not stuck +into him, but growing out of him. He studies brevity more than any +other poet; but he had the advantage of a language wherein much may +be comprehended in a little space. We and all the modern tongues +have more articles and pronouns, besides signs of tenses and cases, +and other barbarities on which our speech is built, by the faults of +our forefathers. The Romans founded theirs upon the Greek; and the +Greeks, we know, were labouring many hundred years upon their +language before they brought it to perfection. They rejected all +those signs, and cut off as many articles as they could spare, +comprehending in one word what we are constrained to express in two; +which is one reason why we cannot write so concisely as they have +done. The word pater, for example, signifies not only "a father," +but "your father," "my father," "his or her father"--all included in +a word. + +This inconvenience is common to all modern tongues, and this alone +constrains us to employ more words than the ancients needed. But +having before observed that Virgil endeavours to be short, and at +the same time elegant, I pursue the excellence and forsake the +brevity. For there he is like ambergris, a rich perfume, but of so +close and glutinous a body that it must be opened with inferior +scents of musk or civet, or the sweetness will not be drawn out into +another language. + +On the whole matter I thought fit to steer betwixt the two extremes +of paraphrase and literal translation; to keep as near my author as +I could without losing all his graces, the most eminent of which are +in the beauty of his words: and those words, I must add, are always +figurative. Such of these as would retain their elegance in our +tongue, I have endeavoured to graff on it; but most of them are of +necessity to be lest, because they will not shine in any but their +own. Virgil has sometimes two of them in a line; but the scantiness +of our heroic verse is not capable of receiving more than one; and +that, too, must expiate for many others which have none. Such is +the difference of the languages, or such my want of skill in +choosing words. Yet I may presume to say, and I hope with as much +reason as the French translator, that, taking all the materials of +this divine author, I have endeavoured to make Virgil speak such +English as he would himself have spoken if he had been born in +England and in this present age. I acknowledge, with Segrais, that +I have not succeeded in this attempt according to my desire; yet I +shall not be wholly without praise, if in some sort I may be allowed +to have copied the clearness, the purity, the easiness, and the +magnificence of his style. But I shall have occasion to speak +farther on this subject before I end the preface. + +When I mentioned the Pindaric line, I should have added that I take +another licence in my verses; for I frequently make use of triplet +rhymes, and for the same reason--because they bound the sense. And +therefore I generally join these two licences together, and make the +last verse of the triplet a Pindaric; for besides the majesty which +it gives, it confines the sense within the barriers of three lines, +which would languish if it were lengthened into four. Spenser is my +example for both these privileges of English verses; and Chapman has +followed him in his translation of Homer. Mr. Cowley has given in +to them after both; and all succeeding writers after him. I regard +them now as the Magna Charta of heroic poetry; and am too much an +Englishman to lose what my ancestors have gained for me. Let the +French and Italians value themselves on their regularity; strength +and elevation are our standard. I said before, and I repeat it, +that the affected purity of the French has unsinewed their heroic +verse. The language of an epic poem is almost wholly figurative; +yet they are so fearful of a metaphor that no example of Virgil can +encourage them to be bold with safety. Sure, they might warm +themselves by that sprightly blaze, without approaching it so close +as to singe their wings; they may come as near it as their master. +Not that I would discourage that purity of diction in which he +excels all other poets; but he knows how far to extend his +franchises, and advances to the verge without venturing a foot +beyond it. On the other side, without being injurious to the memory +of our English Pindar, I will presume to say that his metaphors are +sometimes too violent, and his language is not always pure. But at +the same time I must excuse him, for through the iniquity of the +times he was forced to travel at an age when, instead of learning +foreign languages, he should have studied the beauties of his mother +tongue, which, like all other speeches, is to be cultivated early, +or we shall never write it with any kind of elegance. Thus by +gaining abroad he lost at home, like the painter in the "Arcadia," +who, going to see a skirmish, had his arms lopped off, and returned, +says Sir Philip Sidney, well instructed how to draw a battle, but +without a hand to perform his work. + +There is another thing in which I have presumed to deviate from him +and Spenser. They both make hemistichs, or half-verses, breaking +off in the middle of a line. I confess there are not many such in +the "Faerie Queen," and even those few might be occasioned by his +unhappy choice of so long a stanza. Mr. Cowley had found out that +no kind of staff is proper for an heroic poem, as being all too +lyrical; yet though he wrote in couplets, where rhyme is freer from +constraint, he frequently affects half-verses, of which we find not +one in Homer, and I think not in any of the Greek poets or the +Latin, excepting only Virgil: and there is no question but he +thought he had Virgil's authority for that licence. But I am +confident our poet never meant to leave him or any other such a +precedent; and I ground my opinion on these two reasons: first, we +find no example of a hemistich in any of his Pastorals or Georgics, +for he had given the last finishing strokes to both these poems; but +his "AEneis" he left so incorrect, at least so short of that +perfection at which he aimed, that we know how hard a sentence he +passed upon it. And, in the second place, I reasonably presume that +he intended to have filled up all these hemistichs, because in one +of them we find the sense imperfect:- + + +"Quem tibi jam Troja . . . " ("AEn." iii. 340.) + + +which some foolish grammarian has ended for him with a half-line of +nonsense:- + + +"Peperit fumante Creusa." + + +For Ascanius must have been born some years before the burning of +that city, which I need not prove. On the other side we find also +that he himself filled up one line in the sixth AEneid, the +enthusiasm seizing him while he was reading to Augustus:- + + +"Misenum AEolidem, quo non praestantior alter +AEre ciere viros, . . . " + + +to which he added in that transport, Martemque accendare cantu, and +never was any line more nobly finished, for the reasons which I have +given in the "Book of Painting." + +On these considerations I have shunned hemistichs, not being willing +to imitate Virgil to a fault, like Alexander's courtiers, who +affected to hold their necks awry because he could not help it. I +am confident your lordship is by this time of my opinion, and that +you will look on those half-lines hereafter as the imperfect +products of a hasty muse, like the frogs and serpents in the Nile, +part of them kindled into life, and part a lump of unformed, +unanimated mud. + +I am sensible that many of my whole verses are as imperfect as those +halves, for want of time to digest them better. But give me leave +to make the excuse of Boccace, who, when he was upbraided that some +of his novels had not the spirit of the rest, returned this answer: +that Charlemagne, who made the Paladins, was never able to raise an +army of them. The leaders may be heroes, but the multitude must +consist of common men. + +I am also bound to tell your lordship, in my own defence, that from +the beginning of the first Georgic to the end of the last AEneid, I +found the difficulty of translation growing on me in every +succeeding book. For Virgil, above all poets, had a stock which I +may call almost inexhaustible, of figurative, elegant, and sounding +words. I, who inherit but a small portion of his genius, and write +in a language so much inferior to the Latin, have found it very +painful to vary phrases when the same sense returns upon me. Even +he himself, whether out of necessity or choice, has often expressed +the same thing in the same words, and often repeated two or three +whole verses which he had used before. Words are not so easily +coined as money; and yet we see that the credit not only of banks, +but of exchequers, cracks when little comes in and much goes out. +Virgil called upon me in every line for some new word, and I paid so +long that I was almost bankrupt; so that the latter end must needs +be more burthensome than the beginning or the middle; and +consequently the twelfth AEneid cost me double the time of the first +and second. What had become of me, if Virgil had taxed me with +another book? I had certainly been reduced to pay the public in +hammered money for want of milled; that is, in the same old words +which I had used before; and the receivers must have been forced to +have taken anything, where there was so little to be had. + +Besides this difficulty with which I have struggled and made a shift +to pass it ever, there is one remaining, which is insuperable to all +translators. We are bound to our author's sense, though with the +latitudes already mentioned; for I think it not so sacred as that +one iota must not be added or diminished, on pain of an anathema. +But slaves we are, and labour on another man's plantation; we dress +the vineyard, but the wine is the owner's. If the soil be sometimes +barren, then we are sure of being scourged; if it be fruitful, and +our care succeeds, we are not thanked; for the proud reader will +only say--the poor drudge has done his duty. But this is nothing to +what follows; for being obliged to make his sense intelligible, we +are forced to untune our own verses that we may give his meaning to +the reader. He who invents is master of his thoughts and words: he +can turn and vary them as he pleases, till he renders them +harmonious. But the wretched translator has no such privilege, for +being tied to the thoughts, he must make what music he can in the +expression; and for this reason it cannot always be so sweet as that +of the original. There is a beauty of sound, as Segrais has +observed, in some Latin words, which is wholly lost in any modern +language. He instances in that mollis amaracus, on which Venus lays +Cupid in the first AEneid. If I should translate it sweet-marjoram, +as the word signifies, the reader would think I had mistaken Virgil; +for these village-words, as I may call them, give us a mean idea of +the thing; but the sound of the Latin is so much more pleasing, by +the just mixture of the vowels with the consonants, that it raises +our fancies to conceive somewhat more noble than a common herb, and +to spread roses under him, and strew lilies over him--a bed not +unworthy the grandson of the goddess. + +If I cannot copy his harmonious numbers, how shall I imitate his +noble flights, where his thoughts and words are equally sublime? +Quem + + +" . . . quisquis studet aemulari, +. . . caeratis ope Dedalea +Nititur pennis, vitreo daturus +Nomina ponto." + + +What modern language or what poet can express the majestic beauty of +this one verse, amongst a thousand others? + + +"Aude, hospes, contemnere opes, et te quoque dignum +Finge Deo . . . " + + +For my part, I am lost in the admiration of it. I contemn the world +when I think on it, and myself when I translate it. + +Lay by Virgil, I beseech your lordship and all my better sort of +judges, when you take up my version, and it will appear a passable +beauty when the original muse is absent; but like Spenser's false +Florimel, made of snow, it melts and vanishes when the true one +comes in sight. + +I will not excuse, but justify, myself for one pretended crime with +which I am liable to be charged by false critics, not only in this +translation, but in many of my original poems--that I Latinise too +much. It is true, that when I find an English word significant and +sounding, I neither borrow from the Latin nor any other language; +but when I want at home, I must seek abroad. If sounding words are +not of our growth and manufacture, who shall hinder me to import +them from a foreign country? I carry not out the treasure of the +nation which is never to return, but what I bring from Italy I spend +in England. Here it remains and here it circulates, for if the coin +be good it will pass from one hand to another. I trade both with +the living and the dead for the enrichment of our native language. +We have enough in England to supply our necessity; but if we will +have things of magnificence and splendour, we must get them by +commerce. Poetry requires ornament, and that is not to be had from +our old Teuton monosyllables; therefore, if I find any elegant word +in a classic author, I propose it to be naturalised by using it +myself; and if the public approves of it, the bill passes. But +every man cannot distinguish betwixt pedantry and poetry; every man, +therefore, is not fit to innovate. + +Upon the whole matter, a poet must first be certain that the word he +would introduce is beautiful in the Latin; and is to consider, in +the next place, whether it will agree with the English idiom. After +this he ought to take the opinion of judicious friends, such as are +learned in both languages; and lastly, since no man is infallible, +let him use this licence very sparingly; for if too many foreign +words are poured in upon us, it looks as if they were designed not +to assist the natives, but to conquer them. + +I am now drawing towards a conclusion, and suspect your lordship is +very glad of it. But permit me first to own what helps I have had +in this undertaking. The late Earl of Lauderdale sent me over his +new translation of the "AEneis," which he had ended before I engaged +in the same design. Neither did I then intend it; but some +proposals being afterwards made me by my bookseller, I desired his +lordship's leave that I might accept them, which he freely granted, +and I have his letter yet to show for that permission. He resolved +to have printed his work, which he might have done two years before +I could publish mine; and had performed it, if death had not +prevented him. But having his manuscript in my hands, I consulted +it as often as I doubted of my author's sense, for no man understood +Virgil better than that learned nobleman. His friends, I hear, have +yet another and more correct copy of that translation by them, which +had they pleased to have given the public, the judges must have been +convinced that I have not flattered him. + +Besides this help, which was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve has +done me the favour to review the "AEneis," and compare my version +with the original. I shall never be ashamed to own that this +excellent young man has shown me many faults, which I have +endeavoured to correct. It is true he might have easily found more, +and then my translation had been more perfect. + +Two other worthy friends of mine, who desire to have their names +concealed, seeing me straitened in my time, took pity on me and gave +me the life of Virgil, the two prefaces--to the Pastorals and the +Georgics--and all the arguments in prose to the whole translation; +which perhaps has caused a report that the two first poems are not +mine. If it had been true that I had taken their verses for my own, +I might have gloried in their aid; and like Terence, have farthered +the opinion that Scipio and Laelius joined with me. But the same +style being continued through the whole, and the same laws of +versification observed, are proofs sufficient that this is one man's +work; and your lordship is too well acquainted with my manner to +doubt that any part of it is another's. + +That your lordship may see I was in earnest when I premised to +hasten to an end, I will not give the reasons why I writ not always +in the proper terms of navigation, land-service, or in the cant of +any profession. I will only say that Virgil has avoided these +proprieties, because he writ not to mariners, soldiers, astronomers, +gardeners, peasants, &c., but to all in general, and in particular +to men and ladies of the first quality, who have been better bred +than to be too nicely knowing in the terms. In such cases, it is +enough for a poet to write so plainly that he may be understood by +his readers; to avoid impropriety, and not affect to be thought +learned in all things. + +I have emitted the four preliminary lines of the first AEneid, +because I think them inferior to any four others in the whole poem; +and consequently believe they are not Virgil's. There is too great +a gap betwixt the adjective vicina in the second line, and the +substantive arva in the latter end of the third; which keeps his +meaning in obscurity too long, and is contrary to the clearness of +his style. Ut quamvis avido is too ambitious an ornament to be his, +and gratum opus agricolis are all words unnecessary, and independent +of what he had said before. Horrentia Martis arma is worse than any +of the rest. Horrentia is such a flat epithet as Tully would have +given us in his verses. It is a mere filler to stop a vacancy in +the hexameter, and connect the preface to the work of Virgil. + +Our author seems to sound a charge, and begins like the clangour of +a trumpet:- + + +"Arma, virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris," - + + +Scarce a word without an r, and the vowels for the greater part +sonorous. The prefacer began with Ille ego, which he was +constrained to patch up in the fourth line with at nunc to make the +sense cohere; and if both those words are not notorious botches I am +much deceived, though the French translator thinks otherwise. For +my own part, I am rather of the opinion that they were added by +Tucca and Varius, than retrenched. + +I know it may be answered by such as think Virgil the author of the +four lines--that he asserts his title to the "AEneis" in the +beginning of this work, as he did to the two former, in the last +lines of the fourth Georgic. I will not reply otherwise to this, +than by desiring them to compare these four lines with the four +others, which we know are his, because no poet but he alone could +write them. If they cannot distinguish creeping from flying, let +them lay down Virgil, and take up Ovid de Ponto in his stead. My +master needed not the assistance of that preliminary poet to prove +his claim: his own majestic mien discovers him to be the king +amidst a thousand courtiers. It was a superfluous office, and +therefore I would not set those verses in the front of Virgil; but +have rejected them to my own preface: + + +"I, who before, with shepherds in the groves, +Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves, +And issuing thence, compelled the neighb'ring field +A plenteous crop of rising corn to yield; +Manured the glebe, and stocked the fruitful plain +(A poem grateful to the greedy swain)," &c. + + +If there be not a tolerable line in all these six, the prefacer gave +me no occasion to write better. This is a just apology in this +place; but I have done great wrong to Virgil in the whole +translation. Want of time, the inferiority of our language, the +inconvenience of rhyme, and all the other excuses I have made, may +alleviate my fault, but cannot justify the boldness of my +undertaking. What avails it me to acknowledge freely that I have +not been able to do him right in any line? For even my own +confession makes against me; and it will always be returned upon me, +"Why, then, did you attempt it?" To which no other answer can be +made, than that I have done him less injury than any of his former +libellers. + +What they called his picture had been drawn at length so many times +by the daubers of almost all nations, and still so unlike him, that +I snatched up the pencil with disdain, being satisfied beforehand +that I could make some small resemblance of him, though I must be +content with a worse likeness. A sixth Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a +single Orpheus, and some other features have been exactly taken. +But those holiday authors writ for pleasure, and only showed us what +they could have done if they would have taken pains to perform the +whole. + +Be pleased, my lord, to accept with your wonted goodness this +unworthy present which I make you. I have taken off one trouble +from you, of defending it, by acknowledging its imperfections; and +though some part of them are covered in the verse (as Ericthonius +rode always in a chariot to hide his lameness), such of them as +cannot be concealed you will please to connive at, though in the +strictness of your judgment you cannot pardon. If Homer was allowed +to nod sometimes, in so long a work it will be no wonder if I often +fall asleep. You took my "Aurengzebe" into your protection with all +his faults; and I hope here cannot be so many, because I translate +an author who gives me such examples of correctness. What my jury +may be I know not; but it is good for a criminal to plead before a +favourable judge: if I had said partial, would your lordship have +forgiven me? Or will you give me leave to acquaint the world that I +have many times been obliged to your bounty since the Revolution? +Though I never was reduced to beg a charity, nor ever had the +impudence to ask one, either of your lordship or your noble kinsman +the Earl of Dorset, much less of any other, yet when I least +expected it you have both remembered me, so inherent it is in your +family not to forget an old servant. It looks rather like +ingratitude on my part, that where I have been so often obliged, I +have appeared so seldom to return my thanks, and where I was also so +sure of being well received. Somewhat of laziness was in the case, +and somewhat too of modesty; but nothing of disrespect or of +unthankfulness. I will not say that your lordship has encouraged me +to this presumption, lest, if my labours meet with no success in +public, I may expose your judgment to be censured. As for my own +enemies, I shall never think them worth an answer; and if your +lordship has any, they will not dare to arraign you for want of +knowledge in this art till they can produce somewhat better of their +own than your "Essay on Poetry." It was on this consideration that +I have drawn out my preface to so great a length. Had I not +addressed to a poet and a critic of the first magnitude, I had +myself been taxed for want of judgment, and shamed my patron for +want of understanding. But neither will you, my lord, so soon be +tired as any other, because the discourse is on your art; neither +will the learned reader think it tedious, because it is ad Clerum: +at least, when he begins to be weary, the church doors are open. +That I may pursue the allegory with a short prayer after a long +sermon. + +May you live happily and long for the service of your country, the +encouragement of good letters and the ornament of poetry, which +cannot be wished more earnestly by any man than by + +Your Lordship's most humble, +Most obliged and most +Obedient servant, +JOHN DRYDEN. + + + +POSTSCRIPT. + + + +What Virgil wrote in the vigour of his age (in plenty and at ease) I +have undertaken to translate in my declining years; struggling with +wants, oppressed by sickness, curbed in my genius, liable to be +misconstrued in all I write; and my judges, if they are not very +equitable, already prejudiced against me by the lying character +which has been given them of my morals. Yet steady to my +principles, and not dispirited with my afflictions, I have, by the +blessing of God on my endeavours, overcome all difficulties; and, in +some measure, acquitted myself of the debt which I owed the public +when I undertook this work. In the first place, therefore, I +thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power the assistance He has +given me in the beginning, the prosecution, and conclusion of my +present studies, which are more happily performed than I could have +promised to myself when I laboured under such discouragements. For +what I have done, imperfect as it is for want of health and leisure +to correct it, will be judged in after-ages, and possibly in the +present, to be no dishonour to my native country, whose language and +poetry would be more esteemed abroad if they were better understood. +Somewhat (give me leave to say) I have added to both of them in the +choice of words and harmony of numbers, which were wanting, +especially the last, in all our poets; even in those who being +endued with genius yet have not cultivated their mother-tongue with +sufficient care, or, relying on the beauty of their thoughts, have +judged the ornament of words and sweetness of sound unnecessary. +One is for raking in Chaucer (our English Ennius) for antiquated +words, which are never to be revived but when sound or significancy +is wanting in the present language. But many of his deserve not +this redemption any more than the crowds of men who daily die, or +are slain for sixpence in a battle, merit to be restored to life if +a wish could revive them. Others have no ear for verse, nor choice +of words, nor distinction of thoughts, but mingle farthings with +their gold to make up the sum. Here is a field of satire opened to +me, but since the Revolution I have wholly renounced that talent. +For who would give physic to the great, when he is uncalled, to do +his patient no good and endanger himself for his prescription? +Neither am I ignorant but I may justly be condemned for many of +these faults of which I have too liberally arraigned others: + + +"Cynthius aurem +Vellit, et admonuit." + + +It is enough for me if the government will let me pass unquestioned. +In the meantime I am obliged in gratitude to return my thanks to +many of them, who have not only distinguished me from others of the +same party by a particular exception of grace, but without +considering the man have been bountiful to the poet, have encouraged +Virgil to speak such English as I could teach him, and rewarded his +interpreter for the pains he has taken in bringing him over into +Britain by defraying the charges of his voyage. Even Cerberus, when +he had received the sop, permitted AEneas to pass freely to Elysium. +Had it been offered me and I had refused it, yet still some +gratitude is due to such who were willing to oblige me. But how +much more to those from whom I have received the favours which they +have offered to one of a different persuasion; amongst whom I cannot +omit naming the Earls of Derby and of Peterborough. To the first of +these I have not the honour to be known, and therefore his +liberality [was] as much unexpected as it was undeserved. The +present Earl of Peterborough has been pleased long since to accept +the tenders of my service: his favours are so frequent to me that I +receive them almost by prescription. No difference of interests or +opinion has been able to withdraw his protection from me, and I +might justly be condemned for the most unthankful of mankind if I +did not always preserve for him a most profound respect and +inviolable gratitude. I must also add that if the last AEneid shine +amongst its fellows, it is owing to the commands of Sir William +Trumbull, one of the principal Secretaries of State, who recommended +it, as his favourite, to my care; and for his sake particularly I +have made it mine. For who would confess weariness when he enjoined +a fresh labour? I could not but invoke the assistance of a muse for +this last office:- + + +"Extremum hunc, Arethusa; . . . +. . . neget quis carmina Gallo?" + + +Neither am I to forget the noble present which was made me by +Gilbert Dolben, Esq., the worthy son of the late Archbishop of York, +who (when I began this work) enriched me with all the several +editions of Virgil and all the commentaries of those editions in +Latin, amongst which I could not but prefer the Dauphin's as the +last, the shortest, and the most judicious. Fabrini I had also sent +me from Italy, but either he understands Virgil very imperfectly or +I have no knowledge of my author. + +Being invited by that worthy gentleman, Sir William Bowyer, to +Denham Court, I translated the first Georgic at his house and the +greatest part of the last AEneid. A more friendly entertainment no +man ever found. No wonder, therefore, if both these versions +surpass the rest; and own the satisfaction I received in his +converse, with whom I had the honour to be bred in Cambridge, and in +the same college. The seventh AEneid was made English at Burghley, +the magnificent abode of the Earl of Exeter. In a village belonging +to his family I was born, and under his roof I endeavoured to make +that AEneid appear in English with as much lustre as I could, though +my author has not given the finishing strokes either to it or to the +eleventh, as I perhaps could prove in both if I durst presume to +criticise my master. + +By a letter from William Walsh, Esq., of Abberley (who has so long +honoured me with his friendship, and who, without flattery, is the +best critic of our nation), I have been informed that his Grace the +Duke of Shrewsbury has procured a printed copy of the Pastorals, +Georgics, and six first AEneids from my bookseller, and has read +them in the country together with my friend. This noble person +(having been pleased to give them a commendation which I presume not +to insert) has made me vain enough to boast of so great a favour, +and to think I have succeeded beyond my hopes; the character of his +excellent judgment, the acuteness of his wit, and his general +knowledge of good letters, being known as well to all the world as +the sweetness of his disposition, his humanity, his easiness of +access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of his +protection are known to all who have approached him, and to me in +particular, who have formerly had the honour of his conversation. +Whoever has given the world the translation of part of the third +Georgic (which he calls "The Power of Love") has put me to +sufficient pains to make my own not inferior to his; as my Lord +Roscommon's "Silenus" had formerly given me the same trouble. The +most ingenious Mr. Addison, of Oxford, has also been as troublesome +to me as the other two, and on the same account; after his bees my +latter swarm is scarcely worth the hiving. Mr. Cowley's praise of a +country life is excellent, but it is rather an imitation of Virgil +than a version. That I have recovered in some measure the health +which I had lost by too much application to this work, is owing +(next to God's mercy) to the skill and care of Dr. Guibbons and Dr. +Hobbs (the two ornaments of their profession), whom I can only pay +by this acknowledgment. The whole faculty has always been ready to +oblige me, and the only one of them who endeavoured to defame me had +it not in his power. I desire pardon from my readers for saying so +much in relation to myself which concerns not them; and with my +acknowledgments to all my subscribers, have only to add that the few +notes which follow are par maniere d'acquit, because I had obliged +myself by articles to do somewhat of that kind. These scattering +observations are rather guesses at my author's meaning in some +passages than proofs that so he meant. The unlearned may have +recourse to any poetical dictionary in English for the names of +persons, places, or fables, which the learned need not, but that +little which I say is either new or necessary, and the first of +these qualifications never fails to invite a reader, if not to +please him. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Discourses on Satire and Epic Poetry, by Dryden + diff --git a/old/dscep10.zip b/old/dscep10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b64e2e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/dscep10.zip |
