Q. HORATII FLACCI EPISTOLA AD PISONES.

The work of Horace, now under consideration, has been so long known, and so generally received, by the name of The Art of Poetry, that I have, on account of that notoriety, submitted this translation to the Publick, under that title, rather than what I hold to be the true one, viz. Horace's Epistle to The Pisos. The Author of the English Commentary has adopted the same title, though directly repugnant to his own system; and, I suppose, for the very same reason.

The title, in general a matter of indifference, is, in the present instance, of much consequence. On the title Julius Scaliger founded his invidious, and injudicious, attack. De arte quares quid sentiam. Quid? eqvidem quod de arte, sine arte traditâ. To the Title all the editors, and commentators, have particularly adverted; commonly preferring the Epistolary Denomination, but, in contradiction to that preference, almost universally inscribing the Epistle, the Art of Poetry. The conduct, however, of Jason De Nores, a native of Cyprus, a learned and ingenious writer of the 16th century, is very remarkable. In the year 1553 he published at Venice this work of Horace, accompanied with a commentary and notes, written in elegant Latin, inscribing it, after Quintilian, Q. Horatii Flacci Liber De Arte Poetica. [Foot note: I think it right to mention that I have never seen the 1st edition, published at Venice. With a copy of the second edition, printed in Paris, I was favoured by Dr. Warton of Winchester.] The very-next year, however, he printed at Paris a second edition, enriching his notes with many observations on Dante and Petrarch, and changing the title, after mature consideration, to Q. Horatii Flacii EPISTOLA AD PISONES, de Arte Poeticâ. His motives for this change he assigns in the following terms.

Quare adductum me primum sciant ad inscriptionem operis immutandam non levioribus de causis,& quod formam epistolae, non autem libri, in quo praecepta tradantur, vel ex ipso principio prae se ferat, & quod in vetustis exemplaribus Epistolarum libros subsequatur, & quad etiam summi et praestantissimi homines ita sentiant, & quod minimè nobis obstet Quintiliani testimonium, ut nonnullis videtur. Nam si librum appellat Quintilianus, non est cur non possit inter epistolas enumerari, cum et illae ab Horatio in libros digestae fuerint. Quod vero DE ARTE POETICA idem Quintilianus adjangat, nihil commaveor, cum et in epistolis praecepta de aliquâ re tradi possint, ab eodemque in omnibus penè, et in iis ad Scaevam & Lollium praecipuè jam factum videatur, in quibus breviter eos instituit, qua ratione apud majores facile versarentur.

Desprez, the Dauphin Editor, retains both titles, but says, inclining to the Epistolary, Attamen artem poeticam vix appellem cum Quintiliano et aliis: malim vero epistolam nuncupare cum nonnullis eruditis. Monsieur Dacier inscribes it, properly enough, agreable to the idea of Porphyry, Q. Horatii Flacci DE ARTE POETICA LIBER; feu, EPISTOLA AD PISONES, patrem, et filios._

Julius Scaliger certainly stands convicted of critical malice by his poor cavil at the supposed title; and has betrayed his ignorance of the ease and beauty of Epistolary method, as well as the most gross misapprehension, by his ridiculous analysis of the work, resolving it into thirty-six parts. He seems, however, to have not ill conceived the genius of the poem, in saying that it relished satire. This he has urged in many parts of his Poeticks, particularly in the Dedicatory Epistle to his son, not omitting, however, his constant charge of Art without Art. Horatius artem cum inscripsit, adeo sine ulla docet arte, ut satyrae propius totum opus illud esse videatur. This comes almost home to the opinion of the Author of the elegant commentaries on the two Epistles of Horace to the Pisos and to Augustus, as expressed in the Dedication to the latter: With the recital of that opinion I shall conclude this long note. "The genius of Rome was bold and elevated: but Criticism of any kind, was little cultivated, never professed as an art, by this people. The specimens we have of their ability in this way (of which the most elegant, beyond all dispute, are the two epistles to Augustus and the Pisos) are slight occasional attempts, made in the negligence of common sense, and adapted to the peculiar exigencies of their own taste and learning; and not by any means the regular productions of art, professedly bending itself to this work, and ambitious to give the last finishing to the critical system."

[Translated from Horace.] In that very entertaining and instructive publication, entitled An Essay on the Learning and Genius of Pope, the Critick recommends, as the properest poetical measure to render in English the Satires and Epistles of Horace, that kind of familiar blank verse, used in a version of Terence, attempted some years since by the Author of this translation. I am proud of the compliment; yet I have varied from the mode prescribed: not because Roscommon has already given such a version; or because I think the satyrical hexameters of Horace less familiar than the irregular lambicks of Terence. English Blank Verse, like the lambick of Greece and Rome, is peculiarly adapted to theatrical action and dialogue, as well as to the Epick, and the more elevated Didactick Poetry: but after the models left by Dryden and Pope, and in the face of the living example of Johnson, who shall venture to reject rhime in the province of Satire and Epistle?

9.—TRUST ME, MY PISOS!] Credite Pisones!

Monsieur Dacier, at a very early period, feels the influence of the personal address, that governs this Epistle. Remarking on this passage, he observes that Horace, anxious to inspire _the Pisos _with a just taste, says earnestly _Trust me, my Pisos! Credite Pisones! _an expression that betrays fear and distrust, lest _the young Men _should fall into the dangerous error of bad poets, and injudicious criticks, who not only thought the want of unity of subject a pardonable effect of Genius, but even the mark of a rich and luxuriant imagination. And although this Epistle, continues Monsieur Dacier, is addressed indifferently to Piso the father, and his Sons, as appears by v. 24 of the original, yet it is _to the sons in particular _that these precepts are directed; a consideration which reconciles the difference mentioned by Porphyry. Scribit ad Pisones, viros nobiles disertosque, patrem et filios; vel, ut alii volunt, ad pisones fratres.

Desprez, the Dauphin Editor, observes also, in the same strain, Porro _scribit Horatius ad patrem et ad filios Pisones, _praesertim vero ad hos.

The family of the Pisos, to whom Horace addresses this Epistle, were called Calpurnii, being descended from Calpus, son of Numa Pompilius, whence, he afterwards stiles them of the Pompilian Blood. Pompilius Sanguis!

10.—THE VOLUME SUCH] Librum persimilem. Liber, observes Dacier, is a term applied to all literary productions, of whatever description. This remark is undoubtedly just, confirms the sentiments of Jason de Nores, and takes off the force of all the arguments founded on Quintilian's having stiled his Epistle LIBER de arte poetica.

Vossius, speaking of the censure of Scaliger, "de arte, sine arte," subsoins sed fallitur, cum [Greek: epigraphaen] putat esse ab Horatio; qui inscipserat EPISTOLAM AD PISONES. Argumentum vero, ut in Epistolarum raeteris, ita in bâc etiam, ab aliis postea appositum fuit.

l9.——OFT WORKS OF PROMISE LARGE, AND HIGH ATTEMPT.] Incaeptis gra- nibus plerumque, &c. Buckingham's Essay on Poetry, Roscommon's Essay on Translated Verse, as well as the Satires, and Art Poetique of Boileau, and Pope's Essay on Criticism, abound with imitations of Horace. This passage of our Author seems to have given birth to the following lines of Buckingham.

'Tis not a slash of fancy, which sometimes,
Dazzling our minds, sets off the slighted rhimes;
Bright as a blaze, but in a moment done;
True Wit is everlasting, like the Sun;
Which though sometimes behind a cloud retir'd,
Breaks out again, and is the more admir'd.

The following lines of Pope may perhaps appear to bear a nearer resemblance this passage of Horace.

Some to Conceit alone their taste confine,
And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line;
Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit;
One glaring chaos, and wild heap of wit.

Essay on Criticism.

49.—-Of th' Aemilian class ] Aemilium circa ludum—literally, near the Aemilian School; alluding to the Academy of Gladiators of Aemilius Lentulus, in whose neighbourhood lived many Artists and Shopkeepers.

This passage also is imitated by Buckingham.

Number and Rhime, and that harmonious found,
Which never does the ear with harshness wound,
Are necessary, yet but vulgar arts;
For all in vain these superficial parts
Contribute to the structure of the whole
Without a Genius too; for that's the Soul:
A Spirit which inspires the work throughout
As that of Nature moves the world about.

Essay on Poetry.

Pope has given a beautiful illustration of this thought,

Survey THE WHOLE, nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;
In wit, as Nature, what affects our hearts,
Is not th' exactness of peculiar parts;
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all.
Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome,
(The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!)
No single parts unequally surprise,
All comes united to th' admiring eyes;
No monstrous height, or breadth, or length appear;
THE WHOLE at once is bold and regular.

Essay on Criticism.

56.—SELECT, ALL YE WHO WRITE, A SUBJECT FIT] Sumite materiam, &c.

This passage is well imitated by Roscommon in his Essay on Translated
Verse.

The first great work, (a task perform'd by few) Is, that yourself may to yourself be true: No mask, no tricks, no favour, no reserve! Dissect your mind, examine ev'ry nerve. Whoever vainly on his strength depends, Begins like Virgil, but like Maevius ends.

* * * * *

Each poet with a different talent writes,
One praises, one instructs, another bites.
Horace did ne'er aspire to Epick Bays,
Nor lofty Maro stoop to Lyrick Lays.
Examine how your humour is inclin'd,
And which the ruling passion of your mind:
Then, seek a Poet who your way does bend,
And chuse an Author as you chuse a friend.
United by this sympathetick bond,
You grow familiar, intimate, and fond;
Your thoughts, your words your stiles, your Souls agree,
No longer his interpreter, but He.

Stooping to Lyrick Lays, though not inapplicable to some of the lighter odes of Horace, is not descriptive of the general character of the Lyrick Muse. Musa dedit Fidibus Divas &c.

Pope takes up the same thought in his Essay on Criticism.

Be sure yourself and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, taste, and learning go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet,
And mark that point where sense and dulness meet.

* * * * *

Like Kings we lose the conquests gain'd before,
By vain ambition still to make them more:
Each might his servile province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.

71.—A cunning phrase.] Callida junctura.

Jason de Nores and many other interpreters agree that Horace here recommends, after Aristotle, the artful elevation of style by the use of common words in an uncommon sense, producing at once an air of familiarity and magnificence. Some however confine the expression, callida junctura, to signify compound words. The Author of the English Commentary adopts the first construction; but considers the precept in both senses, and illustrates each by many beautiful examples from the plays of Shakespeare. These examples he has accompanied with much elegant and judicious observation, as the reader of taste will be convinced by the following short extracts.

"The writers of that time had so latinized the English language, that the pure English Idiom, which Shakespeare generally follows, has all the air of novelty, which other writers are used to affect by foreign phraseology.—In short, the articles here enumerated are but so many ways of departing from the usual and simpler forms of speech, without neglecting too much the grace of ease and perspicuity; in which well-tempered licence one of the greatest charms of all poetry, but especially of Shakespeare's poetry, consists. Not that he was always and every where so happy. His expression sometimes, and by the very means, here exemplified, becomes hard, obscure, and unnatural. This is the extreme on the other side. But in general, we may say, that He hath either followed the direction of Horace very ably, or hath hit upon his rule very happily."

76.—THE STRAIT-LAC'D CETHEGI.] CINCTUTIS Cethegis. Jason de Nores differs, and I think very justly, from those who interpret Cinctutis to signify loose, bare, or naked—EXERTOS & NUDOS. The plain sense of the radical word cingo is directly opposite. The word cinctutis is here assumed to express a severity of manners by an allusion to an antique gravity of dress; and the Poet, adds de Nores, very happily forms a new word himself, as a vindication and example of the licence he recommends. Cicero numbers M. Corn. Cethegus among the old Roman Orators; and Horace himself again refers to the Cethegi in his Epistle to Florus, and on the subject of the use of words.

Obscurata diu papula bonus eruet, atque
Proseret in lucem speciosa vocabula rer*um;
***need a Latin speaker to check this out***
Quae priscis memorata CATONIBUS atque CETHEGIS,
Nunc situs informis premit & deserta vetustas;
Adsciscet nova quae genitor produxerit usus.

Mark where a bold expressive phrase appears,
Bright thro' the rubbish of some hundred years;
Command old words that long have slept, to wake,
Words, that wife Bacon, or brave Raleigh spake;
Or bid the new be English, ages hence,
For Use will father what's begot by Sense.

POPE.

This brilliant passage of Pope is quoted in this place by the author of that English Commentary, who has also subjoined many excellent remarks on the revival of old words, worthy the particular attention of those who cultivate prose as well as poetry, and shewing at large, that "the riches of a language are actually increased by retaining its old words: and besides, they have often a greater real weight and dignity, than those of a more fashionable cast, which succeed to them. This needs no proof to such as are versed in the earlier writings of any language."—"The growing prevalency of a very different humour, first catched, as it should seem, from our commerce with the French Models, and countenanced by the too scrupulous delicacy of some good writers amongst ourselves, bad gone far towards unnerving the noblest modern language, and effeminating the public taste."—"The rejection of old words, as barbarous, and of many modern ones, as unpolite," had so exhausted the strength and stores of our language, that it was high time for some master-hand to interpose, and send us for supplies to our old poets; which there is the highest authority for saying, no one ever despised, but for a reason, not very consistent with his credit to avow: rudem esse omnino in nostris poetis, aut inertissimae nequitiae est, aut fastidii delicatissimi.— Cic. de fin. 1. i. c. 2.

[As woods endure, &c.] Ut silvae foliis, &c. Mr. Duncombe, in his translation of our Author, concurs with Monsieur Dacier in observing that "Horace seems here to have had in view that fine similitude of Homer in the sixth book of the Iliad, comparing the generations of men to the annual succession of leaves.

[Greek:
Oipaeer phyllon genehn, toiaede ch ahndron.
phylla ta mehn t anemohs chamahdis cheei, ahllah de thula
Taeletheasa phyei, earos depigigyel(*)ai orae
Oz andron genen. aemen phnei, aeh dahpolaegei.]

"Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
Another race the following spring supplies,
They fall successive, and successive rise:
So generations in their turns decay;
So flourish these, when those are past away."

The translator of Homer has himself compared words to leaves, but in another view, in his Essay on Criticism.

Words are like leaves; and where they most abound,
Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found.

In another part of the Essay he persues the same train of thought with
Horace, and rises, I think, above his Master.

Short is the date, alas, of modern rhymes,
And 'tis but just to let them live betimes.
No longer now that golden age appears,
When Patriarch-wits surviv'd a thousand years;
Now length of Fame (our second life) is lost,
And bare threescore is all ev'n that can boast;
Our sons their father's failing language see,
And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.
So when the faithful pencil has design'd
Some bright idea of the Master's mind,
Where a new world leaps out at his command,
And ready Nature waits upon his hand;
When the ripe colours soften and unite,
And sweetly melt into just shade and light;
When mellowing years their full perfection give,
And each bold figure just begins to live;
The treach'rous colours the fair art betray,
And all the bright creation fades away!

Essay an Criticism.

95.—WHETHER THE SEA, &c.] Sive receptus, &c.

This may be understood of any harbour; but it is generally interpreted to refer to the Portus Julius, a haven formed by letting in the sea upon the Lucrine Lake, and forming a junction between that and the Lake Avernus; a work, commenced by Julius Caesar, and compleated by Augustus, or Agrippa under his auspices. Regis opus! Both these lakes (says Martin) were in Campania: the former was destroyed by an earthquake; but the latter is the present Lago d'Averno. Strabo, the Geographer, who, as well as our Poet, was living at the time, ascribes this work to Agrippa, and tells us that the Lucrine bay was separated from the Tyrrhene sea by a mound, said to have been first made by Hercules, and restored by Agrippa. Philargyrius says that a storm arose at the time of the execution of this great work, to which Virgil seems to refer in his mention of this Port, in the course of his Panegyrick on Italy in the second Georgick.

An memorem portus Lucrinoque addita claustra,
Atque indignatem magnis strideribus aequor,
Julia qua ponto longe sonat unda refuso,
Tyrrbenusque fretis immittitur aeflut AVERNIS?

Or shall I praise thy Ports, or mention make
Of the vast mound, that binds the Lucrine Lake?
Or the disdainful sea, that, shut from thence,
Roars round the structure, and invades the fence;
There, where secure the Julian waters glide,
Or where Avernus' jaws admit the Tyrrhene tide?
DRYDEN.

98.—WHETHER THE MARSH, &c. Sterilisve Palus.]

THE PONTINE MARSH, first drained by the Consul Cornelius Cethegus; then, by Augustus; and many, many years after by Theodorick.

102.—OR IF THE RIVER, &c.] Sen cursum, &c. The course of the Tyber, changed by Augustus, to prevent inundations.

110.—FOR DEEDS OF KINGS, &c.] Res gestae regumque, &c.

The ingenious author of the English Commentary, to whom I have so often referred, and to whom I must continue to refer, has discovered particular taste, judgement, and address, in his explication of this part of the Epistle. runs thus.

"From reflections on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to particulars: the most obvious of which being the different forms and measures of poetick composition, he considers, in this view, [from v. 75 to 86] the four great species of poetry, to which all others may be reduced, the Epick, Elegiack, Dramatick, and Lyrick. But the distinction of the measure, to be observed in the several species is so obvious, that there can scarcely be any mistake about them. The difficulty is to know [from v. 86 to 89] how far each may partake of the spirit of the other, without destroying that natural and necessary difference, which ought to subsist betwixt them all. To explain this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from v. 89 to 99] the case of Dramatick Poetry; the two species of which are as distinct from each other, as any two can be, and yet there are times, when the features of the one will be allowed to resemble those of the other.—But the Poet had a further view in choosing this instance. For he gets by this means into the main of his subject, which was Dramatick Poetry, and, by the most delicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from 89 to 323] to deliver a series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, and enlivened by digressions, for the regulation of the Roman stage."

It is needless to insist, that my hypothesis will not allow me to concur entirely in the latter part of this extract; at least in that latitude, to which; the system of the writer carries it: yet I perfectly agree with Mr. Duncombe, that the learned Critick, in his observations on this Epistle, "has shewn, in general, the connection and dependence of one part with another, in a clearer light than any other Commentator." His shrewd and delicate commentary is, indeed, a most elegant contrast to the barbarous analysis of Scaliger, drawn up without the least idea of poetical transition, and with the uncouth air of a mere dry logician, or dull grammarian. I think, however, the Order and Method, observed in this Epistle, is stricter than has yet been observed, and that the series of rules is delivered with great regularity; NOT enlivened by digressions, but passing from one topick to another, by the most natural and easy transitions. The Author's discrimination of the different stiles of the several species of poetry, leads him, as has been already shewn, to consider the diction of the Drama, and its accommodation to the circumstances and character of the Speaker. A recapitulation of these circumstances carries him to treat of the due management of characters already known, as well as of sustaining those that are entirely original; to the first of which the Poet gives the preference, recommending known characters, as well as known subjects: And on the mention of this joint preference, the Author leaves further consideration of the diction, and slides into discourse upon the fable, which he continues down to the 152d verse.

Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,
Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Having dispatched the fable, the Poet proceeds, and with some Solemnity of Order, to the consideration of the characters; not in regard to suitable diction, for of that he has already spoken, but in respect to the manners; and, in this branch of his subject, he has as judiciously borrowed from the Rhetoricks of Aristotle, as in the rest of his Epistle from the Poeticks. He then directs, in its due place, the proper conduct of particular incidents of the fable; after which he treats of the chorus; from whence he naturally falls into the history of theatrical musick; which is, as naturally, succeeded by an account of the Origin of the Drama, itself, which the Poet commences, like master Aristotle, even from the Dithyrambick Song, and carries it down to the establishment of the New Greek Comedy; from whence he passes easily and gracefully, to the Roman stage, acknowledging the merits of the Writers, but pointing out their defects, and assigning the causes. He then subjoins a few general observations, and concludes his long discourse on the drama, having extended it to 275 lines. This discourse, together with the result of all his reflections on Poets and Poetry, he then applies in the most earnest and personal manner to the elder Piso; and with a long and most pathetick peroration, if I may adopt an oratorical term, concludes the Epistle.

116.—THE ELEGY'S SMALL SONG.] EXIGUOS Elegos.

Commentators differ concerning the import of this expression—exiguos Elegos, the Elegy's small song. De Nores, Schrevelius, and Desprez, think it refers to the humility of the elegiack stile and subjects, compared with epick or lyrick sublimity. Monsieur Dacier rather thinks that Horace refers here, as in the words Versibus impariter junctis, "Couplets unequal," to the use of pentameter, or short verse, consisting of five feet, and joined to the hexameter, or long verse, of six. This inequality of the couplet Monsieur Dacier justly prefers to the two long Alexandrines of his own country, which sets almost all the French poetry, Epick, Dramatick, Elegiack, or Satyrick, to the tune of Derry Down. In our language, the measures are more various, and more happily conceived. Our Elegy adopts not only unequal couplets, but alternate rhymes, which give a plaintive tone to the heroick measure, and are most happily used in Gray's beautiful _Elegy in a Country Church yard.

135.—THY FEAST, THYESTES!] Caena Thyestae.

The story of Thyestes being of the most tragick nature, a banquet on his own children! is commonly interpreted by the Criticks, as mentioned by Horace, in allusion to Tragedy in general. The Author of the English Commentary, however, is of a different opinion, supposing, from a passage of Cicero, that the Poet means to glance at the Thyestes of Ennius, and to pay an oblique compliment to Varius, who had written a tragedy on the same subject.

The same learned Critick also takes it for granted, that the Tragedy of Telephus, and probably of Peleus, after-mentioned, point at tragedies of Euripedes, on these subjects, translated into Latin, and accomodated to the Roman Stage, without success, by Ennius, Accius, or Naevius.

One of this Critick's notes on this part of the Epistle, treating on the use of pure poetry in the Drama, abounds with curious disquisition and refined criticism.

150.—They must have passion too.] dulcia sunto. The Poet, with great address, includes the sentiments under the consideration of diction.

Effert animi motus interprete lingua. Forces expression from the faithful tongue.

Buckingham has treated the subject of Dialogue very happily in his Essay on Poetry, glancing, but not servilely, at this part of Horace.

Figures of Speech, which Poets think so fine,
Art's needless varnish to make Nature shine,
Are all but Paint upon a beauteous face,
And in Descriptions only claim a place.
But to make Rage declaim, and Grief discourse,
From lovers in despair fine things to force,
Must needs succeed; for who can chuse but pity
A dying hero miserably witty?

201.——BE NOT YOUR OPENING FIERCE!] Nec sic incipies, Most of the Criticks observe, that all these documents, deduced from the Epick, are intended, like the reduction of the Iliad into acts, as directions and admonition to the Dramatick writer. Nam si in EPOPaeIA, que gravitate omnia poematum generae praecellit, ait principium lene esse debere; quanto magis in tragoedia et comoedia, idem videri debet? says de Nores. Praeceptum de intio grandiori evitaado, quod tam epicus quam tragicus cavere debet; says the Dauphin Editor. Il faut se souvenir qu' Horace appliqae à la Tragedie les regies du Poeme Epique. Car si ces debuts eclatans sont ridicules dans la Poeme Epique, ils le sont encore plus dans la Tragedie: says Dacier. The Author of the English Commentary makes the like observation, and uses it to enforce his system of the Epistle's being intended as a Criticism on the Roman drama. [ xviii] 202—-Like the rude ballad-monger's chant of old] ut scriptor cyclicus olim.] Scriptor cyclicus signisies an itinerant Rhymer travelling, like Shakespeare's Mad Tom, to wakes, and fairs, and market-towns. 'Tis not precisely known who was the Cyclick Poet here meant. Some have ascribed the character to Maevius, and Roscommon has adopted that idea.

Whoever vainly on his strength depends,
Begins like Virgil, but like Maevius ends:
That Wretch, in spite of his forgotten rhimes,
Condemn'd to live to all succeeding times,
With pompous nonsense, and a bellowing sound,
Sung lofty Ilium, tumbling to the ground,
And, if my Muse can thro' past ages fee,
That noisy, nauseous, gaping fool was he;
Exploded, when, with universal scorn,
The Mountains labour'd, and a Mouse was born.

Essay on Translated Verse.

The pompous exordium of Statius is well known, and the fragments of
Ennius present us a most tremendous commencement of his Annals.

horrida romoleum certamina pango duellum! this is indeed to split our ears asunder With guns, drums, trumpets, blunderbuss, and thunder!

211.—Say, Muse, the Man, &c.] Homer's opening of the Odyssey. his rule is perhaps no where so chastely observed as in the Paradise Lost. Homer's [Greek: Maenin aeide thea]! or, his [Greek: Andra moi ennepe,Mgsa]! or, Virgil's Arma, Urumque cano! are all boisterous and vehement, in comparison with the calmness and modesty of Milton's meek approach,

Of Man's first disobedience, &c.

2l5.—Antiphates, the Cyclops, &c].- Antiphatem, Scyllamque, & cum Cyclope Charybdim. Stories, that occur in the Odyssey. 218-19—Diomed's return—the Double Egg.]

The return of Diomede is not mentioned by Homer, but is said to be the subject of a tedious Poem by Antimachus; and to Stasimus is ascribed a Poem, called the Little Iliad, beginning with the nativity of Helen.

227.—Hear now!] Tu, quid ego, &c.

This invocation, says Dacier justly, is not addressed to either of the
Pisos, but to the Dramatick Writer generally.

229.—-The Cloth goes down.] Aulaea manentis. This is translated according to modern manners; for with the Antients, the Cloth was raised at the Conclusion of the Play. Thus in Virgil's Georgicks;

Vel scena ut versis disceedat frontibus, atque
Purpurea intexti tollant aulaea Britanni.

Where the proud theatres disclose the scene;
Which interwoven Britons seem to raise;
And shew the triumph which their shame displays.

Dryden

230.—Man's several ages, &c.] aetatis cujusque, &c. Jason Demores takes notice of the particular stress, that Horace lays on the due discrimination of the several Ages, by the solemnity with which he introduces the mention of them: The same Critick subjoins a note also, which I shall transcribe, as it serves to illustrate a popular passage in the As you Like It of Shakespeare.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts:
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms:
And then, the whining school-boy with his satchel,
And shining morning-face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel;
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes,
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Animadverti a plerisque hominis aetatem in septem divisam esse partes, infantiam, pueritiam, adolescentiam, juventutem, virilitatem, senectutem, & ut ab illis dicitur, decrepitatem. In hâc verò parte nihil de infantiae moribus Horatius, cum nihil ea aetas praeter vagitum habeat proprium, ideòque infantis persona minimè in scenâ induci possit, quòd ipsas rerum voces reddere neque dum sciat, neque valeat. Nihil de moribus item hujus aetatis, quam, si latinè licet, decrepitatem vocabimus, quae aetas quodammodo infantiae respondet: de juventute autem & adolescentia simul pertractat, quòd et studiis, et naturâ, & voluntate, parum, aut nihil inter se differant. Aristoteles etiam in libris ad Theodectem omisit & pueritiam, & meritò; cum minime apud pueros, vel de pueris sit orator habiturus orationem. Ille enim ad hoc ex aetate personarum differentiam adhibet, ut instituat oratorem, quomodo moratâ uti debeat oratione, id est, eorum moribus, apud quos, & de quibus loquitur, accommodatâ.

It appears from hence, that it was common for the writers of that time, as well as Shakespeare's Jaques, to divide the life of Man into seven ages, viz. Infancy, Childhood, Puberty, Youth, Manhood, Old Age, and Decrepitude; "which last, (says Denores) in some sort answers to Infancy," or, as Shakespeare expresses it, IS second childishness.

"Before Shakespeare's time," says Warburton, "seven acts was no unusual division of a play, so that there is a greater beauty than appears at first sight in this image." Mr. Steevens, however, informs us that the plays of that early period were not divided into acts at all. It is most probable therefore that Shakespeare only copied the moral philosophy (the Socraticae chartae) of his own day, adapting it, like Aristotle and Horace, to his own purpose; and, I think, with more felicity, than either of his illustrious predecessors, by contriving to introduce, and discriminate, every one of the seven ages. This he has effected by assigning station and character to some of the stages, which to Aristotle and Horace appeared too similar to be distinguished from each other. Thus puberty, youth, manhood, and old age, become under Shakespeare's hand, the lover, the soldier, the justice, and the lean and flipper'd pantaloon; while the natural qualities of the infant, the boy, and the dotard, afford sufficient materials for poetical description.

262.—Thus years advancing many comforts bring, and flying bear off many on their wing.]

Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum, multa recedentes adimunt.

Aristotle considers the powers of the body in a state of advancement till the 35th year, and the faculties of the mind progressively improving till the 49th; from which periods they severally decline. On which circumstance, applied to this passage of Horace, Jason de Nores elegantly remarks, Vita enim nostra videtur ad virilitatem usque, quâ in statu posita est, quendam quasi pontem aetatis ascendere, ab eâque inde descendere. Whether Addison ever met with the commentary of De Nores, it is perhaps impossible to discover. But this idea of the ascent and declivity of the bridge of human life, strongly reminds us of the delightful vision of mirza.

288.—An actor's part the Chorus should sustain.] Actoris partes Chorus, &c.

"See also Aristotle [Greek*: oes. ooiaet. k. iae.] The judgment of two such critics, and the practice of wise antiquity, concurring to establish this precept concerning the Chorus, it should thenceforth, one would think, have become a fundamental rule and maxim of the stage. And so indeed it appeared to some few writers. The most admired of the French tragic poets ventured to introduce it into two of his latter plays, and with such success that, as one observes, It should, in all reason, have disabused his countrymen on this head: l'essai heureux de M. Racine, qui les [choeurs] a fait revivre dans athalie _et dans esther, devroit, il semble, nous avoir detrompez sur cet article._ [P. Brumoi, vol. i. p. 105.] And, before him, our Milton, who, with his other great talents, possessed a supreme knowledge of antiquity, was so struck with its use and beauty, as to attempt to bring it into our language. His Sampson Agonistes was, as might be expected, a master- piece. But even his credit hath not been sufficient to restore the Chorus. Hear a late Professor of the art declaring, _De _Choro nihil disserui, quia non est essentialis dramati, atque à neotericis penitus, et, me judice, merito repudiatur. [Prael. Poet. vol. ii. p. 188.] Whence it hath come to pass that the chorus hath been thus neglected is not now the enquiry. But that this critic, and all such, are greatly out in their judgments, when they presume to censure it in the ancients, must appear (if we look no further) from the double use, insisted on by the poet, For, 1. A _chorus _interposing, and bearing a part in the progress of the action, gives the representation that probability, [Footnote: Quel avantage ne peut il [le poete] pas tirer d'une troupe d'acteurs, qui remplissent sa scene, qui rendant plus sense la continuité de l'action qui la sont paroitre VRAISEMBLABLE puisqu'il n'est pas naturel qu'elle sa passe sans point. On ne sent que trop le vuide de notre Théatre sans choeurs. &c. [Les Théatre des Grècs. i. p. 105 ] and striking resemblance of real life, which every man of sense perceives, and feels the want of upon our stage; a want, which nothing but such an expedient as the chorus can possibly relieve. And, 2. The importance of its other office [l. 196] to the _utility _of the representation, is so great, that, in a moral view, nothing can compensate for this deficiency. For it is necessary to the truth and decorum of characters, that the manners, bad as well as good, be drawn in strong, vivid colours; and to that end that immoral sentiments, forcibly expressed and speciously maintained, be sometimes _imputed _to the speakers. Hence the sound philosophy of the chorus will be constantly wanting, to rectify the wrong conclusions of the audience, and prevent the ill impressions that might otherwise be made upon it. Nor let any one say, that the audience is well able to do this for itself: Euripides did not find even an Athenian theatre so quick-sighted. The story is well known, [Sen. Ep. 115.] that when this painter of the _manners _was obliged, by the rules of his art, and the character to be sustained, to put a run of bold sentiments in the mouth of one of his persons, the people instantly took fire, charging the poet with the _imputed _villainy, as though it had been his own. Now if such an audience could so easily misinterpret an attention to the truth of character into the real doctrine of the poet, and this too, when a Chorus was at hand to correct and disabuse their judgments, what must be the case, when the _whole _is left to the sagacity and penetration of the people? The wiser sort, it is true, have little need of this information. Yet the reflexions of sober sense on the course and occurrences of the representation, clothed in the noblest dress of poetry, and enforced by the joint powers of harmony and action (which is the true character of the Chorus) might make it, even to such, a no unpleasant or unprofitable entertainment. But these two are a small part of the uses of the chorus; which in every light is seen so important to the truth, decorum, and dignity of the tragic scene, that the modern stage, which hath not thought proper to adopt it, is even, with the advantage of, sometimes, the justest moral painting and sublimest imagery, but a very faint shadow of the old; as must needs appear to those who have looked into the ancient models, or, diverting themselves of modern prejudices, are disposed to consult the dictates of plain sense. For the use of such, I once designed to have drawn into one view the several important benefits arising to the drama from the observance of this rule, but have the pleasure to find myself prevented by a sensible dissertation of a good French writer, which the reader will find in the VIII tom. of the History of the Academy of Inscriptions end Belles Lettres.—Or, it may be sufficient to refer the English reader to the late tragedies of Elfrida and Caractacus; which do honour to modern poetry, and are a better apology, than any I could make, for the ancient Chorus.——Notes on the Art of Poetry.

Though it is not my intention to agitate, in this place, the long disputed question concerning the expediency, or inexpediency, of the Chorus, yet I cannot dismiss the above note without some farther observation. In the first place then I cannot think that the judgment of two such Criticks as Aristotle and Horace, can be decisively quoted, as concurring with the practice of wise antiquity, to establish the chorus. Neither of these two Criticks have taken up the question, each of them giving directions for the proper conduct of the Chorus, considered as an established and received part of Tragedy, and indeed originally, as they both tell us, the whole of it. Aristotle, in his Poeticks, has not said much on the subject and from the little he has said, more arguments might perhaps be drawn, in favour of the omission, than for the introduction of the Chorus. It is true that he says, in his 4th chapter, that "Tragedy, after many changes, paused, having gained its natural form:" [Greek transliteration: 'pollha': moiazolas metazalousa ae tragodia epausto, hepei hesche taen heauiaes phusin]. This might, at first sight, seem to include his approbation of the Chorus, as well as of all the other parts of Tragedy then in use: but he himself expressly tells us in the very same chapter, that he had no such meaning, saying, that "to enquire whether Tragedy be perfect in its parts, either considered in itself, or with relation to the theatre, was foreign to his present purpose." [Greek: To men oun epischopein, eiapa echei aedae hae tragodia tois ikanos, ae ou, auto te kath auto krinomenon, kai pros ta theatra, allos logos.]

In the passage from which Horace has, in the verses now before us, described the office, and laid down the duties of the CHORUS, the passage referred to by the learned Critick, the words of Aristotle are not particularly favourable to the institution, or much calculated to recommend the use of it. For Aristotle there informs us, "that Sophocles alone of all the Grecian writers, made the CHORUS conducive to the progress of the fable: not only even Euripides being culpable in this instance; but other writers, after the example of Agathon, introducing Odes as little to the purpose, as if they had borrowed whole scenes from another play."

[Greek: Kai ton chorus de ena dei upolazein tan upochriton. Kai morion einai tch olch, chai sunagonis*e mae osper par Euripidae, all osper para Sophochlei. Tois de loipois ta didomena mallon ta muthch, ae allaes Tragadias esi di o emzolima adchoi, protch arxanto Agrathonos tch toichtch Kai tch diaphsrei, ae aemzot ma adein, ae raesin ex allch eis allo armotteen, ae eteitodion oleos [per. poiaet. ch. iii.]

On the whole therefore, whatever may be the merits, or advantages of the CHORUS, I cannot think that the judgment of Aristotle or Horace can be adduced as recommendation of it. As to the probability given to the representation, by CHORUS interposing and bearing a part in the action; the Publick, who have lately in a troop of singers assembled on the stage, as a Chorus, during the whole of presentations of Elfrida and Caractacus, are competent to decide for themselves, how far such an expedient, gives a more striking resemblance of human life, than the common usage of our Drama. As to its importance in a moral view, to correct the evil impression of vicious sentiments, imputed to the speakers; the story told, to enforce its use for this purpose, conveys a proof of its efficacy. To give due force to sentiments, as well as to direct their proper tendency, depends on the skill and address of the Poet, independent of the Chorus,

Monsieur Dacier, as well as the author of the above note, censures the modern stage for having rejected the Chorus, and having lost thereby at least half its probability, and its greatest ornament; so that our Tragedy is but a very faint shadow of the old. Learned Criticks, however, do not, perhaps, consider, that if it be expedient to revive the Chorus, all the other parts of the antient Tragedy must be revived along with it. Aristotle mentions Musick as one of the six parts of Tragedy, and Horace no sooner introduces the CHORUS, but he proceeds to _the _pipe _and _lyre. If a Chorus be really necessary, our Dramas, like those of the antients, should be rendered wholly musical; the _Dancers _also will then claim their place, and the pretentions of Vestris and Noverre may be admitted as classical. Such a spectacle, if not more natural than the modern, would at least be consistent; but to introduce a groupe of spectatorial actors, speaking in one part of the Drama, and singing in another, is as strange and incoherent a medley, and full as unclassical, as the dialogue and airs of The Beggar's Opera!

290.—Chaunting no Odes between the acts, that seem unapt, _or _foreign _to the _general theme.]

Nec quid medios, &c.

On this passage the author of the English Commentary thus remarks. "How necessary this advice might be to the writers of the Augustan age cannot certainly appear; but, if the practice of Seneca may give room for suspicion, it should seem to have been much wanted; in whom I scarcely believe there is one single instance, _of the _Chorus being employed in a manner, consonant to its true end and character."

The learned Critick seems here to believe, and the plays under the name of Seneca in some measure warrant the conclusion, that _the _Chorus of the Roman Stage was not calculated to answer the ends of its institution. Aristotle has told us just the same thing, with an exception in favour of Sophocles, of the Grecian Drama. And are such surmises, or such information, likely to strengthen our prejudices on behalf of _the _CHORUS, or to inflame our desires for its revival?