I know not how to find an Excuse for. And it must be own'd, that Plautus often runs into these Puerilities; for which Reason, it is probable, he falls under the Censure of Horace:
[207] At proavi nostri Plautinos & numeros & Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque, (Ne dicam stulte) mirati.
'Tis true, as I have heard, the former Times Clapt Plautus' Jokes, and his uneven Rhimes. Creech.
And it can't be denied but Terence, and some of the best Writers, have some little Touches of this Epidemical Distemper. There are few of these Conceits but are merely equivocal, that is, vary as little in the Thought, as in the Expression; a sort of Collision, from whence, 'tis possible, some Sparks of Wit may sometimes, but very rarely, be struck out. Thus much I thought proper to lay before you, in Relation to the Elegance of Thought in Poetry, both true and false.
I have little Occasion to enlarge distinctly upon the Sublime, because many Things relating to it fell in with what I have before advanced. However, as this was one of the Topics I propos'd to treat of, it is necessary I should say somewhat to it, before I conclude this Dissertation. I cannot better explain to you the Nature of the Sublime, and the Manner of its affecting us, than by giving you the Sense of Longinus[208] upon it, not in a literal Version, but by representing the Substance of him in a few Words. Whence is it that Writers of this Class, in a divine Impetuosity seem regardless of Accuracy, and scorn to be confin'd within the vulgar Rules of Exactness? The Truth is, Nature has form'd Man of an inquisitive Genius, and plac'd him in the World to behold and admire the Wonders of it; not as an idle Spectator, but as one concern'd in its busiest Scenes, eager for Action, and panting after Glory. To this End, he is strongly actuated by a Love and Desire of every Thing that is great and divine. The vast Expanse of the Universe cannot bound his Imagination; he extends his Thoughts into other Worlds, and is lost only in Infinity.
[209] —Vivida vis animi pervincit, & extra Procedit longe flammantia mœnia mundi.
His vigorous and active Mind is hurl'd Beyond the seeming Limits of the World. Creech.
And, in Truth, if we contemplate a Hero, whose Life is one continu'd Series of great Actions, we then may make some Estimate of what we were born to. Hence, then, it is, that Fountains and Rivulets, which answer all the common Conveniencies of Life, never in a great Degree awaken our Attention. But when we view the Rhine, the Nile, the Danube, but, above all, the Ocean, we stand fix'd at once with Awe and Wonder. So again, without any Emotion, we behold the daily Fires, of our own making, how long soever they continue burning: But we gaze with Astonishment at any sudden Light in the Heavens, tho' it vanishes, perhaps, as soon as it appears. Nor is there any Thing more wonderful in Nature than the Eruptions of Mount Ætna, which sometimes discharges from its Caverns Stones, and Deluges of Fire:
[210] —Horrificis juxta tonat Ætna ruinis: Interdumque atram prorumpit ad æthera nubem, Turbine fumantem piceo, & candente favilla, Attollitque globos flammarum, & sidera lambit. Interdum scopulos, avulsaque viscera montis, Erigit eructans, liquefactaque saxa sub auras Cum gemitu glomerat, fundoque exæstuat imo.
But Ætna thunders nigh In dreadful Ruins. With a Whirlwind's Force Sometimes it throws to Heav'n a pitchy Cloud, Redden'd with Cinders, and involv'd in Smoke; And tosses Balls of Flame, and licks the Stars. Sometimes with loud Explosion high it hurls Vast Rocks, and Entrails from the Mountain torn, With roaring Noise slings molten Stones in Air, And boils, and bellows, from its lowest Caves.