The Subjects of Pastoral are as various as the Passions of human Nature, nay, it may, in some measure, partake of every Kind of Poetry, but with this Proviso, that the Scene of it ought always to be in the Country, and the Thoughts never contrary to those that are bred there. Some of these short Strictures of Wit between contending Shepherds, favour something of Epigram: Thus in Virgil;
[251] Fraxinus in silvis pulcherrima, pinus in hortis, Populus in fluviis, abies in montibus altis: Sæpius at si me, Lycida formose, revisas; Fraxinus in silvis cedet tibi, pinus in hortis.
In Groves the Beech, in Gardens is the Pine Most beautiful; the Poplar near the Streams; On the high Mountain's Tops, the stately Fir. Yet, lovely Lycidas, if oft thou come To visit me; thou, beauteous, shalt excel The Pine in Gardens, and the Beech in Groves.
The second Eclogue is Elegiac, containing a Love Complaint; so is the latter Part of the fifth, bewailing the Death of Daphnis. The Songs, and Pipe, seem reducible to some Kind of Ode. And I see no Reason, why the third Eclogue may not be deem'd a short rural Comedy, representing the Manners, the Follies, little Tricks, and Quarrels of low Country Life; intermix'd, likewise, with various Strokes of Satire, many Examples of which we have elsewhere produced. Damon's Complaint; in the former Part of the eighth Eclogue, is tragical, and ends thus:
[252] Præceps aerii specula de montis in undas Deferar; extremum hoc munus morientis habeto.
From yon aerial Rock Headlong I'll plunge into the foamy Deep. Take this last Gift, which dying I bequeath.
But the Thoughts and Diction of the fourth Eclogue, I before observ'd, favour much of the Heroic.
The Pleasure that arises from this Kind of Poetry, is owing to those beautiful rural Scenes, which it represents; and to that innate Love, which human Nature, depraved as it is, still retains for its primitive Simplicity. Simplicity and the Country I join together, because in Fact they were both united. We are born with a Love for a Country Life, for Nature always pleases us more than Art, not only as it is prior to it in Point of Time, but as the Works of God are more perfect, and more various, than those of Men. Nay, Art itself is then most pleasing, when it represents Nature. Thus Architecture affects the Mind with less Pleasure and Wonder than Poetry, or its Sister Painting because that is the Effect of Art only, these of Nature likewise. And tho' it may be the Business of one Art to describe another, yet it never is so successfully employ'd, as when Nature sits for the Description. Thus, in Painting, the Prospect of a magnificent Structure is beautiful; but how much more agreeable is that which is diversified with Woods, Flowers, Rivers, Mountains, Cottages, Birds, Flocks, Herds, and Husbandmen? And how much would the Pleasure be still heighten'd, could the Picture convey to us the Fragrancy of Flowers, the Warbling of Birds, the Lowing of Oxen, the Bleating of Sheep, and all those other Gratifications that are the Objects, not of the Sight, but of the Hearing, and other Senses. Since Nature, then, and the Country, are the same, and Cities the Effect of Art and Refinement; it is no Wonder, if the former has the Preference. It pleads Prescription for our Choice; if we date our own Infancy from that of the World, we are all by Birth Inhabitants of the Fields and Woods: Thither, therefore, we naturally tend, and, as Ovid says, less justly, upon another Occasion,
[253] —documenta damus, qua simus origine nati.
Give Proofs of our Original.