who in Horace’s time had a great many Admirers as that Poet informs us, but at last they were entirely decry’d. And it must not be imagin’d that the Fall of these Authors, as well French as Latin, was owing to the Change of their Languages. The true Reason was, they did not know how to hit the Point of Solidity and Perfection in those Languages, which is necessary to make a Work last, and set a Value upon it for ever. In effect, the Latin Tongue, as it was written by Cicero and Virgil, was very much chang’d in Quintilian’s Time, and still more in the Time of Aulus Gellus. However Cicero and Virgil were then more esteem’d than even in their own Time, because they attain’d the height of Perfection, of which I have spoken. It is not therefore on account of the antiquated Words and Expressions in Ronsard, that Ronsard has lost the Reputation he once had, but because the Beauties which were thought to be in him, appear’d all at once to be no Beauties at all.
Thus we see, that in order to bring us to the degree of Perfection with which the Doctor flatters us by means of his new Academy, they must teach us first to think justly, to distinguish false Beauty from true, and glaring from Brightness, to banish those that write by Humour, and receive only such as aim at Solidity in their Writings. How the Celebrated Tale of a Tub will come off then with the best Judges, I can easily guess, that excellent Treatise being much of the same nature as Rabelais, of whom La Bruyere says, Rabelais is incomprehensible: His Book is an inexplicable Enigma, a meer Chimera; It has a Woman’s Face, with the Feet and Tail of a Serpent, or some Beast more deform’d. ’Tis a Monstrous Collection of Political and Ingenious Morality, with a Mixture of Beastliness; where ’tis bad ’tis abominable, and fit for the Diversion of the Rabble, and where ’tis good ’tis exquisite, and may entertain the most delicate.
People very often apply those Faults to the Expression and Words which are originally in the thought. The Merit of such as write by Humour, Changes with the Mode, and their Language savouring of their Sentiments, must of course grow out of Fashion. Ronsard the French Poet was so far from writing ill French, that Pasquier thought the French Tongue in its Perfection in his Writings and yet upon the Appearance of Malherb and Bacan, he was no more read nor talk’d of; Whereas there were Authors before him, whose Writings are now in general Esteem, as Marot and St. Galais, for the kind of Poetry in which they excell’d, and their Stile is imitated for its Simplicity, by which la Fountain acquir’d his Fame.
Instances of this kind may be given in our own Tongue, which has improv’d in Refinement as much as the French. Our Shakespear shone on the Stage, with all the Qualities of a Dramatick Poet, and Diction in particular, when the French Stage was Barbarous. His Style has its Beauties now, and is newer than many who have since Writ, and for a while with Reputation.
Among all the various ways in which we of late have endeavour’d to endear our selves to the French, and make ’em forgive us for beating them so, nothing certainly will oblige ’em more than our affecting to imitate them in our Political Style. Of this Nature is that Novelty the Reverend Author has introduc’d into our Language, where the Term Prime Minister has no more a Place than Will and Pleasure. Pray who among the many Ministers Her Majesty is so happily serv’d by, does she Honour with that Name, and how comes it that Prime does not go with Precedence? What Law of ours Impowers any body to order our Language to be Inspected, and who is there that wou’d think himself oblig’d to obey him in it? Is there no difference between the Ministers of a Despotick Monarchy, and the Servants of a limited one, who have no Rule but the Law, and are as accountable to it as the vilest of their Flatterers. We see how our Tongue would be improv’d and enlarg’d, had the Doctor and his Brethren the ordering of it. He has already impos’d on us the Court Style of France, and their Politicks wou’d soon come after it. He pastes a particular Compliment on our Tongue and his Patron, that they have not Merit enough to subsist a Hundred Years without mending. As bad as our English is, I’ll engage it will subsist in the History of another great Man of this Nation, as long as the Names of Edward the III. or Henry V. shall be remembred in Britain. There being some Characters so illustrious that without the Ornaments of Stile or the Beauties of Wit, they Shine in their Native Dress, and make every thing look Glorious about them. Others there are which require all the Advantages of Language and Invention, and darken every Thing that comes near them. The best of it is, the Contempt with which he treats the English Tongue, is not like to do it any harm, for whatever becomes of any ones History a Hundred Years hence, the Doctor’s will certainly be of much shorter Date, unless his Censurers should preserve the Memory of him, or he thinks fit to own at last some other of his Productions, when ’tis probable Fortune has done her best or her worst for him.
I have several very good Reasons why, if I were to be of this Academy, I would banish the word Dozen out of our Dictionary, and the Doctor has no doubt his to be fond of it, and fixing it there for ever. The French King says he has given about half a dozen Pensions to Learned Men in several Parts of Europe, and perhaps a dozen in his own Kingdom; which, he said, purely out of Affection to the Word Dozen, because he knew full well the French King bestows Pensions on a Hundred Men in several Parts of Europe; and on a Thousand in his own Kingdom, who excel in Arts and Literature, which, including the whole, do not amount to half the Income of many a Private Commoner in England. Whereas I will engage to name Him a Hundred Pensions in France that have been given to Men of Letters, every one of which shall amount to more than half the Income of a dozen Lords, let me have the naming of them too. The History of his Reign, which has been so long Writing, has cost him near threescore Thousand Pounds Sterling. Boileau himself, after he had liv’d a Life of Affluence and Pleasure, keeping a Country-House and City-House, dy’d worth above Five or Six Thousand Pounds, which he had wholly from the King. Not to mention the Rewards Racine, Valincourt, and other Poets and Historians had, who were imployed about his History; Nor those to all Academies of Sciences founded by him, and the great Pensions he allow’d the Professors. The prodigious Expences he has been at in Printing only at the Louvre, would perhaps amount to a Sum equal to the whole Income of several Dozens that might be thought of above the Rank of Commoners.
The last Pages of the Doctor’s Book are incomparable, full of most delicate Eulogy in the World, which I cannot read without calling to mind that Verse of Despreaux to Monsieur Seignelai.
Tout Eloge imposteur blesse une ame sincere.
To paint a Mecænas like a Mars, and confound Men’s Qualities, is a Stale Practice of sorded Flatterers, which Men of Merit reject with Disdain.
Un Cœur Noble est content de ce qu’il trouve en lui.