But what then? an objector replies, these were venial faults, surely; the deficiencies of the times, and not of the men; who, with such incorrectnesses as are here noted, might still possess the greatest talents, and produce the noblest designs. This [from v. 69 to 79] is readily admitted. But, in the mean time, one thing was clear, that they were not finished models—exactis minimum distantia. Which was the main point in dispute. For the bigot’s absurdity lay in this,
Non veniam antiquis, sed honorem et praemia posci.
Nay, his folly is shewn to have gone still greater lengths. These boasted models of antiquity, with all their imperfections, had occasionally [v. 73, 74] though the instances were indeed rare and thinly scattered, striking beauties. These, under the recommendation of age, which, of course, commands our reverence, might well impose on the judgements of the generality, and standing forth with advantage, as from a shaded and dark ground, would naturally catch the eye and admiration of the more learned. Thus much the poet candidly insinuates in excuse of the bigot’s ill judgment. But, unluckily, he had cut himself off from the benefit of this plea, by avowedly grounding his admiration, not merely on the intrinsic excellence, so far as it went, of the ancient poetry itself; but on the advantage of any extraneous circumstance, which but casually stuck to it. The accident of a play’s having passed though the mouth, and been graced by the action, of a just speaker, was sufficient [from v. 79 to 83] (so inexcusable were his prejudices) to attract his wonder, and justify his esteem. In so much that it became an insolence, generally cried out upon, for any one to censure such pieces of the theatre,
Quae gravis Æsopus, quae doctus Roscius egit.
This being the case, it was no longer a doubt, whether the affected admiration of antiquity proceeded from a deluded judgment only, or a much worse cause. It could plainly be resolved into no other, than the willful agency of the malignant affections; which, wherever they prevail, corrupt the simple and ingenuous sense of the mind, either 1. [v. 83] in engendring high conceits of self, and referring all degrees of excellence to the supposed infallible standard of every man’s own judgment; or 2. [to v. 86] in creating a false shame, and reluctancy in us to be directed by the judgments of others, though seen to be more equitable, whenever they are found in opposition to our own rooted and preconceived opinions. The bigotry of old Men is, especially, for this reason, invincible. They hold themselves upbraided by the sharper sight of their juniors; and regard the adoption of new sentiments, at their years, as so much absolute loss on the side of the dead stock of their old literary possessions. These considerations are generally of such prevalency in great veteran critics, that [from v. 86 to 90] whenever, as in the case before us, they pretend an uncommon zeal for antiquity, and their sagacity piques itself on detecting the superior value of obscure rhapsodists whom no body else reads, or is able to understand, we may be sure the secret view of such, is, not the generous defence and patronage of ancient wit, but a low malevolent pleasure in decrying the just pretensions of the modern.
Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis,
Nostra sed impugnat, nos nostraque lividus odit.
The poet had, now, made appear the unreasonable attachment of his countrymen to the fame of their old writers. He had thoroughly unravelled the sophistical pretences, on which it affected to justify itself; and had even dared to unveil the secret iniquitous principle, from which it arose. It was now time to look forward to the effects of it; which were, in truth, very baleful; its poisonous influences being of force to corrupt and wither, as it were, in the bud, every rising species of excellence, and fatally to check the very hopes and tendencies of true genius. Nothing can be truer, than this remark; which he further enforces, and brings home to his adversaries, by asking a pertinent question, to which it concerned them to make a serious reply. They had magnified v. 28 the perfection of the Greek models. But what [to v. 93] if the Greeks had conceived the same aversion to novelties, as the Romans? How then could those models have ever been furnished to the public use? The question, we see, insinuates what was before affirmed to be the truth of the case; that the unrivalled excellence of the Greek poets proceeded only from long and vigorous exercise, and a painful uninterrupted application to the arts of verse. The liberal spirit of that people led them to countenance every new attempt towards superior literary excellence; and so, by the public favour, their writings, from rude essays, became at length the standard and admiration of succeeding wits. The Romans had treated their adventurers quite otherwise, and the effect was answerable. This is the purport of what to a common eye may look like a digression [from v. 93 to 108], in which is delineated the very different genius and practice of the two nations. For the Greeks [to v. 102] had applied themselves, in the intervals of their leisure from the toils of war, to the cultivation of every species of elegance, whether in arts, or letters; and loved to cherish the public emulation, by affording a free indulgence to the various and volatile disposition of the times. The activity of these restless spirits, was incessantly attempting some new and untryed form of composition; and, when that was brought to a due degree of perfection, it turned, in good time, to the cultivation of some other.
Quod cupide petiit, mature plena reliquit.
So that the very caprice of humour [v. 101] assisted, in this libertine country, to advance and help forward the public taste. Such was the effect of peace and opportunity with them.
Hoc paces habuere bonae ventique secundi.