Thomas Hobbes.
Paris, Jan. 10, 1650.
LETTER TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE EDW. HOWARD.[[B]]
To the Right Hon. Mr. Edward Howard.
Sir,
My judgment in poetry hath, you know, been once already censured by very good wits, for commending Gondibert; but yet they have not, I think, disabled my testimony. For what authority is there in wit? A jester may have it; a man in drink may have it; be fluent over night, and wise and dry in the morning. What is it? Or who can tell whether it be better to have it or be without it, especially if it be a pointed wit? I will take my liberty to praise what I like, as well as they do to reprehend what they do not like. Your poem, Sir, contains a well and judiciously contrived story, full of admirable and heroic actions, set forth in noble and perspicuous language, such as becomes the dignity of the persons you introduce: which two things of themselves are the heighth of poetry. I know that variety of story, true or feigned, is the thing wherewith the reader is entertained most delightfully. And this also to the smallness of the volume is not wanting. Yours is but one small piece; whereas the poets that are with us so much admired, have taken larger subjects. But let an English reader, in Homer or Virgil in English, by whomsoever translated, read one piece by itself, no greater than yours; I may make a question whether he will be less pleased with yours than his. I know you do not equal your poem to either of theirs: the bulk of the work does not distinguish the art of the workman. [The Battle of Mice and Frogs may be owned without disparagement by Homer himself. Yet if Homer had written nothing else, he never had had the reputation of so admirable a poet as he was.][[C]] Ajax was a man of very great stature, and Teucer a very little person: yet he was brother to Ajax, both in blood and chivalry. I commend your poem for judgment, not for bulk; and am assured it will be welcome to the world with its own confidence; though if it come forth armed with verses and epistles, I cannot tell what to think of it. For the great wits will think themselves threatened, and rebel. Unusual fortifications upon the borders, carry with them a suspicion of hostility. And poets will think such letters of commendation a kind of confederacy and league, tending to usurp upon their liberty. [I have told you my judgment, and you may make use of it as you please. But I remember a line or two in your poem, that touched upon divinity, wherein we differed in opinion. But since you say the book is licensed, I shall think no more upon it, but only reserve my liberty of dissenting, which I know you will allow me.][[D]] I rest,
Sir,
Your most humble and obedient servant,
Thomas Hobbes.