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LECTURES
ON
POETRY

Read in the SCHOOLS of

Natural Philosophy

At OXFORD,

By JOSEPH TRAPP, A.M.

Translated from the Latin,

With additional Notes.

LONDON:

Printed for C. Hitch and C. Davis in Pater-Noster-Row.

MDCCXLII.

The Translator's Advertisement.

The following Lectures, being frequently referred to by the Author of them in the Preface and Notes to his Translation of Virgil, were thought proper to be communicated to the World in English, that both Works might speak the same Language as well as Sentiment, and address themselves to the same Sett of Readers. Whatever Reasons have been given for translating Virgil, and writing an English Comment on him, may be urged in behalf of these English Lectures, which as they are an Illustration of Poetry in general, so are they of Virgil in particular.

The Notes to this Edition were chiefly added as it went through the Press: In which though I sometimes differ from my ingenious Author, yet I hope not with greater Freedom than he has taken with others, and will pardon in me. I am well aware how easy it is to let some Mistakes slip in the Heat of Composition: And when these had once pass'd the Press, the Author, I suppose, was not very sollicitous to re-examine minutely the subsequent Editions; satisfied with the Approbation he had received from that learned Body before whom his Lectures were first delivered. An Honour which I shall never wish to see diminish'd by any thing I can say, or any one else: And shall now therefore with much greater Pleasure take this Opportunity of repeating the following Testimony of them from Mr. Felton's Preface to his Dissertation on Reading the Classics p. xxi, &c.

What a polite Critic may do, if he pleases, and in how different an Aspect Criticism appears, when formed by Men of Parts and Fire, we may see in the three Volumes of Dr. Trapp's Prӕlectiones Poeticӕ.A Work that cannot be enough commended, whether we consider the Curiousness of his Observations, the Justness of his Remarks, the Truth and Importance of his Rules, the Aptness and Beauty of his Examples, Force and Elegance of his Style, and the Penetration of his Wit and Judgment: A Piece in such Perfection of Beauty, that he gives the Rules with the same Spirit we find in the Examples; and maketh those Dissertations, which in heavy, formal Hands, would have looked crabbed, dull, and dry, shine in all the Graces, that Life, and Ease, and Vigour can adorn them with. We see how entertaining the severest Criticisms are in a Poet's Hand, and what Life and Spirit he can give to the dryest Part of his Subject, while he prescribes the Rules and fixes the Laws of Poetic Diction, weigheth the Importance of Words, and considers the several Ways of Expression peculiar to the Poets. And if Men of such Learning and such Parts would undertake this Province, I cannot help repeating it, we should see more and more into the Propriety, Strength, and Compass, and all the hidden Beauties of the Greek and Latin Tongues.

The Author's Preface.

I have no Occasion to detain the Reader with a Preface in Praise of Poetry: What I thought proper to say on that Head, he will find comprised in the following Introductory Oration. I shall only just in a few Words lay before him the Purport of the following Sheets.

Being elected into the Professorship by that venerable Body the Convocation at Oxford, I thought it incumbent on me to discharge my Duty in it according to the best of my Abilities. The better to do so, I endeavour in the following Lectures to keep such a Medium in examining the Sentiments of the several Writers on Poetry that tho' I pay much Deference to their Authority, yet I don't slavishly adhere to their Decrees. For Books are to be consider'd as Helps to Learning, not Fetters to it; and it is just, in these sort of Studies especially, that every Man, after he has weigh'd the Opinion of others should be at Liberty to follow his own.

This Method I take to be the most entertaining and the most useful both to the Writer and the Reader. No one, I am persuaded, will suspect I pursued it for the sake of Ease; since it is much harder to digest than to transcribe. And, indeed, what can be a more arduous Task, than to unfold the Nature of Poetry in general, and its different Species; to explain the various Elegances of Style, and its no less various Defects; to explore the secret Turns of the Mind; to weigh the minutest Momenta of Wit; to separate in things of so great Delicacy, Truth from Falshood; to shew by what Springs they delight or ravish their Readers or Hearers?

I thought proper just to say so much of the Difficulty of the present Work, not out of a Desire of gaining Praise, but Pardon; that if I have fallen into any Errors, I may meet with some Favour from the Learned. For to their Judgment I submit myself, and the Fortunes of this Book; always ready to receive more full Instruction, and to retract, not to defend the Mistakes of it.

But arduous and difficult as these Enquiries are, yet not therefore unpleasant; For it is not to be thought that all Discourses which deliver Rules and Precepts are dry and unentertaining; some are no less full of Delight than Advantage. Of which sort is the Subject before us, elegant in its Nature, and agreeable to the Taste of the most Polite; who are never better pleased than when they scrutinise into the Laws of just Writing and true Thought, and have the choicest Examples of each laid before them. The Mind is charmed with tracing out its own Operations; and while on so refined a Subject we read Authors of the same Sentiments with ourselves, we observe with secret Complacence, similar Ideas arise in our Minds; or if we dissent from a good Writer, we are ready to join in his Praise tho' not in his Opinion: For such an one, tho' he misses the Truth, yet deviates with Ingenuity, and is elegant even in his Mistakes.

The Difficulties then we are speaking of, are such that they don't deter the Admirers of Polite Literature, but invite them: Such as are not attended with Uncouthness of Thought or Asperity of Style; but are like the Labours of Lovers, who, to gain the Good-will of the Fair, go through the most arduous Tasks and solicite Dangers.

If the Reader will observe in the following Sheets some Errors slipt, some Defects either in Thought or Expression, he will at worst have no Reason to complain that I have too importunately loaded him. He will rather wonder perhaps, on the other Hand, how I durst pretend to treat of such Variety of Matter in so few Pages: An Accusation, to which I know not how to give a satisfactory Answer, and which I own I have often been ready to draw up against myself. I can only declare that this has been owing either to Chance, or to the Nature of my Subject, or to my own Inabilities, not to Indolence, for I have omitted nothing which after the most mature Deliberation I thought proper to be taken Notice of. In other respects I own I studied Brevity as much as possible, rejecting many things that offer'd, which I judged unentertaining, superfluous, and such as would give the Reader rather Pain than Pleasure; many likewise, which tho' proper Observations in themselves, yet had been abundantly taken Notice of by others; whose Writings I had no Inclination to make so free with, as to purloin.

And this, I hope, will not be imputed to me as an Imperfection: For Brevity as such (to use the Language of the Schoolmen) and considered in its own Nature, is by no means a Fault; but rather an Excellence, if we keep clear of those Faults that often adhere to it. If we do Justice to our Subject and are at the same time perspicuous, we cannot be too concise; especially in those Works where we propose to delight the Reader, as well as profit him.

How far this has been effected in the following Sheets, must be left entirely to his Judgment. I am sure my Endeavour has been not to be wanting to both these Ends, and I might with more Ease to myself have wrote a larger Book. To treat of Elegance in an inelegant Manner is a mere Absurdity; and Conciseness is generally an Attendant of Elegance. Nothing I am sure can afford more Pleasure to the Understanding than an accurate Enquiry into the Subjects here treated of: Nothing greater Difficulty to a Writer, who is to act the Critic and Philosopher, rather than the Historian. Even Metaphysics do not more try the Mind than Poetry, when we search into the latent Sources of its Beauties and Allurements. But the Pleasure in the one is much greater than in the other: This has its Thorns; but such as grow on the Rose, tender and yielding, that heighten at once its Sweetness and its Beauty.

One Thing I would desire the Reader to observe; that under each Head of Poetry, I have either wholly omitted every thing that is Historical, or but lightly touch'd upon it: Not became I think by any Means that Part of Learning contemptible; but partly because I find it more suitable to my Nature (such as it is) to search into Things than Facts; and partly because others, whose Erudition I very much reverence, and to whom I always refer my Reader, have already in this Respect, deserv'd well of the Learned. However, in one or two of my Dissertations I could not come at the Nature of the Subject I treated of without enquiring into the History of it: as in those upon the Origin of Poetry in general, upon Epigram, and Satire. But even in them to enter into a long Detail of Circumstances fetch'd from the Writings of the Ancients, wou'd be doing Nothing but what had been done before; which is the Thing I have throughout endeavour'd to avoid. My Aim has been not to be tedious; and for fear I should be so now, I shall add no more; but leave my Book to stand or fall by the Opinion of the Learned.

CONTENTS

N. B. The several Passages cited from Virgil are printed in English from Dr. Trapp's Version. The other Poetical Translations without a Name, the Editor is to be accountable for, tho' he wishes he had as good a Title to the Excellence of two or three of them as he has to the Imperfections of the rest.

The Notes added to this English Edition are distinguish'd thus * or thus †; whereas those that were before in the Latin are referr'd to by Letters a, b, c, etc.

ERRATA.

LECTURES ON
POETRY, &c.

The ORATION upon entering into the Professorship, or First Lecture.

LECTURE I.

Altho', Gentlemen, I am sensible of the Obligation you have laid upon me, by making Choice of me to fill this Office, esteeming it an Honour to receive Commands, much more Favours from so venerable a Body; yet I must own myself under some Concern, when I consider that I enter into a Province unattempted by others, and wherein I have no Footsteps to guide me. For so it has happen'd, that tho' all other Sciences the World can boast of, have had their Instructors and Professors in this most flourishing University; Poetry alone, neglected, as it were, and overlook'd, has hitherto wanted Schools for her Reception. 'Twas much, indeed, that in the very Seat of the Muses that Art shou'd have found none, which the Muses esteem above all others, and claim as their peculiar Property: With You it has always been its Choice to live, and with You it always has liv'd; but has wanted, however, a fix'd Habitation, and (if I may speak more poetically) has wander'd here among other Sciences, as Delos, Apollo's native Place, did among the Ægean Islands, till that excellent Gentleman, whose Munificence I now commemorate, like another Apollo, fix'd its Situation, and honour'd it with an Establishment.

But to omit these imaginary Flights, and to represent Things without any Colouring, What Thanks are due to him, who has render'd himself a perpetual Mæcenas, not only to Poets, but to Poetry itself; who has bestow'd Honours upon that Art, which adds the greatest to whatever is meritorious; who has prescribed it Laws, and secured to it a Patrimony? But still without a Patrimony it had almost been, if the reverend and worthy Trustees[1] of the Muses Legacy had not to the Patron's Benevolence contributed no small Assistance of their own, and deserved little less Praise by receding from their Due, than the other, by his original Settlement. One of them[2], especially, who, as he is himself no small Part of our University, and of that venerable Assembly, and has an Intercourse with both, makes use of it to promote Good-will and Friendship mutually between them. How near had the Poetical Revenues been lost, if they had not been in the Hands of Men therefore the most zealous for Learning and the University, because they were adorned with the Insignia of each? If these good Men reject our Praises, at least let them permit us to return our Thanks. To the Living, then, we gratefully pay the Tribute of Gratitude; to the Deceased, whose Gift they augmented, that of Glory.

He well knew that Poetry did not boast so much of her learned Poverty (noted even to a Proverb) as utterly to reject all Acquisitions. He knew, moreover, that it was no less capable of Rules than other Arts, and no less deserving of them; that it proceeded upon certain Principles, which were founded upon Truth and right Reason; that our Master Aristotle, who has accurately treated of the other Sciences, and whose Authority we follow in them all, had bestowed likewise some of his Pains on this, and has left upon no Subject greater Monuments, either of Extent of Genius, or of Care and Application.

They therefore lie under a great Mistake, that think Poetry suited only to the Theatre, and would have it banished from the Schools, as of too unbounded a Nature to submit to the Regulation of Precept. Rage, indeed, is its Property; but a Rage altogether divine; not deviating from Reason, but rendering it more ornamental and sublime. It may be said, likewise, to be a Fire; not like our consuming ones, but like those of the celestial Orbs above, that have not only the Qualities of Heat and Brightness, but maintaining one uniform Course, are carried round their Orbits at once with equal Swiftness and Regularity.

We see, then, it is no Absurdity to have Rules prescribed to this Art. And what could have been thought of, of so delicate and refined a Nature, as the Office of prescribing them? What more worthy of an University to accept, or a Courtier to appoint? A Courtier, I say, for in the City he was an Ornament to the Court; as in the University he was to that House, which has always had the Credit of abounding, and we still have the Comfort of seeing it abound with Gentlemen of the most distinguish'd Wit, Birth, and good Manners. I am sure no Gift could have been more becoming a Friend of the Muses to bestow, and he was not only an Admirer, but an Intimate of them; not only a Lover of their Art, but a skilful Practitioner in it; nor could any one so properly make Poetry his Heir, as a Poet.

He knew, by Experience, that no Pleasure was equal to the reading ancient Poets, except that of imitating them. Happy they, that can partake of both; but the former ought to be the Employment of all, that desire to have any Taste for Letters, or Politeness. Some there are, however, to whom these Studies are disagreeable, and who endeavour to make them so to others: This is not owing to any Fault in Poetry, but in themselves. Formed as they are of coarse Materials, they have naturally a Disposition either slow and frozen, callous and unpolite, or harsh and morose; so, forsooth, whilst they would appear grave, as they are, they maliciously hate, or superciliously contemn these Exercises, as the great Disturbers of their Peace. They condemn what they know nothing of; and despise the Pleasure they want a Capacity to enjoy.

But if at least they pay any Deference to Antiquity (and with these Men nothing uses to be more sacred, looking upon every Thing with the greater Veneration, the more antient it is) they ought on this Account to allow the Art we are speaking of its due Honours. For not to urge that Poetry is coeval with the World itself, and that the Creator may be said in working up and finishing his beautiful Poem of the Universe, to have performed the Part of a Poet, no less than of a Geometrician[3]; it is well known, that those Books have had the greatest Sanction from Time, that have been dictated by God, or writ by Poets. Those, as it is fit, have the Precedence: But these follow at no very great Distance.

Nay, why should we make this Difference between the sacred Writers and Poets, since the sacred Writers were most of them Poets; on both Accounts deservedly called Vates (a Word expressing either Character) and acted by no feigned Inspiration? That the Devils then, heretofore, usurping the Title of Gods, gave out their Oracles in Verse, was owing wholly to their imitating, in this, as well as in other Particulars, the true God, that so they might gain Honour and Reverence from their Votaries. If in the Poems of Job, and David, and the other sacred Authors, we observe the inexpressible Sublimity of their Words and Matter; their elegant, and more than human Descriptions; the happy Boldness of their Metaphors; their spiritual Ardour breathing Heaven, and winging the Souls of their Readers up to it, triumphing, as it were, by a royal Authority, over the narrow Rules of mortal Writers, it is impossible but we must in Transport own, that nothing is wanting in them, that might be expected from the Strength of Poetry heighten'd by the Energy of Inspiration.

If this, then, be the Case, who would not wonder at the Ignorance or Baseness of those, who rashly reproach an Art with Impiety, which has the Honour of being not only pleasing to God, but taught and dictated by him. 'Tis true, Poetry, as well as Religion, has, by Length of Time, been corrupted with Fables; but this is no more to be imputed to the one than the other; and we can only from hence complain, that by the Depravity of Mankind the best of Things are most liable to Corruption.

Nor is it any more owing to the Art itself, that it is sometimes polluted by obscene Writers: To them alone the Infamy redounds: The Chastity of Poetry is violated like a Virgin's, and tho' it seems to be the Instrument of doing an Injury to Virtue, yet Virtue is not more a Sufferer than she is. She acts in her proper Sphere, when, with her native Purity, she discovers the true Attractives of Virtue, nor disguises Vice with false ones; when she inflames the Mind of Man with the Love of Goodness, recounts the Works of the Almighty, and sets forth all his Praises. Undoubtedly, as the divine and sister Sciences, Poetry and Music, owe their Origin to Heaven; they love to be employed about heavenly Things; thither they tend by their native Force, and, like Fire, seek those blessed Abodes from whence they first descended.

Since Poetry, then, is so venerable, both for its Antiquity, and its Religion; they are no less to blame, who look upon it as a trifling Amusement, an Exercise for Boys only, or young Men. The Injustice of this Calumny is plain from hence, that a good Proficient in this kind of Writing must not only excel in Wit, Elegance, and Brightness; but must be endowed with the maturest Judgment, and furnished with all sorts of Literature. He must, in Truth, turn over the Annals of Time, and Monuments of History; he must trace the Situation of Countries, understand the different Manners of Nations; the Actions and Passions of Mankind in general, must explore the inmost Recesses of the Mind, and secret Avenues to them; survey the whole System of the Universe; in short, make himself Master of all Nature. Who cannot but see and admire the Learning of Homer and Horace; in Virgil especially, his almost universal Extent of Knowledge in both sorts of Philosophy, in History, Geography, and the chief of all Science, Mathematicks? In Lucretius we see how perfectly Natural Philosophy and Poetry agree; and how properly these Schools of ours are appropriated to both: Nor have the severest Philosophers Reason to complain, that the Company of the one reflects the least Dishonour on the other.

This I am sure they have not, if we duly consider the Nature of this admirable Art; from whence it will appear to contain whatever is great or beautiful in Prose, and besides to be distinguished by its own proper Ornaments; which it abundantly displays, whilst it pleases our Ears, and ravishes our Souls with its Harmony; whilst it strongly imprints in our Minds the Images of the Things it represents; by a becoming Fiction sets off Truth to Advantage, and renders it more amiable; and by a decent Liberty keeps those Laws it seems to violate.

Another Reason of its Contempt, at least of the Abatement of its Esteem, is, that there are such Numbers of Writers, who give Offence to Men of Learning, by affecting the Title of Poets. This is a Fact we are very sensible of, and lament: I know not how it is, there's no sort of Learning to which more apply themselves, or fewer attain. Innumerable Pretenders there are, who, in spite of Genius and Nature, are daily troubling the World with their wretched Performances; who write Verse often, that scarce attempt to write any Thing else, and venture upon the most difficult of all Studies, that are unfit for any. This profane Mob of Poetasters are deservedly to be condemned, that arrogate to themselves the Credit of a Title, that no ways belongs to them; and which is due only to those who are of elevated Genius, and Souls divine. But so far is this from fixing any true Mark of Infamy on our Art, that it ought to redound to its Credit. For in this its native Excellence appears, that it is a Mistress, to whom all by natural Impulse, as it were, pay their Addresses, tho' there are so few, upon whom she bestows her Favours. Thus Wit, Wisdom, and Religion, have each those amiable Colours, in which all Mankind endeavour to appear.

Nor need we wonder it meets with such Esteem, since it excels all other Sciences, by mixing so agreeably Pleasure with Advantage. For it is found experimentally true, that by reading the ancient Poets, but especially by imitating them, the Mind is polish'd, enlivened, and enlarged; is enriched with a Stock of various Erudition, as well sacred as profane; with such Plenty of lofty Ideas, and lively Expressions, as is no small Addition to the Eloquence of even Prose itself. This no one will deny, that pays any Deference to Cicero's Opinion or Authority; who ingenuously tells us he owes no small Assistance to the Poets, runs out largely in their Praises, and seems to give them the first Place among the Learned. "We are told, says he[4], by Men of the greatestLearning, that the Science of all other Things depends upon Precepts and Art; but a Poet on Nature alone; that he is formed by the Force of Genius, and inspired, as it were, with somewhat of Divinity." This Topick he defends, and expatiates upon, with such Warmth, that Oratory seems never to have shone out brighter, or to have been more pleased with its own Force, than when it was employed in the Praise of Poetry.

But farther, it ought by all Means to be encouraged, because it raises the Mind to Virtue and Honour, by delivering down the Examples of great Men to Immortality. It not only celebrates Heroes, but makes them; and by lively Copies produces new Originals. What, in short, is it else, but the utmost Effort of the Mind of Man, that tries all its Nerves, while it infuses into it a Tincture of universal Learning temper'd with the greatest Sweetness. For its Votaries it affects with no small Pleasure, which its infinite Variety abundantly supplies. Oratory, like a River with all its Pomp of Water, confines its Waves within its own Banks; but Poetry, like the Ocean, diffuses itself, by a Variety of Channels, into Rivers, Fountains, and the remotest Springs. What can be more delightful, than to take a Survey of Things, Places, and Persons; what more elegant, than to see them represented in beautiful Pictures? Who is not charm'd with the humorous Turns of Epigram, the Softness of Elegy, the bantering Wit of one sort of Satire, the Anger of the other, the Keenness and Poignancy of both? And yet still more the Ode affects us with its daring Colours, its lofty Conceptions, its Choice of Expression, its agreeable Variety of Numbers, and (what is the distinguishing Character of the Lyrics) that Luxuriancy of Thought, conducted with the severest Judgment, by which it now and then expatiates into new Matter, connects Things it seem'd to separate, and falls by Chance, as it were, into its first Subject. Who is there that does not with Pleasure survey an Epitome of the World in the Dramatic Poets? The Life, Humours, and Customs of Mankind represented in Comedy; in Tragedy the tumultuous Passions of the Great, the Turns of Fortune and wonderful Catastrophes, the Punishment of Villainy and Rewards of Virtue, and sometimes the Misfortunes of good Men? Who, I say, is not affected with Pleasure, whether he laughs or weeps with them? For such is the Force of Poetry, that it makes us pleased with our Tears, and from Sorrow extorts Satisfaction. But far beyond all this, is the Epic Poem, that farthest Extent of the human Soul, the utmost Bounds of Study, and the Pillars, beyond which the Labours of the Mind can never pass. So abundant is it, that, besides its own peculiar Excellence, than which nothing can be greater, it comprehends within its Sphere all other Kinds of Poetry whatever; and is in this Art what the Organ is in Music, which with various Pipes, inflated with the same Breath, charms us not only with its own Harmony, but represents that of every other Instrument.

These are not Beauties only in Theory; we have Authors that have shone in each of these Branches of Poetry: Thus Martial pleases with his tart Facetiousness, Catullus with his sound Wit, tho' his Verse is sometimes a little harsh; Ovid, Tibullus, and Propertius, with their Ease and Fluency in both. The Man that does not admire the Boldness of Juvenal's Spirit, the Richness of his poetic Vein, and his fearless Rage in Satire; may he never love, may he never know the genteel and courtly Turns, the pleasant Sneers, the severe, and yet inviting Precepts of Virtue, the Remarks on common Life made with the greatest Penetration, Judgment, and Wisdom, with which the Satires of Horace, and especially his Epistles, are replete. In this kind of Writing, as we prefer him before all others; so in Lyric Poetry he stands not only first, but alone. With Regard to Comedy, if there were nothing remaining but what Terence has left us, viz. that Chasteness of Style, that never-failing Fund of Wit and Judgment, that Humour clear of vulgar Jests, those beautiful Images of Mankind and Nature, that exquisite Artifice in working up Plots, and unfolding them; we should ever have Reason to praise the Art and the Poet. If Tragedy has receiv'd but small Ornaments from the Latin Writers, as far as they have come to our Hands; by the Greeks that Loss has been abundantly compensated. Witness the Thunder and Vigour of Sophocles, the Grandeur and sententious Gravity of Euripides, the Art of both, with which they command the Affections of their Readers, and call forth Pity or Terror at Pleasure.

The Nature and Limits of this Discourse will not allow me even to touch upon the Characters of all the other Greek and Latin Writers that have excell'd in the several Species of Poetry. One, however, it would be unpardonable to omit, who as he is the greatest of all (not Homer himself excepted) may not improperly bring up the Rear of this shining Host, the immortal Virgil, I mean, beyond all Praises, in all Respects compleat. Who is not in Love with the plain and unaffected Beauty of his Eclogues, the finish'd and chaste Elegance of his Georgics, and in them the entertaining Descriptions with which they abound, with the Variety of their Expressions, the Usefulness of their Precepts in Husbandry, and their noble Excursions, upon every proper Occasion, into Subjects of a sublimer Nature? But the divine Æneid who can turn over without Transport, without being lost, as it were, in a happy Mixture of Joy and Wonder? Who can help being astonish'd at that Fire of Imagination temper'd with so cool a Judgment, such Strength united with so much Beauty? To nothing this Work can with Justice be compar'd, unless to that, whose Duration will have the same Period, the great Machine of the Universe. For where shall we find, in any human Composition, so exact a Harmony between the several Parts, and so much Beauty in each of them; such an infinite Fecundity of Matter, without the least Exuberance of Style, or Crowding of Incidents? It would be an endless Attempt to recount the different Images of Heroes, and other Personages that appear up and down in it, the Variety of Manners, the Conflict of Passions, almost every Object of the Imagination beautifully described, all Nature unfolded, the great Events, the unexpected Revolutions, the Incentives to Virtue; in the several Speeches the most finish'd Eloquence; in the Thoughts and Expressions the sublimest Majesty; in short, the most consummate Art, by which all these Things are brought into one uniform Piece?

After the mention of Virgil and those other great Names, Silence only should ensue; but that our Oration naturally addresses itself to him, to whose Indulgence this Liberty of speaking in the Praise of Virgil, and those other great Names, is owing; our most worthy Vice-chancellor[5], I mean, who has brought to Light this Poetic Legacy, which had been buried, as it were, for many Years in Oblivion, and has at length placed it upon a Foundation that will make it perpetual. Such Attainments, Sir, have you made in your Study of the publick Welfare! 'tis thus you make us sensible that none are so faithful and diligent Dispensers of others Bounty, as the Bountiful! I shall not enter into a Detail of the other Virtues, that make up your Character: My Business was to mention that only which relates to our present Function: Permit us, however, to wish you Length of Days in this World, that such Thanks may in Time be due to you, as may exceed the Power of Poetry itself to pay.

LECTURE II, and III.
Of the Nature and Origin of Poetry in general.

Before we enter upon the different Branches of the Art we propose to treat of, it may not be improper to clear our Way, by giving, as the Schoolmen speak, a general Idea of it, and laying before you a comprehensive View of whatever is common to all its Parts. None, that I know of, has given a just Definition of it; not Aristotle himself, tho' a perfect Master in Definitions: And yet there's nothing in the Subject repugnant to one. To be short, then, Poetry seems in general, An Art of imitating or illustrating in metrical Numbers every Being in Nature, and every Object of the Imagination, for the Delight and Improvement of Mankind.

Vossius's Definition[6] (I speak it with humble Deference to so great a Man) to me is by no means satisfactory, who makes Poetry consist in being An Art of representing Actions in Metre. This Definition falls too short, and is not comprehensive enough of the Nature of the Thing defined. For I would ask, is it not the Business of Poetry to represent every Thing that is capable of being represented? And are Actions the only Things capable of being represented? This, indeed, is expresly asserted by Dacier, the French Interpreter of Aristotle: But to any one that considers the Passage, it will abundantly appear, that this Opinion cannot be drawn from Aristotle by a just Interpretation of him. That great Philosopher, and Prince of Critics, says, that Imitators imitate Actions. Now, can any one, without violating all the Rules of Reasoning this Philosopher has taught, conclude from hence that Actions alone are capable of being imitated? He indeed says, or rather the French Version is made to say, that All that imitate, imitate Actions; but in his own Original he says no such Thing; the Word All is added by the Interpreter: His Words are[7], μιμουνἱαι ὁι μιμουμενοι πραἱἱονἱαϛ, i. e. Imitators imitate Actions.

But if the Version were true, the Conclusion drawn from it would, however, be false. For All Imitators may imitate Actions, and yet possibly not Actions only. But there's no need of many Words to prove Aristotle's Authority unjustly alledged for this Proposition; since he tells us himself, a little before the Passage above cited[8], μιμουνἱαι και ηθη και παθη και πραξειϛ, i. e. they imitate Manners, Passions, and Actions. He thought therefore that not only Actions, but Manners and Affections, were capable of being imitated. It is certain, if by Imitation is meant that which impresses upon the Mind a true and genuine Representation of any Thing, it will be no less repugnant to common Sense than to Aristotle's, to affirm that nothing but Actions can be imitated. For, besides them, we see Passions, Things, Places, and Men are imitated, not only by Poets, but by Painters too. This Horace, the best Interpreter of Aristotle, sufficiently intimates, when he uses the Word imitari in the same Sense with describere, pingere, or sculpere:

Molles imitabitur ære capillos[9] In Brass shall imitate the waving Hair.

Besides, Vossius's Definition is short in another Respect; as it makes the Object of Imitation too narrow, so it makes the Essence of Poetry consist solely in Imitation; whereas there are some Kinds of it that have little to do with Imitation, but much in Illustration; as we shall shew in the Sequel.

That Poetry is an Art, is sufficiently plain, and we have no Occasion to use many Words to prove it. It observes certain Laws and Rules, is brought to the Test of right Reason, and, lastly, it aims at some particular End. I cannot but wonder, therefore, why those that fix'd the Number of the Liberal Arts, as they are commonly reckon'd up, should have allowed no Place for Poetry and Oratory among them. They were thought, perhaps, reducible partly to Rhetorick, and partly to Grammar. But this, I think, they are not, with any Propriety. For, not to observe that Poetry and Oratory are in their Merit too good, and in their Extent too great to be included in other Sciences, the Business of Rhetorick is wholly to polish the Style of both of them; and, by the Way, as it is now-a-days managed, tends more, perhaps, to the Detriment and Corruption, than the Credit and Honour of either; but is fully and professedly concerned in neither. As to Grammar, they can no more be reduced to that, than all other Sciences whatever; for to all Sciences Words, whether written or spoken, are subservient. Well, then, Vossius and all agree that Poetry is an Art, tho' that great Man has not sufficiently shewn the peculiar Business of it.

The Definition we have given above, seems to be full, and every Way compleat, inasmuch as it comprehends the whole Nature of Poetry, is applicable only to Poetry, and all the Species of it; for all of them are always concern'd, either in Imitation, or Illustration, or both at once. Between these two there is some Difference; for he that beautifully imitates any Thing, always illustrates it; but not on the contrary; the Rule does not hold vice versa. Those Things that relate to Science, and Discipline, such as the Ideas of the Mind, Virtues, Vices, Manners, and the like, are illustrated by being explained; but no one will say, that by being explained they are imitated. But, as I said, it is an undoubted Maxim, that all Kinds of Poetry are employed one or other of these Ways, or both. In Descriptions of whatever Kind, in moving the Passions, in Panegyric, in Satire, in Heroics, in Ethics, the Poet either imitates or illustrates something, or does both; unless, perhaps, we ought to except the Writers of those short Sentences, that are mere moral Sayings; such as Pythagoras, Phocyllides, and the like; who may be said, indeed, to write Verses, but not Poems: They want the Force, the Elegance, the Style, and peculiar Turn of Thought that discriminates Poets from other Writers. 'Tis plain, then, the Business of Poets is either Imitation or Illustration; and that, not only of Actions, but, as we presumed to lay down in our Definition, of every Being in Nature, or in the Imagination. The Object, then, of Poetry, must be enlarged, and those Bounds extended, that Vossius prescribed to it: For is there any Thing in the real or ideal World, not capable of being described or illustrated? any Thing which the capacious Stretch of Poetry will not comprehend?

And since it chiefly consists in Imitation, it may not be amiss, perhaps, to make a short Comparison between that and Painting. All Poetry will not admit of this Comparison, but such only as consists in Description; upon which whatever is in common between them, depends. Painting, as well as Poetry affects the Passions; That by Description alone, This by other adventitious Arts. I would here, however, particularly observe, that Poetry consists much more in Description, than is generally imagined. For, besides those longer and set Descriptions of Things, Places, and Persons, there are numberless others, unobserved by common Readers, contained in one Verse, sometimes in one Word, to which the whole Beauty of the Thought is owing; and which wonderfully affect us, for no other Reason but because they are Descriptions, that is, impress a lively Image of somewhat upon the Mind. To this it is, that metaphorical Expressions, when selected with Judgment, owe their Beauty, and their Elegance; every Metaphor being a short Description.

But to return to our Comparison between Painting and Poetry. They both agree, in representing to the Mind Images of Things, and ought both of them to be govern'd by Nature and Probability. So near is their Affinity, that by a very natural and common Metaphor, Poetry is said to paint Things, Painting to describe them. Both give us Draughts of the Body, as well as the Soul; but with this Difference, that the former is chiefly expressed by Painting, the latter by Poetry. It cannot be denied, but that the Lines of a Face are much more strongly distinguish'd by Light and Shade, than by any Colouring of Words, tho' ever so elegant, or well chosen: Add, moreover, that the Attitudes, the various Positions and Gestures of the Body, the confused Rout and Tumult of a Battle, the Gloominess or Brightness of a Landscape, the Prospect of a Building, and the like, are represented to much greater Perfection by Painters, than Poets; tho', in these Particulars, Description approaches nearer to Painting than in Portraitures. The Reason of these Advantages of the Painter's over the Poet's Art, is obvious; for as the Things represented are the Objects of the Senses, to the Senses Painting exhibits the Images of them, as well as to the Imagination, and that according to the exactest Rules of Optics and Proportion: Whereas the Poet can only apply to the inward Faculties of the Soul, by the fainter Helps of Words and Sound, of Memory and Recollection. In Verse, indeed, we find these Things wonderfully described, and every Way agreeably to Nature; and tho' it is impossible for Words to represent them to the Mind, as graphically as Colours do to the Eyes; yet perhaps less Genius is required in the one than in the other. But the inward Springs and Movements of the Soul, the Actions, Passions, Manners, the distinguishing Tempers and Natures of Men, are drawn with much more Accuracy by the Poet, than the Painter. The one can imitate only so much of the Passions, as appears in the outward Man, in his Countenance, and Gesture; the other fetches them from the inmost Recesses of the Heart, describes them as they lurk there, without Disguise, in all their genuine Conflicts. The Representation we see of these, even in Painting (as far as Colours can represent them) is exquisite, even to Admiration; but, upon the whole, after a fair Comparison between the two Arts, Poetry excels Painting as much as the Soul does the Body, that being best represented by the former, as this is by the latter.

Poetry, then, being a sort of Imitation, those that practise the Art are not called Ποιηἱαι, Makers[10], from creating; as if it was their peculiar Province to produce, out of nothing, new Matter for their Subject: So far is this from being true, that they propose always to copy Nature. But this Appellation is given them by way of Eminence, as their Thoughts are more exercised in Invention, and forming Ideas, than any other Writer's; as such Symmetry and Harmony is required in their Compositions; and such Artifice in their Fictions (for they not only adorn their Subject, but generally make it) and, lastly, such Management and Pains in working up the Machines of their Poem, and conducting the several Parts of it, so as to make them all conspire to one uniform Action. In this last Particular Poets remarkably excel other Writers, as all that are versed in them are sensible. But among those that are honoured with the Title of Poets, and are such, all have not an equal Claim to it. To the Epic and Dramatic Writers it is more peculiarly applicable; to the rest, only, as we term it, by Analogy. Their Business is Invention, as well as Disposition; the rest have little to do with the one, much less with the other. So that there are not only different Degrees of Poets, and subordinate Honours; but some who are called so only in an improper Sense: For who would mention Martial and Virgil under the same Predicament?

We said above, that Poetry consisted of metrical Numbers: This is a necessary Part of the Definition, as being the very Essence of Poetry, properly so called; and tho', as we observed, there may be Verses without a Poem, there can't be a Poem without Verses. I am obliged, therefore, once more to dissent from Monsieur Dacier; who, not, indeed, without the Authority of others, maintains[11], that those fabulous Narratives in Prose, of Lucian, Heliodorus, and the like, among the Ancients, and of many others among the Moderns, that are held in so great Esteem, in France, particularly, and Spain, are Poems. I readily own some of them are truly elegant, and give us ample Testimonies of the Authors Wit and Judgment; nay, and except their want of Verse, are very little different from Epic Poems. But if even Homer's Ilias, or Virgil's Æneis, were to be stript of their Metre, they would no longer be looked upon as Poems; if we may judge of the Nature of a Poem from the general Consent of Writers, who always take it for granted that Verse is an essential Property of it.

Those who are of the other Opinion, think they are supported by no less Authority than Aristotle's; who asserts τ' εποποιιαν to consist μονον τοιϛ ψιλοιϛλογοιϛ, η τοιϛμετροιϛ. The foremention'd learned Writer insists, that ψιλοιϛ λογοιϛ can signify nothing else but plain Prose; that therefore Aristotle admitted some sort of Epic Poem without Metre. Others, that take the contrary Side, endeavour to shew, that by ψιλοιϛ λογοιϛ is to be understood a poetical Discourse, not without Metre, but without Harmony and Rhythm; by which Aristotle meant Music, and Measures which they used to dance to. So that, according to these Interpreters, the Particle η is not disjunctive in this Place, but explanatory. They that would see the Arguments in Defence of this Exposition, may consult Vossius[12]. But if we grant our Opponents what they desire, viz. that Aristotle meant only Prose by ψιλοιϛ λογοιϛ, as indeed it is most probable he did; yet it will not follow that he reckoned such fictitious Narratives, as we are now speaking of, or indeed any kind of Prose whatever, to be a Species of Poetry. To make this plain, we must enquire into the genuine Sense of the other Word ἑποπιἱα. Here the French Interpreter supposes, without any Hesitation, that it signifies nothing else but an Epic Poem, or the Art of making it. But Vossius proves, to a Demonstration, that it must have a larger Sense, so as to include the Epic Poem, and that kind of Fable without Metre, which is the Subject of our present Debate. The Meaning, then, of Aristotle, is this, that the ἑποπιἱα is the Genus, one Species of which is the Epic Poem; the other, the Novel, or Fable in Prose. Upon this View, then, we see, that granting ψιλοιϛ λογοιϛ, in Aristotle, to denote only Prose; yet it can't from thence be concluded, that these fictitious Narratives, or any kind of Prose, can be brought under the Head of Poetry. To the Epopœia they truly belong, and to nothing else.

Metre, then, we'll conclude to be an essential Part of Poetry. Another Question arises, whether Fiction is likewise so. Some tell us, that no one should be entitled a Poet, but he that invents some Fable, and heightens it with the Decoration of Verse. To this Opinion I can by no means assent. The first Writers of Verses, no doubt, made them in Praise of somewhat that was real, and before them. For it is highly probable, that this Art, as most others, was in its Infancy employ'd about Things that were most obvious, and easy to the Learner. Now it is certainly more easy to describe a Subject that already exists, than to form a new one. Vossius[13] thinks, that Love was the first Occasion of Poetry. Which is not improbable, considering that this Affection is coeval with Mankind, is universal, and naturally productive of Poetry. True Love, then, or somewhat true, was the Poets first Theme; afterwards, by Length of Time, they rose to Things that were more difficult, and blended artful Devices and Truth together. So that Poetry was before Fiction; and even since they have been united, there have been many Poets, truly so called, who have had to do with Fiction. Those that exercise that Talent with Art, are Poets in a more peculiar Manner, and of a superior Genius. But if those only were to be honour'd with the Title, the Number of them would be very small. To all, therefore, it ought to extend, who, tho' they invent nothing, yet illustrate their Subject with Metre, animated with the Style and Spirit of Poetry.

I cannot, therefore, sufficiently wonder that the great Scaliger[14] should assert, there was no Difference between Poetry and History, except in the Diction. 'Tis certain he could not mean Poetry in general; for there are many Sorts of it, which are so totally different from History, that they have scarce any Thing in common with it. Even the Epic Poem, tho' it consists much in Narration, yet is distinguish'd enough from History, by the subject Matter, by the Disposal of the Parts, and many other Criterions. Scaliger's Opinion may seem true in respect of one kind of Poetry only, such as that of Lucan, which is properly call'd an Historical Poem: Tho' this may be heighten'd with that poetic Rage and Fire, which, I presume, is somewhat more than Diction, and incompatible with History.

Tho' we generally use the Words Poesis and Poetica, Poesy and Poetry, indiscriminately; yet, if we would speak properly, they ought to be distinguish'd. By a Poem (a third Word, that often occurs in this sort of Dissertations) is meant the Work of the Poet; by Poesy, the actual Exercise; by Poetry, the Art or Habit.

And since Harmony and Sonorousness are so necessary a Part of Poetry, it may not be foreign to our Purpose to compare it with Music; especially as these two entertaining Arts are not only nearly allied in their Nature, but in Fact also, often united: This we see, especially in Odes and Songs, and the Entertainments of the Theatre; where Poesy and Music lend each other their friendly Aid, become joint Associates, and both conspire to captivate their Hearers. In this, also, they farther agree, that they have both the same Admirers. I speak of such as have made a Progress in Letters; for we often meet not only with Lovers of Music, but Masters in it, that, for want of Learning, have no Taste for the Pleasures of Poetry. But among those that are advanced in Literature, an Admirer of one of these Arts, loves the other also; and he that understands one, has a Knowledge in both, or desires and wishes for it. From hence it was, no doubt, that the Ancients made the same Apollo the Patron of Poetry and Music, and attributed to the Muses the divinest Melody, adorning them with the Ensigns of the Harp, and other musical Instruments. Aristotle, likewise, seems to have comprehended Music under Poetry; and tho' that may not be altogether so proper, since Music consists of Sound only, without Words, yet it is plain the Affinity between them is very great. Both charm the Ear with sonorous Measures; Music, indeed, in a higher Degree, but Poetry comes much nearer to it in this Respect, than Prose, how flowing or tuneable soever.

Both turn more particularly upon the Harmony of the Parts, and the proper Disposal of them; both suited to Men of the politest Taste, and both improve it. In short, so nearly are they the same, that the Word Singing is equally applied to both. But this Difference there is, that Poetry is much the more excellent in its kind; because the whole Circle of Learning enters into its Composition; it applies itself more particularly to the Soul, as the other to the Senses; and, lastly, the Advantages of it to Mankind are abundantly greater.

From hence I am naturally led to enquire into the Use and End of Poetry, which is generally reckoned twofold, viz. to instruct and to please. So that we come now to the last Branch of our Definition, wherein we asserted, that Poetry was design'd for the Pleasure and Improvement of Mankind, according to that well known Saying of Horace,

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare Poetæ.[15] A Poet shou'd instruct, or please, or both. Roscom.

It is agreed, then, by all, that this is the twofold End of Poetry; but which the principal, is still a Doubt. It may bear a Dispute, indeed, which is in Fact the principal; but which ought to be so, surely can be none: For in this, as in all other Arts, the Advantage ought to be considered before the Pleasure. Some, indeed, of our modern Writers, think otherwise; and boldly pronounce Pleasure to be the chief End of Poetry. It can't be denied, but this Opinion is perfectly consonant to their Writings; in which they not only principally consult their Reader's Pleasure, but in Opposition to their Advantage. Witness those lewd Poems with which this divine Art is polluted. But if we would consult Reason, we should allow that even in Verse what improves us, ought to be more regarded than what delights us. I own, the severest Wits, that lay down the most rigid Precepts of Virtue, ought to have a View to Pleasure in their Compositions; for it is the distinguishing Mark of the Poet from the Philosopher, that tho' Virtue is the Aim of both, yet the one presses it closer, indeed, but in a less engaging Manner. In the dry Method of a Teacher he defines his Subject, he explains his Terms, and then gives you Rules; the other cloaths his Precepts in Examples, and imperceptibly insinuates them under the beautiful Disguise of Narration. I own, likewise, that Readers are generally more sensible of the Pleasure they receive, than the Profit, even when it is less proposed by the Writers; for it is That makes the strongest Impression upon the Imagination: Nay, and I grant, that this is what Writers themselves ought to study. Yet notwithstanding all this, Profit may be the chief End of Poetry, and ought to be so; but for that very Reason Pleasure should be joined to it, and accompany it, as a Handmaid, to minister to its Occasions. When Children are allured with the sweeten'd Draught, or gilded Pill, they, as the Physician intended, consider nothing but the Beauty of the one, or the Taste of the other: But it is well known, this was not the chief Intent of the Physician in his Prescription.

This Rule relates principally to the more perfect and sublimer Kinds of Poetry, and especially the Epic and Dramatic. For we don't pretend that Epigram, Elegy, Songs, and the like, conduce much to the Improvement of Virtue. It is enough, if these Writings keep within the Bounds of Chastity, and give no Offence to Good-manners. Poets sometimes write, not so much to move others Passions, as to indulge their own. And as Pleasure is the chief, or, perhaps, the only Effect of this sort of Levities, so it may very innocently be proposed by Authors as the chief End of them. Tho' even from these lesser Flights one Advantage arises, that they improve the Wit, and polish the style, both of the Writer and the Reader; a Circumstance that may be observed in Favour of all Kinds of Poetry.

If it be asked, What are those inward Sensations of Pleasure with which Poetry affects us, or from whence it is Mankind are so highly delighted with that Way of Writing; I answer, this may in some Measure be collected from what has been already said, and farther, from what we shall have Occasion to say hereafter under the subject Matter of Poetry. At present let the following Considerations suffice: It is obvious enough why Harmony of Verse should please us, since that's a Pleasure that arises from a proper Disposition of Sounds, which make their Way directly to the Senses. But still we feel a much higher, from the Images of Things beautifully painted, and strongly impressed upon the Mind. As we are naturally desirous of Truth, we are glad to find our Ideas confirmed by those of others; for from thence we conclude ours are just, and agreeable to Nature. This Assimilation of Ideas is still more pleasant, when it arises from some sudden unforeseen Impression; for all Impressions upon the Mind, whether of Joy or Grief, are more affecting, the swifter they are made, and the more unexpected; the slower they are, the more languid. This is confirmed no less by Experience, than Reason. Since the Impressions, then, of Poetry, are of the vehement kind, it is no Wonder so much Pleasure should attend them, especially when the Ideas we speak of are heighten'd with all the Elegance of Expression. This Pleasure is likewise in some Measure to be attributed to the natural Love of Mankind for Imitation, the Reason of which we shall attempt to give in its proper Place. From these Principles we may account for the Pleasure that arises from Description, as well as that from Fiction.

The Pleasure we receive from the Variety of Thought, and sudden Transitions in Poetry, seems owing to our natural Love of Novelty; for so imperfect is the Happiness of us Mortals, that every Thing by Constancy grows nauseous and insipid to us.

With Regard to the Passions, why some of them should give us greater Pleasure, the more they are put in Motion, is plain; but how Delight should flow from Pity, Terror, and even Sorrow itself, seems truly wonderful, and difficult to account for. And, indeed, to do Justice to this Question, we ought to know the secret Springs of the Soul, and to lay open the Foundations of human Happiness and Misery: Which, because it will require a distinct Dissertation, we shall pass by, at present; reserving it for a more full Enquiry, when we come to treat more particularly of the Nature of Tragedy.

We have already, in a few Words, shewn, wherein the Advantages of Poetry consist; no one can be a Stranger to them: This Art will receive no less Honour, if we look back into its Antiquity. If it took its Rise from Love, (the Opinion, which, in Conformity with Vossius, we have above proposed as most probable) yet to Religion it owes its Increase and Progress; and it may be question'd, which of the two is its true Parent. Dacier calls it the Offspring of Religion; and it is certain, in the earliest Ages of the World it was usual to sing Hymns to the Honour of God upon the solemn Festivals; upon those especially, when after the In-gathering of Harvest they offer'd up to him the First-fruits, and prais'd him for the Blessings they were now in Possession of. In Course of Time, Poetry, which had hitherto depended wholly upon Nature, and knew not the Name of Art, by the Corruption of Mankind grew itself corrupted. To bring it back to its Purity, it was the Care of the wiser Part of Men to lay it under certain Laws and Regulations. From hence arose the Art of Poetry. \ It is a great Dispute among the Learned, what Nation produced the first Poets. The Greeks, who to their own refined Taste ascribe the Origin of all Learning and Arts, laid Claim, likewise, to this, and instanced in Orpheus, Linus, and Musæus, as the first Poets. But Vossius[16] proves it very probable that this Triumvirate of Poetry never existed; and that they are not proper, but common Names, derived from the old Phœnician Language. Be that as it will, (for I am little disposed to engage in so minute a Controversy) I agree with the same Vossius, that Shepherds (I may add, or Husbandmen) found out the Use of Poetry; and that they lived in Greece, near those celebrated Mountains and Springs, Helicon, Parnassus, Aganippe, Hippocrene, Pirene, and the like, that were therefore sacred to the Muses and Apollo. But still it does not appear, that Poetry owes its first Original to the Greeks, (for, as the forementioned learned Author goes on[17]) "if we examine this Matter by the Scripture, we shall find the People of God, the first Inhabitants of the Earth, from whom all Nations are descended, have the best Title to this Honour. Poetry flourished among the Israelites, not only before the Trojan War, but before the coming of Cadmus into Bœotia, who first taught the Greeks the Use of Letters. And tho' we were utterly ignorant of what is mentioned concerning the Hebrew Poetry, yet the Antiquity of Music would teach us that the Original of Verse must be owing to the Oriental Nations; for little Doubt is to be made but Singing begun in the very Infancy of the World. This is farther confirmed, from what we read of Jubal, the seventh from Adam, who is styled the Father of such as handle the Harp and Organ. Antiently, then, Musicians and Poets were the same."

But to examine still farther into the Origin of Poetry, (for what we have hitherto said relates only to the Subject, and the Authors, not to the immediate Occasion of it:) Now this seems to be owing to the Love implanted in Mankind of Imitation and Harmony. Vossius very undeservedly ascribes it to the three following Causes, viz. Nature, an Attempt to write Verse, and a finish'd Skill. By Nature he understands not only the ἑνφνἱα, or Happiness of Parts, but the ὁεμἡ, the Impetus, usually styled the Poetic Fire. I am very sensible of the Advantage of these, and of their Necessity to constitute a good Poet; but much doubt whether they are to be reckoned (what he and I both speak of) the efficient Causes of Poetry. No one can excel in Poetry, without a Genius peculiarly turn'd for it; but the Question is, what general Reason can be assign'd, that gives all Men, even those that have no Talent for it, as well as those that have, a natural Inclination to it. As to the poetic Fire, it may be reckoned a Concomitant of Poetry, but not the Cause of it. No more can an Attempt to write Verses, which is rather the Thing itself in its first State of Imperfection; much less can the Perfection of any Thing be the Cause of its being perfected; that's absurd, and a mere Contradiction in Terms.

The Reason, then, of the Thing in Question, must be fetch'd from the Love of Imitation and Harmony. To this Principle it is owing, that among the most barbarous Part of Mankind we meet with Attempts in Painting, Music, and Poetry. For it is a great Mistake to think that these Arts are consistent only with such refin'd Nations as are Mistresses of all other Arts: No, they are Things of an universal Nature, and agreeable, as it were, to all Mankind, from the very Composition of their Being. Only with this Difference, that in those Parts of the World where Learning and Manners are cultivated, these Arts are nurtur'd, and rise in Perfection; but where the People are rude, and unpolished, they suffer in the common Calamity of the Place. But still, even there, the Seeds shoot forth; witness those barbarous, uncouth Songs, the mean Instruments of Music, and imperfect Sketches in Painting, which are found, according to the Relation of Travellers, among the Indians, and almost Savage People of the North.

This Fondness of Mankind for imitating, proceeds, probably, from nothing else but their Desire of Knowledge and Power. To produce something out of nothing, is the peculiar Property of the Almighty: As Man, therefore, cannot create, it is his Ambition to approach as near to the Exercise of that Power, as his Nature will allow him; and that can be only by imitating Things already made.

His Passion for Harmony is no Wonder; because whatever we call beautiful arises from a just Proportion, and proper Arrangement of its Parts. It is this composes the whole Frame of the Universe; and the more perfect every Individual of it is, the greater Share of Harmony it possesses.

So much for the Original and Cause of Poetry. Of its Antiquity, in Comparison of Prose, I need say but very little, since that seems, beyond all Doubt, to have been prior to it, in Point of Time, tho' behind it in Dignity. Some, indeed, have asserted, that Poetry was the ancienter, out of a Zeal, I suppose, to its Honour, which needs no false Supports: But this Opinion is by no means credible. 'Tis certain, all Learners proceed, as Nature directs them, from the plainest and easiest Things, to those that are more compounded and difficult: For Men to speak Verse before Prose, is the same as if they should pretend to run, or dance, before they could stand, or walk. It is a very weak Argument, with which Strabo (as Vossius cites it) endeavours to maintain the contrary Opinion. To prove Verse the ancientest Way of Writing, he observes, that Prose is styled Oratio Pedestris, [as if we should say creeping Prose.] "Now Speech was carried, before it ventured to walk. Vossius artfully replies, that it was called Pedestris, not because Men against Nature condescended to it, but because they mounted above it, as it were, and left it upon the Earth: For Prose seems to creep, when compared with the Loftiness of Poetry. Now, to retort the Argument, there's no Doubt but Men walk'd first, before they ventured on Horseback." If any one would see more of this, he may consult Vossius. That Poetry, as an Art, flourish'd before Oratory, or that the celebrated Professors of the one are not so ancient as those of the other, is clear from History; but that Men spoke Verse before Prose, is past all Credit, or Probability.

If any Question should arise about the Prevalence of Nature and Art in Poetry, I cannot answer it better than in the Words of Horace[18]:

Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte, Quæsitum est; Ego nec studium sine divite vena, Nec rude quid prosit video ingenium; alterius sic Altera poscit opem res, & conjurat amice.

Some think, that Poets may be form'd by Art, Others maintain, that Nature makes them so. I neither see what Art without a Vein, Nor Wit without the Help of Art can do; But mutually they need each other's Aid. Roscom.

But if this is the Case, whence comes that Saying so common in every one's Mouth, That a Man must be born, not made a Poet; whereas, in Horace's Judgment, a Man is both born and made so? In answer to this, No more to be sure is intended by the Proverb, than that Strength of Genius enters more into the Composition of a Poet, than the Refinements of Art; tho' both are necessary to the forming him a great one. Writings that betray a true poetic Spirit, how unpolish'd soever they are, extort from us Praise and Admiration; but those that are cold and lifeless, tho' form'd upon the most scrupulous Observation of the Laws of Poetry, are neglected, or condemn'd. The Sloth or Inaccuracy of the one, demands our Censure; but the stupid Rigidness, and labour'd Dulness of the other, provokes at once our Rage, our Hate, and Disdain. It is of little Consequence that Horace seems to put these upon the Foot of Equality. A Poet that lays down general Rules in Verse, and in so short a Compass, cannot be supposed to enter minutely into every Distinction. Besides, the Saying above may be true in this Respect; that Poetry especially, and beyond all other Sciences, requires a Fecundity of Nature; and besides such a peculiar Turn of Wit, as is seldom found, and few are blest with.

And this is partly the Reason, why Poets were said to be inspired; partly, I say, for the chief Reason is probably owing to that Fire, or more than, human Impulse, called by the Greeks ἑνθυσιασμἱϛ, which distinguishes them from other Writers. That this was no real Inspiration in the ancient Poets, (except in those sacred ones that communicated God's Will to Mankind) nor is now so in the Moderns, I suppose needs no Proof; but it is certain, however, that not only the Poets said it was, but the Heathens, also, thought it divine. Hence arose that more than common Reverence, the Populace paid to them. Hence the Title given of them of sacred, and divine. Hence that solemn Invocation of the Muses and Apollo, and sometimes other Deities, with which the Poets, and the Poets only, introduce their Works.

I have no Inclination to spend my Time in examining into the Fables which have long since become an Appendage to Poetry, nor to search out the hidden Meaning of them: I leave that Task to those whom we call the Mythologists; let them, if they please, explain the Allegory of the two Tops of Parnassus, of the Number Nine among the Muses, the Mystery of the Wings of Pegasus, and of the Fountains rising at the Stroke of his Hoof. These, I would only observe, are the Stains of Poetry, contracted from the Corruption of Heathenism, which infected Religion no less with its trifling Puerilities; and it is but just that we, upon whom the clearer Light of Truth has shone, should at length learn to despise such ridiculous Tales, which, by Repetition, are now grown nauseous; and to refine Poetry, as well as true Religion, from the Dross and Alloy of Falshood.

There are some other Things, of less Moment, which I shall pass over with barely mentioning. Poets had anciently Crowns of Laurel and Ivy, to denote by those Ever-greens the Immortality they gain to themselves, and confer on others. Mountains, Groves, and Springs, were sacred to the Muses, because Poets naturally fly from the Noise and Tumult of the City, to the peaceful Solitude of the Country; that so, disengaged from Care and Interruption, they may dedicate the utmost Efforts of Nature to their beloved Profession: Besides,

Carmina secessum scribentis, & otia quærunt[19]:

Leisure and green Retreats the Poets court.

Because Verse flows naturally there, and the Fancy is strangely awaken'd into Poetry with the Pleasures of Solitude around it.

Lastly, Another Question may possibly be ask'd, and deservedly too, (for it is a Matter of some Importance to know) how far Poetry and Oratory agree, and wherein they differ. To give a direct Answer to this, we say, that Eloquence is common to both; Eloquence, therefore, ought to be consider'd as twofold; that of Oratory, and that of Poetry. Those Things that come under the Title of Eloquence in general, relate to both Arts; such as, Topicks of Praise, whether of Persons, Facts, or Things; Topicks of Exhortation, Congratulation, Consolation, and the like, with which the Orator, as well as the Poet, excites Anger, Love, Pity, and all other Passions. Both observe alike a proper Decorum of Manners, according to Age, Fortune, and Condition of Life. Ardent Expressions, and lively Thoughts, are the Embellishments of both. In both the Diction is elevated, or familiar, grave, florid, or strong, as Occasion serves. For all these Things, as I said before, are Branches of Eloquence in general, are drawn from the same Heads of Invention, and illustrated by Examples fetch'd from Orators or Poets. So that it is impossible almost for him that treats of one of these Arts, not to mention some Things that are in common to both. However, the Difference between them is very great; and Poetry has several other Characteristics besides that of Metre; a Style, for instance, peculiar to itself, Fiction, copious Descriptions, poetic Fire, and (to add no more) a certain Licence, denied to Orators, in the due Exercise of which the Poet's Art is chiefly conspicuous. These are all worthy an accurate and distinct Consideration, and such an one hereafter, perhaps, they may come under.

The technical Measure of Verses, and the different Sorts of them, I leave to the Grammarians, whose Business it is to scan Syllables, to weigh Dactyls and Spondees, Trochees and Iambics; to teach the Difference between Heroic, Elegiac, Alcaic, Sapphic, Anapæstic Verse, and many others, with which the fruitful Field of Poetry abounds: Not that these Things are to be despised: but only as they are more proper to be taught in the School, than the University. It is not my Business to dwell upon so barren a Soil, or to trifle my Time about the Externals of Poetry; but to enter into the Spirit of it, and make Things, not Words, the Subject of my Enquiries.

LECTURE IV, V, VI, VII.
Of the Style of Poetry.

My present Design being to give some Account of the Thought and Diction peculiar to Poets, I must first premise, that there are many Things relating to this Subject, which Words can scarce come up to, and are much better conceived than expressed. Every one will be satisfied of this, that considers of how delicate a Nature Poetry is; how variously it diversifies both Words and Things, by such Bounds as have a very close Connection, upon which, however, the Beauty of the Thought and Diction often turns[20]. These, tho' clearly enough distinguished in the Mind; yet, such is the Weakness of Words, can never be explained in Writing. A true Judgment, duly exercised in reading the best Poets, and in making proper Reflections upon them, is the only Means of arriving at this Part of Knowledge. The outer Lines of it, which afford proper Matter for a Dissertation, I shall endeavour to represent to you, as well as I can.

But I would here, likewise, farther observe, that Writing and Thinking are (at least ought to be) so nearly allied, that it is impossible for any one, in treating of Style, not to mention some Things that relate to Thought likewise. This, therefore, will be my Case. At present, however, I shall confine my self chiefly to the former, reserving the latter for another intire Dissertation.

By Style I understand a Method of Writing peculiar to every Writer, Art, or Science; or that which distinguishes Writings and Writers from one another. The Beauty of it consists in such a proper Choice of Words, and in so apt a Connexion of them, as may express the Conceptions of the Mind clearly, and at the same Time cloathed with a becoming Dignity. The Style of Poetry is extremely various; because every Species of this divine Art has a Diction proper to itself; we shall just touch upon the several Kinds in this Dissertation, as we shall treat more fully, perhaps, of each, when we come to examine them separately. Our chief Business, at present, is, to speak of the Style of Poetry in general, and shew wherein the Difference consists between that and Prose.

Now this is so great, that the Poets use many Phrases, even with the greatest Elegance, which a Prose Writer could not, without the Imputation of false Latin, or the Guilt of Solecism. Instances of such Expressions, reducible to no certain Rule, are very frequent. To mention only a few: Adjectives and Participles that describe the Situation or Part of the Body, very elegantly require the following Noun to be put in the accusative Case, in Imitation of the Greek Construction; v.g. Stratus membra sub arbuto; Ære caput refulgens; saucius ora; Lacerum crudeliter ora, and the like[21].

Adjectives of the Neuter Gender, and singular Number, and sometimes of the plural, are used adverbially. So, Triste micans; Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, dulce loquentem; Cometa ferale rubens; torva tuentem, &c.

Many Adjectives govern a Genitive, in a Manner altogether poetical. Irritus incepti; non modicus voti; melior dextræ; Pubes læta laborum; egregius linguæ; Pravus togæ, inglorius ausi; anhelus laboris; integer vitæ scelerisque purus; lassus maris & viarum, militiæque; seri studiorum; fortunatus laborum; fessi rerum; trepidi rerum; and numberless others of the same Sort. Often, likewise, and with no less Elegance, they govern an Infinitive: Orpheus blandus ducere quercus; superare pugnis nobilis; celer sequi; vultus nimium lubricus aspici; durus componere versus; Adria facilis moveri; fortis tractare serpentes; doctus Phœbi dicere laudes; cantare periti; and the like.

Adjectives, and their Substantives, denoting Number and Multitude, are used in the singular Number: As, Populus frequens; multa rosa; innumera avis; quam multo repetet Græcia milite; licet illi plurima manet lacrima.

To mention but one Observation more: Some Adjectives, which in common Prose agree with their Substantives, are turned into the Neuter Gender and plural Number, and the Substantives into the Genitive Case: As, Ultima mundi; ardua montis; cuncta terrarum; prospera rerum; dura rerum; aspera ponti; acuta belli; strata viarum; opaca locorum; and many more to the like Purpose.

It would be endless, to produce all the Examples that come under these Rules; they abound in every Page almost of the best Poets, especially the Lyric: For the Lyrics chiefly delight in the true poetic Style, as may be collected from the Examples I have here produced, most of them from the Odes of Horace. But there are, besides, various poetical Expressions, which tho' not reducible to any particular Class, yet occur up and down in Reading, and are worthy of treasuring up in the Memory. Such are frequent in Virgil:

----dederatque comam diffundere ventis[22].

And giv'n the Winds, To wanton in her Tresses.

Ut cum carceribus sese effudêre quadrigæ, Addunt se in spatia, & frustra retinacula tendens Fertur equis auriga, neque audit currus habenas[23].

As when the Racers from the Barriers start, Oft whirling round the Goal, the Charioteer Vainly attempts to check the flying Steeds. Himself is born away, the dusty Car Swift smoaks along, nor bounding hears the Reins.

And many in Juvenal:

Sic laudamus equum, facilis cui plurima palma Fervet, & exultat rauco victoria Circo: Nobilis hic, quocunque venit de gramine, cujus Clara fuga ante alios, & primus in æquore pulvis[24].

We commend a Horse (Without Regard of Pasture, or of Breed) For his undaunted Mettle, and his Speed;

Who wins most Plates, with greatest Ease, and first Prints with his Hoofs his Conquest on the Dust. G. Stephens.

But especially in the Prince of the Lyric Poets:

[25] ——amat Janua limen.

In rusty Silence mourns your Gate. Oldsworth.

[26] —& ademptus Hector Tradidit fessis leviora tolli Pergama Graiis.

[27] Qua pinus ingens, albaque populus, Umbram hospitalem consociare amant Ramis, & obliquo laborat Lympha fugax trepidare rivo.

There where the Poplar and the stately Pine Meet in a Shade, and closely twine, To form the Bow'r with thick entangled Bows, And where the limpid Stream in curling Murmurs flows. Oldsworth.

[28] Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus, Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro? Cui flavam religas comam, Simplex munditiis?

Beneath the rosy Bow'r, Chloë, what am'rous Boy Sweet as the dewy Flow'r Now tastes your Lips, (Delusive Joy!) Now leaning on your Breast, Urges to be supremely blest? For whom do you prepare (Neat Negligence of Dress!) The Tresses of your golden Hair? &c.

[29] Vivet extento Proculeius ævo, Notus in fratres animi paterni; Illum aget, penna metuente solvi, Fama superstes.

When Fame of Proculeius sings, She mounts on everlasting Wings; His free and gen'rous Actions prove A Father's in a Brother's Love. Oldsworth. [30] Brachia, & vultum, teretesque suras, Integer laudo; fuge suspicari, Cujus octavum trepidavit ætas Claudere lustrum.

Her Face, her Neck, her Breast, her Arms, I praise, not taken with her Charms; Suspicious Thoughts remove; Let almost forty feeble Years Secure thy Mind from jealous Fears, And tell that Horace is too old for Love. Oldsworth.

I shall omit any more Examples; tho' what I have hitherto laid before you, I dare say, have brought their own Reward with them, as they are true Specimens of poetic Elegance, and abundantly illustrate what I had to say upon this Head. To alledge all that relate to it, would be only to transcribe the greatest Part of the best Poets. And as the Beauty of the poetic Style chiefly consists in its own Peculiarities, those that would thoroughly understand it, must endeavour, with Diligence and Application, to make it familiar to them.

Nor is the Style of Poetry distinct from Oratory in Greek and Latin only; the same Difference runs thro' all Tongues, both modern and ancient, English as well as foreign. To this is owing that Difficulty, which the Learners of a new Language complain of much more in reading the Poets, than the Prose Writers. The Reason why the former use such a Variety of Style so remote from that of the latter, seems to be owing to this; that as Poetry requires a peculiar Way of Thinking, it affects, likewise, a peculiar Manner of Writing and Speaking, that so it may be set off at as great a Distance from Prose as possible. Besides, as it is confined within the strict Rules of Measure, it is but just to allow it a greater Liberty of Diction, and so compensate, in some Degree, that Inconvenience with this Advantage.

The Expressions I have hitherto produced are purely poetical, which, beautiful as they are in Verse, if once resolved into Prose, become flat and insipid; you would acknowledge them, indeed, to be poetical Materials, but rudely scattered, and disjointed; and, as Horace describes it,

—Invenias disjecti membra Poetæ[31].

Dissected Fragments of a Poet's Limbs.

Other Phrases there are, which tho' not merely poetical, yet are much more suitable to Verse than Prose: They may well enough be used sparingly, and with Caution, by an Orator, or an Historian; but if they occur frequently, they are Blemishes in his Composition, and mere Affectation. Of this Stamp are, Campus pinguis sanguine; the Field now sated with Blood: Vela vento turgida; the turgid Sails: Duces sordidi pulvere honesto, or non indecora; with honourable Dust besmeared; and the like.

But tho' the Expressions above, that are purely poetical, or that are chiefly so, conduce much to the Beauty of a Poem, yet good Verse may be made of those only that are common to all Kinds of Writing. For Proof of this one Example shall suffice, from the Odes of Horace:

Sæpius ventis agitatur ingens[32] Pinus, & celsæ graviore casu Decidunt turres, feriuntque summos Fulmina montes.

Storms often vex the stately Oak, High Mountains feel the Thunder's Stroke; And lofty Tow'rs, when Winds prevail, Are ruin'd with the greater Fall. Creech.

In these Verses, tho' truly beautiful, there is not somuch as one Phrase, not one Word, but what might with Propriety be used in Prose. It is observable, however, that even these, and the like Expressions, when transposed, and taken out of Metre, lose all their Elegance: For tho' every Word, considered in itself, is agreeable to either Style, yet there is somewhat so distinguishing in the poetical, as throws a Beauty upon Words, which, out of Metre, would appear insipid, or absurd; and yet, tho' we are sensible of the Thing, it is impossible to assign a Reason for it.

Another Peculiarity there is in the Style of Poetry, that a Thing is often express'd, not by Name, but by some concomitamt Circumstance, or Adjunct belonging to it; by which Means the Mind is led on to an entire Conception of it, by pleasing Intervals, as it were, and a successive Gradation of Thought. Thus Virgil,

[33] Depresso incipiat jam tum mihi taurus aratro Ingemere, & sulco attritus splendescere vomer.

Ev'n then my Steers and Plough, In the deep Furrows shall begin to groan. Trapp.

Again,

[34] —prunis lapidosa rubescere corna.

And on the Plumbs the stony Cornel grew.

And in the same Book,

[35] Impositos duris crepitare incudibus enses.

Nor the Spatt'ring of the Steel, On Anvils form'd, and hammer'd into Swords.

These, perhaps, and the like, might be reduced to the Head of Descriptions; but they are very short and imperfect ones, and, if I may so speak, are from their very Imperfection the more perfect. The Mind of Man does not love to have every Thing too minutely laid before it; it pleases itself in having Room for Exercise, and to walk alone, as it were, without leading.

There are many other Things, which Poets chuse to express paraphrastically, and in short Descriptions, rather than in simple Terms. Every Body is acquainted with the usual little Images they give us (the larger ones I have at present nothing to do with) of the Morning, Night, Noon, and Evening; as

[36]Oceanum interea surgens Aurora reliquit.

Mean while Aurora rising from the Sea.

[37] Vertitur interea cœlum, & ruit Oceano nox.

Mean while the Hemisphere rolls round, and Night Swift rushes from the Sea.

[38] Nunc etiam pecudes umbras & frigora captant, Nunc virides etiam occultant spineta lacertas.

Our Cattle now the cooling Shades enjoy, Now the green Lizards lurk in prickly Brakes.

[39] Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbræ.

And now the Village Tops at Distance smoke. And lofty Shades from lofty Mountains fall.

So of Winter, Summer, Spring, and Autumn; as,

[40] Vere novo, gelidus canis cum montibus humor Liquitur, & Zephyro putris se gleba resolvit.

With Spring's first Op'ning, when dissolving Snows From hoary Mountains run, and Zephyr slacks The crumbling Glebe.

[41] —Jam venit Æstas Torrida, jam læto turgent in palmite gemmæ.

Now scorching Summer comes, And in the fruitful Tendrils swells the Gems.

Numberless other Descriptions there are of this Sort, which we admire in Poetry, and yet in Prose we should laugh at.

'Tis usual, likewise, in Poetry, (which is another Peculiarity) to denote Men, Places, Rivers, Mountains, by various Names taken from any of their Adjuncts. This is so well known, that I have no need, out of the Multitude of Examples, to produce any. 'Tis no less common to put Particulars for Generals; thus Virgil:

[42] —Vestro si munere tellus Chaoniam pingui glandem mutavit arista, Poculaque inventis Acheloïa miscuit uvis.

If the Earth By your Indulgence chang'd Chaonian Mast For Corn, and from the new discoulour'd Grape With Acheloïan Bev'rage mingled Wine.

And in another Place,

[43] —Quot Ionii veniant ad littora fluctus,

How many Waves roll to th'Ionian Shore.

So Horace,

[44] —Tristitiam & metus Tradam protervis in mare Creticum Portare ventis.——

To Cretan Seas I give my Cares, The Sport of wanton Winds.

Again,

[45] —Nec mare Caspium Vexant inæquales procellæ.

Nor ruffling Storms still toss the Caspian Floods.

And a little after,

[46] —Aut Aquilonibus Querceta Gargani laborant.

Nor the bleak North torments th'Appulian Woods. Creech.

Not a little elegant is this Manner of Writing, since, by an agreeable Variety of Particulars, it continually represents to the Mind somewhat new, and sets before it fresh Entertainment; whereas Generals, being always the same, grow cold and lifeless, by their too frequent Repetition.

Tho' Oratory may seem to be more adapted to express our Conceptions, as being not confined by the Fetters of Metre; yet Poetry, it is certain, makes a stronger Impression upon the Mind, and conveys a livelier Image to the Imagination, and that at once with such Elegance and Brevity, as the Force of Prose can never come up to. In Proof of this, I might produce Multitudes of Examples; but none more full than that of Horace,

[47] ——enitescis Pulchrior multo, juvenumque prodis Publica cura.

And still shine out more bright and fair, The publick Grief, and publick Care. Oldsworth.

A Passage, this, entirely poetical, and not only beautiful in itself, but more proper to convey an Idea of the Thing intended, than all that the Power of Oratory can furnish.

To the Style of Poetry Descriptions likewise are almost peculiar. 'Tis true, they occur frequently in Prose; but then they are used either with Impropriety, or with Caution; or the Writings themselves are of a Kind that borders near upon Poetry, and therefore borrows Descriptions from it. Historians, indeed, describe Things, Places, and Persons; but not so much for the Sake of Ornament, as Necessity; that the Series of their Narration may appear clear and perspicuous to their Readers. Orators likewise attempt Descriptions, when they have Occasion for them to work upon the Passions. But neither the one nor the other affect them as a Decoration to their Writings, which Poets generally do very successfully, making use of these sort of Colourings, either of general Things or Particulars, in Miniature or at full Length, as Occasion serves, not only with a Design to move the Passions, but to please the Fancy. Great Judgment is required in the due Exercise of this Art, and a puerile Wit never betrays itself more apparently, than by forcing in Descriptions, out of mere Ostentation, that have no Connection with the Subject, and are consequently a Burden to it. But nothing is more beautiful, when a proper Choice is made of them; nothing more agreeable to the Nature of Poetry; few Things more peculiar to it. A Prose Writer does not only on Purpose use fewer Descriptions than the Poet, but in Reality is less capable of them. The very Essence of Poetry consists chiefly in Imitation; and such a Power it has in placing Things before the Eye of the Reader, as Prose entirely wants; and can be conceived only, not expressed[48]. An Historian might record the Omens and Prodigies that attended the Death of Julius Cæsar; but it is impossible he should come up to that admirable Description of them Virgil has left us. He might recount, for instance, the surprizing Eruption of Mount Ætna; but could never find out Words to represent it in so lively Colours as these,

[49] —Quoties Cyclopum effervere in agros Vidimus undantem, ruptis fornacibus, Ætnam, Flammarumque globos, liquefactaque volvere saxa?

How oft have we beheld Loud thund'ring Ætna from Vulcano's burst, Deluge with liquid Fire Cyclopean Fields, And toss huge Balls of Flame, and molten Stones?

Were an Historian to relate the Circumstance, in the Fourth Book of Virgil's Æneis, he would tell us at once, that Dido had struggled long with a secret Passion for Æneas; but no Expressions out of Verse, could fix in the Mind so strong a Sense of that inward Disease with which she labour'd, as those wonderful Lines at the Beginning of the Narrative:

[50] At Regina, gravi jamdudum saucia cura, Vulnus alit venis, & cæco carpitur igni.

But with consuming Care the restless Queen, Already bleeding, nourishes a Wound.

And what follows, all the Efforts of Prose can never equal: That, particularly, which the Poet subjoins, after he had described her sacrificing to the Gods, and consulting the Oracle:

[51] Heu! vatum ignaræ mentes! quid vota furentem, Quid delubra juvant? est mollis flamma medullas Interea, & tacitum vivit sub pectore vulnus.

Wretched the Ignorance Of Augurs! what, alas! do Vows or Shrines Avail, to heal her Frenzy? A soft Flame Feeds on her Vitals, and a living Wound Silent, uneven, bleeds inward in her Breast.

The whole Description is wonderful, and sufficiently testifies the Power of Poetry, beyond that of Prose. I beg Leave, however, to add one or two Instances more. The Poet describing the Queen just dying for Love, adds,

[52] Nunc eadem, labente die, convivia quærit; Iliacosque iterum demens audire labores Exposcit, pendetque iterum narrantis ab ore.

At Ev'ning she renews Her Banquets; fondly begs again to hear The Trojan Wars; again, while he relates, She listens fix'd, and hangs upon the Sound.

And a few Lines after:

[53] Sola domo mœret vacua, stratisque relictis Incubat; illum absens absentem auditque videtque; Aut gremio Ascanium, genitoris imagine capta, Detinet, infandum si fallere possit amorem.

Lonely she pines within the empty Court, Lies on the Couch which just before she left; Him absent, absent still, she hears and sees. Sometimes his Father's Image all her Soul Possessing, young Ascanius on her Lap She long detains; if possible, to cheat, With that Amusement, her unbounded Love.

Among the other fatal Predictions of the unhappy Queen's Death, an Historian might mention the foreboding Noise of the Scrietch-Owl; but would fall infinitely short of the inexpressible Elegance with which it is described in the two following Lines:

[54] Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo Sæpe queri, & longas in fletum ducere voces.

And on her Palace-Top The lonely Owl, with oft repeated Scream, Complains, and spins into a dismal Length Her baleful Shrieks.

I have produced, perhaps, already, too many Examples; but I cannot forbear adding one more, which exceeds Admiration itself: It is the Description of Tityos, in the Sixth Æneid, suffering Punishment in the Shades below.

[55] Necnon & Tityon, terræ omniparentis alumnum, Cernere erat: per tota novem cui jugera corpus Porrigitur; rostroque immanis vultur obunco Immortale jecur tundens, fœcundaque pœnis Viscera, rimaturque epulis, habitatque sub alto Pectore; nec fibris requies datur ulla renatis.

There Tityus, Son of the all-bearing Earth, One might behold: Whose Body's monstrous Bulk Lies stretch'd o'er nine whole Acres; and a huge Portentous Vulture, with her hooky Beak Pouncing his everlasting Liver, thrives Upon his Entrails, fruitful of their Pains; Rummages for her Meals, inhabits deep Beneath his Breast; nor do the Fibres find The least Relief from Torment still renew'd.

From the whole, I suppose it abundantly plain, that there is an Energy in the poetic Style, as it is much more adapted to copying Nature, than Oratory is, with all its Rhetoric.

Fifth Lecture.

'Tis farther to be observed, that figurative Expressions are far more frequent in Poetry, than Prose, as they are far more suitable to it; because it consists much more in the Embellishments of Style, in the Liveliness of Description, and impressing the Images of Things upon the Imagination. For tho' it rejects all false Colouring, and too great Affectation of Pomp, yet from the very Nature of it we may judge it takes in more real Ornaments than Prose. As to Tropes or Figures, as they are usually called, many of them are never used in Oratory, some but seldom, and very sparingly; others, again, agree naturally with it, particularly, the Irony, Metonymy, Synechdoche, and Metaphor. Tho' the last of these, for the Reason before alledg'd, is more the Property of Poetry. Some of the Figures are so familiar, and natural, that they are every Day used in common Speech, even by the Vulgar, of which Sort we may reckon those above, and some others. Metaphors never fail of being beautiful, when applied with mature Judgment, and a lively Wit; that is, when they are drawn from Nature, connect Ideas that have a due Relation to each other, and are not too much wrested to a foreign Sense. But nothing is more insipid, more ridiculous, or absurd, when these Rules are transgress'd in the Choice of them; which is the Case, very often, of our modern Writers, to their eternal Disgrace.

Nothing can shew more the Elegance of Metaphors, and their Agreement with Nature, than those that are taken from Men and living Creatures, and applied to Trees and Plants. For as these have a sort of Life ascrib'd to them (call'd the vegetative) and are really endued with it; the Transition is easy to Creatures of a higher Rank, that are endued with it in a more proper Sense. Hence we hear so often, not only among the Poets, but in Prose, and even in common Conversation, of Trees and Plants being alive or dead, healthy or sickly. Nay, often human Passions and Affections are attributed to them: Plants, in particular (to omit other Instances) are often said to love or hate this Soil or that. So Virgil, speaking of them,

[56] Sponte sua quæ se tollunt in luminis auras, Infœcunda quidem, sed læta, & fortia, surgunt.

Those which unbidden spring to upper Air, Steril, indeed, but strong and healthy rise.

And afterwards,

[57] Exuerint silvestrem animum, cultuque frequenti, In quascunque voces artes, haud tarda sequentur.

Will in Time unlearn Their salvage Temper, and not slow obey With frequent Culture, what your Art commands.

Again, in the same Book,

[58] Inque novos soles audent se gramina tuto Credere, nec metuit surgentes pampinus Austros.

To new Suns the Herbs Dare trust themselves; nor aught the tender Vine From rising Auster fears.

There are many other Metaphors of different Kinds, which tho' they may seem, as indeed they are, a little of the boldest, yet are agreeable to Nature, and true Elegance. As that of Virgil,

[59] Insequitur nimbus peditum;

A Storm of Foot succeeds.

And in another Place,

[60] —It toto turbida cælo Tempestas telorum, & ferreus ingruit imber.

An Iron Tempest, and a Storm of Darts Hovers aloft, and blackens all the Sky.

These lofty Metaphors, however, are to be used with great Judgment, for fear they should seem too far fetch'd, and the Style more swelling than weighty.

As I am now upon the Subject of Figures, I can't help making a Remark or two on those Books of Rhetorick that are usually read in Schools. They contain, indeed, many Things of Use, and worthy of Observation: But surely there's no Necessity that an Art designed for the Refinement of the Minds of Youth, should be treated of in so rough a Method, so full of dry, logical Definitions, as must be hard for Boys to understand, and much harder to remember. Nor is there any Need of all those Sub-divisions of Figures, one under another, which, when Boys have once made themselves Masters of, before they have Judgment enough to use them, they think their Business is to adorn their little Performances with these sort of Flowers, as they call them, and fling them in, at any Rate, without any Regard to Propriety: Their Style, by being thus overcharged, as it were, instead of appearing with fresh Vigour, abounds only with disagreeable Excrescencies. A Knowledge of these Things will be much better arrived at by Experience, than Precept: And every one that is conversant with the best Authors, that reads them with Understanding, and true Relish, cannot but be acquainted with all the Figures of Speech, and the Art of using them, tho' he never heard so much as their Names, or their Definitions.

It is common with all Sorts of Writers to express the same Thing by different Modes of Speech, and such Variety is often reckoned a Proof of their Elegance. Now Poets have in this Particular a greater Liberty allow'd them, than any other Writers, for the Reason I have often mention'd, because their Works consist more in Ornament and Decoration. But the Exercise of this Liberty ought to be conducted with great Judgment and Caution; lest, by an ill Use of it, the Style grow too luxuriant. The just Medium, and the vicious Extreme, cannot be better learnt than by making a Comparison between Virgil and Ovid. Both of them, you'll see, express the same Thought different Ways; the one never fails of Beauty, the other falsly aims at it. Ovid tells you the very same Thing, in many Words, and sometimes with very little Difference between them: Virgil illustrates one Thing in general, by distinguishing its several Species or Adjuncts, and his Description of each is perfectly new. A few Examples, out of many, will make this plain. Says Ovid,

[61] Omnia pontus erat, deerant quoque littora ponto.

For all was Sea, nor had the Sea a Shore. Sandys.

And in another Place,

[62] O! ego quantum egi! quam vasta potentia nostra est!

What Feats I've wrought! how mighty is my Pow'r!

And in the next Verse almost,

[63] —Sic est mea magna potestas.

—So mighty is my Pow'r.

In the Sixth Book Niobe magnifying her own Happiness, and extolling herself above Measure, boasts thus,

[64] Sum felix; quis enim negat hoc? felixque manebo; Hoc quoque quis dubitat? tutam me copia fecit. Major sum quam cui possit Fortuna nocere; &c. Excessere metum bona jam mea, &c.

Thrice happy I, for who can that contest? Or who deny that I shall long be blest? By Plenty crown'd I dread no Change of Fate, Despise both Fortune's Friendship, and her Hate. My Bliss is plac'd above the Reach of Fear, &c.

But to omit other Instances, only take a View of Narcissus in the same Poet, desperately in Love with himself:

[65] Cunctaque miratur, quibus est mirabilis ipse; Se cupit imprudens, & qui probat ipse probatur. Dumque petit, petitur; pariterque accendit & ardet: &c. Atque oculos idem qui decipit, incitat, error.

By his own Flames consum'd the Lover lies, And gives himself the Wound by which he dies. Addison.

And afterwards, as if all he had done was nothing, he only changes the Person, and brings in Narcissus himself speaking thus:

[66] Ille ego sum, sensi; nec me mea fallit imago; Uror amore mei, flammas moveoque, feroque; Quid faciam? roger? anne rogem? quid deinde rogabo? Quod cupio mecum est; inopem me copia fecit.

Ah! wretched me, I now begin, too late, To find out all the long perplex'd Deceit: It is myself I love, myself I see, The gay Delusion is a Part of me. I kindle up the Fires by which I burn, And my own Beauties from the Well return. Whom shou'd I court? how utter my Complaint?} Enjoyment but produces my Restraint,} And too much Plenty makes me die for Want,} Addison.

Very justly may the last Words, with some small Alteration, be applied to Ovid himself, in whom a Fecundity of Words occasioned a Barrenness of Sense. How far is this from him, qui nil molitur inepte, who ne'er attempts a Thought in vain? Virgil, I mean, much better entitled, in my Opinion, to that Character, than he for whom Horace design'd it. With how much greater Propriety does that divine Poet express the same Thing in different Ways, where he describes the Manner of Grafting and Inoculating?

[67] Et sæpe alterius ramos impune videmus Vertere in alterius; mutatamque insita mala Ferre pyrum, & prunis lapidosa rubescere corna.

Oft too we see one Tree's ingrafted Sprays Change to another's, nor repent that Change. The Pear's hard Trunk with alien Apples bend: And on the Plumb's the stony Cornel grew.

[68] Inseritur vero ex fœtu nucis arbutus horrida; Et steriles platani malos gessere valentes, Castaneæ fagos; ornusque incanuit albo Flore pyri, glandemque sues fregere sub ulmis.

But with a Filberd's Twig the prickly Arbutus Is grafted: Oft the barren Plane has borne The ruddiest Apples: Chesnuts bloom'd on Beech, The wild Ash blossom'd with the Flow'rs of Pears, Snow-white; and Swine crack'd Acorns under Elms.

By this Comparison of Ovid and Virgil, how tedious seem the Trifles, and how nauseous the Repetitions of the former; how various the Description, how diffusive, and yet how chaste the Elegance of the latter? The one with wonderful Art represents, as I said, the same Thing, or the same Thought, by different Species or Adjuncts; the other gives you the same Thing ten Times over, under the very same Species, by changing the Words only; from which superabundant Luxuriance, as his Style must needs want Nerves, so must his Readers Patience. I would not, however, condemn it throughout; he has many Passages that are worthy of Praise, and some, of Virgil himself. Of this Sort is that Description of the Fate of Niobe's Children:

[69] E quibus Ismenos, qui matris sarcina quondam Prima suæ fuerat, certum dum flectit in orbem Quadrupedis cursus, spumantiaque ora coërcet; Hei mihi! conclamat: medioque in pectore fixa Tela gerit, frœnisque manu moriente remissis, In latus à dextro paulatim defluit armo.

Of these Ismenos, who by Birth had been The first fair Issue of the fruitful Queen, Just as he drew the Rein, to guide his Horse Around the Compass of the circling Course, Sigh'd deeply, and the Pangs of Smart express'd, While the Shaft stuck engorg'd within his Breast: And the Reins dropping from his dying Hand, Gently he fell upon the yielding Sand. Croxall.

But in many Places, it must be own'd, he is guilty of that Luxuriance I just now mention'd; I cannot, therefore, sufficiently wonder at their Ignorance, who presume to compare him to Virgil. But of this, perhaps, I shall have a more convenient Opportunity hereafter; when I make a farther Comparison between some other Authors. I beg Leave, at present, as I have cited a remarkable Place out of Virgil's Georgics, to present you with one or two more, that are no less deserving your Attention: I am sure, nothing can shew the Force and Elegance of the poetic Style, more than what that Model of Perfection has left us, even upon the plainest, and most ignoble Subject. Among his Precepts of Agriculture, he gives you these, in the following Words:

[70] Sæpe etiam steriles incendere profuit agros, Atque levem stipulam crepitantibus urere flammis. Sive inde occultas vires & pabula terræ Pinguia concipiunt; sive illis omne per ignem Excoquitur vitium, atque exudat inutilis humor: Seu plures calor ille vias, & cæca relaxat Spiramenta, novas veniat qua sucrus in herbas; Seu durat magis, & venas astringit hiantes, &c.

Oft too it has been painful found, to burn The barren Fields with Stubble's crackling Flames. Whether from thence they secret Strength receive, And richer Nutriment: Or by the Fire All latent Mischief, and redundant Juice, Oozing sweats off; or whether the same Heat Opens the hidden Pores, that new Supplies Of Moisture may refresh the recent Blades: Or hardens more, and with astringent Force Closes the gaping Veins: &c.

Nothing can exceed the Beauty of this Passage, unless that where he describes the various Methods of Grafting and Inoculating:

[71] Nec modus inserere, atque oculos imponere simplex; Nam qua se medio trudunt de cortice gemmæ, Et tenues rumpunt tunicas, augustus in ipso Fit nodo sinus; huc aliena ex arbore germen Includunt, udoque docent inolescere libro. Aut rursum enodes trunci resecantur, & alte Finditur in solidum cuneis via: deinde feraces Plantæ immittuntur; nec longum tempus, & ingens Exiit ad cœlum ramis felicibus arbos, Miraturque novas frondes, & non sua poma.

Nor single is the Manner to ingraft, Or to inoculate. For where the Gems Bud from the middle Bark, and gently burst The filmy Coats; ev'n in the Knot is made A small Incision: From an alien Tree An Eye is here enclos'd, and taught to grow Congenial, blending with the humid Rind. Or else into the knotless solid Trunk They force a Cleft with Wedges; then insert The fertile Sprigs: Nor long the Time; to Heav'n The Tree with loaden Branches shoots away, Admires new Leaves, and Apples not her own.

I hope I shall deserve your Pardon for producing these Examples; they are of no ordinary Nature, for that very Reason because their Subject is so. I know very well, how absurd it would be to repeat to you, upon this Head, all the beautiful Passages that occur in the best Poets: What else would this be, but to transcribe the greatest Part of them? But I thought it not improper to give you these Specimens from the Georgics, that you might view in them the Force of Poetry and Virgil, who was able to throw such a Splendor upon so mean Materials, and make them at once the Pleasure and Envy of Posterity.

To shun the Repetition of the same Words, as much as possible, is a Precept not only applicable to Poets, but to all other Writers; because the same Sounds tire the Ears of the Reader. Here those Figures of Elegance, the Epizeuxis and Anadiplosis, are manifestly excepted. Some, however, out of a Detestation of this Fault, fall into a greater; and in their Zeal for Variety, by wresting Words from their natural Signification, are guilty of the very worst Fault in Writing, Obscurity. The best Writers never run into this Extreme, but chuse rather to repeat the same Words, than use others in an improper Sense, as may be seen very frequently in Virgil. It is probable, indeed, a Desire of Elegance first brought in a Diversity of Words; for if Convenience only were considered, each Conception of the Mind would have but a single Word appropriated to it: Whereas now, in learning a new Language, to our great Trouble we find many Words affixed to one Idea, or many Ideas to one Word. Nor is Disagreeableness of Sound to be avoided only in the Repetition of the same Words, but often (for the Rule does not always hold) in using different Words of the same Termination. As these in Juvenal:

—tarda per densa cadavera prorâ.

'Tis certain, in poetical Compositions we ought to have great Regard to Harmony, and to endeavour to captivate the Ear, as well as please the Imagination of our Readers. For tho' nothing is more contemptible than versus inopes rerum, nugæque canoræ, poor shallow Verse, mere bubbling Trifles, that have no other Recommendation but Sound; yet they err, on the other Hand, who have a View only to the Sense, and none to the Musick that should echo to it. This was the Case of many of our Countrymen, of Couley, particularly, and others of the last Age; who, studious only for the Beauty of Thought, neglected, or did not rightly understand the Melody of Verse: Till at length our Dryden arose, who added to English Poetry what it only wanted, Numbers, Harmony, and Accuracy; by which Means, if we are not too partial in our Judgment of ourselves, it now bears the Laurel from all the Nations in Europe.

The best Poets among the Antients were solicitous about the Disposal of their Words, as well as the Choice of them. It is an Elegance, which, tho' often unobserved, pleases the Mind insensibly. And yet any one, with the least Attention, will perceive, that there's not a little Difference, whether the same Word is placed in one Part of a Verse, or another. How much, for Instance; would that of Virgil

Admonet in somnis, & turbida terret imago

suffer in the Change, if it were read,

—& imago turbida terret!

Various Examples there are, of this Sort, which it would be needless to alledge. But I would here observe, that the Harmony of Verse does not only consist in its being free from all Asperity, and flowing gently with one steddy Course: Some Asperity is often necessary; a Poem may labour for the Want of, and offend the Ears even with its Smoothness. Many, therefore, much wrong their Judgment, who prefer Ovid, Claudian, and others, to Virgil, on this Account; because, forsooth, they find less Roughness in their Verse: Whereas the very Want of this is their Defect; and Virgil does not more excel them in Versification, than in every other Requisite of a good Poet. He is generally harmonious, full, and fluent; and if he does not always keep one even Tenor, this is not owing to any Inability, but, as we observed before, in another Particular, the Effect of his Choice. He knew it would be more grateful to his Reader to change, now and then, the usual Smoothness of Style, and mix with it somewhat of an agreeable Harshness. His Periods, likewise, he concludes very variously; generally, indeed, where the Verse ends, but often in different Parts of it, with this Foot or that, as the Sound requires. In the Conduct of this Variety, of as small a Moment as it may seem, there's no little Labour, nor less Elegance. It is rarely aimed at by Ovid, Claudian, Statius, and the rest, who fall short of Virgil in that boasted Sweetness of Verse, whenever his Subject demands it of him. It is a great Mistake to think Ovid's Negligence is a Matter of Merit, and that his Verses flow with the more Ease, for his Want of Care in their Composition; because, as it is urged, they are not so much the Effect of Study, as of Nature. Every Excellence in Writing must proceed from both; the more a Poem is laboured, the more natural it shall often seem; and its Stiffness may be owing to Neglect. To illustrate what I have said of Virgil, by one Example, out of many: In which of the abovemention'd Poets shall we find any Lines, I will not say that exceed in Harmony and Softness his Description of Orpheus and Eurydice, but come near it? The whole is sweet; but nothing can be more so than the following Part of it.

[72] Illa quidem Stygia nabat jam frigida cymba: Septem illum totos perhibent ex ordine menses, Rupe sub aëria, deserti ad Strymonis undam, Flevisse, & gelidis hæc evolvisse sub antris, Mulcentem tigres, & agentem carmine quercus. Qualis populea mœrens Philomela sub umbra Amissos queritur fœtus, quos durus arator, Observans, nido implumes detraxit; at illa Flet noctem, ramoque sedens miserabile carmen Integrat, & mœstis late loca questibus implet.

She, shiv'ring, in the Stygian Sculler sail'd: He, sev'n whole Months, 'tis said, beneath a bleak Aerial Cliff, on Strymon's Desart Bank, Wept lonesome; and in freezing Caves revolv'd This mournful Tale; while crouding Oaks admir'd His Lays, and Tygers soften'd at the Sound. As when, complaining in melodious Groans, Sweet Philomel beneath a Poplar Shade, Mourns her lost Young; which some rough Village Hind Observing, from their Nest, unfledg'd, has stole: She weeps all Night; and perch'd upon a Bough, With plaintive Notes repeated fills the Grove.

In reading these, and the like Passages, how naturally may we apply to the Poet, what he does to his Daphnis?

[73] Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta, Quale sopor fessis in gramine, quale per æstum Dulcis aquæ saliente sitim restinguere rivo.

Such, heav'nly Poet, is thy Verse to me, As Slumbers to the Weary on the Grass; Such as fresh purling Rills, in Summer's Heat, To thirsty Travellers.

And again,

[74] Nam neque me tantum venientis sibilus Austri, Nec percussa juvant fluctu tam littora, nec quæ Saxosas inter decurrunt flumina valles.

For neither does the Breeze Of whisp'ring Zephyr, when it rises fresh, Bless me so much: Nor Waves that beat the Shore; Nor Rivers, which thro' stony Vallies glide.

Whether it was from Chance, or Design, that these Verses, by their very Sound, represent the Thing they describe, is not worth enquiring. It is certain, some Words are so naturally formed for this Purpose, and Poetry for the proper Disposal of them, that this Felicity can't well be avoided; and 'tis to Chance alone we are often indebted for these beautiful Echo's. Sometimes, however, they are the undoubted Effect of Art. Whence soever they proceed, they frequently occur, and are an ample Proof of the Force and Elegance of the poetic Style. That of Virgil is well known, where we see the Ox knock'd down, and hear the Noise of his sudden Fall, and lumpish Weight,

[75] Sternitur, exanimisque tremens procumbit humi bos.

Down falls the Beast Dead, trembling, to the Ground.

In the same Book, in the Description of the Naval Course, we have the following Lines:

[76] Ille inter navemque Gyæ scopulosque sonantes Radit iter lævum interior, subitusque priorem Præterit, & metis tenet æquora tuta relictis.

He betwixt Gyas, and the sounding Rocks, Interior, skims the Left Hand Way, and swift Outstrips his Rival, and beyond the Goal Smooth shoots along, and gains the safer Seas.

What could better express the swift Motion with which the Ship brush'd by its Rival, and sail'd away clear of the Shelves, into the open Sea. In the last Verse, particularly, the Words seem with their Briskness to protrude one another, and skim away to the Goal. In another Part of the Description the same Image is thus represented:

[77] Agmine remorum celeri, ventisque vocatis, Prona petit maria, & pelago decurrit aperto.

With his rowing Crowd, And all the Winds invited to his Sails, Gains the prone Deep, and swiftly shoots away Upon the Ocean.

After this, follows that beautiful Comparison of the sailing of this Ship, and the Flight of the Dove, the Swiftness and Evenness of which is thus most admirably express'd:

[78] —Mox aëre lapsa quieto Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas.

Then smoothly gliding thro' the quiet Air, Skims the thin Way, nor moves her nimble Wings.

On the other Hand, how clearly do we see the dishonourable Tardiness with which the inglorious Ship drags on, after she had bulged upon the Rock?

[79] Cum savo à scepulo multa vix arte revulsus, Amissis remis, atque ordine debilis uno, Irrisam, sine honore, ratem Sergestus agebat.