Q. HORATII FLACCI EPISTOLA AD PISONES.
[]HUmano capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere ſi velit, et varias inducere plumas
Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum
Deſinat in piſcem mulier formoſa ſupernè;
Spectatum admiſſi riſum teneatis, amici?
Credite, Piſones, iſti tabulae fore librum
Perſimilem, cujus, velut aegri ſomnia, vanae
[2]Fingentur ſpecies: ut nec pes, nec caput uni
Reddatur formae. Pictoribus atque Poetis
Quidlibet audendi ſemper fuit aequa poteſtas,
Scimus, et hanc veniam petimuſque damuſque viciſſim:
Sed non ut placidis coëant immitia, non ut
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.
Incoeptis gravibus plerumque et magna profeſſis
Purpureus latè qui ſplendeat unus et alter
Aſſuitur pannus; cùm lucus et ara Dianae,
Et properantis aquae per amoenos ambitus agros,
Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius deſcribitur arcus.
Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortaſte cupreſſum
Scis ſimulare: quid hoc, ſi fractis enatat exſpes
Navibus, aere dato qui pingitur? amphora coepit
Inſtitui: currente rotâ cur urceus exit?
Denique ſit quidvis ſimplex duntaxat et unum.
[3]Maxima pars vatum, (pater, et juvenes patre digni)
Decipimur ſpecie recti. Brevis eſſe laboro,
Obſcurus fio: ſectantem laevia, nervi
Deficiunt animíque: profeſſus grandia turget:
Serpit humi tutus nimium timiduſque procellae.
Qui variare cupit rem prodigaliter unam,
Delphinum ſilvis appingit, fluctibus aprum.
In vitium ducit culpae fuga, ſi caret arte.
Aemilium circa ludum faber imus et ungues
Exprimet, et molles imitabitur aere capillos,
Infelix operis ſummâ, quia ponere totum
Neſciet: hunc ego me, ſi quid componere curem,
Non magis eſſe velim, quàm pravo vivere naſo,
Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.
Sumite materiam veſtris, qui ſcribitis, aequam
Viribus: et verſate diu, quid ferre recuſent
Quid valeant humeri.
[4]—Cui lecta potenter erit res,
Nec facundia deferet hunc, nec lucidus ordo.
Ordinis haec Virtus erit et Venus, aut ego fallor,
Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici,
Pleraque differat, et praeſens in tempus omittat.
Hoc amet, hoc ſpernat, promiſſi carminis auctor.
In verbis etiam tenuis cautuſque ſerendis,
Dixeris egregié, notum ſi callida verbum
Reddiderit junctura novum: ſi forté neceſſe eſt
Indiciis monſtrare recentibus abdita rerum,
Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis
Continget: dabiturque licentia ſumpta pudenter.
Et nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, ſi
Graeco fonte cadant, parcé detorta. Quid autem?
Caecilio, Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademptum
Virgilio, Varioque?
[5]—ego cur acquirere pauca.
Si poſſum, invideor; cùm lingua Catonis et Ennî
Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum
Nomina protulerit? Licuit, ſemperque licebit
Signatum praeſente notâ procudere nomen.
Ut ſilvae foliis pronos mutantur in annos;
Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit aetas,
Et juvenum ritu florent modò nata vigentque.
Debemur morti nos, noſtraque; ſive receptus
Terrâ Neptunus, claſſes Aquilonibus arcet,
Regis opus; ſteriliſve diu palus, aptaque remis,
Vicinas urbes alit, et grave ſentit aratrum:
Seu curſum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,
Doctus iter melius: mortalia facta peribunt,
Nedum ſermonum ſtet honos, et gratia vivax.
Multa renaſcentur, quae jam cecidêre; cadentque
Quae nunc ſunt in honore vocabula,
[6]—ſi volet uſus,
Quem penés arbitrium eſt, et jus, et norma loquendi.
Res geſtae regumque ducumque et triſtia bella,
Quo ſcribi poſſent numero, monſtravit Homerus.
Verſibus impariter junctis querimonia primúm,
Pòſt etiam incluſa eſt voti ſententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiſerit auctor,
Grammatici certant, et adhuc ſub judice lis eſt.
Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo.
Hunc ſocci cepêre pedem, grandeſque cothurni,
Alternis aptum ſermonibus, et populares
Vincentem ſtrepitus, et natum rebus agendis.
Muſa dedit fidibus divos, pueroſque deorum,
Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.
Deſcriptas ſervare vices, operumque colores,
[7]Cur ego, ſi nequeo ignoroque, poëta ſalutor?
Cur neſcire, pudens pravè, quàm diſcere malo?
Verſibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult.
Indignatur item privatis ac prope ſocco
Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyeſtae.
Singula quaeque locum teneant ſortita decenter.
Interdum tamen et vocem comoedia tollit;
Iratuſque Chremes tumido delitigat ore;
Et tragicus plerumque dolet ſermone pedeſtri.
Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper er exul uterque,
Projicit ampullas et ſeſquipedalia verba,
Si curat cor ſpectantis tetigiſſe querelâ.
Non ſatis eſt pulchra eſſe poëmata; dulcia ſunto,
Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent
Humani vultus;
[8]—ſi vis me flere, dolendum eſt
Primum ipſi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.
Telephe, vel Peleu, male ſi mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: triſtia maeſtum
Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum;
Ludentem, laſciva; ſeverum, ſeria dictu.
Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram,
Aut ad humum moerore gravi deducit, et angit:
Poſt effert animi motus interprete linguâ.
Si dicentis erunt fortunis abſona dicta,
Romani tollent Equites pediteſque chachinnum.
Intererit multum, Divuſne loquatur, an heros;
Maturuſne ſenex, an adhuc florente juventâ
Fervidus; an matrona potens, an ſedula nutrix;
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;
[9]Colchus, an Aſſyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.
Aut famam fequere, aut ſibi convenientia finge,
Scriptor. Homaereum ſi forte reponis Achillem,
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,
Jura neget ſibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.
Sit Medea ferox invictaque, flebilis Ino,
Perfidus Ixion, Io vaga, triſtis Oreſtes.
Si quid inexpertum ſcenae committis, et audes
Perſonam formare novam; ſervetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto proceſſerit, et ſibi conſtet.
Difficile eſt propriè communia dicere: tuque
Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,
Quàm ſi proferres ignota indictaque primus.
Publica materies privati juris erit, ſi
Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem;
Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus
Interpres; nec deſilies imitator in arctum,
[10]Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet aut operis lex.
Nec ſic incipies, ut ſcriptor cyclicus olim:
FORTUNAM PRIAMI CANTABO, ET NOBILE BELLUM.
Quid dignum tanto feret hic promiſſor hiatu?
Parturiunt montes: naſcetur ridiculus mus.
Quanto rectius hic, qui nil molitur inepte!
DIC MIHI, MUSA, VIRUM, CAPTAE POST MOENIA TROJAE,
QUI MORES HOMINUM MULTORUM VIDIT ET URBES.
Non fumum ex fulgore, ſed ex fumo dare lucem
Cogitat, ut ſpecioſa dehinc miracula promat,
Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cylope Charib⯑din.
Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,
Nee gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo:
Semper ad eventum feſtinat; et in medias res,
Non ſecus ac notas, auditorem rapit: et quae
Defperat tractata niteſcere poſſe, relinquit:
[11]Atque ita mentitur, ſic veris falſa remiſcet,
Primo ne medium, medio ne diſcrepet imum.
Tu, quid ego et populus mecum deſideret, audi;
Si fautoris eges aulea manentis, et uſque
Seſſuri, donec cantor, Vos plaudite, dicat:
Aetatis cujuſque notandi ſunt tibi mores,
Mobilibuſque decor naturis dandus et annis.
Reddere qui voces jam ſcit puer, et pede certo
Signat humum; geſtit paribus colludere, et iram
Colligit ac ponit temerè, et mutatur in horas.
Imberbis juvenis, tandem cuſtode remoto,
Gaudet equis canibuſque et aprici gramine campi;
Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus aſper,
Utilium tardus proviſor, prodigus aeris,
Sublimis, cupiduſque, et amata relinquere per⯑nix.
Converſis ſtudiis, aetas animuſque virilis
[12]Quaerit opes et amicitias, inſervit honori;
Conmiſiſſe cavet quod mox mutare laboret.
Multa ſenem circumveniunt incommoda; vel quod
Quaerit, et inventis miſer abſtinet, ac timet uti;
Vel quod res omnes timidè gelidèque miniſtrat,
Dilator, ſpe lentus, iners, paviduſque futuri;
Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti
Se puero, cenſor, caſtigatorque minorum.
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda ſecum,
Multa recedentes adimunt; ne forte ſeniles
Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles.
Semper in adjunctis aevoque morabimur aptis.
Aut agitur res in ſcenis, aut acta refertur;
[13]Segnius irritant animos demiſſa per aurem,
Quam quae ſunt oculis ſubjecta fidelibus, et quae
Ipſe ſibi tradit ſpectator. Non tamen intus
Digna geri promes in ſcenam: multaque tolles
Ex oculis, quae mox narret facundia praeſens:
Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet;
Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus;
Aut in avem Procne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.
Quodcunque oſtendis mihi ſic, incredulus odi.
Neve minor, neu ſit quinto productior actu
Fabula, quae poſci vult, et ſpectata reponi.
Nec Deus interſit, niſi dignus vindice nodus
Inciderit: nec quarta loqui perſona laboret.
Actoris partes Chorus, officiumque virile
Defendat: neu quid medios intercinat actus,
Quod non propoſito conducat et haereat apte.
[14]Ille bonis faveatque, et concilietur amicis,
Et regat iratos, et amet peccare timentes:
Ille dapes laudet menſae brevis, ille ſalubrem
Juſtitiam, legeſque, et apertis otia portis:
Ille tegat commiſſa, Deoſque precetur et oret,
Ut redeat miſeris, abeat fortuna ſuperbis.
Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco vincta, tubaeque
Aemula; ſed tenuis, ſimplexque foramine pauco,
Aſpirare et adeſſe choris erat utilis, atque
Nondum ſpiſſa nimis complere ſedilia flatu:
Quo ſanè populus numerabilis, utpote parvus
Et frugi caſtuſque verecunduſque coibat.
Poſtquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem
Laxior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno
Placari Genius feſtis impune diebus,
Acceſſit numeriſque modiſque licentia major.
Indoctus quid enim ſaperet liberque laborum,
Ruſticus urbano confuſus,
[15]—turpis honeſto?
Sic priſcae motumque et luxuriem addidit arti
Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita veſtem:
Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere ſeveris,
Et tulit eloquium inſolitum facundia praeceps;
Utiliumque ſagax rerum, et divina futuri,
Sortilegis non diſcrepuit ſententia Delphis.
Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum,
Mox etiam agreſtes Satyros nudavit, et aſper
Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit: eò quod
Illecebris erat et gratâ novitate morandus
Spectator functuſque ſacris, et potus, et exlex.
Verum ita riſores, ita commendare dicaces
Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere ſeria ludo;
Ne quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebitur heros
Regali conſpectus in auro nuper et oſtro,
Migret in obſcuras humili ſermone tabernas:
Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet.
[16]Effutire leves indigna tragoedia verſus,
Ut feſtis matrona moveri juſſa diebus,
Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.
Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina ſolum
Verbaque, Piſones, Satyrorum ſcriptor amabo:
Nec ſic enitar tragico differre colori,
Ut nihil interſit Davuſne loquator et audax
Pythias emuncto lucrata Simone talentum,
An cuſtos famuluſque Dei Silenus alumni.
Ex noto fictum carmen ſequar: ut ſibi quivis
Speret idem; ſudet multum, fruſtraque laboret
Auſus idem: tantum ſeries juncturaque pollet:
Tantum de medio ſumtis accedit honoris.
Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni,
Ne velut innati triviis, ac pene forenſes,
Aut nimium teneris juvenentur verſibus umquam,
[17]Aut immunda crepent ignominioſaque dicta.
Offenduntur enim, quibus eſt equus, et pater, et res;
Nec, ſi quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,
Aequis accipiunt animis, donantve coronâ.
Syllaba longa brevi ſubjecta, vocatur Iambus,
Pes citus: unde etiam Trimetris accreſcere juſſit
Nomen Iambeis, cum ſenos redderet ictus
Primus ad extremum ſimilis ſibi; non ita pridem,
Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures,
Spondeos ſtabiles in jura paterna recepit
Commodus et patiens: non ut de ſede ſecundâ
Cederet, aut quartâ ſocialiter. Hic et in Accî
Nobilibus Trimetris apparet rarus, et Ennî.
In ſcenam miſſus cum magno pondere verſus,
Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis,
Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.
Non quivis videt immodulata poëmata judex:
Et data Romanis venia eſt indigna poetis.
[18]Idcircòne vager, ſcribamque licenter? ut omnes
Viſuros peccata putem mea; tutus et intra
Spem veniae cautus? vitavi denique culpam,
Non laudem merui.
Vos exemplaria Graeca
Nocturnâ verſate manu, verſate diurnâ.
At veſtri proavi Plautinos et numeros, et
Laudavere ſales; niminum patienter utrumque
(Ne dicam ſtultè) mirati: ſi modo ego et vos
Scimus inurbanum lepido ſeponere dicto,
Legitimumque ſonum digitis callemus et aure.
Ignotum tragicae genus inveniſſe Camoenae
Dicitur, et plauſtris vexiſſe poëmata Theſpis
Quae canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora.
Poſt hunc perſonae pallaeque repertor honeſtae
Aeſchylus et modicis inſtavit pulpita tignis,
[19]Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno.
Succeſſit Vetus his Comoedia, non ſine multâ
Laude: ſed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim
Dignam lege regi: lex eſt accepta; Choruſque
Turpiter obticuit, ſublato jure nocendi.
Nil intentatum noſtri liquere poëtae:
Nec nimium meruere decus, veſtigia Graeca
Auſi deſerere, et celebrare domeſtica facta,
Vel qui Praetextas, vel qui docuere Togatas:
Nec virtute foret clariſve potentius armis,
Quam linguâ, Latium; ſi non offenderet unum—
Quemque poëtarum limae labor et mora. Vos ô
Pompilius ſanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non
Multa dies et multa litura coêrcuit, atque
Praeſectum decies non caſtigavit ad unguem.
[20]Ingenium miſerâ quia fortunatius arte
Credit, et excludit ſanos Helicone poétas
Democritus; bona pars non ungues ponere curat,
Non barbam, ſecreta petit loca, balnea vitat;
Nanciſcetur enim pretium nomenque poëtae,
Si tribus Anticyris caput inſanabile numquam
Tonſori Licino commiſerit. O ego laevus,
Qui purgor bilem ſub verni temporis horam!
Non alius faceret meliora poëmata: verum
Nil tanti eſt: ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quae ferrum valet, exſors ipſa ſecandi.
Munus et officium, nil ſcribens ipſe, docebo:
Unde parentur opes; quid alat formetque poêtam;
Quid deceat, quid non; quò virtus, quò ferat error.
Scribendi rectè, ſapere eſt et principium et fons.
Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt oſtendere chartae;
Verbaque proviſam rem non invita ſequentur.
[21]Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis;
Quo ſit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hoſpes;
Quod ſit conſcripti, quod judicis officium; quae
Partes in bellum miſſi ducis; ille profectò
Reddere perſonae ſcit convenientia cuique.
Reſpicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo
Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces.
Interdum ſpecioſa locis, morataque rectè
Fabula, nullius veneris, ſine pondere et arte,
Valdius oblectat populum, meliuſque moratur,
Quam verſus inopes rerum, nugaeque canorae.
Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo
Muſa loqui, praeter laudem, nullius avaris.
Romani pueri longis rationibus aſſem
Diſcunt in partes centum diducere. Dicas
Filius Albini, ſi de quincunce remota eſt
Uncia, quid ſurperet? poteras dixiſſe, triens. Eu!
Rem poteris ſervare tuam. Redit uncia: quid fit?
[22]Semis. An haec animos aerugo et cura peculi
Cum ſemel imbuerit ſperamus carmina fingi
Poſſe linenda cedro, et levi ſervanda cupreſſo?
Aut prodeſſe volunt, aut delectare poëtae:
Aut ſimul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae.
Quicquid praecipies, eſto brevis: ut cito dicta
Percipiant animi dociles, teneantque fideles.
Omne ſupervacuum pleno de pectore manat.
Ficta voluptatis causâ ſint proxima veris:
Ne, quodcumque volet, poſcat ſibi fabula credi;
Neu pranſae Lamiae vivum puerum extrahat alvo.
Centuriae ſeniorum agitant expertia frugis:
Celſi praetereunt auſtera poëmata Rhamnes.
Omne tulit punctum, qui miſcuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo.
[23]Hic meret aera liber Soſiis, hic et mare tranſit,
Et longum noto ſcriptori prorogat aevum.
Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignoviſſe velimus.
Nam neque chorda ſonum reddit, quem vult manus et mens;
Poſcentique gravem perſaepe remittit acutum:
Nec ſemper feriet, quodcumque minabitur, arcus.
Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis
Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit,
Aut humana parum cavit natura. quid ergo eſt?
Ut ſcriptor ſi peccat idem librarius uſque,
Quamvis eſt monitus, veniâ caret; ut citharoedus
Ridetur, chordâ qui ſemper oberrat eâdem;
Sic mihi qui multum ceſſat, fit Choerilus ille,
Quem bis terve bonum, cum riſu miror; et idem
[24]Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.
Verum operi longo fas eſt obrepere ſomnum.
Ut pictura, poëſis: erit quae, ſi propius ſtes,
Te capiat magis; et quaedam, ſi longius abſtes:
Haec amat obſcurum; volet haec ſub luce videri,
Judicis argutum quae non formidat acumen:
Haec placuit ſemel; haec decies repetita placebit.
O major juvenum, quamvis et voce paternâ
Fingeris ad rectum, et per te ſapis; hoc tibi dictum
Tolle memor: certis medium et tolerabile rebus
Rectè concedi: conſultus juris, et actor
Cauſarum mediocris, abeſt virtute diſerti
Meſſallae, nec ſcit quantum Caſcellius Aulus;
Sed tamen in pretio eſt: mediocribus eſſe poëtis
Non homines, non Dî, non conceſſere columnae.
[25]Ut gratas inter menſas ſymphonia diſcors,
Et craſſum unguentum, et Sardo cum melle pa⯑paver
Offendunt, poterat duci quia coena ſine iſtis;
Sic animis natum inventumque poëma juvandis,
Si paulum ſummo deceſſit, vergit ad imum.
Ludere qui neſeit, campeſtribus abſtinet armis;
Indoctuſque pilae, diſcive, trochive, quieſcit;
Ne ſpiſſae riſum tollant impune coronae:
Qui neſcit verſus, tamen audet fingere. Quid nî?
Liber et ingenuus; praeſertim cenſus equeſtrem
Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni.
Tu nihil invitâ dices facieſve Minervâ:
Id tibi judicium eſt, ea mens: ſi quid tamen olim
Scripſeris, in Metii deſcendat judicis aures,
Et patris, et noſtras; nonumque prematur in annum.
[26]Membranis intus poſitis, delere licebit
Quod non edideris: neſcit vox miſſa reverti.
Silveſtres homines ſacer interpreſque Deorum
Caedibus et victu foedo deterruit Orpheus;
Dictus ob hoc lenire tigres rabidoſque leones.
Dictus et Amphion, Thebanae conditor arcis,
Saxa movere ſono teſtudinis, et prece blandâ
Ducere quo vellet.
Fuit haec ſapientia quondam,
Publica privatis ſecernere, ſacra profanis;
Concubitu prohibere vago; dare jura maritis;
Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno.
Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit.
[27]—Poſt hos inſignis Homerus
Tyrtaeuſque mares animos in Martia bella
Verſibus exacuit.
Dictae per carmina fortes,
Et vitae monſtrata via eſt; et gratia regum
Pieriis tentata modis, luduſque repertus,
Et longorum operum finis; ne forte pudori
Sit tibi Muſa lyrae ſolers, et cantor Apollo.
Naturâ fieret laudabile carmen, an arte,
Quaeſitum eſt. Ego nec ſtudium ſine divite venâ,
Nec rude quid poſſit video ingenium: alterius ſic
Altera poſcit opem res, et conjurat amicè.
Qui ſtudet optatam curſu contingere metam,
[28]Multa tulit fecitque puer; ſudavit et alſit;
Abſtinuit venere et vino. Qui Pythia cantat
Tibicen, didicit prius, extimuitque magiſtrum.
Nunc ſatis eſt dixiſſe, Ego mira poëmata pango:
Occupet extremum ſcabies: mihi turpe relinqui eſt,
Et, quod non didici, ſane neſcire fateri.
Ut praeco, ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas;
Aſſentatores jubet ad lucrum ire poëta
Dives agris, dives poſitis in foenore nummis.
Si vero eſt, unctum qui rectè ponere poſſit,
Et ſpondere levi pro paupere, cripere atris
Litibus implicitum; mirabor, ſi ſciet inter-
Noſcere mendacem verumque beatus amicum.
Tu ſeu donaris ſeu quid donare voles cui;
Nolito ad verſus tibi factos ducere plenum
Laetitiae; clamabit enim, Pulchrè, bene, rectè!
Palleſcet; ſuper his etiam ſtillabit amicis
Ex oculis rorem;
[29]—ſaliet; tundet pede terram.
Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt
Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo: ſic
Deriſor vero plus laudatore movetur.
Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis,
Ea torquere mero quem perſpexiſſe laborant
An ſit amicitiâ dignus. ſi carmina condes,
Nunquam te fallant animi ſub vulpe latentes.
Quintilio ſi quid recitares: Corrige ſodes
Hoc, aiebat, et hoc. melius te poſſe negares,
Bis terque expertum fruſtra? delere jubebat,
Et male ter natos incudi reddere verſus.
Si defendere delictum, quam vertere, malles;
Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam inſumebat inanem,
Quin ſine rivali teque et tua ſolus amares.
Vir bonus et prudens verſus reprehendet inertes;
Culpabit duros;
[30]—incomptis allinet atrum
Tranſverſo calamo ſignum; ambitioſa recidet
Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget;
Arguet ambiguè dictum; mutanda notabit;
Fiet Ariſtarchus; non dicet, Cur ego amicum
Offendam in nugis? Hae nugae ſeria ducent
In mala deriſum ſemel, exceptumque ſiniſtrè.
Ut mala quem ſcabies aut morbus regius urget,
Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana;
Veſanum tetigiſſe timent fugiuntque poëtam,
Qui ſapiunt: agitant pueri, incautique ſequuntur.
Hic, dum ſublimis verſus ructatur, et errat,
Si veluti merulis intentus dedicit auceps
In puteum, foveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum
Clamet, io cives: non ſit qui tollere curet.
[31]Si curet quis opem ferre, et demittere funem;
Quî ſcis, an prudens huc ſe projecerit, atque
Servari nolet? dicam: Siculique poëtae
Narrabo interitum. Deus immortalis haberi
Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus Aetnam,
Inſiluit. Sit fas, liceatque perire poëtis.
Invitum qui ſervat, idem facit occidenti.
Nec ſemel hoc fecit; nec ſi retractus erit jam,
Fiet homo, et ponet famoſae mortis amorem.
Nec ſatis apparet, cur verſus factitet; utrum
Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triſte bidental
Moverit inceſtus:
[32]—certe furit, ac velut urſus
Objectos caveae valuit qui frangere clathros,
Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.
Quem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo,
Non miſſura cutem, niſi plena cruroris, hirudo.
HORACE's EPISTLE TO THE PISOS.
[]WHAT if a Painter, in his art to ſhine,
A human head and horſe's neck ſhould join;
From various creatures put the limbs together,
Cover'd with plumes, from ev'ry bird a feather;
And in a filthy tail the figure drop,
A fiſh at bottom, a fair maid at top:
Viewing a picture of this ſtrange condition,
Would you not laugh at ſuch an exhibition?
Truſt me, my Piſos, wild as this may ſeem,
The volume ſuch, where, like a ſick-man's dream,
[2]Extravagant conceits throughout prevail,
Groſs and fantaſtick, neither head nor tail.
" Poets and Painters ever were allow'd
" Some daring flight above the vulgar croud."
True: we indulge them in that daring flight,
And challenge in our turn an equal right:
But not the ſoft and ſavage to combine,
Serpents to doves, to tigers lambkins join.
Oft works of promiſe large, and high attempt,
Are piec'd and guarded, to eſcape contempt,
With here and there a remnant highly dreſt,
That glitters thro' the gloom of all the reſt.
Then Dian's grove and altar are the theme,
Then thro' rich meadows winds the ſilver ſtream;
The River Rhine, perhaps, adorns the lines,
Or the gay Rainbow in deſcription ſhines.
Theſe we allow have each their ſeveral grace;
But each and ſeveral now are out of place.
A cypreſs you can draw; what then? you're hir'd,
And from your art a ſea-piece is requir'd;
A ſhipwreck'd mariner, deſpairing, faint,
(The price paid down) you are ordain'd to paint.
On with your art! proceed as you begun!
Why dwindle to a cruet from a tun?
Simple be all you execute, and one!
[3]Lov'd ſire! lov'd ſons, well worthy ſuch a ſire!
Moſt bards are dupes to beauties they admire.
Proud to be brief, for brevity muſt pleaſe,
I grow obſcure; the follower of eaſe
Wants nerve and ſoul; the lover of ſublime
Swells to bombaſt; while he who dreads that crime,
Too fearful of the whirlwind riſing round,
A wretched reptile, creeps along the ground.
The bard, ambitious fancies who diſplays,
And tortures one poor thought a thouſand ways,
Heaps prodigies on prodigies; in woods
Pictures the dolphin, and the boar in ſtoods!
Thus ev'n the fear of faults to faults betrays,
Unleſs a maſter-hand conduct the lays.
An under workman of th' Aemilian claſs,
Shall mould the nails, and trace the hair in braſs,
Bungling at laſt; becauſe his narrow ſoul
Wants room to comprehend a perfect whole.
To be this man, would I a work compoſe,
No more I'd wiſh, than for a horrid noſe,
With hair as black as jet, and eyes as black as ſloes.
Select, all ye who write, a ſubject fit,
A ſubject, not too mighty for your wit!
And ere you lay your ſhoulders to the wheel,
Weigh well their ſtrength, and all their weakneſs feel!
[4]He, who his ſubject happily can chuſe,
Wins to his favour the benignant Muſe;
For him ſhall Eloquence her ſtores diſplay,
And beauteous Order trace and clear his way.
Order, I truſt, may boaſt, nor boaſt in vain,
Theſe Virtues and theſe Graces in her train.
What on the inſtant ſhould be ſaid, to ſay;
Things, beſt reſerv'd at preſent, to delay;
Guiding the bard, thro' his continu'd verſe,
What to reject, and when; and what rehearſe.
To words eſtabliſh'd by long uſage, true,
With innovations, or adoptions, few,
Happy your art, if by a cunning phraſe
To a new meaning a known word you raiſe:
If calling from the dark abyſs of time,
" Things unattempted yet in proſe or rhime,"
Oft ſtern neceſſity exacts ſome word,
By the ſtrait-lac'd Cethegi never heard;
Take without blame, yet take with coyneſs too,
The licence to your arduous ſubject due.
New, or but recent, words ſhall have their courſe,
If drawn diſcreetly from the Grecian ſource.
What Plautus and Cecilius ſafely claim,
Shall Rome in Virgil, and in Varius, blame?
[5]Or if myſelf ſhould ſome few words explore,
Shall I be envied for my little ſtore?
Cato, and Ennius, while our ſtyle was young,
With many a ſterling phraſe enrich'd our tongue;
And We, our Sires, and Sons, without a crime;
May ſtamp on words the coinage of the time.
As branching woods let fall, and change their leaves,
Our language too a change of words receives:
Year after year drop off the ancient race,
While young ones bud and flouriſh in their place.
Nor we, nor all we do, can death withſtand;
Whether the Sea, impriſon'd in the land,
A work imperial! takes a harbour's form,
Where navies ride ſecure, and mock the ſtorm;
Whether the Marſh, within whoſe horrid ſhore
Barrenneſs dwelt, and boatmen plied the oar,
Now furrow'd by the plough, a laughing plain,
Feeds all the cities round with fertile grain;
Or if the River, by a prudent force,
The corn once flooding, learns a better courſe.
The works of mortal man ſhall all decay;
And words are grac'd and honour'd but a day:
Many ſhall wake reviv'd, that now lie dead;
Many ſhall fade, and all their glories ſhed;
[6]Cuſtom alone their rank and date can teach,
Cuſtom, the ſov'reign, law, and rule of ſpeech.
For deeds of kings and chiefs, and battles fought,
What numbers are moſt fitting, Homer taught:
Couplets unequal were at firſt confin'd
To ſpeak in broken verſe the mourner's mind.
Proſperity at length, and free content,
In the ſame numbers gave their raptures vent;
But who firſt fram'd the Elegy's ſmall ſong,
Grammarians ſquabble, and will ſquabble long.
Archilochus, reſentment's bitter rage
Arm'd with his own Iambicks to engage:
With theſe the humble Sock, and Buſkin proud,
Shap'd dialogue; and ſtill'd the noiſy croud;
Embrac'd the meaſure, prov'd its eaſe and force,
And found it apt for buſineſs or diſcourſe.
Gods, and the ſons of Gods, in Odes to ſing,
The Muſe attunes her Lyre, and ſtrikes the ſtring;
Victorious Boxers, Racers, mark the line,
The cares of youthful love, and joys of wine.
The various outline of each work to fill,
If nature gives no pow'r, and art no ſkill;
[7]If, marking nicer ſhades, I miſs my aim,
Why am I greet with a Poet's name?
Or if, thro' ignorance, I can't diſcern,
Why, from falſe modeſty, forbear to learn?
A comick incident loaths tragick ſtrains:
Thy feaſt, Thyeſtes, lowly verſe diſdains;
Familiar diction ſcorns, as baſe and mean,
Touching too nearly on the comick ſcene.
Each ſtyle allotted to its proper place,
Let each appear with its peculiar grace!
Yet Comedy at times exalts her ſtrain,
And angry Chremes ſtorms in ſwelling vein:
The tragick hero, plung'd in deep diſtreſs,
Sinks with his fate, and makes his language leſs.
Peleus and Telephus, poor, baniſh'd! each
Drops his foot-half-foot words, and ſounding ſpeech;
Or elſe, what boſom in his grief takes part,
Which cracks the ear, but cannot touch the heart!
'Tis not enough that Plays are poliſh'd, chaſte,
Or trickt in all the harlotry of taſte,
They muſt have ppaſſion too; beyond controul
Tranſporting where they pleaſe the hearer's ſoul.
With thoſe that ſmile, our face in ſmiles appears;
With thoſe that weep, our cheeks are bath'd in tears:
[8]To make me grieve, be firſt your anguiſh ſhown,
And I ſhall feel your ſorrows like my own.
Peleus, and Telephus! unleſs your ſtyle
Suit with your circumſtance, I'll ſleep, or ſmile.
Features of ſorrow mournful words require;
Anger in menace ſpeaks, and words of fire:
The playful prattle in a frolick vein,
And the ſevere affect a ſerious ſtrain:
For Nature firſt, to every varying wind
Of changeful fortune, ſhapes the pliant mind;
Sooths it with pleaſure, or to rage provokes,
Or brings it to the ground by ſorrow's heavy ſtrokes;
Then of the joys that charm'd, or woes that wrung,
Forces expreſſion from the faithful tongue:
But if the actor's words belie his ſtate,
And ſpeak a language foreign to his fate,
Romans ſhall crack their ſides, and all the town
Join, horſe and foot, to laugh th' impoſtor down.
Juſt Dialogue, to every ſpeaker fit,
Their ſeveral rank and character ſhould hit;
Hero, or God; the Sire ſedate and grave,
Or the warm Youth to paſſion ſtill a ſlave;
Matron, or Nurſe; the Merchant us'd to roam,
Or Farmer ploughing his rich field at home:
[9]If Colchian, or Aſſyrian, fill the ſcene,
Theban, or Argian, note the ſhades between!
Follow the Voice of Fame; or if you feign,
The fabled plan conſiſtently ſuſtain!
If Homer's hero you bring back to view,
Shew your Achilles ſuch as Homer drew;
Active, warm, brave, impetuous, high of ſoul,
Calling to arms! and brooking no controul:
Fierce let Medea ſeem, in horrors clad;
Perfidious be Ixion, Ino ſad;
Io a wand'rer, and Oreſtes mad!
Should you, advent'ring novelty, engage
Some bold Original to tread the Stage,
True to the parent mould in which 'twas caſt,
Suſtain the character from firſt to laſt.
Yet hard the taſk to touch on untried facts:
Safer the Iliad to reduce to acts,
Than be the firſt new regions to explore,
And dwell on themes unknown, untold before.
Quit but the vulgar, broad, and beaten round,
The publick field becomes your private ground:
Nor word for word too faithfully tranſlate;
Nor leap at once into a narrow ſtrait,
[10]A copyiſt ſo cloſe, that rule and line
Curb your free march, and all your ſteps confine!
Be not your opening fierce, in accents bold,
Like the rude ballad-monger's chaunt of old;
" The fall of Priam, the great Trojan King!
" Of the right noble Trojan War, I ſing!"
Where ends this Boaſter, who, with voice of thunder,
Wakes Expectation, all agape with wonder?
The mountains labour! huſh'd are all the ſpheres!
And, oh ridiculous! a mouſe appears.
How much more modeſtly begins HIS ſong,
Who labours, or imagines, nothing wrong!
" Say, Muſe, the Man, who, after Troy's diſgrace,
" In various cities mark'd the human race!"
Not flame to ſmoke he turns, but ſmoke to light,
Kindling from thence a ſtream of glories bright:
Antiphates, the Cyclops, raiſe the theme;
Scylla, Charibdis, fill the pleaſing dream.
He goes not back to Meleager's death,
With Diomed's return to run you out of breath;
Nor from the Double Egg, the tale to mar,
Traces the ſtory of the Trojan War:
Still hurrying to th' event, at once he brings
His hearer to the heart and ſoul of things;
And what won't bear the light, in ſhadow flings.
[11]So well he feigns, ſo well contrives to blend
Fiction and Truth, that all his labours tend
True to one point, perſu'd from end to end.
Hear now, what I expect, and all the town,
If you would wiſh applauſe your play to crown,
And patient fitters, 'till the cloth goes down!
Man's ſeveral ages with attention view,
His flying years, and changing nature too.
The Boy, who now his words can freely ſound,
And with a ſteadier footſtep prints the ground,
Places in playfellows his chief delight,
Quarrels, ſhakes hands, and cares not wrong or right:
Sway'd by each fav'rite bauble's ſhort-liv'd pow'r,
In ſmiles, in tears, all humours ev'ry hour.
The beardleſs Youth, at length from tutor free,
Loves horſes, hounds, the field, and liberty:
Pliant as wax, to vice his eaſy ſoul,
Marble to wholeſome counſel and controul;
Improvident of good, of wealth profuſe;
High; fond, yet fickle; generous, yet looſe.
To graver ſtudies, new purſuits inclin'd,
Manhood, with growing years, brings change of mind:
[12]Seeks riches, friends; with thirſt of honour glows;
And all the meanneſs of ambition knows;
Prudent, and wary, on each deed intent,
Fearful to act, and afterwards repent.
Evil in various ſhapes Old Age ſurrounds;
Riches his aim, in riches he abounds;
Yet what he gain'd in fear, he fears to loſe;
And what he ſought as uſeful, dares not uſe.
Timid and cold in all he undertakes,
His hand from doubt, as well as weakneſs, ſhakes;
Hope makes him tedious, fond of dull delay;
Dup'd by to-morrow, tho' he dies to-day;
Ill-humour'd, querulous; yet loud in praiſe
Of all the mighty deeds of former days;
When he was young, good heavens, what glorious times!
Unlike the preſent age, that teems with crimes!
Thus years advancing many comforts bring,
And, flying, bear off many on their wing:
Confound not youth with age, nor age with youth,
But mark their ſeveral characters with truth!
Events are on the ſtage in act diſplay'd,
Or by narration, if unſeen, convey'd.
[13]Cold is the tale diſtilling thro' the ear,
Filling the ſoul with leſs diſmay and fear,
Than where ſpectators view, like ſtanders-by,
The deed ſubmitted to the faithful eye.
Yet force not on the ſtage, to wound the ſight,
Acts that ſhould paſs within, and ſhun the light!
Many there are the eye ſhould ne'er behold,
But touching Eloquence in time unfold:
Who on Medea's parricide can look?
View horrid Atreus human garbage cook?
If a bird's feathers I ſee Progne take,
If I ſee Cadmus ſlide into a ſnake,
My faith revolts; and I condemn outright
The fool that ſhews me ſuch a ſilly ſight.
Let not your play have fewer acts than five,
Nor more, if you would wiſh it run and thrive!
Draw down no God, unworthily betray'd,
Unleſs ſome great occaſion aſk his aid!
Let no fourth perſon, labouring for a ſpeech,
Make in the dialogue a needleſs breach!
An actor's part the CHORUS ſhould ſuſtain,
Gentle in all its office, and humane;
Chaunting no Odes between the acts, that ſeem
Unapt, or foreign to the general theme.
[14]Let it to Virtue prove a guide and friend,
Curb tyrants, and the humble good defend!
Loud let it praiſe the joys that Temperance waits;
Of Juſtice ſing, the real health of States;
The Laws; and Peace, ſecure with open gates!
Faithful and ſecret, let it heav'n invoke
To turn from the unhappy fortune's ſtroke,
And all its vengeance on the proud provoke!
The Pipe of old, as yet with braſs unbound,
Nor rivalling, as now, the Trumpet's ſound,
But ſlender, ſimple, and its ſtops but few,
Breath'd to the Chorus; and was uſeful too:
No crouded ſeats wedg'd cloſe, and cloſer ſtill,
Then aſking pow'rful blaſts their ſpace to fill;
When the thin audience, pious, frugal, chaſte,
With modeſt mirth indulg'd their ſober taſte.
But ſoon as the proud Victor ſpurns all bounds,
And growing Rome a wider wall ſurrounds;
When noontide revels, and the daylight bowl,
Licence on holidays a flow of ſoul;
A richer ſtream of melody is known,
Numbers more copious, and a fuller tone.
—For what, alas! could the unpractis'd ear
Of ruſticks, revelling o'er country cheer,
[15]A motley groupe! high, low; and froth, and ſcum;
Diſtinguiſh but ſhrill ſqueak, and droniſh hum?—
The Piper, grown luxuriant in his art,
With dance and flowing veſt embelliſhes his part!
Now too, its pow'rs increas'd, the Lyre ſevere
With richer numbers ſmites the liſt'ning ear:
Sudden burſts forth a flood of rapid ſong,
Rolling a tide of eloquence along:
Uſeful, prophetic, wiſe, the ſtrain divine
Breathes all the ſpirit of the Delphick ſhrine.
He who the prize, a filthy goat, to gain,
At firſt contended in the tragick ſtrain,
Soon too—tho' rude, the graver mood unbroke,—
Stript the rough SATYRS, and eſſay'd a joke:
For holiday-ſpectators, fluſh'd, and wild,
With new conceits, and mummeries, were beguil'd.
Yet ſhould the Satyrs ſo chaſtiſe their mirth,
Temp'ring the jeſt that gives their ſallies birth;
Changing from grave to gay, ſo keep the mean,
That God or Heroe of the lofty ſcene,
In royal gold and purple ſeen but late,
May ne'er in cots obſcure debaſe his ſtate,
Loſt in low language; nor in too much care
To ſhun the ground, graſp clouds, and empty air.
[16]With an indignant pride, and coy diſdain,
Stern Tragedy rejects too light a vein:
Like a grave Matron, deſtin'd to advance
On ſolemn feſtivals to join the dance,
Mixt with the ſhaggy tribe of Satyrs rude,
She'll hold a ſober mien, and act the prude.
Ne'er would I, Piſos, in the Sylvan ſcene,
Uſe abject terms alone, and phraſes mean;
Nor of high Tragick colouring afraid,
Neglect too much the difference of ſhade!
Davus may jeſt, pert Pythias may beguile
Simo of caſh, in a familiar ſtyle;
The ſame low ſtrain Silenus would diſgrace,
Servant and guardian of the Godlike race.
Let me on ſubjects known my verſe ſo frame,
So follow it, that each may hope the ſame;
Daring the ſame, and toiling to prevail,
May vainly toil, and only dare to fail!
Such virtues order and connection bring,
From common arguments ſuch honours ſpring.
The woodland Fauns their origin ſhould heed,
Take no town ſtamp, nor ſeem the city breed;
Nor let them, aping young gallants, repeat
Verſes that run upon too tender feet;
[17]Nor fall into a low, indecent ſtile,
Breaking dull jeſts to make the vulgar ſmile!
For higher ranks ſuch ribaldry deſpiſe,
Condemn the Poet, and withhold the prize.
To a ſhort Syllable a long ſubjoin'd
Forms an Iambick foot; ſo light a kind,
That when ſix pure Iambicks roll'd along,
So nimbly mov'd, ſo trippingly the ſong,
The feet to half their number loſt their claim,
And Trimeter Iambicks was their name.
Hence, that the meaſure might more grave appear,
And with a ſlower march approach the ear,
From the fourth foot, and ſecond, not diſplac'd,
The ſteady ſpondee kindly it embrac'd;
Then in firm union ſocially unites,
Admitting the ally to equal rights.
Accius, and Ennius lines, thus duly wrought,
In their bold Trimeters but rarely ſought:
Yet ſcenes o'erloaded with a verſe of lead,
A maſs of heavy numbers on their head,
Speak careleſs haſte, neglect in ev'ry part,
Or ſhameful ignorance of the Poet's art.
" Not ev'ry Critick ſpies a faulty ſtrain,
And pardon Roman Poets ſhould diſdain."
[18]Shall I then all regard, all labour ſlight,
Break looſe at once, and all at random write?
Or ſhall I fear that all my faults deſcry,
Viewing my errors with an Eagle eye,
And thence correctneſs make my only aim,
Pleas'd to be ſafe, and ſure of 'ſcaping blame?
Thus I from faults indeed may guard my lays;
But neither they, nor I, can merit praiſe.
Piſos! be Graecian models your delight!
Night and day read them, read them day and night!
" Well! but our fathers Plautus lov'd to praiſe,
" Admir'd his humour, and approv'd his lays."
Yes; they ſaw both with a too partial eye,
Fond e'en to folly ſure, if you and I
Know ribaldry from humour, chaſte and terſe,
Or can but ſcan, and have an ear for verſe.
A kind of Tragick Ode unknown before,
THESPIS, 'tis ſaid, invented firſt, and bore
Cart-loads of verſe about; and with him went
A troop begrim'd, to ſing and repreſent.
Next, AESCHYLUS, a Maſk to ſhroud the face,
A Robe devis'd, to give the peſon grace;
[19]On humble rafters rais'd a Stage, and taught
The buſkin'd actor, with his ſpirit fraught,
To breathe with dignity the lofty thought.
To theſe ſucceeded, with no little praiſe
The good OLD COMEDY of antient days;
'Till Liberty, grown rank and run to ſeed,
Call'd for tho hand of Law to pluck the weed:
The Statute paſt; the ſland'rous Chorus, drown'd
In ſhameful ſilence, loſt the pow'r to wound.
Nothing have Roman Poets left untried,
Nor added little to their Country's pride;
Daring their Graecian Maſters to forſake,
And for their themes Domeſtick Glories take;
Whether the Gown preſcrib'd an air more mean,
Or the Inwoven Purple rais'd the ſcene:
Nor would the ſplendour of the Latian name
From arms, than Letters, boaſt a brighter fame,
Had they not, ſcorning the laborious file,
Grudg'd time, to mellow and refine their ſtyle.
But you, bright hopes of the Pompilian Blood,
Never the verſe approve and hold as good,
'Till many a day, and many a blot has wrought
The poliſh'd work, and chaſten'd ev'ry thought,
By tenfold labour to perfection brought!
[20]Becauſe Democritus thinks wretched Art
Too mean with Genius to ſuſtain a part,
To Helicon allowing no pretence,
'Till the mad bard has loſt all common ſenſe;
Many there are, their nails who will not pare,
Or trim their beards, or bathe, or take the air:
For he, no doubt, muſt be a bard renown'd,
That head with deathleſs laurel muſt be crown'd,
Tho' paſt the pow'r of Hellebore inſane,
Which no vile Cutberd's razor'd hands profane.
Ah luckleſs I, each ſpring that purge the bile!
Or who'd write better? but 'tis ſcarce worth while:
So as mere hone, my ſervices I pledge;
Edgeleſs itſelf, it gives the ſteel an edge:
No writer I, to thoſe that write impart
The nature and the duty of their art:
Whence ſprings the fund; what forms the bard, to know;
What nouriſhes his pow'rs, and makes them grow;
What's fit or unfit; whither genius tends;
And where fond ignorance and dulneſs ends.
In Wiſdom, Moral Wiſdom, to excell,
Is the chief cauſe and ſpring of writing well.
Draw elements from the Socratick ſource,
And, full of matter, words will riſe of courſe;
[21]He who hath learnt a patriot's glorious flame;
What friendſhip aſks; what filial duties claim;
The ties of blood; and ſecret links that bind
The heart to ſtrangers, and to all mankind;
The Senator's, the Judge's peaceful care,
And ſterner duties of the Chief in war!
Theſe who hath ſtudied well, will all engage
In functions ſuited to their rank and age.
On Nature's pattern too I'll bid him look,
And copy manners from her living book.
Sometimes 'twill chance, a poor and barren tale,
Where neither excellence nor art prevail,
With now and then a paſſage of ſome merit,
And Characters ſuſtain'd, and drawn with ſpirit,
Pleaſes the people more, and more obtains,
Than tuneful nothings, mere poetick ſtrains.
The Sons of Greece the fav'ring Muſe inſpir'd,
Inflam'd their ſouls, and with true genius fir'd:
Taught by the Muſe, they ſung the loftieſt lays,
And knew no avarice but that of praiſe.
The Lads of Rome, to ſtudy fractions bound,
Into an hundred parts can ſplit a pound.
" Say, Albin's Hopeful! from five twelfths an ounce,
" And what remains?"—"a Third."—"Well ſaid, young Pounce!
[22]" You're a made man!—but add an ounce,—what then?"
"A Half." "Indeed! ſurpriſing! good again!"
From minds debas'd with ſuch a ſordid luſt,
Canker'd and eaten up with this vile ruſt,
Can we a verſe, that gives the Genius ſcope,
Worthy the Cedar, and the Cypreſs, hope?
Inſtruction to convey or give delight,
Or both at once to compaſs, Poets write.
Short be your precepts, and th' impreſſion ſtrong,
That minds may catch them quick, and hold them long!
The boſom full, and ſatisfied the taſte,
All that runs over will but run to waſte.
Fictions, to pleaſe, like truths muſt meet the eye,
Nor muſt the Fable tax our faith too high.
Shall Lamia in our ſight her ſons devour,
And give them back alive the ſelf-ſame hour?
The Old, if Moral's wanting, damn the Play;
And Sentiment diſguſts the Young and Gay.
He who inſtruction and delight can blend,
Pleaſe with his fancy, with his moral mend,
[23]Hits the nice point, and every vote obtains:
His work a fortune to the Soſii gains;
Flies over ſeas, and on the wings of Fame
Carries from age to age the writer's deathleſs name.
Yet there are faults that we may pardon too:
For ah! the ſtring won't always anſwer true;
But, ſpite of hand and mind, the treach'rous harp
Will ſound a flat, when we intend a ſharp:
The bow, not always conſtant and the ſame,
Will ſometimes carry wide, and loſe its aim.
But in the verſe where many beauties ſhine,
I blame not here and there a feeble line;
Nor take offence at ev'ry idle trip,
Where haſte prevails, or nature makes a ſlip.
What's the reſult then? Why thus ſtands the caſe.
As the Tranſcriber, in the ſelf-ſame place
Who ſtill miſtakes, tho' warned of his neglect,
No pardon for his blunders can expect;
Or as the Minſtrel his diſgrace muſt bring,
Who harps for ever on the ſame falſe ſtring;
From faults ſcarce ever free, the Poet thus
Appears to me a very CHAERIBUS,
Who twice or thrice, by ſome adventure rare,
Stumbling on beauties, makes me ſmile and ſtare;
[24] Me, who am griev'd and vex'd to the extreme,
If Homer ſeem to nod, or chance to dream:
Tho' in a work of length o'erlabour'd ſleep
At intervals may, not unpardon'd, creep.
Poems and Pictures are adjudg'd alike;
Some charm us near, and ſome at diſtance ſtrike:
This loves the ſhade; this challenges the light,
Daring the keeneſt Critick's Eagle ſight;
This once has pleas'd; this ever will delight.
O THOU, MY PISO's ELDER HOPE AND PRIDE!
THO' WELL A FATHER's VOICE THY STEPS CAN GUIDE;
THO' INBRED SENSE WHAT's WISE AND RIGHT CAN TELL,
REMEMBER THIS FROM ME, AND WEIGH IT WELL!
In certain things, things neither high nor proud,
Middling and paſſable may be allow'd.
A moderate proficient in the laws,
A moderate defender of a cauſe,
Boaſts not Meſſala's pleadings, nor is deem'd
Aulus in Juriſprudence; yet eſteem'd:
But middling Poets, or degrees in Wit,
Nor men, nor Gods, nor rubrick-poſts admit.
[25]At feſtivals, as muſick out of tune,
Ointment, or honey, rank, diſguſt us ſoon,
Becauſe they're not eſſential to the gueſt,
And might be ſpar'd, unleſs the very beſt;
Thus Poetry, ſo exquiſite of kind,
Of Pleaſure born, to charm the ſoul deſign'd,
If it fall ſhort but little of the firſt,
Is counted laſt, and rank'd among the worſt.
The Man, unapt for ſports of fields and plains,
From implements of exerciſe abſtains;
For ball, or quoit, or hoop, without the ſkill,
Dreading the croud's deriſion, he ſits ſtill;
For Poetry he boaſts no ſpark of fire,
And yet to Poetry he dares aſpire:
And why not? he's a Gentleman, with clear
Good forty thouſand ſeſterces a year;
A freeman too; and all the world allows,
" As honeſt as the ſkin between his brows!"
Nothing, in ſpite of Genius, YOU'LL, commence;
Such is your judgment, ſuch your ſolid ſenſe!
But if hereafter you ſhould write, the verſe
To Metius, to your Sire, to me, rehearſe.
Let it ſink deep in their judicious ears!
Weigh the work well; and keep it back nine years!
[26]Papers unpubliſh'd you may blot or burn:
A word, once utter'd, never can return.
The barb'rous natives of the ſhaggy wood
From horrible repaſts, and acts of blood,
ORPHEUS, a prieſt, and heav'nly teacher, brought,
And all the charities of nature taught:
Whence he was ſaid fierce tigers to allay,
And ſing the Savage Lion from his prey.
Within the hollow of AMPHION's ſhell
Such pow'rs of ſound were lodg'd, ſo ſweet a ſpell!
That ſtones were ſaid to move, and at his call,
Charm'd to his purpoſe, form'd the Theban Wall.
The love of Moral Wiſdom to infuſe
Theſe were the Labours of THE ANCIENT MUSE.
" To mark the limits, where the barriers ſtood
" 'Twixt Private Int'reſt, and the Publick Good;
" To raiſe a pale, and firmly to maintain
" The bound, that ſever'd Sacred from Profane;
" To ſhew the ills Promiſcuous Love ſhould dread,
" And teach the laws of the Connubial Bed;
" Mankind diſpers'd, to Social Towns to draw;
" And on the Sacred Tablet grave the Law."
Thus fame and honour crown'd the Poet's line;
His work immortal, and himſelf divine!
[27]Next lofty HOMER, and TYRTAEUS ſtrung
Their Epick Harps, and Songs of Glory ſung;
Sounding a charge, and calling to the war
The Souls that bravely feel, and nobly dare.
In Verſe the Oracles their ſenſe make known,
In Verſe the road and rule of life is ſhewn;
Verſe to the Poet royal favour brings,
And leads the Muſes to the throne of Kings;
Verſe too, the varied Scene and ſports prepares,
Brings reſt to toil, and balm to all our cares.
DEEM THEN WITH REV'RENCE OF THE HALLOW'D FIRE,
BREATH'D BY THE MUSE, THE MISTRESS OF THE LYRE!
BLUSH NOT TO OWN HER POW'R, HER GLORIOUS FLAME;
NOR THINK APOLLO, LORD OF SONG, THY SHAME!
Whether good verſe of Nature is the fruit,
Or form'd by Art, has long been in diſpute.
But what can Labour in a barren ſoil,
Or what rude Genius profit without toil?
The wants of one the other muſt ſupply;
Each finds in each a friend and firm ally.
Much has the Youth, who preſſing in the race
Pants for the promis'd goal and forermoſt place,
[28]Suffer'd and done; borne heat, and cold's extremes,
And Wine and Women ſcorn'd as empty dreams.
The Piper, who the Pythian Meaſure plays,
In fear of a hard maſter learnt the lays:
But if to deſp'rate verſe I would apply,
What needs inſtruction? 'tis enough to cry,
" I can write Poems, to ſtrike wonder blind!
" Plague take the hindmoſt! Why leave me behind!
" Or why extort a truth, ſo mean and low,
" That what I have not learnt, I cannot know?"
As the ſly Hawker, who a ſale prepares,
Collects a crowd of bidders for his wares,
The Poet, warm in land, and rich in caſh,
Aſſembles flatterers, brib'd to praiſe his traſh.
But if he keeps a table, drinks good wine,
And gives his hearers handſomely to dine;
If he'll ſtand bail, from ſuits poor debtors draw
Entangled in the cobwebs of the law;
Much ſhall I praiſe his luck, his ſenſe commend,
If he diſcern the flatterer from the friend.
Is there a man to whom you've given aught?
Or mean to give? let no ſuch man be brought
To hear your verſes! for at every line,
Burſting with joy, he'll cry, "Good! rare? divine!"
The blood will leave his cheek; his eyes will fill
With tears, and ſoon the friendly dew diſtill:
[29]He'll leap with extacy, with rapture bound;
Clap with both hands; with both feet beat the ground.
As mummers, at a funeral hir'd to weep,
More coil of woe than real mourners keep,
More mov'd appears the laughter in his ſleeve,
Than thoſe who truly praiſe, or ſmile, or grieve.
Kings have been ſaid to ply repeated bowls,
Urge deep carouſals, to unlock the ſouls
Of thoſe, whoſe loyalty they wiſh'd to prove,
And know, if falſe, or worthy of their love:
You then, to writing verſe if you're inclin'd,
Beware the Spaniel with the Fox's mind!
Quintilius, when he heard you ought recite,
Cried, "prithee, alter this! and make that right!"
But if your pow'r to mend it you denied,
Swearing that twice and thrice in vain you tried;
" Then blot it out! (he cried) it muſt be terſe:
" Back to the anvil with your ill-turn'd verſe!"
Still if you choſe the error to defend,
Rather than own, or take the pains to mend,
He ſaid no more; no more vain trouble took;
But left you to admire yourſelf and book.
The Man, in whom Good Senſe and Honour join,
Will blame the harſh, reprove the idle line;
[30]The rude, all grace neglected or forgot,
Eras'd at once, will vaniſh at his blot:
Ambitious ornaments he'll lop away;
On things obſcure he'll make you let in day;
Looſe and ambiguous terms he'll not admit,
And take due note of ev'ry change that's fit.
A very ARISTARCHUS he'll commence;
Not coolly ſay—"Why give my friend offence?
Theſe are but trifles!"—No; theſe trifles lead
To ſerious miſchiefs, if he don't ſucceed;
While the poor friend in dark diſgrace ſits down,
The butt and laughing-ſtock of all the town.
As one, eat up by Leproſy and Itch,
Moonſtruck, Poſſeſs'd, or hag-rid by a Witch,
A Frantick Bard puts men of ſenſe to flight;
His ſlaver they deteſt, and dread his bite:
All ſhun his touch; except the giddy boys,
Cloſe at his heels, who hunt him down with noiſe.
While with his head erect he threats the ſkies,
Spouts verſe, and walks without the help of eyes;
Loſt as a blackbird-catcher, ſhould he pitch
Into ſome open well, or gaping ditch;
Tho' he call luſtily "help, neighbours, help!"
No ſoul regards him, or attends his yelp.
[31]Should one, too kind, to give him ſuccour hope,
Wiſh to relieve him, and let down a rope;
Forbear! (I'll cry) for aught that you can tell,
By ſheer deſign he jump'd into the well.
He wiſhes not you ſhould preſerve him, Friend!
Know you the old Sicilian Poet's end?
Empedocles, ambitious to be thought
A God, his name with Godlike honours ſought,
Holding a worldly life of no account,
Leap'd coldly into Aetna's burning mount.—
Let Poets then with leave reſign their breath,
Licens'd and privileg'd to ruſh on death!
Who forces life on man againſt his will,
Murders the man, as much as thoſe who kill.
'Tis not once only he hath done this deed;
Nay, drag him forth! your kindneſs wo'n't ſucceed:
Nor will he take again a mortal's ſhame,
And loſe the glory of a death of fame.
Nor is't apparent, why with verſe he's wild:
Whether his father's aſhes he defil'd:
Whether, the victim of inceſtuous love,
The Blaſted Monument he ſtriv'd to move:
[32]Whate'er the cauſe, he raves; and like a Bear,
Burſt from his cage, and looſe in open air,
Learn'd and unlearn'd the Madman puts to flight,
They quick to fly, he bitter to recite!
What hapleſs ſoul he ſiezes, he holds faſt;
Rants, and repeats, and reads him dead at laſt:
Hangs on him, ne'er to quit, with ceaſeleſs ſpeech,
Till gorg'd and full of blood, a very Leech!
NOTES ON THE EPISTLE TO THE PISOS.
[]NOTES.
[35]I HAVE reſerved the Notes to this place, that the reader might be left to his genuine feelings, and the natural impreſſion on reading the Epiſtle, whether adverſe or favourable to the idea I ventured to premiſe, concerning its Subject and Deſign. In the addreſs to my learned and worthy friends I ſaid little more than was neceſſary to open my plan, and to offer an excuſe for my undertaking. The Notes deſcend to particulars, tending to illuſtrate and confirm my hypotheſis; and adding occaſional explanations of the original, chiefly intended for the uſe of the Engliſh Reader. I have endeavoured, ac⯑cording to the beſt of my ability, to follow the advice of ROSCOMMON in the lines, which I have ventured to prefix to theſe Notes. How far I may be entitled to the poetical bleſſing promiſed by the Poet, the Pub⯑lick muſt determine: but were I, avoiding arrogance, to renounce all claim to it, ſuch an appearance of Modeſty would include a charge of Impèrtinence for having hazarded this publication.
THE ART of POETRY, an EPISTLE, &c. Q. HORATII FLACCI EPISTOLA AD PISONES.
[]THE work of Horace, now under conſideration, has been ſo long known, and ſo generally received, by the name of The Art of Poetry, that I have, on account of that notoriety, ſubmitted this tranſlation to the Publick, under that title, rather than what I hold to be the true one, viz. Horace's EPISTLE TO THE PISOS. The Author of the Engliſh Commen⯑tary has adopted the ſame title, though directly re⯑pugnant to his own ſyſtem; and, I ſuppoſe, for the very ſame reaſon.
The title, in general a matter of indifference, is, in the preſent inſtance, of much conſequence. On the title Julius Scaliger founded his invidious, and injudicious, attack. De arte quaeres quid ſentiam. Quid? equidem quod DE ARTE, SINE ARTE traditâ. To ehe Title all the editors, and commentators, have [38] particularly adverted; commonly preferring the Epiſtolary Denomination, but, in contradiction to that preference, almoſt univerſally inſcribing the Epiſtle, the Art of Poetry. The conduct, however, of JASON DE NORES, a native of Cyprus, a learned and ingenious writer of the 16th century, is very remarkable. In the year 1553 he publiſhed at Ve⯑nice this work of Horace, accompanied with a com⯑mentary and notes, written in elegant Latin, in⯑ſcribing it, after Quintilian, Q. Horatii Flacci LIBER DE ARTE POETICA*. The very next year, how⯑ever, he printed at Paris a ſecond edition, enriching his notes with many obſervations on Dante and Pe⯑trarch, and changing the title, after mature conſi⯑deration, to Q. Horatii Flacci EPISTOLA AD PISONES, de Arte Poeticâ. His motives for this change he aſ⯑ſigns in the following terms.
Deſprez, the Dauphin Editor, retains both titles, but ſays, inclining to the Epiſtolary, Attamen ARTEM POETICAM vix appellem cum Quintiliano et aliis: ma⯑lim vero EPISTOLAM nuncupare cum nonnullis eruditis. Monſieur Dacier inſcribes it, properly enough, agree⯑able to the idea of Porphyry, Q. Horatii Flacci DE ARTE POETICA LIBER; ſeu, EPISTOLA AD PI⯑SONES, PATREM, ET FILIOS.
Julius Scaliger certainly ſtands convicted of cri⯑tical malice by his poor cavil at the SUPPOSED title; [40] and has betrayed his ignorance of the eaſe and beauty of Epiſtolary method, as well as the moſt groſs miſ⯑apprehenſion, by his ridiculous analyſis of the work, reſolving it into thirty-ſix parts. He ſeems, how⯑ever, to have not ill conceived the genius of the poem, in ſaying that it reliſhed of SATIRE. This he has urged in many parts of his Poeticks, parti⯑cularly in the Dedicatory Epiſtle to his ſon, not omitting, however, his conſtant charge of Art with⯑out Art. Horatius ARTEM cum inſcripſit, ADEO SINE ULLA DOCET ARTE, UT SATYRAE PROPIUS TOTUM OPUS ILLUD ESSE VIDEATUR. This comes almoſt home to the opinion of the Author of the elegant commentaries on the two Epiſtles of Horace to the Piſos and to Auguſtus, as expreſſed in the Dedica⯑cation to the latter: With the recital of that opinion I ſhall conclude this long note. ‘"The genius of Rome was bold and elevated: but Criticiſm of any kind, was little cultivated, never profeſſed as an art, by this people. The ſpecimens we have of their ability in this way (of which the moſt elegant, beyond all diſpute, are the two epiſtles to Auguſtus and the Piſos) are ſlight occaſional at⯑tempts; made in the negligence of common ſenſe, and adapted to the peculiar exigencies of their own taſte and learning; and not by any means the re⯑gular [41] productions of art, profeſſedly bending itſelf to this work, and ambitious to give the laſt finiſh⯑ing to the critical ſyſtem."’
Tranſlated from Horace.] In that very entertain⯑ing and inſtructive publication, entitled An Eſſay on the Learning and Genius of Pope, the Critick recom⯑mends, as the propereſt poetical meaſure to render in Engliſh the Satires and Epiſtles of Horace, that kind of familiar blank verſe, uſed in a verſion of Terence, attempted ſome years ſince by the Author of this tranſlation. I am proud of the compliment; yet I have varied from the mode preſcribed: not be⯑cauſe Roſcommon has already given ſuch a verſion; or becauſe I think the ſatyrical hexameters of Horace leſs familiar than the irregular Iambicks of Terence. Engliſh Blank Verſe, like the Iambick of Greece and Rome, is peculiarly adapted to theatrical action and dialogue, as well as to the Epick, and the more elevated Didactick Poetry: but after the models left by DRYDEN and POPE, and in the face of the living example of JOHNSON, who ſhall venture to reject rhyme in the province of Satire and Epiſtle?
‘9.—TRUST ME, MY PISOS!] Credite Piſones!’
[42]Monſieur Dacier, at a very early period, feels the influence of the perſonal addreſs, that governs this Epiſtle. Remarking on this paſſage, he obſerves that Horace, anxious to inſpire the Piſos with a juſt taſte, ſays earneſtly Truſt me, my Piſos! Credite Pi⯑ſones! an expreſſion that betrays fear and diſtruſt, left the young Men ſhould fall into the dangerous error of bad poets, and injudicious criticks, who not only thought the want of unity of ſubject a pardon⯑able effect of Genius, but even the mark of a rich and luxuriant imagination. And although this Epiſtle, continues Monſieur Dacier, is addreſſed in⯑differently to Piſo the father, and his Sons, as ap⯑pears by v. 24 of the original, yet it is to the ſons in particular that theſe precepts are directed; a con⯑ſideration which reconciles the difference mentioned by Porphyry. Scribit ad Piſones, viros nobiles di⯑ſertoſque, patrem et filios; vel, ut alii volunt, AD PISONES FRATRES.
Deſprez, the Dauphin Editor, obſerves alſo, in the ſame ſtrain, Porro ſcribit Horatius ad patrem et filios Piſones, PRAESERTIM VERO AD HOS.
The family of the Piſos, to whom Horace ad⯑dreſſes this Epiſtle, were called Calpurnii, being [43] deſcended from Calpus, ſon of Numa Pompilius, whence he afterwards ſtyles them of the Pompilian Blood. Pompilius Sanguis!
‘10.—THE VOLUME SUCH,] LIBRUM perſimilem.’ Liber, obſerves Dacier, is a term applied to all li⯑terary productions, of whatever deſcription. This remark is undoubtedly juſt, confirms the ſentiments of Jaſon de Nores, and takes off the force of all the arguments founded on Quintilian's having ſtiled this Epiſtle LIBER de arte poeticâ.
Voſſius, ſpeaking of the cenſure of Scaliger, "de arte, ſine arte," ſubjoins ſed fallitur, cum [...] putat eſſe ab Horatio; qui inſcripſerat EPISTOLAM AD PISONES. Argumentum vero, ut in Epiſtolarum caeteris, ita in hâc etiam, ab aliis poſtea appoſitum fuit.
‘19.—OFT WORKS OF PROMISE LARGE, AND HIGH ATTEMPT.] Incaeptis gravibus plerumque, &c.’ Buckingham's Eſſay on Poetry, Roſcommon's Eſſay on Tranſlated Verſe, as well as the Satires, and Art Poetique of Boileau, and Pope's Eſſay on Criticiſm, abound with imitations of Horace. This paſſage of our Author ſeems to have given birth to the follow⯑ing lines of Buckingham.
The following lines of Pope may perhaps appear to bear a nearer reſemblance to this paſſage of Ho⯑race.
‘34.—SIMPLE BE ALL YOU EXECUTE, AND ONE!] Denique ſit quidvis ſimplex duntaxat & unum!’ Suppoſing for a moment that the elder Piſo had actually ſubmitted ſome poetical effort to the judgement of Horace, it is natural to con⯑clude that the work was, in our Poet's opinion, of the character deſcribed in the opening of this Epiſtle: ſtudded with brilliant thoughts, and adorned with flowery paſſages; but void of plan, inco⯑herent, [45] irregular, and on the whole lame and imperfect.
‘49.—Of th' Aemilian claſs.] Aemilium circa ludum’—literally, near the Aemilian School; al⯑luding to the Academy of Gladiators of Aemilius Lentulus, in whoſe neighbourhood lived many Ar⯑tiſts and Shopkeepers.
Pope has given a beautiful illuſtration of this thought.
‘56.—SELECT, ALL YE WHO WRITE, A SUBJECT FIT.] Sumite materiam, &c.’
This paſſage is well imitated by Roſcommon in his Eſſay on Tranſlated Verſe.
Stooping to Lyrick Lays, though not inapplicable to ſome of the lighter odes of Horace, is not deſcrip⯑tive of the general character of the Lyrick Muſe. Muſa dedit Fidibus Divos, &c.
Pope takes up the ſame thought in his Eſſay on Criticiſm.
‘71.—A cunning phraſe.] Callida junctura.’
Jaſon de Nores and many other interpreters agree that Horace here recommends, after Ariſtotle, the artful elevation of ſtyle by the uſe of common words in an uncommon ſenſe, producing at once an air of familiarity and magnificence. Some however con⯑fine the expreſſion, callida junctura, to ſignify com⯑pound words. The Author of the Engliſh Commen⯑tary adopts the firſt conſtruction; but conſiders the precept in both ſenſes, and illuſtrates each by many beautiful examples from the plays of Shakeſpeare. Theſe examples he has accompanied with much ele⯑gant and judicious obſervation, as the reader of [48] taſte will be convinced by the following ſhort ex⯑tracts.
‘76.—THE STRAIT-LAC'D CETHEGI.] CINC⯑TUTIS Cethegis.’ Jaſon De Nores differs, and I think very juſtly, from thoſe who interpret Cinctutis [49] to ſignify looſe, bare, or naked—EXERTOS & NUDOS. The plain ſenſe of the radical word cingo is directly oppoſite. The word cinctutis is here aſſumed to expreſs a ſeverity of manners by an alluſion to an antique gravity of dreſs; and the Poet, adds De Nores, very happily forms a new word himſelf, as a vindication and example of the licence he recom⯑mends. Cicero numbers M. Corn. Cethegus among the old Roman Orators; and Horace himſelf again refers to the Cethegi in his Epiſtle to Florus, and on the ſubject of the uſe of words.
This brilliant paſſage of Pope is quoted in this place by the author of the Engliſh Commentary, [50] who has alſo ſubjoined many excellent remarks on the revival of old words, worthy the particular atten⯑tion of thoſe who cultivate proſe as well as poetry, and ſhewing at large, that ‘"the riches of a language are actually increaſed by retaining its old words: and beſides, they have often a greater real weight and dignity, than thoſe of a more faſhionable caſt, which ſucceed to them. This needs no proof to ſuch as are verſed in the earlier writings of any language."—"The growing prevalency of a very different humour, firſt catched, as it ſhould ſeem, from our commerce with the French Models, and countenanced by the too ſcrupulous delicacy of SOME GOOD WRITERS AMONGST OURSELVES, had gone far towards unnerving the nobleſt modern language, and effeminating the public taſte."—"The rejection of old wards, as barbarous, and of many modern ones, "as unpolite," had ſo exhauſted the ſtrength and ſtores of our language, that it was high time for ſome maſter-hand to interpoſe, and ſend us for ſupplies to our old poets; which there is the higheſt authority for ſaying, no one ever deſpiſed, but for a reaſon, not very conſiſtent with his credit to avow; rudem eſſe omnino in noſtris poetis, aut INERTISSIMAE NEQUITIAE eſt, aut FASTI⯑DII [51] DELICATISSIMI.—Cic. de ſin. l. i. c. 2."’
‘AS BRANCHING WOODS, &c.] Ut ſilvae foliis, &c.’ Mr. Duncombe, in his tranſlation of our Author, concurs with Monſieur Dacier in obſerving that ‘"Horace ſeems here to have had in view that fine ſimilitude of Homer in the ſixth book of the Iliad, comparing the generations of men to the annual ſucceſſion of leaves."’
The tranſlator of Homer has himſelf compared words to leaves, but in another view, in his Eſſay on Criticiſm.
[52]In another part of the Eſſay he purſues the ſame train of thought with Horace, and riſes, I think, above his Maſter.
‘95.—WHETHER THE SEA, &c.] Sive recep⯑tus, &c.’
This may be underſtood of any harbour; but it is generally interpreted to refer to the Portus Julius, [53] a haven formed by letting in the ſea upon the Lu⯑crine Lake, and forming a junction between that and the Lake Avernus; a work, commenced by Julius Caeſar, and compleated by Auguſtus, or Agrippa under his auſpices. Regis opus! Both theſe lakes (ſays Martin) were in Campania: the former was deſtroyed by an earthquake; but the latter is the preſent Lago d'Averno. Strabo, the Geographer, who, as well as our Poet, was living at the time, aſcribes this work to Agrippa, and tells us that the Lucrine bay was ſeparated from the Tyrrhene ſea by a mound, ſaid to have been firſt made by Hercules, and reſtored by Agrippa. Philargyrius ſays that a ſtorm aroſe at the time of the execution of this great work, to which Virgil ſeems to refer in his mention of this Port, in the courſe of his Panegyrick on Italy in the ſecond Georgick.
‘98.—WHETHER THE MARSH, &c.] Steriliſve Palus.’
THE PONTINE MARSH, firſt drained by the Con⯑ſul Cornelius Cethegus; then, by Auguſtus; and many, many years after by Theodorick.
‘102.—OR IF THE RIVER, &c.] Seu curſum, &c.’ The courſe of the Tyber, changed by Auguſtus, to prevent inundations.
‘110.—FOR DEEDS OF KINGS, &c.] Res geſtae regumque, &c.’
The ingenious author of the Engliſh Commen⯑tary, to whom I have ſo often referred, and to whom I muſt continue to refer, has diſcovered particular taſte, judgement, and addreſs, in his explication of this part of the Epiſtle. It runs thus.
[56]It is needleſs to inſiſt, that my hypotheſis will not allow me to concur entirely in the latter part of this extract; at leaſt in that latitude, to which the ſyſtem of the writer carries it: yet I perfectly agree with Mr. Duncombe, that the learned Critick, in his obſervation on this Epiſtle, ‘"has ſhewn in gene⯑ral, the connection and dependence of one part with another, in a clearer light than any other Commentator."’ His ſhrewd and delicate commen⯑tary is, indeed, a moſt elegant contraſt to the bar⯑barous analyſis of Scaliger, drawn up without the leaſt idea of poetical tranſition, and with the uncouth air of a mere dry logician, or dull grammarian. I think, however, the Order and Method, obſerved in this Epiſtle, is ſtricter than has yet been obſerved, and that the ſeries of rules is delivered with great re⯑gularity; NOT enlivened by digreſſions, but paſſing from one topick to another, by the moſt natural and eaſy tranſitions. The Author's diſcrimination of the different ſtiles of the ſeveral ſpecies of poetry, leads him, as has been already ſhewn, to conſider THE DICTION of the Drama, and its accommoda⯑tion to the circumſtances and character of the Speaker. A recapitulation of theſe circumſtances carries him to treat of the due management of characters already known, as well as of ſuſtaining thoſe that are entire⯑ly [57] original; to the firſt of which the Poet gives the preference, recommending known CHARACTERS, as well as known SUBJECTS: And on the mention of this joint preference, the Author leaves further con⯑ſideration of the DICTION, and ſlides into diſcourſe upon the FABLE, which he continues down to the 152d verſa.
Having diſpatched the FABLE, the Poet proceeds, and with ſome Solemnity of Order, to the conſide⯑ration of the CHARACTERS; not in regard to ſuit⯑able diction, for of that he has already ſpoken, but in reſpect to the manners; and, in this branch of his ſubject, he has as judiciouſly borrowed from the Rhe⯑toricks of Ariſtotle, as in the reſt of his Epiſtle from the Poeticks. He then directs, in its due place, the proper conduct of particular INCIDENTS of the fable; after which he treats of the CHORUS; from whence he naturally falls into the hiſtory of theatrical MU⯑SICK; which is, as naturally, ſucceeded by an ac⯑count of the Origin of the Drama itſelf, which the Poet commences, like his maſter Ariſtotle, even from the Dithyrambick Song, and carries it down [58] to the eſtabliſhment of the New Greek Comedy; from whence he paſſes eaſily and gracefully, to the ROMAN STAGE, acknowledging the merits of the Writers, but pointing out their defects, and aſſign⯑ing the cauſes. He then ſubjoins a few general ob⯑ſervations, and concludes his long diſcourſe on the DRAMA, having extended it to 275 lines. This diſcourſe, together with the reſult of all his reflec⯑tions on Poets and Poetry, he then applies in the moſt earneſt and perſonal manner to the ELDER PISO; and with a long and moſt pathetick peroration, if I may adopt an oratorical term, concludes the Epiſtle.
‘116.—THE ELEGY's SMALL SONG.] EXI⯑GUOS Elegos.’
Commentators differ concerning the import of this expreſſion—EXIGUOS Elegos; the Elegy's ſmall ſong. De Nores, Schrevelius, and Deſprez, think it refers to the humility of the elegiack ſtile and ſubjects, compared with epick or lyrick ſublimity. Monſieur Dacier rather thinks that Horace refers here, as in the words Verſibus impariter junctis, "Couplets unequal," to the uſe of the pentameter, or ſhort verſe, conſiſting of five feet, and joined to the hexameter, or long verſe, of ſix. This inequality [59] of the couplet Monſieur Dacier juſtly prefers to the two long Alexandrines of his own country, which ſets almoſt all the French poetry, Epick, Dramatick, Elegiack, or Satyrick, to the tune of Derry Down. In our language, the meaſures are more various, and more happily conceived. Our Elegy adopts not only unequal couplets, but alternate rhymes, which give a plaintive tone to the heroick meaſure, and are moſt happily uſed in Gray's beau⯑tiful Elegy in a Country Church yard.
‘135.—THY FEAST, THYESTES!] Coena Thyeſtae.’
The ſtory of Thyeſtes being of the moſt tragick nature, a banquet on his own children! is com⯑monly interpreted by the Criticks, as mentioned by Horace, in alluſion to Tragedy in general. The Author of the Engliſh Commentary, however, is of a different opinion, ſuppoſing, from a paſſage of Cicero, that the Poet means to glance at the Thyeſtes of Ennius, and to pay an oblique compliment to Varius, who had written a tragedy on the ſame ſub⯑ject.
The ſame learned Critick alſo takes it for granted, that the Tragedy of Telephus, and probably of Pe⯑leus, after mentioned, point at tragedies of Euripi⯑des, [60] on theſe ſubjects, tranſlated into Latin, and accommodated to the Roman Stage, without ſucceſs, by Ennius, Accius, or Noevius.
One of the Critick's notes on this part of the Epiſtle, treating on the uſe of pure poetry in the Drama, abounds with curious diſquiſition and refined criti⯑ciſm.
‘150.—They muſt have PASSION too.] DULCIA ſunto.’ The Poet, with great addreſs, includes THE SENTIMENTS under the conſideration of DICTION.
Buckingham has treated the ſubject of Dialogue very happily in his Eſſay on Poetry, glancing, but not ſervilely, at this part of Horace.
‘188.—And Oreſtes mad!] TRISTIS Oreſtes.’ Triſtis is not literally mad: but phrenzy is the gene⯑ral poetick and dramatick attribute of Oreſtes, to which Horace is by all the Commentators ſuppoſed to refer. Triſtis in its common acceptation would be too little diſcriminated from the FLEBILIS Ino.
‘203.—BE NOT YOUR OPENING FIERCE!] Nec ſic incipies.’ Moſt of the Criticks obſerve, that all theſe documents, deduced from the Epick, are in⯑tended, like the reduction of the Iliad into acts, as directions and admonitions to the Dramatick writer. Nam ſi in EPOPAEIA, quae gravitate omnia poematum genera praecellit, ait principium lene eſſe debere; quanto magis in TRAGOEDIA et COMOEDIA, idem videri de⯑bet? ſays de Nores. Praeceptum de initio grandiori evitando, quod tam EPICUS quam TRAGICUS cavere debet; ſays the Dauphin Editor. Il faut ſe ſouvenir qu' Horace applique à la Tragedie les regles du Poeme Epique. Car ſi ces debuts eclatans ſont ridicules dans la Poeme Epique, ils le ſont encore plus dans la Trage⯑die: ſays Dacier. The Author of the Engliſh Com⯑mentary makes the like obſervation, and uſes it to enforce his ſyſtem of the Epiſtle's being intended as a Criticiſm on the Roman Drama.
‘204.—Like the rude BALLAD-MONGER's chaunt of old.] Ut Scriptor CYCLICUS olim.]’ Scriptor CY⯑CLICUS [62] ſignifies an itinerant Rhymer travelling, like Shakeſpeare's Mad Tom, to wakes, and fairs, and market-towns. It is not preciſely known who was the Cyclick Poet here meant. Some have aſ⯑cribed the Character to Maevius, and Roſcommon has adopted that idea.
The pompous exordium of Statius is well known, and the fragments of Ennius preſent us a moſt tre⯑mendous commencement of his Annals.
this is indeed
‘213.—Say, Muſe, the Man, &c.]’ Homer's opening of the Odyſſey. This rule is perhaps no where ſo chaſtely obſerved as in the Paradiſe Loſt. Homer's [...]! or, his [...]! or, Virgil's Arma virumque cano! are all boiſterous and vehement, in compariſon with the calmneſs and modeſty of Milton's meek approach,
‘217.—Antiphates, the Cyclops, &c.] Antipha⯑tem, Scyllamque, & cum Cyclope Charybdim.’ Sto⯑ries, that occur in the Odyſſey.
‘220.—With Diomed's return TO RUN YOU OUT OF BREATH.]’ I am ſurpriſed that my old friend and ſchool-fellow, Mr. Maty, did not per⯑ceive that the irregularity of this verſe was inten⯑tional. In other inſtances I have endeavoured to avail myſelf of his remarks.
‘220-21.—Diomed's return—the Double Egg.’
The return of Diomede is not mentioned by Ho⯑mer, but is ſaid to be the ſubject of a tedious Poem by Antimachus; and to Staſimus is aſcribed a Poem, called the Little Iliad, beginning with the nativity of Helen.
‘229.—Hear now!] TU, quid ego, &c.’
This invocation, ſays Dacier juſtly, is not ad⯑dreſſed to either of the Piſos, but to the Dramatick Writer generally.
‘231.—The Cloth GOES DOWN.]’ Aulaea manen⯑tis. This is tranſlated according to modern man⯑ners; for with the Antients, the Cloth was raised at the Concluſion of the Play. Thus in Virgil's Georgicks;
‘232.—Man's ſeveral ages, &c.] Aetatis cujuſ⯑que, &c.’ Jaſon De Nores takes notice of the parti⯑cular ſtreſs, that Horace lays on the due diſcrimina⯑tion of the ſeveral Ages, by the ſolemnity with which he introduces the mention of them: The ſame Critick ſubjoins a note alſo, which I ſhall tranſcribe, as it ſerves to illuſtrate a popular paſ⯑ſage in the As you Like It of Shakeſpeare.
It appears from hence, that it was common for the writers of that me, as well as Shakeſpeare's Jaques, to divide the life of man into SEVEN AGES, viz. In⯑fancy, Childhood, Puberty, Youth, Manhood, Old [67] Age, and Decrepitude; ‘"which laſt, (ſays De Nores) in ſome ſort anſwers to Infancy,"’ or, as Shakeſpere expreſſes it, IS SECOND CHILDISH⯑NESS.
‘"Before Shakeſpeare's time, ſays Warburton, ſeven acts was no unuſual diviſion of a play, ſo that there is a greater beauty than appears at firſt ſight in this image."’ Mr. Steevens, however, informs us that the plays of that early period were not di⯑vided into acts at all. It is moſt probable therefore that Shakeſpeare only copied the moral philoſophy (the Socraticae chartae) of his own day, adapting it, like Ariſtotle and Horace, to his own purpoſe; and. I think, with more felicity, than either of his il⯑luſtrious predeceſſors, by contriving to introduce, and diſcriminate every one of THE SEVEN AGES. This he has effected by aſſigning STATION and CHA⯑RACTER to ſome of the ſtages, which to Ariſtotle and Horace appeared too ſimilar to be diſtinguiſhed from each other. Thus PUBERTY, YOUTH, MAN⯑HOOD, and OLD AGE, become under Shakeſpeare's hand, the LOVER, the SOLDIER, the JUSTICE, and the lean and ſlipper'd PANTALOON; while the natu⯑tural qualities of the INFANT, the BOY, and the [68] DOTARD, afford ſufficient materials for poetical de⯑ſcription.
Ariſtotle conſiders the powers of the body in a ſtate of advancement till the 35th year, and the fa⯑culties of the mind progreſſively improving till the 49th; from which periods they ſeverally decline. On which circumſtance, applied to this paſſage of Horace, Jaſon De Nores elegantly remarks, Vita enim noſtra videtur ad VIRILITATEM uſque, quâ IN STATU poſita eſt, QUENDAM QUASI PONTEM aetatis ASCENDERE, ab eâque inde DESCENDERE. Whether Addiſon ever met with the commentary of De Nores, it is perhaps impoſſible to diſcover. But this idea of the ASCENT and DECLIVITY of the BRIDGE of HUMAN LIFE, ſtrongly reminds us of the delightful Viſion of MIRZA.
‘Medea's PARRICIDE.] Medea Tracidet.’ Profeſſed Criticks have objected to the word parricide, which [69] they conſider as confined to ſignify the murder of a parent. The expreſſion, however, is authoriſed and correct. Any horrible murder is branded, in the works of the beſt writers, by the name of Parricide. John's cruel diſpatch of his nephew Arthur drew on him the edict of Philip, attainting him of felony and parricide. The aſſaſſination of Henry the Fourth of France, by Ravaillac, is ſtigmatiſed by Monteſ⯑quieu, in his Lettres Perſannes, as a deteſtable PAR⯑RICIDE.
‘290.—An actor's part THE CHORUS ſhould ſuſtain.] Actoris partes CHORUS, &c.’
See alſo Ariſtotle [ [...]] The judg⯑ment of two ſuch critics, and the practice of wiſe antiquity, concurring to eſtabliſh this precept con⯑cerning the Chorus, it ſhould thenceforth, one would think, have become a fundamental rule and maxim of the ſtage. And ſo indeed it appeared to ſome few writers. The moſt admired of the French tragick poets ventured to introduce it into two of his latter plays, and with ſuch ſucceſs, that, as one obſerves, It ſhould, in all reaſon, have diſabuſed his countrymen on this head: l'eſſai heureux de M. Racine, qui les [choeurs] a fait revivre dans ATHALIE et dans ESTHER, devroit, il ſemble, nous [70] avoir detrompez ſur cet article. [P. Brumoi, vol. i. p. 105.] And, before him, our Milton, who, with his other great talents, poſſeſſed a ſupreme know⯑ledge of antiquity, was ſo ſtruck with its uſe and beauty, as to attempt to bring it into our language. His Sampſon Agoniſtes was, as might be expected, a maſter-piece. But even his credit hath not been ſufficient to reſtore the Chorus. Hear a late Pro⯑feſſor of the art declaring, De CHORO nihil diſſerui, quia non eſt eſſentialis dramati, atque à neotricis pe⯑nitus, ET, ME JUDICE, MERITO REPUDIATUR. [Prael. Poet. vol. ii. p. 188.] Whence it hath come to paſs that the Chorus hath been thus ne⯑glected is not now the enquiry. But that this critick, and all ſuch, are greatly out in their judg⯑ments, when they preſume to cenſure it in the ancients, muſt appear (if we look no further) from the double uſe, inſiſted on by the poet, For, 1. A Chorus interpoſing, and bearing a part in the progreſs of the action, gives the repreſentation that probability [*], and ſtriking reſemblance of [71] real life, which every man of ſenſe perceives, and feels the want of upon our ſtage; a want, which nothing but ſuch an expedient as the Chorus can poſſibly relieve. And, 2. The importance of its other office [l. 196] to the utility of the repre⯑ſentation, is ſo great, that, in a moral view, no⯑thing can compenſate for this deficiency. For it is neceſſary to the truth and decorum of cha⯑racters, that the manners, bad as well as good, be drawn in ſtrong, vivid colours; and to that end that immoral ſentiments, forcibly expreſſed and ſpeciouſly maintained, be sometimes imputed to the ſpeakers. Hence the ſound philoſophy of the Chorus will be conſtantly wanting, to rectify the wrong concluſions of the audience, and pre⯑vent the ill impreſſions that might otherwiſe be made upon it. Nor let any one ſay, that the au⯑dience is well able to do this for itſelf: Euripides did not find even an Athenian theatre ſo quick⯑ſighted. The ſtory is well known, [Sen. Ep. 115.] that when this painter of the manners was obliged, by the rules of his art, and the character to be ſuſtained, to put a run of bold ſentiments in the mouth of one of his perſons, the people inſtantly took fire, charging the poet with the imputed vil⯑lainy, as though it had been his own. Now if [72] ſuch an audience could ſo eaſily miſinterpret an attention to the truth of character into the real doctrine of the poet, and this too, when a Chorus was at hand to correct and diſabuſe their judg⯑ments, what muſt be the caſe, when the whole is left to the ſagacity and penetration of the people? The wiſer ſort, it is true, have little need of this information. Yet the reflections of ſober ſenſe on the courſe and occurrences of the repreſenta⯑tion, clothed in the nobleſt dreſs of poetry, and enforced by the joint powers of harmony and action (which is the true character of the Chorus) might make it, even to such, a no unpleaſant or unpro⯑fitable entertainment. But theſe two are a ſmall part of the uſes of the Chorus; which in every light is ſeen ſo important to the truth, decorum, and dignity of the tragick ſcene, that the modern ſtage, which hath not thought proper to adopt it, is even, with the advantage of, ſometimes, the juſteſt moral painting and ſublimeſt imagery, but a very faint ſhadow of the old; as muſt needs appear to thoſe who have looked into the ancient models, or, diveſting themſelves of modern pre⯑judices, are diſpoſed to conſult the dictates of plain ſenſe. For the uſe of ſuch, I once deſigned to have drawn into one view the ſeveral important [73] benefits ariſing to the drama from the obſervance of this rule, but have the pleaſure to find myſelf prevented by a ſensible diſſertation of a good French writer, which the reader will find in the VIII tom. of the Hiſtory of the Academy of Inſcriptions and Belles Lettres.—Or, it may be ſufficient to refer the Engliſh reader to the late tragedies of EL⯑FRIDA and CARACTACUS; which do honour to modern poetry, and are a better apology, than any I could make, for the ancient Chorus.—
Though it is not my intention to agitate, in this place, the long diſputed queſtion concerning the ex⯑pediency, or inexpediency, of the CHORUS; yet I cannot diſmiſs the above note without ſome farther obſervation. In the firſt place then I cannot think that the judgment of two ſuch Crikicks as Ariſtotle and Horace, can be deciſively quoted, as concurring with the practice of wiſe antiquity, TO ESTABLISH THE CHORUS. Neither of theſe two Criticks have taken up the queſtion, each of them giving directions for the proper conduct of the CHORUS, conſidered as an eſtabliſhed and received part of Tragedy, and indeed [74] originally, as they both tell us, the whole of it, Ariſtotle, in his Poeticks, has hot ſaid much on the ſubject; and from the little he has ſaid, more arguments might perhaps be drawn, in favour of the omiſſion, than for the introduction of the CHORUS. It is true that he ſays, in his 4th chapter, that ‘"Tragedy, after many changes, pauſed, having gained its natural form*:"’ This might, at firſt ſight, ſeem to include his approbation of the CHORUS, as well as of all the other parts of Tragedy then in uſe: but he himſelf expreſsly tells us in the very ſame chapter, that he had no ſuch meaning, ſaying, that ‘"to enquire whether Tragedy be perfect in its parts, either conſidered in itſelf, or with relation to the theatre, was foreign to his preſent pur⯑poſe†."’ In the paſſage from which Horace has, in the verſes now before us, deſcribed the office, and laid down the duties of the CHORUS, the paſſage re⯑ferred to by the learned Critick, the words of Ari⯑ſtotle are not particularly favourable to the inſtitution, [71] or much calculated to recommend the uſe of it. For Ariſtotle there informs us, ‘"that Sopho⯑cles alone of all the Grecian writers, made the CHORUS conducive to the progreſs of the fable: not only even Euripides being culpable in this inſtance; but other writers, after the example of Agathon, introducing Odes as little to the pur⯑poſe, as if they had borrowed whole ſcenes from another play.*"’
On the whole therefore; whatever may be the merits, or advantages of the CHORUS, I cannot think that the judgment of Ariſtotle or Horace can be adduced in recommendation of it. As to the PRO⯑BABILITY given to the repreſentation, by the CHORUS interpoſing and bearing a part in the action; the Pub⯑lick, who have lately ſeen a troop of ſingers aſſembled on the ſtage, as a CHORUS, during the whole re⯑preſentations of ELFRIDA and CARACTACUS, are [72] competent to decide for themſelves, how far ſuch an expedient, gives a more ſtriking reſemblance of human life, than the common uſage of our Drama. As to its importance in a moral view, to correct the evil impreſſion of vicious ſentiments, imputed to the ſpeak⯑ers; the ſtory told, to enforce its uſe for this pur⯑poſe, conveys a proof of its inefficacy. To give due force to ſentiments, as well as to direct their proper tendency, ariſes from the ſkill and addreſs of the Poet, independent of the CHORUS.
Monſieur Dacier, as well as the author of the above note, cenſures the modern ſtage for having rejected the CHORUS, and having loſt thereby at leaſt half its probability, and its GREATEST ORNAMENT; ſo that our Tragedy is but a very faint ſhadow of the OLD. Learned Criticks, however, do not, perhaps, con⯑ſider, that if it be expedient to revive the CHORUS, all the other parts of the Antient Tragedy muſt be revived along with it. Ariſtotle mentions MUSICK as one of the ſix parts of Tragedy, and Horace no ſooner introduces the CHORUS, but he proceeds to the PIPE and LYRE. If a CHORUS be really ne⯑ceſſary, our Dramas, like thoſe of the Antients, ſhould be rendered wholly muſical; the Dancers alſo will then claim their place, and the pretenſions of [73] Veſtris and Noverre muſt be admitted as claſſical. Such a ſpectacle, if not more natural than the mo⯑dern, would at leaſt be conſiſtent; but to introduce a groupe of ſpectatorial actors, SPEAKING in one part of the Drama, and SINGING in another, is as ſtrange and incoherent a medley, and full as unclaſſical, as the dialogue and airs of the BEGGAR's OPERA!
On this paſſage the author of the Engliſh Com⯑mentary thus remarks. ‘"How neceſſary this ad⯑vice might be to the writers of the Auguſtan age cannot certainly appear; but, if the practice of Seneca may give room for ſuſpicion, it ſhould ſeem to have been much wanted; in whom I ſcarcely believe there is ONE SINGLE INSTANCE, of the CHORUS being employed in a manner, conſo⯑nant to its true end and character."’
The learned Critick ſeems here to believe, and the plays under the name of Seneca in ſome meaſure [74] warrant the concluſion, that the CHORUS of the Roman Stage was not calculated to anſwer the ends of its inſtitution. Ariſtotle has told us juſt the ſame thing, with an exception in favour of Sophocles, of the Grecian Drama. And are ſuch ſurmiſes, or ſuch information, likely to ſtrengthen our prejudices on behalf of the CHORUS, or to inflame our deſires for its revival?
The Chorus, ſays the poet, is to take the ſide of the good and virtuous, i. e. is always to ſuſtain a moral character. But this will need ſome expla⯑nation and reſtriction. To conceive aright of its office, we muſt ſuppoſe the Chorus to be a number of perſons, by ſome probable cauſe aſſembled to⯑gether, as witneſſes and ſpectators of the great ac⯑tion of the drama. Such perſons, as they cannot be wholly unintereſted in what paſſes before them, will very naturally bear ſome ſhare in the repre⯑ſentation. This will principally conſiſt in de⯑claring their ſentiments, and indulging their re⯑flections freely on the ſeveral events and diſtreſſes [75] as they ſhall ariſe. Thus we ſee the moral, attri⯑buted to the Chorus, will be no other than the dictates of plain ſenſe; ſuch as muſt be obvious to every thinking obſerver of the action, who is under the influence of no peculiar partialities from affection or intereſt. Though even theſe may be ſuppoſed in caſes, where the character, towards which they draw, is repreſented as virtuous.
A Chorus, thus conſtituted, muſt always, it is evident, take the part of virtue; becauſe this is the natural and almoſt neceſſary determination of mankind, in all ages and nations, when acting freely and unconſtrained.
‘297.—FAITHFUL AND SECRET.—Ille tegat commiſſa.’
On this nice part of the duty of the CHORUS the author of the Engliſh Commentary thus remarks.
After two examples from Euripides; in one of which the truſty CHORUS conceals the premeditated ſuicide of Phaedra; and in the other abets Medea's intended murder of her children; both which are moſt ably vindicated by the Critick; the note concludes in theſe words.
One of the cenſurers of Euripides, whoſe opinion is controverted in the above note, is Monſieur Da⯑cier; who condemns the CHORUS in this inſtance, as not only violating their moral office, but tranſgreſſing the laws of NATURE and of GOD, by a fidelity so VICIOUS and CRIMINAL, that theſe women, [the CHORUS!] ought to fly away in the Car of Medea, to eſcape the puniſhment due to them. The Annotator above, agrees with the Greek Scholiaſt, that the Co⯑rinthian women (the CHORUS) being free, properly deſert the intereſts of Creon, and keep Medea's ſe⯑crets, for the ſake of juſtice, according to their cuſtom. Dacier, however, urges an inſtance of their infidelity [78] in the Ion of Euripides, where they betray the ſecret of Xuthus to Creuſa, which the French Critick de⯑fends on account of their attachment to their miſ⯑treſs; and adds, that the rule of Horace, like other rules, is proved by the exception. ‘"Beſides (con⯑tinues the Critick in the true ſpirit of French gal⯑lantry) ſhould we ſo heavily accuſe the Poet for not having made an aſſembly of women KEEP A SE⯑CRET?"’ D'ailleurs, peut on faire un ſi grand crime à un poete, de n'avoir pas fait en ſorte qu'une troupe de femmes garde un ſecret? He then concludes his note with blaming Euripides for the perfidy of Iphigenia at Tauris, who abandons theſe faithful guardians of her ſecret, by flying alone with Oreſtes, and leav⯑ing them to the fury of Thoas, to which they muſt have been expoſed, but for the intervention of Mi⯑nerva.
On the whole, it appears that the moral importance of the CHORUS muſt be conſidered with ſome limita⯑tions: or, at leaſt, that the CHORUS is as liable to be miſuſed and miſapplied, as any part of modern Tragedy.
‘300.—The PIPE of old.—Tibi, non ut nunc, &c.’
This, ſays the author of the Engliſh Com⯑mentary, is one of thoſe many paſſages in the epiſtle, about which the critics have ſaid a great deal, without explaining any thing. In ſupport of what I mean to offer, as the true interpreta⯑tion, I obſerve,
That the poet's intention certainly was not to cenſure the falſe refinements of their ſtage-muſic; but, in a ſhort digreſſive hiſtory (ſuch as the di⯑dactic form will ſometimes require) to deſcribe the riſe and progreſs of the true. This I collect, 1. From the expreſſion itſelf; which cannot, with⯑out violence, be underſtood in any other way. For, as to the words licentia and praeceps, which have occaſioned much of the difficulty, the firſt means a freer uſe, not a licentiouſneſs, properly ſo called; and the other only expreſſes a vehemence and rapidity of language, naturally productive of a quicker elocution, ſuch as muſt of courſe attend the more numerous harmony of the lyre:—not, as M. Dacier tranſlates it, une eloquence temeraire et outrêe, an extravagant ſtraining and affectation of ſtyle. 2. From the reaſon of the thing; which makes it incredible, that the muſic of the theatre ſhould then be moſt complete, when the times were barbarous, and entertainments of this kind little [80] encouraged or underſtood. 3. From the character of that muſic itſelf; for the rudeneſs of which, Ho⯑race, in effect, apologizes in defending it only on the ſcore of the imperfect ſtate of the ſtage, and the ſimplicity of its judges.
The above interpretation of this part of the Epiſtle is, in my opinion, extremely juſt, and exactly cor⯑reſponds with the explication of De Nores, who cen⯑ſures Madius for an error ſimilar to that of Dacier. Non rectè ſentire videtur Madius, dum putat potius IN ROMANORUM LUXURIAM invectum Horatium, quam DE MELODIAE INCREMENTO tractaſſe.
THE MUSICK, having always been a neceſſary appendage to the CHORUS, I cannot (as has already been hinted in the note on l. 100 of this verſion) conſider the Poet's notice of the Pipe and Lyre, as a digreſſion, notwithſtanding it includes a ſhort hiſ⯑tory of the rude ſimplicity of the Muſick in th [...] earlier ages of Rome, and of its ſubſequent improve⯑ments. The CHORUS too, being originally the whole as well as afterwards a legitimate part of Tragedy, the Poet naturally traces the Drama from its origin to its moſt perfect ſtate in Greece; and afterwards compares its progreſs and improvements with the [81] Theatre of his own country. Such is, I think, the natural and eaſy method purſued by Horace; though it differs in ſome meaſure from the order and con⯑nection pointed out by the author of the Engliſh Commentary.
Theſe lines, rather breaking in upon the continuity of the hiſtory of theatrical muſick, create ſome ob⯑ſcurity, which has given birth to various interpreta⯑tions. The author of the Engliſh Commentary, who always endeavours to dive to the very bottom of his ſubject, underſtands this couplet of Horace as a ſneer on thoſe grave philoſophers, who conſidered theſe refinements of the muſick as corruptions. He inter⯑prets the paſſage at large, and explains the above two lines in theſe words. ‘"Nor let it be objected than this freer harmony was itſelf an abuſe, a corruption, [82] of the ſevere and moral muſick of antient times. Alas! we were not as yet ſo wiſe, to ſee the inconveniences of this improvement. And how ſhould we, conſidering the nature and end of theſe theatrical entertainments, and the ſort of men of which our theatres were made up?"’
This interpretation is ingenious; but Jaſon De Nores gives, I think, a more eaſy and unforced ex⯑planation of this difficult paſſage, by ſuppoſing it to refer (by way of parentheſis) to what had juſt been ſaid of the original rude ſimplicity of the Roman theatrical muſick, which, ſays the Poet, was at leaſt as poliſhed and refined as the taſte of the au⯑dience This De Nores urges in two ſeveral notes, both which I ſhall ſubmit to the reader, leaving it to him to determine how far I am to be juſtified in having adapted my verſion to his interpretation.
The firſt of theſe notes contains at large his re⯑proof of Madius for having, like Dacier, ſuppoſed the Poet to cenſure the improvements that he mani⯑feſtly meant to commend.
Quare non rectè videtur ſentire Madius, dum putat potius in Romanorum luxuriam invectum Horatium, quàm de melodiae incremento tractaſſe, cùm SEIPSUM [83] INTERPRETANS, quid ſibi voluerit per haec, luce cla⯑rius, oſtendat,
Ad quid enim tam longâ digreſione extra rem propoſi⯑tam in Romanos inveheretur, cùm de iis nihil aliud dicat, quàm eos genio ac voluptatibus indulgere: cum potius VETERES ROMANOS INSIMULARE VIDEATUR IGNO⯑RANTIAE QUOD IGNORAVERINT SONI ET MUSICES VENUSTATEM ET JUCUNDITATEM, ILLA PRIORI SCILICET INCONDITA ET RUDI ADMODUM CONTEN⯑TI, dum ait;
The other note is expreſsly applied by way of comment on this paſſage itſelf.
Upon the whole De Nores appears to me to have given the true ſenſe of the paſſage. I am no friend to licentious tranſpoſitions, or arbitrary variations, of an author's text; yet I confeſs, I was ſtrongly tempted, in order to elucidate this perplexed paſſage, to have carried theſe two lines of Horace four lines back, and to have inſerted them immediately after the 207th verſe.
The Engliſh reader, who wiſhes to try the expe⯑riment, is deſired to read the four lines, that compoſe my verſion, immediately after the 309th line,
This is the application of what hath been ſaid, in general, concerning the refinement of theatri⯑cal muſic to the caſe of tragedy. Some commen⯑tators ſay, and to comedy. But in this they miſ⯑take, as will appear preſently. M. Dacier hath I know not what conceit about a compariſon be⯑twixt the Roman and Greek ſtage. His reaſon is, that the lyre was uſed in the Greek Chorus, as appears, he ſays, from Sophocles himſelf playing upon this in⯑ſtrument himſelf in one of his tragedies. And was it not uſed too in the Roman Chorus, as appears from Nero's playing upon it in ſeveral tragedies? But the learned critic did not apprehend this matter. Indeed from the caution, with which his guides, the dealers in antiquities, always touch this point, it ſhould ſeem, that they too had no very clear conceptions of it. The caſe I take to have been this: The tibia, as being moſt proper to accompany the declamation of the acts, can⯑tanti ſuccinere, was conſtantly employed, as well in the Roman tragedy as comedy. This appears from many authorities. I mention only two from [86] Cicero. Quam multa [Acad. l. ii. 7.] quae nos fu⯑giunt in cantu, exaudiunt in eo genere exercitati: Qui primo inflatu Tibicinis, Antiopam eſſe aiunt aut An⯑dromacham, cum nos ne ſuſpicemur quidem. The other is ſtill more expreſs. In his piece entitled Orator, ſpeaking of the negligence of the Roman writers, in reſpect of numbers, he obſerves, that there were even many paſſages in their tragedies, which, unleſs the TIBIA played to them, could not be dlſtinguiſhed from mere proſe: quae, niſi cum Ti⯑bicen acceſſerit, orationi ſint ſolutoe ſimillima. One of theſe paſſages is expreſsly quoted from Thyeſtes, a tragedy of Ennius; and, as appears from the meaſure, taken out of one of the acts. It is clear then, that the tibia was certainly uſed in the de⯑clamation of tragedy. But now the ſong of the tragic chorus, being of the nature of the ode, of courſe required fides, the lyre, the peculiar and appropriated inſtrument of the lyric muſe. And this is clearly collected, if not from expreſs teſ⯑timonies; yet from ſome occaſional hints dropt by the antients. For, 1. the lyre, we are told, [Cic. De Leg. ii. 9 & 15.] and is agreed on all hands, was an inſtrument of the Roman theatre; but it was not employed in comedy. This we certainly know from the ſhort account of the [87] muſic prefixed to Terence's plays. 2. Further, the tibicen, as we ſaw, accompanied the declama⯑tion of the acts in tragedy. It remains then, that the proper place of the lyre was, where one ſhould naturally look for it, in the ſongs of the Chorus; but we need not go further than this very paſſage for a proof. It is unqueſtionable, that the poet is here ſpeaking of the Chorus only; the following lines not admitting any other poſſible interpreta⯑tion. By fidibus then is neceſſarily underſtood the inſtrument peculiarly uſed in it. Not that it need be ſaid that the tibia was never uſed in the Chorus. The contrary ſeems expreſſed in a paſſage of Se⯑neca, [Ep. lxxxiv.] and in Julius Pollux [l. iv. 15: § 107.] It is ſufficient, if the lyre was uſed ſole⯑ly, or principally, in it at this time. In this view, the whole digreſſion is more pertinent, and con⯑nects better. The poet had before been ſpeaking of tragedy. All his directions from l. 100, reſpect this ſpecies of the drama only. The application of what he had ſaid concerning muſic, is then moſt naturally made, 1. to the tibia, the muſic of the acts; and, 2. to fides, that of the choir: thus confining himſelf, as the tenor of this part re⯑quired, to tragedy only. Hence is ſeen the miſ⯑take, not only of M. Dacier, whoſe comment is [88] in every view inſupportable; but, as was hinted, of Heinſius, Lambin, and others, who, with more probability, explained this of the Roman comedy and tragedy. For, though tibia might be allowed to ſtand for comedy, as oppoſed to tragoedia, [as in fact, we find it in l. ii. Ep. 1.98,] that being the only inſtrument employed in it; yet, in ſpeak⯑ing expreſly of the muſic of the ſtage, fides could not determinately enough, and in contradiſtinction to tibia, denote that of tragedy, it being an inſtru⯑ment uſed ſolely, or principally, in the Chorus; of which, the context ſhews, he alone ſpeaks. It is further to be obſerved, that, in the applica⯑tion here made, beſides the muſic, the poet takes in the other improvements of the Tragic Chorus, theſe happening, as from the nature of the thing they would do, at the ſame time.
This expreſſes not only the improvement ariſing from the ornament of proper dreſſes, but from the grace of motion; not only the actor, whoſe [89] peculiar office it was, but the minſtrel himſelf, as appears from hence, conforming his geſture in ſome ſort to the muſic.
Of the uſe and propriety of theſe geſtures, or dances, it will not be eaſy for us, who ſee no ſuch things attempted on the modern ſtage, to form any very clear or exact notions. What we cannot doubt of is, 1. That the ſeveral theatrical dances of the antients were ſtrictly conformable to the genius of the different ſpecies of compoſition, to which they were applied. 2. That, therefore, the tragic dance, which more eſpecially accompanied the Chorus, muſt have been expreſſive of the high⯑eſt gravity and decorum, tending to inſpire ideas of what is becoming, graceful, and majeſtic; in which view we cannot but perceive the important aſſiſt⯑ance it muſt needs lend to virtue, and how greatly it muſt contribute to ſet all her graces and attrac⯑tions in the faireſt light. 3. This idea of the an⯑cient tragic dance, is not ſolely formed upon our knowledge of the conformity before-mentioned; but is further collected from the name uſually given to it, which was [...], This word cannot well be tranſlated into our language; but expreſſes all that grace and concinnity of motion, which the dignity of the choral ſong required. 4. Laſtly, it [90] muſt give us a very high notion of the moral effect of this dance, when we find the ſevere Plato ad⯑mitting it into his commonwealth.
If I am not greatly deceived, all the Editors, and Commentators on this Epiſtle, have failed to obſerve, that the hiſtorical part of it, relative to the Graecian Drama, commences at this verſe; all of them ſup⯑poſing it to begin, 55 lines further in the Epiſtle, on the mention of Theſpis; whom Horace as clear⯑ly, as correctly, deſcribes to be the firſt improver, not inventor of Tragedy, whoſe ORIGINAL he marks here. Much confuſion has, I think, ariſen from this overſight, as I ſhall endeavour to explain in the fol⯑lowing notes; only obſerving in this place, that the Poet, having ſpoken particularly of all the parts of Tragedy, now enters with the ſtricteſt order, and greateſt propriety, into its general hiſtory, which, by his ſtrictures on the CHORUS, he moſt elegantly, [91] as well as forcibly, connects with his ſubject, taking occaſion to ſpeak incidentally of other branches of the Drama, particularly THE SATYRS, and the OLD COMEDY.
It is not the intention of theſe notes to retail the accounts of others, I muſt therefore refer the reader, for whatever concerns the hiſtory of the ſatiric, as I have hitherto done of the tragic and comic drama, to the numerous diſſertators on the ancient ſtage; and, above all, in the caſe before us, to the learned Caſaubon; from whom all that hath been ſaid to any purpoſe, by modern writers, hath been taken. Only it will be proper to ob⯑ſerve one or two particulars, which have been greatly miſunderſtood, and without which it will be impoſſible, in any tolerable manner, to explain what follows.
I. The deſign of the poet, in theſe lines, is not to fix the origin of the ſatyric piece, in aſcribing [92] the invention of it to Theſpis. This hath been concluded, without the leaſt warrant from his own words, which barely tell us, ‘"that the repreſen⯑tation of tragedy was in elder Greece followed by the ſatires;"’ and indeed the nature of the thing, as well as the teſtimony of all antiquity, ſhews it to be impoſſible. For the ſatire here ſpoken of is, in all reſpects, a regular drama, and therefore could not be of earlier date than the times of Aeſ⯑chylus, when the conſtitution of the drama was firſt formed. It is true indeed, there was a kind of entertainment of much greater antiquity, which by the antients is ſometimes called ſatyric, out of which (as Ariſtotle aſſures us) tragedy itſelf aroſe, [...] But then this was nothing but a Chorus of ſatyrs [Athenaeus, l. xiv.] celebrating the feſtivals of Bacchus, with rude ſongs and un⯑couth dances; and had little reſemblance to that which was afterwards called ſatiric; which, ex⯑cept that it retained the Chorus of ſatyrs, and turned upon ſome ſubject relative to Bacchus, was of a quite different ſtructure, and, in every reſpect, as regular a compoſition as tragedy it⯑ſelf.
[93]II. There is no doubt but the poem, here diſ⯑tinguiſhed by the name of SATYRI, was in actual uſe on the Roman ſtage. This appears from the turn of the poet's whole criticiſm upon it. Par⯑ticularly, his addreſs to the Piſos, l. 235 and his obſervation of the offence which a looſe dialogue in this drama would give to a Roman auditory, l. 248, make it evident that he had, in fact, the practice of his own ſtage in view.
III. For the abſolute merit of theſe ſatires, the reader will judge of it himſelf by comparing the Cyclops, the only piece of this kind remaining to us from antiquity, with the rules here delivered by Horace. Only it may be obſerved, in addition to what the reader will find elſewhere [n. l. 223.] apologized in its favour, that the double character of the ſatires admirably fitted it, as well for a ſen⯑ſible entertainment to the wiſe, as for the ſport and diverſion of the vulgar. For, while the groteſque appearance and jeſting vein of theſe fantaſtic per⯑ſonages amuſed the one, the other ſaw much fur⯑ther; and conſidered them, at the ſame time, as replete with ſcience, and informed by a ſpirit of the moſt abſtruſe wiſdom. Hence important leſſons of civil prudence, intereſting alluſions to public [94] affairs, or a high, refined moral, might, with the higheſt probability, be inſinuated, under the ſlight cover of a ruſtic ſimplicity. And from this in⯑ſtructive caſt, which from its nature muſt be very obſcure, if not impenetrable, to us at this day, was, I doubt not, derived the principal pleaſure which the antients found in this ſpecies of the drama. If the modern reader would conceive any thing of the nature and degree of this pleaſure, he may in part gueſs at it, from reflecting on the entertainment he himſelf receives from the cha⯑racters of the clowns in Shakeſpeare; who, as the poet himſelf hath characterized them, uſe their folly, like a ſtalking horſe, and, under the preſentation of that, ſhoot their wit. [As you like it.]—
This learned note, I think, ſets out with a miſ⯑apprehenſion of the meaning of Horace, by involv⯑ing his inſtructions on THE SATYRICK DRAMA, with his account of its Origin. Nor does he, in the moſt diſtant manner, inſinuate, tho' Dacier has aſſerted the ſame thing, that the SATYRS owed their firſt in⯑troduction to Theſpis; but relates, that the very Poets, who contended in the Goat-Song, to which TRAGEDY owes its name, finding it too ſolemn and ſevere [95] an entertainment for their rude holiday audience, interſperſed the grave ſtrains of tragedy with comick and ſatyrical Interludes, producing thereby a kind of medley, ſomething congenial to what has appeared on our own ſtage, under the name of TRAGI-COMEDY. Nor, if I am able to read and comprehend the con⯑text, do the words of Horace tell us, ‘"that the re⯑preſentation of Tragedy was, in elder Greece, followed by the SATYRS."’ The Satyrs compoſed a part of the Tragedy in its infancy, as well as in the days of Horace, if his own words may be quoted as authority. On any other conſtruction, his direc⯑tions, concerning the conduct of the God or Hero of the piece, are ſcarcely reconcilable to common ſenſe; and it is almost impoſſible to mark their being incorporated with the Tragedy, in more expreſſive terms or images, than by his ſollicitude to prevent their broad mirth from contaminating its dignity or purity.
The CYCLOPS of Euripides, the only SATYRICK DRAMA extant, written at a much later period, than [96] that of which Horace ſpeaks in this place, cannot, I think, convey to us a very exact idea of the Tragick Paſtorals, whoſe origin he here deſcribes. The CY⯑CLOPS, ſcarce exceeding 700 lines, might be played, according to the idea of ſome criticks, after another performance: but that cannot, without the greateſt violence to the text, be ſuppoſed of the ſatyrick piece here mentioned by Horace. The idea of farces, or after-pieces, tho' an inferior branch of the Drama, is, in fact, among the refinements of an improved age. The writers of an early period throw their dra⯑matick materials, ſerious and ludicrous, into one maſs; which the critical chymiſtry of ſucceeding times ſeparates and refines. The modern ſtage, like the antient, owed its birth to the ceremonies of Religion. From Myſteries and Moralities, it pro⯑ceeded to more regular Dramas, diverſifying their ſerious ſcenes, like the SATYRICK POETS, with lu⯑dicrous repreſentations. This deſire of variety was one cauſe of the irregularity, as well as extraordi⯑nary length of their pieces; of which, I believe, they never gave above one at the ſame time of repre⯑ſentation. Farce is, in point of age, as well as rank, but a younger brother of the Theatre.
[97]Other Criticks have taken the text of Horace in the ſame ſenſe, that I have here conſidered it.
The diſtinction made by De Nores of the SATYRS not making a part of the Tragedy, but barely ap⯑pearing between the acts, can only ſignify, that the Tragick and Comick Scenes were kept apart from each other. This is plain from his ſaying that they held the place of THE CHORUS; not ſuſtaining their continued part in the tragick dialogue, but filling their chief office of ſinging between the acts. The antient Tragedy was one continued repreſentation, divided into acts by the Chaunt of the CHORUS; and, otherwiſe, according to modern ideas, forming but one act, without any interruption of the per⯑formance.
Theſe antient SATYRICK SONGS, with which the antient Tragedians endeavoured to enliven the Di⯑thyrambicks, gave riſe to two different ſpecies of poetry. Their rude jeſts and petulant raillery en⯑gendered the Satire; and their ſylvan character pro⯑duced the Paſtoral.
It hath been ſhewn, that the poet could not intend, in theſe lines, to fix the origin of the ſa⯑tiric drama. But, though this be certain, and the diſpute concerning that point be thereby deter⯑mined, yet it is to be noted, that he purpoſely deſcribes the ſatire in its ruder and leſs poliſhed form; glancing even at ſome barbarities, which deform the Bacchic Chorus; which was properly the ſatiric piece, before Aeſchylus had, by his regular conſtitution of the drama, introduced it under a very different form on the ſtage. The reaſon of this conduct is given in n. on l. 203. Hence the propriety of the word nudavit, which Lambin rightly interprets, nudos intro⯑duxit ſatyros, the poet hereby expreſſing the mon⯑ſtrous indecorum of this entertainment in its firſt unimproved ſtate. Alluding alſo to this ancient character of the ſatire, he calls him aſper, i. e. rude and petulant; and even adds, that his jeſts were intemperate, and without the leaſt mixture of gravity. For thus, upon the authority of a very ingenious and learned critic, I explain incolumi [100] gravitate, i. e. rejecting every thing ſerious; bidding farewell, as we may ſay, to all gravity. Thus [L. iii. O. 5.]
i. e. bidding farewell to Jupiter [Capitolinus] and Rome; agreeably to what is ſaid juſt before,
or, as SALVUS is uſed more remarkably in Martial [l. v. 10.]
Farewell, all gravity, is as remote from the original ſenſe of the words fare well, as incolumi gravitate from that of incolumis, or ſalvo Marone from that of ſalvus.—
The beginning of this note does not, I think, perfectly accord with what has been urged by the ſame Critick in the note immediately preceding. He there obſerved, that the ‘"SATYR here ſpoken of, is, in all reſpects, a regular Drama, and therefore could not be of earlier date, than the times of Aeſ⯑chylus."’
Here, however, he allows, though in ſubdued phraſe, that ‘"though this be certain, and the diſpute [101] concerning that point thereby determined, yet it is to be noted, that he purpoſely deſcribes the Satyr. IN ITS RUDE AND LESS POLISHED FORM; glancing even at ſome barbarities, which deform THE BACCHIC CHORUS; WHICH WAS PROPERLY THE SATYRICK PIECE, before Aeſchylus had, by his regular con⯑ſtitution of the Drama, introduced it, under a very different form, on the ſtage."’ In a ſubſequent note, the ſame learned Critick alſo ſays, that ‘"the connecting particle, verum, [verum ita riſores, &c.] expreſſes the oppoſition intended between the ori⯑ginal Satyr and that which the Poet approves."’ In both theſe paſſages the ingenious Commentator ſeems, from the mere influence of the context, to approach to the interpretation that I have hazarded of this paſſage, avowedly one of the moſt obſcure parts of the Epiſtle.
The explanation of the words INCOLUMI GRA⯑VITATE, in the latter part of the above note, though favourable to the ſyſtem of the Engliſh Commentary, is not only contrary to the conſtruction of all other interpreters, and, I believe, unwarranted by any ac⯑ceptation of the word INCOLUMIS, but, in my opi⯑nion, leſs elegant and forcible than the common in⯑terpretation.
[102]The line of the Ode referred to,
was never received in the ſenſe, which the learned Critick aſſigns to it.
The Dauphin Editor interprets it,
Schrevelius, to the ſame effect, explains it,
Theſe interpretations, as they are certainly the moſt obvious, ſeem alſo to be moſt conſonant to the plain ſenſe of the Poet.
Monſieur Dacier, though he allows that ‘"all that is here ſaid by Horace proves inconteſtibly, that the Satyrick Piece had poſſeſſion of the Roman ſtage;"’ tout ce qu' Horace dit icy prouve INCONTESTABLE⯑MENT qu'il y avoit des Satyres; yet thinks that Ho⯑race laviſhed all theſe inſtructions on them, chiefly for the ſake of the ATELLANE FABLES. The author of the Engliſh Commentary is of the ſame opinion, [103] and labours the point very aſſiduouſly. I cannot, however, diſcover, in any part of Horace's diſcourſe on the SATYRS, one expreſſion glancing towards the ATELLANES, though their OSCAN peculiarities might eaſily have been marked, ſo as not to be miſtaken.
The Commentators have given various explana⯑tions of this precept. De Nores interprets it to ſig⯑nify that the ſame actor, who repreſented a God or Hero in the TRAGICK part of the Drama, muſt not be employed to repreſent a Faun or Sylvan in the SA⯑TYRICK.
Dacier has a ſtrange conceit concerning the joint performance of a Tragedy and Atellane at one time, the ſame God or Hero being repreſented as the prin⯑cipal ſubject and character of both; on which occa⯑ſion, (ſays he) the Poet recommends to the author not to debaſe the God, or Hero of the TRAGEDY, by ſinking his language and manners too low in the ATELLANE; whoſe ſtyle, as well as meaſure, ſhould be peculiar to itſelf, equally diſtant from Tragedy and Farce.
[104]The author of the Engliſh Commentary tells us, that ‘"Gods and Heroes were introduced as well into the Satyrick as Tragick Drama, and often the very ſame Gods and Heroes, which had borne a part in THE PRECEDING TRAGEDY; a practice, which Horace, I ſuppoſe, intended, by this hint, to re⯑commend as moſt regular."’
The two ſhort notes of Schrevelius, in my opinion, more clearly explain the ſenſe of Horace, and are in theſe words.
On the whole, ſuppoſing the SATYRICK Piece to be Tragi-Comick, as Dacier himſelf ſeems half in⯑clined to believe, the precept of Horace only re⯑commends to the author ſo to ſupport his principal perſonage, that his behaviour in the SATYRICK ſcenes ſhall not debaſe the character he has ſuſtained in the TRAGICK. No ſpecimen remaining of the Roman SATYRICK Piece, I may be permitted to il⯑luſtrate the rule of Horace by a brilliant example from the ſerio-comick HISTORIES of the Sovereign of our Drama. The example to which I point, is the [105] character of the PRINCE of WALES, in the two Parts of Henry the Fourth. Such a natural and beautiful decorum is maintained in the diſplay of that cha⯑racter, that the Prince is as diſcoverable in the looſe ſcenes with Falſtaff and his aſſociates, as in the Preſence Chamber, or the Cloſet. After the natural, though MIXT DRAMAS, of Shakeſpear, and Beau⯑mont and Fletcher, had prevailed on our ſtage, it is ſurpriſing that our progreſs to pure Tragedy and Co⯑medy, ſhould have been interrupted, or diſturbed, by the regular monſter of TRAGI-COMEDY, nurſed by Southerne and Dryden.
The author of the Engliſh Commentary propoſes a conjectural emendation of Horace's text—HONO⯑RATA inſtead of INORNATA—and accompanied with a new and elevated ſenſe aſſigned to the word DOMI⯑NANTIA. This laſt word is interpreted in the ſame manner by De Nores. Moſt other Commentators explain it to ſignify common words, obſerving its ana⯑logy to the Greek term [...]. The ſame expreſſion [106] prevails in our tongue—a REIGNING word, a REIGN⯑ING faſhion, &c. The general caſt of the SATYR ſeems to render a caution againſt a lofty ſtile not very neceſſary; yet it muſt be acknowledged that ſuch a caution is given by the Poet, excluſive of the above propoſed variation.
‘352.—Davus may jeſt, &c.—Davuſne loqua⯑tur, &c.’
It ſhould ſeem from hence, that the common cha⯑racters of Comedy, as well as the Gods and Heroes of Tragedy, had place in the SATYRICK DRAMA, cultivated in the days of Horace. Of the manner in which the antient writers ſuſtained the part of Silenus, we may judge from the CYCLOPS of Eu⯑ripides, and the PASTORALS of Virgil.
Voſſius attempts to ſhew from ſome lines of this part of the Epiſtle, [Ne quicumque Deus, &c.] that the SATYRS were ſubjoined to the Tragick ſcenes, not incorporated with them: and yet at the ſame mo⯑ment he tells us, and with apparent approbation, that DIOMEDES quotes our Poet to prove that they [107] were BLENDED WITH EACH OTHER: ſimul ut ſpectator, INTER RES TRAGICAS, SERIASQUE, SATYRORUM QUOQUE JOCIS, & LUSIBUS, delectaretur.
I cannot more ſatisfactorily conclude all that I have to urge, on the ſubject of the SATYRICK DRAMA, as here deſcribed by Horace, than by one more ſhort extract from the notes of the ingenious author of the Engliſh Commentary, to the ſubſtance of which extract I give the moſt full aſſent.
Horace having, after the example of his maſter Ariſtotle, ſlightly mentioned the firſt riſe of Tragedy in the form of a CHORAL SONG, ſubjoining an ac⯑count of the SATYRICK CHORUS, that was ſoon (MOX etiam) combined with it, proceeds to ſpeak particularly of the Iambick verſe, which he has be⯑fore mentioned generally, as the meaſure beſt ac⯑commodated to the Drama. In this inſtance, how⯑ever, the Poet has treſpaſſed againſt the order and method obſerved by his philoſophical guide; and by that treſpaſs broken the thread of his hiſtory of the Drama, which has added to the difficulty and ob⯑ſcurity of this part of his Epiſtle. Ariſtotle does not ſpeak of the MEASURE, till he has brought Tra⯑gedy, through all its progreſſive ſtages, from the Dithyrambicks, down to its eſtabliſhment by Aeſ⯑chylus and Sophocles. If the reader would judge of the poetical beauty, as well as logical preciſion, of ſuch an arrangement, let him transfer this ſection of the Epiſtle [beginning, in the original at v. 251. and ending at 274,] to the end of the 284th line; by which tranſpoſition, or I am much miſtaken, he will [109] not only diſembarraſs this hiſtorical part of it, rela⯑tive to the Graecian ſtage, but will paſs by a much eaſier, and more elegant, tranſition, to the Poet's application of the narrative to the Roman Drama.
The Engliſh reader, inclined to make the expe⯑riment, muſt take the lines of the tranſlation from v. 268. to v. 403, both incluſive, and inſert them⯑after v. 420.
It is further to be obſerved that this detail on the IAMBICK is not, with ſtrict propriety, annext to a critical hiſtory of the SATYR, in which, as Ariſtotle inſinuates, was uſed the CAPERING Tetrameter, and, as the Grammarians obſerve, Triſyllabicks.
Pope has imitated and illuſtrated this paſſage.
It is ſurpriſing that Dacier, who, in a controverſial note, in refutation of Heinſius, has ſo properly re⯑marked Horace's adherence to Ariſtotle, ſhould not have obſerved that his hiſtory of the Drama opens and proceeds nearly in the ſame order. Ariſtotle in⯑deed does not name Theſpis, but we cannot but in⯑clude his improvements among the changes, to which the Critick refers, before Tragedy acquired a per⯑manent form under Aeſchylus. Theſpis ſeems not only to have embodied the CHORUS, but to have pro⯑vided a theatrical apparatus for an itinerant exhibition; to have furniſhed diſguiſes for his performers, and to have broken the continuity of the CHORUS by an Interlocutor; to whom Aeſchylus adding another per⯑ſonage, thereby firſt created DRAMATICK DIA⯑LOGUE; while at the ſame time by a further diminu⯑tion of the CHORUS, by improving the dreſſes of the actors, and drawing them from their travelling waggon to a fixt ſtage, he created a regular theatre.
[111]It appears then that neither Horace, nor Ariſtotle, aſcribe the origin of Tragedy to THESPIS. The Poet firſt mentions the rude beginning of Tragedy, (carmen tragicum) the GOAT-SONG; he then ſpeaks of the Satyrick Chorus, ſoon after interwoven with it; and then proceeds to the improvements of theſe Bacchic Feſtivities, by Theſpis, and Aeſchylus; though their perfection and final eſtabliſhment is aſ⯑cribed by Ariſtotle to Sophocles.
DACIER very properly renders this paſſage, On dit que Theſpis fut le premier qui inventa UNE ESPECI DE TRAGEDIE AUPARAVANT INCONNUE AUX GRECS. ‘"Theſpis is ſaid to be the firſt inventor of a ſpecies of Tragedy, before unknown to the Greeks."’
Boileau ſeems to have conſidered this part of the Epiſtle in the ſame light, that I have endeavoured to place it.
Evidently becauſe, though the jus nocendi was taken away, yet that was no good reaſon why the Chorus ſhould entirely ceaſe. M. Dacier miſtakes the matter. Le choeur ſe tût ignominueſement, parce⯑que la loi reprima ſa licence, et que ce fut, à propre⯑ment parler, la loi qui le bannit; ce qu' Horace re⯑garde comme une eſpece de flétriſſure. Properly ſpeak⯑ing, the law only aboliſhed the abuſe of the Chorus. The ignominy lay in dropping the entire uſe of it, on account of this reſtraint. Horace was of opi⯑nion, that the Chorus ought to have been retained, though the ſtate had abridged it of the licence, it [113] ſo much delighted in, of an illimited, and intem⯑perate ſatire, Sublatus Chorus fuit, ſays Scaliger, cujus illae videntur eſſe praecipuae partes, ut potiſſimum quos liberet, laederent.
If Dacier be miſtaken in this inſtance, his miſtake is common to all the Commentators; not one of whom, the learned and ingenious author of the above note excepted, has been able to extract from theſe words any marks of Horace's predilection in favour of a CHORUS, or cenſure of "its culpable omiſſion" in Comedy. De Nores expreſſes the general ſenſe of the Criticks on this paſſage.
What Horace himſelf ſays on a ſimilar occaſion, of the ſuppreſſion of the Feſcennine verſes, in the [114] Epiſtle to Auguſtus, is perhaps the beſt comment on this paſſage.
The author of the Engliſh Commentary has a note on this paſſage, replete with fine taſte, and ſound criticiſm.
This judgment of the poet, recommending do⯑meſtick ſubjects, as fitteſt for the ſtage, may be inforced from many obvious reaſons. As, 1. that it renders the drama infinitely more affecting: and this on many accounts, 1. As a ſubject, taken from our own annals, muſt of courſe carry with it an air of greater probability, at leaſt to the ge⯑nerality of the people, than one borrowed from [115] thoſe of any other nation. 2. As we all find a perſonal intereſt in the ſubject. 3. As it of courſe affords the beſt and eaſieſt opportunities of catch⯑ing our minds, by frequent references to our man⯑ners, prejudices, and cuſtoms. And of how great importance this is, may be learned from hence, that, even in the exhibition of foreign charac⯑ters, dramatic writers have found themſelves obliged to ſacrifice truth and probability to the humour of the people, and to dreſs up their per⯑ſonages, contrary to their own better judgment, in ſome degree according to the mode and man⯑ners of their reſpective countries*. And, 4. as the writer himſelf, from an intimate acquaintance with the character and genius of his own nation, [116] will be more likely to draw the manners with life and ſpirit.
II. Next, which ſhould ever be one great point in view, it renders the drama more generally uſe⯑ful in its moral deſtination. For, it being con⯑verſant about domeſtic acts, the great inſtruction of the fable more ſenſibly affects us; and the cha⯑racters exhibited, from the part we take in their good or ill qualities, will more probably influence our conduct.
III. Laſtly, this judgment will deſerve the greater regard, as the conduct recommended was, in fact, the practice of our great models, the Greek writers; in whoſe plays, it is obſervable, there is ſcarcely a ſingle ſcene, which lies out of the confines of Greece.
But, notwithſtanding theſe reaſons, the practice hath, in all times, been but little followed. The Romans, after ſome few attempts in this way (from whence the poet took the occaſion of de⯑livering it as a dramatic precept), ſoon relapſed into their old uſe; as appears from Seneca's, and the titles of other plays, written in, or after the Auguſtan age. Succeeding times continued the [117] ſame attachment to Grecian, with the addition of an equal fondneſs for Roman, ſubjects. The rea⯑ſon in both inſtances hath been ever the ſame: that ſtrong and early prejudice, approaching ſome⯑what to adoration, in favour of the illuſtrious names of thoſe two great ſtates. The account of this matter is very eaſy; for their writings, as they furniſh the buſineſs of our younger, and the amuſement of our riper, years; and more eſpecially make the ſtudy of all thoſe, who devote themſelves to poetry and the ſtage, inſenſibly infix in us an exceſſive veneration for all affairs in which they were concerned; inſomuch, that no other ſubjects or events ſeem conſiderable enough, or riſe, in any proportion, to our ideas of the dignity of the tragick ſcene, but ſuch as time and long admiration have conſecrated in the annals of their ſtory. Our Shakeſpeare was, I think, the firſt that broke through this bondage of claſſical ſuper⯑ſtition. And he owed this felicity, as he did ſome others, to his want of what is called the advantage of a learned education. Thus uninfluenced by the weight of early prepoſſeſſion, he ſtruck at once into the road of nature and common ſenſe: and with⯑out deſigning, without knowing it, hath left us in his hiſtorical plays, with all their anomalies, [118] an exacter reſemblance of the Athenian ſtage, than is any where to be found in its moſt profeſſed ad⯑mirers and copyiſts.
I will only add, that, for the more ſucceſsful execution of this rule of celebrating domeſtic acts, much will depend on the aera, from whence the ſubject is taken. Times too remote have almoſt the ſame inconveniences, and none of the advan⯑tages, which attend the ages of Greece and Rome. And for thoſe of later date, they are too much fa⯑miliarized to us, and have not as yet acquired that venerable caſt and air, which tragedy demands, and age only can give. There is no fixing this point with preciſion. In the general, that aera is the fitteſt for the poet's purpoſe, which, though freſh enough in our minds to warm and intereſt us in the event of the action, is yet at ſo great a diſtance from the preſent times, as to have loſt all thoſe mean and diſparaging circumſtances, which unavoidably adhere to recent deeds, and, in ſome meaſure, ſink the nobleſt modern tranſ⯑actions to the level of ordinary life.
[119]The author of the Eſſay on the Writings and Ge⯑nius of Pope elegantly enforces a like opinion, and obſerves that Milton left a liſt of thirty-three ſub⯑jects for Tragedy, all taken from the Engliſh An⯑nals.
THE GOWN (Toga) being the common Roman habit, ſignifies Comedy; and THE INWOVEN PURPLE (praetexta) being appropriated to the higher orders, refers to Tragedy. Togatae was alſo uſed as a general term to denote all plays, in which the habits, man⯑ners, and arguments were ROMAN; thoſe, of which the cuſtoms and ſubjects were GRAECIAN, like the Comedies of Terence, were called Palliatae.
The Engliſh Commentary exhibits a very juſt and correct analyſis of this portion of the Epiſtle, but [120] neither here, nor in any other part of it, obſerves the earneſtneſs with which the Poet, on every new topick, addreſſes his diſcourſe to the Piſos; a practice, that has not paſſed unnoticed by other Commenta⯑tors. On this paſſage De Nores writes thus.
De Nores has a comment on this paſſage; but the ambiguity of the Latin relative renders it uncertain, how far the Critick applies particularly to the Piſos, except by the Apoſtrophe taken notice of in the laſt note. His words are theſe. Niſi horum DEMOCRI⯑TICORUM opinionem Horatius hoc in loco refutaſſet, fruſtra de poeticâ facultate IN HAC AD PISONES EPIS⯑TOLA praecepta literis tradidiſſet, cùm arte ipſâ repudi⯑atâ, AB HIS tantummodo inſaniae & furori daretur locus.
Lycinus was not only, as appears from Horace, an eminent Barber; but ſaid, by ſome, to have been created a Senator by Auguſtus, on account of his enmity to Pompey.
This precept ſeeming, at firſt ſight, liable to be interpreted as recommending perſonal imitations, De Nores, Dacier, and the Author of the Engliſh Com⯑mentary, all concur to inculcate the principles of Plato, Ariſtotle, and Cicero, ſhewing that the truth of repreſentation (verae voces) muſt be derived from an imitation of general nature, not from copying indi⯑viduals. Mankind, however, being a mere collection of individuals, it is impoſſible for the Poet, not to found his obſervations on particular objects; and his chief [122] ſkill ſeems to conſiſt in the happy addreſs, with which he is able to generalize his ideas, and to ſink the likeneſs of the individual in the reſemblance of uni⯑verſal nature. A great Poet, and a great Painter, have each illuſtrated this doctrine moſt happily; and with their obſervations I ſhall conclude this note.
Nothing in the art requires more attention and judgment, or more of that power of diſcrimina⯑tion, which may not improperly be called Genius, than the ſteering between general ideas and indi⯑viduality; for though the body of the whole muſt certainly be compoſed by the firſt, in order to communicate a character of grandeur to the whole, yet a daſh of the latter is ſometimes neceſſary to give an intereſt. An individual model, copied with ſcrupulous exactneſs, makes a mean ſtyle like the Dutch; and the neglect of an actual model, and the method of proceeding ſolely from idea, has [123] a tendency to make the Painter degenerate into a manneriſt.
It is neceſſary to keep the mind in repair, to replace and refreſhen thoſe impreſſions of nature, which are continually wearing away.
A circumſtance mentioned in the life of Guido, is well worth the attention of Artiſts: He was aſked from whence he borrowed his idea of beauty, which is acknowledged ſuperior to that of every other Painter; he ſaid he would ſhew all the models he uſed, and ordered a common Porter to ſit before him, from whom he drew a beautiful countenance; this was intended by Guido as an exaggeration of his conduct; but his intention was to ſhew that he thought it neceſſary to have ſome model of nature before you, however you deviate from it, and correct it from the idea which you have formed in your mind of perfect beauty.
In Painting it is far better to have a model even to depart from, than to have nothing fixed and certain to determine the idea: There is ſomething then to proceed on, ſomething to be corrected; ſo that even ſuppoſing that no part is taken, the model has ſtill been not without uſe.
[124]Such habits of intercourſe with nature, will at leaſt create that variety which will prevent any one's prognoſticating what manner of work is to be produced, on knowing the ſubject, which is the moſt diſagreeable character an Artiſt can have.
‘482.—ALBIN's HOPEFUL.] Filius ALBINI.’
Albinus was ſaid to be a rich Uſurer. All that is neceſſary to explain this paſſage to the Engliſh reader, is to obſerve, that the Roman Pound conſiſted of TWELVE Ounces.
The antients, for the better preſervation of their manuſcripts, rubbed them with the juice of Cedar, and kept them in caſes of Cypreſs.
[125]Alluding moſt probably to ſome Drama of the time, exhibiting ſo monſtrous and horrible an in⯑cident.
‘506.—THE SOSII.]’ Roman bookſellers.
‘525.—CHAERILUS.]’ A wretched poet, who ce⯑lebrated the actions, and was diſtinguiſhed by the patronage, of Alexander.
‘529.—IF HOMER SEEM TO NOD, OR CHANCE TO DREAM.]’
It may not be diſagreeable to the reader to ſee what two poets of our own country have ſaid on this ſubject.
Here ends, in my opinion, the didactick part of this Epiſtle; and it is remarkable that it concludes, as it begun, with a reference to the Analogy be⯑tween Poetry and Painting. The arts are indeed congenial, and the ſame general principles govern both. Artiſts might collect many uſeful hints from this Epiſtle. The Lectures of the Preſident of the Royal Academy are not merely accommodated to the ſtudy of Painters; but Poets may refine their taſte, and derive the moſt valuable inſtruction, from the peruſal of thoſe judicious and elegant diſ⯑courſes.
We are now arrived at that portion of the Epiſtle, which I muſt confeſs I am ſurpriſed, that any Com⯑mentator ever paſt, without obſerving the peculiar language and conduct of the Poet. There is a kind of awful affection in his manner, wonderfully cal⯑culated to move our feelings and excite our atten⯑tion. The DIDACTICK and the EPISTOLARY ſtile were never more happily blended. The Poet aſſumes the air of a father adviſing his ſon, rather than of a teacher inſtructing his pupils. Many Criticks have thrown out a curſory obſervation or two, as it were extorted from them by the pointed expreſſions of the Poet: but none of them, that I have conſulted, have attempted to aſſign any reaſon, why Horace, having cloſed his particular precepts, addreſſes all the re⯑mainder of his Epiſtle, on the nature and expediency of Poetical purſuits, to the ELDER PISO only. I have endeavoured to give the moſt natural reaſon for this conduct; a reaſon which, if I am not deceived, renders the whole of the Epiſtle intereſting, as well as clear and conſiſtent; a reaſon which I am the more inclined to think ſubſtantial, as it confirms in great meaſure the ſyſtem of the Author of the Engliſh [128] Commentary, only ſhewing the reflections on the Drama in THIS EPISTLE, as well as in THE EPISTLE TO AUGUSTUS, to be incidental, rather than the prin⯑cipal ſubject, and main deſign, of the Poet.
Jaſon De Nores, in this inſtance, as in moſt others, has paid more attention to his Author, than the reſt of the Commentators. His note is as follows.
The Poet, with great delicacy, throws in a com⯑pliment to theſe diſtinguiſhed characters of his time, for their ſeveral eminence in their profeſſion. Meſ⯑ſala is more than once mentioned as the friend and patron of Horace.
The pecuniary qualification for the Equeſtrian Order. Cenſus equeſtrem ſummam nummorum.
Horace, says Dacier, here addreſſes the ELDER PISO, as a man of mature years and underſtanding; and he begins with panegyrick, rather than advice, in order to ſoften the precepts he is about to lay down to him.
The explication of De Nores is much to the ſame effect, as well as that of many other Commen⯑tators.
This, ſays Dacier, was ſome time afterwards actually the caſe, if we may believe the old Scho⯑liaſt, who writes that this PISO compoſed Tragedies.
‘570.—METIUS.]’ A great Critick; and ſaid to be appointed by Auguſtus as a Judge, to appre⯑ciate the merit of literary performances. His name [130] and office are, on other occaſions, mentioned and recognized by Horace.
This precept, which, like many others in the Epiſtle, is rather retailed, than invented, by Horace, has been thought by ſome Criticks rather extrava⯑gant; but it acquires in this place, as addreſſed to the ELDER PISO, a concealed archneſs, very agree⯑able to the Poet's ſtyle and manner. Pope has ap⯑plied the precept with much humour, but with more open raillery than ſuited the writer's purpoſe in this Epiſtle.
VIDA, in his Poeticks, after the ſtrongeſt cen⯑ſure of careleſſneſs and precipitation, concludes with a caution againſt too exceſſive an attention to cor⯑rectneſs, too frequent reviſals, and too long delay of publication. The paſſage is as elegant as judi⯑cious.
Laws were originally written in verſe, and graved on wood. The Roman laws were engraved on cop⯑per.
‘597.—TYRTAEUS.]’ An ancient Poet, who is ſaid to have been given to the Spartans as a General by the Oracle, and to have animated the Troops by his Verſes to ſuch a degree, as to be the means of their triumph over the Meſſenians, after two defeats: [132] to which Roſcommon alludes in his Eſſay on Tranſlated Verſe.
Some fragments of his works are ſtill extant. They are written in the Elegiac meaſure; yet the ſenſe is not, as in other Poets, always bound in by the Couplet; but often breaks out into the ſucceed⯑ing verſe; a practice, that certainly gives variety and animation to the meaſure; and which has been ſucceſsfully imitated in the rhyme of our own lan⯑guage by Dryden, and other good writers.
The author of the Engliſh Commentary agrees, that this noble encomium on Poetry is addreſſed to the Piſos. All other Commentators apply it, as ſurely the text warrants, to the ELDER PISO. In a long controverſial note on this paſſage, the learned Critick abovementioned alſo explains the text thus. [133] ‘"In fact, this whole paſſage [from et vitae, &c. to cantor Apollo] obliquely glances at the two ſorts of poetry, peculiarly cultivated by himſelf, and is an indirect apology for his own choice of them. For 1. vitae monſtrata via eſt, is the character of his Sermones. And 2. all the reſt of his Odes,"—"I muſt add, the very terms of the Apology ſo expreſsly define and characterize Lyrick Poetry, that it is ſomething ſtrange, it ſhould have eſcaped vulgar notice."’ There is much ingenuity in this interpretation, and it is ſupported with much learning and ability; yet I cannot think that Ho⯑race meant to conclude this fine encomium, on the dignity and excellence of the Art of Poetry, by a partial reference to the two particular ſpecies of it, that had been the objects of his own attention. The MUSE, and APOLLO, were the avowed patrons and inſpirers of Poetry in general, whether Epick, Dramatick, Civil, Moral, or Religious; all of which are enumerated by Horace in the courſe of his panegyrick, and referred to in the concluſion of it, that PISO might not for a moment think himſelf degraded by his attention to poetry.
In hoc epilogo reddit breviter rationem, quare utili⯑tates à poetis mortalium vitae allatas recenſuerit: ne [134] ſcilicet Piſones, ex nobiliſſimâ Calpurniorum familiâ ortos, Muſarum & Artis Poeticae quam profitebantur, aliqnandò poeniteret.
Haec, inquit, eò recenſui, ut quàm olim res arduas poetica tractaverit, cognoſcas, & ne Muſas contemnas, atque in Poetarum referri numerum, erubeſcas.
Ne forte pudori.] Haec dixi, O Piso, ne te pudeat Poetam eſſe.
In writing precepts for poetry to young perſons, this queſtion could not be forgotten. Horace there⯑fore, to prevent the Piſos from falling into a fatal error, by too much confidence in their Genius, aſ⯑ſerts moſt decidedly, that Nature and Art muſt both conſpire to form a Poet. DACIER.
[135]The Duke of Buckingham has taken up this ſubject very happily.
‘626.—As the ſly hawker, &c.]’ Various Com⯑mentators concur in marking the perſonal application of this paſſage.
Faithful friends are neceſſary, to appriſe a Poet of his errors: but ſuch friends are rare, and difficult [136] to be diſtinguiſhed by rich and powerful Poets, like THE PISOS.
PISONEM admonet, ut minime hoc genus divitum poetarum imitetur, neminemque vel jam pranſum, out donatum, ad ſuorum carminum emendationem admittat. NEQUE ENIM POTERIT ILLE NON VEHEMENTER LAUDARE, ETIAMSI VITUPERANDA VIDEANTUR.
In what ſenſe Roſcommon, the Tranſlator of this Epiſtle, underſtood this paſſage, the following lines from another of his works will teſtify.
‘630.—But if he keeps a table, &c.—Si vero eſt, unctum, &c.’
‘"Here (ſays Dacier) the Poet pays, en paſſant, a very natural and delicate compliment to the Piſos."’ The drift of the Poet is evident, but I cannot diſ⯑cover the compliment.
Here the Poet adviſes THE ELDER PISO never to read his verſes to a man, to whom he has made a promiſe, or a preſent: a venal friend cannot be a good Critick; he will not ſpeak his mind freely to his patron; but, like a corrupt judge, betray truth and juſtice for the ſake of intereſt.
Regum exemplo PISONES ADMONET, ut neminem ad⯑mittant ad ſuorum carminum emendationem, niſi prius optimè cognitum, atque perſpectum.
‘657.—QUINTILIUS.]’ ‘The Poet Quintilius Va⯑rus, the relation and intimate friend of Virgil and Horace; of whom the latter lamented his death in a pathetick and beautiful Ode, ſtill extant in his works. Quintilius appears to have been ſome time dead, at the time of our Poet's writing this Epiſtle. DACIER.’
QUINTILIUS.] Deſcriptis adulatorum moribus & conſuetudine, affert optimi & ſapientiſſimi judicis ex⯑emplum: Quintilii ſcilicet, qui tantae erat authoritatis apud Romanos, ut EI VIRGILII OPERA AUGUSTUS TRADIDERIT EMENDANDA.
It particularly ſuited Horace to paint the ſevere and rigid judge of compoſition. Pope's plan ad⯑mitted ſofter colours in his draught of a true Critick.
‘"Horace, (ſays Dacier) diverts himſelf with de⯑ſcribing the folly of a Poet, whom his flatterers have driven mad."’ To whom the caution againſt flatterers was addreſſed, has before been obſerved by Dacier. This deſcription therefore, growing immediately out of that caution, muſt be conſidered as addreſſed to THE ELDER PISO.
This is but a cold conceit, not much in the uſual manner of Horace.
[140]The BIDENTAL was a place that had been ſtruck with lightning, and afterwards expiated by the erection of an altar and the ſacrifice of ſheep; hoſtiis BIDENTIBUS; from which it took its name. The removal or diſturbance of this ſacred monu⯑ment was deemed ſacrilege; and the attempt, a ſup⯑poſed judgment from heaven, as a puniſhment for ſome heavy crime.
The Engliſh Commentary introduces the explica⯑tion of the laſt hundred and eleven lines of this Epiſtle, the lines which, I think, determine the ſcope and intention of the whole, in the following manner.
‘"Having made all the reaſonable allowances which a writer could expect, he (Horace) goes on to enforce the general inſtruction of this part, viz. A DILIGENCE IN WRITING, by ſhewing [from l. 366 to 379] that a mediocrity, however tolerable, or even commendable, it might be in other arts, would never be allowed in this."—[141] "This reflexion leads him with great advantage [from l. 379 to 391] to the general concluſion in view, viz. that as none but excellent poetry will be allowed, it ſhould be a warning to writers, HOW THEY ENGAGE IN IT WITHOUT ABILITIES; OR PUBLISH WITHOUT SEVERE AND FREQUENT CORRECTION."’
If the learned Critick here means that ‘"the ge⯑neral inſtruction of this part, viz. A DILIGENCE IN WRITING, is chiefly inculcated, for the ſake of the general concluſion in view, a warning to writers, HOW THEY ENGAGE IN POETRY WITH⯑OUT ABILITIES, OR PUBLISH WITHOUT SEVERE AND FREQUENT CORRECTION;"’ if, I ſay, a diſ⯑ſuaſive from unadviſed attempts, and precipitate pub⯑lication, is conceived to be the main purpoſe and deſign of the Poet, we perfectly agree concerning this laſt, and important portion of the Epiſtle: with this addition, however, on my part, that ſuch a diſ⯑ſuaſive is not merely general, but immediately and perſonally directed and applied to the ELDER PISO; and that too in the ſtrongeſt terms that words can afford, and with a kind of affectionate earneſtneſs, particularly expreſſive of the Poet's deſire to awaken and arreſt his young friend's attention.
I have endeavoured, after the example of the learned and ingenious author of the Engliſh Commentary, though on ſomewhat different principles, to prove ‘"an unity of deſign in this Epiſtle,"’ as well as to illuſtrate ‘"the pertinent connection of its ſeveral parts."’ Many perhaps, like myſelf, will heſitate to embrace the ſyſtem of that acute Critick; and as many, or more, may reject my hypotheſis. But I am thoroughly perſuaded that no perſon, who has conſidered this work of Horace with due attention, and carefully examined the drift and intention of the writer, but will at leaſt be convinced of the folly or blindneſs, or haſte and careleſſneſs of thoſe Criticks, however diſtinguiſhed, who have pro⯑nounced it to be a crude, unconnected, immethodi⯑cal, and inartificial compoſition. No modern, I believe, ever more intently ſtudied, or more clearly underſtood the works of Horace, than BOILEAU. His Art of Poetry is deſervedly admired. But I am ſurpriſed that it has never been obſerved that the Plan of that work is formed on the model of this Epiſtle, though ſome of the parts are more in detail, and others varied, according to the age and country of the writer. The firſt Canto, like the firſt Section of the Epiſtle to the Piſos, is taken up in general pre⯑cepts. The ſecond enlarges on the Lyrick, and [143] Elegiack, and ſmaller ſpecies of Poetry, but cur⯑ſorily mentioned, or referred to, by Horace; but introduced by him into that part of the Epiſtle, that runs exactly parallel with the ſecond Canto of Boi⯑leau's Art of Poetry. The third Canto treats, en⯑tirely on the ground of Horace, of Epick and Dra⯑matick Poetry; though the French writer has, with great addreſs, accommodated to his purpoſe what Horace has ſaid but collaterally, and as it were in⯑cidentally, of the Epick. The laſt Canto is formed on the final ſection, the laſt hundred and eleven lines, of the Epiſtle to the Piſos: the author however, judiciouſly omitting in a profeſſed Art of Poetry, the deſcription of the Frantick Bard, and concluding his work, like the Epiſtle to Auguſtus, with a com⯑pliment to the Sovereign.
This imitation I have not pointed out, in order to depreciate the excellent work of Boileau; but to ſhew that, in the judgment of ſo great a writer, the method of Horace was not ſo ill conceived, as Scaliger pretends, even for the outline of an Art of Poetry: Boileau himſelf, at the very concluſion of his laſt Canto, ſeems to avow and glory in the charge of having founded his work on that of HORACE.
After endeavouring to vouch ſo ſtrong a teſtimony, in favour of Horace's unity and order, from France, it is but candid to acknowledge that two of the moſt popular Poets, of our own country, were of a con⯑trary opinion. Dryden, in his dedication of his tranſlation of the Aeneid to Lord Mulgrave, author of the Eſſay on Poetry, writes thus. ‘"In this ad⯑dreſs to your Lordſhip, I deſign not a treatiſe of Heroick Poetry, but write in a looſe Epiſtolary way, ſomewhat tending to that ſubject, after the ex⯑ample of Horace, in his firſt Epiſtle of the 2d Book to Auguſtus Caeſar, and of that TO THE PISOS; which we call his ART OF POETRY. In both of which he obſerves NO METHOD that I can trace, whatever Scaliger the Father, or Heinſius may have ſeen, or rather THINK they had ſeen. I have taken up, laid down, and reſumed as often as I pleaſed the ſame ſubject: and this looſe pro⯑ceeding I ſhall uſe through all this Prefatory [145] Dedication. Yet all this while I have been ſailing with ſome ſide wind or other toward the point I pro⯑poſed in the beginning."’ The latter part of the compariſon, if the compariſon is meant to hold throughout, as well as the words, ‘"ſomewhat tend⯑ing to that ſubject,"’ ſeem to qualify the reſt; as if Dryden only meant to diſtinguiſh the looſe EPIS⯑TOLARY way from the formality of a Treatiſe. How⯑ever this may be, had he ſeen the Chart, framed by the author of the Engliſh Commentary, or that now delineated, perhaps he might have allowed, that Horace not only made towards his point with ſome ſide-wind or other, but proceeded by an eaſy navi⯑gation and tolerably plain ſailing.
Many paſſages of this Dedication, as well as other pieces of Dryden's proſe, have been verſified by Pope. His opinion alſo, on the Epiſtle to the Piſos, is ſaid to have agreed with that of Dryden; though the Introduction to his Imitation of the Epiſtle to Auguſtus forbids us to ſuppoſe he entertained the like ſentiments of that work with his great prede⯑ceſſor. His general idea of Horace ſtands recorded in a moſt admirable didactick poem; in the courſe of which he ſeems to have kept a ſteady eye on this work of our author.
☞ I have now compleated my obſervations on this popular Work of Horace, of which I at firſt attempted the verſion and illuſtration, as a matter of amuſement; but which, I confeſs, I have felt, in the progreſs, to be an arduous undertaking, and a laborious taſk. Such parts of the Epiſtle, as cor⯑reſponded with the general ideas of Modern Poetry, and the Modern Drama, I flattered myſelf with the hopes of rendering tolerable to the Engliſh Reader; [147] but when I arrived at thoſe paſſages, wholly relative to the Antient Stage, I began to feel my friends dropping off, and leaving me a very thin audience. My part too grew leſs agreeable, as it grew more difficult. I was almoſt confounded in the ſerio⯑comick ſcenes of the Satyrick Piece: In the muſical department I was ready, with Le Fevre, to execrate the Flute, and all the Commentators on it; and when I found myſelf reduced to ſcan the merits and demerits of Spondees and Trimeters, I almoſt fancied myſelf under the dominion of ſome plagoſus Orbilius, and tranſlating the proſodia of the Latin Grammar. Borrowers and Imitators cull the ſweets, and ſuck the claſſick flowers, rejecting at pleaſure all that ap⯑pear ſour, bitter, or unpalatable. Each of them travels at his eaſe in the high turnpike-road of poetry, quoting the authority of Horace himſelf to keep clear of difficulties;
A tranſlator muſt ſtick cloſe to his Author, follow him up hill and down dale, over hedge and ditch, tearing his way after his leader thro' the thorns and brambles of literature, ſometimes loſt, and often benighted.
The reader, I fear, will fancy I rejoice too much at having broke looſe from my bondage, and that I grow wanton with the idea of having regained my liberty. I ſhall therefore engage an advocate to re⯑commend me to his candour and indulgence; and as I introduced theſe notes with ſome lines from a noble Poet of our own country, I ſhall conclude them with an extract from a French Critick: Or, if I may ſpeak the language of my trade, as I opened theſe annotations with a Prologue from ROSCOMMON, I ſhall drop the curtain with an Epilogue from DA⯑CIER. Another curtain now demands my attention. I am called from the contemplation of Antient Ge⯑nius, to ſacrifice, with due reſpect, to Modern Taſte: I am ſummoned from a review of the mag⯑nificent ſpectacles of Greece and Rome, to the re⯑hearſal of a Farce at the Little Theatre in the Hay-market.
Voila tout ce que j'ai cru neceſſaire pour l'in⯑telligence de la Poetique d'Horace! ſi Jule Sca⯑liger l'avoit bien entendue, il lui auroit rendu plus de juſtice, & en auroit parlé plus modeſtement. [149] Mais il ne s'eſtoit pas donnê la temps de le bien comprendre. Ce Livre eſtoit trop petit pour eſtre gouté d'un homme comme lui, qui faiſoit grand cas des gros volumes, & qui d'ailleurs aimoit bien mieux donner des regles que d'en recevoir. Sa Poetique eſt aſſurément un ouvrage d'une erudition infinie; on y trouve par tout des choſes fort re⯑cherchées, & elle eſt toute pleine de ſaillies qui marquent beaucoup d'eſprit: mais j'oſerai dire qu'il n'y a point de juſteſſe dans la pluſpart de ſes jugemens, & que ſa critique n'eſt pas heureuſe. Il devoit un peu plus etudier ces grands maitres, pour ſe corriger de ce defaut, qui rendra toujours le plus grand ſavoir inutile, ou au moins rude & ſec. Comme un homme delicat etanchera mille fois mieux ſa ſoif, & boira avec plus de goût & de plaiſir dans un ruiſſeau dont les eaux ſeront clairs & pures, que dans un fleuve plein de bourbe & de limon: tout de même, un eſprit fin qui ne cherche que la juſteſſe & une certaine fleur de critique, trouvera bien mieux ſon compte dans ce petite traité d'Horace, qu'il ne le trouverait dans vingt volumes auſſi enormes que la Poetique de Scaliger. On peut dire veritablement que celuy qui boit dans cette ſource pure, pleno ſe proluit auro; & tant pis pour celuy qui ne ſait pas le [150] connoiſtre. Pour moi j'en ai un tres grand cas, Je ne ſay fi j'auray eſté aſſez heureux pour la bien éclaircir, & pour en diſſiper ſi bien toutes les dif⯑ficultés, qu'il n'y en reſte aucune. Les plus grandes de ces difficultés, viennent des paſſages qu'Horace a imité des Grecs, ou des alluſions qu'il y a faites. Je puis dire au moins que je n'en ay laiſſé paſſer aucune ſans l'attaquer; & je pour⯑rois me vanter,
En general je puis dire que malgré la foule des Commentateurs & des Traducteurs, Horace eſtoit tres-malentendu, & que ſes plus beaux endroits eſtoient défigurés par les mauvais ſens qu'on leur avoit donnés juſques icy, & il ne faut pas s'en étonner. La pluſpart des gens ne reconnoiſſent pas tant l'autoritè de la raiſon que celle du grand nombre, pour laquelle ils ont un profond reſpect. Pour moy qui ſay qu'en matiere de critique on ne doit pas comptez les voix, mais les peſer; j'avoüe que j'ay ſecoüé ce joug, & que ſans m'aſſujetir au ſentiment de perſonne, j'ay tâché de ſuivre Ho⯑race, & de démêler ce qu'il a dit d'avec ce qu'on luy a fait dire. J'ay meſme toûjours remarqué [151] & j'en pourrois donner des exemples bien ſenſibles) que quand des eſprits accoûtumés aux cordes, comme dit Montagne, & qui n'oſent tenter de franches allures, enterprennent de traduire & de commenter ces excellens Ouvrages, où il y a plus de fineſſe & plus de myſtere qu'il n'en paroiſt, tout leur travail ne fait que les gâter, & que la ſeule vertu qu'ayent leur copies, c'eſt de nous dégoûter preſque des originaux. Comme j'ay pris la liberté de juger du travail de ceux qui m'ont précedé, & que je n'ay pas fait difficulté de les condamner tres⯑ſouvent, je declare que je ne trouveray nullement mauvais qu'on juge du mien, & qu'on releve mes fautes: il eſt diſſicile qu'il n'y en ait, & meſme beaucoup; ſi quelqu'un veut donc ſe donner la peine de me reprendre, & de me faire voir que j'ay mal pris le ſens, je me corrigeray avec plaiſir: car JE NE CHERCHE QUE LA VERITV'E, QUI N'A JA⯑MAIS BLESS'E PERSONNE: AU LIEU QU'ON SE TROUVE TOUJOURS MAL DE PERSISTER DANS SON IGNORANCE ET DANS SON ERREUR.