Chapter 2

Well do they play the careful Critick's Part,Instructing doubly by their matchless Art:Rules for good Verse they first with Pains indite,Then shew us what are bad by what they write.

TheGuardianandSpectatorwould not do the Poets the Honour to name them; but we know who are the Criticks which arethrown asideby them; for no Body but Mr.D——and Mr.G——made Remarks upon their Writings, and both of them did. I do not say with that Politeness and Elegance, which theSpectatorandGuardianhave laid down, as the sole Characteristicks of good Talk and Judgement; though one may almost as well say, that a Man cannot have good Sense and Wit, without good Cloaths and a genteel Air. I must needs own, that I think most of their Criticisms very just, though had they been still juster than they are, I would not nave been the Author of them, without taking Notice of Beauties, as well as finding of Faults, there being much more Room for the former than the latter.

It is very plain, theSpectatorhighly stomached the Remarks which were made on his Writings, and is not very candid in his Reasoning, to render his Opponents contemptible, which was the surest Way of disarming them.These Criticks fall upon a Play, not because it is ill written, but because it takes: This is not the whole Truth. It is not because ittakes, but because it takes for those very Things which should have damned itDurfey'sBoarding-School, and hisMarriage-Hater match'd, took with a Vengeance, though the two greatest Pieces of Wit in them, wereMiss's Bread and Butter, andMynheer's Muff.Settle's Tragedies took for the Noise, the Show, and the Rhime. No Play, that was not supported by poetical or political Party, which mosttakingPlays have been, ever took more thanSettle'sHeir of Morocco, in which there is not one good Thought or Expression. Again,several of these Criticks have laid it down as a Maxim, that whatever Dramatick Poem has a long Run, must of Necessity be good for nothing, which is a Misrepresentation. TheOrphan,Venice Preserv'd,Tamerlane,&c.hadlong Runs, andrunstill; yet no Critick has dared to say they did not deserve it: But whoever will owe his Reputation totakingonly, must be contented to roll withSettle,Durfey, and many other Poets, thattookin their Turn. Could any thing be more monstrous, than to determine the Merit ofNixon's Prophecy, and theSpectator, by the Run of the Papers. The former, a Maggot given to the Rabble, bore more Editions in Ten Weeks, than the latter has done in Ten Years.

I would not be understood in this, or any thing else, to endeavour to lessen the Opinion the People have generally and justly of theSpectator's Perfections: I verily believe, there is no Production of the Mind, ancient or modern, where are to be found more Wit, Politeness, fine Raillery, good Sense, Learning, and Eloquence; but what I have said, is to shew, that great Wits as well as little have their Passions, their Piques and Prejudices, when the least Blemish is discovered in their Glory. In the sameSpectator, we have another Hint, that no Body ought to criticise on that Author's Writings, unless he could write as elegantly as himself, which effectually cuts off allCriticism. Theseprofessed Criticks cannot put ten Words together with Elegance, or common Propriety. What an arbitrary Way of arguing is this? These Criticks are Smatterers;They vilify only the Productions that gain Applause; the Blemishes they descry are imaginary; their Arguments are far fetched; Their Works are like those of the Sophists, they are thought deep, because unintelligible; they instruct the People in Absurdities. Would theSpectatorallow this positive Air in any other Writer? How does it appear that one Word of all this is true?Ipse dixit.That must satisfy, though he is in this Case too much a Party, to be a Judge.TheseCriticksare led themselves into Absurdities, by not considering, That there is sometimes a greater Judgement shewn in deviating from the Rules of Art, than adhering to them. The Wordsometimeshere would make every right Argument wrong, and every Truth Falsehood, becausesometimesthere may be an Exception to a general Rule. Why, does he not tell us, wherein himself, or any one else shewed his Judgement in deviating from the Rules of Art? TheCritical Smatterersdo not charge him in those Places where Judgement was shewn in such deviating,but where the Want of Judgement appeared in it. I shall have occasion to touch this Subject a little elsewhere; though I hope what I have said here, is enough to prove that justCriticismsare not the Productions of Ignorance and Envy, as theSpectatorintimates; but that they are, on the contrary, useful and necessary to be a Check on the greatest Genius's, who want the Rein much more than the Spur; and what, in a few Years, would become of all good Writing, if those great Genius's could impose their very Blemishes on the World for the most shining Beauties?

TheSpectatorgives us another Mark, by which we may discover a Critick, who has neither Taste nor Learning, and that is,He seldom ventures to praise any Passage in an Author, which has not been before received and applauded by the Publick. If this Remark had been infallible and universal, it must have deprived theSpectatorhimself of the two greatest Beauties in all his Quotations out ofMiltonwhich are in every one's Mouth. The One in the sublime Kind in the Speech to theSun.

Oh then, that with surpassing Glory crown'd,Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the GodOf this new World.—

The Other in the tender Kind.AdamtoEve.

Her Hand soft touching whisper'd thus, AwakeMy Fairest, my espous'd, my best belov'd,Heavens last, best Gift, my ever new Delight;Awake.

which had before been a thousand Times repeated as the Perfection ofEnglishPoetry, in their several Kinds. And the Author, who shall have occasion to quote them as such after theSpectator, will not discover his Want of Taste or Learning by it. Very just is his Observation,A true Critick ought to dwell rather upon Excellencies than Imperfections, &c.But as this has Relation chiefly to those Compositions which require Genius, Judgement and Eloquence; and consequently, cannot relate to Mr.Echard's History ofEngland, we shall now say no more of it.

That I may not be guilty of the Fault I blame in others, the neglecting of Beauties, and falling unmercifully uponthe Blemishes of Authors. I must sincerely acknowledge, that it was not for Want of Will, that I did not mention what is beautiful in our Historian, but for Want of Opportunity. What Part of his Performance should I have applauded! Is it theDesign! The Author does not himself pretend, that it is regular, if byDesigninHistory, we are to understand thePlanas inPoetry: He will not deny, but that his Method is too much diversified, and too confused; sometimes it isGeneral History, sometimesAnnals, sometimes aDiary, sometimesBiography; all which he seems to think he has sufficiently provided against, by dividing the whole Work intoSections, and putting Pales between his Paragraphs. This Confusion will be easily pardoned by his Readers, there being hardly one in a Thousand that knows the Difference betweenBiographyandHistory, or between anAnnalistand anHistorian; or who does not takeBuck'sRichardIII, orCambden's QueenElizabeth, to be as much of the historical Kind, asSamuel Daniel's History ofEngland, which is the onlyEnglishHistory that has the least Appearance of Uniformity and Regularity of Design.

Ne Sutor ultra Crepidam, is in nothing a more necessary Maxim, than in the Productions of the Mind. It is not because a Man can write a Sonnet, an Elegy, nay, an Ode, or a Dramatick Poem, that therefore he can succeed in Epick; though we inEnglandare apt to confound all Sorts of Poetry and Poets, and to think that there is but one and the same Genius necessary for all of them. Thus it is, that you often hear the Question in Company, which is the best Poet,VirgilorHorace,MiltonorWaller,DrydenorWycherley,CongreveorRow. It is the same Thing in History: If a Man is able to abridge a Dictionary, to collect and compile Memoirs; in a Word, if he can put a Tale together, he is immediately an Historian, though Story-telling and History are as different as aMadrigaland a PindarickOde.

History is designed to instruct Mankind by Example, to shew what Men were by what they did, and from particular Instances to form general Lessons in all the various Stations of Life; and our Historian has so far a just Conception of its Dignity and Use, that he speaks of his own Performance as if he had formed a regular noble Design, with a regular and noble View, and executed it withequal Beauty and Perfection. Very great Talents are requisite to succeed in it, especially that of Judgement, to relate only what is worth relating, and to make proper Reflections upon Events for the Instruction of the Reader.Nothing is more necessary for an Historian, saysPere Rapin,than Judgement: Nothing requires so much Sense, so much Reason, so much Wit, so much Wisdom, and other good Qualities, as History, to succeed in writing it; and above all,Un Heureux Naturel, a happy Genius, which endowed with all these Qualifications, will not do without,Un Grand Commerce du Monde, a great Knowledge of the World.Pere Bouhours, whom Mr.Addisonthought the most judicious and penetrating of all theFrenchCriticks, has an admirable Remark on the Reflections of Historians, in hisManiere de bien penser. TheHistorian ought to shine most in his Reflections: Nothing is so irregular as to reflect falsely on Events that are true. He mentions a pleasant Instance of aFrenchPriest, who said in a Sermon,The Heart of Man being of a triangular Figure, and the World of a round one; It is plain, that all worldly Greatness cannot fill the Heart of Man. We have been told a thousand Times, that thePresbyterianshad a Quarrel with KingCharlesthe First, and that those who had a Quarrel with him, took him and cut off his Head. The Fact is true as to the Quarrel, but nothing can be more false, than that thePresbyteriansbeheaded him. The Fact is true, that the Act of Toleration put a Stop to the Persecuting of Dissenters; but the Reflection from it,That the Church was in Danger, is false. If I would rifle theGrand Rebellion, and Mr.Echard's History, I might have the Honour of being Author of a Folio too, by taking from them Examples of this Kind; and I cannot but think, if the Archdeacon had duely weighed the Difficulties inseparable from his Undertaking, the indispensable Duty of Sincerity and Truth, and the great Talents necessary for an Historian, he would have transferred the Work to another, not a Dealer in Records only, from whom one can expect nothing but the naked Facts without Form or Order, without Ornament, or even cloathing; very proper for Evidence in Tryals at Law, but too rude and unpolished for the Beauty and Elegance of History: Yet I am satisfied, there is not one Man in a Thousand inEngland, but thinks there are no Writers so fit to make Historians as your Record Keepers and Library Keepers, who are just as necessary in such Work as Masons and Carpenters are in Architecture, and no more in Comparison with the Architect, than theAxeor theChisselare in Comparison with them.An excellent Historian, says Mons.Pellisson, Pref. toSar.ought to have a general Knowledge of the World and of Affairs, and a subtle and penetrating Wit, to distinguish the true Causes of humane Actions, from the Pretexts and Colours which are given them. Thus our Historian should have distinguish'd ArchbishopLaud's natural Pride and Severity, from that Piety and Zeal which are thePretexts and Coloursthat are given them. He should also have distinguish'd the Pique and Partiality in the Grand Rebellion from Truth and Sincerity, which are the Pretexts and Colours. Again,

Tacitus, said he, wroteSine studio Partium & Ira; if the same may be said of the two Historians in Question, I have done them much Wrong. The late Earl ofShaftsbury, in his Letter ofEnthusiasm, has this Expression:We have few modern Writers, who, likeXenophonorCicero, can write their own Commentaries, and the raw Memoir Writings, and uninformed Pieces of modern Statesmen full of their own interested and private Views, will, in another Age, be of little Service to support their Memory or Name, since already the World begins to sicken with them.

It is somewhat strange, that Mr.Echardshould not be so well acquainted with the Weakness of the vulgar Humour inEngland, as a Foreigner; who was so sensible of the Peoples Fondness to hear Stories, that he excuses those of a better Taste amongst them, who cannot relish such as relate to Ghosts, Devils, Prophecies, and the like, with which the Archdeacon's History abounds. The Author of theParis Journal des Sçavans, speaking ofEnglishHistory Writers, and their bringing in Prophecies and strange Stories, says,Granting it to be true, it is not so much to be attributed to their Want of Skill, as to their Compliance with the Humour of the People, that attend too much to Prophecies, and are too much affected with Tales; which Humour our Historian has rather indulged than discountenanced, and it must surely be for Want of Judgement, after the indulging them in it, had been so much exploded. TheFrenchHistorianMaimbourgparticipates of the same Character, and his Zeal for the Church, could not procure him a better one abroad, than what was given him inItaly, that he was among Historians, whatMomusis among the Gods,only to tell Tales; with which the Vulgar are as well contented, as with Relations that are truly historical. But we should be as cautious of reading such Histories, asMenagetells us he was of readingMorreri's, for Fear we should remember them.Collierknew better thanMenage, and therefore translatedMorreri's three Folio's intoEnglish, as a rich Store for the Memories of his Countrymen.

Having so little Reason to commend the Historian for hisDesign, I should make him amends in the Sentiments, if there was the least Room for it. It is true, in History, if the Facts are fairly related, the Sentiments must be brought along with them, and the Author is not accountable for them as in Poetry: But if the Sentiments do not correspond with the Facts; if Meekness and Holiness are seated to give Judgement in theHigh CommissionandStar ChamberCourts; if Piety is mounted on Horseback with the Lord High Treasurer's Staff in her Hand; if the most noble Characters are ascribed to Persons engaged in the most unjustifiable Actions, we may depend upon it, these Persons, either did not think, or did not act as they are represented, and consequently that the History is false and vicious: The Historians Reflections upon Events are entirely his own, and we shall see in the following Pages, how wise and how weighty they are: But as they bear all on one Side, like an ill ballasted Ship, it is much, if in the Course of a few Years, it does not overset the History.

There is no greater Vice in Historians, than poor and common Reflections. The Poverty of the Archdeacon's appears in theAfter Wit, which makes a good Part of them; and theVulgarisms, which will be further explain'd as Occasions often.

Indeed we do not enough acquaint ourselves inEngland, with what FatherBouhourscalls theManner of Right Thinking, in his Treatise before mentioned; whichFontenellerecommends as one of the most agreeable and useful Books in theFrenchTongue: We have nothing like itinEnglish, or in any other Language antient or modern, Wit and Humour, Wit and good Sense, Wit and Wisdom, Wit and Reason, Wit and Craft; nay, Wit and Philosophy, are with us almost the same things. How often have I heard it said, there is a great Deal of Wit inHomer, a great Deal of Humour inVirgil. We take all Thoughts in the Gross; the Sublime, the Grand, the Noble, the Pretty, the Agreeable, the Fine, the Delicate, are all alike witty with us; and the Vulgar are ignorant of all other Distinction, but that of aJestand aBull. SirSamuel Garth, who was extreamly fond of FatherBouhours's Treatise, did often wish that it was translated, and the Examples theFrenchCritick takes fromGreek,Latin,Italian,SpanishandFrenchAuthors, not to be turned intoEnglish, butEnglishExamples to be put instead of them. I am satisfied nothing would be of more Advantage towards the Refinement of our Manner, both of Thinking and Writing. I know the Undertaking would be very difficult, and the greatest Part of the Difficulty be to preserve the Spirit and Turn of Thought in theEnglishExamples, to make it answer FatherBouhours's Remarks. Who is there, that does not take a sublime Thought, a noble Thought, a grand Thought, to be synonymous Terms, though they differ from one another, almost as much as from the Agreeable and the Delicate. I am my self afraid to attempt any Thing like Examples of Kinds, and probably my Conceptions of them may be wrong; what they are I shall offer them to the Reader, with the Caution and Submission which becomes me in a Matter so intricate and nice.

The first Example of theSublimeis so well known, that if there was any other so good in any other Author, I should not have made use of it. It is in the 7th Chapter ofLonginus. We will not borrow it fromBoileau, because we are forbidden by theSpectatorto make Use of a Quotation which has been made Use of before. Dr.Gregory, in the Preface to his Works, printed about sixty Years ago, at what TimeBoileauhad not thought of translatingLonginus, writes thus:Dionysius Longinus, one that knew what belonged to Expression; having first of all cast a Scorn upon hisHomer. The Translator does not dwell much upon this,says Τῶν Ιουδαιων θεσμοθέτης that the Law-givers of the Jews, Ὀυχ ὁ τυχὼν ἀνὴρ, no ordinary Man, was in the Right when he brought in his God, saying, Γενέσθω φῶς, καὶ ἐγενετο

Let there be Light,And there was Light.

But least it may be said, theSpectatorhas entered a Caveat against my using any Quotation, which he or any one else had used, I shall add another Instance of the Sublime taken out of the same divine Book the Bible, that has not been blown upon:

He spake,And it was:He commanded,And it stood firm.

The wholePsalmxxxiiid is full of theSublime:

By the Word of the Lord were the Mountains made,And all the Host of them by the Breath of his Mouth.

What in all profane Learning comes up to theSublimein the xxxviiith Chapter ofJob, where the Almighty is introduced speaking to him out of the Whirlwind:

Gird up thy Loins like a Man, for I will demand of thee.Where wast thou when I laid the Foundations of the Earth?Declare, If thou hast Understanding.Who laid the Measures thereof?Who hath stretched the Line upon it?Whereupon are the Foundations thereof fastened?or,Who laid the Corner Stone?When the Morning Stars sang, and the Sons of God shouted for Joy!

Happily imitated byMilton.

————Up he rode,Follow'd with Acclamations, and the SoundSymphonious of ten thousand Harps, that tunedAngelick Harmonies, the Earth, the AirResounding. Thou rememberest; for thou heardestThe Heavens, and all the Constellations ring:The Planets in their Stations listening stood,While the bright Pomp ascended jubilant.Open ye everlasting Gates: They sung,Open ye Heavens, your living Doors; Let inThe great Creator from his Work returnedMagnificent, his Six Days Work, a World.

Of the sublime Kind is the Ode in theSpectator, No465; being a Paraphrase on that of thePsalmist.The Heavens declare:

The spacious Firmament on high,With all the blue Ethereal Sky;And spangled Heavens, a shining Frame,Their great Original proclaim.

Some very scrupulous Persons may be apt to object against the third Line as an Anteclimax, thespangled Heavenshaving much more Lustre thanshining Frame. The followingStanzais extreamly sublime:

What tho' in solemn Silence allMove round the dark terrestrial Ball;What tho', nor real Voice, nor SoundAmid their radiant Orbs be found,In Reason's Ear they all rejoice,And utter forth a glorious Voice;For ever singing as they shine,The Hand that made me is divine.

I cannot omit here some Lines of Mr.Waller's upon the Holy Scriptures, where there is more of the Sublime than in all other Books whatsoever.

TheGræcianMuse has all their gods surviv'd,NorJoveat us, norPhœbusis arriv'd;Frail Deities, which first the Poets made,And then invok'd to give their Fancies Aid.Yet, if they still divert us with their Rage,What may be hop'd for in a better Age,When not fromHelicon's imagin'd Spring,But sacred Writ we borrow what we sing?This with the Fabrick of the World begunElder than Light, and shall out-last the Sun.

There are not ten finer Verses together in Mr.Waller's Poems, yet he wrote them when he was above fourscore Years old.

Are not these two Verses of a Manuscript Poem in the sublime Kind? the young Author, a Lad atEatonSchool, wrote it on the Birth of his Royal Highness the Duke ofCumberland:

Gods how he springs like Whirlwinds charg'd with Fire,He lays War waste, and Makes the World retire.

And these Verses out ofTamerlane:

The dreadful Business of the War is over,And Slaughter, that from yester Morn till Even,With Gyant Steps past striding o'er the FieldBesmear'd, and horrid with the Blood of Nations,Now weary sits among the mangled Heaps,And slumbers o'er her Prey.

I cou'd easily fill many Volumes of Quotations out of the Antients and Moderns, in all the Kinds of Thinking; but as I am doubtful of the Success of my Attempt, so the Fewer I insert, the Less I shall offend.

TheFrenchperhaps have been a little too scrupulous and exact in dividing theNobleand theGrandin the Manner of Thinking. However, as to the Noble, let us see whether this Passage borrow'd of Scripture byMilton, will not serve for an Instance:

All Night he will pursue, but his Approach,Darkness defends between till Morning Watch,Then thro' the fiery Pillar and the Cloud,God looking forth will trouble all his Host,And craze their Chariot Wheels; when, by Command,Mosesonce more, his potent Rod erectsOver the Sea: The Sea his Rod obeysOn their embattled Ranks, the Waves return,And overwhelm their War.

There would be no End of it, if one should go about to enumerate such Instances as these out ofMilton. His Poem ofParadise lostis so full of them, that almost out of one Book one might collect as many such noble Passages, as out of all theÆneis; and I would add theIliastoo, if I understoodGreekhalf so well as the Translator.

Among the many Sketches of the glorious Character of KingWilliamin that ofTamerlane, Mr.Rowhas this, which I take to be a very noble Image:

No Lust of Rule, the common Vice of Kings;No furious Zeal inspir'd by hot-brain'd Priests:Ill hid beneath Religions specious Name,E'er drew his temp'rate Courage to the Field.But to redress an injur'd Peoples Wrongs,To save the weak One from the strong OppressourIs all his End of War; and when he drawsThe Sword to punish, like relenting Heav'n,He seems unwilling to deface Mankind.

The Opposition in the following Passage, carries with it its own Application:

————As oft regardlessOf plighted Faith, with most unkingly BasenessWithout a War proclaim'd, or Cause pretended,He has t'ane Advantage of their absent ArmsTo waste with Sword and Fire their fruitful Fields,Like some accursed Fiend, who 'scap'd from Hell,Poisons the balmy Air thro' which he flies,He blasts the bearded Corn, and loaded Branches,The lab'ring Hind's best Hopes, and marks his Way with Ruin.

Is there not something noble in what Mr.Wallersays to the Duke ofMonmouth, at his Return from suppressing a Rebellion inScotland:

But seeing Envy like the Sun does beat,With scorching Rays, on all that's high and great,This, ill requitedMonmouth, is the BoughThe Muses send to shade thy conqu'ring Brow;Lampoons like Squibs may make a present Blaze,But Time and Thunder pay Respect to Bays.

I hope I may make Use of Part of Mr.Addison's Translation of theJustum & TenacemofHorace. The Translator having done me the Honour to render it inEnglishat my Request:

The Man resolv'd and steady to his Trust,Inflexible to Ill, and obstinately just;May the rude Rabble's Insolence despiseTheir senseless Clamours, and tumultuous Cries.The Tyrant's Fierceness he beguiles.And the stern Brow, and the harsh Voice defies,And with superiour Greatness smiles.

Again,

Should the whole Frame of Nature round him breakIn Ruin and Confusion hurl'd,He unconcern'd would hear the mighty Crack,And stand secure amidst a falling World.Si fractus illabatur Orbis,Impavidum ferient Ruinæ.

Should the whole Frame of Nature round him breakIn Ruin and Confusion hurl'd,He unconcern'd would hear the mighty Crack,And stand secure amidst a falling World.

Si fractus illabatur Orbis,Impavidum ferient Ruinæ.

Is not this noble Thought the Original of that which ends the notedSiloloquyofCato:

The Soul secure in his Resistance smilesAt the drawn Dagger, and defies its Point:The Stars shall fade away, the Sun himselfGrow dim with Age, and Nature sink in Years?But thou shalt flourish in immortal Youth,Unhurt amidst the War of Elements,The Wrecks of Matter, and the Crush of Worlds.

The two Verses quoted out ofHorace:

Si fractus, &c.

are not so well imitated by the Gentleman that turnedCato'sSiloloquyintoLatin, as to defy a Comparison;

Orbesque fractis ingerentur orbibusIllæsa tu sedebis extra fragmina

But not to be always running back to the Antients, let us have Recourse to the Moderns, particularlyQuillet, and we shall find something in this Kind of Thinking.Tons. Callip.p. 72.

As far as thou may'st Nature's Depths exploreStill inexhaustible, thou find'st the Store;Thee let the Order she observes suffice,What Laws controul our Earth, and what the Skies.Mark how a thousand starry Orbs on highAround the Void with equal Motion fly;Mark how the huge Machine one Order keeps,And how the Sun th' Etherial Champian sweeps.Both Earth and Air with genial Heat he warms,Gives ev'ry Grace, and every Beauty forms;Whether around the lazy Globe he rolls.Or Earth is whirl'd about him on her Poles;God is the Mover, God the living Soul,That made, that acts, that animates the Whole.Hence with thy Atoms, Epicurus; hence:Was all this wond'rous Frame the Sport of Chance!Of Solids, they, 'tis true, the Matter make,Can Matter from itself its Figure take!Can the bright Order in the World we see,The blind Effect of wanton Fortune be!Did jumbling Atoms form the various KindOf Beings, or did one Almighty Mind?Guess what you will, you must at last resortTo a first Cause, and not to Chance's Sport.This Cause is God————

I must not omit thisNobleThought ofMilton's:

Then crown'd, again their golden Harps, they tookHarps ever tun'd, that glitt'ring by their SideLike Quivers hung, and with Preamble sweetOf charming Symphony, they introduceThe sacred Song, and waken Raptures high:No one exempt, no Voice but well cou'd joynMelodious Part, such Concord is in Heav'n.

Having mention'd so many noble Thoughts in Verse, I shall conclude this Article, with a very plain but very noble one in Prose, the Saying ofLeonidastoXerxes:If you had not been too powerful and too happy, you might have been an honest Man.

Tho' it is a very hard Matter to distinguish theGrandfrom theNoblein the Manner of Thinking, yet we shall endeavour it by the following Examples; and sure nothing can be moreGrand, than the Saying ofAlexander the Great, to the Greatest of his CaptainsParmenio,Darius, King ofPersia, having offer'd theMacedonianMonarch halfAsiain Marriage with his DaughterStatira.As for me, saysParmenio,if I wereAlexander, I would accept of these Offers:And so would I, reply'd that Prince,If I wereParmenio.But why should we be always dealing inHeroicks, and running back into Antiquity to borrow Example from the Conquerors of the World. Why may not we propose one in the lowest Life, whichwill at the same Time prove, that the Excellencies of both Thought and Expression are in Nature, and not in the Rules of Art only. A Sergeant of the Guards,What a terrible Fall is this, fromAlexander the Great, to a Sergeant of the Guards!who was in the last Attack upon the Castle ofNamurin KingWilliam's War, after he had fir'd his Grenades at the Enemy behind the Palisadoes, leapt over them, and had been slaughter'd, had not aFrenchOfficer prevented it. The Sergeant being a Prisoner in the Castle was sent for by the Governour CountGuiscard, and the Mareschalde Boufflers. The Latter demanding how he durst attempt to leap the Palisadoes with the Enemy behind them, when he could hardly have done it had there been none?Perhaps, Sir, I might not,reply'd the braveEnglishSoldier,but there is nothing too difficult for me to come at my Enemy.A Saying worthy ofAlexanderorCæsar, ofMarlboroughorEugene.

I have seen something like these Verses of Mr.Waller's, quoted as in the grand Way of Thinking:

GreatMarocould no greater Tempest feign,When the loud Winds usurping on the Main,For angryJunolabour'd to destroyThe hated Relicks of confoundedTroy.

But the Image, as grand as it is, does not seem to be so noble as the Instances before-mentioned; there is too much Terrour in it to participate of that Kind of Thought, which is not confident with what is terrible.

I cannot help thinking there is somethingGrandin thisEpitaph:

Underneath this Marble Hearse,Lies the Subject of all Verse;Sidney's Sister,Pembroke's Mother,Death 'ere thou hast kill'd another,Fair and learn'd, and good as she,Time shall throw a Dart at thee.

To descend to the lower Kinds, we meet with what FatherBouhourscallsPensées Jolliéespretty Thoughts; and we have of that Kind too inEnglish, perhaps to a greater Degree of Excellence, than is to be found in any other Language; especially those Verses in theSpectator,which are said there to be Originals, as indeed they are, and inimitable. I question whether a Poet might not as easily imitateMiltonorButler. There are tenStanza's, and they all of a like pretty, and natural Turn with the

IIIdStanza.The Fountain that wont to run sweetly along,And dance to soft Murmurs the Pebbles among;Thou know'st little Cupid, ifPhœbewas there,'Twere Pleasure to look at, 'twere Musick to hear:But now she is absent I walk by its Side,And still as it murmurs do nothing but chide;Must you be so chearful, while I go in Pain,Peace there with your Bubbling, and hear me complain.

IIIdStanza.

The Fountain that wont to run sweetly along,And dance to soft Murmurs the Pebbles among;Thou know'st little Cupid, ifPhœbewas there,'Twere Pleasure to look at, 'twere Musick to hear:But now she is absent I walk by its Side,And still as it murmurs do nothing but chide;Must you be so chearful, while I go in Pain,Peace there with your Bubbling, and hear me complain.

How theFrenchmay compare with us, as to thisprettyManner, let us see by a Comparison.Menagesays, that thisTriolet, as he calls it, a Sort of low Poetry where one or two Verses are repeated three Times, was the King ofTriolet's, and written by the famous Mons.Ranchin:

Le premier Jour de MayFut le plus Heureux de ma Vie,Le beau Design que je formayLe premier Jour de May.The first Day of the Month ofMayWas the Happiest of my Life,Ah the fair Design I form'dThe first Day if the Month ofMay.Then saw you, then I lov'd,If you like this fair Design,The first Day of the Month ofMayWas the Happiest of my Life.

Le premier Jour de MayFut le plus Heureux de ma Vie,Le beau Design que je formayLe premier Jour de May.

The first Day of the Month ofMayWas the Happiest of my Life,Ah the fair Design I form'dThe first Day if the Month ofMay.Then saw you, then I lov'd,If you like this fair Design,The first Day of the Month ofMayWas the Happiest of my Life.

Now let us see what anEnglishPoet has said on the First ofMay; and tho' there is in it hardly any Thing but Words, and those Words rustick to Affectation; yet they arePrettinessitself compared to Mons.Ranchin's Guardian, No124:

I.Oh the charming Month ofMay,Oh the charming Month ofMay,When the Breezes fan theTreeses,Full of Blossoms fresh and gay.II.Oh what Joys our Prospects yield!Charming Joys our Prospects yield!In a new Livery,&c.III.Oh how fresh the Morning Air!Charming fresh the Morning Air!&c.

Oh the charming Month ofMay,Oh the charming Month ofMay,When the Breezes fan theTreeses,Full of Blossoms fresh and gay.

II.

Oh what Joys our Prospects yield!Charming Joys our Prospects yield!In a new Livery,&c.

III.

Oh how fresh the Morning Air!Charming fresh the Morning Air!&c.

Tho' there is little Meaning here, yet the Dancing of the Words and the Sprightliness of the Images, make it a prettier Lyrick than ourItalianOpera's can produce.

According to my Conception nothing can be prettier than this Thought ofBuchanan.

Ilia mihi semper presenti duraNeæra;Me, quoties absum, semper abesse dolet;Non desiderio, nostro non mœret Amore,Sed se non nostro posse Dolore frui.Cruel, when I am present, she appears;As often as I'm absent she's in Tears:Not thatNeærawishes my Return,To see me love her, but to see me mourn.

Ilia mihi semper presenti duraNeæra;Me, quoties absum, semper abesse dolet;Non desiderio, nostro non mœret Amore,Sed se non nostro posse Dolore frui.

Cruel, when I am present, she appears;As often as I'm absent she's in Tears:Not thatNeærawishes my Return,To see me love her, but to see me mourn.

These Verses of Mr.Wallerare, methinks, as pretty as they are gallant:

Phillis, why should we delayPleasures shorter than the Day!Cou'd we, which we never can,Stretch our Lives beyond their Span;Beauty like a Shadow flies,And our Youth before us dies.Or would Youth and Beauty stay,Love hath Wings, and will away.Love hath swifter Wings than Time,&c.

Notice has been taken of the Prettiness of these Verses inDryden's Fable of theCockand theFox.

TheCockspeaks to his Wife DamePartlet:

————See my DearHow lavish Nature hath adorn'd the Year;How the pale Primrose and the Violet spring,And Birds essay their Throats, disus'd to sing:All these are ours, and I with Pleasure seeMan strutting on two Legs, and aping me.

MadamDaciertakes Notice of a very pretty Circumstance inSappho's Hymn toVenus, translated intoLatinbyCatullus, and intoEnglishby Mr.Philips.

Thou once didst leave AlmightyJove,And all the golden Roofs above:The Carre thy wanton Sparrows drew,Hov'ring in Air, they lightly flew.As to my Bow'r, they wing'd their WayI saw their quiv'ring Pinions play:The Birds dismist, while you remain,Bore back their empty Carre again.

The Circumstance that renders it so pretty, according to theCritical Lady, isVenus's dismissing her Sparrows and her Carre, and shewing she did not intend to makeSapphoa Court-Visit, but to dwell with her some Time. There's another Ode ofSappho, which is preserved inLonginus, and translated byBoileau. It is in the sublime Kind, and shews the Violence of Love.

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