Chapter 7

[152]Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musæ,Quarum sacra fero, ingenti perculsus amore,Accipiant, cœlique vias & sidera monstrent,&c.Sin has ne possim naturæ accedere partes,Frigidus obstiterit circum præcordia sanguis;Rura mihi, & rigui placeant in vallibus amnes,Flumina amem, silvasque inglorius.Me may the Muses, whose vow'd Priest I am,Smit With strong Passion for their sacred Song,Dear above all to me, accept; and teachThe heav'nly Roads, the Motions of the Stars,&c.But if the colder BloodAbout my Heart forbid me to approachSo near to Nature, may the rural Fields,And Streams obscure, which glide along the Vales,Delight me; Groves and Rivers may I love.

Me may the Muses, whose vow'd Priest I am,Smit With strong Passion for their sacred Song,Dear above all to me, accept; and teachThe heav'nly Roads, the Motions of the Stars,&c.But if the colder BloodAbout my Heart forbid me to approachSo near to Nature, may the rural Fields,And Streams obscure, which glide along the Vales,Delight me; Groves and Rivers may I love.

He shews us he is abundantly endow'd with that Strength of Imagination he pretends to want, and at the same Time gives us a Specimen of it.

The same must be said of that Fire and Energy in Poetry, whichLonginuscalls[153]το σφοδρον, και ενθουσιαστικον παθοϛ,viz.that it is owing to the Indulgence of Nature, and to be regulated only, not acquir'd by Precept. All we can do, is to produce some Examples of it, and make a few Observations upon them. The first shall be that ofVirgil, in the sixthÆneis, where the Poet displays the sacred Rage of the Sibyl, and his own:

[154]Ventum erat ad limen; cum virgo, poscere fataTempus, ait: Deus, ecce! Deus. Cui talia fantiAnte fores subito non vultus, non color unus,Non comptæ mansere comæ; sed pectus anhelum,Et rabie fera corda tument; majorque videri,Nec mortale sonans; afflata est numine quandoJam propiore Dei. Cessas in vota, precesque,Tros, ait, Ænea? Cessas?And now they reach'dThe Portal: When the Virgin, 'Tis the TimeNow t' enquire the Doom of Fate; Behold,The God, the God, she cry'd. While thus she spoke,Before the Doors her Looks, her Colour chang'd,Sudden; her Hair in wild Confusion rose.Enthusiastic Fury heav'd her Breast,And throbbing Heart; more large her Form appear'd;Nor spoke the mortal Accents; when inspir'dBy the more present God. Dost thou delay,Trojan Æneas, thy Requests, and Vows?Dost thou delay? she cry'd.

And now they reach'dThe Portal: When the Virgin, 'Tis the TimeNow t' enquire the Doom of Fate; Behold,The God, the God, she cry'd. While thus she spoke,Before the Doors her Looks, her Colour chang'd,Sudden; her Hair in wild Confusion rose.Enthusiastic Fury heav'd her Breast,And throbbing Heart; more large her Form appear'd;Nor spoke the mortal Accents; when inspir'dBy the more present God. Dost thou delay,Trojan Æneas, thy Requests, and Vows?Dost thou delay? she cry'd.

And afterÆneashad ended his Supplication to her:

[155]At Phœbi nondum patiens immanis in antroBacchatur Vates, magnum si pectore possitExcussisse Deum; tanto magis ille fatigatOs rabidum, fera corda domans, fingitque premendo.But impatient in her GrotApollo's swelling Priestess wildly raves;Reluctant, lab'ring from her Breast to heaveTh' incumbent God: So much the more he curbsHer foamy Mouth, subdues her madding Heart,And pressing forms her.

[155]At Phœbi nondum patiens immanis in antroBacchatur Vates, magnum si pectore possitExcussisse Deum; tanto magis ille fatigatOs rabidum, fera corda domans, fingitque premendo.

But impatient in her GrotApollo's swelling Priestess wildly raves;Reluctant, lab'ring from her Breast to heaveTh' incumbent God: So much the more he curbsHer foamy Mouth, subdues her madding Heart,And pressing forms her.

And lastly, at the End of the Sibyl's Answer:

[156]Talibus ex adyto dictis Cumæa SibyllaHorrendas canit ambages, antroque remugit,Obscuris vera involvens: ea fræna furentiConcutit, & stimulos sub pectore vertit Apollo.Thus theCumæanSibyl, from her Shrine,Sings mystic Verse; and bellows in her Cave,Involving Truth in Darkness: As she foams,Apolloshakes the Reins, and goads her Breast.

[156]Talibus ex adyto dictis Cumæa SibyllaHorrendas canit ambages, antroque remugit,Obscuris vera involvens: ea fræna furentiConcutit, & stimulos sub pectore vertit Apollo.

Thus theCumæanSibyl, from her Shrine,Sings mystic Verse; and bellows in her Cave,Involving Truth in Darkness: As she foams,Apolloshakes the Reins, and goads her Breast.

This is one Species of poeticPathos, or Enthusiasm;viz.which consists in the Marvellous, and raises Admiration, by impressing upon the Mind something great, unusual, and portentous, and is styled by theGreeksὁρμη, by theLatinsImpetus, orfuror poeticus. There are other Kinds of it, which exciteGrief, Pity, Terror, and work upon the other Passions. If theSpiritof the Poet is most admir'd in the former, the Reader's is at least as much affected by the latter. And since it is the great Art of Poetry to work upon the Passions, it may not be improper to dwell a little upon this Branch of it. How sweet is that Complaint ofPhyllistoDemophoon, inOvid? How wonderfully adapted to move Compassion?

[157]Credidimus blandis, quorum tibi copia, verbis;Credidimus generi, nominibusque tuis;Credidimus lacrimis: an & hæ simulare docentur?Hæ quoque habent artes; quaque jubentur, eunt.Diis quoque credidimus, quo jam tot pignora nobis?Parte satis potui qualibet inde capi.On thy soft Speeches I with Rapture hung,The boundless Treasures of thy melting Tongue.Thy Name I credited, thy Birth, thy Line:Art thou by Falsehood Man, by Birth divine?Thy Tears resistless! do they flow by Art,Th'obedient Tides of Nature, and the Heart!These have their Frauds, and find the subtle Path,As you direct, to steal a Lover's Faith.The Gods, too, I believ'd, by whom you swore;Each Motive was too much, what needed more?

On thy soft Speeches I with Rapture hung,The boundless Treasures of thy melting Tongue.Thy Name I credited, thy Birth, thy Line:Art thou by Falsehood Man, by Birth divine?Thy Tears resistless! do they flow by Art,Th'obedient Tides of Nature, and the Heart!These have their Frauds, and find the subtle Path,As you direct, to steal a Lover's Faith.The Gods, too, I believ'd, by whom you swore;Each Motive was too much, what needed more?

No one was a greater Master of this Secret thanOvid; none understood Nature more than he, or express'd her various Conflicts better: And he has left us abundance of Instances of it in hisEpistlesandMetamorphoses. To pass over others, I shall produce only that Passage where he describes the Passion ofMedeaforJason:

[158]Concipit interea validos Æetias ignes:Et luctata diu, postquam ratione furoremVincere non potuit; Frustra, Medea, repugnas,Nescio quis deus obstat, ait; mirumque, nisi hoc est,Aut aliquod certe simile huic, quod amare vocatur.Nam cur jussa patris nimium mihi dura videntur?Sunt quoque dura nimis: cur, quem modo denique vidi,Ne pereat timeo? Quæ tanti causa timoris?Execute virgineo conceptas pectore flammas,Si potes, infelix; si possem, sanior essem.Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque cupido,Mens aliud suadet; video meliora, proboque,Deteriora sequor.Mean while,Medea, seiz'd with fierce Desire,By Reason strives to quench the raging Fire;But strives in vain: Some God, she said, withstands,And Reason's baffled Counsel countermands.What unseen Pow'r does this Disorder move?'Tis Love—at least 'tis like what Men call Love.Else wherefore should the King's Commands appearTo me too hard? But so, indeed, they are.Why should I for a Stranger fear, lest he}Should perish, whom I did but lately see;}His Death, or Safety, what are they to me?}Wretch from thy Virgin Breast this Flame expel,And soon—Oh! cou'd I, all wou'd then be well!But Love, resistless Love, my Soul invades;Discretion this, Affection that persuades.I see the right, and I approve it, too;Condemn the wrong—and yet the wrong pursue.TateandStonestreet.

Mean while,Medea, seiz'd with fierce Desire,By Reason strives to quench the raging Fire;But strives in vain: Some God, she said, withstands,And Reason's baffled Counsel countermands.What unseen Pow'r does this Disorder move?'Tis Love—at least 'tis like what Men call Love.Else wherefore should the King's Commands appearTo me too hard? But so, indeed, they are.Why should I for a Stranger fear, lest he}Should perish, whom I did but lately see;}His Death, or Safety, what are they to me?}Wretch from thy Virgin Breast this Flame expel,And soon—Oh! cou'd I, all wou'd then be well!But Love, resistless Love, my Soul invades;Discretion this, Affection that persuades.I see the right, and I approve it, too;Condemn the wrong—and yet the wrong pursue.TateandStonestreet.

After this, the Poet wonderfully describes the dubious Strife between Love and Shame, Reason and Affection, as he does in many other Places. I know, very well, that Objections have been rais'd against this very Passage I have cited, and thatOvidiscompar'd withApollonius RhodiusandVirgil, even upon these Topics, much to his Disadvantage. I can't deny but that when he does best, he often falls short of that Sublimity in which he was naturally deficient; that when he shines most, he generally abounds with an unhappy Luxuriancy of Thought, disagreeable Repetitions, unseasonable and absurd Conceits; that his Style is loose and incorrect: However, let him have his due Praise, let him be allow'd to draw the Out-lines of Nature truly, tho' he does not keep accurately to every Feature of her.

But if you want Perfection upon this Head, consultVirgil, who, as he excels in all other Kinds of Writing, so, especially, in describing and moving the Passions, in the fourthÆneisespecially; which may with Justice be styled anEpic Tragedy. And since no Age, Nation, or Language, has yet produced a Work that lays open so wonderfully the various Tumults of the Soul; I shall perform, perhaps, no disagreeable Office, if I lay before you an Epitome of this Part of it, so far as relates to the Passions.

In the Beginning, the unfortunate Queen, in Conversation with her Sister, thus discovers the Effects ofLove:

[159]Anna soror, quæ me suspensam insomnia terrent?Quis novus hic nostris successit sedibus hospes?Quam sese ore ferens! quam forti pectore, & armis!What Dreams, my dearestAnna, discomposeMy Rest? What wond'rous Stranger at our CourtIt here arriv'd! how God-like he appears!In Mien how graceful! and how brave in Arms!

[159]Anna soror, quæ me suspensam insomnia terrent?Quis novus hic nostris successit sedibus hospes?Quam sese ore ferens! quam forti pectore, & armis!

What Dreams, my dearestAnna, discomposeMy Rest? What wond'rous Stranger at our CourtIt here arriv'd! how God-like he appears!In Mien how graceful! and how brave in Arms!

And a few Lines after:

[160]Anna (fatebor enim) miseri post fata SichæiConjugis, & sparsos fraterna cæde penates;Solus hic inflexit sensus, animumque labantemImpulit; agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ.My Sister, (for to thee I will discloseMy inmost Thoughts) since poorSichæusfell,And with his Blood, spilt by a Brother's Hand,Sprinkled our Household Gods; this only ManHas warp'd my Inclinations, and unfix'dMy stagg'ring Resolution: I perceiveThe Signs and Tokens of my former Flame.

[160]Anna (fatebor enim) miseri post fata SichæiConjugis, & sparsos fraterna cæde penates;Solus hic inflexit sensus, animumque labantemImpulit; agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ.

My Sister, (for to thee I will discloseMy inmost Thoughts) since poorSichæusfell,And with his Blood, spilt by a Brother's Hand,Sprinkled our Household Gods; this only ManHas warp'd my Inclinations, and unfix'dMy stagg'ring Resolution: I perceiveThe Signs and Tokens of my former Flame.

NowShame, on the other Hand, exerts its Power, and claims to be heard, in Opposition to Love:

[161]Sed mihi vel tellus, optem, prius ima dehiscat,Vel Pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras,Pallentes umbras Erebi, noctemque profundam;Ante, Pudor, quam te violem, aut tua jura resolvam:But may the yawning Earth devour me quick,OrJovewith Thunder strike me to the Shades,Pale Shades ofErebus, and Night profound;E'er, Modesty, I break thro' thy Restraints,Or violate thy Laws.

[161]Sed mihi vel tellus, optem, prius ima dehiscat,Vel Pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras,Pallentes umbras Erebi, noctemque profundam;Ante, Pudor, quam te violem, aut tua jura resolvam:

But may the yawning Earth devour me quick,OrJovewith Thunder strike me to the Shades,Pale Shades ofErebus, and Night profound;E'er, Modesty, I break thro' thy Restraints,Or violate thy Laws.

She thencomplainsofÆneas's concealing his Departure; sheexpostulateswith him of the Injury he intended her; and full, at the same Time, ofFearandGrief, she thus endeavours to work upon hisCompassion:

[162]Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide, tantumPosse nefas? tacitusque mea decedere terra?Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam,Nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido?&c.And could'st thou hope, Perfidious, to concealSo black a Crime? and silent leave my Coasts?Cannot my Love, nor thy once plighted Faith,NorDido's cruel, and untimely Death,Detain thee?

[162]Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide, tantumPosse nefas? tacitusque mea decedere terra?Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam,Nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido?&c.

And could'st thou hope, Perfidious, to concealSo black a Crime? and silent leave my Coasts?Cannot my Love, nor thy once plighted Faith,NorDido's cruel, and untimely Death,Detain thee?

But as soon as she hearsÆneasopenly declare his firm Resolution, from Tears and Intreaties she bursts out intoPassion,Rage, andPhrenzy:

[163]Talia dicentem jamdudum aversa tuetur,Huc illuc volvens oculos, totumque pererratLuminibus tacitis, & sic accensa profatur.Nec tibi Diva parens, generis nec Dardanus auctor,Perfide; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrensCaucasus, Hyrcanæque admorunt ubera tigres.Thus, while he spoke, she silently intent,Ey'd him averse, and roll'd her glaring BallsAround; from Head to Foot survey'd him o'er,Speechless a while; and thus her Rage reply'd:Nor art thou of a Goddess-mother born;Nor is thy Birth fromDardanusderiv'd,Perfidious Wretch: ButCaucasus, with RocksHorrid disclos'd thee from its flinty Sides,And fierceHyrcanianTygers gave thee Suck.

Thus, while he spoke, she silently intent,Ey'd him averse, and roll'd her glaring BallsAround; from Head to Foot survey'd him o'er,Speechless a while; and thus her Rage reply'd:Nor art thou of a Goddess-mother born;Nor is thy Birth fromDardanusderiv'd,Perfidious Wretch: ButCaucasus, with RocksHorrid disclos'd thee from its flinty Sides,And fierceHyrcanianTygers gave thee Suck.

Throughout the whole Speech (every Line of which is beautiful beyond all Comparison) she exclaims, interrogates, calls Gods and Men to witness, loads her Lover with Threats and Curses; in short, the Tempest of her Soul runs so high, as if it never more would know a Calm. What, then, saysDido, when she appears next?

[164]Improbe Amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis?Ire iterum in lacrimas, iterum tentare precando,Cogitur, & supplex animos submittere amori.Cruel Love,To what Extremes does not thy tyrant Pow'rUrge mortal Breasts? Again dissolv'd in Tears,Spight of her Rage and Pride, again she triesSuppliant Intreaties, and submissive bowsHer haughty Soul to Love.

[164]Improbe Amor, quid non mortalia pectora cogis?Ire iterum in lacrimas, iterum tentare precando,Cogitur, & supplex animos submittere amori.

Cruel Love,To what Extremes does not thy tyrant Pow'rUrge mortal Breasts? Again dissolv'd in Tears,Spight of her Rage and Pride, again she triesSuppliant Intreaties, and submissive bowsHer haughty Soul to Love.

After this, she implores, conjures her Sister to be her Mediator in this momentous Affair, and to convey toÆneasher softest Entreaties; than which, nothing can be more pathetic, and adapted to moveCompassion:

[165]Hunc ego si potui tantum sperare dolorem,Et perferre, soror, potero. Miseræ hoc tamen unumExequere, Anna, mihi; solam nam perfidus illeTe colere, arcanos animi tibi credere sensus;Sola viri molles aditus, & tempora nôras.I, soror; atque hostem supplex affare superbum.Could I have e'er expected such a BlowOf cruel Fate as this; my Soul could thenHave borne it: Yet this only Favour grantThy wretched Sister; for that faithless ManTo thee, alone, uncommon Rev'rence paid,Trusted his Secrets with thee; thou, alone,Didst know the soft Approaches to his Soul,And all the proper Seasons of Address:Go, Sister; and this Message suppliant bear.

Could I have e'er expected such a BlowOf cruel Fate as this; my Soul could thenHave borne it: Yet this only Favour grantThy wretched Sister; for that faithless ManTo thee, alone, uncommon Rev'rence paid,Trusted his Secrets with thee; thou, alone,Didst know the soft Approaches to his Soul,And all the proper Seasons of Address:Go, Sister; and this Message suppliant bear.

In the foregoing Speech she broke out into these Reproaches:

[166]Nusquam tuta fides: ejectum littore, egentem,Excepi, & regni demens in parte locavi;Amissam classem, socios à morte reduxi.Heu! furiis incensa feror,&c.True Faith is no where to be found. Him toss'dOn Shore, of all Things indigent, I hereReceiv'd, and made him Partner of my Throne:(Fool that I was) repair'd his shatter'd Fleet,And hospitably sav'd his Friends from Death.Furies distract me.

[166]Nusquam tuta fides: ejectum littore, egentem,Excepi, & regni demens in parte locavi;Amissam classem, socios à morte reduxi.Heu! furiis incensa feror,&c.

True Faith is no where to be found. Him toss'dOn Shore, of all Things indigent, I hereReceiv'd, and made him Partner of my Throne:(Fool that I was) repair'd his shatter'd Fleet,And hospitably sav'd his Friends from Death.Furies distract me.

But in what different Terms does she expostulate in this?

[167]Non ego cum Danais Trojanam exscindere gentemAulide juravi, classemve ad Pergama misi;Nec patris Anchisæ cineres, manesve revelli:Cur mea dicta negat duras demittere in aures?I never did conspireAtAuliswith theGreeks, to overturnTheTrojanState, nor sent a Fleet toTroy;Nor e'er disturb'd his bury'd Father's Dust.Why does he stop his unrelenting EarsTo my Intreaties?

[167]Non ego cum Danais Trojanam exscindere gentemAulide juravi, classemve ad Pergama misi;Nec patris Anchisæ cineres, manesve revelli:Cur mea dicta negat duras demittere in aures?

I never did conspireAtAuliswith theGreeks, to overturnTheTrojanState, nor sent a Fleet toTroy;Nor e'er disturb'd his bury'd Father's Dust.Why does he stop his unrelenting EarsTo my Intreaties?

Before, she had thus express'd her Rage:

[168]—Neque te teneo, neque dicta refello.I, sequere Italiam ventis; pete regna per undas;Spero equidem mediis (si quid pia numina possunt)Supplicia hausurum scopulis, &c.I nor detain thee, nor refel thy Words.Away forLatiumby the Winds; go, seekThy Kingdom o'er the Waves. For me, I hope,If the just Gods have Pow'r, thou wilt receiveThy due Reward among the Rocks.

[168]—Neque te teneo, neque dicta refello.I, sequere Italiam ventis; pete regna per undas;Spero equidem mediis (si quid pia numina possunt)Supplicia hausurum scopulis, &c.

I nor detain thee, nor refel thy Words.Away forLatiumby the Winds; go, seekThy Kingdom o'er the Waves. For me, I hope,If the just Gods have Pow'r, thou wilt receiveThy due Reward among the Rocks.

Behold, now, another Strain!

[169]Quo ruit? extremum hoc miseræ det munus amanti;Expectet facilemque fugam, ventosque ferentes.Non jam conjugium antiquum, quod prodidit, oro;Nec pulchro ut Latio careat, regnumque relinquat;Tempus inane peto, requiem, spatiumque furori,Dum mea me victam doceat fortuna dolere.Whither does he flySo hasty? This last Favour let him grantTo his unhappy Lover; let him waitAn easy Voyage, and permitting Winds.I now no more petition him to yieldThe Rites of Nuptials, which he has betray'd;Nor urge him to relinquish his gay HopesOfItaly, and Empire: All I beg,Is but a soothing Interval, some Rest,And Respite to my Passion; till my FateShall to Misfortune reconcile my Soul,Subdu'd by Grief, and teach me how to mourn.

Whither does he flySo hasty? This last Favour let him grantTo his unhappy Lover; let him waitAn easy Voyage, and permitting Winds.I now no more petition him to yieldThe Rites of Nuptials, which he has betray'd;Nor urge him to relinquish his gay HopesOfItaly, and Empire: All I beg,Is but a soothing Interval, some Rest,And Respite to my Passion; till my FateShall to Misfortune reconcile my Soul,Subdu'd by Grief, and teach me how to mourn.

That Man must be as void of Sense, as of Humanity, that does not feel in himself the strongest Emotions of Pity and Admiration, of Grief and Pleasure, when he reads so moving a Complaint; than which, I may venture to pronounce, there is not a greater Master-piece, either in Art or Nature.

I might justly fear lying under the Imputation of Prolixity in citing these Passages, if the Beauty of them did not compensate for their Number. As no one ever touch'd the Passions likeVirgil, you'll forgive the Liberty I have taken in recalling to your Mind so many pleasing Instances of his Power.

WhatLonginuscalls[170]φαντασιαι, and others, as he tells us, ειδωλοποιιαι theRomanWriters styleVisions, orImaginations, and the modernImages. These, then, operate, "when (asLonginus[171]speaks) a Man has so strong an Imagination of the Things he describes, that he seems to be in Transport, as it were, to behold them with his own Eyes, and places them before those of his Hearers." WhatLonginusadds immediately afterwards, in relation to these Images, I must confess I don't rightly comprehend, or (with all Deference to so great Authority) I cannot assent to. Ὁϛ δ' ἑτερου τι ἡ ῥητορικη φαντασια βουλεται, και ἑτερον ἡ παρα ποιηταιϛ, ουκ αν λαθοι σε. Ουδ' ὁτι τηϛ μεν εν ποιησει τελοϛ εστιν εκπληξιϛ, τηϛ δ' εν λογοιϛ εναργεια WhichTolliusthus paraphrastically translates: "You cannot be ignorant, I suppose, that Oratorical Visions intendone Thing, and Poetical another; that the Aim of the latter is to affect the Hearers with Terror; of the former to express every Thing so strongly, that it may be rather seen, than heard by the Audience. The one we may properly call Evidence, or Illustration; the other Consternation, or Amazement." I own, I say, this is what I cannot well digest; for neither is it true that the Images, which Poetry impresses, affect us with Terror only, for all Sorts of Images are impress'd by Poetry; nor is it the peculiar Property of Oratoryto express every Thing so strongly, that it may be rather seen, than heard by the Audience; since Poetry has a much larger Share in this Province than Oratory. The only Difference between them in this Particular is, that all Images are impress'd morestronglyby the one; but all aretrulyimpress'd by both. This is a Difficulty inLonginus, which not one of his numerous Commentators has touch'd upon. If, therefore, I am fallen into any Mistake, I hope I shall be the easier pardoned, as I have none of the Helps of the Learned to conduct me out of it. But however that be, all are agreed that the Images excited, both by Oratory and Poetry, strike the Mind with a sudden Force. To prove this,Longinusrecites the Speech ofOrestes[172], where he cries out, that he sees his Mother and the Furies stand before him; whichVirgilhas wonderfully imitated, in the following Passage:

[173]Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus,Et solem geminum, & duplices se ostendere Thebas:Aut Agamemnonius, scenis agitatus, Orestes,Armatam facibus matrem, & serpentibus atris,Cum fugit, ultricesque sedent in limine Diræ.So ravingPentheusTroops of Furies sees,Two Suns, and doubleThebes: So mad with Guilt,Orestes, agitated on the Stage,Flies from his Mother's Ghost, with Torches arm'd,And black infernal Snakes; revengeful FiendsSit in the Doors, and intercept his Flight.

So ravingPentheusTroops of Furies sees,Two Suns, and doubleThebes: So mad with Guilt,Orestes, agitated on the Stage,Flies from his Mother's Ghost, with Torches arm'd,And black infernal Snakes; revengeful FiendsSit in the Doors, and intercept his Flight.

As I have occasionally mention'd this remarkable Place, it may not be amiss to observe, that Images are no where better impress'd, than throughout that Description, whereDidois represented under the Conflicts of Love, and dismay'd with Prodigies. I shall only cite one Part of it, and the rather, because it contains a mere intellectual Idea not subject to the Senses, which yet is as clearly impress'd, as if it were the proper Object of them: An infallible Proof of the Skill of the Painter.

[174]——Agit ipse furentemIn somnis ferus Æneas; semperque relinquiSola sibi, semper longam incomitata videturIre viam, & Tyrios deserta quærere terra.In her DreamsCruelÆneaspersecutes her SoulTo Madness. Still abandon'd to herself,Cheerless, without a Guide, she seems to goA long, a tedious Journey, and to seekHerTyrianSubjects on deserted Coasts.

[174]——Agit ipse furentemIn somnis ferus Æneas; semperque relinquiSola sibi, semper longam incomitata videturIre viam, & Tyrios deserta quærere terra.

In her DreamsCruelÆneaspersecutes her SoulTo Madness. Still abandon'd to herself,Cheerless, without a Guide, she seems to goA long, a tedious Journey, and to seekHerTyrianSubjects on deserted Coasts.

To conclude; in a word, every Conception of the Mind, join'd to a beautiful Description, is an Image. I cannot produce a better Proof of this, than that Passage inHomer, whereAstyanaxshrinks at the Sight of his Father array'd in Armour.

[175]Ὁϛ ειπων, ὁυ παιδοϛ ορεξατο Φαιδιμοϛ Ἑκτωρ, κ. λ.Thus having spoke, th' illustrious Chief ofTroyStretch'd his fond Arms to clasp the lovely Boy.The Babe clung crying to his Nurse's Breast,Scar'd at the dazling Helm, and nodding Crest.Pope.[176]

[175]Ὁϛ ειπων, ὁυ παιδοϛ ορεξατο Φαιδιμοϛ Ἑκτωρ, κ. λ.

Thus having spoke, th' illustrious Chief ofTroyStretch'd his fond Arms to clasp the lovely Boy.The Babe clung crying to his Nurse's Breast,Scar'd at the dazling Helm, and nodding Crest.Pope.[176]

To which may be added, the following Description ofVirgil, out of innumerable others:

[177]——Viridi fœtam Mavortis in antroProcubuisse lupam, geminos huic ubera circumLudere pendentes pueros, & lambere matremImpavidos; illam tereti cervice reflexamMulcere alternos, & corpora fingere lingua.In the mossy Cave ofMarsA female Wolf lay suckling; at her TeatsTwo sporting Infants hung, and lick'd their Dam,Intrepid: She her sleek round Neck reclin'd,Smooth'd them, by Turns, and form'd them with her Tongue.

In the mossy Cave ofMarsA female Wolf lay suckling; at her TeatsTwo sporting Infants hung, and lick'd their Dam,Intrepid: She her sleek round Neck reclin'd,Smooth'd them, by Turns, and form'd them with her Tongue.

And that Night Piece of his, in the seventhÆneis, where we see the Ship under Sail, by Moon-shine:

[178]Aspirant auræ in noctem; nec candida cursumLuna negat; splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus.Proxima Circææ raduntur littora terræ,Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucosAssiduo resonat cantu, tectisque superbisUrit odoratam nocturna in lumina cedrum,Arguto tenues percurrens pectine telas.Hinc exaudiri gemitus, iræque leonumVincla recusantum, & sera sub nocte rudentum;Setigerique sues, atque in præsepibus ursiSævire, ac formæ magnorum ululare luporum.A Breeze at NightSprings fresh; nor does the silver Moon denyHer Beams, which tremble on the glimm'ring Waves.Next, coasting, close byCirce's Shores they sail;Where she, the wealthy Daughter of the Sun,With ceaseless singing makes the Groves resound,Groves inaccessible; and in the RoomsOf her proud Palace, for nocturnal Light,Sweet Cedar burns: While thro' the slender WebHer whistling Shuttle flies along the Loom.Hence Groans are heard; the Noise of Lions, fierce,Rebellious to their Chains, and roaring loudIn Dead of Night; the Grunt of bristly Boars;The Rage of Bears, reluctant, in their Stalls;And huge portentous Forms of howling Wolves.

A Breeze at NightSprings fresh; nor does the silver Moon denyHer Beams, which tremble on the glimm'ring Waves.Next, coasting, close byCirce's Shores they sail;Where she, the wealthy Daughter of the Sun,With ceaseless singing makes the Groves resound,Groves inaccessible; and in the RoomsOf her proud Palace, for nocturnal Light,Sweet Cedar burns: While thro' the slender WebHer whistling Shuttle flies along the Loom.Hence Groans are heard; the Noise of Lions, fierce,Rebellious to their Chains, and roaring loudIn Dead of Night; the Grunt of bristly Boars;The Rage of Bears, reluctant, in their Stalls;And huge portentous Forms of howling Wolves.

Tenth Lecture.

It would be entering upon too large a Field, to enquire into all the Variations, and Turns of Thought and Style, which Verse and Prose are capable of: Such as, Interrogations, Exclamations, the different Disposition of Tropes and Figures, the elegant Repetition of Words, the no less elegant Abruptness in Sentences, the Want of Connexion, Apostrophe, Prosopopœia, the Change of Numbers, Persons, Cases, Tenses; and a Multitude of other Incidents, which are reducible to Thought, as well as Style. Since the Variety of these is as infinite, as their Elegance is exquisite, it is impossible to explain them all by Rules, or illustrate them by Example.Longinushas mentioned some few, and our modern Books of Rhetoric are full of them. But the Want of Precept will be abundantly compensated to the Learner, by a good Taste, and a diligent Application to the Study of the best Authors.

Among the many Embellishments of Writing, few are attended with greater Beauty thanAntitheta.The Reason is obvious, because Contraries illustrate, and recommend each other by Comparison. Of this the following Passage inVirgilis a remarkable Instance; where we have a beautiful Irony and Antithesis, at the same Time:

[179]Egregiam vero laudem, & spolia ampla refertis,Tuque, puerque tuus, magnum & memorabile nomen;Una dolo Divûm si fœmina victa duorum est.Prodigious Trophies you indeed have gain'd,You, and your Boy; vast Praise, a deathless Name;If by the Fraud of two celestial Pow'rsOne Woman be subdu'd.

[179]Egregiam vero laudem, & spolia ampla refertis,Tuque, puerque tuus, magnum & memorabile nomen;Una dolo Divûm si fœmina victa duorum est.

Prodigious Trophies you indeed have gain'd,You, and your Boy; vast Praise, a deathless Name;If by the Fraud of two celestial Pow'rsOne Woman be subdu'd.

Near a-kin to it, is that Antithesis inOvid:

[180]——Quæ gloria vestra est;Si juvenes puerum, si multi fallitis unum?Will you, my Friends, united Strength employ,Against one many, Men against a Boy?

[180]——Quæ gloria vestra est;Si juvenes puerum, si multi fallitis unum?

Will you, my Friends, united Strength employ,Against one many, Men against a Boy?

When the Thoughts are thus set against each other, they appear with Energy, and strike the Mind with redoubled Force.

Another Elegance in a Writer, is to convey the whole of his Idea to the Reader, by expressing only some Circumstances of it.

[181]Dixerat; atque illam media inter talia ferroCollapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruoreSpumantem, sparsasque manus.Thus, while she spoke, th' Attendants saw her fall,The Sword all frothing, and her Hands besmear'dWith Blood.

[181]Dixerat; atque illam media inter talia ferroCollapsam aspiciunt comites, ensemque cruoreSpumantem, sparsasque manus.

Thus, while she spoke, th' Attendants saw her fall,The Sword all frothing, and her Hands besmear'dWith Blood.

ThusVirgildescribesDidokilling herself: An inferior Poet, no doubt, would have represented her in the fatal Act, rushing upon the Sword with all herStrength, the Blood gushing out, and that Part of her Body which receiv'd the Wound expos'd to View. But how much better are all these passed over, and suggested to us only by their Adjuncts and Effects? There is another Example, of this kind, in the fourthGeorgic, which is truly wonderful:

[182]Illa quidem, dum te fugeret per flumina præceps,Immanem ante pedes hydrum moritura puellaServantem ripas alta non vidit in herba.At chorus æqualis Dryadum clamore supremosImplerunt montes; flerunt Rhodopeiæ arces, &c.She doom'd to Death, while, heedless, thee she fled,Along the River's Side, before her Steps,In the high Grass saw not the monstrous Snake,Which, unperceiv'd, lay lurking on the Bank.But all the beauteous Quire of Woodland Nymphs,Her Fellows, fill'd with Shrieks the lofty Hills;TheRhodopeianMountains wept,&c.

She doom'd to Death, while, heedless, thee she fled,Along the River's Side, before her Steps,In the high Grass saw not the monstrous Snake,Which, unperceiv'd, lay lurking on the Bank.But all the beauteous Quire of Woodland Nymphs,Her Fellows, fill'd with Shrieks the lofty Hills;TheRhodopeianMountains wept,&c.

How concise, and ingenious! This Artifice of insinuating only the Sense to the Reader, is so useful in Epigram, that the whole Thought often turns upon it. Thus in that ofMartial:

[183]Pexatus pulchre, rides mea, Zoile, trita;Sunt hæc trita quidem, Zoile; sed mea sunt.My Threadbare Coat is scorn'd by Liv'ry-John:'Tis true, 'tis Threadbare—but it is my own.

[183]Pexatus pulchre, rides mea, Zoile, trita;Sunt hæc trita quidem, Zoile; sed mea sunt.

My Threadbare Coat is scorn'd by Liv'ry-John:'Tis true, 'tis Threadbare—but it is my own.

The Turn, you see, is witty, and facetious! But how poor a Joke had it been, if the Poet had only said, however true it was, that the Clothes whichZoiluswore were not his own? But I fear, I transgress the very Rule I am recommending: I shall therefore add no more, than only to remind the Reader, that what I have said under another Head[184],might more properly come under this,viz. That the Mind of Man does not love to have too minute a Detail of Particulars; but takes a Pleasure in having Room for Imagination, and in forming a Judgment of what is not express'd, from what is.

And since I have casually mention'd Transitions, I would here observe, that the Elegance of them is equal to their Difficulty: The great Secret consists either in digressing of asuddento some new Subject, and giving the Reader the Pleasure of a Surprize; and yet continuing on the Thread of the Discourse so artfully, that he may admire aConnection, where, at first, there seem'd to be none: Or in such a gradual Transition from Thought to Thought, of near Affinity with each other, that the Mind may be imperceptibly led to a very different Subject, without being sensible of the intermediate Steps of the Digression. Thus, in the Rainbow, the neighbouring Colours are so like each other, that 'tis hard to say where this ends, or that begins; yet there's a wide Difference, if we leave out the intermediate Shades, and compare the Rays of the two Extremes. My Meaning, perhaps, will appear clearer from Example.Horacebegins his 29th Ode, of the third Book, in the following Manner:

Tyrrhena regum progenies, tibiNon ante verso lene merum cado,Cum flore, Mæcenas, rosarum,Pressa tuis balanus capillisJamdudum apud me est,&c.My noble Lord, of Royal Blood,That from theTuscanMonarchs flow'd,I have a Cask ne'er pierc'd before;My Garlands wreath'd, my Crowns are made,My Roses pluck'd to grace thy Head;As fair and sweet as e'erPrænestebore.

Tyrrhena regum progenies, tibiNon ante verso lene merum cado,Cum flore, Mæcenas, rosarum,Pressa tuis balanus capillisJamdudum apud me est,&c.

My noble Lord, of Royal Blood,That from theTuscanMonarchs flow'd,I have a Cask ne'er pierc'd before;My Garlands wreath'd, my Crowns are made,My Roses pluck'd to grace thy Head;As fair and sweet as e'erPrænestebore.

And concludes it thus:

Non est meum, si mugiat AfricisMalus procellis, ad miseras precesDecurrere, & votis pacisci,Ne Cypriæ, Tyriæque, mercesAddant avaro divitias mari:Tunc me biremis præsidio scaphæTutum per Ægæos tumultusAura feret, geminusque Pollux.When spreading Sails rough Tempests tear,I make no lamentable Pray'r;I do not bargain with the Gods,Nor offer costly SacrificeTo save my preciousTyrianDyesFrom adding Riches to the greedy Floods.E'en 'midst these Storms I'll safely ride,My Bark shall stem the highest Tide,Tho' Tempests toss, and th'Ocean raves;Castorshall gather gentle Gales,AndPolluxfill my spreading Sails,And bear me safe thro' theÆgæanWaves.Creech.

When spreading Sails rough Tempests tear,I make no lamentable Pray'r;I do not bargain with the Gods,Nor offer costly SacrificeTo save my preciousTyrianDyesFrom adding Riches to the greedy Floods.E'en 'midst these Storms I'll safely ride,My Bark shall stem the highest Tide,Tho' Tempests toss, and th'Ocean raves;Castorshall gather gentle Gales,AndPolluxfill my spreading Sails,And bear me safe thro' theÆgæanWaves.Creech.

Between the Beginning and Ending, consider'd in themselves, how wide a Difference? And yet, if we examine the Gradation of Thought thro' the whole Ode, we shall see the most elegant Connection. In the Beginning, the Poet invites his Statesman Friend to Supper: "I have prepared every Thing for your Reception, says he; leave, for a While, the City, the Business and Riches of it; 'tis a Pleasure often to Men of high Station, to partake of the Change of Low Life. Forget Politics for a While, and be not over anxious for the Nation's Welfare. Providence conceals Futurity from us Mortals: Let us therefore, in Prudence, make the best of the present; all else is carry'd down by the Stream of Time, and what is past returns no more. Fortune is fickle; I am pleas'd, when she smiles;but disregard her Frowns, contented with Poverty and Virtue. Care is the inseparable Attendant of Riches; I compound to want the one, that I may be secure from the other. I have no Business, when Storms roar, to fall into Tears,"&c. Behold a Chain connected, and yet conceal'd with the greatest Art.

Sometimes it is necessary that the Transition should appear open, and design'd; but often otherwise. In the following Passage, we shall see a Specimen of either Sort; I mean, of the formal, and of the sudden Transition.Turnushaving, in the eleventhÆneis, had a good many Words withDrances, and in great Passion thrown out these, among the rest,

[185]Nunquam animam talem dextra hac (absiste moveri)Amittes; habitet tecum, & sit pectore in isto.A Soul like that (dismissThy Terror) by this Hand thou ne'er shalt lose;There let it dwell, and in that Breast remain.

[185]Nunquam animam talem dextra hac (absiste moveri)Amittes; habitet tecum, & sit pectore in isto.

A Soul like that (dismissThy Terror) by this Hand thou ne'er shalt lose;There let it dwell, and in that Breast remain.

thus turns his Discourse to the King:

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