Chapter 12

tentanda via est, qua me quoque possimTollere humo,VICTORQUEvirûm volitare per ora.

This idea ofvictory, thus casually dropped, he makes the basis of his imagery; which, by means of this gradual preparation, offers itself easily to the apprehension, though it thereby loses, as the poet designed it should, much of that broadglare, in which writers of less judgment love to shew their ideas, as tending to set the common reader to a gaze. The allegory then proceeds:

Primus ego patriam mecum (modo vita supersit)Aonio rediens deducam vertice Musas.

The projected conquest was no less than that of all theGrecian Musesat once; whom, to carry on the decorum of the allegory, he threatens, 1. to force from their high and advantageous situation on the summit of theAonian mount; and, 2. bringcaptivewith him into Italy: theformercircumstanceintimating to us the difficulty and danger of the enterprize; and thelatter, his complete execution of it.

Thepalmy, triumphal entry, which was usual to victors on their return from foreign successes, follows:

Primus Idumaeas referam tibi, Mantua, palmas.

But ancient conquerors did not hold it sufficient to reap this transient fruit of their labours. They were ambitious to consecrate their glory to immortality, by atemple, or other public monument, which was to be built out of the spoils of the conquered cities or countries. This the reader sees is suitable to the idea of the great work proposed; which was, out of the old remains of Grecian art, to compose anewone, that should comprize the virtues of them all: as, in fact, the Aeneïd is known to unite in itself whatever is most excellent, not in Homer only, but, universally, in the wits of Greece. The everlasting monument of themarbletemple is then reared:

Et viridi in campo templum deMARMOREponam.

And, because ancient superstition usually preferred, for these purposes, the banks ofriversto other situations, therefore the poet, in beautiful allusion to the site of some of the most celebrated pagan temples, buildshison theMincius. We see with what a scrupulous propriety the allusion is carried on.

Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus erratMincius,et tenera praetexit arundine ripas.

Next, this temple was to be dedicated, as a monument of the victor’spiety, as well as glory, to some propitious, tutelary deity, under whose auspices the great adventure had been atchieved. Thededicationis then made to the poet’sdivinity, Augustus:

In medio mihiCaesarerit, templumque tenebit.

Templum tenebit.The expression is emphatical; as intimating to us, and prefiguring the secret purpose of the Aeneïs, which was, in the person of Aeneas, to shadow forth and consecrate the character of Augustus. His divinity was to fill andoccupythat great work. And the ample circuit of the epic plan was projected only, as a more awful enclosure of that august presence, which was toinhabitand solemnize the vast round of this poetic building.

And now the wonderful address of the poet’s artifice appears. The mad servility of his country haddeifiedthe emperor in good earnest; and his brother poets made no scruple toworshipin his temples, and to come before him with handfuls ofrealincense, smoking from the altars. But the sobriety of Virgil’s adoration was of another cast. He seizes this circumstance only toembodya poetical fiction; which, on the supposition of an actualdeification, hath all the force of compliment, which thefactimplies, and yet, as presented through the chast veil of allegory, eludes the offence, which thenakedrecital must needs have given to sober and reasonable men. Had the emperor’spopulardivinity beenflatly acknowledged, and adored, the praise, even under Virgil’s management, had been insufferable for its extravagance; and, without some support for his poeticalnumento rest upon, the figure had been more forced and strained, than the rules of just writing allow. As it is, the historical truth of hisapotheosisauthorizes and supports thefiction, and the fiction, in its turn, serves to refine and palliate thehistory.

The Aeneïs being, by the poet’s improvement of this circumstance, thus naturally predicted under the image of atemple, we may expect to find a close and studied analogy betwixt them. The great, component parts of theonewill, no doubt, be made, very faithfully, to represent and adumbrate those of theother. This hath been executed with great art and diligence.

1. Thetemple, we observed, was erected on the banks of a river. This site was not only proper, for the reason already mentioned, but also, for the further convenience of institutingpublic games, the ordinary attendants of theconsecrationof temples. These were generally, as in the case of the Olympic and others, celebrated on the banks of rivers.

Illi victor ego, et Tyrio conspectus in ostro,Centum quadrijugos agitabo ad flumina currus.Cuncta mihi, Alpheum linquens lucosque Molorchi,Cursibus et crudo decernet Graecia caestu.

To see the propriety of thefigurein this place, the reader needs only be reminded of thebook of gamesin the Aeneïd, which was purposely introduced inhonour of the Emperor, and not, as is commonly thought, for a mere trial of skill between the poet and his master. The emperor was passionately fond of these sports, and was even the author, or restorer, ofoneof them. It is not to be doubted, that he alludes also to thequinquennial games, actually celebrated, in honour of his temples, through many parts of the empire. And this the poet undertakes in theciviloffice ofVICTOR.

2. What follows is in thereligiousoffice ofPriest. For it is to be noted, that, in assuming this double character, which the decorum of the solemnities, here recounted, prescribed, the poet has an eye to thepoliticaldesign of the Aeneïs, which was to do honour to Caesar, in either capacity of acivilandreligiouspersonage; both being essential to the idea of thePERFECT LEGISLATOR, whose office and character (as an eminent critic hath lately shewn us36) it was his purpose, in this immortal work, to adorn and recommend. The account of hissacerdotal functionsis delivered in these words:

Ipse caput tonsae foliis ornatus olivaeDona feram. Jam, nunc solemnes ducere pompasAd delubra juvat, caesosque videre juvencos;Vel scena ut versis discedat frontibus, utquePurpurea intexti tollant aulaea Britanni.

The imagery in this place cannot be understood, without reflecting on the customary form and dispositionof the pagan temples.Delubrum, orDelubra, for eithernumberis used indifferently, denotes the shrine, or sanctuary, wherein the statue of the presiding God was placed. This was in the center of the building. Exactly before thedelubrum, and at no great distance from it, was theALTAR. Further, the shrine, ordelubrum, was inclosed and shut up on all sides bydoorsof curious carved-work, and ductileveils, embellished by the rich embroidery offlowers,animals, orhuman figures. This being observed, the progress of the imagery before us will be this. The processionad delubra, or shrine: the sacrifice on thealtars, erected before it; and lastly, the painted, or rather wroughtsceneryof the purpleveils, inclosing the image, which were ornamented, and seemed to be sustained or held up by the figures ofinwoven Britons. The meaning of all which, is, that the poet would proceed to the celebration of Caesar’s praise in all the gradual, solemn preparation of poetic pomp: that he would render the most gratefulofferingsto his divinity in those occasionalepisodes, which he should consecrate to his more immediate honour: and, finally, that he would provide the richest texture of his fancy, for a covering to that admiredimageof his virtues, which was to make the sovereign pride and glory of his poem. The choice of theinwoven Britons, for the support of hisveil, is well accounted for by those, who tell us, that Augustus was proud to have a number of these to serve about him in quality of slaves.

The ornaments of theDOORSof thisdelubrum, on which the sculptor used to lavish all the riches of hisart, are next delineated.

In foribus pugnam ex auro solidoque elephantoGangaridum faciam, victorisque arma Quirini;Atque hic undantem bello, magnumque fluentemNilum, ac navali surgentes aere columnas.Addam urbes Asiae domitas, pulsumque Niphatem,Fidentemque fugâ Parthum versisque sagittis;Et duo rapta manu diverso ex hoste trophaea,Bisque triumphatas utroque ex littore gentes.

Here the covering of thefigureis too thin to hide theliteralmeaning from the commonest reader, who sees, that the several triumphs of Caesar, here recorded insculpture, are those, which the poet hath taken most pains tofinish, and hath occasionally inserted, as it were, inminiature, in several places of hispoem. Let him only turn to the prophetic speech of Anchises’ shade in theVIth, and to the description of the shield in theVIIIthbook.

Hitherto we have contemplated the decorations of theshrine, i. e. such as bear a more direct and immediate reference to the honour of Caesar. We are now presented with a view of the remoter, surrounding ornaments of the temple. These are the illustrious Trojan chiefs, whose story was to furnish the materials, or, more properly, to form the body andcase, as it were, of his august structure. They are also connected with the idol deity of the place by the closest ties of relationship, the Julian familyaffecting to derive its pedigree from this proud original. The poet then, in his arrangement of these additional figures, with admirable judgment, completes and rounds the entire fiction.

Stabunt et Parii lapides, spirantia signa,Assaraci proles, demissaeque ab Jove gentisNomina: Trosque parens et Trojae Cynthius auctor.

Nothing now remains but forfameto eternize the glories of what the great architect had, at the expence of so much art and labour, completed; which is predicted in the highest sublime of ancient poetry, under the idea ofENVY, whom the poet personalizes, shuddering at the view of such transcendent perfection; and tasting, beforehand, the pains of a remediless vexation, strongly pictured in the image of the worst, infernal tortures.

Invidiainfelix furias amnemque severumCocyti metuet, tortosque Ixionis angues,Immanemque rotam, et non exuperabile saxum.

Thus have I presumed, but with a religious awe, to inspect and declare the mysteries of this ideal temple. The attempt after all might have been censured, as prophane, if the greatMystagoguehimself, or some body for him37, had not given usthe undoubted key to it. Under this encouragement I could not withstand the temptation of disclosing thus much of one of the noblest fictions of antiquity;and the rather, as the propriety of allegoric composition, which made the distinguished pride of ancient poetry, seems but little known or attended to by themodernprofessors of this fine art.

17.Nil oriturum alias, nil ortum tale fatentes.]Il n’est impossible, says M.de Balzac, in that puffed, declamatory rhapsody, intitled,LePrince,de resister au mouvement interieur, qui me pousse. Je ne sçaurois m’empecher de parler duRoy,et de sa vertu; de crier à tous les princes, que c’est l’exemple, qu’ils doivent suivre;DE DEMANDER A TOUS LES PEUPLES, ET A TOUS LES AGES, S’ILS ONT JAMAIS RIEN VEU DE SEMBLABLE. This was spoken of a king of France, who, it will be owned, had his virtues. But they were the virtues of theman, and not of thePrince. This, however, was a distinction, which the eloquent encomiast was not aware of, or, to speak more truly, his business required him to overlook. For the whole elogy is worth perusing, as it affords a striking proof of the uniform genius of flattery, which, alike under all circumstances, and indifferent to all characters, can hold the same language of the weakest, as the ablest of princes, ofLouis le juste, andCaesar Octavianus Augustus.

23.Sic fautor veterum, &c. to v. 28.] The folly, here satyrized, is common enough in all countries, and extends to all arts. It was just the same preposterous affectation of venerating antiquity, which put the connoisseurs inpainting, under the emperors, on crying up the simple and rude sketches ofAglaophonandPolygnotus, above the exquisite and finished pictures ofParrhasiusandZeuxis. The account is given by Quintilian, who in his censure of this absurdity, points to the undoubted source of it. His words are these: “Primi, quorum quidem opera non vetustatis modò gratiâ visenda sunt, clari pictores fuisse dicuntur Polygnotus et Aglaophon; quorum simplex color tam sui studiosos adhuc habet, ut illa propè rudia ac velut futurae mox artis primordia, maximis, qui post eos extiterunt, auctoribus praeferantur,PROPRIO QUODAM INTELLIGENDI(ut mea fert opinio)AMBITU.” [L. xii. c. 10.] The lover of painting must be the more surprized at this strangepreference, when he is told, that Aglaophon, at least, had the use of onlyone single colour: whereas Parrhasius and Zeuxis, who are amongst themaximi autores, here glanced at, not only employeddifferent colours, but were exceedingly eminent, the one of them forcorrect drawing, and the delicacy of his outline; theother, for hisinventionof that great secret of thechiaro oscuro. “Post Zeuxis et Parrhasius: quorum priorLUMINUM UMBRARUMQUE INVENISSE RATIONEM,secundus,EXAMINASSE SUBTILIUS LINEAS DICITUR.” [Ibid.]

28.Si, quia Graiorum sunt antiquissima quaeque scriptavelOPTIMA, &c.] The common interpretation of this place supposes the poet to admitthe most ancient of the Greek writings to be the best. Which were even contrary to all experience and common sense, and is directly confuted by the history of the Greek learning. What he allows is, thesuperiorityof the oldest Greek writingsextant; which is a very different thing. The turn of his argument confines us to this sense. For he would shew the folly of concluding the same of theold Romanwriters, on theirfirstrude attempts to copy the finished models of Greece, as of theold Greek writersthemselves, who were furnished with the means of producing thosemodelsby long discipline and cultivation. This appears, certainly, from what follows:

Venimus ad summum fortunae: pingimus atquePsallimus et luctamur Achivis doctius unctis.

The design of which hath been entirely overlooked. For it hath been taken only for ageneral expressionof falsehood and absurdity, of just the same import, as the proverbial line,

Nil intra est oleâ, nil extra est in nuce duri.

Whereas it wasdesignedlypitched upon to convey aparticular illustrationof the very absurdity inquestion, and to shew the maintainers of it, from the nature of things, how senseless their position was. It is to this purpose: “As well it may be pretended, that weRomanssurpass theGreeksin the arts ofpainting, music, and the exercises of the palaestra, which yet it is confessed, we do not, as that ouroldwriters surpass themodern. The absurdity, in either case, is the same. For, as the Greeks, who had long devoted themselves, with great and continued application, to the practice of these arts (which is the force of the epithetUNCTI, here given them) must, for that reason, carry the prize from the Romans, who have taken very little pains about them; so, the modern Romans, who have for a long time been studying thearts of poetry and composition, must needs excel the old Roman writers, who had little or no acquaintance with those arts, and had been trained, by no previous discipline, to the exercise of them.”

The conciseness of the expression made it necessary to open the poet’s sense at large. We now see, that his intention, in these two lines, was to expose, in the way ofargumentative illustration, the ground of that absurdity, which the preceding verses had represented as, at first sight, so shocking tocommon sense.

33.Unctis.] This is by no means a general unmeaning epithet: but is beautifully chosen to express the unweariedassiduityof the Greek artists.For the practice ofanointingbeing essential to their agonistic trials, the poet elegantly puts the attendingcircumstancefor thethingitself. And so, in speaking of them, asUNCTI, he does the same, as if he had called them “the industrious, orexercisingGreeks;” which was the very idea his argument required him to suggest to us.

43.—Honeste.] Expressing thecreditsuch a piece was held in, as had the fortune to be rankedinter veteres, agreeably to what he said above—PERFECTOSveteresquev. 37—and—vetus atquePROBUSv. 39: which affords a fresh presumption in favour of Dr. Bentley’s conjecture on v. 41, where, instead ofveteres poetas, he would read,

Inter quos referendus erit? veteresnePROBOSQUE,An quos &c.

54.Adeo sanctum est vetus omne poema.] The reader is not to suppose, that Horace, in this ridicule of the foolish adorers of antiquity, intended any contempt of the old Roman poets, who, as the old writers in every country, abound in strong sense, vigorous expression, and the truest representation of life and manners. His quarrel is only with the critic:

Qui redit in fastos et virtutem aestimat annis.

An affectation, which for itsfolly, if it had not too apparently sprung from a worse principle, deserved to be laughed at.

For the rest, he every where discovers a candid and just esteem of their earlier writers; as may be seen from many places in this very epistle; but more especially from that severe censure in 1 S. x. 17. (which hath more of acrimony in it, than he usually allows to his satyr) when, in speaking of the writers of the old comedy, he adds,

Quos neque pulcherHermogenes unquam legit, neque simius isteNil praeter Calvum et doctus cantare Catullum.

With all his zeal for correct writing, he was not, we see, of the humour of that delicate sort, who are for burning their old poets; and, to be well with women and court critics, confine their reading and admiration to the innocent sing-song of some soft and fashionable rhymer, whose utter insipidity is a thousand times more insufferable, than any barbarism.

56.Pacuvius docti famam senis, Accius alti:] The epithetdoctus, here applied to the tragic poet,Pacuvius, is, I believe, sometimes misunderstood, though the opposition toaltusclearly determines the sense. For, as this last word expresses thesublimeof sentiment and expression, which comes fromnature, so the former word must needs be interpreted of thatexactnessin both, or at least of thatskillin the conduct of the scene (the properlearningof a dramatic poet) which is the result ofart.

The Latin worddoctusis indeed somewhat ambiguous: but we are chiefly misled by the English word,learned, by which we translate it, and bywhich, in general use, is meant, rather extensive reading, and what we callerudition, than a profound skill in the rules and principles of any art. But this last is frequently the sense of the Latin termdoctus, as we may see from its application, in the best classic writers, to other, besides the literary professions. Thus, to omit other instances, we find it applied very often in Horace himself. It is applied to asinging-girl—doctaepsallere Chiae—in one of his Odes, l. iv. 13. It is applied to severalmechanic artsin this epistle—“doctiusAchivis pingimus atque psallimus et luctamur:” It is even applied,absolutely, to the player Roscius—doctusRoscius, in v. 82, where his skill inactingcould only be intended by it. It is, also, in this sense, that he calls his imitator,doctus, i. e. skilled and knowing in his art, A. P. v. 319. Nay, it is precisely in this sense that Quinctilian uses the word, when he characterizes this very Pacuvius—Pacuvium videridoctiorem,qui esse docti affectant, volunt[l. x. c. 1.] i. e.they, who affect to be thought knowing in the rules of dramatic writing, give this praise to Pacuvius. The expression is so put, as if Quinctilian intended a censure of these critics; because this pretence to dramatic art, and the strict imitation of the Greek poets, was grown, in his time, and long before it, into a degree of pedantry andaffectation; no other merit but this ofdocti, being of any significancy, in their account. There is no reason to think that Quinctilian meant to insinuate the poet’swant of this merit, or his own contempt of it: though he might think, and with reason, that too much stress had been laid upon it by some men.

It is in the same manner that one of our own poets has been characterized; and the application of this term to him will shew the force of it, still more clearly.

In Mr. Pope’s fine imitation of this epistle, are these lines—

In all debates, where critics bear a part,Not one but nods, and talks of Jonson’sart—

One sees, then, how Mr. Pope understood thedocti, of Horace. But our Milton applies the wordlearneditself, and in the Latin sense of it, to Jonson—

When Jonson’slearnedsock is on—

For what is thislearning? Indisputably, hisdramatic learning, his skill in the scene, and his observance of the ancient rules and practice. For, though Jonson was indeedlearned, in every sense, it is the learning of his profession, as a comic artist, for which he is here celebrated.

The Latin substantive,doctrina, is used with the same latitude, as the adjective,doctus. It sometimes signifies thepeculiar sortof learning, under consideration; though sometimes again it signifieslearning, or erudition, at large. It is used in theformersense by Cicero, when he observes of the satires of Lucilius, that they were remarkable for their wit andpleasantry, not for theirlearning—doctrinamediocris. So that there is no contradiction in this judgment, as is commonly thought, to that of Quinctilian, who declares roundly—eruditioin eo mira—For, thoughdoctrinaanderuditiobe sometimes convertible terms, they are not so here. ThelearningCicero speaks of in Lucilius, as being butmoderate, is his learning, or skill in the art of writing and composition.—That this was the whole purport of Cicero’s observation, any one may see by turning to the place where it occurs, in the proeme to his first bookDe finibus.

59.Vincere Caecilius gravitate, Terentius arte.] It should be observed, that the judgment, here passed [from v. 55 to 60] on the most celebrated Roman writers, being only a representation of thepopularopinion, not of the poet’sown, the commendations, given to them, are deserved, or otherwise, just as it chances.

Interdum volgus rectum videt, est ubi peccat.

To give an instance of this in the line before us.

A critic of unquestioned authority acquaints us, wherein thereal distinct meritof these two dramatic writers consists. “InARGUMENTIS, Caecilius palmam poscit; inEthesin,Terentius.” [Varro.] Now bygravitate, as applied to Caecilius, we may properly enough understand thegrave and affecting castof his comedy; which is further confirmed by what the same critic elsewhere observes ofhim. “PatheTrabea, Attilius, etCaeciliusfacile moverunt.” But Terence’s characteristic ofpainting the manners, which is, plainly, the right interpretation of Varro’sEthesin, is not so significantly expressed by the attributearte, here given to him. The word indeed is of large and general import, and may admit of various senses; but being here applied to adramaticwriter, it most naturally and properly denotes thepeculiarart of his profession, that is,the artificial contexture of the plot. And this I doubt not was the very praise, the town-critics of Horace’s time intended to bestow on this poet. The matter is easily explained.

The simplicity and exact unity of the plots in the Greek comedies would be, of course, uninteresting to a people, not thoroughly instructed in the genuin beauties of the drama. They had too thin a contexture to satisfy the gross and lumpish taste of a Roman auditory. The Latin poets, therefore, bethought themselves of combining two stories into one. And this, which is what we call thedouble plot, affording the opportunity of more incidents, and a greater variety ofaction, was perfectly suited to their apprehensions. But, of all the Latin Comedians,Terenceappears to have practised this secret most assiduously: at least, as may be concluded from what remains of them.Plautushath very frequentlysingle plots, which he was enabled to support by, what was natural to him, a force of buffoon pleasantry.Terence, whose genius lay another way, or whose taste wasabhorrent from such ribaldry, had recourse to the other expedient ofdouble plots. And this, I suppose, is what gained him the popular reputation of being the mostartificialwriter for the stage. TheHecyrais the only one of his comedies, of the true ancient cast. And we know how it came off in the representation. That ill-success and the simplicity of its conduct have continued to draw upon it the same unfavourable treatment from the critics, to this day; who constantly speak of it, as much inferior to the rest; whereas, for the genuin beauty of dramatic design, and the observance, after the ancient Greek manner, of the nice dependency and coherence of thefable, throughout, it is, indisputably, to every reader of true taste, the most masterly and exquisite of the whole collection.

63.Interdum volgus rectum videt: est ubi peccat.] The capricious levity ofpopular opinionhath been noted even to a proverb. And yet it is this, which, after all,fixesthe fate of authors. This seemingly odd phaenomenon I would thus account for.

What is usually complimented with the high and reverend appellation ofpublic judgmentis, in any single instance, but the repetition or echo, for the most part eagerly catched and strongly reverberated on all sides, of a few leading voices, which have happened to gain the confidence, and so direct thecryof the public. But (as, in fact, it too often fallsout) this prerogative of thefewmay be abused to the prejudice of themany. The partialities of friendship, the fashionableness of the writer, his compliance with the reigning taste, the lucky concurrence of time and opportunity, the cabal of a party, nay, the very freaks of whim and caprice, these, or any of them, as occasion serves, can support the dullest, as the opposite disadvantages can depress the noblest performance; and give the currency or neglect toeither, far beyond what the genuin character of each demands. Hence thepublic voice, which is but the aggregate of these corrupt judgments, infinitely multiplied, is, with the wise, at such a juncture, deservedly of little esteem. Yet, in a succession of suchjudgments, delivered at different times and by different sets or juntos of these sovereign arbiters of the fate of authors, the public opinion naturally gets clear of these accidental corruptions. Every fresh succession shakes off some; till, by degrees, the work is seen in its proper form, unsupported of every other recommendation, than what its native inherent excellence bestows upon it. Then, and not till then,the voice of the peoplebecomes sacred; after which it soon advances intodivinity, before which all ages must fall down and worship. For now Reason alone, without her corrupt assessors, takes the chair. And her sentence, when once promulgated and authorized by the general voice, fixes the unalterable doom of authors. ΟΛΩΣ ΚΑΛΑ ΝΟΜΙΖΕ ΥΨΗ ΚΑΙ ΑΛΗΘΙΝΑ, ΤΑ ΔΙΑΠΑΝΤΟΣ ΑΡΕΣΚΟΝΤΑΚΑΙ ΠΑΣΙΝ [Longinus, § vii.] And the reason follows, agreeably to the account here given. Ὅταν γὰρ τοῖς ἀπὸ διαφόρων ΕΠΙΤΗΔΕΥΜΑΤΩΝ, ΒΙΩΝ, ΖΗΛΩΝ, ΗΛΙΚΙΩΝ, λόγων, ἕν τι καὶ ταὐτὸν ἅμα περὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἅπασι δοκῇ, τόθ’ ἡ ἐξ ἀσυμφώνων ὡς κρίσις καὶ συγκατάθεσις τὴν ἐπὶ τῷ θαυμαζομένῳ ΠΙΣΤΙΝ ΙΣΧΥΡΑΝ ΛΑΜΒΑΝΕΙ ΚΑΙ ΑΝΑΜΦΙΛΕΚΤΟΝ. [Ibid.]

This is the true account ofpopular fame, which, while it well explains the ground of the poet’s aphorism, suggests an obvious remark, but very mortifying to every candidate of literary glory. It is, that, whether he succeeds in his endeavours after public applause, or not,fameis equally out of his reach, and, as the moral poet teaches,a thing beyond him, before his death, on either supposition. For at the very time, that this bewitching music is sounding in his ears, he can never be sure, if, instead of the divine consentient harmony of a just praise, it be not only the discordant din and clamour of ignorance or prepossession.

If there be any exception to this melancholy truth, it must be in the case of some uncommon genius, whose superior power breaks through all impediments in his road to fame, and forces applause even from those very prejudices, that would obstruct his career to it. It was the rare felicity of the poet, just mentioned, to receive, in his life-time, this sure and pleasing augury of immortality.

88.Ingeniis non ille favet, &c.]Malherbewas to the French, pretty much whatHoracehad been to the Latin, poetry. These great writers had, each of them, rescued the lyric muse of their country out of the rude, ungracious hands of their old poets. And, as their talents of agood ear,elegant judgment, andcorrect expression, were the same, they presented her to the public in all the air and grace, and yetseverity, of beauty, of which her form was susceptible. Their merits and pretensions being thus far resembling, the reader may not be incurious to know the fate and fortune ofeach.Horacehath very frankly told us, what befel himself from the malevolent and low passions of his countrymen.Malherbedid not come off, with the wits and critics of his time, much better; as we learn from a learned person, who hath very warmly recommended his writings to the public. Speaking of the envy, which pursued him in hisprose-works, but, says he, “Comme il faisoit une particuliere profession de lapoesie, c’est en cette qualité qu’il a de plus severes censeurs, et receu des injustices plus signalées. Mais il me semble que je fermerai la bouche à ceux, que le blament, quand je leur aurai monstré, que sa façon d’escrire est excellente, quoiqu’elle s’eloigne un peu de celle desNOS ANCIENS POETES, QU’ILS LOUENT PLUSTOT PAR UN DEGOUST DES CHOSES PRESENTES, QUE PAR LES SENTIMENTS D’UNE VERITABLE ESTIME.” [Disc. de M. Godeau sur les oeuvres de M. Malherbe.]

97.Suspendit mentem vultumque.] The expression hath great elegance, and is not liable to the imputation ofharsh, or improper construction. Forsuspenditis not taken, with regard either tomentemorvultum, in itsliteral, butfigurative, signification; and, thus, it becomes, in one and thesamesense, applicable toboth.

Otherwise, this way of couplingtwo substantivesto averb, which does not, in strict grammatical usage,governboth; or, if it doth, must needs be construed in different senses; hath given just offence to the best critics.

Mr. Pope censures a passage of this kind, in theIliad, with severity; and thinksthe taste of the ancients was, in general, too good for those fooleries38.

Mr. Addison is perfectly of the same mind, as appears from his criticism on that line in Ovid,Consiliis, non curribus utere nostris, “This way of joining, says he, two such different ideas as chariot and counsel to the same verb, is mightily used byOvid, but is a very low kind of wit, and has always in it a mixture ofpun; because the verb must be taken in a different sense, when it is joined with one of the things, from what it has in conjunction with the other. Thus in the end of this story he tells you, that Jupiter flung a thunderbolt at Phaëton;pariterque animaque rotisqueexpulit aurigam: where he makes a forced piece ofLatin(animâ expulit aurigam) that he may couple the soul and the wheels to the same verb39.”

These, the reader will think, are pretty good authorities. For, in matters oftaste, I know of none, that more deserve to be regarded. Themere verbal critic, one would think, should be cautious, how he opposed himself to them. And yet a very learned Dutchman, who has taken great pains inelucidatingan old Greek love-story, which, with its more passionate admirers, may, perhaps, pass for theMarianneof antiquity, hath not scrupled to censure this decision of their’s very sharply40.

Having transcribed the censure of Mr. Pope, who, indeed, somewhat too hastily, suspects the line in Homer for an Interpolation, our critic fastens upon him directly.En cor Zenodoti, en jecur Cratetis!But foul language and fair criticism are different things; and what he offers of thelatterrather accounts for than justifies theformer. All he says on the subject, is in the good old way ofauthorities, which, he diligently rakes together out of every corner of Greek and Roman antiquity. From all these he concludes, as he thinks, irresistibly, not that the passage in questionmightbegenuin(for that few would dispute with him) but that the kind of expressionitself is areal beauty.Bona elocutio est: honesta figura.Though, to the praise of his discretion be it remembered, he does not even venture on this assertion, without his usual support ofprecedent. And, for want of a better, he takes up with oldServius. For so, it seems, this grammarian hath declared himself, with respect to some expressions of the same kind inVirgil.

But let him make the best of his authorities. And, when he has done that, I shall take the liberty to assure him, that the persons, he contends against, do not think themselves, in the least, concerned with them. For, though he believes it an undeniable maxim,Critici non esse inquirere, utrum recte autor quid scripserit, sed an omnino sic scripserit41: yet, in the case before us, he must not be surprized, if others do not so conceive of it.

Indeed, where the critic would defend theauthenticityof a word or expression, the way ofprecedentis, doubtless, the very best, that common sense allows to be taken. For the evidence offact, at once, bears down all suspicion ofcorruptionorinterpolation. Again; if theeleganceof single words (or of intire phrases, where the suspicion turns on theoddity or uncommoness of the construction, only) be the matter in dispute, full and precise authorities must decide it. Forelegance, here, means nothing else but the practice of the best writers. And thusfar I would join issue with the learned censurer; and should think he did well in prescribing this rule to himself in the correction ofapproved ancient authors.

But what have these cases to do with the point in question? The objection is made, not towords, which alone are capable of being justified by authority, but tothings, which must ever be what they are, in spite of it. This mode of writing is shewn to be abundantly defective, for reasons taken fromthe nature of our ideas, and the end and genius of the nobler forms of composition. And what is it to tell us, that great writers have overlooked or neglected them?

1. In our customary train ofthinking, the mind is carried along,in succession, fromoneclear and distinct idea toanother. Or, if the attention beat onceemployed ontwo senses, there is ever such a close and near analogy betwixt them, that the perceptive faculty, easily and almost instantaneously passing from the one to the other, is not divided in its regards betwixt them, but even seems to itself to consider them, asone: as is the case withmetaphor: and, universally, with all the just forms ofallusion. The union between theliteralandfigurativesense is so strict, that they run together in the imagination; and the effect of thefigureis only to let in fresh light and lustre on theliteralmeaning. But now, whentwo different, unconnected ideasare obtruded, at the same time upon us, the mind suffers a kind ofviolence and distraction, and is thereby put out of that natural state, in which it so much delights. To take the learned writer’s instance from Polybius: ΕΛΠΙΔΑ καὶ ΧΕΙΡΑ ΠΡΟΣΛΑΜΒΑΝΕΙΝ. How different is the idea ofcollecting forces, and of thatactof the mind, which we calltaking courage! These twoperceptionsare not only distinct from each other, but totally unconnected by anynaturalbond of relationship betwixt them. And yet the word ΠΡΟΣΛΑΜΒΑΝΕΙΝ must be seen in this double view, before we can take the full meaning of the historian.

2. This conjunction ofunrelatedideas, by the means of acommon term, agrees as ill to theend and genius of the writer’s composition, asthe natural bent and constitution of the mind. For the question is only about thegreater poetry, which addresses itself to thePASSIONS, orIMAGINATION. And, in either case, this play of words which Mr. Pope condemns, must be highly out of season.

When we are necessitated, as it were, to look different ways, and actually to contemplate two unconnected significations of the same word, before we can thoroughly comprehend its purpose, the mind is more amused by this fanciful conjunction of ideas, than is consistent with the artless, undesigning simplicity ofpassion. It disturbs and interrupts the flow ofaffection, by presenting this disparted image to thefancy. Again; wherefancyitself is solely addressed, as in thenobler descriptive species, this arbitrary assemblage of ideas is not less improper.For the poet’s business is now, to astonish or entertain the mind with a succession ofgreatorbeautifulimages. And the intervention of this juggler’s trick diverts the thought from contemplating its proper scenery. We should be admiring some glorious representation ofnature, and are stopped, on a sudden, to observe the writer’sart, whose ingenuity can fetch, out of one word, two such foreign and discrepant meanings.

In the lighter forms of poetry indeed, and more especially in theburlesque epic, this affectation has itsplace; as in that line of Mr. Pope, quoted by this critic;

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