THE WORKS OF VIRGIL: Containing His PASTORALS, GEORGICS, AND AENEIS.
Translated into English Verse; By Mr. DRYDEN.
Adorn'd with a Hundred Sculptures.
LONDON, Printed for Jacob Tonson, at the Judges-Head in Fleetstreet, near the Inner-Temple-Gate, MDCXCVII.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Hugh Lord Clifford, BARON of Chudleigh.
I HAVE found it not more difficult to Translate Virgil, than to find such Patrons as I desire for my Translation. For though England is not wanting in a Learned Nobility, yet such are my unhappy Circumstances, that they have confin'd me to a narrow choice. To the greater part, I have not the Honour to be known; and to some of them I cannot shew at present, by any publick Act, that grateful Respect which I shall ever bear them in my heart. Yet I have no reason to complain of Fortune, since in the midst of that abundance I could not possibly have chosen better, than the Worthy Son of so Illustrious a Father. He was the Patron of my Manhood, when I Flourish'd in the opinion of the World; though with small advantage to my Fortune, 'till he awaken'd the remembrance of my Royal Master. He was that Pollio, or that Varus, who introduc'd me to Augustus: And tho' he soon dismiss'd himself from State-Affairs, yet in the short time of his Administration he shone so powerfully upon me, that like the heat of a Russian-Summer, he ripen'd the Fruits of Poetry in a cold Clymate; and gave me wherewithal to subsist at least, in the long Winter which succeeded. What I now offer to your Lordship, is the wretched remainder of a sickly Age, worn out with Study, and oppress'd by Fortune: without other support than the Constancy and Patience of a Christian. You, my Lord, are yet in the flower of your Youth, and may live to enjoy the benefits of the Peace which is promis'd Europe: I can only hear of that Blessing: for Years, and, above all things, want of health, have shut me out from sharing in the happiness. The Poets, who condemn their Tantalus to Hell, had added to his Torments, if they had plac'd him in Elysium, which is the proper Emblem of my Condition. The Fruit and the Water may reach my Lips, but cannot enter: And if they cou'd, yet I want a Palate as well as a Digestion. But it is some kind of pleasure to me, to please [Page] those whom I respect. And I am not altogether out of hope, that these Pastorals of Virgil may give your Lordship some delight, though made English by one, who scarce remembers that Passion which inspir'd my Author when he wrote them. These were his first Essay in Poetry, (if the Ceiris was not his:) And it was more excusable in him to describe Love when he was young, than for me to Translate him when I am Old. He died at the Age of fifty two, and I began this Work in my great Clymacterique. But having perhaps a better constitution than my Author, I have wrong'd him less, considering my Circumstances, than those who have attempted him before, either in our own, or any Modern Language. And though this Version is not void of Errours, yet it comforts me that the faults of others are not worth finding. Mine are neither gross nor frequent, in those Eclogues, wherein my Master has rais'd himself above that humble Stile in which Pastoral delights, and which I must confefs is proper to the Education and Converse of Shepherds: for he found the strength of his Genius b [...]times, and was even in his youth preluding to his Georgics, and his Aeneis. He cou'd not forbear to try his Wings, though his Pinions were not harden'd to maintain a long laborious flight. Yet sometimes they bore him to a pitch as lofty, as ever he was able to reach afterwards. But when he was admonish'd by his subject to descend, he came down gently circling in the air, and singing to the ground. Like a Lark, melodious in her mounting, and continuing her Song 'till she alights: still preparing for a higher flight at her next sally, and tuning her voice to better musick. The Fourth, the Sixth, and the Eighth Pastorals, are clear Evidences of this truth. In the three first he contains himself within his bounds; but Addressing to Pollio, his great Patron, and himself no vulgar Poet, he no longer cou'd restrain the freedom of his Spirit, but began to assert his Native Character, which is sublimity. Putting himself under the conduct of the same Cumaean Sybil, whom afterwards he gave for a Guide to his Aeneas. 'Tis true he was sensible of his own boldness; and we know it by the Paulo Majora, which begins his Fourth Eclogue. He remember'd, like young Manlius, that he was forbidden to Engage; but what avails an express Command to a youthful Courage, which presages Victory in the attempt? Encourag'd with Success, he proceeds farther in the Sixth, and invades the Province of Philosophy. And notwithstanding that Phoebus had forewarn'd him of Singing Wars, as he there confesses, yet he presum'd that the search of Nature was as free to him as to Lucretius, who at his Age explain'd it according to the Principles of Epicurus. In his Eighth Eclogue, he has innovated nothing; the former part of it being the Complaint and Despair of a forsaken Lover: the latter, a Charm of an Enchantress, to renew a lost Affection. But the Complaint perhaps contains some Topicks which are above the Condition of his Persons; and our Author seems to have made his Herdsmen somewhat too Learn'd for their Profession: The Charms are also of the same nature, but both were Copied from Theocritus, and had receiv'd the applause of former Ages in their Original. There is a kind of Rusticity in all those pompous Verses; somewhat of a Holiday Shepherd strutting in his Country Buskins. The like may be observ'd, both in the Pollio, and the Silenus; where the Similitudes are drawn from the Woods and Meadows. They seem to me to represent our Poet betwixt a Farmer, and a Courtier, when he left Mantua for Rome, and drest himself in his best Habit to appear before his Patron: Somewhat too fine for the place from whence he came, and yet retaining part of its simplicity. In the Ninth Pastoral he Collects some Beautiful passages which were scatter'd in Theocritus, which he cou'd not insert into any of his former Eclogues, and yet [Page] was unwilling they shou'd be lost. In all the rest he is equal to his Sicilian Master, and observes like him a just decorum, both of the Subject, and the Persons. As particularly in the Third Pastoral; where one of his Shepherds describes a Bowl, or Mazer, curiously Carv'd.
He remembers only the name of Conon, and forgets the other on set purpose: (whether he means Anaximander or Eudoxus I dispute not,) but he was certainly forgotten, to shew his Country Swain was no great Scholar.
After all, I must confess that the Boorish Dialect of Theocritus has a secret charm in it, which the Roman Language cannot imitate, though Virgil has drawn it down as low as possibly he cou'd; as in the Cujum pecus, and some other words, for which he was so unjustly blam'd by the bad Criticks of his Age, who cou'd not see the Beauties of that merum Rus, which the Poet describ'd in those expressions. But Theocritus may justly be preferr'd as the Original, without injury to Virgil, who modestly contents himself with the second place, and glories only in being the first who transplanted Pastoral into his own Country; and brought it there to bear as happily as the Cherry-trees which Lucullus brought from Pontus.
Our own Nation has produc'd a third Poet in this kind, not inferiour to the two former. For the Shepherd's Kalendar of Spencer, is not to be match'd in any Modern Language. Not even by Tasso's Amynta, which infinitely transcends Guarinis's Pastor-Fido, as having more of Nature in it, and being almost wholly clear from the wretched affectation of Learning. I will say nothing of the Pifcatory Eclogues, because no modern Latin can bear Criticism. 'Tis no wonder that rolling down through so many barbarous Ages, from the Spring of Virgil, it bears along with it the filth and ordures of the Goths and Vandals. Neither will I mention Monsieur Fontinelle, the living Glory of the French. 'Tis enough for him to have excell'd his Master Lucian, without attempting to compare our miserable Age with that of Virgil, or Theocritus. Let me only add, for his reputation,
But Spencer being Master of our Northern Dialect; and skill'd in Chaucer's English, has so exactly imitated the Doric of Theocritus, that his Love is a perfect Image of that Passion which God infus'd into both Sexes, before it was corrupted with the Knowledge of Arts, and the Ceremonies of what we call good Manners.
My Lord, I know to whom I dedicate: And cou'd not have been induc'd by any motive to put this part of Virgil, or any other, into unlearned Hands. You have read him with pleasure, and I dare say, with admiration in the Latine, of which you are a Master. You have added to your Natural Endowments, which without flattery are Eminent, the superstructures of Study, and the knowledge of good Authors. Courage, Probity, and Humanity are inherent in you. These Vertues have ever been habitual to the Ancient House of Cumberland, from whence you are descended, and of which our Chronicles make so honourable mention in the long Wars betwixt the Rival Families of York and Lancaster. Your Forefathers have asserted the Party which they chose 'till death, and dy'd for its defence in the Fields of Battel. You have besides the fresh remembrance of your Noble Father; from whom you never can degenerate.
It being almost morally impossible for you to be other than you are by kind; I need neither praise nor incite your Vertue. You are acquainted with the Roman History, and know without my information that Patronage and Clientship always descended from the Fathers to the Sons; and that the same Plebeian Houses, had recourse to the same Patrician Line, which had formerly protected them: and follow'd their Principles and Fortunes to the last. So that I am your Lordship's by descent, and part of your Inheritance. And the natural inclination, which I have to serve you, adds to your paternal right, for I was wholly yours from the first moment, when I had the happiness and honour of being known to you. Be pleas'd therefore to accept the Rudiments of Virgil's Poetry: Coursely Translated I confess, but which yet retains some Beauties of the Author, which neither the barbarity of our Language, nor my unskilfulness cou'd so much sully, but that they appear sometimes in the dim mirrour which I hold before you. The Subject is not unsuitable to your Youth, which allows you yet to Love, and is proper to your present Scene of Life. Rural Recreations abroad, and Books at home, are the innocent Pleasures of a Man who is early Wise; and gives Fortune no more hold of him, than of necessity he must. 'Tis good, on some occasions to think beforehand as little as we can; to enjoy as much of the present as will not endanger our futurity; and to provide our selves of the Vertuoso's Saddle, which will be sure to amble, when the World is upon the hardest trott. What I humbly offer to your Lordship, is of this nature. I wish it pleasant, and am sure 'tis innocent. May you ever continue your esteem for Virgil; and not lessen it, for the faults of his Translatour; who is with all manner of Respect, and sense of Gratitude,
THE LIFE OF Pub. Virgilius Maro.
VIRGIL was born at Mantua, which City was built no less than Three Hundred Years before Rome; and was the Capital of the New Hetruria, as himself, no less Antiquary, than Poet, assures us. His Birth is said to have happen'd in the first Consulship of Pompey the Great, and Lic. Crassus; but since the Relater of this presently after contradicts himself; and Virgil's manner of Addressing to Octavius, implies a greater difference of Age than that of Seven Years, as appears by his First Pastoral, and other places; it is reasonable to set the Date of it something backward: And the Writer of his Life having no certain Memorials to work upon, seems to have pitched upon the two most Illustrious Consuls he could find about that time, to signalize the Birth of so Eminent a Man. But it is beyond all Question, that he was Born on, or near the Fifteenth of October. Which Day was kept Festival in honour of his Memory, by the Latin, as the Birth-Day of Homer was by the Greek Poets. And so near a resemblance there is, betwixt the Lives of these two famous Epic Writers, that Virgil seems to have follow'd the Fortune of the other, as well as the Subject and manner of his Writing. For Homer is said to have been of very mean Parents, such as got their Bread by Day-labour; so is Virgil. Homer is said to be Base Born; so is Virgil. The former to have been born in the open Air, in a Ditch, or by the Bank of a River; so is the latter. There was a Poplar Planted near the place of Virgil's Birth, which suddenly grew up to an unusual heighth and bulk, and to which the Superstitious Neighbourhood attributed marvellous Vertue. Homer had his Poplar too, as Herodotus relates, which was visited with great Veneration. Homer is describ'd by one of the Ancients, to have been of a slovenly and neglected Meen and Habit, so was Virgil. Both were of a very delicate and sickly Constitution: Both addicted to Travel, and the study of Astrology: Both had their Compositions usurp'd by others: Both Envy'd and traduc'd during their Lives. We know not so much as the true Names of either of them with any exactness: For the Criticks are not yet agreed how the word [Virgil] should be Written; and of Homer's Name there is no certainty at all. Whosoever [Page] shall consider this Parallel in so many particulars; (and more might be added) would be inclin'd to think, that either the same Stars Rul'd strongly at the Nativities of them both, or what is a great deal more probable; that the Latin Grammarians wanting Materials for the former part of Virgil's Life, after the Legendary Fashion, supply'd it out of Herodotus; and like ill Face-Painters, not being able to hit the true Features, endeavour'd to make amends by a great deal of impertinent Landscape and Drapery.
Without troubling the Reader with needless Quotations, now, or afterwards; the most probable Opinion is, that Virgil was the Son of a Servant, or Assistant to a wandring Astrologer; who practis'd Physic. For Medicus, Magus, as Juvenal observes, usually went together; and this course of Life was follow'd by a great many Greeks and Syrians; of one of which Nations it seems not improbable, that Virgil's Father was. Nor could a Man of that Profession have chosen a fitter place to settle in, than that most Superstitious Tract of Italy; which by her ridiculous Rites and Ceremonies as much enslav'd the Romans, as the Romans did the Hetrurians by their Arms. This Man therefore having got together some Money, which Stock he improv'd by his Skill in Planting and Husbandry, had the good Fortune, at last, to Marry his Masters Daughter, by whom he had Virgil; and this Woman seems, by her Mothers side, to have been of good Extraction; for she was nearly related to Quintilius Varus, whom Paterculus assures us to have been an Illustrious, tho' not Patrician Family; and there is honourable mention made of it in the History of the second Carthaginian War. It is certain, that they gave him very good Education, to which they were inclin'd; not so much by the Dreams of his Mother, and those presages which Donatus relates, as by the early indications which he gave of a sweet Disposition, and Excellent Wit. He passed the first Seven Years of his Life at Mantua, not Seventeen, as Scaliger miscorrects his Author; for the initia aetatis can hardly be supposed to extend so far. From thence he removed to Cremona, a Noble Roman Colony, and afterwards to Milan. In all which places he prosecuted his Studies with great application; he read over, all the best Latin, and Greek Authors, for which he had convenience by the no remote distance of Marseils, that famous Greek Colony, which maintain'd its Politeness, and Purity of Language, in the midst of all those Barbarous Nations amongst which it was seated: And some Tincture of the latter seems to have descended from them down to the Modern French. He frequented the most Eminent Professors of the Epicurean Philosophy, which was then much in vogue, and will be always in declining and sickly States. But finding no satisfactory Account from his Master Syron, he pass'd over to the Academick School, to which he adher'd the rest of his Life, and deserv'd, from a great Emperour, the Title of the Plato of Poets. He compos'd at leisure hours a great number of Verses, on various Subjects; and desirous rather of a great, than early Fame, he permitted his Kinsman, and Fellow-student Varus, to derive the Honour of one of his Tragedies to himself. Glory neglected in proper time and place, returns often with large Increase, and so he found it: For Varus afterwards prov'd a great Instrument of his Rise: In short, it was here that he form'd the Plan, and collected the Materials of all those excellent Pieces which he afterwards finish'd, or was forc'd to leave less perfect by his Death. But whether it were the Unwholsomness of his Native Air, [Page] of which he somewhere complains, or his too great abstinence, and Night-watchings at his Study, to which he was always addicted, as Augustus observes; or possibly the hopes of improving himself by Travel, he resolv'd to Remove to the more Southern Tract of Italy; and it was hardly possible for him not to take Rome in his Way; as is evident to any one who shall cast an Eye on the Map of Italy: And therefore the late French Editor of his Works is mistaken, when he asserts that he never saw Rome, 'till he came to Petition for his Estate: He gain'd the Acquaintance of the Master of the Horse to Octavius, and Cur'd a great many Diseases of Horses, by methods they had never heard of: It fell out, at the same time, that a very fine Colt, which promised great Strength and Speed, was presented to Octavius: Virgil assur'd them, that he came of a faulty Mare, and would prove a Jade, upon trial it was found as he had said; his Judgment prov'd right in several other instances, which was the more surprizing, bebecause the Romans knew least of Natural Causes of any civiliz'd Nation in the World: And those Meteors, and Prodigies which cost them incredible Sums to expiate, might easily have been accounted for, by no very profound Naturalist. It is no wonder, therefore, that Virgil was in so great Reputation, as to be at last Introduced to Octavius himself. That Prince was then at variance with Marc. Antony, who vex'd him with a great many Libelling Letters, in which he reproaches him with the baseness of his Parentage, that he came of a Scrivener, a Ropemaker, and a Baker, as Suetonius tells us: Octavius finding that Virgil had passed so exact a judgment upon the Breed of Dogs, and Horses, thought that he possibly might be able to give him some Light concerning his own. He took him into his Closet, where they continu'd in private a considerable time. Virgil was a great Mathematician, which, in the Sense of those times, took in Astrology: And if there be any thing in that Art, which I can hardly believe; if that be true which the Ingenious De le Chambre asserts confidently; that from the Marks on the Body, the Configuration of the Planets at a Nativity may be gathered, and the Marks might be told by knowing the Nativity, never had one of those Artists a fairer Opportunity to shew his skill, than Virgil now had; for Octavius had Moles upon his Body, exactly resembling the Constellation call'd Ʋrsa Major. But Virgil had other helps: The Predictions of Cicero, and Catulus, and that Vote of the Senate had gone abroad, that no Child Born at Rome, in the Year of his Nativity, should be bred up; because the Seers assur'd them that an Emperour was Born that Year. Besides this, Virgil had heard of the Assyrian, and Egyptian Prophecies, (which in truth, were no other but the Jewish,) that about that time a great King was to come into the World. Himself takes notice of them, Aen. 6. where he uses a very significant Word, (now in all Liturgies) hujus in adventu, so in another place, adventante Dea.
Every one knows whence this was taken: It was rather a mistake, than impiety in Virgil, to apply these Prophesies to the Person of Octavius, it being a usual piece of flattery for near a Hundred Years together, to attribute them to their Emperours, and other great Men. Upon the whole [Page] matter, it is very probable, that Virgil Predicted to him the Empire at this time. And it will appear yet the more, if we consider that he assures him of his being receiv'd into the Number of the Gods, in his First Pastoral, long before the thing came to pass; which Prediction seems grounded upon his former Mistake. This was a secret, not to be divulg'd at that time, and therefore it is no wonder that the slight Story in Donatus was given abroad to palliate the matter. But certain it is, that Octavius dismissed him with great Marks of esteem, and earnestly recommended the Protection of Virgil's Affairs to Pollio, then Lieutenant of the Cis-Alpine Gaule, where Virgil's Patrimony lay. This Pollio from a mean Original, became one of the most Considerable Persons of his time: A good General, Orator, States-man, Historian, Poet, and Favourer of Learned Men; above all, he was a Man of Honour in those critical times: He had join'd with Octavius, and Antony, in revenging the Barbarous Assassination of Julius Caesar: When they two were at variance, he would neither follow Antony, whose courses he detested, nor join with Octavius against him, out of a grateful Sense of some former Obligations. Augustus, who thought it his interest to oblige Men of Principles, notwithstanding this, receiv'd him afterwards into Favour, and promoted him to the highest Honours. And thus much I thought fit to say of Pollio, because he was one of Virgil's greatest Friends. Being therefore eas'd of Domestick cares, he pursues his Journey to Naples: The Charming situation of that Place, and view of the beautiful Villa's of the Roman Nobility, equalling the Magnificence of the greatest Kings; the Neighbourhood of the Baiae, whither the Sick resorted for recovery, and the States-man when he was Politickly Sick; whither the wanton went for Pleasure, and witty Men for good Company; the wholesomness of the Air, and improving Conversation, the best Air of all, contributed not only to the re-establishing his Health; but to the forming of his Style, and rendring him Master of that happy turn of Verse, in which he much surpasses all the Latins, and in a less advantageous Language, equals even Homer himself. He propos'd to use his Talent in Poetry, only for Scaffolding to Build a convenient Fortune, that he might Prosecute with less interruption, those Nobler Studies to which his elevated Genius led him, and which he describes in these admirable Lines.
But the current of that Martial Age, by some strange Antiperistasis drove so violently towards Poetry, that he was at lest carried down with the stream. For not only the Young Nobility, but Octavius, and Pollio, Cicero in his Old Age, Julius Caesar, and the Stoical Brutus, a little before, would needs be tampering with the Muses; the two latter had taken great care to have their Poems curiously bound, and lodg'd in the most famous Libraries; but neither the Sacredness of those places, nor the greatness of their Names, cou'd preserve ill Poetry. Quitting therefore the Study of the Law, after having pleaded but one Cause with indifferent Success, he resolv'd to push his Fortune this way, which he seems to have discontinu'd for some time, and that may be the reason why the [Page] Culex, his first Pastoral, now extant, has little besides the novelty of the Subject, and the Moral of the Fable, which contains an exhortation to gratitude, to recomend it; had it been as correct as his other pieces, nothing more proper and pertinent cou'd have at that time bin addressed to the Young Octavius, for the Year in which he Presented it, probably at the Baiae, seems to be the very same, in which that Prince consented (tho' with seeming reluctance) to the Death of Cicero, under whose Consulship he was Born, the preserver of his Life, and chief instrument of his advancement. There is no reason to question its being genuine, as the late French Editor does; its meaness, in comparison of Virgil's other Works, (which is that Writers only Objection) confutes himself: For Martial, who certainly saw the true Copy, speaks of it with contempt; and yet that Pastoral equals, at least, the address to the Dauphin which is prefix'd to the late Edition. Octavius, to unbend his mind from application to publick business, took frequent turns to Baiae, and Sicily; where he compos'd his Poem call'd Sicelides, which Virgil seems to allude to, in the Pastoral beginning Sicelides Musae; this gave him opportunity of refreshing that Princes Memory of him, and about that time he wrote his Aetna. Soon after he seems to have made a Voyage to Athens, and at his return presented his Ceiris, a more elaborate Piece, to the Noble and Eloquent Messala. The forementioned Author groundlesly taxes this as supposititious: For besides other Critical marks, there are no less than Fifty, or Sixty Verses, alter'd indeed and polish'd, which he inserted in the Pastorals, according to his fashion: and from thence they were called Eclogues, or Select Bucolics: We thought fit to use a Title more intelligible, the reason of the other being ceas'd; and we are supported by Virgil's own authority, who expresly calls them Carmina Pastorum. The French Editor is again mistaken, in asserting, that the Ceiris is borrow'd from the Ninth of Ovid's Metamorphosis; he might have more reasonably conjectur'd it, to be taken from Parthenius, the Greek Poet, from whom Ovid borrow'd a great part of his Work. But it is indeed taken from neither, but from that Learn'd, unfortunate Poet Apollonius Rhodius, to whom Virgil is more indebted, than to any other Greek Writer, excepting Homer. The Reader will be satisfied of this, if he consult that Author in his own Language, for the Translation is a great deal more obscure than the Original.
Whilst Virgil thus enjoy'd the sweets of a Learn'd Privacy, the Troubles of Italy cut off his little Subsistance; but by a strange turn of Human Affairs, which ought to keep good Men from ever despairing; the loss of his Estate prov'd the effectual way of making his Fortune. The occasion of it was this; Octavius, as himself relates, when he was but Nineteen Years of Age, by a Masterly stroke of Policy, had gain'd the Veteran Legions into his Service, (and by that step, out-witted all the Republican Senate:) They grew now very clamorous for their Pay: The Treasury being Exhausted, he was forc'd to make Assignments upon Land, and none but in Italy it self would content them. He pitch'd upon Cremona as the most distant from Rome; but that not suffising, he afterwards threw in part of the State of Mantua. Cremona was a Rich and noble Colony, setled a little before the Invasion of Hannibal. During that Tedious and Bloody War, they had done several important Services to the Common-Wealth. And when Eighteen other Colonies, pleading Poverty and Depopulation, refus'd to contribute Money, or to raise Recruits; they of Cremona voluntarily [Page] paid a double Quota of both: But past Services are a fruitless Plea; Civil Wars are one continued Act of Ingratitude: In vain did the Miserable Mothers, with their famishing Infants in their Arms, fill the Streets with their Numbers, and the Air with Lamentations; the Craving Legions were to be satisfi'd at any rate. Virgil, involv'd in the common Calamity, had recourse to his old Patron Pollio, but he was, at this time, under a Cloud; however, compassionating so worthy a Man, not of a make to struggle thro' the World, he did what he could, and recommended him to Mecaenas, with whom he still kept a private Correspondence. The Name of this great Man being much better known than one part of his Character, the Reader, I presume, will not be displeas'd if I supply it in this place.
Tho' he was of as deep Reach, and easie dispatch of Business as any in his time, yet he designedly liv'd beneath his true Character. Men had oftentimes medled in Publick Affairs, that they might have more ability to furnish for their Pleasures: Mecaenas, by the honestest Hypocrisie that ever was, pretended to a Life of Pleasure, that he might render more effectual Service to his Master. He seem'd wholly to amuse himself with the Diversions of the Town, but under that Mask he was the greatest Minister of his Age. He would be carried in a careless, effeminate posture thro' the Streets in his Chair, even to the degree of a Proverb, and yet there was not a Cabal of ill dispos'd Persons which he had not early notice of; and that too in a City as large as London and Paris, and perhaps two or three more of the most populous put together. No Man better understood that Art so necessary to the Great; the Art of declining Envy: Being but of a Gentleman's Family, not Patrician, he would not provoke the Nobility by accepting invidious Honours; but wisely satisfi'd himself that he had the Ear of Augustus, and the Secret of the Empire. He seems to have committed but one great Fault, which was the trusting a Secret of high Consequence to his Wife; but his Master, enough Uxorious himself, made his own Frailty more excusable, by generously forgiving that of his Favourite. He kept in all his Greatness exact measures with his Friends; and chusing them wisely, found, by Experience, that good Sense and Gratitude are almost inseparable. This appears in Virgil and Horace; the former, besides the Honour he did him to all Posterity, return'd his Liberalities at his Death: The other, whom Mecaenas recommended with his last Breath, was too generous to stay behind, and enjoy the Favour of Augustus: He only desir'd a place in his Tomb, and to mingle his Ashes with those of his deceased Benefactor. But this was Seventeen Hundred Years ago. Virgil, thus powerfully supported, thought it mean to Petition for himself alone, but resolutely solicits the Cause of his whole Country, and seems, at first, to have met with some Encouragement: But the matter cooling, he was forc'd to sit down contented with the Grant of his own Estate. He goes therefore to Mantua, produces his Warrant to a Captain of Foot, whom he found in his House; Arrius who had eleven Points of the Law, and fierce of the Services he had rendred to Octavius, was so far from yielding Possession, that words growing betwixt them, he wounded him dangerously, forc'd him to fly, and at last to swim the River Mincius to save his Life. Virgil, who us'd to say, that no Virtue was so necessary as Patience, was forc'd to drag a fick Body half the length of Italy, back again to Rome, and by the way, probably, compos'd his Ninth Pastoral, which may seem to have been [Page] made up in haste out of the Fragments of some other pieces; and naturally enough represents the disorder of the Poets Mind, by its disjointed Fashion, tho' there be another Reason to be given elsewhere of its want of Connexion. He handsomly states his Case in that Poem, and with the pardonable Resentments of Injur'd Innocence, not only claims Octavius's Promise, but hints to him the uncertainty of Human Greatness and Glory: All was taken in good part by that Wise Prince: At last effectual Orders were given: About this time, he Compos'd that admirable Poem, which is set first, out of respect to Caesar; for he does not seem either to have had leisure, or to have been in the Humour of making so solemn an Acknowledgment, 'till he was possess'd of the Benefit. And now he was in so great Reputation and Interest, that he resolved to give up his Land to his Parents, and himself to the Court. His Pastorals were in such Esteem, that Pollio, now again in high Favour with Caesar, desir'd him to reduce them into a Volume. Some Modern Writer, that has a constant flux of Verse, would stand amaz'd how Virgil could employ three whole Years in revising five or six hundred Verses, most of which, probably, were made some time before; but there is more reason to wonder how he could do it so soon in such Perfection. A course Stone is presently fashion'd; but a Diamond, of not many Karats, is many Weeks in Cutting, and in Polishing many more. He who put Virgil upon this, had a Politick good end in it.
The continu'd Civil Wars had laid Italy almost waste; the Ground was Uncultivated and Unstock'd; upon which ensu'd such a Famine, and Insurrection, that Caesar hardly scap'd being Ston'd at Rome; his Ambition being look'd upon by all Parties as the principal occasion of it. He set himself therefore with great Industry to promote Country-Improvements; and Virgil was serviceable to his Design, as the good keeper of the Bees, Georg. 4.
That Emperour afterwards thought it matter worthy a publick Inscription ‘Rediit cultus Agris.’ Which seems to be the motive that Induced Macaenas, to put him upon Writing his Georgics, or Books of Husbandry: A design as new in Latin Verse, as Pastorals, before Virgil were in Italy; which Work took up Seven of the most vigorous Years of his Life; for he was now at least Thirty four Years of Age; and here Virgil shines in his Meridian. A great part of this Work seems to have been rough-drawn before he left Mantua, for an Ancient Writer has observ'd that the Rules of Husbandry laid down in it, are better Calculated for the Soil of Mantua, than for the more Sunny Climate of Naples; near which place, and in Sicily, he finish'd it. But lest his Genius should be depressed by apprehensions of want, he had a good Estate settled upon him, and a House in the Pleasantest part of Rome; the Principal Furniture of which was a well-chosen Library, which stood open to all comers of Learning and Merit; and what recommended the situation of it most, was the Neighbourhood of his Mecaenas; and thus [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] he cou'd either visit Rome, or return to his Privacy at Naples, thro' a Pleasant Rode adorn'd on each side with pieces of Antiquity, of which he was so great a Lover, and in the intervals of them, seem'd almost one continu'd Street of three days Journey.
Caesar having now Vanquish'd Sextus Pompeius, a Spring-tide of Prosperities breaking in upon him, before he was ready to receive them as he ought, fell sick of the Imperial Evil, the desire of being thought something more than Man. Ambition is an infinite Folly: When it has attain'd to the utmost pitch of Humane Greatness, it soon falls to making pretensions upon Heaven. The crafty Livia would needs be drawn in the Habit of a Priestesse by the Shrine of the new God: And this became a Fashion not to be dispens'd with amongst the Ladies: The Devotion was wondrous great amongst the Romans, for it was their Interest, and, which sometimes avails more, it was the Mode. Virgil, tho' he despis'd the Heathen Superstitions, and is so bold as to call Saturn and Janus, by no better a Name than that of Old Men, and might deserve the Title of Subverter of Superstitions, as well as Varro, thought fit to follow the Maxim of Plato his Master; that every one should serve the Gods after the Usage of his own Country, and therefore was not the last to present his Incense, which was of too Rich a Composition for such an Altar: And by his Address to Caesar on this occasion, made an unhappy Precedent to Lucan and other Poets which came after him, Geor. 1. and 3. And this Poem being now in great forwardness, Caesar, who in imitation of his Predecessor Julius, never intermitted his Studies in the Camp, and much less in other places, refreshing himself by a short stay in a pleasant Village of Campania, would needs be entertained with the rehearsal of some part of it. Virgil recited with a marvellous Grace, and sweet Accent of Voice, but his Lungs failing him, Mecaenas himself supplied his place for what remained. Such a piece of condecension wou'd now be very surprizing, but it was no more than customary amongst Friends, when Learning pass'd for Quality. Lelius, the second Man of Rome in his time, had done as much for that Poet, out of whose Dross he would sometimes pick Gold; as himself said, when one found him reading Ennius: (the like he did by some Verses of Varro, and Pacuvius, Lucretius, and Cicero, which he inserted into his Works.) But Learned Men then liv'd easy and familiarly with the great: Augustus himself would sometimes sit down betwixt Virgil and Horace, and say jeastingly, that he sate betwixt Sighing and Tears, alluding to the Asthma of one, and Rheumatick Eyes of the other; he would frequently Correspond with them, and never leave a Letter of theirs unanswered: Nor were they under the constraint of formal Superscriptions in the beginning, nor of violent Superlatives at the close of their Letter: The invention of these is a Modern Refinement. In which this may be remarked, in passing, that (humble Servant) is respect, but (Friend) an affront, which notwithstanding implies the former, and a great deal more. Nor does true Greatness lose by such Familiarity; and those who have it not, as Mecaenas and Pollio had, are not to be accounted Proud, but rather very Discreet, in their Reserves. Some Play-house Beauties do wisely to be seen at a distance, and to have the Lamps twinckle betwixt them and the Spectators.
But now Caesar, who tho' he were none of the greatest Souldiers, was certainly the greatest Traveller, of a Prince, that had ever [Page] been, (for which Virgil so dexterously Complements him, Aeneid. 6.) takes a Voyage to Aegypt, and having happily finish'd that War, reduces that mighty Kingdom into the Form of a Province; over which he appointed Gallus his Lieutenant. This is the same Person to whom Virgil addresses his Tenth Pastoral; changing, in compliance to his Request, his purpose of limiting them to the number of the Muses. The Praises of this Gallus took up a considerable part of the Fourth Book of the Georgics, according to the general consent of Antiquity: But Caesar would have it put out, and yet the Seam in the Poem is still to be discern'd; and the matter of Aristaeus's recovering his Bees, might have been dispatched in less compass, without fetching the Causes so far, or interessing so many Gods and Goddesses in that Affair. Perhaps some Readers may be inclin'd to think this, tho' very much labour'd, not the most entertaining part of that Work; so hard it is for the greatest Masters to Paint against their Inclination. But Caesar was content he shou'd be mention'd in the last Pastoral, because it might be taken for a Satyrical sort of Commendation; and the Character he there stands under, might help to excuse his Cruelty, in putting an Old Servant to death for no very great Crime.
And now having ended, as he begins his Georgics, with solemn mention of Caesar, an Argument of his Devotion to him: He begins his Aeneis, according to the common account, being now turn'd of Forty. But that Work had been, in truth, the Subject of much earlier Meditation. Whil'st he was working upon the first Book of it, this p [...]ssage, so very remarkable in History, fell out, in which Virgil had a great share.
Caesar, about this time, either cloy'd with Glory, or terrifi'd by the Example of his Predecessor; or to gain the Credit of Moderation with the People, or possibly to feel the Pulse of his Friends, deliberated whether he should retain the Soveraign Power, or restore the Commonwealth. Agrippa, who was a very honest Man, but whose View was of no great extent, advis'd him to the latter; but Mecaenas, who had throughly studied his Master's Temper, in an Eloquent Oration, gave contrary Advice. That Emperour was too Politick to commit the over-sight of Cromwell, in a deliberation something resembling this. Cromwell had never been more desirous of the Power, than he was afterwards of the Title of King: And there was nothing, in which the Heads of the Parties, who were all his Creatures, would not comply with him: But by too vehement Allegation of Arguments against it, he, who had out-witted every body besides, at last out-witted himself, by too deep dissimulation: For his Council, thinking to make their Court by assenting to his judgment, voted unanimously for him against his Inclination; which surpriz'd and troubled him to such a degree, that as soon as he had got into his Coach, he fell into a Swoon. But Caesar knew his People better, and his Council being thus divided, he ask'd Virgil's Advice: Thus a Poet had the Honour of determining the greatest Point that ever was in Debate, betwixt the Son-in-Law, and Favourite of Caesar. Virgil deliver'd his Opinion in Words to this effect. The change of a Popular into an Absolute Government, has generally been of very ill Consequence: For betwixt the Hatred of the People, and Injustice of the Prince, it of necessity comes to pass that they live in distrust, and mutual Apprehensions. But if the Commons knew a just Person, whom they entirely consided in, it would be for the advantage of all Parties, that such a one should be their Soveraign: Wherefore if you shall continue to administer Justice impartially, as hitherto you have done, your Power will prove safe to your self, and beneficial [Page] to Mankind. This excellent Sentence, which seems taken out of Plato, (with whose Writings the Grammarians were not much acquainted, and therefore cannot reasonably be suspected of Forgery in this matter,) contains the true state of Affairs at that time: For the Commonwealth Maxims were now no longer practicable; the Romans had only the haughtiness of the Old Commonwealth left, without one of its Vi [...]tues. And this Sentence we find, almost in the same words, in the first Book of the Aeneis, which at this time he was writing; and one might wonder that none of his Commentators have taken notice of it. he Compares a Tempest to a Popular Insurrection, as Cicero had compar'd a Sedition to a Storm, a little before.
Piety and Merit were the two great Virtues which Virgil every where attributes to Augustus, and in which that Prince, at least Politickly, if not so truly, fix'd his Character, as appears by the Marmor Anc [...]. and several of his Medals. Franshemius, the Learn'd Supplementor of Livy, has inserted this Relation into his History; nor is there any good Reason, why Ruaeus should account it fabulous. The Title of a Poet in those days did not abate, but heighten the Character of the gravest Senator. Virgil was one of the best and wisest Men of his time, and in so popular esteem, that one hundred Thousand Romans rose when he came into the Theatre, and paid him the same Respect they us'd to Caesar himself, as Tacitus assures us. And if Augustus invited Horace to assist him in Writing his Letters, and every body knows that the rescripta Imperatorum were the Laws of the Empire; Virgil might well deserve a place in the Cabinet-Council.
And now Virgil prosecutes his Aeneis, which had Anciently the Title of the Imperial Poem, or Roman History, and deservedly; for though he were too Artful a Writer to set down Events in exact Historical order, for which Lucan is justly blam'd; yet are all the most considerable Affairs and Persons of Rome compriz'd in this Poem. He deduces the History of Italy from before Saturn to the Reign of King Latinus; and reckons up the Successors of Aeneas, who Reign'd at Alba, for the space of three hundred Years, down to the Birth of Romulus; describes the Persons and principal Exploits of all the Kings, to their Expulsion, and the settling of the Commonwealth. After this, he touches promiscuously the most remarkable Occurrences at home and abroad, but insists more particularly upon the Exploits of Augustus; insomuch, that tho' this Assertion may appear, at first, a little surprizing; he has in his Works deduc'd the History of a considerable part of the World from its Original, thro' the Fabulous and Heroick Ages, thro' the Monarchy and Commonwealth of Rome, for the space of four Thousand Years, down to within less than Forty of our Saviour's time, of whom he has preserv'd a most Illustrious Prophecy. Besides this, he points at many remarkable Passages of History under seign'd Names: the destruction of Alba, and Veii, under that of Troy: The Star Venus, which, Varro says, guided Aeneas in his Voyage to Italy, in that Verse,
Romulus his Lance taking Root, and Budding, is describ'd in that Passage concerning Polydorus, lib. 3.
The Stratagem of the Trojans boring Holes in their Ships, and sinking them, left the Latins should Burn them, under that Fable of their being transform'd into Sea-Nymphs: And therefore the Ancients had no such Reason to condemn that Fable as groundless and absurd. Cocles swimming the River Tyber, after the Bridge was broken down behind him, is exactly painted in the Four last Verses of the Ninth Book, under the Character of Turnus. Marius hiding himself in the Morass of Minturnae, under the Person of Sinon:
Those Verses in the Second Book concerning Priam;
seem originally made upon Pompey the Great. He seems to touch the Imperious, and Intriguing Humour of the Empress Livia, under the Character of Juno. The irresolute and weak Lepidus is well represented under the Person of King Latinus; Augustus with the Character of Pont. Max. under that of Aeneas; and the rash Courage (always Unfortunate in Virgil) of Marc Anthony in Turnus; the railing Eloquence of Cicero in his Phillipics is well imitated in the Oration of Drances; the dull faithful Agrippa, under the person of Achates; accordingly this Character is flat: Achates kills but one Man, and himself receives one slight Wound, but neither says nor does any thing very considerable in the whole Poem. Curio, who sold his Country for about Two hundred Thousand Pound, is touch'd in that Verse.
Livy relates that presently after the death of the two Scipio's in Spain, when Martius took upon him the Command, a Blazing Meteor shone around his Head, to the astonishment of his Souldiers: Virgil transfers this to Aeneas.
It is strange that the Commentators have not taken notice of this. Thus the ill Omen which happen'd a little before the Battel of Thrasimen, when some of the Centurions Lances took Fire miraculously, is hinted in the like accident which befel Acestes, before the Burning of the Trojan Fleet in Sicily. The Reader will easily find many more such Instances. In other Writers there is often well cover'd Ignorance; in Virgil, conceal'd Learning.
His silence of some Illustrious Persons is no less worth observation. He says nothing of Scaevola, because he attempted to Assassinate a King, tho' a declar'd Enemy. Nor of the Younger Brutus; for he effected what the other endeavour'd. Nor of the Younger Cato, because he was an implacable Enemy of Julius Caesar; nor could the mention of him be pleasing to Augustus; and that Passage
may relate to his Office, as he was a very severe Censor. Nor would he name Cicero, when the occasion of mentioning him came full in his way; when he speaks of Catiline; because he afterwards approv'd the Murder of Caesar, tho' the Plotters were too wary to trust the Orator with their Design. Some other Poets knew the Art of Speaking well; but Virgil, beyond this, knew the admirable Secret of being eloquently silent. Whatsoever was most curious in Fabius Pictor, Cato the Elder, Varro, in the Aegyptian Antiquities, in the Form of Sacrifice, in the Solemnities [Page] of making Peace and War, is preserv'd in this Poem. Rome is still above ground, and flourishing in Virgil. And all this he does with admirable brevity. The Aeneis was once near twenty times bigger than he left it; so that he spent as much time in blotting out, as some Moderns have done in Writing whole Volumes. But not one Book has his finishing Strokes: The sixth seems one of the most perfect, the which, after long entreaty, and sometimes threats of Augustus, he was at last prevail'd upon to recite: This fell out about four Years before his own Death: That of Marcellus, whom Caesar design'd for his Successor, happen'd a little before this Recital: Virgil therefore with his usual dexterity, inserted his Funeral Panegyrick in those admirable Lines, beginning,
His Mother, the Excellent Octavia, the best Wife of the worst Husband that ever was, to divert her Grief, would be of the Auditory. The Poet artificially deferr'd the naming Marcellus, 'till their Passions were rais'd to the highest; but the mention of it put both Her and Augustus into such a Passion of weeping, that they commanded him to proceed no further; Virgil answer'd, that he had already ended that Passage. Some relate, that Octavia fainted away; but afterwards she presented the Poet with two Thousand one Hundred Pounds, odd Money; a round Sum for Twenty Seven Verses. Another Writer says, that with a Royal Magnificence, she order'd him Massy Plate, unweigh'd, to a great value.
And now he took up a Resolution of Travelling into Greece, there to set the last Hand to this Work; purposing to devote the rest of his Life to Philosophy, which had been always his principal Passion. He justly thought it a foolish Figure for a grave Man to be over-taken by Death, whilst he was weighing the Cadence of Words, and measuring Verses; unless Necessity should constrain it, from which he was well secur'd by the liberality of that I earned Age. But he was not aware, that whilst he allotted three Years for the Revising of his Poem, he drew Bills upon a failing Bank: For unhappily meeting Augustus at Athens, he thought himself oblig'd to wait upon him into Italy, but being desirous to see all he could of the Greek Antiquities, he fell into a languishing Distemper at Megara; this, neglected at first, prov'd Mortal. The agitation of the Vessel, for it was now Autumn, near the time of his Birth, brought him so low, that he could hardly reach Brindisi. In his Sickness he frequently, and with great importunity, call'd for his Scrutore, that he might Burn his Aeneis, but Augustus interposing by his Royal Authority, he made his last Will, of which something shall be said afterwards. And considering probably how much Homer had been disfigur'd by the Arbitrary Compilers of his Works, oblig'd Tucca and Varius to add nothing, nor so much as fill up the Breaks he left in his Poem. He order'd that his Bones should be carried to Naples, in which place he had pass'd the most agreeable part of his Life. Augustus, not only as Executor, and Friend, but according to the Duty of the Pont. Max. when a Funeral happen'd in his Family, took care himself to see the Will punctually executed. He went out of the World with all that calmness of Mind with which the Ancient Writer of his Life says he came into it. Making the Inscription of his Monument himself; for he began and ended his Poetical Compositions with an Epitaph. And this he made exactly according to the Law of his Master Plato on such occasions, without the least oftentation.
HE was of a very swarthy Complexion, which might proceed from the Southern Extraction of his Father, tall and wide-shoulder'd, so that he may be thought to have describ'd himself under the Character of Musaeus, whom he calls the best of Poets.
His Sickliness, Studies, and the Troubles he met with, made his Hair gray before the usual time; he had an hesitation in his Speech, as many other great Men: It being rarely found that a very fluent Elocution, and depth of judgment meet in the same Person. His Aspect and Behaviour rustick, and ungraceful: And this defect was not likely to be rectify'd in the place where he first liv'd, nor afterwards, because the weakness of his Stomach would not permit him to use his Exercises; he was frequently troubled with the Head-ach, and spitting of Blood; spare of Dyet, and hardly drank any Wine. Bashful to a fault; and when People crouded to see him, he would slip into the next Shop, or by-passage, to avoid them. As this Character could not recommend him to the fair Sex; he seems to have as little consideration for them as Euripides himself. There is hardly the Character of one good Woman to be found in his Poems: He uses the Word [Mulier] but once in the whole Aeneis, then too by way of Contempt, rendring literally a piece of a Verse out of Homer. In his Pastorals he is full of invectives against Love: In the Georgics he appropriates all the rage of it to the Females. He makes Dido, who never deserv'd that Character, Lustful and Revengeful to the utmost degree; so as to dye devoting her Lover to destruction; so changeable, that the Destinies themselves could not fix the time of her Death. But Iris, the Emblem of Inconstancy, must determine it. Her Sister is something worse. He is so far from passing such a Complement upon Helen, as the grave Old Councellour in Homer does, after nine Years War, when upon the sight of her he breaks out into this Rapture in the presence of King Priam,
Virgil is so far from this complaisant Humour, that his Heroe falls into an unmanly and ill-tim'd deliberation, whether he should not kill her in a Church; which directly contradicts what Deiphobus says of her, Aeneid 6. in that place where every body tells the truth. He transfers the dogged Silence of Ajax his Ghost, to that of Dido; tho' that be no very natural Character to an injur'd Lover, or a Woman. He brings in the Trojan Matrons setting their own Fleet on Fire; and running afterwards, like Witches on their Sabbat, into the Woods. He bestows indeed some Ornaments upon the Character of Camilla; but soon abates his Favour, by calling her aspera & horrenda Virgo: He places her in the Front of the line for an ill Omen of the Battel, as one of the Ancients has observ'd; (we may observe, on this occasion, it is an Art peculiar to Virgil, to intimate the Event by some preceding Accident.) He hardly ever describes the rising of the Sun, but with some circumstance which foresignifies the Fortune of the Day. For instance, when Aeneas leaves Africa and Queen Dido, he thus describes the fatal Morning:
[And for the Remark, we stand indebted to the curious Pencil of Pollio.] The Mourning Fields (Aeneid. 6.) are crowded with Ladies of a lost Reputation: [Page] Hardly one Man gets admittance, and that is Caeneus, for a very good Reason. Latinus his Queen is turbulent, and ungovernable, and at last hangs her self: And the fair Lavinia is disobedient to the Oracle, and to the King, and looks a little flickering after Turnus. I wonder at this the more, because Livy represents her as an excellent Person, and who behav'd her self with great Wisdom in her Regency during the minority of her Son: So that the Poet has done her Wrong, and it reflects on her Posterity. His Goddesses make as ill a Figure; Juno is always in a rage, and the Fury of Heaven: Venus grows so unreasonably confident, as to ask her Husband to forge Arms for her Bastard Son; which were enough to provoke one of a more Phlegmatick Temper than Vulcan was. Notwithstanding all this raillery of Virgil's, he was certainly of a very Amorous disposition, and has describ'd all that is most delicate in the Passion of Love; but he Conquer'd his natural Inclinations by the help of Philosophy; and refin'd it into Friendship, to which he was extreamly sensible. The Reader will admit of or reject the following Conjecture, with the free leave of the Writer, who will be equally pleas'd either way. Virgil had too great an Opinion of the Influence of the Heavenly Bodies: An Ancient Writer says, that he was born under the Sign of Virgo, with which Nativity perhaps he pleas'd himself, and would exemplifie her Vertues in his Life. Perhaps it was thence that he took his Name of Virgil and Parthenias, which does not necessarily signifie Base-born. Donatus, and Servius, very good Grammarians, give a quite contrary sense of it. He seems to make allusion to this Original of his Name in that Passage,
And this may serve to illustrate his Complement to Caesar, in which he invites him into his own Constellation,
Thus placing him betwixt Justice and Power, and in a Neighbour Mansion to his own; for Virgil suppos'd Souls to ascend again to their proper Stars. Being therefore of this Humour, it is no wonder that he refus'd the Embraces of the Beautiful Plotia, when his indiscreet Friend almost threw her into his Arms.
But however he stood affected to the Ladies, there is a dreadful Accusation brought against him for the most unnatural of all Vices, which by the Malignity of Humane nature has found more Credit in latter times than it did near his own. This took not its rise so much from the Alexis, in which Pastoral there is not one immodest Word; as from a sort of ill-nature, that will not let any one be without the imputation of some Vice; and principally because he was so strict a follower of Socrates and Plato. In order therefore to his Vindication, I shall take the matter a little higher.
The Cretans were Anciently much addicted to Navigation, insomuch that it became A Greek Proverb, (tho' omitted, I think, by the Industrious Erasmus,) A Cretan that does not know the Sea. Their Neighbourhood gave them occasion of frequent Commerce with the Phaenicians, that accursed People, who infected the Western World with endless Superstitions, and gross immoralities. From them it is probable, that the Cretans learn'd this infamous Passion, to which they were so much addicted, that Cicero remarks, in his Book de Rep. that it was a disgrace for a young Gentleman to be without Lovers. Socrates, who was a great Admirer of the Cretan Constitutions, set his excellent Wit to find out some good Cause, and Use of this Evil Inclination, and therefore gives an Account, wherefore [Page] Beauty is to be lov'd, in the following Passage; for I will not trouble the Reader, weary perhaps already with a long Greek Quotation. There is but one Eternal, Immutable, Ʋniform Beauty; in contemplation of which, our Soveraign Happiness does consist: And therefore a true Lover considers Beauty and Proportion as so many Steps and Degrees, by which he may ascend from the particular to the general, from all that is lovely of Feature, or regular in Proportion, or charming in Sound, to the general Fountain of all Beauty and Perfection. And if you are so much transported with the sight of Beautiful Persons, as to wish neither to Eat or drink, but pass your whole Life in looking on them; to what extasie would it raise you to behold the Original Beauty, not fill'd up with Flesh and Blood, or varnish'd with a fading mixture of Colours, and the rest of Mortal Trifles and Fooleries, but separate, unmix'd, uniform, and divine, &c. Thus far Socrates, in a strain, much beyond the Socrate Crētien of Mr. Balsac: And thus that admirable Man lov'd his Phoedon, his Charmides, and Theatetus; and thus Virgil lov'd his Alexander, and Cebes, under the feign'd Name of Alexis: He receiv'd them illiterate, but return'd them to their Masters, the one a good Poet, and the other an excellent Grammarian: And to prevent all possible Misinterpretations, he warily inserted into the liveliest Episode in the whole Aeneis, these words,
And in the Sixth, Quique pii vates. He feems fond of the Words, castus, pius, Virgo, and the Compounds of it; and sometimes stretches the Use of that word further than one would think he reasonably should have done, as when he attributes it to Pasiphaé her self.
Another Vice he is Tax'd with, is Avarice; because he dy'd Rich, and so indeed he did in comparison of modern Wealth; his Estate amounts to near Seventy Five Thousand Pounds of our Money: But Donatus does not take notice of this as a thing extraordinary; nor was it esteem'd so great a Matter, when the Cash of a great part of the World lay at Rome; Antony himself bestow'd at once Two Thousand Acres of Land in one of the best Provinces of Italy, upon a ridiculous Poet, who is nam'd by Cicero and Virgil. A late Cardinal us'd to purchase ill flattery at the Expence of 100000 Crowns a Year. But besides Virgil's other Benefactors, he was much in favour with Augustus, whose Bounty to him had no limits, but such as the Modesty of Virgil prescrib'd to it. Before he had made his own Fortune, he setled his Estate upon his Parents and Brothers; sent them Yearly large Sums, so that they liv'd in great Plenty and Respect; and at his Death, divided his Estate betwixt Duty and Gratitude, leaving one half to his Relations, and the other to Mecenas, to Tucca and Varius, and a considerable Legacy to Augustus, who had introduc'd a politick Fashion of being in every bodies Will; which alone was a fair Revenue for a Prince. Virgil shews his detestation of this Vice, by placing in the front of the Damn'd those who did not relieve their Relations and Friends; for the Romans hardly ever extended their Liberality further; and therefore I do not remember to have met in all the Latin Poets, one Character so noble as that short one in Homer.
On the other hand, he gives a very advanc'd place in Elysium to good Patriots, &c. Observing in all his Poem, that Rule so Sacred amongst the Romans, That there shou'd be no Art allow'd, which did not tend to the improvement of the People in Virtue. And this was the Principle too of our Excellent Mr. Waller, who us'd to say that he wou'd raze any Line out of his Poems, which did not imply some Motive to Virtue; but he was unhappy in the choice of the Subject of his admirable vein in Poetry. The [Page] Countess of C. was the Helen of her Country. There is nothing in Pagan Philosophy more true, more just, and regular than Virgil's Ethics; and it is hardly possible to sit down to the serious perusual of his Works, but a Man shall rise more dispos'd to virtue and goodness, as well as most agreeably entertain'd. The contrary to which disposition, may happen sometimes upon the reading of Ovid, of Martial, and several other second rate Poets. But of the Craft and Tricking part of Life, with which Homer abounds, there is nothing to be found in Virgil; and therefore Plato, who gives the former so many good words, perfumes, Crowns, but at last Complementally Banishes him his Commonwealth, wou'd have intreated Virgil to stay with him, (if they had liv'd in the same Age,) and intrusted him with some important Charge in his Government. Thus was his Life as chast as his Stile, and those who can Critick his Poetry, can never find a blemish in his Manners; and one would rather wish to have that purity of Mind, which the Satyrist himself attributes to him; that friendly disposition, and evenness of temper, and patience, which he was Master of in so eminent a degree, than to have the honour of being Author of the Aeneis, or even of the Georgics themselves.
Having therefore so little relish for the usual amusements of the world, he prosecuted his Studies without any considerable interruption, during the whole course of his Life, which one may reasonably conjecture to have been something longer than 52 years; and therefore it is no wonder that he became the most general Scholar that Rome ever bred, unless some one should except Varro. Besides the exact knowledge of Rural Affairs, he understood Medicine, to which Profession he was design'd by his Parents. A Curious Florist, on which Subject one wou'd wish he had writ, as he once intended: So profound a Naturalist, that he has solv'd more Phaenomena of Nature upon sound Principles, than Aristotle in his Physics. He studied Geometry, the most opposite of all Sciences to a Poetick Genius, and Beauties of a lively imagination; but this promoted the order of his Narrations, his propriety of Language, and clearness of Expression, for which he was justly call'd the Pillar of the Latin Tongue. This Geometrical Spirit was the cause, that to fill up a Verse he would not insert one superfluous word; and therefore deserves that Character which a Noble and Judicious Critick has given him, *Essay of Poetry. That he never says too little nor too much. Nor cou'd any one ever fill up the Verses he left imperfect. There is one supply'd near the beginning of the First Book; Virgil left the Verse thus.
the rest is none of Virgil's.
He was so good a Geographer, that he has not only left us the finest description of Italy that ever was; but besides, was one of the few Ancients who knew the true System of the Earth, its being Inhabited round about under the Torrid Zone, and near the Poles. Metrodorus, in his five Books of the Zones, justifies him from some Exceptions made against him by Astronomers. His Rhetorick was in such general esteem, that Lectures were read upon it in the Reign of Tiberius, and the Subject of Declamations taken out of him. Pollio himself, and many other Ancients Commented him. His Esteem degenerated into a kind of Superstition. The known Story of Mr. Cowley is an instance of it. But the sortes Virgilianae were condemn'd by St. Augustin, and other Casuists. Abienus, by an odd Design, put all Virgil and Livy into Iambick Verse; and the Pictures of those two were hung in the most Honourable place of Publick Libraries, and the Design of taking them down, and destroying Virgil's Works, was look'd upon as one of the most Extravagant amongst the many Brutish Frenzies of Caligula.
PREFACE TO THE PASTORALS, With a short DEFENCE of VIRGIL, Against some of the Reflections of Monsieur Fontanelle.
AS the Writings of greatest Antiquity are in Verse, so of all sorts of Poetry, Pastorals seem the most Ancient; being form'd upon the Model of the First Innocence, and Simplicity, which the Moderns, better to dispence themselves from imitating, have wisely thought fit to treat as Fabulous, and impracticable; and yet they, by obeying the unsophisticated Dictates of Nature, enjoy'd the most valuable Blessings of Life; a vigorous Health of Body, with a constant serenity, and freedom of Mind, whilst we, with all our fanciful Refinements, can scarcely pass an Autumn without some access of a Feaver, or a whole Day, not ruffled by some unquiet Passion. He was not then look'd upon as a very Old Man; who reach'd to a greater Number of Years, than in these times an ancient Family can reasonably pretend to; and we know the Names of several, who saw, and practis'd the World for a longer space of time, than we can read the Account of in any one entire Body of History. In short, they invented the most useful Arts, Pastorage, Tillage, Geometry, Writing, Musick, Astronomy, &c. Whilst the Moderns, like Extravagant Heirs, made rich by their Industry, ingratefully deride the good Old Gentlemen, who left them the Estate. It is not therefore to be wonder'd at, that Pastorals are fallen into Disesteem, together with that Fashion of Life, upon which they were grounded. And methinks, I see the Reader already uneasie at this Part of Virgil, counting the Pages, and posting to the Aeneis; so delightful an entertainment is the very Relation of publick Mischief, and slaughter, now become to Mankind: and yet Virgil pass'd a much different judgment on his own Works: He valu'd most this part, and his Georgics, and depended upon them for his Reputation with Posterity: But Censures himself in one of his Letters to Augustus, for medling with Heroics, the Invention of a degenerating Age. This is the Reason that the Rules of Pastoral, are so little known or studied. Aristotle, Horace, and the Essay of Poetry, take no notice of it. And Mr. Boileau, one of the most accurate of the Moderns, because he never loses the Ancients out of his Sight, bestows scarce half a Page on it. [Page] It is the Design therefore of the few following pages, to clear this sort of Writing from vulgar Prejudices; to vindicate our Author from some unjust Imputations; to look into some of the Rules of this sort of Poetry, and Enquire what sort of Versification is most proper for it, in which point we are so much inferiour to the Ancients; that this Consideration alone, were enough to make some Writers think as they ought, that is, Meanly, of their own Performances.
As all sorts of Poetry consist in imitation; Pastoral is the imitation of a Shepherd consider'd under that Character: It is requisite therefore to be a little inform'd of the Condition, and Qualification of these Shepherds.
One of the Ancients has observ'd truly, but Satyrically enough, that Mankind is the Measure of every thing: And thus by a gradual improvement of this mistake, we come to make our own Age and Countrey the Rule and Standard of others, and our selves at last the measure of them all. We figure the Ancient Countrey-men like our own, leading a painful Life in Poverty and Contempt, without Wit, or Courage, or Education: But Men had quite different Notions of these things, for the first four Thousand Years of the World; Health and Strength were then in more esteem than the refinements of Pleasure; and it was accounted a great deal more Honourable to Till the Ground, or keep a Flock of Sheep, than to dissolve in Wantonness, and effeminating Sloath. Hunting has now an Idea of Quality join'd to it, and is become the most important Business in the Life of a Gentleman; Antiently it was quite otherways. Mr. Fleury has severely remark'd, that this Extravagant Passion for Hunting is a strong Proof of our Gothic Extraction, and shews an affinity of Humour with the Savage Americans. The Barbarous Franks and other Germans, (having neither Corn, nor Wine of their own growth,) when they pass'd the Rhine, and possess'd themselves of Countreys better Cultivated, left the Tillage of the Land to the Old Proprietors; and afterwards did hazard their Lives as freely for their Diversion, as they had done before for their necessary subsistance. The English gave this Ʋsage the Sacred stamp of Fashion, and from hence it is that most of our Terms of Hunting are French. The Reader will, I hope, give me his Pardon for my freedom on this Subject, since an ill Accident, occasion'd by Hunting, has kept England in pain, these several Months together, for one of the best, and greatest Peers which she has bred for some Ages; no less Illustrious for Civil Vertues, and Learning, than his Ancestors were for all their Victories in France.
But there are some Prints still left of the Ancient Esteem for Husbandry and their plain Fashion of Life in many of our Sir-Names, and in the Escutcheons of the most Ancient Families, even those of the greatest Kings, the Roses, the Lillies, the Thistle, &c. It is generally known, that one of the principal Causes of the Deposing of Mahomet the 4th, was, that he would not allot part of the Day to some manual Labour, according to the Law of Mahomet, and Ancient Practice of his Predecessors. He that reflects on this will be the less surpriz'd to find that Charlemaign Eight Hundred Years ago, order'd his Children to be instructed in some Profession. And Eight Hundred Years yet higher, that Augustus wore no Cloaths but such as were made by the Hands of the Empress, and her Daughters; and Olympias did the same for Alexander the Great. Nor will he wonder that the Romans, in great exigency, sent for their Dictator from the Plow, whose whole Estate was but of Four Acres; too little a spot now for the Orchard, or Kitchin-Garden of a Private Gentleman. It is commonly known, that the Founders of three the most renown'd Monarchies in the World, were Shepherds: And the Subject of Husbandry has been adorn'd [Page] by the Writings and Labour of more than twenty Kings. It ought not therefore to be matter of surprize to a Modern Writer, that Kings, the Shepherds of the People in Homer, laid down their first Rudiments in tending their mute Subjects; nor that the Wealth of Ulysses consisted in Flocks and Herds, the Intendants over which, were then in equal esteem with Officers of State in latter times. And therefore Eumaeus is call'd [...] in Homer; not so much because Homer was a lover of a Countrey Life, to which he rather seems averse, but by reason of the Dignity and Greatness of his Trust, and because he was the Son of a King, stollen away, and Sold by the Phaenician Pyrates, which the Ingenious Mr. Cowley seems not to have taken notice of. Nor will it seem strange, that the Master of the Horse to King Latinus, in the Ninth Aeneid, was found in the homely Employment of cleaving Blocks, when news of the first Skirmish betwixt the Trojans and Latins was brought to him.
Being therefore of such Quality, they cannot be suppos'd so very ignorant and unpolish'd; the Learning and good breeding of the World was then in the hands of such People. He who was chosen by the consent of all Parties to arbitrate so delicate an affair, as which was the fairest of the three Celebrated Beauties of Heaven; he who had the address to debauch away Helen from her Husband, her Native Country, and from a Crown, understood what the French call by the too soft name of Gallantry; he had Accomplishments enough, how ill use soever he made of them. It seems therefore that Mr. F. had not duly consider'd the matter, when he reflected so severely upon Virgil, as if he had not observ'd the Laws of decency in his Pastorals, in making Shepherds speak to things beside their Character, and above their Capacity. He stands amaz'd that Shepherds should thunder out, as he expresses himself, the formation of the World, and that too according to the System of Epicurus. In truth, says he, page 176. I cannot tell what to make of this whole piece; (the Sixth Past.) I can neither comprehend the Design of the Author, nor the Connexion of the parts; first come the Ideas of Philosophy, and presently after those incoherent Fables, &c. To expose him yet more, he subjoyns, it is Silenus himself who makes all this absurd Discourse. Virgil says indeed that he had drank too much the day before; perhaps the Debauch hung in his head when he compos'd this Poem, &c. Thus far Mr. F. who, to the disgrace of Reason, as himself ingenuously owns, first built his House, and then studied Architecture; I mean first Compos'd his Eclogues, and then studied the Rules. In answer to this, we may observe, first, that this very Pastoral which he singles out to triumph over, was recited by a Famous Player on the Roman Theatre, with marvellous applause; insomuch that Cicero who had heard part of it only, order'd the whole to be rehears'd, and struck with admiration of it, conferr'd then upon Virgil the Glorious Title of ‘Magnae spes alterae Romae.’ Nor is it Old Donatus only who relates this, we have the same account from another very Credible and Ancient Author; so that here we have the judgment of Cicero, and the People of Rome, to confront the single Opinion of this adventrous Critick. A Man ought to be well assur'd of his own Abilities, before he attack an Author of establish'd Reputation. If Mr. F. had perus'd the fragments of the Phaenician Antiquity, trac'd the progress of Learning thro' the Ancient Greek Writers, or so much as Consulted his Learned Countrey-Man Huetius, he would have found, (which [Page] falls out unluckily for him) that a Chaldaean Shepherd discover'd to the Aegyptians and Greeks the Creation of the World. And what Subject more fit for such a Pastoral, than that Great Affair which was first notified to the World by one of that Profession? Nor does it appear, (what he takes for granted) that Virgil describes the Original of the World according to the Hypothesis of Epicurus; he was too well seen in Antiquity to commit such a gross Mistake; there is not the least mention of Chance in that whole passage, nor of the Clinamen Principiorum, so peculiar to Epicurus's Hypothesis. Virgil had not only more Piety, but was of too nice a Judgment to introduce a God denying the Power and Providence of the Deity, and singing a Hymn to the Atoms, and Blind Chance. On the contrary, his Description agrees very well with that of Moses; and the Learn'd Commentator D'Acier, who is so confident that Horace had perus'd the Sacred History, might with greater Reason have affirm'd the same thing of Virgil. For, besides that Famous Passage in the Sixth Aeneid, (by which this may be illustrated,) where the word Principio is us'd in the front of both by Moses and Virgil, and the Seas are first mention'd, and the Spiritus intus alit, which might not improbably, as Mr. D'Acier would suggest, allude to the Spirit moving upon the face of the Waters; But omitting this parallel place, the successive formation of the World is evidently describ'd in these words,
And 'tis hardly possible to render more literally that verse of Moses,
Let the Waters be gathered into one place, and let the dry Land appear, than in this of Virgil,
After this the formation of the Sun is describ'd (exactly in the Mosaical order,) and next the production of the first Living Creatures, and that too in a small number, (still in the same method.)
And here the foresaid Author would probably remark, that Virgil keeps more exactly to the Mosaick System, than an Ingenious Writer, who will by no means allow Mountains to be coaeval with the World. Thus much will make it probable at least, that Virgil had Moses in his thoughts rather than Epicurus, when he compos'd this Poem. But it is further remarkable, that this passage was taken from a Song attributed to Apollo, who himself too unluckily had been a Shepherd, and he took it from another yet more ancient, compos'd by the first Inventer of Musick, and at that time a Shepherd too; and this is one of the Noblest Fragments of Greek Antiquity; and because I cannot suppose the Ingenious Mr. F. one of their number, who pretend to censure the Greeks, without being able to distinguish Greek from Ephesian Characters, I shall here set down the Lines from which Virgil took this passage, tho' none of the Commentators have observ'd it.
[Page] So that our Poet here with great Judgment, as always, follows the ancient Custom of beginning their more Solemn Songs with the Creation, and does it too most properly under the person of a Shepherd; and thus the first and best Employment of Poetry was to compose Hymns in Honour of the Great Creator of the Universe.
Few words will suffice to answer his other Objections. He demands why those several Transformations are mention'd in that Poem? And is not Fable then the Life and Subject of Poetry? Can himself assign a more proper Subject of Pastoral, than the Saturnia Regna, the Age and Scene of this kind of Poetry? What Theme more fit for the Song of a God, or to imprint Religious awe, than the Omnipotent Power of transforming the Species of Creatures at their pleasure? Their Families liv'd in Groves, near clear Springs; and what better warning could be given to the hopeful young Shepherds, than that they should not gaze too much into the Liquid dangerous Looking-glass, for fear of being stoln by the Water-Nymphs, that is, falling and being drown'd, as Hylas was? Pasiphea's monstrous passion for a Bull, is certainly a Subject enough fitted for Bucolic's? Can Mr. F. Tax Silenus for fetching too far the Transformation of the Sisters of Phaeton into Trees, when perhaps they sat at that very time under the hospitable shade of those Alders or Poplars? Or the Metamorphoses of Philomela into that ravishing Bird, which makes the sweetest musick of the Groves? If he had look'd into the Ancient Greek Writers, or so much as Consulted honest Servius, he would have discover'd that under the Allegory of this drunkenness of Silenus, the refinement and exaltation of Mens Minds by Philosophy was intended. But if the Author of these Reflections can take such flights in his Wine, it is almost pity that drunkenness shou'd be a Sin, or that he shou'd ever want good store of Burgundy, and Champaign. But indeed he seems not to have ever drank out of Silenus his Tankard, when he made either his Critique, or Pastorals.
His Censure on the Fourth seems worse grounded than the other; it is Entituled in some ancient Manuscripts, The History of the Renovation of the World; he complains that he cannot understand what is meant by those many Figurative Expressions: But if he had consulted the younger Vossius his Dissertation on this Pastoral, or read the Excellent Oration of the Emperour Constantine, made French by a good Pen of their own, he would have found there the plain inerpretation of all those Figurative Expressions; and withall, very strong proofs of the truth of the Christian Religion; such as Converted Heathens, as Valerianus, and others: And upon account of this Piece, the most Learn'd of the Latin Fathers calls Virgil a Christian, even before Christianity. Cicero takes notice of it in his Books of Divination, and Virgil probably had put it in Verse a considerable time before the Edition of his Pastorals. Nor does he appropriate it to Pollio, or his Son, but Complementally dates it from his Consulship. And therefore some one who had not so kind thoughts of Mr. F. as I, would be inclin'd to think him as bad a Catholick as Critick in this place.
I pass by, in respect therefore to some Books he has wrote since, a great part of this, and shall only touch briefly some of the Rules of this sort of Poem.
[Page] The First is, that an air of Piety upon all occasions should be maintain'd in the whole Poem: This appears in all the Ancient Greek Writers; as Homer, &c. And Virgil is so exact in the observation of it, not only in this Work, but in his Aeneis too, that a Celebrated French Writer taxes him for permitting Aeneas to do nothing without the assistance of some God. But by this it appears, at least, that Mr. St. Eur. is no Jansenist.
Mr. F. seems a little defective in this point; he brings in a pair of Shepherdesses disputing very warmly, whether Victoria, (none of the fittest Names for a Shepherdess) be a Goddess, or a Woman. Her great condescension and compassion, her affability and goodness, none of the meanest Attributes of the Divinity, pass for convincing Arguments that she could not possibly be a Goddess.
In short, she has too many Divine Perfections to be a Deity, and therefore she is a Mortal [which was the thing to be prov'd.] It is directly contrary to the practice of all ancient Poets, as well as to the Rules of decency and Religion, to make such odious Comparisons. I am much surpriz'd therefore that he should use such an argument as this.
Was not Aurora, and Venus, and Luna, and I know not how many more of the Heathen Deities too easie of access to Tithonus, to Anchises, and to Endimion? Is there any thing more Sparkish and better humour'd than Venus her accosting her Son in the Desarts of Lybia? or than the behaviour of Pallas to Diomedes, one of the most perfect and admirable Pieces of all the Iliads; where she condescends to rally him so agreeably; and notwithstanding her severe Vertue, and all the Ensigns of Majesty, with which she so terribly adorns her self, condescends to ride with him in his Chariot? But the Odysses are full of greater instances of condescension than this.
This brings to mind that Famous passage of Lucan, in which he prefers Cato to all the Gods at once, ‘Victrix causa deis placuit sed victa Catoni.’ Which Brelaeuf has render'd so flatly, and which may be thus Paraphras'd.
It is an unpardonable presumption in any sort of Religion to complement their Princes at the expence of their Deities.
[Page] But letting that pass, this whole Eclogue is but a long Paraphrase of a trite Verse in Virgil, and Homer, ‘Nec vox Hominem sonat, O Dea certe.’
So true is that Remark of the Admirable E. of Roscomon, if apply'd to the Romans, rather I fear than to the English, since his own Death.
Another Rule is, that the Characters should represent that Ancient Innocence, and unpractis'd Plainness, which was then in the World. P. Rapine has gather'd many Instances of this out of Theocritus, and Virgil; and the Reader can do it as well himself. But Mr. F. transgress'd this Rule, when he hid himself in the Thicket, to listen to the private Discourse of the two Shepherdesses. This is not only ill Breeding at Versailles; the Arcadian Shepherdesses themselves would have set their Dogs upon one for such an unpardonable piece of Rudeness.
A Third Rule is, That there should be some Ordonnance, some Design, or little Plot, which may deserve the Title of a Pastoral Scene. This is every where observ'd by Virgil, and particularly remarkable in the first Eclogue; the standard of all Pastorals; a Beautiful Landscape presents it self to your view, a Shepherd with his Flock around him, resting securely under a spreading Beech, which furnish'd the first Food to our Ancestors. Another in quite different Situation of Mind and Circumstances, the Sun setting, the Hospitality of the more fortunate Shepherd, &c. And here Mr. F. seems not a little wanting.
A Fourth Rule, and of great importance in this delicate sort of Writing, is, that there be choice diversity of Subjects; that the Eclogues, like a Beautiful Prospect, should Charm by its Variety. Virgil is admirable in this Point, and far surpasses Theocritus, as he does every where, when Judgment and Contrivance have the principal part. The Subject of the first Pastoral is hinted above.
The Second contains the Love of Coridon for Alexis, and the seasonable reproach he gives himself, that he left his Vines half prun'd, (which according to the Roman Rituals, deriv'd a Curse upon the Fruit that grew upon it) whilst he pursu'd an Object undeserving his Passion.
The Third, a sharp Contention of two Shepherds for the Prize of Poetry.
The Fourth contains the Discourse of a Shepherd Comforting himself in a declining Age, that a better was ensuing.
The Fifth a Lamentation for a Dead Friend, the first draught of which is probably more Ancient than any of the Pastorals now extant; his Brother being at first intended; but he afterwards makes his Court to Augustrus, by turning it into an Apothesis of Julius Caesar.
The Sixth is the Silenus.
The Seventh, another Poetical Dispute, first Compos'd at Mantua.
[Page] The Eighth is the Description of a despairing Lover, and a Magical Charm.
He sets the Ninth after all these, very modestly, because it was particular to himself; and here he would have ended that Work, if Gallus had not prevail'd upon him to add one more in his Favour.
Thus Curious was Virgil in diversifying his Subjects. But Mr. F. is a great deal too Ʋniform; begin where you please, the Subject is still the same. We find it true what he says of himself,
He seems to take Pastorals and Love-Verses for the same thing. Has Humaen Nature no other Passion? Does not Fear, Ambition, Avarice, Pride, a Capricio of Honour, and Laziness it self often Triumph over Love? But this Passion does all, not only in Pastorals, but on Modern Tragedies too. A Heroe can no more Fight, or be Sick, or Dye, than he can be Born without a Woman. But Dramatic's have been compos'd in compliance to the Humour of the Age, and the prevailing Inclination of the great, whose Example has a very powerful Influence, not only in the little Court behind the Scenes, but on the great Theatre of the World. This inundation of Love-Verses 'tis not so much an effect of their Amorousness, as of immoderate Self-love. This being the only sort of Poetry, in which the Writer can, not only without Censure, but even with Commendation, talk of himself. There is generally more of the Passion of Narcissus, than concern for Chloris and Corinna in this whole Affair. Be pleas'd to look into almost any of those Writers, and you shall meet every where that eternal Moy, which the admirable Paschal so judiciously condemns. Homer can never be enough admir'd for this one so particular Quality, that he never speaks of himself, either in the Iliad, or the Odysses; and if Horace had never told us his Genealogy, but left it to the Writer of his Life, perhaps he had not been a loser by it. This Consideration might induce those great Criticks, Varius and Tucca, to raze out the four first Verses of the Aeneis, in great measure, for the sake of that unlucky Ille ego. But extraordinary Genius's have a sort of Prerogative, which may dispence them from Laws, binding to Subject-Wits. However, the Ladies have the less Reason to be pleas'd with those Addresses, of which the Poet takes the greater share to himself. Thus the Beau presses into their Dressing-Room, but it is not so much to adore their fair Eyes, as to adjust his own Steenzkirk and Peruke, and set his Countenance in their Glass.
A fifth Rule, (which one may hope will not be contested) is that the Writer should shew in his Compositions, some competent skill of the Subject matter, that which makes the Character of the Persons introduc'd. In this, as in all other Points of Learning, Decency, and Oeconomy of a Poem, Virgil much excells his Master Theocritus. The Poet is better skill'd in Husbandry than those that get their Bread by it. He describes the Nature, the Diseases, the Remedies, the proper places, and Seasons, of Feeding, of Watering their Flocks; the Furniture, Diet; the Lodging and pastimes of his Shepherds. But the Persons brought in by Mr. F. are Shepherds in Masquerade, and handle their Sheep-Hook as awkardly, as they do their Oaten-Reed. They Saunter about with their chers Moutons, but they relate as little to the Business in hand, as the Painter's Dog, or a Dutch Ship, does to the History design'd. One would suspect some of them, that instead of leading out their Sheep [Page] into the Plains of Mont-Brison, and Marcilli, to the flowry Banks of Lignon, or the Charanthe; that they are driving directly, à la boucherie, to make Money of them. I hope hereafter Mr. F. will chuse his Servants better.
A sixth Rule is, That as the Style ought to be natural, clear, and elegant, it should have some peculiar relish of the Ancient Fashion of Writing. Parables in those times were frequently us'd, as they are still by the Eastern Nations; Philosophical Questions, Aenigma's, &c. and of this we find Instances in the Sacred Writings, in Homer, Contemporary with King David, in Herodotus, in the Greek Tragedians; this piece of Antiquity is imitated by Virgil with great judgment and discretion: He has propos'd one Riddle which has never yet been solv'd by any of his Commentators. Tho' he knew the Rules of Rhetorick, as well as Cicero himself; he conceals that skill in his Pastorals, and keeps close to the Character of Antiquity: Nor ought the Connexions and Transitions to be very strict, and regular; this would give the Pastorals an Air of Novelty, and of this neglect of exact Connexions, we have instances in the Writings of the Ancient Chineses, of the Jews and Greeks, in Pindar, and other Writers of Dithyrambics, in th [...] Chorus's of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. If Mr. F. and Ruaeus, had consider'd this, the one wou'd have spar'd his Critic of the Sixth, and the other, his Reflections upon the Ninth Pastoral. The over-scrupulous care of Connexions, makes the Modern Compositions oftentimes tedious and flat: And by the omission of them it comes to pass, that the Pensees of the incomparable Mr. Pascal, and perhaps of Mr. Bruyere, are two of the most Entertaining Books which the Modern French can boast of. Virgil, in this point, was not only faithful to the Character of Antiquity, but Copies after Nature her self. Thus a Meadow, where the Beauties of the Spring are profusely blended together, makes a more delightful Prospect, than a curious Knot of sorted Flowers in our Gardens; and we are much more transported with the Beauty of the Heavens, and admiration of their Creator, in a clear Night, when we behold Stars of all Magnitudes, promiscuously moving together, than if those glorious Lights were rank'd in their several Orders, or reduc'd into the finest Geometrical Figures.
Another Rule omitted by P. Rapine, as some of his are by me, (for I do not design an entire Treatise in this Preface,) is, that not only the Sentences should be short, and smart, upon which account, he justly blames the Italian, and French, as too Talkative, but that the whole piece should be so too. Virgil transgress'd this Rule in his first Pastorals, I mean those which he compos'd at Mantua, but rectifi'd the Fault in his Riper Years. This appears by the Culex, which is as long as five of his Pastorals put together. The greater part of those he finish'd, have less than a Hundred Verses, and but two of them exceed that Number. But the Silenus, which he seems to have design'd for his Master-piece, in which he introduces a God singing, and he too full of Inspiration, (which is intended by that ebriety, which Mr. F. so unreasonably ridicules,) tho' it go thro' so vast a Field of Matter, and comprizes the Mythology of near Two Thousand Years, consists but of Fifty Lines; so that its brevity is no less admirable, than the subject Matter; the noble Fashion of handling it, and the Deity speaking. Virgil keeps up his Characters in this respect too, with the strictest decency: For Poetry and Pastime was not the Business of Mens Lives in those days, but only their seasonable Recreation after necessary Labours. And therefore the length of some of the Modern Italian, and English Compositions, is against the Rules of this kind of Poesy.
[Page] I shall add something very briefly touching the Versification of Pastorals, tho' it be a mortifying Consideration to the Moderns. Heroic Verse, as it is commonly call'd, was us'd by the Latins in this sort of Poem, as very Ancient and Natural. Lyrics, Iambics, &c. being Invented afterwards: but there is so great a difference in the Numbers, of which it may be compounded, that it may pass rather for a Genus, than Species, of Verse. Whosoever shall compare the numbers of the three following Verses, will quickly be sensible of the truth of this Observation.
The first of the Georgics, ‘Quid faciat laetas segetes, quo sydere terram.’ and of the Aeneis.
The Sound of the Verses, is almost as different as the Subjects. But the Greek Writers of Pastoral, usually limited themselves to the Example of the first; which Virgil found so exceedingly difficult, that he quitted it, and left the Honour of that part to Theocritus. It is indeed probable, that what we improperly call rhyme, is the most Ancient sort of Poetry; and Learned Men have given good Arguments for it; and therefore a French Historian commits a gross mistake, when he attributes that Invention to a King of Gaul, as an English Gentleman does, when he makes a Roman Emperour the Inventor of it. But the Greeks who understood fully the force and power of Numbers, soon grew weary of this Childish sort of Verse, as the Younger Vossius justly calls it, and therefore those rhyming Hexameters, which Plutarch observes in Homer himself, seem to be the Remains of a barbarous Age. Virgil had them in such abhorrence, that he would rather make a false Syntax, than what we call a Rhime, such a Verse as this ‘Vir precor Ʋxori, frater succurre Sorori.’ Was passable in Ovid, but the nice Ears in Augustus his Court could not pardon Virgil, for▪ ‘At Regina Pyra.’ So that the principal Ornament of Modern Poetry, was accounted deformity by the Latins, and Greeks; it was they who invented the different terminations of words, those happy compositions, those short monosyllables, those transpositions for the elegance of the sound and sense, which are wanting so much in modern Languages. The French sometimes crowd together ten, or twelve Monosyllables, into one disjoynted Verse; they may understand the nature of, but cannot imitate, those wonderful Spondees of Pythagoras, by which he could suddenly pacifie a Man that was in a violent transport of anger; nor those swift numbers of the Priests of Cybele, which had the force to enrage the most sedate and Phlegmatick Tempers. Nor can any Modern put into his own Language the Energy of that single Poem of Catullus, ‘[Page] Super alta vectus, Atys▪ &c.’ Latin is but a corrupt dialect of Greek; and the French, Spanish, and Italian, a corruption of Latine; and therefore a Man might as well go about to persuade me that Vinegar is a Nobler Liquor than Wine, as that the modern Compositions can be as graceful and harmonious as the Latine it self. The Greek Tongue very naturally falls into Iambicks, and therefore the diligent Reader may find six or seven and twenty of them in those accurate Orations of Isocrates. The Latin as naturally falls into Heroic; and therefore the beginning of Livy's History is half an Hexameter, and that of Tacitus an entire one. The Roman Historian describing the glorious effort of a Colonel to break thro' a Brigade of the Enemies, just after the defeat at Cannae, falls, unknowingly, into a Verse not unworthy Virgil himself.
Ours and the French can at best but fall into Blank Verse, which is a fault in Prose. The misfortune indeed is common to us both, but we deserve more compassion, because we are not vain of our Barbarities. As Age brings Men back into the state and infirmities of Childhood, upon the fall of their Empire, the Romans doted into Rhime, as appears sufficiently by the Hymns of the Latin Church; and yet a great deal of the French Poetry does hardly deserve that poor title. I shall give an instance out of a Poem which had the good luck to gain the Prize in 1685, for the Subject deserv'd a Nobler Pen.
The Judicious Malherbe exploded this sort of Verse near Eighty Years ago. Nor can I forbear wondering at that passage of a Famous Academician, in which he, most compassionately, excuses the Ancients for their not being so exact in their Compositions, as the Modern French, because they wanted a Dictionary, of which the French are at last happily provided. If Cicero and Demosthenes had been so lucky as to have had a Dictionary, and such a Patron as Cardinal Richelieu, perhaps they might have aspir'd to the honour of Balzac's Legacy of Ten Pounds, Le prix de l'Eloquence.
On the contrary, I dare assert that there are hardly ten Lines in either of those great Orators, or even in the Catalogue of Homer's Ships, which is not more harmonious, more truly Rythmical, than most of the French, or English Sonnets; and therefore they lose, at least, one half of their native Beauty by Translation.
I cannot but add one Remark on this occasion, that the French Verse is oftentimes not so much as Rhime, in the lowest Sense; for the Childish repetition of the same Note cannot be call'd Musick; such Instances are infinite, as in the forecited Poem.
- 'Epris
- Mepris
- Trophee
- Orphee
- caché;
- cherché.
Mr. Boileau himself has a great deal of this [...], not by his own neglect, but purely by the faultiness and poverty of the French Tongue. Mr. F. [Page] at last goes into the excessive Paradoxes of Mr. Perrault, and boasts of the vast number of their Excellent Songs, preferring them to the Greek and Latin. But an ancient Writer of as good Credit, has assur'd us, that Seven Lives would hardly suffice to read over the Greek Odes; but a few Weeks would be sufficient, if a Man were so very idle as to read over all the French. In the mean-time I should be very glad to see a Catalogue of but fifty of theirs with ‘*Essay of Poetry. Exact propriety of word and thought.’ Notwithstanding all the high Encomiums, and mutual Gratulations which they give one another; (for I am far-from censuring the whole of that Illustrious Society, to which the Learned World is much oblig'd) after all those Golden Dreams at the L'Ouvre, that Modern Pieces will be as much valu'd ten, or twelve Ages hence, as the ancient Greek, or Roman, I can no more get it into my head that they will last so long, than I could believe the Learned Dr. H—K. [of the Royal Society,] if he should pretend to shew me a Butterflye that had liv'd a thousand Winters.
When Mr. F. wrote his Eclogues, he was so far from equalling Virgil, or Theocritus, that he had some pains to take before he could understand in what the principal Beauty, and Graces of their Writings do consist.
To Mr. Dryden, on his Excellent Translation of VIRGIL.
To Mr. Dryden on his Translation of VIRGIL.
To Mr. DRYDEN.
To Mr. Dryden on his VIRGIL.
To Mr. Dryden on his Translations.
ERRATA.
In the Dedicatory Preface to the Marquess of Normanby.
PAg. 7. line 32. read, of Republican Principles in his Heart. p. 9. where Atis is mention'd as having a claim by Succession before Aeneas, my Memory betray'd me; for had I consulted Virgil, he calls not the Son of Polites by the name of Atis, but of Priamus. 'Tis true he mentions Atis immediately afterwards, on the account of the Atian Family, from which Julius Caesar was descended by his Grandmother, as I have there mention'd. p. 26. towards the bottom of this Page here is a gross Errour, which is easily corrected, by reading Ten Months instead of Three: the Sense will direct you to the place. p. 28. In the quotation of a verse of Virgil's; for contise r. confise. p. 30 f. Juturna took his opportunity, r. this opportunity. There are other Errata both in false pointing, and omissions of words, both in the Preface and the Poem, which the Reader will correct without my trouble. I omit them, because they only lame my English, not destroy my meaning.
Some of the most considerable Errata.
PAstoral 2. l. 43. r. nor scorn the Pipe. Past. 4. l. 36. for Cold r. Gold. Past. 6. l. 72. f. this r. thy. In the same Past. l. 1. f. Scicilian r. Sicilian. Past. 8. l. 19. read the whole line thus; Scarce from the World the Shades of Night withdrew. Georgic 1. l. 96. after the word Arbute place the Comma; not after the next word Hazle, as it is printed, which destroys the Sense. The whole Verse is to be thus read, The thin-leav'd Arbute, hazle Graffs receives. l. 139. the note of Interrogation is false at the end of the Line, it ought to be a Period. l. 393. f. skins r. skims. Geor. 2. l. 203. and 204. the Rhymes of both are false printed: instead of Wars and prepares, r. War and prepare in the singular. l. 296. f. tracts r. tracks. Geor. 4. l. 354. And Worms that shun the Light, r. and Lizards shunning Light. Aeneid 1. l. 79. f. Elus r. Eolus. l. 97. r. Eolus again. l. 640. f. Fate r. Fame. l. 1054. f. Dimede r. Diomede. Aen. 2. l. 2. f. the lofty Couch r. his lofty Couch. Aen. 3. l. 40. f. Horrour r. Terrour. l. 142. blot out the Period at the end of the Verse, and place a Comma. Aen. 4. l. 824. f. pious pious r. pious Prince. Aen 5. l. 188. f. ptwo r. Prow. Aen. 6. l. 488. f. but but r. but once only. l. 747. f. van r. vain. l. 1133. f. three r. two. Aen. 7. l. 43. dele the Period at the end of the Verse. l. 266. f. On, (the first word of the Verse,) r. In. l. 446. f. native Land, r. another Land. l. 549. f. crowns her Lance, r. wreaths her Lance. l. 68. f. fill. r. feed. l. 732. f. reinfor'd r. reinforc'd. l. 946. f. rosie Fields r. dewy Fields. l. 1087. f. yied r. yield. Aen. 8. l. 674. f. lifeless Limbs, r. listless Limbs. Aen. 10 l. 497. blot out the Period at the end of the Verse, and place a Comma. l. 735. f. shall. r. will. l. 864. f. loving Lord r. Sov'raign Lord. l. 924. f. Planks were r. Plank was. l. 1286. f. Sholuder r. Shoulder. l. 1311. f. to his Throat the Sword apply'd, r. to the Sword his Throat apply'd. Aen. 11. l. 120. f. Heads and Hands r. their loaded Hands. l. 528. f. Heros r. Heroes.
Directions to the Binders, how to place the several Parts of this Book in Binding.
- 1. Title and Dedication to the Lord Clifford.
- 2. The Life of Virgil, and Preface to the Pastorals.
- 3. Poems on Mr. Dryden's Translation of Virgil.
- 4. The Names of the Subscribers to the Cuts of Virgil.
- 5. The Names of the second Subscribers.
- 6. The Pastorals.
- 7. The Dedication to the Earl of Chesterfield, with an Essay on the Georgics.
- 8. The Georgics.
- 9. The Dedication to the Marquess of Normanby.
- 10. The Aeneis.
THE NAMES OF THE SUBSCRIBERS TO THE Cuts of Virgil, Each Subscription being Five Guineas.
- Page
- 1 LOrd Chancellor.—1
- 2 Lord Privy Seal.—6
- 3 Earl of Dorset.—10
- 4 Lord Buckhurst.—17
- 5 Earl of Abingdon.—20
- 6 Lord Visc. Cholmondely.—26
- 7 Ld. Herbert of Chirbury.—31
- 8 Lord Clifford.—35
- 9 Marq. of Hartington.—41
- 10 The Hon. Mr. Ch. Mountague.—45
- 11 Sir Tho Trevor.—49
- 12 Sir John Hawles.—56
- 13 Joseph Jeakyl, Esq—61
- 14 Tho. Vernon, Esq—63
- 15 Will. Dobyns, Esq—68
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- 22 Sir J. Isham, Bar.—106
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- 27 Sir Will. Trumbull.—125
- 28 Sir Barth. Shower,—138
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- 31 Prince George of Denmark. 201
- 32 Princess Ann of Denmark. 210
- 33 Dutchess of Ormond.—211
- 34 Countess of Exeter.—214
- 35 Countess Dowager of Winchelsea.—227
- 36 Marchioness of Normanby. 230
- 37 Duke of Somerset.—234
- 38 Earl of Salisbury.—243
- 39 Earl of Inchiqueen.—247
- 40 Earl of Orrery.—257
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- 42 Coun. Dow. of Northampton. 263
- [Page]Page
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- Page
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- 94 Marquiss of Normanby.—549
- 95 Lord Berkley.—569
- 96 Arthur Manwareing, Esq 573
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- 98 Brigradier Fitzpatrick.—585
- 99 Dr. Tho. Hobbs.—595
- 100 Lord Guilford—611
- 101 Duke of Ormond.—618
The Names of the second SUBSCRIBERS.
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- Sir James Ash, Bar.
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- Earl of Clarendon.
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To the Right Honble John Lord Sommers Baron of Eresham Ld High Chancellr: of England &c.
Virgil's Pastorals.
The First Pastoral. OR Tityrus and Meliboeus.
The Occasion of the First Pastoral was this. When Augustus had setled himself in the Roman Empire, that he might reward his Veteran Troops for their past Service, he distributed among 'em all the Lands that lay about Cremona and Mantua: turning out the right Owners for having sided with his Enemies. Virgil was a Sufferer among the rest; who afterwards recover'd his Estate by Mecaenas's Intercession, and as an Instance of his Gratitude compos'd the following Pastoral; where he sets out his own Good Fortune in the Person of Tityrus, and the Calamities of his Mantuan Neighbours in the Character of Meliboeus.
The Second Pastoral. OR, ALEXIS.
The Commentators can by no means agree on the Person of Alexis, but are all of opinion that some Beautiful Youth is meant by him, to whom Virgil here makes Love; in Corydon's Language and Simplicity. His way of Courtship is wholly Pastoral: He complains of the Boys Coyness, recommends himself for his Beauty and Skill in Piping; invites the Youth into the Country, where he promises him the Diversions of the Place; with a suitable Present of Nuts and Apples: But when he finds nothing will prevail, he resolves to quit his troublesome Amour, and betake himself again to his former Business.
To the Right Honble: Thomas Earle of Pembroke and Montgomery, Lord Privy Seale & [...]
The Third Pastoral. OR, PALAEMON.
Menalcas, Damaetas, Palaemon.
Damaetas and Menalcas, after some smart strokes of Country Railery, resolve to try who has the most Skill at a Song; and accordingly make their Neighbour Palaemon Judge of their Performances: Who, after a full hearing of both Parties, declares himself unfit for the Decision of so weighty a Controversie, and leaves the Victory undetermin'd.
To the Right Honble: Charles Sackvill Earle of Dorsett & Midleseoc Lord Chamberlain of his Majts. househould &c.
The Fourth Pastoral. OR, POLLIO.
The Poet celebrates the Birth-day of Saloninus, the Son of Pollio, born in the Consulship of his Father, after the taking of Salonae, a City in Dalmatia. Many of the Verses are translated from one of the Sybils, who prophesie of our Saviour's Birth.
To the Right Honble. Lionel Cranfeild Sackvill Lord Buck hurst, eldest son of Charles Earle of Dorsett & Midlesex.
The Fifth Pastoral. OR, DAPHNIS.
Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert Shepherds at a Song, begin one by consent to the Memory of Daphnis; who is suppos'd by the best Criticks to represent Julius Caesar. Mopsus laments his Death, Menalcas proclaims his Divinity. The whole Eclogue consisting of an Elegie and an Apotheosis.
To the Right Honble. James Bertie, Earle of Abingdon, and Baron Norreys of Rycott Cheife Justice, and Justice in Eyre of all his Majts.—Parcks Forests, and Chaces▪ on the South side of Trent: and Ld Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum of the County of Oxon.
The Sixth Pastoral. OR, SILENUS.
Two young Shepherds Chromis and Mnasylus, having been often promis'd a Song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep in this Pastoral; where they bind him hand and foot, and then claim his Promise. Silenus finding they wou'd be put off no longer, begins his Song; in which he describes the Formation of the Universe, and the Original of Animals, according to the Epicurean Philosophy; and then runs through the most surprising Transformations which have happen'd in Nature since her Birth. This Pastoral was design'd as a Complement to Syro the Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in the Principles of that Philosophy. Silenus acts as Tutor, Chromis and Mnasylus as the two Pupils.
To the Right Honble. Hugh Lord Viscount Cholmondely of Kelles in the Kingdom of Ireland and Baron of Wichmalbank in the Kingdom of England.
The Seventh Pastoral. OR, MELIBOEUS.
Meliboeus here gives us the Relation of a sharp Poetical Contest between Thyrsis and Corydon; at which he himself and Daphnis were present; who both declar'd for Corydon.
To the Right Honble: Henry Lord Herbert Baron of Chirbury. &c.
The Eighth Pastoral. OR, PHARMACEUTRIA.
This Pastoral contains the Songs of Damon and Alphesiboeus. The first of 'em bewails the loss of his Mistress, and repines at the Success of his Rival Mopsus. The other repeats the Charms of some Enchantress, who endeavour'd by her Spells and Magic to make Daphnis in Love with her.
To the Rigt Honble: Charles Ld Clifford Baron of Lounsbrough in the County of York
The Ninth Pastoral. OR, LYCIDAS, and MOERIS.
When Virgil, by the Favour of Augustus, had recover'd his Patrimony near Mantua, and went in hope to take Possession, he was in danger to be slain by Arius the Centurion, to whom those Lands were assign'd by the Emperour, in reward of his Service against Brutus and Cassius. This Pastoral therefore is fill'd with complaints of his hard Usage; and the Persons introduc'd, are the Bayliff of Virgil, Moeris, and his Friend Lycidas.
To the Right Honble. Marquiss of Hartington the Duke of William Lord Eldest Son to His Grace the Duke of Devonshire.
The Tenth Pastoral. OR, GALLUS.
Gallus a great Patron of Virgil, and an excellent Poet, was very deeply in Love with one Citheris, whom he calls Lycoris; and who had forsaken him for the Company of a Souldier. The Poet therefore supposes his Friend Gallus retir'd in his heighth of Melancholy into the Solitudes of Arcadia (the celebrated Scene of Pastorals;) where he represents him in a very languishing Condition with all the Rural Deities about him, pitying his hard Usage, and condoling his Misfortune.
To the Right Hon••e. Charles Montague Esqr: one of the Lords Commrs. of his Majts. Treasury, Chancellor, and under Treasurer of his Majts. Excheqr. and one of his Majts. Most Honble. Privy Councill.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE PHILIP Earl of Chesterfield, &c.
I Cannot begin my Address to your Lordship, better than in the words of Virgil,
Seven Years together I have conceal'd the longing which I had to appear before you: A time as tedious as Aeneas pass'd in his wandring Voyage, before he reach'd the promis'd Italy. But I consider'd, that nothing which my meanness cou'd produce, was worthy of your Patronage. At last this happy Occasion offer'd, of Presenting to you the best Poem of the best Poet. If I balk'd this opportunity, I was in despair of finding such another; and if I took it, I was still uncertain whether you wou'd vouchsafe to accept it from my hands. 'Twas a bold venture which I made, in desiring your permission to lay my unworthy Labours at your feet. But my rashness has succeeded beyond my hopes: And you have been pleas'd not to suffer an Old Man to go discontented out of the World, for want of that protection, of which he had been so long Ambitious. I have known a Gentleman in disgrace, and not daring to appear before King Charles the Second, though he much desir'd it: At length he took the confidence to attend a fair Lady to the Court; and told His Majesty, that under her protection he had presum'd to wait on him. With the same humble confidence I present my self before your Lordship, and attending on Virgil hope a gracious reception. The Gentleman succeeded, because the powerful Lady was his Friend; but I have too much injur'd my great Author, to expect he should intercede for me. I wou'd have Translated him, but according to the litteral French and Italian Phrases, I fear I have traduc'd him. 'Tis the fault of many a well-meaning Man, to be officious in a wrong place, and do a prejudice, where he had endeavour'd to do a service. Virgil wrote his Georgics in the full strength and vigour of his Age, when his Judgment was at the height, and before his Fancy was declining. He had, (according to our homely Saying) his full swing at this Poem, beginning it about the Age of Thirty Five; and scarce concluding it before he arriv'd at Forty. 'Tis observ'd both of him, and Horace, and I believe it will hold in all great Poets; that though they wrote before with a certain heat of Genius which inspir'd them, yet that heat was not perfectly digested. There is requir'd a continuance of warmth to ripen the best and Noblest Fruits. Thus Horace in his First and Second [Page] Book of Odes, was still rising, but came not to his Meridian 'till the Third. After which his Judgment was an overpoize to his Imagination: He grew too cautious to be bold enough, for he descended in his Fourth by slow degrees, and in his Satires and Epistles, was more a Philosopher and a Critick than a Poet. In the beginning of Summer the days are almost at a stand, with little variation of length or shortness, because at that time the Diurnal Motion of the Sun partakes more of a Right Line, than of a Spiral. The samè is the method of Nature in the frame of Man. He seems at Forty to be fully in his Summer Tropick; somewhat before, and somewhat after, he finds in his Soul but small increases or decays. From Fifty to Threescore the Ballance generally holds even, in our colder Clymates: For he loses not much in Fancy; and Judgment, which is the effect of Observation, still increases: His succeeding years afford him little more than the stubble of his own Harvest: Yet if his Constitution be healthful, his Mind may still retain a decent vigour; and the Gleanings of that Ephraim, in Comparison with others, will surpass the Vintage of Abiezer. I have call'd this somewhere by a bold Metaphor, a green Old Age; but Virgil has given me his Authority for the Figure.
Amongst those few who enjoy the advantage of a latter Spring, your Lordship is a rare Example: Who being now arriv'd at your great Clymacterique, yet give no proof of the least decay in your Excellent Judgment, and comprehension of all things, which are within the compass of Humane Ʋnderstanding. Your Conversation is as easie as it is instructive, and I cou'd never observe the least vanity or the least assuming in any thing you said: but a natural unaffected Modesty, full of good sense, and well digested. A clearness of Notion, express'd in ready and unstudied words. No Man has complain'd, or ever can, that you have discours'd too long on any Subject: for you leave us in an eagerness of Learning more; pleas'd with what we hear, but not satisfy'd, because you will not speak so much as we cou'd wish. I dare not excuse your Lordship from this fault; for though 'tis none in you, 'tis one to all who have the happiness of being known to you. I must confess the Criticks make it one of Virgil's Beauties, that having said what he thought convenient, he always left somewhat for the imagination of his Readers to supply: That they might gratifie their fancies, by finding more, in what he had written, than at first they cou'd; and think they had added to his thought, when it was all there before-hand, and he only sav'd himself the expence of words. However it was, I never went from your Lordship, but with a longing to return, or without a hearty Curse to him who invented Ceremonies in the World, and put me on the nec [...]ssity of withdrawing, when it was my interest as well as my desire, to have given you a much longer trouble. I cannot imagine (if your Lordship will give me leave to speak my thoughts) but you have had a more than ordinary vigour in your Youth. For too much of heat is requir'd at first, that there may not too little be left at last. A Prodigal Fire is only capable of large remains: And yours, my Lord, still burns the clearer in declining. The Blaze is not so fierce as at the first, but the Smoak is wholly vanish'd; and your Friends who stand about you, are not only sensible of a chearful warmth, but are kept at an awful distance by its force. In my small Observations of Mankind, I have ever sound, that such as are not rather too full of Spirit when they are young, degenerate to dullness in their Age. Sobriety in our riper years is the effect of a well-concocted warmth; but where [Page] the Principles are only Phlegm, what can be expected from the waterish Matter, but an insipid Manhood, and a stupid old Infancy; Discretion in Leading-strings, and a confirm'd ignorance on Crutches? Virgil in his Third Georgic, when he describes a Colt, who promises a Courser for the Race, or for the Field of Battel, shews him the first to pass the Bridge, which trembles under him, and to stem the torrent of the flood. His beginnings must be in rashness; a Noble Fault: But Time and Experience will correct that Errour, and tame it into a deliberate and well-weigh'd Courage; which knows both to be cautious and to dare, as occasion offers. Your Lordship is a Man of Honour, not only so unstain'd, but so unquestion'd, that you are the living Standard of that Heroick Vertue; so truly such, that if I wou'd flatter you, I cou'd not. It takes not from you, that you were born with Principles of Generosity and Probity: But it adds to you, that you have cultivated Nature, and made those Principles, the Rule and Measure of all your Actions. The World knows this, without my telling: Yet Poets have a right of Recording it to all Posterity. ‘Dignum Laude Virum, Musa vetat Mori.’ Epaminondas, Lucullus, and the two first Caesars, were not esteem'd the worse Commanders, for having made Philosophy, and the Liberal Arts their Study. Cicero might have been their Equal, but that he wanted Courage. To have both these Vertues, and to have improv'd them both, with a softness of Manners, and a sweetness of Conversation, few of our Nobility can fill that Character: One there is, and so conspicuous by his own light, that he needs not
To be Nobly Born, and of an Ancient Family, is in the extreams of Fortune, either good or bad; for Virtue and Descent are no Inheritance. A long Series of Ancestours shews the Native with great advantage at the first; but if he any way degenerate from his Line, the least Spot is visible on Ermine. But to preserve this whiteness in its Original Purity, you, my Lord, have, like that Ermine, forsaken the common Track of Business, which is not always clean: You have chosen for your self a private Greatness, and will not be polluted with Ambition. It has been observ'd in former times, that none have been so greedy of Employments, and of managing the Publick, as they who have least deserv'd their Stations. But such only merit to be call'd Patriots, under whom we see their Country Flourish. I have laugh'd sometimes (for who wou'd always be a Heraclitus?) when I have reflected on those Men, who from time to time have shot themselves into the World. I have seen many Successions of them; some bolting out upon the Stage with vast applause, and others hiss'd off, and quitting it with disgrace. But while they were in action, I have constantly observ'd, that they seem'd desirous to retreat from Business: Greatness they said was nauseous, and a Crowd was troublesome; a quiet privacy was their Ambition. Some few of them I believe said this in earnest, and were making a provision against future want, that they might enjoy their Age with ease: They saw the happiness of a private Life, and promis'd to themselves a Blessing, which every day it was in their power to possess. But they deferr'd it, and linger'd still at Court, because they thought they had not yet enough to make them happy: They wou'd have more, and laid in to make their Solitude Luxurious. A wretched Philosophy, which Epicurus never taught them in his Garden: They lov'd the prospect of this [Page] quiet in reversion, but were not willing to have it in possession; they wou'd first be Old, and made as sure of Health and Life, as if both of them were at their dispose. But put them to the necessity of a present choice, and they preferr'd continuance in Power: Like the Wretch who call'd Death to his assistance, but refus'd it when he came. The Great Scipio was not of their Opinion, who indeed sought Honours in his Youth, and indur'd the Fatigues with which he purchas'd them. He serv'd his Country when it was in need of his Courage and his Conduct, 'till he thought it was time to serve himself: But dismounted from the Saddle, when he found the Beast which bore him, began to grow restiff and ungovernable. But your Lordship has given us a better Example of Moderation. You saw betimes that Ingratitude is not confin'd to Commonwealths; and therefore though you were form'd alike, for the greatest of Civil Employments, and Military Commands, yet you push'd not your Fortune to rise in either; but contented your self with being capable, as much as any whosoever, of defending your Country with your Sword, or assisting it with your Counsel, when you were call'd. For the rest, the respect and love which was paid you, not only in the Province where you live, but generally by all who had the happiness to know you, was a wise Exchange for the Honours of the Court: A place of forgetfulness, at the best, for well deservers. 'Tis necessary for the polishing of Manners, to have breath'd that Air, but 'tis infectious even to the best Morals to live always in it. 'Tis a dangerous Commerce, where an honest Man is sure at the first of being Cheated; and he recovers not his Losses, but by learning to Cheat others. The undermining Smile becomes at length habitual; and the drift of his plausible Conversation, is only to flatter one, that he may betray another. Yet 'tis good to have been a looker on, without venturing to play; that a Man may know false Dice another time, though he never means to use them. I commend not him who never knew a Court, but him who forsakes it because he knows it. A young Man deserves no praise, who out of melancholy Zeal leaves the World before he has well try'd it, and runs headlong into Religion. He who carries a Maidenhead into a Cloyster, is sometimes apt to lose it there, and to repent of his Repentance. He only is like to endure Austerities, who has already found the inconvenience of Pleasures. For almost every Man will be making Experiments in one part or another of his Life: And the danger is the less when we are young: For having try'd it early, we shall not be apt to repeat it afterwards. Your Lordship therefore may properly be said to have chosen a Retreat; and not to have chosen it 'till you had maturely weigh'd the advantages of rising higher with the hazards of the fall. Res non parta labore, sed relicta, was thought by a Poet, to be one of the requisites to a happy Life. Why shou'd a reasonable Man put it into the power of Fortune to make him miserable, when his Ancestours have taken care to release him from her? Let him venture, says Horace, Qui Zonam perdidit. He who has nothing, plays securely, for he may win, and cannot be poorer if he loses. But he who is born to a plentiful Estate, and is Ambitious of Offices at Court, sets a stake to Fortune, which she can seldom answer: If he gains nothing, he loses all, or part of what was once his own; and if he gets, he cannot be certain but he may refund.
In short, however he succeeds, 'tis Covetousness that induc'd him first to play, and Covetousness is the undoubted sign of ill sense at bottom. The Odds are against him that he loses, and one loss may be of more consequence to him, than all his former winnings. 'Tis like the present War of the Christians against the Turk; every year they gain a Victory, and by that a Town; but if they are once defeated, they lose a Province at a blow, and endanger the safety of the whole Empire. You, my Lord, enjoy your quiet in a Garden, [Page] where you have not only the leisure of thinking, but the pleasure to think of nothing which can discompose your Mind. A good Conscience is a Port which is Land-lock'd on every side, and where no Winds can possibly invade, no Tempests can arise. There a Man may stand upon the Shore, and not only see his own Image, but that of his Maker, clearly reflected from the undisturb'd and silent waters. Reason was intended for a Blessing, and such it is to Men of Honour and Integrity; who desire no more, than what they are able to give themselves; like the happy Old Coricyan, whom my Author describes in his Fourth Georgic; whose Fruits and Salads on which he liv'd contented, were all of his own growth, and his own Plantation. Virgil seems to think that the Blessings of a Country Life are not compleat, without an improvement of Knowledge by Contemplation and Reading.
'Tis but half possession not to understand that happiness which we possess: A foundation of good Sense, and a cultivation of Learning, are requir'd to give a seasoning to Retirement, and make us taste the blessing. God has bestow'd on your Lordship the first of these, and you have bestow'd on your self the second. Eden was not made for Beasts, though they were suffer'd to live in it, but for their Master, who studied God in the Works of his Creation. Neither cou'd the Devil have been happy there with all his Knowledge, for he wanted Innocence to make him so. He brought Envy, Malice, and Ambition into Paradise, which sour'd to him the sweetness of the Place. Wherever inordinate Affections are, 'tis Hell. Such only can enjoy the Country, who are capable of thinking when they are there, and have left their Passions behind them in the Town. Then they are prepar'd for Solitude; and in that Solitude is prepar'd for them ‘Et secura quies, & nescia fallere vita.’
As I began this Dedication with a Verse of Virgil, so I conclude it with another. The continuance of your Health, to enjoy that Happiness which you so well deserve, and which you have provided for your self, is the sincere and earnest Wish of
AN ESSAY ON THE GEORGICS.
VIRGIL may be reckon'd the first who introduc'd three new kinds of Poetry among the Romans, which he Copied after three the Greatest Masters of Greece. Theocritus and Homer have still disputed for the advantage over him in Pastoral and Heroicks, but I think all are Unanimous in giving him the precedence to Hesiod in his Georgies. The truth of it is, the Sweetness and Rusticity of a Pastoral cannot be so well exprest in any other Tongue as in the Greek, when rightly mixt and qualified with the Doric Dialect; nor can the Majesty of an Heroick Poem any where appear so well as in this Language, which has a Natural greatness in it, and can be often render'd more deep and sonorous by the Pronunciation of the Ionians. But in the middle Stile, where the Writers in both Tongues are on a Level: we see how far Virgil has excell'd all who have written in the same way with him.
There has been abundance of Criticism spent on Virgil's Pastorals and Aeneids, but the Georgics are a Subject which none of the Criticks have sufficiently taken into their Consideration; most of 'em passing it over in silence, or casting it under the same head with Pastoral; a division by no means proper, unless we suppose the Stile of a Husbandman ought to be imitated in a Georgic as that of a Shepherd is in Pastoral. But tho' the Scene of both these Poems lies in the same place; the Speakers in them are of a quite different Character, since the Precepts of Husbandry are not to be deliver'd with the simplicity of a Plow-Man, but with the Address of a Poet. No Rules therefore that relate to Pastoral, can any way affect the Georgics, which fall under that Class of Poetry which consists in giving plain and direct Instructions to the Reader; whether they be Moral Duties, as those of Theognis and Pythagoras; or Philosophical Speculations, as those of Aratus and Lucretius; or Rules of Practice, as those of Hesiod and Virgil. Among these different kinds of Subjects, that which the Georgics goes upon, is I think the meanest and the least improving, but the most pleasing and delightful. Precepts of Morality, besides the Natural Corruption of our Tempers, which makes us averse to them, are so abstracted from Ideas of Sense, that they seldom give an [Page] opportunity for those Beautiful Descriptions and Images which are the Spirit and Life of Poetry. Natural Philosophy has indeed sensible Objects to work upon, but then it often puzzles the Reader with the Intricacy of its Notions, and perplexes him with the multitude of its Disputes. But this kind of Poetry I am now speaking of, addresses it self wholly to the Imagination: It is altogether Conversant among the Fields and Woods, and has the most delightful part of Nature for its Province. It raises in our Minds a pleasing variety of Scenes and Landskips, whilst it teaches us: and makes the dryest of its Precepts look like a Description. A Georgic therefore is some part of the Science of Husbandry put into a pleasing Dress, and set off with all the Beauties and Embellishments of Poetry. Now since this Science of Husbandry is of a very large extent, the Poet shews his Skill in singling out such Precepts to preceed on, as are useful, and at the same time most capable of Ornament. Virgil was so well acquainted with this Secret, that to set off his first Georgic, he has run into a set of Precepts, which are almost foreign to his Subject, in that Beautiful account he gives us of the Signs in Nature, which precede the Changes of the Weather.
And if there be so much Art in the choice of fit Precepts, there is much more requir'd in the Treating of 'em; that they may fall in after each other by a Natural unforc'd Method, and shew themselves in the best and most advantagious Light. They shou'd all be so finely wrought together into the same Piece, that no course Seam may discover where they joyn; as in a Curious Brede of Needle-Work, one Colour falls away by such just degrees, and another rises so insensibly, that we see the variety, without being able to distinguish the total vanishing of the one from the first appearance of the other. Nor is it sufficient to range and dispose this Body of Precepts into a clear and easie Method, unless they are deliver'd to us in the most pleasing and agreeable manner: For there are several ways of conveying the same Truth to the Mind of Man, and to chuse the pleasantest of these ways, is that which chiefly distinguishes Poetry from Prose, and makes Virgil's Rules of Husbandry pleasanter to read than Varro's. Where the Prose-writer tells us plainly what ought to be done, the Poet often conceals the Precept in a description, and represents his Country-Man performing the Action in which he wou'd instruct his Reader. Where the one sets out as fully and distinctly as he can, all the parts of the Truth, which he wou'd communicate to us; the other singles out the most pleasing Circumstance of this Truth, and so conveys the whole in a more diverting manner to the Understanding. I shall give one Instance out of a multitude of this nature, that might be found in the Georgics, where the Reader may see the different ways Virgil has taken to express the same thing, and how much pleasanter every manner of Expression is, than the plain and direct mention of it wou'd have been. It is in the Second Georgic where he tells us what Trees will bear Grafting on each other.
Here we see the Poet consider'd all the Effects of this Union between Trees of different kinds, and took notice of that Effect which had the most surprize, and by consequence the most delight in it, to express the capacity that was in them of being thus united. This way of Writing is every where much in use among the Poets, and is particularly practis'd by Virgil, who loves to suggest a Truth indirectly, and without giving us a full and open view of it: To let us see just so much as will naturally lead the Imagination into all the parts that lie conceal'd. This is wonderfully diverting to the Understanding, thus to receive a Precept, that enters as it were through a By-way, and to apprehend an Idea that draws a whole train after it: For here the Mind, which is always delighted with its own Discoveries, only takes the hint from the Poet, and seems to work out the rest by the strength of her own faculties.
But since the inculcating Precept upon Precept, will at length prove tiresom to the Reader, if he meets with no other Entertainment, the Poet must take care not to encumber his Poem with too much Business; but sometimes to relieve the Subject with a Moral Reflection, or let it rest a while for the sake of a pleasant and pertinent digression. Nor is it sufficient to run out into beautiful and diverting digressions (as it is generally thought) unless they are brought in aptly, and are something of a piece with the main design of the Georgic: for they ought to have a remote alliance at least to the Subject, that so the whole Poem may be more uniform and agreeable in all its parts. We shou'd never quite lose sight of the Country, tho' we are sometimes entertain'd with a distant prospect of it. Of this nature are Virgil's Descriptions of the Original of Agriculture, of the Fruitfulness of Italy, of a Country Life, and the like, which are not brought in by force, but naturally rise out of the principal Argument and Design of the Poem. I know no one digression in the Georgics that may seem to contradict this Observation, besides that in the latter end of the First Book, where the Poet launches out into a discourse of the Battel of Pharsalia, and the Actions of Augustus: But it's worth while to consider how admirably he has turn'd the course of his narration into its proper Channel, and made his Husbandman concern'd even in what relates to the Battel, in those inimitable Lines,
And afterwards speaking of Augustus's Actions, he still remembers that Agriculture ought to be some way hinted at throughout the whole Poem.
[Page] We now come to the Stile which is proper to a Georgic; and indeed this is the part on which the Poet must lay out all his strength, that his words may be warm and glowing, and that every thing he describes may immediately present it self, and rise up to the Reader's view. He ought in particular to be careful of not letting his Subject debase his Stile, and betray him into a meanness of Expression, but every where to keep up his Verse in all the Pomp of Numbers, and Dignity of words.
I think nothing which is a Phrase or Sayingin common talk, shou'd be admitted into a serious Poem: because it takes off from the Solemnity of the expression, and gives it too great a turn of Familiarity: much less ought the low Phrases and Terms of Art, that are adapted to Husbandry, have any place in such a Work as the Georgic, which is not to appear in the natural simplicity and nakedness of its Subject, but in the pleasantest Dress that Poetry can bestow on it. Thus Virgil, to deviate from the common form of words, wou'd not make use of Tempore but Sidere in his first Verse, and every where else abounds with Metaphors, Grecisms, and Circumlocutions, to give his Verse the greater Pomp, and preserve it from sinking into a Plebeian Stile. And herein consists Virgil's Master-piece, who has not only excell'd all other Poets, but even himself in the Language of his Georgics; where we receive more strong and lively Ideas of things from his words, than we cou'd have done from the Objects themselves: and find our Imaginations more affected by his Descriptions, than they wou'd have been by the very sight of what he describes.
I shall now, after this short Scheme of Rules, consider the different success that Hesiod and Virgil have met with in this kind of Poetry, which may give us some further Notion of the Excellence of the Georgics. To begin with Hesiod; If we may guess at his Character from his Writings, he had much more of the Husbandman than the Poet in his Temper: He was wonderfully Grave, Discreet, and Frugal, he liv'd altogether in the Country, and was probably for his great Prudence the Oracle of the whole Neighbourhood. These Principles of good Husbandry ran through his Works, and directed him to the choice of Tillage, and Merchandise, for the Subject of that which is the most Celebrated of them. He is every where bent on Instruction, avoids all manner of Digressions, and does not stir out of the Field once in the whole Georgic. His Method in describing Month after Month with its proper Seasons and Employments, is too grave and fimple; it takes off from the surprize and variety of the Poem, and makes the whole look but like a modern Almanack in Verse. The Reader is carried through a course of Weather, and may beforehand guess whether he is to meet with Snow or Rain, Clouds or Sunshine in the next Description. His Descriptions indeed have abundance of Nature in them, but then it is Nature in her simplicity and undress. Thus when he speaks of January; the Wild-Beasts, says he, run shivering through the Woods with their Heads stooping to the ground, and their Tails clapt between their Legs; the Goats and Oxen are almost flead with Cold; but it is not so bad with the Sheep, because they have a thick Coat of Wooll about 'em. The Old Men too are bitterly pincht with the Weather, but the young Girls feel nothing of it, who sit at home [Page] with their Mothers by a warm Fire-side. Thus does the Old Gentleman give himself up to a loose kind of Tattle, rather than endeavour after a just Poetical Description. Nor has he shewn more of Art or Judgment in the Precepts he has given us, which are sown so very thick, that they clog the Poem too much, and are often so minute and full of Circumstances, that they weaken and un-nerve his Verse. But after all, we are beholding to him for the first rough sketch of a Georgic: where we may still discover something venerable in the Antickness of the Work; but if we wou'd see the Design enlarg'd, the Figures reform'd, the Colouring laid on, and the whole Piece finish'd, we must expect it from a greater Master's hand.
Virgil has drawn out the Rules for Tillage and Planting into Two Books, which Hesiod has dispatcht in half a one; but has so rais'd the natural rudeness and simplicity of his Subject with such a significancy of Expression, such a Pomp of Verse, such variety of Transitions, and such a solemn Air in his Reflections, that if we look on both Poets together, we see in one the plainness of a down-right Country-Man, and in the other, something of a Rustick Majesty, like that of a Roman Dictator at the Plow-Tail. He delivers the meanest of his Precepts with a kind of Grandeur, he breaks the Clods and tosses the Dung about with an air of gracefulness. His Prognostications of the Weather are taken out of Aratus, where we may see how judiciously he has pickt out those that are most proper for his Husbandman's Observation; how he has enforc'd the Expression, and heighten'd the Images which he found in the Original.
The Second Book has more wit in it, and a greater boldness in its Metaphors than any of the rest. The Poet with a great Beauty applies Oblivion, Ignorance, Wonder, Desire and the like to his Trees. The last Georgic has indeed as many Metaphors, but not so daring as this; for Humane Thoughts and Passions may be more naturally ascrib'd to a Bee, than to an Inanimate Plant. He who reads over the Pleasures of a Country Life, as they are describ'd by Virgil in the latter end of this Book, can scarce be of Virgil's Mind, in preferring even the Life of a Philosopher to it.
We may I think read the Poet's Clime in his Description, for he seems to have been in a sweat at the Writing of it.
And is every where mentioning among his chief Pleasures, the coolness of his Shades and Rivers, Vales and Grottos, which a more Northern Poet wou'd have omitted for the description of a Sunny Hill, and Fire-side.
The Third Georgic seems to be the most labour'd of 'em all; there is a wonderful Vigour and Spirit in the description of the Horse and Chariot-Race. The force of Love is represented in Noble Instances, and very Sublime Expressions. The Scythian Winter-piece appears so very cold and bleak to the Eye, that a Man can scarce look on it without shivering. The Murrain at the end has all the expressiveness [Page] that words can give. It was here that the Poet strain'd hard to outdo Lucretius in the description of his Plague; and if the Reader wou'd see what success he had, he may find it at large in Scaliger.
But Virgil seems no where so well pleas'd, as when he is got among his Bees in the Fourth Georgic: And Ennobles the Actions of so trivial a Creature, with Metaphors drawn from the most important Concerns of Mankind. His Verses are not in a greater noise and hurry in the Battels of Aeneas and Turnus, than in the Engagement of two Swarms. And as in his Aeneis he compares the Labours of his Trojans to those of Bees and Pismires, here he compares the Labours of the Bees to those of the Cyclops. In short, the last Georgic was a good Prelude to the Aeneis; and very well shew'd what the Poet could do in the description of what was really great, by his describing the Mock-grandeur of an Insect with so good a grace. There is more pleasantness in the little Platform of a Garden, which he gives us about the middle of this Book, than in all the spacious Walks and Water-works of Rapin's. The Speech of Proteus at the end can never be enough admir'd, and was indeed very fit to conclude so Divine a Work.
After this particular account of the Beauties in the Georgics, I shou'd in the next place endeavour to point out its imperfections, if it has any. But tho' I think there are some few parts in it that are not so Beautiful as the rest, I shall not presume to name them, as rather suspecting my own Judgment, than I can believe a fault to be in that Poem, which lay so long under Virgil's Correction, and had his last hand put to it. The first Georgic was probably Burlesqu'd in the Author's Lifetime; for we still find in the Scholiasts a Verse that ridicules part of a Line Translated from Hesiod. Nudus Ara, sere Nudus—And we may easily guess at the Judgment of this extraordinary Critick, whoever he was, from his Censuring this particular Precept. We may be sure Virgil wou'd not have Translated it from Hesiod, had he not discover'd some Beauty in it; and indeed the Beauty of it is what I have before observ'd to be frequently met with in Virgil, the delivering the Precept so indirectly, and singling out the particular circumstance of Sowing and Plowing naked, to suggest to us that these Employments are proper only in the hot Season of the Year.
I shall not here compare the Stile of the Georgics with that of Lucretius, which the Reader may see already done in the Preface to the Second Volume of Miscellany Poems; but shall conclude this Poem to be the most Compleat, Elaborate, and finisht Piece of all Antiquity. The Aeneis indeed is of a Nobler kind, but the Georgic is more perfect in its kind. The Aeneid has a greater variety of Beauties in it, but those of the Georgic are more exquisite. In short, the Georgic has all the perfection that can be expected in a Poem written by the greatest Poet in the Flower of his Age, when his Invention was ready, his Imagination warm, his Judgment settled, and all his Faculties in their full Vigour and Maturity.
Virgil's Georgics.
The First Book of the Georgics.
The Poet, in the beginning of this Book, propounds the general Design of each Georgic: And after a solemn Invocation of all the Gods who are any way related to his Subject, he addresses himself in particular to Augustus, whom he complements with Divinity; and after strikes into his Business. He shews the different kinds of Tillage proper to different Soils, traces out the Original of Agriculture, gives a Catalogue of the Husbandman's Tools, specifies the Employments pecultar to each Season, describes the changes of the Weather, with the Signs in Heaven and Earth that fore-bode them. Instances many of the Prodigies that happen'd near the time of Julius Caesar's Death. And shuts up all with a Supplication to the Gods for the Safety of Augustus, and the Prefervation of Rome.
To Sr Thomas Trevor of the Inner Temple Knight His Majestys Attorny Generall.
To Sr Iohn Hawles▪ of Lincolns Inn in the County of Midlesex Knt: His Majestyes Solicitor Genll:
To Joseph Jekyll of the middle Temple Esq
To Thomas Vernon of Hanbury in Worcester - Shire Esq
To William Dobyns of Lincolns Inn Esq.
The Second Book of the Georgics.
The Subject of the following Book is Planting. In handling of which Argument, the Poet shews all the different Methods of raising Trees: Describes their Variety; and gives Rules for the management of each in particular. He then points out the Soils in which the several Plants thrive best: And thence takes occasion to run out into the Praises of Italy. After which he gives some Directions for discovering the Nature of every Soil; prescribes Rules for the Dressing of Vines, Olives, &c. And concludes the Georgic with a Panegyric on a Country Life.
To Sr: William Bowyer Baronet of Denham Court in the County of Bucks.
To Gilbert Dolbin of Thindon in Northampton-Shire Esq
To George London of his maties: Royall Garden in St James^'s Park Gent.
To John Loving Esq of Little Ealing in the County of Middlesex.
To William Walsh of Abberley in Worcester-shire Esq
The Third Book of the Georgics.
This Book begins with an Invocation of some Rural Deities, and a Compliment to Augustus: After which Virgil directs himself to Mecaenas, and enters on his Subject. He lays down Rules for the Breeding and Management of Horses, Oxen, Sheep, Goats, and Dogs: And interweaves several pleasant Descriptions of a Chariot-Race, of the Battel of the Bulls, of the Force of Love, and of the Scythian Winter. In the latter part of the Book he relates the Diseases incident to Cattel; and ends with the Description of a fatal Murrain that formerly rag'd among the Alps.
To the most Noble and Illustrious Prince Charles Duke of Richmond and Lenox Earl of Marsh and Darnley Baron of Siterington Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter.
To Sr Iustinian Isham of Lamport in Northampton Shire Barronet
To the Right Worshipfull Sr. Thomas Mompesson of Bathampton in the County of Wilts, Knight.
To John Dormer of Rowshan in the County of Oxford Esq
To Fredrick Filney of Filney Hall in Hant-Shire Esq
The Fourth Book of the Georgics.
Virgil has taken care to raise the Subject of each Georgic: In the First he has only dead Matter on which to work. In the second he just steps on the World of Life, and describes that degree of it which is to be found in Vegetables. In the third he advances to Animals. And in the last, singles out the Bee, which may be reckon'd the most sagacious of 'em, for his Subject.
In this Georgic he shews us what Station is most proper for the Bees, and when they begin to gather Honey: how to call 'em home when they swarm; and how to part 'em when they are engag'd in Battel. From hence he takes occasion to discover their different Kinds; and, after an Excursion relates their prudent and politick Administration of Affairs and the several Diseases that often rage in their Hives, with the proper Symptoms and Remedies of each Disease. In the last place he lays down a method of repairing their Kind, supposing their whole Breed lost; and gives at large the History of its Invention.
To Richard Norton of Southwick in Hant-shire Esq.
To the Right Honble: Sr. William Trumbull Kt. Principall Secretary of State & one of his Maities: Most Honble: Priry Councill.
To Sr Bartholomen Shower of the Midle Temple. Knt.
To Simon Harcourt of Stanton Harcourt in the County of Oxon Esq..
To the Honble: John Granville second Son to John EARL of BATH one of the Com•s: appointed by Act of Parliamt: for Examining Taking & Stating the Publick Accounts of the Kingdome.
TO THE MOST HONOURABLE John, Lord Marquess of Normanby, EARL of MULGRAVE, &c. AND Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter.
A HEROICK Poem, truly such, is undoubtedly the greatest Work which the Soul of Man is capable to perform. The Design of it, is to form the Mind to Heroick Virtue by Example; 'tis convey'd in Verse, that it may delight, while it instructs: The Action of it is always one, entire, and great. The least and most trivial Episodes, or under-Actions, which are interwoven in it, are parts either necessary, or convenient to carry on the main Design. Either so necessary, that without them the Poem must be Imperfect, or so convenient, that no others can be imagin'd more suitable to the place in which they are. There is nothing to be left void in a firm Building; even the Cavities ought not to be fill'd with Rubbish, which is of a perishable kind, destructive to the strength: But with Brick or Stone, though of less pieces, yet of the same Nature, and fitted to the Cranies. Even the least portions of them must be of the Epick kind; all things must be Grave, Majestical, and Sublime: Nothing of a Foreign Nature, like the trifling Novels, which Aristotle and others have inserted in their Poems. By which the Reader is miss-led into another sort of Pleasure, opposite to that which is design'd in an Epick Poem. One raises the Soul and hardens it to Virtue, the other softens it again and unbends it into Vice. One conduces to the Poet's aim, the compleating of his Work; which he is driving on, labouring and hast'ning in every Line: the other slackens his pace, diverts him from his Way, and locks him up like a Knight Errant in an Enchanted Castle, when he should be pursuing his first Adventure. Statius, as Bossu has well observ'd, was ambitious of trying his strength with his Master Virgil, as Virgil had before try'd his with Homer. The Grecian gave the two Romans an Example, in the Games which were Celebrated at the Funerals of Patroclus. Virgil imitated the Invention of Homer, but chang'd the Sports. But both the Greek and Latin Poet, took their occasions from the Subject; though to confess the Truth, they were both Ornamental, or at best, convenient parts of it, rather than of necessity arising [Page] from it. Statius, who through his whole Poem, is noted for want of Conduct and Judgment; instead of staying, as he might have done, for the Death of Capaneus, Hippomedon, Tideus, or some other of his Seven Champions, (who are Heroes all alike) or more properly for the Tragical end of the two Brothers, whose Exequies the next Successor had leisure to perform, when the Siege was rais'd, and in the Interval betwixt the Poets first Action, and his second; went out of his way, as it were on propense Malice to commit a Fault. For he took his opportunity to kill a Royal Infant, by the means of a Serpent, (that Author of all Evil) to make way for those Funeral Honours, which he intended for him. Now if this Innocent had been of any Relation to his Thebais; if he had either farther'd or hinder'd the taking of the Town, the Poet might have found some sorry Excuse at least, for detaining the Reader from the promis'd Siege. I can think of nothing to plead for him, but what I verily believe he thought himself; which was, that as the Funerals of Anchises were solemniz'd in Sicily, so those of Archemorus should be celebrated in Candy. For the last was an Island; and a better than the first, because Jove was Born there. On these terms, this Capaneus of a Poet ingag'd his two Immortal Predecessours, and his Success was answerable to his Enterprise.
If this Oeconomy must be observ'd in the minutest Parts of an Epick Poem, which, to a common Reader, seem to be detach'd from the Body, and almost independent of it; what Soul, tho' sent into the World with great advantages of Nature, cultivated with the liberal Arts and Sciences; conversant with Histories of the Dead, and enrich'd with Observations on the Living, can be sufficient to inform the whole Body of so great a Work? I touch here but transiently, without any strict Method, on some few of those many Rules of imitating Nature, which Aristotle drew from Homer's Iliads and Odysses, and which he fitted to the Drama; furnishing himself also with Observations from the Practice of the Theater, when it flourish'd under Aeschilus, Eurypides, and Sophocles. For the Original of the Stage was from the Epick Poem. Narration, doubtless, preceded Acting, and gave Laws to it: What at first was told Artfully, was, in process of time, represented gracefully to the sight, and hearing. Those Episodes of Homer, which were proper for the Stage, the Poets amplify'd each into an Action: Out of his Limbs they form'd their Bodies: What he had Contracted they Enlarg'd: Out of one Hercules were made infinite of Pigmies; yet all endued with humane Souls: For from him, their great Creator, they have each of them the Divinae particulam Aurae. They flow'd from him at first, and are at last resolv'd into him. Nor were they only animated by him, but their Measure and Symetry was owing to him. His one, entire, and great Action was Copied by them according to the proportions of the Drama: If he finish'd his Orb within the Year, it suffic'd to teach them, that their Action being less, and being also less diversify'd with Incidents, their Orb, of consequence, must be circumscrib'd in a less compass, which they reduc'd, within the limits either of a Natural or an Artificial Day. So that as he taught them to amplifie what he had shorten'd, by the same Rule apply'd the contrary way, he taught them to shorten what he had amplifi'd. Tragedy is the minature of Humane Life; an Epick Poem is the draught at length. Here, my Lord, I must contract also, for, before I was aware, I was almost running into a long digression, to prove that there is no such absolute necessity that the [Page] time of a Stage-Action shou'd so strictly be confin'd to Twenty Four Hours, as never to exceed them, for which Aristotle contends, and the Grecian Stage has practis'd. Some longer space, on some occasions, I think may be allow'd, especially for the English Theater, which requires more variety of Incidents than the French. Corneille himself, after long Practice, was inclin'd to think, that the time allotted by the Ancients was too short to raise and finish a great Action: And better a Mechanick Rule were stretch'd or broken, than a great Beauty were omitted. To raise, and afterwards to calm the Passions, to purge the Soul from Pride, by the Examples of Humane Miseries, which befall the greatest; in few words, to expel Arrogance, and introduce Compassion, are the great effects of Tragedy. Great, I must confess, if they were altogether as true as they are pompous. But are Habits to be introduc'd at three Hours warning? Are radical Diseases so suddenly remov'd? A Mountebank may promise such a Cure, but a skilful Physician will not undertake it. An Epick Poem is not in so much haste; it works leisurely; the Changes which it makes are slow; but the Cure is likely to be more perfect. The effects of Tragedy, as I said, are too violent to be lasting. If it be answer'd that for this Reason Tragedies are often to be seen, and the Dose to be repeated; this is tacitely to confess, that there is more Virtue in one Heroick Poem than in many Tragedies. A Man is humbled one Day, and his Pride returns the next. Chymical Medicines are observ'd to Relieve oft'ner than to Cure: For 'tis the nature of Spirits to make swift impressions, but not deep. Galenical Decoctions, to which I may properly compare an Epick Poem, have more of Body in them; they work by their substance and their weight. It is one Reason of Aristotle's to prove, that Tragedy is the more Noble, because it turns in a shorter Compass; the whole Action being circumscrib'd within the space of Four-and-Twenty Hours. He might prove as well that a Mushroom is to be preferr'd before a Peach, because it shoots up in the compass of a Night. A Chariot may be driven round the Pillar in less space than a large Machine, because the Bulk is not so great: Is the Moon a more Noble Planet than Saturn, because she makes her Revolution in less than Thirty Days, and He in little less than Thirty Years? Both their Orbs are in proportion to their several Magnitudes; and, consequently, the quickness or slowness of their Motion, and the time of their circumvolutions, is no Argument of the greater or less Perfection. And besides, what Virtue is there in a Tragedy, which is not contain'd in an Epick Poem? Where Pride is humbled, Vertue rewarded, and Vice punish'd; and those more amply treated, than the narrowness of the Drama can admit? The shining Qualitiy of an Epick Heroe, his Magnanimity, his Constancy, his Patience, his Piety, or whatever Characteristical Virtue his Poet gives him, raises first our Admiration: We are naturally prone to imitate what we admire: And frequent Acts produce a habit. If the Hero's chief quality be vicious, as for Example, the Choler and obstinate desire of Vengeance in Achilles, yet the Moral is Instructive: And besides, we are inform'd in the very proposition of the Iliads, that this anger was pernicious: That it brought a thousand ills on the Grecian Camp. The Courage of Achilles is propos'd to imitation, not his Pride and Disobedience to his General, nor his brutal Cruelty to his dead Enemy, nor the selling his Body to his Father. We abhor these Actions while we read them, and what we abhor we never imitate: The Poet only shews them like Rocks or Quick-Sands, to be shun'd.
[Page] By this Example the Criticks have concluded that it is not necessary the Manners of the Heroe should be virtuous. They are Poetically good if they are of a Piece. Though where a Character of perfect Virtue is set before us, 'tis more lovely: for there the whole Heroe is to be imitated. This is the Aeneas of our Author: this is that Idea of perfection in an Epick Poem, which Painters and Statuaries have only in their minds; and which no hands are able to express. These are the Beauties of a God in a Humane Body. When the Picture of Achilles is drawn in Tragedy, he is taken with those Warts, and Moles, and hard Features, by those who represent him on the Stage, or he is no more Achilles: for his Creatour Homer has so describ'd him. Yet even thus he appears a perfect Heroe, though an imperfect Character of Vertue. Horace Paints him after Homer, and delivers him to be Copied on the Stage with all those imperfections. Therefore they are either not faults in a Heroick Poem, or faults common to the Drama. After all, on the whole merits of the Cause, it must be acknowledg'd that the Epick Poem is more for the Manners, and Tragedy for the Passions. The Passions, as I have said, are violent: and acute Distempers require Medicines of a strong and speedy operation. Ill habits of the Mind are like Chronical Diseases, to be corrected by degrees, and Cur'd by Alteratives: wherein though Purges are sometimes necessary, yet Diet, good Air, and moderate Exercise, have the greatest part. The Matter being thus stated, it will appear that both sorts of Poetry are of use for their proper ends. The Stage is more active, the Epick Poem works at greater leisure, yet is active too, when need requires. For Dialogue is imitated by the Drama, from the more active parts of it. One puts off a Fit like the Quinquina, and relieves us only for a time; the other roots out the Distemper, and gives a healthful habit. The Sun enlightens and chears us, dispels Fogs, and warms the ground with his daily Beams; but the Corn is sow'd, increases, is ripen'd, and is reap'd for use in process of time, and in its proper Season. I proceed from the greatness of the Action, to the Dignity of the Actours, I mean to the Persons employ'd in both Poems. There likewise Tragedy will be seen to borrow from the Epopee; and that which borrows is always of less Dignity, because it has not of its own. A Subject, 'tis true, may lend to his Soveraign, but the act of borrowing makes the King inferiour, because he wants, and the Subject supplies. And suppose the Persons of the Drama wholly Fabulous, or of the Poet's Invention, yet Heroick Poetry gave him the Examples of that Invention, because it was first, and Homer the common Father of the Stage. I know not of any one advantage, which Tragedy can boast above Heroick Poetry, but that it is represented to the view, as well as read: and instructs in the Closet, as well as on the Theatre. This is an uncontended Excellence, and a chief Branch of its Prerogative; yet I may be allow'd to say without partiality, that herein the Actors share the Poet's praise. Your Lordship knows some Modern Tragedies which are beautiful on the Stage, and yet I am confident you wou'd not read them. Tryphon the Stationer complains they are seldom ask'd for in his Shop. The Poet who Flourish'd in the Scene, is damn'd in the Ruelle; nay more, he is not esteem'd a good Poet by those who see and hear his Extravagancies with delight. They are a sort of stately Fustian, and lofty Childishness. Nothing but Nature can give a sincere pleasure; where that is not imitated, 'tis Grotesque Painting, the fine Woman ends in a Fishes Tail.
I might also add, that many things, which not only please, but are [Page] real Beauties in the reading, wou'd appear absurd upon the Stage: and those not only the Speciosa Miracula, as Horace calls them; of Transformations, of Scylla, Antiphates, and the Lestrigons, which cannot be represented even in Opera's; but the prowess of Achilles or Aeneas wou'd appear ridiculous in our Dwarf-Heroes of the Theatre. We can believe they routed Armies in Homer or in Virgil, but ne Hercules contraduos in the Drama. I forbear to instance in many things which the Stage cannot or ought not to represent. For I have said already more than I intended on this Subject, and shou'd fear it might be turn'd against me; that I plead for the pre-eminence of Epick Poetry, because I have taken some pains in translating Virgil; if this were the first time that I had deliver'd my Opinion in this Dispute. But I have more than once already maintain'd the Rights of my two Masters against their Rivals of the Scene, even while I wrote Tragedies my self, and had no thoughts of this present Undertaking. I submit my Opinion to your Judgment, who are better qualified than any Man I know to decide this Controversie. You come, my Lord, instructed in the Cause, and needed not that I shou'd open it. Your Essay of Poetry, which was publish'd without a Name, and of which I was not honour'd with the Confidence, I read over and over with much delight, and as much instruction: and, without flattering you, or making my self more Moral than I am, not without some Envy. I was loath to be inform'd how an Epick Poem shou'd be written, or how a Tragedy shou'd be contriv'd and manag'd in better Verse and with more judgment than I cou'd teach others. A Native of Parnassus, and bred up in the Studies of its Fundamental Laws, may receive new Lights from his Contemporaries, but 'tis a grudging kind of praise which he gives his Benefactors. He is more oblig'd than he is willing to acknowledge: there is a tincture of Malice in his Commendations. For where I own I am taught, I confess my want of Knowledge. A Judge upon the Bench, may, out of good Nature, or at least interest, encourage the Pleadings of a puny Councellor, but he does not willingly commend his Brother Serjeant at the Bar, especially when he controuls his Law, and exposes that ignorance which is made Sacred by his Place. I gave the unknown Author his due Commendation, I must consess, but who can answer for me, and for the rest of the Poets, who heard me read the Poem, whether we shou'd not have been better pleas'd to have seen our own Names at the bottom of the Title Page? perhaps we commended it the more, that we might seem to be above the Censure. We are naturally displeas'd with an unknown Critick, as the Ladies are with a Lampooner, because we are bitten in the dark, and know not where to fasten our Revenge. But great Excellencies will work their way through all sorts of opposition. I applauded rather out of decency than Affection; and was Ambitious, as some yet can witness, to be acquainted with a Man, with whom I had the honour to Converse, and that almost daily, for so many years together. Heaven knows if I have heartily forgiven you this deceit. You extorted a Praise which I shou'd willingly have given had I known you. Nothing had been more easie than to commend a Patron of a long standing. The World wou'd joyn with me, if the Encomiums were just; and if unjust, wou'd excuse a grateful Flatterer. But to come Anonymous upon me, and force me to commend you against my interest, was not altogether so fair, give me leave to say, as it was Politick. For by concealing your Quality, you might clearly understand how your Work [Page] succeeded; and that the general approbation was given to your Merit not your Titles. Thus like Apelles you stood unseen behind your own Venus, and receiv'd the praises of the passing Multitude: the Work was commended, not the Author: And I doubt not this was one of the most pleasing Adventures of your Life.
I have detain'd your Lordship longer than I intended in this Dispute of preference betwixt the Epick Poem, and the Dramae: and yet have not formally answer'd any of the Arguments which are brought by Aristotle on the other side, and set in the fairest light by Dacier. But I suppose, without looking on the Book, I may have touch'd on some of the Objections. For in this Address to your Lordship, I design not a Treatise of Heroick Poetry, but write in a loose Epistolary way, somewhat tending to that Subject, after the Example of Horace, in his First Epistle of the Second Book to Augustus Caesar, and of that to the Piso's, which we call his Art of Poetry. In both of which he observes no Method that I can trace, whatever Scaliger the Father, or Heinsius may have seen, or rather think they had seen. I have taken up, laid down, and resum'd as often as I pleas'd the same Subject: and this loose proceeding I shall use thro' all this Prefatory Dedication. Yet all this while I have been Sailing with some side-wind or other toward the Point I propos'd in the beginning; the Greatness and Excellency of an Heroick Poem, with some of the difficulties which attend that work. The Comparison therefore which I made betwixt the Epopee and the Tragedy was not altogether a digression; for 'tis concluded on all hands, that they are both the Master-pieces of Humane Wit.
In the mean time I may be bold to draw this Corollary from what has been already said, That the File of Heroick Poets is very short: all are not such who have assum'd that lofty Title in Ancient or Modern Ages, or have been so esteem'd by their partial and ignorant Admirers.
There have been but one great Ilias and one Aeneis in so many Ages. The next, but the next with a long interval betwixt, was the Jerusalem: I mean not so much in distance of time, as in Excellency. After these three are entred, some Lord Chamberlain should be appointed, some Critick of Authority shou'd be set before the door, to keep out a Crowd of little Poets, who press for Admission, and are not of Quality. Maevius wou'd be deafning your Lordship's Ears with his ‘Fortunam Priami, Cantabo, & Nobile Bellum.’ meer Fustian, as Horace would tell you from behind, without pressing forward, and more smoak than fire. Pulci, Boyardo, and Ariosto, wou'd cry out, make room for the Italian Poets, the descendants of Virgil in a right Line. Father Le Moin with his Saint Louis; and Scudery with his Alaric, for a godly King, and a Gothick Conquerour; and Chapelain wou'd take it ill that his Maid shou'd be refus'd a place with Helen and Lavinia. Spencer has a better plea for his Fairy-Queen, had his action been finish'd, or had been one. And Milton, if the Devil had not been his Heroe instead of Adam, if the Gyant had not foil'd the Knight, and driven him out of his strong hold, to wander through the World with his Lady Errant: and if there had not been more Machining Persons than Humane, in his Poem. After these, the rest of our English Poets shall not be mention'd. I have that Honour for them which I ought to have: but if they are Worthies, they are not to be rank'd amongst [Page] the three whom I have nam'd, and who are establish'd in their Reputation.
Before I quitted the Comparison betwixt Epick Poetry and Tragedy, I shou'd have acquainted my Judge with one advantage of the former over the latter, which I now casually remember out of the Preface of Segrais before his Translation of the Aeneis, or out of Bossu, no matter which. The stile of the Heroick Poem is and ought to be more lofty than that of the Drama. The Critick is certainly in the right, for the Reason already urg'd: The work of Tragedy is on the Passions, and in Dialogue, both of them abhor strong Metaphors, in which the Epopee delights. A Poet cannot speak too plainly on the Stage: for Volat irrevocabile verbum; the sense is lost if it be not taken flying: but what we read alone we have leisure to digest. There an Author may beautifie his Sense by the boldness of his Expression, which if we understand not fully at the first, we may dwell upon it, 'till we find the secret force and excellence. That which cures the Manners by alterative Physick, as I said before, must proceed by insensible degrees; but that which purges the Passions, must do its business all at once, or wholly fail of its effect, at least in the present Operation, and without repeated Doses. We must beat the Iron while 'tis hot, but we may polish it at leisure. Thus, my Lord, you pay the Fine of my forgetfulness, and yet the merits of both Causes are where they were, and undecided, 'till you declare whether it be more for the benefit of Mankind to have their Manners in general corrected, or their Pride and hard-heartedness remov'd.
I must now come closer to my present business: and not think of making more invasive Wars abroad, when like Hannibal, I am call'd back to the defence of my own Country. Virgil is attack'd by many Enemies: He has a whole Confederacy against him, and I must endeavour to defend him as well as I am able. But their principal Objections being against his Moral, the duration or length of time taken up in the action of the Poem, and what they have to urge against the Manners of his Hero, I shall omit the rest as meer Cavils of Grammarians: at the worst but casual slips of a Great Man's Pen, or inconsiderable faults of an admirable Poem, which the Author had not leisure to review before his Death. Macrobius has answer'd what the Ancients cou'd urge against him: and some things I have lately read in Tanneguy le Fevrè, Valois, and another whom I name not, which are scarce worth answering. They begin with the Moral of his Poem, which I have elsewhere confess'd, and still must own not to be so Noble as that of Homer. But let both be fairly stated, and without contradicting my first Opinion, I can shew that Virgil's was as useful to the Romans of his Age, as Homer's was to the Grecians of his; in what time soever he may be suppos'd to have liv'd and flourish'd. Homer's Moral was to urge the necessity of Union, and of a good understanding betwixt Confederate States and Princes engag'd in a War with a Mighty Monarch: as also of Discipline in an Army, and obedience in the several Chiefs, to the Supream Commander of the joynt Forces. To inculcate this, he sets forth the ruinous Effects of Discord in the Camp of those Allies, occasion'd by the quarrel betwixt the General, and one of the next in Office under him. Agamemnon gives the provocation, and Achilles resents the injury. Both Parties are faulty in the Quarrel, and accordingly they are both punish'd: the Agressor is forc'd to sue for peace to his Inferiour, on dishonourable Conditions; the Deserter [Page] resuses the satisfaction offer'd, and his Obstinacy costs him his best Friend. This works the Natural Effect of Choler, and turns his Rage against him, by whom he was last Affronted, and most sensibly. The greater Anger expels the less; but his Caracter is still preserv'd. In the mean time the Grecian Army receives Loss on Loss, and is half destroy'd by a Pestilence into the Bargain.
As the Poet, in the first part of the Example, had shewn the bad effects of Discord, so after the Reconcilement, he gives the good effects of Unity. For Hector is slain, and then Troy must fall. By this, 'tis probable, that Homer liv'd when the Persian Monarchy was grown formidable to the Grecians: and that the joint Endeavours of his Country-men, were little enough to preserve their common Freedom, from an encroaching Enemy. Such was his Moral, which all Criticks have allow'd to be more Noble than that of Virgil: though not adapted to the times in which the Roman Poet liv'd. Had Virgil flourish'd in the Age of Ennius, and address'd to Scipio, he had probably taken the same Moral, or some other not unlike it. For then the Romans were in as much danger from the Carthaginian Commonwealth, as the Grecians were from the Persian Monarchy. But we are to consider him as writing his Poem in a time when the Old Form of Government was subverted, and a new one just Established by Octavius Caesar: In effect by force of Arms, but seemingly by the Consent of the Roman People. The Commonwealth had receiv'd a deadly Wound in the former Civil Wars betwixt Marius and Sylla. The Commons, while the first prevail'd, had almost shaken off the Yoke of the Nobility; and Marius and Cinna, like the Captains of the Mobb, under the specious Pretence of the Publick Good, and of doing Justice on the Oppressours of their Liberty, reveng'd themselves, without Form of Law, on their private Enemies. Sylla, in his turn, proscrib'd the Heads of the adverse Party: He too had nothing but Liberty and Reformation in his Mouth; (for the Cause of Religion is but a Modern Motive to Rebellion, invented by the Christian Priesthood, refining on the Heathen:) Sylla, to be sure, meant no more good to the Roman People than Marius before him, whatever he declar'd; but Sacrific'd the Lives, and took the Estates of all his Enemies, to gratifie those who brought him into Power: Such was the Reformation of the Government by both Parties. The Senate and the Commons were the two Bases on which it stood; and the two Champions of either Faction, each destroy'd the Foundations of the other side: So the Fabrique of consequence must fall betwxt them: And Tyranny must be built upon their Ruines. This comes of altering Fundamental Laws and Constitutions. Like him, who being in good Health, lodg'd himself in a Physician's House, and was over-perswaded by his Landlord to take Physick, of which he dyed, for the benefit of his Doctor. Stavo ben (was written on his Monument) ma, perstar meglio, sto qui.
After the Death of those two Usurpers, the Commonwealth seem'd to recover, and held up its Head for a little time: But it was all the while in a deep Consumption, which is a flattering Disease. Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar, had found the Sweets of Arbitrary Power; and each being a check to the others growth, struck up a false Friendship amongst themselves; and divided the Government betwixt them, [Page] which none of them was able to assume alone. These were the publick Spirited Men of their Age, that is, Patriots for their own Interest. The Commonwealth look'd with a florid Countenance in their Management, spread in Bulk, and all the while was wasting in the Vitals. Not to trouble your Lordship with the Repetition of what you know: After the death of Crassus, Pompey found himself out-witted by Caesar; broke with him, over-power'd him in the Senate, and caus'd many unjust Decrees to pass against him: Caesar thus injur'd, and unable to resist the Faction of the Nobles, which was now uppermost (for he was a Marian) had recourse to Arms; and his Cause was just against Pompey, but not against his Country, whose Constitution ought to have been sacred to him; and never to have been Violated on the account of any private Wrong. But he prevail'd, and Heav'n declaring for him, he became a Providential Monarch, under the Title of Perpetual Dictator. He being Murther'd by his own Son, whom I neither dare commend, nor can justly blame (though Dante in his Inferno, has put him and Cassius, and Judas Iscariot betwixt them, into the great Devil's Mouth) the Commonwealth popp'd up its Head for the third time, under Brutus and Cassius, and then sunk for ever.
Thus the Roman People were grosly gull'd: twice or thrice over: and as often enslav'd in one Century, and under the same pretence of Reformation. At last the two Battles of Philippi, gave the decisive stroak against Liberty; and not long after, the Commonwealth was turn'd into a Monarchy, by the Conduct and good Fortune of Augustus. 'Tis true, that the despotick Power could not have fallen into better Hands, than those of the first and second Caesar. Your Lordship well knows what Obligations Virgil had to the latter of them: He saw, beside, that the Commonwealth was lost without ressource: The Heads of it destroy'd; the Senate new moulded, grown degenerate; and either bought off, or thrusting their own Necks into the Yoke, out of fear of being forc'd. Yet I may safely affirm for our great Author (as Men of good Sense are generally Honest) that he was still of Republick principles in Heart.
I think, I need use no other Argument to justify my Opinion, than that of this one Line, taken from the Eighth Book of the Eneis. If he had not well studied his Patron's Temper, it might have Ruin'd him with another Prince. But Augustus was not discontented, at least that we can find, that Cato was plac'd, by his own Poet, in Elisium; and there giving Laws to the Holy Souls, who deserv'd to be separated from the Vulgar sort of good Spirits. For his Conscience could not but whisper to the Arbitrary Monarch, that the Kings of Rome were at first Elective, and Govern'd not without a Senate: That Romulus was no Hereditary Prince, and though, after his Death, he receiv'd Divine Honours, for the good he did on Earth, yet he was but a God of their own making: that the last Tarquin was Expell'd justly, for Overt-Acts of Tyranny, and Male-Administration; for such are the Conditions of an Elective Kingdom: And I meddle not with others: being, for my own Opinion, of Montaigns Principles, that an Honest Man ought to be contented with that Form of Government, and with those Fundamental Constitutions of it, which he receiv'd from his Ancestors, and under which himself was [Page] Born: Though at the same time he confess'd freely, that if he could have chosen his Place of Birth, it shou'd have been at Venice: Which for many Reasons I dislike, and am better pleas'd to have been born an English Man.
But to return from my long rambling: I say that Virgil having maturely weigh'd the Condition of the Times in which he liv'd: that an entire Liberty was not to be retriev'd: that the present Settlement had the prospect of a long continuance in the same Family, or those adopted into it: that he held his Paternal Estate from the Bounty of the Conqueror, by whom he was likewise enrich'd, esteem'd and cherish'd: that this Conquerour, though of a bad kind, was the very best of it: that the Arts of Peace flourish'd under him: that all Men might be happy if they would be quiet: that now he was in possession of the whole, yet he shar'd a great part of his Authority with the Senate: That he would be chosen into the Ancient Offices of the Commonwealth, and Rul'd by the Power which he deriv'd from them; and Prorogu'd his Government from time to time: Still, as it were, threatning to dismiss himself from Publick Cares, which he exercis'd more for the common Good, than for any delight he took in greatness: These things, I say, being consider'd by the Poet, he concluded it to be the Interest of his Country to be so Govern'd: To infuse an awful Respect into the People, towards such a Prince: By that respect to confirm their Obedience to him; and by that Obedience to make them Happy. This was the Moral of his Divine Poem: Honest in the Poet: Honourable to the Emperour, whom he derives from a Divine Extraction; and reflecting part of that Honour on the Roman People, whom he derives also from the Trojans; and not only profitable, but necessary to the present Age; and likely to be such to their Posterity. That it was the receiv'd Opinion, that the Romans were descended from the Trojans, and Julius Caesar from Julus the Son of Aeneas, was enough for Virgil; tho' perhaps he thought not so himself: Or that Aeneas ever was in Italy, which Bochartus manifestly proves. And Homer, where he says that Jupiter hated the House of Priam, and was resolv'd to transfer the Kingdom to the Family of Aeneas, yet mentions nothing of his leading a Colony into a Foreign Country, and setling there: But that the Romans valued themselves on their Trojan Ancestry, is so undoubted a Truth, that I need not prove it. Even the Seals which we have remaining of Julius Caesar, which we know to be Antique, have the Star of Venus over them, though they were all graven after his Death, as a Note that he was Deifi'd. I doubt not but it was one Reason, why Augustus should be so passionately concern'd for the preservation of the Aeneis, which its Author had Condemn'd to be Burnt, as an Imperfect Poem, by his last Will and Testament; was, because it did him a real Service as well as an Honour; that a Work should not be lost where his Divine Original was Celebrated in Verse, which had the Character of Immortality stamp'd upon it.
Neither were the great Roman Families which flourish'd in his time, less oblig'd by him than the Emperour. Your Lordship knows with what Address he makes mention of them, as Captains of Ships, or Leaders in the War; and even some of Italian Extraction are not forgotten. These are the single Stars which are sprinkled through the Aeneis: But there are whole Constellations of them in the Fifth Book. And I could not but take notice, when I Translated it, of some Favourite [Page] Families to which he gives the Victory, and awards the Prizes, in the Person of his Heroe, at the Funeral Games which were Celebrated in Honour of Anchises. I, Insist not on their Names: But am pleas'd to find the Memmii amongst them, deriv'd from Mnestheus, because Lucretius Dedicates to one of that Family, a Branch of which destroy'd Corinth. I likewise either found or form'd an Image to my self of the contrary kind; that those who lost the Prizes, were such as had disoblig'd the Poet, or were in disgrace with Augustus, or Enemies to Mecenas: And this was the Poetical Revenge he took. For genus irritabile Vatum, as Horace says. When a Poet is throughly provok'd, he will do himself Justice, however dear it cost him, Animamque, in Vulnere ponit. I think these are not bare Imaginations of my own, though I find no trace of them in the Commentatours: But one Poet may judge of another by himself. The Vengeance we defer, is not forgotten. I hinted before, that the whole Roman People were oblig'd by Virgil, in deriving them from Troy; an Ancestry which they affected. We, and the French are of the same Humour: They would be thought to descend from a Son, I think, of Hector: And we wou'd have our Britain, both Nam'd and Planted by a descendant of Aeneas. Spencer favours this Opinion what he can. His Prince Arthur, or whoever he intends by him, is a Trojan. Thus the Heroe of Homer was a Grecian, of Virgil a Roman, of Tasso an Italian.
I have transgress'd my Bounds, and gone farther than the Moral led me. But if your Lordship is not tir'd, I am safe enough.
Thus far, I think, my Author is defended. But as Augustus is still shadow'd in the Person of Aeneas, of which I shall say more, when I come to the Manners which the Poet gives his Hero: I must prepare that Subject by shewing how dext'rously he mannag'd both the Prince and People, so as to displease neither, and to do good to both, which is the part of a Wise and an Honest Man: And proves that it is possible for a Courtier not to be a Knave: I shall continue still to speak my Thoughts like a free-born Subject as I am; though such things, perhaps, as no Dutch Commentator cou'd, and I am sure no French-man durst. I have already told your Lordship my Opinion of Virgil; that he was no Arbitrary Man. Oblig'd he was to his Master for his Bounty, and he repays him with good Counsel, how to behave himself in his new Monarchy, so as to gain the Affections of his Subjects, and deserve to be call'd the Father of his Country. From this Consideration it is, that he chose for the ground-work of his Poem, one Empire destroy'd, and another rais'd from the Ruins of it. This was just the Parallel. Aeneas cou'd not pretend to be Priam's Heir in a Lineal Succession: For Anchises the Heroe's Father, was only of the second Branch of the Royal Family: And Helenus, a Son of Priam, was yet surviving, and might lawfully claim before him. It may be Virgil mentions him on that Account. Neither has he forgotten Atis, in the Fifth of his Aeneis, the Son of Polites, youngest Son to Priam; who was slain by Pyrrhus, in the Second Book. Atis, then, the Favourite Companion of Ascanius, had a better Right than he; tho' I know he was introduc'd by Virgil, to do Honour to the Family, from which Julius Caesar was descended by the Mothers side. Aeneas had only Married Creusa, Priam's Daughter, and by her could have no Title, while any of the Male Issue were remaining. In this case, the Poet gave him the next Title, which is, that of an Elective King. The remaining Trojans chose him to lead them forth, [Page] and settle them in some Foreign Country. Ilioneus in his Speech to Dido, calls him expresly by the Name of King. Our Poet, who all this while had Augustus in his Eye, had no desire he should seem to succeed by any right of Inheritance, deriv'd from Julius Caesar; such a Title being but one degree remov'd from Conquest. For what was introduc'd by force, by force may be remov'd. 'Twas better for the People that they should give, than he should take. Since that Gift was indeed no more at bottom than a Trust. Virgil gives us an Example of this, in the Person of Mezentius. He Govern'd Arbitrarily, he was expell'd: And came to the deserv'd End of all Tyrants. Our Author shews us another sort of Kingship in the Person of Latinus. He was descended from Saturn, and as I remember, in the Third Degree. He is describ'd a just and a gracious Prince; solicitous for the Welfare of his People; always Consulting with his Senate to promote the common Good. We find him at the head of them, when he enters into the Council-Hall. Speaking first, but still demanding their Advice, and steering by it as far as the Iniquity of the Times wou'd suffer him. And this is the proper Character of a King by Inheritance, who is born a Father of his Country. Aeneas, tho' he Married the Heiress of the Crown, yet claim'd no Title to it during the Life of his Father-in-Law. Pater arma Latinus habeto, &c. are Virgil's Words. As for himself, he was contented to take care of his Country Gods, who were not those of Latium. Wherein our Divine Author seems to relate to the after practice of the Romans, which was to adopt the Gods of those they Conquer'd, or receiv'd as Members of their Commonwealth. Yet withal, he plainly touches at the Office of the High Priesthood, with which Augustus was invested: And which made his Person more Sacred and inviolable, than even the Tribunitial Power. It was not therefore for nothing, that the most Judicious of all Poets, made that Office vacant, by the Death of Panthus, in the Second Book of the Aeneis, for his Heroe ro succeed in it; and consequently for Augustus to enjoy. I know not that any of the Commentatours have taken notice of that passage. If they have not, I am sure they ought: And if they have, I am not indebted to them for the Observation: The words of Virgil are very plain.
As for Augustus, or his Uncle Julius, claiming by descent from Aeneas; that Title is already out of doors. Aeneas succeeded not, but was Elected. Troy was fore-doom'd to fall for ever.
Augustus 'tis true, had once resolv'd to re-build that City, and there to make the Seat of Empire: But Horace writes an Ode on purpose to deter him from that Thought; declaring the place to be accurs'd, and that the Gods would as often destroy it as it shou'd be rais'd. Hereupon the Emperour laid aside a Project so ungrateful to the Roman People: But by this, my Lord, we may conclude that he had still his Pedigree in his Head; and had an Itch of being thought a Divine King, if his Poets had not given him better Counsel.
I will pass by many less material Objections, for want of room to Answer them: What follows next is of great Importance, if the Criticks [Page] can make out their Charge; for 'tis levell'd at the Manners which our Poet gives his Heroe; and which are the same which were eminently seen in his Augustus. Those Manners were Piety to the Gods, and a dutiful Affection to his Father; Love to his Relations; Care of his People; Courage and Conduct in the Wars; Gratitude to those who had oblig'd him; and Justice in general to Mankind.
Piety, as your Lordship sees, takes place of all, as the chief part of his Character: And the word in Latin is more full than it can possibly be exprest in any Modern Language; for there it comprehends not only Devotion to the Gods, but Filial Love and tender Affection to Relations of all sorts. As instances of this, the Deities of Troy and his own Penates are made the Companions of his Flight: They appear to him in his Voyage, and advise him; and at last he re-places them in Italy, their Native Country. For his Father he takes him on his Back: He leads his little Son, his Wife follows him; but losing his Footsteps through Fear or Ignorance, he goes back into the midst of his Enemies to find her; and leaves not his pursute 'till her Ghost appears, to forbid his farther search. I will say nothing of his Duty to his Father while he liv'd; his Sorrow for his Death; of the Games instituted in Honour of his Memory; or seeking him, by his Command, even after Death, in the Elysian Fields. I will not mention his Tenderness for his Son, which every where is visible; Of his raising a Tomb for Polydorus, the Obsequies for Misenus, his pious remembrance of Deiphobus: The Funerals of his Nurse: His Grief for Pallas, and his Revenge taken on his Murtherer; whom, otherwise by his Natural Compassion, he had forgiven: And then the Poem had been left imperfect: For we could have had no certain prospect of his Happiness, while the last Obstacle to it was unremov'd. Of the other parts which compose his Character, as a King, or as a General, I need say nothing: The whole Aeneis is one continued Instance, of some one or other of them: And where I find any thing of them tax'd, it shall suffice me, as briefly as I can, to vindicate my Divine Master to your Lordship, and by you to the Reader. But herein, Segrais, in his admirable Preface to his Translation of the Aeneis, as the Author of the Dauphin's Virgil justly calls it; has prevented me. Him I follow; and what I borrow from him, am ready to acknowledge to him. For, impartially speaking, the French are as much better Criticks than the English, as they are worse Poets. Thus we generally allow that they better understand the management of a War, than our Islanders; but we know we are superiour to them, in the day of Battel. They value themselves on their Generals; we on our Souldiers. But this is not the proper place to decide that Question, if they make it one. I shall sayperhaps as much of other Nations, and their Poets, excepting only Tasso: and hope to make my Assertion good, which is but doing Justice to my Country. Part of which Honour will reflect on your Lordship, whose Thoughts are always just; your Numbers harmonious; your Words chosen; your Expressions strong and manly; your Verse flowing, and your turns as happy as they are easie. If you wou'd set us more Copies, your Example would make all Precepts needless. In the mean time, that little you have Written is own'd, and that particularly by the Poets, (who are a Nation not over-lavish of praise to their Contemporaries,) as a principal Ornament of our Language: But the sweetest Essences are always confin'd in the smallest Glasses.
[Page] When I speak of your Lordship, 'tis never a digression, and therefore I need beg no pardon for it; but take up Segrais where I left him: And shall use him less often than I have occasion for him. For his Preface is a perfect piece of Criticism, full and clear, and digested into an exact Method; mine is loose, and, as I intended it, Epistolary. Yet I dwell on many things which he durst not touch: For 'tis dangerous to offend an Arbitrary Master: And every Patron who has the Power of Augustus, has not his Clemency. In short, my Lord, I wou'd not Translate him, because I wou'd bring you somewhat of my own. His Notes and Observations on every Book, are of the same Excellency; and for the same Reason I omit the greater part.
He takes notice that Virgil is Arraign'd for placing Piety before Valour; and making that Piety the chief Character of his Heroe. I have said already from Bossu, that a Poet is not oblig'd to make his Heroe a Virtuous Man: Therefore neither Homer nor Tasso are to be blam'd, for giving what predominant quality they pleas'd to their first Character. But Virgil, who design'd to form a perfect Prince, and would insinuate, that Augustus, whom he calls Aeneas in his Poem, was truly such, found himself oblig'd to make him without blemish; thoroughly Virtuous; and a thorough Virtue both begins and ends in Piety. Tasso, without question, observ'd this before me; and therefore split his Heroe in two. He gave Godfrey Piety, and Rinaldo Fortitude; for their chief Qualities or Manners. Homer, who had chosen another Moral, makes both Agamemnon and Achilles vicious: For his design was to instruct in Virtue, by shewing the deformity of Vice. I avoid repetitione of that I have said above. What follows is Translated literally from Segrais.
Virgil had consider'd that the greatest Virtues of Augustus consisted in the perfect Art of Governing his People; which caus'd him to Reign for more than Forty Years in great Felicity. He consider'd that his Emperour was Valiant, Civil, Popular, Eloquent, Politick, and Religious. He has given all these Qualities to Aeneas. But knowing that Piety alone comprehends the whole Duty of Man towards the Gods; towards his County, and towards his Relations, he judg'd, that this ought to be his first Character, whom he would set for a Pattern of Perfection. In reality, they who believe that the Praises which arise from Valour, are superiour to those, which proceed from any other Virtues, have not consider'd (as they ought), that Valour, destitute of other Virtues, cannot render a Man worthy of any true esteem. That Quality which signifies no more than an intrepid Courage, may be separated from many others which are good, and accompany'd with many which are ill. A Man may be very Valiant, and yet Impious and Vicious. But the same cannot be said of Piety; which excludes all ill Qualities, and comprehends even Valour it self, with all other Qualities which are good. Can we, for Example, give the praise of Valour to a Man who shou'd see his Gods prophan'd, and shou'd want the Courage to defend them? To a Man who shou'd abandon his Father, or desert his King in his last Necessity?
Thus far Segrais, in giving the preference to Piety before Valour. I will now follow him, where he considers this Valour, or intrepid Courage, singly in it self; and this also Virgil gives to his Aeneas, and that in a Heroical Degree.
Having first concluded, that our Poet did for the best in taking the first Character of his Heroe, from that Essential Vertue on which the [Page] rest depend, he proceeds to tell us, that in the Ten Years war of Troy, he was consider'd as the second Champion of his Country; allowing Hector the first place; and this, even by the Confession of Homer, who took all occasions of setting up his own Countrymen the Grecians, and of undervaluing the Trojan Chiefs. But Virgil, (whom Segrais forgot to cite,) makes Diomede give him a higher Character for Strength and Courage. His Testimony is this in the Eleventh Book.
I give not here my Translation of these Verses; though I think I have not ill succeeded in them; because your Lordship is so great a Master of the Original, that I have no reason to desire you shou'd see Virgil and me so near together: But you may please, my Lord, to take notice, that the Latin Author refines upon the Greek; and insinuates, That Homer had done his Heroe Wrong, in giving the advantage of the Duel to his own Country-man: Though Diomedes was manifestly the second Champion of the Grecians: And Ʋlysses preferr'd him before Ajax, when he chose him for the Companion of his Nightly Expedition: For he had a Head-piece of his own; and wanted only the fortitude of another, to bring him off with safety; and that he might compass his Design with Honour.
The French Translator thus proceeds: They who accuse Aeneas for want of Courage, either understand not Virgil, or have read him slightly; otherwise they would not raise an Objection so easie to be Answer'd: Hereupon he gives so many instances of the Heroe's Valour, that to repeat them after him would tire your Lordship, and put me to the unnecessary trouble of Transcribing the greatest part of the three last Aeneids. In short, more could not be expected from an Amadis, a Sir Lancelot, or the whole round Table, than he performs. Proxima quaeque metit gladio, is the perfect Account of a Knight Errant. If it be reply'd, continues Segrais, that it was not difficult for him to undertake and atchieve such hardy Enterprizes, because he wore Enchanted Arms. That Accusation, in the first place, must fall on Homer e're it can reach Virgil. Achilles was as well provided with them as Aeneas, though he was invulnerable without them: And, Ariosto, the two Tasso's, Bernardo and Torquato, even our own Spencer; in a word, all Modern Poets have Copied Homer as well as Virgil: He is neither the first nor last; but in the midst of them; and therefore is safe if they are so. Who knows, says Segrais, but that his fated Armour was only an Allegorical Defence, and signifi'd no more than that he was under the peculiar protection of the Gods; born, as the Astrologers will tell us out of Virgil (who was well vers'd in the Chaldaean Mysteries) under the favourable influence of Jupiter, Venus, and the Sun: But I insist not on this, because I know you believe not [Page] there is such an Art: though not only Horace and Persius, but Augustus himself, thought otherwise. But in defence of Virgil, I dare positively say, that he has been more cautious in this particular than either his Predecessour, or his Descendants. For Aeneas was actually wounded, in the Twelfth of the Aeneis; though he had the same God-Smith to Forge his Arms, as had Achilles. It seems he was no War-luck, as the Scots commonly call such Men, who they say, are Iron-free, or Lead-free. Yet after this Experiment, that his Arms were not impenetrable, when he was Cur'd indeed by his Mother's help, because he was that day to conclude the War by the death of Turnus, the Poet durst not carry the Miracle too far, and restore him wholy to his former Vigour: He was still too weak to overtake his Enemy; yet we see with what Courage he attacks Turnus, when he faces and renews the Combate. I need say no more, for Virgil defends himself, without needing my assistance; and proves his Heroe truly to deserve that Name. He was not then a Second-rate Champion, as they would have him, who think Fortitude the first Vertue in a Heroe. But being beaten from this hold, they will not yet allow him to be Valiant; because he wept more often, as they think, than well becomes a Man of Courage.
In the first place, if Tears are Arguments of Cowardise, What shall I say of Homer's Heroe? shall Achilles pass for timorous because he wept? and wept on less occasions than Aeneas? Herein Virgil must be granted to have excell'd his Master. For once both Heroes are describ'd lamenting their lost Loves: Briseis was taken away by force from the Grecian: Cerusa was lost for ever to her Husband. But Achilles went roaring along the salt Sea-shore, and like a Booby, was complaining to his Mother, when he shou'd have reveng'd his Injury by Arms. Aeneas took a Nobler Course; for having secur'd his Father and his Son, he repeated all his former Dangers to have found his Wife, if she had been above ground. And here your Lordship may observe the Address of Virgil; it was not for nothing, that this Passage was related with all these tender Circumstances. Aeneas told it; Dido hear'd it: That he had been so affectionate a Husband, was no ill Argument to the coming Dowager, that he might prove as kind to her. Virgil has a thousand secret Beauties, tho' I have not leisure to remark them.
Segrais on this Subject of a Heroe's shedding Tears, observes that Historians commend Alexander for weeping, when he read the mighty Actions of Achilles. And Julius Caesar is likewise prais'd, when out of the same Noble Envy, he wept at the Victories of Alexander. But if we observe more closely, we shall find, that the tears of Aeneas were always on a laudable Occasion. Thus he weeps out of Compassion, and tenderness of Nature, when in the Temple of Carthage he beholds the Pictures of his Friends, who Sacrific'd their Lives in Defence of their Country. He deplores the lamentable End of his Pilot Palinurus; the untimely death of young Pallas his Confederate; and the rest, which I omit. Yet even for these Tears his wretched Criticks dare condemn him. They make Aeneas little better than a kind of a St. Swithen Heroe, always raining. One of these Censors is bold enough to argue him of Cowardise; when in the beginning of the First Book, he not only weeps, but trembles at an approaching Storm.
But to this I have answer'd formerly; that his fear was not for himself, but for his People. And who can give a Soveraign a better Commendation, or recommend a Heroe more to the affection of the Reader? They were threatned with a Tempest, and he wept; he was promis'd Italy, and therefore he pray'd for the accomplishment of that Promise. All this in the beginning of a Storm, therefore he shew'd the more early Piety, and the quicker sense of Compassion. Thus much I have urg'd elsewhere in the defence of Virgil; and since I have been inform'd, by Mr. Moyl, a young Gentleman, whom I can never sufficiently commend, that the Ancients accounted drowning an accursed Death. So that if we grant him to have been afraid, he had just occasion for that fear, both in relation to himself, and to his Subjects. I think our Adversaries can carry this Argument no farther, unless they tell us that he ought to have had more confidence in the promise of the Gods: But how was he assur'd that he had understood their Oracles aright? Helenus might be mistaken, Phoebus might speak doubtfully, even his Mother might flatter him, that he might prosecute his Voyage, which if it succeeded happily, he shou'd be the Founder of an Empire. For that she her self was doubtful of his Fortune, is apparent by the Address she made to Jupiter on his behalf. To which the God makes answer in these words:
Notwithstanding which, the Goddess, though comforted, was not assur'd: For even after this, through the course of the whole Aeneis, she still apprehends the interest which Juno might make with Jupiter against her Son. For it was a moot Point in Heaven, whether he cou'd alter Fate or not. And indeed, some passages in Virgil wou'd make us suspect, that he was of Opinion, Jupiter might deferr Fate, though he cou'd not alter it. For in the latter end of the Tenth Book, he introduces Juno begging for the Life of Turnus, and flattering her Husband with the power of changing Destiny. Tua qui potes, orsa reflectas. To which he graciously answers:
But that he cou'd not alter those Decrees, the King of Gods himself confesses, in the Book above cited: when he comforts Hercules, for the death of Pallas, who had invok'd his aid, before he threw his Lance at Turnus.
Where he plainly acknowledges, that he cou'd not save his own Son, or prevent the death which he foresaw. Of his power to deferr the blow, I once occasionally discours'd with that Excellent Person Sir Robert Howard: who is better conversant than any Man I know, in the Doctrine of the Stoicks, and he set me right; from the concurrent testimony of Philosophers and Poets, that Jupiter cou'd not retard the effects of Fate, even for a moment. For when I cited Virgil as favouring the contrary opinion in that Verse, ‘Tolle fugâ Turnum, at (que) instantibus eripe fatis.’
He reply'd, and I think with an exact Judgment, that when Jupiter gave Juno leave to withdraw Turnus from the present danger, it was because he certainly fore-knew that his Fatal hour was not come: that it was in Destiny for Juno at that time to save him; and that he himself obey'd Destiny, in giving her that leave.
I need say no more in justification of our Heroe's Courage, and am much deceiv'd, if he ever be attack'd on this side of his Character again. But he is Arraign'd with more shew of Reason by the Ladies; who will make a numerous Party against him, for being false to Love, in forsaking Dido. And I cannot much blame them; for to say the truth, 'tis an ill Precedent for their Gallants to follow. Yet if I can bring him off, with Flying Colours, they may learn experience at her cost; and for her sake, avoid a Cave, as the worst shelter they can chuse from a shower of Rain, especially when they have a Lover in their Company.
In the first place, Segrais observes with much accuteness, that they who blame Aeneas for his insensibility of Love, when he left Carthage, contradict their former accusation of him, for being always Crying, Compassionate, and Effeminately sensible of those Misfortunes which befell others. They give him two contrary Characters, but Virgil makes him of a piece, always grateful, always tender-hearted. But they are impudent enough to discharge themselves of this blunder, by laying the Contradiction at Virgil's door. He, they say, has shewn his Heroe with these inconsistent Characters: Acknowledging, and Ungrateful, Compassionate, and Hard-harted; but at the bottom, Fickle, and Self-interested. For Dido had not only receiv'd his weather-beaten Troops before she saw him, and given them her protection, but had also offer'd them an equal share in her Dominion.
This was an obligement never to be forgotten: and the more to be consider'd, because antecedent to her Love. That passion, 'tis true, produc'd the usual effects of Generosity, Gallantry, and care to please, and thither we referr them. But when she had made all these advances, it was still in his power to have refus'd them: After the Intrigue [Page] of the Cave, call it Marriage, or Enjoment only, he was no longer free to take or leave; he had accepted the favour, and was oblig'd to be Constant, if he wou'd be grateful.
My Lord, I have set this Argument in the best light I can, that the Ladies may not think I write booty: and perhaps it may happen to me, as it did to Doctor Cudworth, who has rais'd such strong Objections against the being of a God, and Providence, that many think he has not answer'd them. You may please at least to hear the adverse Party. Segrais pleads for Virgil, that no less than an Absolute Command from Jupiter, cou'd excuse this insensibility of the Heroe, and this abrupt departure, which looks so like extream ingratitude. But at the same time, he does wisely to remember you, that Virgil had made Piety the first Character of Aeneas: And this being allow'd, as I am afraid it must, he was oblig'd, antecedent to all other Considerations, to search an Asylum for his Gods in Italy. For those very Gods, I say, who had promis'd to his Race the Universal Empire. Cou'd a Pious Man dispence with the Commands of Jupiter to satisfie his passion; or take it in the strongest sense, to comply with the obligations of his gratitude? Religion, 'tis true, must have Moral Honesty for its groundwork, or we shall be apt to suspect its truth; but an immediate Revelation dispenses with all Duties of Morality. All Casuists agree, that Theft is a breach of the Moral Law: yet if I might presume to mingle Things Sacred with Prophane, the Israelites only spoil'd the Egyptians, not rob'd them, because the propriety was transferr'd; by a Revelation to their Law-giver. I confess Dido was a very Infidel in this Point: for she wou'd not believe, as Virgil makes her say, that ever Jupiter wou'd send Mercury on such an Immoral Errand. But this needs no Answer; at least no more than Virgil gives it: ‘Fata obstant, placidas (que) viri Deus obstruit aures.’
This notwithstanding, as Segrais confesses, he might have shewn a little more sensibility when he left her; for that had been according to his Character.
But let Virgil answer for himself; he still lov'd her; and struggled with his inclinations, to obey the Gods.
Upon the whole Matter, and humanely speaking, I doubt there was a fault somewhere; and Jupiter is better able to bear the blame, than either Virgil or Aeneas. The Poet it seems had found it out, and therefore brings the deserting Heroe and the forsaken Lady to meet together in the lower Regions; where he excuses himself when 'tis too late, and accordingly she will take no satisfaction, nor so much as hear him. Now Segrais is forc'd to abandon his defence, and excuses his Author, by saying that the Aeneis is an imperfect Work, and that Death prevented the Divine Poet from reviewing it; and for that Reason he had condemn'd it to the fire; though at the same time, his two Translators must acknowledge, that the Sixth Book is the most Correct of the whole Aeneis. Oh, how convenient is a Machine sometimes in a Heroick Poem! This of Mercury is plainly one, and Virgil was constrain'd to use it here, or the honesty of his Heroe [Page] wou'd be ill-defended. And the Fair Sex however, if they had the Desertour in their power, wou'd certainly have shewn him no more mercy, than the Bacchanals did Orpheus. For if too much Constancy may be a fault sometimes, then want of Constancy, and Ingratitude after the last Favour, is a Crime that never will be forgiven. But of Machines, more in their proper place: where I shall shew, with how much judgment they have been us'd by Virgil; and in the mean time pass to another Article of his defence on the present Subject: where if I cannot clear the Heroe, I hope at least to bring off the Poet; for here I must divide their Causes. Let Aeneas trust to his Machine, which will only help to break his Fall, but the Address is incomparable. Plato, who borrow'd so much from Homer, and yet concluded for the Banishment of all Poets, wou'd at least have Rewarded Virgil, before he sent him into Exile. But I go farther, and say, that he ought to be acquitted, and deserv'd beside, the Bounty of Augustus, and the gratitude of the Roman People. If after this, the Ladies will stand out, let them remember, that the Jury is not all agreed; for Octavia was of his Party, and was also of the first Quality in Rome; she was present at the reading of the Sixth Aeneid, and we know not that she condemn'd Aeneas; but we are sure she presented the Poet, for his admirable Elegy on her Son Marcellus.
But let us consider the secret Reasons which Virgil had, for thus framing this Noble Episode, wherein the whole passion of Love is more exactly describ'd than in any other Poet. Love was the Theme of his Fourth Book; and though it is the shortest of the whole Aeneis, yet there he has given its beginning, its progress, its traverses, and its conclusion. And had exhausted so entirely this Subject, that he cou'd resume it but very slightly in the Eight ensuing Books.
She was warm'd with the graceful appearance of the Heroe, she smother'd those Sparkles out of decency, but Conversation blew them up into a Flame. Then she was forc'd to make a Confident of her whom she best might trust, her own Sister, who approves the passion, and thereby augments it, then succeeds her publick owning it; and after that, the consummation. Of Venus and Juno, Jupiter and Mercury I say nothing, for they were all Machining work; but possession having cool'd his Love, as it increas'd hers, she soon perceiv'd the change, or at least grew suspicious of a change; this suspicion soon turn'd to Jealousie, and Jealousie to Rage; then she disdains and threatens, and again is humble, and intreats; and nothing availing, despairs, curses, and at last becomes her own Executioner. See here the whole process of that passion, to which nothing can be added. I dare go no farther, lest I shou'd lose the connection of my Discourse.
To love our Native Country, and to study its Benefit and its Glory, to be interessed in its Concerns, is Natural to all Men, and is indeed our common Duty. A Poet makes a farther step; for endeavouring to do honour to it, 'tis allowable in him even to be partial in its Cause; for he is not ty'd to truth, or fetter'd by the Laws of History. Homer and Tasso are justly prais'd for chusing their Heroes out of Greece and Italy; Virgil indeed made his a Trojan, but it was to derive the Romans, and his own Augustus from him; but all the three Poets are manifestly partial to their Heroes, in favour of their Country. For Dares Phrygius reports of Hector, that he was slain Cowardly; Aeneas according to the best account, slew not Mezentius, but was slain by him: and the Chronicles of Italy tell us little of that Rinaldo d'Estè [Page] who Conquers Jerusalem in Tasso. He might be a Champion of the Church; but we know not that he was so much as present at the Siege. To apply this to Virgil, he thought himself engag'd in Honour to espouse the Cause and Quarrel of his Country against Carthage. He knew he cou'd not please the Romans better, or oblige them more to Patronize his Poem, than by disgracing the Foundress of that City. He shews her ungrateful to the Memory of her first Husband, doting on a Stranger; enjoy'd, and afterwards forsaken by him. This was the Original, says he, of the immortal hatred betwixt the two Rival Nations. 'Tis true, he colours the falsehood of Aeneas by an express Command from Jupiter, to forsake the Queen, who had oblig'd him: but he knew the Romans were to be his Readers, and them he brib'd, perhaps at the expence of his Heroe's honesty, but he gain'd his Cause however; as Pleading before Corrupt Judges. They were content to see their Founder false to Love, for still he had the advantage of the Amour: It was their Enemy whom he forsook, and she might have forsaken him, if he had not got the start of her: she had already forgotten her Vows to her Sichaeus; and varium & mutabile semper femina, is the sharpest Satire in the fewest words that was ever made on Womankind; for both the Adjectives are Neuter, and Animal must be understood, to make them Grammar. Virgil does well to put those words into the mouth of Mercury. If a God had not spoken them, neither durst he have written them, nor I translated them. Yet the Deity was forc'd to come twice on the same Errand: and the second time, as much a Heroe as Aeneas was, he frighted him. It seems he fear'd not Jupiter so much as Dido. For your Lordship may observe, that as much intent as he was upon his Voyage, yet he still delay'd it, 'till the Messenger was oblig'd to tell him plainly, that if he weigh'd not Anchor in the Night, the Queen wou'd be with him in the Morning. Notum (que) furens quid femina possit; she was Injur'd, she was Revengeful, she was Powerful. The Poet had likewise before hinted, that her People were naturally perfidious: For he gives their Character in their Queen, and makes a Proverb of Punica fides, many Ages before it was invented.
Thus I hope, my Lord, that I have made good my Promise, and justify'd the Poet, whatever becomes of the false Knight. And sure a Poet is as much priviledg'd to lye, as an Ambassador, for the Honour and Interest of his Country; at least as Sir Henry Wootton has defin'd.
This naturally leads me to the defence of the Famous Anachronism, in making Aeneas and Dido Contemporaries. For 'tis certain that the Heroe liv'd almost two hundred years before the Building of Carthage. One who imitates Bocaline, says that Virgil was accus'd before Apollo for this Error. The God soon found that he was not able to defend his Favourite by Reason, for the Case was clear: he therefore gave this middle Sentence; That any thing might be allow'd to his Son Virgil on the account of his other Merits; That being a Monarch he had a dispensing Power, and pardon'd him. But that this special Act of Grace might never be drawn into Example, or pleaded by his puny Successors, in justification of their ignorance; he decreed for the future, No Poet shou'd presume to make a Lady die for Love two hundred years before her Birth. To Moralize this Story, Virgil is the Apollo, who has this Dispensing Power. His great Judgment made the Laws of Poetry, but he never made himself a Slave to them: [Page] Chronology at best is but a Cobweb-Law, and he broke through it with his weight. They who will imitate him wisely, must chuse as he did, an obscure and a remote Aera, where they may invent at pleasure, and not be easily contradicted. Neither he, nor the Romans had ever read the Bible, by which only his false computation of times can be made out against him: this Segrais says in his defence, and proves it from his Learned Friend Bochartus, whose Letter on this Subject, he has Printed at the end of the Fourth Aeneid, to which I referr your Lordship, and the Reader. Yet the Credit of Virgil was so great, that he made this Fable of his own Invention pass for an Authentick History, or at least as credible as any thing in Homer. Ovid takes it up after him, even in the same Age, and makes an ancient Heroine of Virgil's new-created Dido; Dictates a Letter for her just before her death, to the ingrateful Fugitive; and very unluckily for himself, is for measuring a Sword with a Man so much superiour in force to him on the same subject. I think I may be Judge of this, because I have Translated both. The Famous Author of the Art of Love has nothing of his own, he borrows all from a greater Master in his own profession; and which is worse, improves nothing which he finds. Nature fails him, and being forc'd to his old shift, he has recourse to Witticism. This passes indeed with his Soft Admirers, and gives him the preference to Virgil in their esteem. But let them like for themselves, and not prescribe to others, for our Author needs not their Admiration.
The Motives that induc'd Virgil to Coyn this Fable, I have shew'd already; and have also begun to shew that he might make this Anacronism, by superseding the mechanick Rules of Poetry, for the same Reason, that a Monarch may dispense with, or suspend his own Laws, when he finds it necessary so to do; especially if those Laws are not altogether fundamental. Nothing is to be call'd a fault in Poetry, says Aristotle, but what is against the Art; therefore a Man may be an admirable Poet, without being an exact Chronologer. Shall we dare, continues Segrais, to condemn Virgil, for having made a Fiction against the order of time, when we commend Ovid and other Poets who have made many of their Fictions against the Order of Nature? For what are else the splendid Miracles of the Metamorphoses? Yet these are Beautiful as they are related; and have also deep Learning and instructive Mythologies couch'd under them: But to give, as Virgil does in this Episode, the Original Cause of the long Wars betwixt Rome and Carthage, to draw Truth out of Fiction, after so probable a manner, with so much Beauty, and so much for the Honour of his Country, was proper only to the Divine Wit of Maro; and Tasso in one of his Discourses, admires him for this particularly. 'Tis not lawful indeed, to contradict a Point of History, which is known to all the World; as for Example, to make Hannibal and Scipio Contemporaries with Alexander; but in the dark Recesses of Antiquity, a great Poet may and ought to feign such things as he finds not there, if they can be brought to embelish that Subject which he treats. On the other side, the pains and diligence of ill Poets is but thrown away, when they want the Genius to invent and feign agreeably. But if the Fictions be delightful, which they always are, if they be natural, if they be of a piece; if the beginning, the middle, and the end be in their due places, and artfully united to each other, such Works can never fail of their deserv'd Success. And such is Virgil's Episode of [Page] Dido and Aeneas; where the sourest Critick must acknowledge' that if he had depriv'd his Aeneis of so great an Ornament, because he found no traces of it in Antiquity, he had avoided their unjust Censure, but had wanted one of the greatest Beauties of his Poem. I shall say more of this, in the next Article of their Charge against him, which is want of Invention. In the mean time I may affirm in honour of this Episode, that it is not only now esteem'd the most pleasing entertainment of the Aeneis, but was so accounted in his own Age; and before it was mellow'd into that reputation, which time has given it; for which I need produce no other testimony, than that of Ovid, his Contemporary.
Where by the way, you may observe, my Lord, that Ovid in those words, Non legitimo faedere junctus Amor, will by no means allow it to be a lawful Marriage betwixt Dido and Aeneas. He was in Banishment when he wrote those Verses, which I cite from his Letter to Augustus. You, Sir, says he, have sent me into Exile for writing my Art of Love, and my wanton Elegies; yet your own Poet was happy in your good graces, though he brought Dido and Aeneas into a Cave, and left them there not over-honestly together. May I be so bold to ask your Majesty, is it a greater fault to teach the Art of unlawful Love, than to shew it in the Action? But was Ovid the Court-Poet so bad a Courtier, as to find no other Plea to excuse himself, than by a plain accusation of his Master? Virgil confess'd it was a Lawful Marriage betwixt the Lovers; that Juno the Goddess of Matrimony had ratify'd it by her presence, for it was her business to bring Matters to that issue. That the Ceremonies were short we may believe, for Dido was not only amorous, but a Widow. Mercury himself, though employ'd on a quite contrary Errand, yet owns it a Marriage by an innuendo: Palchram (que) Ʋxorius Ʋrbem Extruis—He calls Aeneas not only a Husband, but upbraids him with being a fond Husband, as the word Ʋxorius implies. Now mark a little, if your Lordship pleases, why Virgil is so much concern'd to make this Marriage (for he seems to be the Father of the Bride himself, and to give her to the Bridegroom) it was to make way for the Divorce which he intended afterwards; for he was a finer Flatterer than Ovid: and I more than conjecture that he had in his eye the Divorce which not long before had pass'd betwixt the Emperour and Scribonia. He drew this dimple in the Cheek of Aeneas, to prove Augustus of the same Family, by so remarkable a Feature in the same place. Thus, as we say in our home-spun English Proverb, He kill'd two Birds with one stone; pleas'd the Emperour by giving him the resemblance of his Ancestor; and gave him such a resemblance as was not scandalous in that Age. For to leave one Wife and take another, was but a matter of Gallantry at that time of day among the Romans. Neque haec in faedera veni, is the very Excuse which Aeneas makes, when he leaves his Lady. I made no such Bargain with you at our Marriage, to live always drudging on at Carthage; my business was Italy, and I never made a secret of it. If I took my pleasure, had not you your share of it? I leave you free at my departure, to comfort your self with the next Stranger who happens to be Shipwreck'd on your Coast. Be as kind an Hostess as [Page] you have been to me, and you can never fail of another Husband. In the mean time, I call the Gods to witness, that I leave your Shore unwillingly; for though Juno made the Marriage, yet Jupiter Commands me to forsake you. This is the effect of what he says, when it is dishonour'd out of Latin Verse, into English Prose. If the Poet argued not aright, we must pardon him for a poor blind Heathen, who knew no better Morals.
I have detain'd your Lordship longer than I intended on this Objection: Which wou'd indeed weigh something in a Spiritual Court; but I am not to defend our Poet there. The next I think is but a Cavil, though the Cry is great against him, and has continu'd from the time of Macrobius to this present Age. I hinted it before. They lay no less than want of Invention to his Charge. A capital Crime I must acknowledge. For a Poet is a Maker, as the word signifies: And who cannot make, that is, invent, has his Name for nothing. That which makes this Accusation look so strange at the first sight, is, That he has borrow'd so many things from Homer, Appollonius Rhodius, and others who preceded him. But in the first place, if Invention is to be taken in so strict a sense, that the Matter of a Poem must be wholly new, and that in all its Parts; then Scaliger has made out, says Segrais, that the History of Troy was no more the Invention of Homer, than of Virgil. There was not an Old Woman, or almost a Child, but had it in their Mouths, before the Greek Poet or his Friends digested it into this admirable order in which we read it. At this rate, as Solomon has told us, there is nothing new beneath the Sun: Who then can pass for an Inventor, if Homer, as well as Virgil must be depriv'd of that Glory? Is Versailles the less a New Building, because the Architect of that Palace has imitated others which were built before it? Walls, Doors and Windows, Apartments, Offices, Rooms of convenience and Magnificence, are in all great Houses. So Descriptions Figures, Fables, and the rest, must be in all Heroick Poems. They are the Common Materials of Poetry, furnish'd from the Magazine of Nature: Every Poet has as much right to them, as every Man has to Air or Water. Quid prohibetis Aquas? Ʋsus communis aquarum est. But the Argument of the Work, that is to say, its principal Action, the Oeconomy and Disposition of it; these are the things which distinguish Copies from Originals. The Poet, who borrows nothing from others, is yet to be Born. He and the Jews Messias will come together. There are parts of the Aeneis, which resemble some parts both of the Ilias and of the Odysses; as for Example, Aeneas descended into Hell, and Ʋlysses had been there before him: Aeneas lov'd Dido, and Ʋlysses lov'd Calypso: In few words, Virgil has imitated Homer's Odysses in his first six Books, and in his six last the Ilias. But from hence can we infer, that the two Poets write the same History? Is there no invention in some other parts of Virgil's Aeneis? The disposition of so many various matters, is not that his own? From what Book of Homer had Virgil his Episode of Nysus and Euryalus, of Mezentius and Lausus? From whence did he borrow his Design of bringing Aeneas into Italy, of Establishing the Roman Empire on the Foundations of a Trojan Colony; to say nothing of the honour he did his Patron, not only in his descent from Venus, but in making him so like him in his best Features, that the Goddess might have mistaken Augustus for her Son. He had indeed the Story from common Fame, as Homer had his from the Egyptian Priestess. Aeneadum Genetrix was no more unknown to Lucretius than to him. But Lucretius taught him [Page] not to form his Heroe; to give him Piety or Valour for his Manners; and both in so eminent a degree, that having done what was possible for Man, to save his King and Country; his Mother was forc'd to appear to him and restrain his Fury, which hurry'd him to death in their Revenge. But the Poet made his Piety more successful; he brought off his Father and his Son; and his Gods witness'd to his Devotion, by putting themselves under his Protection; to be re-plac'd by him in their promis'd Italy. Neither the Invention, nor the Conduct of this great Action, were owing to Homer or any other Poet. 'Tis one thing to Copy, and another thing to imitate from Nature. The Copyer is that servile Imitator, to whom Horace gives no better a Name than that of Animal: He will not so much as allow him to be a Man. Raphael imitated Nature: They who Copy one of Raphael's Pieces, imitate but him, for his Work is their Original. They Translate him as I do Virgil; and fall as short of him as I of Virgil. There is a kind of Invention in the imitation of Raphael; for though the thing was in Nature, yet the Idea of it was his own. Ʋlysses Travell'd, so did Aeneas; but neither of them were the first Travellers; for Cain went into the Land of Nod, before they were born: And neither of the Poets ever heard of such a Man. If Ʋlysses had been kill'd at Troy, yet Aeneas must have gone to Sea, or he could never have arriv'd in Italy. But the designs of the two Poets were as different as the Courses of their Heroes; one went Home, and the other sought a Home. To return to my first similitude: Suppose Apelles and Raphael had each of them Painted a burning Troy; might not the Modern Painter have succeeded as well as the Ancient, tho' neither of them had seen the Town on Fire? For the draughts of both were taken from the Idea's which they had of Nature. Cities had been burnt before either of them were in Being. But to Close the Simile as I begun it; they wou'd not have design'd after the same manner. Apelles wou'd have distinguish'd Pyrrhus from the rest of all the Grecians, and shew'd him forcing his entrance into Priam's Palace; there he had set him in the fairest Light, and given him the chief place of all his Figures, because he was a Grecian, and he wou'd do Honour to his Country. Raphael, who was an Italian, and descended from the Trojans, wou'd have made Aeneas the Heroe of his piece: And perhaps not with his Father on his Back; his Son in one hand, his Bundle of Gods in the other, and his Wife following; (for an Act of Piety, is not half so graceful in a Picture as an Act of Courage:) He would rather have drawn him killing Androgeos, or some other, Hand to Hand; and the blaze of the Fires shou'd have darted full upon his Face, to make him conspicuous amongst his Trojans. This I think is a just Comparison betwixt the two Poets in the Conduct of their several designs. Virgil cannot be said to copy Homer: The Grecian had only the advantage of writing first. If it be urg'd that I have granted a resemblance in some parts; yet therein Virgil has excell'd him: For what are the Tears of Calypso for being left, to the Fury and Death of Dido? Where is there the whole process of her Passion, and all its violent Effects to be found, in the languishing Episode of the Odysses? If this be to Copy, let the Criticks shew us the same Disposition, Features, or Colouring in their Original. The like may be said of the Descent to Hell; which was not of Homer's Invention neither: He had it from the Story of Orpheus and Eurydice. But to what end did Ʋlysses make that Journey? Aeneas undertook it by the express Commandment of his Father's Ghost: There he was to [Page] shew him all the succeeding Heroes of his Race; and next to Romulus, (mark, if you please, the Address of Virgil) his own Patron Augustus Caesar. Anchises was likewise to instruct him, how to manage the Italian War; and how to conclude it with his Honour. That is, in other words, to lay the Foundations of that Empire which Augustus was to Govern. This is the Noble Invention of our Author: But it has been Copyed by so many Sign-post Daubers; that now 'tis grown fulsom, rather by their want of Skill, than by the Commonness.
In the last place I may safely grant, that by reading Homer, Virgil was taught to imitate his Invention: That is, to imitate like him; which is no more, than if a Painter studied Raphael, that he might learn to design after his manner. And thus I might imitate Virgil, if I were capable of writing an Heroick Poem, and yet the Invention be my own: But I shou'd endeavour to avoid a servile Copying. I would not give the same Story under other Names: With the same Characters, in the same Order, and with the same Sequel: For every common Reader to find me out at the first sight for a Plagiary: And cry, this I read before in Virgil, in a better Language, and in better Verse: This is like merry Andrew on the low Rope, copying lubberly the same Tricks, which his Master is dextrously performing on the high.
I will trouble your Lordship but with one Objection more; which I know not whether I found in Le Fevre or Valois, but I am sure I have read it in another French Critick, whom I will not name, because I think it is not much for his Reputation. Virgil, in the heat of Action, suppose for Example, in describing the fury of his Heroe in a Battel, when he is endeavouring to raise our concernments to the highest pitch, turns short on the sudden into some similitude, which diverts, say they, your attention from the main Subject, and mispends it on some trivial Image. He pours cold Water into the Caldron when his business is to make it boil.
This Accusation is general against all who wou'd be thought Heroick Poets; but I think it touches Virgil less than any. He is too great a Master of his Art, to make a Blott which may so easily be hit. Similitudes, as I have said, are not for Tragedy, which is all violent, and where the Passions are in a perpetual ferment; for there they deaden where they should animate; they are not of the nature of Dialogue, unless in Comedy: A Metaphor is almost all the Stage can suffer, which is a kind of Similitude comprehended in a word. But this Figure has a contrary effect in Heroick Poetry: There 'tis employ'd to raise the Admiration, which is its proper business. And Admiration is not of so violent a nature as Fear or Hope, Compassion or Horrour, or any Concernment we can have for such or such a Person on the Stage. Not but I confess, that Similitudes and Descriptions, when drawn into an unreasonable length, must needs nauseate the Reader. Once I remember, and but once; Virgil makes a Similitude of fourteen Lines; and his description of Fame is about the same number. He is blam'd for both; and I doubt not but he would have contracted them, had he liv'd to have review'd his Work: But Faults are no Precedents. This I have observ'd of his Similitudes in general, that they are not plac'd, as our unobserving Criticks tell us, in the heat of any Action: But commonly in its declining: When he has warm'd us in his Description, as much as possibly he can; then, lest that warmth should languish, he renews it by some apt Similitude, which illustrates his Subject, and yet palls not his Audience. I need give your Lordship [Page] but one Example of this kind, and leave the rest to your Observation, when next you review the whole Aeneis in the Original unblemish'd by my rude Translation. 'Tis in the first Book, where the Poet describes Neptune composing the Ocean, on which Eolus had rais'd a Tempest, without his permission. He had already chidden the Rebellious Winds for obeying the Commands of their Usurping Master: He had warn'd them from the Seas, He had beaten down the Billows with his Mace; dispell'd the Clouds, restor'd the Sun-shine, while Triton and Cymothoe were heaving the Ships from off the Quick-Sands; before the Poet wou'd offer at a Similitude for illustration.
This is the first Similitude which Virgil makes in this Poem: And one of the longest in the whole; for which Reason I the rather cite it. While the Storm was in its fury, any Allusion had been improper: For the Poet cou'd have compar'd it to nothing more impetuous than it self; consequently he could have made no Illustration. If he cou'd have illustrated, it had been an ambitious Ornament out of season, and would have diverted our Concernment: Nunc, non erat hisce locus; and therefore he deferr'd it to its proper place.
These are the Criticisms of most moment which have been made against the Aeneis, by the Ancients or Moderns. As for the particular Exceptions against this or that passage, Macrobius and Pontanus have answer'd them already. If I desir'd to appear more Learned than I am, it had been as easie for me to have taken their Objections and Solutions, as it is for a Country Parson to take the Expositions of the Fathers out of Junius and Tremellius: Or not to have nam'd the Authors from whence I had them: For so Ruaeus, otherwise a most judicious Commentator on Virgil's Works, has us'd Pontanus, his greatest Benefactor, of whom, he is very silent, and I do not remember that he once cites him.
What follows next, is no Objection; for that implies a Fault: And it had been none in Virgil, if he had extended the time of his Action beyond a Year. At least Aristotle has set no precise limits to it. Homer's, we know, was within two Months: Tasso I am sure exceeds not a Summer: And if I examin'd him, perhaps he might be reduc'd into a much less compass. Bossu leaves it doubtful whether Virgil's Action were within the Year, or took up some Months beyond it. Indeed the whole Dispute is of no more concernment to the common Reader, than it is to a Plough-man, whether February this Year had 28 or 29 Days in it. But for the satisfaction of the more Curious, of which number, I am sure your Lordship is one; I will Translate what I think convenient out of Segrais, whom perhaps you have not read: For he has made it highly probable, that the Action of the Aeneis began in the Spring, and was not extended beyond the Autumn. [Page] And we have known Campaigns that have begun sooner, and have ended later.
Ronsard and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of Opinion that the Action of this Poem takes up almost a Year and half; ground their Calculation thus. Anchises dyed in Sicily at the end of Winter, or beginning of the Spring. Aeneas, immediately after the Interment of his Father, puts to Sea for Italy: He is surpriz'd by the Tempest describ'd in the beginning of the first Book; and there it is that the Scene of the Poem opens; and where the Action must Commence. He is driven by this Storm on the Coasts of Affrick: He stays at Carthage all that Summer, and almost all the Winter following: Sets Sail again for Italy just before the beginning of the Spring; meets with contrary Winds, and makes Sicily the second time: This part of the Action compleats the Year. Then he celebrates the Aniversary of his Father's Funerals, and shortly after arrives at Cumes, and from thence his time is taken up in his first Treaty with Latinus; the Overture of the War; the Siege of his Camp by Turnus; his going for Succours to relieve it: His return: The raising of the Siege by the first Battel: The twelve days Truce: The second Battel: The Assault of Laurentum, and the single Fight with Turnus; all which, they say, cannot take up less than four or five Months more; by which Account we cannot suppose the entire Action to be contain'd in a much less compass than a Year and half.
Segrais reckons another way; and his computation is not condemn'd by the learned Ruaeus, who compil'd and Publish'd the Commentaries on our Poet, which we call the Dauphin's Virgil.
He allows the time of Year when Anchises dyed; to be in the latter end of Winter, or the beginning of the Spring; he acknowledges that when Aeneas is first seen at Sea afterwards, and is driven by the Tempest on the Coast of Affrick, is the time when the Action is naturally to begin: He confesses farther, that Aeneas left Carthage in the latter end of Winter; for Dido tells him in express terms, as an Argument for his longer stay, ‘Quinetiam Hyberno moliris sydere Classem.’
But whereas Ronsard's Followers suppose that when Aeneas had buried his Father, he set Sail immediately for Italy, (tho' the Tempest drove him on the Coast of Carthage.) Segrais will by no means allow that Supposition; but thinks it much more probable that he remain'd in Sicily 'till the midst of July or the beginning of August; at which time he places the first appearance of his Heroe on the Sea; and there opens the Action of the Poem. From which beginning, to the Death of Turnus, which concludes the Action, there need not be suppos'd above ten Months of intermediate time: For arriving at Carthage in the latter end of Summer, staying there the Winter following; departing thence in the very beginning of the Spring; making a short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, and making the War, may be reasonably judg'd the business but of three Months. To this the Ronsardians reply, that having been for Seven Years before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in Sicily, than to interr his Father; after that Office was perform'd, what remain'd for him, but, without delay, to pursue his first Adventure? To which Segrais answers, that the Obsequies of his Father, according to the Rites of the Greeks and [Page] Romans, would detain him for many days: That a longer time must be taken up in the refitting of his Ships, after so tedious a Voyage; and in refreshing his Weather-beaten Souldiers on a friendly Coast. These indeed are but Suppositions on both sides, yet those of Segrais seem better grounded. For the Feast of Dido, when she entertain'd Aeneas first, has the appearance of a Summer's Night, which seems already almost ended, when he begins his Story: Therefore the Love was made in Autumn; the Hunting follow'd properly when the Heats of that scorching Country were declining: The Winter was pass'd in jollity, as the Season and their Love requir'd; and he left her in the latter end of Winter, as is already prov'd. This Opinion is fortify'd by the Arrival of Aeneas at the Mouth of Tyber; which marks the Season of the Spring, that Season being perfectly describ'd by the singing of the Birds, saluting the dawn; and by the Beauty of the place, which the Poet seems to have painted expresly in the Seventh Aeneid.
The remainder of the Action requir'd but three Months more; for when Aeneas went for Succour to the Tuscans, he found their Army in a readiness to march; and wanting only a Commander: So that according to this Calculation, the Aeneis takes not up above a Year compleat, and may be comprehended in less compass.
This, amongst other Circumstances, treated more at large by Segrais, agrees with the rising of Orion, which caus'd the Tempest, describ'd in the beginning of the first Book. By some passages in the Pastorals, but more particularly in the Georgicks, our Poet is found to be an exact Astronomer, according to the Knowledge of that Age. Now Ilioneus (whom Virgil twice employs in Embassies, as the best Speaker of the Trojans) attributes that Tempest to Orion in his Speech to Dido.
He must mean either the Heliacal or Achronical rising of that Sign. The Heliacal rising of a Constellation, is when it comes from under the Rays of the Sun, and begins to appear before Day-light. The Achronical rising, on the contrary, is when it appears at the close of Day, and in opposition of the Sun's diurnal Course.
The Heliacal rising of Orion, is at present computed to be about the sixth of July; and about that time it is, that he either causes, or presages Tempests on the Seas.
Segrais has observ'd farther, that when Anna Counsels Dido to stay Aeneas during the Winter; she speaks also of Orion; ‘Dum pelago desaevit hyems, & aquosus Orion.’
If therefore Ilioneus, according to our Supposition, understand the Heliacal rising of Orion: Anna must mean the Achronical, which the different Epithetes given to that Constellation, seem to manifest. Ilioneus calls him nimbosus, Anna aquosus. He is tempestuous in the Summer [Page] when he rises Heliacally, and Rainy in the Winter when he rises Achronically. Your Lordship will pardon me for the frequent repetition of these cant words; which I cou'd not avoid in this abbreviation of Segrais; who I think deserves no little commendation in this new Criticism. I have yet a word or two to say of Virgil's Machines, from my own observation of them. He has imitated those of Homer, but not Copied them. It was establish'd long before this time, in the Roman Religion as well as in the Greek; that there were Gods; and both Nations, for the most part, worshipp'd the same Deities; as did also the Trojans: From whom the Romans, I suppose, wou'd rather be thought to derive the Rites of their Religion, than from the Grecians; because they thought themselves descended from them. Each of those Gods had his proper Office, and the chief of them their particular Attendants. Thus Jupiter had in propriety, Ganimede and Mercury; and Juno had Iris. It was not then for Virgil to create new Ministers; he must take what he found in his Religion. It cannot therefore be said that he borrow'd them from Homer, any more than Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds occasion for them, as the Grecian Poet did: But he invents the occasions for which he uses them. Venus, after the destruction of Troy, had gain'd Neptune entirely to her Party; therefore we find him busie in the beginning of the Aeneis, to calm the Tempest rais'd by Aeolus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan Fleet to Cumes in safety, with the loss only of their Pilot; for whom he Bargains. I name those two Examples amongst a hundred which I omit; to prove that Virgil, generally speaking, employ'd his Machines in performing those things, which might possibly have been done without them. What more frequent then a Storm at Sea, upon the rising of Orion? What wonder, if amongst so many Ships there shou'd one be overset, which was commanded by Orontes; though half the Winds had not been there, which Aeolus employ'd? Might not Palinurus, without a Miracle, fall asleep, and drop into the Sea, having been over-wearied with watching, and secure of a quiet passage, by his observation of the Skies? At least Aeneas, who knew nothing of the Machine of Somnus, takes it plainly in this Sense.
But Machines sometimes are specious things to amuse the Reader, and give a colour of probability to things otherwise incredible. And besides, it sooth'd the vanity of the Romans, to find the Gods so visibly concern'd in all the Actions of their Predecessors. We who are better taught by our Religion, yet own every wonderful Accident which befalls us for the best, to be brought to pass by some special Providence of Almighty God; and by the care of guardian Angels: And from hence I might infer, that no Heroick Poem can be writ on the Epicuraean Principles. Which I cou'd easily demonstrate, if there were need to prove it, or I had leisure.
When Venus opens the Eyes of her Son Aeneas, to behold the Gods who Combated against Troy, in that fatal Night when it was surpriz'd; we share the pleasure of that glorious Vision, (which Tasso has not ill Copied in the sacking of Jerusalem.) But the Greeks had done their business; though neither Neptune, Juno, or Pallas, had given them their Divine assistance. The most crude Machine which Virgil uses, is in [Page] the Episode of Camilla, where Opis by the command of her Mistress, kills Aruns. The next is in the Twelfth Aeneid, where Venus cures her Son Aeneas. But in the last of these, the Poet was driven to a necessity; for Turnus was to be slain that very day: And Aeneas, wounded as he was, cou'd not have Engag'd him in single Combat, unless his Hurt had been miraculously heal'd. And the Poet had consider'd that the Dittany which she brought from Crete, cou'd not have wrought so speedy an effect, without the Juice of Ambrosia, which she mingled with it. After all, that his Machine might not seem too violent, we see the Heroe limping after Turnus. The Wound was skin'd; but the strength of his Thigh was not restor'd. But what Reason had our Author to wound Aeneas at so critical a time? And how came the Cuisses to be worse temper'd than the rest of his Armour, which was all wrought by Vulcan and his Journey-men? These difficulties are not easily to be solv'd, without confessing that Virgil had not life enough to correct his Work: Tho' he had review'd it, and found those Errours which he resolv'd to mend: But being prevented by Death, and not willing to leave an imperfect work behind him, he ordain'd, by his last Testament, that his Aeneis should be burn'd. As for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a Goddess, the Machine was not altogether so outragious, as the wounding Mars and Venus by the Sword of Diomede. Two Divinities, one wou'd have thought, might have pleaded their Prerogative of Impassibility, or, at least not to have been wounded by any mortal Hand. Beside that the [...] which they shed, was so very like our common Blood, that it was not to be distinguish'd from it, but only by the Name and Colour. As for what Horate says in his Art of Poetry; that no Machines are to be us'd, unless on some extraordinary occasion, ‘Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus.’ That Rule is to be apply'd to the Theatre, of which he is then speaking, and means no more than this, that when the Knot of the Play is to be unty'd, and no other way is left, for making the discovery; then and not otherwise, let a God descend upon a Rope, and clear the Business to the Audience: But this has no relation to the Machines which are us'd in an Epick Poem.
In the last place, for the Dira, or Flying-Pest, which flapping on the Shield of Turnus, and fluttering about his Head, dishearten'd him in the Duel, and presag'd to him his approaching Death, I might have plac'd it more properly amongst the Objections. For the Criticks, who lay want of Courage to the Charge of Virgil's Heroe; quote this Passage as a main proof of their Assertion. They say our Author had not only secur'd him before the Duel, but also in the beginning of it, had given him the advantage in impenetrable Arms, and in his Sword: (for that of Turnus was not his own, which was forg'd by Vulcan for his Father) but a Weapon which he had snatch'd in haste, and by mistake, belonging to his Charioteer Metiscus. That after all this, Jupiter, who was partial to the Trojan, and distrustful of the Event, though he had hung the Ballance, and given it a jog of his hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the Fates a collatteral Security, by sending the Screech-Owl to discourage him. For which they quote these words of Virgil.
In answer to which, I say, that this Machine is one of those which the Poet uses only for Ornament, and not out of Necessity. Nothing can be more Beautiful, or more Poetical than his description of the three Dirae, or the setting of the Balance, which our Milton has borrow'd from him, but employ'd to a different end: For first he makes God Almighty set the Scales for St. Michael and Sathan, when he knew no Combat was to follow; then he makes the good Angel's Scale descend, and the Devils mount; quite contrary to Virgil, if I have Translated the three Verses, according to my Author's Sense.
For I have taken these words Quem damnet labor, in the Sense which Virgil gives them in another place; Damnabis tu quoque votis; to signifie a prosperous Event. Yet I dare not condemn so great a Genius as Milton: For I am much mistaken if he alludes not to the Text in Daniel, where Belshazzar was put into the Balance, and found too light: This is digression, and I return to my Subject. I said above, that these two Machines of the Balance, and the Dira, were only Ornamental, and that the success of the Duel had been the same without them. For when Aeneas and Turnus stood fronting each other before the Altar, Turnus look'd dejected, and his Colour faded in his Face, as if he desponded of the Victory before the Fight; and not only he, but all his Party, when the strength of the two Champions was judg'd by the proportion of their Limbs, concluded it was impar pugna, and that their Chief was over-match'd: Whereupon Juturna (who was of the same Opinion) took his opportunity to break the Treaty and renew the War. Juno her self had plainly told the Nymph beforehand, that her Brother was to Fight ‘Imparibus fatis; nec Diis, nec viribus aequis;’ So that there was no need of an Apparition to fright Turnus. He had the presage within himself of his impending Destiny. The Dirae only serv'd to confirm him in his first Opinion, that it was his Destiny to die in the ensuing Combat. And in this sense are those words of Virgil to be taken.
I doubt not but the Adverb (solùm) is to be understood; 'tis not your Valour only that gives me this concernment; but I find also, by this portent, that Jupiter is my Enemy. For Turnus fled before, when his first Sword was broken, 'till his Sister supply'd him with a better; which indeed he cou'd not use; because Aeneas kept him at a distance with his Spear. I wonder Ruaeus saw not this, where he charges his Author so unjustly, for giving Turnus a second Sword, to [Page] no purpose. How cou'd he fasten a blow, or make a thrust, when he was not suffer'd to approach? Besides, the chief Errand of the Dira, was to warn Juturna from the Field, for she cou'd have brought the Chariot again, when she saw her Brother worsted in the Duel. I might farther add, that Aeneas was so eager of the Fight, that he left the City, now almost in his Possession, to decide his quarrel with Turnus by the Sword: Whereas Turnus had manifestly declin'd the Combate, and suffer'd his Sister to convey him as far from the reach of his Enemy as she cou'd. I say not only suffer'd her, but consented to it; for 'tis plain, he knew her by these words;
I have dwelt so long on this Subject, that I must contract what I have to say, in reference to my Translation: Unless I wou'd swell my Preface into a Volume, and make it formidable to your Lordship, when you see so many Pages yet behind. And indeed what I have already written either in justification or praise of Virgil, is against my self; for presuming to Copy, in my course English, the Thoughts and Beautiful Expressions of this inimitable Poet: Who flourish'd in an Age when his Language was brought to its last perfection, for which it was particularly owing to him and Horace. I will give your Lordship my Opinion, that those two Friends had consulted each others Judgment, wherein they should endeavour to excel; and they seem to have pitch'd on Propriety of Thought, Elegance of Words, and Harmony of Numbers. According to this Model, Horace writ his Odes and Epods: For his Satires and Epistles, being intended wholly for instruction, requir'd another Style: ‘Ornari res ipsa negat, contenta doceri:’
And therefore as he himself professes, are Sermoni propiora, nearer Prose than Verse. But Virgil, who never attempted the Lyrick Verse, is every where Elegant, sweet and flowing in his Hexameters. His words are not only chosen, but the places in which he ranks them for the sound; he who removes them from the Station wherein their Master sets them, spoils the Harmony. What he says of the Sybill's Prophecies, may be as properly apply'd to every word of his: They must be read, in order as they lie; the least breath discomposes them, and somewhat of their Divinity is lost. I cannot boast that I have been thus exact in my Verses, but I have endeavour'd to follow the Example of my Master: And am the first Englishman, perhaps, who made it his design to copy him in his Numbers, his choice of Words, and his placing them for the sweetness of the sound. On this last Consideration, I have shun'd the Caesura as much as possibly I cou'd. For wherever that is us'd, it gives a roughness to the Verse, of which we can have little need, in a Language which is over-stock'd with Consonants. Such is not the Latine, where the Vowels and Consonants are mix'd in proportion to each other: yet Virgil judg'd the Vowels to have somewhat of an over-balance, and therefore tempers their sweetness with Caesuras. Such difference there is in Tongues, that the same Figure which roughens one, gives Majesty to another: and that [Page] was it which Virgil studied in his Verses. Ovid uses it but rarely; and hence it is that his Versification cannot so properly be call'd sweet, as luscious. The Italians are forc'd upon it, once or twice in every line, because they have a redundancy of Vowels in their Language. Their Metal is so soft, that it will not Coyn without Alloy to harden it. On the other side, for the Reason already nam'd, 'tis all we can do to give sufficient sweetness to our Language: We must not only chuse our words for Elegance, but for sound. To perform which, a Mastery in the Language is requir'd; the Poet must have a Magazine of Words, and have the Art to mannage his few Vowels to the best advantage, that they may go the farther. He must also know the nature of the Vowels, which are more sonorous, and which more soft and sweet; and so dispose them as his present occasions require: All which, and a thousand secrets of Versification beside, he may learn from Virgil, if he will take him for his Guide. If he be above Virgil, and is resolv'd to follow his own Verve (as the French call it,) the Proverb will fall heavily upon him; Who teaches himself, has a Fool for his Master.
Virgil employ'd Eleven Years upon his Aeneis, yet he left it as he thought himself imperfect. Which when I seriously consider, I wish, that instead of three years which I have spent in the Translation of his Works, I had four years more allow'd me to correct my Errours, that I might make my Version somewhat more tolerable than it is. For a Poet cannot have too great a reverence for his Readers, if he expects his Labours shou'd survive him. Yet I will neither plead my Age nor Sickness in excuse of the faults which I have made: That I wanted time is all I have to say. For some of my Subscribers grew so clamorous, that I cou'd no longer deferr the Publication. I hope from the Candour of your Lordship, and your often experienc'd goodness to me, that if the faults are not too many, you will make allowances with Horace.
You may please also to observe, that there is not, to the best of my remembrance, one Vowel gaping on another for want of a Caesura, in this whole Poem. But where a Vowel ends a word, the next begins either with a Consonant, or what is its equivalent; for our W and H aspirate, and our Dipthongues are plainly such: The greatest latitude I take, is in the Letter Y, when it concludes a word, and the first Syllable of the next begins with a Vowel. Neither need I have call'd this a latitude, which is only an explanation of this general Rule. That no Vowel can be cut off before another, when we cannot sink the Pronunciation of it: As He, She, Me, I, &c. Virgil thinks it sometimes a Beauty, to imitate the License of the Greeks, and leave two Vowels opening on each other, as in that Verse of the Third Pastoral, ‘Et succus pecori & lac subducitur Agnis.’
But nobis non licet, esse tam disertis. At least if we study to refine our Numbers. I have long had by me the Materials of an English Prosodia, containing all the Mechanical Rules of Versification, wherein [Page] I have treated with some exactness of the Feet, the Quantities, and the Pauses. The French and Italians know nothing of the two first; at least their best Poets have not practis'd them. As for the Pauses, Malherb first brought them into France, within this last Century: And we see how they adorn their Alexandrins. But as Virgil propounds a Riddle which he leaves unsolv'd:
So I will give your Lordship another, and leave the Exposition of it to your acute Judgment. I am sure there are few who make Verses, have observ'd the sweetness of these two Lines in Coopers Hill.
And there are yet fewer who can find the Reason of that sweetness. I have given it to some of my Friends in Conversation, and they have allow'd the Criticism to be just. But since the evil of false quantities is difficult to be cur'd in any Modern Language; since the French and the Italians as well as we, are yet ignorant what feet are to be us'd in Heroick Poetry; since I have not strictly observ'd those Rules my self, which I can teach others; since I pretend to no Dictatorship among my Fellow-Poets; since if I shou'd instruct some of them to make well-running Verses, they want Genius to give them strength as well as sweetness; and above all, since your Lordship has advis'd me not to publish that little which I know, I look on your Counsel as your Command, which I shall observe inviolably, 'till you shall please to revoke it, and leave me at liberty to make my thoughts publick. In the mean time, that I may arrogate nothing to my self, I must acknowledge that Virgil in Latine, and Spencer in English, have been my Masters. Spencer has also given me the boldness to make use sometimes of his Alexandrin Line, which we call, though improperly, the Pindarick; because Mr. Cowley has often employ'd it in his Odes. It adds a certain Majesty to the Verse, when 'tis us'd with Judgment, and stops the sense from overflowing into another Line. Formerly the French, like us, and the Italians, had but five Feet, or ten Syllables in their Heroick Verse: but since Ronsard's time, as I suppose, they found their Tongue too weak to support their Epick Poetry, without the addition of another Foot. That indeed has given it somewhat of the run, and measure of a Trimeter; but it runs with more activity than strength: Their Language is not strung with Sinews like our English. It has the nimbleness of a Greyhound, but not the bulk and body of a Mastiff. Our Men and our Verses over-bear them by their weight; and Pondere non Numero, is the British Motto. The French have set up Purity for the Standard of their Language; and a Masculine Vigour is that of ours. Like their Tongue is the Genius of their Poets, light and trifling in comparison of the English; more proper for Sonnets, Madrigals, and Elegies, than Heroick Poetry. The turn on Thoughts and Words is their chief Talent, but the Epick Poem is too stately to receive those little Ornaments. The Painters draw their Nymphs in thin and airy Habits, but the weight of Gold and of Embroideries is reserv'd for Queens [Page] and Goddesses. Virgil is never frequent in those Turns, like Ovid, but much more sparing of them in his Aeneis, than in his Pastorals and Georgicks.
That turn is Beautiful indeed; but he employs it in the Story of Orpheus and Eurydice, not in his great Poem. I have us'd that License in his Aeneis sometimes: but I own it as my fault. 'Twas given to those who understand no better. 'Tis like Ovid's ‘Semivirum (que) bovem, semibovem (que) virum.’ The Poet found it before his Criticks, but it was a darling Sin which he wou'd not be perswaded to reform. The want of Genius, of which I have accus'd the French, is laid to their Charge by one of their own great Authors, though I have forgotten his Name, and where I read it. If Rewards cou'd make good Poets, their great Master has not been wanting on his part in his bountiful Encouragements: For he is wise enough to imitate Augustus, if he had a Maro. The Triumvir and Proscriber had descended to us in a more hideous form than they now appear, if the Emperour had not taken care to make Friends of him and Horace. I confess the Banishment of Ovid was a Blot in his Escutcheon, yet he was only Banish'd, and who knows but his Crime was Capital, and then his Exile was a Favour? Ariosto, who with all his faults, must be acknowledg'd a great Poet, has put these words into the mouth of an Evangelist, but whether they will pass for Gospel now, I cannot tell.
But Heroick Poetry is not of the growth of France, as it might be of England, if it were Cultivated. Spencer wanted only to have read the Rules of Bossu: for no Man was ever Born with a greater Genius, or had more Knowledge to support it. But the performance of the French is not equal to their Skill; and hitherto we have wanted Skill to perform better. Segrais, whose Preface is so wonderfully good, yet is wholly destitute of Elevation; though his Version is much better than that of the two Brothers, or any of the rest who have attempted Virgil. Hannibal Caro is a great Name amongst the Italians, yet his Translation of the Aeneis is most scandalously mean, though he has taken the advantage of writing in Blank Verse, and freed himself from the shackles of modern Rhime: (if it be modern, for Le Clerc has told us lately, and I believe has made it out, that David's Psalms were written in as errant Rhime as they are Translated.) Now if a Muse cannot run when she is unfetter'd, 'tis a sign she has but little speed. I will not make a digression here, though I am strangely tempted to it; but will only say, that he who can write well in Rhime, may write better in Blank Verse. Rhime is certainly a constraint even to the best Poets, and those who make it with most ease; though perhaps I have as little reason to complain of that hardship as any Man, excepting [Page] Quarles, and Withers. What it adds to sweetness, it takes away from sense; and he who loses the least by it, may be call'd a gainer: it often makes us swerve from an Author's meaning. As if a Mark be set up for an Archer at a great distance, let him aim as exactly as he can, the least wind will take his Arrow, and divert it from the White. I return to our Italian Translatour of the Aeneis: He is a Foot-Poet, he Lacquies by the side of Virgil at the best, but never mounts behind him. Doctor Morelli, who is no mean Critick in our Poetry, and therefore may be presum'd to be a better in his own Language, has confirm'd me in this Opinion by his Judgment, and thinks withall, that he has often mistaken his Master's Sense. I wou'd say so, if I durst, but I am afraid I have committed the same fault more often, and more grosly: For I have forsaken Ruaeus, (whom generally I follow) in many places, and made Expositions of my own in some, quite contrary to him. Of which I will give but two Examples, because they are so near each other in the Tenth Aeneid. ‘—Sorti Pater aequus utrique.’ Pallas says it to Turnus just before they Fight. Ruaeus thinks that the word Pater is to be referr'd to Evander the Father of Pallas. But how cou'd he imagine that it was the same thing to Evander, if his Son were slain, or if he overcame. The Poet certainly intended Jupiter the common Father of Mankind; who, as Pallas hop'd, wou'd stand an impartial Spectatour of the Combat, and not be more favourable to Turnus, than to him. The Second is not long after it, and both before the Duel is begun. They are the words of Jupiter, who comforts Hercules for the death of Pallas, which was immediately to ensue, and which Hercules cou'd not hinder (though the young Heroe had address'd his Prayers to him for his assistance:) Because the Gods cannot controul Destiny—the Verse follows. ‘Sic ait; at (que) oculos Rutulorum rejicit arvis.’ Which the same Ruaeus thus construes. Jupiter after he had said this; immediately turns his eyes to the Rutulian Fields, and beholds the Duel. I have given this place another Exposition, that he turn'd his Eyes from the Field of Combat, that he might not behold a sight so unpleasing to him. The word Rejicit I know will admit of both senses; but Jupiter having confess'd that he could not alter Fate, and being griev'd he cou'd not, in consideration of Hercules, it seems to me that he shou'd avert his Eyes, rather than take pleasure in the Spectacle. But of this I am not so consident as the other, though I think I have follow'd Virgil's sense.
What I have said, though it has the face of arrogance, yet is intended for the honour of my Country; and therefore I will boldly own, that this English Translation has more of Virgil's Spirit in it, than either the French, or the Italian. Some of our Country-men have translated Episodes, and other parts of Virgil, with great Success. As particularly your Lordship, whose Version of Orpheus and Eurydice, is eminently good. Amongst the dead Authors, the Silenus of my Lord Roscommon cannot be too much commended. I say nothing of Sir John Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cowley; 'tis the utmost of my Ambition to be thought their Equal, or not to be much [Page] inferiour to them, and some others of the Living. But 'tis one thing to take pains on a Fragment, and Translate it perfectly; and another thing to have the weight of a whole Author on my shoulders. They who believe the burthen light, let them attempt the Fourth, Sixth or Eighth Pastoral, the First or Fourth Georgick; and amongst the Aeneids, the Fourth, the Fifth, the Seventh, the Ninth, the Tenth, the Eleventh, or the Twelfth; for in these I think I have succeeded best.
Long before I undertook this Work, I was no stranger to the Original. I had also studied Virgil's Design, his disposition of it, his Manners, his judicious management of the Figures, the sober retrenchments of his Sense, which always leaves somewhat to gratifie our imagination, on which it may enlarge at pleasure; but above all, the Elegance of his Expressions, and the harmony of his Numbers. For, as I have said in a former Dissertation, the words are in Poetry, what the Colours are in Painting. If the Design be good, and the Draught be true, the Colouring is the first Beauty that strikes the Eye. Spencer and Milton are the nearest in English to Virgil and Horace in the Latine; and have endeavour'd to form my Stile by imitating their Masters. I will farther own to you, my Lord, that my chief Ambition is to please those Readers, who have discernment enough to prefer Virgil before any other Poet in the Latine Tongue. Such Spirits as he desir'd to please, such wou'd I chuse for my Judges, and wou'd stand or fall by them alone. Segrais has distinguish'd the Readers of Poetry, according to their capacity of judging, into three Classes: (He might have said the same of Writers too if he had pleas'd.) In the lowest Form he places those whom he calls Les Petits Esprits: such things as are our Upper-Gallery Audience in a Play-House; who like nothing but the Husk and Rhind of Wit; preferr a Quibble, a Conceit, an Epigram, before solid Sense, and Elegant Expression: These are Mobb-Readers: If Virgil and Martial stood for Parliament-Men, we know already who wou'd carry it. But though they make the greatest appearance in the Field, and cry the loudest, the best on't is, they are but a sort of French Hugonots, or Dutch Boors, brought over in Herds, but not Naturaliz'd: who have not Land of two Pounds per Annum in Parnassus, and therefore are not priviledg'd to Poll. Their Authors are of the same level; fit to represent them on a Mountebank's-Stage, or to be Masters of the Ceremonies in a Bear-Garden. Yet these are they who have the most Admirers. But it often happens, to their mortification, that as their Readers improve their Stock of Sense, (as they may by reading better Books, and by Conversation with Men of Judgment,) they soon forsake them: And when the Torrent from the Mountains falls no more, the swelling Writer is reduc'd into his shallow Bed, like the Mançanares at Madrid, with scarce water to moisten his own Pebbles. There are a middle sort of Readers (as we hold there is a middle state of Souls) such as have a farther insight than the former; yet have not the capacity of judging right; (for I speak not of those who are brib'd by a Party, and know better if they were not corrupted;) but I mean a Company of warm young Men, who are not yet arriv'd so far as to discern the difference betwixt Fustian, or ostentatious Sentences, and the true sublime. These are above liking Martial, or Owen's Epigrams, but they wou'd certainly set Virgil below Statius, or Lucan. I need not say their Poets are of the same Paste with their Admirers. They affect greatness in all they write, but 'tis a bladder'd greatness, like that of the vain Man whom Seneca describes: An ill habit of Body, full of [Page] Humours, and swell'd with Dropsie. Even these too desert their Authors, as their Judgment ripens. The young Gentlemen themselves are commonly miss-led by their Pedagogue at School, their Tutor at the University, or their Governour in their Travels. And many of those three sorts are the most positive Blockheads in the World. How many of those flatulent Writers have I known, who have sunk in their Reputation, after Seven or Eight Editions of their Works? for indeed they are Poets only for young Men. They had great success at their first appearance; but not being of God, as a Wit said formerly, they cou'd not stand.
I have already nam'd two sorts of Judges, but Virgil wrote for neither of them: and by his Example, I am not ambitious of pleasing the lowest, or the middle form of Readers.
He chose to please the most Judicious: Souls of the highest Rank, and truest Understanding. These are few in number; but whoever is so happy as to gain their approbation, can nover lose it, because they never give it blindly. Then they have a certain Magnetism in their Judgment, which attracts others to their Sense. Every day they gain some new Proselyte, and in time become the Church. For this Reason, a well-weigh'd Judicious Poem, which at its first appearance gains no more upon the World than to be just receiv'd, and rather not blam'd, than much applauded, insinuates it self by insensible degrees into the liking of the Reader: The more he studies it, the more it grows upon him; every time he takes it up, he discovers some new Graces in it. And whereas Poems which are produc'd by the vigour of Imagination only, have a gloss upon them at the first, which Time wears off; the Works of Judgment, are like the Diamond, the more they are polish'd, the more lustre they receive. Such is the difference betwixt Virgil's Aeneis, and Marini's Adone. And if I may be allow'd to change the Metaphor, I wou'd say, that Virgil is like the Fame which he describes; ‘Mobilitate viget, vires (que) acquirit eundo.’
Such a sort of Reputation is my aim, though in a far inferiour degree, according to my Motto in the Title Page: Sequitur (que) Patrem, non passibus aequis; and therefore I appeal to the Highest Court of Judicature, like that of the Peers, of which your Lordship is so great an Ornament.
Without this Ambition which I own, of desiring to please the Judices Natos, I cou'd never have been able to have done any thing at this Age, when the fire of Poetry is commonly extinguish'd in other Men. Yet Virgil has given me the Example of Entellus for my Encouragement: When he was well heated, the younger Champion cou'd not stand before him. And we find the Elder contended not for the Gift, but for the Honour; Nec dona moror. For Dampier has inform'd us, in his Voyages, that the Air of the Country which produces Gold, is never wholsom.
I had long since consider'd, that the way to please the best Judges, is not to Translate a Poet literally; and Virgil least of any other. For his peculiar Beauty lying in his choice of Words, I am excluded from it by the narrow compass of our Heroick Verse, unless I wou'd make use of Monosyllables only, and those clog'd with Consonants, which [Page] are the dead weight of our Mother-Tongue. 'Tis possible, I confess, though it rarely happens, that a Verse of Monosyllables may sound harmoniously; and some Examples of it I have seen. My first Line of the Aeneis is not harsh: ‘Arms, and the Man I Sing, who forc'd by Fate, &c.’
But a much better instance may be given from the last Line of Manilius, made English by our Learned and Judicious Mr. Creech.
Where the many Liquid Consonants are plac'd so Artfully, that they give a pleasing sound to the Words, though they are all of one Syllable.
'Tis true, I have been sometimes forc'd upon it in other places of this Work, but I never did it out of choice: I was either in haste, or Virgil gave me no occasion for the Ornament of Words; for it seldom happens but a Monosyllable Line turns Verse to Prose, and even that Prose is rugged, and unharmonious. Philarchus, I remember, taxes Balzac for placing Twenty Monosyllables in file, without one dissyllable betwixt them. The way I have taken, is not so streight as Metaphrase, nor so loose as Paraphrase: Some things too I have omitted, and sometimes have added of my own. Yet the omissions I hope, are but of Circumstances, and such as wou'd have no grace in English; and the Additions, I also hope, are easily deduc'd from Virgil's Sense. They will seem (at least I have the Vanity to think so), not stuck into him, but growing out of him. He studies brevity more than any other Poet, but he had the advantage of a Language wherein much may be comprehended in a little space. We, and all the Modern Tongues, have more Articles and Pronouns, besides signs of Tenses and Cases, and other Barbarities on which our Speech is built by the faults of our Forefathers. The Romans founded theirs upon the Greek: And the Greeks, we know, were labouring many hundred years upon their Language, before they brought it to perfection. They rejected all those Signs, and cut off as many Articles as they cou'd spare; comprehending in one word, what we are constrain'd to express in two; which is one Reason why we cannot write so concisely as they have done. The word Pater, for Example, signifies not only a Father, but your Father, my Father, his or her Father, all included in a word.
This inconvenience is common to all Modern Tongues, and this alone constrains us to employ more words than the Ancients needed. But having before observ'd, that Virgil endeavours to be short, and at the same time Elegant, I pursue the Excellence, and forsake the Brevity. For there he is like Ambergreace, a Rich Perfume, but of so close and glutinous a Body, that it must be open'd with inferiour scents of Musk or Civet, or the sweetness will not be drawn out into another Language.
On the whole Matter, I thought fit to steer betwixt the two Extreams, of Paraphrase, and literal Translation: To keep as near my Author as I cou'd, without losing all his Graces, the most Eminent of which, are in the Beauty of his words: And those words, I must add, are always Figurative. Such of these as wou'd retain their Elegance in our Tongue, I have endeavour'd to graff on it; but most [Page] of them are of necessity to be lost, because they will not shine in any but their own. Virgil has sometimes two of them in a Line; but the scantiness of our Heroick Verse, is not capable of receiving more than one: And that too must expiate for many others which have none. Such is the difference of the Languages, or such my want of skill in chusing words. Yet I may presume to say, and I hope with as much reason as the French Translator, that taking all the Materials of this divine Author, I have endeavour'd to make Virgil speak such English, as he wou'd himself have spoken, if he had been born in England, and in this present Age. I acknowledge, with Segrais, that I have not succeeded in this attempt, according to my desire: yet I shall not be wholly without praise, if in some sort I may be allow'd to have copied the Clearness, the Purity, the Easiness and the Magnificence of his Stile. But I shall have occasion to speak farther on this Subject, before I end the Preface.
When I mention'd the Pindarick Line, I should have added, that I take another License in my Verses: For I frequently make use of Triplet Rhymes, and for the same Reason: Because they bound the Sense. And therefore I generally join these two Licenses together: And make the last Verse of the Triplet a Pindarique: For besides, the Majesty which it gives, it confines the sense within the barriers of three Lines, which wou'd languish if it were lengthen'd into four. Spencer is my Example for both these priviledges of English Verses. And Chapman has follow'd him in his Translation of Homer. Mr. Cowley has given in to them after both: And all succeeding Writers after him. I regard them now as the Magna Charta of Heroick Poetry; and am too much an English-man to lose what my Ancestors have gain'd for me. Let the French and Italians value themselves on their Regularity: Strength and Elevation are our Standard. I said before, and I repeat it, that the affected purity of the French, has unsinew'd their Heroick Verse. The Language of an Epick Poem is almost wholly figurative: Yet they are so fearful of a Metaphor, that no Example of Virgil can encourage them to be bold with safety. Sure they might warm themselves by that sprightly Blaze, without approaching it so close as to singe their Wings; they may come as near it as their Master. Not that I wou'd discourage that purity of diction, in which he excels all other Poets. But he knows how far to extend his Franchises: And advances to the verge, without venturing a Foot beyond it. On the other side, without being injurious to the Memory of our English Pindar, I will presume to say, that his Metaphors are sometimes too violent, and his Language is not always pure. But at the same time, I must excuse him. For through the Iniquity of the times, he was forc'd to Travel, at an Age, when, instead of Learning Foreign Languages, he shou'd have studied the Beauties of his Mother Tongue: Which like all other Speeches, is to be cultivated early, or we shall never Write it with any kind of Elegance. Thus by gaining abroad he lost at home: Like the Painter in the Arcadia, who going to see a Skirmish, had his Arms lop'd off: and return'd, says Sir Philip Sydney, well instructed how to draw a Battel, but without a Hand to perform his Work.
There is another thing in which I have presum'd to deviate from him and Spencer. They both make Hemysticks (or half Verses) breaking off in the middle of a Line. I confess there are not many such in the Fairy Queen: And even those few might be occasion'd by his unhappy choice [Page] of so long a Stanza. Mr. Cowley had found out, that no kind of Staff is proper for an Heroick Poem; as being all too lirical: Yet though he wrote in Couplets, where Rhyme is freer from constraint, he frequently affects half Verses: of which we find not one in Homer, and I think not in any of the Grcek Poets, or the Latin, excepting only Virgil; and there is no question but he thought, he had Virgil's Authority for that License. But I am confident, our Poet never meant to leave him or any other such a Precedent. And I ground my Opinion on these two Reasons. First, we find no Example of a Hemystick in any of his Pastorals or Georgicks. For he had given the last finishing Strokes to both these Poems: But his Aeneis he left so uncorrect, at least so short of that perfection at which he aim'd, that we know how hard a Sentence He pass'd upon it: And in the second place, I reasonably presume, that he intended to have fill'd up all those Hemysticks, because in one of them we find the sense imperfect: ‘Quem tibi jam Trojâ—’ Which some foolish Gramarian, has ended for him, with a half Line of Nonsense. ‘Peperit fumante Crëusa.’ For Ascanius must have been born some Years before the burning of that City; which I need not prove. On the other side we find also, that he himself fill'd up one Line in the sixth Aeneid, the Enthusiasm seizing him, while he was reading to Augustus.
To which he added in that transport. Martemque accendere Cantu. And never was any Line more nobly finish'd; for the reasons which I have given in the Book of Painting. On these Considerations I have shun'd Hemysticks: Not being willing to imitate Virgil to a Fault; like Alexander's Courtiers, who affected to hold their Necks awry, because he cou'd not help it: I am confident your Lordship is by this time of my Opinion; and that you will look on those half lines hereafter, as the imperfect products of a hasty Muse: Like the Frogs and Serpents in the Nile; part of them kindled into Life; and part a lump of unform'd unanimated Mudd.
I am sensible that many of my whole Verses, are as imperfect as those halves; for want of time to digest them better: But give me leave to make the Excuse of Boccace: Who when he was upbraided, that some of his Novels had not the Spirit of the rest, return'd this Answer, that Charlemain who made the Paladins; was never able to raise an Army of them. The Leaders may be Heroes, but the multitude must consist of Common Men.
I am also bound to tell your Lordship, in my own defence: That from the beginning of the first Georgick to the end of the last Aeneid; I found the difficulty of Translation growing on me in every succeeding Book. For Virgil, above all Poets, had a stock, which I may call almost inexhaustible of figurative, Elegant, and sounding Words. I who inherit but a small portion of his Genius, and write in a Language so [Page] much inferiour to the Latin, have found it very painful to vary Phrases, when the same sense returns upon me. Even he himself, whether out of necessity or choice, has often express'd the same thing in the same words; and often repeated two or three whole Verses, which he had us'd before. Words are not so easily Coyn'd as Money: And yet we see that the Credit not only of Banks, but of Exchequers cracks, when little comes in, and much goes out. Virgil call'd upon me in every line for some new word: And I paid so long, that I was almost Banckrupt. So that the latter end must needs be more burdensom than the beginning or the middle. And consequently the Twelfth Aeneid cost me double the time of the first and second. What had become of me, if Virgil had tax'd me with another Book? I had certainly been reduc'd to pay the Publick in hammer'd Money for want of Mill'd; that is in the same old Words which I had us'd before: And the Receivers must have been forc'd to have taken any thing, where there was so little to be had.
Besides this difficulty (with which I have strugled, and made a shift to pass it over) there is one remaining, which is insuperable to all Translators. We are bound to our Author's Sense, though with the latitudes already mention'd (for I think it not so sacred, as that one Iota must not be added or diminish'd on pain of an Anathema.) But Slaves we are; and labour on another Man's Plantation; we dress the Vine-yard, but the Wine is the Owners: If the Soil be sometimes Barren, then we are sure of being scourg'd: If it be fruitful, and our Care succeeds, we are not thank'd; for the proud Reader will only say, the poor drudge has done his duty. But this is nothing to what follows; for being oblig'd to make his Sense intelligible, we are forc'd to untune our own Verses, that we may give his meaning to the Reader. He who Invents is Master of his Thoughts and Words: He can turn and vary them as he pleases, 'till he renders them harmonious. But the wretched Translator has no such priviledge: For being ty'd to the Thoughts, he must make what Musick he can in the Expression. And for this reason it cannot always be so sweet as that of the Original. There is a beauty of Sound, as Segrais has observ'd, in some Latin Words, which is wholly lost in any Modern Language. He instances in that Mollis Amaracus, on which Venus lays Cupid in the First Aeneid. If I should Translate it Sweet Marjoram, as the word signifies; the Reader would think I had mistaken Virgil: For those Village-words, as I may call them, gives us a mean Idea of the thing; but the Sound of the Latin is so much more pleasing, by the just mixture of the Vowels with the Consonants, that it raises our Fancies, to conceive somewhat more Noble than a common Herb; and to spread Roses under him, and strew Lillies over him; a Bed not unworthy the Grandson of the Goddess.
If I cannot Copy his Harmonious Numbers, how shall I imitate his noble Flights; where his Thoughts and Words are equally sublime?
[Page] What Modern Language, or what Poet can express the Majestick Beauty of this one Verse amongst a thousand others!
For my part I am lost in the admiration of it: I contemn the World, when I think on it, and my self when I Translate it.
Lay by Virgil, I beseech your Lordship, and all my better sort of Judges, when you take up my Version, and it will appear a passable Beauty, when the Original Muse is absent: But like Spencer's false Florimel made of Snow, it melts and vanishes, when the true one comes in sight. I will not excuse but justifie my self for one pretended Crime, with which I am liable to be charg'd by false Criticks, not only in this Translation, but in many of my Original Poems; that I latinize too much. 'Tis true, that when I find an English word, significant and sounding, I neither borrow from the Latin or any other Language: But when I want at home, I must seek abroad.
If sounding Words are not of our growth and Manufacture, who shall hinder me to Import them from a Foreign Country? I carry not out the Treasure of the Nation, which is never to return: but what I bring from Italy, I spend in England: Here it remains, and here it circulates; for if the Coyn be good, it will pass from one hand to another. I Trade both with the Living and the Dead, for the enrichment of our Native Language. We have enough in England to supply our necessity; but if we will have things of Magnificence and Splendour, we must get them by Commerce. Poetry requires Ornament, and that is not to be had from our Old Teuton Monosyllables; therefore if I find any Elegant Word in a Classick Author, I propose it to be Naturaliz'd, by using it my self: and if the Publick approves of it, the Bill passes. But every Man cannot distinguish betwixt Pedantry and Poetry: Every Man therefore is not fit to innovate. Upon the whole matter, a Poet must first be certain that the Word he wou'd Introduce is Beautiful in the Latin; and is to consider, in the next place, whether it will agree with the English Idiom: After this, he ought to take the Opinion of judicious Friends, such as are Learned in both Languages: And lastly, since no Man is infallible, let him use this License very sparingly; for if too many Foreign Words are pour'd in upon us, it looks as if they were design'd not to assist the Natives, but to Conquer them.
I am now drawing towards a Conclusion, and suspect your Lordship is very glad of it. But permit me first, to own what Helps I have had in this Undertaking. The late Earl of Lauderdail, sent me over his new Translation of the Aeneis; which he had ended before I ingag'd in the same Design. Neither did I then intend it: But some Proposals being afterwards made me by my Bookseller, I desir'd his Lordship's leave, that I might accept them, which he freely granted; and I have his Letter yet to shew, for that permission. He resolv'd to have Printed his Work; which he might have done two Years before I cou'd Publish mine: and had perform'd it, if Death had not prevented him. But having his Manuscript in my hands, I consulted it as often as I doubted of my Author's sense. For no Man understood Virgil better than that Learned Noble Man. His Friends, I hear, have yet another, and more Correct Copy of that Translation [Page] by them: which had they pleas'd to have given the Publick, the Judges must have been convinc'd, that I have not flatter'd him. Besides this help, which was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve has done me the Favour to review the Aeneis; and compare my Version with the Original. I shall never be asham'd to own, that this Excellent Young Man, has shew'd me many Faults, which I have endeavour'd to Correct. 'Tis true, he might have easily found more, and then my Translation had been more Perfect.
Two other Worthy Friends of mine, who desire to have their Names conceal'd, seeing me straitned in my time, took Pity on me, and gave me the Life of Virgil, the two Prefaces to the Pastorals, and the Georgics, and all the Arguments in Profe to the whole Translation. Which perhaps, has occasion'd a Report that the two First Poems are not mine. If it had been true, that I had taken their Verses for my own, I might have glory'd in their Aid; and like Terence, have farther'd the Opinion, that Scipio and Laelius join'd with me. But the same Style being continu'd thro' the whole, and the same Laws of Versification observ'd, are proofs sufficient, that this is one Man's Work: And your Lordship is too well acquainted with my manner, to doubt that any part of it is anothers.
That your Lordship may see I was in earnest, when I promis'd to hasten to an end, I will not give the Reasons, why I Writ not always in the proper terms of Navigation, Land-Service, or in the Cant of any Profession. I will only say, that Virgil has avoided those proprieties, because he Writ not to Mariners, Souldiers, Astronomers, Gardners, Peasants, &c. but to all in general, and in particular to Men and Ladies of the first Quality: who have been better Bred than to be too nicely knowing in the Terms. In such cases, 'tis enough for a Poet to write so plainly, that he may be understood by his Readers: To avoid impropriety, and not affect to be thought Learn'd in all things.
I have omitted the Four Preliminary Lines of the First Aeneid: Because I think them inferiour to any Four others, in the whole Poem: and consequently, believe they are not Virgil's. There is too great a gap betwixt the Adjective vicina in the Second Line, and the Substantive Arva in the latter end of the Third, which keeps his meaning in obscurity too long: And is contrary to the clearness of his Style. ‘Ʋt quamvis avidis’ Is too ambitious an Ornament to be his, and ‘Gratum opus Agricolis,’ Are all words unnecessary, and Independent of what he had said before. ‘Horrentia Martis Arma,’ Is worse than any of the rest. Horrentia is such a flat Epithete, as Tully wou'd have given us in his Verses. 'Tis a meer filler; to stop a vacancy in the Hexameter, and connect the Preface to the Work of Virgil. Our Author seems to sound a Charge, and begins like the clangour of a Trumpet; ‘[Page] Arma, virumque cano; Trojae qui primus ab oris.’
Scarce a word without an R. and the Vowels for the greater part sonorous. The Prefacer began with Ille ego, which He was constrain'd to patch up in the Fourth line with At nunc, to make the Sense cohere. And if both those words are not notorious botches, I am much deceiv'd, though the French Translator thinks otherwise. For my own part, I am rather of Opinion, that they were added by Tucca and Varius, than Retrench'd.
I know it may be answer'd by such as think Virgil the Author of the four Lines; that he asserts his Title to the Aeneis, in the beginning of this Work, as he did to the two former, in the last lines of the fourth Georgic. I will not reply otherwise to this, than by desiring them to compare these four Lines with the four others; which we know are his, because no Poet but he alone could write them. If they cannot distinguish Creeping from Flying, let them lay down Virgil, and take up Ovid de Ponto in his stead. My Master needed not the assistance of that Preliminary Poet to prove his Claim. His own Majestick Meen discovers him to be the King, amidst a Thousand Courtiers. It was a superfluous Office, and therefore I wou'd not set those Verses in the Front of Virgil. But have rejected them to my own Preface.
If there be not a tolerable Line in all these six, the Prefacer, gave me no occasion to write better. This is a just Apology in this place. But I have done great Wrong to Virgil in the whole Translation: Want of Time, the Inferiority of our Language; the inconvenience of Rhyme, and all the other Excuses I have made, may alleviate my Fault, but cannot justisie the boldness of my Undertaking. What avails it me to acknowledge freely, that I have not been able to do him right in any line? For even my own Confession makes against me; and it will always be return'd upon me, Why then did you attempt it? To which, no other Answer can be made, than that I have done him less Injury than any of his former Libellers.
What they call'd his Picture, had been drawn at length, so many times, by the Daubers of almost all Nations, and still so unlike him, that I snatch'd up the Pencil with disdain: being satisfi'd before hand, that I cou'd make some small resemblance of him, though I must be content with a worse likeness. A Sixth Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a single Orpheus, and some other Features, have been exactly taken: But those Holiday Authors writ for Pleasure; and only shew'd us what they cou'd have done, if they wou'd have taken pains, to perform the whole.
Be pleas'd, My Lord, to accept, with your wonted goodness, this unworthy Present, which I make you. I have taken off one trouble from you, of defending it, by acknowledging its Imperfections: And though some part of them are cover'd in the Verse; (as Ericthonius [Page] rode always in a Chariot, to hide his lameness.) Such of them as cannot be conceal'd, you will please to connive at, though in the strictness of your Judgment, you cannot Pardon. If Homer was allow'd to nod sometimes, in so long a Work, it will be no wonder if I often fall asleep. You took my Aureng-zeb into your Protection, with all his faults: And I hope here cannot be so many, because I Translate an Author, who gives me such Examples of Correctness. What my Jury may be, I know not; but 'tis good for a Criminal to plead before a favourable Judge: If I had said Partial, wou'd your Lordship have forgiven me? Or will you give me leave to acquaint the World, that I have many times been oblig'd to your Bounty since the Revolution. Though I never was reduc'd to beg a Charity, nor ever had the Impudence to ask one, either of your Lordship, or your Noble Kinsman the Earl of Dorset, much less of any other, yet when I least expected it, you have both remember'd me. So inherent it is in your Family not to forget an Old Servant. It looks rather like Ingratitude on my part, that where I have been so often oblig'd, I have appear'd so seldom to return my thanks: and where I was also so sure of being well receiv'd. Somewhat of Laziness was in the case; and somewhat too of Modesty: But nothing of Disrespect, or of Unthankfulness. I will not say that your Lordship has encourag'd me to this Presumption, lest if my Labours meet with no success in Publick, I may expose your Judgment to be Censur'd. As for my own Enemies I shall never think them worth an Answer; and if your Lordship has any, they will not dare to Arraign you for your want of Knowledge in this Art, till they can produce somewhat betterof their own, than your Essay on Poetry. 'Twas on this Consideration, that I have drawn out my Preface to so great a length. Had I not address'd to a Poet, and a Critick of the first Magnitude, I had my self been tax'd for want of Judgment, and sham'd my Patron for want of Understanding. But neither will you, My Lord, so soon be tir'd as any other, because the Discourse is on your Art; Neither will the Learned Reader think it tedious, because it is ad Clerum. At least, when he begins to be weary, the Church Doors are open. That I may pursue the Allegory with a short Prayer, after a long Sermon:
May you Live happily and long, for the Service of your Country, the Encouragement of good Letters and the Ornament of Poetry; which cannot be wish'd more earnestly by any Man, than by
To his Royall Highness PRINCE GEORGE of DENMARK. &
Virgil's Aeneis.
The First Book of the Aeneis.
The Trojans, after a seven Years Voyage, set sail for Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful Storm, which Aeolus raises at Juno's Request. The Tempest sinks one, and scatters the rest: Neptune drives off the Winds and calms the Sea. Aeneas with his own Ship, and six more, arrives safe at an Affrican Port. Venus complains to Jupiter of her Son's Misfortunes. Jupiter comforts her, and sends Mercury to procure him a kind Reception among the Carthaginians. Aeneas going out to discover the Country, meets his Mother in the Shape of an Huntress, who conveys him in a Cloud to Carthage; where he sees his Friends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind Entertainment from the Queen. Dido by a device of Venus begins to have a Passion for him, and after some Discourse with him, desires the History of his Adventures since the Siege of Troy, which is the Subject of the two following Books.
To her Royall Highness the Princess Anne of Denmark
To her Grace Mary Dutchess of Ormond
To ye Right Honble: Anne Countess of Exeter Wife to ye Right Honble: John Earle of Exeter Baron Coecill of Burleigh
To the Right Honble: Elizabeth Countess Dowager of Winchelsea &ct.
To the most Honble. Ursula Marchioness of Normaneby
The Second Book of the Aeneis.
Aeneas relates how the City of Troy was taken, after a Ten Years Siege, by the Treachery of Sinon, and the Stratagem of a wooden Horse. He declares the fixt Resolution he had taken not to survive the Ruins of his Country, and the various Adventures he met with in the Defence of it: at last having been before advis'd by Hector's Ghost, and now by the Appearance of his Mother Venus, he is prevail'd upon to leave the Town, and settle his Houshold-Gods in another Country. in order to this, he carries off his Father on his Shoulders, and leads his little Son by the Hand, his Wife following him behind. When he comes to the Place appointed for the general Rendevouze, he finds a great Confluence of People, but misses his Wife, whose Ghost afterwards appears to him, and tells him the Land which was design'd for him.
To ye most Illustrious Prince Charles Duke of Somerset, Knight of ye most Noble Order of ye Garter.
To the Right Honble: James Earle of Salisbury &
To the Right Honble. William OBryen Earle of Inchiquin in the Kingdom of Ireland &ct
To ye Right Honble Roger Earle of Orrery Baron of Broghill &ct
To ye Right Honble, Robt: Ld. Constable Visnt. Dunbar in ye Kingdom of Scotland
To ye Right Honble: Mary Countess Dowager of Northampton
The Third Book of the Aeneis.
Aeneas proceeds in his Relation: He gives an Account of the Fleet with which he sail'd, and the Success of his first Voyage to Thrace; from thence he directs his Course to Delos, and asks the Oracle what place the Gods had appointed for his Habitation? By a mistake of the Oracle's Answer, he settles in Crete; his household Gods give him the true sense of the Oracle, in a Dream. He follows their advice, and makes the best of his way for Italy: He is cast on several Shores, and meets with very surprising Adventures, 'till at length he lands on Sicily: where his Father Anchises dies. This is the place which he was sailing from when the Tempest rose and threw him upon the Carthaginian Coast.
To the Right Honble. William Stanley Earle of Derby &ct Ld of Man & ye Isles
To the Right Honble: Nathanael Lord Bishop of Durham
To ye Right Reverend Dr: John Hartstonge Bp: of Ossory in Kilkenny Son of Sr. Standish Hartstonge Bart
To The Honble. Dr: Ion: Mountague Master of Trinity College in Cambridge
To Edward Browne Dr. in Physick.
To Wm. Gibbons Dr.: in Physick
The Fourth Book of the Aeneis.
Dido discovers to her Sister her Passion for Aeneas, and her thoughts of marrying him. She prepares a Hunting-Match for his Entertainment. Juno by Venus's consent raises a Storm, which separates the Hunters, and drives Aeneas and Dido into the same Cave, where their Marriage is suppos'd to be compleated. Jupiter dispatches Mercury to Aeneas, to warn him from Carthage; Aeneas secretly prepares for his Voyage: Dido finds out his Design, and to put a stop to it, makes use of her own, and her Sister's Entreaties, and discovers all the variety of Passions that are incident to a neglected Lover: When nothing wou'd prevail upon him, she contrives her own Death, with which this Book concludes.
To ye Right Honble. John Earle of Exeter Baron Coecill of Burleigh &ct
To the Lady Mary Giffard
To The Right Honble. Hugh Ld Clifford Baron of Chudleigh in ye County of Devon,
To John Walkeden of ye. Inner Temple Esq:r
To Henry Tasburgh Esq of Bodney in ye County of Norfolk.
The Fifth Book of the Aeneis.
Aeneas setting sail from Africk, is driven by a Storm on the Coasts of Sicily: Where he is hospitably receiv'd by his friend Acestes, King of part of the Island, and born of Trojan Parentage. He applies himself to celebrate the Memory of his Father with Divine Honours: And accordingly institutes Funeral Games, and appoints Prizes for those who shou'd conquer in them. While the Ceremonies were performing, Juno sends Iris to perswade the Trojan Women to burn the Ships, who upon her instigation set fire to them, which burnt four, and would have consum'd the rest, had not Jupiter by a miraculous Shower extinguish'd it. Upon this Aeneas by the advice of one of his Generals, and a Vision of his Father, builds a City for the Women, Old Men, and others, who were either unfit for War, or weary of the Voyage, and sails for Italy: Venus procures of Neptune a safe Voyage for him and all his Men, excepting only his Pilot Palinurus, who was unfortunately lost.
To the most Illustrious Prince Charles Duke of St Albans Master Falconer to his Maty. and Captaine of ye Honble. Band of Gent Pensioners
To the Right Honble: Arthur Herbert Earle of Torrington & Baron of Torbay
To Anthony Hammond of Somersham in the County of Huntingdon Esqr.
To Henry St John of Lydiard Tregoz Esqr.
To Stephen Waller Dr: of Laws
To ye most Illustrious Prince William Duke of Glocester &ct.
To Edmond Waller of Beacons Field in the County of Bucks Esq
The Sixth Book of the Aeneis.
The Sibyl foretels Aeneas the Adventures he should meet with in Italy. She attends him to Hell; describing to him the various Scenes of that Place, and conducting him to his Father Anchises. Who instructs him in those sublime Mysteries of the Soul of the World, and the Transmigration: And shews him that glorious Race of Heroes, which was to descend from him, and his Posterity.
To ye Right Honble Basil Earle of Denbigh Vis-count Fielding Baron Newenham Padox & St Lis
To Sr Fleetwood Sheppard Knight, Gent: Vsher of ye Black Rod
To Sr: Tho: Dyke of Horeham in ye County of Sussex Bart:
To Mrs: Anne Baynard Daughter of Dr. Ednd: Baynard of the Family of Leckham in ye County of Wilts
To John Lenknor Esqr: of West Deane in the County of Sussex
To John Pulteney of the Parish of St: James's Westminster Esq.
To Christopher Knight Esq of Chanton in Hantshire
To Robert Harley of Bramton Castle in ye County of Hereford Esq
The Seventh Book of the Aeneis.
King Latinus entertains Aeneas, and promises him his only Daughter, Lavinia, the Heiress of his Crown. Turnus being in Love with her, favour'd by her Mother, and stir'd up by Juno, and Alecto, breaks the Treaty which was made, and engages in his Quarrel, Mezentius, Camilla, Messapus, and many others of the Neighbouring Princes; whose Forces and the Names of their Commanders are here particularly related.
To the Right Honble Henry Earle of Romney Viscount Sydney of Shippy Baron Milton Master Generall of the Ordinance Ld Warden of the Cinque Ports &ct
To Anthony Henley of ye Grange in Hantshire Esqr:
To George Stepney Esqr. His Maties. Envoy Extrary: to Severall Princes in, Germany and one of the Coincill of Trade
To Colll: Thomas Farrington of the Parish of St: James's Westminster
To ye Right Honble: ye Lady Mary Sackvile daughter to Charles Earle of Dorset & Middlesex
To Charles Fox of ye Parish of St: Martins in ye Fields Esqr.
The Eighth Book of the Aeneis.
The War being now begun, both the Generals make all possible Preparations. Tumus sends to Diomedes. Aeneas goes in Person to beg Succours from Evander and the Tuscans. Evander receives him kindly, furnishes him with Men, and sends his Son Pallas with him. Vulcan, at the Request of Venus, makes Arms for her Son Aeneas, and draws on his Shield the most memorable Actions of his Posterity.
To ye Right Honble. Tho Earle of Ailesbury & Elgin Viscount Bruce of Ampthill Baron Bruce of Whorleton Shelton and Kinloss &ct.
To the Honble. Robert Bruce Second son to Robert late Earle of Ailesbury
To Christopher Rich of Grays Inn Esq
To Sr. Godfry Kneller Knight Principall Painter to his Majesty
The Ninth Book of the Aeneis.
Turnus takes Advantage of Aeneas's Absence, fires some of his Ships, (which are transform'd into Sea-Nymphs) and assaults his Camp. The Trojans reduc'd to the last Extremities, send Nisus and Euryalus to recall Aeneas; which furnishes the Poet with that admirable Episode of their Friendship, Generosity; and the conclusion of their Adventures.
To the Right Honble. Robert Earle of Sunderland Ld. Chamberlaine of his Majesties Household &
To Thomas Foley Junr: of Great Witley Court in the County of Worcester Esq.
To ye Honble: Colonel George Cholmondeley Colonel of his Majestys Troop of Granadier Guards & Groome of his Majties: Bedchamber
To Sr: Ion Percivalé Bart. of Barton in the County of Corke in Ireland
To Mr John Clos Jerman
The Tenth Book of the Aeneis.
Jupiter calling a Council of the Gods, forbids them to engage in either Party. At Aeneas's return there is a bloody Battel: Turnus killing Pallas; Aeneas, Lausus and Mezentius. Mezentius is describ'd as an Atheist; Lausus as a pious and virtuous Youth: The different Actions and Death of these two, are the Subject of a Noble Episode.
To ye Right Honble: Iohn Ld. Viscount Fitzharding of Beare-haven and Bawn Berkley of Rathdowne in ye Kingdom of Ireland & Master of ye Horse to Her Royall Highness the Princess Anne of Denmark
To ye Right Honble: Sr: Robert Howard Auditor of his Maties. Exchequer, and one of ye Lords of his Majties. most Honble: Prioy Councill
To Sr: Iohn Leveson Gower of Trentham in, Staffordshire Baronet
To Sr: Charles Orby Baronet of Burton Pednarden in ye County of Lincolne
To Tho: Hopkins of ye Middle Temple Esq.
The Eleventh Book of the Aeneis.
Aeneas erects a Trophy of the Spoils of Mezentius; grants a Truce for burying the dead; and sends home the Body of Pallas with great Solemnity. Latinus calls a Council to propose offers of Peace to Aeneas, which occasions great Animosity betwixt Turnus and Drances: In the mean time there is a sharp Engagement of the Horse; wherein Camilla signalizes her self; is kill'd: And the Latine Troops are entirely defeated.
To ye Right Noble Charles Duke of Shrensbury Marquis of Alton Earle of Shrensbury Wexford & Water-ford, Baron Talbot Strange of Blackmere Gifford of Brimsfield &ct One of the Lords of his Ma.ties most Hon.ble Privy Councill Principall Secretary of State, and Knight of ye most Noble Order of the Garter.
To Sr. Walter Kirkham Blount of Sodington in the County of Worcester Bart.
To ye Honble John Noel Esq 2d Son to ye Rt Honble: Baptist late Ld Viscount Campden Baron of Ridlington & Ilmington
To ye most Honble. Johns Marquiss of Normanby Earle of Mulgrave & Kt. of ye most noble Order of ye Garter
To the Right Honble ▪ William Berkley Baron Berkley of Stratton &ct.
To Arthur Manwaringe of Ightfield in the County of Salop Esqr:
The Twelfth Book of the Aeneis.
Turnus challenges Aeneas to a single Combat: Articles are agreed on, but broken by the Rutili, who wound Aeneas: He is miraculously cur'd by Venus, forces Turnus to a Duel, and concludes the Poem with his Death.
To ye Right Honble: Phillip Lord Stanhope Earle of Chesterfield Baron of Shelford in the Kingdom of England
To ye Honble. Brigadier Edward Fitzpatrick
To Thomas Hobbs Dr: in Phisic
To the Right Honble: Francis North Baron of Guilford
To his Grace James Duke of Ormond Chancellor of the Ʋniversitys of Oxford and Dublin Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter &c:
POSTSCRIPT TO THE READER.
WHAT Virgil wrote in the vigour of his Age, in Plenty and at Ease, I have undertaken to Translate in my Declining Years: strugling with Wants, oppress'd with Sickness, curb'd in my Genius, lyable to be misconstrued in all I write; and my Judges, if they are not very equitable, already prejudic'd against me, by the Lying Character which has been given them of my Morals. Yet steady to my Principles, and not dispirited with my Afflictions, I have, by the Blessing of God on my Endeavours, overcome all difficulties; and, in some measure, acquitted my self of the Debt which I ow'd the Publick, when I undertook this Work. In the first place therefore, I thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power, the Assistance he has given me in the beginning, the Prosecution, and Conclusion of my present Studies, which are more happily perform'd than I could have promis'd to my self, when I labour'd under such Discouragements. For, what I have done, Imperfect as it is, for want of Health and leisure to Correct it, will be judg'd in after Ages, and possibly in the present, to be no dishonour to my Native Country; whose Language and Poetry wou'd be more esteem'd abroad, if they were better understood. Somewhat (give me leave to say) I have added to both of them in the choice of Words; and Harmony of Numbers which were wanting, especially the last, in all our Poets, even in those who being endu'd with Genius, yet have not Cultivated their Mother-Tongue with sufficient Care; or relying on the Beauty of their Thoughts, have judg'd the Ornament of Words, and sweetness of Sound unnecessary. One is for raking in Chaucer (our English Ennius) for antiquated Words, which are never to be reviv'd, but when Sound or Significancy is wanting in the present Language. But many of his deserve not this Redemption, any more than the Crouds of Men who daily die, or are slain for Six-pence in a Battel, merit to be restor'd to Life, if a Wish cou'd revive them. Others have no Ear for Verse, nor choice of Words; nor distinction of Thoughts; but mingle Farthings with their Gold to make up the Sum. Here is a Field of Satire open'd to me: But since the Revolution, I have wholly renounc'd that Talent. For who wou'd give Physick to the Great when he is uncall'd? To do his Patient no good, and indanger himself for his Prescription? Neither am I ignorant, but I may justly be Condemn'd for many of those Faults, of which I have too liberally Arraign'd others.
[Page 622] 'Tis enough for me, if the Government will let me pass unquestion'd. In the mean time, I am oblig'd in gratitude, to return my Thanks to many of them, who have not only distinguish'd me from others of the same Party, by a particular exception of Grace, but without considering the Man, have been Bountiful to the Poet: Have encourag'd Virgil to speak such English, as I could teach him, and rewarded his Interpreter, for the pains he has taken in bringing him over into Britain, by defraying the Charges of his Voyage. Even Cerberus, when he had receiv'd the Sop, permitted Aeneas to pass freely to Elysium. Had it been offer'd me, and I had refus'd it, yet still some gratitude is due to such who were willing to oblige me. But how much more to those from whom I have receiv'd the Favours which they have offer'd to one of a different Perswasion. Amongst whom I cannot omit naming the Earls of Darby and of Peterborough. To the first of these, I have not the Honour to be known; and therefore his liberality as much unexpected, as it was undeserv'd. The present Earl of Peterborough has been pleas'd long since to accept the tenders of my Service: His Favours are so frequent to me, that I receive them almost by prescription. No difference of Interests or Opinion have been able to withdraw his Protection from me: And I might justly be condemn'd for the most unthankful of Mankind, if I did not always preserve for him a most profound Respect and inviolable Gratitude. I must also add, that if the last Aeneid shine amongst its Fellows, 'tis owing to the Commands of Sir William Trumball, one of the Principal Secretaries of State, who recommended it, as his Favourite, to my Care: and for his sake particularly I have made it mine. For who wou'd confess weariness, when he enjoin'd a fresh Labour? I cou'd not but invoke the assistance of a Muse, for this last Office.
Neither am I to forget the Noble Present which was made me by Gilbert Dolben Esq the worthy Son of the late Arch-Bishop of York: who, when I began this Work, enrich'd me with all the several Editions of Virgil, and all the Commentaries of those Editions in Latine. Amongst which, I cou'd not but prefer the Dolphins; as the last, the shortest, and the most Judicious. Fabrini I had also sent me from Italy; but either he understands Virgil very imperfectly, or I have no knowledge of my Author.
Being Invited by that worthy Gentleman, Sir William Bowyer, to Denham-Court, I Translated the first Georgic at his House, and the greatest part of the last Aeneid. A more friendly Entertainment no Man ever found. No wonder therefore if both those Versions surpass the rest, and own the satisfaction I receiv'd in his Converse, with whom I had the honour to be bred in Cambridge, and in the same College. The Seventh Aeneid was made English at Burleigh, the Magnificent Abode of the Earl of Exeter: In a Village belonging to his Family I was born, and under his Roof I endeavour'd to make that Aeneid appear in English with as much lustre as I cou'd: though my Author has not given the finishing strokes either to it, or to the Eleventh, as I perhaps cou'd prove in both, if I durst presume to Criticise my Master.
By a Letter from Will. Walsh of Abberley Esq (who has so long honour'd me with his Friendship, and who, without flattery, is the best Critick of our Nation,) I have been inform'd that his Grace the [Page 623] Duke of Shrewsbury has procur'd a Printed Copy of the Pastorals, Georgics, and six first Aeneids, from my Bookseller, and has read them in the Country, together with my Friend. This Noble Person having been pleas'd to give them a Commendation, which I presume not to insert; has made me vain enough to boast of so great a favour, and to think I have succeeded beyond my hopes; the Character of his Excellent Judgment, the acuteness of his Wit, and his general Knowledge of good Letters, being known as well to all the World, as the sweetness of his disposition, his Humanity, his easiness of access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of his protection, are known to all who have approach'd him; and to me in particular, who have formerly had the honour of his Conversation. Whoever has given the World the Translation of part of the third Georgic, which he calls The Power of Love, has put me to sufficient pains to make my own not inferiour to his: As my Lord Roscommon's Silenus had formerly given me the same trouble. The most Ingenious Mr. Addison of Oxford has also been as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the same account. After his Bees, my latter Swarm is scarcely worth the hiving. Mr. Cowley's praise of a Countrey Life is Excellent; but 'tis rather an imitation of Virgil, than a Version. That I have recover'd in some measure the health which I had lost by too much application to this Work, is owing, next to God's Mercy, to the Skill and Care of Dr. Guibbons, and Dr. Hobbs, the two Ornaments of their Profession; whom I can only pay by this Acknowledgment. The whole Faculty has always been ready to oblige me: and the only one of them who endeavour'd to defame me, had it not in his power. I desire pardon from my Readers for saying so much in relation to my self, which concerns not them: and with my acknowledgements to all my Subscribers, have only to add, that the few Notes which follow, are par maniere d'acquit, because I had oblig'd my self by Articles, to do somewhat of that kind. These scattering Observations are rather guesses at my Author's meaning in some passages, than proofs that so he meant. The Unlearn'd may have recourse to any Poetical Dictionary in English, for the Names of Persons, Places, or Fables, which the Learned need not: But that little which I say, is either new or necessary. And the first of these qualifications never fails to invite a Reader, if not to please him.
NOTES and OBSERVATIONS ON Virgil's Works IN ENGLISH.
PAstoral 1. Line 6. There first the Youth of Heavenly Birth I view'd. Virgil means Octavius Caesar: Heir to Julius: who perhaps had not arriv'd to his Twentieth Year, when Virgil saw him first. Vide his Life. Of Heavenly Birth or Heavenly Blood; because the Julian Family was deriv'd from Julus, Son to Aeneas, and Grand-Son to Venus.
Pastoral 2d. Line 65. The Short Narcissus, That is, of short continuance.
Pastoral 3d. Line 95. For him, the God of Shepherds and their Sheep, Phoebus, not Pan, is here call'd the God of Shepherds: The Poet alludes to the same Story, which he touches in the beginning of the Second Georgic, where he calls Phoebus the Amphrysian Shepherd, because he fed the Sheep and Oxen of Admetus (with whom he was in Love) on the Hill Amphrysus.
Pastoral 4th. Line 73. Begin Auspicious Boy, &c. In Latin thus. Incipe parve Puer, risu cognoscere Matrem, &c. I have Translated the Passage to this Sense; that the Infant smiling on his Mother, singles her out from the rest of the Company about him. Erythraeus, Bembus, and Joseph Scaliger, are of this Opinion. Yet they and I may be mistaken. For immediately after, we find these words, Cui non risere Parentes, which imply another Sense, as if the Parents smil'd on the New-born Infant: And that the Babe on whom they vouchsaf'd not to smile, was born to ill Fortune. For they tell a Story, that when Vulcan, the only Son of Jupiter and Juno came into the World, he was so hard favour'd, that both his Parents frown'd on him: And Jupiter threw him out of Heaven; he fell on the Island Lemnos, and was Lame ever afterwards. The last Line of the Pastoral seems to justify this Sense, Nec Deus hunc Mensâ, Dea nec dignata Cubili est. For though he married Venus, yet his Mother Juno was not present at the Nuptials to bless them; as appears by his Wife's Incontinence. They say also, that he was banish'd from the Banquets of the Gods: If so, that Punishment could be of no long continuance, for Homer makes him present at their Feasts; and composing a Quarrel betwixt his Parents, with a Bowl of Nectar. The matter is of no great Consequence; and therefore [Page 626] I adhere to my Translation, for these two Reasons: First, Virgil has this following Line. Matri long a docem tulerunt fastidia Menses, as if the Infants smiling on his Mother, was a Reward to her for bearing him ten Months in her Body, four Weeks longer than the usual time. Secondly, Catullus is cited by Joseph Scaliger, as favouring this Opinion, in his Epithalamium of Manlius Torquatus.
What if I shou'd steer betwixt the two Extreams, and conclude, that the Infant, who was to be happy, must not only smile on his Parents, but also they on him? For Scaliger notes that the Infants who smil'd not at their Birth, were observ'd to be [...], or sullen (as I have Translated it) during all their Life: And Servius, and almost all the Modern Commentators affirm, that no Child was thought Fortunate on whom his Parents smil'd not, at his Birth. I observe farther, that the Ancients thought the Infant who came into the World at the end of the Tenth Month, was Born to some extraordinary Fortune, good or Bad. Such was the Birth of the late Prince of Condé, of whom his Mother was not brought to Bed, 'till almost Eleven Months were expir'd after his Fathers Death: Yet the College of Physicians at Paris, concluded he was Lawfully begotten. My Ingenious Friend, Anthony Henley Esq desir'd me to make a Note on this Passage of Virgil: Adding what I had not Read; that the Jews have been so Superstitious, as to observe not only the first Look or Action of an Infant, but also the first Word which the Parent, or any of the Assistants spoke after the Birth: And from thence they gave a Name to the Child alluding to it.
Pastoral 6. My Lord Roscommon's Notes on this Pastoral, are equal to his excellent Translation of it; and thither I refer the Reader.
The Eighth and Tenth Pastorals are already Translated to all manner of advantage, by my excellent Friend, Mr. Stafford. So is the Episode of Camilla, in the Eleventh Eneid.
This Eight Pastoral is Copied by our Author from two Bucolicks of Theocritus. Spencer has follow'd both Virgil and Theocritus, in the Charms which he employs for Curing Britomartis of her Love. But he had also our Poet's Ceiris in his Eye: For there not only the Inchantments are to be found; but also the very Name of Britomartis.
In the Ninth Pastoral, Virgil has made a Collection of many scattering Passages, which he had Translated from Theocritus: And here he has bound them into a Nosegay.
Georgic the First. The Poetry of this Book is more sublime than any part of Virgil, if I have any Taste. And if ever I have Copied his Majestick Stile 'tis here. The Compliment he makes Augustus almost in the beginning, is ill imitated by his Successors Lucan and Statius. They Dedicated to Tyrants; and their Flatteries are gross and fulsome. Virgil's Address is both more lofty and more just. In the three last Lines of this Georgic, I think I have discover'd a secret Compliment to the Emperour, which none of the Commentators have observ'd. Virgil had just before describ'd the Miseries which Rome had undergone betwixt the Triumvirs and the Commonwealth-Party: In the close of all, he seems to excuse the Crimes committed by his Patron [Page 627] Caesar, as if he were constrain'd against his own Temper to those violent Proceedings, by the necessity of the Times in general, but more particularly by his two Partners, Anthony and Lepidus. Fertur Equis Auriga, nec audit Currus habenas. They were the Head-strong Horses, who hurried Octavius, the trembling Charioteer along, and were deaf to his▪ reclaiming them. I observe farther; that the present Wars, in which all Europe, and part of Asia are ingag'd at present; are wag'd in the same places here describ'd: Atque hinc Euphrates, illinc Germania Bellum, &c. As if Virgil had Prophecy'd of this Age.
Georgic. 2d. The Praises of Italy, (Translated by the Learned, and every way Excellent Mr. Chetwood) which are Printed in one of the Miscellany Poems, are the greatest Ornament of this Book. Wherein for want of sufficient skill in Gardening, Agriculture, &c. I may possibly be mistaken in some Terms. But concerning Grafting, my Honour'd Friend Sir William Bowyer has assur'd me, that Virgil has shewn more of Poetry than Skill, at least in relation to our more Northern Climates. And that many of our Stocks will not receive such Grafts, as our Po [...]t tells us would Bear in Italy. Nature has consir'd with Art to make the Garden at Denham-Court, of Sir William's own Plantation, one of the most delicious Spots of Ground in England: It contains not above Five Acres, (just the compass of Alcinous his Garden, describ'd in the Odysses:) But Virgil says in this very Georgic, Laudato ingentia Rura; Exiguum colito.
Georgic 3d. Line the 45th. Next him, Niphates with inverted Ʋrn, &c. It has been objected to me, that I understood not this Passage of Virgil, because I call Niphates a River, which is a Mountain in Armenia. But the River arising from the same Mountain, is also called Niphates. And having spoken of Nile before, I might reasonably think, that Virgil rather meant to couple two Rivers, than a River and a Mountain.
Line 224. The Male has done, &c. The transition is obscure in Virgil. He began with Cows, then proceeds to treat of Horses: Now returns to Cows▪
Line 476. 'Till the new Ram receives th' Exalted Sun. Astrologers tell us, that the Sun receives his Exaltation in the Sign Aries: Virgil perfectly understood both Astronomy and Astrology.
Georgic 4. Line 27. That when the Youthful Prince. My most Ingenious Friend Sir Henry Shere, has observ'd through a Glass-Hive, that the Young Prince of the Bees, or Heir presumptive of the Crown, approaches the King's Apartment with great Reverence; and for three successive Mornings demands permission, to lead forth a Colony of that Years Bees. If his Petition be granted, which he seems to make by humble hummings; the Swarm arises under his Conduct: If the Answer be, le Roy s'avisera, that is, if the Old Monarch think it not convenient for the Publick good, to part with so many of his Subjects; the next Morning the Prince is found dead, before the Threshold of the Palace.
Line 477. The Poet here records the Names of Fifty River Nymphs. And for once I have Translated them all. But in the Aeneis I thought not my self oblig'd to be so exact; for in naming many Men who were kill'd by Heroes, I have omitted some, which wou'd not sound in English Verse.
Line 660. The Episode of Orpheus and Eurydice begins here. And [Page 628] contains the only Machine which Virgil uses in the Georgics. I have observ'd in the Epistle before the Aeneis, that our Author seldom employs Machines but to adorn his Poem: And that the Action which they seemingly perform, is really produc'd without them. Of this Nature is the Legend of the Bees restor'd by Miracle; when the Receipt which the Poet gives, wou'd do the Work without one. The only Beautiful Machine which I remember in the Modern Poets, is in Ariosto. Where God commands St. Michael to take care, that Paris then Besieg'd by the Saracens, should be succour'd by Rinaldo. In order to this, he enjoins the Arch-Angel to find Silence and Discord. The first to Conduct the Christian Army to relieve the Town, with so much secrecy, that their March shou'd not be discover'd; the latter to enter the Camp of the Infidels, and there to sow Dissention among the Principal Commanders. The Heavenly Messenger takes his way to an Ancient Monastery; not doubting there to find Silence in her primitive Abode. But instead of Silence finds Discord: The Monks, being divided into Factions, about the choice of some New Officer, were at Snic and Snee with their drawn Knifes. The Satyr needs no Explanation. And here it may be also observ'd, that Ambition, Jealousie, and Worldly Interest, and point of Honour, had made variance both in the Cloyster and the Camp; and strict Discipline had done the Work of Silence, in Conducting the Christian Army to surprise the Turks.
Aeneid 1. Line 111. ‘And make thee Father of a happy Line.’ This was an obliging Promise to Eolus; who had been so unhappy in his former Children, Macareus and Canacè.
Line 196.
Poetically speaking, the Fields of Air, are under the Command of Juno; and her Vicegerent Eolus. Why then does Neptune call them His? I answer, because being God of the Seas, Eolus could raise no Tempests in the Atmosphere above them without his leave. But why does Juno Address to her own Substitute? I answer, He had an immediate Power over the Winds, whom Juno desires to employ on her Revenge. That Power was absolute by Land; which Virgil plainly insinuates: For when Boreas and his Brethren were let loose, he says at first terras turbine perflant: Then adds, Incubuere Mari: To raise a Tempest on the Sea was Usurpation on the Prerogative of Neptune; who had given him no leave, and therefore was inrag'd at his Attempt. I may also add, that they who are in Passion, as Neptune then was, are apt to assume to themselves, more than is properly their due.
Line 450.
Thus, in the Original.
This is a Family Complement, which Aeneas here bestows on Venus. His Father Anchises had us'd the very same to that Goddess when he Courted her. This appears by that very Ancient Greek Poem, in which that Amour is so beautifully describ'd, and which is thought Homer's: Though it seems to be Written before his Age.
[Page 629] Line 980.
This, I confess, is improperly Translated; and according to the Modern Fashion of sitting at Table. But the Ancient custom of lying on Beds, had not been understood by the Unlearn'd Reader.
Aeneid the Second. The Destruction of Veii is here shadow'd under that of Troy: Livy in his Description of it, seems to have emulated in his Prose, and almost equal'd the Beauty of Virgil's Verse.
Aeneid the 3d. Verse 132.
Virgil Translated this Verse from Homer: Homer had it from Orpheus; and Orpheus from an Ancient Oracle of Apollo. On this Account it is, that Virgil immediately Subjoins these Words, Haec Phoebus, &c. Eustathius takes notice, that the Old Poets were wont to take whole Paragraphs from one another, which justifies our Poet for what he borrows from Homer. Bochartus in his Letter to Segrais, mentions an Oracle which he found in the fragments of an Old Greek Historian: The Sense whereof is this in English; that when the Empire of the Priamidae should be destroy'd, the Line of Anchises should succeed. Venus therefore, says the Historian, was desirous to have a Son by Anchises, tho' he was then in his decrepid Age: Accordingly she had Aeneas. After this she sought occasion to ruin the Race of Priam; and set on foot the Intrigue of Alexander, (or Paris) with Helena: She being ravish'd, Venus pretended still to favour the Trojans; lest they should restore Helen, in case they should be reduc'd to the last Necessity. Whence it appears, that the Controversie betwixt Juno and Venus, was on no trivial account; but concern'd the Succession to a great Empire.
Aeneid the 4th. Li. 945.
This is certainly the Sense of Virgil; on which I have paraphras'd, to make it plain. His Words are these; Moriemur Inultae?
Servius makes an Interrogation at the Word sic; thus, sic? Sic juvat ire sub Ʋmbras Which Mr. Cowley justly Censures: But his own judgment may perhaps be question'd: For he wou'd retrench the latter part of the Verse, and leave it a Hemystic. Sed Moriamur ait. That Virgil never intended to have left any Hemystic, I have prov'd already in the Preface. That this Verse was fill'd up by him, with these words, sic, juvat ire sub Ʋmbras, is very probable; if we consider the weight of them. For this procedure of Dido, does not only contain, that, dira Execratio, quae nullo expiatur Carmine (as Horace observes in his Canidia) but besides that, Virgil, who is full of Allusions to History, under another Name, describes the Decii, devoting themselves to Death this way, though in a better Cause, in order to the Destruction of the Enemy. The Reader, who will take the pains to Consult Livy, in his accurate [Page 630] Description of those Decii, thus devoting themselves, will find a great resemblance betwixt these two Passages. And 'tis judiciously observ'd upon that Verse, ‘—Nulla fides populis nec foedera sunto.’ That Virgil uses in the word sunto a verbum juris, a form of speaking on Solemn and Religious Occasions: Livy does the like. Note also that Dido puts her self into the Habitus Gabinus, which was the girding her self round with one Sleeve of her Vest, which is also according to the Roman Pontifical, in this dreadful Ceremony, as Livy has observ'd: which is a farther confirmation of this Conjecture. So that upon the whole matter, Dido only doubts whether she shou'd die before she had taken her Revenge, which she rather wish'd: But considering that this devoting her self was the most certain and infallible way of compassing her Vengeance, she thus exclaims;
Which Translation I take to be according to the Sense of Virgil. I should have added a Note on that former Verse.
Which in the Edition of Heinsius is thus Printed. Nunc te facta impia tangunt? The word facta instead of fata, is reasonably alter'd. For Virgil says afterwards, she dy'd not by Fate, nor by any deserv'd Death. Nec Fato, meritâ nec morte peribat, &c. When I Translated that Passage, I doubted of the Sense: And therefore omitted that Hemystic; Nunc te fata impia tangunt. But Heinsius is mistaken only in making an Interrogation point, instead of a Period. The words facta impia, I suppose are genuine: For she had perjur'd her self in her second Marriage. Having firmly resolv'd, as she told her Sister, in the beginning of this Aeneid, never to love again, after the Death of her first Husband; and had confirm'd this Resolution, by a Curse on her self, if she shou'd alter it.
Aeneid the 5th. A great part of this Book is borrow'd from Apollonius Rhodius. And the Reader may observe the great Judgment and distinction of our Author in what he borrows from the Ancients, by comparing them. I conceive the Reason why he omits the Horse-race in the Funeral Games, was because he shews Ascanius afterwards on Horseback, with his Troops of Boys, and would not wear that Subject thread-bare; which Statius, in the next Age describ'd so happily. Virgil seems to me, to have excell'd Homer in all those Sports, and to [Page 631] have labour'd them the more, in Honour of Octavius, his Patron; who instituted the like Games for perpetuating the Memory of his Uncle Julius. Piety, as Virgil calls it, or dutifulness to Parents, being a most popular Vertue among the Romans.
Aeneid the 6th. Line 586.
This was taken, amongst many other things, from the Tenth Book of Plato de Republicâ: No Commentator besides Fabrini, has taken notice of it. Self-Murther was accounted a great Crime by that Divine Philosopher: But the Instances which he brings, are too many to be inserted in these short Notes. Sir Robert Howard in his Translation of this Aeneid, which was Printed with his Poems in the Year 1660; has given us the most Learned, and the most Judicious Observations on this Book, which are extant in our Language.
Line 734.
These two Verses in English seem very different from the Latine. ‘Discedam; explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris.’
Yet they are the Sense of Virgil; at least, according to the common Interpretation of this place: I will withdraw from your Company; retire to the Shades, and perform my Penance of a Thousand Years. But I must confess the Interpretation of those two words, explebo numerum is somewhat Violent, if it be thus understood, minuam numerum; that is, I will lessen your Company by my departure. For Deiphobus being a Ghost, can hardly be said to be of their Number. Perhaps the Poet means by explebo numerum, absolvam sententiam: As if Deiphobus reply'd to the Sibil, who was angry at his long Visit: I will only take my last leave of Aeneas, my Kinsman and my Friend, with one hearty good-wish for his Health and Well-fare, and then leave you to prosecute your Voyage. That Wish is express'd in the words immediately following. I Decus, I nostrum, &c. Which contain a direct Answer to what the Sibill said before: When she upbraided their long Discourse, Nos flendo ducimus horas. This Conjecture is new, and therefore left to the discretion of the Reader.
L. 981.
Here the Sun is not express'd, but the Moon only; though a less, and also a less radiant Light. Perhaps the Copies of Virgil are all false; and that instead of Titaniaque Astra, he writ Titanaque & Astra; and according [Page 632] to those words I have made my Translation. 'Tis most certain, that the Sun ought not to be omitted; for he is frequently call'd the Life and Soul of all the World: And nothing bids so fair for a visible Divinity to those who know no better, than that glorious Luminary. The Platonists call God the Archetypall Sun, and the Sun the visible Deity, the inward vital Spirit in the Center of the Universe, or that Body to which that Spirit is united, and by which-it exerts it self most powerfully. Now it was the receiv'd Hypothesis amongst the Pythagoreans, that the Sun was scituate in the Center of the World: Plato had it from them, and was himself of the same Opinion; as appears by a passage in the Timaeus: From which Noble Dialogue is this part of Virgil's Poem taken.
L. 1157.
There is no Question but Virgil here means Cato Major, or the Censor. But the Name of Cato being also mention'd in the Eighth Aeneid, I doubt whether he means the same Man in both places. I have said in the Preface, that our Poet was of Republican Principles; and have given this for one Reason of my Opinion, that he prais'd Cato in that Line, ‘Secretisque piis, his dantem jura Catonem.’ And accordingly plac'd him in the Elysian Fields. Montaign thinks this was Cato the Ʋtican, the great Enemy of Arbitrary Power, and a profess'd Foe to Julius Caesar. Ruaeus wou'd perswade us that Virgil meant the Censor. But why shou'd the Poet name Cato twice, if he intended the same person? Our Author is too frugal of his Words and Sense, to commit Tautologies in either. His Memory was not likely to betray him into such an Errour. Nevertheless I continue in the same Opinion, concerning the Principles of our Poet. He declares them sufficiently in this Book: Where he praises the first Brutus for expelling the Tarquins, giving Liberty to Rome, and putting to Death his own Children, who conspir'd to restore Tyranny: He calls him only an unhappy Man, for being forc'd to that severe Action.
Let the Reader weigh these two Verses, and he must be convinc'd that I am in the right: And that I have not much injur'd my Master in my Translation of them.
Line 1140.
This Note, which is out of its proper place, I deferr'd on purpose, to place it here: Because it discovers the Principles of our Poet more plainly than any of the rest.
Anchises here speaks to Julius Caesar; And commands him first to lay down Arms; which is a plain condemnation of his Cause. Yet observe our Poet's incomparable Address: For though he shews himself sufficiently to be a Common-wealth's-man; yet in respect to Augustus, who was his Patron, he uses the Authority of a Parent, in the Person of Anchises; who had more right to lay this Injunction on Caesar than on Pompey; because the latter was not of his Blood. Thus our Author cautiously veils his own opinion, and takes Sanctuary under Anchises; as if that Ghost wou'd have laid the same Command on Pompey also, had he been lineally descended from him. What cou'd be more judiciously contriv'd, when this was the Aeneid which he chose to read before his Master?
Line 1222.
How unpoetically and baldly had this been translated; Thou shalt Marcellus be! Yet some of my Friends were of Opinion, that I mistook the Sense of Virgil in my Translation. The French Interpreter, observes nothing on this place; but that it appears by it, the Mourning of Octavia was yet fresh, for the loss of her Son Marcellus, whom she had by her first Husband: And who dyed in the Year aburbe conditâ, 731. And collects from thence that Virgil, reading this Aeneid before her, in the same Year, had just finish'd it: That from this time to that of the Poet's Death, was little more than four Years. So that supposing him to have written the whole Aeneis in eleven Years; the first six Books must have taken up seven of those Years: On which Account the six last, must of necessity be less correct.
Now for the false judgment of my Friends, there is but this little to be said for them; the words of Virgil, in the Verse preceding are these, ‘—Siqua fata aspera rumpas.’ As if the Poet had meant, if you break through your hard Destiny, so as to be born, you shall be call'd Marcellus: But this cannot be the Sense: for though Marcellus was born, yet he broke not through those hard Decrees, which doom'd him to so immature a death. Much less can Virgil mean, you shall be the same Marcellus by the Transmigration of his Soul. For according to the System of our Author, a Thousand Years must be first elaps'd, before the Soul can return into a Humane Body; but the first Marcellus was slain in the second Punick War. And how many hundred Years were yet wanting, to the accomplishing his penance, may with ease be gather'd, by computing the time betwixt Scipio and Augustus. By which 'tis plain, that Virgil cannot mean the same Marcellus; but one of his Descendants; whom I call a new Marcellus; who so much resembled his Ancestor, perhaps in his Features, and his Person, but certainly in his Military Vertues, that Virgil cries out, quantum instar in ipso est! which I have translated, ‘[Page 634] How like the former, and almost the same.’
Line, 1236, and 1237.
By the carelessness of the Amanuensis, the two next Lines are wanting, which I thus supply out of the Original Copy.
Virgil borrow'd this Imagination from Homer, Odysses the 19th. Line 562. The Translation gives the reason, why true Prophetic Dreams are said to pass through the Gate of Horn, by adding the Epithete transparent: Which is not in Virgil; whose Words are only these;
What is pervious to the Sight is clear; and (alluding to this Property,) the Poet infers such Dreams are of Divine Revelation. Such as pass through the Iv'ry Gate, are of the contrary Nature; polish'd Lies. But there is a better Reason to be giv'n: For the Iv'ry alludes to the Teeth, the Horn to the Eyes. What we see is more credible, than what we only hear; that is, Words that pass through the Portal of the Mouth, or, Hedge of the Teeth: (which is Homer's expression for speaking.)
Aen. the 7th. Li. 109.
Virgil, in this place, takes notice of a great Secret in the Roman Divination: The Lambent Fires, which rose above the Head, or play'd about it, were Signs of Prosperity, such were those which he observ'd in the second Aeneid: which were seen mounting from the Crown of Ascanius,
Smoky Flames, (or involv'd in Smoke) were of a mix'd Omen; such were those which are here describ'd: For Smoke signifies Tears, because it produces them, and Flames Happiness. And therefore Virgil says that this Ostent was not only mirabile visu, but horrendum.
Line 367.
This has seem'd to some an odd Passage: That a King shou'd offer his Daughter and Heir, to a Stranger Prince, and a wanderer, before he had seen him, and when he had only heard of his arrival on his Coasts: But these Criticks have not well consider'd the Simplicity of former times; when the Heroines almost courted the Marriage of illustrious Men. Yet Virgil here observes the rule of Decency; Lavinia offers not her self: 'Tis Latinus, who propounds the Match: And he had been [Page 635] foretold, both by an Augur, and an Oracle, that he should have a foreign Son-in-Law; who was also a Heroe. Fathers, in those ancient Ages, considering Birth and Vertue, more than Fortune, in the placing of their Daughters. Which I cou'd prove by various Examamples: The contrary of which being now practis'd, I dare not say in our Nation, but in France, has not a little darken'd the Lustre of their Nobility. That Lavinia was averse to this Marriage, and for what reason, I shall prove in its proper place.
L. 1020. And where Abella sees, from her high Tow'rs, the Harvest of her Trees. I observe that Virgil names not Nola, which was not far distant from Abella: perhaps, because that City, (the same in which Augustus dyed afterwards;) had once refus'd to give him entertainment; if if we may believe the Author of his Life. Homer heartily curses another City which had us'd him on the same manner: But our Author thought his Silence of the Nolans a sufficient correction. When a Poet passes by a Place or Person, though a fair Occasion offers of rememb'ring them, 'tis a sign he is, or thinks himself, much disoblig'd.
Aen. 8. L. 34.
This Similitude is literally taken from Apollonius Rhodius; and 'tis hard to say, whether the Original or the Translation excels. But in the Shield which he describes afterwards in this Aeneid, he as much transcends his Master Homer; as the Arms of Glaucus were richer than those of Diomedes. [...].
Lines 115, and 116.
The Translation is infinitely short of Virgil, whose Words are these;
For I cou'd not turn the word Enim into English with any grace. Though it was of such necessity, in the Roman Rites, that a Sacrifice could not be perform'd without it; 'tis of the same nature, (if I may presume to name that sacred Mystery) in our words of Consecration at the Altar.
Aeneid the 9th. line 853, 854.
The first of these Lines, is all of Monosyllables; and both Verses are very rough: But of choice; for it had been easie for me to have smooth'd them. But either my Ear deceives me, or they express the thing which I intended in their Sound: For the stress of a Bow which is drawn to the full extent, is express'd in the harshness of the first Verse, clogg'd not only with Monosyllables, but with Consonants; and these words, the tough Eugh, which conclude the second line, seem as forceful, as they are Unharmonious. Homer and Virgil are both frequent in their adapting [Page 636] Sounds to the thing they signifie. One Example will serve for both; because Virgil borrow'd the following Verses from Homer's Odysses.
Our Language is not often capable of these Beauties: though sometimes I have copied them, of which these Verses are an instance.
Line 1095.
When I read this Aeneid to many of my Friends, in company together, most of them quarrel'd at the word falsify'd, as an Innovation in our Language. The fact is confess'd; for I remember not to have read it in any English Author; though perhaps it may be found in Spencer's Fairy Queen: But suppose it be not there: Why am I forbidden to borrow from the Italian, (a polish'd Language) the word which is wanting in my Native Tongue? Terence has often Grecis'd: Lucretius has follow'd his Example; and pleaded for it; sic quia me cogit patrii Sermonis Egestas. Virgil has confirm'd it by his frequent practice, and even Cicero in Prose, wanting terms of Philosophy in the Latin Tongue, has taken them from Aristotle's Greek. Horace has given us a Rule for Coining Words, si Graeco fonte cadunt. Especially when other words are join'd with them, which explain the Sense. I use the word falsifie in this place, to mean that the Shield of Turnus was not of Proof against the Spears and Javlins of the Trojans; which had pierc'd it through and through (as we say) in many places. The words which accompany this new one, make my meaning plain; according to the Precept which Horace gave. But I said I borrow'd the Word from the Italian: Vide Ariosto, Cant. 26.
Falsar cannot otherwise be turn'd, than by falsify'd; for his shield was falsed, is not English. I might indeed have contented my self with saying his Shield was pierc'd, and board, and stuck with Javelins; Nec sufficit Ʋmbo Ictibus. They who will not admit a new word, may take the old; the matter is not worth dispute.
Aeneid the 10th. A Choir of Nereids, &c. These were transform'd from Ships to Sea-Nymphs: This is almost as violent a Machine, as the death of Aruns by a Goddess in the Episode of Camilla. But the Poet makes use of it with greater Art: For here it carries on the main Design. These new made Divinities, not only tell Aeneas what had pass'd in his Camp during his absence; and what was the present Distress of his Besieg'd People; and that his Horse-men whom he had sent by Land, were ready to join him at his Descent; but warn him to provide for Battel the next day, and fore-tell him good success: So that this Episodical Machine is properly a part of the great Poem; For besides what I have said, they push on his Navy with Celestial Vigour, [Page 637] that it might reach the Port more speedily, and take the Enemy more unprovided to resist the Landing. Whereas the Machine relating to Camilla, is only Ornamental: For it has no effect, which I can find, but to please the Reader, who is concern'd, that her Death shou'd be reveng'd.
Lines 241, 243.
The Poet here begins to tell the Names of the Tuscan Captains who follow'd Aeneas to the War: And I observe him to be very particular in the description of their Persons, and not forgetful of their Manners: Exact also, in the Relation of the Numbers which each of them Command. I doubt not but as in the fifth Book, he gave us the Names of the Champions, who contended for the several Prizes, that he might oblige many of the most Ancient Roman Families, their Descendants; and as in the 7th Book, he Muster'd the Auxiliary Forces of the Latins, on the same Account; so here he gratifies his Tuscan Friends, with the like remembrance of their Ancestors; and above the rest, Mecaenas his great Patron: Who being of a Royal Family in Etruria, was probably represented under one of the Names here mention'd, then known among the Romans, though at so great a distance, unknown to us. And for his sake chiefly, as I guess, he makes Aeneas (by whom he always means Augustus) to seek for Aid in the Country of Mecaenas, thereby to indear his Protector to his Emperour; as if there had been a former Friendship betwixt their Lines. And who knows, but Mecaenas might pretend that the Cilnian Family was deriv'd from Tarchon, the Chief Commander of the Tuscans.
Line 662.
I have mention'd this Passage in my Preface to the Aeneis; to prove, that Fate was superiour to the Gods; and that Jove cou'd neither defer nor alter its Decrees. Sir Robert Howard has since, been pleas'd to send me the concurrent Testimony of Ovid; 'tis in the last Book of his Metamorphoses; where Venus complains, that her Descendant, Julius Caesar, was in danger of being Murther'd by Brutus and Cassius, at the head of the Commonwealth-Faction, and desires them to prevent that Barbarous Assassination. They are mov'd to Compassion; they are concern'd for Caesar; but the Poet plainly tells us, that it was not in their power to change Destiny: All they cou'd do, was to testifie their sorrow for his approaching Death, by fore-shewing it with Signs and Prodigies, as appears by the following Lines.
Then she Addresses to her Father Jupiter, hoping Aid from him, because he was thought Omnipotent. But he, it seems, cou'd do as little as the rest, for he answers thus.
Jupiter you see is only Library-Keeper, or Custos Rotulorum to the Fates: For he offers his Daughter a Cast of his Office, to give her a Sight of their Decrees; which the inferiour Gods were not permitted to read without his leave. This agrees with what I have said already in the Preface; that they not having seen the Records, might believe they were his own Hand-writing; and consequently at his disposing either to blott out, or alter, as he saw convenient. And of this Opinion was Juno in those words, tua qui potes orsa reflectas. Now the abode of those Destinies being in Hell, we cannot wonder why the Swearing by Styx, was an inviolable Oath amongst the Gods of Heaven, and that Jupiter himself should fear to be accus'd of Forgery by the Fates, if he alter'd any thing in their Decrees. Chaos, Night, and Erebus, being the most Antient of the Deities, and instituting those fundamental Laws, by which he was afterwards to govern. Hesiod gives us the Genealogy of the Gods, and I think I may safely infer the rest. I will only add, that Homer was more a Fatalist than Virgil: For it has been observ'd, that the word [...], or Fortune, is not to be found in his two Poems; but instead of it, always [...].
Aeneid the 12. lines 888, and 889.
The Poet had said, in the preceding lines, that Mnestheus, Seresthus, and Asylas, led on the Trojans, the Tuscans, and the Arcadians: But none of the Printed Copies, which I have seen, mention any Leader of the Rutulians and Latins, but Messapus the Son of Neptune. Ruaeus takes notice of this passage, and seems to wonder at it; but gives no Reason, why Messapus is alone without a Coadjutor.
The four Verses of Virgil run thus.
I doubt not but the third Line was Originally thus, ‘Et Messapus equum domitor, & fortis Atinas:’
For the two Names of Asylas and Atinas are so like, that one might easily be mistaken for the other by the Transcribers. And to fortify this Opinion, we find afterward, in the relation of Sages to Turnus, that Atinas is join'd with Messapus.
[Page 639] In general I observe, not only in this Aeneid, but in all thesixth last Books, that Aeneas is never seen on Horse-back, and but once before as I remember, in the Fourth when he Hunts with Dido. The Reason of this, if I guess aright, was a secret Compliment which the Poet made to his Country-men the Romans; the strength of whose Armies consisted most in Foot; which, I think, were all Romans and Italians. But their Wings or Squadrons, were made up of their Allies, who were Foreigners.
Aeneid the 12. Lines 100, 101, 102.
Amata, ever partial to the Cause of Turnus, had just before desir'd him, with all manner of earnestness, not to ingage his Rival in single Fight; which was his present Resolution. Virgil, though in favour of his Heroe, he never tells us directly, that Lavinia preferr'd Turnus to Aeneas, yet has insinuated this preference twice before. For mark in the 7th Aeneid, she left her Father, who had promis'd her to Aeneas without asking her consent: And follow'd her Mother into the Woods, with a Troop of Bacchanals, where Amata sung the Marriage Song, in the Name of Turnus; which if she had dislik'd, she might have oppos'd. Then in the 11th. Aeneid, when her Mother went to the Temple of Pallas, to invoke her Aid against Aeneas; whom she calls by no better Name than Phrygius Praedo, Lavinia sits by her in the same Chair or Litter, juxtaque Comes Lavinia Virgo,—Oculos dejecta decoros. What greater sign of Love, than Fear and Concernment for the Lover? In the lines which I have quoted she not only sheds Tears but changes Colour. She had been bred up with Turnus, and Aeneas was wholly a Stranger to her. Turnus in probability was her first Love; and favour'd by her Mother, who had the Ascendant over her Father. But I am much deceiv'd, if (besides what I have said) there be not a secret Satire against the Sex, which is lurking under this Description of Virgil, who seldom speaks well of Women: Better indeed of Camilla, than any other; for he commends her Beauty and Valour: Because he wou'd concern the Reader for her Death. But Valour is no very proper Praise for Womankind; and Beauty is common to the Sex. He says also somewhat of Andromache, but transiently: And his Venus is a better Mother than a Wife, for she owns to Vulcan she had a Son by another Man. The rest are Juno's, Diana's, Dido's, Amata's, two mad Prophetesses, three Harpies on Earth, and as many Furies under ground. This Fable of Lavinia includes a secret Moral; that Women in their choice of Husbands, prefer the younger of their Suitors to the Elder; are insensible of Merit, fond of Handsomness; and generally speaking, rather hurried away by their Appetite, than govern'd by their Reason.
L. 1191, & 1192.
The words in the Original are these, pro Latio obtestor, pro Majestate tuorum. Virgil very artfully uses here the word Majestas; which the Romans lov'd so well, that they appropriated it to themselves. Majestas [Page 640] Populi Ramani. this Title apply'd to Kings, is very Modern, and that is all I will say of it at present: Though the word requires a larger Note. In the word tuorum, is included the sense of my Translation, Your Father's Land: Because Saturn the Father of Jove, had govern'd that part of Italy, after his expulsion from Crete. But that on which I most insist, is the Address of the Poet, in this Speech of Juno. Virgil was sufficiently sensible, as I have said in the Preface, that whatever the common Opinion was, concerning the Descent of the Romans from the Trojans; yet the Ancient Customs, Rites, Laws, and Habits, of those Trojans were wholly lost, and perhaps also that they had never been: And for this Reason, he introduces Juno in this place; requesting of Jupiter, that no Memory might remain of Troy, (the Town she hated) that the People hereafter should not be called Trojans, nor retain any thing which belong'd to their Predecessors. And why might not this also be concerted betwixt our Author and his Friend Horace, to hinder Augustus from Re-building Troy, and removing thither the Seat of Empire, a design so unpleasing to the Romans? But of this, I am not positive, because I have not consulted d'Acier, and the rest of the Criticks, to ascertain the time in which Horace writ the Ode relating to that Subject.
L. 1224, & 1225.
The Father of these, (not here mention'd) was Acheron: the Names of the three, were Alecto, Maegera, and Tysiphone. They were call'd Furies in Hell, on Earth Harpies, and in Heaven Dirae: Two of these assisted at the Throne of Jupiter, and were employed by him, to punish the wickedness of Mankind. These two must be Megaera, and Tysiphone: Not Alecto: For Juno expresly commands her to return to Hell, from whence she came; and gives this Reason.
Probably this Dira, un-nam'd by the Poet in this Place; might be Tysiphone, for though we find her in Hell, in the sixth Aeneid, employ'd in the punishment of the damn'd, ‘Continuo sontes, Ʋltrix accincta flag ello Tisiphone quatit insultans, &c.’ Yet afterwards she is on Earth in the Tenth Aeneid, and amidst the Battel. Pallida Tisiphone media inter Millia saevit. Which I guess to be Tysiphone, the rather, by the Etimology of her Name; which is compounded of [...] ulciscor; and [...] caedes. Part of her Errand being to affright Turnus, with the Stings of a guilty Conscience; and denounce Vengeance against him for breaking the first Treaty, by refusing to yield Lavinia to Aeneas, to whom she was promis'd by her Father, and consequently, for being the Author of an unjust War; and also for violating the second Treaty, by declining the single combat, which he had stipulated with his Rival, and call'd the Gods to witness before their Altars. As for the Names of the Harpies, (so call'd on Earth) Hesiod tells us they were Iris, Aello, and Ocypete. Virgil calls one of them Celaeno: This I doubt not was Alecto; whom Virgil calls in the third Aeneid, Furiarum maxima: And in the sixth again, by the same Name—Furiarum maxima, juxta accubat. That she was the chief of the Furies, appears by her description in the seventh Aeneid: To which, for haste, I refer the Reader.