the ornaments from him. What I have borrowed will be so easily discerned from my mean productions, that I shall not need to point the reader to the places; and truly I should be sorry, for my own sake, that any one should take the pains to compare them together, the original being undoubtedly one of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems, which either this age or nation has produced. And though I could not refuse the partiality of my friend, who is pleased to commend 8 7 Mr. Aubrey, who was acquainted with Dryden, informs us in his Life of Milton, (which, together with his other curious accounts of English writers, I hope speedily to give the publick,) that our author, before he wrote this drama, waited on the blind bard, and asked his permission to put his great poem into rhyme. (said Milton,) you may tag my verses, if you will." "Ay, 8 Nat. Lee, who says, in the Verses which he addressed to our author on this occasion, your "To the dead bard fame a little owes, "For Milton did the wealthy mine disclose, "And rudely cast what you could well dispose: "He roughly drew on an old-fashion'd ground "A chaos; for no perfect world was found, "Till through the heap your mighty genius shin'd; "His was the golden ore, which you refin'd. "He first beheld the beauteous rustick maid, "And to a place of strength the prize convey'd; "You took her thence, to court the virgin brought, "Dress'd her with gems, new-weav'd her hard-spun thought, } "And softest language, sweetest manners, taught." Rymer went still farther than Lee, in his depreciation of Milton's great work. Towards the conclusion of his me in his verses, I hope they will rather be esteemed the effect of his love to me, than of his deliberate and sober judgment. His genius is able to make beautiful what he pleases; yet, as he has been too favourable to me, I doubt not but he will hear of his kindness from many of our contemporaries; for we are fallen into an age of illiterate, censorious, and detracting people, who, thus qualified, set up for criticks. In the first place, I must take leave to tell them, that they wholly mistake the nature of criticism, who think its business is principally to find fault. Criticism, as it was first instituted by Aristotle, was meant a standard of judging well; the chiefest part of which is, to observe those excellencies which should delight a reasonable reader. If the design, the conduct, the thoughts, and the expressions of a poem, be generally such as proceed from a true genius of poetry, the critick ought to pass his judgment in favour of the author. It is malicious and unmanly to snarl at the little lapses of a pen, from which Virgil himself stands not exempted. Horace acknowledges that honest Homer nods sometimes; he is not equally awake in every line; but he leaves it also as a standing measure for our judgments, Essay addressed to Fleetwood Shephard, in 1678, he says, "With the remaining tragedies I shall also send you some reflections on that PARADISE LOST of Milton's, which some are pleased to call a POEM." This promise, however, he did not fulfil. - non, ubi plura nitent in carmine, paucis And Longinus, who was undoubtedly, after Aristotle, the greatest critick among the Greeks, in his twenty-seventh chapter MEPI Tore, has judiciously preferred the sublime genius that sometimes errs, to the middling or indifferent one, which makes few faults, but seldom or never rises to any excellence. He compares the first to a man of large possessions, who has not leisure to consider of every slight expence, will not debase himself to the ma nagement of every trifle; particular sums are not laid out or spared to the greatest advantage in his economy, but are sometimes suffered to run to waste, while he is only careful of the main. On the other side, he likens the mediocrity of wit to one of a mean fortune, who manages his store with extreme frugality, or rather parsimony; but who, with fear of running into profuseness, never arrives to the magnificence of living. This kind of genius writes, indeed, correctly: a wary man he is in grammar; very nice as to solecism or barbarism; judges to a hair of little decencies; knows better than any man what is not to be written, and never hazards himself so far as to fall; but plods on deliberately, and, as a grave man ought, is sure to put his staff before him in short, he sets his heart upon it, and with wonderful care makes his business sure; that is, in plain English, neither to be blamed nor praised. I could, saith my author, : find out some blemishes in Homer; and am perhaps as naturally inclined to be disgusted at a fault as another man; but after all, to speak impartially, his failings are such as are only marks of human frailty; they are little mistakes, or rather negligences, which have escaped his pen in the fervour of his writing; the sublimity of his spirit carries it with me against his carelessness; and though Apollonius his Argonauts, and Theocritus his Idyllia, are more free from errours, there is not any man of so false a judgment who would choose rather to have been Apollonius or Theocritus than Homer. It is worth our consideration a little to examine how much these hypercriticks of English poetry differ from the opinion of the Greek and Latin judges of antiquity, from the Italians and French who have succeeded them, and indeed from the general taste and approbation of all ages. Heroick poetry, which they contemn, has ever been esteemed, and ever will be, the greatest work of human nature: in that rank has Aristotle placed it; and Longinus is so full of the like expressions, that he abundantly confirms the other's testimony. Horace as plainly delivers his opinion, and particularly praises Homer in these verses: Trojani belli scriptorem, maxime Lolli, Dum tu declamas Roma, Praneste relegi; Qui quid sit pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, Plenius ac melius Chrysippo et Crantore dicit. And in another place, modestly excluding himself from the number of poets, because he only writ odes and satires, he tells you a poet is such an one, cui mens divinior, atque os Magna soniturum. Quotations are superfluous in an established truth, otherwise I could reckon up amongst the moderns, all the Italian commentators on Aristotle's book of poetry; amongst the French, the greatest of this age, Boileau and Rapin; the latter of which is alone sufficient, were all other criticks lost, to teach anew the rules of writing. Any man who will seriously consider the nature of an epick poem, how it agrees with that of with that of poetry in general, which is to instruct and to delight, what actions it describes, and what persons they are chiefly whom it informs, will find it a work which indeed is full of difficulty in the attempt, but admirable when it is well performed. I write not this with the least intention to undervalue the other parts of poetry; for comedy is both excellently instructive, and extremely pleasant; satire lashes vice into reformation, and humour represents folly so as to render it ridiculous. Many of our present writers are eminent in both these kinds, and particularly the author of THE PLAIN DEALER," whom 9 Wycherley. "The chronology of Wycherley's plays (said Pope to Mr. Spence,) I am well acquainted with; for he has told it me over and over again. LOVE IN A WOOD |