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The Preface to the Aeneis of Virgil (1718)
اقرأ عينة مجانية

The Preface to the Aeneis of Virgil (1718)

بقلم Trapp Joseph

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INTRODUCTION
NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
THE PREFACE

The Augustan Reprint Society

JOSEPH TRAPP

THE

PREFACE

TO

T H E   Æ N E I S

OF

VIRGIL

(1718)


Introduction by
Malcolm Kelsall

Publication Numbers 214-215

WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY

University of California, Los Angeles

1982


GENERAL EDITOR

David Stuart Rodes, University of California, Los Angeles

EDITORS

Charles L. Batten, University of California, Los Angeles
George Robert Guffey, University of California, Los Angeles
Maximillian E. Novak, University of California, Los Angeles
Thomas Wright, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

ADVISORY EDITORS

Ralph Cohen, University of Virginia
William E. Conway, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
Vinton A. Dearing, University of California, Los Angeles
Arthur Friedman, University of Chicago
Louis A. Landa, Princeton University
Earl Miner, Princeton University
Samuel H. Monk, University of Minnesota
James Sutherland, University College, London
Robert Vosper, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

CORRESPONDING SECRETARY

Beverly J. Onley, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

Frances M. Reed, University of California, Los Angeles


INTRODUCTION

Joseph Trapp's translation of the Aeneid was first published in two volumes dated respectively 1718 and 1720. Its appearance coincided with his vacation of his chair as Professor of Poetry at the University of Oxford, an office which he was the first to hold and to which he had been elected in 1708.[1] The translation may be seen both as a valediction to the University by one whose subsequent career was to be made through the paths of clerical controversy and as a claim for the attention and patronage of the great world. The dedicatee was William, Lord North and Grey, and the list of subscribers is rich with the names of lords temporal and spiritual, including the Lord Primate of Ireland (Thomas Lindsay), who took four sets. Addison, Arbuthnot, Berkeley, Thomas Sheridan, Tickell, Swift, Young, and Thomas Warton (who succeeded Trapp as Professor of Poetry) also subscribed, but not Pope, whose views on Homer, Trapp criticised and misquoted. The University of Oxford was generous in its support (Cambridge was less so). We have, thus, in Trapp's Aeneid a translation of Virgil that was probably read by many of the important figures of the English Augustan cultural milieu. In turn, Trapp, writing with highest academic authority, offers in his Preface an important critical account of Virgil's epic.

Trapp's career was typical of his times, combining literary and critical activity with religious and political partisanship. He was born into a clerical family in 1679 (his father was rector of Cherrington, Gloucestershire) and after proceeding to New College School, Oxford, and Wadham College, he attracted the attention of the wits by a series of paraphrases, translations, complimentary effusions (including "Peace. A poem: inscribed to ... Viscount Bolingbroke, 1713"), and at least one successful tragedy, Abra-Mule; or Love and Empire (1704). In public affairs he was active in the defence of Henry Sacheverell, and his partisanship here must have cemented his relationship with Dr. William Lancaster, one of the bail for Sacheverell, who was Vice-Chancellor of Oxford at the time of Trapp's election to the chair of poetry. Less fortunate was Trapp's association with the dedicatee of the translation of the Aeneid, for Lord North and Grey, who was prominent in seeking to quash Sacheverell's impeachment (and became a privy-councillor in 1711), was committed to the Tower in 1722 for complicity in the Atterbury plot and ended his days a wanderer on the continent. That Atterbury himself was a subscriber to the Aeneid serves further to underline Trapp's Tory affiliations. The dedication by Trapp of his Oxford lectures on poetry (Praelectiones Poeticae, 1711-19)[2] to Bolingbroke appears to complete a fatal concatenation of literary and political association in the light of events after the death of Queen Anne.

Nonetheless, Trapp survived and prospered. Under the Tories he had been for a time chaplain to Sir Constantine Phipps, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, and shortly afterwards to Bolingbroke, who stood as godfather to Trapp's son Henry. During the Tory collapse, Peterborough presented him to the rectorship of Dauntsey in Wiltshire; Dr. Lancaster obtained for him the lectureship at St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Westminster; and in the 1730s Bolingbroke, restored, preferred him to the rectorship of Harlington, Middlesex. Other livings and the presidency of Sion College were to accrue for faithful service, as Trapp turned his pen to the defence of the established church: first against the Roman Catholics (for which, perhaps, the University of Oxford created him Doctor of Divinity in 1728) and later against the Methodists, especially in his discourses on The Nature, Folly, Sin, and Danger of being Righteous over much (1739).

Such engagements left him little time for literary creativity in the years before his death in 1747. However, Trapp finally finished his labors on Virgil by issuing a translation of the works (1731); and his poem Thoughts Upon the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, Hell (1734-35) shows him attempting to combine literary pleasure with theological instruction—a potent mixture forcibly administered to his parishoners, for it is recorded that he desired in his will that a copy be presented to each "housekeeper" among them. The Paradisus Amissus, Latine Redditus appeared in 1741-44. This translation of Milton into Latin is more than a freak

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of the neoclassical mind. It is the natural complement to his earlier translation of the Aeneid into Miltonic blank verse as well as his attempt to judge the classic sublime by the achievement of the masterwork of Christian epic, a task that had preoccupied him as Oxford's Professor of Poetry.

The importance of Trapp's Preface to his version of the Aeneid (and the extensive notes to the text) lies fundamentally in the fusion of Miltonic example with neoclassical precept in an attempt both to understand the Latin text rationally and to communicate the intensely exciting and moving experience that the Aeneid evokes. This was a new departure. French Aristotelian criticism of classical epic was (inevitably) not influenced by Milton. In the English tradition, neither Dryden in his Dedication of the Aeneid nor Pope in the prefatory material to the Iliad (with which Trapp frequently takes issue) used Paradise Lost as the basic touchstone of value. Trapp was to be sneered at in Delany's "News from Parnassus" for claiming in Pythagorean vein that the spirit of Milton had descended to him. This was unfair; he made no such claim. Trapp was trying to discover affinities between past and present in poetic sensibility and in the use of language. In doing so, he sought to place a major English poet in relation to Virgil, and he judged from this example that the English blank verse line had more of the grandeur of the Latin hexameter than the couplet in the hands even of Dryden or Pope. His taste told him that the imaginative invention and force of Milton had more of the Virgilian spirit than the elegant correctness of English Augustanism. He argues his position with vigor in the Preface and in his notes, and often with illustrative example.

The conventional view that Trapp wished to change by the interpolation of Milton was that, whereas Virgil merited the laurel for judgment and decorum, Homer possessed greater "fire," "sublimity," "fecundity," "majesty," and "vastness" (to use Trapp's terms). Homer was praised as the great original and inventor; Virgil followed in his steps with more refinement and rationality, showing everywhere that good sense and polished concision of expression characteristic of the Augustan age (so, for instance, René Rapin claimed in the well-known Comparaison).[3] One blossomed with the wild abundance and grandeur of nature; the other displayed that cultivated order shown in fields and gardens. Trapp accepts all that was granted to the Roman poet, but he claims for Virgil, Homeric qualities also: his borrowings are merely the basis for his invention (witness the tale of Dido); and as for the fire of sublimity, Trapp, like a critical Prometheus, filches that also. Among the many instances of the Virgilian fire given in the Preface, he cites "the Arrival of Aeneas with his Fleet and Forces" in the tenth book. His translation runs thus:

Amaz'd stood Turnus, and th' Ausonian Chiefs;
'Till, looking back, they saw the Navy move
Cov'ring the Sea, and gliding make to Shore.
Fierce burns his Helm; and from his tow'ring Crest
Flame flashes; and his Shield's round Bossy Gold
Vomits vast Fires: As when in gloomy Night
Ensanguin'd Comets shoot a dismal Glare;
Or the red Dog-Star, rising on the World,
To wretched Mortals threatens Dearth, and Plagues,
With Baleful Light; and saddens all the Sky.(360 ff.)

Trapp does not play the trite old game of setting the texts of Homer and Virgil in comparison, but what comes to his mind at once in his note, and rightly, given the language of his translation, is Milton describing Satan:

Like a Comet burn'd,
That fires the Length of Ophiucus huge
In th' Artick Sky; and from his horrid hair
Shakes Pestilence and War.(II. 708-711)

Similarly, when Aeneas hastens to meet Turnus in the twelfth book, Miltonic translation and Miltonic original are brought together to show the similarity between Virgilian and Christian sublime:

Aeneas ... with Joy
Exults; and thunders terrible in Arms.
As great as Athos, or as Eryx great,
Or Father Apennine, when crown'd with Okes
He waves the ruffled Forest on his Brow,
And rears his snowy Summit to the Clouds.(902 ff.)


On th' other Side Satan allarm'd
Collecting all his Might, dilated stood;
Like Teneriff, or Atlas unremov'd:
His Stature reach'd the Sky, and on his Crest
Sat Horrour plum'd.(IV. 985-989)

In the light of such illustration, it is not surprising that Trapp, in the Preface, when he wishes to give the feel of the Virgilian sublime, quotes Milton's description of the creation:

Let there be Light, said God; and forthwith Light
Ethereal, first of Things, Quintessence pure,
Sprang from the Deep.(p. xxx)

When he wants to show what grandeur with propriety the English language can achieve (even in the teeth of Dryden's rendering of Virgil, which he pertinently censures), he chooses his prime examples from Milton: witness the account of Satan "Hurl'd headlong, flaming from th' ethereal Sky...." It was a bold undertaking by Trapp, for Pope's version of Homer, elegantly correct in couplets, was in the press. Many a man was to suffer more in The Dunciad for less.[4]

Trapp's immediate critical associates in England clearly are John Dennis and Joseph Addison, and the origins of Trapp's thinking in classical antiquity may be found in Longinus. Dennis had united Milton with the poets of antiquity as an example of the passionate effects of the religious sublime,[5] while Addison (who had already translated a fragment of Aeneid III into blank verse) in his Spectator papers on Paradise Lost had tastefully combined the structural formalism of Aristotelian criticism of the epic with enthusiastic comment on the grandeur and beauty of Milton's verse. To these must be added Trapp's favorite, Roscommon, who in An Essay on Translated Verse (1685)[6] had interposed an imitation of Milton to illustrate how English verses might rise to Roman greatness. But it would be unfair to Trapp merely to reduce him to a series of component sources. He adopts and adapts; and as far as the

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criticism of Virgil was concerned, his Preface and his notes are a refreshing plea for something that he felt had not been sufficiently emphasized in the Aeneid: the ever-varying energetic passion that Longinian criticism had claimed was an essential quality of the greatest literary works. Trapp's choice of Miltonic example is only one means by which he emphasises that to truly respond to the Aeneid (as to any major poem) was to be ravished by an overwhelming emotive experience. "The Art, and Triumph of Poetry are in nothing more seen, and felt, than in Moving the Passions," he comments in his "Remarks" on the tragical action of the fourth book to which he prefaced "An Essay upon the Nature, and Art of Moving the Passions in Tragedy, and Epic Poetry" (I. 377). "A Man cannot command his own Motions, while he reads This; The very Verses are alive" (II. 942) is a typical comment from his "Remarks" (on breaking the truce in the twelfth book). He introduces the third book by citing Horace: the poet's art is like magic, transporting us now to Thebes, now to Athens (I. 365). Sometimes he throws up his hands in rapture at the je ne sais quoi: "Some Beauties are the more so, for not being capable of Explanation. I feel it, tho' I cannot account for it" (I. 339). It is to the text the Preface lays the foundation for this kind of response in its emphasis on the emotive range of Virgil—on his power to burn and to freeze, to raise admiration, terror, and pity. "The Greek Poet knew little of the Passions, in comparison of the Roman" his argument runs, setting Virgil on the peak of Parnassus.

This enthusiastic excitement is firmly controlled in the Preface by the disciplines of more formal criticism, and here, inevitably, Trapp follows the same kind of standard authorities as Dryden in his translation. It would be untypical of the man not to give positive guarantees of his learning and respectability. He shows that he had absorbed the arguments of René le Bossu's Traité du Poème Epique (1675) and knows Jean Regnauld de Segrais' translation of the Aeneid (1668). He was familiar with René Rapin's Réflexions sur la Poétique d'Aristote (1674) and André Dacier's La Poétique d'Aristote Traduite en Français. Avec des Remarques (1692). The name of J. C. Scaliger intrudes, if only to be mentioned with distaste; for the pedantic querulousness of Scaliger's extended comparison of Homer with Virgil attracted Trapp no more than it did Addison, both critics, in the English humanistic tradition, being more concerned with an appreciative and elegant brevity than with exhaustive scholarship. It was necessary also to show some knowledge of the quarrel of the ancients and moderns; but Trapp is concerned with the integrity of European culture, not with the inane counting of points for or against past or present and not at all with scoring off personal antagonists. In comparison, he makes Swift, who always sneered at him, and even Pope seem sometimes trivial and bitchy.

The restrained humanism of the Preface is noticeable. Thus, although the critical concerns of the age lead Trapp to seek to annex "clear Ideas" "to the Words, Action, Fable, Incident, and Episode," there is nothing in his writing resembling the prolegomena to the Aeneid in the Delphin edition,[7] prolegomena that define epic from the doctrine of Aristotle as the imitation of one action, illustrious, complete, of a certain magnitude, which by narration in hexameter verse raises eminent men to the prime virtues by delight and admiration, proceeds to define the actio, fabula, mores, sententia, and dictio in the abstract, and then demonstrates that the definitions fit the Aeneid (ergo it is an epic poem). This is scientific method ossified. On the other hand, if one compares Dryden's Dedication of the Aeneid, Trapp equally eschews the quirky digressiveness (and the wholesale borrowings), which give to Dryden's writing both its sense of personal and spontaneous insight and yet its prolixity and mere messiness. Trapp had studied the art to blot. The reader is spared Dryden's extended and pointless discussion (at second hand) of how long the action of the Aeneid takes, let alone whether this is the right length for an epic action or whether Aeneas was too lacrymose to be a hero (presumably Trapp thought that those who will believe that will believe anything). Likewise, Dryden's political insights, gathered as much from his own experience as from Roman history, are also swiftly passed by for more aesthetic concerns. Perhaps the view of Dryden (and Pope) that the Aeneid was a party piece like Absalom and Achitophel was unbalanced,[8] but Trapp might have reflected that, if any man knew about political poetry, it was John Dryden and that the Aeneid has a place in the history of the Roman civil wars. But the Oxford professor was more concerned with the sublime and beautiful.

As a critic of classical epic there can be little reasonable doubt that Trapp stands comparison with either Dryden or Pope, and the honesty and value of his critical endeavor are worth respect. He can be cool and analytical when dispassionate reason is required (witness his account of how in brevity and morality Virgil surpasses Homer); but he is in no sense tied by a rigidly formalistic approach, happy to praise even that "Variety" which "justifies the Breach of almost any Rule" (Preface p. xlvi), or the organic development of structure that seems to be "no Method at all" (II. 953). Essentially, behind this firm but flexible criticism, there is a compelling sense that to read a great poem is to submit to an overwhelming experience; and his criticism is always hastening to illustration, with the tacit appeal, "It is like this, isn't it?" What is particularly stimulating, whether one accepts the claim or not that Virgilian style and sensibility are reflected in Milton, is the continual illumination of the classics by the vernacular and particularly by modern example. It seems as if he is claiming that, to understand the past, we must respond to the literature of our own culture and that there are no important barriers between antiquity and the modern world, the appreciation of foreign languages and our own tongue. All true culture is always immediate and felt vitally as part of our being. In attempting to express this, Trapp is in touch with what is best in neoclassicism.

University of Reading.

NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION

[1] He had held the chair for the maximum period of ten years permitted by the original statute. For further particulars, see Thomas Hearne, Remarks and Collections, ed. C. E. Doble (Oxford, 1886), entries for 14 July and 27 July 1708.

[2] There is a translation by William Bowyer, assisted by William Clarke, entitled Lectures on Poetry (London, 1742).

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class="footnote">

[3] Comparaison des poèmes d'Homère et de Virgile (Paris, ?1688).

[4] He is identified by the Twickenham editor as the "T—" of the line "T—s and T—the church and state gave o'er," in The Dunciad of 1728 II. 381, but was dropped from the Variorum in 1729. In the Warburton note of 1743, I.33, he may be alluded to in the gibe at "Professors."

[5] Notably in The Advancement and Reformation of Modern Poetry (London, 1701) and The Grounds of Criticism in Poetry (London, 1704).

[6] The Miltonic passage was added to the second edition (1685). The poem originally appeared the previous year.

[7] Ed. Carolus Ruaeus, i.e. Charles de la Rue (Paris, 1675).

[8] I have further discussed this point in "What God, What Mortal? The Aeneid and English Mock-Heroic," Arion 8 (1969), 359-79.



BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

The Preface to Joseph Trapp's translation of The ÆNEIS of Virgil, Volume I (1718) is reproduced from a copy of the first edition in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *FPR3736/T715V3/1718). A typical type-page (p. vii) measures 231 x 156 mm.











THE PREFACE.

owever Poetry may have been dishonoured by the Follies of some, and the Vices of others; the Abuse, or Corruption of the best Things being always the worst: It will, notwithstanding, be ever regarded, as it ever has been, by the wisest, and most judicious of Men, as the very Flower of human Thinking, the most exquisite Spirit that can be extracted from the Wit and Learning of Mankind. But I shall not now enter into a formal Vindication of this Divine Art from the many groundless Aspersions which have been cast upon it by Ignorance, and Ill-nature; nor display either it's Dignity in it self, or it's Usefulness both in Philosophy, and Religion; or the delightful Elegancy of it's refined Ideas, and harmonious Expressions. This I have in some measure attempted in another[1] Treatise; to which I rather chuse to refer the Reader, than to repeat what I have already said, tho' in a different Language from This, in which I am now writing. I shall therefore only observe at present, that to hate, or despise Poetry, not only argues a Man deficient in Wisdom, and Learning; but even brings his Virtue and Goodness under Suspicion: What our Shakespear says of another melodious Science, being altogether as applicable to This; and Poetry it self being the Musick of Thoughts, and Words, as Musick is the Poetry of Sounds.

The Man that hath not Musick in his Soul,
And is not mov'd with Concord of sweet Sounds;
Is fit for Treasons, Stratagems, and Spoils;
The Motions of his Spirit are dull as Night,
And his Affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such Man be trusted.——[2]

And as Poetry was by the Heathen stiled the Language of the Gods; much the same may be said by a Christian of the one true Deity: Since a great part of the Holy Scriptures themselves is to the last degree Poetical, both in Sentiments, and Diction.

But among all the Species, or Kinds of Poetry; That which is distinguished by the Name of Epic, or Heroic, is beyond comparison the Noblest, and most Excellent. An Heroic Poem, truly such, is undoubtedly the greatest Work which the Soul of Man is capable to perform. These are the first Words of Mr. Dryden's admirable Dedication of his English Æneis to the present Duke of Buckingham: They are translated indeed from Monsieur Rapin; and are likewise the first Words of his Comparison between Homer and Virgil.[3] "The Design of it (continues Mr. Dryden) is to form the Mind to Heroic 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; that no others can be imagined 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 filled with Rubbish, which is of a perishable Kind, destructive of the Strength: But with Brick, or Stone, tho' of less pieces, yet of the same Nature, and fitted to the Cranies. Even the least Portions of them must be of the Epic kind; All Things must be Grave, Majestical, and Sublime: Nothing of a foreign Nature, like the trifling Novels, which Ariosto,[4] and others have inserted in their Poems. By which the Reader is misled into another sort of Pleasure, opposite to That which is designed in an Epic Poem. One raises the Soul, and hardens it to Virtue; the other softens it again, and unbends it into Vice." But what makes this Kind of Poem

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preferable to all others, is, that it virtually contains and involves them: I mean their Excellencies and Perfections, besides That which is proper, and peculiar to it self. This likewise is observed by Mr. Rapin in the place above-cited: And by this Assertion I do not contradict what I have cited from Mr. Dryden; which I am supposed to approve, while I transcribe it. For besides that he does not speak, as I do, of the different Turns, and Modifications of Thinking, and Writing, but of trifling Episodes, or Under-Actions, which he says are improper for this sort of Poetry, and in which I entirely agree with him; I say, besides This, I do not affirm that an Ode, or an Elegy, for example, can with propriety be actually, and formally inserted in an Heroic Poem; But only that the regular Luxuriancy, and noble Excursions of That, and the pathetical and tender Complainings of This, are not always forreign to the Nature of an Epic Subject, but are sometimes very properly introduced to adorn it. The same may be said of the Poignancy of Satyr; and the natural Images of ordinary Life in Comedy. It is one Thing to say, that an Heroic Poem virtually includes These; and another, that it actually puts them into Practice, or shews them at large in their proper Forms, and Dresses. I do not mention Tragedy; because That is so nearly ally'd to Heroic Poetry, that there is no Dispute or Question concerning it. An Epic Poem then is the same to all the other Kinds of Poetry, as the Primum Mobile is to the System of the Universe, according to the Scheme of the ancient Astronomy: That great Orb including all the heavenly Bodies in it's Circumference, and whirling them round with it's own Motion. And then the Soul of the Poet, or rather of Poetry, informing this mighty, and regular Machine, and diffusing Life and Spirit thro' the whole Frame, resembles that Anima Mundi, that Soul of the World, according to the Platonic, and Pythagorean Philosophy, thus admirably represented in the Sixth Æneid:

Principio cœlum, ac terras, camposque liquentes,
Lucentemque globum Lunæ, Titaniaque astra
Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus
Mens agitat molem, & magno se corpore miscet.

Here we have at once the Soul of Poetry, and the Soul of the World: The one exerted, while the other is described. Whether there be any such Thing as the Last or not, we certainly perceive the First; and however That be, Nothing, in reality, can give us a justly resembling Idea of the Fabrick of an Heroic Poem; but That, which alone is superiour to it, the Fabrick of the Universe.

I speak of an Heroic Poem, properly so called; for I know of but Three, or Four, which deserve the Glory of That Title. And it's transcendent Excellence is doubtless the Reason, why so few have attempted a Work of this Nature; and fewer have succeeded in such their Attempts. Homer arose like Light at the Creation; and shone upon the World, which (at least so far as we know) was, with respect to that kind of Light, in total Darkness, before his Appearing. Such was the Fire, and Vivacity of his Spirit; the Vastness, and Fecundity of his Invention; the Majesty, and Sublimity of his Thoughts, and Expressions; that, notwithstanding his Errours and Defects, which must be acknowledged, his controuling, and over-bearing Genius demanded those prodigious Honours, which in all Ages have been justly paid him. I say, notwithstanding his Errours and Defects: for it would have been strange indeed, had he been chargeable with None; or had he left no room to be refined, and improved upon by any Successour.

This was abundantly performed by Virgil; whose Æneis is therefore only not perfect, because it did not receive his last Hand. Tho', even as it now is, it comes the nearest to Perfection of any Heroic Poem; and indeed of any Poem whatsoever, except another of his Own: I mean his Georgicks; which I look upon to be the most Consummate of all human Compositions: It's Author for Genius and Judgment, for Nature and Art, joined together, and taken one with another, being the greatest, and best of all human Writers. How little Truth soever there may be in the Prodigies which are said to have attended his Birth; certain it is, that a Prodigy was then born; for He himself was such: And when God made That Man, He seems to have design'd to shew the World how far the Powers of mere human Nature can go, and how much they are capable of performing. The Bent of his Mind was turned to Thought, and Learning in general; and to Poetry, and Philosophy in particular. Which we are assured of not only from the Spirit and Genius of his Works; but from the express Account which he gives of himself, in Those sweet Lines of the second Georgick:

Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musæ
(Quarum sacra fero, ingenti perculsus amore)
Accipiant, cœlique vias, & sydera monstrent.
Defectus solis varios, lunæque labores;
Unde tremor Terris, quâ vi maria alta tumescant
Objicibus ruptis, rursusque in seipsa residant.
Quid tantum oceano properent se tingere soles
Hyberni, vel quæ tardis mora noctibus obstet.

It is true, he here only tells us of his Inclination to Natural Philosophy; but then he tells it us in Poetry: As few Things are more nearly related.

For his Temper, and Constitution; if We will believe Mr. Dryden,[5] it was Phlegmatick, and Melancholick: As Homer's was Sanguine, and Cholerick, and This, he says, is the Reason of the different Spirit, which appears in the Writings of those two great Authors. I make no doubt, but that Virgil, in his natural Disposition, as a Man, was rather Melancholick; as, I believe, most learned, and contemplative Men ever were, and ever will be. And therefore how does he breath the very Soul of a Poet, and of a Philosopher; when in the Verses immediately following Those above-cited, he thus expresses the Thoughtfulness of both those Tempers, as well as the peculiar Modesty of his Own!

Sin has nè possim naturæ accedere partes
Frigidus obstiterit circum præcordia sanguis;
Rura mihi, & rigui placeant in vallibus amnes,
Flumina amem, silvasque inglorius.——

Methinks, I see him, while I read Those Verses; I am sure I feel him. How delightful must it be, to enjoy so sweet a Retirement! What a Glory, to be so inglorious! This, I say, is generally the Natural Make of learned, and ingenious Men; and Homer himself, notwithstanding his Poetical Fire, was in all probability of the same Complexion. But if we consider Virgil as a Poet; I hope to make it appear, before I have finished This Preface, that, as such, he wanted neither the Sanguine, nor the Cholerick; tho' at the same time I acknowledge a Man's natural Temper will very much incline him to one way of Thinking, and Writing, more than to another.

But tho' his Genius was thus perfect; yet I take his most distinguishing Character to be the incomparable Accuracy of his Judgment; and particularly his elegant, and exquisite Brevity. He is never

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luxuriant, never says any thing in vain: We admire Others (says Monsieur Rapin) for what they say; but we admire Virgil, for what he does not say: And indeed his very Silence is expressive, and even his Omissions are Beauties. Yet is his Brevity neither dry, nor obscure; so far otherwise, that he is both the fullest, and the clearest Writer in the World. He always, says enough, but never too much: And This is to be observed in him, as well when he insists upon a Thing, as when he slightly passes it over, when his Stile is long, and flowing, as when it is short, and concise; in This Sense, he is brief, even where he enlarges; and while he rolls like a Torrent, he has nothing frothy, or redundant. So that to Him, of all Mankind, are Those famous Verses of Sir John Denham most particularly applicable:

Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;
Strong, without Rage; without O'erflowing, full.

Meaning Rage properly so called; not the Poetical Fury: For That He was very far from wanting; as will be seen in it's proper Place. His avoiding Redundancy therefore proceeded neither from Poverty, nor Parsimony; but from Elegancy, and Exactness. So correct is he in Those Parts of his Writings which are allowed to be finished; that I have often thought what a Treasure That Man would be possessed of (were such a Thing possible) who could procure the Filings of his Poems; and shew the World what Virgil would not shew it. The very Chippings of Those Diamonds would be more valuable than the richest Jewel of the Indies.

I have already said enough to involve my self in the now unavoidable Comparison between Homer, and Virgil; which has so much employ'd the Speculations of the Learned. Because it will be justly expected that I should endeavour at least to give some Reasons for my Assertions; or rather for my Opinion: For I desire that my Assertions may all along be understood to imply no more. As to Homer, nothing can be farther from my Thoughts than to defraud that prodigious Man of his due Praise. I have before said a little of it; and (would the Limits of this Discourse permit) could with Pleasure enlarge upon that Subject. Many of his Faults, as they are called, are indeed no Faults; but only charged upon him by ignorant Pretenders to Criticism: Others, if they are really so, are not His, but are entirely to be imputed to the Manners and Customs of the Age in which he writ: And even those which are least justifiable are to be excused upon this single Consideration, that he was the first of his Species. No Science starts into Perfection at it's Birth: And it is amazing that the Works of this great Poet come so near it as they do. Thus as to himself: Then as to others; his Glory in Point of Precedency is uncontestable; he is the Father of Poets, and of Poetry; and Virgil particularly has copy'd from him in a multitude of Instances. But after all, the Question is; Whether upon the whole, Homer's or Virgil's be the best Poems, as we have them now; setting aside all external Considerations, relating to Times, and Customs; Inventing, and Borrowing; Precedency, and Succession; Master, and Scholar; and regarding only the internal Advantages, and Disadvantages, Beauties, and Faults of both; upon the Foundations of Nature, and Art, of Truth, and Reason. Homer's Faults are to be excused: I am very glad of it; for I have an exceeding Honour, and Love for him. But still They are Faults: Has Virgil so many? I mean too in Proportion, and allowing for the unequal Length of their Writings. Virgil imitated Homer, and borrowed from him: But did he not improve, as well as imitate; and by borrowing, and adding to his own vast Fund what the other never parted with, grow richer than him from whom he so borrowed? In a word, did he not out of two very good Poems make a better than either of them, or than both of them put together? I am sensible it may be said on the other hand, that Homer had the Disadvantage, as well as Glory of being the First: He had no body to rely upon, but himself; whereas Virgil had Homer's Materials, besides his own. All this I acknowledge; nay at present, and for Argument's sake, let Homer's be the greater Glory: Still is not Virgil's the best Poem? For I agree that in these Comparisons we ought to make a Distinction between the Man, and the Work. Or if we must make the Comparison in the former respect; Homer was Virgil's Master, Father, what you please: But nothing is more common, than for the Scholar to excel the Master, and the Son the Father. I think we ought to lay aside the Prejudices of an undue Veneration for the greatest Antiquity, and argue only from Reason; and that not only in the Comparison of the Ancients with one another; but even in That of the Ancients with the Moderns. I have a very great Honour for the Greeks and Romans; but 'tis because their Writings are generally good, not because they are ancient: And when we think they are otherwise than good, I cannot imagine why we should not say so; provided it be with Modesty, and with a due Deference to the Opinions of Those who differ from us, whether they be dead or living. The famous Dispute about Ancient and Modern Learning would, I believe, be soon determined; were it not for unreasonable Prejudices to each of Those Names respectively. The Ancients, as such, have the Advantage in This, that they ought to be honoured as the Inventers of most Arts and Sciences; but then the Moderns, as such, have the Advantage in This, that besides their own Strength and Sagacity, they have the Models of the Ancients to improve upon: And very strange it would be, if they should not improve in some things, as well as lose in others.

I shall give the particular Reasons for my Opinion of these two great Poets, before I finish: In the mean time, I hope the Reader will excuse my Rambling. I am very sensible that I shall not only differ in judgment from many Criticks of great Name, both Ancient and Modern; but that I am like to fall under the ready, and natural Censure of being prejudiced my self, while I warn against it in others. All I can say, is, that I have endeavoured to divest my self of it as much as possible; but cannot be positive that I am entirely free from it; being well aware that nothing in the World is more difficult. For I am sure I have followed One Precept of my Lord Roscommon, in his excellent Essay on Translated Verse:

Examine how your Humour is inclin'd,
And which the ruling Passion of your Mind;
Then seek a Poet who that way does bend,
And chuse an Author, as you chuse a Friend.

And as this is One Circumstance, which is like to make a Man succeed, as a Translator; so it is like to make him err, as a Judge. For this Sort of Friendship (like all others) will certainly incline us to be partial in favour of the Person whom we praise, or defend. It is in This, as in every thing else; the Affections will be apt to biass the Understanding; and doubtless a Man in a great measure judges This, or That way of Writing to be best, because it is most agreeable to his own natural Temper. Thus, for Example; One Man judges (as he calls it) Horace's Satyrs to be the best; Another is for Juvenal's: When, all this while, strictly speaking, they may not so much differ in Judgment, as Inclination: For each of them perhaps will allow Both to be best

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in their Kind; but the one is chiefly delighted with this Kind, and the other with that; and there is all the real Difference between them. And tho' this does not exactly parallel the present Case; the Poems of Homer and Virgil being more of the same Species, than the Satyrs of Horace and Juvenal; yet it comes very near it: and the Word Species will admit of more Distinction than is commonly imagined: These two Heroic Poets being very different in their Turn, and Manner of Thinking, and Writing. But after all, there are in Nature and Reason certain Rules by which we are to judge in these Matters, as well as in others; and there are still such things as Truth and Falshood, notwithstanding Partiality and Prepossession. And this I can assure my Reader, I am not prejudiced in Behalf of my Author, by attempting to be his Translator; for I was of the same Opinion, before I had the least Thought of this daring Enterprize. However, I do not pretend to decide as a Judge, but only to argue as an Advocate; and a Man may be allowed to plead with Prejudice, tho' he always ought to determine without it: For it may do no Mischief at the Bar, tho it be intolerable upon the Bench. But that my Reader may not be misguided by it, upon a Supposition that I am; I desire him to consider, that as I differ from some great Criticks, so I have the Authority of others to support my Opinion. I need not insist upon Scaliger, Rapin, and the incomparable Earl of Roscommon, whose Judgments upon this Point are very well known; but I will produce the Words of Macrobius, as collected by la Cerda,[6] because he is commonly supposed to be in the other Interest. It is true, in the Comparison of particular Passages, he generally prefers Homer; yet he says, Virgilius Homero ditior, locupletior, cultior, purior, clarior, fortior vi argumentorum, diligentior, observantior, uberior, pulchrior. "Virgil is richer, and fuller than Homer, neater, purer, clearer, stronger in the Force of his Arguments, more diligent, more observing, more copious, more beautiful." Thus, I say, he speaks, as he is represented by the above-mentioned Commentator; who only pretends to have picked up those Words from several scattered Passages in his Writings: Whether they are faithfully collected, or no (for he does not quote the particular Places) I have not had the Patience to examine, nor am I at all solicitous to know. It would be endless to cite Scaliger upon this Subject; and besides, when I agree with him, it is rather in his Praise of Virgil, than in his Dispraise of Homer. I am far from being of his Opinion in some Particulars, and farther from approving of his Way and Manner of Proceeding. He inveighs against Homer with as much Bitterness, as if he had a personal Quarrel with him; prosecutes him with all the Malice of Criticism, and that too sometimes false Criticism; and is upon the whole highly injurious to the Character of that wonderful Poet. Yet I cannot on the other side agree with Madam Dacier, who is at least even with Scaliger, by calling him the worst Critick in the World: Le plus mechant Critique du Monde, are the very Words she uses. On the contrary, I think, he is generally upon these Occasions rather Hyperbolical in his Expressions, than Erroneous in his Judgment. I am indeed amazed at the Confidence of Monsieur de la Motte, who treats Homer with the greatest Freedom, and almost with Contempt, when at the same time he acknowledges he does not understand one Word of his Language. For my self, I have nothing to say, but that I have a Right to deliver my Sentiments, as well as another; and, to use the Words of that noble Poet and Critick above-mentioned,

I speak my private, but impartial Sense,
With Freedom, and I hope without Offence.

And here I cannot but observe, that tho' I am charmed with that fine Turn of his, after having remarked upon some supposed Faults in Homer;

But I offend; Virgil begins to frown,
And Horace looks with Indignation down;
My blushing Muse with conscious Fear retires,
And whom they like implicitly admires:

Tho', I say, I am charmed with the Elegancy of the Poet, the Modesty of the Critick, and the courtly Politeness of the Nobleman; and tho', as I shall observe hereafter, I am not of his Opinion, as to the Particulars he takes notice of, in the Verses preceding: yet I do not understand why, for disapproving of some things in Homer, he should apprehend either the Frowns of Virgil, or the Indignation of Horace. As Virgil saw the Beauties of Homer, while he imitated them; he no less saw his Errours, while he avoided them. And as to Horace, that Nil molitur inepte, in one Place, and——Quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus, in another, must be regarded as Hyperboles; the one as an Auxesis, the other as a Meiôsis. Not but that upon the whole, he certainly admired Homer; nor would he have been the good Judge he was, if he had not. But as he was acquainted with the Iliad, and the Odyssee, so had he lived to have been as well acquainted with the Æneis; would he not have preferred the last, before both the first? Those who differ from me will say he would not; and 'tis altogether as easy for me to say he would. The same, and more, may be remarked of Aristotle; who was perfectly acquainted with Homer, but not at all with Virgil.

Invention, Fire, and Judgment, will, I think, include all the Requisites of an Epic Poem. The Action, the Fable, the Manners, the Compass, and Variety of Matter, seem to be properly comprehended under the First of these; yet not so as to exclude the Two last. For the particular Disposition of them all is an Act of the Judgment, as the first Creating of them is an Act of Invention; and Fire, tho' distinct from Invention, and Judgment, has a near Relation to them Both, as it assists the one, and is to be regulated by the other.

By those who commonly discourse of Heroic, and Dramatic Poetry, the Action, and the Fable seem not to be sufficiently distinguished. The Action is a great Achievement of some illustrious Person, attended with an important and memorable Event. The Fable is that Complication of Incidents, Episodes, and other Circumstances, which tend to the carrying on of the Action, or give Reasons for it, or at least embellish and adorn it. I make this Distinction; because Episodes are such, as are either absolutely necessary, or very requisite. Of the former sort is that long Narration of Æneas, I mean in the main Substance of it, which is the entire Subject of the Second, and Third Books. This perhaps will not by some be allowed to be an Episode; because, I think, it is not commonly called so: For that Word is generally appropriated to Actions, and therefore will be supposed not applicable to a Narration. But I think we shall speak more clearly; if by that Word we mean (as indeed the [7]Etymology of it imports) whatsoever is adventitious to the grand Action of the Poem, connected to it, or inserted in it; whether it be it self an Action, or no. And there is Ground enough to distinguish This from

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the immediate, and direct Train, or Course of the main Action it self; and to shew what may, and may not, be called an Episode. For Example; The Sailing of the Trojan Fleet from Sicily in the First Book, it's Arrival there again at the Beginning of the Fifth, and it's Sailing from thence at the End of that Book; The Landing at Cumæ in the Beginning of the Sixth; and in another Part of Italy, at the Beginning of the Seventh; The whole Operations of that Book, and so of all the rest, wherever the Heroe himself, or his Armies for him, either with or without his Presence, are directly engaged in the great Affair to be carry'd on, are, all of them, so many successive Parts of one, and the same Action (the great Action of the Poem) continued in a direct Line, and flowing in it's proper Channel. But where any Part comes under any one of the Bye-Characters above-mentioned, it is properly an Episode, whether it be an Action, or a Narration. The long Recital of Adventures in the Second and Third Books is not an Action, but it is Necessary: The Expedition of Nisus and Euryalus in the Ninth is not Necessary, but it is an Action: And Both are Episodes. Which brings us back to the Distinction before taken notice of, between Incidents and Episodes, and the several Kinds of the latter. All Episodes are Incidents; but it is not so on the Reverse. The Storm in the First Book, driving the Fleet on the Coast of Carthage, is an Incident, but not an Episode; because the Heroe himself, and the whole Body of his Forces, are concerned in it; and so it is a direct, not a collateral Part of the main Action. But even Episodes (as I said) must carry on the main Action, or give Reasons for it, or at least embellish it: And therefore I said they are either absolutely necessary, or very requisite. The Narration in the Second and Third Books is not a Part of the Action; but it gives Reasons for it, and so is Necessary: The Adventures of Nisus and Euryalus in the Ninth Book, of Mezentius in the Tenth, and of Camilla in the Eleventh, are all requisite, but not absolutely necessary; and yet they are properly Parts of the main Action, tho' collateral, not direct. The Loves of Dido and Æneas in the Fourth Book, the Sports at the Tomb of Anchises in the Fifth, the Description of Hell in the Sixth, the Story of Cacus, and the Decorations of the Shield in the Eighth, are all supposed by some to be entirely ornamental, and no Parts of the main Action. And This perhaps they may imagine to be a great Point yielded to the Disadvantage of Virgil. Admitting it were so, Homer would gain nothing by it; most of them being taken from him, and he having more of such Excrescencies, if they must be so called. But This in Reality is no reasonable Objection against either. The Episode of Dido and Æneas shall be considered in my Remarks upon the Fourth Book. The Descent into Hell is a direct Part of the Action; the Heroe going thither to consult his Father's Ghost concerning the Operations of the War, and the future Fate of Himself, and his Posterity (for all Action, even in an Heroic Poem, does not consist in Fighting:) And it would be very strange, if, in a Work of such a Length, the Poet might not be allowed to take that Occasion, to describe the Regions thro' which his Heroe passed, and to make the noblest, and most surprizing Description that ever the World saw. The same may be said of the Casting, and Engraving of the Shield, which contains a considerable Part of the Roman History; as does the Speech of Anchises in the foregoing Division; both introduced with exquisite Art, and Judgment. For the rest; granting that they are purely ornamental; and that while the Poet is describing them, the Action stands still, as the Criticks express themselves: There let it stand, with all my heart, 'till Virgil thinks fit to set it a going again. If the Action stands still, I am sure the Poem does not; and the Reader, I think, must be very phlegmatick, if his Spirits do. What if those Episodes are not Parts of the Action? They are Parts of the Poem, and with the greatest Skill inferred in it. What if they are not absolutely necessary? They are very convenient; and that is sufficient. For if we allow that they are entirely ornamental, we deny that they are impertinent, or superfluous; no Things in the World being more uniform, or more naturally and elegantly connected. Nor does Virgil ever commit the Fault of those whom Horace justly condemns; by whom

Purpureus, late qui splendeat, unus & alter
Assuitur pannus——

But the Foundation of all this wrong Criticism, is the Errour of reducing an Heroic Poem to the narrow Rules of the Stage. For tho' the Drama be, in some Respects, more perfect than the Epopée, in others it is inferiour. And it is not Virgil's Fault, if we will not distinguish between the Building of a House, and of a City; or between that of a City, and of the Universe. In a Work of such an Extent as an Epic Poem, and all delivered in Narration, not represented by Action, these Interruptions of the main Business (especially when they are some of the most beautiful Parts of the Poem, as they always are in Virgil's) are so far from being Improprieties, that they are Excellencies. This Variety is a Relief to the Mind of the Reader; who is more diverted by the alternate Rest, and Rapidity of the Action, than he would be by it's perpetual Motion. Nay the Mind is therefore the more in perpetual Motion, (tho' in several kinds of it) than if the Action really were so. For the Poem, as I observed, does not stand still, tho' the Action may.

If what I have discoursed upon Episodes be not in the usual, I think it is in the clearer way of Expressing; and as such I propose it to others. Bossu, in his excellent Treatise of Epic Poetry, has some nice Distinctions concerning them; which to me are more subtile, than perspicuous: But that, I am sensible, may be my Fault, not his. And yet he seems not to distinguish enough, when he says all Episodes are necessary Parts of the Action, and makes no Difference between Necessary, and Convenient. Nay he appears to be inconsistent[8] with himself upon this Head, and to mistake the Sense of Aristotle. To the Doctrine of which Philosopher I think my Account is more agreeable. For after he has represented the Action of the Odyssée in a direct Line, as I have That of the Æneis; he immediately adds,[9] This then is proper; the rest are Episodes. By the Word Proper, I understand Immediately, and Directly Necessary. But he no where says that all Episodes are so in any Sense; but leaves that Matter at large. For tho' his French Translators, Bossu, and Dacier (which latter, I think, is in the same Errour with the former) use the same Word Proper, when apply'd to Episodes, as when apply'd to the main Action; yet the Words[10] in the Original are different. Bossu argues, that the litteral Signification of the Word Episode, [something

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adventitious] cannot take place; because an Episode must not be added, or superinduced, but naturally flow, or arise from the Subject. As if a new Person could not enter a Room to a Company already there assembled, without being impertinent: Surely his Coming may not only be proper, but necessary; tho' I confess it may not be necessary, and yet be proper: Which is the very thing I would say of Episodes. According to this, when Virgil says in the Seventh Book,

Hos super advenit Volsca de gente Camilla;

That Heroine is a mere Intruder; and her Story afterwards in the Eleventh Book is no Episode. In short, it matters not whether we say those Incidents flow, or arise from the Subject; or are added, and connected to it; or inserted, and interwoven with it: If they are natural, and proper Parts of the Poem, That is sufficient; all the rest is a Dispute about Words, and of no Importance, or Significancy. However it be, I think I cannot better represent the several sorts of Episodes which I have mentioned, than by an Instance nearly ally'd to my Subject; I mean that of a General making a Campaign. All the important Undertakings, and Performances of Himself, or the Gross of his Army, or Both, in pursuance of the Design proposed, are direct Parts of the main Action; and so far the Campaign, and the Poem agree even in Terms. If he sitting in his Tent either gives, or hears, the Recital of something past, the Knowledge of which is absolutely necessary to the Prosecution of his Enterprize; This indeed is not Action: But still it was said to be absolutely necessary in order to the Prosecution of his Enterprize. And so is that Narration of Æneas in the Second, and Third Books, in order to the carrying on of the Action, and to shew the Reason of it. This in War would not be called an Episode; but it is so in Poetry. Should the same General detach a Part of his Army upon a particular Expedition; and the Commander of that Body behave himself with uncommon Gallantry, and attempt something very extraordinary, and to be distinguished in History; whether he succeeded in that Attempt or not: This would indeed be a Part of the Campaign; but perhaps not a necessary one; because the Campaign might have subsisted, and have been successful, or unsuccessful, with it, or without it. Such are the Episodes of Nisus and Euryalus; of Mezentius; and of Camilla. The Case of the same General's being for some time diverted from Action by an Amour, or some such Incident, shall be considered in my Remarks upon the Fourth Book. But should he in Time of Inaction, tho' the Campaign still continued, entertain his Officers and Soldiers with warlike Sports and Recreations; or hear the Relation of some memorable Adventure, in the Place where he encamped (like the Adventure of Hercules, and Cacus) tho' no way concerning his own Affairs: These indeed would not be Parts of the Action of his Campaign; but still might be very properly recorded in History, and afford great Delight to the Reader; who would by no Means be offended either with the General, or the Historian; nor think the History of that Campaign to be less of a Piece, because the warlike Operations were for some Time suspended. For we must still remember, that tho' an Epic Poem be widely different from History in many Circumstances; yet it is more nearly ally'd to it, than any Dramatic Piece whatsoever. The learned Reader, I fear, will think I might have troubled him with fewer Words upon this Subject, but such Readers I presume not to instruct: What I have said may not perhaps be altogether unuseful to Those who are less conversant in these Matters: To acquaint them with which, nothing can contribute more, than clear Ideas annexed to the Words, Action, Fable, Incident, and Episode: All which (especially the last) are ill understood by many, who yet use them with the greatest Freedom and Familiarity.

Now if my Opinion be not received, I hope my avowed Ignorance will at least be excused; while I confess, that tho' I very clearly apprehend the Settling of the Trojan Colony in Italy to be the Action of the Æneis; and the Return of Ulysses to be the Action of the Odyssée: yet I do not so well understand how the Anger of Achilles comes to be called the Action of the Iliad. For besides that Anger is a Passion, not an Action: And if you mean the immediate Effect of that Anger, not the Anger it self; Standing still, and doing nothing (which was the Consequence of that Heroe's Resentment) can as little be called an Action as the Other; I say, not to insist upon This, tho' it is by no means so trivial a Nicety as some may suppose; the Anger of Achilles is not the main Subject of the Poem, nor the chief Hinge upon which it turns. The Action of it seems to be the Conquest of Troy; the Fable, the Trojan War; and the Anger of Achilles, an important Incident, serving to aggrandize the Heroe, and consequently the Action, and to render them more illustrious; as also at the same time to convey that useful Moral, concerning the fatal Effects of Discord and Contention. It will be said, that what I have mentioned is not the Action of the Poem, because Homer has not proposed it as such: But may it not be as well replied, that it is the Action of the Poem; and therefore he should have proposed it as such? For what is the Action, appears from the Stress and Turn of the Work, not from the Title or Exordium; from the End, not from the Beginning: And of This the Readers are to judge, as well as of any thing else. Did not Homer then know the Action of his own Poem? Yes questionless; but he did not mention it in his Proposition; which may possibly be chargeable upon him as an Errour: He mentions the most important Incident, but omits the Action. Had the Exordium set forth the Defeat of the Trojans, and the Destruction of Troy, with such a Clause as this, "Tho' that great Event was suspended by the fatal Anger of Achilles, Ἠ μύρι' Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε' ἔθηκε, and so on, as it now stands; it would, in my humble Opinion, have been more unexceptionable than it is at present. But I beg Pardon for even seeming to pretend to correct Homer; and speak This with all possible Submission. It is true, the Conquest of Troy is not compleated in the Iliad; no more is the Settlement of the Trojans by the Building of the Heroe's City in the Æneis: But Hector is killed in the one; as Turnus is in the other; and the Consequences of Both are very visible. I acknowledge indeed, that those of the former are not so near in view as those of the latter. But tho' Virgil in his Æneis, and Homer himself in his Odyssée, inform us that the Death of Hector was not the immediate Cause of the Destruction of Troy; the War continuing with great Obstinacy for a considerable time after that Heroe's Death; as the Stratagem of the Wooden Horse was the immediate Cause of that City's Destruction; And tho' Homer confines the direct Action of his Iliad only to a Part of the Trojan War: Yet he takes in the Whole from the Amour of Paris and Helen to the Burning of the Town, by way of Narration, and by way of Prophecy; which Artifice, next to Fiction, is the most proper Character of Epick Poetry, as distinguished from History. For the Invention of This, we are (at least so far as we know) solely obliged to Homer: And for This alone, if he had done nothing else, he would have merited that immortal Glory, which for This, and for a thousand other Excellencies, he now most

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justly possesses.

The Shortness of the Time, and the Simplicity of the Action, are Circumstances which, in the Opinion of some, give the Iliad a great Advantage over the Æneis. The first mentioned would be no such Advantage; if what Ruæus says were true; that the Iliad takes up a Year: For Monsieur Segrais has made it plain to a Demonstration, that the Æneis takes up no more. But I wonder Ruæus should affirm That of the Iliad; when it is manifest that the whole Action includes no more than forty seven Days. As to the Simplicity, or Singleness of which; if That be the Action which I apprehend, (for, out of Deference to the commonly received Opinion, I do not insist upon it) the Action is more complex, than it is generally supposed. But admitting that in the Iliad the Action is more simple, as well as the Time shorter, than in the Æneis: Doubtless a single Action is better than a complicated one, as such; or in other Words, it is better, if it can be made equally entertaining. But there is the Difficulty: And for that Reason, it is a Question not yet decided, whether, even in Pieces for the Theatre, complicated Actions, all things considered, be not, generally speaking, preferable to single ones. And there is yet more Reason to prefer the former in an Epic Poem; which is of a far wider Extent, and partakes the Nature of History in some Respects, as well as of the Drama in others. "Virgil (says Mr. Pope[11]) for want of so warm a Genius [as Homer's] aided himself by taking in a more extensive Subject, as well as a greater Length of Time; and contracted the Design of both Homer's Poems into one, which is yet but a fourth Part as large as his." The supposed Coolness of Virgil's Genius shall be considered hereafter. At present I acknowledge he took what he thought proper out of the Iliad and Odyssée, tho' he did not take his Design from either; and his first six Books resemble the Odyssée, as the last six do the Iliad: And his one Poem, 'tis granted, is in Number of Books no more than a Quarter of Homer's two. But in This the Advantage seems to be on his Side. For there is, if I do not greatly miscalculate, as much important Matter, and as great a Variety of Incidents, in Virgil's Twelve, as in Homer's Forty eight. And yet is Virgil's Poem too much crouded, and the Matter too thick? I think not. Are not Homer's, on the contrary, too lean? and is not the Matter too thinly spred? I think it is. When I say a greater Number of Incidents; I do not mean more Men killed, more Battles fought, more Speeches spoke, and the like: Those are not Incidents; and I own Homer has many more of them than Virgil. Mr. Pope admires the Variety of Homer's Battles for this Reason, that tho' they are so numerous they are not tedious. This is extraordinary indeed, if it be true: But whether a Thing be tedious or not, is Matter of Experience, rather than of Judgment; and so every particular Person must speak as he finds. Upon his Multitude of Speeches, the most ingenious Gentleman above-mentioned, (who was certainly born a Poet, if ever Man was) has this Remark: "It is hardly credible, in a Work of such a Length, how small a Number of Lines are employed in Narration. In Virgil the Dramatic Part is less in proportion to the Narrative." It is so; and even in proportion to the different Length of their Works, Homer has undoubtedly more Speeches than Virgil; too many, in my humble Opinion. Homer has not enough of the Narrative Part; but Virgil has enough of the Dramatic; if it must be so called. For, by the way, (tho' I very well remember that Aristotle applies this Word to the Epopée, and have elsewhere taken notice of it, and have observed from Monsieur Dacier, that he uses it in a different Sense from This of which we are now speaking) I do not understand why Speech-making in an Heroic Poem must be called Dramatic; and by virtue of that Name pass for a Beauty. The Drama indeed consists wholly of Speeches; but then they are spoken by the Persons themselves, who are actually introduced and represented; not related and recited by the Author as spoken by others, as they always are in an Epic Poem. Those are both agreeable, and necessary; These, if they take up far the greatest Part of the Work, being inserted by the everlasting Repetition of those introducing, and closing interlocutory Tags, Κaί μιν φωνήσας, Τόν δ' αὖτε προσέειπε, Ὣς ἔφατ', Τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος, &c. are apt to tire the Reader; nor does the Word Dramatic at all lessen the Disgust which they give him. I am aware too, that setting aside the Word Dramatic, Aristotle expresly declares for a Multitude of Speeches, and little Narration in Epic Poetry: But then I beg Leave once for all to make a Remark upon this Subject, which may be applied to some others; That Aristotle's Precepts are formed upon Homer's Practice; no other Heroic Poet having then appeared in the World. But since the Case is now quite altered, to give Homer the Preference to Virgil upon Rules entirely drawn from his own Practice, would be begging the Question even in the Judgment of Aristotle as a Logician, whatever might be his Opinion as a Critick. Not but that, after all, a far greater Part even of Virgil's Poem is employed in Speeches, than one would imagine without a very close Attention: If I may judge of others by my self, we are deceived by him in this Particular, (so exquisite is his Art) and even after frequent Readings do not ordinarily take notice that there are so many Speeches in his Æneis as there really are: An infallible Sign that they are excellent in themselves, and most skilfully introduced and connected. I agree that in an Epic Poem they ought to be very numerous; tho' I do not ground that Opinion upon the Reason which Aristotle assigns; viz. That otherwise a Poet would not be an Imitator. For is there no Imitation but in Speeches? What are Descriptions?