Series Two:
Essays on Poetry and Language

No. 1

Samuel Cobb's

Discourse on Criticism
and
of Poetry

from
Poems on Several Occasions (1707)

With an Introduction by
Louis I. Bredvold

The Augustan Reprint Society
July, 1946

Membership in the Augustan Reprint Society entitles the subscriber to six publications issued each year. The annual membership fee is $2.50. Address subscriptions and communications to The Augustan Reprint Society in care of the General Editors: Richard C. Boys, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan; or Edward N. Hooker or H.T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles 24, California. Editorial Advisors: Louis I. Bredvold, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan, and James L. Clifford, Columbia University, New York.

Introduction

What little is known of the life of Samuel Cobb (1675-1713) may be found in the brief article in the Dictionary of National Biography by W.P. Courtney. He was born in London, and educated at Christ's Hospital and at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained the degrees of B.A., 1698, and M.A., 1702. He was appointed "under grammar master" at Christ's Hospital in 1702 and continued his connection with this school until his early death. He had a reputation for wit and learning, and also for imbibing somewhat too freely. In his poetry he especially cultivated the style of the free Pindaric ode, a predilection which won him a mention without honor in Johnson's life of Pope (Lives of the Poets, ed. Birkbeck Hill, III, 227). Even the heroic couplets of his poem on "Poetry" aim rather at pseudo-Pindaric diffuseness than at epigrammatic concentration of statement. As a critic Cobb deserves attention in spite of his mediocrity, or even because of it. He helps to fill out the picture of the literary London of his time, and his opinions and tastes provide valuable side-lights on such greater men as Dennis, Addison, and Pope. "Of Poetry" belongs to the prolific literary type of "progress poems," in which the modern student finds illuminating statements as to how the eighteenth century surveyed and evaluated past literary traditions. The list of Cobb's publications in the Cambridge Bibliography suggests that he enjoyed some degree of popularity. His volume, Poems on Several Occasions, was published in 1707, and reprinted in enlarged form in 1709 and 1710. The reproduction herewith of the Preface "On Criticism" and the versified discourse "Of Poetry" is from a copy of the 1707 edition in the Newberry Library, in Chicago.

Louis I. Bredvold

University of Michigan

A DISCOURSE ON CRITICISM AND THE LIBERTY OF WRITING.

In a Letter to Richard Carter Esq; late of the Middle-Temple, now living in Barbadoes.

SIR,

The Muses are said to be the Daughters of Memory: A Poet therefore must lay down his Title to their Favour, who can be forgetful of a Friend, like You, whose polite Knowledge, instructive Conversation, and particulur Generosity to my self, have left such strong Impressions upon my Mind, as defy the Power of Absence to remove them. I scarce believe Death it self can blot out an Idea so firmly imprinted. The Soul, when it leaves this earthly Habitation, and has no more Use for those Vertues, which were serviceable in the Conduct of human Life, such as Temperance, Fortitude and the like, will certainly carry Love and Gratitude along with it to Heaven. This may suffice to let the World know what Obligations you have laid upon me.

By this Letter (the room of which, for your sake I could willingly have supply'd) you will plainly see, that no Place, however remote, is able to secure you from the Zeal of a Friend, and the Vanity of a Poet.

For tho' retiring to the Western Isles,
At the long Distance of five thousand Miles,
You've chang'd dear London for your Native Seat,
And think Barbadoes is a safe Retreat;
You highly err: Nor is the Wat'ry Fence
Sufficient Guard against Impertinence.
The Muse, which smiles on jingling Bards, like Me,
Has always Winds to waft her o'er the Sea.
Blow on, ye Winds, and o'er th' Atlantick Main,
Bear to my Gen'rous Friend this thankful Strain.

You see, Sir, I have not left off that rhyming Trick of Youth; but knowing You to be a Gentleman who loves Variety in every thing, I thought it would not be ungrateful if I checquer'd my Prose with a little Verse.

After this Preamble, it is presum'd, that one who lives on the Other side of the Globe, will expect by every Pacquet-boat to know what is done on This. Since Your Departure, Affairs have had a surprizing Turn every where, and particularly in Italy; which Success of our Armies and Allies abroad, have given a manifest Proof of our wise Counsels at home. ——Parties still run between High and Low. I shall make no Remarks on either; thinking it always more prudent, as well as more safe, to live peaceably under the Government in which I was born, rather than peevishly to quarrel with it.

But You will cry, Who expects any thing from the Politicks of a Poet? How goes the State of Parnassus? What has the Battle of Ramillies produc'd? What Battles generally do; bad Poets, and worse Criticks. I could not perswade my self to attempt any thing above six Lines, which had not been made, were it not at the Request of a Musical Gentleman. You will look upon them with the same Countenance you us'd to do on things of a larger Size.

Born to surprize the World, and teach the Great
The slippery Danger of exalted State,
Victorious Marlbrô to Ramilly flies;
Arm'd with new Lightning from bright ANNA's Eyes.
Wonders like These, no former Age has seen;
Subjects are Heroes, where a Saint's the QUEEN.

Mr. Congreve has given the World an Ode, and prefix'd to it a Discourse on the Pindaric Verse, of which more, when I come to speak on the same Argument: There are several others on that Subject, and some which will bear the Test; one particularly, written in imitation of the Style of Spencer; and goes under the Name of Mr. Prior; I have not read it through, but ex pede Herculem. He is a Gentleman who cannot write ill. Yet some of our Criticks have fell upon it, as the Viper did on the File, to the detriment of their Teeth. So that Criticism, which was formerly the Art of judging well, is now become the pure Effect of Spleen, Passion and Self-conceit. Nothing is perfect in every Part. He that expects to see any thing so, must have patience till Dooms-day. The Worship we pay to our own Opinion, generally leads its to the Contempt of another's. This blind Idolatry of Self is the Mother of Errour; and this begets a secret Vanity in our Modern Censurers, who, when they please to think a Meaning for an Author, would thereby insinuate how much his Judgment is inferiour to their inlighten'd Sagacity. When, perhaps, the Failings they expose are a plain Evidence of their own Blindness.

For to display our Candour and our Sence,
Is to discover some deep Excellence.
The Critick's faulty, while the Poet's free;
They raise the Mole hill, who want Eyes to see.

Excrescences are easily perceiv'd by an ordinary Eye; but it requires the Penetration of a Lynceus to discern the Depth of a good Poem; the secret Artfulness and Contrivance of it being conceal'd from a Vulgar Apprehension.

I remember somewhere an Observation of St. Evremont