1.

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Mr Addison.

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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

WITH A DISSERTATION UPON The Roman POETS.

By Mr. ADDISON.

LONDON: Printed for E. CURLL in Fleet-ſtreet. 1719.

PREFACE.

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NOW the Tranſlations of Mr. Addiſon's POEMS appear together, it may not be improper to make a few Obſervations on Modern Latin Poetry, and in particular the following Compoſitions.

Since the general Diſuſe and Corruption of the Latin Tongue, there are not many Attempts in Poetry in that Language that retain the Purity and [vi] Graces of the Auguſtan-Age. The Italians, by the Encouragement of the Houſe of MEDICIS, firſt began the Study and Imitation of the beſt Roman Poets; and about the Time of Leo the Xth, there appeared a great Number of fine Genius's, who endeavour'd to ſhake off the Barbarity, and poliſh the Ruſt of an ignorant Age. The Event very near anſwer'd their Expectations, and the Muſes ſeem'd to be re-inſtated in their old Land of Inheritance. The Reader may ſee a Collection of their beſt Pieces in a Volume intitul'd Poetae Italici; but among all of them Vida is the moſt pure and elegant, tho' ſome are offended at the perpetual Imitation of his Darling VIRGIL. The French have nothing conſiderable that I have [vii] ſeen in this way, but Rapin, whoſe Poems every where diſcover a Roman Colouring; and as he does not follow VIRGIL'S Expreſſion ſo nearly as Vida, he is more agreeable to the Judicious. Vida with an eaſy Felicity adapts VIRGIL'S Words to every Subject, Rapin chuſes rather to imitate his manner of Expreſſion than borrow his very Phraſes: So that we may ſay of theſe Two, as Mr. Dryden does of Fletcher's and Johnſon's copying Shakeſpear:

One imitates him moſt, and t'other beſt.

The Dutch themſelves have ſome no mean Latin Poems, as is evident from the Works of Grotius and Heinſius. [viii] Buchanan is the juſt boaſt of the Scots Nation: He was a perfect Maſter of the Latin Tongue, knew all its Strength and Beauties, and very happily tranſfus'd them into his own Poems. That neglected Piece of his De Sphaerâ is upon ſo nice and difficult a Subject as fine and noble a Poem as ever was wrote; tho' I don't know by what Fate, the Modern Criticks are never pleas'd to mention it to his Honour. I beg their Pardons for calling them Criticks, a Name too glorious for theſe Borrowers of others Opinions, who live upon the Plunder of Scaliger and Rapin without conſulting the Originals; where, if they have happen'd to praiſe any thing, theſe Gentlemen take all upon truſt, and [ix] are Strangers to every Fault and Excellence they have omitted to Blame or Commend.

As to our own Nation, the Occaſional Copies in the Ʋniverſity Collections, are the beſt Poems we have; the chief of which are publiſh'd in the Muſae Anglicanae, tho' I have read a great many more which deſerve an equal Honour. Out of theſe we have ſingled the Poems of Mr. Addiſon, as the moſt ſhining Ornaments of that Work, and given the unlearned Reader the Pleaſure of admiring them in his Native Language. I will not ſay that it is abſolutely neceſſary to be a good Latin Poet in order to become a good Engliſh One, but I [x] am ſure that he who imitates the Antients in their own Language will ſlide more eaſily into their way of Thinking, adapt their Graces by Degrees, and beautifully tranſplant them into his Mother-Tongue; and theſe are no vulgar Beauties in an Engliſh Poem. I could mention how ſucceſsfully this was done by Milton formerly, and in our Times by Mr. Addiſon, if it did not draw me into too great a length of Preface, which more properly belongs to the following Pieces.

Moſt of theſe, tho' very perfect in their kinds, I am apt to believe were deſign'd as Trials of a great Genius, after the modeſt manner of [xi] the Antients, who began to ſport and play in Eſſays of their Poetical Strength before they attempted Subjects of a greater Dignity. To ſpeak of them in general, I obſerve that the Language is Pure, Elegant, and Sounding; the Verſification eaſy and numerous, happily adapted to the different Subjects it deſcribes, free from the affected Turns, Puerile Levities, and other Flatneſſes, which betray a falſe Taſte, and Defect of Judgment. The Critick every where accompanies the Poet, and even here a diſcerning Eye might have ſeen the Promiſes of a CAMPAIGN and a CATO.

[xii] The Battel of the Pygmies and Cranes, The Puppet-Show, and The Bowling-Green, are of the Mock-Heroic kind, the Subjects mean and trivial, ſeemingly incapable of Poetical Ornaments, but are rais'd to the Heroic, by a ſplendid Boldneſs of Expreſſion, a Pomp of Verſe, by Metaphors, Alluſions, and Similitudes drawn from Things of a higher Claſs, and ſuch as are ſuited by Nature to convey Ideas of Greatneſs and Magnificence to the Mind. VIRGIL, in his Georgicks, is the great Maſter in this way, with this Difference only, that his is a ſerious Geandeur, this a Mimic one, his produces Admiration, this Laughter.

[xiii] The Reſurrection is a noble Piece, drawn after the Painter with a maſterly Hand. As it has been ſpoken to by the Tranſlator, I leave the Reader to his Obſervations.

The Barometer is a fine Philoſophical Poem, deſcribing the Effects of the Air on that wonderful Inſtrument with great Exactneſs, as well as in the moſt beautiful Poetry. The Odes to Dr. Burnett and Dr. Hannes are written in the true Spirit of HORACE, and are only equall'd among the Moderns by thoſe excellent ones of the Latter.

[xiv] The Peace of Reſwick is here plac'd laſt, but firſt in the Original, in which the Author ſeems to have exerted all his Powers, to make it ſhine above his other Compoſitions. It is, indeed, a Maſter-Piece, the Images are choſen with a nice Judgment, work'd up with a Delicacy of Imagination, and plac'd in the ſtrongeſt Light. Every thing ſtrikes at the firſt View, and yet will bear the ſtricteſt Eye to re-examine it. The Deſcriptions being both juſt and ſurprizing, put the Mind upon the full ſtretch as they are preparing, and exceed the boldeſt Expectations when finiſh'd. Upon this occaſion I can't help remarking, that the Art of [xv] War being ſo much chang'd ſince the Roman Times, it muſt be a difficult Task to find Words in that Language to expreſs even the common Ideas of a Modern Battel; but to do it in all its terrible Scenes of new Inventions was reſerv'd for the Pen of Mr. Addiſon.

The Tranſlators, I hope, need not make any excuſe to the Reader, tho' they will want an Apology to the Author, whoſe Excellencies their Copies but faintly imitate. All that I can ſay in our Defence, is, that ſome of them have fell into much worſe Hands before, who have mangled his Senſe, and debas'd his Poetry, by a cold, unſpirited Tranſlation. Thus [xvi] if he does ſome Kindneſs in a moral way, who takes off part of an Injury, tho' he can't redreſs the Whole, we may hope at leaſt to be forgiven who have corrected many Abuſes caſt on Mr. Addiſon by former Authors, tho' we could not in all things do him the Juſtice he deſerves.

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[...] inv. E Kirkall. sculp.

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Ad Inſigniſſimum Virum D. THO. BURNETTUM, Sacrae Theoriae Telluris Autorem.

NON uſitatum carminis alitem,
BURNETTE, poſcis, non humiles modos:
Vulgare plectrum, languidaeque
Reſpuis officium camoenae.
Tu mixta rerum ſemina conſcius,
Molémque cernis diſſociabilem,
Terrámque concretam, & latentem
Oceanum gremio capaci:
Dum veritatem quaerere pertinax
Ignota pandis, ſollicitus parùm
Utcunque ſtet commune vulgi
Arbitrium & popularis error.
Auditur ingens continuò fragor,
Illapſa tellus lubrica deſerit
Fundamina, & compage fractâ
Suppoſitas gravis urget undas.
Impulſus erumpit medius liquor,
Terras aquarum effuſa licentia
Claudit viciſſim; has inter orbis
Reliquiae fluitant prioris.
Nunc & recluſo carcere lucidam
Balaena ſpectat ſolis imaginem,
Stelláſque miratur natantes,
Et tremulae ſimulacra lunae.
[]Quae pompa vocum non imitabilis!
Qualis caleſcit ſpiritus ingenî!
Ut toll is undas! ut frementem
Diluvii reprimis tumultum!
Quis tam valenti pectore ferreus
Ut non tremiſcens & timido pede
Incedat, orbis dum dolofi
Detegis inſtabiles ruinas?
Quin haec cadentûm fragmina montium
Natura vultum ſumere ſimplicem
Coget refingens, in priorem
Mox iterum reditura formam.
Nimbis rubentem ſulphureis Jovem
Cernas; ut udis ſaevit atrox Hyems
Incendiis, commune mundo
Et populis meditata Buſtum!
Nudus liquentes plorat Athos nives,
Et mox liqueſcens ipſe adamantinum
Fundit cacumen, dum per imas
Saxa fluunt reſoluta valles.
Jamque alta coeli moenia corruunt,
Et veſtra tandem pagina (proh nefas!)
BURNETTE, veſtra augebit ignes,
Heu ſocio peritura mundo.
Mox aequa tellus, mox ſubitus viror
Ubique rident: En teretem Globum!
En laeta vernantis Favonî
Flamina, perpetuóſque flores!
O pectus ingens! O animum gravem,
Mundi capacem! ſi bonus auguror,
Te, noſtra quo tellus ſuperbit,
Accipiet renovata civem.
Jo. Addiſon,

AN ODE To the Learned Dr. Thomas Burnett, AUTHOR of The Theory of the EARTH.

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I.
NO common Height the Muſe muſt ſoar,
That wou'd thy Fame in Numberstry;
Nor dare in humble Verſe adore,
But riſe with Thee above the Sky,
You ask a bold and lofty ſtrain,
And what we meanly ſing, diſdain.
[01]II.
You Nature's early Birth explore,
Her diſunited Frame diſcloſe,
From what mix'd Cauſe, and jarring Power,
The Infant Earth to Being roſe:
How, in her Circling Boſom ſleep
Th' impriſon'd Seas, and Bounded Deep.
III.
Reſolv'd great hidden Truths to trace,
Each Learned Fable you deſpiſe;
And, pleas'd, enjoy the fam'd diſgrace,
To think, and reaſon, ſingly wiſe:
Each Tale reject by Time allow'd,
And nobly leave the erring Crowd.
[11]IV.
Hark! from her weak Foundations tore,
The burſting Earth aſunder flies,
And, prop'd by yielding Seas no more,
The dreadful Crack alarms the Skies:
Whoſe Arches rent, their Weight forego,
And plunge in opening Gulphs below.
V.
Now ruſhing from their watry Bed,
The driving Waves diſdain a ſhore;
And with reſiſtleſs Force o'erſpread
That Orb, which check'd their Rage before:
While ſcattered o'er the foamy Tide,
All Nature's floating Ruins ride.
[12]VI.
New Heavens diſclos'd, the Silver Train
The SUN beneath their Waves admire;
And gliding thro' th' enlight'ned Main,
Gaze at each STAR'S diminiſh'd Fire.
Well pleas'd, the MOON'S bright Orb ſurvey,
Trembling along their Azure Way.
VII.
How ſtrong each Line, each Thought how great,
With what an Energy you riſe!
How ſhines each Fancy? with what Heat
Does every glowing Page ſurprize?
While ſpouting Oceans upward flow,
Or ſink again to Caves below.
[13]VIII.
As Nature's Doom you thus impart,
The moving Scene we ſcarce endure;
But, ſhrinking, ask our anxious Heart,
If on our Earth we tread ſecure?
Whoſe Fate unmov'd, as you perſue,
We ſtart and tremble but to view.
IX.
Yet theſe Remains, we now behold,
Which Tow'ring once in Hills aroſe;
Shall from a New and fairer Mould
A New and fairer Earth compoſe:
Which to her Fate ſhall Owe her Bloom,
And riſe more lovely from her Tomb.
[14]X.
Yet ſee This beauteous Fabrick end,
This Second Pride of Fate expire;
While guſhing from the Clouds deſcend
The Burning Storm, the Liquid Fire;
Where Worlds and Men conſuming lie,
And in One bright Confuſion Die.
XI.
Their naked Tops the Hills admire,
No longer white with fleecy Dew;
And as they moan the ſpreading Fire,
Add to the Flames diſſolving too:
While Rocks from melting Mountains flow,
And roll in Streams thro' Vales below.
[15]XII.
And now the Kindling Orbs on high
All Nature's mournful End proclaim;
When thy great WORK, (Alas!) muſt die,
And feed the rich victorious Flame:
Give Vigour to the waſting Fire,
And with the World TOO SOON expire.
XIII.
Once more her Bloom the Earth renews,
Smooth'd into Green, eternal Vales;
Her Glebe ſtill moiſt with fragrant Dews,
Her Air ſtill rich with balmy Gales:
No Change her Flowry Seaſons breed,
But Springs retire, and Springs ſucceed.
[16]XIV.
Oh ſay, Thou Great, Thou Sacred Name,
What Scenes Thy thoughtful Breaſt employ,
Capacious as that mighty Frame
You raiſe with Eaſe, with Eaſe deſtroy?
Each World ſhall boaſt thy Fame; and YOU,
Who charm'd the OLD, ſhall grace the NEW.
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AD D.D. HANNES, INSIGNISSIMUM MEDICUM & POETAM.

O QUI canoro blandiùs Orpheo
Vocale ducis carmen, & exitu
Feliciore luctuoſis
Saepe animam revocas ab umbris,
Jam ſeu ſolutos in numerum pedes
Cogis, vel aegrum & vix animae tenax
Corpus tueris, ſeu cadaver
Luminibus penetras acutis;
Opus relinquens eripe te morae,
Frontémque curis ſolicitam explica,
Scyphúmque jucundus require
Purpureo gravidum Lyaeo.
Nunc plena magni pocula poſtules
Memor WILHELMI, nunc moveat ſitim
Miniſter ingens, Imperîque
Praefidium haud leve, MONTACUTUS.
[18]Omitte tandem triſte negotium
Gravéſque curas, heu nimium pius!
Nec caeteros cautus mederi
Ipſe tuam minuas ſalutem.
Fruſtra cruorem pulſibus incitis
Ebullientem pollice comprimis,
Attentus explorare venam
Quae febris exagitet tumentem:
Fruſtra liquores quot Chymica expedit
Fornax, & error ſanguinis, & vigor
Innatus herbis te fatigant:
Seriùs aut citiùs ſepulchro
Debemur omnes, vitáque deſeret
Expulſa morbis corpus inhoſpitum,
Lent [...]mque deflebunt nepotes
(Reliiquias Animae) cadaver.
Manes videbis Tu quoque fabulas,
Quos pauciores fecerit Ars tua;
Suúmque victorem viciſſim
Subjiciet Libitina victrix.
Decurrit illi vita beatior
Quicunque Lucem non nimis anxius
Reddit moleſtam, urgétve curas
Sponte ſuâ ſatis ingruentes;
Et quem dierum lene fluentium
Delectat ordo, vitique mutuis
Felix amicis, gaudiiſque
Innocuis benè temperata.
Jo. Addiſon,

AN ODE TO Dr. HANNES, An Eminent PHYSICIAN and POET.

[19]
I.
WHILE flying o'er the Golden Strings,
You gently wake the tuneful Lyre;
Or tender, as when ORPHEUS ſings,
With ſofter Sounds the Harp inſpire:
Sad fleeting Ghoſts with Art conſtrain
Back to a kinder Life again.
[20]II.
Whether, in graceful Lays you ſhine,
And Verſe your eaſy Hours employ;
Or give the Soul, her mouldring Shrine
Decay'd, a Fairer to enjoy:
The Body, cold in Death, explore
Thy Skill could only, not reſtore.
III.
Awhile thy learned Toil decline,
Nor anxious more, in ſmiles allow
The Circling Glaſs, the Generous Wine,
T' unbend, and ſmooth thy chearful Brow:
Nor longer to thy ſelf ſevere,
In the rich Draught forget thy care.
[21]IV.
Now with thy Monarch's Glory fir'd,
Let Great NASSAU thy Thirſt inflame;
Or by his MOUNTAGUE* inſpir'd,
Record the Patriot's faithful Name:
By whoſe wiſe Arts, and watchful Pains,
HE Rules in Peace, in Safety Reigns!
V.
At length thy mournful Task forbear,
From ſad'ning Thoughts ſome reſpite find;
And while we bleſs thy pious Care,
Be to thy ſelf, in pity, kind:
Inſpir'd with your own Bleſſings, live;
Nor want Your ſelf that Bloom you give.
[22]VI.
In vain the Blood's tumultuous Tide,
And circling Stream your Hand reſtrains;
Taught o'er the Pulſes to preſide,
And well explore the bubbling Veins:
That with the Fever's ſwelling Heat
Glow more inflam'd, more fiercely beat.
VII.
In vain you try each Chymic Power,
Trace to its Spring the Sanguine Wave;
And kindly ſearch each healing Flower
For Helps to guard us from the Grave:
In endleſs Bloom to bid us live,
Which THOU, nor THEY (Alas) can give.
[23]VIII.
One certain Fate by Heaven decreed,
In ſpite of Thee we all muſt try;
When from her burſting Priſon freed,
The mounting Soul ſhall claim the Sky:
Our Sons muſt once lament our Doom,
And ſhed their Sorrows round our Tomb.
IX.
Thou too ſhalt with pale Horror ſee
The Fabled Ghoſts which glare below,
Which to the Shades, reſtrain'd by Thee,
In thinner Shoals, deſcending, flow:
And Death, whoſe Power you now defy,
Shall boaſt, her Conqueror can Die.
[24]X.
His Life alone is greatly bleſt,
Whom no intruding Griefs annoy;
Who ſmiles each happy Day, poſſeſt
Of chearful Eaſe, and harmleſs Joy:
Nor ſadly ſoothing his own Cares,
Augments himſelf the Weight he bears.
XI.
Pleas'd, with a few ſelected Friends,
He views each ſmiling Evening cloſe;
While each ſucceeding Morn aſcends,
Charg'd with Delights, unmark'd with Woes
In Pleaſures innocently gay,
Wears the Remains of Life away.
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ΠΥΓΜΑΙΟ-ΓΕΡΑΝΟ-ΜΑΧΙΑ, SIVE, PRAELIUM INTER PYGMAEOS & GRUES commiſſum.

PEnnatas acies, & lamentabile bellum
Pygmeadum refero: parvas tu, Muſa, cohortes
Inſtrue: tu gladios, mortémque minantia roſtra,
Offenſoſque Grues, indignantéſque puſillam
Militiam celebra; volucrúmque hominúmque tumultus.
Heroüm ingentes animos & triſtia bella
Pieridum labor exhauſit, verſúque ſonoro
Juſſit, & aeternâ numerorum aſſurgere pompâ:
Quis lectos Grajûm juvenes, & torva tuentem
Theſea, Quis pedibus velocem ignorat Achillem?
Quem dura Aeneae certamina, quem GULIELMI
Geſta latent? fratres Thebani, & flebile fatum
Pompei quem non delaſſavêre legentem?
[26] Primus ego intactas acies, gracilémque tubarum
Carmine depingam ſonitum, nova caſtra ſecutus;
Exiguóſque canam pugiles, Gruibuſque malignos
Heroas, nigriſque ruentem è nubibus hoſtem.
Quâ ſolis tepet ortu, primitiiſque diei
India laeta rubet, medium inter inhoſpita ſaxa
(Per placidam vallem, & paucis acceſſa vireta)
Pygmaeûm quondam ſteterat, dum fata ſinebant,
Imperium. Hîc varias vitam excoluêre per artes
Seduli, & aſſiduo fervebant arva popello.
Nunc ſi quis dura evadat per ſaxa viator,
Deſertóſque lares, & valles oſſibus albas
Exiguis videt, & veſtigia parva ſtupeſcit.
Deſolata tenet victrix impunè volucris
Regna, & ſecuro crepitat Grus improba nido.
Non ſic, dum multos ſtetit inſuperabilis annos
Parvula progenies; tum, ſi quis cominùs ales
Congredi, & immixtae auderet ſe credere pugnae,
Miles atrox aderat, ſumptiſque feroculus armis
Sternit humi volucrem moribundam, humeriſque reportat
Ingentem praedam; caeſóque epulatur in hoſte.
Saepè improviſas mactabat, ſaepè juvabat
Diripere aut nidum, aut ulciſci in prole parentem.
Nempe larem quoties multa conſtruxerat arte,
Aut uteri poſuiſſet onus, volucrémque futuram;
Continuò vultu ſpirans immane minaci
Omnia vaſtaret miles, foetúſque necaret
Immeritos, vitámque abrumperet imperfectam,
Cum tepido nondum maturuit hoſtis in ovo.
[27]
Hinc cauſae irarum, bella hinc, fatalia bella,
Atque acies letho intentae, volucrúmque virûmque
Commiſſae ſtrages, confuſáque mortis imago.
Non tantos motus, nec tam memorabile bellum
Maeonius quondam ſublimi carmine Vates
Luſit; ubi totam ſtrepitúque armiſque paludem
Miſcuit: hîc (viſu miſerabile!) corpora murum
Sparſa jacent juncis transfixa, hic gutture rauco
Rana dolet, pedibúſque abſciſſo poplite ternis
Reptat humi, ſolitis nec ſeſe ſaltibus effert.
Jamque dies Pygmaeo aderat, quo tempore caeſi
Poenituit foetûs, intactáque maluit ova.
Nam ſuper his accenſa graves exarſit in iras
Grus ſtomachans; omnéſque ſimul, quas Strymonis unda,
Aut ſtagnum Mareotidis, imi aut uda Cayſtri
Prata tenent, adſunt; Scythicâque excita palude,
Et conjurato volucris deſcendit ab Iſtro,
Stragéſque immenſas & vulnera cogitat abſens,
Exacuitque ungues ictum meditata futurum,
Et roſtrum parat acre, fugaeque accommodat alas.
Tantus amor belli, & vindictae arrecta cupido.
Ergò ubi ver nactus proprium, ſuſpenſus in alto
Aëre concuſſis exercitus obſtrepit alis,
Terraeque immenſos tractus, ſemotáque longè
Aequora deſpiciunt, Boreámque & nubila tranant
Innumeri. Crebro circùm ingens fluctuat aether
Flamine, & aſſiduus miſcet coelum omne tumultus.
Nec minor in terris motus, dum bella faceſſit
Impiger, inſtituitque agmen, firmátque phalangas,
Et furit arreptis animoſus homuncio telis:
[28] Donec turma duas compôſta excurrat in alas,
Ordinibáſque frequens, & marte inſtructa perito.
Jamque acies inter medias ſeſe arduus infert
Pygmeadum ductor, qui majeſtate verendus,
Inceſſáque gravis, reliquos ſupereminet omnes
Mole Giganteâ, mediámque aſſurgit in ulnam.
Torvior aſpectu (hoſtilis nam inſculpſerat unguis
Ore cicatrices) vultúque oſtentat honeſta
Roſtrorum ſigna, & crudos in pectore morſus.
Immortali odio, aeterniſque exercuit iris
Alituum Gentem, non illum impunè volucris
Aut ore, aut pedibus peteret confiſus aduncis.
Fatalem quoties Gruibus diſtrinxerat enſem,
Truncavitque alas, celerique fugam abſtulit hoſti!
Quot fecit ſtrages! Quae nudis funera pullis
Intulit, heu! Quoties implevit Strymona fletu!
Jamque procul ſonus auditur, piceámque volantûm
Proſpectant nubem, bellúmque hoſtéſque ferentem.
Crebreſcit tandem, atque oculis ſe plurimus offert
Ordinibus ſtructus variis exercitus ingens
Alituum, motiſque eventilat aëra pennis.
Turba polum replet, ſpeciéque immanis obumbrat
Agmina Pygmaeorum, & denſa in nubibus haeret:
Nunc denſa, at patriis mox reddita rarior oris.
Belli ardent ſtudio Pygmaei, & lumine ſaevo
Suſpiciunt hoſtem; nec longum tempus, & ingens
Turba Gruum horrifico ſeſe ſuper agmina lapſu
Praecipitat gravis, & bellum ſperantibus infert.
Fit fragor; avulſae volitant circum aëra plumae.
Mox defeſſa iterum levibus ſeſe eripit alis,
[29] Et vires reparata iterum petit impete terras.
Armorum pendet fortuna: hîc fixa volucris
Cuſpide, ſanguineo ſeſe furibunda rotatu
Torquet agens circùm, roſtr [...]mque intendit in hoſtem
Imbelle, & curvos in morte recolligit ungues.
Pygmaei hîc ſtillat lentus de vulnere ſanguis,
Singultúſque ciet crebros, pedibúſque puſillis
Tundit humum, & moriens unguem execratur acutum.
Aeſtuat omne ſolum ſtrepitu, tepidóque rubeſcit
Sanguine, ſparguntur gladii, ſparguntur & alae,
Unguéſque & digiti, commiſtáque roſtra lacertis.
Pygmeadum ſaevit, mediiſque in millibus ardet,
Ductor, quem latè hinc atque hinc pereuntia cingunt
Corpora fuſa Gruum; mediâque in morte vagatur,
Nec plauſu alarum, nec roſtri concidit ictu.
Ille Gruum terror, illum denſiſſima circum
Miſcetur pugna, & bellum omne laborat in uno:
Cùm, ſubito appulſus (ſic Dî voluêre) tumultu
Ex inopino ingens & formidabilis Ales
Comprendit pedibus pugnantem; & (triſte relatu)
Suſtulit in coelum; Bellator ab unguibus haeret
Pendulus, agglomerat ſtrepitu globus undique denſus
Alituum; fruſtra Pygmaei lumine maeſto
Regem inter nubes lugent, ſolitóque minorem
Heroem aſpiciunt Gruibus plaudentibus eſcam.
Jamque recrudeſcit bellum, Grus deſuper urget
Pygmaeum roſtro, atque hoſtem petit ardua morſu;
Tum fugit alta volans; is ſursùm brachia jactat
Vulneris impatiens, & inanes ſaevit in auras.
Talis erat belli facies, cum Pelion ingens
[30] Mitteret in coelum Briareus, ſolióque Tonantem
Praecipitem excuteret; ſparguntur in aethere toto
Fulmináque ſcopulique: flagrantia tela deorſum
Torquentur Jovis acta manu, dum vaſta Gigantum
Corpora fuſa jacent, ſemiuſtáque ſulphure fumant.
Viribus abſumptis penitùs Pygmeïa tandem
Agmina langueſcunt; ergo pars vertere terga
Horribili perculſa metu, pars tollere vocem
Exiguam; latè populus Cubitalis oberrat.
Inſtant à tergo volucres, lacerántque trahúntque
Immites, certae gentem extirpare nefandam.
Sic Pygmaei domus multos dominata per annos,
Tot bellis defuncta, Gruum tot laeta triumphis,
Fundit [...]s interiit: Nempe exitus omnia tandem
Certus Regna maner, ſunt certi denique fines,
Quos ultra tranſire nefas: ſic corruit olim
Aſſyriae Imperium, ſic magnae Perſidis imis
Sedibus everſum eſt, & majus utroque Latinum.
Elyſii valles nunc agmine luſtrat inani,
Et veterum Heroum miſcetur grandibus umbris
Plebs parva: aut, ſi quid fidei mereatur anilis
Fabula, Paſtores per noctis opaca puſillas
Saepe vident umbras, Pygmaeos corpore caſſos.
Dum ſecura Gruum, & veteres oblita labores,
Laetitiae penitùs vacat, indulgétque choreis,
Anguſtóſque terit calles, viridéſque per orbes
Turba levis ſalit, & Lemurum cognomine gauder.
Jo. Addiſon, M.A.

THE BATTEL OF THE PYGMIES and CRANES.

[31]
THE Feather'd Warriors, and the Pigmy-State,
Record, Oh Muſe! their Battels, and their Fate.
Sing their great Wars, and as their Troops engage,
Guide the low Heroes, and direct their Rage.
[32] Here Swords all flaming for the Fight diſplay;
There Beaks as vengeful, and as keen as they:
Dreadfully mingling in one lofty Strain,
The Pygmies Courage, and the Foes Diſdain.
While Birds and Men in dire dread Conflicts try
The Earth's Command, and Empire of the Sky.
Already fair in Verſe each Warrior's Name,
The Muſe has greatly ſung, and paid with Fame.
His hardy Toil with Tranſport each admires,
The Poet riſing, as the Chief inſpires.
To diſtant Time the Muſe has handed down
The Graecian Valour, and her Youths Renown.
How ſternly brave in Fight great THESEUS glows;
How ſwift ACHILLES drives upon his Foes.
[33] AENEAS' Fame with Wonder we peruſe,
And WILLIAM'S wreaths are green in ev'ry Muſe.
While Theban Chiefs, and POMPEY'S mournful Name,
Weary each Eye, and tire us with their Fame.
My bolder Muſe, unſung in antient Lays,
New Battels ranges, and new Camps ſurveys;
In Verſe the Trumpet's Silver Sound deſcribes,
And fatal to the Cranes, the Pygmy Tribes.
Dark thro' the Air, while hov'ring Nations flow,
And from the Clouds deſcends the Feather'd Foe.
Where happy India boaſts a warmer Ray,
And, ſmiling, bluſhes at the Birth of Day:
Embrac'd by Rocks, a flow'ry Vale is ſeen,
By Few frequented, and for ever green.
[34] Here high in Fame (till Heaven that Fame withſtand)
The ſpreading Pygmy Nations wide command;
By various Arts a frugal Life ſuſtain,
While lab'ring Millions throng each crowded Plain.
But now their Deſart Realms, as we deſcry,
Untill'd their Vales, their Bowers unpeopled lye.
While Bones of mighty Dwarfs, and Warriors ſlain,
Strike ev'ry Eye, and whiten all the Plain.
Theſe Realms are now by Victor-Cranes poſſeſt;
There ſafe they triumph in each airy Neſt.
Not thus they moan'd their Country's Fate of old,
When Subject States their Monarchs Arm controul'd.
[35] The Soldier then, when e'er the Foe drew near,
Graſp'd hard his Sword, and, dreadful, ſhook his Spear:
Till gaſping now, and breathleſs on the Ground,
Deep in his Breaſt he drives the deadly Wound.
His Shoulders ſcarce the pond'rous Spoil convey,
Alive his Terror, and, when dead, his Prey.
Oft in the Grove her curious Manſions hung,
His Rage o'erthrows, and ſlays the Crying Young.
The Mother-Bird, from far, beholds with Pain
Her Kingdoms rifled, and her Infants ſlain;
Whoſe little Lives their Parents Guilt atone
For Crimes alas! expiring, not their own.
His Breaſt no Pity to their Cries will give;
Doom'd by his Sword to dye, before they live;
E'er yet a Form th' imperfect Young enjoys;
And in the Egg the future Foe deſtroys.
[36]
From this dire Spring immortal Diſcords roſe,
Which wrought the Sons of Fame unnumber'd Foes:
While warring Troops diſturb the Earth and Sky,
And Birds, and Men, confus'd together, dye.
Leſs Tumults from leſs noble Cauſes ſprung,
The Graecian Bard of old ſublimely ſung.
While Thund'ring Arms, and meeting Hoſts around,
Mix in one Noiſe, and all the Lake* confound.
Here ſcatter'd o'er the bloody Plains are laid
Expiring Mice, by Bulruſh-Spears deſtroy'd:
[37] There limping Frogs, diſtain'd with gen'rous Gore,
In deep hoarſe Plaints their abſent Limbs deplore:
Unactive now, forget their ſpringing Bound,
And hardly trail their ſluggiſh Weight along the Ground.
Now the great Morn her Light began diſcloſe:
That Morn, which fatal to the Pygmies roſe,
When they ſhall rue the Raſhneſs of their Guilt,
And wiſh the Young unſlain, the Egg unſpilt.
For this the vengeful Sires in War engage,
Burn with Revenge, and call forth all their Rage;
[38] Sad with Regret, they ſummon from afar
Wide diſtant Nations to the airy War.
What Troops remote Strymonian Waters breed,
And o'er Caiſters flow'ry Meadows feed:
What hardy Bands the Scythian Lakes ſupply,
Or pour'd from Iſter's Banks obſcure the Sky;
Confed'rate join—with Slaughter all around
Their Boſomsſwell, and, abſent, ſeem to wound.
Each whet their Talons, and their Beaks prepare
To gore the Battel, and confuſe the War.
For ſpeedy Flight the ſounding Pinions dreſt,
Such Thirſt of Vengeance heaves each Warrior's Breaſt.
Now Spring arriv'd, the gath'ring Troops on high
Cut the mid Air, and ſail along the Sky.
[39] Beneath their Wings as they ſublimely ſoar,
Wide Empires ſtretch, and wider Oceans roar.
Thro' the bleak North as they their Legions guide,
The Day grows darker, and the Clouds divide.
Fan'd with the Blaſt, and trembling as they fly,
A loud deep Murmur runs along the Sky.
Nor leſs on Earth the Pygmy Fury glows,
Whoſe Chiefs for Fight the Martial Troops diſpoſe,
Direct the War—and as the Foe draws near,
Each gripes his Sword, and, eager, ſhakes his Spear.
While cloſely wedg'd, and dreadful to the Foe,
Their double Battel hides the Plain below.
[40]
And now the MONARCH of the Pygmy Throng,
Advancing, ſtalks with ample Strides along;
Slowly he moves, Majeſtically tall;
Tow'rs o'er his Subjects, and o'erlooks 'em all.
A Giant-Pygmy, whoſe high Spirits ſwell,
Elated with the Size of half an Ell.
Stern was his Viſage—for his Face all o'er
Of Savage Clans the dire Impreſſions bore;
And ſeam'd with ghaſtly Wounds his manly Breaſt;
Still own'd the Foe, and ſtill the Nails confeſt.
Hence Wrath, immortal Wrath, his Boſom fir'd
To quell the Nations, and his Fall conſpir'd:
Who join'd in Arms his Fury to reſtrain,
Whet keen their Claws, and plunge their Beaks in vain.
[41] Oft, as his Sword its Edge in Battel ſhows,
To lop a Pinion, and retard his Foes,
What Heaps of Dead, what Mountains of the ſlain,
What Slaughter reddens all the ſlipp'ry Plain?
While ſighing o'er Strymonian Lakes alone,
Sad Widows languiſh, and ſad Orphans moan.
Now broken Murmurs, ſounding from afar,
Preſage th' Approaches of the flying War.
Black with the Foe, the Clouds they now deſcry
Cleaving the Air, and marching thro' the Sky.
Wing'd Troops diſcloſing, as they wide unfold;
And what they heard aloft, they now behold.
In ſolemn State above, and ſtrict Array,
A dreadful Scene the hov'ring Troops diſplay.
[42] Their ſpreading War extends along the Skies,
And the fann'd Air before their Pinions flies.
All Heaven is crowded, and the dark'ning Foe,
Hung in the Clouds, obſcures the Camp below;
With gloomy Horror ſhades the nether Plain,
And Millions, ne'er to view their Native Groves again.
The Pygmy Troops beneath, in firm Array,
With eager Looks the hanging Foe ſurvey:
Up to the Clouds their vengeful Eyes they turn,
Demand the Fight, and for the Combat burn.
When lo! the Cranes, deſcending from on high,
Ruſh thro' the Air, and dart along the Sky.
[43] Amidſt his Ranks they drive their plunging Bands,
And give that Battel which the Foe demands.
Both Hoſts engage—dire deaf'ning Murmurs riſe,
And Clouds of Feathers floating fill the Skies.
The fainting Birds, their Vigour to repair,
Now leave the Field, and skim aloft in Air:
Their Strength renew'd, they ſhoot along the Plain,
Mix in the Fight, and urge the War again.
Each ſide an equal Part of Glory ſhares,
And Conqueſt yet for neither Hoſt declares.
Here a brave Warrior wounded as he flies,
In circling Eddies whirls around the Skies:
Still as the Foe his fruitleſs Vengeance tires,
Collects his Talons, and in Rage expires.
[44] There gently ſtreaming from the Heroes Veins,
A Pygmy's Gore the Purple Field diſtains;
Deep Murmurs from his heaving Heart reſound;
Panting he falls, and beats the bleeding Ground.
While Shades of Death o'erſpread his ſwimming Eyes,
Curſes the Foe's avenging Claws, and dies.
And now the Ghoſtly Fields of Death, all o'er
Confus'd with Noiſe, and warm with ſmoaking Gore;
From every Eye a ſoft Compaſſion draw;
Here ſhines a Sword, there ſprawls a trembling Claw:
[45] While copious Slaughter gluts the ſlipp'ry Plain
With Wings of Birds, and Limbs of Mortals ſlain.
The Pygmy-Chief, his Faulchion waving high,
Wide waſting drops—while Millions round him die.
Amidſt Ten Thouſand Deaths ſecure he ſprings,
Mocks their ſharp Beaks and perſecuting Wings.
To ſtop his waſting Sword, th' avenging Foe
In circling Troops around the Warrior flow.
[46] Dark o'er his Helmet thronging Legions ſpread,
And all the Battel rages round his Head.
When lo! a Crane, ſwift ſhooting from above,
(Such was the Will and dire Decree of JOVE)
Caught in his wounding Talons, as he flies,
Faſt gripes the Foe, and bears him thro' the Skies.
A Cloud of Birds the Captive-King ſurround,
Clap their glad Wings, and waft him from the Ground:
While bore aloft, and leſs'ning as he ſoars,
Each Pygmy views his Lord, and each deplores.
But ſigh in vain, their Monarch's Arm o'erpower'd,
Their Monarch vanquiſh'd firſt, and then devour'd.
[47]
But ſee the War once more revives on high,
Sounds thro' the Air, and ranges o'er the Sky.
The Pygmy's Sword around with Vengeance drove;
The Cranes diſdain, and gore him from above.
Then skim aloft; the ſprawling Chief with Pain
Shrinks from the Wound, and waves his Arm in vain.
Such was the War, when Mountains toſs'd on high,
Shook JOVE'S High Throne, and labour'd up the Sky.
While Heav'n and Earth a doubtful Fight prepare,
And Rocks and Thunders mingle in the Air.
[48] Till the wing'd Bolt, all flaming from above,
Launch'd from the dreadful red Right Hand of JOVE,
Confounds the War. His falling Rival's ſlain,
Gaſp o'er the Fields—and ſmoaking hide the Plain.
And now their Vigour ſpent, their Martial Fire
Glowing in vain, the Pygmy-Troops retire.
Pale with Deſpair they leave the fatal Field,
For Pity raiſe their ſhrill low Voice, and yield.
But fierce behind the Cranes perſue their way;
Dart from above, and tear the flying Prey.
Thro' Fields of Death the mangled Warriors chace,
And in one Battel end the faithleſs Race.
[49]
The Pygmy-Nation, thus ſo long renown'd,
O'erſpread with Lawrels, and with Trophies crown'd,
Reſigns her Fame—for Heaven and partial Fate
To Earth's great Empires fix one certain Date;
Aſſign the Period to each Nation's Fame.
Thus roſe, and thus expir'd th' Aſſyrian Name;
Thus ſunk (alike their Glory, and their Doom)
Thy Pride, O Perſia, and thy Grandeur, Rome.
Now mix'd with Shades of mighty Heroes ſlain,
The empty Troops o'erſpread th' Elyſian Plain:
And if th' important Story be allow'd,
Confirm'd by Fame, each Night the Fairy-Crowd,
[50] Unbody'd Forms, by wond'ring Shepherds ſeen,
Skim thro' the Gloom, and wanton o'er the Green.
With Schemes of War no more their Boſoms glow,
Forget their Labours, and their Feather'd Foe.
But ſportive now in wanton Dances round,
With narrow Tracks they mark the flow'ry Ground:
A greener Turf the verdant Ring ſupplies,
And in the Fairy-Name the Pygmy dies.
[]

BAROMETRI DESCRIPTIO.

QUà penetrat foſſor terrae caeca antra, metallo
Foecunda informi, rudibúſque nitentia venis;
Dum ſtupet occultas gazas, nummóſque futuros,
Eruit argenti latices, nitidúmque liquorem;
Qui nullo effuſus prodit veſtigia tractu,
Nec terram ſigno revolubilis imprimit udo,
Sed fractus ſparſim in globulos formam uſ (que) rotundam
Servat, & in teretes lapſans ſe colligit orbes.
Incertum quâ fit naturâ, an negligat ultrà
Perficier, jubar & maturus inutile temnat;
[52] An potius ſolis vis imperfecta relinquat
Argentum maleè coctum, divitiaſque fluentes:
Quicquid erit, magno ſe jactat nobilis uſu;
Nec Deus effulfit magis aſpectabilis olim,
Cùm Danaen flavo circum pretioſus amictu
Ambiit, &, gratam ſuadente libidine formam,
Depluit irriguo liquefactum Numen in Auro.
Quin age, ſume tubum fragilem, cui denſior aër
Excluſus; fundo vitri ſubſidat in imo
Argenti ſtagnum; ut pluvia impendente metallum
Mobile deſcendat, vel contr [...], ubi poſtulat aeſtus,
Prodeat hinc liquor emergens, & rurſus inane
Occupet aſcenſu, tubulúmque excurrat in omnem.
Jam coeli faciem, tempeſtateſque futuras,
Conſcia lympha monet, brumámque & frigora narrat.
Nam quoties liquor inſurgit, vitreóque canali
Sublatum nequeunt ripae cohibere priores;
Tum laetos ſperare dies licet, arva fatentur
Aeſtatem, & largè diffuſo lumine rident.
Sin ſeſe immodicùm attollens Argenteus humor,
Et nimium oppreſſus, contendat ad ardua vitri,
Jam fitiunt herbae, jam ſuccos flamma feraces
Excoquit, & languent conſumto prata virore.
Cum verò tenues nebulas ſpiracula terrae
Fundunt, & madidi fluitant ſuper aequora fumi,
[53] Pabula venturae pluviae; tum fuſile pondus
Inferiora petit; nec certior Ardea coelos
Indicat humentes, medias quando aetheris oras
Tranando, craſsâ fruitur ſublimiùs aurâ,
Diſcutit & madidis rorantia nubila pennis.
Nunc guttae agglomerant, diſperſas frigora ſtipant
Particulas, rarúſque in nimbum cogitur humor:
Prata virent, ſegetem foecundis imbribus aether
Irrigat, & bibulae radici alimenta miniſtrat.
Quin ubi plus aequo deſcendens unda metalli
Fundum amat, impatiens pluviae, metuenſ (que) procellam,
Agricolae caveant; non hoc impunè colonus
Aſpicit; oſtendet mox foeta vaporibus aura
Collectas hyemes, tempeſtatémque ſonoram.
At licet Argentum mole incumbente levatum
Subſidat, penitúſque imo ſe condat in alveô,
Caetera quaeque tument; everſis flumina ripis
Expatiata ruunt, ſpumantibus, aeſtuat undis
Diluvium, rapidique effuſa licentia ponti.
Nulla tacet ſecreta poli mirabile vitrum,
Quin varios coeli vultus & tempora prodit.
Antè refert, quando tenui velamine tutus
Incedes, quando ſperabis frigidus ignem.
Augurio hoc fretus, quanquam atri nubila coeli
Dirumpunt obſcura diem, pluviáſque minantur;
[54] Machina ſi neget, & ſudum promittat apertum,
Audax carpat iter nimbo pendente viator;
Nec metuens imbrem, poſcentes Meſſor ariſtas
Proſternat: terrae jam bruma incumbit inermis,
Frigoráque haud nocitura cadunt, feriúntque paratos.
Jo. Addiſon, A.B.

THE BAROMETER: OR, WEATHER-GLASS.

[]
IN thoſe dark Caverns of the teeming Earth,
Where Nature gives to various Metals Birth:
Where maſſy Bars of Oar unfaſhion'd lay,
And her Veins glitter with a ruddy Ray;
[56] There, as the wond'ring Workman views the Mine
With ſecret Riches fraught, and future Coin,
His Hands a ſhining Silver Fountain force,
That runs, and rowls unmarking of its Courſe.
No Signs, no moiſten'd Tracts of Earth betray
Or its firſt-flowing, or returning way;
Tho' broke, in gather'd Globes it ſtill appears,
And recollects it ſelf in rounded Spheres.
None know its Nature: whether greatly born,
The noble Fluid ſlow Perfection ſcorn;
And ripe, and finiſh'd in it ſelf, deſpiſe
Subliming Sun-light, and maturing Skies.
Or rather, if the Sun's imperfect Beam
Leave it a looſe, unripen'd Silver Stream,
[57] A Fluid Treaſure: Whatſoe'er it be,
It boaſts of Uſes of a high Degree.
But ſee the Fact: A Glaſſy Tube prepare,
And from the Veſſel pump the groſſer Air:
The Bottom let the Silver Lake ſupply,
Obſequious to the Motions of the Sky:
That ſo, when gath'ring Show'rs in Air depend,
The fluctuating Metal may deſcend.
And when the warmer, ſultry Heats adviſe,
The quick-emerging Liquor may ariſe,
Poſſeſs the Void, from ev'ry Diſtance paſs,
And leave, and fill, all Spaces of the Glaſs.
The Tube thus fix'd; the Conſcious Liquors tries,
And tells before the Temper of the Skies.
[58] In its bright Face you certainly behold
The diſtant Winter, and the future Cold.
For when the mounting Fluid upward tends,
And in the Glaſſy Channel high aſcends;
Then comes the Promiſe of ſerener Days,
A brighter SUN in purer Aether plays;
And laughing Fields confeſs the Summer Rays.
But if the Silver Stream by too great Weight
Swells much, and riſes to the top-moſt Height;
Then fade the wither'd Herbs, the Juices fly,
The Plants grow thirſty, and the Meadows die.
But when the breathing Earth thin Miſts exhales,
And murky Smoak depends on heavy Gales,
[59] Or ſlowly ſailing o'er the Surface low'rs,
The Cauſe, and Nutriment of future Show'rs:
Then from their Height the pond'rous Liquids flow;
Sink down, and form a Silver Lake below.
Obſervers draw not from the Bittourn's Play,
Surer Preſages of a weeping Day;
When the Bird mounts beyond her common Height,
And in the middle Aether ſhapes her Flight;
Sportful enjoys the miſty Clouds, and flings
The dropping Moiſture from her flaggy Wings.
But now the Cold produces new Effects,
The ſcatter'd Drops in ſhining Orbs collects.
Then Fields look green, in fruitful Show'rs the Rain
Soaks the dry Roots, and ſwells the teeming Grain.
[60]
But when the Streaming Metal's lucid Weight
Falls deeply down, and loves a lower State;
As if impatient of the Show'ry Skies,
Retires, and, fearful of the Tempeſt, flies.
That Sight, ye cautious Swains, obſerve with Skill:
Portentous Sign! and Ominous of Ill!
Soon will the pregnant Air her Vapours ſhow;
Winter come arm'd, and ſounding Whirlwinds blow.
But tho' the Fluid leſſer preſs'd ſubſides,
And almoſt all its Silver Subſtance hides:
Yet other things beyond their Limits ſwell,
Streams burſt their Banks, and mighty Floods rebel,
[61] In frothy Tides each boiling Deluge raves,
And Seas o'erflow with mad licentious Waves.
This wond'rous Glaſs a thouſand Truths diſplays,
And all the Secrets of the Skies betrays.
By this the Face of Heav'n is juſtly ſhown;
The Changes told, and all the Seaſons known.
This tells you when to truſt a loſe Attire,
And warns you when to hope a Winter Fire.
On this Prognoſtic Trav'lers may rely,
Tho' the Clouds gather, and obſcure the Sky,
And threaten Tempeſts to the doubtful Eye.
Yet if inſpecting of the ſure Machine,
The Glaſs deny, and promiſe it ſerene;
[62] Beneath the hanging Show'r they ſafe may go;
And fearleſs of the Rain the Swain may mow.
This faithful Glaſs the Wrath of Heav'n defies,
Makes Winter pointleſs, and diſarms the Skies:
Froſts, Colds, and Tempeſts, when by This prepar'd,
Fall Innocent, and meet us on our Guard.
[]

MACHINAE GESTICULANTES.

ADmiranda cano levium ſpectacula rerum,
Exiguam gentem, & vacuum fine mente popellum;
Quem, non ſurreptis coeli de fornice flammis,
Innocuâ melior fabricaverat arte Promotheus.
Compita quà riſu fervent, glomerátque tumultum
Hiſtrio, delectátque inhiantem ſcommate turbam;
Quotquot laetitiae ſtudio aut novitate tenentur,
Undique congreſſi permiſſa ſedilia complent.
Nec confuſus honos; nummo ſubſellia cedunt
Diverſo, & varii ad pretium ſtat copia ſcamni.
Tandem ubi ſubtrahitur velamen, lumina paſſim
Anguſtos penetrant aditus, quà plurima viſum
Fila ſecant, ne, cùm vacuo datur ore feneſtra,
Pervia fraus pateat: mox ſtridula turba penates
Ingreditur pictos, & moenia ſquallida fuco.
[64] Hic humiles inter ſcenas, anguſtáque clauſtra,
Quicquid agunt homines, Concurſus, Bella, Triumphos,
Ludit in exiguo plebecula parva Theatro.
Sed praeter reliquos incedit HOMUNCIO raucâ
Voce ſtrepens; major ſubnectit fibula veſtem,
Et referunt vivos errantia lumina motus;
In ventrem tumet immodicum; ponè eminet ingens
A tergo gibbus; Pygmaeum territat agmen
Major, & immanem miratur turba Gigantem.
Hic magnâ fretus mole, imparibúſque lacertis
Confiſus, gracili jactat convitia vulgo,
Et crebro ſolvit, lepidum caput, ora cachinno.
Quanquam res agitur ſolenni ſeria pompâ,
Spernit ſollicitum intractabilis ille tumultum,
Et riſu importunus adeſt, atque omnia turbat.
Nec raro invadit molles, pictámque protervo
Ore petit Nympham, invitóque dat oſcula ligno.
Sed comitum vulgus diverſis membra fatigant
Ludis, & vario laſcivit mobile ſaltu.
Saepe etiam gemmis rutila, & ſpectabilis auro,
Lignea gens prodit, nitidiſque ſuperbit in oſtris.
Nam, quoties feſtam celebrat ſub Imagine lucem,
Ordine compoſito Nympharum incedit honeſtum
Agmen, & exigui Proceres, parvique Quirites.
Pygmaeos credas poſitis miteſcere bellis,
Jamque, infenſa Gruum temnentes prelia, tutos
Indulgere jocis, teneriſque vacare choreis.
Tales, cùm medio labuntur fidera coelo,
Parvi ſubſiliunt Lemures, populúſque puſillus
Feſtivos, rediens ſua per veſtigia, gyros
[65] Ducit, & anguſtum crebro pede pulſitat orbem.
Manè patent greſſus; hinc fuccos terra feraces
Concipit, in multam pubentia gramina ſurgunt
Luxuriem, teneriſque vireſcit circulus herbis.
At non tranquillas nulla abdunt nubila luces,
Saepe gravi ſurgunt bella, horrida bella, tumultu.
Arma cient truculenta cohors, placidámque quietem
Dirumpunt pugnae; uſque adeò inſincera voluptas
Omnibus, & miſtae caſtigant gaudia curae.
Jam gladii, tubulique ingeſto ſulphure foeti,
Protenſaeque haſtae, fulgentiáque arma, minaeque
Telorum ingentes ſubeunt; Dant clauſtra fragorem
Horrendum, ruptae ſtridente bitumine chartae
Confuſos reddunt crepitus, & ſibila miſcent.
Sternitur omne ſolum pereuntibus; undique caeſae
Apparent turmae, civilis crimina belli.
Sed poſtquam inſanus pugnae deferbuit aeſtus,
Exuerintque truces animos, jam Marte fugato,
Diverſas repetunt artes, curáſque priores.
Nec rarò priſci Heroes, quos Pagina ſacra
Suggerit, atque olim peperit felicior aetas,
Hic parvâ redeunt ſpecie. Cano ordine cernas
Antiquos prodire, agmen venerabile, Patres.
Rugis ſulcantur vultus, prolixáque barbae
Canities mento pendet: ſic tarda ſenectus
TITHONUM minuit, cùm moles tota Cicadam
Induit, in gracilem ſenſim collecta figuram.
Nunc tamen unde genus ducat, quae dextra latentes
Suppeditet vires, quem poſcat turba moventem,
Expediam. Truncos opifex & inutile lignum
[66] Cogit in humanas ſpecies, & robore natam
Progeniem telo efformat, nexúque tenaci
Crura ligat pedibus, humeriſque accommodat armos,
Et membris membra aptat, & artubus inſuit artus.
Tunc habiles addit trochleas, quibus arte puſillum
Verſat onus, molique manu famulatus inerti
Sufficit occultos motus, vocémque miniſtrat.
His ſtructa auxiliis jam machina tota peritos
Oſtendit ſulcos, duri & veſtigia ferri:
Hinc ſalit, atque agili ſe ſublevat incita motu,
Vocéſque emittit tenues, & non ſua verba.
Jo. Addiſon, A.B.

THE PUPPET-SHOW.

[]
OF Trivial Things I ſing ſurprizing Scenes,
Crowds void of Thought, and Nations in Machines.
A Race Diminutive; whoſe Frames were built
Free from the Sacrilege of antient Guilt;
Who from a better new PROMETHEUS came;
Nor boaſt the Plunder of Coeleſtial Flame.
[68]
There, where facetious Andrew riſes high,
And draws the Peopled Street beneath his Eye;
With witty Jeſts the gaping Crowd derides,
Diſtorts their Muſcles, and fatigues their Sides.
All Sons of Mirth, the Gay, the Curious come,
Enter the Booth, and fill the ſpacious Room.
Not undiſtinguiſh'd are the Honours there;
But different Seats their different Prices bear.
At length, when now the Curtain mounts on high,
The narrow Scenes are open'd to the Eye;
Where Wire-Partitions twinkle to the Sight,
That cut the Viſion, and divide the Light.
Ingenious Artifice! of ſure Deceit,
Since naked Proſpects would betray the Cheat.
[69] And now the ſqueaking Tribe proceeding roams
O'er painted Manſions, and illuſtrious Domes.
Within this humble Cell, this narrow Wall,
Aſſemblies, Battels, Conqueſts, Triumphs, All
That Human Minds can Act, or Pride ſurvey,
On their low Stage, the Little Nation play.
But One above the reſt diſtinguiſh'd ſtalks;
A Hero, who in hoarſer Accents talks.
Large is the Buckle that his Veſt controuls;
His Mimic Eye with living Motion rowls.
His Belly turgid of enormous Size;
Behind his Back a Bulk of Mountain lies.
Huge, manly, tall, he frights the Pygmy-Court,
Who fly and wonder at his Giant-Port.
Audacious Hero He; who much relies
On his unequal Arm, and haughty Size.
[70] Of theſe Superior Gifts and Talents proud,
He mocks and rallies all the Leſſer Crowd:
Scatters his Satire round, and oft provokes
The Croud to Laughter by facetious Jokes.
E'en when ſome ſerious Action is diſplay'd,
And ſolemn Pomps in long Proceſſion made,
He uncontroulable, of Humour rude,
Muſt with unſeaſonable Mirth intrude:
Scornful he grins upon their Tragic Rage,
And diſconcerts the Fable of the Stage.
Sometimes the graceleſs Wight with ſaucy Air,
Makes rude Approaches to the painted Fair.
The Nymph retires, he ſcorns to be withſtood,
And forces Kiſſes on th' unwilling Wood.
[71]
Not ſo his Fellows of inferior Parts,
They pleaſe the Theatre with various Arts,
Laſcivious Sport, in circling Turns advance,
And tire their little Limbs in active Dance.
Sometimes the Wooden People you behold,
Attir'd in rich Array of figur'd Gold:
Rows of diſſembled Jewels blaze around,
And Robes of Tyrian Purple ſtain the Ground.
For when their Tribes in Pageantry diſplay
The Mimic Grandeur of ſome Solemn Day,
The painted Nymphs proceed a comely Train,
In Order juſt, and brighten all the Plain.
Nobles of Stature ſmall attract the Eyes,
And laſt the Commons of an humbler Size.
[72] The pleas'd Spectator, as theſe Scenes he views,
The Pygmy-Nation in his Mind renews:
He fancies now the Cranes Invaſions ceaſe;
Their warlike Souls are ſoften'd by a Peace,
And now ſecure in guiltleſs Sports they play,
Laugh down the Sun, and dance away the Day.
Thus, when the Stars obtain their Midnight Sphere,
A Race like theſe of Human Form appear;
The Fairy Train, that dancing in the Dark,
Return in Circles, and their Footſteps mark:
The merry Goblins, conſtant to the Round,
In meaſure trip, and beat the hallow'd Ground.
[73] The Morn betrays the Print. The fruitful Earth
From hence teems pregnant with a juicy Birth,
Luxuriant Growths of bolder Graſs are ſeen,
That riſe in Circles of a deeper Green.
Yet O! ſome Clouds obſcure their peaceful Days,
Wars, horrid Wars, diſaſtrous Tumults raiſe.
The Joys of Peace are broke by rough Alarms,
Their Troops breath Slaughter, and prepare for Arms.
So inſincere is mortal Bliſs! ſo ſure
Care blends our Joys, and makes them all impure!
[74] Now Swords, and warring Arms the Proſpect mar,
Protended Spears that glitter from afar,
And ſulph'rous Tubes; dread Equipage of War.
The Din of Fight begins; a direful Sound
Flies thro' the Dome, and ſhakes the Walls around,
From the burſt Volumes ſputt'ring Sulphurs toſt
Promiſcuous Hiſs, and Sounds in Sounds are loſt.
Confuſion reigns; the Field of War beſpread,
Reveals, unhappy View! her Heaps of Dead:
Thick on all Hands, extended on the Stage,
Slain Troops appear, the Guilt of Civil Rage.
[75]
But when they have allay'd their Martial Ire,
And their calm Spirits breath a ſober Fire;
The War concluded. They reſume their Parts,
Repeat their former Toils, and various Arts.
Now oft the Heroes of the Sacred Page;
Great Souls! the Product of a better Age,
Redeem'd and reſcu'd from the ſilent Urn,
On this low Stage in Miniature return.
There may you ſee a venerable Band
Of Patriarch-Sires in hoary Order ſtand;
Their Faces furrow'd, as they once appear'd,
And their Chins cloath'd with Silver Lengths of Beard.
[76] So, long conſuming Age, from Day to Day,
Contracted TITHON by a ſlow Decay.
From waſting Stage to Stage he gradual paſt,
And ſunk into a Graſhopper at laſt.
Now ſing we, whence the Puppet-Actors came,
What hidden Power ſupplies the hollow Frame;
What cunning Agent o'er the Scenes preſides,
And all the ſecret Operation glides.
The Turner ſhapes the uſeleſs Log with Care,
And forces it a Human Form to wear:
With the ſharp Steel he works the Wooden Race,
And lends the Timber an adopted Face.
[77] Tenacious Wires the Legs and Feet unite,
And Arms connected keep the Shoulders right.
Adapted Organs to fit Organs join,
And Joints with Joints, and Limbs with Limbs combine.
Then adds he active Wheels and Springs unſeen,
By which he artful turns the ſmall Machine,
That moves at Pleaſure by the ſecret Wires;
And laſt his Voice the ſenſeleſs Trunk inſpires.
From ſuch a Union of Inventions came,
And to Perfection grew the Puppet Frame;
[78] The Workman's Mark its Origin reveal,
And own the Traces of the forming Steel.
Hence are its Dance, its Motions, and its Tone,
Its ſqueaking Voice, and Accents not its own.

THE RESURRECTION: A POEM.

[]
Venient cito Saecula, cum jam
Socius Calor oſſa reviſat,
Animataque Sanguine vivo
Habitacula priſtina geſtet.
Prud.

The FOURTH EDITION.

THE PREFACE.

[]

THE following Lines are eſteemed by the beſt Judges to be the fineſt Sketch of the Reſurrection, that any Age or Language has produced: Nor do their only Excellence conſiſt in being an accurate Poem; but alſo in being an exact Copy of the Painter's Original upon the Altar in Magdalen College; but ſo much improved with [82] all the ſtrongeſt Figures and moſt lively Embelliſhments of a Poetical Deſcription, that the Reader receives a double Satisfaction in ſeeing the two Siſter-Arts ſo uſeful to each other, in borrowing mutual Helps, and mutual Advantages.

It is, indeed, wonderful to find in the narrow Compaſs of ſo few Pages all the moſt dreadful Circumſtances of that laſt terrible Criſis of Time: The Poem is a beautiful and ſuccinct Epitome of all that has or can ever be ſaid on that important Subject; the very Text, which the ingenious Mr. Young has ſo largely and elegantly paraphras'd upon, in his excellent Poem on the LAST DAY.

[83] Mr. Addiſon is to be diſtinguiſh'd thro' all his Performances both Latin and Engliſh (and in his Latin, particularly in the following one, and that on the Peace of Reſwick,) by the Strength of his Images, and by a forcible and unaffected Vivacity of Expreſſion, which none of our Moderns have attain'd to in ſo much Perfection; and which is very rarely to be met with even in any of the Antients ſince Virgil and Horace.

Having mention'd Mr. Addiſon, I cannot avoid congratulating my Country on his Preferment to one of her greateſt Civil Employments; nor forbear obſerving how happy we are in a KING, who has ſhown the [84] World that he will diſtribute his Favours amongſt thoſe only, whom Merit and Virtue ſhall recommend to his Service.

With what uncommon Luſtre muſt that Man appear to Poſterity, who is not only the beſt Writer, and moſt candid Patron of the Age he lives in; but alſo the fineſt Gentleman, the ſincereſt Friend, the moſt affectionate Husband, the moſt accompliſh'd Stateſman, and the moſt exemplary Chriſtian? Under every one of theſe Views Mr. Addiſon gains the Eſteem and Admiration even of the bittereſt Enemies to that Cauſe which he ſo warmly eſpouſes, of the moſt furious Partiſans, and the moſt prejudic'd of Mankind.

[85] I muſt forbear to enlarge any farther on the Character of that truly great and good Man, leſt I draw upon my ſelf the Imputation of a Flatterer, by relating what all the World (except himſelf only) will allow to be the ſevereſt Truth.

I ſhall make no Excuſe for offering the following Poem to the World in an Engliſh DRESS, and under all the Diſadvantages of an imperfect Tranſlation. I have often read it in the Original with the greateſt Pleaſure and Satisfaction; and I hope it will need no Apology to be willing to communicate ſo uſeful and ſublime an Entertainment, [86] in the beſt manner I can, to thoſe of my Fellow-Subjects who are not qualify'd to read it in the Latin Original.

RESURRECTIO DELINEATA Ad Altare Coll. Magd. Oxon.

[]
EGregios fuci tractus, calamique labores,
Surgenteſque hominum formas, ardentiáque ora
Judicis, & ſimulacra modis pallentia miris,
Terribilem viſu pompam, Tu Carmine Muſa
Pande novo, vatique ſacros accende furores.
Olim Planitiem (quam nunc foecunda colorum
Inſignit Pictura) inhoneſto & ſimplice cultu
Veſtiit albedo, ſed nè rima ulla priorem
Agnoſcat faciem, mox fundamenta futurae
Subſtravit Pictor tabulae, humorémque ſequacem
[88] Per muros traxit; velamine moenia craſſo
Squallent obducta, & rudioribus illita fucis.
Utque (polo nondum ſtellis fulgentibus apto)
Nè ſpatio moles immenſa dehiſcat inani,
Per cava coelorum, & convexa patentia latè
Hinc atque hinc interfuſus fluitaverat Aether;
Mox radiante novum torrebat lumine mundum
Titan, & pallens alienos mitiùs ignes
Cynthia vibrabat; crebris nunc conſitus aſtris
Scintillare polus, nunc fulgor Lacteus omne
Diffluere in Coelum, longóque albeſcere tractu.
Sic, operis poſtquam luſit primordia Pictor,
Dum ſordet paries, nullúmque fatetur Apellem,
Cautiùs exercet Calamos, atque arte tenacem
Confundit viſcum, ſuccóſque attemperat, omnes
Inducit tandem formas; apparet ubique
Muta cohors, & Picturarum vulgus inane.
Aligeris muri vacat ora ſuprema Miniſtris,
Sparſáque per totam Coeleſtis turba Tabellam
Raucos inſpirat lituos, buccáſque tumentes
Inflat, & attonitum replet clangoribus orbem.
Defunctis ſonus auditur, tabulámque per imam
Picta graveſcit humus, terris emergit apertis
Progenies rediviva, & plurima ſurgit imago.
[89]
Sic, dum foecundis Cadmus dat ſemina ſulcis,
Terra tumet praegnans, animatáque gleba laborat,
Luxuriatur ager ſegete ſpirante, caleſcit
Omne ſolum, creſcitque virorum prodiga meſſis.
Jam pulvis varias terrae diſperſa per oras,
Sive inter venas teneri concreta metalli,
Senſim diriguit, ſeu ſeſe immiſcuit herbis,
Explicita eſt; molem rursùs coaleſcit in unam
Diviſum funus, ſparſos prior alligat artus
[...]unctura, aptanturque iterum coëuntia membra.
Hic nondum ſpecie perfecta reſurgit imago,
Vultum truncata, atque inhoneſto vulnere nares
Manca, & adhuc deeſt informi de corpore multum.
[...]aulatim in rigidum hic vita inſinuata cadaver
[...]otu aegro vix dum redivivos erigit artus.
[...]ficit his horror vultus, & imagine totâ
[...]uſa per attonitam pallet formido figuram.
Detrahe quin oculos Spectator, &, ora nitentem
[...] poterint perferre diem, medium inſpice murum,
Quâ ſedet orta Deo proles, Deus ipſe, ſereno
[...]umine perfuſus, radiiſque inſperſus acutis.
[...]rcum tranquillae funduntur tempora flammae,
[...]egius ore vigor ſpirat, nitet Ignis ocellis,
[...]urimáque effulget Majeſtas Numine toto.
Quantùm diſſimilis, quantùm ô! mutatus ab illo,
[90] Qui peccata luit cruciatus non ſua, vitam
Quando luctantem cunctatâ morte trahebat!
Sed fruſtrà voluit defunctum Golgotha Numen
Condere, dum victâ fatorum lege triumphans
Nativum petiit coelum, & ſuper aethera vectus
Deſpexit Lunam exiguam, Solémque minorem.
Jam latus effoſſum, & palmas oſtendit utraſque,
Vulnúſque infixum pede, clavorúmque recepta
Signa, & tranſacti quondam veſtigia ferri.
Umbrae hùc felices tendunt, numeroſáque coelos
Turba petunt, atque immortalia dona capeſſunt.
Matres, & longae nunc reddita corpora vitae
Infantûm, Juvenes, Pueri, innuptaeque Puellae
Stant circùm, atque avidos jubar immortale bibentes
Affigunt oculos in Numine; laudibus aether
Intonat, & laeto ridet coelum omne triumpho.
His Amor impatiens conceptáque gaudia mentem
Funditùs exagitant, imóque in pectore fervent.
Non aequè exultat flagranti corde Sibylla,
Hoſpite cùm tumet incluſo, & praecordia ſentit
Mota Dei ſtimulis, nimióque calentia Phoebo.
Quis tamen ille novus perſtringit lumina fulgor?
Quam Mitrâ effigiem diſtinxit Pictor, honeſto
Surgentem è tumulo, alatoque Satellite fultam?
Agnoſco faciem, vultu later alter in illo.
[91] WAINFLETUS, ſic ille oculos, ſic ora ferebat:
[...]heu quando animi par invenietur Imago!
Quando alium ſimilem virtus habitura!—
[...]ati innocuas ſecurus Numinis iras
[...]ſpicit, impavidóſque in Judice figit ocellos.
Quin age, & horrentem commixtis igne tenebris
[...]am videas ſcenam; multo hic ſtagnantia fuco
[...]oenia, flagrantem liquefacto ſulphure rivum
[...]ingunt, & falſus tantâ arte accenditur Ignis,
Ut toti metuas tabulae, ne flamma per omne
[...]ivida ſerpat opus, tenuéſque abſumpta recedat
[...]ictura in cineres, propriis peritura favillis.
[...]ùc turba infelix agitur, turpiſque videri
[...]frendet dentes, & rugis contrahit ora.
[...]index à tergo implacabile ſaevit, & enſem
[...]ulmineum vibrans acie flagrante ſceleſtos
[...]m Paradiſeis iterum depellit ab oris.
[...]eu! quid agat triſtis? quò ſe coeleſtibus iris
[...]ubtrahat? ô! quantùm vellet nunc aethere in alto
[...]irturem colere! at tandem ſuſpiria ducit
Nequicquam, & ſerò in lacrymas effunditur; obſtant
[...]rtes non revocandae, & inexorabile Numen.
Quàm varias aperit veneres Pictura! periti
Quot calami legimus veſtigia! quanta colorum
[92] Gratia ſe profert! tales non diſcolor Iris
Oſtendat, vario cùm lumine floridus imber
Rore nitet toto, & guttâ ſcintillat in omni.
O fuci nitor, ô pulchri durate colores!
Nec, Pictura, tuae langueſcat gloria formae,
Dum lucem videas, qualem exprimis ipſa, ſupremam.
Jo. Addiſon, A.B.
[]

F [...]ller Pinxit ad Alt: Coll: Magd: Oxon: Delin Mburg. ſculpt. Univ. [...]

THE RESURRECTION: A POEM.

[]
THE Pencil's glowing Lines and vaſt Command,
And Mankind riſing from the Painter's Hand,
The awful Judge array'd in beamy Light,
And Spectres trembling at the dreadful Sight,
[96] To ſing, O Muſe, the pious Bard inſpire,
And waken in his Breaſt the Sacred Fire.
The hallow'd Field, a bare white Wall of late,
Now cloath'd in gaudy Colours, ſhines in State;
And leſt ſome little Interval confeſs
Its antient ſimple Form, and homely Dreſs;
The skilful Artiſt laid o'er every Part
The firſt Foundation of his future Art:
O'er the wide Frame his ductile Colours led,
And with ſtrong Primings all the Wall o'erſpread.
As e'er yon ſpangling Orbs were hung on high,
Leſt one great Blank ſhould yawn thro' boundleſs Sky,
[97] Thro' the wide heavenly Arch and trackleſs Road
In Azure Volumes the pure Aether flow'd;
The Sun at length burns out, intenſely bright,
And the pale Creſcent ſheds her borrow'd Light.
With thick-ſown Stars the radiant Pole is crown'd,
Of milky Glories a long Tract is found,
O'erflows, and whitens all the Heav'ns around.
So when the Ground-work of the Piece was laid,
Nor yet the Painter had his Art diſplay'd,
With ſlower Hand, and Pencil more divine,
He blends each Colour, heightens ev'ry Line;
[98] Till various Forms the breathing Picture wears,
And a mute Groupe of Images appears.
Celeſtial Guards the topmoſt height attend,
And Crouds of Angels o'er the Wall deſcend;
With their big Cheeks the deaf'ning Clarions wind,
Whoſe dreadful Clangors ſtartle all Mankind:
Ev'n the Dead hear; the lab'ring Graves conceive,
And the ſwoln Clod in Picture ſeems to heave:
Ten thouſand Worlds revive to better Skies,
And from their Tombs the thronging Coarſes riſe.
[99]
So when fam'd Cadmus ſow'd the fruitful Field,
With pregnant Throws the quicken'd Furrow ſwell'd:
From the warm Soil ſprung up a warlike Train,
And Human Harveſts cover'd all the Plain.
And now from ev'ry Corner of the Earth
The ſcatter'd Duſt is call'd to ſecond Birth;
Whether in Mines it form'd the rip'ning Maſs,
Or humbly mix'd, and flouriſh'd in the Graſs.
The ſever'd Body now unites again,
And kindred Atoms rally into Men:
The various Joints reſume their antient Seats,
And ev'ry Limb its former Task repeats.
[100] Here an imperfect Form returns to Light,
Not half renew'd, diſhoneſt to the Sight;
Maim'd of his Noſe appears his blotted Face,
And ſcarce the Image of a Man we trace.
Here by Degrees infus'd, the vital Ray
Gives the firſt Motion to the panting Clay:
Slow to new Life the thawing Fluids creep,
And the ſtiff Joints wake heavily from Sleep.
Here on the guilty Brow pale Horrors glare,
And all the Figure labours with Deſpair.
From Scenes like theſe now turn thy wond'ring Sight,
And if thou canſt withſtand ſuch Floods of Light,
[101] Look! where thy SAVIOUR fills the middle Space,
The SON of GOD, true Image of his Face,
Himſelf eternal GOD, e'er Time began her Race.
See! what mild Beams their gracious Influence ſhed,
And how the pointed Radiance crowns his Head!
Around his Temples lambent Glories ſhine,
And on his Brow ſits Majeſty Divine;
His Eye-balls lighten with Celeſtial Fires,
And ev'ry Grace to ſpeak the God conſpires.
But ah! how chang'd, ah! how unlike the ſame
From Him, who patient wore the Mortal Frame;
[102] Who thro' a Scene of Woes drew painful Breath,
And ſtruggled with a ſad, ſlow, long-drawn Death:
Who gave on Golgotha the dreadful Groan,
Bearer of other's Sins, and Suff'rings not his own.
But Death and Hell ſubdu'd, the Deity
Aſcends Triumphant to his native Sky;
And riſing far above th' Aethereal Height,
The Sun and Moon diminiſh to his Sight.
And now to View he bare'd his bleeding ſide,
And his pierc'd Hands and Feet, in Crimſon dy'd;
Still did the Nails the recent Scars reveal,
And bloody Tracks of the transfixing Steel.
Hither in Crouds the Bleſſed ſhape their Flight,
And throng the Manſions of immortal Light;
[103] The menial Twelve, * an ever faithful Band,
Around their Maſter ſit on either Hand;
Each Martyr-Saint in Glory ſhines confeſt,
Immortal Pleaſures ruſhing to his Breaſt;
Sees Worlds up-riſing from the ſilent Tomb
To final Judgment and eternal Doom;
They mark each fatal Word, each dreadful Nod;
And bleſs the Righteous Sentence of their GOD.
The fruitful Matron and the ſpotleſs Maid,
And Infants, with a longer Life repaid,
Stand round; and drinking in Celeſtial Rays,
On their REDEEMER fix with ardent Gaze,
And all the Heav'ns reſound with Hymns of Praiſe.
[104] Each Boſom kindles with Seraphic Joy,
And conſcious Extacies the Soul employ.
Not equal Raptures ſwell the Sybil's Breaſt,
When by the inmate Deity poſſeſs'd;
When Phoebus the Prophetic Maid inſpires,
And her Limbs tremble with convulſive Fires.
But whence this ſudden Blaze of dazling Light!
What Mitred Brow is that, which greets my Sight?
Forth from a ſtately Tomb I ſee him Riſe,
And mount with Guards of Angels to the Skies.
I know the Form—alike the Look and Mien,
Another WAINFLET* in his Face is ſeen.
[105] When will, alas! ſuch ſpotleſs Worth be found?
When will a Mind with equal Virtues crown'd?
Fearleſs he ſees Almighty Vengeance riſe,
And fixes on his GOD his guiltleſs Eyes.
But now far different Scenes our Wonder claim,
Horrent with Darkneſs and Malignant Flame;
The labour'd Wall deluſive Picture hides,
And liquid Sulphur rolls in burning Tides:
So ſtrong, ſo fierce, the painted Flames ariſe,
The pale Spectator views them with Surprize:
Believes the blazing Wall indeed to burn,
And fears the Frame ſhould into Aſhes turn.
[106] Hither in ghaſtly Crouds the Guilty haſte,
Obſcene with Horror, and with Shame defac'd:
With haggard Looks the gloomy Fiends appear,
They gnaſh their foamy Teeth, and frown ſevere.
A ſtern Avenger with relentleſs Mind,
Waving a flamy Faulchion, ſtalks behind;
With which, as once from Paradiſe he drove,
He drives the Sinner from the Joys above.
What ſhall he do forlorn? or whither fly,
To ſhun the Ken of an All-ſeeing Eye?
What would he give among the Juſt to ſhine,
And fall before Omnipotence Divine?
[107] But oh! too late in Sighs he vents his Woe,
Too late his Eyes with guſhing Tears o'erflow!
Vain are his Sighs, and fruitleſs are his Tears,
Vengeance and Juſtice ſtop th' Almighty's Ears.
See! with what various Charms the Piece is fraught,
And with what pregnant Marks of Judgment wrought!
With how much Grace the living Colours glow!
Not brighter Colours paint the watry Bow;
When the freſh Show'rs her various Luſtre ſhare,
And ev'ry Drop with Spangles decks the Air.
[108]
O! may the Painter's Labours never fade,
Nor waſteful Time their ſhining Charms invade,
No envious Darkneſs ſhade the beauteous Tints,
Till the Piece ſees the LAST GREAT DAY it Paints.

SPHAERISTERIUM.

[]
HIC, ubi graminea in latum ſeſe explicat aequor
Planities, vacuóque ingens patet area campo,
Cùm ſolem nondum fumantia prata fatentur
Exortum, & tumidae pendent in gramine guttae,
Improba falx noctis parva incrementa prioris
Deſecat, exiguam radens à ceſpite meſſem:
Tum motu aſſiduo ſaxum verſatile terram
Deprimit extantem, & ſurgentes atterit herbas.
Lignea percurrunt vernantem turba palaeſtram
Uncta, nitens oleo, formae quibus eſſe rotundae
Artificis ferrum dederat, faciliſque moveri.
Nè tamen offendant incauti errore globorum,
[110] Quaeque ſuis inciſa notis ſtat ſphaera; ſed unus
Hanc vult, quae infuſo multùm inclinata metallo
Vertitur in gyros, & iniquo tramite currit;
Quin alii diverſa placet, quam parciùs urget
Plumbea vis, motúque ſinit procedere recto.
Poſtquàm ideò in partes turbam diſtinxerat aequas
Confilium, aut ſors: quiſque ſuis accingitur armis.
Evolat Orbiculus, quae curſum meta futurum
Defignat; jactique legens veſtigia, primam,
Qui certamen init, ſphaeram demittit, at illa
Leniter effuſa, exiguum quod ducit in Orbem,
Radit iter, donec ſenſim primo impete feſſo
Subſiſtat; ſubitò Globus emicat alter & alter.
Mox ubi funduntur latè agmina crebra minorem
Sparſa per Orbiculum, ſtipántque frequentia metam,
Atque negant faciles aditus; jam cautiùs exit,
Et leviter ſeſe inſinuat revolubile lignum.
At ſi fortè globum, qui miſit, ſpectat inertem
Serpere, & impreſſum ſubitò langueſcere motum,
Ponè urget Sphaerae veſtigia, & anxius inſtat,
Objurgátque moras, currentique imminet orbi.
Atque ut ſegnis honos dextrae ſervetur, iniquam
Incuſat terram, ac ſurgentem in Marmore nodum.
[111]
Nec riſus tacuere, globus cùm volvitur actus
Infami jactu, aut nimium veſtigia Plumbum
Allicit, & Sphaeram à recto trahit inſita virtus.
Tum qui projecit, ſtrepitus effundit inanes,
Et, variam in ſpeciem diſtorto corpore, falſos
Increpat errores, & dat convitia ligno.
Sphaera ſed, irarum temnens ludibria, coeptum
Pergit iter, nulliſque movetur ſurda querelis.
Illa tamen laudes ſummúmque meretur honorem,
Quae non dirumpit curſum, abſiſtitque moveri,
Donec turbam inter crebram dilapſa ſupremum
Perfecit ſtadium, & metae inclinata recumbit.
Hoſtis at haerentem Orbiculo detrudere Sphaeram
Certat, luminibúſque viam ſignantibus omnes
Intendit vires, & miſſile fortiter urget:
Evolat adducto non ſegnis Sphaera lacerto.
Haud ita profiliens Elëo carcere pernix
Auriga invehitur, cùm raptus ab axe citato
Currentéſque domos videt, & fugientia tecta.
Si tamen in duros, obſtructa Satellite multo,
Impingant ſocios, confundátque orbibus orbes;
Tum fervit bilis, fortunam damnata cerbam,
Atque Deos atque aſtra vocat crudelia.—
[112]
Si verò incurſus faciles, aditúmque patentem
Inveniat, partóque hoſtis ſpolietur honore:
Turba fremit confuſa, ſoniſque frequentibus, Euge,
Exclamant Socii; plauſu ſtrepit omne Viretum.
Intereà feſſos inimico Sirius aſtro
Corripit, & ſalſas exudant corpora guttas;
Lenia jam Zephyri ſpirantes frigora, & umbrae
Captantur, vultúque fluens abſtergitur humor.
Jo. Addiſon, A.B.

THE BOWLING-GREEN.

[]
WHere ſmooth and level as the Summer Main,
A ſpacious Area opens on the Plain;
While with deſcending Dews the Herbage ſweats,
Nor feels the riſing Sun's intenſer Heats,
The ſharpen'd Scythe prevents the graſſy Height,
And reaps the ſcanty Harveſt of the Night:
[114] The rolling Stone renews its Morning Round,
To cruſh the ſpringing Turf, and ſink the knotty Ground.
And now the poliſh'd Globes, a num'rous Band,
Prepar'd for Motion by the Artiſt's Hand;
Glitt'ring with Oil, and ſplendid to the Sight,
O'er the ſoft, verdant Surface ſpeed their Flight.
But leaſt ſome Bowler ſhould his Caſt diſown,
By diff'rent Marks the diff'rent Orbs are known:
For Gameſters vary; ſome prefer the Bowl,
That byaſs'd wheels obliquely to the Goal:
While others will a diff'rent Choice approve
Of thoſe, which in a Line directly move.
[115] The choſen Numbers part on either ſide,
As, or Conſent, or doubtful Lots divide:
Each Chief aſſumes his Arms; when now behold
The Jack exulting o'er the Surface roll'd;
At which their miſſive Orbs the Bowlers aim,
And who arrives the neareſt, wins the Game.
The Leader poiſes in his Hand the Bowl,
And gently launches to the diſtant Goal:
The current Orb prolongs its circling Courſe,
Till by Degrees it loſes all its Force.
When now another o'er the Level bounds,
And Orb ſucceeding Orb the Block ſurrounds:
Scatter'd they lie, and barricade the Green,
That ſcarce a ſingle Bowl can paſs between.
[116] When now with better Skill, and nicer Care,
The dext'rous Youth renews the Wooden War,
Beyond the reſt his winding Timber flies,
And works inſinuating, and wins the Prize.
But if perchance he ſees, with Madneſs ſtung,
The lagging Wood move impotent along;
If its faint Motion languiſh on the way,
And, ſhort of Length, it preſs the verdant Lay:
Nimbly he ſtrides behind a-croſs the Graſs,
And bending hovers o'er the rolling Maſs;
Leaſt foul Diſgrace ſhould on his Arm redound,
He blames the Riſing-Rub and guilty Ground.
[117]
What ſudden Laughter echoes o'er the Green,
When ſome unlucky, artleſs Caſt is ſeen;
When the too pond'rous Lead with ſtubborn Force
Allures the Globe from its appointed Courſe?
The Bowler chafes, and fruitleſs Rage enſues,
His Body to a Thouſand Poſtures ſcrews:
He blames he knows not what, with angry Blood,
He frets, he ſtamps, and damns th' erroneous Wood:
Th' erroneous Wood his fruitleſs Rage diſdains,
And ſtill its former, wayward Courſe maintains.
[118]
But if a Bowl, diſmiſs'd with equal Strength,
Obtains exactly the intended Length,
And, nicely paſſing thro' the crouding Balls,
Prone on the paſſive Jack incumbent falls:
With loud Applauſe the ſplitting Heav'ns they rend,
And all the Caſter and the Caſt commend.
When now the adverſe Foe projects around
His careful Eyes, and marks the ambient Ground:
And, ſtudious the contiguous Globes to part,
He ſummons all his Strength and all his Art;
Th' exerted Vigour of his Nerves applies,
And rapid from his Arm the brandiſh'd Engine flies.
[119]
Scarce half ſo ſwiftly to th' Elëian Goal
With rival Speed the whirling Chariots roll;
While the fleet Axle mocks the lagging Wind,
And leaves the flying Village far behind.
When, if the Wooden Guards immure the Foe,
And break the Vengeance of the whirling Blow;
If the conflicting Orbs are driv'n around,
And, looſely ſcatter'd, ſtrew th' Olympic Ground:
He chides his Fate, his fervid Spleen boils high,
Calls the Gods falſe, and Damns the guilty Sky.
But if his Bowl with eaſy Paſſage ſlide,
And with a Claſh the wedded Orbs divide;
[120] His Partners ſhout, the Croud eſpouſe his Cauſe,
And the wide Plain re-murmurs with Applauſe.
Mean while the Dog-Star burns with ſultry Heat,
And ev'ry Limb is drown'd in briny Sweat:
They court the ſhady Breeze, and cool of Day,
And from their Temples wipe the trickling Drops away.
[]

PAX GULIELMI AUSPICIIS Europae reddita, 1697.

HONORATISSIMO VIRO CAROLO MONTAGUE ARMIGERO, SCACCHARII CANCELLARIO, AERARII PRAEFECTO, REGI à SECRETIORIBUS CONSILIIS, &c.
[]
[...]
[124]
[...]
[]
[...]
[]

CUM tanta auribus tuis obſtrepat vatum nequiſſimorum turba, nihil eſt cur queraris aliquid inuſitatum tibi contigiſſe, ubi praeclarum hoc argumentum meis etiam numeris violatum conſpexeris. Quantum virtute bellicâ praeſtent Britanni, recens ex rebus geſtis teſtatur gloria; quàm verò in humanioribus Pacis ſtudiis non emineamus, indicio ſunt quos nuper in lucem emiſimus verſiculi. Quòd ſi CONGREVIUS ille tuus divino, quo ſolet, furore correptus materiam hanc non exornâſſet, vix [124] tanti eſſet ipſa Pax, ut illâ laetaremur tot perditiſſunis Poëtis tam miſerè decantatâ. At, dum alios inſector, mei ipſius oblitus fuiſſe videor, qui haud minores forſan ex Latinis tibi moleſtias allaturus ſum, quàm quas illi ex vernaculis ſuis carminibus attulerunt; niſi quòd inter ipſos cruciatus lenimentum aliquod dolori tribuat tormenti varietas. Nec quidem unquam adduci poſſem, ut poëma patrio ſermone conſcriptum oculis tuis ſubjicerem, qui ab iſtis conatibus caeteros omnes ſcribendo non minùs deterres, quàm favendo excitaveris.

HUMANITATIS TUAE CULTOR DEVOTISSIMUS, JOSEPHUS ADDISON.
PAX GULIELMI AUSPICIIS Europae reddita, 1697.
[]
POſtquam ingens clamórque virûm, ſtrepitúſ (que) tubarum,
Atque omnis belli cecidit fragor; Aſpice, Caeſar,
Quae tibi ſolliciti, turba importuna, Poëtae
Munera deducunt: generoſae à pectore flammae,
Diraeque armorum effigies, ſimulachráque belli
Triſtia diffugiant: O tandem abſiſte triumphis
Expletus, penitúſque animo totum excute Martem.
[126]
Non ultràe ante oculos numeroſo milite campi
Miſcentur, ſolito nec fervent arva tumultu;
Stat circùm alta quies, curvóque innixus aratro
Deſertas foſſas, & caſtra minantia caſtris
Ruſticus invertit, tacitâ formidine luſtrans
Horrorémque loci, & funeſtos ſtragibus agros.
Jamque ſuper vallum & munimina longa vireſcit
Expectata ſeges, jam propugnacula rident
Vere novo; inſuetos mirabitur incola culmos,
Luxuriemque ſoli, & turgentem à ſanguine meſſem.
Aſpicis ut toto excitus venit Advena mundo
Bellorum inviſens ſedem, & confuſa ruinis
Oppida, & everſos flammarum turbine muros!
Ut trepidos rerum Annales, triſtemque laborum
Inquirit ſeriem, attonitis ut ſpectat ocellis
Semirutas turres, & adhuc polluta cruore
Flumina, famoſóſque ORMONDI vulnere campos!
Hîc, ubi ſaxa jacent diſperſo infecta cerebro,
Atque interruptis hiſcunt divortia muris,
Vexillum intrepidus (*) fixit, cui tempora dudum
Budenſes palmae, Peregrináque laurus obumbrat.
Ille ruens aciem in mediam, quà ferrea grando
Sparſa furit circùm, & plumbi denſiſſimus imber,
Sulphuream noctem, tetráſque bitumine nubes
Ingreditur, crebróque rubentem fulgure fumum.
Ut vario anfractu, & disjectis undique ſaxis
Moenia diſcedunt, ſcopuliſque immane minantur
Deſuper horrificis, & formidabile pendent!
[127]
Hîc peſtem occultam, & foecundas ſulphure moles
Cernere erat, magno quas inter mota tumultu
Praelia fervebant; ſubitò cùm clauſtra, fragore
Horrendùm diſrupta tonant, ſemiuſtáque membra,
Fumantéſque artus, laniatáque corpora lethum
Corripit informe, & rotat ater in aethere turbo.
Sic, poſtquam Enceladi dejecit fulmine fratres
Coelicolûm pater, & vetuit contemnere Divos:
Divulſam terrae faciem, ingentéſque ruinas
Mortales ſtupuere; altum hinc mirantur abeſſe
Pelion, invertique imis radicibus Oſſam;
Hîc fluvium moles inter confuſáque ſaxa
Reptare, atque aliis diſcentem currere ripis.
Stant dubii, & notos montes umbráſque requirunt,
Errore ambiguo eluſi, & novitate locorum.
Nempe hîc AURIACI nuper vexilla ſecutae
Confluxere acies, hîc, aſpera corda, Britanni,
Germanúſque ferox, & juncto foedere Belga,
Quique truci Boreae, & coelo damnatus iniquo
Vitam agit in tenebris, & qui dudum ore peruſto
Decolor admoti prodit veſtigia Phoebi,
Undique conveniunt, totum conſcripta per orbem
Agmina, N [...]ssovique latus ſocialibus armis
Circumfuſa tegunt, fremitúſque & murmura miſcent,
Tam vario disjuncta ſitu, tot diſſona linguis.
Te tamen è mediis, (*) Ductor Fortiſſime, turmis
Exere, Tu vitam (ſi quid mea carmina poſſunt)
Accipies, populique encomia ſera futuri,
[128] Quem varias edoctum artes, ſtudiiſque Minervae
Omnibus ornatum Marti Rhedycina furenti
Credidit invita, & tanto ſe jactat Alumno.
Hunc nempe ardorem, atque immenſos pectoris aeſtus
Non jubar Arctoum, aut noſtri penuria coeli,
Sed plaga torridior, quà ſol intentiùs omnes
Effundit radios, totique obnoxia Phoebo
India progenuit, teneriſque incoxit ab annis
Virtutem immodicam, & generoſae incendia mentis.
Jam quoque torpentem qui infelix ſuſpicit Arcton,
Brumámque aeternam frigúſque perambulat, urſae
Horridus exuviis, GULIELMI ingentia facta
Deſcribit ſociis, pugnatáque in ordine bella
Attentus numerat, neque brumam aut frigora curat.
En! vaſtos nivium tractus & pallida regna
Deſerit, imperio extremum () Qui ſubjicit orbem,
Indigenáſque hyemes, Britonúmque Heroa pererrat
Luminibus tacitis; ſubeunt nunc fuſa Namurcae
Moenia, nunc tardo quae ſanguine plurima fluxit
Boinia, nunc dubii palma indiſcreta Seneffi.
Quae facies & quanta viri! Quo vertice in auras
Aſſurgit! Quali firmat veſtigia greſſu,
Majeſtate rudi, & torvo ſpectabilis ore!
Sic olim Alcides, immania membra Leonis
Inſtratus ſpoliis, vaſtâ ſe mole ferebat,
Evandri amplexus dextrámque adjungere dextrae
Cum peteret, tectiſque ingens ſuccederet hoſpes.
[129]
Dum pugnas, GULIELME, tuas, campóſque cruentos
Accipit, in venis ebullit vividus humor,
Corda micant crebrò, & mentem ferit aemulus ardor.
Non jam Riphaeos hoſtis populabitur agros
Impunè, aut agitabit inultas Sarmata praedas.
Quis tamen ille procul fremitus, Quae murmura vulgi
NASSOVUM ingeminant? video cava littora circùm
Fervere remigibus, ſubitiſque albeſcere velis.
Anglia ſolve metus, & inanes mitte querelas,
NASSOVI ſecura tui, deſiſte tumentes
Proſpicere in fluctus animo ſuſpenſa, trucéſque
Objurgare notos, tardamque requirere puppim:
Optatus tibi Caeſar adeſt, nec ut ante videbis
Sollicitum belli ſtudiis, fatalia Gallo
Conſilia & tacitas verſantem in pectore pugnas.
Olli grata Quies & Pax tranquilla verendum
Compoſuit vultum, lae [...]óſque afflavit honores.
Ut denſo circùm ſe plurimus agmine miles
Agglomerat lateri, ut patriam veteréſque penates
Reſpicit exultans! juvat oſtentare recentes
Ore cicatrices, & vulnera cruda, notáſque
Mucronum inſignes, afflatáque ſulphure membra.
Chara ſtupet conjux, reduciſque incerta mariti
Veſtigat faciem; trepidâ formidine proles
Stat procul, & patrios horreſcit neſcia vultus.
Ille graves caſus, duri & diſcrimina belli
Enumerat, tumidiſque inſtaurat praelia verbis.
Sic, poſtquam in patriam foecunda heroibus Argo
Phryxêam attulerat pellem, lanámque rigentem
Expoſuit Graiis, & tortile velleris aurum,
[130] Navita terrificis infamia littora monſtris
Deſcribit, mixto ſpirantem incendia fumo
Serpentem, vigiléſque feras, plauſtróque gementes
Inſolito tauros, & anhelos igne juvencos.
Te tamen, O quantis GULIELME erepte periclis,
Accipimus reducem, tibi Diva Britannia fundit
Plebémque & Proceres, medias quacunque per urbes
Ingrederis, crebrae conſurgunt undique pompae,
Gaudiáque & plauſus; mixto ordine vulgus euntem
Circumſtat fremitu denſo: Tibi Jupiter annum
Seriùs invertit, luces mirata ſerenas
Rider Hyems, feſtóque vacat coelum omne triumpho.
Jamque (*) Nepos tibi parvus adeſt, laetoque juventae
Inceſſu, & blando teſtatur gaudia riſu.
Ut Patrius vigor atque elati gratia vultûs
Caeſareum ſpirant, majeſtatémque verendam
Infundunt puero! ut Mater formoſa ſerenat
Auguſtam frontem, & ſublimia temperat ora!
Agnoſco faciem ambiguam, mixtóſque parentes.
Ille tuas, GULIELME, acies, & triſtia bella,
Pugnáſque innocua dudum ſub imagine luſit.
Nunc indignanti ſimilis fugitiva puſillae
Terga premit turmae, & falſis terroribus implet,
Sternitque exiguum ficto cognomine Gallum.
Nunc ſimulat turres, & propugnacula parva
Nominibus ſignat variis; ſubitóque tumultu
Sedulus infirmas arces, humilemque Namurcam
[131] Diruit; interea generoſae in pectore flammae
Aſſurgunt ſenſim juveni, notat ignis honeſtas
Purpureo fervore genas, & amabilis horror.
Quis tamen Auguſtae immenſas in carmine pompas
Inſtruet, in luteos ubi vulgo effuſa canales
Vina rubent, variátque infectas purpura ſordes?
Quis lapſus referet ſtellarum, & fictile coelum,
Quà laceram oſtendunt redolentia compita chartam,
Sulphuris exuvias, tubuloſque bitumine caſſos?
En procul attonitam video clareſcere noctem
Fulgore inſolito! ruit undique lucidus imber,
Flagrantèſque hyemes; crepitantia ſidera paſſim
Scintillant, totóque pluunt incendia coelo.
Nec minùs in terris Vulcanus mille figuras
Induit, ignivomáſque feras, & fulgida monſtra,
Terribiles viſu formas! hic membra Leonis
Hiſpida mentitur, tortiſque comantia flammis
Colla quatit, rutilaſque jubas; hic lubricus Anguem
Ludit, ſubſiliens, & multo ſibilat igne.
Laetitiam ingentem atque effuſa haec gaudia civis
Jam tandem ſecurus agit, poſitóque timore
Exercet ventos, claſſémque per ultima mundi
Impunè educit, pelagóque licentiùs errat.
Seu conſtricta gelu, medríſque horrentia Cancri
Menſibus arva videt; ſeu turpida malit olenti
Tendere vela noto, quà thurea flamina miſcet
Aeolus, & placidis perfundit odoribus auras.
Vos animae illuſtres heroum, umbraeque recentes,
Quarum trunca jacent & adhuc ſtillantia crudis
Corpora vulneribus, quibus haec optabilis orbi
[132] Parta quies, nondum NASSOVO abducite veſtro
Fida ſatellitia, at ſolitis ſtipate catervis
Ductorem, & tenues circùm diffundite turmas.
Túque MARIA, tuos non unquam oblita Britannos,
O Diva, O patiens magnum expectare maritum,
Ne terris Dominum invideas, quanquam ampliùs illum
Detineant, longámque agitent ſub vindice pacem.
Jo. Addiſon, A.M.

THE PEACE OF RESWICK.

[]
To the Honourable Charles Montague, Eſq Chancellor of the Exchequer, Firſt Lord-Commiſſioner of the TREASURY, and Privy-Councellor to the KING.
[]

SINCE your Ears are continually peſter'd by a wretched Set of Poets, you have no Reaſon to complain of any new Misfortunes [136] happening to you, when you ſhall find the following noble Subject debas'd by my Numbers. The Honour they have lately acquir'd by their Conqueſts, plainly ſhews how much the Engliſh excell all others in the Art of War; but how unequally low we are in the politer Studies of Peace, is evident from the Verſes we have lately publiſh'd.* If your Darling CONGREVE had not exerted his Divine Poetical Fury, with his uſual Happineſs, in the adorning of this Subject, [137] the PEACE it ſelf had been hardly worth our Joy, ſince it has been ſo miſerably celebrated by ſo many vile Poetaſters. But while I am blaming others, I may ſeem forgetful of my ſelf, who perhaps may give you as much trouble in my Latin Compoſitions, as they have before done in their Engliſh, unleſs the Variety of the Torment may bring ſome Mitigation to the Pain you are to ſuffer. For my part, I never could prevail upon my ſelf to offer you a POEM written in our Native Tongue, ſince you your ſelf deter all others by [138] your own Compoſitions from ſuch an Attempt, as much as you excite them by your Favour and Humanity. I am,

SIR,
Your moſt devoted, humble Servant, Joſeph Addiſon.
THE PEACE OF RESWICK.
[]
WHEN now the Tumult of the Battel dies,
No Shouts the Earth, no Trumpets wake the Skies;
Accept, Great Leader, what the Pious Throng
(Leſs dreadful Muſick, and a ſofter Song)
[140] To ſooth the Vengeance of thy Soul, inſpire,
And eaſe thy Boſom of its reſtleſs Fire.
Let Wars no more, all Nature huſh'd to reſt,
Nor Scenes of Ruin roll within thy Breaſt;
No Schemes of Death, delightful to thy Eyes,
Swell in thy Thoughts, and charm Thee as they riſe:
Already Fam'd, the Chaſe of Fame give o'er;
Nor, dark with Lawrels, ſhade thy Brows with more.
No more dire Camps a glitt'ring Horror yield,
Nor ſwarming Millions hide the crowded Field:
No Shouts or Tumults ſhake the ſounding Plain,
But downy Peace, and ſolemn Silence reign.
[141] With Furrows now the Peaſant all around
Cuts the wide Camp, and turns the Warlike Mound.
Now Rampires dreadful to the Foe deſcries,
Riſing aloft, and threat'ning as they riſe.
O'er Fields of Death the Waſte of War perſues,
Sighs the ſad Scene, and trembles as he views;
While richer Blades along the Bulwarks wave,
And Greens ariſe to ſtrew the Warrior's Grave.
Luxuriant Ears the fertile Glebe ſupplies,
The Harveſt bending, where the Hero dies.
See! diſtant Worlds invited from afar
To trace the Ruins of the finiſh'd War;
Wide gaping Walls, and ſhatter'd Towers admire,
O'erturn'd in Tempeſts of tumultuous Fire.
[142] Long Tracks of Death aſtoniſh'd they explore,
Now view the Warriors Toil, and now deplore;
While Streams of Blood each Current ſtill diſtain,
And ORMOND'S Wounds ennoble all the Plain.
Where you ſteep Rampires riſe with Slaughter Red,
Still moiſt with Gore, and crimſon'd with the Dead,
The * Chief his Standard fix'd, whoſe Temples round
Defended Buda, with her Lawrels bound.
Thro' thickeſt Troops he breaks his glorious Way,
And Floods of Fire in vain command his Stay.
[143] The burſting Shells aloft, and ſweeping Ball,
Around the Hero unregarded fall;
While thro' dark Flames he ruſhes to the Fight,
And Vapours, ſtreak'd with Lengths of ruddy Light.
See threat'ning once, and, dreadful, to behold
A ghaſtly Breach the yawning Tow'rs unfold;
Amazing ſtill the broken Ruins ſhow,
Enormous hang, and ſhade the Plain below.
Now treach'rous Caves beneath the Earth are found,
Where Beds of Sulphur ſwell the cavern'd Ground.
Here mingling Hoſts in vain their Courage try,
Guiltleſs of Death, yet doom'd, alas! to Die.
[] [...][] [...][142] [...][143] [...]
[144] For lo! the opening Mound aſunder flies,
And hurls at once whole Armies to the Skies;
While Limbs of mangled Heroes upward drove,
Shoot from the burſting Earth, and reek above.
The burning Troops abandon'd to Deſpair,
In Flames aſcend, and ſmoak along the Air.
So when the lifted Arm of angry JOVE
Drives the red Bolt, all flaming from above,
Perſues the Foe with Thunder down the Skies,
Nature's ſad Ruins all her Sons ſurprize;
Amaz'd they view her rugged Form, and moan
Great Pelion loſt, and Oſſa's Height o'erthrown.
Here Streams o'er craggy Rocks miſtake their way,
New Banks deſign, and thro' new Channels ſtray;
[145] The wild Confuſion all around admire,
Their former Hills, and vaniſh'd Shades require.
Here, led by WILLIAM'S Fortune and his Fame,
United Worlds to guard the Monarch came:
Fair Belgia's Sons the hardy Britons join,
And Nations nurſt beyond the ſounding Rhine;
While faithful Auſtria from her ſhining Tow'rs
Sends out by Millions her victorious Pow'rs:
With theſe, the eager Northern Bands conſpire,
And wanting PHOEBUS' Light, yet boaſt his Fire.
While ſwarthy Troops to the great Cauſe inclin'd,
Forſake the Day, and leave their Sun behind.
[146] From Climes remote, and diſtant Skies around,
Cloſe gath'ring Bands the pious KING ſurround;
By Nature parted, Worlds together join,
Unite the Frozen Pole, and burning Line;
Their Language diff'rent, yet their Swords agree,
All drawn alike for Freedom, and for THEE.
And THOU, Great * Chief, in War a dreaded Name,
Foremoſt in Dangers, as the firſt in Fame;
If Iſis to thy Worth a Life can give,
Thine ſhall elude the Grave, and ever live!
[147] While Arts and Arms to form thy Youth combine,
And both MINERVA'S in each Action ſhine:
With fond Reluctance ſhe reſigns her Prize
And gives Thee up to Fame with weeping Eyes.
Our fainty Sun's too languid to inſpire,
Thy Soul with Vengeance, and thy Breaſt with Fire.
Thy ſultry India, where the God of Day
Shoots on the Earth, direct, his burning Ray,
Ripens thy Godlike Vigour, and beſtows
A Heat intenſe, as that with which he glows.
From his kind Beams thy kindling Ardour came,
Who lent the Spark, then nurs'd it to a Flame.
[148]
Now Nations whom no Summer Suns beguile,
(Rough with the ſhaggy Bear's enormous Spoil)
Attentive hear the Story of thy Fame,
Forget their Clime, and glow at WILLIAM'S Name.
Beneath their Breaſt, as thy great Battels roul,
Each feels new Heat, and burns beneath his Pole;
Thy Godlike Deeds each freezing Arm inſpire,
And warm'd by Thee, they ask no other Fire.
See the Great Chief, * whoſe Empires ſtretch'd around,
Nature alone can ſhut, and Oceans bound;
[149] Forſake his ſnowy Realms, his chilling Skies,
And marks the Hero with aſtoniſh'd Eyes:
His Eyes the awful Warrior round explore,
And in his Looks he reads his Battels o'er:
The vaſt Idea carrying to his view
The Forts He ſtorm'd, and Millions that He ſlew.
Here great Namur, and there the bleeding Boyne,
With Slaughter ſwell'd, preſent their numerous ſlain.
While to Seneff, his Thoughts in Raptures run,
Where both deſerv'd the Palm, which neither won.
How great his Mien! what Port his Steps maintain!
Riſing he moves, and Awful heads the Plain:
Stern Majeſty ſits low'ring on his Face,
With comely Terror mix'd, and frowning Grace.
[150]
So with Evander, when His Royal Gueſt,
(A Lion's curling Mane his Shoulders dreſs'd)
His Hand in Leagues of holy Friendſhip joins;
Thus fierce he looks, and thus Majeſtick ſhines.
As WILLIAM'S Deeds the Hero entertain,
Quick beats his Heart, and ſwells each burſting Vein:
The Blood more ſprightly runs its circling Rounds,
And flaming thro' the Purple Channels Bounds;
The Britons Triumphs riſing to his view,
He glows, He fights, and ſeems to Triumph too:
In Thought elate, He now the Foe diſtains,
And drives the Tartar o'er the Ruſſian Plains.
[151] But hear! what joyful Shouts at Diſtance riſe,
Break thro' the Air, and doubling fill the Skies;
With WILLIAM'S Name the hollow Shores rebound,
And echoing Vales repeat the Darling Sound:
No more Fair Albion on the Beach reclin'd,
With Tears augments the Seas, with Sighs the Wind:
Nor chides the envious Gale, and angry Main,
That from her Eyes ſo long their Bliſs detain.
The ling'ring Bark no more creates her Woe,
Which flying o'er the Waves—yet ſtill is ſlow.
See the vaſt Fleet the parting Seas divide,
Whitening the Surge, and cuts the foamy Tide;
Arriv'd at laſt ſhe drops the daſhing Oar,
While PEACE, and WILLIAM, land on Albion's Shore.
[152] No Battels now within his Boſom roul,
Awake his Rage, and fire the Warrior's Soul:
His Thoughts no longer painting to his Eye
What Foe ſhall Bleed the next, what Rival Die.
Soft Paſſions now, and every milder Grace
Smile in his Looks, and ſmooth the Hero's Face:
No more dread Vengeance reddens at his Eyes,
While in the melting KING the Warrior Dies.
See! how their LORD the Britiſh Youth ſurrounds,
And prize their Safety ſcarce above their Wounds.
With comely Scars each Warrior's Boſom red,
Aſſerts how well he fought, how oft he bled.
To his lov'd Home, as now the Soldier flies,
Joy ſwells his Heart, and wets his bubling Eyes.
[153] The trembling Wife explores her Lover's Face,
Still coy, and doubtful of her Lord's Embrace;
Hangs on his Neck, confus'd with mix'd Surprize;
And ſatisfies her Love, before her Eyes.
The Infant ſtarting, as the Sire draws near,
Deep in the Mother's Boſom hides his Fear.
He to th' aſtoniſh'd Crowd recounting o'er
The Deaths he gave, and hardy Toils he bore:
His own Exploits, his own full Praiſes crown,
And pompous Words ſet off his paſt Renown.
So when the Ship, with Argive Heroes fraught,
Back to her Greece the ſhining Treaſure brought;
With wonder All, the burniſh'd Prize behold,
Rigid and ſtiff with Curls of flaming Gold.
[154] Still pale with Fear the Soldier numbers o'er
Dire dreadful Forms that guard the wakeful Shore.
Here Streams of Fire from hiſſing Serpents riſe,
Light the dusk Air, and flaſh along the Skies.
There glowing Bulls no Labours e'er could tame,
Groan at the Wain, and ſnort a living Flame.
For thy Return what grateful Trophies riſe,
What honeſt Joy o'erflows each Briton's Eyes!
To meet thy Fame, from all her joyful Tow'rs,
Thy Iſle her Populace, and Nobles pours;
All to their great Returning MONARCH kind,
Joy ſmiles before, and Tranſport ſhouts behind.
[155] While mingling Murmurs, and Applauſes round,
Delight thy Ear, and pleaſe while they confound.
To aid the ſpreading Pomp thy Heav'ns ſupply
Uncommon Luſtre, and a fairer Sky,
Keep back the Progreſs of the rolling Year,
While Summer Suns the flow'ry Winter cheer.
Now the lov'd * YOUTH in all his Beauty's Pride,
And ſmiling Bloom adorns the Hero's ſide.
[156] Each Parent ſtriving with alternate Care,
Divide their Love, to form him Great and Fair;
While in his Looks the Sire commanding lives,
The Goddeſs ſmooths the Charms, the Hero gives:
Each manly Feature, and ſeverer Grace,
By Beauty ſoften'd dies upon his Face:
With diff'rent Glories each the BOY inſpire,
One gives the Sweetneſs, and one lends the Fire.
In Wars already thoughtful to engage,
He acts thy Battels o'er with Mimic Rage;
Here preſſing eager on the flying Foe,
His boiling Veins with artful Vengeance glow,
[157] Till from his Arm as ſwiftly he retires,
Stop'd by his Sword, a fancy'd Gaul expires.
There his young Breaſt, and Courage to inflame,
He builds low Towers, and gives to each their Name.
Namure's feign'd Walls awhile his Force diſdain,
Which falls at laſt, and, ſmoaking, hides the Plain:
In Sieges thus his Arm the Youth employs,
Till what his Hand erects, his Sword deſtroys.
While eager now to reach thy virtuous Fame,
His Boſom hardly bounds the reſtleſs Flame:
A riſing Red his youthful Cheeks inſpires,
And ſtains his Lillies o'er with purple Fires.
[158]
But oh! what Muſe an equal Strength ſupplies
To paint Auguſta's Triumphs as they riſe?
Thro' whoſe glad Streets the Grape her Juice beſtows,
Each ſordid Channel purpling where it flows.
What Verſe can reach the lighted Orbs on high,
And falling Luſtre of the artful Sky?
While Stars of Sulphur thro' Heav'ns-Azure glow,
And fall and ſmoak from burſting Shells below.
See the fair Night her Rival Beams diſplay,
Forget her Shades, and emulate the Day.
[159] Forth from the Clouds the Heaven a Torrent pours
Of falling Light, and rains in burning Showers.
While Meteors blazing thro' the Winter Sky,
Trail a long Length of Fire, and crackling Die.
As thus the Spheres with ſhining Wonders glow,
A Thouſand hideous Forms ſurprize below:
Bright, horrid Monſters, ghaſtly to the Eye,
In various Shapes the artful Flames bely.
Here a fierce Lion we with Dread admire,
Shake his red Mane, and rough with Curls of Fire:
[160] There dreſs'd in Flames a ſlipp'ry Serpent ſlides,
Burns with feign'd Life, and hiſſes as he glides.
Each Subject now while WILLIAM fills the Throne,
Springs with new Life, and calls that Life his own:
To Nature's Bounds their Fleets controul the Main,
No Dangers dread, and every Foe diſdain.
Secure They wander; and while He is kind,
The Sea no Terrors has, no Rage the Wind.
Whether to freezing Climes their Courſe they hold
O'er Icy Waves, and bound with Summers cold;
[161] Or croſs thoſe Oceans, where perfuming Gales,
And Blaſts of Incenſe ſwell the driving Sails.
Ye Sacred SHADES, who from above complain,
Your reeking Wounds the Fields of Death diſtain;
Still to your Iſle your great Aſſiſtance lend,
And whom the Warriors ſav'd their Ghoſts defend.
Let WILLIAM ſtill your kind Protection prove,
His Pride on Earth, and Guardians when above.
And while your Friendſhip thus ſurvives the Grave,
Your Love ſecures that Bliſs your Courage gave.
[162] And thou, MARIA, whoſe indulgent Breaſt
Labours with Wiſhes for Britannia's Reſt;
If Europe's dawning PEACE a while delay
Thy Lord's Embrace, forgive the Hero's ſtay;
Till jarring Worlds by HIS Command agree,
In vain recall'd by Empire, and by THEE.

Appendix A THE TABLE.

[]
    • AD Inſigniſſimum Virum D. THO. BURNETTUM, Sacrae Theoriae Telluris Autorem. Page 7
    • To the Learned Doctor Thomas Burnett, Author of The Theory of the Earth. Page 9
    • Ad D.D. HANNES, Inſigniſſimum Medicum & Poetam. Page 17
    • To Dr. Hannes, an eminent Phyſician and Poet. Page 19
    • ΠΥΓΜΑΙΟ-ΓΕΡΑΝΟ-ΜΑΧΙΑ, ſive Praelium inter Pygmaeos & Grues commiſſum. Page 25
    • The Battel of the Pygmies and Cranes. Page 31
    • BAROMETRI Deſcriptio. Page 51
    • The Barometer: Or, Weather-Glaſs. Page 55
  • []
    • Machinae Geſticulantes. Page 63
    • The Puppet-Show. Page 67
    • RESURRECTIO delineata ad Altare Coll. Magd. Oxon. Page 87
    • The Reſurrection. Page 95
    • SPHAERISTERIUM. Page 109
    • The Bowling-Green. Page 113
    • Pax GULIELMI Auſpiciis Europae reddita, 1697. Page 125
    • The Peace of Reſwick. Page 139

2.

[]

Mr. ADDISON'S DISSERTATION ON THE Roman POETS.

Price One Shilling.

AUTHORS Names.

[]
  • I. Virgil.
  • II. Lucretius.
  • III. Ovid.
  • IV. Statius.
  • V. Lucan.
  • VI. Claudian.
  • VII. Horace.
  • VIII. Juvenal.
  • IX. Plautus.
  • X. Terence.
  • XI. Seneca.
  • XII. Martial.
  • XIII. Catullus.
  • XIV. Tibullus.
  • XV. Propertius.

1.

[]

A DISSERTATION Upon the moſt celebrated Roman POETS.

Written originally in LATIN BY Joſeph Addiſon, Eſq

Made ENGLISH by CHRISTOPHER HAYES, Eſq

LONDON, Printed for E. CURLL in Fleet-ſtreet. MDCCXVIII.

DISSERTATIO DE INSIGNIORIBUS ROMANORUM POETIS.

[1]

OMNIUM in re Poetica maxime inclaruerunt Romani, & Romanorum VIRGILIUS: Optimae quaeque Regulae huic Arti [2] inſervientes non tam Criticorum Praeceptis quam MARONIS exemplo ſunt depromendae: Ut ideo de reliquis Heroici Carminis Scriptoribus, recte ſtatuamus Virtutes & Vitia quae apud ſingulos occurrunt, lectioni conferamus Virgilianae; qui, ſi ullibi defecerit Bucolicis, nonnunquam puriorem immiſcuit Styli elegantiam quam quae Paſtoribus conveniat, & ſaepe grandior ſonat Carminum Majeſtas quam quae tenui avenae conſona videatur: Apud quemlibet Georgicorum librum inimitabili quadam Sermonis Elegantia Res ruſticae explicantur, ſed ultimus de Apum Natura valde praeter caeteros animum delectat; ubi dum [3] in tenui Argumento procedit Poema, ſolennem quandam Sententiarum & Verborum Pompam ſtudioſe affectet Poeta; Apum ideo Opera Cyclopum aſſimulat Laboribus, nec majori Carminum tumultu AENEAE & TURNI recitat Certamina, quam haſce Inſectorum Turmas inter ſeſe depraeliantes. Ubique exiguàe Reipublicae Duces, Populi, Studia, Mores, & tenue illud Imperium quod intra Alvearii Anguſtias exercetur, venuſta neſcio qua Carminis Magnificentia exprimuntur: Quin hoc certe in toto Opere praecipue occurrit admirandum, quomodo dum Plantationis, Paſtionis, & Agriculturae curas [4] exequitur Poeta, omiſſis uſitatioribus loquendi formulis, materiae tam incultae locutionem Poeticam accommodaret, quomodo ignobiliori depreſſus Argumento nunquam ad Stylum Plebeium Orationem demiſerat; ſed tanta undique apparet Locutionum vis, ut multi (quamvis temere) Georgicos etiam Aeneidi praetuliſſe non dubitarint; ſed in hoc Opere, per Argumentum, non licuit alias Poeſeωs Partes praeſtitiſſe quam Styli & Deſcriptionum Elegantiam. Quod ad utrumque attinet, illud ſibi proprium ſemper vendicat MARONIS Pagina, ut quicquid exprimat mira quadam Dulcedine animum ingrediatur, & [5] quod deſcribat melius quam ſi Oculis ſubjiciatur, tanquam praeſens intueamur.

In Styli puritate proxime accedit LUCRETIUS, cujus Dictio, ſi obſoletae aliquando Verborum Antiquitati, & Numeris pene ſolutis agnoſcas, illorum Palato qui Romane ſapiunt, perſuavis videatur. In Deſcriptionibus tamen CLAUDIANO ſecundus debetur Honos, qui amoenas Rerum Imagines ubique venuſtiſſima contexuit Oratione, in hoc ſolummodo vitioſus, quod fuſius quam par eſt ſemper expatietur, eoſdem Verſus diverſis exponat Loquendi Modis; in hac Arte ſeſe [6] maxime profeciſſe ſatis noverat CLAUDIANUS, de quacunque enim re ſatagit, aſſidue ſemper quaerit quae deſcribenda ſunt, imo plurima ſumpſit Argumenta quae tota in Deſcriptionibus occupantur, ut videre eſt in Praefationibus, in Idylliis, in Libris de Raptu PROSERPINAE, de PHAENICE, HISTRICE, TORPEDINE, & pleriſque Epigrammatum.

OVIDIUS (ut erat Aulici Ingenii Homo) terſo quidem & polito Carmine res exhibuit amatorias, in caeteris tamen Operibus iſtiuſmodi occurrit Sermo quali in Triviis uti ſolent: Ille enim Ingenio ſuo confiſus [7] de operoſiori Dictione elaboranda parum erat ſatis ſolicitus: In Libro tamen Metamorphoſeωs varias optime depinxit Animalium Mutationes, dum prior paulatim exuitur Forma & nova ſuperinducitur.

Utrumque hoc quod jam tractamus Poetis Officium non raro optime praeſtitit PAPINIUS, LUCANUS neutrum, cujus Dictio quanquam multum ſonat inflata, nulla tamen Phraſeorum aut Epithetorum Venuſtate animatur, ſed Orationi magis ſolutae convenit quam Poeticae, imo certe tali plerunque utitur Verborum delectu, [8] qualem vel Liber dedignetur Sermo. Et quanquam in Deſcriptionibus ſaepiſſime verſatur, & in hujuſmodi diverticula nunquam non excurrit, raro tamen, ut debet, Opus abſolvit: Jam vero quod ad STATIUM attinet; plurima certe compoſuit ſummis Poetarum invidenda, ſed inter magnas Virtutes maxima occurrunt Vitia; in Dictione enim Verba nimis admittit ſeſquipedalia, nullaque de Argumento habita ratione vana numeris miſcet Tonitrua: Nec minus in Deſcriptionibus peccat; nimio enim calori indulgens, dum totis viribus excellere conatur, ultra Finem tendit opus, et in tumorem excreſcit; in utrumque [9] hujuſmodi vitium aliquando incidit CLAUDIANUS. Jam vero quoniam de VIRGILII Aeneidis Argumento varii multa ſcripſerunt & praeclara, pauca ſolummodo de STATII & LUCANI Carminibus ſunt advertenda; utpote quae Latinorum omnium ſola Epica haberi debent. De LUCANO id ſaepe in Diſputationem venit, an Hiſtoria qua conſtat Pharſalicum Poema, idoneum ſit Heroici Carminis Argumentum. Vera ideo Heroicae Poeſeωs Natura inquirenda eſt, quam apud Librum de Dignitate & Augmentis Scientiarum his Verbis optime exhibuit VERULAMIUS noſtras. Ex quo ſatis patet veram [10] Hiſtoriam cum Epico Poemate male convenire; & proinde LUCANUM quoad Argumentum maxime defeciſſe. Quinque in illius Poemate maxime emicant Heroes, CAESAR, POMPEIUS, BRUTUS, CATO, & CICERO: Omnes ſane tam Vita inſignes quam Morte luctuoſi; quorum Virtutes (quantum licuit per humanam Naturam) Perfectioni iſtae Heroicae, quam reliqui Poetae Ducibus ſuis falſo tribuerunt, proxime acceſſerant. LUCANUS CAESARI undique oblatrat, POMPEII Partes ambitioſe fovet, ſed BRUTI & CATONIS Encomia, ob Stoicum (credo) illud Ingenium, quod cum his habuit commune, [11] maxime celebrat: Et plurima certe quae LUCANO objicias Philoſophiae hujuſcemodi ſunt referenda: Inde immodicus iſte Ingenii tumor, & ambitioſa Sententiarum oſtentatio, quam cum illa Hominum turba ſemper habet in Deliciis; inde quae magna ſunt, quam quae bona ſunt, maluit praeferre. Hinc etiam in eximia illa Poeſeωs Virtute Paſſionibus excitandis ipſe (qui omnes Philoſophiae Affectus tanquam illicitos exiſtimavit) male ſucceſſerat, cujus Vitii unicum tantum (ut taceam caetera) Argumentum proferam: Poſtquam in Pugna Pharſalica CAESAR de Pompeio Victoriam reportaverit, LUCANUS maxime [12] debuit, ſi aliquid ab ipſa Hiſtoria alienum protuliſſet, lugubri quodam Carmine immeritam doluiſſe POMPEII ſortem; quippe in toto Opere ſummo habuit honore; vel ſaltem ipſum POMPEIUM (ut ingens patuit Doloris Argumentum) aut de amiſſa Romae Libertate, aut de Amicorum Mortibus, aut de propriis querentem Infortuniis, introduxiſſe oportuit. Poeta tamen ab omni hujuſmodi Dolore tam longe abeſt, ut POMPEIUM, obnixe hortaretur, poſtquam victus a Bello deceſſerat, ut CAESARIS Victoris ſui commiſereſcat, quia nempe CAESAR non ſine Scelere Victoria potitus eſt;

[13]
Nonne juvat pulſum bellis ceſſiſſe, nec iſtud
Proſpexiſſe (nefas!) ſpumantes coede catervas?
Reſpice turbatos in curſu ſanguinis amnes,
Et ſoceri miſerere tui; Quo pectore Romam
Intrabit factus compis felicior iſtis?

Quis tulerit Poetam tam ridicule philoſophantem? quaſi vero POMPEIUS Senex, Exul, Miſer, Triumumphatus, ob Victorem ſuum quamvis ſceleſtum Commiſerationem quandam conciperet: Illum quidem maxime Stoice ſapuiſſe oporterat, [14] qui omnibus hiſce Fortunae Donis ſpoliatus, tantam in nuda Virtute poneret Felicitatem. Sed nullus Poetarum niſi VIRGILIUS hujuſmodi afficiat Dolore: Alii plerunque dum moerorem aliquem Lectoribus inducerent, in illo peccant, quod nimia Prolixitate ſeſe in queſtus effundant, nec unquam ſatis Lachrymarum exhauſtum eſſe ſentiant, vel Ingenium, quod maxime poſſint, Verſibus infundendo, faciunt ut magis Carmina miremur, quam materiam lugeamus. De utroque cavit VIRGILIUS, qui mera ſemper Simplicitate luctuoſa ut in ſe ſunt exhibuit; & leviter quicquid dolet perſtrinxerat: ‘"Lamentationes [15] enim, inquit CICERO, debent eſſe breves & conciſae, quia Lachryma ſubito exareſcit, & difficile eſt Auditorem aut Lectorem in ſummo illo animi affectu tenere."’ Ut vero ad STATIUM redeamus, illi quidem Spiritus non raro feliciter aſſurgit, cui dum temperare nequit, neſcio quas projicit Ampullas, & vana Carminibus addit Numerorum Terriculamenta. THEBAIDIS quidem Argumentum Ingenii ſui Truculentiae, ſed non Heroico Poemati ſatis aptum videatur: ETEOCLES enim, POLYNICES, & TYDEUS, quorum geſta hoc Carmine celebrantur, nihil habent eorum, ſi [16] unicam Fortitudinem demas, quae conveniunt Heroibus: Imo in toto Poemate nulla niſi Scelerum, qualia ſunt Parricidii, Perfidiae, Immanitatis, Odiorum proferuntur Exemplaria; dum in omnibus fere quos ſuo Carmine induxit VIRGILIUS praeclara quaedam illuceſcunt, & in ipſo AENEA ſummam Pietatem erga Does, Natum, Conjugem, Amicos, & Parentem, Oculis ſemper habemus ſubjectam. Epitheta plerunque STATIANA multum ſonant metaphorice, dum inanimatis illa tribuuntur quae Animalibus conveniunt. In Verbis tamen nec raro ſine maxima Elegantia Metaphoras conſectatur CLAUDIANUS; VIRGILIUS [17] in utriſque parciſſimus; STATIUS plurimas rerum ſimilitudines compoſuit, multum ſaepe de VIRGILII Ingenio referentes, in qua arte melius ſucceſſerat LUCANUS, ſi aliquid unquam mediocre admiſerat; ſed dum VIRGILIUS ad Apes, ad Formicas, & iſtiuſmodi Natura ludicra deſcendit, nihil unquam niſi Quercum fulminatam, Terrae Exitium, aut Mundi Conflagrationem ebuccinat LUCANUS. Et hiſce tandem, quorum alii non operae Pretium duxerunt meminiſſe, de Heroicis Scriptoribus breviter perſtrictis; de Satyricis reſtat dicendum; quorum omnium JUVENALIS & HORATIUS Palmam [18] dubiam quidem fecerunt: Inter Literatos enim multum diſcrepat, utrum mordax illa Ingenii acerbitas, qua ſuam armavit paginam JUVENALIS, an potius HORATII feſtivae Irriſiones, magis Satyrae conveniant: Ut vero de utroque rectius ſtatuatur, pauca prius ſunt advertenda. Ob infamem vitae ſuae laſciviam, etiam nunc temporis, male audit HORATIUS; Virtutem tamen ſemper rigide coluit JUVENALIS: Ille in abſolutiſſima AUGUSTI Aula verſatus eſt, hic in peſſima DOMITIANI Tempora incidiſſet: Proinde ut ad ſua & Saeculi utriuſque Ingenia Opera [19] accommodarent Poetae, HORATIUS totus in ludicro exercetur Argumento, nec Morum Licentiam, ſed indecoras quaſdam Aulicorum Ineptias plerunque inſectatur; non ideo abfuiſſet quin irridetur, ſi aliqua Styli ſeveritate ad leviuſcula hujuſmodi caſtiganda ſe accinxiſſet: Graviſſima tamen in Temporibus ſuis reprehendit JUVENALIS, & de Vitiis ubique queritur quae vel pudeat recitare, & iſti ſane Materiae, ſumma Mentis Indignatio, Orationis Ardor, & Ingenii Acrimonia, rectiſſime aptari videantur. Quamvis ubi ad Jocularia Animum demittit, non raro Satyris [20] Feſtivitatem fundit HORATIANAM. Uterque ideo (modo diverſum conſulas Argumentum) ſuo quidem Genere perfectiſſimus emicuit; in quo Ridiculum Acri melius, in hoc Acre Ridiculo. Reliqua certe HORATII Opera, Admiratione potius ſunt digna quam Encomiis, nec majora ſolum Vituperatione, ſed etiam Laude. Jam vero quod ad Dramaticos attinet, PLAUTI & TERENTII Argumenta, Sales, Elegantiae ubique adeo vulgantur, ut nihil de novo poſſit adjici: De SENECA vero tam diverſe ſentiunt, ut alii inter ſummos Tragicorum, alii infra Infimum annumerent: [21] Illi quidem Ingenium valde magnum, Oratio elegans & conciſa, abundat Sententiis plerunque acutis, Stoicam ſemper Philoſophiam, quam amplexus eſt, redolentibus. Unde omnibus fere, qui Artem Dramaticam parum ſapiunt, ſemper eſt in Deliciis; ſi tamen ad hanc reſpicias, Tragoediae ubique plurimum laborant, & iſtud vitii (ut reliqua praetermittam) SENECAE peculiare videatur, ut quoſcunque inducat Interlocutores, nulla, ad Perſonas quas ſuſtinet, habita ratione, eundem ſemper unicuique tribuat loquendi modum: Omnes ſeveriora ſpirant Philoſophiae Dogmata, & quae Stoae [22] magis conveniant quam Theatro. Eadem ſemper Styli Magnificentia ſuperbiunt Rex, & Nuncius: Imo ipſam Nutricem (plurima enim tam acute profert) Stoicorum Praeceptis non mediocriter imbutam ſentias. Inter Epigrammatiſtas potiſſimum emicuerunt MARTIALIS & CLAUDIANUS; Ille ſemper in extremo Poemate Ingenii ſubjecit acumen, & ſaepe ſimilia inſequitur Verborum Tintinnabula; Hic per totum Epigramma ſuum diſpergit Salem, & venuſtiſſima ubique utitur Latinitatis Elegantia. Caeterum tamen Poetarum Vulgus, de iſtiuſmodi mediocribus ſunt, quos nec Dii nec [23] Homines conceſſerunt; & quamvis una aut altera apud affectatas CATULLI Oratiunculas, TIBULLI aut PROPERTII inhoneſtam paginam, & Carmina incurioſa, illuceſcat Virtus, non tamen eſt Operae Pretium Gemmas inter Stercora eruere.

Jo. Addiſon,

2.

[]

A DISSERTATION Upon the moſt celebrated Roman POETS.

Made Engliſh from the Latin Original BY CHRISTOPHER HAYES, Eſq

LONDON, Printed in the Year 1718.

A DISSERTATION Upon the moſt celebrated Roman POETS.

[27]

OF all the Nations in the World, the Romans have moſt excell'd in the Art of Poetry, and even among the Romans VIRGIL has been the moſt deſervedly celebrated; [28] from whom the juſteſt Rules of this Art are rather to be taken, than from the dry Precepts of the Criticks. To the End therefore that we may the more truly aſcertain the Beauties and Faults which occur among the reſt of the Writers of Heroic Poetry, let us compare them with the Style of VIRGIL; who, if he be in any Thing deficient, it is when he has ſometimes in his Eclogues mingled ſuch a Purity of Style, as is not entirely agreeable with the Dialect of Shepherds; and frequently the Dignity of his Verſe ſeems no Way conſonant to the Rural Pipe. In every Book of his Georgicks, he [29] treats of Country Affairs with an inimitable Elegancy of Style; but, above all, we are moſt delighted with his laſt Book, Of the Nature of BEES; where, in a Poem on ſo inconſiderable a Subject, our Author purpoſely affects a peculiarly ſolemn and pompous Style. In this Piece he compares the Labours of the BEES to thoſe of the Cyclops; and in the ſame lofty Numbers recounts the Skirmiſhes of theſe little Inſects among themſelves, as he does the Rencounters of AENEAS and TURNUS. All along, the Generals of this ſmall Republick, the Populace, the Factions, the Cuſtoms and Forms of Government [30] exercis'd within the narrow Limits of the Bee-hive, are deſcrib'd with an inexpreſſible Beauty and Magnificence. Throughout the whole Work, what moſtly raiſes our Admiration, is, that in the Perſuit of his Diſcourſe on Planting, Grazing, and Agriculture, (waving the common Forms of Speech) he ſuits his Poetick Diction to ſo unpolite a Theme; how, ſeemingly depreſs'd with the Meanneſs of his Subject, he never ſinks into a Plebeian Style; but the Force and Energy of his Expreſſion are ſo conſpicuous, that many, too raſhly indeed, have not ſcrupled to prefer the Georgicks to the Aeneid: [31] But in a Work of this Nature, no other Parts of Poetry could be diſplay'd, except an Elegance of Style and Deſcription: In both theſe Ways VIRGIL has this peculiar to himſelf, that he captivates the Soul with his wonderful Sweetneſs, and his Deſcriptions are as lively, as if we had the Object plac'd before our Eyes.

In the Purity of his Style next follows LUCRETIUS, whoſe Diction, allowing for his Obſoleteneſs, and Numbers almoſt Proſaick, may challenge a Share of Praiſe in thoſe who have any Taſte of the Roman Eloquence: For Deſcriptions [32] however, the ſecond Poſt of Honour is due to CLAUDIAN, who has throughout, in a moſt beautiful Style, interwoven his agreeable Images; faulty in this alone, that he expatiates upon his Subjects beyond all Decency, and frequently gives us the ſame Thoughts, diverſify'd only in Expreſſion. In this Art CLAUDIAN well knew the Progreſs he had made, for on whatſoever Topick he is engag'd, he diligently ſearches out Matter for Deſcription, nay moſt of the Subjects he has wrote upon are wholly ſuch, as may be ſeen in his Prefaces, his Eclogues, his Books of the Rape of PROSERPINE, [33] his Phoenix, his Porcupine, his Cramp-Fiſh, and moſt of his EPIGRAMS.

OVID (like a true Courtier as he was) deſcribes the Affairs of Love in neat and polite Verſe. In the reſt of his Works we meet with the more vulgar Way of Expreſſion; for truſting to a good Genius, he was little ſolicitous about forming a more elaborate Style; but yet in his Metamorphoſes, he has painted in the greateſt Perfection the various Changes of all Creatures, and his Transformations ſucceed one another with a moſt ſurprizing Celerity.

[34] STATIUS has frequently diſcharg'd both theſe Requiſites of a Poet we juſt now obſerv'd; LUCAN neither, whoſe Diction, altho' very bombaſt, is not enliven'd either by beautiful Phraſes or Epithets, but comes nearer Proſe than Poetry; nay, there is in him commonly ſuch a mean Choice of Words, as is ſometimes even beneath Proſe it ſelf: And altho' he abounds in Deſcriptions, and is always making Excurſions of that Kind, yet he ſeldom finiſhes his Work as he ought, or brings his Thoughts to any Juſtneſs of Concluſion.

[35] But now as to STATIUS, he has given us Compoſitions worthy of the Envy of the beſt Poets: But with all his Beauties he has greater Faults; for in his Expreſſion he makes too much Uſe of Gigantick Words, and, not conſidering his Subject, mingles uſeleſs Thunder in his Numbers: Nor is he leſs faulty in his Deſcriptions, for, encouraging too great a Heat, while he attempts to excel, he ſhoots beyond his Mark, and ſwells unnaturally. Of both which Extreams CLAUDIAN is too often guilty.

[36] And now, ſince there have been many Pieces written, and thoſe of Note, on the Subject of VIRGIL'S Aeneis, (and leſs Notice is taken of the Poetry of STATIUS and LUCAN) to whoſe Productions only the Latines allow the Title of Epick Poetry. As to LUCAN, it has been often diſputed whether his Pharſalia be a proper Subject for an Heroick Poem. For the Deciſion of this Point, we muſt enquire into the true Nature of Heroick Poetry, which our Countryman the Lord BACON has admirably deſcrib'd in his Treatiſe of The Advancement of Learning. From [37] whence it is ſufficiently manifeſt, that Hiſtory and Epic Poetry are by no means proper Companions; and therefore that LUCAN has very much fail'd in his principal Subject: The five Heroes who make the greateſt Figure in his Poem, are CAESAR, POMPEY, BRUTUS, CATO, and CICERO; each of them indeed as diſtinguiſhable in their Lives, as they were lamented at their Deaths; Men whoſe Virtues, allowing for the Frailties of human Nature, came neareſt to that Pitch of Heroick Perfection which other Poets have falſely attributed to their Heroes. LUCAN every where rails at CAESAR, and [38] paſſionately eſpouſes POMPEY'S Intereſt, but moſt of all celebrates the Characters of BRUTUS and CATO for that Spirit of Stoiciſm, which he had equally imbib'd with them: And indeed moſt of the Faults objected to LUCAN, are rather to be imputed to this Kind of Philoſophy. From whence ſprung that boundleſs Vein of Wit, and that peculiar Affectation of a lofty Style, which, like that Sect of Men, he always delighted in, and therefore gives the Preference rather to great, than good Actions: And upon this Account, in raiſing the Paſſions, (that moſt excellent Part of Poetry) he ſucceeded but [39] ill, becauſe upon the Principles of his Philoſophy, the Paſſions themſelves were accounted as abſolutely unlawful. To confirm this, (paſſing by many others) I will produce but one Inſtance: After CAESAR had obtain'd the Victory over POMPEY in the Battle of Pharſalia, LUCAN certainly (if he had enlarg'd on any Circumſtance foreign to his Story) ſhould, upon ſo remarkable an Occaſion, have brought in POMPEY lamenting his unhappy Fate in the moſt mournful Strain; eſpecially ſince he pays ſo high a Deference to him throughout his whole Work; or at leaſt (as there was an open Field for Grief) he [40] ſhould have introduc'd POMPEY, either complaining of Rome's loſt Liberty, the Death of his Friends, or his own Misfortunes. But LUCAN is ſo far from raiſing the Paſſions to this juſt Heighth, that he warmly adviſes POMPEY (when vanquiſh'd he retires from the Field of Action) to commiſerate the Condition of his Conqueror CAESAR, becauſe he had not won the Day but by unjuſtifiable Methods.

Don't you rejoyce that your ſuperiour Foes
Have ſnatch'd you from a Scene of future Woes?
[41] That bleſt in Exile you eſcape the Sight
Of bleeding Armies in domeſtic Fight?
Behold each River drags her tardy Flood,
Choak'd up with Carnage and diſtain'd with Blood;
Your Victor-Sire with pitying Eyes ſurvey,
Nor envy him the Fortune of the Day:
How ſhall he enter Rome devoid of Shame,
Who on the publick Ruins builds his Name?

Who can bear to hear the Poet philoſophizing in this ridiculous [42] Manner? As if POMPEY, a Man in Years, an Exile, Miſerable, and Vanquiſh'd, ſhould have any Concern upon him for the Crimes of his Conqueror: He ought to have been very much ſtoiciz'd indeed, who, deſpoil'd of all the Goods of Fortune, could place the Sum of his Felicity in meer naked Virtue. But none of the Poets have touch'd this Paſſion of Grief like VIRGIL. The Generality of other Writers, when they attempt to move their Readers, offend in this Point, that they are too prolix in ſpinning out their Complaints, and think their Flood of Tears inexhauſtible; or elſe, while they labour to expreſs [43] the Greatneſs of their Genius, in the Profuſeneſs of their Verſe, rather raiſe our Admiration at the Flowing of their Numbers, than excite our Pity in the Cataſtrophe of their Story. VIRGIL has carefully avoided both theſe Extreams, and dreſſes his Images of Sorrow in their native Simplicity; and whoever he makes to grieve, he always does it with a quick and tender Compaſſion: For according to CICERO, our Expreſſions of Grief ought to be ſhort and conciſe, becauſe our Tears quickly dry up, and it is unnatural to detain either an Auditor or a Reader in too long a Suſpenſion of Grief.

[44] But to return to STATIUS, his Spirit is indeed lofty and aſpiring, to which while he gives too great a Looſe, he runs into Bombaſt, and to his Poetry often adds uſeleſs ſounding Words. The Subject of his Thebais ſeems indeed ſuited to the Barbarity of his Genius, but is beneath the Dignity of an Heroic Poem. For neither ETEOCLES, POLYNICES, nor TYDEUS, whoſe Actions are recorded in this Poem, have any Thing in them, except their Valour, agreeable to Heroes: Nay, throughout the whole Piece there are no Examples produc'd, unleſs of Perſons infamous for the [45] moſt flagitious Enormities, ſuch as Parricide, Treachery, Cruelty, and Revenge; while, on the contrary, every Thing Praiſe-worthy ſhines bright in VIRGIL'S Heroes, and in the Perſon of AENEAS we have plac'd before our Eyes an Inſtance of conſummate Piety towards the GODS, his Son, his Wife, his Friends, and his Father. The Epithets of STATIUS are generally forc'd and very metaphorical, while ſuch Properties are aſcrib'd to Inanimates, as really only belong to Animals. In the Choice of his Words, and frequently in his Metaphors, he is follow'd by CLAUDIAN with the utmoſt Elegance; [46] VIRGIL is ſparing in both theſe Particulars; STATIUS abounds much with Similitudes, in which he ſeems to imitate VIRGIL; but in this Inſtance LUCAN had had better Succeſs, if he had hit upon the proper Medium: But while VIRGIL ſtoops down to the humble Subjects of Bees, Ants, and other ſuch like delightful Themes of Nature; on the other Hand, LUCAN bellows out nothing but Stories of Oaks ſplit by Lightning, Earthquakes, and the World's Conflagration. Let this, in ſhort, ſuffice obſervable concerning the Writers of Heroic Poetry, in itſelf new, and never before taken Notice of.

[47] Something now remains to be ſaid of the Satyriſts, among whom whether JUVENAL or HORACE have moſt Right to the Bays, it is difficult to determine; for it has been long a Diſpute among the Learned, whether that Keenneſs and Bitterneſs of Expreſſion with which JUVENAL has arm'd his Satires, or HORACE'S more jocoſe Lampoons are moſt agreeable to the End of SATIRE. Now that we may give a clearer Deciſion on this Head, a few Things muſt be premis'd. HORACE bears to this Day, an ill Character for the Looſeneſs of his Conduct in Life. JUVENAL [48] was a rigid Practiſer of Virtue. The one was converſant in the moſt perfectly polite Court of AUGUSTUS; the other liv'd in the Dregs of DOMITIAN'S Time; and therefore both theſe Poets accommodated their Writings to the Manners of the different Ages they liv'd in: For HORACE is entirely upon the ludicrous, and perſues not ſo much the Licentiouſneſs of the Times, as the ridiculous Fopperies of ſome particular Courtiers; for had he attempted to correct theſe Trifles with Severity, he had not miſs'd of being laugh'd at: But JUVENAL laſhes the groſſeſt Crimes prevalent in his Time, and complains [49] of Enormities which he was aſham'd to mention, and nothing leſs than the higheſt Reſentment of Soul, Ardency of Expreſſion, and Sharpneſs of Speech, could be an equal Match to Crimes ſo notorious; tho' whenever he deſcends to be jocoſe, we frequently meet with the Pleaſantry of HORACE. Both of them, allowing for the different Manner of their Writing, are perfect Maſters in their ſeveral Ways; in the one ſhines the Ridicule, in the other the Severe. The reſt of HORACE'S Pieces are ſo admirable, that they exceed our higheſt Encomiums, and are not only beyond our Diſlike, but above our Praiſe.

[50] As to what concerns the Dramatick Poets, PLAUTUS and TERENCE bear away the Bell, whoſe Plots, Turns, and Elegancy of Style, are ſo well known, that nothing new can be ſaid upon them.

As to SENECA, Mankind have had different Opinions of him; ſome have rank'd him with the beſt Tragoedians, others have ſunk him below the worſt. He certainly had a great Genius, an elegant and conciſe Way of Expreſſion; he abounds with ſmart Turns, which always ſavour much of that Stoiciſm of which he was a Follower, upon [51] which Account he has always been eſteem'd by thoſe who have had little or no Taſte of Dramatick Poetry; but then if we conſider him as ſuch, his Tragedies are throughout too elaborate; and this, to paſs by his other Faults, ſeems peculiarly SENECA'S, that he makes all his Actors (without any Regard to the Characters they bear) talk in the ſame Strain; all of them inculcate rigid philoſophical Dogmata, and ſuch Morality as is rather fit for the Schools of the Stoicks, than the Roman Theatre: For with him the King and the Slave ſtrut in the ſame Buskin; nay, you may perceive the Nurſe herſelf deeply [52] ting'd with the Principles of Stoiciſm.

Among the Epigrammatiſts, MARTIAL and CLAUDIAN have bore the greateſt Reputation; the firſt, for the ſevere Point in the Cloſe of his Epigrams, and the peculiar Jingle of his Words. The other, for diſperſing the Poignancy of his Wit throughout his Epigrams, and that in the moſt beautiful Latin Phraſe.

The reſt of the Herd of the Latin Poets creep ſo low in their Numbers, that they are beneath the Notice either of GODS or Men: And tho' we may now and then [53] diſcover in the affected Harangues of CATULLUS, and the obſcene Poetry of TIBULLUS and PROPERTIUS, ſome not diſagreeable Pieces, yet it is not worth our while to rake the Dunghills for the Sake of the JEWELLS.

ERRATA.

Pag. 5 Lin. 16 read eoſdemque. p. 13 l. 12 r. oportuerat.

Appendix A POSTSCRIPT.

[]

The Paſſage of the Lord * BACON, which ſeems to be referr'd to by Mr. ADDISON, in the 9th Page of the foregoing DISSERTATION.

—de Poeſi Narrativa, ſive eam Heroicam appellare placet (modo hoc intelligas de Materia, non de Verſu) ea a Fundamento prorſus nobili excitata videtur, quod ad dignitatem humanae Naturae imprimis ſpectat. Cum enim Mundus ſenſibilis ſit Anima rationali dignitate inferior, videtur Poeſis haec humanae Naturae largiri, quae Hiſtoria denegat; atque Animo umbris rerum utcunque fatisfacere, cum ſolida haberi non poſſint. Si quis enim Rem acutius introſpiciat, firmum ex Poeſi ſumitur argumentum, Magnitudinem Rerum magis illuſtrem, Ordinem magis perfectum, & Varietatem magis pulchram, Animae humanae complacere, quam in Natura ipſa poſt Lapſum reperire ullo modo poſſit. Quapropter, cum Res geſtae, & Eventus, qui vere Hiſtoriae ſubjiciuntur, non ſint ejus Amplitudinis, [] in qua Anima humana ſibi ſatisfaciat, praeſto eſt Poeſis, quae Facta magis Heroica confingat: Cum Hiſtoria vera ſucceſſus rerum, minime pro meritis Virtutum & Scelerum narret; corrigit eam Poeſis, & exitus, & fortunas ſecundum merita, & ex lege Nemeſeos exhibet: Cum Hiſtoria vera, obvia rerum ſatietate & ſimilitudine, animae humanae faſtidio ſit; reficit eam Poeſis inexpectata & varia, & viciſſitudinem plena canens. Adeo ut Poeſis iſta, non ſolum ad delectationem, ſed etiam ad Animi magnitudinem, & ad Mores conferat. Quare & merito etiam Divinitatis cujuſpiam particeps videri poſſit; quia animum erigit, & in ſublime rapit: rerum ſimulachra ad animi deſideria accommodando, non animum rebus (quod ratio facit & Hiſtoria) ſubmittendo.

Thus tranſlated, in the Engliſh Edition, by Dr. RAWLEY.

As for Narrative Poeſy, or, if you pleaſe, Heroical, (ſo you underſtand it of the Matter, not of the Verſe) it ſeems to be rais'd altogether from a noble Foundation, which makes much for the Dignity of Man's Nature. For ſeeing this ſenſible World is in Dignity inferior to the Soul of Man, Poeſy ſeems to endow human Nature with that which Hiſtory denies; and to give Satisfaction to the Mind, with, at leaſt, the Shadow of Things, where the Subſtance cannot be had. For if the Matter be thoroughly conſider'd, a ſtrong Argument [] may be drawn from Poeſy, that a more ſtately Greatneſs of Things, a more perfect Order, and a more beautiful Variety delights the Soul of Man, than any Way can be found in Nature ſince the Fall. Wherefore, ſeeing the Acts and Events which are the Subject of true Hiſtory, are not of that Amplitude as to content the Mind of Man, Poeſy is ready at Hand to feign Acts more Heroical. Becauſe true Hiſtory reports the Succeſſes of Buſineſs not proportionable to the Merit of Virtues and Vices, Poeſy corrects it, and preſents Events and Fortunes according to Deſert, and according to the Law of Providence: Becauſe true Hiſtory, thro' the frequent Satiety and Similitude of Things, works a Diſtaſte and Miſpriſion in the Mind of Man; Poeſy cheereth and refreſheth the Soul, chanting Things rare, and various, and full of Viciſſitudes. So as Poeſy ſerveth and conferreth to Delectation, Magnanimity, and Morality; and therefore it may ſeem deſervedly to have ſome Participation of Divineneſs, becauſe it doth raiſe the Mind to Things, as Reaſon and Hiſtory do.
FINIS.
Notes
*
The late Earl of Halifax.
*
Homer's Batrachemuomachia.
*
The Apoſtles, as thus deſcrib'd, are painted on the Altar, tho' not mention'd in Mr. Addiſon's Latin Poem.
*
William Wainflet, Biſhop of Wincheſter. He was the Founder of Magdalen College, and the Hall adjoining.
*
Honoratiſſimus D. Dominus CUTTS Baro de Gowran, &c.
*
Intellig. Inſig. Dom. Chriſtoph. Codrington, unus ex Regii Satellitii Praefectis.
Muſcoviae Imperator.
*
Celſiſſimus Princeps Dux Gloceſtrenſis.
*
The Oxford Verſes on the Peace.
*
The Lord CUTTS, Baron of Gowran, &c.
*
Colonel Codrington, Colonel of the King's Guards.
*
The Czar of Muſcovy.
*
His Royal Highneſs WILLIAM Duke of Gloceſter.
*
Vide Tract. de Dignitate & Augmentis Scientiarum. Fol. Lond. 1638, Cap. XIII. Pag. 64.
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