To Mr. [...] at Sunning-Hill, Berks.
[1]I Here ſend you my Anſwer to the two Queſtions which I lately received from you, which are whether the Eſſay upon Criticiſm, which I lately ſent you is like to take in Town, and who is the Author of that anonymous Rhapſody.
In anſwer to the firſt Queſtion, my Opinion is that it will take very well. For the ſame thing is true of great Bo⯑dies of Men, which has been obſerv'd of particular Perſons; and that is, that when Genius thinks fit to depart from among them, good Taſte never cares to be very long after it. When the Italian Opera drove Poetry from out this Iſland, Criticiſm thought it a very great Impertinence for her to ſtay long behind. Beſides that the elegant Tranſlations of the Italian Opera's, which Mr. Tonſon has publiſhed by the moſt eminent Hands, have prepared People to like any thing that is of an equal Merit with thoſe Tranſlations, and with Tom Sternhold's Verſion.
For the ſecond Quaere, Mr. [...] is of Opinion that this Eſſay was writ by ſome experienced judicious Perſon, who knows what Quantity of baſe Alloy is at this Juncture requiſite to debaſe the Coin of Parnaſſus, and reduce it to the current Standard. But I am inclin'd to believe that it was writ by ſome young, or ſome raw Author, for the fol⯑lowing Reaſons.
Firſt, He diſcovers in every Page a Sufficiency that is far beyond his little Ability; and hath raſhly undertaken a Task which is infinitely above his Force; a Task that is only fit for the Author, with the juſt Encomium of whoſe Eſſay my Lord Roſcommon begins his own.
There is nothing more wrong, more low, or more incor⯑rect than this Rhapſody upon Criticiſm. The Author all along taxes others with Faults of which he is more guilty himſelf. He tells us in the very two firſt Lines, that
Now whereas others have been at ſome Pains and Thought to ſhew each of theſe wants of Skill ſeparately and diſtinct⯑ly, his comprehenſive Soul hath moſt ingeniouſly contriv'd to ſhew them both in a ſupreme Degree together.
Secondly, While this little Author ſtruts and affects the Dictatorian Air, he plainly ſhews that at the ſame time he is under the Rod; and that while he pretends to give Laws to others, he is himſelf a pedantick Slave to Authority and Opinion, of which I ſhall give ſome Inſtances.
In the beginning of his Eſſay he lays down this Maxim:
Where he would inſinuate, that they alone are fit to be Cri⯑ticks who have ſhewn themſelves great Poets. And he brings in Pliny to confirm by his Authority the Truth of a Precept, which is denied by matter of Fact, and by the Experience of above Two thouſand Years.
It has been obſerved by Writers of Politicks, That they who have ſucceeded beſt in theſe kind of Writings, have never been either Governours of Provinces, or Miniſters of State, as Plato and Ariſtotle in Greece, Machiavel in Italy, and in this Iſland Harrington. I will not ſay that this may be applied to Criticks. There are and have been very good ones who have been great Poets, as Horace in Italy, Boileau in France, and in Great Britain my Lord Roſcommon, and a living noble Author. Nay I am fully convinc'd, that there never was an admirable Poet, but he was a great Critick. For what can be more abſurd than to imagine, that any Man can excel in any Art, or Buſineſs, or Profeſſion, who [3] does not underſtand that Profeſſion, Art, or Buſineſs. Now he who underſtands the Art of Poetry is a Critick in Poetry. But this is undeniable at the ſame time, that there have been Criticks, who have been approv'd of by all the World, who never meddled with Poetry. Was Ariſtotle himſelf, the very Father of Criticks, a Poet? Why yes, 'tis pretended that there is a Fragment of an Ode, which was writ by him, remaining in Athenaeus. But is that ſuf⯑ficient to denominate him a Poet? Did he ever write either Tragedy or Epick Poem? And yet how freely did he cen⯑ſure both Tragick and Epick Poets? Dionyſius Halicarnaſſaeus, and Dionyſius Longinus among the Greeks, and Quintilian a⯑mong the Romans were free Cenſurers, yet no Poets. And ſo are Boſſu and Dacier at preſent among the French. And what is ſtill more remarkable, is, that this young Author forgets himſelf to that degree, as to commend Longinus and Quintilian for accompliſh'd Criticks contrary to his own Precept.
Another Inſtance which I ſhall give of his being a Slave to Authority and Opinion, is the ſervile Deference which he pays to the Ancients.
Which is juſt the oppoſite Extravagance and Extreme to that of Monſieur Perrault.
For the French-man with an inſolent Stupidity contemn'd and blaſphem'd, even thoſe Hero's of Antiquity, whoſe Wri⯑tings are admirable and Divine: This Eſſayer deifies Au⯑thors, whoſe Writings are but tolerable and indifferent. Boileau, as a reaſonable Man, took the Path that lay in the middle of the two Extremes, as we ſhall ſee by what follows.
Thus hath Boileau determin'd this matter like a dextrous Diſtinguiſher, and a moſt rightful Judge. If I may be al⯑low'd to ſpeak my Sentiments after ſo great a Maſter, I muſt freely declare my Opinion, that of all the Poets a⯑mong the Graecians, I only admire Homer, Sophocles, Pindar, and Euripides, tho' I am very much pleas'd with ſome of the reſt; and of all the Poets among the Romans, I admire on⯑ly Virgil and Horace, and ſome parts of Lucretius; tho' I am very much pleas'd with Catullus, Tibullus, Terence, and others. For as for Lycophron, Nonnus, Apollonius Rhodius, Valerius Flaccus, Silius Italicus, Statius, I prefer the Para⯑diſe lost of Milton before them all together: Nay I will go yet farther, and declare, that tho' I muſt freely own, that Virgil has infinitely the Advantage of Milton, in the wonderful Contrivance of his Poem, in the Harmony of his Verſification, and in the conſtant Tenor of his Majeſty, and his Elevation; yet that Milton in ſome particular parts of his Poem has the Advantage of Virgil, and of Mankind. [5] And tho' I can by no means believe Shakeſpear to be of equal Merit with Sophocles or Euripides, for which I ſhall give my Reaſons in another place; yet this I can ſay for the Honour of my Countryman, and of Great Britain, that there are ſeveral ſingle Scenes in Shakeſpear, which I prefer to all the Tragedies put together of which Seneca is accounted the Author.
I ſhall give one more Inſtance, by which it will appear that while this Youngſter is pretending to give Laws, he behaves himſelf like one who is ſtill in awe of the Rod; that he admires the Ancients, becauſe his Maſter tells him that they muſt be admir'd; and that if the Ancients were his Contemporaries, and produc'd the ſame Writings now which they did formerly, he would uſe them with the ſame Inſolence with which he treats his Contemporaries. In the 8th Page of this Eſſay, he gives a verboſe and indigeſted Encomium of the firſt Graecian Criticks, but forgets and contradicts himſelf before he comes to the bottom of that very Page. For, ſays he,
Never was any thing more obſcure and confus'd than the foregoing Rhimes; but if there is any meaning in them, it muſt be that which follows.
At firſt Poets and Criticks were all one; and theſe Po⯑ets made uſe of their Criticiſm only to make their Poetry more charming, and more accompliſh'd. But the Wits who immediately follow'd after them, deviated from the Deſign of their Predeceſſors; and not being able to attain to Poetry, took up a Reſolution to drive a ſeparate Trade, and to ſet up only for Criticks. If this is not his meaning, I ſhould be glad to hear in Proſe, and in plain Engliſh what his meaning is; for Rhime has been always a wicked Abettor and Concealer of Nonſenſe. But if this is his meaning, then I deſire to make theſe two Remarks, Firſt, that the ancienteſt Criticks among the Graecians were not [6] Poets, as we obſerv'd before; and Secondly, that if Ari⯑ſtotle and Dionyſius Halicarnaſſaeus, and others were now a⯑live, and their excellent Criticiſms were now firſt to ap⯑pear, it would be objected to thoſe great Men, in order to diſqualify them for Criticks, that they were no Verſifyers. And it is plain from the 2d Page that another Objection would be made to them: For when he comes there to ſpeak of the Moderns, he tells us,
Now it being evident, that the Criticiſms of Ariſtotle and of Dionyſius Halicarnaſſaeus are writ with a great deal of Simpli⯑city, 'tis manifeſt that if thoſe two Criticks had writ but yeſterday, they would be accus'd to day of being drily plain, and of writing dull Receipts.
But a third infallible mark of a young Author, is, that he hath done in this Eſſay what School-boys do by their Exerciſes, he hath borrow'd both from Living and Dead, and particularly from the Authors of the two famous Eſſays upon Poetry and Tranſlated Verſe; but ſo borrow'd, that he ſeems to have the very Reverſe of Midas's noble Facul⯑ty. For as the courſeſt and the dulleſt Metals, were upon the touch of that Lydian Monarch immediately chang'd into fine Gold; ſo the fineſt Gold upon this Author's handling it, in a moment loſes both its luſtre and its weight, and is immediately turn'd to Lead.
A fourth thing that ſhews him a young man, is the not knowing his own mind, and his frequent Contradictions of himſelf. His Title ſeems to promiſe an Eſſay upon Criti⯑ciſm in general, which afterwards dwindles to an Eſſay upon Criticiſm in Poetry. And after all, he is all along giving Rules, ſuch as they are, for Writing rather than Judging. In the beginning of the 8th Page the Rules are nothing but Nature.
But no ſooner is he come to the 10th Page, but the Rules and Nature are two different things.
But in the laſt Line of this very Paragraph they are the ſame things again.
But to this he will anſwer, That he is guilty of no Con⯑tradiction, that he is only ſhewing that Virgil was guilty of Error and Ignorance; who firſt abſurdly began to write his Aeneis, and afterwards ſate down to learn the Rules of Wri⯑ting; which when he began to write that Poem, he took to be things diſtinct from Nature; but that after he had wrote part of it, he fell to the reading of Homer, and that undeceiv'd him. That while he is talking of Virgil's Er⯑ror and Ignorance, he is making a Parade of his own in⯑comparable Wiſdom and Knowledge; and not contradict⯑ing himſelf, but Virgil, or rather making him appear in⯑conſiſtent with and contradicting himſelf: for that tho' Vir⯑gil took the Rules and Nature to be diſtinct from each other, for his own part he is wiſer, and knows better things. Now is not this a very modeſt and a very judicious Gentleman?
A fifth Sign of his being a young Author is his being almoſt perpetually in the wrong. And here in relation to the foregoing paſſage, I might deſire to ask him one or two civil Queſtions. Firſt, who acquainted him with that noble Particularity of Virgil's Life, that he deſigned to write his Aeneis without Art? Had he it from ancient or modern Authors, or does he owe it to a noble Effort of his own ſagacious Soul? If Virgil had ſo little Know⯑ledge of the Rules of his own Art, and ſo very little true Judgment within him, as to be capable of ſuch an Extravagance, an Extravagance which, ſays this Eſſayer, nothing but the reading of Homer was able to correct, how comes he ſo far to have ſurpaſs'd his Maſter in the admirable Contrivance of his Poem. But ſecondly, what [8] does he mean by Maro's deſigning a Work to outlaſt immortal Rome? Does he pretend to put that Figure, call'd a Bull upon Virgil? Or would he ambitiouſly have it paſs for his own? 'Tis no wonder that one who is ca⯑pable of imputing ſo great an Extravagance to Virgil, ſhould be capable of writing himſelf without any manner of meaning.
Whenever we find a Simile, the firſt Line of it is like a Warning-piece, to give us notice that ſomething ex⯑traordinary falſe or fooliſh is to follow. We have one in the 6th Page, where the former and the latter part have not the leaſt relation, and bear not the leaſt proportion to one another.
Here the Soul in the third Verſe is made to anſwer to Land in the firſt, and Memory to Ocean, which in the fourth Verſe is chang'd for Underſtanding; tho' in this Simile the Author ſhews neither Memory nor Under⯑ſtanding; for there are as many Abſurdities in it as there are Lines. At this rate a man may make a thou⯑ſand Similes in an hour! Any thing may become like to any thing. Jungentur jam Gryphes Equis. But what a thoughtleſs Creature is this Eſſayer, to deny in theſe very Rhimes, by which he pretends to ſhew both Poetry and Criticiſm, the co-exiſtence of thoſe Qualities, without which 'tis impoſſible to be both Poet and Critick? Be⯑ſides, how wrong is this; and how many Perſons have I known who have had all theſe Qualities at the ſame time in a very great degree? What follows is more wrong and more abſurd:
[9] Is not this a rare Pretender to Poetry and Criticiſm, who talks at this rate, when all the World knows that 'tis impoſ⯑ſible for a Man with only one Science to be either Poet or Critick? Which is ſo much the more unlucky, becauſe the very Fathers of Poetry and Criticiſm Homer and Ariſtotle, whom he mentions ſo often in this Eſſay, are believed to have had all the Sciences. 'Tis now between Two and three thouſand Years ſince Ariſtotle wrote his Morals, his Politicks, his Rhetorick, and his Poetick; and three of theſe are the very beſt in their kinds to this very day, and have infinitely the Advantage of all thoſe ſeveral thouſand Treatiſes that have been writ ſince. What fol⯑lows is ſtill more falſe and more abominable.
What a wretched narrow Soul hath this Eſſayer? And what a thoughtleſs one—when Homer, whom he men⯑tions ſo often in this Eſſay, had as admirable a Talent for Pleaſantry, as he had a Genius equal to the moſt exalted Poetry? To come to the Romans, Horace is famous both for Elevation and Pleaſantry. Virgil ſuc⯑ceeded in his Bucolicks and Georgicks, as well as he did in his Aeneis. To deſcend to the Moderns, Shakeſpear had a very good Genius for Tragedy, and a very good Talent for Comedy. And ſince him Otway had likewiſe a Talent for both.
But in the next Page there is likewiſe a Simile; and therefore we may be ſure, as we obſerv'd above, that moſt of that Page is one continued Abſurdity. P. 7.
Now here would I fain ask one or two Queſtions? Is he giving Rules here for Judging or for Writing? And is he preſcribing thoſe Rules to the Knowing or the Ig⯑norant? [10] If he ſays to the Knowing, what is it that he tells them here? That they muſt judge according to Na⯑ture, or write according to Nature. Now does he tell them any thing in this that they did not know before? Well, but he ſays, he is laying down theſe Rules for the Ignorant; why then I humbly conceive that he ought to have told them what he means by Nature, and what it is to write or to judge according to Nature. For by expreſſing himſelf at the rate that he does, he neither ſays any thing to the Learned which they did not know before, nor any thing to the Ignorant which they can poſſibly un⯑derſtand. Horace proceeded in a very different Method from this, when he was to acquaint the Piſo's what was the principal Source of good Writing, he not only told them that it was moral Philoſophy,
But pointed to the very Books where they might find that moral Philoſophy,
So that in one we have a clear and perſpicuous Precept, and in the other an obſcure and unintelligible Jargon. But let us go on.
That is, as much as to ſay, Artis est celare artem, the com⯑mon Subject that Pedants give their Boys to make Themes and Declamations upon. Is not this a noble Diſcovery? Well but now for the Simile;
This Youngſter has not memory enough to know what he ſaid ſix Lines before;
In the fifth Line of this Page it was Nature that
And here in the 10th we are told that 'tis Art that
But how abſurdly is Art compar'd to the Soul, to which only Genius can be juſtly compar'd, according to the Ob⯑ſervation in the Eſſay upon Poetry. But let us go on, and we ſhall find that as all that went before this Simile is un⯑intelligible, ſo all is mighty abſurd that follows it.
By the way what rare Numbers are here? Would not one ſwear that this Youngſter had eſpous'd ſome antiquated Muſe, who had ſued out a Divorce upon the account of Impotence from ſome ſuperannuated Sinner; and who ha⯑ving been pox'd by her former Spouſe, has got the Gout in her decrepit Age, which makes her hobble ſo damnably—Why, this is more diſmal than the Italian Opera, both that and the Eſſay are but ſounds; but that is Harmony, and this is Diſcord.
But now, my dear Friend, if I had young Mr. Bays here, I would deſire that I might ask him one Queſtion, and he not be angry. And that is, what he means by
But let us go on, and ſee if 'tis poſſible to find it out with⯑out him.
[12] That is as much as to ſay, there are People who have tha [...] which they call Wit, without one dram of Judgment. [...] not this another wonderful Diſcovery? But I fancy tha [...] Mr. Bays has the Misfortune to be wrong in the firſt Verſ [...] of the foreſaid Couplet.
What a Devil, Mr. Bays, they cannot be at ſtrife ſure, af⯑ter they are parted, after Wit has made an Elopement, [...] has been barbarouſly forſaken by Judgment, or turn'd to ſe⯑parate maintenance▪ Much leſs can they be at ſtrife whe [...] they never came together, which is the Caſe in the Eſſay▪ But now we talk of Man and Wife, let us conſider the Yoke-fellow to the former Rhime.
Now cannot I for my Soul conceive the reciprocal Aid that there is between Wit and Judgment. For tho' I can eaſily conceive how Judgment may keep Wit in her. Senſes, yet cannot I poſſibly underſtand how Wit can controul, or re⯑dreſs, or be a help to Judgment.
If Mr. Bays in that Couplet
Intended to ſay that People have ſometimes ſtore of falſe Wit without Judgment to manage it, he intended nothing but what all the World knew before. But if he meant to fay this of true Wit, nothing can be more miſtaken; for I cannot conceive how any one can have ſtore of Wit without Judgment. I believe that Father Bouheurs has given a to⯑lerable Deſcription of Wit in his Treatiſe upon that Sub⯑ject, C'est un ſolide qxi brille: ‘Tis a ſhining Solid, like a Diamond, which the more ſolid it is, is always the more glittering; and derives its height of Luſtre from its per⯑fect Solidity.’ Now how any thing in the Works of the Mind can be ſolid without Judgment, I leave Mr. Bays to conſider.
[13] But let us paſs to the 18th Page, at the bottom of which we ſhall find another Simile, and conſequently another Ab⯑ſurdity.
Which in Proſe and plain Engliſh runs thus:
In the 20th Page we have another Simile, and conſequent⯑ly another Abſurdity.
Which is borrow'd from the Eſſay on Poetry.
But awkardly borrow'd, and utterly ſpoil'd in the remo⯑val. For what can Expreſſion be properly ſaid to ſhine upon? True Wit, or Genius; for that the noble Author means, as is plain from ſeveral parts of his Poem, ſhines thro' and diſcovers it ſelf by the Expreſſion; but Expreſ⯑ſion, at the very beſt, can but ſhine with a borrow'd Light, like the Moon and the reſt of the Planets, whereas Genius ſhines and flames with its own Celeſtial Fire.
His Inſtructions, his Aſſertions, his Commendations, his Cenſures, his Advice, wherever they are his own, are ei⯑ther falſe or trivial, or both. Such is that in the beginning of the twelfth Page.
[14] Thus is this Eſſayer for a double Diſpenſing Power in Kings and ancient Authors, and is for making the Mo⯑derns doubly Slaves, Slaves in their Actions, and Slaves in their Writings. But as we boldly deny that Kings have either Power to make Laws, or to diſpenſe with them after they are made; ſo thoſe Laws of Writing were nei⯑ther made by the Ancients, nor can thoſe Ancients diſ⯑penſe with them. As they are the Laws of Nature, and not of Men, as he has himſelf hinted in the beginning of the 8th Page.
They are eternal and irrevocable, and never to be diſ⯑pens'd with but by Nature that made them; and the only Rule for that Diſpenſation is this, that a leſs Law may be violated to avoid the infringing of a greater; and 'tis e⯑qually the Duty both of Ancients and Moderns, to break thro' a leſs important Rule, when without that Infringe⯑ment a greater muſt be violated, or the great End of all the Rules neglected. The great End of all the Rules is to inſtruct, and the ſubordinate End is to pleaſe, by moving of Paſſion, and particularly that kind of Paſſion which ought chiefly to reign in that ſort of Poetry in which the Poet writes. Now 'tis a Rule in Poetry, that the notori⯑ous Events of Hiſtory are not to be falſifyed, nor the Pe⯑riods of Time tranſpos'd or confounded. And yet Virgil in the fourth of his Aeneis, broke thro' this Rule at once by a bold and a judicious Anachroniſm, in order to make his Poem more admirable, and the more to exalt the Glory of the Roman Name. Whatever the Ancients juſtly did, the Moderns may juſtly do. 'Tis ridiculous and pedan⯑tick to imagine, that the natural Powers of the Soul were ſtronger or more excellent in the Ancients than they are in the Moderns. And as to Experience we have vaſtly the Advantage of them. When we conſider Experience, as my Lord Bacon obſerves, we are properly the Ancients, who live in the elder Ages of the World, and have the Advantage of the Knowledge of Three thouſand Years over the firſt Writers. Not but that at the ſame time that I aſſert the Equality of Faculties in the Moderns, [15] and the Advantage of their Experience, I freely acknow⯑ledge the actual Preheminence that ſeveral of the Ancients have over the Moderns; but I have ſufficiently ſhewn in the Advancement of Modern Poetry, that that actual Pre⯑heminence proceeded from accidental Cauſes, and not from any Superiority of Faculties in thoſe ancient Au⯑thors.
At the bottom of the ſame Page 12. there is ſomething aſſerted that is both falſe and impudent; where ſpeaking of the Ancients, he tells us,
Which is a preſumptuous Contradiction of Horace ▪
And of my Lord Roſcommon.
And is in effect to declare that Horace was a Dreamer, and my Lord Roſcommon a Dotard, and I, my Maſters, on⯑ly I, am alerte and eueillè, only I am the man of Im⯑portance.
In the beginning of the 21ſt Page there is ſomething too very wrong.
This being directed to all without Exception, and deliver'd without Limitation or Reſtriction, is another flat Contra⯑diction of Horace.
This is likewiſe a Libel upon the memory of Mr. Dryden whom he pretends to admire; for never any one was a greater Coiner than he, and it is directly contrary to the Improvement of Languages; for it Chaucer and ſucceeding Authors had had this Advice given them, and had been weak enough to take it, how could our Language ever have improv'd in Purity, in Force, in Grace, or in Har⯑mony? But if it was allow'd to Chaucer, and thoſe who im⯑mediately follow'd him, why muſt it be deny'd to thoſe who have liv'd ſince.
I muſt confeſs if we ſpeak with relation to the conſtant and general Practice of a Writer, he ought to take what the French call the beſt Uſe, for the Miſtreſs of the Lan⯑guage in which he writes; but a great Poet if he writes in the Language which he was born to ſpeak, may be al⯑low'd the Privilege ſometimes to coin new words, and ſome⯑times to revive the old, which laſt ſucceeded ſo well to Milton.
About the middle of the 22d Page he gives Advice, which ſhews him very inconſiſtent with himſelf.
How vaſtly different is this from what he pretends to ad⯑viſe at the bottom of the 9th Page.
Now he who is familiar with Homer, and intimate with Virgil, will not be extremely affected either with the Sweetneſs of Waller, or the Force of Denham. He re⯑quires ſomething that is far above the Level of modern Authors, ſomething that is great and wonderful. If I were to recommend a Britiſh Poet to one who has been ha⯑bituated to Homer and Virgil, I would for the Honour of my Country, and of my own Judgment adviſe him to read Milton; who very often equals both the Graecian and the Roman in their extraordinary Qualities, and ſometimes ſurpaſſes them, is more lofty, more terrible, more vehe⯑ment, more aſtoniſhing, and has more impetuous and more divine Raptures. I will not deny but that Waller has Sweetneſs, and Denham Force; but their good and their ſhining Qualities are ſo ſophiſticated and debauch'd with theſe modern Vices of Conceit, and Point, and Turn, and Epigram, that 'tis impoſſible they can affect in an extraor⯑dinary manner thoſe who have been long acquainted with the Ancients.
There is in the 38th and the 39th Pages another Incon⯑ſiſtency, which I deſire to lay before the Reader. In the 38th Page he ſpeaks of Horace thus:
Before he goes ten Lines farther, he forgets himſelf, and commends Longinus for the very contrary Quality for which he commended Horace, and for the very ſame thing for which he condemns his Contemporaries.
He commends Horace for judging cooly in Verſe, and ex⯑tols Longinus for criticizing with Fire in Proſe. What a miſerable Slave is this Author to Opinion? Can any thing be more plain, than that he condemns his Contempora⯑ries for no other reaſon but becauſe they are his Contem⯑poraries; and commends Longinus for no other reaſon but becauſe he has been approv'd of by others. For why ſhould not a modern Critick imitate the great Qualities of Longinus; and when he treats of a Subject which is ſub⯑lime, treat of it ſublimely? Now he who writes any thing with Sublimity, let it be Proſe or Verſe, let it be Criticiſm or Poetry, writes ſometimes with Fury, as Lon⯑ginus hath ſhewn both by his Doctrine and his Example in the firſt Chapter of his Treatiſe.
But pray who are theſe Moderns that judge with Fury, and write with Flegm? Who are they that have writ both Criticiſm and Poetry, who have not in their Poetry ſhewn a thouſand times this Eſſayer's Fire? Who is there among them that is not above borrowing ſo openly and ſo awkwardly from the moſt known Authors? For what Reader is ſo unacquainted with our Engliſh Poe⯑try, as not to know that he has taken this laſt Couplet with a very little variation from the Eſſay on Tranſlated Verſe?
But what is a perſpicuous ſenſible Precept in my Lord Roſ⯑common, as ſoon as this Eſſayer handles it, becomes a groſ [...] Abſurdity and a palpable Contradiction.
In the 28th Page there are no leſs than two or three Ab⯑ſurdities in the compaſs of four Lines.
Now what does young Mr. Bays mean by our ſecond Life, and by bare Threeſcore? If he ſpeaks of himſelf, and means threeſcore Days, he means too much in Reaſon: But if he ſpeaks of Chaucer, Spencer, and Shakeſpear, and means threeſcore Years, he means too little in Conſcience. 'Tis now a hundred Years ſince Shakeſpear began to write, more ſince Spencer flouriſhed, and above 300 Years ſince Chaucer died. And yet the Fame of none of theſe is extinguiſh'd. The Reaſon that he gives for this is falſe too.
Mr. Waller may ſuffice to ſhew the Falſity of this, 'Tis above threeſcore Years ſince that Gentleman began to write, and yet his Language is ſtill good and new. Thus we find that the Aſſertion is falſe here, the Reaſon of it falſe; and we ſhall find anon that the Inference is falſe too.
That is, ſhall grow obſolete and neglected, and be either forgot, or be read but by a few.
Whether the Language of Mr. Dryden will ever be as obſolete as is at preſent that of Chaucer, is what neither this Author nor any one elſe can tell. For ev'ry Lan⯑guage hath its particular period of Time to bring it to Perfection, I mean to all the Perfection of which that Language is capable. And they who are alive cannot poſſibly tell whether that period hath happen'd or not: If that period has not yet happen'd; yet 'tis not the Obſoleteneſs of Language which makes a Poet fall from the Reputation which he once enjoy'd, provided the Language in which that Poet wrote was at the Time of his Writing come to be capable of Harmony. For Spen⯑cer is obſolete, yet is ſtill renown'd. That which makes an Author fall from his former Reputation, is, ſays Boi⯑leau, in his ſeventh Reflection upon Longinus, his not [20] having attain'd to that Point of Solidity and Perfection, which are neceſſary to give a never dying Eſteem to his Works. For Example, ſays he, the Latin Tongue in which Cicero and Virgil wrote, was already very much alter'd in the Time of Quintilian and of Aulus Gellius; and yet Cicero and Virgil were more eſteem'd when thoſe Criticks wrote, than they were in their own Age, be⯑cauſe they had as it were by their Writings fix'd the Roman Language, having attain'd to that Point of Soli⯑dity and Perfection which I have mention'd above.
If we reflect upon that miſerable Taſt which reigns now among our Readers, and that want of Genius which is ſo deplorable in our preſent Writers, and that Taſt and Genius daily more and more decline, we may with⯑out being Prophets foretel, according to the foremen⯑tion'd Obſervation of the Solidity and Perfection of Po⯑ems, that the Language is not like to alter to the Diſ⯑advantage of thoſe Poets, whoſe Works are the only Remains of them here below. But be that as it will, yet this is certain, that Mr. Dryden had one Quality in his Language, which Chaucer had not, and which muſt always remain. For having acquir'd ſome Juſtneſs of Numbers, and ſome Truth of Harmony and of Verſi⯑fication, to which Chaucer thro' the Rudeneſs of the Language, or want of Ear, or want of Experience, or rather perhaps a mixture of all, could not poſſibly at⯑tain, that Juſtneſs of Numbers, and Truth of Harmony and of Verſification can never be deſtroy'd by any altera⯑tion of Language; and therefore Mr. Dryden whatever alteration happens to the Language, can never be like to Chaucer.
Wherever this Gentleman talks of Wit, he is ſure to ſay ſomething that is very fooliſh, as Page 29.
Here again I deſire leave to ask two or three Que⯑ſtions. Firſt, how can Wit be ſcorn'd where it is not? Is not this a Figure frequently employ'd in Hibernian [21] Land? The Perſon who wants this Wit may indeed be ſcorn'd; but ſuch a Contempt declares the Honour that the Contemner has for Wit. But ſecondly, what does he mean by acquir'd Wit? Does he mean Genius by the word Wit, or Conceit and Point? If he means Ge⯑nius, that is certainly never to be acquir'd; and the Perſon who ſhould pretend to acquire it, would be al⯑ways ſecure from Envy. But if by Wit he means Con⯑ceit and Point, thoſe are things that ought never to be in Poetry, unleſs by chance ſometimes in the Epigram, or in Comedy, where it is proper to the Character and the Occaſion; and ev'n in Comedy it ought always to give place to Humour, and ev'n to be loſt and abſorp'd in that, according to the Precept of the noble Author of the Eſſay on Poetry.
In the beginning of the 33d Page there is a Couplet of Advice, the firſt line of which is very impertinent, and the ſecond very wrong.
Now who are the Perſons to whom he is giving Advice here? Why, to Poets or Criticks, or both; but the Per⯑ſons to whom he ought to be ſpeaking are Criticks, that is, People who pretend to inſtruct others. But can any man of common Senſe want to be told, that he ought not to pretend to inſtruct others, as long as he doubts of the Truth of his own Precepts?
But what can be more wrong or more abſurd than the latter Verſe of the Couplet?
Now I ſhould think that when a man is ſure, 'tis his Duty to ſpeak with a modeſt Aſſurance; ſince in do⯑ing otherwiſe he betrays the Truth, eſpecially when he [22] ſpeaks to thoſe who are guided more by Imagination than they are by Judgment, which is the Caſe of three parts of the World, and three parts of the other Part.
He is ſo great a Lover of Falſhood, that whenever he has a mind to calumniate his Contemporaries, he up⯑braids them with ſome Defect, which is juſt contrary to ſome good Quality for which all their Friends and their Acquaintance commend them. As for Example, if a Man is remarkable for the extraordinary Deference which he pays to the Opinions and the Remonſtrances of his Friends, him he Libels for his Impatience under Reproof. On the contrary, if he has a mind to extol the Ancients, he paſſes by either thro' Envy or Igno⯑rance all the great Qualities which they have, and ex⯑tols them for ſome peculiar one, the very want of which is known to all the World to be their Infirmity and their Defect. Thus in the 37th Page he takes occaſion to commend Ariſtotle for what he wrote in Phyſicks, a great deal of which is ſo juſtly cenſur'd and condemn'd ev'n by the ſame learned and judicious Men, who allow his Aethicks, his Politicks, his Rhetorick, and his Poe⯑tick, to be worthy of the greateſt Philoſopher. And here as the Commendation which he gives him is falſe, the manner of giving it is ſtill more falſe. For, ſays he,
The Expreſſion in the firſt Verſe is not only abſurd, but blaſphemous. The Laws of Nature are unalterable and indiſpenſable but by God himſelf; and the greateſt Excel⯑lence to which the wiſeſt Philoſopher can attain, is not to controul, but to obey Nature.
In the Libel upon King Charles the Second, he has not only endeavour'd to brand the Memory of that Prince for ſomething which is utterly falſe, but for ſomething which if it had been true had been an Ex⯑cellence in that Prince. For Wits, ſays he, in that Mo⯑narch's Reign had Penſions, when all the World knows that it was one of the Faults of that Reign that none [23] of the politer Arts were then encourag'd. For of this we may be ſure, that whenever we have a Prince and Miniſters, who truly underſtand either their own Inte⯑reſt, or that of the Publick, Arts and Learning will be then encourag'd; I mean not ſpeciouſly and pretended⯑ly, but really and ſincerely.
The King of France pretended to encourage Arts by allowing Penſions to ſome few Profeſſors of them, where⯑as at the ſame time he was and is doing a thing, which has a natural Tendency to the driving them out of Eu⯑rope. For by kindling and proſecuting an unjuſt War thro' ſo many different Nations, he has gone a very great way towards the barbarizing the Chriſtian World; and the Arts would have been at a much greater height, than they are now, without any manner of Encouragement from him, if they had been ſuffer'd to have enjoy'd the Quiet of an univerſal Peace. In the ſame manner ſome Perſons of Quality in Great Britain have been kind to ſome par⯑ticular Profeſſors of Poetry; but at the very ſame time, by not only introducing the Italian Opera among us, but by continuing conſtant Encouragers of it to this very day, they are doing a thing which will drive the very Art it ſelf out of the Kingdom, as it has been already driven out of every other Nation; and are depriving their Favourite Authors of more than ever they yet be⯑ſtow'd upon them. Any great Miniſter would now have a glorious Opportunity of being a true Encourager of Poe⯑try, and ev'ry other generous Art, by repreſenting ef⯑fectually to her Majeſty the Miſchief that the Italians do both to her Subjects, and to the Arts, and ſo driving thoſe melodious Ballad-Singers out of the Na⯑tion.
But to return to the Reign of King Charles the Se⯑cond, from which I may ſeem to have in ſome meaſure digreſs'd; there was then indeed a favourable regard ſhewn to Wit, but no real Encouragement. Butler was ſtarv'd at the ſame time that the King had his Book in his Poc⯑ket. Another great Wit lay ſeven Years in Priſon for an inconſiderable Debt, and Otway dar'd not to ſhew his Head for fear of the ſame Fate. Theſe are ſome of the Glories of that Reign according to this Author. For if it be a Vice in a Prince to encourage an Art, 'tis a Vertue [24] to neglect it. What a wretched Creature is this Pretender to Criticiſm and Poetry to keep ſuch a pother about an Art, the Encouragement of which he imputes as Infamy to King Charles the Second?
Well! but he tells us that not only
Here in the compaſs of one poor Line are two deviliſh Bobs for the Court. But 'tis no eaſy matter to tell which way the latter ſquinting Reflection looks. For if he pretends to reflect upon that Prince, for receiving Perſons of Quality who had Wit into his Court, can any thing be more imper⯑tinent than twice in one Line to libel a Monarch for being favourable to that very thing, which he takes ſo much pains in this very Book to recommend to the World? If he means that the young Lords of the Court who pretended to Wit had it not, can any thing be more arrogant than to fly in the Face of all Mankind, and to contradict almoſt the only thing in which all ſorts of People agree, ev'n in this divided Age, Britons and Foreigners, Proteſtants and Papiſts, Whigs and Tories, Churchmen and Diſſenters, and to pre⯑tend to reflect upon Perſons whoſe very Names are their Panegyricks? The young Lords who had Wit in the Court of King Charles the Second, are theſe: The young former Duke of Buckingham, the young Earl of Mulgrave now Duke of Buckingham, the young Lord Buckhurſt afterwards Earl of Dorſet and Middleſex, and the young Marqueſs of Halifax; the young Earl of Rocheſter, the young Lord Vaughan now Lord Carbury, and ſeveral others. If the looking favou⯑rably upon young Perſons of Quality who had Wit, may be imputed as Scandal to the Court of King Charles the Se⯑cond, that Court was certainly the moſt ſcandalous one in Europe. But if he ſays on the other ſide that 'tis diſho⯑nourable to a Prince to be miſtaken in this Point, and to look with a favourable Eye on Pretenders inſtead of real Maſters; to that all the World with one accord wlll an⯑ſwer that never Prince had a clearer Reputation in this Point.
Thus are his Aſſertions, and his Precepts frequently falſe or trivial, or both, his Thoughts very often crude and abortive, his Expreſſions abſurd, his Numbers often harſh [25] and unmuſical, without Cadence and without Variety, his Rhimes trivial and common. He dictates perpetually, and pretends to give Law without any thing of the Simplicity or Majeſty of a Legiſlator, and pronounces Sentence with⯑out any thing of the Plainneſs or Clearneſs, or Gravity of a Judge. Inſtead of Simplicity we have little Conceit and Epigram, and Affectation. Inſtead of Majeſty we have ſomething that is very mean, and inſtead of Gravity we have ſomething that is very boyiſh. And inſtead of Per⯑ſpicuity and lucid Order, we have but too often Obſcurity and Confuſion.
But what moſt ſhews him a very young Author, is, that with all theſe Faults and this Weakneſs he has the Inſolence of a Hero, and is a downright Bully of Parnaſſus, who is ev'ry moment thundr'ing out Fool, Sot, Fop, Coxcomb, Blockhead, and thinks to hide his want of Senſe by his pretended Contempt of others, as a Hector does his want of Courage by his perpetual bluſtring and roaring; and is ſagaciouſly of Opinion, that he arrogates ſo much Senſe to himſelf as he imputes Folly to other People.
By what he ſays Page the 25th, and his returning to the Charge, Page 34, his particular Pique ſeems to be at People of Quality, for whom he appears to have a very great Contempt, I mean for the Authors of that Rank; as if a Man were to aſſert his Title to Parnaſſus, by proving himſelf a Plebeian in Great Britain; or as if an Engliſh So⯑vereign by making a Man honourable, made him dull. Good Gods, how abſolute would our Princes be at that rate! when they would have the very Underſtandings of their Subjects at their diſpoſal, and would need only to prefer the Diſobedient to chaſtiſe them.
I hope, I may without offence, gently put young Mr. Bays in mind, that the Subordination which is abſo⯑lutely neceſſary to the Government of the World requires [26] that Reſpect ſhould be paid to Perſons of Quality, ev'n where Eſteem cannot be paid to them; but that in this caſe they both may and ought to have our Reſpect and Eſteem together. For I know very few People of Quality who have applied themſelves to Poetry, who have not ſuc⯑ceeded; on the other ſide 'tis known to all the World that ſome of them have been admirable. For nothing is more certain than that ſuppoſing equal Talent and equal Appli⯑cation, a Man of Quality has great Advantages over the reſt of Men. But can any thing be more ſtupidly impu⯑dent and impertinent, than that this little Gentleman ſhould rail thus at the Writings of People of Quality in this very Eſſay, the one half of which he has borrow'd from two noble Authors, and appropriated it to himſelf, by the ſame Method by which a Jack-pudding engroſſes a Sack-poſſet, viz. by mingling ſome Beaſtlineſs with it, which does not fail to render it nauſeous to thoſe who made it. This extraordinary Proceeding of borrowing and railing puts me in mind of a Paſſage in Mr. Cowley.
But the Men of Quality, as they want not the Diſcern⯑ment, will have the Satisfaction to ſee, that as there is a great deal of Venom in this little Gentleman's Temper, Nature has very wiſely corrected it with a great deal of Dulneſs.
As there is no Creature in Nature ſo venomous, there is nothing ſo ſtupid and ſo impotent as a hunch-back'd Toad; and a Man muſt be very quiet and very paſſive, and ſtand ſtill to let him faſten his Teeth and his Claws, or be ſur⯑priz'd ſleeping by him, before that Animal can have any power to hurt him.
Thus in order to find out his outward Perſon, have we taken a Survey of his inward Man, in his ſeveral noble Ta⯑lents [27] and Vertues, his Poetry, his Criticiſm, his Modeſty, his Humility, his Gratitude, and his good Breeding. Let us now take a Survey of his Politicks, and his Religion, not by any means by way of Reflection; for Poetry and Criticiſm are of no Party, and of no Religion, but only to find who he is.
I find then that in the compaſs of one Page, which is the thirty firſt, he has Libell'd two Monarchs and two Na⯑tions. The two Monarchs are King Charles and King William: The two Nations are the Dutch and our own. The Dutch we are told are a parcel of Sharpers, and we are downright Bubbles and Fools. King Charles the Se⯑cond was too much a Libertine, and too much an Encou⯑rager of Wit for him; King William the Third was too much a Socinian. But tho' he has without Mercy con⯑demn'd the Reigns of the foremention'd Monarchs, he is graciouſly pleas'd to paſs over in ſilence that which comes between them. In the beginning of the 12th Page, we find what that is which ſo happily reconcil'd him to it, and that was the Diſpenſing Pow'r, which was ſet on foot in order to introduce and to eſtabliſh Popery, and to make it the National Religion. Now I humbly conceive that he who Libels our Confederates, muſt be by Politicks a Jacobite; and he who Libels all the Proteſtant Kings that we have had in this Iſland theſe threeſcore Years, and who juſtifies the Diſpenſing Pow'r ſo long after we are free'd from it, a Pow'r which as was hinted above was ſet on foot on purpoſe to introduce Popery: He who juſtifies this when he lyes under the Tye of no Neceſſity, nor ev'n Conveniency to approve of it, muſt, I humbly conceive, derive his Religion from St. Omer's, as he ſeems to have done his Humanity and his Criticiſm; and is, I ſuppoſe, politickly ſetting up for Poet-Laureat againſt the coming over of the Pretender, which by his Inſolence he ſeems to believe approaching, as People of his Capacity are gene⯑rally very ſanguine.
Let us now ſee if we can find any thing in his Rhimes, which may direct us to his Coffee-houſe, or to his Bookſellers. By his taking three Opportunities to commend Mr. Dryden, in ſo ſmall a compaſs as p. 23, 27, 28, I fancy we may hear of him at Shakeſpear's Head, or at Will's, for to revive old Quarrels which [28] have been long out of doors, and to renew the memo⯑ry of Poetical Wars wag'd formerly between Sir R. B. Mr. L. M. and Mr. Dryden, can be agreeable to none but a very few of the Frequenters of thoſe Places. This is to run counter to his own Direction; for he tells us Page 27. that formerly
Upon which, Page 28, he gives this grave Advice,
The appearing in Mr. Dryden's behalf now is too late. 'Tis like offering a Man's ſelf for a Second, after the Princi⯑pal has been whipp'd through the Lungs. Now Mr. Dry⯑den is dead, he commends him with the reſt of the World. But if this little Gentleman had been his Contemporary thirty Years ago, why then I can tell a very damn'd ſhape that Pride and Malice, and Folly would have appear'd in againſt Mr. Dryden.
For his Acquaintance he names Mr. Walſh. I had the good Fortune to know Mr. Walſh very well; who was a learned, candid, judicious Gentleman. But he had by no means the Qualification which this Author reckons abſo⯑lutely neceſſary to a Critick; it being certain that Mr. Walſh was like this Eſſayer a very indifferent Poet; but he was a Man of a very good Underſtanding, in ſpight of his being a Beau. He lov'd to be well dreſs'd, as Do⯑rimant ſays, and thought it no Diſparagement to his Un⯑derſtanding; and I remember a little young Gentleman, with all the Qualifications which we have found to be in this Author, whom Mr. Walſh us'd ſometimes to take in⯑to his Company as a double Foil to his Perſon, and his Ca⯑pacity. It has been obſerv'd that of late Years a certain Spectre exactly in the ſhape of that little Gentleman, has haunted a certain ancient Wit, and has been by the Peo⯑ple of Covent-Garden ſtyl'd his evil Genius. For it hath been extremely remarkable, that while that Spectre hath haunted that ancient Wit, he has never been able to write [29] or talk like himſelf: Which has by no means happen'd by any Decay of his natural Parts, but by the wonderful Pow'r of Magick. For as ſoon as the dumb Conjurer has been employ'd to lay the Spectre for three or four months, either in the midſt of the Red Sea, or the mid⯑dle of Windſor-Foreſt, the old Gentleman has ſtrait been his own Man as perfectly as ever he was in his Life.
And now if you have a mind to enquire between Sun⯑ning-Hill and Ockingham, for a young, ſquab, ſhort Gentle⯑man, with the forementioned Qualifications, an eternal Writer of Amorous Paſtoral Madrigals, and the very Bow of the God of Love, you will be ſoon directed to him. And pray as ſoon as you have taken a Survey of him, tell me whether he is a proper Author to make per⯑ſonal Reflections on others; and tell him if he does not like my Perſon, 'tis becauſe he is an ungrateful Creature, ſince his Conſcience tells him, that I have been always in⯑finitely delighted with his: So delighted, that I have lately drawn a very graphical Picture of it; but I believe I ſhall keep the Dutch Piece from ever ſeeing the Light, as a certain old Gentleman in Windſor-Forest would have done by the Original, if he durſt have been half as im⯑partial to his own Draught as I have been to mine. This little Author may extol the Ancients as much and as long as he pleaſes, but he has reaſon to thank the good Gods that he was born a Modern. For had he been born of Graecian Parents, and his Father by conſequence had by Law had the abſolute Diſpoſal of him, his Life had been no longer than that of one of his Poems, the Life of half a day. Inſtead of ſetting his Picture to ſhow, I have taken a keener Revenge, and expos'd his Intellectuals, as duly conſidering that let the Perſon of a Gentleman of his Parts be never ſo contemptible, his inward Man is ten times more ridiculous; it being impoſſible that his outward Form, tho' it ſhould be that of downright Monkey, ſhould differ ſo much from human Shape, as his immaterial unthinking part does from human Underſtanding. How agreeable it is to be in a Libel with ſo much good Compa⯑ny as I have been, with two great Monarchs, two mighty Nations, and eſpecially the People of Quality of Great Britain, and this Libel compos'd by a little Gentleman, who has writ a Panegyrick upon himſelf! Which Panegy⯑rick [30] if it was not writ with Judgment, yet was it pub⯑liſh'd with Diſcretion, for it was publiſh'd in Mr. W [...]'s Name; ſo that by this wiſe Proceeding he had the Benefit of the Encomium, and Mr. W [...] had the Scandal of the Poetry: which it brought upon him to ſuch a degree, that 'tis ten to one if ever he recovers the Reputation of a good Verſifyer. And thus for the preſent I take my leave of you and of this little Critick and his Book; a Book throughout which Folly and Ignorance, thoſe Brethren ſo lame and ſo impotent, do ridiculouſly at one and the ſame time look ve⯑ry big and very dull, and ſtrut, and hobble cheek by jowl with their Arms on Kimbo, being led and ſupported, and Bully-back'd by that blind Hector Impudence. I am,