A DISCOURSE ON Antient and Modern LEARNING.

THE preſent Age ſeems to have a ve⯑ry true Taſte of polite Learning, and perhaps takes the Beauties of an antient Au⯑thor, as much as 'tis poſſible for it at ſo great a Diſtance of Time. It may there⯑fore be ſome Entertainment to us to conſi⯑der what Pleaſure the Cotemporaries and Countrymen of our old Writers found in their Works, which we at preſent are not [4] capable of; and whether at the ſame Time the Moderns mayn't have ſome Advantages peculiar to themſelves, and diſcover ſeveral Graces that ariſe merely from the Antiqui⯑ty of an Author.

AND here the firſt and moſt general Ad⯑vantage, the Ancients had over us, was, that they knew all the ſecret Hiſtory of a Compoſure: What was the Occaſion of ſuch a Diſcourſe or Poem, whom ſuch a Sentence aim'd at, what Perſon lay diſguis'd in ſuch a Character: For by this means they cou'd ſee their Author in a Variety of Lights, and receive ſeveral different Entertainments from the ſame Paſſage. We, on the con⯑trary, can only pleaſe ourſelves with the Wit or good Senſe of a Writer, as it ſtands ſtripp'd of all thoſe accidental Circumſtan⯑ces that at firſt help'd to ſet it off: We have him but in a ſingle View, and only diſcover ſuch eſſential ſtanding Beauties as no Time or Years can poſſibly deface.

[5]I DON'T queſtion but Homer, who in the Diverſity of his Characters has far excell'd all other Heroic Poets, had an Eye on ſome real Perſons who were then living, in moſt of 'em. The Deſcription of Therſites is ſo ſpiteful and particular, that I can't but think it one of his own, or his Country's Enemies in diſguiſe; as on the contrary, his Neſtor looks like the Figure of ſome antient and venerable Patriot: An effeminate Fop per⯑haps of thoſe Times lyes hid in Paris, and a crafty Stateſman in Ulyſſes: Patroclus may be a Compliment on a celebrated Friend, and Agamemnon the Deſcription of a majeſtic Prince. Ajax, Hector, and A⯑chilles are all of 'em valiant, but in ſo dif⯑ferent a Manner, as perhaps has characte⯑riſed the different Kinds of Heroiſm that Homer had obſerved in ſome of his great Cotemporaries. Thus far we learn from the Poet's Life, that he endeavoured to gain Favour and Patronage by his Verſe; and 'tis very probable he thought on this Method [6] of ingratiating himſelf with particular Per⯑ſons, as he has made the Drift of the whole Poem a Compliment on his Country in ge⯑neral.

AND to ſhew us, that this is not a bare Conjecture only, we are told in the Account that is left us of Homer, that he inſerted the very Names of ſome of his Cotempora⯑ries. Tychius and Mentor in particular are very neatly celebrated in him. The firſt of theſe was an honeſt Cobler, who had been very kind and ſerviceable to the Poet, and is therefore advanc'd in his Poem, to be A⯑jax's Shield-maker. The other was a great Man in Ithaca, who for his Patronage and Wiſdom has gained a very honourable Poſt in the Odyſſes, where he accompanies his great Countryman in his Travels, and gains ſuch a Reputation for his Prudence, that Minerva took his ſhape upon her when ſhe made herſelf viſible. Themius was the Name of Homer's School-maſter, but the [7] Poet has certainly drawn his own Character under, when he ſets him forth as a Favou⯑rite of Apollo, that was deprived of his Sight and uſed to ſing the noble Exploits of the Grecians.

VIRGIL too may well be ſuppos'd to give ſeveral Hints in his Poem, which we are not able to take, and to have lain many bye Deſigns and Under-plots, which are too remote for us to look into diſtinctly at ſo great a Diſtance: But as for the Charac⯑ters of ſuch as lived in his own Time, I have not ſo much to ſay of him as of Ho⯑mer. He is indeed very barren in this Part of his Poem, and has but little varied the Manners of the principal Perſons in it. His Aeneas is a compound of Valour and Piety, Achates calls himſelf his Friend, but takes no Occaſion of ſhewing himſelf ſo; Mneſteus, Sergeſtus, Gyas, and Cloanthus are all of 'em Men of the ſame Stamp and Character.

[8]BESIDES Virgil was ſo very nice and de⯑licate a Writer, that probably he might not think his Compliment to Auguſtus ſo great, or ſo artfully concealed, if he had ſcattered his Praiſes more promiſcuouſly, and made his Court to others in the ſame Poem. Had he entertained any ſuch Deſign Agrippa muſt in juſtice have challenged the ſecond Place, and if Agrippa's Repreſentative had been admitted, Aeneas would have had ve⯑ry little to do; which would not have re⯑dounded much to the Honour of his Em⯑peror. If therefore Virgil has ſhadowed any great Perſons beſides Auguſtus in his Characters, they are to be found only in the meaner Actors of his Poem, among the Diſputers for a petty Victory in the fifth Book, and perhaps in ſome few other Pla⯑ces. I ſhall only mention Iopas the philo⯑ſophical Muſician at Dido's Banquet, where I can't but fancy ſome celebrated Maſter complimented, for methinks the Epithet Crinitus is ſo wholly foreign to the Pur⯑poſe, [9] that it perfectly points at ſome parti⯑cular Perſon; who perhaps (to purſue a wandring Gueſs) was one of the Grecian Performers, then at Rome, for beſides that they were the beſt Muſicians and Philoſo⯑phers, the Termination of the Name be⯑longs to their Language, and the Epithet is the ſame [ [...]] that Homer gives to his Countrymen in general.

Now that we may have a right Notion of the Pleaſure we have loſt on this Account, let us only conſider the different Entertain⯑ment we of the preſent Age meet with, in Mr. Dryden's Abſalom and Achitophel, from what an Engliſh Reader will find a Hund⯑red Years hence, when the Figures of the Perſons concerned are not ſo lively and freſh in the Minds of Poſterity. Nothing can be more delightful than to ſee two Characters facing each other all along, and running parallel through the whole Piece, to com⯑pare Feature with Feature, to find out the [10] nice Reſemblance in every Touch, and to ſee where the Copy fails, and where it comes up to the Original. The Reader can't but be pleas'd to have an Acquaintance thus riſing by degrees in his Imagination, for whilſt the Mind is buſy in applying e⯑very Particular, and adjuſting the ſeveral Parts of the Deſcription, it is not a little delighted with its Diſcoveries, and feels ſomething like the Satisfaction of an Au⯑thor from its own Compoſure.

WHAT is here ſaid of Homer and Virgil holds very ſtrong in the antient Satiriſts and Authors of Dialogues, but eſpecially of Co⯑medies. What could we have made of A⯑riſtophanes's Clouds, had he not told us on whom the Ridicule turn'd; and we have good Reaſon to believe we ſhould have re⯑liſh'd it more than we do, had we known the Deſign of each Character, and the ſe⯑cret Intimations in every Line. Hiſtories themſelves often come down to us defective [11] on this Account, where the Writers are not full enough to give us a perfect Notion of Occurrences, for the Tradition, which at firſt was a Comment on the Story, is now quite loſt, and the Writing only preſerved for the Information of Poſterity.

I MIGHT be very tedious on this Head, but I ſhall only mention another Author, who, I believe, received no ſmall Advan⯑tage from this Conſideration, and that is Theophraſtus, who probably has ſhewn us ſeveral of his Cotemporaries, in the Repre⯑ſentation of his Paſſions and Vices; for we may obſerve in moſt of his Characters ſomething foreign to his Subject, and ſome other Folly or Infirmity mixing itſelf with the principal Argument of his Diſcourſe. His Eye ſeems to have been ſo attentively fixed on the Perſon in whom the Vanity reigned, that other Circumſtances of his Behaviour, beſides thoſe he was to deſcribe, inſinuated themſelves unawares, and crept [12] inſenſibly into the Character. It was hard for him to extract a ſingle Folly out of the whole Maſs, without leaving a little Mix⯑ture in the Separation: So that his particu⯑lar Vice appears ſomething diſcoloured in the Deſcription, and his Diſcourſe, like a Glaſs ſet to catch the Image of any ſingle Object, gives us a lively Reſemblance of what we look for; but at the ſame Time returns a little ſhadowy Landſkip of the Parts that lye about it.

AND, as the Ancients enjoyed no ſmall Privilege above us, in knowing the Perſons hinted at in ſeveral of their Authors; ſo they received a great Advantage, in ſeeing often the Pictures and Images that are fre⯑quently deſcribed in many of their Poets. When Phidias had carved out his Jupiter, and the Spectators ſtood aſtoniſh'd at ſo aw⯑ful and majeſtick a Figure, he ſurprized them more, by telling them it was a Copy: And, to make his Words true, ſhewed them the Original, in that magnificent Deſcripti⯑on [13] of Jupiter, towards the latter End of the firſt Iliad. The comparing both to⯑gether probably diſcover'd ſecret Graces in each of 'em, and gave new Beauty to their Performances: Thus in Virgil's firſt Ae⯑neid, where we ſee the Repreſentation of Rage bound up, and chain'd in the Temple of Janus:

THOUGH we are much pleaſed with ſo wonderful a Deſcription, how muſt the Pleaſure double on thoſe who cou'd com⯑pare the Poet and the Statuary together, and ſee which had put moſt Horror and Diſtraction in his Figure. But we, who live in theſe lower Ages of the World, are ſuch entire Strangers to this Kind of Di⯑verſion, that we often miſtake the Deſcripti⯑on [14] of a Picture for an Allegory, and don't ſo much as know when it is hinted at. Ju⯑venal tells us a Flatterer will not ſtick to compare a weak Pair of Shoulders to Her⯑cules, when he lifts Antaeus from the Earth. Now what a forc'd, unnatural Similitude does this ſeem, amidſt the deep Silence of Scholiaſts and Commentators? But how full of Life and Humour, if we may ſuppoſe it alluded to ſome remarkable Statue of theſe two Champions, that perhaps ſtood in a public Place of the City? There is now in Rome a very antient Statue entangled in a Couple of Marble Serpents, and ſo exactly cut i [...] Laccoon's Poſture and Circumſtances, that we may be ſure Virgil drew after the Statuary, or the Statuary after Virgil: And if the Poet was the Copyer, we may be ſure it was no ſmall Pleaſure to a Roman, that could ſee ſo celebrated an Image out⯑done in the Deſcription.

I MIGHT here expatiate largely on ſeve⯑ral [15] Cuſtoms that are now forgotten, though often intimated by antient authors; and particularly on many Expreſſions of their cotemporary Poets, which they had an Eye upon in their Reflections, tho' we at pre⯑ſent know nothing of the Buſineſs. Thus Ovid begins the ſecond Book of his Elegies, with theſe two Lines:

How far theſe may prove the four Ver⯑ſes prefix'd to Virgil's Aeneid genuine, I ſhall not pretend to determine: But I dare ſay Ovid in this Place hints at 'em if they are ſo, and I believe every Reader will a⯑gree that the Humour of theſe Lines wou'd be very much heightened by ſuch an Allu⯑ſion, if we ſuppoſe a Love Adventure uſh⯑ered in with an Ille Ego, and taking its Riſe from ſomething like a Preface to the Aeneid. Gueſſes might be numberleſs on this Occa⯑ſion, [16] and though ſometimes they may be grounded falſly, yet they often give a new Pleaſure to the Reader, and throw in abun⯑dance of Light on the more intricate and obſcure Paſſages of an antient Author.

BUT there is nothing we want more Di⯑rection in at preſent than the Writings of ſuch antient Authors as abound with Hu⯑mour, eſpecially where the Humour runs in a Kind of Cant and a particular Set of Phraſes. We may indeed in many Places, by the Help of a good Scholiaſt, and Skill in the Cuſtoms and Language of a Coun⯑try, know that ſuch Phraſes are humorous, and ſuch a Metaphor drawn from a ridicu⯑lous Cuſtom; but at the ſame Time the Ri⯑dicule flags, and the Mirth languiſhes to a Modern Reader, who is not ſo converſant and familiar with the Words and Ideas that lye before him; ſo that the Spirit of the Jeſt is quite pall'd and deaden'd, and the Briſkneſs of an Expreſſion loſt to an Ear [17] that is ſo little accuſtomed to it. This Want of diſcerning between the comical and ſeri⯑ous Stile of the Ancients, has run our mo⯑dern Editors and Commentators into a ſenſe⯑leſs Affectation of Terence's and Plautus's Phraſes, when they deſire to appear pure and claſſical in their Language: So that you often ſee the grave Pedant making a Buf⯑foon of himſelf, where he leaſt deſigns it, and running into light and trifling Phraſes, where he would fain appear ſolemn and ju⯑dicious.

ANOTHER great Pleaſure the Ancients had beyond us, if we conſider 'em as the Poet's Countrymen, was, that they lived as it were on the Spot, and within the Verge of the Poem; their Habitations lay among the Scenes of the Aeneid; they cou'd find out their own Country in Homer, and had every Day perhaps in their Sight the Mountain or Field where ſuch an Adven⯑ture happen'd, or ſuch a Battle was fought. [18] Many of 'em had often walk'd on the Banks of Helicon, or the Sides of Parnaſſus, and knew all the private Haunts and Retire⯑ments of the Muſes: So that they liv'd as it were on Fairy Ground, and convers'd in an enchanted Region, where every▪ Thing they look'd upon appear'd romantick, and gave a thouſand pleaſing Hints to their Ima⯑ginations. To conſider Virgil only in this Reſpect: How muſt a Roman have been pleas'd that was well acquainted with the Capes and Promontories, to ſee the Origi⯑nal of their Names, as they ſtand derived from Miſenus, Palinurus and Cajeta? That cou'd follow the Poet's Motions, and attend his Hero in all his Marches from Place to Place? That was very well acquainted with the Lake Amſanctus, where the Fury ſunk, and cou'd lead you to the Mouth of the Cave where Aeneas took his Deſcent for Hell? Their being converſant with the Place where the Poem was tranſacted, gave 'em a greater Reliſh than we can have at [19] preſent of ſeveral Parts of it; as it affected their Imaginations more ſtrongly, and dif⯑fuſed through the whole Narration a great⯑er Air of Truth. The Places ſtood as ſo many Marks and Teſtimonies to the Vera⯑city of the Story that was told of 'em, and helped the Reader to impoſe upon himſelf in the Credibility of the Relation. To con⯑ſider only that Paſſage in the 8th Aeneid, where the Poet brings his Hero acquaint⯑ed with Evander, and gives him a Proſpect of that Circuit of Ground, which was af⯑terwards cover'd with the Metropolis of the World. The Story of Cacus, which he there gives us at large, was probably raiſ⯑ed on ſome old confus'd Tradition of the Place, and if ſo, was doubly entertaining to a Roman, when he ſaw it worked up into ſo noble a Piece of Poetry, as it wou'd have pleas'd an Engliſhman, to have ſeen in Prince Arthur any of the old Traditions of Guy varied and beautified in an Epiſode, had the Chronology ſuffered the Author to [20] have led his Hero into Warwickſhire on that Occaſion. The Map of the Place, which was afterwards the Seat of Rome, muſt have been wonderfully pleaſing to one that lived upon it afterwards, and ſaw all the Alterations that happened in ſuch a Compaſs of Ground: Two Paſſages in it are inimitably fine, which I ſhall here tran⯑ſcribe, and leave the Reader to judge what Impreſſions they made on the Imagination of a Roman, who had every Day before his Eyes the Capitol and the Forum,

[21]And afterwards—ad tecta ſubibant

THERE is another engaging Circumſtance that made Virgil and Homer more particu⯑larly charming to their own Countrymen, than they can poſſibly appear to any of the Moderns; and this they took hold of by chooſing their Heroes out of their own Na⯑tion: For, by this Means, they have hu⯑mour'd and delighted the Vanity of a Greci⯑an or Roman Reader, they have powerfully engaged him on the Hero's Side, and made him, as it were, a Party in every Action; ſo that the Narration renders him more intent, the happy Events raiſe a greater Pleaſure in him, the paſſionate Part more moves him, and in a Word, the whole Poem comes more home, and touches him more nearly, than it would have done, had the Scene lain in another Country, and a Foreigner been the Subject of it. No doubt but the Inha⯑bitants [22] of Ithaca preferr'd the Odyſſes to the Iliad, as the Myrmidons. on the con⯑trary, were not a little proud of their A⯑chilles. The Men of Pylos probably could repeat Word for Word the wiſe Sentences of Neſtor; and we may well ſuppoſe Aga⯑memnon's Countrymen often pleas'd them⯑ſelves with their Prince's Superiority in the Greek Confederacy. I believe therefore, no Engliſhman, reads Homer, or Virgil, with ſuch an inward Triumph of Thought, and ſuch a Paſſion of Glory, as thoſe who ſaw in them the Exploits of their own Country⯑men or Anceſtors. And here by the Way, our Milton has been more univerſally en⯑gaging in the Choice of his Perſons, than any other Poet can poſſibly be. He has o⯑bliged all Mankind, and related the whole Species to the two chief Actors in his Poem. Nay, what is infinitely more conſiderable, we behold in him, not only our Anceſtors, but our Repreſentatives. We are really en⯑gaged in their Adventures, and have a per⯑ſonal [23] Intereſt in their good or ill Succeſs. We are not only their Offspring, but Sharers in their Fortunes; and no leſs than our own eternal Happineſs, or Miſery, depends on their ſingle Conduct: So that ev'ry Rea⯑der will here find himſelf concerned, and have all his Attention and Solicitude raiſed, in every Turn and Circumſtance of the whole Poem.

IF the Ancients took a greater Pleaſure in the Reading of their Poets than the Mo⯑derns can, their Pleaſure ſtill roſe higher in the Peruſal of their Orators; tho' this I muſt confeſs proceeded not ſo much from their Precedence to us in reſpect of Time, as Judgment. Every City among them ſwarm'd with Rhetoricians, and every Se⯑nate-houſe was almoſt filled with Orators; ſo that they were perfectly well vers'd in all the Rules of Rhetorick, and perhaps knew ſeveral Secrets in the Art that let 'em into ſuch Beauties of Demoſthenes, or Cicero, [24] as are not yet diſcovered by a modern Rea⯑der, And this I take to have been the chief Reaſon of that wonderful Efficacy we find aſcrib'd to the antient Oratory, from what we meet with in the preſent; for, in all Arts, every Man is moſt mov'd with the Perfection of 'em, as he underſtands 'em beſt. Now the Rulers of Greece and Rome had generally ſo well accompliſh'd them⯑ſelves in the politer Parts of Learning, that they had a high Reliſh of a noble Ex⯑preſſion, were tranſported with a well turn⯑ed Period, and not a little pleas'd to ſee a Reaſon urg'd in its full force. They knew how proper ſuch a Paſſage was to af⯑fect the Mind, and by admiring it, inſenſibly begot in themſelves ſuch a Motion as the O⯑rator deſir'd. The Paſſion aroſe in 'em un⯑awares, from their conſidering the aptneſs of ſuch Words to raiſe it. Accordingly, we find the Force of Tully's Eloquence ſhew'd itſelf moſt on Caeſar, who probably underſtood it beſt; and Cicero himſelf was [25] ſo affected with Demoſthenes, that 'tis no Wonder when he was aſk'd, which he thought the beſt of his Orations, he ſhou'd reply, The Longeſt. But now the Genera⯑lity of Mankind are ſo wholly ignorant of the Charms of Oratory, that Tully himſelf, who guided the Lords of the whole Earth at his Pleaſure, were he now living, and a Speaker in a modern Aſſembly, wou'd not, with all that divine Pomp and Heat of Elo⯑quence, be able to gain over one Man to his Party. The Vulgar indeed of every Age are equally mov'd by falſe Strains of Rhetorick, but they are not the Perſons I am here concern'd to account for.

THE laſt Circumſtance I ſhall mention, which gave the Ancients a greater Pleaſure in the Reading of their own Authors than we are capable of, is that Knowledge they had of the Sound and Harmony of their Language, which the Moderns have at pre⯑ſent a very imperfect Notion of. We find, [26] ev'n in Muſic, that different Nations have different Taſtes of it, and thoſe who moſt agree have ſome particular Manner and Graces proper to themſelves, that are not ſo agreeable to a Foreigner: Whether or no it be that, as the Temper of the Cli⯑mates varies, it cauſes an Alteration in the animal Spirits, and the Organs of Hearing; or as ſuch Paſſions reign moſt in ſuch a Country, ſo the Sounds are moſt pleaſing that moſt affect thoſe Paſſions; or that the Sounds, which the Ear has been moſt accu⯑ſtomed to, inſenſibly conform the ſecret Tex⯑ture of it to themſelves, and wear in it ſuch Paſſages as are beſt fitted for their own Re⯑ception; or in the laſt Place that our nati⯑onal Prejudice, and Narrowneſs of Mind, makes every thing appear odd to us that is new and uncommon: Whether any one, or all of theſe Reaſons may be looked upon as the Cauſe, we find by certain Experience, that what is tuneful in one Country, is harſh and ungrateful in another. And if this [27] Conſideration holds in muſical Sounds, it does much more in thoſe that are articulate, becauſe there is a greater Variety of Syl⯑lables than of Notes, and the Ear is more accuſtom'd to Speech than Songs. But had we never ſo good an Ear, we have ſtill a fault'ring Tongue, and a Kind of Impedi⯑ment in our Speech. Our Pronunciation is without doubt very widely different from that of the Greeks and Romans; and our Voices, in reſpect of theirs, are ſo out of Tune, that, ſhou'd an Ancient hear us, he wou'd think we were reading in another Tongue, and ſcarce be able to know his own Compoſure, by our Repetition of it. We may be ſure, therefore, whatever ima⯑ginary Notions we may frame to ourſelves, of the Harmony of an Author, they are very different from the Ideas which the Au⯑thor himſelf had of his own Performance.

THUS we ſee how Time has quite worn out, or decay'd ſeveral Beauties of our an⯑tient [28] Authors; but to make a little Amends for the Graces they have loſt, there are ſome few others which they have gather'd from their great Age and Antiquity in the World. And here we may firſt obſerve, how very few Paſſages in their Stile appear flat and low to a modern Reader, or carry in 'em a mean and vulgar Air of Expreſſi⯑on; which certainly ariſes, in a great Mea⯑ſure, from the Death and Difuſe of the Languages in which the Ancients compil'd their Works. Moſt of the Forms of Speech, made uſe of in common Converſation, are apt to ſink the Dignity of a ſerious Stile, and to take off from the Solemnity of the Compoſition that admits them; nay, thoſe very Phraſes, that are in themſelves highly proper and ſignificant, and were at firſt per⯑haps ſtudy'd and elaborate Expreſſions, make but a poor Figure in Writing, after they are once adopted into common Diſcourſe, and ſound over familiar to an Ear that is every where accuſtomed to them. They [29] are too much diſhonour'd by common Uſe, and contract a Meanneſs, by paſſing ſo fre⯑quently through the Mouths of the Vul⯑gar. For this Reaſon, we often meet with ſomething of a Baſeneſs in the Stiles of our beſt Engliſh Authors, which we can't be ſo ſenſible of in the Latin and Greek Writers; becauſe their Language is dead, and no more us'd in our familiar Converſations; ſo that they have now laid aſide all their natural Homelineſs and Simplicity, and appear to us in the Splendor and Formality of Stran⯑gers. We are not intimately enough ac⯑quainted with them, and never met with their Expreſſions but in Print, and that too on a ſerious Occaſion; and therefore find nothing of that Levity or Meanneſs in the Ideas they give us, as they might convey in⯑to their Minds, who uſed 'em as their Mo⯑ther-Tongue. To conſider the Latin Po⯑ets in this Light, Ovid, in his Metamorpho⯑ſis, and Lucan, in ſeveral Parts of him, are not a little beholden to Antiquity, for the [30] Privilege I have here mentioned, who wou'd appear but very plain Men without it; as we may the better find, if we take 'em out of their Numbers, and ſee how naturally they fall into low Proſe. Claudian and Sta⯑tius, on the Contrary, whilſt they endeavour too much to deviate from common and vul⯑gar Phraſes, clog their Verſe with unneceſſa⯑ry Epithets, and ſwell their Stile with for⯑ced unnatural Expreſſions, 'till they have blown it up into Bombaſt; ſo that their Senſe has much ado to ſtruggle thro' their Words. Virgil and Horace, in his Odes, have run between theſe two Extremes, and made their Expreſſions very ſublime, but at the ſame time very natural. This Conſide⯑ration, therefore, leaſt affects them, for, tho' you take their Verſe to Pieces, and diſpoſe of their Words as you pleaſe, you ſtill find ſuch glorious Metaphors, Figures, and Epi⯑thets, as give it too great a Majeſty for Proſe, and look ſomething like the Ruin of a noble Pile, where you ſee broken Pillars, [31] ſcatter'd Obeliſks, maim'd Statues, and a Magnificence in Confuſion.

AND as we are not much offended with the low Idiotiſms of a dead Language, ſo neither are we very ſenſible of any familiar Words that are uſed in it; as we may more particularly obſerve in the Names of Perſons and Places. We find in our Engliſh Wri⯑ters, how much the proper Name of one of our own Countrymen pulls down the Lan⯑guage that ſurrounds it, and familiariſeth a whole Sentence. For our Ears are ſo often uſed to it, that we find ſomething vulgar and common in the Sound and Cant; but fancy the Pomp and Solemnity of Stile too much humbled and depreſs'd by it. For this Rea⯑ſon, the Authors of Poems and Romances, who are not tied up to any particular Set of proper Names, take the Liberty of invent⯑ing new ones, or at leaſt of chuſing ſuch as are not uſed in their own Country; and, by this Means, not a little maintain the [32] Grandeur and Majeſty of their Language. Now the proper Names of a Latin or Greek Author have the ſame Effect upon us as thoſe of a Romance, becauſe we meet with 'em no where elſe but in Books. Cato, Pompey, and Marcelles ſound as great in our Ears, who have none of their Families among us, as Agamemnon, Hector, and A⯑chilles; and therefore, tho' they might flat⯑ten an Oration of Tully to a Roman Reader, they have no ſuch Effect upon an Engliſh one. What I have here ſaid, may perhaps give us the Reaſon why Virgil, when he mentions the Anceſtors of three noble Ro⯑man Families, turns Sergius, Memmius, and Ciuentius, which might have degraded his Verſe too much, into Sergeſtes, Mneſtheus, and Cloanthus, though the three firſt wou'd have been as high and ſonorous to us as the other.

BUT though the Poets could make thus free with the proper Names of Perſons, [33] and in that reſpect enjoy'd a Privilege be⯑yond the Proſe Writers; they lay both un⯑der an equal Obligation, as to the Names of Places: For there is no poetical Geogra⯑phy, Rivers are the ſame in Proſe and Verſe; and the Towns and Countries of a Romance differ nothing from thoſe of a true Hiſtory. How oddly therefore muſt the Name of a paultry Village ſound to thoſe who were well acquainted with the Meanneſs of the Place; and yet how many ſuch Names are to be met with in the Catalogues of Homer and Virgil? Many of their Words muſt therefore very much ſhock the Ear of a Roman or Greek, eſpecially whilſt the Poem was new; and appear as meanly to their own Countrymen, as the Duke of Bucking⯑ham's Putney Pikes and Chelſea Curiaſeers do to an Engliſhman. But theſe their Cata⯑logues have no ſuch diſadvantageous Sounds in 'em to the Ear of a Modern, who ſcarce ever hears of the Names out of the Poet, or knows any thing of the Places that be⯑long [34] to them. London may ſound as well to a Foreigner, as Troy or Rome; and Iſ⯑lington perhaps better than London to them who have no diſtinct Ideas ariſing from the Names. I have here only mention'd the Names of Men and Places; but we may ea⯑ſily carry the Obſervation further, to thoſe of ſeveral Plants, Animals, &c. Thus, where Virgil compares the Flight of Mer⯑cury to that of a Water-Fowl, Servius tells us, that he purpoſely omitted the Word Mergus, that he might not debaſe his Stile with it; which, tho' it might have offended the Niceneſs of a Roman Ear, wou'd have ſounded more tolerable in ours. Scaliger, indeed, ridicules the old Scholiaſt for his Note; becauſe, as he obſerves, the Word Mergus is uſed by the ſame Poet in his Georgics. But the Critic ſhou'd have con⯑ſider'd that, in the Georgics, Virgil ſtudied Deſcription more than Majeſty; and there⯑fore might juſtly admit a low Word into that Poem, which wou'd have diſgraced his [35] Aeneid; eſpecially when a God was to be join'd with it in the Compariſon.

As Antiquity thus conceals what is low and vulgar in an Author, ſo does it draw a Kind of Veil over any Expreſſion that is ſtrain'd above Nature, and recedes too much from the familiar Forms of Speech. A vio⯑lent Greciſm, that wou'd ſtartle a Roman at the Reading of it, ſounds more natural to us, and is leſs diſtinguiſhable from other Parts of the Stile. An obſolete, or a new Word that made a ſtrange Appearance at firſt to the Reader's Eye, is now incorpo⯑rated into the Tongue, and grown of a Piece with the reſt of the Language. And as for any bold Expreſſions in a celebrated Ancient, we are ſo far from diſliking 'em, that moſt Readers ſingle out only ſuch Paſ⯑ſages as are moſt daring to commend; and take it for granted, that the Stile is beauti⯑ful and elegant, where they find it hard and unnatural. Thus has Time mellowed the [36] Works of Antiquity, by qualifying, if I may ſo ſay, the Strength and Rawneſs of their Colours, and caſting into Shades the Light that was at firſt too violent and glaring for the Eye to behold with Pleaſure.