fold or excha:
Sold by &Anethern,
Bookseller, Binder,
Stationer
Printer & Bublisher;
British Library,
132 Shund.
Schools supplicė
on the lowest terms,
Merchants &Gentlemen
going Abroad,
Great allowance to
Ex-Libris
Frederick
Lyman
Geddes
821.2
A. Grditee
3428

Bell
The POETS of GREAT BRITAIN
GOMPLETLPROM
CHATCEK to CHURCHILL.
SA TIRES
*****
BUTLERY OLEME TIT.
SATIRES.
Mortimer det,
Hall Sculp
Printed for John Bell near Exeter Exchange Strand London March 11777-
THE
POETICAL WORKS
OF
SAMUEL BUTLER.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
FROM
THE TEXTS OF DR. GREY AND MR. THYER,
WITH THE
LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, AND NOTES.
Now you muſt know Sir Hudibras
With fuch perfections gifted was,
And fo peculiar in his manner,
That all that faw him did him honour.------HUD. AT COURT,
But fince his worſhip 's dead and gone,
And mould'ring lies beneath this ftone,
The Reader is defir'd to look
For his achievements in h's Book;
Which will preferve of Kught the Tale,
Till Time and Death itself thað Vil.
HUD.'; EPITAPH.
Bell's ſecond edition.
VOL. III.
EDINBURG:
AT THE Apollo Prefs, BY THE MARTIES.
Anno 1784.
THE
POETICALWORKS
OF
SAMUEL BUTLER.
VOL. III.
CONTAINING HIS
GENUINE REMAINS.
Pabliſhed from the
ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS
Formerly in the poffeffion of
WILLIAM LONGUEVILLE, ESQ
BY MR. THYER,
KEEPER OF THE PUBLICK LIBRARY
AT MANCHESTER.
EDINBURG:
AT THE Apollo Prefs, BY THE MARTINS,
Anno 1784.
Fade 4-27-720
Fan PREFACE.
Ir would be very unjust to the memory of a writer
fo much and ſo juſtly eſteemed as Butler, to fup-
pofe it neceffary to make any formal apology for
the publication of thefe Remains. Whatever is the
genuine performance of a genius of his clafs can-
not fail of recommending itſelf to every reader of
taſte; and all that can be required from the Pub-
lifher is to fatisfy the World that it is not impoſed
upon by falſe and fpurious pretenfions.
This has already been attempted in the printed Pro-
pofals for the fubfcription; but as the perifhing
form of a looſe paper feems too frail a monument
to preferve a teftimony of fo much importance, it
cannot, I hope, be judged impertinent to repeat
the ſubſtance of what I obferved upon that occa-
fion-That the manufcripts, from which this Work
is printed, are Butler's own handwriting, as evi-
dently appears from fome original letters of his
found amongst them--That, upon his death, they
fell into the hands ofhisgood friend Mr. W. Longue -
ville, of the Temple, who, as the writer of Butler's
life informs us, was at the charge of burying him
―That, upon Mr. Longueville's deceaſe, they be-
came the property of his fon, the late Charles
Longueville, Efq. who bequeathed them, at his
death, to John Clarke, Efq. and that this gentle-
man has been prevailed upon to part with them,
and favoured me with an authority to infert the
following certificate of their authenticity.
AB
.)
vi
PREFACE.
"I do hereby certify, That the Papers now propofed
to be published by Mr. Thyer, are the original ma-
nufcripts of Mr. Samuel Butler, author of Hudibras,
and were bequeathed to me by the late Charles
Longueville, Efq.
Walgherton, Cheſhire,
Nov. 20, 1754.
JOHN CLARKE."
Although, from evidence of fuch a nature, there can-
not remain the leaf doubt about the genuineness
of this Work, and it be very certain that every
thing in it is the performance of Butler, yet it muſt
be owned, at the fame time, that there is not the
fame degree of perfection and exactneſs in all the
compofitions here printed. Some are finifhed with
the utmoſt accuracy, and were fairly tranſcribed
for the prefs, as far as can be judged from outward
appearance: others, though finifhed, and wrote
with the fame ſpirit and peculiar vein of humour
which diflinguiflies him from all other writers,
feer as if, upon a ſecond review, he would have
retouched and amended in fome little particulars;
and fome few are left unfiniſhed, or at leaſt parts
of them are loft or perified. This acknowledgment
I think due to the Poet's character and memory,
andneceffary to befpeak that candid allowance from
the reader which the Posthumous Works of every
writer have a juſt claim to.
It is, I know, a common obſervation, that it is doing
injuftice to a departed genius to publish fragments,
PREFACE.
vii
er fuch pieces as he had not given the last hand
to.- --Without controverting the juftnefs of this
remark in general, one may, I think, venture to
affirm, that it is not to be extended to every par-
ticular cafe, and that a writer of fo extraordinary
and uncommon a turn as the author of Hudibras
is not to be included under it. It would be a piece
of fooliſh fondneſs to purchaſe at a great expenſe,
or preferve with a particular care, the unfiniſhed
works of every tolerable painter; and yet it is
eſteemed a mark of fine tafte to procure, at almoft
any price, the rough ſketches and half-form'd de-
figns of a Raphael, a Rembrandt, or any cele-
brated mafter. If the elegant remains of a Greek
or Roman ftatuary, though maimed and defective,
are thought worthy of a place in the cabinets of
the polite admirers of antiquity, and the learned
world thinks itſelf obliged to laborious criticks for
handing down to us the half-intelligible fcraps of
an ancient claffick; no reafon can, I think, be
afligned why a genius of more modern date ſhould
not be entitled to the fame privilege, except we
will abfurdly and enthufiaftically fancy that time
gives a value to writings, as well as to coins and
medals. It may be added, too, that as Butler is
not only excellent, but almoft fingular, too, in his
manner of writing, every thing of his muſt acquire
proportionable degree of value and curiofity.
viii
PREFACE.
I fhall not longer detain the reader from better en-
tertainment, by indulging my own fentiments
upon theſe remains; and ſhall rather chufe to wait
for the judgment of the publick, than impertinently
to obtrude my own. It is enough for me that I
have faithfully difcharged the office of an Editor,
and fhall leave to future criticks the pleaſure of cri-
ticifing and remarking, approving or condemning.
The Notes which I have given, the reader will find
to be only fuch as were neceffary to let him into
the Author's meaning, by reciting and explaining
fome circumſtances, not generally known, to which
he alludes; and he cannot but obferve that many
more might have been added, had I given way to
a fondneſs for fcribbling, too common upon fuch
occafions *.
Although my Author ftands in need of no apology
for the appearance he is going to make in the fol-
lowing ſheets, the world may probably think that
the Publiſher does, for not permitting him to do
it fooner. All that I have to fay, and to perfons
of candour I need to fay no more, is, that the de-
lay has been owing to a bad ſtate of health, and a
conſequent indifpofition for a work of this nature,
and not to indolence, or any ſelfiſh narrow views
of my own.
☛ In this edition of Butler's Genuine Remains, a few expla-
natory notes only are retained, ſuch being neceffary to bring
the reader acquainted with feveral circumftances alluded to
In the following Poems, but not generally known.
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
A LEARN'D fociety of late,
The glory of a foreign ftate,
Agreed, upon a fummer's night,
To fearch the Moon by her own light;
To take an invent'ry of all
Her real eſtate, and perſonal;
And make an accurate furvey
Of all her lands, and how they lay,
As true as that of Ireland, where
'The fly furveyors ftole a fhire:
'T' obferve her country how 't was planted,
With what fh' abounded moft, or wanted;
And make the proper' obíervations
For fettling of new plantations,
If the Society fhou'd incline
'T' attempt fo glorious a defign.
5
IO
I
This was the purpoſe of their meeting,
For which they choſe a time as fitting,
When, at the full, her radiant light
And influence too were at their height.
And now the lofty tube, the ſcale
With which they heav'n itſelf affail,
20
This Poem was intended by the Author for a fatyr upon the
Royal Society, which, according to his opinion at leaft, ran
too much at that time into the virtuofi tafte, and a whimfi-
cal fondneſs for ſurpriſing and wonderful ftorics in natural
history.
10
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
Was mounted full againſt the Moon,
And all ſtood ready to fall on,
Impatient who ſhould have the honour
To plant an enfign firſt upon her.
When one, who for his deep belief
Was virtuofo then in chief,
Approv'd the moſt profound, and wife,
To folve impoffibilities,
Advancing gravely, to apply
To th' optick glaſs his judging eye,
Cry'd, Strange!then reinforc'd his fight
Againſt the Moon with all his might,
And bent his penetrating brow,
As if he meant to gaze her thro':
When all the reft began t' admire,
And, like a train, from him took fire,
Surpris'd with wonder, beforehand,
At what they did not underſtand,
Cry'd out, impatient to know what
23
30
33
40
The matter was they wonder'd at.
Quoth he, Th' inhabitants o' th' Moon,
Who, when the fun fhines hot at noon,
Do live in cellars under ground,
45
Of eight miles deep, and eighty round,
(In which at once they fortify
Againſt the fun and th' enemy)
Which they count towns and cities there,
Becauſe their peope´ls civiller
૩૦
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
11
Than thoſe rude peaſants that are found
To live upon the upper ground,
Call'd Privolvans, with whom they are
Perpetually in open war;
And now both armies, highly' enrag'd,
Are in a bloody fight engag'd,
And many fall on both fides flain,
As by the glafs 'tis clear and plain.
Look quickly then, that every one
May fee the fight before 'tis done.
With that a great philofopher,
Admir'd, and famous, far and near,
As one of fingular invention,
But univerſal comprehenfion,
Apply'd one eye, and half a nofe,
Unto the optick engine cloſe :
For he had lately undertook
To prove, and publiſh in a book,
That men, whoſe nat'ral eyes are out,
May, by more pow'rful art, be brought,
To fee with th' empty holes, as plain
As if their eyes were in again;
And if they chanc'd to fail of thoſe,
To make an optick of a noſe,
As clearly' it may, by thoſe that wear
But fpectacles, be made appear,
By which both fenfes being united,
Does render them much better fighted.
55
60
65
70
75
12
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
This great man, having fixt both fights
To view the formidable fights,
Obferv'd his beft, and then cry'd out,
The battle's defperately fought;
80
The gallant Subvolvani rally,
And from their trenches make a fully
Upon the ſtubborn enemy,
85
Who now begin to rout and fly.
Thefe filly ranting Privolvans,
Have ev'ry fummer their campains,
And mufter, like the warlike fons
Of Rawhead and of bloody bones,
As numerous as foland geefe
90
I' th' iflands of the Orcades,
Courageouily to make a ſtand,
And face their neighbours hand to hand,
Until the long 'd-for winter's come,
95
And then return in triumph home,
And spend the reft o' th' year in lies,
And vap'ring of their victories.
From th' old Arcadians they're believ'd
To be, before the Moon, deriv'd,
And when her orb was new created,
To people her were thence tranflated:
For as th' Arcadians were reputed
Of all the Grecians the moft ftupid,
Whom nothing in the world could bring
To civil life, but fiddling,
ICO
105
5
THE ELIPKANT IN THE MOON.
་་
They fill retain the antique courſe
And cuftom of their ancestors,
And always fing and fiddle to
Things of the greateſt weight they do.
IIO
While thus the learn'd man entertains
Th' affembly with the Privolvans,
Another, of as great renown,
And folid judgment, in the Moon,
That understood her various foils,
115
And which produc'd beft genet-moyles,
And in the regiſter of fame
Had enter'd his long-living name,
After he had por'd long and hard
I' th' engine, gave a ſtart, and ſtar’d-
Quoth he, A ſtranger fight appears
Than e'er was feen in all the ſpheres;
A wonder more unparallell'd,
Than ever mortal tube beheld,
An Elephant from one of thoſe
Two mighty armies is broke loofe,
And with the horrour of the fight
Appears amaz'd, and in a fright:
Look quickly, left the fight of us
Shou'd cauſe the ſtartled beaft t' embofs.
It is a large one, far more great
Than e'er was bred in Afric yet,
From which we boldly may infer,
The Moon is much the fruitfuller.
Volume III.
B
120
125
14
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
And fince the mighty Pyrrhus brought
Thofe living caftles firft, 't is thought,
Againſt the Romans, in the field,
It may an argument be held
(Arcadia being but a piece,
As his dominions were, of Greece)
135
140
To prove what this illuftrious perfon
Has made fo noble a diſcourſe on,
And amply fatisfy'd us all
Of th' Privolvans' original.
That Elephants are in the Moon,
145
Tho' we had now difcover'd none,
Is eafily made manifeft,
Since, from the greateſt to the leaſt,
All other ſtars and conftellations
Have cattle of all forts of nations,
150
And heav'n, like a l'artar's hoard,
With great and num'rous droves is ftor'd:
And if the Moon produce by Nature,
A people of ſo vaſt a ſtature,
50
Tis confequent ſhe ſhou'd bring forth
155
Far greater beafts, too, than the earth,
(As by the beſt accounts appears
Of all our great'ſt diſcoverers)
And that thofe monftrous creatures there
Are not fuch rarities as here.
160
Mean-while the reſt had had a fight,
Of all particulars o' th' fight,
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
15
And ev'ry man, with equal care,
Perus'd of th' Elephant his fhare,
Proud of his int'reſt in the glory
Of fo miraculous a ſtory;
When one,
who for his excellence
In height'ning words and fhad'wing fenfe,
And magnifying all he writ
With curious mifcrofcopick wit,
165
170
Was magnify'd himſelf no lefs
In home and foreign colleges,
Began, tranfported with the twang
Of his own trillo, thus t' harangue.
Moſt excellent and virtuous Friends,
This great difcov'ry makes amends
For all our unfuccefsful pains,
And loft expenfe of time and brains:
For, by this fole phænomenon,
We've gotten ground upon the Moon,
And gain'd a paſs, to hold difpute
With all the planets that and out;
To carry this moſt virtuous war
Home to the door of ev'ry ftar,
And plant th' artillery of our tubes
Against their proudeft magnitudes;
To ftretch our victories beyond
Th' extent of planetary ground,
And fix our engines, and our enfigne,
Upon the fix'd ftars' vaft dimenfions,
173
--80
185
هود
Bij
16
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON,
(Which Archimede, fo long ago,
Durft not prefume to wish to do)
And prove if they are other funs,
As fome have held opinions,
Or windows in the empyreum,
From whence thofe bright effluvias come
Like flames of fire (as others gueſs)
That fhine i' the mouths of furnaces.
Nor is this all we have achiev'd,
But more, henceforth to be believ'd,
And have no more cur beâ defigus,
Becauſe they're ours, believ'd ill figns.
T'outthrow, and firetch, and to enlarge,
193
200
Shall now no more be laid t' our charge;
Nor fhall our ableft virtuofis
203
Prove arguments for coffeehouſes;
Nor thofe devices, that are laid
Too truly on us, nor thofe made
Hereafter, gain belief among
Our strictest judges, right or wrong;
Nor fhall our paft misfortunes more
Be charg'd upon the ancient fcore;
No more our making old dogs young
Make men fufpect us ftill i' th' wrong;
Nor new-invented chariots draw
The boys to courſe us without law;
Nor putting pigs t' a bitch to nurſe,
To turn 'em into mongrel curs,
ATO
2x3
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
Make them fufpect our fculls are brittle,
And hold too much wit, or too little;
Nor fhall our fpeculations, whether
An elder-flick will fave the leather
Of ſchoolboys' breeches from the rod,
Make all we do appear as odd.
This one difcovery 's enough
To take all former fcandals off-
But fince the world's incredulous
Of all our fcrutinies, and us,
And with a prejudice prevents
220
225
Our best and worst experiments,
230
(As if they' were deftin'd to mifcarry,
In confort try'd, or folitary)
And fince it is uncertain when
Such wonders will occur agen,
Let us as cautiouſly contrive
235
To draw an exact Narrative
Of what we ev'ry one can ſwear
Our eyes themſelves have ſeen appear,
That, when we publish the Account,
We all may take our oaths upon't.
This faid, they all with one confent
Agreed to draw up th' Inftrument,
And, for the gen'ral fatisfaction,
To print it in the next Tranſaction,
But whilft the chiefs were drawing up
This ftrange Memoir o'th' teleſcope,
240
245
Bij
18
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
One, peeping in the tube by chance,
Beheld the Elephant advance,
And from the weft fide of the Moon
To th' eaft was in a moment gone.
This b'ing related, gave a ſtop
To what the reſt were drawing up;
And ev'ry man, amaz'd anew
How it cou'd poſſibly be true,
That any beaſt ſhould run a race
So monftrous, in fo fhort a space,
Refolv'd, howe'er to make it good,
At leaſt as poffible as he cou'd,
250
255
And rather his own eyes condemn,
Than queflion what he 'ad feen with them.
260
While all were thus refolv'd, a man
Of great renown there thus began-
'Tis flrange, I grant! but who can fay
What cannot be, what can, and may?
Efpecially' at fo hugely vaſt
A diſtance as this wonder 's plac'd,
Where the leaft errour of the fight
265
May ſhow things falfe, but never right;
Nor can we try them, ſo far off,
By any fublunary proof:
270
For who can ſay that Nature there
Has the fame laws fhe goes by here?
Nor is it like ſhe has infus'd,
In ev'ry fpecies there produc'd,
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
19
The fame efforts fhe does confer
Upon the fame productions here,
Since thoſe with us, of fev'ral nations,
Have fuch prodigious variations,
And ſhe affects fo much to uſe
Variety in all fhe does.
Hence may b' inferr'd that, tho' I grant
275
280
We've feen i' th' Moon an Elephant,
That Elephant may differ fo
From thofe upon the earth below,
Both in his bulk, and force, and speed,
285
As being of a diff'rent breed,
That tho' our own are but flow-pac'd,
Theirs there may fly, or run as faſt,
And yet be Elephants, no lefs
Than thoſe of Indian pedigrees.
This faid, another of
great worth,
Fam'd for his learned works put forth,
290
Look'd wife, then faid-All this is true,
And learnedly obſerv'd by you;
But there's another reafon for 't,
295
That falls but very little ſhort
Of mathematick demonftration,
Upon an accurate calculation,
And that is-as the earth and moon
Do both move contrary upon
300
Their axes, the rapidity
Of both their motions cannot be
50
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
But fo prodigioufly faft,
That vaſter ſpaces may be paſt
In lefs time than the beaft has gone,
35
Tho' he 'ad no motion of his own,
Which we can take no meaſure of,
As you have clear'd by learned proof.
This granted, we may boldly thence
Lay claim t'a nobler inference,
And make this great phænomenon
(Were there no other) ferve alone
To clear the grand hypothefis
Of th' motion of the earth from this.
With this they all were fatisfy'd,
As men are wont o' th' biafs'd fide,
Applauded the profound difpute,
And grew more gay and refolute,
By having overcome all doubt,
Than if it never had fall'n out;
And, to complete their Narrative,
Agreed t' inſert this ſtrange retrieve.
But while they were diverted all
With wording the Memorial,
The footboys, for diverſion too,
As having nothing elſe to do,
Seeing the teleſcope at leifure,
Turn'd virtuofis for their pleaſure ;
Began to gaze upon the Moon,
As thoſe they waited on had done,
310
313
310
325
330
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
21
With monkeys' ingenuity,
That love to practife what they fee;
When one, whoſe turn it was to peep,
Saw fomething in the engine creep,
And, viewing well, difcover'd more
335
Than all the learn'd had done before.
Quoth he, A little thing is flunk
Into the long ftargazing trunk,
And now is gotten down fo nigh,
I have him juſt againſt mine eye.
This being overheard by one
Who was not ſo far overgrown
In any virtuous fpeculation,
To judge with mere imagination,
Immediately he made a gueſs
340
345
At folving all appearances,
Away far more fignificant
Than all their hints of th' Elephant,
And found, upon a fecond view,
His own hypothefis moft true;
350
For he had fcarce apply'd his eye
To th' engine, but immediately
He found a Moufe was gotten in
The hollow tube, and, fhut between
The two glafs windows in reſtraint,
Was fwell'd into an Elephant,
And prov'd the virtuous occafion
Of all this learned differtation:
355
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
And, as a mountain heretofore
Was great with child, they ſay, and bore
A filly mouſe, this mouſe, as fìrange,
Brought forth a mountain in exchange.
Mean-while the reft in confultation
Had penn'd the wonderful Narration,
And fet their hands, and ſeals, and wit,
'T' atteſt the truth of what they 'ad writ,
When this accurs'd phænomenon
Confounded all they 'ad faid or done:
For 't was no fooner hinted at,
360
365
But they' all were in a tumult ftrait,
370
More furiously enrag'd by far,
Than thoſe that in the Moon made war,
To find fo admirable a hint,
When they had all agreed t' have feen 't,
375
And were engag'd to make it out,
Obſtructed with a paltry doubt :
When one, whofe task was to determin,
And folve th' appearances of vermin,
Who 'ad made profound diſcoveries
In frogs, and toads, and rats, and mice,
(Tho' not fo curious, 't is true,
As many a wife rat-catcher knew)
After he had with figns made way
For ſomething great he had to ſay;
This difquifition
Is, half of it, in my diſciffion;
380
385
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
22
For tho' the Elephant, as beaſt,
Belongs of right to all the reft,
The Moufe, b'ing but a vermine, none
Ha title to but I alone
And therefore hope I may be heard,
In my own province, with regard.
It is no wonder we 're cry'd down,
390
And made the talk of all the Town,
That rants and fwears, for all our great
395
Attempts, we have done nothing yet,
If ev'ry one have leave to doubt,
When fome great fecret 's half made out;
And 'canfe perhaps it is not true,
Obſtruct, and ruin all we do.
As no great a&t was ever done,
Nor ever can, with truth alone,
If nothing eife but truth w' allow,
Tis no great matter what we do -
For Truth is too referv'd, and nice,
T' appear in mix'd focieties;
Delights in folit'ry abodes,
And never fhews herſelf in crowds;
400
403
A fullen little thing, below
All matters of pretence and fhow;
410
That deel in novelty, and change,
Not of things true, but rare and ſtrange,
To treat the world with what is fit,
And proper to its nat'ralwit;
24
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
The world, that never fets efteem
On what things are, but what they ſeem,
And if they be not ſtrange and new,
They're ne'er the better for b'ing true.
For what has mankind gain'd by knowing
His little truth, but his undoing,
415
420
Which wifely was by Nature hidden,
And only for his good forbidden?
And therefore with great prudence does
The world ſtill ftrive to keep it cloſe;
For if all fecret truths were known,
425
Who wou'd not be once more undone?
For truth has always danger in 't,
And here, perhaps, may crofs fome hint
We've already agreed upon,
And vainly fruftrate all we 've done,
430
Only to make new work for ftubs,
And all the academick clubs.
How much, then, ought we have a care
That no man know above his fhare,
435
Nor dare to underftand, henceforth,
More than his contribution 's worth;
That thoſe who 've purchas'd of the college
A fhare, or half a fhare, of knowledge,
And brought in none, but ſpent repute,
Shou'd not b' admitted to difpute,
Nor any man pretend to know
More than his dividend comes to?"
440
2
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
25
'Tis fure to run the felf-fame courfe.
For partners have been always known
To cheat their publick int'reft prone;
And if we do not look to ours,
This faid, the whole affembly' allow'd
445
The doctrine to be right and good,
And, from the truth of what they 'ad heard,
Refolv'd to give Truth no regard,
430
But what was for their turn to vouch,
And either find, or make it fuch:
'That 't was more noble to create
Things like Truth, out of ftrong conceit,
Than with vexatious pains and doubt
455
To find, or think t' have found, her out.
This b'ing refolv'd, they, one by one,
Review'd the tube, the Mouſe, and Moon;
But ftill the narrower they pry'd,
The more they were unfatisfy'd,
In no one thing they faw agreeing,
As if they 'ad fev'ral faiths of ſeeing.
Some ſwore, upon a fecond view,
That all they 'ad feen before was true,
And that they never would recant
One fyllable of th' Elephant ;
Avow'd his fnout could be no Moufe's,
But a true Elephant's probofcis.
Others began to doubt and waver,
Uncertain which o' th' two to favour,
Volume III.
400
465
470
C
25
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
And knew not whether to efpoufe
The cauſe of th' Elephant or Moufe.
Some held no way ſo orthodox
To try it, as the ballot-box,
And, like the nation's patriots,
To find, or make, the truth by votes:
Others conceiv'd it much more fit
I' unmount the tube, and open it,
And, for their private fatisfaction,
To reexamine the Tranfaction,
And after explicate the reſt,
As they ſhould find caufe for the beſt.
To this, as th' only expedient,
The whole affembly gave confent;
But ere the tube was half let down,
It clear'd the firſt phænomenon:
For, at the end, prodigious fwarms
Of flies and gnats, like men in arms,
Had all paft mufter, by mifchance,
Both for the Sub- and Privolvans.
This b'ing difcover'd, put them all
Into a fresh and fiercer brawl,
Afham'd that men fo grave and wife
Shou'd be chaldes'd by gnats and flies,
And take the feeble infects' fwarms
475
480
485
490
495
For mighty troops of men at arms;
As vain as thoſe who, when the Moon
Bright in a cryſtal river ſhone,
Threw cafting nets, as fubtly at her,
To catch and pull her out o' th' water.
500
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
17
But when they had unfcrew'd the glaſs,
To find out where th' impoftor was,
And faw the Moufe, that, by mishap,
Had made the teleſcope a trap,
Amaz'd, confounded, and afflicted,
To be fo openly convicted,
Immediately they get them gone,
With this diſcovery alone,
That thoſe who greedily purſue
Things wonderful, inftead of true,
That in their ſpeculations chuſe
To make difcoveries ftrange news,
And natʼral hiſt`ry a Gazette
Oftales ſtupendous and far-fet;
Hold no truth worthy to be known,
That is not huge and overgrown,
And explicate appearances,
Not as they are, but as they pleafe,
In vain ſtrive Nature to fuborn,
And, for their pains, are paid with fcorn.
505
510
315
520
509, 510.] From this moral application of the whole,
one may obferve that the Poet's real intention, in this fatire,
was not to ridicule real and uſeful philofophy, but only that
conceited and whimſical tate for the marvellous and fur-
prifing which prevailed fo much among the learned of that
age: and though it would be ungrateful not to acknow-
ledge the many uſeful improvements then made in natural
knowledge, yet, in juftice to the fatirift, it muſt be confef!-
ed that theſe curious inquirers into Nature did fometimes,
in their reſearches, run into a fuperftitious and unphilofophi-
cal credulity, which deſerved very well to be laughed at.
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
IN LONG VERSE
A
VIRTUOUS, learn'd fociety of late
The pride and glory of a foreign ſtate,
Made an agreement, on a fummer's night,
To fearch the Moon at full by her own light;
To take a perfect invent'ry of all
Her real fortunes, or her perfonal,
And make a geometrical furvey
Of all her lands, and how her country lay,
As accurate as that of Ireland, where
The fly furveyor's faid t' have funk a ſhire:
IO
T'obferve her country's climate, how 't was planted,
And what the most abounded with, or wanted;
And draw maps of her prop'reft ſituations
For fettling and erecting new plantations,
* After the Author had finiſhed this ſtory in ſhort verſe, he
took it in his head to attempt it in long. That this was com-
pofed after the other is manifeft from its being wrote oppo-
fite to it upon a vacant part of the fame paper; and though
in moft places the Poet has done little more than filled up the
verſe with an additional foot, preferving the fame thought
and rhyme, yet as it is a fingular inftance in its way, and has
befides many confiderable additions and variations, which
tend to illuftrate and explain the preceding Poem, it may be
looked upon not only as a curiofity in its kind, but as a new
production of the Author's. This I mention only to obviate
the objections of thoſe who may think it inferted to fill up
the volume. To the admirers of Butler I am fure no apology
is neceffary.
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
20
If ever the Society fhou'd incline
T'attempt fo great and glorious a defign:
"A taſk in vain, unleſs the German Kepler
"Had found out a difcovery to people her,
"And ſtock her country with inhabitants
"Of military men and Elephants:
"For th' Ancients only took her for a piece
"Of redhot iron as big as Peloponnefe,
15
20
"Till he appear'd; for which, fome write, fhe fent
Upon his tribe as ſtrange a puniſhment."
This was the only purpoſe of their meeting, 25
For which they chofe a time and place moft fitting,
When, at the full, her equal fhares of light
And influence were at their greateſt height.
And now the lofty teleſcope, the ſcale,
By which they venture heav'n itfelf t' affail,
Was rais'd, and planted full againſt the Moon,
And all the reft ſtood ready to fall on,
Impatient who ſhould bear away the honour
To plant an enfign, first of all, upon her.
When one, who for his folid deep belief
Was chofen virtuofo then in chief,
Had been approv'd the moſt profound and wife
At folving all impoffibilities,
30
35
✈. 17.] This and the following verfes, to the end of the
paragraph, are not in the foregoing compofition; and are di-
ftinguithed, as well as the reft of the fame kind, by being
printed in inverted commas.
CH
10
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
•
With gravity advancing, to apply
To th' optick glaſs his penetrating eye,
Cry'd out, O ftrange! then reinforc'd his fight
Againſt the Moon with all his art and might,
And bent the mufcles of his penſive brow,
As if he meant to ſtare and gaze her thro',
While all the reft began as much t' admire,
And like a powder-train, from him took fire,
Surpris'd with dull amazement beforehand,
At what they wou'd, but cou'd not underſtand,
And grew impatient to diſcover what
The matter was they ſo much wonder'd at.
40
45
૩૦
Quoth be, Th' old inhabitants o' th' Moon,
Who, when the fun fhines hotteſt about noon,
Are wont to live in cellars under ground,
Of eight miles deep, and more than eighty round,
In which at once they ufe to fortify
Againſt the funbeams and the enemy,
Are counted borough-towns and cities there,
Becauſe th' inhabitants are civiller
55
Than thofe rude country peaſants that are found,
Like mountaineers, to live on th' upper ground, 60
Nam'd Privolvans, with whom the others are,
Perpetually in ſtate of open war.
And now both armies, mortally enrag'd,
Are in a fierce and bloody fight engag'd,
And many fall on both fides kill'd and flain,
As by the telescope 't is clear and plain.
65
THE ELETRANT IN THE MOSW.
31
Look in it quickly then, that ev'ry one
May fee his fhare before the battle's done.
At this a famous great philofopher,
Admir'd, and celebrated, far and near
As one of wondrous fingular invention,
And equal univerſal comprehenſion,
70
By which he had compos'd a pedlar's jargon,
"For all the world to learn, and uſe in bargain,
"An univerfal canting idiom,
75
“To underſtand the ſwinging pendulum,
"And to communicate, in all defigns,
With th' Eaftern virtuofi Mandarines,"
Apply'd an optick nerve, and half a noſe,
To th' end and centre of the engine cloſe:
For he had very lately undertook
80
To vindicate, and publish in a book,
That men, whofe native eyes are blind, or out,
May by more admirable art be brought
To fee with empty holes, as well and plain
As if their eyes had been put in again.
This great man, therefore, having fix'd his fight,
T' obferve the bloody formidable fight,
Confider'd carefully, and then cry'd out,
Tis true, the battle's defperately fought;
The gallant Subvolvans begin to rally,
And from their trenches valiantly fally,
To fall upon the ſtubborn enemy,
Who fearfully begin to rout and fly.
85
90
32
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON,
:
Thefe paltry domineering Privolvans
Have, ev'ry ſummer-ſeaſon, their campains,
And muſter, like the military fons
Of Rawhead and victorious Bloody bones,
As great and numerous as foland geeſe
I' th' fummer-iflands of the Orcades,
Courageouſly to make a dreadful ſtand,
And boldly face their neighbours hand to hand,
Until the peaceful, long-for winter's come,
And then diſband, and march in triumph home,
And ſpend the reſt of all the year in lies,
And vap'ring of their unknown victories.
From th' old Arcadians they have been believ'd
To be, before the Moon herſelf, deriv'd;
And, when her orb was firſt of all created,
95
100
105
To be from thence, to people her, tranflated:
110
For as thofe people had been long reputed,
Of all the Peloponnefians the moſt ſtupid,
Whom nothing in the world cou'd ever bring
T'endure the civil life but fiddling,
They ever fince retain the antique courſe,
And native frenzy of their anceſtors,
And always uſe to fing and fiddle to
Things of the most important weight they do.
While thus the virtuofo entertains
The whole affembly with the Privolvans,
"Another fophift, but of lefs renown,
"Tho' longer obſervation of the Moon,"
. 121, 122.] In the shorter verfe it ftands thus:
Another of as great renown,
And folid judgment in the Mosa,
115
120
THE LLEPHANT IN THE MOON,
33
That understood the diff'rence of her foils,
And which produc'd the fairest genet-moyles,
But for an unpaid weekly fhilling's penfion
125
Had fin'd for wit, and judgment, and invention,"
Whỏ, after poring tedious and hard
In th' optick engine, gave a ſtart and flar'd,
And thus began. A ſtranger fight appears
Than ever yet was feen in all the ſpheres;
greater wonder, more unparallell'A
Than ever mortal tube or eye beheld;
mighty Elephant from one of thoſe
wo fighting armies is at length broke looſe,
And with the deſp'rate horrour of the fight
Appears amaz'd, and in a dreadful fright:
Look quickly, left the only fight of us
Shou'd caufe the ſtartled creature to emboſs.
is a large one, and appears more great
Than ever was produc'd in Afric yet;
130
135
140
nd though the variation in words is but ſmall, it makes a
onfiderable difference in the character.
. 125, 126] Thefe two verfes are inferted inftead of the
llowing in the other copy in thort meaſure:
And in the regiſter of Fame,
Had enter'd his long-living name.
he Poet had added the two following lines in this chara&ter,
at afterwards croffed them out.
And firſt found ocf the building Paul's
And paving London with feacoals.
tranfcribe them to gratify the curiofity of fuch as are de-
rous to inveftigate who the particular perfons are that are
eſigned by theſe characters.
34
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON,
From which we confidently may infer,
The Moon appears to be the fruitfuller.
And fince, of old, the mighty Pyrrhus brought
Thofe living caftles firſt of all, 't is thought,
Againſt the Roman army in the field,
It may a valid argument be held,
(The fame Arcadia being but a piece,
145
As his dominions were, of antique Greece)
To vindicate what this illuftrious perfon
Has made fo learn'd and noble a difcourfe on,
150
And giv'n us ample fatisfaction all
Of th' ancient Privolvans' original.
That Elephants are really in the Moon,
Altho' our fortune had diſcover'd none,
Is eafily made plain, and manifeft,
155
Since from the greateſt orbs, down to the leaft,
All other globes of ſtars and conftellations
Have cattle in 'em of all forts and nations,
And heav'n, like a northern Tartar's hoard,
With numerous and mighty dreves is flor'd: 160
And if the Moon can but produce by Nature
A people of fo large and vaſt a ſtature,
'Tis more than probable ſhe ſhou'd bring forth
A greater breed of beaſts, too, than the earth;
As by the beſt accounts we have, appears
Of all our credibleſt diſcoverers,
And that thofe vaſt and monstrous creatures there
Are not fuch far-fet rarities as here.
165
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
35
Mean-while th' affembly now had had a fight
Of all diftinct particulars o' th' fight,
170
And ev'ry man, with diligence and care,
Perus'd and view'd of th' Elephant his ſhare,
Proud of his equal int'reft in the glory
Of fo ftupendous and renown'd a ſtory,
When one, who for his fame and excellence
In height'ning of words and fhadowing fenfe,
And magnifying all he ever writ
With delicate and mifcroſcopick wit,
Had long been magnify'd himſelf no leſs
In foreign and domeftick colleges,
Began at laft (tranſported with the twang
Of his own elocution) thus t' harangue.
Moft virtuous and incomparable Friends,
This great difcov'ry fully makes amends
For all our former unſucceſsful pains,
And loft expenfes of our time and brains;
For by this admirable phænomenon,
We now have gotten ground upon the Moon,
And gain'd a paſs t' engage and hold diſpute
With all the other planets that ftand out,
And carry on this brave and virtuous war
Home to the door of th' obftinateſt ſtar,
And plant th' artill'ry of our optick tubes
Against the proudest of their magnitudes;
To ftretch our future victories beyond
The uttermoſt of planetary ground,
175
180
185
190
195
36
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
And plant our warlike engines, and our enfigns,
Upon the fix'd ſtars' fpacious dimenfions,
To prove if they are other fuus or not,
As fome philofophers have wifely thought,
Or only windows in the empyreum,
200
205
Thro' which thofe bright cffluvias ufe to come
Which Archimede, ſo many years ago,
Durft never venture but to wish to know.
Nor is this all that we have now achiev'd,
But greater things!-henceforth to be believ'd;
And have no more our beſt or worſt deſigns,
Becauſe they're ours, fufpe&ed for ill fign..
T'outthrow, and magnify, and to enlarge,
Shall, henceforth, be no more laid to our charge; 210
Nor fhall cur beft and ableft virtuofis
Prove arguments again for coffeehouſes;
"Nor little ftorics gain belief among
"Our criticalleft judges, right or wrong:
:"
Nor fhall our new-invented chariots draw
The boys to courfe us in 'em without law;
213
. 203, 204 ] Theſe two lines are here inſerted in a diffe-
rent and better place than they were in the thorter verfe,
where they made a fort of parentheſis, and the two following
lines are alfo omitted:
Like flames of fire, as others guefs,
That ſhine i' thꞌ niouths of furnaces.
213.] In this latter part of the ſpeech, Butler makes a
confiderable variation, by adding, omitting, and altering,
which it would be both tedious and unneceffary minutely to
point out, as the reader may ſo eaſily compare the two Poems,
TRE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
37
"Make chips of elms produce the largeſt trees,
"Or fowing fawduft furniſh nurferies:
No more cur heading darts (a fwinging one!)
With butter only harden'd in the fun;
"Or men that uſe to whiſtle loud enough
"To be heard by others plainly five miles off,
"Caufe all the reft, we own and have avow'd,
"To be believ'd as defperately loud.”
Nor ſhall our future fpeculations, whether
An elder-fick will render all the leather
Offchoolboys' breeches proof againſt the rod,
Make all we undertake appear as odd.
This one difcovery will prove enough
To take all paft and future fcandals off:
But fince the world is fo incredulous
Of all our ufual fcrutinies, and us,
And with a conſtant prejudice prevents
Our beſt as well as worst experiments,
As if they were all dettin'd to mifcarry,
As well in concert try'd as folitary;
And that th' aſſembly is uncertain when
Such great difcov'ries will occur agen,
220
225
230
235
'Tis reas'nable we fhou'd, at leaſt, contrive
To draw up as exact a Narrative
240
Of that which ev'ry man of us can fwear
Our eyes themfelves have plainly feen appear,
That when 'tis fit to publish the Account,
We all may take our fev'ral oaths upon 't.
F’olume 111.
D
38
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
This faid, the whole affembly gave confent
To drawing up th' authentick Inſtrument,
And for the nation's gen'ral fatisfaction,
To print and own it in their next Tranfaction:
But while their ableſt men were drawing up
The wonderful Memoir o' th' teleſcope,
A member peeping in the tube by chance,
Beheld the Elephant begin t' advance,
243
250
That from the weſt-by-north ſide of the Moon
To th' eaft-by-fouth was in a moment gone.
255
This b'ing related, gave a ſudden ſtop
To all their grandees had been drawing up,
And ev'ry perſon was amaz'd anew,
How fuch a ſtrange ſurprifal fhould be true,
Or any beaft perform fo great a race,
260
So fwift and rapid, in fo fhort a ſpace,
Refolv'd, as fuddenly, to make it good,
Or render all as fairly as they cou'd,
And rather chofe their own eyes to condemn,
Than queſtion what they had beheld with them. 265
While ev'ry one was thus refolv'd, a man
Of great eſteem and credit thus began.
"Tis ftrange, I grant! but who, alas! can fay
What cannot be, or juſtly can, and may?
Efpecially at fo hugely wide and vaſt
A diſtance as this miracle is plac'd,
Where the leaſt errour of the glaſs, or fight,
May render things amifs, but never right?
270
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
39
Nor can we try them, when they're ſo far off,
By any equal fublunary proof:
275
For who can juftify that Nature there
Is ty'd to the fame laws fhe acts by here?
Nor is it probable fhe has infus'd
Int' ev'ry fpecies in the Moon produc'd,
The fame efforts fhe ufes to confer
280
Upon the very fame productions here,
Since thoſe upon the earth, of fev'ral nations,
Are found t' have fuch prodigious variations,
And the affects fo conftantly to uſe
Variety in ev'ry thing fhe does.
285
From hence may be inferr'd that, tho' I grant
We have beheld i' th' Moon an Elephant,
That Elephant may chance to differ fo
From thoſe with us upon the earth below,
Both in his bulk, as well as force and ſpeed,
As being of a diff'rent kind and breed,
That tho' 'tis true our own are but flow-pac'd,
Theirs there, perhaps, may fly or run as faſt,
And yet be very Elephants, no lefs
Than thofe deriv'd from Indian families.
This ſaid, another member of great worth,
Fam'd for the learned works he had put forth,
"In which the mannerly and modeft author
290
295
"
Quotes the Right Worſhipful his elder brother,'
Look'd wife awhile, then faid-All this is true, 300
And very learnedly obſerv'd by you;
Dij
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
But there's another nobler reafon for 't,
That, rightly' obferv'd, will fall but little ſhort
Of folid mathematick demonſtration,
Upon a full and perfed calculation ;
305
And that is only this As th' earth and moon
Do conftantly move contrary upon
Their fev'ral axes, the rapidity
Of both their motions cannot fail to be
So violent, and naturally fast,
310
That larger diftances may well be paſ
In lefs time than the Elephant has gone,
Altho' he had no motion of his own,
Which we on earth can take no measure of,
As you have made it evident by proof.
315
This granted, we may confidently hence
Claim title to another inference,
And make this wonderful phænomenon
(Were there no other) ferve our turn alone
To vindicate the grand hypothefis,
320
And prove the motion of the earth from this.
This faid, th' affembly now was fatisfy'd,
As men are foon upon the biafs'd fide;
With great applauſe receiv'd th' admir'd difpute,
And grew more gay, and brisk, and refolute,
By having right or wrong) remov'd all doubt,
Than if th' occafion never had fall'n out,
Refolving to complete their Narrative,
And punctually infert this ftrange retrieve.
325
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
41
But while their grandees were diverted all
With nicely wording the Memorial,
The footboys, for their own diverſion, too,
As having nothing, now, at all to do,
And when they faw the teleſcope at leiſure,
Turn'd virtuofis, only for their pleaſure,
"With drills' and monkeys' ingenuity,
"That take delight to practife all they fee,"
Began to ftare and gaze upon the Moon,
As thoſe they waited on before had done:
330
335
345
When one, whofe turn it was by chance to peep, 340
Saw fomething in the lofty engine creep,
And, viewing carefully, difcover'd more
Thau all their maſters hit upon before.
Quoth he, O ftrange! a little thing is flunk
On th' infide of the long ſtargazing trunk,
And now is gotten down fo low and nigh,
I have him here directly 'gainſt mine eye.
This chancing to be overheard by one
Who was not yet fo hugely overgrown
In any philofophick obfervation,
As to conclude with mere imagination,
And
yet he made immediately a gueſs
At fully falving all appearances,
A plainer way, and more fignificant
350
Than all their hints had prov'do' th' Elephant, 355
And quickly found, upon a fecond view,
His own conjecture, probably, moſt true;
Diij
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON,
For he no fooner had apply'd his eye
To th' optick engine, but immediately
He found a finall fieldmoufe was gotten in
The hollow teleſcope, and, fhut between
The twoglafs-windows, clofely in reſtraint,
Was magnify'd into an Elephant,
And prov'd the happy virtuous occaſion
Of all this deep and learned differtation.
And as a mighty mountain heretofore,
is faid t' have been begot with child, and bore
A filly mouſe this captive moufe, as ſtrange,
Produc'd another mountain in exchange.
360
365
Mean-while the grandees, long in confultation, 370
Had finiſh'd the miraculous Narration,
And fet their hands, and feals, and fenfe, and wit,
T'atteſt and vouch the truth of all they 'ad writ,
When this unfortunate phænomenon
Confounded all they had declar'd and done:
For 'twas no fooner told and hinted at,
But all the reft were in a tumult ftrait,
More hot and furiously enrag'd by far,
Than both the hofts that in the Moon made war,
To find fo rare and admirable a hint,
375
380
When they had all agreed and fworn t'have ſeen't,
And had engag'd themfelves to make it out,
Obitrated with a watched paltry doubt.
When one, whofe only talk was to determin
And ſolve the worſt appearances of vermin,
385
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
43
Who oft' had made profound diſcoveries
In frogs and toads, as well as rats and mice,
(Tho' not fo curious and exact, 'tis true,
As many an exquifite rat-catcher knew)
After he had awhile with figns made way
390
For fomething pertinent he had to ſay,
At laît prevail'd-Qooth he, This difqufition
Is, the one half of it, in my difciffion;
For tho' 't is true the Elephant, as beaſt,
Belongs, of nat'ral right, to all the reit,
395
The Moufe, that's but a paltry vermine, none
Can claim a title to but I alone;
And therefore humbly hope I may be heard,
X my own province, freely, with regard.
It is no wonder that we are cry'd down,
400
And made the tabletalk of all the Town,
That rants and vapours ftill, for all our great
Defigns and projects, we've done nothing yet,
If ev'ry one have liberty to doubt,
When fome great fecret's more than half made out,
Becaufe, perhaps, it will not hold out true,
And put a ſtop to all w'attempt to do.
As no great action ever has been done,
Nor ever's like to be, by Truth alone,
If nothing elfe but only truth w' allow,
'Tis no great matter what w' intend to do;
“For Truth is always too referv'd and chaſte,
ST' endure to be by all the Town embrac'd;
406
410
44
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
A folitary anchorite, that dwells
"Retir'd from all the world, in obfcure cells," 415
Difdains all great affemblies, and defies
The prefs and crowd of mix'd focieties,
That ufe to deal in novelty and change,
Not of things true, but great, and rare,
To entertain the world with what is fit
And proper for its genius and its wit;
and ſtrange,
420
The world that's never found to fet eftrem
On what things are, but what they' appear and feem;
And if they are not wonderful and new,
425
They're ne'er the better for their being true.
"For what is truth, or knowledge, but a kind
"Of wantonnefs and luxury o' th' mind,
"A greedineſs and gluttony o' the brain,
"That longs to eat forbidden fruit again,
429
"And grows more defp'rate like the worst difeafes
#
Upon the nobler part (the mind) it feizes?"
And what has mankind ever gain'd by knowing
His little truths, unleſs his own undoing,
That prudently by Nature had been hidden,
And, only for his greater good, forbidden?
And therefore with as great difcretion does
The world endeavours ftill to keep it clofe;
For if the fecrets of all truths were known,
Who wou'd not, once more, be as much undone?
For truth is never without danger in 't,
As here it has depriv'd us of a hint
435
442
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
45
The whole affembly had agreed upon,
And utterly defeated all we 'ad done,
"By giving footboys leave to interpofe,
“And diſappoint whatever we propofe;'
445
For nothing but to cut out work for ſlubs,
And all the bufy academick clubs,
"For which they have deferv'd to run the risks
"Of elder-ſticks, and penitential friſks."
455
How much, then, ought we have a ſpecial care 450
That none prefume to know above his ſhare,
Nor take upon him t' underſtand, henceforth,
More than his weekly contribution's worth,
That all thofe that have purchas'd of the college
A half, or but a quarter fhare, of knowledge,
And brought none in themſelves, but ſpent repute,
Shou'd never be admitted to difpute,
Ner any meraber undertake to know
More than his equal dividend comes to?
For partners have perpetually been known
T'impofe upon their publick int'reſt prone;
And if we have not greater care of ours,
It will be fure to run the felf-fame courſe.
This faid, the whole Society allow'd
400
The doctrine to be orthodox and good,
465
And from th' apparent truth of what they had heard,
Refolv'd, henceforth, to give Truth no regard,
But what was for their intereûs to vouch,
And either find it out, or make it fuch :
I
46
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON,
That 't was more admirable to create
Inventions, like truth, out of ftrong conceit,
Than with vexatious ftudy, pains, and doubt,
To find, or but fuppofe t' have found, it out.
470
This b'ing refolv'd, th' affembly, one by one,
Review'd the tube, the Elephant, and Moon; 475
But ftill the more and curioufer they pry'd,
They but became the more unfatisfy'd,
In no one thing they gaz'd upon agreeing,
As if they 'ad diff'rent principles of feeing.
Some boldly ſwore, upon a ſecond view,
That all they had beheld before was true,
And damn'd themfelves they never would recant
480
One fyllable they had ſeen of th' Elephant;
Avow'd his ſhape and fnout could be no Moufe's,
But a true natʼral Elephant's probofcis.
485
Others began to doubt as much, and waver,
Uncertain which to difallow or favour;
"Until they had as many croſs reſolves,
"As Irishmen that have been turn'd to wolves,"
And grew diftracted, whether to eſpouſe
490
The party of the Elephant or Mouſe.
Some held there was no way fo orthodox,
As to refer it to the ballot-box,
And, like ſome other nation's patriots,
To find it out, or make the truth, by votes:
495
Others were of opinion 't was more fit
Tunmount the teleſcope, and open it,
+
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
47
And, for their own and all men's fatisfaction,
To ſearch and reexamine the tranfaction,
And afterward to explicate the reſt,
500
As they fhou'd fee occafion for the beſt.
To this, at length, as th' only expedient,
The whole affembly freely gave confent;
But ere the optick tube was half let down,
Their own eyes clear'd the first phenomenon: 505
For at the upper end, prodigious fwarms
Of bufy flies and gnats, like men in arms,
Had all paft mufter in the glafs by chance,
For both the Pri- and the Subvolvans.
This b'ing difcover'd, once more put them all 510
Into a worfe and defperater brawl.
515
Surpris'd with fhame, that men fo grave and wife
Shou'd be trepann'd by paltry gnats and flies,
And to miſtake the feeble infects' fwarms
For fquadrons and referves of nien in arms:
As politick as thofe who, when the Moon
As bright and glorious in a river fhone,
Threw cafting-nets with equal cunning at her,
To catch her with, and pull her out o' th' water.
But when, at last, they had unfcrew'd the glaſs, 520 .
To find out where the fly impoftor was,
And ſaw 't was but a Mouſe, that by miſhap
Had catch'd himſelf, and them, in th' optick trap,
. 521, 522.] Butler, to compliment his Moufe for afford-
ing him an opportunity of indulging his fatirical turn, and
48
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
Amaz'd, with ſhame confounded, and afflictedá
To find themfelves fo openly convicted,
Immediately made hafte to get them gone,
With none but this difcovery alone.
That learned men, who greedily purfue
Things that are rather wonderful than true,
And in their niceft fpeculations, chufe
To make their own difcoveries ſtrange news,
And natʼral hift'ry rather a Gazette
Of rarities ftupendous and far-fet;
Believe no truths are worthy to be known,
That are not ſtrongly vaft and overgrown,
And frive to explicate appearances,
Not as they're probable, but as they pleafe,
In vain endeavour Nature to fuborn,
523
330
535
And, for their pains, are juſtly paid with fcorn.
diſplaying his wit upon this occafion, has, to the end of this
Poem, fubjoined the following epigrammatical note.
A Mouſe, whoſe martial valour has fo long
Ago been try’2, and by old Homer fung,
And purchas'd him more everlaſting glory
Than all his Grecian and his Trojan ftory,
Tho' he appears unequal matcht, I grant,
In bulk and ftature by the Elephant,
Yet frequently has been obferv'd in battle
To have reduc'd the proud and haughty cattle,
When having boldly enter'd the redoubt,
And form'd the dreadful outwork of his facut,
The little vermine, like an errant-knight,
Mas flain the huge gigantick bealt in fight.
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
A FRAGMENT *.
A LEARNED man, whom once a week
A hundred virtuofis feek,
And like an oracle apply to,
T'aſk queſtions, and admire, and lie to,
Who entertain'd them all of courſe,
(As men take wives for better or worse)
And paſt them all for men of parts,
Tho' fome but fcepticks in their hearts;
For when they're caft into a lump,
Their talents equally must jump;
As metals mixt, the rich and baſe
Do both at equal values pafs.
With theſe the ord'nary debate
Was after news, and things of flate,
Which way the dreadful comet went,
In fixty-four, and what it meant?
What nations yet are to bewail
The operation of its tail?
5
10
Butler formed a defign of writing another fatire upon the
Royal Society, part of which I find amongit his papers fairly
and correctly tranfcribed. Whether he ever finished it, or the
remainder of it be loft, is uncertain: the Fragment, however,
that is preſerved, may not improperly be added in this place,
as in fome fort explanatory of the preceding Poem: and I am
perfuaded that thofe who have a tafte for Butler's turn and
humour will think this too curious a Fragment to be loft,
though perhaps too imperfect to be formally publiſhed.
E
Volume III.
50
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON.
Or whether France or Holland yet,
Or Germany, be in its debt?
What wars and piagues in Chriſtendom
Have happen'd fince, and what to come?
What kings are dead, how many queens
20
And princeffes are poifon'd fince?
And who fhall next of all by turn
25
Make courts wear black, and tradeſmen mourn?
What parties next of foot, or horſe,
Will rout, or routed be, of courſe?
What German marches, and retreats,
Will furnish the next month's Gazettes?
30
What peftilent contagion next,
And what part of the world infects?
What dreadful meteor, and where,
Shall in the heav'ns next appear?
And when again fhall lay embargo
35
Upon the Admiral, the good ſhip Argo?
Why currents turn in feas of ice
Some thrice a-day, and fome but twice?
And why the tides at night and noon,
Court, like Caligula, the Moon?
What is the nat'ral caufe why fiſh,
That always drink, do never piſs?
Or whether in their home, the deep,
By night or day they ever fleep?
If grafs be green, or fnow be white,
But only as they take the light?
Whether poffeffions of the devil,
Or mere temptations, do moſt evil?
40
45
ļ
A FRAGMENT.
What is't that makes all fountains ſtill
Within the earth to run up hill,
But on the outſide down again,
55
As if th' attempt had been in vain?
Or what's the ſtrange magnetick cauſe
The fteel or loadftone's drawn or draws?
The ftar the needle, which the ſtone
5.5
Has only been but touch'd upon?
Whether the Northftar's influence
With both does hold intelligence?
(For redhot iron, held t'wards the pole,
Turns of itſelf to 't when 't is cool :)
60
Or whether male and female fcrews
In th iron and ftone th' eff & produce?
What makes the body of the fun,
That fuch a rapid courfe does run,
To draw no tail behind thro' th' air,
As comets do when they appear,
Which other planets cannot do,
Becauſe they do not burn, but glow ?
Whether the Moon be fea or land,
Or charcoal, or a quench'd firebrand;
Or if the dark holes that appear
Are only pores, not cities there?
Whether the atmoſphere turn round,
And keep a juft pace with the ground,
Or loiter lazily behind,
And clog the air with gufts of wind?
65
70
*
Ei
$2
THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON, ETC,
Or whether crefcents in the wane,
(For fo an author has it plain)
Do burn quite out, or wear away
Their fnuffs upon the edge of day?
Whether the fea increaſe, or wafte,
And, if it do, how long 't will laſt?
Or if the fun approaches near
The earth, how foon it will be there?
Thefe were their learned fpeculations,
And all their conftant occupations,
To meaſure wind and weigh the air,
And turn a circle to a fquare;
80
83
To make a powder of the fun,
By which all doctors fhou'd b' undone ;
To find the northweft paffage out,
Altho' the fartheft way about;
If chymifls from a rofe's afhes
Can raiſe the roſe itſelf in glaſſes?
Whether the line of incidence
Rife from the object or the fenfe?
To ftew th' elixir in a bath
Of hope. credulity, and faith;
To explicate, by fubtle hints,
The grain of diamonds and flints,
And in the braying of an afs
Find out the treble and the baſe;
if mares neigh alto, and a cow
A double diapafon low.
30
93
100
IC4
REPARTEES
BETWEEN
CAT AND PUSS
AT A CATERWAULING,
In the modern heroick way,
Ir was about the middle age of night,
When half the earth ſtood in the other's light,
And Sleep, Death's brother, yet a friend to life,
Gave weary'd Nature a reſtorative,
When Pufs, wrapt warm in his own native furs, 5
Dreamt foundly of as foft and warm amours,
Of making gallantry in gutter-tiles,
And ſporting on delightful faggot-piles;
Of bolting out of buſhes in the dark,
As ladies ufe at midnight in the Park;
10
Or feeking in tall garrets an alcove,
For affignations in th' affairs of love.
At once his paffion was both falfe and true,
And the more falfe, the more in earneſt grew.
He fancy'd that he heard thoſe am'rous charms
That us'd to fummon him to foft alarms,
15
Repartees.] This poem is a fatirical banter upon thoſe he-
roick plays which were fo much in vogue at the time our Au-
thor lived; the dialogues of which, having what they called
Heroick Love for their ſubject, are carried on exactly in this
ftrain, as any one may perceive that will confult the drama-
tick pieces of Dryden, Settle, and others.
E iij
54
CAT AND FUSS
To which he always brought an equal flame,
To fight a rival or to court a dame;
And as in dreams love's raptures are more taking
Than all their actual engagements waking,
His am'rous paffion grew to that extream,
His dream itſelf awak'd him from his dream.
Thought he, What place is this! or whither art
Thou vaniſh'd from me, Miſtreſs of my heart?
But now I had her in this very place,
Here, faft impriſon'd in my glad embrace,
And, while my joys beyond themfelves were rapt,
I know not how, nor whither, thou 'rt eſcap'd,
Stay, and I'll follow thee-With that he leapt
Up from the lazy couch on which he flept,
20
25
30
And, wing'd with paffion, thro' his known purlieu,
Swift as an arrow from a bow he flew,
Nor ftopp'd, until his fire had him convey'd
Where many an affignation he 'ad enjoy'd;
Where finding, what he fought, a mutual flame, 35
That long had ſtay'd and call'd before he came,
Impatient of delay, without one word,
To lofe no further time he fell aboard,
But gripp'd fo hard, he wounded what he lov'd,
While fhe, in anger, thus his heat reprov'd.
C. Forbear, foul ravifher, this rude addrefs;
Canft thou, at once, both injure and carefs?
40
P. Thou haft bewitch'd me with thy pow'rful charms,
And I, by drawing blood, would cure my harms.
GAT AND PUS9.
3. He that does love would fet his heart atilt,
Ere one drop of his lady's fhould be ſpilt.
45
P. Your wounds are but without, and mine withing
You wound my heart, and I but prick your fkin;
And while your eyes pierce deeper than my claws,
You blame th' effect, of which you are the caufe. 50
C. How could my guiltless eyes your heart invade,
Had it not firſt been by your own betray'd?
Hence 'tis my greateſt crime has only been
(Not in mine eyes, but your's) in being feen.
P. I hurt to love, but do not love to hurt.
C. That's worſe than making cruelty a ſport.
P. Pain is the foil of pleafure and delight,
That fets it off to a more noble height.
C. He buys his pleaſure at a rate too vain,
That takes it up beforehand of his pain.
P. Pain is more dear than pleaſure when 't is paſt.
55
60
C. But grows intolerable if it laſt.
P. Love is too full of honour to regard
What it enjoys, but fuffers as reward.
What knight durft ever own a lover's name,
That had not been half-murder'd by his flame?
Or lady, that had never lain at fake,
63
To death, or force of rivals for his fake?
C. When love does meet with injury and pain,
Difdain's the only med'cine for difdain.
P. At once I'm happy, and unhappy too,
In being pleas'd, and in diſpleaſing you,
70
ม
36
CAT AND PUSS.
C. Prepofl'rous way of pleaſure and of love,
That contrary to its own end would move!
'Tis rather hate, that covets to deſtroy;
Love's bus'nefs is to love, and to enjoy.
P. Enjoying and deſtroying are all one,
As flames deſtroy that which they feed upon.
C. He never lov'd at any gen'rous rate,
That in th' enjoyment found his flame abate.
As wine (the friend of love) is wont to make
The thirst more violent it pretends to flake,
So fhould fruition do the lovers' fire,
Inftead of leffening, inflame defire.
#5
80
P. What greater proof that paffion doestranſport, 85
When what I would die for I'm forc'd to hurt?
C. Death among lovers is a thing defpis'd,
And far below a fullen humour priz'd,
That is more fcorn'd and rail'd at than the gods,
When they are croſs'd in love, or fall at odds:
But fince you underſtand not what you do,
I am the judge of what I feel, not you.
P. Paffion begins indifferent to provė,
When love confiders any thing but love.
90
C. The darts of love, like lightning, wound within,95
And, tho' they pierce it, never hurt the fkin;
They leave no marks behind them where they fly,
Tho' thro' the tend'reft part of all, the eye;
But your ſharp claws have left enough to fhew
How tender I have been, how cruel you.
100
CAT AND PUSS.
57
P. Pleaſure is pain, for when it is enjoy'd,
All it could wish for was but to b' allay'd.
C. Force is a rugged way of making love.
P. What you like beft you always difapprove.
C. He that will wrong his love will not be nice, 103
T'excufe the wrong he does to wrong her twice.
P. Nothing is wrong but that which is ill meant.
C. Wounds are ill cured with a good intent.
P. When you miſtake that for an injury
I never meant, you do the wrong, not I.
C. You do not feel yourſelf the pain you give;
But 't is not that alone for which I grieve,
But 't is your want of paffion that I blame,
That can be cruel where you own a flame.
P. 'Tis you are guilty of that cruelty
Which you at once outdo, and blame in me;
For while you ftifle and inflame defire,
110
115
You burn, and ftarve me in the felf-fame fire.
C. It is not I, but you, that do the hurt,
Who wound yourſelf, and then accufe me for 't; 120
As thieves, that rob themſelves 'twixt fun and fun,
Make others pay for what themfelves have done,
TO THE HONOURABLÉ
EDWARD HOWARD, ESQ.
Upon his incomparable Poem of the
BRITISH PRINCES*.
SIR,
You have oblig'd the Britiſh nation more
Than all their bards could ever do before,
And, at your own charge, monuments more hard
Than brafs or marble to their fame have rear'd:
For as all warlike nations take delight
To hear how brave their anceſtors could fight,
You have advanc'd to wonder their renown,
And no lefs virtuouſly improv'd your own:
For 't will be doubted whether you do write,
Or they have acted at a nobler height.
You of their ancient princes have retriev'd
More than the ages knew in which they liv'd;
Defcrib'd their cuſtoms and their rites anew,
Better than all their Druids ever knew;
Unriddled their dark oracles as well
As thoſe themſelves that made them could foretel;
For as the Britons long have hop'd, in vain,
Arthur could come to govern them again,
10
15
Moft of the celebrated wits in Carles II.'s reign addreffed
this gentleman, in a bantering way, upon his poem called
The British Princes, and, among the reft, Butler.
ON THE BRITISH PRINCES.
50
You have fulfill'd that prophecy alone,
And in this poem plac'd him on his throne.
Such magick pow'r has your prodigious pen,
To raiſe the dead, and give new life to men;
Make rival princes meet in arms, and love,
Whom diſtant ages did fo far remove:
For as eternity has neither paft
Nor future, (authors fay) nor firſt nor laſt,
But is all inftant, your eternal Muſe
All ages can to any one reduce.
Then why fhould you, whofe miracle of art
Can life at pleaſure to the dead impart,
Trouble in vain your better-bufy'd head
T" obferve what time they liv'd in or were dead?
For fince you have fuch arbitrary power,
It were defect in judgment to go lower,
Or ftoop to things fo pitifully lewd,
As uſe to take the vulgar latitude.
There's no man fit to read what you have writ,
That holds not fome proportion with your wit;
As light can no way but by light appear,
He must bring fenfe that underftands it here,
20
23
30
3.5
40
A PALINODE
TO THE HONOURABLE
EDWARD HOWARD, ESQ.
Upon his incomparable Poem of the
BRITISH PRINCES.
Ir is your pardon, Sir, for which my Mufe
Thrice humbly thus, in form of paper, fues;
For having felt the dead weight of your wit,
She comes to ask forgiveness, and ſubmit;
Is forry for her faults, and, while I write,
Mourns in the black, does penance in the white:
But fuch is her belief in your juſt candour,
She hopes you will not fo mifunderſtand her,
To wreſt her harmleſs meaning to the ſenſe
Of filly emulation or offence.
No; your fufficient wit does ftill declare
Itfelf too amply, they are mad that dare
So vain and fenfelefs a prefumption own,
To yoke your vaſt parts in compariſon:
And yet you might have thought upon a way
T'inftrucl us how you'd have us to obey,
And not command our praifes, and then blame
All that's too great or little for your fame :
For who could chufe but err, without fome trick
To take your elevation to a nick?
IO
IS
20
4
ON THE BRITISH PRINCES
61
As he that was defir'd, upon occafion,
down
To make the Mayor of London an oration,
Defir'd his Lordship's favour, that he might
Take meaſure of his mouth to fit it right;
So, had you fent a fcantling of your wit,
You might have blam'd us if it did not fit;
But 't is not juft t' impofe, and then cry
All that's unequal to your huge renowa;
For he that writes below your vaft deſert,
Betrays his own, and not your want of art.
Praife, like a robe of ſtate, ſhould not ût clofe
To th' perfon 't is made for, but wide and loafe;
Derives its comelineſs from b'ing unfit,
And fuch have been our praiſes of your wit,
Which is fo extraordinary, no height
Of fancy but your own can do it right;
Witnefs thofe glorious poems you have writ
With equal judgment, learning, art, and wit,
And thoſe ſtupendous difcoveries
You've lately made of wonders in the ſkies:
For who, but from yourſelf, did ever hear
The ſphere of atoms was the atmoſphere?
Whoever ſhut thoſe fragglers in a room,
Or put a circle about vacuum?
25
30
35
40
What ſhould confine thoſe undetermin'd crowds, 43
And yet extend no further than the clouds!
Whoever could have thought, but you alone,
A ſign and an afcendant were all one?
Volume 111.
ON THE BRITISH PRINCES.
Or how 'tis poffible the moon fhould ſhroud
Har face, to peep at Mars behind a cloud,
Since clouds below are ſo far diftant plac'd,
They cannot hinder her from b'ing barefac'd?
Whoever did a language fo enrich,
To fcorn all little particles of fpeech?
50
For tho' they make the fenfe clear, yet they're found55
To be a fcurvy hind'rance to the Tound;
Therefore you wifely ſcorn your ſtyle to humble,
Or for the fenfe's fake to wave the rumble.
Had Homer known this art, he 'ad ne'er been fain
To ufe fo many particles in vain,
60
That to no purpoſe ſerve, but (as he haps
To want a fyllable) to fill up gaps.
You justly coin new verbs, to pay for thoſe
Which in conftruction you o'erfee and loſe ;
And by this art do Prifcian no wrong
65
When you break 's head, for 't is as broad as long.
Theſe are your own difcoveries, which none
But ſuch a Muſe as your's could hit upon,
That can, in fpight of laws of art, or rules,
Make things more intricate than all the ſchools: 70
For what have laws of art to do with
you,
More than the laws with honeft men and true?
He that's a prince in poetry ſhould ſtrive
To cry 'em down by his prerogative,
And not ſubmit to that which has no force
But o'er delinquents and inferiours
75
ON THE BRITISH PRINCES,
63
Your poems will endure to be well try'd
I' th' fire, like gold, and come forth purify'd;
Can only to eternity pretend,
For they were never writ to any end.
All other books bear an uncertain rate,
But thoſe you write are always fold by weight;
Each word and fyllable brought to the ſcale,
And valu'd to a fcruple in the fale.
80
For when the paper 's charg'd with your rich wit,85
'Tis for all purpoſes and uſes fit,
Has an abfterfive virtue to make clean
Whatever Nature made in man obſcene.
Boys find, b' experiment, no paper-kite,
Without your verfe, can make a noble flight.
It keeps our ſpice and atomaticks fweet;
In Paris they perfume their rooms with it:
For burning but one leaf of your's, they ſay,
Drives all their ftinks and naftinefs away.
90
Cooks keep their pies from burning with your wit,95
Their pigs and geeſe from ſcorching on the ſpit ;
And vintners find their wines are ne'er the worſe,
When ars'nick's only wrapp'd up in the verſe.
Thefe are the great performances that raiſe
Your mighty parts above all reach of praife,
And give us only leave t' admire your worth,
For no man, but yourſelf, can ſet it forth,
Whoſe wondrous pow'r fo generally known,
Fame is the echo, and her voice your own.
ICO
104
A PANEGYRICK
SIR,
UPON
SIR JOHN DENHAM'S
RECOVERY FROM HIS MADNESS
you've outliv'd fo defperate a fit
As nons could do but an immortal wit;
Had your's been lefs, all helps had been in vain,
And thrown away, tho' on a lefs fick brain;
But you were fo far from receiving hurt,
You grew improv'd, and much the better for 't.
As when th' Arabian bird does facrifice,
And burn himſelf in his own country's ſpice,
A maggot firſt breeds in his pregnant urn,
Which after does to a young phenix turn:
So your hot brain, burnt in its native fire,
Did life renew'd, and vig'rous youth acquire;
And with fo much advantage, ſome have gueſt,
Your afterwit is like to be your beſt,
And now expect far greater matters of ye
10
15
Than the bought Cooper's Hill, or borrow'd Sophy;
* It-thuft furprise the reader to find a writer of Butler's
judgment attacking, in fo fevere and contemptuous a man-
rer, the character of a poet fo much efteemed as Sir John
Denham was. If what he charges him with be true, there is,
indeed, fome room for fatire; but fill there is fuch a fpirit of
bitterness runs through the whole, befides the cruelty of ridi-
culing an infirmity of this nature, as can be accounted for by
nothing but ſome perfonal quarrel or difguft. How far this
weakneſs may carry the greateft geniuses, we have a proof in
what Pope has wrote of Addifen.
A PANEGYRICK ON SIR JOHN DENHAM.
65
Such as your Tully lately drefs'd in verſe,
19
25
Like thofe he made himſelf, or not much worſe;
And Seneca's dry fand unmix'd with lime,
Such as you cheat the King with, botch'd in rhyme.
Nor were your morals lefs improv'd, all pride,
And native infolence, quite laid aſide :
And that ungovern'd outrage, that was wont
All, that you durit with fafety, to affront.
No China cupboard rudely overthrown,
Nor Lady tipp'd, by b'ing accofted, down;
No poet jeer'd, for fcribbling amifs,
With verfes forty times more lewd than his :
Nor did your crutch give battle to your duns,
And hold it out, where you had built a ſconce;
Nor furiouſly laid orangewench aboard,
For afking what in fruit and love you 'ad fcor'd;
But all civility and complacence,
More than you ever us'd before or fince.
Befide, you never overreach'd the King
One farthing, all the while, in reckoning,
Nor brought in falfe accompt, with little tricks
Of paffing broken rubbiſh for whole bricks;
Falſe muſtering of workmen by the day,
Deduction out of wages, and dead pay
For thoſe that never liv'd; all which did come,
By thrifty management, to no ſmall fum.
30
35
40
You pull'd no lodgings down, to build them worſe,
Nor repair'd others, to repair your purfe,
Fiij
56
A PANIGYRICK ON SIR JOHN DENHAM.
As you were wont, till all you built appear'd
Like that Amphion with his fiddle rear❜d:
45
For had the fiones (like his) charm'd by your verſe,
Built up themfelves, they could not have done worſe:
And ſure, when firſt you ventur'd to ſurvey,
You did deſign to do 't no other way.
All this was done before thofe days began
In which you were a wife and happy man:
For whoc'er liv'd in fuch a paradife,
Until fresh ftraw and darkneſs op'd your eyes?
Whoever greater treafure could command,
Had nobler palaces, and richer land,
Than you had then, who could raiſe ſums as vaſt
As all the cheats of a Dutch war could waſte,
Or all thofe practis'd upon publick money?
50
55
For nothing, but your cure, could have undone ye.
For ever are you bound to curfe thofe quacks
That undertook to cure your happy cracks;
6r
For tho' no art can ever make them found,
The tamp'ring coft you threefcore thouſand pound.
How high might you have liv'd, and play'd, and loft,
Yet been no more undone by being chouft,
66
Nor forc'd upon the King's accompt to lay
All that, in ferving him, you loft at play?
For nothing but your brain was ever found
To fuffer fequeftration, and compound.
Yet you've an impofition laid on brick,
༡༠
For all you then laid out at Beaſt or Gleek;
UPON CRITICKS.
61
And when you've rais'd a fum, ftrait let it fly,
By underſtanding low, and vent'ring high;
Until you have redue'd it down to tick,
And then recruit again from lime and brick.
UPON CRITICKS
WHO JUDGE OF
MODERN PLAYS
76
PRECISELY BY THE RULES OF THE ANCIENTS*.
WHOEVER will regard poetick fury,
When it is once found Idiot by a jury,
And ev'ry pert and arbitrary fool
Can all poetick licenſe overrule;
Affume a barb'rous tyranny, to handle
The Muſes worſe than Oftrogoth and Vandal;
Make 'em fubmit to verdict and report,
And ſtand or fall to th' orders of a court?
Much lefs be ſentenc'd by the arbitrary
Proceedings of a witlefs plagiary,
That forges old records and ordinances
Againſt the right and property of fancies,
ΤΟ
* This warm invective was very próbably occafioned by
Mr. Rymer, Hiftoriographer to Charles H. who cenfured three
tragedies of Beaur ont's and Fletcher's.-The cold, fevere
critick, may perhaps find fome few inaccuracies to cenfure
in this compofition; but the reader of tafte will either over-
look or pardon them for the fake of the fpirit that runs
through it.
68
UPON CRITICKS.
More falfe and nice than weighing of the weather
To th' hundredth atom of the lighteſt feather,
Or meaſuring of air upon Parnaffus,
With cylinders of Torricellian glaſſes;
Reduce all Tragedy, by rules of art,
Back to its antique theatre, a cart,
And make them henceforth keep the beaten roads
Of rev'rend chorufes and epiſodes;
Reform and regulate a puppetplay,
According to the true and ancient way,
That not an actor ſhall preſume to ſqueak,
Unleſs he have a licenſe for 't in Greek;
Nor Whittington henceforward fell his cat in
Plain vulgar English, without mewing Latin:
No pudding fhall be fuffer'd to be witty,
Unleſs it be in order to raiſe pity;
Nor devil in the puppetplay b' allow'd
To roar and ſpit fire, but to fright the crowd,
Unleſs fome god or demon chance t'have piques
Againſt an ancient family of Greeks;
That other men may tremble, and take warning,
How fuch a fatal progeny they're born in;
For none but fuch for Tragedy are fitted,
That have been ruin'd only to be pity'd;
And only thoſe held proper to deter,
Who 've had th' ill luck againſt their wills to err.
Whence only fuch as are of middling fizes,
Between morality and venial vices,
15
20
25
30
35
49
UPON CRITICKS.
69
Are qualify'd to be deſtroy'd by Fate,
For other mortals to take warning at.
As if the antique laws of Tragedy
Did with our own municipal agree,
And ferv'd, like cobwebs, but t'enfnare the wead, 45
And give diverfion to the great to break;
To make a lefs delinquent to be brought
To anſwer for a greater perſon's fault,
And ſuffer all the worst the worſt approver
Can, to excufe and fave himfelf, difcover.
No longer fhall Dramaticks be confin'd
To draw true images of all mankind;
To punish in effigy criminals,
Reprieve the innocent, and hang the falſe;
But a clublaw to execute and kill,
५०
35
For nothing, whomfoe'er they pleaſe, at will,
To terrify ſpectators from committing
The crimes they did, and fuffer'd for unwitting.
Theſe are the reformations of the Stage,
65
Like other reformations of the age,
On purpoſe to deftroy all wit and fenfe,
As th' other did all law and confcience;
No better than the laws of British plays,
Confirm'd in th' ancient good King Howell's days,
Who made a genʼral council regulate
Men's catching women by the-you know what,
And fet down in the rubrick at what time
It ſhould be counted legal, when a crime,
65
70
UPON CRITICKS.
Declare when 't was, and when 't was not a fin,
And on what days it went out or came in.
An Engliſh poet ſhould be try'd b' his peers,
And not by pedants and philoſophers,
Incompetent to judge poetick fury,
As butchers are forbid to b' of a jury;
Befides the moft intolerable wrong
To try their matters in a foreign tongue,
By foreign jurymen, like Sophocles,
Or Tales falfer than Euripides;
When not an Engliſh native dares appear
To be a witneſs for the prifoner;
When all the laws they uſe t' arraign and try
The innocent and wrong'd delinquent by,
Were made b' a foreign lawyer, and his pupils,
To put an end to all poetick fcruples,
And by th' advice of virtuofi Tuſcans,
Determin'd all the doubts of focks and buſkins;
Gave judgment on all paft and future plays,
As is apparent by Speroni's cafe,
Which Lope Vega firſt began to ſteal,
And after him the French filou Corneille;
And fince our English plagiaries nim,
And ſteal their far-fet criticifms from him,
And by an action falfely laid of Trover,
The lumber for their proper goods recover;
Enough to furniſh all the lewd impeachers
Of witty Beaumont's poetry, and Fletcher's,
70
75
80
85
ga
. .
95
PROLOGUE TO THE QUEEN OF ARRAGON. 71
Who for a few mifprifions of wit,
100
Are charg'd by thoſe who ten times worfe commit;
And for misjudging ſome unhappy ſcenes,
Are cenfur'd for 't with more unlucky ſenſe;
When all their worſt miſcarriages delight,
And pleaſe more than the beſt that pedants write.
PROLOGUE
TO THE
QUEEN OF ARRAGON,
Acted before the
DUKE OF YORK, UPON HIS BIRTHDAY
SIR, while fo many nations ſtrive to pay
The tribute of their glories to this day,
That gave them earnest of fo great a fum
Of glory (from your future acts) to come,
And which you have diſcharg'd at ſuch a rate,
That all fucceeding times muft celebrate,
We, that fubfift by your bright influence,
And have no life but what we own from thence,
Come humbly to prefent you, our own way,
With all we have, (befide our hearts) a play.
5
IO
It is pretty remarkable that, amongft fuch a variety of
performances of our Poet's, this, and the Epilogue that follows,
thould be the only ones in the complimenting ftrain; and I
dare fay every reader will obferve, with a fmile, how foon,
even in this, he deferts the region of panegyrick, to refume
his natural turn of fatirical drollery upon the criticks.
72
PROLOGUE TO THE QUEEN OF ARRAGON,
But as devouteft men can pay no more
To deities than what they gave before,
We bring you only what your great commands
Did reſcue for us from engroffing hands,
That would have taken out adminiſtration
Of all departed poets' goods i' th' nation;
Or, like to lords of manors, ſeiz'd all plays
That come within their reach, as wefts and ſtrays,
And claim'd a forfeiture of all paft wit,
But that your juſtice put a ſtop to it.
'Twas well for us, who elſe muſt have been glad
T'admit of all who now write new and bad;
For ftill the wickeder fome authors write,
Others to write worfe are encourag'd by 't;
And tho' thoſe fierce inquifitors of wit,
The criticks, fpare no fleſh that ever writ,
But juſt as toothdraw'rs find, among the rout,
Their own teeth work in pulling others out,
So they, decrying all of all that write,
Think to erect a trade of judging by 't.
Small poetry, like other hereſies,
By being perfecuted multiplies;
But here they're like to fail of all pretence;
For he that writ this play is dead long fince,
And not within their power; for bears are faid
To fpare thofe that lie ftill and feem but dead.
15
20
25
30
36
EPILOGUE
TO THE SAME. TO THE DUCHESS.
MADAM, the joys of this great day are due,
No less than to your royal Lord, to you;
And while three mighty kingdoms pay your part,
You have, what's greater than them all, his heart,
That heart that, when it was his country's guard, 5
The fury of two elements outdar'd,
And made a ſtubborn haughty enemy
The terrour of his dreadful conduct fly;
And yet you conquer'd it—and made your charms
Appear no lefs victorious than his arms,
For which you oft' have triumph'd on this day,
And many more to come Heav'n grant you may.
But as great princes uſe, in folemn times
Of joy, to pardon all but heinous crimes,
If we have finn'd without an ill intent,
And done below what really we meant,
We humbly afk your pardon for 't, and pray
You would forgive, in honour of the day.
UPON PHILIP NYE'S
THANKSGIVING BEARD*.
A BEARD is but the vizard of a face,
That Nature orders for no other place;
10
18
* As our Poet has thought fit to bestow to many verſes
upon this trumpeter of fedition, it may, perhaps, be no
thankleſs office to give the reader fome further information
Volume 111.
Ꮐ
74
UPON 1. NYE'S THANKSGIVING BEARÐ.
The fringe and taffel of a countenance,
That hides his perfon from another man's,
And, like the Roman habits of their youth,
Is never worn until his perfect growth;
A privilege no other creature has,
To wear a nat'ral mafk upon his face,
That fhifts its likeness ev'ry day he wears,
To fit fome other perfons' characters,
And by its own mythology implies,
That men were born to live in fome difguife.
This fatisfy'd a rev'rend man, that clear'd
His difagreeing confcience by his Beard.
h'army,
5
to
He 'ad been preferr'd i' th' army, when the church 15
Was taken with a Why not? in the lurch;
When primate, metropolitan, and prelates,
Were turn'd to officers of horfe, and zealots,
about him than what merely relates to his beard.-He was
educated at Oxford, firft in Brafen noſe College, and after-
wards in Magd. Hall, where, under the influence of a Purita-
nical tutor, he received the firft tincture of fedition and dif
guſt to our ecclefiaftical eftablishment. After taking his de-
grees he went into orders, but foon left England to go and re-
fide in Holland, where he was not very likely to leffen thoſe
prejudices which he had already imbibed. In the year 1640
he returned home, became a furious Prefbyterian, and a zea-
lous ftickler for the Partament, and was thought confiderable
enough, in his way, to be ſent by his party into Scotland, to
encourage and ſpirit up the cauſe of the Covenant, in defence
of which he writ feveral pamphlets. However, as his zeal
atufe from felf-intereft and ambition, when the Independents
began to have the afcendant, and pow'r and profit ran in that
channel, he faced about, and became a ftrenuous preacher
on that fide; and in this fituation he was when he fell under
the lafh of Butler's fatire.
UPON P. NTE'S THANKSGIVING BEARD.
15
From whom he held the moft pluralities
Of contributions, donatives, and fal'ries;
Was held the chiefeft of thofe fp'ritual trumpets,
That founded charges to their fierceft combats,
But in the deſperateſt of defeats
Had never blown as opportune retreats,
Until the Synod order'd his departure
To London, from his caterwauling quarter,
To fit among 'em, as he had been chofen,
And pafs or null things at his own difpofing;
Could clap up fouls in limbo with a vote,
10
25
30
And for their fees difcharge and let them out,
Which made fome grandees bribe him with the place
Of holding forth upon Thankſgiving-days,
Whither the Members, two and two abreaſt,
March'd to take in the fpoils of all—the feaſt,
But by the way repeated the oh-hones
Of his wild Irish and chromatick tones;
His frequent and pathetick hums and haws,
He practis'd only t' animate the Cauſe,
With which the Sifters were fo prepoffeft,
They could remember nothing of the reft.
He thought upon it, and refolv'd to put
His Beard into as wonderful a cut,
And, for the further ſervice of the women,
T'abate the rigidneſs of his opinion;
And, but a day before, had been to find
The ablest virtuofo of the kind,
35
45
Cij
UPON P. NYE'S THANKSGIVING BEARD,
With whom he long and ſeriouſly conferr'd
On all intrigues that might concern his Beard;
By whofe advice he fate for a deſign
In little drawn, exactly to a line,
That if the creature chance to have occafion
To undergo a thorough reformation,
It might be borne conveniently about,
And by the meaneſt artiſt copy'd out.
50
This done he fent a journeyman fectary
55
He 'ad brought up to retrieve, and fetch, and carry,
To find out one that had the greateſt practice,
To prune and bleach the beards of all Fanaticks,
And ſet their most confus'd diſorders right,
Not by a new defign. but newer light,
60
Who us'd to have the grandees of their fticklers,
And crop the worthies of their Conventiclers;
To whom he fhew'd his new-invented draught,
And told him how 't was to be copy'd out.
Quoth he, 'Tis but a falfe and counterfeit,
And fcandalous device of human wit,
That's abs'lutely forbidden in the Scripture,
To make of any carnal thing the picture.
65
Quoth th' other faint, You muſt leave that to us
Tagree what's lawful, or what fcandalous,
For 'till it is determin'd by our vote,
'Tis either lawful, fcandalous, or not;
Which, fince we have not yet agreed upon,
Is left indiff'rent to avoid or own.
UPON P. NYE'S THANKSGITING BEARD.
77
Quoth he, My confcience never ſhall agree
To do it, till I know what 't is to be;
For tho' I uſe it in a lawful time,
What if it after ſhould be made a crime?
75
'Tis true we fought for liberty of conſcience,
'Gainſt human conftitutions, in our own fenle, 80
Which I'm refolv'd perpetually t'avow,
And make it lawful whatfoe'er we do;
Then do your office with your greateſt ſkill,
And let th' event befall us how it will.
This faid, the nice barbarian took his tools,
To prune the zealot's tenets and his jowles;
Talk'd on as pertinently as he fnipt,
A hundred times for ev'ry hair he clipt;
Until the Beard at length began t' appear,
85
and reaffume its antique character,
90
Grew more and more itſelf that art might ſtrive,
And ftand in competition with the life;
For fome have doubted if 't were made of fnips
Offables, glew'd and fitted to his lips,
And fet in fuch an artificial frame,
As if it had been wrought in filograin,
More fubtly fill'd and poliſh'd than the gin
That Vulcan caught himſelf a cuckold in;
That Lacheſis, that ſpins the threads of Fate,
Could not have drawn it out more delicate.
Put b'ing defign'd and drawn fo regular,
T'a fcrupulous pun&ilio of a hair,
95
100
C iij
78 UPON P. NYE'S THANKSGIVING BEARDƏ
Who could imagine that it fhould be portal
To ſelfiſh, inward-unconforming mortal ?
And yet it was, and did abominate
105
The least compliance in the Church or State,
And from itfelf did equally diffent,
As from religion and the government*.
108
* I find among Butler's manufcripts feveral other little
ſketches upon the fame fubje&t, but none worth printing,
except the following one may be thought paſſable, by way
of note.
*
This rev'rend brother, like a goat,
Did weara tail upon his throat,
The fringe and taffel of a face,
That gives it a becoming grace,
But fet in fuch a curious frame,
As if 't were wrought in filograin,
And cut fo ev'n, as if 't had been
Drawn with a pen upon his chin.
Notopiary hedge of quickfet.
Was e'er to neatly cat, or thick fet,
That made beholders more admire,
Than China-plate that 's made of wire;
But being wrought fo regular
In ev'ry part, and ev'ry hair,
Who would believe it fhou'd be portal
To unconforming inward mortal?
And yet it was, and did diffent
No lefs from its own government,
Than from the Church's, and deteft
That which it held forth and profeft;
Did equally abominate.
Conformity in Church and State;
And, like an hypocritick brother,
Profefs'd one thing, and did another,
As all things, where they e haft profek,
Are found to be regarded leaf,
SATIRE
WIGN THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN
WHO would believe that wicked earth,
Where Nature only brings us forth
To be found guilty and forgiv'n,
Shou'd be a nurſery for Heav'n,
When all we can expect to do
Will not pay half the debt we owe,
And yet more defperately dare,
As if that wretched trifle were
Too much for the eternal Pow'rs,
Our great and mighty creditors,
Not only flight what they enjoin,
But pay it in adult'rate coin?
We only in their mercy trust,
To be more wicked and anjuft;
All our devotions, vows, and pray'rs,
Are our own intereft, not theirs;
5
10
15
* In this compofition the reader will have the pleasure of
viewing Butler in a light in which he has not hitherto appeared.
Every thing, almoft, that he has wrote, is indeed fatirical, but
in an arch and droll manner, and he may be faid rather to have
laughed at the vices and follies of mankind than to have railed
at them. In this he is ferious and fevere, exchanges the ridi-
culum for the aori, and writes with the fpirited indignation of
a Juvenal or a Perfius. Good natured readers may perhaps
think the invective too bitter; but the fame good nature will
excufe the Poet, when it is confidered what an edge must be
given to his fatirical wit by the age in which he lived, diftin-
guilhed by the two extremes of hypocrify and enthuſiaſm on
the one part, and irreligion and immorality on the other.
20 UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN,
Our off'rings, when we come t' adore,
But begging preſents to get more;
The pureft bus'nefs of our zeal
Is but to err, by meaning well,
20
And make that meaning do more harm
Than our worſt deeds, that are leſs warm;
For the moft wretched and perverſe
Does not believe himfelf he errs.
Our holieſt actions have been
Th' effects of wickedneſs and ſin;
25
Religious houfes made compounders
For th' horrid actions of the founders;
Steeples that totter'd in the air,
By letchers finn'd into repair;
30
As if we had retain'd no fign
Nor character of the divine
And heav'nly part of human nature,
But only the coarſe earthy matter.
Our univerfal inclination
Tends to the worft of our creation,
As if the ſtars confpir'd t' imprint,
In our whole fpecies, by inftinct,
A fatal brand and ſignature
Of nothing else but the impure.
The beft of all our actions tend
To the prepofterouſeſt end,
And, like to mongrels, we 're inclin'd
To take moft to th' ignobler kind;
35
40
UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN. 81
Or monfters, that have always leaft
Of the human parent, not the beaft.
Hence 'tis we've no regard at all
Of our beit half original;
But, when they differ, ftill affert
The int'reft of th' ignobler part;
Spend all the time we have upon
The vain capriches of the one,
But grudge to spare one hour, to know
What to the better part we owe.
As in all compound ſubſtances,
The greater ftill devours the lefs;
30, being born and bred up near
Our earthy grofs relations here,
Far from the ancient nobler place
Of all our high paternal race,
We now degenerate, and grow
As barbarous, and mean, and low,
As modern Grecians are, and worſe,
To their brave nobler anceſtors.
Yet as no barb'roufneſs befide
Is half fo barbarous as pride,
Nor any prouder infolence
Than that which has the leaft pretence,
We are fo wretched to profefs
A glory in our wretchedneſs;
To vapour fillily and rant
Of our own mifery and want,
45
30
55
60
61
10
82 UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN,
And grow vainglorious on a ſcore
We ought much rather to deplore,
Who the first moment of our lives,
15
Are but condemn'd, and giv'n reprieves;
And our great'ft grace is not to know
When we ſhall pay 'em back, nor how,
Begotten with a vain caprich,
And live as vainly to that pitch.
80
Our pains are real things, and all
Our pleaſures but fantaſtical;
Diſeaſes of their own accord,
But cures come difficult and hard.
Our nobleft piles, and ſtatelieft rooms,
85
Are but outhoufes to our tombs;
Cities, tho' e'er fe great and brave,
But mere warehoufes to the grave.
Our brav'ry's but a vain diſguife,
To hide us from the world's dull eyes,
90
The remedy of a defect,
With which our nakedneſs is deckt;
Yet makes us fwell with pride, and boaſt,
As if we 'ad gain'd by being loft.
All this is nothing to the evils
93
Which men, and their confed'rate devils
Inflict, to aggravate the curſe
Qn their own hated kind much worſe,
As if by nature they 'ad been ferv'd
More gently than their fate deſerv'd,
ICO
UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN. 83.
Take pains (in juſtice) to invent,
And ftudy their own puniſhment;
That, as their crimes fhou'd greater grow,
So might their own inflictions too,
Hence bloody wars at firſt began,
The artificial plague of man.
That from his own invention rife,
To fcourge his own iniquities;
105
That if the heav'ns fhou'd chance to spare
Supplies of conftant poifon'd air,
110
They might not, with unfit delay,
For lingering deftruction ſtay,
Nor feek recruits of death fo far,
But plague themſelves with blood and war.
IIS
And if theſe fail, there is no good
Kind Nature e'er on man beftow'd,
But he can eaſily divert
To his own mifery and hurt;
Make that which Heaven meant to blefs
Th' ungrateful world with gentle Peace,
110
With lux'ry and excefs, as faft
As war and defolation waſte;
Promote mortality, and kill
As faft as arms, by fitting ftill;
Like earthquakes flay without a blow,
And only moving overthrow;
Make law and equity as dear
As plunder and free-quarter were,
125
84 UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN,
130
133
140
And fierce encounters at the bar
Undo as faſt as thofe in war:
Enrich bawds, whores, and ufurers,
Pimps, fcriv'ners, filenc'd minifters,
That get eftates by b'ing undone
For tender confcience, and have none.
Like thoſe that with their credit drive
A trade, without a flock, and thrive;
Advance men in the church and hate
For being of the meanest rare,
Rais'd for their double-guil`d deferts,
Before integrity and parts;
Produce more grievous complaints
For plenty, than before for wants,
And make a rich and fruitful year
A greater grievance than a dear;
Make jefts of greater dangers far,
Than thofe they trembled at in war;
Till unawares, they 've laid a train
To blow the publick up again;
Rally with horrour, and, in fport,
Rebellion and deſtruction court,
And make fanaticks, in defpight
Of all their madneſs, reafon right,
And vouch to all they have forefhown,
145
150
As other monſters oft' have done,
Altho' from truth and fenfe as far,
As all their other maggots are :
S
15$
UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN. 85
For things faid falfe, and never meant,
Do oft' prove true by accident.
That wealth that bounteous Fortune fends
As preſents to her deareſt friends,
Is oft' laid out upon a purchaſe
160
Of two yards long in parish churches,
And thoſe too happy men that bought it
Had liv'd, and happier too, without it :
For what does vast wealth bring but cheat,
163
Law, luxury, difcafe, and debt;
Pain, pleaſure, difcontent, and ſport,
An eafy-troubled life and ſhort?
But all theſe plagues are nothing near
Thofe, far more cruel and fevere,
170
.168.] Though this fatire feems fairly tranfcribed for the
prefs, yet, on a vacancy in the sheet oppofite to this line; I find
the following verfes, which probably were intended to be add-
ed, but as they are not regularly inferted, I chufe rather to
give them by way of note.
For men ne'er digg'd fo deep into
The bowels of the earth below,
For metals, that are found to dwell
Near neighbour to the pit of hell,
And have a magick pow'r to fway
The greedy fouls of men that way,
But with their bodies have been fain
To fill thofe trenches up again;
When bloody battles have been fought
For ſharing that which they took out:
For wealth is all things that conduce
To man's deftruction or his uſe;
A ſtandard both to buy and fell
All things from heaven down to hell.
Volume III.
H
36 UPON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MANY
173
180
Unhappy man takes pains to find,
T' infli& himfelf upon his mind:
And out of his own bowels fpins
A rack and torture for his fins;
Torments himſelf, in vain, to know
That moft which he can never do ;
And the more ftri&tly 't is deny'd,
The more he is unfatisfy'd;
Is bufy in finding fcruples out,
To languiſh in eternal doubt;
Sees fpectres in the dark, and ghoſts,
And ſtarts, as horfes do at pofts,
And, when his eyes affift him leaft,
Difterns fuch fubtle objects best.
On hypothetick dreams and vifions
Grounds everlaſting difquifitions,
And raifes endless controverfies
On vulgar theorems and hearfays;
Grows pofitive and confident,
In things fo far beyond th' extent
Of human fenſe he does not know
Whether they be at all or no,
And doubts as much in things that are
As plainly evident and clear;
Difdains all uſeful fenfe, and plain,
T" apply to th' intricate and vain;
And cracks his brains in plodding on
That which is never to be known;
185
ICO
193
FON THE WEAKNESS AND MISERY OF MAN. Ey
To poſe himſelf with fubtleties,
And hold no other knowledge wife;
Altho' the fubtler all things are,
They're but to nothing the more near
And the lefs weight they can fuftain,
The niore he fill lays on in vain,
And hangs his feul
upon as nice
And fubtle curiofities,
As one of that veft multitude
That on a needle's point have flood;
Weighs right and wrong, and true and falfe,
Upon as nice and fubtle fcales,
As thofe that turn upon a plane
With th' hundredth part of half a grain,
And ſtill the ſubtler they move,
The fooner falfe and ufelefs prove.
So man, that thinks to force and ſtræir,
Beyond its natural ſphere, his brain,
In vain torments it on the rack,
And, for improving, fets it back;
Is ignorant of his own extent,
And that to which his aims are bent ;
Is loft in both, and breaks his blade
Upon the anvil where 't was made :
For as abortions coft more pain
Than vig'rous births, fo all the vain
And weak productions of man's wit,
That aim at purpoſes unfit,
H
200
105
210
220
225
88 UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES II,
Require more drudgery, and worſe,
Than thofe of ftrong and lively force.
SATIRE
UPON THE LICENTIOUS ASE OF CHARLES II,
'Tis a ſtrange age we've liv'd in, and a lewd,
As e'er the fun in all his travels view'd;
228
An age as vile as ever Juſtice urg'd,
Like a fantaſtick letcher to be fcourg'd;
Nor has it 'fcap'd, and yet has only learn'd,
The more 't is plagu'd, to be the lefs concern'd.
Twice have we ſeen two dreadful judgments rage,
Enough to fright the ftubborn'ft-hearted age;
The one to mow vaft crowds of people down,
The other (as then needlefs) half the Town;
And two as mighty miracles reftore
What both had ruin'd and deſtroy'd before;
In all as unconcern'd as if they 'ad been
But paftimes for diverfion to be ſeen,
19
Or, like the plagues of Egypt, meant a curſe,
Not to reclains us, but to make us worfe.
15
As the preceding fatire was upon mankind in general, with
fome allufion to that age in which it was wrote, this is par-
ticularly levelled at the licentious and debauched times of
Charles II. humorously contrafted with the Puritanical ones.
which went before, and is a freth proof of the Author's impar•.
tiality, and that he was not, as is generally, but falfely ima
gined, a bigot to the Cavalier party.
UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLESTI. Bg
Twice have men turn'd the World (that filly block-
head)
The wrong fide outward, like a juggler's pocket,
Shook out hypocrify as faft and loofe
As e'er the dev'l could teach, or finners ufe,
And on the other fide at once put in
As impotent iniquity and fin,
As fculls that have been crack'd are often found
Upon the wrong fide to receive the wound;
And like tobacco-pipes at one end hit,
To break at th' other ſtill that's oppofit;
So men, who one extravagance would thun,
Into the contrary extreme have run;
And all the diff'rence is, that as the first
Provokes the other freak to prove
the worst,
So, in return, that ftrives to render lefs
The laft delufion, with its own exceſs,
And, like two unfkill'd gamefters, ufe one way.
With bungling t' help out one another's play.
For those who heretofore fought private holes,
Securely in the dark to damn their fouls,
Wore vizards of hypocrify, to ſteal
And ſlink away in maſquerade to hell,
Now bring their crimes into the open fun,
For all mankind to gaze their worſt upon,
As eagles try their young againſt his-rays,
ぼっ
​prove if they're of gen'rous breed or baſe;
Hijj
20
25
35
1
90 UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES H.
45
Call heav'n and earth to witneſs how they've aira'd,
With all their utmoſt vigour, to be damn'd,
And by their own examples, in the view
Of all the world, ftriv'd to damn others too;
On all occafions fought to be as civil
As poffible they could t' his grace the Devil,
To give him no unneceffary trouble,
Nor in fmall matters ufe a friend ſo noble,
50
But with their conftant practice done their beſt
T'improve and propagate his intereft :
For men have now made vice fo great an art,
The matter of fat's become the flighteft part;
And the debauched'ft actions they can do,
Mere trifles to the circumftance and fhow.
For 't is not what they do that's now the fin,
But what they lewdly' affect and glory in,
As if prepoft roufly they would profefs
A forc'd hypocrify of wickednefs,
And affectation, that makes good things bad,
Muft make affected fhame accurs'd and mad;
For vices for themſelves may
find excufe,
But never for their complement and fhews;
That if there ever were a mystery
Of moral fecular iniquity,
And that the churches may not lofe their due
By being encroach'd upon, 't is now, and new:
For men are now as fcrupulous and nice,
And tender-confcienc'd of low paltry vice,
LA
ངུ་
60
63
70
UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES II. 91
Difdain as proudly to be thought to have
To do in any miſchief but the brave,
As the moſt ſcrup'lous zealot of late times
'T' appear in
in any
but the horrid'ft crimes;
Have as precife and ftrict punctilios
Now to appear, as then to make no fhows,
And ſteer the world by difagreeing force.
Of diff'rent cuſtoms 'gainſt her natʼral courſe:
So pow'rful's ill example to encroach,
And Nature, ſpite of all her laws, debauch,
Example, that imperious dictator
Of all that's good or bad to human nature,
By which the world's corrupted and reclaim'd,
Hopes to be fav'd and ſtudies to be damn'd;
That reconciles all contrarieties,
Makes wiſdom fooliſhneſs, and folly wife,
Impoſes on divinity, and fets
Her feal alike on truths and counterfeits;
Alters all characters of virtue' and vice,
And paffes one for th' other in diſguiſe;
Makes all things, as it pleafes, underſtood,
The good receiv'd for bad, and bad for good;
That flily counterchanges wrong and right,
Like white in fields of black, and black in white;
As if the laws of Nature had been made
Of purpoſe only to be diſobey'd;
Or man had loft his mighty intereft,
By having been diſtinguiſh'd from a beaſt ;
73
80
85
५०
95
:
$1 UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES II.
And had no other way but fin and vice,
To be reftor'd again to Paradiſe.
How copious is our language lately grown,
To make blafpheming wit, and a jargon ?
And yet how expreffive and fignificant,
In damme, at once to curſe, and fwear, and rant ?
As if no way exprefs'd men's fouls fo well,
As damning of them to the pit of hell;
Nor any
affev'ration were fo civil,
As mortgaging falvation to the devil;
Or that his name did add a charming grace,
And blafphemy a purity to our phrafe.
For what can any language more enrich,
Than to pay fouls for vitiating ſpeech;
100
105
When the great'ft tyrant in the world made thoſe
But lick their words out that abus'd his profe?
What trivial puniſhments did then prote&
To publick cenfure a profound reſpect,
When the most fhameful penance, and fevere,
'That could b' inflicted on a Cavalier
For infamous debauch'ry, was no worſe
ITO
115
Than but to be degraded from his horſe,
120
And have his livery of oats and hay,
Inflead of cutting ipurs off, tak'n away?
They held no torture then fo great as fhame,
And that to flay was less than to defame;
For juft fo much regard as men exprefs
To th' cenfure of the publick, more or lefs,
125
UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES IT. 93
'The fame will be return'd to them again,
In fhame or reputation, to a grain;
And how perverfe foe'er the world appears,
'Tis juft to all the bad it fees and hears;
And for that virtue ſtrives to be allow'd
For all the injuries it does the good.
130
How filly were their fages heretofore,
To fright their heroes with a fyren whore?
Make 'em believe a water-witch, with charms, 135
Could fink their men of war as eafy' as ftorms,
And turn their mariners, that heard them fing,
Into land porpufes, and cod, and ling;
To terrify thoſe mighty champions,
As we do children now with Bloodybones;
140
Until the fubtleft of their conjurers
Seal'd up the labels to his foul, his ears,
And ty'd his deafen'd failors (while he paſt
The dreadful lady's lodgings) to the maſt,
And rather venture drowning than to wrong
The fea-pugs' chafte ears with a bawdy fong:
To b' out of countenance, and, like an afs,
Not pledge the Lady Circe one beer-glaſs ;
Unmannerly refuſe her treat and wine,
For fear of being turn'd into a ſwine,
When one of our heroick advent'rers now,
Would drink her down, and turn her int' a fow.
So fimple were thoſe times, when a grave fage
Could with an old wife's tale inftruct the age,
145
150
94 UPON THE LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES II.
155
160
Teach virtue more fantaflick ways and nice,
Than ours will now endure t' improve in vice,
Made a dull fentence, and a moral fable,
Do more than all our holdingsforth are able,
A forc'd obfcure mythology convince,
Beyond our worſt inflictions upon fins;
When an old proverb, or an end of verſe,
Could more than all our penal laws coerce,
And keep men honeſter than all our furies
Of jailors, judges, conftables, and juries;
Who were converted then with an old faying, 165
Better than all our preaching now, and praying.
What fops had theſe been, had they liv'd with us,
Where the beſt reaſon 's made ridiculous,
And all the plain and fober things we ſay,
By raillery are put beſide their play?
For men are grown above all knowledge now,
And what they're ignorant of difdain to know;
Engrofs truth (like Fanaticks) underhand,
And boldly judge before they underſtand;
The felf-fame courfes equally advance
In fp'ritual and carnal ignorance.
And, by the fame degrees of confidence,
Become impregnable againſt all fenſe;
For as they outgrew ordinances then,
So would they now morality agen,
Tho' Drudgery and Knowledge are of kin,
And both defcended from one parent, Sin,
£70
175
180
UPON GAMING.
And therefore feldom have been known to part,
In tracing out the ways of Truth and Art,
Yet they have northweft paffages to ſteer
A fhort way to it, without pains or care:
For as implicit faith is far more ſtiff
Than that which underftands its own belief,
So thoſe that think and do but think they know,
Are far more obftinate than thoſe that do,
And more averfe than if they'd ne'er been taught
A wrong way, to a right one to be brought;
Take boldnefs upon credit beforehand,
And grow too pofitive to underſtand;
185
190
Believe themſelves as knowing and as famous, 195
As if their gifts had gotten a mandamus,
A bill of ftore to take up a degree,
With all the learning to it, cuitom-free,
And look as big for what they bought at Court,
As if they 'ad done their exerciſes for 't.
SATIRE
UPON GAMING.
WHAT fool would trouble Fortune more,
When she has been too kind before;
Or tempt her to take back again
What ſhe had thrown away in vain,
By idly vent'ring her good graces
To be difpos'd of by ames-aces ;
200
96
UPON GAMING.
Or fettling it in truft to ufes
Out of his pow'r, on trays and deufes;
To put it to the chance, and try,
I' th' ballot of a box and dye,
Whether his money be his own,
And lofe it, if he be o'erthrown;
As if he were betray'd, and fet
By his own ſtars to ev'ry cheat,
Or wretchedly condemn'd by Fate
To throw dice for his own eftate;
As mutineers, by fatal doom,
Do for their lives upon a drum?
For what lefs influence can produce
So great a monfter as a choufe,
Or any two-legg'd thing poffefs
With fuch a brutifh fottiſhneſs?
Unleſs thofe tutelary ftars,
Entrusted by aftrologers
To have the charge of man, combin'd
ΙΩ
IS
20
25
To ufe him in the felf-fame kind;
As thofe that help'd them to the truſt,
Are wont to deal with others juſt.
For to become fo fadly dull
And ſtupid, as to fine for gull,
30
(Not as, in cities, to b' excus'd,
But to be judg'd fit to be us’d)
That whofoe'er can draw it in
Is fure inevitably t' win,
2
UPON GAMING.
97
And, with a curs'd half-witted fate,
To grow more dully deſperate,
The more 't is made a common prey,
And cheated foppishly at play,
Is their condition, Fate betrays
To Folly firſt, and then deſtroys.
For what but miracles can ferve
So great a madneſs to preferve,
35
40
As his, that ventures goods and chattels
(Where there's no quarter giv'n) in battles,
And fights with moneybags as bold,
43
As men with fandbags did of old;
Puts lands, and tenements, and ſtocks,
Into a paltry juggler's box;
And, like an alderman of Gotham,
Embarketh in fo vile a bottom;
30
Engages blind and fenfeleſs hap
'Gainft high, and low, and flur, and knap,
(As Tartars with a man of ſtraw
Encounter lions hand to paw)
With thoſe that never venture more
55
Than they 'ad fafely' enfur'd before;
Who, when they knock the box, and ſhake,
Do, like the Indian rattlesnake,
But ſtrive to ruin and deſtroy
Thoſe that miſtake it for fair play;
That have their fulhams at command,
Brought up to do their feats at hand;
Volume III.
I
60
98
UPON GAMING.
That understand their calls and knocks,
And how to place themſelves i' th' box;
Can tell the oddfes of all games,
And when to anſwer to their names;
And, when he conjures them t' appear,
Like imps are ready ev'ry where;
When to play foul, and when run fair
(Out of defign) upon the fquare,
And let the greedy cully win,
65
70
Only to draw him further in;
While thofe with which he idly plays
Have no regard to what he fays,
Altho' he jernie and blafphemie,
75
When they mifcarry, heav'n and them,
And damn his foul, and fwear, and curfe,
And crucify his Saviour worfe
Than thofe Jew-troopers that threw out,
When they were raffling for his coat ;
Denounce revenge, as if they heard,
And rightly underſtood and fear'd,
And wou'd take heed another time
How to commit fo bold a crime;
When the poor bones are innocent
Of all he did, or faid, or meant,
And have as little fenfe, almoft,
As he that damns them when he 'as loft;
As if he had rely'd upon
Their judgment rather than his own;
80
85
90
TO A BAD POET.
09
And that it were their fault, not his,
That manag'd them himſelf amifs,
And gave them ill inftructions how
To run, as he wou'd have them do,
And then condemns them fillily
For having no more wit than he?
SATIRE,
TO A BAD FOET.
GREAT famous wit, whofe rich and eaſy vein,
Free, and unus'd to drudgery and pain,
Has all Apollo's treaſure at command,
And how good verfe is coin'd doſt underſtand,
In all Wit's combats mafter of defence,
Tell me, how doft thou pafs on rhyme and fenfe?
"Tis faid they' apply to thee, and in thy verſe
Do freely range themfelves as volunteers,
And without pain, or pumping for a word,
Place themſelves fitly of their own accord.
I, whom a loud caprich (for fome great crime
I have committed) has condemn'd to rhyme,
With flaviſh obftinacy vex my brain
To reconcile 'em, but, alas! in vain.
Sometimes I fet my wits upon
the rack,
And, when I would ſay white, the verſe ſays black.
When I would draw a brave man to the life,
It names fome flave that pimps to his own wife,
96
5
10
15
1 i
TO A BAD PORT.
20
Or baſe poltroon, that would have fold his daughter,
If he had met with any to have bought her.
When I would praiſe an author, the untoward
Damn'd fenfe, fays Virgil, but the rhyme-
In fine, whate'er I ftrive to bring about,
The contrary (pight of my heart) comes out.
Sometimes, enrag'd for time and pains mifpent, 25
I give it over, tir'd, and difcontent,
And, damning the dull fiend a thouſand times,
By whom I was poffefs'd, fortwear all rhymes;
But having curs'd the Mufes, they appear,
To be reveng'd for 't, ere I am aware.
Spight of myfelf I ftrait take fire agen,
Fail to my taſk with paper, ink, and pen,
And breaking all the oaths I made, in vain
From verſe to verfe expect their aid again.
But if my Mufe or I were fo difcreet
30
35
T'endure, for rhyme's fake, one dull epithet,
I might, like others, eafily command
Words without ſtudy, ready and at hand
In praiſing Chloris, moons, and flars, and fkies,
Are quickly made to match her face and eyes;- 10
And gold and rubies, with as little care,
To fit the colour of her lips and hair;
And mixing funs, and flow'rs, and pearl, and ſtones,
Make 'em ferve all complexions at once.
*.22. Damn'd fenfe, fays Virgil, but the rhyme-] This
blank and another at the clofe of the Poem, the Author
evidently chofe should be fupplied by the reader, it is not my
bafinefs therefore to deprive him of that fatisfaction.
TO A BAD POET.
for
With thefe fine fancies, at hap-hazard writ,
I could make verfes without art or wit,
45
50
And, fhifting forty times the verb and noun,
With ftolen impertinence patch up mine own:
But in the choice of words my fcrup'lous wit
Is fearful to pafs one that is unfit;
Nor can endure to fill up a void place,
At a line's end, with one infipid phraſe;
And, therefore, when I fcribble twenty times,
When I have written four, I blot two rhymes.
May he be damn'd who firſt found out that curfe, 55
T'impriſon and confine his thoughts in verſe;
To hang fo dull a clog upon his wit,
And make his reaſon to his rhyme ſubmit.
Without this plague I freely might have spent
My happy days with leifure and content;
Had nothing in the world to do or think,
Like a fat prieft, but whore, and eat, and drink
Had paſt my time as pleaſantly away,
Slept all the night, and loiter'd all the day.
;
60
My foul, that's free from care, and fear, and hope, 65
Knows how to make her own ambition ſtoop,
T'avoid uneafy greatnefs and reſort,
Or for preferment following the Court.
How happy had I been if, for a curfe,
The Fates had never fentenc'd me to verfe?
But ever fince this peremptory vein,
With reſtleſs frenzy, firft poffefs'd my brain,
70
I iij
ICZ
TO A BAD POET.
And that the devil tempted me, in ſpite
Of my own happineſs, to judge and write,
Shut up against my will, I wafte my age
In mending this, and blotting out that page,
And grow fo weary of the flavish trade,
I envy their condition that write bad.
O happy Scudery! whoſe eaſy quill
Can, once a month, a mighty volume fill;
For tho' thy works are written in deſpite
Of all good ſenſe, impertinent, and flight,
They never have been known to ſtand in need
Of ftationer to fell, or fot to read;
For fo the rhyme be at the verſe's end,
No matter whither all the reft does tend.
Unhappy is that man who, fpite of's heart,
Is forc'd to be ty'd up to rules of art.
A fop that fcribbles does it with delight,
Takes no pains to confider what to write,
But, fond of all the nonfenfe he brings forth,
Is ravifh'd with his own great wit and worth;
While brave and noble writers vainly ſtrive
To ſuch a height of glory to arrive ;
But ſtill with all they do unfatisfy'd:
Ne'er pleaſe themſelves, tho' all the world befidė :
And thofe whom all mankind admire for wit,
With for their own fakes they had never writ.
Thou, then, that feeft how ill I ſpend my time,
Teach me, for pity, how to make a rhyme;
75
80
BS
95
100
RIDICULOUS IMITAT
RINÍCÉLOUS
OY THE TRENCH. 103
And if th' inftru&tions chance to prove in vain,
Teach-how ne'er to write again.
SATIRE
102
ON OUR RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH.
WHO wou'd not rather get him gone
Beyond th' intolerableſt zone,
Or fteer his paffage thro' thofe feas
That burn in flames, or thoſe that freeze,
Than fee one nation go to ſchool,
And learn of another like a fool?
To ſtudy all its tricks and fafhions
With epidemick affectations,
And dare to wear no mode or dreſs
But what they in their wifdem pleaſe;
As monkies are, by being taught
To put on gloves and ſtockings, caught;
Submit to all that they deviſe,
As if it wore their liveries;
Make ready' and dreſs the imagination,
Not with the clothes, but with the faſhion;
And change it, to fulfil the curfe
Of Adam's fall, for new, tho' worſe;
ΙΟ
15
. 1.] The object of this fatire was that extravagant and ri-
diculous imitation of the French which prevailed in Charles
II.'s reign, partly owing to the connexion and intercourfe
which the politicks of thoſe times obliged us to have with
that nation, and partly to our eager defire of avoiding the for-
mal and precife gravity of the hypocritical age that preceded,
FC4 RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH.
To make their breeches fall and rife
From middle legs to middle thighs,
The tropicks between which the hoſe
Move always as the faſhion goes:
Sometimes wear hats like pyramids,
And fometimes flat, like pipkins' lids;
20
With broad brimes, fometimes, like umbrellas, 25
And fometimes narrow' as Punchinellos:
In coldest weather
go unbrac'd,
And clofe in hot, as if th' were lac'd;
Sometimes with fleeves and bodies wide,
And fometimes ſtraiter than a hide:
hairs
Wear peruques, and with falfe grey
Difguife the true ones, and their years;
That, when they're modish with the young
The old may feem fo in the throng;
And as fome pupils have been known,
30
35
In time to put their tutors down,
So ours are often found to 've got
More tricks than ever they were taught:
With fly intrigues and artifices
Ufurp their poxes and their vices;
40
With garnitures upon their ſhoes,
Make good their claim to gouty toes;
By ſudden ſtarts, and fhrugs, and groans,
Pretend to aches in their bones,
To fcabs and botches, and lay trains
45
To prove their running of the reins;
BIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH. 105
And, left they fhou'd feem deftitute
Of any mange that's in repute,
And be behind hand with the mode
Will fwear to crystallin and node;
And, that they may not lofe their right,
Make it appear how they came by 't:
50
Difdain the country where th' were born,
As baftards their own mothers fcorn,
And that which brought them forth contemn,
55
As it deferves for bearing them;
Admire whate'er they find abroad,
But nothing here, tho' e'er fo good
Be natives wherefoe'er they come,
And only foreigners at home;
To which th' appear fo far eftrang'd,
As if they 'ad been i' th' cradel chang'd,
Or from beyond the feas convey'd
not born here, but laid;
By witches
Or by outlandish fathers were
Begotten on their mothers here,
And therefore july flight that nation
Where they've fo mongrel a relation;
And feek out other climates, where
They may degen'rate lefs than here;
Go
65
10
As woodcocks, when their plumes are grown,
Borne on the wind's wings and their own,
Forfake the countries where they're hatch'd,
And feek out others to be catch'd;
ICÓ RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCHÈ
So they more nat’rally may pleaſe
And humour their own geniuses,
Apply to all things which they fee
With their own fancies beft agree;
No matter how ridiculous,
"Tis all one, if it be in uſe;
For nothing can be bad or good,
But as 't is in or out of mode;
And as the nations are that uſe it,
All ought to practiſe or refuſe it;
art;
T'obferve their poſtures, move, and ſtand,
As they give out the word o' command;
To learn the dulleft of their whims,
And how to wear their very limbɛ;
To turn and manage ev'ry part,
Like puppets, by their rules of
To fhrug difcreetly, act, and tread,
And politickly ſhake the head,
Until the ignorant (that guefs
At all things by th' appearances)
To fee how Art and Nature ſtrive,
Believe them really alive,
And that they're very men, not things
That move by puppet-work and ſprings;
When truly all their fates have been
As well perform'd by motion-men,
And the worſt drolls of Punchinellos
Were much th' ingenioufer fellows;
75
80
85
90
95
ICO
RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH. ICJ
For when they're perfect in their leſſon,
Th' hypothefis grows out of feaſon,
And, all their labour loft, they're fain
To learn new, and begin again;
To talk eternally and loud,
And altogether in a crowd,
No matter what; for in the noiſe
No man minds what another fays:
T' affume a confidence beyond
Mankind, for folid and profound,
And ſtill the leſs and lefs they know,
The greater dofe of that allow :
Decry all things; for to be wife
Is not to know, but to defpife;
And deep judicious confidence
Has ftill the odds of wit and ſenſe,
And can pretend a title to
Far greater things than they can do:
T' adorn their English with French fcraps,
And give their very language claps;
To jernie rightly, and renounce
I' th' pure and moft approv'd of tones,
And, while they idly think t' enrich,
Adulterate their native ſpeech:
For tho' to fmatter ends of Greek
105
110
115
120
125
Or Latin be the rhetorique
Of pedants counted, and vainglorious,
To fmatter French is meritorious;
130
108
UPON DRUNKENNESS.
And to forget their mother-tongue,
Or purpoſely to ſpeak it wrong,
A hopeful fign of parts and wit,
And that they' improve and benefit;
As thofe that have been taught amifs
In lib'ral arts and fciences,
Muft all they 'ad learnt before in vain
Forget quite, and begin again.
'T.
SATIRE
UPON DRUNKENNESA.
Is pity wine, which Nature meant
To man in kindneſs to prefent,
And gave him kindly, to careſs
And cherish his frail happinefs,
Of equal virtue to renew
His weary'd mind and body too,
Shou'd (like the cyder-tree in Eden,
Which only grew to be forbidden)
No fooner come to be enjoy'd,
But th' owner's fatally deſtroy'd;
And that which ſhe for good defign'd,
Becomes the ruin of mankind,
That for a little vain excefs
Runs out of all its happiness,
And makes the friend of Truth and Love
Their greatest adverfary prove;
135
138
3
UPON DRUNKENNESS.
ICO
'T' abufe a bleffing the beſtow'd
So truly' effentially to his good,
To countervail his penfive cares,
And flavish drudg'ry of affairs;
To teach him judgment, wit, and fenfe,
And, more than all thefe, confidence;
To país his times of recreation
In choice and noble converfation,
Catch truth and reafon unawares,
As men do health in wholefome airs;
(While fools their converfants poffefs
As unawares with fottifhnefs)
To gain accefs a private way
To man's beft fenfe, by its own key,
Which painful judgers ftrive in vain
By any other courſe t' obtain;
To pull off all difguife, and view
Things as they're natural and true;
Difcover fools and knaves, allow'd
For wife and honeft in the crowd;
With innocent and virtuous fport
Make ſhort days long, and long nights ſhort,
And mirth, the only antidote
20
20
૩૦
35
Againſt difeafes cre they're got;
40
To fave health harmleſs from th' accefs
Both of the med'cine and difeafe;
Or make it help itfelf, fecure
Againſt the defperat'ft fit the cure.
Volume III.
XIO
UPON DRUNKENNESS.
All thefe fublime prerogatives
43
Of happineſs to human lives,
He vainly throws away, and flights
For madneſs, ncife, and bloody fights;
When nothing can decide, but fwords
And pots, the right or wrong of words,
Like princes' titles; and he's outed
50
The juftice of his caufe that's routed.
No fooner has a charge been founded
With
Son of a whore, and Damn'd confounded,
And the bold fignal giv'n, the lie,
55
But inftantly the bottles fly,
Where cups and glaſſes are ſmall ſhot,
And cannon-ball a pewter-pot:
That blood, that's hardly in the vein,
Is now remanded back again;
60
Tho' fprung from wine of the fame piece,
And near akin, within degrees,
Strives to commit affaffinations
On its own natural relations;
And thofe twin-fpirits, fo kind-hearted,
That from their friends fo lately parted,
No fooner feveral ways are gone,
But by themfelves are fet upon,
Surpris'd like brother againſt brother,
And put to th' fword by one another:
So much more fierce are civil wars,
Than thoſe between mere foreigners;
63
70
UPON DRUNKENNESS.
XXX
And man himſelf, with wine poffeft,
More ſavage than the wildeſt beaſt.
For ferpents, when they meet to water,
Lay by their poiſon and their nature;
75
And fierceft creatures, that repair,
In thirſty deferts, to their rare
And diftant rivers' banks to drink,
In love and cloſe alliance link,
And from their mixture of ftrange feeds
Produce new, never-heard-of breeds,
To whom the fiercer unicorn
Begins a large health with his horn;
As cuckolds put their antidotes,
When they drink coffee, into th' pots:
While man, with raging drink inflam'd,
Is far more favage and untam'd;
Supplies his lofs of wit and fenfe
With barb'roufnefs and infolence;
Believes himſelf, the leſs he's able,
The more heroick and formidable;
Lays by his reafon in his bowls,
As Turks are faid to do their fouls,
Until it has fo often been
Shut out of its lodging, and let in,
At length it never can attain
To find the right way back again;
Drinks all his time away, and prunes
The end of's life as vignerons
80
85
90
95
ICO
Kij
UPON MARRIAGE,
Cut fhort the branches of a vine,
To make it bear more plenty o' wine;
And that which Nature did intend
T'enlarge his life, perverts t' its end.
So Noah, when he anchor'd ſafe on
The mountain's top, his lofty haven,
And all the paffengers he bore
Were on the new world fet afhore,
He made it next his chief defign
105
To plant and propagate a vine,
110
Which fince has overwhelm'd and drown'd
Far greater numbers, on dry ground,
Of wretched mankind, one by one,
Than all the flood before had done.
SUREL
SATIRE
UPON MARRIAGE.
URE marriages were never fo well fitted,
As when to matrimony' men were committed,
Like thieves by juftices, and to a wife
Bound, like to good behaviour, during life:
For then 't was but a civil contract made
Between two partners that fet up a trade;
And if both fail'd, there was no confcience
Nor faith invaded in the ftri&teft fenfe;
114
No canon of the church, nor vow, was broke
When men did free their gail'd necks from the yoke;
UPON MARRIAGE.
113
But when they tir'd, like other horned beaſts,
Might have it taken off, and take their refts,
Without b'ing bound in duty to fhew caufe,
Or reckon with divine or human laws.
For fince, what ufe of matrimony' has been
But to make gallantry a greater fin?
As if there were no appetite nor guſt,
Below adultery, in modiſh luft;
Or no debauchery were exquifite,
Until it has attain'd its perfect height.
For men do now take wives to nobler ends,
Not to bear children, but to hear 'em friends,
Whom nothing can oblige at fuch a rate
As thefe endearing offices of late.
For men are now grown wife and underſtand
How to improve their crimes as well as land;
And if they've iffue, make the infants pay
Down for their own begetting on the day,
The charges of the goffiping difburſe,
II
15
20
20
25
And pay beforehand (ere they are born) the nurfe; 30
As he that got a monſter on a cow,
Out of deſign of fetting up a ſhow.
For why fhould not the brats for all account,
As well as for the chrift'ning at the fount,
When thoſe that ſtand for them lay down the rate 33
O' th' banquet and the prieſt in ſpoons and plate?
The ancient Romans made the ſtate allow
For getting all men's children above two;
Kiij
ITA
UPON MARRIAGE.
Then marry'd men, to propagate the breed,
Had great rewards for what they never did,
Were privileg'd, and highly honour'd too,
For owning what their friends were fain to do;
For fo they 'ad children, they regarded not
By whom (good men) or how they were begot.
To borrow wives (like money) or to lend,
Was then the civil office of a friend,
And he that made a ſcruple in the caſe
Was held a miferable wretch and baſe:
For when they 'ad children by 'em, th' honeft men
Return'd'em to their huſbands back agen.
Then for th' encouragement and propagation
Of fuch a great concernment to the nation,
All people were fo full of complacence,
And civil duty to the publick ſenſe,
They had no name t' expreís a cuckold then,
But that which fignify'd all marry'd men;
Nor was the thing accounted a diſgrace,
Unleſs among the dirty populace,
40
45
50
55
And no man underſtands on what account
Lefs civil nations after hit upon't:
60
For to be known a cuckold can be no
Dishonour but to him that thinks it fo;
For if he feel no chagrin or remorse,
His forehead's fhot free, and he's ne'er the worfe:
For horns (like horny calloufes) are found
65
To grow on fculls that have receiv'd a wound
FON MARRIAGE.
115
Are crackt, and broken; not at all on thofe
That are invulnerate and free from blows.
What a brave time had cuckold-makers then,
When they were held the worthieft of men,
The real fathers of the commonwealth,
That planted colonies in Rome itfelf?
When he that help'd his neighbours, and begot
Moft Romans, was the nobleit patriot?
For if a brave man, that preferv'd from death
One citizen was honour'd with a wreath,
He that more gallantly got three or four,
In reafon muſt deſerve a great deal more.
Then if thofe glorious worthies of old Rome,
That civiliz'd the world they'd overcome,
70
75
80
And taught it laws and learning, found this way
The bot to fave their empire from decay,
Why fhould not theſe that borrow all the worth
They have from them not take this leffon forth,
Get children, friends, and honour too, and money, 85
By prudent managing of matrimony?
For if 'tis hon'rable by all confeit,
Adult'ry muft be worshipful at leaft,
90
And thefe times great, when private men are come
Up to the height and politick of Rome.
All by-blows were not only freeborn then,
But, like John Lilburn, free-begotten men;
Had equal right and privilege with theſe
That claim by title right of the four feas:
118
UPON MARRIAGE.
For being in marriage born, it matters not
After what liturgy they were begot ;
And if there be a difference, they have
Th' advantage of the chance in proving brave,
By b'ing engender'd with more life and force
Than thoſe begotten the dull way of courſe.
The Chincfe place all piety and zeal
In ferving with their wives the commonweal;
Fix all their hopes of merit and falvation
Upon their women's fupererogation;
95
ICO
With folemn vows their wives and daughters bind,
Like Eve in Paradife, to all mankind;
And thoſe that can produce the moſt gallants,
106
Are held the preciouſeſt of all their faints :
Wear rofaries about their necks, to con
Their exercife of devotion on;
That ferve them for certificates, to fhow
With what vaſt numbers they have had to do :
Before they're marry'd make a confcience
"omit no duty of incontinence;
And ſhe that has been oft'neft proftituted,
worthy of the greateſt match reputed.
ut when the conqu'ring Tartar went about
'o root this orthodox religion out,
hey ſtood for confcience, and refolv'd to die,
ather than change the ancient purity
f that religion which their anceſtors
nd they had profper'd in fo many years;
110
115
I 20
UPON PLAGIARIES.
117
Vow'd to their gods to facrifice their lives,
And die their daughters martyrs and their wives,
Before they would commit fo great a fin
Againſt the faith they had been bred up in.
SATIRE
UPON PLAGIARIES
WHY fhou'd the world be fo averſe
To plagiary privateers,
That all men's fenfe and fancy feize,
And make free prize of what they pleaſe?
As if, because they huff and fwell,
Like pilf 'rers, full of what they ſteal,
Others might equal pow'r affume,
Το o pay 'er with as hard a door;
To fhut them up, like beafts in pounds,
For breaking into others' grounds;
Mark 'em with characters and brands,
Like other forgers of men's hands,
126
ΙΟ
It is not improbable but that Eutler, in this Satire, or
fneering apology for the plagiary, obliquely hints at Sir John
Denham, whom he has directly attacked in a preceding poem.
Butler was not pleaſed with the two firſt lines of this com-
pofition, as appears by his altering them in the margin, thus:
Why fhou'd the world be ſo fevere
To every fmall-wit privateer?
And indeed the alteration is much for the better; but as it
would not connect grammatically with what follows, I did
not think proper to adopt it.
118
UPON PLAGIARIES.
And in effigy hang and draw
The poor delinquents by clublaw,
When no indictment juftly lies,
But where the theft will bear a price.
For tho' wit never can be learn'd,
It may b' affum'd, and own'd, and earn'd,
And, like our nobleft fruits, improv'd,
By b'ing transplanted and remov'd;
And as it bears no certain rate,
Nor pays one penny to the ftate,
15
20
With which it turns no more t' account
Than virtue, faith, and merit 's wont,
25
Is neither moveable, nor rent,
Nor chattel, goods, nor tenement,
Nor was it ever paſs'd b' entail,
Nor fettled upon the heirs-male;
Or if it were, like ill-got land,
Did never fall to a ſecond-hand ;
30
So 't is no more to be engroſs'd,
Than funfhine or the air enclos'd,
Or to propriety confin'd,
Than th' uncontroll'd and fcatter'd wind.
For why fhou'd that which Nature meant
35
To owe its being to its vent,
That has no value of its own,
But as it is divulg'd and known,
Is perishable and deſtroy'd,
As long as it lies unenjoy'd,
40
UPON PLAGIARIES.
119
Be fcanted of that lib'ral ufe,
Which all mankind is free to chufe,
And idly hoarded where 't was bred,
Inſtead of being difpers'd and ſpread?
And the more laviſh and profuſe,
"Tis of the nobler general ufe;
As riots, tho' fupply'd by ftealth,
Are wholefome to the commonwealth,
And men fpend freelier what they win
Than what they've freely coming in.
The world's as full of curious wit
Which thoſe that father never writ,
As 't is of baftards, which the fot
And cuckold owns that ne'er begot ;
Yet pafs as well as if the one
And th' other by-blow were their own.
For why ſhould he that's impotent
To judge, and fancy, and invent,
For that impediment be ſtopt
To own, and challenge, and adopt,
At leaſt th' expos'd and fatherlefs
Poor orphans of the pen and prefs,
Whoſe parents are obfcure or dead,
Or in far countries born and bred?
As none but kings have pow'r to raiſe
A levy, which the ſubject pays,
And tho' they call that tax a loan,
Yet when 'tis gather'd 't is their own;
45
55
60
65
Ito
UPON PLAGIARIES.
So he that's able to impofe
A wit-excife on verfe or profe,
And fill the abler authors are,
Can make them pay the greater ſhare,
Is prince of poets of his time,
And they his vaffals that fupply' him;
Can judge more juftly' of what he takes
Than any of the beſt he makes,
And more impartially conceive
What's fit to chufe, and what to leave.
For men reflect more ſtrictly' upon
The fenfe of others than their own;
And wit, that's made of wit and flight,
Is richer than the plain downright:
As falt that's made of falt's more fine
Than when it firſt came from the brine;
And fpirits of a nobler nature
Drawn from the dull ingredient matter.
Hence mighty Virgil's faid, of old,
From dung to have extracted gold,
(As many a lout and filly clown
By his inftructions fince has done)
And grew more lofty by that means,
Than by his livery-oats and beans,
When from his carts and country
He rofe a mighty man at arms,
To whom th' Heroicks ever fince
Have fworn allegiance as their prince,
I
farms
70
80
% =
ૐ
95
སན་
UPON PLAGIARIES.
121
And faithfully have in all times.
Obferv'd his cuftoms in their rhymes.
"Twas counted learning once, and wit,
To void but what fome author writ,
100
And what men underſtood by rote,
By as implicit fenfe to quote:
Then many a magifterial clerk
Was taught, like finging birds, i' th' dark,
And underſtood as much of things
As the ableft blackbird what it fings;
And yet was honour'd and renown'd
For grave, and folid, and profound.
Then why shou'd thoſe who pick and chuſe
The best of all the best compofe,
And join it by Moſaick art,
In graceful order, part to part,
To make the whole in beauty fuit,
Not merit as complete repute
105
As thofe who with lefs art and pains
115
Can do it with their native brains,
And make the homeſpun bus'neis fit
As freely with their mother wit,
Since what by Nature was deny'd
By art and induſtry 's fupply'd,
Both which are more our own, and brave
Than all the alms that Nature gave?
For what w' acquire by pains and art
Is only due t'our own defert;
Volume 111.
L
ILO
#22
UPON PLAGIARIES,
While all th' endowments fhe confers
125
Are not fo much our own as her's,
That, like good fortune, unawares
Fall not t' our virtue, but our fhares,
And all we can pretend to merit
We do not purchaſe, but inherit.
Thus all the great'ft inventions, when
They firſt were found out, were fo mean,
That th' authors of them are unknown,
As little things they fcorn'd to own;
Until by men of nobler thought
'Th' were to their full perfection brought.
This proves that Wit does but rough-hew,
Leaves Art to polifh and review,
And that a wit at fecond-hand
Has greatest int'reft and command;
For to improve, difpofe, and judge,
Is nobler than t'invent and drudge.
Invention 's humorous and nice,
And never at command applies;
Difdains t' obey the proudeft wit,
Unlefs it chance to b' in the fit;
(Like prophecy, that can prefage
Succeffes of the lateſt age,
133
125
140
143
Yet is not able to tell when
It next fhall prophefy agen)
150
Makes all her fuitors courſe and wait
Like a proud minifter of fate,
UPON PLAGIARIES.
123
And, when the 's ferious, in fome freak,
Extravagant, and vain, and weak,
Attend her filly lazy pleaſure,
Until the chance to be at leifure;
753
When 't is more eafy to ſteal wit,
To clip, and forge, and counterfeit,
Is both the bus'nefs and delight,
Like hunting-fports, of thofe that write;
For thievery is but one fort,
The learned fay, of hunting ſport.
Hence 'tis that fome, who ſet up
As raw, and wretched, and unverft,
And open'd with a ſtock as poor
As a healthy beggar with one fore;
That never writ in profe or verſe,
frfe
But pick'd, or cut it, like a purſe,
And at the beft could but commit
The petty larceny of wit,
To whom to write was to purloin,
And printing but to ftamp falfe coin:
Yet after long and furdy' endeavours
Of being painful wit-receivers,
With gath'ring rags and fcraps of wit,
As paper's made on which 't is writ,
Have gone forth authors, and acquir'd
The right or wrong to be admir'd,
And, arm'd with confidence, incurr'd
The fool's good luck, to be preferr'd.
16C
165
170
175
180
Lij
124 UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING.
For as a banker can difpofe
Of greater fums he only owes,
Than he who honeftly is known
To deal in nothing but his own,
So whofoe'er can take up moft,
May greateft fame and credit boat.
SATIRE,
IN TWO PARTS.
Upon the imperfection and abufe of
HUMAN LEARNING*.
PART 1.
Ir is the nobleft act of human reafon
T
To free itſelf from flavish prepoffeffion,
186
In the large General Dictionary, or Bayle's, enlarged
by Mr. Bernard, Birch, and Lockman, we are told by the
learned editors, under the article Hudibras, that they were
perfonally informed by the late Mr. Longueville-Thrat a-
mongst the genuine remains of Putler, which were in his
hands, there was a poem, entitled The History of Learning.--
To the fame purpofe is the following paffage, cited from The
Poetical Regifter, vol. II. p. 21." In juftice to the publick,
"it is thought proper to déclare, that all the manufcripts
"Mr. Butler left behind him are now in the cuſtody of Mr.
Longueville, (among which is one, entitled The Hiftory of
"Learning, written after the manner of Hudibras) and that
"not one line of thofe poems lately publiſhed under his name
" is genuine."
<
As thefe authorities muſt have given the world reaſon to
expect, in this Work, a poem of this fort, it becomes neceffa-
ry for me to inform the publick-that Butler did meditate a
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 125
Alame the legal right to difengage
From all it had contracted under age,
And not its ingenuity and wit
To all it was imbu'd with firſt ſubmit;
Take true or falfe for better or for worſe,
To have or t' hold indiff'rently of courſe.
For Cuftom, tho' but uſher of the ſchool
Where Nature breeds the body and the ſoul,
Ufurps a greater pow'r and intereft
O'er man the heir of Reafon, than brute beaſt,
5
10
pretty long fatire upon the imperfection and abufe of Human
Learning, but that he only finished this firtt part of it, though
he has left very confiderable and interefting fragments of the
remainder, fome of which 1 fhall fubjom.
The Poet's plan feems to have confifted of two parts; the
firit, which he has executed, is to expoſe the defects of hu-
man learning, from the wrong methods of education, from
the natural imperfection of the human mind, and from that
over-eagernefs of men to know things above the reach of
human capacity.-The fecond, as far as one can judge by the
Remains, and intended parts of it, was to have exemplified
what he has afferted in the firft, and ridiculed and ſatirized
the different branches of human learning, in characterizing
the philofopher, critick, orator, E'.
Mr. Longueville might be led by this into the miſtake of
calling this work A Hiſtory of Learning; or, perhaps, it might
arife from Butler's having, in one plan, which he afterwards
altered, begun with theſe two lines,
The Hifiory of Learning is fo lame,
That few can tell from whence at fir it care,
What has been faid will, I Hatter myfelf, be a fufficient apo-
logy for the printing an imperfect work, if the many good.
things to be met with in it does not make one unnecefiary.--
However, for this reafon, I did not think fit to place it amongst
is other Satires, which are perfect in their different ways.
Lij
126 UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING.
That by two different inftincts is led,
Born to the one, and to the other bred,
And trains him up with rudiments more falfe
Than Nature does her ftupid animals;
And that's one reaſon why more care's beſtow'd
Upon the body than the foul's allow'd,
That is not found to underftand and know
So fubtly as the body's found to grow.
Tho' children without ftudy, pains, or thought,
Are languages and vulgar notions taught,
Improve their nat 'ral talents without care,
And apprehend before they are aware,
Yet as all ftrangers never leave the tones
They have been us'd of children to pronounce,
So moft men's reafon never can outgrow
The difcipline it first receiv'd to know,
But renders words they firft began to con,
The end of all that's after to be known,
15
20
as
30
And fets the help of education back,
Worfe than, without it, man could ever lack;
Who, therefore, finds the artificiall'ft fools
Have not been chang'd i' th' cradle, but the fchools,
Where errour, pedantry, and affectation,
Run them behindhand with their education,
And all alike are taught poetick rage,
While hardly one's fit for it in an age.
No fooner are the organs of the brain
Quick to receive, and ftedfaft to retain
35
40
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 127
Beft knowledges, but all's laid out upon
Retrieving of the curfe of Babylon,
To make confounded languages reſtore
A greater drudg'ry than it barr'd before :
And therefore thofe imported from the Eaſt,
45
Where firſt they were incurr'd, are held the beſt,
Altho' convey'd in worſe Arabian pothooks
Than gifted tradeſmen ſcratch in fermon notebooks;
Are really but pains and labour loſt,
And not worth half the drudgery they cost,
Unlefs, like rarities, as they 've been brought
From foreign climates, and as dearly bought,
When thoſe who had no other but their own,
Have all fucceeding eloquence outdone;
As men that wink with one eye fee more true,
And take their aim much better than with two:
50
55
For the more languages a man can ſpeak,
His talent has but fprung the greater leak;
60
And, for th' induftry he has ſpent upon 't,
Muft full as much fome other way diſcount.
The Hebrew, Chaldee, and the Syriack,
Do, like their letters, fet men's reaſon back,
And turns their wits, that ftrive to underſtand it,
(Like thofe that write the characters) left-handed;
Yet he that is but able to exprefs
No fenfe at all in feveral languages,
Will pafs for learneder than he that's known
To ſpeak the ſtrongeſt reafon in his own.
4
128 UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING,
Theſe are the modern arts of education,
With all the learned of mankind in faſhion,
But practis'd only with the rod and whip,
As riding-fchools inculcate horfemanſhip;
Or Romish penitents let out their ſkins,
To bear the penalties of others' fins.
70
When letters, at the firft, were meant for play,
75
And only us'd to paſs the time away,
When th' ancient Greeks and Romans had no name
T'exprefs a ſchool and playhouſe but the fame,
And in their languages, fo long agone,
To ftudy or be idle was all one;
80
For nothing more preferves men in their wits
Than giving of them leave to play by fits,
In dreams to ſport, and ramble with all fancies,
And waking, little lefs extravagances,
The reft and recreation of tir'd thought,
85
When 't is run down with care and overwrought,
Of which whoever does not freely take
His conftant fhare, is never broad awake,
And when he wants an equal competence
Of both recruits, abates as much of ſenſe.
Nor is their education worfe defign'd
Than Nature (in her province) proves unkind:
The greateſt inclinations with the leaſt
Capacities are fatally poffeft,
Condemn'd to drudge, and labour, and take pains,
Without an equal competence of brains;
༡༠
96
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 129
ICO
105
While thoſe ſhe has indulg'd in foul and body,,
Are moſt averfe to induſtry and ſtudy,
And th' activ'ſt fancies fhare as looſe alloys,
For want of equal weight to counterpoife.
But when thofe great conveniencies meet,
Of equal judgment, induſtry, and wit,
The one but ſtrives the other to divert,
While Fate and Cuſtom in the feud take part,
And ſcholars by prepoft'rous overdoing,
And under-judging, all their proje&s ruin;
Who, tho' the underſtanding of mankind
Within fo ftrait a compafs is confin'd,
Difdain the limits Nature fets to bound
The wit of man, and vainly rove beyond.
The braveft foldiers fcorn, until they're got
Cloſe to the enemy, to make a fhot;
Yet great philofophers delight to fretch
Their talents most at things beyond their reach,
And proudly think t' unriddle ev'ry caufe
That Nature ufes, by their own by-laws;
When 't is not only' impertinent, but rude,
Where the denies admiffion, to intrude;
And all their induftry is but to err,
Unless they have free quarantine from her;
Whence 'tis the world the lefs has understood,
By ſtriving to know more than 't is allow'd.
For Adam, with the lofs of Paradiſe,
Bought knowledge at too defperate a price,
110
113
120
13 UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING,
And ever fince that miferable fate
Learning did never coft an eaſier rate;
125
For tho' the moſt divine and fov'reign good
That Nature has upon mankind beſtow'd,
Yet it has prov'd a greater hinderance
To th' intereft of truth than ignorance,
And therefore never bore fo high a value
As when 't was low, contemptible, and fullow;
Had academies, ſchools, and colleges,
180
Endow'd for its improvement and increafe;
With pomp and fhew was introduc'd with maces, 135
More than a Roman magiftrate had fafces;
Empower'd with statute, privilege and mandate,
'I'' affume an art, and after understand it;
Like bills of ſtore for taking a degree,
With all the learning to it cuſtom-free;
And own profeffions which they never took
So much delight in as to read one book :
Like princes, had prerogative to give
Convicted malefactors a reprieve;
And having but a little paltry wit
More than the world, reduc'd and govern'd it,
But fcorn'd, as foon as 't was but underſtood,
As better is a fpiteful foe to good,
And now has nothing left for its ſupport
But what the darkeſt times provided for 't.
Man has a natural defire to know,
But th' one half is for int'reft, th' other fhow :
140
145
150
UPON THE ARUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING 137
As fcriv'ners take more pains to learn the fleight
Of making knots than all the hands they write :
So all his ftudy is not to extend
The bounds of knowledge, but fome vainer end;
T'appear and pafs for learned, tho' his claim
Will hardly reach beyond the empty name :
For moft of thofe that drudge and labour hard,
Furnifh their underſtandings by the yard,
As a French library by the whole is,
So much an ell for quartos and for folios;
To which they are but indexes themselves,
And underſtand no further than the fhelves;
But fmatter with their titles and editions,
And place them in their Claffical partitions;
When all a ftudent knows of what he reads
Is not in 's own, but under general heads
Of common-places, not in his own pow'r,
But, like a Dutchman's money, i' th' cantere,
Where all he can make of it, at the beft,
Is hardly three per cent. for intereſt;
And whether he will ever get it out
Into his own poffeffion is a doubt:
1:3
160
103
170
Affe&s all books of paſt and modern ages,
175
But reads no further than the title-pages,
Only to con the authors' names by rote,
Or, at the beft, thofe of the books they quote,
Enough to challenge intimate acquaintance
With all the learned Moderns and the Ancients. 180
132
FRAGMENTS.
As Roman noblemen were wont to greet,
And compliment the rabble in the ſtreet,
Had nomenclators in their trains, to claim.
Acquaintance with the meaneft by his name,
And by fo mean contemptible a bribe
Trepann'd the fuffrages of ev'ry tribe;
185
So learned men, by authors' names unknown,
Have gain'd no fmall improvement to their own,
And he's eftcem'd the learned'ft of all others
That has the largeſt catalogue of authors.
FRAGMENTS
190
OF AN INTENDED
SECOND PART
OF THE FOREGOING
SATIRE.
MEN's talents grow more bold and confident,
The further they're beyond their juft extent,
Theſe Fragments were fairly wrote out, and ſeveral times,
with fome little variations, tranfcribed by Butler, but never
connected, or reduced into any regular form. They may be
confidered as the principal parts of a curious edifice, each fe-
parately finished, but not united into one general defign.
From theſe the reader may form a notion and tolerable idea
of our Author's intended ſcheme; and will, I doubt not, re-
gret, with me, that he did not apply himfelf to the finishing of
a fatire fo well fuited to his judgment and particular turn
of wit.
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 133
As fmatt'rers prove more arrogant and pert,
The lefs they truly underſtand an art;
And, where they 've leaſt capacity to doubt,
Are wont t' appear moſt perempt'ry and out;
While thofe that know the mathematick lines
Where Nature all the wit of man confines,
And when it keeps within its bounds, and where
It acts beyond the limits of its ſphere,
Enjoy an abfoluter free command
O'er all they have a right to underſtand,
Than thofe that falfely venture to encroach
Where Nature has deny`d them all approach;
And ſtill the more they ſtrive to underſtand,
Like great eftates, run furtheft behindhand;
Will undertake the univerfe to fathom,
From infinite down to a ſingle atoni;
Without a geometrick inftrument,
To take their own capacity's extent;
Can tell as eafy how the world was made,
As if they had been brought up to the trade,
And whether Chance, Neceflity, or Matter,
Contriv'd the whole eſtabliſhment of Nature;
IQ
15
20
It may be thought perhaps that fome parts of it ought to
have been illuftrated with notes; but as the printing an im-
perfect work may be judged, by ſome readers of great delica-
cy, a fort of intrufion upon the publick, I did not care to en-
hance the objection by clogging it with additional obferva-
tions of my own.
Volume III.
M
134
FRAGMENTS
When all their wits to understand the world
Can never tell why a pig's tail is curl'd,
Or give a rational account why fiſh,
That always ufe to drink, do never piſs.
WHAT mad fantaftick gambols have been play'd
By th' ancient Greek forefathers of the trade,
That were not much inferiour to the freaks
Of all our lunatick fanatick fects?
The first and beft philofopher of Athens
25
30
Was crack'd, and ran ftark-ftaring mad with patience,
And had no other way to fhew his wit
35
But when his wife was in her ſcolding fit;
Was after in the Pagan inquifition,
And fuffer'd martyrdom for no religion.
Next him, his ſcholar ftriving to expel
All poets his poetick commonweal,
Exil'd himself, and all his followers,
Notorious poets, only bating verſe.
The Stagyrite, unable to expound
The Euripus, leapt into 't, and was drown'd;
So he that put his eyes out, to confider
And contemplate on nat'ral things the ſteadier,
Did but himself for idiot convince,
Tho' rev'renc'd by the learned ever fince.
Empedocles, to be eſteem'd a god,
Leapt into Etna, with his fandals fhod,
40
45
So
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 135
That b'ing blown out, diſcover'd what an afs
The great philofopher and juggler was,
That to his own new deity facrific'd,
And was himſelf the victim and the prieſt.
The Cynick coin'd falſe money, and for fear
Of being hang'd for 't, turn'd philofopher;
Yet with his lantern went, by day, to find
One honeft man i' th' heap of all mankind;
An idle freak he needed not have done
If he had known himſelf to be but one,
With fwarms of maggots of the felf-fame rate,
The learned of all ages celebrate
35
60
65
Things that are properer for Knightsbridge college,
Than th' authors and originals of knowledge;
More fottiſh than the two fanaticks, trying
To mend the world by laughing, or by crying;
Or he that laugh'd until he chok'd his whiſtle,
To rally on an aſs that ate a thiſtle;
That th' antique fage, that was gallant t' a goofe,
A fitter miſtreſs could not pick and chufe,
Whofe tempers, inclinations, fenfe, and wit,
Like two indentures, did agree fo fit.
THE ancient fcepticks conftantly deny'd
70
What they maintain'd, and thought they juſtify'd;
For when th' affirm'd that nothing 's to be known,
They did but what they ſaid before difown;
76
Mij
136
FRAGMENTS
And, like Polemicks of the Poft, pronounce
The fame thing to be true and falfe at once.
Thefe follies had fuch influence on the rabble,
As to engage them in perpetual fquabble;
Divided Rome and Athens into clans
Of ignorant mechanick partifans;
That, to maintain their own hypothefes,
Broke one another's blockheads, and the peace ;
Were often fet by officers i' th' fſtocks
For quarrelling about a paradox:
80
85
[ftools,
90
When pudding-wives were lanch'd in cockquean
For falling foul on oyfterwomen's ſchools,
No herb-woman fold cabbages or onions,
But to their gollips of their own opinions,
A Peripatetick cobler fcorn'd to foal
A pair of fhoes of any other ſchool;
And porters of the judgment of the Stoicks,
To go an errand of the Cyrenaicks;
That us'd t' encounter in athletick lifts,
95
With beard to beard, and teeth and nails to fiſts,
Like modern kicks and cuffs among the youth
Of academicks, to maintain the truth.
But in the boldeſt feats of arms the Stoick
And Epicureans were the moſt heroick,
That ftoutly ventur'd breaking of their necks,
To vindicate the int'refts of their fects,
And ftill behav'd themſelves as refolute
In waging cuffs and bruifes as difpute,
100
E
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 137
Until with wounds and bruiſes which th' had got,
Some hundreds were kill'd dead upon the fpot; 106
When all their quarrels, rightly underſtood,
Were but to prove difputes the fov'reign good.
DISTINCTIONS, that had been at firſt defign'd
To regulate the errours of the mind,
By b'ing too nicely overftrain'd and vext,
Have made the comment harder than the text,
And do not now, like carving, hit the joint,
But break the bones in pieces of a point,
And with impertinent evafions force
The cleareft reafon from its native courfe-
That argue things s' uncertain, 't is no matter
Whether they are, or never were in nature;
110
115
And venture to demonftrate, when they 've flurr'd,
And palm'd a fallacy upon a word.
For difputants (as fwordsmen uſe to fence
With blunted foyles) engage with blunted fenfe;
And as they're wont to falfify a blow,
120
Ufe nothing elfe to pafs upon the foe,
Or, if they venture further to attack,
Like bowlers, ftrive to beat away the jack;
125
And, when they find themfelves too hardly preft on,
Prevaricate, and change the ftate o' th' queft'on,
The nobleft fcience of defence and art
In practice now with all that controvert,
130
Mij
138
FRAGMENTS
And th' only mode of prizes from Bear-garden
Down to the ſchools, in giving blows, or warding.
As old knights-errant in their harneſs fought
As fafe as in a caſtle or redoubt,
Gave one another defperate attacks,
To ſtorm the counterfcarps upon their backs;
So difputants advance, and poft their arms,
To form the works of one another's terms;
Fall foul on fome extravagant expreffion,
But ne'er attempt the main defign and reafon-
So fome polemicks uſe to draw their ſwords
Against the language only and the words;
As he who fought at barriers with Salmafius,
Engag'd with nothing but his ſtyle and phraſes,
Wav'd to affert the murder of a prince,
135
141
445
The author of falfe Latin to convince;
But laid the merits of the cauſe afide,
By thofe that underſtood them to be try'd;
And counted breaking Prifcian's head a thing
More capital than to behead a king,
For which he 'as been admir'd by all the learn'd
Of knaves concern'd, and pedants unconcern'd.
JUDGMENT is but a curious pair of ſcales,
150
That turns with th' hundredth part of true or falſe,
And ſtill the more 't is us'd is wont t' abate
The fubtlety and nicenefs of its weight,
155
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 139
Until 't is falfe, and will not rife, nor fall,
Like thofe that are lefs artificial;
And therefore ſtudents, in their ways of judging,
Are fain to fwallow many a fenfelefs gudgeon,
And by their over-understanding lofe
Its active faculty with too much ufe;
For reafon, when too curioufly 't is fpun,
Is but the next of all remov'd from none-
It is Opinion governs all mankind,
As wifely as the blind that leads the blind:
For as thofe furnames are fleem'd the beſt
That fignify in all things elfe the leaſt,
So men país faireft in the world's opinion
That have the leaft of truth and reafon in 'em.
Truth would undo the world, if it poffeft
The meaneft of its right and intereft;
Is but a tit'lar princefs, whofe authority
Is always under age, and in minority;
Has all things done and carry'd in its name,
But most of all where it can lay no claim ;
As far from gayety and complaifance,
161
165
170
125
As greatnefs, infolence, and ignorance;
And therefore has furrend'red her dominion
O'er all mankind to barbarous Opinion,
180
That in her right ufurps the tyrannies
And arbitrary government of lies-
As no tricks on the rope but thoſe that break,
Or come moft near to breaking of a neck,
140
FRAGMENTS
Are worth the fight, ſo nothing goes for wit
But nonfenfe, or the next of all to it:
For nonfenfe being neither falfe nor true,
A little wit to any thing may ſcrew;
186
And, when it has a while been us'd, of courſe
Will ftand as well in virtue, pow'r, and force, 190
And paſs for fenfe t' all purpoſes as good
As if it had at firſt been underſtood:
For nonſenſe has the ampleft privileges,
And more than all the ſtrongeſt ſenſe obliges,
That furniſhes the fchools with terms of art,
The myſteries of fcience to impart;
195
Supplies all feminaries with recruits
Of endless controverfies and difputes;
For learned nonfenfe has a deeper found
Than eaſy fenfe, and goes for more profound.
FOR all our learned authors now compile
At charge of nothing but the words and ſtyle,
And the moſt curious criticks or the learned
Believe themſelves in nothing elfe concerned;
For as it is the garniture and dreſs
That all things wear in books and languages,
(And all men's qualities are wont t' appear
According to the habits that they wear)
'Tis probable to be the trueft teft
Of all the ingenuity, o' th' reft.
200
205
210
UFON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 141
215
220
The lives of trees lie only in the barks,
And in their ſtyles the wit of greateſt clerks;
Hence 't was the ancient Roman politicians
Went to the ſchools of foreign rhetoricians,
To learn the art of patrons, in defence
Of int'reft and their clients' eloquence;
When confuls, cenfors, fenators, and prætors,
With great dictators, us'd t' apply to rhetors,
To hear the greater magiftrate o' th' ſchool
Give fentence in his haughty chair-curule,
And thoſe who mighty nations overcame,
Were fain to ſay their leffons, and declame.
Words are but pictures, true or falſe defign'd,
To draw the lines and features of the mind;
The characters and artificial draughts,
T'exprefs the inward images of thoughts;
And artifts fay a picture may be good,
Altho' the moral be not underflood;
Whence fome infer they may admire a ſtyle,
'Tho' all the reft be e'er fo mean and vile;
Applaud th' outfides of words, but never mind
With what fantaſtick tawdry they are lin'd.
So orators, enchanted with the twang
Of their own trillos, take delight t' harangue;
Whofe fcience, like a juggler's box and balls,
Conveys and counterchanges true and falſe;
Cafts miſts before an audience's eyes,
To pafs the one for th' other in difguife;
225
230
235
142
FRAGMENTS
And, like a morrice dancer drefs'd with bells,
Only to ferve for noiſe and nothing elſe,
240
Such as a carrier makes his cattle wear,
And hangs for pendents in a horſe's ear;
For if the language will but bear the teft,
No matter what becomes of all the reft:
The ableft orator, to fave a word,
245
Would throw all fenfe and reafon overboard.
Hence 't is that nothing elſe but eloquence
Is ty'd to fuch a prodigal expenfe;
That lays out half the wit and ſenſe it uſes
Upon the other half's, as vain excufes:
For all defences and apologies
Are but fpecificks t' other frauds and lies;
And th' artificial wash of eloquence
250
Is daub'd in vain upon the cleareſt ſenſe,
Only to ſtain the native ingenuity
255
Of equal brevity and perfpicuity,
Whilft all the beſt and ſob'reſt things he does,
Are when he coughs, or fpits, or blows his nofe;
Handles no point fo evident and clear
(Beſides his white gloves) as his handkercher, 260
Unfolds the niceft fcruple fo aiftinct,
As if his talent had been wrapt up in 't
Unthriftily, and now he went about
Henceforward to improve and put it out.
THE
HE pedants are a mongrel breed, that fojourn 265
Among the ancient writers and the modern;
UPON THE ABUSE OF HUMAN LEARNING. 143
And while their ſtudies are between the one
And th' other ſpent, have nothing of their own;
Like fpunges, are both plants and animals,
And equally to both their natures falſe :
For whether 't is their want of converfation
Inclines them to all forts of affectation,
Their fedentary life and melancholy,
The everlaſting nurſery of folly;
270
Their poring upon black and white too fubtly 275
Has turn'd the infides of their brains to motley;
Or ſquand'ring of their wits and time upon
Too many things, has made them fit for none;
Their conftant overſtraining of the mind
Diſtorts the brain, as horfes break their wind; 280
Or rude confufions of the things they read
Get up, like noxious vapours, in the head,
Until they have their conftant wanes, and fulls,
And changes, in the inſides of their fculls;
Or venturing beyond the reach of wit
Has render'd them for all things elfe unfit;
But never bring the world and books together,
And therefore never rightly judge of either;
Whence multitudes of reverend men and criticks
Have got a kind of intellectual rickets,
And by th' immoderate exceſs of ſtudy
Have found the fickly head t' outgrow the body,
For pedantry is but a corn or wart,
Bred in the skin of judgment, fenfe, and art,
285
200
144
FRAGMENTS, ETC.
A ftupify'd excrefcence, like a wen,
Fed by the peccant humours of learn'd men,
That never grows from natural defects
Of downright and untutor'd intellecs,
But from the over-curious and vain
Diftempers of an artificial brain-
So he that once flood for the learned'ſt man,
Had read out little Britain and Duck Lane,
Worn out his reafon, and reduc'd his body
And brain to nothing with perpetual ſtudy;
Kept tutors of all forts, and virtuofis,
To read all authors to him with their gloffes,
295
300
303
And made his lacques, when he walk'd, bear folios
Of dictionaries, lexicons, and fcholias,
To be read to him every way the wind
Should chance to fit, before him or behind; 310
Had read out all th' imaginary duels
That had been fought by confonants and vowels;
Had crackt his fcull, to find out proper places
To lay up all memoirs of things in caſes;
And practis'd all the tricks upon the charts,
To play with packs of fciences and arts,
That ſerve t' improve a feeble gamefter's ftudy,
That ventures at grammatick beaſt or noddy;
Had read out all the catalogues of wares,
315
That come in dry fats o'er from Francfort fairs, 320
Whofe authors ufe t' articulate their furnames
With fcraps of Greek more learned than the Germans;
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 145
Was wont to fcatter books in ev'ry room,
Where they might beft be feen by all that come,
And lay a train that natʼrally ſhould force
What he defign'd, as if it fell of courfe;
325
And all this with a worfe fuccefs than Cardan,
Who bought both books and learning at a bargain,
When lighting on a philofophick ſpell,
Of which he never knew one fyllable,
Prefto, begone, h' unriddled all he read,
As if he had to nothing elfe been bred.
332
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL
NONCONFORMIST.
A PINDARICK ODE
I.
THERE's nothing fo abfurd, or vain,
Or barbarous, or inhumane,
But if it lay the leaft pretence
To piety and godliness,
Or tender-hearted confcience,
And zeal for gofpel-truths profefs
Does facred inftantly commence,
5
* This and the two following compofitions are the only ones
that our Author wrote in this meafure, which fome readers
may perhaps think too grave and folemn for the fubject, and
the turn of Butler's wit. It muſt however be allowed that he
falls nowife thort of his ufual depth and reach of thought,
keenness of fatire, and acutece's of expreffion.
Volume 111.
N
146 UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST.
And all that dare but queſtion it, are ſtrait
Pronounc'd th' uncircumcis'd and reprobate :
As malefactors, that eſcape and fly
Into a fanctuary for defence,
Muſt not be brought to juftice thence,
Altho' their crimes be ne'er fo great and high,
And he that dares prefume to do 't,
Is fentenc'd and deliver'd up
IO
15
To Satan, that engag'd him to 't,
For vent'ring wickedly to put a ſtop
To his immunities and free affairs,
Or meddle faucily with theirs
That are employ'd by him, while he and they
Proceed in a religious and a holy way.
II.
And as the Pagans heretofore
Did their own handiworks adore,
20
And made their ſtone and timber deities,
Their temples and their altars, of one piece,
25
The fame outgoings feem t' inſpire
Our modern felfwill'd Edifier,
That out of things as far from ſenſe, and more,
Contrives new light and revelation,
The creatures of th' imagination,
To worship and fall down before,
Of which his crack'd delufions draw
As monftrous images and rude,
As ever Pagan, to believe in, hew'd,
30
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 147
Or madman in a vifion faw;
Miſtakes the feeble impotence,
And vain delufions of his mind,
For fp'ritual gifts and offerings.
Which Heav'n, to prefent him, brings;
And ftill the further 't is from ſenſe,
Believes it is the more refin'd,
And ought to be receiv'd with greater reverence.
III.
But as all tricks whofe principles
Are falfe, prove falſe in all things elfe,
The dull and heavy hypocrite
Is but in penfion with his confcience,
That pays him for maintaining it
With zealous rage and impudence,
And as the one grows obftinate,
So does the other rich and fat;
Difpofes of his gifts and difpenfations
35
40
45
50
Like fpiritual foundations,
Endow'd to pious uſes, and defign'd
To entertain the weak, the lame, and blind,
But ſtill diverts them to as bad, or worſe,
55
Than others are by unjuſt governours:
For like our modern publicans,
He ftill puts out all dues
He owes to Heav'n to the dev'l to uſe,
And makes his godly intereft great gains;
60
Takes all the Brethren (to recruit
Nij
148 UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST.
The fpirit in him) contribute,
And, to repair and edify his ſpent
And broken winded outward man, preſent
For painful holdingforth againſt the government. 65
IV.
The fubtle ſpider never fpins
But on dark days his flimy gins;
Nor does our engineer much care to plant
His fpiritual machines,
Unleſs among the weak and ignorant,
Th' inconftant, credulous, and light,
70
The vain, the factious, and the flight,
That in their zeal are most extravagant;
For trouts are tickled beft in muddy water;
And ftill the muddier he finds their brains,
75
The more he's fought and follow'd after,
And greater miniftrations gains;
For talking idly is admir'd,
And ſpeaking nonſenſe held inſpir'd;
And fill the flatter and more dull
80
His gifts appear, is held more pow'rful;
For blocks are better cleft with wedges,
'Than tools of fharp and fubtle edges;
And dulleft nonſenſe has been found,
By fome, to be the ſolid'ft and the moſt profound. 85
V.
A great Apoftle once was faid
With too much learning to be mad;
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 149
But our great faint becomes diftract,
And only with too little crackt;
Cries moral truths and human learning down,
90
And will endure no reaſon but his own:
For 't is a drudgery and taik
Not for a Saint, but Pagan oracle,
To answer all men can object or afk;
But to be found impregnable,
9.5
And with a ſturdy forehead to hold out,
In fpight of fhame or reafon refolute,
Is braver than to argue and confute:
As he that can draw blood, they fay,
From witches, takes their magick pow'r away, Ico
So he that draws blood int' a Brother's face,
Takes all his gifts away, and light, and grace:
For while he holds that nothing is ſo damn'd
And fhameful as to be aſham'd,
He never can be attack'd,
But will come off; for Confidence, well back'd,
Among the weak and prepoffefs'd,
105
Has often Truth, with all her kingly pow'r opprefs'd.
VI.
It is the nature of late zeal,
'Iwill not be fubject, nor rebel,
Nor left at large, nor be reſtrain'd,
But where there's fomething to be gain'd;
And that by b'ing once reveal'd, defies
The law, with all its penalties,
N
110
ISO UTON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST.
And is convinc'd no pale
O'th' church can be fo facred as a jail:
115
For as the Indians' priſons are their mines,
So he has found are all reſtraints
To thriving and free-confcienc'd Saints;
For the fame thing enriches that confines;
And like to Lully, when he was in hold,
He turns his bafer metals into gold;
Receives returning and retiring fees
For holding-forth, and holding of his peace,
And takes a penfion to be advocate
And ftanding counfel 'gainft the church and ſtate
For gall'd and tender confciences;
Commits himſelf to prifon to trepan,
Draw in, and ſpirit all he can ;
120
125
For birds in cages have a call
To draw the wildeft into nets,
More prevalent and natural
Than all our artificial pipes and counterfeits.
VII.
His flipp'ry confcience has more tricks
Than all the juggling empiricks,
And ev'ry one another contradicts;
130
135
All laws of heav'n and earth can break,
And ſwallow oaths, and blood, and rapine eaſy,
And yet is fo infirm and weak,
*Twill not endure the gentleft check,
140
But at the ſlighteſt nicety grows queaſy;
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 151
Difdains control, and yet can be
Nowhere, but in a prifon, free;
Can force itſelf, in fpight of God,
Who makes it free as thought at home,
145
A flave and villain to become,
To ferve its interefts abroad:
And tho' no Pharifee was e'er fo cunning
At tithing mint and cummin,
No dull idolater was e'er ſo flat
150
In things of deep and folid weight;
Pretends to charity and holiness,
But is implacable to peace,
And out of tenderness grows obftinate.
And tho' the zeal of God's houſe ate a prince
135
And prophet up (he fays) long fince,
His cross-grain'd peremptory zeal
Would eat up God's houfe, and devour it at a meal.
VIII.
He does not pray, but profecute,
As if he went to law, his fuit;
Summons his Maker to appear
And anſwer what he ſhall prefer;
Returns him back his gift of pray'r,
Not to petition, but declare;
Exhibits croſs complaints
Against him for the breach of Covenants,
And all the charters of the Saints;
160
165
152 UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST,
Pleads guilty to the action, and yet ftands
Upon high terms and bold demands;
Excepts against him and his laws,
And will be judge himſelf in his own caufe;
And grows more faucy and fevere
170
Than th' Heathen emp'rour was to Jupiter,
That us'd to wrangle with him and difpute,
And fometimes would fpeak foftly in his car,
And ſometimes loud, and rant, and tear.
175
And threaten, if he did not grant his fuit.
IX.
But when his painful gifts h' employs
In holding forth, the virtue lies
Not in the letter of the fenfe,
185
But in the fpiritual vehemence,
The pow'r and difpenfation of the voice,
The zealous pangs and agonies,
And heav'nly turnings of the eyes;
The groans with which he piouſly deſtroys,
185
And drowns the nonfenfe in the noife;
And grows fo loud, as if he meant to force
And take in heav'n by violence;
To fright the Saints into falvation,
Or fcare the dev'l from temptation;
Until he falls fo low and hoarſe,
No kind of carnal ſenſe
Can be made out of what he means:
190
UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 153
But as the ancient Pagans were precife
To uſe no fhort-tail'd beaft in facrifice,
He still conforms to them, and has a care
T'allow the largeſt meaſure to his paltry ware.
X.
The ancient churches, and the beſt,
By their own martyrs' blood increaſt;
But he has found out a new way,
To do it with the blood of thofe
That dare his church's growth oppoſe,
Or her imperious canons diſobey,
And ſtrives to carry on the Work,
Like a true primitive reforming Turk,
With holy rage, and edifying war,
More fafe and pow'rful ways by far,
For the Turk's patriarch, Mahomet,
195
200
205
Was the first great Reformer, and the chief
Of th' ancient Chriftian belief,
210
That mix'd it with new light, and cheat,
With revelations, dreams, and viſions.
And apoftolick fuperftitions,
To be held forth and carry'd on by war;
And his fucceffour was a Prefbyter,
With greater right than Haly or Abubeker.
XI.
For as a Turk that is to act fome crime
Againſt his Prophet's holy law
Is wont to bid his foul withdraw,
And leave his body for a time;
215
420
154 UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST.
So when fome horrid action's to be done,
Our Turkiſh profelyte puts on
Another ſpirit, and lays by his own;
And when his overheated brain
Turns giddy, like his brother Muffulman,
He's judg'd infpir'd, and all his frenzies held
To be prophetick, and reveal'd,
The one believes all madmen to be faints,
Which th' other cries him down for and abhors,
225
And yet in madneſs all devotion plants,
230
And where he differs moft concurs;
Both equally exact and juſt
In perjury and breach of truſt;
So like in all things, that one Brother
Is but a counterpart of th' other;
235
And both unanimouſly damn
And hate (like two that play one game)
Each other for it, while they ftrive to do the fame.
XII.
Both equally deſign to raiſe
Their churches by the ſelf-fame ways;
With war and ruin to affert
Their doctrine, and with fword and fire convert;
To preach the goſpel with a drum,
240
And for convincing overcome:
And tho' in worshipping of God all blood
24.5
Was by his own laws difallow'd,
Both hold no holy rites to be fo good,
UPON MODERN CRITICKS.
155
And both to propagate the breed
Of their own Saints one way proceed;
For luft and rapes in war repair as faſt
250
As fury and deftruction wafte:
Both equally allow all crimes
As lawful means to propagate a fect;
For laws in war can be of no effect,
And licenfe does more good in gospel times.
255
Hence 'tis that holy wars have ever been
The horrid'ft fcenes of blood and fin;
For when Religion docs recede
From her own nature, nothing but a breed
Of prodigies and hideous monfters can fucceed. 260
UPON MODERN CRITICKS.
A PINDARICK ODE.
I.
'Tis well that equal Heav'n has plac'd
IS
Thofe joys above that to reward
The juft and virtuous are prepar'd,
Beyond their reach, until their pains are paſt;
Elfe men would rather venture to poffefs
By force, than earn their happineſs;
And only take the dev'l's advice,
As Adam did, how fooneft to be wife,
Tho' at th' expenſe of Paradiſe :
5
156
UPON MODERN CRITICKS.
For, as fome fay, to fight is but a baſe
Mechanick handiwork, and far below
A gen'rous fpirit t' undergo;
So 'tis to take the pains to know,
Which fome, with only confidence and face,
More eaſily and ably do ;
For daring nonfenfe feldom fails to hit,
Like fcatter'd fhot, and paſs with fome for wit.
Who would not rather make himſelf a judge,
And boldly ufurp the chair,
Than with dull induſtry and care
Endure to study, think, and drudge,
For that which he much fooner may advance
With obftinate and pertinacious ignorance?
11.
For all men challenge, tho' in fpight
Of Nature and their ſtars, a right
To cenfure, judge, and know,
Tho' fhe can only order who
IO
35
20
25
Shall be, and who fhall ne'er be wife:
Then why fhould thoſe whom the denies
Her favour and good graces too
30
Not ſtrive to take opinion by furpriſe,
And ravish what it were in vain to woo?
For he that defp'rately affumes
The cenfure of all wits and arts,
Tho' without judgment, fkill, and parts,
33
5
UPON MODERN CRITICKS.
157
Only to ſtartle and amuſe,
And maík his ignorance (as Indians uſe
With gaudy-colour'd plumes
Their homely nether parts t' adorn)
Can never fail to captive fome
That will fubmit to his oraculous doom,
40
And rev'rence what they ought to fcorn,
Admire his furdy confidence
For folid judgment and deep ſenſe;
And credit purchas'd without pains or wit,
Like ftolen pleaſures, ought to be moft fweet.
III.
Two felf-admirers, that combine
Againſt the world, may pafs a fine
45
Upon all judgment, fenfe, and wit,
And fettle it as they think fit
30
On one another like the choice
Of Perfian princes, by one horfe's voice :
For thofe fine pageants which ſome raiſe,
Of falfe and disproportion'd praife,
T' enable whom they pleafe t' appear,
And pafs for what they never were,
In private only b'ing but nam'd,
Their modefty muſt be afham'd,
And not endure to hear,
And yet may be divulg'd and fam'd,
And own'd in publick every where:
Volume 111.
55
6c
158
UPON MODERN CRITTCR2,
So vain fome authors are to boast
Their want of ingenuity, and club
Their affidavit wits, to dub
Each other but a Knight o' the Poft,
As falfe as fuborn'd perjurers,
63
That vouch away all right they have to their own ears.
IV.
But when all other courfes fail,
There is one eafy artifice
That feldom has been known to mifs,
10
To cry all mankind down, and rail :
For he whom all men do contemn,
May be allow'd to rail again at them,
And in his own defence
To outface reafon, wit, and fenfe,
75
And all that makes against himſelf condemn;
To fnarl at all things right or wrong,
Like a mad dog, that has a worm in his tongue;
Reduce all knowledge back of good and evil,
T'its firft original the devil;
80
And, like a fierce inquifitor of wit,
To fpare no fleſh that ever ſpoke or writ;
Tho' to perform his taſk as dull,
As if he had a toadftone in his fcull,
And could produce a greater flock
Of maggots than a paftoral poet's flock.
UPON MUDERN CRITICK 3.·
739
V.
The feebleſt vermine cam deftroy
As fure as ftouteft beafts of prey,
And only with their eyes and breath
Infe and poifon men to death
9
But that more impotent buffoon
That makes it both his hus nefs and his fport
To rail at all, is but a drone
That fpends his fting on what he cannot hurt ;
Enjoys a kind of letchery infpight,
95
Like o'ergrown finners,that in whipping take delight,
Invades the reputation of all thofe
That have, or have it not to loſe;
And if he chance to make a difference,
'Tis always in the wrongeft fenfe:
As rooking gamefters ever lay
Upon thofe hands that ufe fair play,
But venture all their bets
L
ICO
Upon the flurs and cunning tricks of ableft cheats.
Nor does he vex him
V1.
much lets
Than all the world befide,
Falls fick of other awar's exceſt,
is humbled only at their pride,
And wretched at their happineſs;
Revenges on himſelf the wrong
Which his wain malice and loofe tongue
105
I FO
169
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL.
To thofe that feel it not have done,
And whips and fpurs himſelf becauſe he is outgone;
Makes idle characters and tales,
As counterfeit, unlike, and falfe,
As witches' pictures are of wax and clay
To thofe whom they would in effigy flay.
And as the devil, that has no fhape of his own,
Affects to put the uglieft on,
115
And leaves a ftink behind him when he's gone, 120
So he that's worfe than nothing ftrives t' appear
I' th' likenefs of a wolf or bear,
To fright the weak, but when men dare
Encounter with him, ftinks, and vanishes to air. 124
TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF THE
MOST RENOWNED DU-VAL.
'TIS
A PINDARICK ODE *.
I.
Is true, to compliment the dead
Is as impertinent and vain,
As 'twas of old to call them back again,
Or, like the Tartars. give them wives,
With fettlements for after-lives:
For all that can be done or faid,
5
* This Ode, which is only the genuine poem of Butler's,
among the many fpurious ones fathered upon him in what
2
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL.
161
Tho' crefo noble, great, and good,
By them is neither heardner underfood.
All our fine fieights and tricks of art,
Firſt to create, and then adore defert,
And thofe romances which we frame,
To raiſe ourſelves, not them, a name,
In vain are ſtuft with ranting flatteries,
And fuch as, if they knew, they would defpife.
For as thoſe times the Golden Age we call,
In which there was no gold in ufe at all,
So we plant glory and renown
Where it was ne'er defervid nor known,
But to worfe purpoſe, many times,
To flourish o'er nefarious crinies,
15
And cheat the world, that never feems to mind
How good or badmendic, but what they leave behind.
11.
And yet the brave Du-Val, whose name
Can never be worn out by Fame,
"That liv'd and dy'd to leave behind
A great example to mankind,
That fell a publick facrifice,
From ruin to preferve thofe few
Who, tho' born falfe, may be made true,
25
is called his Remains, was published by the Author himfelt,
under his own name, in the year 1671, in three ihcets 4to;
and, agreeable to this, I find it in his own hand-writing among
his manufcripts, with fome little addition, and a few verbal
alterations, as the reader may obſerve, in conrparing it with
the copy already printed.
C iij
162
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL,
And teach the world to be more juft and wife,
Ought not, like vulgar afhes, reſt
Unmention'd in his filent cheft,
Not for his own, but publick intereſt.
He, like a pious man, fome years before
Th' arrival of his fatal hour,
Made ev'ry day he had to live
To his last minute a preparative;
Taught the wild Arabs on the road
To act in a more gentee mode;
Take prizes more obligingly than thoſe
30
35
40
Who never had been bred filous;
And how to hang in a more graceful fashion
Than e'er was known before to the dull English nation.
III.
In France, the ſtaple of new modes,
Where garbs and miens are current goods,
That ferves the ruder northern nations
With methods of addreſs and treat,
Prefcribes new garnitures and faſhions,
And how to drink and how to eat
No out-of-fafhion wine or meat,
To underſtand cravats and plumes,
And the most modifh from the old perfumes;
To know the age and pedigrees
Of points of Flanders or Venice;
Caft their nativitics, and, to a day,
Foretci how long they'll hold, and when decay;
45
2,
55
TO THE MEMORY OF DU VAL
163
To affect the pureft negligences
In geftures, gaits, and miens,
And ſpeak by repartee-rotines
Out of the moſt authentick of romances,
And to demonftrate, with fubftantial reaſon,
What ribands, all the year, are in or out of feaſon.
IV.
In this great academy of mankind
He had his birth and education,
Where all men are ſo ingeniouſly inclin❜d,
60
65
They underſtand by imitation,
Improve untaught, before they are aware,
As if they fuck'd their breeding from the air,
That naturally does diſpenſe
To all a deep and folid confidence;
70
A virtue of that precious ufe,
That he whom bounteous Heav'n endues
But with a mod'rate fhare of it,
Can want no worth, abilities, or wit,
In all the deep Hermetick arts:
75
(For fo of late the learned call
All tricks, if ftrange and myftical.)
He had improv'd his nat'ral parts,
And with his magick rod could found
Where hidden treaſure might be found:
He, like a lord o' th' manor, feiz'd upon
Whatever happen'd in his way
As lawful weft and ſtray,
And after, by the cuſtom, kept it as his own,
L
80
£64
TO THE MEMORY OF DU VAL.
V.
From theſe firſt rudiments he grew
To nobler feats, and try'd his force
Upon whole troops of foot and horſe,
Whom he as bravely did fubdue;
85
Declar'd all caravans that go
Upon the king's highway the foe;
90
Made many defperate attacks
Upon itinerant brigades
Of all profeffions, ranks, and trades,
On carriers' loads, and pedlars' packs;
Made 'em lay down their arms, and yield,
And, to the fmalleſt piece, reſtore
All that by cheating they had gain'd before,
And after plunder'd all the baggage of the field.
In every bold affair of war
He had the chief command, and led them on;
For no man is judg'd fit to have the care
Of others' lives, until he 'as made it known
How much he does defpife and ſcorn his own.
VI.
Whole provinces, 'twixt fun and fun,
95
100
Have by his conqu'ring ſword 'been won ;
IOS
And mighty fums of money laid,
For ranſom, upon every man,
And hoftages deliver'd till 't was paid.
Th' exciſe and chimney-publican,
The Jew foreftaller and enhancer,
To him for all their crimes did anſwer.
110
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL.
165
He vanquifh'd the moft fierce, and fell,
Of all his foes, the Conftable;
And oft' had beat his quarters up,
And routed him and all his troop.
IIS
He took the dreadful lawyer's fees,
That in his own allow'd highway
Does feats of arms as great as his,
And when they' encounter in it wins the day:
Safe in his garrifon, the Court,
120
Where meaner criminals are fentenc'd for 't,
To this ftern foe he oft' gave quarter,
But as the Scotchman did a Tartar,
That he, in time to come, :
Might in return from him receive his fatal doom.125
VII.
He would have ſtarv'd this mighty Town,
And brought its haughty fpirit down,
Have cut it off from all relief, -
And, like a wife and valiant chief,
Made many a fierce affault
Upon all ammunition carts,
And thofe that bring up cheeſe, or.mait,
Or bacon, from remoter parts;.
130
No convoy e'er fo ftrong with food
Durſt venture on the defp'rate road :
135
He made th' undaunted wagonner obey,
And the fierce higgler contribution pay;
The favage butcher and ftout drover
Durſt not to him their feeble troops diſcover;
#66
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-TAL
And if he had but kept the field,
In time had made the city yield;
For great towns, like to crocodiles, are found
I' th' belly apteft to receive a mortal wound.
VIII.
But when the fatal hour artiv'd
In which his ftars began to frown,
And had in clofe cabals contriv'd
To pull him from his height of glory down,
And he, by num`rous foes oppreſt,
Was in th' enchanted dungeon caft,
Secur'd with mighty guards,
Left he by force or fratagem
$40
144
Might prove too cunning for their chains and them,
And break thro' all their locks, and bolts, and wards,
Had both his legs by charms committed
That neither might be fet at large,
To one another's charge,
And all their fury and revenge outwitted.
Asjewels of high value are
Kept under locks with greater care
Than thoſe of meaner rates,
* 55
160
So he was in ſtone walls, and chains, and iron gratės.
IX.
Thither came ladies from all parts
To offer up clofe prifoners their hearts,
Which he receiv'd as tribute due,
And made them yield up love and honour too, 165
TO THE MEMORY OF DU VAL.
167
But in more brave heroick ways
Than e'er were practis'd yet in plays:
For thofe two fpightful foes, who never meet
But full of hot conteſts and piques
About punctilios and mere tricks,
Did all their quarrels to his doom ſubmit,
And, far more generous and free,
170
In contemplation only of him did agree,
Both fully fatisfy'd; the one
With thofe frefa laurels he had won,
175
And all the brave renowned feats
He had perform'd in arms;
The other with his perfon and his charms:
For juſt as larks are catch'd in nets,
By gazing on a piece of glafs,
180
So while the ladies view'd his brighter eyes,
And fmoother polifh'd face,
Their gentle hearts, alas! were taken by furpriſe.
X.
Never did bold knight, to relieve
Diftreffed dames, fuch dreadful feats achieve
As feeble damfels, for his fake,
Wou'd have been proud to undertake;
And, bravely ambitious to redeem
The world's lofs and their own,
185
Strove who ſhould have the honour to lay down 190
And change a life with him;
But finding all their hopes in vain
168
A BALLAD UPON THE PARLIAMENT.
To move his fixt determin'd fate,
Their life itfelf began to hate,
As if it were an infamy
To live when he was doom'd to die;
Made loud appeals and moans,
To lefs hard-hearted grates and ſtones;
Came, fwell'd with fighs, and drown'd in tears,
To yield themſelves his fellow-fufferers,
And follow'd him, like prifoners of war,
Chain'd to the lofty wheels of his triumphant car
A BALLAD
UPON
THE PARLIAMENT
WHICH DELIBERATED
ABOUT MAKING OLIVER KING *.
As clofe as a goofe
Sat the Parliament-houfe
To hatch the royal gull;
After much fiddle-faddle,
The egg prov'd addle,
195
200
3
And Oliver came forth Nol.
Yet old Queen Madge,
Tho' things do not fadge,
Will ferve to be queen of a May-pole;
This Ballad refers to the Parliament, as it was called,
which deliberated about making Oliver king, and petitioned
him to accept the title; which he, out of fear of fome republi-
can zealots in his party, refufed to accept, and contented hin-
felf with the power, under the name of Protector.
A BALLAD UPON THE PARLIAMENT.
169
Two princes of Wales,
For Whitfun-ales,
And her Grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.
In a robe of cow-hide
Sat yefty Pride,
With his dagger and his fling;
He was the pertinent'A peer
Of all that were there,
T'advife with fuch a king.
A great philofopher
Had a goofe for his lover,
10
15
20
That follow'd him day and night:
If it be a true ſtory,
Or but an allegory,
It may be both ways right.
Strickland and his fon,
Both caft into one,
Were meant for a ſingle baron;
But when they came to fit,
There was not wit
25
Enough in them both to ferve for one.
33
Wherefore 't was thought good
To add Honeywood;
But when they came to trial,
Volume III.
170
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS.
Each one prov'd a fool,
Yet three knaves in the whole,
And that made up a Pair-royal.
ABALLAD
IN TWO PARTS.
Conjectured to be on
OLIVER CROMWELL*.
36
DRAW
PART I.
RAW near, good people all, draw near,
And hearken to my ditty;
A ſtranger thing
Than this I fing
Came never to this city.
Had but feen this monſter,
you
You wou'd not give a farthing
For the loins in the grate,
Nor the mountain-cat,
Nor the bears in Paris-garden.
ΤΟ
To this humorous ballad Butler had prefixed this title-
The Privileges of Pimping-but afterwards croffed it out, for
which reaſon I have not inferted it; and on'y mention it as a
circumftance which may amuſe ſuch as are curious in hunting
cut the explication of niceties of this fort. It does not appear to
bear any fenfe confiftent with the fubject; but fome other cri-
tick may perhaps find one, or at leaſt pleaſe himſelf with think-
ing fo.
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS.
171
You wou'd defy the pageants
Are borne before the mayor;
The ftrangeſt ſhape
You e'er did gape
Upon at Bart'lomy fair!
His face is round and decent,
As is your diſh or platter,
On which there grows
A thing like a noſe,
But, indeed, it is no fuch matter.
20
On both fides of th' aforefaid
Are eyes, but they're not matches,
On which there are
To be feen two fair
And large well-grown muftaches.
25
Now this with admiration
Does all beholders ftrike,
That a beard fhou'd grow
Upon a thing's brow,
Did
ye ever fee the like?
30
V. 16.] From the medals, and original portraits, which are
left of Oliver Cromwell, one may probably conjecture, if not
poſitively affirm, that this droll picture was defigned for him.
The roundneſs of the face, the oddneſs of the noſe, and the
remarkable largenefs of the eyebrows, are particulars which
correfpond exactly with them.
Pij
1,2
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS.
He has no fcull, 't is well known
To thouſands of beholders;
Nothing but a ſkin
Does keep his brains in
From running about his thoniders.
On both fides of his noddle
Are ftraps o' th' very fame leather;
Ears are imply'd,
But they're mere hide,
35
Or morfels of tripe, chale ye whether.
40
Between thefe two extendeth
A flit from ear to ear,
That ev'ry hour
Gapes to devour
The fowce that grows fo near.
Beneath a tuft of briftles,
As rough as a frize-jerkin;
If it had been a beard,
"Twou'd have ferv'd a herd
45
Of goats, that are of his uear kin.
50
Within a fet of grinders
Moſt tharp and keen, corroding
Your iron and brafs
As eafy as
That
you wou'd do a pudding.
55
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS.
123
AUTOG TANGGALKANDARAS
But the ftrangest thing of all is,
Upon his rump there groweth
A great long tail,
That uſeth to trail
Upon the ground as he goeth.
A BALLAD
IN TWO PARTS.
Conjectured to be on
OLIVER CROMWELL.
PART II.
THIS monfter was begotten
Upon one of the witches,
B' an imp that came to her,
Like a man, to woo her,
With black doublet and britches.
When he was whelp'd, for certain,
In divers feveral countries
The hogs and fwine
Did grunt and whine,
And the ravens croak'd upon trees.
10
The winds did blow, the thunder
And lightning loud did rumble;
60
Piij
***
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS
The dogs did howl,
The hollow tree in th' owl.
'Tis a good horſe that ne'er ſtumbl'd.
15
As foon as he was brought forth,
At the midwife's throat he few,
And threw the pap
Down in her lap;
They fay 't is
very
true.
And up the walls he clamber'd,
With nails moſt ſharp and keen;
The prints whereof,
I' th' boards and roof,
Are yet for to be ſeen.
And out o' th' top o' th' chimney
He vanifl'd, ſeen of none;
For they did wink,
Yet by the flink
Knew which way he was gone.
23
25
30
. 13, 14.] This whimfical liberty our Author takes, of
tranfpofing the words for the fake of a thyme, though at the
expenſe of the fenfe, is a new kind of poetick hcemfe; and it is
merry enough to obferve, that he literally does, what he jo-
kingly charges upon other poets in another place:
But thoſe that write in rhyme ſtill make
The one verſe for the other's fake;
For one for fenfe, and one for rhyme,
I think 's fufficicat at one time,
Hud. p. 2. c. I. v. 29.
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS.
#75
The country round about there
Became like to a wildern-
nefs; for the fight
Of him did fright
Away men, women, and children.
Long did he there continue,
And all thoſe parts much harmed,
'Till a wife woman, which
Some call a white witch,
Him into a hogſly charmed.
There, when fhe had him that faft,
With brimftone and with nitre,
She fing'd the claws
Of his left
paws,
With tip of his tail, and his right ear.
And with her charms and ointments
She made him tame as a ſpaniel;
For the us'd to ride
On his back aftride,
Nor did he do her any ill.
But to the admiration
Of all both far and near,
He hath been flown
In ev'ry town,
And eke in ev'ry fhire.
33
40
45
10
35
176
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
And now, at length, he 's brought
Unto fair London city,
Where in Fleet-freet
All thoſe may fee't
That will not believe my ditty.
God fave the King and Parliament,
And eke the Prince's highneſs,
And quickly fend
The wars an end,
As here my fong has-Finis.
69
.65
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS*.
ALL men's intrigues and projects tend,
By fev'ral courſes, to one end;
To compafs, by the prop'reft ſhows,
Whatever their deſigns propofe;
j
And that which owns the fair'ft pretext
Is often found the indirect'ft.
Hence 'tis that hypocrites ftill paint
Much fairer than the real faint,
.61.] From this circumftance it appears, that this Ballad
was wrote before the murder of the King, and that it is the
earliest performance of Butler's that has yet been made pu-
blick; and I think one may, without prejudice, affirm, that
it does no difcredit to his younger years.
*This and the other little Sketches that follow, were, among
many of the fame kind, fairly wrote out by Butler, in a fort
of poetical Thefaurus, which I have before mentioned. Whe-
ther he intended ever to publish any of them, as feparatę
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHT.
177
And knaves appear more juſt and true
Than honeft men, that make lefs fhew:
The dulleft idiots in difguife
Appear more knowing than the wife :
Illiterate dunces, undifcern'd,
Pafs on the rabble for the learn'd;
And cowards, that can danın and rant,
Pafs mufter for the valiant :
For he that has but impudence
To all things has a juſt pretence,
Aud, put among his wants but fhame,
To all the world may lay his claim.
10
IS
20
diftinct thoughts, ot to interweave them into fone future
compofitions, a thing very ufual with him, cannot be afcer-
tained; nor is it indeed very material to thoſe who are fond
of his manner of thinking and writing. I have ventured to
give them the title of Mifcellaneous Thoughts; but I have not
been over curious in placing them in any methodical order.
Out of this magazine he communicated to Mr. Aubrey that
genuine fragment printed in his life, beginning,
No Jefuit e'er took in hand
To plant a church in barren land,
Nor ever thought it worth the while
A Swede or Rufs to reconcile, &c.
The publiſhing of Mifcellaneous Thoughts, or, what paffes
under the name of Table-Ta, niight be juftified by many
names of the greatest authority in the learned world; and
thefe fallies of wit, unconnectedly printed, fometimes give
more pleaſure than when they are interfperfed in a long and
regular work; as it is often more entertaining to examine
jewels feparately in a cabinet, than to fee them adorning a
prince's crown, or a royal robe. One may venture to add,
that theſe of our Author muſt have a kind of additional recom-
mendation, by the agreeable fingularity of their being in verfe.
178
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
How various and innumerable
Are thoſe who live upon the rabble?
'Tis they maintain the church and ſtate,
Employ the prieſt and magiftrate;
Bear all the charge of government,
And pay the publick fines and rent;
Defray all taxes and excifes,
And impofitions of all prices ;
Bear all th' expenfe of peace and war,
And pay the pulpit and the bar;
Maintain all churches and religions,
And give their paſtors exhibitions;
And thoſe who have the greateſt flocks
Are primitive and orthodox;
Support all ſchiſmaticks and ſects,
And pay 'em for tormenting texts;
Take all their doctrines off their hands,
And pay 'en, in good rents and lands;
Diſcharge all coftly offices,
The doctor's and the lawyer's fees,
The hangman's wages and the fcores
Of caterpillar bawds and whores;
Diſcharge all damages and cofts
Of Knights and Squires of the Poft;
All ſtateſmen, cutpurfes, and padders,
And pay for all their ropes and ladders;
25
૩૦
35
40
45
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
179
All pettifoggers, and all forts
Of markets, churches, and of courts;
All fums of money paid or ſpent,
With all the charges incident,
Laid out, or thrown away, or giv'n
To purchaſe this world, hell, or heav'n.
SHOULD Once the world refolve t' aboliſh
All that's ridiculous and foolish,
It wou'd have nothing left to do,
T'apply in jeft or earneſt to,
No bus'nefs of importance, play,
Or flate, to paſs its time away.
THE world would be more juft, if truth and lies,
And right and wrong did bear an equal price;
But fince impoftors are fo highly rais'd,
And faith and juſtice equally debas'd,
ទ
50
55
60
Few men have tempers for fuch paltry gains
T'undo themſelves with drudgery and pains.
THE fottifh world without diftinction looks
65
On all that paffes on th' account of books;
And when there are two ſcholars that within
The ſpecies only hardly are akin,
The world will paſs for men of equal knowledge,
If equally they've loiter'd in a college.
20
180
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
CRITICKS are like a kind of flies that breed
In wild fig-trees, and, when they're grown up, feed
Upon the raw fruit of the nobler kind,
And by their nibbling on the outward rind,
way for the fun
Open the pores, and make
To ripen it fooner than he wou'd have done.
As all Fanaticks preach, fo all men write
Out of the ftrength of gifts and inward light,
In fpite of art; as horfes thorough pac'd
75
Were never taught, and therefore go more faft. lo
In all miftakes the ftrict and regular
N
Are found to be the defp'rat'ft ways to err,
And worft to be avoided, as a wound
Is faid to be the harder cur'd that's round;
For errour and miſtake the leſs they' appear,
In th' end are found to be the dangerouſer ;
As no man minds thofe clocks that ufe to go
Apparently too over-faft or flow.
THE trueft charaЯers of ignorance
Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance;
As blind men ufe to bear their nofes higher
Than thoſe that have their eyes and fight entire.
THE metaphyfick's but a puppet motion
That goes with fcrews, the notion of a notion;
85
90
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
17:
The copy of a copy, and lame draught
Unnaturally taken from a thought;
That counterfeits all pantomimick tricks,
And turns the eyes like an old crucifix;
That counterchanges whatfoe'er it calls
B'another name, and makes it true or falfe;
Turns truth to falfehood, falfehood into truth,
By virtue of the Babylonian's tooth.
Tis not the art of fchools to underſtand,
But make things hard, inftead of b`ing explain'd;
And therefore thofe are commonly the learn'deft
That only fludy between jeft and earneft:
For when the end of learning's to purfue
And trace the fubtle fteps of falfe and true,
They ne'er confider how they're to apply,
But only liften to the noife and cry,
And are fo much delighted with the chaſe,
They never mind the taking of their preys.
MORE profelytes and converts ufe t'accrue
To falfe perfuafions than the right and true;
For errour and miftake are infinite,
But truth has but one way to be i' th' right;
As numbers may t' infinity be grown,
But never to be redue'd to lefs than one.
ALL wit and fancy, like a diamond,
The more exact and curious 'tis ground,
Volume 111.
a
95
Ice
ICS
ΙΙΟ
IIS
120
182
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
Is forc'd for every carat to abate
As much in value as it wants in weight.
THE great St. Lewis, king of France,
Fighting againſt Mahometans,
}
In Egypt, in the holy war,
Was routed and made prifoner:
The Sultan then, into whofe hands
He and his army fell, demands
X25
A thouſand weight of gold, to free
And fet them all at liberty.
130
The king pays down one half o' th' nail,
And for the other offers bail,
The pyx, and in 't the euchariſt,
The body of our Saviour Chrift.
The Turk confider'd, and allow'd
135
The king's fecurity for good;
Such credit had the Chriſtian zeal,
In thoſe days, with an Infidel,
That will not pafs for twopence now,
Among themſelves, 't is grown fo low.
TH
HOSE that go up hill ufe to bow
Their bodies forward, and ſtoop low,
140
To poife themselves, and fometimes creep,
When th' way is difficult and fteep:
So thofe at court, that do addrefs
145
By low ignoble offices,
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
183
Can ſtoop at any thing that's baſe,
To wriggle into truit and grace,
Are like to rife to greatneſs ſooner
Than thoſe that go by worth and honour.
ALL acts of grace, and pardon, and oblivion,
Are meant of fervices that are forgiv'n,
And not of crimes delinquents have committed,
And rather been rewarded than acquitted.
150
LIONS are kings of beafts, and yet their pow'r 155
Is not to rule and govern, but devour:
Such favage kings all tyrants are, and they
No better than mere beafts that do obey.
NOTHING's more dull and negligent
Than an old lazy government,
That knows no intereft of ftate,
But fuch as ferves a prefent ftrait,
And to patch up, or fhift, will cloſe,
Or break alike, with friends or foes;
That runs behind hand, and has ſpent
Its credit to the laſt extent;
And the first time 'tis at a lofs,
160
165
Has not one true friend nor one crofs.
THE Devil was the first o' th' name
From whom the race of rebels came,
تنع
170
184
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHT 8.
Who was the firſt bold undertaker
Of bearing arms against his Maker,
And tho' mifcarrying in th' event,
Was never yet known to repent,
Tho' tumbled from the top of blifs
Down to the bottomleſs abyfs:
A property which, from their prince,
The family owns ever ſince,
And therefore ne'er repent the evil
They do or fuffer, like the devil.
173
180
THE worst of rebels never arm
To do their king or country harm,
But draw their fwords to do them good,
As doctors cure by letting blood.
No feared confcience is fo fell
185
As that which has been burnt with zeal;
For Chriftian charity's as well
A great impediment to zeal,
As zeal a peftilent difeafe
To Chriftian charity and peace.
As thifles wear the fofteft down,
To hide their prickles till they're grown,
And then declare themſelves, and tear
Whatever ventures to come neat ;
195
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
184
So a ſmooth knave does greater feats
Than one that idly rails and threats,
And all the mifchief that he meant
Does, like a rattlefnake, prevent.
195
MAN is fupreme Lord and maſter
Of his own ruin and dilafter,
Controls his fate, but nothing lefs
In ord'ring his own happineſs:
For all his care and providence
Is too, too feeble a defence
2cQ
To render it fecure and certain
Againſt the injuries of Fortune;
And oft', in ſpite of all his wit,
Is loft with one unlucky hit,
And ruin'd with a circumftance,
And mere punctilio, of chance.
205
210
DAME Fortune, fome men's tutelar,
Takes charge of them without their care,
Does all their drudgery and work,
Like Fairies, for them in the dark;
Conducts them blindfold, and advances
215
The naturals by blinder chances;
While others by defert or wit
Cou'd never make the matter hit,
But ſtill the better they deſerve,
Are but the abler thought to ftarve.
220
Qiij
ફેસર
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
GREAT wits have only been preferr'd,
In princes' trains to be interr'd,
And, when they coft them nothing, plac'd,
Among their followers not the laft;
But while they liv'd were far enough
From all admittances kept off.
As gold, that's proof againſt th' effay,
Upon the touchflone wears away,
And having ſtood the greater teft,
{
223
Is overmafter'd by the leaſt;
230
So fome men having food the bate
And ſpiteful cruelty of Fate,
Tranſported with a falfe carefs
Of unacquainted happiness,
Loft to humanity and fenfe,
Have fall'n as low as infolence.
233
INNOCENCE is a defence
For nothing else but patience;
"I will not bear out the blows of Fate,
Nor fence againſt the tricks of ſtate;
Nor from th' oppreffion of the laws
Protect the plain'ft and jufteft caufe;
Nor keep unfpotted a good name
Against the obloquies of Fame;
$40
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
38;
I ecble as Patience, and as foon,
By being blown upon, undone,
As beafts are hunted for their furs,
545
Men for their virtues fare tire worſe,
Wno doth not know with what fierce rage
Opinions, true or falfe, cngage?
250
And, 'cauſe they govern all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind,
All claim an equal intereſt,
And free dominion, o'er the rcft,
And as one ſhield that fell from heav'n
235
Was counterfeited by eleven,
The better to fecure the fate
And lafting empire of a ſtate,
The falfe are num'rous, and the true,
That only have the right, but few.
200
Hence fools, that underſtand 'em leaf,
Are ftill the fierceft in conteft;
Unfight, unfeen, eſpouſe a ſide
At random, like a prince's bride,
To damn their fouls, and fwear and lie for,
And at a venture live and die for.
265
OPINION governs all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind;
For he that has no eyes in 's head
Muſt be by a dog glad to be led ;
270
188
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTSÄ
And no beafts have fo little in 'em
As that inhuman brute, Opinion:
'Tis an infectious peftilence,
The tokens upon wit and ſenſe,
That with a venomous contagion
Invades the fick imagination;
And when it feizes any part,
It ſtrikes the poifon to the heart.
This men of one another catch
By contact, as the humours match;
And nothing 's fo perverfe in nature
As a profound opiniator.
AUTHORITY intoxicates,
And makes mere fots of magiftrates;
275
280
The fumes of it invade the brain,
285
And make men giddy, proud, and vain :
By this the fool commands the wife,
The noble with the bafe complies,
The fot affumes the rule of wit,
And cowards make the baſe ſubmit.
A GODLY man, that has ferv'd out his time
In holineſs, may fet up any crime;
As fcholars, when they've taken their degrees,
May fet up any faculty they pleaſe.
Why fhou'd not piety be made,
As well as equity, a trade,
290
295
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
187
And men get money by devotion,
As well as making of a motion?
E' allow'd to pray upon conditions,
As well as fuitors in petitions?
And in a congregation pray,
No less than Chancery, for pay?
A TEACHER's doctrine, and his proof,
Is all his province, and enough;
૩૮
But is no more concern'd in uſe,
305
Than fhoemakers to wear all fhoes.
THE fob'reft faints are more ftiff-necked
Than th' hotteft-headed of the wicked.
HYPOCRISY will ferve as well
To propagate a church as zeal;
As perfecution and promotion
Do equally advance devotion:
310
So round white ftones will ferve, they ſay,
As well as eggs, to make hens lay.
THE greatest faints and finners have been made 315
Of profelytes of one another's trade.
YOUR wife and cautious confciences
Are free to take what courfe they pleaſe;
190
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
Have plenary indulgence to diſpoſe,
At pleaſure of the ftricteft vows,
320
And challenge Heav'n, they made 'em to,
To vouch and witneſs what they do;
And when they prove averfe and loath,
Yet for convenience take an oath;
Not only can difpenfe, but make it
A greater fin to keep than take it;
Can bind and loofe all forts of fin,
And only keeps the keys within;
Has no fuperiour to control,
But what itſelf fets o'er the foul;
And when it is enjoin'd t' obey,
Is but confin'd, and keeps the key;
Can walk inviſible, and where,
And when, and how, it will appear,
Can turn itſelf into difguifes
Of all forts, for all forts of vices;
Can tranſubſtantiate, metamorphofe,
And charm whole herds of beafts, like Orpheus;
Make woods, and tenements, and lands,
Obey and follow its commands,
325
330
335
340
And ſettle on a new freehold,
As Marcly-hill remov'd of old;
Make mountains move with greater force
Than faith, to new proprietors;
And perjures, to fecure th' enjoyments
345
Of publick charges and employments:
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
191
For true and faithful, good and juſt,
Are but preparatives to truft;
The gilt and ornament of things,
And not their movements, wheels, and ſprings. 350
ALL love, at first, like gen'rous wine,
Ferments and frets until 't is fine
But when 't is fettled on the lee,
And from th' impurer matter free,
Becomes the richer ftill the older,
355
And proves the pleafanter the colder.
THE motions of the earth or fun,
(The Lord knows which) that turn, or run,
Are both perform'd by fits and fſtarts,
And fo are thofe of lovers' hearts,
Which, tho' they keep no even pace,
Move true and conftant to one place.
360
LOVE is too great a happineſs
For wretched mortals to poffefs;
For cou'd it hold inviolate
365
Against thofe cruelties of Fate
Which all felicities below
By rigid laws are fubject to,
It wou'd become a bliſs too high
For perifhing mortality,
370
192
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
Tranflate to earth the joys above;
For nothing goes to heav'n but love.
ALL wild but gen'rous creatures live, of courſe,
As if they had agreed for better or worſe :
The lion's conftant to his only mifs,
And never leaves his faithful honefs;
And fhe as chafte and true to him agen,
As virtuous ladies ufe to be to men.
The docile and ingenuous elephant
T'his own and only female is gallant;
And he as true and conftant to his bed,
375
380
That firft enjoy'd her fingle maidenhead;
But paltry rams, and bulls, and goats, and boars,
Are never fatisfy'd with new amours;
As all poltroons with us delight to range,
385
And, tho' but for the worſt of all, to change.
THE fouls of women are fo fmall,
That fome believe they've none at all;
Or if they have, like cripples, till
They've but one faculty, the will;
The other two are quite laid by
To make up one great tyranny;
And tho' their paffions have moft pow'r,
They are, like Turks, but flaves the more
To th' abs'lute will, that with a breath
Has fov'reign pow'r of life and death,
395
395
I
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
193
And, as its little int'refts move,
Can turn 'em all to hate or love;
For nothing, in a moment, turn
To frantick love, difdain, and fcorn;
400
And make that love degenerate
T'as great extremity of hate;
And hate again, and fcorn, and piques,
To flames, and raptures, and lovetricks.
ALL forts of vot'ries, that profefs
To bind themſelves apprentices
To Heav'n, abjure, with folemn vows,
Not Cut and Long-tail, but a fpoule,
As th' worst of all impediments
To hinder their devout intents.
Mor virgins marry, just as nuas
The fame thing the fame way renounce ;
Before they've wit to underftand
The bold attempt they take in hand;
Or having ftaid and løft their tides,
Are out of feafon grown for brides.
Tar credit of the marriage-bed
Has been fo loofcly hufbanded,
Men only deal for ready money,
And women fep rate alimony;
Volume 111.
405
419
418
420
R
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHT3.
And ladies-errant, for debauching,
Have better terms, and equal caution;
And for their journeywork and pains
The chairwomen clear greater gains.
As wine that with its own weight runs is beft,
And counted much more noble than the preft;
So is that poetry whofe gen'rous ftrains
Flow without fervile ftudy, art, or pains.
SOME call it fury, fome a mufe,
That, as poffeffing devils ufe,
424
430
Haunts and forfakes a man by fits,
And when he's in, he's out of 's wits.
ALL writers, tho' of diff'rent fancies,
Do make all people in romances,
That are diftrefs'd and diſcontent.
Make fongs, and fing t' an inftrument,
And poets by their fuff'rings grow;
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
435
But only want and difcontent.
440
Τ
IT is not poetry that makes men poor;
For few do write that were not fo before;
And thoſe that have writ beft, had they been rich,
Had ne'er been clapp'd with a poetick itch;
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
195
Had lov'd their eaſe too well to take the pains 445
To undergo that drudgery of brains;
But being for all other trades unfit,
Only tavoid being idle fet up wit
THEY that do write in authors' praiſes,
And freely give their friends their voices,
450
Are not confin'd to what is true;
That's not to give, but pay a due :
For praife, that's due, doesgive no more
To worth than what it had before;
455
But to commend, without defert,
Requires a mattery of art, «
That fets a glofs on what's amiſs,
And writes what fhou'd be, not what is.
IN foreign univerfities,
When a king's born, or weds, or dies,
460
Etraight other ftudies are laid by,
And all apply to poetry :
Some write in Hebrew, fome in Greek,
And ſome, more wiſe, in Arabick,
T'avoid the critick, and th' expenſe
Of difficulter wit and fenfe;
And feem more learnediſh than thoſe
That at a greater charge compofe.
The doctors lead, the ftudents follow;
Some call him Mars, and fome Apollo,
465
470
Rij
196
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
Some Jupiter, and give him th' odds,
On even terms, of all the gods:
Then Cæfar he's nicknam'd, as duly as
He that in Rome was chriften'd Julius,
And was addrefs'd to by a crow,
As pertinently long ago;
And with more heroes' names is ftyl'd,
Than faints' are clubb'd t' an Auftrian child;
And as wit goes by colleges,
475
As well as fanding and degrees,
480
He ſtill writes better than the reft,
That's of the houfe that's counted beft.
FAR greater numbers have been loft by hopes,
Than all the magazines of daggers, ropes,
And other ammunitions of defpair
Were ever able to diſpatch by fear.
485
THERE's nothing our felicities endears
Like that which falls among our doubts and fears,
And in the miferableft of diftrefs
Improves attempts as defp'rate with fuccefs;
Succefs, that owns and juftifies all quarrels,
And vindicates deferts of hemp with laurels;
Or, but mifcarrying in the bold attempt,
Turns wreaths of laurel back again to hemp.
490
THE people have as much a neg’tive voice
To hinder making war without their choice,
495
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
199
Askings of making laws in parliament;
No money is as good as No allent.
WHEN princes idly lead about,
Thofe of their party follow fuit,
Till others trump upon their play,
And turn the cards another way.
WHAT makes all fubjc&s difcontent
Againſt a prince's government,
And princes take as great offence
At ſubjects' difobedience,
That neither th' other can abide,
But too much reafon on each fide?
*
Sor
AUTHORITY is a diſeaſe and cure,
Which men can neither want nor well endure.
510
DAME Juftice puts her fword into the fcales,
With which fhe's ſaid to weigh out true and falſe,
With no deſign but, like the antique Gaul,
To get more money from the capital.
ALL that which law and equity mifcalls
By th' empty idle names of True and Falſe,
Is nothing elfe but maggots blown between
Falfe witneffes and falfer jurymen.
515
Rij
198
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
No court allows thofe partial interlopers
Of law and equity, two fingle paupers,
T'encounter hand to hand at bars, and trounce
Each other gratis in a fuit at once:
For one at one time, and upon free coſt, is
Enough to play the knave and fool with juftice;
And when the one fide bringeth cuſtom in,
And th' other lays out half th' reckoning,
The devil himself will rather chufe to play
At paltry ſmall game than fit out, they ſay;
But when at all there's nothing to be got,
The old wife, Law, and Juftice, will not trot.
$20
525
530
THE law, that makes more knaves than e'er it hung,
Little confiders right or wrong;
But, like authority', is foon fatisfy'd
When 'tis to judge on its own fide.
THE law can take a purfe in open court,
Whilft it condemns a lefs delinquent for 't.
WHO can deferve for breaking of the laws
A greater penance than an honeſt cauſe?
ALL thoſe that do but rob and ſteal enough,
Are puniſhment and court of juftice proof,
And need not fear nor be concern'd a ſtraw,
In all the idle bugbears of the law,
But confidently rob the gallows too,
As well as other fufferers of their due.
335
540
544
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
199
OLD laws have not been fuffer'd to be pointed,
To leave the fenfe at large the more disjointed,
And furniſh lawyers with the greater cafe,
To turn and wind them any way they pleaſe.
The ftatute law's their fcripture, and reports
The ancient rev'rend fathers of their courts,
Records their general councils, and decifions
Of judges on the bench their fole traditions,
For which, like Catholicks, they've greater awe
As th' arbitrary and unwritten law,
550
And frive perpetually to make the ftandard
555
Of right between the tenant and the landlord;
And when two cafes at a trial meet,
That, like indentures, jump exactly fit,
And all the points, like Chequer-tallics, fuit,
The Court directs the obftinat'ft difpute;
560
There's no decorum us'd of time, nor place,
Nor quality, nor perfon, in the cafe.
A MAN of quick and active wit
For drudgery is more unfit,
Compar'd to thofe of duller parts,
305
Than running nags to draw in carts.
Too much or too little wit
Do only render th' owners fit
For nothing, but to be undone
Much eaſier than if they 'ad none.
$70
£CO
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHT!.
As thofe that are ftark blind can trace
The neareſt ways from place to place,
And find the right way eaſier out,
Than thoſe that hoodwink'd try'd to do't;
So tricks of ſtate are manag'd best
By thoſe that are fufpected leaft,
And greateſt fineſſe brought about
By engines moſt unlike to do't
ALL the politicks of the great
Are like the cunning of a cheat,
That lets his falfe dice freely run,
575
580
And trufts them to themſelves alone,
But never lets a true one ſtir
Without fome fing'ring trick or flur;
And, when the gameſters doubt his play,
$85
Conveys his falfe dice ſafe away,
And leaves the true ones in the lurch,
'T' endure the torture of the ſearch.
WHAT elfe does hiftory ufe to tell us,
But tales of fubjects b'ing rebellious;
The vain perfidiouſneſs of lords,
And fatal breach of princes' words;
The fottiſh pride and infolence
190
Of ſtateſmen, and their want of fenſe;
Their treach'ry, that undoes, of cuſtom,
595
Their ownfelves firft, next thofe who truſt 'em?
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS,
201
BECAUSE a feeble limb 's careft,
And more indulg'd than all the reſt,
So frail and tender confciences
Are humour'd to do what they pleafe;
6co
When that which goes for weak and feeble
Is found the moft incorrigible,
To outdo all the fiends in hell
With rapine, murder, blood, and zeal.
As at th' approach of winter all
605
The leaves of great trees ufe to fall,
And leave them naked to engage
With forms and tempefts when they rage,
While humbler plants are found to wear
Their fresh green liv'ries all the year;
610
So when the glorious feafon 's gone
With great men, and hard times come on,
The great'ſt calamities opprefs
The greateſt ſtill, and fpare the leſs.
As when a greedy raven fees
615
A fheep entangled by the fleece,
With hafty cruelty he flies
To attack him, and pick out his eyes;
So do thoſe vultures uſe, that keep
Poor pris'ners faft like filly ſheep,
As greedily to prey on all
That in their rav'nous clutches fall:
620
202
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
For thorns and brambles, that came in
To wait upon the curfe for fin,
And were no part o' th' firſt creation,
But, for revenge, a new plantation,
Are yet the fitt'ft materials
T'encloſe the earth with living walls.
635
So jailors, that are moſt accurft,
Are found moft fit in being worſt.
630
THERE needs no other charm, nor conjurer,
To raiſe infernal ſpirits up but fear,
634
That makes men pull their horns in like a fnail,
That's both a pris'ner to itſelf and jail;
Draws more fantaſtick ſhapes than in the grains
Of knotted wood in fome men's crazy brains,
When all the cocks they think they fee, and bulls,
Are only in the infides of their fculls.
THE Roman Mufti, with his triple crown,
Does both the earth, and hell, and heav'n own.
Befide th' imaginary territory,
He lays a title to in Purgatory;
Declares himſelf an abfolute free prince
In his dominions, only over fins;
But as for heaven, fince it lies fo far
Above him, is but only titular,
And, like his Crof--keys badge upon a tavern,
638
643
Has nothing there to tempt, command, or govern :
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
203
Yet when he comes to take accompt, and ſhare
The profit of his proftituted ware,
650
He finds his gains increaſe, by fin and women,
Above his richeſt titular dominion.
A JUBILEE is but a fp'ritual fair,
T'expofe to fale all forts of impious ware
In which his Holiness buys nothing in,
To flock his magazines, but deadly fin,
And deals in extraordinary crimes,
That are not vendible at other times;
653
For dealing both for Judas and th' high-prieft,
He makes a plentifuller trade of Chriſt.
660
THAT fp'ritual pattern of the church, the ark,
In which the ancient world did once embark,
Had ne'er a helm in't to direct its way,
Altho' bound thro' an univerfal fea;
When all the modern church of Rome's concern
Is nothing elfe but in the helma and ftern.
666
In the church of Rome to go to fhrift,
Is but to put the foul on a clean ſhift.
AN afs will with his long ears fray
The flies, that tickle him, away;
But man delights to have ears
Blown maggots in by flatteress,
670
204
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
ALL wit does but divert men from the road
In which things vulgarly are underflood,
And force Miftake and Ignorance to own
A better fenfe than commonly is known.
N
In little trades more cheats and lying
Are us'd in felling than in buying;
But in the great unjufter dealing
Is us'd in buying than in felling.
ALL fmatt'rers are more brifk and pert
Than thoſe that underſtand an art;
As little ſparkles fhine more bright
675
680
Than glowing coals that give them light.
685
Law does not put the leaſt reſtraint
A W
Upon our freedom, but maintain 't;
Or if it does, 't is for our good,
To give us freer latitude:
For whole fome laws preferve us free,
Ey flinting of our liberty.
690
THE world has long endeavour'd to reduce
Thofe things to practice that are of no ufe,
And ſtrives to practife things of fpeculation,
And bring the practical to contemplation,
And by that errour renders both in vain,
By forcing Nature's courſe againſt the grain.
695
2
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
205
IN all the world there is no vice
Lefs prone t' excefs than avarice;
It neither cares for food nor clothing:
Nature's content with little, that with nothing.
IN Rome no temple was fo low
As that of Honour, built to ſhow
How humble honour ought to be,
Tho' there 't was all authority.
Ir is a harder thing for men to rate
T
Their own parts at an equal eftimate,
Than caft up fractions, in th' accompt of heav'n,
Of time and motion, and adjuſt them ev'n;
For modest perfons never had a true
Particular of all that is their due.
SOME people's fortunes, like a weft or ſtray,
Are only gain'd by lofing of their way.
As he that makes his mark is underſtood
To write his name, and 't is in law as good;
So he that cannot write one word of fenfe,
Believes he has as legal a pretence
To fcribble what he does not underſtand,
As idiots have a title to their land.
WERE Tully now alive, he 'd be to ſeek
In all our Latin terms of art and Greek;
Volume 111.
TOI
705
710
715
720
S
206
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
Would never underſtand one word of ſenſe
The moſt irrefragable ſchoolman means:
As if the fchools defign'd their terms of art
Not to advance a ſcience, but divert;
As Hocus Pocus conjures to amufe
The rabble from obferving what he does.
As 't is a greater myſtery in the art
725
Of painting to forefhorten any part
Than draw it out, fo 't is in books the chief
Of all perfections to be plain and brief.
730
THE man that for his profit's bought t' obey,
Is only hir'd, on liking, to betray,
And, when he's bid a liberaller price,
Will not be fluggish in the work, nor nice.
OPINIATORS naturally differ
From other men; as wooden legs are ſtiffer
Than thoſe of pliant joints, to yield and bow,
Which way foe'er they are defign'd to go.
NAVIGATION, that withstood
The mortal fury of the Flood,
And prov'd the only means to fave
All earthly creatures from the wave,
Has, for it, taught the fea and wind
To lay a tribute on mankind,
735
740
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS."
207
That, by degrees, has ſwallow'd more
Than all it drown'd at once before.
THE prince of Syracuſe, whoſe deftin'd fate
It was to keep a ſchool and rule a ſtate,
Found that his fceptre never was fo aw'd,
As when it was tranflated to a rod;
745
750
And that his fubjects never were fo obedient,
As when he was inaugurated pedant:
For to inftruct is greater than to rule,
And no commands fo imperious as a ſchool.
As he whofe deſtiny does
prove
To dangle in the air above,
Does lofe his life for want of air,
That only fell to be his fhare;
So he whom fate at once defign'd
To plenty and a wretched mind,
Is but condemn'd t' a rich diſtreſs,
And ſtarves with niggardly excefs.
755
760
THE univerfal med'cine is a trick,
That Nature never meant to cure the fick,
Unless by death, the fingular receipt,
765
To root out all difcafes by the great :
For univerfals deal in no one part
Of Nature, nor Particulars of Art;
Sij
208
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
And therefore that French quack that fet up phyfick,
Call'd his receipt a General ſpecifick.
For tho' in mortal poifons every one
Is mortal univerſally alone,
Yet nature never made an antidote
To cure 'em all as eafy as they 're got;
Much leſs, among fo many variations
Of diff'rent maladies and complications,
Make all the contrarities in Nature
Submit themſelves t' an equal moderator.
770
775
A convert's but a fly, that turns about
After his head 's pull'd off to find it out.
780
ALL mankind is but a rabble
As filly and unreaſonable
As thoſe that, crowding in the ſtreet,
To fee a fhow or moniter meet,
785
Of whom no one is in the right
Yet all fall out about the fight,
And when they chance t' agree, the choice is
Still in the moſt and worſt of vices;
And all the reaſons that prevail
Are meaſur'd, not by weight, but tale.
As in all great and crowded fairs
Monsters and puppet plays are wares
790
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
209
Which in the lefs will not go off,
Becauſe they have not money enough;
So men in princes' courts will paſs,
That will not in another place.
LOGICIANS ufe to clap a propoſition,
As juſtices do criminals, in prifon,
795
And in as learn'd authentick nonfenfe writ
The names of all their moods and figures fit:
For a logician's one that has been broke
800
To ride and pace his reafon by the book,
And by their rules, and precepts, and examples,
To put his wits into a kind of trammels.
THOSE get the leaft that take the greateſt pains,
But most of all i' th' drudgery of brains;
A natʼral fign of weakneſs, as an ant
Is more laborious than an elephant;
And children are more bufy at their play
Than thofe that wifely'ft pafs their time away.
806
ALL the inventions that the world contains,
811
Were not by reaſon firft found out, nor brains;
But pafs for theirs who had the luck to light
Upon them by miftake or overfight.
814
sij
TRIPLETS
UPON AVARICE.
As mifers their own laws enjoin
To wear no pockets in the mine,
For fear they ſhou'd the ore purloin:
So he that toils and labours hard
To gain, and what he gets has fpar'd,
Is from the uſe of all debarr'd.
And tho' he can produce more ſpankers
Than all the ufurers and bankers,
Yet after more and more he hankers;
And after all his pains are done,
Has nothing he can call his own,
But a mere livelihood alone.
6
12
DESCRIPTION
OF HOLLAND.
A COUNTRY that draws fifty foot of water,
In which men live as in the hold of Nature,
And when the fea does in upon them break,
And drowns a province, does but ſpring a lake;
That always ply the pump, and never think
They can be ſafe, but at the rate they ſtink;
I
5
TO HIS MISTRESS.
211
That live as if they had been run aground,
And, when they die, are caft away and drown'd;
That dwell in ſhips, like fwarms of rats, and prey
Upon the goods all nations' fleets convey;
10
And, when their merchants are blown up and crackt,
Whole towns are caft away in ſtorms, and wreckt;
That feed, like Cannibals, on other fiſhes,
And ferve their coufin-germans up in diſhes;
A land that rides at anchor, and is moor'd,
go aboard.
In which they do not live, but
TO HIS MISTRESS.
16
Do not unjustly blame
My guiltless breaſt,
For vent'ring to diſcloſe a flame
It had fo long fuppreft.
In its own afhes it defign'd
For ever to have lain;
But that my fighs, like blafis of wind,
Made it break out again.
TO THE SAME.
Do not mine affection flight,
'Cauſe my locks with age are white:
00
8
Your breafts have fnow without, and fnow within,
While flames of fire in your bright eyes are ſeen. 4
EPIGRAM
ON A CLUB OF SOTS.
THE jolly members of a toping club,
Like pipeſtaves, are but hoop'd into a tub,
And in a cloſe confederacy link,
For nothing elſe but only to hold drink.
HUDIBRAS'S ELEGY*.
In days of yore, when knight or Squire
By Fate were fummon'd to retire,
Some menial poet ftill was near,
To bear them to the hemifphere,
And there among the ſtars to leave 'em,
Until the gods fent to relieve 'em:
And fure our Knight, whofe very fight wou'd
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood,
Shou'd he neglected lie, and rot,
Stink in his grave, and be forgot,
ΤΟ
As neither this Elegy, nor the following Epitaphi, is to be
found in The Genuine Remains of Butler, as published by Mr.
Thyer from the manufcripts in the poffeffion of the late Wil-
Ham Longueville, Efq; they appear to have been rejected by
the Editor, with a multitude of others, as being fpurious; but
as both have conftantly made a part of the Collection of poems
frequently reprinted under the title of The Pofthumous Works
of Samuel Butler, and as they, beiides, relate particularly to
the hero of that poem whereon our Author's chiefeſt reputa-
tion is built, it is hoped the reader will not be diſpleaſed to
find them fubjoined to theſe Genuine Remains of the celebra-
ted Author of Hudibras, M.
HUDIBRAS'S ELEGY.
213
Would have juft reafon to complain,
If he thou'd chance to rife again;
And therefore to prevent his dudgeon,
In mournful dogg'rel thus we trudge on.
Oh me! what tongue, what pen, can tell
How this renowned champion fell?
But must reflect, alas! alas!
All human glory fades like grafs,
And that the frongeſt martial feats
Of errant knights are all but cheats :
Witneſs our Knight, who fure has done
More valiant actions, ten to one,
Than of More-Hall, the mighty More,
Or him that made the Dragon roar;
IS
10
Has knock'd more men and women dowa
Than Bevis of Southampton town,
25
Or than our modern heroes can,
To take them fingly man by man.
No, fure, the grifly King of terrour
Has been to blame, and in an errour,
To iffue his dead-warrant forth
To feize a knight of ſo much worth,
Juft in the nick of all his glory;
30
I tremble when I tell the ſtory.
Oh! help me, help me, ſome kind Muſe,
35
This furly tyrant to abuſe,
Who, in his rage, has been ſo cruel
To rob the world of ſuch a jewel;
214
HUDIERAS'S ELÉGY.
A knight more learned, ſtout, and good,
Sure ne'er was made of flesh and blood:
All his perfections were fo rare,
The wit of man cou'd not declare
Which fingle virtue, or which grace,
Above the reft had any place,
40
Or which he was moſt famous for,
The camp, the pulpit, or the bar;
Of each he had an equal fpice,
45
And was in all fo
very nice,
That, to fpeak truth, th' account is loft,
In which he did excel the most,
When he forfook the peaceful dwelling,
And out he went a colonelling,
Strange hopes and fears poffeft the nation,
How he cou'd manage that vocation,
Until he fhew'd it to a wonder,
How nobly he could fight and plunder.
At preaching, too, he was a dab,
More exquifite by far than Squab;
He cou'd fetch uſes, and infer,
Without the help of metaphor,
From any Scripture text, howe'er
Remote it from the purpoſe were;
And with his fift, inſtead of a flick,
Beat pulpit, drum ecclefiaftick,
Till he made all the audience weep,
Excepting thoſe that fell aſleep.
30
55
69
65
ļ
HUDIBRAS'S ELEGY.
213
Then at the bar he was right able,
And cou'd bind o'er as well as fwaddle;
And famous, too, at petty feffions,
'Gainit thieves and whores for long digreffions. 70
He cou'd most learnedly determin
To Bridewell, or the flocks, the vermin.
For his addreſs and way of living,
All his behaviour was fo moving,
That let the dame be ne'er fo chafte,
As people ſay, below the wafte,
75
If Hudibras but once come at her,
He'd quickly make her chaps to water:
Then for his equipage and fhape,
On veftals they'd commit a rape,
80
Which often, as the Aory fays,
Have made the ladies weep both ways.
Ill has he read that never heard
How he with widow Tomfon far'd,
And what hard conflict was between
Our Knight and that infulting quean.
Sure captive knight ne'er took more pains,
For rhymes for his melodious ftrains,
Nor beat his brains, or made more faces,
To get into a gilt's good graces,
Than did Sir Hudibras to get
Into this fubtile gipfy's net,
Who, after all her high pretence,
To modefty and innocence,
85
2
216
HUDIBRAS'S ELEGY.
Was thought by moft to be a woman
That to all other knights was common.
Hard was his fate in this I own,
Nor will I for the trapes atone;
Indeed to guefs I am not able,
What made her thus inexorable,
Unlefs fhe did not like his wit,
Or, what is worfe, his perquifite.
Howe'er it was, the wound fhe gave:
The Knight, he carry'd to his grave:
93
ICO
Vile harlot, to destroy a knight
105
That cou'd both plead, and pray, and fight,
Oh! cruel, bafe, inhuman drab,
To give him fuch a mortal ſtab,
That made him pine away and moulder,
As tho' that he had been no foldier:
Couldst thou find no one elfe to kill,
Thou inftrument of death and hell,
But Hudibras, who ftood the Bears
So oft' againſt the Cavaliers,
And in the very heat of war
Took ftout Crowdero prifoner;
And did fuch wonders all along,
That far exceed both pen and tongue?
If he had been in battle flain,
We 'ad had lefs reafon to complain;
But to be murder'd by a whore,
Was ever knight fo ferv'd before?
110
115
170
HUDIBRAS'S EPITAPH.
217
But fince he's gone, all we can fay,
He chanc'd to die a ling'ring way;
If he had liv'd a longer date,
He might, perhaps, have met a fate
More violent, and fitting for
225
A knight fo fam'd in Civil war.
To fum up all, from love and danger
He's now (O! happy Knight) a ſtranger;
130
And if a Muſe can ought foretel,
His fame fhall fill a chronicle,
And he in afterages be,
Of errant knights th' epitome.
134
HUDIBRAS'S EPITAPH,
UNDER this ftone refts Hudibras
A Knight as errant as e'er was;
'The controverfy only lies,
Whether he was more flout than wife;
Nor can we hear pretend to fay,
Whether he beſt cou'd fight or pray;
So till thoſe queſtions are decided,
His virtues muſt reſt undivided.
Full oft' he ſuffer'd bangs and drubs,
And full as oft' took pains in tubs;
Of which the most that can be faid,
He pray'd and fought, and fought and pray'd,
Volume III.
T
fo
218
HUDIBRAS'S EPITAPH.
As for his perfonage and fhape,
Among the reft we'll let them 'fcape;
Nor do we, as things ftand, think fit
This ftone fhould meddle with his wit.
One thing, 't is true, we ought to tell,
He liv'd and dy'd a colonel;
And for the Good old Cauſe ſtood buff,
Gainft many a bitter kick and cuff.
But fince his Worfhip's dead and gone,
And mould'ring lies beneath this ſtone,
The Reader is defir'd to look,
For his achievements in his Book;
Which will preſerve of Knight the Tale,
Till Time and Death itſelf fhall fail.
95
20
26
CONTENTS.
Page
PREFACE,
The Elephant in the Moon,
Ditto, in long verſe,
5
9
28
Ditto, a fragment,
Repartees between Cat and Pufs at a caterwauling,
in the modern heroick way,
To the Hon. Edward Howard, Efq upon his in-
comparable poem of the Britiſh Princes,
49
53
58
A Palinode to the Hon. Edward Howard, Eſq.
upon the fame,
60
A panegyrick upon Sir John Denham's recovery
from his madneſs,
Upon Criticks who judge of modern plays pre-
cifely by the rules of the Ancients,
Prologue to the Queen of Arragon, acted before
the Duke of York, upon his birthday,
Epilogue to the fame. To the Duchefs,
Upon Philip Nye's thankſgiving beard,
Satire upon the weakneſs and mifery of man,
Ditto
upon the licentious age of Charles II.
64
67
71
73
ib.
79
88
Ditto upon gaming,
95
Ditto to a mad poet,
99
Ditto on our ridiculous imitation of the French, 103
Ditto upon drunkenneſs,
1c8
Satire upon marriage,
112
420
CONTENTS.
Page
117
Satire upon plagiaries,
Ditto, in two parts, upon the imperfection and
abuſe of human learning. Part I.
124
Fragments of an intended fecond part of the fore-
going fatire,
134
Upon an hypocritical Nonconformiſt. A Pinda-
rick ode,
145
Upon modern criticks. A Pindarick ode,
355-
To the happy memory of the moſt renowned
Du-Val. A Pindarick ode,
160
A Ballad upon the Parliament which deliberated
about making Oliver King,
168
A ballad in two parts. Conjectured to be on Oli-
ver Cromwell. Part I.
170
Ditto, Part II.
173
Mifcellaneous Thoughts,
176
Triplets upon avarice,
Defcription of Holland,
To his miſtreſs,
To the fame,
Epigram on a club of fots,
Hudibras's elegy,
epitaph,
- 210
ib.
211
ib.
212
ib.
217
From the APOLLO PRESS,
by the MARTINS,
April 24. 1784.
THE END.

BELL'S EDITION.
The POETS of GREAT BRITAIN
COMPLETE, FROM
CHAU CER to CHURCHILL.
ROSCOMMON.
Hai facred Solitude from this calm Bay
I view the World's tempeftuous Sea
Odo upon Solitude
Stadhart del
Delutter Se
London Printed for J. Bell at the British Library, Strand May 161780
THE
POETICAL WORKS
or
WENT. DILLON,
EARL OF ROSCOMMON.
WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.
The Grecians adued verse; their tuneful tougue
Made Nature first, and Nature's God, their song.
………………………..Conqu'ring Rome,
With Grecian spoils, brought Grecian numbers home,
Enrich`d by these Athenian Muses more
Than all the vanquish'd world could yield before.
Britain, last,
In manly sweetness all the rest surpast.
The wit of Greece, the gravity of Rome,
Appear exalted in the British lovm:
The Mises' empire is restor’d agen
In Charle's reig, and by ROSCOMMO\'s pen.
DRYDEN.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR, AND UNDER THE DIRECTION OF,
G. CAWTHORN, BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND.
1797.
THE
POETICAL WORKS
OF
WENTWORTH DILLON,
EARL OF ROSCOMMON.
CONTAINING HIS
MISCELLANIES,
PROLOGUES,
11
TRANSLATIONS,
IMITATIONS,
&c. &c. Sc.
Nor must KOSCOMMUN pass negjećted by,
That makes ev'n Rules a noble poetry;
Rules, whose deep sense and heav'nly numbers show
The best of critics and of poets too.
In all Charles's days
ROSCOMMON only boasts unspotted lays.
ROSCOMMON! not more learn'd than good,
With manners gen'rous as his noble blood;
To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,
And ev'ry author's merit but his own.
ADDISON.
POPE.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR, AND UNDER THE DIRECTION OF,
G. CAWTHORN, BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND.
1797.
THE LIFE
OF
WENTWORTH DILLON,
EARL OF ROSCOMMON.
THIS
His nobleman was son of James Dillon, Earl of
Roscommon, and was born in Ireland during the Lieu-
tenancy of the Earl of Strafford, in the reign of King
Charles I. Lord Strafford was his godfather, and
named him by his own sirname. He passed some of
his first years in his native country, till the Earl of
Strafford imagining, when the rebellion first broke
out, that his father, who had been converted by Arch-
bishop Usher to the Protestant religion, would be ex-
posed to great danger, and be unable to protect his fa-
mily, sent for his godson, and placed him at his own
seat in Yorkshire, under the tuition of Dr. Hall, af-
terwards Bishop of Norwich, by whom he was in-
structed in Latin; and without learning the common
rules of grammar, which he could never retain in his
memory, he attained to write in that language with
classical elegance and propriety, and with so much
ease, that he chose it to correspond with those friends
who had learning sufficient to support the commerce.
When the Earl of Strafford was prosecuted, Lord
Roscommon went to Caen in Normandy, by the ad-
vice of Bishop Usher, to continue his sudies under
Bochart, where he is said to have had an extraordinary
impulse of his father's death, which is related by Mr.
A iij
vi
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
Aubrey in his Miscellany : "Our Author, then a boy
"of about ten years of age, one day was, as it were,
C
madly extravagant in playing, getting over the ta-
❝bles, boards, &c. He was wont to be sober enough.
They who observed him said, God grant this proves
no ill luck to him! In the heat of this extravagant
"fit he cries out, My father is dead! A fortnight
"after news came from Ireland that his father was
"dead. This account I had from Mr. Knowles, who
was his governor, and then with him, since Secre-
tary to the Earl of Strafford, and I have heard his
"Lordship's relations confirm the same.'
The ingenious author of Lord Roscommon's Life,
published in the Gentleman's Magazine for the month
of May 1748, has the following remarks on the above
relation of Aubrey's.
"The present age is very little inclined to favour
"any accounts of this sort, nor will the name of Au-
"brey much recommend it to credit; it ought not,
"however, to be omitted, because better evidence
"of a fact is not easily to be found than is here
"offered, and it must be by preserving such re-
"lations that we may at least judge how much they
are to be regarded. If we stay to examine this ac-
"count, we shall find difficulties on both sides; here
"is a relation of a fact given by a man who had no in-
"terest to deceive himself; and here is, on the other
"hand, a miracle which produces no effect; the or-
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
vii
"der of Nature is interrupted to discover not a future.
"but only a distant event, the knowledge of which is
"of no use to him to whom it is revealed. Between
"these difficulties what way shall be found? Is rea-
r
son or testimony to be rejected? I believe what Os-
"borne says of an appearance of sanctity may be ap-
plied to such impulses or anticipations; " Do not
"wholly slight them, because they may be true; but
"do not easily trust them, because they may be false."
Some years after he travelled to Rome, where he
grew familiar with the most valuable remains of an-
tiquity, applying himself particularly to the know-
ledge of medals, which he gained in great perfection,
and spoke Italian with so much grace and fluency,
that he was frequently mistaken there for a native. He
returned to England upon the restoration of King
Charles II. and was made Captain of the Band of Per-
sioners, an honour which tempted him to some extra-
vagancies. “In the gaieties of that age," says Fenton,
he was tempted to indulge a violent passion for gam-
"ing, by which he frequently hazarded his life in
duels, and exceeded the bounds of a moderate for-
"tune." This was the fate of many other men, whose
genius was of no other advantage to them, than that
it recommended them to employments, or to distinc-
tion, by which the temptations to vice were multi-
plied, and their parts became soon of no other use than
that of enabling them to succeed in debauchery.
viii
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
A dispute about part of his estate obliging him to
return to Ireland, he resigned his post, and, upon his
arrival at Dublin, was made Captain of the Guards to
the Duke of Ormond.
When he was at Dublin, he was as much as ever
distempered with the same fatal affection for play,
which engaged him in one adventure which well de-
serves to be related: "As he returned to his lodgings
"from a gaming-table, he was attacked in the dark
by three ruffians who were employed to assassinate
"him. The Earl defended himself with so much re-
solution, that he dispatched one of the aggressors,
"while a gentleman accidentally passing that way in-
"terposed, and disarmed another; the third secured
C
himself by flight. This generous assistant was a dis-
"banded officer of a good family and fair reputation,
"who, by what we call Partiality of Fortune, to avoid
censuring the iniquities of the times, wanted even
"a plain suit of clothes to make a decent appearance
"at the Castle; but his Lordship, on this occasion,
presenting him to the Duke of Ormond, with great
importunity prevailed with his Grace that he might
"resign his post of Captain of the guards to his friend,
"which for about three years the gentleman enjoyed,
"and, upon his death, the Duke returned the com-
"mission to his generous benefactor."*
His Lordship having finished his affairs in Ireland,
he returned to London, was made Master of the Horse
* Fenton.
LIFF OF ROSCOMMON.
ix
to the Duchess of York, and married the Lady Fran-
ccs, eldest daughter of the Earl of Burlington, and
widow of Colonel Courtnay.
"About this time, in imitation of those learned and
polite assemblies with which he had been acquainted
abroad, particularly one at Caen, (in which his tutor
Bochart died suddenly while he was delivering an
oration) he began to form a society for refining and
fixing the standard of our language. In this design
his great friend Mr. Dryden was a particular assistant;
"A design," says Fenton, "of which it is much
more easy to conceive an agreeable idea than any
❝ration 1 hope ever to see it brought to perfection.”
This excellent design was again set on foot under the
ministry of the Earl of Oxford, and was again defeated
by a conflict of parties, and the necessity of attending
only to political disquisitions for defending the con-
duct of the administration, and forming parties in the
parliament. Since that time it has never been men-
tioned, either because it has been hitherto a sufficient
objection that it was one of the designs of the Earl of
Oxford, by whom Godolphin was defeated, or because
the statesmen who succeeded him have not more lei-
sure, and perhaps less taste, for literary improvements,
Lord Roscommon's attempts were frustrated by the
commotions which were produced by King James's
endeavours to introduce alterations in religion. He
resolved to retire to Rome, alleging, "it was best to
X
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
"sit next the chimney when the chamber smoked."
It will no doubt surprise many of the present age,
and be a just cause of triumph to them, if they find
what Roscommon and Oxford attempted in vain, car-
ried into execution, in the most masterly manner, by
a private gentleman, unassisted and unpensioned. The
world has seen this from the publication of an English
Dictionary by Mr. Johnson; a lasting monument of
the nation's honour and that writer's merit.
Lord Roscommon's intended retreat into Italy, al-
ready mentioned, on account of the troubles in James.
II's reign, was prevented by the gout, of which he was
so impatient, that he admitted a repellent application
from a French empyric, by which his distemper was
driven up into his bowels, and put an end to his life in
1684.
Mr. Fenton has told us, that the moment in which
he expired he cried out, with a voice that expressed the
most intense fervour of devotion,
My God! my Father, and my Friend!
Do not forsake me at my end!
two lines of his own version of the Hymn, Dies Ira,
Dies Ila.
The same Mr. Fenton, in his notes upon Waller,
has given Roscommon a character too general to be
critically just. "In his writings," says he, we view
"the image of a mind which was naturally serious and
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
xi
"solid, richly furnished and adorned with all the or-
"naments of art and science, and those ornaments un-
affectedly disposed in the most regular and elegant
"order. His imagination might have probably been
"fruitful and sprightly, if his judgment had been less
"severe; but that severity (delivered in a masculine,
"clear, succinct style) contributed to make him so
"eminent in the didactical manner, that no man with
"justice can affirm he was ever equalled by any of
our nation, without confessing at the same time
"that he is inferior to none. In some other kinds of
"writing his genius seems to have wanted fire to at-
"tain the point of perfection: but who can attain it ?”
From this account of the riches of his mind, who
would not imagine that they had been displayed in large
volumes and numerous performances? Who would
not, after the perusal of this character, be surprised to
find that all the proofs of this genius, and knowledge
and judgment, are hardly sufficient to form a small
volume? But thus it is that characters are generally
written; we know somewhat, and we imagine the rest.
The observation, that his imagination would have
probably been more fruitful and sprightly if his judg-
ment had been less severe, might, if we were inclined
to cavil, be answered by a contrary supposition, that
his judgment would have been less severe if his ima-
gination had been more fruitful: it is ridiculous to op-
pose judgment and imagination to each other, for it
xii
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
*
does not appear that men have necessarily less of the
one as they have more of the other.
We must allow in favour of Lord Roscommon what
Fenton has not mentioned so distinctly as he ought,
and what is yet very much to his honour, that he is,
perhaps, the only correct writer in verse before Addi-
son; and that if there are not so many beauties in his
compositions as in those of some of his contemporaries,
there are at least fewer faults. Nor is this his highest
praise; for Mr. Pope has celebrated him as the only
moral writer in Charles II.'s reign.
Unhappy Dryden!---In all Charles's days
"Roscommon only boasts unspotted lays."
Mr. Dryden, speaking of Roscommon's Essay on
Translated Verse, has the following observation; "It
was that," says he, "that made me uneasy till I
"tried whether or no I was capable of following his
rules, and of reducing the speculatiou into practice:
<for
for many a fair precept in poetry is like a seeming
"demonstration in mathematics, very specious in the
diagram, but failing in mechanic operation. I think
* I have, generally, observed his instructions: I am
sure my reason is sufficiently convinced both of their
truth and usefulness, which, in other words, is to
"confess no less a vanity than to pretend that I have at
"least in some places made examples to his rules."
*
This declaration of Dryden will be found no more
than one of those cursory civilities which one author
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
XIII
pays to another, and that kind of compliment for
which Dryden was remarkable: for when the sum of
Lord Roscommon's precepts is collected, it will not
be easy to discover how they can qualify their reader
for a better performance of translation than might have
been attained by his own reflections.
He that can abstract his mind from the elegance of
the poetry, and confine it to the sense of the precepts,
will find no other direction, than that the author should
be suitable to the translator's genius; that he should
be such as may deserve a translation; that he who in-
tends to translate him should endeavour to understand
him; that perspicuity should be studied, and unusual
and uncouth names sparingly inserted, and that the
style of the original should be copied in its elevation
and depression. These are the rules that are celebrated
as so definite and important, and for the delivery of
which to mankind so much honour has been paid. Ros-
common has indeed deserved his praises, had they been
given with discernment, and bestowed not on the rules
themselves, but the art with which they are introduced,
and the decorations with which they are adorned.
The Essay, though generally excellent, is not with-
out its faults. The story of the quack, borrowed from
Boileau, was not worth the importation: he has con-
founded the British and Saxon mythology:
"I grant that from some mossy idol oak,
"In double rhymes, our Thor and Woden spoke."
B
xiv
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
The oak, as Gildon has observed, belonged to the Bri-
tish druids, and Thor and Woden were Saxon deities.
Of the double rhymes, which he so liberally supposes,
he certainly had no knowledge.
His interposition of a long paragraph of blank verses
is unwarrantably licentious. Latin poets might as well
have introduced a series of iambics among their heroics.
His next work is the translation of the Art of Poetry,
which has perhaps received not lest praise than it de-
serves. Blank verse, left merely to its numbers, has
little operation either on the ear or mind; it can hardly
support itself without bold figures and striking images.
A poem frigidly didactic, without rhyme, is so near to
prose, that the reader only scorns it for pretending to
be verse.
Having disentangled himself from the difficulties of
rhyme, he may justly be expected to give the sense of
Horace with great exactness, and to suppress no sub-
tilty of sentiment for the difficulty of expressing it:
this demand, however, his translation will not satisfy:
what he found obscure it is not obvious that he has ever
cleared.
Among his smaller works, the Eclogue of Virgil and
the Dies Ira are well translated; though the best line
in the Dies Ira is borrowed from Dryden. In return,
succeeding poets have borrowed from Roscommon.
In the verses on the Lap-dog, the pronouns thou and
you are offensively confounded; and the turn at the end
is from Waller.
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
XV
His versions of the two Odes of Horace are made
with great liberty, which is not recompensed by much
elegance orvigour.
His political verses are sprightly, and when they
were written must have bee: very popular.
Of the scene of Guarini, and the prologue to Pom-
pey, Mrs. Philips, in her letters to Sir Charles Cotte-
rel, has given the history.
is certainly one
"Lord Roscommon," says she,
"of the most promising young noblemen in Ireland.
"He has paraphrased a psalm admirably, and a scene
"of Pastor F do very finely, in some places much better
* than Sir Richard Fanshaw. This was undertaken
" merely in compliment to me, who happened to say,
"that it was the best scene in Italian, and the worst
"in English. He was only two hours about it. It
begins thus:
"Dear happy groves! and you, the dark retreat
"Of silent Horror, Rest's eternal seat."
From these lines, which are since somewhat mend-
ed, it appears that he did not think a work of two hours
fit to endure the eye of criticism without revisal.
When Mrs. Philips was in Ireland, some ladies that
had seen her translation of Pompey, resolved to bring
it on the stage at Dublin; and, to promote their de-
sign, Lord Roscommon gave them a prologue, and
Sir Edward Dering an epilogue; "which," says she,
"are the best performances of those kinds I ever saw.”
Bij
xvi
LIFE OF ROSCOMMON.
If this is not criticism it is at least gratitude. The
thought of bringing Cæsar and Pompey into Ireland,
the only country over which Cæsar never had any
power, is lucky.
Of Roscommon's works the judgment of the public
scems to be right. He is elegant, but not great; he
never labours after exquisite beauties, and he seldom
falls into gross faults. His versification is smooth, but
rarely vigorous, and his rhymes are remarkably exact.
He improved taste, if he did not enlarge knowledge; and
may be numbered among the benefactors to English
literature.
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
TO THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON,
ON HIS EXCELLENT
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
WHETHER the fruitful Nile or Tyrian shore
The seeds of arts and infant science bore,
'Tis sure the noble plant translated first
Advanc'd its head in Grecian gardens nurst.
The Grecians added verse; their tuneful tongue
Made Nature first, and Nature's God, their song.
Nor stopp'd Translation here; for conqu'ring Rome,
With Grecian spoils, brought Grecian numbers home,
Enrich'd by those Athenian Muses more
Than all the vanquish'd world could yield before,
'Till barb'rous nations and more barb'rous times
Debas'd the majesty of verse to rhymes,
Those rude at first, a kind of hobbling prose,
That limp'd along, and tinkled in the close;
But Italy reviving from the trance
Of Vandal, Goth, and Monkish ignorance,
With pauses, cadence, and well-vowell'd words,
And all the graces a good ear affords,
10
B iij
xviii
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Made rhyme an art, and Dante's polish'd page
Restor❜d a Silver not a Golden Age :
Then Petrarch follow'd, and in him we see
What rhyme improv'd in all its hight can be;
At best a pleasing sound and fair barbarity.
The French pursu'd their steps, and Britain, last,
In manly sweetness all the rest surpast.
The wit of Greece, the gravity of Rome,
Appear exalted in the British loom:
The Muses' empire is restor❜d agen
In Charles's reign, and by Roscommon's pen.
Yet modestly he does his work survey,
And calls a finish'd poem An Essay:
For all the needful rules are scatter'd here,
Truth smoothly told, and pleasantly severe;
(So well is Art disguis'd for Nature to appear.)
Nor need those rules to give Translation light,
His own example is a flame so bright,
That he who but arrives to copy well
20
30
40
Unguided will advance, unknow'ng will excel:
Scarce his own Horace could such rules ordain,
Or his own Virgil sing a nobler strain.
How much in him may rising Ireland boast!
How much in gaining him has Britain lost!
Their Ireland in revenge has our's reclaim'd;
The more instructed we, the more we still are sham'd
'Tis well for us his gen'rous blood did flow
Deriv'd from British channels long ago;
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
xix
That here his conqu'ring ancestors were nurst,
And Ireland but translated England first.
By this reprisal we regain our right,
Else must the two contending nations fight;
A nobler quarrel for his native earth
50
Than what divided Greece for Homer's birth.
To what perfection will our tongue arrive,
How will Invention and Translation thrive,
When authors nobly born will bear their part,
And not disdain th' inglorious praise of art!
Great gen'rals thus descending from command,
With their own toil provoke the soldier's hand.
How will sweet Ovid's ghost be pleas'd to hear
His fame augmented by an English peer,
How he embellishes his Helen's loves,
Out-does his softness, and his sense improves ?
When these translate, and teach translators too,
Nor firstling kid nor any vulgar vow
60
Should at Apollo's grateful altar stand;
Roscommon writes! to that auspicious hand,
Muse! feed the bull that spurns the yellow sand.
Roscommon! whom both court and camps commend,
True to his prince, and faithful to his friend;
Roscommon! first in fields of honour known,
First in the peaceful triumphs of the gown,
Who both Minervas justly makes his own.
* The Earl of Mulgrave.
70
XX
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Now let the few belov'd by Jove, and they
Whom infus'd Titan form'd of better clay,
On equal terms with ancient Wit engage,
Nor mighty Homer fear, nor sacred Virgil's page;
Our English palace opens wide in state,
And without stooping they may pass the gate.
78
JOHN DRYDEN.
AD ILLUSTRISSIMUM VIRUM
DOM. COMIT. DE ROSCOMMON,
In tentamen suum sive specimen de Poetis Transferendis.
Carmen encomiasticon.
ANGLIA si claris pollet fæcunda poetis
Mundo præreptos jactans in pace triumphos;
Pallada nutrivit si non minus ubere glebâ;
Augusto quam magna tulit sub Cæsare Roma;
Hoc tibi debeter comes illustrissime secli:
Nam postquam per te patuit, populoque refulsit
Ars flacci, vatum surrexit vivida proles,
Divinus instructa modis et carmine puro.
Jam non sola sequi vestigia sacra Maronis
Sed transferre datur: vos O gaudete superbi
Angligenæ, meritisque virum redimite corollis
Quem penes arbitrium est et jus et norma loquendi.
Nam duce te vatum series æterna sequetur,
Qui tentare modos ausi immortalis Homeri,
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
xxi
Heroasque, deosque canent, plausuque secundo
Non male ceratis tendent super æthera pennis.
Et tua, docte Maro (ni fallor) carmina reddent
Majestate pari; dum læta vagaberis umbra
Per sacrum spatiata nemus: versuque Britanno
Æneadas mirata cani, bellumque, ducesque,
Et pastoris oves, his vocibus ora resolves.
Quam bene te poterain patulis amplectier ulnis,
Magne comes, nostræ O famæ defensor et hæres !
Nunc licet infulsi vertant mea scripta poetæ,
Mollior ac elegis Ovidi sonet Ilias, ausit
Mævius infælix calamo disperdere versus,
Cuncta piat Silenus, et haud imitabile carmen
Prima quod infantis cecinit cunabula mundi,
Durabit, famamque per omne tuebitur ævum.
randibus ille modis et mirâ pingitur arte:
'er te, dulce decus, nostri viget ille laboris
Relliquiæ, multum celebrandus in orbe Britanno.
Tu genio da fræna tuo, nec voce beatam
Hâc tristere animam---cape dona extrema tuorum.
Carmina adhuc cineri exequias persolve Maronis.
Pulchrior in tantâ splendet mea gloria Musâ.
Plurimus Angligenum manibus versabere, plebi
Sordebunt excusa ducum simulacra tabellis;
Te melius vivo pingentem carmine cernent.
Dum Translatorum sudant ignobile vulgus,
Ut captent oculos phaleris, et imagine falsâ
20
30
49
Xxii
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Lactent lectorem, et vanâ dulcedine pascant;
Me mihi restituis versu, sensusque latentes
Eruis, et duplicem reddit tua charte Maronem.
E. Collegio S. S. et in-
dividuæ Trin. Cant.
44
CAROLUS DRYDEN,
TO THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON,
ON HIS EXCELLENT POEM,
As when by lab'ring stars new kingdoms rise,
The mighty mass in rude confusion lies,
A court unform'd, disorder'd at the bar,
And ev'n in peace the rugged mien of war,
'Till some wise statesman into method draws
The parts, and animates the frame with laws;
Such was the case when Chaucer's early toil
Founded the Muses' empire in our soil.
Spenser improv'd it with his painful hand,
But lost a noble Muse in Fairy-land.
Shakspeare said all that Nature could impart,
And Johnson added industry and art.
Cowley and Denham gain'd immorial praise;
And some, who merit as they wear the bays,
Search'd all the treasuries of Greece and Rome,
And brought the precious spoils in triumph home.
But still our language had some ancient rust,
Our flights were often high, but seldom just;
There wanted one who license could restrain,
Make civil laws o'er barb'rous usage reign;
10
20
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
xxiii
Ore worthy in Apollo's chair to sit,
To hold the scales, and give the stamp of wit;
In whom ripe judgment and young fancy meet,
And force the poet's rage to be discreet;
Who grows not nauseous whilst he strives to please,
But marks the shelves in the poetic seas;
Who knows and teaches what our clime can bear,
And makes the barren ground obey the lab'rer's care.
Few could conceive, none the great work could do ;
'Tis a fresh province, and reserv'd for you.
Those talents all are your's, of which but one
Were a fair fortune for a Muse's son;
Wit, reading, judgment, conversation, art,
A head well-balanc'd, and a gen'rous heart.
While insect rhymes cloud the polluted sky,
Created to molest the world and die,
Your file does polish what your fancy cast;
Works are long forming which must always last.
Rough iron sense, and stubborn to the mould,
Touch'd by your chymic hand is turn'd to gold;
A secret grace fashions the flowing lines,
And inspiration thro' the labour shines.
Writers, in spite of all their paint and art,
Betray the darling passion of their heart:
No fame you wound, give no chaste ears offence;
Still true to friendship, modesty, and sense.
So saints from heav'n, for our example sent,
Live to their rules, having nothing to repent.
30
40
xxiv
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Horace, if living, by exchange of fate,
Would give no laws, but only your's translate.
Hoist sail, bold Writers! search, discover far,
You have a compass for a polar star :
Tune Orpheus' harp, and with enchanting rhymes
Soften the savage humour of the times.
Tell all those untouch'd wonders which appear'd
When Fate itself for our great monarch fear'd,
Securely thro' the dang'rous forest led
By guards of angels, when his own were fled:
Heav'n kindly exercis'd his youth with cares,
To crown with unmix'djoys his riper years.
Make warlike James's peaceful virtues known,
The secoud hope and genius of the throne:
Heav'n in compassion brought him on our stage
To tame the fury of a monstrous age.
But what bless'd voice shall your Maria sing,
Or a fit off'ring to her altars bring?
In joys, in grief, in triumphs, in retreat,
Great always, without aiming to be great.
Beauty and Love sit awful in her face,
And ev'ry gesture form'd by ev'ry Grace.
Her glories are too heav'nly and refin'd
For the gross senses of a vulgar mind.
It is your part (you poets can divine)
To prophesy how she, by Heavn's design,
Shall give an heir to the great British line,
50
бо
70
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
XXV
Who over all the Western isles shall reign,
Both awe the continent and rule the main :
It is your place to wait upon her name
Thro' the vast regions of eternal faine.
True poets' souls to princes are ally'd,
And the world's empire with its kings divide.
Heav'n trusts the present time to monarchs' care,
Eternity is the good writer's share.
80
83
KNIGHTLY CHETWOOD.
TO THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON,
ON HIS EXCELLENT
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
WHILE satire pleas'd, and nothing else was writ,
But pure ill-nature pass'd for noblest wit,
Some privileg'd climes the pois'nous weeds refuse;
But when a gen'rous understanding Muse
Does richer fruits from happier soils translate,
We're sent to Ireland by reverse of fate ;
Yet you, I know, with Plato would disdain
To write and equal the Mæonian strain,
If 'twould debauch your humour so far forth
To think so mean a thing enhanc'd your worth:
For were that praise, and only that, your due,
Which Virgil too might claim no less than you,
C
10
xxvi
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Tho' that had merited my bare esteem,
I'd leave to other pens the single theme:
But when I saw the candour of your mind,
A Muse inur'd to camps, in courts refin'd,
A soul ev'n capable of being a friend,
Free from those follies which the great attend,
I grant such excellence my soul did fire;
Unable to commend, I will admire.
"Happy the man when no concern is nigh,
But Nature's wanton and his blood runs high,
"Who, free from cares, enjoys without controul
"His Muse, the darling mistress of his soul!
"No tedious court his appetite destroys,
"Nor thoughts of gain pollute the rapt'rous joys;
“The dear Minerva's form'd without a pain,
"And nothing less could spring from such a brain;
"And yet his godlike pity he imparts
"To those that drudge at duty 'gainst their hearts,
"And to illib'ral uses wrest the lib'ral arts'.
When I observe the wonders you explain,
Too much the Ancients you commend---in vain;
In vain you would endeavour to persuade
That all our laws were in those archives laid;
That poetry must ever stand unmov'd,
The only art experience han't improv’d.
But grant their rites were to religion grown,
Sure they concern no countries but their own;
20
FOEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
xxvii
For let
neid pass thro' other's hands,
The Eneid's self a third-rate poet stands ;
Unfit to reach the heights that he has flown,
We wisely to our level bring him down:
Himself had writ less sweet and less sublime
In any other tongue or other time.
And now, my Lord, on this account I grieve,
To think how diff'rent from yourself you'll live.
When this inimitable Piece is shown
In languages and empires yet unknown,
It will be learning then to know and hear
Not only what you wrote but what you were.
J. AMHERST.
UPON THE
EARL OF ROSCOMMON'S
TRANSLATION OF HORACE DE ARTE POETICA,
ROME
And of the Use of Poetry.
CME was not better by her Horace taught,
Than we are here to comprehend his thought:
The poet writ to noble Piso there;
A noble Piso does instruct us here;
Gives us a pattern in his flowing style,
And with rich precepts does oblige our isle:
Britain! whose genius is in verse express'd
Bold and sublime, but negligently dress'd.
cij
xxviii
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Horace will our superfluous branches prune,
Give us new rules, and set our harp in tune;
Direct us how to back the winged horse,
Favour his flight, and moderate his force.
Tho' poets may of inspiration boast,
Their rage, ill-govern'd, in the clouds is lost.
He that proportion'd wonders can disclose,
At once his fancy and his judgment shows.
Chaste moral writing we may learn from hence,
Neglect of which no wit can recompense.
The fountain which from Helicon proceeds,
That sacred stream! should never water weeds,
Nor make the crop of thorns and thistles grow,
Which envy or perverted nature sow.
Well-sounding verses are the charm we use,
Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse :
Things of deep sense we may in prose unfold,
But they move more in lofty numbers told.
By the loud trumpet, which our courage aids,
We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades.
The Muse's friend, unto himself severe,
With silent pity looks on all that err;
But where a brave, a public action shines,
That he rewards with his immortal lines.
Whether it be in council or in fight,
His country's honour is his chief delight;
Praise of great acts he scatters as a seed
Which may the like in coming ages breed.
10
20
30
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
xxix
Here taught the fate of verses, (always priz'd
With admiration, or as much despis'd)
Men will be less indulgent to their faults,
And patience have to cultivate their thoughts.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got,
Could it be known what they discreetly blot,
Finding new words, that to the ravish'd ear
May like the language of the Gods appear,
Such as, of old, wise bards employ'd, to make
Unpolish'd men their wild retreats forsake:
Law-giving heroes, fam'd for taming brutes,
And raising cities with their charming lutes:
Forrudest minds with harmony were caught,
And civil life was by the Muses taught.
So wand'ring bees would perish in the air,
Did not a sound, proportion'd to their ear,
Appease their rage, invite them to the hive,
Unite their force, and teach them how to thrive:
To rob the flow'rs, and to forbear the spoil,
Preserv'd in winter by their summer's toil,
They give us food which may with nectar vie,
And wax that does the absent sun supply.
50
EDMUND WALLER.
40
Ciij
XXX
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
Cum Opus suum Manuscriptum, una cum eleganti Carmine
Latino sibi mitteret illustrissimus Author, ita respondit de-
votissimus suus, K. C.
AULA dulce decus, quem culta Britannia vellet,
Scotia seque sibi vix peperisse putat;
Quid, mihi dum nunquam peritura volumina mittis,
Me, nisi mirari, dulcis amice, velis?
Scripta tua in melius qui fingere possit, Apellis
Is venerem, Phidiæ possit et ille Jovem :
Consilio ille juvet miscentem elementa tonantem,
Rectius et soli scribere possit iter.
Res sancta est, surgens vestra ad fastigia, vates,
Cui præsens semper pectora numen habet.
Quantum est victuris victuras condere leges,
In litem lauros et revocare novam!
Extinctis vitam dare res est quanta! sed ipse
Quantus! pars minima est Musa diserta tui.
MISCELL ANIES
AN ESSAY
ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
HAPPY that author whose correct Essay
Repairs so well our old Horatian way;
And happy you who, by propitious fate,
On great Apollo's sacred standard wait,
And with strict discipline instructed right,
Have learn'd to use your arms before you fight.
TENTAMEN, SIVE SPECIMEN
DE POETIS TRANSFERENDIS LATINE REDDITUM. †
FELIX ille operis, digno qui carmine leges
Restituit, sacræ quas fixit Horatias arti.
Vos quoque felices, quibus indulgentia fati
Militiam tanto primam tolerare magistro,
Vexillumque dedit sacratum attollere Phoebi.
Egregiè instructi miris ducis artibuş, arma
* John Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire.
This Latin version of Lord Roscommon's Essay
on Translated Verse is by the late Mr. Eusden of
Cambridge.
32
MISCELLANIES.
But since the press, the pulpit, and the stage,
Conspire to censure and expose our age,
Provok'd too far, we resolutely must
To the few virtues that we have be just;
For who have long'd, or who have labour'd more
To search the treasures of the Roman store,
Or dig in Grecian mines for purer ore?
The noblest fruits transplanted in our isle,
With early hope and fragrant blossoms smile.
Familiar Ovid tender thoughts inspires,
And Nature seconds all his soft desires.
Theocritus does now to us belong,
And Albion's rocks repeat his rural song.
Exercere prius nostris, quàm at prælia ventum est.
At nunc cùm prælium, cùm pulpita, cumq; theatra
Stultitiam sæc'li rident, et stultiùs augent,
Sæpe lacessitis sumenda audacia; nobis
Virtutes paucæ; fas sit defendere paucas.
Qui nostris cupidi magis, aut qui plurà ferendo
Certârunt vastas Romæ perquirere gazas,
Purius aut Graiis aurum exhaurire fodinis ?
Translatus nostris fructus pulcherrimus oris
Spes det maturas, et amanis floribus halat.
Dulcè fluens Naso teneros inspirat amores,
Et quodcunque petit, sequitur natura petentem.
Nostra Syracosium referunt jam carmina va ein,
Illius agrestem rupes sonat Anglica Musam.
10
10
20
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
33
Who has not heard how Italy was blest
Above the Medes, above the wealthy East?
Or Gallus' song, so tender and so true,
As ev'n Lycoris might with pity view.
20
When mourning nymphs attend their Daphne's hearse,
Who does not weep that reads the moving verse?
But hear, oh! hear, in what exalted strains
Sicilian Muses thro' these happy plains
Proclaim Saturnian times---our own Apollo reigns!
When France had breath'd, after intestine broils,
And peace and conquest crown'd her foreign toils, 30
There, cultivated by a royal hand,
Learning grew fast, and spread, and bless'd the land;
Quis nescit, quanto felicior Itala tellus
Medorum sylvis, gemmisque Oriente superbo?
Aut quæ cantavit Gallus molissima, cantus
Redditur en! qualem immoto nec corde Lycoris
Ipsa legat: vel cùm lugent tua funera, Daphni,
Nymphæ, quis siccis lugentes cernat ocellis?
En! vero numeris en! quàm sublimibus arva
Fortunata per
hæc siculæ Saturnia Musæ
Tempora jam resonant; noster jam regnat Apollo.
Libera civili requiescere Gallia bello
Ut cæpit, pacemque domi palmasque labores
Externi peperere, illic doctrina vigebat
Regali nutrita manu, latèque beabat
30
3.4
MISCELLANIES,
The choicest books that Rome or Greece have known,
Her excellent translators made her own;
And Europe still considerably gains
Both by their good example and their pains.
From hence our gen'rous emulation came,
We undertook, and we perform'd, the same.
But now we shew the world a nobler way,
And in Translated Verse do more than they;
Serene and clear harmonious Horace flows,
With sweetness not to be express'd in prose;
Degrading prose explains his meaning ill,
And shews the stuff, but not the workman's skill:
Omnia diffundens sese: tum Græcia quicquid,
Aut quicquid Latium jactaret amabile, solers,
Dum dignè vertit, proprium sibi Gallia fecit.
Et quod adhuc nostro, tu jure fateberis, orbi
Multùm operæ illius, multùm exemplaria prosint.
Kinc ille illustris nobis, hinc æmulus ardor;
Rem libuit tentare, et quæ tentata placebat,
Sortita eventum votis successit amicè.
At nunc nobilior monstratur semita, verso
Carmine præstamus nos, quod nec Gallia præstet.
Hic, numerose, nites sine nube serenus, Horati,
Nil perit hic, numeris et iisdem redderis idem.
Vim nemo hanc dulcem speret sermone soluto.
Vulgaris sermo vatis nudè edere sensum
Iste valet; tibi materiam, non explicat ingens
4
40
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
35
I, who have serv'd him more than twenty years,
Scarce know my master as he there appears.
50
Vain are our neighbour's hopes, and vain their cares;
The fault is more their language's than theirs:
'Tis courtly, florid, and abounds in words
Of softer sound than our's perhaps affords;
But who did ever in French authors see
The comprehensive English energy?
The weighty bullion of one sterling line,
Drawn to French-wire, would through whole pages
I speak my private but impartial sense
With freedom, and, I hope, without offence;
For I'll recant when France can shew me wit
As strong as ours, and as succinctly writ.
[shine.
Artis opus colui multos quem sedulus annos
Ipse ego, qualis ibi legitur mutatus in ora
Plane aliena, meum jam vix agnosco magistrum.
Frustrà finitimi tendunt, frustraque laborant,
Des linguæ vitio, haud illis: hæc culta videtur,
Florida, verborumque ferax, quæ fortè tencllas
Titillent leviore sono, quàm possumus, aures.
Esto; at quis nobis ostendat Gallicus autor
Angliacæ nervos simul, et compendia linguæ ?
Carminis unius nitidus cum pondere sensus
Deductus tenui per tota poëmata filo
Ornaret Gallos: quæ sit sententia nobis
50
60
36
MISCELLANIES.
'Tis true, composing is the nobler part,
But good Translation is no easy art;
For tho' materials have long since been found,
Yet both your fancy and your hands are bound;
And, by improving what was writ before,
Invention labours less, but judgment more.
The soil intended for Pierian seeds,
Must be well purg'd from rank pedantic weeds.
Apollo starts, and all Parnassus shakes
At the rude rumbling Baralipton makes:
(Æqua licèt privata) libet veram edere apertè,
Nec cuiquam nocuisse velim, nam dicta retracto,
Si brevitate pari sensus includere nôrint
Tam crebros, acresque, et molli stringere nodo.
Pulchrior illa quidem est fæcundo pectore primùm
Rem tibi vis promens, felicique ubere vena,
60
Sed genio haud caret et bene vertere; nam tibi quamvis
Tradita materies aliunde hæc suppetat, extrà
Libera non ponis vestigia, cogeris arcto
Limite, dum circa patulum versaberis orbem:
Dumque studes augere, tibi quæ tradita res est,
Quò minùs ingenium hic sudat, fæcundaque vena,
Tantò judicii magis exercetur acumen.
Exossare solum, cui semen credere tendis
Pierium, saxis primùm salebrisque decebit,
Vellere er urticas criticorum turpiter hirtas,
Avertit Phoebus, trepidat Parnassia rupes,
70
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
37
For none have been with admiration read,
But who, beside their learning, were well bred.
The first great work (a task perform'd by few)
Is, that yourself may to yourself be true:
No mask, no tricks, no favour, no reserve;
Dissect your mind, examine ev'ry nerve.
Whoever vainly on his strength depends,
Begins like Virgil, but like Mævius ends.
That wretch, in spite of his forgotten rhymes,
Condemn'd to live to all succeeding times,
With pompous nonsense, and a bellowing sound,
Sung lofty Ilium tumbling to the ground.
Cùm strepitu horrisono Baralipton vulnerat aures.
Dignus nemo legi, atque diu retinere legentes,
Ni bene moratas doctus qui possidet artes.
Difficilis labor, et paucis superabilis hic est;
Fallere te ut nolis ipsum: procul absit iniqua
Gratia, sperne dolos, probitas spectetur, et imas
Pande animi latebras, atque omnes excute nervos.
Qui vanè propriis confidere viribus audet,
Prodeat ille Maro forsan, sed Mævius exit;
Infelix! cujus, postquam data carmina scombris,
Damnatur vita post scripta superstite nomen,
Pænam immortalem mortali ex carmine pendens
Is tumidis ruptus buccis, vacuoque böatu
Torva Mimalloneis implevit cornua bombis.
D
70
80
80
go
38
MISCELLANIES.
And (if my Muse can thro' past ages see)
That noisy, nauseous, gaping fool was he,
Exploded when with universal scorn
The mountains labour'd, and a mouse was born.
Learn, learn," Crotona's brawny wrestler cries,
"Audacious mortals! and be timely wise;
•
'Tis 1 that call; remember Milo's end,
"Wedg'd in that timber which he strove to rend.”
Each poet with a diff'rent talent writes
One praises, one instructs, another bites.
Horace did ne'er aspire to epic bays,
Nor lofty Maro stoop to lyric lays.
Si bene lapsa memor repetat mihi sæcula Musa,
Mævius ille fuit vano promissor hiatu
90
Contemptus meritô, cùm parturientibus altis
Montibus, (horrendum!)---mox prodiit exiguus mus.
Discite, jam magnâ conclamans voce per umbras
Ille lacertosus, clarus pugil ille Crotonis,
Milo jubet sua fata docens, temerarius olim.
Viribus ip e suis nodosum in robur adactus,
Findere quod primò nimis est feliciter ausus.
Diversi scribunt diverso numine vates,
Laudibus hic pollet, sallibus tu, moribus alter.
Non epicas ausus Flaccus sibi poscere lauros,
Ipse nec ad lyricum celsus descendere carmen
Dignatus Maro. Tu, quà mens iter ipsa frequentat,
100
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
39
Examine how your humour is inclin'd,
And which the ruling passion of your mind;
Then seek a poet who your way does bend,
And chuse an author as you chuse a friend;
United by this sympathetic bond,
You grow familiar, intimate, and fond;
Your thoughts, your words, your styles, your souls,
No longer his interpreter, but he.
[agree
With how much ease is a young Muse betray'd!
How nice the reputation of the maid!
Your early, kind, paternal care appears,
By chaste instruction of her tender years :
The first impression in her infant breast
Will be the deepest, and should be the best.
Quæ primùm, explores, rapit ultrò pectora flamma.
Tum tibi cognatum, qui tramite vergit eodem,
Autoremque legas, tanquam legeretur amicus.
Dumque pari stringunt vos vincula mutua nexu,
Mirus erit consensus, amabis, amaberis idem;
Mens eadem, similis sententia, vox, et utrique,
Interpres jam tu non illius, alter at ille.
Circumstant cunas quàm prona pericula Musæ
Virginis! intactæ quàm lubrica fama puellæ !
Commendat sese patris indulgentia primùm,
Molle lutum casto si fingas pollice: forma
Vultus prima manet, fingatur et optima prima,
102
IIQ
Dij
40
MISCELLANIES.
Let not austerity breed servile for,
No wanton sound offend her virgin car:
Secure from foolish Pride's affected state,
And specious flatt'ry's more pernicious bait,
Habitual innocence adorns her thoughts,
But your neglect must answer for her faults.
Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.
IIO
What mod'rate fp would rake the Park or stews,
Who among troops of faultless nymphs may chuse ?
Ne premat ingenium, libertatemque decoram
Austeri servus timor, imperiumque magistri;
Nec verba intereà violent lasciva pudicam:
Non illa ætatis ventoso turgida fastu
Addicat pronas assentatoribus aures,
120
Nec nimis illa procis pateat laudantibus ultrô;
Sic decor ingenuus mentem huic sine fraudibus ornet,
Sed culpa arguitur tua siquid nescia peccat.
Fas nunquam obscænis veniam concedere dictis,
Communi sensu planè caret horridus ille,
Quid deceat, quid non, pravè, aut securus ineptè.
Ecquis enim sapiens mediocriter, usque profusus
Eris, et usque adeò nugator splendidus, inter 139
Libera cui nymphas commercia dentur honestas,
Solicitare velit plebem et de fæce lupanar?
Ergò tuum eligere est dignè, cùm suppetat ingens,
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
41
Variety of such is to be found;
Take then a subject proper to expound,
But moral great, and worth a poet's voice;
For men of sense despise a trivial choice;
And such applause it must expect to meet
As would some painter busy in a street
To copy bulls and bears, and ev'ry sign
That calls the ståring sots to nasty wine,
Yet 'tis not all to have a subject good;
It must delight us when 'tis understood.
He that brings fulsome objects to my view,
(As many old have done, and many new)
With nauseous images any fancy fills,
And all goes down like oxymel of squills.
Dignaque materies, et rerum copia prægnans,
Quam vertas etiam dignè quæ viribus apta est;
Sit grandis, magnùmque sonans, morataque rectè,
Materiem sapiens sectantes spernit inanem ;
Hi sperent plausus, quales per compita pictor
Excipit ille, artis qui stultæ prodigus ursos,
Exprimit, et tauros, et siquod pensile signum
Attonito ad vappæ fæces trahit ore popellum.
Nec tamen hoc satis est sic elegisse potenter
Materiem, nisi et hæc demum intellecta placebit.
Objicit ante oculos mihi qui deformia visu,
(Quod multi e priscis, inulti fecêre recentes)
Aversandâ animum malè torquet iinagine, qualis
120
130
140
Diij
42
MISCELLANIES.
Instruct the list'ning world how Maro sings
Cf useful subjects and of lofty things;
These will such true, such bright ideas raise,
As merit gratitude as well as praise:
But foul descriptions are offensive still,
Either for being like, or being ill:
For who, without a qualm, hath ever look'd
On holy garbage, tho' by Homer cook'd?
Whose railing herces, and whose wounded Gods
Makes some suspect he snores as well as nods.
But I offend---Virgil begins to frown,
And Horace looks with indignation down;
Pharmaca gustantüm gravis oscula torquet amaror.
Te duce, Virgilium attonitus latè audiat orbis,
Ut cecinit sublime! ut miscuit utili dulci!
140
Omnibus hinc verè formosa erietur imago,
Devinctosque habeas, non tantùm laudibus æquos:
Te laudasse parum est, meritis ni præmia donent.
At non arridet describens turpia, vitam
150
Si bene pingat, idem est, si pravê: nam quis iniquæ
Tam patiens cænæ, ut fastidia ferre culina
Mæöniæ immotus sibi temperet? hic sua divi
Vulnera dum plorant, et dum rixatur Achilles,
Non modò dormitat, vereor, sed stertit Homerus.
Parciùs ista:---Maro cœlo indignatus ab alto
Avertit, Flaccusque oculos: mea Musa recedit 160
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSF.
43
My blushing Muse with conscious fear retires,
And whom they like implicitly admires.
On sure foundations let your fabric rise,
And with attractive majesty surprise,
Not by affected meretricious arts,
But strict harmonious symmetry of parts,
Which thro' the whole insensibly must pass,
With vital heat to animate the mass:
150
A pure, an active, an auspicious flame,
And bright as Heav'n, from whence the blessing came;
But few, ch: few souls, pre-ordain'd by Fate,
The race of Gods, have reach'd that envy'd height.
Tincta rubore genas, et quem par nobile fratrum
Vindicat, obsequio probat, et miratur in illis.
Mansurâ fundata basi se fabrica tollat,
Ut videam plenum gratæ, stupeamque videndo
Majestatis opus: miserâ non splendeat arte
Fucatum, sed sit simplex duntaxat, et unum,
Corpore compacto robustum, et partibus aptis.
Hinc pura, hinc velox, hinc felicissima flamma
Lumine divino (donum est divinitùs ortum)
Per varias tacitè partes labatur, et intùs
170
Totam animet molem, foveatque caloribus almis.
Heu tamen, heu! pauci, (qucs Jupiter æquus amavit)
Pulchra Deûm soboles, mirum tetigêre cacumen.
Non novus huc Titan accedere crimine possit
44
MISCELLANIES,
No rebel, Titan's sacrilegious crime,
By heaping hills on hills, can hither climb;
The grizly ferryman of hell deny'd
Æneas entrance till he knew his guide:
How justly then will impious mortals fall,
Whose pride would soar to Heav'n without a call!
Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault)
Proceeds from want of sense or want of thought.
The men who labour and digest things most
Will be much apter to despond than boast;
For, if your author be profoundly good,
'Twill cost you dear before he's understood,
161
Sacrilego, montes iterum si montibus addar.
Squallidus, haud visà primùm duce, portitor orci
Dardanio Heröi cymbamque, aditumque negavit,
Nec nisi monstratâ potuit mitescere virgâ.
Quo non jure ruent nostrorum crimina, fastu
Qui vetito cœlum arripiunt, et non sua captant? 180
Fastus, quo vitium non perniciosius ullum,
Arguit aut celeres animos, curâque carentes,
Aut turpis parit hunc inscitia, crassus et error.
Nam siqui sudant impensiùs, atque laborant,
Desperare magis, quàm sunt jactare parati.
Sic si contineat sensus tuus ille profundos,
Sæpe stylum vertis, limæque incumbere totus
Cogeris, exprimere ut valeas, et reddere purum.
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
45
How many ages since has Virgil writ!
How few are they who understand him yet!
Approach his altars with religious fear,
No vulgar deity inhabits there:
Heav'n shakes not more at Jove's imperial nod
Than poets should before their Mantuan God.
Hail, mighty Maro! may that sacred name
Kindle my breast with thy celestial flame,
Sublime ideas and apt words infuse,
170
The Muse instruct my voice, and thou inspire the
What I have instanc'd only in the best
Is, in proportion, true of all the rest.
[Muse!
190
Sæculorum en! retrò quàm fluxit plurimus ordo,
Ex quo Virgilius legitur! sed pars quota vatein
Lectorum assequitur vulgò! tu pronus ad aras
Relligione pavens procumbe, habitat Deus intùs,
Nec de plebe Deus: nutu Jovis altus Olympus
Si quatitur, trepidare Andina ad numina turbam
Fas pariter vatum, atque suum placare Tonantem.
Salve magno Maro! sanctum, et venerabile nomen,
Nostra tuâ accendas cœlesti pectora flamma.
Hinc Ores liceat, vivas hinc ducere voces,
Musa mihi inspiret cantus, sed tu rege Musam.
Jamque ego de summo dixi quodcunque poetà, 200
Id quoque de reliquis poteras dixisse gradatim,
Sit prinò proprium tibi curæ exquirere sensum,
46
MISCELLANIES.
Take pains the genuine meaning to explore,
There sweat, there strain, tug the laborious oar;
Search ev'ry comment that your care can find,
Some here, some there, may hit the poet's mind;
Yet be not blindly guided by the throng;
The multitude is always in the wrong.
When things appear unnatural or hard,
Consult your author, with himself compar'd;
Who knows what blessings Phoebus may bestow,
And future ages to your labour owe?
Such secrets are not easily found out,
But once discover'd, leave no room for doubt:
Truth stamps conviction in your ravish'd breast,
And peace and joy attend the glorious guest.
Fortiter hoc contende, et totas exere vires.
Omnes ne pigeat criticorum evolvere chartas,
Forsitan hic ille, et rectè alter judicet illic.
At cave, ne turbam malesuada libido sequendi
Te teneat; semper præceps et vulgus, et errat.
Si quædam dura, et nimiùm detorta putabis,
Autorem sibi componens modò consule; quis scit,
Felici annuerit dexter si Cynthius auso,
Quantùm sera tui ditârint sæc'la labores?
Hæc arcana quidem non cuilibet obvia curæ,
Sed simul ut patuére, error fugit antè, metusque :
Intima pertentat solidum tibi pectora verum,
Et pace æternâ cumulat te candidus hospes.
180
190
210
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
47
Truth still is one; Truth is divinely bright,
No cloudy doubts cbscure her native light;
While in your thoughts you find the least debate,
You may confound, but never can translate:
Your style will this thro' all disguises show,
For none explain more clearly than they know.
He only proves he understands a text,
Whose exposition leaves it unperplex'd.
They who too faithfully on names insist,
Rather create than dissipate the mist,
And grow unjust by being over-nice,
(For superstitious virtue turns to vice.)
200
220
Simplex est Verum, et divinâ luce coruscum,
Nec premit ingenuos vultus dubitabilis error.
Hoc certum est, tibi in ambiguo dum sensus adhæret,
Perplexum turbare magis, sed vertere nunquam
Sincerum dabitur: falsos per mille colores
Te prodet stylus ipse cavâ sub imagine ludens.
Nemo etenim verbis rem clariùs explicat, antè
Pectore quàm concepit; et is concepit acutè,
Qui nil obscurum verborum in nube relinquit.
Interpres fidus, nimiùm qui nomina curat,
Inducit potiùs tenebras, quàm dissipat; et fit
Jure adeò ex summo summè idem injurius: odit
Coca superstitio, stultè quem diligit: ipsa
Sponte suâ in vitium virtus delabitur, ultrà
48
MISCELLANIES.
Let Crassus' * ghost and Labienus tell
How twice in Parthian plains their legions fell;
Since Rome has been so jealous of her fame,
That few know Pacorus' or Monæses' name.
Words in one language elegantly us'd
Will hardly in another be excus'd:
And some that Rome admir'd in Cæsar's time
May neither suit our genius nor our clime.
The genuine sense, intelligibly told,
Shews a Translator both discreet and bold.
Excursions are inexpiably bad,
And 'tis much safer to leave out than add.
210
231
Quàm par est textusque tenax, et mordicus hærens.
Ut bis Romanas Parthi fregêre phalanges,
Aut, Labiene, tua, aut Crassi hoc edisserat umbra;
Quando ita consuluit famæ pia Roma suorum,
UtPacorum vix nostra, agnoscant vix sææc'laMonæsen.
Quæ verba alterius linguæ splendore nite cunt,
Fortè carent veniâ, si vis transferre; nec olim,
Omnia, quæ fovere Augusti tempora, nostro
Conveniunt genio, nec honore ferentur eodem
Reddita sed propriè sensus, quos continet autor,
Qui docet, hic interpres erit consultus, et audax. 240
Longè a proposito mullis lustranda piac'lis
Culpa recedendi: nihil addas, siquid omittas
Tutius est, verbis cultum patientibus ægrè.
*Hor. lib. iii. ode 5.
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
49
Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express
With painful care, but seeming easiness,
For truth shines brightest thro' the plainest dress.
Th' Enean Muse, when she appears in state,
Makes all Jove's thunder on her verses wait,
Yet writes sometimes as soft and moving things
As Venus speaks or Philomela sings.
Your author always will the best advise;
Fall when he falls, and, when he rises, rise.
Affected noise is the most wretched thing
That to contempt can empty scribblers bring.
Vowels and accents, regularly plac'd,
On even syllables (and still the last)
220
Mystica si vatum quandoque arcana resolves,
Lima tibi facilem cura mentita laboret,
Nativa ut videatur; amat splendescere verum
Simplex munditiis: cùm sese nëia Musa
Inferat incessu magno, Jovis æmula cingit
Flamma latus, fuimenque: interdum mollia scribit,
Quæ, Philomela, canas, quæ tu, Cytherea, loquaris.
Consilium dabit ipse autor, rectèque monebit,
Cumque cadente cadas, et cum surgente resurgas.
Crede mihi, nugas miserum affectare canoras:
Nil aliud premit inferiùs per inania raptos.
Syllabanam modò per cadat omnis, et ultimata semper,
(Quæ levis est cura) et propriis accentibus aures
Ordo petat numeroso, habebunt verba sonos, et
E
251
50
MISCELLANIES.
Tho' gross innumerable faults abound,
In spite of nonsense never fail of sound.
But this is meant of even verse alone,
As being most harmonious and most known;
For if you will unequal numbers try,
There accents and odd syllables must lie.
Whatever sister of the learned Nine
Does to your suit a willing car incline,
Urge your success, deserve a lasting name,
She'll crown a grateful and a constant flame;
But if a wild uncertainty prevail,
And turn your veering heart with ev'ry gale,
You lose the fruit of all your former care
For the sad prospect of a just despair.
Justum adeò modulamen inania plurima rerum.
Hæc modò vera pari de carmine dicere fas est,
Notum aliis quoniam magis, et quia dulcius; at si
Forsan inæquales numeros tentare libebit,
230
240
261
Quà cadit accentus, cave, syllaba quæque sit impar.
E doctà Aonidum turbâ quæcunque sororum
Arridens precibus surdam non admovet aurem,
Utere forte tuâ, decus immortale mereri
Nunc aude; flammæ Musa immemor esse fidelis
Non ingrata solet: quòd si tibe mobile pectus
Fluctuat, et facili quòvis impellitur aurâ,
Præteritus sordescet honos, mæstusque videbis
Spem meritò ereptam tibi cum mercede laborum. 270
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
SI
A quack (too scandalously mean to name)
Had by man-midwifery got wealth and fame:
As if Lucina had forgot her trade,
The lab'ring wife invokes his surer aid.
Well-season'd bowls the gossip's spirits raise,
Who, while she guzzles, chats the doctor's praise;
And largely what she wants in words supplies
With mau din eloquence of trickling eyes.
But what a thoughtless animal is man!
(How very active in his own trepan!)
For, greedy of physicians' frequent fees,
From female inellow praise he takes degrees,
250
Ille, ferunt, (prohibent sed multa opprobria nomen)
Obstetricis erat functus dum munere, Agyrta
Et famam, et nummos peperit: quasi non memor artis
Ilithyia suæ, fer opem tu certior, inquit
[corpus!
Parturiens, vir docte, uxor : recreantur aniles
Multa fæce animi, et media inter pocula, Agyrtæ
Facta salutiferi resonant: si copia verbis.
Desit, facundos oculis litat ebria rores.
Ast homo quàm brutum est (prô dii!) sine pectore
Quàm sibimet promptâ molitur fraude ruinam !
Nam medicorum avidè dum mercenarius aurum
Appetit, en! pariter doctam sibi ve…dicat artem
Syrmate non licito mirantia compita verrens;
Judice quòd vetulâ medicus sæpe audiit, ultrò
280
E ij
52
MISCELLANIES.
Struts in a new unlicens'd gown, and then,
From saving women, falls to killing men.
Another such had left the nation thin,
In spite of all the children he brought in.
His pills as thick as hand-grenadoes flew,
And where they fell as certainly they slew;
His name struck every where as great a damp
As Archimedes through the Roman camp.
With this the doctor's pride began to cool,
For smarting soundly may convince a fool.
But now repentance came too late for grace,
And meagre Famine star'd him in the face:
260
290
Prodiit et medicus, desertâque arte tuendi
Uxorum vitas, properat jugulare maritos.
Huic alter geminus (talis si fortè fuisset.
In terris) sexum jam nostrum abolere nefandis
Artibus, artis inops valuisset, tot licèt edens
In lucem natos: telorum haud ferreus imber
Densior emitti solet, hinc quàm emissa volabant
Pharmaca, quàque cadunt, similem traxêre ruinam,
Nec certam minùs, ac quondam sublimis ab arce
Ille Syracosius Romanis undique castris
Spargebat geomatra; novus vel nomine solo
Dat stragem medicus: sic defervescere fastus
Paulatim cæpit; stultus sua damna remordent
Supplicio edoctos tandem: factum dolet; at quid
Serò dolore juvat, si gratia victa ferendo est,
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
53
Fain would he to the wives be reconcil'd,
But found no husband left to own a child.
The friends that got the brats were poison'd too; 270
In this sad case what would our vermin do ?
Worry'd with debts, and past all hope of bail,
Th'unpity'd wretch lies rotting in jail;
And there, with basket-alms scarce kept alive,
Shews how mistaken talents ought to thrive.
I pity, from my soul, unhappy men,
Compelled by want to prostitute their pen;
Who must, like lawyers, either starve or plead,
And follow, right or wrong, where guineas lead!
Jamque oculos si macra Famis turbavit imago?
Sæpiùs optavit sponsas placare relictas,
300
Sed non sponsus erat, proles quem agnoscere posset.
Ipse etiam cecidit medicinâ extinctus eâdem
Furtivus pater: en! quò nunc se proripit ille
Accisis peunis, multo et gravis ære, nec usquam
Spes vadis? ergo miser nulli miserabilis imo
Carcere putrescit, vitam vix asse rogato
Sustentans, tristisque monet, quæ fata meretur,
Qui ruit ingenium contra, et temerarius errat.
310
illius ipse vicem sincero ex pectore acerbam
Ingemo, qui Laribus durè compressus iniquis
Prostituit calamos, et conditione malignâ
Scribendo qæstum meritorius urget, ut actor
Causarum, non, quid pulchrum, quid turpe, requirit,
E jij
5+
MISCELLANIES.
But you, Pompilian, wealthy, pamper'd heirs,
Who to your country owe your swords and cares,
Let no vain hope your easy mind seduce,
For rich ill poets are without excuse.
'Tis very dang'rous tamp'ring with a Muse;
The profit's sinall, and you have much to lose;
For tho' true wit adorns your birth or place,
Degen rate lines degrade th' attainted race;
No poet any passion can excite,
But what they feel transport them when they write.
280
At, dictante gala, rapit imperiosior auri
Majestas crm voce fidem: sed vos, quibus ingens
Luxurie- rerum, patriæ quos cuncta saluti
Consecrare decet, vos, Pompiliana propago,
Ne vanæ illecebræ captent, et pectora fallant;
Namque malis simul, et locupletibus esse poëtis 320
Non homines, non dii, non concessûre columnæ,
Extremum discrime. adis, illudere dives
Qui chartis audes; nimis alea luditur impar
Hæc tibi committis totum, dum quærere pauca
Vix tandem poteris sudans. Feliciter ortus
Quamvis fortè tuos cognatæ carmina venæ
Illustrent, clarum inficiunt tibi stemma vicissim
Degeneres versus, ultrò accersitus et error.
Jam frustra stimulis animum mihi tangis inestem,
Scribentis nisi mens affectibus æstuat iisdem,
Ni rabie fera corda tument, et sanguinis undis.
330
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
55
Have you been led thro' the Cumaan cave,
And heard th' impatient mail divinely rave
I hear her now; I see her rolling cyes:
290
And, panting, "Lo! the God, the God!" she cries;
With words not her's, and more than human sound,
She makes th` obedient ghosts peep, trembling, thro'
the ground.
But tho' we must obey when Heav'n commands,
And man in vain the sacred call withstands,
Beware what spirit rages in your breast;
For ten in pir'd ten thousand are possest.
Thus make the proper use of each extreme,
joo
And write with fury, but correct with phlegm.
Túne per Euboice deductus virginis antrum
Sensisti vatem violento numine ferri,
Cùm Phœbi impatiens bacchatur ? Ego audio circùm
Disjectos ego cerno oculos, et pectus anhelum,
"It Deus, ecce Deus!" clamat: jam non sua verba,
Nec mortale sonans, palientes undique manes
Elicit, éque imis trepidos jubet ire sepulchris.
His licèt imperiis parendum haud mollibus ultrò est,
Atque homines magnum fariato corde laborant
Excusisse Deum frustrà; at qui sæviat intùs
Spiritus, intererit multùm; fortè unus, et alter
Phoebo agitur, falsis dum mille furoribus acti.
Affectu sic, st sapies, utroque fruaris
Pectoris, extremo licet hinc, atque inde remoto,
340
36
MISCELLANIES,
As when the cheerful hours too freely pass,
And sparkling wine smiles in the tempting glass,
Your pulse advises, and begins to beat
Thro' ev'ry swelling vein a loud retreat;
So when a Musc propiticusly invites,
Improve her favours, and indulge her flights;
But when you find that vig'rous heat abate,
Leave off, and for another summons wait.
Before the radiant sun a glimm'ring lamp,
Adul'rate metals to the sterling stamp,
Appear not meaner than mere human lines
Compar'd with those whose inspiration shines:
Bile canens calida, frigenti carmina limans.
Ut nimis illa volant celeri cum tempora lapsu,
Plena coronato rident ubi spumea Baccho
Pocula, dant monitus venæ, motuque frequenti
Subsultant, canit et toto tuba corde recessum.
Musa ubi te auspiciis, pronisque furoribus urget,
Utere muneribus, nec celsa sub astra volatus
Compesce ardentes, sed cùm tibi deficit ardor
Pectoris, inceptos præsens in tempus iambos
Deponas, meliora et te ad momenta reserves.
Non magis ad Phoebi radiatum lumen hebescit
Fax tremulùm splendens, aut distant are lupini,
Quàm sonat humanâ carmen triviale monetâ
Percussum, si divinis componitur inde
310
350
Carminibus, verum quæ spirant enthea Phoebum. 360
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
57
These nervous, bold; those languid and remiss:
There cold salutes, but here a lover's kiss.
Thus have I seen a rapid headlong tide
With foaming waves the passive Soane divide,
Whose lazy waters without motion lay,
While he, with eager force, urg'd his impetuous way,
The privilege that ancient poets claim,
Now turn'd to license by too just a name,
Belongs to none but an establish'd fame,
Which scorns to take it------
Absurd expressions, crude abortive thoughts,
All the lewd legion of exploded faults,
320
Hic vires, auimique, ibi stagnat frigidus humor,
Aut natat in labris delumbis, ut oscula libat
Casta parens puero: sed in his furor omnis amantùm.
Haud aliter quondain magno cum murmure vidi
Per medium ire Ararim, et tacitum distinguere flumen
Astu præcipiti Rhodanum; stagnantibus undis
Miratur patiens Araris, dum spumeus amnis
Urget iter, fervensque fretus petit æquora torrens.
Liberias, prisci sibi quam arripuêre poetæ,
(Nomine jam nimiùm quæ dicta licentia justo)
Famæ securo scriptori propria soli est,
Quam parce veniam tamen is, sumetque pudenter.
Absurdi sensus, cruda, imperfectaque vocum
Frogenies, malè nata cohors, et Apolline lævo
Affectare proterva diem, se hoc jure tuetur:
370
38
MISCELLANIES.
Base fugitives to that asylum fly,
And sacred laws with insolence defy.
Not thus our heroes of the former days
Deserv'd and gain'd their never-fading bays;
For I mistake, or far the greatest part,
Of what some call neglect, was study'd art.
When Virgil seems to trifle in a line,
'Tis like a warning-piece, which gives the sign
To wake your fancy, and prepare your sight
To reach the noble height of some unusual flight.
I lose my patience when with saucy pride
Ey untun'd ears I hear his numbers try 'd.
Defendit numerus quia scilicet improbus, et plebs,
Jam Phoebum impunè, et rident Parnassia jura.
Non sic herces, quos sæc'la priora tulerunt,
.Eternum virides lauros fecêre merendo.
Fallor enim, vel quæ multis incuria visa est,
Artis opus summum fuit; ut cùm fortè videtur
Ludere Virgilius vulgari in carmine, siguum hoc
Præmittit, jubet huc totas intendere curas,
Huc geminas acies, oculo surgentis ut acri
Insolitos valeas nisus æquare sequendo.
Ast ego jam bili non impero, nam quis iniqui
Tam patiens fastûs, quis ferreus, ut teneat se?
Omniajam fiunt præpostera! quippe ubi sanæ
Plebs rationis inops, imitatrix turba novorum,
Improba solicitat divini scripta Marunis:
332
380
390
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
Sy
Auverse of Nature! shall such copies then
Arraign th' originals of Marc's pen!
And the rude notions of pedantic schools
Blaspheme the sacred founder of our rules!
The delicacy of the nicest ear
Finds nothing harsh or out of order there.
Sublime or low, unbended or intense,
The sound is still a comment to the sense.
A skilful car in numbers should preside,
And all disputes without appeal decide:
This ancient Rome and elder Athens found,
Before mistaken stops debauch'd the sound.
Cùm sacrum exemplar, leges qui condidit ipsas,
Ad trutinam revocant tyrones lege soluti;
Et prædulce melos, statuit quod maximus autor,
Vocibus, et linguâ violat schola rauca profana.
Cuncta licèt judex digitis, et callidus aure
Suspendat, nihil hic durum reprehendere possit,
Nil incompositum; sive is sublimia tentat,
Seu modo deductus, lenis, seu tensus, et acer,
Ipse aperit sensum sonus, et commendat in aurem.
De numeris litem dirimat solertior auris,
Judiciumque istâ ferat irrevocabile causà.
Illud Roma vetus, seniores illud Athenie
Expertæ,cùm non titubarent carmina punctis
Pravè dispositis, quæ contiguos male sensus,
Nativosque sonos intempestiva premebant.
349
400
ето
MISCELLANIES.
When, by impulse from Heav'n, Tyrtæus sung,
In drooping soldiers a new courage sprung,
Reviving Sparta now the fight maintain'd,
And what two gen'rals lost a poet gain'd.
By secret influence of indulgent Skies,
Empire and poesy together rise,
True poets are the guardians of a state,
And, when they fail, portend approaching fate;
For that which Rome to conquest did inspire
Was not the Vestal but the Mases' fire
Heav'n joins the blessings: no declining age
Ere felt the raptures of poetic rage.
Impellente Deo cecinit cum carmina quondam
Tyrtæus, subiit nove victi pectora virtus
Militis, immotam in medio se turbine belli
Sparta reviviscens tenuit, vatesque redemit
Unicus a gemino amissos ductore triumphos.
Sic arcana jubet placidi indulgentia Fati,
Surgat ut imperium, surgit cùm dia poësis.
Regnorum servant sacro sub pectore vates
Palladium, pariterque ruunt cùm vatibus illa,
Aut nutant ruitura brevi: qui subdidit olim
Romæ animi vires, tantoque accendit amore
Lauri, non Vestalis erat, sed Delius ignis.
Munera conjungunt Superi; vergentia sæc`la
Gaudia Pierii nunquam sensêre furoris.
351
360
410
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE.
61
Of many faults rhyme is perhaps the cause;
Two strict to rhyme, we slight more useful laws,
For that in Greece or Rome was never known,
Till by barbarian deluges o'erflown;
Subdu'd, undone, they did at last obey,
And change their own for their invader's way.
I grant that from some mossy idol oak,
In double rhymes, our Thor and Woden spoke,
And by succession of unlearned times,
As Bards began, so Monks rung on the chimes.
But now that Phoebus and the sacred Nine,
With all their beams, on our bless'd island shine,
370
Forté mali caput est dominans sub sine sonorum 420
Rhythmus; qui rhythmo paret, meliora relinquit
Turpejugum subiens; Latium hunc, nec Græcia nôrat,
Diluvies prius in linguas quàm fluxerat ambas
Barbara, cùm victi tandem cessêre, suasque
Mutavêre vias victoris jura sequuti.
Muscosà, fateor, Vedinus ab ilice noster,
Et Thorns pede bis percesso oracula fudit
Auribus ingeminans agrestibus: hinc mala porrò
Fluxit in ætatem obscuram prurigo sonandi,
Pulstruntque greges Monachorum, Helicone relicto,
Pulsarant primi quæ tintianabula Bardi.
At cum Castalides Divæ, et Thymbræus Apello
Jam pleno Britonum redeuntes lumine terras
F
431
MISCELLANIES.
Why should not we their ancient rites restore,
And be what Rome or Athens were before ?
"Have we forgot how Raphael's num'rous prose*
"Led our exalted souls thro' heav'nly camps,
"And mark'd the ground where proud apostate
Defy'd Jehovah! Here 'twixt host and host, [thrones
(A narrow but a dreadful interval!)
"Portentous sight! before the cloudy van
Satan with vast and haughty strides advanc'd,
Came tow'ring, arm'd in adamant and gold:
"There bellowing engines, with their fiery tubes,
'Dispers'd ethereal forms, and down they fell
380
Illustrant, liceat Phoebi, ritusque Scrorum
Ins'atuare, iterum hic Roma, atque legantur Athena.
Ergone Militoni numerosa oratio lapsa est
E
**Pectoribus, nostras cùm per coelestia castra
Sublimes animas rapuit, campumque notavit,
Quò demente tumens fastu, procerumque rebellis
Explicuit se multa cohors, ipsumque Tonantem
Solicitare ausa est armis! hic inter utramque
"Ecce! aciem (horrendum visu, breve at intervallum)
Ardans, arma tenens nimbosâ in fronte phalangum
"Lucifer exultat, saltuque ingente superbus
Prorumpit rapide, galeâ spectabilis aureá,
Manitusque humeros latos solido adamante.
Kauco illic fremitu tormenta vomentia flammam
therias sternunt formas, et turbine vasto
441
ay on blank verse cut of Paradise Lost, Book VI.
ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE,
63
By thousands, angels on archangels rell'd;
Recover'd, to the hills they ran, they flew, [woods
"Which with their pond'rous load, rocks, wafers,
"From their firm seats torn by the shaggy tops
389
They bore like shields before them thro' the air,
"Till, more incens'd, they hurl'd them at their fees.
"All was confusion, heav'n's foundations shook,
"Threat'ning no less than universal wreck,
"For Michael's arm main promontories flung,
"And over-press'd whole legions weak with sin :
"Yet they blasphem'd and struggled as they lay,
"Undique cernere erat magni per inania coeli
"Agmina mille simul super agmina inille voluta.
"Ut rediêre animi, colles petiêre volatu
"Præcipiti, subitò quos ex radicibus altis,
Rupesque, fluviosque, immensaque pondera, sylvas,
"Avellunt unà, latèque per aëra torquent
Pro clypeis, vel cúm rabies magis arsit, in hostem
"Ipsas vi rapida ex alto misère ruinas.
"Jam chaos omnia erant; totus fundamine ab ipso
"Ether contremuit, dirum promittere visus
"Naturæ exitium: Michael nam sedibus imis
"Tota vibrat solus jam promontoria dextrâ
Extorquens, totas vitiis, et crimine fractas
"Obruit ille acies, sed nec spirare superbi
4 6
Cessavère minas, et adhuc fremuêre jacentes;
460
Fij
64
MISCELLANIES.
"Till the great ensign of Messiah blaz'd,
“And, arm'd with vengeance, God's victorious Son
"(Effulgence of paternal Deity)
Grasping ten thousand thunders in his hand,
"Drove th' old original rebels headlong down,
"And sent them flaming to the vast abyss."
O may I live to hail the glorious day,
And sing loud Peans thro' the crowded way,
When in triumphant state the British Muse,
True to herself, shall barb'rous aid refuse,
And in the Roman majesty appear,
Which none know better, and none come so near.
400
"Dum Christi effulgens vexillum apparuit altè,
"Ingens terribilique incumbens hostibus umbrâ,
"Ultricemque ferens Pænam invictissima proles
"Numinis æterni (quantum Patris instar in ipso!)
"Miscet agens tellis, et vivo sulphure fixos
"Dextrâ præcipitans barathrum deturbat ad imum."
O! mihi tam longæ superet pars ultima vitæ, 470
Spiritus, et quantum sat erit plaudentibus inter-
Esse triumphali cùm Musa Britannica pompâ
Per densas hominum læto Peane catervas
Procedet verâ facie, non barbara cultu,
Ipsa suis opibus pollens, atque æmula Romæ,
Majestate pari, et nativo lumine fulgens,
Juncta duci, claudensque latus, quam nulla recentûm
Callet Musa magis, sequitur nec passibus æquis.
THE DREAM.
To the pale tyrant who to horrid graves
Condemns so many thousand helpless slaves,
Ungrateful we do gentle sleep compare,
Who, tho' his victories as num'rous are,
Yet from his slaves no tribute does he take,
But woeful cares that load men while they wake.
When his soft charms had eas'd my weary sight
Of all the baleful troubles of the light,
Dorinda came, divested of the scorn
Which the unequal maid so long had worn;
How oft, in vain, had Love's great God essay'd
To tame the stubborn heart of that bright maid!
Yet, spite of all the pride that swells her mind,
The humble God of Sleep can make her kind.
A rising blush increas'd the native store
Of charms that but too fatal were before.
Once more present the vision to my view,
The sweet illusion, gentle Fate! renew;
How kind, how lovely she, how ravish'd I!
Shew me, bless'd God of Sleep! and let me die,
Fill
THE GHOST
OF THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS TO THE NEW ONE,
Appointed to meet at Orford.
FROM deepest dungeons of eternal night,
The seats of Horror, Sorrow, Pains, and Spite,
I have been sent to tell you, tender youth!
A seasonable and important truth.
I feel (but, oh! too late) that no discase
Is like a surfeit of luxurious case:
And of all others the most tempting things
Are too much wealth and too indulgent kings.
None ever was superlatively ill
But by degrees, with industry and skill;
And some, whose meaning hath at first been fair,
Grow knaves by use, and rebels by despair.
My time is past, and your's will soon begin;
Keep the first blossoms from the blast of sin,
And by the fate of my tumultuous ways
Preserve yourselves, and bring screner days.
The busy, subtle, serpents of the law,
Did first my mind from true obedience draw.
While I did limits to the king prescribe,
And took for oracles that canting tribe,
I chang'd true Freedom for the name of Free,
And grew seditious for variety:
MISCELLANIES,
67
All that oppos'd me were to be accus'd,
And by the laws illegally abus'd;
The robe was summon'd, Maynard in the head,
In legal murder none so deeply read;
I brought him to the bar, where once he stood,
Stain'd with the (yet unexpiated) blood
Of the brave Strafford, when three kingdoms rung
With his accumulative hackney-tongue:
Pris'ners and witnesses were waiting by,
These had been taught to swear, and those to die,
And to expect their arbitrary fates,
Some for ill faces, some for good estates.
To fright the people, and alarm the town,
Bedloe and Oates employ'd the rev'rend gown;
But while the triple mitre bore the blame,
The king's Three Crowns were their rebellious aim :
I seem'd (and did but seem) to fear the Guards,
And took for mine the Bethels and the Wards,
Anti-monarchic Heretics of state,
Immoral Atheists, rich and reprobate:
But, above all, I got a little guide
Who ev'ry ford of villainy had try'd
None knew so well the old pernicious way
To ruin subjects, and make kings obey;
And my small Jehu, at a furious rate,
Was driving Eighty back to Forty-eight;
This the king knew, and was resolv'd to beat,
But I mistook his patience for his fear,
68
MISCELLANIES.
All that this happy island could afford
Was sacrific'd to my voluptuous board.
In his whole paradise one only tree
He had excepted by a strict decree :
A sacred tree! which royal fruit did bear,
Yet it in pieces I conspir'd to tear:
Beware, my child! divinity is there.
This so undid all that I had done before,
I could attempt and he endure no more;
My unprepar'd and unrepenting breath
Was snatch'd away by the swift hand of Death,
And I, with all my sins about me, hurl'd
To th' utter darkness of the lower world
A dreadful place! which you too scon will see,
If you believe seducers more than me.
ROSS'S GHOST.
SHAME
HAME of my life, disturber of my tomb,
Base as thy mother's prostituted womb;
Huffing to cowards, fawning to the brave,
To knaves a fool, to cred❜lous fools a knave,
The king's betrayer, and the people's slave!
Like Samuel, at thy necromantic call
I rise, to tell thee God has left thee, Saul.
I strove, in vain, th' infected blood to cure;
~
Streams will run muddy where the spring's impure.
MISCELLANIES.
69
In all your meritorious life we see
Old Taaf's invincible sobriety.
Places of Master of the Horse, and Spy,
You (like Tom Howard) did at once supply:
From Sidney's blood your loyalty did spring;
You show us all your parents but the king,
From whose too tender and 100 bounteous arms
(Unhappy he who such a viper warms!
As dutiful a subject as a son !)
To your true parent, the whole Town, you run.
Read, if you can, how the old apostate fell,
Outdo his pride, and merit more than hell:
Both he and you were glorious and bright,
The first and fairest of the sons of light;
But when, like him, you offer'd at the crown,
Like him, your angry father kick'd you down,
A PARAPHRASE ON PS. CXLVIII.
O AZURE vaults! O crystal sky!
The world's transparent canopy,
Break your long silence, and let mortals know
With what contempt you look on things below.
Wing'd squadrons of the God of War,
Who conquer wheresoe'er you are,
Let echoing anthems make his praises known,
On earth his footstool, as in heav'n his throne.
MISCELLANIES
Great eye of all, whose glorious ray
Rules the bright empire of the day,
O praise his Lame! without whose purer light
Thou hadst been hid in an abyss of night.
Ye Moon and Planets! who dispense
By God's command your influence,
Resign to him, as your Creator due,
That veneration which men pay to you.
Fairest, as well as first, of things,
From whom all joy, all beauty springs,
O! praise th' Almighty Ruler of the globe,
Who useth thee for his empyreal robe.
Praise him ye loud harmonious spheres!
Whose sacred stamp all Nature bears;
Who did all forms from the rude chaos draw,
And whose command is th' universal law.
Ye wat'ry Mountains of the sky,
And you so far above our eye,
Vast ever-moving Orbs: exalt his name,
Who gave its being to your glorious frame.
Ye Dragons! whose contagious breath
Peoples the dark retreats of Death,
MISCELLANIES.
Change your fierce hissings into joyful song,
And praise your Maler with your forked tongue
Frise him, ye Monsters of the deep!
That in the seas' vast bo-oms leep,
At whose command the foaming billows roar.
Yet know their limits, tremble, and adore.
Ye Mists and Vapours, Hail and Snow!
And you who thro' the concave blow,
Swift executors of his holy word,
Whirlwinds and Tempests! praise th' Almighty Lord,
Mountains! who to your Maker's view
Seem less than molehills do to you,
Remember how, when first Jehovah spoke,
All heav'n was fire, and Sinai hid in smoke.
Praise him, sweet offspring of the ground,
With heav'nly nectar yearly crown'd!
And ye tail Cedars ! celebrate his praise,
That in his temple sacred altars raise,
Idle Musicians of the Spring,
Whose only care's to love and sing,
Fly thro' the world, and let your trembling throat
Praise your Creator with the sweetest note.
72
MISCELLANIES.
Praise him each savage furious Beast
That on his stores do daily feast!
And you, tame Slaves of the laborious plow,
Your weary knees to your Creator bow.
Majestic Monarchs, mortal Gods!
Whose pow'r hath here no periods,
May all attempts against your crowns be vain !
But still remember by whose pow'r you reign.
Let the wide world his praises sing
Where Tagus and Euphrates spring,
And from the Danube's frosty banks, to those
Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows.
You that dispose of all our lives,
Praise him from whom your pow'r derives;
Be true and just like him, and fear his word,
As much as malefactors do your sword.
Praise him, old Monuments of time!
O praise him in your youthfal prime!
Praise him, fair Idols of our greedy sense!
Exalt his name, sweet age of Innocence!
Jehovah's name shall only last
When heav'n, and earth, and all is past:
MISCELLANIES.
73
Nothing, great God! is to be found in thee
But unconceivable eternity.
Exalt, O Jacob's sacred race!
The God of Gods, the God of grace!
Who will above the stars your empire raise,
And with his glory recompense your praise.
ODE UPON SOLITUDE.
1.
HAIL, sacred Solitude! from this calm bay
I view the world's tempestuous sea,
And with wise pride despise
All those senseless vanities:
With pity mov'd for others, cast away
On rocks of hopes and fears, I see them tost
On rocks of folly, and of vice I see them lest :
Some the prevailing malice of the great,
Unhappy men, or adverse Fate,
Sunk deep into the gulfs of an afflicted state:
But more, far more, a numberless prodigious train,
Whilst Virtue courts them, but, alas! in vain,
Fly from her kind embracing arms,
Deaf to her fondest call, blind to her greatest charms,
And, sunk in pleasures and in brutish ease,
They in their shipwreck'd state themselves obdurate
please.
G
74
MISCELLANIES.
II.
Hail, sacred Solitude! soul of my soul,
It is by thee I truly live;
Thou dost a better life and nobler vigour give;
Dost each unruly appetite controul;
Thy constant quiet fills my peaceful breast
With unmix'djoy, uninterrupted rest.
Presuming Love does ne'er invade
This private solitary shade;
And, with fantastic wounds by Beauty made,
The joy has no allay of jealousy, hope, and fear,
The solid comforts of this happy sphere:
Yet I exalted love admire,
Friendship abhorring sordid gain,
And purify'd from lus's dishonest stain :
Nor is it for my Solitude unfit,
For I am with my friend alone,
As if we were but one;
'Tis the polluted love that multiplies,
But friendship does two souls in one comprise.
III.
Here, in a full and constant tide, doth flow
All blessings man can hope to know ;
Here, in a deep recess of thought, we find
Pleasures which entertain, and which exalt the m
Pleasures which do from friendship and from kr
ledge rise,
Which make us happy, as they make us wise:
MISCELLANIES.
75
Here may I always on this downy grass,
Un nown, unseen, my easy minutes pass,
Till, with a gentle force, victorious Death
My solitude invade,
And stopping for a while my breath,
With ease convey me to a better shade.
ON THE
DEATH OF A LADY'S DOG.
THOU, happy Creature! art secure
From all the torments we endure;
Despair, ambition, jealousy,
Lost friends, nor love, disquiet thee;
A sullen prudence drew thee hence
From noise, fraud, and impertinence.
Tho' life essay'd the surest wile,
Gilding itself with Laura's smile,
How didst thou scorn life's meaner charms,
Thou who couldst break from Laura's armā!
Poor Cynic! still methinks I hear
Thy awful murmurs in my ear,
As when on Laura's lap you lay,
Chiding the worthless crowd away.
How fondly human passions turn!
What we then envy'd now we mourn!
Gij
ON THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
THE
I.
HE day of wrath, that dreadful day?
Shall the whole world in ashes lay,
As David and the Sibyls say.
II.
What horror will invade the mind
When the strict Judge, who would be kind,
Shall have few venial faults to find!
III.
The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound
Shall thro' the rending tombs rebound,
And wake the nations under ground.
IV.
Nature and Death shall, with surprise,
Behold the pale offender rise,
And view the judge with conscious eyes.
V.
Then shall, with universal dread,
The sacred mystic book be read,
To try the living and the dead.
VI.
The Judge ascends his awful throne;
He makes each secret sin be known;
And all with shame confess their own.
MISCELLANIES.
77
VII.
O then! what it'rest shall I make
To save my last important stake,
When the most just have cause to quake?
VIII.
Thou, mighty formidable King!
Thou, mercy's unexhausted spring!
Some comfortable pity bring.
IX.
Forget not what my ransom cost,
Nor let my dear-bought soul be lost,
In storms of guilty terror tost.
X.
Thou, who for me didst feel such pain,
Whose precious blood the cross did stain,
Let not those agonies be vain.
XI.
Thou, whom avenging powers obey,
Cancel my debt (too great to pay)
Before the sad accounting-day.
XII.
Surrounded with amazing fears,
Whose load my soul with anguish bears,
I sigh, I weep: accept my tears.
XIII.
Thou, who wert mov'd with Mary's grief,
And, by absolving of the thief,
Hast given me hope, now give relief.
Giy
78
MISCELLANIES.
XIV.
Reject not my unworthy pray'r;
Preserve me from that dang'rous snare
Which Death and gaping Hell prepare.
XV.
Give my exalted soul a place
Among thy chosen right-hand race,
The sons of God, and heirs of grace.
XVI.
From that insatiable abyss,
Where flames devour and serpents hiss,
Promote me to thy seat of bliss.
XVII.
Prostrate my contrite heart I rend,
My God! my Father! and my Friend!
Do not forsake me in my end.
XVIII.
Well may they curse their second breath,
Who rise to a reviving death;
Thou! great Creator of mankind!
Let guilty man compassion find.
A PROSPECT OF DEATH.
1.
SINCE we can die but once, and after death
Our state no alteration knows,
But, when we have resign'd our breath,
Th' immortal spirit goes
To endless joys or everlasting woes;
Wise is that man who labours to secure
That mighty and important stake,
And by all methods strives to make
His passage safe, and his reception sure.
Merely to die no man of reason fears,
For certainly we must,
As we are born, return to dust;
'Tis the last point of many ling'ring years:
But whither then we go,
Whither we fain would know,
But human understanding cannot show:
This makes us tremble, and creates
Strange apprehensions in the mind,
Fills it with restless doubts and wild debates,
Concerning what we, living, cannot find.
None know what death is but the dead,
Therefore we all by nature dying dread,
10
20
As a strange doubtful way we know not how to tread.
So
MISCELLANIES.
II.
When to the margin of the grave we come,
And scarce have one black painful hour to live,
No hopes, no prospect of a kind reprieve
To stop our speedy passage to the tomb,
How moving and how mournful is the sight!
How wondrous pitiful, how wondrous sad!
Where then is refuge, where is comfort to be had
In the dark minutes of the dreadful night,
To cheer our drooping souls for their amazing flig
Feeble and languishing, in bed we lie,
Despairing to recover, void of rest,
Wishing for death, and yet afraid to die;
Terrors and doubts distract our breast,
With mighty agonies and mighty pains opprest.
III.
Our face is moisten'd with a clammy sweat ;
Faint and irregular the pulses beat;
The blood unactive grows,
And thickens as it flows,
Depriv'd of all its vigour, all its vital heat.
Our dying eyes roll heavily about,
Their lights just going out,
And for some kind assistance call;
But pity, useless pity, is all
Our weeping friends can give,
Or we receive:
Tho' their desires are great, their pow'rs are small.
MISCELLANIES.
81
The tongue's unable to declare
The pains, the griefs, the miseries we bear.
How insupportable our torments are!
Music no more delights our deaf'ning ears,
Restores our joys, or di sipates our fears,
But all is melancholy, all is sad,
In robes of deepest mourning clad;
For ev'ry faculty and ev'ry sense
Partakes the woe of this dire exigence.
IV.
Then we are sensible, too late,
'Tis no advantage to be rich or great;
For all the fulsome pride and pageantry of state
No consolation brings;
Riches and honours then are useless things,
Tasteless or bitter all,
And like the book which the Apostle ate,
To their ill-judging palate sweet,
But turn at last to nauseousness and gall!
Nothing will then our drooping spirits cheer
But the remembrance of good actions past:
Virtue's a joy that will for ever last,
And make pale death less terrible appear;
Takes out his baneful sting, and palliates our fear.
In the dark antichamber of the grave
What would we give, even all we have,
All that our care and industry had gain'd,
All that our fraud, our policy, or art, obtain'd,
50
60
70
$2
MISCELLANIES.
Could we recall those fatal hours again
Which we consum'd in senseless vanities,
Ambitious follies, and luxurious ease;
For then they urge our terrors, and increase our f
V.
Our friends and relatives stand weeping by,
Dissolv'd in tears to see us die,
And plunge into the deep abyss of wide eternity.
In vain they mourn, in vain they grieve,
Their sorrows cannot our's relieve.
They pity our deplorable estate,
But what, alas! can pity do
To soften the decrees of Fate?
Besides, the sentence is irrevocable too.
All their endeavours to preserve our breath,
Tho' they do unsuccessful prove,
Shew us how inuch, how tenderly they love,
But cannot cut off the entail of Death.
Mournful they look, and crowd about our bed;
One, with officious haste,
Brings us a cordial we want sense to taste;
Another softly raises up our head,
This wipes away the sweat, that, sighing, cries,
"See what convulsions, what strong agonies,
"Both soul and body undergo !
"His pains no intermission know ;
"For ev'ry gasp of air he draws returns in sighs.
MISCELLANIES.
33
Each would his kind assistance lend
To serve his dear relation, or his dearer friend;
But still in vain with Destiny they all contend.
VI.
Our father, pale with grief and watching grown,
Takes our cold hand in his and cries, "Adieu!
"Adieu, my Child! now I must follow you;"
Then weeps, and gently lays it down.
Our sons, who in their tencer years
Were objects of our cares and of our fears,
Come trembling to our bed, and, kneeling, cry,
"Bless us, O Father! now before you die;
"Bless us, and be you bless'd to all eternity!"
Our friend, whom equal to ourselves we love,
Compassionate and kind,
Cries, "Will you leave me here behind?
"Without me fly to the bless'd seats above?
"Without me did I say? Ah! no;
"Without thy friend thou can'st not go:
"For tho' thou leav'st me grov'lling here below,
My soul with thee shall upward fly,
"And bear thy spirit company
"Thro' the bright passage of the yielding sky.
110
120
"Ev'n Death, that parts thee from thyself, shall be
"Incapable to separate
"(For 'tis not in the pow'r of Fate)
My friend, my best, my dearest, friend and me.
84
MISCELLANIES.
"But, since it must be so, farewell!
"Forever? No; for we shall meet again,
"And live like Gods, tho' now we die like men,
"In the eternal regions where just spirits da ell.
VII.
The soul, unable longer to maintain
The fruitless and unequal strife,
Finding her weak endeavours vain
To keep the counterscarp of life,
By slow degrees retires more near the heart,
And fortifies that little fort
With all the kind artilleries of art,
Botanic legions guarding ev'ry port;
But Death, whose arms no mortal can repel,
A formal siege disdains to lay,
Summons his fierce battalions to the fray,
And in a minute storms the feeble citadel.
Sometimes we may capitulate, and he
Pretends to make a solid peace;
But 'tis all sham, all artifice,
That we may negligent and careless be;
For if his armies are withdrawn to-day,
And we believe no danger near,
But all is peaceable, and all is clear,
His troops return some unsuspected way:
While in the soft embrace of Sleep we lie
The secret murd’rers stab us, and we die.
MISCELLANIES.
85
Since our first parents' fall
Inevitable Death descends on all,
A portion none of human race can miss;
But that which makes it sweet or bitter is
The fears of misery or certain hope of bliss:
For when th' impenitent and wicked die,
Loaded with crimes and infamy,
If any sense at that sad time remains,
They feel amazing terrors, mighty pains,
The earnest of that vast stupendous woe
Which they to all eternity must undergo,
Confin'd in hell with everlasting chains.
Infernal spirits hover in the air,
Like rav'nous wolves to seize upon their prey,
And hurry the departed souls away
To the dark receptacles of Despair,
Where they must dwell till that tremendous day
When the loud trumpet calls them to appear
Before a Judge most terrible and most severe,
By whose just sentence they must go
To everlasting pains and endless woe,
Which always are extreme, and always will be so.
VIII.
But the good man, whose soul is pure,
Unspotted, regular, and free
From all the ugly stains of lust and villainy,
Of mercy and of pardon sure,
160
170
180
H
86
MISCELLANIES.
Looks thro' the darkness of the gloomy night,
And sees the dawning of a glo ious day;
Sees crowds of angels ready to convey
His soul, whene'er she takes her flight,
To the surprising mansions of immortal light:
Then the celestial guards around him stand,
Nor suffer the black demons of the air
T'oppose his passage to the Promis'd Land,
Or terrify his thoughts with wild despair;
But all is calm within, and all without is fair.
His pray'rs, his charity, his virtues press
To plead for mercy when he wants it most,
Not one of all the happy number's lost;
And those bright advocates ne'er want success.
But when the soul's releas'd from dull mortality,
She passes up in triumph thro' the sky,
Where she's united to a glorious throng
Of angels, who, with a celestial song,
Congratulate her conquest as she flies along.
IX.
If therefore all must quit the stage,
When, or how soon, we cannot know,
But, late or early, we are sure to go,
In the fresh blood of youth or wither'd age,
We cannot take too sedulous a care
In this important grand affair;
For as we die we must remain;
MISCELLANIES.
87
Hereafter all our hopes are vain
To make our peace with Heav'n, or to return again.
The Heathen, who no better understood
Than what the light of Nature taught, declar'd, 210
No future miseries could be prepar'd
For the sincere, the merciful, the good;
But if there was a state of rest,
They should with the same happiness be bless'd
As the immortal Gods, if Gods there were, possess'd.
We have the promise of eternal Truth---
Those who live well, and pious paths pursue,
To man and to their Maker true,
Let them expire in age or youth,
Can never miss
Their way to everlasting bliss;
But, from a world of misery and care
To mansions of eternal ease repair,
Where joy in full perfection flows,
No interruption, no cessation knows,
But in a mighty circle round for ever goes.
ON
MR. DRYDEN'S RELIGIO LAICI.
BEGONE, you slaves! you idle vermine! go,
Fly from the scourges, and your master know;
Let free impartial men from Dryden learn
Mysterious secrets of a high concern,
220
Hij
88
MISCELLANIES.
And weighty truths, solid convincing sense,
Explain'd by unaffected Eloquence.
What can you (Rev'rend Levi!) here take ill?
Men still had faults, and men will have them still;
He that hath none, and lives as angels do,
Must be an angel; but what's that to you?
While mighty Lewis finds the Pope too great,
And dreads the yoke of his imposing seat,
Our sects a more tyrannic pow'r assume,
And would for scorpions change the rods of Rome;
That church detain'd the legacy divine;
Fanatics cast the pearls of Heav'n to swine:
What then have honest thinking men to do
But chuse a mean between th' usurping two?
Nor can th' Egyptian Patriarch blame my Muse,
Which for his firmness does his heat excuse;
Whatever councils have approv'd his creed,
The preface, sure, was his own act and deed.
Our church will have that preface read, you'll say;
'Tis true, but so she will th' Apocrypha,
And such as can believe them freely may.
But did that God, (so little understood)
Whose darling attribute is being good,
From the dark womb of the rude chaos bring
Such various creatures, and make man their king,
Yet leave his fav'rite man, his chiefest carę,
More wretched than the vilest insects are?
}
MISCELLANIES.
89
O! how much happier and more safe are they?
If helpless millions must be doom'd a prey
To yelling Furies, and for ever burn
In that sad place from whence is no return,
For unbelief in one they never knew,
Or for not doing what they could not do!
The very fiends know for what crime they fell,
(And so do all their foll'wers that rebel);
If then a blind well-meaning Indian stray,
Shall the great gulf be show'd him for the way?
For better ends our kind Redeemer dy'd,
Or the fall'n angels' rooms will be but ill supply'd.
That Christ, who at the great deciding day,
(For he declares what he resolves to say)
Will damn the goats for their ill-natur'd faults,
And save the sheep for actions, not for thoughts,
Hath too much mercy to send men to hell
For humble charity and hoping well.
To what stupidity are zealots grown,
Whose inhumanity profusely shown,
In damning crowds of souls may damn their own.
I'll err at least on the securer side,
A convert free from malice and from pride.
Hin
THE PRAYER OF JEREMIAH
PARAPHRASED.
Prophetically representing the passionate Grief of the Jewish
People for the Loss of their Town and Sanctuary.
1.
STAND, Sun of Justice! sov'reign God Most High!
In Libra fix thy bench of equity,
And weigh our case---
Look down on earth, nay look as low again
As we're inferior to the rest of men;
We wretched, once like thy archangels bright,
Are cast down headlong with diminish'd light;
So meteors fall, and, as they downwards fly
Leave a long train of less'ning light and die.
II.
Then let that other smoother face of thine,
The sun of Justice, take its turn and shine;
If not alone, at least to mix allays,
And streak thy justice with alternate rays,
To see and pity our distress; for, oh!
As thou'rt exalted our condition's low.
III.
Houses, estates, our temple, and our town,
Which God and birthright long had made our own,
To barb'rous nations now are fall'n a prey,
And we from all we love are torn away.
Thus, early orphans whilst our fathers live,
We know no comfort, they no comfort give:
MISCELLANIES.
91
Our mothers are but widows under chains
Of wedlock, and of all their nuptial gains
None of the mother but the
pangs remains.
Famish'd with want, we wilds and deserts tread,
And, fainting, wander for our needful bread
Where wolves and tigers round in ambush lie,
And hosts with naked swords stand threat'ning by:
But keener hunger, more a beast of prey,
More sharp than these, more ravenous than they,
Thro' swords, and wolves, and tigers, breaks our
[bitter way.
IV.
The fowls, and beasts, and ev'ry sylvan kind,
Down to the meanest insects, Heav'n design'd
To be the slaves of man, were always free
Of waters, woods, and common air; but we,
We slaves, and beasts, and more than insects vile,
That half-born wanton on the banks of Nile,
Are glad to buy the leavings they can spare
Of waters, woods, and the more common air.
V.
With loads of chains our foes pursue their stroke,
And lug our aching necks beneath their yoke :
No intermission gives the weary breath,
But endless drudging drags us on to death.
Our cries ascend, and like a trumpet blow,
All Egypt and Assyria hear our woe:
Here nights we labour, there whole days we sweat,
And barely earn the heartless bread we eat.
92
MISCELLANIES.
VI.
Our old forefathers sinn'd, and are no more;
They pawn'd their children to defray their score.
O happy they! by death from suff'ring freed,
But all our fathers' scourges lash their seed.
Vengeance, at which great Sion's entrails shakes,
Shoots thro' the inmost of the soul, and rakes
Where pride lurks deepest, there we feel our pain,
Our slaves are masters, and our menials reign;
Whilst we, unrescu'd, send our cries around
To seek relief, but no relief is found.
VII.
Look on our cheeks, and in each furrow trace
A storm of famine driving on our face;
The scorching tempest lets its fury go,
And pours upon us in a burst of wee:
The signs of conscious guilt our brows impart,
Black as our sin, and harden'd as our heart.
VIII.
From Sion's Mount the humble matrons cry,
With mournful echoes Judah's maids reply;
Our great ones fall beneath their sweeping hand,
Ev'n venerable Age cannot withstand
Their impious scoffs; our youth, in bloomy prime
Compell'd, submit to their indecent crime,
And children, 'whelm'd with labour, fall before
their time.
Thus prince and people, infancy and age,
Promisc'ous objects of an impious rage,
MISCELLANIES.
93
But serve to haunt us, wheresoe'er we go,
With horrid scenes of universal woe.
IX.
Old men no more in Sion's council sit,
Nor young in consorts of her music meet;
Such foolish change fund profligates devise,
The old turn singers, and the young advise;
Perverted order to confusion runs,
And all our dwindling music ends in groans.
Sion! thy ancient glories are decay'd,
Thy laurels wither, and thy garlands fade;
Oh, Sin! 'tis thou hast this destruction made.
X.
'Tis Sion, then, 'tis Sion we deplore,
For her we grieve, for Sion is no more!
Our eyes condole in tears, and jointly smart
With all the anguish of an aching heart;
For who can hold to see the woeful sight,
All nations envy and the world's delight!
Now grown a desert where the foxes range,
And howling wolves lament the dismal change?
XI.
But thou, un haken God! shalt ever be;
Thy throne stands fast upon eternity;
Then must we thus by thee forsaken lie,
Or, lost for ever, in oblivion die ?
Turn but to us, O Lord! we'll mend our ways;
Oh! once restore the joys of ancient days:
94
MISCELLANIES.
Ev'n tho' we seem the outcasts of thy care,
Refuse of death, and gleanings of the war,
Resume the Father, and let sinners know
Thy mercy's greater than thy people's woe.
SONG.
101
On a young Lady who sung finely, and was afraid of a cold.
W
INTER! thy cruelty extend
Till fatal tempests swell the sea:
In vain let sinking pilots pray;
Beneath thy yoke let Nature bend,
Let piercing frost and lasting snow
Thro' woods and fields destruction sow!
Yet we unmov'd will sit and smile,
While you these lesser ills create,
These we can bear; but, gentle Fate!
And thou bless'd Genius of our isle!
From Winter's rage defend her voice,
At which the list'ning Gods rejoice.
May that celestial sound each day
With ecstacy transport our souls,
Whilst all our passions it controuls,
And kindly drives our cares away!
Let no ungentle cold destroy
All taste we have of heav'nly joy!
PROLOGUES, &c.
PROLOGUE
TO POMPEY. A TRAGEDY.
TRANSLATED BY MRS. CATH. PHILIPS,
From the French of Monsieur Corneille, and acted at the
Theatre in Dublin.
THE mighty rivals, whose destructive rage
Did the whole world in civil arms engage,
Are now agreed, and make it both their choice
To have their fates determin'd by your voice.
Cæsar from none but you will have his doom;
He hates th` obsequious flatteries of Rome:
He scorns where once he rul'd now to be try'd,
And he hath rul'd in all the world beside.
When he the Thames, the Danube, and the Nile,
Had stain'd with blood, Peace flourish'd in this isle :
And you alone may boast you never saw
Cæsar till now, and now can give him law.
Great F'onipey, too, comes as a suppliant here,
But says he cannot now begin to fear:
He knows your equal justi e, and (to tell
A Roman truth) he knows himself too well.
96
PROLOGUE.
Success, 'tis true, waited on Cæsar's side,
But Pompey thinks he conquer'd when he dy’d.
His fortune, when she prov'd the most unkind,
Chang'd his condition, but not Cato's mind,
Then of what doubt can Pompey's cause admit,
Since here so many Cato's judging sit?
But you, bright Nymphs! give Cæsar leave to woo
The greatest wonder of the world but you,
And hear a Muse who has that hero taught
To speak as gen'rously as e'er he fought,
Whose eloquence from such a theme deters
All tongues but English, and all pens but her's.
By the just Fates your sex is doubly blest!
You conquer'd Cæsar, and you praise him best.
And you (illustrious Sir! *) receive as due
A present Destiny reserv'd for you:
Rome, France, and England, join their forces here,
To make a poem worthy of your ear.
Accept it then, and on that Pompey's brow,
Who gave so many crowns, bestow one now.
* To the Lord Lieutenant,
"
+
A PROLOGUE
SPOKEN TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE DUKE OF YORK, AT EDINBURGH.
FOLLY
OLLY and vice are easy to describe,
The common subjects of our scribbling tribe;
But when true virtues, with unclouded light,
All great, all royal, shine divinely bright,
Our eyes are dazzled, and our voice is weak;
Let England, Flanders, let all Europe speak;
Let France acknowledge, that her shaken throne
Was once supported, Sir! by you alone;
Banish'd from thence for an usurper's sake,
Yet trusted then with her last desp'rate stake:
When wealthy neighbours strove with us for pow'r,
Let the sea tell how in their fatal hour,
Swift as an eagle, our victorious prince,
Great Britain's genius, flew to her defence;
His name struck fear, his conduct won the day;
He came, he saw, he seiz'd the struggling prey,
And while the heav'ns were fire, and th' ocean blocd,
Confirm'd our empire o'er the conquer'd flood.
Oh, happy Islands! if you knew your bliss,
Strong by the sca's protection, safe by his;
I
98
PROLOGUE.
Express your gratitude the only way,
And humbly own a debt too vast to pay:
Let Fame aloud to future ages tell
None e'er commanded, none obey'd so well;
While this high courage, this undaunted mind,
So loyal, so submissively resign'd,
Proclaim that such a hero never springs
But from the uncorrupted blood of kings.
EPILOGUE
TO ALEXANDER THE GREAT,
When acted in the Theatre in Dublin.
You have seen to-night the glory of the East,
The man who all the then known world possest,
That kings in chains did Son of Ammon call,
And kingdoms, thought divine, by treason fall.
Him Fortune only favour'd for her sport,
And when his conduct wanted her support,
His empire, courage, and his boasted line,
Were all prov'd mortal by a slave's design.
Great Charles! whose birth has promis'd milder sway,
Whose awful nod all nations must obey,
Secur'd by higher pow'rs, exalted stands
Above the reach of sacrilegicus hands;
Those miracles that guard his crowns declare,
That Heav'n has form'd a monarch worth their care,
Born to advance the loyal, and depose
His own, his brother's, and his father's foes.
Faction, that once made diadems her prey,
And stopp'd our pri: ce in his triumphant way,
Fied like a mist before this radiant day.
So when, in heav'n, the mighty rebels rose,
Proud, and resolv'd that empire to depose,
Angels fought first, but unsuccessful prov'd,
God kept the conquest for his best Belov'd;
I ij
100
EPILOGUE.
At sight of such omnipotence they fly
Like leaves before autumnal winds, and die.
All who before him did ascend the throne,
Labour'd to draw three restive nations on;
He boldly drives them forward withou pain;
They hear his voice, and straight obey the rein.
Such terror speaks him destin'd to command;
We worship Jove with thunder in his hand,
But when his mercy without pow'r appears,
We slight his altars, and neglect our pray'rs.
How weak in arms did Civil Discord shew!
Like Saul, she struck with fury at her foe,
When an immortal hand did ward the blow.
Her offspring, made the royal hero's scorn,
Like sons of Earth, all fell as soon as born.
Yet let us boast, for sure it is our pride,
When with their blood our neighbour lands were dy'd,
Ireland's untainted loyalty remain'd,
Her people guiltless, and her fields unstain'd.
TRANSLATIONS.
HORACE'S ART OF POETRY.*
Scribendi recte, sapere est et principium et fons.
PREFACE.
I HAVE seldom known a trick succeed, and will put
none upon the reader, but tell him plainly, that I think
it could never be more sea-onable than now to lay
down such rules as, if they be observed, will make
men write more correctly, and judge more discreetly,
But Horace must be read seriously, or not at all, for
else the reader will not be the better for him, and I
shall have lost my labour. I have kept as close as I
could both to the meaning and the words of the author,
and done nothing but what I believe he would forgive
if he were alive; and I have often asked myself that
question. I know this is a field,
Per quem magnus equos Aurunca flexit Alumnus.
But with all the respect due to the name of Ben Jon-
son, to which no man pays more veneration than I, it
cannot be denied that the constraint of rhyme, and a
* Printed from Dr. Rawlinson's copy, corrected by
the Earl of Ro.common's own hand.
I iij
102
PREFACE.
literal translation, (to which Horace in this book
declares himself an enemy) has made him want a
comment in many places.
My chief care has been to write intelligibly, and
where the Latin was obscure, I have added a line or
two to explain it.
I am below the envy of the critics; ut, if I durst, I
would beg them to remember, that Horace owed his fa-
vour and his fortune to the character given of him by
Virgil and Varius, that Fundanius and Pollio are still
valued by what Horace says of them, and that, in
their golden age, there was a good understanding
among the ingenious, and those who were the most
esteemed were the best-natured.
HORACE
OF THE ART OF POETRY.
Ir-in a picture, Piso, you should see
A handsome woman with a fish's tail,
Or a man's head upon a horse's neck,
Orlimbs of beasts of the most diff'rent kinds,
Cover'd with feathers of all sorts of birds,
Would you not laugh, and think the painter mad?
Trust me that book is as ridiculous
Whose incoherent style (like sick men's dreams)
Varies all shapes, and mixes all extremes.
Painters and poets have been still allow'd
DE ARTE POETICA LIBER,
AD PISONES.
HUMANO
UMANO capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas,
Undique collatis membris: ut turpitur atrum
Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne:
Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici ?
Credite, Pisones, isti tabulæ fore librum
Persimilem, cujus, velut ægri somnia, vanæ
Fingentur species: ut nec pes nec caput uni
Reddatur formæ. Pictoribus atquæ poëtis
10
104
TRANSLATION3.
Their pencils and their fancies unconfin'd:
This privilege we freely give and take;
But Nature, and the common laws of sense,
Forbid to reconcile antipathies,
Or make a snake engender with a dove,
And hungry tigers court the tender lambs.
Some, that at first have promis'd mighty things,
Applaud themselves when a few florid lines
Shine thro' th' insipid dulness of the rest;
Here they describe a temple or a wood,
Or streams that thro' delightful meadows run,
And there the rainbow, or the rapid Rhine;
But they misplace them all, and crowd them in,
And are as much to seek in other things
As he that only can design a tree
20
ΤΟ
Quidlibet audendi semper fuit a qua potestas.
Scimus,et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim,
Sed non ut placidis coëant immitia, non ut
Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.
Inceptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis
Purpureus, latè qui splendeat, unus et alter
Assuitur pannus: quum lucus, et ara Dianæ
Et properantis aquæ per amonos ambitus agros,
Aut flumen Rhenum, aut pluvius describitur arcus.
Sed nunc non erat his locus: et fortasse cupressum
Scis simulare. Quid hoc? si fractis enatat exspes 20
TRANSLATIONS.
105
Would be to draw a shipwreck or a storm.
When you begin with so much pomp and show,
Why is the end so little and so low?
Be what you will, so you be still the same.
Most poets fall into the grossest faults,
Deluded by a seeming excellence:
By striving to be short they grow obscure,
30
And when they would write smoothly they want
Their spirits sink; while others, that affect [strength;
A lof y style, swell to a tympany.
Some tim❜rous wretches start at ev'ry blast,
And, fearing tempests, dare not leave the shore;
Others, in love with wild variety,
Draw boars in waves and dolphins in a wood.
Thus fear of erring, join'd with want of skill,
Is a most certain way of erring still.
40
Navibus, ære dato qui pingitur? amphora cœpit
Institui; currente rota cur urceus exit ?
Denique sit quod vis simplex duntaxat et unum.
Maxima pars vatum, pater, et juvenes patre digni,
Decipimur specie recti. bre, is esse laboro,
Obscurus fio: sectantem levia, nervi
Deficiunt animique: professus grandia, turget:
Serpit humi tutus nimium, timidusque procellæ:
Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam,
Delphinum sylvis appingit, fluctibus aprum.
In vitium ducit culpæ fuga, si caret arte.
30
106
TRANSLATIONS,
The meanest workman in th' Emilian square
May grave the nails, or imitate the hair,
But cannot finish what he hath begun :
What can be more ridiculous than he?
For one or two good features in a face,
Where all the rest are scandalously ill,
Make it but more remarkably deform'd.
Let poets match their subject to their strength,
And often try what weight they can support,
And what their shoulders are too weak to bear.
After a serious and judicious choice,
Method and eloquence will never fail.
As well the force as ornament of verse
Consist in chusing a fit time for things,
Æmilium circa ludum faber imus et ungues
Exprimet, et molles imitabitur a re capillos:
Infelix operis summa, quia ponere totum
Nesciet, hunc ego me, si quid componere curem,
Non magis esse velim, quam pravo vivere naso,
Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.
Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, æquam
Viribus, et versate diu, quid ferre recusent,
Quid valeant humeri, cui lecta potenter erit res,
Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucidus ordo.
Ordinis hæc virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor,
Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici
40
50
TRANSLATIONS.
1=7
And knowing when a Muse may be indulg'd
In her full flight, and when she should be curb'd.
Words must be chosen, and be plac'd with skill:
You gain your point when by the noble art
Of good connexion an unusual word
Is made at first familiar to our ear;
But if you write of things abstruse or new,
Some of your own inventing may be us'd,
So it be seldom and discreetly done:
But he that hopes to have new words allow'd,
Must so derive them from the Grecian spring,
As they may seem to flow without constraint.
Can an impartial reader discommend
In Varius or in Virgil what he likes
In Plautus or Cæcilius? Why should I
Pleraque differat, et præsens in tempus omittat.
Hoc amet, hoc spernat promissi carminis auctor,
In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque ferendis :
Dixeris egregiè, notum si callida verbum
Reddiderit junctura novum. si fortè necesse est
Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum,
Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis
Continget: dabiturque licentia sumta pudenter.
Et nova fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, si
Græco fonte cadant, parce desorta, quid autem
Cæcilio Plautoque dabit Romanus ademtum
Virgilio Varioque? ego, cur acquirere pauca
60
70
50
110
TRANSLATIONS,
Be envy'd for the little I invent,
When Ennius and Cato's copious style
Have so enrich'd and so adorn'd our tongue ?
Men ever had, and ever will have, leave
To coin new words well suited to the age.
Words are like leaves, some wither ev'ry year,
And ev'ry year a younger race succeeds.
Death is a tribute all things owe to Fate;
The Lucrine mole (Cæsar's stupendous work)
Protects our navies from the raging north;
And (since Cethegus drain'd the Pontine lake)
We plough and reap where former ages row'd.
See how the Tiber (whose licentious waves
So often overflow'd the neighb'ring fields)
Now runs a smooth and inoffensive course,
Si possum, invideor? quum lingua Catonis et Enni
Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum
Nomina protulerit? licuit, semperque licebit,
Signatum præsente nota procudere nomen.
Ut sylva foliis pronos mutantur in annos,
Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit ætas,
Et juvenum ritu florent modo nata, vigentque.
Debemur morti nos, nostraque; sive receptus
Terra Neptunus classes aquilonibus arcet,
Regis opus; sterilisve diu palus, aptaque remis,
Vicinas urbes alit, et grave sentit aratrum:
Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,
8c
60
TRANSLATIONS.
109
Confin'd by our great Emperor's command:
Yet this, and they, and all, will be forgot;
Why then should words challenge eternity,
When greatest men and greatest actions die ?
Use may revive the obsoletest words,
And banish hose that now are most in vogue.
Use is the judge, the law, and rule of speech.
Homer first taught the world in epic verse
To write of great commanders and of kings.
Elegies were at first design'd for grief,
Tho' now we use them to express our joy;
But to whose Muse we owe that sort of verse
Is undecided by the men of skill.
Rage with lambics arm'd Archilochus,
Numbers for dialogue and action fit,
90
100
Doctus iter melius. mortalia facta peribunt,
Nedum sermonum stet honos, et gratia vivax.
Multa renascentur, quæ jam cecidêre, cadentque, 70
Quæ nunc sunt in honoré vocabula, si volet usus,
Quem penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.
Res gestæ regumque ducumque, et tristia bella,
Quo scribi possent numere, monstravit Homerus.
Versibus impariter junctis querimonia primum,
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,
Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.
Archilochum proprio rabies armavit Iambo.
K
IC
TRANSLATIONS,
And favourites of the dramatic Muse;
Fierce, lofty, rapid, whose commanding sound
Awes the tumultuous noises of the pit,
And whose peculiar province is the stage.
Gods, heroes, conquerors, Olympic crowns,
Love's pleasing cares, and the free joys of wine,
Are proper subjects for the lyric song.
Why is he honour'd with a Poet's name
Who neither knows or would observe a rule,
And chuses to be ignorant and proud,
Rather than own his ignorance and learn?
Let ev'ry thing have its due place and time.
A comic subject loves an humble verse;
Thyestes corns a low and comic style;
Hinc socci cepere pedem, grandesque cothurni,
Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares
Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.
Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque Decrum,
It pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.
Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores,
Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, Poëta salutor?
Cur nescire, pudens prave, quam discere malo?
Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult;
Indignatur item privatis ac prope socco
Digniscarminibus narrari cena Thyestæ.
Singula quæque locum teneant sortita decenter.
110
80
90
TRANSLATIONS.
117
Yet Comedy sometimes may raise her voice,
And Chremes be allow'd to foam and rail.
Tragedians, too, lay by their state to grieve;
Peleus and Telephus, exil'd and poor,
Forget their swelling and gigantic words.
He that would have spectators share his grief,
Must write not only well but movingly,
And raise men's passions to what height he will,
We weep and laugh as we see others do:
He only makes me sad who shews the way,
And first is sad himself: then, Telephus !
I feel the weight of your calamities,
And fancy all your miseries my own;
Bu you act them ill I sleep or laugh:
Interdum tamen et vocem comœdia tollit,
Iratusque Chremes unido delitigat ore:
Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri.
Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,
Projicit ampullas, et sesquipedalia verba,
Si curat cor spectantis tetigi-se querelà,
Non satis est pulchra esse poëmata: dulcia sunto,
Et qocumque volent, a imum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent
Humani vultus. si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primùm ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia lædent,
Telephe, vel Feleu: malè si mandata loquêris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo, tristia mostum
120
ΤΟΙ
Kij
112
TRANSLATIONS.
Your locks must alter as your subject does,
From kind to fierce, from wanton to severe;
For Nature forms and softens us within,
And writes our fortune's changes in our face.
Pleasure enchants, impetuous rage transports,
And grief dejects, and wrings the tortur'd soul,
And these are all interpreted by speech;
But he whose words and fortunes disagree,
Absurd, unpity'd, grows a public jest.
Observe the characters of those that speak,
Whether an honest servant or a cheat,
Or one whose blood boils in his youthful veins,
Or a grave matron, or a busy nurse,
Extorting merchants, careful husbandmen,
Argives or Thebans, Asians or Greeks.
Vultum verba decent: iratum, plena minarum:
Ludentem, lasciva: severum, seria dictu.
130
140
11Q
Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum: juvat, aut impellit ad iram;
Aut ad humum moerore gravi deducit, et angit:
Post effert animi motus interprete linguâ.
Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,
Romani tollent equites peditesque cachinnum.
Intererit multum, divusne loquatur, an heros :
Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventà
Fervidus: an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix:
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli :
Colchus, an Assyrius: Thebis nutritus, an Argis.
TRANSLATIONS.
113
Follow report, or feign coherent things;
Describe Achilles as Achilles was,
Impatient, rash, inexorable, proud,
Scorning all judges, and all law but arms:
Medea must be all revenge and blood,
Ino all tears, Ixion all deceit,
Io must wander, and Orestes mourn.
If your bold Muse dare tread unbeaten paths,
And bring new characters upon the stage,
Be sure you keep them up to their firs: height.
New subjects are not easily explain'd,
And you had better chuse a well-known theme
Than trust to an invention of your own;
For what originally others writ
May be so well disguis'd and so improv'd,
Aut famum sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge,
Scriptor. honoratum si fortè reponis Achillem:
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer,
Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.
Sit Medea ferox, invictaque: flebilis Ino,
Perfidus Ixion, Io vaga, tristis Orestes.
Si quid inexpertum scence committis, et audes
Personam formare novam, servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.
Difficile est propriè communia dicere: tuque
Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,
Quam si proferres ignota indictaque primus.
150
120
I 30
K iij
114
TRANSLATIONS.
Tat with some justice it may pass for your's;
But then you must not copy trivial things,
Nor word for word too faithfully translate,
Nor (as some servile imitators do)
Prescribe at first such strict uneasy rules
As you must ever slavishly observe,
Or all the laws of decency renounce.
Begin not as the old poetaster did,
"Troy's famous war and Priam's fate I sing.
In what will all this ostentation end?
160
The lab'ring mountain scarce brings forth a mouse:
How far is this from the Mæonian style?
170
"Muse! speak the man who, since the siege of Troy,
"So many towns, such change of manners, saw."
One with a flash begins, aud ends in smoke,
Publica materies privati juris erit, si
Nec circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem,
Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus
Interpres nec desilies imitator in arctum,
Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet, aut operis lex.
Nec si incipies, ut scriptor Cyclicus olim:
"Fortunam Priami cantabo, et nobile bellum."
Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?
Parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.
Quanto rectius hic, qui nil molitur ineptè:
(Dic mihi, Musa, virum, captæ post tempora Trojæ,
Qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes.)
140
TRANSLATIONS.
115
The other out of smoke brings glorious light,
And (without raising expectation high)
Surprises us with daring miracles,
The bloody Lestrygons, Charybdis' gulf,
And frighted Greeks, who near the Etna shore
Hear Scylla bark, and Polyphemus roar.
He doth not trouble us with Leda's eggs
When he begins to write the Trojan war;
Nor, writing the return of Diomed,
Go back as far as Meleager's death:
Nothing is idle; each judicious line
Insensibly acquaints us with the plot;
He chuses only what he can improve,
And truth and fiction are so aptly mix'd
That all seems uniform and of a piece.
Now hear what ev'ry auditor expects.
180
Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem
Cogitat: ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat:
Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cyclope Charybdim.
Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,
Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo.
Semper ad eventum festinat: et in medias res,
Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit: et quæ
Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit:
Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,
Primo ne medium, medeo ne discrepet imuin.
Tu, quid ego, et populus mecum desideret, audi.
150
116
TRANSLATIONS♂
If you intend that he should stay to hear
The epilogue, and see the curtain fall:
Mind how our tempers alter in our years,
And by that rule form all your characters.
One that hath newly learn'd to speak and go,
Loves childish plays, is soon provok'd and pleas'd,
And changes ev'ry hour his wav'ring mind.
A youth that first casts off his tutor's yoke,
Loves horses, hounds, and sport, and exercise,
Prone to all vice, impatient of reproof,
Proud, careless, fond, inconstant, and profuse.
Gain and ambition rule our riper years,
And make us slaves to interest and pow'r.
Si plausoris eges aulæ a manentis, et usque
Sessuri, donec cantor, vos plaudite, dicat:
Etatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores:
Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus et annis.
Reddere qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo
Signat humum, gestit paribus colludere, et iram
Colligit ac ponit temere, et mutatur in horas.
Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto,
Gaudet equis canibusque et aprici gramine campi :
Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper:
Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus æris:
Sublimis, cupidusque et amata relinquere pernix.
Conversis studiis, atas animusque virilis
Quærit opes et amicitias, inservit honori:
ICO
200
160
TRANSLATIONS.
117
Old men are only walking hospitals,
Where all defects and all diseases crowd
With restless pain, and more tormenting fear,
Lazy, morose, full of delays and hopes,
Oppress'd with riches which they dare not use ;
Ill-natur'd censors of the present age,
And fond of all the follies of the past:
Thus all the treasure of our flowing years
Our ebb of life for ever takes away.
Boys must not have th' ambitious care of men,
Nor men the weak anxieties of age.
Some things are acted, others only told;
But what we hear moves less than what we see.
210
Commisisse cavet quod mox mutare laboret.
Multa senem circumvenient incommoda: vel quod
Quærit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti: 179
Vel quod res omnes timide gelidè que ministrat;
Dilator, spe longus, iners, avidusque futuri,
Difficilis, querulus: laudator temporis acti
Se puero, censor castigatorque minorum.
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum,
Multa recendentes adimunt. ne fortè seniles
Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles;
Semper in adjunctis, ævoque`morabimur aptis.
Aut agitur res in scenis, aut acta refertur.
Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem.
180
118
TRANSLATIONS.
Spectators only have their eyes to trust,
But auditors must trust their ears and you;
Yet there are things improper for a scene,
Which men of judgment only will relate.
Medea must not draw her murd'ring knife,
And spill her children's blood, upon the stage,
Nor Atreus there his horrid feast prepare.
Cadmus and Progne's metamorphosis,
(She to a swallow turn'd, he to a snake)
And whatsoever contradicts my sense
I hate to see, and never can believe.
Five acts are the just measure of a play.
Never presume to make a God appear
But for a bus'ness worthy of a God;
And in one scene no more than three should speak.
Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quæ
Ipse sibi tradit spectator. Non tamen intus
Digna geri, promes in scenam: multaque tolles
Ex oculis, que mox narret facundia præsens.
Nec pueros coram populo Medea trucidet;
Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus:
Aut in avem Progne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.
Quodcumque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.
Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu
Fabula, quæ posci vult, et spectata reponi.
Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindici nodus
Inciderit: nec quarta loqui persona laboret.
220
190
TRANSLATIONS.
119
A chorus should supply what action wants,
And hath a generous and manly part,
Bridles wild rage, loves rigid honesty
231
And strict observance of impartial laws,
Sobriety, security, and peace,
And begs the Gods, who guide blind Fortune's wheel,
To raise the wretched and pull down the proud:
But nothing must be sung between the acts
But what some way conduces to the plot.
First the shrill sound of a small rural pipe
(Not loud like trumpets, nor adorn'd as now)
Was entertainment for the infant stage,
And pleas'd the thin and bashful audience
Ofour well-meaning frugal ancestors;
Actoris partes chorus officiumque virile
Defendat neu quid medios intercinat actus,
Quod non proposito conducat et hæreat aptè.
Ille bonis faveatque, et concilietur amicis:
Et regat iratos, et amet peccare timentes:
Ille dapes laudet mensæ brevis, ille salubrem
Justitiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis :
Ille tegat commissa: Deosque precetur et oret
Ut redeat miseris, abeat Fortuna superbis.
Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco vincta, tubæque
Æmula; sed tenuis simplexque, foramine pauco
Aspiraro, et adesse choris crat utilis, atque
Nondum spissa niinis complere sodilia flatu:
240
200
120
TRANSLATIONS.
But when our walls and limits were enlarged,
And men (grown wanton by prosperity)
Study new arts of luxury and ease,
The verse, the music, and the scene, is improv'd;
For how should ignorance be judge of wit,
Or men of sense applaud the jests of fools?
Then came rich clothes and graceful action in,
Then instruments were taught more moving notes,
And Eloquence, with all her pomp and charms,
Foretold us ueful and sententious truths,
As those deliver'd by the Delphic God.
The first tragedians found that serious style
Quò sanè populus numerabilis, ut pote parvus,
Et frugi, castusque verecundusque coibat.
Postquam cœpit agros extendere victor, et urbem.
Latior amplecti murus; vinoque diurno
Placari genius festis impunè diebus;
Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.
Indoctus quid enim saperet, liberque laborum
Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?
Sic priscæ motumque et luxuriam addidit arti
Tibicen; traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem.
Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere severis,
Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia præceps:
Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri
Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.
Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum,
250
210
TRANSLATIONS.
121
Too grave for their uncultivated age,
And so brought wild and naked Satyrs in,
Whose motion, words, and shape, were all a farce,
(As oft' as decency would give them leave)
Because the mad ungovernable rout,
Full of confusion, and the fumes of wine,
Lov'd such variety and antic tricks:
But then they did not wrong themselves so much
To make a God, a hero, or a king,
(Stript of his golden crown and purple robe)
Descend to a mechanic dialect,
Nor (to avoid such meanness) soaring high
With empty sound and airy notions fly;
For Tragedy should blush as much to stoop
To the low mim:c follies of a farce,
260
270
221
Mox etiam agrestes Satyros nudavit, et asper
Incolumi gravitate jocumtentavit: eo quod
Illecebris erat et grata novitate morandus
Spectator, functusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.
Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicaces
Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere seria ludo:
Ne, quicumque Deus, quicumque adhibebitur heros,
Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro,
Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas:
Aut, dum vita humum, nubes et inania captet.
Effutire leves indigna Tragoedia versus:
Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus,
L
230
122
TRANSLATIONS.
As a grave matron would to dance with girls.
You must think that a satiric style
Allows of scandalous and brutish words,
Or the confounding of your characters.
Begin with truth, then give invention scope,
And if your style be natural and smooth,
All men will try and hope to write as well,
And (not without much pains) be undeceiv'd.
So much good method and connexion may
Improve the common and the plainest things.
A Satyr that comes staring from the woods,
Must not at first speak like an orator;
But, tho' his language should not be refin'd,
Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.
Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina solùm,
Verbaque, Pisones, satyrarum scriptor amabo:
Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori,
Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur, et audax
Pythias, emuncto lucrata Simone talentum:
An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni.
Ex noto fictum carmen sequar: ut sibi quivis
Speret idem: sudet multum, frustraque laboret
Ausus idem, tantum series juncturaque pollet,
Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.
Sylvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni,
Ne, velut innati triviis, ac pene forenses,
Aut nimiùm teneris juvenentur versibus unquam,
280
240
TRANSLATIONS,
123
I must not be obscene and impudent;
The better sort abhors scurrility,
And often censures what the rabble likes.
Unpolish'd verses pass with many men,
And Rome is too indulgent in that point;
But then to write at a loose rambling rate,
In hope the world will wink at all our faults,
Aut immunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta.
Offenduntur enim quibus est equus et pater et res:
Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,
Equis accipiunt animis, donantve corona.
Syllaba longa breva subjecta, vocatur ïambus,
Pes citus: unde etiam trimetris accrescere jussit
Nomen ïambis: quum senos redderet ictus,
Primus ad extremum similis sibi. non ita pridem,
Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures,
Spondeos stabiles in jura paterna recepit,
Commodus et patiens: non ut de sede secunda
Cederet aut quarta socialiter. hic et in Accî
Nobilibus trimetris apparet rarus, et Ennî.
In scenam missos magno cum pondere versus,
Aut operæ celeris nimium, curaque carentis,
Aut ignoratæ premit artis crimine turpi.
Non quivis videt immodulata poëmata judex:
Et data Romanis venia est indigna poëtis,
Idcircone vager, scribamque licenter? an omnes
Visuros peccata putem mea, tutus et intra
290
250
260
Lij
124
TRANSLATIONS,
Is such a rash ill-grounded confidence
As men may pardon, but will never praise.
Be perfect in the Greek originals;
Read them by day, and think of them by night.
But Plautus was admir'd in former time
With too much patience, (not to call it worse)
His harsh unequal verse was music then,
And rudeness had the privilege of wit.
When Thespis first expos'd the Tragic Muse, 300
Rude were the actors, and a cart the scene,
Where ghastly faces, stain'd with lecs of wine,
Frighted the children, and amus'd the crow'd;
This Eschylus (with indignation) saw,
And built a stage, found out a decent dress,
Spem veniæ cautus? vitavi denique culpam,
Non laudem merui. Vos exemplaria Græca
Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.
At nostri proavi Plautinos et numeros et
Laudavere şales: nimium patienter utrumque,
Ne dicam stulte, mirati: si modo ego et vos
Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto,
Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure.
Ignotum Tragicæ genus invenisse Camœnæ
Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse poëmata Thespis:
Quæ canerent agerentque peruncti facibus ora,
Post hunc personæ pallæque reperter honestæ
Eschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis,
270
TRANSLATIONS.
125
Brought vizards in, (a civiler disguise)
And taught men how to speak and how to act.
Next Comedy appear'd with great applause,
Till her licentious and abusive tongue
Waken'd the magistrate's coercive pow'r,
310
And forc'd it to suppress her insolence.
Our writers have attempted ev'ry way;
And they deserve our praise, whose daring Muse
Disdain'd to be beholden to the Greeks,
And found fit subjects for her verse at home.
Nor should we be less famous for our wit
Than for the force of our victorious arms;
But that the time and care that are requir'd
Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. 280
Successit vetus his comedia, non sine multa
Laude: sed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim
Dignam lege regi: lex est accepta: chorusque
Turpiter obticuit, sublato jure nocendi.
Nil intentatum nostri liquere poëtæ :
Nec minimum meruêre decus, vestigia Græc2
Ausi deserere, et celebrare domestica facta:
Vel qui prætextas, vel qui docuêre togatas.
Nec virtute foret clarisve potentius armis,
Quam lingua, Latium: si non offenderet unum- 290
Quemque poëtarum lima labor et mora.
Vos O
Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite quod non
Multa dies et multa litura coërcuit, atque
Liii
126
TRANSLATIONS.
320
To overlook, and file, and polish well,
Fright poets from that necessary toil.
Democritus was so in love with wit,
And some men's natural impulse to write,
That he despis'd the help of art and rules,
And thought none poets till their brains were crack'd;
And this hath so intoxicated some,
That (to appear incorrigibly mad)
They cleanline´s and company renounce
For lunacy beyond the cure of art;
With a long beard, and ten long dirty nails,
Pass current for Apollo's livery.
O! my unhappy stars! if in the spring
330
Some physic had not cur'd me of the spleen,
None would have writ with more success than I;
But I must rest contented as I am,
Perfectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.
Ingenium misera quia fortunatius arte
Credit, et excludit sanos Helicone poëtas
Democritus: bona pars non ungues ponere curat,
Non barbam: secreta petit loca, balnea vitat.
Nanciscetur enim, retium nomen que poëtæ,
Si tribus Auticyris caput insanab le nunquam
Tonseri Lici commiserit. O ego lavus,
Qui purgor bilem seb verni temporis horam !
No alius faceret meliora p.ëmata. verum
Nii tanti est. ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum
300
TRANSLATIONS,
127
And only serve to whet that wit in you
To which I willingly resign my claim.
Yet without writing I may teach to write,
Tell what the duty of a poet is,
Wherein his wealth and ornaments consist,
And how he may be form'd, and how improv'd, 340
What fit, what not, what excellent or ill.
Sound judgment is the ground of writing well;
And when Philosophy directs your choice
To proper subjects rightly understood,
Words from your pen will naturally flow;
He only gives the proper characters
Who knows the duty of all ranks of men,
And what we owe our country, parents, friends,
How judges and how senators should act,
And what becomes a general to do:
350
Reddere que ferrum valet, exors ipsa secandi:
Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo:
Unde parentur opes: quid alat formetque poëtam:
Quid deceat, quid non: quo virtus, quo ferra: error.
Scribe di rectè, sapere est et principium et fons,
Rem tibi Socraticæ poterunt ostendere chartæ :
Verbaque provisam rem non invit sequentur.
Qui didicit, pariæ quid debeat, et quid amicis:
Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hospes;
Quod sit conscripti, qued judicis officium: quæ
l'artes in bellum missi ducis; ille profecto
310
178
TRANSLATIONS.
Those are the likest copies which are drawn
By the original of human life.
Sometimes in rough and undigested plays
We meet with such a lucky character
As, being humour'd right, and well pursu'd,
Succeeds much better than the shallow verse
And chiming trifles of more studious pens.
Greece had a genius, Greece had eloquence,
For her ambition and her end was fame.
Our Roman youth is diligently taught
The deep mysterious art of growing rich,
And the first words that children learn to speak
Are of the value of the names of coin.
Can a penurious wretch, that with his milk
Hath suck'd the basest drugs of usury,
Reddere personæ scit convenientia cuique.
Respicere exemplar vitæ morumque jubebo
Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces.
Interdum speciosa locis morataque rectè
Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte,
Valdiùs oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,
Quam versus inopes rerum, nugæque canoræ.
Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo
Musa loqui, præter laudem nullius avaris.
Romani pueri longis rationibus assem
Discunt in partes centum diducere. dicat
Filius Albini, si de quincunce remota est
360
320
TRANSLATIONS.
129
Pretend to gen'rous and heroic thoughts?
Can rust and avarice write lasting lines?
But you, brave youth! wise Numa's worthy heir,
Remember of what weight your judgment is,
And never venture to commend a book
That hath not pass'd all judges and all tests.
A poet should instruct, or please, or both:
Let all your precepts be succinct and clear,
That ready wits may comprehend them soon,
And faithful memories retain them long:
All superfluities are soon forgot.
Never be so conceited of your parts
To think you may persuade us what you please,
Or venture to bring in a child alive
Uncia, quid superat? Poteras dixisse, triens. eu,
Rem poteris servare tuam. redit uncia: quid fit?
Semis. At hæc animos arugo et cura peculi
Quum semel imbuerit, speramus carmina fingi
Posse linenda cedro, et levi servanda cupresso?
Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare poëtæ,
Aut simul et jucunda et idonea dizere vitæ.
Quicquid præcipies, esto brevis : ut cito dicta
Percipiant animi dociles, teneantque fideles.
Ombe supervacuum pleno de pectore manat.
Ficta voluptatis causà sint proxima veris.
Nec, quodcumque volet, poscat sibi fabula credi:
370
330
*-30
TRANSLATIONS.
That Cannibals have murder'd and devour'd,
Old age explodes all but morality;
Austerity offends aspiring youths;
But he that joins instruction with delight,
Profit with pleasure, carries all the votes:
These are the volumes that enrich the shops,
These pass with admiration thro' the world,
And bring their author to eternal fame.
Be not too rigidly censorious;
A string may jar in the best master's hand,
And the most skilful archer miss his aim:
But in a poem elegantly writ
I would not quarrel with a slight mistake,
38€
390
Neu pransa Lamia vivum puerum extrahat alvo. 340
Centuriæ seniorum agitant expertia frugis,
Celsi prætereunt austera poëmata Rhamnes.
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterque, monendo.
Hic meret æra liber Sosiis: hic et mare transit,
Et longum noto scriptori prorogat ævum.
Sunt delicta tamen quibus ignovisse velimus.
Nam neque chorda sonum reddit quem vult manus et
mens,
Poscentique gravem persæpe remittit acutum :
Nec semper feriet quodcumque minabitur arcus.
Verùm ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis
350
TRANSLATIONS.
Such as our nature's frailty may excuse;
But he that hath been often told his fault,
And still persists, is as impertinent
As a musician that will always play,
And yet is always out at the same note:
When such a positive abando.'d fop
(Among his numerous absurdities)
Stumbles upon some tolerable line,
I fret to see them in such company,
And wonder by what magic they came there.
But in long works sleep will sometimes surprise:
Homer himself hath been observ'd to nod.
Poems, like pictures, are of diff'rent sorts,
Some better at a distance, others near;
Some love the dark, some chuse the clearest light,
Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit,
Aut humana parum cavit Natura, quid ergo?
Ut scriptor si peccat idem librarius usque,
Quamvis est monitus, veniâ caret: et citharœdus
Kidetur, chordâ qui semper oberrat eâdem :
Sic mihi, qui multum cessat, fit Cheerilus ille,
Quem bis terque bonum, cum risu miror: et idem
Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.
Verùm opere in longo fas est obrepere somnum.
Ut pictura, poësis erit, quæ, si propiùs stes,
Te capiet magis: et quædam, si longiùs abstes.
Hæc amat obscurum, volet hac sub lace videri,
400
360
132
TRANSLATION3.
And boldly challenge the most piercing eye;
Some please for once, some will for ever please.
But, Piso! (tho' your knowledge of the world, 410
Join'd with your father's precepts, make you wise)
Remember this as an important truth:
Some things admit of mediocrity;
A counsellor or pleader at the bar
May want Messala's pow'rful eloquence,
Or be less read than deep Cassellius;
Yet this indiff'rent lawyer is esteem'd;
But no authority of Gods nor men
Allow of any mean in poesy.
As an ill concert and a coarse perfume
Disgrace the delicacy of a feast,
420
And might with more discretion have been spar'd;
Judicis argutum quæ non formidat acumen :
Hæc placuit semel, hæc decies repetita placebit.
O major juvenum, quamvis et voce paternà
Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis, hoc tibi dictum
Tolle memor: certis medium et tolerabile rebus
Rectè concedi. consultus juris, et actor
Causarum mediocris, abest virtute diserti
Messalæ, nec scit quantum Casselius Aulus:
Sed tamen in pretio est : mediocribus esse poëtis
Non homines, non di, non concessere columnæ,
Ut gratas inter mensas symphonia discors,
370
Et crassum unguentum et Sardo cum melle papaver,
TRANSLATIONS.
133
So poesy, whose end is to delight,
Admits of no degrees, but must be still
Sublimely good or despicably ill.
In other things men have some reason left,
And one that cannot dance or fence or run,
Despairing of success, forbears to try;
But all (without consideration) write,
Some thinking that th' omnipotence of wealth
Can turn them into poets when they please.
But, Piso! you are of too quick a sight
Not to discern which way your talent lies,
Or vainly with your genius to contend;
Yet if it ever be your fate to write,
Let your productions pass the strictest hands,
Offendunt, poterat duci qui cœna sine istis:
Sic animis natum inventumque poëma juvandis,
Si paulùm à summe discessit, vergit ad imum.
Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abstinet armis :
Indoctusque pilæ discive trochive quiescit,
Ne spissæ risum tollant impunè coronæ :
Qui nescit, versus tamen audet fingere. quidni?
Liber et ingenuus, præsertim census equestrem
Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni,
Tu nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva:
Id tibi judicium est, ea mens: si quid tamen olim
Scripseris, in Metii descendat judicis aures,
M
4.30
380
134
TRANSLATIONS.
Mine and your father's, and not see the light
Till time and care have ripen'd ev'ry line.
What you keep by you, you may change and mend,
But words once spoke can never be recall'd.
Orpheus, inspir'd by more than human pow'r,
Did not, as poets feign, tame savage beasts,
But men as lawless and as wild as they,
And first dissuaded them from rage and blood.
Thus when Amphion built the Theban wall
They feign'd the stones obey'd his magic lute.
Poets, the first instructors of mankind,
Brought all things to their proper native use;
Some they appropriated to the Gods,
And some to public, some to private ends :
Promiscuous love by marriage was restrain'd,
440
450
Et patris, et nostras: nonumque prematur in annum
Membranis intus positis, delere licebit
Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti.
Sylvestres homines sacer interpresque Deorum
Cædibus et victu fœdo deterruit Orpheus:
Dictus ob hoc lenire tigres rapidosque leones:
Dictus et Amphion, Thebanæ conditor arcis
Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda
Dacere quò vellet. fuit hæc sapientia quondam,
Publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis:
Concubitu prohibere vago, dare jura maritis,
390
TRANSLATIONS.
Cities were built, and useful laws were made:
So great was the divinity of verse,
And such observance to a poet paid.
Then Homer's and Tyrtæus' martial Muse
Waken'd the world, and sounded loud alarms.
To verse we owe the sacred oracles
And our best precepts of morality:
Some have, by verse, obtain'd the love of kings,
(Who with the Muses ease their weary'd minds) 463
Then blush not, noble Piso! to protect
What Gods inspire, and kings delight to hear.
Some think that poets may be form'd by art,
Others maintain that Nature makes them so;
I neither see what art without a vein
Nor wit without the help of art can do,
Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno.
Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit. post hos insignis Homerus
Tyrtæusque mares animos in Martia bella
Versibus exacuit. dictæ per carmina sortes:
Et vitæ monstrata via est: et gratia regum
Pieriis tentata modis: ludusque repertus,
Et longorum operum finis: ne fortè pudori
Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers, et cantor Apollo.
Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte,
Quæsitum est: ego nec studium sine divite vena,
400
Nec rude quid prosit video ingenium. alterius sic 410
M ij
136
TRANSLATIONS.
But mutually they crave each other's aid.
He that intends to gain th' Olympic prize
Must use himself to hunger, heat, and cold,
Take leave of wine, and the soft joys of love;
And no musician dares pretend to skill
Without a great expence of time and pains;
But ev'ry little busy scribbler now
Swells with the praises which he gives himself,
And, taking sanctuary in the crowd,
Brags of his impudence, and scorns to mend.
A wealthy poet takes more pains to hire
A flatt'ring audience than poor tradesmen do
To persuade customers to buy their goods.
'Tis hard to find a man of great estate
470
480
Altera poscit opem res, et conjurat amice.
Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam,
Multa tulit fecitque puer; sudavit, et alsit:
Abstinuit venere et vino. qui Pythia cantat
Tibicen, didicit prius, extimuitque magistrum,
Nunc satis est dixisse, ego mira poëmata pango.
Occupet extremum scabies: mihi turpe relinqui est,
Et, quod non didici, sane nescire fateri.
Ut præco ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas,
Assentatores jubet ad lucrum ire poëta,
Dives agris, dives poscitis in focnore nummis.
Si verò est unctum qui rectè polere possit,
Et spondere levi pro paupere, et eripere atris
420
TRANSLATIONS.
That can distinguish flatterers from friends.
Never delude yourself, nor read your book
Before a brib'd and fawning auditor,
For he'll commend and feign an ecstacy,
Grow pale or weep, do any thing to please:
True friends appear less mov'd than counterfeit;
As men that truly grieve at funerals,
Are not so loud as these that cry for hire.
Wise were the kings who never chose a friend
137
Till, with full cups, they had unmask'd his soul, 490
And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts.
You cannot arm yourself with too much care
Against the smiles of a designing knave.
Litibus implicitum: mirabor si sciet inter-
Noscere mendacem verumque beatus amicum,
Tu seu donáris, seu quid donare voles cui,
Nolito ad versus tibi factos ducere plenum
Lætitiæ. clamabit enim, Pulchrè, bene, recte,
Pallescet super his : etiam stillabit amicis
Ex oculis rorem: saliet, tundet pede terram.
Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt
Et faciunt propè plura dolentibus ex animo: sic
Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur:
Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis,
Et torquere mero, quem perspexisse laborent
An sit amicitia dignus. Si carmina condes,
Nunquam te fallant animi sub vulpe latentes.
430
Miij
138
TRANSLATIONS.
Quintilius, if his advice were ask'd,
Would freely tell you what you should correct,
Or, if you could not, bid you blot it out,
And with more care supply the vacancy;
But if he found you fond and obstinate,
(And apter to defend than mend your faults)
With silence leave you to admire yourself,
And, without rival, hug your darling book.
The prudent care of an impartial friend
Will give you notice of each idle line,
500
Shew what sounds harsh, and what wants ornament,
Or where it is too lavishly bestow'd;
Make you explain all that he finds cbscure,
And with a strict inquiry mark your faults,
Nor for these trifles fear to lose your love.
Quintilio si quid recitares, Corrige, sodes,
Hoc, aiebat, et hoc. melius te posse negares,
Bis terque expertum frustrà? delere jubebat,
Et malè tornatos incudi reddere versus.
Si defendere delictum quàm vertere malles,
Nullam ultra verbum aut operam sumebat inanem,
Quin sine rivali teque et tua solus amares.
Vir bonus et prudens versus reprehendet inertes:
Culpabit duros: incomtis allinet atrum
Transverso calamo signum : ambitiosa recîdet
Ornamenta: parum claris lucem dare çoget:
Arguet ambiguè dictum: mutanda notabit:
440
TRANSLATIONS.
139
Those things which now seem frivolous and slight
Will be of a most serious consequence,
When they have made you once ridiculous.
A poetaster in his raging fit,
(Follow'd and pointed at by fools and boys)
Is dreaded and proscrib'd by men of sense;
They make a lane for the polluted thing,
And fly as from the infection of the plague,
Or from a man whom, for a just revenge,
Fanatic Frenzy sent by Heav'n pursues.
If (in the raving of a frantic Muse)
And, minding more his verses than his way,
Any of these should drop into a well,
Tho' he might burst his lungs to call for help,
No creature would assist or pity him,
Fiet Aristarchus, nec dicet, Cur ego amicum
Offendam in mugis? Hæ nugæ seria ducent
In mala, derisum semel, exceptumque sinistre.
Ut, mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urget,
Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana,
Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntque poëtam,
Qui sapiunt; agitant pueri, incamique sequuntur.
Hic, dum sublimes versus ructatur, et errat,
Si veluti merulis intentus decidit auceps
In puteum, foveamve: licet, Succurrite, longum
Clamet, io, cives; non sit qui tollere curet.
Si quis curet opem ferre, et demittere funem,
510
520
450
460
140
TRANSLATIONG,
But seem to think he fell on purpose in,
Hear how an old Sicilian poet dy'd,
Empedocles, mad to be thought a Cod,
In a cold fit leap'd into Etna's flames.
Give poets leave to make themselves away,
Why should it be a greater sin to kill
Than to keep men alive against their will?
Nor was this chance, but a deliberate choice;
For if Empedocles were now reviv'd,
He would be at his frolic once again
And his pretensions to divinity.
'Tis hard to say whether for sacrilege
Or incest, or some more unheard-of crime,
The rhyming fiend is sent into these men;
But they are all most visibly possess'd,
And, like a baited bear when he breaks loose,
Qui scis, an prudens huc se dejecerit? atque
Servari nolit? dicam, Siculique poëtæ
Narrabo interitum: Deus immortalis haberi
Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus Ætnam
Insiluit. sitjus, liceatque perire poëtis.
Invitum qui servat, idem facit occidenti,
Nec semel hoc fecit: nec, si retractus erit, jam
Fiet homo, et ponet famosæ mortis amorem.
Nec satis apparet cur versus factitet; utrum
Minxerit in patrios cineres, an tristi bidental
Moverit incestus. certè furit, ac velut ursus,
530
470
TRANSLATIONS.
141
Without distinction seize on all they meet:
None ever 'scap'd that came within their reach,
Sticking like leeches, till they burst with blood;
Without remorse insatiably they read,
And never leave till they have read men dead.
Objectos caveæ valuit si frangere clathros,
Indoctum ductumque fugat recitator acerbus.
Quem verò arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo,
Non missura cutem nisi plena cruoris hirudo.
540
476
THE TWENTY SECOND ODE
OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.
VIR
IRTUE, dear Friend! needs no defence ;
The surest guard is innocence:
None knew till guilt created fear
What darts or poison'd arrows were:
Integrity undaunted goes
Thro' Libyan sands or Scythian snows,
Or where Hydaspes' wealthy side
Pays tribute to the Persian pride.
AD ARISTIUM.
ODE XXII.
Vita integritatem et innocentiam ubique est tutam.
INTEGER vitæ, scelerisque purus
Non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu,
Nec ve enatis gravidâ sagittis,
Fusce, pharetrâ :
Sive per Syrtes iter æstuosas,
Sive facturus per inhospitalem
Caucasum, vel quæ loca fabulosus
Lambit Hydaspes.
TRANSLATIONS.
143
For as (by am'rous thoughts betray'd)
Careless in Sabine woods I stray'd)
A grisly foaming wolf unfed,
Met me unarm'd, yet trembling fled.
No beast of more portentous size
In the Hercynian forest lies;
None fiercer, in Numidia bred,
With Carthage were in triumph led.
Set me in the remotest place
That Neptune's frozen arms embrace,
Where angry Jove did never spare
One breath of kind and temp’rate air;
Namque me sylvâ lupus in Sabinâ
Dum meam canto Lalagen, et ultra
Terminum curis vagor expeditus,
Fugit incrmem.
Quale portentum neque militaris
Daunia in latis alit esculetis:
Nec Jubæ tellus generat, leonum
Arida nutrix.
Pone me, pigris ubi nulla campis
Arbor æstivà recreatur aurâ :
Quod latus mundi nebule, malúsque
Jupiter urget:
10
10
20
144
TRANSLATIONS
Set me where on some pathless plain
The swarthy Africans complain,
To see the chariot of the Sun
So near their scorching country run;
The burning zone, the frozen isles,
Shall hear me sing of Calia's smiles:
All cold but in her breast I will despise,
And dare all heat but that in Calia's eyes.
Pone sub curru nimiùm propinqui
Solis, in terrà domibus negatâ :
Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,
Dulcè loquentem.
THE SAME IMITATED.
I.
VIRTUE, dear Friend! needs no defence,
No arms but its own innocence;
Quivers and bows, and poison'd darts,
Are only us'd by guilty hearts.
II.
An honest mind safely alone
May travel thro' the burning zone,
Or thro' the deepest Scythian snows,
Or where the fam'd Hydaspes flows.
28
24
TRANSLATIONS.
$45
+
III.
While rul'd by a resistless fire,
Our great Orinda * I admire,
The hungry wolves that see me stray,
Unarm'd and single, run away.
IV.
Set me in the remotest place
That ever Neptune did embrace;
When there her image fills my breast,
Helicon is not half so blest.
V.
Leave me upon some Libyan plain
So she my fancy entertain,
And when the thirsty monsters meet,
They'll all pay homage to my feet.
VI.
The magic of Orinda's name
Not only can their fierceness tame,
But, if that mighty word I once rehearse,
They seem submissively to roar in verse.
* Mrs. Catharine Philips.
Z
THE SIXTH ODE
OF THE THIRD BOOK OF HOKACE.
Of the Corruption of the Times.
THOSE ills your ancestors have done,
Romans! are now become your own,
And they will cost you dear,
Unless you soon repair
The falling temples, which the Gods provoke,
And statues sully'd yet with sacrilegious smoke.
Propitious Heav'n, that rais'd your fathers high,
For humble grateful piety,
AD ROMANOS.
HOR. LIB III. ODEVI.
•
Corruptos suæ Atatis Mores insectatur.
DELICTA majorum immeritus lues,
Romane: doncc templa refeceris,
désque labentes Deorum, et
Foda nigro simulacra fumo.
Dis te minorem quòd geris, imperas.
Hinc omne principium, huc refer exitum.
TRANSLATIONS.
347
(As it rewarded their respect)
Hath sharply punish'd your neglect.
All empires on the Gods depend;
Begun by their command, at their command they end.
Let Crassus' ghost and Labienus' tell,
How twice by Jove's revenge our legions fell,
And, with insuiting pride,
Shining in Roman spoils, the Parthian victors ride.
The Scythian and Egyptian scum
Had almost ruin'd Rome,
While our seditions took their part,
[dart.
Fill'd each Egyptian sail, and wing'd each Scythian
Dî multa neglecti dederunt
Hesperiæ mala luctuosæ.
Jam bis Monæses, et Pacori manus
Non auspicatos contudit impetus
Nostros, et adjecisse prædam
Torquibus exiguis renidet.
Penè occupatam seditionibus
Delevit urbem Dacus, et Æthiops:
Hic classe formidatus, ille
Missilibus melior sagittis.
10
Nij
148
TRANSLATIONS.
First, those flagitious times
(Pregnant with unknown crimes)
Conspire to violate the nuptial bed,
From which polluted head
Infectious streams of crowding sins began,
And thro' the spurious breed and guilty nation red.
Behold a ripe and melting maid
Bound 'prentice to the wanton trade;
Ionian artists, at a mighty price,
Instruct her in the mysteries of vice;
What nets to spread, where subtle baits to lay,
And with an early hand they form the temper'd clay.
Marry'd, their lessons she improves
By practice of adult'rous loves,
Fœcunda culpæ sæcula, nuptias
Primùm inquinavere, et genus, et domos.
Hoc fonte derivata clades
In patriam, populumque fluxit.
Motus doceri gaudet Ionicos
Matura virgo, et fingitur artubus
Jam nunc, et incestos amores
De tenero meditatur ungui.
Mox juniores quærit adulteros
Inter mariti vina: neque eligit
20
TRANSLATIONS,
149
And scorns the common mean design
To take advantage of her husband's wine,
Or snatch, in some dark place,
A hasty illegitimate embrace.
No! the brib'd husband knows of all,
And bids her rise when lovers call.
Hither a merchant from the Straights,
Grown wealthy by forbidden freights,
Or city cannibal, repairs,
Who feeds upon the flesh of heirs;
Convenient brutes! whose tributary flame
Pays the full price of lust, and gilds the slighted shame
'Twas not the spawn of such as these
That dy'd with Punic blood the conquer'd seas,
And quash'd the stern
acides;
Cui donet impermissa raptim
Gaudia, luminibus remotis:
Sed jussa coràm non sine conscio
Surgit marito: seu vocat institor,
Seu navis Hispanæ magister,
Dedecorum pretiosus emptor.
Non his juventus crta parentibus
Infecit æquor sanguine Punico,
30
Nij
150
TRANSLATIONS.
}
Made the proud Asian monarch feel
How weak his gold was against Europe's steel,
Forc'd ev❜n dire Hannibal to yield,
And won the long-disputed world at Zama's fatal
But soldiers of a rustic mould,
Rough, hardy, season'd, manly, bold,
Either they dug the stubborn ground,
[field:
Or thro' hewn woods their weighty strokes did sound;
And after the declining sun
Had chang'd the shadows, and their task was done,
Home with their weary team they took their way,
And drown'd in friendly bowls the labour of the day.
Pyrrhúmque, et ingentem cecidit
Antiochum, Annibalémque dirum :
Sed rusticorum mascula militum
Proles, Sabellis docta ligonibus
Versare glebas, et severæ
Matris ad arbitrium recisos.
40
Portare fustes, sol ubi montium
Mutaret umbras, et juga demeret
Bobus fatigatis, amicum
Tempus agens abeunte curru,
TRANSLATIONS.
151
Time sensibly all things impairs;
Our fathers have been worse than their's,
And we than our's; next age will see
A race more profligate than we
(With all the pains we take) have skill enough to be.
Damnosa quid non imminuit dies?
Ætas parentum pejor avis tulit
Nos nequiores mox daturos
Progeniem vitiosiorem.
78
SILENUS.
VIRGIL'S SIXTH ECLOGUE.
THE ARGUMENT.
TWO young Shepherds, Chromis and Mnasylus, having been often pro.
mised a song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep in this eclogue; where
they bind him hand and foot, and then claim his promise. Silenus, finding
they would be put off no longer, begins his song, in which he describes the
formation of the universe, and the original of animals, according to the
Epicurean philosophy; and then runs through the most surprising trans-
formations which have happened in Nature since her birth. This eclogue
was designed as a compliment to Syro the Epicurean, who instructed Vir-
gil and Varus in the principles of that philosophy. Silenus acts as tutor,
Chromis and Mnasylus as the two pupils.
I FIRST of Romans, stoop'd to rural strains,
Nor blush'd to dwell among Sicilian Swains.
When my Thalia rais'd her bolder voice,
And kings and battles were her lofty choice,
Phoebus did kindly humbler thoughts infuse,
And with this whisper check th' aspiring Muse.
SILENUS.
ECLOGA VI.
Faunorum et Satyrorum et Sylvanorum delectatio.
PRIMA
RIMA Syracosio dignata est ludere versu,
Nostra nec erubuit sylvas habitare Thalia.
Cùm canerem reges, et prælia, Cynthius aurem
Vellit, et admonuit: Pastorem, Tityre, pingucs
TRANSLATION3.
153
A shepherd, Tityrus! his flocks should feed,
And chuse a subject suited to his reed.
Thus I (while each ambitious pen prepares
To write thy praises, Varus! and thy wars)
My past'ral tribute in low numbers pay,
And tho' I once presum'd, I only now obey.
But yet (if any with indulgent eyes
Can look on this, and such a trifle prize)
Thee only, Varus! our glad swains shall sing,
And ev'ry grove and ev'ry echo ring.
Phoebus delights in Varus' fav'rite name,
And none who under that protection came
Was ever ill receiv'd, or unsecure of fame.
Proceed, my Muse!
Young Chromis and Mnasylus chanc'd to stray
Where (sleeping in a cave) Silenus lay,
10
20
Pascere oportet oves, deductum dicere carmen.
Nunc ego (namque super tibi erunt, qui dicere laudes,
Vare, tuas cupiant, et tristia condere bella)
Agrestem tenui meditabor arundine Musam.
Non injussa cano. si quis tamen hæc quoque, si quis
Captus amore leget; te nostræ, Vare, myricæ,
Te nemus omne canet. nec Phoebo gratior ulla est,
Quam sibi que Vari præscripsit pagina nomen.
Pergite, Pierides. Chromis et Mnasylus in antre
Silenum pueri somno videre jacentem,
10
154
TRANSLATIONS.
Whose constant cups fly fuming to his brain,
And always boil in each extended vein :
His trusty flagon, full of potent juice,
Was hanging by, worn thin with age and use;
Dropp'd from his head, a wreath lay on the ground;
In haste they seiz'd him, and in haste they bound;
Eager, for both had been deluded long
With fruitless hope of his instructive song;
But while, with conscious fear they doubtful stood,
Egle, the fairest Naïs of the flood,
With a vermilion dye his temples stain'd.
Waking, he smil'd, "And must I then be chain'd ?
"Loose me," he cry'd; "'twas boldly done to find
"And view a God, but 'tis too bold to bind.
"The promis'd verse no longer I'll delay,
"(She shall be satisfy'd another way)."
Inflatum hesterno venas, ut semper, Iaccho,
Serta procul tantùm capiti delapsa jacebant:
Et gravis attritâ pendebat cantharus ansà.
Aggressi (nam sæpe senex spe carminis ambo
Luserat) injiciunt ipsis ex vincula sertis.
Addit se sociam, timidisque supervenit Egle:
Ægle Naïadum pulcherrima, jamque videnti
Sanguineis frontem moris, et tempora pingit.
Ille dolum ridens, Quò vincula nectitis? inquit,
Solvite me, pueri. satis est potuisse videri.
30
20
TRANSLATIONS.
155
With that he rais'd his tuneful voice aloud,
The Knotty oaks their list'ning branches bow'd, 40
And savage beste and sylvan Gods did crowd:
For, lo! he sung the world's stupendous birth,
How scatter'd seeds of sea, and air, and earth,
And purer fire, thro' universal night,
And empty space did fruitfully unite;
From whence th' innumerable race of things
By circular successive order springs.
50
By what degrees his earth's compacted sphere
Was harden'd, woods, and rocks, and towns, to bear;
How sinking waters (the firm land to drain)
Fill'd the capacious deep, and form'd the main,
While from above, adorn'd with radiant light,
A new-born sun surpris'd the dazzled sight;
Carmina quæ vultis, cognoscite: carmina vobis;
Huic aliud mercedis erit. simul incipit ipse.
Tum verò in numerum Faunó que ferás que videres
Ludere, tum rigidas motare cacumina quercus.
Nec tantum Phoebo gaudet Parnassia rupes:
Nec tantum Rhodope mirantur et Ismarus Orphea.
Namque canebat, uti magnum par inane coacta
Semina terrarumque, animæque, marisve fuissent,
Et liquidi simul ignis: ut his exordia primis
Omnia, et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis.
Tum durare solum, et discludere Nerea ponto
Cœperit, et rerum paulatim sumere formas.
31
156
TRANSLATIONS
How vapours turn'd to clouds obscure the sky,
And clouds dissolv'd the thirsty ground supply;
How the first forest rais'd its shady head, [tains fed.
Till when few wand'ring beasts on unknown moun-
Then Pyrrha's stony race rose from the ground,
Old Saturn reign'd, with golden plenty crown'd,
And bold Prometheus (whose untam'd desire
Rivall'd the Sun with his own heav'nly fire)
Now doom'd the Scythian vulture's endless prey,
Severely pays for animating clay.
60
He nam'd the nymph (for who but Gods could tell?)
Into whose arms the lovely Hylas fell.
Alcides wept in vain for Hylas lost;
Hylas in vain resounds thro' all the coast.
He with compassion told Pasiphae's fault,
Ah! wretched Queen! whence came that guilty
thought?
Jamque novum ut terræ stupeant lucessere solem,
Altius atque cadant submotis nubibus imbres :
Incipiant sylvæ cum primum surgere, cùmque
Rara per ignotos errent animalia montes.
Hinc lapides Pyrrhæ jactos, Saturnia regna,
Caucasiásque refert volucres, furtúmque Promethei.
His adjungit, Hylan nautæ quo fonte relictum
Clamâssent: ut litus, Hyla, Hyla, omne sonaret.
Et fortunatam, si nunquam armenta fuissent,
Pasiphaën nivei solatur amore juvenci.
40
TRANSLATIONJ.
157
The maids of Argos, who with frantic cries,
And imitated lowings fill'd the skies,
(Tho' metamorphos'd in their wild conceit)
Did never burn with such unnat'ral heat.
Ah! wretched Queen! while you on mountains stray,
He on soft flow'rs his snowy side does lay,
Or seeks in herds a more proportion'd love:
*
70
Surround, my nymphs," she cries, "surround the
"Perhaps some footsteps printed in the clay [grove;
"Will to my love direct your wand'ring way ;
"Perhaps, while thus in search of him I roam,
"My happier rivals have entic'd him home."
Ah! Virgo infelix! quæ te dementia cepit ?
Protides implêrunt falsis mugitibus agros:
At non tam turpes pecudum tamen ulla secuta est
Concubitus, quamvis collo timuisset aratrum,
Et sæpe in lævi quæsisset cornua fronte.
Ah! Virgo infelix! tu nunc in montibus erras!
Ille, latus niveum molli fultus hyacintho,
Ilice sub nigra pallentes ruminat herbas,
50
[phæ
Aut aliquam in magno sequitur grege. claudite nym-
Dictææ nymphæ, memorum jam claudite saltus :
Si quà forte ferant oculis sese obvia nostris
Errabunda bovis vestigia. forsitan illum
Aut herba captum viridi, aut armenta secutum,
Perducant aliqua stabula ad Gortynia vaccæ,
O
Go
158
TRANSLATIONS,
He sung how Atalanta was betray'd
By those Hesperian baits her lover laid,
And the sad sisters who to trees were turn'd,
While with the world th' ambitious brother burn'd.
All he describ' was present to their eyes,
And, as he rais'd his verse the poplars seem'd to rise.
He taught which Muse did by Apollo's will
Guide wand'ring Gallus to th' Aonian hill:
(Which place the God for solemn meetings chose) go
With deep respect the learned senate rose,
And Linus thus (deputed by the rest)
The hero's welcome and their thanks exprest:
"This harp of old to Hesiod did belong,
"To this, the Muse's gift, join thy harmonious song;
"Charm'd by these strings, trees starting from the
ground
"Have follow'd with delight the pow'rful sound.
Tum canit Hesperidum miratam mala puellam:
Tum Phaethontiadas musco circumdat amaræ
Corticis, atque solo proceras erigit alnos.
Tum canit, errantem permessi ad Alumina Gallum
A onas in montes ut duxerit una sororum;
Utque viro Phoebi chorus adsurrexerit omnis;
Ut Linus hæc illi divino carmine pastor,
Floribus atque apio crines ornatus amaro,
Dixerit, Hos tibi dant calamos (en accipe) Musæ,
Ascræo quos ante seni: quibus ille solebat
70
TRANSLATIONS.
159
"Thus consecrated, thy Grynæan grove
"Shall have no equal in Apollo's love."
100
Why should I speak of the Megarian maid;
For love perfidious, and by love betray'd?
And her who round with barking monsters arm'd,
The wand'ring Greeks (ah! frighted men!) alarm'd,
Whose only hope on shatter'd ships depends,
While fierce sea-dogs devour the mangled friends ?
Or tell the Thracian tyrant's alter'd shape,
And dire revenge of Philomela's rape,
Who to those woods directs her mournful course,
Where she had suffer'd by incestuous force,
While, loath to leave the palace too well known, 110
Progné flies hov'ring round, and thinks it still her own?
Cantando rigidas deducere montibus ornos.
His tibi Grynæi nemoris dicatur origo:
Nequis sit lucus, quo se plus jactet Apollo.
Quid loquar aut Scyllam Nisi, quam fama secuta est,
Candida succinctam latrantibus inguina monstris
Dulichias vexasse rates, et gurgite in alto
Ah timidos nautas canibus lacerasse marinis:
Aut ut mutatos Terei narraverit artus ?
Quas illi Philomela dapes, quæ dona parârit?
Quo cursu deserta petiverit, et quibus antè
Infelix sua tecta supervolitaverit alis ?
80
O ij
160
TRANSLATIONS.
Whatever near Eurota's happy stream,
With laurels crown'd, had been Apollo's theme,
Silenus sings; the neighb'ring rocks reply,
And send his mystic numbers thro' the sky;
Till Night began to spread her gloomy veil,
And call'd the counted sheep from ev'ry dale;
The weaker light unwillingly declin'd,
And to prevailing shades the murm'ring world re-
sign'd.
Omnia quæ, Phobo quondam meditante, beatus
Audii: Eurotas, jussitque ediscere lauros,
Ille canit. pulsæ referunt ad sidera valles.
119
Cogere donec oves stabulis, numerúmque referre
Jussit, et invito processit vesper Olympo.
$6
PART OF THE FIFTH SCENE OF THE SECOND ACT IN
GUARINI'S PASTOR FIDO,
TRANSLATED.
An!
H! happy grove! dark and secure retreat
Of sacred Silence, Rest's eternal seat,
How well your cool and unfrequented shade
Suits with the chaste retirements of a maid!
Oh! if kind Heav'n had been so much my friend
To make my fate upon my choice depend,
All my ambition I would here confine,
And only this Elysium should be mine.
PART OF THE FIFTH SCENE OF THE SECOND ACT IN
GUARINI'S PASTOR FIDO.
AMARILLI.
CARE selue beate,
E voi solinghi, e taciturni horrori
Di riposo, e di pace alberghi veri.
O quanto volentieri
A riuederui i torno, e se le stelle
M' hauesser dato insorte
Di viuer à me stessa, e di far vita
Conforme à le mie voglie;
To già co campi Elisi
O iij
162
TRANSLATIONS.
Fond men, by passion wilfully betray'd,
Adore those idols which their fancy made;
Purchasing riches with our time and care,
We lose our freedom in a gilded snare;
And having all, all to ourselves refuse,
Oppress'd with blessings which we fear to use.
Fame is at best but an inconstant good,
Vain are the boasted titles of our blood;
We soonest lose what we most highly prize,
And with our youth our short-liv'd beauty dies.
Fortunato giardin de semidei
La vostr' ombra gentil non cangerei.
"Che se ben dritto miro
Questi beni mortali
"Altro non son che mali :
"Men' hà, chi più, n' abbonda,
"E posseduto è più, che non possede,
"Ricchezze nò, ma lacci
"De l' altrui libertate.
"Che val ne più verdi anni
"Titolo di bellezza,
"O fama d'honestate,
"E'n mortal sangue nobiltà celeste:
"Tante grazie del cielo, e de la terra.
Qui larghi, e lieti campi
"E là felici piagge,
10
10
20
TRANSLATIONS.
163
20
In vain our fields and flocks increase our store,
If our abundance makes us wish for more:
How happy is the harmless country-maid,
Who, rich by nature, scorns superfiuous aid!
Whose modest clothes no wanton eyes invite,
But, like her soul preserves the native white;
Whose little store her well-taught mind does please,
Nor pinch'd with want, nor cloy'd with wanton ease;
Who, free from storms, which on the great ones fall;
Makes but few wishes, and enjoys them all;
"Fecondi paschi, e più fecondo armento,
"Se'n tanti beni il cor non è contento?"
Felice pastorella,
Cui cinge à pena il fiance
Pouera sì, ma schietta,
E candida gonnella.
Ricca sol di se stessa,
E de le grazie di Natura adorna,
Che'n dolce pouertate
Nè pouertà conosce, nè i disagi
De le ricchezze sente,
Ma tutto quel possiede
Per cui desio d'hauer non la tormenta;
Nuda sì, ma contenta.
Co doni di natura
I doni di natura anco nudrica;
30
40
164
TRANSLATIONS.
No care but love can discompose her breast,
Love! of all cares the sweetest and the best;
While on sweet grass her bleating charge does lie,
Our happy lover feeds upon her eye;
Not one on whom or Gods or men impose,
But one whom Love has for this lover chose,
Under some fav'rite myrtle's shady boughs,
They speak their passions in repeated vows,
Col latte, il latte auniua,
E col dolce de l' api
Condisce il mel de le natie dolcezze.
Quel fonte ond'ella bene,
Quel solo anco la bagna, e la consiglia;
Paga lei, pago il mondo:
Per lei di nembi il ciel s'oscura indarno,
E di grandine s'arma,
Che la sua pouertà nulla pauenta:
Nuda sì, ma contenta.
Sola una dolce, e d'ogn' assanno sgombra
Cura le sta nel core.
Pasce le verdi herbette
La greggia à lei commessa, ed ella pasce
De suo' begli occhi il pastorello amante,
Non qual le destinaro
O gli huomini, o le stelle,
Ma qual le diede Amore.
E tra l'ombrose piante
30
*?
62
TRANSLATIONS.
165
And whilst a blush confesses how she burns,
His faithful heart makes as sincere returns;
Thus in the arms of Love and Peace they lie,
And, while they live, their flames can never die.
D'vn fauorito lor Mirteto adorno
Vagheggiata il vagheggia, nè per lui
Sente foco d'amor, che non gli scopra,
Ned' ella scopre ardor, ch' egli non senta,
Nuda sì, ma contenta.
O vera vita, che non sù che sia
Morire innanzi morte.
40
CONTENTS
OF ROSCOMMON.
THE Life of the Author,
Page
5
POEMS TO THE AUTHOR.
To the Earl of Roscommon, on his excellent
Essay on Tran:lsed Verse. By John Dryden,
Ad illustrissimum Virum, Dom. Comit. de Ros-
common. Per Carelus Dryden,
To the Earl of Roscommon, on his excellent
Poem. By Knightly Chetwood,
To the Earl of Roscommon, on his excellent
Essay on Translated Verse. By J. Amherst,
Upon the Earl of Roscommon's Translation of
Horace De Arte Poetica, &c. By Edmund
Waller,
Cum Opus suum Manuscriptum, &c. K. C.
MISCELLANIES.
An Essay on Translated Verse,
Tentamen, sive Specimen de Poetis Transferen-
dis, &c. By Mr. Eusden,
The Dream,
17
20
22
25
27
30
31
ib.
65
168
CONTENTS.
The Ghost of the Old House of Commons to the
New One,
Ross's Ghost,
A Paraphrase on Psalm cxlviii.
Page
66
68
69
Ode upon Solitude,
73
On the Death of a Lady's Dog,
75
On the Day of Judgment,
A Prospect of Death,
76
79
87
5 2
On Mr. Dryden's Religio Laici,
The Prayer of Jeremiah paraphrased,
Song. On a young Lady who sung finely, &c.
PROLOGUES, &c.
Prologue to Pompey. A tragedy. Translated
A
by Irs. Catharine Philips from the French of
Monsieur Corneille,
Prologue spoken to his Royal Highness the Duke
of York, at Edinburgh,
Epilogue to Alexander the Great,
94
95
97
99
TRANSLATIONS.
Preface to Horace's Art of Poetry,
ΙΟΙ
Horace of the Art of Poetry,
De Arte Poetica Liber, ad Pisones,
103
ib.
CONTENTS.
169
Page
The Twenty-second Ode of the First Book of
Horace,
142
Ad Aristium. Ode xxii.
ib.
The same imitated,
144
The Sixth Ode of the Third Book of Horace,
146
Ad Romanos. Hor. Lib. III. Ode vi.
ib.
Silenus. Virgil's Sixth Eclogue,
152
Silenus. Ecloga vi.
ib.
Part of the fifth scene of the second act in
Guarini's Pastor Fido,
The same, Italian,
161
ib
THE END.
7540
?
$
1.
: