Chapter II: Part 2

Because Democritus thinks wretched Art
Too mean with Genius to sustain a part,
To Helicon allowing no pretence,
'Till the mad bard has lost all common sense;
Many there are, their nails who will not pare,
Or trim their beards, or bathe, or take the air:
For _he_, no doubt, must be a bard renown'd,
_That_ head with deathless laurel must be crown'd,
Tho' past the pow'r of Hellebore insane,
Which no vile Cutberd's razor'd hands profane.
Ah luckless I, each spring that purge the bile!
Or who'd write better? but 'tis scarce worth while:
Nil tanti est: ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.
Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo;
Unde parentur opes; quid alat formetque poëtam;
Quid deceat, quid non; quò virtus, quò ferat error,

Scribendi rectè, sapere est et principium et fons.
Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt ostendere chartae;
Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequentur.
Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis;
Quo fit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hospes;
Quod fit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quae
Partes in bellum missi ducis; ille profectò
Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique.
So as mere hone, my services I pledge;
Edgeless itself, it gives the steel an edge:
No writer I, to writers thus impart
The nature and the duty of their art:
Whence springs the fund; what forms the bard, to know;
What nourishes his pow'rs, and makes them grow;
What's fit or unfit; whither genius tends;
And where fond ignorance and dulness ends.

In Wisdom, Moral Wisdom, to excell,
Is the chief cause and spring of writing well.
Draw elements from the Socratick source,
And, full of matter, words will rise of course.
He who hath learnt a patriot's glorious flame;
What friendship asks; what filial duties claim;
The ties of blood; and secret links that bind
The heart to strangers, and to all mankind;
The Senator's, the Judge's peaceful care,
And sterner duties of the Chief in war!
These who hath studied well, will all engage
In functions suited to their rank and age.
Respicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo
Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces.
Interdum speciosa locis, morataque rectè
Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte,
Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,
Quam versus inopes rerum, nugaeque canorae.

Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo
Musa loqui, praeter laudem, nullius avaris.
Romani pueri longis rationibus assem
Discunt in partes centum diducere. Dicat
Filius Albini, si de quincunce remota est
Uncia, quid superet? poteras dixisse, triens. Eu!
Rem poteris servare tuam. Redit uncia: quid fit?
On Nature's pattern too I'll bid him look,
And copy manners from her living book.
Sometimes 'twill chance, a poor and barren tale,
Where neither excellence nor art prevail,
With now and then a passage of some merit,
And Characters sustain'd, and drawn with spirit,
Pleases the people more, and more obtains,
Than tuneful nothings, mere poetick strains.

_The Sons of Greece_ the fav'ring Muse inspir'd,
Inflam'd their souls, and with true genius fir'd:
Taught by the Muse, they sung the loftiest lays,
And knew no avarice but that of praise.
_The Lads of Rome_, to study fractions bound,
Into an hundred parts can split a pound.
"Say, Albin's Hopeful! from five twelfths an ounce,
And what remains?"--"a Third."--"Well said, young Pounce!
You're a made man!--but add an ounce,--what then?"
"A Half." "Indeed! surprising! good again!"

Semis. An haec animos aerugo et cura peculi
Cum semel imbuerit speramus carmina singi
Posse linenda cedro, et levi servanda cupresso?

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare poetae;
Aut simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae.
Quicquid praecipies, esto brevis: ut eito dicta
Percipiant animi dociles, tencantque fideles.
Omni supervacuum pleno de pectore manat.
Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris:
Ne, quodcumque volet, poscat fibi fabula credi;
Neu pransea Lamiae vivum puerum extrahat alvo.
Centuriae seniorum agitant expertia frugis:
Celsi praetereunt austera poemata Rhamnes.
Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo

From minds debas'd with such a sordid lust,
Canker'd and eaten up with this vile rust,
Can we a verse, that gives the Genius scope,
Worthy the Cedar, and the Cypress, hope?

Instruction to convey and give delight,
Or both at once to compass, Poets write:
Short be your precepts, and th' impression strong,
That minds may catch them quick, and hold them long!
The bosom full, and satisfied the taste,
All that runs over will but run to waste.
Fictions, to please, like truths must meet the eye,
Nor must the Fable tax our faith too high.
Shall Lamia in our fight her sons devour,
And give them back alive the self-same hour?
The Old, if _Moral's_ wanting, damn the Play;
And _Sentiment_ disgusts the Young and Gay.
He who instruction and delight can blend,
Please with his fancy, with his moral mend,
Hic meret aera liber Sofiis, hic et mare transit,
Et longum noto scriptori prorogat aevum.

Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus.
Nam neque chorda sonum reddit, quem vult manus et mens;

Poscentique gravem persaepe remittit acutum:
Nec semper feriet, quodcumque minabitur, arcus.
Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis
Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit,
Aut humana parum cavit natura quid ergo est?
Ut scriptor si peccat idem librarius usque,
Quamvis est monitus, veniâ caret; ut citharoedus
Ridetur, chordâ qui semper oberrat eâdem;
Hits the nice point, and every vote obtains:
His work a fortune to the Sosii gains;
Flies over seas, and on the wings of Fame
Carries from age to age the writer's deathless name.

Yet these are faults that we may pardon too:
For ah! the string won't always answer true;
But, spite of hand and mind, the treach'rous harp
Will sound a flat, when we intend a sharp:
The bow, not always constant and the same,
Will sometimes carry wide, and lose its aim.
But in the verse where many beauties shine,
I blame not here and there a feeble line;
Nor take offence at ev'ry idle trip,
Where haste prevails, or nature makes a slip.
What's the result then? Why thus stands the case.
As _the Transcriber_, in the self-same place
Who still mistakes, tho' warn'd of his neglect,
No pardon for his blunders can expect;
Or as _the Minstrel_ his disgrace must bring,
Who harps for ever on the same false string;
Sic mihi qui multum cessat, fit Choerilus ille,
Quem bis terve bonum, cum risu miror; et idem
Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.
Verum operi longo fas est obrepere somnum.

Ut pictura, poësis: erit quae, si propius stes,
Te capiat magis; et quaedam, si longius abstes:
Haec amat obscurum; volet haec sub luce videri,
Judicis argutum quae non formidat acumen:
Haec placuit semel; haec decies repetita placebit.

O major juvenum, quamvis et voce paternâ
Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis; hoc tibi dictum
Tolle memor: certis medium et tolerabile rebus
_The Poet_ thus, from faults scarce ever free,
Becomes a very Chaerilus to me;
Who twice or thrice, by some adventure rare,
Stumbling on beauties, makes me smile and stare;
_Me_, who am griev'd and vex'd to the extreme,
If Homer seem to nod, or chance to dream:
Tho' in a work of length o'erlabour'd sleep
At intervals may, not unpardon'd, creep.

Poems and Pictures are adjudg'd alike;
Some charm us near, and some at distance strike:
_This_ loves the shade; _this_ challenges the light,
Daring the keenest Critick's Eagle sight;
_This_ once has pleas'd; _this_ ever will delight.

O thou, my Piso's elder hope and pride!
tho' well a father's voice thy steps can guide;
tho' inbred sense what's wise and right can tell,
remember this from me, and weigh it well!
In certain things, things neither high nor proud,
_Middling_ and _passable_ may be allow'd.
Rectè concedi: consultus juris, et actor
Causarum mediocris, abest virtute diserti
Messallae, nec scit quantum Cascellius Aulus;
Sed tamen in pretio est: mediocribus esse poëtis
Non homines, non Dî, non concessere columnae.
Ut gratas inter mensas symphonia discors,
Et crassum unguentum, et Sardo cum melle papaver
Offendunt, poterat duci quia coena sine istis;
Sic animis natum inventumque poëma juvandis,
Si paulum summo decessit, vergit ad imum.

* * * * *

Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abstinet armis;
Indoctusque pilae, discive, trochive, quiescit;
Ne spissae risum tollant impune coronae:
Qui nescit versus, tamen audet fingere. Quid nî?
A _moderate_ proficient in the laws,
A _moderate_ defender of a cause,
Boasts not Messala's pleadings, nor is deem'd
Aulus in Jurisprudence; yet esteem'd:
But _middling Poet's, or degrees in Wit,_
Nor men, nor Gods, nor niblick-polls admit.
At festivals, as musick out of tune,
Ointment, or honey rank, disgust us soon,
Because they're not essential to the guest,
And might be spar'd, Unless the very best;
Thus Poetry, so exquisite of kind,
Of Pleasure born, to charm the soul design'd,
If it fall short but little of the first,
Is counted last, and rank'd among the worst.
The Man, unapt for sports of fields and plains,
From implements of exercise abstains;
For ball, or quoit, or hoop, without the skill,
Dreading the croud's derision, he sits still:
In Poetry he boasts as little art,
And yet in Poetry he dares take part:
Liber et ingenuus; praesertim census equestrem
Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni.

* * * * *

Tu nihil invitâ dices faciesve Minervâ:
Id tibi judicium est, ea mens: si quid tamen olim
Scripseris, in Metii descendat judicis aures,
Et patris, et nostras; nonumque prematur in annum.
Membranis intus positis, delere licebit
Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti.

* * * * *

Silvestres homines sacer interpresque Deorum
Caedibus et victu foedo deterruit Orpheus;
Dictus ob hoc lenire tigres rabidosque leones.
Dictus et Amphion, Thebanae conditor arcis,
Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blandâ.
And why not? he's a Gentleman, with clear
Good forty thousand sesterces a year;
A freeman too; and all the world allows,
"As honest as the skin between his brows!"
Nothing, in spite of Genius, YOU'LL commence;
Such is your judgment, such your solid sense!
But if you mould hereafter write, the verse
To _Metius_, to your _Sire_ to _me_, rehearse.
Let it sink deep in their judicious ears!
Weigh the work well; _and keep it back nine years_!
Papers unpublish'd you may blot or burn:
A word, once utter'd, never can return.

The barb'rous natives of the shaggy wood
From horrible repasts, and ads of blood,
Orpheus, a priest, and heav'nly teacher, brought,
And all the charities of nature taught:
Whence he was said fierce tigers to allay,
And sing the Savage Lion from his prey,
Within the hollow of AMPHION'S shell
Such pow'rs of found were lodg'd, so sweet a spell!
Ducere quo vellet suit haec sapientia quondam,
publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis;
concubitù prohibere vago; dare jura maritis;
Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno.
Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit post hos insignis Homerus
Tyrtaeusque mares animos in Martia bella
Versibus exacuit dictae per carmina sortes,
Et vitae monstrata via est; et gratia regum

That stones were said to move, and at his call,
Charm'd to his purpose, form'd the Theban Wall.
The love of Moral Wisdom to infuse
_These_ were the Labours of THE ANCIENT MUSE.
"To mark the limits, where the barriers stood
'Twixt Private Int'rest, and the Publick Good;
To raise a pale, and firmly to maintain
The bound, that fever'd Sacred from Profane;
To shew the ills Promiscuous Love should dread,
And teach the laws of the Connubial Bed;
Mankind dispers'd, to Social Towns to draw;
And on the Sacred Tablet grave the Law."
Thus fame and honour crown'd the Poet's line;
His work immortal, and himself divine!
Next lofty Homer, and Tyrtaeus strung
Their Epick Harps, and Songs of Glory sung;
Sounding a charge, and calling to the war
The Souls that bravely feel, and nobly dare,
In _Verse_ the Oracles their sense make known,
In Verse the road and rule of life is shewn;
Pieriis tentata modis, ludusque repertus,
Et longorum operum finis j ne forte pudori
Sit tibi Musa lyne folers, et cantor Apollo,

Natura sieret laudabile carmen, an arte,
Quaesitum ess. Ego nec studium sine divite vena,
Nec rude quid possit video ingenium: alterius sic
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
_Verse_ to the Poet royal favour brings,
And leads the Muses to the throne of Kings;
_Verse_ too, the varied Scene and sports prepares,
Brings rest to toil, and balm to all our cares.
deem then with rev'rence of the glorious fire,
breath'd by the muse, the mistress of the lyre!
blush not to own her pow'r, her glorious flame;
nor think Apollo, lord of song, thy shame!

Whether good verse of Nature is the fruit,
Or form'd by Art, has long been in dispute.
But what can Labour in a barren foil,
Or what rude Genius profit without toil?
The wants of one the other must supply
Each finds in each a friend and firm ally.
Much has the Youth, who pressing in the race
Pants for the promis'd goal and foremost place,
Suffer'd and done; borne heat, and cold's extremes,
And Wine and Women scorn'd, as empty dreams,

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 sateri.

* * * * *

Ut praeco, ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas;
Assentatores jubet ad lucrum ire poëta
Dives agris, dives positis in foenore nummis.
Si vero est, unctum qui rectè ponere possit,
Et spondere levi pro paupere, et eripere artis
Litibus implicitum; mirabor, si sciet inter--
Noscere mendacem verumque beatus amicum.
The Piper, who the Pythian Measure plays,
In fear of a hard matter learnt the lays:
But if to desp'rate verse I would apply,
What needs instruction? 'tis enough to cry;
"I can write Poems, to strike wonder blind!
Plague take the hindmost! Why leave _me_ behind?
Or why extort a truth, so mean and low,
That what I have not learnt, I cannot know?"

As the sly Hawker, who a sale prepares,
Collects a croud of bidders for his Wares,
The Poet, warm in land, and rich in cash,
Assembles flatterers, brib'd to praise his trash.
But if he keeps a table, drinks good wine,
And gives his hearers handsomely to dine;
If he'll stand bail, and 'tangled debtors draw
Forth from the dirty cobwebs of the law;
Much shall I praise his luck, his sense commend,
If he discern the flatterer from the friend.
Tu seu donaris seu quid donare voles cui;
Nolito ad versus tibi factos ducere plenum
Laetitiae; clamabit enim, Pulchrè, bene, rectè!
Pallescet; super his etiam stillabit amicis
Ex oculis rorem; saliet; tundet pede terram.
Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt
Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo: sic
Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur.
Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis,
Et torquere mero quem perspexisse laborant
An sit amicitia dignus: si carmina condes,
Nunquam te fallant animi sub vulpe latentes.
Quintilio si quid recitares: Corrige sodes
Hoc, aiebat, et hoc: melius te posse negares
Is there a man to whom you've given aught?
Or mean to give? let no such man be brought
To hear your verses! for at every line,
Bursting with joy, he'll cry, "Good! rare! divine!"
The blood will leave his cheek; his eyes will fill
With tears, and soon the friendly dew distill:
He'll leap with extacy, with rapture bound;
Clap with both hands; with both feet beat the ground.
As mummers, at a funeral hir'd to weep,
More coil of woe than real mourners keep,
More mov'd appears the laugher in his sleeve,
Than those who truly praise, or smile, or grieve.
Kings have been said to ply repeated bowls,
Urge deep carousals, to unlock the souls
Of those, whose loyalty they wish'd to prove,
And know, if false, or worthy of their love:
You then, to writing verse if you're inclin'd,
Beware the Spaniel with the Fox's mind!

Quintilius, when he heard you ought recite,
Cried, "prithee, alter _this_! and make _that _right!"
Bis terque expertum frustra? delere jubebat,
Et male ter natos incudi reddere versus.
Si defendere delictum, quam vortere, malles;
Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam insumebat inanem,
Quin sine rivali teque et tua folus amares.

Vir bonus et prudens versus reprehendet inertes;
Culpabit duros; incomptis allinet atrum
Transverso calamo signum; ambitiosa recidet
Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget;
Arguet ambiguè dictum; mutanda notabit;
Fiet Aristarchus; non dicet, Cur ego amicum
Offendam in nugis? Hae migae feria ducent
But if your pow'r to mend it you denied,
Swearing that twice and thrice in vain you tried;
"Then blot it out! (he cried) it must be terse:
Back to the anvil with your ill-turn'd verse!"
Still if you chose the error to defend,
Rather than own, or take the pains to mend,
He said no more; no more vain trouble took;
But left you to admire yourself and book.

The Man, in whom Good Sense and Honour join,
Will blame the harsh, reprove the idle line;
The rude, all grace neglected or forgot,
Eras'd at once, will vanish at his blot;
Ambitious ornaments he'll lop away;
On things obscure he'll make you let in day,
Loose and ambiguous terms he'll not admit,
And take due note of ev'ry change that's fit,
A very ARISTARCHUS he'll commence;
Not coolly say--"Why give my friend offence?
These are but trifles!"--No; these trifles lead
To serious mischiefs, if he don't succeed;
In mala derisum semel, exceptumque sinistre,
Ut mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urget,
Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana;
Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntque poetam,
Qui sapiunt: agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur.
Hic, dum sublimis versus ructatur, et errat,
Si veluti menilis intentus decidit auceps
In puteum, soveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum
Clamet, in cives: non sit qui tollere curet.
Si curet quis opem serre, et demittere sunem;
Qui scis, an prudens huc se projecerit, atque
Servari nolet? dicam: Siculique poetae
Narrabo interitum.

While the poor friend in dark disgrace sits down,
The butt and laughing-stock of all the town,
As one, eat up by Leprosy and Itch,
Moonstruck, Posses'd, or hag-rid by a Witch,
A Frantick Bard puts men of sense to flight;
His slaver they detest, and dread his bite:
All shun his touch; except the giddy boys,
Close at his heels, who hunt him down with noise,
While with his head erect he threats the skies,
Spouts verse, and walks without the help of eyes;
Lost as a blackbird-catcher, should he pitch
Into some open well, or gaping ditch;
Tho' he call lustily "help, neighbours, help!"
No soul regards him, or attends his yelp.
Should one, too kind, to give him succour hope,
Wish to relieve him, and let down a rope;
Forbear! (I'll cry for aught that you can tell)
By sheer design he jump'd into the well.
He wishes not you should preserve him, Friend!
Know you the old Sicilian Poet's end?
Deus immortalis haberi.

Dum cupit Empedocles, ardeatem frigidus aetnam
Infiluit. sit fas, liceatque perire poetis.
Invitum qui fervat, idem facit occidenti.
Nec semel hoc fecit; nec si retractus erit jam,
Fiet homo, et ponet famosae mortis amorem.
Nec fatis apparet, cur versus factitet; utrum
Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental
Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus
Objectos caveae valuit è srangere clathros,

* * * * *

Empedocles, ambitious to be thought
A God, his name with Godlike honours fought,
Holding a worldly life of no account,
Lead'p coldly into aetna's burning mount.---
Let Poets then with leave resign their breath,
Licens'd and priveleg'd to rush on death!
Who gives a man his life against his will,
Murders the man, as much as those who kill.
'Tis not once only he hath done this deed;
Nay, drag him forth! your kindness wo'n't succeed:
Nor will he take again a mortal's shame,
And lose the glory of a death of fame.
Nor is't apparent, _why_ with verse he's wild:
Whether his father's ashes he defil'd;
Whether, the victim of incestuous love,
The Blasted Monument he striv'd to move:
Whate'er the cause, he raves; and like a Bear,
Burst from his cage, and loose in open air,
Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.
Quem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo,
Non miffura cutem, nisi plena cruroris, hirudo.

* * * * *

Learn'd and unlearn'd the Madman puts to flight,
They quick to fly, he bitter to recite!
What hapless soul he seizes, he holds fast;
Rants, and repeats, and reads him dead at last:
Hangs on him, ne'er to quit, with ceaseless speech.
Till gorg'd and full of blood, a very Leech!

Notes on the EPISTLE to the PISOS Notes

I have referred the Notes to this place, that the reader might be left to his genuine feelings, and the natural impression on reading the Epistle, whether adverse or favourable to the idea I ventured to premise, concerning its Subject and Design. In the address to my learned and worthy friends I said little more than was necessary so open my plan, and to offer an excuse for my undertaking. The Notes descend to particulars, tending to illustrate and confirm my hypothesis; and adding occasional explanations of the original, chiefly intended for the use of the English Reader. I have endeavoured, according to the best of my ability, to follow the advice of Roscommon in the lines, which I have ventured to prefix to these Notes. How far I may be entitled to the _poetical blessing_ promised by the Poet, the Publick must determine: but were I, avoiding arrogance, to renounce all claim to it, such an appearance of _Modesty_ would includes charge of _Impertinence_ for having hazarded this publication._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 Blessing Phoebus may bestow,
And future Ages to your labour owe?
Such _Secrets_ are not easily found out,
But once _discoverd_, leave no room for doubt.
truth stamps _conviction_ in your ravish'd breast,
And _Peace_ and _Joy_ attend _the_ glorious guest.

Essay on Translated Verse ART of POETRY, an EPISTLE, &c.

Q. HORATII FLACCI EPISTOLA AD PISONES.

The work of Horace, now under consideration, has been so long known, and so generally received, by the name of The Art of Poetry, that I have, on account of that notoriety, submitted this translation to the Publick, under that title, rather than what I hold to be the true one, viz. Horace's Epistle to The Pisos. The Author of the English Commentary has adopted the same title, though directly repugnant to his own system; and, I suppose, for the very same reason.

The title, in general a matter of indifference, is, in the present instance, of much consequence. On the title Julius Scaliger founded his invidious, and injudicious, attack. De arte quares quid sentiam. Quid? eqvidem quod de arte, sine arte traditâ. To the Title all the editors, and commentators, have particularly adverted; commonly preferring the Epistolary Denomination, but, in contradiction to that preference, almost universally inscribing the Epistle, the Art of Poetry. The conduct, however, of Jason De Nores, a native of Cyprus, a learned and ingenious writer of the 16th century, is very remarkable. In the year 1553 he published at Venice this work of Horace, accompanied with a commentary and notes, written in elegant Latin, inscribing it, after Quintilian, Q. Horatii Flacci Liber De Arte Poetica. [Foot note: I think it right to mention that I have never seen the 1st edition, published at Venice. With a copy of the second edition, printed in Paris, I was favoured by Dr. Warton of Winchester.] The very-next year, however, he printed at Paris a second edition, enriching his notes with many observations on Dante and Petrarch, and changing the title, after mature consideration, to _Q. Horatii Flacii_ EPISTOLA AD PISONES, _de Arte Poeticâ._ His motives for this change he assigns in the following terms.

_Quare adductum me primum sciant ad inscriptionem operis immutandam non levioribus de causis,& quod formam epistolae, non autem libri, in quo praecepta tradantur, vel ex ipso principio prae se ferat, & quod in vetustis exemplaribus Epistolarum libros subsequatur, & quad etiam summi et praestantissimi homines ita sentiant, & quod minimè nobis obstet Quintiliani testimonium, ut nonnullis videtur. Nam si librum appellat Quintilianus, non est cur non possit inter epistolas enumerari, cum et illae ab Horatio in libros digestae fuerint. Quod vero DE ARTE POETICA idem Quintilianus adjangat, nihil commaveor, cum et in epistolis praecepta de aliquâ re tradi possint, ab eodemque in omnibus penè, et in iis ad Scaevam & Lollium praecipuè jam factum videatur, in quibus breviter eos instituit, qua ratione apud majores facile versarentur._

Desprez, the Dauphin Editor, retains both titles, but says, inclining to the Epistolary, _Attamen artem poeticam vix appellem cum Quintiliano et aliis: malim vero epistolam nuncupare cum nonnullis eruditis._ Monsieur Dacier inscribes it, properly enough, agreable to the idea of Porphyry, Q. Horatii Flacci DE ARTE POETICA LIBER; feu, EPISTOLA AD PISONES, patrem, et filios._

Julius Scaliger certainly stands convicted of critical malice by his poor cavil at _the supposed title_; and has betrayed his ignorance of the ease and beauty of Epistolary method, as well as the most gross misapprehension, by his ridiculous analysis of the work, resolving it into thirty-six parts. He seems, however, to have not ill conceived the genius of the poem, in saying that _it relished satire_. This he has urged in many parts of his Poeticks, particularly in the Dedicatory Epistle to his son, not omitting, however, his constant charge of _Art without Art_. Horatius artem cum inscripsit, adeo sine ulla docet arte, ut satyrae propius totum opus illud esse videatur. This comes almost home to the opinion of the Author of the elegant commentaries on the two Epistles of Horace to the Pisos and to Augustus, as expressed in the Dedication to the latter: With the recital of that opinion I shall conclude this long note. "The genius of Rome was bold and elevated: but Criticism of any kind, was little cultivated, never professed as an _art_, by this people. The specimens we have of their ability in this way (of which the most elegant, beyond all dispute, are the two epistles to _Augustus_ and the _Pisos_) _are slight occasional attempts_, made in the negligence of common sense, _and adapted to the peculiar exigencies of their own taste and learning_; and not by any means the regular productions of _art_, professedly bending itself to this work, and ambitious to give the last finishing to the critical system."

[_Translated from Horace._] In that very entertaining and instructive publication, entitled _An Essay on the Learning and Genius of Pope_, the Critick recommends, as the properest poetical measure to render in English the Satires and Epistles of Horace, that kind of familiar blank verse, used in a version of Terence, attempted some years since by the Author of this translation. I am proud of the compliment; yet I have varied from the mode prescribed: not because Roscommon has already given such a version; or because I think the satyrical hexameters of Horace less familiar than the irregular lambicks of Terence. English Blank Verse, like the lambick of Greece and Rome, is peculiarly adapted to theatrical action and dialogue, as well as to the Epick, and the more elevated Didactick Poetry: but after the models left by Dryden and Pope, and in the face of the living example of Johnson, who shall venture to reject rhime in the province of Satire and Epistle?

9.--TRUST ME, MY PISOS!] _Credite Pisones!_

Monsieur Dacier, at a very early period, feels the influence of _the personal address_, that governs this Epistle. Remarking on this passage, he observes that Horace, anxious to inspire _the Pisos _with a just taste, says earnestly _Trust me, my Pisos! Credite Pisones! _an expression that betrays fear and distrust, lest _the young Men _should fall into the dangerous error of bad poets, and injudicious criticks, who not only thought the want of unity of subject a pardonable effect of Genius, but even the mark of a rich and luxuriant imagination. And although this Epistle, continues Monsieur Dacier, is addressed indifferently to Piso the father, and his Sons, as appears by v. 24 of the original, yet it is _to the sons in particular _that these precepts are directed; a consideration which reconciles the difference mentioned by Porphyry. _Scribit ad Pisones, viros nobiles disertosque, patrem et filios; vel, ut alii volunt,_ ad pisones fratres.

Desprez, the Dauphin Editor, observes also, in the same strain, Porro _scribit Horatius ad patrem et ad filios Pisones, _praesertim vero ad hos.

The family of the _Pisos_, to whom Horace addresses this Epistle, were called Calpurnii, being descended from Calpus, son of Numa Pompilius, whence, he afterwards stiles them _of the Pompilian Blood. Pompilius Sanguis! _

10.--THE VOLUME SUCH] Librum _persimilem. Liber_, observes Dacier, is a term applied to all literary productions, of whatever description. This remark is undoubtedly just, confirms the sentiments of Jason de Nores, and takes off the force of all the arguments founded on Quintilian's having stiled his Epistle LIBER de _arte poetica_.

Vossius, speaking of the censure of Scaliger, "_de arte, sine arte_," subsoins sed fallitur, cum [Greek: epigraphaen] putat esse ab Horatio; qui inscipserat EPISTOLAM AD PISONES. Argumentum vero, ut in Epistolarum raeteris, ita in bâc etiam, ab aliis postea appositum fuit.

l9.----OFT WORKS OF PROMISE LARGE, AND HIGH ATTEMPT.] Incaeptis gra- nibus plerumque, &c. Buckingham's _Essay on Poetry_, Roscommon's _Essay on Translated Verse_, as well as the Satires, and _Art Poetique_ of Boileau, and Pope's _Essay on Criticism_, abound with imitations of Horace. This passage of our Author seems to have given birth to the following lines of Buckingham.

'Tis not a slash of fancy, which sometimes,
Dazzling our minds, sets off the slighted rhimes;
Bright as a blaze, but in a moment done;
True Wit is everlasting, like the Sun;
Which though sometimes behind a cloud retir'd,
Breaks out again, and is the more admir'd.

The following lines of Pope may perhaps appear to bear a nearer resemblance this passage of Horace.

Some to _Conceit_ alone their taste confine,
And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line;
Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit;
One glaring chaos, and wild heap of wit.

_Essay on Criticism._

49.---Of th' Aemilian class ] _Aemilium circa ludum_--literally, near the Aemilian School; alluding to the Academy of Gladiators of Aemilius Lentulus, in whose neighbourhood lived many Artists and Shopkeepers.

This passage also is imitated by Buckingham.

Number and Rhime, and that harmonious found,
Which never _does_ the ear with _harshness_ wound,
Are _necessary_, yet but _vulgar_ arts;
For all in vain these superficial parts
Contribute to the structure of the whole
Without a _Genius_ too; for that's the _Soul_:
A _Spirit_ which inspires the work throughout
As that of _Nature_ moves the world about.

_Essay on Poetry._

Pope has given a beautiful illustration of this thought,

Survey THE WHOLE, nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;
In wit, as Nature, what affects our hearts,
Is not th' exactness of peculiar parts;
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all.
Thus when we view some well-proportion'd dome,
(The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!)
No single parts unequally surprise,
All comes united to th' admiring eyes;
No monstrous height, or breadth, or length appear;
THE WHOLE at once is bold and regular.

_Essay on Criticism._

56.--SELECT, ALL YE WHO WRITE, A SUBJECT FIT] _Sumite materiam, &c._

This passage is well imitated by Roscommon in his Essay on Translated Verse.

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 Maevius _ends_.

* * * * *

Each poet with a different talent writes,
One _praises_, one _instructs_, another _bites_.
Horace did ne'er aspire to Epick Bays,
Nor lofty Maro stoop to Lyrick Lays.
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 sympathetick bond,
You grow familiar, intimate, and fond;
Your thoughts, your words your stiles, your Souls agree,
No longer his _interpreter_, but _He_.

_Stooping_ to Lyrick Lays, though not inapplicable to some of the lighter odes of Horace, is not descriptive of the general character of the Lyrick Muse. _Musa dedit Fidibus Divas &c._

Pope takes up the same thought in his Essay on Criticism.

Be sure yourself and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, taste, and learning go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet,
And mark that point where sense and dulness meet.

* * * * *

Like Kings we lose the conquests gain'd before,
By vain ambition still to make them more:
Each might his servile province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.

71.--_A cunning phrase_.] _Callida junctura_.

_Jason de Nores_ and many other interpreters agree that Horace here recommends, after Aristotle, the artful elevation of style by the use of common words in an uncommon sense, producing at once an air of familiarity and magnificence. Some however confine the expression, _callida junctura_, to signify _compound words_. The Author of the English Commentary adopts the first construction; but considers the precept in both senses, and illustrates each by many beautiful examples from the plays of Shakespeare. These examples he has accompanied with much elegant and judicious observation, as the reader of taste will be convinced by the following short extracts.

"The writers of that time had so _latinized_ the English language, that the pure _English Idiom_, which Shakespeare generally follows, has all the air of _novelty_, which other writers are used to affect by foreign phraseology.--In short, the articles here enumerated are but so many ways of departing from the usual and simpler forms of speech, without neglecting too much the grace of ease and perspicuity; in which well-tempered licence one of the greatest charms of all poetry, but especially of Shakespeare's poetry, consists. Not that he was always and every where so happy. His expression sometimes, and by the very means, here exemplified, becomes _hard_, _obscure_, and _unnatural_. This is the extreme on the other side. But in general, we may say, that He hath either followed the direction of Horace very ably, or hath hit upon his rule very happily."

76.--THE STRAIT-LAC'D CETHEGI.] CINCTUTIS _Cethegis_. Jason de Nores differs, and I think very justly, from those who interpret _Cinctutis_ to signify _loose_, _bare_, or _naked_--EXERTOS & NUDOS. The plain sense of the radical word _cingo_ is directly opposite. The word _cinctutis_ is here assumed to express a severity of manners by an allusion to an antique gravity of dress; and the Poet, adds _de Nores_, very happily forms a new word himself, as a vindication and example of the licence he recommends. Cicero numbers M. Corn. Cethegus among the old Roman Orators; and Horace himself again refers to the Cethegi in his Epistle to Florus, and on the subject of the use of words.

_Obscurata diu papula bonus eruet, atque_
Proseret in lucem speciosa vocabula rer*um;
***need a Latin speaker to check this out***
_Quae priscis memorata_ CATONIBUS _atque_ CETHEGIS,
Nunc situs informis premit & deserta vetustas;
Adsciscet nova quae genitor produxerit usus.

Mark where a bold expressive phrase appears,
Bright thro' the rubbish of some hundred years;
Command _old words_ that long have slept, to wake,
Words, that wife Bacon, or brave Raleigh spake;
Or bid _the new_ be English, ages hence,
For Use will father what's begot by Sense.

POPE.

This brilliant passage of Pope is quoted in this place by the author of that English Commentary, who has also subjoined many excellent remarks on _the revival of old words_, worthy the particular attention of those who cultivate prose as well as poetry, and shewing at large, that "the riches of a language are actually increased by retaining its old words: and besides, they have often _a greater real weight and dignity_, than those of a more _fashionable_ cast, which succeed to them. This needs no proof to such as are versed in the earlier writings of any language."--"_The growing prevalency of a very different humour_, first catched, as it should seem, from our commerce with the French Models, _and countenanced by the too scrupulous delicacy of some good writers amongst ourselves, bad gone far towards unnerving the noblest modern language, and effeminating the public taste_."--"The rejection of _old words_, as _barbarous_, and of many modern ones, as unpolite," had so exhausted the _strength_ and _stores_ of our language, that it was high time for some master-hand to interpose, and send us for supplies to _our old poets_; which there is the highest authority for saying, no one ever despised, but for a reason, not very consistent with his credit to avow: _rudem esse omnino in nostris poetis, aut inertissimae nequitiae est, aut fastidii delicatissimi.-- Cic. de fin._ 1. i. c. 2.

[As woods endure, &c.] _Ut silvae foliis_, &c. Mr. Duncombe, in his translation of our Author, concurs with Monsieur Dacier in observing that "Horace seems here to have had in view that fine similitude of Homer in the sixth book of the Iliad, comparing the generations of men to the annual succession of leaves.

[Greek:
Oipaeer phyllon genehn, toiaede ch ahndron.
phylla ta mehn t anemohs chamahdis cheei, ahllah de thula
Taeletheasa phyei, earos depigigyel(*)ai orae
Oz andron genen. aemen phnei, aeh dahpolaegei.]

"Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
Another race the following spring supplies,
They fall successive, and successive rise:
So generations in their turns decay;
So flourish these, when those are past away."

The translator of Homer has himself compared words to leaves, but in another view, in his Essay on Criticism.

Words are like leaves; and where they most abound,
Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found.

In another part of the Essay he persues the same train of thought with Horace, and rises, I think, above his Master.

Short is the date, alas, of modern rhymes,
And 'tis but just to let them live betimes.
No longer now that golden age appears,
When Patriarch-wits surviv'd a thousand years;
Now length of Fame (our second life) is lost,
And bare threescore is all ev'n that can boast;
Our sons their father's failing language see,
And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.
So when the faithful pencil has design'd
Some bright idea of the Master's mind,
Where a new world leaps out at his command,
And ready Nature waits upon his hand;
When the ripe colours soften and unite,
And sweetly melt into just shade and light;
When mellowing years their full perfection give,
And each bold figure just begins to live;
The treach'rous colours the fair art betray,
And all the bright creation fades away!

_Essay an Criticism._

95.--WHETHER THE SEA, &c.] _Sive receptus, &c._

This may be understood of any harbour; but it is generally interpreted to refer to the _Portus Julius_, a haven formed by letting in the sea upon the _Lucrine Lake_, and forming a junction between that and the Lake _Avernus_; a work, commenced by Julius Caesar, and compleated by Augustus, or Agrippa under his auspices. _Regis opus!_ Both these lakes (says Martin) were in Campania: the former was destroyed by an earthquake; but the latter is the present _Lago d'Averno_. Strabo, the Geographer, who, as well as our Poet, was living at the time, ascribes this work to Agrippa, and tells us that the Lucrine bay was separated from the Tyrrhene sea by a mound, said to have been first made by Hercules, and restored by Agrippa. Philargyrius says that a storm arose at the time of the execution of this great work, to which Virgil seems to refer in his mention of this Port, in the course of his Panegyrick on Italy in the second Georgick.

An memorem portus Lucrinoque addita claustra,
Atque indignatem magnis strideribus aequor,
Julia qua ponto longe sonat unda refuso,
Tyrrbenusque fretis immittitur aeflut AVERNIS?

Or shall I praise thy Ports, or mention make
Of the vast mound, that binds the Lucrine Lake?
Or the disdainful sea, that, shut from thence,
Roars round the structure, and invades the fence;
There, where secure the Julian waters glide,
Or where Avernus' jaws admit the Tyrrhene tide?
DRYDEN.

98.--WHETHER THE MARSH, &c. Sterilisve Palus.]

THE PONTINE MARSH, first drained by the Consul Cornelius Cethegus; then, by Augustus; and many, many years after by Theodorick.

102.--OR IF THE RIVER, &c.] _Sen cursum, &c._ The course of the _Tyber,_ changed by Augustus, to prevent inundations.

110.--FOR DEEDS OF KINGS, &c.] Res gestae regumque, &c.

The ingenious author of the English Commentary, to whom I have so often referred, and to whom I must continue to refer, has discovered particular taste, judgement, and address, in his explication of this part of the Epistle. runs thus.

"From reflections on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to particulars: the most obvious of which being the different forms and measures of poetick composition, he considers, in this view, [from v. 75 to 86] the four great species of poetry, to which all others may be reduced, the Epick, Elegiack, Dramatick, and Lyrick. But the distinction of the measure, to be observed in the several species is so obvious, that there can scarcely be any mistake about them. The difficulty is to know [from v. 86 to 89] how far each may partake of the spirit of the other, without destroying that natural and necessary difference, which ought to subsist betwixt them all. To explain this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from v. 89 to 99] the case of Dramatick Poetry; the two species of which are as distinct from each other, as any two can be, and yet there are times, when the features of the one will be allowed to resemble those of the other.--But the Poet had a further view in choosing this instance. For he gets by this means into the main of his subject, which was Dramatick Poetry, and, by the most delicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from 89 to 323] to deliver a series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, _and enlivened by digressions_, for the regulation of the Roman stage."

It is needless to insist, that my hypothesis will not allow me to concur entirely in the latter part of this extract; at least in that latitude, to which; the system of the writer carries it: yet I perfectly agree with Mr. Duncombe, that the learned Critick, in his observations on this Epistle, "has shewn, in general, the connection and dependence of one part with another, in a clearer light than any other Commentator." His shrewd and delicate commentary is, indeed, a most elegant contrast to the barbarous analysis of Scaliger, drawn up without the least idea of poetical transition, and with the uncouth air of a mere dry logician, or dull grammarian. I think, however, the _Order_ and _Method_, observed in this Epistle, is stricter than has yet been observed, and that the series of rules is delivered with great regularity; NOT _enlivened by digressions_, but passing from one topick to another, by the most natural and easy transitions. The Author's discrimination of the different stiles of the several species of poetry, leads him, as has been already shewn, to consider the diction of the Drama, and its accommodation to the _circumstances_ and _character_ of the Speaker. A recapitulation of these _circumstances_ carries him to treat of the due management of _characters already known_, as well as of sustaining those that are entirely _original_; to the first of which the Poet gives the preference, recommending _known_ characters, as well as _known_ subjects: And on the mention of this joint preference, the Author leaves further consideration of _the_ diction, and slides into discourse upon the fable, which he continues down to the 152d verse.

Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,
Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Having dispatched the fable, the Poet proceeds, and with some Solemnity of Order, to the consideration of the characters; not in regard to suitable _diction_, for of that he has already spoken, but in respect to _the manners_; and, in this branch of his subject, he has as judiciously borrowed from _the Rhetoricks_ of Aristotle, as in the rest of his Epistle from the _Poeticks_. He then directs, in its due place, the proper conduct of particular incidents _of the fable_; after which he treats of _the_ chorus; from whence he naturally falls into the history of theatrical musick; which is, as naturally, succeeded by an account of the Origin of _the Drama_, itself, which the Poet commences, like master Aristotle, even from the Dithyrambick Song, and carries it down to the establishment of the New Greek Comedy; from whence he passes easily and gracefully, to _the_ Roman stage, acknowledging the merits of the Writers, but pointing out their defects, and assigning the causes. He then subjoins a few general observations, and concludes his long discourse on _the_ drama, having extended it to 275 lines. This discourse, together with the result of all his reflections on Poets and Poetry, he then applies in the most earnest and _personal_ manner to the elder Piso; and with a long and most pathetick _peroration_, if I may adopt an oratorical term, concludes the Epistle.

116.--THE ELEGY'S SMALL SONG.] EXIGUOS _Elegos_.

Commentators differ concerning the import of this expression--exiguos _Elegos_, the _Elegy's_ small _song_. De Nores, Schrevelius, and Desprez, think it refers to the humility of the elegiack stile and subjects, compared with epick or lyrick sublimity. Monsieur Dacier rather thinks that Horace refers here, as in the words _Versibus impariter junctis,_ "Couplets unequal," to the use of pentameter, or short verse, consisting of five feet, and joined to the hexameter, or long verse, of six. This inequality of the couplet Monsieur Dacier justly prefers to the two long Alexandrines of his own country, which sets almost all the French poetry, Epick, Dramatick, Elegiack, or Satyrick, to the tune of Derry Down. In our language, the measures are more various, and more happily conceived. Our Elegy adopts not only _unequal couplets_, but _alternate rhymes_, which give a plaintive tone to the heroick measure, and are most happily used in Gray's beautiful _Elegy in a Country Church yard.

135.--THY FEAST, THYESTES!] Caena Thyestae.

The story of Thyestes being of the most tragick nature, a banquet on his own children! is commonly interpreted by the Criticks, as mentioned by Horace, in allusion to Tragedy in general. The Author of the English Commentary, however, is of a different opinion, supposing, from a passage of Cicero, that the Poet means to glance at the _Thyestes of Ennius,_ and to pay an oblique compliment to Varius, who had written a tragedy on the same subject.

The same learned Critick also takes it for granted, that the Tragedy of Telephus, and probably of _Peleus_, after-mentioned, point at tragedies of Euripedes, on these subjects, translated into Latin, and accomodated to the Roman Stage, without success, by _Ennius, Accius, or Naevius_.

One of this Critick's notes on this part of the Epistle, treating on the use of _pure poetry_ in the Drama, abounds with curious disquisition and refined criticism.

150.--_They must have_ passion _too_.] dulcia _sunto_. The Poet, with great address, includes the sentiments under the consideration of diction.

--_Effert animi motus_ interprete lingua.
_Forces expression from the_ faithful tongue.

Buckingham has treated the subject of Dialogue very happily in his Essay on Poetry, glancing, but not servilely, at this part of Horace.

_Figures of Speech_, which Poets think so fine,
Art's needless varnish to make Nature shine,
Are all but _Paint_ upon a beauteous face,
And in _Descriptions_ only claim a place.
But to make _Rage declaim_, and _Grief discourse_,
From lovers in despair _fine_ things to _force_,
Must needs succeed; for who can chuse but pity
A _dying_ hero miserably _witty_?

201.----BE NOT YOUR OPENING FIERCE!] _Nec sic incipies_, Most of the Criticks observe, that all these documents, deduced from _the Epick_, are intended, like the reduction of the Iliad into acts, as directions and admonition to the _Dramatick_ writer. _Nam si in_ EPOPaeIA, _que gravitate omnia poematum generae praecellit, ait principium lene esse debere; quanto magis in_ tragoedia _et_ comoedia, _idem videri debet_? says de Nores. _Praeceptum de intio grandiori evitaado, quod tam_ epicus _quam_ tragicus _cavere debet_; says the Dauphin Editor. _Il faut se souvenir qu' Horace appliqae à la Tragedie les regies du Poeme Epique. Car si ces debuts eclatans sont ridicules dans la Poeme Epique, ils le sont encore plus dans la Tragedie_: says Dacier. The Author of the English Commentary makes the like observation, and uses it to enforce his system of the Epistle's being intended as a Criticism on the Roman drama. [ xviii] 202---Like _the rude_ ballad-monger's _chant of old_] _ut scriptor_ cyclicus olim.] _Scriptor_ cyclicus signisies an itinerant Rhymer travelling, like Shakespeare's Mad Tom, to wakes, and fairs, and market-towns. 'Tis not precisely known who was the Cyclick Poet here meant. Some have ascribed the character to Maevius, and Roscommon has adopted that idea.

Whoever vainly on his _strength_ depends,
Begins like Virgil, but like Maevius ends:
That Wretch, in spite of his forgotten rhimes,
Condemn'd to live to all succeeding times,
With _pompous nonsense_, and a _bellowing sound_,
Sung _lofty Ilium_, _tumbling_ to the _ground_,
And, if my Muse can thro' past ages fee,
That _noisy, nauseous_, gaping fool was _he_;
Exploded, when, with universal scorn,
The _Mountains labour'd_, and a _Mouse_ was born.

_Essay on Translated Verse_.

The pompous exordium of Statius is well known, and the fragments of Ennius present us a most tremendous commencement of his Annals.

horrida romoleum certamina pango duellum!
this is indeed to split our ears asunder
With guns, drums, trumpets, blunderbuss, and thunder!

211.--Say, Muse, the Man, &c.] Homer's opening of the Odyssey. his rule is perhaps no where so chastely observed as in _the Paradise Lost_. Homer's [Greek: Maenin aeide thea]! or, his [Greek: Andra moi ennepe,Mgsa]! or, Virgil's _Arma, Urumque cano_! are all boisterous and vehement, in comparison with the calmness and modesty of Milton's meek approach,

Of Man's first disobedience, &c.

2l5.--_Antiphates, the Cyclops, &c_].- _Antiphatem, Scyllamque, & cum Cyclope Charybdim_. Stories, that occur in the Odyssey. 218-19--Diomed's return--the Double Egg.]

The return of Diomede is not mentioned by Homer, but is said to be the subject of a tedious Poem by Antimachus; and to Stasimus is ascribed a Poem, called the Little Iliad, beginning with the nativity of Helen.

227.--Hear now!] _Tu, quid ego, &c._

This invocation, says Dacier justly, is not addressed to either of the Pisos, but to the Dramatick Writer generally.

229.---The Cloth goes down.] _Aulaea manentis._ This is translated according to modern manners; for with the Antients, the Cloth was raised at the Conclusion of the Play. Thus in Virgil's Georgicks;

Vel scena ut versis disceedat frontibus, atque
Purpurea intexti tollant aulaea Britanni.

Where the proud theatres disclose the scene;
Which interwoven Britons seem to _raise;_
And shew the triumph which their _shame_ displays.

Dryden

230.--Man's several ages, &c.] _aetatis cujusque, &c._ Jason Demores takes notice of the particular stress, that Horace lays on the due discrimination of the several Ages, by the solemnity with which he introduces the mention of them: The same Critick subjoins a note also, which I shall transcribe, as it serves to illustrate a popular passage in the _As you Like It_ of Shakespeare.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their _exits_ and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts:
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms:
And then, the whining school-boy with his satchel,
And shining morning-face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then, the lover;
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then, a soldier;
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel;
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes,
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.