_Succutiturque alte, similisque est currus inani._
The Driver thrown, the Car as empty flies.
[125]
_Nec scit qua sit iter, nec si sciat, imperet illis._
Nor knows the Way, nor, if he knew, could guide.
And in the fourth Book, after he had described the Interview between
_Pyramus_ and _Thisbe_ well enough,
_Ad nomen Thisbes oculos jam morte gravatos
Pyramus erexit_,----
His swimming Eyes he rais'd at _Thisbe_'s Name.
he thus miserably concludes the Verse:
----_visaque recondidit illa._
And having seen her, clos'd them up again.
In another Place,
_Sensit abesse dolos, numerumque accessit ad harum._
All safe she found, and join'd herself to them.
In the seventh Book:
----_agisque
Carminibus grates, & Diis auctoribus horum._
You secret Transports on your Charms bestow,
And on the Gods, the Authors of them, too.
Nothing can be more palpable than the Absurdities I have here produced:
In _Ovid_ they are almost unpardonable, who, as he wanted not Genius,
must needs have fallen into them thro' gross Inadvertency and Supineness.
There's another Species of Style, called the _Sarcastical_ and
_Invective_, suited, as Reason will tell us, more peculiarly to Satire.
But we shall no where find a more lively Instance of it than in _Virgil_:
_Cantando Tu illum? aut unquam tibi fistula cera
Juncta fuit? non tu in triviis, indocte, solebas
Stridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen?_
Thou him in piping! Had'st thou e'er a Pipe
Jointed with Wax?. Wert thou not wont, thou Dolt,
In the Cross-ways, upon a screeching Straw
To murder a vile Tune with viler Notes?
Here, it is plain, the Mordacity lies in the Expression more than
the Thought; which is no more than that the Shepherd mention'd was a
miserable Piper; but the Words are emphatically cutting, _in triviis,
stridenti, miserum, stipula, disperdere_; each of which is arm'd with
Poignancy, and dresses out the Image with fresh Ridicule. On the other
Hand, sometimes the Invective turns wholly upon the Thought; as in
another Verse of _Virgil_:
_Qui Bavium non odit, amet tua carmina, Mævi._
Who hates not _Bavius_, be he doom'd to love
Thy Metre, _Mævius_!
A keener Satire cannot be conceived; but the Force of it consists in
the Sense only; the Words, considered separately, have nothing of that
Kind in them. The former, therefore, is the proper Instance of the
Invective Style; because in the Style the whole Invective is contained.
It may justly be wonder'd that I should fetch Examples of the _Style_
and _Thought_ of Satire, from a Poet endow'd by Nature with the sweetest
Disposition, and led by his Subject to a very different Way of Writing:
But he had a Genius so adapted to every Thing, that he could write
Satire in spite of his own good Nature. These Examples are a sufficient
Proof, that if he had turn'd his Thoughts that Way, he would have gain'd
the Laurel from all other Competitors; and I must ingenuously confess,
that, in my Mind, _Juvenal_ himself has nothing more severe than this
_Virgilian_ Acrimony.
The _Florid_ Style is set off with Tropes, Figures, and especially
Metaphors. The Use and Abuse of these, I have already spoke of; to avoid
Repetition, therefore, I would here only observe, That all Sorts of
Poems admit of figurative Expressions, and receive fresh Ornament from
them, when the Subject requires them, and Judgment is used in the Choice
of them; but that this Style is suitable, in the first Place, to the
sublimer Kind of _Ode_, and, in the next, to the _Epic_ Poem.
A Style, likewise, is said to be easy or strong; short or diffuse;
clear or obscure; sweet, soft, and fluent; or rough, and unpleasant.
The several Properties of these, to what Subject, and to what Poem each
is suitable, may be collected from this Dissertation, and the Examples
produced; and are partly so self-evident, that all further Explication
or Example would be needless. I only observe, in one Word, that a clear
Style is never faulty, an obscure and an uncouth one always so; but
that the easy or strong, the short or prolix, the loose or close, the
brisk or slow, the sweet and soft, or the rough and harsh, are all of
them sometimes proper, sometimes improper, according to the Subject
Matter of the Poem they appear in. 'Tis farther to be observ'd, That
the rough Style, artfully enrich'd with a few antiquated Words, has a
certain Majesty in it, which adds a Grandeur to Tragedy especially, and
a Sublimity to the Epic Poem: That this Liberty, however, is to be used
with Judgment and Caution, lest it appear dull and stiff, instead of
lofty and majestic. On the other Hand, that Elegies, particularly, and
some sort of Pastorals, require the sweet and flowing Style, and utterly
reject all Asperity: Lastly, That some of the Appellations by which
Style is distinguish'd are applied to Thought likewise; as _sublime_,
_low_, _satirical_, _elegant_, &c. and some of them not so: For a
_brisk_ or _slow Thought_, a _concise_ or _prolix Thought_, &c. are
Terms which the Schools are yet Strangers to.
Elegance enters into the Composition of every Style that has any Merit
in it, pervades every Part, and is, as it were, the Soul to it. What
Elegance is, and wherein it consists, has been already shewn, at the
Entrance of this Dissertation.
But tho' every Kind of Poem has a Style peculiar to itself, yet we
are not to preserve one even Course of Writing from the Beginning to
the End, but to rise or fall, to be sweet or rough, to be concise or
to expatiate, _&c._ according to the Variety of Matter into which our
Subject leads us. _Virgil_, in that Description of Prodigies which I
have before cited, sometimes uses the short Diction:
_Vox quoque per lucos vulgo exaudita silentes
Ingens; & simulacra modis pallentia miris
Visa sub obscurum noctis; pecudesque locutæ,
Infandum! sistunt amnes; terræque dehiscunt;
Et mœstum illacrimat templis ebur; æraque sudant._
And oft in silent Woods were Voices more
Than human heard: And Spectres wond'rous pale
Seen in the Dusk of Ev'ning: Oxen spoke,
(Horrid to tell!) Earth yawn'd, and Streams stood still,
In Temples mourning Iv'ry wept; and Brass
Sweated.
But in the next Words, where he is to express a great Inundation, he
thus breaks out into an Exuberancy of Style:
_Proluit insano contorquens vortice silvas
Fluviorum Rex Eridanus, camposque per omnes
Cum stabulis armenta tulit._
_Eridanus_, supreme of Rivers,
With roaring Inundation o'er the Plains
Whirl'd Woods away, and Cattle with their Stalls.
It is a great Fault, to be always upon the Sublime: In those Poems,
whose Subject leads them to be most so, some Things occur, that ought
to be express'd in the plainest Diction, that scarce admit, much less
require the lofty or the splendid.
Lastly, 'tis to be observed, that the Style of _Comedy_ is not properly
a poetical Style, but an elegant kind of Prose. It would be absurd if
it were otherwise; since the Language of Comedy is to imitate familiar
Discourse, and such as passes in common Conversation. For this Reason,
some (as _Horace_ tells us) have made a Doubt whether this Species of
the Drama is to be accounted a Species of Poetry, or not:
_Idcirco quidam, Comœdia, necne, poema
Esset, quæsivere; quod acer spiritus, ac vis,
Nec verbis, nec rebus, inest; nisi quod pede certo
Differt sermoni, sermo merus._
And therefore some do doubt (tho' some allow)
If _Comedy_ be _Poetry_, or no:
Because it wants that Spirit, Flame and Force,
And bate the Numbers, 'tis but plain Discourse.
_Creech._
'Tis Certain the _Style_ of the ancient Comedy had nothing poetical in
it but the Feet and Measure, and those very little different from Prose;
and rejected all those Modes of Speech, which we have mention'd above as
peculiar to Poetry. What, therefore, Comedy has in common with Poetry,
does not consist in the Diction, but partly in the Measure, and chiefly
in the Invention, the Conduct of the Plot, and the Disposal of the Parts.
I am very sensible a great Question may arise in relation to our
Comedies, whether they are to be deem'd Poems, since they want those
metrical Numbers, which in our former Dissertation we made essential to
a Poem. This Question undoubtedly bears much harder upon our _English_
Comedies, than upon the ancient _Greek_ and _Latin_ ones; which are
manifestly writ in some certain Measure, tho' a loose one, and the
nearest possible to Prose; but our's pretend to be nothing else but
Prose, only with a Distich or two at the Conclusion of every Act. It may
be question'd, likewise, on the other Hand, whether the _French_ Poets
are to be commended, who write entire Comedies not only in Ryme, but
even Heroic Verse. These Doubts I shall at present wave, since a more
proper Opportunity will offer to discuss them fully, when I make Comedy
the Subject of an entire Dissertation.
As _Style_ is my present Subject, and I shall make _Thought_ my next; it
may not be improper to inquire into the Relation between the Beauty of
the one and the other, and what Connexion there is between writing well,
and thinking justly, and how they mutually conspire to promote each
other. This Enquiry is somewhat of a middle Nature between the Subject
of our present Discourse and the following; and, like a Partition Wall,
may serve to join, and yet divide them.
I lay it down for a Rule, that no one can write clearly, or elegantly,
that does not think so. If you are obscure to yourself, you must
have great good Luck indeed, if you are perspicuous to others. And
if your Thought is bad, shining Language only serves to make both
ridiculous. 'Tis like dressing up a disagreeable Person in rich Cloaths,
which receive Disgrace from the Wearer, and make his Deformity more
contemptible. On the other Hand, 'tis scarce possible, but he whose
Thoughts are clear and bright, will be so in his Style too, provided
he is well vers'd in the best Authors, and Master of the Language he
writes in. When we speak or write, our Thoughts break forth, like the
Light, diffuse themselves around, and, by their natural Force, enter the
Minds of our Hearers or Readers, as that does the Eyes of the Beholders.
Words (if we may believe _Quintilian_) almost necessarily follow a
clear Imagination, as the Shadow does a Substance. And if once we have
a Conception of any Thing beautiful or sublime, suitable Expressions
will arise, if we think proper to make use of them. If we think proper,
I say, to make use of them; for it is not to be supposed, that the one
will necessarily accompany the other, whether we will let them or not,
or that _Quintilian_ meant to extend the _Necessity_ so far. It is
possible the Thoughts may be beautiful and sublime, and the Words, out
of Choice, plain and simple; and the Plainness of these may sometimes
not only shew, but add to the Sublimity of those. To this Purpose
_Longinus_ cites that short Narration of the divine Historian, as a
remarkable Instance of Sublimity: _And God said, Let there be Light, and
there was Light_. So _Horace_:
[134]----_Sapere aude,
Incipe._