ambition to be thought a _Wit_, that he lets his Spleen prevail against
Nature, and turns Poet. In this Capacity he is as just to the World as
in the other injurious. For, as the _Critick_ wrong'd every Body in his
Censure, and snarl'd and grin'd at their Writings, the _Poet_ gives 'em
opportunity to do themselves Justice, to return the Compliment, and
laugh at, or despise his. He takes his _Malice_ for a _Muse_, and thinks
himself _Inspir'd_, when he is only _Possess'd_, and blown up with a
Flatus of _Envy_ and _Vanity_. His Works are _Libels_ upon others, but
_Satyrs_ upon himself; and while they bark at Men of _Sense_, call him
Fool that writ 'em. He has a very great Antipathy to his own Species,
and hates to see a Fool any where but in his Glass; for, as he says,
_they provoke him, and offend his Eyes_. His Fund of Criticism, is a set
of Terms of Art, pick'd out of the _French Criticks_, or their
Translators; and his _Poetical Stock_, is a common Place of certain
_Forms_ and manners of Expression. He writes better in _Verse_ than
_Prose_; for in that there is _Rhime_, in this, neither _Rhime_ nor
_Reason_. He rails both at the _French_ Writers, "whom he does not
understand, and at those _English_ Authors, whose Excellencies he cannot
reach; with him _Voiture_ is flat and dull, _Corneille_ a stranger to
the Passions, _Racine_, Starch'd and Affected, _Moliere_, Jejune, _la
Fontaine_ a poor Teller of Tales; and even the Divine _Boileau_, little
better than a Plagiary. As for the _English_ Poets, he treats almost
with the same Freedom; _Shakespear_ with him has neither Language nor
Manners; _Ben. Johnson_ is a Pedant; _Dryden_ little more than a
tolerable Versifier; _Congreve_ a laborious Writer; _Garth_, an
indifferent imitator of _Boileau_. He traduces _Oldham_, for want of
Breeding and good Manners, without a grain of either, and steals his own
Wit to bespatter him with; but like an ill Chymist, he lets the _Spirit_
fly off in the drawing over and retains only the _Phlegm_. He Censures
_Cowley_ for too much Wit, and corrects him with none. He is a great
Admirer of the incomparable _Milton_, but while he fondly endeavours to
imitate his _Sublime_, he is blown up with _Bombast_ and _puffy
Expressions_. He is a great stickler for _Euripides_, _Sophocles_,
_Horace_, _Virgil_, _Ovid_, and the rest of the Ancients; but his ill
and lame Translations of 'em, ridicule those he would commend. He
ventures to write for the Play-Houses, but having his stol'n,
ill-patch'd fustian Plays Damn'd upon the Stage, he ransacks _Bossu_,
_Rapin_, and _Dacier_, to arraign the ill-taste of the Town. To compleat
himself in the Formalities of _Parnassus_, he falls in Love, and tells
his Mistress in a very pathetick Letter, he is oblig'd to her bright
_Beauty_ for his Poetry; but if this Damsel prove no more indulgent than
his Muse, his Amour is like to conclude but unluckily."
_Demetrius_ before the Curse of Poetry had seiz'd him, was in a pretty
way of _Thriving Business_, but having lately sold his Chambers in one
of the Inns of Court, and taken a Lodging near the Play-house, is now in
a fair way of _Starving_. This Gentleman is frequently possest with
Poetick Raptures; and all the Family complains, that he disturbs 'em at
Midnight, by reciting some incomparable sublime Fustian of his own
Composing. When he is in Bed, one wou'd imagine he might be quiet for
that Night, but 'tis quite otherwise with him; for when a new Thought,
as he calls it, comes into his Head, up he gets, sets it down in
Writing, and so gradually encreases the detested Bulk of his Poetick
Fooleries, which, Heaven avert it! he threatens to Print. _Demetrius_
having had the misfortune of miscarrying upon the Stage, endeavours to
preserve his unlawful Title to Wit, by bringing all the Dramatick Poets
down to his own Level. And wanting Spirit to set up for a Critick, turns
_Spy_ and _Informer_ of _Parnassus_. He frequents _Apollo_'s Court at
_Will_'s, and picks up the freshest Intelligence, what Plays are upon
the Stocks, what ready to be Launch'd; and if he can be inform'd, from
the _Establish'd Wits_, of any remarkable Fault in the new Play upon the
Bills, he is indefatigably industrious in whispering it about, to
bespeak its Damnation before its Representation.
* _Curculio_ is a Semi-Wit, that has a great _Veneration_ for the
_Moderns_, and no less a _Contempt_ for the _Ancients_: But his own ill
Composures destroy the force of his Arguments, and do the Ancients full
Justice. This Gentleman having had the good Fortune to write a very
taking, _undigested medly of Comedy_ and _Farce_, is so puff'd up with
his Success, that nothing will serve him, but he must bring this new
_fantastick way of writing_, into Esteem. To compass this Noble Design,
he tells you what a Coxcomb _Aristotle_ was with his Rules of the _three
Unities_; and what a Company of Senseless Pedants the _Scaligers_,
_Rapins_, _Bossu's_, and _Daciers_ are. He proves that _Aristotle_ and
_Horace_, knew nothing of _Poetry_; that Common Sense and Nature were
not the same in _Athens_, and _Rome_, as they are in _London_; that
_Incoherence_, _Irregularity_ and _Nonsense_ are the Chief Perfections
of the _Drama_, and, by a necessary Consequence that the _Silent woman_,
is below his own Performance.
"_No new Doctrine_ in _Religion_, ever got any considerable Footing
except it was grounded on _Miracles_; Nor any new _Hypothesis_ was ever
established in natural Philolqphy, unless it was confirm'd by
_Experience_. The same Rule holds, in some measure, in all Arts and
Sciences, particularly in Dramatick Poetry. It will be a hard matter for
any Man to trump up any new set of Precepts, in opposition to those of
_Aristotle_ and _Horace_, except by following them, he writes several
approved Plays. The great success of the _first Part_ of the _T---p_ was
sufficient I must confess, to justifie the Authors _Conceit_; But then
the _Explosion_ of the _Second_ ought to have cur'd him of it.
"_Writers_ like _Women_ seldom give one another a good Word; that's
most certain. Now if the _Poets_ and _Criticks_ of all Ages have allowed
_Sophocles_, _Euripides_, and _Terence_ to have been good _Dramatick
Writers_, and _Aristotle_ and _Horace_ to have been _judicious
Criticks_, ought not their _Censure_ to weigh more with Men of Sense,
than the Fancies, of a Modern Pretender. To be plain, whoever Disputes
_Aristotle_ and _Horace_, Rules does as good as call the _Scaligers_,
_Vossii_, _Rapins_, _Bossu's_, _Daciers_, _Corneilles_, _Roscommons_,
_Normanby's_ and _Rymers_, _Blockheads_: A man must have a great deal of
Assurance, to be so free with such illustrious Judges.
"Of all the modern Dramatick Poets the Author of _the Trip to the
Jubilee_ has the least Reason to turn into Ridicule _Aristotle_ and
_Horace_, since 'tis to their _Rules_ which he has, in some measure
followed, that he owed the great success of that Play. Those _Rules_ are
no thing but a strict imitation of Nature, which is still the same in
all Ages and Nations: And because the Characters of _Wildair_,
_Angelica_, _Standard_ and _Smuggler_ are _natural_, and well pursued,
They have justly met _with Applause_; but then the Characters of
_Lurewell_ and _Clincher_ Sen. being _out_ of _Nature_ they have as
justly been condemned by all the Good Judges."
* Some _Scholars_, tho' by their constant Conversation with Antiquity,
they may know perfectly the sense of the Learned dead, and be perfect
masters of the Wisdom, be throughly informed of the State, and nicely
skill'd in the Policies of Ages long since past, yet by their retired
and unactive Life, and their neglect of Business, they are such
strangers to the Domestick Affairs and manners of their own Country and
Times, that they appear like the Ghosts of old _Romans_ rais'd by
Magick. Talk to them of the _Assyrian_ or _Persian_ Monarchies of the
_Grecian_ or _Roman_ Commonwealths, they answer like Oracles; They are
such finished States-men that we should scarce take 'em to have been
less than Privy-Councellors to _Semiramis_, Tutors to _Cyrus_ the Great,
and old Cronies of _Solon_, _Licurgus_, and _Numa Pompilius_. But ingage
them in a discourse that concerns the present Times, and their Native
Country, and they hardly speak the language of it; Ask them how many
Kings there have been in _England_ since the Conquest, or in what Reign
the _Reformation_ happened, and they'll be puzzled with the Question;
They know all the minutest Circumstances of _Catiline's_ Conspiracy, but
are hardly acquainted with the late Plot. They'll tell you the Names of
such _Romans_ as were called to an Account by the Senate for their
_Briberies_, _Extortions_ and _Depredations_, but know nothing of the
four impeached Lords; They talk of the ancient way of Fighting, and
warlike Engines, as if they had been Lieutenant Generals under
_Alexander_, _Scipio_, _Annibal_ or _Julius Cæsar_; but are perfectly
ignorant of the modern military Discipline, Fortification and Artillery;
and of the very names of _Nassau_, _Condé_, _Turenne_, _Luxembourg_,
_Eugene_, _Villeroy_ and _Catinat_. They are excellent Guides, and can
direct you to every Alley, and Turning in old _Rome_ yet lose their way
home in their own Parish. They are mighty Admirers of the Wit and
Eloquence of the Ancients; Yet had they lived in the Time of
_Demosthenes_, and _Cicero_, would have treated them with as much
supercilious Pride, and disrespect as they do now the Moderns. They are
great Hunters of Ancient Manuscripts, and have in great Veneration any
thing that has escaped the Teeth of Time; and if Age has obliterated the
Characters, 'tis the more valuable for not being legible. These
Superstitious bigotted idolaters of time past, are children in their
Understanding all their lives, for they hang so incessantly upon the
leading-strings of Authority, that their Judgments like the Limbs of
some _Indian_ Penitents, become altogether crampt and motionless for
want of use. In fine, they think it a disparagement of their Learning to
talk what other Men understand, and will scarce believe that two and two
make four, under a Demonstration from _Euclid_, or a _Quotation from
Aristotle_.
The World shall allow a Man to be a wise Man, a good Naturalist, a good
Mathematician, Politician or Poet, but not a _Scholar_, or Learned Man,
unless he be a Philologer and understands Greek and Latin. But for my
part I take these Gentlemen have just inverted the life of the Term, and
given that to the Knowledge of Words, which belongs more properly to
Things. I take Nature to be the Book of Universal Learning, which he
that reads best in all or any of its Parts, is the greatest Scholar, the
most Learned Man; and 'tis as ridiculous for a Man to count himself more
learned than another, if he have no greater Extent of Knowledge of
things, because he is more vers'd in Languages, as it would be for an
old fellow to tell a young One, his own Eyes were better than the
other's because he reads with spectacles, the other without.
* _Impertinence_ is a Failing that has its Root in Nature, but is not
worth laughing at, till it has received the finishing strokes of _Art_.
A man thro' natural Defects may do abundance of incoherent foolish
Actions, yet deserves compassion and Advice rather than derision. But to
see Men spending their Fortunes, as well as lives, in a Course of
regular Folly, and with an industrious as well as expensive idleness
running thro' tedious systems of impertinence, would have split the
sides of _Heraclitus_, had it been his Fortune to have been a Spectator.
It's very easie to decide which of these impertinents is the most
signal: the Virtuoso is manifestly without a Competitor. For our follies
are not to be measured by the Degree of Ignorance that appears in 'em,
but by the study, labour and expence they cost us to finish and compleat
'em.
So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our
Extravagancies, the greater is the Folly of 'em. Upon this score it is
that the last mentioned deservedly claim the Preference to all others.
They have improved so well their Amusements into an Art, that the
credulous and ignorant are induced to believe there is some secret
Vertue, some hidden Mystery in those darling Toys of theirs: when all
their Bustling amounts to no more than a learned impertinence and all
they teach men is but a specious method of throwing away both Time and
Money.
"The _Illusions_ of _Poetry_ are fatal to none but the _Poets_
themselves: _Sidonius_ having lately miscarried upon the Stage, gathers
fresh Courage and is now big with the Hopes of a Play, writ by an
ancient celebrated Author, new-vampt and furbisht up after the laudable
Custom of our modern Witlings. He reckons how much he shall get by his
third day, nay, by his sixth; how much by the Printing, how much by the
Dedication, and by a modest Computation concludes the whole sum, will
amount to two hundred Pounds, which are to be distributed among his
trusty Duns. But mark the fallacy of _Vanity_ and _Self-conceit_: The
Play is acted, and casts the Audience into such a Lethargy, that They
are fain to damn it with _Yawning_, being in a manner deprived of the
Use of their _hissing_ Faculty. Well says, _Sidonius_, (after having
recover'd from a profound Consternation) _Now must the important Person
stand upon his own Leggs_. Right, _Sidonius_, but when do you come on
again, that _Covent-Garden_ Doctors may prescribe your Play instead of
Opium?
"The Town is not one jot more diverted by the Division of the
Play-houses: the _Players_ perform better 'tis true? but then the
_Poets_ write worse; Will the uniting of _Drury-Lane_ and
_Lincoln's-Inn-Fields_ mend Matters? No,--for then What the Town should
get in writing, they would lose it in Acting."
* A _Dramatick Poet_ has as hard a Task on't to manage, as a _passive
obedience Divine_ that preaches before the Commons on the 30th. of
_January_.
To please the _Pit_ and _Galleries_ he must take care to lard the
Dialogue with store of luscious stuff, which the righteous call Baudy;
to please the new Reformers he must have none, otherwise gruff _Jeremy_
will Lash him in a third _View_.
* I very much Question, after all, whether _Collier_ would have been at
the Pains to lash the immoralities of the stage, if the Dramatick Poets
had not been guilty of the _abominable Sin_ of making familiar now and
then with the Backslidings of the Cassock.
* _The Griping Usurer_, whose daily labour and nightly Care and Study
is to oppress the Poor, or over-reach his Neighbour, to betray the
Trusts his Hypocrisy procured; in short to break all the Positive Laws
of Morality, crys out, Oh! Diabolical, at a poor harmless _Double
Entendre_ in a Play.
"'Tis preposterous to pretend to reform the _Stage_ before the Nation,
and particularly the Town, is _reform'd_. The Business of a Dramatick
Poet is to _copy Nature_, and represent things as they are; Let our
Peers give over _whoring_ and _drinking_; the Citizens, _Cheating_; the
Clergy, their _Quarrels, Covetousness and Ambition_; the Lawyers, their
_ambi-dextrous dealings_; and the Women _intriguing_, and the stage will
reform of Course.
"Formerly _Poets_ made _Players_, but now adays 'tis generally the
_Player_ that makes the _Poet_. How many Plays would have expired the
very first Night of their appearing upon the Stage, but for _Betterton_,
_Barry_, _Bracegirdle_, or _Wilks_'s inimitable Performance.
"Who ever goes about to expose the Follies of others upon the Stage,
runs great hazard of exposing himself first; and of being made
Ridiculous to those very People he endeavours to make so.
"I doubt whether a Man of Sense would ever give himself the trouble of
writing for the Stage, if he had before his Eyes the fatigue of
Rehearsals, the Pangs and Agonies of the first day his Play is Acted,
the Disappointments of the third, and the Scandal of a Damn'd Poet.
"The reason why in _Shakespear_ and _Ben. Johnson_'s Time Plays had so
good Success, and that we see now so many of 'em miscarry, is because
then the Poets _wrote better_ than the Audience _Judg'd_; whereas
now-a-days the _Audience_ judge _better than the Poets write_."
* He that pretends to confine a Damsel of the Theatre to his own Use,
who by her Character is a Person of an extended Qualification, acts as
unrighteous, at least as unnatural, a Part, as he that would Debauch a
Nun. But after all, such a Spark rather consults his _Vanity_, than his
_Love_, and would be thought to ingross what all the young Coxcombs of
the Town admire and covet.
"Is it not a kind of Prodigy, that in this wicked and censorious Age,
the shining _Daphne_ should preserve her Reputation in a Play-House?"
The Character of a Player was Infamous amongst the _Romans_, but with
the _Greeks_ Honourable: What is our Opinion? We think of them like the
_Romans_, and live with them like the _Greeks_.
"Nothing so powerfully excites Love in us Men, as the view of those
Limbs of Women's Bodies, which the Establish'd Rules of Modesty bid 'em
keep from our Sight. No wonder then if _Aglaura_, _Cæsonia_, _Floria_,
and in general all the Women on our Stages, are so fond of acting in
Men's Cloaths.
"_Cæsonia_ is Young, I own it: But then _Cæsonia_ has an _African_ Nose,
hollow Eyes, and a _French_ Complexion; so that all the time she acted
in her Sex's Habit, her Conquests never extended further than one of her
Fellow-Players, or a Cast-Poet. Mark the Miracles of Fancy: _Cæsonia_
acts a _Boy_'s Part, and _Tallus_, one of the first _Patricians_, falls
desperately in Love with her, and presents her with two Hundred great
_Sesterces_ (a Gentlewoman's Portion) for a Night's Lodging.
"One would imagine our Matrons should be mighty Jealous of their
Husbands Intriguing with Players: But no, they bear it with a Christian
Patience. How is that possible? Why, they Intrigue themselves, either
with _Roscius_ the Tragedian, _Flagillus_, the Comedian, or _Bathillus_,
the Dancer."
Nothing Surprizes me more, than to see Men Laugh so freely at a Comedy,
and yet account it a silly weakness to Weep at a Tragedy. For is it less
natural for a Man's Heart to relent upon a Scene of Pity, than to be
transported with Joy upon one of Mirth and Humour? Or is it only the
alteration of the Features of one's Face that makes us forbear Crying?
But this alteration is undoubtedly as great in an immoderate Laughter,
as in a most desperate Grief; and good Breeding teaches us to avoid the
one as well as the other, before those for whom we have a Respect. Or is
it painful to us to appear tender-hearted and express grief upon a
Fiction? But without quoting great Wits who account it an equal
Weakness, either to weep or laugh out of Measure, can we expect to be
tickled by a Tragical Adventure? And besides, is not Truth as naturally
represented in that as in a Comical one? Therefore as we do not think it
ridiculous to see a whole Audience laugh at a merry jest or humour
acted to the life, but on the contrary we commend the skill both of the
Poet and the Actor; so the great Violence we use upon our selves to
contain our tears, together with the forc'd a-wry smiles with which we
strive to conceal our Concern, do forcibly evince that the natural
effect of a good _Tragedy_ is to make us all weep by consent, without
any more ado than to pull out our Handkerchiefs to wipe off our Tears.
And if it were once agreed amongst us not to resist those tender
impressions of _Pity_, I dare engage that we would soon be convinc'd
that by frequenting the Play-house we run less danger of being put to
the expence of Tears, than of being almost frozen to death by many a
cold, dull insipid jest.
We must make it our main Business and Study to _think_ and _write well_,
and not labour to submit other People's Palates and Opinions to our own;
which is the greater difficulty of the two.
One should serve his time to learn how to make a _Book_, just as some
men do to learn how to make a watch, for there goes something more than
either Wit or Learning to the setting up for an _Author_. A _Lawyer_ of
this Town was an able, subtle and experienc'd Man in the way of his
Business, and might for ought I know, have come to be _Lord Chief
Justice_, but he has lately miscarried in the Good Opinion of the World,
only by Printing some Essays which are a Master-piece--in _Nonsense_.
It is a more difficult matter to get a Name by a _Perfect Composure_,
than to make an _indifferent_ one valued by that Reputation a Man has
already got in the World.
There are some things which admit of no _mediocrity_; such as _Poetry_,
_Painting_, _Musick and Oratory_--What Torture can be greater than to
hear Doctor F---- declaim a flat Oration with formality and Pomp, or
D---- read his Pyndaricks with all the Emphasis of a _Dull Poet_.
We have not as yet seen any excellent Piece, but what is owing to the
Labour of one single Man: _Homer_, for the purpose, has writ the
_Iliad_; _Virgil_, the _Æneid_; _Livy_ his _Decads_; and the _Roman_
Orator his Orations; but our _modern several Hands_ present us often
with nothing but a _Variety of Errors_.
There is in the Arts and Sciences such a _Point of Perfection_, as there
is one of _Goodness_ or _maturity_ in Fruits; and he that can find and
relish it must be allowed to have a _True Tast_; but on the contrary, he
that neither perceives it, nor likes any thing on this side, or beyond
it, has but a defective Palate. Hence I conclude that there is a bad
_Taste_ and a _good_ one, and that the disputing about _Tastes_ is not
altogether unreasonable.
The Lives of _Heroes_ have enricht _History_ and History in requital has
embellished and heightened the Lives of _Heroes_, so that it is no easie
matter to determine which of the two is more beholden to the other:
either _Historians_, to those who have furnished them with so great and
noble a matter to work upon; or those great Men, to those Writers that
have convey'd their names and Atchievements down to the _Admiration of
after-Ages._
There are many of our _Wits_ that feed for a while upon the _Ancients_,
and the best of our Modern Authors: and when they have _squeez'd_ out
and _extracted_ matter enough to appear in Print and set up for
themselves, most ungratefully abuse them, like children grown strong and
lusty by the good milk they have sucked, who generally beat their
Nurses.
A _Modern_ Author proves both by Reasons and Examples that the
_Ancients_ are inferior to us; and fetches his Arguments from his own
particular Tast, and his Examples from his own _Writings_. He owns, That
the _Ancients_ tho' generally uneven and uncorrect, have yet here and
there some fine Touches, and indeed these are so fine, that the quoting
of them is the only thing that makes his _Criticisms_ worth a Mans
reading 'em.
Some great Men pronounce for the _Ancients_ against the _Moderns_: But
their own Composures are so agreeable to the Taste of Antiquity, and
bear so great a resemblance with the Patterns they have left us, that
they seem to be judges in their own Case and being suspected of
Partiality, are therefore _ceptionable_.
It is the Character of a _Pedant_ to be unwilling either to ask a
Friend's advice about his Work or to alter what he has been made
sensible to be a fault.
We ought to read our Writings to those only, who have Judgment enough to
correct what is amiss, and esteem what deserves to be commended.
An _Author_, ought to receive with an equal Modesty both the Praise and
Censure of other People upon his own Works.
A great facility in submitting to other People's Censure is sometimes as
faulty as a great roughness in rejecting it: for there is no Composure
so every way accomplisht, but what would be pared and clipped to nothing
if a man would follow the advice of every finical scrupulous Critick,
who often would have the best Things left out because forsooth, they are
not agreeable to his dull Palate.
The great Pleasure some People take in _criticizing_ upon the _small
Faults_ of a Book so vitiates their Taste, that it renders them unfit to
be _affected_ with it's _Beauties_.
The same Niceness of Judgment which makes some Men write sence, makes
them very often shy and unwilling to appear in Print.
Among the several _Expressions_ We may use for the same Thought, there
is but an individual one which is good and proper; any other but that is
flat and imperfect, and cannot please an ingenious Man that has a mind
to explain what he thinks: And it is no small wonder to me to consider,
what Pains, even the best of Writers are sometimes at, to seek out that
Expression, which being the most simple and natural, ought consequently
to have presented it self without Study.
'Tis to no great purpose that a Man seeks to make himself admir'd by his
Composures: Blockheads, indeed, may oftentimes admire him but then they
are but Blockheads; and as for _Wits_ they have in themselves the seeds
or hints of all the good and fine things that can possibly be thought of
or said; and therefore they seldom admire any thing, but only approve of
what hits their Palate.
The being a _Critick_ is not so much a Science as a sort of laborious,
and painful Employment, which requires more strength of Body, than
delicacy of Wit, and more assiduity than natural Parts.
As some merit Praise for writing well, so do others for not writing at
all.
That _Author_ who chiefly endeavours to please the Taste of the Age he
lives in, rather consults his private interest, than that of his
_Writings_. We ought always to have perfection in Prospect as the chief
thing we aim at, and that Point once gain'd, we may rest assured that
unbyassed _Posterity_ will do us Justice, which is often deny'd us by
our _Contemporaries_.
'Tis matter of discretion in an Author to be extreamly reserv'd and
modest when he speaks of the Work he is upon, for fear he should raise
the World's Expectation too high: For it is most certain, that our
Opinion of an extraordinary Promise, goes always further than the
Performance, and a Man's Reputation cannot but be much lessen'd by such
a Disparity.
The Name of the _Author_ ought to be the last thing we inquire into,
when we Judge of the merit of an ingenious Composure, but contrary to
this maxim we generally judge of the _Book_ by the _Author_, instead of
judging of the _Author_ by the _Book_.