PART I.

[Transcriber’s Note:

Characters preceded by a caret(^) are in superscript, and are enclosed

in curly brackets, i. e. {th}.

Italicised text delimited by underscores.

There are many special characters in this text that require a utf-8

compliant font. If you find characters that appear as a question mark

in a black box or a small rectangle with numbers in it, you should

check your reader’s default font. If you have a font installed with

SIL after the font name, you should use that one.]

THE

WORKS

OF

RICHARD HURD, D.D.

LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.

VOL. I.

Printed by J. Nichols and Son,

Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.

[Illustration: The Right Reverend RICHARD HURD, D. D. Lord Bishop of

Worcester.

T. Gainsborough pinx. J. Hall sculp.

From the Original Picture in the Possession of her Majesty.

_Published March 1^{st}. 1811. by T. Cadell & W. Davies, Strand,

London._]

THE

WORKS

OF

RICHARD HURD, D. D.

LORD BISHOP OF WORCESTER.

IN EIGHT VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

[Illustration]

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, STRAND.

1811.

DATES

OF SOME OCCURRENCES

IN THE

LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.

_The following Particulars, in the Author’s own hand-writing,

and endorsed by him—“Some Occurrences in my Life. R. W.”—were

found amongst his papers after his decease._

DATES

_Of some Occurrences in my own Life_.

[Sidenote: A. D.]

[Sidenote: 1719-20]

Richard Hurd was born at Congreve, in the Parish of Penkrich, in the

County of Stafford, January 13, 1719-20.

He was the second of three children, all sons, of John and Hannah Hurd;

plain, honest, and good people; of whom he can truly say with the poet—

_Si natura juberet, &c._

They rented a considerable farm at Congreve, when he was born; but soon

after removed to a larger at Penford, about half way between Brewood

and Wolverhampton in the same County.

There being a good Grammar School at Brewood, he was educated there

under the Reverend Mr. Hillman, and, upon his death, under his

successor, the Reverend Mr. Budworth—both well qualified for their

office, and both very kind to him.

Mr. Budworth had been Master of the School at Rudgely; where he

continued two years after his election to Brewood, while the

School-house, which had been much neglected, was repairing. He was

therefore sent to Rudgely immediately on Mr. Budworth’s appointment to

Brewood, returned with him to this place, and continued under his care,

till he went to the University.

He must add one word more of his _second_ Master. He knew him well,

when he afterwards was of an age to judge of his merits. He had been a

scholar of the famous Mr. Blackwell of Derby, and afterwards bred at

Christ’s College in Cambridge, where he resided till he had taken his

M. A.’s degree. He understood Greek and Latin well, and had a true taste

of the best writers in those languages. He was, besides, a polite,

well-bred man, and singularly attentive to the _manners_, in every

sense of the word, of his scholars. He had a warm sense of virtue and

religion, and enforced both with a natural and taking eloquence. How

happy, to have had such a man, first, for his school-master, and then

for his friend.

[Sidenote: 1733]

Under so good direction, he was thought fit for the University, and was

accordingly admitted in Emanuel College, in Cambridge, October 3, 1733,

but did not go to reside there till a year or two afterwards.

In this college, he was happy in receiving the countenance, and in

being permitted to attend the Lectures, of that excellent Tutor, Mr.

Henry Hubbard, although he had been admitted under another person.

[Sidenote: 1738-9]

He took his B. A.’s degree in 1738-9.

[Sidenote: 1742]

He took his M. A.’s degree, and was elected fellow in 1742.

Was ordained Deacon, 13th of June that year in St. Paul’s Cathedral,

London, by Dr. Jos. Butler, Bishop of Bristol and Dean of St. Paul’s,

on Letters Dimissory from Dr. Gooch, Bishop of Norwich.

[Sidenote: 1744]

Was ordained Priest, 20 May 1744 in the Chapel of Gonville and Caius

College, Cambridge, by the Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Gooch.

[Sidenote: 1749]

He took his B. D.’s degree in 1749.

[Sidenote: 1750]

He published the same year Remarks on Mr. Weston’s book on the

_Rejection of Heathen Miracles_, and his Commentary on Horace’s _Ars

Poetica_; which last book introduced him to the acquaintance of Mr.

Warburton, by whose recommendation to the Bishop of London, Dr.

Sherlock, he was appointed Whitehall Preacher in May 1750.

[Sidenote: 1751]

He published the Commentary on the Epistle to Augustus in 1751.

[Sidenote: 1753]

—the new edition of both Comments, with Dedication to Mr. Warburton, in

1753.

[Sidenote: 1755]

—the Dissertation on the Delicacy of Friendship in 1755.

His Father died Nov. 27 this year, æt. 70.

[Sidenote: 1757]

He published the Remarks on Hume’s Natural History of Religion in 1757.

Was instituted this year, Feb. 16, to the Rectory of Thurcaston, in the

County of Leicester, on the presentation of Emanuel College.

[Sidenote: 1759]

He published Moral and Political Dialogues 1759.

[Sidenote: 1762]

He had the Sine-cure Rectory of Folkton, near Bridlington, Yorkshire,

given him by the Lord Chancellor (Earl of Northington) on the

recommendation of Mr. Allen, of Prior Park, near Bath, November 2, 1762.

He published the Letters on Chivalry and Romance this year.

[Sidenote: 1763]

—Dialogues on Foreign Travel in 1763.

[Sidenote: 1764]

And Letter to Dr. Leland of Dublin in 1764.

[Sidenote: 1765]

He was made Preacher of Lincoln’s Inn, on the recommendation of Mr.

Charles Yorke, &c. November 6, 1765.

[Sidenote: 1767]

Was collated to the Archdeaconry of Gloucester, on the death of Dr.

Geekie, by the Bishop, August 27, 1767.

[Sidenote: 1768]

Was appointed to open the Lecture of Bishop Warburton on Prophecy in

1768.

He took the degree of D. D. at Cambridge Commencement this year.

[Sidenote: 1772]

He published the Sermons on Prophecy in 1772.

[Sidenote: 1773]

His Mother died Feb. 27, 1773, æt. 88.

[Sidenote: 1775]

He was consecrated Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, the 12th of

February 1775.

[Sidenote: 1776]

He published the 1st Volume of Sermons preached at Lincoln’s Inn, 1776.

And was made Preceptor to the Prince of Wales and his brother Prince

Frederick, the 5th of June the same year.

Preached before the Lords, December 13, 1776, first Fast for the war.

[Sidenote: 1779]

He lost his old and best friend, Bishop Warburton, June 7th, 1779.

[Sidenote: 1780]

He published the 2d and 3d Volumes of Sermons in 1780.

These three Volumes were published at the desire of the Bench of

Lincoln’s Inn.

[Sidenote: 1781]

He was elected Member of the Royal Society of Gottingen, January 11,

1781.

The Bishop of Winchester [Dr. Thomas] died Tuesday, May 1, 1781.

Received a gracious letter from his Majesty the next morning, by a

special messenger from Windsor, with the offer of the See of Worcester,

in the room of Bishop North, to be translated to Winchester, and of the

Clerkship of the Closet, in the room of the late Bishop of Winchester.

On his arrival at Hartlebury Castle in July that year, resolved to put

the Castle into complete order, and to build a Library, which was much

wanted.

[Sidenote: 1782]

The Library was finished in 1782 and furnished with a collection of

books, late Bishop Warburton’s, and ordered by his Will to be sold, and

the value given to the Infirmary at Gloucester

[Sidenote: 1783]

To these, other considerable additions have been since made.

Archbishop Cornwallis died in 1783.

Had the offer of the Archbishoprick from his Majesty, with many

gracious expressions, and pressed to accept it; but humbly begged leave

to decline it, as a charge not suited to his temper and talents, and

much too heavy for him to sustain, especially in these times.

The King was pleased not to take offence at this freedom, and then to

enter with him into some confidential conversation on the subject. It

was offered to the Bishop of London, Dr. Lowth, and refused by him, as

was foreseen, on account of his ill health. It was then given to Dr.

Moore, Bishop of Bangor.

[Sidenote: 1784]

Added a considerable number of books to the new Library at Hartlebury

in 1784.

[Sidenote: 1785]

Confirmed Prince Edward [their Majesties’ 4th son] in the Chapel of

Windsor Castle, May 14th, 1785.

Added more books to the Library this year. And put the last hand (at

least he thinks so) to the Bishop of Gloucester’s Life, to be prefixed

to the new edition of his works now in the press.

Confirmed Princess Augusta [their Majesties’ second daughter] in the

Chapel of Windsor Castle, Dec. the 24th this year.

Preached in the Chapel the next day (Christmas day) and administered

the Sacrament to their Majesties and the Princess Royal and Princess

Augusta.

[Sidenote: 1786]

Preached before the Lords the 30th of January 1786.

His Majesty was pleased this year to bestow a prebend of Worcester

[vacant by the death of Dr. Young] on my Chaplain, Mr. Kilvert.

Preached before their Majesties and Royal Family in the Chapel of

Windsor Castle, and administered the Sacrament to them, on Christmas

day 1786.

[Sidenote: 1788]

In the end of February this year, 1788,

was published in seven volumes 4to a complete edition of the works of

Bishop Warburton. The _Life_ is omitted for the present.

March 13, 1788, a fine gold Medal was this day given me by his Majesty

at the Queen’s House.

The King’s head on one side. The Reverse was taken from a Seal of

mine[1], which his Majesty chanced to see, and approved.

The Die was cut by Mr. Burch, and the Medal designed for the annual

Prize-Dissertation on Theological Subjects in the University of

Gottingen.

[Sidenote: July 12.]

This summer the King came to Cheltenham to drink the waters, and

was attended by the Queen, the Princess Royal, and the Princesses

Augusta and Elizabeth. They arrived at Cheltenham in the evening of

Saturday July the 12th, and resided in a house of Earl Falconberg.

From Cheltenham they made excursions to several places in

Gloucestershire and Worcestershire, and were every where received

with joy by all ranks of people.

[Sidenote: Aug. 2]

On Saturday, August the second, They were pleased to visit Hartlebury,

at the distance of thirty-three miles, or more. The Duke of York

came from London to Cheltenham the day before, and was pleased to

come with them. They arrived at Hartlebury at half an hour past

eleven. Lord Courtoun, Mr. Digby (the Queen’s Vice-Chamberlain), Col.

Gwin (one of the King’s Equerries), the Countesses of Harcourt and

Courtoun, composed the suite. Their Majesties, after seeing the House,

breakfasted in the Library; and, when they had reposed themselves some

time, walked into the Garden, and took several turns on the Terrases,

especially the Green Terras in the Chapel Garden. Here they shewed

themselves to an immense croud of people, who flocked in from the

neighbourhood, and standing on the rising grounds in the Park, saw, and

were seen, to great advantage. The day being extremely bright, the shew

was agreeable and striking. About two o’clock, their Majesties, &c.

returned to Cheltenham.

[Sidenote: Aug. 5.]

On the Tuesday following, August the fifth, their Majesties, with the

three Princesses, arrived at 8 o’clock in the evening at the Bishop’s

Palace in Worcester, to attend the charitable meeting of the three

Quires of Worcester, Hereford, and Gloucester, for the benefit of the

widows and orphans of the poorer Clergy of those Dioceses; which had

been fixed, in consequence of the signification of the King’s intention

to honour that solemnity with his presence, for the 6th, 7th, and 8th

of that month.

The next morning a little before 10 o’clock, the King was pleased

to receive the compliments of the Clergy. The Bishop, in the name

of himself, Dean and Chapter and Clergy of the Church and Diocese,

addressed the King in the Great Hall, in a short speech[2], to which

his Majesty was pleased to return a gracious answer. He had then the

honour to address the Queen in a few words, to which a gracious reply

was made; and they had all the honour to kiss the King’s and Queen’s

hand.

Soon after 10, the Corporation, by their Recorder, the Earl of

Coventry, addressed and went through the same ceremony of kissing the

King’s hand. Then the King had a Levée in the Great Hall, which lasted

till 11, when their Majesties, &c. walked through the Court of the

Palace to the Cathedral, to attend divine Service and a Sermon. The

Apparitor General, 2 Sextons, 2 Virgers, and 8 Beadsmen, walked before

the King (as on great occasions they usually do before the Bishop);

the Lord in waiting (Earl of Oxford) on the King’s right hand, and the

Bishop in his lawn on the left. After the King, came the Queen and

Princesses, attended by the Countesses of Pembroke and Harcourt (Ladies

of the Bed-chamber), and the Countess of Courtown, and the rest of

their Suite. At the entrance of the Cathedral, their Majesties were

received by the Dean and Chapter in their Surplices and hoods, and

conducted to the foot of the stairs leading to their seat in a Gallery

prepared and richly furnished by the Stewards[3] for their use, at the

bottom of the Church near the West window.

The same ceremony was observed the two following days, on which they

heard sacred music, but without prayers or a sermon. On the last day

Aug. 8th, the King was pleased to give £.200 to the charity: and in the

evening attended a concert in the College Hall for the benefit of the

Stewards.

[Sidenote: Aug. 9]

On Saturday morning, Aug. 9th, the King and Queen, &c. returned to

Cheltenham.

During their Majesties’ stay at the Palace, they attended prayers in

the Chapel of the Palace every morning (except the first, when the

service was performed in the Church) which were read by the Bishop.

The King at parting was pleased to put into my hands for the poor of

the City £.50, and the Queen £.50 more; which I desired the Mayor (Mr.

Davis) to see distributed amongst them in a proper manner.

The King also left £.300 in my hands towards releasing the Debtors in

the County and City Jails.

During the three days at Worcester, the concourse of people of all

ranks was immense, and the joy universal. The weather was uncommonly

fine. And no accident of any kind interrupted the mutual satisfaction,

which was given, and received, on this occasion.

[Sidenote: Aug. 16]

On Saturday, August 16, the King and Royal Family left Cheltenham, and

returned that evening to Windsor.

[Sidenote: Nov. 1]

In the beginning of November following,

[Sidenote: 1789]

[Sidenote: Feb. 28]

the King was seized with that illness, which was so much lamented.

It continued till the end of February 1789, when his Majesty happily

recovered.

[Sidenote: Mar. 15]

Soon after I had his Majesty’s command to attend him at Kew; and on

March 15, I administered the Sacrament to his Majesty at Windsor in the

Chapel of the Castle, as also on Easter Sunday, April 12,

[Sidenote: April 12]

and preached both days.

At the Sacrament of March 15, the King was attended only by three or

four of his Gentlemen: On Easter-day, the Queen, Princess Royal, and

Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth, with several Lords and Gentlemen and

Ladies of the Court, attended the King to the Chapel, and received the

Sacrament with him.

[Sidenote: April 23]

On April 23 [St. George’s Day] a public thanksgiving for the King’s

recovery was appointed. His Majesty, the Queen, and Royal Family, with

the two Houses of Parliament, &c. went in procession to St. Paul’s. The

Bishop of London preached. I was not well enough to be there.

[Sidenote: 1790]

[Sidenote: May 28]

May 28, 1790, the Duke of Montagu died. He was a nobleman of singular

worth and virtue; of an exemplary life; and of the best principles

in Church and State. As Governor to the Prince of Wales and Prince

Frederick, he was very attentive to his charge, and executed that trust

with great propriety and dignity. The Preceptor was honoured with his

confidence: and there never was the least misunderstanding between

them; or so much as a difference of opinion as to the manner in which

the education of the Princes should be conducted.

In October 1790, I had the honour to receive from the King the present

of two fine full-length pictures of his Majesty and the Queen, copied

from those at the Queen’s House, St. James’s Park, painted by the late

Mr. Gainsborough.

These pictures are put up in the great Drawing-room at the Palace in

Worcester, and betwixt them, over the fire-place, is fixed an oval

tablet of white marble with the following Inscription in Gold Letters.

“Hospes,

Imagines, quas contemplaris,

Augustorum Principum,

Georgii III, et Charlottæ Conjugis,

Rex ipse

Richardo Episcopo Vigorniensi

Donavit,

1790.”

[Sidenote: 1791]

[Sidenote: Sept. 17]

My younger Brother, Mr. Thomas Hurd, of Birmingham, died on Saturday,

Sept. 17, 1791.

[Sidenote: 1792]

[Sidenote: Dec. 6]

My elder Brother, Mr. John Hurd, of Hatton, near Shifnal, died on

Thursday, December 6, 1792.

[Sidenote: 1793]

[Sidenote: March 20]

My noble and honoured friend, the Earl of Mansfield, died March 20,

1793.

[Sidenote: 1795]

[Sidenote: Jan. 19]

My old and much esteemed friend, Dr. Balguy, Prebendary and Archdeacon

of Winchester, died January 19, 1795.

[Sidenote: Feb. 24]

The Life of Bishop Warburton, which was sent to the press in Autumn

last, was not printed off till the end of January, nor published till

towards the end of February this year.

[Sidenote: Dec. 1]

Printed in the course of this year at the Kidderminster press a

Collection of Bishop Warburton’s Letters to me, to be published after

my death for the benefit of the Worcester Infirmary.—The edition

consisted of 250 Copies, 4to—was finished at the press in the

beginning of December.

[Sidenote: 1796]

[Sidenote: June 17 to 30]

In the Summer of 1796 visited my Diocese in person, I have great reason

to suppose for the last time; being in the 77th year of my age—_fiat

voluntas Dei!_

[Sidenote: Sept. 1]

Mrs. Stafford Smith, late Mrs. Warburton, died at Fladbury, September

1, 1796.

[Sidenote: 1797]

[Sidenote: April 5]

Mr. Mason died at Aston, April 5, 1797. He was one of my oldest and

most respected friends. How few of this description now remain!

[Sidenote: 1799]

[Sidenote: Jan. 24]

By God’s great mercy enter this day [24 Jan. 1799] into my 80th year.

Ps. xc. 10. But see, 1 Cor. xv. 22. Rom. viii. 18. 1 Pet. i. 3-5. Χάρις

τῷ Θεῷ ἐπὶ τῇ ἀνεκδιηγήτῳ αὐτοῦ δωρεᾷ. 2 Cor. ix. 15.

[Sidenote: May 27 to June 14]

It pleased God that I was able this Summer to confirm over all parts of

my Diocese.

[Sidenote: 1800]

[Sidenote: June 6 to 17]

And to visit my Diocese in person once more in June 1800.—L. D.

[Sidenote: 1801]

[Sidenote: May 16]

Lost my old and worthy friend Dr. Heberden, in the 91st or 92nd year of

his age, May 16, 1801.

[Sidenote: 1802]

[Sidenote: June 15]

Consecrated, on Tuesday the 15th of June, 1802, the new Church and

Church-yard of Lower Eatington, near Shipston, in Warwickshire.

[Sidenote: Aug. 5]

My most deserving, unhappy, friend, Dr. William Arnald, died at

Leicester, August 5, 1802.

[Sidenote: 1803]

[Sidenote: May 31 to June 3]

Visited my Diocese by Commission—Commissioners, Dr. Arnold, my

Chancellor, and Dr. Evans, Archdeacon.

[Sidenote: 1804]

[Sidenote: July 25]

St. James’ day, July 25, 1804, held an Ordination in Hartlebury

Chapel—3 Deacons, 5 Priests—the last I can expect to undertake.

[Sidenote: 1805]

[Sidenote:

March 27

28

29

]

Confirmations by the Bishop of Chester (Dr. Majendie.)

March 27, Stratford.

28, Bromsgrove.

29, Hales Owen.

[Sidenote:

June 14

15

17

]

—by the Bishop of Hereford (Dr. Cornwall.)

June 14, Worcester

15, Pershore

17, Kidderminster

[Sidenote: 1806]

Visited my Diocese this year by Commission—

Commissioners,

The Chancellor and Archdeacon.

Warwick May 26.

Worcester 28.

Kidderminster 30.

Pershore 31.

[Sidenote: 1807]

[Sidenote: Sept. 26]

1807, Sept. 26. The Prince of Wales visited Lady Downshire, at

Ombersley Court this month. I was too infirm to wait upon him either at

Ombersley or Worcester; but his Royal Highness was pleased to call at

Hartlebury, on Saturday the 26th of this month, attended by his brother

the Duke of Sussex, and Lord Lake, and staid with me above an hour.

[Sidenote: 1808]

1808, April 23. Granted a Commission to the Bishop of Chester,

(Dr. Majendie,) to consecrate the new Chapel and burying-ground at

Red-Ditch, in the parish of Tardebig; which was performed this day,

Thursday, April 21, 1808, the proper officers of the Court, and two of

my Chaplains attending.

* * * * *

To this short narrative (the last paragraph of which was written by the

Author only five weeks before his death) little more will be added.

So late as the first Sunday in February before his death, though then

declining in health and strength, he was able to attend his Parish

Church, and to receive the Sacrament. Free from any painful or acute

disorder, he gradually became weaker, but his faculties continued

perfect. After a few days confinement to his bed, he expired in his

sleep, on Saturday morning, May 28, 1808; having completed four months

beyond his eighty-eighth year. He was buried in Hartlebury Church-yard,

according to his own directions.

He had been Bishop of Worcester for almost twenty-seven years: a longer

period than any Bishop of that See since the Reformation.

GENERAL CONTENTS.

VOL. I. and II.

CRITICAL WORKS.

VOL. I. Q. Horatii Flacci Epistolae ad Pisones, et Augustum: _With

an English Commentary and Notes_.

VOL. II. CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS.

_On the Idea of Universal Poetry._

_On the Provinces of Dramatic Poetry._

_On Poetical Imitation._

_On the Marks of Imitation._

VOL. III. and IV.

MORAL AND POLITICAL DIALOGUES.

VOL. III. _On Sincerity in the Commerce of the World._

_On Retirement._

_On the Age of Queen Elizabeth._

_On the Constitution of the English Government._

VOL. IV. _On the Constitution of the English Government._

_On the Uses of Foreign Travel._

_And_

LETTERS _on Chivalry and Romance_.

VOL. V. VI. VII. and VIII.

THEOLOGICAL WORKS.

VOL. V. SERMONS _introductory to the study of the Prophecies_.

_With an Appendix;_

_Containing an anonymous Letter to the Author of these

Sermons, and his Answer to it._

VOL. VI. SERMONS _preached at Lincoln’s Inn_.

VOL. VII. SERMONS _preached at Lincoln’s Inn_.

VOL. VIII. SERMONS _on public Occasions_.

CHARGES _to the Clergy_.

_And_

_An Appendix;_

_Containing Controversial Tracts on different subjects and

occasions._

CRITICAL WORKS.

VOL. I.

Q. HORATII FLACCI

EPISTOLAE

AD

PISONES,

ET

AUGUSTUM:

WITH AN ENGLISH

COMMENTARY AND NOTES:

TO WHICH ARE ADDED

CRITICAL DISSERTATIONS.

CONTENTS.

VOL. I.

INTRODUCTION,

_On Epistolary Writing_.

EPISTOLA AD PISONES:

_With an English Commentary and Notes_.

EPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM:

_With an English Commentary and Notes_.

VOL. II.

DISSERTATION I.

_On the Idea of Universal Poetry._

DISSERTATION II.

_On the Provinces of Dramatic Poetry._

DISSERTATION III.

_On Poetical Imitation._

DISSERTATION IV.

_On the Marks of Imitation._

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

INTRODUCTION,

_On Epistolary Writing_. 13

EPISTOLA AD PISONES:

_With an English Commentary and Notes_. 27

EPISTOLA AD AUGUSTUM:

_With an English Commentary and Notes_. 279

TO

SIR EDWARD LITTLETON, BART.

DEAR SIR,

Having reviewed these Sheets with some care, I beg leave to put them

into your hands, as a testimony of the respect I bear you; and, for the

time that such things may have the fortune to live, as a monument of

our friendship.

You see, by the turn of this address, you have nothing to fear from

that offensive adulation, which has so much dishonoured Letters. You

and I have lived together on other terms. And I should be ashamed to

offer you even such a trifle as this, in a manner that would give you a

right to think meanly of its author.

Your extreme delicacy allows me to say nothing of my obligations, which

otherwise would demand my warmest acknowledgements. For your constant

favour has followed me in all ways, in which you could contrive to

express it. And indeed I have never known any man more sensible to the

good offices of his friends, and even to their good intentions, or

more disposed, by every proper method, to acknowledge them. But you

much over-rate the little services, which it has been in my power to

render to you. I had the honour to be intrusted with a part of your

education, and it was my duty to contribute all I could to the success

of it. But the task was easy and pleasant. I had only to cultivate that

good sense, and those generous virtues, which you brought with you to

the University, and which had already grown up to some maturity under

the care of a man, to whom we had both of us been extremely obliged;

and who possessed every talent of a perfect institutor of youth in

a degree, which, I believe, has been rarely found in any of that

profession, since the days of _Quinctilian_.

I wish this small tribute of respect, in which I know how cordially

you join with me, could be any honour to the memory of an excellent

person[4], who loved us both, and was less known, in his life-time,

from that obscure situation to which the caprice of fortune oft

condemns the most accomplished characters, than his highest merit

deserved.

It was to cherish and improve that taste of polite letters, which his

early care had instilled into you, that you required me to explain to

you the following exquisite piece of the best poet. I recollect with

pleasure how welcome this slight essay then was to you; and am secure

of the kind reception you will now give to it; improved, as I think

it is, in some respects, and presented to you in this public way.—I

was going to say, how much you benefited by this poet (the fittest of

all others, for the study of a gentleman) in your acquaintance with

his _moral_, as well as critical writings; and how successfully you

applied yourself to every other part of learning, which was thought

proper for you—But I remember my engagements with you, and will not

hazard your displeasure by saying too much. It is enough for me to add,

that I truly respect and honour you; and that, for the rest, I indulge

in those hopes, which every one, who knows you, entertains from the

excellence of your nature, from the hereditary honour of your family,

and from an education in which you have been trained to the study of

the best things.

I am,

DEAR SIR,

Your most faithful and

most obedient Servant,

R. HURD.

EMAN. COLL. CAMB.

June 21, 1757.

INTRODUCTION.

It is agreed on all hands, that the antients are our masters in the

_art_ of composition. Such of their writings, therefore, as deliver

instructions for the exercise of this _art_, must be of the highest

value. And, if any of them hath acquired a credit, in this respect,

superior to the rest, it is, perhaps, the _following work_: which the

learned have long since considered as a kind of _summary_ of the rules

of good writing; to be gotten by heart by every young student; and to

whose decisive authority the greatest masters in taste and composition

must finally submit.

But the more unquestioned the credit of this poem is, the more it will

concern the public, that it be justly and accurately understood. The

writer of these sheets then believed it might be of use, if he took

some pains to clear the sense, connect the method, and ascertain the

scope and purpose, of this admired epistle. Others, he knew indeed, and

some of the first fame for critical learning, had been before him in

this attempt. Yet he did not find himself prevented by their labours;

in which, besides innumerable lesser faults, he, more especially,

observed two inveterate errors, of such a sort, as must needs perplex

the genius, and distress the learning of _any_ commentator. The _one_

of these respects the SUBJECT; the other, the METHOD of the _Art of

poetry_. It will be necessary to say something upon each.

1. That the _Art of poetry_, at large, is not the _proper_ subject

of this piece, is so apparent, that it hath not escaped the dullest

and least attentive of its critics. For, however all the different

_kinds_ of poetry might appear to enter into it, yet every one saw,

that _some_ at least were very slightly considered: whence the frequent

attempts, the _artes et institutiones poeticæ_, of writers both at

home and abroad, to supply its deficiencies. But, though this truth

was seen and confessed, it unluckily happened, that the sagacity of

his numerous commentators went no further. They still considered this

famous epistle as a _collection_, though not a _system_, of criticisms

on poetry in general; with this concession however, that the stage

had evidently the largest share in it[5]. Under the influence of this

prejudice, several writers of name took upon them to comment and

explain it: and with the success, which was to be expected from so

fatal a mistake on setting out, as the not seeing, “that the proper and

sole purpose of the author, was, not to abridge the Greek critics,

whom he probably never thought of; nor to amuse himself with composing

a short critical system, for the general use of poets, which every line

of it absolutely confutes; but, simply to criticize the ROMAN DRAMA.”

For to this end, not the tenor of the work only, but, as will appear,

every single precept in it, ultimately refers. The mischiefs of this

original error have been long felt. It hath occasioned a constant

perplexity in defining the _general_ method, and in fixing the import

of _particular_ rules. Nay its effects have reached still further.

For, conceiving as they did, that the whole had been composed out of

the Greek critics, the labour and ingenuity of its interpreters have

been misemployed in picking out authorities, which were not wanted,

and in producing, or, more properly, by their studied refinements in

_creating_, conformities, which were never designed. Whence it hath

come to pass, that, instead of investigating the order of the poet’s

own reflexions, and scrutinizing the peculiar state of the Roman stage

(the methods, which common sense and common criticism would prescribe)

the world hath been nauseated with insipid lectures on _Aristotle_ and

_Phalereus_; whose solid sense hath been so attenuated and subtilized

by the delicate operation of French criticism, as hath even gone some

way towards bringing the _art_ itself into disrepute.

2. But the wrong explications of this poem have arisen, not from the

misconception of the _subject_ only, but from an inattention to the

METHOD of it. The _latter_ was, in part, the genuin consequence of

the _former_. For, not suspecting an unity of design in the subject,

its interpreters never looked for, or could never find a consistency

of disposition in the method. And this was indeed the very block

upon which HEINSIUS, and, before him, _Julius Scaliger_, himself,

stumbled. These illustrious critics, with all the force of genius,

which is required to disembarrass an involved subject, and all the

aids of learning, that can lend a ray to enlighten a dark one, have,

notwithstanding, found themselves utterly unable to unfold the order of

this epistle; insomuch, that SCALIGER[6], hath boldly pronounced the

conduct of it to be _vicious_; and HEINSIUS, had no other way to evade

the charge, than by recurring to the forced and uncritical expedient

of a licentious transposition. The truth is, they were both in one

common error, That the poet’s purpose had been to write a criticism of

the art of poetry at large, and not, as is here shewn, of the Roman

drama in particular. But there is something more to be observed, in

the case of HEINSIUS. For, as will be made appear in the notes on

particular places, this critic did not pervert the order of the piece,

from a simple mistake about the drift of the subject, but, also, from a

total inapprehension of the genuin charm and beauty of the _epistolary

method_. And, because I take this to be a principal cause of the wrong

interpretations, that have been given of all the epistles of Horace;

and it is, in itself, a point of curious criticism, of which little or

nothing hath been said by any good writer, I will take the liberty to

enlarge upon it.

THE EPISTLE, however various in its appearances, is, in fact, but of

_two_ kinds; _one_ of which may be called the DIDACTIC; the _other_,

the ELEGIAC epistle. By the FIRST I mean all those epistles, whose

end is to _instruct_; whether the subject be _morals_, _politics_,

_criticism_, or, in general, _human life_: by the LATTER, all those,

whose end is to _move_; whether the occasion be _love_, _friendship_,

_jealousy_, or other private distresses. If there are some of a lighter

kind in Horace, and other good writers, which seem not reducible to

either of these two classes, they are to be regarded only, as the

triflings of their pen, and deserve not to be considered, as making a

_third_ and distinct species of this poem.

Now these two kinds of the _epistle_, as they differ widely from each

other in their _subject_ and _end_, so do they likewise in their

_original_: though both _flourished_ at the same time, and are both

wholly _Roman_.

I. The former, or DIDACTIC epistle, was, in fact, the true and proper

offspring of the SATIRE. It will be worth while to reflect how this

happened. _Satire_, in its origin, I mean in the rude _fescennine

farce_, from which the idea of this poem was taken was a mere

extemporaneous jumble of mirth and ill-nature. ENNIUS, who had the

honour of introducing it under its new name, without doubt, civilized

both, yet left it without form or method; it being only, in his hands,

a rhapsody of poems on different subjects, and in different measures.

Common sense disclaiming the extravagance of this heterogeneous

mixture, LUCILIUS advanced it, in its next step, to an unity of

_design_ and _metre_; which was so considerable a change, that it

procured him the high appellation of INVENTOR of this poem. Though,

when I say, that Lucilius introduced into satire _an unity of metre_, I

mean only, in _the same piece_; for the measure, in different satires,

appears to have been different. That the _design_ in him was _one_, I

conclude, _first_, Because Horace expresly informs us, that _the form

or kind of writing_ in the satires of Lucilius was exactly the same

with _that_ in his own; in which no one will pretend, that there is

the least appearance of that rhapsodical, detached form, which made

the character of the _old satire_. But, _principally_, because, on

any other supposition, it does not appear, what could give Lucilius a

claim to that high appellation of INVENTOR of this poem. That he was

the _first_, who copied the manner of the _old comedy_ in satire, could

never be sufficient for this purpose. For all, that he derived into it

from thence, was, as Quinctilian speaks, _libertas atque inde acerbitas

et abunde salis_. It sharpened his _invective_, and polished his

_wit_, that is, it improved the _air_, but did not alter the _form_

of the satire. As little can a right to this title be pleaded from

the _uniformity of measure_, which he introduced into it. For _this_,

without an _unity of design_, is so far from being an alteration for

the better, that it even heightens the absurdity; it being surely more

reasonable to adapt different measures to different subjects, than

to treat a number of inconnected and quite different subjects in the

_same_ measure. When therefore Horace tells us, that Lucilius was the

_Inventor_ of the satire, it must needs be understood, that he was the

FIRST, who, from its former confused state, reduced it into a regular

consistent poem, respecting one main _end_, as well as observing one

_measure_. Little now remained for HORACE but to polish and refine. His

only material alteration was, that he appropriated to the satire ONE,

that is, the heroic metre.

From this short history of the satire we collect, 1. that its

design was _one_: And 2. we learn, what was the general form of its

composition. For, arising out of a loose, disjointed, miscellany,

its method, when most regular, would be free and unconstrained;

nature demanding some chain of connexion, and a respect to its origin

requiring that connexion to be slight and somewhat concealed. But its

_aim_, as well as origin, exacted this careless method. For being, as

Diomedes observes, _archææ comœdiæ charactere compositum_, “professedly

written after the manner of the old comedy,” it was of course to

admit the familiarity of the comic muse; whose genius is averse from

all constraint of _order_, save that only which a natural, successive

train of thinking unavoidably draws along with it. And this, by the

way, accounts for the dialogue air, so frequent in the Roman satire,

as likewise for the looser numbers which appeared so essential to the

grace of it. It was in learned allusion to this comic genius of the

satire, that Mr. Pope hath justly characterized it in the following

manner:

“Horace still charms with graceful negligence,

“And, without method, TALKS us into sense.”

2. It being now seen, what was the real form of the _satire_, nothing,

it is plain, was wanting, but the application of a particular

address, to constitute the _didactic epistle_: the structure of this

poem, as prescribed by the laws of nature and good sense, being in

nothing different from that of the _other_. For here 1. an _unity_

of subject or design is indispensably necessary, the freedom of a

miscellaneous matter being permitted only to the familiar letter. And

2. not professing _formally_ to instruct (which alone justifies the

severity of strict method) but, when of the gravest kind, in the way of

address only to _insinuate_ instruction, it naturally takes an air of

negligence and inconnexion, such as we have before seen essential to

the satire. All which is greatly confirmed by the testimony of _one_,

who could not be uninformed in these matters. In addressing his friend

on the object of his studies, he says,

_sive

Liventem_ satiram _nigra rubigine turpes,

Seu tua_ NON ALIA _splendescat_ epistola CURA.

[Stat. lib. i. Sylv. Tiburt. M. V.]

plainly intimating, that the rules and labour of composition were

exactly the same in these two poems. Though the critics on Statius,

not apprehending this identity, or exact correspondence between the

_satire_ and _epistle_, have unnecessarily, and without warrant,

altered the text, in this place, from ALIA into ALTA.

3. The general form and structure of _this_ epistle being thus clearly

understood, it will now be easy, in few words, to deduce the peculiar

laws of its composition.

And 1. it cannot wholly divest itself of all method: For, having

only one point in view, it must of course pursue it by some kind of

connexion. The progress of the mind in rational thinking requires, that

the chain be never broken entirely, even in its freest excursions.

2. As there must needs be a _connexion_, so _that connexion_ will best

answer its end and the purpose of the writer, which, whilst it leads,

by a sure train of thinking, to the conclusion in view, conceals itself

all the while, and leaves to the reader the satisfaction of supplying

the intermediate links, and joining together, in his own mind, what

is left in a seeming posture of neglect and inconnexion. The art of

furnishing this gratification, so respectful to the sagacity of the

reader, without putting him to the trouble of a painful investigation,

is what constitutes the supreme charm and beauty of EPISTOLARY METHOD.

II. What hath hitherto been advanced respects chiefly the _didactic_

form. It remains to say something of that other _species_ of the

epistle, the ELEGIAC; which, as I observed, had quite another

_original_. For this apparently sprung up from what is properly called

the _Elegy_: a poem of very antient Greek extraction: naturally arising

from the plaintive, querulous humour of mankind; which, under the

pressure of any grief, is impatient to break forth into wailings and

tender expostulations, and finds a kind of relief in indulging and

giving a loose to that flow of sorrow, which it hath not strength or

resolution wholly[7] to restrain. This is the account of the _Elegy_

in its proper Greek form; a negligent, inconnected, abrupt species of

writing, perfectly suited to an indolent disposition and passionate

heart. Such was OVID’S; who, taking advantage of this character of the

elegy, contrived[8] a new kind of poetry, without the expence of much

invention, or labour to himself. For, collecting, as it were, those

scattered hints, which composed the elegy, and directing them to one

principal view; and superadding a personal address, he became the

author of what is here styled the _Elegiac_ epistle; beautiful models

of which we have in his HEROIDES, and the _Epistles from_ PONTUS.

We see then the difference of _this_ from the _didactic_ form. They

have both one principal end and point in view. But the _Didactic_,

being of a cooler and more sedate turn, pursues its design uniformly

and connects easily. The _Elegiac_, on the contrary, whose end is

_emotion_, not _instruction_, hath all the abruptness of irregular

disordered passion. It catches at remote and distant hints, and starts

at once into a digressive train of thinking, which it requires some

degree of enthusiasm in the reader to follow.

Further than this it is not material to my present design to pursue

this subject. More exact ideas of the form and constitution of this

epistle, must be sought in that best example of it, the natural Roman

poet. It may only be observed of the different qualities, necessary to

those, who aspire to excel in these _two_ species: that, as the _one_

would make an impression on the _heart_, it can only do this by means

of an exquisite _sensibility of nature and elegance of mind_; and that

the _other_, attempting in the most inoffensive manner, to inform

the _head_, must demand, to the full accomplishment of its purpose,

_superior good sense_, _the widest knowledge of life_, and, above all,

_the politeness of a consummate address_. That the _former_ was the

characteristic of OVID’S genius hath been observed, and is well known.

How far the _latter_ description agrees to HORACE can be no secret to

those of his readers who have any share, or conception of these talents

themselves. But matters of this _nicer_ kind are properly the objects,

not of _criticism_, but of _sentiment_. Let it suffice then to examine

the poet’s practice, so far only, as we are enabled to judge of it by

the standard of the preceding rules.

III. These rules are reducible to _three_. 1. _that there be an unity

in the subject_. 2. _a connexion in the method_: and 3. _that such

connexion be easy_. All which I suppose to have been religiously

observed in the poet’s conduct of _this_, _i. e._ the _didactic_

epistle. For,

1. The _subject_ of each epistle is one: that is, one single point is

prosecuted through the whole piece, notwithstanding that the address

of the poet, and the delicacy of the subject may sometimes lead him

through a devious tract to it. Had his interpreters attended to this

practice, so consonant to the rule of nature before explained, they

could never have found _an art of poetry_ in the epistle, we are about

to examine.

2. This one point, however it hath not been seen[9], is constantly

pursued by an uniform, consistent _method_; which is never more

artificial, than when least apparent to a careless, inattentive reader.

This should have stimulated his learned critics to seek the connexion

of the poet’s own ideas, when they magisterially set themselves to

transpose or vilify his method.

3. This method is every where sufficiently _clear and obvious_;

proceeding if not in the strictest forms of _disposition_, yet, in an

easy, elegant progress, one hint arising out of another, and insensibly

giving occasion to succeeding ones, just as the cooler genius of this

_kind_ required. This, lastly, should have prevented those, who have

taken upon themselves to criticize _the art of poetry_ by the laws of

_this_ poem, from concealing their ignorance of its real views under

the cover of such abrupt and violent transitions, as might better agree

to the impassioned _elegy_, than to the sedate _didactic epistle_.

To set this three-fold character, in the fullest light, before the view

of the reader, I have attempted to explain the _Epistle to the Pisos_,

in the way of continued commentary upon it. And that the coherence of

the several parts may be the more distinctly seen, the Commentary is

rendered as concise as possible; some of the finer and less obvious

connexions being more carefully observed and drawn out in the notes.

For the _kind_ of interpretation itself, it must be allowed, of all

others, the fittest to throw light upon a difficult and obscure

subject, and, above all, to convey an exact idea of the scope and order

of any work. It hath, accordingly, been so considered by several of the

foreign, particularly the ITALIAN, critics; who have essayed long since

to illustrate, in this way, the very piece before us. But the _success_

of these foreigners is, I am sensible, a slender recommendation of

their _method_. I chuse therefore to rest on the _single_ authority of

a great author, who, in his _edition_ of our English Horace, the _best_

that ever was given of any classic, hath now retrieved and established

the full credit of it. What was the amusement of his pen, becomes

indeed, the _labour_ of inferior writers. Yet, on these unequal terms,

it can be no discredit to have aimed at some resemblance of one of the

least of those _merits_, which shed their united honours on the name of

the illustrious _friend_ and _commentator of_ Mr. POPE.

Q. HORATII FLACCI

ARS POETICA

EPISTOLA AD PISONES.

Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam

Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas

Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum

Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne;

Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici? 5

Credite, Pisones, isti tabulae fore librum

Persimilem, cujus, velut aegri somnia, vanae

Fingentur species; ut nec pes, nec caput uni

Reddatur formae. Pictoribus atque poetis

Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas: 10

Scimus, et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim:

Sed non ut placidis coëant inmitia; non ut

Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni.

Inceptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis

Purpureus, late qui splendeat, unus et alter 15

Adsuitur pannus: cum lucus, et ara Dianae,

Et properantis aquae per amoenos 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

Navibus, aere dato qui pingitur? amphora coepit

Institui, currente rota, cur urceus exit?

Denique sit quidvis; simplex dumtaxat et unum.

Maxima pars vatum, pater et juvenes patre digni,

Decipimur specie recti. Brevis esse laboro, 25

Obscurus fio: sectantem lenia nervi

Deficiunt animique: professus grandia turget:

Serpit humi tutus nimium timidusque procellae:

Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam,

Delphinum silvis adpingit, fluctibus aprum. 30

In vitium ducit culpae fuga, si caret arte.

Aemilium circa ludum faber, unus et unguis

Exprimet, et mollis imitabitur aere capillos;

Infelix operis, summa: quia ponere totum

Nesciet. hunc ego me, si quid componere curem, 35

Non magis esse velim; quam naso vivere pravo,

Spectandum nigris oculis nigroque capillo.

Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, aequam

Viribus; et versate diu, quid ferre recusent,

Quid valeant humeri. cui lecta potenter erit res, 40

Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucides ordo.

Ordinis haec virtus erit et venus, aut ego fallor;

Ut jam nunc dicat, jam nunc debentia dici

Pleraque differat et praesens in tempus omittat.

Hoc amet, hoc spernat, promissi carminis auctor. 45

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis;

Dixeris egregie, notum si callida verbum

Reddiderit junctura novum; si forte necesse est

Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum;

Fingere cinctutis non exaudita Cethegis 50

Continget: dabiturque licentia sumta pudenter.

Et nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem; si

Graeco fonte cadent, parce detorta, quid autem:

Caecilio Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademtum

Virgilio Varioque? ego cur adquirere pauca, 55

Si possum, invideor? quum lingua Catonis et Enni

Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum

Nomina protulerit. licuit, semperque licebit

Signatum praesente nota procudere nummum.

Ut silvis folia privos mutantur in annos; 60

Prima cadunt: ita verborum vetus interit aetas,

Et juvenum ritu florent modo nata vigentque.

Debemur morti nos, nostraque: sive receptus

Terra Neptunus classis Aquilonibus arcet,

Regis opus; sterilisve palus prius aptaque remis 65

Vicinas urbis alit, et grave sentit aratrum:

Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis,

Doctus iter melius: mortalia cuncta peribunt:

Nedum sermonum stet honos, et gratia vivax.

Multa renascentur, quae jam cecidere; cadentque, 70

Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula: si volet usus,

Quem penes arbitrium est, et jus, et norma loquendi.

Res gestae regumque ducumque, et tristia bella,

Quo scribi possent numero, monstravit Homerus.

Versibus inpariter junctis querimonia primum, 75

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.

Hunc socci cepere pedem grandesque cothurni, 80

Alternis aptum sermonibus, et popularis

Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.

Musa dedit fidibus Divos, puerosque Deorum,

Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,

Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre. 85

Descriptas servare vices operumque colores,

Cur ego, si nequeo ignoroque, poeta salutor?

Cur nescire, pudens prave, quam discere malo?

Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non volt:

Indignatur item privatis ac prope socco 90

Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyestae.

Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decentem.

Interdum tamen et vocem comoedia tollit,

Iratusque Chremes tumido dilitigat ore.

Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri. 95

Telephus aut Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,

Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,

Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela.

Non satis est pulchra esse poëmata; dulcia sunto,

Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto. 100

Ut ridentibus adrident, ita flentibus adflent

Humani voltus. si vis me flere, dolendum est

Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent.

Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris,

Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo. tristia moestum 105

Voltum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum;

Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.

Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem

Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut inpellit ad iram,

Aut ad humum moerore gravi deducit, et angit: 110

Post effert animi motus interprete lingua.

Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,

Romani tollent equitesque patresque cachinnum.

Intererit multum, Divusne loquatur, an heros;

Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventa 115

Fervidus; et matrona potens, an sedula nutrix;

Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;

Colchus, an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis.

Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge,

Scriptor. Homereum si forte reponis Achillem; 120

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 scenae conmittis, et audes 125

Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum

Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

Difficile est proprie communia dicere: tuque

Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,

Quàm si proferres ignota indictaque primus. 130

Publica materies privati juris erit, si

Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem;

Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus

Interpres; nec desilies imitator in artum,

Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet aut operis lex. 135

Nec sic incipies, ut scriptor cyclicus olim:

FORTUNAM PRIAMI CANTABO, ET NOBILE BELLUM.

Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu?

Parturiunt montes: nascetur ridiculus mus.

Quanto rectius hic, qui nîl molitur inepte! 140

DIC MIHI, MUSA, VIRUM, CAPTAE POST MOENIA TROJAE,

QUI MORES HOMINUM MULTORUM VIDIT ET URBIS.

Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem

Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat,

Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cyclope Charybdin. 145

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 quae

Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit: 150

Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet,

Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Tu, quid ego et populus mecum desideret, audi;

Si fautoris eges aulaea manentis, et usque

Sessuri, donec cantor, Vos plaudite, dicat: 155

Aetatis 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. 160

Inberbus juvenis, tandem custode remoto,

Gaudet equis canibusque et aprici gramine campi;

Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper,

Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus aeris,

Sublimis, cupidusque, et amata relinquere pernix. 165

Conversis studiis, aetas animusque virilis

Quaerit opes et amicitias, inservit honori;

Conmisisse cavet quod mox mutare laboret.

Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda; vel quod

Quaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti; 170

Vel quòd res omnis timide gelideque ministrat,

Dilator, spe lentus, iners, pavidusque futuri;

Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti

Se puero, castigator, censorque minorum.

Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum, 175

Multa recedentes adimunt: ne forte seniles

Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles.

Semper in adjunctis aevoque morabimur aptis.

Aut agitur res in scenis, aut acta refertur:

Segnius inritant animos demissa per aurem, 180

Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae

Ipse sibi tradit spectator. non tamen intus

Digna geri promes in scenam: multaque tolles

Ex oculis, quae mox narret facundia praesens:

Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet; 185

Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus;

Aut in avem Procne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.

Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.

Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu

Fabula, quae posci volt, et spectata reponi. 190

Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus

Inciderit: nec quarta loqui persona laboret.

Actoris partes chorus, officiumque virile

Defendat: neu quid medios intercinat actus,

Quod non proposito conducat et haereat apte. 195

Ille bonis faveatque et consilietur amice,

Et regat iratos, et amet pacare tumentis:

Ille dapes laudet mensae brevis, ille salubrem

Justitiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis:

Ille tegat conmissa; Deosque precetur et oret, 200

Ut redeat miseris, abeat fortuna superbis.

Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco juncta, tubaeque

Aemula; sed tenuis, simplexque foramine pauco,

Aspirare et adesse choris erat utilis, atque

Nondum spissa nimis conplere sedilia flatu: 205

Quo sane populus numerabilis, utpote parvus

Et frugi castusque verecundusque coibat.

Postquam coepit agros extendere victor, et urbem

Laxior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno

Placari Genius festis inpune diebus; 210

Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.

Indoctus quid enim saperet liberque laborum,

Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto?

Sic priscae motumque et luxuriem addidit arti

Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem: 215

Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere severis,

Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia praeceps;

Utiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri,

Sortilegis non discrepuit sententia Delphis.

Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum, 220

Mox etiam agrestis Satyros nudavit, et asper

Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit: eo quod

Inlecebris erat et grata novitate morandus

Spectator functusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.

Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicacis 225

Conveniet Satyros, ita vertere seria ludo;

Ne quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebitur heros

Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro,

Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas:

Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet. 230

Effutire levis indigna tragoedia versus,

Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus,

Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.

Non ego inornata et dominantia nomina solum

Verbaque, Pisones, Satyrorum scriptor amabo: 235

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 240

Speret idem; sudet multum, frustraque laboret

Ausus idem: tantum series juncturaque pollet:

Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.

Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni,

Ne velut innati triviis, ac pene forenses, 245

Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus umquam,

Aut inmunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta.

Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et res;

Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,

Aequis accipiunt animis, donantve corona. 250

Syllaba longa brevi subjecta, vocatur Iambus,

Pes citus: unde etiam Trimetris adcrescere jussit

Nomen Iambeis, cum senos redderet ictus

Primus ad extremum similis sibi: non ita pridem,

Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad auris, 255

Spondeos stabilis 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 missus cum magno pondere versus, 260

Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis,

Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.

Non quivis videt immodulata poëmata judex:

Et data Romanis venia est indigna poetis.

Idcircone vager, scribamque licenter? ut omnis 265

Visuros peccata putem mea; tutas et intra

Spem veniae cautus? vitavi denique culpam,

Non laudem merui. Vos exemplaria Graeca

Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.

At vestri proavi Plautinos et numeros et 270

Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque

(Ne dicam stulte) mirati: si modo ego et vos

Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto,

Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure.

Ignotum tragicae genus invenisse Camenae 275

Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse poëmata Thespis

Qui canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora.

Post hunc personae pallaeque repertor honestae

Aeschylos et modicis instravit pulpita tignis,

Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. 280

Successit vetus his Comoedia, 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 poëtae: 285

Nec minimum meruere decus, vestigia Graeca

Ausi deserere, et celebrare domestica facta,

Vel qui Praetextas, vel qui docuere Togatas.

Nec virtute foret clarisve potentius armis,

Quam lingua, Latium; si non offenderet unum- 290

Quemque poëtarum limae labor et mora. Vos, ô

Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non

Multa dies et multa litura coërcuit, atque

Praesectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.

Ingenium misera quia fortunatius arte 295

Credit, et excludit sanos Helicone poëtas

Democritus; bona pars non unguis ponere curat,

Non barbam: secreta petit loca, balnea vitat.

Nanciscetur enim pretium nomenque poëtae,

Si tribus Anticyris caput insanabile numquam 300

Tonsori Licino conmiserit. O ego laevus,

Qui purgor bilem sub verni temporis horam?

Non alius faceret meliora poëmata: verum

Nil tanti est. ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum

Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi. 305

Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo;

Unde parentur opes: quid alat formetque poëtam;

Quid deceat, quid non; quo virtus, quo ferat error.

Scribendi recte, sapere est et principium et fons.

Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt ostendere chartae: 310

Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequentur.

Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis;

Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hospes;

Quod sit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quae

Partes in bellum missi ducis; ille profecto 315

Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique.

Respicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo

Doctum imitatorem, et vivas hinc ducere voces.

Interdum speciosa locis, morataque recte

Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte, 320

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 325

Discunt in partis centum diducere. Dicas

Filius Albini, si de quincunce remota est

Uncia, quid superet, poterat dixisse, triens? Eu!

Rem poteris servare tuam. Redit uncia: quid fit?

Semis. An haec animos aerugo et cura peculî 330

Cum semel inbuerit, speramus carmina fingi

Posse linenda cedro, et levi servanda cupresso?

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare poëtae;

Aut simul et jocunda et idonea dicere vitae.

Quicquid praecipies, esto brevis: ut cito dicta 335

Percipiant animi dociles, teneantque fideles.

[Omne supervacuum pleno de pectore manat.]

Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris:

Ne, quodcumque volet, poscat sibi fabula credi;

Neu pransae Lamiae vivum puerum extrahat alvo. 340

Centuriae seniorum agitant expertia frugis:

Celsi praetereunt austera poëmata Ramnes.

Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,

Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo.

Hic meret aera liber Sosiis, hic et mare transit, 345

Et longum noto scriptori prorogat aevum.

Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus:

Nam neque chorda sonum reddit, quem volt manus et mens;

Poscentique gravem persaepe remittit acutum:

Nee semper feriet, quodcumque minabitur, arcus. 350

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, venia caret; ut citharoedus 355

Ridetur, chorda qui semper oberrat eadem:

Sic mihi qui multum cessat, fit Choerilos ille,

Quem bis terve bonum, cum risu miror; et idem

Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.

Verum operi longo fas est obrepere somnum. 360

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. 365

O major juvenum, quamvis et voce paterna

Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis; hoc tibi dictum

Tolle memor: certis medium et tolerabile rebus

Recte concedi: consultus juris, et actor

Causarum mediocris; abest virtute diserti 370

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 375

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; 380

Ne spissae risum tollant inpune coronae:

Qui nescit versus, tamen audet fingere. Quid nî?

Liber et ingenuus; praesertim census equestrem

Summam nummorum, vitioque remotus ab omni.

Tu nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva: 385

Id tibi judicium est, ea mens, si quid tamen olim

Scripseris, in Maecî descendat judicis auris,

Et patris, et nostras; nonumque prematur in annum,

Membranis intus positis. Delere licebit

Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti. 390

Silvestris homines sacer interpresque Deorum

Caedibus et victu foedo deterruit Orpheus;

Dictus ob hoc lenire tigris rabidosque leones.

Dictus et Amphion, Thebanae conditor arcis,

Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda 395

Ducere quo vellet. fuit haec sapientia quondam,

Publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis;

Concubitu prohibere vago; dare jura maritis;

Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno.

Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque 400

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

Pieriis tentata modis, ludusque repertus, 405

Et longorum operum finis; ne forte pudori

Sit tibi Musa lyrae solers, et cantor Apollo.

Natura fieret laudabile carmen, an arte,

Quaesitum est. Ego nec studium sine divite vena,

Nec rude quid possit video ingenium: alterius sic 410

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. 415

Nec satis est dixisse, Ego mira poëmata pango:

Occupet extremum scabies: mihi turpe relinqui est,

Et, quod non didici, sane nescire fateri.

Ut praeco, ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas;

Adsentatores jubet ad lucrum ire poëta 420

Dives agris, dives positis in foenore nummis.

Si vero est, unctum qui recte ponere possit,

Et spondere levi pro paupere, et eripere artis

Litibus inplicitum; mirabor, si sciet inter-

Noscere mendacem verumque beatus amicum. 425

Tu seu donaris seu quid donare voles cui;

Nolito ad versus tibi factos ducere plenum

Laetitiae; clamabit enim, Pulchre, bene, recte!

Pallescet: super his etiam stillabit amicis

Ex oculis rorem; saliet; tundet pede terram. 430

Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt

Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo: sic

Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur.

Reges dicuntur multis urguere culullis,

Et torquere mero quem perspexisse laborant 435

An sit amicitia dignus. si carmina condes,

Nunquam te fallant animi sub volpe latentes.

Quintilio si quid recitares: Corrige sodes

Hoc, aiebat, et hoc. melius te posse negares,

Bis terque expertum frustra? delere jubebat, 440

Et male ter natos incudi reddere versus.

Si defendere delictum, quam vertere, malles;

Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam insumebat inanem,

Quin sine rivali teque et tua solus amares.

Vir bonus et prudens versus reprehendet inertis; 445

Culpabit duros; incomptis adlinet atrum

Transverso calamo signum; ambitiosa recidet

Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget;

Arguet ambigue dictum; mutanda notabit;

Fiet Aristarchus; non dicet, Cur ego amicum 450

Offendam in nugis? Hae nugae seria ducent

In mala derisum semel, exceptumque sinistre.

Ut mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urguet,

Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana;

Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntque poëtam, 455

Qui sapiunt: agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur.

Hic, dum sublimis versus ructatur, et errat,

Si veluti merulis intentus decidit auceps

In puteum, foveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum

Clamet, io cives: non sit qui tollere curet. 460

Si curet quis opem ferre, et demittere funem;

Quî scis, an prudens huc se projecerit, atque

Servari nolit? dicam: Siculique poëtae

Narrabo interitum. Deus inmortalis haberi

Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentem frigidus Aetnam 465

Insiluit. sit jus, liceatque perire poëtis.

Invitum qui servat, idem facit occidenti.

Nec semel hoc fecit; nec si retractus erit jam,

Fiet homo, et ponet famosae mortis amorem.

Nec satis adparet, cur versus factitet; utrum 470

Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental

Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus

Objectos caveae valuit si frangere clathros,

Indoctum doctumque fugat recitator acerbus.

Quem vero arripuit, tenet, occiditque legendo, 475

Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris, hirudo.

COMMENTARY.

The subject of this piece being, as I suppose, _one, viz. the state of

the Roman Drama_, and common sense requiring, even in the freest forms

of composition, some kind of _method_, the intelligent reader will not

be surprised to find the poet prosecuting his subject in a regular,

well-ordered _plan_; which, for the more exact description of it, I

distinguish into three parts:

I. The first of them [from v. 1 to 89] is preparatory to the main

subject of the epistle, containing some general rules and reflexions on

poetry, but principally with an eye to the following parts: by which

means it serves as an useful introduction to the poet’s design, and

opens with that air of ease and negligence, essential to the epistolary

form.

II. The main body of the epistle [from v. 89 to 295] is laid out in

regulating the _Roman_ stage; but chiefly in giving rules for tragedy;

not only as that was the sublimer species of the _Drama_, but, as it

should seem, less cultivated and understood.

III. The last part [from v. 295 to the end] exhorts to correctness in

writing; yet still with an eye, principally, to the _dramatic species_;

and is taken up partly in removing the causes, that prevented it, and

partly in directing to the use of such means, as might serve to promote

it. Such is the general plan of the epistle. In order to enter fully

into it, it will be necessary to trace the poet, attentively, through

the elegant connexions of his own method.

PART I.

GENERAL REFLEXIONS ON POETRY.

The epistle begins [to v. 9] with that general and fundamental precept

_of preserving an unity in the subject and the disposition of the

piece_. This is further explained by defining the use, and fixing the

character of _poetic licence_ [from v. 9 to 13] which unskilful writers

often plead in defence of their transgressions against the law of

UNITY. To v. 23 is considered and exposed that particular violation of

_uniformity_, into which young poets especially, under the impulse of a

warm imagination, are apt to run, arising from frequent and ill-timed

descriptions. These, however beautiful in themselves, and with whatever

mastery they may be executed, yet, if foreign to the subject, and

incongruous to the place, where they stand, are extremely impertinent:

a caution, the more necessary, as the fault itself wears the appearance

of a _virtue_, and so writers [from v. 23 to 25] come to transgress the

_rule of right_ from their very ambition to observe it. There are two

cases, in which this _ambition_ remarkably misleads us. The _first_

is when it tempts us to push an _acknowledged beauty_ too far. Great

beauties are always in the confines of great faults; and therefore, by

affecting superior excellence, we are easily carried into absurdity.

Thus [from v. 25 to 30] _brevity_ is often _obscurity_; _sublimity_,

_bombast_; _caution_, _coolness_; and, to come round to the point, a

fondness for _varying and diversifying a subject_, by means of episodes

and descriptions, such as are mentioned above [v. 15] will often betray

a writer into that capital error of violating the _unity_ of his piece.

For, though variety be a real excellence under the conduct of true

judgment, yet, when affected beyond the bounds of probability, and

brought in solely to _strike_ and _surprize_, it becomes unseasonable

and absurd. The several episodes or descriptions, intended to give that

variety, may be inserted in improper places; and then the absurdity is

as great, as that of the painter, who, according to the illustration of

v. 19, 20, should introduce a cypress into a sea-piece, or, according

to the illustration of the present verse, who paints a dolphin in a

wood, or a boar in the sea.

2. Another instance, in which we are misled by an _ambition of

attaining to what is right_, is, when, through an excessive fear of

committing faults, we disqualify ourselves for the just execution of a

_whole_, or of such _particulars_, as are susceptible of real beauty.

For not the affectation of superior excellencies only, but even

_In vitium ducit_ culpae fuga, _si caret arte_.

This is aptly illustrated by the case of a sculptor. An over-scrupulous

diligence to finish single and trivial parts in a statue, which, when

most exact, are only not faulty, leaves him utterly incapable of doing

justice to the more important members, and, above all, of designing and

completing a _whole_ with any degree of perfection. But this latter

is commonly the defect of a minute genius; who, having taken in hand

a design, which he is by no means able to execute, naturally applies

himself to labour and finish those parts, which he finds are within

his power. It is of consequence therefore [from v. 38 to 40] for every

writer to be well acquainted with the nature and extent of his own

talents: and to be careful to chuse a subject, which is, in all its

parts, proportioned to his strength and ability. Besides, from such an

attentive survey of his subject, and of his capacity to treat it, he

will also derive these further advantages [v. 41] 1. That he cannot be

wanting in a proper fund of matter, wherewith to inlarge under every

head: nor, 2. can he fail, by such a well-weighed choice, to dispose of

his subject in the best and most convenient method. Especially, as to

the latter, which is the principal benefit, he will perceive [to v. 45]

where it will be useful to preserve, and where to change, the natural

order of his subject, as may best serve to answer the ends of poetry.

Thus far some general reflexions concerning _poetical distribution_;

principally, as it may be affected by false notions, 1. Of _poetic

licence_ [v. 10] and, 2. Of _poetic perfection_ [v. 25]. But the same

causes will equally affect the _language_, as _method_, of poetry. To

these then are properly subjoined some directions about the _use of

words_. Now this particular depending so entirely on what is out of the

reach of rule, as the fashion of the age, the taste of the writer, and

his knowledge of the language, in which he writes, the poet only gives

directions about _new words_: or, since every language is necessarily

imperfect, about the _coining of such words_, as the writer’s necessity

or convenience may demand. And here, after having prescribed [l. 46]

a great _caution_ and _sparingness_ in the thing itself, he observes,

1. [to l. 49] That where it ought to be done, the better and less

offensive way will be, not to coin a _word_ entirely new (for this

is ever a task of some envy) but, by means of an ingenious and happy

position of a well-known word, in respect of some others, to give it a

new air, and cast. Or, if it be necessary to _coin new words_, as it

will be in subjects of an abstruse nature, and especially such, as were

never before treated in the language, that then, 2. [to l. 54] this

liberty is very allowable; but that the reception of them will be more

easy, if we derive them gently, and without too much violence, from

their proper source, that is, from a language, as the Greek, already

known, and approved. And, to obviate the prejudices of over-scrupulous

critics on this head, he goes on [from l. 54 to l. 73] in a vein of

popular illustration, to alledge, in favour of this liberty, the

examples of antient writers, and the vague, unsteady nature of language

itself.

From these reflexions on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to

_particulars_: the most obvious of which being the different _forms

and measures_ of poetic 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 Epic_, _Elegiac_, _Dramatic_, and _Lyric_. But the

distinction of the _measures_ to be observed in the several species

of poetry 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 other, without destroying that _natural

and necessary difference_, which ought to subsist betwixt them all.

To explane this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from

v. 89 to 99] the case of dramatic 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. For, 1. Comedy, in the passionate parts, will admit of

a tragic elevation: and, 2. Tragedy, in its soft distressful scenes,

condescends to the ease of familiar conversation. But the poet had a

further view in chusing this instance. For he gets by this means into

the main of his subject, which was dramatic poetry, and, by the most

delicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from l. 89 to 323] to deliver

a series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, and enlivened

by digressions, for the regulation and improvement of the ROMAN STAGE.

The works of Richard Hurd, volume 1 (of 8) · 第 1 / 7 章